if you forget how they were presented to us on supernatural and start thinking of them more realistically, you can almost grasp the full extent of it. they’re scary not just because they’d kill anyone or anything for each other—they’re scary because they wouldn’t hesitate. they’re the last people you’d want to piss off and they almost never miss. if they want something dead, its dead. or it will at least wish it was. they’re the strongest duo, and everyone knows it. they're good at what they do, but all their morals disappear when it comes to each other.
they move through the world like ghosts- appearing in towns just as quickly as they disappear from them. they don’t make much effort to appear normal. they keep to themselves. and you don’t need to hear them speak to know they’re not like other people.
every hunt leaves them with new wounds. nasty gashes, darkening bruises, fresh cuts that bleed into their hair, their clothes. the blood could be theirs. it could be something else’s. all the hotel rooms that cant be accessed without first passing the night shift staff behind a front desk.. they've seen the blood. even when they're presentable the morning after, after they've scrubbed the night off their skin, they're covered in scars. you can hide a lot, but you cant hide every scar. especially not the ones that still itch, still hurt when you scratch them. all the scars that just won't fully heal.
it’s their eyes that unsettle you the most.
if you’re brave enough to meet their gaze, fearful certainty washes over you. it confirms what you likely already assumed; that somethings not right at all about these freaks. they've seen things you know you can't fathom. they're impossible to read, but you're not sure you want to.
then there’s the way they look at each other.
most strangers assume they’re a couple. not because they’re affectionate, (and they are, in their own way,) but because of the way they move. the way the shorter one’s eyes linger possessively on the taller one, the way he looks at him with an unexplainable need. the way their voice drops when they speak, like they're afraid someone might overhear. the way their eyes dart to the same corner of the room when someone speaks just a bit louder than others.
it’s not even romantic, it's something else entirely.
Okay, a few notes before the content of the post itself:
So, I ended up writing brief scenarios for the four bachelors featured here that all lead into the first kiss and provide some setup for each. I let myself run a bit wild by thinking about how a romantic relationship would develop, how that would culminate into the first kiss, and then what later kisses would look like during an established relationship.
Hope you enjoy!
Edited on 07/29/26: I made a few revisions to Zevlor's section. I used the term courting incorrectly, so I corrected the language to reflect that Zevlor and Tav would be exploring a relationship together instead of Zevlor courting Tav. 😊
First Kisses With The Tiefling Bachelors - [Cal] [Rolan] [Zevlor] [Dammon]
Cal-
Breathtaking, all-encompassing, adoring
After arriving in Baldur’s Gate, helping where he could in the city’s relief efforts, and then, finally, settling in, Cal has gotten the chance to think of more than just the next day on the road and what that may bring.
So, when time and schedules permit, Cal enjoys spending time with you, walking through the city’s markets, visiting local taverns, and walking the streets taking in the sights.
When Cal first realizes that he has feelings for you, he might also be a bit intimidated by the fact that you are a Hero of Baldur’s Gate—even if he did witness (and politely did not draw attention to) how you occasionally fumbled around the Emerald Grove or Last Light Inn.
He is fully aware that you are a person, but you’re a person who has accomplished much. So the time that he gets to spend exploring the city with you helps him get to know you as more than just the intrepid adventurer who saved him and his family once or three times.
The two of you share inside jokes and dissolve into fits of laughter. You tease each other, and you enjoy whiling away the evenings together. You are wholly yourself with him, and that realization leaves him breathlessly giddy.
And, in being wholly yourself with him, you share bits and pieces about yourself that you might not have readily done with anyone else—tales from the road, books that you have read, memories of places in the city. He begins to do the same. He’ll share stories about Elturel and the things he loved about growing up there.
And, sometimes, when the days are hard and the memories are heavy, you two will sit in silence, simply taking comfort in the other person being there.
As time goes on, you learn that Cal enjoys physical touch, and if you assure him that you are comfortable with it, he will sometimes pause to take your hand or hug you. He is the first to suggest a dance if the bards at the Blushing Mermaid strike up a tune, and he will clumsily sweep across the floor with you.
It’s in those moments of shared joy that he realizes how much he adores you and would very much so like to kiss you.
Perhaps after a turn (or five) the music comes to an abrupt halt, and the two of you are left breathless and dizzy, mouths so close that you are sharing in the other’s breath. Cal cracks a smile at you, and his eyes flick to your lips.
And the rowdy tavern falls away around the two of you as you lean in and kiss, Cal’s wrapping one arm around your waist as he rests his other hand at the base of your neck.
Perhaps after the kiss, just to check, he’ll say, “So… I’m hoping I’m not reading too much into things here, but that was really nice. I really like you and… I’d really like to do that again. The kissing part. And the dancing. And, well, whatever else you might like to do too. To be clear, I think I’m falling for you.”
From there, Cal will greet you with a tender kiss. He will regularly reach for your hand. His favorite outings with you will likely involve finding a grassy, cool place where the two of you can lay and doze in the other’s arms.
Rolan
Heated, passionate, and perhaps a little bit sudden. However, not unwelcome.
I think that a first kiss with Rolan can happen in a multitude of ways (just like I do for any of the characters on this list). So while I may share one of two ideas, trust me when I say that I could make an entire series out of how a first kiss with him might go down.
For starters, when Rolan does realize that he has feelings for you, he does so with no small amount of frustration. Is he frustrated with you? Himself? These damn emotions that, evidently, went unchecked and grew, nay flourished, unabated? He doesn’t know! Zurgan, he took his eyes off things for five minutes and came back to a heart pounding with longing for you.
Over the course of spending evenings in comfortable silence with him, you working on a project or reading while he studies, a sense of camaraderie and, dare he admit it, affection began to take form.
In that time as well, you two have developed a comfortable sort of banter—it’s two parts teasing, one part sincerity sometimes delivered as blunt honesty, and wholly yours. And Rolan loves it—even more because it’s something that comes so easily for you two.
Rolan does sit on his feelings for you, because he wants to confirm that he isn’t merely infatuated and that whatever affections he holds for you don’t blow over with the turn of the season. To be clear, he waits an agonizingly long time and there may, in fact, have been a season change in there, but he’s the only one suffering here. At least, he thinks so.
But with the passage of time, what he feared was a fleeting fancy proved itself to be a deep yearning affection that was, indeed, love.
Once again, he was left frustrated that his feelings chose to run off on a tear and, seemingly, had a mind of their own. All he knows is that he is in love with you and he can only wonder if you feel the same. He does know, however, that if he doesn’t tell you, then he is going to be left with a gnawing pain in his chest every time he thinks about you and wonders what could have been had he just… confessed.
On the day that he confesses to you, his mind is abuzz. He worries that his responses could be misconstrued or that he is, perhaps, coming across as too harsh in how he replies to you. All he knows is that he is flustered and when you smile at him that way, all he can think about is how much he wants to lean in and kiss you.
He can’t focus on his studies, and his gaze keeps wandering over to where you are sitting, totally oblivious to his turmoil. Which is likely for the best.
You might make a teasing comment which, on another day, would have been met with an eye roll and a smirk. But for whatever reason, Rolan is reduced to a flustered mess. He might manage to bluster something back in rebuttal, but it simply doesn’t land.
At this point, you can see that Rolan is bothered. He can’t seem to focus on his work, which is very uncommon; he keeps getting up and pacing to and from the study’s balcony, his tail lashing behind him like it does when he is frustrated; also, he’s struggling to look you directly in the eye, which is very out of the ordinary for him.
Perhaps you voice your concern and ask if he needs some space—maybe he needs some time alone to think on whatever is bothering him. You’re fairly certain it isn’t you, but you won’t know if he doesn’t tell you. And, knowing Rolan, he will be very forthcoming if you have done something to upset him.
Hearing your question is enough to give him pause. The tension will leave his shoulders and he will exhale slowly and apologize.
He will ask if he can come sit with you and he will say, “In the past several months, I have come to realize that I am deeply in love with you, and instead of being forthcoming, I have sat and stewed and let myself be eaten alive by the thought of what would happen, or whom might earn the honor of your affections, if I did not tell you. I love you.”
Now, if you gently tease him but reciprocate his feelings, he might roll his eyes, huff a laugh and say “Gods, you are infuriating,” before leaning in and kissing you. It is sudden, certainly, but as it continues, it grows all the more heated and passionate.
From there, when the two of you settle into the cadence of a relationship with one another, he will press quick kisses to your temples as he walks past you while you are working. When teasing turns into flirting, it’s just a matter of time before one of you cracks and kisses the other, forgetting everything else… just for a moment.
Zevlor-
Tender, romantic, and slow.
A first kiss with Zevlor may happen shortly after one of you professes your love for the other, or it could happen months after the fact. He is a patient man who is content to follow his partner’s lead. So he is happy to take things slow with you so long as he knows that his feelings are reciprocated.
If the two of you explore a relationship this way, then it might not be uncommon for you two to go on an evening stroll through Bloomdridge Park; before parting for the evening, he may linger there, cast his eyes down to your hand, raise it up, and lay a gentle kiss over your knuckles. If you enjoyed that gesture, then he will continue to do this as way of greeting, farewell, and sometimes as a quiet show of affection.
Sometimes, he’ll lift your hand to his lips and lay a soft kiss there whilst the two of you are talking or sharing in a silence marked by your contentment.
When he is trying to ground himself, he may lay a kiss against your palm and hold your hand there, taking comfort in your warmth.
Though Zevlor might not have much experience in matters of the heart, he still has some. Of course, his experience as a soldier has him searching for what he might term the most “strategic” opportunity to lean in, smile softly, and ask, ever so gently, if he can kiss you.
Which is to say, Zevlor wants to plan the first kiss you two share, because he wants to get across that you mean the world to him.
He doesn’t want it to be a spur of the moment thing, because nothing about how he feels for you is abrupt.
If he has the luxury to plan everything out, he will take it. For him, this is a chance to learn more about you and all of the things you love, and he will pay attention to your favorite places, your favorite weather, season, meals, etc.
So, short of a disaster occurring, he will do everything to make the kiss perfect as possible.
Which isn’t to say that his nerves won’t get the best of him—you’re amazing, after all.
Suffice it to say, whatever he prepares is nothing short of breathtaking.
Granted, if the evening doesn't end in a kiss, he isn't going to be bothered--there are plenty of nights ahead, and whatever happens will happen in due course.
Regardless of when you two kiss for the first time, Zevlor is a ball of nerves. He tells himself that he is maintaining a solid facade, but you know his tells--the way his tail swishes when he's overthinking or how he clears his throat when he fears that his words will abandon him.
And when the two of you do kiss for the first time, he might bump his nose against yours and huff out a weak laugh before trying again. Or he might lean forward too much and have you arching your back a smidge too much.
If he rests his hands on your arms, you might notice he’s shaking. Just a little. Sometimes his nerves get the better of him.
But it’s wonderful, and it will leave you a little breathless (which he will apologize for with a nervous laugh).
From there, Zevlor will become a great deal more affectionate. He might press a kiss to your temple while you’re working, or he might walk up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, resting his head in your hair and coiling his tail around your leg.
Dammon-
Gentle, a little playful, might make your legs wobble a bit
Dammon has a fairly easygoing nature, so for him, to tease and flirt comes fairly easy, and he loves flirting with you if he knows you’re enjoying it too--or at the very least amused by it.
He likes taking you by surprise with a well-placed compliment or a risqué statement made in passing. He’s very good at it too, and he has an infuriatingly sly smile when his statement takes a second or two to register with someone and then they whip their head around to look at him.
However, because he enjoys flirting and is generally just comfortable in himself, it is possible that, sometimes, his interest in another might be misconstrued as nothing more than him being him and bantering along.
So you might be flirting back and thinking nothing of it. Conversely, if you’re not much of one for flirting but you don’t mind if others tease you in a flirtatious manner, you might just roll your eyes and write off what Dammon is saying as his regular way of interacting—in which case, he will have to make a particular effort to convey that he is, in fact, trying to express interest in you.
A first kiss with Dammon would happen after he has managed to establish that, no, he is not just flirting for the sake of flirting. No, he is expressing a keen interest in you and wants you to know.
When he does tell you, he will make a point to not put you on the spot. He doesn’t want to do anything too elaborate, but he still wants the moment to be special in its own way.
At some point, while renting the building that serves as his home and storefront, he pulled together a small sitting space for visitors and friends near his forge—close enough that they can talk and get his attention if they need something, but not so close that the heat from the furnace is unbearable.
Perhaps one evening, you’re sitting there, talking with him some but also working on a project or reading a book while he puts the finishing touches on a commission. The sun is setting over the city, and the streets are slowly emptying. There are a few folk about, but they’re quite involved in their own business.
Dammon is waiting for the right time, and it just happens to be when he moves to quench the steel, and the sound of hot metal hitting water or oil makes you lift your head.
You look up at him, and he smiles a bit crookedly and then, instead of one of his usual flirtatious remarks, he says, “I don’t think I could ever tire of this sight,” while holding your gaze.
He’ll step away to come sit with you, perhaps apologize for smelling like a forge, but then he’ll smile softly. “I adore you.” The sincerity in his words and the affection in his eyes is enough to leave you floored.
If you reciprocate, he will take your hand in his and lean forward, resting his brow against yours.
The first kiss would be gentle at first, giving you the chance to draw back if you have any second thoughts; however, if you lean closer, Dammon will follow suit and kiss you until you’re breathless.
From there, whenever you visit him, he is quick to step away from his work to greet you with a heady kiss that, were he not to hold onto your waist, might leave you unsteady on your feet. And then, whenever he passes you as he works, he’ll give you a quick peck and let his hand linger over yours for a second or two longer.
Border art by @/saradika
Banner images came from BG3 wikis, one came from Nerd Stash. Edited in Canva.
There might be a wee pause (maybe a week, but I am known to lie… it may be days lmao) until the next update, as I want to take some time to plan out the next arc of this story. In the meantime, if anyone has any questions feel free to drop them in my inbox or the comments section on AO3 - if there’s enough burning intrigue I could put together a quick Q&A
As always, a link for potential new friends who like NPMD and ask themselves “what if none of them had to die?”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
“I think I’m in love with Tim,” Kon says to the void, to the ether, to two of the people who know him better than he knows himself.
Bart’s thumb traces idly over Kon’s ankle bone, just a touch too fast to be soothing. “Have been for like two years, dude,” he says, and yeah, that tracks.
the long awaited, highly anticipated, timberkon companion/continuation chapter
between the pride announcements and the newest wfa fastpass there was no stopping this trainwreck as it crashed out of my brain
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The night is cold, bleak. Joly’s come to expect it in the time they’ve spent on Hoth, but that doesn’t mean it’s gotten easier. A bitter chill seeps into his bones as he sits on a thin blanket and stares out the small observation window into the dark tundra below. At least the cold clears the air, and he can see the stars.
It’s @jolyweek y’all!
Didn’t quite beat the buzzer on the East Coast, but it’s still February 5th in a couple time zones. Thought I’d write a little Star Wars au fic for Day 6: Stars.
Remember that idea of dead Martha and Thomas talking to Bruce about his child, and Bruce thinking they mean Damian when it's actually Jay? Well...
———————
Bruce knew he shouldn't be here. And not because it'd been so long since he'd come to terms with the knowledge that, once everything was said and done, he wouldn't go there- didn't deserve to go there.
Burce had always known, after all, that his place was not in heaven, with his parents.
No, it was because there where people waiting for him, down there. The League, the Family, his family. He knew he shouldn't be wasting time better invested in coming up with a plan to go back down, where there were people trying to make his body wake up.
He knew he should go back.
Just.
"My Bruce, just look at you"
"Looks like you're no longer our little boy, son"
Just not yet.
Because it wasn't every day that one could talk face to face with one's long dead parents.
Warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex, handjob, some language
A/N: My first Sammy fic! Hope it’s good. Feeback is always welcome and appreciated. :)
You held back a groan of absolute dread while the bed dipped down as Sam Winchester joined you. In any other situation, this sleeping arrangement would be ideal -- and you preferably wouldn't have been sleeping. Unfortunately, this had nothing to do with the fantasies of Sam you kept locked away in your mind (where, hopefully, no one would ever find out about them). There was only one bed in the dingey motel room the Winchesters and yourself had managed to scrape from the bottom of the barrel and use as base camp for this hunt. Dean had taken the Jack, Cas, and Baby to the next town over to do some research, leaving you with the younger Winchester and very little room left on the mattress you now had to share. This also meant that for the next few hours, you would be getting no sleep, however, not for the reasons you had secretly wished for.
Clearing his throat, Sam tried to get comfortable while attempting to give you as much space as possible. You awkwardly settled in next to him, trying to ignore the unavoidable physical contact of his warm body next to yours. When you finally stopped fidgeting, Sam leaned over and reached for the bedside lamp. "G'night," he mused.
A small click and you were plunged into the darkness. The neon motel sign blinked behind the flimsy blinds, and you tried to keep your breathing steady so to not alert your bunk-mate to the ongoing war between your head, your heart, and your libido. You shut your eyes tight made an effort to think of anything other than the man lying next to you. Slowly, you started to drift off to the sound of his light snoring, sleep and exhaustion from the day pulling you away.
Your thoughts muddled as your dreams took over. It wasn't unusual for you to dream about Sam, your fantasies taking over as you imagined what his lips would feel like against yours, hands in each others hair and roaming one another's bodies. It was no secret that Sam was incredibly well built, and it drove you crazy thinking about how good he must be in bed. Your dream grew more and more steamy and sensual as you pictured him on top of you. Fantasy-Sam had Fantasy-Y/N panting and moaning his name.
"Y/N... Y/N," the sound of your name falling from his lips was music to your ears. "Y/N..." However, something felt a little off. Like your name came out as more of an urgent question than an expression of pleasure. "Y/N?" This time his voice came much more clearly, and you were ripped from your blissful haze. The motel room was dimly lit by the now aglow bedside lamp. Two strong hands shook you lightly awake.
"Huh?"
"Y/N?" he asked as he peered over you. "You okay?"
"Uh," you answered shakily. Your face felt hot as you avoided his hazel eyes, hoping you weren't blushing. "Ye-- yeah. I'm fine. Why?" Awkward.
"You were talking in your sleep."
'Damn it,' you thought to yourself. "Really? Wha-- what did I say, exactly?"
"Well, at first you we're just kinda groaning a lot... and then... it kinda sounded like..." He scratched his jaw absentmindedly, "It sounded like you were saying my name."
'Shit.'
"I mean, if I didn't know you any better, I would've sworn you were having a sex dream..." he added, shaking his head. "About... me."
He turned back to face you and you severely wished you could become invisible. You were positive that your face had turned a deep shade of red. Recognition and surprise crossed Sam's face and his jaw dropped open.
"Holy shit, Y/N. Were you dreaming about me?" You nodded silently. "Do you, I mean, how long... Do you dream about that a lot?"
"Oh my god," you muttered back. You threw your hands over your face in embarrassment. "You were so not supposed to find out like this. Or, ya' know, ever."
He laughed lightly and gently pulled your hands from your face. "Y/N, you don't have to be embarrassed. It's not like you're the only one who imagines that kind of thing. Hell, I've wondered..." he trailed off.
"You've wondered?" Now it was your jaw that dropped open. "You've imagined... me... in bed?" It took you a moment to wrap your brain around the situation. Sam Winchester had the hots for you, the same way you had the hots for him. "Is the dream-me any good," you joked rhetorically.
"Oh, yeah." That was not what you expected. It was only then that you finally looked up and saw the lust burn in his eyes. His demeanor changed from awkward to sensual in a snap, and damn it was hot. "Can I ask you something?" His voice had deepened from before.
"Uh huh."
"What exactly did you picture me doing?"
The question came out as a rough whisper, and your mouth went dry as you stared at him with disbelief. "What?"
"When you were dreaming about me, what exactly did you imagine me doing to you? I wanna know. I want to try it," he continued as he leaned towards you. "I want to make you moan and beg like you were before I woke you up."
Your dream had already made you slicken with desire, but now you were close to soaking yourself at the sound of his words. You never thought you and Sam would actually be together in real life. In fact, until a couple of minutes ago, you didn't think he thought of you in that way. You had become practically giddy now that you knew the truth, and hornier than ever knowing he wanted to fuck you. He wanted to do the things you had dreamed him doing.
You took a shaky breath. "At first," you started quietly, "you just started to kiss me. Lips," you said, licking your own. "Then neck... then further and further down." Your fingers started to unbutton the oversized button-down you'd chosen for bed, but not removing it.
Sam moved closer, his eyes asking for permission before touching you. You nodded and in an instant, his lips met yours. After a few moments of passion upon your mouth, his lips traveled to your jaw, nipping it lightly. He peppered kisses down your skin, reaching your neck, your collarbone, and finally your chest. His hands pushed your shirt off your shoulders and discarded it. He leaned back for a moment to examine your breasts with admiration. Before you could say anything, his mouth was on you. Lips and teeth sucked and nibbled at the mounds of flesh. You arched your back as the first moan erupted form you. You hummed at the sensation. He released one of your nipples with a small 'pop,' and you whined as he retreated.
"What happened next?"
It took you a moment to regain focus. "Next you took off your shirt," and he did. "Then... you trailed off, suddenly a bit shy about the forthcoming part of your fantasy. "Then you started to... well... eat me out," you blushed.
Sam didn't hesitate and he was back in you again -- his lips finding their way lower until reaching the hem of your shorts. Hooking his finger into your panties, he pulled both garments agawy in a single movement.
"Fuck, baby. You are dripping." He took two fingers and gathered some of your juices and brought them to his mouth. A moan, sweeter than you ever imagined left him as he cleaned you off his digits. Leaning down again, he spread your legs apart and kissed his way across your thighs.
You could feel a the hot coil of arousal in the pit of your stomach as he continued his ministrations. His hot breath across your wetness made you shiver in anticipation. With one long, tantalizing lick up the center, a moan more erotic than you thought yourself possible escaped and sent Sam into a firey frenzy. No warning or preparation could have prepared you for how quickly his mouth attacked your lower lips, and your hands went into his hair. You involuntarily pushed his head closer as your thighs closed around his head. With strong, calloused hands, he pinned your legs down for easier access; hungrily devouring you.
Sam's tounge flicked away at your throbbing clit, moving faster than you thought humanly possible. You shrieked as your legs shook as the pulsing orgasm tore through you. Sam's mouth was relentless on your soaking pussy; licking, sucking, slurping. He moaned at the taste of you in his mouth, sending delicious vibrations onto your oversensitive womanhood. Before you knew it, you were cumming yet agian, even before you had ridden out your last wave of pleasure. You gasped for breath between your wanton sounds of satisfaction.
Sam crawled back up your body as you recovered. He let out a small chuckle before his lips found yours in a deep kiss. "Anything like your dreams?"
"Better," you managed.
"What happened next?"
"Well," you said, sitting up on your elbows, "that's about as far as I got before you woke me up." You smiled as an idea came to mind. "Although... you did say that you've wondered..."
A slow grin spread across Sam's face. "And you wanna know what I've dreamed about?"
"It's only fair," you replied, placing another kiss on his lips.
"Mmm... I guess that means I have to pick one. You're kinda hard not to think about -- but only if you're up for it."
"Anything you want."
Two strong arms wrapped around your body and pulled you ontop of him as he sat upright. He leaned back just enough to look you straight in the eyes, his own burning with lust. "I want you to ride me."
A sharp breath escaped your throat and you nodded slowly before crashing your lips back into his. The kiss was all fire, tongue, and teeth, the heat in your stomach building up again in anticipation. You pulled away, a dissapointed noise coming from Sam from the lack of contact. You hurriedly reached for his flannel pajama bottoms, where a visible tent had been pitched. Even through the fabric blocking you, you could tell Sam was big.
"It's not really fair that I'm the only one naked here," you said coyley, helping him remove the last bits of his clothing. Suddenly, there he was, completely stripped in front of you. You were right: he was huge, bigger than you thought. You're mouth watered a bit at the sight. You licked your hand, and reached for his member. A deep groan left his mouth as his head fell back and you began to stroke him. A bit of precum weeped from the tip of his cock and you slowly used your thumb to spread it around.
"Baby," Sam heaved, grabbing your hand, "you keep doing that and I'm not gonna last much longer." He pulled you back into his lap. "I wanna feel you around me," he said, his eyes dark. "Now." His hands found your hips and lifted you up before readying you above his hard cock. A noise you didn't know you were capable of making came from deep within you as he entered you. He just felt so good. He gave you a few moments to adjust to his size before lifting you up again and plunging back into you.
"Ho-- holy sh-- shit, Sam," you cried as his cock entered you over and over again, "Don't-- don't stop. Please, please." Your hands found his neck and you held on for dear life as he continued to fuck into you relentlessly. You ass slapped against his thighs as you bounced up and down. You had never felt a burn so good as your third orgasm of the night approached. "Sam! Sam! Sam! Sam!" His name came out as a desperate prayer. "I'm almost there," you managed, "oh-- oh my g-- god... Yes! Yes!"
"I'm right there with you, Y/N," he huffed, biting down on your neck. The sounds coming from Sam were practically animalistic. Each noise he made spurred you on, rocking your hips in time with his thrusts. The pressure in you burst and your pussy clenched around him, spasming through one of the most intense orgasms you'd ever had. Sam's hips continued snapping up to meet yours as you rode him through your orgasm.
"Come on, Sam-- I wanna feel you cum--" you barely managed to whimper into his ear. A filthy moan came from him as he slowed, his orgasm rippling through him. He help you tighter to his body and crashed his lips into yours once again. You rolled your hips slowly as he rode out his orgasm, your lips never leaving each other's.
Finally, you parted, if only for the necessity of air. Climbing off of Sam, you collapsed onto the matress next to him. You were both panting like you had run a ten mile marathon, and you were sure you'd be sore later.
"Anything like your dreams?"
Sam chuckled as he wrapped his arms around you. "Better," he grinned. "You know, we should share a bed more often," he said, placing a kiss on your shoulder.
