#sackler thots

I want to request something but you don't have to do it if you're not into it, of course, but what do you think of: reader with hip dips and one of the boys (any) comforting them because they're insecure about what they might think of it? this has been on my mind for a long time and I couldn't find anything similar here on tumblr. Again, this is very specific so you really don't have to! But I thought I could try because your writing is just so so good!!! Have a great dayyy💕💕

Hi, sweet friend! Thank you so so so much for your kind words. It makes me so happy that you've enjoyed reading! I've been cranking out Kinktober prompts, so I've been waaaay behind on drabble requests—my b! Please accept these Sackler thots.

"The fuck?" His brows pinch in the middle, expression confused. "There's a name for that shit?"

"Yeah," you mumble, eyes downcast. "There's a name for everything that's wrong with me."

He'd stripped you down to your underwear, crowding you into the corner of the couch while he kissed and nipped and squeezed and touched... until he made it down to your hips. Squirming down the cushions, you tried to hide yourself underneath his body, but he wouldn't have it. You told him not to look, but of course, he fucking looked.

And now he looks at you, entirely incredulous at the words coming from your mouth.

"Kid, that's bullshit. There's nothing wrong with you."

"But I hate them."

"Well, I don't," he scoffs.

"But they're—"

He cuts you off mid-sentence.

"You know what these are?" His hands smooth from your waist to your thighs and back again.

"What?" you ask hesitantly.

"Handles," he grunts, flipping you onto your belly and pulling your ass up to meet the thick bulge in his jeans. You hear the rasp of his zipper as he untucks his aching cock, notching his tip inside your entrance.

Ok so I held onto this and I know this is way late in coming (no pun intended) but here are a few thots. 

OH I LOVE A GOOD ROOMMATES TROPE. Please accept these roommate!Sackler thots. 😈

“Stay on your side,” you hiss.

“You stay on your side!”

Cursing the carful of out-of-town friends currently occupying Adam’s bed and mustard yellow couch, you yank the covers over, inadvertently exposing his feet.

“You little shit,” he whispers, recoiling at the cool air and yanking his legs up to brush against yours.

“It’s my bed,” you spit in his direction.

He rolls onto his shoulder to face you. “You’re the one who wanted me in it.”

“I already regret it,” you say, eyes raking over his face in the dark, body subtly canting towards his.

“Yeah?” he asks, breath hot on your skin.

“Yeah.”

Your lips crash together, mouths working and teeth clicking as you fist at his shirt.

“Fuckin’… fuckin’ knew you liked me,” he gasps between rough kisses.

“Shut up,” you snarl, yanking his shirt over his head.

He’s rushed and greedy as he shoves your pj bottoms down your thighs, sinking his thick fingers into the cleft of your pussy as you kick them off.

“So you’re just always this wet, huh?” he rasps, rubbing slow circles into your clit.

You whimper into his mouth, hips bucking at his touch.

“Jesus Christ,” you mumble as your fingers slip beneath the waistband of his briefs to wrap around his thick cock, heat radiating onto your palm.

He’s going to split you in two.

His hand hooks under your knee and he pulls you on top of him, your thighs straddling his waist.

“Ride me,” he growls, lifting your hips to notch the tip of his cock in your entrance.

The stretch-burn of it tears straight through your spine; your back arches as you sink down on his length. And you take it. You’ll take it all for him.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he whispers, grinding your clit against the base of his cock. “You like that?”

“Like it better when you’re quiet,” you retort, thighs shaking from the sensation.

“Like it better when you’re not,” he grins, bucking his hips up into you.

You wake up, limbs tangled together, soft light filtering through the blinds. Adam grumbles sleepily, pressing a kiss to your forehead and pulling you in closer.

Hi, anon! What a huge transition! I remember when I first moved away from family—it was exciting and freeing and bittersweet and sad and everything in between. I hope you're taking good care of yourself right now and giving yourself time to feel those feelz. With that, please accept these Sackler thots.

He was one of the first people you met in the city, his apartment quickly becoming a second home. Sometimes it felt better to be in his space than your own—less of a reminder that you were finally on your own.

You sit on his couch, your knees tucked up into your chest and arms wrapped tight around yourself.

"Kid," he says, brow furrowing. "You look like a hedgehog. What's up?"

"Do you ever get homesick?" you ask.

"No, not really. I like Brooklyn."

"What about missing your family?"

"My parents are buffoons," he shrugs, "and my sister's a little fuckin'... out there."

"Oh," you say quietly.

"But you miss yours, huh?" He settles on the couch next to you.

You nod, tears welling in your eyes.

He drapes an arm around your shoulders, warm and heavy and comforting. You aren't used to him touching you like this, but you welcome it, leaning into the little nook he creates for you.

"It wouldn't hurt so bad if you didn't love them so much," he says. "You have a real connection. That's fucking special. You gotta work to maintain that shit."

"I know," you whisper. "You're right." There are ways you can stay in touch, ways you can connect and share your lives—you just have to put in the effort and carve out the time for it.

Ah! I felt the same way watching those scenes. They were such an explosive pair, and I'm sure it really took an emotional toll. All I've ever wanted is to see Sackler with a caring, communicative partner—I just think he would flourish. 🥺 I'm not taking full fic requests right now, but please accept these Sackler thots xoxo.

He's always been able to talk to you—just talk.

But the first time you kiss, he's speechless.

He thinks any relationship without some amount of conflict is bullshit. If you never disagree or get upset about anything, it means one person is getting steamrolled or both people are bottling up their emotions and opinions.

He's got feelings, yeah. He's got a fucking lot of them. In the past, it was always easier to spit out his words with vitriol, to match the volume of his partner, or just to cut and run altogether.

But the first time you argue, it's different.

There's no shouting, no shit breaking—only honesty and conversation.

"It's chamomile tea," you say, pressing a mug into his hand and taking a sip of your own. "Let's talk about it."

He does, because he knows you'll listen. He does, because he knows you'll hear him.

Babe. BABE. Your asexuality is so valid. YOU are so valid. And you know what? You are SO worthy of love. Sexuality/asexuality looks so different for so many people, and wherever you are on that spectrum is just right. You WILL find loving and fulfilling relationships. With that, please accept these Sackler thots.

Eyes downcast, you study the way your shoelaces criss-cross, the way you wring your hands in your lap.

You'd finally gotten it all out, gotten it over with, said everything you needed to say—and now you sit in silence on Adam's mustard yellow couch, waiting to hear the way he'll surely respond. It's over. It's done. There's no way things can work between you.

"What?" he says flatly, shaking his head. You brace yourself for the impact of his words... But he cups your cheek softly, turning you to face him. "You think I won't want to be with you just because you don't want to fuck?"

"I—"

"Kid, that's the stupidest shit I've ever heard. Look at me." He smushes your face between his palms, making your lips pucker. "I love you. I'm in this for you—whatever that looks like. Okay?"

He moves your head in an exaggerated up-and-down motion to nod 'yes,' and you can't help but laugh, chest flooding with relief.

OKAY TWIST MY ARM! Please accept these Sackler thots.

(cw: somnophilia)

You’re never quiet when he fucks you. He can never just enjoy the wet squelch of your cunt as he pumps his hard cock inside you.

Dried cum paints your inner thighs. He fucked you stupid last night, made you babble his name like a little slut while he stuffed you full again and again.

But you don’t have much to say like this: your naked body spread out underneath his hungry gaze. Your breath is slow and hushed, your lips parted softly.

He hasn’t been snapping his hips the way he would if you were awake, no—he didn’t want to wake you up so soon.

You whimper softly anyway, your hot cunt fluttering around him.

He just about busted a nut when you told him he could do this whenever he wanted, that he could fuck your juicy, pliant pussy while you slept... but there is one thing he can’t resist getting you up for.

Oh, what I wouldn’t give to be finger-fucked by that little shithead... *sigh* Please accept these Sackler thots.

(cw: light verbal debasement / name-calling)

“Never felt a tighter fuckin’ pussy,” he rasps in your ear.

Your slick cunt squelches around the fingers he pumps inside you—he had to start with just one, but now he’s worked you up to two.

He thinks you can take another.

A needy moan tears from your chest when he crams a third finger inside you, curling all three upwards to grate against your g-spot.

“Dirty little whore.” He nips at the juncture of your neck and shoulders. “You want the whole fucking building to hear you?”

“N-no,” you whimper, cunt clamping around him. “Aah fffuck…”

“Well I do,” he grins. “You walk in here looking so cute, but they should know what a slut you really are.”

“Adam, I—”

He brings the heel of his palm to your clit, grinding it harshly as he drags his fingers against your front wall. It sends fire straight through your core, pulling your body tight like a bowstring.