Work Text:
“What a waste of an evening that was.” You announce, arriving back inside your apartment. You chuck your keys onto the small side table by the front door and huff as you unzip a high-heeled boot, your slight tipsiness making the simple task a challenge.
“Found a keeper then?” Sam says sarcastically from the couch, glancing over the top of whatever book he was currently reading. The TV was on, quietly playing some sort of historical documentary- the kind of thing he always put on when he had control over the screen.
You wrestle your other boot off and place them on the shoe rack, then walk into the kitchen area, pulling out a half-finished bottle of cheap wine from the fridge.
“Firstly, he turned up half an hour late,” you glance over at the pile of dishes in the sink, sighing again as you realise that there are no clean glasses. “And then when he eventually turned up, he was a total catfish!” You screw the lid off of the bottle, and take a hasty swig, wincing at the taste before wiping an accidental drip down off of your chin with the back of your hand. You look over at Sam as he shakes his head disapprovingly, eyes still on his book.
“So, giving him the benefit of the doubt, I stay and try to make conversation- you know, see if he can redeem himself with an amazing personality or something.” Pausing your rant to take another sip of wine, you see Sam’s eyebrow raise to accompany his snigger. “Turns out the asshole is a complete misogynist.” You take a seat on the arm of the couch that Sam’s sat on.
“He kept going on about his body count, like it’s some kind of huge turn on, and then he wouldn’t stop drooling over my tits! Jesus, for someone who claimed to have fucked hundreds of women, he could hardly contain himself at a few centimetres of cleavage.” A mirthless chuckle of disbelief leaves your lips as Sam sits up, closing his book. “Ugh.” Another swig.
He holds his hand out towards you, gesturing towards the wine. You look at him, and then the bottle. You roll your eyes. “Fine. But you’re buying the next one.” Sam grins as you pass him the wine. He takes a large sip, before grimacing, reading the label with a discerning expression.
He places the bottle onto the coffee table. “You sure do know how to pick ‘em, don’t’cha?”
You slide down so you’re now next to him, pursing your lips at Sam’s comment, inclined to agree.
“Men, I mean. Though, improvement on the wine picking front wouldn’t go amiss.”
You roll your eyes again, this time with a smile threatening to show at the corner of your mouth. “Har har. Budge.”
You nudge Sam with your elbow, wiggling closer. He instinctively opens out an arm, inviting you to lean into him, which you accept.
This wasn’t an unusual thing for you both to do. Ever since Sam moved into your apartment almost two years ago, you’d developed a close friendship; confiding in each other about every inconvenience in your life, whilst, of course, upholding an endearing, yet completely unserious kind of flirtation around each other.
You sigh, closing your eyes as your head rests on his chest, rubbing your temples with your thumb and middle finger respectively.
Sam absentmindedly twirls a strand of your hair around a forefinger, his eyes fixated on the TV. “I think it might be time to delete that shitty app, doll. What is it…Twine? Tindall?”
You scoff. “Tinder, Sam.” Your eyes open and you look up at him. “Not all of us are capable of throwing caution to the wind, and just approaching some random at a bar.”
“Nyeh, that’s bull.” Sam retorts.
“You walk into a bar with me right now, and I guarantee you’d be first to leave with a date.”
“Hmm. Date’s probably not the term I’d use. Besides, you’ve got youth and beauty on your side. You’re a catch.” You shake your head, tilting your body to reach the shitty wine from the table.
“Yeah, yeah, as if you don’t know your roguish looks and endless charisma make you hot.” You rest a palm on Sam’s thigh to hold yourself up as you take a generous glug. What? You’re just speaking the truth.
He quirks an eyebrow in your direction, His eyes are now on your hand. You don’t notice his focus switch to your lips as you drink from the bottle. He shifts slightly.
Still holding the bottle, you lay your head on Sam’s shoulder. He pulls the bottle from your hand and takes a few more swigs himself, not enjoying the wine remotely, but drinking with the hope that it would clarify the multitude of thoughts going through his mind.
“Ugh, I just want to get fucked.” You groan. Sam grins, his chest shaking with the small laugh he lets out. “I don’t even care about the relationship part any more. I’m over it.”
“Hey, I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again. If you’re just after a good fuck, no strings attached, then I’m your guy.”
You giggle, leaning away from Sam to look at him with a look that says ‘don’t be ridiculous’, but he only looks back at you with raised eyebrows, sincerity taking over the rest of his features.
“You were always just chatting shit, though.” You laugh nervously. He shrugs at your statement, pushing himself up from the couch and stretching his arms behind his shoulders. You gulp, and you let out a nervous huff of laughter, unsure of where to look, though your eyes fail to avoid grazing over the exposed patch of toned torso above his belt. You look back to the bottle, taking another swig to try and cover your flushed face.
Flushed due to the alcohol, or whatever this feeling was?
“Instead,” Sam continued, squinting in thought, doing that contemplative pout that you’ve always thought highly of. “You could keep going on these godawful tinder dates, and come home telling me how sexually frustrated you are.”
You scratch the back of your neck as Sam walks towards his bedroom. You’re dumbfounded.
“Or, even worse,” He calls from his open bedroom door. “You bring them back here, and I have to endure thirty awful minutes of some moron struggling to get you off.” He re-emerges from his bedroom having removed his shirt. “Which, I’m sure, is embarrassing for the both of us.”
Your widened eyes follow him as he walks over to the kitchen sink, rinses a dirty glass and fills it with water. He begins to walk back towards you, nothing but nonchalance written all over his face.
You’d seen him shirtless countless times. It was almost his natural state whilst he was home, and whilst you’d always secretly admired his physique, for some reason you felt extremely heated looking at him now. What’s in this wine?
Your lips part slightly as you watch his adam’s apple bob up and down whilst he drinks. He reaches the coffee table, and places his glass down, before standing in front of you.
“You’ve had enough of that shit, don’t you think?” He tilts his head in question, seriousness taking over his expression.
You finally muster up some words. “E-enough…of the guys?” You look up at him as he raises his eyebrows, spurring you on to continue. “I…I mean, I’m sure I’ll find someone who can-”
He crouches to your level, cutting you off. “Oh, I don’t doubt it, sweetheart.” He says, patting your thigh with a smirk that has your throat dry out instantaneously. He takes the bottle from your now sweaty hand, standing back up. “But I was talking about the wine.” He screws the cap back on, and takes it back to the fridge, leaving you looking at the ground, flustered.
“Or was I?” He says, regaining your attention as he looks over his shoulder to you with a look of mock-confusion.
“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I’m always just chatting shit, right?”
You finally stand up, wiping your hands on your jeans as you pick up Sam’s empty glass, trudging past him to refill it. Looking at the water, you question “What is this? What- what are you doing, Sam?”
You stiffen as you feel a hand on your upper arm. “This?” Sam reaches around you, turning off the water. “This is a faucet.” You brush off his arm and turn around, putting the glass aside as you let his extremely close proximity sink in. You try to frown, but the knowledge that he has you caged in by his arms makes it hard to keep your focus on check. “And I’m not doing anything.” He tilts his head, his eyes looking directly into yours.
You’re a rabbit in the middle of the street, and he’s driving towards you, well over the speed limit.
He goes in for the kill. “Why? Am I having some sort of effect on you, doll?”
Maybe you’re mistaken, but you think his eyes dart down to your lips and back to your eyes.
You try the if I ignore it, it’ll go away stance, and let your eyes shut.
Shit. Maybe you can ignore his presence, but you can’t ignore the growing heat between your thighs as you squeeze them together.
You hear him huff a smug laugh through his nose, and feel him move away from you.
Fuck it.
Before he can get too far, you grab him by a belt loop and reach up, pulling on his neck so he’s down to your level. You kiss him.
His lips are far softer than you thought they’d be.
His hands meet your waist, and you expect him to pull you in closer, but instead, he pushes on you, stopping you in your tracks.
Oh no.
Sam looks down to you, bemused. You look up at him, your mouth opening and closing in search of words.
“You- you were joking, weren’t you?” You gulp, humiliated, your eyes fixating on the most prominent of his scars on his abdomen, unable to make eye contact. Of course the bastard just wanted to display his flirtatious prowess to show you how it should be done. He wasn’t being serious! Why on earth would he want you to ruin your friendship like this. You can’t believe he-
Your stream of self-deprecating consciousness is interrupted as Sam’s hands meet your neck and hip respectively, pulling you back towards him. He kisses you, hard, and you’re completely taken aback, your face aflame from a mixture of embarrassment and exhilaration.
It isn’t until his tongue pushes it’s way between your lips that you fully grasp onto what’s happening. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, reaching up to knot your fingers into his hair, as his hands travel slowly down the sides of your body. You taste, surprise surprise, tobacco, and the remnants of the wine he stole from you as you find your tongue meeting his.
Sam bends slightly, and once he meets the backs of your thighs, hoists you up so you’re in his arms. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, and he supports your back with an arm, his other hand cupping your ass.
Your coccyx is leaning against the microwave, and you tug Sam even closer to you. He grins into the kiss as his denim-clad bulge meets the seam of your jeans.
He pulls away again, this time with a smirk on his face.
“I’d love to fuck you here, but the kitchen’s already untidy enough.”
You let out an embarrassingly shaky laugh, “So...take me where the magic happens.” and before you know it, a heightened scent of laundry powder and tobacco signals that you’ve entered Sam’s bedroom.
He lowers you onto the foot of the bed, and towers over you. “Shirt. Off.”
You shift up the bed and do as you’re told, discarding it onto the floor, looking back to Sam as he smirks at your lacy bra- worn obviously with the hope that your prior date would've been more of a success.
He climbs over you, and you lie back, tugging Sam down to you by his belt. He hovers on top of you, keeping himself slightly elevated with his elbow, and snakes his other arm underneath you as you kiss again.
You fumble around with his belt, clumsily undoing the buckle and unthreading it slightly.
Before you can go any further, Sam’s got your wrist in a tight hold, forcing your arm away from his jeans, and up over your head. You look at him, mildly shocked. He shakes his head at you, eyes narrowed.
“No, no, no. Not yet.” He smirks.
You pout, brows furrowed.
“Don’t give me that look.”
“But I want-”
“No.”
His sudden firm tone makes you shrink further into the bed. You swallow, tilting your head up to look at how he’s holding your wrist.
“Here’s how this is going to go.” He starts, tilting his head sideways as a look of concentration plasters over his face. Within a couple of seconds, you feel your bra unhook, and you look back to him in shock. Impressive.
“You said you wanted to get fucked, right? You’re going to do exactly what I tell you, then-” He stops, following your gaze. “You seem to have a distinct fascination with my belt.”
“I just-” You start, but the devious look he gives you renders you speechless. You’re actually beginning to ache. Ache. That’s never happened before.
“You want me to take it off so bad? Fine.” He sits back on his knees, straddled over you as he removes the belt completely. You shift around, now free from his grip, and remove your bra fully. Crawling back over you, Sam grabs your wrist like before, this time, grabbing the other too as he holds the belt between his teeth. He glances down to your breasts, unable to control his growing smirk, then back up at your arms.
“Oh my god.” You whisper, looking up as he holds your wrists up to the slatted headboard. He takes the belt out of his mouth as he holds your arms in place with his other hand, before he fastens your wrists to the bed with it, as tight as he can.
You gaze up at him with wide eyes, giving your wrists an experimental pull, to no avail. Your chest tightens.
He rubs his hand over his chin, grinning darkly down at you with a chuckle.
“Sammm.” You whine, albeit nervously, which he can sense. His smile fades as he rolls beside you.
“You okay with this?” He mutters, briefly back to his usual tone.
You nod in response, almost too eagerly. “Yes I’m good. Just-” You look down at yourself, dying for any kind of friction to happen between your legs. “Just do something…please.”
He smiles smugly, holding himself up. “Sure thing, Princess.”
You watch as a large hand covers your breast. You try to suppress a moan as he gives it a hard squeeze, before letting go and rolling a perfectly calloused thumb back and forth over your nipple. After a moment, his hand moves over to your opposite side, and repeats the same actions on your other breast. You tilt your head back, closing your eyes, basking in the moment.
You release a hum of satisfaction as you feel Sam’s warm tongue glide over a nipple, swirling for a moment, until he bites it lightly, his eyes looking up to watch your brows knit together in mixed pain and pleasure as he pulls on your breast with his teeth, releasing it with a ‘pop’.
You can’t help but moan quietly as he bites and sucks again, and you look down as you feel his other hand drift down your stomach, eventually reaching the button of your jeans. You wriggle restlessly. He unbuttons them with all the expertise of someone who’s done this countless times, and trails his hand down until he meets the top of your thigh. He traces small circles everywhere but where you want him to be, and you shift your hips around slightly.
“Fuck, Sam. Come on.” You groan. He pulls his hand out of your jeans and sits up, giving you a smug grin. Irritated, you sigh, blowing some of your hair off of your face in the process, giving your wrists a frustrated tug as Sam moves back on top of you.
“Hey, be patient. Nobody’s in a rush.” He says, casually, running his hands down your sides as you writhe, desperate.
Then, Sam gets a hold of your jeans and, with a swift tug, they’re off. You gasp, looking up at him as he takes you in- now only wearing your panties and socks, you feel exposed, and your cheeks flush again.
“Well, aren’t you pretty.” He smirks, dipping back down to your level. He kisses you again, and as you feel his fingers move up the front of your underwear you grunt. Sam bites on your bottom lip, pulling away and letting go with a grin.
“Oh, sweetheart,” He speaks, hovering his face over yours as you breathe deeply. “you’re soaking.”
He traces a thumb over your bottom lip, and you try to lurch your head upwards to kiss him again- half to shut him up, and half to hide your embarrassment- but he moves just out of reach, glaring down at you. “Must’ve been thinking about this for quite some time, huh?”
You muster up a smartass response in your head, but all that ends up leaving your lips is a garbled moan as Sam pushes your panties aside and begins to lightly trace your clit with his thumb. Your eyes roll backwards as Sam finally dips two fingers inside you, and begins pumping in and out slowly. “Hmm.” He murmurs, still hovering over you. “I’m surprised you haven’t come already. Given how fuckin’ wet you are.” He teases, with all the apathy one would have when engaging in small talk.
“Sh-shut up.” You stammer, your eyes squeezing shut. He sets a steady pace, smiling to himself as you let out a string of strangled moans. Sam begins to pepper a trail of kisses across your jawline, leading down to your neck as you become more restless, your heart rate rapidly increasing.
“I think I’m gonna-I’m-gonna cum.” You breathe, unsteadily, and Sam lifts his head up.
Just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he pulls his hand away from you with a mischievous smile on his face.
“Wh-What the fuck, Sam?” You exclaim, almost on the brink of tears from how pent up you’re becoming.
“That’s for telling me to shut up.” He says, getting off of the bed, and walking towards his bedroom door. You glare at him in disarray.
“Wait! What are you- where are you going?!” You ask, tugging at your bonds as he leaves the room. “Sam for fuck’s sake!” You shout, getting angrier by the second.
He walks back into the room and you glare at him, dumfounded. You become horrified when you see what he’s holding.
“Hey, what? That’s mine! Where did you get-”
“You’re not very creative, doll. I mean, vibrator in your bedside drawer?” He says, holding the toy out in front of him, as if he were inspecting it.
You’re blushing harder than you think you’ve ever blushed before, your rather compromising position leaving you unable to give him the smack across the face he deserved. “I-” you stammer, lost for words. He chucks your vibrator onto his bed, kneeling in front of you again, and begins pulling down your panties. “I can’t fucking believe you just-”
“Shut up.” He mutters, balling your underwear up, holding your chin and shoving them into your mouth. You glare at him with a face like thunder, and try to mutter expletives through your makeshift gag, but you’re ignored.
You watch as Sam finds a button and presses it, lowering it towards your now bare pussy, and you can’t help but moan as it connects with your throbbing clit. You feel yourself cave again, and you can’t help but let your anger subside as you finally re-approach your missing climax.
Arching your back, your moans become higher pitched as your movement becomes more sporadic. “Fuuuuck.” You muffle, getting dangerously close to the edge.
Much to your frustration, Sam stops the toy, and in turn, stops you from reaching your orgasm. Again. You can’t help but thrash your legs about at him in an attempt to kick the cocky bastard. He discards the vibrator and grabs your shins, pinning them down. “Asshole.” You mutter through your panties, looking at him, narrow eyed.
“Do I have to tie your goddamn legs up as well?” He speaks, with so much heat you feel like you could combust right there. Suddenly flustered, you shake your head ‘no’, as he lets go of your legs. “Thought not.”
He stands again, and you watch on helplessly as he begins to unbutton his jeans. As his erection becomes even more prominent through his boxers you feel yourself drool a little, dampening your panties even more.
Sam slips off his underwear and brings a hand up to his cock, and suddenly it’s no wonder why you hear the things you do whenever he brings some lucky woman home.
You’re unsure of where to look as he begins to jerk himself off; his dark eyes, staring you up and down, his parted lips, or his flexing abdomen. Of course, the most viable option was the impressive contents of his fist, which you ended up fixated on for a few seconds.
You tug on your restraint because- Jesus Christ- you’ve never wanted to push someone to the ground and ride them ’til you both cry more than you have at this moment. But of course, you’re stuck.
“What?” He asks, looking you in the eye. He moves to you and climbs on top, as your eyes flicker between his fist and his smug expression. “Speechless all of a sudden?” Teasing prick. You grunt in annoyance.
Sam lowers himself over you, and your lower half bucks impatiently. He stills you with a gentle stroke to the jaw, and you let out a muffled plea as you feel him rub the head of his dick up and down your sensitive slit.
You feel him still and line up with your entrance, and for what he currently lacks in movement, you make up for with the rapidity of your heart rate.
He looks at the unsteady rise and fall of your chest, and admires your struggle just a little longer, before he comes down to your level. “Are you gonna take me like a good girl?”
You nod rapidly, wide eyed, with a muffled ‘yes’; your desperation making Sam bite his cheek to prevent him from smiling too hard. “So needy.” He teases.
Reaching up and tugging the panties out of your mouth chucking them aside, Sam’s unable to control his snicker when he sees the string of saliva that comes out with them.
He traces his thumb over your bottom lip again, wiping any traces of drool before leaning down to kiss you. You respond hungrily, reaching up to him as much as you can with your hands tied, your head sinking into the pillow as he lunges down further, tongues meeting.
A slow push from Sam has you letting out a choked sob into his mouth, and as his cock finally fills you out, your nails dig into your palms.
It’s a significant stretch, but you’re so wet that any semblance of discomfort is diminished.
He pulls his lips from yours and looks you in the eyes, breathing deeply. He braces his arms either side of your head, and pulls out of you. You whine, feeling uncomfortably empty.
The emptiness doesn’t last long as Sam drives himself back into you with a quiet grunt.
You can’t help but let out a guttural moan as he begins to build up the pace a little, rolling your head backwards as you revel in the feeling.
A string of expletives leave the two of you as Sam’s pace becomes increasingly more merciless. The headboard rattles violently. Not that you give a fuck.
“Ho-oly shit.” You rasp, as Sam somehow manages to hit you even deeper, winding you slightly.
You’re desperate to be clawing at his back as he leans back and grabs a hold of your thighs pushing them up to your chest, and he knows it. “So good.” He murmurs, watching his cock repeatedly disappear into you. “You feel so…fucking good.” You can only respond with another ramble of moans.
Just as you’re getting close again, he pulls out and leaves you clenching around nothing as your legs flop back onto the bed. You whine in protest, but as Sam leans over you and begins to undo the belt, you can’t help but expel a breathy laugh of relief.
You’re slightly dazed as he grabs your waist and pulls you up to him before you can flex your free wrists. His hands roam down to your ass, giving it a rough squeeze as you push your lips to his again, grabbing a hold of his length, pumping it up and down for a moment before you pull your mouth away from his.
With renewed confidence from your free state, your free hand makes its way over the trail of hair starting on his lower stomach, up to his’s chest. Sam watches feverishly as you place a line of kisses up from the star under his shoulder, to the birds on his neck, pushing your weight up onto him so he begins to lay back as you continue handling his dick.
“Can’t say I haven’t dreamt about this.” Sam smirks as his head meets the foot of his bed, gripping onto your waist as you let go and straddle him.
“Pervert.” You jest, your voice gravelly due to all the strain you’d been putting on it. He chuckles, the sound sending warmth through your entire body.
“Don’t push it sweetheart.” He smirks, with a light smack to your ass.
His smile wavers as you sink onto him, and begin rolling your hips in a steady rhythm. You hum in pleasure.
Now it’s Sam’s turn for his head to drop back against the bed, giving you the perfect view of his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he cusses and groans. “Don’t stop, sweetheart-sh-shit.” He closes his eyes, dropping an arm to the bed while the other remains held around you.
You want to move faster, but as you watch him in such a vulnerable state, you can’t help but attempt to get your own back for the edging shit show he’s just treated you to. With a smirk, you slow down, eventually stilling, bracing your arms on his chest.
He opens one eye and looks at you. He opens the other. You bite your lip and smirk down at him.
“What are you doing?” He breathes, brows furrowed, chest heaving. “Keep going.”
“But, sweetheart.” You mock, a faux-confused expression on your face as you look upwards in thought. He squeezes your waist and clenches his jaw.
“I said don’t push it.” He warns. You ignore him.
”I thought you said 'be patient'?”
Sam glares up at you, jaw flexing, eyes dark, as he hoists himself up onto his forearms. This look sees tendrils of adrenaline coursing through you, as you begin to lean forwards again, but as you do, a tight grip on your waist and a hard yank on the roots of your hair send you rolling onto your back. Your head hangs off the edge of the bed, but Sam pulls your head up by your hair to look at him.
He hovers, and you feel him twitch, still buried inside you- he has a dark, dark look in his eyes.
“You just pushed it, babe.”
You can’t help but feel even more aroused as Sam begins thrusting at an almost animalistic pace, letting go of your hair to brace himself on the mattress. You cry out, instinctively wrapping your arms and legs around his back, allowing him to rut even deeper, hitting a spot that you don’t think has ever been hit before.
The sound of flesh on flesh fills the room; that, and your moans completely drown out the TV in the living room.
An arm snakes up your chest, and before you can do anything, Sam’s squeezing the sides of your throat- not too hard, but hard enough that your eyes are sent rolling backwards, and your brain begins to feel gloriously fizzy.
Still choking you, he stops thrusting, and pulls out, immediately finding your swollen clit with his fingers. He begins flicking almost violently, sending you into a series of broken gargles as you’re brought closer to your precipice, your arms flopping outwards onto the bed.
As he continues rubbing, he lays onto you, his chest crushing your breasts as he rests his head in the crook of your neck.
“You know how thin these walls are, don’t you, doll?” Sam suddenly mutters into your ear. The extreme stimulation that you’re experiencing means you can only listen to him as he continues.
“Every time you use that damn vibrator, I can hear it.”
You’ve never felt so wildly turned on in your life as your tongue threatens to loll out of your mouth, Sam's tone only adding to the sensation.
“I can hear how you try to muffle those pretty little noises you make.” Oh shit, you think, and you feel even more heat rise to your cheeks, if that was even possible.
“And I can hear the end of every fucking date you bring back here. And how goddamn awful they all are at making you feel good.” He speaks, hungrily.
“My cock gets rock hard just thinking about showing you how it’s done.”
This revelation makes a dizzy smile grow on your parted lips as you gargle out a long moan.
Your legs are shaking, and you desperately try and wiggle your hips to get even more friction, growing more and more desperate to reach your hideously long-awaited climax. You bring your hands up to Sam’s arm, grabbing on for dear life as you begin to see white spots appear in your vision.
“F-fuck, Sam. Please.” You somehow manage to whimper, entirely unbothered by how helpless you sound.
You can feel the smirk growing on his face as he nips at the side of your neck. He slows his fingers down, making you squeak desperately.
“Please what?” He drawls, breathing deeply, slightly relenting his grip on your throat.
“P-please-” you gasp out pathetically.
“Use your words, Sweetheart.” Sam encourages, albeit slyly, his lips still ghosting your neck.
“I w-wanna cum.” You sputter, tears threatening to spill. “Please, Sam, let me- I- I need to cum.”
He smirks. “Aw. Since you asked so nicely.”
“Oh shhhhit.” You manage to squeak out as his fingers move at a feverish pace again. Sam growls, letting go of your throat to angle his cock back inside, wanting to feel you come around him.
You hold your breath as he pounds into you, and you dig your nails into his upper back, setting off another beautiful array of sounds from Samuel, his fingers working as hard as his hips.
“Fu-fuck, g…gonna c-cum.” You whimper as you feel the coil in your stomach pull tighter and tighter.
“Go on, baby,” He grunts, “Let me s-see you cum for me.”
Within seconds, you’re crying out, pushed over the edge. Your ears are ringing as you reach your orgasm, and you convulse, falling apart completely underneath Sam.
Your walls squeeze around him for all they’re worth, and your cries begin to die down into choked huffs, letting Sam continue to thrust into you as he removes his hand from the equation, though he’s getting more fragmented in his movement.
“Holy fucking shit, I’m-” He buries his head back into your neck, and you entangle your fingers into his hair. “C-cumming.” He rasps, slowing his thrusts as he spills himself into you with a low moan.
You hum at the sensation, still spasming around him slightly, your head thrown back in a complete daze. He stops thrusting, keeping himself held inside you as you breathe sporadically.
Both entangled in a sweaty, heavily breathing mess, Sam’s first to speak after a beat.
“God damn.” His nose is whistling slightly. “That was…” He pulls his head up to look at you. “That was something, huh.”
You try to muster up words, but all that comes out is a strangled wheeze.
Sam laughs, pulling out of you with a slight wince. He gives your nipple a speculative pinch. "You alive?"
“Nghn.” you gurgle, lazily swatting his hand away.
“C’mere” He says, rolling you over so you’re on top of him. You manage to hold your head up for probably two seconds, before you slump down onto his shoulder.
“I’ve gotta say,” he tucks your hair behind your ear, before running his hand up and down your back. “Being completely dick-dumb is a very good look on you.”
“Go away. Ass.” You manage a mumble into his chest, drawing another snort from Sam.
You both lay for a moment, Sam still stroking your back, whilst you get your breath back on his chest.
“Did you mean it?” You eventually say, turning your head to see his face.
“Hmm?” He asks, eyes closed.
“Have you actually wanted to screw me before? Or was that just a heat of the moment thing?”
Sam sniffs. “I’ve wanted to screw you since you let me be your roommate.” He says, drenched in nonchalance.
You hum in understanding. “Took you two years to do anything about it, though.”
“Correct. I’m a fool.”
You scoff. “That makes two of us.”
“So,” your finger traces over Sam’s arm tattoo as he speaks. “You gonna delete that app now?”
You bite back a smile.
“Are you going to stop sleeping around?” You retort.
Sam feigns a wince, sitting the both of you up. “Oof, I don’t know. That’s a pretty big ask, Princess.” You shake your head, rolling your eyes at his response. He pulls you into him, placing a soft kiss on your lips.
Pulling away, Sam smirks again.
“I think we should fuck in your bed first, before I commit to such a request.”