🚨🚨 Hello Dear Friends 🚨🚨

Hello this is me Aya.. ‏🇵🇸

everything and suddenly you wake up with nothing left.That's exactly what happened with us .we moved from having everything to having nothing.In a blink of an eye ,we lost everything, our house ,dreams,

memories belongings and our works. We are starting from zero and need your help to climb the leader step by step from scratch.

All the positive words cannot express how generous you are, especially in sharing my posts to inform other donors about the people of Gaza who are still suffering from the terrible conditions caused by the unjust war on Gaza!

Please continue to support us by donating directly or by sharing the link to let others know. Don't hesitate to help people in difficult and miserable times until the dark days are over. 🙏🏻🍉

https://gofund.me/c4c2cf82

Unfortunately I can’t share due to my financial situation, but I can share

Free Palestine

We were safe and had a life 🤎🐾

To whom it may concern,

I am Shahad Dahlan, and my husband is Hassan Al-Badrsawi. We are going through a very difficult time after the war destroyed everything in our lives. We lost our home, which we built with our own hands, and lived in tents for long periods. We have been bombed, and now we are left with nothing but painful memories. Our dream now is survival and finding a new hope in Egypt, where we hope to find a safe place to start over.

We are in urgent need of your support. Any donation, no matter how small, will mean a lot to us and will help us rebuild our lives away from the pain. You are our hope after God, and with your support, we can rebuild our future. 🙏🏻🫂💙

We thank God, and then we thank you for your help and support during this difficult journey.

Best regards,

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #502 )✅️

Link 🌹❤️‍🩹📌

Shahad Dahlan & Hassan Al-Badrsawi🫶🏻

gofundme.com

Donate to My friend Shahad Dahlan in Gaza., organized by Manar Ahmed

I am raising funds for my friend in Gaza. This fund is to help her leave Gaza and move to… Manar Ahmed needs your support for My friend Shah

‘ppreciate you pookie 😩

@m30wk1ttycat my favourite (and only) moot 👈😎👈

positivity train!

Tag as much as your favorite mutuals

thankyouu for tagging me @rudelittlemedusa @intellectual6666

To all of u guys

@siya-sayani @aahanna @hi-avathisside @pyaari-naari @shadowseductress @talesinmyhead040122 @ji-jii-visha @ughsahira @urdesigirl @dontwakeup-ishu @kanha-sakhi @happyliving-blog @mi-a-mor @sitaaraki-mehfil @losergfdotcom @happilynervouswerewolfsworld @thatstolenpayal @cruel-kaya @misti-mithai @duh-nik @nabxtangled @priimadonnna @vibewithhana @zanan-wanan @bandi-siddhi-sadi-si @celesteablack @hireathlove @oldersiblingcurse @wtfpremika @tamanna-and-her-struggles @aaashleyyyy @sweaters-n-socks @nainasfuneral @tothemoonandbacklove @nipsyyy @sassy-harry @adrakwaalichai and many more in desiblr family.

Jefferson’s Sugar Cube AU Masterlist

Jefferson might have kidnapped you.  He might have kept you against your will, but somewhere along the lines, you fell for this mad and handsome husband of yours.  He’s a bit unhinged, but he makes sure his Sugar Cube is doted upon and well taken care of.

Adventures in Underland

Welcome to the Tea Party

Maze Chase

Golden Afternoon

Painting the Roses Red

We’re All Mad Here

I’m Late, I’m Late

Through The Looking Glass

A/N:  these have dark themes.  Jefferson did take reader against her will.  There will be themes of basement wife, chase kink, breeding kink, knife kinks, and many more.  Also there’s tons of nods to the Alice and Wonderland story/movies.  YOU are the one responsible for the content in which you consume.

*divider created by @firefly-graphics

I miss them

Just a little experiment, but reblog if you love the League of Villains and dislike the bnha ending.

Not me and my inability to stop smiling while reading this 🧍‍♂️

metal arm brrr

Summary: Every problem needs a solution. Bucky just isn't the biggest fan of yours.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Tags: Fluff in the highest degree, old married couple, Swearing (It's Bucky, duh)

A/N: I just needed to give you guys something, it's been too long since i've written on here and you guys are the best :) I've barely checked this over so I apologize for any typos.

*****

“Can you stop moving, please?” 

Bucky Barnes half asleep is not someone you want to mess with. The first time you shuffled he had hardly made a sound, the second you were met with a low grumble (a warning you knew well) and the third strike, he was thirty seconds from kicking you out of the bed. 

When Bucky had finally learnt to sleep in a bed again, mostly thanks to you, he steadily became a big fan of his beauty sleep and god help anyone who ended up disturbing him. He had a lot to catch up on. Once, you had violently shaken him awake because his phone was ringing and when he heard Sam on the other line, you were deemed a ‘sleep thief’ for a week and a half after. Bucky Barnes was a bitch when it came to his sleep. 

You usually wouldn't have any complaints about being in his vice grip but it was January and the nights were still cold and having a boyfriend with a metal arm meant that you were held to him with an ice cold grip around your waist. When the Summer came, it was a life saver, your own personal refrigerator but you still had a good few months to go before you were hanging off his arm everyday. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled and tried to convince yourself you were comfortable without another word.

Nope, can’t do it. You shift again. 

“You’re kidding- what is it?” He pulls away from you and sits up on his elbow, glaring, he dares you. “Go on.”

With the most innocent doe eyes you could muster you slip your bottom lip between your teeth and debate the argument you could spark when your gaze slips to his vibranium arm in the semi darkness.

He doesn’t miss a thing, you’ve come to realize.

“I swear if you say-”

“-It’s cold! I’m cold! It’s just too much cold!” You burst, arms flailing in desperation. 

“It’s my arm! You said you wanted to sleep on my left, this is my left arm, nothing I can do. Okay?”

“There has to be something.” You search the room for solutions, briefly lingering on the sock drawer. 

“Oh yeah, sorry, let me just take it off.” Bucky grunts, dripping with sarcasm. 

“...If you could?”

“Seriously, fuck you.” 

Bucky falls back into his beloved pillow, eyes shut and wishing he has chosen a partner that let him sleep peacefully, then again, why would he want that when you exist?

“Look, either come to the other side or deal with it.” 

Silence finally reaches your bedroom and Bucky is deeply in dreamland while you lie awake, scheming away. 

In the early hours, you slip out of bed without a sound and make a beeline for the sock drawer, knowing you had some old pairs of slipper socks stuffed at the back. Scissors in hand, you snipped off the toes and smiled at the D.I.Y leg warmers. Oh, he was gonna be mad. 

With nearly medical precision, you held out the slumbering Bucky’s arm in front of you and one by one, slid the fluffy socks up the freezing metal until it was sufficiently covered. Thanking the universe, he was a pretty heavy sleeper, you shuffled back under the covers and happily wrapped the soft arm back around your waist. 

You slept like a lamb after that.

*****

When the morning came, you woke up before him like usual and briefly left him to his own devices as you made coffee, two mugs sitting on the counter beside each other. 

Through the wall, you faintly hear the rising of the soldier before heavy footsteps quickly storm in your direction.

“The fuck is this?”

You look up to see him in the doorway, and find yourself the subject of a stare that would send millions running. Not you. The multicolored socks lined up his arm kind of softened his hoped effect and you had to stifle your laughter. 

“A solution?” You shrug.

“No.” He points at you with his flesh arm accusingly “Nu-uh. This? This is not how we solve things.”

“Is it not? I’m really digging the rainbow on you.” The giggle you had tried to push down had spilled over.

“You’re a fucking menace.” 

The giggle now a full bodied laugh that had you clutching at your chest as you were overcome with the image of your big, scary, ‘world’s most deadly assassin’ boyfriend glaring daggers at you while donning the most fluffy and most colorful socks up his arm.

Bucky was fighting a grin with all his might, your laughter was like an ugly disease, incredibly contagious, hard to avoid, and annoying.

Something soft hits you in the face and you halt your hysterics as you peer at the slipper sock now at your feet. Lifting your gaze, Bucky is smiling smugly, and working a second sock off his arm. 

“Bucky!” You yelp and duck under the counter as the rainbow sock flies in slow motion over your head. 

You probably shouldn’t poke the bear but-

“Y’know, for the best shot the United States army had ever seen you sure do miss a lot.” You taunt from your hiding spot.

When there's no response, you make a break for the couch and get shot squarely in the forehead.

“Say that again.” He dares with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, truce. Truce!” You raise your hands in surrender. 

“Say sorry for last night.” The pink ball of fluff in his hands, a deadly fate, and you’re consigned to concede

“I apologize for last night.” You sigh, approaching him with caution “Now, it’s been ten whole minutes and you still haven’t subjected me to your obscene morning breath.”

He beckons you with his head and you happily plod over, throwing your arms around his neck. The kiss is sweet, and full of promised mornings to come.

It’s welcomed by you. Until you feel the coldest thing known to man, his left arm, writhing under your shirt and sending immediate shivers down your back. 

“Bucky!” You screech and his strong laughter descends on your morning with malice.

Desperately wiggling out of his hold, you escape to the bedroom and yell from your stronghold:

“That was an act of war James Buchanan Barnes!”

The sooner you reblog this, the funnier it is

Masterlist

Teen Wolf

Stiles Stilinski x Winchester!reader

Series rewrite

season 1

- Wolf Moon Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 - Second Chance at First Line Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 - Pack Mentality Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 - Magic Bullet Pt.1 - The Tell Pt.1  - Code Breaker Pt.1 Pt.2

Thomas x reader

coming soon

Joel Dawson x reader

coming soon

Mitch Rapp x reader

coming soon

Dave Hodgman x reader

coming soon

Stuart Twombly x reader

coming soon

Richie Boyle x reader

coming soon

Colin x reader

 - The Food Blogger

Supernatural

(currently just Teen Wolf and Criminal Minds crossovers)

You can find some of my spn fics on my other acc, HERE

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid x Winchester!reader

Familiar Faces

Everyone read this right the fuck now

Why are you making me do this?

Shigaraki x Reader

Context: You give him a spa day to help him feel better :)

Comments and feedback are appreciated 🥹🫶🏻

The bathroom was warm and filled with steam, the scent of lavender bath salts wafting through the air. You stood by the tub, waiting as Shigaraki leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, looking like he wanted to disappear into the wall. His crimson eyes darted away from yours, his shoulders stiff and defensive.

“Why are you making me do this?” he muttered, his voice a mix of frustration and embarrassment. “I don’t need you to babysit me.”

“You’re not a baby,” you shot back, keeping your tone soft but firm. “But you’re clearly in pain. I can see it every time you scratch yourself raw or flinch when you move. Just… let me help you for once, okay?”

He huffed, dragging a hand through his hair—a dangerous gesture considering his quirk. “It’s not gonna fix anything.”

“No, but it might help you feel a little better,” you said, stepping closer. “You deserve that.”

His lips pressed into a thin line, but after a long moment, he sighed heavily and tugged his shirt over his head. The fabric caught on his elbows, and you stepped in instinctively to help. He froze, the proximity clearly making him uncomfortable, but you ignored it and gently peeled the shirt away, careful not to graze his fingers.

When his torso was finally exposed, you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger for a moment. His chest was littered with old scars and faint scratches, his skin pale but visibly irritated in places. He shifted uncomfortably under your stare.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered, his voice low. “I know it’s disgusting.”

You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts. “It’s not disgusting,” you said softly, shaking your head. “I just… I hate seeing you like this.”

His expression hardened, but you caught the faint flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. He didn’t say anything as he moved to unbuckle his belt, and you turned away out of respect, your cheeks warming slightly.

“Get in the bath,” you said once you heard the faint rustle of fabric hitting the floor. “The water’s ready.”

He stepped into the tub, lowering himself slowly into the warm water with a quiet groan. The tension in his shoulders eased almost instantly, and you could see the faintest hint of relief on his face as he leaned back against the edge.

You knelt beside the tub, rolling up your sleeves. “This might sting a little, but it’ll help,” you said, reaching for the washcloth.

His eyes flicked to yours, wary but trusting. “Do whatever you want,” he said softly, resting his arms on the sides of the tub.

You dipped the cloth into the water, lathering it with a gentle soap before carefully running it over his arm. He tensed at first, but as you worked, his muscles relaxed under your touch.

“Y’know,” you murmured, your voice light but tinged with concern, “I really wish you’d take better care of yourself.”

He scoffed, his lips twitching into a faint, self-deprecating smile. “Yeah? Sorry you have to look at me like this.”

You paused, your hand stilling on his shoulder. “Shut the fuck up,” you said bluntly, your voice firm but not unkind.

His eyes widened slightly, and you could see the faintest hint of surprise in his expression.

“I don’t care about how you look,” you continued, your tone softening. “I want you to take care of yourself because I can see how much pain you’re in all the time. I just… I want you to feel better. Even if it’s just a little. And if that means I have to rub lotion on every inch of your body to make it happen, then I will. I don’t mind.”

You hesitated, your cheeks warming as you realized how forward that sounded. “I just, uh… you know what I mean.”

A faint flush crept up his neck, and he turned his head away, his voice unusually soft. “You’re too good to me.”

The washcloth glided over his arm, the soft pressure coaxing a sigh from his lips as he sank deeper into the bathwater. You worked in silence, focused on cleaning the irritated areas of his pale, scarred skin. His muscles, usually tense and on edge, seemed to relax under your care. But after a while, he shifted slightly, his crimson eyes flicking to yours.

“The towel’s… too rough,” he murmured, his voice quieter than usual. “Can you just… use your hands?”

Your hands froze mid-motion, your breath catching slightly. “Y-You mean…?”

He frowned, clearly irritated with himself for asking, but he didn’t take it back. “Yeah. Just your hands. It… feels better that way.” His gaze shifted away, as if he couldn’t bear to watch your reaction. “Forget it if you don’t want to.”

You shook your head quickly, biting back the flush creeping into your cheeks. “No, it’s fine. I’ll—yeah. If it makes you feel better.”

Setting the washcloth aside, you dipped your hands into the warm, soapy water, rubbing them together to lather the soap before placing them gently on his shoulder. His skin was warm beneath your palms, and you could feel the subtle tension still lingering there as you began to move.

Your fingers worked in slow, careful circles over his shoulders, kneading the stiff muscles there before trailing down his arms. His biceps twitched slightly under your touch, and you couldn’t help but notice how lean and defined his muscles were, despite his wiry frame.

“This okay?” you asked softly, glancing up at him.

He nodded, his crimson eyes half-lidded as he leaned back a little more. “Yeah. Keep going.”

You let your hands slide down his arms, taking your time to wash each one thoroughly. Your thumbs grazed over the sharp ridges of his elbows and the softer curves of his forearms, your touch light but deliberate. When you reached his hands, you hesitated, carefully avoiding his fingertips.

“Careful with my hands,” he murmured, his voice low but not harsh. “Just… don’t touch the tips.”

“I know,” you said softly, guiding the soapy water over his knuckles and palms with the utmost care. “I won’t.”

Once his arms were done, you moved to his chest, your hands trembling slightly as they brushed against the firm planes of his torso. His chest rose and fell steadily under your touch, and you tried not to focus too much on the scars that littered his skin, or the way his muscles shifted beneath your palms.

“You’re blushing,” he muttered, his lips quirking into a faint smirk despite himself.

“Shut up,” you shot back, your voice flustered but not unkind. “I’m trying to help you, remember?”

His smirk softened into something gentler, and he let out a quiet hum as you continued. Your hands moved down to his stomach, the soft skin there slightly more sensitive under your touch. He twitched faintly when your fingertips grazed a particularly ticklish spot, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Didn’t take you for the ticklish type,” you teased lightly, your voice warm.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, but there was no bite in his tone.

After finishing his front, you leaned back slightly, motioning for him to sit forward. “Turn around so I can get your back.”

He obeyed, shifting in the tub until his back was to you. His shoulders were lean and angular, his back a canvas of old wounds and scratches that made your chest ache. You let your hands glide over his skin, your fingers careful but firm as you washed away the grime and tension that clung to him.

When you finished his back, you sat back on your heels, taking a moment to let your hands rest. “Alright,” you said, your voice soft. “Now, lean back again so I can wash your hair.”

He gave a faint nod, shifting until he was reclining against the edge of the tub. His crimson eyes met yours briefly before sliding shut, his expression almost peaceful.

“Don’t get soap in my eyes,” he murmured, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smirk.

“I’ll do my best,” you said with a small laugh, reaching for the shampoo.

The warm water cascaded over both of you as you prepared to move on to his hair. You grabbed the cherry-scented shampoo, a slight smile tugging at your lips as you squeezed some into your palm. “I hope you're okay with smelling like cherries,” you teased gently, your fingers already moving toward his hair.

Shigaraki blinked lazily up at you, his eyes half-lidded, clearly trying to relax. “I don’t care,” he muttered, but you could see the faintest flicker of amusement in his gaze.

You gently ran your fingers through his unruly, spiky hair, the soft pressure soothing him as the cherry-scented lather spread through the strands. The smell of sweet cherries mixed with the warm steam of the bath, and you focused on massaging his scalp, carefully working the shampoo through the tangled locks. You paid close attention to his scalp, where the skin was tender from his quirk, and you worked in slow, deliberate circles, the tips of your fingers pressing down just right to relieve some of the stress.

As you did, Shigaraki's breath hitched unexpectedly, and he let out a low, almost involuntary moan that echoed around the bathroom. Your fingers stilled for a brief moment, but you didn't say anything, instead continuing to massage his scalp with extra care. You didn’t tease him; you could feel the way his shoulders relaxed under your touch, and you didn’t want to ruin that moment.

“You okay?” you asked softly, not wanting to break the moment but also needing to check.

He blinked, eyes still closed, clearly a little flustered now. “Yeah,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Just… don’t get used to it.”

You didn’t press the issue. Instead, you gently rinsed the shampoo out of his hair, the water swirling around you both as it carried away the soap. You reached for the conditioner next, squirting a generous amount into your palm.

“I don’t need any of that girl shit,” he grumbled, not even bothering to open his eyes.

You laughed, the sound soft and warm, almost comforting. “I just washed your hair with cherry-scented shampoo. Conditioning your hair isn’t going to hurt your masculinity, I promise.”

He scoffed, but it didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Fine. But you’re doing it, not me.”

You smirked, shaking your head, and worked the conditioner into his hair with care. You took your time, making sure it coated each strand as you massaged it into his scalp before working it down to the ends of his hair. His hair was soft under your touch, but you could still feel the dryness at the ends, the way it needed more nourishment.

“You’ve got some dry spots in your hair,” you muttered as you worked, and he grumbled in response, clearly uninterested in the details.

“I know, just—hurry it up,” he muttered, but there was a note of something almost like relief in his tone.

You didn’t rush. Instead, you carefully left the conditioner in his hair for a few minutes, paying attention to the ends, letting the treatment sink in. He leaned back into the tub, his eyes closed, breathing slow and steady, almost at peace.

“Alright,” you said after the five minutes passed, your fingers gently working through his hair one last time. “Time to rinse.”

As the water poured over him again, you rinsed the conditioner from his hair, making sure not to get it in his eyes. His hair felt softer now, a bit smoother, and it had a faint, lingering scent of cherries that made you smile.

“Good?” you asked quietly.

He opened his eyes, meeting yours with a mix of exhaustion and something like appreciation. “Fine,” he said, but you could hear the soft note of gratitude in his voice. "It’s better. Thanks."

You smiled, brushing his hair back away from his face gently. “You’re welcome.”

You stood by as Shigaraki carefully climbed out of the bath, his movements deliberate and a little slow, but you didn’t rush to help him. After all, he wasn’t a baby. He was still more than capable of managing on his own, and you had a feeling he wouldn’t appreciate the extra attention. Instead, you handed him a towel, letting him dry himself off as he seemed to enjoy the rare moment of being left to his own devices.

You couldn’t help but smile softly as he wiped himself down, his hands still tender but determined to handle it on his own. It was a quiet reminder that even though he was tough in a lot of ways, he still needed care, even if he didn’t always show it.

Once he’d taken care of the rest of his body, you stepped forward, the towel in your hands ready to help him with his hair. “Let me help with your hair,” you said softly, your voice gentle, knowing he’d probably let you now.

He glanced at you for a moment, a bit hesitant, but then gave you a short nod. “Fine, whatever. Just don’t make it weird,” he muttered.

You simply nodded, your fingers gently working through his damp hair, twisting the towel in your hands as you began to dry the strands. You used a separate towel for his hair, careful not to tug too hard or pull at any sensitive spots. As you worked, you brushed the towel through the wet strands, your fingers carefully raking through the hair that had been so soft after the conditioner.

“You know,” you said softly as you finished drying him off, “you really should take better care of your hair. It could be a lot softer if you didn’t just let it get all tangled.”

He let out a quiet scoff, but it lacked any real bite. “Don’t care about my hair. It’s fine.”

“Right, just like the rest of you is ‘fine,’” you teased lightly, making him shoot you a side-eye. You could tell he was trying to hide the soft hint of a smile that wanted to creep onto his face, but you could see it in his eyes.

You gently ran your fingers through his damp hair once more before applying some leave-in conditioner. The cool cream smoothed over his hair, helping to keep it soft and manageable. You massaged it in, feeling the strands more gently now that they were drying. After you’d finished, you grabbed the comb you kept nearby and carefully worked through the hair, making sure to detangle it without pulling too harshly.

His hair was in much better shape now, and you could tell he felt the difference as he gave it a few more ruffles, the soft texture running between his fingers. “Better?” you asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, sounding a little gruff, but you could tell he was secretly grateful for the effort.

Next, you made a pointed glance toward the bathroom mirror. “Alright, now brush your teeth,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned against the doorframe.

Shigaraki immediately gave you a look, his eyes narrowing. “Why? I don’t need—”

“Shigaraki,” you interrupted, holding your hand up. “I’m not kissing you if you don’t brush your teeth. I’m not suffering through that.”

He blinked at you in surprise, before the corner of his lips lifted ever so slightly in a rare smirk. “Fine, fine. I get it, princess.”

You watched him move toward the sink, still a little sluggish from the bath but clearly used to the routine. Despite his general lack of self-care, Shigaraki did brush his teeth on occasion, and you knew he didn’t want to push it with you. He didn’t want to make it uncomfortable for you, even though his quirks and habits were, at times, less than ideal.

You waited patiently as he brushed, watching as he rinsed his mouth afterward, his grumbling to himself barely audible as he finished up. When he was done, you couldn’t help but smile. “Better?”

He gave you a small, resigned look, but there was a hint of a smile behind the annoyance. “Yeah. Happy now?”

“Very,” you said, meeting his eyes with a soft smile.

It wasn’t much, but the simple moments of care you were able to offer, even when he tried to resist it, made you feel like you were getting through to him in the most important ways.

As you stood by, watching Shigaraki finish up with his teeth, you couldn’t help but notice how dry his skin looked—especially his lips. It was obvious that he hadn’t been taking care of himself as he should. His skin, usually pale to begin with, appeared irritated in spots, with patches that looked sore from neglect. You knew, in that moment, it was time for some more serious attention.

“Alright, we’re not done yet,” you said, moving over to the small cabinet where you kept your skin care products. He turned his head slightly, eyes narrowing.

“What now? You want to rub some of that girly lotion on my face or something?”

You chuckled softly, pulling out the facial cream and lip balm you kept stocked for days like this. “You need it, Shigaraki. Your lips are dry as hell, and your face looks like it could use some hydration.”

“Not the face, babe,” he muttered, turning away as if the suggestion alone was embarrassing. “I’m not putting any of that shit on.”

You rolled your eyes, walking up to him and gently lifting his chin with your finger, forcing him to look at you. “Don’t be so difficult,” you said, your voice soft but firm. “You need this. It’s not just about looking pretty, it’s about taking care of yourself so you don’t feel like you’re falling apart all the time.”

He huffed in frustration, but you could see the reluctance in his eyes. “I’m fine, I don’t need it. I don’t care about that stuff.” He glanced at the products in your hand with a glare, clearly irritated by the idea of being pampered.

You were having none of it, though. “Stop it. You know I’m not letting you get away with this. You’re not getting out of this one.” You moved forward with determination, taking a small amount of the facial cream and gently applying it to his face, starting at his forehead and working your way down. His skin was rough, but the cream was smooth, and you massaged it in carefully. He grumbled under his breath, but there was no way he was getting out of this.

“You seriously want me to let you do this?” he muttered, voice low, clearly self-conscious. “I’m not some pampered idiot, you know.”

You leaned in closer, your fingers working in slow circles around his face. “You don’t have to be a pampered idiot. You’re my idiot, and I’m taking care of you. You’ve got to let me.”

His shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t pull away, allowing you to finish applying the cream. “If you keep making that sound all sweet and patient, it’s gonna make me feel soft,” he grumbled, clearly trying to maintain some of his edge, but the fact that he was letting you do this without pushing you away said enough.

“Good,” you said with a teasing smile. “You need to feel soft every once in a while.”

You moved to his lips next, pulling the lip balm out and uncapping it with a small click. He groaned in protest, looking away as you gently applied it to his lips, smoothing over the dry, cracked skin. It wasn’t easy—he kept trying to dodge it, his eyes narrowing in embarrassment—but you weren’t having it.

“Stop fussing,” you said softly, your hands gentle as you finished up. “You look way better when you take care of yourself, and you feel better too. Trust me, I wouldn’t make you do this if I didn’t think it would help.”

He sighed in defeat, his gaze softening as he let you finish. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, but you could see the hint of relief in his expression.

“Yeah, but I’m your impossible,” you teased lightly, brushing a stray piece of his hair away from his face. “Now, you’re all moisturized. You can thank me later.”

He didn’t respond immediately, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes—a mix of frustration, reluctant gratitude, and something a little more tender, like he was slowly coming to realize that this weird, loving care was something he didn’t mind after all.

You gave him a firm, yet playful, look. “Alright, go ahead and put on some sweatpants,” you instructed, “but leave the shirt off. You’re not done yet. I’m not finished with you.”

Shigaraki raised an eyebrow, a mix of confusion and mild annoyance crossing his face. “What, are you planning to make me wear a whole outfit or something? I’m not your doll.”

You smiled, the tease in your voice unmistakable. “I don’t need you to wear a shirt right now. Just go and get the sweatpants on and lay down on the bed. I’ll be right there.”

He shot you a look, still reluctant, but you could see the hesitation behind his usual tough exterior. “Fine,” he muttered, standing up slowly, his towel barely staying in place as he shuffled toward the other room.

The soft patter of his bare feet on the floor was the only sound for a moment, and you couldn’t help but watch him go, your heart skipping a beat. Even though he wasn’t showing it, you knew he appreciated the care. It wasn’t something he was used to, but you could feel the walls around him slowly coming down bit by bit.

Once he disappeared into the other room, you took a deep breath and gathered the final things you needed for the next part of his care. This was important for him. More than the skin treatments or moisturizing, this was about making him feel… well, cared for, in ways he might not let himself admit.

You walked into the other room, finding him already laying on the bed, his back propped against the pillows. His towel was tossed aside, his bare chest exposed but free from the weight of his usual responsibilities. There was something so unguarded about him in that moment, and you knew it was the perfect time to keep pushing him to take care of himself.

You walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, placing the lotion you’d brought with you beside you. Shigaraki didn’t meet your eyes, but his posture was slightly more relaxed. That was something. It was just a small step, but it was progress.

“Alright,” you said, meeting his gaze with a soft smile, “let’s get you settled, yeah? I’m not done yet.” You could see a faint glimmer of understanding in his eyes as you spoke—he wasn’t resisting as much, even though he still acted like he was too proud to let himself enjoy it.

You took a steady breath as you stood beside the bed, grabbing the lotion from the side and squishing a generous amount into your palm. The quiet tension in the room hung between you both, a mix of care, nervousness, and unspoken affection.

"Alright, babe," you murmured gently. "Lay on your back for me."

Shigaraki, always so tense and guarded, complied without protest. As he settled back against the pillows, you couldn’t help but notice how his muscles shifted beneath his skin. Despite the roughness, the dry patches of his skin, he was still incredibly lean, defined in a way that caught your attention, even now. You sat on the edge of the bed, ready to begin.

His voice was low and cautious as he muttered, "Be careful with my hands... I don't want to hurt you."

You gave him a reassuring smile, leaning down slightly. "I know, baby. I know. Don’t worry." You let your fingertips trail lightly along his shoulder, just to reassure him before beginning the task you knew would make him feel better.

Squinting slightly, you pressed your palm to his back, starting from the lower part of his spine, the skin rough to the touch from years of neglect. You poured a bit of lotion into your hands, warming it up, then gently massaged it into his back. The moment your hands touched his skin, you noticed the way his muscles seemed to relax slightly, the tension in his body easing under your tender care.

You moved slowly, deliberately, as you worked the lotion into the dry patches, your hands moving up to his shoulder blades. The muscle there was so defined—lean, hard—but you could feel the discomfort beneath it. His body had carried so much, been through so much, that it almost felt like you were massaging away years of pain and stress.

"Does that feel alright?" you asked quietly, your voice almost a whisper.

Shigaraki didn't answer immediately, but you could feel the change in his posture—his body was responding, the tightness in his shoulders loosening as you carefully worked the lotion into his skin. His head turned slightly, and his voice was barely audible as he warned, “Be careful with my hands… I don’t want you to—”

“I know, baby, I know,” you reassured him with a soft laugh. “I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”

Moving down, your hands skimmed over his arms, your fingers caressing the backs of his shoulders and along the back of his arms. The skin there was tough, scarred in places, but the muscles themselves were like stone, defined in a way that only added to his rugged charm. You reached the backs of his hands, where his fingers—so sharp, dangerous, and unpredictable—lay curled against the bed.

He visibly tensed. “I... I don’t know about this,” he said quietly, his voice edged with uncertainty. “Touching my hands, I mean…”

You smiled softly, leaning closer to his ear. “Don’t worry,” you said, your fingers brushing his wrist as you whispered, “I’m fine as long as I don’t touch all five at once. You’re safe. I’m here.”

He seemed to relax, just slightly, though his hand remained a little stiff. You carefully massaged around his hand, making sure to avoid touching more than four of his fingers at once. It felt delicate, almost fragile, but you handled him with care, making sure he felt the reassurance of your touch.

After a moment, you gently moved your hands back up, tracing your fingers along his shoulders one last time before moving to the front of his body.

His breath hitched for just a second, and you couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth creep up your neck. Your heart pounded in your chest as you moved to straddle him, your knees gently pressing into the mattress beside his waist. As you looked down at him, you couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was—his chest, lean and muscular despite the dryness and roughness of his skin, was almost hypnotic.

You swallowed hard, your face flushing under the weight of your thoughts. His eyes met yours, his expression unreadable, though you could feel the faintest tremble in the way he inhaled.

"Okay..." you whispered, your hands shaking just a little. "I need to get your front now." You dipped your hands into the lotion once again, focusing on the warmth of it as you rubbed it into your palms. “I’ll take care of you.”

You started at the top of his shoulders, your fingers gently massaging the area, moving slowly to cover every inch of his skin. He was tense at first, unsure of how to react, but you could see the softening in his features as your hands moved across his chest.

You paid extra attention to his neck, the skin there often neglected, but this time you made sure to ease the rough patches, the discomfort. You took your time as you moved down to his collarbones, feeling their sharpness under your touch, and then along the front of his arms. You could sense the slight tremor in his muscles as your hands traced their way down his body, and you did your best to soothe it, working the lotion into every inch of his skin.

When you reached his chest, you couldn’t help but linger. You ran your hands along the defined muscles of his torso, pausing just to admire how his body shifted under your touch, the care you were giving him making him a little more at ease.

His voice broke through the quiet as he mumbled, “Remember my hands...”

You smiled gently, your fingers lingering on his chest for just a moment longer before you looked up at him. “Shh, I know. I’m not gonna get hurt.”

With a soft, almost relieved exhale, Shigaraki closed his eyes, and you returned your focus to his stomach. The muscles there were just as defined, firm beneath your touch, and you took your time massaging the lotion into the rough patches, letting your hands linger over the hard lines of his abs before smoothing them down his sides.

As you finished rubbing lotion into his stomach, you carefully shifted off of him, no longer straddling his waist. The moment you moved away, Shigaraki’s expression faltered just slightly, his lips curling into a small frown. You couldn’t help but notice how he seemed almost disappointed, and for a brief moment, your chest tightened with guilt.

His voice, quiet and almost unsure, broke the silence. “...It’s over?”

You blinked at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. For a moment, you weren’t sure what to say. You hadn’t expected him to feel that way, but there was something almost comforting in the way he wanted your attention. You gave him a soft smile, feeling a warmth spread through you. You had never seen him like this before—open, asking for care, for reassurance. You found it endearing, and honestly, a little heartbreaking.

“Of course not,” you said quickly, reaching for more lotion. “I didn’t mean to rush you. If there’s anywhere you want me to spend more time on, I’ll do it.”

Shigaraki shifted slightly, his eyes casting downward for a moment as if considering. Then, his voice, quiet yet laced with a hint of uncertainty, spoke up. “Can you... can you go over my neck again? And my shoulders? Maybe my elbows... and my stomach, too?”

You smiled, unable to hide how pleased you were that he was finally opening up to you. You could tell that, despite his usual cold demeanor, he was actually starting to appreciate the care you were giving him. It wasn’t just the physical relief—it was the connection, the intimacy of it all.

“Of course,” you said, moving back into position, and his gaze lingered on you for a moment, something soft in his expression. You grabbed more lotion and began by gently massaging his neck again, feeling the subtle tension in his muscles as your hands worked their way over the rough patches, smoothing them out with the lotion. His neck was always a sensitive spot, but you could tell he was beginning to relax as you worked.

You moved to his shoulders next, your fingers carefully kneading the muscle there, giving extra attention to the spots where you knew he carried the most stress. He let out a quiet sigh, his body sinking into the bed a little more, the weight of the tension easing under your hands.

When you reached his elbows, you noticed the faint scars that lined them, reminders of his past, of the battles he had fought. You took your time, gently massaging the skin there, making sure to be thorough without causing him discomfort. His breath slowed, and for a moment, you both just existed in the stillness, the sound of your hands working his skin and the occasional breath he let out.

You moved back to his stomach, lingering there once more. He had such defined muscles, and despite the dryness and roughness, you could still see the strength he carried within his body. You worked the lotion in slowly, your fingers gliding over the hard lines of his abs. His chest rose and fell with each breath, the tension slowly melting away as you moved your hands gently across his stomach, giving it the care it deserved.

Shigaraki’s eyes closed for a moment, his expression softening, a quiet hum of contentment leaving his lips. His usual coldness had slipped away, replaced by something more raw, more vulnerable. For once, he wasn’t hiding behind his harsh exterior, and you could see it—the subtle way his body language had shifted. He was starting to trust you more, to appreciate your touch, and it was everything you had hoped for.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice softer than you were used to hearing. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

You smiled, leaning in closer to him, your fingers tracing lightly over his shoulder once more. “You don’t have to thank me,” you whispered. “I’m just glad you’re letting me take care of you.”

Shigaraki’s eyes fluttered open, and for the first time in a while, you saw something in them you hadn’t before: warmth, perhaps even a little relief. There was something about this moment that felt different—a shift that, despite everything, made you believe he was finally starting to let go.

"You're welcome," he said again, though this time his voice was a little steadier.

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, letting the silence settle between you both. It wasn’t just about the physical care—it was about the bond you were building, the trust, the understanding. And you both knew it was something that would only grow deeper with time.

Once you finished, you shifted so you were lying beside him, your body settling into the bed next to his. The room felt peaceful, the air thick with a quiet connection neither of you had fully acknowledged before.

For the first time, Shigaraki didn’t pull away from you. His red eyes, usually cold and filled with that ever-present bitterness, softened as they focused on you. There was something in them now—a flicker of tenderness that made your heart flutter.

You lay there for a moment, both of you just looking at each other, neither of you speaking. It was a strange kind of silence, but it felt comfortable, like the calm after a storm. His presence beside you was no longer a thing to fear. Instead, it felt like something safe, something familiar.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said, his voice quiet, but sincere.

The words themselves were unexpected. They caught you off guard. Shigaraki was never one to be openly grateful for anything, especially not for something like this. But there it was—his acknowledgment, his rare moment of appreciation.

Your chest tightened, and before you could stop yourself, your eyes started to well up. It wasn’t out of sadness, but something much more bittersweet—a combination of relief, affection, and the overwhelming feeling that you had finally cracked through the hardened shell he’d so carefully built around himself.

You didn’t know what came over you, but you couldn’t stop yourself from whispering his name. “Tomura,” you said, the sound of his name slipping from your lips, was soft, affectionate. You cupped his cheek gently, your thumb brushing over the scarred skin, feeling the subtle warmth of his skin against your touch.

“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice a little shakier than you intended. “You don’t have to say it back, but... I really love you.”

There was a long pause, a moment of silence where you held your breath, half afraid that you had said too much. That he would pull away, retreat into his usual, cold self. But to your surprise, his gaze never faltered, and for the first time, you saw him as something more than the ruthless leader of the League of Villains.

Tomura’s red eyes softened as he stared at you, and for once, his hands didn’t twitch with the usual restlessness. He leaned in slightly, his face inches away from yours. You could feel his breath, shaky and uneven, as if he too was battling with the emotions he was too used to locking away.

The words were hard for him, and you could see that. But in the end, he spoke them anyway.

“The feeling... is mutual,” he whispered, his voice quieter than before, but still heavy with sincerity. It was almost painful for him to admit, but he said it anyway. He leaned in closer, and without thinking, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

That small gesture—so unlike him—was enough to make your heart race. It was everything you needed to hear, everything you wanted. Even with the difficulty in his voice, it felt like a true confession. The weight of his words settled in your chest, filling you with a warmth that washed away any lingering uncertainty.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. A tear slipped down your cheek, though you quickly wiped it away, not wanting him to see how much his words meant to you. But he saw it anyway, his expression softening even more.

You rested your forehead against his, closing your eyes and savoring the quiet moment between you two. The world outside no longer seemed so daunting, not when you had him by your side—vulnerable, honest, and, for the first time in a long time, fully present.

And for once, you allowed yourself to believe that despite everything—despite his quirk, his past, his brokenness—there was still hope. There was still love.

Authors note: Not my fanart :)

Every one on my JJK taglist (my only taglist) is still on my taglist for jjk content :)

Let me know if you wanna go on my second taglist that involves a lot of different characters :)

@itsafairytalekay @sillysushi

I adore this so much :c

Hey, I hope you’re having a good day! I had an idea, Marvel cast flirting with y/n for x minutes?

. . MARVEL CAST FLIRTING WITH Y/N Y/L/N FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT!

Coming home from an extremely long and stressful day/week was unfortunately something very familiar to you—so familiar that you and your best friend (your not famous best friend who was your pilar through all the chaos fame brought) had created a little routine; she’d send you various videos and links to movies and online books she knew would relax and amuse you.

So, cuddled up in your bed with your pyjamas and your star lights on (a true child at heart, always) you opened up your chats with them and eagerly swiped to see that they’d sent.

‘Marvel Cast Flirting with Y/N Y/L/N For 10 Minutes Straight!’ was the video for tonight.

Immediately you cackled to yourself, hurriedly sending your best friend thanks in the form of ironic emojis and frantic proclamations of undying love, before loading up the (true to prior word) ten minute long video.

Surely this was an exaggeration.

The video began, large letters in a cute font appearing on the dark screen ‘the marvel cast all being in love flirting with y/n for ten minutes’. The quick ‘AS THEY SHOULD’ before the clips started playing made you giggle to yourself.

The first clip was from some years back, you were pretty sure this was a premiere for The Avengers, given how you looked and the quality—you were standing opposite on interview, smile on your face and dressed in a pretty outfit the same colour of your character’s aesthetic.

“How do you feel about your costume?”

Before you could even answer the interviews question, Scarlett intercepted your interview—hair in a short red bob and a smirking grin at her lips as she wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Well I know how we all feel about this ladies costume, it’s a beautiful piece that just makes the women wearing all the more beautiful. If that’s even possible.”

The edit quickly gave Scarlett beating heart eyes for you as she didn’t tear her eyes away from you for a second—making present time you laugh.

With that she kissed your cheek, leaving a red mark of her lipstick and walked away, dramatically winking in your direction.

The second clip was a blooper, from .. Captain America: Civil War, you thought. You were on Sebastian’s shoulders, thighs locked over his head—in character, as your character and his were mid fight.

He stumbled back over a table accidentally and you let out a startled yelp, hands flying to steady yourself in his long hair and one of his landing on your arse cheek to steady you as he steadied himself with the other.

“Is it bad that I’m loving this?”

“SEBA—“

“Cut!”

The third clip was you and Lizzie (Elizabeth Olsen) reacting fan tweets; Lizzie unrolled the piece of paper, her eyes lighting up as she giggled with a little smirk.

“Elizabeth. .” You wearily trailed off, looking at your friend.

“Sorry, sorry. Okay! This tweet says if i could just pretty BEEP please with the juiciest most mouthwatering cherry on top get a not kid friendly scene of Wanda and (Your Character) I could die peacefully, my wish fulfilled. I implore you marvel, listen to your dying fan.”

“That tweet had over fifty thousand likes as well.” A feminine voice added in from behind the camera, laughter in her tone.

You and Lizzie turned to each other at the same time, grinning.

“I mean the fan is dying babe. .”

“Right? We should totally make this happen, like, totally.” She gave you a cheeky once over, eyes appreciating all of you. “Because it was the fans wish, not mine, duh.” Lizzie added.

“Mhm.” You hummed with a smirk.

The fourth clip was a evidently some sort of ‘guess the body part’ game: a photo of what you were pretty sure was your bottom half was the picture currently used for guessing, in the picture you were leaned over in a pair of yoga pants and in your personal opinion, you looked good. Well, your arse looked good (amazing, otherworldly—you humbly added)

Lizzie was the first person to answer, the video showing each persons turn one by one and immediately she said, “that’s my girl. Y/N.” Then giggling she added, “now get my girls booty off the screen, I don’t need you all ogling her. We get enough of that, sometimes causes a strain on us. But we’ve remained strong together.”

Paul Rudd was next and he stared at the picture of you for a few solid seconds, “it’s Y/N.” He sheepishly admitted. He pointed an accusing finger dramatically towards the camera—“I only know this because of all the edits you guys make!”

“You don’t have to watch them.” The interviewer pointed out innocently; Paul pouted, grumbling.

Next was Anthony who instantly answered, “That’s Y/N right here!” He hyped you up, grinning. “Don’t even try and make it creepy, we do glutes together man, it’s why we’re the best asses in the cast. Up top!” Anthony exclaimed, holding his hand up towards the picture as if pretending to high five you or something—the interviewer timidly gave him a high five.

Sebastian was next as you (and everyone) watch his eyes flicker and grin that was more of a smirk spread across his cheeks, “that’s definitely y/n.” He assumed instantly. “Would’ve been able to tell you that blindfolded.”

“But—“

“I’d have just sensed her.” Sebastian giggled.

Chris Evans was next—a grin picked up on his face immediately, eyes trained on the photo of you and he ran a hand over his beard, lightly biting his lip (HEELLLOOO????)

“That’s Y/n.” Chris stated confidently, smirking lightly and the camera caught some of the team in line of sight exchange raised eyebrows.

The fifth clip was of Brie Larson who was being interviewed on some sort of premiere event again—presumably or her (marvellous) movie, Captain Marvel, smiling at the interviewer.

“Out of all of the people on the Marvel Cast, those who you’ve met, do you have a favourite out of them?” The interview questioned.

“I’m not really one for favourites but I would definitely say I’m closest to Y/n! She’s—she’s just so lovely and funny and she’s like a ray of sunshine, honestly. She’s been a great help in the filming process as well, she coached me through everything with so patience—I would’ve strangled me if I was her, but no, she just had that adorable smile on her face. She’s truly an amazing person and a better friend than I thought possible.” Brie answered enthusiastically with a soft smile.

“Awwww! We love to hear that—are any of the rumours about her true?”

Brie blinked, seeming taken aback for a brief moment— “Yes she does smell amazing, she’s always effortlessly beautiful, she’s unfailingly hilarious and yes no one in this world deserves her. But like. . if she’s open to it,” Brie paused, winking at the camera and making a call me sign with her hands and mouthing the words with a flirty grin.

The sixth clip was of you, Tom Holland, RDJ, Paul Bettany, Zoe Saldana and Pom Klementieff on Jimmy Kimmel, tasked with drawing your characters. The clip started just as you turned around the drawing of your character and well, it was actually surprisingly good in your own opinion—the audience immediately erupted into loud and obnoxious cheers.

“As great as that is, love, it still doenst capture the extent of your beauty.” Tom Holland, who was sat to your left, grinned cheekily at you and the audience practically shouted and hooted.

“Would anything ever?” Zoe shot back from your right side, twirling a lock of your hair affectionately and smiling as she leaned against you.

“I sincerely doubt that anything could.” RDJ piped up, giving you an unapologetic grin when you looked over at him with fond exasperation as the crowd was practically inconsolable in their glee and enthusiasm, shouting out your praises. “Give it up for sunshine, people. Our gorgeous ray of sunshine!”

“I—“

“They are quite right, Y/n.” Paul Bettany spoke over Jimmy who was obviously going to try and calm down his crowd.

The seventh clip started playing: it was a clip taken from Jacob Batalon’s story, clearly in a party setting—the video showed you and Zendaya in the centre of the dance floor, everyone around you clearly watching you both as you danced up against each other to the sounds of Yeah! by Usher.

“Mate I think your girls about to be stole.” The voice of Tom’s friend, Harrison, sounded from beside Jacob and presumably Tom himself and to empathise Harrison’s words, Jacob zoomed in on your faces, wide grins of ecstasy, and the way Zendaya was admiring you.

“Right in public as well, the scandal.” Jacob cackled.

The eighth clip was an interview of Chris Evans and McKenna Grace (you adored that little girl to pieces). The two of them were answering the ‘Webs Most Searched Question’s’ together.

“Who was.. Chris Evans, date at the Oscars?”

McKenna immediately ooed, smiling teasingly and Chris laughed from beside her.

“This is getting juicy!”

“Well, it was my mom one year and then my sister last year—“

“He wishes it was Y/n though.” The little girl laughed with a beaming smile on her lips and you, present time, arched a brow.

Chris bashfully chuckled with a smile and you swore you could see a genuine red hue on his cheeks, “I mean—it’s Y/n. Anyone would be happy to go with her.”

“I would be!” McKenna excitedly exclaimed as she grinned so sweetly you were now going to make sure you took this sweet child with you to the Oscar’s, Chris seemed to melt as well, recovering from his brief flustered moment.

The ninth clip was Sebastian and Anthony reading out their thirst tweets in a Buzzfeed interview, the clip started as Sebastian was pulling out a tweet from the large bucket.

He read it to himself and blushed faintly, Anthony’s eyebrows practically reaching his forehead as he tried to lean over and read it but Sebastian jokingly shoved him back.

“Oh for—That scene where (Your Character) chokes baby Bucky out with her thighs, his—his head all up in there; the shit I would give to be her, I would give my soul, my fridge, my moms purse, my dads golf clubs. Please, sir. Put your face between my legs like you did Y/n.”

By the end of the tweet, Sebastian had a deeply awkward and slightly perturbed look on his face and Anthony cackled at his side.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure he was more than happy with it being Y/n, wouldn’t change it even for your dads golf clubs.” Anthony laughed.

“That’s. . I’m gonna have to decline that, um, respectfully.” Sebastian spoke in regards to the tweet, ignoring Anthony.

In turn, Anthony ignored Sebastian as well and just dramatically kept winking at the camera.

The tenth clip was Cobie Smulders, who was being interviewed on some sort of carpet event, smile on her face as she spoke to the interviewer before her.

“How does it feel knowing that the lesbian community, myself included, are firmly rooting for your character, Maria and Y/N’s character (Your Character) to end up together?”

Cobie’s smile turned genuinely delighted, “I love it—we love it. Y/n and I actually have made so many PowerPoints and presented them to the Russo brothers, but alas. I do really want to end up with her—oops, sorry, wait. I really want my character to end with hers. . would be the appropriate wording. But I’m all for inappropriate if Y/n wants.”

Cobie jokingly bit her lip at the camera and you, watching the video, could not contain your laughter as the interviewer practically burst out with excitement.

The eleventh clip was a blooper from your filming of the avengers—you were standing next to Chris Hemsworth who had an arm around your waist, holding you to him as in the scene his character, Thor, flies the both of you away. But Chris quickly tugged you in front of him and began tickling you mercilessly, hysterical giggles falling from your lips as the people around you laughed as well.

“Chris, HAVE MERCY!”

“Aw, but I enjoy hearing your laughter. It’s a very pretty sound.” Chris laughed to himself, finally stopping his attack and letting you slump against his, back to his front. “I particularly like this as well.” He smirked down at you.

“CHRI—“

In the twelfth clip, you and Tessa Thompson were reading out thirst tweets together: “The feminine urge to fall asleep cuddled into Y/n’s boobs is too real, pls come here mommy.” You read out, giggling all the while.

“The urge is so strong.” Tess commented, nodding her add as she sneakily glanced at your chest with a innocent smile.

“Come here, baby.” You joked, laughing as you opened your arms for her and she practically leaped into them, resting her head on your chest.

“I’m living the dreams of millions right now and it feels amazing.” Tessa gloated jokingly, pulling away from you with only final squeeze and a little wink the camera caught.

“I concur.” You grinned back.

The thirteenth clip was you and Tom Hiddleston, talking with an interviewer on a carpet event. His arm was around your waist and both of you were wearing smiles greeting the interviewer.

“So, obviously, you both act in marvel movies, but not really close together! If you could, would you want to work more closely and have you characters be more involved?”

“I absolutely would.” Tom immediately replied with an honest, heartwarming smile. “And personally, it’s not even a fact of our characters being intertwined it’s more that working this fantastic woman beside me is a gift I have come to deeply cherish, truly it’s an honour. And I suppose, if our characters were to get involved, so to speak, that I would enjoy that because this is the y/n y/l/n, I’d be a mad man not to want that.” He finished charmingly.

You grinned, taking a bow, and both Tom and the interviewer laughed before that clip cut as well.

The fourteenth clip was at Comic-Con, mostly everyone on the cast had already been called out and taken their seats and then your name was called, the audience erupting into loud cheers.

Sebastian, who was sat next to your assigned seat, hopped and and jogged over to offer you his arm as you grinned and waved at everyone—the crowd screaming louder at his actions.

The screams only increased as Chris Evans and Don Cheadle got up to pull out your chair for you to sit down in—you pretended to swoon into Sebastian before kissing all of their cheeks and taking your seat.

“Where was the treatment for me?” RDJ joked.

“Man, they’re just whipped. But, like, who isn’t for Y/n?” Anthony stage whispered back to him and the crowd literally roared in excitement.

The fifteenth clip was Aaron Taylor-Johnson being interviewed with Lizzie for the Age of Ultron press, most probably.

“So, Aaron, obviously your character—spoilers, sorry—isn’t with us anymore but if you had the chance to explore Pietro more, who would you have wanted to explore a romance with?”

“(Your Character) definitely, Y/N.” Aaron answered with a little sheepish grin at the speed and Lizzie giggled into her palm.

“I’m not making fun, I agree, for myself.” Lizzie commented unprompted.

“Why is that?” The interviewer questioned.

“Why—mate, I think it’s pretty obvious. Y/n is such a stunning person, inside and out, I would have loved to—and obviously her character is extremely sick and I’m certain the relationship between her and Pietro would’ve been the stuff of legends but. . come on, Y/n Y/l/n is my real reason.” Aaron joked.

“Get your own girl, she’s mine.” Lizzie glared.

There were still many minutes left of the video left and that alone astounded you; overcome with cackles, you forwarded the video the your Marvel groupchat—so yall bitches like obsessed with me or sum 🥰🥰🥰