#sam: interaction

[redravenapts]

Sam: the one bad thing about being away for the holidays is that i miss you

Sam: ...and i miss going down on you

Sam: :(

[redravenapts]

[ open to females - Sam’s info here ]

This wasn’t exactly what Sam had been expecting to happen, but he couldn’t say he was disappointed. Ian’s cousin was getting married and his friend had basically annoyed him into going with; sure, it felt weird to be his best friend’s plus one at a wedding, but there was very little he wouldn’t have done for Ian. So he’d eventually said yes, pretty sure he was going to regret his decision. However, things turned out much different than he would have ever thought, and somehow, he’d ended up in one of the upstairs supply closets of the venue with one of the bridesmaids. He wasn’t usually the hook-up kind of guy, but between what little wine he’d drunk, which had helped him relax, and the fact that she was beautiful and clearly into him, he’d decided to just go for it, for once. “Fuck, this dress has too many layers,” he laughed against her neck, just as his hand managed to find its way to her panties. “I mean, you look gorgeous in it, but naked bridesmaids sound like such a good idea, right now,” he muttered, his grin unfaltering even as he kissed his way back to her lips and his fingers finally sneaked past her panties.

[redravenapts]

Ian: the barista at starbucks just wrote his name and phone number on my cup

Ian: and a little heart, awww

Ian: I don't wanna break his heart, but how do I tell him I've already got a girlfriend AND a boyfriend?

Sam: that is adorably inappropriate

Sam: wait so i'm your boyfriend now?

Sam: Belle did you know this?

[redravenapts]

@scnsualis

Sam and Belle talked, it was one of the reasons their relationship worked so well; sure, he still had a few skeletons in his closet, but he told her more than he’d ever told anyone else. And among the things they shared, dirty fantasies hadn’t taken long to come out; not that they discussed them in detail, but they had a pretty good idea of each other’s secret desires, even those they’d never really act on. Which was mostly why Sam wasn’t currently freaking out. Ian had come over for dinner, and like the well-mannered guy that he was, he’d brought wine. So had Belle. They’d worked through the two bottles way too quickly after they were done eating, which was probably how they’d ended up on the couch, Sam and Ian on either side of Belle, and sitting way closer than the norm. The conversation had been peppered with laughs, making all of them relax and ease into more spicy topics, mostly because both Sam and Ian just loved how flustered Belle got.  Things, however, had escalated, and Sam wasn’t sure how, but he had a strong suspicion Ian was to blame. No matter who was responsible for starting it, however, here they were, Sam’s lips moving over Belle’s, while Ian’s hand rubbed her thigh soothingly, his mouth pressed against the skin of her neck, right behind her ear. “You sure you’re both good with this?” Ian muttered, just barely loud enough for them to hear him. “I’m not trying to steal your girl, mate, but bloody hell.” Sam pulled back from the kiss, and despite the slightly drunken grin triggered by his friend’s words, his eyes immediately searched Belle’s expression to try and see if she was, indeed, okay with it. Ian was probably the only guy in the world he’d trust with this, but he wanted to make sure Belle actually wanted this, and that the fantasy she’d shared with him wasn’t one she’d meant to keep unfulfilled. “You okay, babe?” 

[redravenapts]

[ open to females, Sam’s info here ]

“Please, by all means, go ahead and look shocked. It’s your dad’s super fancy party thing, of course I dressed up,” Sam pointed out with a laugh, quite amused at his girlfriend’s surprise at seeing him in a proper suit. “I mean, I’m pretty sure he hates me already, so I’m not gonna show up looking like a... what did he call me? Right, a hipster.” He couldn’t help grimacing as he remembered that first uncomfortable conversation; he’d been in jeans and hoodie, which seemed to be some sort of crime, according to the man's standards. “That hurt, by the way. You should really give your father a crash course on new social categories or something.”

[redravenapts]

[ open to females, Sam’s info here  - warning: slavery]

Sam was going through his mail as he walked up to his apartment, his only class for the day over. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a letter from a former associate of his foster father; there was no stamp on it, which meant it had been hand delivered. The whole crew who’d participated in the heist two years earlier had agreed on not leaving any trace of their contact with each other, and to only get in touch if necessary. Sam opened the letter hastily as he walked into his home, afraid something could have happened to his foster family. Instead, he found an invitation inside, with an address and a time, along with today’s date. It felt like the shadiest thing ever, and he briefly wondered if this was maybe a trap set up by the police. He decided to just forget about it, and threw the letter in the trash.

Only, he didn’t forget about it. Hours later, he found himself fishing the letter out to check the address. If the police truly were behind this, he needed to find out. He dressed quickly and called up a taxi to drive him to the address, but was careful to pay cash and not leave a trace. Once he got to the building in question, he started to doubt his theory about the police. It was a private residence just out of town, and the gate was guarded by two Dwayne Johnson clones. He showed the invitation and was let in without as much as a word, but once he reached the front door and entered the big villa, his blood froze. 

All around him in the big hall there were cages with people inside. Most of them were young, some older, but all of them had chains around their wrists, and from what he could see, a dead look in their eyes. “Welcome, here’s tonight’s catalog, sir.” Sam almost didn’t register the words as the young man handed him a small binder. Inside, there was a file on each of the caged people, detailing their physical characteristics and other, much more intimate information. And a price. Sam felt nauseous as he turned the pages, and almost left right then. He was horrified that such an event could even happen, and angry his foster father’s associate had thought he could have been interested. He was about to leave when he caught sight of the last cage on his right, where a young girl was sitting with her knees against her chest. She looked utterly terrified, and as he approached, she started crying. “She would be an excellent choice, sir, she’s new and you’d get to break her in,” the valet told him. All Sam wanted to do was break his face in, but he held back. “I’ll take her.” The words were out of Sam’s mouth before he could fully finish his thought; all he knew was that he had to get that girl out of there, no matter what it cost him. “Very well, sir, we’ll have her ready for you in a transport. The office for payments is upstairs.” 

Sam glanced at the terrified girl once again, before he headed upstairs; he couldn’t wait to get out of that nightmare. Once the payment was transferred from one of his offshore accounts, he was led to a van and ushered into the back, and to his horror, he saw the girl there, with nothing but a robe on, shaking like a leaf in her cage. “It’s okay, just calm down, please,” he whispered, not wanting the driver to hear them; he was pretty sure these people didn’t take well to whoever wanted to free their slaves. He figured it would have been bad for business. It was a painfully silent and tense ride home, but twenty minutes later, the car stopped in front of his building. The driver and another man fastened a crate around the cage, then proceeded to transport it to his apartment, the content hidden. 

Sam was going through all of this on autopilot, and it took him a few seconds to realize the men were gone, and he was now alone with the crate. He locked his front door, then tore the lid off the container, worried. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s over, I promise.” Yet, for some reason, he still whispered as he looked at the frightened girl. “Wha-- what’s your name?”

[redravenapts]

@eloquentmuses

Sam was pretty sure stuff like this only happened in movies, but there he was, re-reading the message he got from Sara like maybe he’d missed a word. Or twenty. He’d spent plenty of dinners at her house, her husband often away on business and leaving her wanting company; Sam had been more than glad to be that company, especially because it involved food that didn’t come in tin foil or cartons. And then there was the small detail of Sam having the worst crush in history for Sara. 

He hadn’t really thought about acting on it, of course; she was married and she’d seemed happy, at first. But then one night their conversation had led to some pretty interesting confessions about the real reason she felt so lonely, and from there, things had escalated. Sam wasn’t particularly proud about how not guilty he felt about it, especially now that Sara was inviting him over for dinner again. He re-read the message for the tenth time, then smiled as he typed his reply: “I’ll be there in 5″

He figured one of those nights, if she kept inviting him over, he should probably bring a bottle of wine or something. For tonight, however, he simply grabbed his phone, made sure to wear a decent pair of jeans and t-shirt, and then headed over. He had a two-seconds hesitation before he knocked, but it was gone by the time the door opened, a smile on his face. “Hey.” 

[redravenapts]

[ open to females, Sam’s info here ]

“I wasn’t trying to be a hero,” Sam protested, moving the ice pack away from his bruised eye just long enough to glare at his friend as she stood in his living room. She’d been with him at the bar when he’d stepped in to defend one of the waitresses; to somewhat moderate success. “I just did what any decent human being would have done.” Granted, in doing so he’d picked a fight with a 200 pounds, 6 feet tall drunk jackass biker with biceps the size of a respectable tree trunk. All in all, he felt lucky about his black eye.