Adam Sackler x Reader Compilation

Let Me Explain

Rating: Teen+

Pairing: Adam Sackler x Reader

Fandom: HBO's Girls

Tags: Light Angst, Happy Ending

Published: 7/16/19

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"Whoa, let me explain!" Adam implored while teetering in patent leather stilettos, a chef's knife with slices of carrot sticking to it in his hand. He grabbed the kitchen counter with his left to steady himself.

The smart speaker on top of the fridge was still blasting "Barbie Girl" as if neighbors weren't a thing. Or that no one had ever complained about the noise he made. Because it was always him.

You, on the other hand, were very much aware of how much of a racket he must've been making before you came home. You'd heard his deep baritone bellow, "Come on, Barbie, let's go party!" from the hallway door.

He cut quite the figure, too. He was wearing a pair of old, stained khakis chopped at the knee with a faded navy-blue tank over it. The shiny black high-heels really added to the whole outfit, in your opinion. And they made him incredibly tall.

Plus, his calves looked really hot.

You wondered how he'd found stilettos for his ginormous feet. You couldn't believe that was your first concern. Not why was Adam wearing heels, but where had he found them.

"Okaaaay," you agreed. "Explain."

He put down the knife and lumbered over to the fridge to mess with the smart speaker. The music got louder. Then abruptly cut off. The silence made you aware of each clack of the heels as he turned.

"My agent sent me to an audition yesterday," Adam stated.

You knew this. You'd helped him with his monologue and rusty British accent. He'd had to sing too, so there was a desperate scramble to find a suitable piece with a good chorus and a few drawn-out notes to show off his nice voice.

At the time, you hadn't asked about the part nor the play. He'd told you when you'd first met that talking about auditions too much jinxes them for him.

You looked at his shoes with a smirk. "I'm assuming you got the job."

"Well..." He shrugged and looked down, pointing a foot. "Eh, it's more of a pick-me-up."

"Aw, honey, why didn't you say you needed some retail therapy?"

Adam shared a smile with you. His chiseled cheeks were flushed. His eyes dazzled in the afternoon sunlight.

"So really, why are you wearing those?" you asked with a nod to his new heels.

"The Kinky Boots short revival needed a Charlie—"

Your eyes went wide before you screeched and ran for him. "Kinky Boots!"

You'd seen the play when it'd first opened—before you'd met Adam. The actor playing Lola had been wonderful. All the drag queens, too. It had been a fun night and something you'd never forgotten.

He let out a chuckled "oof" as you hugged his tight waist. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder while the other kept him from falling over. Your head could just rest on his chest. He really was so much taller in heels.

"The original Charlie isn't available," he softly explained. "And the understudy moved to fucking Arizona."

"Of all places." You rested your chin on his breastbone as you commented, "This isn't your usual role."

He hummed with a shrug. "One last hurrah before Hollywood?"

Despite the excellent news, selfish dread blotted out your excitement. You pulled back. "What's going on, Adam?"

He gnawed on his bottom lip as his hand swept over your shoulder to cup the nape of your neck. "I have another audition next week..."

"And it's in LA?"

"It's a Jordan Peele project. He asked to talk to me, actually. If it works out, it could lead to more movie work..."

"And that means?"

"I won't be around much."

The thought of just you in the apartment. Only you. Adam would be out in beautiful California. Having the time of his life in pursuit of more success and making something with talented people. While you were here. In New York. At your shitty job that barely covered your portion of the rent. Wow, that stung.

"Oh." You let your arms drop from his waist. "Yeah. Of course." You gave him a brief smile as you blinked away the burn in your eyes. "Maybe I can visit you?"

"Visit me? What're you talking about, doll?" He put his big hands on either side of your face. "You're coming with me."

"Oh, I—uh... I didn't want to assume."

"Well, you should." He had to bend farther than usual to kiss you and almost stumbled into you. He cursed and kicked off a stiletto. You huffed out a little laugh and helped steady him as he toed off the other one.

Once stable, Adam stared into your eyes. "I don't want to do this without you."

You minutely nodded, wanting to sag against him. "Okay."

"Quit your job." He gave you a quick peck on the lips. "We'll move to LA." And then another. "Get a place in The Hills."

You licked the taste of carrots off your lips. "What if it doesn't work out?"

"We'll move back," he dismissed.

You weren't so sure it would be that easy. While you wanted to run away from the frustrations of New York, you knew there'd be similar frustrations in LA. The only difference was Adam would be a movie star and on-set most of the time.

As if reading your mind, he murmured a soft, reassuring "hey" and kissed you again. Long and slow; his fingers tunneled gently into your hair. You stepped closer and gripped his sides.

After a moment, you pulled back just enough to say: "Set up the movie part first, then we'll talk about me quitting my job."

"You don't think I can do it?" There was a hint of accusation in his question.

"I'm not saying that." You rolled your eyes. "I'm saying Jordan Peele may not see what I see."

"Which is...?"

You knew he was fishing for a compliment, the absolute jackass, but it didn't matter. You'd indulge him regardless.

"A smart, talented, insightful actor," you replied.

He peacocked just a little, his chest puffing out, as he tacked on, "Who has great taste."

You scrunched up your nose and made a noncommittal sound. "Usually."

"Usually?" He looked shocked as he straightened. "Usually?!" He grabbed your waist and pulled you flush against him. "If you saw my girlfriend, you'd know for sure I have the best taste—" He threw his head back. "—in the whole fucking world!"

You laughed as you reached for his lips to keep him from yelling further praises to his taste. Well, and to you—in general.

He caught your hand and kissed the palm. "I'll get that role, baby. And the next. And the next."

"Is that a guarantee?"

"Bet your sweet ass it is," he said as he dipped down to grasp at the back of your thighs and hoist you up his body.

You squealed and wrapped your limbs around him. Even after being together for over two years, you've yet to acclimate to his brute strength. He leaned towards you to offer a kiss as if he wasn't holding you close enough. But how could you resist? You kissed his plush lips and hugged him with your whole body. He purred into the kiss and stomped to the bedroom, dinner prep and breaking in his new shoes obviously forgotten.