#Adam sackler x reader

[glassbxttless]

Summary: You’re new to the building and fortunately for you— you meet the handsome, yet annoyingly loud, hobby carpenter who lives across the hall.

Word Count: 9,011 (combined)

Warnings: female reader, plus size reader, swearing, body image, mentions of weight gain, smut, body reassurance, hurt/comfort, sort of a slow burn?, slight infidelity

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[silksandcravats]

ADCU masterlist

adam driver cinamatic universe writing kylo ren • flip zimmerman • charlie barber • adam sackler explicit pieces marked with * ! in the process of fixing links !

Viscount!Kylo Ren Regency Era Series

inspired by the viscount who loved me (bridgerton)

MOODBOARD 1

MOODBOARD 2

Viscount!Kylo details (history and backstories, not a writing piece)

Meeting Viscount!Kylo (backstory p1)

“Courting” Viscount!Kylo (backstory p2)

“Proposal” by Viscount!Kylo (backstory p3)

Wedding Night *

Life as the new Viscountess *

All Tied Up*

Older things and @ zimmermansbrat archive

love languages series  (ft. kylo, flip, charlie, sackler) 

Kylo Ren 

Training pt 1

Training pt 2*

Faking it*

Sleepwalking - Modern!Kylo

“You look so good with my hands around your neck.” *

“Am I Dreaming?”  HC

Charlie Barber

Drinking

“Fucking is a reward, but you haven’t been good.” *

periods with Charlie HC

Flip Zimmerman

Unlocked*

Come Back to Bed

Burden

Drunk Confessions

Minor Disagreements

Overstimulation*

Catch me*

Not talking*

Rocky Mountain Threeway (ft Clyde!) part 1* (abandoned)

“I won’t apologise for marking you up, everyone should know that you’re taken.” *

“You know I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter, don’t push your luck.” *

“I still find myself falling asleep with you on my mind.”  (wack version)

“I still find myself falling asleep with you on my mind” (serious version)

Adam Sackler

Distracted 

Neighbors - Morby Writing Challenge (can be read as gender neutral)

Being on a plane with Sackler HC

[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!

[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

[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.

[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]

Ooooo how would any/all of the boys react to turning 40???

*Sigh* 40 is a damn fine age. Please accept these snaccs:

Charlie Barber: Henry's all set up to stay with his cousins for the week so you two can get away to the little villa he's booked in Tuscany for the two of you. You'll have the whole time to drink red wine, make homemade pasta, and fuck in the sunshine on the deck off the master bedroom.

Clyde Logan: He feels so damn lucky to be alive, to be with you. Growin' up with Jimmy, two tours in Iraq, all his adventures and misadventures, and he's finally settled down with you and happy as can be. All he wants is to sit with ya on the porch swing and watch the sunset with a beer in hand—but he won't say no to the butterscotch cake ya baked him.

Adam Sackler: Can't really believe he's fuckin' forty. He promises to put some of his commercial money in an IRA and take enough of a break from acting for a little staycation to fuck on every surface of your apartment together.

Flip Zimmerman: You sure you don't want to have a baby, sugar?

Phillip Altman: Perpetual man child. He offers to get matching cougar tattoos with you.

Rick Smolan: Motorcycle tour of Vietnam together, letting you take photos on his DSLR while you ride on the back of his bike.

Ronnie Peterson: Cabo San Lucas with you and all your friends. He wants to drink daiquiris, sing karaoke, and maybe get a sunburn at a nude beach!

[juniperwoodwell]

Hello! I am so glad I found your page. I hope you are still taking requests.

I was thinking of one with Adam Sackler and a very level-headed significant other. Adam was always hot-headed and tended to erupt during times of argument or emotional distress. I always wondered what it would be like to have him paired with an emotionally mature girlfriend that only wants the best for him and tries to get him to open up to her and deal with his problems in a healthy manner.

I believe that the scenario can open up an opportunity for angst if during a moment when she's trying to talk him down, he throws something and she accidentally gets hurt.

The prompts that came to mind were 13. "Don't push me away." and 46. "Are we gonna talk or are you just gonna sit there and sulk?"

Thank you!

The Edge of Us

Adam Sackler x F!Reader.

Warnings: Verbal Aggression, Angst, Throwing things (Only one thing), Cursing.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Hey! Thank you so much for your request, it's such a great idea and I just had to write it!

It's not much but I made sure to add in those prompts! I hope you like it.

The argument was over something entirely stupid. Or at least, that’s how it felt to me. Adam, on the other hand? Well, he was Adam.

He sat on the couch, legs spread wide, arms crossed tightly over his chest like a defiant child. His jaw was set, brows furrowed, the storm brewing behind his eyes as obvious as the tension suffocating the room. I mirrored his posture as I stood in front of him, the coffee table acting as a barrier between us.

"You do know I have a life outside of this apartment, right?" I said, my hands finding my hips as I met his glare head-on.

He scoffed, the sound bitter, his lips twisting in that condescending way that never failed to make my blood boil. "Of course I do, but you’ve been out every night with your friends. You act like you hate me when you get home, then you completely ignore me in the morning before work."

I let out a sharp sigh, rolling my eyes. "That's such an exaggeration, Adam. I’ve gone out twice this week. Twice. And once was with my sister. We even invited you—remember? You said no. I don’t hate you. I have no idea where you’re even getting that from. But every time I come home, you’re on this couch, either glued to a game or watching something mindless. After a while? Yeah, I stopped trying to get your attention."

His posture snapped forward, the muscles in his arms flexing under his crossed grip as he stared me down. "That’s not true. Yesterday? I hugged you the second I walked through the door, and you didn’t even acknowledge me."

My voice dropped, steady but laced with growing frustration. "Yeah? You wanna know why?"

He shrugged, and the silence felt heavier than the words hanging between us.

"Because," I bit out, "two days ago, I asked you to pick up milk and bread—literally two things, Adam. Two. And when I got home, I couldn’t make dinner because you forgot. So I had to go out and do it myself, after working all day. And you? You just sat there like it was nothing."

His face twisted, mouth opening in that silent oh as his gaze dropped to the floor. He looked caught for half a second—before the stubbornness returned.

"Yeah, well, I told you I was gonna be busy that day," he muttered, voice tight, defensive.

"The store is next door, Adam. Not across town. You’re just too caught up in whatever you’re doing to care about this relationship. You do realize I can’t do everything for you, right? I’m not your mom."

That hit the nerve. I saw the shift, the way his body went rigid, the tension snapping like a wire stretched too thin.

Adam shot to his feet, the coffee table between us feeling too small all of a sudden. His brown eyes, usually warm, were sharp—cutting.

"Don’t give me that look," I warned, heart pounding faster than I wanted to admit.

His voice dropped, low and dangerous, his words practically vibrating with suppressed anger.

"You certainly act like my fucking mother, Y/n."

And just like that, the dam broke.

He grabbed something from the coffee table—something fragile. His hand closed around it too tightly, and before I could react, it shattered, the shards scattering as it just barely missed my head.

The sound echoed, sharp and final.

I stared at him, my body tense but my eyes steady, unsurprised.

“Oh, so we’re throwing things now? That's how we get our point across? Real mature, Adam.��

My voice was calm, but I took a step back as he rounded the coffee table, the tension in his movements coiling tighter, heavier.

We stood chest to chest, his face inches from mine. He was taller, broader, glaring down at me with those wild, furious eyes, his breathing ragged like he was barely holding it together. But me? I didn’t flinch. I didn’t cower.

He was a storm trying to swallow the room whole, and I refused to get swept up in it.

“Screw you, Y/n.” The words came out in a low snarl, venom lacing every syllable. His face twisted with something ugly—hurt masked as anger, the kind he didn’t know how to express.

Then, like the child he was acting like, he tore his glare away, shoulder checking me just enough to prove his point before storming down the hall.

The bedroom door slammed hard enough to rattle the walls.

I exhaled, a long, slow breath as the silence pressed back in. My hand dragged over my face, fingertips pressing into my temples in irritation.

So much noise. So much anger.

And yet, nothing had actually been said.

I took a deep breath, rolling my shoulders back as I steadied myself. This had to be solved—now—or we’d just keep spiraling further apart.

The tension still clung to the air, thick and stifling, but I refused to let it settle.

With careful, measured steps, I approached the bedroom door. My knuckles rapped lightly against the wood, the sound hollow in the silence.

"Don't shut me out," I said softly, voice calm but firm as I reached for the handle.

It turned under my grip.

The door eased open with a quiet creak, revealing him hunched over on the edge of the bed. His elbows rested on his knees, his head bowed, hands tangled in his hair.

The anger that had fueled him minutes before seemed to have burned itself out, leaving only this—defeated. Raw.

"Get out," he grumbled, voice muffled and rough, like he was barely holding the cracks together.

I didn't move.

"Are we gonna talk," I asked, keeping my voice steady, "or are you just gonna sit there and sulk?"

His head snapped up.

There it was again—that flash of fire in his eyes, a spark reigniting. "Sulk? Really?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, but it was brittle, the edge dulled by whatever he was holding back.

"Yeah. Sulk." I crossed my arms, standing my ground even as his glare sharpened. "This—" I gestured to him, slouched and brooding, "—is sulking. You're mad? Fine. Be mad. But throwing things? Storming off? That's not solving anything, Adam."

His jaw clenched, the muscle ticking beneath his skin as his hands curled into fists.

"You don’t get it—"

"Then explain it to me!" I interrupted, voice rising just enough to cut through his. "Stop shutting me out and tell me what you're so pissed off about!"

Silence.

For a heartbeat, I thought he was going to lash out again. His breathing was harsh, his chest rising and falling as if he was physically holding back the words.

And then, his face crumpled.

His shoulders sagged, head dropping back into his hands, and when he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, cracked.

"You make it so damn easy to feel…invisible."

That stopped me cold.

The anger I'd been clinging to slipped through my fingers, replaced by something heavier.

"Adam…" I softened, taking a hesitant step closer.

But he shook his head, as if rejecting the comfort before I could even offer it.

"I see you going out, smiling, laughing. And I’m just—here. Stuck in my head. And I hate it. I hate feeling like I don’t matter to you anymore."

I felt my chest tighten, his words striking deeper than I expected.

"You do matter to me. But you can't just…explode every time you feel like you're being ignored. You have to talk to me, Adam. Not break things. Not shut me out."

His head lifted, eyes meeting mine. The anger was gone now, leaving only hurt and frustration in its place.

"I'm trying," he whispered.

"So am I," I whispered back.

[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.

[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!”

[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!

[xinfinitegalaxiesx]

nothing gold by infinitegalaxies 

[hauntingoldhouses]

the heist

[mrs-gucci]

week one recap: sextember 2023

we're officially a week into sextember and it's been a blast so far!! I'm very proud of myself for sticking to it and keeping up my pace on writing. I'm really enjoying doing this for y'all and I hope you're enjoying the pieces!

more fics are on the way and will be posted up until sextember wraps next friday (sept. 23rd).

** as the event title suggests, all of these works have SMUT. so minors stay away, do not interact with these works or any of my 18+ content. **

here's a list of all the works that were released on week one of sextember:

Drive-In {flip zimmerman x reader} (525 words)

Fireside {clyde logan x reader} (1.19k words)

My Pumpkin {adam sackler x reader} (1.13k words)

A Masked Escapade {jacques le gris x reader} (1k words)

****

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.”

[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.