#Fiery Euphoria

[candylandphotos]

Fire Dancing Breathing Circus

"Ethereal Flames: The Enchanting Performance of Fire Dancing in a Breathing Circus."

[zestyatbest]

Here’s some cool bugs I found recently!

[kingkatsuki]

— the ties that bind

I just needed to get this out of my system, because after catching up to Wind Breaker I got this idea in my head and I just hope it makes some form of sense outside the horny.

Endo would offer anything to Takiishi to make him happy, including you.

Pairing: Endo Yamato x Takiishi Chika x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, angst, toxic!unestablished relationship, power dynamics if you really squint, threesome, one!sided feelings (on yours and Endo’s part), dirty talk, m!masturbation, fingering, double penetration (cock and fingers in your pussy at the same time), creampie, cum eating, cunnilingus.

Word Count: 2.4k.

You’re not even sure if Takiishi truly loves you, or whether you’re just another pawn in his sadistic game of chess. Manipulating you would be easy anyway when you’re so desperately in love with him.

“You’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” His thumb tugs at your bottom lip as you instinctively tilt your head, pathetically offering yourself to him as always. The option is his to take, his decision as always, “Anything.”

“Yes, Chika.” And perhaps he likes you because you always tell him exactly what he wants to hear.

Takiishi smiles at that and indulges you. Taking pity on you this time as he leans down to capture your lips in a fiery kiss, cradling your jaw in one of his palms as you feel yourself leaning into his touch. You like it when he’s like this— it allows you to trick yourself into thinking everything is copacetic.

“Is that good?” His lips curl into a smug grin against your lips. Already certain of the answer, though he’d never want you to lie to him.

And it is good, the lustrous euphoria that clouds your thoughts and leaves you in a delirious stupor. His balls are snug against the swell of your ass as he works to carve your cunt into the shape of his cock. Grinding against you as the coarse hairs at his base tickle your clit and have you clenching around him, sharp nails digging into the base of his skull as you pathetically writhe beneath him.

“Oh, fuck,” You sound out, chasing his lips. His mouth swallows the sound as he repeats the motion, delighting in the way your walls clench around his cock, “Chika.”

Takiishi pulls back to watch you now, drunk enough on the pleasure that crystalline tears clump in your thick lashes and your lips pout in a needy whine. The sight is completely debauched as he reaches out to palm one of your bouncing breasts, catching your nipple between his index and middle finger as he squeezes softly.

“You really are perfect, huh?” He continues, shaping his hand against the curve of your chest, grunting when you clench around him in response.

He’s like a drug, intoxicating and so damn addictive that you can’t stop yourself from coming back for another hit. His hands scorch your skin as he palms your breast, rutting into your warm cunt as his cock curves towards that sweet spot inside you.

He’s nothing like the man that everyone else gets to see, the strongest man in Furin's history. When you have him like this it’s easy to convince yourself that he’s something more— this soft side reserved just for you as he holds you in his arms and tells you he loves you. Except, he’d never say those words to you, would he?

“Told ya she was,” Endo smirks from behind you, and you’re brought back to your sickening reality.

It’s his fault you’re like this, after all.

“I thought she’d make you happy.” He scoffs, and you’re reminded of your stark reality, the real reason why you’re here, “I picked a good one, huh?”

Takiishi doesn’t answer, but instead gives another rough thrust into your tight cunt. Enough to have you crying out as Endo shamelessly flops down on his side onto the bed beside you, resting his head on his palm as he reaches out to pinch one of your taut nipples. His cock bounced from the movement as you noticed the globs of pre beading at the engorged tip, an angry pink that flushed down the length of him. Swollen balls, bulky and ready to give everything they’ve got to give to the man in front of you. Endo wrapped a calloused palm around his cock as he gave himself a lazy pump, smearing the opaline moisture along his length for lube as he pressed his thumb against his slit.

“She was a good choice.” Takiishi grunts, readjusting himself as he curls his hands beneath your thighs. Changing the angle as your walls clench around him, admiring the scars and welts that pucker against his chest.

And Endo delights in the praise, as though it was directed towards him. When the saccharine look in Takiishi’s eyes told otherwise— his softened irises almost convinced you that he cared.

It’s always been difficult to ascertain when he’s being deceptive but just as he enjoys playing this twisted game, you’ve started to play too. Like a pawn whose only task is to protect the king, you’ve set your pieces up to guard your heart. Terrified to admit to him how you feel, although you’re certain he can tell. He’s always been perceptive, after all.

“I’d do anything for you,” Endo continues stroking his cock, squeezing his palm around the girth of it, “You know that.”

And once again, that’s your stark reminder that none of this is real.

Takiishi had told you he cared for you before. One night below the stars when you were alone together, sharing a split bottle of whisky as you felt the breeze whip at your ankles. He’d only allow himself to be vulnerable when there was no one else around, no distractions. Or as vulnerable as Takiishi was capable of being, you supposed. But you wondered if he’d say the same to Endo when he was in the same position, all doe eyes and soft smiles as he cups your beating heart in a calloused fist and squeezes tight.

Endo always said Takiishi was a blazing inferno that consumes everything it touches indiscriminately, without a care for others. And that was probably why you’d both be going down in the blaze. Fooling yourself into believing that you would be able to avoid the fire when you should’ve known it was destroying you from the inside.

“You like that?” Takiishi murmured, “You like me fucking you into the shape of my cock?”

But maybe you were just as sadistic as them, indulging in the pain laced with such frivolity. Letting them use you however they see fit, under the guise that they actually care about you— that they love you.

“Yes,” You whined, trying feebly to match his pace. Wanting to prove to him that you were the right choice, that you’d do anything to make him happy. It disgusted you how much you’d bend your back to appease him, how much you were willing to give of yourself to receive next to nothing in return. You could only blame the pleasure clouding your mind for so much before the lusty fog cleared to a haze of realisation.

“Good girl.” He liked that answer, he always did.

Takiishi rewarded you with a particularly harsh thrust, as he pulled his hips back enough to drag his drenched cock from your silky depths before plunging it back in with a sudden rut.

“Her pussy sounds so fuckin’ wet.” Endo smirked at the lewd sound that filled the room, “She’s so noisy.”

“You always take me so well,” Takiishi murmured so softly, you’d mistake it for kindness. Smoothing a palm against your pelvis as he felt for his cock inside you.

“Yeah, and she likes it,” Endo scoffed, “Just look at her— you like being stuffed full, huh?”

He reached down to press two tattooed fingers against your puffy clit as you gasped in pleasure. Arching your back into his touch as Takiishi continued his rough pace, fucking you higher up the mattress from the ferocity of his thrusts as his red hair cascaded around him.

“Bet Chika’s stretching you out,” His fingers continued lower, spreading into a V on either side of Takiishi’s cock as they squeezed softly. The heel of his palm was now flat against your clit as you watched Takiishi’s eyes roll in pleasure, manicured nails digging into the plush of your thighs as he sought his high.

“This is the best gift yet, right Chika?” Endo grins, “Isn’t she the best gift?”

“Yeah,” Takiishi smiles down at you, and it has you falling even deeper, “You did good.”

Endo practically keened at the praise, a garbled sound akin to a whine slipped past his lips as slender hips bucked into his closed fist. And while Endo would say Takiishi is the king in this twisted game, you know him better. He’s like a rook, moving straight across the board to strike down every dispensable shield you’ve placed to guard your heart as he gets in through a hole in your defences.

“Fu-uck,” Endo groaned when he began to press two of his tattooed fingers into your warm, wet cunt above Takiishi’s cock. Feeling the stretch between your thighs as you writhed against tousled sheets, immediately clamping down in defence.

“Relax.” Takiishi smoothed a palm along your sternum, feeling the harsh doldrums of your heart as though on command you released the breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

Feeling Endo wiggle his fingers inside you with glee as the pair moved in tandem, calloused pads hitting the spongy spot inside you with each flick of his wrist as the blunt head of Takiishi’s cock carved your insides into the shape of him.

“You’re so big, Chika,” Endo continued, a groan vibrating low in his throat as he felt you tighten around him, “Are you gonna cum?”

The question wasn’t directed at you but the coil inside you wound tight, leaving you teetering on the edge of your bliss as you waited for something to have you free-falling.

“Shit,” Takiishi rasped, practically curled over you as his hips jerked, his pace faltering as he felt the pleasure building between his thighs.

“Fuck,” Endo growled, a toothy smile spread against his cheeks as he pressed harder against your g-spot, “Fuckin’ cum for me.”

It wasn’t directed at you, but the command had you convulsing, dipping into a high crescendo as you met your climax. Your walls fluttered around the two men as pleasure consumed you. White spots blurred your vision as you barely made out the feeling of Endo ripping his fingers from your warm cunt and moving his hand, still soaked with your slick, to Takiishi’s heavy balls. Moulding them beneath his fingers as he worked to push him over the edge, sitting up on the mattress to get a front-row seat at the debauched view in front of him.

Takiishi was wordless as he came, a guttural grunt forced from deep in his chest the only sound as he fisted the sheets on either side of you. Endo’s hand still milking his balls as he pumped white, hot spurts of cum inside your spent cunt, coating your velvety walls with his release.

“You’re so pretty when you cum.” Endo cooed, watching as Takiishi pulled out of your pulsing hole. His cock glistened with your essence as you left creamy pearlescent rings around the base of his cock.

Takiishi pulled back to assess the gape he’d left between your thighs, watching your hole pulse as it pushed some of his spend out of your abused hole. His cock bobbed in the air as he readjusted himself, reaching out to swipe two fingers against your messy folds to push his load back inside you. Offering the digits to you after as he smoothed them against your glossy lips like a man offering someone a chance to sample the sweetest ambrosia. And you took it gratefully, rolling your tongue around his fingers as you tasted the bitterness of him.

“Clean her up,” Takiishi commanded, pulling his spit-soaked fingers from your mouth as he wiped them against the side of your cheek, “Then you can have my cock.”

Endo gave his cock a final tug before moving his sticky hands to your thighs. Slipping his palms beneath the curve of your knees to manhandle you roughly, as though you were nothing more than a doll. And in reality, that’s exactly what you were— a toy for them to play with when they both got bored.

Your aching thigh held upright as he pushed your ass in the air, your back off the mattress as he pressed the flat of his tongue along your creamy slit. Collecting the cum that your fluttering walls had pushed out of you that drooled down towards your asshole as he cleaned you up.

“You taste so good,” He groaned, greedily pushing his tongue inside your stretched hole to slurp at the mixture Takiishi left behind as his nose nudged your overstimulated clit.

It wasn’t for your pleasure, it rarely was when it came to Endo and yet he still managed to have your eyes rolling back in a matter of minutes as you trashed against the dirty sheets.

Takiishi sat back to watch like he always did, his cock still half-hard and glistening with your slick. Just another part of the vicious cycle that you found yourself in, match after match in a sick game where he always came out as the victor.

Your hand flew out to card through Endo’s messy hair when you felt his teeth nip at your folds in his urgency, crying out as he shot you an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, baby,” He cooed, his voice laced with condescension, “I thought you could handle it.”

This wasn’t for your pleasure, it was for his. And yet he still had the coil inside you snapping as he forced you into another gratifying climax. Crying out as your entire body shook from the intensity, your nails stretching against his scalp as he pulled away with glee. Your juices drooled down his chin as he looked to Takiishi, not to you.

“It’s my turn now, yeah?” Endo licked his lips with glee, shamelessly ogling Takiishi’s cock, “You can fuck me, if you want—”

And once again you were reminded of the real reason why you were here, why Endo had picked you in the first place. Another twisted idea is to try and give Takiishi the best time of his life. To prove his love and devotion to a man who would never give him the same kind of reward.

The cloudy lust-filled haze that shrouded your mind now transforms into an almighty storm that has thunder and lightning crashing down around you. Ruining the perfect fantasy you’d concocted and convinced yourself was real.

For now, you were just another player in their sick and twisted game. Because they both want everything from you, but they give you nothing in return.

[muzansslxt]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

tartilgaxreader

summary: Childe grows tired of your avoidance towards him and decides to teach you a lesson ;)

warnings: mature themes, MINORS DNI

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You had been avoiding Childe like an illness all week and oh was he fucking pissed about it.

But finally, by the grace of the gods themselves it seemed, you agreed to come over.

Maybe you were nervous to see Childe, whatever it was he had grown tired of the cat and mouse game.

He wanted you now, wanted you so fucking bad he could practically taste your cunny on his tounge.

And there you were in his home, finally.

Fuck.

He knew it was wrong, knew it was so wrong but did he care? No. No he fucking didn’t.

That’s why he had you pressed into his mattress, ass up while he mercilessly plunging his thick length into your greedy cunt.

One hand had a firm grip on your hair, shoving your face into his pillows harshly.

The other was tugging and playing with your puffy clit, already sore and aching from his brutal treatment.

Your lungs were screaming for air, the pillow blocking your mouth, muffled moans and crys danced to his ears and he grunted in satisfaction.

“You fucking bitch..hah..thinkin you can play around with me? Huh?” He sneered, his tip bullying itself against your cervix.

Your vision was getting spotty, no matter how loud you tried to scream it wasn’t loud enough.

Suddenly he pulled your body flush against his chest, you gasped and nearly chocked on the sudden rush of oxygen that filled your lungs.

Tears were already rushing down your cheeks, a sob wrenched out of your mouth and you swore you felt him get harder inside of you.

“Please s-stop.” You whimpered, a hoarse cry leaving your lips and he slapped your clit.

You flinched, trying to curl in on yourself but Childe had moved his hand to the base of your throat and squeezed warningly.

He shushed you with a gentle tone but picked up his pace, balls slapping your sweat soaked skin and his hold on your neck tightening ever so slightly.

“Please.” You tried again, sobbing uncontrollably as your insides felt like they were on fire, your tits bounced in rhythm with his thrusts.

“You brought this on yourself y/n. I’m a patient man but you’ve played one to many games with me.” He growled lowly in your ear.

Your body began to feel tingly, your skin crawling with the building euphoria that pooled in your lower tummy.

You were so close and Childe knew it.

Your insides began to hug around his length tightly, each of your slippery rings holding his cock hostage inside of you made his balls swell with an undeniable urge to cum.

“M’sorry.” You managed to mewl out, drool began pooling outside of your mouth but the blissful pleasure hitting your body sweetly made you care less.

Childe rumbled a low chuckle through his chest which vibrated against your back deliciously, it felt as though every nerve through out your body was burning for release.

“So close..” You managed to whisper as Childes pace grew slower, and slower.

“Oh really?” He cooed in a teasing tone, his teeth grazing along your shoulder before placing a small kiss on the crook of your neck.

You nod pleadingly while your cunt began to throb in an almost painful manner, silently screaming at you for its release.

“You hurt my feelings y/n, I’ve missed you this whole week and you continued to avoid me. You wound me you know, why would you hide from me?” He murmured while running his hands over your breasts, nipples hard as rocks under his warm fingers.

A shiver ran through your body as you felt his cock rub along your swollen bundle of nerves.

Your mind was clouded with lust and a fiery need for Childes length plunging back into your dripping cunny.

“I w-was busy with training, and I’ve just been so tired. I didn’t want to disappoint you.” You whimpered back softly.

Childe was silent for a moment, his lips pressed gently to your neck before trailing over your shoulders.

“You could never disappoint me.” He murmured while his warm hands glided down to your waist.

His lips continued to pepper your skin softly before his cock abruptly slammed its way inside of you.

A fiery pain coursed through your vains, making you cry out in such a sweet manner it nearly made Childe cum.

“Although you could never disappoint me y/n, I do enjoy thoroughly punishing you.” He growled lowly as he began to rut himself deep in the warm embrace of your cunny.

“Baby- Please- h-ho fuck.” You whined out, the knot in your tummy burned deliciously as Childe continued to grip your hips tightly, his eyes glued to the lewd expressions your face made.

“Touch yourself for me.” He cooed lowly, leaning his head down so he could be even closer to you. His pace had grown sloppy and you knew he was ready to burst.

Your hand shyly traveled between your legs to the sweet bundle of nerves that practically begged to be touched, rubbing your clit in gentle circles your breath quickened.

“Look at me when you cum y/n.” He groaned while sweat began beading along his ginger hairline, the sight was enough for you to arch up into him and release around his length.

“Oh gods.” You breathed as pure euphoria ripped through your body, your face was enough to send Childe over the edge, who promptly dumped his seed deep inside of you.

All was quiet for a moment except the both of your laboured breaths filling the room, your body tingled sweetly as you turned your head to look at your lover.

Childe smirked at you for a moment before reaching his hand over your waist to pull you flush against his own body “We’re not done yet y/n.” He purred lowly, hand already reaching for your overstimulated cunny.

“Your punishments just getting started~”

[vhagarys]

forgive me

aemond x wife!reader

summary: his lady wife summons him to the throne room. the last thing he expected was you sat atop the iron throne.

warnings: as this is a fic written by yours truly, SMUT, oral, masturbation, defiling of iron throne, exhibitionism

MDNI

“well, what do we have here, hm?” aemond couldn’t believe the sight before him.

his deep green riding jacket smothered your small figure. he knew you had on only your sheer, beige night slip underneath. but no, it’s where you sat that directed his attention.

your luscious silver curls and soft features were a stark contrast to the menacing, iron chair you seated yourself.

his wife possessed a teasing nature. it’s one of the reasons he adored you. he always indulged in your jests, delighting in your efforts to provoke a laugh from him.

though, you’d certainly outdone yourself on this night.

the act of anyone besides the king sitting on the throne was highly inappropriate, borderline treasonous.

following his brothers tragic accident, aemond had accepted role as prince regent. he was quite taken with his newfound role as ruler of the realm. the power, the authority he so desperately craved was now in the palm of his hand.

though, such authority didn’t seem to extend to his lady wife.

“warming my seat for me, are you ābrazȳrys?,” (wife) he teased, a smile etched on his face as he admired you from the bottom of the steps.

“pay mind to how you address me, my lord,” your eyes filled with mischief.

you felt his eyes drink in your appearance and you briefly felt a bit sheepish under his scrutiny.

suddenly feeling too exposed, you attempted to subtely adjust his jacket to cover your legs, the action not going unnoticed by your lord husband.

“forgive me, your grace,” he played along, bowing his head as he stood at the foot of the iron throne.

you cleared your throat, determined to maintain your regal persona. “i required your presence immediately. you have committed grave offenses this evening which cannot go unpunished.”

the feeling of sitting atop the icy chair sent a chill up your spine. the heady sensation of claiming yourself on the most coveted seat in the realm clouded your mind.

i can see why he enjoys this, you mused to yourself.

“may I ask which crime I am to answer for, your holiness?” aemond cocked his head, barely containing his smirk.

his bold little wife never failed to keep him on his toes.

“you arrived quite tardy to supper. even more so, you failed to greet me with a proper kiss upon your arrival. tsk, I believe I could have your head for this my lord.”

you felt yourself become more submerged in your role, any trepidations for your actions long gone.

with a bolt of confidence, you held his gaze while you slowly uncrossed your legs, revealing your bare center to him.

his eyes darkened at the sight of you, he could practically smell your arousal from where he stood.

so this is how we’re playing tonight, aemond felt himself stiffen in his breeches as he ascended a step toward you.

you may have started this game, but you both knew he would finish it.

“i’m deeply sorry, your grace. allow me to beg forgiveness for my wrong doings. anything you require.” his mind swirled with thoughts of taking you, perching you on his lap and filling your womb with seed on the throne.

you reveled in the predatory, lustful gaze of your husband. the most powerful man in the seven kingdoms at your mercy. or so you thought.

“i suppose there is a way to repent your crimes,” you reached for the first button and began to slowly release them one by one, revealing your hardened buds poking through your slip.

you might have been worried of someone else entering, but the euphoria of witnessing the effect you had on your husband clouded your better judgement.

unfastening the remaining button, you stood gracefully and let the fabric pool at your feet.

you were no targaryen. however aemond knew the fiery blood of the dragon coursed through your veins. no other lady of the court would play this dangerous game, would speak to him with such boldness.

he craved to taste you. he craved to grab at your soft flesh and indulge in the nectar between your legs.

the coolness of the metal seeped though your thin nightgown as you reclaimed your spot on the throne. your legs spread just wide enough you knew he could see the wetness seeping from your core.

daringly, your fingers floated down to your center. you began to rub circles on your clit, your lips parted as arousal fueled your fingers to continue.

he knew what you wanted, and was more than happy to oblige.

slowly and methodically, aemond approached you. meeting his lustful gaze, you watched as he lowered himself to his knees in front of you.

“may I, your grace?” he whispered, you could do nothing but nod as his fingers slowly ran up your exposed leg. his touch searing into your skin, you unconsciously spread your legs wider.

large hands roughly gripped the back of your knees, a low growl was all you heard before he dragged his warm, wet muscle through your dripping folds.

“gods,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt more arousal drip from your center and onto his devilish tongue.

“fuck you taste heavenly,” he drawled, suckling at your entrance, you gasped.

he set an unforgiving rhythm devouring your cunt.

lost in the throes of pleasure, your hands found purchase in his silver strands, tugging desperately whenever he applied pressure to your pearl.

if you weren’t disoriented by the assault on your cunny, you may have reddened at how quickly you could feel the coil in your belly about to snap.

“p-please my love. i’m close,” you begged, long forgetting the domineering facade you fabricated earlier.

fuck, you sound so pretty when you beg, his member hardened painfully watching your eyes fill with tears.

only sparing a moment away from your cunt, he commanded, “such a good girl for asking. go on, make a mess for me.”

with a final flick of his tongue, you cried out as you came undone. your body spasmed as the waves of your peak flowed through you.

soon, your body went limp and were close to falling back onto the swords behind you before you were scooped up by your husband.

draping his jacket over your frame, he quickly brought you to your shared chambers, making sure no eyes were present in the corridors.

lowering your body onto the bed, you were instantly met with fluffy blankets and you sighed in content.

expecting your husband to join you, you opened your eyes only to find him completely bare, looming over the bed. seeing him in all of his glory always seemed to stir something within you.

“i hope I am forgiven for my misdeeds from earlier?” you nodded.

he grinned and looked down to trace the patterns on the bed sheet, “do you think we are through, little wife? you didn’t think I would punish you for that little stunt you pulled?”

he grabbed your ankle and swiftly dragged you to the foot of the bed.

stunned by his sudden roughness, words escaped you as he grasped you by the chin and whispered “va ry izula, sir.”

(on all fours,now)

another mind dump of aemond, surprise surprise ;)

- alice

[rafemotherfuckingcameron]

DRUNK GIRLFRIEND

Word Count: 1.3K

Pairing(s): Rafe x Reader

Warnings: Drinking, Blowjob

Summary: Reader is a funny/horny drunk

When you and Rafe entered the party, you were immediately greeted by a whirlwind of activity. To your left, groups of friends gathered around makeshift beer pong tables, their laughter and friendly banter filling the air. To your right, the heart of the room pulsed with the rhythmic movements of dancers lost in the music, their bodies swaying in sync with the pulsating beats. 

"What do you want to drink?" Rafe asked, his arm wrapping around your waist as the vibrant pulse of the party surrounded you both. "Something with lemonade in it, please," you replied, leaning in to kiss his lips softly, a smile dancing on your own.

Together, you navigated through the lively throngs of guests, making your way to the kitchen where the air was thick with the scent of alcohol and excitement. As you entered, you were greeted by the sight of Topper and Sarah engaged in a spirited round of shots.

"Y/n! You're here!" Sarah's voice rang out above the din, her excitement palpable as she rushed over to envelop you in a warm hug, her laughter echoing in the bustling room.

"Yes, I'm here, and you're drunk," you playfully teased, gently pointing out Sarah's tipsy state as she pulled you closer to the shots with a grin plastered on her face. With a laugh, she shrugged off your observation, her enthusiasm undiminished as she handed out the shots.

"Two shots to start the night," Sarah declared, passing two to you and two to Rafe, who met your gaze with a mischievous smirk. Without hesitation, he downed both shots in rapid succession, his expression unfazed by the fiery burn of the tequila. Inspired by his boldness, you followed suit, the sharp taste of the alcohol leaving a lingering warmth in your chest.

"Still don't like tequila," you admitted with a wince, pushing the empty shot glasses back towards Sarah as Rafe draped an arm over your shoulders, his touch sending a shiver of warmth down your spine.

With a tender kiss pressed to your cheek, he whispered, "Let's dance, babe," his voice a gentle invitation as he led you away from the crowded kitchen and into the heart of the dance floor.

As the infectious beat of "Despacito" filled the air, you melted into Rafe's embrace, your arms winding around his neck as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. With playful abandon, you peppered his skin with soft kisses, the heat of your breath mingling with the faint scent of his cologne.

His hands roamed your body with a confident touch, guiding your hips as you danced in sync. The sensation of his body against yours sent a shiver of pleasure coursing through you, with each grind of your hips against his, you could feel him hardening under you. 

As he trailed his hand from your ass to your neck, his touch sending sparks of arousal racing down to your core, you couldn't help but smile against his lips.

"I feel so refreshed when I put my lips on you… you're like an ice-cold drink on a hot summer's day," you murmured, your words laced with playful affection as you deepened the kiss, your tongue intertwining with his in a fight for dominance.

He chuckled softly against your lips, the sound vibrating through you like a gentle caress. Pulling away slightly, he captured your lower lip between his teeth, teasing it gently before releasing it with a playful nip. "You're so funny when you're drunk," he laughed, his eyes sparkling with warmth and adoration as he gazed down at you.

After a few hours of dancing, Rafe made his way towards a cluster of chairs where his friends were gathered. With a contented smile, he sank into the seat, his body pleasantly buzzing from the euphoria of the night.

As they shared anecdotes and laughter, time seemed to slip away, the moments melting into one another in a blissful haze of camaraderie. However, amidst the easy banter of his companions, Rafe's attention was suddenly drawn to a murmur rippling through the crowd.

Curious, he pushed through the people, his pulse quickening with anticipation as he caught wind of whispers suggesting that his girlfriend was on the verge of taking her bra off.

With a mixture of amusement and concern, Rafe pushed through the sea of bodies until he caught sight of the scene unfolding before him.

There, atop the pool table, his girlfriend danced with carefree abandon, her movements sexy and suggestive as she twirled and spun, her laughter ringing out like a melody in the crowded room. Despite the flicker of amusement that danced in his eyes, Rafe knew he couldn't let the situation escalate any further.

"Y/n, come down from there," Rafe called out, his tone firm yet laced with affection as he approached the pool table. However, his request was met with a playful protest as his girlfriend insisted she was having fun and urged him to join her.

With a fond shake of his head, Rafe gently but firmly lifted her off the pool table, her protests melting into laughter as he swung her over his shoulder. As she tugged at his shirt, her fingers travelled down his toned body, sending a spark of desire within her, Rafe couldn't help but chuckle at her playful antics.

With a soft sigh, he carried her away from the crowd, the sounds of the party fading into the background as he pushed open the bathroom door, as he gently set her down.

Their eyes met in a silent exchange “Did you like my dancing?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of playfulness as her hands slid up to rest on his biceps. Her touch sent a shiver of desire racing down his spine, igniting a flicker of longing within him as he gazed down at her.

With a tender smile, Rafe brushed a stray lock of hair away from her face, his fingers tracing the curve of her cheek with gentle reverence. "I always love watching you dance," he confessed, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity. "But right now, all I want is you.”

As Rafe closed the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you. Your bodies melted into each other, the heat of his touch sending shivers racing down your spine, you found yourself trailing your hands down to his belt.

You undid the buckle, your fingers fumbling slightly in your haste as the belt loosened beneath your touch, you slid it out of the loop. Eager to suck his cock, you grasped his cock and started pumping him.

Rafe unclipped your bra with one hand, and you took it off, while making your way down to your knees. His veiny cock staring at you in the face, you stuck out your tongue out and licked a long stripe from top to bottom. “Don’t tease me” he said coming to play with your breast, kneading your nipple between his fingers. 

You take him into your mouth, bobbing your head making his cock reach the back of your throat, “taking me so well baby” he encouraged.

You paid most of your attention to his tip sucking and slurping on him, he threw his head back in pleasure. You could tell he was close when he started to swell inside your mouth.

You bobbed harder and he came in your mouth, feeling hot cum ropes hit the back of your throat, you took him out of your mouth and placed his cock between your breasts, milking the rest of him until he emptied out.

“Fuck thats so hot baby” he moans out. He grabs her my her waist hoisting her up, liking his release clean from her. 

“Your turn baby!!”

Taglist:

@anonymouscameron @ilovethekookprince @rafecameronsgirfriend

[nayziiz]

Winner | CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (she/her)

Warnings: Smut, fluff, praise kink, size kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

Carlos's heart pounded with adrenaline as he surged ahead, the roar of the engine drowning out the crowd's cheers. He had waited for this moment, trained for it relentlessly, and now, as he soared past the faltering leader, the taste of victory was tantalizingly close.

But even in the midst of his triumph, a small voice of caution whispered in his mind. He knew all too well the unpredictable nature of motorsport, the countless variables that could turn a seemingly certain win into bitter disappointment. It was this awareness, this ability to remain rational in the face of intense emotion, that had often set him apart on the track.

As he navigated the twists and turns of the circuit, his mind raced along with his car. He analyzed every corner, every potential pitfall, constantly adjusting his strategy to stay ahead of the competition. Despite his hot-headed nature, there was a methodical precision to his driving, a calculated aggression that made him a force to be reckoned with.

But then, just as victory seemed within his grasp, disaster struck. A sudden jolt, a grinding noise from the engine, and Carlos's heart sank. The mechanical gremlins that had plagued the previous leader had now found their way into his own car, threatening to derail his dreams.

In that moment, the fiery temper that lay dormant beneath Carlos's cool exterior flared to life. Frustration and anger bubbled up within him, threatening to consume his rationality. He pounded his fists against the steering wheel, cursing the cruel twist of fate that had robbed him of his chance at glory.

But even as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him, a calm resolve settled over Carlos. He knew that losing his temper now would only compound his misfortune. With steely determination, he forced himself to focus, to push aside the frustration and channel his energy into finding a solution.

With a series of quick adjustments and some expertly timed maneuvers, Carlos managed to nurse his ailing car across the finish line, clinching victory by the narrowest of margins. As he stepped out of the cockpit to the deafening roar of the crowd, there was no trace of the anger that had threatened to consume him moments before. Instead, there was only the triumphant smile of a racer who had faced adversity head-on and emerged victorious.

As she stood in the garage, eyes fixed on the screen displaying the unfolding drama on the track, a sense of déjà vu washed over her. It was as if time had folded back upon itself, transporting her to another moment, another race, another victory.

Singapore. The memory flooded her mind with vivid clarity. The thrill of watching Carlos tear through the night, the elation as he crossed the finish line first, the overwhelming rush of emotion that had followed. She could still feel the electricity in the air, the palpable excitement that had enveloped them all as they celebrated his triumph.

And now, as she watched him once again poised on the brink of victory, that same sense of anticipation crackled in the air. If this race unfolded as she hoped, if Carlos once again emerged triumphant, she would gladly join him in releasing that pent-up adrenaline, in reveling in the euphoria of success.

She could already imagine the scene: the champagne spraying, the cheers ringing out, the infectious joy radiating from Carlos as he basked in the glow of his accomplishment. And she would be right there beside him, sharing in his moment of glory, savoring every second of the celebration.

As the final moments of the race ticked away, her heart raced in time with the cars on the screen. Victory was tantalizingly close now, just within reach. And if history repeated itself, if Carlos crossed that finish line first once again, she would be ready to join him in letting loose the floodgates of exhilaration, to savor the sweet taste of success together.

As Carlos basked in the glow of his first win of the season, the atmosphere in the paddock crackled with excitement and jubilation. Cheers echoed through the air, champagne flowed freely, and the buzz of media activity filled every corner.

But amidst the celebrations and post-race obligations, Carlos couldn't shake the longing to find her, to share this moment of triumph with the one person who mattered most to him. After his fleeting moment on the podium, he sought her out, eager to revel in their victory together.

With the door securely locked behind them, Carlos felt the weight of anticipation settle in the air like a charged current. He stood for a moment, savoring the thrill of the moment, the hunger building within him like a predator poised to strike.

In the dim light of the driver's room, he could see her silhouette, a tantalizing figure bathed in the soft glow of victory. He could almost taste the adrenaline that lingered on her skin, mingling with the heady scent of his own cologne, sweat, and the remnants of champagne from their celebration.

She remained still, a silent beacon drawing him closer with each passing moment. There was a knowing in her stance, a silent invitation for him to take the lead, to guide their movements with a primal urgency that mirrored the intensity of their shared desire.

With a predatory grace, Carlos closed the distance between them, his movements deliberate and purposeful. There was no need for words in this moment, no need for hesitation. They both understood the silent language of desire, the unspoken connection that bound them together in this private sanctuary of intimacy.

As he reached her side, he allowed himself to drink in the sight of her, to revel in the magnetic pull that drew them together. And then, with a hunger that bordered on desperation, he claimed her neck in a searing kiss, igniting a firestorm of passion that consumed them both in its fierce embrace.

“Hands behind your back, baby,” Carlos directed her, his words laced with a raw intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

Without hesitation, she complied, clasping her hands behind her back as he had instructed. As she surrendered to his command, he couldn't help but feel a surge of power coursing through him. There was something undeniably intoxicating about the way she willingly relinquished control, placing her trust entirely in his hands.

He watched her closely, his gaze lingering on the sight of her bound wrists, a potent symbol of her submission to his desires. It was a rare and beautiful sight, seeing her yield so completely to him, allowing him to take the reins and guide their shared passion to new heights.

“You did so well, baby,” she murmured, her voice finally finding its way through the haze of desire that enveloped them.

“I know,” he replied with a cocky smirk, his confidence radiating like a palpable force. “Turn around, cariño.”

Without a moment's hesitation, she acquiesced, turning to face him with a mixture of anticipation and excitement. As she shifted, she felt the heat of his body pressing against hers, his hands finding purchase at her waist before trailing down to her hips, pulling her irresistibly closer to him.

With each breath, the air between them crackled with electricity, a potent mixture of desire and anticipation that seemed to hang in the air like a tangible force. She could feel the heat of his gaze boring into her, igniting a fierce firestorm of longing deep within her core.

As their bodies melded together, every touch, every caress sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her veins, setting her aflame with a need that bordered on desperation. In that moment, there was nothing else in the world but the two of them, locked in a passionate embrace that transcended time and space.

With a soft gasp, she leaned into him, her body arching against his in silent invitation. And as their lips met in a searing kiss, she knew with a certainty that bordered on certainty that this moment, this connection, was something truly special

“Keep your hands back there, okay?” Carlos reminded her, his voice low and commanding.

“Yes, baby,” she responded obediently, her breath hitching with anticipation.

With deliberate care, Carlos knelt before her, his movements slow and deliberate as he reached for the zipper of her black satin skirt. His touch was gentle, reverent almost, as he teased the fabric apart, inch by tantalizing inch.

Normally, in the heat of the moment, Carlos's passion could sometimes lead to clothing casualties—ripped zippers, broken buttons—but tonight was different. Tonight, he took his time, savoring the thrill of anticipation as he slowly undid the fastenings, each movement a delicious torment that left her trembling with desire.

As the fabric pooled at her feet, he looked up at her with a hunger that mirrored her own, his eyes dark with desire.

“You're going to be quiet, right, cariño?” Carlos's voice held a hint of playful warning, his gaze locking with hers.

“I'll try but I make no promises,” she replied, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes. A smirk tugged at the corners of Carlos's lips as he heard her response.

“That's right, you love making noise for me, don't you?” He teased, his tone laced with a mixture of amusement and desire. Her breath caught in her throat at his words, a flush creeping up her cheeks as she nodded in agreement.

“Yes, baby,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breathless murmur.

“Then let's see just how quiet you can be, shall we?” Carlos leaned in closer, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered.

As her underwear slipped down her legs and pooled at her ankles, Carlos wasted no time in discarding them entirely, his focus solely on the woman before him. With a hunger that burned bright in his eyes, he trailed soft, featherlight kisses along the tender flesh of her thighs, each caress igniting a firestorm of sensation that raced through her veins.

The gentle touch of his lips against her skin was enough to elicit a shiver of pleasure, her breath hitching in her throat as she surrendered to the exquisite torture of his ministrations. Without conscious thought, she spread her legs ever so slightly, a silent invitation for him to explore further.

His hands, warm and possessive, roamed freely over the smooth expanse of her thighs, tracing delicate patterns that sent ripples of pleasure coursing through her body. A soft moan escaped her lips as she threw her head back, lost in the intoxicating sensation of his touch.

“You remember the safe word?” Carlos's voice was firm, tinged with concern as he sought reassurance.

“Yes, baby,” she replied, her tone steady and unwavering.

“And, you'll stop me if it gets too much,” he pressed, his gaze searching hers for any hint of hesitation.

“Yes, baby,” she affirmed, her voice carrying a note of confidence.

“Are you certain?” His question hung in the air, a final plea for confirmation.

“You know what I like and I know my limits,” she assured him, her conviction unwavering.

“What's the safe word, baby?” Carlos's voice softened slightly, a gentle reminder of the trust that bound them together.

“Chili,” she replied without hesitation, her voice steady and sure.

“Good girl,” Carlos murmured, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he leaned in to press a tender kiss against her thigh.

The subtle defiance in her backchat ignited a primal fire within Carlos, fueling his desire to possess her completely. With each playful exchange, his arousal surged, his cock growing harder with each passing moment.

With a predatory gleam in his eyes, Carlos teased her with the lightest touch of his index finger, tracing delicate patterns along the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. He reveled in the way her breath hitched in response, her body responding eagerly to his every touch.

Despite the lingering soreness from their passionate encounter the night before, she was still wet and ready for him, her arousal evident in the way her slickness coated his fingers. He savored the sensation, his cock throbbing with anticipation as he explored the depths of her desire.

“You'll stop me, cariño?” Carlos's voice held a note of urgency, his gaze locked with hers as he sought confirmation of her consent.

Though she struggled to find her voice amidst the onslaught of pleasure coursing through her, she made sure to meet his gaze with a firm nod, her eyes speaking volumes where words failed her.

Encouraged by her silent affirmation, Carlos continued his ministrations, teasing her entrance with his finger before pressing into her with deliberate intent. A soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips at the exquisite sensation of him filling her, her body responding eagerly to his touch.

Despite their previous escapades, she remained wonderfully tight, her arousal evident in the way she welcomed him with a fierce hunger that matched his own. With practiced skill, he found her clit with his thumb, the throbbing bundle of nerves already swollen and sensitive under his touch.

As he began to rub circles over her clit, her breath caught in her throat, her body arching instinctively towards him in silent plea for more. With each tantalizing stroke, he felt her arousal building, her desire spiraling higher and higher until she teetered on the edge of ecstasy, on the brink of surrendering herself entirely to the pleasure he offered.

Feeling her hands instinctively reaching out to him, Carlos paused his motions, a subtle reminder of the boundaries they had agreed upon. With a firm but gentle tone, he issued his command once more.

“Hands behind your back,” he instructed, his voice laced with authority as he sought to regain control of the situation.

Despite the surge of desire coursing through him, Carlos remained steadfast in his resolve, determined to honor the trust she had placed in him. He watched closely as she complied, her movements slow and deliberate as she obeyed his command.

As her hands found their place behind her back once more, he felt a surge of pride swell within him, a testament to the strength of their connection and the unwavering trust they shared. And with a renewed sense of purpose, Carlos resumed his motions, his touch igniting a fierce firestorm of pleasure that consumed them both in its fiery embrace.

As she gulped, a sense of frustration mingled with anticipation washed over her, the memory of her orders echoing in her mind. The desire to reach out and touch him, to feel his warmth beneath her fingertips, burned fiercely within her, but she knew that patience was key.

With each passing moment, the longing to feel his touch, to intertwine their bodies in a symphony of passion, intensified. But she held firm, reminding herself of the promise that lay just beyond her restraint.

She knew that eventually, he would grant her permission to touch him, to explore every inch of his skin with the same fervor that he showed her. And when that moment came, when she felt his hands upon her once more, she knew that it would all be worth it—the frustration, the restraint, the anticipation—everything would pale in comparison to the ecstasy of their shared embrace.

As Carlos continued his relentless assault on her clit, his movements alternating between teasing and pumping, she felt her arousal building to dizzying heights. With each stroke, each thrust of his fingers inside her, she surrendered herself completely to the pleasure, her body responding with a fervor that bordered on desperation.

Her thighs quivered with the intensity of her arousal, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she teetered on the edge of ecstasy. It wasn't long before she felt herself stretching to accommodate a second finger, the sensation pushing her even closer to the brink of release.

But even as pleasure threatened to overwhelm her, she couldn't shake the feeling of being overstimulated, of being pushed to her limits by the intensity of their encounter. It was as if something in the air, something in the very essence of Australia itself, had ignited a primal fire within them both, driving them to new heights of passion and desire.

As Carlos continued his relentless assault on her senses, her moans grew shallower, each breathy gasp a testament to the ecstasy that threatened to consume her entirely. She chased her high with single-minded determination, her body trembling with the intensity of her arousal.

“That's good, baby,” Carlos murmured, his voice a soothing presence amidst the whirlwind of sensation. “Keep your voice low.”

His words were a gentle reminder of the need for discretion, a silent agreement between them to keep their passion contained within the confines of their private sanctuary. And as she struggled to comply, to stifle the cries of pleasure threatening to spill from her lips, she felt a surge of arousal coursing through her veins, driving her ever closer to the brink of release.

Sensing her arousal reaching a fever pitch, Carlos knew that she was on the brink of release. With a mix of restraint and desire, he withdrew his fingers, a sudden absence of his touch leaving her gasping for more.

The abrupt lack of sensation sent a jolt of longing coursing through her body, her hips instinctively arching towards him in search of the pleasure she so desperately craved. She whimpered softly, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she struggled to cope with the sudden emptiness inside her.

“Baby,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a potent mix of desire and need.

With a reassuring smile, Carlos met her gaze, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

“Don't worry, cariño,” he murmured, his voice a soothing balm against the ache of longing that pulsed through her veins. “I'm not done with you yet.”

As Carlos stood before her, shedding his race suit and fireproofs with deliberate precision, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight of him. With each movement, his toned muscles flexed and rippled beneath his skin, his body a testament to the physical demands of their sport.

Her breath caught in her throat as his cock sprang free, solid and throbbing with arousal, the sight of him sending a jolt of desire coursing through her veins. She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry with anticipation, knowing all too well the intensity of his desire to claim her.

This was what she had been expecting when he took the lead of the race—the raw, primal need that burned bright in his eyes, the insatiable hunger that drove him to seek out her touch with a desperation that bordered on madness.

With deliberate care, Carlos pulled her up onto the massage table, positioning himself between her legs with a primal hunger burning in his eyes. He kissed her with a tender urgency, savoring the taste of her lips against his own, before slowly entering her, inch by agonizing inch.

As he filled her, stretching her to accommodate his size, he could feel her walls clenching around him, her body instinctively adjusting to the intimate intrusion. Sensing her need for a moment to acclimate, he paused, his gaze locked with hers as he watched the myriad of emotions flicker across her face.

Her eyes were closed in blissful surrender, her lips parted in a silent plea for more. And in that moment, Carlos felt a surge of pride and desire swell within him, completely infatuated by the woman who had offered herself so completely to him.

With a smirk of satisfaction, he resumed his slow, steady thrusts, each movement driving them both closer to the edge of ecstasy. In this intimate dance of passion, there was no need for words—their bodies spoke a language of their own, a symphony of pleasure and desire that echoed through the dimly lit room.

“Carlos, baby, you need to move, please,” she pleaded, her voice laced with urgency as she yearned for the friction and rhythm only he could provide.

“So desperate for me, huh?” Carlos teased, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he reveled in the intensity of her need.

“I need it, baby. Please,” she implored, her words a desperate plea for release as her body thrummed with anticipation.

Carlos's breathy chuckle mingled with the symphony of their shared passion as he began to move, his movements slow and deliberate at first, building momentum with each thrust. He could feel her body responding eagerly to his touch, her moans growing louder with each passing moment.

As she fought to contain her urges, to resist the overwhelming need to grasp him and hold him close, Carlos felt a surge of arousal stir in his groin. The sound of her moans, the sight of her writhing beneath him in pleasure, ignited a primal fire within him, driving him to new heights of desire.

With each increase in speed, he felt himself completely filling her up, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony as they surrendered themselves to the ecstasy of the moment.

Feeling her hands being guided beneath her belly button, she opened her eyes, curiosity flickering in their depths as she glanced down to see what Carlos was doing. As he pressed her hands into her lower abdomen, she felt a slight movement beneath her fingertips, a sensation that sent a shiver of pleasure coursing through her body.

Her mouth opened in a silent gasp as she adjusted to the feeling, her senses overwhelmed by the intimate connection between them.

“You feel that?” His words hung in the air between them, heavy with raw desire and a primal intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

“Yeah,” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, her body quivering with pleasure at the sensation of him deep inside her.

“That's me fucking deep inside you,” Carlos murmured, his voice thick with arousal as he reveled in the intimate connection they shared.

As Carlos positioned her hands on his shoulders, a surge of anticipation raced through her veins, her body trembling with the intensity of their shared desire. With a primal urgency, he began to thrust, each movement hard and rapid, driving her to the brink of ecstasy with each powerful motion.

Some of his thrusts caused her to flinch, the sensation of him filling her completely both thrilling and overwhelming. She could feel herself bruising all over again, the reminder of their previous night's passion adding to the intensity of the moment. Yet despite the ache, despite the slight sting of pain, it all felt too good to resist.

And then, as pleasure surged through her body like a tidal wave, she came undone, her senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of her release. Her body shook with the force of her climax, every nerve ending alight with ecstasy as she surrendered herself completely to the pleasure coursing through her veins.

Her hands searched for some grip on his skin, fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders as she held on for dear life, leaving scratches in her wake. And as she reached the peak of her pleasure, she felt Carlos tensing beneath her, his own release imminent.

With one final, primal cry, he came inside her, his body shuddering with the force of his release as they rode out the waves of pleasure together.

As Carlos continued to thrust through her orgasm, a primal need drove him to push their pleasure to new heights. With a surge of determination, he pulled out and spun her around, his movements swift and purposeful as he positioned her upper body onto the massage table and spread her legs wide.

She clung to the table for support, her body trembling with a heady mix of pleasure and anticipation as Carlos resumed his thrusts. With each powerful motion, she fought to keep her legs steady, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of their shared desire.

But as pleasure built once more, she began to feel a twinge of pain, a nagging ache that tugged at the edges of her consciousness. Unsure whether it was the position or if her body had reached its limits, she pushed through, determined to chase her pleasure to its ultimate climax.

And then, just as she felt a second orgasm approaching, Carlos hit a particular spot that sent a jolt of pain shooting through her body, causing her legs to wobble beneath her. In that moment, she realized that her body had reached its breaking point, her pleasure giving way to the sharp sting of discomfort.

As she whispered the safe word, “Chili,” her voice barely above a breathless murmur, Carlos's movements faltered, a flicker of concern crossing his features. But with the intensity of their passion clouding his senses, her words went unheard as he continued thrusting, lost in the heat of the moment.

“Chili, chili,” she repeated, her voice growing slightly louder in a desperate plea for him to stop.

Sensing her distress, Carlos's instincts kicked in, and almost immediately, he ceased his movements and pulled out, his expression shifting from desire to concern. With the cum oozing out of her, a silent testament to their shared pleasure, Carlos turned her around and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to steady her trembling form.

“Are you okay, cariño?” Carlos's voice was filled with concern as he held her close, his arms a comforting presence around her trembling form.

She didn't answer immediately, her mind still reeling from the shock of having to use the safe word for the first time. She had never asked him to stop before, but the pain had become too much to bear.

“I'm fine, it just hurt a bit,” she finally replied, her voice soft and slightly strained as she tried to downplay the discomfort she was feeling.

Carlos's expression softened with understanding as he held her tighter, his heart aching at the thought of causing her any pain. With gentle hands, he brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch a silent apology for pushing her beyond her limits.

“I'm sorry, cariño,” he murmured, his voice filled with regret. “I didn't mean to hurt you.”

Carlos fetched a towel and gently cleaned her up, his heart weighed heavy with guilt for pushing her past her limits. With each tender touch, he was careful not to overstimulate her further, his movements slow and deliberate as he wiped away the remnants of their passion.

Once she was cleaned up, he helped her back onto the massage table, his touch gentle and reassuring as he helped her put her panties and skirt back on. She was exhausted from the episode, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of their encounter, and he could see the fatigue etched into her features.

With a pang of remorse, Carlos watched as she lay down, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she tried to regain her composure. He knew that she needed time to rest and recuperate, to recover from the intensity of their shared experience.

He cleaned himself up and changed into his casual clothes and kept stealing glances at her, his heart heavy with worry. But with each reassuring word she spoke, each gentle touch she offered, he felt a small measure of relief wash over him.

She was fine. She reassured him of that fact time and time again. And as he settled down beside her, wrapping her in his arms and holding her close, he knew that he was the one person she trusted more than anyone else in the world.

Carlos kissed her gently, his touch a soothing balm against the ache of her body and soul, she felt a sense of safety and comfort wash over her. In his arms, she found solace from the storm of emotions that had threatened to overwhelm her, her fears and doubts melting away beneath the warmth of his love.

With each caress of her cheek, each tender gesture, Carlos reaffirmed his devotion to her, his love a beacon of light in the darkness of their shared struggles. She knew that despite the momentary pain, she was safe with him, cherished and adored beyond measure.

Wrapped in his embrace, she felt a sense of peace settle over her, a quiet calm that whispered of better days to come. For in his arms, she found not only love, but strength—the strength to face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing that together, they could overcome anything.

She was and always would be addicted to him, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. But she also knew her limits, understood the importance of self-care and self-preservation. And as she nestled closer to him, surrendering herself to the warmth of his embrace, she knew that no matter what trials they faced, they would face them together, bound by a love that knew no bounds.

[tojisun]

Angsty thot on the the ghost x reader x soap blurb;

I've been thinking about the what if Soap did actually reciprocate Ghost's advances? For a moment, he forgets reader. Finally, FINALLY, Soap thinks... until the bliss dies down and he remembers reader and guilt sets in. Ghost's only all too happy to show off to reader. Being affectionate with Johhny, leaving whatever marks were left visible, staking a claim that he won.

Reader, of course, is dismayed and feels betrayed. But how much can she really feel? It fucking sucks, it does, that Ghost doesn't care what she thinks or feels and she wasn't in a committed relationship with Soap. So if they were to pursue a relationship, what can she really do about it?

HOW I AM AFTER READING THIS anon i wanna crawl into your mind and poke around your brain because how could you (ext)

johnny knows he hasn’t been honest with himself lately. that, in the face of ghost’s desires—because nothing less could describe the fire in his lieutenant’s eyes; it’s all so heated and leashed. hungry. aching—he denies himself and pretends he cannot see what is crystal clear.

he pretends that every brushing touch was an accident, that every heavy look was a trick of the light. that the way simon calls his name—johnny, with the ‘y’ dripping from his mouth like honey—was all circumstantial.

friendly. platonic, truly.

but it’s becoming more frequent. more passionate. more territorial.

of course, it was all a matter of when, really, was johnny going to fall. and the answer, apparently, is right now.

his shirt is torn off his body, fatigues falling beside two pairs of boots. warm lips, fever-hot, are on his skin, tracing scalding trails that has him trembling. he feels jittery, bones rattling within his flesh. he feels untethered, floaty. nirvana pinched between his fingers.

then, he falls, body thudding against the mattress. the metal of his bed posts creaks, a gunshot in the silence, and johnny freezes. his mind catching up to his heart.

this isn’t—

simon towers over him, his scarred chest heaving in his ragged breaths. the mask is off, discarded to the floor, and johnny, he—

well.

he sees the man that his soul sings to—cheeks flushed, bright cherries, and eyes dark with yearning. simon looks at him like johnny’s all that matters in the world; like all that he’s fighting to live for is johnny.

johnny feels this bloating in the back of his throat, something in his heart swelling until all he tastes is his breaths. his lips wobble, teeth chattering. they stop at ghost’s tender touch, his callused hand cupping johnny’s cheek.

simon's thumb swipes at the skin just underneath his eyes. his lips, crooked, tug up in a smile. “y’r much too gorgeous, johnny.”

johnny doesn’t know what happened next, only that he was stuffed with a burn that scorches from within and engulfed whole; devoured every way possible until simon's marks—from teeth and just his overall brute strength—took. his throat aches, scratchy, and his skin throbs with the memory of their love-making.

he, well, he wept. he tucked his head on the crook of simon's neck, breathing him in, unable to explain the euphoria simmering in the pit of his stomach.

simon loves him. he desired him every way possible so who wouldn't—

who wouldn't lose themselves?

(johnny thinks of you and the memories blur; what had been fiery passion morphs into something ugly. into something cruel.)

there was something different in ghost's gait—that's the first thing you noticed upon walking into the mess hall. he was more relaxed, more open in a way you have never seen from him before. he even met your eyes as you walk towards their little huddled group, the first time in a while, and you are unable to look away because there was something in his gaze that you couldn't quite place.

it still spoke of danger, of a walled barrier that he firmly put between you two, but it was undiscernible.

still poised, though, for the hunt.

kyle greets you first, kind and gentle, but before you could reply to him, johnny's tugging you away. a protest builds on the tip of your tongue, ready to slip past your chapped lips, but you freeze, feet stumbling as the air is knocked out of your lungs.

"bonnie–"

"oh," you say, a whispered gasp, your eyes unable to drag from the bruises on johnny's neck. not made with unkind intensions, if the teeth mars were any indication.

briefly, you wondered if johnny's met someone else to satiate his desires. if, in your absence, he sought to snuff the burning need from someone else. you've been away for three months, after all, chasing a lead in shanghai and tracking them all the way to tianjin. it must have been too long for johnny too.

(you wonder why your heart twinges at the idea of johnny finding comfort in someone else that isn't you.)

but the thought is doused by an ice-cold realization.

"it's– you know that i–"

"oi, 'tavish," ghost's voice rings from behind you.

you tip your head back just enough to see him, to see with your eyes what must he must have done, but he's back to ignoring you again.

it seemed like now that you've noticed what it was that had him elated, ghost no longer wanted to interact with you. not a word nor a touch. not even a glance.

johnny bites his bottom lip, shoulders hunching into himself.

"i'm sor–"

"i have to go," you say, your voice even sounds foreign to your own ears. "i have to, uhm, to report."

you shuffle away from between them, your palm rising to press onto your chest as though that could truly stop the splintering of your heart. as though your heart was truly wounded and that the pressure could stop the bleeding.

but it aches. dear god, everything aches.

ANON THIS HURT ME SO BAD AND I COULDNT HELP MYSELF FROM RAMBLING IM SORRY!! god im wailing so much like i literally was bug eyed staring at ur ask bc OW??? (btw reader is gn in this ghoap x reader angst)

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon fingering you under the table during a night out at the bar with the Taskforce.

The feeling of rough fingers grazing against your clothed thigh is not uncommon, not when seated next to Lt. Riley. His precious plaything, his best kept secret, he is always trying to steal little moments any chance he can get and tonight’s no exception, even if it is risky. Fuck, that heightens the need for him to prove he isn’t afraid to jeopardize everything just to make sure he keeps his pretty little thing at his mercy.

The bar is busy, crowded with loud, inebriated people there to drink and have fun. You find yourself sitting around a group of tables that have been pushed together to fit everyone in the taskforce from Captain Price to the newest recruits around. Everyone is in a good mood even being squashed in tight together, all going about laughing and drinking away as they enjoy a well-deserved night of freedom, none the wiser as to what is beginning to happen right under their noses just below the tabletop. 

And neither do you, not yet.

Simon keeps his hand firmly on you, letting it rest there possessively on your thigh as he lifts his mask from time to time to take sips off his glass of bourbon, massaging the muscle for a while as he listens at the edge of the conversations going on around that you are also barely paying attention to. Round two and then three happen the same as before until there is a shift in that burly military man’s demeanor.

Those fingers that had been content to lay on your lap start to wander, fueled by the liquor flowing through his veins, making rational thought fly away, and soon you can feel his hand moving upward and inching itself closer to the waistband of your pants. There is a sudden warmth at the side of your head as you take another swig from your drink, letting the liquid spirits run down the back of your throat like fire as you keep your eyes forward. 

“Open your legs,” the gravelly, heavily accented voice at your elbow growls in a hushed whisper into your ear through the smoke of his cigarette perched between his fingers. Simon reaches the top of your pants with the opposite hand and slips his fingers between the fabric and your balmy skin. 

He has to be ever so slow or risk the movement of his arm giving him away to anyone who happens to pay enough attention in that moment as he carefully undoes the button of your jeans and slowly lowers the zipper all the way down until it stops. Risking a glance up into his face, you are met with a devilish smirk that makes your heart skip a beat and instantly lets you know you are in deep fucking shit now; he’s in the mood to play. 

“Really?” you whisper back as you hold your drink to your lips to keep up the act, cheeks flushing fiery hot and not from the alcohol. Discreetly you try squeezing your legs together slightly, having just a bit of sense left to know that he should stop, you could get caught red handed, but at the same time not really wanting him to. “Not here. Wait till later; we’ll have fun when we get back.”

“Yes, here. Open. Your. Legs.” he repeats more firmly this second time as his hand slips inside the opening he’s created and right down between your thighs to pry them apart with the width of his hand. “Need ta feel ya, pretty girl.”

The alcohol heightens that feeling of giddy excitement, the rush and euphoria of doing something so insanely risky, and as you look around at the distracted faces at the table you can’t resist, not when his hand is already inside your pants. You move in your seat so that you can open your legs as wide as you can without it looking strange.  

Even with the imminent threat of detection growing by the second, there is no stopping him as Simon’s tough, calloused fingers search around until they locate the crotch of your panties and lace themselves through the seam, pulling them to the side until your pussy is exposed to his hand. There is a subtle heat that hits his fingertips, inviting him in further now that there is nothing to block it and he can feel his cock throb as it hits his hand. You swallow hard, breathing heavily out of your nose to help calm yourself as you clamp your lips shut to stop from audibly moaning at that first contact.

Another calm drag off his cig and he side-eyes you as he parts through your petals to slip a finger inside near the source of the heat against your clit and begins to stroke that sensitive bundle of nerves in slow, concise circles. So soft, so warm, nothing has ever felt more amazing. His head is buzzing and grows more hazy with each flick of his finger through the gathering dampness between your legs. All that delicious frictions at the tips of his fingers, fuck was he in it now.

You aren’t fairing much better, that fog rolling through your head, the minutes ticking away as that ecstasy gathers in the pit of your stomach. Soon you can barely see straight and you crave to do more. Setting your glass down, you let one of your arms rest on top of the table to create more shadow over your lap, but the other hand wants to get in on the action too. 

You lower it below the table and reach out towards him, wanting to rub him over his jeans, feel his cock pulse against the palm, but he stops you before you can even get over the bulk of his wide thigh. His cigarette dangles from his lips as his hand shoots down and grips tightly around your wrist to keep you from going further, his finger on your clit stopping and resting there a moment.  

“Keep those greedy hands to yourself,” he breathes near your ear as he pretends to look over his shoulder at something on the other side of the bar. “Ya don’t want me to stop, do ya sweetheart? Cause if ya can’t fuckin’ behave I’m gonna have to. Can’t have anyone gettin’ suspicious and endin’ my fun early.”

“No,” you snap back quickly, breathing in and out to calm the thudding in your chest, desperately needing him to continue. “Keep going. Please.”

He releases your hand back to you and you keep it on the tabletop next to the other to hinder yourself from trying to touch him again; you need him to keep going. Satisfied, the rubbing along your clit picks back up to that steady rhythm that it was before. Little beads of sweat speckle across your forehead as your body heats from the inside out the more his finger draws around that sensitive bundle; so depraved, yet absolutely perfect. 

Through puffs of smoke, brown eyes constantly sneak hungry glances as he enjoys every single fucking second of watching you simultaneously fall apart and try to keep it all together all at once. You pick up your drink a few times, pretending to take sips from it, but the way your mouth hangs open as you pant behind the glass he knows it’s all for show.

His jeans are growing tighter as his cock strains against the zipper, throbbing with each beat of his pulse as it races. Your thighs keep squeezing together to trap him against your now swollen clit; the ache is so bad you can hardly stand it. No one has ever looked better a complete and utter mess and Simon is determined to keep you in a constant state of euphoria, especially if he gets to appreciate all that beauty. 

“Move back, wanna get deeper,” he orders.

Subtly you adjust yourself in your seat, leaning back ever so slightly, and spreading your thighs open just enough that that large hand can fit further between them. Your eyes clock those around the table without you moving your head, but everyone still seems to not notice. His fingers move back from your clit towards your entrance and without warning two thick, bulky fingers spread you open as he shoves them up inside your wet cunt. Your body takes them in perfectly, gripping around the digits just as he hoped to suck him in.

You clear your throat to mask the moan desperately trying to escape at the feeling of those warm fingers of his filling you up. “Breathe sweetheart, don’t want ya to pass out,” Simon chuckles under his breath as he curls in fingers inside you. “That’s a good girl. Christ, ya feel good tonight, baby. I can feel you taking in my fingers like it’s nothing.” 

Fuck do you want to grind your hips into his hand, but there’s no way in hell you can hide something like that, not with everyone sitting so close. You’re nearly vibrating in your seat trying to keep still as the sensation of his fingers stretching out your already overstimulated body consumes your every thought. Simon uses his wrist to help snap his fingers up into you faster and faster without causing him to move his arm.

“Goddamit,” you groan in a breathy whisper as he pounds up into you.

Shivers run up and down your spine as he begins to rhythmically work at your G spot with rough and intense movements. The blaring rock music blasting over the speakers keeps the time with the pulsing of your walls the harder he works. At one point you shove your pelvis down into his hand to make as much contact with him as possible, body feverish to the touch. You need more, you need it all, you need him to make you come.

“Please, please,” you whimper almost silently, begging for something that is already being given to you. There is no way he is going to stop; he needs you to come for him now as much as you need him to do it.

“Look at ya takin’ it so fuckin’ well, cheeks all flushed,” he murmurs with a smirk. “Don’t even fuckin’ care ‘bout anything other than keepin’ me happy.” 

Minute after minute, his full attention is focused solely on you, each stroke drawing you increasingly nearer to that razor’s edge and threatening to violently throw you off. Your toes are curling against the soles inside your shoes as you push your feet into the flooring. Goddammit, he is insatiable, but when it comes to you there is nothing else he can be.

The dampness is now covering his fingers and dripping down onto the back of his hand and sticking to the inside of your thighs. Your walls are fluttering something fierce around his fingers, swelling and engorged. He knows you’re close and his pulse races to feel it, that moment you come. No single sensation ever gives him more pleasure than making you fall apart completely. 

Simon compromises giving this little ruse away by leaning in against your ear; he needs you to hear this fucking well. “Come on, pretty thing, finish for me. Come on my fingers.”

This is the point of no return. Those fucking words are all you need to let go.

Suddenly, like a wave washing over you, that warmth gathering in the pit of your stomach reaches its peak and shoots through you as you fall over the edge. You clamp your mouth shut hard, biting your tongue until you taste copper to stop from crying out, but it's not enough. You mewl in your throat and it is loud enough that even Simon reacts to the sound. 

“Shh, shhh,” he coaxes gently as his fingers slow down until they finally come to a stop. “Ya did so well for me sweetheart. Just breathe. I gotcha.”

Quickly you bring your drink back up to your lips and fake a cough to try and cover the noise as you steady your body that wants nothing more than to writhe as you ride out your ecstasy. Unfortunately, the sound catches a few eyes, though they quickly turn back away after only a second, all except one. It is the Scottish sergeant sitting directly across the table from you both that speaks up about it.

“Ya alright there lass?” Johnny asks with a raised eyebrow as he turns his attention to you curiously.

You clear your throat, pretending to accidentally choke on your drink. “Yeah, fine, just went down wrong,” you stammer out in your calmest tone, hoping he buys the lie long enough to go back to what he is doing. Your face is on fire, cheeks flushed warm as Simon’s fingers still rest inside your pussy, your walls still pulsing against them. Maybe you can pass the heat in your face off as a product of the liquor, but something in the sergeant's skeptical lingering gaze makes you not so certain if he’s buying it at all.

“Ya sure there?” he questions again.

You nod, trying not to fully meet his eyes as you come up with your next lie when a pretty thing from across the bar who has been eyeing the sergeant all night walks up out of nowhere and taps him on the shoulder, pulling him directly from this conversation before it gets any more awkward and you feel like you can relax fully again.

Licking your lips, you turned your attention back to Simon who is eating up every last second of you almost being caught with his hand in your pants. Those auburn eyes are giving you sideways glances as he raises his glass to finish off the last of his drink, removing his fingers achingly slow, wiping them against the crotch of your panties to remove your juices, all with a subtle smirk that dances at the corner of his mouth. You wait till he’s done and sits back fully in his seat with the glass back on the table before you dig your fingers into the bulk of his thigh. 

“Restroom.” you demand and immediately get yourself in order so that you can get up from the table. “Now.”

He knows what you want and he’s ready to accept the consequences of his actions. There is no way you are waiting until later to continue this. Simon wanted to start this here, it’s going to have to be finished here. He gives you a headstart before following right behind, slipping through the crowd as quickly as he can without being detected; there is a tenting at the crotch of his pants that is hard to hide properly.

You are waiting for him just on the other side of the restroom door so that before he can fully get in you are already on him, ripping his mask up and off his head with greedy hands so that your hot, aching lips can desperately meet for the first time tonight. A tangled mess of limbs intertwined and bodies molded into one another he pulls you into the nearest stall and slams the door shut, locking it without ever removing his mouth from your own. God, if these walls could talk they’d have so many salacious stories to tell about you two sneaking away here to screw each other. 

Feverish hands are ripping off clothing at breakneck speeds as flesh begs to connect with flesh. It’s like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline; the moment you two get started, it’s hard to stop without at least parts of you getting naked.

His cock-hungry slag, your pussy-ravenous superior; it is a match made in erotic heaven.

“Finish what you started, you bastard,” you plead agitatedly.

His lips upturn against your mouth. “Ya don’t even have to fuckin’ ask, sweetheart,” he replies as he shoves your jeans off your hips while taking your soaked panties with them, pushing them onto the floor before picking you up so you have to wrap you legs around his waist, followed by a bang from your back hitting the stall wall.

[specsthesecond]

❤️‍🔥

His molten tears fall down to your face but they don't burn.

He's wanted to touch you for so long. So many nights he's dreamt of this.

Your body under his, his fiery hands tracing the curves of your soft naked skin. His searing hot lips finally kissing yours, finally tasting you. Your own tears hiss into vapour as they streak down your cheeks, your sweat evaporating off your skin.

He knows he should be more cautious, neither of you actually know how well this fire resistant potion works but he's way too far gone now. He holds you so close as you get used to the strange feeling of his blazing skin touching you. You didn't expect it but under the deceptive wisps of flames covering him was a solid amalgamation of heat and you were touching it, you were touching him.

When he eases inside you, you both cry out your shared euphoria. His hot mouth can't seem to leave your skin, your hands can't leave his body. He bottoms out, hard sweltering cock deep inside you. The feeling is so strange but you have no time to dwell on it, his flame lights a fire inside you (literally and figuratively).

You look into his smoldering eyes, wiping away his tears as he sets a sensual pace. It's like he's trying to touch every part of you, like he'll never get to do it again and you can't help but share the sentiment. Your bodies mold together, so incompatible but it feels so perfect.

His fingers touch all the right spots, he's dreamed about exactly where he'd touch you in this moment. His blazing hot fingers rub your clit as his tongue scorches your throat. You cum together, he releases hot magma that has your walls clenching around him, begging for all of it. You wish you could keep him inside you forever.

You're crying again but for a different reason now. This has to end. The potion will wear off eventually and you'll be separated again. Now that you've had a taste how can you let go?

Your tears sizzle away when he gently cradles your cheeks in his hands. You squint through blurry wet eyes, his face says everything he can't say in that moment.

He'll never give up on you. He'll only let go temporarily for your safety but he won't rest until you find a way to be together like you're clearly meant to be, especially now that he's had a taste of you.

You'll find a way.

[the-californicationist]

fluffy smutty dom soap just spoiling the everliving shit out of the female mc, like they've been lovey dovey so much but theyre finally getting down to businesssssssss (to defeat... THE HUNSSSSS)

idk if this is what you were looking for.... but!! 😅

TW: rough sex, collar, D/s, face fucking, boot-riding, female reader, unsafe motorcycle events, enthusiastic consent and prior boundaries

Backpacking

Soap’s hands grabbed yours and pulled them around his waist, showing you just how tight to hold on. You could feel the heat of his skin through his clothes, and you let your fingers tease the hem of his thin tee shirt, tracing little lines across his belly. 

You’d spent the whole day on the back of his motorcycle, speeding from one town to the next, packing his side bags full of trinkets and jewelry — anything you wanted, he handed over his card. A brand new baby pink helmet? Check. The safety jacket to match? Check. A white leather collar with the cutest little bell? Check. He was doing anything and everything he could to treat you like a princess, and as much fun as you were having, you could recognize a pre-apology from a mile away. 

He wanted to butter you up, to lull you into a false sense of relaxed euphoria, and then he’d pounce. You knew his patterns well. He’d compliment you, calling you the bonniest wee backpack he ever did see, telling you that you were his fit lassie, prettier than any other, and that you felt so good wrapped around him when he rode. 

Soap lifted up your legs and scooted you forward, jamming you up against him. Then, the bike roared to life, ready to take you home. You could feel the machine rumble beneath you, vibrating right to your very core. 

You dared move your hands lower, cupping his heavy cock in your hands, feeling him twitch, threatening to get hard behind the zipper of his jeans. 

“Lass,” he warned, flipping up the visor to his helmet while he waited at the red light. 

The light turned green and he flipped it back down, turning his attention back to the road. 

You moved your hands again, squeezing him and massaging him until he was throbbing. You knew you were in for a world of hurt when you got home, but that was miles away. When he sped up, you squeezed harder, finding his swollen head and torturing it with your fingertips, spidering your nails across the stretched denim, knowing he would feel the ghost of your touch against his skin. 

He was certainly bothered. You could tell he was gunning for home, taking all of the shortcuts, shifting in his seat. Then, a stop sign. It was the entrance to your village, and your house wasn’t far off. 

As he rolled to a stop, he didn’t say a word, but his masked face looked over his shoulder at you, and you could feel his eyes, fiery and vengeful. It made your legs tremble, knowing how he would punish you. 

The twists and turns to your home were achingly slow compared to your ride on the highway, and the anticipation mounted in your belly. He pushed the button for the garage and rode inside with you still on the back, which was not your normal procedure. Soap usually helped you down from the seat, sending you inside so he could get his gear off. But, you were trapped up there until he dismounted. 

He parked the bike and killed the engine. Then, he closed the garage, leaving you in the dim light, watching him swing his leg over the low handlebars and stand up. You moved to follow him, but he stopped you, shoving you back down with a wide hand on your hip.

“Nuh uh, I dinnae think so, bonnie. You’ve been a naughty wee backpack today, you ken?”

You pulled off your helmet, fixing your braid, peppering your words with just a little more attitude than they needed, 

“I just wanted —”

His hand darted to your neck with a violent snap, something you hadn’t experienced, and he startled you. It also made your body extremely pliant, and you felt your hole pulse for him, turned on by his sudden aggression. Soap’s helm was still on, and it muffled his voice, but you could still hear him, 

Your helmet fell out of your hands, and he caught it, setting it down with his free hand on the workbench. His other hand tightened around your neck,

“Take off your clothes, bonnie girl. Every bit.”

He released you from his grasp, but you were still trapped, forced to strip on the bike, unable to dismount as he was standing in your way. Soap was just watching you, occasionally palming his hard cock through his pants just as you had on the bike, hungry and fully in control. 

“Johnny, I promise…”

He grabbed your throat again, staring at your state of undress, just panties and socks remaining, and he barked his commands at you, 

“Kiss me.”

“What? With your helmet on?”

His hand constricted your throat even tighter as a warning, and he whispered in a deep growl,

“Like you mean it, bonnie.”

Unable to escape, you began to kiss his helmet. It was plasticky and dusty from the road, but you tried to comply, licking and sucking at the mask, leaving little trails of drool across the dark visor. 

“That’s it, baby girl. Show me how sorry you are. Your man treated you like a princess, hm? And you were a wee brat, rubbin’ my cock all the way home. Teasin’ me. Such a bad girl.”

“I’m sorry, Johnny,” you gave him your best doe-eyed impression, but it was no use. 

“You will be,” he growled. 

All in a flash, he shoved you over the seat of the bike, the engine still warm beneath the leather, soft and supple as you lay on your belly. From this angle, your ass was up in the air, your feet barely touching the garage floor, and your head was hanging off of the side, blocking your view. 

Then, a hard slap rang out through the garage. You heard it before you felt it, but the sting sent you reeling. You cried out with a shriek and he hit you again. It was the other cheek this time, but it hurt just as bad. 

“Johnny, please!”

You heard him rip off his helmet. It clattered to the floor and he reached over the bike, pulling you up by the nape of your neck, forcing you to arch your back, 

“Mercy? Where was my fuckin’ mercy while you were havin’ your fun on the M80?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m — nghh!” You whispered a slew of apologies, but you were silenced as you felt his cockhead being shoved roughly against your folds, pulsing through your tight muscles, popping into place with a hot, unbearable pressure.

Soap began to thrust himself into you, both hands tangled in your hair at the base of your skull, the full weight of his body rocking into you, threatening to knock over the bike. But, it was in its wheel locks, and it wasn’t going anywhere. You had received no kindness. No soft licks with his smooth, generous tongue, no delicate swipes from his finger. Johnny was making you take his cock raw… and you loved it. 

“Mmf-fuck!” He groaned, bending himself over you like a rabid dog, sinking his teeth into your shoulder with a sharp bite, holding you up with his enormous arms, your breasts swaying with every unforgiving thrust. 

“Is tha’ what you needed, hm? My bonnie backpack just needed to be stuffed full of her man’s fat prick, is tha’ it?”

“Yes-s-s-s, sir!”

“Takin’ me so well, princess. You ken I love it when you’re a good girl. Such a good fuckin’ girl.”

Every word that oozed from his mouth was punctuated by another overwhelming invasion of his hard rod, and even though you were intimately familiar with his size and shape, you couldn’t remember ever feeling him go this deep. He was relentless, and his pace was taking your breath away. 

Suddenly, you were lifted from the bike, and his hand forced its way into your collar, controlling your every movement. You were pushed to your knees, and you landed in a splayed, awkward way, with Johnny bent over you, snarling into your face,

“Find my boot with that wet little slit, princess. Find it. Tha’s it. Spread those legs. Show me you can be my good girl.”

You were cock-drunk and lost now that you were empty, but you did as you were told. You held onto his huge thigh and humped your hips down, trying to reach for the toe of his riding boot. When you found it, you noticed how he had it angled up for you, ready for you to grind yourself into it like the wanton little thing you were. 

When you felt the smoothness of the leather toe, you became all too happy to oblige, thrusting forward and back, rubbing yourself to an almost-orgasm on his boot. Just as you were about to tumble over the edge, you heard him chuckle, and you felt your neck being yanked by the collar, pulled face-to-face with his dripping cockhead. 

“Open up, bonnie.”

He didn’t wait for long. Johnny pressed his cock into your mouth, making you taste yourself, giving you a few shallow thrusts to get used to his thick girth. He still had his fingers laced through your new collar, and as he began to shove his length past your shining lips, the bell made a darling little tinkling sound. 

“Mmm,” he smiled down at you, petting the hair out of your face with his other hand, “There she is. There’s my good girl. My backpack loves to be stuffed. Loves to swallow my load, huh? Tell me how much you love it.”

“Mmph mmn mgh!” You tried to speak, but his dick was filling your cheeks, making it impossible. 

Another sharp yank on your collar got your attention, and your eyes darted to his, wide and full of wonder. He smiled, commanding you,

“Louder, bonnie. Cannae hear you clearly.”

“Mmph mmn mgh! Mmn mgh!” You were basically screaming against his flesh, struggling to push your voice out just like he wanted you to. You wanted to be so good. 

You continued to rub yourself on his boot, and you were getting close. You gripped his thigh tighter, fucking yourself with the smooth leather, chasing your high.

But, it was Soap who got you there. He grabbed you by the face and pushed himself down into your throat to his hilt, burying your nose in his curls, running his thumb over your tear-stained cheeks and coaching you through it, 

“Come for me, bonnie. Come right now. Tha’s it. Scream. Scream on my cock, you pretty little slut. Mngh! Tha’s it!”

Your body didn’t give you a choice. It was on his side, and it followed his orders. You felt yourself coming, shaking in your legs, gushing all over his shoe, staining the concrete floor of the garage, screaming like you were dying. 

He pulled himself out of you all in one, gentle go. Then, he started jerking himself off, keeping hold of your collar, fisting his cock onto your cheek. 

“Close your eyes, princess, and open up that filthy fuckin’ mouth.”

You obeyed, pliant as ever, and as you did, you felt his come coat your face, rope after rope, warm and creamy, getting all over your cheeks and mouth. You opened your eyes to look at him, and he was worn out, wrung like a rag, panting and dizzy. He used the tip of his dick to paint your lips one more time, and  you cleaned him up, laving him with your tongue from base to tip, letting his seed drip off of your nose and jaw, not caring how messy you were. 

While he was watching you, you swiped a dollop of his come up with your finger and began eating it from your hands, showing him your tongue, trying to please him with your loyal obedience. 

“Oh, fuck. Such a pretty girl. So perfect. Best fuckin’ backpack in the whole world, bonnie.”

AO3 Link

[discoscoob]

ִ ˙ ✩°˖🔥⋆｡˚ DEVIL IN BETWEEN THE SHEETS

CW: dubcon/noncon, monsterfucking, drug use… don’t judge me… 🫣

Your breath is lodged in your throat as you concentrate on keeping still while Kevin inhales the trail of white powder from between the valley of your breasts, right over your hammering heartbeat. Straddling your lower abdomen, his weight traps you against the mattress beneath you. You finally release a shuddering breath when he straightens up, throwing his head back.

“I believe it’s your turn now.” his husky purr is spoken through a wicked grin as he lowers his gaze, fixing his blown pupils upon you with unrestrained euphoria.

He rolls off your abdomen with a burst of energy through his bloodstream, eagerly preparing you a line on the bedside table. You move hesitantly as you follow him, never diverting your focus from his hyper movements.

“I’ve-” his lips are upon yours in a searing kiss, devouring your anxious words before they could be spoken. His hand engulfs your entire skull, securely cradling the back of your head to hold you in place.

“Trust me.” his warm breath fans across your lower lip as he rests his forehead against yours with an affectionate nuzzle. With the hand on the back of your skull, he nudges you towards the line he prepared.

The powder burns through your nostril on the journey to the back of your throat and you scrunch your face at the unfamiliar sensation. The sound of your sniffles echo through the dimly lit room as you rise, rubbing your fingers against the tip of your tingling nose.

Kevin’s overblown eyes glisten with approval as they vigilantly scan over your face, hunting for the tell-tale signs of the drug's effects to kick in.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he coaxes, his hands threading into your hair, his touch ignites thrills through your body, causing goosebumps to rise across your tingling skin. “Do you feel the rush, doll? The pleasure? The clarity? You’re unlocking parts of your mind you never knew existed.”

His voice surrounds you, deep and velvety, seeping into every part of your being and echoing through your mind. The vibrations from the music downstairs ripple through your chest with every beat of your racing pulse. You sink back against the silk covers, feeling them envelop you into their inviting comfort.

Kevin’s scorching hands are upon you, exploring every inch of your sensitive body, your overactive mind making you hyper aware of every grope, pinch and brush of his fingertip against your twitchy nerves.

Everything is heightened, amplified into a kaleidoscope of overwhelming sensations that penetrate and surround your body and sharpen your mind. Kevin’s grunts and growls sound like they belong to a wild beast as he thrust into you, building to a punishing pace in a primal haze to earn both your releases.

Your alert eyes snap open, immediately connecting with a glowing pair of blazing red irises and snarling pearly white fangs inches away from your flushed and sweat glistened face. Upon his head, two mighty raven black horns protrude from his skull with deadly sharp tips and the longer your inflated pupils stare the quicker the colour drains from your face until you’re covering your eyes with your hands like a frightened child.

It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.

Kevin’s savage thrusts are unrelenting as his scorching grasp firmly surrounds your delicate wrists, prizing your hands away from your face and pinning them against the silk sheets above your head. Your eyelids remain locked shut tight, refusing to look at the beast upon you.

“Look at me.” he demands, his tone leaving no room for defiance.

Reluctantly you force your eyes to flutter open, meeting the jet black pools of his darkened glare without any hint of the fiery blaze that pierced straight through you only moments earlier. Above his glistening brow, you search for the mighty horns that grew from his skull, but they’re gone and so are the razor sharp canines.

“It’s just me.” he soothes you, attempting to hush his gruff voice as the overwhelming pleasure builds inside him. Your mind swirls with your approaching release, while images of the ghastly creature linger in the back of your mind.

It was just a hallucination, right?

[rafesapologist]

the set up — rafe cameron; part twenty five

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

warnings: angst, swearing, substance abuse, alcohol use, probably a tearjerker

author's note: please check the author's note at the end of this chapter for important news for this series!! thank you mwah

The pulsating beat of the music reverberated through the crowded living room, drowning out the cacophony of voices and laughter that filled the air. Rafe found himself amidst a sea of strangers, their faces blurred by the haze of alcohol and the rhythmic thump of the bass.

With each line he snorted, the world around him seemed to blur further, the edges of reality fading into obscurity. The weight of his grief, the ache of longing, and the echoes of lost love dissolved with each inhale, replaced by a numbing sense of euphoria that offered temporary respite from the turmoil within.

Topper and Kelce, his ever-loyal companions in mischief, flanked him on either side, their raucous laughter and carefree demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil that raged within Rafe's soul. They egged him on, their encouragement laced with the promise of escape, the allure of oblivion beckoning like a siren's call in the night.

As the night wore on and the intoxicating haze enveloped him, Rafe lost himself in the hedonistic frenzy, the lines between right and wrong, pleasure and pain, blurring into insignificance. In the throes of reckless abandon, he sought solace in the temporary reprieve that the party offered, a fleeting moment of freedom in a world fraught with uncertainty.

Yet, amidst the chaos and the clamor, a whisper of doubt lingered in the recesses of his mind, a nagging reminder of the emptiness that lurked beneath the surface. With each passing moment, the weight of his choices bore down upon him, a burden too heavy to bear alone.

But for now, he drowned his sorrows in the embrace of oblivion, surrendering to the intoxicating allure of the night, as the echoes of his laughter mingled with the chorus of the partygoers, lost in the transient bliss of the present moment.

The burn of the alcohol, the sting of the cocaine, it all melded together in a chaotic symphony of sensations that threatened to consume him whole. With each swallow, Rafe felt the weight of his troubles momentarily lift, replaced by a heady rush of euphoria that surged through his veins like wildfire.

His throat ablaze, he threw his head back, the cool glass pressed against his lips a fleeting reprieve from the tumult that raged within. The bitter taste of liquor mingled with the metallic tang of coke, a potent concoction that set his senses ablaze with reckless abandon.

As the fiery elixir coursed through his veins, Rafe surrendered himself to the intoxicating embrace of oblivion, the lines between reality and illusion blurring into insignificance. In that fleeting moment of ecstasy, he found solace amidst the chaos, a temporary escape from the haunting echoes of your name that lingered in the depths of his soul.

With each sip, each swallow, he sought refuge in the numbing embrace of intoxication, a desperate attempt to drown out the cacophony of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. For in the haze of drunken euphoria, he found temporary respite from the torment of his own thoughts, lost in the transient bliss of the present moment.

In the dimly lit room, amidst the pulsating thump of the music and the haze of cigarette smoke, Rafe's mind drifted to distant shores, where the echoes of your absence reverberated with haunting intensity. Weeks had passed since he last saw you, since the bitter taste of goodbye lingered on his lips, and in that time, he found himself adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

Yet, in the midst of the chaotic dance of revelry and debauchery, he found solace in the promise of oblivion that lay before him. The lines of cocaine, glistening like a siren's call, beckoned him with their seductive allure, offering temporary respite from the suffocating weight of his own thoughts.

With trembling hands and a heart heavy with longing, he leaned over the table, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply, the powder disappearing into the depths of his being. In that fleeting moment of inhalation, he felt the world around him melt away, replaced by a euphoric rush that surged through his veins like liquid fire.

For in the transient embrace of intoxication, he found temporary reprieve from the relentless grip of reality, lost in the swirling vortex of his own inner turmoil. And as he surrendered himself to the numbing embrace of the drug, he embraced the oblivion that awaited, a fleeting escape from the haunting specter of your absence.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting soft golden rays across the room as Rafe stirred from his slumber. As consciousness slowly returned, he found himself enveloped in a familiar warmth, the remnants of the night's embrace lingering in the air.

Turning his head slightly, he saw you lying beside him, your features softened in the gentle light of dawn. For a moment, he allowed himself to savor the sight, to revel in the tranquility of the moment before the harsh realities of the day came crashing back.

As he watched you sleep, a bittersweet ache settled in his chest, knowing that this fleeting moment of peace was destined to fade with the rising sun. The events of the previous night replayed in his mind like a broken record, each memory etched with the painful reminder of what could have been.

With a heavy heart, he reached out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering as if to imprint the memory of your presence upon his soul. In that brief, tender gesture, he sought solace amidst the tumultuous storm of emotions that raged within him.

Yet even as he traced the contours of your face, he couldn't shake the nagging sense of impending loss that hung over them like a dark cloud. For he knew, deep down, that this fragile moment of peace was but a fleeting respite in the relentless march of time.

As the morning sun bathed the room in its golden glow, Rafe lingered a moment longer, committing the sight of you sleeping peacefully to memory. For in the quiet stillness of the morning, he found a fleeting glimpse of the happiness that had once been within his grasp, now slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

As Sofia approached with another round of shots, Rafe's lips curled into a faint smile, a reflexive response to the sight of the familiar liquor. The cheers of the crowd washed over him, a cacophony of voices blending into the background as he focused on the moment at hand.

Sofia's presence beside him brought a sense of comfort, a fleeting reminder of the semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos of the party. With a grateful nod, he leaned in to kiss her cheek, a silent gesture of appreciation before reaching for the shot glass.

The cool glass felt familiar against his fingertips as he lifted it to his lips, the fiery burn of the alcohol a welcome distraction from the turmoil that churned within him. With a practiced motion, he tossed back the shot, the liquid searing his throat as it ignited a temporary blaze of euphoria within him.

As he set the empty glass down, a sense of numbness washed over him, dulling the edges of his thoughts and blurring the lines between reality and the hazy fog of intoxication. In that moment, all that mattered was the fleeting escape that the alcohol provided, a temporary reprieve from the weight of his own regrets and uncertainties.

"Easy there, Rafe," Topper teased, nudging Rafe's shoulder with a playful grin. "You're not trying to outdrink the whole island tonight, are you?"

Rafe laughed, the sound tinged with the effects of the alcohol. "Nah, just catching up, you know?"

Kelce, leaning in from the other side, chimed in, "Yeah, catching up with the bottles, maybe!"

The group erupted into laughter again, and Rafe raised his shot glass in mock defiance. "Hey, don't hate the player, hate the game!"

Sofia, handing him another shot, winked playfully. "Looks like you're the MVP of this game tonight, babe."

Rafe grinned, accepting the shot with a smirk. "You know it." He tossed back the drink, the fiery burn of the liquor igniting a temporary blaze of euphoria within him.

Rafe stood up with a smirk, raising his shot glass in a mock toast to the crowd. "Alright, who's ready for some real fun?" he called out, his voice cutting through the chatter of the room. "I'm gonna snort lines off Sofia!"

His words elicited a mixture of cheers and laughter from the crowd, the anticipation palpable in the air. Sofia shot him a playful glare, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. "You're crazy, you know that?" she teased.

Rafe chuckled, his confidence unwavering as he responded, "Only for you." With a wink, he turned back to the table, ready to take their night to the next level.

As Rafe meticulously arranged the lines of cocaine on Sofia's stomach, his movements were almost methodical, belying the chaos of the party around them. The soft glow of the overhead lights illuminated the scene, casting elongated shadows across Sofia's curves as she lay there, her eyes fixed on Rafe with a mixture of anticipation and mischief.

The crowd around them leaned in, their voices hushed in anticipation as they watched the tableau unfold. Rafe's hands moved with a fluidity born of familiarity, his touch gentle yet purposeful as he carefully positioned each line.

Sofia's skin, bathed in the ambient light, seemed to glow with a surreal allure, the lines of cocaine glistening against the smooth expanse of her stomach. There was a palpable tension in the air, a sense of anticipation mingled with the heady rush of excitement as Rafe prepared to snort the lines off her.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still, the chaotic energy of the party fading into the background as all eyes were fixed on Rafe and Sofia. It was a moment of shared intimacy amidst the frenzy, a fleeting connection that transcended the boundaries of the ordinary.

As Rafe leaned down, his breath hitching with anticipation, Sofia's gaze locked onto his, a silent invitation in her eyes. The world around them seemed to blur as they leaned in, the thrill of the moment sending a shiver down their spines.

As Rafe inhaled each line with deliberate slowness, the white powder disappeared into his nostrils, sending a rush of euphoria coursing through his veins. With each inhalation, his senses heightened, his mind drifting further away from the chaotic reality of the party.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he lifted his head back up, the intoxicating effects of the cocaine enveloping him in a hazy bliss. His gaze met Sofia's, a silent acknowledgment passing between them, but as he looked down again, his smirk faltered, replaced by a sudden wave of disorientation.

Instead of Sofia's face, his vision blurred and shifted, and in its place, he saw yours—your eyes filled with disappointment, your expression reflecting a pain he couldn't bear to witness. The sudden intrusion of your presence shattered the euphoric haze, bringing him crashing back to reality with jarring clarity.

Rafe's eyes widened in disbelief as he recoiled, his body instinctively retreating from the tableau before him. Horror and shock contorted his features, a stark contrast to the haze of intoxication that had clouded his senses just moments before. His mouth fell open, words caught in his throat, as he struggled to reconcile the hallucination with the surreal scene unfolding in front of him.

His body temperature seemed to spike, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he struggled to comprehend the surreal sight before him. His gaze fixated on the image of your features superimposed over Sofia's, each line and curve hauntingly familiar. You were looking back at him, the same sorrow etched into your expression as it had been on the day he last saw you. The air around him felt thick with tension, his heart pounding in his chest as he grappled with the inexplicable vision before him.

As his thoughts raced, an agonizing ache sliced through Rafe's heart at the surreal sight before him. Part of him was gripped by fear and anguish, unable to comprehend the inexplicable vision of you overlaid on Sofia's form. Yet, another part of him felt a deep longing, an irresistible urge to reach out and touch the ghostly image of your face, as if hoping to dispel the haunting illusion and confirm its reality.

His lip trembled as he extended a trembling hand towards the spectral image of your face, the lines between reality and illusion blurring in his mind. But his tentative gesture was abruptly halted by Sofia's voice, piercing through the haze of confusion and desperation, as she questioned him in bewilderment.

"Rafe, what are you doing?" Sofia's voice sliced through the thick fog of his thoughts, her tone a mix of confusion and concern. "Why are you just staring like that?"

Rafe's hand hung in the air for a moment longer, trembling with the weight of his conflicted emotions. Slowly, he lowered it back to his side, his gaze still fixed on the haunting visage before him.

"I-I thought I saw something," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes still locked on the illusion of your face. "Must've been the booze or something…"

Sofia furrowed her brows, glancing between Rafe's distraught expression and the empty space on the table. "Are you okay? Maybe you should lay off the drinks for a bit."

Rafe nodded absentmindedly, his mind still reeling from the encounter. "Yeah… Yeah, maybe you're right," he mumbled, his thoughts consumed by the ghost of your memory.

The blond rubbed his eyes vigorously, as if trying to erase the vivid image of you from his mind. Your presence lingered, haunting him like a specter from the past. The memory of your voice, the echo of your sorrowful gaze, remained etched in his consciousness, refusing to fade away.

He shook his head in a futile attempt to clear his thoughts, the weight of your memory pressing down on him like a heavy burden. Each blink seemed to bring you back into focus, your presence looming larger than life in his mind's eye.

With a deep sigh, Rafe leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes briefly as he tried to push aside the overwhelming flood of emotions that threatened to engulf him. But no matter how hard he tried to escape, you were always there, a constant reminder of what he had lost and what could have been.

Sofia's voice broke through the haze of Rafe's thoughts, her words jolting him back to the present moment. He blinked, refocusing on the scene unfolding around him, as her whispered question reached his ears. "Rafe," Sofia's voice was soft but insistent as she leaned in closer to him, her eyes searching his face for an explanation. "What was that all about?"

Rafe felt Sofia's gaze pierce through the haze of his thoughts, her concern palpable in the air between them. He blinked, momentarily taken aback by her directness, before attempting to gather his thoughts.

"I… I don't know," he replied, his voice wavering slightly as he struggled to find the right words. "It's just… I thought I saw something, someone…"

His explanation hung in the air, his uncertainty evident as he grappled with the strange encounter that had just unfolded before them. Rafe's movements were abrupt, a sudden need for space overtaking him as he rose from the couch and made his way toward the kitchen. The chatter and laughter of the party faded into the background as he sought refuge in the solitude of the adjacent room.

Once in the kitchen, he leaned against the counter, his breathing heavy and erratic. His mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions, the image of you lingering in his thoughts like an unwelcome specter.

With trembling hands, he reached for a nearby glass, filling it with water in an attempt to calm his frazzled nerves. As he took a sip, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over him, a nagging sense of something unresolved lingering just beneath the surface.

Topper approached Rafe cautiously, concern evident in his expression as he glanced over at his friend leaning against the counter. "Hey man, you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine worry.

Rafe straightened slightly, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he forced a casual smile. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he replied, his tone strained. He didn't want to burden Topper with his internal turmoil, especially not amidst the festivities of the party.

Topper studied him for a moment, a hint of skepticism flickering across his features before he nodded slowly. "Alright, just checking," he said, though his eyes betrayed his lingering concern as he turned to head back into the living room.

Alone once more, Rafe let out a shaky breath, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. He closed his eyes briefly, attempting to push aside the turmoil threatening to consume him.

Rafe's mind was a tumultuous storm, the memories of your departure still fresh in his mind as he found himself lost in the chaos of the party. Surrounded by a sea of unfamiliar faces and drowning in a haze of alcohol and drugs, he sought solace in the temporary oblivion they offered.

But even as he tried to lose himself in the moment, the echoes of your absence reverberated through his thoughts, a constant reminder of the void you had left behind. Each line of coke he snorted, each shot of liquor he downed, was a desperate attempt to numb the pain, to escape the suffocating weight of his own regrets.

As the party raged on around him, Rafe's gaze drifted aimlessly, his mind a whirlwind of memories and emotions. He found himself drawn to the edges of the room, seeking refuge in the shadows as he grappled with the demons that haunted him.

But no matter how hard he tried to drown them out, your absence lingered like a specter, a silent presence that refused to be ignored. And as he stood there, surrounded by strangers and consumed by his own self-destructive tendencies, he couldn't help but wonder if this was his punishment, his penance for letting you slip through his fingers.

Lost in the haze of the party, Rafe's thoughts turned inward, a whirlwind of regret and longing that threatened to consume him whole. And as he stared into the abyss of his own despair, he knew deep down that he was running out of time, that sooner or later he would have to face the truth of what he had lost.

Under the canopy of stars, the soft glow of moonlight illuminated the secluded beach, creating a picturesque scene that seemed straight out of a fairytale. Rafe had spared no expense in setting up the perfect evening for the two of you, and as you sat together on the blanket, you couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder and gratitude.

"This is incredible," you whispered, your voice barely above a hushed tone as you took in the romantic atmosphere.

Rafe smiled, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of affection and excitement. "I wanted tonight to be special for us," he admitted, his hand reaching out to intertwine with yours.

As you leaned into his touch, a warmth spread through your chest, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion welling up inside you. The gentle sound of the waves lapping against the shore provided the perfect backdrop to your conversation, creating a serene ambiance that seemed to envelop the two of you in a world of your own.

For hours, you talked and laughed, sharing stories and dreams as you reveled in the simple pleasure of each other's company. The night seemed to stretch on endlessly, each moment etching itself into your memory as you savored the fleeting beauty of the evening.

And as the hours slipped by and the stars danced overhead, you found yourself falling more deeply in love with Rafe than ever before. In that moment, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the warmth of his embrace, you knew that this night would be one you would cherish for a lifetime.

As the evening progressed, Rafe reached into the picnic basket and pulled out a box of chocolate-covered strawberries, a mischievous glint in his eyes. With a playful smile, he offered one to you, holding it out with a flourish.

"Care for a strawberry?" he teased, his voice laced with laughter as he watched your reaction.

You chuckled, accepting the treat with a grin. "Don't mind if I do," you replied, taking a bite and savoring the sweet flavor as it melted on your tongue.

But instead of simply eating the strawberry, Rafe leaned in close, his lips brushing against yours as he fed you the remaining half. The gesture sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a spark of desire that lingered long after the berry was gone.

After indulging in the chocolatey delights, you both decided to take a leisurely stroll along the shoreline, the cool sand soft beneath your feet. Hand in hand, you wandered along the water's edge, the gentle rhythm of the waves serenading you as you searched for seashells scattered along the beach.

As you and Rafe walked hand in hand along the beach, the soft glow of the moon illuminated the shoreline, casting a silver sheen upon the sand. The gentle lapping of the waves created a soothing soundtrack to your evening stroll, the rhythmic sound echoing in harmony with the beat of your hearts.

Beneath the starlit sky, you scanned the shoreline, your eyes alight with excitement as you searched for treasures hidden among the sand. With each step, you discovered a new shell or piece of sea glass, each one a tiny marvel of nature's handiwork.

Rafe's laughter mingled with yours as you raced to scoop up the most beautiful shells, your fingers brushing against the smooth, iridescent surfaces. Occasionally, you would stop to examine a particularly intricate specimen, marveling at the delicate patterns etched into its surface.

As you continued your exploration, you shared stories and secrets, your voices blending with the sound of the ocean as you wove your way through the moonlit landscape. With each shared moment, the bond between you grew stronger, a silent promise of love and companionship that stretched out into the vast expanse of the night.

And as you reached the end of your journey, your pockets filled with treasures from the sea, you knew that this night would be etched forever in your memory, a precious moment of connection and joy shared between two souls lost in the magic of the moonlit beach.

As Rafe stumbled through the crowded room, his senses dulled by the alcohol and drugs coursing through his veins, he felt as though he were drowning in a sea of faces. The music pounded in his ears, each beat a relentless reminder of the chaos consuming his mind.

Shoving past strangers, he fought to escape the suffocating confines of the party, his chest heaving with exertion as he finally burst through the door and into the cool night air. Gasping for breath, he collapsed to his knees, the hard ground unforgiving beneath him.

With trembling hands, he pressed against the earth, his fingers digging into the sand as if seeking some anchor in the midst of his turmoil. His heart pounded in his chest, a relentless drumbeat that echoed in the silence of the night.

Gazing up at the vast expanse of stars stretching across the sky, Rafe felt a sense of overwhelming insignificance wash over him. The universe seemed to stretch out endlessly before him, a stark reminder of the vastness of existence and the smallness of his own troubles.

But amidst the vastness of the cosmos, his thoughts were consumed by one singular presence, one name that echoed in the recesses of his mind. He closed his eyes, willing himself to find solace in the memory of you, imagining you somewhere out there, beneath the same starry sky.

As he lay there, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath, he whispered your name into the night, a silent plea for forgiveness, for redemption, for a chance to find his way back to you. But the stars remained indifferent to his plight, their silent witness offering no answers, no solace, only the cold embrace of the infinite.

As Rafe knelt there in the sand, his fingers tracing the familiar contours of the shell bracelet adorning his wrist, a wave of bittersweet nostalgia washed over him. The delicate shells, each one a testament to the cherished memories you had shared together, seemed to whisper your name in the gentle rustle of the ocean breeze.

A single tear welled up in the corner of his eye, reflecting the faint glow of moonlight above. With a trembling hand, he brushed it away, his heart heavy with the weight of longing and regret.

"Y/N," he murmured, the sound barely audible above the soft lapping of the waves. It was a prayer, a plea whispered into the night, a desperate call into the void in hopes of reaching you, wherever you may be.

In that fleeting moment, amidst the chaos of his own unraveling, Rafe found himself clinging to the fragile thread of connection that bound him to you, a thread woven from the memories of love and loss, of laughter and tears.

As he sat there, lost in the labyrinth of his own thoughts, he couldn't help but wonder if somewhere out there, beneath the same sky, you too were feeling the echoes of his silent plea, the whisper of his name carried on the winds of fate.

6 weeks earlier

The soft rays of the morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm golden glow across the room. Rafe stirred, his eyes blinking open as he was gently roused from sleep. The sight that greeted him stole his breath away.

There you were, nestled against him, your head resting on his chest, your features softened in the gentle light. He couldn't help but smile, his heart swelling with a rush of affection as he drank in the sight of you.

Your hand, fingers entwined with the fabric of his shirt, lay lightly against his chest, rising and falling with each steady breath. The rhythmic pattern of your breathing was a comforting melody, a reminder of the peace that enveloped them in this quiet moment.

As he lay there, watching you sleep, he found himself overwhelmed by a flood of emotions. Gratitude, for the simple yet profound beauty of having you by his side. Wonder, at the depths of his feelings for you, deeper than he had ever dared to imagine. And above all, a fierce, unyielding love that filled his heart to the brim.

Gently, so as not to disturb your peaceful slumber, he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch feather-light against your skin. In the soft morning light, you looked like a vision, a breathtaking masterpiece painted by the hand of the dawn.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as he drank in the sight of you, committing every detail to memory. In that quiet, intimate space, he felt a sense of belonging, a certainty that in this moment, everything was as it should be.

With a tender smile playing on his lips, Rafe leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his heart overflowing with love for the sleeping beauty in his arms. And as he held you close, he knew, deep in his soul, that he would cherish this moment for all eternity.

As he ran his fingers through your hair, Rafe marveled at its silky texture, each strand gliding smoothly between his fingertips. The gentle rhythm of his movements mirrored the peaceful cadence of your breathing, creating a harmonious symphony in the quiet of the morning.

Your hair, a cascade of soft waves that framed your face, was a testament to your natural beauty. Each strand seemed to shimmer in the soft morning light, a radiant halo that surrounded you in an ethereal glow.

As his hand traced the contours of your hair, he marveled at its softness, the delicate strands yielding to his touch with a gentle resilience. It was a tactile pleasure, the sensation of your hair sliding through his fingers sending a shiver of warmth down his spine.

With each stroke, he reveled in the intimacy of the moment, the simple act of running his hand through your hair a tender expression of his love and affection. In this quiet sanctuary, surrounded by the gentle embrace of dawn, he felt a profound sense of connection to you, as though the threads of your hair were woven into the fabric of his very being. Lost in the softness of your hair, Rafe found solace in the simple pleasure of your presence, each stroke a silent prayer of gratitude for the precious moments they shared together.

As you slowly fluttered your eyes open, the warmth of the morning sun gently coaxing you from your slumber, you found yourself greeted by the soft gaze of Rafe. His eyes, tender and full of affection, lingered on your face as you began to stir, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you gradually gained awareness of your surroundings, the gentle rustle of the sheets and the comforting weight of Rafe's arm around you grounding you in the present moment. With each passing second, consciousness slowly seeped back into your senses, the world around you coming into sharper focus.

Peering up at Rafe, his features softened by the morning light, you couldn't help but return his gaze, a curious expression dancing in your eyes as you sought to understand the tenderness in his gaze.

"What's on your mind?" you asked, your voice still laced with traces of sleep, a soft murmur that filled the air between you. It was a simple question, born out of a desire to bridge the gap between your dreams and the waking world, to connect with the man whose presence filled your heart with warmth.

Rafe's shoulders lifted in a casual shrug, a gentle smile gracing his lips as he met your gaze. "Just enjoying the view," he replied softly, his voice carrying a warmth that mirrored the morning sun filtering through the window. "You always look so peaceful when you sleep."

His words, spoken with a tenderness that wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, filled the space between you with a quiet intimacy. A soft hum escaped your lips in response, a blush tinting your cheeks as you shifted slightly under his gaze. The warmth of his words enveloped you, casting a tender glow over the morning and deepening the connection between you. It was a moment suspended in time, filled with unspoken sentiments and the gentle cadence of two hearts beating in harmony.

You scanned the room, a sense of urgency creeping into your movements as you searched for your phone. Sitting up, you turned to Rafe, your voice tinged with a hint of concern as you asked, "Rafe, do you know what time it is?"

Rafe, puzzled by your sudden urgency, furrowed his brow slightly before responding, "Um, I'm not sure. Why do you need to know?"

You let out a sigh of relief as you finally found your phone, swiftly checking the time. Upon seeing it, you jumped out of bed in a rush, frantically searching for your scattered belongings. Rafe's voice, filled with concern, broke through your frantic movements as he asked, "What's going on, Y/N?"

You paused for a moment, meeting Rafe's gaze with a hint of apology in your eyes. "I need to pack before I leave," you explained, your tone tinged with urgency.

Rafe's expression darkened, a furrow forming between his brows as he questioned you. "What do you mean? Where are you going?" he asked, a note of concern creeping into his voice.

Your sigh is heavy with resignation as you repeat yourself. "I told you last night. I'm leaving." Rafe's eyes widen in disbelief, his expression shifting from confusion to concern.

"I didn't think you were serious," he admits, his voice tinged with regret.

As you continue to pack with urgency, Rafe's internal turmoil is evident in his tense posture. He wants nothing more than to stop you in your tracks, to plead with you to stay, but he finds himself frozen in place, unable to act as he watches you gather your things. The sight of you tossing in clothes and small gifts from him into your bag feels like a punch to Rafe's gut. Each item is a painful reminder of the moments you shared together, now being packed away as if they never happened.

Rafe clears his throat, his eyes fixed on your busy figure. "Y/N, why are you leaving? Did I do something wrong?" His words hang in the air, heavy with fear and uncertainty.

You pause for a moment, your fingers still entangled in your shirt as you turn to face him. "No, Rafe, it's not that," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just need to go, to figure things out on my own."

Rafe's eyes bore into yours with a look of understanding, even as he struggled to come to terms with your decision to leave. "I'm sorry I couldn't be what you needed, Y/N," he said softly.

You knew Rafe had a lot on his mind, but you couldn't seem to shake the feeling that there was something else he wanted to say. You paused in your packing, watching him closely, when he spoke up again.

"Before you go, can we talk for a moment?" he asked, hope evident in his voice.

You nodded slowly, placing your bag down by the door and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Rafe took a deep breath, trying to find the right words as he sat down beside you. "I know things didn't work out the way we hoped, Y/N," he began, his voice tinged with regret. "But I want to thank you for everything. The memories we shared will always hold a special place in my heart."

You offered a small smile, feeling a sense of sadness and understanding wash over you. "I'll never forget the moments we shared either, Rafe," you replied softly, your voice heavy with emotion. As you spoke, you found yourself reaching out to take Rafe's hand, the warmth of his skin grounding you in the present moment.

As your eyes locked, Rafe squeezed your hand softly, his thumb stroking the back of your palm in a comforting manner. In that moment, everything seemed to fade away, and you felt yourself being pulled into his gaze. His eyes were dark and intense, captivating you in a way that you never quite understood.

"I don't want you to leave," Rafe murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't force you to stay either."

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat almost unbearable. You wanted to stay, you really did. But you knew deep down that you needed to go, to explore the places where your curiosity tugged at your heartstrings.

You pulled your hand away gently, feeling a pang of regret as you stood up. Rafe watched you in silence, a hint of sadness becoming evident in his expression. You knew you had to go, but it would be a lie to say that you didn't feel the weight of leaving him behind. As you gathered your bag, Rafe stood up as well, his voice gentle as he said, "I'll walk you out."

Rafe walks silently with you through the chateau's hallways. The tension between you two is palpable, the air thick with emotion. You both hold back tears as you reach the front door. With shaking hands, you pull the door open, ready to leave.

As you step out into the bright sunshine, an unexpected wave of emotion hits you, making you turn back to face Rafe. You can feel the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes as you look at him for the last time. Rafe smiles at you, his eyes sad yet understanding, and you realize that you will always cherish the memories you made together.

"Goodbye, Rafe," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe steps out of the chateau with you, watching as you put your things in the car. His eyes never leave you, tracing every movement you make with a hint of sorrow. You take a deep breath, trying to calm the emotions that are raging inside you. This is it, you think, this is really happening.

The sound of Rafe's voice snaps you out of your reverie, his words tinged with melancholy. "Will we see each other again?" he asks. You turn to look at him, taking in his pained expression.

You look at Rafe, feeling the weight of his words, and for a moment, you're lost for words. You know that the chances of seeing him again are slim as you have a lot of things to sort out with your life first. You firmly nod your head before whispering your response, "I don't know, Rafe. But I promise to keep in touch." You walked towards him, wrapping your arms as tightly as you could around his neck. The embrace was reassuring, and you both pulled away at the same time- a faint smile shared between you- before you turned to leave.

You start walking back to your car, aware of Rafe's eyes on you, but you don't dare look back. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears, the emotions still raw and fresh, and it's hard to keep the tears at bay. You get into your car, start the engine and take a deep breath. As you're reversing out of the driveway, you finally glance in the rearview mirror, seeing Rafe's silhouette fade into the distance. A bittersweet feeling lingers in your chest, and you silently vow to keep in touch with him, no matter where life takes you.

You turn your eyes back to the road, trying to clear your mind of the emotions that have consumed you. But as you drive on, snippets of your memories with Rafe keep flooding your mind. The warmth of his embrace, the sound of his laugh, the way he made you feel ─ all of it is still so fresh.

The car ride feels like an eternity, each mile taking you farther away from the place you once called home, from the person who had captured your heart. You try to focus on the road ahead, but your mind keeps drifting back to Rafe, to the moments you shared, to the words left unsaid.

As you drive, the memories of your time together play like a movie in your mind. The laughter, the tears, the late-night conversations ─ they all swirl together, a kaleidoscope of emotions that threatens to overwhelm you. You find yourself reaching for the radio, anything to drown out the memories that threaten to consume you.

But even as the music fills the car, you can't escape the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach, the ache of leaving someone behind. You try to push it aside, to focus on the road ahead, but it's no use. Rafe's presence lingers in the air, a ghost haunting your every thought.

As Rafe sits in his car, his hands gripping the steering wheel, he can't shake the feeling of emptiness that washes over him. He looks out at the grand facade of the chateau, the place where you once lived, where you shared moments both joyful and heart-wrenching.

Memories flood his mind, the laughter that echoed through the halls, the quiet moments spent together, the love that once filled the air. But now, all that remains is an eerie silence, a stark reminder of the absence of your presence.

Rafe's gaze lingers on the familiar sight, his heart heavy with longing. He knows that you're gone, that you've left this place behind, but he can't help but feel a sense of loss, as if a piece of him went with you.

He takes a deep breath, trying to push aside the ache in his chest. The realization hits him that he may never see you again, that you've embarked on a journey without him. But even as he grapples with the reality of your absence, he can't deny the lingering feeling of your presence, as if you're still there, just out of reach.

With a heavy heart, Rafe tears his gaze away from the chateau, knowing that it's time to move forward, to let go of the past and embrace whatever the future may hold. But as he drives away, a part of him remains tethered to that place, to the memories of you that will forever haunt him.

───────────────

As weeks pass, life moves forward, albeit with a lingering sense of emptiness for Rafe. On a bright and crisp morning, Rafe finds himself at the golf course, a place where he often retreats to clear his mind and escape the weight of his thoughts.

With his trusted friend Topper by his side, they stroll along the lush green fairways, the sound of their footsteps mingling with the chirping of birds and the gentle rustle of leaves. The sun casts a golden hue over the landscape, casting long shadows that dance across the grass.

Despite the picturesque surroundings, Rafe's mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you and the memories you shared. He swings his club with practiced ease, the rhythmic motion offering a fleeting distraction from the ache in his heart.

Topper, ever the loyal companion, tries to lift Rafe's spirits with lighthearted banter and playful jabs, but the weight of Rafe's sorrow is palpable. They share a few laughs, but underneath it all, there's a sense of melancholy that hangs in the air.

As they make their way through the course, Rafe finds himself lost in thought, his mind wandering back to moments spent with you, the laughter, the love, the bittersweet memories that refuse to fade.

But even as he grapples with the pain of your absence, Rafe knows that life must go on. With each swing of his club, he's reminded that there's still hope for the future, that perhaps one day, the ache in his heart will heal, and he'll find peace once more.

The bev cart girl approaches Rafe and Topper with a warm smile, her voice cheery as she offers them drinks. Topper, quick to respond, places an order without hesitation, but Rafe's attention drifts elsewhere.

Confusion furrows his brow as he looks around, searching for JJ who should have been the one handling this task. The absence of his friend weighs heavily on his mind, a reminder of the changes that have taken place in their lives since you left.

"Hey, where's JJ?" Rafe asks, his tone tinged with concern as he turns back to the bev cart girl, hoping for an explanation. The thought of JJ not being around raises questions in his mind.

The bev cart girl's bubbly demeanor falters for a moment as she registers Rafe's question. She shifts uncomfortably before offering a tentative response.

"Um, I heard he had some family stuff going on," she says, her tone uncertain as if she's unsure of the exact details herself. "But he just said it was time for a change, you know?"

Rafe nods slowly, a mixture of concern and understanding clouding his features. The news of JJ quitting catches him off guard, leaving him with a sense of unease about the changes happening around him. He exchanges a quick glance with Topper, both silently processing the unexpected turn of events.

As the realization dawns on Rafe, a tinge of confusion and anger stirs within him. He pieces together the fact that JJ's sudden departure likely coincided with yours, and the thought sends a sharp pang through his heart.

The idea of you leaving the island with JJ instead of him ignites a whirlwind of emotions within Rafe. Anguish, jealousy, and a profound sense of loss swirl together, threatening to overwhelm him. He clenches his jaw, trying to push down the surge of hurt and resentment that bubbles up inside him.

Turning away from the bev cart girl, Rafe forces himself to focus on the task at hand. He nods curtly, declining the offer for drinks, his mind now consumed by thoughts of you and JJ. Deep down, he knows he shouldn't let himself dwell on what might have been, but the ache in his chest refuses to subside.

Topper observes the sudden shift in Rafe's mood, sensing the weight of his unspoken thoughts. Concern flickers across his features as he notices Rafe's unease. "Hey, man, you alright?" he asks, his voice laced with genuine concern.

Rafe's mind is already racing, grappling with the implications of JJ's departure. He doesn't waste a moment in voicing his suspicions. "Do you think it's weird that JJ coincidentally left right after Y/N did?" he questions, his tone tinged with a mixture of frustration and longing.

Topper's eyebrows knit together in thought as he considers Rafe's question. "Yeah, it does seem a bit strange," he admits, his voice lowered to match Rafe's intensity. "But maybe it's just a coincidence, you know?"

Despite Topper's attempt to rationalize the situation, Rafe can't shake the feeling of unease that gnaws at him. The timing of JJ's departure feels too convenient, too closely intertwined with your own exit from the island. As he wrestles with his emotions, Rafe can't help but wonder if there's more to the story than meets the eye.

Rafe's mind races with possibilities, each one more troubling than the last. His heart clenches with the realization that JJ might have left the island with you, a thought that fills him with a potent mix of jealousy and regret.

"I don't know, man," Rafe mutters, his voice heavy with uncertainty. "It just feels… off, you know?"

Topper nods in understanding, his expression mirroring Rafe's concern. "Yeah, I get what you mean," he replies, his tone sympathetic. "But maybe there's a perfectly reasonable explanation for it. We shouldn't jump to conclusions."

Despite Topper's attempt to soothe his friend's worries, Rafe can't shake the feeling of unease that grips him. His thoughts drift back to you, the memory of your departure still fresh in his mind. He wonders where you are now, what you're doing, and whether you're happy.

As the weight of his emotions threatens to overwhelm him, Rafe takes a deep breath, steeling himself against the uncertainty that lies ahead. Whatever the truth may be, one thing remains clear: he can't let go of the lingering hope that one day, he'll see you again. And when that day comes, he'll be ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead, if only to find closure and peace in your absence.

taglist: @ellesalazar, @champomiel, @vadinaleme, @kys4-20, @gills-lounge, @allsmilesreally7, @sublimepenguinpeach-blog, @sp00ky-spr1te, @bibliophilewednesday, @haroldpotterson, @i-love-rafe, @ellesalazar, @calmoistorm, @abundantxadorations, @fals3-g0d, @gillybear17, @oiiviagrande, @hockeybabe87, @augustlikesdeath, @wpdailyminimeta, @palmwinemami, @loxleys-blog, @ikisscline, @flyestvenustrap, @ilovesteveharrngton, @ijustwanttoreadlols, @fastlovela, @wickedlovely121, @fals3-g0d, @givemylovetoall, @lucfics, @briefwinnerpersonaturtle, @maybankslover, @peachy4u2, @hockeybabe87, @yeosxxx

author's note!!!: soo we finally made it here and i want to thank everyone for their immense love and support for this series. i have a special place in my heart for this series, so with that being said, the story must go on!! i will be releasing a sequel of this story, taking you on an even BIGGER journey with y/n and rafe. thank you so much for the love again, and i can't wait for you to get to read series two!!

[punk-in-docs]

‼️ LUST AT FIRST BITE‼️

The Lost Boys AU, feat; Vamp!Frances x Human!Birdie

3.9k words

Summary: He’s tucked away where he usually is. Playing at the lie of life, watching on from the shadows, up on the roof of the tacky gift shop, puffing on a cigarette. A lone evil fiery eye cutting in the dark. Eyes scraping over every pretty person in this crowd, and seeing who, oh who, will be his dinner.

Eenie. Meenie. Miney. You-

(The awesome blood drip banner is not mine! I found on @riottsrph ‘s page. Thank you!)

Santa Carla, 1987

The boardwalk was always packed with people. Heaving in summer. Air full of noise and screams from the denizens on the giant dipper. The snaking notched backbone that arches, governs, over this place. Gulls shriek. Flickering glare of neon and flashing bulbs filling your sight everywhere. Greedy eyes don’t know where to rest first.

People flock to this place in their hundreds. This colourful edifice that exudes joy and junk food fuelled adrenaline. Teenage euphoria, arcade games and fast thrills, right next to walls plastered with flapping scales of forever-mounting missing posters. Twitching in the sea air as people sagged with worry, gather and weep and pin up even more. Hollow smiles, dead black and white eyes, all unseeing, plead from flyers.

Too many flyers.

You had to bob and weave to get anywhere in this dense bubbling crowd.

His hand is firmly tucked in yours. Smell of sugary popcorn and hot dogs is ripe, carried with sea foam on hot summer air. Gusting over your heads as you move along.

You met Nick in the pizzeria just off the boardwalk. You’d gone for a night out with friends. You both bonded damn near instantly over pineapple on pizza. Avid fans, addicts even. You ate pizza. He flirted. You flirted back.

He comped your meal when you went to pay. “On the house babe.” With a grin that should be snapped in vogue. Stunning,

Way too stunning, even in his company issue yellow and red polo tee with the pizzeria name embroidered on the breast.

He asked you to wait by the Wave Jammer for him after his shift finished. You did. The girls send you off freshly glossed and hair fluffed, sniggering.

He walked you to your bus stop when the boardwalk lights began to dim. Clicking off one by one. Sodium streetlights the only things leaving their dozy glow. The sound of the sea lashing sand in the distance. He gave you a sweet mind melting kiss. Backed by the harmony of waves and denizens screams. Passed you a glossy pizza flyer with his number scrawled right on it in thick marker.

He’d called. He’d swung by and taken you out. Your second date had been in a cheap mom and pop trattoria uptown. Candlelight, cheap Chianti, and happy conversation which quickly ended with you screwing each others brains out, up against the brick wall in the filthy back alley with your panties dangling off your ankle.

And now here you were- on your fourth date. Quickly becoming drunk on touch. You wandered the arcade dodging sugar buzzed kids, cheeks sticky with cotton candy, and abrasive punks with neon spiked hair. You were chatting easy, and flirting over arcade games.

Tasting sea salt and red slushy off his tongue. You tugged each other along and pulled too and fro like the inky tide wrapped up in the night just beyond the border of sand and the fierce orange lick of oil can bonfires on the beach. Life was fit to burst with fun. You were young and had lovesick heart eyes for each other.

He kept on ushering you close and kissing you again. Hand across your waist. Balmy hot. Even through your dress. It’s a strappy dress, bright purple like amethyst or lilac petals. You let your hair loose. Kinky and big in the humid sea air. Lou Gramm is playing clunky rock music over the speakers.

Nick is just next level gorgeous. You have to admit. Literally panty dropping. Lips rose pink. Caramel skin. Long lashes which kiss his cheeks like he’s Bambi. Smile like a damn Calvin Klein model. And the dark sweep of coiffed curls to match. One cross earring glimmers against the backdrop of his hair.

You keep sneaking your hand in the back pocket of his trousers. Disgustingly crushing on this man. The way he loops his arm to your waist though, says he returns very that sentiment.

He looks totally casual here next to you in bleach blue jeans, sneakers, and a blood wine shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Arm slung around your waist as you lean at the balustrade looking down onto the beach opposite a tacky tourist gift shop selling keychains and chalk painted rocks. Snow globes swirl with chunky glitter from glass shelves in the window.

His arm suddenly squeezes you in closer when a gaggle of dirt bikes shriek their way up the board walk toward you, pedestrians scattered like ripples on waves to avoid being mowed flat. Four bikes. You can hear seedy rock blasting from a boom box that one of them has strapped to their bikes. WASP, you think. All shriek and shred.

They weave and race through the thinning crowds. Whooping and hollering like a pack of feral hyenas. Tongues out. Grinning sneers at people like Jack O’Lanterns. One with a backcombed blonde mullet that’s stiff with product, and made you think of a lions mane, makes a crazed face at you both. Tongue pointing out his mouth as he leers at you both especially. Tight white pants on and a swallow tail pointed coat like a dam circus ringleader flying behind him. He’s looking you up a down with a flick of his eyes. Hungrily.

As soon as they came, all noise, filth and fury, they go. Racing fast off into the night in a stinking cloud of engine exhaust and harrowing, whooping cackles.

“Jerks.” You scoff derisively. Glaring after the deafening bikes. Had Nick not pulled you in they’d have knocked you flat. He nuzzled your jawbone. Kisses you there too.

“It’s alright baby. I got you.” He smiles. You put your hand on his. Thankful. You kiss him again. His hand comes up and cups the back of your head.

It’s then you first feel it.

Something stings on your skin. Sudden and sharp. Mean. Like a bite, or a pinch. A little drop of sulphuric acid. Right at the nape of your neck. Feeling of your hair standing up on end. Skin turns to poison pinpricks.

Someone’s eyes were on you.

You pull back, Nick’s hand slips back on your neck, you’re glancing around trying to see through the thronging clouds, to catch whoever was looking at you. Your hair whips around your face from the sea air. The breeze that wraps your skin.

It brings the smell of you right on across to him. Past the stench of hot dogs, salty sandy air, and sea froth. Sweat and cheap perfume, plus the scent of some recently used pink bar soap caught in the crease of your elbow.

Drifting across. Calling to him the same way that throb of your carotid does. A full lively artery housed under sweat stroked skin. He bets you taste simply delicious. Syrupy like hot honey. He’s salivating already.

He’s tucked away where he usually is. Playing at the lie of life, watching on from the shadows, up on the roof of the tacky gift shop, puffing on a cigarette. A lone evil fiery eye cutting in the dark. Eyes scraping over every pretty person in this crowd, and seeing who, oh who, will be his dinner.

Eenie. Meenie. Miney. You-

He’s up there. Keeping shadows company. Wind carving around him on the roof. Wrapped up in a big bomber leather jacket, the words ‘GO TO HELL’ scrawled across his back in white letters, emblazoned with rhinestones. An assortment of buckles and zips hanging off him, where he perched like a bat - a bat fresh off the brooding Bauhaus nightclub scene. Not even the Santa Carla heat could penetrate his skin and warm his old, dead bones.

Bones, under lean muscles and skin glittering in so much jewellery. Studs and chains hang off his shoulders. and biker boots. Many chains, necklaces, one strand of pearls and a rosary, dripping with crosses linked across his neck - darkly ironic nature of that made him smile. A gothic dipped punk bearing holy crosses. Eyes lined in kohl. Scratchy tattoos on his arms. Fingers layered in goth rings. Daggers in hearts. Crosses and bejewelled skulls. Billy Idol eat your fucking heart out.

Don’t tempt him actually. He’s too hungry. He’d swallow a heart tonight in one clean bite.

Hair slicked back on his head, coming to a kinked curl where it brushes his collar. Eyes dipped into cinnamon brown. But in all these neons they seemed to drop acidly into nasty black. Wide and dark like a cats. Something that definitely prowls and lopes around with grave grace. Danger simmers to a boil constantly around him and every gang on this boardwalk has learned the hard way not to mess. He’s made ugly reminders when those moron gangs get too big for their knock off DM boots.

He will serve grisly reminders of why he’s the top of the food chain here - with great feral pleasure. He’s been here since before the boardwalk itself even existed. Way back when it was a victorian bathhouse for fucks sake.

He takes a deep pull. Plucks the fiery cig from his smirking mouth. Fingernails blunt and chipped painted black underneath his fingerless leather gloves. Teeth too white and sharp as he smiles. Marlboro smoke curling around carnivore teeth.

He flicks the cigarette away. Sparks spray across the roof where it lands. Done with it. He’s found his next source of satisfaction. His hunger is awake and roaming. Baying for a feed.

He watches your date take your hand. Twirl you in his arms so your hair and your pretty skirts fly. He leads you towards the cotton candy stand. You can hear the old timey jangle of fun fair music. He likes the thought of pure spun sugar - blue as cornflowers - being ready for him on the bed of your tongue.

A smirk writ across his lips as he steps, then drops fully into the shadows behind the building. His sturdy boots crunch on fast food trash as he lands. Greasy puddles capturing neon signs make up this back alley. Now his blood is pumping hot. He licks his lips.

You’re on the carousel when you feel it come back again. Stronger. Nearer. You feel a gaze burn the back of your head like someone’s stubbing out a cigarette on you.

So sudden it makes you pull back from his kiss - like you’d been suddenly jabbed with a huge hypodermic needle. Felt the chilling flush of cold poison slide into your blood.

Cause baby, that’s him all over.

Every inch caustic, acidic poison.

The worst of the very worst, of hell’s lowest dredgings.

A flush of unease grabs you. Gasping, you twist from where you’re sat on the horse. Holding the twisted pole. Bracelet sliding down your arm. That sensation- it scared you.

Music whirls in your ears. Sea air laced with the scent of kettle corn pulses around you with the red and yellow lights. You peer around to try and see in-between the poles and crowds.

You can’t see anything noticeable. No one stands out. They’re all blurs and distortion whizzing by you to a chirpy carnival tune. You watch for eyes to meet yours as you dip and bob on the horse, and none come.

“Babe?” Nick asks you. His dark brows creasing in the middle from your sudden flinching away.

Hand comes warm and comforting on your arm. Trying to bring you back. You turn. But your stomach is squirming with unease. You mask it with a smile. Sweet as the huge cotton candy he just bought you.

“It’s nothing...” You chirp. A Lie. Your hand back on his again. Letting his comforting smile buoy you. You settle your attention back to him. Not to the graze on your skin that’s coiling your spine like a fucking venom spitting serpent.

“Why don’t I go and get us something to drink huh? Maybe a lemonade?” He suggests. Swinging around the horse and lifting the back of your hand to his mouth to kiss it. The other is rubbing the back of your neck. Soothing way your clammy panic.

It makes you smile. His doting on you. Made you feel like you hung the stars. With your head spinning and your nerves nudged into the wrong side of uneasy, you could use some sugar and a welcome distraction.

“That would be great, actually...” You smile. It feels hollow even to your mind. Your head is spinning like a top on this carousel and you want something sweet to wash everything sour thats nipping at your mind, away.

He kisses you sweetly on the lips. Taste of sea salt and cherry slushie again. Savouring him before he goes. Ralph Lauren cologne. His soft curls through your fingers before he steps away. And then with a flash of that stunning smile, he hops off the carousel, and within a minute he’s gone. Swallowed into the heaving crowds.

So you bob and dip on the carousel horse all on your own. Watching the room fly by in a twirl of chilli red and golden yellow.

You’re not without company for very long.

Distracted, you scan the entrance to the carousel for Nick on what must be your final whirl around.

So distracted are you, head turned, back to him. It allows him to sneak in.

Your spine once again turns to scraping prodding needles when a drift of something comes over your shoulder. Something insidious slides to your conscious; something acrid yet smooth you take notice of. You liken it to whiskey. Smooth yet rough all at once. You hate whiskey.

Smoky cigarettes bittered with engine exhaust. A sweet tinge of cotton candy. Copper metal, warm pennies. The heavy presence of someone lingering behind you. The brush of a clammy leather jacket. The sound of a leather glove squeezing and twisting on the pole of the horse opposite you.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing riding all on her own?” Comes a dulcet purr from beside you.

You look at the source of this voice; seeing nothing but a trouble wrapped punk suddenly stood next to you. As if materialised from the same acrid engine smoke that clings to his leathers.

Brown eyes deep enough to dive in. In this light, they are black as a cats. A smirk on his face that makes you shiver. Lips so plump and beautiful it made you think of kisses - plump lips slick with too much spit and wet tongues. He had lips that looked like paradise - the likes you’ve seen only in seedy pornos. However. Trouble virtually hummed through him like a live wire. Get too close risk getting your fingers singed, girl. Burnt ozone.

“Looking like a lost little baby bird. All alone out your nest.” He comments as you frown at him.

“I’m not on my own. I’m with someone.”You tell him. Steely ire woven to your words like chain mail. Back off creep.

“Lucky someone.” He shoots back. All panther smooth. Packed with flirt. Eyes roaming down to your legs and back up again. He can smell that pretty boys cologne and sweat he’d rubbed all over you. The stink of some prissy designer cologne. That won’t do at all.

“Can’t convince you to ditch them can I? Baby.” He smirks. Prowling around you.

“I got a bike. We could take a little drive up the beach a ways down west. Past the bluff. I know a cosy little spot. Get a campfire going.” He charms.

You feel the imperative need to keep your eyes on him. Untrusting.

He moves with such liquid fluidity not even the whirl of the carousel affects his gait. Walks with a cocksure pace like he owns the place. He’s done this before. Doubtless.

“No thanks.” You reply archly. You know trouble when it comes loping up to your side in eyeliner and jangling jewellery. Plain as the nose on your face.

Of course it doesn’t put him off one bit. It makes him dig his teeth in deeper. With glee. The challenge was the tastiest part of the chase.

He chuckles. “Only, I’m awful curious. Never seen you round here before. Now, I’d sure as shit remember a pretty face like yours.”

“I’m not a tourist. I live here.” You reply snippily. You live but two miles from here. With your dying houseplant for company and dead end job. Your only relative being your old blind great aunt, Rositsa.

“And I don’t remember wanting an annoying prick to come crashing my date, trying his luck and barking up the wrong tree entirely.” You snap back. A pretty little nasty smile on your lips. Sweet like cherries and cream.

“Breaking my heart over here, sugar.” He smiles. Undeterred.

You doubt he had one to break.

He was all smarm and swagger. Definitely sans heart.Probably had tried it on with any easy party girl who got drunk and made moony love eyes in his direction. He seems like he has some void inside. Something he tried to fill with stranger sex and drugs and trouble. And blood.

And it’s something he’ll never be able to satiate. Not with all the infinite time he’s literally got viced in his leather gloved hands.

So he daggers his way through these crowds. Chows down cheap boardwalk takeout from the golden dragon right out the cartoon. Sneaks into rides without paying. Pick pockets sunburnt tourists. Snorts lines of angel dust off filthy bathroom counters. Throws molly down his neck every night and washes it down with tequila shots. Endlessly abrasive to all authority and flirting with anything bearing a pulse. Dynamite pace predator life. Undisputed King of this neon arcade kingdom.

“Maybe I could bark up the right tree.” He seeks.

“My date will be back soon.” You say. In the hopes it shakes him off. Makes him get a clue.

“He seems to be taking his sweet ass time. Doesn’t he…. Maybe he got lost.” He decides. Voice all sing song and light.

Swaying in closer like you aren’t giving him ‘fuck off’ vibes. Eyeing daggers. How he so likes sharp things. Lust that feels like it could prick skin it’s so sharp. Theres smoke and something mysteriously copper on his breath.

“Maybe there’s a line.” You concede. Boredly done with this conversation. The carousel has to be coming to a stop soon. You want to get off this ride. It’s not fun anymore.

“Maybe he’s gotten distracted by something leggy and pretty…” He remarks with a raise of his brows. “No shortage of skirt round here.” He grins.

It feels like swallowing a boulder to admit to that. Nick was a flirt, sure. You guys weren’t exclusive. But that nasty shred of doubt made a home in your stomach. Birthed anxiety in your veins.

“Listen jerk, go play around with someone else, alright.” You snap. Eyes narrowed You pull your purse strap on your shoulder. You slip off your horse and come to stand. Ready to get off. Rides no fun anymore.

“Names Frances.” He supplies. “And uh, I’m good baby bird. Don’t have anywhere else I gotta be.”

“Lucky me.” You bite out. Tone all sharp poison.

Oh, he wanted to take you home right now and turn your goddamn bed into a crime scene - or the aftermath of a porno shoot. Maybe both if he’s feeling generous.

“Now, If you wouldn’t mind y’know….fucking off…” You make a move to pass him. You’re gonna go find Nick.

He doesn’t budge an inch.

You stand firm. Chest to chest. His arms make brackets against the poles. Closing you in. He tilts his head. The kink in his hair brushes against his collar. A ruinous little curl comes loping over his forehead.

“Come find me if you want a real date. Little bird. I’ll make good and sure that you won’t be able to walk afterwards.” He smirks.

Before reaching one half leather clad finger over to brush a curl of hair back over your bare shoulder. His touch leaves goosebumps in its wake. Serpent slither down your spine that claws at your heels. Flushed arsenic in your blood.

“I’ll make it hard for you to walk right now if you don’t get out my way.” You threaten.

He seemed mildly turned on by the idea. “Promise or a threat?” He checks.

“Move.” Comes bitten out your mouth. All low and venomous. He likes the shape of your lips when you’re angry. Lush. Angry. He likes your lipstick too. Love to taste that.

“I hang out by the arcade. Join me when you doubtlessly get bored of that sad sack boy.” He smiles as if it’s certain. As if he already has your agreement on the subject. Loitering in the nearest arcade shadow near you, ready.

“I’ll be waiting, Birdie.” He whispers filthily into your ear. Too close for comfort.

A zip of danger as you feel hot cigarette breath ghost over the tip of your ear. His chest front brushing yours. Zips and buckles and necklaces. Cold. Makes heart race like hypoxia. You feel drunk and stunned. Scary drunk. And stunned in a nasty stinging way - like you’ve been electrified and can’t move.

You actually feel your heart internally jolt when he puts his mouth to your cheek. Presses a kiss to your cheekbone that you feel sink into your bones like acid.

You jolt. The ride slows to a stop.

You blink back into reckoning, peering around. In amongst the bubbling crowds of teens getting off. Parting around your prone form like water around a rock as you lean on the horse for mercy. You can’t see him. He’s gone. In a snap of leather and seemingly, the blink of an eye. A puff of smoke. Like those old magicians in black and white movies - masking exit in a cloud of silvery sulphur.

You get off the ride and fight your way through the throngs to come out to the boardwalk. The endless ocean before you. Black as spades as the waves lash the shore. Music follows you as you walk along to the food stands.

You kept scanning the crowds. Hoping one face would resemble his. That he’d be walking back to you with that million dollar white smile, and a couple cups of lemonade in his hands. You keep searching.

Nothing.

You get to the food stalls. Spend a lot of time weaving around people, darting tourists and sugar high kids, and hoping to catch sight of him.

Your once buoyant heart begins to sink low in your chest. Clunking down each and every one of your ribs like a bowling ball. Crushing your lungs.

You hang around by the stands, leaning against the railing, feeling the balmy wind and sea air whip your hair around. You keep scanning. Hoping this nasty little voice in your head was wrong. That he’s just lost in the crowds, and he’ll catch up to you eventually.

It’s when the crowds begin to thin out, that the last remainders of your hope does too. Strangled to a silent suffocating death.

You check your watch. They’d be closing the boardwalk gates soon. The neon lights would dim. The only sound left soon will be the papery rattle of those missing flyers where they are pinned.

You walk briskly for your bus stop in heels that are starting to pinch. Your heart the same state as your feet - ragged and sore. You brush away tears with the back of your hand as they fall. You tell yourself it’s the salt in the sea air you can taste. That’s all.

You’d let hope make a home. More fool you.

Eyes, black as a cats, watch your back all the way from the building roof where he hides. Half cloaked in shadow. Lighting up again. Wiping drips of blood from the corner of his mouth.

He smeared his mouth on his leather jacket sleeve before putting the cigarette between his teeth. Chuckling as he pulled smoke in with crimson smeared teeth. Blood rush - singing with bliss and euphoria.

His poor lost baby bird. All on her own.

❤️ Tagging the JQ babes; lmk if you want removing or adding pls ❤️

@indouloureux @trashmouth-richie @atabigail @lunatictardis @waywardrose @hillarymurray4 @lurkingprincess @ramona-thorns @joequinnswhore @iliveforotps @eddiesskittle @rose-tinted @lluviamg06 @ravensfromvalhalla @fujiihime @youaremyfamiliar @captain-tch @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @svenyves @sammararaven @feralgoblinbabe @groupie-love-71 @andromeda-andromeda @morganamoonstone @gvtosbith @munsonswhoresposts2 @shenevertricks1831 @hazzaismyreligion @sugarcoated-lame @anaisweird @cinnamoncunt @red-lipstick-bisexual @wheels-of-despair @tvserie-s-world @callmeloverr @ho-for-joequinn-fics @bettyfrommars @rip-quizilla @songforeddiemunson @cool-nick-miller @sheneedsrocknroll92 @rehfan @pedgito @dracomaledicte @gamingaquarius @mypoisonedvine @ddejavvu @sharp-and-swift t

[unboundprompts]

Could you do book titles for a story where the main characters are having fun while the world(literally or metaphorically) burns around them?

Titles for the Juxtaposition of Fun and Chaos in a World on Fire

-> feel free to edit as you see fit.

Dancing Through the Flames

Fire and Foolishness

Laughing in the Ashes

Sparks of Joy in a Burning World

Joyride Through the Inferno

When the Sky Falls

The Last Dance Before Dawn

Embers of Euphoria

Beneath the Burning Sky

Mirth Among the Ruins

Revelry in the Ashen Sky

Fleeting Joys in a Fractured World

Dancing on the Edge of Oblivion

Cinders of Delight

Carving Light from the Dark

Sunshine Amidst the Smoke

Laughter in the Light of Embers

Chasing Stars in a Fiery Sky

Hope Blooms in Flames

Dancing on the Smoldering Ground

[alwaysmicado]

save your tears

4.6k | 18+ MDNI | Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings: dubcon (sex while high), alcohol & drugs, unprotected piv, rough sex, choking, loss of virginity, mention of blood, degradation/praise, hurt no comfort, mean!Dieter Summary: It’s your lucky night! Your favorite movie star, Dieter Bravo, picks you up at a club and takes you home. You don’t want to blow it by telling him you’re a virgin, do you? A/N: Never meet your heroes...and please don’t fuck Dieter Bravo raw without seeing a notarized STD test first. I’m super excited to share this fic with you and I really hope you’ll enjoy it!! Let me know your thoughts! ♥︎

Dieter Bravo masterlist ♡ main masterlist

Another kiss with a stranger, another fiery shot of tequila, another night immersed in the opulence of a luxurious club in the heart of Beverly Hills.

The pulsating beat of the music reverberates through the venue, drowning out any coherent thought. A sea of bodies sways in a synchronized rhythm, lost in the intoxication of the music, the free-flowing drinks, and the swirling lights.

You and your friends are no exception, caught up in the vibrant chaos of the dance floor, laughing and moving to the infectious energy of the night.

The tight dress you’ve chosen for the night clings to your every curve, a sleek fabric that accentuates the enticing contours of your body. Its deep, midnight black hue embraces you like a second skin, tracing the delicate curve of your breasts, descending sensuously over your torso, and accentuating the gentle swell of your hips.

As you move, the straps, delicate and barely there, become ethereal threads, caressing your skin with each sway and twirl on the dance floor. The dress’s neckline is daring, a subtle plunge that hints at mystery and allure, inviting the eyes to linger for just a moment longer.

Your choice of footwear is equally as captivating. The heels, sleek and strappy, elevate your posture and add a tantalizing sway to your every step. The ensemble not only looks exquisite but feels like a second skin. In this carefully chosen outfit, you feel an undeniable sense of confidence and allure – you feel like a goddess.

As the night progresses, and a few shots later, you find yourself losing inhibitions with each beat. The alcohol warms your veins, and the euphoria of the moment takes over. The atmosphere inside the club is charged with excitement, the air thick with the scent of perfume, sweat, and anticipation.

And then you see him.

Amidst the crowd, your gaze collides with a pair of intense, dark eyes that seem to cut through the chaotic haze. Recognition strikes you like a bolt of lightning – Dieter Bravo, the famous Oscar winner, stands at the fringes of the dance floor, his gaze fixed on you.

The look in his eyes is predatory, stirring desire deep within you. He gestures with a subtle nod of his head towards the exit, a silent command that sends your heart racing.

You excuse yourself to your friends, your words lost in the overwhelming discord of music and laughter. They barely register your departure, the night unfolding in a blur of colors and sound. The crisp air outside is a welcome contrast, a momentary escape from the heated chaos within.

You take a deep breath.

Before you know what’s happening, a strong pair of hands seizes you, pushing you against the cold exterior wall of the club. It’s Dieter, his eyes burning with desire as he takes in the sight of you. His words come out in a low, husky whisper that sends shivers down your spine.

“You’re so beautiful, baby, I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” he confesses, his breath hot against your ear. You’re trembling slightly as he pulls back a little to look into your eyes, one hand planted on the wall next to your head, the other gently cupping your hot cheek. His touch sends a jolt through your entire being and your skin tingles beneath his fingertips.

“Why don’t we take this party to a more private setting, hm? My place is just around the corner,” he murmurs, his gaze searching yours for a sign of rejection.

His proposition hangs in the air, a surreal moment that seems too fantastical to be real. Dieter Bravo, a man renowned for having his pick of any woman he desires, wants you to come home with him?

You hesitate for a fleeting moment, the thrill and exhilaration of the unexpected encounter mingling with a feeling of unease. Is this a good idea?

Oh, fuck it. 

With a breathless nod, you give in to the magnetic pull of his desire. You’re never gonna get a chance like this again in your life.

Dieter’s eyes flicker with satisfaction at your willingness and a self-assured smirk plays on his lips. “Smart choice, beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice low and seductive, intertwining with the rhythm of the music coming from inside.

With a confident yet gentle touch, he guides you to his waiting car, his warm palm resting on the small of your back.

His driver awaits, a stoic figure leaning against the passenger door with crossed arms, well-acquainted with the routine of escorting the renowned womanizer and his conquests. The man looks a few years older than Dieter, and as you approach, you can’t help but ponder the untold tales and silent observations this seasoned driver must harbor as living witness to the enigmatic world of his famous boss.

Dieter leans in to whisper something into the driver’s ear, a private exchange that ends with a wink and a grin directed at you. With a confident saunter, he rounds the car, slipping into the back seat from the other side.

“Good evening, Miss,” the driver greets you with a practiced courtesy, opening the back door and gesturing for you to step inside. In that fleeting moment, as he meets your gaze, you detect a subtle flicker of concern in his eyes, swiftly masked before you fully register its presence.

You swiftly dismiss the uneasy feeling that briefly fluttered within you and gracefully slide into the luxurious car, taking the seat beside Dieter. The plush interior envelops you, a cocoon of opulence that showcases the movie star’s wealth. As the door closes with a muted thud, the insulating quiet of the vehicle amplifies your anticipation.

The car ride is a blur of sensations.

Dieter pulls you onto his lap, his lips finding yours in a fervent kiss. His hands explore the contours of your body, a mix of escalating desire and urgency palpable in every touch. 

Glancing at the rearview mirror, the driver is a silent witness to a scene that unfolds with unsettling familiarity. Dieter’s reputation as a notorious womanizer is well-known, but the silent driver remains impassive, steering the car towards your destination.

“Fuck, baby,” Dieter whispers against your lips, his erection straining painfully against his pants. “You wanna sit on my cock right here or wait ‘til we’re home?”

You sensuously roll your hips, and he responds by squeezing your ass, a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips at the tantalizing friction.

“I want you to take me in your bed,” you purr, as the champagne and tequila flowing through your veins embolden you.

“Alright, beautiful,” he murmurs between sloppy kisses to your neck and jaw, his hand tracing the delicate skin of your shoulder before sliding down the strap of your dress with practiced ease. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

Every word Dieter utters, every caress of his hands, the heady scent of his cologne—the fact that your idol, a man larger than life, is currently drunk off your beauty—adds fuel to the intoxicating fire that courses through your body, making you acutely aware of the pulsating ache and growing wetness between your thighs.

You’ve never wanted to fuck anyone this badly.

Dieter slides down the other strap of your dress, the fabric yielding to his touch as he pulls it down, leaving it to pool around your waist and revealing your naked chest.

“Goddamn, your tits are perfect,” he whispers in awe, his hands tracing a delicate path from your shoulders down to your breasts, cupping one in each hand. “I almost forgot how good real ones feel.”

Your smile widens in response to his comment, relishing the sensation of Dieter Bravo praising your tits.

He massages them, softly at first, his touch a gentle prelude that gradually escalates in intensity as you wrap your arms around his neck, deepening your kiss, moaning against his lips. Your body responds eagerly, writhing on his lap, your swollen clit rhythmically rubbing against his hard bulge, each movement eliciting a wave of pleasure that has your eyes fluttering shut and your back arching.

Dieter leans in, spurred on by the movement of your body and your little moans of pleasure, pressing your tits together with a hunger that mirrors his escalating passion. His kisses are sloppy, a mixture of lust and possessiveness as he licks and sucks on your nipples, twirling his tongue around them.

The sensations alternate between pleasure and a tingling pain as he bites down, eliciting a desperate whimper from you that he hungrily absorbs by pressing his lips against yours once more. 

“This your first time fucking a real movie star, baby?” he murmurs, trailing kisses and bites down your sensitive neck.

Your head is spinning, and it takes you a few seconds to register what he just asked you. Even if it weren’t true, you’d be smart enough to stroke his famously big ego and tell him what he wants to hear. But, in this case, it is true.

“Yeah,” you breathe, your fingers tangled in his now-disheveled curls.

God, his hair is soft. The thought crosses your mind that being a millionaire must afford you great hair care. Just one of the perks of being one of the chosen ones, you muse with a smile.

“I promise you’ll be thinking of me every time you fuck someone else after I’m done with you, darling,” he smirks at you, satisfied with the fact he’s the first man of his stature you’ve experienced.

If he wasn’t already rock-hard before, he would be now.

You giggle and bite your lip, your dilated pupils telling Dieter everything he needs to know – you want him as badly as he wants you.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you purr, leaning in to suck and nibble on his neck while rolling your hips again.

“Oh shit,” he whispers, letting his head fall against the headrest and gripping your hips with his hands. “I knew you were a bad girl the second I saw you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Good girls don’t rub their needy little pussy on some stranger’s cock minutes after they met.” His breathing is strained, and he needs to concentrate hard to not come in his pants. “Good girls also don’t let me do a line off their perfect tits.” 

You pull back a little to look into his eyes, and he raises an eyebrow.

Against your better judgment, you nod, and he reaches into the right pocket of his pants to retrieve the biggest coke baggie you’ve ever seen. Goddamn, how does this guy get any acting gigs done if he does massive amounts of coke like this? His manager must be nothing short of a god.

“Push them together, baby,” he says, watching hungrily as you take your tits and press them together to create enough surface for him to put his powder on. “Fuck, that’s it.”

He pours a generous amount onto your skin, creating a line with his finger.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” he murmurs, planting a kiss on your warm lips. His gaze drops to the line of coke on your tits before he lowers his head, presses a finger on his right nostril, and inhales the powder in one swift motion.

The lewd, forbidden feeling of letting him do drugs off your body has your pussy clench around nothing. You’re beyond turned on.

“Phew!” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “This is some primo shit, holy fuck. You wanna try?”

Dieter’s eyes find yours as he wipes his nose and tilts his head. “You’re never gonna find something this pure again.”

“Sure, why not,” you coo, succumbing to the excitement of the moment. One more bad decision’s not gonna kill you, right?

“Such a bad girl,” he murmurs with a smirk, then pours some coke on the back of his hand. He arranges it in a line for you and brings it closer to your face.

The fine white powder lies on his skin like a whisper of the night, and with a quick, controlled motion, you inhale. The sensation is immediate, a rush that starts from the point of contact and spirals into a heady euphoria. The sharp intensity sends a tingling sensation through your nostrils, a mix of heat and exhilaration.

In that fleeting moment, the world seems to shift.

The pulsating lights of the city take on a surreal glow, and the hum of the car’s engine becomes a rhythmic accompaniment to the rush coursing through your veins. The nightclub’s music, still echoing in your ears, melds with your newfound energy, creating a synesthetic experience that blurs the boundaries between the external world and your internal sensations.

You’ve never felt this much like yourself and not like yourself at the same time before—it’s surreal.

A tingling warmth radiates through your body, a sensation that is both invigorating and disorienting, like an electrifying surge that momentarily disconnects you from reality.

Dieter watches in real time as the coke takes effect and your pupils dilate further, your features signaling an intensified awareness of your surroundings.

“That’s it, baby,” you hear him purr before you feel his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you into a messy kiss.

You’re not entirely sure how you made it to Dieter’s bedroom.

– – –

His sheets are incredibly soft, some sort of luxurious fabric that feels heavenly against your naked skin. You’re clad only in your panties, lying on your back with Dieter on top of you, your legs spread to accommodate his hips. 

You hear music coming from a speaker somewhere in the room – he must’ve put it on when you got in. You moan as he kisses your neck, his warm tongue and lips tracing your skin, nibbling, biting, marking you. 

He props himself up with his forearms on the bed beside your head, the soft hair on his belly grazing against your skin with each rhythmic movement of his hips.

“Look at me, baby,” he tells you, breathless, eager to finally bury himself in your pussy. You open your bloodshot eyes, biting your lip at the delicious pressure he’s putting on your clit.

“Tell me you want me.”

He caresses your cheek, his fingertips leaving a tingling sensation on your hot skin. You nod in response and moan when his hard cock rubs against your sensitive clit once again.

“Hey,” he taps your cheek not so gently and bores his eyes into you. “Use your words.”

You’re startled, but a grin forms on your lips as your foggy brain registers what he’s asking.

“I want you, Dieter,” you coo, your nails digging into the meat of his ass. “I want you to fuck me.” His lips crash against yours in an instant, and you whisper, “Please,” against them as your mind drifts off into another realm again.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he murmurs as he straightens up to take off his boxer briefs. “I’m gonna give you exactly what you need.”

Your eyes follow the movement of Dieter’s hands, mesmerized, watching in slow motion as his cock springs free. Fuck. It’s a lot bigger than you’d imagined, and it’s so…beautiful. You wish he’d put it in your mouth for you to taste it, but since you can feel him pulling down your panties, you guess he’s gonna go straight to fucking your pussy.

You feel his hands on your thighs as he positions himself between your spread legs. Then, you watch as he spits on his hand and strokes his cock. You moan at the sight, wanting nothing more than for him to take you, to ravage you, to become one with you.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby,” he murmurs more to himself than to you, haphazardly swiping his fingers through your dripping wet folds. You can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips when he brushes your clit.

He scoots closer, and you can feel the hairs on his thighs against yours as he guides the tip of his cock to your entrance. It’s warm, slippery, feels kinda nice. You close your eyes and turn your head.

This is it. You’re gonna have sex for the first time. 

And with none other than Dieter fucking Bravo – Oscar winner, movie star, womanizer extraordinaire. If you weren’t so out of it, you’d laugh at the ludicrousness of the situation.

He pushes in with one slow, deliberate thrust, savoring the feeling of each inch gradually disappearing into your body.

You inhale sharply, your breath catching at the initial discomfort of his cock stretching you. Your brow furrows in response, and you instinctively grip the sheets with your hands, a mix of pleasure and mild pain coursing through your body.

“Holy shit, your pussy’s tight,” Dieter groans, his hips stuttering at the sensation of being completely sheathed in you. “Feels so fucking good.”

He withdraws again just as you begin to acclimate to the girth of his cock inside you, leaving you whimpering at the sudden loss. Your hypersensitive system is so overloaded with sensations that it compels you to moan, whine, and writhe under his touch, uncertain of how to process everything you’re feeling and experiencing.

Dieter chuckles at your desperate little noises, more than ready to give you as much of his cock as he can, and to show you pleasure you didn’t know you were capable of.

If there’s one thing he takes pride in, it’s leaving his sex partners thoroughly satisfied, mind empty, covered in cum, and wanting more.

He spreads you open again in one smooth movement, your pussy eagerly devouring every inch. Pleased with your moans and the tight grip of your walls, he grabs your thighs and shifts his weight, pressing them against the mattress to penetrate you even deeper.

“Fuck,” is all you can get out as he sets a brutal pace, pushing your body up the bed repeatedly. His cock relentlessly strikes a deep spot within you, each thrust accompanied by the rhythmic slap of his balls against your ass.

“That’s it, baby. Take my fucking cock. Fuck, you’re the best slut I’ve had in a while.”

Dieter wants you to scream his name and come all over his cock. Sure. But he’s greedy and craves more than your physical surrender. He wants to etch his name into the very fabric of your desires, your being, a memory that will linger in your thoughts for the rest of your life.

The initial discomfort you’ve experienced slowly gives way to raw, carnal pleasure, a drug-induced dance of sensations that leaves you breathless. Dieter’s movements are harsh, designed to bring you to your limits, and you find yourself meeting his thrusts with an eagerness that surprises you.

The vast expanse of Dieter’s bedroom is filled with the intoxicating sound of your moans and smacking flesh, creating a dizzying symphony that envelops you in the throes of ecstasy.

“Look at me,” you hear him growl somewhere over you, and when you don’t budge, you feel his bruising grip on your jaw. “Hey, I’m not telling you again.”

You open your eyes, your eyelids so heavy you need to summon all of your strength to pry them open. Dieter’s face hovers close to yours, his breaths ragged, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, tracing a path down his temples.

His eyes are dark, hungry, dangerous. He gazes at you like he wants to devour you, to consume you wholly. You sense the intensity of his desire, and you’re more than ready to surrender to it.

You feel his hands tighten around your neck, the diminishing flow of oxygen to your brain heightening your senses even more. As your vision blurs and your pulse quickens, you’re caught in a paradoxical dance of ecstasy and fear, an exhilarating moment that pushes you to the brink.

Dieter deliberately hits your G-spot over and over again, his cock throbbing and leaking precum at your increasingly loud moans and spasming walls. 

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he pants, intensifying the grip on your neck and the force of his thrusts. Instinctively, you start clawing at his arms. “What a sick little thing you are, getting off on me hurting you.” 

Your eyes roll back and you feel yourself slipping away as Dieter’s pelvis puts enough pressure on your clit to bring you closer to climax with every roll of his hips.

“Oh fuck,” you faintly hear Dieter’s voice, “you’re choking the shit out of me, holy–”

You don’t hear the end of his sentence as an abrupt, violent orgasm takes over your body and mind in waves. Your walls spasm and contract uncontrollably around Dieter’s cock, every single muscle in your body tensing as you release a silent scream, caught in a tumultuous mix of ecstasy and distress.

Dieter lets go of your neck and bites down on your shoulder as he comes, emptying himself deep inside you with a guttural groan. His cock pulsates as your pussy eagerly milks and swallows up every last drop of his seed. 

He pulls out of you and collapses onto the mattress, his chest heaving, heart racing, utterly spent. His cum leaks out of you, pooling on the sheets between your thighs.

The room is heavy with the lingering scent of sex as Dieter finally catches his breath. Sweat glistens on his forehead and chest, and his erratic breaths permeate the air. You lie there, silent and still, your body sore, and your mind in turmoil.

The reality of the moment slowly dawns on you – every heartbeat sobering you up a bit more, tangled emotions leaving you disoriented.

Shit. What have you done?

“That was…holy shit,” Dieter chuckles beside you as he props his head up on his hand.

His face falls immediately as he glances at the bloodstains on the sheets. His eyes widen in shock, and a pang of guilt hits him deep. He wasn’t gentle, and you never spoke up. The room is silent for a moment before he breaks it, his voice sharp and accusatory.

“You’re bleeding.” His eyes meet yours, and the storm within them is unsettling. Your heart beats rapidly, fear coursing through you. “Tell me this isn’t what I fucking think it is.”

You look away, a lump forming in your sore throat. “I...I didn’t expect it to hurt so much,” you admit, your voice barely audible.

“Oh my fucking god.” Dieter’s tone is harsh, his face contorted with a mixture of confusion and anger. He swiftly rises from the bed, the mattress shuddering under his abrupt departure. His pacing is agitated, a restless back-and-forth that adds to the already palpable tension between you two.

You sit up against the headboard and pull up the covers to shield yourself from the chilling air that envelops you. You’re shivering. 

“Why the hell didn’t you say something? Are you trying to ruin me?”

Your heart drops. “Wha–”

His accusations hang in the air, and the room feels suffocating. Deep down, Dieter knows he should feel remorse for his actions, but instead, he redirects his hurt feelings towards you. The drugs and alcohol coursing through his system amplify his irrationality and paranoia.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice rises, echoing off the walls. “Is this some sick ploy to get your fifteen minutes of fame or some shit? To expose me?”

You’re left stunned, the whirlwind of pain, confusion, and the sting of betrayal clouding your mind. The vulnerability you shared just moments ago morphs into an uncomfortable reality, a hurtful reminder of what you were to him — a warm, nameless body he could fuck.

And now, you’re a nuisance at best, and a PR nightmare at worst. 

“Dieter, it’s nothing like that," you say, pleading, attempting to diffuse the escalating tension as the walls close in on the shattered remnants of a fun night. “I didn’t know how to tell you and…it’s not a big deal, I’m okay.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he shouts, shaking his head in frustration. “I wouldn’t have fucked you like that if I you’d told me you were–” he cuts himself off, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

The resentment in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine, making your blood run cold.

“Dieter–”

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Please, I’m sor–”

“Get the fuck out!” he roars, the anger in his eyes intensifying.

You immediately get up and scramble to get your clothes back on, your hands shaking. You grab your belongings, trying to maintain a shred of dignity as you hastily dress.

Dieter, seething with anger and regret, roughly hands you a wad of cash from his nightstand when you’re done. 

“Here, take this. Get a Plan B or whatever the hell you need, and keep your mouth shut.”

You stare at the money in your hand, then at the man who’s throwing you out in the middle of the night after taking your virginity. The bills are cold in your hand, and you crumple them up, throwing them back at him.

“I’m not your whore, Dieter. Go to hell!”

Heels in hand, you make your way past him and out the door. You don’t stop as he calls after you, his voice strained with genuine remorse.

“I’m sorry!”

He really is.

– – –

The cold night air hits you like a slap, tears blurring your vision as you stumble away from Dieter’s mansion, the weight of what just transpired inside heavy on your shoulders.

His hurtful words echo in your mind, the throbbing pain between your legs intensifying with every step you take. Your breath falters in the frigid air, and you clutch your arms tightly around you as you make your way toward the waiting car.

The driver, standing beside the sleek vehicle, regards you with a mixture of concern and pity. His eyes have seen this scene unfold countless times before – another half-naked girl leaving his boss’s home in disarray.

You hate the way he looks at you, as if he knows more about your vulnerability than you’re willing to admit.

He opens the car door for you, and you gratefully sink into the plush leather seat. The warmth inside the car is a stark contrast to the chill outside, but it does little to ease the ache spreading through your body.

The driver takes his place behind the wheel, stealing glances at you through the rearview mirror.

“Where can I take you to, Miss?” His voice is gentle, filled with a practiced sympathy that makes your stomach churn. You hesitate for a moment, wrestling with the words you don’t want to say.

“Home,” you finally mumble, offering your address with a numb detachment. It feels like a betrayal, a surrender of your secret world to this stranger who witnesses the aftermath of Dieter Bravo’s fleeting affections.

The car glides through the silent streets, and you find yourself staring out of the window, the city lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors.

Your head is spinning, and the pain in your body intensifies with each passing moment. Tears escape as you touch the bruises on your neck, tracing silent paths down your cheeks. You wipe them away with the back of your hand, hoping the darkness conceals your shame.

The driver glances at you in the mirror.

“Are you alright, Miss?” he asks, his tone a delicate inquiry into the depths of your distress.

“Just…drive me home, please,” you whisper, your voice cracking with the weight of unshed tears. You don’t want his pity, his judgment. You just want to escape the haunting echoes of what happened tonight.

But you know that will never happen. Dieter got his wish after all.

You will forever remember him.

– – –

♥︎ Thank you for reading!! ♥︎

Dieter Bravo masterlist ♡ main masterlist