#uncharted 4 a thief's end ending

[roguishknight]

[chewbacca]

Uncharted 4: A Thief's End (2016) dev. Naughty Dog

[veradia]

Brother's Keeper ⚔🔥

[acecroft]

Good to see you alive, Sam.

[halfwayriight]

Nadine Ross  |  Uncharted 4: A Thief’s End (Chapter 6 - Once a Thief...)

[gameplaydaily]

[nathandrakeisabottom]

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

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

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

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

Drakes with an Anxious S/O Headcanons

Nathan:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because distractions always helped him before. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wants to share everything with the person he loves.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.” He replies without missing a beat. 

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

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

Sam:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess? What about—?” 

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

“Your point being?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

What he chose to change it into. 

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

“Why don’t we find out, ‘sweet’art’?”

[glassrunner]

My Top 5:

@delzinrowe asked: top 5 video game villains?

[pedroam-bang]

Uncharted 4: A Thief’s End (2016)

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Tender Loving Care - Sam Drake X GN Reader

Title: Tender Loving Care

Sam Drake X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Nathan (Mentioned), Sully (Mentioned), and Reader's friends (Mentioned)

Requested by: @a-very-bored-blogger

WC: 3,763

Warnings: Sickfic, bar mentioned, alcohol mentioned, italics, smoking, nicknames, brief mention of snakes, movie reference, banter, flirting, teasing, confession, mini angst, and fluff

Waking up with a sore throat and a snotty nose was not how you wanted to start your day. At all. Your eyes felt crusty from sleep, or your sickness and your whole body felt achy and cold. Well, no work today for you, that's for sure. You were not going to get up, get dressed, and everything, just to suffer through eight or nine hours of dealing with people. That sounded like torture, and you didn't want to risk getting anyone else sick. One part of you was pretty elated, you didn't really care much for your job. But, the other part of you was going to miss your best friend, Sam. The both of you had planned to go out to dinner together.

You and Sam met when he rode into your sleepy little town on his motorcycle. You were on your way to college, walking down the sidewalk when he pulled up to you. He asked for directions to the closest motel and you answered politely; whilst also trying not to get too caught up in how handsome he was.

Throughout his stay in your little town, you had bumped into him many times. On the fourth time, you were with friends at a bar. You had been chatting with them, laughing and having a good time as you usually did, before one of your friends nudged you in the side. You looked at them, seeing their bright, mischievous grin and the glint in their eyes; watching as they gestured with their eyes to the other side of the room. 

You turned your head, looking over, only to freeze. There, at the other side of the bar, was the mysterious stranger that rode into town only a few days prior. The stranger that you had learned was called Sam Drake; his eyes flickered over to you. You had bumped into them three times before - as previously said - and all three times, you felt this immense connection between the two of you. 

Before you knew it, you found yourself walking to the other side of the bar; with a smidge of help from your friends, your confidence grew; albeit with the help of some liquid courage. You stood with him, leaning against the bar as you sipped one of your drinks.

You finally got to know the mysterious Sam, finding out that he was a treasure hunter; which definitely intrigued you. He told you the many stories of his adventures, from Captain Avery's treasure to just traveling around different countries with his brother. 

When it was your turn to speak, you almost felt that your life was practically nothing in comparison to his. You didn't go off on amazing adventures or found long lost treasure. You worked a simple - yet boring - nine to five job. You had friends, went out to the arcade and the movies sometimes, but never anything as amazing as what Sam said he did. You hadn't even traveled outside of the country. But you spoke your part, and Sam didn't turn away. He didn't yawn, he didn't stray his eyes, and he didn't try to interrupt you. You had his full and complete attention. 

And, well... To make a long story short. The two of you quickly became best friends.

Sam stayed in the town for the next month, playing the excuse that he needed a small vacation from his treasure hunting. You greatly doubted that. But, for that month, you spent most of the time together. You showed him around, introduced him to your friends, and even went on mini adventures on that motorcycle of his together. You were both joined at the hip, and you - and Sam - wouldn't have it any other way. 

But he did have to go. You had learned that Sam never liked to stay in one place for too long. And before you knew it, he was heading off to Granada, Spain. You were incredibly crestfallen. You didn't want him to go so soon, but then he asked you something that you couldn't refuse. 

He asked you to come with him.

You couldn't say ‘no.’ How could you say ‘no?’ This was your chance to get out of the country, to get away from your sleepy little town, to get away and go on a real adventure. You asked your boss for the time off, packed your bags, and off you and Sam went - with the help of his friend Sully - whom you grew to adore as a father figure. 

Granada was beautiful. The architecture, the culture, the food, everything. You wished that you could stay there forever. Sam - quite literally - taught you the ropes, teaching you how to toss a grapple hook and swing across high cliffs. You traveled through forests, through old ruins, and even helped Sam find the lost jewels of Enrique Gómez. It was adrenaline-filled, and exciting. 

You didn't know when, or where in Granada, but you found yourself falling for the thief. You quite thought that he stole your heart. And you did not want it back. You loved how passionate he got when he spoke about an artifact or some treasure he had planned to find in the future. You loved the way his face lit up when he found something amazing to show you. You loved how the corners of his eyes would crinkle when he laughed. You loved his voice when he spoke about anything and everything; you could listen to him talk for hours. And you loved his eyes... They held so many emotions, and if you held his gaze long enough, you believed that you'd fall into those dark abysses of his. 

This realization however, made your life a bit more difficult.

~~~

Groaning slightly, you pouted, not even wanting to move an inch; it felt like your skin was on fire, yet you were freezing. However, you needed to use the bathroom, and your nose was beginning to run, so you had to get up. After you were finished, you headed downstairs to find some tissues so you didn't have to use toilet paper, grabbed your carton of ice cream from the freezer for your sore throat, and headed back to your room. Dealing with your nose, you sniffled before heading to your closet to find your fuzzy bathrobe. Slipping that on, you almost felt a little better before heading to your TV, sliding your ‘Superman ll’ VHS tape into the player. Sitting on your bed, your back against the headboard, you slowly ate your ice cream as you watched your movie; feeling groggy and aching. 

~~~

Sam waited by his motorcycle, leaning on the diner building’s wall, as he waited for you; taking a drag from his cigarette. He was becoming a bit restless, with his foot tapping against the pavement. Near the beginning of his friendship with you, he insisted that he would pick you up in the evenings when you both had planned to have dinner together, but you insisted back, wanting to use your own car; not wanting Sam to waste his motorcycle’s gas more than he had to. Sam had been a bit disappointed in the beginning. He thought picking you up would be a great opportunity to spend more time with you, but it didn’t take Sam long to agree with you.

But as he waited, and waited, Sam began to wonder and worry about you. What if something happened? What if you got caught in traffic? Sam scoffed to himself on that. Traffic? There was hardly any, if not zero, traffic in your little town; Sam came to realize that after staying there for the past month or so. So, where were you? 

Were you okay?

Though Sam was used to feeling worried and uneasy - especially for his brother, Nathan - he still wasn't used to the feeling. In addition to these feelings that grew whenever he saw you. This intense sense of desire to protect, hold, and cherish you. It scared the hell out of him. It scared him because he didn't know how to handle it. He was a flirt. He was someone who enjoyed the thrill of danger. He probably couldn't count how many one-night stands he had. But this… This… It felt so different. He wasn’t a ‘settle down’ kind of guy. But, Sam believed that he could be for you.

He sighed heavily, smoke expelled from his mouth as he pulled the cigarette from his mouth and stared at it. You told him to quit, but it was difficult. He had cut back on how many cigarettes he smoked in a day - smoking only one or two a day. He wanted to quit; he really did - especially for you. But every once in a while, he’d lose himself and he’d start smoking again. Just a tiny bit of nicotine and he’d be good as new. Sam sighed again; staring at the cigarette for a moment before tossing it onto the ground, squishing it with the heel of his boot, and pushing himself off the wall. Sam stuffed his hands into his Jeans pockets as a couple left the diner; their laughter echoing throughout the air. Sam felt that he had waited long enough, hopping onto his bike. The trip to your house was a short one, and when Sam saw your car in the driveway, he let out a sigh of relief. 

Slipping off his bike, he walked up to the front door, ringing the doorbell. Shuffling his feet on the porch, he stuffed his hands back into his jean jacket pockets, hearing shuffling behind the door. As you opened the door, Sam's awaiting grin dropped when he saw your appearance. You stood at the open door, hand holding onto the door frame to support your weight. You were wrapped up in your fuzzy bathrobe, your hair a bit messy, and still in your pajamas. Your eyes were glassy, your eyelids were hooded, and your nose red. 

"Oh, sweetheart..." Sam muttered, as you sniffled, "Why didn't you tell me that you were sick? Why didn't you call me?"

"Hello, handsome," You gave him a small, tired smile, moving out of the way as he quickly entered, "I'm sorry, I should've called..." You muttered, closing the door behind yourself. "I just didn't want you to worry about me. I'm fine now, it's just a cold." You tried to reassure him, letting out a yawn.

Sam shook his head, raising his hand to press the inside of his wrist against your forehead, "Y/N, you're hot."

You let out a small laugh, having to turn and cover your mouth as you let out a nasty cough, "Thanks, you are too."

"No, sweetheart, you're really burning up." He spoke, "Come on, let's get you back into bed." You nodded slowly, following Sam up the stairs and back into your room. Sam pulled your blankets back as you climbed in; unable to stop smiling as Sam began to tuck you in perfectly. You hummed happily, snuggling deeper under your blankets before turning around to lay on your back, closing your eyes. "Do you need anything? Water, food?" Sam asked, watching as you shook your head. He let out a sigh as he ran his hand through your hair, pushing it from your sweaty forehead. 

"I'm good, thank you, Sammy." You spoke, clearing your throat slightly as you opened your eyes again, "You're too good for me." You mumbled, your eyes closing once more as you fell asleep.

Sam sighed once more as your breathing began to slow, your chest rising and falling peacefully. Standing from your bed, he headed out of your house, but not before grabbing your house keys from the hook by the door. 

~~~

You didn't know how long you had slept, or what time it was, but when you opened your eyes, you found the sun rising outside your bedroom window. Blinking rapidly you took in a deep breath, and sat up. As you push yourself to lean back against your headrest, you let out another cough, rubbing your sore throat with your hand. Looking around, you found Sam's jean jacket on the back of your desk chair, his shoes next to yours by your closet. You couldn't help but smile as you brushed your hair back, wondering where he was. But, your question was quickly answered as you heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and it wasn't long until your bedroom door opened. 

Sam entered, dressed in his jeans and maroon v-neck, holding a bowl. Noticing that you were awake, Sam's frown flipped right around. "Afternoon, gorgeous."

"Gorgeous?" You let out a small laugh, watching as he sat down the steaming bowl on your bedside table. It looked like soup. "I bet I look like a mess, but, thank you." You smiled brightly at him, sitting up. "So, where have you been?"

He continued to grin, running a hand through his hair, "Out n' about."

"Out? Where?" You pressed, furrowing your eyebrows together.

"Well, I went to the store, and got you a few things that you might need..." He replied, grinning as he continued, going around your bed to grab a brown paper bag from the end of your bed; placing it down near your feet, "And then I made you soup. Your tea is doing whatever tea does in the kitchen. I was going to go grab it after I gave you your soup. But now that you're awake..." He trailed off, digging through the bag to pull out the items he grabbed for you.

"Sam, did you really?" You asked with a smile, excitement, and surprise in your voice, and your stomach filled with warmth as he nodded. "Is that chocolate?" You asked as Sam pulled out a few packs of crackers, some chocolate bars, a box of tissues, and a few small bottles of water.

"Yeah. I didn't know how much you needed. Or what you wanted..." He muttered, placing them all on your nightstand; the last item being an ibuprofen bottle. "But, I also saw this when I was out, and thought you might like it." He spoke, going back into the paper bag, and pulling out a book. You blinked a few times before your eyes widened, looking up at Sam in shock. 

Reaching out, you took the book into your hands, a gasp leaving you, "Sam... This is ‘The Trials of Marine Beaumont’! The legendary French pirate that revolutionized European history in the seventeenth century! How did you get this? It’s been sold out everywhere." Sam shrugged lightly, giving a halfhearted smile as he took a seat at the edge of your bed. "Who knew that a small cold would bring out the nurse in you. You spoil me.”

"Don’t think that’s an excuse for you to get sick again." He smirked at you softly, “And I always spoil you.” His chocolate brown eyes gazed down at you. "How do you feel?" He then asked, shifting closer to your side.

"A little better... My throat is a bit sore, but otherwise, I feel great." You smiled softly, glancing over at your alarm clock, "It's almost two... Did you stay here all night last night?"

"Yeah," Sam nodded, "I didn't know if you'd need me for anything... So, I slept on the couch."

You sat the book down beside you on the bed, "Sammy... You should've just taken the guest bedroom. That couch is so small."

Sam just shrugged, his fingers fiddling with the edge of the handmade quilt, "Slept on worse," He joked, looking up at you, finding you already looking at him. Clearing his throat, he pressed his fist to his mouth briefly, "So, you hungry? Don't want your soup to get cold."

You hummed, nodding as your smile softened, "Yeah, it smells amazing."

~~~

"Snakes... Why is it always snakes..?" 

Your bedroom was dark, only the light from your TV illuminating the room. You were sitting on your bed, leaning against the headboard, Sam beside you; his arm wrapped around your shoulders. An empty bowl sat on your bedside table, along with your new book, your empty tea cup, and your alarm clock - which read; seven-thirty-three. 

Your cheek was pressed snuggly against Sam's shoulder, eyes glued to your TV as Indiana Jones found himself surrounded by snakes. Your nose felt dry, as did your throat; and you coughed. Sam rubbed soothing circles into your shoulder. Sam blindly reached for the half-empty water bottle beside him, before handing it to you. 

"Thank you..." You muttered, taking small sips from the bottle. "You know," You began, clearing your throat a bit, "He reminds me of you."

Sam looked down at you, his brows knitting in confusion. "Who?"

You shook your head, "Indiana Jones." You chuckled softly, setting the bottle of water on the nightstand, "He loves adventure, going from place to place, finding treasures..." You trailed off, grabbing a tissue from the tissue box and blowing your nose. "Though I will admit, you're funnier than him." You said, throwing away the tissue in your small, plastic trash can.

"You don't say," Sam smiled, his lips grazing the tip of your head, before looking back at the TV.

"I do say," You mumbled, nuzzling your cheek on the soft fabric of his sleeve. "I love that about you. No matter how I am feeling, or what situation, you always make me laugh."

Sam suddenly felt warm, his heart fluttering as he smiled. "Hey, I am a man of many talents." Sam breathed out, his thumb running across your shoulder gently.

"Yes, you are," You grinned, just as the infamous Indiana Jones pulled his way out of the snake pit. But at the sound of your little hum, Sam looked back down at you. Feeling his eyes on you, you looked up at him. "What?" You asked, biting off a piece of your chocolate bar.

Sam tilted his head to the side slightly, his dark eyes searching yours before he spoke, "What was that little hum all about?" He asked, his grin turning mischievous.

"What hum?" You giggled quietly, moving the chocolate bar from your mouth.

"You hummed, sweetheart." He raised an eyebrow, "What popped up in that beautiful mind of yours?"

You bit your bottom lip, re-wrapping the chocolate bar and setting it over on your bedside table. You watched Sam closely, as he looked back at you. He seemed curious, waiting for your answer patiently. "Nothing important..." You spoke softly, suddenly becoming nervous. Sam could tell that something was bothering you. "Um, Sam," You paused, licking your lips nervously. "Can I ask you something?" You started, not meeting his eyes.

"You can ask me anything," He told you, his hand on your shoulder gently playing with your hair. You nodded, staring down at your hands in your lap. The short silence between the two of you hung thick and heavy. Sam could hear your breathing slowly getting heavier and heavier. After a moment, he sighed, deciding to speak first; seeing as you never had a problem talking to him, even when it came to the serious stuff. "Y/N?" His voice sounded gentle, his tone kind as he spoke to you.

"When are you going to leave?" You asked, continuing to stare down at your lap, as Sam felt a wave of panic - and slight hurt - settle in his stomach.

"I can leave-"

"No!" You cried out,, your hand grabbing his, quickly lifting your gaze to meet his eyes. "I mean... Um... I- uh, Do you have any plans on leaving any time soon? Y’know, going off on another adventure?" What you really wanted to ask was if he had plans of leaving you soon. You knew that Sam wasn't the kind of guy to stay in one place for too long. He had told you, and it was very apparent in the many stories that he told you, that it was only a matter of time. 

He stared down at you, watching the nervous expression on your face shift to worry. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, shaking his head slightly as he opened them again, "Not right now. It might be a while. Maybe in a week or two. Not sure." Sam admitted before his expression suddenly turned serious. The intensity in his eyes caused your breath to catch in your throat, but with a somewhat defeated sigh, he dropped his eyes from you to the still-playing TV. As Indiana swooped down with his lady-love in his arms, Sam pursed his lips; his eyes narrowing in deep thought. "I'm not good at this," He muttered, and you could tell that he was speaking more to himself than anyone else.

Your brows furrowed, "At what?"

Sam hesitated for a few moments, before speaking. "Love," He explained, his brown eyes boring into yours, causing you to blink once, twice. "I've been in love before, Y/N, but... I've never felt anything like what I do towards you. It's hard for me to put words to my feelings, but... I guess what I'm trying to say is..." He trailed off, not knowing how to continue. "You make me want to be that 'settle down' type of guy, sweetheart." You swallowed thickly at his confession.

You suddenly forgot how terrible you felt - forgetting about the stuffy nose, the sore throat, and your aching muscles - you simply focused on him. His gentle touch as his hand covered yours, his words echoing through your head as you gazed into those same deep brown orbs. His words made your insides melt, and your cheeks flushed. You felt yourself falling deeper and deeper, and deeper. "Really?" You asked, you couldn't help yourself, letting out a small giggle; you felt your eyes tear up slightly.

"Yeah," Sam breathed, "Really." He repeated, reaching out to cup your warm cheek.

You sighed, "If I wasn't sick right now, I would kiss you," You stated honestly, feeling a rush of excitement course through your veins as you stared into his eyes.

Sam grinned, narrowing his eyes playfully, "I don't mind getting sick, if it means kissing you,"

You couldn't help but laugh, before turning away swiftly to let out a rough cough into the sleeve of your elbow. "First thing when I'm better, how about that?" You suggested, looking back up at him, unable to keep your wide smile off of your face.

Sam chuckled lightly, looping his arm back around your shoulders, the both of you settling back to watch the rest of the Indiana Jones movie, "I'll hold you to that."

---

Main Masterlist | Uncharted Masterlist

[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.”

[stdismas]

uncharted 4: a thief’s end scenery: 5 / ??

[ps5captures7]

SCENERY in Uncharted: Legacy Of Thieves Collection (2022) [Uncharted: The Lost Legacy]

Captured On PS5, By me

Post Date: Saturday, 9th November 2024

Capture Dates: ?

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[veradia]

[acecroft]

Sam Drake in UNCHARTED 4

[halfwayriight]

Chapter 07: Lights Out