Photographs and Artifacts (Nathan Drake x F! Reader)

Photographs and Artifacts

You sighed heavily as you kicked open the door of your small New York apartment and gently albeit with a sense of frustration flung your camera bag onto your weathered couch. You had just come back from another irritatingly mild job of photographing a sweet little bed and breakfast in Southern California. These dead end jobs were going to be the death of you but as much as you hated to admit it they paid the bills. Secretly you longed for that sense of adventure that came with exploring exotic and untouched corners of the Earth. You ached for the thrill of walking amongst the ruins that most people only ever dreamed about and recording their beauty through the lens of your camera. Much to your disappointment those kinds of adventures only came when in the presence of the devastatingly handsome bane of your existence, Nathan Drake. Just thinking about his dark tousled hair and baby blue eyes had you all flustered; as much as it hurt you to admit you were hopelessly in love with him.

You met Nate about five years ago, it was just after you had graduated college, you were an art major, more specifically your focus was in photography and to celebrate you were backpacking throughout Europe. Whilst traversing through the streets of slightly questionable European town your camera bag was swiped by a young man and while you gave chase yelling for him to stop; he was much too quick for you. Thankfully, Nate happened to be around and heard the commotion and was able to get your bag back before the ruffian could get away. One thing led to another and you both ended up in a dark European bar trading stories and laughing the night away. In an off-hand comment you remarked how envious you were of his thrilling lifestyle and how you craved that kind of adventure. Right then and there he offered to take you with him and when you looked into his eyes you could tell that he was serious, or at least as serious as he could be under the influence of several beers. But that moment was the start of a beautiful friendship and a small part of you, which you tried to silence, hoped it would be the start of something more.

Drake "hired" you to come with him on his adventures and photograph the locations he visited; granted the pay was terrible and everything usually devolved into a firefight but you wouldn't trade it or him for the world. It had been about two weeks since Nate had last contacted you which was unusual because he was usually in constant contact with you from phone calls, text messages, to even meeting up at a local bar to talk or rather listen to him talk about his ancestor Francis Drake and his next expedition. Nate would always drag you along on his expeditions, not that it took much convincing because you were best friends and you would do anything for each other. You flipped open your phone to check if you had any messages from Nate, much to your disappointment finding only voicemails from your boss, and then you heard it. It was clearly the sound of someone shuffling around in your kitchen and you began to panic; you reached into your desk drawer and pulled out the small pistol and checked to make sure you loaded it properly. If being around Nathan Drake for five years had taught you anything it was how to handle a firearm properly. Cautiously you opened the door to your kitchen and pointed your gun toward the looming figure caught rummaging through your dimly lit refrigerator and you stopped short...

You flicked on your light as you recognized the ruffled black hair of your best friend, Nathan Drake. You carefully placed your gun on the kitchen counter and huffed, "Jesus Christ, Nate! What the hell are you doing here?"

At your exclamation Nate whipped around with two beers in hand and a startled expression as he noticed your pistol, "Damn, Y/N! I know I haven't called in a little while but is that any reason to pull a gun on me?"

You scoffed lightheartedly, "Don't get cheeky with me Drake! You were the one who was acting all creepy shuffling around my apartment in the dark. I almost regret giving you a key. And where have you been? And what have you been doing it's been like two weeks?"