Hellsing



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  1. Rec *

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    “H’rder,” Shane whines into his mouth, not even trying to interrupt the kiss but speaking pathetically muffled and slurred around Ilya’s tongue.

    Ilya knocks their foreheads together, smiles.

    Nooooo Ilya, not before the game, Ilya,” he whines, a sweetly mocking imitation of Shane, “and now look at you, mhm? Why should I ever listen to your complaining, baby, when you’re gonna be such an easy, perfect slut for it anyways?”

    Or: Shane plays four-dimensional chess to get Ilya to fuck him even when he tells him no, for Shane-typical control freak reasons, in Shane-typical convoluted ways, with Shane-typical unawareness of this being a sex freak thing. Ilya provides, of course.

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    26 Jun 2026

  2. Rec 40

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    "But I didn't get a goal." He tried very hard not to look at the small window showing the actual pout on his face.

    Ilya grinned, the one that made Shane's stomach tighten with an equal measure of arousal and dread. "You played a shit game so I should suffer? No, I don't think so. Clothes off, get your tripod."

    Shane decided he should only get an orgasm when he gets a goal for a whole season. It didn't always go the way he planned.

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    25 Jun 2026

  3. Rec *

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    "Okay." Ilya removes his hands from Shane, and then gets up, letting Shane's head fall against the cushion.

    "What?" Shane leans up, his head and chest lifting off the seat. "Where are you going."

    Ilya sits down on the other couch. "Like you just said. You are reading. I don't want to disturb you."

    Shane's mouth falls open. He closes it. Opens it again. Then he flattens it, locking his features down to appear unaffected. "Right. Just… you don't usually listen to me."

    ———

    Ilya wants Shane to tell him what he wants. But that doesn't mean he's going to give it to him.

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    25 Jun 2026

  4. Rec *

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    Shane Hollander masturbates a little too hard and pushes himself into sub space, ending in a sub drop while he's alone in Montreal.

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    25 Jun 2026

  5. Rec *

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    25 Jun 2026