#;; & headcanon

[echonoah]

Kris and the Player//

Mini comic

I had a dream where the SOUL could shapeshift into anything they wanted

When the otherworldly being controlling you loves you so much they take your form in hopes of you liking them back

[0scarp1astr1]

Spoiled Much? (P1)

જ⁀➴ Desc: || Pranking them but telling them you let another man pay for you. ||

P2 (COMING SOON)

ᯓ★ Featuring: Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, Fernando Alonso.

ᯓ★ 1x Genre: Humor

ᯓ★ Warning: None

ᯓ★ Requested? Yes

Author Note: We are back to headcanons! and doing requests given to me. I've been working on the masterlist that will soon replace the original pinned post. It'll have links to each part of these headcanosn so I hope you all enjoy.

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Max Verstappen

It all started with a few innocent scrolls on TikTok—girls pranking their boyfriends left and right—and you figured, why not? Max had just handed you his card to go grab a few things from the store, trusting you like he always did. That’s when the perfect plan popped into your mind.

"Call me if you need me," he said casually, completely unaware. You hummed in response, leaned over to kiss his cheek, and slipped out of the car with a little too much pep in your step.

Max leaned back in the driver’s seat, letting the car sit idle in the parking spot. At first, he thought nothing of your delay. He assumed you were just stuck in a long line. Meanwhile, inside, you were hunched over a cart, hiding your giggles behind your hand as you rehearsed the prank in your head.

Eventually, you managed to compose yourself, strolled out with your bags in hand, and tossed them into the back seat before slipping into your place beside him. You buckled up, eyes wide with innocent mischief.

"The man I ran into was really nice—he paid for everything," you said smoothly.

Max turned toward you, brow already furrowing. "The man?" he echoed, confused. "What are you talking about, lieverd?"

You nodded, playing it cool. "Yeah, he said I was pretty and that I shouldn’t have to pay on my own, so...he paid for everything."

Max leaned toward you, staring like he was trying to read your soul. "You weren’t paying on your own? That was literally my card."

"Yeah," you shrugged, holding it out to him. "But he insisted."

He took the card from your hand, jaw tightening slightly. "How old was this guy?"

You pretended to think, dragging out the moment. "Hmm… around your age, I guess?"

Max scoffed. "And he just—what—started complimenting you and offered to pay? Just like that?"

You fought the urge to burst into laughter. "He wasn’t hitting on me," you said, smiling just a little too much.

"He called you pretty," Max shot back, frowning. "And don’t get me wrong—you are—but still. He clearly meant what he said. That’s not casual."

You just nodded solemnly, letting the tension hang in the air a second longer before he abruptly unbuckled. "Alright, I’m going back inside to find this guy."

You grabbed his arm, laughter spilling out now. "Max, wait—"

"No, seriously," he huffed. "He thinks you’re single or something. Like he has a shot. I can afford to fly you to Monaco, let you live in my house, be spoiled every day of your life—what can he offer you?"

You were full-on laughing now, tears threatening to sting your eyes. "Baby, I was pranking you. There was no guy. I used your card like you said."

Max froze, blinking at you. Slowly, his stern expression melted into something softer, almost amused.

"You’re evil," he muttered, shaking his head. Then he let out a quiet laugh of his own. "Don’t joke like that, lieverd. You know I don’t care if people think you’re pretty—but if someone’s actually hitting on you? No. Absolutely not."

You leaned over, kissing his cheek. "Look at you, all protective and jealous."

"You nearly scared me to death, lieverd,"

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Charles Leclerc

Charles was home, lounging on the couch with Leo curled up beside him, the little dog resting his chin on Charles' leg like the most loyal companion. The TV played softly in the background, a comforting buzz. Before you left, Charles had handed you his card with a smile, telling you to get whatever you were craving for dinner tonight. But instead of heading straight home after shopping, you were too busy plotting your latest prank—one inspired by a few too many TikToks.

"I'm home!" you called out as you stepped inside. At once, Leo perked up, leaping from the couch and padding over to greet you with his tail wagging wildly.

Charles looked over his shoulder. "I was starting to worry," he said, standing up. "You took longer than usual."

You smiled innocently, setting your keys down and slipping off your shoes. After leaning in to kiss his cheek, you dropped the first line. "Sorry, this guy paid for everything and we just got caught up in conversation."

Charles froze, staring at you like you'd just said the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “Je t’ai donné ma carte ?” he asked, blinking slowly.

You hummed. "I know, but he was really sweet. Said I shouldn’t worry my pretty little head about paying. He covered it."

Charles just stared for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “That’s unbelievable. People are going to assume you're dating him.”

You fought back a grin, holding it in with all your strength. "No one’s going to think that but you, Charles."

“Sure, sure,” he muttered, eyes narrowing as he turned on his heel and headed toward the kitchen. You followed him, bags in hand.

"Tu fais la moue ?" you teased once inside, catching a glimpse of his unmistakably pouty expression.

Charles didn’t even try to hide it. He just stared at you, arms crossed like a sulking prince. “I treat you well. We live in Monaco. We have Leo,” he gestured around, like the dog was part of his romantic résumé. “I drive in F1—and you're letting some random guy hit on you, baby?”

You couldn’t help it anymore. You broke, laughing as you set the bags on the counter. “I was just messing with you, Charles. There was no guy. I used your card—like I was supposed to.”

He let out a long sigh, his head dropping back slightly. “Don’t scare me like that, woman. I thought some random was actually going to take you away from me.”

You walked up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m with you, Charles. Why would some random have me?”

He gave a tiny shrug, still sulking. “You never know.”

You patted his back playfully. “I got you good,” you said through a soft laugh. Leo barked at your feet as if to agree, his tail wagging like he, too, was in on the joke.

Charles looked down at the dog, then at you, his pout slowly morphing into a smirk

“Yeah, well—just wait, Y/N. One day, I’ll get you back.”

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Lewis Hamilton

You and Lewis had been shopping together most of the day, casually wandering the aisles like the soft domestic duo you were. At some point, Lewis veered off toward the pet section to get Roscoe a few new treats and maybe a fresh toy or two, promising to meet you up front when he was done. You nodded sweetly and went your own way—though behind that innocent look, you were plotting. And not just any plan: a prank. A classic, lighthearted trap for your sweet, loving, “just tell me what you need and I’ll buy it” boyfriend.

After grabbing everything you came for, you paid for your cart using your own money, then waited with the most innocent look you could muster. Lewis eventually showed up, a plush dog bed under one arm and a pack of Roscoe’s favorite snacks in the other.

"You already paid for your stuff?" he asked, dropping the items onto the counter.

You nodded, slipping into character. "No actually… this really nice guy offered to pay. Said I looked beautiful today, and he didn’t want me lifting a finger."

Lewis blinked. “He what?”

"He paid for me," you repeated with a shrug, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling. "Said it was his pleasure. Real gentleman type."

Lewis squinted at you like you just told him someone insulted Roscoe. "Baby… that man was flirting with you."

You shook your head, playing dumb. “No, he was just being nice.”

“Right. ‘Just being nice,’” Lewis echoed, making air quotes with a look of complete disbelief. “Because men randomly pay for groceries out of the kindness of their hearts and not at all to shoot their shot with a gorgeous woman.”

You kept your poker face as he grabbed the shopping bags and kept going. “I don’t see myself out here buying random women’s almond milk and cucumbers just to be nice. That’s a move.”

You tried to hide your smirk. “You sound a little… jealous.”

Lewis narrowed his eyes. “I’m not jealous. I’m logical. Man sees a beautiful woman, she’s alone, he tries his luck with his wallet. Basic flirting algorithm.”

“I mean, it worked. He was really sweet.”

That did it.

Lewis ran a hand down his face and let out a long sigh. “Look, it’s great someone thinks you’re hot enough to swipe a card for—but you know I’m right here. You never have to let some man pay for you when your boyfriend drives for a living. Just sayin’.”

You watched him ramble with a barely contained laugh as he kept going.

“I mean, come on, I spoil you for a reason. And now some stranger thinks he can step in with a grocery run? That’s his whole move?”

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You burst into laughter, your body shaking as you leaned into the cart. “Lewis. Babe. It was a prank. I paid for everything. No man, no flirting, no almond milk Casanova.”

He blinked, pausing mid-rant. “Wait… you’re serious?”

“I am. Gotcha.”

He took a breath like someone who’d just been pulled from open water. “I’m forty, woman. You can’t play with my blood pressure like that.”

You grinned. “Alright, old man.”

Lewis straightened up immediately. “I am not an old man.”

“You didn’t even catch on to the prank, grandpa.”

He narrowed his eyes, his lips tugging into a smirk. “Forty doesn’t make me old. It makes me wise. And this wise man now knows he’s being pranked in public.”

You patted his back “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll go easy on you next time.”

Lewis gave a low chuckle, wagging a finger at you.

“No, no. You started something. A prank war is officially declared. So… just be prepared.”

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Lando Norris

When it came to you and Lando, pranks weren’t just an occasional thing—they were a lifestyle. The relationship came with love, laughter, and a mild risk of heart attacks. Like the time he woke you up at 3AM with a horror mask and you nearly karate-kicked him into next week. Or when you served him a fish smoothie and he banned you from the blender for a month. Your TikTok followers? Obsessed. They lived for every prank war update, every meltdown, every squeal of revenge.

So when you got tagged in a new viral prank trend, it was practically a public request to strike again. You didn’t hesitate. The phone was propped up, camera rolling discreetly, and you were all set. Lando, of course, had no clue what was coming.

You heard the door open and quickly pretended to be busy with prep in the kitchen. He walked in, hoodie slightly damp from the gym, cheeks flushed from the workout. “Smells good,” he said, setting down the grocery bag before leaning in for a soft kiss. “Took me forever to find that stupid oat cream you like.”

You smiled sweetly. “Oh, you didn’t have to. I ended up sending that list to Joshua earlier, and he already grabbed everything for me. Paid for it too. Said, and I quote, ‘anything for the pretty lady.’ Sweet, huh?”

Lando froze, hand still half-in the bag. “Joshua?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nodded, biting your inner cheek.

He blinked. “As in your friend Joshua? The one who wears too much cologne and tried to teach me how to salsa at that dinner party?”

You tilted your head. “Yeah, he insisted.”

Lando scoffed, standing up straighter. “I literally sweat through my hoodie at the gym, fought for a parking spot, went to four aisles for oat cream—and you let another man, one who smells like a Hugo Boss sample sale, buy your groceries?”

You struggled to keep a straight face. “He was being nice.”

“Oh, nice? Nice?! That’s the international signal for flirting. What’s next, is he gonna tuck you into bed and read you poetry? Babe, if I see him handing you a spoon while you're cooking, I might lose it.”

“Are you jealous?”

“I’m insulted. I’m offended. I’m—” He placed a hand over his chest. “—deeply betrayed. I mean, I pay rent! I drive race cars for a living! I went out to get snacks for your cravings at 4AM one time! And now I’m just… footnote boyfriend?”

You snorted. “You’re so dramatic.”

He gasped. “Go ask Joshua to massage your feet tonight then. My spa services are officially retired. Hope he has peppermint oil.”

At that point, you burst into laughter, pointing toward the camera recording from the corner. Lando followed your gaze, groaned, and dragged a hand down his face. “You little gremlin,” he muttered. “Of course it’s a prank. Of course.”

“Aww, you love me.”

“I do. Too much. Which is why you’re lucky you’re cute, because anyone else trying this would be blocked and reported.”

You leaned up, kissing his jaw gently. “You’re my favorite victim.”

He smirked. “And you’re my favorite menace. But just know—this war? It’s not over. I know you're scared of some bugs and some...other things. I’ve got Oscar on speed dial.”

Your eyes widened. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I will. I already know where you hide your slippers.”

“LANDO NORRIS!” you shrieked as he backed into the hallway, giggling like the absolute child he was.

“Love you!” he called over his shoulder.

“Calling Oscar now! Let’s ruin her life!”

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Carlos Sainz

Carlos and you had been on the road for way too long, the kind of drive where you’ve already debated three podcast topics, played the same five songs on repeat, and shared half a bag of chips in silence. You were coming back from a much-needed trip—two full weeks away from the chaos of daily life. But now, you were finally heading home. And honestly? You were ready.

Still, you needed one last laugh before real life kicked back in. So, naturally, you plotted a prank.

You’d been riding like a queen in the passenger seat the whole time—pillow tucked under your head, cozy in the Christmas blanket Carlos had gotten you last year, doing everything but offering to drive. So when Carlos offered to go into the store to grab some snacks, you stopped him with a sweet smile and a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll go,” you insisted, taking his card from his hand.

He smirked. “Okay, but bring chips. Whatever you pick, I’ll eat it, mi amor.”

Inside, you grabbed everything you both liked—chips, drinks, something sweet. But instead of swiping his card, you paid with yours. And as you made your way back to the car, the plan was already in motion.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you handed him his card back with a calm smile. “You know,” you said casually, “the cashier was really nice. Paid for everything himself. Said he’d just take it out of his paycheck. Also told me my shirt looked cute.”

Carlos stared at you. “Wait—my shirt? That’s literally mine, you’re wearing my clothes.”

“Yeah, but he liked it,” you said with a shrug. “Said it brought out my eyes.”

Carlos blinked at you like he’d just short-circuited. “Oh my god.”

You bit your lip, trying to hide your laugh.

“Mi amor, what do you mean some random cashier paid for your snacks and flirted with you while you were wearing my clothes? Do I look like I’m sharing?”

You tried to keep a straight face as he gestured wildly at the snack bag like it had betrayed him. “I don’t even want these anymore. I can’t eat the chips. They’ve been... compromised.”

“Carlos—”

“No, seriously. You have a ring on your finger! Granted, it’s a promise ring, but still, the promise is loud and clear! I was gone for five minutes and I already lost you to a gas station Romeo?”

That was it. You burst out laughing, your head thrown back as tears formed in your eyes.

He narrowed his gaze, suspicious. “Wait. No. Don’t tell me...”

Still giggling, you nodded. “It’s a prank. I paid with my card.”

He groaned and started the engine again, shaking his head. “You almost gave me a heart attack, mi vida.”

You wiped your eyes, still giggling. “I have to tell Charles about this. He’s going to love it.”

Carlos turned, deadpan. “Do not tell Charles. I swear, if that man starts calling me Gas Station Cuckold or something—”

“You’re being dramatic!”

“I’m being real!” he exclaimed. “That was emotional damage.”

You leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You love me.”

He sighed. “Way too much. And that’s exactly the problem.”

You laughed again as he muttered under his breath, pulling back onto the road. “Just know...this isn’t over. I’ve got something planned. Something evil.”

“Oh yeah?” you smirked.

He grinned. “Just wait till you wake up to find glitter in your shampoo.”

“CARLOS!”

“Love you!”

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Fernando Alonso

You and Fernando had only recently tied the knot — rings still shining, wedding playlists still stuck in your heads. The honeymoon? Cut short by his ever-demanding racing schedule. But to make up for it (and to keep his guilt in check), Fernando had surprised you with a follow-up getaway, your choice of destination. Romantic, thoughtful… and, as you decided, the perfect setting to prank your new husband.

The internet had become obsessed with your marriage — overnight, you'd gone from “regular girl with decent taste in sunglasses” to “Fernando Alonso’s wife who posts adorable reels.” So when fans started tagging you in prank challenges, you figured: why not give the people what they want?

Camera hidden. Kitchen smelling like garlic and glory. Tomatoes being sliced with intention. You were ready.

Fernando walked into the vacation home and immediately lit up. “Huele bien,” he smiled, shrugging off his jacket.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sliding the tomatoes into the pot. “Took me a minute to get it all, though. I accidentally brought the wrong card with me to the store.”

He frowned immediately, concerned. “You should’ve called me, mi amor. I would’ve paid—”

“No need. A very sweet guy at the store paid for me. Said he didn’t want a pretty girl like me to struggle.”

The air stilled. Fernando blinked. Once. Twice.

“I’m sorry, what?” he said slowly.

You kept stirring the pot, tone completely casual. “Yeah, he just insisted. Said it was no trouble. Even complimented my top. Super nice guy.”

Fernando was now planted in place like he’d just been hit with a yellow flag mid-race.

“So... some stranger,” he started, arms crossing, “paid for your groceries. Complimented you. And you just… thanked him and left?”

“Yep.”

“You didn’t say, ‘Oh, I’m married to Fernando Alonso, two-time world champion, racing legend, heartthrob since 2001’?”

You blinked innocently. “Didn’t think it was necessary.”

Fernando threw his hands up. “Necessary?! That ring I gave you is the size of a small island. It has its own timezone. You could signal planes with it.”

You bit back a grin as he kept spiraling. “And this guy? Just decided to be your white knight? At the produce section?! He sees you picking tomatoes and thinks, ‘Yes, this damsel needs saving’?”

You nodded, trying so hard not to laugh. “Pretty much.”

He started pacing. “No. No, no, no. See, I make you feel better when you’re down. I buy you things. I compliment you. I signed up for that role! This guy? He’s just freelancing emotional support. I should find him.”

You turned, finally pointing toward the fruit bowl hiding your phone. “Or... you could relax. Because you’ve been pranked.”

Fernando froze. “You’re joking.”

You just smiled.

He leaned in, spotting the camera, then groaned dramatically. “Oh my god. I gave a full speech. I even included my racing credentials.”

“And it was a very passionate monologue,” you teased.

He stared at you, narrowing his eyes. “You’re evil.”

“Maybe. But I’m your evil.”

He shook his head, muttering something in Spanish before pausing. “Also… be honest with me. Was I really hot in the early 2000s?”

Your head snapped up. “Fernando. You were unfairly hot in the 2000s. Like, ‘could’ve ruined my life if we’d met back then’ hot. The hair? The fire? The attitude? I would've fallen hard.”

He raised a brow, trying not to look too pleased. “Gracias, mi vida. Very sweet of you.”

Then he pointed at you, smug returning full force. “But don’t think flattery will save you. You will be pranked back. And when it happens? You’ll regret ever stirring that tomato sauce.”

You giggled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “You’re adorable when you’re dramatic.”

He smirked, grabbing a spoon and tasting the pasta. “I was adorable in the 2000s too.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m going to post this entire thing.”

“I know,” he sighed.

“Just tag me in it — and put ‘Oscar-worthy performance’ in the caption.”

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[p1girlfriend]

✦soft habits – f1 grid reactions✦

lando norris ── .✦

he finds out when you fall asleep during a movie night in his hotel room. you’re curled up under the blanket, holding your stuffed animal close.

“wait… is that a stuffed bear?” he melts. takes a quick pic and immediately makes it his phone lockscreen. “you sleep with that every night? you’re literally the cutest thing alive. can i borrow it when you're not here?”

oscar piastri ── .✦

he notices it peeking from your pillow the first time he stays over.

“is this yours?” picks it up very carefully, like it's a sacred object. he's a little awkward about it, but there's a tiny smile he can’t hide. “i think it’s sweet. makes sense you’d have something that soft. kind of like you.” then he makes space for it between you two every night like it’s non-negotiable.

charles leclerc ── .✦

he walks into your room one morning, bringing you coffee, and catches you still in bed hugging it.

he stops. stares. then smirks.

“mon ange… i didn’t know i had competition.” he’ll tease you endlessly—but always makes sure your plush is packed whenever you travel. even buckles it in the car sometimes.

lewis hamilton ── .✦

he gently moves it out of the way to cuddle you and goes:

“aww, you still sleep with your baby.” kisses your forehead and pulls you closer. “that’s the kind of softness the world needs more of.” ends up naming it and giving it a whole personality. now it’s officially a trio: you, Lewis, and Mr. Snuggles.

carlos sainz ── .✦

he notices it on the bed and picks it up like

“¿Y esto?” you blush, and he just grins. “That’s cute. I like it. Reminds me you're still a kid at heart.” then throws it up in the air a few times like it’s a toy for him now, until you snatch it back and he laughs like a menace. he still respects the plushy bedtime ritual though.

daniel ricciardo ── .✦

full-on dramatic reaction.

“NO WAY. you sleep with THIS? every night???” immediately names it something stupid like “Sir Cuddles McSnuggs” and creates a backstory. but he secretly loves that you do it. “i’m not even mad. you’re too cute. can he be our child?”

gabriel bortoleto ── .✦

he’s surprised but so gentle about it.

“Você dorme com ele sempre?” / (“Do you always sleep with it?”) he runs his fingers over it with this soft smile and asks where you got it, if it has a name, how long you've had it. “Posso te dar outro? Tipo, um irmãozinho pra ele?” (“Can I give you another one? Like, a little brother for him?”) buys you a matching one in your favorite color a week later.

franco colapinto ── .✦

tries to play it cool but is clearly flustered.

“Oh… you still sleep with that?” pause. “That’s… actually kind of adorable. Like, really adorable.” pretends he’s not obsessed. secretly gets jealous when you hug the plush more than him.

©p1girlfriend | requests are open!

[mirisss]

Enha reacting to their gf (accidentally) wearing another member's clothes

Enhypen x female reader

Summary: Enhypen live together, with separate rooms of course, however, sometimes when doing their laundry, clothes end up in the wrong member's closet, something their gf is about to experience firsthand today. So, how does Enhypen react when they come home to their gf wearing another member's clothes? 

Warnings: Some jealousy, some mean actions (more petty, I think), I think that’s it, 

Wordcount ≈ 3.2k

~~~ Heeseung ~~~

It’s late evening when the boys return to the dorm, laughing, bickering, arms weighed down with takeout bags and convenience store snacks. The door swings open and Heeseung is the first one to walk in, his voice casual as he announces, “We’re back!”

Then he sees you.

You’re curled up on the couch, scrolling on your phone, looking entirely at ease in what appears to be an oversized t-shirt. His shirt, at least that’s what he assumes for a split second. But then his eyes narrow slightly. He recognizes that hemline. That color. That faint logo near the collar.

That’s not his shirt. That’s Ni-ki’s. There’s a flicker of something behind his calm expression, barely a flash of irritation. But Heeseung doesn’t say anything right away. He walks over, bends down to press a soft kiss to your cheek. “Hey, baby,” he murmurs, brushing your hair behind your ear. You smile, unaware of the mini storm brewing behind his gentle gaze. Then, still leaning in close, he whispers, “Come to my room for a second. I wanna talk to you.”

Your brows furrow slightly, but you nod and follow him, unaware of the quiet chaos about to unfold. As soon as the door closes behind you, Heeseung turns on his heel and yanks the shirt off you in one smooth motion. You gasp, caught off guard, arms instinctively crossing over your chest.

“Heeseung!” you exclaim, stunned. “What are you doing?!” “That’s not my shirt,” he says flatly, already digging through his drawer. “That’s Ni-ki’s.” You blink. “I-I got it from your closet! I didn’t know it wasn’t yours!” “I know,” he mutters, finally pulling out one of his own oversized tees, familiar and worn, with the scent of his cologne still lingering in the cotton. He gently slips it over your head, careful now, his initial jealousy softening.

“There,” he says quietly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “That’s better.” You’re still staring at him, flustered, as he turns back toward the bed, where Ni-ki’s shirt lies in a crumpled heap. And then, into the trash it goes.

“Heeseung!” you scold, jumping up. “That’s not yours to throw away!” He shrugs, not even looking guilty. “It was on my girl. I’m allowed.” You roll your eyes, grabbing the shirt from the trash bin. “You are so dramatic.”

A few minutes later, Heeseung returns to the living room, his arm casually slung around your waist now. But when he tosses the retrieved shirt into Ni-ki’s lap, the tension is still lingering in the air. “Here,” he says coolly. “You left this in my closet.” Ni-ki looks confused, glancing between Heeseung and the shirt. “…Oh. Thanks?”

Heeseung doesn’t say anything else. He just stares for half a second longer than necessary before walking off. Ni-ki blinks. “Did I miss something?” Sunghoon snorts. “Probably.”

~~~ Jay ~~~

The dorm is quiet for once. Some of the boys are out, a couple are napping, and Jay’s in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, carefully plating dinner for the two of you like it’s a five-star restaurant.

You walk in, barefoot, in what you think is one of his shirts, a loose, white cotton tee that smells a bit like fabric softener and something citrusy as well as a white mini-skirt. You love wearing his clothes, and he usually loves seeing you in them. Actually, he’s kind of obsessed with it.

Normally, he’d have that smug smirk. He’d wrap an arm around your waist, whisper something like “You look better in my clothes than I do”, and start calling you his princess until you’re red in the face. But today? Nothing.

He glances up briefly when you enter, gives you a small nod, then goes right back to stirring something in a pan. You blink. “Hey,” you say slowly, walking further into the kitchen. “You okay?” “Yeah,” he replies, not even turning around. That’s when it really hits you, he hasn’t said a word about the shirt. No flirting. No clinginess. No playful comment about how cute you look in it. Just silence.

Weird. You pad up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist, cheek pressed to his back. “You like my outfit?” you ask, tone light and teasing. Jay pauses. “No.” You blink. Pull back just enough to look up at him. “No?” He finally turns to face you, arms crossed, a look on his face that’s somewhere between offended and resigned. His eyes flick to the shirt again.

“That’s not mine,” he says simply. “It’s Jake’s.” Your jaw drops. “Wait, what? No way. I got it from your drawer.” “We all did laundry together this week. I guess some stuff got mixed.” You burst out laughing. “So you have been acting weird because I’m wearing Jake’s shirt!”

“I haven’t been acting weird,” he says quickly. You raise a brow. He avoids your eyes. “Okay. Maybe a little.” You smile, stepping in closer, wrapping your arms around his neck now. “You’re seriously sulking over a t-shirt, Jay?” “No,” he mutters, slipping his hands around your waist, “I’m sulking because my girlfriend is walking around in Jake’s shirt and smiling like she’s in a commercial.”

You giggle and lean up to kiss his cheek. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.” “I’m not jealous,” he lies. You kiss him again, this time properly, slow and sweet, until his shoulders finally relax and his mouth curves into a soft smile. “I’ll change,” you whisper, brushing your nose against his. “But only if you promise to stop acting like a stranger.” “I’ll only stop,” he whispers back, “if you wear mine for the rest of the week.” “Deal.”

Later, Jake walks into his bedroom to find his t-shirt folded neatly on his bed, smelling faintly of Jay’s cologne. He doesn’t ask. He just knows. 

~~~ Jake ~~~

Jake loves a lot of things: his members, his music, his dog, snacks, but nothing quite compares to how much he loves you. More specifically? You, in his clothes.

He’s made it a habit to beg, literally beg, you to wear his hoodies, his t-shirts, even his socks if he’s feeling dramatic. There’s something about seeing his girlfriend wrapped up in his scent, looking cozy and soft and completely his, that just melts him.

So when he gets home that night, tossing off his shoes and calling out a cheerful, “Baaabyyy, I’m home!” he’s fully expecting to see you flying into his arms. And you do. Almost. You peek your head out from the hallway, grinning, wearing a hoodie that’s a little oversized, sleeves hiding your hands.

But then his expression changes. His steps slow. His arms, half-raised for a hug, drop slightly. Because that? That’s not his hoodie. His smile falls into a full pout. His usual sunshine eyes dim into puppy dog sadness. You walk over, noticing instantly that something’s off. “Jake? What’s wrong?” He doesn’t say anything at first. Just stares at the hoodie like it personally betrayed him.

“Do you hate me?” You blink. “What?” His bottom lip actually trembles. “You must. You’re not wearing my clothes. That’s Sunghoon’s hoodie.” You glance down, shocked. “Wait, it is?! I thought this was yours!” He gasps softly, placing a hand dramatically over his chest. “You mean, you couldn’t tell? Mine has the little rip near the sleeve! Mine smells like vanilla and heaven and devotion!”

You try not to laugh. “Jake-” “No, no, it’s okay,” he sighs, already turning away. “You probably like Sunghoon’s better. I get it. He’s got good taste. His hoodie’s probably warmer or something-” You grab his wrist, spinning him back toward you. “Stop it, you big baby.”

He looks down at you, eyes still wide and mopey. You cup his face in your hands and lean up to give him a long, slow kiss, one that has him blinking in surprise, then melting into you like butter in a microwave. When you pull back, you smile. “Now, can you take me to your room so I can wear your hoodie instead?” His eyes light up immediately. “Really?” “Really really.”

Jake doesn’t waste a second. He grabs your hand and practically drags you to his room, fishing out one of his softest, most well-loved hoodies. As soon as you slip it on, he practically tackles you into bed with a grin.

You spend the rest of the night cuddled up, his arms around your waist, nose buried in your shoulder as he mumbles, “See? You’re warmer in mine anyway,” You giggle, burying your fingers in his hair. “I’d wear a trash bag if it smelled like you.” Jake groans. “Now you’re gonna make me cry again.”

~~~ Sunghoon ~~~

Sunghoon steps into the dorm, tired from practice but instantly energized when he sees you waiting in the living room. Without hesitation, he crosses the room in a few strides and wraps you in a warm, tight hug, burying his face in your hair.

“I missed you,” he whispers softly into your ear. You smile, melting into his arms. But when you pull away from the hug, Sunghoon’s eyes flick down and freeze. The shirt you’re wearing is definitely not yours. It’s definitely not his. It’s bright, a bit oversized, and unmistakably Sunoo’s. For a moment, a flicker of jealousy twists in his chest.

He doesn’t want to make a scene. Not in front of the other members who might be around. So instead, he keeps his tone calm and low, even though the tight grip of his hands around your waist lingers just a second longer than usual.

“Come with me,” he says quietly, tugging you gently by the hand toward the kitchen. You follow him, curious. Sunghoon opens the fridge, pulling out a carton of juice, and pours a glass for you both. He hands you the glass with a small smile, and then, accidentally, a little too clumsily, some juice spills across your shirt.

Your eyes widen in shock. “Sunghoon! Oh no, my- no, your shirt” He shrugs with innocent puppy eyes. “I’m sorry. I guess it’s time for you to change. Besides, it’s not my shirt, it’s Sunoo’s,” You glance down, watching the red stain spread across the front. It’s Sunoo’s favorite white shirt, you finally recognized it, and now it was marked with a bright splash. Sunghoon bites his lip, trying to hide a smile. “Maybe you can wear mine instead?”

Later, when you find out he did it on purpose, you can’t help but tease him mercilessly. “Three days with no kisses,” you declare, crossing your arms and giving him a playful glare. Sunghoon’s eyes go wide, and he instantly turns pouty. “What?! That’s unfair!”

You giggle as he runs off to find Sunoo, begging for forgiveness and hoping the punishment gets lifted. Sunghoon returns a little while later, cheeks flushed, holding Sunoo’s stained shirt wrapped carefully in a plastic bag. He kneels down in front of you, eyes hopeful. “Please,” he whispers, “kiss me? Just once? I promise to do all the laundry.” You grin and pull him in for a soft, forgiving kiss, watching the jealousy melt away into warmth and laughter.

~~~ Sunoo ~~~

Sunoo steps into the dorm, excited to see you after a long day. He spots you right away, lounging casually in an oversized shirt that looks familiar but not quite right. He blinks twice and his eyes widen. That’s Jungwon’s shirt. And not just any shirt, but one that looks like it’s been pulled straight from Jungwon’s sporty, casual wardrobe, definitely not Sunoo’s sleek, trendy style.

His lips press into a thin line. Sunoo takes a slow step toward you, and the moment you look up, he’s already pouting, arms crossed dramatically. “Why are you wearing that ugly shirt?” he asks, voice thick with mock offense. You blink, genuinely confused. “Wait, that’s your shirt. Why are you calling it ugly?” “Because,” he says, flicking a hand like he’s delivering a royal decree, “it’s not my style. And if you’re going to wear my stuff, it better be something good, you know, fashion-forward.”

He’s already plotting his next move, unwilling to let this slight slide. You try to laugh it off, but Sunoo is determined. He doesn’t stop pouting or dramatically sighing until you finally agree to change out of Jungwon’s shirt and into one of his own stylish, carefully selected pieces. Once you do, he practically tackles you with kisses, dozens of them, each one more insistent than the last. “See?” he murmurs between kisses. “Much better.”

Later that day, Jungwon walks past his bed and notices his shirt folded neatly… with a little note pinned on top. “Keep your ugly stuff away from my girl, thanks.” He chuckles, shaking his head. Sunoo might be dramatic, but he’s definitely his own brand of adorable.

~~~ Jungwon ~~~

Jungwon never gets jealous. He’s said it more than once, casually and confidently, because it’s true. He trusts you completely. Even when strangers flirt with you or his members playfully cling to you, he never bats an eye. He knows where your heart lies, and his is with you, without a doubt. But even the most composed hearts can waver sometimes.

It’s a quiet afternoon at the dorm when he walks into his room, expecting to find it empty or maybe you napping. What he doesn’t expect is to see you curled up on his bed, reading a book, the sleeves of an oversized hoodie draping over your hands.

At first, it warms him. You look so peaceful. But then he stops. That hoodie. It’s navy blue. A little worn. Faintly stitched at the bottom hem with a name. Jay. Jungwon’s heart dips.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just stands there in the doorway, his fingers curled loosely at his sides, his gaze fixed on you in silence. It’s not anger, not really. It’s something quieter, smaller. A weird ache in his chest.

You glance up at him, instantly noticing the shift in his expression. “Wonnie?” you say, closing the book. “Everything okay?” He forces a small smile, steps inside, and sits beside you. “Yeah,” he says, but his voice is too soft. Too careful. You study him, eyes narrowing slightly. “What’s wrong?” He hesitates, then exhales. “That’s Jay’s hoodie.”

You look down, startled. “Wait, seriously? I grabbed it from your closet, I thought-” “I know,” he says quickly, shaking his head. “It’s not your fault. I think our laundry got mixed again.” You frown, setting the book aside. “I’ll change-” “No, you don’t have to,” he says again, though his eyes betray him. “It’s not a big deal. I just didn’t expect it to bother me. I guess it did.”

Your heart squeezes a little. Jungwon, your ever-steady, gentle boyfriend, is actually jealous? You give him a small smile and lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re allowed to feel stuff, you know. Even things you don’t usually feel.” He doesn’t say anything, but his arms wrap around your waist and hold you tighter than usual.

A few minutes later, you reappear in his favorite gray hoodie, the one you always say smells like him. He looks up, and his face lights up with something warmer, more at peace. You climb into his lap, snuggling into his chest. “Better?” He kisses the top of your head, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “Much.”

Jungwon returned the hoodie to Jay a few days later, after washing it again, saying that it must have ended up in the wrong pile. Jay thanks him. Jungwon didn’t need to say anything or look at Jay weird because he knew your heart belonged to him, no matter whose shirt you accidentally end up wearing. 

~~~ Niki ~~~

Ni-ki has always had a cool, unfazed image. He’s the chill one, the youngest who knows how to keep his emotions in check. But behind closed doors, when it’s just the two of you, he’s anything but cold. He’s soft. A complete cuddlebug. Someone who craves your warmth, your touch, your presence. But he’s also a little territorial. Okay, a lot.

It comes from years of sharing everything, rooms, clothes, food, even sleep schedules. So now that he finally has things of his own, you being the most important one of all, he doesn’t want to share anymore.

So when he walks into the living room after practice, expecting to see you maybe scrolling on your phone or waiting for him with a snack and a movie ready to be played, what he doesn’t expect is to find you sitting on the couch right beside Heeseung. Too close. Laughing as you nudge his shoulder, fingers furiously tapping at the video game controller in your hand.

And to top it all off, you’re wearing a shirt. Not your own. Not Ni-ki’s. But Heeseung’s. He recognizes it immediately, the faded black lettering on the sleeve, the loose fit, the color slightly too pale to be his. Heeseung’s. And you’re wearing it while sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with him doing the exact thing you and Ni-ki usually do together.

Two things. Two reasons. Two flames to fuel the sudden flare of jealousy in his chest. His jaw clenches. He doesn’t say anything until the game ends, until Heeseung celebrates his win and you laugh beside him, clueless to the way Ni-ki’s eyes are locked on you, burning.

Without a word, Ni-ki steps forward, grabs your hand, and pulls you up from the couch. “Come with me.” You barely manage a surprised “Wait-Ni-ki?” before he’s guiding, no, dragging, you down the hallway and into his room, the door clicking shut behind you.

You turn to face him, breath a little caught, and you can’t deny how hot he looks right now, his brows furrowed, eyes dark, the tension rolling off him in waves. You open your mouth to speak but he doesn’t give you the chance. He presses you back against the door, one hand planted firmly beside your head. The other trails lightly down the fabric of the shirt you’re wearing, thumb tugging at the hem.

He considers saying something. Considers cutting the shirt right off you. But he doesn’t. Instead, his voice comes out low, and a little rough. “I don’t like sharing.” You blink. “The shirt? I’m sorry, I should’ve-” He cuts you off. “No. Not just the shirt, even if it’s his shirt and not mine,”

He exhales through his nose, finally letting himself look vulnerable. “I don’t like sharing you,” he says quietly. “Not with him. Not with anyone. Especially not like that.” Your heart softens instantly. It’s not just the shirt. It’s the game. The laughs. The attention.

You reach up, brushing your fingers through his hair. “Ni-ki, baby you don’t have to share me. I’m yours, you know that.” He still looks pouty, but some of the tension melts from his shoulders. “Then wear my shirt. Play games with me.” You smile and lean up to kiss him, slow and gentle. “Fine. But only if you let me win.” He pulls back, smirking now. “Not a chance.”

[colossrat]

reporter: do you support immigration?

marvel, caught off guard: ducks? or birds in general?

reporter: no. i mean illegal immigrants

marvel, now thinking about ducks carrying drugs: hmmm define illegal immigrants

reporter: An "illegal immigrant" is a person who enters or resides in a country without the necessary documents or who violates the immigration laws of that country

marvel: oh... you should ask superman that one, it would be really funny

[lightfin]

After a hard long day, even as the Trollhunter, sometime’s you need that little bit of escapism to feel that touch brighter.

Fun fact! just as Gun Robot is Toby’s favourite film, Jim’s is his worlds Httyd. Evidence from the picture of toothless on the home page of his laptop at the end of episode one!

So I head-cannon he listens to the music when he has had a particularly harsh day, and needs to take his mind elsewhere.

This is cannon in my mind.

And I love it!

[batfsm]

Why does this make more sense than calling Tim that?

(I’ve seen fics where Duckie/Ducky is Tim’s nickname but this is better.)

Another headcannon:

Jason calls Dick "Duckie" from time to time. Some people think it's a mock of Nightwing's eagle symbol.

But the truth is, one day they were texting and Jason sent "Duckie" instead of "Dickie", and Dick liked the nickname so much that convinced Jason to call him like that. Dick's contact in Jason's phone is "Duckie 🦆"

[hatethysinner]

Papa remmick oh lord my heart…more hcs with an older daughter maybe??? Like tween-teen age

ᴘᴀᴘᴀ!ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ ᴘᴛ. 2

ᴀ/ɴ: PART 2 OF MY 3-PART PAPA!REMMICK SERIES WOOHOO (part 1 here)! I love writing headcanons so please don't stop requesting them y'all, whether they're more of this or something else. I don't have many more ideas in the tank but I'm gonna work my ass off on that third part!

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Just more of the most sickly sweet papa!remmick headcanons, tween edition! Minor exploration of hybrid physiology too, but nothing crazy.

she, just like everybody else, can not get a lie past this man. ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ can literally hear heartbeats, so he'll simply listen to her make up a whole story to explain something and once she's done he'll simply say:

“ya wanna try it again with the truth this time?”

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ was patient zero of the sassy man apocalypse. don't let her try to backtalk him cause he will shut it down with EASE.

speaking of, if she ever says “you just don’t get it, papa,” ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ will turn around and unload a millennium's worth of “getting it”. after the first few times of an hour long lecture, she just stopped saying it. yapper ass 😭.

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ still does her hair every sunday morning. she groans about it now, tells him it takes too long and all that jazz. but she never once asks him to stop, and he still ends it with three kisses and compliments galore.

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ takes every single one of her tweenhood rants very seriously. plot holes in her favorite book? he's nodding along. complaints about homework? arms folded and agreeing with every critique. she's wrong more than half the time, but he just loves hearing her talk.

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ is THAT parent who checks to see if she's sleeping multiple times a night. he's literally the warioware mom but if the game was entirely rigged and not winnable.

“mmhmm. i see them eyes movin’. hand me the book, baby.” “i was just-” “you was just stallin’. now gimme. ain’t no story better than sleep.”

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ still sings to her, and now she sings back. she's way better, but he'll never admit it. they've been getting really into this one irish jig recently...

when she gets a compliment, she always turns to ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ first.

“they said my dress was pretty!” “i told you it was. papa always knows.”

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ keeps a running mental list of the little things she likes. favorites snacks, books, clothes, colors. updates it daily, and he will turn the house upside down if her preferences change.

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ wakes her up soft, always. even when they're in a rush, he will never wake her up with anything but a kiss to the forehead and a gravely “mornin’, baby girl.”

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ starts planning for her birthday at least six months in advance. theme ideas, guest lists, menus, gifts, he's got everything in a secret folder. and when the big day comes, the whole house transforms overnight. do not come out of your room while he's preparing though because his ass will be looking like a madman.

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ spoils his daughter constantly. new shoes? hers. favorite dessert? made fresh. saw something cute in the window a week ago? already wrapped and waiting. but she never expects it and always, ALWAYS, thanks him and gives him the biggest hug. he gets real close to crying every single time. HE'S A SENTIMENTAL MAN OKAY?!

“thank you, papa,” “you’re welcome, baby. i’d give you the world if i could.”

speaking of sentimental, ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ's the type of dad who says “my girl’s growing up” EVERY OTHER DAY. she could drink a glass of water and he'll start with his misty-eyed reminiscing about how he used to hold her in his arms. it always makes her giggle.

she sleeps exactly like him. dead silent, barely breathing, sprawled in weird poses. ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ thinks its adorable.

when her fangs started to come in, ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ lost his mind. walked around the house beaming and asked her to smile a million times that day. he still gets a kick out of it.

“that’s my girl, look at them teeth! ain’t she perfect?”

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ's explanation for why his reflection is always funny in the mirror has stayed the same for years.

“papa’s just shy.”

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ's teaching her gaelic. he just is. in his eyes, she's going to revive the “dead” language.

they have a million inside jokes between each other. they'll say the most random shit and have each other in stitches, and nobody else will ever get it.

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ does not play about school picture day. her clothes are ironed out the night before, her hair is always done, and he walks her to school personally while plucking out every speck of dust that dares to threaten his baby's look. and yes, he has every school picture framed in chronological order.

the one and only time she called herself ugly, ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ sat her down, looked her dead in the eyes and said:

“don’t you ever lie like that again, baby. you’re the sun. you hear me? the sun.”

ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ makes her lunch every single day, and best believe there's a handwritten note in perfect cursive tucked inside, with a doodle on the back. each one is unique and incredibly heartfelt. sometimes, she’ll write a note back.

and every night, guess where ʀᴇᴍᴍɪᴄᴋ is? kneeling at her bed and asking the same question he's asked since she was still in his arms.

“ya know who loves ya?” “you do, papa.” “damn right i do.” same as always. hand over heart. eyes full of stars.

[p1girlfriend]

koala mode. - lewis hamilton x younger!reader.🐨

content: reader is younger than Lewis (both legal adults), fluff, clingy behavior, domestic sweetness, playful teasing, age gap mentioned softly, no angst just love.

Lewis calls it your “koala mode.” You call it “just being in love.”

It starts with the mornings. Or more like: the mornings where you absolutely refuse to get out of bed unless you’re stuck to him like Velcro.

“Babe,” he laughs softly, voice still scratchy from sleep, trying to sit up while your arm clutches tighter around his waist. “You’re strangling me.” “I’m cuddling you,” you murmur, eyes closed and nose buried in the crook of his neck. “There’s a difference.”

He sighs, tilting his head down to kiss your hair. “Koala mode?” You nod against his shoulder. “Koala mode.”

The thing is, you’re both like this. He's no better. He literally FaceTimes you from every airport gate. He sends you voice notes that are just “I miss you already” twenty-five minutes after you’ve left the house.

And when he’s home, he's always touching you — hand on your thigh during lunch, fingers grazing your back while you do your skincare, chin resting on your shoulder while you pick what series to watch next. He says he’s just chilling. You know better.

“You’re such a koala,” you whisper one night as you lie half on top of him on the couch, your cheek against his chest, his hand tracing lazy circles on your spine.

Lewis chuckles, lips brushing your forehead. “You started this koala thing,” he says. “I’m just adapting to your wildlife ecosystem.”

You lift your head. “So I’m the tree and you’re the clingy one now?” “I’m the tree? Girl, you literally hung onto me while I tried to brush my teeth this morning.” You grin. “Clingy together. That’s the deal.” “That’s the dream,” he corrects. “A little clingy koala paradise.”

It becomes a running joke between the two of you. You buy matching koala slippers. He gets you a mug that says ‘This Koala Needs Cuddles’. You get him a hoodie with a cartoon koala holding a coffee that says ‘Barely Awake, Hug Me’.

And anytime someone (a teammate, your friend, the internet) says anything about the age gap, Lewis just wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulls you into him, and goes, “Let me be clingy in peace. She’s my comfort koala.”

And when he’s on the podium, and the cameras catch him with a silly grin as he points toward you in the crowd, he mouths: “That one. That’s my koala.”

©p1girlfriend

[lucychanart]

cassian's dream, bye🚶🏻‍♀️‍➡️💜

full on patreon :3

[mascarpony]

simon riley

"Baby," he murmured, voice hoarse with sleep. His nose nuzzled the nape of her neck as he tightened his arms around her waist. "Wake up. It's seven already." She stirred with a groan, yawning before mumbling incoherently.

"Three more minutes, babe…" Her head sank deeper into the pillow, ignoring the way Simon's body pressed against her backside.

She grumbled, swatting at his hands—already under his shirt that she was wearing, lazily cupping her breasts. She side-eyed him from the corner of her eyes, catching the way his body shook with laughter.

"I'm going to revoke your morning kisses privilege if you don’t stop doing that," she warned, her voice stern but soft, no real bite behind the threat.

Simon held his hands up in mock surrender.

"Alright, my queen. Wouldn’t want to lose morning kiss privileges. Not when I’ve got work to get through."

She smirked, turning toward him slightly to cup his face and press a soft kiss to his lips. Murmuring against them, she whispered,

"That's what I thought."

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Random Thought: Bucky Barnes

Extra Sensitive

It had always been embarrassing ever since Bucky had gotten back to his normal life-and that was while he was alone…it would be downright humiliating if she saw it!

Ever since being back to a relatively normal life, Bucky had been trying to get back to himself though he quickly realized his dating life would never be what it once was.

Thankfully he found Y/n.

Y/n was a friend of Pepper’s and she introduced them at a party that Tony was throwing. Bucky had stumbled upon her an hour later out on the balcony alone and he came to find that she hated crowds just like he did. In fact they had quite a bit in common, they were both introverts, they loved to read (Y/n recommending him titles from this century and Bucky recommending her titles from last century), they were also both huge nerds. Their first date had been spending the day in the Avengers compound binging the Lord of the Rings movies after Bucky had admitted he’d read the Hobbit back when it was first published.

He had to give Y/n credit, she knew exactly who he was and she never once judged him in any way-in fact she had argued with not just him but several others about him being a good person-going so far as throwing hands with multiple different SHIELD agents as well as people that worked at the Avengers compound.

The embarrassing problem in their relationship presents itself once he gets into the bedroom. He spent a lot of his time now a days with Y/n on his mind and his fist around his cock-which was the issue-every time he touches himself for more than a few seconds he is jizzing like crazy. He didn’t know how to make it stop-and no matter how hard he tried or what he pictured-he was still cumming all over himself.

The first time they were together he tried very hard not to quickly cum and ruin the moment but Y/n notices quickly.

‘Are you okay?’ She asked, stopping her movements where she straddled his hips with her hands on his abs, his cock buried in her tight hole-the tightest he believes he’s ever felt-having to bite his tongue up to this point to not finish inside her instantly only having been in her for 12 second at that point.

‘I…’ he sighed heavily, looking up at her and seeing soft, understanding eyes. His girl was a sweet, gentle soul and he knew that she wouldn’t judge him, he just didn’t want to ruin their first time in bed. ‘I’m…ever since I got out of Hydra I’ve had a problem…I’m Overly sensitive?’

She tilted her head to the side curiously. ‘That doesn’t sound like a problem Bucky-just enjoy it-‘

‘N-No, Y/n…I’m too sensitive…one wrong touch and I’m cumming…everywhere…it’s another result of the serum I guess, I cum…a lot-like a lot! And often…I just don’t want to finish too fast and disappoint you.’ He closed his eyes with a sigh, clearly ashamed of himself.

She didn’t look at all upset, her eyes were still soft as she looked down at him. ‘Bucky, you could never disappoint me…how long is your recovery time?’ Now it was his turn to tilt his head questioningly. ‘How long after you cum are you ready to go again?’

‘Oh! Immediately, I don’t have to wait but I need to get off at least 8 or 9 time before I’m-Oh Fuck!’ He cried out as Y/n rocked her hips forward and began riding him again and as he wasn’t prepared for it at all, he came almost immediately. ‘Oh God…I’m-‘

‘Don’t ever apologize! You are a miracle!’ Y/n breathed, grabbing his shoulders and holding onto him as she rode him faster.

‘I-I came inside you! I-‘

‘I’m on birth control Bucky, you can cum in me as much as you want to.’ His eyes widened before his smile grew as wide as the Grinch before he suddenly lunged up and flipped her over onto her back, thrusting his hips up into her at a near inhuman pace. ‘Oh God! Fuck! Bucky!’

‘C-Call me солдат.’ Her eyes widened in surprise, instantly needing to double check as she didn’t want anything to trigger him. (Soldier)

‘Are you sure-‘

‘Just while I fuck you like this, only like this!’ He insisted, lifting her up to wrap her legs around his waist and thrust up into her almost painfully.

‘Oh God! солдат!’ (Soldier)

‘Fuck-‘ he grunted, thrusting up deep inside of her-his body going stiff as he came again, painting her insides with his cum as deeply inside of her as he could. ‘You feel so fucking good…’ he pulled out of her hole, watching for a moment as his cum dripped out of her and down her slit to her ass. ‘Next time I want you to pretend to be my nurse. Taking care of my wounds before using me to take care of your needs. God you’d be such a hot nurse! Fucking Hell!’

‘I think I could definitely find a nurses outfit for that.’ She smirked, Buckys head falling back as he moaned, thinking about his time as a Soldier before Hydra, picturing Y/n as a nurse treating his wounds before yanking his pants off and taking care of her own needs by riding his cock. Once again his cock felt overly sensitive as he felt it twitch before he was cumming, filling her up all over again.

‘Fuck!’ He grabbed Y/n’s hips, turning her over roughly and thrusting his cock down into her hole, pushing her upper body down into the bed. As he did he was presented with her ass sticking up while he rocked into her body, her ass cheeks spreading apart and jiggling as he thrust into her body. He felt his cock twitch again at the thought of him shoving himself into her asshole. ‘Oh Fuck!’ He cursed, thrusting harder down into her body and hearing her cry out as her pussy clamped down hard on him, his Princess cumming on his cock. ‘Oh God…I’ve never felt anything like that before-I’ve felt girls cum before but everything is…it’s so much now…Fuck! God I fucking love you!’ He swore as her body went slack in his grip and he knew she needed a break. ‘Sleep for a while, you’re going to need all the rest you can get because I’m going to destroy this pussy when you wake up.’ He chuckled, pulling out of her and lifting her to lay her down on his chest, holding her tightly when she snuggled into him as if afraid to lose her…and maybe he was.

She was the first good thing that Bucky had had in a long time and he was terrified that she might wake up one day and realize that he’s a monster and she has no clue why she’s with him-or Gods forbid someone will hurt her to get to him. Bucky knew though that he would never let anyone hurt the woman that he loves more than anything else in the world.

He loves her so much and he will never let her go.

Bucky B. Masterlist

I want to know if I should do another Random Thought or even just a whole fic for Bucky’s little fantasy about a nurse that treats his wounds before riding his cock since she’s surrounded by soldiers constantly but unable to satisfy her needs. Also should the fic or Random Thought be a fantasy? Should it be Bucky and his girlfriend role-playing or should it be real? Bucky has been injured in combat and he’s treated by doctors before a nurse attends to him and actually uses him for her own pleasure-and if that’s is the choice should it be Yandere or not?

Please give me your opinions because I very much want to write this and I’m leaning towards the Yandere situation?

[ghostoficarussideblog]

Warrior Cats? NAWWHH

Warrior WOLVES! Kris def read it, Ravenpaw was their fav. Now they howl. :D

Kris Dreemurr howling vocal stim compilation

[isthismoonie]

something something fireboy.

[nightplvmes]

breakfast

caleb one shot (love and deepspace) birthday special pt 1 (fluff ver) ⋆｡° | caleb had brought you breakfast in bed many times but this time you decided it was your turn… and part of his birthday surprise ⋆｡° | pairing : caleb x fem!reader ⋆｡° | word count : 1.3k (1329) likes and reblogs are appreciated!! :) pt 2 smut ver ★ masterlist here

you weren't usually a person who woke up early. in fact, it was one of the things you hated the most because you were tired all day long, and then it seemed almost impossible to continue with all the things you had to do during the day. but that day had been the exception.

you had woken up early and slipped out of bed, taking great care not to wake your boyfriend. he seemed to have some kind of sixth sense that detected when you had left his side. somehow, you had managed not to wake him up and had turned off his alarm to let him sleep a few more hours. you had managed to get him the day off, after had several calls with people you didn't know but apparently were above him at work.

you had breakfast in bed planned. he had done the same for you before… actually, he had done it more than once, even though it wasn't your birthday. you didn't mind doing the same for him at all, besides, you had some surprises in mind for that night. you had cooked everything yourself and had even taken the time to make the orange juice yourself.

it was about an hour later when you finished arranging the things on the tray and to be honest, you were proud of yourself. you had never imagined putting so much effort into something for someone else, and yet, it made you happy to do even the smallest detail for Caleb. you remained silent for a few seconds, trying to organize your thoughts and figure out how you would do everything you had in mind. you had to find an excuse to get him out of the house for at least half an hour.

you sighed and decided you would fix that in a couple of hours. you took the tray and walked to the bedroom, walking slowly to avoid spilling the juice and the glass of water on the tray. you tiptoed to the bedroom and pushed the door open with your hip as you walked slowly, still holding the tray. Caleb was still sleeping peacefully. he wasn't wearing a shirt because, according to him, he slept more comfortably that way, but a few weeks ago, you had come to the conclusion he just did it because he liked the way you ran your fingers over his chest before sleeping.

you placed the tray on your side of the bed, making sure it wouldn't fall even if Caleb stirred and took all the sheets with it. you didn't want to wake him yet; he looked so peaceful. you had that perfect view of his back that made you want to kiss his skin and lie on top of him.

it took you several seconds to return to reality and approach him. your hands ran down his back, to his shoulders, where you lightly tapped him with your fingertips to wake him. "Caleb? wake up…" you nervously bit your lower lip when you watched him begin to stir in the sheets.

Caleb turned and rubbed his eyes. it took him a couple of seconds to realize what was happening around him; he was too sleepy. he ran his hands through his hair in an attempt to comb it, then turned to look out the window. it was sunny outside, and usually when he woke up, it was still quite early and just beginning to dawn.

"what time is it?" his sleepy voice made you smile, but you quickly went into a state of alert when you noticed his face change from sleepy to alarmed. you knew he was about to get up because of the time, and you placed your hands on his chest before he made a sudden movement.

"it's okay. I turned off your alarm," you replied, taking a seat next to him. "it's ten o'clock." Caleb opened his eyes in surprise. he would never admit he was mad at you, although at that moment you couldn't tell if he was angry or not, maybe a little surprised. "before you get upset… I asked for the day off, for you, I mean. that's why I turned off your alarm and…" you were silent for a few seconds. that certainly wasn't what you had in mind when you made breakfast for your boyfriend a couple of hours ago. you looked over at the tray, and Caleb repeated your action almost immediately. "I made breakfast for you. breakfast in bed."

suddenly, confidence and excitement returned to you. you smiled as you stood up, walked around the bed, and picked up the tray again. Caleb still looked visibly confused, probably because he was too sleepy. he shifted in the sheets and sat on the mattress, leaning his back against the wall behind him. "you made breakfast for me? you didn't have to do this."

Caleb liked cooking for you. although you were also a good cook, it wasn't your favorite activity because of the many smells that mixed in the air, and you ended up losing your appetite. on the other hand, Caleb liked seeing the satisfied smile when you liked something he cooked.

"it's your birthday. I wanted to do something." you shrugged as you placed the tray on his lap. "happy birthday, by the way." you smiled, leaning down to kiss his lips, but he leaned down to deepen the kiss before you pulled away.

his hand slid to the back of your neck to hold you in place, making you gasp into his mouth. Caleb abruptly pulled away from you, making you crave more of his lips.

it took you a few seconds to come back to reality; you could still taste his mouth on your lips. "umm… I have something in mind. we can do whatever you want. the party is on saturday, but I have a surprise for you tonight." you smiled excitedly, due to your own schedule. you'd never planned anything for a boyfriend on his birthday before, except for Caleb, and he could tell you got more excited every year.

you'd planned a surprise party for him a few days later, but it wasn't a surprise anymore when he found some of the things you'd written on a list, and you felt compelled to explain what was going on.

"can't we just stay in bed all day?" his lips slid down to your cheek, placing a kiss on his warm skin.

you giggled but shook your head, although staying in bed all day didn't sound like a completely bad thing either. "not yet. you have to eat breakfast first, and I have some things to do, but I'll be back, and we'll be in bed until late."

he nodded, but you didn't move away. you felt like you should take that moment to get away from him and do everything on your to-do list before Caleb dragged you back into bed. you leaned in to kiss his lips one last time and felt one of his arms wrap around you, about to pull you closer, and you knew if you let him, things would escalate quickly, so you pulled away without warning.

"eat your breakfast. I'll be back in a few." you quickly got up, moving away from him and took a few steps back.

finally, you turned to leave the room. you could feel your heart pounding; for some reason, you were still nervous from that kiss. how did he still make you nervous after all these years?

you still had to wrap the gift you'd bought for him… and another gift you had in mind, too. but for that, you needed an excuse to get him out of the house for at least half an hour.

you sighed as you started down the stairs, trying to think of a way to get him out of the house for a while. otherwise, your surprise would be ruined.