ale

wtk: DEAD DOVE - DO NOT EAT this is lowkey whump…, for x fem readers with a vagina. plot with porn…but really what plot??? idek lol, Adrian Chase AUASPD (autism + antisocial personality disorder), no use of y/n, age gap that they play into/lowk ddlg, thriller, sugar daddy x baby arrangement, dubious consensual workplace affair, infidelity, creepy unsettling pervy and misogynistic thinking, adrian performs gun-play on himself, “just the tip” dubcon, intimacy kink, both think they’re manipulating each other, blowjob/face fucking, “sweetie, pie, gorgeous, pretty little girl, & daddy, sir, mister, meanie” used as nicknames, yelling in argument, negging. smashing of plates, breaking & entering, full nelson p in v, condom sex (rare for me ik, wrap it b4 you tap guys!!!), the implication… is implied, murder, mentions of torture, aspd breakdown/narcissistic collapse, blood in non sexual context, gaslighting, shove in argument, exhibition, stalking, stealing, dacryphilia, breeding, angst if u squint or if ur sensitive lol

an: happy holidays! & happy new year! 2026, wow! thanks again for all the attention of my first adrian post, he’s so fun to write & you were all so sweet + welcoming <3 This was supposed to go up on Halloween, but I lowk went on a bender over that weekend and struggled to finish this for a bit after due to work & general adhd procrastination/laziness lol. not peer reviewed, just google docs spell check and a dream so terribly sorry for any mistakes. I’ll think about revisiting and fixing errors but for now I accept all the charges against me, your honor. This might be one of the darkest pieces I’ve written + uploaded publicly LOL and it’s funny because I feel like their sex is wholesome in this one? Just need to get all these dark ideas out my system before i can write fluff for him (and other characters, please send me ask/req!!!) 🙈! hold this for now though, until later ~

+ this is an au, he’s a manager instead of a busboy, more of an organized style serial killer than a disorganized serial vigilante. You are a metahuman! & for the purpose of this one shot you have thick healthy hair, whatever hair pattern/type that is! Okay baddie? Okay! however old you are, just imagine he’s 10-15 years older than you. In my case, I imagine he’s late 30’s. Has been married to his wife for 4 years. Heavily influenced by Nile from "the beast in me", & this 36 year old at my job who totally wants to fuck me LMAO #would (also more s2 adrian-esque looks wise )

“Yes, I know mom. Of course I’m being cautious when am I not?” You complained 

You moved in with your boyfriend of 2 years a couple months ago and your mom was still constantly being a worry wart. You know it’s out of love but it makes you anxious at times. 

Absent-mindedly listen to her instructions, giving a couple “mhm”s and “yeah”s here and there to show you were still listening even though you weren’t. 

“Agh, babe I hate when you do this” your boyfriend throws his jacket onto you 

You had a habit of turning invisible when you were either extremely underwhelmed or overwhelmed. You’re a meta human but he isn’t.

The disconnect felt isolating at times, especially now since the move and you’ve been having trouble finding a job in this economy but you tried not to take it personally. 

Besides, you didn’t make it a habit to use your power often. Only to get out of trouble but there wasn’t much of that around these days. 

“Okay. Love you too mom. Yeah, okay. Bye!” Finally hanging up you toss the phone onto a pillow and stand up, hugging your boyfriend from the back while he went through the closet 

He smelled of wet cement from his construction job, weed and a musky forest trail, raspberry cologne. a gift you got him for his birthday during your first year together and he’s worn it ever since. 

“Babe, is that just for you or are you selling again?” 

He halted whatever he was looking for, turning his head to the side to look at you a bit, “Why would you ask me that? I told you already I stopped selling.” 

“I know it’s just—sorry. Of course.” You unravel yourself from the position and sit back on the bed. 

Your boyfriend had already been on probation once for distributing substances, it took a while for you guys to rebuild trust. And even after you did, he never truly got back your family’s approval. 

No wonder they were worried when you said you were moving in with him but you were an adult now, making your own decisions and you decided to trust his word. 

“Can I borrow the car to drop off my resume at some places?” You ask

“Yeah sure. The key is on the kitchen counter, but need it back by 7pm on the dot though.” He replies without looking back

You stifle the sigh that came over you, it was getting discouraging not being able to find a job but more so having to share a car. Adamant on not being a burden or dead weight, even though he said it was fine with this new job you hated being another stereotype couple. 

You grab your folder with multiple copies of your resume and look through the job flyers you intended on visiting today. One of them was “Fennel Fields.” a nice Italian diner type restaurant you liked frequenting with friends and family. 

You tuck them all into your bag satchel, give your boyfriend a quick peck on the lips bye as he scrolled through his phone on the couch and were out the door. 

It was already 5:47pm when you were pulling into the very full parking lot of Fennel after having passed through 6 different establishments for a job, two of which even gave you an interview on the spot but you had a feeling you wouldn’t be hearing back from them. 

Your boyfriend already called twice but you weren’t in the mood to answer at the moment, getting rushed only stressed you out more.

With a sigh, you get out of the car and make your way inside the restaurant which was bustlingly busy. Family, groups, friends and couples filled every table, sports on each tv, and the workers speed walking around. 

You manage to flag down a worker at the bar, practically shoving the resume in their hand with a begging silent prayer. “Hey, I see you guys are very busy right and understaffed, I just moved closer to the area and would love a position. Any position, please.” 

The worker skims through the resume before looking back up at you, “How old are you?” 

“I’m 20!”

“Yikes.” Said another worker in passing

You ignore them, offering your best smile. You really needed a fucking job. 

The worker holding your resume looked at the scene behind you, it was like a tornado in here. Almost no space to move as people kept pouring in no doubt from a long day of work themselves just in time for happy hour. 

“Be here tomorrow for a test run. You start at 12pm. You can discuss the logistics when our manager gets back. Welcome and good luck, you’re gonna need it.” 

They extend their hand and you shake it excitedly, “Thank you so much, I won’t disappoint.” 

MONDAY

“Oh yeah, that’s the new waitress, we got her while you were gone to help with a rush. Real sweet kid.”

“Kid?” Adrian inquires.

“Mhm, she’s officially the new baby out of us, only 20.”

Adrian rolls his eyes. “There wasn’t anyone else? She’s not even old enough to sit at the bar.”

“Awh, give her a break, man, she’s 20, not some barely legal 18-year-old. Plus the customers love her already, she’s quick on her feet and competent at her job.”

He bit the inside of his lip to hold back on negging his employee for making hasty decisions without him there. He could taste metal.

He hated feeling this rage in public, outside of his other work, of course. It always reminded him that no matter how innately empty he was, human emotions weren’t above him. Even when he couldn’t understand others, he was drowned in the sick feeling of his own.

“Mhm, no offense, sir, but you have that weird look again.”

He didn’t respond, but he still quickly unclenched his jaw and relaxed his face, forcing personality back into his eyes as he broke into a smile. “It’s fine, you say she’s good then okay. Just make sure she continues getting proper training… and next time, never make a decision like that while I’m not here, okay?”

The younger man felt an unsettled chill run up his spine, the humid bar suddenly felt cool as the older man’s gaze stayed steady on him, his bright smile never actually reaching his eyes.

“Okay, sir,” he barely gulped out.

He pats the younger man on the back, firm and pleased to have regained control of the conversation and establish a bit of dominance. As the way things should be.

They both turn to leave, when the bathroom door swings open, and you sidestep the both of them, now in your own uniform. Freshly done braided pigtails following behind you. He caught himself staring at the way they seemed to dance in the air whenever you moved, hair never coming out of place in the chaos of your actions.

He wondered what it’d take for them to unravel. How they’d look disheveled and messy. Out of place. Undone. How you’d look.

He pulls his eyes away and takes one last look around: young couples in booths, friend groups watching whatever game is on, and desperately sad individuals throwing back drink after drink at the bar.

You were at one of the booths, taking an order for a couple that chose to sit next to each other rather than across. Gross.

A tight-lipped smile on your face as you were writing down whatever the lady was saying, ignoring the way that vile creature of a man was clearly taking in your legs in this uniform despite his madam next to him.

Adrian needed to go in to look over some numbers, but he couldn’t budge from in front of his office door, eyes remaining on you to make sure nothing inappropriate was going to happen under his watch. It’s his job, duh.

You stop writing and give one last smile at the couple, taking both menus and turning around. As you turn, though, you now roll your eyes in the privacy of your own space, pulling down your shorts that were riding up with one quick tug of the hand.

You feel a heavy gaze on you, and when you look to your left, sure enough, you find your manager looking in your direction. But your eyes meet his immediately and sure enough you can feel it: he had specifically been staring at you.

You’ve never spoken to him yet, taking care and learning of everything through your other co-workers since your hiring process was speedy, to say the least. It was busy, and they really needed people.

You offered a small wave and smile, a semi “real” one at another “comrade” of the food industry and, well, your boss, but as soon as you did, he faltered, blinking and then turning around, gone into his office without a word.

“Well that’s odd as hell,” you mutter, stopping in your tracks a bit. You know your hiring process was a bit awkward, but was a grown man really going to act this way?

You shook your head and continued on, making your way to the kitchen with your tickets.

If your “secret” eye roll he caught wasn’t enough to be curious, your direct smile to him almost ended Adrian on the spot.

Now that Adrian’s gotten a good look at your face, he feels sick. A mixture of curiosity, attraction, and the need to protect all brewing in his twisted gut. Mind already trying to feed him images of things that go against the fine line he walks to not lose control of himself. His true self.

The rules he just barely abides and plays by to be deemed a “normal” member of society, whatever that fucking means.

It’s insulting, he only worked there to keep a low profile since he’s super important, but you? You were a needle in a haystack.

He quite literally felt the blood as it rushed to his dick, the uncomfortable sudden strain and ache as a tent started forming in his khaki work pants.

No, no, no.

You were young, so young. Okay, well, at least much younger than him, who is very “merry” married, 37, and saw gray hair amongst his golden ginger this morning.

He was unc.

He groaned, pulling out some accounting files from a drawer at his desk and laid it out in front of him. He had to get these numbers done, last tasks, just focus.

He hears someone call your name from the kitchen, it’s muffled, but it’s certainly your name, no doubt about it. No one should be yelling at you, no matter the urgency. He picks up his trusty fine-tipped pen, the tiny metal cool in his hands. As he leans in closer to his desk, the shift causes his ignored throbbing cock to pulse, the movement giving a ghostly friction in his pure white Calvins.

A guttural groan escapes his throat. How pathetic, he thought, his raging boner was betraying him. How could you have him like this already? He’s been so good.

“Fuck this.”

Adrian Chase started fisting himself in the middle of his office, he even took out the secret gun he kept in his locked bottom cabinet and put the gun in his mouth to keep him from making any noise besides heavy panting.

He was just going through a bored phase with his boring marriage, ignorant of him to think he wouldn’t turn into those 30-something perverts who toed the line and danced with morality.

His strokes were getting sloppier now as he was getting closer to coming, spit coming down his mouth, nose flared and eyebrows furrowed angrily in concentration.

Everyone went through this, he wasn’t an asshole. He loves his wife, he loves her so much that he’s trying to hurry up and come before she calls him for his lunch break. 

Isn’t that considerate?

He looks at the miniature clock on his desk, 12:55:32. The gun was getting heavier in his mouth now, teeth fighting to keep it straight while his aviators were slipping down his beaded, sweaty nose. 

Not so he couldn’t potentially somehow die, but so these moans couldn’t bounce off these thin walls.

He feels his stomach knot up, voice strangled as his load shoots everywhere. Now in his hand, desk, and even the floor. As his dick goes back flaccid, he drops the gun into his lap, staring at the ceiling.

This was a one-time thing, he thought. It couldn’t happen again. He's finally settled enough to where he’s not under a microscope. His life is as mundane as everyone else’s, at least from the outside.

Perfect boring job, perfect boring house, with a perfect boring marriage. How could he have time to kill, officer?

He chuckles at himself, looking down at the mess he’s made.

“Oh yeah, her.”

He picks up his gun and stares at it for a moment before cleaning it with wipes. He then puts it back in his trusty locked drawer. He uses the rest of the wipes to clean himself up and as he’s tossing the semen- spoiled napkins into the trash, his phone rings. He looks at the clock: 1 p.m. on the dot.

A deep annoyed sigh leaves him before he even realizes, while picking up the phone. His wife’s full name across the screen. “Hello,” he states more like a question.

“Hey baby, how’s work?” his wife asks, a familiar voice coming through the other end of his phone.

For some reason, her voice sounded more nasally than usual, grating really.

He stares off through the window, watching the busy restaurant through his one-way tinted blinds. “Work’s fine, busy, what’s up with you?” he mumbles.

While she starts rambling about the day he couldn’t give less of a fuck about, you walk past his office with your own phone to your ear, a “fresh” stack of menus in your other hand. 

Thick, healthy pigtails are flowing behind you. He notices how you tied both of them off with red rubber bands to match the uniform color, not one hair out of order, despite the grueling warmth of a hectic 9-hour shift in a decently popular diner.

God, he wanted to tug on them while you sucked on him.

He felt the same stir in his stomach from earlier as his eyes remained on you, making your way through the restaurant as if it’s second nature already.

You fade into the sea of busy, buzzed heads further and further into the restaurant; his wife’s voice fades back in; he honestly forgot her there for a moment.

“Hello? Adrian, did you hear me?” she asks through the phone. He rolls his eyes as he answers. “Sorry, can you repeat yourself, honey?” The nickname almost makes him gag, 5 years in and he still can’t get used to it, but she insists on it for some reason.

He’d rather not argue over it, so he just goes along with whatever for formalities. If it helps them look like a regular new-ish-wed family, he’s game. Boring job, boring house, with a boring marriage. How could he have time to fucking kill, officer?

“I asked if you would be bringing food or should I order something tonight?” she repeats, louder this time, as if that was the issue and he wasn’t just tuning her out.

He looked at the watch on his hand, then the angular clock in his office. It seemed this phone call was going on in literal slow motion.

Well technically, Adrian could leave at any time, but it was his second week back and he actually gave somewhat of a damn about this position. He had already bulk ordered everything they were running low on and completed two deliveries today. Counting the numbers wouldn’t take more than 30 minutes. Maybe an hour if he was really bored and stretched it.

He knows that you, however, don’t get off until 8:00 tonight and he’s made it a point to start making sure you get home safely. As a manager should, of course. It’s a nice thing to do, the responsible thing to do considering the job you worked. Who knew what creepy customer would develop a fixation on you and stalk you and attempt to rape you? That just couldn’t fly by him.

So later that night, after finally getting through the numbers, assigning everyone’s tasks for tomorrow, setting up schedules and giving close-up duty to some random employee, Adrian watched as you entered some beat-up Toyota pickup truck on the passenger side, having to boost yourself up to get in accurately.

He hears some hushed talking before you close the door. Couldn’t make out what was being said, but the voice was distinctly male.

What kind of asshole drives such a tall car and does not help their lady get in? He tuts disapprovingly, setting his car to Drive and slowly taking his foot off the brake, eyes keen on the vehicle as he pulls out of the parking lot behind you, keeping just enough distance that you couldn’t see him in your side mirrors. He was counting on the fact that the driver, or you, wouldn’t look in the rear, though. The sun was set, but it wasn’t dark enough yet.

He’s taken a good mental note so far about some things about you, one of them being that you might also very much be taken. The same car is always dropping you off and picking you up. If not, you’re driving it. The face in the driver’s seat, your nauseating boyfriend (he assumes), has stopped by inside the diner a few times to pick you up.

He remembers his first real day back from “vacation,” which was really just time off for his other job, having to take care of and dispose of some creepy fucking alien monster things. He didn’t ask questions, never really cared to. Just got the job done. But when he returned, the diner threw a welcome back gathering for him. Which was weird, because he’s pretty sure he’s heard them rank him as the most off-putting person ever during a break he accidentally walked into.

It’s clicking now that you were there, he remembers you.

He remembered you standing by the door, a case of modelo in your hand to go, backpack on, standing by the door as everyone talked and laughed about bullshit into the night. He remembers some guy knocking twice, then coming in right up behind you, an arm snaking around your shoulder, grabbing one of the beers as he pressed a firm kiss to your temple.

The PDA was off-putting then for Adrian; he just assumed you were some friend of one of his employees. They told him then about you, though, but he wasn’t paying attention at all, on a phone call with his pal Chris when two of his employees came to him rambling off about a sudden rush, and they had to temporarily get someone.

He remembers them walking away when he didn’t respond, too focused on something Chris was saying, and when he turned around there you were hugging your boyfriend.

You made eye contact with Adrian as he had kissed you. He remembered the slight red to your face, you murmuring something about waiting until you both got home as you looked away, a slight nod to him so your boy-thing could get his grabby hands off you in front of your new manager.

He just scoffed then, internally gagging at the display, “these new kids these days” he complained to Chris

Now, Adrian was watching as your left turn signal turned on at a stoplight. He pulled back a bit, waiting until the car turned and was a bit further before doing the same. After a couple more blocks, the car stopped in front of an apartment building.

He watched as the male figure, your boyfriend who seemed to be your age mate, didn’t even open the door for you. He grabbed some bag from the back and started heading in, you trailing behind him as he opened the door.

Adrian parked from across the street, watching you both enter under the dim light of your apartment door that kept flickering. He’ll have to take care of that, can’t be dark when you’re coming home late from work alone.

He hated the way you let yourself collapse on his back, being led into the building. 

If it were him he would’ve carried you.

He hated seeing that boyfriend of yours entering your home. Your sacred home, you probably lived by yourself or even worse with him. You were probably high school sweethearts, “in love”. 

He was probably touching you however he wanted right now, having his way with your body. Your pigtails. A bubbling rage entered his chest as his grip tightened on the steering wheel.

He’s ugly. And has a stupid haircut. What the fuck was he doing coming into your home at almost goddamn 9:30 p.m? Genuinely, how rude, distasteful, disgraceful. Is this how young people behave nowadays? Coming in and out of each other’s homes at whatever time of the day?

And honestly, he was kinda disappointed in you. I mean, you knew better than that. You’re more put together, elegant. This behavior was for whores, people who didn’t value themselves. You’re moving too fast. Is that what you are, fast? Or were you just willingly subjecting yourself to living with a boyfriend in your early 20s? Might as well be in prison.

He sees a light turn on at the lowest level; your boyfriend just entered, two frames coming into view behind drawn curtains. He sees you being pulled into a deep kiss. His head tilted, eyes squinting in focus as he tried to make out the touching, but his phone suddenly rang, startling him.

His wife’s name once again emerged on the screen. Fuck, the food. Before he could either jerk himself again or slam his K-Bar knife through his own skull and bleed out in front of your house, he decided to gather up the last morsel of common sense, pulling out of the street and hurriedly putting the GPS onto a random food place.

THE next day,

Adrian was doing much better. Or so he thought. The goal was just not to think of you as a person. It sounded terrible, but the truth was that being able to even just call you “his” employee felt like too much of a possessive territory for him that would get him too invested in you, to say the least.

And it was working; he hadn’t thought of you since last night as he was currently neck deep into some regulations papers for the building when his door suddenly busts open after what was barely a whisper of a half-knock, you standing there with your hand on the doorknob, eyes furrowed in anger. 

You took a deep breath before speaking as if to self-regulate. “Sir, I need your assistance outside with a customer who asked for you,” you relay, your voice was shaky.

Well shit, this wasn’t going to work out.

3 WEEKS LATER 

Adrian needed time to figure out you and your boyfriend's schedule. Once he did that, knowing you’d be at your and that excuse of a loser boyfriend would be at his own job! 

One day while you were at work, Adrian decided to take advantage of his lunch break 

He swiped your apartment keys from your locker and made a beeline to yours straight from memory. 

“I know it’s around here somewhere…” he turned looking through the window and onto the street. He pulled up to the building that looked like yours and checked for your boyfriend's car which was luckily not there. 

Inside, your apartment was cozy and small. It seemed to be about 600sqft, a studio. Right next to the door was a small table with a coaster, to his left was the kitchen and right a tiny living room. There were two giant curtains acting as a barrier to your bedroom. 

There were men’s shoes all around the floor, “the fuck?, at least be with a man who can pick up after himself.” 

He made his way into your bedroom and your smell overwhelmed his senses. 

He poked through your closet and your drawer until he found a hidden gem, “here are all the goodies.” 

He felt like he found a goldmine, all your panties and bras staring back at him. He fished through them and until he found a bra that has definitely already been worn a couple of times and plopped on the bed:

It was pretty, wine red and the cups lined with black lace. He brought the item up to his nose, a small sniff and fell back fully onto the bed.

“Yeah, you’re coming home with me.” He brought the bra back up to his nose taking an even larger whiff this time, the smell of perfume and sweat entering his airways and making its way all the way down to his cock.

“Fuck, of course you always need attention man.” He said at the forming tent in his jeans.

He obliges to his body's desires, bringing his hand to his pants and the other holding the bra right against his nostrils to breathe in your scent while he undoes his zipper. 

He’s about to pull down his underwear when he hears the jangling of keys at the front, some heavy steps, and the voice of a male. 

Oh shit.

MONTH LATER

The car kept sputtering and tears were brimming your eyes as you stared ahead, nothing but road for a bit until you had to take a right turn past a gas station and into your neighborhood quarter.

“Stupid piece of shit,” you muttered while finally deciding to pull over so you wouldn’t at least cause any disturbance on an otherwise empty road.

You look to your left and right before grabbing your phone, turning on the flashlight and hopping out the truck. The chilly air hits you first, sparing no mercy as another gust of wind blows over from a car so clearly going over the speed limit. The fog feels moist, the wet grass smell overwhelming your senses.

A car is coming up, you can’t make out its model behind the domineering bright headlights practically blinding you. It’s driving at an eerily slow pace through the fog.

“Hopefully just someone really fucking cautious…”

You put your hand up to shield what’s left of your retinas and stick closer to the truck, making your way to the back. As you do so, you hurriedly search up road help services near you and click the first one with 24/7 roadside assistance.

The number rings, and rings, and the car gets closer and closer.

Finally, it connects— you set it to speaker. “You are calling Evergreen Roadside Assistance. Always there to save the day or night!” Are these things always so long?

The car stops, pulling over a couple feet behind you. Bright lights are still on. “To speak to an Evergreen roadside assistant please press one—”

You don’t hesitate, trying to not look over at the looming shadow approach. “C’mon, c’mon, hurry the fuck up, please.”

Finally you connect to an employee. “Hello, this is Jake with Evergreen Roadside Assistance, how can I be of service this evening?”

“You rush out your words after gathering where you are by your Find My and a single sign. “Hello, car started making a weird noise while I was on 26th Street and now I’m on the side of the road and so—”

The shadow figure stops right by your truck, two arm's length away from you. You make a point to show you’re on the phone, and the voice of Jake speaks through with a bit of an echo.

“I don’t need any help, thanks,” you whisper-shout to the figure approaching.

“Huh, you don’t need help anymore?” says Jake. You scoff. “No, sorry, not you,” you say into the phone, now pointing your flashlight at the figure heading towards you.

No way this was my fucking luck, about to get murdered by a Ted Bundy wannabe after a shift from hell, ha!

The figure coming up lets out a chuckle, putting something in their back pocket. They finally come into view fully, and it takes you a second, but you recognize that face and your heart settles— just a bit.

It was your new manager, Adrian Chase. Did he live around here too? You don’t get to ask before he speaks up.

“Hey there, stranger, need any help?” he asks, flashing a wide and bright smile. His hair seemed even more curled than usual, dressed in his usual attire: a polo tee that honestly seemed faded past its age, and jeans always a bit… tight around the crotch area.

He dressed more like a laid-back professor than the manager of a restaurant, but then again, it was just Fennel Fields.

“Hey, boss, you scared the shit out of me,” you say with a small laugh, still not hanging up on the line, just in case.

He shifts, leaning forward with a hand on his hip as he examines your tires.

“Damn, baby, these tires are way past their expiration date. You’re lucky you were even able to pull over.”

You cock your head at the pet name but don’t say anything, instead stooping down as well to see what he was talking about. “This is my boyf— well, it was my ex-boyfriend’s car. He broke up with me and left this. I don’t know anything about fucking cars.”

He tuts. “That mouth.” This time you snap your head, looking at him at the remark. He ignores it and mumbles something incomprehensible before taking your hand. 

You flinch, but his grasp is firm; he makes your hand reach towards the nearest tire, dragging the pad of your fingers onto it. You turn your head back to the tire. The sensation is flat, though a bit gritty and wet from, no doubt, the road. You had no idea what you were supposed to be looking at, though. 

“Feel that?” he whispers while still looking at you.

You don’t look at him, zoning out as you watch his much larger, and ever so slightly veiny hand guide yours. His hand felt like a furnace. Your heart was beating fast; you didn’t even realize when it started up again.

“Smooth as a baby’s ass.” He exhales that last part a bit into your ear, and it makes you jerk your neck, his breath warm in the cool night. It was ticklish. And made you aware you were much too close.

“Hello? Are you still there? If you can confirm, I can get one of our on-the-road agents to you in no time.” The voice on the phone, Jake, said. It snaps you out immediately.

You check the time on your screen, almost half past 10pm. Fuck, I have to get home.

You back up a bit and fully stand up, almost toppling down the small hill. He reaches to hold you up, but you reject it, positioning your feet firmly so you can stand straight.

His face shifts, seemingly dejected from the rejection.

“Well, what’s it gonna be missy? Expensive roadside assistance or a free ride, and I’ll come back to change the tires myself.”

You teared your eyes away from his, which seemed especially dark right now in the night shaded by his frames. You look at the car, all those tired looked bald like the one he made you touch. And it would probably be another 10-30 minutes until roadside assistance came.

But, Adrian, as cute and docile as he seemed, also kind of gave you the creeps. He was always staring, always. You would catch him, and at first he’d look away but after a while he just started smiling at you once you made eye contact. It was unnerving at times. 

He speaks up again, even taking a slight step closer. Both hands in his front jean pockets. “It’s late, you don’t want to be with a stranger, do you? I mean, what if that guy's a pervert.”

What if you’re a pervert? You don’t say that out loud though.

You furrow your brows at his claim, now suddenly aware of your attire as he studies you. You zip up your jacket. There were no other cars driving by right now.

“You’re a young..beautiful girl on the side of the road by yourself. You’re surely thinking about it, right?. Cmon, at least you know me.” 

He was right, you knew him more than you knew a stranger. Right? It should be fine. 

You sigh, finally turning to look at him. “I’d..really appreciate it but please let me pay for gas or the tires or both or anything. I’d hate to be indebted.” 

He laughs, “indebted? Over a ride? Cute but it’s fine. You’ve barely been working here. Save your money. You can owe me by picking up an extra shift or something but this is a courtesy.” Adrian even extends his hand out to you

More like sorry for murdering your boyfriend. He doesn’t say that out-loud though. And to be fair, he so was back to selling drugs to minors.

You stare at it for a moment, before looking into his eyes and shaking, “Thank you, really, Sir.”

“Sir? Don’t make me feel old. You can call me Adrian outside of work.” He doesn’t drop your hand, so you let go first. Pulling back and pointing your thumb at the car, “just, let me get my stuff.” 

You bring your phone up to your ear, and take Jake off speaker finally. “Thank you for the help but uhm, my boss Adrian Chase will be taking me home. Thanks again, sorry.” You exchange goodbyes and hang up. 

Adrian smirks, biting his lip as if holding back his usual smile. 

The name drop was on purpose, he probably knows that considering his reaction but while appreciating this kind act from your new dilf boss, you’d rather not end up as chopped Jane doe liver. 

You make your way to the other side of the car, opening up the driver's side. You reach over and grab your backpack from the passenger seat and necessary driving documents from the passenger thing. 

This city was filled with people with all kinds of freak abilities, and people who were just sick freaks. You decide to also turn on your location and text a friend that you were heading home, that your manager was dropping you off. You weren’t willing to take your chances. 

You toss the backpack over your shoulder and close the door, pressing on the key fob twice to make sure it locks. 

 Adrian returned to the car that same night. Deciding it’d be better to knock out two birds with one stone. 

He uses his own extra tires to switch out your old ones, along with a single spare that your boyfriend, ha, kept in the back. After changing it, he went to the local gas station to fill your car up with gas, and he brought it to one of his many storage units. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you back to your mommy as soon as I get what I need.” 

The next morning, Adrian showed up bright and early at your house. 7:30 am to be precise. 

You woke up to the sound of loud banging on your front door, still half asleep. Begrudgingly made your way to the door, cold and using your comforter for extra heat. Sure enough, there he is on the other side of the door. Hands behind his back like he wasn’t just knocking like the police. 

“Mister Adrian? What are you doing here? You ask whilst rubbing the sleep out of your eyes 

He giggles, “Good morning to you too pie. I’m here to pick you up for work, of course.”

There goes those nicknames again, wait, work? “Work? I don’t start until 12pm today.” 

“Yeah, but you have no car, and I’d rather you not feel indebted to anyone else or risk getting raped in an Uber that was already $30. Cmon, you can sleep in my office until your shift starts.”

You felt annoyed that you were actually considering his proposal at 6 in the morning. You had limited options, the bus being your main one but you knew even that would eventually pile up. 

“So, what’s wrong with the car again?” You asks genuinely 

“Well the tires were bald but I found another issue in the uh… engine so I’m having a buddy of mine check it out.

Well. That sounded, fishy but again, it’d be better to leave it in his hands than get fucked over by some mechanist over charging. 

In the little moment of silence and staring, your stomach growled. You couldn’t help the sheepish smile on your face, you went straight to sleep last night after your shower and didn’t have to eat your dinner or indulge in your late night break up pitty ice cream. 

“C’mon, I’ll make you breakfast in the kitchen.” He urged on and finally you agreed.

He waited in the car while you got ready and gathered your belongings. 

You felt nervous approaching his vehicle, this entire ordeal felt for some reason a lot more.. intimate in the day light. But, managers gave rides to their employees all the time. Nothing fishy going on here. 

You put your backpack at your feet, seat belt buckled, and start parting your hair for your signature pigtails. You’ve found that items are the easiest and best method to keep hair out of your face aside from a ponytail, which you were cutting back on to avoid traction. 

You had a tinny rubber band in your mouth, and you didn’t notice you guys hadn’t left your driveway until halfway through your braid. 

You turn to look at him and find him already looking at you. You finish off one braid and use the tiny rubber band to hold the ends.

“You stare a lot, sir.” 

This causes him to laugh again, breaking eye contact and starting the car. His arm goes behind your head seat as he looks back to reverse out the driveway. This car must be old to not have a back camera, but you don’t say that outloud. 

“I know. Does it make you uncomfortable?” He’s looking at you again

You start on the next braid and think, it didn’t. He’s so cute it almost makes you nervous. But, he’s married, your boss and can also be passive aggressively off putting to your other co-workers and some customers you’ve heard. 

But it doesn’t bother you. So you reply, “No. M’Just not much to look at.”

“Bullshit. Plenty to look at.” 

His comment makes you feel hot, literally. You felt the tips of your ears warm. You finish off your other braid and feel restless. 

You think back to something your ex said during your first month at your job. After he picked you up from your welcoming work party, he made a joke about how Adrian seemed to have a crush. 

He even pushed on to say that you should take advantage of said crush to make more money, “as long as he doesn’t touch you.” You remember him saying. 

You thought it was just drunken testosterone-fueled jealousy that men usually get, but was it true? You knew married men could be sleazy, but Adrian seemed so.. Adrian. You were surprised he was even married. You’d have to find out, now that you were living alone, you’d have to pick up extra shifts anyway.

He was finally pulling into the Flannel Field parking lot when he spoke up again, “Adrian.” He said, unbuckling his seat belt

It snapped you out of your thoughts, “Huh?”

“Earlier you said mister. I told you when we’re out of work, call me Adrian.”

“Sorry, it’s just-“

He cocked his head to the side, like a puppy listening intently 

Honestly, your stomach flipped. Just slightly. 

“Okay, thanks for the ride...Adrian.” 

He held eye contact for a bit, a satisfied smile spreading on his face before sliding out the car with his bag. He closes his side and starts walking around. 

After slipping on your zip up jacket do the same, meeting him at the front doors where he was waiting for you. 

“Ladies first.” He said with a playful bow

That morning, he made you a savory, filling breakfast. Wouldn’t start his own work until you finished it all, and once you did, he washed the plate himself, ushering you to go catch up on rest. He set up a makeshift couch by pushing some chairs together and covering them with his hoodies and coats. 

You slept in his office until 10 minutes before your shift. He didn’t let anyone in his office. 

Adrian barely spared you a glance once you got up to leave, besides acknowledging your small “thank you, boss.” 

He was beaming with excitement inside. You trusted him enough to sleep in the same room; that’s definitely progress! 

He just barely kept his hands to himself, not wanting to scare you away despite the urge to kiss you, play with your pigtails, feel your gentle breath, and exhale to learn your sleeping pattern. You know, simple things. 

After that incident, Adrian picked you up for a week straight. Insisting that the car needed some extra detailing and he’d drop it off to you that weekend, so you begrudgingly agreed, only if he also let you work some extra hours. 

“Is this a money thing?” He asked one morning, head turned to look at you.

His eyes are always so intense, and with him being older you felt like you couldn’t just lie to him. 

“Yeah. My boyfriend and I, before he uh…left, we were splitting rent and utilities but it’s all on me now.”

Silence for a bit as the radio show host makes a joke about the next artist to which Adrian giggles at before speaking again

“I can help you.” He says pointedly, eyes on the road and grip on the steering wheel slightly firmer, white knuckles.

Damn, he really did like you. You hated feeling pitiful but it felt stupid to decline help because of pride. You were drowning in bills right now, the only reason you were okay with not having your car back was because that was one less expense. 

You play with your fingers a bit, hands cold in the car despite the mild heating on your side. 

“It wouldn’t be anything crazy, just, to help keep you on top of anything important. I can do this because I’m your manager. I won’t take no for an answer honestly so please, just accept the fucking help.” 

You looked at him once he finished, his curls were done up and slicked back with some pomade. A quarter zip and Colombia jacket on buffing up his frame. Hands still tight on the steering wheel awaiting your response.

“Okay, thank you, Adrian. I would really appreciate that. I’ll be the hardest worker on the team. I swear.” 

Later that night, while Adrian was sorting away some files in his office you paid him a visit. 

You slipped a torn off note onto his desk that read, “Do you want to fuck?” With a poorly drawn smiley face. 

You can tell he read it over at least three times before looking up at you. 

“What’s the meaning of this?”

“Some asshole thought it’d be funny to write that and stick it in my closet. Kept it because it was kinda, just not from them.” 

He stared at it for a bit before looking back at you, his eyes trailing up your exposed legs, lingering on your braided hair, and finally staring intently into your eyes. 

“And?”

Now you were nervous, and slightly turned on. You adjusted the strap of your work backpack slipping. 

“Well, I just thought… if you ever wanted to, but maybe I’m misreading the vibes and if I am then just forget it but-“

“Are you implying, you want to fuck me, your married boss, because I offered to help pay a few bills?” 

God you wish you had a Time Machine, or a gun. Why on earth did you think this was a good idea again? 

His ring seemed to be staring at you now from its angle. 

“That’s, I’m sorry I just- no excuse. I’m sorry sir, please forget anything I just said. I’ll uh, catch a ride with Britt tonight.” and with that you're out the door before he can even say anything. Face hot with shame. 

SATURDAY MORNING 10:34 AM

The next morning you hear familiar semi-loud knocks at your door. 

You open it up and Adrian is standing there with your keys in his hand. 

“Morning sleepy head, you have a car again.” 

You peek behind him and sure enough there was your car with brand new tires. You’re so excited you react before you think, jumping into his arms with a big hug. Face nuzzled in the crook of his neck. 

He’s still, hands at his side when his words from the previous night hit you. 

 “Are you implying, you want to fuck me, your married boss, because I offered to help pay a few bills?” 

You almost jump off backwards when his arms shoot up to wrap around you tightly, pressing your body fully against his and wrapping your legs around his torso to make sure you don’t fall. 

You both stay like that for a bit, breathing in each other’s air. Your heart was pounding but so was his. 

His hands find your head, resting in your hair. He lets out a groan when your cheek is pressed directly against his. Warm, human, you. 

He finally lets you down, and you hate it. He’s so warm, and firm. Your hand lingers in his when you finally take the keys from him. 

“You’ve done so much for me, I don’t know how to thank you.” 

“Hm. Let’s just start with some coffee.” He says, walking past you and into your apartment. 

You follow him in, locking the door and setting the keys onto your coaster on the table near the door. 

Adrian already made himself at home, sitting down on your small couch facing your average sized tv. 

You feel his eyes follow you as you make your way into the kitchen and become all too aware of your attire. One of your ex’s old shirts that runs almost double your size and loose grinch pajama pants. 

Not sexy at all. 

You find a random Christmas playlist on your phone and press play. Set it up at an even volume before grabbing a mug and placing it under the keurig you got gifted 2 winters ago. You mainly used it for hot chocolate, your ex was the one obsessed with coffee. 

You go to sit next to Adrian on the small couch who smiles at you walking towards him. 

“Did you want to watch something?” You ask, grabbing the remote to hand it to him. 

He takes it and sets it on his lap, directly over his crotch area atop his jeans. 

“Maybe. Not sure yet. Have anything in mind?” He asks, arm on the back of the couch around you. 

The small puttering sound of the coffee machine working in the back was the only thing making noise. 

“Uh, whatever you want. I’ve actually been getting into this medicine show where-“ you’re cut off

“Put it on.” He says

You go to reach for the remote before stopping, just what is it about his tone that makes you listen to everything he says immediately. You almost reached for his crotch for gods sake. 

You’re mentally slapping yourself when he takes your hand and places it directly on his bulge. 

He was hard. 

The rough feeling of his jeans over the growing tent was a sight for sore eyes. Maybe you just haven’t been laid in a while but you felt your core getting wet. 

“I have a wife.” He murmurs, voice thick with want

You can’t help the way your eyes remain on his lips, licking yours in response. 

“I know.”

The coffee machine started making noise to indicate it was done. You go to get up, and heat all over your face and body. 

He observes as you go get the cup and walk back to him, hands carefully secure to make sure none of the hot liquid accidentally spills on the way. 

It’s silent. Air thick with arousal as you place the mug on a coaster next to him and sit down on the floor by his feet. 

He speaks up again, “We’ve been together for years. She’s good to me.” 

It felt more like he was self soothing than anything but you play along, careful to not scare him away. 

“I know.”

His eyes follow your hands, reaching for his belt buckle and removing it. You trace the bottom of his jeans before slowly tugging on his zipper, pulling it down to reveal his boxers underneath.

His breath catches, hand reaching to find your hair. He was slightly disappointed they weren’t in their signature style but he’d attend to that later. 

Your place still looked the same, just less man stuff. Sure you probably sorted it away in a box somewhere aside from the things he took care of. 

He wanted to steal another pair of panties from your bedroom, the ones he had lost their scent a while ago. 

“If…if it’s just the tip, it doesn’t count. What are we fucking prudes? It’s not cheating.” 

You looked up at him on your knees, positioning yourself right in between his manspread. 

Hm. Not sure how that was going to work but you nodded in agreement, “It’s not cheating. Just the tip.” 

You pull down his jeans, Adrian helps you by lifting up a bit so you can slide it down to his ankles. 

You could tell from his underwear alone that his dick was thick, thicker than the average at least. 

You reach to tug at his underwear, trying stop from your jaw going slack in awe of the view in front of you. 

Not only were his thighs incredibly toned, his dick was huge. No wonder his jeans always look so tight, he’s carrying around a 10oz spray can all day.

You go to wrap a hand around him and he anchored himself to the couch, a small moan slipping out when your hand makes contact with his heavy cock. 

His tip was beaming red, slit at the top begging for attention and as if hypnotized your tongue comes out to give it a soft swipe. 

“Fuckghn..”

You feel him shudder beneath you and it sets a blaze in your stomach, between your very own thighs as well. 

You squeeze your thighs, trying to apply some pressure for your own want before you take another kitten lip up his slit to which he lunges forward before falling back on the couch. 

You finally press a gentle kiss onto his red tip, and another before you start full on making out with it. You let the spit flow naturally, relishing in all his little noises and movements beneath you.

The amount of twitching from his sucking on his tip, applying firm licks against his veins, sucking on the little opening. 

Your cunt is starting to hurt from how turned on you are, his hand goes to your head and pushes you down, taking him fully into your mouth. 

You're gagging, tears pricking your eyes but he doesn’t relent. Doesn’t let you come up for air, he watches you gargle on him, spit pooling onto his hairy ginger balls before he lets go, watching you quickly come up for air. 

Coughing a bit before you look up at him. That was incredibly fucking sexy. 

You go back in, this time disregarding the previous til he had set about “just the tip” since he broke it first. You’re putting everything you know to use, eager to impress him. 

“Oh fuck, what-shit, just what are you trying to prove gorgeous?” 

The compliment amps you up even more, praise always being a nice reward. You position yourself better before hollowing out your cheeks and taking a deep breath, deep throating him all the way until your nose reaches the base of his cock. 

You let the spit pool a bit before you start moving your head up and down, his hips hamming forward as well to reach your throat. Your hands are on his thighs to keep you up, knees starting to chaff from the rug beneath you, but you were determined when he started ramming his cock in your mouth as if you were his own personal sex toy. 

His head thrown back, loud moans surely could be heard through your thin apartment walls, but you didn’t care because his noises felt like music to your ears. Encouragement to be used. 

He sputters a bit and you can feel liquid pooling into your mouth and onto your tongue, he came. 

You wait until he looks back down at you, opening his eyes before you swallow his load with a small, satisfied smile as a cocky lazy one spreads on his face. 

“Such a good little girl for daddy, eager to please huh?” 

He gives you a few head pats then motions with his finger for you to turn around so you do. 

You sit cross cross apple sauce facing the TV awaiting your next instructions, ignoring the painful ache in your cunt. 

Adrian felt like he could fly. The most gorgeous girl just gave him the best head he’s had in years. Chris would not believe this. He adjusted himself back into his boxers and jeans before taking a sip of the coffee you so graciously made him. 

You waited patiently, not turning or speaking up with all the shuffling behind you. You felt like you were on cloud nine. You haven't done something this excitingly stupid in a while. 

Was this even something you could tell your friends? Hey. Remember my cute married boss who definitely had eyes for me when I was still in a relationship? I’m fucking him now

Absolutely not, taking this to the grave you thought to yourself

Finally, you feel his two large hands pull your hair back, his fingers brushing your face to get some strands in the front. 

You ignore the shiver down your spine at the small skin on skin contact as if you weren't just full on blowing him. If not for your pride, at least to not ruin your source of income. 

“Watched you do this a hundred times already, can't get sick of it”

He parts your hair gently, careful to not tug too hard anywhere. He starts at the base, tightly and concentrates intently as the three strands of hair miraculously turn into a somewhat comprehensible braid. Proud with himself, he does the second half of hair as well, lost in the way it all comes together. 

He takes a picture of the finished result on his own phone, saving it to his locked hidden folder. 

You turn to him once he’s done, laying your cheek on his knee. His hand comes down to your face once more, cupping your cheek, tracing your nose, your lips..

“You look so pretty like this”

His sudden words stir something inside you but before you can reply his phone starts ringing. You sneak a peak at the photo and it’s his wife. 

Realization hits and you get up to back away but Adrian’s hand finds your wrist, tugging you down slightly into a quick peck before releasing 

What the fuck?

“Yeah, mhm, the donut place is like 10 minutes away? Oh, of course I can get there in time” He continues his conversation while getting up and making his way out your door, not sparing a second glance back. 

Only when he leaves and you lock it you realize he left an envelope of money on the coaster with your car keys. You don't even count it fully before you're already at $500 dollars. 

Actually, what the fuck.  

A WEEK LATER

Nothing for almost 2 weeks since you gave him that blowjob. You were starting to feel like you hallucinated it, but you can still feel his attention on you at all times.  

To be fair, you were semi-avoiding him as well. The heat of your brazen action still affects you whenever you catch a glimpse of him at work. 

That is until the weekend came by and he was at your door at 10 am on Saturday morning telling you to go get changed and get in the car.

So now, you were both at a corner store near his place, and you were getting something from the top shelf when Adrian rounded the corner into the aisle and stood behind you

“I told you, I like you in my line of sight.” His hand finding it way to your waist and resting on your hip.

His hand flexed over your dress you decided to wear, the thin material against the heavy weight of his fingers set a buzz in your stomach. 

You turn, giving him a quick peck on his cheek, “You’ll live.” 

Adrian trailed closely behind you, never letting his hand depart from your body, “Why don't we go back to my place.”

Were you two even at that level yet? 

You spin to face him and both his hands are on your hips now, pulling you close, voice low “How about it huh pretty? Wife's not back until tomorrow.” 

You lay your head on his chest, the small thumping of his heart beat soothing you, his hands go up to your head giving you slow head pats.

Being this close you could smell his cologne, and it smelled a lot like your ex-boyfriends. The one you got him that he wore all the time, it was pretty niche, but the smell was comforting nonetheless. Finally, you look back up at him, “Sure, let's go.”

His house was bigger than you expected honestly, two stories, oak floors and bright lights everywhere. His wife definitely chose it, she had great taste. 

He led you to the bedroom and you gawked at the Alaskan king sized bed with burgundy sheets. He follows behind you and closes the door, locking it as well “Just for safe measure.” he says while taking off his cap and lacing it on the large dresser in front of the bed, 

He points at the bed, “get on” he instructs and you do. Adrian stands in front of you, between your legs and pushes you back onto the bed. He then bunches up your dress, bringing it up past your waist before helping himself to take off your underwear with his teeth, 

“How needy…” you teased on your back now, looking up at him. His eyes seemed more blue now from this angle, the hints of green throughout his iris gave you comfort. His eyebrows, thick and concentrated. A soft pink hue on his face, his bearded stubble barely 2 centimeters long going down to his neck. 

You bring up a hand to touch it, the coarse feeling under your fingers making you realize how real this all was. He shudders when that same hand travels to his hair, fingers entwined in his curls. “Your hair grows long.” you murmur absentmindedly

“Yeah I know, it’s a fucking pain to deal with. I have to stop by my moms for a cut when I come back down…” 

Come back?

You're about to question it when you suddenly feel his finger slipping past your walls and into you, he gives a testy curl to which your back lifts off the bed a bit. Body pliable to his hand. 

“Wish you could see how pretty you look, all laid out like this for me, gorgeous.” Adrian slips in another finger, two now in you before he sets a tangentially slow pace. The sound of your wet cunt and his deliberate tempo filling the bedroom. 

He presses a few kisses to your throat, before going back down and sinking himself fully in front of your cunt, all while maintaining his pace. He brought another hand down to his cock over his pants, giving himself a few rubs while staring directly at your pussy,

You couldn't keep your moans in anymore when he adjusted a third finger in, curling them all simultaneously before he picked up his rhythm adding a bit more pressure while he went faster in and out of you. You were twisting, trashing your body around trying not to close your legs on him, but it felt so good.

Your reactions were close to getting Adrian there himself, every sound that escaped your lips making his aching cock ready to bust out the seams 

Your clit needed some attention so he brought his palm forward to apply pressure to your swollen clit, no longer hidden but instead rounded and asking for attention, the first press has you lurching forward eyes closed in bliss while he stayed there for a second before picking up the pace once more 

Your wetness was leaking onto his palm and the bed, but he didn't care, it all looked so beautiful. He groaned in pleasure when he felt himself come in his jeans while you let out a wry moan when your own orgasm his you. 

Adrian pulled out of you slowly, your legs slightly jerking at the sensation. He then brought his sodden hand up to his face and started licking his fingers one by one as you watched, still in a brain fog haze, but the sight kept you focused on him.

Adrian's phone starts ringing, and he signs while fishing it out his back pocket but answers on the third ring, “Chris! Hey buddy, what’s up?”

You tune out of his conversation, your heart wasn't pounding anymore, and your body was calming down. Legs definitely felt too weak to stand up so you allowed yourself to gaze around the room.

The curtains were drawn in front of the bed, a large dresser with men's cologne and women’s perfume, and jewelry. It felt so grown-up, in a way you didn't yet understand. You shift your head a bit, and on the bedside drawer was a hair tie, a candle, and a small framed photo of Adrian and his wife. 

You suddenly felt sick, turning and sitting up. You smoothed out your dress and put your underwear back on with swiftness before getting off the bed. Your knees were still weak, but staying on the bed any longer would've made you vomit.

Adrian was still on the edge of the bed, giving you a strange look, confused by your sudden actions while listening intently to what the other person was saying. 

He motioned with his hand for you to sit on his lap, so you do, his arm wraps around your waist, and his knee starts bouncing as if to soothe you. You can't help the small smile on your face because it honestly does help. 

From this close, you could kinda hear what this Chris person was saying, but it was muffled by Adrian's huge hand 

“Alright, yeah, I’ll be there by tonight. Of course, I fucking will man, when have I not? Don't start without me, I swear, Chris–” the guy hangs up and Adrian makes a shocked “o” face with his mouth, and it makes you giggle. 

He tosses his phone behind him, “You see the shit I have to deal with baby?” a hand on the nape of your neck, pulling you in for a cheeky kiss, he slips in some tongue, and you moan into his mouth. You can feel the smile spreading on his lips before he pulls back.

“Was that call about what you were saying earlier?”

His hand pushes some hair out of your face, dragging his thumb over your bottom lip

“Yup, leaving tonight. Won’t be back until next week, maybe.”

You pout, and he leans forward to kiss you, even with you moving back. This kiss was harsher, lips firm against yours as if you were his for the taking.

When he finally pulled back again, he laughed, "You're so cute when you're frustrated. I’ll be back quickly, 5 days, not even a full week. And when I do, how about we go on a trip?”

Your ears practically perked up, “Trip?” 

“Yup, since I won't be here for Christmas to keep you warm, how about a trip upstate to a cabin? We could spend the weekend together and be back by Monday. Can you be patient?” 

You nod excitedly. You haven't been on a trip in ages and certainly couldn't afford a cabin getaway by yourself or with your ex, “Are you leaving now, though?”

“Yeah, just have to pack something.” He looked at the duffles sitting on the floor in front of his closet. 

You open the passenger side of his car and in your seat lay an envelope, “When the fuck did he…” you pick it up, and it’s even heavier than the last. 

DECEMBER 30th

The harsh wind blowing through your hair only got colder as he sped up, you were scared. Adrian had this crazed look in his eyes as he kept pressing on the gas. A diabolical smile as he kept looking back at you to see if you were having as much fun as he is.

You felt as though your heart was beating at a higher rate than he was driving, he suddenly brought a hand down to your thigh, offering a firm squeeze. Was it for you or him? Did he notice? You go to put your hand over his but he’s already retracting his hand, not noticing yours, reaching to turn down the volume on a rock song playing.

“We’re here.”

You look at the cabin, it was honestly a beautiful sight. Tucked off into its own corner, brown and tall with a wrap-around porch. A singular, but mighty light illuminating the way.

“I’ll get our bags, wait a moment.”

You suddenly felt a bit nervous. A getaway cabin in the middle of seemingly nowhere, with your manager of 2 months. He gets out of the car and goes to the trunk, you watch him in the rear-view mirror until you’re blocked by the trunk opening, him slightly disappearing behind it. You hear shuffling and feel the weight being lifted off the car as he takes something out.

You feel a bit antsy just sitting there; you reach for the door and push but it doesn’t open. Did he forget to unlock it? You try again, a little harder this time, and you almost fall out with how fast it opens.

“Woah, careful there, silly.” Adrian steadies you. “The passenger side only opens from the outside, an old car. Remember?” he states matter-of-fact with a smile.

You stare at him a moment and melt all over again. Just what were you thinking, scaring yourself like that?

After setting down your belongings you finally had a chance to relax 

You’re both on opposite ends of a long, leather black couch. Two pillows between the both of you, already placed there and one big warm blanket that somehow managed to reach both your ends and cover you. 

Elf was playing on the mini old school television but it honestly felt like background noise with the tension this thick. His legs, longer than yours, were reaching yours. Cold toes brushing against your own every time he made a movement. 

He was staring at the screen, only reacting to the funny bits. He looked soft, curly ginger hair all tousled in its natural state, green eyes behind his frames glued to the screen, pink lips tugged between his teeth. He was wearing a large sweatshirt with some college monogram on it, it was slightly ridding up with the way one arm was behind his neck, holding his head up against the arm of his end of the couch. The big tinted window was right behind him, it had started to snow. 

You allow yourself to keep looking at him, he did it to you all the time. There was some hair trailing down his abs, into the abyss of his grey sweatpants. This made you clench your thighs. 

God, were you really shamelessly horny enough to fuck your middle aged, very married boss?

“You like what you see?” A gruff slightly raspy voice pulls you out of your thoughts. 

Caught, damn. You decide to play into it, “what if I do?”

A beat. Silence from him as he observes you, eyes dragging over your body. You were most covered, wearing some new pajamas with the money he gave you. A long sleeve Henley with Christmas presents on it and a matching pair of shorts. Hair still in the neat pigtails he did himself.

“Ever try mutual masterbation?” He asks

Your eyebrows go up at this, you’ve heard of it but never got the chance. “No, just…see a couple videos.” 

Another beat. He looks up at the television, Elf is stuck in a split position on an escalator. He lets out a small chuckle before looking back at you. 

“Take your clothes off.” 

Your hand is tugging on the sleeve of your henley before he even closes his mouth again, you throw it over your head and place it on the table in front of you. 

Despite the blanket and heating in the cabin the cool air still hit you like a brick, you had no bra underneath so your nipples were already slightly hard, but you continued, taking off your shorts. 

his eyes zeroed in on your breasts as he was taking off his own shirt, his eyes remained on you while pulling off his sweatpants and low and behold, he was free balling, literally. 

You start as you usually do, trailing your fingers down to the slit of your cunt. Using whatever bit of arousal to tease at your clit. Your eyes remain on him slowly stroking himself with a small grin on his face before he dropped his already half hard cock

He tuts, “you’re not doing it right.”

Right?, this was always how you masturbated privately and “it does the job well enough.” You reply shyly, though your fingers halted its movement 

Adrian smiles at your admittion, “well enough? That’s nothing.” He makes a clicking noise with his mouth, the kind you’d make to call over a trained dog as he motions with his hand for you to get close and almost immediately, you do. 

He doesn’t say it but his stomach flips at how well you listen, still couldn’t get used to it. For such a strong personality you were quite malleable in his hands, like putty. “My gorgeous little girl, you just need someone to play with you huh?” 

You couldn’t help the pathetic stare you gave him, eyes all dopey and glassy, slightly humiliated at how much you were being babied while simultaneously relishing in it. 

He pulls you over him, both hands firmly gripping your thighs on either side of him before gently rubbing you down onto his thick slightly pink cock. 

Eyes fluttering shut, the sensation giving you the right amount of teasing pleasure. You tried grinding back and forth by yourself but he stills you. Only allowing you to move when he does so himself. 

He leans in and closes the small distance between you, knocking the air out your lungs as every part of him fills your senses. 

It feels like the first time you ever kissed him. His lips are plush. Strategic in the way the taunt and collide with yours. That desire stirring much deeper than just your stomach. He gives short taunting pecs, whining for you to open your mouth and you do. 

His tongue slips in immediately. Soft, pink, and sliding against yours with a delicious slowness. You can’t stop the little moans that come out each time he applies some pressure against yours and tilts his head to deepen the kiss even more. As if he wants you to consume him in his entirety. 

You love it.

You try to pull back a bit to speak, he’s looking at you wide eyed when you say “your lips are so so-“ you’re cut off when he nods frantically, “yours too baby but please let me just-mghm” he collides with you again, going right back to melting into you.

He’s gentle, almost nurturing in the way one hand travels carefully up and down your body, leaving you with goosebumps all over as the over hold the back of your head possessively so you don’t go anywhere. 

Eventually, he can’t help it either. The way his hips keep jutting up to get some pressure from your heated cunt. The images rolling around in his mind of everything he wants to do to you, everything he wants you to do to him. 

Both his hands slide down and find your hips, grasp firm, kneading your skin like dough. “I can feel, fuck, how-nghnn, wet you are” he whines. One hand goes to the front and you shiver, goosebumps raising the hair on your body as you mewl into his mouth.

Adrian loves the way you’re squirming on him. Trying to get yourself off using his body. His little needy submissive princess. He needed to feel how wet and warm you were. How your canal would suck him in. “Let’s try this again, huh?” 

He cups a handful of your ass with his right hand before trailing his fingers lower, he reaches back into the slit of your pussy, cool wetness that was pooling onto his aching dick meeting him half way. 

His left hand, still holding onto your ass moves back to your hip and starts moving you so that your clit was dragging back and forth on this deep red tip. 

You couldn’t even concentrate on kissing anymore, mind going fuzzy at the sensation of him knowing you everywhere. His mouth moves greedily to your neck, plastering the same wet and desperate kisses down your jugular. 

You almost let out a shriek when you feel his middle finger sink deeply into you, it was seamless but the way he immediately hooked his finger in you caused a knot in your stomach. 

“A-Adrian I need, m-more pleasgnm” you manage before shoving your head in his neck again, trying to shut yourself up and just feel. 

He whispers against you, warm and alive, “I know sweetie I know, daddy’s gonna feel you up real good. Give you all you need.” 

He starts picking up speed with his finger while he holds you down on his tip, the squelch sound of his hand ramming against you and your wet cunt fills up the room, over taking the movie playing on the screen. 

You moan and whine, unable to even speak. “God you’re so wet, all that for me, my little pie? Is all this slick for me?” You nod frantically, and He adds another finger in without warning, both now taking up space in your pussy. 

He slows down a bit to start moving you on his tip again while you get adjusted to his second finger, getting you more wet so you almost don’t even feel it. His own cock was twitching and leaking, pre-cum pooling onto the blanket, but it would wait.  

You manage to concentrate enough to string some words together, slurred no doubt in your state, “Daddy, sir, please I’m, I'm so close.” 

He coos at your warning, egging it on the way his tongue licks up strips of your skin. He could live in your skin. He wanted to bite, to fuse, to feel the warmth of your blood. 

So he takes a bite, harder than he meant to because you do shriek, “Augh, what the f-” you’re cut off in the way he pressed on last kiss against the indents of his teeth and goes back to your mouth to shut you up. 

He enters a third finger into you and starts going faster, the pace reigniting the knot in your stomach. Your eyes shut tight, and before you can speak again you come all over his hands, secretion dripping all over his fingers. 

He pulls them out and uses his other hand to keep you lazily moving against his tip, staring at you for your reaction as he brings up his fingers to his mouth. The smell of you alone making him feral, arousing something primal in him that he only feels after a successful kill. 

“You’re just as perverted as me, you may not admit it, but that doesn’t mean I’m done with you sweetie.”

You finally get yourself to open your eyes, still shaking and coming down from the orgasm. You don’t rebuttal as you watch the scene before you, Adrian putting his juiced fingers into his mouth one by one. Tongue wrapping around each slowly. 

He’s filthy, taking his time to savor it, the sight honestly made your pussy clench again. He felt it on top of his member. 

“Sit on my face.” He says it like it’s a matter of fact, the only viable option after what you just did. And honestly, you wanted to, but you were shy. It wasn’t a position you often did with your ex. 

“I can just lay down or-” his face darkens at that suggestion, eyebrows furrowed. 

“But that’s not what I said. I said sit on my face. Don't give me other options.” 

You started into his eyes, playing with the hair at his nape. Staring at his puffy pink lips.

“Well, I’ll make the decision for you.” With a small grunt, he shifts his weight and tosses his legs off their current position to man spread. Both feet stamped firmly in a wide stance before putting his hands under your underarms and with one swoop, lifting you up and sitting you down on his face. 

Your hands hold onto the window for support, looking down you had a clear view of Adrian’s eyes and looking up you had a clear view of the driveway and snow outside. 

It’s as if his face was made to fit your most like this, both his hands slid back down to lock in your legs, and he started shoving his lips into your soaked cunt, nose giving a tantalizing poke to your clit. 

His tongue starts lapping you up, eating hungrily away at your core as if you were made for him to feast on. With every squirm his grip tightened, holding you closer. Licking every crevice of your cunt, sucking on the juices spilling out before they can even hit his face. 

One arm held you steady and the other unraveled to go up your body, hand reaching to cup your tit. Fingers are already tweaking your fully hardened nipple before you can notice. Loud moans erupt from your throat, you didn’t even know you could get that loud. 

He starts grinding you down on his face, hard, suffocating himself in your wetness, in your glory. Moving you back and forth until your second orgasm tackles you. 

Adrian was practically humping the air, dick jumping and twitching at all the sounds coming from you. He didn’t even notice when he came, his thighs soaking in a mini pool of his own sperm. 

You barely have time to register what just happened, chest heaving, brain a complete mush. 

You attempt to get up, and finally he lets go, but as soon as you get your footing he stands up as well, knocking you down onto the couch. 

“God, I’m too lazy to even get up. I… I can barely talk.” You giggle, staring up at the tall wooden ceiling. 

Adrian got a handful of napkins and placed them on the table, taking one to clean off a bit of the blanket, his thighs, and the couch. He tossed it on the ground before patting his area. 

“I’m not done with you, come here.” 

As if moving to the sound of his voice, you did exactly that, watching him intently as he grabbed a condom out of the mini vase on the table. 

You position yourself in front of him, waiting for your next instruction. Core, already wet again at the thought of what else he has planned for you. 

He rips the condom open with his teeth and nods his head for you to adjust yourself, “Turn around, hands on the couch, ass up.” 

“Such a meanie” you tease while adjusting yourself exactly like he asked.

You clench, and oblige. Holding the couch firmly and putting yourself in a doggy style position. Thank goodness this count was semi-soft. This position always irritates your knees after a while. 

Adrian gives himself a few lazy pumps, then pulls the condom over his thick and aching cock. It was a sign, he needed to still feel you. His super human body is already ready to stick itself in someone and ejaculate again. “Don’t worry, buddy, I’m not leaving you out.” 

His eyes and hand travel from your ass, spreading them a bit and giving a medium land slap that echoed through the room. The movie is finished now, some closing theme Christmas song playing in the back. 

His hand counted up your body until it found your braids, he tugs once, gently, then again with a bit more pull. Making your head go back until you were looking at him right in the eye. 

“You have no idea, how many times since I first laid my eyes on you, how much I thought about fucking you like this, in these braids. How many times all I could do was stare at you, when I wanted to pump you full of my cum.” 

The moan that escapes your throat is automatic, and he swallows it by bringing his head down and connecting your lips, another hand wrapped around your throat as his tongue enters your mouth again. 

He trails off a few more pecks before letting you go to adjust himself, knees on both sides by your ankles. He spreads your ass cheeks a bit before repositioning his throbbing cock and delving it into you, your walls greeting him with its warmth. 

“Fuck, wish you knew how good you felt. My sweet, sweet, baby angel.” 

He groans while he offers one last deep push, really making sure he was balls deep, chest flat against your back. You could feel the lines of his abs while his cock twitched inside you. 

“Just gonna do this and…”

Both his arms go up over yours, knocking you off balance for a bit, before you lay all your weight back on him. His hold was strong, secure. You felt safe. 

“I got ya, I got you, sweetie. You feel that?”

Adrian gives a thrust; to get the waters and when you let out that little sound that he likes he feels good enough to keep going. His thrust is more coordinated now, you felt every inch of him pulsing in you as he rammed in and out of your velvet cunt. 

“Use your words.”

“Ye-yes. Fuck, you feel so g-good!”

The heat alone was enough to keep him warm through Washington winters, he was sure of it. He could live in it. Live in you.

Your arms were starting to feel heavy but so was the feeling in your stomach, you could practically see his tip bulging a bit in your stomach, you felt full, stuffed. 

“Almost there baby, fuck you feel so tight around me. Sucking me in all greed, huh you pretty little thing?”

Your cunt clenched automatically at his perverse verbiage, and it caused him to sputter a bit. Your pigtails were in his face, becoming undone with each thrust since there were no mini rubber bands to keep the ride at the end. 

“You’re taking me so, so well, bet you’ve never been fucked like this huh?” He feels his confidence growing when you can only manage an incoherent babble in response.

He keeps the rhythm, continuing to pour his all into you, sweat forming on both your bodies and your juices mixed together. His loaded semen ready to spill into your womb. 

It felt too good. 

“Adrian I’m-

“I know s-sweetie, me, me too.” He said chasing the high, picking up his speed while still remaining that deep angled thrust. 

“T-o…fuck, we’ll come together okay?” He reassured, placing a few gentle kisses on the top of your head. 

You nod eagerly, letting your body submit to the sensation you were experiencing. Letting your body and mind submit to him. 

“Come” he groans out like a wild animal, and your body listens, letting go of the knot that had formed from his consistent pumping. 

He comes too, a lot. So much that it starts spilling out of the condom and back onto his already sodden balls. You’re both breathing heavily, you can feel his heart beating against your back. 

“T-thank you.” It was honestly a feeble attempt at speaking, your voice too raspy to really pronounce anything. Mind sub-coming to sleep as your body caught up. 

He lets go gently, pulling out of you and placing you on your back on the couch before standing and stretching. 

He slips the condom off, dropping it into the pile of used napkins. 

Looking over at you, you were already soundly asleep. Cute. 

The markings on your body were all remnants of him. Good.

He used the last unused napkins to clean you up, removing any stain he could see. He couldn’t help the smile when he noticed the bruises starting to form on your hips and neck, the bite indent right over your jugular. Not too deep, but they’d at least last an extra two days. 

It stirred up something territorial in him, he grazed his finger over each one. Later. He said to himself, when you’ve recovered from these rounds.

Once done, he tossed the spoiled napkins in the trash. Blanket and clothes in the washing machine, and change into different clothes to go out and buy some food. 

When you woke up you felt sore all over, and freezing. You were covered by a different blanket but had no clothes on. 

You attempt to get up and your knees buckle, you hold onto the couch and table and low and behold, on the table there was a morning after pill, an Advil, a bottle of water and a sticky note. 

You pick up the sticky note

“Hey pretty, decided to let you sleep. 

Went to get some food for dinner 

Will brb :)”

“Sticky note instead of a text? Definitely getting old” you laughed but it was honestly touching. 

The handwriting looked eerily similar to the note you got in your locker but then again, most men had shit hand writing. Setting the sticky note back down, you wrap the blanket tighter to keep warm. He cleaned up before he left as well so after peeing, showering and changing into some fresh pajamas you started looking for extra blankets.

Your hair was still damp from the shower, the cool air making you shiver as you quietly shifted through the cabin for the right closet. 

“There should be some extra somewhere…”

You open up a closet door near the stairs and are met with a horrid dry stench. Like the aftermath of a long day at a a farmers market, or the butchers 

You flip the switch, and once your eyes adjust to the new light, revealing the cause of the smell. You fall back with a loud thud, arms barely keeping you up straight as you gawk in horror. an inaudible wry, trying to free itself from your throat as you look at what seems to be dried, bloodied clothes and a hacksaw  

You try to crawl backwards, further away from the scene, but your back hits something firm. Not only that, but you look up, and sure enough, Adrian is staring straight ahead at the scene, almost lost in thought before he finally speaks up.

His voice now like claws against a chalkboard in your ringing ears, “I told you to just wait for me.” he finally looks down, an eerie stillness. “Always my little curious explorer.”

The scream comes now, before you can even control it. Your eyes shut, refusing to even look at the sight of him for any second longer. It’s loud and guttural, but even then, it doesn’t truly capture the fear in your bones.

The sun was down now, you were in a cabin alone with a man nearly twice your age, the only car was his, and you just saw a pile of bloodied male clothes that seemed a lot like clothes for your estranged boyfriend.

You think back to the day before your boyfriend suddenly left, and you two were fine. Sure, you were both worn out from the constant working, sharing a car, and some bills, but you were fine. And the phone call, what had he said again? Fuck, why were you blanking now of all moments? His voice was shaky, but you had assumed he was drinking.

It all started coming back to you: the missing underwear, the car, randomly losing your house key for a few hours, the cologne… oh, god, “he was wearing his cologne.”

Your knees nearly give out as you use the last of your strength to lock the door. You look around in the room, remnants of what was just a romantic getaway, now a literal crime scene.

You force yourself up, ignoring the hot tears still trailing down your face, heart hammering in your chest, practically threatening to jump out.

You’re picking up anything that’s yours that you can see, launching them all straight into your duffel, trying to ignore the flashing images of what could most likely be your boyfriend and listen out for any faint noise outside, but it’s quiet, and that’s what scares you.

You shove on some pants that were lying around and your hoodie that was resting on the chair. Honestly, your mind was blank. The primary plan was to get away from here as fast as possible and figure out the rest later. You’re putting on the running shoes you had on when suddenly three unsettling knocks are on the bedroom door.

You jump up out of your seat in fear, but stay still, body reacting already, tense and shaking as you think about the dangerous man that you had just let in, on the other side of the door.

“Baby, sweetie? I know you’re in there, muffin, c’mon and open the door. Let’s talk,” he coos. He fucking coos, as if this situation was totally normal, as if he was just lying or cheating.

There’s a bit of shuffling, and shaking of the knob before he speaks up again, “Babygirl? You didn’t unlock the door, how are we supposed to talk, huh?”

“Just please, let me leave, Adrian, I won’t tell anyone what I saw, I promise, just please,” you murmur at the end, breaking down again now.

“Leave, leave?” he repeats. “That can’t be right, could’ve sworn I just heard you say you want to leave me. Over what? A minor fucking mistake that you won’t even let me fucking explain? Open the goddamn door, please.”

You scoff, laughing at the “please” he inserted at the end, as if you didn’t just witness and smell the rotting clothes of your fucking ex-boyfriend. You look around for something to help you, frantic as the pulling of the doorknob gets louder. You dig through one of the mini compartments in your duffel bag and find a pen. It would have to do if all else fails.

It’s quiet, too quiet.

You slip the pen in your bra and turn, and the door is still closed. You get down on the ground, your face touching the floor, which would’ve repulsed you, but you were attempting to see if his feet were still at the door. They were, until he walked to the left.

What the fuck? Where was he going? Was he actually leaving, or was it a trick to lure you out?

You get up, brushing your face off and taking light steps to the door, careful not to make any noise on the antique wooden cabin floors. Your heart is practically bursting out of your chest; you had to hold your breath to ease yourself into even getting close to the door, afraid of him hearing you.

You put your ear against the door, quiet as a mouse. Nothing. Not a peep. That is, until you hear a soft repetitive—

“I am so incredibly fucked you— nah, you can’t even begin to imagine, but we don't have to be like this. We can just go back to before you decided to be a fucking nosy rat,” He growls the last part, figures large and daunting as he steps towards you, and you, your heart pumping out of your chest.

He looms over you fully now, in your space.

“This is nothing, but you didn't want to let me fucking explain.” His eyes go big as he huffs, frustration in the shake of his fists alone, barely containing themselves at his side. “Look at me, look at me!” he yells, and you finally do, hot tears streaming down your face.

Where did it go wrong for you, or was it wrong all along?

“How could you do that to him, to anyone? Why me?”

Adrian laughs like you asked an audacious question, “This doesn’t have to be like this, why do you have to go snooping around in places your nose doesn’t belong, sweetie?”

You didn’t take the silly work gossip too seriously then, I mean really what could this seemingly bland old man who managed some dingy diner be so adamant on hiding? This was far worse than you could imagine, the snarl in his words cutting the air.

You could tell he wasn’t going to hurt you, but it wasn’t harmless, it seemed the anger almost confused him at the moment. Like he was lost in it, no, at home in it.

Shaking, cowering really in the corner as he continues puffing out air, muttering to himself now in small spaces. Still in your general direction, blocking you but no longer breathing your air, but you still couldn’t breathe.

Your throat was tight, hot tears now drying, mouth literally shaking from all the whimpers you can’t hold back. And you felt sick because your cunt was still damp against your panties. You were wet. How shameful.

This weekend was perfect, truly. How could it end like this? You could’ve never imagined, but maybe it was there all along. You sink down to the floor, your knees limp, barely holding you together in the first place.

He barely casts you a glance as he starts looking around the room, still muttering to himself as he picks up his own items and starts shoving them into the other duffel bag.

Your throat hurts, but you force yourself to try to speak after some time. “What are you doing?” you manage to rasp out.

Before he even turns around you activate your ability, turning invisible. 

You hold in your breath, though not necessary but the fear alone made you feel like your heart was beating too loudly. 

“Where the fuck did she go?” he calls out your name, and you almost slip on a shirt on the ground. 

As soon as you regained your composure, and he was a bit further away, you snatched the duffle you had been repacking and bolted out the door. You have a 5-second head start considering everything you touch also turns invisible but once he noticed it was missing and heard the squeaking of the steps, he rushed behind you. 

You pick up speed and once downstairs your eyes lock in on his car keys on the kitchen island on top of another envelope next to the bag of groceries

Would it be so wrong to steal from a potential murderer who may have tortured your boyfriend? 

You pick up the key and envelope in one go, almost tripping over the living room carpet with how fast you're running. Your arms were beginning to get tired, and when you looked back, Adrian was at the top of the steps, clearly assessing the situation. 

You set down the things on the couch for a moment, tiptoe back to the kitchen, and begin throwing a bunch of plates and silverware on the floor between the kitchen and living room to create more distance between the two of you while walking backwards

He had his glasses on now and definitely saw the carpet move from where you tripped, and where all the ruckus was coming from, he bolted down the stairs.

You pick everything back up once he's at the end of the steps, and this gives you the extra fuse of energy you needed to make a beeline to the door

"What a neat little trick, so you can turn invisible, huh?"

Once outside, you toss everything in the car; you can worry about double-checking later. You hop into the driver's seat and insert the key into the key fob. With your foot on the gas, you repeatedly try to reverse out of the driveway, but the car won't start.

The cabin door swings open and reveals Adrian, walking out with bloodied feet, dragging a trail of red behind him with each step

A quick glance at him, you would not be able to tell you were in a high-stress situation. He seemed perfectly calm, walking towards you. 

You're hitting the wheel now, doing whatever internal prayer you know for the car to move, “C’mon, you fucking junker, start!” 

That seems to work; the car revs, and you swerve out of the driveway. This makes him pick up his speed, now running head-on, but it's too late. Thankfully, you're fully pressing onto the gas, going 40 over, and ignoring the speed limit of the quiet road 

You only allow yourself to let out a laugh of relief, you didn't realize you were holding in when you're surrounded by nothing but the familiar trees you recognize when you guys were first on your way here.

an: creds for candy cane divider Saradika-graphics. guys, I hate my writing LMAO considered deleting this until I fixed it to my standards but I have no time regardless 😢 I hope this was somewhat enjoyable for anyone reading this, thank you for sparing my demented one shot your time <3

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

Tom is antsy.

This meeting has been dragging on for fucking ages, and he hasn’t been able to stop checking his watch. His knee is bouncing under the table. He’s hardly paying attention to whoever is droning on now about finance models. His mind is stuck on what’s waiting for him in his office.

Or rather, who’s waiting for him.

You’ve already been texting him. He’s been checking his phone under the table and nearly choked on his water when he saw the pictures you sent him. You’re wearing the lingerie he bought you, the delicate pink lace making you look like a dream in the low lighting of the photo. He can see that your pussy has already soaked through the gusset of the thong.

Tom’s praying no one asks him to stand up and speak anymore, because he couldn’t hide his boner if he tried. He’s counting down the seconds until this dumb meeting is over so he can see you. He wants to see your pretty tits bouncing as you ride a dildo just how he tells you to. Maybe you’ll even put in a butt plug for him tonight. Or take two dildos at once.

Fuck, he needs to think about something else before he creams his pants like a teenager.

He grabs a pen and scribbles nonsense on the papers in front of him, hoping he looks busy as he palms his bulge under the table as subtly as he can with his other hand. Someone says something to him about a budget. He nods. Tells them he’ll look at it. Does he know what the budget’s for? Nope. He’ll figure it out later.

When the meeting is decided to be over he’s the first one out of his seat, haphazardly closing his shit in his briefcase and using it as a shield to hide his erection from view as he hurries as nonchalantly as he can to his office. He shuts and locks the door, draws the blinds, throws his briefcase down and all but rips open his laptop.

He fumbles his password a couple times in his haste, but a couple minutes later he’s rewarded with your beautiful, beaming face.

“Hi, daddy.”

“Hi, princess.” He leans back in his chair with a sigh, flashing you a smile as you giggle. “Sorry I took so long, I couldn’t get out of that meeting.”

“It’s okay.” You’re so sweet, lying on your tummy with your legs kicking up behind you. Tom wishes he could actually touch you for once. “Did you like the pictures I sent you?”

“Like them? Babygirl, I loved them.” Tom rolls his chair back just a little so you can watch him pull his cock out of his slacks on camera. “Loved them so much, you got me hard during my meeting.”

You watch with rapt attention as he strokes up and down his cock, your hum a little bit tinny through his laptop speakers. “M’sorry, daddy. I wasn’t trying to be bad, promise.”

“I know, angel, I know.” Tom is quick to reassure you, groaning as he thumbs at his slit. God, he’s leaking everywhere. “Enough about that, yeah? Why don’t you show me your new outfit?”

You grin again and push up off your bed, adjusting your camera so he has a full body view of you in the lingerie. You even do a little twirl for him. How darling.

“What a pretty lady.” Tom coos, squeezing his cock as he watches you. The bralette is sheer pink lace, embroidered with little pink and white flowers, and the thong matches with a small bow on the front. It fits you perfectly (of course it does - Tom had you send him your measurements forever ago), and you look like a fucking doll with the garters and stockings.

“Thank you, daddy.” You gush, moving back over to your camera. You’re bent at the waist and Tom can see right down your cleavage. Christ. “I love them sooo much.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. I’m glad.” Tom likes the way you bite your lip when he calls you pet names. “Why don’t you get out the toy daddy got you, huh? Ride it for me, baby.”

He watches you go into the top drawer of your nightstand and rifle around before pulling out your newest toy from him - a dildo molded after his cock. You come back over, making sure your camera is pointing at your bed before clamoring onto the mattress. Tom watches hungrily as you drag it through your soaked folds, the silicone of the toy soon glistening with your arousal.

“Mmmm daddy.” You moan so sweetly, Tom doesn’t even care if you’re just putting on a show for him. He’ll eat it up every time. You grind down on the toy for a minute, nudging the head against your clit.

“Put him in you, baby.” Tom pants, already feeling his balls tighten. “Come on, honey - daddy needs to see you.”

You give him a pouty look, but it only lasts a second as you move to prop up the dildo and straddle it. You pull those pretty panties to the side and start to sink down onto the toy, whining at the stretch.

“It’s big, daddy.” You’re fucking yourself on about half of the toy, slowly working the rest inside of you. Tom has to suck in a deep breath and slow the way his hand is moving on his cock.

“I know he’s big, babygirl.” He coos, trying to imagine he’s really there, letting you sink onto him. “But you’re doing so good. Such a good, good girl.”

At his praise you finally sink down onto the toy fully, moaning and rocking your hips in little bouncy circles to adjust to the size. When you throw your head back and start riding the dildo, Tom matches his strokes to the pace of your hips.

“Fuck, you take it so good.” He groans, watching the way your tits bounce in that lingerie. “Such a perfect girl for daddy, right princess?”

“Yes, daddy, yes-“ You can barely answer him, poor thing. He can hear how wet your pussy is over the fucking microphone. Jesus Christ, he’s not gonna last.

Tom can always tell when you’re getting close - your rhythm falters, you get all whiney, you start rubbing faster circles on your clit. It doesn’t take long for you to bury the toy as deep as you can as you cum with a loud moan of ‘daddy!’, and as soon as Tom imagines your cunt milking him he’s shooting ropes of cum all over his hand, slacks, and shirt.

There’s a shared moment of silence as you both catch your breath, then Tom clears his throat awkwardly.

“Well..thank you, baby. You were perfect as always.” He shifts in his seat, chest warming at the way you smile at him. “I gotta clean up my mess so I can get back to work. I’ll text you, okay?”

“Okay, daddy.” God, you little tease. You lean forward and blow him a kiss with the toy still inside of you. “Talk to you later.”

When the feed goes dead Tom shuts his laptop with a sigh. Then he pulls out his phone, his softening cock resting on his tummy, and venmos you $500. Then he venmos you $1000 more with a message attached.

‘Buy yourself something pretty, get your nails done, whatever you want. I’m flying you out this weekend. Let’s do it for real this time. ❤️’