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senaar-ika · 2 days

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baby, i'm-a want you — (bonus) "platinum tier"

gif by me

pairing: din djarin/dieter bravo rating: E (18+) mdni word count: 1.2k content: swearing, mentions of monster fucking, furries, and oviposition, sex toys, a/b/o dynamics, unprotected p in a, "knotting" (it's not real, just go with it), talks of aliens, masks, copious amounts of lube, if i missed anything lmk! dividers: @saradika-graphics beta: @qveerthe0ry & @scenaaario (ily both ♥)

a/n: this was written for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub may drabble challenge! go read the others and join in on the brainrot with us ♥

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for updates, follow @oakslibrary and turn on notifs ♥

“Do you believe in aliens?”

It was the first thing Dieter Bravo said to him when Din walked on set that day. In fact, it was the first thing Dieter Bravo had ever said to him. They’d only seen each other in the halls of the studio and around catering before this.

It wasn’t the weirdest thing Dieter had ever said to him since, but well, he wasn’t expecting it either. With big, dark eyes, Din looked Dieter over. Those unruly curls and dilated pupils being staples of Dieter’s appearance.

“Never mind, it’s not important,” Dieter waved him off, putting his sunglasses on. He had a joint sticking out of the mop of curls on his head, resting precariously on his right ear.

Din raised a brow, an amused grin crossing his features. They were going to film a scene together in a few moments and Din would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited. He’d watched Dieter’s content for a long time, and it was rare for him to have scene partners. Almost all of Dieter’s videos were solo, with the most outlandish toys and concepts than anyone on the site.

Dieter appealed to the monster fucker and furry communities, to put it plainly.

In fact, Dieter got recognized at the AVN Awards last year for being able to take the biggest non-human dildo in a single session.

So, the question of aliens was just normal conversation, Din assumed.

“Are you sure you don’t want to know?” Din asked easily.

“Of course I do,” Dieter scoffed. “But it’s not for the reason you think.”

Din blinked, listening intently for Dieter to continue.

“Okay, maybe it is,” Dieter’s shoulders slumped in defeat, and leaned on the railing next to them outside the studio. “I just wanna know, like,” he scrambled for the words, hands moving in all directions. “If– No, when, they invade, or I dunno, visit, I guess? Would you be scared or turned on? Who knows what they’ve got packing in there, y’know?”

Din snorted and shook his head in amusement.

“Listen! I’m just saying, those tentacle and dragon toys I have are amazing, but it’s nothing compared to the ovipositors I have, okay.”

Din raised his hands in defeat, not denying it in the slightest. “I believe you,” he chuckled. “You were going to use one of those toys with me today, right?”

A slow, dopey grin grew on Dieter’s face. “Yeah, but not one of those. I’ve got an idea for you, big guy. Max gave me the green light,” he winked, looking at Din over the top of his sunglasses.

A shiver traveled down Din’s spine in excitement.

“Mmm, fuck, Din,” Dieter whined, his body trembling below the larger man. His skin was flushed a lovely red color, his chest heaving rhythmically.

Din smiled from under the helmet. His breathing sounded heavier under it, making Dieter’s head spin. This is why Dieter wanted to work with him. He was talking to Max about how sexy he found Din’s content because he was always masked and he could be anyone underneath there.

But Dieter was lucky because he knew what Din looked like.

The toy Dieter had put on him was something he called a “wearable”. It was a silicone second-skin of sorts, to put on top and around Din’s cock. Normally Dieter was happy to have Din’s cock bare and beautiful, but this wearable had a knot at the end, and well.

Dieter was in a mood.

“C’mon,” Dieter pouted, wrapping his legs tighter around Din’s waist impatiently. “Knot me,” he smirked, arching his back teasingly.

Din growled and slammed his hips forward, the top of the knot brushing the rim of Dieter’s hole enough to make him gasp in surprise.

Din normally cut an imposing figure on an average day, so with the storyline of Din being the “alpha” to Dieter’s “omega” it really drove the point home.

Large, rough hands gripped Dieter’s soft, pudgy hips and squeezed as he started fucking into him in earnest. Dieter’s eyes rolled back, eyelids fluttering shut and lips parted obscenely. Din’s heart pounded with the effort of his thrusts as heat settled at the base of his spine.

The sounds coming from them were filthy. Dieter preferred to have an obscene amount of lube in his videos and it was no different with a partner, the slick wet suck of Din’s cock fucking into him being caught by the mics perfectly.

One of Din’s large hands traveled up Dieter’s sides and rubbed a pebbled nipple with his thumb, his hips never letting up on their pace.

“Oh, fuck,” Dieter moaned shakily, his thighs trembling on either side of Din’s narrow hips. The small puddle of precum collecting on his tummy started dribbling down his flushed skin. “P-please,” he whined, looking up at Din with big, wet eyes.

A low rumbling simmered deep in Din’s chest as he gave Dieter what he wanted, slamming his hips hard against his ass. It took two more thrusts and Dieter was shaking like a leaf as he came with a shout of Din’s name, thick spurts of come landing on his chest.

Din groaned, eyes locked on Dieter’s disheveled appearance. “Fuck.”

He raised Dieter’s legs and folded the other man nearly in half, into a mating press, and chased his own release.

Dieter moaned loudly, his toes curling and fingers gripping the sheets tightly in his fists.

“You want it?” Din growled.

“Y-yes!”

Neither of them could even feel the silicone anymore at this point. It just felt like Din’s cock had this extra little something, this knot.

And when it pushed past the tight ring of muscle of Dieter’s hole, it felt like heaven. Dieter made a sound none of them had ever heard before as a weak trickle of come released from his overstimulated cock.

Din pushed one more time once it was inside and erupted as he came, head thrown back and a loud grunt echoing underneath his helmet.

They breathed hard, chests heaving. Dieter’s curls stuck to his forehead and Din’s mask was fogging up underneath.

“Cut!”

“Why haven’t we worked together before?” Dieter panted, eyes glued to a throbbing vein on the side of Din’s neck.

Din lifted the helmet off and smiled down at him, leaning over to kiss Dieter’s lips languidly. Dieter hummed into it and wrapped his arms around the larger man’s neck. They’d be stuck connected like this for a bit until Din’s cock grew softer.

When they parted, Din pretended to think about it. “Maybe it’s because I don’t believe in aliens?”

Dieter froze and blinked at him. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Well…” Din smirked, pinching Dieter’s nipple. He watched as Dieter’s face twisted into shock, but spoke before he got too upset. “Kidding! I’m kidding,” he laughed, kissing Dieter again.

“Oh my god,” Dieter slammed his head against the pillow. An assistant came over to them to ask if they wanted water, and they nodded. “I almost threw a fit. You’re such a dick!”

Din snorted and winked at him. “You’re just easy to tease.”

Dieter blushed a little and looked into his eyes again, melting a little at the look he saw there. “Can I have your number?”

A wide smile graced Din’s features.

“Only if I can have yours, alien boy.”

#hehehehheehe kicking my feet #i would read an entire anthology of every single one of these characters #fic recs

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senaar-ika · 4 days

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the t-shirt - a bright lights drabble [dieter bravo x neurodivergent!f!reader]

summary: Dieter needs to borrow your shirt. He'll make it up to you--he promises. rating/warnings: E [smut! reader is described as plus size, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected PIV (they have had this discussion at this point), a little bit of anal play, bossy/dom Dieter, subby Pix, Dieter has a big dick, the tiniest bit of insecurity, FEELINGS, aftercare, fluff] wc: ~2k a/n: please go to @ezrasbirdie-updates to be notified of updates! okay so we all saw the shirt. it made me go a little crazy, and then this happened. this is set FURTHER INTO THEIR RELATIONSHIP than we have gotten to in the main story. it's really just smut and them being unbearably cute, and i wanted to give y'all something for your patience, but it's optional reading. if you wanna wait for them to get a little ways into it, by all means. if you DO read it, i hope you enjoy it!! this is not beta read by anyone, i'm just yeeting it out. masterlist | series masterlist | dieter bravo masterlist

“I need your shirt.”

Dieter has always been in the habit of stomping into whatever room you’re in with one wild demand or another. This is nothing unusual. It’s the first time he’s asked for the literal clothes off your back, however.

You give him a once over, nose scrunched. He’s covered in what looks like the iced coffee you brought to him approximately five minutes ago.

“Excuse me? What did you do?”

“It wasn’t my fault,” he whines.

“What, someone just picked it up and dumped coffee on you? Again?”

He sticks his lip out. “I was looking at my phone and I ran into this stupid chair and then it dropped all over me and now I’m all sticky.”

God, you hate when he pouts. You’re still building up resistance to that one.

“Okay, but why do you need my shirt? What am I supposed to wear?”

“I just need it to run over to wardrobe. There’s a bunch of people with fucking cameras everywhere and I look stupid. You stay in here, I’ll bring it back. You can wait for me half naked. Or wear my robe,” he adds hastily at the sharp frown you give him.

He slips his hands around your waist, fingertips skimming the hem of your shirt. You grab his wrists and squeeze. That does sound appealing, but you’re not letting him get away with that easily. “Oh yeah? And how long am I waiting in here ‘half naked’ for you? An hour? Two hours?”

“Two hours max. Come on, baby, just take a long break, you won’t get in trouble. Read some of that nasty porn you’re always—”

“Dieter, oh my God,” you hiss, starting to push him away.

“What?! Am I not supposed to know? You left your little book by the pool,” he teases. His lips travel from yours, down your neck in sloppy little smacks. “Please?”

“You make it up to me?”

“Of course,” he murmurs, fingers sliding further under your top.

“Promise?”

He tugs the shirt over your head. “Damn, baby, maybe I’ll just stay here instead,” he groans, eyes going straight to your bare torso.

“Dieter,” you warn.

“Kidding. You’re just so pretty,” he says.

He manages to make blood rush to your cheeks every time he says that.

He pulls off his own wet, stained shirt and tosses on the couch. You make a mental note to put in your bag to bring home.

For a moment, just before he pulls it over his head, you have the smallest, silliest stab of insecurity. It’s unprompted, unwarranted—Dieter has never made you think he isn’t absolutely obsessed with your body—but he is, in fact, thinner than you.

It’s only as he pulls it on that you remember the man has a wingspan that, you suspect, could rival Michael Phelps. Okay, that’s an exaggeration, but his shoulders are massive. It’s a women’s t-shirt, a little more cropped in the waist than you might usually wear. But it’s cute, and you’re wearing high-waisted pants, so it works well.

With your outfit, anyway.

It pulls at his shoulders, and while it does hang much looser at the chest and waist, his thick biceps are almost bursting from the arm holes.

“How do I look?” He asks.

“Dee,” you murmur, swallowing a little whimper.

“What?” He glances in the mirror. The tiniest bit of his tummy shows. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Nothing at all,” you purr. “Ohhh, okay, you like it,” he murmurs, pulling you against him. “Admit it.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t. Didn't you say there's cameras out there?"

"So? I look awesome." He dips his head to kiss you again, and a loud bang on the door interrupts.

Always.

He ignores it, just backs you up against a wall, lips pressing hard against yours. “Wait for me,” he rasps, as if you can leave this room in his robe.

On his way out, he pauses when he spots your iced matcha sitting full and unperturbed.

“Hey, Pix—”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Told you I’d bring it back,” he says as he walks through the door.

He’s still wearing it.

“You’re supposed to give it back, Dee,” you laugh, but he’s already unbuckling his belt.

“You get ready for me?” He asks, attacking your lips and tearing his robe off of you.

“Yeah, but—”

“Wore it under the sweater during the shot—smelled you the whole time—couldn’t stop thinking about getting my cock in this pussy. Please, please tell me you’re ready for me,” he begs, slipping his hand into your pants and groaning when he feels you dripping for him. “You read that book, huh?”

“You’re a little feisty today, Dee.” He’s right, but still.

He looks up from the mark he’s started sucking onto your neck, those big brown eyes begging for something completely different than before.

“Is that okay?” He breathes.

You pretend to consider it. “Hmm. You wanna boss me around, big man?”

He growls into your neck. You can feel his cock grinding into your thigh. “Please,” he grits out.

You kiss him on the temple and stretch your neck out to give him better access. “Only ‘cause you asked so nice,” you whisper.

He doesn’t wait for you to say anything else.

Dieter spins you around, bends you over the couch, and unhooks your bra before you can think to react. One large hand smacks your ass, hard enough you can feel the imprint of five big fingers even through your pants. He wastes no time in yanking those down, too, until he’s got you completely naked. You glance over your shoulder and shudder—he’s still fully clothed, looking ridiculously broad in that little shirt.

Your shirt.

“You’re not wearing panties,” he husks.

“I didn’t like them with the pants.”

He doesn’t seem to care much about the reason, though, dropping to his knees to pull your thighs apart and dive in with obscene slurps. “Thought you—fuck—thought you wanted to fuck me,” you tease as he noses at your clit, licking his tongue into your needy pussy.

You’ve never had a man fuck you with his tongue the way Dieter does. It’s long and thick, just like the rest of him, curling so far into you you’d swear he hits your g-spot.

And then, of course, there are the noises.

He sounds like he’s been starving and you’re his first good meal in months, moaning against your pussy, panting when you rock back to meet him, growling when you mewl his name. Vibrations hum against your core as he presses his palm against your clit and urges you to grind.

“Know what I said,” he grunts. “But I wanna make you come, if I can. ‘M in charge.”

Hard to argue with that.

It’s nice to let go like this sometimes, even when you know better. The door’s locked, and it’s not like Dieter Bravo going down on his assistant is the most scandalous thing that’s ever happened on a movie set.

“You’re gonna smell like pussy the rest of the day,” you tease breathlessly, but it just spurs him on, his palm rubbing firm circles against your swollen clit.

“Good,” he grunts. “Come on, give it to me, I can feel it—oh, fuck yeah—”

He just has to run his fucking mouth to prove a point. He presses his tongue into your cunt and growls as you clench around him, clawing at the leather couch to keep yourself upright. You’re barely finished before he pulls away.

“Hold still,” he says, his voice going deep and stern with another swat to your cheek.

“Yes, sir,” you sigh, still boneless.

It’s taken a while to keep yourself from tensing in anticipation of just how large he is. It’s always a little stretch, but less so now.

“That’s my girl,” he moans, pushing in slowly. “Got that pussy all ready for me, let me slide right in.”

He bottoms out, narrow little hips pressed right up against your plump ass.

“Ah, shit,” he hisses.

“What?”

“Not gonna last—need you too fucking much—”

“S’okay,” you mumble, burying your head in your arms as he uses you. You get lost in this feeling, his fingers digging into you as his hips slap against your ass. You can hear him grunt with each thrust.

He smacks you again, just to see it jiggle.

“Love that ass,” he groans. “You gonna let me fuck it one day?”

“Dieter—”

“You’ll like it, baby,” he purrs. Something warm and wet drips between your cheeks, and he thumbs lightly against your other hole, lighting up all the little nerve endings and making you squirm underneath him.

“Yeah,” you whine. “I’ll like it.”

He doesn’t go any further than that, but you kind of wish he had.

Dieter drapes himself over your back, starting a slow grind, barely moving in and out as he digs his teeth into your shoulder and cups your tits in his hands. You wish you could feel his skin, but there’ll be time for that later. Right now you let him use you like a doll with no needs or responsibilities besides being the best little fuck toy money can buy.

“Fuck,” he pants. “You’re such a good—little—hole—”

Each word is punctuated with a thrust, and you can’t stop the whimpers that bubble up through your chest. He’ll pay for talking to you like that later, and he knows it.

Dieter pulls out without warning, and before he can say anything, you drop to your knees, engulfing his cock in your mouth and moaning over your combined tastes. You can’t take all of him, of course; he’s too big for that, so you wrap your hand around his base and set to work. He almost collapses, grabbing the back of your head to steady himself and letting out a feral, needy moan. It’s too loud—if anyone walked by the door, they heard it.

Both of you are past the point of caring.

“Yeah,” he growls. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, fuck, take it, take it—”

You’ve really never seen anyone enjoy an orgasm the way Dieter does, head thrown back, eyes rolled back into his skull, mouth agape. He’s on a completely different plane of existence. The only warning you get is that and him squeezing the back of your head before his hot come shoots into your mouth and down your throat.

He’ll pay for that later, too.

Not that you really mind—you swallow down every last drop—but he does need to be reminded of his manners. He knows it, too, as he pulls out shuddering, trying to come back down enough to check on you.

Eventually he pulls you up and wraps his robe around you, kissing your cheeks and murmuring soft words against your skin.

“You okay?” He asks.

“‘M fine,” you sigh. He leads you around the couch and settles you there, crawling on top of you and spreading his body over you like a weighted blanket.

You don’t know when he figured out that it grounds you, but you’re grateful for it.

“Very rude,” you tease.

“Your mouth felt so fucking good,” he murmurs. “So pretty down there, couldn’t help it.”

“Wearing my shirt made you that horny?” You giggle.

“Mmhmm,” he says. “Kept having to readjust my boner.”

“Jesus Christ, Dee.” You let out a loud laugh. Of course. “Can I have it back now?”

“I wanna keep it,” he says.

“What? Why?”

“Reminds me of you.”

You swallow harshly, not expecting the influx of emotion at the idea of him actually wanting to be reminded of you. It shouldn’t surprise you—he’s never away from you for that long.

But sometimes you forget you exist to other people. That your existence doesn’t cease in their lives just because you’re not right next to them. That someone might have something of yours and smile when they see it.

“Okay,” you murmur. “You can have it.”

He smiles and kisses you, and you can’t stop looking at him.

“What?” He asks.

I love you.

“Nothing. You’re just pretty.”

“I know,” he says, snuggling against your chest and letting out a contented sigh as you scratch the top of his head.

“You got any more scenes?” You ask.

“Nope.”

“Let’s go home and order sushi. And then I get to pick out whatever shirt I want from your closet,” you say.

“Not the purple one—” “Especially the purple one.”