#arlo dittman fan fiction

[asleeponelmstreet]

French Inhale // Arlo Dittman X Female Reader Smut

Minors DNI

The new production assistant for Magic Funhouse catches Arlo on a night where he's not being a total tool.

tags: Arlo Dittman x reader, smut, loss of virginity, mentions of a degradation kink, alcohol and marijuana use, slight OOC Arlo because he's relatively calm and I'm still working on getting his voice right

Author's note: I have no idea if there is even an audience for this, but I really want to start posting fan fiction, specifically smut and this is the first one I've ever written that I've actually finished. I have a few other WIPs that I would like to post soon for Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel, but if someone ends up liking this maybe I'll delve more into the Brandon Rogers cinematic universe.

I wanted this to be a reader fic, but its my first time writing something like this for others and I made the mistake of making the reader bi and a former stoner so it might be harder for some readers to relate to.

Last note before we get to the good stuff, this came from the fact that I have a degradation kink and would love to be screamed at by Arlo. But I realized that poor man child is a virgin and I wanted his first time to be nice.

By your second week working on the set of Magic Funhouse, you felt like you were finally getting the hang of things. The cast and crew were chaotic to say the least and the star — specifically — was a massive tool. But you were getting to know some of their little quirks and learning the best ways to deescalate the absolutely batshit insane situations they found themselves in.

As their new executive producer, you did everything from man the lights and switch board to fixing the camera whenever one of them inevitably knocked it over and going on coffee runs. It wasn’t the best job, but it was a start and you were beginning to think you might actually be good at it.

Arlo had even stopped using the air horn to tell you when you messed up, opting instead to hurl verbal insults at you. But that was the beginning to be a new problem. You had always liked to be degraded in the bedroom but you never thought it would leak its way into your professional life.

There was something about that man-child, even if he was a total dick face, that made you wish he was bending you over a table while he degraded you. It made you fight back. And in a way, that you thought at least, brought a twinkle to those crazy eyes.

You were about to leave for the night, so you thought you’d try and get a few more words in with the performer before going home and spending the rest of the night with your vibrator. You knocked on his dressing room door.

“Who the fuck is it?” He yelled out.

You opened the door and started to say, “Hey it’s me” when you realized he was quickly pulling his hand out of his pants, trying to brush it off. He looked flushed and high, but he always looked high so that wasn’t new. “Sorry, Arlo. I shouldn’t have walked in like that.” You said sheepishly, thinking about how you would be keeping this image of him in your brain for later.

“Yeah, you really fucking shouldn’t have. What FUCK do you want?” He was yelling but keeping his hands on either sides of legs, looking a bit stiff.

“Oh, I just finished everything I needed to do for the day. And I was going to head out for the night, but I wanted to see if you needed any help with anything before I left.” You felt yourself starting to ramble, nervously you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt.

“Uh, yeah. I do need your help.” He said, which honestly surprised you. You raised your eyebrows, thinking about what you assumed the man had been doing moments ago. Was that what he needed help with? Even if he made your pussy wet, you weren’t sure if that was something you’d be willing to do.

“You do?” You asked him, realizing it was almost nine and that you were the last two in the studio.

“Yeah, I need help finishing this bottle.” He grinned. “And the rest of this fucking weed.”

Umm, what? Normally, you wouldn’t get fucked up with coworkers but you knew this job was pretty unconventional. And you hadn’t had a drink in a while or touched weed since college.

You stood there for a moment trying to decide what to do, but then your curiosity and hormones got the best of you so you sat down next to him and took the bottle from his hands taking a swig. You didn’t finish swallowing before motioning to him to hand you the taxidermied cat bong he was holding.

He obliged lying back on the couch with his hands folded behind his head watching you as if he was judging you and this was some sort of initiation into a secret club. You inhaled and instantly felt like a high schooler again before exhaling the way you always did with a little French inhale.

“That was hot,” he said, looking at you his eyes looking glassy and heated. You tried not to take his comment too seriously, but you felt warmth rush to your lower stomach just at his comment. “Teach me how to do that,” he demanded.

“I don’t really know how to teach it. I learned how to do it in high school and I’ve just always done it that way ever since.” There you go rambling again. Was it extra warm in his dressing room or was it just you? “This girl I liked did it and I thought it was hot, so I thought if I did it. I’d be hot too, I guess. Glad to know it still works.”

His face turned and he looked down at his lap and you realized what a mistake you had made. Mentioning high school probably was a trigger for him. You knew his past. You knew he had been in a coma since he was a child and only woke up a few years ago. No wonder he was such an asshole, he missed all the years when everyone is an asshole before most of them grow up and grow out of it.

“I can try and teach you, but I need to hit it again to try and think of how I can explain it. It’s basically instinct to me at this point.” He handed it back to you and you took another hit, this time really thinking about the motions of what you were doing.

“Okay so you take a large puff and hold it in your mouth… then you part your lips slowly letting it escape out of your mouth and maybe like use your tongue to push it up and out. That’s when you inhale through your nose.”

“Okay, okay. I got this. Give it to me,” he snatched the bong from your hands and gave it a shot. He failed miserably and even started coughing a bit. You reached forward and patted his back in a sad attempt to comfort him. Whatever it was, it was weird and you yanked your hand back as if you were a child who just touched a hot stove.

“It’s okay. It’s a bit hard at first. I remember I used to just sit in front of the mirror and watch myself for hours before I actually got it right. I never ended up learning any other tricks. They’re all hard.” He looked up at you, eyes wide and even more bloodshot than before. You wondered how red your eyes were about to be. He looked so soft and almost sweet and you realized this was one of the most pleasant and calm moments you had ever spent with him. “Try again. Maybe jut out your jaw a bit when you release the smoke. That might make it easier.”

He hit it again and you leaned back on the couch taking a swig of the bottle as you watched him. The drink wasn’t very good but you hadn’t been properly sauced in a while and decided tonight would be as good as any. It would also calm your nerves a bit. You hoped he didn’t notice the way your hands shook when you had pulled back from touching him.

This time he wasn’t quite there but it was definitely better than before. At least he wasn’t coughing. “You’re getting better,” You said with a smile that he reciprocated. Man, almost-nice Arlo was weird.

“I’ll keep practicing. But I’ve been hogging it. Your turn.” He handed it to you, and you questioned if you should keep going. You had been a major stoner in high school and college, but you stopped when you realized how lazy it was making you. You knew that even though your tolerance had been high at one point, it most definitely wasn’t anymore. But part of you wanted to see where the night went if you lost a bit of control.

You hit it again, and realized you were already feeling really high from the first two hits. And the warmth in your belly was growing from the combination of the alcohol and being so close to such a pretty man.

You handed the bong back to him, but he just set it down on the table. “You look really stoned,” he said.

“Ugh, do I? I haven’t smoked in a few years so my tolerance is low. I thought yours would be high though Arlo, but your eyes are bloodshot as hell.”

“This is some good shit. Something with moon rocks.” Your eyes widened at that. It would be a while before you were able to drive home. You resigned to drink a little more since now you knew you were stuck here for a while longer. “Shit, I remember moon rocks. I’m already feeling it but I’m about to be fucking weird.”

“About to be?” You smacked him on the chest playfully hoping it didn’t come across too much as flirting but also wondering if that wouldn’t be so bad. This side of Arlo, without the stressors and spotlights, was actually nice.

The two of you talked for hours about so many random subjects, about the show and other crew, your rebellious past and you even broached the subject of his parents and the coma at one point. He joked and teased but you dished it right back out to him, but it was fun. You were really enjoying him for once. Not just wanting him to hate fuck you against a wall.

At a certain point, he even mastered the French inhale and you stood up on the table and applauded, having forgotten about your plans to sober up at some point you had continued to drink and smoke here and there. You were still standing on the table, doing your best impression of Cronis kissing his stacks of money when you tripped and almost fell but he caught you, a little clumsily but he caught you.

Your skirt had ridden up, certainly giving him a decent view of your lace underwear (you liked to feel pretty even if no one was going to see you in them). The feeling of your breasts pressed against his chest even through the fabric of your shirts made you exhale sharply. He huffed, eyes locking with yours for a moment before setting you down on the couch and sitting a little further away from you than before. You were a bit confused, but pretty fucked up and horny so you made a strange decision.

You got on all fours and crawled on the couch to him. The v-neck of your shirt falling down, revealing a lot of cleavage. Heat rushed to his face but he looked almost scared. You started to regret what you were doing but you felt like you had to fully commit to not embarrass yourself. Once you were practically on his lap, you looked up at him with big puppy dog eyes. “Arlo, do you want to know a secret?”

He gulped. “Uh, yes.”

“I like it when you’re a jerk to me.”

His looked very confused. “Uh-what do you mean?”

You sat down next to him, realizing this might be harder than you thought. “Don’t get me wrong. I like seeing this softer side to you. But when you berate me in front of everyone, it turns me on.”

It looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his head. You decided to go bold, and settled yourself back in his lap. Your pulse quickened as you felt him go hard underneath you but you didn’t want to go any further before you got verbal consent from him. This was probably too far but your skin was practically buzzing from all the weed and alcohol and his lap just looked so inviting.

“Aren’t you a lesbian?” He asked.

You sputtered. “What? No,” then you realized where he got that from. The girl you told him about that inspired you to learn how to French inhale. “Oh, fuck. I’m bi.”

He looked a little confused.

“I like girls and guys.” You clarified and with that his face lit up.

“Fuck, that’s hot. I forgot that was thing now.” You wanted to correct him. Bisexuality had always been a thing, just less accepted and he was in a coma when people really started to come to terms with how fluid sexuality is but he grabbed your chin and pulled you in for a frenzied kiss. The feeling of his lips against yours, especially in this drugged state, was heavenly. He was a bit of a sloppy kisser, but you didn’t care and you doubted you were giving your best performance in this state.

You deepened the kiss, prying his lips open with your tongue and pushing it into his mouth. You ran your tongue along his and he let out a groan that made you squeeze your legs forgetting that he was between your thighs. Arlo bucked his hips into yours and then his hands wrapped around your waste pulling you as close to him as you could possibly be without taking your clothes off.

The two of you made out like this for a while, grinding your hips together and both making some of the most pornographic noises you’ve ever heard from yourself and partner from what was basically just dryhumping.

Panting, you drew apart to catch your breath but pressed your forehead against his not wanting to be too far from the dickhead. You could feel his growing bulge in his pants and your panties were getting embarrassingly wet. “Do you want to—?” He started to ask, but you cut him off.

“Have sex?” You finished for him.

“Fuck, yes.” You kissed him again. This time was a bit slower, less frantic. You ground your hips down onto him, loving the feeling of his hardness against your clothed sex. Then he pulled away. “Just warning you, I don’t have much experience.”

“That’s okay,” you assured him. “You’ll figure it out.” You dove in for another kiss halting to ask, “Do you have a condom?”

“Shit, no. Do you?”

You heaved. “No.” He practically whined at that. “I have a birth control implant. And I get tested between partners. What about you?”

“I don’t take birth control. I’m a boy,” he said with a shrug.

“You’re not a boy. You’re a man, especially if you want to be having sex.” You chided him for what was either a dumb joke or pure stupidity on his part. “When’s the last time you were tested?”

“Never,” he said. Ugh, this was disappointing. You were so close and the only barrier you had was an utter lack of condom. You started to get off his lap, but he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you back down. Shuddering at the feeling of you abruptly falling into his lap, he whispered the next few words. “I don’t exactly have any experience.”

“You’re a virgin?” He nodded. You guessed that made sense, but you had thought he would have had sex at some point since coming out of his coma. Especially given how frequently the subject seemed to come up on the set of the children’s television program he hosted. “Okay, are you sure you want to do this?”

“Fuck yes,” he said, before pulling you back to him with a searing kiss. His skills were improving, just in the last half hour or so since you shared your first kiss.

Just a few moments later, you pulled off your top and bra. His eyes glued to your tits, he balled up his fists into the material of your skirt. “Go ahead, touch them.” Once given permission, he didn’t need to be told twice, his hands went straight to your chest. He cupped your breasts and ran his thumbs over your pert nipples. You groaned at the touch.

“Take off your shirt, Arlo,” you ordered, but before he could even start unbuttoning it, you started it for him. You pushed it off his shoulders and placed your hands flat against his chest. “Pants too,” the two of you parted quickly. Both stripping down to nothing.

As soon as those boxers were down his hips, you grabbed a hold of cock and he let out of whine as you pushed him back down on the couch. You gathered saliva in your mouth, spitting it on his dick to lube it up before pumping it into your hand. As you stroked him, you could feel him throbbing in your tight grip. The sensation sent a rush of heat to your core and made you gush so much you were dripping down your thighs with arousal. You reached down and touched your own sex with the your hand, gathering slick with your digit.

Usually, you refused to have sex with anyone who wouldn’t go down on you first but you were already soaking and it was his first time so you didn’t want to put too much pressure on him to do anything he didn’t want to do. “F-fuck, Arlo, you still good? You ready?” He grabbed your head by the hair at the back of your neck, yanking your head in for another kiss in response.

You took that as Yes, so you pushed him to lie on his back and crawled back on top of him. You locked eyes with him before lining up his tip with your entrance and sinking down on him, reveling in the feeling of him filling you. You both groaned and Once he was fully sheathed in you, you stayed there for a moment giving him time to take in the sensations. He may not have been the one getting stretched, but you knew he was a twenty nine year-old virgin and you wanted to make it last as long as you could. You had a feeling he wouldn’t last long though by the way his face contorted in pleasure from the mere feeling of your warmth around him. You leaned down to plant a short and sweet kiss on his lips before you started rocking against his hips.

You started with slow, languid movements at first, but he clearly became fed up with this teasing because he began thrusting his hips in time with each of your bounces. He looked so beautiful between your legs and that normally loud mouth of his was shut other than the moans that escaped from his lips.

His hands wandered all over your body before settling back on your breasts. He groped them rougher this time, looking intently at the way your nipples pebbled at his touch. He rolled them between his fingers, making your thrusts onto him falter. The performer leaned down, sucking as much of your right breast into his mouth that he could fit.

“F-fuck, Arlo. That feels good,” you said praising him and he suckled on your nipple before, slowly released with a slight graze of his teeth against your bud. He dragged a kiss from one mound to the other on your chest and replicated the same motions in your other nipple. You were surprised he was even putting this much effort in, not just sitting back and enjoying the show like you expected him to but you were grateful because the divine feeling went straight to your neglected clit.

You decided you would take matters into your own hands so you reached down and grazed tight circles around the swollen bundle of nerves. The movement distracted him from his attention to your chest, he hungrily watched your deft fingers playing with yourself as he disappeared into your greedy cunt.

He slapped your hand away and you were about to protest, but he replaced it with his own. He grazed his thumb lightly across your clit, before circling it and trying his best to copy what he remembered you doing moments before.

The touch from him, though clearly a new action for him, made your thighs quiver and your thrusts falter so you were glad by now he was pulling a lot of the weight in that department. The sound of smacking flesh was music to your ears as he jackhammered into you. Tension began to coil in your lower belly and you started to lose any semblance on composure you had before. Your moans grew louder and louder with each thrust.

“Fuck, I-I’m going to cum,” he yelled out and you were about to tell him to cum anywhere he likes but you were too late. His hips stuttered and you could feel his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside of you. Spent, you collapsed onto him as soon as he finished painting your walls with his seed and kissed him hard. You wrapped your arms around each other and basked in the afterglow of the mess you made of one another.

You may not have cum, but you were spent from all the tension. You really didn’t expect to once you learned it would be his first time. And he came pretty close to getting you over that threshold, which you thought was actually pretty impressive for his first time.

He stayed inside of you for a few minutes as the both of you gasped for air. The room was silent, the sounds of sex having ceased and both of you too tired to utter a word. But even after he pulled out, he clung on to you like a life raft keeping him afloat. It was so nice to be held like this. It has been so long since someone had wanted to cuddle after sex. You were so lost in your thoughts it took you a moment to realize his seed was spilling out of you. You jumped up, surprising him and looked around the room for something to clean yourself up with.

His brows furrowed, “What’s wrong?”

“I need something to clean up your cum,” you said, your eyes scanning the room for something you could use. He put one hand on your hip, keeping you on top of him as he reached down under the couch to grab a box of tissues. He handed them to you and you thanked him before really thinking about how it was a strange place to put them. “Why were these under your couch?” You asked.

“You interrupted my post-show jack off session. I had to hide them somewhere,” you giggled a bit at that as you patted yourself clean before moving on to wipe away the cum that spilled out on to him and the couch.

“I fucking knew it, so you were just trying to get your dick wet when you offered me a drink?”

“I was trying to get to know my favorite employee,” he said nuzzling his face into your chest sheepishly, before retreating slightly to add, “I thought about what it would be like to fuck you but I’ve convinced myself I’d be a virgin forever.”

“Well, now you know that’s not true.” You said before pressing your lips to sweat soaked forehead.