#trucker girl sayings

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Hotter Than Texas | Part II

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: I'm so excited that y'all loved the first part! Thanks for your enthusiasm, you rock <3

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

WC: 2000+

Part I | Masterlist

“I’m getting hungry.”

Bradley glances at the restaurant sign as he passes it on the interstate, suppressing a sigh. He usually skips lunch on long trips so he can arrive at his destination before nightfall. “I’ll get off at the next exit,” he says.

“Will you?” you exclaim excitedly, as though he’s offered to catch and cook your next meal himself.

Bradley chuckles mildly. “Well, I’m not going to let you starve.”

“You’re so sweet,” you reply, and Bradley eyes you with a grin because he’s about eighty percent certain you’re being facetious.

“What’re are you in the mood for?” he asks as he gets on the off-ramp.

“Something greasy and very bad for my heart.”

Bradley lets out a small laugh. What’s bad for his heart is you sitting next to him being all cute for the next twenty hours straight.

He pulls into the lot of a little diner just off the highway and parks his car while you flip down your sun visor to glance at your reflection in the mirror. “How do I look?” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

Bradley tries not to examine you directly and instead just glances in your vicinity. “Better than the truckers, I bet,” he comments, noticing the row of semis at the back of the lot.

You give him an unimpressed look and then push open your door. “I sure hope they have French toast.”

“I thought you wanted something greasy,” Bradley says, walking around the front of the Bronco to join you.

“I want options,” you state, marching forth toward the front doors.

Bradley strides ahead and pulls the door open for you. He can’t say he isn’t looking forward to having a sit-down meal with you, like it’s a date or something. And, as much as he hates to admit it, he’s almost thrilled at the prospect of the other patrons assuming the two of you are a couple.

You walk through the open door and Bradley stalls for a moment, trying to clear his head. He shouldn’t even be thinking about that sort of nonsense. He and Hangman have enough issues without adding Bradley’s crush on his baby sister to the mix. They’ve just begun to mend their bumpy – to say the least – relationship, and Jake would sure as shit not appreciate his colleague developing feelings for his younger sibling.

“You comin’, sugar?” you call from inside.

Bradley, who’s clearly taken too long of a beat, glances at you in a bit of a daze. He’s sure you just called him ‘sugar’ and that has utterly thrown him. He enters after you and gives the hostess a look that he hopes might resemble a polite smile. But his face feels hot and numb at the same time, so he can’t be sure.

…

“I think I’ll get the pancakes,” you muse, flipping through the menu leisurely.

Bradley smiles at you when you’re not looking. “Want to share some things?”

You glance up at him happily. “Can we?”

Bradley chuckles. “Why not? I could go for a pancake. What else should we get?”

Your eyes light up and you instantly refer back to the menu. “Fried pickles.”

Bradley cringes but he’s still amused. “Those’ll go great with the pancakes.”

“I agree,” you respond without a hint of sarcasm. “Chili?” you continue. “Or tacos?”

“Why not both?” Bradley shrugs.

You give him a serious look. “That’s just crazy talk.”

Bradley laughs. “You’re right, what was I thinking?”

“I sort of want some pie, though.”

Bradley closes his menu and leans forward into the table. “I’ve already thought of that,” he mutters under his breath, as though he’s about to divulge a secret. You lean in too, your bright eyes blinking up at him eagerly. “We’ll get one for the road,” he whispers.

You gasp. “You’re a genius!”

Bradley chuckles, leaning back in his seat proudly. “I won’t deny that.”

…

When the server arrives to take your orders, you let Bradley do the talking, but chime in with little requests now and again; onions on the home fries, maple syrup for the bacon, sour cream in the chili. And Bradley can’t help but delight in the fact that, every time you think of something, you tap his hand that's resting on the table, ‘oohing’ with excitement.

Bradley eyes you with a smile once the server departs. “Maple syrup for the bacon?”

You wave a hand at him. “You’ll see.”

Bradley shakes his head with a smirk. “Not on my bacon.”

“Yeah, my brother warned me that you’re a bit of a square.”

Bradley raises his eyebrows and scoffs. “Your brother said what?”

You grin at him mischievously. “Don’t worry, I can make up my own mind.”

“Your brother warned me that you’re a bully,” Bradley replies, his smile only getting wider. “And, coming from Hangman, that’s saying something.”

You let out a peal of laughter so exuberant that several faces turn to look in your direction.

“Don’t worry,” he adds when your laughter partially subsides. “I can make up my own mind.”

“And?” you ask with soaring eyebrows. “Have you?”

Bradley hesitates for a moment and then decides to respond in a cheeky manner to avoid any awkwardness. “Not just yet,” he says with a chuckle.

You reach out and lightly smack his forearm. “Stop!”

“I’m joking,” Bradley concedes, grabbing your hand before you can strike him again. “It’s not like you’ve ever hit me to get your way,” he says pointedly.

You shake your head with a smirk and withdraw your hand.

…

“Everything was delicious,” you gush to the waitress as she clears the table. “We had such a wonderful time!”

“Glad to hear that, dear,” the waitress gives you a smile and then winks at Bradley, as though she’s in on some scheme with him.

Bradley furrows his eyebrows in amusement as she walks away and then digs into his pocket for his wallet. “My treat,” he says when you reach for your purse.

“No way!” you exclaim. “You’re already giving me a ride. The least I could do is feed you.”

“You don’t have to do anything. I’m happy to be your ride.”

“I insist,” you declare.

“I insist harder,” Bradley presses, laying down several bills onto the receipt tray.

You gaze at him pensively and finally slide your wallet back into your purse. “So, you’re stubborn,” you note.

“So, you’re observant,” he remarks.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Thanks for lunch, Rooster.”

…

Back on the road, you offer Bradley a turn with the radio, muttering something about not wanting to be a bully by hogging the music. He can tell you’ve said it in jest, but he still wants to make sure he hasn’t offended you.

“You know I don’t think you’re a bully, right?” he says, glancing between your face and the road several times.

You eye him playfully. “Well, give it a minute.”

Bradley chuckles. “It’s getting dark,” he notes after a little while. He was hoping to get farther on the first day, but the prospect of maybe spending an extra day with you on the road doesn’t seem nearly as daunting as it might have in the morning. “Want to stop for the night?”

“I can drive if you want,” you offer.

Naturally, Bradley overthinks your response. He wonders if maybe you’ve had enough of him and would prefer to get to Texas as soon as possible. “No, no,” he responds. “I can drive. I just thought you might be tired.”

“From sitting?” you quip.

Bradley gives you a flat look. “It’s been a long day.”

You shrug. “It flew by.”

That sets his mind at ease somewhat. A day doesn’t fly by unless you’re having a good time. “I think we should stop,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond, “let’s stop.”

…

“You two lovebirds want the mountain or city view?” the hotel’s front desk clerk enquires with a beam.

Bradley is about to explain that the two of you will, in fact, require separate rooms because you are the absolute opposite of lovebirds, when you respond with, “Mountain, please.”

The clerk hands you a key and Bradley follows you down the hall mutely, with both of your suitcases in tow. He’s not about to dispute your decision to share a room, despite knowing that it’s exactly what he swore he’d avoid doing the moment he laid eyes on you.

You open the door and enter, holding it open for Bradley so that he can bring in the luggage. He sets it down gingerly by the door and straightens his back to look around. The are two double beds against the wall and a large window with a spectacular view of the Santa Catalina range.

You flop down on one of the beds with a contented sigh. “You know what, darlin’? I am tired.”

Bradley watches you climb further up the bed and rest your head on one of the pillows. He’s used to you calling him all sorts of terms of endearment at this point, but it still warms his heart each and every time you do. “No dinner tonight, sweetheart?” he responds, adopting your speaking style on a trial basis.

You lift your head from the pillow. “Let’s just order in?”

You seem unfazed by the fact that Bradley just called you sweetheart. Meanwhile, he’s nearly thrown up from the anxiety it’s caused him. He resolves not to call you that – or any other overly-friendly name – ever again. “Yeah, we can do that,” he responds casually. “Pizza?”

You nod. “With barbeque chicken.”

“You got it.”

…

“Did you always want to be an aviator?” you ask, taking a bit of pizza while dusting crumbs off the bedspread.

The two of you are sitting cross-legged atop one of the beds with the open pizza box between you. Bradley grabs another slice. “Pretty much.” He doesn’t really want to get into specifics, because that means being vulnerable, a state which Bradley does not much enjoy.

“Interesting.”

“What about you?” he asks. “What are you studying?”

“Math.”

Bradley nearly chokes. For some reason, he expected something less cerebral. “Are you going to be an accountant, or something?” he asks with a smirk.

You frown slightly. “I sure hope not.”

“Well, what do you want to be?”

“A good person,” you respond thoughtfully.

Bradley lowers his pizza and stares at you. “You are a good person,” he says hoarsely.

You shrug. “I have my days.”

“I mean, I don’t know you very well,” Bradley reasons. “But you seem great. Much better than your brother.”

You laugh and lower your gaze. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” you say warmly.

Bradley can feel his heart pounding like a double bass drum. The only sweetheart in this room is you and he can hardly keep that to himself. To think that you might be doubting your own integrity is affecting Bradley on a near-physical level. “You’re a good person. Anybody who tells you otherwise is an idiot,” he states.

You smile, still looking downward. “Thanks.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

You place your half-eaten slice of pizza back into the box and fall back into the pillows, sighing dramatically. “I’m stuffed!”

Bradley, who’s just taken his final bite, mutters around the crust in his mouth. “Me too.” He closes the pizza box and picks it up to set it onto the floor by the bed. Then, he moves to the other bed and lies down on his back with a weary exhale.

“Hey, Rooster,” you call from your bed.

“Hmm?”

“Are you a good pilot?”

Bradley turns onto his side to face you. “I think so.”

“My brother said you were just alright,” you say.

Bradley snorts and throws a pillow at you. You laugh and then stuff the pillow in between your knees. “Joke’s on you, I’m keeping this.”

Bradley adjusts his second pillow under his head and mutters, “You’re welcome.”

“Tomorrow you can choose what you want to listen to,” you say.

Bradley chuckles. What he wants to listen to more than anything is probably you.

“Hey, Rooster,” you say quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Is there any pie left?”

Read Part 3

Tag List

I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments shortly!

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[gutsby]

Joel Miller

Waiting Game (dbf!Joel)

Joel has mastered the art of self-control in all areas except one: not fucking his friend’s daughter. A cross-country road trip home from college takes a hard turn when he’s forced to share a motel room with you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

One shots for the Waiting Game ‘verse

Homemade: While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.

Diehard: Joel tries Viagra for the very first time.

Ruined!: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.

Cabin Fever (Dark!Joel x Dark!Reader) [DEAD DOVE]

Joel saves your life, but help comes at a price.

Confines: Joel locks you up in a subterranean bunker.

Finders Keepers (bfd!Joel)

Something about the sun in Cabo San Lucas and your best friend’s father’s sweaty body makes you a horny mess. When you find an old shirt of his lying around, you can’t resist. When Mr. Miller finds you humping a pillow and moaning his name, neither can he.

Cry, Baby

Joel fucks you to the point of tears. That’s all.

Just Peachy [anal]

Joel’s got a jealous streak and a bold idea.

Bucky Barnes

Wedded Bliss (Mob!Bucky)

The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Daryl Dixon

Dead Ringer

Weeks of separation and sexual frustration come to a head when Daryl pays you a visit in the middle of the night. Whether it's the product of your own sex-deprived subconscious or reality, you can't be sure—and couldn't care less. Daryl wants to fulfill the fantasy any way he can.

Easy Street

You steal a cop car and almost run Daryl over en route to the Sanctuary. You can’t decide if you want to fight him, fuck him, or bring him back to Negan. Lucky for you, Daryl is game for all three.

Nighthawk

You decide to bring Spencer to the neighborhood Halloween bash to take your mind off your breakup with Daryl. Your ex isn't so easily convinced of your intentions and decides there's no better place than his motorcycle to show you just how much he misses you.

Cherry Pie

You know virtually nothing about sex, and Daryl’s done it all. Together, you take on an impromptu anatomy lesson, and you learn that Daryl has a lot more to teach you than what’s covered in the textbooks.

Walker Bait

An unforeseen foray into a sex shop leaves you and Daryl trapped between a plastic cock and a hard place as a herd of walkers closes in. Angry sex ensues.

Grow a Uterus and We’ll Talk

Daryl has a bad case of baby fever, to put it lightly. You’re practically terrified of children. Rick lends you his kid for the night, and together, you come to learn that parenthood might not be the worst thing in the world. Even easier than baking muffins, one might say.

Honey Trap

You’ve been tasked with two simple jobs: infiltrate Alexandria’s community and bring intel back to your boss by any means necessary. When your entry point into the group takes the form of a familiar blue-eyed archer, you expect this to be your easiest gig yet—that is, until your prey decides to hunt you back.

Pregnant Pause

Babymaking is a bit trickier than anticipated, and months have passed with no sign of pregnancy. When your period finally doesn’t show up on time, you and Daryl act fast and head straight for the pharmacy—and get a little caught up along the way.

Mr. Dixon

Your efforts to seduce the DILF next door have all failed spectacularly, so you decide a wet hot car wash in front of his house is in order. Mr. Dixon is less than impressed with your antics and plans to teach you a lesson in good manners and ‘neighborliness.’

I’m a Good Girl, Officer!

Apparently flashing your tits to truckers on the freeway is frowned upon in small towns like yours. When three familiar King County cops take charge of the case, you learn they punish bad girls a little differently.

Playing Dangerous

Working undercover in a seedy part of town, homicide detective Daryl sees you in your skimpy club attire and mistakes you for a hooker. A wrongful arrest makes for a funny way to foreplay, but you’re still game.

Fake It Til You Make It (Or Drown)

Daryl finds out you faked an orgasm. Instead of getting mad, he decides to get even.

Best Served Cold

Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.

Coming Soon:

Bite the Bullet

Back at the prison, new recruits have been showering you with gifts. One of these presents doesn’t sit quite right with Daryl, and he decides it’s time to let the men know just how he feels—and who you belong to.

Atlantic City

A very drunk Daryl meets a stripper in Jersey and wastes no time putting a ring on her finger. With the late, great Elvis Presley presiding, the two get hitched in a slipshod ceremony a couple weeks before the world descends into chaos. This marriage may be short-lived, but damn if the honeymoon won’t be one to remember.

Requests are open!

[bettyfrommars]

A little something inspired by this edit by @somnambulic-thing of what I imagine as a version of a mechanic!Eddie, but he's also biker!Eddie to me, or anything you want.

mechanic!Eddie x Reader

18+Only, secret work crush, gender neutral reader, just some yearning fluff with mention of weed and alcohol, bit of slut shaming, some sage advice from Wayne.

word count: 1.7k

Eddie had been staring at the door to the office and zoning out for a while when you opened it to step into the bay, and his unblinking gaze accidentally lingered at your midsection.

“What’s wrong?” You glanced down at your outfit, thinking maybe your zipper was open or something worse. There were three other mechanics besides Eddie there that day, each of them knee deep in the hustle and bustle of the busy season.  A boombox on one of the tall, red cubbies blasted hard rock while an electric drill buzzed.  

His attention snapped back to the bolt he was crouched down to tighten on the rim of a Ford Bronco.  

“Nothing,” he grunted, cranking the ratchet so that the muscles on his tattooed bicep bulged. He had on his signature summer uniform of black coveralls with the sleeves ripped off.  His hair was tied back in a pony with a navy-blue bandana on his head, making it easier to slip his welding helmet on and off.  “I didn’t know you were working today.”

Now, that was a big fat lie.  Spotting your car in the parking lot when he came in every morning was one of those things that set his day right.  You’d taken Thursday off the week before, and he’d moped around in a bad mood for the entire shift.  

Almost four months you’d been working in the office, and he still hadn’t summoned the nerve to ask you out.  Instead, he drank too much after a show at the Hideout one night and ended up letting some random chick crawl all over him.  The next day, the guys he worked with would make it sound more serious than it actually was.

“Soooo Munson, I heard you got lucky with Deep Throat Dana last night. They say she can suck an orange out of a tailpipe!” 

And then the entire shop broke out into wheezing laughter like a bunch of hyenas, as if something funny was said.

It made him cringe, and he cast a side glance to see if you were within earshot.  “Nothing happened with that girl,” he wanted to say to you.  “We kissed, but I just couldn’t…ya know?”

But also, why did he feel the need to explain himself to you? It was as if he was being faithful to a dream.  You’d never give him the time of day out in the real world.  Sure, you knew just how he liked his coffee, and you asked him questions about DnD and his band as if you were interested.  But, you were just being nice—he could tell.  At first he thought he was special, but quickly realized that you treated everyone the same.  You were, in fact, a thoughtful, likable person.  Surely your only interest in him was as co-workers, nothing more.  

Also, he could hear Wayne’s voice in his head: “Don’t shit where you eat, son.” 

It was his uncle's long-standing advice to never get involved with a coworker, and Eddie just happened to agree.  If he was ever lucky enough to take you on a few dates and then you dumped him or broke his heart, he wasn’t sure he could work at the garage anymore.  On the bright side, he also had a CDL to operate heavy equipment, so maybe that would be his cue to become a long-haul trucker.  

Deep breath Munson, you’re getting way ahead of yourself.

You hesitated in the doorway for a beat with Mrs. Chadwick’s paperwork for the Oldsmobile sedan in your hand, wanting to ask Eddie how his day was going.  But then he sank down onto the creeper and rolled under the vehicle as if to avoid you in a hurry.  

You really didn’t know what to make of him. 

One second, you’d be certain he was flirting, but then later that day, he’d huff out the door without even so much as a wave. He’d tease you about things, like your collection of random motel pens or the music you liked, and then you’d give the energy right back and wait for that gremlin smile to spread across his face. 

The other day, he’d left your favorite candy bar on the desk for you to find.  You knew it was him because he was the only one in Hawkins you’d told.  How the topic of sweets came up, you weren’t sure, but you’d never forget the curious narrowing of his eyes when he asked which one you liked best.

You had this strange feeling that he was secretly studying you.

The other night you were sitting across from your friend Tina, having burgers and beers at The Hideaway, when Eddie just happened to breeze in.

Your heart stuttered, whatever you’d been saying dying on your lips, completely losing your train of thought. The vinyl in the booth squeaked as you craned your neck to watch him. That was the first time you’d ever seen him in street clothes without coveralls on, and it was raining, so his long hair was soaked.  He greeted the woman at the cash register, and you were too far away to hear, but apparently he was there to pay and pick up his takeout order in a big brown sack with greasy handprints on it.  You thought about waving him down to ask if he wanted to join the two of you, but he did his business in a hurry and didn’t seem to want to be noticed.

“What’s going on?” Tina asked, gaze darting from you to the Dio patch on Eddie’s back as he exited the building.  She munched a french fry before wiping ketchup off her lip.  “Did something happen between you and Eddie?”

You snapped a look at her.  “You know him?”

“Well, not intimately,” she ate another fry.  “But I went to school with him, and bought weed from him a few times.”

“He sells weed?” You cocked an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised.

“It’s been like, a while, but maybe he still does.  How do you know him?”

“We work together,” you brought the half-eaten burger up for a bite and paused there.  “I think he hates me.”

“I highly doubt that.” And then she stared pointedly at you when she said, “he’s cute,” with a knowing smirk. 

“Ha,” you adjusted the napkin on your lap. “Well, as you know, I plan to stay single for the rest of my life.”

“Sure, sure.”

When it got closer to 6 that day, you scrambled to get off the phone with a customer, worried Eddie might slip out again and you wouldn’t see him for the entire weekend. After hiding in the supply closet for a full minute to avoid Phil—one of the other mechanics who liked to talk your ear off—you finally made it to the break room, panting as if you’d just run a marathon.

Eddie was there, bent over to snatch a Pepsi out of the vending machine.  Freezing in place, you suddenly forgot how to form words.

Eddie felt like an idiot, like for sure you’d caught on to the fact that he’d been finding shit to do for the past half hour just so he could be there to have some private time with you.  He didn’t like the idea of you closing up the shop by yourself, especially now that it was getting darker sooner. 

And then fucking Phil wouldn’t leave. His wife had relatives visiting, and he was shuffling around like a sad puppy trying to avoid going home.  Eddie had to pretend he needed to take a shit just to get rid of him, and was halfway surprised the dude didn’t follow him into the bathroom.

He usually brought his own lunch, but the snack and soda machines were always tempting.  He knew how to open the damn things up and thought about doing some last minute grocery shopping to make up for his crappy wage.  

You cleared your throat.  “So, what are you up to this weekend?  Any fun plans?”

Eddie pulled his shoulders back and spun around at the sound of your voice, fisting the can in one hand and running the other through his hair.  He’d been growing his bangs out, and they were just long enough to tuck behind his ears.  The length was so fucking annoying at times that he’d often considered chopping them to nubs.    

You were smiling at him, eyes bright and sincere, and it made him feel all fuzzy inside like his brain was made of cotton candy.

“My day was good. You?” That was what came out of his mouth, and then he let out a silent, internal scream that made his ears ring. 

But he recovered quickly. “I mean, I don’t have any plans.  I don’t usually have…I mean, my buddy Jeff and I might go see a movie, but not like major plans.”  He didn’t want to tell you he was taking a trip out to Rick’s on Sunday to beef up his supply for weekly customers.  He sure as hell couldn’t restore the van on the chump change he made at the garage. 

You stared at him intently, softening when you realized he was nervous.  

How could that be?  Did you make him nervous?

You pulled a folded piece of paper out of your back pocket and held it up.  “I found this at the laundromat.  It says your band is playing at The Hideout on Tuesday.  Is that still happening?”

Pinched between your thumb and forefinger was one of the handmade fliers Gareth had helped him make.  

“Well we…yes-–” he cracked open the lid of the soda and it fizzed everywhere, dripping down his arm and onto the linoleum floor. “Shit, I’ll clean that up, don’t worry.”

He didn’t want you to get stuck having to get the mop out to clean again, so he put the leaking can down on the lunch table and went over to grab something to wipe it up.  

He busied himself with sopping up the mess, albeit poorly, while you inched closer.

“I think I might stop by and check you guys out,” you saw that his face was red when he stood, chocolate orbs lit up in anticipation.  “Maybe we could have a beer or something after?”

His cotton candy brain tried to filter his next thought, but it was too late.  “What are you doing tonight?”

“Tonight?” You blinked a few times.  “Is your band playing somewhere tonight too?”

“No, but I—” the tip of his tongue slipped side to side between his lips.  “If you’re not busy tonight maybe we could go somewhere to eat or drink or hang out or something.”

“Or something,” a grin quivered in the corner of your mouth. 

And then the two of you were just standing there, close enough for your breathing to fall into sync. Gathering up a nice helping of nerve, you reached an arm out and ran the back of your knuckles down the front of his shirt.

Eddie was vibrating.

Don’t shit where you eat, son.

No disrespect Uncle, but fuck the job.

“Anything," he said softly, hope blossoming in his chest like those wildly palpitating hearts in cartoons.  “Anything you want.”

[latenightdaydreams]

Omg girl please do part three for the trucker!!!

Love your writing

Here it isssss!!!! Thank you!🥹

Trucker!König x Stranded!Reader Part3 (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 1, Part 2, Part4, Part5

Master List

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Hello again🥰 Like parts one and two, three requires a strong trigger warning. I love you all and hope you're having a good day. Stay safe and take care of yourselves🩷

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>cw: fem/afab, non-con, oral, breeding, drugging, p in v

2.3k word count

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It’s been two months that you’ve been with König, 10 weeks to be exact. You’ve gotten into the routine of gas station breaks and over nights at the motel. You’ve learned to not fight him after a few bad incidents. He lets you wash yourself now, but he has to watch. He’s traded zip ties for soft handcuffs while you sleep. When you do bathroom breaks, he lets you go into the woman’s side alone, without the cuffs and during the day time. A small taste of freedom.

You sit on the bed in the back of his truck's cab, arms bound and looped through the metal on the bed so you can’t move. König stopped at a gas station to fill up. You sit and look at all of the people walking past. If only they knew you were here. If only they could help.

König buys you a honey bun, turkey sandwich, water, and a soda. He has become soft on you, in his own twisted way. He enjoys treating you, and he’s learned that you have a sweet tooth. He pays at the register and smiles at the young woman. For once he doesn’t look at someone like her in a predatory way, he has you. You fill the hunger.

König walks to the side and opens your soda. He pours two crushed up sleeping pills into the bottle, knowing that you’ll probably drink this first. He has a drop off coming up and he refuses to take any chances of you escaping.

He walks back to the truck and you perk up. He smiles down at you and holds up the bag of goodies.

“I got treats for you Maus.” König sits in the driver’s seat and takes things out of the bag before standing to take your hands away from the bar so you could eat, still handcuffed though.

“Thank you…” You say in a weak voice.

“When you’re done with that, I have a soda and honeybun for you.” He sits and begins to open his own food and eat.

You smile, food has become your only form of comfort throughout all of this. Just sweet things. It’s almost like you get to be back home for those few moments while you’re eating. The better you behave, the more treats König buys.

You both sit in silence as you eat. He hands you the soda to take drinks from. You thank him as you finish your sandwich.

“Ready for your honey bun?”

“Yes, please.” You look to his blue eyes as he smiles at your submission.

You continue to drink your soda as you eat. You zone out and look out the window, starting to feel tired. You yawn, shaking your head to try and wake yourself up. Looking back at König, you’re blinking slowly. Realizing you were drugged you begin to panic.

“Why?” Your eyelids have become insanely heavy and it’s hard to focus.

“Just for a stop, Maus. I just don’t want you to run away. You’ll be safe.” His voice was oddly soothing.

“I- I wouldn’t.” You begin to struggle to stay awake, your speech slurred and body heavy. You simply can’t fight the pills.

König approaches you and grabs the almost empty soda bottle out of your hand and the half-eaten honey bun; he wraps it up to save it for you. He gently lays you back on the bed and covers your body under the blanket. He hides your hands under so no one could possibly see that you’re handcuffed.

After his drop off, König sits in the driver’s seat using his phone; the truck is blocked off and locked for sleep. He’s moving money from his subscription page, where he has been posting your videos, to his bank account. He looks over at you occasionally, admiring how adorable you look asleep.

He is planning on taking a long break and bringing you to his house. He wants to show you your new home, your new life. Plus, he’s always wanted to settle down and have a family. You seem like you’d be a perfect mom. At the very least you’d make beautiful babies for him.

Standing, he approaches you and speaks softly, “Y/n, you awake?” He shakes your leg slightly. He’s just making sure the sleeping pills are still working. 

Grabbing his phone out of his pocket, he drops his pants to the floor. His erection springs from his boxers. He kneels next to the bed and pulls your sweat pants down and looks at your stubbly pussy, brushing his fingers over the texture before pulling your bottoms off all the way.

Spreading your legs apart, he gently kisses down your soft thighs. Kissing over the bitemarks he left from the last time he was down here. Deciding to not record this, he wants to make it a more intimate moment. He is starting to fall in love with you, and sex isn’t just for profit anymore.

He continues to kiss your soft thighs; it’s been two days since you’ve showered so your pussy smells divine. As he gets closer, he takes deep breaths through his nose to completely breathe you in. Finally, his lips meet your sweet warmth. He kisses gently up and down before pressing his face in, burying his nose deep into your lips.

“So süß…” He mutters to himself.

He pulls back and rubs his fingers up and down your pussy, listening to the mushy wet sound. Slipping two fingers into your cunt, he moves back to your pussy and begins to lick your clit gently. He knows you’re asleep, but he still wants to pleasure you. His other hand on his cock, stroking it quickly. He’s been waiting all day to feel you.

Once your pussy becomes creamy wet, he pulls his fingers out and licks them. Your natural musk all over his face. Grabbing your panties, he wipes his face off on them and keeps them in his hand. He pulls his pants off his ankles and moves on top of you. Moving your left leg with his hand to give himself space to rest his body on top of you. The space is very small for a normal sized person, for someone 6 '10, it’s almost impossible; but he finds a way.

Sliding his cock inside of you easily, he’s learned the right ways to touch your body and to make you relax enough to take him without struggle. He whimpers pathetically as he feels your wet cunt wrap around him. He rests his full weight on you and wraps one of his arms around you tightly, burying his head into the crook of your neck and bringing his hand holding your panties up so he can continue to breathe you in.

“I’m going to cum Maus.”

As his hips begin to thrust quickly, he moans out your name. His body enveloping yours completely, moving his head from your panties to kiss your neck. Moaning into you as his pace picks up. His balls slapping against your ass hard as he squeezes you tightly in his arms. He lets out a loud moan, shoving your panties into his mouth to muffle the sound as he cums deep inside of you.

Panting hard, he continues to just rest there; not wanting to let go of you. He pulls your panties from his mouth and kisses your cheek softly. Lifting his body off of you, he pulls out, savoring the little pop sound your cunt always makes. König looks down at his cum leaking out of you and uses a finger to shove it back in. He dresses you again and then himself. Putting his phone away, he gets ready to go to sleep.

When you wake up König is already driving again. Your head feels groggy from the pills he snuck into your drink. You look out the window and have to squint because of the sun shining brightly through the windows.

Hearing you stir, König looks over his shoulder and smiles at you. “Guten Morgen, meine Liebe.”

“My head hurts,” you say in a sleepy voice that makes his heart warm. “And I have to pee.”

König chuckles and nods his head, “We will be stopping soon. You can get out and use the bathroom. We can also get you a treat, whatever you want.”

“Thank you…”

“So, I’ve been thinking, maybe it’s time we take a break from the road and I take you home.”

The thought of being taken to his home makes your stomach drop. Everyday on the road you see small chances of possibly running away, an odd sense of freedom when you go to the rest stop. What if you never leave the house again? That would be your final stop.

“And maybe it’s time we think about children, I’ve always wanted a big family.”

His voice shatters your internal thoughts as you look up at him with panic. Technically, you’ve been having unprotected sex already, but he never cums in you, so you think. The thought of having his children, let alone this mans, makes you feel terrified and sick to your very core. Death would be kinder than being his breeding slave. You don’t respond, just zoning out and it catches König’s attention.

“Something wrong Maus?”

“N-no,” you think quickly on your toes, “I guess I just never saw myself having kids.”

“No? You’d be a wonderful mother. You’d make beautiful children, especially with my sperm.”

That just grosses you out.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be a good father.”

How can you be when you’ve kidnapped and assaulted their would be mother? You think to yourself trying to suppress the new waves of anxiety this talk is giving you. You decide to try and change topics.

“I’m sorry to be whiny, but I really have to pee.”

“Ja, ja, okay.” König drives on just a little while longer before turning off into the first rest stop he sees. He parks the semi before standing and approaching you. He grabs your shoes for you and kneels down looking at your beautiful face. His Maus.

“Remember the rules. Eyes down, don’t talk to anybody, in and out. Then we can pick out a treat and head back home.”

Home. Hell.

“I remember.” You nod your head as he helps you put your shoes on.

He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out the key to your cuffs. He unlocks you and the scars from the zip ties are still visible. He combs your hair back with a small purple comb to make sure you look presentable. There are always odd people here, so not many questions get asked anyway.

You finally step out of the truck, König’s fingers intertwined with yours as you walk. The hot sun on your skin makes you feel so alive, like you’re real. König stands there for a while and lets you take in its warmth before he tugs your arm for you to follow him.

You both walk inside and an older woman greets you both. König responds, but you keep your head down like you were told. He walks you to the bathroom and whispers in your ears.

“Remember, in and out. Quick.”

You nod in understanding and step into the restroom. Freedom. You rush into a stall and begin to pee hard, letting out a sigh of relief as you relax your shoulders and slump forward. You linger for a while before you wipe, any little small thing that you can do to extend your time alone you do.

Stepping out to wash your hands, you hear the door open and see an old lady with a cane walk in. She smiles at you kindly and you smile back before she goes into a stall. You want to ask for help, but she’s so old you’re scared she wouldn’t understand.

You dry your hands as the bathroom door opens again and as it lingers open, you can hear so many voices talking. You wonder what’s going on as you leave the bathroom.

Opening the door, you’re surrounded by a sea of older people waiting to go in. They just got off a bus for a rest break. You look over at König and see him a little bit away from you as the rude older people push their way past him. His eyes on you like a hawk. You stand there for a while, between the door to freedom, and going back to König. You could ask for help here, but what if he really kills all these innocent people?

König is currently cut off by at least 5 people, meaning he would have to go around then to hurry to you. You saw buildings on your way here, so you could possibly just run until you reach safety. Run and lose him so you can safely call for help.

This feels like it’s been an hour of thinking when really only five seconds pass. Looking at König still, you turn and run. The fastest you’ve ever ran in your life, catching the attention of everyone, not just König.

Running out of the door and heading towards the road, you just let your fight or flight carry you away.

König’s heart sinks as he sees you do that; you’ve been so well behaved he almost can’t believe you’d do this to him. With no care, he barrels through the line of people and goes out the door after you. Everyone at the stop is confused as they watch two people run in what looks like a chase.

König’s massive body is running after you at full speed, trying to catch up to you quickly before anyone can call for help or you can reach safety.

“MAUS!” He shouts after you.

You can hear his booming voice as you run, you don’t stop. You know if you do, he will catch you. There is no telling what an angry König would do. Tears begin to stream down your face as you run, your heart beat pounding in your ears. A little voice telling you to just keep going, don’t stop.

Part 4

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Tag: @nachofriess

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #3

CH.3 Sunny Side Up | The Menu [4.3K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

Talking to Eddie became a little easier after that night. Just a little. You greeted each other on morning shifts with tired nods, maybe a small ‘hi’ from you, a grunt from him that you’d learned not to take offence to. You’d watched time and time again as Jonathan brought his coffee to the kitchen, handing Eddie a mocha full of chocolate syrup and the boy received another grunt in thanks too. 

The diner became more familiar, as did your colleagues and it made your heart ache a little when you realised you melted into their routines, their little world as easily as they did with each other. Steve knew your favourite song, liked to turn it up when it came on the radio, pointing at you with enough fanfare to make you flush when he sang the lyrics into the end of a wooden spoon. 

Robin had invited you to hers, an unofficial girls night after a Sunday late shift that became a habit without meaning to. You shared her apartment space the way she shared yours, leftover pyjama shirts in each other's drawers, rented movies swapped between television sets. And at times, when she was home from college, Nancy would join you both, curled on the loveseat with Robin as they listened to your horror stories from Chicago. 

Argyle would offer you rides to work, always passing you on the days you missed the bus, pulling over his brightly painted van with a lazy grin and a yell of “jump in my ‘lil Chicago pizza.”

It was easy, comfortable, a slow kind of life that you craved in the city, the long days and quiet nights that you were more suited to. Hawkins was far from the white picket fence dream, but you loved your little apartment with its view of the cornfields, the long road out of town that you knew took you to work. And when the bus stopped on Sundays and you walked to the diner, you’d pass that old garage the same way you did on your first day in town and wave to Wayne. 

It was easy. It was simple. 

That Tuesday, you clocked in early after swapping a shift with Nancy, the heat rolling into the side door with you as the sun rose. It was the earliest you’d started and the diner was still quiet, a lack of customers between the midnight hours that the truckers frequented and the breakfast rush. The radio was up louder than usual, the smell of fresh bread coming from the ovens, a huge bowl of batter on the counter beside some chopped strawberries, glittering with sugar. 

“Hey! Hey what's the matter with you, feel right? Don't you feel right, baby?”

You could see Jonathan in the front of the diner, setting clean tables with new cutlery, Argyle trailing behind him - not necessarily helping, but definitely talking animatedly about something. Jim was in his office, groaning over receipts and copies of everyone’s vacation requests, two empty mugs of coffee in front of him. You weren’t sure where Ed—

“Jesus, watch it!”

You gasped on instinct as someone collided with your shoulder, a dull pain that wasn’t all that sore but scared you nonetheless. Eddie was glaring at you, holding a hot tray of morning rolls aloft with a dish towel. 

“I could’ve fucking burnt you,” he snapped, setting them down on his station with a clatter. 

You winced, an apology on your tongue, already tasting sour. “I’m sorry, I didn’t— I didn’t hear you say corner, or, or door or—”

You watched as Eddie’s frown disappeared momentarily, a soft drop of his expression that made you realise at the same time he did, that he didn’t give any of those warnings at all. You thought he’d apologise then, maybe back track with a rare smile but instead his scowl deepened and he set about pulling ingredients out of the fridge. 

“Stumbling ‘round like a baby deer, man,” Eddie huffed, his voice low, like you maybe weren’t meant to hear. But you did. “Gonna end up seriously hurtin’ yourself— or someone else. Not supposed to be in the damn kitchen, told you you weren’t made out f—”

Tears burned the corners of your eyes at the first sign of conflict but your heart pounded and you let yourself get wound up. You squared your shoulders, sucked in a breath and let the sting of your eyes and the lump in your throat fuel you. “Hey!” You snapped, only sounding a little watery, a little soft. “It wasn’t— it wasn’t my fault. You’re supposed to tell someone you’re coming if you’re holding something.” You blew out a breath, acutely aware of how Eddie was watching you with raised brows. “Especially something hot. And I don’t stumble.”

You glared right back at the boy, hoping you looked as intimidating as he did, throwing your hands on your hips for good measure until you felt too much like your mom and dropped them back by your side. You squirmed in the silence, pulling self-consciously at the hem of your uniform dress, still trying to keep your lips in an annoyed flat line, your brows as turned down as Eddie’s. Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, throwing a pound of butter into a huge mixing bowl. It made the station shake with a thud and he turned his back to you before he spoke, shoulders stiff, a tattoo that curled up from his back to the nape of his neck just visible for the way he’d pulled his curl up in a bun. 

“Why are you always in such a bad mood? Huh? And I’m allowed in the kitchen,” you added, hating that you sounded haughty, but fuck this boy and his attitude problem. The hot and cold act was starting to wear thin. “I work here too.”

He turned then, the sleeves of his chef whites rolled up to his elbows, ropes of muscle and lines of ink curling around his forearms. His fingers were covered in butter and sugar, and when he took a few steps closer, brows raised at you in a challenge, he smelled like cinnamon. “That right, sweetheart?”

You didn’t back down, even though your stomach flipped. You lifted your chin higher, tried to give it back to him as good as he gave it out. “You think I come here for the good of my health?” You wanted to bite, you wanted to sink your teeth in and draw blood. You wanted to hurt. The taste of honey on fresh sourdough lingered on your tongue.  “I heard the food is shit.”

Eddie’s nostrils flared at your childish barb, but as immature as it was, the boy gritted his teeth and stormed back to the work station. The bowls clattered against each, steel on steel and the spatula he’d been using got launched into the empty sink. 

“Just stay out my way,” Eddie grunted. 

 The sharpness of his words made your throat tight, face scrunching unhappily because what had you ever done to him? You decided not to answer, pressing your lips together instead and hoping Eddie didn’t see your watery eyes when you stalked past his table. You ducked into the office, slamming your locker door as you shoved your bag inside, shouldering into Steve by accident on the way back out. 

“Oh, sorry— hey, hey,” Steve frowned, catching sight of your face. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t answer, just smiling and shrugging him off, already pulling out your pad and pen from the front of your apron, as if the quiet diner was suddenly full of people who were desperate for their orders to be taken. You didn’t look at Eddie as you left, disappearing between the table and booths, hoping for something to clean until a table filled up. 

You didn’t see it, you didn’t hear it, but Steve walked to Eddie’s station with a scowl that matched the other boy’s and stole the spoon that was in his hand. 

“Hey!” Eddie’s head shot up, eyes narrowed, ready for a fight. “Give me th—”

“Stop being a dick,” Steve scolded, holding the spoon over his head when Eddie tried to grab it across the bench. “You’re being an ass, man. And for what?”

Eddie glared, reaching for the stolen utensil and swearing when Steve rapped the back of his knuckles with it. “What’re you even talkin’ about?”

Steve scoffed, “don’t act dumb, Munson, it isn’t cute. What have you got against the new girl?”

Eddie didn’t answer, giving up and crossing the kitchen to rake through a drawer for another spoon instead. He stalked to the refrigerator too, still scowling, piling more ingredients in his arms as he went. He walked back to Steve with eggs and fruit, jars of spices that were all different colours. Steve was still standing, shirt sleeves rolled up, his name badge on upside down. 

“Well?”

“Steve, just—” Eddie let out a huff and set a pan on the stovetop, flicking on the switches until a blue flame appeared. It bloomed into red, orange and Eddie spooned some butter into the pan. “I don’t have anything against her.” His cheeks were hot, he could feel it. A pink flush that went across his nose and attacked the tips of his ears. He cracked an egg too vigorously, shell in the yolk, making it burst. He swore. 

“No?” Steve didn’t look convinced. He handed Eddie back his spoon. “Doing your damn best to convince her otherwise. Poor kid looked like she was about to cry.”

Eddie’s eyes shuttered closed at that, guilt gnawing a hole in his chest. He cracked another egg, watched it turn white over the heat. He really wanted a cigarette. 

The bell for the diner door rang, signalling the arrival of customers, a bleary eyed bunch of business men that looked like they were from out of town. Their suits were too sharp, close shaven beards and briefcases making them look like sore thumbs against the garish decor and sticky booth seats. Both boy’s watched you approach their table, smiling sweetly and nodding shyly as you scribbled down their orders. When you turned to head to the hatch, a piece of paper ready to be slapped onto the stainless steel bar, Eddie watched as the men eyed your behind, appreciative faces and shared whispers about the way your legs looked in your dress. 

He cracked another egg, eyes narrowed, chest tighter than before. 

“Say sorry,” Steve finalised the conversation with a friendly slap to Eddie’s shoulder as he passed him. You were only a few tables away, head ducked down, eyes hidden as you approached. Steve looked serious as he said, “fix it.”

—————

By the time the clock hit eleven am, Jonathan was coaxing you into going for your break, handing your orders to Steve as he cleared the table your customers just left. He waved away your protests, voice quiet and soft as he handed you the dollar notes that were left for you beside a ketchup stain. 

“I’ve got it,” he tsked. “Go on, go get some food or somethin’.”

So you smiled and pulled off your apron as you headed through the back, already sipping on a glass of lemon water you’d poured yourself at the bar. You could hear Steve greet a family at the front door, all charm and sweetness, and the radio in the kitchen was still playing. Breakfast was almost over but the place still smelled sweet, syrup and cinnamon, cooked pancakes and fresh bread, maple bacon that the diners always ordered an extra plate of. 

Argyle was at the sink, washing a pot and he smiled as you walked across the tiles. “Wassup Chicago town?” There were bubbles on his arms, a walkman clipped to the waistband of his chef whites and headphones around his neck. “You lookin’ for Eddie?”

You frowned without meaning to, wondering if you could get away with pinching some leftover breakfast without anyone realising. Jim didn’t mind, but Eddie was way too particular with his leftovers. 

“Uh, no,” you answered. “Should I be?”

“Think he was lookin’ for you.”

You didn’t get to ask anymore questions, or even laugh at the idea of the chef seeking you out, because Eddie was coming back out from the pantry with a new bag of sugar. His eyes flitted to you as he walked to his bench, cheeks a little pink and he sprinkled some of it over a bowl of chopped fruit before he said anything. He nodded to the stool he made you sit on the other day, the one at his station and it was only then you noticed there was a plate sitting. 

Two perfectly cooked eggs, sunny side up with a huge slice of orange that was arranged like a smile. There was a single blueberry in the middle of the plate, plucked from the bowl that Eddie placed beside it, finishing off the smiley faced breakfast. 

“You hungry?” Eddie murmured, his voice softer than it had been when you last ran into him. He kept his head bent, curls framing his brown eyes, lips twisted. “You didn’t have breakfast.” 

“Wh—?” Your lips parted, your apron still fisted in your hand and you rounded the station slowly, eyes on the boy like you were waiting for the joke to land. 

Eddie’s gaze shot from you to the stool and he tilted his chin once more. “Sit.” His demand wasn’t bossy, despite the bluntness. His voice was so much more gentle than you’d heard it before. The frown was still there, the stitch between his brows but his eyes looked softer, honeyed caramel, brown sugar, the stickiest kind of toffee. “Gonna get cold.”

So you sat, looking behind you to glance at Argyle, wondering if this was strange enough for him to take notice too. Sure enough, the boy had stopped scrubbing, his hands still in the hot water as steam rose up around his confused face. He was watching the both of you, eyes glancing between you and Eddie as he tried to work out what was happening. 

Eddie turned his back on you as you stared down at the meal he’d made you, eyes still wide and something inside of you sank at the idea of his walking away. But he spun back, a fork and knife in his hand, wrapped in a napkin. He didn’t hand them to you, but he slid them across the counter, his expression neutral - you couldn’t work him out. 

“Thank you,” you whispered and Eddie nodded. You wondered if Steve and Jonathan got their breakfast made for them when they went on break, if they came into the kitchen to a bowl of fresh fruit - mangoes and berries and brightly coloured slices of citrus. You thought it would be best not to ask. “Looks good.”

Eddie hummed and nodded, waiting until you picked up your cutlery and unfurled it from the wrapping. He made his leave then, cheeks pink, curls going a little frizzy in the heat and he ducked away, picking up a crate that he took into the freezer, the large door thumping behind him. 

The napkin fell to the table as you took out your fork, marvelling over the way the yolk burst perfectly as you dug in, golden liquid pooling across your plate. You picked up the blueberry nose before it got caught, popping it into your mouth and humming at the flavour. And when you looked down, there was a word scrawled across the napkin, faded black ink on white tissue. 

“Sorry.”

—————

Eddie made sure he waited long enough for you to be gone by the time he appeared from the walk-in, nose red with the cold, skin goose pimpled under his uniform - because fucking hell, why did he decide to hide in the freezer? He came back out warily, keeping his back against the tiled wall as he peered around the corner. You were gone from his station, your twenty minute break already over and he could see your empty plate and bowl stacked at the sink beside Argyle.  

He squared his shoulders and tried to act normal as he stomped back into his kitchen, frown set back on his face but his heart was thundering. It made him feel ill, the way his chest got right, the way his stomach flipped. His station was clear of your plates, but you’d left the napkin there, the corner of it tucked under a plastic quart container so it didn’t float away. 

There, in your much neater handwriting and the pink pen you liked to take orders with, was a reply to the boy’s scrawled apology. 

“Thank you.”

Eddie stared at the words for too long, until the rosy coloured ink went blurry and his cheeks turned the same shade. He wasn’t sure where you’d gone, but he could smell perfume he assumed was yours, lingering between the stacks of chopped strawberries, the halved mango on the counter. 

“You got a crush, my friend?” 

Eddie’s head snapped up, a scowl set back on his face instinctually. He liked Argyle, he didn’t mind him at all, but the boy was standing by the sink and was looking at him knowingly. Argyle grinned and raised his brows, waiting for Eddie to answer. 

“What? No.” Eddie slammed the napkin back down on the desk. Argyle was still grinning. “Shut up.” Eddie waited until the other boy returned to the dishes before he took the napkin and folded it up, tucking it into his pocket. 

He’d bin it later, he told himself. It wasn’t a big deal. 

—————

The day Eddie was scheduled off on the rota was a much busier day. It seemed like bad luck, the main cook’s day off coinciding with the monthly farmers market that was set up in Hawkin’s Main Street. The square was filled with stalls, fresh fruit and vegetables in crates, the smell of homemade soap, lavender and rose on the breeze. The tiny storefronts helped funnel the crowds in the direction of the diner, lines of cars driving to the restaurant for breakfast, their trunks full of fresh goods and Mrs Sinclair’s apple pie slices. 

It meant your day went too fast, the tips good and the chance of a break slim. Argyle was pushed to his limit, the freezer used more than ever as the full tables called for a quicker turnaround, the frozen burger patties being used instead of the way Eddie liked to make each one fresh. But Eddie wasn’t here and you certainly weren’t thinking about him, so he didn’t need to know. And when your shift ended at five, the dinner rush was just as crazy so you stayed on until six and helped Nancy clear a table of twelve guests, two families from out of town that had too many kids and there were lines of coloured crayon along the walls that just wouldn’t shift until you gave in and brought out a bottle of bleach. 

She was grateful enough that she split the table’s tip with you, something you tried to wave away but she insisted and stuffed the dollar bills into the front of your apron, not caring about the stains, the dryer grease, the spilled coffee there. Nancy looked just as undone as you. But it had been a good day - you missed the chance to eat, and maybe get something made for you by Eddie - but you had enough cash rolled up in your purse to start a new stack in your freezer at home and the bus back into town should be due any min—

The bus rolled past before you could get to the stop, the tires squeaking in protest as it passed you by, your feet not able to take you out of the parking lot quick enough. And it was still fine, there was still a little light in the sky, that navy-lilac kinda way that told you nightfall was coming soon, or maybe rain. Maybe both. 

So you pulled the strap of your bag across your chest and wished your uniform wasn’t as starchy and tight, ‘cause the heat still lingered even in the evening, warmth collecting in the shadows even as indigo coloured clouds rolled in above. The rain didn’t hit until ten minutes into your walk, a Misty drizzle that had you scrunching your face until it turned into a downpour. A heavy summer storm where thunder shouted at you from the distance, way out across the cornfields and making the sky flash white. You ran down the sidewalk where there weren’t many places to stop, to shelter and you suddenly wished more than ever that you still had your shitty old car that you barely needed to use when you lived in Chicago. 

But the garage was coming up, a familiar building with peeling red paint on its walls and a huge shutter that was already closed a third of the way. You hoped and prayed that Wayne was still around, wondering if it would be too cheeky to ask if you could finally take him up on the offer of that ride he once asked if you needed. Weeks of passing by and waving to him - and offering a snickerdoodle from the box you once took into work for Jonathan’s birthday - had built up a quiet sort of friendship. 

The garage was quiet and the bell sounded as you pushed open the door, the workshop floor stained with oil and paint, leftover footprints that would never clean off. Cars sat asleep, some with their hoods up, engines ripped out and dismantled on the floor, and thank god, there was still a light on in the office. A warm glow through a window, the outline of a man sorting through papers and his head lifted when he heard you bump into the side of a workbench, a tool you didn’t know the name of clattering to the floor. 

You winced and raised your hand in a greeting and an apology. “Sorry, hi— I just— it’s raining.”

Wayne laughed after he got over his surprise, beckoning you in with an oil stained hand. His tiny office smelled like gas and burnt tires but his smile was as friendly and tired as it always was. “Miss the bus?” He asked. 

You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest. Out of the summer air, the garage was cooler and you were drenched, goosebumps trailing across your forearms. “Drove right by me.”

Wayne tutted, sympathetic and he pushed what looked like a stack of invoices into a tray for tomorrow. “That’ll be that Hagan boy, never should’ve been allowed the job. Doesn’t pay any darned attention to nobody.” The man patted down his pockets, searching for his keys. “Jus’ gimme a minute and I’ll drop you off, think the boy took my damn keys. Hey, son—”

Another figure appeared in the doorway, cutting off Wayne’s call. This man was tall and broad shouldered, with dark curls that weren’t tied back. They hit his shoulders, wild strands springing around brown eyes that quickly widened at the sight of you. 

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?”

“Hey!” Wayne snapped with a frown. He whacked the boy’s shoulder with a rolled up newspaper he grabbed from his desk. “That’s no way to speak to a lady. I raised you better than that, you little delinquent.”

Eddie looked astonishingly different out of his chef whites and your surprise showed on your face. Out of his uniform, you could see more skin, more ink. Tattoos curling around his forearms and creeping up towards his biceps, black leaking across lithe muscles that you didn’t get to see at work. He was all dark, black jeans with rips in the knees, a black T-shirt that was well worn, the band logo on the front unrecognisable from wear and from the fact that your music taste was wildly different. 

Jewellery he didn’t get to wear glitter on him, silver rings on almost every finger, skulls and orjer horned things around his knuckles, a silver chain peeking out from underneath his collar. There was a hole in the hem of his shirt, heavy scuff marks on his big boots. He was still scowling at you though, a familiar sight that made him look more like the Eddie you knew. 

You glanced at Wayne, still confused as to why he was scolding the line cook from your work. You looked back to Eddie, lips trying to wrap around an explanation. He made you feel like you weren’t supposed to be here. “I— the bus. I missed the bus.” You swallowed, an awful shyness coming over you, or maybe it was nerves. “It’s raining.”

The weather was making itself known as the storm closed in, heavy, fat drops of rain pounding on the tin roof of the garage, a deafening roar that only got heavier. 

“Yeah, no shit.” Eddie called back, raising his voice to be heard over the din and his cheek got him another smack from Wayne. 

“You better hope I don’t find out you talk like that in the kitchen, boy,” Wayne pointed an accusatory finger at Eddie, to which the boy merely rolled his eyes at. “I’ll ask Jim, he’ll tell me.” When Eddie didn’t reply, Wayne pulled on his jacket and set about collecting more sheets of paper. He asked Eddie for his keys and pocketed them before saying, “Ed’s, be a good ‘un and take my friend here home, yeah? I gotta finish up this mess.”

When Eddie raised his brows and dropped his jaw, you were pretty sure your expression was the same. Except you were burning, both at the embarrassment of Wayne being so sweet and the idea of having to spend time with Eddie alone. 

“Friend?” Eddie scoffed. “Since when?”

You wanted the floor to open up below you. “I can, I can just walk.” You jammed a thumb at the door, at the torrential rain that was still falling angrily outside of it. “I think the rain has stopped…”

Thunder bellowed from above. A leak in the corner of the work floor dripped onto an old tire. Wayne stared at you both, unimpressed. 

And that’s how you ended up in the passenger seat of Eddie’s van. 

[wileys-russo]

jenni hermoso, ”they need to stop looking at what’s mine”, beach

beachball II j.hermoso

"you're blocking my sun hermoso." you cracked one eye open and glared upwards at your girlfriend who stood over you with a wolfish grin, casting a shadow across your face as you sighed.

annoyed as you might have been with the break to your tanning routine you couldn't help but allow your eyes to rake over the footballers toned and tattooed body, rippling muscles glistening from her dip in the caribbean ocean.

"you look hot querida. maybe you need a swim?" the spaniard purred, dropping to her knees and leaning down hovering over you where you lay on a towel on the beach.

"jenni!" you whined as she shook her head and droplets of water from her hair rained down on you, freezing cold in contrast to the warmth of your dry sun soaked skin.

"thats my name bebita, i know how you love to say it." your girlfriend teased with a suggestive smirk as you smacked at her shoulder, dropping your sunglasses down over your eyes.

"vacation mode jennifer is somehow even more annoying than world cup winning jennifer." you mumbled with a shake of your head, your girlfriends overly confident demeanor just as infuriating as it was admirable.

"yet both are so very in love with you mi vida...and just as hot. winners are sexy, no?" the striker hummed, accent thick as you withheld the urge to smile at her words.

but this wasn't missed by the taller girl who ducked down and pecked your lips several times before laying down beside you on her own towel, body pressed as close against yours as it could be.

physical touch had always been jenni's favourite love language, even something as simple as her hand on the small of your back as she guided you to a table on date night, a finger locked with yours beneath the table of a family dinner, her hand sat on your thigh as she drove.

"amor." you spoke with a warning tone as her pointer finger traced circles against your hip, flicking teasingly at the waistband of your bikini bottoms.

you glanced to the right to see she'd covered her face with her cap but you had no doubt her lips would be curled into a smug smile. hand lashing out you flipped the cap off her face and promptly flipped over, laying on your stomach now.

you flinched as fingers quickly and skillfully tugged on the knot of your bikini top, untying it as the strings fell either side of your torso. "wouldn't want you to get tan lines princesa." your girlfriend rasped as your head twisted to raise an eyebrow at her.

"and they say chivalry is dead." you retorted as your girlfriend hummed and poked your nose, placing the trucker cap backwards on her head and pushing herself up to comfortably rest back on her elbows.

finally having a few moments of peace you were almost ready to flip around again when suddenly something wet collided with you, hitting you in the ass and splattering droplets of water across your back.

your first thought was that it was your girlfriends hand, jenni never afraid to smack, poke, pat or squeeze her favorite part of your body. but as you sat up slightly and watched her grab the beachball with a frown, you knew for once she was in the clear.

"sorry!" a young boy grinned, gesturing for jenni to throw the ball back as his friends hovered behind him, eyes very unsubtly checking the both of you out.

"hey, just give it back to them cari it was an accident." you reached out to squeeze her thigh, nodding encouragingly as her eyes flicked downward to you, jaw clenched clearly not missing where the boys own eyes were falling.

swallowing what she really wanted to say the older girl exhaled and tossed the ball back to them, the boys hurrying back over to the net as you flipped over and sat up.

"hey, amor." you poked at her side, trying to wrench her glare away from where it was trained on the young boys like a laser, jaw still tense and biceps bulging as she clenched and unclenched her fists.

"jenni." you called out again, hand softly falling to her cheek and physically forcing her head to look at you. "let it go. don't let one little thing ruin our day, okay?" you spoke firmly but gently.

"they need to stop looking at whats mine." jenni murmured, eyes now trailing down your body as you recognized the hungry look in her eyes which had your mouth curling upward into a smile.

"you think it is funny bebita? that i am joking?" your girlfriend challenged, raising an eyebrow as if daring you to agree, your stomach flipping at the almost predatory way her gaze roamed over your body, your other hand holding your undone top so it wouldn't fall down.

"no, but it is amusing you think i would give a bunch of stupid little boys the time of day when i have one of spains finest half naked on a towel next to me." you quipped back, the answer seeming to please her as some of the jealousy melted from her features.

"how about if you had her fully naked in a very comfortable hotel bed?" jenni purred with a smirk, reaching around to tie your top up for you as her mouth ghosted yours, eyes never leaving your own.

"mm i don't think i could be held accountable for my actions amor." you replied honestly, that same hunger now ablaze in your eyes as your girlfriend chuckled, pulling back right as you leant in to kiss her.

"well isn't it a good thing i am feeling so generous cariño. if you do what i want then maybe i will let you look and touch."

[badkitty3000]

One Fateful Day

Five x Single Mom reader, one-shot, 5k words

Warnings: None!

I received a request quite a while ago for a fluffy, sweet one-shot where Five befriends a single mom. Hope you like a super soft Five, cause that's what this is! ❤️

A/N: This image was made entirely with AI, as you can probably tell by the glaringly bad mistakes.

Five listened to the sound of happy children playing and screaming, along with the quiet hum of distant traffic and the crunch of bike tires as they rolled across the gravel pathways of his favorite city park. He found his usual bench, brushing off a few fallen leaves before easing himself onto it with the groan of someone years older than he looked. As soon as he was situated, he glanced around and waited. It never took long before they found him. Sure enough, less than 30 seconds later, the gang of ne’er-do-wells showed up out of nowhere.

Five’s bird friends consisted mostly of some mangy looking pigeons, a few brown sparrows, and one particularly ornery blue jay. They knew him by sight and would flock at his feet whenever he came to visit. As they gathered around, cooing, chirping and hopping excitedly, Five smiled down at them.

“Hi, guys,” he said quietly. “How’ve you been? Staying out of trouble?”

As usual, he received no real response, but more flitters and flapping of wings. That was ok, though. He didn’t mind the one-sided conversations.

Pulling a small bag of bird seed out of his inside coat pocket, he continued talking.

“Sorry I missed you yesterday.” He sprinkled a handful of the seed on the ground and watched as the excitement of the crew intensified. “Klaus needed a ride to the dentist. He said to say hi.”

Five watched the intricate dance of bird hierarchy unraveling before him. He already knew their order of rank and which bird was going to get the majority of the feast while the others waited their turns.

“Wren Franklin…be nice. Bernice isn’t taking your share, Jack Sparrow, so quit your squawking.”

He threw another handful on the ground. “Trucker Bob, it’s ok buddy…you get on in there, they aren’t going to hurt you.” Five suddenly stomped his foot at the blue jay, causing everyone to scatter for a brief moment before scurrying back again. “Sandra Jay O’Connor, I saw that! If I see you peck at poor Mr. Tippington again, you will be banned for a month!”

As Five cursed the blue jay while cooing soft words of encouragement to a small and plain-looking brown bird, he heard a quiet giggle nearby. Sensing it was aimed in his direction, he looked up. On the next bench over, he saw you. Your eyes sparkled as you tried to stifle your laugh. You looked abruptly away as soon as Five glanced at you.

Five smiled softly to himself. He knew he looked and sounded like a crazy person. But he sensed you weren’t making fun of him, just that you were amused.

“You laugh, but I’ve seen that bird fly right onto a man’s head and fly off with his toupee purely for spite. Granted, she was probably doing him a favor because it was god awful, but still.”

You looked at Five and laughed shyly again before shaking your head. “I had no idea bird crime was so rampant in this city.”

“Oh, yes,” Five nodded solemnly. “In fact, I advise you to stay away from the park at night. You might find yourself in the middle of a fly-by shooting. Lots of bird gang violence around here.”

“Is that so? Well, thank you for the heads up,” you said with a smile. Just then, your 5 year-old daughter ran up, out of breath. You handed her a bottle of water. “Ready to go, sweetie?”

The little girl nodded while taking a sip. “Yep.”

You got up and started to walk away, taking your daughter’s hand in yours. You stopped and looked back at Five, who was still watching you. “Have a nice afternoon with your friends there, and I hope Mr. Tippington is ok.”

Five grinned widely. “Thank you, and he’ll be just fine.”

You nodded with a smile and turned to leave. Five watched you go, ignoring the fact that his feathered friends were now clearly irritated that their benefactor had yet to give them their full ration of seed for the day.

Two days later, and Five was back on his favorite bench. As he was in the middle of another inciteful, one-way conversation with his buddies on the ground, he heard a familiar voice from behind.

“Go along and play, Cassie, I’ll watch you from here.”

When Five turned, he saw you standing there. Your eyes sparkled in the sunlight just like the first time he saw you.

“So, do these birds do anything for you in return for you feeding them? Like bringing you gifts, or doing your taxes?” you teased.

Five chuckled. “No. They just let me talk their ears off while they eat.”

“Huh. Do birds have ears?”

Five shrugged. “You know, I’m not sure. Maybe that’s why they don’t care that I’m talking at them.”

You laughed and gestured to the empty side of Five’s bench. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all.”

As Five moved over to make more room for you, you introduced yourself with a handshake.

“Nice to meet you. Five Hargreeves,” he said.

“Hargreeves? Why does that name sound familiar?” you asked, tilting your head.

Five sighed quietly. He really wondered why he hadn’t just picked another name by now. It would make things so much easier.

“Does The Umbrella Academy ring any bells?”

You were thoughtful for a second and then the lightbulb went on. “You’re kidding! You were…are…one of them?”

Five nodded. “Sure am. Good old Number Five.”

“I see,” you responded with a smile as you looked him up and down. “So, which one were you? I mean, what can you do?”

“Teleportation. Time travel.” He paused. “Pigeon summoning.”

You laughed. “Very cool. I can see your very impressive pigeon power in action now, but you’ll have to show me the others sometime.”

Five smiled. “Sure thing.”

You nodded. “Ok, Number Five. So, I’ve seen you around the park here a lot. Are you here with your kids, too?”

Five felt called out and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks. “Uh, no. No kids.” He was really hoping you didn’t think he was some creeper hanging out at the park for less innocent reasons. “Don’t worry, though. I just like to come here and feed these guys,” he explained, gesturing to the birds on the ground. “It’s like therapy but without the judgment and bill at the end.”

You looked dubious for just a moment, glancing over at the play structure where your daughter was swinging happily. But when you turned to face Five again, you relaxed. You glanced down at the birds. “They certainly seem to like you.”

Five shrugged. “I think they just view me as a human vending machine.” He held out the bag of seed towards you. “Want to be the hero?”

You nodded and reached into the bag, scooping up some seed and tossing it on the ground. The birds went crazy, tweeting and flapping their wings, making you laugh. Five grinned.

“See? They have no loyalty.”

“I see that. But you have names for them all?”

“Ah, well…some of them. At least the usual ones that come around. It’s rather interesting to observe their little avian society.” Five stopped, realizing that he sounded like a weirdo. “I’m sorry. I’m not a complete lunatic, I promise.”

You laughed, and once again Five could tell you weren’t making fun of him. You seemed genuinely charmed by him. You also had a very calming presence, he noticed. He didn’t feel awkward or on edge when talking with you, which was a refreshing change of pace these days.

“I don’t think you’re a lunatic. Believe me, I can spot them from a mile away and you’re not one.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

You jumped when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket from an incoming call. You held it up to Five with an exasperated sigh. “Sorry, I have to take this. It’s my ex and he’s supposed to take our daughter this weekend, so I have to figure out the details.”

He nodded. “Of course.”

As you turned to walk away for more privacy, Five took a look over at the playground. He saw the little girl you had called Cassie, climbing up the ladder to the monkey bars. She was small and Five watched as she got to the top rung, hesitantly reaching out for the first bar to cross. As she swung out, Five could see she wasn’t truly comfortable with what she was doing, and the ground was pretty far below. He stood up, looking over at you, but your back was turned as you were trying to focus on the call. When he turned back to the girl, he saw it start to happen like it was in slow motion. On the second bar, one of her hands started to slip, leaving her dangling by a few fingers. She let out a scream that got your attention, but it was too late.

Just as your daughter lost her grip with her remaining hand and began to fall to the ground, Five blinked directly under her, catching her just in time. As he stood there with your daughter in his arms, both of them looking shocked, you ran over in a panic.

“Cassie! Oh my god, are you ok?”

She nodded, still looking up at the mysterious man that had appeared out of the literal blue to save her. “Yeah.”

Five set her down and she ran to you, hugging you tightly around your waist. You held her to you and looked up at Five.

“Thank you. Thank you so much. I can’t believe I wasn’t watching…but you were…oh my god if you weren’t here…”

“No problem. I’m just glad I got there in time.”

You choked back the tears you could feel coming on. “I’m a terrible mother, aren’t I? I just let my kid fall off the monkey bars because I wasn’t paying attention. What kind of person does that?”

Five smiled gently. “A normal one. Of course you’re not a terrible mother.”

“You don’t even know me,” you sniffed with a smile.

“True. But in the very short time we’ve been talking, I can tell that you’re a great parent. Just like you can sniff out the lunatics, I can spot a shitty parent a mile away.”

Cassie let go of you, glancing back at Five with a smile and then back at you. “It’s true, mommy, you’re not shitty at all.”

“Cassie!” you gasped in horror at your daughter’s language.

Five tried to hold it in, but he had to laugh, which made Cassie laugh, which then made you laugh.

 “Sorry, I think that’s my fault,” Five said.

“Well, I’d like to blame you, but the truth is I have a bad habit of swearing like a sailor myself. I just usually try to keep it to a minimum around her, but I’m not always successful.”

Five nodded with a smile before crouching down in front of Cassie. “Maybe next time stick with the swings, ok?”

Cassie frowned, her eyebrows scrunched together as she crossed her arms. “Swings are for babies. I can DO the monkey bars, but these were slippery. Someone made them slippery.”

Five looked back up at you with a grin, then back at Cassie, fixing his face so that he was serious again. “I bet they did. That seems like a very logical explanation; I can tell you are very smart.”

Cassie uncrossed her arms with a smile and nodded. “I am! I get in trouble at school for saying I’m smarter than the other kids, but it’s not my fault. I’m only telling the truth.”

“We’re working on being humble, aren’t we Cassie?” you said in a reproving way.

Five chuckled and leaned in to whisper to Cassie, making sure he was still loud enough that you could hear. “I completely understand. I have the same problem.”

The little girl nodded solemnly, recognizing a fellow put-upon genius in her midst. She looked back up at you. “Can I go on the slide now?”

“Are you sure you’re ok?”

“Yes, I’m ok.”

“Alright, then. I promise I’ll be watching.”

As she ran off to the slide, you turned to Five. “I should probably go over and stand at the bottom. Just in case.”

“Oh sure, I understand.”

“Really, I can’t thank you enough, Five. You’re amazing.”

Five put his hands in his pockets and smiled shyly. “I think amazing is a bit much, but you’re welcome.”

“So, will you be coming by to feed your buddies tomorrow?”

“Most likely, yes.”

You nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I was thinking that I might bring Cassie back here tomorrow as well. Maybe around 2pm? Do you think you’ll be here then?”

“I think I will definitely be here at 2pm.”

“Great. I’ll see you then.”

With a smile, you gave him a small wave and turned to go join your daughter at the slide. Five watched you walk away, unable to keep the growing grin off his face. This was the most interaction he’d had with anyone that wasn’t part of his family in a very long time and it felt surprisingly good. Really good.

The next day, Five was already waiting at his usual bench when you and Cassie found your way over to him. When he saw you, he stood up, holding out a cup of coffee for you. His own cup was on the bench next to where he had been sitting.

“I wasn’t sure how you liked it. Or, even if you drank coffee, but here you go. It’s just black.”

As you took the cup, you giggled. “Yes, I do drink coffee, and black is perfect. Thank you so much, that wasn’t necessary.”

Five shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I was getting one for myself anyway, so it was no trouble.”

Cassie watched as you and Five stood there smiling at one another, but not saying anything. Her eyebrows came together and she looked up at Five, tilting her head to one side.

“My mom said your name is Five.”

Snapping out of his trance, he addressed Cassie. “Yes, it is.”

“That’s a number.”

“Yes, it is.”

“That’s how old I am.”

Five nodded. “You seem very mature for your age.”

She paused, eyeing him up thoughtfully. “Five’s a weird name.”

“Cassie!” you cried out, completely embarrassed at your daughter’s lack of a filter.

Biting back a laugh, Five pretended to look confused. “What do you mean it’s weird? I know at least a dozen other people named Five.”

Cassie paused, trying to determine if he was telling the truth or not. Then she shook her head with a small smile. “No, you don’t.”

Five grinned. “See? I knew you were smart.”

You laughed at their interaction, looking around. “So, where are your friends?”

“Oh, I haven’t put out the buffet yet. They’ll be here though.” He turned to Cassie. “Would you like to help feed some very ungrateful birds with me?”

The little girl’s face lit up. “Yes!”

“Ok, then, here you go,” Five took out his usual bag of birdseed and handed it to Cassie. “Just start sprinkling it on the ground. They’ll be here before you know it.”

As she took the seed and started to throw handfuls around and up in the air, laughing to herself, you and Five sat on the bench and watched. Sure enough, after about a minute, the small flock began to swoop in. Five identified all of them that had names, which made Cassie laugh even harder. As she giggled and let out little shrieks of joy while she continued to throw them more food, you turned to Five.

“I haven’t seen her this happy in a long time.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “It’s been really hard on her since the divorce. She has to go back and forth from house to house every week. It’s stressful and I can see it taking a toll on her. Which, naturally, makes me feel like shit.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Five said earnestly. “But even if it’s hard on her now, it will be better for her in the long run. Kids are resilient and she really is very smart, so I have no doubt she’ll be fine. What happened with you and your ex, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Well,” you sighed, “it’s a long story. But the short version is that we got together when we were young and just outgrew one another over time. He’s not a bad guy, but we argued all the time. The love was gone and we just didn’t want to fight anymore.” You looked over at Cassie with a guilty frown. “I just wish I could protect her from all of this.”

Five was silent for a moment as he took that in. “Look, I’m not a parent and I don’t pretend to know anything about marriage, but I can tell you that it sounds like you did her a favor. Growing up in a house with constant bickering can be stressful in its own right. And not seeing any love between parents is even worse. So, she’ll be more than fine. You showed her that everyone deserves to be happy and she’ll carry that with her as she grows older.”

It had been so long since someone had said exactly what you needed to hear, that you immediately started to tear up. Hurriedly wiping your eyes, you laughed at yourself.

“Sorry, I’m not sure what’s wrong with me.” You looked up at Five with a grateful smile and patted his hand that was next to yours. “Thank you for that. You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Five swallowed nervously and looked down at your hand on top of his. “You’re welcome. And who knows, maybe you’ll find the right person down the road.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, taking in his clear green eyes. “Maybe I will.”

“Mommy look!” Cassie shrieked with a laugh, jarring you and Five out of your moment.

You quickly pulled your hand away, turning your attention back to your daughter. She was standing there, smiling ear to ear, as a small, skinny pigeon sat on her shoulder like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“It likes me!”

Five laughed, shaking his head. “I have been coming here for months and not one of those damn birds has ever sat on me like that.”

You laughed, too. “Unbelievable.”

“What’s this one’s name, Five?” Cassie giggled.

“Oh, uh…yeah, that’s…Fred.”

As Cassie continued on, feeding and talking to Fred, you looked over at Five. “What was that about?”

He ran a hand through his hair and lowered his voice. “I actually call that one Fuck Face.”

When you doubled over with laughter, Five grinned from ear to ear. He’d never made anyone laugh like that before, and it was the best he’d felt in a very long time.

Over the next few weeks, you and Five built up a close friendship. He listened to your stories about single mom life and how it could be lonely and difficult. You listened to his stories of his traumatic past and how he was attempting to live as a normal man for once in his life. The conversation came easily and you never felt awkward around one another. Soon, he had integrated himself into your life, and into Cassie’s, too.

She loved spending time with Five, and on the days when you didn’t see him, she always asked about him. He liked to tease her and she was always ready with her own zingers to sling back at him. When she told him bad knock knock jokes, he would groan and tell her how horrible they were, but he would be smiling the whole time. You would sit back, watching their banter, thinking how cute they were. 

There were more play dates at the park, more bird feedings, then lunch at a café, and eventually Sunday dinners at your house. Five had never felt this comfortable in his own skin before, and he actually thought he might have found what he had been looking for this whole time. Happiness.

Even though he had become such a big part of your life in such a short time, you and Five had not moved past the friends stage. You were still a little gun shy after the divorce, and you weren’t even sure Five was interested in you that way. Sure, there had been several times when you had caught him looking at you in that way that made your heart do a little flip in your chest. And maybe your breath hitched a little whenever his hand brushed against yours in passing. But you liked how things were between you. At least for now.

Five wasn’t sure how you felt about him, either. He knew you were coming off a bad relationship and you probably wanted nothing to do with men for the time being. He definitely liked spending time with you, though. He found he looked forward to it more and more. Seeing you smile when you saw him was the best part of his day. But he didn’t want to assume you were interested in anything more. If he made a move and you shot him down, not only would it be embarrassing, it might ruin what you already had. And that was too important to lose.

The three of you were at the park again, and you watched as Cassie dragged Five off toward her favorite twisty slide, taking his hand and pulling him along while he pretended to grumble about it. After he was forced to slide down the plastic slide, you laughed loudly when you saw him reach the bottom.

“What?” he asked, brushing the dust off of his pristinely pressed slacks.

“Your hair!” you laughed. “The static made it stick straight up!”

He patted at his crazy hair with a frown and tried to smash it down, which made you laugh even harder. After Cassie came tumbling out of the slide herself, Five pretended to be annoyed with her.

“Hey, kid, you didn’t tell me that slide would mess up my hair.”

Cassie giggled. “You look funny. Like a porcupine.”

After Five fixed himself as best he could, Cassie took his hand and tugged on it again, this time trying to get him to crouch down to her level. When he did, she rested her hand on his forehead for a second, pulling it back with a frown. Then she looked at Five with a shake of her head. “You don’t feel hot.”

“Should I? I’m not feeling sick.”

She looked over at you. “I heard you talking to Taylor’s mom at the bus stop and you said Five was hot.” She put her hand on his cheek. “He feels normal.”

If the ground suddenly opened up and swallowed you whole, you would not have been more grateful. Instead, you remained frozen, your face on fire and your mouth trying to form words that wouldn’t come.

“Uh…” was all that you stammered out.

In true kid fashion, Cassie was oblivious to the faux pas she created. As Five slowly stood up again, and Cassie skipped off to the swing set, unbothered by it all, his eyes met yours. The self-satisfied smirk on his face spoke a thousand words.

“You said I was hot?”

“I…no…I mean well yeah…kind of…” you tried to stumble your way through a cohesive sentence.

Five adopted his typical cool stance, with his hands in his pockets, as he continued to grin like an absolute asshole. “So, is Taylor’s mom cute? Did you give her my number?”

After a few more seconds of being mortified, you started to see the humor in the situation. You relaxed and laughed quietly, looking at the ground with a shake of your head. “Damn it, you’re an asshole sometimes, you know?”

“But still hot, right?”

“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” you said with a groan.

Five shook his head slowly. “Probably not.”

As you ran a hand down your still-flushed face, you sighed. With a raised eyebrow, you jabbed a finger in his direction. “You fucking know you’re hot, too. That’s what makes it worse.” When he laughed, but didn’t deny it, you sighed again.

On your way over to the swings, Five bumped you with his elbow. “You’re pretty hot yourself, you know.”

When you looked over, you saw the corner of his mouth turn up as he swallowed hard. His eyes skirted away from yours as he looked at the ground.

“Thanks, Five,” you said, suddenly feeling very warm again.

“You’re welcome.”

It was a few days later when your little trio was walking to the park from your house. After Five had joined you for dinner, you had decided to take some of the leftover bread to his group of feathered friends. As you got close to Five’s regular bench, Cassie stopped him.

“Wait. Can you do the whooshing thing with me?”

Five chuckled. “You mean blinking? I suppose. If your mom doesn’t mind.”

“You can do my mom, too,” Cassie added.

Trying to hide a laugh, he nodded. “I would love to do your mom.”

Even though that little side comment sent a tingle down your spine, you pretended you hadn’t noticed. “It’s ok, you two go ahead.”

Five shot you a very devious grin before grabbing you both by the arms and blinking you over to the bench. Your shriek of surprise was cut short as you appeared out of his portal. Cassie was falling on the ground in a fit of giggles while you tried to catch your breath with a hand on your chest.

“Sorry,” Five said, unsuccessfully holding back his own glee.

“You are not, liar,” you laughed.

With a shrug and a grin, Five handed Cassie the bread for the birds. “Here you go, kid, they should be pretty happy with this feast.”

When Cassie opened the bag and spread the crumbs on the ground, the birds descended, recognizing their new, smaller food-bringer.

“Mr. Tippington, it’s ok,” Cassie cooed to the little brown bird that had become her favorite. “Trucker Bob, you’ll like today’s dinner, it’s bread!” She swatted the angry blue jay away, just like Five had shown her. “Sandra Jay…you be nice or no one will be your friend.”

Sitting next to Five, on the bench where you had first saw him talking to those ridiculous birds, you turned to him and studied his profile. You knew his face more intimately than anyone else’s, you thought. How many times had you stared at it while he was talking? Taking in the sharp angles of his jaw and the way he swept the hair out of his eyes with an agitated hand. It made you wonder…what was stopping you from doing what you really wanted?

Out of nowhere, you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but let out a short burst of laughter because the expression on his face was one of complete and utter confusion.

“Sorry,” you said, looking down at your lap. “I couldn’t resist.”

After a few seconds of Five trying to get his wits about him again, he smiled. “I’m so glad you did that first.”

“What do you mea—”

Your question was cut off by Five’s lips meeting yours, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. His kiss was soft and pure, and unlike any other kiss you’d had before. When you finally opened your eyes, meeting his gorgeous emerald ones, you felt so good you couldn’t contain your giant grin.

“I’m not sure what took me so long,” you confessed.

“Me either,” Five said with a chuckle before leaning in again, letting himself get lost in the softness of your lips and the sound of your quiet, contented sigh.

It was magical, pure and simple, and he wasn’t even sure how this was even possible. He wasn’t sure he was deserving of it, but he would take it.

“EW!!!”

You and Five jumped, pulling apart abruptly as Cassie looked on, hands on her hips.

“That’s gross,” she complained.

“Sorry, honey, uh…Five and I were just…”

“Mommy, I’m not dumb. I know you were kissing and it’s definitely yucky. You’re going to get germs.” She paused. “Are you married now?”

Five laughed, and covered your hand with his. “No, we’re not married. But we like each other, is that ok?”

Cassie thought for a moment, the birds around her seeming to stop and think with her. “Yeah, it’s ok. Just remember I want a baby sister, not a baby brother.” Then she turned back to her birds, ignoring the two shocked adults.

“Well…sorry about that,” you responded with a cringe.

“No need to apologize. These are all good things to know. Yes to a baby sister, no to a baby brother.”

“Oh my gosh,” you said, covering your eyes in embarrassment.

Five gently moved your hand away. When you looked back at him, his soft smile told you everything you needed to know. And when he leaned in for another kiss, you felt like you were finally where you were supposed to be.

“I want this. Do you?” he asked, his voice heartbreakingly quiet.

You nodded. “Yes. I feel like…like we’re meant to be somehow. Does that make sense?”

“It makes perfect sense,” Five said before kissing you once again, cradling your face in his hand.

Five had found what he had never dared to dream of. Someone he didn’t have to lie to, or pretend with, or put up a wall against. You liked him for who he was, and he wasn’t ashamed of anything when he was with you. You brought out all of the good within him, and he never felt safer than when he was with you and Cassie. You and she were his found family; the key to his happiness.

As for you, you had finally found the right person. Somehow, Five had become your best friend and confidant. And now, he was something more. Someone that understood you and knew the real you, all the way down to your bones. He was all you had been waiting for, and you couldn’t wait to start a new chapter of your life with him.

[odilelajolie]

Hunted, Ch. 1

Summary:

Several years after escaping FBI custody, Cooper Adams has quietly settled in a remote Vermont town. He's a monster in remission--his violent urges lay dormant.

But when he catches sight of Alice, a traumatized 18-year-old girl, a new form of predatory darkness overtakes his demented mind. Young and achingly vulnerable, she's a lost soul as alone in the world as he is.

Alice needs the care of a proper Daddy, and as soon as she stops resisting, Cooper knows she'll accept the special kind of love he's been saving for a special little girl like her...

Ch. 1: Sugar, Spice, and Everything Nice

As far as Alice could tell, it would be yet another ordinary night in a long sequence of ordinary nights at the Sugar Maple Diner. 

Though it wasn’t as if she entirely minded. There was a strong part of her that actually took comfort in the familiarity of it all, the mundane routine of her small, simple world, regardless of the fact that it was rather dull most days. 

Dull meant safe—and safe was a good thing, especially for someone like her. 

Alice absently rotated her sore neck and shoulders as she made her way into the cozy, 50s-nostalgic restaurant, offering a friendly wave to the owner, Mr. Andrews, one of the only people in town who still bothered to interact with her. Not only had he given her a job when everyone else had refused to hire her, but he and his wife had even opened their home to Alice on occasion for a glass of lemonade, or tea and cookies, or a holiday meal. 

Alice rarely accepted these invitations from the elderly couple, always fearful she’d inadvertently exhaust the goodwill they generously harbored for her. But she appreciated their kindness, an increasing rarity for Alice, so she was always happy to volunteer whenever they needed help with little projects around their house to express her gratitude in return. 

Alice idled near the jukebox just beyond the hostess stand to see if Mr. Andrews would return her greeting, but he was busy behind the bar serving beer to a group of chatty truckers, and clearly didn’t have much spare time to say hello. 

Shaking off the brief, sharp pang of loneliness, the aching desire for someone—anyone—to talk to her, Alice headed straight for the break room to change into her uniform—an old fashioned pale pink dress with a white apron. She secured her hair in a high ponytail, and exactly five minutes before six p.m., she returned to the main dining room for her shift, forcing a smile on her face. 

The hours elapsed in the same, slow fashion they always did. The dinner rush—if merely five parties of no more than four people across three hours could be called that—consisted of the same group of Tuesday night regulars Alice had been waiting on for nearly a year now. Alice no longer bothered with trying to introduce herself, much less engage in small talk with her tables, for the town locals had long made it very clear ever since her return that they had no interest in speaking with her. So instead, Alice remained small and silent as she scribbled orders on her notepad, taking up as little space as possible as she refilled drinks, cleaned up spills, and delivered steaming plates of comfort food from the kitchen.

And she did all of this with her head perpetually lowered, so that no one would have to suffer the unnecessary discomfort of looking at her. 

By ten o’clock, the restaurant was deserted, and the only other employee remaining was Ted, the largely wordless cook who kept to himself even more strictly than Alice did. Alice generally took her own meal break around this time when it was just the two of them twiddling their thumbs until closing, silence broken only by the rockabilly and Doo-wop melodies sung by the jukebox. But before she could write down her request for a cup of soup and a half-sandwich, losing herself for a few moments to the croons of Elvis Presley—wring my faithful heart; tear it all apart; but love me—the door chime cheerfully rang, signaling the arrival of a customer. 

Alice gulped at the intimidating sight of the new arrival, and he was definitely new—she surely would have noticed him around the tiny town before now if he were a local. He was almost as broad as he was tall—and he was frighteningly tall—with the build of an elite athlete, like a champion MMA fighter, his long limbs hard and big and savage. The charcoal sweater and dark jeans he wore actually seemed to struggle to keep his toned muscles contained. 

He had thick, silky hair the color of dark roast coffee, and a closely-shorn mustache and short, angular beard. He was a very handsome man, perhaps in his early-to-mid forties, but when Alice finally met his eyes, she was instantly rendered breathless by a powerful, inexplicable sense of sheer terror that seemed to seize her by the throat, and choke her. 

Shadowed by a prominent brow bone, his inky, hooded eyes were disturbingly dark. Chilling. They reminded Alice of the eyes of a shark. Fathomless. Cold. 

Predatory. 

“Hey there…can I get a table?” 

Unlike his frightening eyes, the velvety timber of the man’s deep voice actually inspired an equally strong sense of comfort—relief—causing the paranoid internal alarms within her body to faintly recede. 

Alice was rendered profoundly unbalanced, nearly on the verge of collapsing to the floor from the whiplash of such opposing instincts.

Perplexed by her body’s strange reactions to the stranger, Alice quickly nodded and dutifully lowered her head. She reached for a menu and silently beckoned the man to follow her, her shoulders arched nearly all the way to her ears as she timidly guided him to her favorite booth by the windows with the prettiest view of the forest.

He followed her with slow, heavy foot falls, and Alice nearly caved in on herself when she was directly confronted with just how much bigger he was up close as he slid into the booth with athletic, equanimous movements. 

Even sitting down, he was huge. 

Alice placed the menu on the table once he appeared settled, and reached into her apron pocket for her notepad and pen, waiting expectantly for him to provide his drink order, as all other customers automatically did upon sitting. 

But when he didn’t speak after several moments, Alice shyly raised her head, and was surprised to find the man gently smiling at her. 

He looked even more handsome when he smiled—

“There you are,” he said warmly, his voice triggering a sudden influx of delightful tingles throughout her weary muscles. “How are you doing tonight?”

Too stunned to speak, Alice felt hot blush rising to her cheeks in embarrassment. 

How long had it been since someone had asked her how she was? 

Seemingly sensing her unease, the man continued, “Sorry—you probably don’t want to talk with an old man like me,” he said ruefully, and Alice was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt. This handsome stranger was being more sociable with her than anyone had in months, and she was messing everything up. “Would it be possible to order—”

“I’m A-Alice,” she interrupted shakily—awkwardly—cheeks boiling at the mousy sound of her own voice. 

To her relief, the man’s smile only widened, and there was a flicker of playfulness in his eyes, somewhat tempering the otherwise unnerving quality in his dark gaze. 

“That’s a very pretty name,” he replied. “I’m Cooper.”

Cooper. Alice repeated the name in her head. It sounded strong and masculine.

She quite liked it. 

“Put us together and we’re rock stars,” he added. Alice frowned in confusion. “I…I don’t follow—”

“Alice Cooper?” Alice shook her head, and Cooper released a slow sigh. “Ahh…don’t mind me—I’m betraying my age here. He’s before your time.”

“Oh. Okay.” Alice swallowed hard. “Umm…w-welcome to the S-Sugar Maple Diner,” she offered, remembering she needed to do her job. It had been so long since she’d been required to introduce herself to a customer that Alice was quickly finding she was woefully out of practice with the basics. “M-may I get you something to drink, sir?” 

“Well I was taking a look at what you have on tap, but I notice you don’t have a bartender right now,” Cooper mentioned. “And I suspect you’re not quite old enough to legally go behind the bar.”

“Yeah…the bar closes at nine on weekdays. Mr. Andrews—he’s the owner—he already left for the night, and he usually handles that stuff.” Embarrassed, Alice tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Call me Cooper.”

“I’m sorry, Cooper.”

“So, how old are you?”

“Eighteen—but I’ll be nineteen next month.”

She wasn’t sure why she shared that detail. It certainly wasn’t as if her upcoming birthday made her seem any less young and pathetic. 

“Ahh…definitely too young to pour alcohol.” Cooper softly chuckled, his deep-chested rumble pleasantly tickling her ears. “In that case, how about a nice cold glass of Coke?”

“Would you prefer a frosted glass or ice?”

“Ice, please.”

Alice wrote down the order with a nod. “Coke with ice, coming right up.”

She began to turn on her toes to prepare his soda, but then he spoke again.

“So what do you recommend here?” Cooper asked. 

“Recommend?” Alice repeated slowly. “You mean…to eat?”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Alice realized what a stupid response it truly was.

The townsfolk’s collective avoidance of her was clearly not entirely to blame for her poor conversation skills. 

Of course he was asking her what to eat. She was a waitress. It was her job.

Mercifully, Cooper didn’t poke fun at her idiocy. “Yeah, what’s your favorite thing on the menu?” he asked. “If you were to join me for a meal, what would you order?”

Alice squeaked, “You want me to join you?” 

Cooper’s eyes widened, and he appeared even more shocked than she was. “Well, I was speaking hypothetically, but…sure! Why not. Care to join me?”

Alice thought she might actually pass out from embarrassment. 

Not only had she forgotten how to have a normal conversation, but she’d forgotten all about basic social cues. Sarcasm. Hypotheticals. 

Cooper was being friendly. Nothing more. He didn’t actually want to spend time with her—he just had good manners. 

“Umm…I’m really not supposed to…” Alice trailed off, nervously biting her lip. 

Unperturbed, Cooper shrugged his mountainous shoulders. “Perhaps some other time then.” Leaning forward, he lowered his voice and added in a conspiratorial murmur, “I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble on my account.” 

There was an undeniably patronizing quality to his warm baritone, but it wasn’t condescending in a negative way. The lilting way Cooper spoke was gentle, daresay caring, the low pitch of his manly deepness perfectly matched with a bright, uplifting enthusiasm.

Cooper spoke to her the way Alice remembered her own father used to speak to her—as if no one else in the world existed. As if she were important.

As if every word she spoke were the most brilliant thing ever to be uttered in history of the world, and he couldn’t get enough. 

Cooper had a…Dad voice, the kind of voice that felt like a warm, clean blanket fresh out of the dryer. 

He had a voice of absolute safety—a voice that made her feel brave. 

Like she could do anything. 

“I recommend the deluxe cheeseburger with fries,” Alice said, unable to contain her giddy smile. “Ted makes the best in town.”

Cooper kept a careful gaze on Alice through his peripherals as he chewed and swallowed the mediocre cheeseburger, though he made sure to provide plenty of appreciative grunts and moans throughout his labored consumption for the girl’s benefit. 

He’d been patiently watching her for nearly a year now. It wouldn’t do well to worry the skittish thing when he was so close to finally making her his, for little Alice was a painfully insecure, highly sensitive girl. She was pitifully naïve and defenseless, lonely and desperate for affection.

She was perfect—and finally ripe for his taking. 

When he’d originally made the decision to settle down in the middle of fucking nowhere, Vermont after several years on the run, he’d simply planned on living quietly for whatever remained of his existence. The monster within lay dormant—at least for now—the compulsion to destroy and dissect no longer eroding what little remained of his sanity. The urge had been a sickness, a magmatic fever, burning so hot in his veins it was boiling him alive. Cooper knew quite well it would have killed him eventually. 

But now, his insides were…cooler, warm instead of blisteringly hot, and the dark, animalistic impulses currently thrumming through his body were far less bloodthirsty in nature compared to his prior proclivities. 

Perhaps he was in remission. 

He’d spent more than forty years keeping the two opposing halves of his psyche strictly separate, diligently compartmentalizing every aspect of his life down to the most minute detail, but when he’d caught sight of this tiny angel of a girl almost ten months ago—so sweet and innocent and frightened and alone—Cooper was leveled, and struck with an epiphanic clarity.

Perhaps the separatist approach to mitigating his dangerous urges no longer served him. 

Perhaps the only way for him to survive was by reconciling his infernal hungers, once and for all. 

When Cooper had escaped FBI custody—doubling his body count in the process—he’d been forced to accept that the closest thing to real human connection he’d ever been able access, his family, was lost to him forever. He missed being a husband. He missed being a father. 

But when he saw Alice, he realized he could still be both.

She was as alone in the world as he was, an isolated little girl shunned by nearly everyone around her. At merely eighteen, she was young and exceedingly vulnerable, in dire need of a loving authority figure to guide her and keep her safe. 

And yet, she was also a woman. Barely legal, but a woman nonetheless, and a mouthwatering one at that. Alice was a tiny thing, shorter even than Riley was when he last saw her, her petite body a tight little package of soft, untouched femininity he was growing more and more ravenous to taste.  

Cooper had always been partial to blondes, and his little Alice was a natural platinum. A “baby” blonde. 

Sweet little baby blonde with her pretty baby blue eyes—

With her milky skin and delicate features—not to mention those pouty pink lips just begging to have something hard shoved between them—Alice could look like a porcelain doll one moment, and a sex kitten the next. She was an undeniably gorgeous girl, not yet aware of her erotic allure, and under different circumstances, he knew she could have had any man on his knees begging to fuck her.

Fortunately for him, the entire town thought she was batshit crazy.

And Cooper was certainly not one to be put off by a little madness—

“How’s your dinner?” Alice asked sweetly from a few tables away. She’d been refilling ketchup bottles and rolling silverware for the last twenty minutes or so, responding beautifully—albeit awkwardly—to his subtle prompts for casual conversation.

Cooper wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin and made an exaggerated show of patting his stomach. “You were right—this is the best burger I’ve ever had,” he lied smoothly. “Excellent recommendation, sweetheart.”

The girl’s cheeks instantly flooded with pretty pink blush—she likes being called sweetheart—and she shyly lowered her head, but couldn’t resist looking back at him mere seconds later with a demure giggle.   

Good girl. She found him attractive. 

His depraved plans would be much easier for her to adapt to with her sexual attraction already engaged—

“Can I get you anything else, Cooper?” Alice asked. She sounded hopeful. 

His left eye twitched at her use of his first name, one of the few…ticks beyond his control, as a small spark of violent rage kindled deep in his gut, leaving a sickly metallic taste in his mouth. 

The urge. 

Cooper was suddenly overcome with a vision—a lucid hallucination, really—of marching directly to where the girl stood, and shoving her to the floor so quickly the air would be knocked out of her lungs. He saw himself tearing off her clothes and wrapping his big hands around narrow torso, and squeezing, hard enough to crack her ribs, before mounting her like a beast in the wild, ready to take his quivering bitch in heat. He wanted to feel her small, supple body struggling beneath him, his scared, mewling kitten desperate to free herself by any means necessary.

He wanted her to scream. He wanted her to cry.

She was so fucking tiny he’d absolutely crush her with his size. Cooper was already far bigger than most people, but compared to his little girl, his sweet little nymph, he was indestructible, as vast and powerful as a god. 

He could do anything he wanted to her. He could violate her beyond recognition.

He could fuck her within an inch of her life—

Realizing he’d zoned out far longer than intended, he released a sharp exhale to snuff out the ember of fury, reminding himself that it was perfectly okay that the girl was calling him Cooper—for now. 

She’d be calling him Daddy soon enough. 

He forced himself to smile, carefully schooling his features to the affable façade he used specifically for putting people at ease. 

Like clockwork, the girl visibly relaxed. 

“Just the check please, sweetheart.”

Hunted Ch. 2: Dream A Little Dream Of Me

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58229851/chapters/148279471

[evilminji]

A Moral Dilemma! Question!

Let's say there is a trucker. An average man. Kind enough, did okay in school, loves his wife and misses her like you wouldn't believe every time he has to go. Misses his little girl even more. HATES he's missing the early years of her life. First day to school, getting her up and brushing her hair into pigtails, making pancakes like his Pa used to make. The works.

But the economy is shit. Him and his wife have to work. Make ends meet. They're DESPERATE to get out of Gotham. Move somewhere boring. Safe.

But... well, places like that cost money. Kids cost money. And he did OKAY in school. Not a lot of jobs out there for "Okay" guys from Gotham.

His cousin finds him a route though. A solid job. Really pulled through when push came to shove and things were looking bad. Like he might have to take up that offer to Goon. Now he's a trucker.

And his route? Well the half way point is Amity Park. He stops to stay the night every time. Never really STAYS, has heard they got themselves a Cape and such, but? It is what it is. He's from Gotham. He minds his business. Parks on the outskirts of town to avoid getting hit.

Doesn't realize, he's getting SOAKED in Ectoplasm every time he's in town.

And this trucker? Not the healthiest man. He wishes he could be. But life on the road is not exactly conducive to fresh fruit and leafy greens. He eats more grease and sugar then his doctor would EVER recommend. In fact, has specifically warned him not too.

But some days you just need a warm meal. You miss your kid, your wife, your bed. And you know it'll be days before you can see any of them. But at least there is pancakes.

You can pretend you're eating with your family. Or at least, let the coffee be warm enough for the two of you. God, but the poor man is tired.

And as he gets close to Gotham?

Breaking News!

The Joker. AGAIN. The trucker cringes, horror filling him. What poor soul has that mad man hurt NOW? When will it end? Him and his wife are so close to getting the hell out. Thinking Kansas. His wife has been joking about pie baking competit-

No.

Oh God No.

There, on the screen, tears streaming down her beautiful face? Is the love of his life. His best friend. His EVERYTHING. And in her arms, trying so, so hard to be quiet. To muffle her terror born sobs... is his little girl. One pigtail torn from its srunchie, blood on her tiny face.

The trucker knows how this story ends.

Batman will try. He ALWAYS tries. And sometimes... sometimes that's enough. But he knows the odds here. His family are in front. Stars of this sick show. The trucker can't breathe. His heart is pounding, too hard for a man of his health.

He's not young. Should be on blood pressure meds he simply cant afford. Is panicked by a terror few should ever suffer. And? What runs in his family, strikes true. It feels so far away, the pain in his chest. He... No, he can't.

He can't.

His family.

He can't die. Leave them. They're in danger! They can't die like this. So close to freedom. Happiness. They... the..y.. ca..n..t...

.

.

THEY WON'T. HE REFUSES.

~~~

So! Here in comes the QUESTION! As you sit, watching this terrified child call for her father, ripped from her begging mothers arms, you see a green opaque man full body tackle the Joker.

You watch his eyes visible glow and change color, fight a visible STRUGGLE, like jeckle and Hyde, for control of his body. Between the monster known as Joker and what seems to be? The little girl's newly Meta father.

The Father wins.

You watch the Bat arrive with the police. Thank the man and say he can release Joker into custody. See the EXACT moment the Meta realizes something. Turns to look at his daughter, then his wife. Looks back at the commissioner.

Says "No".

Is he right to do this? To Possess the Joker, as a life sentence, to insure the safety of others? He is perfectly will to sit that life in a jail cell. Knows he will never be allowed to roam free again. But! The Joker is contained.

Is this Right? Or merely emotionally satisfying?

Discuss :3

@hypewinter @hdgnj @the-witchhunter @ailithnight @nerdpoe

[witchywithwhiskey]

trucker prince charming (part 2)

pairing: trucker!jake jensen x sex worker!female reader

summary: you take your favorite trucker up on his offer to meet him at his rig after you finish your shift at the strip club where you work—and it's better than you imagined, which means you're in trouble.

warnings: 18+ content (minors do not interact!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, condom discussion, dry humping, marking/hickeys, finger sucking, begging, teasing, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (kitten), sex worker insecurities, referenced glory hole sex, referenced abuse of power, love confession, a lot of emotions—let me know if i missed something!

word count: 9.5k

a/n: god i hope this chapter works 🫣 i struggled with it a bit, to make reader's reluctance consistent and believable. but i also wanted to to be like super romantic, so yeah, i hope it is!!! ahhh ok please enjoy more trucker jake—i hope y'all love him as much as i do!!!

trucker king masterlist

Excitement and fear roiled in the pit of your stomach, making you feel slightly queasy as you shoved your cash tips from the night into your purse in the back room of Diesel Dolls. In fact, you were trembling so hard, if you’d been wearing a pair of the sky high heels you wore when you worked the stage, you’d be worried about breaking an ankle. But your thoughts were elsewhere, on the trucker who was absolutely not your prince charming. 

As you gathered your things, all you could think about was your favorite trucker who visited you often in the glory holes at the back of the club. Jake Jensen was everything you shouldn’t want. He was one of Diesel Dolls’ most reliable regulars, always stopping by the glory holes when he passed by on the interstate—though, ever since he’d started coming to you, you were the only one he’d let take care of him.

Still, his status as a regular made any kind of outside relationship with him strictly off-limits according to the owner of the club, Mr. Ransom Drysdale. 

Mr. Drysdale didn’t take kindly to girls who formed relationships with his trucker clientele outside the club, he said it was too much of a risk of the girl stealing his business. And if Mr. Drysdale suspected anything, he was known for his harsh, humiliating punishments. He wouldn’t fire you if he found out you were planning to meet up with Jake after your shift, but he’d find a creative way for you to regret it.

Even with that thought in your mind, you couldn’t get Jake’s parting words out of your head. You kept hearing his friendly, sweet and deliciously deep voice saying to you, “I’m sleeping in my rig tonight…in case you wanna stop by.” 

Those had been the final words he’d spoken to you when he’d come to your spot at the glory holes earlier that evening, but he’d left before you could respond to the obvious offer. A part of you was grateful he hadn’t demanded an answer from you in the moment, since it meant you could think it over without any pressure from him. But it also meant that, hours later, you were still uncertain about what you were going to do. 

You were still debating it with yourself when you threw on a long jacket to cover the skimpy tank top and shorts you wore when working the glory holes, and walked out the back door of Diesel Dolls. There, you stopped short. 

In your preoccupation with Jake, you’d forgotten what to expect when leaving the club. A few of the other girls lingered outside smoking cigarettes and chatting with the security guards tasked with walking you and your coworkers to your cars. There was a bite of chill in the air that had you wrapping your coat tighter around your body while you wavered in indecision, the audience making you more anxious about what to do.

“Need a cig, girl?” asked Crystal, one of the girls that had been working at Diesel Dolls even longer than you. She held out her pack to you, her own cigarette pinched between two fingers, the smoke trailing up toward the late night sky. Her eyes were sharp as they watched you, even if her open expression seemed to be nice.

You gave Crystal a tight smile and shook your head, muttering, “No thanks.” You could feel Crystal’s eyes on you as you took two steps into the parking lot, which made the fear in your chest burn brighter than the excitement Jake’s offer had inspired.

Crystal liked to make herself out to be the motherly one of the bunch who worked at the club, the kind who would give advice to the new girls and commiserate with those who’d been working at Diesel Dolls too long. But you’d noticed the way things that seemed to only be said to Crystal had a way of getting back to Mr. Drysdale. That was enough to have your shoulders bunching up around your ears.

Crystal was the last person you wanted to see you walking to Jake’s truck. But you didn’t want to give up on him yet. You’d known Jake for a couple months while he’d been frequenting your glory hole, and you were so desperately curious about him, that you didn’t want to pass up on the opportunity. So you pulled out your phone and pretended to be texting someone while you hoped the group outside the back door dispersed.

Thankfully, they all seemed to finish up soon enough and Crystal went back inside while the security guards split up to walk the other girls to their cars. You waved them off when they offered to walk you as well, claiming you had a ride coming and waited until they rounded the side of the building to where most of the girls parked their cars.

For a brief moment, you were alone with nothing but the clear night air and your thoughts. You knew it was a bad idea to go to Jake, but the pull you felt to him was too strong. It was bound to get you into some kind of trouble, whether with Mr. Drysdale or something you couldn’t even anticipate. You typically prided yourself in having a great deal of sense, but everything about your favorite trucker made you want to act like you didn’t have any. 

Before you’d even fully made up your mind, your feet began to carry you in the direction you knew you’d be able to find him. For once, your heart seemed to be making the decisions and though your brain was still listing all the ways in which things could go wrong—Jake could be horrid in person, or he could fuck you and go around the club bragging about it—they didn’t seem as important as finally finding out what it would feel like to fall into your favorite trucker’s arms. 

Diesel Dolls had a small parking lot in front and to one side of the building, but on the other side, there was a much bigger parking lot that the strip club shared with Everett’s Roadhouse. It was big enough to accommodate all the truckers and their rigs who frequented both the club and the bar. It also had special permissions that allowed the truckers to sleep there over night. 

It was to this parking lot that your feet carried you. 

You breathed a sigh of relief when you were swallowed up by the shadows of the massive trucks in the parking lot, your soft exhale masking the sound of the back door of Diesel Dolls closing. You didn’t hear it, though, because you were too focused on looking for the truck Jake had described to you.

Turning a corner around a big white rig, you spotted the truck that could only belong to your favorite trucker. And standing in front of it, leaning against the grill at the front, was a man. Your heart leapt in your chest as you realized it could only be him. Your favorite trucker. Your Jakey. 

Your breath caught in your throat and your feet stumbled to a stop. He hadn’t noticed you yet, and you took the moment to look him over, greedily raking your eyes down his body while he stared at something on his phone. 

Jake looked tall, even from the little bit of distance between you, with broad shoulders that filled out the bright green t-shirt he wore, which had some kind of graphic printed on the front. His jeans were a basic blue denim that fit him a little snugly, and he wore work boots that were kicking idly at the pavement of the parking lot, like he was struggling to be patient.

But what caught your attention the most about Jake was his face. You were a little surprised to discover that Jake wore glasses, but that was maybe because you’d never seen another trucker who wore them. You stared at his side profile for a long time, appreciating his strong jaw accented by the goatee framing his soft mouth. His dark hair lightened at the spiky tips, and for some reason, you found yourself craving to touch it, to run your hands through it.

All at once, you realized you’d been right about Jake—he was cute. And not just cute, he was fucking hot. You’d never seen a man who could pull off both, but your favorite trucker managed it. 

Your heart thudded in your chest and if you’d been thinking with anything but your heart, you’d have been worried about your reaction to the man who you knew you couldn’t be with. But you were only admiring your favorite trucker and thinking about how cute he looked waiting for you.

You didn’t realize you’d been slowly drifting closer to Jake until he straightened suddenly, and looked straight at you. Your breath froze in your lungs when you met his gaze, startling at the bright blue of his eyes, even shadowed as they were in the dim light of the parking lot. Your feet came to an abrupt stop and you waited anxiously while Jake took his own inspection of you, hoping desperately that he wouldn’t find you lacking.

But there was no long perusal of your body, only brief moment when eh let his gaze drop to your lips before he caught your eye again. A charmingly friendly grin spread across his handsome face, excitement rolling off him in waves that made you feel giddy.

“Kitten?” he asked, a little hesitantly. Almost like he was a little shy. 

If you hadn’t already been certain the man was Jake, his voice would’ve convinced you. It was warm and pleasantly deep, sending a delicious shiver of recognition down your spine, heat blooming in the depth of your core. A small, tentative smile curved the edges of your mouth as you walked closer to your favorite trucker, noticing that he stayed near his truck and let you come to him. 

“Jake,” you said, his name gusting past your lips in an awed exhale. He looked even more handsome up close, and your eyes couldn’t stop taking in the lines and curves of his face. You didn’t think you’d ever get enough of simply looking at him.

“You came.” He stated the obvious, his voice low and gruff with an emotion that tugged at something deep inside your chest. You were drawn in closer to your favorite trucker by some invisible tether that seemed to connect the two of you. So wrapped up in the moment, you didn’t even question why you felt so deeply for a man you were only truly meeting for the first time.

You came to a stop right in front of Jake, close enough you had to tilt your head back to hold his gaze—close enough you could feel the heat of him in the chilly night air. You wanted to press even closer and wrap yourself around the big, broad man, but you held yourself back, suddenly unsure how to act without a wall of plywood between you. 

“You’re cuter than I imagined,” you said, the words falling from your lips before you could stop them, amazement making your voice breathy.

But as soon as the words registered in your mind, you winced and pressed a hand over your mouth. You were about to apologize for the backhanded compliment when Jake laughed huskily, a little bit of pink tinging his cheeks, which only made him look even cuter.

“Ya think I’m cute, kitten?” he asked, his fingers reaching out and brushing against yours, electricity zinging through your body at just that brief touch. 

Your breath hitched as your body went haywire, desire flooding through your veins and making you sway into your favorite trucker. Jake seemed to notice your reaction because a grin spread across his face and he tangled his fingers with yours while he kept talking.

“Not hot, or sexy—or studly?” His voice went much deeper on that last word to emphasize it, and you couldn’t help the startled giggle that fled from your lips. You’d suspected Jake was funny, and you were delighted to discover you were right about that too.

Jake used the moment when your guard was down to pull you into his arms, where you landed against his chest with a small huff of surprise. Immediately, your laughter died in your throat and you stared up into Jake’s eyes while he watched you with a pleased smile curling the edges of his mouth.

The thought came to you suddenly: You could fall in love with Jake Jensen. In fact, you knew, somehow, that it would be as easy as breathing to fall in love with Jake. A small part of you even thought you already were falling in love with your favorite trucker. 

But as soon as you had those thoughts, you pushed them away, the fear you’d felt earlier rearing its ugly head. You couldn’t fall in love with Jake, not when you knew you’d never be able to be with him in the way you wanted. Developing feelings for him would only lead to getting hurt and you didn’t think you’d survive the kind of hurt falling love with Jake would lead to. So you forced yourself not to think about it.

Instead, you let yourself act on instinct. You reached up and traced your fingertips gently down the side of Jake’s face, your touch so light you weren’t sure if he could even feel it. But when you got to the plump curve of his lower lip, he sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes darkening as he stared down at you so intensely, your hand fell away to fist in the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

“I don’t meet a lot of cute guys in my line of work,” you whispered, the words part explanation, part distraction from the way Jake was looking at you like he planned to grab you and kiss you and never let you go. “It’s…” you trailed off, not knowing where you were going with that thought.

No, that was a lie, you knew exactly where you were going, you just got scared to continue it. But Jake was patient, and he waited, his gaze expectant, and you discovered you didn’t want to let him down—either with an attempt to change the subject or with a lie.

“It’s amazing,” you said, so softly, you weren’t sure he’d be able to hear. “You’re amazing, Jakey.” Your eyes fell to his lips, looking so soft and inviting. Your favorite trucker’s mouth was so tempting, and you knew you’d never be the same once he kissed you, which scared you more than a little, your heart thudding almost painfully in your chest.

Thankfully, Jake was brave enough for the both of you. 

His arms wound around your waist, knees bending to wrap you up in his hold and haul you up close to his chest, so you were left standing on tiptoes and staring up into his beautiful blue eyes. He lowered his face until your mouths were so close, you could taste the sharp mint of his breath on your tongue, but he didn’t close the distance. 

Your heart was racing with excitement and a little bit of fear, and you could feel Jake’s arousal through your clothes, but the tension of the moment was delicious and you didn’t mind if Jake wanted to take things a little slow. At least, for the moment.

“Fuck, kitten,” he rumbled, collapsing back against the grill of his truck while he stared at you with amazement in his blue eyes. “I’ll take cute as a compliment if you’re the one saying it,” he said, his voice pitched low and earnest. Your fingers twisted in his shirt, clinging to him as you watched the edges of his mouth curve into a grin. “Hell, you can call me a cute little pup and I’ll roll over so you can pet my belly.”

Jake’s arms squeezed you tightly, holding you pinned to his chest, and a distant part of you was surprised by the fact that you didn’t feel trapped by him. You felt impossibly giddy with happiness and excitement, warmth curling pleasantly through your body as you pressed tighter against him, feeling his hard cock digging into your stomach. He was so eager for you, and it was so hot because you wanted him just as badly, but you couldn’t help teasing him a little.

“I think puppy wants something more than belly rubs,” you murmured, a smirk curling your lips. You lifted one of your feet to rest on the grill of Jake’s truck, opening your legs to grind your core against his bulge, wringing a groan out of him, his hands fisting in the jacket at your back. 

“Mm, you feel so fucking good,” he rumbled in a husky voice, then paused, pulling back enough to catch your eye. He wore an adorably confused expression. “Hang on, are you calling me or my dick ‘puppy’?”

Jake’s question startled you so much, laughter burst free from your mouth unbidden; you had to tip your head back and close your eyes to let it loose. It was the hardest you’d laughed in a very long time, your body shaking in Jake’s arms and tears springing to the corners of your eyes. 

You could feel Jake chuckling right along with you, but when you finally sobered, he’d quieted and was simply looking at you, an emotion in his eyes that was so deep and terrifying it nearly stole all the breath from your lungs.

“You have the best laugh,” Jake muttered seconds before his mouth descended on yours, capturing your lips in a kiss. 

Your first kiss with Jake was everything you’d dreamed it would be, your body lighting up and your mind going blank in a combination of delight and arousal. His mouth was warm and soft on yours, the bristles of his goatee tickling your cheeks as your mouths slid together. A giggle rose in your throat and your mouth curved in a smile as giddiness flooded through you. 

Then Jake shifted his arms, one hand coming up to cradle your head while the other remained banded around your lower back, holding you exactly where he wanted you. He deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips and coaxing a moan from you as he explored the depths of your mouth. Jake’s kiss was heady and all-consuming and you never wanted it to end—you wanted to kiss him forever and ever and ever.

By the time Jake pulled away, your lungs were burning for air and you were left panting, dragging in as much oxygen as you could. He seemed to be in much the same predicament, his chest expanding where you were draped against it, his heart beating wildly beneath where your fingers were clinging to his t-shirt.

“So, you got a bed in that big rig of yours,” you managed to ask, in between panting breaths. “Or are you planning to fuck me right here against your truck?” A cheeky grin curved your lips and you ground your core against Jake again for good measure, making his eyes go dazed and dark. His hands grabbed your ass and held you tight against his bulge while he seemed to freeze. 

For a long moment, Jake just stared at you like his brain had short-circuited, and your grin widened at the realization that you’d somehow managed to render your favorite trucker speechless. Then, all of a sudden, he seemed to come back online and he shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. 

Tangling his fingers with yours, Jake led you around to the driver’s side of his rig and opened the door, helping you up into the cab. You took a quick, cursory look around the inside of Jake’s truck as you moved directly into the backseat, where there was a soft cot covered in a haphazard pile of blankets. The bed was messy and unkempt in a way that made you smile because it just seemed so much like Jake.

Looking around, you noted that the truck cab was warm, and a little cluttered, but cozy in its own way. You’d never actually seen the inside of a long-haul truck despite servicing countless drivers at Diesel Dolls, but everything looked so high tech, you would’ve thought you were in the cockpit of a spaceship. All the dials and controls on the dashboard gave off a soft blue light, including some of the panels in the backseat around Jake’s bed. 

When you looked closer, there appeared to be a gaming system and TV rigged up in the back, and you smiled again, imagining your favorite trucker spending his spare time gaming by himself. You couldn’t help the way your mind wandered, wondering if Jake might be interested in letting you keep his cock warm while he played his games…

You were distracted from that thought by Jake hauling himself into the driver’s seat and shutting the door behind him. He had a determined look on his face while he locked the truck’s doors, checking to make sure the space was secure before he turned to you in the backseat. The corner of your mouth kicked up in a sultry grin and you leaned back on your hands, pushing your tits out as your jacket parted, revealing the tiny crop top and shorts you wore beneath it.

In the privacy of his truck, Jake let his eyes wander down your body, lingering on the way your nipples pushed through the thin cotton of your shirt. They tightened further under the intensity of his gaze, and your lips parted in a gasping breath as heat blazed between your thighs. 

But Jake’s eyes were already moving on, his gaze roving over the curves of your waist and hips and down to the plush softness of your thighs. You could almost feel his gaze like a lingering touch as he looked at your body properly for the first time. If you’d had a chance to feel at all insecure about whether he’d like your curves, the way Jake’s pupils blew wide with lust would’ve quelled it. 

Jake spent long moments simply looking at you and, after you’d taken your own moment to get your fill of him before he’d noticed you in the parking lot, you tried to be patient. But the way your body was responding to just Jake’s eyes on you made you squirm on the bed, your thighs falling open of their own accord in a wordless offering for your favorite trucker. Finally, your impatience won out.

“Now that you’ve got me in your truck,” you murmured in a husky purr, smiling seductively when Jake’s eyes met yours again. “What do you plan on doing with me?” You shifted your shoulders, letting your jacket slip down your arms in a way that you hoped was enticing enough to make him want to rip it off you entirely.

Jake’s eyes darted to your bare shoulders then back to your face before he moved from his seat, prowling toward you in a way that looked more predatory than you would’ve expected from your sweet and friendly trucker. The intensity of his gaze on you sent a thrill through your body that only heightened as he eased closer, his hands sliding beneath your jacket to grab your hips roughly. 

Holding your gaze captive with his own, Jake eased you down onto your back until you were laying in his bed, his big body covering yours. Your lungs were struggling for air, little panting breaths slipping past your lips as you followed Jake’s lead, a part of you surprised by how easy it was to give in to your favorite trucker’s whims. But you trusted him—you trusted him in a way that was probably unwise, and it occurred to you yet again that being with your trucker could lead to serious trouble for you.

But then you were laying down in Jake’s soft bed, his broad shoulders and beautiful blue eyes blocking out the rest of the world, and your worries miraculously faded—helped by the fact that Jake decided to finally answer your question.

“I’ve thought about this so many times, kitten,” Jake rasped, his tone raw with emotion that had your heart racing in your chest.

There was a vulnerability in Jake’s words, and you couldn’t help but reach for him, cupping his handsome face in your hands. A soft smile played at the edges of your mouth, but it deepened when Jake leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed while he nuzzled into your palms. It took a moment for him to gather his thoughts enough to continue. 

“I’ve thought about getting you in my bed so many times, I can barely believe this is real,” Jake mumbled, the words sounding like they were wrenched straight from his heart. You could feel your own heart thump in response, a little bit of fear trickling through your body that you decided to ignore. “I plan to do everything with you kitten,” Jake murmured, opening his eyes and pinning you with his fervent gaze. “But most of all, I plan to keep you.”

Your breath froze in your lungs at Jake’s pronouncement, and fear flooded your heart. It was on the tip of your tongue to tell Jake it was impossible—he couldn’t keep you, not while you still worked at Diesel Dolls. Not while Mr. Drysdale still owned you.

Your entire livelihood was dependent on Mr. Drysdale and Diesel Dolls. He was the only one who’d hired you when you’d come to town. And, despite all his faults, Mr. Drysdale paid well—well enough that you could support yourself. If Jake jeopardized your job at Diesel Dolls, you’d have to become dependent on him to take care of you, and you didn’t know yet if he was the kind of man who’d do that, though the part of you that was falling love with him told you that he would.

It surprised you—and scared you—how much you wanted to give your heart and soul and everything to Jake. You yearned for him in a way you never had for any other man. You felt almost desperate for your favorite trucker to be true to his word, to keep you and take care of you and make you his in every possible way. 

But you had too much sense to let yourself fall into Jake’s arms completely just yet. So you reminded yourself that your life was not a fairytale, and Jake wasn’t your prince charming. No matter how much you might want him to be. Jake was a trucker, and if you knew one thing about truckers, it was that eventually, they always leave. It wasn’t worth risking your entire life for the chance of a happily ever after with him, even if your heart yearned for it.

So, while you wanted to believe Jake meant what he said—that he was going to keep you—you simply couldn’t allow yourself to. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the time you had with him, no matter how brief it would have to be. Pulling him down for a soft kiss, you murmured against his lips.

“Do anything you want with me,” you whispered, eagerly giving your body to your favorite trucker, even as you held back from giving him your heart. “Wanna feel your cock inside me so bad, please, Jake,” you begged, muffling a whimper as you kissed his jaw.  

If Jake knew you were holding part of yourself back, he didn’t show it. Instead, he captured your lips in a fierce kiss, his hands roaming all over your body, ripping off your jacket and tossing it into the front seat. As his tongue plunged into your mouth, he tugged off the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare beneath him before he pulled away to yank his shirt off over his head.

The movement knocked Jake’s glasses askew and you giggled at the sight of him, leaning up to nip at his jaw to stop yourself from calling him cute again. He huffed an impatient laugh and took his glasses off, tucking them into a compartment above your head. 

Even in the dim light of the backseat, Jake was still so attractive it took your breath away just looking at him. You couldn’t help yourself from pulling his face close to yours so you could kiss him sweetly. 

“So handsome, Jakey,” you murmured against his mouth, wanting so badly to tell him how much you liked him. You settled for wrapping your legs around his hips and grinding your bare core against the bulge in his jeans. “Look so fucking hot with glasses,” you said, pausing only to kiss him again before continuing, “and just as hot without them.”

Jake chuckled huskily, his hips pressing into yours to grind his bulge against your cunt, making you gasp while he kissed along your jaw. “What happened to calling me cute?” he murmured teasingly, nipping at the lobe of your ear and laughing again when you squirmed beneath him.

“You’re still cute,” you admitted on a gasp, humping against Jake from under his large body, trying desperately to get the friction you needed against your sopping wet pussy. “And handsome and hot and—god you’re everything, Jakey,” you cried, your desire driving you to grind harder against him, your body writhing like a cat in heat. “I need you, please!”

“Alright, alright,” Jake rumbled placatingly, easing your hips back down against the bed and untangling your legs from around his hips so he could undo his jeans. 

The loss of contact made you whine impatiently, and if need wasn’t blazing through you so hotly you would’ve wondered about what Jake had reduced you to—a needy creature so desperate for him that you were whining—but you didn’t care, you just wanted him. Jake kissed your cheek to mollify you while he fumbled with his jeans.

“Fuck, kitten,” he rasped, pressing his forehead to yours and taking a deep breath to settle his shaking hands. “I’ve never met a woman who wanted me so bad.”

An anger you didn’t want to analyze too closely surged through your body at Jake’s statement. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you buried your hands in his hair and pressed hot kisses to his cheeks, his temple, his forehead, anywhere you could reach.

“All the women you’ve met are fucking idiots then,” you snarled, tugging Jake’s head to the side so you could kiss down the strong column of his neck. It wasn’t like you to say such things about other women, but you couldn’t even fathom not wanting Jake with a desperation that clawed through your body. Before you could stop yourself, your lips latched onto Jake’s neck and you began sucking on his skin, intent on leaving your mark on your favorite trucker.

“Fuck, jesus fuck,” Jake groaned, shuddering at the feeling of you sucking on his neck. His hands were shaking again, but he managed to push his jeans and boxers down, kicking them off as fast as he could manage in the tight confines of the backseat. 

Then, finally, his cock was free, and you reached for it eagerly with a familiarity that came from sucking him off so many times in the glory holes at Diesel Dolls. You stroked him with an eagerness like greeting an old friend, reacquainting yourself with the part of Jake’s body you knew best. His cock was just as perfect as always and all the desires you’d felt earlier that night came rushing back.

“Wanna worship your cock with my mouth, Jakey,” you murmured in his ear, your fingers stroking his stiff length slowly, teasingly, pausing briefly to smack your pussy with the tip and making both of your groan in pleasure. “You have the most perfect cock I’ve ever seen,” you confessed in a breathy whisper, your lips pressing kisses to Jake’s neck just beneath his ear. “I wanna kiss you and lick you and suck you and make out with your balls, Jakey, god, I could spend hours just playing with your cock.”

Jake’s full body shuddered again, and you smirked against his neck, breathing in the fresh, clean scent of your favorite trucker and feeling yourself get wetter for him. But then Jake was pushing up and tilting his face to yours, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that stole your breath and stilled your hand.

“You have the hottest mouth, kitten,” Jake murmured when he pulled away, his hand cupping your cheek and dragging his thumb over your lower lip. 

You sucked his finger into your mouth and bobbed your head a little while staring up at him, hoping he’d see how eager you were and let you move down his body and worship him the way he deserved.

Instead, Jake’s other hand knocked yours away from his cock, fisting himself while you whined and pouted around his thumb. He chuckled, removing his thumb from your mouth so he could kiss you again.

“You can suck me off another time,” he promised, rubbing the tip of his dick between your soaked folds and making you shiver beneath him. “I gotta feel your cunt or I’m gonna go fucking crazy.” His voice lowered to a deep rumble, his words only turning you on more, as impossible as that seemed. “Gotta know if your pussy feels as good as I’ve always imagined.”

“Jakey, please,” you cried breathlessly, digging your knees into his sides and tilting your hips up to try to take his cock into your weeping hole. “Need you, need you,” you mumbled, humping against the tip of Jake’s dick, until a thought crashed into your mind. 

You’d never fucked anyone—at Diesel Dolls or in your personal life—without a condom. And you’d never forgotten to ask your partner to put one on. But you’d been about to take Jake’s bare cock into your unprotected cunt without even a second thought. 

It was chilling to realize just how much Jake affected you. You froze, your body tensing and pulling away as much as you could when you were laying beneath Jake in the small cot in the backseat of his truck.

Immediately, Jake took notice of your retreat, and he paused above you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked worriedly, pushing up on his arms so he could see your face fully. There was so much concern in his expression that you had to look away, reflexively shying away from the emotion in his gaze. You stared at his shoulder as you asked a question of your own.

“Do you want to use a condom?” you asked, forcing out the words in a rush, hoping Jake didn’t hear the insecurity in your voice. You knew some men thought you were ‘dirty’ because of your profession—you’d had more than enough of them say as much to your face—so you wanted to give Jake the option in case he later regretted not using protection with you. 

The part of you that liked Jake (which was growing by the minute), wanted to believe he didn’t think that way about you. After all, he’d met you in the glory holes at the back of Diesel Dolls, and had made you feel safe and respected even when there was a plywood wall between you. But you knew too well from experience that even if a man knew what you did for work, even if he’d visited you at Diesel Dolls, he might still secretly think of you in a certain way.

So you held your breath, cautious hope in your heart as you waited for Jake’s response to your question. 

He blinked once, then twice, his lips parted and his expression adorably confused while he processed your words. He even glanced down your bodies to see his bare cock resting against your pussy, and you weren’t certain what was going through his head, but you desperately wanted to know. When his gaze met yours again, he still looked concerned.

“Do you want to use a condom, kitten?” Jake asked, an anxious note in his tone. “Because I’ll find one if you do.” His eyes searched yours, but you were too stunned to respond because you’d realized something. Something life-altering.

Jake was the only man who ever asked you what you wanted. 

Maybe there had been others, long ago, before Diesel Dolls, but if there were, you couldn’t remember them. Jake was the first man in a long time to ask you what you wanted to do, if you wanted to use a condom. An overwhelming and terrifying emotion surged through your body, tying your tongue and rendering you speechless. 

Thankfully, Jake’s anxiousness at your silence prompted him to keep talking. He dropped his voice low, his expression going serious as he stared into your eyes. 

“If you want to know what I want, I thought I made myself clear earlier,” he rumbled, working his hips in tiny little circles that had his hard length slipping between your drenched folds and grinding lightly against your clit. “I don’t want anything between us—I want all of you, including your hot cunt wrapped around my bare cock.” 

A gasp fell from your lips as you tossed your head back, your eyes squeezing shut to quell the tears that were threatening to spill down your cheeks. “Jakey, yes, I want it—please,” you moaned in a broken, hoarse voice. Heat rose to your cheeks and, despite how turned on you were, you managed to feel a little embarrassed by how much emotion was in your voice when you said his name. Still, you couldn’t help the need you felt, and you pulled him close, feeling like nothing would be close enough. 

Jake dug his arms into the bed beneath your back, crushing you to his chest as he shifted his hips, lining up his cock with your hole and beginning to sink in while he shushed you. “I’m right here, kitten, ‘m not going anywhere,” he murmured soothingly in your ear. 

Your heart thudded in your chest and you were filled with an uneasy trepidation even as your legs spread wider around Jake’s broad body to take his cock deep into your cunt. You believed Jake. You believed he wasn’t going anywhere, and that scared you. But you didn’t have room in your mind to deal with that fear, not when he was sliding inside you, stretching your pussy to accomodate his thick length and pushing all your worries to the wayside. 

“Feel so good, kitten,” Jake rumbled in your ear when he bottomed out inside you. His lips found your neck and kissed your delicate skin, making you whimper for him. “Feels like you were made for me, like you were made to be mine, all mine.” He rocked his hips gently, fucking you in firm, short thrusts that you felt in the depths of your soul.

Jake’s words and the way he was fucking you—like he was making love to you—was too much. You wanted so badly to be his, to let yourself fall in love with him, but you knew it couldn’t be and that knowledge made you so despondent, you felt like you could cry. But you didn’t want to ruin the moment, so instead you pushed on Jake’s shoulder, urging him to roll onto his back. 

He did as you asked, rolling your bodies until he was laying flat on his back and you were straddling his hips, his cock still lodged deep inside you. The ceiling of the truck was high enough that you could sit up, so you did, pushing on Jake’s pecs to put some distance between you and your favorite trucker. You began to ride him with practiced movements, taking the opportunity to watch Jake. 

Your favorite trucker looked deliciously devastated beneath you, his blue eyes glazing over as you rose up and sank down on his fat dick. His soft lips were parted, his chest heaving with heavy breaths as you worked your hips in tiny circles, clenching down on his length and fucking him like the pro that you were. 

Jake stared at you like you were a goddess come to life and he’d be more than happy to bow at your feet, a dazed look of pleasure in his eyes as they roamed over your body. His gaze drifted down from your face, watching your tits bounce for him, then fixating on where your bodies joined. You could feel his gaze everywhere he looked, your body lighting up at his attention, which only made you ride him harder.

“Look so beautiful riding my cock, kitten,” Jake rumbled, seemingly having found his tongue. His hands fumbled over your body, gripping your hips and then your ass like he couldn’t decide which he wanted to touch more, squeezing you anywhere he could. “And you feel so fucking good—fuck, kitten, I want to keep you on my cock forever, just sitting pretty and keeping my cock warm while I’m driving, fuck, even when I’m sleeping.”

“Mm, Jake, don’t threaten me with a good time,” you murmured huskily, planting your hands on his chest and using the leverage to bounce your ass on his cock. You knew from past experience it made men lose their minds, and Jake was no different. 

His jaw clenched and his hands pawed at your plush curves, his eyes rolling back in his head as he let out a groan that sounded like he was being tortured. “Fuck, fuck, kitten, you feel so fucking good,” Jake rambled, his tongue loosening the closer he got to coming. “Your cunt feels better than I ever could’ve imagined, ‘m gonna come so hard in your pretty little kitty.”

“Do it, Jake,” you urged, even though a part of you didn’t want your first time with Jake to be over so soon. But you knew it was better this way. You’d get him off and make some excuse to leave and you could go home and get yourself off while Jake’s come was still leaking from your pussy. “Fill me up, wanna feel you flood my little hole with your come.”

“Oh fuck,” Jake groaned, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he held you and fucked up into you so furiously, you would’ve lost your balance if he hadn’t been holding on to you. “You’re perfect, you’re perfect, I—god, I love you, kitten.”

Every muscle in your body froze and you sucked in a sharp gasp at Jake’s confession, your mouth falling open in shock as you stared down at your favorite trucker. 

Men had said those words to you before. They’d whispered them into plywood walls while you sucked their cocks and moaned other girls’ names. They’d murmured them into your ear while you gave them a lap dance, promising you jewelry and bigger tips if you broke the rules and let them fuck you. They’d confessed them to you in a bid to keep you in relationships that were toxic. 

But you’d never heard them from a man who treated you with as much respect as Jake did. You’d never heard them from a man you wanted to hear them from. And god, you’d wanted Jake to say those words—maybe not so soon, but eventually—because you knew you were falling in love with him. And the fact that he’d said it meant he’d made it real.

And you were fucking terrified. 

Even with how close Jake was to coming, he felt the change in you immediately. For a moment, he just looked at you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his cock still hard inside you. As he watched you, you got the distinct impression he could see how scared you were of those three little words he’d said. 

Trying to conceal your fear with anger, you contorted your face into a scowl and hissed, “Don’t say that to me.” 

Jake sat up at once, one of his arms banding around your back to hold you in place while the other cupped your face, his thumb tilting your chin up so he could pin you in place with the intensity of his gaze. 

“Do you think I didn’t mean it?” he asked, his voice gentle and gruff.

With his blue eyes piercing yours, it was difficult to lie, but you managed. “I’m sure you only meant it because I was riding your dick better than any other woman you’ve ever been with,” you spit out with far more bravado than you felt. 

Jake’s expression shifted and he almost—almost—looked angry. His grip on your chin tightened, though not anywhere near enough to hurt. His hand was firm, unyielding in a way you’d never seen from Jake before. 

“I’ve been in love with you since the first time you called me Jakey and told me I have a perfect dick,” he said, his tone daring you to challenge him. “I’ve loved you since before I saw this pretty face for the first time, kitten, and I know you feel something for me, too.”

Your heart was pounding in your chest, everything in your body telling you to flee, but Jake was holding you too tight so you huffed an exasperated sigh and rolled your eyes at your favorite trucker, pretending to be annoyed with him. 

“How d’you know I don’t tell everyone they have a perfect cock?” you asked in a nonchalant tone, your eyes cutting away from Jake’s as you shrugged. “Maybe I tell all my johns that so they’ll tip me better.

Jake’s expression softened, a grin spreading across his face, like he was amused by your antics. “And do you tell all your johns that you fantasize about their cocks while you touch yourself?” Jake asked, his tone almost teasing. “Do you finger yourself while you think about your other johns—or is it just me, kitten?”

Your mind flashed back to earlier that evening when Jake had visited you at the glory holes in Diesel Dolls and you’d been so turned on by him, you’d gotten yourself off while you sucked his cock. You’d never done that before, and you knew it was entirely because you were so attracted to Jake, even when you’d only known his cock. The fact that he was real and handsome and inside you made it impossible to ignore how much you desired him, your body squirming as need crashed through you.

Though you’d barely moved, Jake could feel the way you squirmed in his arms and he chuckled. “Mm, I thought so,” he rumbled, responding like you’d answered his question, which you supposed you had, in a way. He pressed his face close to yours and held you so you were forced to look at him, because he was all you could see. “You don’t need to say the words back to me, kitten,” he murmured, his tone so sweet and gentle, it inexplicably made you want to cry. “But I know you feel it.”

God help you, but Jake was right. You were falling in love with the ridiculous trucker, and it seemed there was nothing you could do about it. Tears filled your eyes and threatened to spill down your cheeks. It was so tremendously frightening to open your heart to Jake, even when you weren’t thinking about everything in your life that would endeavor to keep you apart. Your throat felt tight with emotion, like you were choking on all the feelings you didn’t want to feel. 

“Jakey,” was all you could manage to get past your lips. Thankfully, you didn’t need to say more because Jake covered your mouth with his own, kissing you so hard it stole the breath from your lungs. Your hips squirmed as heat flooded through you, the aching need of having Jake’s cock buried inside you becoming too difficult to ignore. 

Instead of letting you ride him more, Jake flipped your bodies until you were pinned beneath his larger one, swallowing your gasp as he began fucking you like he had when you’d first begun, in slow, firm thrusts. When you wrenched your lips from his, gulping down much-needed air, he didn’t let you pull too far away.

“Love it when you call me Jakey, kitten,” he rumbled, in between peppering your face with kisses, his goatee tickling your skin, “’cause I know it means you love me.” 

It felt like he was everywhere—his arms holding you tight to his chest, his lips pressing against every inch of your skin he could reach, his thick cock stretching your tight little cunt. He was overwhelming in the best way possible, and you let yourself give in to the moment, crying out, “Jakey, Jakey,” as he fucked you even after what he’d said about it meaning you loved him. 

The tip of Jake’s cock hit a spot deep inside you that had you moaning and clenching around him, and he groaned at the feel of your body squeezing his dick. He shifted his position slightly and made sure he hit that spot over and over again, until you felt like you were the one unraveling beneath your favorite trucker. 

“That’s it, good girl, take your Jakey’s cock,” he growled, his teeth nipping at your ear and your neck as he fucked you harder, feeling the way you twitched with pleasure in his arms. “Look so fucking gorgeous creaming on my cock—the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and you’re all fucking mine, isn’t that right, kitten?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, willing your lips to say yes, but all you could manage was a litany of your favorite trucker’s name, crying “Jakey, Jakey, Jakey.” You could feel the pleasure in your body coiling tight, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before Jake made you come. It felt better than you ever imagined, being with him, and you wanted it to last forever.

You could feel Jake’s smirk against your cheek and then his face was hovering above yours, his blue eyes nearly black with how wide his pupils had blown with arousal. It made him look nothing like the friendly trucker you’d met in the parking lot, but you wouldn’t trade in this unleashed side of Jake for anything. He wasn’t cute anymore, but he was so scorching hot, you thought you might come just from the way he was looking at you like you were his whole world.

“You gonna come, kitten?” he asked, his lightly teasing words at odds with the brutal way he was fucking you, his cock pounding into that delicious spot deep inside your cunt, his pelvic bone grinding against your clit every time he bottomed out inside you. “Gonna come all over the cock of the man who loves you? Gonna let the man who loves you come deep in your perfect cunt?” 

Jake’s words were your undoing. The tension in your body snapped as your release crashed over you, pleasure consuming every part of your being as you screamed your trucker’s name, “Jakey!” Your body trembled, your hands fumbling against Jake’s shoulders as you tried to cling to him, but he wasn’t done with you yet.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl,” Jake muttered, his hips rutting into you as he chased his own release while drawing yours out. “Ya look so fucking pretty coming on my cock, kitten—the prettiest girl in the world, gonna make me come, gonna make me come so hard your tight, perfect pussy.” He captured your lips in a kiss, breaking away a moment later to grunt, “Fuck, fuck, you’re mine, kitten, all fucking mine.” 

You felt Jake’s hips stutter against yours and then he pressed deep. His cock twitched inside you, and you knew he was flooding your pussy with his come, that thought making you moan deliriously. You pulled Jake down for a messy, sloppy kiss as you rode out your releases together, your cunt clenching around his cock to milk every drop of his seed into your pussy. 

You writhed together for so long that Jake began to shudder from the overstimulation, and he collapsed on top of you, forcing you to stop while he moaned in your ear. Even still, you kept your legs hooked around his waist, refusing to let him go. His heavy weight was crushing you a little, but you didn’t mind as you stroked your fingertips up and down hi spine.

Eventually, both of you settled, and Jake rolled onto his side, dragging you with him. He hitched your leg over his hip to keep your bodies connected, seemingly just as reluctant as you were to pull away from where you were joined together. 

But the realities of the world burrowed back into your mind, reminding you that no matter how much Jake loved you—and no matter how much you were falling in love with him—any relationship between the two of you was an impossibility. 

If Mr. Drysdale found out you’d fucked one of the truckers that comprised Diesel Dolls’ clientele, there would be consequences. Even if you weren’t fired, you didn’t want to learn what punishment Mr. Drysdale would come up with to make sure you never saw Jake again. There’d be no way for you to have a relationship with your favorite trucker, even a secret one, since secrets had a way of coming out at Diesel Dolls.

Once you’d caught your breath and thoroughly freaked yourself out with your thoughts about the consequences of your actions, you sighed softly and began to extricate yourself from Jake. “I should go,” you murmured, but the moment you tried to pull away, Jake pulled you in tighter against his chest. There was a light dusting of hair coving his pecs and you couldn’t help but nuzzle deeper into the warmth and fuzziness of him.

Jake chuckled. “Do you really think I’m done with you already, kitten?” he asked teasingly, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ve wanted to get you in my arms and on my cock for months,” he said, his dick twitching inside you as he began to harden again. “I’m not letting you go just yet.” He nudged your face up to look at him, a little bit of vulnerability swirling in his blue eyes as he whispered, “Stay the night. Please.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the way Jake said ‘please’, like he would be heartbroken if you didn’t stay. At that moment, you realized just how much trouble you were in. It would break your heart to hurt Jake, but there was no way things didn’t end with one of you hurting the other. Either you’d hurt Jake by choosing your job over him or he’d hurt you by leaving. It was an impossible situation.

Jake seemed to sense your reluctance, and he kissed you softly, putting his heart into the slide of his lips against yours. “Let me take care of you, kitten,” he murmured. 

You knew he was referring to sex, but a part of you suspected he meant more than that, too. You sucked in a soft gasp, wanting to believe he really wanted to take care of you, all of you, all of the time. But it was so difficult to believe. If you gave yourself to Jake fully, he’d have to really take care of you, forever. And you didn’t know if he was willing or capable of that. 

It wasn’t like Jake was some sort of prince charming who’d whisk you off your feet and carry you off into the sunset. This was real life, and he was a trucker. One day he’d leave, and, odds were, he wouldn’t be taking you with him. It wasn’t like he was asking you to let him take care of you for the rest of your life.

But if all he was asking for was one night, you could give him that. It was only one night, after all.

“Ok,” you murmured, kissing Jake sweetly, twining your fingers in his blond hair and rocking your body against his, fucking yourself on his cock. “I’m yours for tonight, Jakey.” 

You could feel Jake’s grin against your lips, and feel his happiness in the way he squeezed you tight. His elation was heady and you almost got lost in it, imagining yourself leaving with Jake when he went back out on the road. 

You pictured Jake rescuing you from Mr. Drysdale, fighting for you when your boss from Diesel Dolls inevitably protested you leaving. You imagined fitting perfectly into Jake’s life as a trucker, and eventually becoming his sweet little wife. You imagined being his princess while he was your prince charming.

But it was all a fantasy, and you knew that. You weren’t some princess locked in a tower by a wicked witch, and Jake wasn’t your prince charming. But for one night, you could pretend. What harm could it do.

trucker king masterlist

[sarcasticbeanie]

it’s time for a life-changing roadtrip i guess

[ID: A full body drawing of Jason Todd and Roy Harper from DC Comics. They are sitting on the top of a red van, talking to each other. Jason has dark hair with white stripes at the front, and is wearing a grey T-shirt saying “I’m a Jersey Girl. 1. Dirty mind, 2. Caring friend, 3. Potty mouth, 4. Good heart, 5. Smart ass, 6. Kind soul, 7. Sinner, 8. Thick thighs. I never said I was perfect”. He’s also wearing black pants, and brown combat boots. He has scars on his face, neck and arms. He’s wearing black nail polish and simple black bracelets. He has a hearing aid in his right ear. He is gesturing at Roy with one hand, and holding a Sprite can in the other. There’s an open book on his lap. He looks like he’s complaining. Roy has ginger hair, and is wearing a green trucker hat backwards on his head. He’s wearing a white tank top with a yellow arrow pointing up on it, blue jeans, and black and white sneakers. He has brown archer gloves on both hands, and has a grey prosthetic right arm. He's holding a coke can in one hand, and pointing a finger gun at Jason with his left. He's sitting on a green pillow. He’s smiling. The van they’re on has blue curtains at it’s windows, and has its door open. In the van there’s a table with a map, an arrow, some tools and a few screws on it. Under the table, there’s a box with soft drinks and snacks. There’s a sofa on each side of the table. The red hood helmet is on the left sofa, and there’s a purple blanket with the spoiler symbol and a yellow pillow with the signal symbol on the right sofa. On the wall of the van, a brown jacket and a black trucker hat is hanging on the left side. There are pictures hanging on the right side, depicting Roy’s daughter Lian, and members of the batfamily in a simplistic style. A sunset over the sea can be seen through the side window of the van. End ID.]

[bigification]

Just one of the Boys

I feel so free now. Being able to go hitch hiking across the country after university is such an amazing opportunity. Some of the conversation is really weird, some of it is just plain boring, but I shouldn't be complaining though considering these people are driving me around for free. I mainly just get truckers who have been driving with nothing but the radio all day. This time was weird though. A truck full of older men picked me up while I was walking on the side of the road.

"Hop in buddy!" The man in shotgun shouts at me as they pull over.

It seems odd, but it beats walking and it might lead to some interesting conversation. As interesting as middle aged men in Texas have to say at least. I hop in the back of the truck and I'm immediately squished from the man sitting next to me and the seat in front of me. All three of the men in this truck must have been around 300 pounds each, I have no idea why they thought there would be room for another person. I can manage because I'm a relatively small person, but fuck is it not comfortable.

"Name's Tom." The man driving says in a deep southern accent. "This here is Kent." He taps the man riding shotgun. "And the fellow right next to ya is Luke."

"Denis, nice to meet you guys." I say awkwardly as they all stare at me.

"So what is a boy like you doin' in the middle of nowhere." Tom asks.

"Well I just graduated, so I figured I would travel the world before I settle down."

"Once you get a wife, they'll tie ya down like a ton a bricks. Better have your fun while ya can." Luke says and punches my shoulder as the three men erupt into laughter. I just chuckle and smile along, I have the feeling this is gonna be a long trip.

"We come out here every chance we get to fish, and it gives us a break from the family. Just a weekend fishin trip with the boys." Kent says.

"Why don't you grab a beer boy, we got plenty."

"Oh I don't really drink beer, but thanks anyway."

"Why, is it cuz your scared it'll make ya look like us." Luke says as he pats his gut.

"Grab one would ya, what's the harm." Tom insists.

I give in, I don't particularly like beer but I'll drink it if they want me to that bad. I open the cooler behind my seat and see dozens of full beer cans. It kinda shocks me given how many empty can are in the truck, they must have already drank nearly a dozen in the car ride and they have that many more. No wonder they're 300 pounds.

"You gotta girlfriend, boy?" Tom asks as I crack open my beer. The question makes me pause for a moment. I'm hesitant to tell them I have a boyfriend back home, but telling them I don't have a girlfriend technically wouldn't be a lie.

"No" I nervously respond.

"Well the girls are dumb to not want ya."

I wasn't expecting such a sweet response, but that was nice.

"Ya plenty of girls are into chubby guys like you, in sure you won't have no problem getting yourself a wife."

The comment kind of surprised me considering I'm a pretty skinny guy.

"Luke! The hell's wrong with you, that's no way to speak to a guest."

I look down and I'm shocked to see a small belly poking through my shirt. What the hell!? I had basically no fat on my body like 10 minutes ago, what happened.

"Don't listen to Luke, he's just being a dick."

Their words surprisingly comforted me. I started to remember all the partying I did in university, and all the beer I drank, it's no wonder I have a little bit of a beer belly.

"Well what have you done since university?"

The question confused me a bit considering I said I had just graduated before leaving for this trip.

"I just graduated."

"Oh, I just assumed it's been a while since you look a bit too old to be just graduatin school."

The comment confused me even more, I don't look a day older than 22. I glance at the rearview mirror and see my face in the reflection. I look.. at least 30. The more I think about it the more it makes sense though, I've been a software engineer since graduating.

"Oh ya, you had me all confused, I'm a software engineer."

"Rich guy over here, that must make you a lot of money."

"It makes enough." I try not to elaborate.

Tom cuts into the conversation. "Why don't you have another beer boy, we got plenty of time."

I might as well, I guess I can stay with them as long as they let me. I grab another beer and crack it open.

"With a pretty face like yours and a job like that, you must have a beautiful wife don't ya."

I just told them I don't have a girlfriend, but I don't know why I lied about that. Now that I think about it, I have a wife and daughter.

"And a beautiful baby back home." I say proudly.

"Well that explains the belly growin on ya. A man your age doesn't get a tank like that unless he's got a kid."

"Luke, would ya stop it with the comments about his belly, your makin him uncomfortable."

I look down at my gut again and see that it's doubled in size since I last looked at it. But then again, I have been gaining a lot of weight since the baby was born, so it makes sense. I might be needing some new clothes now that I look at it, my shirt is riding up my belly.

"It's alright." I respond. "Ever since the baby, I haven't been able to control this belly."

"We know the feelin. We all met before we got married and we were all 150. I still remember Tom hit 300 by the time his first turned 1 and we never let him hear the end of it."

"Don't listen to them Denis. Kent hit 300 before his first kid was even born, those beers really took a toll."

As they're talking, I grab another beer. I feel like I'm going through these beers like they're nothing, they taste amazing.

"Just considering yourself lucky that you didn't hit 300 pounds by the time you turned 40."

"Well I certainly am gettin there." I'm shocked as I hear a southern twang in my voice when I say that.

"Ya sure are, that shirt don't fit ya like it used to."

I look down and see that my gut is spilling out onto my lap, my shirt has ridden up nearly to my chest. It looks more like a bra at this point.

"Why don't you grab one of my fishin shirts back there, it might fit ya better."

It's slightly embarrassing, but I appreciate the offer. I grab a white shirt from behind my seat and put it on. It's surprisingly tight on me considering these guys are so much bigger than me. Honestly now that I look at them, they're not even that big, at least not that much bigger than me. Id say it's about average for a man our age to be this big. Only those millennials with their damn diets stay skinny, it's not our fault real men like their beer and steak. I kinda pause in shock that the thought ran through my mind, but I slowly felt more confident in that opinion.

"So I'm sure you've got teenagers by this age, they must be a handful."

"Oh I've got two, they really push my buttons sometimes. They're why Ive got so many grey hairs already."

"Well you must be pushing 50, just be glad you ain't got more. Luke went full grey by 40."

"With the way his wife treats him, I'm surprised he even has any hair left."

I joke, making the boys erupt into laughter. It kinda felt weird makin a joke about Luke's wife when I've never met the woman, but I met her just last week at the barbeque. She really is a handful. It felt good makin the boys laugh, I really feel like I'm fittin in good with them.

"I wouldn't talk if I were you Denis, ever since you met that wife a yours, that waistline has never been the same."

"That's right, I still remember when we met you way back, you were just a skinny young man. You must have been 140 pounds soakin wet, and now look at ya, you can't even fit into your own damn clothes."

I blush with embarrassment as I look down and see that my fly is wide open. My button must've flown right off without me noticing.

"It's all those damn beers he's been drinkin"

Luke punches my shoulder and points at the pile of empty beer cans at my feet. I didn't even realize how many I went through, and I barely feel drunk. Though it is pretty normal for big guys like me to have to drink more to get drunk, I sure as hell don't mind drinking more.

"Oh get off his ass Luke, you know damn well you drink just as much as him. And by the way Denis, we don't mind if you need to take your pants off if they get too small."

It seems strange that Tom would say that, but we've known each other for so long now so who cares. It's not gay if I still have my underwear on. I struggle to pull the skin tight jeans to my ankles and relax as my legs spread.

"Alright boys, we made it."

We pull into a long driveway with a small cabin by the water. Everyone hops out and grabs their stuff before walkin to the cabin. I sheepishly get out of the truck with my pants at my knees.

"Damn, you've really packed it on since our last fishin trip." Tom says as he slaps my gut, it looks almost like he's salivating lookin at me. "You must be the biggest in the group now."

I blush at the compliment. I fully take off my jeans and walk to the cabin. I'm shocked to see how small the cabin is. It has one room with a kitchen and living room on one side and two small beds on the other.

"Where's everyone gon' sleep?"

"Those two beds right there. Luke and Kent can share that bed, you'll be with me boy."

He pushes me into the bed.

"I'm gonna have fun fattening you up like the pig you are."

I look over to the other bed and see that Luke and Kent are already makin out.

"Hey, eyes on me fat boy. Consider this your initiation as one of the boys."

Tom pins me under his weight and starts kissin me. I'm certainly not gay, but Tom is a handsome fella so I certainly won't mind. Oh and the ways he touches me, my wife could never. It's like the devil is tempting me, I'll just have to confess when I go to church next sunday. But then I'll do it all again next fishin trip with the boys.

[iirulancorrino]

One of the inventors of the sewing machine didn’t patent it because of the way it would restructure labor. Another was almost killed by a mob.

Always when I sew I think of Emma Goldman with her sewing machine, or Emma Goldman during her first night in jail “at least bring me some sewing.” Wikipedia says the sewing machine reduced average garment construction time from 14 hours to 2 hours. Somewhere on a sewing blog someone wrote of making new garments from existing ones: “use every part of the garment” and “each garment holds in it hours of a garment worker’s life.” I sew and the historical of sewing becomes a feeling just as when I used to be a poet, when I used to write poetry, used to write poetry and that thing culture began tendriling out in me, but it is probably more meaningful to sew a dress than to write a poem. I make anywhere from 10 to 15 dollars an hour at any of my three jobs. A garment from Target or Forever 21 costs 10 to 30 dollars. A garment from a thrift store costs somewhere between 4 and 10 dollars. A garment from a garage sale costs 1 to 5 dollars. A garment from a department store costs 30 to 500 dollars. All of these have been made, for the most part, from hours of women and children’s lives. Now I give the hours of my life I don’t sell to my employers to the garments. My costs are low: 2-dollar fabric from Goodwill, patterns bought for 99 cents or less, notions found at estate sales for 1 or 3 dollars. I almost save money like this. The fabric still contains the hours of the lives, those of the farmers and shepherds and chemists and factory workers and truckers and salespeople and the first purchasers, the givers-away, who were probably women who sewed. Sewing is difficult. There is a reason girls were trained in it before they were trained in anything else, years and years spent at practice, and even then they might not have been any good.

Anne Boyer, Garments Against Women

[swiss-mrs]

Black Velvet

Captain Syverson x Country Singer!Reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Unhinged delulus as usual, Fluff AF

Warnings: Brief Song Lyrics (?), Songs Linked in Fic, Sy is in his mid-thirties.

Reader/Unnamed Character Description: No Descriptions Beyond Clothing (Modern Western/Ranchera Wear), No Mentions of Age, Race, Ethnicity, Etc., No Use of Y/N, She/Her Pronouns, Mentioned as "woman" and "lady"

Synopsis: Sy and his hometown friends go out to a bar, and surprise surprise it's karaoke night. This beautiful cowgirl stands out from the rest when she goes up to absolutely nail one of Sy's Greatest Hits.

Pt. 2, as highly requested

“Good to have you back, bud!” a hand claps down on Sy's muscle hardened shoulder with a squeeze as the small group of men walk into a bar.

“Next up, we have,” an announcer says into the mic, “Tanner George singin’ 'That's My Kind Of Night'.'' The boys stop short as soon as they walk through the door, it swinging closed behind them.

“Aye! You ain't say nothin’ about no karaoke.”

“Come on, man. Does it look like I knew?” Sy's friends bicker back and forth.

“Yo, let's just make this stop number one. Make fun of the hogs on stage over a few beers then move on to the next.” a third and final voice rings out. The blonde cowboy pushes through the crew and heads straight to a booth near the bar, farthest away from the stage. The other two friends continue bickering under their breaths as they follow. Sy chuckles and shakes his head, rolling his eyes at the boys.

The plaid shirt man on stage wasn't terrible, but it was obvious he was no singer. Must've been the beer that got him up there.

As Sy walked back to the now occupied booth, he noticed a group of girls whooping and hollering at the man on stage, one of the girls wearing a tiara and “Birthday Girl” sash. He raises a brow at them before averting his gaze.

The boys get their first round of pints just as the man making an ass of himself stumbles off stage. A couple of minutes go by of them shooting the shit, catching up, long enough for three girls from that birthday party to go up and absolutely bucher Shania twice in a row. The boys needed another round alone just to get through it.

Just as they were about to reach the bottom of their 3rd round, the announcer came back up. “Alriigghht, thank you ladies. Next up,” He announces the next act, a soloist, before disappearing stage right. A beautiful woman with a pristine cowboy hat, ironed bootcut jeans, and long sleeve button down shirt tied off in the front. You were breathtaking to say the least.

As soon as Sy catches sight of you, the laughs and voices of his buddies fall on deaf ears. He is utterly focused on you, suddenly and anxiously awaiting your performance.

As you close in on the mic, two girls at the bar start cheering you on. He lets his eyes wander from you to glance at the bar. “You go, girl!” That must be who you came here with, Sy figures.

As the first guitar riff plays through the speakers, Sy's eyes are immediately back on you, catching the tail end of your bashful smile and shake of your head. Good choice, he thought, nodding with an impressed frown.

It doesn't take long for you to start moving to the heavy beat with a scrunched nose. Your friends start going off like crazed fangirls, spurring you on.

“Mississippi in the middle of a dry spell,

Jimmy Rogers on the Victrola up high.” Sy's brows shoot up underneath the bill of his trucker cap. He didn't have many expectations, but that was not what he was expecting. You could sing, like actually sing. You weren't even looking at the screen for lyrics. Your eyes were up, staring at the wall across the bar. It was like you were singing out into an invisible arena, confident and gone to the music.

He was so entranced by your performance that he didn't catch when a question was thrown to him by his friends, trying to include him in their conversation. As soon as they turned to him and realized he paid them no mind, their eyes followed his gaze to you. To say they were impressed was an understatement. They murmured amongst themselves, devising an untold plan.

“Ow!” one of your friends whoop during the instrumental break between the chorus and second verse, the other letting out a whistle.

“Up in Memphis, the music's like a heatwave.” You look out at the crowd of the bar.

“White lightning, bound to drive you wild.” Everyone's returning your gaze.

“Mama's baby's in the heart of every schoolgirl

‘Love Me Tender’ leaves 'em cryin' in the aisle.” Multiple patrons now join in the cheering, bopping their heads and taping silver rings on their pint glasses.

“The way he moved, it was a sin, so sweet and true

Always wanting more,” Your eyes make their way to Sy's direction, stopping his heart for a moment.

“He'd leave you longing for

Black velvet and that little boy's smile

Black velvet with that slow southern style

A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees

Black velvet if you please.” Sy couldn't be sure if you were actually looking at him from this distance, but, Lord almighty, whether you could see him or not did not change the effect you had on him. Unbeknownst to him, his blond buddy made his way out the booth and towards the bar to the girls cheering you on.

“Evenin’, ladies.” The two girls take their attention off your singing and to the man who now stood beside them.

“Hi.” “Heyyy.” They reply at the same time, one a bit more flirty than the other. He puts on his charm, leading against the bar with a heart stopping grin, showing off his perfect teeth.

“I'm assumin’ y'all are together?” he motions to the girls and to you on stage. They both nod.

“And what's it to ya?” Your friend asks with a raised brow, dropping her flirtatious ways and going straight into suspicion. Her change doesn't falter the cowboy'. He had an objective.

“Well, ya see, my friend over there in the trucker hat,” He points behind him, the girls’ eyes following his finger. “seems to be a bit smitten by your girl up there.” He nods in your direction. “He may not look it, but he's a bit, uh… reserved.” He pauses, “He just got back from a tour in Iraq, and I just know he won't have the balls to go up to her himself.” The girls glance at each other, having a silent conversation. Physically, he was totally your type, hell he was everyone's type. “Figured you girls would know best. You think Ms. American Idol would be interested?” he asks. The girls nod to each other.

“She's interested.” They say in sync. 

“He's totally her type.” The cowboy's grin widens at the girl's confirmation. He nods.

“Alright, that's what I like to hear.” He smirks. “I'll send him over.” He winks and tips his hat as a farewell gesture before heading back to his booth. The other two boys watched him. He gives them a nod and two thumbs up as he walks towards them.

You finish the last few add libs to your set as the music fades out. As soon as the track stops, the entire bar erupts with cheers and applause. Though everyone was loud, you could still hear your two friends over the rest. It brings a big smile to your face. You do a small bow and leave the stage, swapping places with the announcer. “Alright! How ‘bout that! Looks like we got ourselves a local superstar in the house!” You look down, trying to hide your warming face under your hat.

You make it back to your spot next to your girls at the bar, them greeting you with obnoxious screams and cheer. “You rocked it!” “Now, was that so hard?” they speak over each other. You roll your eyes.

“Alright, alright. Hush before you get us kicked out.” You stare down at your drink meekly.

“Oh, please! They’re going to have to pay to keep us here after that show!” You laugh at your friends’ antics, taking a sip of your drink and adjusting your hat apprehensively.

“Excuse me, ladies.” The cowboy returns with a broad shouldered, bearded man. Your eyes immediately gravitate towards the man. There’s something almost comedic about how someone who just naturally seems to demand attention and authority looks to be attempting to take up as little space as possible. “What a performance. You sure got a talent on your hands.” The cowboy says to you, grabbing your attention. Your brows raise.

“Oh, wow. Well, thank you. I appreciate it.” Your eyes dance back and forth between the cowboy and the bearded man. An overwhelming desperation comes over you, wanting nothing more in that moment than for him to look at you. The cowboy nudges him in the ribs, nearly making him spill the beer in his glass.

“Ain’t a thing. You must’ve put my buddy under a spell or somethin’.” He chuckles, giving him a stern look, making you smile curiously.

“That so…” You playfully squint over at the man with a small smile. He finally finds your eyes. As soon as his gaze falls upon you, it's like he can’t remove himself from your eye contact.

“Good choice.” His deep southern accent rings through your ears. You could’ve sworn a horse just kicked a hole through your chest. It takes a beat or so for your mind to start working again.

“Thanks.” You say shyly as soon as the air returns to your lungs

“Well, us boys got us a booth over there.” The cowboy cuts in, pointing over to a round table containing two other guys. “You girls are more than welcome to come sit with us, if you’d like.” Before you could say anything, your friends answer for you.

“Sounds good to me, handsome.” Your friend flirts, already grabbing her drink glass and sliding out of her seat. The cowboy smiles down at her with his charming grin, offering his elbow. She threads her arm through his with a smile.

“Sy, you mind grabbing us another round?” The cowboy asks as he starts walking back to the table with your girls. Just as you were about to follow the three of them, your other friend holds up a hand to stop you in your tracks.

“You stay and help him.” You give her a suspicious glare, but all she does is wink and follow the other two to the booth. Now that you and Sy are all alone, you fall into an awkward silence. You turn to lean your elbows up against the bar, Sy is quick to follow, standing next to you. He leans his side against the wooden bar top.

“You from around here?” He asks, breaking the silence. He internally cringes at the cheesy line choice. You look down and start fiddling with your drink glass.

“Not precisely. I just moved here for a job opportunity, staying with my friends until I find my own place. You?” He nods.

“Yeah, born and raised. I just got back from Iraq.” Your brows shoot up as you whip your head toward him.

“Military?” You ask. He nods in response. “Army?” You guess, he nods again. “Well, sir, thank you for your service.” You offer a small smile. He chuckles.

“Thank you. Comin’ back to a free concert was a great surprise.” He says with a smile, holding eye contact with you. Jesus, have mercy. That smile is going to lay you out. You lick your lips, biting back a smile. You blink slowly at him.

“Who said anything about free?” You raise a brow and give him a teasing smile. He chuckles again, looking down bashful before looking back to your eyes.

“You’re right. Sorry, I shouldn’t assume. You take card?” He throws back.

“CashApp.” You squint playfully. You two smile at each other before dropping the act, laughing down at your drinks. “So, Sy is it?”

“Yes, ma’am. Captain Syverson, but Sy is just fine.” He says with a smile. You do everything in your power not to drop to the floor. You nod with a smile. Your eyes bounce between his eyes, down to his smiling lips, then back up to his eyes. You could’ve sworn something shifts in his gaze for a second.

“Well, Captain,” your chin tilts down, and you glance up at him. Your wide eyed innocence and use of his title makes his eyes squint in the slightest. Do you even know how you just filled his veins with fire? “How long you been in?”

“Joined in ‘05. Didn’t have much goin’ for me at 22, so Army it was. Been in for ‘bout 13 years. Was gonna be promoted to a Major about two years ago, but I like where I’m at now.” He shrugs. You tilt your head curiously.

“You turned down a promotion that would’ve gotten you out of gunfire?” You furrow your brows. He chuckles and nods, averting his gaze to his near empty beer.

“Well, when you say it like that, it makes me feel crazy.”

“You an adrenaline junky or something?” You say with an airy laugh. He shrugs with a smile.

“I don’t know about that. Havin’ bullets flyin’ at your head seems a bit extreme for just an ‘adrenaline junky’. I’d say it’s more so about my men. Gettin’ up to Major seemed a little too impersonal when you’re playin’ with mens’ lives, you know?” You nod.

“So you’re a big softy then.” You smile. He chuckles, fixing his jaw and shaking his head.

“Don’t say that too loud.” Your smile grows.

“Why not? I think it’s cute.” His gaze finds yours with that smile.

“Yeah, I’m sure the guys would find it cute, too.” He shakes his head, letting his eyes flutter closed. “I’d never live it down.” You let out a small laugh through your nose. “Enough ‘bout me. How long you been singin’? Are you enjoying your new town?” You take in a deep breath at just the mention of the last stressful few months.

“It’s been quite a ride, let me tell you.” You sigh out. You and Sy spend the next half hour getting to know each other, exchanging smiles, laughs, and the occasional longing glance. You both quickly find that talking to one another is like catching up with an old friend, awkward at first but so easy once you get going. The cowboy from earlier comes back up to bring a hand down on Sy’s back with a loud smack, grabbing both yours and Sy’s attention.

“Sorry to interrupt, but the boys are getting antsy. We’re gonna head out to the next bar. See you outside?” You raise your brows slightly, a bit dejected knowing your time with the handsome army man was coming to an end. Sy’s shoulders drop ever so slightly. He lets out a small sigh and nods.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute.” He responds, depleted. The cowboy turns his attention to you.

“It was nice meetin’ you, little lady. Thank you for the great song. Your friends said somethin’ ‘bout goin’ to the ladies room. Should be meetin’ you back over here once they’re out. Enjoy the rest of your night.” He nods to you with a kind smile in a very cowboy-like fashion, tilting his hat. You mimic his gesture, tilting your hat right back as a farewell. He walks off, heading to the two others outside.

You and Sy stay with each other in a short comfortable silence, both trying to find your next words.

“It was nice meeting you.” “Can I get your number?” You both say at the same time. You share a smile. “Yes.” “Likewise.” You both laugh.

“OK, stop that.”

“I wasn’t tryin’.” He shoots back, faking offense. You giggle. God, what he would do to hear that again.

“You got a phone or a pen?” You ask with a bright smile. He chuckles and nods, reaching for the back pocket of his Wrangler jeans.

“Yeah, here.” He unlocks his phone and pulls up a draft for a new contact, handing it to you. You take it with a smile, filling out the empty slots before handing it back to him. He looks down at the contact and furrows his brows with a grin. He cocks his head to the side.

“Aka Karaoke Cowgirl?” He questions, referencing the ending addition to your name. You nod with a smile.

“So you don’t forget which girl I am.” He gives you another one of his earth shattering smiles and shakes his head.

“I won’t. Matter of fact,” He clicks a couple things before holding the phone up in front of his face, leaning back a little. You hear the phone’s imitation camera shutter go off. “There.” He looks down at the new contact photo. You furrow your brows and scrunch up your nose.

“What? Wait! I wasn’t ready!” You object. He shakes his head, smiling down at the picture.

“No, no. It’s perfect. A little blurry but I got that pretty little smile of yours.” Your jaw goes slack and you give him a look of disbelief. You glare at him but can’t keep a warm cheek smile from growing.

“You better call me.” You squint harder. He smiles at your cute, ‘intimidating’ expression.

“I will. Don’t want you huntin’ me down.” He replies playfully with a raised brow. He’s just so- My goddess, does he know how handsome he is? You could stare in each other's eyes forever but you’re abruptly interrupted by a sharp whistle. You both turn to find the cowboy waving down Sy towards the exit. Sy gives the man a tight jawed look before his eyes soften to you. “Unfortunately, I gotta go.” You nod with a small, sad smile.

“Okay,” Just in time, you see your friends behind Sy, rounding the corner from the bathrooms and walking toward you. The feeling of a calloused, rough hand gliding around yours pulls your attention back to the man in front of you. You look up at him as he brings your hand up to his lips, giving your knuckles a soft kiss. Your lips part and your eyes widen ever so slightly, and he struggles to bite back a smirk.

“Enjoy the rest of your night, darlin’. I’ll talk to you later.” He gives you a charming grin, before bringing your hand down, giving it a squeeze before walking away. You stand there shell shocked, watching him leave. Your friends rush up to your squealing, but you can’t take your eyes off him. He turns back to get a final glance at you before exiting.

“Ahh!” “Oh My God!”

“Holy Fuck!” “Jesus Christ!”

“Ahhh!” “AHHHH!” Your friends talk over each other with screams, getting a smile out of you.

“Oh my goodness, will you two shut up!?” You yell back with an eye roll and smile.

“Oh my god. The way he kissed your hand?”

“Those eyes!”

“That smile!”

“Those muscles!”

“That was so hot! Ugh!” You let out a hearty laugh at your friends’ back and forth. You roll your eyes and look towards the door with a longing look.

“Yeah, he was pretty hot…”

My first Sy fic 🥺💕

Sy would DEFINITELY take that promotion to get out of harms way once you are in a long-term relationship/married and/or with children. 😘

[eiightysixbaby]

I dunno why but my brain always short circuits thinking about Eddie and a metal reader like both in all black and chains listening to loud music. He likes watching her put men in their place at the record store when they try and say she doesn’t know that kind of music. They go to concerts together and head bang screaming at the top of their lungs. And then one day she comes over after a lunch with her grandparents and her parents make her wear a pink dress with ruffles and Bobby socks, Mary Jane shoes, no heavy makeup just light and soft and Eddie LOSES HIS FUCKING MIND. His girl still cussing like a sailor, chugging beer and singing to Dio in that fucking pink dress is making him FERAL.

oh my god he would lose his shit.

you’re usually all black and leather and metal and chains, fishnet stockings and combat boots, eyeliner and red lipstick.

so when this happens, he has no idea it’s coming, isn’t expecting to see you like that at all, and when he opens his door to you in a little pink dress that hugs you in the right places but is also so delicate and frilly, he just about creams his jeans. like, he’s down bad enough for you as is, in your normal attire. he had no idea that seeing you like this would get him so riled up, he can’t explain it, it just has him foaming at the mouth. you look so innocent and sweet and he knows you’re not underneath the pink and bows and ruffles, and it’s making his head spin. his eyes are practically burning holes through your skin the way he’s staring at you, and wayne can’t help but catch it. eddie’s hand is gripping the sofa cushion so hard wayne’s like “calm down boy, gonna rip the damn fabric”. but he just can’t handle the way you look right now paired with the way you sing along to holy diver and cuss on a level that rivals wayne’s trucker talk. as soon as he has you alone his hands are skirting up your thighs beneath your dress, squeezing handfuls of your ass. he gets you on all fours on his bed and spanks you, just cause he likes flipping your dress up and having such easy access. he’s growling into your ear, “what would your poor parents think if they knew I was defiling you in this sweet little dress right now?” he has you dumb with the way he’s treating you, ready to fuck you into oblivion in your pretty little outfit. and after this, you’ll sometimes surprise him by wearing something pink or preppy or frilly when you go out with him just to throw him off kilter, loving the way he gets so wound up because of it.

[archangeldyke-all]

Butch trucker Sevika? 👁️👁️

sugar......... your mind.....

men and minors dni

she drives an 18 wheeler across the country. she loves the job. it's just her (with little slayer by her side) ((yes i'm bringing slayer into this i love that little imaginary dog)), and it's always quiet, just an audiobook playing in the background, and she gets to travel and see places she never would have before. she loves it.

you work at one of those mega gas station/ rest stops in the middle of nowhere. your job mainly consists of selling people various snacks from the convenience store or checking out shower stalls for various truckers that come through or re-stocking the spinning hotdog rollers.

sevika stops at your gas station one day to fill up and grab some chips for the long trip ahead of her.

when she sees you, she's starstruck.

she's absolutely silent at the register as you ring her up, just flabbergasted by you and your beauty.

you seem to barely notice her, exhausted at the end of your shift. sevika's grateful for this-- because she's absolutely mortified by her behavior. she's never been this flustered by a girl before.

but she makes it her life mission to get you to notice her.

any time she's even in your state, she makes a long detour to go see you at the gas station.

half the time she goes you aren't even there. she ends these trips cursing herself for being so stupid. but when you are there, she promises herself she won't stop visiting you at the gas station until you tell her to fuck off or she makes you hers.

she quickly becomes a familiar face for you.

you always smile when you see her, asking her how her route's going. she answers honestly, getting tiny giggles out of you when she starts cursing out stupid drivers and the rain.

you think she's fucking adorable. she'd hate it if she knew that's the first word that comes to mind when you think about her.

sure she's ripped and handsome and looks like she could fuck you for days at a time, but she's always stuttering and cursing and stealing glances at you from the aisles of the gas station.

sometimes, late at night she'll come in and stay for a bit, just watching you work, making sure nobody gives you trouble. you always notice. you think she's the sweetest woman you've ever met. (even though you haven't really met her)

one night she catches you after your shift, sitting on a bench outside of the gas station and having a smoke. she pauses on her way in-- not sure if she should act like she really comes here for snacks or just give up her act and talk to you.

she doesn't have to make a decision though, because you decide for her.

"hey." you say, giving her a friendly smile and a wave. she gulps.

"hi."

"long night?" you ask her. she clears her throat and nods.

"yeah. how about you?" she asks. you giggle and shrug.

"the snow's got everyone staying inside so it was pretty slow. good to see you though, i was wondering when you'd come around again." you say, giving her a sweet smile and fluttering your eyelashes at her.

sevika melts.

you offer to share your smoke with her and she takes you up on it. you guys sit on the bench for hours, chatting and giggling and getting to know one another.

at one point, sevika walks you to her rig to introduce you to little slayer. the dog absolutely loves you (she can tell her mama likes you so she's on her best behavior,) and you think little slayer curling up in sevika's big burly arms is about the cutest thing you've ever seen.

at some point, sevika's phone starts ringing-- she's running behind schedule for her shipment. she apologizes and waves goodbye to you, and as she goes, you call after her.

"come back soon!"

she grins the rest of her ride.

sevika finally works up the nerve to ask you out a few months later. you giggle when she does.

"don't you live like, ten hours away?" you ask. she shrugs.

"i could drive here, like in my car. or i could get a delivery here, spend a few days here before i gotta make another. up to you." she says. you giggle and agree.

but when the big day comes, a blizzard rolls through town. you text sevika asking if she'll be able to make it, but don't hear back. you spend your shift depressed and a little heartbroken, missing sevika and knowing you likely wont see her for another week or two.

but as you're wrapping yourself up in your layers getting ready to go home, sevika's rig comes pulling into the empty parking lot. you gasp.

sevika comes tumbling out of her truck, sprinting up to you with a wild look in her eye.

"you're still here!" she exclaims. you let out a disbelieving laugh.

"what are you doing here?!" you ask, wrapping sevika up in a hug. she's just in a wifepleaser and sweats-- she hadn't grabbed her coat before running out in the snow to greet you. she sighs against you.

"i'm sorry i missed your text. i had no signal with all the snow." she says, bashfully rubbing the back of her neck. you giggle.

"you're adorable." you say, shooting up to kiss her. sevika's shocked against you, sighing against your mouth and wrapping her arms around you.

you guys end up spending the night in her truck, talking over chips and sodas, watching the snow fall and cuddling together on the little twin bed in the back, slayer sleeping on top of you.

it becomes a pretty frequent occurrence, even without the snow.

sevika will come by to visit you while you're finishing up work, perfectly timing her mandatory 8 hour break so she can spend time with you.

sometimes you'll take her into town and show her around.

sometimes you guys just chat in her truck.

(sometimes you take her back to your place so you guys can fuck in a bigger bed.)

but eventually, you and sevika are going steady.

it's pretty hard, with only being able to see her once a week and the two of you living across the country from one another. but on your one year anniversary, sevika comes to visit you at work when you aren't expecting her.

she grins at the sight of you lighting up behind the counter, barely able to contain your excitement as you check out the guy in front of her. when it's her turn, you jump over the counter and into her arms.

"what're you doing here?!" you ask as you pepper her face with kisses. sevika giggles.

"i got a surprise for you." she says, shrugging. you pull away from her with a grin.

"well, show me!" you exclaim. sevika giggles as she presses a letter into your hands. the letterhead is from her company, and you furrow your brow as your eyes scan the text, then suddenly, you burst into tears.

sevika takes it the wrong way.

"i can reject it, you know." she says uncertainly. "i don't have to..."

it's a permission slip, allowing sevika to relocate her primary location to your town. you giggle at her words and wrap her up in a hug.

"don't you dare." you whimper against her. she melts in your arms, pressing kisses to your head. "will you move in with me?" you ask as you pull away. sevika grins.

"i was hoping you'd ask that. nobody's renting around here." she admits. you smile.

"my landlord doesn't like dogs, but slayer's not really a dog. she's like a fiesty gerbil." you say. sevika laughs.

"i'll just fight 'im if he gives us shit." she says. you grin.

there's a line forming behind sevika, and her truck is burning gas as it idles in the parking lot, but you don't care about either as you lean in to capture her lips in a kiss.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian