#sam drake smut

[sideeve]

men who for some reason love to see the sight of you withering in pleasure. crying for that sweet release you are oh so desperately chasing. but the attempt is futile without him. you need him. you’ll crack without the attention required.

his favorite sight is to see your bottom in the air as your face is pressed against the pillow, drool slipping from the side of your lips, tears soaked into the fabric. your arms are tied behind you as you take every last drop of what he’s giving you. mumbling something about “this is gonna take”. all five senses are gone. the feeling of his cock drilling into you is pure bliss. every thing turns white in your mind as you feel white ropes of his seed full your cunt to the brim; some even spilling out.

“nuh uh, sweetheart.” he pulls himself out, using his two fingers to catch the stray droplets before pushing them back into your sensitive, abused hole, making your body jolt.

men who like to have you on your back after a long day at your job, perfectly placed between your legs as he ravishes your cunt like the dog he is. he’s been waiting to see the sight of your dewy cunt, waiting to hear your incoherent whine of you begging for him to slow down. but the pleas fall deaf on his ears. all he can hears are the lewd noise that your sl*tty c*nt makes on impact.

ignis , DANTE , vergil , sam drake , joe goldberg , JOEL MILLER , aki hayakawa , KISHIBE , SUKUNA , GETO , nanami , toji , leon kennedy , JASON TODD , JOHN WICK , JOHN CONSTANTINE , wolverine , plus your favs !!

guidelines to request .

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

Sam Drake: Aftercare

I am a sucker for the aftercare of battle trope. I am also in love with Sam Drake from Uncharted 4 again. 18+ because smut. i also have written this after a few alcoholic drinks so plz don't judge me too much.

You sat Sam at the edge of the bathtub of your motel, it would be easier to clean him this way, making sure the blood from his wounds would not stain the floor. You knelt between his legs in the bath, taking great care to clean his injuries properly, his arm would twitch occasionally and try and bat you away, but you resisted. “No Sam, I need to make sure your wounds are clean” Your voice was soft and reassuring, you did not want him to tend to himself, you saw how he tended to his own wounds, dousing them in alcohol and wrapping them up, it was not sanitary.

It had been a hard day for you both, Sam had bore the brunt of the injuries, ones you were now attending. You heard his hisses and gasps as you cleaned his wounds, you knew it was not pleasant, but you wanted to make sure he would not have an infection. After cleaning the final cut on his chest, you lifted yourself from the bath, making your way over to the counter nearby to dispose of your used items.

“These will leave scars won’t they?” Sams voice was quiet, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted an answer to that question. You lifted your head and smiled softly at him “Women love men with scars, it makes them look mysterious” You winked at him to try and make Sam feel better, it worked somewhat as he smiled at you watching you dispose of the used medical equipment.

Sam’s eyes were upon you, his eyebrows manoeuvred into a cocky position. “Mysterious? I like the sound of that” Sam spoke as he lifted himself out of the bath, perching himself on the edge of it so he can watch you. “I don’t think I need mysterious though, I have women fawning over me anyway” Sam winked at you, you could see it caused him pain to do so, he was so stubborn and would never admit a fault or being in pain.

You rolled your eyes at the arrogant man, chuckling to yourself as you walked out of the bathroom, you knew Sam would recover just fine, you wouldn’t have left him otherwise, he was a big boy and could make his own way out of the bathroom. You found yourself in the main area of the rented room, only a king size bed lay before you, you were sure that you told the reception that you wanted 2 singles, it was now too late to rectify, the hotel was sold out for the night, and you did not have infinite money.

“Does someone need a cuddle?” You heard a sarcastic voice emanate from behind you. Sam walked past you and took a seat at the edge of the bed with a wicked grin on his face, realising the situation for himself. “Sharing the bed with you is a dream come true darling” His smirk was captivating, it caused you to smile and shake your head, you had gone this far resisting his charms, surely you could go one more night.

“As generous as that is Sam, I think I’ll stay on the sofa. Besides, you look like a quilt thief to me” Your voice was low and sultry, you did not mean it to be so, but Sam brought out the flirtatious side of you, you could not control it.

“Me? A quilt thief? I am offended! I will have you know that I am a saint in bed. No cover stealing, no snoring, just me, laid in my glorious perfection like an angel.” Sam’s voice was cocky and playful as he laid back on the bed, trying to entice you in, your eyes glossed over his shirtless body, eyes raking over his abs, wondering how they felt, watching his lips and wanting to know how they taste. You shook those thoughts from your head before Sam could notice you daydreaming.

“There are many words I could use to describe you Sam, an Angel is not one of them” A chuckle left your lips as you retrieved your beers from the hotel room fridge, it had been a long day, and you were deserving of one. You cracked one open for yourself and one for Sam, walking over to the edge of the bed you sat down and held the drink out to him.

Sam watched you intently as you sat down and took the drink from you. “You say I’m no Angel Y/N, the devil was an Angel at first” Sam’s eyebrows wiggled as he moved towards you on the bed, aiming to sit beside you.

“That’s true, until his ceremonious fall from grace” You retorted and took a long drink of your beer, leaning back on your hands on the bed, your eyebrows wiggling, enjoying the banter between you both, there was a sexual tension between the both of you that had not been noticed by Sam, you wanted to see how far you could push him.

Sam chuckled to himself, he shuffled slightly on the bed, making a little more room for you “And what a glorious fall it was” His voice was a mix of amusement and allure, he ran a hand through his hair, smoothing the tangles as much as he could as he awaited your presence next to him. “Do you know what else they say about the devil Y/N?” His voice was low and sultry, you had heard this tone before when he had charmed other women, it was just as effective on you.

“And what else do they say about the devil, Sam?” You rolled your eyes playfully at him, he was ever the flirt, and you expected a stupid response.

“They say the devil is charming, seductive, able to lure you into his trap with just a sinful look.” Sam moved closer to you as he spoke, his breath hot upon your neck, feeling the roughness of his stubble against your skin. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt him against you, Sam had never been this bold before and you were enjoying it. His lips were now exploring your neck, Sam was making sure to cover every possible bit of skin that he could. 

“And you do look ever so sinful” Your voice was breathy and desperate; you did not even mean to voice your feelings but his lips against your neck made you weak. Your comment was barely a whisper, but it made Sam smile against your neck, he had you now and he knew you wanted this as much as he did. Sam pulled you back onto the bed with him, kissing your skin with passion, you fell into it, roaming his body just as passionately as he roamed yours. The feeling of his scars under your delicate touch, you wanted to kiss each one, to make him feel looked after and loved.

Sam helped you remove your shirt with ease, throwing it to one side, his eyes leered over your bare form, it was more than he could have imagined, you were a vision, one he could not believe was here before him. You had now moved to straddle his waist, falling into the passion that was taking over you both. Sam let out a breathy moan as he felt your body on his, his hands now gripping onto your thighs for dear life, the way his fingers were gripping into your flesh was sure to leave a mark, the thought of it made you even more desperate for him, wanting him to mark you as his.

Sam’s hands roamed your body and yours roamed his, you were both hungry for each other, this tension between you both had been threatening to spill for a while. A soft push was all it took for Sam to lay back on the bed before you, you were atop him and in control, teasing him as you saw fit, kissing his neck and biting his ear, eliciting those sweet moans from his lips. His calloused hands were rough upon the soft skin of your hips as he rolled your over, you looked at him in shock as you saw him atop you, taking every inch of your body into his memory.

You laid underneath Sam, his lean body pressed against you, it was a struggle to not moan at the feeling of him against you, you had daydreamed about him atop you ever since you had met him, you had never thought it would be a reality. Sam’s lips were attacking your neck and collar bone roughly, not caring if he left any marks, you were his now anyway. As the assault on your skin carried on you felt his hands roam down your body, one hand moving to the one area you were desperate to feel him. One hand finally found its way to your core, his fingers rubbing against your throbbing clit, causing you to tremble and moan underneath him.

Sam’s face was buried in the crook of your neck, revelling in the sounds of your moans, trying hard not to rub against your leg beneath him, craving relief. As you were nearing your climax, Sam removed his hand from your core, the whimper that escaped your lips was like music to his ears, knowing he could elicit such a reaction from you was mind blowing to him. Your breath was ragged, you were desperate and craved relief from him now, kissing him with passion and pulling him towards you.

Sam enjoyed the attention you were giving him, the affection and desperation for his touch was like a melody to him. He had wanted you as much as you now wanted him, he was more than happy to acquiesce to your desires. You were beneath him, desperate for him, Sam swiped his girthy length between your wet slick folds, revelling in the sounds of your moans before he pressed himself into you. It was a shock at first, you felt your body stretch around him, you loved the pain of it, getting used to it with every thrust.

Your bodies were now entwined with each other, a sweaty mess of euphoria, Sam had given a few more thrusts before you both climaxed, you were both breathless as you felt the ecstasy rush through your body. Laid in bed together you were silent, feeling the afterglow of your intimate encounter.

You laid with your head on Sam’s chest affectionately. “Work isn’t going to be weird is it?” You asked jokingly, releasing the tension in the air. Sam stroked your hair softly, taking time to kiss the top of your head. “It will only be weird if you want it to be sweetheart.”

[gogogodzilla]

✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟚𝟞: 𝐵𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑟 ✧ 

【 𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑛 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼'𝑚 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑀𝑎𝑛 】

╰› 〖 𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠 〗: Your parents told you to never accept rides from strangers, but what if that stranger is hot and twice your age?

╰› 〖 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 〗: nsfw 18+, older!Sam, fingering, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, pull-out method, there's only one bed, slight dirty talk, sam calls reader 'princess'

✧ 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑡𝑜𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑚.𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ✧ 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑜3 ✧ 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑝𝑎𝑑 ✧

You hear him before you see him. The loud rumble of his engine vibrates the air around you, ripping you out of your thoughts. Your hand falls to your side as you watch the motorcycle roll to a stop beside you. You instinctively take a step back, eyeing the man on the bike. His rough-around-the-edges look matches the worn leather jacket and confident smirk he wore. 

“Need a ride, princess?” he calls over the hum of the engine. 

Your gaze shifts between the man in front of you and the motorcycle between his thighs. The dark clouds looming overhead appear more ominous by the second and you weigh your options.

He’s older than you with stubble littering his cheeks and neck. The tell-tale ink of a tattoo peeks out of the collar of his jacket, and you find yourself craning your neck to figure out what it is. 

“C’mon, I won’t bite,” he urges, a grin tugging at his lips, “unless that’s your thing.” 

Your eyes narrow, “That’s not very reassuring.” 

“Sam,” he introduces himself, chuckling a little as he holds out a hand for you to take. 

His palm is warm but calloused in your hand as you shake it briefly. His fingers completely envelop your hand, and you use the opportunity to take a closer look at him. His nose is crooked like it’s been broken more times than he could count, and tufts of brown hair stuck out from under his helmet. 

Something about him is magnetic, and you find yourself climbing onto the back of his bike, your fingertips slightly digging into the firm muscles of his shoulders.

Rain begins to fall as he pulls away from the spot where you stood just moments ago, and you let out a yelp as he revs his engine, rapidly picking up speed. You wrap your arms around his waist, and the taunt muscles of his abdomen jump under your fingers. 

The rain quickly shifts from a light drizzle to a downpour, and you lean against Sam, soaking up his warmth. He finally spotted a roadside motel, the neon vacancy sign barely visible through the rain. He pulls into the parking lot, killing the engine before the both of you dismount. You make a beeline for the front office, desperate to get out of the rain. 

Sam is quick to follow you, clutching a bag in one hand and his helmet in the other. He shakes out his hair as he joins you at the front desk. 

“What do you mean you only have one room?” you question the clerk incredulously, shivering in your rain-soaked clothes. 

The clerk shrugs, “It’s the busy season.” 

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” you argue.

“We’ll take it,” Sam cuts in, giving the clerk a placating grin. 

You narrow your eyes as the clerk drops the key into your open palm. You clench your fist around the metal as you lead Sam up the creaky steps to a small room facing the rain-streaked road. 

“Well,” Sam says as he enters the room, tossing his bag onto one of the chairs and tugging off his jacket, “it’s not the Ritz but it’ll do.” 

You snort, attempting to ignore the way his shirt clings to his shoulders. You take in your sparsely decorated surroundings, eyeing the singular bed in the middle of the room. 

“Not exactly the night you had planned, huh?” he questioned, rifling through his bag. 

You raised a brow, “You’re not gonna murder me, right? I’ve seen Psycho, I know what happens to girls in hotels.” 

Sam chuckles, “That wasn’t on the itinerary for tonight, but I think I can squeeze you in.” 

You roll your eyes before heading toward the bathroom, eager to get out of your soaked clothes. You step into the shower, sighing as the hot water tumbles over your shoulders. Slowly, the chill inside you subsides, and you massage your muscles. 

“Keep making noises like that, and I’m gonna have to join you,” Sam calls, and your cheeks flush. 

“In your dreams!” you reply, although you can’t help but wonder what Sam’s hiding under that tight shirt of his. 

Steam billows out from the bathroom door as you exit, and spare water droplets roll down your legs as you throw your bag on the chair next to Sam’s. He leans against the headboard, relaxed as he flips through the channels on the TV. 

You perch on the edge of the bed opposite of him, drying your hair. You turned your head to risk a glance at him over your shoulder. He catches you and he smirks. 

“What’s someone like you doing hitchhiking?” he inquires, tossing the remote onto the bedside table. 

You turn to face him, furrowing your brows, “Someone like me?” 

“Young, for one” he supplies, shrugging. “You’re not too bad on the eyes either.” 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you quip before you can catch yourself. 

He raises a brow as the corners of his mouth quirk up. 

A laugh escapes him, “Didn’t know you liked ‘em older, princess.” 

“You’re not that much older than I am,” you counter. “You’re only like, what, 50?” 

Sam clutches his chest and lets out a pained groan, wincing. He leans against the headboard, and you crawl next to him to lean against the headboard, fighting the laughter that threatened to spill. 

“Am I wrong?” you ask, throwing your hands out to the side.

“I’m 47 if you must know. Still got plenty of youth in me,” he answers, crossing his arms. 

“Mhmm,” you hum, your mouth curving into a smile as your eyes linger on his form. “Prove it.” 

His eyes widen for a moment as he meets your gaze, processing your words. You slowly lean forward, hesitating for only a moment before your lips meet his. The kiss quickly deepens as Sam gets his hands on you, and it’s not long before you’re under him and his hands are wandering over your form. 

The weight of his body presses you against the mattress, and his fingertips trail up your thighs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your breaths mingle as he pulls away to scatter kisses across the side of your neck. His tongue grazes against your pulse point, and you gasp, tangling your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Sam groans into your shoulder, the tent in his jeans brushing against your inner thigh. You slide your hands under Sam’s shirt, slowly nudging the fabric up his abdomen. His muscles twitch under your touch, and he pauses just long enough to remove the offending piece of clothing before his lips are back on yours. 

Your fingers dance across his ribs, relishing every tantalizing inch of exposed skin. He slides a hand under your sleep shorts, and his fingers brush against your clothed core. Your breath catches against his lips. A shudder runs through you as he teases you through your underwear, lightly stroking your clit. 

A soft whine escapes you as you buck your hips against his hand, desperate for his touch. His free hand reaches under your shirt and he kneads your breasts, Your nipples harden under his touch. He tugs your shirt up and over your tits, just enough for him to latch onto one of your sensitive buds. 

Sam reaches between you, tugging your sleep shorts and underwear down your legs while his tongue swirls your nipple. He runs his hands across your inner thighs before swiping a finger through your dripping folds. 

“So wet for me,” he murmurs against your chest as he collects your arousal on his fingertips. 

He circles your clit before dipping down to tease your entrance. You’re a breath away from begging him to fuck you, and he’s savoring every moment of it. 

He takes mercy upon you and sinks a finger into your core, pumping it a few times as you arch against him. A breathy whine escapes you as he adds another. You savor the way he stretches you, and your mouth practically waters as your eyes drift down to the visible tent in his jeans. 

Sam follows your gaze and grins. Heat creeps up your neck as he uses his free hand to undo the button on his jeans and tug his zipper down. He frees his cock from its confines and his breath stutters as he takes his cock in his hand. 

He languidly strokes himself as he watches your pussy swallow his fingers. He extends a thumb to rub against your clit, and the familiar heat pooled in your belly. Your walls flutter against him as he juts his fingers deeper inside you, curling a little to hit the spot that had your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Sam pants as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, filling the tiny hotel room with lewd noises. 

Your release hits you as Sam drags his thumb over your clit. Your pussy holds him in a vice grip as you arch against the bed, crying out his name. He keeps moving within you, allowing you to ride out your high on his fingers.

He situates himself between your thighs, and you let him move you wherever he wants, limbs pliant as you come down from your high. 

He rubs a soothing hand over your thigh, “Think you can give me another one?” 

You jolt against him as he slides his cock through your dripping folds. He slips the tip of his cock into your entrance, and you gasp as he stretches you. Sam reaches down to draw steady circles against your clit as he inches inside you. 

Your legs wrap around him once he’s fully seated inside you, and he grabs your wrists in his hand, pinning your arms above your head. Sam gives a tentative roll of his hips, and his breath quickens as you clench around him. Your jaw drops open to release a breathy moan as his pace increases. 

Your gaze travels down his abdomen, tracing over his pecs before trailing down and over his ribs before landing down where the two of you met. You watch as his muscles ripple with each rut of his hips, his cock hitting the deepest parts within you. 

You whine as he mercilessly pounds into you, and tears prick the corners of your eyes as you cry out his name. Your tits bounce with every drag of his cock, and you feel your thoughts growing hazy, getting lost in the feeling of him. 

Sam leans down and kisses you messily and hard, a mix of tongues and teeth clashing together. He slides his tongue across your bottom lip, and a swift thrust of his hips has you gasping against his lips. He uses the opportunity to explore your mouth with his tongue.

“Feels so good, baby. Wanna feel you cum,” he slurs against your lips. 

“I’m close,” you manage to whimper out between each rut of his cock bullying itself deeper inside you. The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin mixed with the squelching of your sopping cunt. It’s enough to make your cheeks flush. 

Sam’s grip tightened on your hands as his pace increased. The coil within you tightens and his hips stutter against your own. Both of you nearing the edge. 

With a few more punctuated rolls of his hips, you’re coming around Sam’s cock. Your entire body spasms as your orgasm crashes into you, and you screw your eyes shut. Sam lets go of your wrists and grips your hips as he pounds into you, chasing after his high. 

He falters and quickly pulls out of you before stroking his cock once and then twice. His release coats your inner thighs as he lets out a strangled groan. You whimper and clench around nothingness at the loss of him. 

You pant, attempting to catch your breath. Sam leans back on his heels from his position between your thighs. He lets out a laugh. 

“Not so bad for an old guy, huh?”

[xxxsaturnxx]

Morning

☆.｡.:*

Pairing: Sam Drake x F!Reader

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

Warning: 18+/suggestive content, language,

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

☆.｡.:*

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[fluloa]

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

“Oh, shit.”

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

What the fuck? Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, you were definitely pregnant.

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

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

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

”Y/N.”

”Hey. Can I come o—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh— None, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Mom heard that.”

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

“So,” Elena said.

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

“You gonna tell me something?”

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

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

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

”Well—“

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

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

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

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

“… Does he know?”

“No.”

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

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

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

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

You mumble the last part under your breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s pretty. Thanks, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I tested positive.”

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

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

“On a pregnancy test.”

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

“Mhm,” you murmur.

“Oh, shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[12202005]

that last one was kinda ass gonna take my time with this next one😘

[m3ntally-unstable]

Why is it that everytime I search for a certain thing I GET THE OPPOSITE. I SEARCHED FOR ANGST NOT SMUT, I WANT ANGST. I AKSED FOR SMUT NOT FUCKING FLUFF AND SHIT 😡😡😡😡 please update your system tumblr I beg of you

[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.

[dreamy-demons]

Dinner for Two (Pizza Rolls)

Pairing : Sam Drake x female reader

Content : SMUT (18+) oral (male and female receiving), fluff, mutual praise, domestic life, no real warnings here :)

Summary: Sam helps reader relax after a job.

Word count : ~1.3k

"Oh god. Home. Finally." You groan, throwing your bags through the door and immediately dropping onto your couch. Sam follows behind and immediately b-lines to the kitchen.

"Geez, we gotta keep this better stocked." He mumbles to himself, rummaging through the freezer. "Hey, you good with pizza rolls?"

"I'd be good with literally anything right now."

"That's great, 'cause that's literally the only thing in here." Sam grabs a bunch of pizza rolls and throws them onto a tray.

Watching him from the kitchen, you take in all the bruises and bandages. Another job with Samuel Drake survived. Barely.

After putting the rolls in the oven, Sam comes back to join you on the sofa, where you had begun absentmindedly flicking through the channels. He puts his arm around your shoulder and you groan.

"This job really fucking hurt."

"I know, I'm sorry baby. Wanna sit the next one out?" He sounds sincere, but you know he's teasing you.

"Uh absolutely not Sam. If I'm not there, who else is going to save your ass?"

"Hey! I'm perfectly capable of saving my own ass princess!" You roll your eyes at him.

Sam manoeuvres you so that your back is to him and starts to massage your shoulders. You had been so tense the entire week, and finally getting to relax your muscles made you feel so much better already. 

"Yeah, and maybe next time we actually make some money? Not lose the treasure when it's right within reach?" You laugh.

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck and you feel him smiling against you.

“You know, there is one thing I can do to make it up to you.”

“Mhmm?” 

He slides off the couch and comes to his knees in front of you. His hands reach up to your waistband, and you happily lift your hips and let him pull off your pants and underwear. He’s wearing that fucking white vest and you can't help being entranced by his toned arms as he pulls your knees open.

He settles down and takes a moment to just look at you. You can already feel yourself getting wet. He dips his finger into you briefly and then licks it clean, savouring your taste. A grin spreads across his face.

"Fuck you taste so good. God, I can't wait to get you moaning for me." 

The sight of Sam between your thighs, looking up at you with those warm eyes and that goddamned smirk, is enough to already have your heart racing in anticipation. He's so close that you can feel his breath on you. He takes one long lick up the length of your pussy. Sighing, you lay your head back, content.

He explores you with his tongue, sucking and nipping at your folds. Usually he would do this for a long time, purposefully ignoring your clit, teasing you until you were begging for him to just touch you already. But this time he was nice, and soon his hot mouth enveloped your bud. The feeling instantly sends a shiver through your whole body.

"Oh fuck, Sam…" While he works at your clit, you bring your hand down to play with his hair. Sam hums in approval. His teeth graze you making you gasp, and your grip on his hair tightens. You pull him closer into you and he quickens his pace making you gasp above him. He lets you hold him there for a while before he pulls back.

"Take it easy, Sweetheart. You trying to suffocate me down here?" He chuckles, lowering his head back down. "I mean I wouldn't mind all that much…" 

Feeling a desperate ache to have something inside you, you yank his head back up, cutting him off. 

"Sam, wait."

His lips are slick as he looks at you inquisitively. 

"God, Sam. I - I need more." 

Grinning, he begins light circles on your clit with his thumb.

"More of what, baby?"

You struggle to get out more than small noises of pleasure.

"You're being so good for me sweetheart. Use your words, tell me what you need." He squeezes your thigh. The intensity of his stare alone, with his pupils blown out darkening his eyes, is almost enough to send you over the edge.

"Your fingers. I need, oh fuck, I need your fingers inside me. Right now, please, Sam."

He wastes no time, two of his fingers slip into you, curling to massage your sweet spot while his thumb still strums your clit. You curse loudly at the feeling and your legs instinctively try to close. Sam pushes one of your thighs back down with his free arm and pins it to the sofa. His mouth is soon back on you, tonguing you at a fast pace.

"Harder, Sam. I'm so close!" You groan. 

He moans into you, and suddenly he's fucking his fingers into you so hard you can't help the incoherent pleas falling from your lips. You feel your entire body spasm as your orgasm washes over you. You want nothing more than to squeeze him between your thighs and keep him there forever, but his strong arm is still holding you firmly open.

Sam continues to gently work you through your orgasm until you push him back, overstimulated. He's slick with both sweat and your juices, and he looks so pleased with himself.

He raises himself over your panting body and plants a wet kiss on your mouth. You kiss him back, enjoying the taste of yourself lingering on him. The kiss ends and you both look at each other for a moment, bringing your hand up to caress his cheek.

"That was great, Babe." You say.

"And…" He encourages you to say more.

"And what, Sam?"

"And do you forgive me for the job?"

You smack his chest and he laughs.

"Shut up Sam, you're ruining the moment." You grumble. 

Sam's body presses closer to yours as he snuggles into you, and you can feel his hardness against your stomach. Your hand snakes down to palm him through his jeans, and his breathing hitches.

"Let me take care of you." you whisper into his ear, feeling him shudder.

"But the pizza rolls are ready-" You can't help the giggle that escapes you. 

"Fuck the pizza rolls." 

And before he can register what's happening, you've flipped him so you're the one straddling him instead. Reaching down between the two of you, you make quick work of his jeans and pull his cock out of its confines.

You spit on your palms and languidly work his length. Sam's hips reach up to meet you with each stroke. While you stroke him, you slide off the couch to kneel between his legs, as he did for you.

The second your lips envelope his cock he hisses out a 'fuck baby' and grips your hair.

Your tongue explores the underside of his shaft and swirls on his tip at each bob of your head, while your hand alternates between stroking his length and playing with his balls. Sam's eyes never leave yours.

"You're so beautiful Baby, you have no idea what you do to me." He coos, and you moan around him. You can sense him trying to still his hips, and you slide off of him for a moment.

'It's okay, you can let go. I promise you're not hurting me." You reassure him, and as soon as your mouth is around his dick once more, he begins to buck into your mouth chasing his high. 

He lets out a mix of praises and curses as you take him as deep as you can, feeling him in the back of your throat. You feel his thighs tense as he lets out a strangled moan and spills himself inside your mouth. 

Sam watches you swallow proudly, pushing your hair out of your face. He pulls you into his arms and kisses your cheek. 

"I love you so much, you know that?" He mumbles against your skin. 

You hum in affirmation, smiling blissfully at him. "I love you too, Sam."

A sudden loud beeping shocks you both from your dreamy haze. You vaguely register the smell of smoke.

Oh fuck. 

The pizza rolls.

[polakina]

i've realised how i've basically ghosted my account for a few weeks but FEAR NOT i have returned and have so many things to post my queue is fucking ridiculous

requests are OPEN as always. i've got rdr2 fics on the way (thank u nonnie's i love u) but since getting back into my videogame era, if you have any uncharted ideas, i'm all ears hehe

[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.”

[xoluvx]

fics based on songs

🍒 smut

billie eilish

casual ; chappell roan part two 🍒

i can fix her (no really i can) ; taylor swift 🍒

guilty as sin ; taylor swift 🍒

billie bossa nova ; billie eilish 🍒

this is what makes us girls ; lana del rey 🍒

zendaya

cinnamon girl ; lana del rey

marvin's room ; drake

coffee ; miguel

watermelon sugar ; harry styles

fire & desire ; drake🍒

wish you were gay ; claud

tom holland

break up with your girlfriend ; ariana grande🍒

london boy ; taylor swift

the party & the after party ; the weeknd🍒

call out my name ; the weeknd

dancing with a stranger ; sam smith

cherry ; harry styles

come and see me ; partynextdoor🍒

peter parker

sign of the times ; harry styles

miss americana & the heartbreak prince ; taylor swift

[ashprince-of-bel-air]

Masterlist

Hi! I'm Ashl. I write bits of stuff and whatnot. My page is dedicated to all the things currently giving me brain rot so it will be an odd amalgamation of things.

I've compiled a masterlist of writings because it's just starting to get hard to keep track of things really.....

Gale Dekarious:

Reading By Firelight - Gale watches Tav during their nightly ritual of reading by the campfire, yearning for them.

Caught In The Act - Gale watches you on an evening wondering what it is that your read every night, one day he finds out that you have been reading filthy smut.

Part One, Part Two, Part 3

Sunset Springs - You and Gale head of to the local springs at sunset, whereby you address the budding chemistry that is palpable between you two

Lovers Tragedy - Gale is goes to the netherbrain to follow Mystra's command, whilst the reader pleads for him to reconsider.

Gale Thoughts.

- Blackstaff Academy

Part one, Part Two: Gale Pov part 3, Part 4

So close, yet so far

- Came Back Wrong:

Part 1 ,Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 part 6

you find Gale in Moonrise Towers, mute and missing a

The wizard of Moonrise , Broken Silence

Rolan

The Tiefling Wizard - You find Rolan, drunk and after Lorroakan has marked his face, you help him to your room and look after him

Part One, Part 1.5, Part 2, Part 3.

The Wizards Tower - The reader works at Sorcerers Sundries and helps to look after Rolan

Touch Starved Rolan - pretty much what the title says.

Part One, Part Two

Rolan finding our his human crush thinks she hates him.

Rolan apologising and making amends to his crush

Heat Cycle - Rolan is mid heat cycle when you enter his office

Zevlor

Thoughts about Zevlor

Zevlor's Human S/O asking if she can worship his infernal traits

The Hellrider's Redemption -

Part one, Part Two Part Three Part four part five

Buggy The Clown

Well I Guess I'm A Fool For You:

Part One, Part Two, Part 3, Part 4.

Sailors Folly:

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four.

Eddie Munson

One More Drink - Eddie is in his 40s, reader in their mid 20s. You meet Eddie at a dive bar in town after your date stood you up out of nowhere, you spend the night in Eddie's company until you end up nearly passed out drunk.

A Late Night Session - You were part of the Hellfire crew and had just finished your most recent campaign, Eddie invited you over for the night after the rest of the club had left.

Batttle Aftercare - Eddie, your neighbour, had been brought to you injured, it was up to you to look after him

Emperor Geta

Treasure - Geta saw you and wanted to make you his precious treasure, adoring your skin with paint so he could see if anybody touched you.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four.

The Empress - You were just as bloodthirsty as Geta was, a delightful surprise to him

Part One, Part Two, Part Three Part Four

Thoughts on Geta taking his son to watch the games.

- The Making Of an Heir

Emperor Caracalla

- Little Dove: Caracalla noticed you in court and wants to make you his, to revere you as his own.

Part one , Part two

- Emperor Caracalla being a crying mess for you

Haarlep:

Anon Asks:

part 1 part 2 part 3

Halsin:

Anon asks:

Part 1, part 2

Harper Geraldus:

Anon ask:

Harper geraldus part 2 smut

Sam drake:

Aftercare

Wyll:

Wyll ask about his infernal traits

Tav asking Wyll to teach them dance

Lucinas/Spite

Rook walks into Lucinas' room at night, encountering him and Spite:

Night Of Spite , A Touch Of Spite, An Aftermath of Spite

[festivalsofmargot]

Table of Contents!

Making a pinned post for all of my stories in case anyone wants easy access! Will edit as I post more.

Sebastian Sallow:

Pining in Potions Class - Pure fluff story, standalone, gender neutral

Pretty Thoughts - Involves kissing, standalone or follow up to Pining in Potions Class, gender neutral

Selfless - Involves kissing, standalone or follow up to Pretty Thoughts, gender neutral

You Are a Memory - Involves 18+ scenarios, kissing and sex, could be a follow up to the above 3 stories or standalone, gender neutral

Gall of a Gryffindor - Involves kissing, standalone, gender neutral

Sour Times - Bully Sebastian with a bullied Hufflepuff, involves kissing and angst, standalone, gender neutral

My Sleep Remedy - 18+ scenarios, standalone smut story, female reader

The Northcott System - Involves kissing, underage drinking, fluffy standalone, gender neutral

Sebastian Sallow Discovers ASMR - Involves kissing, fluffy standalone, gender neutral

Garreth Weasley:

Freckled Serotonin - Involves kissing, super fluffy standalone, gender neutral

Blood Sport - 18+ scenarios, Standalone or continuation of Garreth’s portion in ‘The 3 Boys & The Hogwarts Champion’, angst and smut, female reader

Illicit Affairs - 18+ scenarios, Dad!Garreth Weasley x Professor!Reader, smut with a plot, angst without a happy ending, standalone, female reader

Sebastian Sallow/Ominis Gaunt/Garreth Weasley Imagines:

The 3 Boys & Your Jealousy - Involves kissing, standalone, gender neutral

The 3 Boys & The Hogwarts Champion - Involves kissing & angst, standalone, gender neutral

Non Hogwarts Legacy Fics:

A Man of Fortune - Uncharted 4 fic, Sam Drake x Fem!Reader, involves kissing, standalone

[12202005]

Masterlist

Pedro Pascal:

Drabbles:

Billy Hope:

Drabbles:

Markiplier:

Drabbles:

Sam Drake:

Drabbles:

Swaggersouls:

Editing

Bathroom

Drabbles:

[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.