Sam: Hello, all! The fabulous Sam Nishimura here, with my ever faithful companion, the has-the-cutest-butt-in-the-known-universe, most brilliant archeologist Lara Croft here!
Lara: Sam...don't submit that.
Sam: But Laraaaa, your butt deserves media attention!
Lara:...If anyone has any inquiries, send them this way.
I WANT SOME LARA x SAM NAUGHTY SEX
Part of that drunk kissing arc. Sam wants more than kisses.
“Lara?” Her name is just a low, low groan on her lips. The space between them was just a breath, both heaving with the new separation. This wasn’t just innocent kissing anymore. This wasn’t slow pecks and caressing and giggling. Lara’s tongue had just been buried, tangled in her own, it had stolen her air just as her teeth had closed around her lower lip and pulled back, igniting a horribly overwhelming need in her lower belly. Lara’s eyes are dark and misted, cheeks red. She didn’t look so innocent anymore.
Cheiloproclitic- Lara/Sam... (because everybody is fucking attracted to Lara's lips...)
Sam’s relationship with Lara’s lips is complicated.
The first time her lips had distracted me, it wasn’t really that big of a deal. I hadn’t known her so well back then; our first movie night together, sitting a full cushion apart on the couch. She had started talking about some ancient something or another, I don’t remember. I wasn’t listening. I was too busy watching her mouth move, watching her lips close around her Os and curl through her Us and sink into her Ms. It’s like they were…they were seriously the most perfect pair of lips I’d ever seen in real life.
Sam and Lara’s first time.
I’m not good with sex when there’s a serious attachment. There, I said it. I’ve fucked around, I’ve been around the block. I’ve had one nighters and half nighters and nightclub encounters and all that taboo garbage, but when to comes to cuddling and kissing and getting up the next morning with eggs and orange juice, no thanks. It makes me…very nervous.
"Oh, love. It’s alright. He’s alright, isn’t he?"
"That isn’t the p-point, Lara. You know that."
"I know, Sam. I know. I’m sorry."
I hug her waist tighter and bury my face in the crook of her neck, sniffling against the her loose, long hair. ” I can’t believe this shit. I c-can’t believe she did this to me.” I feel the gentle weight of her head lean against the top of mine in a protective way. I want to tell her to just get my mind off of this. Please, Lara. I see the way you look at me when you’re drunk. We make out whenever you’ve got whiskey in you, just enough to ensure you won’t remember. Can we just fuck so I don’t have to think anymore?