#Adam Sackler/reader

[jynzandtonic]

@sacklerscumrag found this pic and @butyoudidthis4what said it was "grown up made it big" Sackler and now I'm just all weepy thinking about the brooklyn brownstone you two live in with the tall bookshelves in the sunny front room and the chaise where he falls asleep reading plays on the weekend and the way he'll come up behind you in the kitchen to kiss your neck and squeeze your ass and how even in his thirties he still tries to get handsy with you on the train and that even though he never thought he'd get married he still found himself on one knee saying "let's fuckin' do it, kid," and the beautiful life you've built together in this big beautiful city and iT'S FINE I'M FINE EVERYTHING IS FINE

[hauntingoldhouses]

the heist

[celtigxr]

idk who is gonna agree with me on this but

and

Same vibe, same font. Little brother, big brother vibe.

Please I want to be sandwiched between them tyty

[inklore]

adam sackler loves to just lay his head in ur lap (possibly burying is face in ur tummy) while u starch his head and just talk to him. hell hun now n then in response but he just loves to hear ur voice and loves it when u ramble and you’re just the best part of his day.

no because that man has the best head of hair to run your fingers through and you know it's one of his love languages ok!!

His head is on your midsection, his palms either at your hips, running along the side of your body, or it's rested below his chin, the other arm angled underneath him in a way that has him completely flat against you. As close as he can be. 

His eyes closed as your fingers run through the strands of his hair, the lull of your voice calming his mind. Making his shit day, all the background noise that has been going on in his head, drown out by the softness of your tone, by the echo of your laugh through your stomach. 

By the scrape of your nails on his scalp, by the mindless stories you tell him about your day. It eases him into something pliant, soft, and calm. He’s not used to this complete calm you give him. That he feels when you’re soothing him like this.

And when you ask him a question, he barely hears it until your fingers stop and he can no longer hear the baritone of your voice from within your diaphragm. Only then does he open his eyes and look up at you. 

His eyes droopy, the slow smile that spreads across his mouth lazy and sappier than anything you’d ever comment on because then he’d swallow it down. Make it fade into some joke or torment of his fingers at your skin, your laugh covering up the fact that he’s completely lost in you. 

But you can see it when he looks up at you. When he rests his chin against your stomach and dismisses your question with one of his own. To keep you talking about you. To keep him lost. To keep feeling that calm. To hold onto the feeling for as long as you’ll let him.

[nerissavenus]

Early morning run - NerissaVenus

Usually, you go on your morning runs alone, your husband complaining it's too early. Today, however, he joins you.

Enjoy,

Nerissa x

It was late, only the light from outside peeking through the curtains, creating light. The air was cool, a slight breeze coming from the open window, causing you to pull your cardigan tighter around you.

The air smelt of cigarettes, your perfume, and sex — your favourite scent in the apartment you shared with your husband.

You smiled softly at the scene in front of you. In your bed, covers bunched up, was your husband, sleeping, hugging your pillow.

Quietly, you got up to use the toilet. Drying your hands, you fluffed your hair around, trying to get it to sit in the way you wanted, but, of course, your hair was stubborn and refused until you eventually chucked it up in a ponytail.

Popping out your retainers, you reached for your purple toothbrush next to Adam’s blue one. It made you smile; it's a simple thing, but intimate.

Spitting the mouthwash out, you went out and rummaged for your workout gear, trying to be quiet so that your husband doesn’t wake up, mindful of the early hour.

Unfortunately, you weren’t as quiet as you wished; when you were slipping on your running trainers, a large arm wrapped around you and a long kiss was placed on your temple.

“Hello,” said Adam, groggy from just waking up.

“Hello,” you said back, grinning to yourself at his appearance. His hair was messy, at odd angles, and his eyes were barely open from sleep. “Sleep well?”

“Quite,” he replied, jumping out of bed, and slipping slightly on the pile of clothes lying on the floor. You desperately tried to stifle a laugh. He glanced back at you, more aware, and narrowed his eyes, “Not a word.”

You raised your hands in defence, “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

He humphed, clearly not believing you.

You watched as he turned the light to the en-suite on, closing his eyes and cursing from its brightness. He then brushed his teeth and too searched for his clothes.

“What are you doing?” You asked curiously, having been watching him the whole time. Adam didn’t usually get up early when he wasn’t working.

He shrugged his jumper on, walked towards you, bent down and kissed you softly, a goofy smile showing his dimples. “What does it look like? I’m going to go on a run with you.”

Without even meaning to, you laughed loudly. “Really?” You asked, excited, “Even though it’s ridiculously early?” Something he had complained about many, many times.

“Yes,” he rolled his eyes, “Even though it is ridiculously early.”

You pecked him on the lips, which soon turned into a full make out session. You hummed and pulled away, your hands on his chest. “No,” you shook your head, “When we come back, however...” you gave him a meaningful, suggestive look.

He smirked and eagerly sped down the hall, to the door, waiting for you.

You followed after him, thoroughly amused, “Slow down, boy. I need to take my greens first.”

Adam huffed impatiently, tapping his foot on the wooden floor whilst waiting for you to finish making and drinking your greens. Because of this, you took extra long, to make him wait. It was fun.

He stared at you suspiciously, tracking your every move as you put the powder in your cup, filled it with water, looked at it, added more and did it again, then brought out your whisk, holding the button for a minute… and longer. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

You glanced at him, feigning confusion, “Doing what on purpose?” You questioned, a small smirk begging to make an appearance.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, turning away to now stare at the door. You shook your head, turned off the whisk and downed the drink - he’d waited long enough.

“Come on then,” you said, walking past him and opening the door, holding it open for him, “Let’s go, let’s run!”

He wiggled his eyebrows when he past you, reminding you of what’s to come when you return.

Rolling your eyes, you smiled at his dorkiness, locking the door and popping the keys in your pocket.

You both raced each other down the stairs, and, of course, you won; though you knew he let you — no one with that amount of leg could lose to you, who in compassion, had basically nothing.

Either way, you still celebrated your victory, jumping up and down, pointing in his face, repeating “I win, I win”.

He watched you fondly, chuckling at your banter. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and brought you closer to him, “Let’s run so that we get home faster, and do some...” he gave you a hungry look, “activities.”

You looked up at him, eyebrows raised, "Alright," then you shoved his arm off you and ran away from him, starting your run.

"Hey!" he called, caught off guard, "That's not fair!"

"Nothing is, baby!" you shouted over your shoulder, continuing your pace.

Eventually, Adam caught up to you, which wasn't very hard.

You were very excited for when you got back home.

[juniperwoodwell]

How ADCU characters would react to a s/o, who admits she's Insecure about her body.

Parings: Adam Sackler x F! Reader, Flip Zimmerman x F! Reader, Phillip Altman x F! Reader, Kylo Ren x F! Reader.

Warning(s): Cursing, 18+ content, Groping, Innuendos.

Word count: 2k

A/n: Sadly I've been feeling a bit down about myself and decided to write about the boy's, honestly I hope reading this helps you as much as it did for me. Enjoy ❤️

Oh, also. The photos were edited by me, I found them all on Pinterest.

Adam Sackler

He wasn't too surprised by the confession when you told him one night; he could tell by how shy you were when you started dating and began trying things out in the bedroom.

He didn't know how to bring it up or console you properly; usually, he'd immediately change the subject when you felt insecure about something. To you, it came off as him being uncaring about your insecurities, but one night you decided to bring it up.

"Hey, Adam.." You said quietly; your back was to him as you lay in his bed.

The question ran through your mind, keeping you awake. His arm wrapped around your front and pulled you against him,

"Yeah, Kid?" his voice was groggy from sleep.

"Why do you always change the subject when you notice me becoming insecure about something?"

 "You seriously want to talk about this now?" He groaned and nuzzled his face into your neck, but you sighed and slipped out of his grasp, sitting on the bed and crossing your legs.

"Yes. It's bugging me, and If I don't know the answer, I won't sleep."

 Another groan escaped his lips, missing your warmth as he sat up, leaning against the wall.

The warm lights from the window illuminated his skin with a golden glow; you sighed and picked at your nails.

 Adam grabbed your hand and quickly pulled you into his lap, tucking his head into your shoulder. His hands slid from your naked thighs to your hips, slipping under your (His) sleep shirt. Your breath hitched when his hands touched your stomach, and you immediately grabbed his wrists.

"Adam...Please don't."

"Why not? Why are you so ashamed of this?" He squeezed your sides for emphasis.

"I-I...I don't know. Maybe it's because, in high school, I desperately tried to be the hot skinny girl?" You joked,

"Really?" Adam asked, obviously not catching on.

"No, Not really. I...I guess it's just because I'm putting so much effort into losing weight, then not seeing any progress. It's always been this way. I either can't gain any weight or lose it. I used to get upset when I got stretch marks on my thighs or when my sides got pudgy."

Adam removed his hands from under your shirt, taking both of yours so he could interlace your fingers. He kissed your shoulder. "That's stupid."

 "Adam...Don't put down my insecurities."

"Why not? They deserve it. They're useless and only make you doubt yourself. I say screw it. Stop caring about how much you hate or dislike your thighs or belly. You're beautiful not by just how you look but by your personality. Though your appearance definitely adds to it."

"How can you say that?" You asked, closing your eyes as he continued to kiss the exposed skin of your neck and shoulders.

"Because I fucking love your body. I love how thick your thighs are, especially when they're trying to crush my head like a watermelon. I love how squishy your belly and sides are. It gives me something to hold onto when I'm railing you into the mattress. Oh, and don't get me started on your ass because I know you're insecure about that too. It's my favorite pillow. Knocks me right out."

His words were accompanied by a squeeze or poke to each part he mentioned. Making sure you knew just how much he loved the things you were insecure about. He realized the subject-changing method wasn't working, so he decided on a more... Physical  approach.

Flip Zimmerman

Flip's reaction was similar to Adams, but he couldn't wrap his head around how such a beautiful, intelligent, and talented woman could be insecure about herself. He wasn't sure how to console you, but he was determined to learn how.

He started by asking questions about your insecurities, always confused by the why and how. It irritated him to know that someone made you feel  this way about yourself. No...Not irritated. It pissed him off beyond belief, but he would never let you know that.

One night, he takes the situation into his own hands, quite literally. You two were preparing to go to the park's fall cookout park.

You stood in front of the mirror trying to fix your dress, you hated wearing them, but you thought you'd try the pretty housewife look. Biting your lip, you flopped your hands to your side, giving up.

"Hey, Stop that." Flip's low voice startled you out of your self-criticizing thoughts.

 "S-stop what, Hun?" You asked, Turning to look at him as he finished buttoning up that lovely red flannel you asked him to wear.

"That whole nitpicking thing you do when you try on new clothing. You look gorgeous in that dress. -actually, you look gorgeous in anything you wear...or don't wear" He smirked, his eyes gleaming mischievously as he walked over to you, taking your hand and turning you to face the mirror again.

He wrapped his arms around your middle and put his chin on top of your head, that smirk growing into a smile as he watched the blush blossom on your cheek.

"You tease" Your voice was small; He always managed to distract you from your negative thoughts

"My pretty little Wife." He moved his head to kiss your cheek. "If you don't like the dress, I can always rip it off your pretty little body and show you just how beautiful you are with and without it."

"Oh shush, we don't have time, Flip."

"Like they're gonna care if we're late,"

 You scoffed. "Late? Honey, With you...We'd miss the whole event"

 You rolled your eyes, seeing Flip smirk in the mirror.

"That wouldn't be so bad?" His hands slid down the sides of your dress, he pulled the skirt up, but your hands grasped his wrist before he could get too far.

"Yes. Yes, it would, Zimmerman." You smiled, meeting his eyes in the reflection.

"If we stayed home, I could show you all the ways to love your body." Your head turned to meet his gaze, that mischevous glint now replaced by a low gaze and lust-blow pupils. You patted his chest,

"As much as I'd love that...And really, I would. I promised the guys at the station I'd bring those cookies you all like."

Flip groaned and kissed your head. "You or those delicious cookies...Toughest decision of my life." Together you laughed, and you pulled away.

 Swaying your hips as you left the bedroom, knowing he'd be watching and following after.

"It better be me, Honey."

 A new wave of confidence found its way into your heart and mind.

"Always, sweetheart."

If Flip could love your body so damn much, So could you.

Phillip Altman

Philips's reaction was very childish, as were most of his reactions to things you tell him. He mostly laughed in disbelief. But he settled down when you put your hands on your hips and bit your lip.

"Holy shit, You're serious." His eyes were wide.

 As I said. Disbelief.

 "Yeah, Pal. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I-I don't know? You always seem so confident in the stuff you wear; you're like the queen of confidence. It radiates off you like the fucking sun. It shows in the way you walk and the way you talk."

You shook your head. "It's not really confidence, Phillip. I just like the clothing I wear."

"Liar, You know you're hot. You have no reason to be insecure. People should be insecure because of you and all your..." he moved his hands around the air, "Hotness."

 "Hotness?"

 "Yeah. You're fucking hot." You rolled your eyes;

 Phillip sighed as he stepped close to you. His hands ghosted up your arms, not touching but close enough to feel the heat. His hands cupped your face and squished your cheeks as he kissed you; he pulled away and gently shook your face

"And you better fucking believe it. Okay? Because If you don't, I'm gonna keep doing this until you do."

He smiled and kissed you again and again, Only stopping when your fingers wrapped around his wrists. "You believe me yet? Little punk?"

You smirked and shook your head, "Nah...I don't think this method is working."

"Oh? Then what will? Huh?  How about this?"

Philip let go of your face and fell to his knees. He stared up into your eyes like a love-sick puppy.

"Oh fuck...Phillip...Get. Up." You laughed;

 He shook his head as his hands grabbed the backs of your thighs, squeezing and kneading them through your jeans.

"Phillip," You groaned; you loved his hands, how big and warm they always felt. He knew it, too.

"Hmm?"

"Stop it." You grabbed a fistful of his hair before he could shove his head between your thighs; he groaned loudly at the feeling.

 "SHit- Do that again." You smirked at his request, tugging his hair again.

"You mean this?" He shut his eyes, groaning again.

 "Yess...Your hands are so fucking addictive." He opened his eyes, meeting your own. "You're so pretty from this angle, baby. If I could, I'd be on my knees for you forever."

Kylo Ren

Kylo was angry when you told him, not at you but at your reasoning behind it. He was furious that a man you put your trust and love in constantly put down your body or called you things that made you feel less than you were.

He was determined to show you just how wrong that bastard was.

He had you pinned against the wall of his bedroom, his lips on your neck, and your arms were held above you by the force while his hands roamed your body,

"If I ever hear you putting yourself down again, I will fuck you senseless until you only believe the words I say." You moaned softly at his words; his hands took the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head; then he unclipped your pretty black bra, sliding the straps off, and watched as it fell to the floor before he lifted his eyes back to yours.

"Do you understand?" You nodded; Kylo gripped your chin firmly, asking the question again.

"Do. You. Understand?"

"Y-Yes, Sir."

Pleased with your response, he let go of your face and took one of your breasts in his grasp; he smirked at you before he leaned down, taking it into his warm mouth, licking and sucking sweetly, eliciting loud, shaky moans from you. He let it fall from his lips with a soft pop. He lifted his head and kissed you deeply, dominating you with his tongue. His hands groped your chest, and he rolled your nipples between his forefingers and thumbs, drinking your moans and whimpers.

 He pulled away from the kiss, releasing your wrists from the force; they draped tiredly over his shoulders. His hands left your breasts, sliding down over your stomach, finding their places on your hips.

"I wish you could love yourself as much as I do." He kissed you, squeezing your hips as he lifted you, you wrapped your legs around his waist, and he carried you to the bed, kissing your neck as he laid you down; his kisses trailed down from there.

When he reached your belly, he smiled up at you, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your pants.

"Guess I will just have to teach you how."

[mrs-gucci]

My Pumpkin

{ adam sackler x female reader }

just an idea I came up with! it's been a very, very long time since I've written for Sackler (like 2 years lol) so apologies if my characterization is a bit off...

warnings. SMUT (18+ ONLY), dirty talk, oral sex with food (m receiving), masturbation w/fingering (f receiving), deepthroating, facial.

word count: 1.13k

★ written for sextember 2023 ★

** CLICKING “KEEP READING” MEANS YOU UNDERSTAND & ACKNOWLEDGE ALL OF THE WARNINGS LISTED ABOVE AND ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK, YOUR CONTENT CONSUMPTION IS YOUR RESPONSIBILITY. MINORS DNI. **

collage by me :)

“Mm, is that pumpkin pie I smell?”

You chuckle as Adam walks into the kitchen eagerly.

“Yes, but not for you,” you say. “I’m baking them for the fall farmers market this weekend.”

He pouts, standing behind you and putting his hands on your hips. “Aww, c’mon kid, can’t I just keep one? I love your pumpkin pie.”

“You can buy it for ten bucks. Friends and family discount.”

He groans.

“If I help you bake, can I get one for free?”

You sigh. “Oh my god, you just won’t quit, will you? Last time you helped me bake, all you did was try to fuck me.”

“But that was last year,” he pouts, squeezing your hips. “Please? I’ll be so so helpful and much less horny this time around. I’ve gotten better.”

“No you haven’t,” you laugh. “But you can help as long as you don’t try to have sex with me every two minutes.”

He nods happily, then washes his hands and puts on his favorite apron of yours, which is frilly and very feminine. You chuckle at the sight, then put him on pie-making duty.

At first, things go well. He’s focused and helpful, and he does a great job making the pies to put into the oven.

But soon enough he starts lingering by you more at the mixer, hands roaming on your hips and ass, and his lips begin pressing kisses to your cheeks or neck every time he goes by.

Your eyebrows raise slightly and you look back at him.

“Hey…I’m serious. I really have to focus on this.”

He nods, trying not to crack a small smile. "Mhm. Right. Focus."

You huff, rolling your eyes as you get back to mixing. Adam sets a timer for the pies in the oven, and as soon as he does that, he slides behind you again.

"Hey," he says, leaning in and kissing your cheek, hands on your hips again. "I'm done with the pies..."

"Great, I have dough ready and more filling--"

"Why don't we take a little break?" he asks, nipping at your earlobe. "You've been working hard all morning, kid."

You pause and look back at him.

"We shouldn't--"

"Let's play a little game," he says, smiling as he takes his apron off, then starts pulling off his t-shirt. "And it's called...lick it up."

He quickly tugs your shirt off, then takes a small scoop of dough and smears it onto the tops of your breasts. He takes a moment to admire them, then bends down to eat and lick the dough off your skin.

"A-Adam," you say, voice slightly shaky. "I need this dough for the pies..."

"We'll only use a little bit, kid." He gently takes another small scoop of dough, then smears it on his bare chest. "Now it's your turn. Go on, use that sweet little tongue of yours."

Your mouth turns up in a slight smirk as you lean in and lick up the dough, looking into his eyes the entire time you do so. He grunts softly, and your hands travel up to rest on his belt buckle, just above where he needs your touch most.

"God, keep going," he groans, leaning in to kiss you deeply, desperately. "Got me so hard."

You chuckle and pull his belt open, then push his jeans down enough to expose his hardening length. You reach over and put one hand in the dough and the other in the pumpkin pie filling, getting a bit of both before getting on your knees.

Sackler watches eagerly as you smooth the dough over his shaft, then smear the pie filling onto his head. You lick your lips just to tease him a bit, then start licking at his tip, eating the pie filling off him.

"Oh my god," he groans, head tipping back as he leans against the cabinets. "Kid, you're killing me here..."

"Mm, patience," you say, smiling. "I wanna eat my dessert first."

Adam growls, hand weaving in your hair while you continue to lick and eat the pie fixings off his hardened shaft. He makes noises the whole time, especially when you wrap your hand around him and stroke him while licking the last of the dough up.

"Suck," he says, hips rocking forward while he pushes your head against him. "Go on."

Your lips wrap around him and begin to suck gently, head bobbing, and Adam lets out a relieved sigh as he finally gets what he has so desperately wanted.

"Good girl, such a good girl," he praises shakily, jaw clenched. "Mmm, fuck, fuck kid...touch y-yourself, finger yourself for me..."

You reach down and move your pajama shorts out of the way, then press two fingers up into your wet hole. Your groan of pleasure vibrates through his cock, and Adam nearly cums at the feeling.

"God! Fuuuuck!"

It's hard to focus on both keeping your rhythm on both him and yourself, so eventually Adam takes over, moving your head and thrusting his hips at the same time.

Your fingers move in and out swiftly, creating pleasure for yourself, which causes you to start making more noises around his shaft. It drives him crazy, it makes him go even faster so that now, he's fucking your face.

Tears swell in your eyes from the deepthroating and gagging on his dick, and this only seems to spur him on, his hips rolling faster against you. You're close to orgasm, overwhelmingly so, and you finger yourself faster.

"Ggghhh! Mmmfffhhhh!"

He moans loudly, holding your mouth on him for a few moments before suddenly pulling away and desperately stroking himself over your face. You close your eyes just as the first rope of his warm seed shoots across your face. He groans and grunts with each spurt, making a mess on your cheeks, nose, mouth, and chin.

You're gasping for breath as you bring yourself to orgasm, moaning huskily as your insides grip and spasm around your digits.

"O-Oh fuck, fuck, Adam..."

Adam smiles slightly as he watches you, caressing your cheek and smearing his cum across your skin.

"Mm, so pretty. You look so fucking good when you've got my cum all over your face, kid."

"Gee, thanks."

You chuckle breathily, pulling your fingers out from between your legs and sucking them into your mouth while wiping the cum from your eyes so you can look up at him. He hums, tucking himself away before grabbing a towel to wipe off your face.

He helps you to your feet, then kisses you deeply, hands on your hips.

"You're the best," he says softly, kissing you again and again. "Best girlfriend ever. My pumpkin. I love you."

You smile just as the timer for the pies goes off, pulling him in for one more kiss.

"I love you too, Adam."

****

sextember taglist: @rynwritesstuff @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman

if you'd like to be tagged in future sextember works, please let me know via comment on this post or the original sextember post!

[thetorturerwrites]

Lylas

Summ: Adam Sackler was never one for beating around the bush, but this level of blunt was beyond comprehension - even for him.

Notes: Purely self-indulgent filth. There will probably be other parts to this because I cannot get it out of my head, but I have no set time frame for it. Also, I do not apologize for the extraneous world-building in my smut. That's just how I roll... (Also also, some of this might be in response to the fact that not everything has to be squirting...)

~

“You should let me fuck you.”

The cavalier way he said such a bizarre thing made you short circuit. Astonished, you stopped mid-shoelace-tie and stared up at him. Adam Sackler was never one for beating around the bush, but this level of blunt was beyond comprehension - even for him.

“What?! Why?”

He grinned down at you because, with you right there on the ottoman, you sat eye level with his dick. With that cheshire grin turned on you, you unexpectedly forgot how to breathe. You’d never looked at Adam that way before, but with one question, he upended your world view. Adam was lethally beautiful, and he knew it. Shaggy black hair swept back and forth over his dark eyes to match his moods - off to the right for mischievous, low over the brow for brooding. It was easy to admit he was a looker, but you’d never considered him to be anything beyond that. A big, glaring red flag permanently hung over his head since the day he walked into your house. Now, though…

He certainly watched, and enjoyed, the struggle going on in your mind and not-so-casually slid both hands smoothly, purposefully into the pockets of those well-worn, low slung, faded blue jeans and leaned his hips forward at you. Of course you looked. Who wouldn’t? Catching yourself, you forced your eyes up to his green t-shirt, but that wasn’t much help because it fit him offensively well. Painted on would be an understatement. Adam was all wide shoulders and shelf-like pecs, and suddenly, you understood his sex appeal. Forcing your face into a placid mask, you waved him off and bent to finish tying your damn shoe. Time to get the fuck out of this room.

You forgot, however, that you’d asked him a question.

“One, you bring home shitty dudes. Two, I don’t want to date. After that last bullshit…”

The last bullshit being the most recent round of Hannah and Jessa, both idiot girls who ran roughshod over Adam and his tender heart. On more than one occasion, you’d seen fit to murder one right after the other, but nobody could tell Adam anything. He was a right pain in the ass and a whole pervert, but he was also kind and doting, a thing those two heifers took advantage of too often. He was also stubborn to a fault, and when he believed a thing, or when he wanted something, he would pursue it 100%. He’d believed in them, but even he had to admit they were trash in the end.

“... this would be the perfect solution.” You realized he’d not stopped talking while you took that mental break, and you struggled to focus. “One stop shop.”

Shoe finally situated, you stood, pretending not to be acutely aware of the way he watched you smooth the wrinkles from your plum blouse and rub the wrinkles out of the thighs of your pants. Masquerading as confident, you jabbed at the air between you.

“First? Rude.” Although, internally you admitted you brought home shitty dudes. They never seemed shitty until they walked out the door, leaving you unsatisfied and annoyed. All dudes were shitty, though, weren’t they? There was no earthly reason to believe Adam was any better despite how much he believed himself superior.

“Second? Jim and Carly would shit kittens.”

Jim and Carly were your parents - his mom and your dad, specifically. They met in Tahoe on a Friday and were married by the following Sunday. Secretly, you believed Carly was in it for the money because Jim was - no two ways about it - loaded, but she genuinely seemed to love your dad. After all the heartache he’d endured, you found you couldn’t begrudge him that happiness, even if it made your teeth itch. In a blur, the Sacklers moved into Jim’s mansion on the hill, filling it with more noise than either of you could remember. With internships, college, and the damn economy, it made sense for everyone to live at home; so, you all had to learn to live together.

Well, sort of. Jim and Carly never stayed home long enough to get used to anybody, really. Jetsetters, they called themselves, which left the rest of the household free rein.

At the mention of your part-time parents, Adam took a step forward, brow piqued, lips pursed.

“You in the habit of sharing all the naughty details about your love life with dear old daddy, baby sister?”

He only called you that when he wanted to rile you up or when he wanted something - both true in this case.

“Me?” You laughed, a full-on, hold your belly laugh. “Ha! You’re not exactly shy about the vast number of “dirty sluts” (you even treated him to finger quotes) you’ve found in the area, Sackler. You don’t need to tell us anything about your love life, you shit, because everybody already knows!”

Wiping delighted tears from your eyes, you shook your head. It really was too absurd.

“No, this is… too weird, and not for nothing, it's kind of creepy. I promise you’ll find shiny new sluts to fuck just around the corner at what’s-her-face’s block party. But please, wait five minutes so I can vacate the premises before you do whatever it is you do.”

~

Adam loved it when you laughed. He spent an inordinate amount of time trying to make you laugh because your eyes sparkled in such a pretty way, and your face softened all over. To put it plainly, you lit up from the inside. After Hannah’s crazy and Jessa’s perpetual moodiness, he simply enjoyed watching you laugh because it was easy to get you to do it. Easygoing and whip smart, he found he enjoyed the mental sparring with you because you could keep up, and you weren’t so fucking dramatic. 

That started everything.

Soon enough, he couldn’t get you - or your laugh - out of his head. Finding out about all the other faces and noises you made infected his brain. Now, when you laughed, his eyes trailed away from your face to the rest of your body because he wanted to see the effect of that laugh all over you. The bob of your breasts when he got you particularly good, the way you often held your waist and huffed at him, drawing attention to your generous hips - the details of you affected him far more than they should have and made him want to affect you just as much. 

If he was completely honest, he didn’t give a single shit if Jim or Carly ever found out. He was pretty sure he still wouldn’t give a shit if your relationship was by blood rather than marriage. He was going to fuck you. It was only a matter of time.

“Those are good reasons, baby sister, but that’s not a no…”

~

The problem was that Adam was right.

“Hey, uh..” The shitty dude you’d escorted to your front door turned at the threshold, beet red and stammering. “I’ll call you, yeah?”

You didn’t even remember his name.

“Sure. Yeah. Whenever?”

Probably more abruptly than you should have, you shut the door in his face and then let your forehead fall against it with a loud thud. You threw your fists in the air, irritated and crabby. Meeting him was nice. The party was pleasant; the wine flowed freely. His kisses tasted like candy, and the way he nibbled your neck was delightful.

After the banter, the ride home, and the bourbon, however, Rick… Robin?... Roger? Yes, Roger was all talk and no substance. His bed-game was decidedly lacking. All he’d accomplished was a nice warm-up, whiskey dick, and no grand finale for you. 

“It's. -thunk- Not. -thunk- That. -thunk- Hard!”

“Whatcha’up to, kid?”

You shrieked, jumped a foot off the floor, and spun with fists raised to knock the threat out, in theory at least.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Sackler. You scared the shit out of me.”

Rubbing at your sternum to calm the racing of your heart, you slumped back against the door. You concentrated so hard on regulating your breathing that you didn’t hear him shuffle closer. Nor did you notice him leaning over you, his thick left arm braced on the door above your head, until his crooked index finger lifted your chin. Only then did the alarm bells ring because damn that was a sexy move. And Christ on a cracker he smelled good - salt from the ocean blended with caramel spice. It made your mouth water. 

“Feel like now’s the time for I told you so,” he quipped, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Tell you what…” The arm that was overhead slithered over your torso, settling a good bit of his weight across your shoulders. “I’ll do this, and you can tell people I forced you.”

He winked, and a second later, his warm hand slid into your DIY sleep shorts. You’d worn the ugly cut-off sweatpants pair to dissuade your date from lingering. Now, you wished you’d found an actual pair of pants because the shorts only gave away how traitorous your cunt was. Skillfully, Adam’s middle finger found the groove between your tacky labia, using the residual (barely) slickness from your failed attempt at sexy times with… Rufus? Ryan? Regardless of his name, his touches were clumsy compared to this. Adam kept an even pace and the exact right amount of pressure, sliding in the perfect way to coerce more wetness from your entrance and carry it back to your swollen clit.

You croaked, straight up sounded like you swallowed a frog because as his fingers defiled you south of the border, his stare wrecked you up north. His beautiful brown eyes were whiskey warm tonight, softened at the edges but intently focused upon you. You could get drunk on those kinds of eyes. If he gazed at all his conquests like this - as though nothing else mattered - you understood the pull. It moved, his stare, from your eyes to your mouth and back. You nearly begged him to kiss you but this was already so strange, so taboo. 

And yet… and yet…

~

He’d never been so fucking pleased to be right in his life.

All he had to do was get you there, and he’d win the argument. Roman, a guy he met on the track, was manufactured to be an idiot and would never figure out how to fuck right, even if his life hung in the balance. How he'd managed to even meet you was beyond understanding. 

Adam, however, had been fucking since he was 14, and he’d long since learned all the magic buttons. It was the one good thing to have come from his years struggling with sobriety. Replacing alcohol with sex taught him a lifetime’s worth of skills. Skills he now used to pull another squeak from your pouty mouth. Each time the pad of his finger caught your hood, the reluctant peep you made shot straight to his dick. He wasn’t sure if he would manage to not fuck you tonight, but he reminded himself that he had to play the long game.

For a solid 30 seconds, he rubbed only at your clit, back and forth, back and forth. He set a very specific rhythm that had you twisting beneath him deliciously. Your yelping grew louder and louder until one in particular cracked, and that was his cue.

“Hold my shoulder.” He nudged your nose with his to get your attention and nodded when both of your hands came up to rest on his chest and biceps. “That’s it.”

He couldn’t help himself from licking at the way your mouth popped open when he slid his fingers inside of you. The way the corners turned up was too tantalizing to ignore.

~

Mother Mary of God… He was inside you. Granted, it was only his fingers, but they belonged to your step-brother. Your face burned, but the hundred objections your brain conjured died at the back of your tongue because fuck, they were good. Two fingers, middle and ring, had you whining like a schoolgirl as he carefully, deliberately explored you. He wasn’t awkward about it like every other dude who’d been in your pants. He didn’t stab at your cunt as though he’d miraculously grown a jackhammer for a hand.

Nope. He took his time, slow and steady. He noted the angles and ridges that made you moan. And when he found that perfect spot, the spot that made you curse far louder than you intended, he stayed right there. There was no in and out anymore, no poking or prodding. Once he found it, his touch shifted from up/down and in/out to side to side. You came unfuckingglued. All ten fingers dug into hard flesh. You all but leapt into his arms as he rubbed at your tight bundle of electric nerves from the inside. And the more you responded, the faster he went.

“There’s nobody here, kid. Let’s hear it.”

You couldn’t have swallowed the cries for every dollar your dad invested in this huge-ass house. Your hips bucked against Adam’s expert manhandling, chasing that elusive sort of orgasm you can only get from someone else. Closer and closer it crept. Tighter and tighter you wound. From you knew not where, you found your voice, though it was scratchy and broken.

“D-don’t stop un-until I sh-sh-shake.”

His dark brow lifted, but he didn’t argue. It was a thing hardly anybody knew (because hardly anybody could fucking deliver), but a great orgasm, a really fantastic one, made you shake. Not tremble. Not wiggle. A full-body, clack your teeth kind of shake. On another day, you’d have been embarrassed to tell him that, but you watched determination change his face from amused and entertained to keenly interested. His efforts inside your cunt multiplied until you went rigid. He wanted to see it, clearly, but more than that, you wanted it, salivated for it. Right here on the cusp, you didn’t care that it would happen at his hands.

With your head tipped back, eyes screwed shut, and mouth agape, that hot-wet bud of ecstasy finally bloomed, and you wailed. It was electric, shooting sparks into your fingertips, but somehow, in the very middle of it, both of your hands wrapped around his wrist on the off chance he’d stop right at the best part, which they all did, but Adam only chuckled and carried right on fucking you stupid with nothing but two fingers.

Vulgar sounds squelched out around his fingers to accompany the vulgar things he whispered in your ear. Dirty girl with your pants around your ankles. Are you always this easy? Who’s the best big brother ever? Your pussy gushed; your ears rang. You rode his fingers like a champion, reveling in the quake and the rag-doll rattling of your insides.

The whole thing was indecent, fit for film, really.

~

Don’t fuck this up. Don’t fuck this up. You cannot fuck her tonight. Do not fuck this up.

Long game. Long game. Long game.

You fell back against the door, wincing when he extricated his fingers. He wanted to wrap himself around you and keep pushing, but he held back. This was a delicate operation, and straying too much to either side would fuck it all up. You’d either blow up at him and feel like he actually assaulted you, or you’d never speak to him again. Neither was a winning scenario. Tamping down his near-manic need to taste you, he gently traced your lips with his gummy fingers until you opened your eyes.

“That was some show, kid.”

Confusion crinkled the corners of your eyes, and he nuzzled your chin, matching the fire in your cheek with his own. He understood. His proposal wasn’t normal, and how much you’d obviously enjoyed it probably had you all up in your feelings. Hovering his mouth above yours, so close he could feel your breath, he fought himself over whether you needed to be kissed.

But when you lifted ever so slightly onto your toes, seeking it out, he clenched his jaw hard and fought the urge to fuck you right here on the floor. Somehow, he kept his shit together, and he thought certainly he deserved a goddamn medal for valor. He pushed away and veered you towards the stairs.

“Time to go, little sister. It’s past your bedtime.”

~

For a week, Adam cornered you at least once a day to stuff your pussy full of his thick fingers and make you beg. After that first time, he knew exactly how to play you, and he delighted in drawing it out until you pleaded for him to make you cum. You’d mistakenly said his name during your second encounter, and now, he wouldn’t come anywhere near the things that made you shake without hearing it.

You never considered yourself the begging type, but it turns out that when someone knows precisely the way to touch you and the exact right way to make you scream as you climax, begging becomes much more palatable. It also turns out that whether Jim and Carly were home didn’t make a single bit of difference because when Adam texted you his offer from across the kitchen table, you ran after him like the house was on fire.

That’s how you wound up here, sitting on the edge of Adam’s desk, naked as the day you were born, legs spread obscenely wide and panties crammed in your mouth to keep you muffled if not quiet. With one hand deftly driving into your messy cunt and one wrapped around your hip to coax it into a rocking motion, he all but pulverized your sanity. Up was down, left was right, and “brother” was just another fucking word. As you inched higher and higher up climax mountain, you rationalized you weren’t really doing anything wrong. He’d never fucked you in any other way than this. He wasn’t a real brother, either. There was nothing wrong with a little fun, right? Sure, it was strange, but when he… fuck when he hit that spot right… right there… your brain went…

“You should let me fuck you,” he murmured against your throat, a throwback to what started all this.

It crackled in your prefrontal cortex, and you pushed at his bare chest, babbling incoherently because part of you thought it was the worst idea ever, and part of you thought it would be the best fucking thing in the history of ever. They argued with each other behind your eyes. That was too far. Wasn’t it? But it would feel so good. You couldn’t, possibly. Right? Sure, you could. Twice on Sunday, even. Surely, he had plenty of other options. Didn’t he? Who fucking cares?

“Just a little, kid. I’ve made it good for you, yeah? Just the tip.”

Your thoughts on the matter were irrelevant, it seemed, because the clink of his buckle launched you into a panic. You tried to escape his grip by leaning back, but he clenched his arm around your back, making escape impossible. Struggling to keep calm, you realized it felt ridiculous and performative to panic because you splayed across his desk like you were posing for his calendar. You gawked at him, eyes shining with something you couldn’t quite pin down because processing that your step-brother was about to put any part of his dick inside you was overwhelming. This was too much, too forbidden.

“Now, don’t look at me like that.” He rubbed soothing circles into your ribcage and stepped in. You felt the weight of a cock you’d never seen laying against your swollen pussy, eliciting a low groan. “Only for a minute. Stay right there; don’t move.”

And then, there it was. The round head of Adam’s cock slowly breached your body’s sticky barrier and scrambled your senses. Tears formed. Your chest heaved - because you wanted him to ravage you, to fuck you dumb and blind, but you just couldn’t. Right?

Maybe your inner monologue wasn’t so silent. Or maybe he read your mind. Something changed, though, from “just the tip” to an iron grip and his right hand over your gagged mouth as he snapped his hips and slid all the way home.

~

Adam expected you to shout, to have an outright tantrum and draw far too much attention to the situation. Instead, you shuddered against him the way you did when you came all over his fingers - not as hard but definitely unmistakable.

“That’s it. S’good cock, isn’t it? Told you you’d like it.”

Testing the waters, he withdrew about halfway and slowly pushed in again, absolutely loving the way you moaned in response. He’d nearly cum in his pants when you let him shove your panties into your mouth, and whenever he looked at you still gritting your teeth into them, his dick throbbed. With no firm objection, he unwound from his caging stance and took proper hold of your perfect, meaty ass. He scooted you closer to the edge of his desk, damn near falling off, so he could get his demanding dick inside you from tip to root right fucking now.

~

Adam’s cock was fat. There was no other way to describe it. He filled you up so completely you couldn’t even blink. The slide of his girth against your insides was dizzyingly good, and all you could do was cling to his shoulders.

And when he started talking? That dirty way with that sexy-ass voice?

It fucked you all the way up.

The things he said to you, too, differed from the things you’d heard him say to his hook-ups. They were filthy sluts, not even worthy to come over in the daylight, just a hole for him to get off to. You were his dirty little sister, though, weren’t you? Too cock-drunk to even say no to big brother. You loved his fat cock, didn’t you? You’d let him fuck you whenever he wanted, wouldn’t you?

You were positively, expertly, no two ways about it done for.

Like a dick-addled fool, you nodded along with all of it. You’d say whatever he wanted as long as he kept packing more and more of his missile cock into your aching cunt. Maybe that’s what you wanted - to be reduced to an object, a fuckdoll sister he’d turn inside out at his whim with no recourse to say no. When that idea took hold, you vibrated against him. You generally didn’t orgasm from penetration alone, but by sheer size, Adam rubbed at every single one of your spongy triggers with each stroke. Coupled with the downright pornographic thoughts in your fucked-out head, you whined like a petulant child, overcome by the effort it took to keep quiet, to keep yourself coherent.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

Your eyes flew open, tracking the voice to its owner, who leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over a very familiar broad chest. You burned from ears to toes, knowing this looked exactly like what it was, and there was no pretending it was anything else. Even worse, your deviant fantasy abruptly shifted to include these extra details - wind-faded jeans, threadbare gray cotton shirt bleached by the sun, and a brush of red across a nose and cheekbones matching those you'd looked up at for days. He was a carbon copy of the man currently demolishing your boundaries by burying himself to the hilt in your body.

Ben, Adam’s twin, the wayward son, had finally home from his camping trip to the desert.

~

Adam nestled his face in your neck to hide his smugness. He knew his brother would be home today, and he timed everything around the fact Ben said he’d be here early afternoon. Edging you was a cake-walk. He’d been practicing all week, and when he saw the text asking if he needed anything from their favorite pizza place, he knew how much time he had to get you right and ready so Ben would find you well and truly empty-headed and sexed out. 

Ben wasn’t sold on having you. He half liked the idea, but he thought it was more trouble than it would be worth. More than once, though, Adam caught him lazily stroking himself while watching you run down the beach or sunbathe by the pool. It would only take a nudge to get his brother fully invested. Adam played the moment, and specifically you, perfectly, and holy shit if this wasn’t one for the books. You and your round eyes, searching for an explanation that would make sense of why he was balls deep in your tight cunt on a Saturday afternoon.

“Someone’s been a bad girl,” he said to his brother, licking a stripe across your thundering pulse. “What do you think, bad girl, wanna show Ben how you shake?”

~

You sobbed. There was nothing for it because Adam’s cock never stopped. His brother’s presence in the room didn’t faze him one bit, and it took a full minute for you to realize it was some of that twin bullshit you were always on them about. Of course they’d seen each other fucking. They probably fucked lots of people together. You bristled with humiliation because it was obvious Adam set this up, but your pussy, smart bitch, clutched at his every thrust, considerably more so when he asked you such a depraved thing.

Meeker than you intended, you nodded because yes, you did, in fact, want to show Ben how you came. 

Adam shifted his weight, pulling out of your sloppy cunt for only the time it took to put your feet on the floor and turn you to face Ben. He hummed as he grabbed your hips, pulled you back against his body, and let his cock find his target. Your head dropped on a moan as he filled you back up because it was even better this way. You had surer footing, could brace yourself on the desk’s corner, and didn’t have to concentrate on not falling. Using fistfuls of your hips as leverage, Adam crashed into you, sending jolts throughout your already overstimulated body. It was glorious.

And then, Ben’s boots came into your line of sight, followed swiftly by his muscular hand around your throat, silver rings cool against your heated flesh. You tracked beauty mark to beauty mark, wondering when the constellations kissed his cheeks. You should have been mortified. Ben finding you here with Adam should have struck you dead there and then, but it only emboldened you because his eyes weren’t full of judgment. He wasn’t disgusted by what he saw. His honey-gold gaze, laced with hunger, burned into you possessively. He held you by the neck, the strength of his grip waxing and waning in time to your heartbeat, while his brother plowed you from behind. When his voice wiggled its way into your ear, your knees nearly buckled. Adam’s was clear but devious, which made his filthy quips more surprising because they were hard to expect. Ben talked very little. His voice, which you didn’t truly appreciate until this moment, was rough and low, like his very voice box was calloused.

“Is this the first time he’s fucked you?”

You whimpered, eyes drifting shut until you felt a rough tap at your cheek. His face, all furrowed brows and licked lips, telegraphed that next time, he’d slap you proper. Pushing yourself to stare straight into his eyes - it was like looking into the sun - you nodded again, feeling every bit of your desire dribble down your legs because one brother was great, but two was immaculate.

“Is this the last time he’ll fuck you?”

Your guts clenched, and you reached out to stabilize yourself by laying both hands on Ben’s chest, which you already understood was only because he allowed it. Without a second thought, eager even, you shook your head. You’d reached the point where you’d let him - no them - do whatever they wanted whenever they wanted it because holy goddamn.

Adam chose this moment to increase the speed with which he fucked you into oblivion. His hips slapped against yours, hands clamping down onto your shoulders for better leverage. Your eyes crossed, and you nearly swallowed your gag. With one hand on Ben, you reached up to grip Adam’s fingers, anchoring yourself between the two of them. They were your literal rock and a hard place, and they worked in tandem to drive you thoroughly crazy. Ben’s hand slipped between your legs, fingers finding your slippery clit. You howled, spine waking up to tingle and dance. 

“Fuck, there it is,” Adam groaned behind you. 

What else could you do but give him what he wanted?

~

His brother had told him about the way you shook when you orgasmed, and he really had thought nothing of it. Most people did that, didn’t they? If you did the job right, there was always a tremor in the legs, a wobble in the walk.

Ben was not prepared for the way you shook when you came.

For a second, he thought you were about to have a seizure, but he watched your face smooth out in pleasure, watched your lips turn up at the very corners, and he was flat out shocked by what he’d just witnessed. 

You loved it. Loved being fucked. Loved coming so undone your mind stopped working. For him, it was the way you smiled as you came. The shaking was stunning, of course, but nobody he’d ever fucked before had goddamn smiled - beamed! - through their climax. It was truly the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

And then he grinned like the devil himself because fucking hell…

“You’re fucked, little sister. You know that?” 

He scooped some of your slick onto his finger and popped it in his mouth. Shit, you even tasted like candy.

“Well and truly fucked.”

[pxgeturner]

adam sackler is such a goof.

i think any time you’re boated or are like really really full, adam pretends ur pregnant and won’t stop touching ur belly

“i’m so excited to let this little guy out into the world together, peaches. we’re gonna be awesome parents”

he leans so far into the bit, people around you start to congratulate you. and you don’t know how to explain that you’re not pregnant, your boyfriend is just a weirdo.

and one time you did say something, but before the person has time to react, he goes:

“what do you mean, but there was a pregnancy test that was positive !” you take one once a month just in case and he damn well knows it was negative. “and you got that cute little blanket and tiny socks the other day.” those were for your niece, who was turning one year old.

and now you look crazy so you just walk away from the two of them but adam follows you with a “shnookums! wait up! don’t strain yourself! it’s bad for the baby!”

[c0ffinshit]

Our Own Meet-Cute (Adam Sackler x Reader)

A/N: i had the best time writing this and i hope y’all enjoy as much as i did. warning, its cheesy AND corny as hell. sidenote, i have a side project i’m working on that’s a bit different... but you’ll love it (trust me)

word count: 1,145

warnings:  fluff, drunk fun, reader is a huge drunk bitch, adam is giving daddy vibes

Last night, Jesus, what could I say without self-censoring myself? I went out again, unsurprisingly, with a few of my girlfriends. Maybe the quarantine was starting to get to me. Honestly, I was beginning to go a little stir-crazy after having to do work on a computer. It's worse when you know that my boyfriend of five years broke up with me before I went out with my friends. And on Valentine’s Day, too, he sent me a texting saying that we needed to break up because I wanted to meet his parents. Sure, Hannah tried to comfort me as I basically whined and bitched the whole night. But she failed at that as I would cry harder into my drink, whaling about how much I would miss him. We left the club after about twenty minutes of being in there. I was having the worst night of my life, and then Hannah told me she had the perfect guy for me as my rebound.

"Who do I look like, Scott motherfucking Pilgrim?" I stepped over my own feet as we walked to what I assumed was his apartment. "I don’t need some stupid younger guy to suck my clit to make me feel better. I want a man, Hannah."

"Jesus, you are drunk." She said under her breath as she helped me up some stairs.

I will say this: I wasn’t wrong in saying what I wanted. Boyfriends and girlfriends would come, go, and some never even returned. I couldn’t tell if it was a ‘me’ problem or a ‘them’ issue. I may be a self-centered dipshit, but at least I can admit that. Hannah, bless her heart, continued to help me up the stairs and onto the man's front door. She knocks on the door gently, still propping me up with her body.

"Is this the man of my dream’s front door? It looks like shit-" I begin to bitch again when I finally get a glim of the man.

"Hey, Hannah." The man said, his forearm resting against the door frame. His dark hair fell neatly on his broad shoulders. He loomed over us much like a redwood tree in a forest would. Hannah gave him a look, I couldn’t tell what it was trying to say, but I knew it was like: Take care of her, or I will cut you.

The man takes me in, wrapping my arm behind his neck. We walk into his apartment, well he dragged me, but that’s close to walking. He threw me into his bed and walked into his kitchen.

"And who are you, kind stranger?" I slurred out, my body squirming around on his bed.

The man did not reply. I thought to yell out my question again, but the softness of his bed kept me distracted. It smelled of old sweat, which felt oddly comforting. The man walks back into the room. As he walked back in, I noticed a bottle of Gatorade in his claw hand. I begin to sit up, but I fumble slightly.

"Hey, kid… it's the only Gatorade I have. So, drink up." He said in a soft, parental-like voice.

He hands me the blue Gatorade, electric blue. I take it gingerly, praying that he won’t drug me.

"I’m Adam." Adam said, sitting down next to me. That name… rings a bell.

"Aren’t you that guy Hannah’s  fucking?" I said bluntly, struggling to open the cap in my drunken state.

Surprisingly, Adam isn’t phased by my question and replies: "Yeah, how did you know? Are you and her friends or something?"

I nod, and Adam takes the bottle from my hands, opening it for me.

"I could’ve done it myself." I mumble to myself.

I silently drank the Gatorade as Adam’s eyes encouraged me to keep going. Adam’s body had this energy to it. I couldn’t explain it.

"Does Hannah talk about me often with you? I don’t care if she does, but I’m curious."

Hannah, in my drunken state of mind, was annoying. She was overbearing and cared more about how she felt in a given situation instead of the other people affected. And Hannah was never home, even when Hannah told us that she would be. But Hannah is my best friend. At least, I thought she was my best friend. I couldn’t stand her because she would always be out with Adam or at work. But that night, I understood why.

"Yeah. I mean, not a lot, but enough."

Adam places his hand near mine. He was taking an interest in me. At least, that is what I thought. Maybe he was trying to sober me up so he could sleep with me. From what Hannah told me, that wouldn’t be a shocker. I move my pinky slightly, slowly moving to his claw. Maybe this was our moment, our own meet cute. I didn’t have to drop anything either; all I had to do was get drunk and go out with a friend I hated. Adam felt nice to be around.

"A part of me wants to stay like this… just us." I thought aloud.

Adam looked at me for what felt like the first time. It didn’t feel forced or sappy; it felt like us in a moment together.

"Why do you say that?" He said, replying to my thought.

"I don’t know," I snapped, "it just feels right. It feels fucking good."

He looks back to the floor, debating whether or not to get up from his seat on the bed.

"Don’t," I whispered.

My body started to sober up, thinking a lot clearer. I knew that Hannah must’ve not been thinking clearly. She just wanted to drop me off. So she could hang out with her other friends. I wanted to feel betrayed and upset, but I couldn’t help but enjoy my time with him. Sure, we haven’t spoken with each other, but something drew me to him.

"Do you want to hear something?" Adam asked, looking back over at me.

Next, I did something that I’m not quite sure I regret. It happened so quickly that the moment it was over, neither of us didn’t have time to react to it. I got closer to Adam and suddenly gained confidence that only drunk me had.

"Yeah." I whisper, trying to be seductive.

Adam didn’t seem to pick up on my seduction. Looking at me blankly, he cocked his head to the side.

"Okay, this lady who stays outside my apartment—Hannah might have seen her when dragging you in. She’s the one with the long black hair and the purse. So the other day-"

He went on like that for fifteen minutes. The story wasn’t funny or exciting, but his speaking made it sound like the most vivid story. It felt like I could listen to him for hours. But I didn’t.

[a-million-usernames]

And Then You

Warnings: Babies, Hospitals, Newborn Children Word Count: 741 As always, you can find this over on AO3.

Bright fluorescent bulbs overhead shine down to cast a near unbearable white glow, the electricity that runs through their wires a god awful sound that only seems to get worse by the second. Aren’t these lights too bright? Isn’t that sound too loud? These are just some of the many thoughts that are floating through Sackler’s head as he looks out through the clear glass panel that separates him from his newborn son.

A hand lifts to suppress a frustrated growl that bubbles up to the surface as his head shakes from side to side briefly. God, he feels so restless , like he can’t just stand still no matter how hard he tries. He supposes that things could be worse. Since standing here at the exterior of the nursery peering past the glass to where his son lies among a row of others who have just been born as well, he’s heard stories of others who have not experienced the good fortune that he has. Or you, for that matter and…

That’s why the baby is here, after all, he knows: so you can get some much needed rest after a lengthy nineteen hours of labor. And, god, what an exhausting nineteen hours it’s been. He’s read all of the books, watched as many of the videos as he can—hell, he’d even asked Caroline what Sample’s birth had been like all in an attempt to be ready for the big day, but none of the anecdotal information could have possibly prepared him for what he’d bore witness to. There were tears of frustration and anger, plenty of ones born out of happiness too; screams to be had both by you and your son and, Sackler thinks, he can still feel the impact of your hand squeezing his in a vice-like grip.

He turns momentarily, casting a glance over his shoulder down the long, brightly lit hallway leading to where you are. He hopes that, much like his son, you too are sleeping peacefully now that the hardest part is over.

“First time?”

Sackler turns his head to look over at the man who stands at an equal height beside him. Adam’s brows crease briefly, wondering to himself if he’d really been looking away for so long that he hadn’t noticed the stranger’s presence from the moment he’d walked up beside him. Finally, Sackler nods in affirmation. The man besides him smiles and nods once as if signaling to himself that he’d known all along.

“Can always tell a first time dad by the look of fear in their eyes,” he jokes with a chuckle.

Sackler laughs, albeit a bit uneasily, in response. “Guess it’s safe to say that it’s not yours then.”

“You’d be guessing right.” Adam watches as the man folds his arms across his chest and redirects his gaze back through the glass pane. “Everyone always says it gets easier after your first and I guess that’s true to some extent, but…” The stranger huffs out a dry laugh to accompany the brief shake of his head. “This is my third and I still don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. Like to think I’m doing my best though.”

Sackler hums in acknowledgement of the man’s words but finds that he’s coming up short with just what to say to him at the moment. What does he know anyway? It’s like he said, this is his first and if anyone here falls into the ‘ don’t know what the fuck I’m doing ’ category, it’s him.

“I’m Charlie, by the way.” The abrupt shift in conversation pulls Sackler from his thoughts only to find that the man has turned back to face him once again, a hand extended outward in a proper greeting.

After a quick pause, Sackler reaches forward and takes the man’s hand in his own, giving it a swift but firm shake. “Adam.”

“That’s all you can really do, Adam: your best.”

Sackler gives Charlie a single nod of understanding, the unease that had long since settled into the pit of his stomach the moment you’d given birth to your son waning just enough now that he feels like he can finally breathe. Maybe this won’t be so terrible after all , he decides as he looks back into the nursery to where his son lies, resting peacefully. He has you, after all, and with you at his side he knows that he’s capable of just about anything.

[jynzandtonic]

12 Days of Fluffmas — Day 8: First Christmas as a Family

Adam Sackler x Fem Reader

Part of the Baby Daddy Sackler AU and What to Expect fic.

Adam never used to be big on Christmas. He’s not close with his family, so Christmas was usually a day he’d spend alone or with a random collection of friends. He didn’t have anything against the holiday; it just wasn’t much fun for him.

But Christmas with you and a one-year-old? Now that is seriously fun.

Little Sage giggles happily as she pulls a kangaroo plushie from her stocking and hugs it to her chest. Adam had loved every second of picking out presents for her and decorating the apartment, even if she’d taken to pulling every ornament off the tree that she could reach. And this Christmas morning, there’s a pile of gifts under the tree waiting for her.

She’s almost as excited about unwrapping the presents as she is with what’s beneath all the paper and bows: a rainbow stacking ring toy, a wire maze with colorful blocks, a rocking horse that Adam made himself, and a toy car that she can sit in. She shrieks with joy as Adam wheels her around the apartment in the little car, making sound effects when he skids her around corners. 

After she’s all played out, Adam snuggles up with her on the couch, feeding her slices of Christmas orange and pieces of gingerbread cookies. Her eyelids finally start to droop from all the morning excitement and he carries her back to the nursery to put her down for a midday nap. When he returns to the living room, he finds you waiting with a small wrapped box.

“It’s your Christmas present,” you say, offering up the gift.

Grinning, he takes it from your hands and tears away the wrapping paper. He opens the lid slowly and his face goes slack at what he finds inside.

It’s a positive pregnancy test.

“Are you really?” he asks, face painted with awe.

You nod, and he immediately pulls you into his arms, crushing your body to his. His eyes are shining with wetness as he pulls back to look at you.

“Merry Christmas, love,” you whisper, a smile growing on your face. “Here we go again.”

[weareallstoriesintheend]

Little rituals // Pinky promises with Sackler

Aka pinky size kink

-the last anon you smooched

Oh I wonder who this could be 😉

I made it cute so sorry for the lack of kink lol

Pinky Promise (Adam Sackler x Reader)

“You never promise!” he exclaimed, paddle-size hands flapping around in indignation. Adam had been your roommate for two years and not once had you promised him anything, and that fact drove him crazy. You were precious about your promises and honestly his mischievousness unnerved you on the best of days, so you teased him about it and dangled it in front of him like a carrot for a rabbit.

Your laughter only made him more exasperated, “The thought of you holding me to something is… terrifying.”

You mocked a shudder and he huffed before storming off into the bathroom. The door rattled the frame behind him, “One day!” he shouted, the sound muffled through the wood of the door.

Rolling your eyes, you went back to cooking dinner, “In your dreams Sackler!”

-----------

His eyes zeroed in on you, squinting suspiciously, “Seriously kid, what the fuck is up with you and promises?”

He waved an accusatory and expectant pinky finger in your face; you were sitting on the sofa trying to read your book and he was hunched in the opposite corner like a gargoyle. He’d been trying all weekend to get you to agree to something, thrusting his over-sized pinky at you for every opportunity. Would you promise to buy him a pizza later? Or take a shower cause you apparently ‘stink’? Or would you promise to marry and repopulate the earth with him if you were the last two people on earth?

“I don’t promise lightly Sackler, what can I say?” Once again you shrugged, the annoyance on his face was making you more stubborn and far more amused.

-----------

 It was the first time you’d seen him cry. His sister had been in town.

You knew family stress got to him, honestly the more you heard about them the more you understand why he was a little…. out there.

All you did was sit and listen; you’d never seen him like this so mostly your silence was just the result of being dumbstruck. There was something so painful about the tone of his voice, like years of tiredness piled on top of him in one dinner with his sister and he had boiled over.

There had been yelling, apparently, some threats that set Adams teeth on edge and then he’d come home.

“I’m better off on my own, crazy fuckin’ family don’t deserve me anyway,” he ranted, harshly rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes. You watched him quietly, unsure of the right thing to say.

He buried his face, fingertips massaging the hairline at his temples. He was still whisper-muttering to himself as you watched him.

“Adam…” you said, but he just grunted into his palms.

You sighed, “Adam….”

“Jesus, what kid?” he huffed, leaning up and glaring at you. His face was red, dampness was smudged around his eyes.

His eyes dropped from your face and zeroed in on what you were holding out to him. Your pinky finger.

You extended it like an olive branch with a tentative smile. His face burst into a toothy grin, his shoulders relaxed down from up around his ears and he turned his body to face you like he had to fully commit to the action.

Slowly he curled his fingers to his palm bar one, the pinky. Cautiously, like a nervous animal, he returned the gesture.

You raised your eyebrows encouragingly as the tips of your two fingers touched.

Your finger wrapped around his securely, your hand seeming baby-like against the gargantuan size of his, “I promise you’ll never be on your own.”

[trashpandafiction]

Thank You - One Shot

Summary: (#30 on this prompt list. ) A rainy day with your roommate and best friend, Adam, turns into a bit more. Pairings: Adam Sackler x Reader Word Count: 1,250 A/N: I am terrible at summaries. This is purely self-indulgent because I am trash for Adam Driver and wanted to write something involving him.

Please do not repost or redistribute my work! Reblogs are welcome!

It had been pouring rain all day, so your plans to go shopping sounded less fun than they had when you made them. Instead, you threw on your favorite pair of joggers and a long-sleeve shirt that you stole from your roommate and best friend, Adam. Your plan was to order delivery, watch your favorite guilty pleasure shows, and maybe do something creative, but you’d only do it from the comfort of the couch.

          You had gotten situated on the large sectional and just grabbed the remote when you heard the front door opening, followed by a groan. Looking over, you saw Adam in a soaking wet jacket, his hair dripping, and a plastic bag in each of his hands.

          “Why didn’t you drive?” you asked him.

          “I did. This was just from the trip from my car into the building.” he replied, kicking his shoes off.

          “Why don’t you go get changed? I’ll put your clothes in the dryer.” You said, standing up from the couch.

          He set the bags he was holding on the counter and shrugged out of his jacket and jeans, right in the entryway. “Don’t look in those bags yet.” He said before going down the hall to the bathroom.

          “Noted.” You chuckled softly as you grabbed his discarded clothes and headed to the laundry room to get them in the dryer.

          Adam came behind you and put his jeans and shirt inside the dryer with his other clothes and a towel. “Have you eaten?”

          “Not yet, I was thinking about ordering something.” You replied, getting the dryer started. “What are you hungry for?”

          “Order whatever you want. Pizza?” he replied, slowly walking backwards out of the room.

          “Pizza’s good.” You nodded, following him out of the room.

          You followed him into the living room and sat back down on the couch, grabbing your phone so you could order pizza. It came about forty-five minutes later, and you both ate while watching a rerun of Law and Order. After you both cleaned everything up, Adam grabbed the bag from the counter and brought it over to the coffee table. He set it down and sat next to you, gesturing to the bag.

          “What?” you asked.

          “Open it.” He said.

          You looked at the bag and then back at him. “Is it gonna jump out at me or something?”

          “No, nothing like that, just open it.” He shook his head.

          You leaned forward and opened the bag, looking inside carefully. You pulled out adult coloring books, markers, colored pencils, and crayons. Then you pulled out your favorite snacks and two puzzles. “What’s all this for?” you asked, turning to look at him.

          “I know you said you were supposed to shop, but I know that whenever it pours like this, you like to stay home.” He shrugged.

          “Adam, you didn’t have to get me all of this.” You smiled.

          “I know. Technically it’s not all for you though, I already claimed this one.” He said, grabbing one of the coloring books.

          You watched him as he moved to the floor between the couch and the coffee table, wasting no time opening the markers and pencils. “You’re staying home on a Saturday night to color with me and do puzzles?”

          “Why’s that so hard to believe?” he asked and looked up at you. “Come on.”

          You smiled, shaking your head as you moved to sit next to him. “Adam, this is…thank you.” You nudged his arm gently.

          “You’re welcome.” He said and nudged you back.

          The two of you colored before switching to the sketchbook and trying to draw the strangest monster you could both come up with. While you did so, you chatted about a little bit of everything, joking, and discussing deeper topics. After finishing a page in your coloring book, you leaned back and watched him, he was taking his time with a drawing, and you couldn’t help but smile.

          He looked over at the pile of markers and noticed you watching him, so he looked at you. “What?”

          “Nothing.” You shrugged. “This just means a lot to me. I know it’s not a huge thing, but it still means a lot.”

          “Well, you mean a lot to me so making you happy is a mutually good time.” He said and picked up a marker.

          It caught you off guard. You both were close, and you were sure there were mutual feelings between you two, but neither of you acted on it. “You mean a lot to me too, Adam, and I love you.” You smiled.

          “I love you too.” He said and began coloring another spot on his coloring page.

          “I’m gonna find a way to pay you back for this, you know.” You said and started coloring a spot on your coloring page.

          “You already have.” He shrugged.

          “How?” you asked and looked over at him. You both did plenty for each other, that’s what friends did. He watched terrible horror movies with you, you took him to auditions and listened to his rants when they didn’t go well. Neither of you felt obligated to, you just did it. But this seemed like a special circumstance.

          “I had nothing to live for, but then you came into my life. So, thank you.” He deadpanned, looking at the markers to pick another one.

          You looked at him and smiled some. “Yeah right.” He said it so nonchalantly, you thought he was joking. “Are you serious?”

          “Yeah.” He said and looked over at you.

          He wasn’t joking about this. “Adam…”

          “I’m serious.” He said.

          You didn’t know what to say to him, so you pushed the coffee table back gently and knelt in front of him. “You never told me that.”

          “Well, I didn’t know how you’d feel about how I feel about you.” He shrugged.

          “What if I felt the same way about you?” You asked softly.

          He looked up at you, tapping a marker against your knee gently. “How do we feel?”

          “Like there’s something more than friendship here.” You said. Maybe it was the cozy feeling of the night, or maybe it was him being vulnerable with you, but it felt like the time to get everything out in the open. “Is that how you feel?”

          He sat up and put his hand on the side of your neck, his thumb running along your jaw. “I don’t have arts and crafts night with just anyone.”

          You smiled and leaned into his touch. “Aren’t I special?” you teased.

          “I guess.” He teased back.

          “Is this gonna make things different between us?” you asked him, your hands resting on his chest.

          “I hope so.” He nodded, leaning in slowly.

          “Me too.” You whispered, leaning in to close the space between you.

          He pressed his lips against yours, his hand moving to the back of your neck to bring you closer to him. You moved your hand to his collar, holding it gently as you kissed him back. It was like a weight had been lifted between you.

          You broke the kiss slowly to take a breath, smiling as he kissed along your jaw. “Thank you.”

          “For what?” he asked and looked up at you, his free hand moving to rest on your hip.

          You didn’t know how to put your feelings into words. “Everything.”

          He nodded and kissed you gently. “Thank you, too.” He kissed you again and then looked up at you. “I’m still gonna win our monster drawing contest.” He grinned.

[inklore]

❥ — smut | ✶ — dark content

kylo ren.

one shots

piteous toxin (1.1k) ❥

hate and humility ran your relationship with kylo, as did the heavy hand he loved having you wrap around his throat.

ben solo.

one shots

garage rooftop (1k)

the lines of friendship or something more grow more blurry the longer your eyes move from each mole, his cheek bones, his dark eyes, his lips. and you really don’t understand why the two of you hadn’t become something more ages ago.

commander mills.

one shots

warning signs (1.1k) ❥

if the two of you were to die like this; with mills rutting against you, his cock stretching you, his deep breaths and praises against your ear, your slick coating his length as you come, then so be it.

adam sackler.

blurbs

head in your lap

[swiftiedriver]

hi everyone! I’m new here on this end of the internet, and I’m here to interact with my fellow swifties and rats!