a/n; last sam fic of kinktober but its a fun one :) I am so deeply in love with this fic and I am so excited to finally be sharing it with you guys. THIS IS FOR YOU LOVELIES ENJOY IT :)))))))
“I’ve been working on it, I swear,” Sam says through a laugh while you cackle on the couch, clutching your stomach.
“This is vulgar,” you get out, wiping at the corner of your eyes.
He gives you his signature pout, then rubs his hand through his hair, “But baby, I swear to you, I can do it now. I had time to kill in the hotel in L.A. so I-”
“Do you need to say it again?”
Sam gives you a pointed look but you know it’s in jest.
“Yes, babe. I really do. You laughed through my first explanation.”
“Sorry, sorry. Go on.” Once you gesture your hand for him to continue, his smile is back. He’s almost bouncing as he stands in front of the couch.
“Okay, so I had enough time and I was bored so I jacked off, blah blah blah, cue your whore allegations,” Sam speeds through his words and holds his hand out expectantly like he’s waiting for you to comment.
“You can be a whore, yes,” you give in to the spiel, having to bite down on the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling too much.
“Right, right, and you always poke fun at how I come so easily sometimes and how you can never edge me. And I know you don’t care about it that much, but I just got to thinking and I had the time, so I practiced and I can do it now,” he rambles, smiling, waiting for praise.
“Edge, I mean. I can hold off.”
You stare at him in silence for a few seconds too long and the moment you open your mouth to speak, Sam’s already talking again.
“Babe. I swear,” he says, putting his hands on his hips.
“I-”
“I think I would like to show you my new skills,” he interrupts. You’re pretty sure his smile has not left this entire time.
But you can’t blame him. You’re grinning too.
“Freak,” you tell him, pointing a finger at him that he playfully scoffs at, batting your hand away, only to grab your wrist and walk closer until he’s right in front of you.
Sam looks down at you and pats your head, “I think you will be more of a freak after this. You’ll get to torture me.”
“You have to get me in the mood. I was peacefully watching Bridgerton until you stormed in,” you pout up at him and he fixates on your jutted bottom lip, then looks back into your eyes.
“Do you wanna suck those guys off more than me?” Sam glances at the TV, Anthony Bridgerton in his literal glory on the scene. Good timing.
“No, Woodbridge,” you say, but your eyes are in fact on Mr. Bridgerton’s ass. Sam scowls as he looks at the TV again, “Yeah. Good ass. Fuck that.”
Sam grabs at your jaw, his fingers covering almost all of it as he turns your face up to him. He raises his brow. “Baby,” he murmurs, in that tone he knows you love.
“Yes, my sweet baby boy?”
He rolls his eyes. Hard.
His thumb rubs against the left side of your jaw, then press to your chin, “I’m hotter than Anthony,” he mumbles.
You snort and he can’t keep his faux annoyed expression too long but before you can speak he squeezes your jaw in his hand, “and I missed you while I was away,” he continues.
“I missed you too.”
His smile is softer when you say that, but of course, you have to follow it up with, “We did already have reunion sex.”
He groans, “Don’t act like you’re not still horny, I know you’re ovulating and I know you’re insatiable during that time.”
It’s your turn to scowl at him, “Rude.”
“Or a thoughtful, caring, wonderful sex master boyfriend?”
“Please never call yourself a sex master again.”
He giggles, then squishes your cheeks together. “Baby,” he tries the murmur again. You felt the heat starting to pool in your stomach just from how he’s standing in front of you, his warm hand on your face and his groin, well, right in front of you. It was just too fun to mess with him.
“I can’t just switch on the horny side of my brain like you can,” you mumble, looking up at him. This is all true, but you know you’re heating up, that his previous words are starting to get to you and you’re silently begging for him to continue talking about his stupid jerk off session.
Sam’s still rubbing your face with his thumb, a softness in his eyes that thrills you because how the hell can he still have that when he’s thinking about…yeah.
“Baby,” he repeats. Again. His thumb slips along your jaw back to your chin, pressing right under your bottom lip, coaxing you to pout it. You do exactly that, a silent conversation passing between the two of you. Sam always had a way with talking with his eyes and after dating him for so long, you’ve developed the same skill. Or it’s more like you’ve developed the skill to only speak to Sam this way and no one else.
“You can’t fool me,” Sam says, tapping the pad of his thumb to your lip. Whether he wanted you to open your mouth or not, you’re not sure, but you do it anyways, and he slips his thumb past your lips.
“Yeah…now? Or later?”
He’s giving you the option to hold off on his proposal but you had no plan on saying no to it. You give a little lick, then swirl of your tongue on his thumb, promptly sucking on it to give him your answer.
Sam tries to hold back his smile at first, but he lets it take over, “Mr. Bridgerton forgotten?”
You roll your eyes and bite his thumb. Sam yelps and brings his hand away, pushing at your forehead in retaliation.
“Oh come on,” you laugh, shoving at his hip. Touching him there makes you realize how low his pajamas pants are sitting.
“Come on??? On you???” Sam wiggles his brow and holds your head in his two hands to bring it back close to him, close enough that your chin brushes the front of his pants and he starts to shimmy his shoulders.
Your laughing hasn’t stopped and Sam keeps a firm hold on your head to keep you from moving, “Baby, lovey, precious girl, do you accept my offer?”
“Offer? Is that what it is?” You’re close to tears as your laughing settles down, and your hands move to his hips to steady him but he’s still shimmying.
“It’s an…offer you can’t refuse because…,” Sam pauses, making his voice all low and serious, “I know you love my dick in your pretty mouth.”
You hum in response to him, sucking your bottom lip to your mouth. He’s right.
Loser.
“Language,” you mutter, refusing to fully give into him and Sam blinks at you.
“You know, that characterization of Steve Rogers with that is so stupid because-mmmm…”
You nuzzle your nose against his crotch, chuckling at his reaction, “oh my god,” he says under his breath, and Sam presses on the back of your head to squish you into him, “Yeah, that’s…mmm that's the spot,” he mumbles.
With a small snort and squeeze against his hips, you tug at the waistband of his pants, tilting your head back up to look at him. “You sure you can hold off? You’re acting like I’m already scratching that itch.”
Sam shakes his head, pushing his pajama pants down and kicking them off, “Baby, I’m certain,” he says, his hands moving back to your head.
You’re not sure if you believe him, but it didn’t matter to you. Hooking your fingers in the waistband of his boxers, you ruck them down his thighs, eyes darting to his hardening cock. He’s unusually quiet at your actions, but you assume he’s trying to control himself. The moment your hand grips him at the base, he moans, and kicks his boxers to the side just like his pants.
You can’t help but chuckle at his moan, “Sam, baby, are-”
“Yes!” He whines. Your boy is so determined it’s endearing. He’s fully hard in your hand and you haven’t even given him a stroke.
All you can do is give him a nod. You let your saliva pool in your mouth, then spit it down on him, using your hand to rub up and then down on his cock to spread it. Sam’s hands adjust on your head, rubbing his thumbs from your brow bone to your temples. His gaze is locked down on you, standing as close as he can be.
“Missed this,” he tells you, like he hasn’t made that statement very obvious beforehand, but it still makes your lips curl into a smile at you brush them to his tip. Your tongue darts out to kitten lick at him and his breath hitches, fingers pressing to your temples in a soft massage as you swirl your tongue to him. The taste of him is a little salty and you’re half expecting him to blow all over your mouth any second.
But the man does not. Sam’s mouth is parted as he watches you lick only at his tip, your tongue flattening to it as your hand slowly drags up his cock. “How…how’re we doing this? I tell you when-”
“Mhm,” you cut him off, wrapping your lips around him and sucking once, then twice, then continously as you take more of him into your mouth.
He groans, hands tightening in your hair, “oh, fuck yes, baby,” he breathes out. Your eyes watch his face, Sam’s pretty fucking face. His hair is an absolute mess and his brow is furrowed, nose flaring when you take him a little deeper and hollow out your cheeks, bobbing your head slow on him.
He lets go of your head for only a moment to tug his shirt up, pulling at it from the collar and tossing it to the couch, then his hands return to you. He cups your jaw with one, rubbing his thumb to your cheek as you move your head. Your eyes flutter when he moans for you. Why is he so pretty? You want to ask him that but you’re occupied. You’ve probably done this for him a thousand times, but no matter how many times you have, every single time it feels like a fucking greek god is the one staring down at you with his soft blue eyes.
“Okay, give me a second…oh fuck, oh fuck,” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts, and you pull off of him, breathing deeply and rubbing to his bare thighs.
You raise your brow at him and Sam says, “what?”
“That was quick,” and you pat his thigh, nudging your nose along the length of his cock. At this point, you’re over the fact that you’re trying to edge him, you just want him heavy in your mouth.
Sam scoffs and shakes his head, “Yeah, but I held back. Do you feel any evidence on your face that I finished? No? Then I did it. Case closed.”
“Uh huh,” you mumble, squeezing his thigh, then leaning your head back up. You open your mouth and stick your tongue. Waiting.
Sam groans in a loud, dramatic manner and holds the base of his cock, slapping it gently your tongue, “I love you,” he mumbles, sliding himself into your mouth and then out, his hips keeping a steady movement. You can’t reply, but you feel warm at his words and give his thigh another squeeze.
“Yeah, I know, I know. You love me too,” he reads your actions, slowly fucking himself into your mouth, his breath ragged, “Love my cock too, I know that. Wish you could see yourself, baby…you’re taking almost all of it.”
Horny Sam is kicked into high gear and you shift your heel under you to press against your clothed cunt to get some sort of friction. Breathing through your nose helps the pressure of having his cock deep in your mouth every time he thrusts in. You hum around him and he chuckles breathlessly, “Ohhhh don’t do that,” he snorts and pulls himself from your mouth.
Taking a breather.
It makes you smile and bite to your lip. You let him calm for almost a minute then shift, like you’re impatient. Sam shakes his head, keeping your head tilted for him, “You gotta be less sexy for this to work, I’m gonna lose it.”
“I fear that’s impossible Sammy baby,” you mumble, then open your mouth again.
He groans. Again. He’s too predictable. “My fucking confident, sexy ass woman, let’s fucking go.”
You’d laugh, but he’s already shoving his cock into your mouth, bucking his hips with a slightly quicker speed than he had before. You moan against him, then swallow around him, fingers digging to his thighs. Once you try to move your head, he stops his thrusting, letting you take back over, bobbing your head quick on him and running your tongue on the underside of his dick.
It’s difficult to keep your eyes open, but it helps when he looks so hot, admiring you with a look that sends a shooting feeling down to your core and has your heel rubbing to you.
You moan on him, ignoring the wet sounds leaving your mouth when you start to take him deep enough you might gag. You know they drive Sam crazy and he proves it when he whines, “Mmmph, lovey, fuck, fuck take that cock, take it in your throat c’mon.”
You’re sure you heard his voice crack with those last words. You listen to him though, pushing to take all of him and still for only a couple seconds, tears springing to your eyes, before you have to pull off of him to breathe. He’s nodding his head at you as he pants, “Yeah, good girl, knew you could do it.” Sam almost pets at your hair, bringing you back in as your mouth chases for his tip, sucking only on that and sliding your tongue to his slit. Your head is in a daze, burning for him and him only.
Sam’s breath stutters, “oh fuck, that’s good…your mouth, baby…that tongue is fuckin’ insane,” he practically groans his words when you continue to lick your tongue to his tip. Gently, Sam pushes your head back and you whimper without meaning to.
“I know, I know, honey, but I don’t wanna cum in your mouth.” He breathes deeply, calming down yet again from his near orgasm and then brings your head back closer.
Your breath almost leaves you, “Sam…”
He leans down, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, quick kiss, then he tugs you off the couch to the carpeted floor on your knees. Once he’s standing back upright, he kneels one of his knees on the edge of the couch and your mouth finds it’s place on the base of his cock, leaving a wet, open mouthed kiss to him. Sam hums, jerking his cock slowly as your lips brush lower to his balls.
“There you go,” he murmurs, holding your head back with his free hand as he strokes himself quicker.
You moan, lapping at the senstive skin of his balls as you hold to his thigh, feeling the slight weight of his cock and the rush of movements his hand is making.
“Missed my little freak,” Sam moans out a laugh, his sounds a little higher in pitch, a tell tale sign he’s about to come.
Your lips suck to his balls, teeth every so slightly grazing the skin. Sam’s moan is choked out of him, and he has to pause his hand for a second before continuing, “Mmm lovey I’m gonna cum, gonna cum right on ya, okay? Gonna fuckin’ cum all you, oh fuck, shit…”
Sam groans when it hits him, his cum shooting out and hitting your nose and forehead first, then your cheek as he shifts. The moans that leaves you feels like it should be because you orgasmed. You didn’t. But this somehow feelings orgasmic for not only him but for you.
You can feel he must’ve come a lot because his eyes are glued to your face. Your eyes are dazed as he looks down at you, pushing the head of his cock to your lips to rub the last little beads of cum that come out of him. You wrap your lips to him again and suck, harshly. He whimpers and closes his eyes a second, before pulling out of your mouth.
“Pretty girl,” he whispers, and then using the tip of himself, gathers some of the cum on your cheek, and brings it your mouth. You happily lick him clean, moaning softly around him. Sam’s so sensitive, he has to reluctantly pull back. He lets go of himself, then kneels onto the ground with you, holding your jaw in his hands and turning your face. Sam lick up the cum left on your cheek and then smashes his lips to yours.
Both of you moan, his tongue sliding against yours and sharing his release with you. His arms wrap around your body and shift you until he can slowly bring you down to the carpet, situating himself between your legs. When he pulls back from the kiss, he’s got a goofy grin.
Your brow furrows. And you grin ear to ear.
He starts shimmying his shoulders and chuckle, hitting his chest gently, “What?”
“Come right on me, I mean camaraderie, said you’re not in my timezone but ya wanna be,” Sam starts to sing under his breath as he nuzzles his face into your neck and you cackle. He tries to keep singing but he’s laughing too through the words.
His fingers dig to your sides under your shirt and start to tickle.
“Woodbridge!” You squeal, delighted and not fully satiated, but definitely fully happy.
mdni!
wc; 3k
cw; just p in v, car sex, dirty talk, light exhibitionism
kinktober 2024 masterlist
Sam is an OC! Here is his fact sheet!
a/n; oh dear am i happy to have our first sam fic :) 3k of him wow! enjoy it guys, and please let me know your thoughts, i love you all for creating this silly guy with me. This is for you who love this OC as much as I do, thank you so deeply or entertaining me about him :)
Congratulations reverberated around you as Sam held tightly to your hand, leading you through the crowd of fellow families and loved ones of his teammates. His team won an important game and like usual, the party thrown after was mostly filled with Sam getting showered with compliments. His teammates too, of course, but Sam always got a lot.
You loved seeing him with that after-win glow; flushed from only one beer, and flushing more at the compliments.
He liked them, you knew that, but that did not mean he took them with ease. An embarrassed smile that edged on arrogance always graced his lips and it made you want to laugh as well as kiss his cheeks, tell your boy how proud you are of him.
You would watch him interact with people, hanging off of his arm for hours, but it’s nearing one a.m. and he’s visibly exhausted. You’re exhausted.
The heat of late summer was no joke and although Sam took a shower in the locker room before the party, he could use a quick shower at home before relaxing in bed with you. Maybe you’d join him.
Sam’s saying his goodbyes as you two walk through the crowd of people. A teammate almost stops him, but Sam barrels on. Wow. He must be tired. You squeeze his hand, an etch of concern on your face though he cannot see you right now.
He returns the squeeze, taking a glance back at you, then continues, until you can breathe in the outside air.
Which is somehow more humid than inside.
“Car a.c., car a.c., car a.c.,” Sam mumbles in a chant as he tugs you along the asphlat, and you chuckle, the sweat on your skin agreeing with his words.
“Was it even on in there?” You look back to the hotel the party had been at and Sam shakes his head.
“Maybe, but too many people.”
He goes quiet again as the two of you weave through the parking lot until his car comes into view. With the keys already out in his hand, he opens the locks, and the door for you. His hand lingers on your back as you climb into the car, then he shuts it closed.
You’re buckling your seatbelt when Sam gets into the driver’s seat, making quick work of starting the car and blasting the aircon.
He lets out an exaggerated sigh as the cool air hits you both, leaning back in his seat and sending you a lazy grin. “I’m scheduling us a trip to a very cold place right now.”
You stare at him, mimicking his slouched position, and keeping your head turned to him, “Right now?”
“With my…magical…mental powers…,” he says with a slow nod, eyes narrowing.
“Your mental powers, huh?”
“Mhm, I’m inputting my card number now.”
Sam is silent for about ten seconds, your eyes still locked, then says, “card’s been approved.”
“Oh, thank god,” you tell him, putting your hand over your heart like you’re as relieved as ever.
His lips twitch up for a small second, but he’s keeping the game up, “anddddd booked.”
“Where to?”
“A cold place.”
You roll your eyes and his smile lets up, coming with the sort of ease that makes you want to tug him closer to you, “Specifics?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Or you can’t think of a cold place right now,” you mumble, challenging him directly and Sam immediately scoffs.
“I’m delirious from the heat, babe, don’t question me. I’m fragile,” he defends himself and then looks out the front windshield. A hand swipes through his sweaty hair and you watch the movement. Some strands stick out of place, but all it does is make Sam more Sam.
“Congratulations, by the way,” you say in a softer tone. Many people had told him it tonight. Hell, you gave him a huge kiss once his big dumb smiling face left the locker room earlier tonight. But you had to tell him again. And it’s worth it, because he looks back at you, and grins more, rubbing his palms on his jeans.
“Thank you, lovey,” he responds in a quieter voice, reaching a hand over to lightly pinch your cheek, then his eyes rake down over you.
“No,” you chuckle, watching his eyes linger on your skirt.
“What? What do you mean, no?” Sam’s hand stays on your face, brushing his knuckles from your cheek to your jaw.
You hold onto his wrist, “I know that look. We are not fucking here.”
“Blasphemy,” he mumbles, “I wasn’t thinking of intimate relations with my dear number one fan.”
With a squeeze to his wrist and a pointed look, he concedes, “Okay, I was, but I’ve been thinking about it for like an hour, so.”
“Oh?” A breath leaves you and it feels as though your smile can never leave you when you’re talking to your man. “I thought you were exhausted. You looked it. Still do. Especially when we were walking out.”
He sighs, “I am, but…,” Sam trails off, tracing the edge of your jaw, his gaze on his hand as he does it, “you’re sexy.”
“Thank you, and-”
“And you were dancing before…remember? Before Mike came over? You were dancing on me…,” Sam pokes his finger to your cheek.
“Home,” you tell him, but you can’t deny that the thought of doing something right here right now got to you. And it isn’t helping that his hand not near your face is messing with his jeans, tugging on the fabric near his groin.
“I know,” he whispers, “just a kiss?” His fingers nudge on your chin and your eyes drop to his lips. They’re a little redder from his still-flushed state, and the fact he bites on them way too much out of habit.
Sam can see it in your eyes, so he doesn’t have to confirm. He knows you too well, as much as you know him. He leans over the center console, his hand holding shifting to the back of your head to pull you closer until his lips press onto yours.
His thumb rubs against the nape of your neck, the slight taste of beer on his lips mingles with yours, and the kiss ends way too quickly for you. Sam pulls back only a short distance, giving you his smile and moving his hand up to pat your head.
He’s just about to lean back into his seat, when you reach for his face, drawing him right back in. Sam huffs at the movement, but gives in once his lips return home to yours.
Your spine tingles and your skin, albeit cooled off from the aircon in the car, heats up all over again with a different surge. It has you slotting your lips to his with the addition of your tongue, licking into his mouth and humming when he lets out a soft moan. Sam’s hand juts out to your thigh, and you tangle your hand into his hair, the sweaty locks against your fingers are smooth, calling out to you to be caressed and pulled. It's like the exhaustion you felt earlier has left every inch of your body, and replaced it with something hot and needy.
Sam’s mouth is fervent, his tongue meeting yours with the sole purpose of wanting to swallow you whole. He kissed with his entire being and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You cannot imagine a world in which you didn’t get to feel the press of his nose against your face and his bitten lips caress yours, his soft breathy moans that he was never able to quiet.
Sam Woodbridge was utterly yours and after seeing him receive as much praise as he did tonight, you vow to give him that, and more.
“Okay, fine, maybe we can do something here,” you mumble between kisses, awkwardly shifting in the passenger seat to be facing him more.
Sam chuckles, pulling back, only to nuzzle his nose to yours and peck your lips, “we are in a parking lot,” another peck graces your lips, “we could be seen,” kiss, “you sure?” kiss.
You’re nodding against him while he’s speaking, “we’ll make it quick, you finish quick anyways,” and you nudge on his chest, an offended look crossing his face as he leans back in his seat.
“Ouch,” he says, watching you unbuckle your seat belt and climb over the console into his lap. It’s an unsexy move but he’s got that easy fucking smile. Curse him for that.
You settle there, and look down at the bulge in his jeans. “You’re hard already.”
Sam rolls his eyes. “Lovey, you’re probably soaked already,” he mumbles and slides his hand up under your skirt, his touch like a delightful shock that’s fastly spreading all over your body. Especially as his fingers graze your panties, only to cup you, confirming that you are indeed just as turned on as he is.
“Oh, yeah,” he whispers, pressing his palm up against you. You gasp, and press your hands into his shoulders, and he tsks playfully, “just what I thought. I-oh.”
He stops when your hand makes contact with his bulge, only trailing your fingers down it, and Sam removes his hand from under your skirt to get his belt off.
“Okay. Quick. Very Quick,” he says, expertly getting his belt off with just the one hand, then lifting his hips slightly, tugging his jeans down with your assistance. Once they’re at the top of his thighs, you sit more firmly on him so he sits back down.
His head cranes to your neck, giving you wet kisses up to your ear, then lightly sucking on the spot below it. You shift your hips at the sensation, reaching through the front hole of his boxers to fish his cock out. He groans against yout skin, trailing hotter kisses back down your neck and sucking harshly at another one of your weak spots. A shaky breath leaves you and you move up in his lap more.
He’s heavy and warm in your hand, but you only feel him for a few more seconds before he’s pulling back and grabbing your hand. He holds it open and spits into your palm. Sam pushes your hand back down to his cock, helping you rub in the spit, his eyes locked to yours.
He gives a nod, “remember when you first ever jerked me off?”
The random memory makes you snort a little, your hand slowly stroking up and thumbing his tip. He shifts under you, sneaking his hand back under your skirt to push your panties aside. His thumb presses at your opening, and it makes you gasp.
“Yeah, I remember,” you whisper to him. “It was in your old car.”
Sam nods, easing the tip of his thumb into you, then out, his breath getting heavier from your ministrations on his lower region.
“Mhm, you jerked me off in the backseat…because my game sucked…and our favorite pizza place was closed earlier than we thought. We kissed, and you…,” he trails off when your thumb swipes his tip again, and his hands move to your hips, pushing you up a little to position you over him.
“You got a little handsy and I got…so fucking hard. Swore I’ve never gotten that hard in my life ever,” Sam chuckles at the memory, holding himself at the base and dragging his tip against your cunt. It’s hard to focus on him reminiscing on this story. You almost want to tell him that, but all that’s in your mind is fuck fuck fuck just fuck me sam, fuck me.
“And you offered…to help me out…with such a cute fucking look…you were just as nervous as me…I swear we both felt like it was the first time we’ve ever done anything,” Sam says, aligning his cock at your entrance.
“Gonna tell me why you're thinking of this…wonderful memory?” You manage to get out, your breath hitching and your hands gripping to his shoulders. You start to sink down on him, and Sam lets out a low groan, leaning his head back, then looking down to watch.
“That was the last time we did something in a car,” he mutters, cursing under his breath as you continue to sink down on him until you’re buried at the hilt with him. A moan leaves your lips.
“Ah…yeah, that’s…took it good, baby,” he whispers, his hand dropping to your stomach and thumbing down on your clit. You whine at it, and clench around him, “Sam…”
“I know, lovey, you’re good. You got it.” Sam continues the slow roll of his thumb while you adjust to him, his eyes roving over your face as your’s stay shut.
When they open, you nod to him, “I’m gonna move.”
Sam nods, giving your hip an encouraging pat. You move up, and immediately hit your head on the car ceiling. “Ow, fuck,” you curse.
Sam bites his cheek hard. “Oh no, my baby,” he says, leaning up and pulling you against his chest, cradling your head. He rubs the back and top of your head, stifling his laugh, “It’s okay, it’s okay.”
“Don’t laugh,” you whine at him, but Sam can’t help his chuckle. He reaches for the recline of his seat, and presses down on it, but the recline goes too fast and the seat falls back quick enough for his head to hit back on the seat. You laugh.
“Oh. Oh. I see how it is huh?” He tries to sound mad, but he isn’t. You’re laid against him, head to his chest and Sam bends one of his legs up, thrusting up into you which halts your laughing.
“Yeah, thought so,” he mumbles, his voice taking on a huskier tone, and he thrusts up again, and again, and again, working himself into you.
You brace your hands on his shoulders, kissing to his collarbone and the base of his neck, a short breaths and small moans leaving your lips. A louder moan rocks through you when he fucks up in a harsher move, and he says, “you’ll take anything I fucking give, yeah?”
All you can do is nod again him and Sam groans, “Just…letting me fuck up into you…in my car…you’re gonna make a mess on my seat, baby…you’re so wet, you hear it?”
You can. The wet squelch every time he thrusts is pounding in your ears, his breath turning more into a grunt. Your hips move to meet his movements and once you have the burst of energy, you push yourself to sit up in his lap, rubbing your hands down to his chest and bouncing steadily at him. There’s an air of caution you have, so as to not hit your head again, but fuck did you want to bounce on his cock.
“That’s my fucking girl, look at you,” he almost growls, resting one hand behind his head, letting his hips relax for a moment and letting you take the reins. His other hand rubs to your stomach and down to toy with your clit again.
A whimper leaves you and his touch spurs you on to rock on him faster, desperate to feel him fill you to brim.
“Look at you taking my cock, holy fuck, baby.” Sam watches you with a glint of awe in his eyes, unable to look away from where you two connect, then back up to your face, strewn with pleasure.
He rubs your clit faster, breath shakier as he speaks, “Want me to cum in you? I can’t cum in the car.” The joke he threw in causes a breathless chuckle to come from you and you swat his chest.
“Yeah, Sammy, cum in me,” you mumble, humming to stifle the bigger moans you’d only let out if you were home. He groans at your words and nods, his mouth parted. Your thighs ache and Sam notices your movements get sloppier, so he grabs your hips to help, moving you up and down on his dick.
“Cream on it, lovey, c’mon, c’mon give it to me,” he grunts, a tremble in his voice.
You let out a quiet strangled noise, nodding your head, “Yeah, yeah Sammy I’m gonna cum,” you sputter out as you contract around him.
Sam’s eyes almost roll back, but he keeps his gaze to you, His words are frantic, his voice raspy, “fuck I’m cumming, I’m cumming, baby, fuck.” As he says it, you feel his warmth. His load releasing into you and the jerk of his hips as he grunts a bit louder.
He quickly puts his fingers back at your clit as he breathes through his orgasm, rubbing at you quick until you’re squeezing him impossibly tight and cumming around him. You bite on your cheek hard, an attempt to not cry out in pleasure as Sam rubs your sensitive bud, his cock twitching inside of you gives you enough reason to keep going, but then you remember you’re in his car.
He helps you lift off of him, his cum starting to leak down your thigh. Sam sees it and sits up quick, and fixes your panties. So you have to sit in it. You look to his face.
His stupid grin is there.
“I love you,” you whisper, and he softens, cupping your cheek, and rubbing his thumb to your cheekbone.
“I love you more.”
He pats your cheek, “Now, get in your seat, missy, the shower at home is calling our name.” Sam almost shoves you over to the passenger seat as you laugh and he fixes his boxers, then his jeans, leaving them unbuttoned and unzipped.
“Why?” You say, pointing to his crotch as he puts the car in drive. His face doesn't break out into another stupid grin as he backs out of the parking space, but he does let out a weary sigh that you would classify as part of his 'acting'.
all over your face...and he's telling you you're so pretty all through it
I wish you guys can hear what im hearing in my head
Sam's jerking himself quick while holding your head back. You're still panting from your own orgasm before he pulled out, your eyes dazed and looking at him with so much need it drives him wild.
He groans right when it hits him, "Fffuck, that's it," his voice all low and gruff as he paints your face, literally ropes onto your skin. He tries his best to get it all over your face, not just in one area, uses his grip on your hair to his advantage.
"Mhm fuck pretty girl, fucking take it." His grunts becoming shaky, breathy moans, his eyes wanting to shut but he needs to see your face. Because you look like you're in heaven, a completely blissed out look on your face and your tongue out to catch some of his cum.
And when Sam knows he's about to finish giving you all he has, he presses the tip of his dick to your bottom lip, watching the last of it bead onto you and your tongue lap it all up.
"Jesus fuck, you freak," he mutters to you, laughing at his own words with you because he's just as much a freak.
a long overdo list of random facts for sam (an OC), enjoy <3
Samuel Alexis Woodbridge (s.a.w., yes those are his initials)
age range 26-29 ish??? Never discussed, but this is what I have been envisioning.
Pitcher for the Yankees (undetermined on the team, but that's what we last talked about)(his number is 47)
Has four sisters, two younger, two older.
Originally from a small town in Maine, but now permanently lives in NYC
Has one earring and a nose ring (both silver)
one time got a tongue piercing on his off season and loved it
His teammates gave him the nickname, "Woody," yes because of his name, but also because he got a boner in the middle of practice when he was a rookie and he hasn't lived it down since
Went to college, played baseball there, but also majored in sports journalism and minored in fine arts
Was usually deemed a class clown in school, was a theater kid in high school just for fun
Deep sleeper
Loves taking pictures with a digital camera
Super talkative. Sam is outgoing and friendly, just loves conversation and new people
Love languages are physical touch and quality time
Will be a full on slut for you
Any and all photoshoots of him have a silly vibe
JUST A SILLY GUY!!! He doesn't take himself too seriously, and sometimes he's okay with knowing when to tone it down and be serious, but once in a while, misses the cue on when to stop and actually be serious
Absolutely loves Sabrina Carpenter's music, but otherwise, most of his music is all from the 90s in a variety of different genres
Dresses casually, lot of jeans, t shirts, sweaters, crewnecks, henleys, etc. A good baseball cap, sneakers or work type boots.
Sends voice notes and middle of the day selfies no matter what he's doing
Shuts down during arguments and has a little trouble communicating in those high emotion moments, which leads to ignoring the situation for a little bit
Which also leads to him brushing off some emotions he's feeling and using humor instead
He is online and a fan favorite of the team
Was always an athletic guy
Is an Eagle Scout
Did a manscaped ad once
His family has iconic christmas parties
Penguins are his favorite animal
Only into baseball, he doesn't care for any other sport (besides maybe mini-golf and bowling)
Loves tender love-biting (reciprocating and receiving)
An overdramatic man when he has a minuscule cold
Got his nose ring piercing because his sister was scared to get his ear pierced and he made the deal he'd get a piercing with her
His favorite snack is three oreos
has texted "prepare your panties," on multiple occasions
Huge hsm2 fan
looks like a fuckboy sometimes, but he's nowhere near that, he really is just a sweet guy
muttering tiktok audios 7 times out of 10
More dominant than submissive in bed, but only focused on both him and his partner having a good time
One time shaved his hair into a buzzcut and bleached it like his other teammates, but never again after his family's (and you's) reaction
Curses a lot (favorites are; fuck, motherfucker, dickhole)
Will make a tiktok with his friends and partner
definition of gentlemen in the streets, freak in the sheets
you drunk message him congrats and assuming the breakup was amicable he's acting like it hasn't been a year plus since you've last spoken :( he's just like thank you!!! how've you been :)
it’s such a friendly message but sam is freaking out on his side
am feeling it was amicable but still like a huge sore spot? like neither of you necessarily wanted to break up but whatever circumstances there were, it felt like the right decision at the time
and maybe even though it was amicable, you deleted him off of like everything, maybe even blocked him on social media because seeing him made you upset
However seeing/hearing whatever news it is about him and his baseball career it gets to you :( especially if you get drunk and you can’t distract those thoughts, and you didn’t block his number, so it’s easy to just text him
And he ends up answering your text way quicker than you expect, but you’re still too distracted to think clearly, so you tell him and in that second message, you have some typos.
So Sam figures out you’re drunk very quick and starts to ask if you’re safe :( asks where you are, if you can share your location and he’ll watch you get home
Then the next day, you’re just so mortified by what happened, you’re not sure if you should apologize to him. But before you can craft a message, he sends you a picture of his first ever professional jersey with his name and number and everything just feels…a little at ease
let billy or sam dry hump. they’d both love it so much
sam would so jokingly hump your leg, but then he accidentally gets hard from it, and you're getting up, so he grabs your wrist and is like, "wait, no, baby come here," and he pulls you back to him, already making a puppy dog sort of face to plead with you.
and for billy, I feel like it's something he considers easy and quick, especially if there is only time to make out, like might as well grind against you until he finishes, he's a big boy, he can deal with the cum in his underwear if it meant having that time with you.
