Hi, I’m Ani! I’m a writer, sometimes it’s good and sometimes it’s bad but it’s generally at least entertaining for us all
Fandoms & Characters I write for:
MCU/Marvel
Particularly:
Natasha Romanov/Black Widow
Steve Rogers/Captain America
Peter Parker/Spider-man
Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier/White Wolf
Carol Danvers/Captain Marvel
Wade Wilson/Deadpool
Peggy Carter/Agent Carter/Captain Carter
Request Guidelines
!!X Reader welcome!!
Ships I’ll Write(if not listed, feel free to ask) - WinterWidow, Romanrogers, Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett, Stucky, Valcarol, Carol Danvers x Maria Rambeau, Cartinelli
Some of my favorite non-romantic things to write(still request! This is just a lot of my favs) - Irondad, Spidermom, Carol Danvers & Natasha Romanov, Carol Danvers & Steve Rogers
DNES + RULES
- no homophobia, transphobia, racism, sexism, antisemitism, xenophobia, etc
To be clear. Shane's whole thing about Ilya being a Sex God is because of the limerence. Ilya is nineteen and he can get a rhythm going and that's about it. He was throwing shit at the wall when he hit that 'Get on your knees' in Nashville but only he knows that because Shane's brain turned OFF. Ilya said "Let's do a little experiment here" and the results were "Oh my god oh my god oh my god." Shane came hands free because he was that obsessed with the idea of Ilya Rozanov being inside him. Ilya said "Do you like that do you like that" because he's nineteen and he needs the validation and Shane was like "YES YES YES I LIKE IT OH MY GOD YOU'RE SO DEEP YOU'RE SO GOOD" and objectively. It was okay. Ilya fully did not know where to put his hands a couple of times. He forgot about Shane's dick. Luckily, Shane is God's special angel who can come from the idea of Ilya's cockhead being in proximity to his prostate a few times. Mind over matter, says Shane Hollander's dick. And then Ilya said "Oh God Hollander" because it was also, objectively, one of the hottest things that had ever happened to HIM, Ilya Rozanov. Shane sits on that step afterwards plotting about how he's gonna get this over and over and over again for the rest of his life and he has no idea that there are women in Boston who have Ilya listed in their contacts as "Hockey Guy 6/10". Shane Hollander cannot fathom a world in which Ilya Rozanov doesn't lay the maddest pipe this side of Lake Michigan. "Ilya Rozanov is a some kind of nineteen year old sex God" No Shane honey he was just designed in a lab to score goals and make you cum and he's done scoring goals for the night.
I went—not overseas, but by public transport—to Corpus to hear Tamsyn Muir speak.
The bad news: Alecto is not finished. It will hopefully come out "soon" and will likely be fast tracked with few ARCs when it's finished.
The news you may take differently depending on your preferences: It is not being split.
The good news: It is not all written in Ye Olde Alecto speak (it sounds like Harrow's POV will be fairly major, but there will apparently be several narrators).
A slightly random selection of things I frantically scribbled down:
The protagonists of TLT would make an "absolutely shit" D&D party ("Palamedes and Camilla would be fine")
We could have had horse plinko and begone thot, but for the anti-meme ministrations of her editor. She would love an edition that puts all of the memes back in.
On Catholic imagery and lesbianism: "you ain't seen nothing yet"
"Harrow is now a believer without a church"
She said that while John and Alecto's relationship is not meant to be a 1:1 analogue to Humbert Humbert and Lolita, there is the idea of a man fashioning (something he thinks is) a girl into a perfect partner (the question of whether that is a sexual partner apparently may be relevant to ATN)
She does not have a favourite House and would just be a regular person in the world of TLT (though she would last about 0.5 seconds)
The tension between the Houses' ostensible gender equality and the misogyny that still persists is apparently also relevant to ATN. "John has set out to make a society on values he holds dear and cherishes and in some ways he has done really well... And in some way he has fucked it up beyond comprehension" (Maybe not an exact quote. My auditory processing is questionable.)
The backstory in NTN was planned right from the beginning
Lyctors "are not truly human any more. They've crystallised themselves" and "They have lost themselves and the only thing they've been able to hold on to is what other people make of them". She said she would have liked to make the Lyctors more alien but had to balance that with them being relatable narratively.
She is dying to read TLT fanfiction once she finishes the series.
I need a whole series or fic that’s just Ilya, Sasha, and Svetlana growing up together and being stupid and fucking and doing drugs and clubbing and just being stupid disaster teenagers and it also should include a group chat with a code
i think sasha & ilya have fully decked it out before fucking. like sasha has whole fist broken ilyas nose & ilya doesn't want to be his dad but he def threw something against the wall & he railed Sasha over a couch cushion w his nose dripping blood all over the fabric. sasha has also guilt tripped him into sex on numerous occasions
i think svetlana picks fights w ilya in the middle of clubs esp when they're both coked tf up abt how she's not his bitch and don't tell me what to fucking do you fucking manwhore and then they're standing in the middle of the street yelling & she's talking about what a fucking idiot he is for always fucking any girl that breathes in front of him & then they fuck abt it later bc they don't know how to communicate at all
i think ilya didn't do something sasha wanted as a kid (just like not enough attention or wouldn't go out with him the night before a morning practice idk) and he framed ilya for something else to his dad and ilya got took a chair thrown at his head in the locker room by the coach as part of a humiliation ritual and to teach the other boys a lesson
i think ilya gets mad when sveta starts pointing out that maybe he's not feeling so well or doing so well and do you remember how your mother- and he tells her to shut her fucking mouth what the fuck do you know you don't fucking know anything you don't know me at all you just want me to be a little project for you to fix and feel good about, have some claim over the great ilya fucking rozanov, and then slaps him across the face and they don't talk for a month.
i think sasha gets in trouble with his dealer and ilya has to blackmail the dude to save him. i think sveta takes the fall for hanging out with ilya in her bedroom after dark to keep her dad from realizing ilya was sleeping with another man. i think they all do ecstacy in a night club and wake up on top of each other on a sidewalk outside a penthouse none of them know & ilyas wallet is gone & sasha is wearing pants that don't belong to him & sveta's mouth is bleeding & they're all just like fuck that was so fucked what the fuck, silent cab ride home...and then later that night sashas other boy toy is throwing a rager so LET'S DO IT AGAIN!1!!1!!
i just know when shane rides ilya's dick he gets absolutely nasty with it. he's grinding down so hard ilya wonders if it's possible to break off. he's throwing his head back and groaning and grunting in a way he never does any other time. he's leaning back, bracing himself by gripping ilya's thighs and spitting down on his dick just to watch it slide down into ilya's happy trail. he's picking up the pace and bouncing so fast they're shifting around the bed as he moans out absolute filth.
"love this fat fucking dick, feels so fucking good, baby. want you stretching my tight little hole open all day, every day. would you like that, ilya? bet you'd love letting me use you like a cheap whore whenever i want, hmm baby? fuck yeah, you would. fill me the fuck up, rozanov. want your hot cum dripping down my thighs for days."
and ilya's holding onto shane's hips for dear life, mouth hanging open, staring in absolute awe and adoration for his perfect boy
thinking about ilya whispering softly into shane's ear as he softens up inside him after a brutal game on the ice. thinking about ilya rubbing shane's nape and calling him "pretty" and "cute" and telling him hes perfect. thinking about shane melting in ilya's big arms and letting tears flit down his cheeks. thinking about ilya allowing shane to be vulnerable in a non-sexual intimate way.
i know for sure ilya is obsessed with shane’s massive gigantic tights. he loves to lay his head between them while they’re watching something on tv. and he’s definitely sniffing, kissing and biting it sometimes, not in a manner that will evolve to sex, just because it’s there and he loves it. and shane always let him doing whatever he wants cus it’s the same thing with ilya’s chest
Ilya will pout. If he wants attentions, Ilya is not above whining and pouting to his husband to get what he wants. And Shane folds every time. He loves his dramatic baby of a husband too much to resist.
---
"You are mad at me," Ilya said suddenly from the other end of the couch.
Shane looked up with confusion at the sudden outburst. "What? No I’m not."
Ilya sighed and let his head fall back against the arm rest. "You must be. There is no other explanation."
"Why do you say that? Explanation for what?" Shane asked, letting his iPad fall into his lap. He adjusted his glasses a bit as they slipped down his nose.
Ilya crossed his arms and looked at the ceiling to keep his composure. "I have been on the couch with you for over ten minutes, and you do not touch me. You have not even looked at me. You must be mad if you do not want me."
Shane's jaw dropped slightly at the accusation. "Ilya, seriously? I’m not mad. I was focused on reading this contract for mom."
"No, is fine. I understand. You are tired of me now. Honeymoon is over," Ilya replied with another sigh, letting his head loll to the side. His voice had taken on that signature whine he only used when he was in a certain attention-seeking mood.
"Oh my god, you are ridiculous," Shane said with a huff. He knew what was going on now, and he had to resist laughing at the dramatics.
Ilya finally looked at Shane, sporting a pitiful look as if to say 'poor me' with his eyes. "First, my husband won’t touch me. Now, he says mean things about me."
"Ilya, come on. You know I didn't do it on purpose. I just get concentrated on things," Shane offered, playing into Ilya's little scene now.
"Yes, I know, but you usually still will touch me. At least acknowledge I am here," Ilya responded, sniffing at the end with a little pout on his lips.
Shane set his iPad aside and patted the couch beside him with an endeared smile on his face. He would never admit it, but Shane loved these little moments where Ilya indirectly asked for what he wanted. If a silly exchange was necessary to end up cuddling on the couch sometimes, Shane would never tell him to stop.
"You’re right. I’m sorry. I really was just focused on reading. It’s a lot of legal stuff so I had to concentrate. Come here."
Ilya let out a pleased hum and shuffled over to drape himself across Shane’s chest. His head quickly nuzzled into his preferred spot, and Ilya only had to wait a few seconds for Shane's hand to start running through his hair.
"Yes, much better. My husband loves me again."
Shane huffed a laugh before dropping a kiss on Ilya's head. "I never stopped, you big baby."
"Yours," Ilya mumbled into Shane's neck.
"Hmm?"
Ilya lifted his head just enough to kiss Shane's chin, and he repeated himself. "Your big baby."
Shane gently lowered Ilya's head back to his chest and squeezed him a little tighter in his arms. "Yeah, my big baby."
Shane has seen many different versions of Ilya over the years—parts of him that stick together to build an overall picture. A piece of stained glass, a mosaic; bright colors and shapes refracting off of one another to tell a story. There are feelings that are more nuanced, that live directly under his skin, but Ilya, if anything, lives his life loudly. It bleeds into everything he does.
He’s seen him incredibly pissed off, where his fingers draw into his fist, where he smiles with too many teeth, when clipped English isn’t enough. He’s known him horny; completely blissed out, lips wet and gaze lidded and his breath catching his chest. Shane’s seen him soft, and gentle and vulnerable, where he shares fragments of himself that he’s never allowed anyone else to perceive. He’s seen Ilya happy—genuine happiness, he thinks, that neither of them thought they’d ever get to have; the soft smiles, the protective gestures, the gentle touches that are now ingrained in everything that they are to one another.
He’s had him tired and goofy and nurturing and thoughtful and kind and a million other ways that can’t be counted on his fingers.
But this, Shane considers as he helps his husband into the cottage, might be one of his favorites.
“Extra step.”
Shane tilts his head down, squeezing Ilya’s waist to support his weight as he closes the front door with his foot. “What?”
“There is extra step. Before front door.” Ilya rubs a hand over his face and sighs heavily, like this might be the weight of the universe on his shoulders.
Shane smiles just a little, “You think I…what, exactly? Added an extra step to our front door after my conference call? That’s what I did with my time?”
“Da.” Ilya insists like Shane is the one who’s crazy and waves a hand out at the top step that’s always been there, which almost throws them off balance. “This is obvious.” He holds onto him like a barnacle, another huff leaving his mouth and yes, Shane thinks, this tracks.
Ilya is dramatic and clingy because he’s drunk; a fun outing with the Centaurs that Shane definitely would have been a part of if he hadn’t had a conference call with Reebok right after the game they played. But alas. Apparently his husband thinks he was installing an extra step to their entryway in his spare time while he waited for him to come home.
Shane locks the door with his spare hand, “C’mon, you weigh a ton.”
“YA logok, kak ptitsa.” Ilya mumbles.
Shane smirks out a laugh. Light as a bird? “Big fucking bird, maybe.”
He squeezes his hip, guiding him towards the stairs, towards their bedroom. It takes a few practiced steps to get them there, pausing every so often because Ilya says the room is spinning. He leans into Shane’s chest at one point and whines in a way he shouldn’t find so endearing.
“I know, baby,” Shane presses a kiss into his hair, “Almost there.”
When they get to their destination, Shane takes him into the bathroom first, sitting him on the closed toilet seat. He carefully unbuttons his shirt, tugging it off of him. He’s not going to get him into the shower. As much as that’d probably help sober him up, he’s way too wobbly on his legs, like Bambi, and Shane doesn’t want to risk it. Despite that, Ilya’s sticky with a bit of sweat, so Shane does the next best thing. He wets a washcloth in warm water and drags it over his shoulders and neck. His husband’s hands lazily find his waist, holding on, as if grounding himself.
Shane then stands between Ilya’s legs, tipping his chin up,
“Privet.” Ilya whispers.
Shane smiles, “Hi,” He replies, pausing to glide his fingers through his curls, gently scrubbing at his scalp. Ilya keens into the touch, practically purrs from it, making his stomach flutter. “Did you have fun tonight?”
Ilya nods, letting out a slow sigh. He’s quiet for a few moments, eyes closing when Shane begins to run the washcloth over his forehead and cheeks. He almost thinks he’s fallen asleep until he starts talking,
“Would be better if you were there.” He opens his eyes then, a bright blue that always reaches directly into Shane’s chest and squeezes. Ilya is so astoundingly beautiful; it somehow still takes him by surprise, even after all this time. He leans down and presses a kiss to the bridge of his nose.
Ilya swallows, clearing his throat, “Was looking for you. Troy does not know how to dance, practically embarrassment.” Shane smirks lightly, shaking his head, dragging the washcloth over his curls once before tossing it towards the hamper.
“I can’t claim to be much better.”
Ilya’s fingers slide under his shirt, not hinting at anything more, just wanting skin to skin. Shane understands the feeling. “Was hit on,” He admits, which isn’t a wild occurrence when they head to a bar or club together but there’s a crinkle to Ilya’s nose this time. Shane smiles again, lifting his thumb to run down the bridge,
“I told them I have husband; best in league.” He tips his head back again, holding Shane’s gaze, biting down on the inside of his cheek.
Shane can tell when the moment shifts, when Ilya begins to get emotional. It’s like this sometimes when he drinks, a pendulum sliding from right to left in what version he might get. On the one side, he can be horny and flirty, cocky and demanding, but on the other side is this, being cuddly and teary. Shane loves them both; he’ll take any version of Ilya, every version.
“You weren’t there.”
Shane cups both sides of Ilya’s face then, leaning down to kiss him. It’s slow and intimate and he bites down on a moan when Ilya slides his tongue into his mouth. He knows this is just something automatic, a comfort, rather than anything else. Ilya also isn’t saying these things about his night to guilt trip him; he’s just stating a fact. He missed him. He missed the time that they could have spent together. After years of being forced apart, Shane understands where he’s coming from.
“I know,” He repeats when he pulls back. He threads his fingers through Ilya’s hair again, enjoying the feel of his curls against his palm, “I’m here now, okay?”
Ilya nods, sniffling, shifting back just a little and wiping a hand over his cheek. Shane takes a step back, his fingers grazing his shoulder, thumb brushing over his collarbone.
“You gonna be sick?” Ilya shakes his head, “Want to go to bed?”
He waits until Ilya nods before helping him off the toilet, making sure he has his balance. Regardless of this, his husband leans into him fully, arms around Shane’s waist. Ilya squeezes him, smiling in that soft, affectionate way that makes his chest tighten.
“Gimmie kiss.”
Shane smirks, playing with a curl near his ear. “I just did.”
“Drugoy.” A pout of insistence.
Another; like Ilya is not above begging. Shane hums lightly, pressing their noses together before he kisses him. He keeps a firm hand on Ilya’s back, keeping their balance, and allows him to pull away first. There’s tangled Russian tumbling from his mouth, some that Shane recognizes, other phrases he doesn’t. Definitely an ‘I love you’ mumbled into his neck when Ilya’s forehead finds a home on his shoulder.
“C’mon,” Shane presses a kiss to his temple, guiding him into the bedroom. He unbuttons Ilya’s jeans before sitting him on the corner of the mattress, tugging the fabric down. Shane crouches, lifting each of his legs to get them off.
Ilya reaches out, touching Shane’s hair, dragging his fingers along his jawline before gently clasping his chin. “Shane.”
Shane smirks, kissing his fingers, “Ilya.”
He sighs out softly, leaning down until their foreheads touch. Shane rubs his hand along Ilya’s thigh, gently pressing soothing circles into his skin, “YA tak sil'no tebya lyublyu. YA khochu na tebe zhenit'sya.”
A laugh rumbles in Shane’s chest. He loves Ilya, too, “Well I got good news for you, we are married, Rozanov.”
Ilya pulls back, raising his eyebrows, like this is somehow new information even though he was telling everyone at the bar that would listen about his husband. Shane’s heart hammers in his chest and he can’t stop himself from cupping Ilya’s face again, peppering kisses everywhere until he feels Ilya smile.
He encourages him back into bed, tucking him under the blankets. When Shane pulls back, Ilya reaches for him, fingers curling around his wrist, “Stay.”
Shane soothes his fingers along his forearm, “I’ll be right back, I just want to get you some water.”
That seems to placate him for a moment and he moves quickly to the bathroom to grab him a glass, searching through the medicine cabinet for Aspirin as well. By the time he makes it back, Ilya is fast asleep, face pressed in Shane’s pillow, starfished in the middle of the bed. Shane can’t help but smile, crawling under the covers beside him, stretching his arm over Ilya’s back. He slides his leg between his and Shane’s lips find his shoulder, gently pressing his nose into Ilya’s skin and breathing him in before closing his eyes.
shane loves how deep ilya can get inside him with his cock. he loves when ilya is fucking him hard and fast but even more so when ilya is cumming because he snaps his hips up against shane's ass and keeps himself buried inside as he unloads into shane, and shane can feel the entire length of his cock occupying the space in his body. in addition to the feeling he loves visualising how deep ilya has gotten. if he could see into his body from the outside maybe ilya's cock would be buried halfway through his torso. spearing him like a thing. a toy. just a perfect glove for ilya's perfect dick.
lets circle back to how ilya is constantly trying to make cute sexy jokes about their relationship and shane ruins the light mood every time by being like no ilya. our ashes will be combined when we die so that our molecules can mingle until the sun consumes the earth
i think ilya bites shane out of cuteness aggression at first and then slowly realised how comforting having shane in his mouth is and so shane could be sitting reading on the couch and ilya would lean over and gnaw on his biceps. or if shane’s sitting too far away ilya rolls over and bites his thigh. if shane is wearing long sleeves and pants ilya bites his cheeks then lifts up the hem of his shirt to bite his stomach. shane doesn’t mind it at all and usually pets ilya’s hair while ilya’s at it.
sometimes ilya grinds his canine on shane’s bicep and it makes shane extremely horny
hudson williams will forever be the first person in history to ever accept a major acting award by noting that the character he portrays loves getting fucked in the ass. nobody can take that from him
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