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kaysfanficcorner · 3 days ago

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Celebrity Crush, Part 2

Summary: Dieter Bravo's new friend attends opening night of Dieter's play, and afterwards the two of them get more acquainted.

AO3

Author's Note:

I cannot believe it's been so long since I posted the first chapter of Celebrity Crush. Suffice to say, my life got completely turned upside down for awhile. I started a new job, and then shortly after we had a complete psycho living next door to us and had to vacate our home for safety. The last year has been so hard for a multitude of reasons, and although I didn't have the drive in me to do any writing, Celebrity Crush and Out of this World (my Mando series) have remained in the forefront of my mind. Both of these stories are so important to me. A few days ago it suddenly hit me that I was ready to sit behind a keyboard again.

So here we are, the second chapter of Celebrity Crush that should have been posted a over year ago. If you're new to this story, then welcome. If you read the first chapter and wondered why I never posted another, I sincerely hope you're back and you enjoy this one.

As I've said before, this story is really just a fun little fantasy experiment and I probably wont post chapters too frequently. And like most of us, I use my writing to work through personal shit using creativity. Some of it is drawing from reality and some of it is completely made up.

Honestly, I don't care for The Bubble over all. But I think Dieter is such an interesting character for being from a film that didn't have much substance. I feel the Dieter in the film is very different than the Dieter in my head, but what drew me to writing him this way was the thought "What is this man like when he's not riddled with drugs and Hollywood bullshit?" I hope you enjoy my version of Dieter just as much as I do.

Warnings: Marijuana use. Mentions of depression and self hatred. Hints at suicidal thoughts and self harm. And, of course, sexual situations. Rated M/R/18+ as always.

*****

Against the odds you make it to the theater faster than anticipated, but all the while your nerves make the train ride seem to feel agonizingly slow. Every stop eats away at you. It’s crowded and you’re freezing. The thin lace of the shimmery black evening gown may look absolutely killer on you, but the elegant thing isn’t a very warm piece of clothing whatsoever. All you brought with you as far as outerwear goes is the black leather jacket on your back. The only carry on item a small black and gold purse slung across your chest filled with only the bare necessities.

You feel borderline insane, still half convinced that everything you experienced earlier today was the result of falling and busting your head open on the Manhattan sidewalk. Surely you're laid up in some hospital bed with a bandage around your noggin, not on your way to spend an evening with your celebrity crush.

Your thoughts are erratic. Images bouncing around in your head like the orange balls of an arcade basketball game. At first you try to listen to music to quiet the overstimulation, but that only serves to make you more antsy. So you go back to the podcast episode you’d been listening to earlier and the humor is enough to distract you for a little while.

Every now and then, though, you pull up the short text conversation with Dieter to re-read over (more like over-analyze) the messages. With a happy little smile playing at your lips, your fingers hover over the letters of the keyboard. You even type out a message or two before immediately deleting it on more than one occasion. The knot in your stomach feels like its getting tighter by the moment, but looking at the contact photo he'd left for you leaves a warmth in the center of that knot. His eyes are so kind, and the goofy little smile is so genuine.

Groaning to yourself after the fourth time you do this, you shove your phone back in the small handbag with a huff. You want to talk to him again but you're fully aware that he's busy with the show. Closing your eyes, you force yourself to focus on the host of your favorite podcast describing a scene from Poltergeist II. You can't help the girlish daydreaming that eventually creeps into your mind. You imagine that watching Fright Night at Dieter’s will go so well that he invites you back over to marathon the Poltergeist franchise next. Then you imagine making a regular thing of watching horror films with him, curled into his side on some big luxurious couch that you're sure he must own. His hand ghosting over the flesh of your neck as he drapes a long arm over your shoulder, the other hand feeding you popcorn now and again. The giddiest smile yet finds your lips, and an excited little giggle erupts from your throat. Out loud.

Once you remember you’re on the train your eyes snap open in fear. Sure enough, the hot, green haired punk woman across the aisle is smirking right at you as if she knows your worst secret and you flush with mild embarrassment.

Mercifully, somehow, your stop comes up only a few minutes later. You’re off the train and back on street in no time at all, the sun almost completely set and the full moon already hanging high over the city of New York. The littlest taste of dark purple left in the sky is enough to make your heart soar, and you're once again reminded that you live here. In this huge, scary, magical place.

With the help of your trusty GPS you manage find the correct theater in under five minutes. It’s incredibly obvious as you round a corner and your sight is immediately struck with huge lamppost advertisements of Dieter and other actors dressed in Shakespearean garb. You’re not sure how to feel, gooseflesh making it’s way up your arms and back as you stand under the glowing marquee displaying his name in huge red letters. Checking your watch you find that you're actually somewhat early, so there’s plenty of time to get your ticket. Enough time to grab a drink from the bar on your way to your seat, even. Some of the anxiety subsides as you pop another half of a gummy on your way inside, telling yourself that whatever happens next you’re just along on for the ride.

The theater lobby is gorgeous, and it's filled with gorgeous people of every variety. You've been to a Broadway show before, but a matinee of a family friendly musical is a far cry from opening night of a huge production. There are a few minor celebrities you recognize and you're sure a good bit of the crowd is press, or at the very least some sort of influencer. A few of them even seem to be live streaming.

When you approach the box office you slide your ID under the thin gap in the glass, saying your full name to the white haired attendant dressed like a bellhop without the hat. For a split second fear creeps into your belly that all of this really is in your head and the woman is about to tell you there’s no such reservation. But then you’re being handed a thin envelope and she’s telling you to enjoy the show. You look down at the off white paper in your hands, very clearly reading the word “weirdo” scribbled in semi-legible masculine-looking handwriting. A new warmth spreads through you in that moment, and suddenly you’re no longer questioning the reality of where you are or why.

Once you check your jacket at the coat check you’re glad that you found the right dress for such an event. Everyone around you seems very well dressed and well-to-do. In anything else you’d feel so out of place, but in the knockout frock of 2018? You fit in nicely. Henry will most assuredly have to be thanked at a later juncture.

With a gin and tonic in one hand and a ticket in the other, you’re directed to a seat down in the front row but slightly off to the left. Of course he got you front row. How? Who knows and frankly who cares. This is a once in a lifetime kind of day and you intend to enjoy it.

Lights begin to dim shortly after you take your seat, and shortly after that music begins flowing out from the pit orchestra only a few yards away from where you sit. The sound of it reverberates through every single one of your molecules. The great red curtain begins to lift, and suddenly you’re transported into the realm of William Shakespeare. Admittedly never a subject you’ve felt very passionate about, but being here in this place and under these circumstances it suddenly seems quite magical.

Dieter makes his way onto the stage after a short opening scene, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him. This is not the man you met on the street and had coffee with earlier that afternoon. No, this is a different man entirely. His handsome face may be the same, but he’s completely become the character he’s playing. Truly acting, you think to yourself with mystified splendor. Watching him move about the stage with such ease brings the biggest grin to your face. Hearing him delivering lines that you would have stumbled over as if they are his original thoughts is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced while watching a live play. He’s so fucking mesmerizing and so fucking talented and you ache for him so fucking bad in this moment.

This is the closest you've ever been to the stage at a show like this, and you realize towards the end of the first act just how much the distance makes a difference. Sure, you can still appreciate a performance from the nosebleeds, but down here in the front row? You can see everything. Every crinkle of the nose, every eyeroll, every movement of the brow. The performance feels so intimate in the front row. You finally understand why people consider it to be worth the cost.

The scene changes to night. Dieter's character is alone on stage, a spotlight following his movements as he confidently strides across. He's making his way over to your side, the closer he gets the more you feel your stomach flip flop inside you. His movements seem both deliberate and natural at the same time, and he begins to deliver a monologue in a soft voice. His eyes suddenly flick out towards you. For a delusional moment it feels as if he's acting to you and you alone, like you're the only audience he has before him and he's putting everything he has into the words flowing from his mouth. Suddenly his voice falters, followed by a long pause. He's still looking in your direction, but then his eyes slip closed and worry that he stumbled over the line floods your system.

Dieter continues to surprise you, though, by lunging into the rest of the monologue with such raw emotion and ferocity. He quickly moves across stage again, giving that side of the audience a taste of it as well. You realize then that all of that had been part of the performance. Watching the emotions he's tapped into radiate from his very being strikes you with such emotion of your own. Hot tears well in you eyes, falling slowly down your cheeks as you steady your breathing to keep control of yourself. Dabbing at your eyes with a napkin, your chest swells for your celebrity crush.

As Dieter finishes, he exits the stage and the curtain begins to drop for intermission. The crowd claps uproariously, yourself among some of the loudest and most enthusiastic.

After such a poignant moment in the show, you definitely feel like you could use to get another drink. You get up to leave just as an attendant stops you at the end of the aisle. The man asks if you are who you are, to which you respond in the affirmative, and then you’re being led out of the auditorium to a restricted area. There you are brought to a green door marked as “Dressing Room 1”, where the attendant raps on the thing three times before taking three strides back.

Door flying open, a disheveled Dieter is revealed to you on the other side. He looks frantic, almost pained. You’re shocked to see him like this after such a rousing performance in the first half of the play. Grabbing your wrist, he thanks the attendant and informs him that this will only take a few moments before yanking you into the small dressing room.

“What’s going on?” You ask, wide-eyed and confused.

Dieter looks you up and down, biting his pouty lower lip while running a hand through his beautiful brown hair. The he seems to remember that he’s not supposed to fuck up the hair, cursing under his breath while moving over to the mirror to fix it. He’s got on heavy stage make up, the eyeliner making him look like a mix between a rock star and a pirate. The dressing room itself looks like every single one you’ve ever seen in a movie. Costumes, make up, and wigs strewn about. Big white lightbulbs lining the large mirror over the vanity. Its surreal to say the least.

“I need your help, if that’s okay,” Dieter says as he turns to you again. “I don’t have a lot of time so this needs to be quick.”

You’re still frozen in place, slightly dumbfounded. “Help with what? You’re doing really great out there, by the way. Amazing, actually.”

“Thanks. Listen, I caught a glimpse of you towards the end of the first act and I’ve been distracted ever since. You look so fucking gorgeous in that dress, muñequita. But I can’t be fucking distracted while I work.” As he says this, he’s taking steps towards you with a very serious expression. Closing the short distance until he’s practically right up against you.

Looking up into his deep chocolate eyes, which are fixated on your mouth, you part you lips and ask him, “How can I help?”

Then his hands fly to your face, and he’s pulling you into him for a kiss. His soft, plump lips find yours eagerly and you respond by melting into his touch. Your hands find his waist, grabbing on either side to steady yourself against the neediness of the kiss while trying not to upset the placement of his costume. The slickness of his tongue entering your mouth causes you to moan, opening wider to allow him better entry. He tastes so fucking good, like honey from the cup of tea he probably had earlier for his voice. His facial hair feels somehow both scratchy and soft against your skin.

And then he’s pulling apart from you, panting slightly as his wild eyes scan your face and his hands drop down to his sides. “Shit, I didn't really ask for permission to touch you like that. M’sorry,” he mumbles, clearly worried that a line has been irrevocably crossed.

You chuckle, glad to know his moral sense is sound. “I would have said yes, if it makes you feel any better. Thanks for caring about not being a dick, though.”

He looks shy, “I like you. Don’t want to get off on the wrong foot immediately.”

You heart rate speeds up when he says that he likes you. “Sorry I’m so distracting,” you offer lamely.

“Don’t be, muñequita.” He places another chaste kiss upon your lips before spinning you around and urging you towards the door. You let him guide you with ease. “We’ll continue this later, but I’ve got to get ready. Thank you for indulging me.”

“You’re welcome,” you say, grinning over your shoulder at him. “To be continued.”

“Si, mi hermosa.”

With that, you’re out in the hallway once more as the door closes behind you. You lean back against it with your head tilted up at the ceiling and your eyes closed, replaying the kiss you just shared with your celebrity crush. Once again everything feels both completely unreal and entirely tangible at the same time. A giddy grin spreads across your face as you giggle to yourself, fingers lightly grazing your still tingling lips. And then the sound of someone clearing their throat pulls you back to reality.

The attendant is still there, having waited to escort you back to your seat. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow for a moment before he turns on his heel to begin walking back to the auditorium. Fucking really? Again? Oh well, you think with another giggle as you follow him.

Pulling out your phone, you send a quick update to Henry in the form of a single lipstick stain emoji and five exclamation points. You receive a colorful response almost immediately, making you snort a little as you type out, “I am not a skank! ...not yet at least,” in response.

The rest of the show goes off without a hitch. Dieter’s performance in the final scene brings tears to your eyes once again. It has nothing to do with the attraction you feel towards him. You’re completely in awe of him on a professional level. Regardless of the messy reputation he’s been trying to move away from, at the end of the day Dieter Bravo is still a really great actor. Phenomenal, even.

After the standing ovation and the curtain call, during which Dieter winks down at you just as he lifts up from bowing and your heart skips a beat, everyone in the auditorium starts to vacate. Some people outright leave, others go to the bar for one more drink to mingle and discuss the show. Dieter had told you to stay put, and you never did get that second gin and tonic during intermission so you make your way through the crowds on a quest for your favorite drink.

Once at the lavish bar with your order placed, you lean against the elegant mahogany and truly take in your surroundings. It feels odd to be in a beautiful room full of well dressed strangers as they argue the finer points of William Shakespeare’s works. You over hear a couple of people praising Dieter, one person saying that he was “just fine, nothing spectacular”, and you find the concept of difference of opinion very interesting as you quietly hone in your eavesdropping skills.

Just as the bar tender is sliding your drink over, the small crowd of people begin clapping and cheering. You look up to see Dieter and some of the other actors from the show enter the bar, dressed in normal clothes once again. Even though he’s forced to smile and shake hands with a few random people along the way, he seems to notice you almost immediately. A wicked grin crosses his features as he tries his best to make a beeline for you.

“So you’re a gin and tonic girl?” Dieter asks as he finally approaches the bar, and you’re aware of many eyes on you.

“Uh huh,” you nod, talking through a plastered on smile, “I feel so fucking awkward right now with these people looking at me wondering why you’re talking to me.”

“Fuck these people,” whispering, he grins again almost devilishly, “so are you coming back to my place?”

You nod again, “Yes, please. If you'll still have me.”

“Fantastic,” he leans over the bar to whisper even lower, careful not to get too close with prying eyes all around. He orders a drink, just a seltzer with lime oddly enough, making it look like he’s idly chatting with you as he waits. “Here’s the plan: I have to mingle for a minute and sign a few autographs, but then I can make my escape. Drink your drink and wait about fifteen minutes, then leave out the front and go two blocks to the left then one to the right. There's a news stand on that corner. Wait for me there.”

“Copy that,” you agree, grinning as you take a sip. “Bravo by the way, Bravo. The play was great. You were great. I mean it.”

“Thanks, muñequita.” He chuckles, smiling almost bashfully. The smile accentuates all of the best things about his features, leaving him looking like a work of art. It’s insane that a man a almost twenty years older than you is so youthful to you. Youthful and so very beautiful. The concept shouldn’t work yet somehow it does. He’s so pretty. And by some stroke of fate he's interested in you.

So you execute this plan, waiting the agreed upon fifteen minutes as he fucks off to go mingle. You make quick work of running for one last trip to the bathroom, collecting your jacket, and leaving the theater all together. Stepping out into the chilly night, you walk two blocks to the left and one to the right just as he instructed. The news stand is there just as he said, but it's locked up for the night. It’s cold as hell and you really wish that you’d thought better of it when you left Queens. Holding yourself, you bounce from foot to foot trying to stay warm as you watch your breath form in front of your face. It’s only autumn and you’re from a few states further south, so you hadn’t considered how chilly the night would be.

“Hey, weirdo,” a voice appears from behind you after a long while. You turn to see Dieter standing there, a shy little smile playing at his lips and his hands shoved in his pockets. He’s wearing the black pea coat you’d seen him in earlier that afternoon, but the sunglasses have been replaced with a gray scarf and hat that he did not have before.

“Hey, crush,” you respond, attempting to grin at him through lightly chattering teeth.

He frowns, “Is that all you have to wear?”

“Yeah,” you pout, “I didn’t think this through. I was too worried about looking cute.”

“Well you succeeded, but you’ve got to dress warmer than that in this town.” He shakes his head, chuckling as he slowly unravels the dark gray scarf from himself. Stepping forward, he delicately drapes the warm thing around your neck, wrapping it around a few times so that you can bury the lower half of your face in its warmth if you feel the need to. You nearly moan as you inhale the scent of it, the scent of him. It’s intoxicating, carrying notes of tobacco, weed, and expensive cologne. You could breathe this in forever and never need real oxygen ever again.

“Your scarf smells really fucking good,” you mumble into the fabric, taking an obvious sniff. That second gin and tonic must have lowered your inhibitions slightly.

“You look really fucking cute in my scarf,” he says, pulling his coat together at the neck to try and shield himself from the fresh blasts of cold in that particular area. “What do you say we go watch that movie?”

“Let’s go,” agreeing, you nod forward as if to tell Dieter you want him to lead the way. He surprises you by extending an elbow so that you can grab hold of his arm while you walk beside each other. “How far is your place?”

*****

Dieter loves the feeling of your arm sliding into his, pulling you in close as he begins walking towards the apartment. Your hand grazes his for a moment, and when he feels how cold your flesh is to the touch he shakes his head with a chuckle. Working his fingers into yours, Dieter takes your hand in his before shoving both into the large pocket of his coat. Even though it’s cold to the point of being uncomfortable, he relishes in the feeling of your smaller hand in his.

“Not too far. Rented close to the theater so I could just walk to work.”

You snuggle into him after a little gust of wind causes you to shiver, burying your face into his scarf. Dieter is beside himself as you inhale deeply once again, looking up at him with a little grin. “Fuck, this thing smells so damn good. You smell so good.”

He's sure he's blushing from that.

Soon enough he’s guiding you into the entrance of the swanky apartment building lobby, explaining to the doorman that you’re his guest on the way towards the elevator. Once in the elevator, he hits the button for his floor and watches as you adjust to the warmth of the building’s heating system. You shake your arms out, leaning back against the hand rail.

“I can’t believe I didn’t think to wear a better coat," you say.

“You may have suffered, but you do look fucking incredible in that outfit.” Dieter smirks down at you, one hand on the mirrored wall you’re pressed against as he looms over. He enjoys the way you squirm under his gaze. “Tell me, muñequita, did you get all dressed up like this to impress me? Did your hair and make up all nice even though we both know you don’t need any of that fucking shit?”

You blush, avoiding his gaze for a moment before meeting his eyes again. He’s already leaning forward and you’re already lifting up to meet him halfway. “I might have,” you say lowly with a little smirk playing at your lips. “Maybe I like getting dressed up, and maybe I wanted to make sure that you knew I wasn’t fucking around with my intentions here.”

Just as his lips are about to make contact with yours, the elevator stops and the door opens. His head jerks up just in time to see a neighbor standing there waiting for their turn in the metal contraption. Clearing his throat, Dieter gestures for you to exit the elevator with him and the two of you awkwardly shuffle past the stranger. You’re stifling giggles and he lightly slaps you on the ass, no more than a tap really, as he chuckles.

Dieter’s apartment is right down the hall to the left. Unlocking the door, he allows you entry first and steps in behind you as he repositions the bolt to locked once more while also locking the chain. When he turns you’re standing there in the foyer a literal fucking vision, looking up at him with big doe eyes. He can tell that you’re a little nervous now that you’re actually in his home, but the awkwardness only serves to enhance how adorable you are to him. Dressed up in a sexy fucking black dress but with an almost timid energy is such a wild contrast.

“So, I want to take a shower before we settle in for the movie,” he says, “you’re welcome to borrow a sweater if you want something warm to change into.”

“I appreciate that. I could use to get cozy.”

Your cheeks flush, and he resists the urge to kiss you once more. Not yet. Earlier had been way too impulsive, like the old Dieter, and he wants the next time he kisses you to feel perfect. He likes you a lot. It makes him want to do right by you in a way that he's never been compelled to in the past. Not even with Anika, who he thought he loved a great deal at the time.

Dieter takes you through the decently sized apartment, noticing fondly how you’re slowly taking in your surroundings as he does so. He enters the bedroom, gesturing to the king sized bed with dark trimmings as he moves over to the huge closet and flings it open. Rifling through the selection, he plucks out a heavy eggplant purple sweater. Then he moves over to a dresser, where he pulls out a pair of black boxer briefs.

He looks you up and down, savoring every inch of your body in the black dress one more time before he offers you the warmer clothes. “Here, you can change into this if you want to. Feel free to make yourself comfortable while I’m getting cleaned up. I won’t be very long.”

*****

You watch as he lays the clothing down on the bed before moving for the attached bathroom. He shuts himself in with a little smirk on his face and you can hear the water begin to run, followed by the pleasant sound of Dieter humming to himself. The sound of it brings a smirk of your own to your lips.

Pulling out your phone, you quickly inform Henry that you’re at Dieter’s and you’re safe. Then you shrug off the leather jacket, sitting on the edge of the bed to undo your combat boots and kick them off. Standing while simultaneously unzipping yourself, you begin stripping down to your underwear. The nature of the gown’s neckline made it so that you’d foregone a bra tonight, so for a brief moment you’re standing in Dieter Bravo’s bedroom in nothing but socks, a pair of panties, and jewelry.

After admiring yourself in the large full-length mirror next to the closet, you move to grab his big purple sweater. The soft knitted garment slides over your head with ease, falling to just below your hips. You take the pair of boxer briefs, slipping them on like a pair of bike shorts. Your plump ass is almost too big to fit his size and you’re thinking endlessly about the fact that his dick was once nestled in this very fabric, but you manage to make it work.

Looking around the room, you try to get a vibe for what Dieter’s private life must look like. You’re happy to see that he’s still painting, having noticed a messy room full of canvases next to this mostly tidy bedroom. He’s got a living room and kitchen, obviously. It’s definitely bigger and far more modern than the apartment you share with Henry in Queens, but its not as extravagant as you’d expected it to be. He’s got a few things on the walls of the sleekly styled bedroom. Various dark atheistic art pieces, a vintage movie poster for some Italian horror film you’ve heard of but never seen, and a few framed Queens of The Stone Age vinyl's. He’d told you in the coffee shop that they’re his favorite band, and he wasn’t kidding. Not only is his tase in film similar to yours, his taste in music seems to be as well.

When your eyes land on the golden statue situated on a nearby shelf, said eyes nearly fall right out of your head. It's a shape you know well. An academy award, an Oscar. There are a few other awards on the same shelf. A Golden Globe, a few Emmys, and some you don't recognize. But the Oscar? Holy. Shit. That one is special for a multitude of reasons. You remember the night that Dieter won that Oscar so fondly, given that you and your parents would sit down to watch the award ceremony live every single year. Once you were old enough to appreciate film the way that you do now, the three of you would try and see every singe film that was nominated. That way, when the big night finally came, you could have your opinions and make your guesses with the confidence of someone who had seen the films. You used to look at your parents with complete confidence and tell them you plan to be there one day. That one way or another they'd go to watch and see you on the red carpet. Hopefully a dream that can still be achieved.

You'd been in high school when Dieter won his. The crush you have on him was already in full swing at this point. You'd begged your parents to go see his film opening weekend, and when the news of his best actor nomination came out you were over the moon for him. After having watched his career evolve from b-movie horror flicks to big studio films, you told your mother and father that he deserved it more than anyone. Your father had knowingly told you that maybe your little crush was clouding your judgment, so of course you'd rubbed it in his face when Dieter won.

Smiling to yourself, you can recall the way your stomach flipped and your heart swelled at the sight of him on the red carpet. He'd been dressed to the nines, with perfect skin and perfect hair. The biggest take away you have always kept with you from that night was how utterly grateful Dieter Bravo seemed to be there. Like he didn't quite believe that he deserved the recognition at all. It was bashful in a way that feels akin to how bashful he's been acting around you all night. The same kind of energy.

Thinking of the shock on a younger Dieter's face when the presenter opened the envelope and read his name to the audience, and the tears in his eyes as he climbed the stairs to the stage to make his acceptance speech, you're reminded of the fact that this must have been one of the biggest moments in his life. You'd watched him hold his Oscar with such fondness that night, and now that exact same statue is not three feet from your face. Involuntary movements cause your arm to reach out, and two of your fingers lightly caress the smooth surface. You desperately want to know how heavy it feels in your hands, but you don't dare try to remove it from its perch. God forbid you break the damn thing.

Dieter told you to get comfortable so you move to climb onto the bed, laying on your stomach at the foot of it. It’s so fucking luxurious that you nearly moan, pressing yourself into the pleasant material. A laugh bubbles up your throat as you realize that your parents are going to lose their minds when they eventually find out about this evening. Given that they had to hear Dieter's name dozens of times when you were a teenager, this is going to come as a wild shock.

Soon the shower cuts off and you hear him rummaging around in there. Then the door opens and Dieter reappears wearing an olive green bathrobe. His sopping wet hair looks two shades darker, falling around his head in a way that makes him look so adorable as he smiles over at you. His naturally tan skin is slightly reddish, indicating that the water of his shower had been hot.

“Mm,” he hums, “wearing my clothes in and lying my bed is a good look for you, muñequita. Better than that dress, even.”

You smile up at him, rolling onto your back as you stretch out. The littlest bit of tummy peaks out when the sweater rides up, and Dieter’s facial expression changes for the briefest of moments as he blatantly stares at the area of exposed flesh. You wonder if he’s going to try and make a move while he’s already mostly naked, but he quietly grabs himself a T-shirt and sweatpants before heading back into the bathroom without saying a word. You can’t decide if you’re disappointed or not. When he comes out again fully dressed, smelling of tea tree oil and hair fixed slightly with product, you sit up and swing your legs over the side of the bed to stand next to him.

Bashfully gesturing for you to follow, he takes you out to the living room where a large couch and even larger TV are waiting to be used for their intended purpose. “Grab a blanket from that basket and make yourself at home,” he says in a friendly manner, moving to a bookshelf imbedded into the wall itself. There he plucks a horizontally placed book-the only one like this-off the second shelf down from the top. Coming to sit beside where you’re doing exactly what you’d been told, he sets the book down on the coffee table before grabbing the remotes to get the TV set up.

You lean forward, peering at the book for not even a millisecond before you realize that it looks like a beat up copy of Stephen King’s IT in hardcover. But its clearly not a real book. Upon closer inspection, it appears to be a wooden box made to look like a book.

“What’s with IT?” You ask, left eye brow raised as you point to it.

“That’s one of my favorite books, scared the shit out of me as a young man,” he explains enthusiastically. “I take it the weirdo is a fan?”

“Oh hell yeah,” you’re also full of enthusiasm, similar to when you gushed about Fright Night to him at the coffee shop. “It’s indisputably King’s masterpiece! I’ve read it three times. But I meant what’s up with the fake copy.”

Dieter smirks at you, leaning forward to flick the thing open with an index finger. “This, muñequita, is my stash box. I’ve had this thing since college. It’s been with me through all kinds of crazy shit in my dumb life.”

Inside is a small row of four perfectly rolled joints all lined up together with a lighter and a small ashtray. You look down at the nice little set up, realizing that the act of smoking must be somewhat of a ritual for Dieter Bravo. Much like how you view your own use of weed in your daily life. It’s endearing to see that the two of you relate in that way. You’re also relieved to see that there isn’t anything harder than marijuana in the box.

“Love the set up,” you bump your shoulder into his, “and I love that you’re a weed guy. I never make any friends with the same sensibilities when it comes to smoking.”

Dieter’s face contorts for a second, morphing into something akin to uncomfortable. “Well, it’s the one vice I really allow myself these days besides cigarettes. Don’t really even drink much anymore. Before my last stint in rehab, I nearly died. Again. And then I lost everything. Got dropped by my old agent, then Anika left me. Ended up getting passed over for a role I felt really passionate about and the actor who did get the gig is probably going to be up for an Oscar this year. Some family stopped taking my calls. I didn’t know what real rock bottom felt like until all that shit happened. What a fucking wake up call. That was a little over a year ago. If it wasn’t for my sister helping me out I’d probably be dead right now.”

You’d read a headline last year about how Dieter was in rehab again, but you had no idea how bad things had actually been for him. Reaching a hand out, you tentatively stroke the inside of his wrist with a few fingertips. “Fuck, Dieter. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Please don’t be. I did it to myself. I let the pressure of Hollywood kill the little kid in me who just wanted to make movies like the ones I would go see with my family in the 80s. I’ve always had an addictive personality, and once you become famous it’s incredibly easy to get the worst kinds of drugs and fuck the worst kinds of people and do the dumbest kind of shit. That’s why I’m back in New York for the foreseeable future. I needed a break from LA and all the bullshit that comes with it.”

“Do you worry that smoking is going to make you relapse, though?” You ask, hoping you don’t sound judgmental. He’s opening up to you a lot, and you’d rather not scare him off. “Also I’m sorry for speaking so fondly of doing mushrooms at the coffee shop earlier today and for drinking at the show, if that was triggering at all.”

“Nah. I barely smoked weed like this before now. My thing was always coke and LSD and anything else like that I could get my hands on. Hard shit. Chemical shit. My doctor actually prescribed a medical card because smoking helps chill me out and relax when I feel like the pressure is getting too strong again and a real craving is starting to hit me. And no worries about the mushrooms or the drinks. I’ll never touch that chemically altered shit ever again, but if it grows from the Earth it’s alright by me. I’m also in therapy, so that’s helping a lot. I feel like I got a second lease on life, and I’m trying really hard not to fuck things up this time.”

“That’s really admirable, Dieter. Everyone makes mistakes but not everyone has the will power to grow from them.”

He chuckles humorlessly, “Yeah. I still hate myself most of the time, though.”

“I can relate to that. I used to have a real problem with self hatred. Mine just manifested in a different way.”

He’s being vulnerable with you, almost a silent permission for you to be vulnerable as well, so you slide up the oversized sleeve of his sweater to show him your left forearm. The colorful, horror themed tattoo that sprawls across your flesh does a good job of covering up what’s underneath at first glance, but if someone is really looking the raised scars beneath the ink are clearly there.

Dieter looks down at it for a long moment before his gaze lifts back up to meet your eyes. He reaches out, hovering fingers just above your skin as he silently waits for you to allow this. You nod, swallowing, and the tips of his index and middle fingers graze lightly over the surface of scar tissue. His touch leaves a tingling sensation in it’s wake. He frowns then, looking into your eyes once more as his hand lightly encircles your wrist. “I don’t like that you used to hurt yourself.”

You reach out, brushing a damp curl from his forehead as you look his face over with a frown of your own. “And I don’t like that you used hurt yourself. Seems like we’ve both dealt with a lot of pain in our lives.”

“Seems like it,” he agrees as a self conscious expression crosses his features. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to get so serious on you. You’re just so easy to talk to and I don’t have a lot of friends. Genuine ones, anyway.”

Smiling, you take his hand and squeeze it once before letting it drop. “It’s okay, really. I’m glad that you feel comfortable being honest with me.”

Dieter leans towards the coffee table, grabbing a joint from the box and placing it between his lips before moving to light it with the red bic lighter. He eyes you with a cheekily grin, waggling his eyebrows about. “You wanna split this?”

“Hell yes,” you agree, grinning as he hands the burning thing over to you.

As you smoke together, Dieter gets everything set up to watch Fright Night while the two of you continue to converse.

“So what was Dieter Bravo like as a young man?” You ask suddenly, eyeing him with a playfully narrowed gaze as you take your two puffs.

His eyes widen comically. “What do you mean?”

“Like, what was your style? What music were you into, what high school click were you a part of?”

“The nerds and the goths and the punks and the theater kids,” Dieter replies immediately, smiling fondly at you. “That character you had such as crush on as a pre-teen? That was pretty much me. I had the jet black hair, the piercings, the black trench coat. My favorite Depeche Mode and The Cure tapes were worn out in my first car. I thought I was a badass motherfucker, going to play practice to rehearse Guys and Dolls dressed like fucking early 90s Dracula.”

You gush, “I adore Dracula so you get points from me. Man, I wish I could have seen you in your young goth days. I bet it was adorable. Also, you were in Guys and Dolls? So was I, in middle school! But I had a super small background role. I was basically just in the chorus.”

He seems shocked by this, “What? How the hell weren’t you the lead?”

“I froze up in my audition just like I always did. I have no idea how you people can act. It’s so nerve wracking. I much prefer the storytelling aspect of the business.”

“Really? You think so? It's always been so natural for me.”

“Oh one hundred percent. I had one good experience in drama class with a monologue that I nailed and that was about it. You, on the other hand, you make it seem like the easiest thing in the world. God, watching you tonight was magical. I truly believed that you were another person up there. What is it you love about acting that makes it seem like a no brainer?”

He seems to mull this over for a moment, “That’s just it. I get to be someone else for a little bit. I’ve never liked myself very much so getting to be another person is so appealing to me. Why I always liked wearing costumes on Halloween. I forget that I’m Dieter and I become whoever it is I’m playing while the camera is rolling or its my queue to be on stage. I don’t worry about what the people watching me are thinking or feeling, because I’m temporarily living the life of another person who’s somewhere else doing something spectacular and those people spectating don’t even exist.”

“Wow, that answer was kind of incredible.”

He shrugs, looking shy again. “Just answering from the heart. That’s not what I would have said in an interview.”

You reach over and stroke his hand. “Well, thanks for talking to me like a real person.”

He pulls your hand to his mouth, kissing your knuckles once. “Thanks for treating me like a real person.”

After the joint is finished Dieter begins the movie. You honestly expect it to last all of twenty minutes, assuming (and hoping) that Dieter will eventually make a move that leads to the two of you making out and missing most of the film. He surprises you yet again, when he shows no interest in carrying on during the viewing. At one point, about a half hour in, Dieter tells you that you’re too far away and motions for you to come lean your body against him. You do, heart racing, and he drapes an arm around your shoulders. But that’s all he ever does.

Dieter Bravo is dead set on watching the movie he invited you over to watch. You aren’t disappointed, though. In fact, you’re thrilled that the movie hadn’t been a tactic to fuck you after all. He genuinely wanted to watch it and he genuinely wanted you to be a part of the experience. It endears him to you that much more.

When the nightclub sequence happens, your favorite part of the film, Dieter dances a little with you while seated. You laugh heartily when he says, “This is way hornier than I remember it being.” But he still doesn't make a move.

After the film’s conclusion, Dieter lights up another jay and checks the time. It’s late. “Would you like to sleep over?” He asks shyly, handing the joint over.

Taking a long drag, you nod your head before speaking through a small cloud with a sleepy little grin. “I’d love to sleep over, Dieter.”

The actor takes a long drag himself, grinning as he seems pleased with this. “You don’t have to sleep in the bed with me if you don’t want to, but you’re more than welcome to join me. Or you can have it and I can just fuck off here on the couch. I want you to feel comfortable here.”

“I’m comfortable here,” you smile warmly, amused by him. He looks so cute when he’s high like this, red eyes squinting as an almost gentle timidness takes over. “Are you trying to act like a gentleman, Dieter?”

“Kinda,” he agrees, eyebrows raising a little as he puffs on the joint twice more. “Part of me wants to be gentlemanly, and part of me wants to be honest and say I really want you in bed with me. That I want take you into that bedroom and show you what you fucking do to me.”

“I mean, I honestly wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

*****

And that’s how you find yourself positioned head down and ass up, hands tied behind your back with a designer neck tie from Dieter’s closet as the man himself fucks you relentlessly from behind. His cock, thick and lovely and torturous, sliding into you unprotected with such force and rhythm that your once tandem movements with his are now erratic and messy. You sound like a wild animal, feral noises escaping you as he presses his thumb against your exposed clit with the lightest amount of pressure.

“Come on, sweetheart," he coos, "I know you can get wetter than this for me.” Then he increases the pressure, and you start to moan deeply against the mattress to this sensation you adore so much. The most private of feelings in the most private of places, a pleasure you've only experienced with a handful of individuals. Somehow, someway, here you are experiencing it with the man you’ve crushed on for nearly two decades of your life.

Your legs begin to tremble as the pleasure budding in your core begins to fire up rapidly. “Oh fuck, D. Feels so fucking good when you touch me there.” You can’t see him (you can’t open your eyes is more like it) but you know he’s grinning down at you like a wild man. He’s sweating, and you imagine that his lovely hair is growing damper by the moment.

“Mm, dirty fucking girl likes her perfect little clit being played with? How’s it feel to have your celebrity crush touch you like this? Fucking that perfect little pussy at the same time? I bet this doesn't even feel real, does it?”

“So-gah-so fucking good,” you repeat the previous phrase, practically purring, and Dieter spanks you once. The right cheek to be exact. You cry out into the sheets bunched up in front of your face, wrists straining against the silky bonds behind your back. Your shoulders and neck are starting to give in a little but you’re also not ready to ask him to stop. This is heaven in every sense of the word.

“Oh, come on. You’re a smart fucking girl, I know you have better vocabulary in that pretty fucking head of yours. Nerdy fucking girl’s read IT three times, after all.” He spanks you again, the left cheek this time. You squeal, feeling the sting and loving every bit of it’s sharp sensation through your backside.

“My nerve endings are on fire,” you start, panting and grunting between words, “it feels like those Fourth of July sparklers are gently burning my skin all over. You now, the ones on long metal sticks that you wave around? Little prickles of heat are assaulting my senses all at once. I can't believe I'm here with you and you're making me feel this good. Fuck, I’m so close to cumming, Dieter, please.”

Dieter pumps into you even harder, slamming into your cervix and causing you to squeal from the combined pain and pleasure of it. Never once does it occur to you to ask him to stop as you whine and writhe with a huge, open mouthed smile plastered to your otherwise contorted face. Dieter begins to coo and soothe you, slowing his thrusts down slightly while removing his thumb. “Good girl. I knew you had something more eloquent to say. Oh, fuck, I can’t last much longer, muñequita.”

“I want to taste it,” your salacious voice pleads, bound hands reaching back for him.

“Fuck. Careful with what you say, you sound so fucking sexy and I can’t take it.” He pulls out of you then, gently guiding your body to lay on your side. Even though he’s been rough with you (at your request), you can tell he’s still displaying a level of responsibility as the one sort of in charge.

“Give it, D, please,” you plead more, mouth dropping open and tongue poking out expectantly when he turns his attention to you once more.

“Dirty fucking girl,” he hisses, his hips bucking as you suckle the tip of his length with a prominent swirl of the tongue. Eventually he’s grabbing your hair with a vulnerable sounding moan, pushing into your mouth as far as he can go while emptying himself down your throat. You eagerly take every bit, adoring how his body relaxes so completely against you. For a moment it seems as if Dieter is trying to savor the feeling of your lips wrapped around him, but then suddenly he’s pulling out and your hands are being untied. “Your turn, mi hermosa muñequita,” he growls, flipping you onto your back as he lays across the bed, positioning his head between your parted thighs.

And so you writhe and squirm and shake, mouth spewing wickedly dirty things as Dieter’s expert tongue works you over. Every touch, every whisper of breath against your flesh is both electrified and amplified. Feeling his mustache tickle your swollen nub, the vibrations of his chuckles when he knowingly backs off at the cusp of your orgasm and you groan in frustration at him. It’s torture in the best possible sense of the word, leaving you feeling like you’re willing to do just about anything in order to spend the rest of your life fucking Dieter Bravo and letting him fuck you.

After awhile he adds a few fingers, filling you up to simultaneously stimulate the internal nerve endings that were feeling neglected within your warmth. The addition of these sensations is enough to finally send you over the edge and this time he allows it to happen, gripping onto your trembling legs as he bares down on your clit with repetitive swirls. Sparks begin to build within your core, soon cresting over the edge as pure hormonal pleasure takes hold of your body in an intense orgasm.

Coming down from the natural high of sex, you’re aware of Dieter climbing to the top of the bed so that he can lay beside you. Little kisses being peppered up your torso until they reach your mouth, deepening only slightly for a moment before the slick lips are gone again. Everything that just happened feels like an insane fever dream for a few moments until his voice brings you back to the present. In the afterglow of the connection you just shared with him, he looks fucking radiant.

“I think you and I should just do this forever. That was too fucking good for this to be a one time thing.” He says, looking you over with a hopeful look in his eye and a lazy little smile on his plump lips.

You giggle, rolling onto your belly as you nudge him with your nose upon his shoulder. “Yeah? Like once a week we get together and bang until we're too old to fuck?”

Chuckling, he grins down at you with a genuine air about him, moving hair from your face while looking into your eyes. “I mean, that sounds like a good arrangement to me. More than once a week is also acceptable.”

“I think you’ve got yourself a bargain,” you laugh, a great yawn escaping your lips afterward. “Mm. Get under the covers with me so we can sleep and then maybe do this again when we get up in the morning.”

“Oh shit a wake and fuck?” Dieter makes a silly face, drawing out the ‘i’ in shit for a few seconds while he makes quick work of getting the blankets pulled up over the both of you.

“A wake and bake and fuck,” you correct him with a little cheeky grin as you wiggle yourself under the warm bed coverings.

Morning comes, and so do the two of you. Once before a shower, once in the shower, twice just after breakfast. You’re not sure your ovaries can take much more of it. You’re certainly going to be walking funny back to Queens, that’s for sure. Breakfast is absolutely amazing. Dieter surprises you by whipping up some crepes from scratch. His ability is impressive, even more so when they turn out to be delicious. Banana, strawberry, Nutella. The man goes all out, even sprinkling on some powdered sugar. The fact that he can cook and likes to cook is such a plus.

You're not sure what's going to happen from here, but you take comfort in the way he acts as if he has to be torn away from you later to head to the theater. The goodbye you share doesn't feel like goodbye forever, and for now that's enough.

*****

It’s Friday morning, just a few days after the night of your life spent with Dieter Bravo. You haven’t messaged him for fear of coming off too needy or creepy, and for reasons unknown he hasn’t messaged you either. It’s disappointing, but the fact that you even slept with him at all is a miracle in it of itself. You’re trying to just count your blessings that it even happened and not feel too terrible about the fact that nothing more has come of it. Propped up in bed with your lap top and a cup of coffee, you’re trying desperately not to think about him as you focus on the task at hand.

Then your phone rings with a FaceTime call. Odd, you haven’t set up a time to talk to your little sister today and she’s the only person who uses FaceTime to call you. Plus, it’s only just after 10 am and you’re currently working on the clerical work you do part time from home, so she knows not to bug you unless its an emergency. Curious, you lean over from your fold out bed-top desk to look at the incoming call and a huge grin spreads across your features. With a fluttering in your stomach, you grab the device and answer.

Dieter Bravo’s face appears on the screen, grinning brightly at you. “Hey, weirdo,” he says, sounding happy as a clam while squinting into the phone. He’s outside somewhere with trees, Central Park you’d imagine, and you can tell that there’s a bit of a glare. But he’s not wearing sunglasses, instead the pair you’ve seen him with before is nestled in his mane of wild brown hair. The gesture comes off as if he purposefully wanted you to see his eyes, even if he can barely open them.

“Hey crush,” you respond, thrilled that he decided to call you first. “What’s up?”

Dieter looks almost bashful for a moment. “Just wanted to see your face. Picture wasn’t good enough, I needed to see that pretty fucking smile of yours in real time. I’ve been wanting to talk to you since the minute you left my place the other day, but I figured it was best to give you space. Didn’t wanna bombard you or make you uncomfortable.”

You smile even more brightly for him. “You know, I’ve been doing the same exact thing. It’s been killing me not to text you but I didn’t want to come off as needy. Is it weird that I miss you? I know it’s been less than two days but I really haven’t stopped thinking about you, D. I miss feeling your presence.”

“Same here, sweetheart. You’ve taken over my fucking brain.”

“When can I see you in person again?”

“There’s a performance tonight… but if you want to you could come over now and just hang out around the house until I get back? You could use your lunch break to get here and then finish working. Plus you’re more than welcome to watch my movies and eat my food.”

“I think I could be persuaded,” you say, smirking as you lay across the bed, holding the phone out as you do so. “Tomorrow’s the weekend and I don’t have any work to do on that indie project yet so I’m free for the next two days. I could cook something for the both of us to have when you get back tonight.”

“You wanna cook for me, muñequita?”

“Yeah,” you admit, “I wanna do something nice for you.”

“Wanting to hang out with my old, dumb ass again is more than enough,” he says, avoiding your gaze. He’s acting so shy. Its driving you wild to see that you have such an effect on a man you’ve lusted after for most of your post-pubescent life. You smile warmly at him, not willing to give in to his obvious trepidation. “Hey, please look at me?”

“M’sorry,” he mumbles, trying to hide the infectious smile pulling at the edges of his gorgeous mouth. The sun must have dipped behind some clouds, because he’s not squinting as harshly anymore. You can see more of his deep brown eyes as they bore into you through the seven inch screen in your hand. “You just do something to me that I’m not quite used to,” he adds, “it can be kinda overwhelming.”

“It’s okay,” you soothe, “you don’t need to be sorry. I just want to see you looking at me while I say this.” Dieter nods, seeming to be genuinely looking at you, so you go on, “I like you. I mean, I really like you. One of my favorite ways of showing affection for people I like is through the act of feeding them delicious food, and I’d love to show you some affection if that’s alright with you, Dieter.”

His face softens considerably, as if what you just said has struck him in some significant kind of way. “That’s alright with me, yeah. I like you too, weirdo. Like, a lot.”

Stomach summersaulting within your abdomen, your face heats up as an uncontrollable little giggle escapes your throat. Your celebrity crush just said he likes you a lot. Christ, this cannot actually be real. There’s simply no way. “Well now that that’s out in the open, my handsome celebrity crush who likes me a lot, I’m going to pack a bag and hop on the train. Are you in Central?”

“Yeah, but I’ll start heading home soon to meet you there. If you want, feel free to pack a bag for more than one night. I don’t have a show on Sunday, we could make a day of it. Maybe go to a museum or something.”

“I’d love that, Dieter. Seriously.” You're absolutely beaming.

“Me too, muñequita. Now go get that thick little ass of yours moving so I can grip it in my hands while I fuck you up against my bedroom wall before work.”

*****

Part 1

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal x you #the bubble #pedro pascal characters #din djarin #pedro pascal character x reader #the bubble 2022

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aespabangedbang · 2 hours ago

Text

Appa's🥴JiminJeong

Please take part in this pole to decide future smut style. (Click on it for poll)

Writer's Note: "A drop of cum still beside her lips, licking the creampie visible around her tongue with an ice cream in hand to mislead the audience otherwise… well the cold of ice cream actually helping to ease the pain of her sore throat from all the deepthroating!" That's the lore behind these 2 cutie nasty pics that Winter uploaded just after coming back from the dating rumor. So for the birthday girl, this is the smut I wrote along corrupting Karina at the end.

Happy New Year and Happy Birthday to Cunty Cutie Winter, Busty Bitch Karina, Hottie Slut Giselle and Little Hoe Ningning alongside all the deranged reader here.

Warning: FULL CON story, Mention of previous NON CON, DILF, Incest, Hardcore, Facefuck, Creampie, Anal, DUB CON, taming, training, rough manhandling, bloody, piss play, vomit, cheating and few other.

Warning: 18+ story, pure smut, don't ask for morality.

Word Count: 5,400 (No proofread)

I had an all-nighter yesterday. My bitching lady boss messed up this month, but it's her employees like me who have to pay for that. So we are overworking to the bone and losing all sleep. Still we are nowhere near finishing this project. Gangbanging her would be a better solution than this. She sure looks tasty as fuck!

Anyway, I have just woken up after only 3 hours of sleep. It's 9 AM in the morning and en route to brew some coffee from my state of the art coffee maker in the kitchen. My step daughter Minjeong is making some cereal for herself, looking as small, cute and precious as always.

“Good morning appa!” Minjeong says sweetly. “You could just ask me, I would brew some coffee for you. You came home so late at night.” Her concerned soft expression made me feel a little warmer, she really cares about her family members. She is looking at me like a puppy for an answer.

“It's ok Minjeong, a big mug of coffee and I’ll be good.” I assure her, pat her head and go to the coffee maker. “Where is your mom?” I ask her. “Aha, mom went to see her friends. They have a get together today.” “I see, she is having a good time.” Fuck it, here I am working nonstop and she is having parties. I could use a good fuck now.

My wife is 15 years older than me. She had Minjeong very early in her 17's and raised her as a single mom until we got married a year ago. Her mom is such a hot bitch and rich that I got hooked after a few nights together. She is 40, I am 25, Minjeong 23 so it's kinda awkward between us as dad and daughter. We are more like friends than having a paternal relationship.

I take a jar of coffee bean and about to grind it, suddenly Minjeong asks, “You must be feeling lonely appa. If you wish I can accompany you... Just like umma!” She whispers the last few words, but it's enough to send shivers down my spine. I turn my head toward her and unknowingly my hands shake a little.

Minjeong has lifted her striped t-shirt above her chest, giving me a view of her small but perky and pointy boobs covered by black cotton lingerie. Her other hand has pulled down one side of her shorts, showing me her camel toe hiding behind her black cotton panty. But it's her slim yet toned tummy that always makes me feel weak.

She has the most delicious looking abs ever. She may not have big boobs like her mommy or big ass like my boss, but she still has that slender yet toned abs and perfect vertical belly button that can make any man droll. All the pilat she does daily really made her into such a tease.

I take a deep breath. I am already too much on edge, got a truck load of work and I really don't want to cheat on my wife with her own daughter. “Ha ha ha is how they joke nowadays. Good grief, thanks for lifting my mood ha ha ha…..” I awkwardly answer back. I feel shiver again as I stiffly turn my head.

I start grinding my coffee ignoring Minjeong who is standing there with a wanton pouty expression. Must be her raging hormones, just like me. But I am not touching her, she is now my daughter. No way, abstain abstain abst…..

Someone’s long finger and thin arms embrace me from behind, someone's little squishy boobs and pointy nipples press on my back, someone's hot breaths send shivers down; It's Minjeong who hugged me tightly from behind. “I want you appa… inside me!” She whispers like a siren.

Fuck it Minjeong. Why is she making it so difficult? I try to act cool and say, “S-Sure Minjeong, I may spend the day with you INSIDE your room. I-I’ll bring my laptop there after I make cof....” Someone's hands grab my bulge over my pajama, both hands start stroking it. “Damn it Minjeong, what the fuck!” I lost my cool at last.

“Appa, it's you who used me first.” She pulls my assets out. One hand stroking my cock, the other clawing my balls. “That day you forced me down and used me for your pleasure, then why are you rejecting me now?” Her voice is full of lust. “Use me again appa!” She starts grinding her little boobs against my back now, her hands getting faster and tighter. It's making me insanely horny, abstain abst……

It was three months after my marriage. My wife was on a business trip. Minjeong was doing some yoga wearing tights. Her tight nipples were poking through her sports bra, her pussy lips were bulging out everytime she was spreading her legs. The low waist of her leggings showed the entirety of her toned sweaty abs, making her just irresistible. I couldn't take the bitchy appearance of her anymore, my penis got completely erected to fuck her.

“P-please go to your room Minjeong and do Yoga there. Let me watch TV in peace.” I warned, but she didn't listen. “I am not obstructing you, I am not even making any noise!” She scoofs me off. Back then she didn't respect me much because of our little age difference. On top of that it's her mom’s house, so she always looked down on me. My raging anger sparked my hardly contained fuel of lust and I lost all control.

I turned on the loudspeaker and cranked it high. Then I abused her body like a cheap sex doll right there, right then. She bleeded from the start, hinting I took her virginity. Tearing her legging apart I claimed my step daughter's holes as mine. She screamed, she cried, she protested, she begged, she tried to fight back. In response I beat her up, humiliated her, kissed her like a maniac and pumped her full of my cum repeatedly for an hour until she submitted to call me appa with respect. At the end I pissed on her totally broken body as a final act of humiliation.

Since then she never acted up, always called me appa like a little obideant girl and wore dresses that won't arouse me to fuck her up. Especially hiding her tummy from me. I decided not to abuse her in future, I love my wife and fucking her daughter is wrong for an appa. She is my daughter too now, that was just an impulsive accident and mostly Minjeong’s fault for wearing a seductive dress, being such a rapebait.

I yank her hands of my goodies and turn back, I need to take control of this situation. “L-LOOK MINJEONG, WAIT A SEC!” I end up shouting, but lower my voice immediately, “That was an accident. I was just out of my mind and you were being too seductive with your poses and dresses and all….. I am sorry, ok?” I forgot my dick is still out and now poking her delicious abs.

I try to pull my pants hurriedly but she grabs my fully erected 7 inch cock strongly with both of her hands and starts stroking my length properly face to face. Damn, she’ll make me cum at this rate. I try to reason with her. “LET'S not do it, we are father and daughter. Step, but still I won't fuck you ever again. LET'S STOP!” I grab her shoulder instead of her busy hands, deep down I am enjoying every stroke from her.

“Then throw me back appa, you were so dominant when you forced me. I cried, I bleeded, I begged but your cock didn't stop thrusting in me. I was in pain but you didn't listen a bit. Your hand didn't lose its choke on my neck either.” She grabs one of my hands and puts it around her neck, her hands clenching my balls painfully. “Little me is your plaything appa, throw me back if you don't want to use me again. Not like I can stop you!” She leans close to my chest, her needy face upward almost like wants to kiss me.

I can't answer her back, I can't throw her back either. Honestly I wouldn't mind fucking her like a bitch every single day, her body is even tastier than her mom. She is more beautiful than her mom. Her age makes her a better partner for me than her mom. Fuck, she would even make a better wife than her bitching mom whom I first fucked in a night club. So despite knowing it's wrong, despite knowing I shouldn't fuck her again, I can't simply bring myself together to throw her back.

She looks at me with her bewitching puppy eyes, her head tilted with a smirk, “I know you can't throw me back appa. You are such a fucking monster!” She goes onto her knee, my disgustingly long penis close to her mouth. “Let your daughter take your stress away appa. Abuse me again like a sex doll. I have been such a bad girl!” She kisses the tip of my cock, uses it like lipstick to smear my juice on her lips teasing me further.

Seeing her small face beside my comparably huge cock makes me lose all control. In my last effort I try to scare her off, “I’LL TELL YOUR MOM MINJEONG! STOP PLEASE STO…..” She takes my cock in, well only half of it. Her hands are busy stroking the other half and messaging my balls. “DAMN FUCK IT MINJEONG!” I stand like a statue, my hands above my head and I am unable to do anything as my daughter is giving me face.

Sloppy but with effort she is sucking me off. Everytime she takes me in, she tries to go deeper than before. Her deepthroating makes me feel so good that if I knew she could give such a good head, I would keep forcing her every single day. Fuck it, she is not my real daughter and we are similar age. Fuck it all, I am gonna use her like the way she mean. Like the way I should have used her everyday.

Father's hands are blessings for daughter but my cursed hands grab her short bob hair tightly, I buck my hip back and leave only the tip, then push hard to make her gag hitting the back of her throat. “OK YOU FUCKING BITCH, APPA WILL GIVE YOU WHAT YOU WANT!” Now I am face fucking her with such lust that rival the day I forced her. She is trying to fight her gag reflex to take me in but there is only so far I can go in this position.

I pull my cock out her mouth and start choking her with both hands, using her neck as a handle as I start dragging her to the living room. She is still on the ground, between my legs getting dragged on her ass on the floor like a sex doll getting roughly manhandled. Just like what she wanted. I let go of her throat and grab her pussy tightly to lift her light body up. I throw her on the sofa and quickly turn her upside down, her head dangling at the edge of the seat. Her back bented against the backrest, her pussy facing the ceiling.

I pull up her shorts and panties in one go, her wet glistening brown pussy got plump from arousal. That's not my attraction now. I shove my cock in her mouth again, her dangling head aligned her mouth and food pipe in perfect straight line. “You wanted to get face fucked so badly, RIGHT YOU CHEAP WHORE? SO BE IT!” I grab her heels strongly and spread them apart. Her delicious wet peach winking at me, it's been a year since I have seen her pink asset. I push my cock and it slides in completely.

Having no restriction my cock goes all the way in reaching her food pipe. Her body shakes from the intense pressure, pain and gag reflex. But I don't care about her safety. I am only bringing my cock halfway outside, making sure my cock always stays deep in her cheap throat. That's it. I am now fucking her face, deepthroating her foodpipe while she keep choking and gagging around my meat. My cock visibly bulging her thirsty throat with the appa meat she was craving for.

HUGHH PUFF AGGH PUFF ARGHH PUFF ARGH PUFF HUGH PUFF AGH

The tormented plea of Minjeong’s mouthpussy along air escaping her food pipe with every pump fueling my lust, making my morning wood harder. Minjeong’s pussy is now breathing, clenching air with every painful thrust, inviting me to breed her daughter hole once again. I let go of one of her legs, it fell limp. I start rubbing her wet pussy, making her back arch in pleasure.

“Enjoying too much? You bitch, let's see how you can keep enjoying it!” I start slapping her pussy loudly, her body reflexively jerking with every hit. I keep slapping until her pussy becomes full red, her clit has erected to the point of a little horn sticking out. I pinch it with the intention of tearing it apart, immediately her back arch and she starts convulsing. A second later my masochist daughter starts squirting, her hips bucking with unison. I don't stop face fucking while she keep fighting her climax, getting herself drenched in her own juice.

Her hands are pushing me to get my cock out her mouth, her face has flushed full red now. But like that's an option. “WHAT? Does Appa's lollipop don't taste sweet anymore? Die if you have to Minjeong, but keep sucking appa until I am satisfied.” I declare my utmost authority over her and keep using my daughter as a fleshlight, restlessly. My hip aching, Minjeong squirming her body and trying to pull out her head twisting it. No, I won't let my fuck doll escape from me.

I let go of her other ankle and grab her necks with both of my hands. Pull my cock out all the way leaving only the tip in and thrust back in her food pipe as fast and as hard as I can. My hands can feel my cock inside her neck, stretching her gullet with each thrust. I wanted to take a piss after my coffee but this bitch took my pee pee in her mouth before that. So be it, then be my urinal too. “HERE COMES APPA’S HONEY DOWN YOUR GULLET MINJEONG!” And I start pissing straight in her food pipe burying my cock as deep as I can, making sure all of my smelly golden piss fills her tummy.

Minjeong’s face contorted from the burning heat and stinky smell of my yellow morning thick juice. That's the right kind of fluid a bitch like her deserves. After emptying my bladder inside her, I give a few more deep satisfying thrust and pull out. “ARRRG ARGH AHGHH AHHH HURK HAKK HURGGH...” Poor Minjeong, even before she catches her breath and stops retching, piss and half a bowl of cereal start gushing out her filthy mouth. Most of it spurt on the tiles, rest start dripping down her now ruined face.

“YOU ARE SO GROSS MINJEONG!” I mock her as if it's her fault. “Why are you pissing from your mouth? Did appa’s thrust morphed your mouth into an actual pussy? kekeke silly girl!” I give her face some encouraging slap and help her to sit back. “Are you happy being appa’s property, Minjeong?” I squeeze her hair tightly and force her to look at me. Her face is drenching with my piss and cereal, snots dripping from her nose. She somehow say collecting her breath, “Y-you are still a monster appa… I think that's what I love about you!” A masochistic smile shines on her filthy face, that's otherwise always cute.

“You are something else my daughter. You should have told appa how you feel about me, about us” I give her a nasty smirk while my hand targets her face with my gun of a cock and starts fapping, getting pretty close. “I was afraid until I couldn't take it anymore. Use me more from now on appa!” Her lustful plea and filthy face pushes me at the edge at last and I let go. Ropes and ropes of my daddy's milk paint the face of my cute step girl Minjeong, who has submitted herself to be my new woman.

She opens her abused mouth to taste appa's milk. After cumming probably the biggest load I have ever cummed, her face and t-shirt is all sprayed with my batter. Fuck her mom or my boss, as long as I got my good gal I won't need any more bitch. “You clean up Minjeong. Appa coming back to take care of you after I get my coffee.” I slap her face with my cock and go back to make my coffee…

Aha, I was feeling so hazy without my coffee. Man, feeling good after I have a power boost caffeine. Let's get back to work and my toy Minjeong. I look back, and see Minjeong has wiped most of the appa juices from her face except a drop of cum beside her lips. Also didn't gulp the cum that went into her mouth, visible around her tongue. She is taking selcas of her cummed face with an ice cream on her hand. Acting like the cum is ice cream and not her appa’s cream.

“What are you doing baby? Don't tell me you will upload it online!” I am kinda surprised by her boldness. “Already done appa, my friends and followers are liking it on insta hi hi hi hi…” She gives me her warmest smile as if I didn't defile her a moment ago. “You are so nasty Minjeong, I love that about you.” “Make me your woman appa, I am better than my mom. I’ll make you the happiest ever!” Look at her drooling. “What about your mom?” I ask playfully. “You know better than anyone that she is getting pounded senseless somewhere atm!”

That's true. She loves to fuck and get fucked. That's how we found each other. So she definitely won't be lonely without me inside her holes. “Ok Minjeong. But you have to do everything on my whim as my woman. No going back.” I am setting the boundary to let her know who is the dom and sub in our taboo relationship. “Ok appa, I’ll be your obedient little puppy!” “You are really your mom's daughter, you fucking bitch!” I grab her neck again, lift her up and start walking to our room. I have a mountain of work to complete and daughter holes that I need to dig! It's gonna be a long and busy day…

DING DONG DING DONG DING DONG

Our “Father Daughter Whole Day Coupling” project gets interrupted by someone’s unexpected continuous bell. I was pounding Minjeong's ass, locking both of her hands behind, in the pleasant doggystyle on our marital bed. Her cunt already sopping with our combined juice and her ass, after bleeding a little, is now gapped enough to take me in easily. Her mother isn't coming back today. So who the fuck is here to disturb my wholesome day?

With a disgusted expression I check the door cam and see another appetizing daughter at my door. It's Minjeong’s best friend Jimin Yu, the youngest daughter of Yu family. She comes often to hang out with my baby girl. She got a body that was meant for nothing but fucking. Petite perfectly proportioned figure, 34D cup sized boobs that look massive clinging to her little frame, tight curves in all the right places and a face that's even more beautiful than Minjeong… She is the perfect hoe, the aphrodite in flesh!

If I put it like that, then I actually wish she was my step daughter and not Minjeong. Then I could fuck her like I am fucking Minjeong atm… Wait a sec, ain't my daughter's friend is also my daughter. Technically daughter like right? So, if I can have Minjeong, then why can't I have Jimin as my fuck doll too? That's the right thing to do, right? I think, completely oblivious to the fact of all the illogical points. Working like a machine, completely drowning in lust, fucking like rabbits and relying on caffeine solely makes your reasoning like this.

So I devised my master plan of adopting another daughter, sexually. I dress Minjeong up as fast as I can, wiping her pussy and asshole licking and kissing and biting… You get the gist. She opens the door for Jimin and brings her inside. Trying to act as normal as she can but sooner witty Jiminie figures out something is wrong with the place. While I did wipe the piss on our kitchen before, it was still unorganized from our morning playtime and all. Minjeong herself was all flushed and hot from the hours long intercourse so she makes up saying she has got a fever.

Jimin, being the ever compassionate and reliable friend she is, decides to stay with us full day to take care of Minjeong. Fuck, She just spoiled my full day of guilty pleasure so it's another reason that she have to pay back with her body and holes. Jimin feeds Minjeong cooking herself and tucked her on the bed for rest. Exhausted Minjeong falls asleep soon enough. Now is my chance.

I offer Jimin some fine wine for her trouble. She accepts, has no reason to say no. After a few shots she gets flushed and a little drunk. “Minjeong actually lied to you. She doesn't have a fever.” I tell her the truth. “Hmm, what? But she is definitely feverish and flushed!” Jimin looks at me with puzzled eyes, Minjeong never lies to her about serious things. “Yes she lied. We were actually fucking like rabbits whole day. I roughly deepthroated her, creampie bred her pussy and sodomized her ass bloody before you arrived. That's why she was so hot and flushed the whole day. It's just you ruined our plan of having sex for whole day.”

I nonchalantly declassify our taboo relationship to Jimin before taking a long sip. Jimin’s eyes blinking, confused and taking time to process the gravity of this info. After a few moments she gulps and says somehow, “N-Nice joke uncle… Your straight face almost made it sound real. Is this a new way of teasing?” She tries to be cool and smart, to her it's still an impossible idea. “Why? Do you think it's not real? Don't forget I am her step dad and she gave me full consent.” I have finished my glass of wine.

“No n-no, NO WAY!” Jimin’s eyes go wide, she covers her mouth in disbelief. I stand up and let her see the huge bulge in my pants pointing at her pretty face. I take a step at her. Jimin picks her phone up, trying to call for help. Her hands are shaking. I snatched the phone from her, “Be a good girl and don't tell anyone.” Jimin’s face is full of fear. “O-ok u-uncle. I-I won't.” She springs up, tries to go outside. I block her path, “It's already 8pm, stay the night with Minjeong. She will need care,” I order her. She quickly runs to Minjeong’s room and tries to wake her up.

“MINJEONGIE, WAKE UP, WAKE UP DAMN!” My daughter wakes up but before Jimin finishes her plea to Minjeong to save her, I butt in and say, “Minjeong your bestie Jimin will give me your share of pleasure that she spoiled.” Jimin turns her head with fearful eyes, almost tearing. “Besties share each other’s burden, so Jimin have no problem fucking me.” I decide it for her as it's the right thing to do. “And start calling me appa from now on Jimin.” I have come out of the shadow in the room and my naked erected penis is threatening Jimin’s safety.

“STAY AWAY! MINJEONGIE! Your appa trying to sexually violate me!” Jimin shakes Minjeong like a ragdoll, desperate to have her support. “Ok appa. Just don't break her into two pieces.” Minjeong, my new sex toy, gives me permission to use her bestie. “WHAT?” Jimin gets angry. “WHAT ARE YOU SAYING MINJEONG? YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! THAT'S NOT EVEN YOUR BF, THAT'S YOUR APPA!” Her desperation is really amusing. “So you wouldn't mind fucking her boyfriend? Naughty girl, come to appa then!”

My hands reach for her, she hugs herself in a futile attempt to hide her ample boobs. Minjeong has sit up behind Jimin and before her friend can react she pulls Jimin’s hands over her head and pins her down on the bed. Jimin's boobs are bouncing around as she is struggling to break free, legs kicking to keep me away, trying to twist her body to break free. I carefully grab her ankles and get past them, her legs around my waist now. “P-PLSASE DON'T DO THIS TO ME MINJEONG!” She try to convince Minjeong for last time.

“I am appa’s woman now Jimin. If appa wants you, I’ll give him my bestie.” Minjeong says with passion. “I W-WON'T GIVE CONSENT, THIS IS RA…” Jimin tries to finish but my gal cuts her, “It's called enlightenment! My appa’s monstrous side has woken up the true me. His cock will wake you up too. Just endure it bestie!” “NO NOO NOOOO!” Jimin shakes her head and throws her hip in the air to break free. I tear both her crop top and bra in one go, her milky white big saggy udders bouncing and shaking side to side.

“DON'T YOU DARE YOU FUCKING MONSTER, YOU INHUMAN DERANGED BASTARD!” Jimin yells at me, her sexy bouncing boobs make those curses too appealing. I grab her legging and panties and tear both apart in one go. Her milky white crotch, nicely shaved cunt, perfect shaped brown labia and glistening pink pussy hole watering my mouth. I pull my boy out my short again, my fully erected thick and longer than average rod in front her eyes blow up any hope of rescue.

“PLEASE I BEG YOU, I won't tell anyone about your taboo. I won't stop being your friend either Minjeong. PLEASE, LET ME GO! You don't have to do this!” With tear streaming from her eyes Karina begs, poor girl. I start rubbing my cock on her pussy lips, sending shivers down her spine before setting my cock at her entrance. “It is not about you finding out about us Jimin. It's about me adopting a new sexual daughter. I WANT YOU GIRLS, BOTH OF YOU! You are too fuckable to give away!” I grin cheek to cheek, then shove my cock all the way in!

“ANGH NNGH AHHH AHH ARGH AHHN FUCK…” Jimin starts crying out loud from the sudden invasion in her pussy, my cock has reached all the way in hitting her uterus. I shove her panty, tops and bra in her mouth as a makeshift gag and start pounding from the get go. Her muffled scream is the melody in my ears. She is not bleeding, meaning unlike Minjeong was, she isn't a virgin. “Look at you hoe, already fucking around everywhere you go huh?” I slap her saggy bouncing udders with some tight sharp slaps, leaving my red handprints on her pristine skin. With every thrust, her lewd moaning sound and muffled scream echoing in the room.

I am kneading and playing with her big boobs and tight nipples with one hand while my other hand is busy fingering her erect clit. After 10 min of nonstop ball deep thrusting and molesting her sexual assets, I cum an average load into her pussy. Aha, my semen getting thinner as I am fucking whole day. But still enough to knock her up. I pull out, some cum starts leaking out her creampied pussy. Minjeong lets Jimin’s hand go and she lies on the bed with a hopeless, convulsing body and devastated expression. She cummed twice since I started to fuck her. Minjeong’s nonstop dirty talk made everything more arousing, for both of us.

Jimin tries to sit up after a while later but I flip her over on her tummy. “You had enough, p-please let me go!” Jimin begs me again. “Call him appa Jimin,” Minjeong hisses close to her ear, “Appa just started. Your ass and mouth coming next. The same way appa fucked all my holes. You are appa’s new woman, just like he made me his!” Jimin’s sweating weak body can't resist much as Minjeong pushes Jimin’s head on her pussy, grinding herself against her face. I align my cock on her asshole and start pushing as hard as I can.

With a little struggle my bulbous head eventually gets past her sphincter. “ARGGGH YOU ARE, YOU ARE BREAKING ME S-STOP!” She is still such a feisty one. “You will love it soon Jimin. Look at your bestie Minjeong, she was like you once. Now she is head over heels for my cock. Enjoy it, for your sake!” I start giving short thrusts, going a little inch inside her hole everytime. Jimin start shrieking in agonizing pain, but Minjeong presses her head on the mattress to muffle her.

It's a little over 9PM. I didn't get much sleep but I think I can still continue a little longer. Minjeong and Jimin have a long night and day ahead of them!

Epilogue:

I had a good night's sleep at last. Well it can't be helped when I literally passed out fucking two of my beautiful daughters, on top of my week long fatigue. Nothing better than sipping my homebrew coffee at the afternoon, after oversleeping and over fucking. Jimin passed out on the floor, I fucked her senseless after I woke up.

Vomit and piss making their way out of her mouthpussy, forced her to drink my morning golden smelly piss like I made Minjeong drink yesterday. I doubled down on her tiny hoe holes using my wife's favorite fat dildo along my cock. So she eventually broke down. My cum pooling under her pussy on the floor. Pee leaking her bladder, her pelvic muscles have given up. She has started to call me appa whenever I ramp up my thrusts, still need some works to make it permanent. Her resistance vanishing in the face of overwhelming pleasure.

And Minjeong? She is being appa’s good bitch and cock warming me after Jimin. Her light figure is bouncing on my cock, riding me like her life depends on it. I am just relaxing back leaning on my sofa, sipping my favorite coffee. Aha, now I have enough motivation to work even harder. I slap Minjeong's booty hard with a loud smack. “Arghh appa, harder harder punish your bad girl!” And so I start drumming her booty with the rhythm of her riding. We three definitely got a wet fucking future ahead.

The End up the birthday hoe's holes! 🖕

#aespa smut #kpop girl group smut #kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #smut #karina smut #aespa × reader #winter smut #aespa karina #aespa winter

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redvexillum · 2 days ago

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Your message hit me right in the heart 🫂😭💖

First off, congratulations on such an incredible year of growth, creativity, and rediscovery. 🌸

Second, it's incredibly heartbreaking to see that you have been recieving such awful hate messages everyday.

I want to first celebrate AND congratulate you for the sheer volume of what you’ve created—over half a million words in just a year—is mind-blowing! But more than that, the way you’ve embraced challenges and explored writing outside of your comfort zone speaks to the strength of your passion and dedication. I hope you know how much your hard work, creativity, and vulnerability mean to those around you.

Taking a break is so wise, and I’m so glad you’re giving yourself the time to recharge. You’ve given so much, and now it’s your turn to rest and take care of you. Rot on that couch, binge those shows, and indulge in all the self-care you need. You’ve earned every single moment of it. 🫂🥰💖

NOW. MOVING ON TO THOSE DESPICABLE HATE MESSAGES.

You’ve shown incredible courage, not only in facing the hate but in choosing not to let it define you or your space. Sharing this, even once, is a powerful reminder to everyone in the community that they are not alone and that there is a way to stand tall without giving in to negativity.

It’s heartbreaking to hear that some of this hate may have come from people you once considered friends, but your ability to rise above that betrayal and focus on what truly matters—your art, your supporters, and the love within the fandom—is nothing short of inspiring.

Your rule about not giving hate power is one we should all strive to follow because you’re absolutely right: their words only hold as much weight as we allow them to. By choosing to create and to support others, you’re stripping away the power they desperately seek.

The reminder to lean on friends and fellow creators is so important. This fandom—and every creative community—is better and brighter when we uplift one another. It’s not easy to admit when we’re struggling, trust me, I know this very well. Your vulnerability here is such a powerful reminder to those who may feel isolated, reminding them that support is out there, that they are seen, and that they matter.

As this new year approaches, may you and every creator out there continue to thrive, not just in spite of the hate, but because of the love, passion, and talent that make this community so special.

Shine on—you’ve got me and the entire community rooting for you. 💖

Love, RedVexi

First off, as the year comes to a close, I want to say a few words of thanks. You see, I came back to fanom this year, not knowing my place or if I could find a place for me again.

Instead, one thing lead to another and I found a new fandom. One that, for all of it's toxic reputation- one very well earned thanks to a vocal subset within the fandom- has been ever so welcoming to me.

It has been that welcoming nature that has driven me to write over half a million words in the last twelve months. It is the eager interaction with artists and writers that the Hazbin Hotel fandom carries at its very core that makes it so much more than the negative reputation it has amassed.

It is the passion and drive of the fandom that has encouraged and rewarded me to write things I'm uncomfortable with, to write things I don't personally like or understand. It has driven me to challenge myself and broaden my writing horizons.

With that, I will be taking a short break. Just a few days where I'll be prioritizing myself, rotting on the couch, watching tv and resting. While I have enjoyed the countless challenges that Kinktomber and Smutmas provided me with but the reality is writing what amounts to a fic every other day while running a long series and having people waiting on another long series- it isn't sustainable.

So I'm going to take a few days, rest and I will be back with healthier writing habits. Just in time to drop the New Year's Kisses

While I have nothing but love for the Hazbin Hotel Fandom, there is something I would like to address. Below is a fraction of the asks I have gotten this last week. I get these types of messages a few times or so a week, nearly every week.

Why am I showing you this?

You see, I've said often for the last year that I get hate. It's a terrible side of the Hazbin community and while I suspect I know who sent at least one of these messages, and others that I have not shared. Some of it is, I believe, targeted harassment from people I once counted as friends or in the case of others, was on a friendly basis with.

That being said, in sharing these, I am breaking my own rule. You see, as a personal rule, I do not respond directly to anon hate. I do not discuss it in detail, I rarely even share it in screenshots with my friends.

There's a reason why I have this rule. You see, in sharing of anon hate, you give it life. You fan the flames. Your friends and your readers are called to defend you. It creates a storm of attention for the senders who observe from the sidelines.

The reality is- we as a fandom decide what is acceptable within it. We do not have to accept this toxic behavior. We do not have to share it. We do not have to give it life.

An abuser thrives off the power they have over you. They thrive off your reactions. They thrive of your pain. They thrive off knowing they can control the fandom, who is posting in it and what.

Personally- I do not give them that power in my space. Honestly, I recommend you don't either.

Their words mean nothing. Their hate? Worthless. At the end of the day, they're trying to crush you because they see something in you that they wish they had.

I see writers and artists leaving this fandom left and right in response to hate so here I am, airing my own dirty laundry to show that these disgusting little mites within the fandom- they're coming after more than just you. They're coming after more than just the ones sharing the hate.

If you're getting messages like these, reach out to your friends and fellow creators within your network. Lean on each other. You don't have to give it air and you also don't have to suffer in silence.

I am blessed to not have to suffer in silence. I've got @redvexillum and @nyx-umbrakinesis and many others who stand beside me, who stop me from feeling like I'm drowning in hate and burning this whole thing down. Because of their support, I don't need to respond to the hate directly.

But for you- my fellow writers and artists, I'm sharing it this one time as a reminder that you are not alone.

So may your new year's resolution be to stay, to continue creating and to continue being something they are jealous of.

May you shine bright in this upcoming year, Mama Kit

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carcarrot · 6 months ago

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this time last year i was probably sitting in the kitchen while my dad started making an early dinner of chicken bolognese trying not to get too nervous about the concert i'd be going to in a few hours

#the nyc concert was last year. LAST YEAR .#thats so insane like yeah that feels like a year ago but good god the insane amount of stuff that has happened since #but god i remember that day so well #it was cloudy and a little rainy in the morning which made me ough thinking it was a bad omen and wouldnt be as fun #and i remember going to library and printing out my silly letters (i should have just. not done that lol)#and on the DAY OF on the way back home from the library #i even bought a cropped black blazer specifically for my concert outfit. havent worn it since lmao #and my dad and i even watched a movie at lunch #a short movie but a movie nonetheless. lol and even then i was like oghh my gosh excitement and nervousness #and then the car service getting there i felt so fancy and as the drive started the clouds were magically dissipating #so that it was a nice clear evening when i got to the theatre #and then all the insanity of the show. god i cant believe it still after all this time. wowie #going to listen to a playlist of the show setlist im gonna get emotional now. guys........#one of my fave memories is how everyone started standing up as they went into so may we start so i was like ok are we all doing this #and stood up too and then stood for the entire rest of the concert. i think the first 3-5 rows were like that for the whole show #surreal and insane i was front row. those guys were REAL and CLOSE #i was also very excited to notice russells new shoes :) when i wasnt like awooga (how i was 99% of the time)#there was one so may we start jump that was well. yeah. front row baby #i think after latte i was like ok i cant film i gotta just vibe #religious experience doing the 'ah ah ah's during that. really interesting #ok im not gonna go through the whole show again but wowie one of my most insane nights. second only to hollywood bowl #wow what a fun year it was. just so many incredible moments #ok yay 💖 happy one year to all that. love those guys so much #spars #ok not actually done beaver o lindy was INSANE LIVE!!! AS WAS EVERYTHING ELSE. so fun ok now done for real

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waywardstation · 2 years ago

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WAIT WAIT HUH?? INGO AND EMMET ARE APPEARING IN AN UPCOMING EPISODE?!? WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN

YES YES it's only a short cameo, but they're there!! You can see the clip with captions here!

Spoilers on context for the clip if anyone really cares to avoid it:

A hatterene causes Cilan to hallucinate, and he sees Ingo and Emmet (of course!!) giving out bento boxes. He follows after the hallucination when they move away from him, going deeper into the forest.

#wayward's asks #SOOOO HAPPY TO SEE THEM #They may be there for only a very short time BUT THEY SHOW SO MUCH ENERGY IN THOSE SHORT SECONDS #THE POSES #I LOVE IT

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fragmentedblade · 7 months ago

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#I can't stop thinking about the parallels between Eden and Kalpas #Was it done on purpose? At times it doesn't feel like it #At times it feels more that instead of very conscious and intently weitten like that it was more a coincidence #derivative from the recurring themes and parallels in ideas roles character and situations that thread all the Flame Chasers together #and make of them a cohesive whole #But wow the parallels bwtween Eden and Kalpas specifically are so good #I've been thinking about them for days sometimes quite intensely #I haven't even reached that part of the story yet and still here I am #At this point the actual development of the story and the writing of these details is bound to disappoint me #It shines so beautifully in my mind and with such a particular glow #Like one of those cups or calices made our of seashells #I talk too much #I can't believe an idol and an alien are all I've been thinking of for hours now #Normally alien and idol are tropes I couldn't care less for #Yet somehow I'm invested #And somehow I am very invested in this lame ass man #I can't believe I initially disliked and found kind of disgusting then got very fond of a man with white hair with black details #and something over his face that has a lot of anger issues but is sort of very gentle in his way‚#fact that shows not only in his behaviour but even his preferences and hobbies #but nonetheless he is quite shy and detached from people with a few exceptions‚ a pink haired woman his closest most trusted person #and sort of friend but not quite but also deeper than that at the same time #And this has happened twice #I can't see Guzm.a without seeing Kalpas now and the other way round #They both sit the same way‚ wear short sleeved jackets over a t-shirt with a wide neckline‚ both are obsessed with destruction #and breaking things and the sound they make while doing that‚ both screan rude things all the time‚#both find pretty much everyone stupid and annoying both share a feeling of alienation and unbelonging #Both take care of a bunch of kids in a way #Guz.ma's ending in the manga may be my favourite writing in the whole history of Pokemo.n‚ and N exists!#Otto/Kalpas situation tbh I can't stand myself #Get a grip look at that very well written character with all the traits and thematic you most enjoy. What are you doing with this guy

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loonylupinblack3 · 8 months ago

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Cold

Pairing: Logan Howlett x reader

Warnings: slightly suggestive content

Summary: it's cold and you decide to go exploring for a heated blanket. you find logan instead.

Word Count: 1.5k

It was cold.

You were fucking freezing, shivering even under your piles of blankets. It was this stupid house, giant though it was, with shit heating. So when one of the kids fucked up and damaged the already extremely fragile heating, it broke. In the middle of winter.

You groaned, curling even further in on yourself, trying to keep any heat you’d formulated from escaping. Stupid house. Stupid cold. Stupid useless blankets. You wracked your brain for anything else you could get to find you some more warmth because you could not go on like this. You were jealous of all the mutants in the house with fire or heat mutations, or those with partners to sleep with, comfortable in each other's warmth.

You sat up when you remembered it. The electric blanket Storm had gotten as a gift a few years back lay discarded in one of the shelves in the kitchen, hidden in a box unopened. If you could get that, connect it to the outlet next to your bed, well…. You’d actually be able to sleep tonight.

It took you a while to actually build up the courage to leave your bed and your warmth, however slim it may be. When you did you were assaulted with the cold, more than twice as bad without your blankets. Not to say you weren’t already layered, with your winter pyjamas and hoodie, but still. It was cold.

You travelled down the long hallways and through the massive house, trying to get to the kitchen as quickly as possible. The torch in your hand shook slightly from your shivers, but you promised yourself it would all be worth it when you went back to your room with the toasty heated blanket.

You’d told yourself you’d be in and out, with the electric blanket in your room in no time, yet you stopped short when you saw the light on in the kitchen, and Logan leaning against the counter with a beer in his hand.

Your heart gave a lurch, which immediately gave you away, Logan’s eyes darting to you. You gave a nervous smile, sort of just… standing there. You’d had a minor crush on Logan for a while now, very low key. No one even knew about it; it was so minor. Just…. The playful banter you two had, and his looks, they appealed to you. Still, it was minor, and usually you were much more composed around him, but you were tired and cold and your defences were down.

“Logan,” you said, stepping forwards. “What are you doing here?”

Logan watched you intently, eyes roving your body as he sipped his beer. “Couldn’t sleep. What about you Darl?”

You tried not to smile at the nickname, rubbing your arms in an attempt to create more warmth. “I was cold.”

Logan raised his eyebrows. “So you came looking for company?”

Heat rushed to your face at the suggestion, as did Logan’s intent gaze as if he was eager to fill the role. You cleared your throat. “No, um, there’s a heated blanket in one of the cupboards.”

Again Logan raised his eyebrows with an amused expression. “Is there now?”

You felt a smile stretch on your face, even though you fought it. You rolled your eyes at him. “Yes, there is.”

He placed his beer on the counter and moved forwards. “Well now you’ve got to show me this blanket, because otherwise I’ll be believing you came here for me.”

The flirty tone in his voice made you flush even more, but you kept your cool, observing him with a calm expression, only a hint of a smile on your face now. “Alright then.”

You walked to the cupboard on the left, rummaging through it. Your memory was a little fuzzy but you were sure Storm had put it in here. Logan watched you with a smirk, beer forgotten as he leant against the counter.

You shot him a glare. “Aren’t you cold?”

In nothing but a t-shirt and jeans, you’d be shivering uncontrollably at that point, barely able to form a coherent thought let alone a sentence. Logan seemed fine though, not a single goosebump on his skin. More than fine actually, if his entertained smirk was anything to go by.

“Helpful side of the regeneration,” Logan said, “keeps my body temp normal no matter what.”

He stepped forward till he was standing over you, watching you intently. “Now, where’s that blanket bub?”

You cleared your throat, standing up. “Must be in one of the other cupboards.”

He made an ‘ah’ sound as you quickly moved onto a different cupboard, all the while feeling yourself get colder and colder. Yet as you continued to search, you came up empty handed, the blanket having disappeared all together.

You were relentless though, because the thought of Logan thinking you came down there for him… well, you weren’t sure you’d be able to look him in the eye again if that happened. So you continued looking fruitlessly, all the while feeling the cold wrap its icy claws around you.

“Alright, you’re getting cold, admit defeat yeah?” Logan asked after watching you nearly drop an item because of how bad your hands were shaking.

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

He let out a scoff. “You’re certainly not fine. Come on now.”

His hand gently grabbed your shoulder, pulling you back from the cupboards. You turned around to stare at him, slightly panicked. “I didn’t come down here to take you to bed. I promise.”

Logan let out a laugh, his arms draped loosely around your waist. “I know that bub, I was just playing.”

You looked up at him, slightly embarrassed, though the cold ensured you didn’t focus on it too much. “Well…. As long as you know.”

Logan gave a rueful nod. “I know, but I’d have liked it if you did take me there.”

You nearly let out a baffled gasp, looking up at him with wide eyes. You two had your fun, but you’d never been this forward with each other before. “What?”

“Well, you’re cold,” he said, “and there’s no heated blanket. I’d hate for you to go back to your room just to be cold again.”

You couldn’t help but smile slightly. “Oh so you're doing me a favour are you?”

Logan shrugged, a smirk on his face. “You could say that. Or you could say I’ve wanted you for a long fucking time and I’m finally doing something about it.”

“Oh?”

Logan’s arms around your waist tightened, pulling you to his chest. You revelled in the warmth of having a human’s body against yours, the heat radiating from him a welcome comfort.

“Yes, oh,” Logan replied, grinning at you like he knew how much you enjoyed being in his arms. “So what do ya say bub?”

You couldn’t think too much about it, the cold making it hard for any rational thought to make it through, but you knew you wanted this. Him.

“Hmm… I say we better hurry up and get to my room because I’m freezing.”

Logan smirked. “One thing first.”

He leant down and kissed you, one hand staying on your waist while the other came up to your face, gripping your chin slightly and tilting it forwards to give him better access to your mouth. His lips were feverish against yours, like a starved man, dragging against your mouth like it was all he’d been able to think about for who knew how long.

You kissed him back, something he obviously revelled in if his audible groan was anything to go by. Both his hands were now on your face cupping it as he kissed you harder, devouring your mouth.

He pulled back when he noticed your shaking though, shaking his head at you with an amused smile. “Now let’s get you in bed yeah?”

You nodded your head, almost salivating at the thought of some warmth, and let Logan lead you to your room, a hand placed firmly on your waist. When you saw your bed, looking so inviting, you left Logan’s side to crawl into it, letting out a sigh of content when you covered yourself under the piles of blankets.

Logan smirked at you before tugging his shirt up and taking it off. Your eyes widened as you stared at his chest, his abs flexing as he raised his arms, the small trail of hair going from his belly button to hidden behind the waistband of his sweatpants, hanging low in his hips and giving you the perfect view of his V-line.

“What are you doing?” you managed to ask, even though you still hadn’t torn your gaze away from his body.

Logan’s smirk, noticing your stare, turned smug. “The less layers the better body heat bub.”

You swallowed, feeling your cheeks heat. “Well I’m too cold to take any of my clothes off.”

Logan moved forward, gently nudging you aside so he could get under the covers, immediately wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back to his chest. You shivered delightfully. He was right; the less layers the better body heat.

He moved forward to whisper in your ear, “that’s alright bub. We’ll leave that for another night.”

You smiled again, feeling flustered, and Logan chuckled against your head, giving you a chaste kiss on your hair.

“Goodnight,” you whispered to Logan, snuggling closer to him.

Logan’s hands tightened around your waist, pressing his head into the crook of your neck and peppering some kisses there. “Goodnight bub.”

#logan howlett #wolverine #x men #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #x men movies #x men fic #x men x reader #james howlett #james logan howlett #xmen

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mellosdrawings · 5 months ago

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The Princes

Ten years later. When marrying a Prince turns a Queen and a Servant into actual Royalties.

Because Vil deserves a real crown and Jamil deserves to be treated better.

NOW I'M GONNA RANT ABOUT MY CHARA DESIGNS CHOICES AND ALL THE DISCOVERIES I MADE WHILE LOOKING FOR REFS! If you only care about art and funny doodles, you can scroll down for a handful of slices of life.

(Don't worry if you can't read my notes, I'm repeating myself better right under this)

Leona

-Lion: As you may know, one of my grievances with Leona is how his hair doesn't look like an actual mane despite being a lion. While I don't want to stray too far from the canon design with the usual drawings, that's the occasion for me to have some fun with a future version. Give that lion a beard and voluminous hair!

-Hair: First, get those bangs out of his face. Despite Leona being very confident, he still has bangs covering his scarred eye. I wanted him to finally own the aspects of him that may be scary to others (his UM, his scar, etc). I actually went with bangs framing his face similar to the ones he had during his Overblot. I wasn't sure whether to give him dreadlocks or curly hair, but I ended up choosing the free curls decorated with some atebas and braids so that Vil could have more fun styling them.

-Eye: Thanks @aria-faye for the idea, I decided to have his eye gradually lose its capacities with time. From a headcanon that, while the eye wasn't directly touched by whatever attack scarred him, the process of healing still had an impact on it and he gradually lost sight in his left eye years after years.

-Body: Not giving him a dad bod (yet, maybe in another ten years), but definitely giving him more voluminous yet casual muscles. Practical muscles with a healthy dose of fat and tissues. Also giving him two full sleeves of tattoos because I decided he should have much more than just his lion tattoo.

-Clothes: Went full Maasai dressing and Kenyan fabrics and beadworks. If you're not familiar with it, please go check it out, it's GORGEOUS!! Crown is beadwork too. He also has one Arabic styled foot jewellery.

Jamil

-Hair: My first order was to remove his double-faced hairstyle and also remove his bangs from his eye. Make him confident enough to show his whole face. Unlike Leona and Vil, he doesn't really want a crown though (he still feels weird about becoming royalty) so instead he uses a braid as crown. Also gave him a little goatee because I like facial hair and Jafar has a beard too.

-Body: He grew up! While he didn't quite catch up with Leona and Vil, he is now closer to their sizes than before, sitting at around 180cm. He kept his breakdancer/martial artist lean muscles but developed a bit of shoulders.

-Clothes: Went full Arabic dressing and fabrics (once more, go check the fabrics, they are pieces of arts). I gave him floral motifs instead of his usual fire/snake motifs (though he does have a snake earring and a fangs necklace) to symbolise his rebirth/blooming. Like Leona, he has one piece of jewellery that is beadwork.

Vil

-Hair: Here it was a bit tricky. Considering Vil's work, he likely changes hairstyles a lot, going from long to short for his roles instead of his wants. So I leaned into the little things he could add to his hair despite their constant changes, mostly jewelleries, beadworks and wool decorations he stole from his husbands. He also cares a bit less about them looking perfect and is allowing himself to be more natural. He doesn't have any facial hair (yet), keeping a youthful appearance for as long as he can. In another ten years though, he might start looking more and more like his father, beard included.

-Clothes: For Leona and Jamil's mental states, the three of them most likely started living in Sunset Savanna so they wouldn't freeze to death. Vil is well traveled so he can handle most temperatures without trouble, and he is used to dressing up in the local get ups. Here I decided to give him both African dress and Arabic fabric, and likewise both beadwork and golden jewellery. I gave him crown and heart motifs so he can keep being himself despite borrowing a lot from his husbands.

There, I'm done rambling. Here's some doodles, followed by some random headcanons.

-Vil does his husbands hair every morning and keeps giving them more and more intricate hairstyles. He developed a whole haircare and beard-care products set for them.

-When Vil is away for a movie, Jamil keeps his hair mostly down save for a few accessories.

-Jamil and Falena get along surprisingly well (to Leona's despair). Vil gets along very well with Falena's wife.

-Jamil acts as a Scalding Sands ambassador and still is the one to care for Kalim when he comes to visit, though this time he's doing it because he wants to and not because he has to.

-Vil got used to his new title immediately but Jamil struggles with it a lot. He still has a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that he is no longer a servant.

-The servants at the palace love Jamil because he always makes their job easier.

-Leona finally decided to put his wits to good use and became Falena's advisor. He still fights a lot with Kifaji about the direction to take with the country, but he managed to make some of his ideas heard to help with the staggering inequalities in the country.

That's all for now!

#so... that's officially my longest piece to date #this one took me nearly 10 hours #and I'm considering doing a colored version because Arabic and Kenyan fabrics are so beautiful I swear #won't happen in a while tho #mello's drawings #n2 squad #jamil viper #leona kingscholar #vil schoenheit #javil #leojami #leovil #twisted wonderland #twst #art #my art #analysis #Future!N2

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katsukikitten · 9 months ago

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cum here

Warnings: spit, dub con

A Bakugou Birthday collab read the intro on the ML first!

A notification pulls your attention in your tipsy stupor as you collapse half dressed in your bed. Another successful night out with your girlfriends when your favorite pro hero posts a picture.

A thirst trap no less making you pop up in bed, the room spins delightfully as you stare down at the picture, screen shooting it without a care that he may get a notification for it but you were sure that you wouldn't be the only one.

Bakugou Katsuki, THE Dynamight with his shirt up exposing his abs, his Adonis belt and the vein that leads down to what has to be his fat cock.

You salivate over the thought of it and the several shots of tequila have you feeling bold, although your friends would argue you'd have been this bold sober simply because of how much you spoke about him even if most of the public thought he was an asshole you claimed that's what made him so fucking hot.

Pushing up your tits and angling your phone just right before you snap a photo and attach it to a very public reply before you slip into his dms to send a little something extra.

Bakugou's phone becomes nuclear to say the least, blown up from how many replies and notifications has gotten in such a short time. Each and every woman and the few male prospects are more than attractive and yet none make his cock jump to life, not fully anyway.

Until he sees you, tapping on the picture to make it full screen.

Soft fat tits pressed together, skin aglow in the ambient low light of warm string lights. Tongue lolling past pretty lips, wet muscle most likely fluttering before you took the picture. Obvious that you waited long enough for drool to drip from the tip in a silvery string as some droplets collected on those perfect tits. Pinching his screen to zoom in on your sexy mouth he imagines pressing his angry cock head against before he shoved his length until you gagged around him.

He groans at the thought, zooming out to take in all of you before he finally reads the caption..

Cum here.

“Fuck.” He growls, clicking on your profile, going to privately message you in hopes of more pictures. Palm moving to free his cock from his boxers when he sees you messaged him first.

Sharing your location with the pro hero like a fucking idiot. What if Bakugou had been hacked?

And here you were offering yourself up on a silver platter.

Cum here echoes in his head as he backs out to your selfie and before he can talk himself out of it he's jumping back into the tight black denim that never made it past his thighs.

You lock your phone falling back into your bed after you've seen that he's read your messages. Sighing as you hadn't expected much else, especially since it was his birthday and half of the feed were thirst traps of others tagging Dynamight in hopes of getting his attention. He ignored every single one of them, even from well known models and porn stars, so what chance did you really have?

Still, it was fun to be a little delusional every now and again.

Fireworks echo in the distance and you're surprised the spring festival was going this late into the night. Never one to miss a good show you rise from your bed, topless and half drunk to watch the last of the fireworks before you'd pass out, sleep well past noon before ordering a fat order or take out.

Leaving the sliding glass door open when the cool night air makes you shiver and regret foregoing a shirt. Eyes adjusting to the dark easily but your eyebrow furrows up in confusion. You hear the fireworks but you can't see them.

At least not well, a small orange burst that makes you wonder if maybe they aren't fireworks at all, that maybe it was just a villain making their grand escape.

Scoffing you turn, closing the sliding glass door only for it to be stopped in its tracks. Looking up for see a hulking shirtless man shrouded in darkness on your balcony. Smoke, caramel and whisky envelope your senses as the man breathes evenly behind you. You blink once, twice before you register his eye color.

Toxic, crystalline bromine.

"Dynamight?”

“In the flesh, Sweetheart.” He removes his hand from the frame of the door, takes a step towards you and you step back.

Stalking forward until you're both fully in the room and he delights in the mixture of emotions in your eyes. Fear, excitement, arousal.

“Haaah, what's wrong? Little kitty is acting more like a cornered bunny. Ya scared?” He leers over you, crowding your space, “Shouldn't be. Yer the one who invited the big bad wolf.”

Grabbing onto your chin to turn your pretty face this way and that, he doesn't even need to force his eyes away from your chest, your face captivates him that much. He runs his tongue across his teeth before he smirks.

“Now where am I supposed to cum again?” His large thumb swipes over your plush lips before he shoves it between them, forcing your mouth open.

He tries to recreate the picture you sent him, watches the wet muscle flutter and it makes him salivate. Makes him gather it in his mouth before he's pushing it the tip of his tongue letting his spit hit your tongue.

“Right here wasn't it?” He mixes his spit with yours with his thumb, pressing down on your tongue harshly. He watches your eyes widen before they narrow, into that hungry cat gaze that was in your photo.

Eyes that devour him whole as you hollow your cheeks to suck on his thumb. Swirling it around the digit before you pop off of him, the lewd sound echoing around the two of you.

You're fast, faster than Bakugou, especially drunk, expects. Jumping onto him and wrapping your legs around his waist, bucking your hips to make him fall onto the bed with a grunt as your tongue slides into his mouth. He paws at you heavily, grabbing at all your delicious softness as he growls into your mouth, calloused hands still warm from his journey here. Launching himself into the air that did little to sober him after he stalked your profile enough to get your apartment floor and balcony right.

Your claws dig into the nape of his neck as you bring him into a sitting position parting the kiss slowly, letting the silvery string that connects the two of you snap on its own.

“Gonna let me take care of the birthday boy and his special request?” You practically purr, crawling down his body as your fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers and jeans. All but ripping them from his body even when he lifts his hips to help you free his cock while he grunts out a “‘Course.”

It stands at attention, jumping as your eyes fixate on the one thing you've fucked yourself to the thought of hundreds of times. Drunk all over again, eyes falling to half mast as your hand grips him firmly, listening to him hiss over the contact before you give him a few languid pumps.

Hovering over him for a moment before you look up, watching his pupils blown wide, wider than what they were at the door. Soft almost unnoticeable red tint to his cheeks as he tries to control his breath.

“Try not to fall in love.” You giggle, lolling your tongue out to swipe over the leaking slit in a quick stripe.

“Ya wish, Sweetheart.” But already his head is falling back, hands reaching to grab at your hair before you swipe him away.

Slowly taking him into your mouth, hand gripping what you can't fit into your mouth, letting his fat cock head gag so that your throat contacts the same way your cunt would. Saliva pooling past your lips to coat his shaft, gagging again when you hear him groan before you start a steady pace.

Bobbing your head, alternating hollowing your cheeks and letting him ram into the back of your throat. Giggling when you push his head into the pocket of your cheek, holding eye contact and he reaches down to pull his balls harshly.

He's never been this close to cumming with such little effort.

You let your molars graze him lightly before straightening him in your mouth again. Sure to hit your gag reflex purposefully so that his pre and your spit soak his neatly trimmed pubic hair that's starting to slick to his skin.

If you're lucky he'll stay long enough for your pussy to do that to him too. Cunt neglected as it soaks your underwear as you adjust your weight on your knees for some sort of friction.

Moaning around him when he groans loudly, at his hisses and growls of sugared curses that do nothing but encourage your sinful movements.

Katsuki is panting, the man with all the endurance in the world is fighting the building coil in his lower abdomen and losing.

Bakugou Katsuki never loses but tonight he just might.

Letting his fingers card through your hair before he's pulling harshly, still you don't budge. Lost in your mission to make this last as long as possible by changing from a speed that's bound to make his cum flood your mouth to a slow bob that has you gagging around his sensitive head every time.

Letting your eyes flicker to look up at him and his debauched face, throughly fucked out as his chest heaves eyes fixated on you even as he struggles to hold his head up as if he couldn't bare to look away from.the things you do to him.

The sight is enough to make your eyes flutter, to make you moan around him and the vibrations make his sac tighten, moving your hand so you can shove all of him deep into your tight throat, tears in your eyes that stick in long lashes and fall in fat droplets as you bob on his entire length, once, twice.

And he can't take it, the sight, your eyes all but begging him to cum as you choke yourself on him, as if his pleasure was more important than air.

“Oh fuck princess, just like that.” He groans, cupping the back of your skull as he presses enough to make you gag one last time before he bucks his hips up into you. Starving you of air as your nose is pressed to his pelvic bone while he paints your pretty throat in sticky white cum, your claws digging into the thick meat of his thighs deliciously.

Finally he lets you up and you gasp desperately for air even if you found his aggression as he chased his high undeniably hot. You expect him to smirk, expect him to laugh or to leave pulling up his pants in a hurry but he doesn't.

Instead his large hand grips your chin, pulling you to him as his free hand comes to wrap around your sensitive ribs. Closing the space so that he can kiss you, swiping his tongue over yours shamefully groaning into your mouth as he tastes himself mixed with your spit.

“Fuck.” He pulls you onto the bed, flipping the two of you so he can pin you to the mattress chasing your lips desperately. His other hand has a mind of its own as it rips your panties from your hot core, fingers quick to press and spread your glistening folds. Cruelly avoiding your clit before he shoves two thick digits knuckle deep into your drooling cunt.

Forcing you to arch off the bed, pumping into you with a harsh pace, fingers perfectly positioned to bully that spongy spot that has you seeing stars before he times it perfectly.

Pulling away enough to look you in your eyes before he slowly, roughly, swipes his thumb over your clit and makes you cum in a matter of seconds, faster than any toy. You arch off the bed with a moan so loud you're sure the neighbors know his name now, little do you know what else he has in store.

Removing his middle and ring finger from your fluttering cunt reluctantly, quick to press the digits to his tongue harshly. Smoky caramel fills your senses as his palm heats against the fabric by your head. Leaning over you again to swipe his tongue against yours to taste the two of you melded together in your hot, hungry mouth. He pulls away, hand gently cupping your throat as he holds your gaze, cock heavy and hard again as he aligns it with your still convulsing entrance.

“Sorry Sweetheart, guess I fell in love.” He bullies himself into you in one harsh thrust and you're seeing stars again.

“Now I gotta return the favor.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #Katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou thirst #bakugou birthday bash #bakugou smut #tw dub con

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