#sam drake x reader

[durrtydawg]

A Brief Encounter

{Sam Drake x F!Reader Smut}

You’d agreed not to give each other gifts this year, but after a rather crass Secret Santa gift from Sam at his brother’s Christmas party, it’d be rude not to return the favour. So, when he subtly beckons you to meet him into his brother’s airing cupboard, you’re all too happy to accept the invitation.

a/n: this isn't the best, and christmas is pretty much done and dusted, but i'm a bit low and it helped to write this, so I hope you enjoyyy!!

Word Count: 5.3k

WARNINGS: 18+, unprotected p in v, oral (f&m), friends with benefits type beat, erring on the 'too much' side of pining, but that's how i roll so sorry if that's not your jam. I have NOT proof read this fully, so there are bound to be mistakes but I am OVER it. Enjoy, lovelies x

Curiosity and anticipation mingle as you slip into the cramped space, closing the door as slowly and as discreetly as possible. You down the remainder of your amaretto and coke, placing the glass beside Sam as you wince at the unmixed alcohol that coats your tongue.

The moment the latch clicks, the same smirk he’d given you from across the room mere minutes ago returns as he swallows a mouthful of beer. "Fancy meeting you here," he quips, his voice low and provocative, the red tinsel draped over his shoulders offsetting a warm glow over his face. You don’t want to take him seriously.

“I’ve got a bone to pick with you.” You scoff, leaning against the dryer as you’re enveloped by the smell of detergent and clean linen. “Crappy wrapping, tacky gift. I should’ve known you were my Secret Santa the moment it was handed over.”

“Alright, I can’t excuse the wrapping, but, I’ll have you know that these,” He removes a hand from the counter, pulling the offending garment from where it’s poking out of your skirt's pocket, catching you off guard and eliciting a quiet yelp from you as he slingshots the material against your forearm.

“Ow!” You attempt to smack his hand, but his reflexes are quick, and he swipes it out of reach just in time, placing a finger over your lips.

“Keep your squawking down.” He warns with a slightly sardonic half-smile, shaking his head towards the door. “These were not cheap. I don’t scrimp on my favourite girl.” He holds them up to the small lamp on the shelf behind him and you blush a little. “Plus, I just know it’s gonna look fantastic on you.” He shrugs, smug, and satisfied.

You roll your eyes, smirking as you adjust your volume. "Really, though, Samuel? ‘Ho ho ho’? A thong? Real smooth.”

His response accompanies a smug grin. "Well, I had to get you something that matches your…” He holds his beer just shy of his lips as he mulls over his thoughts for a second, “You.”

You snort in response, folding your arms as your brows raise, the two of you locking metaphorical, and very flirtatiously charged horns. “Oh! Well, in that case, we’ll have to get you a matching pair!”

He chuckles into his beer bottle, taking a swig before placing it beside him. He goads you with his look- a soft furrow of his brows that says ‘elaborate’.

“Dragging me into your brother’s airing cupboard in the middle of his impeccably planned Christmas party? Hardly the behaviour of someone who isn’t a… ‘ho ho ho’ themselves.” You feel yourself stifle a giggle- what a stupid conversation.

Ah, who gives a shit. You’re both tipsy, and you both know what’s about to happen.

Sam licks the remnants of his beer off of his lips, pushing himself away from the counter with an amused grin. His smug smile, a silent agreement, sets the stage for what both of you have been dancing around all night. The atmosphere becomes charged, filled with unspoken needs that have lingered in stolen glances and exchanged banter amongst a crowd of drunken acquaintances and giddy friends.

“You must be sorely mistaken, gorgeous.” He starts as his hands brace themselves onto the dryer, gently caging you in. “I wanted to help out my little brother by… folding towels. You know- keep him in the wife’s good books.”

In the intimate, shrunken space of the airing cupboard, the atmosphere thickens as his joke hangs between Sam and you, a veil of playfulness concealing the underlying, and oh so mouth-watering tension that’s coarsening your skin with goosebumps.

“Folding towels. That’s what we’re calling it now?” You grin, though your voice takes on a slightly lower tone as he leans over you. God, he smells fantastic.

The slight wrinkle in his navy t-shirt is a telltale sign that he’s obviously pulled it straight from the dryer and thrown it on as he left his apartment; but that damn jacket. Recently washed, yes, but never rid of that tinge of cigarette smoke that’s practically woven its way into the denim by now; a little aftershave spritzed over it as to not cause offence to those that despise his poor habit, accompanied by… him; A gentle amber muskiness diluted by the subtle red fruit scent that’s interwoven itself into him during his winter period of reluctant domesticity.

“Shame you’ve not got these on now, ya know.” He takes another look at the thong before abandoning it on the top of the washer, re-assuming his position over you. “Red’s definitely your colour. Always has been.”

His eyes make a show of their journey up and down your frame, and much to your own chagrin, you feel your face heat up even more. You should be used to this by now. Your little arrangement has been going on for almost a year. Yet every time, he’s got you blushing like a high school kid with a crush on their teacher.

Sam grins, shoulders jolting with a chuckle as he watches the redness spread across your cheeks.

“Aw. See? Adorable.”

“Stop it.” You chide, head turning to the side as you try to hide the consistent blush bleeding across your face. As if his ego needs to be given any more fuel.

“Stop what?” He smirks, knowing full-well what you mean. You frown. “Ohhh.” He over exaggerates, grinning wide as his head flops sideways in search of your face. “Making you blush? Doesn’t take much, does it?”

“No. I’m not gonna stop.” Sam's smug smile lingers, a subtle spark in his eyes made visible by the warm glow of the lamp. The air crackles with anticipation as he leans in, his lips brushing yours with a teasing tenderness that makes your hairs stand on end. His eyes are sly, and of course seductive, provoking you to lean in and close the gap. He’s offering the illusion of a situation where you get to take charge.

But he’s done this before, and things never go that way.

Not that you mind, of course.

Each passing second adds fuel to the simmering fire as you feel his thumbs grace your wrists at either side of you. You hold steady, your eyes narrowing towards his in a sort of stand off. You’re not going to cave first.

Though… it’s becoming more and more of a challenge as he leans further into you, your back pressed hard against the edge of the dryer as he imposes fully on your personal space. You can feel how hard he is through his jeans.

His head dips down, and you feel light stubble scratch against your jaw as he laughs softly, yet there’s still an undeniable smugness to it that makes your hands go clammy. “I intend to keep that blush of yours nice an’ vibrant for the foreseeable, sweetheart.”

And just like that, you’re butter in his hands. Melted butter, mind you- it’s fucking boiling in here.

You mutter a quiet “fuck sake” in a poor attempt at saving face, but as his lips press against the spot just beneath your ear, you know things are about to progress quickly- just like they always do when the two of you are alone. A few more pecks down your neck, and you breathe in; your nipples rub against your bra, and you exhale shakily as his teeth come into play. Sam removes his hands from your wrists, respectively taking a hold of your waist and your hair, keeping you pressed against him as he reddens your neck, bit by bit, and- God- the sight of him still wearing that jacket is making you feel like you’re in the depths of a furnace. He’s not even breaking a sweat. Bastard.

You find your hands weaving underneath the sherpa, clawing at his dark tee ’til you reach his shoulders. You tuck your hands underneath, and as if telepathy exists, he shunts the jacket off, along with the tinsel, lips still trailing a series of small bruises along your neck.

They fall to the floor, buttons clack-clattering against the washer behind him- dangerously loud whilst whatever song is playing outside seems to be in the midst of a quiet bridge- and you both break apart to stare at the door, wide-eyed and breathing heavily.

After a few butterfly-inducing seconds, a new song starts and someone whoops loudly- you’re safe.

Sam looks back at you with a relieved smile. It’s too innocent and uncharacteristic, so you push him off of the diving board, straight into the deep end; fingers tugging him down to your level by the scalp, using his slight moment of surprise to shove him back into the washer as your lips find his.

Sam's hands trace a path of yearning along your back; they dive under your tacky ‘tinsel tits’ sweater in search of skin, and as his calloused, scarred hands meet the smooth softness of your back, he hums quietly into you, as if he’s checked something off of a to-do list. You take it upon yourself to tick off another, and your free hand reaches down to give him a teasing squeeze through his jeans.

You both smirk in tandem, but as you one-handedly pull out his t-shirt’s French-Tuck- his lazy attempt at sprucing himself up- and your dexterous fingers unhook his belt buckle in one fell swoop, his smirk falters slightly.

Smugness now replaced by an urgent need, he pulls you tighter against him, and the air becomes charged with the electricity of your concealed connection as you unbutton his jeans. Your hand snakes past the zipper, thumb testing the waters with a teasing stroke over the fabric of his boxers as you push your tongue into his mouth. He tastes of nicotine that’s been drowned in alcohol, Nathan’s experimental lebkuchen, and a stick of cheap gum, and as your hand wraps around him completely, you cannot get enough.

Sam fights against your tongue with his own, brows scrunching every so often as you slowly pump his cock in your palm. Shutting him up is always pleasant, and always rare, so you savour every second, watching as a flush of his own begins to make an appearance across his cheeks. Two can play at that game, you think to yourself, your core seizing in anticipation.

A wandering hand squeezes at your ass under your skirt, and as you roll your thumb over his tip, you pull your lips from his, making sure to take in the sight of his growing arousal. You smile knowingly, your other hand freeing his hair so your thumb can swipe away saliva from his lips. You give him a gentle peck, made teasing by the smirk that accompanies it before you pull away from him and crouch slightly.

Pushing up his t-shirt a little, your smirk deepens as you take in the quick rise and fall of his stomach as he breathes fast in expectancy. You kiss him; a soft, open-mouthed peck over each scar, tongue rolling across the hair trailing along his belly, down lower, and lower, fingers pulling aside the waistband of his jeans.

Sam’s hands find purchase on the edge of the washing machine, eyes transfixed on you as you expose him, jeans pulled down just enough to give you access, but still modest enough for any hasty getaway that may be required.

You lower yourself fully to your knees, and the temperature is too much now. You pull off your sweater, placing it gently aside as you twist your hair into a makeshift pony, throwing it over a shoulder. He’s well-groomed. It’s almost as if he knew this was going to happen.

“Don’t be too quiet.” You look up at him. “I love hearing my pretty boy lose his composure.” You smile innocently, taking him in your hand again.

“Shut ya mouth. Calling’ me shit like that.” He laughs in response. The way his cheeks take on a soft pink hue sets you aflame; it’s evidence that his annoyance his feigned. He likes being called ‘shit like that’.

You giggle quietly, tongue licking a stripe up from his balls to his tip, before you let spit roll over your lower lip and onto him as Sam looks down at you with a neediness he’s only ever let you see. You move painfully slowly, lips parting enough to pull his head into your mouth, hands finding the outside of his thighs. He’s tense with anticipation, and your hands squeeze, before your throat envelopes his cock as far as you can take him.

Cheeks hollowed, you slowly retract, making him hiss as you gently graze your bottom teeth against his frenulum, before you retract completely.

“Do that again.” He breathes, knuckles pale.

“Ask nicely.” You grin, opening your mouth a little, hovering just in front of him.

“Christ.” He mutters, unable to wipe away his smile as he shakes his head, eyes closed. “Do that again, please.”

“Good boy.”

“Will you stop callin’ me th-ah-at, fuck!” He cuts himself off as you repeat the action, this time drawing a bead of salty-sweetness from him. You hum in satisfaction, feeling your own slick between your thighs as his hand instinctively grabs a hold of your hair.

As the next minute progresses, you hear Sam’s breathing gradually grow slightly more erratic, his hand unsteadily pushing your hair out of your face as the pace builds. Every now and then you flick your eyes upwards, relishing in the way he swallows in want, hips twitching occasionally as you involve your teeth- his breathy little pants make you want to keep this up forever, but you crave more.

You move particularly deep, and he bucks up; you feel him hit the back of your throat and you gag, eyes beginning to water instantly. You slide him out of your mouth as you take in air, and whilst it takes a whole lot of willpower for him not to push himself back into your throat, he instead tucks himself away and comes down to your level with an apology and a chuckle, cupping your jaw as you pull yourself together.

“Hate it when you do that.”

“It’s a good thing I did,” He breathes, “Don’t think this would’ve lasted as long as I’d want it to if you kept going.”

You laugh whilst Sam’s eyes follow the trickle of drool slowly rolling down your chin. He’s suddenly in a world of his own, barely registering what you’re saying before his tongue gathers the spit off of your skin, pushing it back into your mouth, your back hitting against the cool metal of the dryer as he kisses you; stubble grazes almost painfully against your face, but you don’t give a shit. Sam takes a rushed pause to rest his forehead against yours as he looks down at your chest; heaving, ripe for the picking.

You can only squeak as he grabs hold of you, hoisting you to your feet before propping you back up onto the top of the dryer. You almost fall back from the haste of it all, but with his hands on your lower back, you’re relatively stable again.

You groan as his hands grab your breasts, kneading them with a ferocity that sends your pulse skyrocketing. His eyes flit to yours, and he gives you an warning grin before his hands snake behind you and unhook your bra. You gasp, mildly irritated that he’d expose you so thoughtlessly whilst you’d taken every care to preserve him from any embarrassment that could occur from an innocent party-goer accidentally infiltrating the unlocked airing cupboard.

“These are magnificent.” He preens, and you roll your eyes with a scoff.

“You’re acting like you’ve never seen them before.”

“Been a while. God.”

“Did you just lick your lips? What are you, fourteen?”

“Look, doll, you know me. I’m a simple guy. I see a good pair’a tits, and I start to salivate. Now shut up.”

You huff in amused shock, but as Sam’s tongue goes for your nipple, you force yourself to swallow down a small gasp. A lick turns into a suck, which turns into a bite, and you have to cover your mouth to stop yourself from yelping out in pained pleasure as his teeth apply pressure to the sensitive spot, tugging as he looks up at you deviously. He lets go, and you let out a sharp breath, glaring at him.

“Are you trying to get us caught?” You chastise, panting a little as he pinches your neglected nipple, the roughness of his thumb and forefinger making you squeeze your thighs together in response to the action.

He gives you a toothy grin, pupils blown out; eyes darkened by impertinence as he chooses not to respond. God, he drives you mad.

As Sam takes a moment to look at you again, his smugness gives way to an unseated hunger, his lips briefly seeking yours again with a precision born of familiarity. He smooths his hands up your legs, pulling his lips away, eyes flitting between each one as he squeezes your thighs.

And all of a sudden, your heart is palpitating hard. You’re soaked- that much is certain, but you’re also slightly afraid of the concept of him stripping you completely bare without so much as a lock from keeping you from being walked in on. Perhaps you should’ve thought this through. Perhaps you shouldn’t be-

“Sam!” You whisper-yell as the ripping of fabric snatches you from your thoughts.

“I’ll buy you a new pair.” He replies, completely unbothered by your reaction, the new hole torn into your tights right between your thighs giving him an almost completely unrestricted view he’s been waiting for. “Jesus Christ. Haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re wet through.”

“I will kick you.”

“Nah, you won’t.” He shoots a complacent grin up at you, before hooking his arms around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the dryer with a quick yank that has your eyes widen momentarily.

You sigh shakily, bracing yourself on your forearms as he comes back to antagonise your chest.

Your gaze fixes on Sam, who looks up at you with a teasing smile as he pushes your thigh aside, deft tongue swirling and flicking around your nipple in a way that makes your lips part with quickened breaths; the signalling of your growing want couldn’t possibly get any clearer. The playful glint in his eyes mirrors the deriding movement of his lips, and for a moment, the laughter, music, and clinking glasses outside the intimate space you’re sharing muffles into the background.

His fingers, warm and skilful, navigate the contours of your skin through your thin tights with a gentle caress. The intention is clear—a slow, tantalising exploration that builds mutual desire with every inch of you that’s covered, and as he finally strokes a thumb over your covered core, sending a soft mewl spilling from your lips, a switch flips in his brain. Playfulness starts to deepen into a smouldering gaze, reminding you of his undeniable hunger beneath the friendship on the surface. As he pulls aside the material and starts to coat his fingers in your slick, it’s all too clear that his movements are deliberate, each touch purposeful, as if he's savouring the anticipation as much as the final destination.

He wants you. But he wants you to need him more. Sam wasn’t lying when he said you’re his ‘favourite girl’.— he adores you, and he wants to give you everything he can through his body that he can’t bring himself to give you through caged in commitment. As a result, he’s not afraid to take his time- time to pretend that this is more than the ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement you’d forged way back when. He doesn’t give anyone else this kind of time. He doesn’t want to.

You're caught between the thrill of the unexpected and the familiarity of Sam's touch. Every stroke and every red blotch left on your skin feels like a shared rebellion against the constraints of everything else life has to offer. He bites you again, and you buck your hips in response, brows furrowing as a quiet hiss pushes through your teeth. Your nails claw against the edge of the dryer, and as he effortlessly slides two fingers knuckle deep inside you, your grip falters slightly.

The hand on your waist tightens, and one of yours goes for the back of his head. You tangle your fingers into his hair, head rolling back as you try to stop yourself from moaning. He hooks his fingers, rubbing back and forth against your sweet spot in quick, repetitive motions, whilst his thumb flicks against your clit. Your breathing grows heavier, and you struggle to keep quiet as he releases your nipple from his mouth with a gentle ‘pop’.

The fire in your lower belly is burning stronger with each passing second, and you clasp your lip between your teeth as he adds a third digit— the stretch forcing a groan bubbling out of your throat as he laughs softly at the sight of you leaking onto the back of his hand. This time you’re unable to keep it down.

You’re sopping, and so damn tight at this angle— Sam feels his cock twitch with need as he feels you contract around him, the sensation of your nails scratching gently against his scalp, tugging at the roots of his hair giving him goosebumps of his own. He loves the way you sound; the wetness, your unsteady breathing, and your quiet, raspy little moans— even more so knowing that you’re trying and failing to restrain yourself.

“Ohh— shit.” you gasp as his thumb speeds up, stimulating your clit to the point where your breath gets caught in your throat. You’re not far from the edge, but he’s not ready for that yet. Neither are you.

Slowly, he pulls his fingers out of you, and you exhale, a desperate look in your eyes as the emptiness hurts.

He presses his forehead to yours, gently nudging his nose against yours in a display of affection that forces a shy smile from you. His eyes flit to your lips, and back up to your eyes, and just before you take it as a silent invitation to kiss him, his hand is brought up from between your thighs. Your cheeks heat up at the sight of his glistening fingers as he hovers them just in front of your chin.

“Open up.” He whispers, lips tugged into a cocky half-smile. You’re more than happy to oblige, and as your lips part, he slides two slick-covered fingers into your mouth, your tongue lapping up the sticky sweetness as he fixates on your mouth for a moment.

Without so much as looking back up at you, he mutters “My turn.”

As you continue to taste yourself on his skin, Sam gets to his knees, free hand holding a thigh to one side before it moves aside the soaked material of your underwear again.

“So so pretty.” He mutters, voice gruff, eyes ravenous as he takes in the sight of you; glistening, ready. All for him. All because of him. He leans in, hand keeping you exposed as he pulls his fingers from between your lips, instead choosing to keep you wide open for him. His tongue scoops you up, from the bottom of your folds up to your swollen clit, and you shudder, fingers instinctively tightening in his hair as you look down at him.

Sam goes again, this time sucking the sensitive bud in order to draw out a noise from you. You hum; high pitched and needy, leaning your coccyx against the dryer as you spread your legs open a little further.

He groans into you, fingers digging into the fullness of your thighs as his tongue moves; slow and deliberate, as if every stroke, every lick, every bite is a carefully composed note in a well-practiced symphony. The taste of you spurs him on, and through the feeling of your thighs involuntarily tightening around his head as he begins to devour you like you’re the first meal he’s eaten in days, and the slight tug you give his hair every few seconds, a blend of mischief and longing and lust takes him over.

You’re a mess, flustered, muffled moans and curses spilling into your hand, your bare chest heaving as he becomes more unrestrained; he can’t get close enough to you, his nose rubs against your clit while his tongue snakes inside you, pretty, dark eyes flicking up to see the effect that he’s having on you every so often.

You could do this all day. So could he. But you’re approaching your peak far too quickly, and whilst his tongue feels wonderful, you want more. You want him inside you when you finish— you want him to feel what he’s done to you in the most intimate way possible.

“Sam?” You rasp, tugging at his hair slightly harder. “F-fuck, Sam, s—stop.” You tug a little harder, and you whimper as you feel his breath fan over you as he reluctantly allows you to pull him away from your sensitive cunt.

He swallows, chest heaving as he takes in air. “You okay?” He asks, brows furrowed, nose, lips, and chin coated in a glistening layer of your arousal. You have to give yourself a moment to take it in. This is far from the first time you’ve seen him like this, but each time you do, you feel yourself fall in deeper. You nod, hand moving to the back of his neck, drawing him into you. Your lips press against his again, and as his tongue dives into your mouth, sharing with you the tangy sweetness he’s obsessed with, you pull his cock into his other hand. Your thumb smooths over the dribble of pre-cum that’s seeping out of him, and you pump him in your hand a few times just to feel how hard he is. He huffs out through his nose as you squeeze him gently, and as you rub him against your dripping pussy, his arms tighten around you.

You line him up, edging yourself forwards just enough for his tip to breach you, and as he swallows down a quiet moan, you peel your mouth from his and get him to look at you. “You know I love you, right?” You breathe, thumb stroking the bridge of his nose as he looks at you with parted lips.

“I know you love me.” He says, just a little louder than a whisper. He pushes into you, a cuss sighed into your neck as he tucks his head beside you. You swallow a moan as he stills, nestled into you as deep as he can, your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as he gives you a moment to adjust, and him to embrace.

You laugh, quiet and breathy into the shell of his ear. “I know you do.” You say, pressing a kiss just behind his ear as he drags himself part-way out of you. He rocks himself back into you, hips rolling gently as he begins to build a gentle rhythm. He doesn’t want to come just yet. He wants to savour this. To enjoy this perfect glimpse into the normal life he’s never wanted. He loves you. He loves you so much, but he can’t give you everything you want, so you both settle for stolen moments like these.

He quickens the pace ever so slightly, and as he continues to litter the delicate skin of your neck with deep pink nips and wet speckles your eyes close. You cradle his head in your arms as his thrusts grow a little harsher, and he hums out soft, vulnerable moans that make his closeness to his peak all the more evident.

“So good t’me.” He murmurs into your neck as he slots a hand between you, blindly searching for your clit with shaky fingers.

You cry out into his shoulder as he finds it, and you cling onto him with all of your might as he fucks you with more intensity with each passing second.

He grips onto your lower back as he continues to groan into your neck— he pulls you into him with such intensity that every small bruise developing on your chest is stimulated as your tits are crushed harshly against his t-shirt.

Sam goes deeper, sweeter, and your eyes water as he squeezes your clit almost desperately. You grunt, the coil in your abdomen tightening and tightening with each passing second, eyes squeezing shut as he gives up concentrating on your neck, collapsing into the crook of it altogether.

He breathes heavily, grunting as you bite into his shoulder to suppress a scream as you completely lose yourself. You convulse in his arms, your pussy spasming around his cock as you feel your orgasm crash over you, muffled expletives and Sam’s name spilling mindlessly from you as you feel nothing but white hot pleasure. The coil releases, and you fall limp in his grasp as you begin to milk his own orgasm out of him.

“G—God,” He groans, hand snatched from between you as he braces himself against you. He keeps moving as you feel hot ropes of cum fill you, leaning back just enough to see it dribble out of you and onto him.

He stills, foreheads touching again as you catch your breath. You feel his eyebrows scrunch and unscrunch as his breathing slowly becomes steadier, and the intensity of your respective climaxes dim into a soft afterglow.

You feel a hand stroke against your jaw, and he huffs out a laugh as you smile.

“Hi.” He whispers.

“Hey.” Your responding laugh quickly dissipates into a wince as he slides out of you.

He sniffs, with a smile to mirror your own. “Perhaps I should’ve gotten you a towel instead of that thing.” He shakes his head towards the Secret Santa gift lying abandoned on the washer behind him, and you snort.

“Hmm. I mean you could always use them as a cum rag.”

“Love it when you talk all ladylike.” He jokes. “Christmas isn’t over til New Years, the way I see it, so you’ve got plenty of time to model them for me before they’re allowed to be used for something so…menial.”

You shove him playfully, hopping off of the dryer, legs wobbling slightly as you get used to being on the ground again. He throws you your bra and sweater, which you throw on as he relocates his jacket.

You rake your fingers through your hair in hopes that it still looks relatively presentable and suitably covers your thoughtfully gifted hickey-patchwork, before you swipe up the thong and walk over to the door.

“Gonna... take a stealth walk to the bathroom.” You clear your throat, smiling as you rest a hand over the handle.

He nods in response, a half, and slightly coy smile on his lips. As you twist the handle, he gets your attention with a quick “Hey”.

You turn, raising an expectant brow. He clears his throat, nodding as if he’s reassuring himself about something.

“You… you know I love ya too, yeah?”

You smile, taking in the slight nervousness in his eyes. “I know you do. Despite these.” You swing the red monstrosity around your finger before bunching it up and shoving it into your skirt pocket. You give him an endearingly sweet wink, opening the door slowly, exposing the room to the bass boost of Nate’s festive playlist and someone’s dreadful karaoke attempt.

“See you out there?”

He chuckles as he watches you check that the coast is clear. God, he adores you.

“See you out there.”

*

I love him a normal amount.

#sam drake #uncharted #sam drake x reader #samuel drake x reader #samuel drake smut #reeEEHe

[alorlie]

SAMUEL DRAKE

— uncharted 4

#god he’s sooo #samuel drake #sam drake #sam drake gif #sam drake gifs #samuel drake gifs #uncharted 4 #uncharted #uncharted 4 gif #uncharted 4 gifs #uncharted gif #uncharted gifs #nathan drake #nathan drake gif #nathan drake gifs #nathan drake x reader #sam drake x reader #uncharted x reader #samuel drake x reader #elena fisher #uncharted a thief’s end

[gogogodzilla]

day 7, face fucking

sam drake x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, sam is mean, dirty talk, oral sex, teasing, gagging, sam calls reader princess kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

Sam drags you to the middle of nowhere. Again. As you stomp through some godforsaken rainforest in search of god knows what, you reconsider all of your life choices. The air is sticky and thick with humidity, and sweat drips from your brow.

“You know, I thought we would’ve been retired after all that Libertalia business,” you grumble, glaring at Sam’s back as he leads you. 

“We both agreed to do this job, princess,” he retorts, paying your tone no mind. 

“Well, if I would’ve known we were going to be lost in the middle of a jungle, I would’ve said no.”

Sam halts and you nearly run into his back. He turns to face you, a scowl replacing his normal laid-back demeanor. “You were the one with the map. If you were paying more attention then we wouldn’t be here right now,” he snapped, pointing a finger in your direction. 

You clench your fists at your sides and grit out, “We agreed on what path to take.”

“Well that was assuming you had a sense of direction, but I guess we’re both wrong.” 

You flush with embarrassment and anger. Sam’s jaw tightens as he runs a hand through his hair, sighing. You turn, attempting to keep your composure. The jungle is clearly getting to both of you and arguing isn’t helping your situation. 

Sam takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry, princess. That wasn’t fair.” 

You bark out a laugh, “No, but you’re right.”

He steps forward and wraps his arms around you, his strong chest presses firmly against your back. He kisses your cheek, “We’re in this together, remember?” 

You nod, leaning your head back against the crease of his shoulder. He presses featherlight kisses against your neck, always quick to apologize when he realizes he hit a nerve. 

You turn your head and close the gap between you. You can’t stay mad at him forever, especially when his apologies are so satisfying. His hands creep upward and cup your chest and you squeak against his lips. 

He grins against you before letting his hands wander, squeezing and kneading wherever he can to get those needy little noises out of you. Sam slips his tongue past your lips, groaning at the taste of you. 

You pull away, a string of saliva connecting the two of you. Sam pouts, just for a moment. You turn in his embrace so you face him and press a chaste kiss to his lips before slowly sinking to your knees. 

“I want to taste you,” you purr, almost begging, as you rub his thighs. 

He looks at you through his lashes and gives a nod. Quick and clumsy fingers reach up to undo his belt. The clinking of the metal was music to your ears. Sam’s hands clench at his sides as you slowly pull his zipper down, desperate for something to steady himself. You slide a hand up to lift up his shirt and graze your fingers over the taught skin on his abdomen. You drag your hand downward and plunge it under the waistband of his boxers. 

You wrap a hand around his aching cock, and he shudders against you. You pull him free from his jeans, and he lets out a sigh. You stroke him once and then twice, twisting your wrist with each pass over his length. 

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and Sam’s hips buck into your grip. 

You grin, “You want me to suck you off, Sammy? You want my lips around your cock?”

He hates that nickname, but your sultry words more than make up for it. “Yes, princess. Fuck, need you so bad.” 

You hum before swiping your tongue against his weeping tip. You allow your mouth to fully envelope him, swirling your tongue around the pink-hued tip. Sam groans as you take him, one hand gripping your shoulder with the other one laced through your hair. 

You rest your palms on the backs of his thighs, ushering him closer with every bob of your head. You look at him through your lashes as you hollow your cheeks around him. It’s like something snaps inside him and he’s grabbing the back of your head and fucking himself into your eager mouth. 

You gag around him and he pulls back just enough to let you catch your breath. It’s a tender act that is quickly replaced by the abrasive action of him shoving his cock down your throat once more. It brings tears to your eyes, and Sam swipes a calloused thumb across your cheek. 

He’s taking what he wants and you’re letting him. Like everything with Sam, his movements are swift and impulsive. One moment he’s squeezing your jaw to get you to open just a little wider and the next he’s raking a hand through your hair and pulling you closer. 

You can feel the drool starting to dribble down the sides of your mouth, and Sam groans at the sight of you. His thrusts are quick and he’s whining like an animal in heat. Pride swells in your chest. Only you can make him feel this good. 

Sam’s strategic, and that didn’t stop when you were fooling around. He hilts himself deeply inside you when he cums, forcing his seed down your waiting throat. He pulls back when he realizes you bit off more than you can chew and his cum is spilling down the sides of your mouth. 

You eagerly gulp down everything he gives you. You’re left panting with tear-stained cheeks and traces of Sam glistening over your mouth. He leans down and traps your lips in his. The ferocity of the kiss nearly sends you falling, but Sam’s hand stays planted on the back of your neck, keeping you in place. 

He’s never that good with words, but his actions speak volumes. This was his way of saying thank you. 

“I love you, you know that right?” he states as he pulls you to your feet. Something dances in his caramel eyes as he cups your cheek in his large hand. 

You nod, a grin dancing on your lips. You move your head to kiss the palm of his hand, “I love you, dork.”

#sam drake #uncharted #uncharted 4 #samuel drake #sam drake x reader #reader insert #no y/n #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #samuel drake x reader #sam drake smut #samuel drake smut #sam drake x reader smut #samuel drake x reader smut

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Day 13- Oral { Female Receiving }

Fandom: Uncharted 4 / Uncharted: The Lost Legacy.

Character: Samuel ‘Sam’ Drake

Warnings: Oral { receiving }, light fingering.

Digging your nails into the sheets, you did your best to bite back a moan. You can feel the man’s smirk against your inner thigh, his thumb slowly rubbing your clit.

“Come on Princess. I know you, you don’t gotta hold back. I wanna hear you scream.”

Shivering, you let your eyes glance over at the man bucking your hips against his fingers. “You’re such an ass.”

Grinning, Sam pinned you hips against the bed as he worked his fingers in your warmth. “Don’t worry darlin, I’ll make you be screamin my name soon enough.”

You want to scoff though the only thing that spills from your lips is a moan as you feel his tongue slide across your slit. Another gasp left your lips as you bucked you hips, a playful chuckle coming from Sam as he placed your legs over his shoulders.

“You know beautiful, it’s gonna be hard tearing my gaze off you when you’re lookin so good.” Grinning, Sam then gave your slit a slow lick keeping your hips firmly in place.

“Sam.” You turned your head away, your hands now digging into his shoulders.

“It’s hot, seein you like this. Moanin for me, gettin reading to come.” Sam shifted his body against the bed as he buried himself between your legs, his tongue pushing inside of you.

Your hands tangling into his hair as your back arches off the bed. “Fuck,” you moan.

You can feel Sam grin as he does it again. With his tongue inside of you, his thumb returns to your clit, making your body convulse uncontrollably. Your heart pounding in your chest as you gripped his host tightly. Your hips grinding against the movement of his tongue.

Your moans echoing through out the room, your eyes squeezed tightly shut.Your orgasm is building again, and this time you don’t say anything. Last thing you want is for him to stop. With each lick and swipe of his tongue you inch closer to the finish line. The moans and swears cannot be helped as you begged Sam for more.

Darting his tongue in and out, Sam started to suck your clit helping you reach your orgasm. As the man sucked your clit he started to work his in and out of your pussy brushing your walls and soon your were coming.

Your walls clenching around his fingers, your juices soaking the man’s face as he with drew himself away from your soaked pussy.

Running his thumb across his lips, Sam could still taste you on the tip of his tongue. Crawling on top you you, small shudder ran through your body feeling the man’s erection against your thigh.

“The nights not over yet beautiful. I’m just gettin started.”

#drabbles #drabble #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #sam drake #sam drake x reader #samuel drake #samuel drake x reader #Sam Drake x you #Samuel drake x you #uncharted #uncharted x reader #uncharted x you #uncharted the lost legacy #uncharted 4

[not-approvedtrash]

i just want to be his long-term, long distance low commitment casual girlfriend

#sam drake #uncharted #uncharted 4 #Nathan Drake #uncharted 4 x reader #sam drake x reader

[nathandrakeisabottom]

Headcannons about them with an anxious SO? Love your stuff x

Thank you, friend! Now, in full canonical honesty, I don’t believe that either Nathan or Sam would be particularly good at dealing with their deeper anxiety, let alone someone else’s, let alone someone else’s who they loved dearly and would only be afraid to make it worse (that many crumbling bridges and a guy’s gotta if consider his only superpower is the ability to destroy everything he touches) for most of their young lives. 

However, I do believe that post-UC4 (perhaps a little earlier for Nathan), and a good dose of necessary therapy (paid for in pirate coins, of course)--- they’d be more than willing to finally take on the challenge. 

For themselves, and for the person they love more than anything.

Drakes with an Anxious S/O Headcanons

Nathan:

In his younger days, the prince of the awkward smile and half-hearted clap on the back. A pulley doll whose only catchphrases were “Man, that’s hard”, “Yeah. Yeesh.”, and “Soooo, I guess this would be a bad time for a joke, huh?”. Scurries to the bathroom as soon as they’re not in tears anymore, and stays there for as long as it takes to stop hearing the residual sobs.

However, his late 30s and 40s bring him a much healthier perspective (and therapy— Jesus, finally) and being the smarty pants he is, he passes on no opportunity to put his new skills and knowledge to use.

That playfulness and desire to find the lightness in even the hardest situations never leaves him at any age, though.

A panic attack? “‘Is something… wrong with you’? You realize you’re talking to the guy who accidentally destroys ancient temples for a living, as an archaeologist? And I still consider myself a not so bad guy. So in my eyes, you’re basically a lesser known Mesopotamian god.”

Got a bad grade? “A D in Psychometrics? I don’t know, sounds like they don’t know anything about math if they’re using a letter to grade you. Maybe they should go get their teaching certificates checked. Hey, how ‘bout I just draw you a PhD myself? You know I have an eye for art.” 

Dealing with shitty parents? Landlord? Roommates? Exes who won’t leave you the fuck alone? “What? That buffoon? Guy who can’t even spell their own name right? That bastard isn’t worth a thought of a thought of a thought in your head. Pretty sure they haven’t had a thought in their own head since 1996.”

As soon as his first wide-toothed smile is won, he’s leaning into his partner with a secretive smirk: “Ya wanna get the fuck out of here?” 

Because distractions always helped him before. 

Will act especially gentlemanly, and theatrically play it up, while taking their partner for a frozen yogurt, antique shop, Target trip, public park, laser tag (yes, really) decompress. Bows when he opens the car door for them. Pays for everything. Calls them ‘your majesty’ for the entirety of the excursion.

All he wants is to get them to smile. And he’s not stopping until he sees it. 

When the night creeps in and his S/O starts to lose steam, Nathan’s own worry grows more obvious, though he tries his best to keep it to himself. 

Watches them with wide eyes. Gives them space, but still asks every few minutes if they need a cup of water. No? Tea? Arnold Palmer? Popsicle? Massage? Hot Pocket? Sexy pillow fight? However many it takes to make his partner laugh again. But he fully means every offer he gives.

Says nothing as he helps them undress and into their PJs. Touches are tender and intimate, gently rubs their shoulders and neck. Never too hard, never too direct. Plays the friendly ghost and lets their partner take the lead, but never, ever just sits around to watch.

Makes them a beverage of some sort, even if they say no. Hot lemonade with honey is his personal homecure. Says yellow is a happy color, so it must be good for you.

And right before they turn the lights out, Nate timidly offers— with a shy, trying chuckle— if they want him to read them a bedtime story. 

Somehow shocked every time they say yes. Mumbles something self-derogatory about himself (“Ya know, not the best actor, but—” “Personally I think I have the voice of a dying goose, but—”) before sitting on the nearest surface and cracking open a book.

If he’s still feeling a little awkward, will uneasily ask if they wanna hear what he’s been reading lately, and will do so if asked— but really wants to read the pirate storybooks his mother read to him and Sam when they were kids.

It always made him feel better when the world felt too big, too scary, too cruel. 

So he wants to share it with the person he loves. 

He wants to share everything with the person he loves.

And without even asking, goes to the medicine cabinet and brings them a tablet of whatever they need when the anxiety gets especially bad, and says “I know, it’s scary. But we’ve been through scary before, right?” with a kiss on the cheek as they swallow it down with a sip of lemonade.

Lingers, eyes down, and vaguely nods to nobody as he stands and walks to the door.

“Want me… uh, want me to keep reading to you?” But he offers before he can even get past the door frame. 

“Do you want me to want you to keep reading to me?” 

And the last thing he wants to see is his love, alone. The idea of them crying beneath the covers because they were too afraid to burden him with it, too afraid to be seen. Everything he felt he had to do when he was 6 and his mother “passed”, age 9, 10, 11, 12 after a black eye, the words that his brain told him wrong: spoken aloud by the playground bullies he feared he’d never be stronger than. 

But he knew they were wrong. The bullies were wrong. The ones in his brain. The ones in theirs.

“Yes.” He replies without missing a beat. 

And he makes sure to hold their hand in his free one until the second they fall asleep… and a few hours after, just to be safe.

The next morning they fucking better expect breakfast in bed— and he maybe, just maybe, might even be willing to spring for McDonald’s, if that’s what they want. As long as they promise to eat actual fruit after. And hell, maybe even a vegetable or two when he makes dinner that night. Did you know that eating right and exercise are actually primary solutions to poor mental health—? That’s what Dr. Dorian said— No, potatoes don’t count as a vegetable— no, especially not if it’s fried— NO, FRENCH FRIES DON’T COUNT, BABY—

Sam:

Sam takes a bit longer to warm up to discussing anxiety than Nathan does, mostly due to struggling so deeply with it on his own. It’s not like prisoners (or Shoreline guards) made the most comforting companions. 

The better he could keep secrets, the less he could reveal, the safer he’d be.

So it makes sense that it’s both his greatest strength and weakness when it comes to emotionally turbulent times. 

In his younger, more avoidant years, he’d be the first to leave the room, leave the building, hell, sometimes even leave the city after a particularly heavy cry or confrontation with his then-partner. Only to come back the next morning and act like nothing ever happened. 

But now, he doesn’t run. After prison, after Rafe, after Madagascar, all he wants is to be allowed to stay. To be wanted to stay by someone who loves him. 

Is happiest to just sit with you in the silence. His biggest skill is his ability to weather the storm. And whether you need to scream bloody murder, or need to sit and decompress and just fucking feel, but can’t do it alone, Sam’s there. Listening. 

Once you’re done talking, he takes one last, long drag of his cigarette, stubs it out onto the pavement, and asks simply: “So do you want solutions… or something else, sweet’art?” 

You can see in his eyes— darting less than solid, certain against your own— that he really means it, in every way that he was too afraid to when he was younger.

The wonderful and terrifying thing about having anxiety while Sam is there is that it’s a vulnerable experience for the both of you. He’s learning, discovering, trying right along with you. And he may not be able to lift you up so easily, but he’ll be able to sink into the dark places with you, and not be afraid to see what’s down there. 

And maybe seeing someone he loves so deeply, sees as so beautiful, so smart, so kind, so wonderful, so absolutely perfect to him feel the same ways he does about himself… maybe it makes him think that he’s not as terrible as his brain tells him, either. 

Helps you take action by letting himself (finally) not be the smart one: “When ya… get like this, what do you usually do first, sweet’art? Paint me a pit’chure.” Gives you complete control, and smiles softly when you wipe your tears and the logical, the archaeological mind awakens. Mimics unraveling an ancient map when you begin to explain, and you inadvertently hiccup out a laugh. 

At times, it’ll feel like he’s trying to run again, but when he stands up and walks across the room— he always returns. This time with your favorite of his jackets, the denim one that smells like him even though he just cleaned it, and drapes it protectively over your shoulders. Clasps his palm at the back of your neck and rubs out the knot he always finds there. Smiles toothy and wide when your words are broken up by sighs of relief. Only to be filled once again with silence, gazes meeting sweet and safe. 

“Remember Indonesia?” He offers with a smirk, despite your furrowed brow.

“I guess? What about—?” 

“I read the runes’ instructions and ran us in circles all around Bali, only to reread the transcript and realized I got three letters completely wrong. J—V—A. Java. It was goddamn Java the entire time.” 

“Your point being?” 

He smiles and shrugs. Trying. Maybe he’s wrong, a foreigner in some ancient, uncertain land, but he tries.

“Sometimes our brains are just wrong.” He tries for you. “That’s all.”

You sniffle, and he leans in to press a prickly kiss to your cheek. His jacket is still warm from the dryer, wafting with the residual sting of cigarette, Old Spice Captain, cheap mouthwash, even cheaper aftershave, and something else completely unnameable. 

And maybe some others would think the scent appalling, but it’s the strangeness, the specificity, and yes, the stank— everything that makes Sam him— that makes you love it. Love him. The depth. The difference. 

The pain, and what he chose to do with it. 

Another kiss, this time down your neck. This time, the sigh of relief is his own.

What he chose to change it into. 

“So… any chance sex therapy might be a thing?” He asks grinningly.

“Why don’t we find out, ‘sweet’art’?”

#uncharted #uncharted 4: a thief's end #nathan drake #sam drake #nathan drake x reader #sam drake x reader #happy christmas yall!!! #and for those are yall who struggle today. you arent alone #feel free to jump into my inbox and geek out with me #sometimes family is just someone you share blood with #and that's allowed to be it #shea out

[erismerald]

𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 (Samuel Drake x Insecure Fem! Reader) 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈

𝐀/𝐍: Hello my loves! I know I have been some time away and without any kind of inspiration, however this has been a very complicated year for me and I have not been well enough mentally to even be able to read or post anything!!! But luckily I am slowly getting better (because i´ve meet someone who´s inspire me, and tbh he is a lot like Sam) and now I feel a little more inspired and motivated to write!!! I wish you a good read and I would like to remind you that my orders will open in a few days or so feel free to send me something!!!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It's amazing how exciting and terrifying living alone can be, during a sleepless night as you think back and rethink the nights others warmed the bed of the person you loved the most, a storm of pleasure hit your door.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Insecure reader, Age gap, Semi-Nsfw (sexual tension is in the air for now eheheh) a huge load of fluff, Drunk Sam

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2,517

Lust is a pleasure bought with pains, a delight hatched with disquiet, a content passed with fear, and a sin finished with sorrow. It's not reprehensible to want something that isn't ours, to desire in the depths of our thoughts something that our heart yearns for, that our body malevolently covets, to be enveloped by the sin that torments our thoughts… during the day it's as if it's just a specter that struts around your heart, but when dusk sets in, this carnal sin dominates every sensation in your body, until the revelry of your hands sliding across your soft skin begins, caressing every centimetre of the core of your body, allowing your thoughts to imagine him in your place… in his most libinous state, such a pure sensation, you begin to imagine his body attached to yours, both in a voluptuous battle to feel more of each other, his lips brushing against your neck and his husky voice a melody to your ears, you imagine his hands pressing you against the mattress, his tongue obscenely tracing its way down between your legs… in the pitch black, you utter his name lovingly like a lover whispering the most lascivious promises, you purr his name, yet your hands caress your core, feeling the wave of pleasure run through every cell of your body… when that pleasure finally sinks in, you open your eyes and feel yourself gasping for breath, and you realise that it was nothing more than your imagination.

You get up calmly from your bed, your body still recovering from the forbidden sensation of pleasure, you see your naked figure in a small worn mirror given to you by the person who kept your mind occupied day and night, quite possibly looted during one of his countless adventures with his companion Sully, and you realise that your face is flushed, ashamed as you remember the previous events, you look away in a struggle to maintain focus, redirect your gaze back to the object and in its reflection observe your nude physique, from your perspective it was no big deal, for many years you hid yourself because you were ashamed of certain features, until you met Samuel Drake, a charming man you were fortunate enough to meet at a conference given by one of your favourite journalists, Elena Fisher. Since then, your friendship and your love for him have intensified, even though you knew that your feelings for him were completely doomed and incorrect… for various reasons: your age difference, your lack of experience in relationships, his lack of interest in you… Sometimes you let your mind wander to the immensity of the women he'd already had and that brought you a feeling of craving… jealousy, but deep down you knew that it was completely impossible for anything to happen between the two of you, he saw you as a godchild, a kid in his eyes… You shook your head in an endeavour to dispel these negative thoughts and focus on what was important at that moment: finishing your college paper, you still had a few days to hand it in but you'd rather get it done before you suffocate yourself with work.

The temperature had dropped over the last few days, you could feel it as you walked barefoot across the cold living room floor of your small flat, your gaze carefully examining the clutter, the abandoned sheets and books in battle, on the living room coffee table, on the desk, even on the kitchen table, you could tell that these last few days had been extremely busy, and a large part of you wanted to finish this work as soon as possible so that you could rest and take a few days for yourself. Contemplating the huge window in front of you, it was raining heavily and the only lights were those of the huge city on the horizon, this kind of weather had been your favourite since you were a child, you slowly made your way through the small room towards the kitchen, a coffee would be your salvation for the night, or so you thought.

The sound of lightning echoed through the sky, hours had passed since you started working, you quickly glanced at the window and the rain had become heavier and steadier, completely distracted by the storm brewing on the horizon, you were surprised by the ringing of the doorbell… you weren't expecting anyone that night… or any other night, but for a moment you felt a wave of anxiety run through your body, who could it be? You walked cautiously to the door and peered through the peephole, holding your breath as you saw who was on the other side… Sam… his wet clothes clinging to his muscular body, his hair in disarray and on closer inspection you noticed that he had a wound on one of his arms and his nose was once again broken… You quickly opened the door, his expression changing from serious to relieved within seconds of seeing you.

"S-Sam? what happened-" your question was interrupted when your bodies came together in an embrace, you could feel his breathing quicken, his body relax as it came into contact with yours, his perfume was intoxicating mixed with the blood that dripped down his arm, his face was hidden in the hollow of your neck and that activated something in your body, a strange warmth travelled through your whole being "S-Sam…?" you asked once more.

"I'm sorry for turning up unannounced, darling, but I didn't have anywhere else to go so I thought I'd pay my dear Y/N a visit." For a few seconds his raspy voice against your neck provoked another feeling, a river of pleasure emerged from between your legs, but you put that thought aside when you smelled the alcohol, he was drunk… and had most likely got into some kind of bar fight. As much as it pained you, you pulled your bodies apart and looked straight into his eyes, you had to take care of him, he needed you right now.

"Come on… Let's take care of you, big guy" he chuckled softly, and with a little effort you managed to get him to the sofa, but when you got there you unbalanced yourself on one of your books and almost fell on top of him "S-sorry, the mess is huge, I've been busy-" your eyes met and you could see amusement in the depths of his eyes, his gaze analysed you calmly from top to bottom, your heart started racing, you could feel his breath close to your lips. … but you quickly pulled away, you knew that look wasn't really directed at you, you knew that because he was drunk he could do and say things that he didn't really feel. "Whilst I get the first aid box, please Sam stay still" you stood up from your position, you heard a snort of laughter coming from him, you could feel that cunning old man smirk

"Your house… your orders love, I promise I'll be quiet" he said as you walked away towards the bathroom, picking up the small white box, you stopped in front of the mirror, you were flushed red, your breathing fast, you couldn't get out of your head the image of him lying on your sofa, his sweatshirt clinging to his body… for a man in his 40s, he's too well preserved… you got lost in your thoughts and only came back when you heard his voice pulling you back to reality "What's up Y/N?" his voice was mesmerising, once again you tried to push those thoughts out of your head, you had to focus on the task at hand.

You quickly return to the living room, Sam was sitting on the sofa going through some of your papers when you arrived. "You've been really busy, huh? Have you had any time to yourself? with so many books around I don't think so" he said as you made room to sit next to him, every touch of your skin, even covered by clothes, made your blood rush through your veins "please can you pull up your sleeve? It's funny that every time we meet I have to look after you and yes I've been busy unfortunately" you sighed opening the box and taking out some of the materials you'll need, he smiled as he took off his shirt, as you turned to him you saw his naked torso in front of you, you automatically got embarrassed and looked away, he saw you blush and smirk, he knew the effect he had on you, the air around you was hot. … you wanted to focus on the task at hand but you couldn't, the sensation of his body close to yours, the heat he emanated… it was like a drug was affecting you, but with a lot of effort you managed to finish bandaging his arm. You felt his gaze intensify on you, those earth-coloured eyes analysing every bit of your skin exposed by the pyjamas you were wearing. Sam had looked at you like that before, but on all those occasions he had been drunk, and in an attempt to divert the subject you asked him how he had got himself into that state.

"Well, I'm in town for a few days, Victor and I think this might be our next clue to an artefact we're looking for, and since I had nothing to do I went for a drink, but I think I pissed someone off by trying to flirt with the barmaid…" he said, leaning back on the sofa. Jealousy… That feeling from earlier again… Anger and insecurity ran through your head, and you weren't even listening to what he was saying anymore, it was as if your mind had focussed on that one detail, it was obtuse to think of him as a lover, let alone be jealous of something that wasn't even yours, but that feeling was consuming you and you only managed to return to reality when you felt his touch on your arm "Hey? are you listening darling?" You immediately looked at him, you could feel tears forming in your eyes and so as to avoid having to deal with questions or the feeling of pity, you got up and walked to the kitchen "I'm going to make some coffee", was the last thing you had said before leaving the room.

You shouldn't feel angry, you shouldn't even desire what isn't yours, but somehow that feeling consumed your whole being, just imagining the women who warmed his bed, the cries of pleasure that came out of their mouths, the touches, the words spoken… everything you couldn't have but wanted, everything you longed to have but once again didn't have… you let your mind wander, until you felt a gentle touch on your shoulder, you looked back and Sam's face seemed somewhat saddened to see you like that, neither of you uttered a single word, but the silence was quite comfortable, but unfortunately you couldn't hold back the tears that you had fought so hard to keep in your eyes, and finally they dripped down from your eyes, wetting your face. Sam stroked your arm first, pulling you closer to him, cutting the space between the two of you, and gently lifted your chin so that your eyes meet, wiping away the tears that were still running down your cheeks with his thumb, without cutting your gaze… inside you were nervous, sad, but the feeling of his caress made you feel at peace with yourself.

"Tell me, dear, what's wrong? You know you can trust me with everything" he whispered in your ear as he pulled you into his arms, the only thing you knew how to do was hide your face in his chest, hugging him tightly… asking the gods that this moment would last forever.

"Sam… I… I know I shouldn't, I know it's not the right thing to do, but I've had feelings for you since the day we met… every time you call me, every time we meet, I wonder when I'll be able to see you next… you've stolen my heart in a way that I can't even express myself…" You said softly, still hiding your face in his body, "I long for something that isn't mine, and I get jealous every time I know that someone else is taking the place that could be mine in your bed… next to you." Saying this out loud was a really difficult task, you didn't want to give in to temptation, but you couldn't bear to let yourself feel this anguish any longer, no matter how much you'd be rejected, you'd rather tell him than hide it. Sam once again grabbed your chin and forced you to look up. The light around you was tenuous, and you could hardly see what was around you, but for mere moments it was just the two of you in that kind of darkness. You felt Sam slowly approaching you, his lips brushed your neck "Do you want me?" he said as he gently kissed your exposed neck "Sam…" you felt his tongue drawing little 's' on your skin "Answer me darling, do you want me?" his lips moved up to your lobe, nibbling, letting out a slight moan, "Y-Yes… " you answered breathlessly, he pulled away, leaving you in the interlude of a forbidden pleasure, your eyes locked once more, one of his hands rested on the side of your face, forcing your lips to be mere millimetres apart, the other slid down your body until it reached your waist, pulling you towards him, claiming you as his.

"My dear Y/N, ever since I laid eyes on you I knew I wanted you… no other woman can fulfil the desire I feel for you… i thought you'd reject me so i didn't go through with it, but god damned, each night i wished it was you whispering my name, that it was you moaning with each thrust, that it was your heart that beat close to mine after we fell on the mattress tired and sweaty from the carnal battle that neither of us had won" and with that he sealed your lips, you felt his tongue asking permission to enter and you gave in, you were both gasping, but the fight didn't stop there. With a simple gesture, the hand that was holding your waist lifted you up onto the stall, forcing both your legs open, where he positioned himself in the middle, his kisses went down to your neck once more and all you could do was moan his name.

"Tell me you want me, darling, beg for me, let me be a priest who worships you, let me make you mine, and only mine…" he said between kisses and caresses, your head was light, the only thing you could hear was the sound of your heart and the pounding rain, but with effort you answered

"Yes… please."

𝐓𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝…

#uncharted #uncharted 4 #uncharted 2 #uncharted 3 #sam drake #sam drake x reader #sam drake headcanon #sam drake x plus size reader #nathan drake x reader #nathan x elena #dbh connor x reader #astarion x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #naughty dog #assassin's creed revelation #baldur's gate 3 #detroit connor #detroit become human #marc spector x reader #loki x reader

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Hot Summer Night - Sam Drake X GN Reader

Title: Hot Summer Night

Sam Drake X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Nathan (Mentioned), Elena (Mentioned), The roommates; Rick and Brendan

Requested by @bluewingedangel!

WC: 4,967

Warnings: Tension, sweat mentioned cause it's hot out, pinning, Uncharted canon violence mentioned, cursing, reality tv mentioned, video games mentioned, Sam being a cute gentleman cause he's in love, teasing, slight suggestiveness, taunting, the roommates have a sneaky suspicion, awkwardness, anxiety, fear of rejection, smoking mentioned, flirting, Rick is a danger to electronics, dare kiss, awkward confession, alcohol, Reader and Sam are drunk, #concent, hangover mentioned, slight angst, and fluff

It was hot. Too hot. One of your roommates accidentally broke the AC, and in a matter of half an hour, the entire apartment was hot. Sweltering... Yeah, that's a better word for it. You were sweating buckets, and it didn’t help that it was already a very hot day in the middle of the summer. You slouched on the couch, eyes half-lidded as you fanned yourself with a Dollar Store fan; Your shirt and shorts sticking uncomfortably to your skin. As you do this, the fan above you begins to make some strange noises. It was making a sort of buzzing sound. You furrowed your brows at the noise. The fan was old, it made noises all the time, and it didn't help that the apartment was old too.

You ignored the soft footsteps that wandered out from the hall, your brain half-processing the sound of one of your roommates, Brendan, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge.

"God," He whined, "Why is it so hot in here?"

"Brendan, you know Rick broke the thermostat. You're not gonna get much more AC in here than what you can get outside." You said in a monotone voice, staring at the tv as Tom And Jerry played.

Brendan sighed, shutting the fridge, "Where is Rick?" He asked, wandering around to the couch, fanning himself with his hand as he watched the tv.

"I don't know..." You turned up the sound on the tv, "And I don't care." You leaned back against the slightly wet cushion, "Besides, he's committed treason, breaking our AC." You muttered, and Brendan pursed his lips.

"Alright… Where's Sam?" He then asked, and you rolled your eyes, glancing from the tv to the floor.

"He's at the corner store, getting ice cream." You continued to mutter, biting your lip.

Brendan let out a laugh, crossing his arms, "Well, he better hurry up, or that ice cream will be liquid once he gets back." He spoke, before heading back to his room. 

You let out a breath, shifting slightly in your seat. At the mention of Sam, you felt a familiar heat creep into your cheeks and ears. Sam was... Perfect. In every possible way. Even if sometimes he could be a little... Well, abrasive about certain things. He was still sweet, caring, and funny... You loved his brown hair and his brown eyes, you loved the small dimples that would appear when he smiled and the way his lips curled upward whenever he saw you. You loved him in all ways imaginable, but you were scared. Scared to admit your feelings for him, scared that you would ruin everything between the two of you. That was just a fear you couldn't shake off, no matter how hard you tried.

Sam was your best friend and had been for years after he got out of prison. You met him after his adventure to find the Tusk of Ganesh, ultimately accidentally joining him in another adventure to find the Goblet of Judgment in Madagascar. You remembered it as if it happened yesterday. One minute you were just minding your own business, and the next you were in the back of a Jeep, ducking from bullets. Once safe, you finally met Sam, who was driving the Jeep. Your first impression of Sam was that he was pretty charming, yet cocky, and you both hit it off, funnily enough. After that, you two became inseparable. You'd sometimes join him on treasure hunts, he'd take you out to dinner after most of them, and at some point, the two of you even got an apartment together; where you met your two other roommates, Brendan and Rick.

Hearing the door open, you glanced over to see Sam enter the apartment with two grocery bags in his hands. He kicked the door closed, placing the bags on the ground as he took off his shoes. Grabbing the bags, he glanced over to you, his eyebrows furrowing at how loud you had the tv. "You know, you'll go deaf if you keep that thing going," He said as he passed you to get to the kitchen, and you shrugged.

"So what?" You said, continuing to fan yourself. "The volume is good, I'm comfortable."

Sam chuckled slightly, knowing it was too hot for anyone to be comfortable, shaking his head and beginning to unpack. You heard him set his bags down on the table, before opening the fridge and putting the food away. He then walked over, looking at you, to the tv, and back to you; with a smile on his face. 

"How have you been since I left?" Sam asked, and you sighed dramatically.

"How do you think I've been?" You asked, too tired to even roll your eyes, "It's too hot."

"I know," Sam replied, sitting down next to you, his arm resting on the back of the couch behind your head, "Have you tried fixing the AC?" He asked and you let out a huff.

"You think I can fix that damn thing? No. We're doomed to forever swelt until we melt." You replied, letting your head fall back onto the couch.

Sam hummed, admiring you before speaking, "Want ice cream?" He suggested, rubbing your shoulder gently, even his touch warmed you, but you had no heart to push him away; no matter how hot it was, "Maybe that'll cool you down." You groaned again.

"Not cool enough." You mumbled, and you heard Sam chuckle.

"Man, you're so hot when you're hot." He teased, making you cross your arms, hoping he didn't notice how much his words and touch got to you. "Well then," He reached forward, brushing your sticky hair out of your face, "I'm going to get you a cold rag and us two some ice cream." As he got up and left for the kitchen again, you let out a silent sigh. This man was going to be the death of you.

~~~

It was half past nine, the moon was high in the sky and the air was still thick with humidity. All four of you were sprawled out on various pieces of furniture throughout the living room. You and Sam were slouched on the couch while Rick lay stretched across the recliner. Brendan sat crisscrossed, on the beanbag.

"How are you not dying?" You asked Sam, eyes raking over his attire; a plain t-shirt and gray sweats, and only a light layer of sweat on his brow.

"Yeah, man," Rick spoke, holding a cool can of soda on his forehead. "How are you not dying?"

Sam shrugged, his arms crossed behind his head, "I've traveled the world in the hot sun for years, I guess my body's just used to it." 

You pouted, glaring at the ground as you mimicked him in a low voice, “I guess my body's just used to it. I hate you.” You said half-heartedly, as Sam just smirked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh, you love me.” He teased you, as you let out a dramatic sigh, as he continued to speak, “It’s true though, after a while your body just gets used to the heat to a degree.” At the word, 'body' you couldn't help but glance over at Sam, biting your lip as your eyes roamed over his muscular frame. Sam caught you staring and gave you a grin. "What're you looking at?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow. You blushed, turning your head away quickly and clearing your throat.

"Nothing." You replied, and Sam snorted. "Just that I can't believe you're not dying. No matter how much you galavant in hot forests for treasure, you can't not be dying."

Sam didn't reply, only smirking as he gazed at you for a moment longer before looking at the tv. Sam had to look away before he got caught staring at you, though, because there was no telling if Rick or Brendan noticed. Brendan did seem to notice something though, as he looked toward Sam and raised an eyebrow. But Sam ignored him, his mind drifting back to you. 

Sam loved you, and there wasn't any doubt in his mind that he did. He had come to terms with the realization a long time ago, almost four years, and there was this constant craving to hold you close and whisper sweet nothings into your ear. But he wanted to do this right, and take his time. You weren’t like the other relationships he has had in the past. You were one of a kind. But he had a lingering fear, he was scared that if he did tell you that he loved you, he would lose you forever. And he knew if that happened, nothing would be what it used to be. The both of you would be awkward and uncomfortable around each other, and you probably wouldn't talk to him ever again. 

Sam tried to ignore his fears, knowing that he was probably overreacting, so he just sat back, thinking about when he first met you. Remembering how your hair moved in the wind as you dramatically waved your hands in the air as you spoke, demanding he’d tell you why those men were shooting at him. Sam knew you would become a huge part of his life, even though he had met you minutes before, after he had saved you from crossfire; you being a victim of 'wrong place, wrong time'. He knew. And Sam was right. In the end, you joined Sam on his treasure-hunting adventure, and during that adventure, Sam had grown closer to you, and vice versa. 

On the adventure, you both got to know each other. You find out he had a younger brother, Nathan. Even though the adventure for the treasure only lasted another couple days, in the end, both you and Sam felt as if you had known each other your entire lives; a friendship quickly bloomed. During the trip, you find out just how charming Sam really was, his constant flirting and sense of humor sent butterflies erupting in your stomach and you couldn’t hide the smile that would end up on your face. Sam felt as if he finally found someone who understood him, besides his brother. Someone who didn’t judge him or make him feel bad about his past; someone who he felt that he could trust wholeheartedly. 

You spent nights in crappy motels, Sam retelling stores from his past adventures and all the artifacts he found or tried to find. He even told you about Captain Avrey, and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride and warmth when he looked over at you, seeing how enraptured you were by the story; he had your full attention, even more so when he showed you the coin. Sam never stopped impressing you, he was incredibly smart, knowing more languages than you did, and he had such a heart of gold. You were so captivated by the man before you as he retold his adventures or the meaning behind that bird tattoo. You thought he was incredible, and you were lucky enough to call him a friend.

And a great, amazing friend he was. You’d do everything together, as said before. You’d sometimes go out to eat together, or go to clubs or bars for a drink. On slow, calm weekends, you would both go on walks around the nearby parks, feeding ducks when you could. As the seasons of Spring and Summer came and left, and Autumn made the leaves fall, you would both make pumpkin pie or play Crash Bandicoot. And when Winter finally came, you’d go out in the snow, Sam reluctantly building a snowman with you; but secretly he loved making you happy.

No matter where, you went everywhere, and did everything together. (You even tried ice skating together, and watched in awe and envy as Sam glided gracefully on the ice while you waddled like Bambi).

And at his brother and sister-in-law’s party, Sam knew that he was in love with you. He watched as you spoke with his brother, getting along great with him, it was all he ever wanted; his best friend getting along with his brother. And that made Sam fall harder than he already had. It was like he was in slow-motion, tunnel-vision, as you wandered around the party. He was lost in thought, watching as you held a glass of champagne, taking sips as you talked with someone Sam didn't quite catch. He was pulled from his thoughts as you turned towards him, giving him a small breathtaking smile from across the room before returning to the conversation. Sam felt his heart skip a beat and his breath hitch; he didn't realize how deeply in love he really was with you until that night. 

~~~

Rick pushed down the recliner, sitting up with a sigh, "We should do something." He spoke up, glancing between his two friends before settling his gaze on you, "Something besides sitting here and watching bad reality TV."

"Hey," You protested, glaring over at your friend, "Bad reality television is not bad reality television. It's a classic! Plus, it's better than whatever crap comes on Netflix these days."

“Except Wednesday.” Brendan commented, and you smiled giving him a high five in agreement. "And, Rick," Brendan continued, "I like Sister Wives." He jutted out his bottom lip.

Rick rolled his eyes, shrugging his shoulders in response to Brendan's statement, and you shook your head. "Whatever. What do you suggest we do then?" Rick asked.

Brendan paused for a moment, "Well, maybe we could all grab a bite at Mcdonalds'?" He suggested, and Sam sputtered a laugh.

"Yeah, no, I don't think so. I didn't spend an hour in that damn heat grabbing groceries just to go out again and get hot food." Sam spoke and you glanced at him, raising an eyebrow.

"I thought the heat didn't bother you anyway?" You asked and Sam nudged your arm.

"You know what I mean." He spoke, looking over at Rick and Brendan, "Besides, I bought enough food for salad."

"Well, I am not hungry." You spoke up, moving the slightly warm wet rag on your neck, "I'm too hot to eat." Sam nudged you again, gaining your attention to wiggle his eyebrows, making you huff and nudge him in the arm back. 

"We should play a game," Rick spoke, and you grabbed the remote, pausing the show.

"What do you suggest then, Ricky?" You asked, "And it better be a good suggestion. I am this close to jumping into a cold shower." You spoke, pinching your pointer finger and thumb together. 

"I'd love to join you." Sam teased, making you give him another hard swat on the arm, which made him cackle.

"Shut up." You said, throwing the damp cloth at him, and you saw him dodge it easily; the rag landing on the floor.

"Anyways, we could play Mario Kart," Brendan spoke up, leaning forward.

"Nah, we can't, remember? Rick broke the XBox." You spoke, "Because Rick hates us and loves breaking things."

Sam nodded, agreeing, "Just to spite us." He tutted. 

Rick placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense, "Excuse me, I have a heart, you know! It was an accident."

"Fine, what about truth or dare?" Brendan suggested, and Sam rolled his eyes.

"What are you? Five?" Sam asked and Brendan groaned, shaking his head.

"Yeah, we playing or what?" Rick asked, only for no one to respond. 

After a few beats of silence, you stood. "I'll get the drinks."

"I'll make the salad," Sam spoke, following you to the kitchen.

"And I'll turn on some music," Rick spoke, grabbing his phone, and Bluetooth it to the speaker.

"No musicals, Rick!" Sam called out from the kitchen, and you chuckled.

Rick scoffed, "That's not fair."

~~~

An hour into the game, you, Sam, and Rick were as drunk as skunks. From the game so far, Sam was dared to chug the rest of one of his beers in less than three seconds, Rick confessed that he really liked The Powerpuff Girls, Brendan confessed that he really wants to start a family someday, and you were dared to eat a giant spoonful of ice cream until you got a brain freeze. Your cheeks were flushed, and your eyes were closed, you could feel yourself slowly slipping away, hearing the sound of Brendan and Sam laughing after Rick dared him to lick the bottom of his shoe. Rick didn't do it, but he was pretty close to it.

"Wakey wakey, sleeping beauty." Sam teased, poking your cheek gently, and you shot upright.

"Huh? What? Where are we?" You mumbled, sitting up on the couch, as Sam took another sip of his third or fourth beer.

"Still at home, sweetheart. Playing this god-awful game."

Rick let out a laugh, twirling the empty beer bottle on the ground, watching it spin as it slowly landed on Brendan. Rick turned to Brendan, giving him a tipsy smile, "Truth or dare, Bren?"

"Truth." Brendan responded, glancing over at Rick, who began fiddling with his shirt buttons, feeling hotter and hotter. 

"Who do you like best in this room?" Rick asked as Brendan furrowed his eyebrows.

"Um, what? Who do I like best?" Brendan asked and Rick nodded. "Well, I guess I like Y/N best." He spoke, making Sam and Rick frown as you fist-bumped the air. "What?" Brendan raised an eyebrow, "Y/N didn't break the AC, and Y/N didn't forget to start the washer." He spoke, glancing at Sam who took his turn to foreign offense. 

"That was one time!"

"Alright, alright, Brendan, spin." You waved a hand towards the bottle, as Brendan reached out to spin it. Watching the bottle spin around, your eyes widened as you realized where the spinning was going. As soon as the bottle stopped spinning, it landed on you, pointing to you. Your jaw dropped open as you looked down at the bottle. You turned your head towards the boys, seeing their smirking faces, and laughed. "Okay, okay, please, go easy on me?" You pleaded and Brendan smiled and shook his head, laughing at your reaction.

"So, truth or dare, (Y/N)?" He asked, turning his body towards yours.

"Dare." You answered, placing your hand on your forehead, pretending you were about to faint.

"You say go easy, eh? I dare you..." He trailed off, staring at you for a second as he pretended to think. You waited patiently, waiting for him to come up with something, "To kiss someone."

Your eyes widened, and you stared at him for a moment. "What?" Your heart stopped. Was this really happening? Had you heard him right?

"Kiss someone." He repeated, grinning widely as he leaned closer, resting his elbows against his knees. You blinked once. Twice. Three times. 

You bit your lip, side-glancing towards Sam briefly before surging forward to press a blink-and-you'll-miss-it kiss to Sam's cheek. Sitting back in your seat, you tried to ignore the 'oohs' as Rick spoke.

"Why didn't you kiss me?" He asked and you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the feeling of Sam's eyes on you.

"Sam didn't break the AC." Your answer only made Brendan point at himself.

"What about me?" He asked and you huffed. 

"Sam didn't dare me to kiss someone." Your reply was short and simple, making the two boys frown. 

Rick glanced over at Brendan briefly, raising an eyebrow before he over-dramatically yawned, stretching his arms high in the air. "Well, I am pooped, so I'm gonna hit the hay." He said, standing up.

"Me too," Brendan said, standing up as well and heading for his room, "See you guys in the morning." He gave you a small wave and disappeared down the hall.

Sam stayed seated on the couch, his eyes still trained on you as you shifted uncomfortably under the weight of his stare. You cleared your throat, trying to make eye contact. "I... Uh, I'm sorry about that. I should've asked you first before just- ah- doing that." You muttered, averting your gaze from Sam and towards the floor, your hands in your lap nervously. 

Sam snapped out of his daze, clearing his throat, "No, uh, it- it's fine. Just a game." He spoke and you nodded, letting out a sigh of relief.

"Just a game." You mimicked, agreeing. 

It was quiet for a bit, just the two of you listening to the music playing through the speakers as you both drank. Slowly the awkwardness sizzled away, and you and Sam began to talk again, just about everything and anything. You giggled, placing a hand over your mouth after Sam told you a funny story about Nathan. The liquid courage was flowing through your veins, helping you forget how nervous you were, allowing you to gain the courage to sit basically hip to hip with Sam on the Old Navy couch. Sam's arm was wrapped across the back of the couch like earlier, his fingers brushing through strands of your hair playfully as he drank his beer in his other hand. His own cheeks were flushed, a grin on his face as he gazed down at you. You returned his smile, resting your head against his shoulder, causing him to shiver slightly even though it was still ungodly hot.

"Truth or dare?" Sam then suddenly asked, making you smile slightly.

You let out a small laugh, "Truth or- Sam, the game's over." You slightly slurred your words. "Besides, it's my turn."

Sam licked his lips slowly, thinking hard before he just shifted in his seat, facing you with a determined expression, "Fine," His voice was soft, "Truth." He answered, making you laugh as you shook your head,

"Sammy, I didn't even ask you." You laughed out, nudging him teasingly.

Sam shrugged, smirking down at you, "Too late. Truth."

You sighed with a grin, "Fine, are you gonna stop smoking?"

He nodded, looking away, "Uh... No?" You frowned slightly,

"Sam." You said quietly, glancing over at him with pleading eyes. "It's bad for you. You gotta stop."

"Don't tell me what to do, sweetheart." Sam retorted teasingly, trying to laugh off his sudden nerves. 

"Sam." You warned him.

"Come on, it's hard." He argued.

"Oh, I know, Sammy." You pouted. "But you have to quit, Sam. It will kill you." You stated simply.

Sam pursed his lips as he stared at you, grabbing his beer, he spoke before taking another sip, "I'll think about it... Only for you." And just like that, you were in a fit of giggles. "Okay, okay," Sam chuckled at your state, his own mind rather dazed and fuzzy as he reached over to pull you closer to him, making you groan and push at his side slightly.

"Ew, sweaty man, gross." You complained with a giggle. "And gross, I can't breathe with you pressed all over me like this."

Sam just laughed as he continued holding you close to him, nuzzling the top of your head lovingly. "We're already sweaty, babe, why not be sweaty together?" 

You smiled up at him, booping his nose as you spoke, "You're gross but it's your turn." You tried to reach for another beer but couldn't reach, opting to just give up with an annoyed huff. 

Sam chugged the rest of his beer, his head feeling light, as he let out a small laugh, "Truth or dare?"

You giggled, rolling your eyes, "Truth?" You guessed.

"If I kissed you right now… Would you kiss me back?" Sam suddenly asked, his deep voice rumbling through his chest. You blinked, once... Twice, until you tilt your head towards Sam, confused. Either you were so drunk your mind was playing tricks, or Sam really did ask that.

"What?" You asked, feeling yourself slightly sober up, as your mind raced and your heart started beating faster than a hummingbird.

"Would you kiss me back?" Sam repeated softly, almost shyly as his brown eyes met yours. You felt your cheeks heat up as you swallowed thickly, licking your dry lips.

"Yeah..." You breathed and you could see Sam's breath hitch at your response. "But you're drunk Sammy. Hell, I'm drunk."  You added with a chuckle, trying to ease your pounding heart.

Sam leaned in closer to you, making you close your eyes as his lips gently brushed against your own. "Y/N." He whispered, almost pleading.

You let out a shaky sigh, your nose brushing against his again as you reached up to place your hands on his stubbly cheeks. "I would love to kiss you, Sam." You spoke as you felt him grin, "But, I'm scared." You whispered, your eyes memorizing every line and freckle on his face.

He pulled back slightly, opening his eyes, "Of what?" He asked, his warm breath hitting your cheek and you smiled at his closeness.

"That if I kiss you, it would end up being a one-time thing." You explained, looking into his chocolatey brown eyes. "I know that you have had many... Relationships... And I know we have been friends for years... I don't want to mess this up..." You let out another shaky breath, "I don't want my heart to break." You admitted.

Sam closed his eyes, nodding slightly as he took a few seconds to think about it. "Well," He licked his lips, looking at you. "I promise I won't break your heart, Y/N," Sam assured you and you looked up at him, biting your bottom lip as you studied the way his eyes seemed to sparkle. Your thumbs traced the lines of his jaw, watching as his Adam's apple bobbed along with his swallow. You watched his lips part and his teeth gnaw on them before he spoke. "I- I love you, sweetheart." He confessed, making you gasp softly, your eyes wide open as you processed his words. Sam noticed your reaction and instantly regretted saying it, "Damn it, I shouldn't-" Before he could finish his sentence, you moved your hands to grab his brown t-shirt, leaning in and pressing another kiss to his cheek, his eyes fluttering shut when you broke apart.

You kept your forehead against Sam's, closing your eyes as you let out a sigh of relief, "I love you too, Sammy. So much." You murmured softly. Sam opened his eyes and grinned. "But we're really drunk. So, how about in the morning we talk about this further?" You asked, a playful grin on your face.

Sam chuckled softly, shaking his head, "Sounds good to me." He spoke, his big hands covering yours.

~~~

The next morning, you immediately cringed, the sun shining through your windows as you stretched your limbs out on the bed. Your mind was thumping painfully, the hangover making itself known. After drinking the whole night and staying up talking with Sam, you eventually fell asleep, your head resting comfortably against Sam's chest. All you could remember was the truth or dare game and Sam's confession. You didn't remember walking to your room, so you guessed Sam had brought you to bed, which made you smile. 

Trying to ignore your headache, you let out a dreamy sigh. Your entire being felt giddy as you played over the hazy confession of Sam's. He loves you... Sam loves you! This was a huge weight off your shoulders, and you couldn't help but feel so happy at your realization. Getting up, you walked out of your room, sighing in relief as the AC kicked on. Sliding into the kitchen, you found Sam cooking at the stove, making a late breakfast. You leaned against the doorway, letting your eyes rake over him, feeling your heart skip a beat at the sight. God, he was so beautiful, you thought with a blush. You watched him cook for a moment longer before you cleared your throat, startling him slightly as he turned around and gave you a gentle smile.

"Morning, gorgeous." He greeted you softly, sliding water and ibuprofen over to you.

You smiled in thanks, swallowing the pills and drinking the water. "Morning, Sammy." You replied.

Sam gave you a soft smile, leaning back against the counter as he looked down at you, "So... Last night?" He queried with raised eyebrows.

You bit your lip nervously, "Yeah?"

"Well, you sleep alright?" He asked, trying to calm his racing heart as you nodded with a small shy smile.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. Slept well." You chuckled softly, and Sam nodded.

"Well, good, good. Uh, yeah... That's good." He stumbled slightly over his words. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, giving you a nervous smile. 

You walked over, standing before him with a smile, "Sam, you're staring."

"Can you blame me?" He mumbled, chuckling slightly. You grinned mischievously, as Sam reached up and cupped your cheeks, pulling himself down so he was at eye level with you. 

"No." You whispered as he leaned forward, capturing your lips in his. You eagerly reciprocated and kissed back, deepening it as you wrapped your arms around his waist. One of his hands reached out and ran through your hair, tugging at a strand as you moaned into his mouth, your body leaning against his as you kissed. Eventually, you pulled away for air, panting heavily and grinning happily as you looked up into Sam's dark eyes. "You stink." You chuckled, laughing at how he pouted at your comment.

"I love you too." He teased, kissing your forehead gently.

You rolled your eyes playfully, leaning your head into his shoulder, and wrapping your arms around his neck. "I know." You said with a smug look. You shut your eyes, snuggling your chest into his chest, becoming engulfed in his smoke and sweat scent. It was nice... Comfortable. It was so Sam. The smell comforted you. "I love you too."

#uncharted #uncharted 4 #sam drake x reader #sam drake #samuel drake #sam drake x gn reader #sam drake x you #sam drake x y/n #x reader #x gn reader #x you #x y/n #requests open #requested #requests #request #fanfics #fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #cute #fluff #slight angst

[drabblesandimagines]

2023 Fic Recs

I've seen a couple of posts where people are sharing some of their favourite Tumblr fics of the year, so here's mine. I must stress I have too many to list, but here's four that I've re-read multiple times this year cos I adored them. Whilst I'm primarily a fluff blog, I do interact with spicier content so bear that in mind before you click!

1. I Am Afraid Not Of Leaving But Being Forgotten by @pinkkittysaw (18+ blog - SFW but please respect pinkkittysaw boundaries of not having minors interact with their work) Oh, Clive Rosfield, I love you so. All of pinkkittysaw's work is wonderful, but I have such a soft spot for a soft, caring Clive and as someone who has low self-esteem (working on it, my friends!) this just speaks to my soul.

2. Ask Request by @neondogs (18+ blog, SFW piece) I haven't played a single game that contains Chris Redfield and only seen parts of Vendetta, but Aspen's Chris Redfield x reader fics have made me fall in love. I'm all about the comfort and Chris comforting reader after a nightmare, respecting boundaries, cuddling them close... Oh, it's wonderful!

3. Beyond Our Vessels by @cryptictongues (18+ blog, NSFW piece) Barnabas x Sleipnir x reader threesome. I will forever say there is not enough Barnabas Tharmr x reader content out there, and this is pure indulgent porn without plot with the added bonus of beautiful, loyal Sleipnir and ooft. OOFT.

4. Drakes with an Anxious S/O Headcanons by @nathandrakeisabottom (SFW piece, blog has 18+ content) I threw myself into their ask box with an anonymous ask about how the Drake Brothers would be with an anxious significant other after my anxiety was really rearing its head in December and I'd played all of the Uncharted games in 2023. I absolutely adore this - I've re-read it so many times already and it always puts a smile on my face!

Wishing you all a wonderful 2024 x

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

#ghostdogwrites #ghostdogrecs #fic recs #clive rosfield x reader #barnabas tharmr x reader #nathan drake x reader #sam drake x reader #chris redfield x reader

[xxxsaturnxx]

Morning

☆.｡.:*

Pairing: Sam Drake x F!Reader

Summary: You wake up next to sam drake, your longtime boyfriend who just proposed to you the night before

Warning: 18+/suggestive content, language,

A/N: I dont really write but… Ta da????? I also posted this on ao3 if you’d like to check that out

☆.｡.:*

You stir awake to the feeling of Sam lightly kissing your neck and you snake a hand up his neck and to his jawline.

“Mmm, good morning to you too,” you groggily whisper to him as you tried to push yourself further into him and feel the warmth he was producing. “So, thoughts on last night?” looking up from your neck, he raised an eyebrow at you.

You put a finger on your chin as if you were in deep thought “Hmmm, last night, ya know, I don’t think I remember much of anything happening last night. Would you care to remind me of last nights events, Mr. Drake?”

He chuckles as he slowly crawls up your body so you were then eye to eye. “Well Ms. ‘soon to be Mrs. Drake,’ I’ll try my best,” He grins as he pulls you into a loving kiss.

His hands caressing your naked body leaving no inch of skin untouched. Your hands tangled in his hair while you wrapped your legs around his waist. He breaks the kiss as your need for air grew unbearable.

“Mmmh sweetheart the things you do to me,” He groaned breathlessly against your lips. Sam gave you one final peck on the lips as he trailed down your body mumbling sweet nothings till he reached your thighs.

He glances up at you through his eyelashes while nibbling the inside of your thighs. Sam held eye contact for just a second before he delved into your folds, the bridge of his nose rubbing against your clit.

You gasp his name and grab the back of his head pushing him deeper into you. Your head sinking deeper into the pillow as you let a few whimpers out. The room filled with your moans and the squelching sounds Sam was pulling from you.

The combined sensations of Sam’s muffled groans and the addition of two fingers brought you closer to the edge. Your thighs trembling and your moans growing louder signaling Sam how close you are.

“F-fuck Sam… Baby please,” you begged, pawing at his scalp.

“Hush, darling, I know,” He mumbled against your skin, his free hand soothing over your shaking legs. Your climax hit you fast and hard and left you seeing stars. Your thighs clamping down on Sam’s head holding him there while you rode out your orgasm.

“Fuck, Sam! Please, please, please!” You screamed breathlessly as you went limp.

“Oh, is that your way of asking for a second round?”

“Oh God, please, no, not yet!” you pleaded as Sam crawled back up cradling you in his arms. You breathed in his scent and kissed his chest and neck following the path of his tattoos.

His hand rubbing up and down your back went still as you looked up at him. “What there something on my face?” He chuckled.

“Well yeah but that’s not what I’m looking at,” you laughed. Then pulled him down for another heated kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips as Sam changes positions. So he’s back between your legs, you can feel his hard cock on your thigh.

Sam starts to grinding his cock back and forth between your folds. Smearing your slick on his cock. He reaches in between the two of you and positions himself in front of your entrance. You both groan as he enters you, Sam sliding all the way until your hips meet.

“Shit darling… how are you still so damn tight.” Sam gaped while grabbing your hips. He set an almost animalistic pace, every now and then leaning down to kiss you.

You hands started to wander from your sides as you became more and more desperate for release. Whimpers and his name were the only things coming out of your mouth, your mind too clouded to even think of other things to say.

Sam’s hips soon losing rhythm, signaling that he too was close to his climax. Sam leaned down to your neck he bites down slightly groaning into your skin as he rides through his orgasm.

“Fuck baby… God i love you.” Sam muttered against your skin, your bodies still tangled you move your hand to pet his hair. Sam lightly kissed your sore skin slowly getting off and out of you.

When he pulled out you both groaned at how sensitive you both are. your breathing was almost completely calmed while Sam’s was only now starting to calm down. He got up from the bed and walked to the bathroom.

Naturally you stare when from the ceiling to his ass as he left. When Sam returned he had put on boxers and had a damp wash cloth in his hand. You hummed when Sam kissed your forehead before he cleaned you up.

Sam returned the wash cloth to the bathroom before he went right back into bed with you. “We should really shower, huh?” You whispered as you laid your head on his chest.

“Later sweetheart just let me enjoy some time with my beautiful new fiancé.” He whispered back as he rubbed your arm slightly closing his eyes.

You gazed up at him ready to spend the rest of your life married to Samuel Drake.

#sam drake #samuel drake #sam morgan #uncharted #nate drake #nathan young #sam drake smut #established relationship #uncharted series #uncharted 4 #sam drake x reader #uncharted fanfiction #f!reader #nathan drake #nathan morgan

[durrtydawg]

Fructose (Sam Drake x F!Reader)🍓

Summary: A 'normal' life isn't all bad. Especially when it involves a picnic in a secluded part of a nature reserve, gorgeous natural lighting, and plenty of strawberries- they're an aphrodisiac, apparently.

Just a short, sweet (pun unintended), smutty one-shot that I wrote in two hours to procrastinate from anything and everything else I should be doing.

No, I haven't proof-read. Yes, I know you can tell.

Warnings: smut (albeit nothing crazy), 18+ please x

“Where is everyone? All the horrible... screaming kids and their long-suffering parents?”

“C’mon, you know I’m good at weaselling out private spots. You really think I’d put you through that? Or myself, for that matter?”

“Fair.”

“God, I love this weather.” You sigh whimsically, hopping out of the car, closing the door behind you as you bask in the warmth of the late-afternoon. Sam nods, pushing his sunglasses from his forehead down to his eyes. “Sunny, but not too hot. Light breeze-”

“Southwesterly winds, ten miles per hour— you know, I was unaware I was dating a weather girl.”

You raise your brows at his know-it-all grin. “Oh? You’ll also be dating a pro-boxer soon if you’re not careful.” With a smug smile, you make your way to the back of the car, holding the keys between your teeth, opening the trunk as Sam holds up his hands in defence with mouth curled into an amused grin.

“Think fast.” You catch his attention, talking through your teeth as you toss a rolled up blanket in his direction. Removing the keys from your mouth, you lock the car, muttering a ‘let’s go’, with a self-satisfied smile on your face.

Sam catches the blanket with ease, giving you a playful salute with his free hand. “Caught, boss. Lead the way.”

As you amble into the secluded meadow, a sense of tranquillity washes over you. The tall grass dances in the gentle breeze, the sunlight filtering through the leaves of the nearby trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground around you. You had picked this spot for a reason – to help Sam relax and enjoy the simple pleasure of doing absolutely nothing.

You dictate a spot, and he spreads out the chequered blanket, though unfortunately, that aforementioned sense of tranquillity hasn’t quite transferred to Sam. He can't seem to sit still; his leg bouncing slightly as he scans the surroundings. You frown at him, knowing his restless nature all too well. You decide to give him time, instead fishing into the bag to retrieve some of the things you’ve packed.

Once everything is laid out, you settle down on the ground, leaning back on your elbows and soaking in the natural beauty around you. Sam, however, still can't seem to sit still. He fidgets, shifting positions, and tapping his fingers against his knee.

You smirk at his restlessness. "Hey, remember the plan today," you say softly, a playful glint in your eye. "No checking your phone, no fidgeting, no damn smoking. Just us, the field, and a whole lot of relaxation."

You put emphasis on the last word, narrowing your eyes in an accusatory expression.

He looks at you as if you’ve said something ridiculous. “I- I am relaxed.”

You scoff, shaking your head as you get up onto your knees. “Nope. I’ve seen military lieutenants more relaxed than you, Samuel.” You say, hobbling behind him and bracing your hands on his shoulders. “You’re more tense than a damn bomb disposal unit. God, I thought you’d have wanted to actually chill out and enjoy spending some time with me before you ditch me in aid of another piece of old junk.” You say into his ear, digging your fingers into his trapezius as you infiltrate your speech with a lilt of teasing castigation.

“Old junk that pays the bills.” He sighs, turning his neck sideways as if to give you better access to the knots in his shoulders. Your thumb digs into a particularly tense spot, and you watch his nose crinkle as he winces at the ache.

“Loosen your shoulders.” You instruct, raising an authoritative brow towards him, which he sees in the corner of his vision. With a slight eye roll, he makes an effort to do as he’s told, slumping slightly into you as you continue to dig away at the knot. “Good boy.” You joke, feeling him grin in response as you peck his cheek.

As you feel the tension begin to give, a small hum of satisfaction slips out of Sam’s mouth, signalling the knot has dissipated enough for you to pull away. “We’ve got no agenda. Nothing to do. Nowhere to be.” You speak softly, crawling back around to the spot you were sitting in a moment ago. “You, sir, severely need to master the art of mitigating unnecessary stress.” You clasp your hands together before hovering over the selection of goodies you’d prepared. “Let’s start with something to eat.”

He sighs again, this time a genuine and slightly apologetic smile on his lips. He adjusts his sunglasses, before sitting up straight and showing interest in what’s in front of him.

“What’s on the menu, chef?”

You smile at the sight of him physically beginning to relax before you turn to the goods. “So— nothing exciting— a few veggies and some hummus, some of that focaccia I made the other day, a couple of cookies… oh…” You start, biting your lip in an attempt to restrain your excitement, “I stopped off at the farmer’s market on my way to work yesterday, and picked up some of those strawberries you were eyeing up last week.” You lean forwards to pick up the punnet. “Let me tell you, it took every ounce of willpower not to galvanise the lot on my way home. You’re a lucky guy.”

His shoulders jolt as he chuckles, his eyes lingering on you rather than the fruit. “I sure am.” You watch his eyes squint slightly, some sort of thought flashing through his mind. Sam's glance lowers he takes in the spread. “You really went all out, didn't you?"

You nod proudly, shifting until you’re beside him.

“I hope I’ve, uh, not forgotten some sort of… milestone or anything.” He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

You shake your head, a small chuckle leaving your lips. “Just wanted to take your mind off of things— to make sure you had no excuse to be restless today. And if that means forcing you into a food coma, so be it.”

Sam leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Well, I can think of one distraction I wouldn't mind."

You blush slightly, ignoring the familiar warmth spreading through, instead choosing to swat his arm. “Behave yourself."

He laughs at the sight of the warmth spreading over your cheeks, before reaching for a stick of cucumber. “You,” he taps it on the tip of your nose, “are too good to me.”

You laugh, wiping the residue off with the back of your hand as he takes a bite of the cucumber. “Yeah, don’t you forget it, toots.” You respond with a teasing smile, mimicking his accent to the best of your ability before removing the film from the pot of hummus and dipping your own cucumber slice into it.

After watching Sam scarf down at least seventy-five percent of the food without taking so much as a breath, you find yourselves lying side by side on the blanket, fingers interlaced as you gaze up at the sky. The gentle rustling of the grass and the distant hum of wildlife that surrounds you— give or take the odd mosquito you both fight over clapping to death— otherwise creates a peaceful cocoon for just the two of you.

Sam turns his head to look at your fingers as you absentmindedly trace circles over his forearm, a soft smile playing on his lips as you look at the small streaks of clouds dotted above you. “Hate to say it…but you were right.” You raise an eyebrow back at him, waiting for him to elaborate. “I needed this. You. Me. A whole lotta’ nothing.”

Feeling a deep sense of contentment, and perhaps a little smugness, you lay your head on his shoulder, humming in agreement. “See? Normalcy. Not all bad.” You get up onto your elbow, twisting for the punnet of strawberries. “You’re so chilled out, in fact, that you forgot-” You pause, biting the tip off of a strawberry before holding it above Sam’s lips, “about these.”

He grins up at you, opening his mouth and biting the rest of the strawberry off of its stem, placing a kiss onto your fingers as he chews. You throw the stem into the grass, before taking one of your own and eating it, sitting up to take in the hues of pink and orange appearing in the horizon; the sun begins to dip beneath it, casting a warm, golden glow over the meadow.

It’s all so peaceful and insanely rare for the two of you to spend so long doing so little together, so you take a moment to embrace the nothingness; The sound of trees rustling in the gentle breeze, the crickets beginning to chirp in the distance, the sound of a camera shutter going off…

“No!” You grunt, turning to Sam as he holds his phone discreetly facing you.

“No, no, no, hold that pose.”

“What- what pose? No! Screw off!” You swat your hand in his direction, trying to grab his phone off of him as he presses the button again. You climb on top of him, snatching his phone out of his hand, straddling his torso as you feverishly swipe for the gallery in order to prevent the photos from ever seeing the light of day. “God, I look awful- don’t-” You squeak out in surprise as Sam uses his size to his advantage, grabbing you by the waist, and pushing you onto your back, making light work of pinning your arms above your head in order to reclaim his phone.

“Absolutely not.” He shakes his head, wrestling his phone out of your hand and shoving it back into the pocket of his jeans as you writhe in protest. You attempt once more to pull your arms from his grip, rolling your eyes with a sigh once it proves futile. He looks down at you, chuckling at the heat rising through your face.

“My girl looks like a painting. I wanted a picture. And… I finally figured out how to focus stuff properly on that damn phone. Do not take that away from me.” He raises a brow as if to chastise you.

“But they were awful!” You whine. “All double chin and celluli-mph!” With a shake of his head, Sam unceremoniously shoves a strawberry into your mouth.

“Mmm. That’s better.” He smirks down at you as you frown and reluctantly begin to chew at the strawberry that’s slightly too big for your mouth. His thumb captures the juice that dribbles its way out of the corner of your lips, and your frown falters a little as he pushes it back into your mouth with a chuckle, effectively silencing you. Much to his amusement, your cheeks redden even more, as his hand gently squeezes them; his other hand effortlessly— irritatingly, rather— keeping your wrists above your head. “Wouldn’t want to pollute such gorgeous surroundings with your whining, now, would we?”

“You got leaves in my mouth.” You grumble through your squished cheeks, unable to hide the small smile growing on your lips as he finally lets go.

“Aww, sweetheart,” he goads with a teasing pout, gently nudging his nose against yours “Want me to get rid of ‘em for you?”

“Shut up.” You laugh, swallowing the remainder of the fruit as he pecks your lips.

He hovers above you, grin softening into a thoughtful smile as his eyes take in every sun kissed freckle on your face. “Thank you.” His hand pulls away from your wrists, removing his sunglasses before coming to rest softly on your jaw.

Your brows furrow.

“For what?”

He closes his eyes for a second, almost as if he doesn’t want to speak. He does, regardless, a slight flush on his face. “For giving me a soft place to land.” He’ll never be fully comfortable with this wishy-washy relationship stuff, but he’s making an effort, and you’ll forever appreciate that.

You smile up at him, your hands coming down to cup his cheeks. “I could turn that into a self-deprecating joke…” you start, but swiftly continue as Sam narrows his eyes at you, “…But I… sense this is the wrong moment for that.”

“Damn right it is.” He says, dipping down once more to kiss you. This time it lingers, eyes closing and thumbs stroking skin as he savours the strawberry-tinged sweetness of your lips.

His teeth pull gently at your lower lip, parting them just enough for his tongue to meet yours as he smirks into the kiss. Your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging lightly in order to keep the gap closed.

One hand kneads at your thigh, and it’s not until he begins to slide it up further that you break the kiss for a moment, holding him just shy of your face.

“We can’t.” You bashfully whisper, lips wet, cheeks hot.

“Why not?” He smirks.

You laugh, looking up at him as if he’s a total idiot. “What if someone sees?”

“No one’s gonna see. There hasn’t been a sign of anyone for over an hour.” He retaliates, continuing to softly knead at your thigh. You bite your lip, eyes anxiously darting around as Sam takes in your expression. His hand shifts up further, magnetising your glare towards him.

“Hey, you say the word, and I’ll stop.” He shrugs above you, thumb stroking at your inner thigh. “But, personally, I don’t see the need.”

You swallow, lips parting to speak, but as his fingertips find the hem of your underwear, any potential words fail you.

“You know,” he speaks low, the whole mood taking a drastic shift, “I’ve also gotta thank you for wearing a dress for once.” He plants a kiss just under your ear, making you shiver. “Not only do you look so, so pretty,” You roll your eyes again as he speaks, biting your lip to dilute your coy smile as his fingers hook around the waistband, “but also, the easy access is really something I could get used to.”

“Christ, you’re awful.” You finally grumble, giving in completely, hurrying to pull him back down to you in a heated kiss as he rolls your underwear down your thighs.

“And you’re already soaked. So, clearly, I'm not that bad.” He says, barely paying your clit any attention as he gathers a little of your slick onto his fingers, before he slides them knuckle deep inside you, in turn, drawing a choked gasp from your throat.

“Jesus- Don’t… hold back or anything.” You say, voice breathless and sarcastic, instantly earning another smirk from Sam.

“I don’t intend to, doll.” He grins, coming back down for another kiss as he curls his fingers, coaxing perfectly against your g-spot. Your soft groan permeates the kiss, your hands drifting down to his belt buckle, making light work of it before you go for the button. “Someone did a quick one-eighty, didn’t they?” Sam chuckles as you reach inside his jeans, beginning to palm him over the remaining layer of fabric keeping him covered.

“Shush.” You murmur, pulling his cock out of his boxers, fully wrapping your fist around him.

“But it’s true.” He chuckles back, burying his face into the crook of your neck as you begin to jerk him off, inhaling the sun cream and perfume concoction that gorgeously complements your natural scent. It drives him insane.

“You give it all this ‘we can’t’ nonsense, but this is what you really want, isn’t it?” He swallows, chuckling to himself again as he places an open-mouthed kiss on your neck. “You want to be fingered in the middle of a public field, where aaanyone could walk by and see me treat you like a filthy little whore, huh?”

His sudden shift in tone has you flush faster than ever, a gargled sound rising from your throat as your hairs stand on end and his thumb brushes against your clit. Your chest rises and falls much more rapidly as he turns more crass, and his cheeky demeanour becomes much more presiding. You’re riling him up just as much as he’s getting to you.

And you did a one-eighty? He’s one to talk.

“Answer me, sweetheart.” He speaks into your ear, teeth gently pulling on your earlobe as your hand squeezes around him harder. He pulls himself up more as if to take the sight of you beneath him in; Sam’s teeth graze against his bottom lip as he sees your breath hitch, the sudden, needy tightening of your fingers in his hair, a silent but obvious plea to further the motions. And he gives you what you want, adding a third digit just to see you squirm. God, how pretty you look all stretched out around him. His smug grin teases you as he jokes about adding one more. About how greedy his girl is.

“C’mon, tell me what you want.” he spurs, cock twitching in your hand in response to your whines and the feeling of your pussy clenching around his fingers.

“This.” You whimper, squeezing him hard for emphasis. “You.”

He could keep dragging this out, tease you a little more, make you beg, but, as much as he hates to admit it, he urgently wants you too. You look so sweet- so appetising- like one of those strawberries- and he has to satiate the need to feel that delicious stretch of your core around him.

So with a grunt, he scoops you up, fingers still working your cunt as he pulls you into his lap. Hand on the small of your back, he ruts the other even faster, drawing out more gasps and moans that you’re not even attempting to keep hushed any more. Dog walkers be damned. This is your fucking meadow.

You can’t help but curse loudly as his thumb assaults your clit, knees trembling either side of his thighs as he keeps you spread open. Your head falls onto his shoulder, hands bracing themselves on his upper arms as your composure is all but failing to remain in place, though before too long, he’s nudging your head upright with his own, wanting to see every facial expression he’s giving you.

“You wanna cum on my fingers or on my cock?” He breathes, missing the stimulation of your hand, secretly wishing for the latter. You’re biting your lip, feeling way too stimulated to form a sentence without making a fool of yourself, so you paw at his wrist- it's enough of a signal that his wish is about to be granted. He gives you a few more thrusts of his fingers before pulling out of you, and you tremble with want, hating the sudden emptiness.

The emptiness, of course, doesn’t last long. He jerks himself a few times, giving you a few seconds to catch your breath before he pulls you forwards, lining himself up and letting you lower yourself onto him. He lets out a long-held breath, groaning a little as he stretches you out and feels you give around him, tight and warm. Your nails dig into his biceps as he bottoms out, your throat tightening as you take him to the hilt.

“Three fingers, and you’re still so damn tight, princess.” He teases, still giving you a moment to adjust. You let out a breathy giggle, feeling the warm evening breeze tickle your hot cheeks as Sam rummages beside the pair of you.

You watch with heavy-lidded eyes as his hand, half-coated in your arousal, brings another strawberry to your lips. You look into his eyes, and he gives you a small nod, watching with fascinated lust as he presses the berry to your parted lips. You open your mouth slightly, just enough for him to push it in, and he can’t help but lick his lips as he watches you take a bite, your tongue lapping up the juice from the strawberry, as well as his fingers, your gentle moans sending vibrations through his forearm as you do so.

"Such a pretty girl." Sam mutters, testing the waters with a gentle thrust upwards. Your eyes flutter shut as he keeps your mouth filled, and you continue to softly lap at and suck every part of the strawberry as he takes the lead again, bouncing you on his dick as you savour the sweetness of the fruit and the tang of your own juices.

You moan loudly as he speeds up, hitting deeper still as you arch your back a little, hips rocking to stimulate your aching clit.

Sam lets out a low chuckle as a dribble of watery-red flows down your chin, leaving a pink stain on the bust of your dress.

He takes the opportunity to grab you by the throat, almost violently pulling you into another kiss as he feels you swallow the strawberry. He groans at the taste of his favourite fruit and his favourite girl, tongue exploring every inch he can reach within your mouth as you grind yourself onto him rougher.

His other hand moves from the small of your back, unable to decide on where to land- a clear sign that he's fast-approaching his peak. He gropes and strokes wherever he can whilst his other hand keeps your mouth firmly against his own, and as you push your upper body harder against him, he pulls you down too, now straddled over him as he lays on his back.

Desperate to feel his skin, your arm snakes under his raglan shirt, absorbing the feeling of every hair, every scar, every bit of soft or firm you can reach, whilst your other reaches between the two of you, sandwiched between your bodies as you find your clit to bring yourself where you want to be even faster.

The two of you can barely fucking breathe, but you don't care. You could pass out-- die, right here, and never would you have felt better.

Sam loosens his grip on your throat, wet, pink-stained lips parting to let out a rare, and fucking beautiful whimper as his arms desperately embrace you, clamping you down on top of him as you rock your hips back and forth like your life depends on it.

When he fills you, you almost cry; the feeling of him twitching, spilling everything into you, and just knowing you're the one that's brought him to that ecstacy makes you feel more adoration for Sam than you could ever express with words.

And then you cum. Laying flat on top of him as a rush of heat floods you in your entirety, the spasming of your core making him hiss in overstimulation but equal adoration as his fingers dig into the clammy nape of your neck.

You finally still, bar the shared heavy breathing, making your bodies rise and fall in tandem.

Seconds pass. Minutes, even, and you're dangerously close to drifting off.

"Holy shit."

You laugh, spent.

"That's all you've got to say to your... what was it? Your 'little whore'?"

He rasps out a chuckle, too fucked out to even hide the fact that he's blushing profusely- something only you can make him do. Then a nod, continuing to stroke at the baby hairs that rest curled and matted on the back of your neck.

"Those strawberries?" He clears his throat, dismantling the rasp in his voice, "We're doing that again."

You lift your head, just enough to kiss the tip of his nose. "I'll have to remember not to wear white next time."

"Who said you've got to wear anything at all?" He says, shrugging.

You laugh into his chest as you feel him slide out of you, your hand still tracing shapes on his stomach underneath his shirt.

"You are… just…"

For a moment, there's nothing else. You raise your head again, looking up at him to gauge where the sentence is going, your thumb stroking the bridge of his nose that you love so much.

Another moment, and you know he's struggling to find his words, as he always does when he's trying to express his feelings. But the way he's looking at you tells you everything. So, you gently kiss him, non-verbally letting him know he doesn't need to speak. That you've got him.

And as he watches the golden hour sun bathe your skin, he's captivated by you. He really couldn't ask for any more.

#sam drake #samuel drake #sam drake x reader #uncharted #samuel drake smut #samuel drake x reader

[fluloa]

A TINY TUBE | sam drake x reader [chapter fic]

“Oh, shit.”

Two lines. Two red, thin lines. You blinked one time. Two times. Yep, they were still there, redder than the lipstick sitting in your makeup bag and plastered on a white tiny tube.

What the fuck? Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck?

You had to be hallucinating shit. It’s just really late, that’s all. You’re beginning to see things from exhaustion. Yeah, that’s it.

You stood up, feeling shaky in the legs as you splashed cold water on your face. You looked to the pregnancy test once again.

“Okay,” you sighed. “We’re just gonna take a shower, and head straight to bed. It’s a dodgy test! I did get it from the dollar store.”

Wait— Sam. Fuck. Sam. Your heart picked up a pace. Wait! No, he’s on a fishing trip with Nate. He’ll be back in a night and two days. Fuck. Relax, girl.

Why are you worrying, anyway? It’s a dodgy test.

You strip yourself of your clothes, naked and lightly shivering from the cool wind flowing in from your tiny window. You shut it, accidentally a little too hard and you flinch. Your eyes catch in the mirror in front of you.

You are exhausted, that’s for sure. Bad stomach cramps lately. Your period hasn’t come for a week. You vomited twice in three days. You’ve caught barely any sleep. Your body’s sweaty consistently.

Your hands skim slowly to the lower curve of your belly, the warm flesh feathering at your fingertips. Maybe it wasn’t a dodgy test.

You woke up the next morning feeling almost dead, your hair tangled and eyelids puffed. A part of you was absolutely thrilled about having a small little bean growing inside of you, and the other was drop-dead afraid.

You began to think. The last time you and Sam had sex was about two weeks ago, just before he left on the fishing trip. You both had just finished locating and collecting the patiala necklace and stumbled into a dark, wet cave. Banged it out like no tomorrow. Popped a morning after pill you bought from a Mexican cheap store into your mouth and called it a day.

Okay, you were definitely pregnant.

“I think I’m gonna stop buying medical things from cheap stores.” You said to yourself, reaching down and patting your belly softly.

Your mind drifted to Sam once again. How’d he react? Would he be upset, happy, mad? The baby would affect your jobs, and Sam had told you many times before that he didn’t want to stop nor take a break any time soon. You’ve been together for a year, but hadn’t even bothered to talk about babies. Marriage, yeah. But babies?

Guess you had two days to prepare. You picked up your phone, opening up messages and tapping into Elena’s contact. Sliding the phone to your cheek, you were taken aback when she picked up immediately.

”Y/N.”

”Hey. Can I come o—“

”Yes.” Elena groaned, piercing your right ear with her loud voice. “I’m bored. Cassie’s bored. Get your ass over here right now.”

“Okay,” you laughed. “I’ll be there in five.”

As you go to end the call, Elena yells out three. You laugh again. Of course you would go to her first, especially since baby Cassie is turning one soon and god knows Elena’s information and experience on pregnancy. She’s also your closest and only female friend you have. Then again, you don’t know what her reaction will be.

You’re in her driveway in a flash, with one of Sam’s shirts and some sport shorts. You knock at her door, gasping when it flings open and wind gushes at your face.

“Hey. Love the outfit,” Elena grins. Her warm eyes flicker to your hair, which is effortlessly pinned up into a messy bun as it tilts to a side.

“Thanks.” You mumble, walking into her home and immediately being greeted to a little baby girl crawling her way to you. She gurgles, her shining blonde hair curling out and bouncing as she claps her hands.

“Hey there, honey…” you reach down, ignoring the stinging pinch in your back as you pick Cassie up and bounce her on your hip.

“We’ve missed you,” Elena smirks, as Cassie grabs your hair and yanks it, loosening the bun.

You wince, “I can tell. Missed you too.”

”So, a coffee?” she asks, making her way into the kitchen. You follow her, sitting down on one of the stools and placing Cassie on your thigh. “Or two coffees?”

Shit. Are you allowed coffee while pregnant? You don’t know, and you won’t take any chances.

“Uh— None, thanks.”

Elena frowns, flicking on the kettle while she stares you down. “Okay…”

“Possibly some water. I just brushed my teeth, that’s all.”

You let out a mental sigh when she brushes you off. Nice improv, you think.

“You can go into the loungeroom. Put on some Netflix or something. And no cocomelon.”

You roll your eyes, letting out an exasperated groan. You trudge over to the nearby loungeroom, pinching at the top of Cassie’s shirt and wiping around her mouth. “Mom’s just being a party pooper. Cocomelon is the bomb.”

“Mom heard that.”

“Huh? What? I said nothing,” you say. You decided to put on a kid’s movie, and it wasn’t long until Elena was on the couch next to you with a water bottle and coffee.

“So,” Elena said.

Cassie was playing with your left hand, trying to bend and twist the fingers. “So,” you replied. Elena hands you the water bottle, and you take it with gratitude.

“You gonna tell me something?”

“Right.” You breathed in, something Elena didn’t fail to notice. Your hand tenses around the water bottle, plastic crinkling as you mentally prepare yourself for the outcome. “Um, when did you first begin to realise you were pregnant?”

You avoid her gaze, focusing on the way Cassie’s chubby fingers clutched around your larger ones. When you notice that Elena hadn’t responded for a weird amount of time, you turned to look at her.

Her eyes were wide, a small frown and her mouth open like the letter O. She flicked her eyes to your stomach, then back up to your face. “You’re not…”

”Well—“

”Holy fucking shit, you’re pregnant!” Elena squeaks, and you jump at her loud tone.

“Jesus, Elena. Yeah, I guess so? I think so. I tested positive,” you ramble. Elena’s arms whip out, gripping you firm on the shoulders and shaking you hard. “Hey— hey, Cassie’s on my lap—“

”Hooooly shit! You’re gonna have a baby!” Elena shakes you, and you’re sure you’re going to get a concussion. She finally lets you go, letting you catch your breath. “Was it planned?”

“No, it wasn’t.” Still out of breath, you tuck some hair behind your ear.

“… Does he know?”

“No.”

Elena blinks a few times. “I just… wow. You’re pregnant. And Sam doesn’t know.”

You groan, chugging some water as the coldness strikes your throat, “Yeah.”

“Wait, so, it wasn’t planned.” Elena adds, before dropping her tone down to a playful one, “How did that happen?”

Putting the water bottle down on the couch, you cover Cassie’s tiny ears. “After we found the patiala necklace. In a, um, cave. No condom, and I took a morning after pill.”

You mumble the last part under your breath.

“Oh my god.” Elena sighs, shaking her head as gentle chuckles slip from her lips. Your face flushes warm.

“It was like, intense too. My ass still hurts from when he was pushi—“

”Okay! No more details,” the blonde cries. You smirk, finally uncovering Cassie’s ears and squishing at her soft cheeks.

You breathe out, a sadness dropping into your voice. “But I just don’t know how he’ll react. Don’t know how to tell him.”

“Honestly, me neither.” Elena admits, rolling up the long sleeves of her black cotton shirt. “Sam as a dad… that’s a weird thought.”

“Maybe he won’t have to be,” you say. It’s the truth. You don’t know whether or not you’re going to keep it. The thought of the choice sends a chill down your spine.

“Just see how it goes. Talk to him about it. At the end of the day, it’s your choice.” Elena places her hand onto your arm, her peachy lips out-stretched into a genuine smile. You weakly smile back.

About two hours later, you’re back at your house, munching away at some noodles you spotted in the fridge. The show you’re watching is quite interesting, and coincidentally, a female character just found out she was pregnant.

The female character screams and runs around the house while knocking over a bunch of things.

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. You pause mid-eating, noodles dangling from your lips. A rather rough knock. It’s weird, because you weren’t expecting anyone today. You can’t help but feel goosebumps arise on your skin, a sense of fear creeping into you.

You walk over to the door, gliding it open slowly. Your heart then skips about ten beats.

“Hey there, beautiful girl.” Sam grins, fishing equipment dangling from his arm.

You splat out a hey as he scoops his arm around your back, pulling you in swift and kissing you firm on the lips. You’re greeted with the familiar taste of tobacco and pine, a taste you’ve grown to love and adore. But one you weren’t expecting until tomorrow. The warmth of his tongue dips into your mouth, taking you aback and you let a gasp flow from your throat.

He walks you back into the house, fishing equipment dropping onto the tiles with a loud clatter. He breathes against your lips, “Miss me?”

He pushes you against the side of the kitchen bench, his hands roaming along your stomach and legs before gripping at your hips. He picks you up, dunking you on the surface and tongue plunging into your mouth all at once. It’s too much.

Your hands find his shoulders, digging your fingertips into the fluffiness of his black jumper. You gently push him back, to which he surprisingly obliges to and leans back, staring up at you with those all too familiar dark golden eyes.

”You’re early,” you say, huffing as his thumbs massage circles into your hips.

“Sure am. Thought I’d surprise you and come home a day early.” He reaches into his back pocket, fishing around for something. “I got you something.”

You nod as he takes something from his pocket, his hand closed into a fist. Your eyes widen when his hand stretches out, revealing a black beaded necklace that shone a little underneath the kitchen yellow light.

“It was in one of the markets. It’s simple, but I think it’s cute,” Sam explains. He unclips the metal clip, lifting his arms and wrapping it around your neck. You hear a click, your fingers moving to play with the beaded necklace.

“It’s pretty. Thanks, baby.”

He’s already leaning closer as you say those words, his eyes landing on the plumpness of your lips. “You’re welcome.”

His mouth is back on yours again, more aggressive, more hungry. His fingers slip underneath your shirt, the warmness of his tips dancing along the skin of your belly before grabbing at your sides. You let him pick you up (again), leading you to the couch and plonking you there.

He presses at the button of your jeans, skilfully flicking it undone and swiftly gripping onto your metal zipper. He’s moving too fast, and you can’t catch up. You hum an uncomfortable grunt, placing your hands on his chest and pushing him. His face is written in confusion as he jumps off of you, his mouth glistened with saliva and his pupils dilated. Fuck, he looked good. But you needed to talk. As much as you didn’t want to.

“What did I do?” he asks, and god, the look on his face makes you want to just jump back onto him.

“You didn’t do anything, it’s just— we need to talk.”

His gaze averts to the ground for a second, his chest sinking and he wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. “Alright.”

He looks worried, and you can tell that he is because of the way his tongue pokes from the bottom of his mouth. He does that when he’s worried. Fuck, there’s that feeling, the yucky swirly shit that thrushes in the pit of your tummy.

“I tested positive.”

You said the words in a big blurred rush, not connecting his burning gaze on you, instead playing with your fingers.

“You… tested positive?” he repeated, his voice wavering and quiet.

“On a pregnancy test.”

His jaw dropped, his eyes now unfocused and not on you and now on your abdomen. “You have a baby. In there.”

“Mhm,” you murmur.

“Oh, shit.”

“That’s what I said.” You dryly chuckle, your eyes settled in a wince and he flicks his attention back up to you. There’s something in his eyes that you can’t pin point.

“You’re pregnant.” He said, sounding as if the words were to himself. “Holy fuck.”

You couldn’t ignore the pain rumbling in your chest, your lips twitching into a miniature pout. He didn’t want it. “Yeah… I know. I can organise an appoi—“

”I’m gonna be a fucking daddy,” he laughed, his teeth poking out as his mouth stretches into a grin.

”What? You aren’t upset?” you question. That wasn’t the sentence you were expecting.

“Are you kidding me? We’re gonna have a frickin’ kid and you think I’m upset?”

“Well, yeah, I mean, I thought it would be a burden. We’re busy all the time, and you’ve told me many times that you don’t want to take a break any time soon.”

“We just found a necklace that gave us about a million each. I’m pretty sure we’ll be fine for now,” Sam grins.

You frown. “But… so… you wanna keep it?”

“Yes. Fuck, more than anything.” He lets out a breathy laugh, leaning over and cupping your cheek. You could just melt. You seriously could absolutely just melt into his hands like a hot puddle of runny goop. He wanted the baby, he wanted it.

He kisses you, a kiss so sweet and sensual that you can barely believe it’s his lips giving it to you. You can’t help but let a groan out, your hands sliding up his back and into his messy brown hair.

“Can’t fuckin’ believe it,” he sighs against your hot lips, gushing sounds forming as he slips his tongue in to catch your own. “My baby’s gonna have a baby.”

You giggle, and it turns into a low gasp when his hand snakes, down to the liner of your jeans and skimming underneath to touch the rim of your underwear.

“This is the only action I’ll be getting for a while, right?” Sam asks, his breath hot and wet against your mouth.

“You know it, cowboy.” You take your own hand and scoop underneath his jacket, slipping it off his shoulder. “So make it worth its while.”

A devilish smirk paints across his lips, grabbing you tight and laying you out on the couch. He hikes his arm up your thigh and wraps it around his large hip, dropping his voice an octave lower. “Yes ma’am.”

#sam drake #samuel drake #sam drake x reader #fluff #some smut too #lol couldn’t help myself #sam drake as a baby daddy #oh yeah motherfucker #sam drake smut #pregnant reader

[hogarthwrites]

Happily Never After

pairing: samuel drake/femme!reader (m/f)

genre: hurt, angst

words: 1091

summary:

Sam deals with heartbreak for the first time.

Samuel Drake approached love apathetically. To him, it was something that came and went, like a passionate night with a beautiful stranger. He didn’t believe in “happily ever after” unless it involved an unfathomable amount of treasure, so he had let every romantic opportunity pass him by.

That was, until he met her. She was the hurricane that crashed through the door of his heart, blowing him away with emotions he never knew he could feel before. He couldn’t get her out of his head the first few months they started dating, and he almost felt like a fool, acting like a silly schoolboy in love. But there it was: love.

Sam knew it the moment he woke up one Sunday morning and she turned to smile at him, adoring the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes.

“Good morning,” was all she said and that was it; he had bought her a ring that very afternoon and proposed.

Of course, it wasn’t always all good. There were days they’d argue, especially when Sam had to go away for months again. But the moment he stepped back into their apartment, their clothes strewn on the floor, all was forgiven.

Or, at least that’s what Sam had thought until the moment he stood at the altar, staring at the heavy wooden doors. He had spent weeks wondering how she’d look entering those very doors, hoping she’d give him that smile he fell so deeply in love with, but as the clock ticked, he started to get nervous.

Nathan gave Sam a worried look, but he shook his head. She wouldn’t leave him like that, right?

He glanced at his watch; it’s been an hour and a half since the wedding started, and guests were starting to whisper.

“I’m sorry, kid,” Victor quietly said.

Sam’s hands fell to his sides, suddenly he couldn’t feel his legs and there was a lump in his throat. He couldn’t believe she would stand him up.

“Sam…” He could feel Nathan grab his shoulders, but he shoved him away.

He made his way out of the chapel, and, almost as if out of habit, started to climb the steeple. His heart hurt, but he climbed, feeling the chilly Boston air as he made his way up. He couldn’t believe he was back in this city he’d hated growing up, thinking this new beginning with the love of his life would’ve changed how he felt about it. Instead, he was sitting on the roof of an old church, his heart shattered into pieces again.

At that moment, he felt like a kid again, when Frank left him and Nathan at the orphanage. At just eleven years old, Sam couldn’t understand why his own father didn’t want them anymore. He had cried and cried on the roof of one of the orphanage dorms, feeling sour about the sermon Father Duffy had given earlier that day. If God was real, why would he let us feel this way, he had thought. 

Decades later, Sam had the same thought, wondering what he had done to make her go, and if he even still deserved love. 

“No one else in the world, baby,” she had told him just a few months ago as they lounged on the sofa, bathed in sunlight. She gave him a kiss as she held up her hand with the stunning ring he had given her. “Just you and me.”

The memory hurt him more. 

“Hey, Sam, I’m so sorry,” Sam felt a strong hand on his shoulder.

Nathan stood next to him, worry cast over his face. 

“It’s fine,” Sam waved a dismissive hand at him. “I’m fine. I’ve been through prison, what’s a little heartbreak, huh?”

Nathan sighed as he sat next to him. “You’re not fine. You know it’s okay to let it out, right?”

“Yeah,” Sam looked out into the horizon. “Fuck,” his voice broke as the tears started falling again. “Fuck, I don’t want to be dramatic, but this shit hurts more than a goddamn bullet.”

“Love will do that to you.”

“Fuck that,” Sam almost laughed. “What did I do?”

Nathan shrugged. “Did she give any indication of leaving?”

“No,” Sam scoffed. “Or maybe I didn’t see it because I’m a goddamn asshole.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, it could be anything.”

Sam stared down at his hand. If things had gone right, he would’ve been wearing a ring by now. 

Nathan had never seen his older brother this vulnerable, he felt bad he didn’t know what to say. And so, the Drake brothers sat side by side as Sam quietly cried.

“I might as well go home,” Sam sighed. 

“Are you sure? You can stay with me and Elena for a while.”

“Nah, I need some time alone.”

Sam gave Nathan a sad smile. “Thanks, though, I ‘ppreciate it.”

The apartment was freezing when Sam came in. She had packed up all her things, but left a note on her side of the bed. Written neatly on a folded piece of paper was his name in black ink that had run because of her tears. 

Sam sat on the cold wooden floor as he unfolded the letter.

Dear Sam,

I want you to know this isn’t something I just decided to do. You’ve always been good to me, and I’ve never loved a man more than I’ve loved you, but the past few months have been tough with you always away. I spent so many nights so afraid you wouldn’t come home, wondering what you were doing, wanting to reach out, but I couldn’t.

Sam, I can’t live like this. I can’t live being afraid that the man I love will just be taken away from me at any given time, but I can’t make you walk away from treasure hunting. I know better than to compete with a man’s first love. 

I never wanted to hurt you like this, but I just can’t marry you with this fear in my heart. I hope you understand. 

I’m sorry, Sam.

Sam tossed the letter to the floor. Solitary confinement in a Panamanian prison seemed like a better option than the torture he felt at that moment. 

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” He whispered as he buried his head between his knees. “Fuck.”

He crawled into the bed he had shared with her, the smell of her perfume faintly lingering, making him feel like he was being stabbed in the heart a hundred times. He knew “happily ever after” wasn’t real.

#sam drake x reader #sam drake #samuel drake #uncharted fanfiction #angst #hurt

[thepaperpanda]

Blankets and Cuddles || Sam Drake x fem!reader

Masterlist ❄

Summary: The winter can be difficult for Sam Drake, especially when his old wounds flare up as the weather changes. Thankfully, you seem to have a remedy for everything 😊

Warnings: none

Word count: 672

Author: Cass

A/N: today’s prompt: blankets and cuddling Devider by Firefly Graphics - ⛄

As for Sam, winter time was about 50/50. It was fun because of Christmas; he enjoyed spending time with his family and friends; playing with Cassy and quiet evenings were some of his favorites. In contrast, Sam sometimes really didn't feel well, all thanks to that stupid, old-fun wounds - those painful souvenirs loved to act up during winter season. Pain made him quiet and blue, he wasn't in the mood for anything.

That was why you were worried most of the time when he wasn't all well. There was always something to worry about. It was Sam who was and always would be your beloved treasure hunter, always willing to take you along to the craziest jobs. You took care of him at home and at work, so you felt bad that you couldn't relieve his pain.

Sam's voice caught your attention as you were cooking soup for the two of you in the kitchen.

“Sweetheart, where are my painkillers?” Drake asked.

It was just one of those days. After gazing over your shoulder, you sighed softly and opened a cabinet to grab the little bottle, fill a glass with water, and go to bed.

Sam was sitting at his desk. During the colder months, when there were no discoveries to be made, Sam enjoyed writing about his adventures. As you approached him, he closed the laptop and looked at you sadly.

As you handed him the pill and the glass, you said quietly, "Here." 

While your hand moved through his hair, Sam muttered a soft 'thank you' and swallowed the pill instantly.

"I guess it will be another evening in bed," he chuckled and nuzzled your belly. "I know I promised you a walk this evening, but I don't think I can keep my promise, I'm so sorry."

While shaking your head, your hand rested on his nape; you hated when he apologized like this, he did nothing wrong, it was all beyond his control, yet he still kept on apologizing. "Love, don't be silly. I understand. There won't be an end to the world today. We'll be able to take a stroll some other time."

"I guess I'll lie down," he sighed.

As you stroked his hair, you nodded. "That's a good idea. Warm beds are good."

Likewise, Sam got up from the chair and kissed your forehead before walking away.

As soon as he left the room, you returned to the kitchen to make sure the dinner wouldn't burn down.

As much as you wanted to serve the soup immediately after it was prepared, you stopped yourself. Sam still didn't come down to you, which meant he was still not feeling well, so it wasn't worth forcing him.

Taking a seat on a high chair, you hummed while thinking of ways to relieve your man's pain. After a few minutes of contemplation, you snapped your fingers and figured it all out.

Sam woke up to the door opening, and there you were, standing in your short pjs, holding the few blankets you owned.

You didn't say anything - you simply removed the duvet on your side, took a seat, then patted your legs a little before sliding down.

After watching you for a moment, he settled between your legs, wrapping his arms around you.

Your smile spread across your face as you kissed the top of his head before covering him with a duvet and covering him with blankets to create extra warmness for him. 

Thanks to you, Sam was already feeling better. He nuzzled your belly and hummed.

Wrapping your arms around him, you whispered, "I can tell you like it."

He nodded. "I have you close to me. That's the best medicine."

You gently squeezed him before making sure the blankets were properly positioned on him.

Cuddling like this, surrounded by blankets, both you and Sam drifted off into a deep sleep. Your knowledge of how to help even in times of pain was impressive. He never received a better gift than you.

#sam drake #sam drake x reader #samuel drake #samuel drake x reader #sam drake fanfiction #uncharted fanfiction #sam drake fluff #samuel drake fluff #uncharted 4 #uncharted fluff #paperpanda winter writing event

[not-approvedtrash]

puttin myself out there i guess

i've literally never posted a fic in a public setting before but i am in DEEP with the uncharted brain worms and i've spent the last three nights outlining a sam drake x reader story i'm dying to share. there is seriously not enough sam fics in the world like i'm pretty sure i've read them ALL so fine i'll do it myself and all that jazz anyway stay tuned?

#uncharted #uncharted 4 #samuel drake #sam drake #samuel drake x reader #sam drake x reader #uncharted 4 x reader #sam drake smut #samuel drake smut #nathan drake #naughtydog

[nathandrakeisabottom]

Yesss please sam drake food/eating hcs?? Fave meals, hated meals, etc

It is with great joy and great belatedness that I post my first Uncharted piece in ages. Thank you for the lovely ask, anon. :)

⋆ Sam Drake - Eating Headcanons ⋆

Two words: scarcity mindset.

After running away from Saint Frances’s, to claim money was tight is to be telling some humorous bit, Money was borderline non-existent. And as such, came what the Drake boys do best: theft. 

Liquor stores were their easiest, and most consistent source. Sam still takes great pride in telling his many stories revolving around ‘cashier meet-cutes’ disguising their proudest heist to date: a 12-year-old Nathan smuggling canned goods under a moth-holed hoodie. 

Because of this, gas station snacks: twinkies, Lays chips, slurpees, etc. all tend to give him this simultaneous sense of nostalgia and nausea. Like when you’re eating eggs and all of a sudden, your body gags on the next bite.

But on an especially shitty day, expect him to be gobbling a Big Gulp and a half-frozen hot dog on the nearest street corner, with a half-smoked cigarette still sunken between his lips. It’s the way he wallows. 

Secretly wants you to tell him how bad that shit is for him so he has an excuse to snottily spat back “who the ‘ell cares?”. He finds pride in not caring about anything. (He cares about everything.)

Getting fast food at the drive-thru? Man waves you off a total of three times claiming he doesn’t want nothing before proceeding to eat half of your McNuggets without asking. He loves BBQ sauce and needs Tabasco on everything like it’s his will to live.

Big fan of spicy, sour, and tart, anything that makes your mouth pucker. Pretzels, salt and vinegar chips, cottage cheese, pickles, pineapple (😉). “What can I say? I admire a fruit that fights back!” — he snorts before taking a raw bite of a lemon, just to squirm you out.

Maybe a bit of the masochist in him. 

When he and Nate were able to get proper gigs (12-year-old Nathan: illegally, of course), they were able to progress to the simplest of grocery outlet options. Eggs, instant ramen packets, canned vegetables that were 9 out of 10 times eaten raw out of the can with a fork, and more nothing-but-toast-for-dinner than they’d want to admit).

Sam and Nate spent most of their childhood eating their dad’s scrambled eggs and microwaved peas. When their mom passed, and dad released them to the state, Sam decided he’d only ever eat over-easy again.

Nate still chooses scrambled. He asks for cheese and green onions to split the difference, but always ends up only eating half of it before the memories come too strong and he has to push his plate away. 

QUICK eater. MESSY eater. And I mean quick and messy. 

Will use as minimal cutlery as possible, and if disposable, even better.

A scooper. Tends to be a chronic careless spiller with how frequently he tries to funnel all the last crumbs into his mouth, how quickly he chugs even a glass of water. (Most shirts of his are stained as a result.)

Tends to wait till the last possible moment to eat or drink anything. Breakfast basically doesn’t exist to him. 

Spills more beverage down his chin and shirt than his mouth (but a wet t-shirt certainly isn’t the worst thing to happen. Especially not to Samuel Drake. ;)

Pizza order: Meat Lover’s with extra sausage. Maybe some green bell peppers when he finally compromises with Nate during movie night.

Never, ever orders (well, non-alcoholic) drinks when eating out. And only water when he finally lets himself cave. Otherwise, he’s stealing sips from the nearest patron’s Jarrito bottle (his favorite is Tamarind).

Doesn’t bother cleaning up his fruit peels or peanut shells, even around others. That shit’s going on the floor without a second look.

Surprisingly, a king and natural on the BBQ. Despite having so little in their childhood, Sam still tried to go hard on the holidays for Nathan’s sake. Fourth of July is still Nate’s favorite holiday exclusively because of Sam’s public park-smoked ribs and the long, bumpy motorcycle ride up the highest hill in whatever city they were currently loitering in, just to see the fireworks. 

A dive bar master. Nate always orders whatever grease-covered appetizer they got in the back. Sam purposely keeps his stomach empty so there’s more room for whiskey. (Since nobody asked, incredible at pool, and will offer any woman in a twenty foot circumference a lesson. Cue the leaning chest over back, cue stick fantasy.)

A love language that was a total surprise to him is his partner cooking/baking something just for him, especially if it’s from scratch. Gets that rare, soft look in his eyes as he watches them carefully place each steaming plate onto the table. And trust, he’s not looking at the food when it happens.

Loves his partner in an apron. Like… loves his partner in an apron.

Make him food, and as soon as it’s eaten, he’s eating you after. ;)

When he finally settles down post-Madagascar, it’s a fucking struggle to get him to go grocery shopping at all for the first few months. 

Self-punishment, maybe. 

Nathan buys them himself instead and leaves them on the porch of Sam’s trailer park home when he’s too depressed to answer the door. 

Basically has to be forced to eat actual meat and vegetables. For the first few months, he reverts and eats only familiar prison food. The same single pot of chili/beans for a whole week, half portions only for each meal. Uncooked canned carrots. Microwave popcorn when Nathan calls him asking if he’s eaten, and when Sam lies, it sounds more believable with the microwave droning in the background.

However, when he finally starts to pick himself back up, when he gets his first day job since prison, finally lets Nate buy him a used truck to get around, his first solo call from Sully, that’s when he finally starts to eat.

And when he finally feels like himself again, when he finally lets himself want to live again, the first hobby that Sam Drake takes up is cooking.

#uncharted #sam drake #sam drake x reader #uncharted 4 #uncharted 4: a thief's end #shea is back babyyyy (at least a little bit) #life's been real hard and i think i need to go back to uncharted and writing a bit to save my soul #also i love this man and wanna see him well #don't we all??? #also biggest hugs and heart eyes to the anon who decided to stick around this dead blog #thank you <3