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jen-with-a-pen · 15 hours

Note

Andy + 62. “bad girls/sluts don’t get to cum”

a beautiful spring afternoon

pairing: ex-boyfriend's dad!andy barber x female reader

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, nipple play, breeding kink with actual breeding, unspecified age gap, daddy kink, light degradation, light choking, praise kink, revenge sex, referenced cheating ex-boyfriend, happy ending, nicknames (sweetheart)

word count: 2,000ish

a/n: ooof Eva, this prompt did a number on me 😵‍💫 so it's only fair that i write a fic that hopefully does a number on you, right?? i hope you enjoy this filthy little fic!! ♡♡

You knew exactly what you were doing by going over to Mr. Andy Barber’s house on that beautiful spring afternoon.

After all, you’d seen the way your boyfriend’s father looked at you when you wore one of your sweet little sundresses, his blue eyes darkening as they traced the curves of your body. Andy may have thought you never noticed, but you did. You’d simply ignored it because you knew it’d hurt your boyfriend’s feelings.

But your boyfriend—your ex-boyfriend—hadn’t thought to care about your feelings before sticking his dick in other girls. Plural. So you decided it was only fair for you to finally ignore his feelings and act on the attraction you felt for his father. The attraction you knew Andy reciprocated.

That day, you put on your favorite sundress, the one that highlighted your curves and flirted with showing a little too much thigh, then baked a tray of blondies that were your excuse to go over to Andy’s house. The sun was shining and a cool breeze was blowing when you knocked on his door, fixing an innocent look on your face for your ex-boyfriend’s dad.

“What’re you doing here, sweetheart?” Andy asked, not unkindly when he answered the door. You watched his eyes flicker down to your neckline, like he was fighting against the urge to take in how your sundress hugged your chest. He cleared his throat and went on, “My son said you broke up.”

Your smile turned a little brittle at the reminder of Andy’s son, and before you could stop yourself, you bit out, “Did he tell you why we broke up?”

Something flickered in Andy’s expression, a darkness flitting across his face before he wiped it away. “He did,” Andy admitted, his tone gentle. For a long moment he stared at you, like he was considering you. Then, as if he’d come to a decision, he stepped to the side in a wordless invitation. You took it eagerly.

You preceded him into the kitchen, and the entire time, you felt your ex-boyfriend’s dad’s eyes on your ass, watching it sway as you walked. A shiver of excitement raced down your spine and you put an extra pep in your step, making the short hem of your skirt swish in a way that would tease Andy with little glimpses of your bare ass.

Because of course you hadn’t worn any panties. Why would you when your intention was to seduce your ex-boyfriend’s dad?

Once in the kitchen, you put the tray of blondies down on the counter in front of the window that overlooked the backyard. You’d spent many evenings in that backyard, on the arm of Andy’s son while you ignored his father’s heated looks. Perhaps you should’ve felt guilty for what you were doing, but you only felt eager anticipation.

“I have to ask, sweetheart,” Andy said, his voice a gentle rumble as he came to stand beside you, far too close than was polite. You didn’t pull away, though, simply turned your face to meet his gaze. “My son breaks your heart, and you decide to bake me some blondies?” he asked, his tone more curious than accusatory.

Still, you felt called out. It seemed obvious suddenly what you were doing at Andy’s house. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you fumbled for the excuse you’d practiced in the car.

“Oh, I just had extra,” you said lightly. Your lie was conspicuous even to your own ears, but you soldiered on, refusing to admit just yet that you’d come over to Andy’s house with the sole intention of fucking him to get back at his son. “I mean, I can’t eat these all by myself, can I?” You forced a laugh that nearly made you wince. “And I remembered blondies were your favorite, so…” You trailed off, finally running out of steam.

Andy stared at you for a long moment. To avoid his gaze, you turned back to the window and looked out on his backyard, appreciating the budding greenery of the trees. There were even some pretty spring flowers that had sprung up, and you thought idly that they might look nice in a vase on the dining room table.

When you didn’t look at him, Andy shifted, moving to stand behind you and planting his hands on the counter on either side of your hips, caging you in. You could feel the warmth rolling off him, but no part of his body touched you. He only teased you with that connection.

“It’s sweet of you to remember blondies are my favorite,” Andy murmured, ducking his head until you could feel the ghost of his beard just barely grazing the skin at the base of your neck. Your shoulders trembled as you shivered, and you felt him smirk. “But why don’t you tell me the real reason you came to see your ex-boyfriend’s father.”

It would be easier to follow Andy’s command while you stared out at the nice spring day, but you prided yourself in not doing things in half measures. So you forced yourself to turn around, your body pressing against the hard lines of him in the process—and he was hard all over.

Your eyelids fluttered and your lips parted in a breathy sigh that you were certain was answer enough, but you made yourself look into Andy’s eyes and confess to your intentions.

“I came here to get back at your son,” you whispered, staring up at Andy from under your lashes. “I came here hoping you would fuck me, Mr. Barber.”

Andy let out a groan like he was being tortured, and you watched as his jaw worked like he was grinding his teeth something fierce. He still hadn’t touched you and with your back to the counter, there was a small gap of space between your bodies, but the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.

You waited anxiously, your confession hanging between you and your ex-boyfriend’s dad while he tried to hold himself back. Then, his gaze collided with yours and something in him seemed to snap.

All at once, Andy gathered you in his arms, his lips descending on yours for a kiss that stole the breath straight from your lungs. His lips were soft, but his mouth was firm and demanding as he kissed you, one of his hands cradling the back of your head so he could hold you exactly where he wanted you. It was all you could do to moan into the kiss and let him plunder your mouth for all you were worth.

“You’re such a bad girl, sweetheart,” Andy growled when he pulled away, kissing down your neck and nipping at your skin. He pulled the top of your dress down roughly, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking hard enough to make you cry out and arch into him. “Such a filthy little slut,” he grumbled, kissing across your chest to bite and suck on your other nipple. “But you’ll make such a pretty mommy.”

Your head was spinning as desire pulsed through your body, but Andy’s final words made you moan loudly. Your head was tipped back, fingers threaded in Andy’s soft brown hair while you held him to your chest, urging him to keep torturing your nipples. But his pronouncement had you shuddering and shaking with need.

“Ya like that idea, sweetheart?” Andy rumbled, pulling away to look at your face. His eyes roved over your features, taking in your blissed out expression, and grinned. “Ya like the idea of your ex-boyfriend’s dad knocking you up?”

A distant part of you knew it was a bad idea to say yes, but that part of you was buried deep beneath the arousal pounding through your mind, sweeping away all rational thought and leaving only base instinct behind. So instead of lying, what you said was, “Yes, daddy.”

Andy stilled at that, and you thought you might’ve said something wrong, but when you glanced at his face, his pupils were blown wide and he looked a little dazed. His eyes snapped back into focus and he looked at you with renewed determination. He grabbed your thighs and lifted you onto the counter, pushing between your legs while he undid his pants.

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, d’you know that?” Andy said, his tone almost accusatory.

You were only half listening to him, though, because at that moment, he pulled his cock out and you moaned at the sight of him. He was big and thick and you couldn’t wait to feel him split you open. But while Andy fisted his cock and stroked himself, his other hand grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.

“If we do this, we do this all the way,” Andy gritted out, and you didn’t have a chance to ask him what he meant because he continued on, explaining, “This isn’t a one-off revenge fuck, you’re mine.”

You expected to recoil at the possessivness in Andy’s voice, but instead, it felt right. Somehow, you knew that it was only right because Andy was right for you. So, for once in your life, you gave in to your heart without overthinking it.

Leaning back on the counter, you brought your knees up and spread your legs wide, rucking up your sundress to show Andy you were naked beneath the skirt. His eyes fell to your bare pussy and he let out a pleased rumbling sound.

“I’m all yours, daddy,” you purred, your words an invitation for him to take you, and keep you.

“Such a bad girl,” Andy mumbled, almost like he was talking to himself. Then he looked up, catching your eye before he notched the head of his cock at your entrance. He kept holding your gaze while he sank his thick length deep inside your pussy.

It felt so good, and you were so wound up, the feeling of Andy’s cock splitting you open pushed you to the edge of your release. Your body trembled and your inner walls fluttered around his thick cock, but Andy’s hand circled your throat. He choked you lightly and titled your face to look at him.

“Don’t come,” he ordered, his blue eyes dark as a stormy sky while he bottomed out in your tight cunt. “Bad girls don’t get to come.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head, Andy’s words nearly sending you over, but you managed to cling to the edge. You clawed your way back desperately, wanting to be good for him. By the time you managed to look back at Andy, you were panting with the effort not to come, but you were pleased to see his satisfied smirk.

“Atta girl,” he rumbled, pulling his hips back and thrusting inside you again, wringing a sharp cry from your lips. Andy set a fast, hard pace, barreling through all the effort you’d gone to in order to hold off your release, pushing you to the edge once again. “Let’s see if we can’t make a good girl out of you yet.”

It turned out, all you needed to do to be a good girl for Andy was let him take control. You let him spread your legs and fuck you on the counter in his kitchen until he was ready to bury his seed inside your tight cunt. When he was just about to come, he rubbed your clit, forcing you over the edge while he emptied his balls inside you.

But, since you were his, he didn’t stop there. Andy filled you with his seed over and over again on that beautiful spring afternoon. By the time the leaves were falling that autumn, it was obvious by the bump beneath your dress that you had his baby growing in your belly. In the time in between, Andy had moved you into his home and put a ring on your finger, and the two of you couldn’t be happier.

You never would’ve expected your ex-boyfriend’s dad would be the perfect man for you, but life worked in mysterious ways. It turned out, that beautiful spring afternoon was the beginning of your new life with your husband, Mr. Andy Barber.

#the perfect revenge plot #witchywithwhiskey's springtime fun #andy barber x reader #witchywithwhiskeywork #witchywithwhiskey #tw breeding #b&n boost #bucks & noble boost

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jen-with-a-pen · 18 hours

Note

🌝 booping trucker!ari while cockwarming

Chi, you wonderful menace, you have no idea what you've done to me!! this was going to be a short little scene and then it turned into THIS i'm sorry

bored on the road

pairing: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader

summary: you're bored on the road and it gets you into trouble.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, cock warming, object insertion, sadism/masochism, slight bratting/brat taming, choking, breathplay, painplay, face slapping, come play/come eating, exhibitionism, dirty talk, daddy kink, heavy degradation, some praise, brief objectification, pet names (sweetheart, baby, kiddo), possessive sex, tiny bit of aftercare, possessive behavior, controlling behavior, a mean hot man

word count: 4.7k

a/n: i know we're like almost a week past the tumblr boop fest but work was rough this week so apologies that this is a little late!!! also uh, this got way filthier than i was expecting so please enjoy i guess?? 😅

trucker king masterlist

Your head lay on Ari’s shoulder, the warm afternoon sunlight streaming in through the window of his truck and landing on your face, making you sleepy. But, though you were comfortable with your legs straddling Ari’s lap and your chest pressed so close to his that you could feel his heart beating against your sternum, sleep didn’t come.

You sat on your trucker’s lap, your bodies joined in the most intimate way while he navigated his rig through the frustratingly dull traffic on a dusty highway somewhere in the midwest. Both of you were quiet—Ari because he shut down all your attempts at conversation and you because you’d grown tired of trying to get him to talk.

Though he wouldn’t talk, Ari wanted you on his lap, your tight, soft hole keeping him warm while he drove. You’d acquiesced as always, happy to follow his command, to be useful and connected to your trucker.

Still, you were bored.

You’d turned your head to look out the window, but with traffic creeping along so slowly and nothing but the endless, barren desert stretching out beyond the road, there wasn’t much to look at. You could feel a restlessness thrumming beneath your skin, urging you to move, to do something, even as you tried to push it down.

Ari had made it clear he didn’t want to talk, and you knew well enough he wanted you to be a quiet, well-behaved little cockwarmer. You wanted to be that for him, you wanted to be content with cockwarming him like you so often were, but that restlessness clawed through your body until you finally succumbed to its siren’s song.

Sitting up straight, you wiggled your hips, watching your trucker’s face for a reaction as his cock shifted deep in your cunt. Though you knew it felt good for him, Ari merely grunted at the sensation, flicking a warning glare at you. Pouting, you squeezed him with your inner walls, clenching down hard enough to wring a huffed sound of exasperation out of him.

“Sit still,” he scolded in a low, rumbling growl, his words barely discernable in his gruff grumble. One of his hands shifted from the steering wheel to your lower back, pressing you down on his cock so the tip of him ground against a spot inside you that made your lashes flutter with pleasure.

Instead of settling you, his words and his hand on your back only made the frustrating restlessness worse. So you stared at your trucker in quiet contemplation for a moment.

Ari’s handsome face was hardened into a severe expression as he stared out at the unrelenting traffic clogging the interstate. His blue eyes were dulled with boredom and frustration of his own, the edges of his mouth pulled down in a frown framed perfectly but his dark beard. His brown hair hung down on either side of his face, calling attention to his handsomeness—and his unhappiness.

An idea came to you suddenly. A terrible idea. A wonderfully terrible idea.

Before you could think better of it, you booped Ari on the nose.

“Boop,” you chirped, pulling your finger away quickly. You knew the probability of retaliation from your trucker was high, though you weren’t certain what form it would take.

However, instead of growling or yelling at you to get back to being a quiet little cockwarmer, Ari simply cut his eyes to yours briefly. He raised an eyebrow, managing to look condescending even as he asked a silent question. He didn’t wait for a response, though, before he looked away from you and back out at the dusty road.

You huffed a little annoyed sigh at being essentially ignored by your trucker, your lips pursing in an even deeper pout. Though it was clear Ari didn’t like being booped, you refused to be deterred.

Tapping Ari’s nose again with your finger, you trilled, “Boop!” even louder than before.

Still, your trucker gave you nothing in the way of a compelling response. You should’ve seen the trap for what it was, but then, you were the one who got into Ari’s rig in the first place.

Determined to get a reaction out of your trucker, you pressed your finger to the tip of Ari’s nose like you were holding down a button and droned, “Booooop!”

Quicker than you would’ve thought possible, Ari tipped his head back and caught your finger between his teeth. He nipped at your skin hard enough to scold, but not break skin. It was so sudden, it shocked you.

“Ah!” you squealed at the sting of his teeth, the surprised sound dissolving into a giggle. You tried to pull your finger free, but Ari bit down a little harder.

His eyes cut to yours, a mirthful reprimand in his sparkling blue eyes. They practically shone in the warm afternoon light filtering into the truck cab.

“Daddy,” you whined, squirming your hips, the slight pain of his teeth digging into your skin going straight to your core. A soft moan slipped from your lips when you felt your trucker’s hard length twitch within your cunt, making you grind down on him as subtly as you could, trying to eke out the delicious friction of his cock rubbing inside of you. “I’m sorry for booping you,” you mumbled, pouting at your trucker. “I’m just bored.”

With one last nip to the pad of your finger, Ari let you go. However, he clearly wasn’t done with you because a moment later, his hand circled the front of your throat and he held you still, pinning you with his ruthless gaze.

A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine and you tried desperately not to show how much you enjoyed finally having your trucker’s attention.

“Aw baby, why didn’t you tell me you were bored,” Ari cooed in a mockingly sweet tone. It was the one he used just before he got really mean. Your heart beat faster with excitement.

His fingertips digging into your neck were a second warning, Ari’s hand squeezing your throat so tight, an involuntary whimper slipped past your lips. Instead of fear, though, there was only heady arousal dripping through your body, pooling in your core and leaking out around Ari’s stiff cock.

“Since warming daddy’s cock is so boring,” Ari began, his voice lowering into a deep, seething growl as he squeezed your throat even tighter, choking off your air supply. “Let’s see how you like it when daddy makes you ride something else, huh, fucktoy?”

You barely had time to grin at the malicious glimmer in Ari’s eye before he was forcing you off his lap and down onto the floor between the driver’s and passenger seats. The sting of pain in your knees as they collided with the hard floor scarcely registered when you were too curious about what your trucker had planned for you.

Ari shifted his grip to your chin and pushed your face against the gearshift sitting in front of you, the thick, leather-wrapped knob at eye-level from where you knelt.

The realization of what Ari expected you to do struck you like a freight train, stealing the breath from your lungs as your eyes widened. Even as your mind went blank with surprise, something dark and filthy deep inside your body twitched with interest, coming alive at the thought of sinking your pussy down on the gearshift of Ari’s truck.

“Lick daddy’s gearshift, sweetheart,” Ari ordered, mocking condescension dripping from his tone. Then your heart nearly stopped when he confirmed he wanted you to do exactly what you’d suspected. “You’re gonna wanna make it nice and slick if you don’t want it to hurt when you fuck yourself on it.”

Your eyes went heavy-lidded as you let Ari’s words wash over you, your pussy throbbing with desire and your lips dropping open in a silent moan. However, your trucker wasn’t an especially patient man, so he pushed your mouth against the gearshift, urging you to follow his command.

You knew well enough to follow any order Ari gave you, so you wrapped your hands around the shaft of the gearshift and pulled yourself closer. Pressing your lips to the leather and plastic of the shifter, you kissed all over it, making sure to leave plenty of drool behind.

“That’s it, cock slut,” Ari rumbled, his tone pleased. You could see out of the corner of your eye that he was flicking his gaze between you and the road, depraved delight sparkling in his eyes. “Show daddy’s gear stick some love.” His big hand settled heavily on the crown of your head, pushing your lips harder against the leather handle.

You redoubled your efforts, licking and kissing the gearshift until your lips and chin were covered in your own saliva. It was sloppy and messy, but you could tell from Ari’s warm chuckle that he enjoyed the sight of you making out with his truck’s shifter.

“You’re drooling all over that knob like you wish it was your new boyfriend, cock whore,” Ari teased, a wickedness in his tone that made your pussy throb and clench desperately around nothing. A soft whine caught in the back of your throat, but Ari heard the pathetic sound, laughing harder at you. “Is that it, gross girl?” he asked mockingly. “Ya wanna make daddy’s gearshift your new boyfriend?”

Using his grip on your head, he made you nod, rubbing your mouth lewdly against the slick leather knob. You whimpered, clutching the long shaft of the lever so you weren’t tempted to shove you hand between your thighs and impale yourself on your fingers. You were dripping down your thighs and you wanted something to shove deep in your aching, throbbing pussy.

“Well get him nice and wet, baby,” Ari said, the laughter in his tone stealing some of the edge from his command. “Cause he’s going in that tight cunt of yours—we’re gonna see how much we can stretch and ruin that needy little hole of yours.”

Ari’s hand left the back of your head, giving you room to lick and kiss and drool over the gearshift to your heart’s content. Distantly, you felt the drift of the truck as it slowly merged into another lane, but you were too preoccupied with your task to care much about the traffic Ari was navigating.

When your trucker was satisfied with your work, he grabbed the back of your neck and yanked you away from the gearshift. A protesting whine fell from your lips, which made Ari laugh loudly, the sound cold and mean as it filled the truck and made you hotter with desire.

“Time to fuck your new boyfriend, sweetheart,” Ari mocked, looking pointedly at the slick gearshift then back at you. “Let’s see if you’re still bored when you’re stretching your tight cunt on daddy’s gear stick.” His eyes danced with wicked mirth as he stared down at you from the driver’s seat, squeezing your neck when you didn’t immediately move to follow his command.

On trembling legs, you stood, bending at the waist to fit within the confines of the truck cab and turned around. If your bare ass was on display for any cars or trucks around Ari’s rig, neither of you cared. Thankfully, the oversized t-shirt your wore covered most of you.

As quickly as you could manage, you positioned yourself above the flat top of the gearshift and reached between your thighs to hold the shaft steady. You lowered yourself down onto the knob, the slick leather pushing against your dripping pussy.

However, though you were soaking wet with arousal and the gearshift was covered in your drool, the broad leather handle met resistence from your cunt, which refused to give and allow the thick object inside your small hole. No matter how you shifted or pushed down on the gearshift, it wouldn’t sink into your sopping pussy. A whine worked its way up your throat, leaking from your lips and filling the truck cab with your frustration.

“It’s too big, daddy,” you whimpered as you struggled, your thighs beginning to shake from the awkward way you hovered above the gearshift.

“Aw, baby,” Ari cooed before his voice turned cold and mean, “Do you think I fucking care?” He wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing the sides until your eyes flicked to his. His blue gaze danced in the afternoon sunlight with depraved intent. “I was perfectly content with you sitting in my lap, your cunt keeping my cock warm,” he growled, sounding furious as his gaze flicked between you and the road. “But you were bored—so you’re gonna fuck daddy’s gear stick or I’m gonna find something bigger to shove in that needy cunt of yours.”

Ari’s ruthless words had your pussy throbbing in response, more arousal dripping from your slit and onto the knob between your thighs. It was all you could do to whimper with desperation and rock against the leather shifter, your cunt aching to be filled.

The gearshift rubbed between your folds, teasing your little hole with its broadness. With renewed determination, you pushed down on the lever, pressing against it until your pussy’s resistence gave way and you finally—finally—felt the thick knob slip past the tight rim of your cunt’s entrance.

A loud, pornographic groan fell from your lips as your jaw dropped and your eyes rolled back in your head at the feeling of Ari’s gearshift sinking into your pussy. There was the burning sting of the thick, unyielding lever inside your stretched cunt, but the sensation softened into waves of pleasure that threatened to carry you away to a sea of ecstasy.

You craved more of that deliciously aching pleasure, so you pushed down on the gearshift, taking the leather knob deep inside your cunt. It felt like your pussy was greedy for more with how easy it was to lower yourself further on the shifter, until the top hit the end of you and you couldn’t take any more.

For a long moment, you hung suspended in the feeling of the fullness in your cunt, the leather knob so deep inside you, you were convinced that if you pressed down on your lower tummy, you’d be able to feel it. Your eyes were closed, mouth hanging open in pleasure-drunk bliss as you reveled in the sensation of having the strange object inside you.

However, your trucker clearly wasn’t happy that you’d forgotten you were putting on a depraved show for him, and he dragged your attention back to him in the meanest way possible.

Ari slapped you across the face, the cracking sound reaching your ears before you registered the sting. When the pain hit you, your pussy clenched tight around the gearshift inside you, and you moaned, blinking dazed eyes until your trucker came into focus. His blue gaze was dancing with amusement and cruel delight.

“Look at me while you ride your new boyfriend, cock whore,” Ari sneered meanly, his hand returning to your throat. He squeezed your neck lightly, a warning not to look away from him again. “Go on and degrade yourself for me, baby,” he rumbled, a grin slowly spreading across his handsome face. “Fuck yourself on my rig’s gear stick—show daddy what a disgusting little slut ya are.”

You stared into Ari’s eyes and moaned, your mouth parting and your gaze going heavy-lidded with pleasure at the depravity of his words. Your reaction only made Ari’s grin deepen, his eyes shimmering in the golden afternoon light filtering into the truck cab.

He kept looking back at the road, one hand on the wheel to steer the truck, the other around your neck. His attention was split because it had to be, but you had the compulsion to put on a show for him that was so distracting, he’d have trouble remembering to look away from you.

With that thought crystalizing in your mind, you lifted yourself up on the gearshift until only the top was lodged in your pussy, the knob stretching your tight hole to its limit, before sliding back down on the shaft. The lever was so stiff and unrelenting inside your body, the object so foreign, that a wicked shiver raced down your spine.

Your body knew it was taking something unnatural, something that was never meant to be shoved inside your slick hole. But you were riding it anyway, your pussy taking Ari’s gearshift like it was a cock and it turned you on more. Eagerly, you fucked Ari’s truck like it was him, bouncing on it happily, the knowledge that you were using something as perverse as a gearshift to get yourself off only making you gush even more with arousal.

“Daddy,” you whimpered on a moan, staring into Ari’s handsome face while you rode his gear stick. Pleasure and pain twisted your expression, your thighs trembling violently from holding you up, even as you kept fucking yourself on the leather knob.

“Ya still bored, cock whore?” Ari taunted, his hand around your throat pulling your upper body closer to him. Your nose brushed against the coarse hair of his beard and you moaned when you inhaled the familiar musky scent of your trucker.

The new position allowed you to brace your hands on Ari’s chest, and you nearly sobbed in relief as it took some of your weight off your shaking legs. The reprieve was so overwhelming, it took you a moment to gather your wits and answer Ari’s question.

“No, daddy, ‘m not bored at all,” you purred, using the new angle of your body to bounce your hips on the gearshift. The wet schlick sounds of your cunt fucking the knob filled the truck cab, and you let loose a low moan, the sound nearly muffled in Ari’s beard.

“Good girl,” he rasped, his hand squeezing your throat and moving you so he could see the pleasure dancing across your features. His gaze trailed down your body to where your ass was bouncing on his gear stick, his throat bobbing in front of your eyes as he swallowed thickly. “Good fucking girl.”

The look in his eye was nearly entranced and you couldn’t help but smirk a little to yourself. It had been a few seconds since he’d glanced at the road, and though you knew you were playing a dangerous game, you didn’t really think you’d cause Ari to crash his truck.

Probably.

“Fuck, daddy,” you whimpered, pouting your lips at your trucker and dragging his attention away from your ass. His darkening eyes fell to your lips, exactly like you wanted. “It’s so big inside me, my little pussy’s so full, daddy.” You batted your lashes at Ari, pleased to see his pupils dilate even more, until only a thin ring of blue remained.

“Christ, baby, you’re making me jealous of my fucking rig,” Ari groaned like he was in pain. His fingers dug into the sides of your neck while the hand that had been on the steering wheel moved to his cock. Your trucker used his knee to steer while he stroked himself in his fist. “Ya like your new boyfriend better than me?” Ari asked, something dangerous in his tone.

You almost giggled at the idea that you could like his truck’s gearshift better than his cock, but you bit the sound back knowing he was asking a serious question. Holding Ari’s gaze, you shook your head solemnly.

“No,” you said honestly. “Nothing’s better than your fat cock, daddy.” You trailed your fingers down Ari’s chest before wrapping them around the tip of his cock, both of you using your hands to stroke his hard length. “You fill me up so good, daddy, I love feeling you pump me full of your come.” You pressed a sweet kiss to his bearded cheek, the gesture so at odds with the filthiness of what you were both doing that it made it hotter.

“Fuck,” Ari ground out through clenched teeth. Then, something in him seemed to snap right before your eyes.

Suddenly, Ari’s hand was gone from around his cock. He gripped the wheel and swerved the truck to the side to pull onto the shoulder of the highway. The truck went half off the road, the bumpiness making you ride Ari’s gearshift harder, wringing a depraved moan from you that made his eyes flare with more wildness.

A thick cloud of dust swirled around the cab, but neither of you gave any thought to the fact that it would shield what you were about to do from everyone else on the road.

“In the back, baby,” your trucker growled, throwing on his hazards and reaching for his gearshift to put the rig in park.

For a second, Ari seemed stumped about what to do. Since the shifter was still buried in your pussy, he couldn’t grab it like he normally would. Instead, he opted to grab your hips in both hands and use your body to shift the truck into park.

A delicious shiver at the perverse obscenity of the action raced down your spine and you moaned loudly. There was something about Ari using your body as an extension of his truck that was so fucking hot, your mind went completely blank for a moment.

Then his hands released you and the need to be fucked rushed back into your body. Without thinking, you were tumbling forward, pulling yourself off the shifter with a whimper and crawling eagerly onto the cot in the back of the rig.

“Hope your new boyfriend loosened you up, fucktoy,” Ari growled as he followed you into the back, pushing you down onto your hands and knees at the edge of the bed. “Because I’m gonna use your cunt like it’s my own personal fleshlight.” He slapped your ass hard enough to make you jump and yelp before you relaxed back into position.

You were perched on the edge of the cot, your knees spread and back curved in an arch, head resting on your arms so your ass was up and on display for your trucker. Without any more warning, Ari slid his stiff, leaking cock into your slick, warm cunt.

Your trucker groaned loudly, the pleasured rumble warming your heart with pride as he buried his thick cock in your snug little pussy. A soft smile tugged at the edges of your mouth as Ari curled around you, covering your back with his chest, his hands reaching around to grope your tits through your cotton t-shirt.

“Christ, ya feel so fucking good, baby,” Ari growled, rolling his hips in tight circles, fucking you hard and fast.

The sound of your bodies clapping against each other drifted to your ears, adding to the pleasure gathering in a tight coil in your core. Your trucker’s face was pressed into the back of your neck, his breath hot and harsh against your skin, raising goosebumps all over your body.

“You’re still so fucking tight, cock slut,” Ari rasped, nipping at the underside of your jaw and making you clench down on his cock from even that brief bite of pain. “You were made to take my cock, weren’t ya, sweetheart—my cock and anything else I want, huh, kiddo?”

Ari’s husky chuckle and his degrading words ghosted over your cheek and you could do nothing else besides moan your response. You’d fuck anything he told you to fuck, riding his gearshift whenever he wanted, as long as he fucked you exactly like he was afterward. Ari’s cock filled you perfectly, like your body truly was made for him, the tip of him grinding against your cervix and making you see stars.

It seemed Ari didn’t need you to answer his question, because he went on speaking filth in your ear, one of his hands wrapping around your throat and choking you while the other groped your tits and plucked at your nipples.

“Ya gonna come on daddy’s dick, sweetheart?” he taunted, his tone mean and cruel and so cold it made your desire flare hotter. “Gonna cream all over your filthy trucker’s fat cock even after I made you fuck my gear stick, baby?”

Your lips moved, forming words before you could force them off your tongue. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, daddy,” you whispered, riding the edge of your release. Ari’s cock pummeled your cunt, pounding so deep you could feel him in your throat, and it was almost enough. “Please, daddy,” you cried, needing just a bit more stimulation to push you over.

Ari grunted in your ear, “Alright, kiddo,” before reaching between your thighs and finding your clit, slippery with your wetness. His thick fingers rubbed the aching nub and it was exactly what you needed.

With a piercing cry, you tumbled headfirst into an ocean of pleasure, your body going tight and taut as the coil in your core snapped, warm bliss flooding through you. Your cunt gripped Ari’s cock, choking his thick dick in a vise that made him groan viciously.

Your trucker rutted into you furiously, finding his release moments later. He buried his cock deep inside you and came, grunting his pleasure as he emptied his balls in your cunt. You moaned softly at the feeling of his hard length twitching inside you. His low groan as your cunt wrung every drop of seed from his dick filled you with satisfaction.

For a long moment, you and Ari savored the pleasure of your bodies together, but it couldn’t last. Your trucker didn’t linger—he couldn’t, not with his truck idling on the side of the highway.

Once he’d caught his breath, Ari pressed a rough kiss to your cheek before pulling out of you and shuffling up to the front. He collapsed into the driver’s seat while you fell onto your side, your eyes watching as he grabbed the gearshift and put the truck back in drive to pull back onto the highway.

Your eyelids were heavy with exhaustion, but you kept them open long enough to catch Ari licking your juices from his palm. An unmistakeable groan rumbled deep in your trucker’s chest when he tasted you and your pussy gave a week throb in response. Too tired to move, you smiled and sank into the waiting arms of the sleep that called to you.

However, Ari’s snapping fingers dragged you back into the world of the waking.

“Get up here and clean up your mess, kiddo,” Ari ordered, his voice gruff and stern.

There was a warmth to his tone that you recognized as the satisfaction you’d given him by making him come, and you couldn’t help smiling at your own pleased pride. But his words were a command all the same, and you knew what you had to do.

Gathering your strength, you hauled yourself up from the cot and shifted onto your knees between the two seats. You leaned into the gearshift and began licking your slick from the leather, turning your head enough to catch Ari’s eye. He wore a satisfied smirk, reaching down to pet your head as you did what he’d told you.

Humming happily, you smiled and cleaned up the gearshift like the good girl you wanted to be for your trucker. By the time you were done, the sun was low in the sky. The golden light in the truck had darkened into a fiery glow, and you felt the tug of sleep more insistently.

Ari chuckled when he noticed you were half-asleep and still licking his gearshift. He helped you into his lap, guiding you down onto his cock to keep him warm while he continued driving.

You fell asleep against your trucker’s chest, happy and satisfied, the restlessness that had plagued you earlier in the afternoon having been finally subdued by Ari.

Still, you’d discovered what Ari would do if you booped his nose, and you tucked that knowledge away, saving it for a rainy day when you were inevitably bored again. He was a truck driver after all, there were bound to be more boring days on the road. But you knew your trucker would make sure you were entertained—by making you entertain him.

trucker king masterlist

#good fucking LORD #molly im suing you #dont know what for but its bc of this trucker series 🥵🥵🥵🥵#ari levinson x reader #trucker ari levinson #trucker au #witchywithwhiskeywork #witchywithwhiskey #b&n boost #bucks & noble boost

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Down This Chain of Days - Chapter 4 / Day 585: Dieter Bravo x reader time loop rom com

Title: Down This Chain of Days - Chapter 4: Day 585

Author: @ghotifishreads

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Word count: 7.1K

Series Masterlist // CH3 // CH5 coming soon

Chapter summary: Dieter is left to his own devices again as you strike out on your to attempt escape.

Warnings: Includes suicidal ideation and discussion, plus actual suicides (that don’t stick because it’s a time loop) and really glib attitudes about them, on a par with the films Groundhog’s Day or Palm Springs. Drinking. Alcohol as a coping mechanism. Seriously, so much drinking. Drug use mentioned, and they take mushrooms. PinV sex. Violence never too gory or overtly described, but includes various characters experiencing the following (here be spoilers): shot with a crossbow; falls and breaks teeth; hit by a car; commits or experiences vehicular manslaughter; tased by a cop; blows self up with explosives.

Reader is mentioned as being older than her 20s, exact age is unspecified. Reader wears a long purple dress, and has hair but type and length are not mentioned. No other physical description is applied.

Please do reach out and let me know if I’ve left anything out that should be included in the warnings.

A/N: In the headers, the first “Day” is Reader’s and the one after the “/” are Dieter’s days. (You’ll see when you get there.)

The whole plot of this fic follows the film, but I’ve tried to rewrite it. This near-final act is probably the most heavily lifted from the movie directly. So any good quips or lines are probably from the film, and, to avoid spoilers up top, at the end of the chapter I’ll highlight any particular lines or sections that are relevent.

Unbeta’d. Title from the song At Last by Neko Case. Header by me, featuring main photo of Dieter by @ozarkthedog and dividers by @firefly-graphics.

🔞Over 18s only, minors dni! 🔞 I do not give permission for my work to be republished, reposted, or translated.

[Day 585 // Day 15,188]

Dieter wakes up to Misty’s sickeningly sweet and forced breathy coo of “Good morning,” as she lotions her legs at the foot of the bed. Again. For the millionth time.

Just like every morning since he’s known you’re here, Dieter can’t even be bothered to have a mediocre farewell fuck with her. He just wants to find you.

But after your cop-baiting and existential freak out ‘yesterday’, you’re missing.

Dieter interrogates your family but they don’t know where you are, except you didn’t merely wake up early---your bed hasn’t even been slept in.

[Day 586 // Day 15,189]

Dieter wanders the desert at the yet-to-be revealed cave mouth, calling your name.

JT must be feeling nihilistic and raging with existential angst again—more likely feeling incensed after the whole you hitting him with a car-–because he comes and shoots Dieter with the crossbow again.

Hits him straight in the intestine this time.

It wasn’t even 2pm yet, but Dieter is grateful for the excuse to drag himself belly-first to the rock and wait for oblivion when the cave opens in an hour.

JT doesn’t come and put him out of his misery either, that bastard.

Dieter feels the punishment of bleeding out with his digestive tract exposed and carrion-ready is appropriate for lying to you.

It makes for an artfully classical tableau of suffering, and it’s exactly how he fucking feels.

A payment towards the red in his cosmic ledger for not being honest with you, and to hurt the one person who knows exactly what he’s going through.

JT doesn’t count.

[Day 590 // Day 15,193]

He goes to the house of the presumed vacationers. Opens cabinets in every room.

She’s not in the fucking IKEA wardrobe, you idiot.

He sinks to the bottom of the swimming pool and opens his mouth, giving into the pool blue oblivion of drowning, rather than bother driving back to the hotel.

[Days 599-637 // Days 15,199 - 15,240]

He hears Misty coo a sickly sweet, “Good morning,” and he smells her expensively perfumed lotion before he opens his eyes.

Ad nauseam.

But he'd had respite, because you’re here too. Except now he can’t find you anywhere.

The days always blurred together in this place before, but with you gone it’s way worse.

Dieter thinks of his time in the loop now schismed: BY (Before You) and AY (After You). This excludes the third section of DY (During You). When he was in the thick, glorious stream of the During You phase, he had no reason to worry about AY. He thought he was living a sequel, not a trilogy.

He had a playmate. Like those creepy ass twins in The Shining, you were going to stay and play forever and ever and ever…

Now you keep leaving him. Every day. He can't rouse himself earlier than Misty and her body lotion to catch you, those are the fucking rules.

So, he keeps shortening the days by killing himself. That gets old quickly because for weeks and weeks, you still don’t turn up. Of course she’s fucking sulking, Dieter thinks petulantly to himself.

He reverses tact and tries driving longer distances in loops to see if he can find you. You can only go as far as he can in this single, endless day, he reasons.

[Day 638 / Day 15,241]

He tries Austin several times, to see if he can get to your place, but he never can work out your address, no matter how many times he tries to sneak your stepmom’s phone away from her. He always forgets until he’s halfway there, or is unsuccessful and 19 hours later just driving around the streets of Austin, hollering your name out of his rental car window. (He always wanted to play in Streetcar, and here’s his Brando ‘Stellaaaaa!’ moment.) He never finds you.

Instead, he falls asleep: behind the wheel of the car, once falling out and rolling into the street, limbs painfully colliding with pavement for a moment too long before unconsciousness hits. He loses track of how many drives to Austin he white knuckles on caffeine or cocaine or amphetamines or other stimulants before he gives up.

[Day 692 / Day 15,295]

You’re ghosting him and Dieter knows it because every day he’s haunted by the specter of you, perched on top of him that last night together. That first night you both knew that you were going to have to face an eternity of tomorrows after sleeping together.

How you'd come, and looked like a fucking goddess.

The way that each and every time before that he's given you an orgasm in your previous encounters, before you were lumbered with him here, he was so numb into just whiling away the time that he wished he’d paid more attention to every moan and coo you’d given him.

But that last night?

In the haze of the lantern light and the yellow nylon glow of the tent?

He wants to hold that picture in his mind, and never lose it. Film reel set in protected flame-proof case in the vault. Preserved for posterity.

You'd fully given yourself to him.

(You'd enthusiastically consented the other times too--Dieter wasn't a total Hollywood asshole, he wasn't gonna fuck anyone who didn't want him to.)

He conceded that seeing dinosaurs wasn’t the most cosmic, transcendental experience he had that night. It was watching you come while you rode him and bucked your sweet slippery clit against his roughed fingertip when he was buried to the hilt inside you.

He sees you in the kaleidoscope of days, prisms of every facet of your face. The way you perked up when you thought a simple good deed could get you out of this hell day. You, emerging from the pool, eyelashes clumping with pool water and a triumphant smile on your face because you’d finally beaten him at holding your breath. The unimpeded brightness of your grin when you’d presented his millionth birthday surprise. How awed and wondrous and sweet and indispensable your face to him looked when he’d pointed out the distant moving dinosaurs.

He sets up the tent, takes mushrooms to conjure dinosaurs, but they never appear. All that happens is that he has a wank that ends in a cry in the tent, alone and without your real smell.

Even though he’s stolen your hair perfume from your room to spray on the sleeping bag, it can’t compare. He falls asleep restlessly, shorts tacky with his cooling cum, and the corners of his eyes saline-salty with drying tear tracks.

[Day 857 / Day 15,460]

The audacity of knowing he’ll wake up only to the sickeningly sweet scent of Misty’s body lotion and no sign of you emboldens Dieter to smuggle crystal meth onto a plane again. He makes it all the way to South Africa before forgetting to take stimulants and falling asleep.

He didn’t necessarily think you’d go to those extremes to find a way out. But varying his days had gotten harder since you left.

He’d been wrong to assume purgatory couldn’t get any worse. The reality was he could turn it into the lowest circle of hell with one act of betrayal.

[Day 872 / Day 15,475]

Dieter’s sunk to a new personal low, at least in The Day — hanging out with the groomsmen the night of the wedding.

Drowning himself in the pool felt less subterranean than this.

Their cocaine was dog shit (Aunt Beatrice was an angel and a rock star, he’d decided), and he turns it down when they offer him some.

He consoles himself by sitting on the bed while everyone gets shitfaced, nursing his own beer. He’s not really part of the gang, but his fame and proximity to Misty wrangled an invite. La de da.

The other men’s banter is a mere droning background noise.

Dieter finishes his beer, plumps up the pillow he’s been leaning against and lays down on the bed.

That smell.

He’d recognise it anywhere.

“Bright Crystal. By Chevalier,” he whispers to himself. Ignoring the way his heart palpitates and his cock stirs in his swim trunks at the scent of you.

“Hey!” Dieter’s call startles the other men, who’d ignored him once they realized Dieter Bravo Film Star™️ wasn’t going to be the life of the party.

“Which of you guys slept here last night?”

“None of us, man. Abe took it. Maria went all traditional, ‘don’t see the bride the night before the wedding,’” the rhinestone cowboy officiant says. Dieter is eternally grateful to him for taking Misty off his hands.

Now Dieter knows without a doubt, why you hate this day.

He walks out of Abe’s room, clutching the pillow that smells of you, and straight into the reception where everyone gets seated for the speeches.

—

Dieter has a game plan. It’s not the healthiest, but he’s going to do it.

He strides onto the dance floor and uses the actor’s vocal projection he hasn’t used for many years since his theater days. “Abe, you slick motherfucker!”

Abe startles, and all eyes turn to Dieter as he crosses the dance floor to the groom. “No wonder she hates herself. She wakes up next to you every single day!”

Maria looks displeased and scoffs, “I don’t hate my husband,” she leans heavily into the new title.

He throws the pillow at Maria, “Not you hating him. Smell that.”

Maria’s eyebrow archs in confusion, but she obeys. “What am I-”

“What do you smell?!” Dieter prompts.

“Hair perfume. I got it for my sister for her birthday.”

Dieter paces and grandstands like a defense lawyer making a final argument to a jury, “And Maria, can you tell us the name of that hair perfume?”

“Bright Crystal. By Chevalier,” she answers, still stock still like everyone as this madman hijacks the wedding reception.

Dieter spins around, addressing the room at large. Gregory Peck, eat your heart out.

“Anyone else here wear the hair perfume “Bright Crystal by Chevalier?” The guests are silent.

Dieter wheels back around to Maria, “That pillow is from Abe’s room. It smells like your sister because Abe slept with your sister last night.”

Maria’s head whips to look at her groom.

“J'accuse, Abe!” Deiter exclaims, woven bracelet and rings clattering as he points to the unfaithful groom. “You cheated on your fiancé the night before your wedding. With her sister? Dude, you’re the worst!”

Abe’s eyes widen at Dieter and he refuses to look at Maria as her tremoring voice questions, “Babe? Are you serious?”

Abe crumples instantly. “It was just a huge drunken mistake, and I was missing you, and your sister was consoling me and it just…I didn’t mean to and I’ve never done it before and I’ll never do it again-”

Maria bursts into tears.

Your dad stands, his stern look leveled at his new son-in-law. “Abe – let’s take a walk.”

Abe stands. But instead of following your dad, he launches himself at Dieter, tackles him into a table. The men skitter and slide across the sleek dance floor, to the gasps of the other guests and the echoes of Maria sobbing and being escorted away by Misty.

Dieter’s back is not equipped for fights unchoreographed by stunt coordinators. Abe is built like a fucking linebacker and has 15 years of being younger than Dieter on his side.

His Crocs scrabble for purchase on the parquet dance floor, one even slips off, but he’s scrappy and reaches blindly behind him into the detritus on the table.

His hand closes around a fork and swings it up towards Abe’s face.

Abe screams.

“Did you stab me with a fork?!”

Dieter would feel bad, but it gets Abe off him, and Abe is a cheater who hurt you and your sister in one fell swoop, and he won’t ever even remember getting stabbed with a fork, so Dieter doesn’t give a shit.

He runs out to the cave with one bare foot, and crawls into the light.

[Day 876 / Day 15,479]

Today, Dieter lets Abe and Maria get married without incident. You’re still missing.

He drinks himself into sullen silence at the reception. It’s only when he spies JT walking up to the dancefloor that Dieter gets skittish.

“I come in peace,” JT says, the older man flashes a ‘V’ peace sign.

“Uh, hey man,” Dieter says, nervously sipping his whisky. “Haven’t seen you around for a while.”

“Didn’t do my blood pressure any good chasing after you. ‘Sides, you were always off with your girl. Got harder to track you. And she didn’t deserve being traumatized, she already got trapped in here by you. Same boat as me, really.”

Dieter’s throat feels thick as he swallows. “Thanks?”

“You’re welcome.”

The men drink in silence.

“Where’d she go by the way? Your girl?”

“Oh, she’s not my girl. As evidenced by her never being around me,” Dieter waves his whisky tumblr in the air around him, indicating your absence.

JT kisses his teeth. “Oh, you’re so far gone, you don’t even know you’ve left.”

“What?” Dieter knows he sadly hasn’t done any ‘substances’ today. Just steadily drinking at a rate so slow he’s not even buzzed. He’s painfully aware of his own relative soberness.

“Despite how low my opinion of you is,” JT continues, “You’re not actually an idiot. You know what I mean.”

“Uh, yeah, I don’t, actually-” JT reaches across the table and clamps Dieter’s lips shut.

“You know exactly what I mean. And right now, you’re so fucking miserable that hunting you wouldn’t even be fun. You’re like a wounded animal, there’s no real sport in it.“

Dieter pulls away from JT’s grasp and sips more whisky in lieu of a response.

“Whatever, asshole, pretend you don’t know what I mean about your girl. At least you have each other. Nothing worse than going through this shit alone, I’m telling you.”

In this life and the last, Dieter is well acquainted with slow misery. Death that feels like a sweet indulgence.

JT commiserating with him over your absence hits him as a bigger loss than having to drink with the groomsman.

[Day 585 / Day 15,188]

“I’m getting out of this day,” you tell Dieter and run to the sweet oblivion of the semi-truck obliteration.

–

You wake up in a hotel room that isn’t yours to the sound of the running shower. Today, you resolve to initiate change.

You burst into the bathroom on Abe. He shrieks and backs against the shower wall.

“We’re very shitty, Abe. Maria is a good person and a good sister and a good girlfriend and soon-to-be-wife. She didn’t deserve that. And we deserve every shitty thing that comes to us. But me? I’m done being shitty.”

Abe’s face crumples and he wails, “That was shitty! I’m a cheater, just like my dad–”

You back slowly away. Abe isn’t your problem. “Yeah, I’m gonna go…” And you slink you, leaving the linebacker-sized man clutching a bar of soap and sobbing.

You steal your dad’s laptop (he’s always working, even on the weekend of his daughter’s wedding) and drive to a diner.

You use the free wifi to access what you need.

Online courses in quantum physics.

[Day 592 / Day 15,195]

You’d passed your university physics class with a B+. Quantum physics couldn’t be that different, right?

By the end of the first week, you want to tear your hair out. But you keep watching lectures.

Evolve or stagnate. Be free or die. At least your soul would perish here, if not your body.

You flag down the waitress for another coffee, and pop your headphones back in to hunker down and restart the lecture video from the beginning.

[Day 602 / Day 15,205]

You find a used academic bookstore. They’re pretty far away, it takes you 2 hours to get there and buy the workbooks and textbooks you need, and another hour to get to the diner. But you do it, and start to supplement your online lecture series.

You’re going to understand this time loop if it kills you.

What the multiverse is. How time is constructed. How the planets move through space. Or at least through the cave. Why time travel hasn’t been invented yet in any real way.

But mostly, you’re gonna figure out why that fucking crack in the ground and the earthquake and the light in the cave have thrown you into a never-ending loop of the same day.

What's sentenced you to be forever adrift in the amber of this day with Dieter Bravo? (And JT.)

And how you can use that information to escape.

[Day 638 / Day 15,241]

Dieter never turns up at the diner when you’re there. So much for meaningful connections. He must not even be looking for you.

You also don’t tell him what you’re up to, convinced he’s lost that privilege.

He can return to his ceaseless, consequenceless bacchanalian fuckfest for all you care.

Good riddance.

[Day 642 / Day 15,245]

Understanding your escape route dawns and takes root. You know, theoretically, how you might be able to use the cave and the rift of light therein to fix this.

You need more research.

[Day 758 / Day 15,361]

You’ve taken readings of the cave. Electromagnetic, radiographic. Distance. Time.

You’ve conducted Zoom calls with world-class experts in quantum physics, to bounce your ideas off of.

You know your shit.

You visit the goat, penned at the edge of a farm not so far from the cave, just like Dieter said.

You kneel down into the dirt, lean your weight against the loose, jackleg fence.

“Hey, sweet girl,” you coo softly. “We’re gonna need to make friends.”

[Day 857 / Day 15,460]

Your head is so full it’s going to explode.

You don’t remember what your job was before this day. Your life in Austin feels like a hundred thousand lifetimes ago.

Closer is The Day(s) you passed with Dieter.

When you remember Dieter’s face—smug and smirking when floating poolside, awed when watching the dinosaurs, pleading and open when you sunk onto his cock and kissed him–sometimes, the crack in the ground outside the cave feels like it’s grafted onto your heart.

You’d have a panic attack if you let that feeling slither up around you and have its way.

You fight the urge to see him in the mornings. He’s just down the hall, it would be so easy.

You let the monomaniacal drive to get the fuck out take the wheel in those moments.

Easy doesn’t get you home.

Besides, if he was looking for you, he’d find you.

There’s only so far either of you can get in one day.

[Day 876 / Day 15,479]

Getting sucked into a never-changing time loop telescopes one’s perspective of what’s possible.��

In your wildest dreams you never imagined hanging out with Dieter Bravo, film star. Your dreams weren’t inclined to celebrity meet-cutes anyway.

You’d also never thought of yourself as the type to actively seek out destructive behavior.

The purgatory of this day told you that just because your normal life didn’t include you hitting cops with cars or hurtling yourself out of a plane with no parachute, that didn’t mean you weren’t being reckless with yourself and uncaring of those around you.

Your existential crisis was in full effect long before Dieter Bravo’s big brown cow eyes and that fucking cave.

Having a purpose these past few months–or is it years now?--had been motivating.

To have the opportunity to drag yourself out of your self-loathing and your mistake of betraying your sister and sleeping with Abe. A kamikaze move if ever there was one.

You’re not the praying type, but you hope that if this works, Maria never finds out. Not to protect your reputation with her, yours is already less than sterling with your family.

You just don’t want to see your sister hurt. She doesn’t deserve that.

“...Nobody deserves that, right? And so, in short, that’s why you’re here.” You look at Bessie as you speak.

Bessie is what you’ve named the goat.

Perhaps it's futile to name her when you intend to blow her up.

All that is to say, even as your endless chain of days with Dieter reframed what you thought was going to be possible for you, strapping C4 to a goat, or indeed any animal, was not ever what you’d have put on your bingo card. Even the Time Loop Purgatory Edition.

“OK, Bessie. I love you. If this doesn’t work, the day will reset, and you won’t even know this happened. OK girl?” You rub the animal’s head affectionately. “And if it does work? Well you’re even better than Laika the dog. Cuz Laika only went into space.”

You lean your head against the goat’s neck. Bessie doesn’t smell great.

“If this works, I think you’re gonna go through a rift in the fabric of time itself, and that’s way more special.”

You stand, and lead Bessie down to the cave with the rope lead.

[Day 878 / Day 15,481 ]

Dieter hears a woman’s voice before he opens his eyes, just like every morning in this hellscape.

Today, it’s not Misty.

“Wake up, Dieter,” you say, like the answer to all of his prayers.

Dieter's eyes snap open. No Misty, no cloying body lotion.

You’re casually seated at the edge of his bed. Not a dream, though you look like one come true, and not a mirage.

“Hey,” he sits up. Wanting to look good, he rubs sleep out of his eyes, and pats a hand through his hair, only tousling his bed-head to further dishevelment. “You’re here.”

“Yup.” Your answer is simple and your gaze strong and unwavering.

“You look…amazing.” He leans forward, eager to be close to you again.

“Well. I can’t age,” you say, shrugging matter-of-factly.

A frantic knock rattles the door. “You can’t lock me out of my own room, let me in!” Misty’s whine comes muffled through the door. You both ignore her.

“So. How have you been?” you ask, as if you’re acquaintances who bumped into each other at Starbucks.

“Oh man, so bad,” Dieter answers reflexively.

You’re taken aback, cock your head and sit back.

“I mean, no, I’m fine,” Dieter scrambles to put a cheery spin on his answer. Then he exhales. Scrubs the heels of his palms into his eye sockets and rubs his hair again.

“No, actually, I’m fucking terrible. That’s how I’ve been. With you gone.”

You sit on the bed, expression inscrutable, and he launches into the apology speech he’s thought about for many, many days.

“I just want to say I’m really, really sorry for lying, and for not telling you about our history together. It makes perfect sense that you’re so mad, and why you had to stay away for so long. But it was, like, really fucking long. And I missed you, so bad. And I’m glad you’re back now. And if we could just, like, start again? That would be amazing?”

He ducks his head and unleashes the big brown baby cow eyes. You wonder how you ever could have thought he was always tricking you or callow. He had so many tells: the way he skirted around the sex talk when you asked him outright, the way he can’t dissemble even though he pretends to convincingly be someone else for a living.

Dieter Bravo may have been a blustering ego maniac. But Damián Baca was a terrible liar who broadcast his emotions unbidden on his expressive face.

“I mean. That’s if you do forgive me?” he winces.

You smile softly. You think you’d forgiven him the first day you sat in that diner without him and felt his absence like a stone in your guts.

“You’re totally forgiven.”

Dieter’s smile blooms along with the warmth in your heart.

“Are you done now? Cuz I think I found a way out.”

–

He doesn’t really understand if he’s honest. You drew him a diagram on your bathroom mirror in lipstick. It was a very good diagram.

You’re fired up and passionate and confident when you explain about the box of energy. He could watch you talk about this ‘escaping the loop’, and about time, and about the cave, for until forever. It’s not clicking for him, but he trusts you and your expertise.

“...So by ‘escaping the box’ you mean what exactly?”

“We blow ourselves up in the cave during that window just as the loop resets. Detonating the C4 at the exact right moment will propel us out.”

“Out to where though?”

“That I haven’t worked out. Could be today, tomorrow. Could be 40 years from now. We could be dead under rubble in a cave. That’s why it’s a theory. But, we need to try,” you disappear into the bathroom.

Dieter’s unsure. Being dead in a cave doesn’t sound like fun. Although C4 is one of the few ways he hasn’t tried to kill himself in the loop. He’s always game for new pain.

“Do we, though? This could be your whole ‘good deed’ all over again.”

You emerge, dressed in your purple maid of honor dress. “Nope. Totally different. I’ve tested this theory.”

Now Dieter’s really confused. “How?”

“The goat. The cave goat? I sent her into the cave and blew her up. She hasn’t come back. Wherever she is, it’s not inside this day anymore,” you eyes are wild with excitement as you close in on Dieter.

His hands urge to reach for you, but you turn abruptly. “Can you zip me up?” He does, fingertips lingering at the bare skin of your mid-back as he lets the zipper pull drop.

“I’m gonna try it myself. Tonight,” you spin back around. “Let’s get through the rest of this day without doing any wacky shit. Keep it as uneventful as if we have to face tomorrow—the real tomorrow–and then we can peace the fuck outta here.”

Dieter smells your hair perfume and sees your eager face before him and he wasn’t sure he knew the feeling of yearning before, but he sure as shit does now.

“Dunno. Sounds…dangerous. Maybe you should run more tests.” He follows you to sit on the couch while you put on your shoes.

You level him with a look. “We’ve been here long enough. More than long enough. Dee, are you scared to leave?”

He scoffs, but the face of displeasure he pulls is unsubtle. “No. I just don’t want to leave. There’s a difference.”

“What’s the difference?”

“I wanna stay. With you.” You look at him as if he’s crazy.

The ball of nerves in his stomach, he’ll just have to push past. He needs to say what he wanted to say every day since you’d gone, and most of the days before that.

“I love you, ok?”

“What?” you intone flatly.

This is not the response Dieter was hoping for. He knew you were justifiably pissed, but you’d come back all zen and one with the universe through science. He thought you’d be more receptive.

You balk instead. “Look, I don't know what you think I want from you, but you don't have to say that to me.”

“I know I don’t have to say that to you. I want to say it,” Dieter rises to his feet, emphatic. “I’ve wanted to say it for so fucking long now. Before the dinosaurs!” He paces. “Out there, it’s dog shit. A world of death and poverty and obligation. But in here? We get to be together, and do whatever we want!”

Shoes buckled, you stand to meet Dieter’s eye. “But this isn’t real. Everything we do in here is meaningless,” you say.

“By your own admission, things weren’t going so great for you out there.” Dieter watches your hackles rise, your spine going rigid as you think he used your confidences against him. No more lying by admission. Rip off the band-aid, Bravo.

“I know about you and Abe. Back out there? That’s a whole new mess to clean up. But if we never leave, you never have to face that!”

Your face crumples. “How do you know about that?”

Dieter pauses, then steps towards you. Slowly, like you’re a horse he could spook. “Bright Crystal. By Chevalier. But! It’s fine. I don’t care about that.”

“Dieter,” your voice goes hollow and small. “I can’t keep waking up in there.”

“Just ignore it!”

“No, Dieter!” you snap and he recoils. You take a deep breath, and look at the ground to steel yourself, and start again, quieter. “I need my life back.”

You muster enough strength to look at Dieter. “I’m asking if you want to leave this endless, meaningless place, and come with me. Move forward. Together.”

Dieter steps towards you, fingers twitching against his palms as he fights the itch to touch you. “And I’m saying ‘no.’ But! I’m counter-offering with asking you to stay. With me.”

–

You watch as Dieter steps into your space. He gathers your hands into his, and you stare at the dark spreading ink of his bullseye tattoo as his thumbs stroke the back of your fingers. “Please stay.”

You look into his eyes. You don’t know how he lied to you for so long. His whole heart is written on his face.

Tears start to blur your vision. You release his hands.

You hug him.

“Goodbye, Dieter,” you whisper in his ear, relishing the last time you’ll be pressed against him.

–

Your legs shake as you walk down the hallway to your sister’s bridal suite after hugging Dieter goodbye.

You thought he’d come with you. The pain in your chest when he said no sits heavy on your sternum.

Especially when his alternative offer was so easy, so appealing. Endless days playing with Dieter. Never facing your mistakes.

Except you were forced to wake up inside your mistake every day here.

You thought he could see the same vision. After all this time, and his apology, that he’d want what you did. Waking up tangled in the tent together, as well as the fucking and seeing dinosaurs.

You can hardly blame him for taking the path of least resistance.

–

You walk down the aisle at your sister’s wedding. You watch Maria marry Abe, the earthquake rumbling right on time before their “I do”s.

When your dad calls you up for your speech, you finally feel ready to make it. All you’d needed was a couple years of soul-searching to prepare.

You confidently take the mic from your dad.

“I used to wake up with nightmares, when I was a kid. After which, I’d often find little Maria asleep in my bed. She’d come in, heard me crying and snuggled me. She was like, 5 years old. I never had another nightmare with she stayed with me.”

You stop addressing the room at large and turn to your sister. “Maria, you have selflessness and hopefulness that’s special and very rare. Especially because you share it freely with so many people in your life.”

Maria beams at you, tears welling in both your eyes. Your throat starts to constrict with emotion, but it’s easy to say the next part, because its true gives you hope. “Big sisters are supposed to teach baby sisters. I will today and forever be learning from you.”

“And now. Abe–” you hold the mic down at your side, and fix your sister’s new husband with what you hope is a scary glare as you mouth to him alone, “Don’t fuck this up.”

“I won’t,” he promises. And you believe him. You nod curtly and raise the mic back to address the room.

“Maria and Abe, may you have a long and happy life together, and fight through all of life’s nightmares together.”

Maria jumps up and rushes to your side, and you embrace. “You smell so good, was I right about the hair perfume or what?” she says, making you laugh. “Love you, big sis.”

You squeeze her even tighter, “I love you too.”

—

You watch guests dance at the reception. You drink wine, though you’ve had so much less today than usual. If this is Maria and Abe’s real wedding, the one that sticks, you don’t want to miss a moment of it.

You nearly cry watching your dad spin your stepmom on the dance floor; snort to watch Misty start making out with the rhinestone cowboy right in front of everyone at the wedding party top table (Dieter’s absence from the day’s proceedings seems to have not phased her); watch with a sweet ache in your heart as your cousin’s 5-year-old daughter falls asleep in his arms as they twirl around the dance floor.

It was worth being present for, even if parts of it hurt. Dieter’s absence, being number one with a bullet.

As you watch the spectacle of life playing out before you, that unidentified woman in her 80s comes toddling up to you.

“That was a lovely speech, dear,” she said, much like she’d complimented Dieter that first day eons ago.

“Oh, thank you,” you say.

“I’ve been to a lot of weddings, and truly, that was one of the best speeches. Can I give you a hug?”

You agree and as her arms come around you, you can’t help but think, This does feel nice, like Dieter said.

She unravels from the hug and smiles.

“Well, I suppose you’ll be going now soon, right? Good luck with it all.” You gasp and she squeezes your hand and winks, before wandering off against the edge of the dancefloor.

–

Dieter drowns the sorrow of your rejection at the dive bar.

“I felt everything I’ll ever feel so I’ll never need to feel anything ever again,” he laments to Steve the bar tender. “I thought I knew how to live. But I didn’t. I still don’t.”

“Whatever you’re after man, it ain’t here.” Steve indicates to the shabby room that is Lagoon Lounge.

Dieter knows it. Your face, that’s all he sees.

“Oh my god,” he stands, the bar stool clattering to the floor in his haste. “Steve, you’re totally right! I’m an idiot.”

“No shit.”

Dieter kisses his teeth. “Mean. Can I borrow your car, Steve?” The actor starts to round the edge of the bar.

“Hell no. You’ve been drinking and I don’t trust you.”

“Ah. Shame.” Dieter grabs Steve’s face, kisses him on the forehead, and in the bar tender’s stunned state, loops his keys out of his jeans pocket before running like hell to the parking lot.

His heart flying, Dieter floors it back towards the resort.

With only half a mile to go to his destination, Dieter hears a tire pop, and guides the car to a juddering slow against the side of the road.

“What the fuck?! No! No no no no!” he bangs on the steering wheel in time with his distraught cries. Steve's truck rolls to a halt.

Dieter hops out of the truck cab and starts to run.

–

The mysterious old lady who is probably not related to Abe was right. It was time for you to go.

You don’t bother changing out of your bridesmaid dress, just go to your room where you’d stashed the utility belt loaded with C4 and head out.

Now, you stand at the mouth of the glowing cave, C4 strapped in a band across your shoulder and hip like a David’s Bridal Rambo, detonator button in hand, ready to face your destiny.

Before you gaze into the face of destiny, from behind the rock outcropping, a yowling like that of a wounded cat pierces the veil of the steady rumbling in the cave.

It’s not a wild animal.

Well, not exactly.

It’s Dieter, yelling your name between panting breaths. “Wait, fuck, ouch,” he scrambles across the landscape, running a little pathetically and further hindered by his Crocs, the shoes ill-suited for the activity and the terrain.

He hobbles the last few feet until he’s standing in front of you.

“What are you doing here, Dieter? I’m doing this. You can’t stop me, I-”

“I’m not going to stop you,” his chest heaves under his tropical shirt. He’s worse for the wear from the running, his chest and face damp and glistening faintly with sweat. “You were right!”

“Go on.”

He gathers your hands in his. “You’re right. I was scared to leave. But. I’m not anymore. From the moment I saw you, before I even entered this endless day–”

“Stop, Dieter,” you tug your hand from his grasp, putting it up to stop him. “I don’t want another one of your speeches, OK?”

He’s taken aback. Mouth gawping like a fish out of water at being silenced. It physically pains him not to speak.

You huff out a sigh. “Fine. You get ten more seconds.”

“Right. OK. OK. I pretend not to be, but I realize I’m completely codependent. I’m cool with that, because I realize now that life should be shared. And I need you to survive.”

Big words, empty promises. “That’s your ten seconds,” you say, turning to the cave.

“No, wait, please!” You stop.

“I’ll be quick, just let me finish,” Dieter pauses. “Those aren’t words I usually say.”

You huff a laugh in spite of yourself.

Dieter shakes his head. “I know you. Better than anyone knows you. I’ve been to the end of time with you. We saw fucking dinosaurs! And I’d do it all again. And again. And we have!”

He takes your hand again. “And I still want to.”

His brow furrows, his eyes search your face expectantly. He wants a reply, but you don’t know what he’s trying to say.

“I’m literally the only other person in here with you. I’m the only one you can call to hang out in this existential crisis.”

“JT’s here too. And I don’t want to be with him. At all,” Dieter shivers like he’s being forced to spend eternity with JT. “But you? I never wanna stop hanging out. It’s insane odds for the person you fall in love with to be one of the two other people stuck in a time loop with you. But you know what else is crazy fuckin’ odds? Getting stuck in a time loop!”

You still haven’t let go of his hand. Dieter takes this as a win. “This whole thing is totally crazy. This day. That we’re here together. And you make me crazy, in the best way! You’re funny and sometimes completely infuriating–”

“Like Misty?”

“What? No,” Dieter scoffs. “Misty never infuriated me, not once. She bored me from the start. Even when we had days we just floated in that pool, you never bored me.”

“Dee,” you softly insist. “I can’t keep idling the same day away in here. A part of me is dying from hurting Maria, from stagnating. Even if I love spending time with you.”

Dieter cheers silently to himself. It’s not an I love you but you used the word ‘love’ in relation to him. Even this smallest victory keeps him afloat.

“I get it. Idling my time away with Misty before this day, felt like wasting it. Idling the days away with you? An eternity of doing that? Sounds like a really appealing way to spend my life.”

Like your days have been, this conversation feels circuitous. “What are you saying, Dee?”

“I want to come with you. To the real world again. I’m sorry I was so stupid and said, ‘no’ before.” His fucking plaintive face. How could you deny him this? Or anything?

“But what if we get sick of each other? Out there,” you gesture to the cave with a nod of your head.

Dieter’s shoulders drop, and those crow’s feet you’re so fond of now crumple along with his beaming smile. “We’re already sick of each other. It’s the best.”

Your grin bursts open to match his, cheeks hurting with glee as you watch him.

“Look, I hope blowing ourselves up works,” Dieter says, bringing his other hand to cup your face. “But if not? It’s irrelevant to me. As long as I’m with you. Don’t get me wrong—I really hope we don’t die. But I’d rather die in this world with you than live in it without you.”

Dieter glances at the cave, its swirling light source and juncture of time setting a flame-like glow over you both. “And I’m fucking terrified. That big glowing ball of energy and light and the what fuck ever? Is scary. But going on in here, with no responsibilities and without you? That’s the worse fate.”

“You seem pretty sure about that.”

“You’re a sure thing. And I am,” Dieter’s jaw tightens with conviction.

You swallow, throat tightening. You aren’t a coward about this anymore. “I can survive fine without you, you know?”

“I know,” Dieter reassures you.

“But. There’s a chance that life could be less mundane with you in it.”

“‘Less mundane?’ That’s a super low bar, I can clear it. I can absolutely bring ‘less mundane’ to the party,” he nods eagerly.

You chuckle because you know he means to honor his word. “This would have been so much easier if you just stayed a real piece of shit like I thought you were, you know?”

“I know.”

The grin you give him bubbles up from your belly, flies over where your heart had a rift like the cave, a rift that’s flying shut with Dieter’s words. A smile that easily comes to match his own idiotically happy grin.

“OK,” you nod and steel yourself, gulping in a big steadying breath.

“Let’s see if we blow up and die,” you assert, starting to walk.

Dieter nods and scuttles after you to the heart of the cave.

“Did you really blow up a goat?” Dieter matches your stride, and twines his fingers with yours and squeezes tightly.

“Guess you’ll never know and have to trust me.”

“Cool,” Dieter says. He believes you but nervously clears his throat. “So, where should we go on our first real date when this for sure works?”

“Misty’s house.”

“Great, perfect answer. I hate you,” he grumbles, words laced with as much affection as when he previously professed his love in your hotel room.

You both stop and face the precipice of the great roaring ball of heat and light and moving energy that fills the back of the cave.

“Hey,” you tug Dieter to face you again with your linked hands. “In case I don’t see you again? I love you too.”

Dieter's answering smile is radiantly blinding, it all but eclipses the unrepenting energy mass you stand beside.

You step forward, press your fingertips to his sternum with the hand not holding the detonator, hook your arm up around his neck, and kiss him. Your mouth stays meshed with Dieter’s as you press the trigger button, the glow from the cave exploding into an all-encompassing light as the C4 detonates.

If you die now, kissing Dieter Bravo in a blaze of explosives is a hell of a way to go.

Then, everything goes black.

++end chapter 4++

Series Masterlist // CH3 // CH5 coming soon

A/N: So much of this chapter hews closest to the film for compact storytelling reasons. While most of the fic is straight up derivative anyway, I really, really want to highlight that the lines “We’re already sick of each other. It’s the best,” the 'less mundane' exchange, “Let’s see if we blow up and die,” and basically most of the cave exchange comes directly from the film. I’m not this funny.

Thanks so much for reading! If you enjoyed what you read, please do reblog or leave a comment, I’d be most grateful! Want to read more of my work? Take a peek at my masterlist here.

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x f!reader #fic:down this chain of days #dieter bravo x you #palm springs au #time loop au #gf og #down this chain of days 4 #series rec #ghoti #ghotifishreads #b&n boost #bucks & noble boost

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