Bad Dad Bod

Adrian wasn’t even sure why he begged you so much to go with him on a ‘totally fun and fulfilling road trip to kill a bunch of human traffickers.’ Maybe he wanted a company on the road, someone who wouldn't tell him to shut up when he brought up facts about octopuses, someone who wouldn’t judge him for listening to pop music, just like Chris would.

Or maybe he just felt lonely these days and needed that closeness.

All those late patrols in snowed-in Evergreen. Quiet, empty streets that have nothing to offer to an adrenaline junkie twirling knives between his fingers. Those nights when he passed the time by looking into people’s windows, seeing families baking gingerbread, couples in love sipping mulled wine and watching Christmas movies… Even raccoons by the dumpster were munching on trash together.

And he was all alone.

Not that he needed anyone anyway. He definitely didn’t need you, that’s for sure.

And you did not need him, right? You made it blatantly clear after what happened in Vegas. After that night (and that morning) you haven’t brought it up, and when Adrian decided to take the leap and talk with you about it? You shut him down real quick.

And now you were with him in the middle of nowhere, annoyed out of your mind because Adrian threw a severed finger into your lap after he returned from the carnage in the docks.

To be fair, his explanation was almost… sweet?

He wanted to give you the ring one of those lowlifes was wearing, muttering something about it being better than Ring Pops. But apparently, the thing was stuck tight, and his solution was to bring the entire finger and cheerfully suggest, “Just slide it off the other way.”

Not gonna mention he was particularly bitchy the entire ride back, especially after you refused to wear the blood ring, and decided to stop at the motel to rest your heads before driving the rest of the way to Evergreen.

“I told you! You didn’t need a getaway driver!” you exclaimed as you were stepping out of the car into the evening darkness.

“I do need a getaway driver, though!” Adrian protested right back, scrambling out of the passenger seat of his Sebring. He winced when you slammed the car door shut and tossed him the keys.

Adrian absolutely did not need a getaway driver; he was simply hoping to soften your heart on the road and make you finally admit you liked him.

“Then stop bitching about me being tired, okay? If you want to get to Evergreen tonight, you can drive yourself.” You argued back with no avail. Adrian only stomped his feet like a little child before storming off to get the keys to the motel room.

You swear he was doing it on purpose, irritating you, that is. As you walked down the corridor of the rundown motel, Adrian kept stepping on your heels. Each time he muttered a quiet “sorry,” but it was so half-hearted you knew he didn’t mean it.

Passing one particular room, you heard wailing, bed creaking, and low growls. Your pace quickened immediately, though it was Adrian who fell behind.

It wasn’t until the heel‑stepping stopped that you realized he was no longer breathing down your neck and sticking to you like a moth to flame.

He was crouched by the door of that room, trying to peek through the keyhole and catch a glimpse of whatever was going on in there.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you hissed, but the stage whisper didn’t pull him away. “Adrian!” you snapped again.

“What? I had to check if the guy was just fucking his partner or if he’d turned the place into a torture chamber. That’s a totally valid reason to look!” he shot back, huffing as he stood and hurried to catch up with you.

"Sicko." Another scoff, another eyeroll. You swear your eyes will eventually roll out of your eye sockets if Adrian does not stop annoying you.

Why did you even agree to go with him? You had no idea.

Despite how strained things were between you, there was still that nagging voice in your head urging you to stay close. Maybe it was intuition, a sense that he would need your help in the near future, or maybe it was something worse, like the fact that you weren’t ready to let go of him just yet.

What did he actually mean to you? A teammate. A friend at most. The fact that you hooked up meant nothing. And it wasn't even penetration!

“Bore.” Adrian scooted past you, room keys dangling from between his fingertips, and checked the numbers on the doors: Room 7A.

Much to your dismay, your room was right next to that wild couple Adrian was spying on a few seconds ago.

It was going to be a long night.

Once you stepped into the surprisingly tidy room, the relentless thumping of a bed against the wall next door barely registered, you dropped face-first onto the mattress, too exhausted to care.

The double bed in the shape of a heart dominated the cramped space, its size almost comical in the tiny room. The wood paneling, combined with the yellowish light from a faded red lamp, created a cozy atmosphere that almost made you forget who you were sharing a bed with.

“Is this a fucking brothel?” The sheets muffled the complaint, yet Adrian picked it up.

“Brothel, motel, Holiday Inn, who cares? You’re the one who wanted to rest, not me.” Adrian slid onto the bed next to you and lightly tapped your back. Such a light and fleeting touch was already sending Adrian into overdrive.

How come the fabric of your clothes was always so soft? How come you always smelled so good?

His hand lingered on your back, almost unconsciously. What began as a teasing tap shifted into a gentle caress, each motion carrying a quiet promise. Adrian was soothing you.

“I mean, the room is kinda nice if you think about it,” he murmured, fingers tracing along your spine like he was counting each vertebra. “Heart-shaped bed, red lamps, sex ambiance from next door… It’s like a cheap honeymoon, right?”

And there it was again. Adrian was reaching out, trying to close the distance you kept widening. He couldn’t help himself, always trying to fan the fragile spark that was created in Vegas.

But you knew what would happen if that fire caught. He was chaos walking, a stray rocket drifting toward ignition and the explosion would consume both of you.

Your head turned to look at him sitting next to you in the dim light. Disheveled hair, crooked glasses, civilian clothes, he looked so ordinary, so deceptively innocent. If you hadn’t known him, you might have believed it.

“We’re not on honeymoon, because we’re not married.” You whispered after an excruciating moment of silence.

“So you keep saying.” His shoulders sagged, his hand momentarily stopping on your back before resuming those slow, deliberate circles, as if he could soothe away your irritation.

“If every time you drag me somewhere is just to talk Vegas, then stop. What happened in Vegas stays in Vegas. End of story.” you caught his wrist, stopping those gentle and loving touches that were only making it harder for you to focus on hating him.

Adrian let out a sharp laugh, scoffing as he pulled his hand back to his lap. “That’s really emotionally mature, dude. Right now, I’m the normal one between us, and that’s… honestly embarrassing for you.”

“You’re everything but normal.” your jaw tensed; it was a miracle your teeth did not crack from the force.

“At least I’m trying. You keep running, pretending none of it mattered. But it did. It mattered to me.” Adrian’s heart was hammering in his chest. He finally admitted it out loud. Vegas mattered to him. You mattered to him.

“But you’re such a fucking cunt you will rather shut me off than admit you liked it!” and with that, Adrian ran off without letting you say another word, the room door slamming shut behind him with a loud bang.

How dare he call you out on something so real? He saw right through the wall you built after Vegas. What you thought was solid stone and steel was really just glass.

Transparent, fragile, breakable.

Adrian kept hitting that glass wall, each strike leaving a fracture, each blow echoing louder. And when he gives the last blow, the glass castle will fall apart, crashing down and letting out everything you’ve been holding inside for months.

Adrian didn’t return for a while. Lone silhouette by the ice box, the cold air of early winter was doing its job, filling his lungs and cooling him down. He didn’t want to scream, of course not, but what other choice did you give him?

The only thing that pulled Adrian out of his thoughts was the sudden crunch of ice and the stench of cigarette smoke.

“You don’t mind, do you?” a raspy voice slurred, words mangled around the cigarette dangling from his lips.

“No, no, go ahead.” Adrian waved him off without looking, eyes fixed on the flickering neon sign bleeding red into the fog. The guy hummed low, scooping ice into a bucket with jerky movements.

“Honeymoon,” he rasped, grinning through yellowed teeth. “You know how that is. Room 8A has never seen a better show. But hey, at least one of us is getting laid, huh?” his pig laugh boomed through the parking lot before he disappeared with rhythm to his step, leaving Adrian alone again.

Tiny snowflakes drifted from the sky, mixing with the fog that wrapped the motel in a milky white. When the last letter of the neon-red sign finally flickered out, he headed back into the motel room.

Without a word, he walked past you, sitting on the bed, flipping through the motel Bible, and headed straight for the cramped bathroom in the corner. Then came the sound of running water, louder than it should have been, and that’s when you realized Adrian hadn’t bothered to close the door.

“Care to close the door, Mr. No Shame?” you called out half-annoyed, though you doubted he could hear you over the running water.

“No,” came the reply, warped by the bathroom’s echo. “I’m warming up the bedroom with steam. Otherwise, we’ll freeze in here.”

The real reason was different. Adrian ‘I don’t like sex, because it’s sex’ Chase was exactly after that. Because it was the only kind of closeness you’d ever let him have. The only kind he’d ever known from you.

And at the moment? He was chasing the feeling of not being alone.

There was only one and only mirror in the room, situated at the perfect angle, which framed you like a portrait when Adrian glanced through the open bathroom door. You sat on the bed, unaware, lost in the pages of the motel Bible, tugging on the sleeve of your shirt to keep your hands busy.

Then your eyes lifted. And in the mirror, your gaze locked with his. The air shifted. He almost groaned.

Besides the sound of water running, the room was silent, and neither of you dared to break the sudden peace with useless words. So you just stared at each other in the reflection while something dangerous and unspoken hung in the air.

Back in Vegas, you had felt Adrian, but now you finally had a chance to see him.

Sharp edges and soft dips veiled in hot steam, broken only by the slow glide of his soapy hands across his own skin.

How come he looked so good in a rusty motel shower? How come he made you want him as much as you wanted to punch him in the face?

Your gaze betrayed you, dragging shamelessly over him. From that maddeningly calm face to the rise and fall of his chest, slick with water, down to the hard lines of his stomach and…

You inhaled sharply, heat flooding your cheeks as your eyes snapped back to his. Adrian was already smirking.

He knew.

He knew exactly how much it was affecting you. Almost as much as it was affecting him.

The silence stretched. Heavy. Until his hand began sliding lower across his stomach, water tracing every inch like it wanted you to watch.

A non-existent agreement was passed between you: Creep on me. Creep on me. I’m a little bit lonely, show me that you want me. Don't take your eyes off me. Creep on me.

And God, you didn’t take your eyes off him even when he wrapped his hand around his half-hard cock and started stroking himself in a thrilling, perverse show.

Rough pads of his fingers contrasted against the velvety skin of his dick, yet he wished it were your soft hand wrapped around him instead. Just a few more seconds, he thought, just a few more seconds and you will break.

“Do you feel warm yet?” Adrian’s voice snapped you out of the haze you were in.

Heat was pooled in your cheeks, painting them red.

“It’s hot in here,” he offered, grip tightening at the tip and making him hum in pleasure. “And there’s room for one more.”

The sound worked like a siren’s call, calling you closer, closer. Your legs moved before your mind caught up, carrying you toward the steam-flooded bathroom. The humid air like a punch to the face.

“What are you doing?” The question slipped out with a sigh. It wasn’t an accusation. It wasn’t anger. Just… something else.

Adrian tilted his head, droplets sliding down his jaw, his smile genuine. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Getting on my nerves, probably.”

“Is it working?” he leaned towards you, leaving the hot, streaming water behind him. That sweet smile was turning into the wolfish grin you had seen before. He wore that smile whenever he was running high on adrenaline after a successful kill.

You weren’t sure what it was that he looked so dangerous without his glasses.  Without them, his eyes were predatory, and they were locked on you like you were the only thing worth hunting.

You took a step back, the tiles cold beneath your feet. Adrian immediately extended his hand, palm open, water cascading down his arm. “Come here.”

He had gone so far as to get you on this trip, and despite the argument you had earlier, you were standing right in front of him, looking into his eyes while he stood gloriously naked in front of you.

The precipice.

He needed to make you fall in the right direction.

What he saw as a sign of openness, an invitation to the vulnerable dance he’d been performing alone, you saw as a threat. If you gave in, there would be no way back

Your left leg slid back, barely a step, but Adrian noticed right away. “Bzzz, wrong.”

“You’re the bad decision, Adrian.” the words came out sharp, but unsteady.

“So what? You make bad decisions all the time.”

“No? I don’t!”

“Yes, you do! I can see the way you fight, you know? Mistake after mistake, and you don’t even see it.” His voice bounced off the misty tiles, “You never take chances, have you noticed that? You only take a shot when you’re 100 % sure it will land.”

Say what you want about Adrian Chase, but he was a genius when it came to fighting, despite his obvious bluntness in other aspects of his life.

Then his tone dropped, eyes softened. “Just… Let me be your next mistake.”

And that got you. His pleading words, laced with frustration, rang in your head. Echoing.

Mistake.

Mistake… Make a mistake… Take the chance…

Adrian saw it too, the crack in your walls, and he didn’t wait. Instead of standing there like a fool, hoping you’d reach for him, he took your hand himself and pulled you slowly into the cramped, steaming shower.

Hot water made your skin break out in goosebumps as it drenched your clothes. Fabric clung to you in seconds, heavy and soaked, while wet strands of hair blurred your vision.

Adrian leaned in, wanting to kiss you, but stopped when you flinched away. Just a reflex, but enough to tell him everything. He didn’t push. Instead, his mouth found your jaw, tracing a line of hot, wet kisses up to your ear.

“Do you want me?” Adrian whispered, kissing the shell of your ear.

Did you want him? Adrian Chase? Vigilante? The man who plagued your dreams ever since you joined the 11th Street Kids? The man whose figure creeps in your walls and hums above your bed while you’re lying all alone with your hand down your underwear?

The answer did not come.

That dumb face of his came back into your hazy vision, except this time it wasn’t the usual foolish expression he always wore and that you were used to. His face was serious, focused.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he tried again, softer.

Only then, you nodded.

And only then, Adrian dropped to his knees like the devotee he was.

“Thank fuck,” he muttered to himself while tugging on your pants. He barely had the patience to unbutton them. “I was scared for a minute you would kick me in the dick for even asking.”

“I-I wouldn’t do that.” You definitely would, though. After all, you were close to doing that in Vegas a few months back.

You hated to admit it, but Adrian looked so damn good on his knees in front of you. That stubborn voice in your head even whispered you could get used to that sight, and it took all your willpower to shut that idea down.

His hands were insistent. Tugging, tearing, until your pants with panties dropped with a heavy thud on the bottom of the shower.

“Shame. I like it when it hurts.” Adrian added before his head buried between your legs.

Flat tongue dragged over your pussy, the first taste already made him addicted. “You can punch me in the face if it will make you feel better. It’ll definitely make me feel good.”

“You’re crazy, Adrian.”

“Only for you.”

All of this felt like penance for Adrian. The obsession he developed after Vegas drove you away from him, and now he had the chance to make it better. Kiss you better. Eat your throbbing pussy better and make it crave his tongue above anything else.

So he teased between those soft folds with a pointed tongue, aiming to make you shake and grip his hair in pleasure.

He was so sure he could do that to you; shake in pleasure.

His hand grabbed your thigh and guided it to your shoulder to give himself a better angle, which Adrian immediately took advantage of.

“Still no teeth to bite my tongue off?” Adrian clicked his tongue before sliding it into your fluttering hole. Just a little taste. “Or did you file them away for me?”

“You’re an asshole- fuck.” Your words got cut off by a spark of pleasure blossoming inside you. The warm tongue swirled around your entrance before dipping in again, this time as deep as possible.

“Look at me, c’mon. Look at that asshole who makes you moan. Look at me.” Adrian was already staring at you like you were his moon, not caring that he looked more wrecked than you, nor did he care about the steaming water dripping straight on his face.

God, how much you hated the way he looked at you. How pullable his mopped hair looked, or how his pretty green eyes zeroed in on yours.

“Don’t take your eyes off me,” Adrian instructed before leaning in again, sucking on your clit with sounds so obscene your knees nearly gave up from those sounds alone.

You did not take your eyes off him. You could not.

His head was so snuggly buried between your legs that it wasn’t clear whether he was able to breathe properly. It didn’t matter anyway, right? A man dying by suffocation by pussy was a happy man.

Finally, you decided to grab onto his head, fingers slipping so perfectly into his hair that those pretty, blissed-out eyes rolled back and made him moan against you.

“Please, look at me. Look how good I’m making you feel,” Adrian muttered in between licks, “My pretty not-wife with the sweetest pussy.”

A mix of arousal, saliva, and water dripped down his chin, though it did not make him budge an inch. The only thing that moved was his ever-working tongue, his fingers pressing deeper and harsher into the soft flesh of your thigh, and the red, leaking cock twitching against his belly.

Ecstasy began spreading through your body, toes and fingers tingling, soft moans spilling free past your lips and just as you were starting to feel close… Adrian’s eyes snapped wide open again and stopped slurping between your legs.

“Adrian, I was close!” you whined out loud, but no bitter answer came. He stayed silent, slowly pulling away from you while he stared into the distance with the tiniest hint of a frown.

“Those fuckers are at it again.” Adrian simply said while massaging your thigh in apology.

“What?”

“The honeymooners in the room next to us.”

You couldn’t hear anything over the blood rushing in your head and the stream of water still cascading over your heated bodies. However, you did not doubt Adrian's hearing.

“And what about it?” your head tilted to the side, and your hands pushed on the back of his head, oh so desperately trying to coax him back into eating you out.

“You wanted me to fuck you, yeah? Pound you real good?” Adrian asked right after mumbling something under his breath. But before you could answer, he was turning off the shower, tugging your wet shirt over your head and picking you up like you weighed nothing while simultaneously ignoring all your squeals.

“You need to be loud, okay?” His whisper grazed your ear, urgent, right after he set you on the bed, guiding you up on your hands and knees. The words barely cut through the sounds of bizarre sex from the next room, separated only by a paper-thin motel wall.

You did not dare to ask what he meant by that.

Every instinct screamed to pull back, to keep the walls up, but another, stubborn voice whispered that maybe you didn’t want to. Maybe you wanted to know what would happen if you didn’t fight this.

Give in. Let the fire blaze. Let the knight conquer the glass castle.

You were so in your head that you didn’t even notice Adrian leaving the bed and rummaging around in desperate search for protection.

Just when you heard the foil being torn and discarded, you asked the inevitable question, “Did you plan this, you pervert?” You looked over your shoulder just to see Adrian grinning right up at you while rolling the condom over his cock.

“Yes, duh.” In less than a second, you felt his warm body pressing against you from behind. “Call me a pervert one more time, it’s turning me on.”

“Pervert,” you whispered with a smile, which soon transformed into a perfect ‘O’.

Adrian was big, you knew that by now, but holy hell. It was the burning stretch that got you going, rocking back against him and urging his cock further until he was snuggled deep inside of you.

“There you go,” his hand found home on your stomach, pressing upwards and hoping he could feel himself bulging through. The need to mark himself in you was unmistakable.

You’d been pushing him away for so long. Every advance deflected, every attempt shot down before it could land. Every dumb smile from a fool in love met with your own practiced beam, the kind that said ‘don’t even think about loving me‘.

And yet… Here you were.

No longer pretending there was nothing between you. No longer hiding behind sharp words and distance.

Fake husband and wife. Fake honeymoon. And a pitiful fight with the real couple hidden behind the wall you stared so hard at.

Sweltering fingertips ran from your neck, over your spine, all the way to your tailbone, where they firmly pressed along with praise, ‘Look how good you’re taking me’ and ‘Pretty pussy swallowing me whole’.

The hollow feeling in your chest began filling with fuzz you didn’t expect to appear while Adrian thrusted into you from behind. His hand pressed on your lower back, silently begging you to arch your back more, let him in deeper until he reached your heart and fucked it raw.

Although the pervert behind you brought the vocal part of you, you still weren’t louder than the counterpart wife on the other side of the wall. Their bed slammed against the plaster in a steady rhythm, loud and shameless, while yours? Still planted firmly on the wooden floor.

Your head snapped over your shoulder, and the look you threw at Adrian could have burned him to ash. Fire in your eyes, challenge in his; a silent deal.

He froze for half a second, but then his grin spread slow and sharp, and he hauled you up by your hips. You were no longer arching on hands and knees. Now? You were only on your knees, body held upright by him.

Adrian‘s grip on your torso tightened, “You want to win?” he asked with a raspy voice,fingers lovingly tangling in strands of your hair before pressing the side of your head to the wall. “Then show them how much you love me.”

With that, he jerked into you. Rough, stinging, and rather punishing. One part of his brain burned with devotion. He wanted to make love to you, worship you like the goddess you were. The other part though? It wanted retribution. It wanted you to feel the sting of every moment you pushed him away, every smile that told him ‘don’t even try’.

And those mixed emotions caused havoc; it wasn’t his alone, you felt it too.

It was snowing outside. The kind of night where silence thickens, where lonely hearts can hear their own pulse in the rhythm of falling snow.

You and Adrian, however? You were no longer lost souls outside.

One of you was frost: cold, sharp, biting. The other was a hurricane: wild, relentless, impossible to contain and tearing down every wall you have built.

Together, you were causing a snowstorm within the walls of a crappy motel. It didn’t take long for the squeaky bed to start slamming against the wall, mimicking the bed on the other side. And it did not take long for one of those meretricious framed pictures to fall off.

The frame broke, glass scattered over the ground.

And so did you.

“Oh god!” you gasped out loud after he delivered another deep and harsh thrust, causing your face to slide against the unevenly painted wall and scratch your cheek.

“Louder.” He simply instructed with a groan, his hips snapping again. “Scream louder for me, come on.”

“Holy fuck- Adrian!” Every time you moaned his name, you felt him twitch inside of you, causing you to clench harder around him. The nastiest game of tug you have experienced.

He pressed your head harder against the wall, making you hiss, though you weren’t in your right mind to tell him to stop. “Yes, yes, there you go…”

Bruises were already blossoming on your hips and thighs where his fingers were digging in. Your body was being inked by the vicious force Adrian used on purpose. You reached behind you, fingers curling around his forearm like twisting vines, ready to maim.

But Adrian was faster. His hand caught yours mid-motion, firm but not harsh. “Trying to scratch me?” he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a slow kiss against your knuckles. “That’s hot as hell, but keep it for next time. We have work to do.”

The tip of his cock was hitting that little spongy spot with precision, as if he studied the map of your body long before all this even happened. It caused you to whine loudly until the only sounds you heard were your cries, the wet squelching of your pussy, and the dull thud of the bed and the wall.

Adrian enveloped your frame, hugging you tight, while his hand sneaked around your hip and nestled between your legs. “Does your cute clit need some attention? Hm?”

“You’re the one who need-fuck-needs attention.” It was a mere attempt at hurting his ego while you were at it, but all that bitterness melted the second Adrian started rolling your clit between his fingers like he was born to do so.

You were tightening, tightening, tightening, until that knot in your abdomen snapped with a bang and echoed Adrian’s laughter.

You passed out. You must have, right? Because when you opened your eyes, Adrian was nuzzling against your back, soft cock and filled condom resting inside of your sensitive pussy, and he was running his hands all around in an almost apologetic manner.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

The couple from next door stopped causing ruckus, hopefully for good.

“You did so good, holy shit,” Adrian pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, “Best sex ever, no notes.”

“Did I pass out?”

“Nuh uh, you were just coming so hard you accidentally transported yourself into the future. Pretty cool party trick by the way.”

Adrian only burst out laughing when you turned your head and frowned at him. “For real though, you didn’t pass out, don’t worry.”

Who could say what softened you? Maybe it was the quiet you’d been craving, or the warmth radiating from the man holding you. Maybe it was the lingering steam in the air, or the snow falling just beyond the window.

Whatever it was, something inside you gave way. The storm inside you stilled. Glass walls shattered, ice melted…

You leaned in, nose brushing over Adrian’s in a loving display, before connecting your lips with his. A kiss so light it barely existed, no stronger than the flutter of butterfly wings.

That kiss was different than the one in Vegas; this one wasn’t driven by greed and distress. It was real.

When you pulled back, breath shaky, Adrian didn’t move at first. His eyes stayed closed for a heartbeat longer, like he was memorizing the feeling. Adrian Chase, though, had a memory of a goldfish.

So he kissed you again.

Not rushed. Not reckless.

Lasting. Loving.

And for once, you didn’t fight it. You kissed him back slowly.

When he finally broke apart, his lips hovered near yours, “Careful, keep kissing me like that, and I might start thinking you actually like me.”

“That will never happen, Chase.”