#samuel 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]

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

[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

[kiwixlime]

Right Here, Right Now

U is for Uncle

A big change is coming to you and Sam. Hopefully he’s ready…

Pairing: Samuel Drake x Female Reader

Warnings: This is just some much needed fluff.

The cold tile of the bathroom floor is the only sensation keeping you grounded, letting you know you’re still alive and breathing. Shock paralyzes you, rendering you glued to the floor with your back pressed against the cabinet of the sink. In your hand is your future, and you don’t know what to do. 

“Babe!” Sam calls from the other side of the bathroom door, obviously concerned that you’ve been in there for ten minutes now. “Are you okay? You’ve been in there forever… If you’re sick, we can cancel. Nate and Elena will understand.” 

His voice holds concern, and you know that you should answer him before he decides to break down the door. But you can’t. You literally can’t think. Every part of you is frozen as your eyes bore into the stupid fucking stick in your hand. The stupid fucking stick with two pink lines glaring right at you. 

“Baby, you’re really starting to freak me out,” he laughs, but you can hear the tension behind it. He’s worried about you. “Hey, please answer me. You’re alive, right?” 

Your mouth falls open, but all that manages to come out is a raspy squeak. Sam’s knocking furiously at the door, and you close your eyes, squeezing the pregnancy test tightly in your palm. You feel your nails digging at your skin, another reminder that this is real. You are really here. You are pregnant. 

“Honey,” Sam laments as he jiggles the handle on the door. “Please, come out.” 

You take one last look at the test before wrapping it in tissue and throwing it into the trash can. Fuck that. With all your strength, you manage to get up on your feet, wash your hands, and look at yourself in the mirror. Your face has paled some, and your eyes look dead and cold. Sam’s going to know something is seriously wrong if you don’t attempt to freshen up. 

“I’m okay!” You finally say as you swallow the lump in your throat. You have cried enough for now. “Sorry, just… I wasn’t feeling all that well. I’m better now,” you lie, turning off the sink. You pinch your cheeks to bring some color back to them and rub at your eyes so they have a little life in them. After taking a few deep breaths, you feel it’s safe to open the door. 

Sam takes a few steps back when the door opens, and you come out, eyes barely glancing at him. He offers a smile, curiosity still eating him alive, but he doesn’t want to push you. Instead, Sam reaches a hand out, gently cupping your face and tilting your chin up. He forces eye contact, and your stomach fills with butterflies. 

“Everything good?” He whispers to which you nod, nuzzling your nose against his palm. He makes a small noise of approval and pulls you into him, hugging you tightly. Resting his chin on your head, he rubs your back in comforting circles. “Do you want to stay home?” He asks you without stopping his motions. 

“No,” you shake your head, putting on a smile. “I’ve been waiting to see Elena and…Cassie.” Your stomach flips at the mention of Sam’s niece. She’s a wonderful kid, and you love her to pieces. You know Sam does as well. But that doesn’t mean either of you is ready for one of your own. 

He can tell that something’s not quite right with you. But he knows better than to prod anymore. You’ll tell him when you’re comfortable. As long as it’s not life-threatening, as long as you aren’t in any danger, he’ll be patient. He’ll always be patient when it comes to you. 

“Okay,” he decides to accept your lies, giving your hands a comforting squeeze before letting them go. “Why don’t you finish up here and I’ll get the car started? Do you want me to grab Cassie’s present?” 

“I got it,” you say softly as you follow him out of your bedroom. “I just need some water and I’ll be good to go.” You grab the neatly wrapped gift from the countertop, tucking it safely under your arm as you head to the sink to grab some water. 

The cool liquid feels refreshing as you sip it down, rehydrating yourself from all the crying and, well, vomiting. Fuck, how could this have happened? You and Sam are always careful, right? Maybe not always. There was that time after he got back from a trip with Sully. Neither of you could wait. So you jumped his bones in the car. 

The more you think about it, the timing adds up. God damn your hormones. God damn Sam for being so addicting. Whenever you’re far away from him for too long, it’s like you go through withdrawals, and you’ll do anything to get your next fix. Even fucking him as soon as he gets off the damn plan. 

As you set the glass down, you chance looking over at him. You love him so much. And you’ve talked about your future together. You know he wants to be with you forever. He’s told you numerous times. But you’ve never talked about kids. 

You see the way he is with Cassie, and it warms your heart. He adores that little girl, and he’s so good with her. But it’s different when they’re not your own. He doesn’t have to provide for Cassie, take care of her, or raise her. They can have their fun uncle/niece time where he talks about his time in prison and takes her on small adventures with Sully. And at the end of the day, he can send her home to her parents and come back to your empty, childless apartment. 

But Sam isn’t the only one in this relationship. Your feelings matter, too. This is a huge decision for both of you. And as you look at him, you wonder if this will be the end of you and him. 

“Hey,” he calls out, bringing you back to Earth once more. “Are you sure everything is alright?” 

“Yes,” you say quickly, masking your nerves with a smile. “Let’s go. We’re already late!” 

Rather than ask again, Sam nods and exits the apartment, you following after him. As he locks the door, you bite your lip and think about all the adjustments you’d have to make. Would you move into a house? Would you stay in this apartment? Will you even be together? Will you even have this kid? 

“Oh, no way!” Cassie yells as she unwraps the gift you and Sam picked up for her on your latest travels. It’s a hardcover all-weather journal with sewn-in pages and a set of all-weather pens. The cover is decorated in ocean blue and a toucan engraved in the corner with a personalized inscription on the first page. You and Sam were in the Amazon on an excavation when you were told about a local shop that creates custom-made journals and notebooks. Sam knew Cassie took after Nathan and loved to document everything she could while on an escapade. He thought it would be perfect for her. 

“You like it?” Sam asks with excitement. “This one picked the color,” he says, looking at you. 

“It’s perfect!” Cassie exclaims and jumps up to hug Sam and then you. 

With your hormones out of whack, you nearly cry at her embrace. Her arms enclose around you with such love and warmth, you can only imagine if you had a daughter. A daughter who was like you, strong and resilient, but with a secret soft side. 

Sam watches you two with a smile, and then you think, what if you had a son? A son who took after his father. A son who was so annoying and so stubborn, but so full of love and compassion. 

What if you had a child who was the perfect combination of Sam and you? Would you want that? Would Sam? 

“I, uh,” you clear your throat and remove Cassie’s arms from around you, regretfully. She doesn’t mind, running back to pick up her journal to show her parents. Sam gives you a questionable look, but you brush him off. “Let’s go see if they need help,” you say flatly. 

Before Sam can stop you, you’re out of sight, heading towards the back door to check on Elena and Nate. His heart sinks a little, worried that you have something on your mind that you’re not sharing with him. You’re never like this. You and he talk about everything. You don’t have secrets. 

It bothers him deeply, but now is not the time or place to have a discussion about your silence. So he follows you outside, smiling as Elena walks over to you, taking his spot next to Nathan. He grabs a beer and cracks it open, leaning against the railing of the porch. 

He quickly downs half of the bottle causing Nathan to cock his head in amusement. “What the hell is on your mind?” Nathan asks, hiding his laughter. 

Sam wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes never leaving you. You look sad, scared even, and he hates it. He hates not knowing what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. 

“Just thinkin’,” Sam says before taking another swig. “It’s good to see Cassie,” he states with a nod at the girl who is already writing something down in her journal. “She’s getting big.” 

“Yeah,” Nathan grins with pride. “She’s so smart, Sam. She amazes me every single day. Like, I can’t believe I’m a dad. I can’t believe that’s my kid, you know? I mean, she and Elena always gang up on me, but I wouldn't have it any other way." 

Sam grins listening to Nathan gush about his family. To be honest, Sam always thought about having kids, but it was a distant reflection, one tucked in the very back corners of his mind. It wasn’t until Nathan and Elena settled down that it became more prevalent. And then he met you. And he knew from the moment he first kissed you that he loved you and he wanted to spend forever with you. 

But kids… That was such a sensitive topic, especially in the line of work both of you are in. Perhaps it’s something you should have discussed before getting serious. 

“I’m proud of you Nathan,” Sam says, clinking his bottle against his brother’s. “You’ve grown to be quite the impressive man,” he adds. “Though, I’m still the hotter brother.” 

Nathan laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.” He looks at you and then back at Sam. “I know you’re still growing up,” he says, earning a smack to the back of the head from his brother. “Hey, ouch,” Nathan grunts. “I’m just saying! You lost a lot of time and I know you’re still catching up, but you’re not doing so bad for yourself. I guess I’m proud of you, too.” 

Sam smirks, accepting the compliment. Why would he reject such nice sentiments? He’s not stupid. 

“So, what’s next for you two?” Nathan quizzes, curious to hear about your next expedition. “Big plans with Sully? I hear he’s looking for a big score overseas. I’m sure you guys will tag along, right? You’re still chasing those risky enterprises, aren’t you?” 

“Hmm,” Sam hums, trying to process his brother’s words, but he can’t keep his eyes off you. The smile is back on your face, and every once in a while, you glance over at him, a twinkle in your eye. God, you’re so beautiful. And he’s so relieved to see you somewhat back to normal. Whatever you and Elena talked about must’ve really helped. 

“Hey!” Nathan nudges his brother. “Are you even listening to me?” 

“What?” Sam asks though he’s hardly invested in the conversation. He’s too busy watching you and Cassie bond. Something about the scene sends his heart into overdrive. Suddenly visions of you and him traveling the world blur into visions of a family, something like what Nathan and Elena have. 

He shakes his head, sending those thoughts away. Ignoring Nathan, he walks to where you sit at the picnic table. Cassie went to play with the dog, and Elena went inside to grab drinks. So he finally gets you alone. 

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “You look like you’re feeling better?” 

You nod and lean into him. “I am. Much better. Thank you. And I’m sorry if I scared you,” you frown, snuggling against him. “I didn’t mean to.” 

“Don’t worry about it, princess,” he says. “I’m just glad you’re okay.” He kisses the top of your head and lets his eyes drift to Cassie once more. His heart lurches in his chest as a thought crosses his mind. This probably isn’t the best time to bring something like this up, but he has to say it, get it out, and know your thoughts. 

“Sam?” You whisper, noticing the change in his posture. 

“I want one,” Sam blurts out. 

You blink a few times, wondering if you missed a piece of the conversation somehow. “What?” 

“Cassie,” he says, exhaling deeply. “I want one.” 

Okay, you think. Best not to jump to conclusions. Sam could mean anything by saying that. Caught off guard, you shift in your seat and think over your next words carefully. “Like, you want to kidnap your niece or --” 

“A kid,” he finishes for you. “I want a kid.” 

Eyes widening, you can feel your heart race. He’s joking, right? He has to be. Life just doesn’t work out this way! Does it? 

“Are you serious?” You ask in a whisper, hands shaking as you grab the fabric of your dress. 

He nods, turning to look at you, worried by the glassiness of your eyes. “Y-yeah,” he stutters. Oh, no. Did he fuck this up? “I-I want one. With you.” 

Tears begin to fall from your eyes, and Sam panics, thinking he said the wrong thing. His face falls as he grabs your cheeks in his hands. You shake your head, smiling through your cries to let Sam know he didn’t do anything wrong. The fear fades from his eyes, but he looks confused, dying to know what’s going on in your head. 

“Well, babe,” you sniffle. “I have some news for you.”

Masterlist

Sam Drake Taglist: @julesclues - @tiredbeebo - @bluewingedangel

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

[mrshesh]

sam drake anon... where are you? come out of hiding... i'm begging...

update: NVM THEY'RE HERE AHAHAHAHHA HI POOKIEEEE! lord... the request you sent is making me kick my feet. i can't WAAAIITTT ugh i'm so happy you're here.

#where are you #pookie...? #come back... i need you #c'mon anon #i know you can do it #sam drake #samuel drake x reader #sam drake x reader #uncharted #uncharted 4 #uncharted a thief's end #mrs hesh rambles

[sxzntougiyuu]

THE UNHONEYMOONERS — SAM DRAKE X FEM! READER

i. CHAPTER ONE: The Calm Before The Storm

• AUTHOR's NOTE — So, this is my first time writing something from Uncharted and my second time posting here. English is not my first language, so there may be some mistakes. This story is an adaptation of the book "The Unhoneymooners" by Christina Lauren, so it has certain inspirations, lines and events from the book. I've done my best to make it fit into the Uncharted universe, so there may be certain changes to better fit the reader. I hope you like it and that you understand that this is just something I'm doing to relax! All rights to the original author of the work.

• SUMMARY — When your best friend Elena and her husband Nathan's vow renewal attempt goes awry, you're forced to go on their free honeymoon. The only downside is: you don't go into these 10 days of bliss alone. Sam Drake, Nathan's brother and the person you hate the most, also goes along. Agreeing to a temporary truce, the two of you assume the roles of newlyweds, convincing yourself that it's all solely for the incredible trip to Maui. But as time goes on, you realize you might be wrong about some things and faking it with Sam Drake might not be all that bad.

• WARNINGS / GENRE — Romance, Slow Burn, Smut. So much cliché and some profanity. Not recommended for minors.

• WORD COUNT — 2,4k

When Elena called you saying she got a wedding for free, you laughed. At first you thought it was a joke, that Elena was just teasing you, but if meeting Elena Fisher for years has had any benefit in your life, it's knowing exactly when she was joking and when she was serious.

And this was one of the moments when she wasn't making a joke.

If there was one thing about El that you knew well too, it was her addiction to pageants, especially during college. Elena managed to win several, she was a very lucky person and that was not a secret. So when she told you that she won a contest that covered an entire wedding, including buffet, decor and wedding dress and even the orchestra you managed to scream what a lucky motherfucker she was.

Elena had been married before, a small ceremony for those closest to her, that included you and her father figure Victor Sullivan. Nothing grand, if you don't count on the incredible view of the island where the wedding took place. Now Elena wanted a bigger wedding, attended by at least 200 guests, something that scared you to death.

You knew Elena well, she wasn't the type of person who did things without a plan or awkwardly. Elena knew what she was doing—unlike her husband, Nathan, who was a magnet for confusion, disorder, and chaos.

In the end you didn't go against her crazy idea of ​​a second marriage and even agreed to be godmother—again. It would be something bigger, more beautiful and planned and would also serve as a great vow renewal. And the very people who organized the contest she entered didn't seem to mind that a wedding had already taken place before.

Lucky motherfucker, you thought again.

However, while in the bride's suite with Chloe Frazer, trying to help Elena get ready. You were rethinking your choice to accept this opportunity to be your best friend's godmother again.

Looking at the olive green dress she had to wear, her face of disgust and amazement was obvious. Everything wrong with the world was right in front of her, right there in that exact bridesmaid dress. You were kicking yourself for not deciding to take a look at the dress sooner.

"Elena". Opening the bathroom door, horrified by what you've just seen in the small bathroom mirror after wearing that thing, you take a few steps into the bride's suite. Maybe it's just the light, you think.

"Y/N," she answers back.

"I look like a giant 7UP can."

"Yes girl!" Chloe sings. "Maybe someone will finally open this thing."

Elena nudges Chloe, scolding her.

"Did you really choose this dress?" you say, pointing to the abundance of cleavage. "Was that intentional?"

"Well, no." She laughs nervously. "I think the seamstress got the measurements wrong. God, I'm sorry, Y/N."

You want to cry, but crying will make Elena cry, and you don't want to ruin her second big day. So you try to pull yourself together and accept that you're going to go to the wedding looking like Kermit the frog.

Honestly, a part of you already expected this.

While Elena was a magnet for good luck, you were a magnet for bad luck. Since before college, you've always been an unlucky person. Even managing to be worse than Nathan. You knew that if you were a treasure hunter like him, you'd end up not only finding no treasure, but getting killed in the process, so unlucky was she.

Elena always told you not to think that way, that you should be more positive, but that almost never happened. Because you were more withdrawn for how much of it, you ended up letting the blonde drag you around and convince you to do things you didn't have the courage to do alone. Elena was his four-leaf clover, to be more blunt.

It was a shame her luck hadn't worked on the dress.

You turn around to see it from another angle and - my God, it looks even worse from behind. It doesn't help that a few weeks of stress have caused, shall we say... a little more bulk in the boobs and hips. Losing your job recently has brought you so much headache. "Put me in the background of every photo and I could be your green screen."

Chloe appears behind you as you're looking at yourself in the mirror, well dressed in your own green dress. The green was over the top, but given the right measures, it would definitely look better, just like it did on Chloe. Maybe it was the contrast with her skin. “You look hot in him. Trust me."

"I'm really sorry, Y/N." Elena continues, you know she's close to falling apart. You didn't want to make her feel bad on her free wedding day.

"It's okay, El." You smile forced. "I'm just not used to so much cleavage and so much green, I'll get used to it."

Elena doesn't buy talk about her, she also knows you well. But before El could say anything else, the door abruptly opens and Elena's mother walks in.

With her hand on her chest, Elena says, "By God, Mom. You scared us."

Mrs Fisher carries a glass of champagne in her hand and looks stunning even in her bathrobe. You'd easily trade the green dress for her robe.

"Sorry, honey." The older woman laughed. "I just came to check on you and see how my little girl will look so pretty in her wedding dress…again."

Elena isn't dressed yet because, thanks to Chloe, she's decided to paint her fingernails and toenails a lighter pink. The dress is hanging in a corner, far away from you and all your bad luck. But Elena is really very beautiful. The bun and the hair ornaments, the well-done makeup, she looks like a princess even without the white dress.

As Mrs Fisher hugged her daughter and they began an emotional conversation, you took the moment to sneak out before Elena remembered the dress argument and it all started again.

You were close to leaving, took advantage and got your to-do list. Oh yeah, Elena made a to-do list for all the bridesmaids. Which consisted of you, Chloe, and Elena's two other cousins. You've accepted more things to do just so you don't overwhelm Elena.

When you open the door, you come face to face with Nadine Ross. She's a little taller and bulkier than you are, which scares you a little. You know she has a past and Elena already told you about the disagreements Nate had with her, but now the two of them seemed to be on calmer waters.

Nadine watched you for a moment, scanning the dress from top to bottom.

"I know," you say, giving up and stepping back a little so she can get inside. "It's a little-"

"Tight?" She guesses.

"No-"

"Brillant?" you look at her. "No."

"Wanton?"

"I was going to say green."

She shrugs. "That works too."

You huff, not interested in keeping the argument going any longer.

"Make yourself comfortable, Nadine." Throwing open the door for her to walk through, you step completely out of the way.

"Don't be in such a bad mood, it could be worse"

"Worse than that?" Pointing at yourself, you proceed. "I find it difficult."

"Look on the bright side, no one will notice your face or your makeup if you end up smudging it." She says. "The dress is attracting all the attention."

"Where's that on the bright side?" You question, but she's already gone, entering the bride's suite and slamming the door in her face.

After rolling your eyes, you hold the skirt of the catastrophic dress in your hands and start walking through the hotel corridors. You already know what the next item on your list is, you need to go check if Nathan ordered the separate chicken buffet for those who don't eat seafood, a short list that consisted of you, an aunt and Elena's cousin who were allergic and her annoying brother-in-law, Samuel Drake.

It was universally known that you and Sam didn't get along very well. Ever since the Fourth of July you spent at the Drakes' house and had the misfortune of meeting him, things between the two of you have been sour to say the least. That's why you did your best to avoid and ignore Sam, his bland jokes and his flirtatious ways. Elena said you just needed to get to know Sam better, that he wasn't that bad, but his mind was already made up from that day. He also didn't make much of an effort to undo the situation, in fact it just intensified the heartbreak you felt.

Sam liked to tease you, make a vein pop out of your forehead, and you just didn't want to give him that pleasure, so you avoided him as much as possible. Obviously you couldn't avoid him forever, much less your best friend's vow renewal. Unfortunately you would have to walk him into the church - something you were reluctantly forced to agree to.

He only accepted because he was under no obligation to speak to him. The two of you would just walk in together, listen to the ceremony and then leave, each heading to your own corners and just getting together again for some photos. You convinced yourself it would be quick, easy, and painless, so it got better to accept over time. And, again, you always went out of your way to please Elena. I just couldn't let her go.

Upon arriving at the door of the groom's suite, you prayed to heaven that Nate or Victor or Charlie would answer the door. Any of the three except Sam. Taking ten deep breaths to delay the inevitable, you finally knock on the wood and then back up a few steps, waiting for someone to open the door.

It takes about 2 minutes for someone to finally show up to open the door, you're close to knocking again when that happens.

Luckily for you, Victor is the person you face.

"Hey Sully" You say, with more relief in your voice than you'd like to admit.

"Hey honey" He says, cracking a smile. It doesn't look you up and down like you'd expect, which also brings more relief to your form. "What brings you here?"

"I need to talk to Nathan about the buffet."

"Oh, right. I'll call the boy." Sullivan answers. "By the way, honey. You look beautiful"

Sully is always nice to you, unlike your business partner. You like how he acts, how respectful he is, even though he's also an old flirt when he wants to. Words make you smile, but they don't convince you much. They are not meant to make you satisfied with your current appearance.

"Thanks, Sully." You say, smiling. "You also look very elegant, that suit made you about 10 years younger."

he laughs.

"It's really good to hear that." He says. "I'll call Nate."

You nod your head as Sully disappears behind the suite's door. He leaves it ajar just out of politeness, you think.

Seconds later, Nate appears. He's already in a suit, but his tie is still undone around his collar. He also looks a little agitated, nervous. You imagine that marriage is turning you upside down too. Nate doesn't want to screw it up.

“Hi, Y/N. Need anything?” Nate asks, opening the door wider. You can see Charlie inside the room, Sully helps him put on his tie. Sam isn't around.

"Hi Nate. Yes, I do." You answer it. "I need to know if you've checked that everything is all right with the buffet set aside for me, your brother and Elena's relatives."

"I think so"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I don't remember if I spoke to them." He confesses, a little uncertain. "But it must be all right"

"Really, Nathan?" you ask, frustrated. "You know how methodical Elena is with these things. You needed to make sure everything was right. "

"Look, I had a lot of things to do. I think I did, but I don't remember." He tries to explain himself. "You can take the opportunity and go to the kitchen to check for me. Sam is there too. You'll have to talk to him anyway."

You blink a few times, pondering what he said.

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"Well, you have to talk to him, don't you?" The neutrality in his tone of voice scares you a little.

"...Only at the time of the ceremony, right?"

Nate smirks and scratches the back of his head. He seems to know something you don't already.

"Right?"

"Eh, no. You also have to talk to him about the discourse." Nate explained, a little awkwardly. "Elena said she'd talk to you and put it on your list. Didn't she do it?"

Panic seizes your senses.

You take the list you have at hand and unfold it. You read it from beginning to end, stopping at the last item that is written in red pen. He's new, he wasn't there before. Elena must have written it while you were putting on the dress, and since you have a habit of recording things in your head, she didn't even bother to read it again.

That is for sure the worst task of all and you end up forcing yourself to read it aloud. "Ask Sam to show you his best man speech. Don't let him say something terrible. :) "

The smiley face at the end just makes you more hateful and you refrain from screaming, you are content to curse her and curse her entire generation mentally.

What the hell, Elena. You pay me! You think, before you crumple the paper in anger.

Final Notes: so the first chapter is here!... and I don't much to talk about it. I just hope you guys enjoyed it and that you contact me if you wish to be tagged!

#sam drake x reader #nathan drake #elena fisher #samuel drake x reader #uncharted #sam Drake #victor sullivan #chloe frazer #nadine ross

[rinkaywie]

Samuel Drake x Gn!Reader

Warning: Angst

An: Another shitty one-shot:) I really don't know what to name this fic so.... I'm sorry. Also im so sorry for my mistakes

——————————

You had a heated argument with your boyfriend, Sam. How could he think that you would cheat on him? You would never.

"I wish i never fucking met you!" He yelled.

What...?

"That is it. I am leaving." You said with a bitter voice. You grabbed your car keys and grabbed on the door knob.

"Leaving again, huh? Just like you always do." He scoffed. You quickly swung the door open and slammed it shut.

—————

Tears fell from your cheeks as you gripped on the steering wheel, hard. Finally, making your way to your house, you quickly ran up to your old room, half of your stuff were gone because they were at Sam's house.

—————

You wanted to feel his touch again. You couldn't sleep without him. You hesitated... "Fuck it..." You whispered to yourself before making your way to your car and apologise to Sam. It's been hours since the argument, you really missed him. But you didn't know if you were making the right choice.

—————

Your knuckles hit the door of your shared home with Sam. After a few seconds, the door swung opened. It was a girl. She was only wearing her underwear and... Sam's shirt.

"Do you need anything?" She asked. You noticed some hickeys around her neck... Like, lots of them.

You froze.

"Oh, uh... Sorry i must've went onto the wrong house." You said, trying your best to stop the tears from falling. "I'm so sorry for bothering."

She smiled. "It's fine."

You smiled back before going back to your car.

—————

"It's early in the morn-."

"Nathan!" You quickly pulled him into an embrace and sobbed on his shoulder.

"Wha... What happened?"

"It's Sam. He..."

"Is he hurt?!"

"No..! W-we had an argument... When i came back to our house, i... I saw a girl. She and Sam..." You sobbed.

"Hey... It's okay." He tried to reassure you.

"No. It's not." His arms wrapped around you tightly.

Not my gif!!

#samuel drake #sam drake #uncharted sam #uncharted samuel drake #nathan drake #nate drake #uncharted nathan drake #uncharted nate #uncharted #samuel drake x reader

[bicycle4two]

uncharted 4 fanfic masterlist

Pairing: Sam Drake x Reader

multi-chapter

say you wanna, say you wanna be 

CHAPTERS 1 || 2 || 3 || 4…(to be continued)

Read on AO3

#uncharted #Uncharted 4 #uncharted fanfiction #sam drake #Samuel Drake #sam drake x reader #samuel drake x reader #sam drake fanfiction #sam drake x you #samuel drake x you #post uncharted 4

[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

[love-fictional-men]

I have an idea 👀

#joel miller #samuel drake #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #samuel drake x reader

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Day 9:“Carmel apples, leaves falling down. What could better than November?” “I don’t know maybe fucking June?”

Fandom:Uncharted

Character: Samuel 'Sam' Drake

Naughty or Nice:

If it was one thing that Sam said he hated it would be that he hated winter or anything that had to do with being cold but you? Oh no! You loved the winter! You seemed to thrive being cold.

Pulling his jacket tighter to his body, Sam cleared out his throat. You looked so happy, so cute, he couldn't deny how infectious you were. Sighing, he stepped closer to you grasping your hand then tugged you to be by his side.

Smiling, you rested your head on his should, despite how much he complained about hating Winter he was awfully warm “Carmel apples, leaves falling down. What could better than November?”

Scowling for a moment, Sam gave your hips a squeeze though despite the scowl he had on his face you can see the twinkle of happiness in his eyes.

“I don’t know maybe fucking June?” Sam rolled his eyes as he placed a kiss to the side of your head.

Scoffing, you reached up to give his cheek a playful pinch. "You're only saying that because you don't get to see me half naked on a beach."

Grumbling under his breath, Sam knew you were right but he wasn't about to admit it. "Whatever, lets just find some place warm so I'm not freezing my ass off."

Laughing, you shook your head as your gaze roamed to look at all the trees. The sight was honestly breath taking. "Sure, sure. You big baby."

#drabbles #drabble #tis the season #sam drake #sam drake x reader #sam drake x you #samuel drake #samuel drake x reader #uncharted #uncharted x reader #uncharted x you

[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

[xxxsaturnxx]

Morning

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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

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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.

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