Work Text:
“Bathroom…the bathroom is open…”
You’re a wreck right now—panting, lip gloss smeared, your hands tangled in a dark, thick mess of some guy’s hair. Some huge guy’s hair, who is now backing you into said bathroom at a party you were invited to on a whim, and kicking the door shut behind you.
“This is okay, right? You’re not drunk?” huge guy asks, detaching himself from your mouth just long enough to get an answer.
“No…I mean yes, it’s okay—no I’m not drunk,” you pant, fisting your hands in his shirt and letting your head knock back against the bathroom door. His mouth is back on yours immediately, subtly pressing his hips against your lower half and groaning into your lips. The bathroom—and the size of him—are slightly suffocating but the friction of him grinding into you is too good. Clothes…you need less clothes.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Want to feel you,” he breathes, hand going for the button at your jeans. Yes , your mind screams—you’re lost in the feeling of his fingers on the skin of your belly, closer to the ache between your legs…
*ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ*
You jump suddenly, the vibration in your back pocket reverberating against the wood of the door. Your phone. Your phone??? Who the fuck could be calling you right now? Anyone in their right mind knows to fucking text you…
*ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ*
“Hang on,” you rasp, yanking the offending object from behind you as the man pulls away from you slowly. Blinking at the screen, your stomach plummets. Fuck. It’s your best friend…and she never calls.
You press the green circle immediately, mouthing a pained “sorry” to a now confused looking, hot and bothered man.
“Hey,” you answer with a little more agitation than you intended, and you immediately feel horrible when you hear your friend’s sobs on the other end of the line. She’s in hysterics, barely able to get out that she’s just found her boyfriend in bed with another girl.
“It’s okay, everything’s going to be okay,” you soothe, completely turning your attention to her and away from your would-be party fuckmate.
“Do you want me to come pick you up?” you offer. Mr. tall, dark, and hot audibly huffs, looking to you with narrowed eyes.
“Please,” your friend hiccups on the phone.
“I’ll be there in 10. Sit tight, don’t worry.” You hang up, pocketing your phone and turning your attention back to the man in front of you. He doesn’t look…thrilled.
“I’m so sorry, I have to go,” you say with a pained expression, eyeing the bulge in his jeans and thinking of your own wetness already gathered between your thighs. You swallow. Fuck. You were really looking forward to having this guy inside you 30 seconds ago. Why tonight? Gonna murder that cheating motherfucker…
“Really,” he says flatly, crossing his arms.
“Best friend emergency,” you explain pleadingly, already turning to open the bathroom door. Just get this over with as quickly as possible, the less time you have to spend looking at this guy and thinking about fucking him, the easier it’ll be to leave…
You barely hear his mumbled “sure” as you hurry out, taking two steps at a time to try to get to the fresh air and a cab. You definitely don’t hear him when he calls after you down the stairs, thinking at the last minute to try for your name and number. You’re already out the front door of whoever’s apartment this is, stomping down the street with frustration--both at your friend’s cheating asshole boyfriend, and the sexual kind.
And Adam Sackler is left alone, the sting of rejection running hot through his body.
____________________________________________________________________________
THREE MONTHS LATER
“Hey Sackler! Last one and then we’re calling it for the day.”
“Alright Carl.”
Adam nods to the casting director from several feet away. Just a week ago, he’d landed his first lead role in a small play off-Broadway, and the cast’s roster had filled up quickly...only one role left to cast, and there had been a line of women out the door all day.
“Hey, take a load off. Come sit, sit,” Carl calls, clearing a chair next to him from the front row of the theater, “you’ve been rehearsing all day, everyone else is gone, man! Come watch this one. Tell me if she’s any good.” The sweaty man winks and pats the seat beside him.
Adam ambles over a little hesitantly, still getting used to being here, being a real actor, someone wanting him in their play. He folds himself into the too-small theatre seat next to Carl and rubs his hands over his jeans. Carl grins, slapping him on the shoulder.
“Think we’re gonna like this one. Director buddy of mine sent her over. Said she’s perfect for the role of Calista. But you’re the one who has to act with her onstage six nights a week, am I right?” Carl rambles. Adam chuckles in acknowledgement. He really just wants to get back to rehearsing, or maybe even go home. But he’s stuck here now.
“Alright, sweetheart!!! Come on out!” Carl’s voice booms and startles Adam, jumping in his seat and whipping his head to the stage. The sharp click-clack of heels comes from stage right as Adam sees the actress make her way out onto the stage.
And he sits bolt upright.
It’s you. It’s fucking... you. The girl from the party a few months back, the one who faked that fucking “emergency” phone call because you decided at the last minute you didn’t want to fuck him. The one who ignored him when he called after you down the stairs to try and get your name and number.
Adam’s entire body tenses, his hands gripping tightly into the velvet arms of the chair. He looks at Carl, who’s grinning and nodding at you onstage, and Adam realizes you’re talking, stating your name and explaining the monologue you’ll be performing from the play. You haven’t noticed him yet, and Adam makes the quick decision to keep it that way...for now.
Adam settles into his seat while you begin your monologue. You’re painfully flawless. Adam wonders how you’re even auditioning for this shitty off-Broadway play instead of headlining some huge production. But shit, he can’t fucking work with you. No way in hell, not after you--
“She’s fantastic , huh?” Carl interrupts Adam’s thoughts, excitedly elbowing him in the side. Adam thinks fast, trying to throw something together, and pulls his face into a scowl.
“What? She’s fucking terrible, Carl,” Adam huffs, as if Carl just said the most ludicrous thing in the world.
Carl stares at him, bewildered.
“You serious, Sackler?! She’s the best I’ve seen!” Carl whispers loudly. You’re still finishing up and Adam notices you narrowing your eyes into the front row, but he has his head turned towards Carl.
“Well she’s...ugly?” Adam has a hard time even getting the words out. He knows you’re stunning and he’s grasping at straws now.
Carl openly whoops with laughter now, causing you to stop before the last few lines of your monologue.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Carl cackles, “this guy’s lost it. You can stop there. That was perfect.”
Adam glowers, turning his face towards you and the stage now. He catches your eye and they widen in shock from above him as he crosses his arms over his chest.
You can’t help the “oh, fuck” that slips out and Adam gives an eye roll and puffs air out of his nose in response.
Carl stops laughing, noticing the exchange and looking from you to Adam.
“Wait. Do you two know each other?” he asks.
“Not really ,” Adam hisses at the same time you say “uhhhhh” and Carl claps his hands together in excitement.
“Well, isn’t this just perfect!” Carl exclaims. “Sweetheart, you got the part.”
Your face lights up and immediately falls when you look to Adam, who looks like he’s about to strangle Carl.
“I think you two should catch up while I go grab some dinner, eh? I’ll be back in, say, an hour?” Carl says, standing up and looking at his watch, already starting to move toward the theatre exit.
“Carl, wait--” Adam blurts, standing as well.
“Ah, ah, get to work with your new Calista, Sackler! Damn, I’m a genius!” Carl trails off as he disappears to the back door, leaving you and Adam alone in an empty theater.
Adam turns to you, still on stage and glares, not saying a word. He stomps out of the front row, headed straight for backstage to his dressing room.
“Wait! Sack...Sackler? Please!” you call after him, jogging off stage right and down the little ramp to catch up with him backstage. It’s not hard in the small theater, and you find him with his hand on a door labeled with a handwritten sign reading “Adam Sackler.”
He looks down at you and grits his teeth.
“What?” he barks.
“Hey! What the fuck is your problem?” you demand with a little hurt in your voice.
“What the fuck is my problem?” he growls, taking his hand off the door and moving a little too close to you, “ I’m not the one who faked a phone call to get out of...what we were doing. You could’ve just told me if you didn’t want to fuck me,” he rants.
You blink back at him and almost laugh. This is why he’s so salty? If he only knew how you had to get yourself off four times later that night, thinking of his hands between your legs…
“And then I called after you down the stairs and you just fuckin’ ignored me--”
“Shut up. Shut up,” you interrupt him, shaking your head and he looks at you with an open mouth and narrow eyes. “That was a real phone call, you idiot. I had to go to my best friend. I wanted to fuck you. ”
His chest heaves and fire flashes across his eyes before you feel yourself being crushed against the outside of his dressing room door, giving you flashbacks of that first night. He’s going to finish it this time.
Lips and teeth attach to your neck, forcing you to elongate it to give him more access, more skin to suck and bite. Your hands reach out to hold onto his hips, but he catches both of your wrists in one of his massive hands, and you find both of your arms quickly pinned above your head against the door. His other hand reaches out to cup your jaw, tilting your face to look directly into his eyes.
“Wanted you so bad that night. Want you now,” he growls, moving his hand down between your tits and trailing to the waistline of your pants, “been fucking my fist for months thinking about you,” he murmurs.
You whimper at this and jerk your hands from under his grip just slightly, but he just tightens his fingers, pressing your arms harder into the firm surface.
“Please,” you whine, pushing your hips forward against his hand undoing your pants. He grins and pushes them down, along with your panties, leaving your bottom half bare in front of him.
You glance down at his fingers, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. You had been so close to having them inside you before, and now you were going to get them. You watch as he makes a show of sucking two fingers into his mouth, not that he needs to with how fucking wet you are right now, and then slowly lowers them back down to your pussy.
Your eyes roll back in your head when he slides the long digits through your slick lips, gliding along your clit in the process, but wasting no time in dipping them straight inside your cunt.
“ Fuuhhuuucckkkk, ” he groans, pumping in and out of you slowly, “you do want to fuck me, huh?” he grins wickedly and you buck against him greedily, desperate for more.
“Yes, Adam. Want your cock, ” you pant, unashamed. The look in his eyes is dangerous as he pulls his fingers from your core, smearing them along your lower belly. You’re flipped suddenly, his hand never leaving its bind on your wrists, and now he has your face crowded against the door with your ass pressing into his crotch.
“You want my cock, huh?” he teases, and you feel his hand slip between your ass and his pants. The jingle of his belt buckle and zing of his zipper make you clench in anticipation and suddenly you feel him, hot and hard pressing between the cleft of your ass. His hand finally releases your wrists and both of your hands slam against the door to brace yourself as you feel all of his fingers behind you, slowly parting your cheeks and sighing out deeply through his nose.
“Jeeeeeezus Christ,” he breathes, admiring your wet cunt on display for him, “perfect, wet fuckin’ pussy.”
You can feel him grip his cock in one hand while the other keeps you spread wide open for him, and then he’s at your entrance. Your wetness almost pulls him right in but he holds back, gripping your side and leveraging himself first. But that’s all the time you give him before pushing back against him, sheathing him inside you in one stroke and relishing in the deep groan that rises up from his throat.
“Fuck!” he cries, falling forward against your back and only pushing himself deeper. You’re so slick he barely has to move, but oh, he moves, fucking into you at a pace you’ll feel tomorrow.
“Gonna fuck you every fuckin’ day,” he growls into your ear, getting more worked up as he pounds you, “in every-- shit-- in every corner of this theatre. Won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”
Your breath hitches on a moan, thinking of getting to fuck him every day. Of sneaking around and letting him get you off during intermissions every night. Of letting him eat you out in the shower after a show. Fuck, you hadn’t even made it inside his dressing room yet…
“Fuck, Adam--” you whimper, tensing up on his cock. You can feel him start to twitch inside you, little stutters in his thrusts becoming uneven.
“Yeah? You gonna cum? Fuck, cum all over my cock, gonna make me cum. It’s all I’ve thought about these past three months.”
You cry out, spasming on him as it crashes down on you, the pent up frustration from months before, the anxiety of your audition, the feel of him now. Everything releases at once and you gush and clench around him. You feel him let go immediately, a feral groan wrenching from his chest as warmth floods your cunt and he pulses inside you, sending little aftersparks through you.
You’re both panting as he peels himself from your back, still inside you.
“I, um, may have said your audition was terrible,” he mumbles sheepishly, notching his chin over your shoulder.
“What?!” you squeak, offended.
“ Obviously it wasn’t,” he says, nipping at your ear, “and Carl loves you. Might have to fight him for you,” he teases.
“Nah,” you say quietly, “you’ve got me.”