#(they bought the black cap)

[whataboutyouisamascot]

Kind of warm weather means it's time to break out the "dad who's into metalcore and vaguely goth" looks

[champagnesprays]

i’m on my way to the austrian gp, i so cannot wait, i think i’m gonna throw up from excitement

[servantleverslutdrop]

I feel like dress shoes are either glued together shit leather garbage or absolutely unreasonably priced, with barely any inbetween

[laceyfaeryy]

MDNI 18+

soft lover boy simon riley who is absolutely obsessed with his little bimbo birdie.

౨ৎ⠀ׄ⠀. ━ “big scary boyfriend simon riley” “guard dog simon riley” what about utterly pathetic soft lover boy simon riley who literally walks around with the biggest puppy eyes for you??

cw: age gap (legal), fluff, simon is a complete softie, oral (f) receiving, simon cums in his pants, inspired by @cinnamongrl2006

simon riley who listened just intently to your questions even if they were a little silly, not caring that he had to re explain everything ten times.

“so like, what does this do?” your perfectly manicured nails disgusting with the small knife that you found in his military bag. “use that for my missions, extra protection,” his strong arms wrapped around you as you stared at the knife like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

“but like, why use knives when you have a gun?”

“sometimes i get disarmed, so i need to be prepared.”

you stared blankly, blinking at him before your gaze drifted down. “but you have two arms, so you haven’t been disarmed?” your question genuine as a low chuckle escaped his lips.

“yes luvie, i do have two arms.”

simon who will be at your feet the moment you asked for him.

“si?” your voice soft as you looked around your shared apartment, simon’s footsteps immediately picking up after hearing your voice. “what’s wrong luvie?” his tone soft before gently drifting down to your feet, where you were struggling to put on your heels. “help me?” your big doe eyes staring at him, soft smile cracking through his rugged face. without a response he lifted your foot up, gently placing your heel, making sure it was fit snuggly in. his large hand gently rubbed against your ankle, planting a kiss at your knee.

and of course he carried you in his arms after the function, your drunken giggles filling up the empty streets whilst he grinned like an idiot.

simon riley who indulged in your nightly routines, allowing you to put a face mask and a your pink fluffy head ban on with a bow.

“need to make sure you age well si, don’t want you to be all wrinkly when i’m still going to be hot and young,” you teased as you gently applied the sheet face mask on him.

simon was never one to indulge in skincare, he would often just splash water on his face and call it a day. the moment you found out you made him his own personal skincare routine, the products comically small in his hands as you explained them.

“this one helps with fine lines and wrinkles,” you rambled as you held a small shiny bottle, they all looked the same to him but he listened regardless. “you think i have wrinkles?”

simon riley who would have his whole entire camera roll dedicated to you.

“yer fuckin’ obsessed with that girl,” his captain teased as simon’s phone lit up from your spam of texts, his wallpaper a photo of you with the biggest and cheesiest grin.

“jus’ say you’re jealous cap,” simon grunted as he immediately grabbed his phone, his thick fingers moving along swiftly to respond. it was no secret in the base that simon was utterly smitten with you, responding to your calls and texts even in the most inconvenient times.

not to mention the amount of times he had to upgrade his phone simply because he had no storage left, and he couldn’t bring himself to delete the photos of you.

the distance between the two of you didn’t waved his commitment, even if he was in the base and you were back at home he would carry a little bit of you. it first started off as a small pink keychain that dangled from his vest, then a necklace with your into. he even wore a custom balaclava mask that you bought, with a pink skull instead of a black one. despite the relentless teasing from his captain and everyone else at the base he didn’t care.

simon treated having sex with you as a sacred ritual, worshipping every inch of your body as if he didn’t deserve to see you in your most vulnerable state.

“fuckin’ gorgeous luvie,” his voice soft and tended as he peppered your body with kisses, his scarred hamada soft and gentle unlike the usual violence they were used to.

he didnt care about his own pleasure, solely focusing on you, because if you felt good, so did he.

he loved worshipping you on his knees, his tongue lapping around your creamy pussy as his eyes almost rolled back from the smell of your arousal. “taste so fuckin’ good luvie, like a five star meal.” simon took his sweet time, making sure every part of your body received attention and love. his large hands gently rubbing your inner thighs to smooth your trembles as you came over and over again.

oh, and he would cum in his pants just from eating you out. his hips would shake involuntarily before spurting all over his boxers.

tag list: @happysmappy @mydickishuge560 @dolli333 @madebyyicarus @l-otti @butlerslut @vampwifee @i-wanabe-yours @bluebarrybubblez @cinnamongrl2006 @akkahelenaa @yanfeiiiiii @actualpoppy @lilyalone @other-fandoms-reblogs @goonette6969 @doubledizzy22

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ You test out a new lipstick

(Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Tartaglia)

Tw: smooches! Shield your eyes!

Oh, would you look at that, you bought a new lipstick. You just need to test whether it wears down quickly or leaves any mark. 

✧ Pierro is in a haste. You blurt out that you need a new lipstick once, and the next thing you know, he purchases several high-quality ones for you. Offering you swatches of colors, makeup removers, different shades, and lipstick textures, he observes with analytical admiration as you sit in front of a mirror and apply the lipstick carefully. 

One last step is missing – to try its imprint. The Jester is ready to reach for a napkin to let you try. But you only smiled. Before he can comprehend, your hand reaches to turn his head and gently guides him closer to your lips until you sweetly capture his. It’s not often that The Jester experiences a complete blank out, but when you deliberately trace your lips across his skin and start preparing his face with kisses, how else is he supposed to react? Hold in his hitched breaths? Not deepen the kisses to relish the ambrosia of your lips?

Suffice it to say, you are proud of the imprints on his pale skin. He seems even prouder, wearing them like a badge of honor, despite his stoic appearance.

✧ You asked Il Capitano to evaluate the new shade of lipstick you bought. Like any loving partner, the honorable Captain stated honestly that any hue suits you elegantly. Even if his knowledge of cosmetics is minimal, he felt delighted and proud of your looks.  

But that wasn’t the issue. Now you were standing in front of him, smiling menacingly.  

“What is it, my treasure?”  

You stepped closer.  

“Dear…?”  

You stepped even closer. Oh no, thought the Captain, he’s in danger. His pleas for reason and mercy went unheard. Instead, he faced a bigger battle—a battle that left his helmet not with scratches but with various imprints of your kisses. You stood triumphantly, happy with your lipstick and the numerous marks on his helmet and neck. 

Il Capitano lost the battle that day. 

✧ At last, Il Dottore mused to himself, the perfect hue of lipstick designed scientifically for you. You voiced your issue in finding a suitable shade of makeup for yourself, hence you asked none other than your beloved to find a logical solution. So he took matters into his own hands to find the best chemical solution and accurately create the best shade to match your skin. 

Naturally, it was a success. With his gloves stained in various colorful substances, he proudly handed you a slender tube with a delicate black cap from the table as if it were a casual concoction he could make on a whimsy. Hence, you thanked him and blithely applied it on the spot.

“Dottore, it turned out magnificently!” – you said as you looked into the reflection of your face. But when you turned to look at him, Dottore’s complexion went vaguely blank. “Hm, what is it? Isn't it good? You made it matte, too.” 

He silently stepped forward; even behind his black mask, you could sense his full attention zooming on the beauty of your lips. 

"Well, true... I formulated it to be stain-proof, so it won't smudge as you go about your day. However," - he hummed, his hand cupping your jawline warmly. "Every product requires assiduous testing. We could conduct a few tests of our own to ensure its performance. If I may," 

Of course, he would test it personally. Of course, he then captures your lips in a kiss, his hand on the back of your head, his touch an ardent mix of passion and desire. He explores your mouth, his tongue caressing yours with a fervor, wanting to test how long the lipstick will last under the pressure of his kisses. You should've expected this, as his other hand encloses around you to press you flush against him. 

"Ah... interesting. It's held up quite well. There's no transfer on your skin or mine, but I do think further testing is necessary."

“Enough, enough! That’s plenty of testing from you!” 

✧ Scaramouche dislikes shopping. It’s a hassle, truly. You requested him to accompany you on a leisurely stroll, oblivious of your trap to drag him to some quick shopping. Except this quick shopping turned into a full-blown shopping spree. The question is: was he here to accompany you or to pull you away from wasting all your Mora on fleeting indulgences?

“No, you don't need any more clothes. You have plenty of unworn ones.”

“No, we don't need any more plushies, your bed is already littered with them.”

“And no, you already had some snacks on the way here. Stop buying more!”

You couldn't escape his stern reminders, even if they were practical. However, there was still one shop you left as an ace up your sleeves. Before finishing today's trip, you encouraged The Balladeer to join you in cosmetics shopping. Your innocent smile spoke promises of letting him choose your new lipstick color if he so desired, and the allure of it caused him to halt. 

“... Me? Why must I choose? Can't you pick a simple color and call it a day, huh?” - Scaramouche feigned annoyance when, in reality, he quickly grabbed your arm and led you hastily to the boutique. “We'll quickly buy one, but don't get any ideas that we're staying here for any longer.”

Poor Harbinger; he didn't have to lie to himself so cruelly. The two of you stayed in the boutique for a long while, not because you were indecisive, but because Scaramouche suddenly took the matters with utter seriousness. Should he suggest a carnelian shade? It would match with his own red eyeshade. Or perhaps a darker one would suit your complexion? Especially if you decided to leave contrasting lipstick imprints all over his porcelain skin- 

Scaramouche shook his head. Your voice interrupted his train of thought.

“Um… Scara, sweetie? Could we decide already? We spent the whole day in this shop.”

“We'll buy all of them, then,” - he held up your face, his full focus on you as you timidly averted your gaze. “Here. Now let me help you apply it.” 

✧ Pantalone sat behind his desk, fingers intertwined thoughtfully. Silver glasses cast a shadow upon his already darkened gaze. His expression, unfortunately, was far from pleased. 

“L-lord Harbinger Regrator,” – the Fatui subordinate uttered. “It is with utmost sorrow that I must inform you that- that the cosmetologists you hired have not finished their work. They are still in the process of creating the products you requested.” 

The silence of the office was deafening. The Harbinger granted no mercy with his prolonged pause.

“... I commission the best cosmetologist in all of Teyvat, and they still dare to waste my Mora and time? Is this some frivolous matter for them?” - The Harbinger's hands sternly pressed against the table, his voice raised “My beloved requested a new lipstick! They deserve the best of the best, as soon as possible!” 

“Uh, honey… I am still here in the room.” - your voice interjected awkwardly. Indeed, it's true; you are sitting nearby, blinking in confusion. You waved at the Fatui subordinate to take it easy, signaling sympathetically that your partner was having another one of his ambitious episodes. 

“Honey, my love, this is no fleeting matter! I wanted you to get the highest, custom-made quality for cosmetics. You rarely ask for anything, but when you do, I can't just let you down!” 

“It's just lipstick…! I didn't even say what color or kind I wanted.”

“And that's precisely why you shall get all of them. You there,” - he signaled back to the subordinate swiftly. “Quick, send the letters to those cosmetic chemists to hurry up if they want to make themselves worth the Mora. Delays are not negotiable.”

With the Fatui worker scurrying away in a hurry, Pantalone sighed deeply before plopping down beside you on the sofa of his office. You patted his back, amused by his sudden precedence over something so mundane. 

“There, there, Pantalone. You know it's nothing urgent. It's just lipstick.”

“Not any lipstick. Your lipstick, darling! I need to see you don the most dazzling color on your lips.” He turned to gently trace his thumb across your jawline, his voice softening. “...The lips that should be showering me with kisses and leaving lipstick prints on my skin.”

You laughed heartily – “Oh, so that's what it's all about? You know, makeup or no makeup, I can still kiss y-”

You didn't register how The Harbinger's head bowed lowly in reverence. “I would pay you any amount of Mora for you to do so.” 

Pantalone truly knows how to blow up over the most bizarre things. Either way, as the weeks passed, the newly ordered cosmetics did arrive as instructed. How did people know? Because Pantalone didn’t shy away from flaunting the traces of your delicate lips on his neck and blouse. A testament to stolen kisses and intimate moments behind closed doors. His triumphant grin says it all. 

✧ Your ever-observant boyfriend, Tartaglia, noticed you mulling something over by the mirror. You seemed in deep focus, a new item in your hands as you inspected your visage. You tried on a new lipstick! 

Childe, being the endearing goofball that he is, complimented your new purchase with delight. You appreciated his knack for noticing even the smallest changes, even if you didn't directly tell him you tried on something new. All was well! 

Or was it? For beneath his easygoing smile, in the deepest recesses of his soul, Tartaglia was begging, crying, screaming. He wanted to hold your face in his palms and kiss you senseless. He wished to taste the sweetness of your lips until this adorable color of your lipstick was smeared on both of your faces. He wished to soak in the warmth of your pecks and kisses, dreaming for your touch to litter his face with imprints.  

Did he say all of that? Of course not. He kept beaming at you in adoration, his smile tender while his thoughts devouring. Yet, after days of wrestling with his unspoken desires, Childe devised a plan – a very, very subtle plan.

“Oh nooo,” - he lamented dramatically, leaning against the doorway with a hand draped theatrically over his forehead. “If only my beloved was here to bestow me some loving kisses, especially when they look so alluring in their new lipstick! If only!” 

You raised an eyebrow at Tartaglia’s shenanigans as if asking him: Really? What is this damsel in distress act? Nonetheless, luckily for the 11th, his oh-so-subtle hints hit the mark, because you happily cupped his cheeks and smooched them with fervor, feeling his warm skin under your lips as he chuckled.  

Needless to say, your lipstick didn’t stand a chance.

[toobytoobs]

Things I think Captain Marvel has done to make money (some are inspired by random posts I remember but can’t find)

Sells embarrassing photos of the JL to the younger superheroes

Sells kryptonite thrown at him to the Fawcett City black market where it’s bought and thrown at him again

Using his lightning to spell stuff out in the sky for other heroes anniversaries (price depends on the person paying)

YJ paid him to juggle all of them at once. Goes without saying it ended in disaster

His tooth was knocked out by Black Adam once and Billy sold it to Batman (Batman wanted to study Cap’s dna and Billy just went “money is money”)

Many of the sidekicks (current or former) have paid him to blow up their mentor’s mailbox with lightning and Billy, once again, went “money is money”

Took kids flying (for a fundraiser, but it still counts)

Paid to eat really hot peppers or anything difficult to eat in general

He did a little jig once for 20 bucks

[ijustwannabecool]

The Fastest Man Off Track

Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader

Summary... A rare day in the life of the four-time world champion, through the lens of family, legacy, and the quiet moments that matter most.

A/N: Enjoy reading! Have a beautiful day! Requests are open. If you like it please like, comment, and share. Happy reading you beautiful soul :)

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Max Verstappen didn’t care much for interviews.

He didn’t enjoy talking about himself, and he definitely didn’t enjoy the attention that came with being a four-time world champion. The world saw him as a machine — controlled, confident, untouchable behind the wheel. But outside of racing, he liked to be left alone. Preferably barefoot, in his garage, or at the kitchen table with you and Isa.

So when Vogue Netherlands requested a quiet feature — not about the wins, not about the titles, but about Max as a man — it took some convincing.

“They just want a ‘day in the life,’” you told him over coffee. “No red carpets. No stylists. Just… you.”

Max lifted a brow. “Why would anyone care about that?”

“Because they’ve seen Max Verstappen the racer,” you said softly, “but not Max Verstappen the dad. The collector. The man who drives Isa to preschool in a twenty-year-old Land Rover because ‘it has character.’”

He grunted.

“Max. They said they want to talk about your cars.”

That made him pause.

“They want to hear the stories behind them. What they meant. Not the specs — the memories.”

He still didn’t agree right away. But later that night, you caught him standing in the garage in his hoodie and socks, hands in his pockets, staring at the McLaren F1 like it had something to say back.

The team arrived mid-morning. Just three people — respectful, soft-spoken, Dutch. One camera. One microphone. No chaos.

They weren’t here for a spectacle.

Just a story.

You stayed inside with Isa while Max walked the garage floor with the crew, talking them through his collection. He didn’t brag. He wasn’t that kind of man. But when he pointed to certain cars, his voice changed — softer, quieter, like the memories were still warm.

“That one,” he said, nodding to a black 2002 Ferrari Enzo, “was the first car I ever bought just for myself. Not because it was rare or fast. Just because I loved how it looked. I didn’t even test drive it.”

He moved on. A silver Jaguar XJ220. A retired Red Bull RB16B, mounted on its own turntable. A Porsche GT3 RS with pink crayon stitching — your choice, back when he asked which color combo he should pick.

But it was the McLaren that made him stop.

“It never really felt like mine,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

The camera tilted.

“I bought it years ago. A dream car. Put it in the garage and thought, ‘Yeah. This is the one.’ But I never drove it. Never touched it.”

“Why not?” the interviewer asked.

Max smiled slightly. “Didn’t know then. But I do now.”

He turned toward the side door.

“It was waiting for her.”

Isa was already dressed — pink overalls and two pigtails that barely stayed in place. She clutched her little Verstappen cap in one hand and her bunny in the other.

“She’s ready,” you said with a grin. “She asked me to put on ‘garage shoes.’ I think she meant sneakers.”

When Max returned, Isa ran to him instantly, arms out, bunny swinging.

“You said I could show them my car!”

“And I keep my promises, don’t I?” he replied, scooping her up with ease. “Come on then, let’s go give them a tour.”

He carried her into the garage like a secret he was finally ready to share.

“This is the McLaren F1,” Max announced proudly, gesturing to the sapphire blue car with wide butterfly doors. “But Isa calls it…”

“My car!” she interrupted with a big grin, bunny now sitting where a racing helmet should be.

“Why is it hers?” the interviewer asked gently, camera still rolling.

Max looked at Isa.

“She was two and a half,” he said, “wandered in here one morning while I was working. Climbed straight into the driver’s seat. Said ‘this is my baby car.’ And I realized… it was.”

He chuckled softly.

“It didn’t feel like anything until she touched it. Now I can’t imagine it belonging to anyone else.”

The rest of the shoot unfolded naturally. Isa held the mic at one point. Max helped her wipe a pretend smudge off the Ferrari. You brought out lemon cake for the crew, and Isa insisted on giving everyone one “tiny piece” because that’s what you told her was polite.

And when the interviewer asked Max if he ever felt like his priorities had shifted, his answer was so simple, so him, it stopped the room.

“They haven’t shifted. They’ve landed.”

The article never mentioned Isa’s name. No photos of her were published. Just one shot: a wide photo of Max standing beside the McLaren, and in the background, barely in frame, a little girl in pink overalls placing a stuffed bunny on the passenger seat.

The caption read: “The fastest man alive, and the car that finally made him slow down.”

That night, after the team left and Isa fell asleep with her bunny tucked under her chin, Max sat on the edge of your shared bed, quietly rubbing at the crease between his brows.

“You alright?” you asked, brushing a hand over his shoulders.

“I let them see too much?”

You shook your head. “You let them see the best parts.”

He smiled, but it was small.

“You’re the best part,” you said, curling into him. “But she’s the fastest.”

Max chuckled, low and deep. “Definitely gets that from me.”

And you kissed him once, then again — and again — until his laugh faded into something softer.

Slower.

Right where he liked to be.

[duskidolsmut]

Blonde College Slut Fucked in Anal Gangbang

Shin Yuna is a college student living on the edge, a stunning blonde who uses her beauty and provocative attitude to dominate the campus. Known for manipulating others in exchange for favors, she plays a dangerous game of seduction and power, always coming out on top—or so she thinks. When a dorm party becomes the stage for a plot hatched by someone close to her, Yuna finds herself thrust into an abyss of pleasure and chaos that tests her limits. Between betrayals, forbidden desires, and brutal consequences, she finds that the control she once cherished may slip from her grasp. Now, with secrets lurking and hungry eyes following her, the campus will never be the same—and neither will Yuna.

Tags: Hardcore, Anal, Deepthroat, Creampie, Facial, Spanking, Slut, College Girl, Cheating, Cuckold, Big Dicks, Threesome+, Party, Dorm Room, Drunk, Stoned, Revenge Fuck, Public Humiliation, Screaming, Crying, Begging, Slutty, Broken, Cumslut, Virgin Anal, Forced, Aggressive, Dirty Talk, Cum Everywhere, Sweaty

W:

The sun was beating down on the college courtyard, but no one there seemed to care about the heat. Not when Yuna strutted past as if the world were her own private stage. At 1.70 m tall, her long legs cut through the air like knives, highlighted by a short black skirt that barely covered the bare essentials. The cropped top showed off her tiny waist, and the generous cleavage gave a teaser of what she knew everyone wanted to see. Her blonde hair, now straight and shiny, swayed with each step, and her large, slanted eyes seemed to be hunting prey in the crowd of college students. Her fair skin glowed as if she had stepped out of an Instagram filter, and her full lips, painted a shocking pink, curved in a little smile. 

Yuna wasn't just pretty — she was an admitted slut, the kind who knows the power she has and uses it without mercy. It wasn't about love or passion; for her, everything was a game of trade. A quick blowjob behind the library building? Sure, but only if the guy bought her a snack afterwards. A little help in the hallway bathroom? Great, as long as it was a little favor like "give me the answers to the test." She didn't give anything away for free, and the guys at college had already learned that — or at least they tried to learn, because Yuna was too good at stringing people along.

Today, she was in hunting mode. She stopped near a group of freshmen who were smoking e-cigarettes, leaning against a bench. The strawberry smell of the vape mixed with the sweat of the hot day, and the guys stopped talking the moment she arrived, their eyes glued to her like flies on honey.

"So, boys, how's your day going?" Yuna tossed her hair to the side, leaning her body just enough to let her cleavage speak for itself. Her voice was sweet, but with a tone of someone who was always in charge.

One of the guys, a skinny guy with a backwards cap named Riku, choked on his vape and coughed before answering:

— O-okay, Yuna. What about yours?

She laughed, a short, mocking sound, and took a step closer, almost touching him.

—It’s boring, you know? I need someone to cheer me up. — Her feline eyes roamed the group, stopping at each one as if assessing their potential. — Who here has something to offer me?

Another guy, Kenta, braver and with a piercing in his eyebrow, gave a crooked smile and lifted his chin.

—I have an energy drink in my backpack. I’ll give it to you if you… I don’t know, let me film you dancing a little.

Yuna arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms in a way that only highlighted her bust.

— An energy drink? Do you think I’m cheap, Kenta? — She giggled, but approached him, lightly brushing her shoulder against his chest. — Give me the energy drink and another twenty dollars and I'll dance for your camera. But just for a minute, okay, I'm not a free stripper.

Kenta hesitated, but her look — that mischievous glint that promised more than she was going to deliver — made him give in.

— Okay, okay, I'll pay! — He was already reaching for his wallet, his fingers shaking with anxiety.

— Good choice, kitty — Yuna winked, taking the energy drink from his hand and opening it with a snap. She took a slow sip, letting a drop run down the corner of her mouth just to tease, and wiped it with her finger while staring at the group. — So, where's my stage?

Riku, still a little dumbfounded, pointed to the bench.

— This is fine, right? Just... do it, Yuna.

She climbed up onto the bench with the agility of someone who had done it a thousand times, her skirt riding up dangerously as she moved her hips to a rhythm that didn't need music. The guys were drooling, Kenta already had his cell phone in his hand filming, and she laughed inside at how easy it was to dominate them. A minute later, she jumped down, reached for the money and pocketed the twenty dollars without even saying thank you.

— Thanks, guys. It was good, but I have other things to do. — She turned her back, already aiming at the next target in the courtyard, but not before throwing one last comment over her shoulder: — If you want something more… special, just bring something worth it, okay?

Later, in the hallway of the humanities building, she pressed a senior named Hiro against his locker. The guy was tall, with messy hair and an air of someone who thought he could take anyone to bed. Yuna knew he had a reputation as a player, but she also knew he had a new motorcycle — and she was dying to go for a ride.

“Hey, Hiro,” she purred, playing with the string on his sweatshirt. “I hear you’ve got a brand new Kawasaki. Take me for a ride?”

Hiro gave a smug smile, clearly thinking he was in control.

“It depends, Yuna. What can I get in return?”

She got closer, her chest almost touching his, and whispered in his ear:

— I'll make you cum so fast you'll think you're dreaming. But only after the ride, and you have to let me lead the way.

He laughed, but the sparkle in his eyes gave away that he was already hooked.

— Deal, you bitch. But you're not going to string me along, okay?

— Me? String me along? — Yuna patted his face, laughing. — Only if you don't do your part, handsome.

As she walked off down the hallway, Yuna was already thinking about her next move. She wasn't one to get attached, or to give anything away for free. Every touch, every promise, was a coin in her pocket or a favor up her sleeve. The campus was her playground, and the guys? Just pieces on the board.

Yuna was at the height of her reign on campus, but not everything was just a parade and exchanging favors with silly freshmen. There was a side of her that no one saw—a dirty little secret that she kept with a mischievous smile on her pink lips. This secret had a name: Hector. He was Lia's boyfriend, one of the few friends Yuna kept out of convenience. Lia was all proper, glasses, the kind of girl who thought the world revolved around fidelity and good grades. Little did she know that her boyfriend, a 6'1" guy with messy black hair and a burning gaze, was completely crazy about the blonde slut she called her friend.

Heitor and Yuna had started this thing a few weeks ago. He was different from the other guys she manipulated — he wasn't some dumb jerk who fell for it easily. No, Heitor had a fire in his eyes, a raw energy that made her heart race. He didn't ask for favors; he took what he wanted. And Yuna? She loved it. She loved the way he grabbed her, his big hands squeezing her thin waist or pulling her blond hair hard. He was aggressive, almost wild, and she, who was always in control, found herself moaning too loudly at those moments.

The two of them had a place: the bathrooms of an abandoned college block, a forgotten corner where the smell of mold and peeling paint mixed with the heat they exuded in the air. It was perfect — no one went there, and the risk of getting caught only made it all the more enjoyable. Today, Yuna was leaning against the wall of the main hallway, pretending to use her cell phone while she sent him a message:

— "Old bathroom, 3pm. Don't keep me waiting, you dog."

Heitor replied in two seconds:

— "I'm coming, you bitch. Better get ready."

She laughed to herself, putting her cell phone in the pocket of her short skirt. She passed Lia on the way, giving a quick wave and a "Hi, beautiful, see you in class!" while the poor girl smiled back, without suspecting anything. Yuna almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

When she arrived at the abandoned bathroom, the place was silent, only the sound of a dripping pipe echoing off the cracked walls. She barely had time to lean against the filthy sink before she heard his heavy footsteps. Heitor walked in, his black t-shirt stuck to his sweaty body — he had probably run to get there —, and his brown eyes were already fixed on her as if she were a piece of meat. — You came fast, huh — Yuna teased, crossing her arms to lift her bust in her tight top. — Do you miss me that much?

He didn't answer with words. In two steps, he was in front of her, one hand grabbing her wrist and the other already going up under her skirt, squeezing her thigh hard enough to leave a mark.

— Shut up, Yuna — he growled, his breath hot on her neck. — You've been teasing me all day, now take it.

She laughed, but the sound turned into a moan when he turned her back against the sink, pulling her blond hair with a jerk.

— That's it, Hector, show me what you've got — she said, her voice shaking with excitement. — But don't crush me too much, huh? I still have to show up in one piece later.

— In one piece? — He slapped her ass, the sound echoing in the empty bathroom. — You're going to leave here limping, you whore.

Yuna bit her lip, her feline eyes shining in the reflection of the broken mirror in front of her. She loved this brutality, the way he dominated her without asking for permission. It was the opposite of the guys she had been fooling around with — Hector didn't negotiate, didn't offer anything in return. He just took, and she let him, because, fuck, he was too good.

He pushed her against the sink, the cold metal hitting her waist as he ripped her panties with a single pull.

"That's what you want, right?" he murmured, already undoing his belt with one hand while the other held her neck. "To text me while I'm with Lia, driving me crazy…

"Of course, you idiot," Yuna retorted, arching her back towards him. "She doesn't give you that, does she? The good Lia doesn't even know where to put her hand." Hector laughed, a low, dangerous sound, and entered her hard, eliciting a scream from her that she tried to muffle with her hand.

“Tell me more about her,” he said, his movements aggressive, almost punishing. “It makes me even angrier.”

“She… oh, fuck… she thinks you’re a saint,” Yuna managed to say between moans, her nails scratching the sink. “While you’re here fucking me like an animal.”

He pulled her hair again, forcing her to look at the mirror.

“Look at your face, Yuna. That’s what you really are. A worthless slut.”

She smiled at her reflection, her lips trembling and her eyes glazed over.

“And you love it, don’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t come running every time I call.”

His pace got faster, his hands marking her fair skin with red. It was dirty, fast, and unromantic—just the way she liked it. When they were done, Yuna was panting, her blonde hair stuck to her sweaty face, her skirt wrinkled, and her panties on the floor. Heitor straightened up, glancing at her as he fastened his belt.

"Don't tell anyone, okay?" he said, but his tone was more of a warning than a request.

Yuna laughed, picking up her torn panties and throwing them into her backpack.

— Relax, dog. I won't ruin my favorite toy. — She winked at him, already composing herself. — But next time, bring me an energy drink. This isn't free.

He shook his head, leaving without saying anything else. Yuna stood there for a second, fixing her hair in the broken mirror and smiling to herself. Hector was the kind of risk that was worth it — and she knew she would call him again, just to feel that adrenaline rush again.

What started as a few casual encounters in the abandoned bathrooms became an almost daily routine. He was addicted to her, and Yuna knew it — the way he grabbed her with those big hands, pulling her blond hair tightly and thrusting like it was the last day of his life, was all she needed to feel alive. They met every afternoon, sometimes even twice in the same day, in the same moldy bathroom, with the sound of her moans echoing off the cracked walls.

— Damn, Heitor, you're getting good at this — she said, panting, as he pressed her against the sink.

— Shut up and moan, you bitch — he replied, squeezing her neck the way she liked.

It was dirty, it was rough, and she loved every second of it. But what Yuna didn't know was that the secret was starting to leak. Lia, Heitor's good girlfriend, wasn't as dumb as she seemed. She had noticed the messages he deleted too quickly, the way he got nervous when Yuna showed up around. One day, she followed him to the abandoned block and heard everything — the moans, the slaps, the provocations. Lia kept quiet, but inside she was boiling. That blonde bitch was going to pay dearly.

The key moment came one sunny afternoon in the cafeteria. Yuna was sitting with Lia, pretending to be the perfect friend, while chewing on a snack with those full lips that everyone wanted to kiss. She tossed her blonde hair to the side and gave a sweet smile, the kind that didn't match the slut she was inside.

"Oh, Lia, you're so cute, you know?" Yuna said, tilting her head like a doll. "Heitor is lucky to have such a nice girlfriend. I could never be like that, I'm too... free, you know?" Lia smiled back, but her eyes were cold, almost cutting. She already knew everything — she had seen the two of them leaving the bathroom last week, Yuna adjusting her wrinkled skirt and Heitor with his belt still half open. But she wasn't going to give Yuna the pleasure of confronting her in front of everyone. Not yet.

"Yeah, Yuna, you're really... free," Lia replied, her voice too calm. "But sometimes freedom comes at a price, right?" Yuna laughed, thinking it was just a friendly chat.

— Sure, but I always find a way to hold others accountable, not myself. — She winked, getting up from the table with a sway that made half the cafeteria turn their heads. — See you later, beautiful!

Little did she know that Lia was already plotting. The good girl had a vengeful side that no one knew about. That same night, she called some guys from the gym class — some brutes who already had a reputation for not taking any nonsense lying down. The leader was Gael, a six-foot-tall closet with shaved hair and a lip piercing that gave him a mean look. Lia was direct with him:

— Yuna needs to be taught a lesson. She thinks she can walk all over everyone, but I want you guys to show her that she's not so untouchable.

Gael gave a crooked smile, scratching his chin.

— The blonde bitch, huh? I've seen her shaking her hips. What do you want us to do?

"Make her feel what I felt," Lia said, her eyes shining with anger. "But don't tell me the details. Just... put an end to her posing."

"Deal," Gael replied, already imagining what was going to happen. He called three more guys from the group, all as big as him, and started planning. Yuna was going to get a surprise, and it wasn't going to be the kind she could negotiate with a smile or a little favor.

In the meantime, Yuna went on with her life, whispering provocations in the ear of some random freshman in the hallway.

— If you give me some money, I'll let you look up my skirt for five seconds — she said, laughing as the boy blushed.

But she had no idea what was coming. Lia had turned the tables, and Gael's thugs were already watching her, waiting for the perfect moment to attack.

The last few days on campus were full of buzz. A party at the dorm was on the way, and everyone knew it was going to be the event of the semester. The seniors were already stocking up on cheap beer and vodka, the amateur DJs were testing the speakers, and the drug dealers were on duty making sure there would be weed for everyone who wanted to get high. It was the kind of night that promised chaos, and Lia saw this as the perfect opportunity to put her plan into action. She was tired of pretending she didn't know about Heitor's escapades with Yuna, and that party was going to be the stage where the blonde slut would fall from her pedestal.

The day arrived, and the dorm turned into a hell of flashing lights and loud music. The electronic music was blasting the eardrums, the air was thick with weed smoke and the sour smell of spilled booze. College students danced like there was no tomorrow, some already making out in the dark corners, others sprawled on the couches with red eyes and a silly smile. It was the perfect environment for Lia's plan.

Yuna entered the party as if she were the queen of the whole damn thing. Her black dress was an attack: it clung to her slim, curvy body, very short, with a neckline that went down almost to her belly button and slits on the sides that showed off her slim waist and white thighs. Her blonde hair was straight, shining like liquid gold under the colored lights, and her red lips, painted with a scandalous lipstick, seemed to scream "catch me if you can". She started dancing in the middle of the crowd, her heels clicking on the floor, her hips shaking to a rhythm that made the guys drool and the girls roll their eyes.

“So, you idiots, who’s going to give me a drink today?” she shouted, throwing her hair back and doing a spin that lifted her dress enough to drive everyone crazy.

A guy with green hair, already half drunk, raised a glass of beer.

“I’ll give it to you, Yuna, but dance with me first!” She laughed, taking the glass and downing half of it at once, the liquid running down her chin on purpose.

“Dance with you?” She came closer, rubbing her body against him for a second before moving away. “Only if you learn how to move that skeleton, pretty boy.”

Lia was in the corner, watching everything with a glass of soda in her hand to hide it. She waited for the right moment and approached, a fake smile plastered on her face.

“Yuna, my favorite!” — she called, holding a bottle of vodka and a lit joint. — Let's party together today, have a sip with me!

Yuna turned to her, still shaking her hips, and took the bottle with a crooked smile.

“Lia, you at a party? You're turning into a person, huh!”

She took a long sip, the vodka burning her throat, and laughed. — Do you want to be a slut like me? Just ask for a lesson.

Lia laughed along, but her eyes were calculating every move. She passed the joint to Yuna.

“Who knows? Smoke it, relax with me.”

Yuna took a deep drag, exhaling the smoke slowly while her brown eyes sparkled.

“This is life, Lia. You should give up that saintly vibe more often.”

She took another sip of vodka, her head already starting to spin.

Lia didn't stop. She stayed there, filling Yuna with booze and weed as if it were a mission. After about thirty minutes, Yuna was laughing out loud, tripping on her heels and speaking more slurredly.

“Let’s play something different,” Lia said, holding her arm. “There’s a game in the back room. Are you up for it?”

Yuna, high and confident, tossed her hair back.

— Game? I'm the game, Lia. Take me there, I'll finish off these idiots.

Lia led her through the crowded hallway to a door in the back. Yuna still thought she was in charge, her dress riding up as she walked, the smile of someone who always came out on top. The room was cramped, with an old couch, empty cans on the table, and a strong smell of smoke. Gael and the thugs were already there, waiting, but Yuna didn't even notice the danger. Lia closed the door, and the click of the lock was lost in the loud music.

“Ready for the game, Yuna?” Lia asked, her tone colder.

Yuna fell onto the couch, crossing her legs and laughing.

“Sure, you idiot. What is it? Truth or dare? I win anything with my eyes closed.”

Lia took a step back.

“Let's see. These guys will show you what it's like.”

Yuna looked at the thugs and laughed again, still thinking she could fool everyone.

— You guys? Are you going to try to catch me? Come on, I can handle anything.

Lia left without saying anything else, leaving Yuna there, drunk, stoned and full of herself, while Gael and the others approached.

The private room was pitch black, with only the weak light from an old lamp casting shadows on the moldy walls. Yuna was sprawled on the couch, her torn black dress hanging from her body like a rag, her straight blonde hair falling over her sweaty face. She was still dizzy from the vodka and weed that Lia had slipped into her, but the crooked smile on her red lips showed that she still thought she was in charge. The four brutes — Gael, Ian, Luan and Andrew — were surrounding her, their eyes shining with a mixture of anger and lust that she had underestimated at first.

“So, you big guys, is this what you call a lesson?” Yuna said, her voice slurred but full of provocation. She crossed her legs, her dress riding up higher, and laughed. “You’re going to have to do better than that to impress me.” 

Gael, the six-foot tall man with the lip piercing, stepped forward and smiled a smile that made her stomach do a little knot—but she wasn’t going to let him see that. 

“You talk too much, blondie,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the air. “Let’s see if that mouth can handle the rest.” 

She laughed again, tossing her hair back in an exaggerated gesture. 

“Go ahead, big guy. I’ve dealt with guys bigger than you.” 

That’s when things changed. Gael unbuckled his belt with a snap, and when his pants fell off, Yuna blinked twice, her smile faltering for a second. His cock was huge—thick, hard, and with a throbbing vein that seemed more like a threat than an invitation. She swallowed hard, but tried to hide it by lifting her chin. 

— Okay, it's... reasonable — she muttered, but her voice was less firm.

Ian, the dark-haired man with the shaved head, chuckled softly and opened his pants too, revealing another monster that made her feline eyes widen a little. Luan, the tattooed blond, and Andrew, the skinny man with the wild look, followed suit, and suddenly Yuna was staring at four giant cocks, each one bigger than the last, all hard and ready for her. Her confidence began to crack like thin glass.

“Fuck, what's this?” she said, trying to laugh, but the sound came out nervous. “You're kidding, right?”

“Kidding?” Luan retorted, grabbing her hair tightly and pulling her head back. “You'll see who's kidding here.”

Before she could answer, Gael grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head with one hand, while the other tore the rest of her dress, leaving her in only her panties. Ian slapped her thigh, hard enough to leave a red mark, and she cried out, more in shock than pain.

“Hey, calm down, you sons of bitches!” she tried to pull away, her heart racing. “This isn’t fair!”

— Fair? — Andrew laughed, approaching with that crazy look. — You fucked Lia, now we fuck you. Simple.

Yuna struggled, but their strength was too much. Gael turned her face down on the couch, her face sinking into the stinky fabric as he ripped off her panties with a yank. She felt his cock brush against her ass, and the size of it made her tremble for the first time.

— Go slow, damn it! — she screamed, but her voice came out more like a request than an order.

— Slow? — Gael growled, thrusting in all at once with a force that drew a hoarse scream from her. He was too big, too aggressive, and she felt her entire body protest as he pumped without mercy.

Ian held her arms, keeping her in place, while Luan knelt in front of her, forcing his cock into her mouth.

— Suck it, bitch — he said, giving her a light slap to reinforce it. She tried to resist, but his size filled her mouth, and she gagged, her eyes watering.

Andrew and the other guy were on either side, their hands grabbing her breasts, squeezing them tightly as they laughed at the muffled moans she let out. It was an attack from all sides — Gael thrusting from behind, Luan from the front, and the other two marking her fair skin with scratches and slaps. Yuna lost her breath, her head spinning, her body struggling to get used to the invasion.

But then the alcohol and marijuana really started to take effect. The initial pain, the shock, everything started to mix together in a warm haze. Gael's cock, which before seemed to tear her in half, was now hitting a spot that made her legs tremble in a way she couldn't ignore. She moaned loudly, the sound muffled by Luan's cock, and the guys noticed the change.

— Look, the bitch is enjoying it — Ian said, laughing as he slapped her ass again.

Yuna tried to deny it, but her body didn't lie. Her moans were getting longer, hoarser, and she started moving her hips against Gael, almost without wanting to. The pleasure was coming in waves, mixed with the adrenaline and the confusion of the drink.

“You... bastards…” she managed to mumble, but her tone was weaker, almost surrendered.

Luan pulled her hair, forcing her to look at him as he thrust into her mouth.

“That's it, moan for us. Show us what you're really like.”

Gael sped up, each thrust making the couch creak, and Yuna felt a heat rising through her body, the alcohol transforming their aggression into an ecstasy she hadn't expected. Andrew switched places with Luan, thrusting his cock into her mouth while Luan moved back, and Ian took Gael's place. It was a brutal rotation, but she was starting to lose herself in it, her eyes glazed over, her lips trembling, her body surrendering to the rhythm.

“Fuck, you guys… you’re animals…” she moaned between one gasp and another, but now there was a sparkle in her feline eyes, a twisted pleasure that she could no longer hide.

When Gael came back to fuck her again, she was already arching her back, her moans echoing in the room as the four of them used her nonstop. The alcohol had turned everything upside down—what started as a lesson for her turned into a chaos of pleasure that she no longer knew how to stop.

Yuna was in the middle of the hurricane, her body sweaty and trembling, her blond hair stuck to her face as the four brutes—Gael, Ian, Luan, and Andrew—continued their attack. She was already dizzy, the alcohol and marijuana transforming the whole thing into a crazy mix of pain and excitement. The couch creaked with each thrust, and her moans were coming out hoarse, almost uncontrollable. But the guys weren't satisfied yet — they wanted more, and the next step would break her in a way she never imagined.

Gael, the big guy with the lip piercing, pulled her by the hips, turning her face down again. His cock, still hard and wet, brushed against her ass, and Yuna laughed, thinking it was just another round.

— You want to do it again, big guy? — she said, her voice shaking but trying to keep her composure. — Go for it, I can handle it.

He gave a crooked smile, holding her buttocks with his big hands and spreading her open without ceremony.

— You think you've seen it all, huh, bitch? — he growled, spitting on his hand and rubbing it on his cock. — Let's see how you deal with that virgin ass of yours.

Yuna froze, her feline eyes widening in fear for the first real time.

— Wait, what?! — she screamed, trying to turn around, but Ian grabbed her wrists and pinned them against the couch. — No, no, I've never done that, you sickos! Get out of here!

Luan, the tattooed blond, laughed out loud and slapped her ass hard, the sound echoing in the room.

— Relax, blondie. Everyone has a first time. And yours will be with us.

She struggled, her heart racing, fear running up her spine as Gael positioned his cock at the entrance of her asshole. It was too big, too thick, and she knew it was going to hurt like hell.

“Please, no, not that!” she begged, her voice coming out higher, almost tearful. “I’ll do anything else, but not that!”

“Anything?” Andrew, the skinny guy with the wild look, came closer, rubbing his cock in her face. “Then suck here while he fucks you, you whore.”

Gael didn’t wait for an answer. He forced his way in, the head of his cock pushing against her tight asshole, and Yuna screamed loudly, her entire body tensing with the pain. It was like a hot iron was ripping her in half, the pressure unbearable as he tried to force his way in.

“Fuck, it’s so fucking tight!” Gael grunted, gripping her hips tighter. “Relax your ass, bitch, or it’ll be worse.” — It hurts, you sons of bitches! — Yuna screamed, her nails scratching the couch, tears streaming down her eyes as she tried to pull away. — Stop, I can't take it!

Ian laughed, keeping her arms pinned.

— Can't take it? Didn't you rule everyone? Now cry, go on.

He pushed in further, and the entrance was hell — her virgin ass resisted, but his cock was relentless. After a few seconds of struggling, the head passed, and Yuna gave a hoarse scream, her body shaking as he forced the rest of it inside. The pain was raw, throbbing, and she felt every inch of that monster stretching her like never before.

— It's fucking tearing me apart! — she moaned, her voice broken, her face buried in the couch as tears wet the fabric. — Take it off, please!

— Take it off? — Gael laughed, starting to move slowly, each movement eliciting a moan of pain from her. — You're going to ask for more, just wait.

Luan grabbed her hair, pulling her head back and shoving his cock in her mouth again.

— Cry with this in your mouth, bitch. Swallow while he fucks your ass.

She choked, Luan's cock filling her throat as Gael thrust into her ass, the pain mixing with the heat of the alcohol that was still running through her veins. It was too much—her body was in shock, but little by little, something started to change. The pain, which at first was unbearable, was mixed with a strange sensation, a tingling that went up her legs and made her tremble in a different way.

— Fuck, she's starting to like it—Ian said, laughing as he let go of her wrists to grab her breasts, squeezing her nipples hard.— Look how her ass is blinking now.

Yuna moaned loudly, the sound muffled by Luan's cock, and her body, almost unintentionally, began to relax. The alcohol was softening her resistance, and Gael's cock, which had previously felt like a punishment, now hit a spot inside her that sent shocks of pleasure through her body.

"You... bastards..." she murmured, but her voice was weaker, her hips moving a little against him.

"That's it, bitch, grind on that cock," Gael said, slapping her ass that made her scream again, but this time with a different tone. He sped up, thrusting deeper, her asshole slowly giving in as she moaned louder.

Andrew switched places with Luan, shoving his cock in her mouth while Luan moved back, waiting for his turn.

"My cock wants a piece of that blonde too," Luan said, rubbing his cock against her ass as Gael pulled out.

When Luan entered, there was another wave of pain — his cock was thicker than Gael's, and her already sensitive asshole protested again.

"Fuck, it won't fit!" Yuna screamed, but the scream turned into a long moan when he forced it all inside, stretching her even more.

"Yes, it will fit, you whore," Luan growled, thrusting hard while holding her hair like a rein. "You're going to swallow every inch."

The pain was there, raw and throbbing, but the pleasure was growing with it, the alcohol turning everything into a hot mess. Yuna felt her asshole burning, but also throbbing, her body getting used to the invasion while the guys laughed and cursed her. Ian was next, thrusting with a brutality that made her see stars, and Andrew finished the round, his cock thinner but faster, pounding deep while she moaned nonstop.

"It feels good now, right, bitch?" — Andrew said, slapping her face as he thrust. — Tell her you want more!

— I… fuck… want… — Yuna moaned, the words coming out almost unintentionally, her body surrendered, her asshole broken but throbbing with pleasure.

They continued, taking turns in her ass, each one more aggressive than the other, until she no longer knew where the pain began and the excitement ended. The couch was soaked in sweat, her blonde hair a mess, and her moans filled the room as the four of them used her without mercy.

Yuna was at her limit, her body sweaty and marked, her virgin asshole now broken by the huge cocks of Gael, Ian, Luan and Andrew. The couch creaked as if it was going to fall apart, and her moans were coming out hoarse, uncontrolled, as the four brutes thrusted without stopping. She had already given in to the mix of pain and pleasure, the alcohol and marijuana making her head soft, but now things were going to another level — she was about to break for good.

Gael was back in her ass, his thick cock stretching her to the max as he held her hips with brute force.

“Fuck, this ass is swallowing everything now,” he grunted, thrusting deep, each thrust making her body tremble. “You like this, don’t you, you slut?”

Yuna tried to respond, but all she could come out was a loud moan, her mouth half open as Andrew shoved his cock down her throat again.

“Tell me, bitch!” Andrew said, slapping her face so hard that her red lips bled a little. “Tell me you love being fucked like this!”

She choked, her cat-like eyes glazed over, tears streaming down her face as Andrew’s cock hit the back of her throat.

— I… love… — she managed to murmur, her voice almost fading, her body moving on its own against Gael.

Luan laughed, grabbing her breasts and squeezing her nipples hard while Ian reached between her legs, rubbing her clit with rough fingers.

“Look at this bitch, she’s dripping,” Ian said, laughing as his fingers got wet. “You were born for this, blondie.”

Yuna’s head was spinning, the pleasure coming in waves so strong that she couldn’t think straight anymore. Her ass was burning, her body was aching, but every thrust, every slap, every curse was pushing her to a place of no return. She started to laugh, a low, broken sound, her eyes unfocused as the mind break hit her hard.

“That… fuck me… break me…” she moaned, the words coming out unfiltered, her voice shaking with ecstasy. “More… fuck, more!”

The guys exchanged glances, surprised for a second, but soon they took advantage. Gael thrust faster, his cock throbbing inside her asshole as he cursed:

— See, you idiots? She's asking for it! Let's finish this whore once and for all!

Luan switched places with Andrew, shoving his thick cock in her mouth while Andrew went for her ass, thrusting at an insane speed. Ian stood in front, rubbing his cock against her breasts while Gael held her in place. It was chaos—four huge cocks, hands everywhere, slapping and pulling hair, and Yuna in the middle, lost in a sea of ​​pleasure that had swallowed her sanity.

— Fuck, I'm going to cum in that ass! — Andrew yelled, his rhythm getting sloppy as he thrust deep, his cock throbbing.

— Then cum, damn it! — Gael replied, laughing as he held her hips so Andrew could finish.

Andrew gave one last loud moan, thrusting all the way in and cumming inside her ass, the heat of his cum filling her as she screamed, her body convulsing. He pulled out, his cock dripping, and Luan took his place, thrusting into her ass without even waiting.

"My turn, bitch," Luan said, his thick cock forcing its way in as Andrew's cum dripped down her thighs.

Yuna was beside herself, laughing and moaning at the same time, her eyes rolling back as the pleasure consumed her.

"Cum... cum in me..." she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper, her body limp but still responding.

Luan thrust hard, her asshole already so broken that he could easily enter, and he came right after, filling her up again as he slapped her ass.

"Take it, you whore, swallow it all!" Ian was next, thrusting into her ass while Gael shoved his cock into her mouth, the two of them synchronizing their movements.

“Open your mouth, blondie,” Gael growled, grabbing her hair as he thrust into her throat. “I’m going to cum on your face.”

She obeyed, her mind broken, her mouth open as Gael came, hot cum running down her face, dripping onto her red lips and chin. Ian finished in her ass, the third to fill her from behind, and Yuna fell onto the couch, her body shaking, her asshole throbbing with the cum from all three.

Andrew, who had already cum, rubbed his half-pumped cock against her breasts, leaving a wet trail.

“Is it over, bitch?” he said, laughing as she moaned softly, almost fainting.

Yuna didn’t answer. She was slumped, her blonde hair a sticky mess, her face covered in cum, her asshole dripping as her body convulsed in spasms of pleasure. The mind break had hit her hard — she was no longer the confident Yuna, the bitch who ruled everything. She was just a broken body, lost in an ecstasy she never imagined.

The guys straightened up, laughing and slapping each other on the back.

"Mission accomplished, huh," Gael said, fastening his belt. "Tell Lia that she won't forget it any time soon." They left the room, leaving Yuna there, the sound of the party slowly returning to her ears as she tried to breathe, her body and mind in pieces.

Yuna lay sprawled on the couch for a time she couldn't even count. The noise of the party outside — the loud music, the laughter, the breaking of glasses — seemed to come from another world. Her body was a mess: her dress torn on the floor, her blond hair stuck to her face with sweat and cum, her fair skin marked by redness, scratches and slaps. Her asshole was still throbbing, sore and hot, the guys' cum dripping down her thighs as she tried to draw air into her lungs. Her head was empty, an echo of the mind break that had just happened, but little by little she came back to herself.

She stood up slowly, her legs wobbly, and grabbed what was left of her dress to cover her body. The broken mirror on the wall showed a Yuna she barely recognized — her feline eyes were sunken, her red lipstick smeared with blood and cum, her face pale but with a strange glow. She laughed, a low, hoarse sound, almost as if she couldn't believe what had happened.

— You sons of bitches… — she muttered to herself, her voice weak but with a new tone, somewhere between anger and fascination.

On campus, rumors began to spread the next morning. No one really knew what had happened in the private room, but everyone saw Yuna leaving the dorm with her dress torn, her hair messy and her walk a little crooked. Some said she had been humiliated, others that she had enjoyed every second of it. Lia heard the whispers and smiled, satisfied with her revenge, but unaware that she had awakened something in Yuna.

The blonde didn't disappear, as some expected. She returned to campus a few days later, wearing her usual short skirt, her red lips shining, but her gaze… her gaze was different. More dangerous, more aware. She still teased, still tossed her hair and laughed at the guys who drooled over her, but now there was a weight in her words, a shine that said she knew what could happen — and maybe even wanted it again. — Hey guys, who's buying me a drink tonight? — she said one afternoon, in the same tone as always, but with a smile that made the guys hesitate.

Yuna had changed. She wasn't just the confident bitch who manipulated everyone anymore. She had a broken side, but also a new side, a fire that the gangbang had lit. The campus whispered about her, the legend growing, and she let it. After all, the game had changed — and she was ready to play again, her way.

But not everything was resolved. As Yuna paraded through the courtyard, a pair of eyes followed her from afar, hidden among the students. It was Heitor, Lia's boyfriend, the guy who had started this whole mess. He had been quiet since the party, but his look wasn't one of guilt or regret — it was one of obsession. He knew what had happened to Yuna, he had heard the rumors, and something in him was burning to pull her back into the abyss. In his hand, a cell phone flashed with an unsent message: "We need to talk, blonde. I know what you've become." The game was far from over.

[wonderjanga]

How about something like, once billy share mary his powers, but due to mary being new superheroe she hasn't come with a name yet so she use captain marvel for a while plus they are twins and kinda look alike... villains and heroes were confused

Mary: *minding her business*

Flash: *zooms over* “Cap! Ca— whoa when’d you grow your hair out.”

Mary: “Huh?”

Flash: “Also why’re you wearing a skirt?”

Mary: “I always have?”

Flash: “Since when?”

Mary: “Since the very first time I became a hero…?”

Flash: “Nuh uh.”

Mary: “Uh… Yuh huh.”

Flash: “Nuh uh cause look.” *shows her a pic of him and Cap, chilling*

Mary: *wondering how long her brother’s known these guys* “Wow, when was this taken?”

Flash: “Like two years ago. Anyways, so why are you wearing a skirt?”

Mary: “I already told you I always have.”

Flash: “Dude, I literally just showed you proof— also, why you younger? You look 16. Did you de-age yourself?”

Mary: “No?”

Flash: “Again, I literally have proof in my han—”

Marvel: “Hey, Flash!” *lands next to him* “I see you’ve met Captain Marvel?”

Flash: *short-circuits and looks between them both* “Aren’t… You Captain Marvel?”

Marvel: “Yeah?”

Flash: “And somehow she’s Captain Marvel?”

Marvel: “Yeah?”

Flash: “I’m just gonna go now.”

Marvel: “But I thought you were coming over because you wanted to play that new game you bought? It was that, right?”

Flash: “It was, yeah. I wanted to play Mortal Kombat with you and thrash you cause you suck, but…” *looking between them* “I’d rather not deal with whatever this is. Is she an evil clone?”

Marvel: “No?”

Flash: “A normal clone?”

Mary: “No??”

Flash: “A doppelgänger perhaps that’s been aged down?”

Mary: “No?!”

Flash: “Are you sure? Cause this is reminding me a lot of the Superboy situation.”

Mary: “What Superboy situation??”

Flash and Marvel: “Don’t worry about it.”

Marvel: “Anyways, it’s not like that. She’s my sister.”

*silence*

Flash: *doesn’t believe him* “…Sister?”

Marvel: “Yeah? Why do you seem surprised?”

Flash: “Well…” *looks between them* “…I mean, I can see that she’s way younger than you and that you guys look really, really alike. If you guys weren’t so far apart in age, I’d say you were twins.”

Marvel: *shrug* “We get it from our dad. He had strong genes.”

Flash: “Are you sure you’re not the dad?”

*silence*

Marvel; “Pardon?”

Flash: “Well, I’m looking at her, and I’m looking at you and you’re definitely old enough to be her dad.”

Marvel: “So…?”

Flash: “So are you actually her dad and are just lying to me? Are you the one with the strong genes?”

Marvel: “Wha— No!”

Flash: “You sure? Cause I’m pretty sure you’re late 30s and she looks 14 to 15.”

Marvel: “Yes, I’m sure. I’d know if she came out of me.” *crosses arms, sounds so sure of himself*

Flash: “Why would she come out of you…?”

Marvel: “Isn’t that where babies come from?”

Flash: “Yes, but why would she come out of you? …and not her mom?”

Bonus:

Black Adam: “Why… are you a little girl?”

Mary: “Oh come on!”

[kxsagi]

hihihi~!

i really love your work and had a request to see if it was possible!

what’s your thoughts on bllk men if they were a girl dad? of course, they would be aged up. do you think they’ll do awesome or completely struggle with their daughter?

i just love girl dads, they’re so cute. i love bllk, too. so, why not put them together? <3

if you can do that, you’ll make my day!

“𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐝 𝐞𝐫𝐚”

a/n: hi, this idea is so wholesome, i love the fluff!!!

i absolutely live for the daughter effect

(art credits go to kisa0813 on X)

ft. isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, barou shoei, mikage reo, kaiser michael

isagi yoichi – “will try his absolute best but is also stressed 24/7”

reads every parenting blog and book he can get his hands on like it’s soccer film. 

cries the first time she says “dada.” 

overly worried about her crawling near anything mildly dangerous. “is that corner too sharp?? is the floor too hard???”

can braid hair decently now, but he watches a tutorial every time. 

tried to play soccer with her once. she picked flowers instead. he proudly kept them in his wallet for weeks. 

dad rating: 8/10 (competent, but emotionally overwhelmed).

nagi seishiro – “lady dad turned ultimate softie”

thought being a dad would be too much work… until she fell asleep on his chest once. now she has him wrapped around her teeny tiny pinky. 

lets her paint his nails. also lets her put stickers on his face. doesn’t flinch. 

he carries her on his shoulders all the time. even when she’s like 9. 

naps together = sacred bonding time (his love language as well). 

doesn’t know how to say no, so his daughter gets whatever she wants. 

dad rating: 10/10 (shockingly incredible and a natural, chillest girl dad on the planet).

bachira meguru – “chaotic good dad”

teaches her how to climb trees and paint murals on the walls (with washable paint… sometimes). 

she has glitter in her hair and so does he. always. 

they make up silly dances in the living room. matching pajamas. karaoke battles. 

lives for being called “her favorite person.” 

tells her monsters aren’t scary because she’s scarier, and she believes it. 

dad rating: 11/10 (she’s a menace just like him and they’re thriving).

itoshi rin – “emotionally constipated but trying so hard”

very awkward at first. holds her like she might explode. 

eventually becomes her quiet protector. she doesn’t need words when he’s around. 

learns to tie pigtails with surgical precision. might not talk much, but he’s very present. 

when she gets older and gets her heart broken, he will hunt the boy down. 

secretly lets her paint his nails black. she says he looks “cooler” that way. 

dad rating: 7/10 (emotionally struggling, but loves her more than anything). 

itoshi sae – “cool dad but unbothered until she calls him out”

acts chill, but his daughter has him clocked. “you act like you don’t care, but you bought me five outfits for one field trip, dad.” 

drives her to school with sunglasses on. she still holds his pinky. 

always says “no” to tea parties… until she calls him “sir sae of the pink palace.” then he pulls up in a crown. 

gives subtle but powerful advice. “you’re already better than anyone who doubts you.” 

dad rating: 9/10 (low effort, high impact. she’s his favorite person but he’ll never admit it out loud).

barou shoei – “terrifying to everyone but her”

she has a bow in her hair and he has matching scrunchies on his wrist. he pretends he doesn’t like it. 

yells at anyone who makes her cry. teachers. kids. possibly clouds. 

makes her eat vegetables. makes them look like her favorite animals first. 

draws a lion on every lunchbox note. sometimes it says “roar today” in all caps. 

once attended a ballet recital in a full suit. cried when she did a spin. 

dad rating: 10/10 (terrifying dad, softest girl protector ever).

mikage reo – “spoils her endlessly and unapologetically”

designer baby clothes. baby yoga. a mini sports car she doesn’t even know how to drive. 

makes flashcards to teach her 3 languages before age 4. 

will throw her a birthday party that costs more than a wedding. 

but if she says she’d rather have a picnic with him? he’s packing snacks in 2 seconds. 

wants her to know she can do anything, even if it means letting her “do his makeup” for 2 hours straight. 

dad rating: 9/10 (rich, extra, but devoted as hell).

kaiser michael – “wants to win best dad award… but needs help”

overly confident at first. “this’ll be easy, i’m amazing with kids.” drops the pacifier on the first try. 

secretly has parenting books hidden in his bathroom. will never admit he cried at a lullaby. 

tries to teach her german before she can even talk. 

his daughter tells him to stop showing off when they’re at the park. 

gets offended when she says “mommy’s stronger.” 

dad rating: 6.5/10 (trying his best, needs some humbling. but he does love her to pieces). 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[elizzsush]

“Fuck you Comic Con nerds!” | DC - Batman WIP

Batfam X Isekaied Reader

— in which you, a DC fan gets isekaied into and gets saved by boy wonder. Only to get mad at him and B… it’s only after you calm down (still mad at them) you piece together what actually happened… but should you tell them?

AU: Soulmate (?), isekai Rating: Sfw

Note: You and Damien are the same age and shit. I don’t really remember how old he is but for the sake of fanfiction let’s age him up to 18 (or down I looked it up and it said he was 37? I have no idea where that info was from comic are confusing)

Warning: Y/N swears a lot and makes a like one sexual joke? _________________________________

One minute you were in the greatest, most magical place in the world: Six flags. And the next you were in the sewer. To say you were pissed and totally confused was an understatement. Those funnel cakes by the entrance were calling your name- you were gonna get one before you left! Now instead of that sweet cake smell it was replaced with the smell of shit and piss and whatever else lived in the sewer.

Sixflags was suppose to be relaxing- doctors orders. You just needed to relax and distract from-

You were in the sewers. You dreaded to think about what you may have stepped in while on your quest to find a manhole cover.

So yes, you looked like an idiot in a Superman cape carrying a Wayne enterprises mug wondering around the sewers. The mug was half off and made you feel like you existed in the world of DC instead of the regular merchandise… and the cape was because who doesn’t get a cape when they go to six flags? Or at least bring the cape they already bought with them. Looking back, you blamed the mug. Anyway, you were wandering around this horrible sewer with water greener then green. It seriously looked toxic… when you heard this horrible roar…

You glanced back from where you came- looking towards the sound, when you heard it again. So, like any sane person. You broke out into a sprint.

Bad ideas, because it heard you and was coming closer now.

You seriously doubted you would be able to outrun this thing for long. It was getting closer and rapidly. But, thankfully, luck was on your side- because you saw a manhole cover!

Climbing the ladder you pushed the thing open-

Only to almost get ran over by a fucking car! “Watch it!” You cursed at the speeding car, a certain finger proudly in the air as you climb out. Momentarily forgetting about the creature that was chasing you. Remember that you slammed the man hole cover shut in a hurry.

But, did you think you could compete with some monster when it comes to the battle of strength? Yeah, didn’t think so either. It blasted the manhole cover off of its neat little spot and you hurry back and away from the road. “What the- oh my god.” You breath in relief when the thing was too big to actually climb out of the sewers. “Killer croc… okay… I’m losing it… whatever it is…” you try and breath out to collect yourself but you were interrupted by the sound of a very angry lizard man… thing. Crocodile? “Okay fuck off!” You shouted angrily at the villain and rip your cap off. “Abusive aunts or some shit is hard but by god your annoying!” You huff and run away because that just made him more angry and you didn’t want to stick around for that.

You did run away while waving two fingers at him, each from the middle of two of your hands but that was neither here nor there. You just needed to walk away and clear your head-

And…

You bumped into someone on your little escape. A chest of a fucking cosplayer. “My day couldn’t be going worse- oh my god, Fuck you Comic Con nerds!” You swore at the boy in black, red and green. “Six flags was suppose to be fucking relaxing!” You swore at him and turned away to go the opposite way only to bare witness to the snarls of a certain croc

“get back here!” He made the fucking ground shake.

“Fuck you and your shitty Damien cosplay, I am out of here.” You turn and ran from him only he to met with the silhouette of a bat… man, it was fucking Batman. “Oh I wonder who it is? Bruce Wayne, no fucking duh, Go fight the idiot on acid and leave me out of it.” You hissed because you were cornered. You tend to lash out when your cornered. He approached you quieter now. “…Oh um, I’ll take the crocodile, thanks.” You spoke as you backed up only for him to make the ground shake harder-

“Fine! Boy wonder then god damn. At least he’s hot!”

“How do You know our names?” Boy wonder piped up. He was suddenly standing beside you.

“Are You dense or really into role play?” You hissed at them. “I don’t know what kind of budget your little prank crew is working with but screw off!” Just then the crocadile managed to ruin the ground around him and break free- resulting in Batman and Robin to fight him and you-

The sane one to run away, “I’m so suing six flags for this- didn’t sign up for their fucking role-play shit.”

—————————————

Okay, so after adjusting. You were no longer in six flags- nor some rich nerds cosplay special effects whatever. Hell you didn’t even somehow end up on a movie set shooting for the next Batman. “Gotham more like god dammit, right?” You joked to yourself, and the old women next to you. She just looked at you weirded out and oddly disappointed before shaking her head. “Okay, Fuck me then.”

So, yeah, you were feeling a lot of emotions. Hey, you can adjust to this! Because no way in hell was getting back to your world worth being involved in whatever episode or comic plot this whole thing was. Yeah no, fuck that. You made a checklist.

1. Get out of Gotham (metropolis was lovely, Superman was cool-)

2. Get enough money to fuck off to some corner of the world no one knew about.

And finally 3. Live peacefully knowing you’ll never get that funnel cake.

The only problem? You didn’t have any money, food, shelter, phone, money again, or anything besides the clothes on your back. And you were craving funnel cake. Yes, you were poor in Gotham. That was basically a death sentence.

At least you had a mug. A stupid, useless mug. Hey, at least you can beg for change with it! “I should rob people.” You mutter to yourself because, that seemed like a good easy way to get money- the old women next to you however eyed you warily and moved her purse. “Not you, we’re cool Margaret.” You sent her a wave and a wink and got up. This plan would work.

It was this or sell the Justice leagues names to villains. Which- hey that could make cash and make you dead!

—————————————

Despite what people will tell you, stealing is fun.

Who would have guessed- your a natural pick pocket! If pick pocketing was running past women and tugging their bags away. “My bag! My purse!” Okay, maybe you had a bit of a sick sense of humor but you were desperate! And you made 132 dollars and 25 cents. Had it been two days? Yes, had you been pepper sprayed twice? Yes again, but you avoided it!

The only regret you had? Why hadn’t it been marvel? Marvel just seemed easier to live in. Yes the world did end but it bounced back! You sighed and threw a penny in the air. You were honestly tired. Two days was a long time to go without a bed. You couldn’t get a job either, you tired and needed so much to prove you were a serial killer or a thief- which included a birth certificate you didn’t have and so much more. Background checks would be the death of you. Even at that small cafe you met Margret? Yeah it was Margret. “Well we’ll well, if it isn’t Gotham’s newest petty criminal.”

You dropped your penny. Leaving you with 24 cents.

It was Jason fucking Todd.

“If I die, at least make it by those thighs.” You said solemnly, accepting your death. “I mean seriously, you squat or something?” You did a wolf whistle and now you were being detained. Okay, you tried.

You never claimed to be better then a man. And if you did you lied.

“I got her B.”

.

.

.

.

“Banananannaan Batman! Da Na!” You sang as Batman’s Batmobile pulled into the bat cave. The same one you had been dragged too. “He’s the crime fighting vigilantes who works alone! Besides Robin, Nightwing, Gordon, the Justice League, batgirl, Red Robin, red hood, Oracle, Barbra, um… I know theirs more help me out jay bird?” You sang as he excited the car. “He refuses to kill the joker who’s a mass murder ands death would save thousands! It’s Batman! The hero man! Danananana!”

“How do You know?” Batman asked as he walked towards you.

“The Song? Oh I improvised. Hard to find rhymes for Batman, hero man is pretty good though, huh?” He fucking punched you! “Fuck! What the hell dude? Wait are you the angry Batman who’s quieter or the nice Batman- god it’s so hard to know which one I ended up with.”

“This is serious.” Dick Said as he grabbed Batman hand and pulled him away from you.

“Heard of coping? penis?” You rolled your eyes, “this is kinda how I do it.”

“You sold our information, or Superman’s information too a villain. Tell us why and how you knew it and we’ll let you go.” He continued, “our friend is in serious danger now because of you.” He gritted his teeth looking upset.

You just rolled your eyes and licked your now bloody teeth. “Would have sold your guys information for a lot more then I got on me. Living large with eight dogs- maybe cats? Don’t know how I feel about animals actually. Which do you prefer dogs or cats?”

“We need to know how many villains you sold us out too.” Dick said calmly, his face getting closer to your own. “Now.”

You smile and lean closer to him. “You free after this?” He backed away with a frustrated look and Batman put his hand on Dick shoulder. “Oh B is tapping in now- great!”

“Your the only person who knows who we are.” Another voice said you looked behind you and saw Damien.

“That you don’t trust. Maybe check your inner circles before punching a poor thief! God… you’d think the world greatest detective would fact check- oh wait isn’t the greatest a chimp or something? I’ve always loved monkeys- oh maybe I’d get a monkey for my pent house.”

“You have no family, no friends, no birth certificate- before last week you didn’t exist. There are no records of you being born or traveling to Gotham. Who exactly are you?” Batman leaned close to you.

You stayed silent, thinking of your options. "I was with a traveling circus..." You began, "Then one day someone rigged the equipment for my parent's routine and then batman adopted me, and that was how I began robin..." You spoke solemnly, you noticed how a certain blue suited bird man tensed up. "Aw, don't tell me we have the same backstory!" You accused the Nighwing, "well one of us is going to have to change it and I hate to tell you, but I make it work."

"She knows more about us than our names... or at least more about Nighwing." You heard a robin mutter, the red one.

"Okay being red was his thing” you look at red hood, “and you took it, so you have no place to talk about me and penis's copycat situation- Even though I totally did it first and he should change it." You nudged your head towards Red Hood, "Kinda like how you took his role as Robin, but you know what Ima stay away from that can of worms haha." You laughed awkwardly as Jason stood up from behind you and walked towards you menacingly.

"This is a Major Turn Off for me you know? The costumes just don’t do it- maybe if you strip-“ and your mouth was tapped shut.

_____________________________________NOTE: Y/N is supposed to be Deadpool coded because I was watching Deadpool and laughing my ass off earlier.

[urmum-lovesme]

Toxic!Rafe when he doesn't like what his girl is wearing. . .

Y/N stood in front of the mirror, one hand carefully applying the last swipe of lip gloss. Her reflection looked back at her- a black mini skirt hugged her hips and a lacy top that had a plunging neckline hugged her torso. She watched Rafe out of the corner of her eye as he stood by the bedside table, a rolled-up bill pressed to his nose. It was like a routine by now- one she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt. There was a tug inside her chest, a part of her that wanted to say something, wanted to tell him to stop, but she didn’t say anything. She just watched, trying not to make a sound.

" 'ight, let’s go, takin’ fuckin’ forever." 

Rafe straightened up, giving her a quick glance as he muttered out under his breath. He wiped his nose and ran a hand through his hair, brunette strands of hair being pushed out of his face. Y/N capped her lip gloss and slid it into her bag, she could feel the weight of his stare on her, like he was waiting for something. She didn’t know what he expected, but she felt that tightness in her chest again, that pressure that always built when they were around each other like this. Her eyes flickered to him when he stepped closer, and she could see his expression change. His gaze narrowed slightly as his eyes traveled over her outfit, lingering longer than usual. 

“What're you wearing?”

“Oh um- I bought this yesterday. I really liked it… thought it’d be perfect for tonight...?”

Y/N’s stomach dropped, but she forced herself to speak out calmly, even though her voice wavered slightly. She smiled, trying to make the best of it, but his expression didn’t soften. He scoffed, his eyes narrowing as they skimmed over the skirt again, and his lips curled into a sneer.

“Your ass is hanging out, Y/N- What the fuck is this?”

Her breath caught. The sting in his words hit deeper than she expected as her hand came to the skirt to smooth out the back of it. When she bought it yesterday she thought it was the perfect length. Now she was starting to doubt herself... She shifted slightly, hoping her voice would steady.

“I got it just for today, Rafe. It’s-"

“Did I tell you to buy it?”

 His words cut through the air like a blade as he rolled his eyes. The way he said it- it wasn’t a question, it was an accusation. The contempt in his voice made her feel small, made her second-guess herself again.

“... no” 

She whispered, the words almost getting caught in her throat. He stepped closer behind her, invading her space. His hands slid around her waist, his fingers pressing against her skin in a possessive grip. She stiffened but didn’t pull away, too nervous to find out what would happen if she did. His nose ran along the skin of her neck before his lips brushed her neck in a kiss that was more forceful than affectionate. She closed her eyes, wishing it felt different as he dragged his teeth over her skin. His breath was hot as he spoke again, his voice soft but laced with something dangerous.

“I’m only looking out for you, baby. You don’t want anyone thinking you’re a slut, right?”

The words hit like a slap and Y/N felt her chest tighten, tears burning the back of her eyes, but she forced herself not to cry. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. She shook her head, biting her lip to keep herself from breaking.

“No” 

She managed, her voice barely audible, the sound shaking with the effort to hold it together. Rafe’s grip on her waist tightened, his fingers digging into her skin as he leaned closer, his lips brushing her ear. She felt the warmth of his breath, felt how much control he had over her in this moment.

“Then change”

He whispered as his eyes locked onto her’s through the reflection of the mirror. 

It wasn’t a request, it was an order.

Her stomach tensed, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she nodded, her body stiff and she turned her gaze away from the mirror, her reflection staring back at her like a stranger, like someone she didn’t recognise and she couldn't find the strength to stare at it. She hated herself for not fighting him, for giving in so easily, but some sick part of her wanted his approval. Y/N stood still, the weight of Rafe's touch still heavy on her skin, his fingers like a constant reminder of his presence. But before she could take another step away from the mirror, she felt it- his hand lifting, slow and deliberate, slipping under the lace of her top. The other hand grazed over her shoulder, sending a shiver down her spine, before it found the strap of her vest. With a calculated movement, he pushed it off her shoulder, the fabric sliding down just enough to expose more of her skin. Rafe leant down towards her bare skin, lips brushing against her exposed shoulder as he muttered, his tone demanding as though the whole world revolved around his whims and desires.

“Change this too” 

Y/N furrowed her brows, instinctively tugging the strap back into place, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt the irritation rising, a bubbling anger that she couldn’t quite express. She'd pre-planned this whole outfit yesterday, went out of her way to buy it and now he was telling her to change? But as his eyes were locked on hers, steady and unblinking, waiting for her response, she didn't say what she was thinking, instead stared blankly at the mirror.

“C’mon, baby, don’t look so upset, hmm?” 

His voice was syrupy sweet, deceptively soft, almost like he cared- but there was nothing caring in his words. He reached forward again, his fingers curling under her chin, turning her face to meet his. The touch was gentle, yet it felt like a vice, forcing her to meet his gaze. She hated the way her body instinctively reacted to him, the way her heart skipped a beat even though everything about this moment made her skin crawl.

His lips brushed against hers in a kiss that was far too gentle for what it really was- a form of manipulation, an assertion of his dominance. She hated the way she melted into it, how her body betrayed her mind. Her chest tightened, a sick feeling gnawing at her insides as she stood there, unable to pull away. He pulled back slightly, his lips curling into a smug, satisfied grin, his eyes gleaming with something darker because he knew exactly how to break her, piece by piece.

Y/N could feel her cheeks burning, the heat of Rafe’s eyes on her causing a flush to rise under her skin. She couldn’t help but notice how extremely warm she felt, how every part of her seemed to ache with the intensity of his gaze. His hand slid down, brushing over the top of the skirt, his fingers moving with deliberate slowness. She barely had time to register the sensation before his hand slipped under the fabric, his palm coming to rest just above her pussy.

“You gonna do as I say, Y/N?” 

Rafe’s voice was low, his breath hot against her ear, and she hated how her body seemed to respond to the warmth of his touch. She found herself nodding and her lips parted to speak, but her voice was lost in her throat as he cupped her through the lace fabric, the heat between her thighs suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

She knew she shouldn't, that she should stop him, she knew he was only doing this so that she'd do what he told her but Just as she was about to speak, to tell him to stop, or to tell him move, or to tell him to keep going, she wasn't sure- but his phone rang out interrupting the silence between them. 

Rafe shifted, pulling his hand away, and Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding, yet she wasn’t sure if it was fear or arousal. He fished the phone out of his back pocket, his eyes never leaving hers. As he pressed the phone to his ear, he leaned in again, his lips capturing hers in another kiss. This time, it was sharp- his teeth grazing over her lower lip before he bit down gently, pulling away with a smirk.

“Yo, Kels, man, what’s up?” 

Rafe said, the phone pressed between his shoulder and ear as he turned to leave her standing motionless. He walked over to the bedside table he was by before and picked up the hundred dollar bill he’d rolled shoving it into his back pocket.

“Nah, she’s being a brat. We’re coming.” 

He spoke casually as he made his way toward the door, Y/N stood still, not sure what to do, her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and frustration. . . of arousal. She watched as Rafe grabbed the door handle and pulled it open. He paused, looking back at her. 

“Change. Now.”

The command echoed in the silence between them, leaving her no room for anything else, the door shut behind him with a finality that left her standing there, completely alone, with nothing but the weight of his words in her mind.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror once more, her stomach twisting as she pulled the fabric off her figure.

@otfniah here's your part 2 baby 😈

part 1

[neeeooon]

shut me up ;

20 | a day in the kaiser life

ft. kaiser & fem!reader, sae (mentioned)

cw. entire ch is from kaiser’s pov. suggestive, cussing, mentions of sex, descriptive make-out scenes, non-descriptive hints of past trauma

kaiser scrubbed the sleep from his face with his hand and rolled until his bare feet touched the expensive plush rug beneath his bed. it was pure white and a pain to clean, but one of the first things he bought when he started making enough money to buy things because he wanted to, not needed to.

he fought the instinctive urge to flinch when hands moved from his back to his shoulders to his neck. a soft purr left the woman behind him, reminding him where he was.

his room. his apartment.

kaiser exhaled and let the woman run her acrylics over his skin. “morning, handsome,” she cooed.

he didn’t remember her name—he hardly ever did—as most of the people he brought home were satisfied with whatever nickname he’d decided to call them the night before.

“i’m sorry, gorgeous,” he faked the disappointment in his voice as he turned to face the woman and pushed some of her messy black bob behind her unpierced ear. “i have a class in twenty minutes. i’ll call you when i’m available next and we can grab dinner.”

her face lit up. he didn’t have a class, and he wouldn’t be calling, but she didn’t have to know that.

kaiser shrugged on a pair of sweats and grabbed a black tee from his dresser. “feel free to hang out, but my roommate will be back in an hour.”

the woman jumped to her feet. “sorry, kaiser. you’re cute, but i don’t do roommates.” she turned her back to collect her things, completely missing his smug little grin. “text me?”

he let her press her gloss-sticky lips onto his and made her sigh with his tongue. “i’ll text.”

then she was gone, and kaiser flopped back onto his bed. he sighed, content with the quiet. he didn’t have class. he didn’t have a roommate. he didn’t even have the woman’s number and would tell her that if they ever ran into each other again. it always worked; a little frown and a kiss to the neck. “i’m sorry, sweetheart. i tried to call, but i lost your number.”

kaiser raised a fist and knocked against the wall behind his headboard once, expression unchanging when he didn’t receive a reply. he wasn’t expecting one to begin with, but couldn’t stop the habit he’d developed.

he had your schedule worked out by now. every morning, he would tap your wall to make sure, but it didn’t take him long to figure you were out of the apartment most hours of the day—work and school, he figured.

sighing, kaiser wrapped himself in his skewed comforter, lying across the bed on a diagonal, and promptly fell back asleep.

kaiser caught himself grinning in the reflection of his phone and immediately tensed. why was it so fun getting on your nerves? your threats were empty and made something in his chest stir in unfamiliar ways, and kaiser didn’t know how he felt about that.

tossing the device across the bed, kaiser ran a hand through his blond hair, the ends faded blue from the temporary dye, and dragged himself out of bed. he told sae he’d show up to practice, so even though he was fifteen minutes late, kaiser slipped his shoes on and locked his door behind him.

a scoff to his left caught his ear, causing him to lift his head. his grin returned when he spotted you standing in front of your door with folded arms.

you were dressed in your uniform, which didn’t make sense since you usually worked after school to save your evenings for homework. at least he assumed so, given your lack of response to the taps on your wall.

“working late?” kaiser teased as he approached you, allowing his eyes to drag up and down your frame. you huffed, face burning under his gaze in a way that made him feel victorious. he loved getting you mad, loved the way your blush always betrayed the little scowls and glares you shot his way.

you adjusted the company cap on your head. “got called in. so what?”

“nothing,” kaiser beamed smugly, twirling his keys on his finger. “we can take the elevator down together.”

you faked a gag at his offer. “i’d rather walk, thanks.”

he raised a brow. “down five flights of stairs?”

“i could use the exercise!”

the corner of kaiser’s lip tugged, revealing a flash of teeth. “i’ve got another form of exercise you might like a lot more.” your face turned cherry in, what, rage? kaiser was fighting the urge to laugh when you flashed a middle finger and stomped toward the emergency stairs.

before you could shove the door open, he stepped beside you and stuck his foot out to block the door. with the new position, he leaned so close he could smell your perfume. it was the same sweet scent you wore the night you broke into his apartment pretending to be his lover.

your lashes fluttered up at him, and kaiser nearly broke character. instead, he pressed a shoulder against the doorway and hummed. "take the elevator. i need to grab something from my room, anyway."

your brow arched in suspicion, but you didn't wait long before putting distance between you and pressing the down button. he heard a click as you hit the close doors button next, assuring he wouldn't jump on with you, and kaiser wiggled his fingers in goodbye as you very maturely stuck your tongue out at him.

kaiser waited until the number above the elevator glowed 1, revealing you made it to the ground floor, before pressing the down button for himself.

"what a waste," he smiled to himself as he stepped on and leaned against the far wall, picturing just how flustered you'd be trapped in an enclosed space with him. he scoffed, "annoying."

masterlist // previous (ch 19) // next (ch 21)

notes -> is yn really mad kaiser??? or r u dumb

tags -> @x3nafix @n0tbelle @nensi @ohagiyo @tired-child00 @melinana @chaoslibra @kaidostwin @bubybubsters @miss-aesthetic-13 @ihsoti @arwawawa2 @lonigiri @realrintaro @mivqko @sorasushik1 @pookalicious-hq @higuchislut @tofumiarchives @p1z-d0n7jud6em3 @rainychi2 @ch4rstxr @sapph1r3x @sagging-saging @5-laska @tuna-toes @seinuis @sindulgent666 @evilari111 @newinhalerpls @kisses2kanao @sugacor3 @meizumi @90s-belladonna @meowstertruck420 @kyutiipie @ranzess @cookiesandcreammy @nevvynev @stwberri @mikeymyfav @dontmindtheevie @kaikaidenkai @mizukiblogs @ravenbc @yvanllie @cyberasterrr @lily-isalittlegirl @yourlocaleffy @hanamatopoeia

© neeeooon, 2025

[rafesangelita]

what do you think would be in each !reader's bags?! <3

₊˚⊹♡ bambi!reader:

the queen of trinkets!! she carries a little sylvanian families’ figurine that reminds her of rafe, two little vials that contain the flowers rafe first picked for her, vanilla lipbalm, her favorite book, a jar full of buttons she swears up and down will come in handy one day (she’s always using them to replace the buttons on rafe’s shirts), change she’s found on the ground, necklace pendant that she lost the chain to, strawberry coin pouch that she ironically doesn’t put to use, earbuds, a little note rafe gave her from when they first started dating, hairbrush, brown floral hair pins, and perfume

₊˚⊹♡ pogue!sweetheart!reader:

lover of all things pink, she carries a pink compact mirror and pressed powder, a small notebook so she could write down orders for anyone who might ask, mini pink hair brush, strawberry shortcake flavored lip gloss (rafe’s personal fave), cardholder that rafe gifted her, cable lock to her camper (rafe is getting the actual lock on her door replaced soon), chocolate macaroon coin pouch she bought from the thrift, pink hairclips, sparkly nail polish, individually wrapped cookies that she gives out (despite rafe eating most of them), silver locket with a picture of her and rafe together <3, a rosary even though she’s not religious she keeps it bc the church she donated baked goods to gave it to her, a dollar folded in the shape of a heart that rafe made for her, vanilla perfume, and her favorite blush

₊˚⊹♡ kook!sweetheart!reader:

our chanel girly <3 she carries a digital camera that rafe can never escape from (he loves it), rhode lip treatment is a must have, small notebook so she could journal wherever she is (and repeatedly write rafe’s name in cursive with a heart at the end), black chanel headband that rafe randomly surprised her with, small makeup bag with all of her essentials, cuticle oil and hand cream so her mani’s always look fresh, polaroid of rafe bc she loves him soooo much, reading glasses, dior keychain (rafe got ‘sweetheart’ engraved on the back), bobby pins because she NEVER has a hair out of place, diy queen has a little altoids box wallet, mascara of course, and a hair bow!

₊˚⊹♡ farmer’s!daughter!reader:

this firecracker carries a pack of marlboro reds (they belong to rafe), her and rafe’s love letters when they had to hide their relationship from her daddy, heart shaped sunglasses of course, a vintage camera that she has no idea how the thing still works, her signature red lipstick, her red apple mascara that she swears by, peppermints because she’s an old soul at heart, a little mixtape that both her and rafe made together so they have something to listen to when they go on their evening drives, red nail polish, bottle caps from her and rafe’s first date, a multi-purpose pocket knife (she can never be too prepared), a wallet that’s older than her, cherry cola lipgloss, a pocket watch her dad gave to her, red gingham hair bow, her fav lana del rey cd (rafe also knows the lyrics word for word), and a box of matches.

₊˚⊹♡ latina!kook!reader:

our sweet angelita carries body glitter (which always ends up rubbing off on rafe), tropical scented perfume, floral hair clips, ALWAYS keeps a pair of sandals to change into when her heels become insufferable, a gifted dior wallet from rafe <3, a seashell that rafe picked up for her, fruity lipgloss, shimmery tanning oil and sunscreen (for rafe mainly lol), traditional fan, pink dior sunglasses, dior highlighter palette, various jewelry, SOMETIMES she’ll pack fruit for her and rafe to snack on when they on an impromptu beach date..

₊˚⊹♡ bitchy!kook!reader:

kildare’s very own regina george carries a powder puff, her signature eyeshadow palette, victoria’s secret card (rafe keeps it loaded at all times), vivienne westwood lighter (for when her and rafe have their little smoke sessions), poison dior perfume that rafe goes absolutely crazy for, dior lip oil, her lucky vintage chanel charm bracelet, touchland hand sanitizer, hair clips, black compact mirror, and a mini makeup bag.

₊˚⊹♡ bitchy!pogue!reader:

this mcbling queen carries her childhood ipod with all of the early 2000’s hits downloaded on it, some earbuds, a flip phone that she uses as her ‘work cell’ (rafe helped her bedazzle it), a hello kitty mirror so she could make sure her makeup is always looking fresh, hello kitty credit card (courtesy of rafe, of course), a stack of her own cash, fluffy tiara she keeps forgetting to take out of her purse, rhinestones she uses as body stickers, pink digital camera (rafe takes all of her insta pics with it), sunglasses she found at the thrift, a vape (she’s just a girl), sparkly lipgloss, and her favorite lashes.

₊˚⊹♡ sheep!reader:

the gentlest thing on kildare island carries a crochet case that she made by herself (she crochets on the golf cart while rafe and topper play on the course), a precious moments figurine, a small tub of cookies for the kids, lemon scented hand cream, patches that she still needs to sew on a pair of jeans, an envelope with rafe’s recent love letter (he writes them everyday and sends them through the mail to be ‘extra’ romantic), a calico critter that was gifted to you from one of the kids at the daycare center you volunteered at once, your fav pink teddy bear, homemade hair bow, a sun hat, and a strip of pictures rafe took at the mall.

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Cereal

Bucky Barnes x Single Mom! Reader

The Boy looks upon the many shelves of cereal. Some are bland, some are sugary, and others are healthy. Some have cartoon characters on the box, and many have real-life heroes. With all these heroes, he still couldn't find his. The boy sighed, his lips quivering. He wipes his eyes before his tears even begin to slip.

"Honey?" his mother called for him.

"He's not here," His voice shakes and tears spilling over.

"What do you mean?" she asked as she gently moved him to the side out of the way of after customers.

"H-he doesn't have o-one." He points to the shelves as he begins to cry. She tucks his face into her stomach as she takes a look at the shelves for herself. And her boy was right, his hero was not amongst those on the shelve.

"I'm sorry," she tried to rub his back, providing some comfort. " We'll look at different stores. Don't worry."

"No," he cried. This was the third store in a week, and they still hadn't found it. He was tired, and he knew they weren't going to find it. Frustratedly, he snatched off his prosthetic arm and tossed it down the aisle. ( Moments like this made her grateful she bought plastic).

"Absolutely not. We don't throw things." The round of gasps and how quickly the aisle emptied told her all she needed to know. They would not be making any purchases here today.

Wiping his tears, she stood up to retrieve the arm, only to find a man holding it.

"Excuse me, that's my son's." He was a tall, big man in a baseball cap, thick coat, and leather gloves. And in those gloved hands was her son's prosthetic.

He hands it to her, and she gives him a small thanks.

"How'd he lose it? If- If you don't mind me asking?"

She took a deep breath. This was going to go one of two ways. The educational route and she'd possibly teach this man something new or bashing route, and this man would get disrespectful, and she'd probably have to call security or the police.

"He didn't lose it. He was born without." She moved to her son, tucking him into her side. His cries had stopped, but his tears were still streaming.

"I ....there was an accident and lost mine." The man said, massaging his left hand. She didn't understand why he was telling them this. But she did appreciate him sharing a piece of him. " Why is he crying?"

"He has a favorite hero. He's like him, and we were trying to find his cereal or his snack or... just anything with him on it. We can't seem to find him anywhere."

"May I?" the man asked, motioning to her son, asking permission to approach him. She granted it and watched as he kneeled in front of her son, who was still tucked into her side. His tears had dried, and he seemed to be in ...awe?

It wasn't until the man removed his gloves, then cap, that she realized who he was, and she felt like an idiot. She had been researching this man with every free moment she had ever since her son declared him to be his favorite and just like him. And she couldn't tell the difference between him on stage and him in a baseball cap.

Embarrassing.

"Hi, my name is Bucky, what's yours?"

Her son whispered his name as he blushed. " That's a cool arm you got their bud."

"I have another one that's cooler. It has space on it," he said as his mother kneeled, putting it back on his elbow.

"That does sound cooler. Mine doesn't really have anything on it." Bucky said, pulling up his sleeve to show off his metal appendage. The son gasped in amazement as he stepped forward, his little fingers reaching and tracing the gold and black plates. The man watched him carefully as he touched and stayed very still.

She would have corrected her son's rude behavior any other time, but right now, with the awe on his face and the smile on Mr. Barnes's face, she didn't want to interrupt. Plus, she was as in awe as the fluorescent lights made it shine—both the arm and his smile.

"A friend made it for me. It's made of a special metal called vibranum."

"Like your friend's shield?" He whispered as he pulled away.

"Exactly," he whispered in return as he stood up. She stood up as well.

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes. That was very kind of you, and we really appreciate it."

Bucky is fine, Mrs?" he said.

"(Y/n), (Y/n) (L/n). No, Mrs. No husband," she regretted the words as soon as they came out of her mouth. But that didn't shut her up. " There is no one else. Just me. Just us."

Bucky gave a soft smile and nodded. " I'm sorry to hear that." He didn't look or sound sorry. "Listen, Um, I volunteer at this rehab for kids, and they have a lot of programs there, so if your son wanted, he could come join." Bucky pulled out a flyer from his pocket, unfolded it, and handed it over to her. It looked to be a place for physically disabled children.

"This looks nice, actually. Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem. My number is on the back if you need any help with the program or stuff. or just ... Want to hang out ." Bucky cringed on how that came, but she just smiled and laughed. She turned the flyer over to see his number was indeed on the back.

"Oh"

"Hopefully, I'll see you two there."

"Definitely, I mean, yes. We'll be there, won't we, buddy."

"Will you be there?" The boy asked.

"As long as the world doesn't need saving, I'm there every other afternoon."

"Hopefully, the world doesn't need saving when we come by." she teased.

"Even if it did, I'm sure the others could handle it on their own. I wouldn't leave a doll like you waiting."

Doll.

Doll. She didn't know how, but with a single word, the man nearly put her on her knees. Suddenly, her heart had quickened, and her legs were shaky. And the way he bit his lips after and looked her up and down. Was he trying to devour her with such a stare? When did the atmosphere change?

A little squeak brought them both back to reality and reminded them of their little audience. No flirting in front of the babies.

"We'll be there, Mr. B...Bucky. We'll be there." Taking her son's hand, she turned to leave before stopping and saying, " I'll call."

"I'm looking forward to it."

"Bye-bye," the boy waved to his hero with a big grin on his face. As he watched them walk away. His cereal crisis was long forgotten.

[deansbeer]

kari yaps. another dean blurb comin' ur way! 'cause i'm having WAY too much fun with writing 'em !!! originally, when this was sitting in my drafts, it was supposed t'be a full fic, but it wasn't coming out like i wanted it to, so i made it a blurb :p

warning(s) fluffy fluff fluff | implied shower sex | dean 'n his lil camera | reading gettin' a lil emotional. ୨୧

📖 JACKLES library.

DEAN WINCHESTER was never really a 'stuff' guy. his life was all about function over form, about practicality, especially when it came to hunting. but one day, on a whim—or maybe because he'd been thinking about it longer than he wanted to admit—he bought a camera. not just any camera, either, but a $5000, top-of-the-line DSLR that he told himself he'd use to take pictures of all the places he and sam traveled to when they were on hunts. you know, a way to document the life he lived beyond the blood and gore, something to look back on that wasn't just a blur of monster and mayhem.

he didn't tell you about it at first. the camera just kind of appeared one day, tucked inside his duffle, and when you asked him about it, he looked a little embarrassed. "just thought it'd be nice to take some pictures of the scenery," he said with a shrug, like it wasn't a big deal. and maybe to him, it wasn't. at least, not in the way you thought.

but instead of snapping pictures of the rundown motels and backroads they traveled for work, dean found himself using the camera for something else entirely.

it wasn't until the two of you went on a mini-vacation, a week-long stay at a beach resort that you'd been talking about for years, that he really started to use it. you love the beach—always have. there's something about the sound of the waves, the feel of the sand beneath your feet, the salty breeze tangling in your hair, that makes you feel calm. and dean, well, he loves seeing you that way. relaxed, happy, at peace. so while you were busy soaking in the sun, or wading into the water, or just staring off into the distance with that little smile on your face, he was busy capturing it all.

you didn't know, of course. dean was sneaky like that. he didn't make a big show of it, didn't tell you to 'pose' or 'smile.' he just… watched you, quietly, through the lens, snapping photos of you when you weren't paying attention. and when you finally did notice him with the camera, he'd flash you that cocky grin of his and say something like, "just taking pictures of the view."

a few days later, after one of those long, lazy showers you and dean sometimes took together (the kind that weren't just about getting clean, if you know what i mean), that you stumbled upon a little secret of his. he stayed back in the bathroom, washing off a little longer, and you were sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling that post-shower glow, when you noticed a small album tucked underneath a pile of clothes in his black duffle.

curious, you pulled it out, flipping through the pages, and your breath caught in your throat. it wasn't just pictures of random places he'd been on hunts. it was you. photo after photo of you. at the beach, of course, but also in moments you didn't even realize he'd been watching—laughing, lost in thought, maybe even sleeping. and the pictures weren't just good; they were stunning. like, they looked like something out of a magazine, the kind of photos you'd see in a vogue or some fancy travel magazine.

you couldn't believe he'd taken them.

before he could catch you snooping, you quickly put the album back where you found it, heart racing a little, and changed into your pajamas, trying to act like nothing had happened. but the pictures stayed on your mind, even as you and dean curled up in bed and ordered some room service to cap off the night.

after that, you never mentioned it to him. you didn't want to make a big deal out of it, though you kind of wanted to. instead, you found yourself sneaking the camera for your own little adventures. when dean was out or distracted, you'd pull it from his bag and take a few selfies, figuring out how to use the thing. at first, it was a little tricky—those cameras are no joke—but with a little patience, you got the hang of it. you never did anything scandalous, just some cute pictures of yourself, and then you'd put it back in its place before dean could notice it was gone.

and he never did. at least, not until one night in your shared apartment. you were in the kitchen, snacking on some chocolate-covered strawberries dean had picked up on his way home from a hunt (because, in his words, they reminded him of you), and you were nose-deep in a romance novel you'd been dying to read. you heard him walking down the hallway, but you didn't think much of it. you were too wrapped up in your book and your snack, the perfect cozy day in.

what you didn't realize was that dean had found out about your little secret. he'd been going through the camera, checking out some new shots he'd taken, when he stumbled upon your selfies. not just the recent ones, either—he found all of them.

so when he came into the kitchen, camera in hand, he wasn't mad. in fact, he had this look on his face—kind of amused, kind of in awe. "so, you've been stealing my camera, huh?" he asked, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

you looked up at him, mouth full of strawberry, and gave him your cheekiest smile. "maybe," you said.

he didn't mind, though. if anything, he seemed impressed that you'd managed to sneak past him without him noticing. but later that same night, as you were getting ready for bed, you noticed something on his bedside table—a second album, smaller than the one you'd found before.

curiosity piqued again, you opened it up, and what you saw made your heart melt. dean had taken all the photos from the other album and added more—your selfies, the pictures he'd taken of you, everything. but this time, he'd decorated the pages with little stickers and captions in his messy, but endearing, handwriting. things like 'my beautiful girl,' 'my little mermaid,' 'my baby going for a swim.'

tears welled up in your eyes as you flipped through the pages, overwhelmed by how sweet and thoughtful it all was.

before you could even process it fully, you felt dean's arms wrap around you from behind, his bare chest warm against your back. you turned around in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and peppering kisses all over his face. "you really did all this for me?" you asked softly.

he nodded, his expression soft and sincere. "yeah, baby. wanted somethin' to remember you by when i'm out on hunts. somethin' special."

he even told you that he kept one of your selfies in his wallet, and that he loved showing it off to anyone who'd listen—sam, other hunters, whoever. "you're my girl," he said, pride in his voice.

and you couldn't help but smile wide, knowing that, no matter where the road took him, DEAN WINCHESTER was always thinking of you.

… his pretty girl.