Stargate SG1: 11 Reasons Sam Carter Likes Baal (When She Really Shouldn’t): Sam/Baal [NC17]
Fandom: Stargate SG1
Characters: Sam Carter, Baal, mention of Cam
Pairing: Sam/Baal
Rating: NC17
Warnings: adult scenes, uses of the f and both c words.
Word Count: 620
There’s the way he dresses, for a start: leather trousers and knee-high boots, an ostentatious coat that would look completely ridiculous on anyone else. On him it looks regal, makes him look like the god he claims to be, and she’s slightly jealous that he can carry it off with such style.
He is vain about his appearance and she sort of likes that, too. Class isn’t something she sees in the SGC and the most of the men she knows don’t give a damn about how they look. It’s a care that dates to a different age, like chivalry and he can be that, when it suits him.
Most of the time though, it doesn’t and he’s not beneath making digs. Her gender, species, intelligence; nothing escapes his notice and everything is held up against his exacting standard. His sniping annoys her, gets under her skin, and more often that not is why she fights with him: verbal spars that she secretly enjoys.
The way he smirks leads her to believe he enjoys their arguments as well. For all that he says that she is a waste of his time, he still comes back time and again. She suspects that she represents a challenge that he can’t resist, doesn’t truly wish to.
It starts with a look. He stares at her and she wonders if he’s trying to figure her out. God knows she’s intrigued by him. She shouldn’t be, but perhaps it’s the lure of the dark side as much as the way his gaze heats her blood.
And it turns out that their fights have been some sort of foreplay. She discovers this during another argument, when she shoves him and his response is to grab and kiss her. Lust surges and one thing leads very rapidly to them fucking each other senseless.
His lips turn out to be as talented at kissing as they are delivering snark. She gasps as they trail her throat, circle a nipple. He moves lower still and she groans, combs her fingers through his short hair.
His hands are busy, too. Her skin burns under his caresses and she arches into his touch, wanting more, more, more. She whispers his name as his hands between her legs. Her head drops against his shoulder and she shudders and shudders.
So one form of friction is exchanged for another and quite frankly she likes it like this. He is not gentle, but neither does he hurt her as he bents her over an Ancient console and fucks her from behind. Skin rubs against skin: his hands on her hips, his cock deep in her cunt. It creates sparks that explode behind her eyelids and she bites a fist to smother her scream.
Because he’s kinky and likes to take hear where the others could hear. The fact that they can be discovered at any moment both horrifies her and serves to turn her on more. It doesn’t bother him, but then it’s not his career on the line. Hers is.
Yet she continues to flirt with danger by flirting with him. Alfresco sex with the enemy becomes an addiction she cannot shake, a bad habit that she cannot break. She isn’t sure that she wants to, even though she knows that she’ll be discovered sooner or later. She starts to keep clean knickers in her locker because the ones she wears are inevitably soaked when she comes back to base.
If she comes back with them at all: he claims a pair made of black lace and red silk, and puts it in the pocket of his coat. And Cam wonders why she goes pink whenever Baal shows up in that particular outfit.
Characters: Sam Carter, Baal, mention of Cam
Pairing: Sam/Baal
Rating: NC17
Warnings: adult scenes, uses of the f and both c words.
Word Count: 620
There’s the way he dresses, for a start: leather trousers and knee-high boots, an ostentatious coat that would look completely ridiculous on anyone else. On him it looks regal, makes him look like the god he claims to be, and she’s slightly jealous that he can carry it off with such style.
He is vain about his appearance and she sort of likes that, too. Class isn’t something she sees in the SGC and the most of the men she knows don’t give a damn about how they look. It’s a care that dates to a different age, like chivalry and he can be that, when it suits him.
Most of the time though, it doesn’t and he’s not beneath making digs. Her gender, species, intelligence; nothing escapes his notice and everything is held up against his exacting standard. His sniping annoys her, gets under her skin, and more often that not is why she fights with him: verbal spars that she secretly enjoys.
The way he smirks leads her to believe he enjoys their arguments as well. For all that he says that she is a waste of his time, he still comes back time and again. She suspects that she represents a challenge that he can’t resist, doesn’t truly wish to.
It starts with a look. He stares at her and she wonders if he’s trying to figure her out. God knows she’s intrigued by him. She shouldn’t be, but perhaps it’s the lure of the dark side as much as the way his gaze heats her blood.
And it turns out that their fights have been some sort of foreplay. She discovers this during another argument, when she shoves him and his response is to grab and kiss her. Lust surges and one thing leads very rapidly to them fucking each other senseless.
His lips turn out to be as talented at kissing as they are delivering snark. She gasps as they trail her throat, circle a nipple. He moves lower still and she groans, combs her fingers through his short hair.
His hands are busy, too. Her skin burns under his caresses and she arches into his touch, wanting more, more, more. She whispers his name as his hands between her legs. Her head drops against his shoulder and she shudders and shudders.
So one form of friction is exchanged for another and quite frankly she likes it like this. He is not gentle, but neither does he hurt her as he bents her over an Ancient console and fucks her from behind. Skin rubs against skin: his hands on her hips, his cock deep in her cunt. It creates sparks that explode behind her eyelids and she bites a fist to smother her scream.
Because he’s kinky and likes to take hear where the others could hear. The fact that they can be discovered at any moment both horrifies her and serves to turn her on more. It doesn’t bother him, but then it’s not his career on the line. Hers is.
Yet she continues to flirt with danger by flirting with him. Alfresco sex with the enemy becomes an addiction she cannot shake, a bad habit that she cannot break. She isn’t sure that she wants to, even though she knows that she’ll be discovered sooner or later. She starts to keep clean knickers in her locker because the ones she wears are inevitably soaked when she comes back to base.
If she comes back with them at all: he claims a pair made of black lace and red silk, and puts it in the pocket of his coat. And Cam wonders why she goes pink whenever Baal shows up in that particular outfit.