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antimony-medusa · 7 months

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Is that— bells ringing? Keyboards clacking? The sound of two thousand stressed writers pancing furiously about the floor? Ah yes, Yuletide.

Hello. MCYTblr. I am back again.

You are looking fine today as we move towards the end of the year. Is that a new cologne you're trying? New shirt? New glasses? It's working for you. How have I been? Well.

Well.

*I smack the wall, curtains spring aside, revealing my flip chart presentation that I've had lying in wait*

It is time for me to talk to you about Yuletide again. I was here earlier during tag nominations, but it's sign-up time, and I want to make sure everybody has a change to participate in this if they want to.

What's Yuletide?

Yuletide is an annual mega-exchange for small and rare fandoms. It runs in the close of the year, with a 1000 word minimum for gifts, with gifts revealed anonymously on the 25th of December and de-anoned on the 1st of January. It is easily the biggest exchange in multi-fandom-exchange-world, and last year more than 1,350 people signed up.

Why does everyone sign up?

Well, it's tradition, for one. There are a lot of people that only do Yuletide as their big exchange every year. It's a big holiday spectacle, it's really fun to see it operate and see pinch hits come out and get nabbed in minutes, and people kind of put on their holiday outfits and turn out for it.

For another thing, if you are in a small fandom, it's the one exchange where you can actually have a shot of getting a gift for an obscure manga fandom, or an out-of-print book, or a tv show from the eighties. If your fandom has five people in it, the odds are higher than average that two of them are signing up for this exchange, and hey presto, suddenly you're matchable in your fandom for an obscure podcast.

For another, and this is the biggie, the fact that this is an exchange for small and rare fandoms has led to a certain tradition and vibe for the fandoms that people nominate. People bring their most obscure and fun ideas, going, "hehehehe wouldn't it be fun if someone wrote a story about this", and into the tag set it goes. There is SUCH a spectrum of fandoms in the tag set.

This year there are 4,263 fandoms and 16,735 characters in the tag set. Let me just skim through and look at some of them.

There are commercials, web sketches, art pieces, songs, music videos, board games, podcasts, a dizzying assortment of anthropomorphising different places, items, and ideas, and RPF from a marvelous variety of historical periods (so, y'know, historical fiction if it was published professionally). There are people who nominated tik tok sketches. Twitter threads. A bridge. Book binding techniques. You ever wanted to write a romance between Knitting and Crochet? That's in the tag set, and someone wants to prompt you to do that. Happy Yuletide.

So if you are at all the sort of person who likes a prompt challenge, BOY is this one just a MARVELOUS one. I know I personally am going to be signing up for Humans are Space Orcs (tumblr post) and Fandom Exchanges (Anthropomorphic) amid my more traditional fandoms.

And as for my more traditional fandoms, and the reason why this post has the tags it does (I would get to it eventually)— there is a lot of MCYT in the tag set! I put out a post saying GUYS, the smaller fandoms might apply for this, and BOY did people show up for it. I scanned through it, and the MCYT (and adjacent) that made it in is:

Karmaland SMP

Legacy SMP

Lifesteal SMP

Moonlight SMP

New Life SMP

Outsiders SMP

Rats SMP

SMPEarth

SMPLive

Witchcraft SMP

Pirates SMP

Mianite

Slimecicle Cinematic Universe

SBI Rust

Generation Loss

You could make an entire sign up, 3 minimum requests and 4 minimum requests, and only select MCYT fandoms. The wild thing is that you can only select a max of 10 fandoms to offer, so you actually couldn't offer all of the MCYT. ZombieCleo Witchraft SMP is in. Tommyinnit SMPEarth. Clownpierce Lifesteal. Tubbo SBI Rust. Oli Rats SMP. A wealth of options for the block folks.

So come, join me! What's that? You say this sounds excellent, you're in? You want to know how to sign up? Well this post is already long enough so I'm putting the rest below a cut.

You sign up on the collection here, using fandoms listed in the tagset here. Before you do so though, I'd recommend you check out the blog, especially their "how to sign up" post here, because even if you're used to exchanges, the way Yuletide works is a little bit different. Let me do a quick breakdown here.

Requests

# of Fandoms

You have to select a minimum of 3 fandoms that you are Requesting (a gift that you want made for you), up to a maximum of 6 fandoms. Each fandom has to be unique. For each fandom, you can request between 0 to 4 characters in that fandom, and 0 means "literally you can hit me with anybody", and the up-to-4 characters are the people you definately want to show up in the fic.

AND MATCHING

This is one of the things that Yuletide does differently, because most fandom exchanges do "or" matching, where they match you on either characer A OR character B, (maybe you only offered character B) and you can pick among any of the selected characters on the person's request to write for. Because Yuletide does AND matching, you will only be matched if you offered every single one of the characters the person has selected, and then you get to write for every single one they have listed in their fandom, unless they say differently in their letter. If they requested character A and Character B, you get to deliver a gift that includes them both, according to the rules.

Bu like, in practice, a lot of people are a bit more like "you can pick only one of these guys if you'd like", because that is how everyone is used to things running in most other exchanges, plus people don't want to be too picky, so you can specify in your letter if you definately 100% want characters A, B, and C, or if you're fine with just A, or just A and C, or whatever constellation of characters you're chill with.

This year they have added optional freeform tags you will click on, that will specify either A) use every single one of these guys I selected. B) I have specified in my letter which guys I need for sure and which ones you can swap, C) Dealer's Choice Of Guys Go Crazy.

DNW and Optional Details

Yuletide is an "Optional Details Are Optional" (ODAO) exchange, so technically you could request (or receive) an offer that just has the characters and then you get to go absolutely buckwild for the two month writing period. Most people, however, do not want to do that, so that is where you'll put in Do Not Wants (anything that would ruin the gift for you, from major archive warnings to kinks that you don't vibe with to headcanons you loathe), and some prompts and/or likes for your person to jump off of.

DNWs absolutely must be abided by, and breaking a person's DNW is grounds for getting turfed from the exchange. Following a person's prompts or lists of likes is technically optional, but definately best practice, and y'know, part of the whole spirit of the exchange. Most people are doing their best to adhere to both the DNW and the Optional Details when they do their gift.

You can just format your DNW and Optional Details on the Ao3 signup page (easy, fast), or you can link them offsite in a letter (fancy, you can do formatting, people do them in google docs or dreamwidth pages (the traditional and more accessible option)). There's a tradition of people posting their letter links here, so that people can get an idea for what sort of prompts and signups people are offering, and make sure they're matchable to people with especially fun ideas. Note: you do have to duplicate the data if you're doing a letter, cause if you put your DNW in your letter but NOT in your Ao3, the mods won't enforce it.

And while we're here, that last link is to a community blog that includes a place where you can promo your fandoms to lure people into signing up for your guys, or participate in mini-challenges within yuletide for people who specificially want poly relationships (Three Doves Challenge), or characters of colour (Chromatic Yuletide), or horror/darkfic (Crueltide), or smut (Yuleporn), or art (Wrapping Paper), or even more. There's even a poetry challenge!

Offers

# of Fandoms

You have to sign up with a minimum of 4 fandoms, to a maximum of 10, for fandoms you are Offering (a gift you are willing to make). You must offer at least 2 characters for each fandom, to a maximum of 20— but there's also an "any" tick box if you want to go full "hit me, I like a challenge" and you'll write anything (in the tag set) within a fandom. Each of your fandoms must be unique.

Writing Period:

Signups are open through the 21st, with assignments out by the 23rd, and then you have until the 18th of December to deliver your gift.

Important Notes

You must be 18 or over to participate in Yuletide (because you might be matched with someone who requests smut), and signups close on 9pm UTC on Saturday, 21 October.

There's a known issue where the safari browser isn't letting people sign up properly, (when you get an exchange this big sometimes things break), so they say to either sign up on mobile or use a different browser. So that will be fun for me.

And that's it! Yuletide! Just under a week left to sign up, and 351 people have signed up as I write this letter at 1:30am. I just refreshed it and now it's 352. You can sign up on the Ao3 page here!

JOIN ME EXCHANGES SUCH FUN LETS GO.

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jahayla-parker · 1 month

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🎆 Hey J!! Congrats on your 1.5 followers I'm so proud of you girl!! So for my request I was wondering if it could be a Peter Parker one where y/n is somehow transported into Spider-Man: Homecoming, Spider-Man: Far From Home, or Spider-Man No Way Home you pick and chaos ensues 💜

Multiverse : Peter Parker x Real-world!Reader

Descr: short fic in which y/n finds herself in her favorite movie and has to decide how to proceed.

Warnings: I’m not really great at these kind of AUs but other than that, I can’t think of any but let me know!

This sucks; I'm sorry, nothing was coming to me

Y/n bounced her right leg nervously as she looked around. She didn’t understand what was going on. One second she had been rewatching the latest Spider-Man movie, No Way Home from the comfort of her apartment. The next, she was standing in front of a glowing circle, identical to the ones that were portals in the movie she’d been watching. She hesitated briefly but nevertheless let her courage guide her into the multi-dimensional opening.

Y/n squinted as her eyes adjusted to her new surroundings. She quickly realized she’d somehow seemingly entered into the Marvel Cinematic Universe. How that was possible, she wasn’t certain. Had it not been for her literally pinching herself several times, she’d have thought she was simply dreaming. But she wasn’t. This was real.

Y/n slowly made her way across the bridge, stopping the moment she heard the fighting begin. She was actually in No Way Home.. or… in the universe that held the No Way Home events..? She wasn’t sure how to phrase it, it was all so bizarre. Either way, she knew from having seen the movie countless times already, that she ought to run and hide unless she wanted Dr. Octavius or Green Goblin to harm her.

Y/n let her feet guide her away from the immediate threat, only looking up when her legs came to a halt. She blinked rapidly as she found herself standing in front of Doctor Strange’s Sanctum. Of course she’d managed to make it here. Perhaps she should just go with the flow and try to help. After all, she knew how things would go, maybe she could prevent Tom Holland’s char Peter from getting hurt and May from dying.

That idea turned out too optimistic as Peter understandably was weary of y/n. It was one thing to bring people who knew him/Spider-Man from other universes. But a universe in which he was actually just a character and not real, that was another thing to digest. Nevertheless, Peter didn’t want to take any chances so he let her help him, Ned, and MJ.

It was a bit difficult at first to get Peter to trust her. As in his eyes, she seemed to be able to tell the future and was offering to stop the bad things before they happened. Luckily, having seen Far From Home, y/n understood why he was so weary of such a thing being too good to be true. So even when Peter trapped her in a sheet of webs as he demanded answers he could understand, she remained calm.

Once he had heard her out and understood that she meant no harm, Peter let y/n guide him on what to do and what not to do. There were some moments of chaos nonetheless as they were trying new things that y/n knew Peter hadn’t done in the movie before. But, she figured it was worth all the danger and chaos because she was helping her favorite superhero.

Only that too was much more intense than y/n had anticipated. Yet, she was simultaneously thrilled to be playing an active part in the movie she loved so much. Especially since they were now near the ending and May hadn’t died!

The only issue is y/n now had to return to her own universe. As much as she wanted to stay and make a place for herself in this one, she refused to risk ruining the MCU by accident. So, with a sigh, y/n closed her eyes as she said goodbye to this universe before stepping back into hers.

Taglist: @justapurrcat @natswife-marvelicious @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @galaxyholland @bigbirdstwins @mcushvft @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @theslayerofthevampires @wonderland2425

Peter Parker Navigation

Tom Holland Navigation

My Main Masterlist Navigation (All My Works)

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hollybell51 · 10 months

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It's ok - two

Navigation

Part one

Adam Warlock x AFAB!Reader

Marvel Cinematic Universe, Guardians of the Galaxy vol. 3 (outside canon)

Word count: 7.5K

Summary: you and Adam deal with the aftermath of the pollen debacle

Content: referenced sex pollen and associated dubcon, SMUT, agan maybe a bit of perviness, Adam being down bad, reader being down bad, blowjobs, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, Adam's not technically a virgin any more but still kinda is, reader definitely isn't, bit of angst, with a happy ending, getting together, fluff, light dirty talk, praise kink, light body worship, subby Adam, again potential ooc

Notes: this is part 2 so you gotta read part 1 for it to make sense. I hope I fixed the numerous moral issues with part 1's ending lmao also before you come at me for the shower stuff; I'm so white I'm practically reflective, so I do apologise to all my textured-hair girlies for my crimes against you with that... I hope praise kink Adam who loves tits makes up for it. enjoy.

Oh yeah, this is also on my AO3

You woke slowly, swimming up against the gravity of sleep as though it were mud. Your whole body was tingling with a pleasant warmth and heaviness, underpinned by something that wasn’t quite unease, or discomfort, but close enough. A shiver ran down your spine, and you pulled the blanket closer around your neck. Hold on. Blanket?

You shot upright, cursing as the cool air of the ship’s interior hit your bare skin. Of course. You vaguely remembered the sudden flush of heat that had overcome you, your suit constricting like it was being shrink wrapped to your skin, the incessant throbbing low in your stomach and then between your legs. Everything after that was foggy, as though you were watching a film with a hazy filter, shot through a curtain of water. But you could definitely see Adam’s concerned face close to your own, feel the echo of his hand on your back and on your forehead. And, well, everywhere else.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” he’d asked, as if you hadn’t been dreaming about that for months. Hell, you’d been imagining that exact eventuality as you’d frantically gotten yourself off on the floor of the shower.

Now, you wondered if he was ever going to look at you the same way. It had been quick, hard and rough and you felt bad now for how little thought you’d spared him. You weren’t even really thinking at all, your mind offered. He seemed ok. He came, didn’t he? You felt your cheeks heat at the memory, fuzzy as it was, of his face buried in the crook of your neck, hips jutting up against yours, strong arms wrapped around your waist and your name on his lips. It was better than anything your imagination had ever cooked up, and you were probably racking up some truly awful karma by stowing it away.

You sighed, pushing yourself off the bed and running a hand through your (mostly) dry hair, fingers catching in the mess of tangles. You were never going to skim information on anything ever again. Actually, screw that, you were never going to go outside again. At least without a full suit and helmet, oxygen tank and air filter included.

The blanket trailed behind you like a grotesque bridal train as you headed for the bridge, bare feet slapping faintly on the cool floors. It had felt nice earlier, but now you wished you’d kept track of your clothes. You’d left your underwear in the shower, hadn’t you? What had happened to your suit?

The ship was eerily quiet, the bridge deserted but for a pile you didn’t remember leaving on what had been your seat – still swivelled around to face Adam’s for the sole purpose of being able to watch him read the briefing and notes as you packed.

The pile, as it turned out, was a fresh suit and your underwear, bearing no traces of the frankly ridiculous amount of wetness that had made the walk back so uncomfortable, or shower water. Had he washed them for you? Then dried them, too? Your heart gave a pathetic little jump and twist at the thought. Adam didn’t deserve something like this. Maybe if it had been anyone else you’d have been able to live it down, laugh it off and thank them for the good times, but him? No way in hell.

You’d felt something towards the newest citizen of Knowhere almost as soon as you’d started really talking to him. He was funny once you’d gotten him to lighten up, and had practically jumped at the opportunity to help repair the damage to the planetoid, even if he’d been the one who caused a lot of it. There was so much genuine curiosity and wonder in him, the painfully obvious desire to do well – which you supposed came from the High Evolutionary and the whole Perfect Man thing – and the fact that he seemed to hang on your every word like it was the gospel… Well, you hadn’t stood a chance. It had only gone downhill from there, and before long you’d been wondering what it would be like to see what constituted the perfect man up close and personal. What would the hands that destroyed so much of your home, and then rebuilt it beside you, feel like on your bare skin? Would your arms fit around those broad shoulders as perfectly as you imagined? Would his lips be as soft as they looked?

You supposed you knew some of that now. You fit against him perfectly, like you were made for each other. His hands were painfully gentle, and much softer than you’d thought they’d be. You regretted that you hadn’t kissed him more, and done a better job of it. You cringed at the memory of your teeth clashing against his, not an ounce of coordination or forethought.

He’d been better at it when he’d kissed over your chest, sucked gently at the skin of your breasts. You could see a few faint marks as you did up your suit, far too ill-defined to be called hickeys. Guiltily, you wished you’d gotten him to leave more.

You were jerked out of that line of thought by something rustling onto the floor. A note, scrawled hastily.

“Dear (Y/N),” crossed out, then “To (Y/N),” crossed out again, finally just “(Y/N).”

You smiled stupidly. Who knew indecisiveness could be so endearing?

“I hope you’re ok.”

“Yep,” you whispered in return. “All fine here.”

“Sorry I left. I hope you’re not cold. I didn’t want to wake you up so I didn’t dry your hair.”

God, this man.

“I washed your clothes for you, but I incinerated the other suit. Sorry. It had pollen on it. Don’t worry, I made sure it’s all gone.”

You sighed. “Thank you, Adam.”

“I’ve gone out, but I’ll be back in no more than three hours.” There was time here, too, underlined and in parenthesis. He had about half an hour left. Shit, had you been out that long? Seriously?

The next line started with “I h” but the rest was so heavily crossed out you couldn’t even begin to guess what it said. It was followed by “I hope you’re ok” again, then another bout of heavy censorship before his name. You wondered how he’d originally signed it, but quickly squashed that. Nope.

“Alright,” you said to the note. You felt a bit stupid checking your surroundings as you folded it and placed it in your pocket, but hey, it might come in handy. For reports or future references or… something.

How was he being so goddamn nice? A heavy stone of guilt settled in your stomach, along with the distinct sense that he was doing this because he didn’t know better. He was so eager to please, to do good, that he’d probably just assumed fucking you – letting you fuck him was probably a more apt description, actually – was the natural solution to the pollen problem. And yeah, you’d heard the part about dying if you didn’t (which you thought was ridiculous, frankly, and probably said something about humans and their suitability for anywhere outside Earth) but it still didn’t sit right with you. Not even a little.

Something beeped on the console, the light for the door flashing cheerfully. “He’s back!” it seemed to be saying. “He’s back, he’s back, he’s back!”

“Yeah, alright,” you muttered, flicking it off. “Think of the devil.”

“What devil?”

You jumped. Actually genuinely jumped before you turned towards the voice. “Figure of speech.”

“Oh,” said Adam, boots thudding dully on the floor as he crossed the space. “Did you sleep ok?”

“Yeah. Thanks for… this.” You didn’t know what to do with your hands. Fuck, why were your hands so sweaty? And since when had he looked good good in that damn suit? It was ugly on everyone, no matter how pretty they happened to be without it.

Oblivious to the mini meltdown in your head, as he should be, Adam pulled off his gloves and set them down on his seat with a soft thwump noise. “That’s ok. Sorry I didn’t stay, I didn’t want to disturb you, and then I figured you’d be out for a while, then I thought maybe I should just get it over with since I can…” A pause, a breath, then, “Go out there.”

“Yeah,” you smiled, “it’s fine. I’d have done the same.” Should you mention the note? No, you decided. It was staying tucked away in your pocket forever.

He shrugged, then held up his arms. “I didn’t get any on me, by the way.”

Right, yeah, the pollen. The pollen that had turned you into a goddamn nymphomaniac. You supposed it was going to come up, and better to just bite the bullet, right?

“Adam,” you started, stepping around your chair to face him.

His eyes followed every movement, as if he was memorising the way a person walked. Up close, you could make out a faint bronze tinge to his golden face, most likely from the heat outside. You could have studied it for hours.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. It came out quieter than you’d have liked, huskier and less sure of yourself. You forged on. “I didn’t want you to feel like you had to do anything, and I just… I…” Deep breath, look him in the eyes. “Thank you. For helping me. I know it’s how the whole ‘saving people’ gig usually goes but… you did. So, uh, thanks.”

Maybe it was trite. Maybe it was a poor choice of words, but Adam didn’t seem to think so. Very carefully, as though he were afraid of somehow hurting you, he reached out and took your hand. His skin was warm and smooth to the touch as it had been before (after all, why should it have changed?), and just like it had in the shower, his thumb moved in little circles over the back of your hand.

“It’s alright,” he said, sincere as anyone and only just tinged with something that might have been regret’s cousin. “You didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Yeah, I… yeah.” You couldn’t help the little huff of laughter that escaped you. You didn’t have much of a choice? Carefully, you lifted your gaze from the hypnotic movement of his thumb. It was odd how such a tiny gesture, such a light touch, could suffuse your entire being with such warmth. It wasn’t like the heat from earlier, it was gentle and soft and the fact that you clung so desperately to it probably said more about you than him, but still… “I’m glad it was you, Adam.”

You could have sworn he stood straighter, and that the lines of his shoulders became less harsh. Maybe it was just the smile he was giving you, genuine and sweet, and wow you’d never felt so undeserving of a damn facial expression.

He nodded. “I didn’t realise it could feel like that.” Then, at your frown, “Sex, I mean. I didn’t understand why people liked it so much, but now I think I do.”

Oh. Oh. Right. That bit. Of course you were going to have to talk about that bit too. Looking back, you were pretty sure that you’d have thought absolutely anything was top-notch in the state you were in, and from what you remembered, the actual mechanics of it had been very one-sided. You had, if you were honest, simply fucked yourself on top of him.

But you were not going to say that. Instead, you snorted and let your hand fall from his. “You’ve been having sex with the wrong people, then.” Not that I’m the right one, or anything. But maybe I could have been.

Adam eyed your hand, then shrugged and turned towards the panel. “I hadn’t had sex with anyone before you,” he said as he unclipped his radio and dropped it onto one of the few free spaces.

Woah. Woah, hold on, rewind. He what? That was the first time for him? That? The guilt-stone had become a bloody guilt-boulder, and were you being dramatic or had the ship just wobbled?

“What?”

He turned back towards you, frowning. “I hadn’t done it before. Are you ok?”

“Oh God.”

“What? Is something wrong?” He was back in front of you, hands ghosting over your shoulders and arms as your mind raced. You hadn’t even considered that. Well yeah, you had, in various imagined scenarios and fantasies none of which involved the prospect of your death if you did not have sex with him.

“Yeah, I–” You took a breath, forcing yourself to look at him. How the hell were you going to explain this? Should you? Would it just make it worse? But no, you owed him this at least. “Adam,” you said as gently as you could, “your first time should be with someone you want, because you want to do it with them. It shouldn’t be to save someone’s life, let alone someone who… Fuck, Adam, I’m sorry.”

He had a firm grip on your shoulders now, and that damned thumb was giving you the comfort treatment there, too. You wondered if he realised he was doing it. “Don’t be,” he said. “I still liked it. And I did want to do it with you. I know it was only me because there’s no one else here, but I still… I still wanted you.” He paused, then, “I just wish it had been you you.”

Yeah, so did you. But that wasn’t what stuck with you. He’d wanted you. He’d liked it, shit as it had probably been from his end. “You…” You stopped, swallowed. “You wanted me, too?”

He just nodded, searching your face. The tinge of bronze had deepened to copper.

“Oh.”

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but I think about you a lot. I wondered– wondered what it would be like to kiss you. Touch you, feel you like… like that.”

Again, all you could manage was a soft “oh,” acutely aware of his closeness, how he filled your vision, the temperature of the ship (which seemed to have risen), and his hands through your clothes. “And?”

His breath hitched in his chest, and his voice was low when he answered. “I’d have liked to kiss you, stay with you afterwards. Tell you… Tell you that you’re important to me, and I don’t ever want to see you in pain again.”

You drew your own breath. How could this be happening? This didn’t exist outside your mind. It really shouldn’t even exist in your mind. But you heard yourself speak all the same. “You could. Kiss me, I mean. If you still want to.”

His thumb stilled. “Are you sure?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, moving a fraction of a step closer. “I’d like you to.”

You did not like cliches. You did not like to be trite or banal, but you could have sworn you were living in slow motion as Adam leaned down the few inches between you, his lips brushing yours in a kiss so soft it was almost chaste.

You tilted your face towards his before he could pull away, parting your lips ever so slightly, leaning into the warmth at your shoulders. He seemed to get the idea, his hands sliding effortlessly up your neck to cradle your face, fingers caressing your jaw and cheeks, your own hands settling on his wrists. Your heart thudded wildly, and you felt for all the world like a schoolgirl playing truth or dare at a sleepover, a teenager spinning the bottle with the boy you liked sitting across from you, a Guardian of the goddamn Galaxy being touched so gently by the guy you’d ridden six ways into next week not three hours ago.

You pulled back first, but barely. “I didn’t do a very good job of this before, did I?”

“It wasn’t too bad. Not what I expected.” You could feel the words on your skin, your face so close to his that his features were slightly blurred. His breath was warm against your lips.

“Mm,” you sighed, “that’s not usually how it goes.”

“Oh. Ok then.” He dipped back down momentarily, pulling away just as fast. “I like this a lot better.”

“Me too,” you smiled, stretching up to kiss him again. This was firmer, more direct. This time his lips were parted too, and he gave a pleased little hum when you moved against him. You let go of his wrists, mourning the loss of his hands on your face for a moment before you mimicked the position, pulling him closer to you. He was good at this, and you vaguely wondered if it was just the sex part that was new to him. His hands had settled at your waist, holding you steady and he hummed into your mouth, a sound that you could have listened to forever.

“I wanted this for so long, Adam,” you murmured between kisses. “I thought about you too, you know.”

“(Y/N)...” Adam paused, raising a hand to press against your forehead.

You just smiled, pressing into his touch. “It’s all me, don’t worry.”

He nodded, following your lead as your tongue slipped along his lip, a tiny moan caught between his mouth and yours when you slid it alongside his. He tasted like the falsely sweet nutritious bars you never seemed to run out of, warm and smooth and so soft. How could a person’s mouth be that soft? Now you really felt bad for the borderline assault you’d launched on it earlier.

You’d ended up with your hands on his shoulders, half bracing yourself and half mapping out the contours of his upper arms, neck, collar and chest. Your fingers slid easily through his hair where it brushed his neck, dipping occasionally under the high collar. You needed to get someone onto redesigning those.

He was holding you so close you wondered if he was trying to somehow pull you into him, his grip firm and decisive on your hips. Carefully, experimentally, you pushed your pelvis against his, a bolt of heat shooting through you at the hardness already growing there. He cursed, muffled by the fact that his tongue was in your mouth, welcome as anything he was giving you.

“Is this–?” you started, but he cut you off.

“Yes,” he breathed, drawing back enough to look at you. He was really flushed now, lips swollen and so, so pretty, eyes bright with want. “Yes, (Y/N).”

“Are you sure? No lives on the line here.”

He smiled, stroking your hip gently. “I’m sure.”

“Ok.” You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before taking his hand and leading him towards the bed you’d woken in, your steps sure and determined. He sat, as he had before, watching you expectantly. You considered simply shedding your clothes and letting him take the lead. Maybe you could sit on his lap and jerk him off, show him how to touch you. Maybe.

“Can I?” you asked as you stood between his legs, fingers toying with the fastenings of his clothes.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “Yes.”

“Would you like me to?”

Again, “yes.”

You smiled, running your hand up to cup his cheek. “You gotta help me out.”

“Mhm.” He nodded, kissing your palm before reaching up to peel off the suit, rolling the material smoothly down his arms, his chest, letting it bunch at his hips.

This was not the first time you’d seen him without a shirt. There’d been the aftermath of the face-off with the High Evolutionary, for one, and you definitely remembered stripping him before. A few moments where he or you had entered the other’s space as he’d been pulling a shirt on or a suit up, nothing more than a glimpse of midasian shoulders, the ripple of a smooth back, the hint of a belt of muscle. You’d carefully stowed every inch of gleaming gold in the deepest recesses of your mind.

Now you could touch, too. You bent to kiss him as your fingers curled around the ball of his shoulder, revelling in the little sigh he gave when you dragged your hand down to his sternum. His heart thudded under your palm, and you swore you could feel the warm rush of his blood beneath his skin as you slid your touch sideways, your hand now splayed over his ribs.

He whispered your name as you moved your kisses to his jaw, still soft, gradually trailing down his neck. Goosebumps prickled under your hand when your tongue brushed his skin, the sharp rush of his breath stirring your hair when you sucked ever so lightly at the junction of his neck and shoulder. Lower, over his heart, tiny bronze marks standing out against the smooth gold. You felt the skin of his stomach twitch as your fingers met the waistband of his underwear, and you paused.

“Is this alright?” you asked, craning your neck to look at him.

“Yes.” His eyes were closed, lips parted, cheeks flushed, and you didn’t think you’d ever seen anything so beautiful.

“This?” You slipped your hand under the material, tracing the deep v of his pelvis.

“(Y/N), please–”

Oh wow. The too-tight, too-hot feeling was back, only this time its cause wasn’t sprinkled all over you. He was looking at you like you were an oxygen tank and he was drowning, and how could you ever have said no to that?

“I can’t do it all by myself,” you smiled, pulling at the bunched and folded material circling his waist, “you gonna help out?”

He assured you he was, lifting his hips and kicking his pants down to his ankles. It was then that you both realised he still had his boots on. He cursed softly, apologised, bent to unlace them before your hands on his stopped him. You knew what you were doing now, and exactly where you were going.

“Let me?” you said as you knelt between his legs, your fingers already at work.

“Oh,” he whispered as he watched you. “(Y/N), you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” you replied simply. “I wanna take care of you, Adam. Can I?”

“Yes.” It was a sigh, and his eyes when you met them were so full of what could only be described as awe that you wondered if he’d actually heard you. You ran your hands up his muscular thighs, wriggling closer to the edge of the bed, forcing his legs further apart. You bent, laying a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses across his stomach, marvelling at the smoothness and warmth of his skin, the faint tang of sweat and something else that was distinctly Adam.

“You took care of me,” you whispered as you pulled off his underwear. “I wanna return the favour.”

He was hard, you’d felt – and seen – that much already. What you hadn’t seen, and had failed to even consider in any detail, was that his dick would be – that any dick could be – so damn pretty. It was metallic as the rest of him, ample as you’d felt earlier, flushed copper and fuck you wanted to put it in your mouth right now.

“Is…” He paused, breathing hard. “Is that ok?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly. “Yeah, Adam, you’re perfect. You’re just… You’re perfect.”

He sighed again, this time with something close to relief. “Oh. Ok. That’s… That’s good. Thank you.”

“Can I touch you?” You’d already touched him practically everywhere else, and had done a little earlier, so you didn’t expect that moan that slipped from him.

“Yes, please,” he breathed. “Please, (Y/N), go ahead.”

Go ahead, whispered into your neck before you’d sunk down on that dick. So of course, you spat into your hand and wrapped your fingers around him, moving your hand gently to coat the whole thing in moisture. Adam’s thigh tensed under your free hand, his breath catching in his chest. You watched his face carefully as you found a rhythm, mapping every vein and curve, the swell of the head, the wet slit which you slid your thumb over – making his hips jerk ever so slightly into your grip.

“So beautiful,” you whispered as his hand came to rest on your shoulder. “You’re so perfect, Adam. How’d I get so lucky? What’d I ever do to deserve you?”

Your name was little more than a sharp intake of breath, and you smiled as you continued your movements. His hand slid up to your hair, around the back of your neck, fingers dipping under the collar of your suit. “Your clothes,” he said softly.

“Off?” You paused, relishing in the feel of his hand on you. It had been magnified thousand-fold earlier, every brush of his skin lighting you on fire. This was less severe, though not by much.

“Mhm.”

“Ok.” You turned your head, kissing his hand before it slipped from you as you stood. You were less graceful than Adam was in undressing, and you knew you were no stripper, but his eyes still followed every movement raptly, as though he were memorising every inch of skin you revealed. You kicked your suit aside, stepping back into place between his legs as you cast off your bra.

Adam’s hands were quick to settle on your hips, dipping under the waistband of your underwear. “Do you want help with this, too?”

“Yes,” you smiled as you brought your hands to his hair. You’d vaguely noticed that it was softer than you’d expected, and didn’t catch easily between your fingers, but that he’d seemed to like it when you’d pulled it a little. You could explore that more later, you supposed, too focussed on the way he slid the garment down over your thighs to pool at your feet. He hummed quietly as you continued to card through his hair, fingers stroking his scalp gently.

You followed his movement as he ducked lower, sucking a harsh breath through your teeth when you felt him kiss your hip bone, his tongue warm and silken. He did again, his moan soft moan when your fingers involuntarily tightened in his hair stifled by your pelvis. He was copying you, you realised, giving you a belt of kisses just like you’d done to him. Except he was moving lower now, becoming sloppier, gently sucking every now and then.

“What’re you doing?” you asked softly, frowning down at him.

“I want to taste you,” he murmured, not raising his head. “Want to make you feel good.”

Oh God. This man, you thought for the second time and certainly not the last. You laughed, the growing heat in your gut throbbing indignantly as you pulled him gently away. He pressed his cheek into your hand again as you let it fall from his hair, his brow pinched in confusion.

“Next time,” you told him, “ok?” Then, “And you already made me feel good. You fucked me so good it saved my life. Now it’s my turn, hm?”

He seemed to consider that for a moment, then the confusion cleared and he nodded, turning his head to kiss your wrist. He didn’t break eye contact as you knelt once more, rubbing your hands over his thighs again, up to his hips where you caressed the little belt of copper marks. You matched now. How cute.

You leaned forwards, kissing the spot where his leg met his body. If you turned your head just an inch, your mouth would be on his cock. It was hot to the touch, still wet with your makeshitft lube, still flushed deep bronze, now beaded with precum at the tip.

You looked up, meeting his eyes. “You tell me if you wanna stop, ok?”

“Ok.”

That was all you needed. You licked up the shaft, ignoring the twitch of his hips and the sharp gasp it conjured. He moaned – really moaned – when your lips closed over the head, then again, louder, as you relaxed your mouth and sank down on him. What didn’t fit in your mouth was taken care of by the hand that wasn’t holding his hips down, not that you’d be able to do much if he decided to face fuck you.

“(Y/N),” he panted, “oh my– (Y/N).”

“Good?” you mumbled, though it sounded nothing like the word. He seemed to get the idea.

“Yes, yes it’s– you’re– Oh!”

You’d sucked, hard, hollowing your cheeks and sliding your head down as far as you could. You drew back, tongue swirling around the tip of his cock before you did again. And again, and again.

He groaned your name as you sped up, hand moving in tandem with your mouth, hot and heavy against your tongue. His hand had found its way to your hair, not pushing or pulling, just resting on the back of your head as you practically swallowed his dick.

You’d never had a problem giving head. Liked it, sure, if the guy was nice, but you hadn’t loved it, and had never understood people who did. Now, as Adam cursed and whispered your name, all of it liberally punctuated by stilted moans and the occasional whine or grunt, you thought you got it. The idea that it was you doing that to him, you and you alone teasing forth those heady noises and making his body twitch and jerk like that… You could happily get on your knees for him every day of the rest of your life if this was what it was like every time.

You breathed deeply through your nose, the warm, sweet and very Adam smell of him managing somehow to overpower the ever growing mess of spit and a little sweat your hand was sliding through. Maybe with anyone else it would have been gross, but here it only forced your own soft moan before trickling to join the wetness growing between your legs. Earlier, as your mind had cleared, right as Adam had been lifting you off his lap, you’d decided that you never wanted to be aroused ever again. You were very happy that wish hadn’t come true as you squeezed your thighs together, eager for any friction you could get.

You could taste the saltiness of his precum at the back of your throat, feel the throb of his cock on your tongue as you relaxed even further, taking him deeper than you’d tried before. You prayed you weren’t about to make yourself throw up on him.

“(Y/N),” he choked, thumb rubbing tiny circles where it rested in your hair. That was going to be a bitch to untangle.

“Hm?”

“You’re so–” He broke off as you sucked hard, the muscles of his thighs and stomach tensing. “Ah, you’re so beautiful. So soft, you’re so… Oh, (Y/N)--”

You’d sped up at the praise, fuelled by the tiny, restrained thrusts into your mouth and the tightening of his hand in your hair. He was close, you could feel it, and you wanted nothing more than to make him cum in your mouth.

“So much,” he groaned. “It’s so… so much, I–”

You squeezed gently at his thigh, a silent reassurance. He’d cum before – in you, no less – but maybe you should have started with something that you could talk to him through. You could have used your hand and told him that it was ok, that he was doing well, while you kissed him and he made all those beautiful noises against your lips. Hell, you could have gone straight to the ninth yard and let him fill you up again, given him control.

Too late now, you supposed. His cock twitched, hips stuttering, whole body tensing. You squeezed his thigh again, I’ve got you, it’s alright, as he groaned deeply. His chest heaved, head tipped back as he came down your throat, hot and thick and salty. You didn’t stop your movements, hand and mouth working him through his high until there was no more. You pulled back and, after a moment’s hesitation, gently licked away the mess of your own spit coating him.

You sat back on your heels, hand still resting on his shaking leg, and took him in. He shone with more than his usual iridescence, a sheen of sweat clinging to his torso, some pieces of hair sticking to his forehead, face and neck flushed so prettily, breath still coming hard and fast. You’d done that. You’d made him look like that. You were responsible for the pure, raw pleasure painted in every line of his being.

“That was…” He broke off, swallowing hard before opening his eyes. He blinked, looked down at you on the floor, smiled. “That was incredible.”

You smiled back, taking his hands in both your own. “You taste fucking divine,” you whispered as you kissed his knuckles. “And you did so well.”

You couldn’t tell past the orgasm-glow, but you thought he might have blushed. “You’re so… so beautiful, (Y/N),” he repeated. “And so warm, and soft, I–”

Now you were blushing, heat rolling up your neck, over your cheeks. “You’re beautiful,” you said softly as you stood, leaning down to press your lips against his. They immediately parted, tongue sliding beside your own, eager and exploratory. You shivered as his hands came to rest on your hips once more, pulling you closer as he shuffled backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed.

“Adam,” you murmured, still bent over him.

He tried to pull you closer still, gently, but still insistent. “What?”

You tried not to laugh at the hint of frustration in his voice. “Bed’s in the way. I can’t get any closer.”

“Yes you can.” He broke away, frowning. “Just sit on me.”

“Sit on you?” You glanced at his lap, back up again, raising your eyebrows. Did you hear that right?

“Yes. Sit on me.” He pulled again, and you were struck suddenly by the realisation that he really didn’t have to ask – or tell – you to do anything. If he wanted you on top of him that badly, he could easily pick you up and place you there without breaking a sweat. Hell, he could throw you across the room if he really got the urge. But he wasn’t forcing you. Even the pressure on your hips was gentle enough that you could have pulled away any time you wanted.

“Ok,” you smiled, steadying yourself on his shoulders as you knelt over his thighs.

“You can relax,” he urged, his hands running down over your hips to your thighs, back up again and over your waist, around to your back. His arms circled you, head bent as he mouthed at your neck. “Don’t have to hold yourself up.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok.” You relaxed your legs, sinking down to rest atop his. He hadn’t stopped the attention he was giving to your neck, nosing your hair aside to kiss under your ear, along the hollow of your jaw, over your jugular, right across the tendons at the base of your throat. You tipped your head back for him, sighing in satisfaction as you ran your hand through his hair. His palms were warm where they pressed into your back, his chest and stomach smooth against your own.

“Closer,” he whispered under your ear, pushing you further up his legs.

You shifted, your stomach backflipping as your pelvis met his. He hummed into your skin, pressing you harder against himself, his cock hard again and hot where it lay between your bodies. His mouth had moved lower, to your breasts, sucking and licking at the sensitive skin just as gently as he’d done to your neck.

“You don’t have to be so gentle,” you breathed, rocking your hips.

“Hm, I don’t want to hurt you.”

You smiled at that. “You won’t, I promise. I wanna see this tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that, and maybe even the day after that, too.”

You felt him nod, and then moaned because yes he was really using his mouth now. His teeth grazed your skin as he sucked a dark mark just below your collar bone, soothing it quickly with his tongue. He looked up at you momentarily for approval, and at your smile, bent again to repeat it. Yep, you were going to be seeing those for a while.

“Adam,” you gasped as he stooped lower, leaving a trail of wet hickeys down the centre of your chest.

“Hm?”

“I know I was kind of – oh – in control last time,” you started, biting your lip as he turned his attention to your breast. “Do you want – fuck, yes – to try being in charge?”

“No,” he said after a pause. He looked up, hand ghosting up your side to stroke a particularly large and dark hickey. “I liked it.”

That wasn’t what you’d been expecting. He was always so happy to go along with whatever everyone else was doing, which you supposed was another side effect of Sovereign upbringing, you’d assumed he might like to take the lead. He seemed to be having an excellent time exploring your body at his leisure.

“Ok then,” you smiled as you ground against him. “Do you want me to do it again?”

“Yes.” His breathing was heavy as he nodded. “Please, (Y/N).”

“Ok.” You reached down, taking his cock in your hand. “Ready?”

He broke away from your chest, looking up at you like you’d hung the bloody stars. His hand joined yours as he closed the distance, kissing you softly at first, then with less coordination as you lined him up and sank down, sighing against his lips. His fingers gripped your thigh, tight enough that you wondered if they were leaving marks, a deep groan echoing through the space between you.

“Alright?” you murmured, your voice not half as steady as you’d have liked.

“Alright,” he echoed. He stroked up your leg, under the back of your thigh, squeezing gently at the soft flesh of your ass and lifting you. You wondered if he was trying to get you off him for a second, then he was lowering you back onto himself and it clicked.

“Like this?” you asked, rocking your hips over his. God, he fit so perfectly, it was like he’d been made for you, the way his cock stroked every inch of your insides, sliding smoothly with how wet you were. How had you glossed over that the first time?

“Yes, yes,” he sighed. “(Y/N), you’re– yes, like that.”

You wondered if he knew what he was doing to you as you practically whined, steadying yourself against his shoulders just as you had before. His arm was around your waist, holding you close as you lifted and lowered your hips, your chest brushing his with every movement.

His lips had returned to your neck, warm and soft. “Is this good?” he asked as he sucked at the as yet unmarked skin there. “For you?”

Wow, you were ruined for anyone else. “So good, Adam,” you whispered, running your hands over his shoulders, the back of his neck. “You feel so fucking good.”

He groaned deep in his chest, his hips jerking up into yours. And oh if that didn’t turn you on more than you already were. Just your words could have that effect on him. Eight little words and your touch, and he did that. The power was intoxicating.

“What you do to me,” he was saying, guiding your movements. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

“Yeah?” You slid one hand down, trailing over his chest and stomach before finding the mess of heat and slick and sweat where your body met his. Your fingers danced over your clit, a sharp hiss of air between your teeth.

“No idea,” he repeated, the words gliding over your skin like water.

“Fuck,” you moaned, “fuck, Adam. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

You felt him smile. “Hm?”

“You feel fucking amazing,” you hissed past the steady pleasure-ache of his cock hitting that place deep inside you, your fingers on your clit. It was building with every slap of your hips against his, hot and tight.

“Oh, (Y/N)--”

“Love feeling you fill me up,” you continued. “Dreamed about what it’d be like.”

“What is it like?”

“Like – fuck, Adam – it’s like fucking Heaven, I swear–”

He groaned your name again, desperate and God, you were so close.

“You look like Heaven,” you panted, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling his head back. You searched his face past the pleasure-haze already clouding your vision, dipping down to kiss him hard. It was as messy as the first not-quite-kiss had been, all tongue and breath and your whispered “so fucking pretty” as you licked into his mouth.

“So are you,” he managed, hands kneading at the soft skin of your waist and hips, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.

“Love hearing you say my name,” you went on, your fingers working harder and faster. “All those sounds you make, so perfect–”

“(Y/N).” He said it like a prayer, like an incantation, and if that wasn’t the hottest thing you’d ever heard, you didn’t know what was.

“Gonna make me cum, Adam holy shit–”

He thrust harder up into you, lips fastened to the hollow under your jaw, moving you hard and fast against himself. “Yes, do it, cum on me,” he babbled. “Let me make you feel good.”

That did it. The bomb of pleasure inside you exploded, fizzing out though your legs as you spasmed around him, a desperate cry of his name torn from you. You held him tight, fingers twisting in his hair, half conscious of his own litany of curses and praises and your name repeated throughout as he continued to move your boneless body. He spilled hot inside you, and when you finally regained control of your mind, he was breathing hard against your chest and shoulder.

“Are you alright?” you asked, combing your fingers through his hair.

“Yes,” he nodded. His grip on you had loosened considerably, his hands roaming soothingly up and down your back. “Are you?”

You sighed, then laughed as you drew back. His brow furrowed as you held his face between your hands. “Am I alright?” you echoed incredulously. “Adam, you are amazing.”

The frown deepened. “So… yes?”

“Yes.” You leaned down, pressing your lips to his. This kiss was gentle, slow and thorough, and he smiled at you when you parted. “Will you stay this time?” you asked.

“Yes.” Then, “Can I clean you up again?”

“Yes.” You sighed as he effortlessly shifted you off himself, setting you gently on the bed. You could feel his cum leaking slowly out of you, the air cool against your sweat, his spit still on your skin, and the mess of arousal around your crotch. He wasn’t in any better shape, really, but still he moved with ease and grace towards the doorway, returning in record time with a damp cloth.

Something inside you ached with how gentle he was. Thorough, but he drew away at the slightest hint of discomfort. He’d done this before, you supposed, when you’d been asleep. You remembered him telling you he was going to clean you up, had heard his footsteps retreating, but had dozed off before he’d returned. Still, you’d woken up relatively clean, and there’d been the blanket, too. If it had been anyone else the thought would have made you feel violated, perhaps, but not with him. With him it made your heart melt.

“Let me,” you said softly when he’d finished, taking the cloth and wiping at the mess around his crotch with a clean portion. You tossed the cloth aside when you were done, shuffling backwards, pulling him to lie with you. It took some wriggling, but eventually you settled face to face under the blanket, his arm draped over your ribs, fingers toying with the hair at the back of your head, your own hand splayed over his heart.

“I meant it,” he said softly. “What I said before.”

“Hm?”

“You’re important to me.” Although the bronze had faded from his face, leaving it the shining gold you were used to, his lips were still slightly swollen, his eyes bright. In the dimness of the corner of the room, with the light behind him, he seemed to glow.

“Oh,” you smiled, then sighed as you shifted barely an inch closer “You’re important to me too, Adam.”

He leaned forward over the tiny gap, kissing your lips ever so gently. “Can we… do this again? When we’re back?”

“Yeah. I’d like to.” You paused, taking your turn to kiss him. “I like being with you,” you whispered as you pulled away.

Adam smiled. His hand flattening against your shoulder blades, he pulled you in against his chest. His skin was so warm, and you could hear his heart beating, feel his breathing.

“I like being with you, too.”

Note: I feel like this wasn't quite up to par with what I've written in the past, and I'm genuinely not sure why or how I can fix it. I've re-read both of these like five times now (after finishing them) and have edited them endlessly, but I just can't seem to make them feel right. Anyone else every get that? Either way, hope you guys enjoyed these x

#adam warlock #adam warlock smut #adam warlock x reader #adam warlock x you #mcu #marvel #gotg3 #gotg vol 3 #fanfiction #fanfic #shameless smut #smut

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kingscourthouse · 1 year

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This is a Ren Cinematic Universe moment

Did a quick update on my Ren designs. Note: King RenTheKing isn't included because I don't see him as someone separate from ren himself. Grimm (Demised RenBob) is my own mini au I guess? Don't really know what he would be, but I like to imagine him n Grim are a team in killin'.

If anyone cares, details on them below!

Base things on all of them: All of them have some sort of enchanted band on them with protection. If they were to remove it, they would just be some big dogs. (This way I get both Ren and dog Ren >:D)

Have you seen those glasses without the arms just pinch to your nose bridge? Yeah, they kinda need them. Dog ears lol.

They all have diffrent versions of Ren's facial hair. Obvi Grimm's is based on Renbob's and the others are based on Ren's. Example, Red still has the same shape of stubble like ren, but his is much thicker and a bit messier like his hair.

Their hand nails are all diffrent too if that counts.

Ren: Legit just basic Ren Diggity Dog. Pan flag colours on his ear peircings. Leg coverings are layers of leather that button in the back to keep them from being too damaged while working. Prot band is on his left arm. It's made of netherite so it can't be destroyed...unless he runs into a cactus. Very fluff, is a good boy.

Red (King): Still grey from the death games and curse, but has a bit of colour unlike the demised. His hair is much messier and a bit longer than Ren's. Ears are more pointed like a wolf. When Ren was King, Red made his crown and cape for him. Red still thinks he's better though. Slacks are tighter fit around his knees for movement. ROYAL BLUE BABY- Not a chestplate, but has gold plating around his neck and shoulder that holds his cape. Gold cuffs on his feet because he hated the lack of movement with full leg coverings. Gotta protec those toe beans. Cape is pinned to his sleeve so it moves with him. Very elegant. Prot band on his left hand is a gift from Martyn. Has his symbol so he may always protect his king in some form. Martyn also learned the hard way that Red's cape is basically a giant weighted blanket. How the hell does he carry that?!

(Ren) Bob: Sometimes the hermits call him Rob. Basically a Timmy/Jimmy situation. Again, just basic RenBob. Very flowy clothing. His necklace is a crystal gifted from Impulse back in season 6. He also has earrings made from Grian's feathers he'll wear. They tickle sometimes though, so it's not often. No leg protection. Wants to "Be connected to the world" or whatever he said. Most of his jewlry is wooden. The wooden earrings pull his ears down a bit, but he likes the floppy ears anyway. Prot band is wooden braclet on his right arm. He has a wide variety of goofy cardigans. The egg one is one of his favourites.

(Link to the actual cardigan if you want it)

Grim (Dog): Demised Ren. Kinda like the life games, he has a thirst for death. Maybe not as intense, but he'll sometimes be in a hunting mood. There are tallymarks on his arm are a count of how many he's killed. He's very grateful for the respawn system, he can play these games forever now! Loves very outgoing deaths. Explosions and fireworks are his favourite. NEVER TRUST HIM WITH A CROSSBOW. Prot band is a choker hidden by his hood. Died from fall damage. In death, he invent footwear better than featherfalling to keep him from perishing like that again. (Think long fall boots from Portal. They're shock absorbers.) Has a fear of heights, but he'll never admit that to you. Eyes may look like pure white, but you'll see his iris in a dark room. The iris and pupil glow white, the sclera don't. And yes, his glasses are the shape of coffins.

Grimm (Bob): Demised RenBob! (Rob???) Also gets the urge to kill but prefers not to. When he does, it is much quieter deaths like drowning or suffocation. Grimm prefers to follow around Grim and tend to the dead. Arranging graves, leave flowers, tag you with how you died, that's all him! Died by suffocation. Nobody knows how but Grim. Doesn't talk very much. The most you'll hear is him muttering prayers to the dead. Sometimes he'll also just say a single word and scare the daylights out of somebody. Prot band is a choker beneath his hood aswell. Eyes are just like Grim's; You won't see his iris, but it's there. May not have the weird cardigans like his counterpart, but a few hermits are a fan of his glasses. Tango loves the X glasses. Reminds him of cartoons!

That's all I can think of right now. Any questions? Feel free to ask!

(Suggest more silly cardigans for renbob and I might draw them)

#renthedog #the red king #renbob #Rob???#grimdog #grimmdog #THE BROTHERS GRIMM???#The dogs grimm #rentheking #still can't tag well #we'll get there #maybe...#hermitcraft #trafficblr #inthelittlewood #uhhhh #eggs?#kings art

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itsallyscorner · 2 years

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࿔*:･ﾟTwo in One | H.S

↝ pairing: Harry Styles x actress!reader

↝ summary: Harry finds Marvel interviews hard to do, luckily for him, you’re there to help.

↝ warnings: some cussing obvi. This was longer than expected whoops

↝ a/n: still struggling with trying to write so I decided to clash two of my favorite things in the world to help my creativity flow :) anyway I’m a whore for co-star fics oop🤪

“Right, so you’re paired up with Harry the entire tour. You okay with that?” Tasha, your publicist, informed you. You and the rest of your team had just arrived at the hotel where all the interviews for today’s press junket would be held.

At the moment you were in LA promoting the latest installment of the Eternals series. The last couple of months have been surprisingly enjoyable for you and your career. While you were a talented and well known actress around the world, you were famously known for the character you play in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. You’ve been part of the MCU family for a couple of years now;your first appearance being Captain America: Civil War and your latest one being in the Eternals sequel.

You were excited to be part of the Eternals crew, however, you still missed your Avengers family. Despite your character being around the longest in the cast, you were still the newbie amongst the actors. Everyone knew each other from the previous film so it was like a reunion for the lot of them. You were nervous to meet everyone, but the first table read you all had proved you had nothing to be anxious about. Immediately they made you feel welcome and it honestly felt like you knew them for ages. Though out of everyone, the one person who made you the most comfortable would have to be Harry.

He might’ve been shy at first but that didn’t hide the fact that he was an absolute sweetheart who was genuinely interested in getting to know you. He was intrigued by you—your personality, your journey as an actress—everything about you was just so interesting to him. While there was a hint of flirting and typical banter between you both, you guys were friends;close friends to be specific. Did you find him attractive? Yes, of course you did who wouldn’t? And yeah, there is definitely chemistry between the two of you, though you chose to not act on your feelings.

1. Harry was dating Olivia Wilde and you really didn’t need to be in the center of a cheating rumor

2. You weren’t too comfortable with the whole “dating co-stars while working on set” kind of thing.

Besides having a crush on him, you were okay admiring him from afar and supporting him as a friend. Even when filming wrapped up, you both remained in contact with each other, no matter what time zone or country you were both in.

Adjusting the black sunglasses that rested on the bridge of your nose you turn to Tasha, “Course I’m okay with that! More than happy actually, I’m more comfortable with him than everyone else here.” You admit to her as security guards guide you towards the elevators of the hotel.

Tasha peers at you from behind her coffee cup, “You two get along well.” She comments, though there was a hint of something behind her tone. Your brows slightly crease, turning to look at her, you find a cheeky smirk on her face.

You and your team, along with the security guards enter the elevator. One of the guards pressed a button and the elevators slide shut. You noticed your heart skipping a beat as the floors of the elevator increased. The higher you went the faster your heart seemed to beat out your chest. At first you thought it was nerves, but it wasn’t, it was the brunette haired boy waiting for you in a hotel room a few floors above you. However, you pushed down the feeling, not wanting to get caught up in your little crush for him throughout the entire press tour.

“Stop it.” You mumble towards Tasha, the smirk still evident on her features. While she was your publicist, the two of you managed to form a beautiful friendship over the past 6 to 8 years you’ve known each other. She was one of you best friends at this point.

The tall blonde shrugged, “I’m just saying, he’s newly single and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you making a few moves here and there.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her engagement ring flashing against the harsh elevator lights. The elevator dings and everyone slowly files out.

“That’s exactly why I shouldn’t say anything about my feelings. He’s freshly single, might I emphasize, I’m sure he’d want to explore the freedom of being single again.” You explain, linking your arms with Tasha’s. “Plus, it’s a crush, it’s not like I’m in love with him or something.”

Tasha rolled her eyes at your stubbornness.

“I understand Y/n. But there’s literally no denying that there’s something between you two. Whether you’d like to explore that or not is totally up to you, though as someone who’s quite familiar with the situation, I’d say you just go for it.” She advised while the two of you walked down the hall looking for the room with your and Harry’s name outside of it. You smile as you pass some interviewers already waiting outside the rooms, offering a little “hi” or “hello”.

When you spot Harry’s name on the door you stop in your tracks and turn to Tasha.

“Thank you Tash for the advice, really. But right now I just need to avoid thinking of that and just focus on the interviews. You know how overwhelmed I can get and the fact that he’s gonna be there the entire time doesn’t really help.” You reason with her. You appreciated her advice, although you seriously couldn’t be hyper focused on your crush on Harry. Maybe it was the fact that you were seeing him again for the first time that made you so giddy and lowkey obsessed with him. Whatever it was, you didn’t want to focus on it.

“Understood.” Tasha nodded. She peaked into the room where Harry and the camera crew was setting up. “Alright, you all good to go in? How’re you feeling?” She checked up on you.

“I’m good.” You confirmed. Tasha walked into the room, you trailing behind her. It was the typical setup: a backdrop with the film’s title plastered on it, a few chairs, and a camera crew. Tasha greeted Jeff, Harry’s manager, the two sharing a friendly hug. You greeted him as well before walking further into the room.

Already sat in the director’s chair with his name behind it was Harry. He was on his phone, mindlessly scrolling with his brows scrunched together, almost slouching in the chair. The increase in volume kn the room caught his attention, causing him to look up from his phone.

You eyes widen when his instantly connect with yours. His face brightens, eyebrows raising and a smile that squeezed into his cheeks.

“Hey you!” He excitedly greets you, hopping out of the chair with his arms wide open for you. Your own lips form into its own sweet smile as you find yourself being engulfed by Harry’s arms.

“Hello to you too!” You laugh into his shoulder, your arms wrapping around his waist. He leans back to look properly at you, though his arms remained around your figure.

“You’re late.” He teased you, a glint of playfulness in his green eyes. Your mouth gaped dramatically, leaning further away from him.

“Am not! I’m actually on time—“ you cut yourself off to look over your shoulder at Tasha. “Tash, we’re on time aren’t we?”

You feel Harry chuckle at your banter, eager to prove him wrong. The blonde smirks at you, “Thirty minutes ahead schedule.”

“Told you.” Harry rolls his eyes at you before bringing you back into his chest. Sure, you were friends, but when it came to showing affection, you and Harry were very touchy and “huggy” people.

“It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other, I’ve missed ya.” He looked down at you, eyeing your outfit for the day. “You look gorgeous by the way, love.”

A light blush forms on your cheeks, “Thank you, H. You don’t look too bad yourself.” You say, patting the lapels of his blazer. His outfit was fashionably casual yet comfy all at the same time. It made him look very soft and cuddly. Plus that stand of hair that curled against his forehead was very attractive—simple yet very effective.

He thanks you, leading you towards your chairs with his arm around you. He gives you a hand to hop onto the director’s chair before sitting in his own.

You lean you elbow on the arm rest and place your chin in your palm, “So, first interview for the movie, you nervous?”

He copies your stance, shifting closer to you, so the conversation was only between you both.

“Y’know what? Yes, actually I am.” He admits with a breath.

“Really?”

“Yeh, I mean it’s a bit different from other movies I’ve promoted. I’ve never been so self conscious about accidentally spoiling something.” He spoke, using his hands to emphasize his point. “Marvel’s bloody secretive, I feel like m’head’s bout to be chopped off or something if I let something slip.”

You let out the laugh at his comment, “I mean you’re not Tom Holland or Mark Ruffalo, so you’ll be fine.” You said, nudging his shoulder with yours.

Shaking his head he stares at you, “I don’t know how y’do it, I’m shitting m’pants right now.” The corner of his lip raises to cover up his nerves. He was joking for the most part, although Harry was genuinely worried about sharing too much about the movie or his character. The movie was a big deal to him since it was a different experience to the previous movies he’s been in. Marvel movies had more action to them and it was an honor to be part of the wide-ranging world of the MCU.

Harry was more than happy to be coupled up with you for the entire press tour. Besides the fact that’s he’s been having a budding crush on you, the two of you got along great and we’re very comfortable with each other’s presence. You bounced off each other effortlessly and there was a natural connection between you both—at least that’s what Harry believes.

“Oh, please! You’re going to be fine, Harry. I’m sure these interviews will feel like a breeze once you get through the first one.” You assure him, placing a hand on his arm. “Plus, I’m gonna be right next to you if you need help. You’ve got nothing to worry about.” You grin, the dimples in your cheeks going unnoticed by Harry. He had an urge to poke them, not in a menacing or teasing kind of way, but in a “oh you’re so cute, I adore you” type of way.

Harry hums into his palm gazing staring at you, “Guess you’ll be my good luck charm then, huh?”

“Sure, though I can’t guarantee how much luck I’ll be for you.” You snort, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I mean you’ve already got the charm, think we’re already halfway there, darling.” He shamelessly flirted. A boost of confidence shot through him when he saw you attempt to hide the smile behind your hand.

“Shut it.” You muttered, feeling a bit flustered at his comment. You’re so pathetically down bad for this man that a simple bloody pickup line was enough to have you blushing like a teenager, you thought to yourself. Gosh, you wanted to ram yourself into a wall headfirst.

Harry huffed, gently pulling your hand from your face, “Oi, don’t get all shy on me. I don’t need ya ignoring me the entire day.”

You placed your hand down to glare at him, “That was one time.”

“Y’still didn’t talk to me the entire day.” Harry rebutted, tilting his head at you. Happy that he could finally see your face again, he rested his head on your shoulder. The room was full of murmurs from different people. The film crew was double checking all the equipment and lighting before interviews began, while Tasha and Jeff were having a run down on today’s schedule.

Everything around you and Harry was loud and borderline chaotic. Yet the two of you sat in comfortable silence. Since you’ve arrived Harry’s nerves had calmed down. His palms weren’t moist and his heart wasn’t pounding as hard against his chest anymore.

“Y’know I actually did miss you.” Harry spoke, shifting to look up at you.

“I missed you too. I always see videos and pictures of you on tour, looks like so much fun.” You hum. Harry lifts his head off you, “Oh, y’keeping tabs on me now?” He smirked, earning him a swat on the chest to which he feigned hurt at.

“You wish.” You scoffed jokingly.

“You should come to one of the shows one day. I know a guy who can get me tickets.” He offered, the corners of his eyes crinkling at his own joke.

“Oh really?” You play along. Harry nodded seriously, “Yeh, he works for the guy who sings and all that. I heard he’s a right dick though.”

“Your friend’s not wrong.” You claim causing Harry to gasp at you in offense. The banter was cut short when Tasha and Jeff approached you two, signing that it was time for the interviews to start.

*clip 1 🎬*

“So Harry, how was it like to work with someone who’s been in the Marvel business for a while now?” Claire, an interviewer asked. “Did you ask her for any advice? Have you learned anything from her—what was that like?” Harry took a sip from his Starbucks cup and hummed.

Harry turned his head to look at Y/n with the corner of his mouth quirked up.

“She was horrible.” The camera panned to Y/n who’s mouth was in an “o” shape. Before she can speak, Harry placed a hand on her knee and began sputtering apologies through his laughter.

“He’s quite the comedian.” Y/n sarcastically remarks while Harry is pulling her into his side. Claire giggles at the two’s antics.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Harry started. His arm remained around Y/n’s shoulders. “Y/n’s the opposite of horrible. She’s been such a help since day one and she’s been helping me today during these interviews. Uhm, I’m very appreciative of her actually—because she’s been patient with me and the ridiculous amount of questions I have. She’s been a kind of guide for me while we were filming this movie and I couldn’t have gotten through it without her.” He finished with a shy shrug.

“That was sweet.” Y/n cooed at Harry, who only blushed in response.

“Was it?”

“Yeah.” She nodded.

“Well I meant it.”

*clip 2 🎬*

“I know you guys can’t say much about the movie, but can one of you try to give the audience an idea of what goes down in this film?” Josh another interviewer asked.

Y/n hummed to herself in thought.

“Y’know I’ve been dreading that question.” Harry mentioned wiggling his pointer finger at the interviewer. Y/n snorted to herself and jokingly pushed Harry to lean back into his seat.

“I’ll take it.”

Harry looks up at the ceiling and said, “Oh, thank God.”

Josh laughed at Harry, “You’re not willing to risk spoiling it, huh?”

Harry shook his head, “Are y’kidding me? I’ve been on the edge of m’seat the entire time.”

“Have the people at Marvel given you the talk about spoiling the movies?” Josh asked.

“Yeh, they’re very strict about what we’re allowed to say and not say about the film.” Harry pointed behind him, “Actually a few minutes before we started, they had to pull me aside and remind me that I can’t say this or that about the film.”

An amused expression was on Y/n’s features, “Did they actually?”

Harry looked at her seriously, “Yeah! Wait—you didn’t get one?”

“Nope.” Y/n answered causing Harry to slump into his seat with his arms crossed. Josh and Y/n laughed at the man.

“Hey man, Y/n doesn’t need it, she’s a trained professional.” Josh said in the actress’s defense.

“Y/n, how has Harry been in the spoiling department? Has he let anything slip or almost slip?”

“He’s been doing well. Thankfully, he hasn’t let anything slip out yet, but that’s only cause he makes me answer all the hard questions.” Y/n replied, making quotation marks with her hands when she said the word hard.

Harry raised his hand like a child in primary school.

“I’d like to point out that I just helped us avoid answering the question about the movie by changing the subject.” He stated proudly earning himself a high five from his lovely co-star.

*clip 3 🎬*

“So Harry, we got to meet Eros towards the end of the first Eternals movie. What can the audience expect from him in this sequel?” Silence filled the room as Harry stared at the interviewer with a blank expression.

“Uh—hmm—what can we expect from Eros?” Harry mumbled to himself, looking everywhere but the interviewer.

“Mmm, uh, I-I don’t know.” He tried to answer with a sheepish grin on his lips. Harry fully turned his body to look at Y/n and leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“I need help.” He whispered, though the mic picked it up. Y/n began to whisper in his ear with her hands covering her mouth. Harry’s mouth gaped as if he were going to speak.

“Uh, we get to learn more about him as a character and what he means to the story of the film.” He recited almost childlike.

“What are some things will we learn about Eros in this film—that you can tell us, of course?” The interviewer continued to question, enjoying the interaction between Harry and Y/n.

Harry’s eyes widened as he sheepishly leaned back down to Y/n. She giggled to herself and began whispering in his ear again. Harry’s eyes furrowed before looking at Y/n in confusion.

“Am I allowed to say that?” He asked her.

“Yeah, they mentioned it at the end of the movie.” She explained.

“When?” His tone growing more confused and concerned that he wasn’t aware of the information about his character. Harry scratched his temple with the hand that rested behind Y/n’s chair and placed his hand back where it was.

“When Eros literally entered the scene.” Y/n clarified. Harry awkwardly smiled at the interviewer and sat back into his seat.

“If I get in trouble I’m blaming you.” Harry warned her.

Y/n rolled her eyes at him, “They all know Thanos and Eros are brothers, Harold.” She looks at the interviewer, “Right?”

The interview nodded in confirmation, “Yes ma’am.”

“Well alright then, anyway—.” Harry continued

*clip 4🎬*

“I think I’m not the only one who notices the lovely friendship between you two, you guys are adorable.” The next interviewer, Ana, pointed out.

Harry nudged Y/n cheekily, “Oh, stop it.”

“But you guys really are!” Ana exclaimed at the the two. Harry threw his arm around Y/n and pressed their cheeks together.

“We’re cute aren’t we?”

“We just can’t resist each other, we must be together all the time.” Y/n said, going along with Harry. She grasped his arms around her and squeezed it.

“At all costs. We’re practically attached at the hip.”

Ana laughed at the two actors, “I don’t doubt that.”

*clip 5🎬*

“How was it like working with each other? You guys seem like very great friends so I’m assuming all was well?” Another interviewer, Ben questioned the two.

Harry was seen stretching down in his seat to grab Y/n’s coffee, who was seconds earlier, struggling to pick up her coffee from the floor. He hands her the cup while she thanks him quietly.

“I guess I’ll start, Y/n’s been helping me answer questions all day.” Harry began. Y/n chuckled at him and continued to sip on her straw.

“We really do get on well, Y/n and I. I enjoyed working with everyone in the cast, but I honestly had the best time with her. Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever admitted this, but I’m a huge fan of her and her work. It was a huge honor to work with someone who’s insanely talented. She puts so much passion in her work and working alongside her is something I’d like to do again. She’s the sweetest and most caring person I’ve ever met and she never fails to make me laugh, I truly adore her.” Harry admiringly answered, fiddling with the rings that wrapped around his long fingers.

“Harry.” Y/n cooed at him, her heart warming at his little speech. Her hand smoothed his back, lightly brushing past his brunette hair.

Harry sniffed and jokingly wiped an invisible tear from his eye, “Gosh, I’m sorry.” Causing Y/n and Ben to laugh.

“Y/n? How about you?”

Y/n smiled to herself, “I mean he’s amazing. Like he said, we got really close to each other on set and we’ve became the best of friends. It was a joy to work beside him, he brought so much energy to set and was an all around sweetheart. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love him, he’s someone you want to always be around and have in your life. It made me really happy and proud to see him on the big screen because he’s so talented and I wish to see him in more films in the future.” She answered beaming at Harry with a glint in her eyes.

Harry rested his chin in his palm and stared at Y/n with the same look in his eyes, “We should just become a two in one deal and film all our movies with each other.”

“That’s not a bad idea, Styles.” Y/n acknowledged.

“It’s a good idea innit?” Harry looks behind the camera and waves his hand, “Get on that, Jeffery!”

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