Author's Note: Written for this prompt on the Kink Meme: Dakota dies. I don't care how, I just want him dead. Someone please kill this icky, rape culture-y pervert.
It's pretty short and crappy, but still. Here it is. Violence and whatnot ahead.
To Dakota's immense surprise and delight, there is a girl holding his towel as he heads back to shore, his surfboard tucked under his arm.
And god, what a girl she is. She's in a skimpy red bikini that showcases butter-smooth skin as brown as the wet sand she stands on, tight licorice braids falling down to her grapefruit shaped behind.
"Hi," she says when he gets up closer and her voice is sweeter than birthday cake. "This is yours, right?"
"Yeah," he replies, grinning.
She wipes his brow and puts the towel around his neck. Her eyes are dark, dark umber, almost black like nights without stars. There's something familiar about those eyes. Dakota could almost swear he'd looked in them before.
"You seem familiar," he says. "Have we met?"
"Nope. I'm Saoirse." She smiles and it's a pretty smile, but his eyes are more drawn to her chest.
"Dakota," he replies. "So you got anything going on today, Saoirse?"
"I think I have plans with a cute surfer boy." She giggles coyly and touches his arm. "That's my parents' beach house over there." She points to one of the brightly painted houses on the hill overlooking the ocean. "They're not home right now. Do you wanna see my room?"
Man, is this day getting better by the second or what!?
Dakota leans in and brushes his lips over hers, hand creeping back to cup the curve of her ass. "I wanna see more than just your room."
"Trust me." She winks. "You will."
Saoirse swivels and takes his hand, lacing their fingers. She leads him up to the house and he leaves his surfboard outside. As soon as they're inside Dakota kisses her again, harder, hungrily. She tastes like salt and melting popsicles. She kisses him back, running her tongue along his teeth, exhaling a gasp into his mouth as he squeezes her breast.
She skims her fingers over his tattoos and he kisses down the column of her neck as they stumble clumsily back to her room. He's already hard as she pushes him back onto her bed and straddles his waist.
She unclips her bikini top and her ogles her bare breasts as she uses it to tie his wrists to the bedpost. When she pulls the knot it's a little too tight, but it's not every day that a gorgeous girl is the one to seek him out and invite him right over, so Dakota isn't going to spoil the mood by bitching. She kisses him again, hot and slobbery, pressing herself against him.
She rakes her fingers back through his hair and flicks her tongue deviously over his earlobe before she pulls back. She slips her bikini bottom down over her legs in a sensual movement and pulls it down over his head, covering his eyes with the red, red fabric.
"I'm gonna make you feel good," she whispers, so sultry it sends a shiver up his spine.
Dakota sticks his tongue out to goad her along and she licks it, her hands yanking down his trunks. The cold air hits his hard-on and the next thing he expects to feel is her taking him in his mouth, her tongue pressing to the underside or her cheeks hollowed around it.
He feels neither of these things. What he feels is a burning flash of searing pain. Hot wetness soaks his thighs as instantaneous as a popped water balloon. As he screams she punches him in the jaw.
Saoirse rips her bottoms off his head and his heart stutters at the velocity of a race car, eyes stretching in the sockets as he sees what else is in her hand. His severed dick, spurting blood like a firehouse hose.
Dakota screams until his vocal chords rip raw and she throws her head back with a cruel cackle.
"I look familiar to you, scumbag, because you used my sister. You told her you liked her and then threw her away when you were done getting off. You broke her heart and sent her pictures to all those other nasty boys. So now, choke on it!" She crams his dick in his mouth. He coughs and sputters as his teeth catch on the skin, breath cut off.
Dakota struggles dizzily, the pain fading as this fuzziness steals his head. Those eyes, he remembers now. Her remembers the girl he fucked, staring up at him with those eyes and asking him to please be gentle because she'd never done it before. For the life of him, he can't remember her name but he still has her nudes on his phone.
He tries to apologize but all that comes out is a weak garble beneath his own cold cock.
Beh. Crappy, cliché crap. Still, figured death by sex was the way to go considering OP's reasoning for wanting Dake dead. Well, that's that I guess.