(no subject)
Title: Best. New Years Eve. Ever.
Author: rolleson
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rating: NC-17/Adult
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Spoilers: Season Nine
Warnings: Sex and swearing.
Notes: Sequel to Best Christmas Ever. I am very sorry for this fic. it wanders into bad!fic territory a couple of times and it truly is awful. Unbeta'd because, it is new years eve already.
“I thought we were going to spend new years eve together.”
“We will be together.”
“I meant alone. Like at Christmas.” She smiled at him in the mirror but continued to apply lipstick, even as he began to kiss her neck.
“I thought you were still sore from Christmas?”
“I know what would make me feel better though.”
“Please tell me you didn’t just say that.”
“Sorry.” He continued on kissing her neck, biting down a little here and there. She tilted her head to the side to let him carry on and applied a little mascara. “Do we really have to go to this party?”
“Do you want to tell the President why you don’t want to go to his party?”
“No.”
He sounded like a (petulant) child, he knew that, but he couldn’t help it. Christmas day had been fantastic, even with Daniel calling him persistently when he was going down on Sam. They had discussed doing the same for New Years Eve. There was talk of leather and whips but that was put aside for another day. A day when they could go and buy a whip.
From somewhere outside of DC.
The party had been dropped on him the next day. He was invited to a Presidential new years eve party. So was Carter, and Daniel, and a whole host of other people that he didn’t really want to share Sam with.
It wasn’t him being possessive, he really didn’t see the point in that but he had been expecting to be alone with her.
It wasn’t like they wouldn’t have sex at all tonight, or that they were running late because they’d been in bed sleeping but still, that was beside the point. There was a certain satisfaction (smugness) in knowing that he was limping because he had completely fucked his knee while fucking her.
“We’ve never been seen together you know.” He pulled his lips from her neck and frowned at her. “By these people, our friends, General Hammond.”
He had to think about it for a moment but she was completely right (of course). They had gone out and been places together, in DC mostly, but none of their friends had seen them together. He hadn’t really considered it important. Finding the places on her body that made her squirm, twist and turn, was much more interesting than sitting across from her in a restaurant, thinking about getting home and kissing, licking and biting those places (hard). Maybe (probably) it was important to Sam though.
They had spent the last eight months in their own little bubble, and mostly in bed, but it looked to him like Carter was coming out of the whole ‘can’t keep her hands of him phase’. Which worried him (a lot) because he really couldn’t keep his hands off her. His lips were still hovering close to her skin and his hands were resting on her arms, gently moving up and down, and he really wanted to strip her and fuck her all over again (and then again).
“Sorry Carter.”
“What for?”
She turned around to face him, she was so hot all the time, it was so irritating (distracting).
“For keeping you all to myself all this time. I didn’t mean to give you the impression I didn’t want to be seen with you.”
“I didn’t have that impression.”
“Oh.”
“I was thinking, if we went to this party, then our friends wouldn’t think our relationship was based on sex,” she said, “that all we do is have sex.”
“We do have a lot of sex Carter.”
“But I really don’t feel comfortable with Hammond knowing that.”
He smiled, maybe she wasn’t coming out of the ‘I can’t keep my hands (lips, body, everything) off you’ phase. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him soundly on the lips, pressing her body against his. He responded (quickly), his hands pulling her hips to his while backing her up against the chair. He started to pull her skirt up, bunching the material in his hands.
“We’re late.” She said, pulling away from him.
“It won’t take long.”
“Very romantic.”
“I know.” She smiled but pushed him away.
“We have a party to get to. I promise we can have sex next year.”
“Very funny.”
“I know.”
*
He was bored, frustrated and not nearly drunk enough. He’d shook hands with a lot of people he would probably (and hopefully) never see again. Unless he was invited to another Presidential new years eve party, which he hoped (desperately) he wouldn’t be.
Sam had disappeared during a (painfully) stilted conversation with a General Calder about something unimportant (something he couldn’t remember). He looked around for her, ignoring the advancing guests baying for his time. Why was he so popular tonight? He was starting to wish he had put on his uniform because it obviously put people off talking to him. Civilians anyway. Plus Carter had admitted to him having a couple of fantasies involving his uniform and it may have convinced her to stay at the hotel.
He had tried, all the way to the party he had tried, even in the taxi, his lips on her neck again, his hand inching up her leg under her skirt. She had hit him (really) hard when her skirt had ended up around her waist, his hand high on her thigh, his fingers brushing her underwear. Her attempts to stop him would’ve been much more convincing if she hadn’t been arching towards him ever so slightly at the same time.
He hadn’t succeed (obviously) and ended up paying for the cab and suffering with a hard on, while Sam straightened herself up, looking as calm and cool as ever.
Just thinking about it was getting him worked up again and he was starting to get irritable as well as frustrated. He knew he should be better than this, than the complete attraction that had sucked him in, but he wasn’t and he had to live with the fact that Sam Carter was hot.
Really, really hot.
He saw her by the bar, talking to Daniel, smiling at him and headed straight over to her, ploughing a path through the party. He came up to her side and kissed her on the cheek, hovering close to her, invading her personal space. Not that she seemed to notice, damn her.
“Carter, a moment of your time?” He said, adding a (pathetically) desperate ‘please’ on the end.
“Okay.” She smiled at Daniel and shrugged, putting her drink down before following him out of the main room and into the first door he came too.
Once inside what turned out to be a little closet, he pushed her up against the door and kissed her briefly.
“We should’ve stayed at the hotel.”
“You brought this on yourself Jack,” she said reaching down to grab his erection roughly, “by groping me in the taxi.”
“Hey careful!” She squeezed again and he groaned loudly.
“Shush.” She chastised, hitting him square in the chest gently. “Or I’ll tell them this was all your idea.”
“This was all my idea.” His hand were on her legs, moving up and under her skirt.
“I’m just letting you think that.” She grinned at him before kissing him, arching back into him as he continued to pressed her into the door, his hips moving ever so slightly as he bunched her skirt around her waist once again.
Suddenly he pulled away and turned her around.
“Jack.”
He ignored and positioned her body so that her hands were pressed flat against the door, her body bent at her waist, her skirt resting around her waist and her ass in the air.
He groaned (loudly) again.
“Jack, this is going to make my back sore.”
“Consider it punishment for making me come to this party.”
“I thought we were going to use a whip for that sort of thing.”
“Just shut up, it’s really distracting when you talk all the time.”
“But screaming my head off is okay?”
“Exactly.” He reached around her and slipped his hand into her underwear, his other hand going under her top. She squirmed a little under his touch before breathing out his name lightly as he pressed down on her clit.
“Actually, screaming is not okay, because I really don’t think the orchestra is that loud next door.” He told her, bending over her to talk in her ear as well as press his erection into her ass.
She didn’t answer and he pulled his hand out of her underwear, gaining a ‘m-uh’ noise in protest.
“Why the hell did he get an orchestra anyway?” She asked as he removed her underwear completely, dropping them on the floor. He unzipped his trousers and pulled them down, letting them pool around his ankles.
“Because he’s the President.” He said before thrusting into her sharply, causing her to cry out. “Shut up.”
She moaned out something but he wasn’t sure if it was ‘okay’ or ‘fuck off’ or ‘move’ and he really didn’t care because, oh god, she was so hot.
He made her happy, he’d figured that out over Christmas, and she made him happy too. She made his body (very) fucking happy and it did go a hell of a lot further than that but he really didn’t care about that right now. Really couldn’t process that right now. All he could do was move. Hold her hips and thrust into her hard and make her scream.
If they got caught then so be it. It would be worth it (maybe).
He was so worked up, somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware that he was going to finish quickly and before her. Not she minded when that happened (he was sure she was just being nice about it) but it really pissed him off. It meant more work for him after he had come, when he really didn’t have the energy to do anything other then collapse, let alone finger fuck her into the screaming oblivion she wanted (and expected).
With one hand holding her hip, he reached around her body again to put a finger to her clit.
“Jack.”
Dammit, every time, her voice, he just wished he could get her to shut up. He was going to get a gag, then she couldn’t make a sound. Couldn’t make the hot little ‘Jack’ cries she was currently making as he moved his finger in little circles. Couldn’t make those hot little high pitched ‘oh’ noises either. He was going to tie her down and gag her and then she would just shut up as he fucked her. If she didn’t have a brain the size of Colorado, he wouldn’t have this problem.
Then he probably wouldn’t love her as much.
He wasn’t that much of a guy. He didn’t just think she was hot, but oh god she was really, really hot.
Had he mentioned that already?
He knew his own brain wasn’t making much (any) sense but she was still making those high pitched ‘oh’ noises and he could feel how stupidly close she was to screaming because he was close to screaming.
And he never screamed.
First time for everything.
Suddenly, she took a hand from the wall and clamped it over her mouth to stifle her scream, the lack of support causing her to lose balance and fall the floor, and take him with her. They hit the floor in a crumpled half naked heap, breathing heavily.
“Oh god.”
“Oh fuck.”
He pulled himself from on top of her and helped her onto her back. His knee really hurt but he was so close and got she looked so hot all dishevelled and flushed on the floor and he really wasn’t willing to wait to see if she was okay because he really wouldn’t last much longer. He entered her again, quickly, making her gasp and making him realise that he could be a complete bastard sometimes and he didn’t even need to try.
But that was completely forgotten after a couple of thrusts when his world went black and everything was really, really good.
“Jack?” He opened his eyes to find her looking up at him, smiling at him. “You okay?”
“Shit.” He moved quickly, standing and stumbling a little. “Fuck.” She stood too, reaching out to touch him.
“Not okay then?”
“Sorry Carter.”
“What for?” She smiled at him. “You’re so fucking hot, you know that Jack?”
“Very romantic.”
“I know.” He kissed her quickly before bending down and picking up her underwear.
“I’m keeping these.” He said, waving them at her. He put them in his pocket and grinned.
“Fine.”
He groaned. So (fucking) hot.
“Tomorrow, I’m buying a gag.”
Author: rolleson
Fandom: Stargate SG-1
Rating: NC-17/Adult
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Spoilers: Season Nine
Warnings: Sex and swearing.
Notes: Sequel to Best Christmas Ever. I am very sorry for this fic. it wanders into bad!fic territory a couple of times and it truly is awful. Unbeta'd because, it is new years eve already.
“I thought we were going to spend new years eve together.”
“We will be together.”
“I meant alone. Like at Christmas.” She smiled at him in the mirror but continued to apply lipstick, even as he began to kiss her neck.
“I thought you were still sore from Christmas?”
“I know what would make me feel better though.”
“Please tell me you didn’t just say that.”
“Sorry.” He continued on kissing her neck, biting down a little here and there. She tilted her head to the side to let him carry on and applied a little mascara. “Do we really have to go to this party?”
“Do you want to tell the President why you don’t want to go to his party?”
“No.”
He sounded like a (petulant) child, he knew that, but he couldn’t help it. Christmas day had been fantastic, even with Daniel calling him persistently when he was going down on Sam. They had discussed doing the same for New Years Eve. There was talk of leather and whips but that was put aside for another day. A day when they could go and buy a whip.
From somewhere outside of DC.
The party had been dropped on him the next day. He was invited to a Presidential new years eve party. So was Carter, and Daniel, and a whole host of other people that he didn’t really want to share Sam with.
It wasn’t him being possessive, he really didn’t see the point in that but he had been expecting to be alone with her.
It wasn’t like they wouldn’t have sex at all tonight, or that they were running late because they’d been in bed sleeping but still, that was beside the point. There was a certain satisfaction (smugness) in knowing that he was limping because he had completely fucked his knee while fucking her.
“We’ve never been seen together you know.” He pulled his lips from her neck and frowned at her. “By these people, our friends, General Hammond.”
He had to think about it for a moment but she was completely right (of course). They had gone out and been places together, in DC mostly, but none of their friends had seen them together. He hadn’t really considered it important. Finding the places on her body that made her squirm, twist and turn, was much more interesting than sitting across from her in a restaurant, thinking about getting home and kissing, licking and biting those places (hard). Maybe (probably) it was important to Sam though.
They had spent the last eight months in their own little bubble, and mostly in bed, but it looked to him like Carter was coming out of the whole ‘can’t keep her hands of him phase’. Which worried him (a lot) because he really couldn’t keep his hands off her. His lips were still hovering close to her skin and his hands were resting on her arms, gently moving up and down, and he really wanted to strip her and fuck her all over again (and then again).
“Sorry Carter.”
“What for?”
She turned around to face him, she was so hot all the time, it was so irritating (distracting).
“For keeping you all to myself all this time. I didn’t mean to give you the impression I didn’t want to be seen with you.”
“I didn’t have that impression.”
“Oh.”
“I was thinking, if we went to this party, then our friends wouldn’t think our relationship was based on sex,” she said, “that all we do is have sex.”
“We do have a lot of sex Carter.”
“But I really don’t feel comfortable with Hammond knowing that.”
He smiled, maybe she wasn’t coming out of the ‘I can’t keep my hands (lips, body, everything) off you’ phase. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him soundly on the lips, pressing her body against his. He responded (quickly), his hands pulling her hips to his while backing her up against the chair. He started to pull her skirt up, bunching the material in his hands.
“We’re late.” She said, pulling away from him.
“It won’t take long.”
“Very romantic.”
“I know.” She smiled but pushed him away.
“We have a party to get to. I promise we can have sex next year.”
“Very funny.”
“I know.”
*
He was bored, frustrated and not nearly drunk enough. He’d shook hands with a lot of people he would probably (and hopefully) never see again. Unless he was invited to another Presidential new years eve party, which he hoped (desperately) he wouldn’t be.
Sam had disappeared during a (painfully) stilted conversation with a General Calder about something unimportant (something he couldn’t remember). He looked around for her, ignoring the advancing guests baying for his time. Why was he so popular tonight? He was starting to wish he had put on his uniform because it obviously put people off talking to him. Civilians anyway. Plus Carter had admitted to him having a couple of fantasies involving his uniform and it may have convinced her to stay at the hotel.
He had tried, all the way to the party he had tried, even in the taxi, his lips on her neck again, his hand inching up her leg under her skirt. She had hit him (really) hard when her skirt had ended up around her waist, his hand high on her thigh, his fingers brushing her underwear. Her attempts to stop him would’ve been much more convincing if she hadn’t been arching towards him ever so slightly at the same time.
He hadn’t succeed (obviously) and ended up paying for the cab and suffering with a hard on, while Sam straightened herself up, looking as calm and cool as ever.
Just thinking about it was getting him worked up again and he was starting to get irritable as well as frustrated. He knew he should be better than this, than the complete attraction that had sucked him in, but he wasn’t and he had to live with the fact that Sam Carter was hot.
Really, really hot.
He saw her by the bar, talking to Daniel, smiling at him and headed straight over to her, ploughing a path through the party. He came up to her side and kissed her on the cheek, hovering close to her, invading her personal space. Not that she seemed to notice, damn her.
“Carter, a moment of your time?” He said, adding a (pathetically) desperate ‘please’ on the end.
“Okay.” She smiled at Daniel and shrugged, putting her drink down before following him out of the main room and into the first door he came too.
Once inside what turned out to be a little closet, he pushed her up against the door and kissed her briefly.
“We should’ve stayed at the hotel.”
“You brought this on yourself Jack,” she said reaching down to grab his erection roughly, “by groping me in the taxi.”
“Hey careful!” She squeezed again and he groaned loudly.
“Shush.” She chastised, hitting him square in the chest gently. “Or I’ll tell them this was all your idea.”
“This was all my idea.” His hand were on her legs, moving up and under her skirt.
“I’m just letting you think that.” She grinned at him before kissing him, arching back into him as he continued to pressed her into the door, his hips moving ever so slightly as he bunched her skirt around her waist once again.
Suddenly he pulled away and turned her around.
“Jack.”
He ignored and positioned her body so that her hands were pressed flat against the door, her body bent at her waist, her skirt resting around her waist and her ass in the air.
He groaned (loudly) again.
“Jack, this is going to make my back sore.”
“Consider it punishment for making me come to this party.”
“I thought we were going to use a whip for that sort of thing.”
“Just shut up, it’s really distracting when you talk all the time.”
“But screaming my head off is okay?”
“Exactly.” He reached around her and slipped his hand into her underwear, his other hand going under her top. She squirmed a little under his touch before breathing out his name lightly as he pressed down on her clit.
“Actually, screaming is not okay, because I really don’t think the orchestra is that loud next door.” He told her, bending over her to talk in her ear as well as press his erection into her ass.
She didn’t answer and he pulled his hand out of her underwear, gaining a ‘m-uh’ noise in protest.
“Why the hell did he get an orchestra anyway?” She asked as he removed her underwear completely, dropping them on the floor. He unzipped his trousers and pulled them down, letting them pool around his ankles.
“Because he’s the President.” He said before thrusting into her sharply, causing her to cry out. “Shut up.”
She moaned out something but he wasn’t sure if it was ‘okay’ or ‘fuck off’ or ‘move’ and he really didn’t care because, oh god, she was so hot.
He made her happy, he’d figured that out over Christmas, and she made him happy too. She made his body (very) fucking happy and it did go a hell of a lot further than that but he really didn’t care about that right now. Really couldn’t process that right now. All he could do was move. Hold her hips and thrust into her hard and make her scream.
If they got caught then so be it. It would be worth it (maybe).
He was so worked up, somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware that he was going to finish quickly and before her. Not she minded when that happened (he was sure she was just being nice about it) but it really pissed him off. It meant more work for him after he had come, when he really didn’t have the energy to do anything other then collapse, let alone finger fuck her into the screaming oblivion she wanted (and expected).
With one hand holding her hip, he reached around her body again to put a finger to her clit.
“Jack.”
Dammit, every time, her voice, he just wished he could get her to shut up. He was going to get a gag, then she couldn’t make a sound. Couldn’t make the hot little ‘Jack’ cries she was currently making as he moved his finger in little circles. Couldn’t make those hot little high pitched ‘oh’ noises either. He was going to tie her down and gag her and then she would just shut up as he fucked her. If she didn’t have a brain the size of Colorado, he wouldn’t have this problem.
Then he probably wouldn’t love her as much.
He wasn’t that much of a guy. He didn’t just think she was hot, but oh god she was really, really hot.
Had he mentioned that already?
He knew his own brain wasn’t making much (any) sense but she was still making those high pitched ‘oh’ noises and he could feel how stupidly close she was to screaming because he was close to screaming.
And he never screamed.
First time for everything.
Suddenly, she took a hand from the wall and clamped it over her mouth to stifle her scream, the lack of support causing her to lose balance and fall the floor, and take him with her. They hit the floor in a crumpled half naked heap, breathing heavily.
“Oh god.”
“Oh fuck.”
He pulled himself from on top of her and helped her onto her back. His knee really hurt but he was so close and got she looked so hot all dishevelled and flushed on the floor and he really wasn’t willing to wait to see if she was okay because he really wouldn’t last much longer. He entered her again, quickly, making her gasp and making him realise that he could be a complete bastard sometimes and he didn’t even need to try.
But that was completely forgotten after a couple of thrusts when his world went black and everything was really, really good.
“Jack?” He opened his eyes to find her looking up at him, smiling at him. “You okay?”
“Shit.” He moved quickly, standing and stumbling a little. “Fuck.” She stood too, reaching out to touch him.
“Not okay then?”
“Sorry Carter.”
“What for?” She smiled at him. “You’re so fucking hot, you know that Jack?”
“Very romantic.”
“I know.” He kissed her quickly before bending down and picking up her underwear.
“I’m keeping these.” He said, waving them at her. He put them in his pocket and grinned.
“Fine.”
He groaned. So (fucking) hot.
“Tomorrow, I’m buying a gag.”