someone overhears ilya threatening shane with releasing an incriminating photo and the whole league and twitter goes wild because this is blackmail !!
so shane has to post the photo himself to prove that no, boston captain ilya rozanov does not have any evidence or incriminating documents on shane hollander
instead it’s a picture of canadas golden boy hungover eating mcdonald’s for breakfast flipping off the camera wearing a raiders hoodie
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i think dom bottom shane also gets NASTY with the dirty talk. i feel like usually he doesn't go too far beyond like moaning ilya's name and asking for it harder etc. but when he's in Those Moods and he's super feeling himself, his mouth is filthy and it makes ilya so fuck drunk every single time
“Can feel you in my fucking gut.” Shane says as he grinds down in Ilya’s lap, “Right here.” He pushes on his lower abdomen and groans with it.
Ilya’s heavy breath through his nose, trying to calm his heart rate down. He knows he’s leaking inside Shane right now, and if he doesn’t focus he’s going to blow his load a lot faster than he wants but Shane won’t shut his fucking mouth and it’s making Ilya lose his goddamn mind.
“Fuck, Ilya.” Shane drops his head back on his own shoulders and feels down his abdomen again before reaching down and tugging his hard dick a few times.
He looks back down at Ilya as he rocks in his lap and strokes himself. “Hmmmm, I think I was made to take your cock, baby.”
Shane leans forward and lifts his ass up, clenching along the length of Ilya’s cock as he does. He’s a hair away from Ilya’s lips, breathing against them.
He moves up and down on Ilya’s dick, slowly and excruciating, squeezing his hole around the head each time. Ilya stretches his neck out and groans on a particular long roll of Shane’s hips and Shane breaks out in a cocky smirk.
“You okay?” He asks teasingly.
Ilya’s jaw is clenched and he nods short and fast, giving a deep hum of agreement but not talking back. He needs to focus on not coming with every fibre of his body and mind. His face is warm and he knows he’s flushed, he feels the sweat dripping down his temple.
Shane sits up and leans back, resting his hands on Ilya’s strong thighs. He uses the new position to start bouncing, and his cock bounces up and down too, leaving a wet trail of precum along Ilya’s happy trail. Shane groans with each drop down, Ilya’s cock brushing his prostate.
“Fucking love your cock.”
Ilya whimpers.
“So much, love feeling it inside me, in my mouth, in my ass. Fuck, want you to fill me up baby, want to feel it so fucking much.”
Ilya vision whites out and he’s gripping Shane’s hips so tight he knows he’ll leave fingertip bruises and that makes him moan even louder than he already was. He fucks up into Shane, chasing his orgasm and Shane fucking laughs in satisfaction.
“Yes, yes, yes, fuck yes.” Shane says in a mantra with his eyes squeezed shut and his cock frantically hitting Ilya’s stomach with each movement. He feels Ilya’s cock twitch inside him as Ilya comes with a shout. Shane shoots his own load all the way up Ilya’s torso to his collarbone.
Their breathing slows down and Shane is smiling as he stares down at Ilya.
one must imagine shane in a bathroom stall in the metros locker room right before a game against boston, headphones in watching the video ilya just sent of himself jerking off in the bathroom in the guest locker room along with a message that just says good luck tonight :)
Shane was fifteen when the first High School Musical film came out which means it's not entirely impossible that he would've watched it with his then girlfriend. And sure, he thought the whole musical aspect was kind of dumb and, yeah, the acting wasn't great but maybe, just maybe, he felt a little tingle at Troy Bolton; star basketball player and certified 2006 Hunk.
But, and I cannot stress this enough, that tingle didn't last long because as soon as Troy started gambling with his basketball career, Shane was all the way turned off. Of course he sides with the team! Troy's their captain! He's their best player! He's their best shot at the championship! And he's not honouring that commitment. He's not taking it seriously At All. He's blowing it all off to, what? Be in some fucking high school theatre production? What the fuck is wrong with him??
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I KNOW that the head ilya got post meeting shane’s parents and proving that he’s a certified™ good guy and suitable partner for their son was crazyyy, and ilya’s definitely all sweet and happy after successfully being shane’s boyfriend where other people could see and maybe he wants more of that cute domesticity he’s never been able to have but shane’s just looking at him, like a wild animal, before going ‘ilya take your pants off right now’ and then he uno reverses the rozanov tornado blowjob
just because I can already see Netflix trying to get all the hr fans with the new hockey show they’re making, please do not give it any attention.
It’s still untitled and in the process of being made, but the story premise is that a coach’s widow takes over his hockey team in Minnesota after he dies. The coach and other players die in a bus crash.
If you’re unaware, in 2018 there was a horrific bus crash in Saskatchewan with the Humboldt Broncos. The crash took 16 lives with 13 survivors. It was a nationwide story. teams did fundraising, memorial nights, sticks out on porches, it really brought the whole country together. So to see this tragedy get turned into another shitty Americanized Netflix show is fucking disgusting and infuriating. A parent that lost their son in the crash has said it feels like a punch in the face.
The executive producer is Canadian so there’s no way this is just a coincidence. they’re also creating it in BC and getting funding (or tax credits) from ‘Creative BC’. Guess they couldn’t actually set the story in Canada, huh? Would’ve been a little too on the nose??
Anyways don’t support this garbage capitalizing on a tragedy even though it won’t be out for quite a while.
They’re calling it ‘The Sticks’ which feels fucking disgusting after the Canadian’s way to remember the players lost was to put sticks out on porches. Fuck Netflix forever. The tragedy isn’t even a decade old.
the I could marry svetlana conversation is diabolical because shane is VISIBLY distressed, eyes shining, vibrating like a plucked string, walls up and braced for impact, and ilya STILL makes him sit through that whole long setup of "we are friends we would be fine" and "I have this problem" and "I like women, yes? and everywhere I go I am surrounded by beautiful women. and these women, they are so fun, and sexy..." before FINALLY BASICALLY telling shane he only ever thinks about him and wants him more than anyone else. and shane has aged five years in the intervening seconds but ilya knew that if he drew out his hurt the eventual balm would be that much sweeter. hurt/comfort but in this relationship ilya is providing both
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my non threathening hc of the day is that ilya is a raw dough consumer. he is making brownies with yuna and he is licking that bowl until it's pristinely clean you would never know there's been brownie batter in there. jackie is making homemade dinner rolls with the kids and ilya sweeps in and plucks a chunck out of the dough and throws it in his mouth and the christmas cookies get fucked up every year before they've even been in the oven. ilya is not scared of salmonella, salmonella is scared of him
#prev -> #ilya reads the text and gives shane a thumbs up from across the room#<- prev #quite literally that is the dynamic #Their faces are both stone straight btw #Shane is staring into the middle distance a little but other than that there's nothing to indicate what's happening in his brain #(He is thinking about the last time they had sex like it's game tape on the TV) #Ilya on the other hand is extremely blasé because this is A Tuesday #They played hockey they did press and now they're going to go home where his husband will climb him like a tree #(It's part of his wind-down routine) (@lavenderprose's tags)
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Could I interest you in some pocket sized Hollanov? 👀
I'm so excited to share these exclusive postcards I drew for the @well-believe-in-anything-zine project 🥰 And the most exciting thing: They are going to be foiled 😱 Please check out this project, there are so many insanely talented artists participating and zines go on sale August 17th 💗
continuation of this short post where shane tipsily contemplates getting squished between ilya and marleau’s sweaty bodies <3
it’s been several months and shane isn’t even thinking anymore about getting panini-pressed between his husband and his husband’s bro-y best friend. it was buzzy and fun and ilya teasing him about it while they fucked afterwards was kinda hot but he’s done with all that now.
that’s the plan, at least, until he finds himself in a club. finds himself a little drunker than he intended. finds himself on the dance floor, ilya guiding him with long, sexy movements that keep them pressed together so nicely, chest to chest. it’s less dancing, to be honest, and more swaying. taking stock of each other’s bodies and following the ebb and flow of them. and shane is drunk and happy and a little turned on by his smoking hot husband so that’s why he reacts the way he does when it happens. when they’re suddenly not alone.
shane is perhaps hyperaware of cliff marleau’s presence tonight, but only in the way that ilya hasn’t gotten to see him in such a long time. it’s a reunion of sorts. so vibes are up. his husband’s happy and that makes shane happy, his slightly swimming brain latching onto the endorphins that spike around marleau like they’re his own.
it’s why his body reacts the way it does when one moment, things are footloose and fancy free, and then the next, there’s this solid, hulking weight settling behind him, not touching but unmistakably there. it’s marleau’s deep voice. marleau’s woodsy cologne. marleau’s heat, hovering just shy of shane’s back as he leans over his shoulder to shout something at ilya.
it’s loud as fuck in here, the bass sitting low in shane’s chest, so he really does mean shout. but ilya leans in a bit to catch his words. seamlessly. they’ve done this so many times, shane assumes, finding each other in clubs after inevitably splitting up. and that’s fine. that’s good. ilya’s laughing and he’s happy and that makes shane happy. and then the crowd moves.
it’s light - a ripple effect as a group of girls make their way through the sea of bodies - but it’s just enough, that adrenaline spiking with a top-off of sweet endorphins as suddenly, marleau’s body sinks in to press all along shane’s back.
it’s nothing. an accident. and yet shane’s heart suddenly bunny-kicks in his chest, the light squeeze of him caught between ilya and marleau’s chests sending a pulse of satisfied heat through his core. because neither of them are moving away. there’s a natural sway to them that comes from being in a crowd of bodies, but the extra space must’ve never freed up behind marleau after the girls passed. and all of the sudden shane’s brain and dick register that he’s stuck. that he’s squished, by firm muscles, from all sides.
he’s been in this position before. on a dance floor like this. rose kissing him, miles’s lips not so secretly brushing against the back of his neck. it’s not a new position, but tonight is nothing like that. right now, there’s nothing remotely sexual even happening. it’s just ilya talking to his friend. just having a moment. casual and circumstantial and yet shane’s skin is on fire. his muscles are screaming with relief, the beautiful satisfaction of the deep pressure surrounding him making his brain swim down deep.
ilya shouts something back to marleau with a devastatingly handsome smile. it gets both hands reaching over shane’s shoulders to give ilya’s a friendly rub and it’s too loud to catch. all shane knows is they’re both laughing now. they’re like boys again - a revisit to their clubrat days and they’re just as smooth and sexy but they’re mature now. stable. and shane is ilya’s, those big hands on his hips now that marleau’s snug against his back. there’s no room to actually dance and shane’s finding he couldn’t be happier about that, pulse thick and thundering in his ears as another wave presses in, marleau’s touch dropping back to clamp over shane’s deltoids as he’s forced to press forward again - so fucking tightly into him this time that shane stumbles that last half a step into ilya’s chest and fuck.
shane’s eyes flutter closed. hands fall to clutch into the back of ilya’s tank top. his dick jumps in his jeans as the heady pressure squeezing around him tightens. neither of the men seem to care that marleau’s all up on shane and maybe that’s normal. maybe that’s just the way the club scene is. you get cozy and flush against your best friend’s partner and no one bats an eye because it doesn’t mean anything. it’s just a spacing issue.
maybe shane’s the freak.
because he’s trying not to, but he can feel himself getting hard. he can hear all that teasing that poured from his husband’s lips after he admitted to hypothetically wanting this around that fire pit. the pressure. the trap. with this man specifically.
marleau leans his head back for a second and his warm breath fans against the nape of shane’s neck and suddenly, like a demon has possessed him, it’s taking everything in shane’s power not to back his ass up into marleau’s lap. to grind against him a little. just to see. god, he’s drunk. he needs ilya to take him home and fuck him. he needs to stay right here and live out his days crushed between these two sweaty bodies, their colognes mixing into this insane aroma that gets in shane’s head and makes him wanna do something crazy.
he just needs to recenter. steady his pulse. enjoy the pressure without equating it to something filthy, like he can usually do so well, but for some reason is struggling hard as hell with right now.
shane rests his chin over ilya’s shoulder with a hum. closes his eyes. remembers himself and where he is and opens them back up, making eye contact with a twink who’s watching him with what can only be described as biblical proportions of envy.
they need to leave. before shane does something stupid. before he ruins a friendship that’s been in the works for over a decade because he’s drunk and horny and can’t control himself.
shane lifts his head to brush his lips against ilya’s ear, but before he can ask, something happens behind them. whatever it is, it’s got marleau’s lap pressing up flush against his ass and god, it sends this buzzy pleasure through him so, so deeply and the noise escapes shane before he can reel it in. before he can act like he’s normal and not very obviously so fucking turned on between them.
he can feel ilya’s chest rumble. hear the smirk that’s dancing across his lips as he noses his way over to shane’s ear instead.
“soon,” he murmurs, and shane has no way of knowing how his eyes flick up to snag on marleau over his shoulder. “let us play with you a little longer.”