Ride or Die | Sam Fender AU

019

"Sam, where are we going?" you asked, running your fingertips along the brown leather seats of Sam's Porsche. He hadn't told you much, had just woke you up and sent you off to shower before carting you out of the house into his car. You hadn't got to speak to Sam after the events of last night, his business taking longer than anticipated. You waited up for him after your bath but the day had exhausted you and you ended up falling asleep before the clock had struck ten, long before Sam had joined you.

"I told yer, little lamb, I'm taking yer shopping," he smirked, rubbing your outer thigh over your tights with his thumb. "I took the whole day off just for you."

"You didn't have to do that," you frowned.

"It's about time I spoiled my little lamb properly," he told you, taking your hand from your lap and entwining his fingers with yours. He lifted it to his mouth and pressed a kiss against its back, his eyes never straying from the road.

"You don't need to do that either," you murmured as your cheeks dusted with warmth.

"Of course I do," he smiled. "I'm sorry I didn't come to bed until late last night, I got held up."

"That's alright," you assured him softly, pulling his hand into your lap and covering it with your free one. "I'm sorry for falling asleep so early."

"Don't be daft," he snorted. "Dinner must've worn yer oot."

"It was nice," you murmured. "Your mum is lovely."

"She's a bit much sometimes," he chuckled, turning into the car park.

"She's fine," you giggled quietly. "Sam?"

"Aye, little lamb?" he hummed as he found a space and began parking.

"Why... why is your dad so b-bad?" you asked quietly, immediately regretting the words as they left your mouth. "It's j-just... your mum is so..."

"Nice?" he offered shortly. You nodded. "My father is a cold man, little lamb, we've never seen eye-to-eye. To him, I'm a disappointment."

"I'm sorry," you frowned. You unclipped your seatbelt and carefully crawled over the console to settle yourself in his lap, snaking your arms around his broad shoulders. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't think you're a disappointment."

"It would, except I stopped caring what he thought a long time ago," he told you, wrapping an arm around your waist and using his opposite hand to cup your cheek, smoothing over your skin with the pad of his thumb. "But I'm glad to hear yer divvn't think so, little lamb."

"You're a good man, Sam," you murmured, fiddling with the lapels of his suit. Sam's jaw clenched and his grip on your waist tightened, prompting you to lean down and lay your lips over his in a gentle kiss. "You're a good man."

"We should be getting on," he spoke, clearing his throat loudly. "Ceemon, Principessa."

You gave him one last kiss before opening the driver's side door, pivoting in his lap to climb out. Sam got out behind you, his hand finding the curve of your arse as he shut the door and locked it. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and feathered a trail of kisses along the sensitive skin.

"Sam," you whined as he led you towards the entrance of the outlet.

"Mmm," he hummed, the corners of his lips tugging into a boyish smirk as he pulled away, shoving his keys into his trousers pocket. "This way, little lamb."

"Ann Summers?" you read the sign aloud. You were utterly confused until your gaze fell upon the shop windows that housed scantily clad mannequins, your cheeks warming in embarrassment. You squeaked, "Sam."