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valeskafics · 14 days

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"Chemicals React" - Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

a/n: so this was originally a series BUT i felt it flowed better as a oneshot so here it is. based on an anon request. hope y'all enjoy 🩷

Summary: Rafe gets more than he bargained for when he goes to Barry's grandfather's garage.

Word Count: 5,855

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, alcohol consumption, latina!reader, mentions of character death, topper being a classist cunt/classism, rafe being a punk bitch, semi public sex, oral f receiving, face sitting, tiddy succin, slight daddy kink, p in v sex, unprotected sex, handjob

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

It’s another gorgeous day in the OBX. Rafe is cruising in his new Range Rover, living the Kook life, some stupid Machine Gun Kelly song blaring obnoxiously loud from his speakers as he drives around the island. There’s a party at the Boneyard tonight and he knows he’s going to end up going home with some hot piece of ass. Everyone’s going to be dying to take a ride in his new car. Absolutely nothing can go wrong for him.

Until it does. His eyes go wide with horror as the Rover stalls in the middle of the road. Rafe pumps the gas, panicking, doing everything he can to bring his precious car back to life, but no dice. He groans, pulling out his phone and calling for a tow. After a few minutes pass, he sees Barry coming down the road with some of the Pogues he’s seen him hanging around with. Barry raises a brow, rolling down the window of his car.

“Hey, Country Club, what happened, man?”

“Car broke down.”

“But didn’t you just-”

“Yes, Barry, I just fuckin’ bought it,” Rafe snaps angrily, running a hand through his hair, “Shit, and I know my dad’s gonna find a way to fucking ream my ass for it.”

“Take it to my grandpa’s garage,” Barry suggests, “It’s cheap and Abuelo takes cash. Tell them to tow you to Sebastian’s.”

Rafe weighs his options. Barry might’ve just offered him a quick and easy solution. And it’s not like he has anything to gain from screwing Rafe over. The less trouble Rafe gets into with his father, the more lenience he’ll get. Meaning he’ll throw more parties where Barry can sell. Rafe nods, thanking Barry, watching as he drives away.

As suggested, he has the Rover towed to Sebastian’s on the Cut. Fuck, he hates being here, but whatever. The place looks fairly respectable when he walks in, though there doesn’t seem to be anyone around. This isn’t a really good way to run a business, he muses, until his eyes fall on a pair of denim-clad legs sticking out from under a car. He walks closer and clears his throat to make his presence known. But he isn’t acknowledged. So, he tries again, only louder. And still no response.

Rafe scowls, “Yo-”

A muffled voice cuts him off, yelling back, “Gimme a minute, I’m workin’ here!”

He inhales sharply through his nose, already annoyed, but waits, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. Rafe waits a few more minutes until he finally hears the sound of the creeper being wheeled out from under the car.

And then? He sees you.

Your hair is pulled off your face with a bandana, ratty jeans and a white tank top adorn your body, both stained with engine grease along with your hands and face. You use your forearm to wipe some sweat from your forehead as you stand up, tossing your wrench into your toolbox, barely giving him a second glance. Meanwhile, he’s unable to tear his eyes away from you. You’re a stark contrast to him in his Lacoste polo, his golf shorts, his boat shoes… And it’s more than enticing.

He clears his throat to introduce himself, but before he can, you’re shoving past him, demanding to know what’s wrong with the vehicle. He watches as you circle around the Rover, examining it.

“It’s brand new and it just broke down out of nowhere!”

“Pop the hood,” you order, hands on your hips.

Fuck, you’re bossy. He’s kinda into it. He does as you ask, popping the hood of the car and watching as you examine it with interest.

“So you know anything about this sort of thing?” He questions, his tone bordering on condescending, “Broken cars and all that?”

“Cars are my life,” you reply briefly, rolling your eyes at his surprised expression, “What? Surprised?”

“I just didn’t think people like you were into this sort of-”

“Poor people? Or people with vaginas?”

Rafe blinks, taken slightly aback by the bite behind your words, his words getting stuck in his throat at the sass you throw his way. Why is he getting hard from this? God, he really needs to listen to Sarah and see a therapist. He mumbles a half-hearted apology, watching as you continue to examine the car, a frown on your face, brows pinching together in what appears to be confusion.

“You said she’s new? A 2020?”

He nods, puffing his chest out with pride, “Yeah, the newest model.”

“Not the newest engine,” you drawl, slamming the hood shut, “You’ve been scammed, Country Club. This engine stopped being manufactured in 2015 because it was defective. They switched up on you.”

Rafe’s jaw drops, “Wha- No! That’s impossible! Larry said it was-”

“Larry? As in Larry’s Exotic Imports on the mainland?” When he nods, you let out a low whistle, “You’ve been had, gringo. What, Daddy not go with you to buy it?”

“I’m a grown man, I can buy my own car!” Rafe retorts, his blood boiling at the smug little grin on his face, “I’m not an idiot, alright!”

You just hum, that smile never leaving your face as you seem to be trying to avoid laughing. You walk over to your workstation, opening up your laptop, typing a few things in quickly, Rafe’s gaze drawn to your fingers, still marred by engine grease. It’s… Oddly refreshing.

“It’ll take a week for me to get it here from the mainland,” you tell him, standing up and typing a few things into the calculator at your workstation.

“A week? That’s bullshit! Why can’t you do it today?”

He sees the way you clench your fists. Rafe is spoiled. He knows that. But a week? You’ve gotta be kidding him.

“I don’t know, Country Club, do you expect me to just bend over and pull a V8 engine out of my ass?” You snark, “One week. And if you have a problem with that, you can push your damn car out of my garage and take it somewhere else.”

He blinks owlishly, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he mumbles, “Fine. One week then.”

“Gonna put you out eight grand for a new engine. Can you afford it?”

His jaw drops, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets as he repeats, “Eight grand?! There’s no way for it to be less? No discount? Nothing?” Rafe pleads, sweat beading at his temples at the thought of his father finding out he has to spend eight thousand dollars because he got scammed.

You scowl up at him, muttering something in what he thinks is Spanish under your breath before scolding him, “This isn’t a farmer’s market! Eight grand.”

You really aren’t having his bullshit, Rafe muses. He doesn’t think he’s been called out this badly ever before in his life. And deep down, he realizes he deserves it for refusing his father’s suggestion that they go buy the car together. From the dealership.

“Fine,” Rafe mutters, “Eight grand. And I’m paying cash.”

The smirk you shoot his way is nothing short of victorious, “10% down now, the rest later. So $800.” You watch as he pulls out his wallet, commenting, “Cash because you don’t want your pops knowing you got scammed, huh?”

Rafe’s brows crease with annoyance. No way he’s gonna let you think you’ve got him all figured out. Screw that.

“So what if he finds out? He’ll yell at me? Punish me? Ground me? I’ma grown ass man. I can deal.”

Rafe can see the way you bite back a laugh at his words, raising your hands in mock surrender, “Sure, Country Club, whatever.”

“And stop calling me that, will you?” Rafe blurts out, “I have a name. And it’s Rafe Cameron. So fuckin’ use it!”

Your eyes light up with recognition, a grin spreading across your face, “Barry’s friend?”

“Yeah, Barry’s friend,” he mutters, “Why, you know him?”

“Unfortunately. Ėl es mi hermano.” Hermano? Brother?! You snicker at the confused expression on his face, “Yeah, I bet Barry didn’t know I was working today. Never woulda sent you here otherwise. Anyway, leave her here. I’ll have this baby purring like a kitten in no time.”

Rafe’s eyes follow your figure as you move to the mini fridge and grab yourself a beer. There’s something about the way you carry yourself that’s so fucking intoxicating to him. You’re badass, you’re hot, and you can see right through his bullshit. The only problem is that at this point, he’s running out of excuses to stick around. He gestures to your beer, watching as you crack it open effortlessly with your teeth. Your lips wrap around the bottle and all he can think of is how perfect they’d look wrapped around something else-

“Can I have one?”

“Nope.”

“Ah, come on,” Rafe all but whines, unused to being denied anything.”Just one?”

“I know you can damn well afford your own,” you retort, waving him off, “Now shoo. Skedaddle. Begone, thot, I’m a working girl, I got shit to do.”

“But I have a question-”

“And the answer is no,” you reply tartly, shooing him out of the garage, cursing at him in Spanish under your breath, “Out!”

“You didn’t even hear the question!”

You now begin cursing at him at full volume, daggers in your eyes as you gesticulate wildly before finally slamming the garage closed. Rafe stands there for a long moment, a big dopey grin on his face. Fuck, the way you called him a… What was it? Culo? Fuck, you sounded hot. You look so sexy when you’re angry.

Shit, the guy has never been this turned on in his life. And you’re all he can think about his entire Uber ride home. How has Barry managed to keep you a secret for so long?

Well now? The secret is definitely out.

Rafe sees you again sooner than he anticipated. That night at the Boneyard, as a matter of fact. He doesn’t know if he just somehow never noticed you before or if this is your first time at one of these parties. But he can’t tear his eyes away from you. You’re standing around, drinking with your Pogue friends - specifically John B, JJ, Pope, and Kie. He keeps shooting looks your way while trying to stay as discreet about it as possible. After all, he can’t have people thinking the Kook prince is into a fucking Pogue. So, he plays it cool and stays away.

Even if every fiber of his being is screaming at him to go talk to you.

Your jeans are baggy and you wear a one piece swimsuit underneath, no makeup on, your hair mussed by the wind. You’re a bit of a tomboy, he muses, watching you have the time of your life with your friends. You laugh freely and loudly, not caring if anyone turns your way. There’s something almost magnetic about you. An effortless confidence that he can’t help but admire. You continue laughing as JJ says something that probably isn’t as funny as you’re making it appear. John B rests a hand on your shoulder, pointing over at the keg, and you nod eagerly.

Other than wanting to slap John B and JJ for having the audacity to touch you, he wonders what the hell you’re all walking over to the keg for. But, the thought of you dissing him in public is enough to keep Rafe away. So he just watches as you move to do a keg stand, Pope and John B holding your legs up while JJ, Kie, and a bunch of other spectators cheer you on. It’s a sight to behold, he thinks.

Rafe is barely able to pay attention to the gorgeous Kook girl who walks up to him, asking about his new car, her perfectly manicured hand resting on his chest as she bats her lashes at him. All he can think about is those hands of yours, stained by engine grease. The way his fingers brushed against yours when he put the money down for his repairs. You’re fascinating. So different from everyone and everything he knows. He wants you to look over and see that he has no interest in the girl trying to talk to him. That he’s only interested in you.

Despite his efforts, you don’t notice him. You just continue messing around with those stupid Pogues, the five of you pushing and shoving each other as you run toward the water, getting your feet wet. He wonders if you surf, if you swim. What you’re into other than cars. Rafe wonders what makes you tick. If maybe, one day, that could be him running into the water alongside you, splashing you, picking you up and twirling you around.

The party begins to wind down, people going home with their companions for the night. Rafe has been letting the girl on his arm linger, only to duck away from her when he sees you and your friends walking toward him to get to John B’s van. You’re clearly a bit drunk, giving him a wave and a goofy smile despite Kie trying to tell you not to.

“Hey, you’re that güero from before! What’s up, papí?”

You’re clearly drunk. No way would you be so friendly with him otherwise. But you calling him “papí” sends a wave of desire through him. Shit, should his dick be this hard right now? You’re a little fucking tease, that’s what you are. He sees the way your gaze lingers on his chest, with the way he’s left his shirt undone, that same cheeky grin never leaving your face as JJ and John B try to rustle you into the car.

“Papí, don’t be shy! You look damn good without a shirt on-”

Rafe can feel his face heat up at your words. Are you just trying to embarrass him? Or do you actually find him attractive? You’re so fucking hot and cold that he has no idea. His heart pounds as he watches your friends try to get your drunk ass into the car. He blurts out.

“Stop calling me that.”

You poke your head out of the window, your entire upper body dangling outside as Pope desperately tries to pull you back in so you don’t fall, “Lo siento, papí!”

He blinks, frozen in place, his breath catching in his throat as you disappear from his sight once again. Rafe barely even notices Topper and Kelce come up beside him, the former speaking.

“Is that the one mechanic girl? She’s kinda cute. For a Pogue at least. Trashy though.”

Rafe grits his teeth. Why the fuck is Topper looking at you like that? He should shut the fuck up and go back to Sarah. Rafe barely resists the urge to deck him across the face, his friend not taking the clue and continuing to drunkenly ramble on.

“She’s alright for a night, maybe. She’s not the type of girl who hangs around Figure Eight. Anyway, bro, I’m heading home.”

He can’t help but shoot Topper a dirty glare as he walks back toward Sarah. He doesn’t get to say that kind of shit about you. Only Rafe does.

And right now, the Kook prince has one main goal in mind.

How to see you again.

It’s pathetic. He’s pathetic. He knows it. He’s down bad. Down horrendous.

Rafe walks up to the garage, dragging his bike with him, knowing that you’re probably just going to roast the shit out of him, knowing that you probably have no recollection of the night before. You’ve got a welding helmet on and a jumpsuit hanging low around your waist, wearing your jumpsuit, the fabric of it hugging your hips, your ass, your tits… You’re not even trying to look good. It just comes naturally to you.

After you notice his presence, you remove your helmet, your hair damp and mussed, dripping with sweat. Fuck, you look incredible. You wipe your sweat from your brow with your forearm, nodding at him in greeting.

“Whatcha doin’ here, Country Club? Your engine ain’t here yet, so why are you?” He shifts slightly, running a hand through his hair, hoping he looks as suave as he’s trying to. Rafe can barely speak, his mind running wild with thoughts of lifting you up onto the hood of the car you’re working on, fucking you- “Oye! Pendejo!” You interrupt his train of thought by snapping your fingers in front of his face, “Something wrong with the bike?”

“Uh, yeah, kinda…”

Rafe watches intently as you shimmy out of your jumpsuit, tossing it aside, leaving you in your ripped jeans and a baggy Metallica tee shirt. It suits you, he thinks. God, why does he have to feel this way about some Pogue? There’s so many Kook girls out there who would be desperate for one night with him and yet? His ass is stuck on you. You cross your arms, circling the bike, his gaze lingering on the way your jeans cling to the curve of your ass. Fuck, he might as well be drooling over you.

“Ay, dios mío, what did you do to this poor thing?!” You demand, looking at the ruined bike, covering your mouth as if you’re seeing a mutilated corpse, “She’s falling apart!”

“It’s not that bad,” Rafe scoffs, running a hand over his face, knowing he might have gotten a little overzealous in damaging the thing so that he could have an excuse to see you again.

You stare at him, nonplussed, “Not too bad, huh? My abuelita looks better than this and she’s been dead three years, God rest her soul.”

Okay, he can’t really argue with that logic. But, instead of doing that, a sly smile spreads across his face and he shrugs, watching the way you tie your hair up in a loose bun, wanting to keep it off your face. You bring a knee to your chest, tying your shoelaces, waiting for him to respond.

“Alright, just say you can’t do it then. I’ll take it to someone else who knows how. I guess you can’t fix this-”

Your eyes narrow as you glare at him, “Perdóname?! Not able to fix-” He has to hide the gleeful expression that threatens to take over his face at your sassy demeanor, having so easily been able to anger you by calling your skills as a mechanic into question, “I can fix anything on wheels, white boy, don’t you be coming into my abuelito’s garage and say no puedo-”

You begin muttering to yourself in annoyance, grabbing your tools and getting to work on the bike. Rafe bites back a smirk, watching as you bend over, your shirt riding up just enough to reveal your lower back, oblivious to his hungry gaze. It’s easy for him to forget that he’s left your brother waiting for him outside, panicking slightly when Barry comes storming in, glancing between the two of you.

“Oh, hell nah, Country Club, you gonna stay away from my sister-”

“Ha!” You stand up, arms crossed as you glare up at your brother, “You don’t get to decide who I talk to, Barry, hm? Now, get out of my garage before I take this wrench and shove it up your-”

“It ain’t your garage, it’s Abuelito’s-”

“GET OUT! And take your güero with you!”

“But-”

“Out!”

And for the second time in as many days, Rafe is shooed out of the garage like a damn dog. The worst part of it all is that he keeps turning back to look at you, even as Barry gives him his warning glares, declaring that Rafe better not touch you. His kid sister.

When Barry off-handedly reveals that you enjoy going to surf before work, Rafe decides to ignore his friend’s warnings and take advantage of the fact. He takes his dad’s car and parks at the beach, walking out and sitting on the sand, enjoying this moment of solitude, watching you paddle out. Your hair flies behind you as you catch a wave, looking completely carefree. He knows JJ and Pope and the others are out here too, but he can’t bring himself to care. All he wants to do is watch you surf, with that blissful smile on your face.

And everything is chill for a while. He just sits there, feet in the sand, listening to the sound of the waves and watching you go. That is, until Topper and Kelce show up.

“Oh shit, man, are you whipped for that Pogue mechanic?” Topper scoffs, taking a seat beside Rafe, “Dude, bro, you can’t be serious, right?”

Rafe turns to Topper, scowling slightly, “No, I’m not whipped for her! I’m not even into her!”

“You sure, man? Because you were staring. Like a lot. And then at the Boneyard-”

“Shut the fuck up, Thornton, I’m not interested in some stupid Pogue, all she’s good for is fixing my damn bike and my car!”

He hears a rather feminine sounding scoff from behind him, only to see you standing there, flanked by your friends, an angry and somewhat hurt look on your face, “Thanks for making your opinion about me so clear, Rafe Cameron.” Rafe’s face pales and he immediately opens his mouth to protest, only for you to cut him off, “You can pick up the bike from my abuelito. The car too. Because I never want to see your stupid Kook face ever again.”

“Whew, someone’s got a temper,” Topper mutters.

You turn your icy glare toward him, “And someone’s got the beginnings of erectile dysfunction. Do not get loud with me, Thornton.”

Topper presses his lips together while Rafe just sits there, stunned at how monumentally he’s fucked things up with you. And he hates the way you lean into John B’s touch when he wraps his arm around you, the five of you making your way toward that fucking van again.

And this time, he doubts you’re gonna be hanging out of the side, calling him cute little nicknames. You’re furious.

Rafe doesn’t know how he’s gonna talk his way or buy his way out of this one, but he knows he damn well has to try.

He comes into the garage the next day to pick up his bike, hoping against all reason that you’ll be there, with that jumpsuit hanging off your waist, sipping on a beer, looking at him with that Cheshire catlike grin of yours, ready to roast the fuck out of him. But no such luck. Rafe sighs when you’re nowhere to be found in the garage and turns to leave, only to be greeted by an older man. He’s on the short side, a bit portly, with a mustache and hair that’s nearly all white, a kind smile on his face.

“Hello, señor, how can I help you?”

Rafe runs a hand through his hair, “Uh, hi. Um, there’s a girl who works here and she’s fixing my bike and my car and…”

The old man’s eyes light up with amusement as he chuckles, “Oh, I know who you are now. Mr. Rafe Cameron, yes?”

He nods slowly, realizing that this must be your grandfather, the garage’s owner, “Yes… That would be me…”

“Mi nieta is with her friends. Those three boys she’s always running around with. I think they’re going to the marsh.”

Rafe holds back the urge to groan with annoyance. He just wants to fucking apologize. Granted, you have every right not to want to speak to him ever again, but he’s desperate. He glances over at the wall and sees your photo hanging, a big old grin on your face as you hold up a placard dubbing you the Employee of the Month. And there’s another picture right beside it of you and Barry with your grandfather when you must’ve been four or five, chipped teeth, your hair in braids, bandaids all over your arms… He smiles to himself at it, feeling his heart beating a bit quicker than before.

Your grandfather smiles at Rafe, approaching him and resting a hand on his shoulder, “She must’ve made quite an impression on you.”

He smiles to himself and nods, unable to deny it, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ve got it kinda bad for her. But I think I’ve screwed it up beyond repair and I don’t know how to make it right.”

“Can I give you some advice, mijo?”

Rafe arches a brow, surprised that your grandfather is willing to help but immediately agrees, acting more respectful than he usually would, “Yes, please, sir.”

“My granddaughter has had to work hard her entire life. She’s fought tooth and nail for everything she has, picking up Barry’s slack. She’s proud of who she is and she would want to be with someone who is proud to be with her.” He pauses, eyes twinkling with mischief, “And isn’t too proud to apologize for acting a fool. Women are always right, you know? My wife taught me that.”

Rafe grins at the old man’s words, “Yeah, I think you’re right about that, sir.” He pauses before asking, “Could I ask what her favorite flowers are? If it’s not too much trouble?”

“Sunflowers, mijo. She loves sunflowers. But you didn’t hear it from me.”

With a renewed sense of optimism, Rafe rushes back to Topper’s car, demanding that he take him straight to the nearest flower shop.

Girls like grand gestures, right? He’s going to make the grandest gesture of them all.

After all, you’re more than worth it.

It’s a bit jarring, to say the least, when you walk into the garage the next morning, ready for a hard day’s work, only to see the entire place filled with dozens upon dozens of sunflowers. Your jaw drops slightly as you walk in, feeling like you’ve stepped into a Van Gogh painting. Your bag falls from your hand as you continue inside, admiring the beautiful flowers, the way they brighten up the garage. You then see him step out. Rafe, holding a single sunflower in his hand.

“I… I hope this is okay.”

You scratch the back of your neck, trying to hold back your smile as you take the flower from him, “Sunflowers are my favorite.”

“I owe you a huge apology,” Rafe blurts out, “And I’ve told Topper he does too. The way I let him speak about you and what I said wasn’t okay at all. You’re not just worth more than that. You’re worth everything. And you’re way too good for an asshole like me.” He meets your gaze, a smile playing on his lips when he sees that you make no move to stop him from talking, “Y’know, this is usually the part where you’re supposed to say I’m not an asshole.”

“But you are an asshole,” you smirk at him, toying with the flower in your hand, your smirk fading into a genuine smile, “I… You swallowing your pride and coming here to apologize means a lot. But I don’t know, Country Club-”

“One date,” he blurts out, “Give me one date. Let me take you to dinner. Show you that I can be more than the asshole you think I am. And if I piss you off? You get to leave. No obligations, nothing like that.”

“Why are you so desperate to go out with me?” You ask, genuinely confused.

“You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met. You’re smart and you’re… You’re funny and you work hard and I really…” He lets out a sharp breath before laughing, “I really like you. Like, when I’m near you, I feel so out of my element. Like… Like I’m walking on broken glass, like I’m caught in a tide that’s pulling me out to sea. You… You drive me nuts. And I know I’m an asshole… I just kinda wanna be your asshole.”

You look at him, taking in everything he’s said, remaining silent for a long, torturous moment before you lean in, pecking his cheek, “Tonight. Pick me up here. Seven.”

Rafe nods, grinning to himself as he leaves the garage, his hand moving to rest over where your lips touched his cheek, a warm feeling spreading through his body at the realization that he’s actually getting to go on a date with you.

Rafe shows up, ready to take you to one of the best restaurants on Figure Eight, yet another bouquet of sunflowers in hand, but you approach him, wearing those ratty jeans of yours and a shirt stained with engine grease from your long day at work.

“I know somewhere we can go for this date, Country Club.”

Rafe is genuinely surprised that the two of you end up at a more private part of the beach, sitting on the sand, just talking about anything and everything. You tell him about surfing, how your grandmother taught you when you were young before she passed, how she would tell you about the surf back home in Puerto Rico. He tells you about how it’s one of his few memories with his mom. Surfing. And you reach over, resting your hand on his, a lazy smile on your pretty lips as you intertwine your fingers. He’s never felt so vulnerable and yet so safe around anyone.

The two of you sit there, watching the sunset, you sitting between his legs, his arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on top of your head as you continue talking. Rafe thinks he could listen to that voice of yours for hours, loving the way you roll your r’s ever so slightly, your quick, acerbic wit, the ridiculous jokes you come up with, the crazy stories about your and Barry’s childhood. You’re everything he never knew he wanted and what he’s always needed but never realized.

You turn around to face him, sitting up on your knees. You lean in close, your arms wrapping around Rafe’s neck. You gaze into his eyes, that gorgeous smile on your face, and it’s like right then and there? Everything in his life has come together. Like the planets have aligned and his world has forever changed. It all revolves around you now. His hands settle on your hips, just over the waistband of your jeans as you lean in and press your lips against his. And it’s like a kaleidoscope of colors begins shooting behind his eyes at this one kiss alone.

Rafe lays back as you push him back against the sand, your hair falling like a curtain around the two of you, concealing you from the rest of the world. Rafe moans against your lips, squeezing at the flesh of your ass as you balance your hands against his chest. Your kiss is heated, passionate as he tugs at your shirt eagerly, tossing it aside, a low groan escaping his lips when he realizes you’re not wearing a bra. Rafe’s hands move to cup your tits, squeezing gently, his cock hard and throbbing against your thigh. You palm at him over the fabric of his jeans with one hand while the other moves to undo your own.

Before long, the two of you are lying there bare, under the light of the full moon, not a soul in sight as you continue kissing. You smirk to yourself as Rafe moves, tugging you up further, his hands grasping at your thighs. And you’re perfectly happy to do what it is he’s asking you to. You sink down onto his face, feeling his tongue eagerly lapping at your wet pussy, your hands twisting in his hair as you grind yourself against him. His nose brushes up against your clit so perfectly, his palms squeezing at the flesh of your thighs, your ass, his moans echoing in your ears. Rafe’s tongue feels so fucking incredible inside you and the best part of it is? He seems to be enjoying it even more than you are, judging by the noises you make.

“Fuck, Papí,” you murmur, “You really know what you’re doing…”

Spurred on by your praise, he pulls you even closer, perfectly content for you to rest your entire body’s weight on his face as he devours your pussy. It doesn’t take much longer for that coil in your stomach to wind, releasing hard enough to have you crying out his name, your body going lax as he continues mouthing at you, holding you in place. His lips latch onto your clit, those baby blue eyes darkened with lust as he stares up at you, moaning as he continues to feast on you like you’re a drop of water and he’s a man who’s been wandering the desert for days. Like you’re his oasis.

And when his body finally joins with yours? When you sink down onto his cock, letting him fill you? It’s like the pieces all fall into place. Rafe watches with amazement as you bounce up and down on him, setting the pace the way you want it, your fingers moving to toy with your clit, your teeth sinking into your lower lip as you lose yourself in your pleasure, your moans of his name mixed with expletives in your native tongue sounding like music to his ears.

He sits up, pulling you into a heated kiss, his mouth devouring your own as his hips snap up to meet yours. Rafe’s mouth is everywhere. Kissing your lips, your neck, suckling at your tits. He’s desperate for you, desperate to prove how good he can treat you. You reach your peak, throwing your head back and moaning his name as you soak his cock, moving off of him to quickly begin pumping it, bringing him to his own end, your fingers working their magic as you stroke and tug at his length, and he spills himself onto your hand.

Rafe watches with amazement as you lick your hand clean, “You’re… Incredible.”

“Not so bad yourself, white boy,” you tease, moving to lay beside him, feeling him pull you into his arms, “So, what now?”

“Well, clearly you’re my girl now.”

“Oh, clearly, huh?” You scoff, “Nah, honey, you gotta ask.”

“Fine,” he rolls his eyes, grinning at you, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, making you smile, “Be mine?”

“Yeah,” you nod, speaking softly, “I’ll be yours. And you’ll be mine.”

Rafe laughs, kissing you again, “Sweetheart, I’m pretty sure I’ve been yours ever since we met.”

The two of you stay there on that beach, holding each other close, kissing, and doing so much more until the sun rises. And when it does? You take Rafe’s hand, and he agrees to surf for the first time in years with you beside him.

Sure, there’s a long road ahead of the two of you. Barry’s no doubt going to be pissed at the both of you. Your friends despise each other. But when you look into Rafe’s eyes and he looks into yours, just like that it doesn’t even matter.

All that matters is the two of you.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe smut #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #my writing #rafe oneshot

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guardian-angle22 · 6 months

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Colson Baker (aka Machine Gun Kelly) | December 2021

#colson baker #machine gun kelly #mgk #mgkedit #words of wisdom right here okay #I've never made gifs of him before... mainly because I'm not a strong enough soldier to deal with the intense hate this man gets online tbh #but this has just been sitting with me for awhile now #the way it seems like everyone (mostly online but also irl) expects other people to always be perfect #to always have the most correct and perfect opinion. or always put out the best image of themselves.#or share the most perfect version of their art #to immediately know how to properly execute a new skill #what happened to growing together and encouraging growth in others?#we shouldn't be scared to be seen TRYING #and responding to people who don't have it all figured out yet with just hate or mockery doesn't encourage growth or change #I'll stop now thank you for coming to my ted talk #my gifs #I’m gonna queue this up for a random day and forget about it I’m sure #queued post

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tswiftupdatess · 2 months

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Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce with Machine Gun Kelly!

#taylor swift #travis kelce #machine gun kelly #superbowl #after party #superbowl 2024 #february 11 #chiefs game #kc chiefs #tayvis

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teejaystumbles · 1 year

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Dream's selling tickets to his downfall

#I may have listened to Machine Gun Kelly #and then they were teenagers #dreamling #own art #sketches #the sandman fanart #dream of the endless #hob gadling #teejaystumbles

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mistressemmedi · 5 months

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"The tall chap in yellow clothes, I believe his name is Machine Gun Kelly? He has left the circuit" TED. PLEASE 💀

#f1 #brazilian gp 2023

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valeskafics · 1 month

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"Chemicals React", Chapter One: Out Of My Element (Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader)

a/n: my very first rafe series! i anticipate this being somewhere between 5 and 10 chapters, so buckle up kids, we got a bit of slowburn, enemies to lovers. from an anon request. it's been fun getting to self insert a bit as someone who is part peruana hehe 🩷

Chapter Two

Summary: Rafe gets more than he bargained for when he goes to Barry's grandfather's garage.

Word Count: 2,560

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, alcohol consumption, latina!reader, topper being a classist cunt/classism

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Outer Banks characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

“Hey, Country Club, what happened, man?”

“Car broke down.”

“But didn’t you just-”

“Yes, Barry, I just fuckin’ bought it,” Rafe snaps angrily, running a hand through his hair, “Shit, and I know my dad’s gonna find a way to fucking ream my ass for it.”

“Take it to my grandpa’s garage,” Barry suggests, “It’s cheap and Abuelo takes cash. Tell them to tow you to Sebastian’s.”

Rafe scowls, “Yo-”

A muffled voice cuts him off, yelling back, “Gimme a minute, I’m workin’ here!”

And then? He sees you.

He clears his throat to introduce himself, but before he can, you’re shoving past him, demanding to know what’s wrong with the vehicle. He watches as you circle around the Rover, examining it.

“It’s brand new and it just broke down out of nowhere!”

“Pop the hood,” you order, hands on your hips.

Fuck, you’re bossy. He’s kinda into it. He does as you ask, popping the hood of the car and watching as you examine it with interest.

“So you know anything about this sort of thing?” He questions, his tone bordering on condescending, “Broken cars and all that?”

“Cars are my life,” you reply briefly, rolling your eyes at his surprised expression, “What? Surprised?”

“I just didn’t think people like you were into this sort of-”

“Poor people? Or people with vaginas?”

“You said she’s new? A 2020?”

He nods, puffing his chest out with pride, “Yeah, the newest model.”

Rafe’s jaw drops, “Wha- No! That’s impossible! Larry said it was-”

“Larry? As in Larry’s Exotic Imports on the mainland?” When he nods, you let out a low whistle, “You’ve been had, güero. What, Daddy not go with you to buy it?” (whitey)

“I’m a grown man, I can buy my own car!” Rafe retorts, his blood boiling at the smug little grin on his face, “I’m not an idiot, alright!”

“It’ll take a week for me to get it here from the mainland,” you tell him, standing up and typing a few things into the calculator at your workstation.

“A week? That’s bullshit! Why can’t you do it today?”

He sees the way you clench your fists. Rafe is spoiled. He knows that. But a week? You’ve gotta be kidding him.

He blinks owlishly, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he mumbles, “Fine. One week then.”

“Gonna put you out eight grand for a new engine. Can you afford it?”

You scowl up at him, muttering something in what he thinks is Spanish under your breath before scolding him, “This isn’t a farmer’s market! Eight grand.”

“Fine,” Rafe mutters, “Eight grand. And I’m paying cash.”

Rafe’s brows crease with annoyance. No way he’s gonna let you think you’ve got him all figured out. Screw that.

“So what if he finds out? He’ll yell at me? Punish me? Ground me? I’ma grown ass man. I can deal.”

Rafe can see the way you bite back a laugh at his words, raising your hands in mock surrender, “Sure, Country Club, whatever.”

“And stop calling me that, will you?” Rafe blurts out, “I have a name. And it’s Rafe Cameron. So fuckin’ use it!”

Your eyes light up with recognition, a grin spreading across your face, “Barry’s friend?”

“Yeah, Barry’s friend,” he mutters, “Why, you know him?”

“Can I have one?”

“Nope.”

“Ah, come on,” Rafe all but whines, unused to being denied anything.”Just one?”

“I know you can damn well afford your own,” you retort, waving him off, “Now shoo. Skedaddle. Begone, thot, I’m a working girl, I got shit to do.”

“But I have a question-”

“And the answer is no,” you reply tartly, shooing him out of the garage, cursing at him in Spanish under your breath, “Out!”

“You didn’t even hear the question!”

Shit, the guy has never been this turned on in his life. And you’re all he can think about his entire Uber ride home. How has Barry managed to keep you a secret for so long?

Well now? The secret is definitely out.

Even if every fiber of his being is screaming at him to go talk to you.

“Hey, you’re that güero from before! What’s up, papí?” (Daddy)

“Papí, don’t be shy! You look damn good without a shirt on-”

“Stop calling me that.”

You poke your head out of the window, your entire upper body dangling outside as Pope desperately tries to pull you back in so you don’t fall, “Lo siento, papí!” ("Sorry, Daddy!")

He blinks, frozen in place, his breath catching in his throat as you disappear from his sight once again. Rafe barely even notices Topper and Kelce come up beside him, the former speaking.

“Is that the one mechanic girl? She’s kinda cute. For a Pogue at least. Trashy though.”

“She’s alright for a night, maybe. She’s not the type of girl who hangs around Figure Eight. Anyway, bro, I’m heading home.”

He can’t help but shoot Topper a dirty glare as he walks back toward Sarah. He doesn’t get to say that kind of shit about you. Only Rafe does.

And right now, the Kook prince has one main goal in mind.

How to see you again.

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storiesforallfandoms · 1 year

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getting your attention ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2068

request?: yes!

@crazymelascula “Hello, good morning/good afternoon/good night! I don't really know when you'll see this, but I wanted to place a wish. I wanted to ask for a picture of Colson with jealousy. Maybe she provoked him (something like that). You you can make an obscenity of it if you like.”

description: in which her boyfriend is always busy with work, so she decides to get his attention in another way

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (fingering, orgasm denial, oral - m receiving, unprotected p in v, little bit of rough sex, pet names including sir, master, and princess, some jealousy and possessiveness)

masterlist (one, two, three)

Risqué photos were not your style. Not public ones, anyways. You didn’t mind sending the odd photo to Colson every now and then, but they were for his eyes and his eyes only.

But lately, Colson was busy. He always had some form of work going on lately; making music, touring, filming, writing - both songs and scripts. He was gone almost all the time, and the times he was home it was very obvious that he wasn’t actually present. It was hard. Of course, you were proud of him and how big his career had gotten, but you were starting to feel very unimportant in Colson’s life. Almost forgotten.

So here you were, looking at the sexy photo you had taken of yourself. It wasn’t anything too risqué - just a photo of you in some matching lingerie with one of Colson’s button ups pulled over you. You were laying on yours and Colson’s shared bed, giving the most seductive look you could muster to the camera.

And now the picture was sitting in your Instagram drafts. A caption typed up, a filter on it to give you a little extra glow. It was all ready for you to post, but you were hesitant. You had come up with the idea as a way to get Colson’s attention. Granted, it may not be a great idea, but you were lonely and, frankly, you were annoyed. You wanted him to come home, you wanted his attention. Fuck, you just wanted him to respond to the goddamn text you sent him hours ago.

You switched back to your texts to see that “Read” message still staring back at you. Your annoyance outweighed your hesitance as you went back to Instagram and hit “Post”.

Within seconds, you had thousands of likes and comments. You stared at your phone for what felt like hours, waiting for some form of recognition from Colson. A like, a comment, a text. Anything.

And you got...nothing.

You threw your phone down on the bed, tears filling your eyes. You pulled the covers over yourself and rolled into a ball, crying yourself to sleep.

~~~~~~

The sound of the front door loudly banging shut woke you. You stretched out your tired limbs as footsteps approached the bedroom. When you looked over, you were surprised to see Colson stood in the doorway.

“Hey,” you said, your voice still sheepish. “What time is it?”

“Six,” Colson responded.

“I thought you weren’t going to be home till closer to midnight.”

“I cut my day short.”

As he stepped into the dim light of the bedside lamp, you noticed a dark look on his face. A lustful look.

Now you were fully awake.

You sat up in bed, the covers falling to your lap to reveal you were still in the lingerie and Colson’s shirt. His eyes darted to your body for a moment. He moved so quickly you could barely register his movements; one moment he was in the doorway, the next he was throwing the blankets off of you, revealing your mostly naked body. You gasped as the cool air touched your bare skin.

“Good to see you’re still in that sexy outfit,” he said. “But it’s coming off.”

You nodded and started to take off the shirt. Your hands reached for the clasp of your bra, but he took hold of your wrists to stop you.

“Oh no, babe,” he said, his voice husky with lust. “I’m taking this lingerie off. Lay back.”

You did as he commanded. You laid back on the bed, looking up at Colson with wide, innocent eyes. The baby blue eyes you were so in love with were dark now. It would’ve been scary if you weren’t so turned on by his dominance.

He got up onto the bed, kneeling next to you. You kept eye contact with him as his hand reached between your legs. He yanked your panties to the side and cupped your cunt. You gasped at the contact, which turned to a moan as the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit.

“God, you’re already so wet,” he groaned. “Were you playing with yourself, princess?”

You shook your head quickly, another moan escaping your lips as he started to rub circles against your clit.

“No? This is just for me?” You nodded, but he pressed his thumb harshly against your clit. “Use your words.”

“Yes!” you exclaimed. “Yes, this is all just for you!”

“If this is all just for me, why did you post that picture for everyone to see?”

The pieces fell into place then. He had come home early because he saw the Instagram post. He was so dominant and lustful because of the picture you had posted.

Your plan had worked.

You tried not to seem so cocky over this. You’d definitely be punished if he knew the satisfaction you were feeling over this reaction.

You exclaimed in pleasure again as you felt two of Colson’s long, slender fingers pushing through your entrance. He curled them just right so that they hit your spot. You clutched at the bedsheets below you, writhing in pleasure. A look of admiration crossed Colson’s face for just a second as he watched you. He loved to see how good he made you feel, but he was also trying to keep the dominant persona going.

His fingers working inside of you and his thumb against your clit brought you to the edge within a matter of moments. You were feeling lightheaded as you chased your high. You were so close, when suddenly Colson retracted his fingers. You whined at the loss of contact, reaching for his hand to put it back where it had been. Colson grabbed your hand - both of them, actually - and pinned them over your head.

“You post that picture on Instagram,” he said, “for the entire world to see what’s mine, and you think I’d let you cum that easily?”

“Sorry,” you whimpered. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“I don’t think you are. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have posted that picture.”

He pulled you to sit up by your wrists before letting them go. “If you can be patient enough to take your master’s clothes off, you can have what you want.”

You tried not to seem too eager as you pulled Colson’s shirt over his head and started to unbutton his pants. You pulled them down along with his boxers, allowing his hard cock to pop free. You looked at it with wide, needy eyes. You were cautious as you reached for it, waiting to see if he was going to stop you. When he didn’t, you wrapped a hand around his cock and pumped a little. He moaned at your touch, his head lulling back.

You kissed the tip, causing him to gasp. Then you put the head in your mouth, still testing the waters. Turns out you didn’t need to test too hard. Colson put a hand on your head and thrusted deep into your throat. You gagged, but he only seemed to like that. He held your head and roughly fucked your mouth until your eyes were watering and the wetness between your legs grew.

Colson pulled out of your mouth and grabbed you by the throat. He roughly pushed you onto the bed and started (literally) tearing off your lingerie. “God, I can’t take it anymore. I have to be inside of you.”

He ran the head through your soaked folds, lubing himself up before pushing himself into you. You moaned out around him. His fingertips dug into your hips as he lifted them for a better advantage point. Once you were stretched enough around him, he started roughly thrusting into you. Each merciless thrust abused your g spot and moans continued to tumble from your mouth.

You could hear him praising you, sometimes even asking you questions, but you were too fucked dumb to be able to respond. All you could think of was how good he felt inside of you, and whether or not you’d be able to hold your orgasm until he had his. You were really hoping he wouldn’t make you wait, but the dominant mindset he was in told you otherwise.

You could feel the familiar pressure beginning to build. Your eyes were rolling back into your head and your legs were tightening around his waist. He could feel your walls starting to clench around him.

“You gonna cum, princess?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Open those pretty eyes and look at me while you cum on this cock.”

You pried your eyes open and looked up at him. One of his hands moved from your hips to your hand, lacing your fingers together. He continued to thrust roughly into you until you felt yourself tumbling over the edge, screams of pleasure falling from your lips as you did so. You could feel his thrusts becoming sloppy and soon enough, he was groaning your name as he spilled his warmth inside of you.

Colson collapsed on top of you, holding himself up so that he didn’t completely crush you. You were both sticky with sweat and breathing heavy. Your eyes were trying to adjust as you came down from your high, but you were still feeling slightly cross eyed from the experience.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed before Colson started to pull himself out of you and get up from the bed. You pouted as you watched him go. He saw your face and chuckled.

“I’m gonna go start the shower for us,” he said. “You can stay here till it’s ready. I figure you’re not able to walk just yet.”

Your still shaky legs were all the confirmation he needed.

“Please run it cold at first,” you said. “I don’t think I can do a hot shower right now.”

He chuckled against and nodded.

A few moments went by and you heard the shower in Colson’s ensuite start. He appeared back in the bedroom and helped you to your feet. You walked as best as you could towards the bathroom and got into the shower. You sighed as the cool water ran over your still hot and sweaty body, cooling you down to a reasonable temperature. Colson joined you, smiling at your reaction.

“So,” he said after a few moments of the two of you washing yourselves off, “what was that picture all about?”

You had almost forgotten what had gotten you to this point in the night. You weren’t sure if you should tell Colson the truth or not. Now that you had come down from your high, you worried that what you did may have seemed a bit...well...crazy. You could’ve talked to Colson about him being gone so much instead of posting a picture to make him jealous. Even if that picture had led to the hottest sex you had had in a while.

You sighed and decided to come clean. “I wanted to get your attention.”

Colson raised an eyebrow. “Well, that plan certainly worked. But why did you post a picture of yourself like that to do it?”

“Because it seemed like the only way,” you admitted. “You’ve been so busy lately and I was starting to feel...unimportant. I mean, I texted you while you were working today and you didn’t even respond. You just left me on read. I guess I just thought the only way to get your attention would be to post a picture like that and hope that maybe it would spark something inside of you.”

Colson ran a hand through your soaking hair before pulling you against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I know I’ve been busy. I never really realized how much I’ve been focusing on work versus how little I’ve been focusing on our relationship.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “I mean...it’s not completely okay, but I can’t blame you. You’ve been doing so much that you’re so proud of, and I’m proud of you too. I just want an equal balance of work and relationship. I want to cheer you on from the frontlines, not from the sidelines.”

He kissed your forehead. “Deal. I promise that for the next week I am all yours, and once I go back to work I’m taking you with me as much as I can.”

You smiled up at him. “I accept that deal.”

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly smut #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #colson baker smut #mgk #imagine #one shot #request #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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dearladynightmare · 8 months

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This song always reminds me of… him… HE is the emo guuuurl.

Try to convince me otherwise… but I mean…LOOK AT HIM! :3

#she ra entrapta #entrapta #she ra netflix #she ra fanart #she ra 2018 #hordak #entrapdak #entrapta x hordak #fanart #she ra and the princess of power fanart #emo girl #Hordak the emo guuurl #Spotify

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triplexdoublex · 1 year

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What The Cuck?

Parings: Pete x Reader / Colson x Reader

Warnings/tags: Cuckholding, squirting, P In V sex, Anal sex, Anal gaping, cum play, cum farting, make shift cock ring, dirty talk, degradation.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this, and that it was worth the wait! I’m opening anons back up.

“That’s it, Pete! I’m done, I’m leaving!” You shouted in the middle of a heated argument.

“Oh yeah, where you gonna go!?” Pete fired back as you made your way to the front door.

“I dunno, maybe I’ll go to back to Colson—he fucks me better than you do anyways!!” You let the door slam behind you.

The second it left your lips you regretted it. You were so caught up in the argument you were just saying things to be hurtful and spiteful at that point— even if there was a hint of truth to it.

It’s not that sex with Pete was bad by any means, but, yeah, Colson was definitely better. You had dated Colson for a few years, prior to you dating Pete, but things had ended amicably— just due to his hectic schedule.

You had gotten close to Pete through his friendship with Colson, and with him being more available, your friendship seemed to naturally progress into something more. Colson didn’t mind, a lot of people in their friends group had dated the same girls before, plus you were still on friendly terms with Colson, so it made group hangouts a lot less awkward.

You hoped your angry outburst wouldn’t affect their friendship, especially after you and Pete had made up and got back together. Neither of you brought it up. You silently hoped he had forgotten about it, much like how you both seemed to forget what had even started the silly argument in the first place. But you couldn’t help but notice the way he began acting when you both were around Colson lately; the way Pete tensed up when ever Colson got close to you, the way Pete would fuck you so hard the second you were alone again, like he had something to prove. At least that’s what you assumed, but the truth is Pete had a very different reason for the way he’d been acting. A reason that all came to light one day after an afternoon at Colson’s, followed by an intense fuck by Pete.

You had barely finished coming down from your high and catching your breath when Pete brought it up.

“So uhh, I’ve been thinking .. a-about what you said when we were fighting — ya know umm , what you said about Colson—”

“Pete, I’m so sorry.. I shouldn’t have said that , I was just mad and—”

“But you meant it? Didn’t you? He fucked you better than me.” Pete said, the last part sounding more like a statement than a question.

“Pete I-I” you stuttered , giving yourself away “I don’t—”

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N. Tell me the truth. Tell me he fucked you better than me!” His breathing increased and his flaccid dick slowly started springing to life again. “I wanna hear you say it!”

“Pete what the hell is —”

“Just say it! —PLEASE!” He cut you off , hand reaching for his hardening cock.

“Fine—! Uhhhh.. Colson fucked me better than you!— Happy?”

And happy he was; his shaft standing at full mast once more as he worked himself at lighting speed, “AGAIN!” He pleaded.

“Colson fucked me better than YOU!” You obliged, confused as hell but turned on nonetheless.

“Ughh Fuck— s-say something else.. about you and Colson , I’m- I’m so close!”

“At least Colson’s made me squirt before!” You teased.

That was exactly what he wanted, exactly what he needed , his cock fountaining over his fist.

“Pete. what the—” you were at a loss for words, but strangely into whatever the fuck was going on.

“I have no idea, all I know is that day we were fighting…and you said Colson fucks you better than me and slammed the door…I’ve…I’ve never been that hard in my life…haven’t been able to stop thinking about Colson fucking you since,” Pete admitted, out of breath. “Do you think Colson would … if .. if I asked?”

“Lemme get this straight — y-you wanna watch Colson fuck me?” You asked, completely flabbergasted.

“Yeah and not just that— like I want you both to tell me what a piece of shit I am in bed.”

“But — but you’re not! Colson’s not even that much b—”

“Just indulge me, ok?” Pete cut you off.

“Man, and I thought Colson had some weird kinks!” You teased. “But to answer your earlier question.. yeah, I think Colson would absolutely do it.”

“And umm.. uhh— what about you?”

“If you're really serious about this then, yeah, I guess I would. I mean , I’ve already had sex with him before so I don’t think it’d be a big deal.”

***********

“So you’re a cuck!?” Colson exclaims with a chuckle, after Pete proposes the idea the next time the three of you are alone together at Colson’s house.

“A what?” Pete questions

“A cuck— C’mom Pete, there’s a whole category on pornhub for this shit, what’d you think you were special cuz you wanna be degraded while you watch your girl get fucked?

“Well excuuuse me, for not being an expert in kink terminology like you” Pete jokes nervously. “So will you do it or not?”

“Oh I’ll do it alright,” Colson smirks as he makes his way over to the couch in his bedroom, where you’re sitting next to Pete.

Your abdomen churns with desire with every step he takes towards you. It’s been a long time since you’ve been with him in this way and you almost feel guilty at how much you’re eagerly awaiting his touch, his cock, his everything.

“I’d love to hear about how this came up,” Colson teases as he pulls you off the couch to your feet and roughly spins you around to face Pete. “You gonna tell me the story, pretty girl?” He prompts, from behind you, lips ghosting along the side of your neck and a hand slowly gliding up your inner thigh, causing your clit to swell with excitement.

You gulp with nervous anticipation before speaking as Colson’s fingers begin to disappear under the hem of your pleated skirt, and Pete’s eyes widen. “W—we had an argument, and I …Mmhhhm.. I said some things,” you let out a moan mid sentence, his fingertips having found your already engorged bud.

“You told him I fucked you better, didn’t you?” He roughly cups your pussy with his large hand, a smirk present in his tone. You nod, but it’s not good enough for him, he wants to hear you say it. “C’mon baby, you know I like it when you use your words.”

You let out a meek “yes” in response but he still wants more.

“Full sentences baby, and look at Pete when you say it.” He roughly jerks your jaw up with his free hand, forcing you to make eye contact with Pete. “Tell him who fucks you better!”

You look to Pete with unsure eyes— this is all so strangely alluring but a small part of you is still worried about hurting his feelings. But Pete gives a reassuring nod, letting you know it’s ok.

“Colson— Colson fucks me better than you!” You continue.

Instantly, you swear you can actually see Pete’s pupils darken and expand with lust — he’s truly enjoying this.

“Damn right I do!” Colson licks a bold stripe up your neck. “Did you tell him I can make you squirt?” He questions. “And use your words this time!” He warns, intensifying his grasp between your thighs.

“I did.”

“Yeah, well maybe we should do more than just tell him, maybe we should show him,” he growls in your ear as he slips your skirt off your hips and down your thighs, followed by your panties, helping you step out of them. “Feel how fucking wet your girl is for me.” Colson says tossing your soaked panties at Pete.

“Jesus, babe!” Pete gasps looking at you after catching the saturated fabric in his hand, his voice cracking into a brief laugh of disbelief at just how truly drenched they are.

“Bet you never get her that wet!” Colson mocks, and a wave of guilt mixed with humiliation wages over you, because there’s no denying that Colson’s right.

But Pete doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by the revelation, in fact he stuffs your wet undergarment down his pants and begins rubbing himself with them, all while keeping his eyes intensely locked on you and Colson. He watches wide eyed as Colson shoves you forward. You’re practically straddling Pete’s lap from where you stand now, your stance widening as Colson inserts two long slender fingers inside of you.

“Mmmm Fuck!” You cry out, your hips already bucking against his hand when his fingertips reach your G-Spot; each prod against it an erotic novel being written in Morse code. Your arousal is plentiful and squelches audibly between his fingers as you begin to tighten around his slick digits. Moan after incoherent moan fall from your lips, as he expertly works your spot.

“I can feel your pussy gripping my fingers. You’re already close, Huh?” He teases with a laugh. “I still remember all your tells,” he smirks. “And I still remember how right when you start to cum you let out that little sque—”

And as if on cue your voice cracks, your moans morphing into a shrill squeak as your orgasm warmly pulses to life in your abdomen.

“Ahh there it,” Colson chuckles smuggly, watching as your release gushes onto Petes lap; the soft light denim of his jeans now morphing into dark patches of midnight blue, all while Pete’s hand moves furiously beneath their fabric.

Pete’s speechless, his eyes flicking from you to the mess in his lap and back again in exhilarating disbelief like an unsuspecting passersby of some David Blayne-eques street magic. It was one thing to watch some strange girl in a porn squirt a million miles away behind the screen of his laptop, but it was another experience entirely to watch it live in front of him, as his own girl soaked his lap at the hands of his best friend.

“Annnd that my friends is the look of a man who’s never made a girl squirt in his life!” Colson taunts with a chuckle, while licking his fingers clean. “And don’t even think for a second that I’m done with her yet.”

Without warning Colson grabs you roughly from behind and maneuvers you in the direction of the bed, tossing you face down on his mattress. “ Ass up, you know how I like it.” He instructs before snatching off your remaining clothing.

You’ve barely even had a chance to come down from your first orgasm — in fact you're still dripping- when you hear Colson fumbling with his belt behind you. And the next thing you know he’s inside you, not even giving you a moment to adjust, his huge cock stretches you so deliciously, so perfect, each thrust pummeling your g-spot just like you remember.

“Fuck, Colson— so good.” You cry out.

“Yeah, you like this big dick deep in your guts, huh you little slut? Want me to keep fucking in front of your man like the fucking whore that you are?”

“Yess!” You moan breathily. God, he could dirty talk like no other.

“I know what else you like—” he proceeds to lick his thumb. “You like this pretty pink asshole played with, don’t you? He begins tracing his slick thumb in circles over the tight ring of muscle, slowly coaxing it open enough for him to slip his thumb inside” Your breath hitches in pleasure as it enters you.

“Mmmhmm FUCK! I missed my ass being played with like this.”

“Missed?” Colson’s questions. “Don’t tell me my boy Pete over here is too much of a pussy for some anal play?” He says, giving his friend a dirty look.

“It’s ‘not his thing’.” You mock while making direct eye contact with Pete.

“Can’t even give your girl what she wants— Pathetic !!!” Colsons fires his words in Pete’s direction, while he rotates his thumb inside you. “Now your sorry ass can sit there and watch ME give it to her.”

Pete’s eating this up, every teasing and taunting word spat his way traveling straight to dick. So much so that Pete desperately needs out of the hellish confines of his jeans to work himself more vigorously. His dark, wide pupils stay locked on the scene before him as he quickly lowers his pants down and over his pale ass to their final resting place right above his knees, and pulls out his cock, your soaked panties tumbling out with it.

Colson’s long slender body contours to your curves as he leans forward to seductively whisper in your ear “Should I loosen you up a little more, since it’s been so long? Or you think you can take me?”

“Fuck, Colson! Just give it to me!”

You know it’s gonna hurt, but you're so desperate to feel him back there again that you don’t care — besides in the words of Colson himself ‘a little bit of pain kinda make it feel good sometimes.’

With nothing but remnants of your arousal and his own spit as lube he begins his taboo entrance into what most only consider an exit. You relax your body and breathe through the inevitable discomfort of adjusting to his size, just as he had taught you years ago.

“Good girl, that’s it, breathe.” He praises. “You know it’s gonna feel so good in a minute.” He gently caresses your hips, helping you relax further.

By the time his length is fully inserted the pain has already begun to subside, replaced by the most intoxicating pleasurable fullness; every tiny nerve ending inside you set ablaze. God, you’ve missed the unique sensation. He feels impossibly deep, but yet somehow you crave him deeper.

“Fuck, Colson. Right there” you cry out as you push back against him; your backside now pressed appropriately against his XXX tattoo.

Just when you think it can’t possibly feel anymore pleasureful he begins to move inside you, slow at first, drawing his hips back until he almost slips out, then steadily forward until his hips kiss your backside again, his thick length reaching that pleasurable spot deep within you.

“So good, sooo FUCK-ing good, Oh My God , Colson!” You babble, already inebriated off his cock.

“Mmmmm Yeah, say my name again, remind Pete who fucks you right!”

It’s at this point you realize you’ve been so lost in the pleasure your ex is giving you that you completely forgot your boyfriend exists, nevermind the fact that he’s in the same room .. watching!

A cocktail of arousal and guilt swirl in your abdomen as you look towards Pete. Lucky for you he hasn’t seen to notice, too lost in his own fantasy-come-to-life playing out in front of him.

Suddenly, Pete’s head lolls back, his eyes slip shut and his eyebrows knit together ; a sign you know all too well.

“Gonna— Mmmm Fuck!, Gonna cum first like usual?” You taunt Pete through shattered moans.

Determined not to prove you right, Pete stills his motions for a moment and tightly grips himself at the base, silently wishing he had a cockring to restrict blood flow and help him last longer.

Pete adjusts his position on the couch while trying to gain some composure before he busts, his free hand coming down on something wet — you’re panties from earlier. The discovery sparks an idea. In an act of pure desperation, Pete fashions a makeshift cockring from the garment, quickly twisting the elastic waistband around the base of his cock, veins bulging almost immediately. Despite his best efforts he knows he isn’t buying himself that much more time, especially when he notices the way your arousal from your unplugged hole is dripping down your inner thighs like thick honey; so sweet he can almost taste it.

Colson's stamina is unmatched, he could drill your asshole for hours on end if you really needed him too, but he knows you're ready to cum by the way your legs are beginning to shake. You can feel it too, the way your lower abdomen squeezes and tightens climbing it way to the peak, and then just like a rollercoaster it comes surging down at a break-neck speed, an endless series of loop de loops as you climax hard. Your body is useless,, unable to even hold itself up on all fours while Colson’s warm cum fills you to the brim.

Quickly Colson pulls out and props you back up, turning your body so your ass faces Pete, and spreads your cheeks open. “Uhgmm, yeahh, fuck!” His voice is dry and raspy “Show Pete that gape, and show Pete how I came inside you, push it all out baby, let him see.”

You do as you’re told, and Pete cums, forcefully fountaining over his fist at the site of his best friends cum bubbling and farting out of your used hole.

The three of you are blissfully silent in the aftermath but it’s quite clear by everyone’s euphoric expression this will definitely be happening again .

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