Discover Top Posts Tagged with #naughty sam

Something about "ramming it down there” "enjoying it," and "looking forward to next time" 😏🤭😂

Their facial expressions 🤭

Caitriona's "mm-hmm" 🤣

Happy weekend, shippers! ❤️

Here's the full video ⬇️

#caitriona balfe #sam heughan #outlander #samcait #sam cait #naughty sam #shocked cait #funny #receipt #Youtube

Commission for anonymous Word Count: 2052 Rating: M Summary: A sort-of continuation of a previous commission Pairing: Friend!Mike and Lucifer!

When Mike's phone buzzed against his thigh, he didn't even need to look at it to know who it was; even if it hadn't been nearly one am, pretty much everyone he knew was at that party with him. Including Stan. Awkwardly, he reached for his pocket, gently holding his drink between his knees while he tried not to bump anyone with his elbows. He, Chelle and another boy from school were crammed onto a little couch, Natalie and Stan sitting on the floor, scattered, with a few others. Stan had already put his phone away- Mike hadn't even seen him pull it out, but he knew it was from him. This is boring. He snorted to himself, not bothering to respond. Mike actually really enjoyed parties; he liked seeing his friends and dancing around and just doing stupid teenager-y stuff. Secretly he thought Stan kind of liked it too. Before he could say so, Stan got up and let himself out. He didn't even bother to tell Natalie he was going. Meet me outside, the next text said. Oh, boy. He'd seen that one coming. He waited a few minutes, counting ten Mississippi's in his head, doing it over 5 or 6 times until he was sure at least a minute had passed. If it looked like they were leaving together, he doubted anyone would really question it. Stan was mostly worried about Nat, and although Mike wasn't entirely sure why, he kind of agreed that he wasn't ready to tell them about.... 'them'. He turned red just thinking about it. Stan didn't speak when he first saw Mike emerge from the house. He shoved his hands in his pockets and started off walking, and Mike just had to stumble after him, sticking close when there weren't any street lights to light the way. Ahead, Mike saw a bench, so he went and sat down. “What's with the guilty look?” Stan asked, plopping onto the seat beside him. Mike ground his heel into the dirt. “Should we tell Nat? I feel bad...” Scoffing, Stan rolled his eyes. “Why? It isn't her business. It's not like she runs our lives-- well, not yours, anyway.” He added, mostly to himself- and Mike didn't question what he could have meant. “She doesn't know, so it feels like... sneaking?” “We are sneaking- that's the fun part, kid.” He loosely wrapped an arm around Mike's shoulders. “I doubt she'd approve, anyway.” He chewed his lip. “You think so? He brother is bi, I think, so I don't think she's like, a homophobe or anything.” “Probably not, but she can be a bit of a me-phobe. She wants me to make friends, so for now, that's all we are, right?” Mike sat in silence for a while, so Stan took his cheeks between his forefinger and thumb and turned his head to kiss him. It'd been a fair few weeks since they'd started.... whatever this was- and Mike still lit up like a Christmas tree every time he was kissed, or groped, or their thighs touched when they sat too close. Lucifer thought it was kind of pathetic, but Mike was cute, and compliant, so he put up with it. Something coiled and uncoiled in his gut, and it almost felt like affection. He didn't have time to sit on that confusing feeling, though, because a few seconds later his phone started buzzing and The Girl was chattering in his ear about where the heck he was. Stan sighed, hanging up without saying a word to her. “Lets go back. If she asks, you came looking for me.” So they went back, Stan dragging his feet and Mike filling in the silence with talk about school, his parents, and a lot of other things Stan pretended not to care about. Since they'd been lame and tried to leave the party early, they were 'volunteered' as the next contestants for the groups game of truth or dare- Stan, predictably, pushed Mike forward first. “Truth.” He said instantly, and a few people around him rolled their eyes. The girl who'd asked- a pretty blonde girl called Charlie that he barely knew from school- cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. Mike glanced over at Stan and his face said it all; what a fucking bimbo this girl was. “Oh, I know!” She said suddenly, and he jumped. “Tell us who you like!” He tried to laugh it off. “C'mon, guys. We're nearly in collage. Don't you think we're a bit old for questions like this?” “You're being a chicken!” “Go on, Mike!” Someone else called. “Tell us, tell us!” Mike didn't dare look up. He knew if he looked over at Stan, everyone would know. He stopped for a moment, and thought. Would Stan be angrier if he said his name, or Natalie's? “I change my mind. I choose dare.” The group broke out into loud boos and hisses, and Stan nudged him, laughing at his cowardice. Stan wasn't secretive about how badly he wanted sex. Mike thought his absolute lack of subtlety was kind of endearing, and despite it, he never felt pressured. They couldn't really go to bars and stuff, so usually when they met up, it was in a park or something; it was almost always empty at that time of night, too, which gave Michael a little bit of extra courage. Sometimes, he invited Stan over; his younger sisters thought he was nice, which was a feat in itself since he hated kids. He'd met Mikes mother once and only once, and after an icy stare down between them, Stan had sat down and let her feed him, saying nothing but the occasional 'thank you', which Michael took as a victory to his mom. He'd barely ever had the house to himself, so naturally as soon as he did he decided to invite Stan over. “I'm not clueless.” He said finally, locking his bedroom door behind them, mostly out of habit than because he needed to. “I know what it means when you.... you know. Invite someone in after a date.” There was a short silence before Stan burst out laughing. “Fuck, kid, you are such a princess. Oh, I get it- you're trying to be romantic.” Mike glared at the ground, arms crossed. “You don't have to be so mean.” “No? I guess you're right. I guess I shouldn't be mean- since you're about to let me fuck you, and all.” Mike felt himself go completely pink. Yeah, okay, he should have known Stan would be like this. Still, he was too embarrassed to speak. In the corner of his eye, he saw Stan's grin widen. “Oh, unless- unless you'd like to fuck me, instead? Should we rock, paper, scissors for it?” “Stoooooppp!” He whined, scrubbing at his face. Stan didn't hesitate. He didn't pause and ask 'are you sure', or stop to comfort him. Instead, he just kissed him, stroking his thumb over his thigh. Which was, Mike thought, almost as good. Gingerly, he shrugged off his jacket, letting it pool underneath him. It.... wasn't how Michael had imagined it. He'd had more of a gentle-love making picture in his head, but it soon occurred to him that that wasn't Stan's style at all. God, it was good though. He bit into Stan's shoulder to keep himself quiet, which, he thought, must have hurt. To his surprise (okay, it wasn't that surprising), Stan seemed to like it, a lot, and he rewarded every sharp nip with a small sound at the back of his throat, something Mike hadn't ever expected to hear. Stan was taking it slow, spreading him open while his blood was pounding in his ears. He'd already been hard when Stan had tugged off his jeans, leaning down to kiss the inside of his thighs and the soft skin of his stomach. Each place he kissed, he left a dark, sore bite mark, leaving a trail of hickys all up and down his thighs- and all the while he was testing the waters, seeing how deep he could slide his fingers before Mike made any noises of protest. Finally, Finally, Stan propped him up on his knees, threading an arm around his chest and holding his against him, his hard-on pressed against the back of Mike's thigh. “Tell me you want me.” Stan hissed against his ear, and Mikes knees trembled. “Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you.” Mikes hesitated. “.....P-Please fuck me. I want- I want you so badly.” He said finally, when he could get over the fact that ever drop of longing and desperation was right there in his voice. His mouth opened into a wordless gasp when Stan finally let his hips drop, and he slowly lowered himself onto his hard length. He was fairly certain that if Stan didn't have one arm wrapped around him, he would have collapsed. He was sore and embarrassed, but wanting wanting wanting. Mike tossed his head back against Stan's shoulder, gasping, and Stan latched his mouth onto his throat, kissing and sucking and biting. Then, he started to move. He slowly drew out, and Mike whimpered despite himself, his head spinning. Then he pushed in again, and it was the best and worst feeling in the world. “Oh, fuck...” Stan growled, his voice rough and almost feral with need. Stan bent him forward and he gripped the sheets, squeezing his eyes shut. With a hand on either hip, he picked up the pace, digging his nails into Michaels skin and leaving marks. Michael's whole body rocked and he let out a whimper, all but seeing stars. Stan's raspy breathing and desperate sighs made the hot, heavy feeling inside Mike's stomach a hundred times more intense. That feeling suddenly spiked, and he was coming, feeling hot to the very tips of his fingers. Her let out a strangled moan as he came all over the sheets, Stan stilling for long enough to let him ride out his orgasm, his knees weak. He opened his mouth to speak, although he wasn't even entirely sure what he was going to say, other than maybe than 'wow'. And then Stan was moving again. Michael had thought he'd been prepared for sex; he was wrong. He'd never felt so full, so sore, so good. His blood was pounding in his temples and his bed shook with every forceful thrust from Stan's end. He'd long-since given up trying to support himself, his face pressed against the sheets, his breathing ragged. If Stan had been gentle at any point, he'd given up on it after Mike had come the first time, his grip leaving marks on his skin as he pounded him into the mattress. He felt Stan's thighs quiver against his own, his grip tightening to the point that the pain was almost not pleasurable any more. Stan squeezed his eyes shut, cold sweat dripping down his back, and a quiet but definite whimper escaped from the back of his throat. Desperately, Mike twisted his head, trying to look back, to beg to kiss, for more, something. Anything. And then.... he thought he saw something. A flash of red, maybe. Mike's eyes went wide, and he opened his mouth to speak, but then Stan was coming, moaning deep from his chest and curling around him After a few moments of stillness and silence, Stan started untangling himself, sitting up a bit to look Mike in the eye. “What's with the face?” “I thought you had... horns for a moment. Isn't that weird?” “That last orgasm clearly fried your brain.” He said dryly, rolling over a bit to lay beside him. “I'd normally leave by now, you know. But knowing you, you wouldn't like that.” He paused, before agreeing. “No, you're right. I wouldn't.” Stan snorted. “I'll leave in the morning.” “After breakfast.” “.....Alright, after breakfast.” He relented. “I'm not listening to your bratty little sister talk about soccer, though. Not again.” Mike leaned up to kiss him, pleased with their agreement. He ran his hand down Stan's bare chest, just because he could. “Mom and the girls are with my aunt, anyway.” “Oh, good. We don't have to wear clothes, then.” He laughed, but he knew that Stan wasn't really joking. “Maybe.”

#Naughtysam #Naughty SaM #Satan and Me #SaM #Toastie Writes