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Magic Hands

Chapter 10: Say Yes

Summary:

Magic_hands_moodboard

 

Enter the finale

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The sun is starting to rise outside as Adam barrels into the building, leaping up the stairs like a fucking hurricane and stopping only when he reaches his apartment door to frantically search for his keys. He doesn’t notice you, curled up on the stoop on the opposite side, where you’ve been waiting for him, trying to keep your shit together for a while now. You couldn’t reach him on the phone, couldn’t find him anywhere and you were starting to really freak out. Because you’d had hours to overthink, to slowly stew on your guilt. He wasn’t okay. God knows what could have happened to him, what he could have done.

He’s massively out of breath, jittery and sweaty as hell, but he’s here. Randomly clad in some jeans and a crinkled paisley button up, open at the front to a white sleeveless undershirt. He drops the keys after some useless fumbling around the lock, swearing under his breath in that colorful way of his. You watch him, entranced by his energy. You could exist just watching him, every little thing he does. The way he moves, the way he walks and talks, the words he choses, the mysterious depths of his chaotic, brilliant mind… He’s your favorite thing in the world, every odd, unique thing about him fascinates you and makes you feel all warm inside… even now. Neither of you had been at your best the previous day, and you know he probably wants to apologize. You’re also here to apologize after all, to make things right. You can’t risk losing him over something like this.

It’s only when he finally gets the door to open that you call his name, getting to your feet.

Adam gasps and freezes as his caramel brown eyes snap to yours, chest still heaving in harsh breaths.

“You weren’t home—“ He sputters.

“You weren’t here…” You echo.

“No, I— wanted to call you— but my pho— my phone—“ He chokes a little, bracing himself on the doorway to claw a hand over his abused lungs.

“Did you just run to my place?”

“Been running— all over.” He nods, clearing his throat. “Just want to talk. Please… would you please… come in?” His gaze remains trained on the floor as he steps aside, expression blank, almost as if waiting for a blow.

Your heart breaks yet again, and you have to fight the urge to reach out for him, to comfort him. You want to let him talk first, hear what he has to say.

The pattern of his breathing smoothes out as soon as you brush past him, and he follows you into the apartment, softly pushing the door shut behind his back.

He mechanically shrugs out of the outer shirt, dropping it on the floor as he takes one last long, settling breath. The rounded tops of his shoulders glisten with perspiration as he nervously pushes the hair out of his eyes, getting ready to face you.

“I’m a fucking idiot, y/n.”

“Adam… hey…”

“No, I am— I fucking lost it. And I’m so fucking sorry, and I regret it, but there’s no excuse for what I did. I wish we could go back in time, but… we can’t.”

“What are you saying?”

“It’s up to you, y/n.” He blurts. “I don’t want to live without you, but I will, If I have to. You don’t owe me shit, and I’ll never bother you again if that’s what you want.” He’s all but trembling as he gets the hurting words out, like poison out of his system, unwilling to hold your gaze for long.

“No, wait—” You rush to him, your stomach lurching with dread, needing to shut him up somehow, stop him from saying the things he’s saying, still saying.

“I’ll understand, I swear I’ll stay away. But if you give me another—” His voice starts to wobble, “a chance… I—” Your hands fall on his shoulders and he completely crumbles at your touch, sinking to his knees with a choked whimper. His arms wrap around your legs as he lets out a sob, face pressed to the crease of your hip. “—please—please.” Is all he manages past that point, even as you cradle him close to you, dangerously close to tears yourself.

You can’t believe this is happening, can’t believe it’s come to this. You need to make him understand, make him see… that you’re also to blame, and that you’re gonna fix this together no matter what.

“Baby, don’t— I don’t want that, I don’t want any of that! Don’t ever say that, okay?” Your hands on his face gently urge him to look up and you finally meet his puffy red eyes, underlined with dark blueish circles. He’s never looked more wretched. “We can talk, we can work things out like we should have— I never should have left you like that, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking, I panicked, and I… tend to run away from conflict. I immediately regretted it.”

Adam gulps, throat bobbing. “It’s not your fault. I know I scared you.”

You pause, but quickly shake your head, refusing that thought.

“I was scared… But not of you. I was scared of this, of maybe losing… what we have.”

More sobs wreck through his body, making his shoulders heave violently as he falls into you deeper, harder. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” He’s thrown on a loop and you need to get him out, do some much needed damage control.

“No— Listen, I could have stopped… that creep, but I didn’t. I told you it was fine, but it wasn’t. You knew all along, I was the fucking idiot.”

He shakes his head no, leaving tear streaks across your shirt.

“It’s okay, honey bear.” Your hands sweep through his hair and squeeze at the stiff muscles on his back, as you pull him impossibly close. “It’s okay. I know you tried to hold back for my sake, and things only got worse.“ You continue, feeling your voice start to crack. ”I never want you to hold back again, not any more… not for me.”

“I love you.”

It falls from his lips, muttered quietly against your stomach. It’s unflourished, unexpected and completely disarming, just like him. And you can’t stop the breathy chuckle that escapes you as you too drop to the sawdust covered floor and confess to him,

“I know.”

He pulls back to look at you with bewildered, shiny eyes.

“You’ve told me before.” You cup his cheeks, wiping at the wetness there.

“…I have?”

“Hmmhm.”

“When?” He softly asks.

“When you were sick, in your sleep.” Adam blinks, brows arching up for a second. “That was the first time.” His mouth works, bottom lip just shy of a pout.

“…when else?” He sniffles, like a little child, letting curiosity momentarily win over his outburst.

“You tell me you love me every time you touch me.” Your hands glide slowly down his neck, pulling in until your foreheads connect. “Every time you kiss me. Every time you” But he tightens his hold around you, and your head empties of any other thought that isn’t him for a short, blissfully breathless moment.

“When else?” He coaxes, one of his knuckles coming up to brush away a stray tear of your own.

“…y-you might have shouted it yesterday at the train, too.”

Adam goes still as he visibly tries to process that. “Did I?”

You nod, smiling at the mortified look on his face. “I could hear you the whole time.”

“I don't remember, everything’s a blur. How fucked up is that shit?”

“You were a mess…”

“I am a mess. I’m a real fucking mess!”

“You’re a big, hot mess. But you are my mess, and I—” Your heart swells inside your chest, and it can’t be contained, not anymore. “I love you, too. I have for a long time. I was stupid not to tell you.”

That sends him again, and he throws himself at you with a renewed sense of urgency, nuzzling the crook of your neck and breathing as deeply as he can, over and over again. He holds you against him with an iron grip, his whole body tensing and quivering against yours.

“Sweetheart, baby, what is it? What do you need?”

“I— I need to know you're okay— need to know you forgive me—” He’s so affected by what happened, you can tell just how deep his emotions run.

“I forgive you, of course I forgive you.” You assure him, palms rubbing up and down his shoulders, soothing down the swell of his chest as he pulls away to look into your eyes.

“You love me?” He asks shakily.

“Yes.”

“Say it… Say it again.“

“I love you, Adam, so fucking much.” More tears roll down his cheeks, unleashed. “So much that I want to keep you. I want you to be my boyfriend, so you’re officially mine, and I’m officially yours. Do you want that? Want me to be yours?”

“Mine?” He breathes in absolute disbelief.

“Yeah, officially.”

“You know I do. Fuck kid, yes I do.”

And when he smiles he hits you right over the head with it. His very first smile today, and probably the happiest you’ve seen of him ever. And fuck if he isn’t beautiful like that, his face all damp, big dimples and crooked white teeth, expressive, sparkly brown eyes beaming right at you. And you catch your own jaw hurting from smiling too, because that’s what he does to you, him and his heart of gold. You don’t think you’ve ever smiled so much around anyone in your entire life, and he makes you happy, makes you fucking giddy with it. So you don’t give him time to do or say much else, as you pull him in for a crushing, sloppy, wet kiss that tastes salty and warm and like home, like him. He responds eagerly, his own mouth sort of tentative at first, but quickly searching, urging for something more.

“What else you need?” You ask breathlessly against his lips.

“Your skin, on mine.”

You hum and slip your hands under his white tank, feeling the still sweaty skin of his endless back as you push the garment up, up, up and over his head, stripping out of your own top next, before going back to sucking on his lips. He moans when you push on his chest and sling a leg over his lap, making him sit back on the floor with you on top. Warm skin meets skin and goosebumps break all over, nipples hardening at the contact. The kiss ebbs and flows, leading his mouth tenderly down your neck to end with a soft plea against your collarbone.

“Hold me.”

And you are holding him, but you do your best to pull him closer still, arms and legs straining to wrap around as much of his emotionally vulnerable body as possible, as he in turn welcomes you in. You burrow deeply into one another, grateful, wondering if you’ll ever get enough of this, this feeling, this connection you have found, this overwhelming, ever-expanding need.

“My girlfriend.” He muses quietly after a while, almost to himself. “My girl…" "I’m so lucky.”

His arms are crossed at your lower back, hands moving all the while, massaging tender circles onto your sides as your fingers stroke idly up and down his shoulders. He suddenly shifts under you, making you yelp as you’re propelled forward and swept into his arms. You scramble to hold tight but Adam’s got you, tucked firmly and safely against his chest. He just stood up, lifting you with him as if it was nothing at all.

“What are you doing!?”

“Taking my girl off the floor.”

He walks you both to his bedroom and gently drops you on the bed, kissing the tip of your nose and then your cheek. “We need sleep.” He kisses your other cheek and finally your lips, lingering for a beat longer than necessary.

You nod in agreement, getting under the sheet and lifting it for him to join you. Because you start to miss the heat of his body against yours, and it’s only been a few seconds. You honestly don’t know what the fuck you’d do without him at this point.

He relaxes as he slides in next to you, bodies flush, hands and lips and coming to stillness against your flesh once more.

But it’s too bright in the room, the sun being fully out now, and you’re still buzzing from everything that’s happened. Sleep doesn’t come easy, no matter how tired you both are.

Long minutes pass gazing into each other’s eyes, seeing as the light starts to form a golden halo behind him, shining off the tips of his hair and all around his head. Your fingertips are instantly drawn there, pushing slowly through the shaggy, soft strands, skirting around the shell of his ear to finally land on his jaw. His hooded eyes are filled with turmoil once more, but you say nothing and just continue to touch him, knowing he’ll inevitably spill.

He does.

“Y’know, when I said, when I told you… that I could live without you. That I would walk away.” He takes a shuddering breath, willing himself to be steady. “I did mean it, but… I don’t think that’s true, I don’t know… If I could.”

“You don’t have to, babe, I want you right here with me…”

Your words do nothing to calm him down, and you notice his large hands are shaking when you gather them against your chest and give them a big, hearty squeeze.

“Yesterday— last night, I almost— fuck, I went into a bar and I almost…”

Your hands squeeze his harder as you feel a sudden, stabbing twinge of fear. You want to let him finish but he doesn’t, and you just have to know, have to ask.

“What happened at the bar, Adam?”

He remains quiet, bitterly thoughtful for a handful torturous seconds.

“Nothing too bad happened at the bar… and I still can’t fucking believe it. It was a close fucking call.”

You caress his long, thick fingers, soothing over bruises and scratchy-red marks, only then realizing their badly beaten up state. One of his knuckles is actually split and swollen, and you look up at him with concern and a million questions in your eyes.

“I think I punched a few more things on the subway. Things, not people.”

You release the breath you were holding and bring his hand to your lips, pressing warm, soft kisses to each knuckle, each mark, each cut. Wishing so badly to heal the hands that healed you.

“I’m proud of you, dummy. For being strong… and staying out of trouble, while I figured my shit out. I feel so fucking responsible.”

“You have nothing to feel bad for, okay kid? We’ll get better at this… we need to, I need to… I need you too fucking bad.”

“You have me. I’m not going anywhere, you have me.”

“Good, cause you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know that, right? I love you, you drive me insane, you smell so good, you—”

“Adam,”

“I was done for the first time I touched you.” He stares at you intently, voice softening as he continues, “…do you remember?”

“How could I not? Horniest week of my life.”

Adam scoffs, “I remember being so scared you’d find out how hard my dick was all the time.”

“And yet… I was convinced I was the only one with a crush.”

He smirks and bites his lip, hand coming down to toy with the button of your jeans, twisting and tugging without undoing it. His gaze is cast downwards as he rumbles his cheeky innuendo.

“I know what will put us to sleep.”

“Oh?” His eyes snap back to yours, already dark, already yearning. “I see right through you, Sackler… and I like what I see.”

His smirk turns predatory as he immediately flattens his fingers over your slit, cupping and rubbing up and down, up and down, insistently through the fabric, while his lips get busy beneath your ear. You wonder if he always had a natural talent or if he just learned you, because he manages to touch you just right. Right position, right pressure, right speed, right everything, every time. Yeah, he has that magic touch.

“You— you wanna make me soak those?” You pant in his ear.

“Mmmm, not yet, baby, you’re so nice and warm…”

A single circle around your clit makes you weak in the knees, which next thing you know he’s pushing up over his shoulders as he rushes down. Two arms wrap firmly around your thighs, palms spreading you to accommodate his face and — he’s trying, literally trying to eat you through the jeans, using his teeth in a way that makes you appreciate the layers of fabric still between you. Like this, the friction, the sharp drag of his teeth, feels fucking fantastic.

“Ah-Dam—“ you grind out, grabbing handfuls of his hair, pushing him harder into you.

He exhales hot and heavy against your crotch and takes your reaction as encouragement to keep up with his onslaught. His nibbles hone in on your clit, lips eventually encircling it and humming long and low, instantly liquefying your insides. You start to feel the dull caress of his tongue in the middle, as he keeps sucking and humming through you like a mad man, and you’re gone, fucking gone, already making incoherent noises, already so close to cumming.

“Now…” He says hoarsely, parting for a moment to catch his breath. “now they’re soaked.”

He takes a few more seconds to look down at what he’s done, debating whether the sight of your pants like that is delectable or actually offensive, before deciding he wants them gone. Hooking his fingers on either side, he yanks them down, not even bothering to undo them, peeling them off you until they’re inside out and over his head in a single motion, together with your panties.

He needs another moment as soon as he looks back at you, going completely still and breathing hard and fast through his nose, the swelling in front of his jeans painfully thick. You wish he’d also take them off and let you ease him with your mouth, let you ride him until he bursts.

But he just falls between your legs to taste you again, properly, thoroughly now. A strong forearm across your hips holds you in place, the other hand, splayed on your inner thigh, opens you up for his tongue. It traces your folds and dances across the sensitive bud of your clit, making your thighs shiver tightly around his head. Your shaky moans elicit rough sounds of arousal from him, and you fuel each other like that.

“Fuck, you’re fucking delicious.” He relents just for a moment, just to say that, “Wanna feel you cum on my tongue and then my cock—”

He dives back in and sucks you into his hot mouth, plush lips and insatiable tongue working you higher and higher. “Anm’ff—” he tries to say something else that ends up completely muffled against your pussy, so he emerges and tries again. “and my ffuckin’ fingers.”

A blunt digit prods at your entrance without further warning, swirling and coating itself in your slick as it enters you slowly. Your eyes roll back, core contracting at the sensation, perfect when combined with the suckling latch of his mouth outside, and just blinding when his finger curls gently upwards, pressed as far inside you as it can go. You start to rock your hips, whimpering as you shamelessly fuck his face.

Adam seems to love it and wastes no time thrusting a second finger in, middle and index working together now to chase your unstoppable climax. His whole body is engaged, shoulders pushing into your thighs, stomach taut and hips rolling mindlessly against the mattress. His rich moans reverberate all through your core, making you slowly crack into thousands of little pieces. One last flicker of his tongue and you see white, you see stars and fucking universes exploding behind your eyelids, the pleasure seems to go on for ages. Your grip is hard enough to smother him as you ride out your high, clit pulsing happily against his tongue. When you finally come down, breathing hard and doused in sweat, he’s already looming over you, cock in hand near your center as if to make good on his promise to fuck you, but his flushed face and screwed up eyes say otherwise.

“Fuck— I’m so hard, I—“

His eyes cross as he gives himself a tentative little stroke.

“FUCKINGHHfff!”

He’s got seconds at most, so you scramble to collect your scattered brains and give him an out, arching your back and running a hand up the front of your body.

“Cum on me babe,”

You feel the first hot drops of him on your stomach before you can even finish the sentence, then higher, thicker spurts hitting your ribcage, breasts, and all over your chest. He brokenly grunts above you, dark hair falling over his eyes as he holds himself up with a hand beside your shoulder, his other hand wringing the orgasm furiously out of him.

“Okay— Okay—” He sits back on his heels, sucking in shaky breaths and blinking to bring the world back into focus. “I… I’m…”

“Hot way of marking me as yours…” You quip before he can even think of apologizing.

Adam gives you a lazy smirk, eyes wandering all over your body in awe. In pure worship, as the tips of his fingers touch the small pool of cum between your tits, smearing it down, following the path of his spend before dipping his coated fingers past your lips and into your pussy.

“…Mine…” He growls in a voice so gravelly low you hardly recognize.

His dick twitches, still hard in his fist, and he brings it toward your entrance to replace his fingers. He presses in with a soft groan, both shuddering from the heightened sensitivity. But nothing stops him from slowly flexing his hips into yours for a few more lethargic thrusts. Nothing stops him from bearing down til he can feel the head of his cock kiss your cervix, then lowering himself onto you, heart to heart.

You relish his heavy weight, bodies slack and sated as you bathe in the afterglow, the world outside and the events of the past 24 hours long forgotten. You fall asleep as promised, cuddling between tremors in each other’s arms.

***

It must be late in the afternoon when you wake back up, to a cold bed and some vigorous huffing and puffing in the background. You throw one of Adam’s threadbare t-shirts over your sticky body -you really, really need a shower-, and pad sneakily into the living room. He’s on the bench press, lifting the loaded barbell up and down, over and over with a vengeance. You can see every flex of his body, every ripple of muscle through his pale skin, since he’s in his usual, skimpy pair of short shorts. You take a minute to appreciate how wonderfully jacked he is, how criminally good he looks right now, and debate whether to just jump his bones right there on the bench. But you think you better find out why he wasn’t in bed with you first, and is doing this instead.

“Hey…”

Adam grunts in response, letting the bar fall back on its hooks with a sharp metallic thud.

“Heyeyyeyyy” He sits up, stretching the broad front of his chest with a lopsided smile.

“You alright?”

“Yah!”

“Am I interrupting your drill, or…”

“Oh, no! I just had morning wood, and I thought I’d let you rest.”

You look at the darkened window and back at him, cocking an eyebrow. “Morning wood, huh?”

“You want breakfast?” He continues, ignoring you. “…We need fuel.”

You feel a shiver of anticipation imagining what other energetic activities he might have planned for this “morning”, when he plants himself in front of you and dips down to catch your mouth. He tilts his head and kisses you hungrily slow, tongue needy and hot.

“Goodmornin…” He mumbles against your lips.

“Hi, Bear…”

“iloveyou” He goes on, backing you against the wall.

“Mmmhmm, love you too.” It just feels great, being able to say it out loud.

“Moveinwithme”

“Wait,” You giggle dumbly. ”…what?”

“Move in. With me.” He enunciates slowly, an inquiring look in his firey dark eyes.

Your jaw drops a little, leaving your mouth open. You close it, just for it to open again.

“Say yes, kid.”

“H-here?!” You stutter, kind of at a loss for words.

“Here, your place… wherever, I don’t care. I just wanna be with you.”

And it’s not like you don’t wanna be with him too. You wanna be with him all the time… In fact, that’s all you think about when you’re apart, it just hadn’t occurred to you that he would even… want that, or be ready for that. But damn, the way he’s looking at you right now… It leaves no room for doubt. You have cleared the air, you’re on the same page, you probably always were.

“Fuck it. Yes, I’ll move in with you!”

Your back meets the wall, bodies colliding as his hands hold your face to devour you, all in a split second. The next one you’re hoisted up, big hands slipping under your thighs, and the endless want of him already pressing between your legs.

He is your home and you’ll happily have breakfast at night, cereal for dinner and pasta in the dark, if that means you get to be his.

Notes:

We did it 😭 omg, we did it! I will miss this soft Sackie ❤️ Love you guys.