#sdv x player

[nomazee]

pry your way in

sebastian (sdv) x gn reader

word count: 4.7k (oh my god)

content: mutual pining, ROMANTIC TENSION, aggressive pining on the reader’s part, do they kiss or do they not, social anxiety (can u TELL), embarrassing situations, comedy (maybe) (hopefully) (maybe you’ll get a little giggle out of this and swing your feet around), so much build up, the slowest burn you could possibly get in under 5k words

notes: oh HEY guys so i went crazy again and i don’t think i’ve ever written so much in one sitting. this is insane. look at what this game has done to me. 

part 1 part 2 (you are here) part 3

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All you need to do is drop off these stupid eggs in Gus’s fridge. That’s it. In and out and then you can go home and pretend that you did not stare at Sebastian for almost an entire straight minute in the doorway of the saloon. 

He’s too busy playing pool, you think, and from the brief (many) glances you’ve taken at them, it looks like he’s pretty close to beating Sam. Your heart goes out to the blonde. One day, for sure, he’ll be able to get more than three balls in an entire game against Sebastian. 

The fridge door is open now. No one notices you except for Emily, who gives you a kind nod and a smile. You don’t know if you should be upset by the fact that no one really talks to you whenever you go to the saloon unless you talk first, or if you should be incredibly relieved. It’s leaning to the latter, because you don’t think you could handle being looked at right now especially by Sebastian because good god the jellyfish thing was so embarrassing and you really hope he’s forgotten about it because oh my god you actually almost puked all over his shoes and what is wrong with you and—

“Farmer!” Oh god. It’s a woman’s voice. It’s Abigail, and despite the fuzz in your mind you can tell by the timbre of her voice and the fact that the shout came from over by the pool table. You managed to get two eggs in the container in the fridge before being ousted. Good job. You hope Gus’ extreme ginormous 24-egg omelet is worth all of this. 

If you tried really hard, you could have played it off as if you didn't hear her at all. But then she’s walking over to you and you hear her footsteps and they’re light, friendly. Unfortunately, that does nothing to stop you from freezing up and feeling every individual cell in your body go taut.

Maybe she’s going to kill you, or something, because maybe you did actually puke all over Sebastian’s sneakers nights before this and your mind just blocked it out. Oh god. Well, this town was nice while it lasted. You hope they’ll bury you in a nice spot out of courtesy. 

Turning to face Abigail, you manage to give her a shaky sort of grin and wave. “Oh. Hey. I didn't know you were here.” You are such a liar. And a bad one, probably. 

“Yeah! Me and Sam and Sebastian.” You nod at that. A pause, and then, “Hey, are you busy tonight? We were wondering if you wanted to join us. We’re playing pool, but— um, it’s mainly just those two playing. They’ve got a rivalry going on.” 

She looks back at them and watches, amused, and you do the same for a moment. Sam is in the middle of making some big joke-y scene, throwing his head back and groaning and swatting at Sebastian while the other man just barely ducks away from his attacks. They’re laughing, and elbowing each other and you look away before either of them notice that you’re watching with the intensity of a wild deer. 

“Oh, I don’t know. Thank you. I don’t want to come if not everyone wants me to join.” 

“Everyone does,” Abigail tells you, and she’s really telling you. With purpose. There is something in her eyes. Something imploring and meaningful and her lips are quirking up in some pretty and teasing smile, and you’re wondering what’s so different about the way Pelican Town people are raised to make them carry so much weight in their eyes. So much weight that it makes you dizzy. And nauseous. And now maybe you’ll puke on Abigail’s shoes, instead.

“Okay.” It comes out as a whisper from your shaky mouth. She only smiles brighter at you. You register that you’re still behind Gus’s counter and there are drinks being shaken and poured just steps behind you. “Okay, I’ll be over in a second.” 

Great, she tells you, and then she’s turning around and walking away with a little jump and you might throw up because why did you agree to this? You did not plan on talking to people this evening. Not at all. And you’re wishing so hard that you had just dropped these eggs off in the morning. This is the type of stuff that happens when you don't just drop eggs off in the morning. Just your luck. 

You shake your head, as if maybe it’ll rattle your senses into being ready to spectate a pool game and talk with people for at least half an hour. And Sebastian. You don’t think you could handle the intensity of just sitting next to him. You might throw up again. All over the pool cues and the fuzzy cloth of the pool table. And maybe Sam’s shoes. Everyone’s shoes are getting thrown up on this week. 

Eventually, you make the walk out from the counter and consider just leaving through the door and telling Abigail later on that you just felt sick and needed to go home. It wouldn’t be a lie. You are a person of half-truths, most definitely. 

But you don’t, because you like Abigail and you want her to like you too. By the look of everything she’s done for you, you’re fairly certain that she does like you, or at least more-than-tolerates you, and you would like to keep it that way instead of burning down all of your Stardew Valley relationships in a slow, painful fire. (And okay, yes, maybe it’s a benefit that she’s friends with Sebastian. So what.) 

You blink. You’re in front of the three of them. Abigail and Sam are smiling at you and Sebastian is giving you a look. What is it with the people in this valley and their looks?! You have yet to be able to decode any of them. This is rough. So rough. You’re falling back into the uncomfortable feeling of otherness. Of just-barely-not-fitting. Like squeezing between a desk and a wall. Every other day you are walking through just fine, and the other days you are squeezing between this town and the people and everything you have yet to learn. 

You might puke. You’re not making it out of this saloon alive. 

“Hey, farmer!” Sam greets you, and your chest is struck with endearment over how everyone calls you farmer. Maybe it’s just because they forgot your name, but you can’t seem to mind it at all. “Are you joining us?” 

“Oh, just for a bit,” you tell him. You can’t help the smile that takes over your face, warmed and sheepish. “And then I should go. But I’m a big fan of watching you guys argue over pool. Really, it’s very captivating.” 

Abigail chortles, taking pleasure in the playful sarcasm you’ve adapted to. When Sam and Sebastian both follow suit in their own little laughs, your defensive habits slip away the slightest bit. And you can’t seem to find it in you to hold onto them. 

“Less of an argument and more of a…” Sebastian pauses with a teasing glance at his friend. Your heart stops for no reason other than you being stupid and in love, and it only chokes you up when he directs his stupid stupid pretty eyes right at you. “More of Sam being a sore loser. It’s an easy win on my part, really.” 

A snicker escapes you, undignified in how easily you let it out and how it threatens to reverberate against the walls of the game room. You’re holding onto yourself for dear life, trying to ground yourself in some attempt to maybe keep some of your dignity before it’s worn away through the course of the evening. 

But Sebastian has this prideful simper on his face and it’s like he’s happy to make you laugh. Maybe it’s the loving delusions running through your head. But you let yourself dream, just for a minute. 

Stupid boy. The urge to kiss him is slowly hurtling its way through your entire system, and it’s starting with your respiratory tract judging by the way you can’t seem to catch a breath. Stupid. Boy. 

“You can sit down, you know,” and he nods his head to the pair of chairs behind him. “Stay a while.” His eyes are filled with a stupid teasing glimmer and you might pull him aside just to kiss that expression right off his face. 

You won’t. Obviously. Because look at what happened last time you let your inhibitions run free. (Absolutely. Nothing.) 

Maybe I will, you want to say, stay a while. Maybe I’ll stay forever. 

You take a seat, and Sebastian is still leaning against the table with his pool cue in hand. He is looking at you, hesitant, with his mouth slightly open like he wants to say something. Before he can, Abigail interrupts. 

“Wait, let me take over for you!” She says, rushing forward to steal the cue from him. “I want to play! You guys, like, totally monopolize the table every time we’re here.” Abigail’s eyes flit to Sebastian, then to you, and she continues, “Next time, let’s just play the two of us. You and me, farmer.” 

There’s another big, stupid smile stretching your face taut and you hope none of them notice your cracked, drying lips. They’re peeling open from how much you’re grinning tonight and how much you’re not moisturizing them. “Of course.” 

Sebastian is left with nothing in his hands once Abigail turns to aim her cue and hit the white ball (poorly) in an attempt to keep up Sebastian’s winning streak. With her and Sam occupied, you are left with the black haired man standing aimless in front of you. Again. And his eyes are trailing you, with purpose and a goal to speak. Again. 

You throw his words back at him with, “Well, sit down. Stay a while.” And he does. And your stupid mind is wondering if maybe him following you so easily means something. Stupid stupid. 

“How’s, um. Your stomach,” he asks, stunted pauses littering his voice as he tries his best to look at you. You don’t know what he’s talking about, and it must show on your face because he’s clarifying, “From the ceremony last week. I haven't seen you since then so I figured you must’ve been sick.” 

Sebastian is prying. Not in his words, but in the way he’s looking at you. Really, really looking, and this feels like a repeat of last week and you are reliving a million and one things that you would rather never relive again. 

Your palms are suddenly cold and you’re avoiding his gaze, body stiff with guilt. You’d been avoiding him for a week and you honestly hadn’t even noticed. It was like a subconscious response to humiliating yourself in front of the pretty boy that you’ve liked for weeks now. You hope he doesn’t blame you for that, somehow. 

“Right. Um, I was fine. I’m fine now, I mean. I turned out fine. Sorry for all of that,” your feet are shuffling against the ground and you drag patterns into your pants to comfort yourself. “It was kind of embarrassing. To have you walk me home and then suddenly get sick. I really am sorry for that.” 

“Don’t even worry about it.” There’s a sureness in his voice. When you find the courage in your lungs to turn and look at him, you’re met with a furrowed brow and steady eyes. It’s overwhelming you with ten different feelings, many of which are yelling at you to KISS HIS STUPID FACE. “Seriously. It wasn’t embarrassing, either. Things happen. I’m just glad you’re okay, now.” 

Sebastian ends it with another one of his chest-aching, brain-melting, palm-sweating smiles and he’s doing that stupid thing with the corners of his mouth. He probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it, and that’s what frustrates you the most. Maybe you should tell him, but he would take it the wrong way and stop doing it and you wouldn’t survive without seeing that stupid smile. As much as it makes you want to tear your hair out if you look at it for too long. 

You give him a firm nod. The rest of the night is easy conversation. You have one drink. Really, you make sure of it, because you haven’t gotten intoxicated in months and you really don’t want to see what drunk-you does in Stardew Valley in front of the sweet townspeople and the stupid pretty man in front of you. Said stupid-pretty-man follows suit, only having a pale ale and indulging in shirley temples for the rest of the night. (You punch yourself for finding it endearing that he likes such a sweet drink. Urgh.) 

It feels like a parallel universe of the Moonlight Jellies celebration of last week. One where you are a much less awkward person (but, really, there’s just barely a difference between now and before), and where you offer to walk him home instead of the other way around. Your stupid infatuated heart skips a stupid beat when you ask him if you can walk him back, but it quells when he gives you an easy smile and agrees. You pointedly ignore the voice in your head telling you that he sounds almost enthusiastic.

Sam and Abigail wish you goodnight, and they’re both beaming at you in a silly way that makes you follow suit. Giggles bubble in your chest and you don’t even know why. You think they must just have those kinds of personalities, and you really couldn't be more happy to seep into it. 

You don’t hold Sebastian’s hand on the way back. Not at all. In fact, you don’t even feel the urge to. You totally, totally don’t look at his hand swaying between you and fight the instinct to grab it and trace your fingers across his palm lines and the dips of his knuckles and all the scars he’s collected in his youth. You. Do not. Feel that way at all. 

It’s easy conversation, yet again. It’s almost impressive how, even with how easily you seem to do the most mortifying, awkward things in front of Sebastian, you still slip into moments with him where you can talk like you’ve known each other forever. God. Something about this town. You can’t tell if you want to catch the next operable bus out of here or stay here forever. You feel that way often, actually. 

Before you know it, you’ve cut through the city and ended up in the mountains and in front of his house. The lights are off. It must be super late, then, if everyone’s dead asleep like that. 

Crickets chirp and buzz in the air. You and Sebastian stop walking in the middle of the large dirt patch that takes up his front yard. Now, you’re looking at each other, and he’s giving you his awkward stupid gorgeous downward grin. You hope that you’re giving him something at least half as pretty, with the way you feel your lips stretch and crack again. You really need to get lip balm from Pierre’s. 

“It’s so late,” you mutter, because you don’t know what else to say and your heart is melting and slipping right out of your chest and onto the soil. “I guess I should go home.” 

You hope—cross-your-fingers-say-a-prayer type of hope—that he hears the hesitancy in your voice. That he realizes you don’t want to leave. That he sees the fondness in your eyes and how you’re trying to soften every defense mechanism you’ve ever learned in order to pry into him, now. And you hope. Cross your fingers and say a prayer. That he wants that, too. 

He hums a thoughtful, quiet sort of hum. Sebastian doesn’t move towards the door, or bid you a goodnight, or nod along and tell you he’ll see you another day. He waits. He is looking at you and prying you open and trying to gauge your reaction. To what, you don’t know, but there’s a static feeling in your head that tells you to wait and find out. 

“Right,” he says finally. His voice and his mouth curl carefully around the word, and it’s there again—the pauses, the hesitancy. You see your habits in him and you are aching with the need to find out what he means. What this all means. And you’re feeling stupid, and so you wait, too. 

“I think I feel bad leaving you to walk home,” Sebastian tells you. He’s speaking slowly, but not in a degrading way. It feels more like he wants the words to float to you and sink into the pores of your skin. And they do. They do, and it’s embarrassing, because now you’re sweating and hoping (again) that it doesn’t show on your face or your hands or the twisting of your fingers. “This is really far from the farm, you know.” 

“I think I would know,” you respond, teasing and lighthearted and acting like there isn’t a saturated yearning weighing down your body right now. “I can manage. I’ve been in the mines, you know. Seen all the monsters down there and everything.” 

He lets out a stupid breathy laugh and shakes his head. You hate how he acts so nonchalant, like it’s not obvious that you’re fighting the instinct to pick him up and shake him around like a bobblehead until his skull pops right off his neck. “Right, because there’s totally monsters down there.” 

“There are! You can come with me one day. I’ll prove it to you.” And it’s risky, to entertain that kind of thing, the concept of you two spending time together alone, where no one can see. Sebastian takes that as a challenge, apparently, because the diffident tilt of his lips turns smug and he’s saying,

“Then maybe you’ll sleep over one day.” 

Stttttupid boy. He’s stupid. The stupidest man you’ve ever met because now you’re really, really holding onto every last shred of your self-control. The thought of you in his house, with you both sleeping in the same twenty-foot-radius of space is making you heat up more than the valley’s summer sun. A frog croaks in a nearby bush. Nausea pools in your intestines. 

And you’re a terrible person, really, because even though you’re sweating and lightheaded from the heat you’re entertaining the thought of you both sleeping in the same bed. And it’s ridiculous. Really. You’re both adults who are perfectly capable of sleeping in the same bed without it meaning anything. Any particle of logic that enters your brain is vaporized by the heat of it. Your stomach is twisting and you swallow around the lump in your throat. 

He’s watching you. Still watching. Waiting for something to happen. The look he’s giving you is bordering on defensive, as if he’s anticipating a rejection. Stupid man. By now, he should realize you’re not prone to giving him rejections, of all people. 

“Maybe I will.” By some grace of whatever higher power is listening, you choke out the last puddles of your strength into a hopefully-confident tone of voice and the last words you have left in you for the night. It’s not a rejection. You hope he understands that. And he does. Oh, he has to understand what you mean by now, because he’s biting his lips and still. Looking at you. And waiting. All he does is wait. And you glance down and see his hands twitching at his sides. And you are going to do something. Something.

Oh, god. You’re thinking, Oh, okay, this is what this is, and he’s doing his stupid smile and the corners of his lips tuck in and you’re staring at them again. Really, really staring at them. You hope he notices. Your fingers are twitching now, too, almost aching with the need to hold something—to hold him and his twitching hands and spin them around in yours like a fingertrap. You want to get stuck and woven together, just for a moment. An aching, hurting, burning, devastating moment. 

It’s all you want. It’s all you’ve wanted for weeks now. And there’s a heat in your chest and your fingers and your head. Fingers twitching, eyes unblinking, and hands sweating; you wait. Wait for him to come closer. For him to do. Something. Soon. 

It’s an impossible task for you. You are not one for initiative. Never have been, not since you left your stupid office job and took up your place on this stupid farm and fell in love with this stupid man. Initiative is a daunting, horrifying, overwhelming concept, and all of your ambition has been drained from you ever since you planted your first parsnip in the ground. 

But but but. And this is how it always goes with you and Sebastian. But but but. There’s something about tonight. Something about tonight and the last week and the week before and the seasons before this that have carved this open wound into the middle of your diaphragm. Without even knowing it, Sebastian has clawed his way between your lungs and made an uneasy home in your heart. It’s disgusting, and maybe you’ll cough up all this adoration right on the doormat of his family’s house. 

How long has it been? How long have you both been standing here like idiots and waiting and breathing and staring? How long? You are asking yourself too many stupid questions. Initiative. You think of it again—and now your hands are on Sebastian’s shoulders and you don’t have half the mind to wonder when you stepped closer. 

You are not slow in your movements. Not at all. You are urgent and desperate and aching, but you give just enough time for him to pull away. In the back of your head, you wish that he’ll pull back and leave you empty and cold. But there is a warmth seeping through the cloth of his hoodie and tonight, you are stupid. 

You’re staring for just a moment before you close your eyes and surge forward slow enough for him to stop you, but fast enough that he won’t get the chance to look at your embarrassing, longing, yearning face before you kiss him. 

Because that’s it. You’re kissing him. You’re kissing him, with your hands gripping his shoulders with bruising strength, and with your feet planted into the ground to stop yourself from either floating or flinging yourself into the lake. You’re kissing him. And he’s not pulling away. And his hands reach to touch your elbows gently. For a moment, you think he’ll shove you down and run away, but his fingers are tapping along your arms, leaving a buzz in your bones and your head and your heart. 

You. Are kissing him. You are. You fucking. Did it. Joy floods your buzzing body and you hope he can’t hear how loud your skull is vibrating, how intensely your chest is rattling. Or how heavy your hands have become on his shoulders and how much you’re pushing back against him to get further, to pull him into you and you into him and pour in everything you’ve ever felt straight to his lungs. You’re kissing him. 

And he’s warm. So warm. Unexpectedly so, and you feel your entire body heat up in innocent adoration and you want his fingers to curl around your forearms and ground you. His hands shift, and for a minute you think he might pull away, but now he’s dragging his fingers in small paths up your arm, above your elbow and brushing your shoulders. Ggggggggod. God. You’re gonna scream into his mouth and slap him. Stupid man. 

In reality it lasts for a second, but the rush of feelings and thoughts and screams and cries that overwhelms your body makes it feel like it’s an hour. (At least ten minutes, maybe.) You wonder how he feels. You wonder if he’s trying to pour everything into you through this, too; or if maybe, he’s a normal fucking human being who is just kissing you to kiss you without all the grandeur and flourish and waxing poetic. Unbothered, you realize you won’t mind regardless of which it is. 

Your eyes are closed, and you hope his still are, too, because if he opens them and sees you you might throw up all over him. For the fortieth time this week. 

“Sebas— oh!” 

And. There’s a voice and a distressed exclamation. It’s Robin. Holy shit. It is his mother. 

The man you just spent an hour kissing (read: five seconds max) takes a moment to realize what just happened. You, on the other hand, have a ridiculous supercomputer in your head and you have long since figured out what just happened. You cannot believe this. This is embarrassing. A trip back to Zuzu City is well deserved now. 

“I’m— so sorry. Oh goodness.” Robin is being way too polite. You’d thought for sure she would’ve yelled at you and banned you from coming to the mountains ever again. You already kissed goodbye to both Sebastian (literally) and your mining career. And half your fishing career.

Sebastian’s face is flooded in color. It’s soaked in red and radiating heat that you can feel even with the ten-foot distance you had placed between yourselves. He’s not looking at you or his mother, eyes instead fixed on the patch of torn up dirt behind you. 

Finally, you process that Robin is the one apologizing to you, which is ridiculous and you wish she would’ve just pushed you into the river and screamed at you instead. You wish these people would’ve been a lot meaner to you already, and then maybe you would have never worked up the gall to kiss the man you’re stupidly in love with and cause this whole ordeal. 

“I’m so sorry,” and you’re the one saying it this time. You turn to look at Robin fully and resist the urge to fall to your knees and beg for her forgiveness. Tonight, you committed a mortal sin—giving her son a big fat heart-stopping kiss on the mouth right in front of their house—and you can only be forgiven by death, and death alone. 

There’s a confused look in her eyes, almost worried, and you think you might be actually shaking enough to launch yourself into the stratosphere like a space cannon. Instead, you channel the energy into completely turning yourself around and running away from the both of them. 

Disastrous. This night has been disastrous. You would’ve rather actually puked on everyone’s shoes instead of going through whatever the hell that was. You’re never going to catch a break in this stupid town with these stupid people and stupid Sebastian and his too-sweet-for-her-own-good mom. 

When you get home, you’re panting in exhaustion from sprinting across the valley, and your nerves and head are still buzzing and your lips are still warm from Sebastian’s being completely and willingly planted on them for about ten whole seconds. Your brain is too fried and melted to even consider the implications of everything you both just did, but you can’t seem to care. 

You’re embarrassed. Wholly and utterly humiliated, and for a moment you cross your fingers and pray to whoever will listen that you won’t be a topic of discussion during Robin and Sebastian’s family dinner with everyone else. 

You take a moment to catch your breath (an impossible thing) and finally collapse into your bed. You’re staring at your ceiling for what feels like hours, but you have a very poor sense of time and don’t trust that judgment at all. Everything settles in your head like mud shaken in a jar of water. And you smile. Dear god. Despite it all, you’re smiling and giddy and laughing to yourself, riding a high of schoolgirl-type-infatuation and post-kiss-adrenaline the weird, cruel excitement of the night. 

You kissed him. You kissed Sebastian. You. Fucking. Did it. 

The rest can be worried about tomorrow. Or maybe the day after that. Maybe even never, because you are absolutely going to avoid everyone and move in with the wizard instead, living in isolation for the rest of your life. But for now. You swing your feet and giggle like a twelve-year-old and replay the kiss in your head. Over and over. Like a sleep aid. You fucking did it.

[peeweekey]

sweet like

word count: 1.5 k

synopsis: love confessions are not easy, having nosy neighbours isn’t either—but loving sam is different, it’s as easy as breathing.

a/n: samson my beloved, youre allergic to pollen but accepted my bouquet anyway. 😔❤️

edit: sweet like is now on ao3! here

today’s the day, you’re really going to do it. no ifs or buts.

you swear you will, but damn if it isn’t messing with your head. it’s definitely the nervousness or heat stroke symptoms causing the overly-conscious way you regard all other shoppers in pierre’s general store. you feel the uneven, erratic thrum of your pulse underneath your skin.

your hands are cold and clammy and disgustingly sweaty as a bright bouquet of tulips, poppies, sweet peas and fairy roses is unceremoniously slid across the store counter and bundled into your arms. the smell is dizzyingly perfumed. pierre doesn’t bat an eye though the knowing glint just tells you that he knows.

you and sam have been friends for as long as you started living in the valley. he’s a literal ball of sunshine compacted into a 5’10 body, and he’s sweet—maybe at times a little sloppy and forgetful but those quirks make him all the more lovable—to you.

and you admit yes, you did have a crush on him—and after watching his band’s performance in zuzu city, it got even worse. suddenly the ignition jump started the thrum of your heart—beating at race car speeds at the mere mention of his name. restless and anxious

so, here you are, buying a bouquet (one you could surely make yourself, but according to abigail buying this exact one is town tradition) at 10 am in the morning, in front of all your nosy neighbours.

you clutch the flowers tighter to your chest as caroline cranes her neck to take a peek. slowing down as she restocks the shelves. shameless, these people are sharks to blood when it comes to gossip.

you shoot her a wary glare, lips pursed together. pushing open the door to the shop, the little entrance bell rings with your exit.

after your realization, you see the world through rose-tinted glasses, the skies seem brighter and clearer, with soft fluffy clouds suspended in them. the breeze is soft and refreshing, while the sun is a comforting warmth at your back.

not even a few steps past the stardrop saloon do you feel any different.

adrenaline pumps through your veins as you see a flash of familiar spiked-up golden hair in your periphery. you feel your breath stutter as you reflexively stuff the delicate bouquet in your pack and snap it shut.

you turn your back, clutching a hand to your chest—you feel your heart racing underneath your fingertips as well as the heat rising up your skin. it’s fine, you reason, you’ll play it off as sunburn.

you slap at your cheeks, encouragingly.

the aforementioned man, skates towards you, calling your attention. turning, you nod your head in greeting, offering him a less than wobbly smile.

you wait until the skateboard skids to a stop, sam stops a few feet from you. his breaths slightly labored from the effort, he’s still as bright and cheery as ever

“sam,” you cringe as your voice cracks into an awkward pitch. he perks up at the mention of his name, giving you an enthusiastic wave. you swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“hey farmer,” he smiles, sam sets one of his feet down from on his skateboard. “it’s really bright out today. what’cha up to?”

“i was looking for you, actually.”

“and i’m here!” he replies before sheepishly adding. “that’s a coincidence. i was going to go visit you—well, before i forgot.”

“really,” your stomach traitorously flutters. “what for?”

“to give you something,” he says breezily, sam digs around in his pant pockets, seemingly looking for something. “i swear i have the thingy in here somewhere..”

you watch as he fumbles around looking for the thingy. Your mind drifts to the scrunched up bouquet sitting in your pack. you hadn’t expected running into him so soon—

maybe, you think. you aren’t as ready as you think.

“ahh, here it is!”

sam fishes out a rectangular shaped object from his back pocket, its slim and clear. you tilt your head in curiosity and he smiles wider.

“a cassette of the band’s song,” he tells you, grabbing your limp hand to stuff it into your palm. “listen to it! you have a cassette player on your farm, right?”

the momental brush of his hand against yours has you stumbling over your mess of thoughts and feelings. it is a little pathetic, to be acting like a lovesick teenager again—you groan to yourself. “yeah, i do.”

the cassette is light in your palm, the hard plastic case is covered in sharpied lightning bolts and smiley faces—along with the careful engraving of your name. the hand drawn designs are wonky and childlike (you suspect he asked vincent to draw them), but it’s yours.

he made this for you.

you feel the giddy warmth spread all throughout your body—concentrated in your chest and stomach which twists with some emotion you’re too confused to name.

“i couldn’t find you after the performance,” he confesses. you peek up from the cassette at his face—his cheeks are bright pink with bashfulness. “it was too crowded, i wanted to give you the first sample recording.”

standing on willow street in front of his family house with the sun beating down on you, sweat dripping down your temple, flowers haphazardly stuffed into your backpack. you’re literally buzzing with energy—the warmth, inside and out, is making your head spin.

you feel your mouth moving before you can even register what you’re saying, feverish words tumble out.

voice a tad strangled, you rasp. “sam.”

he looks down at his skateboard, his attention; short and slipping away. “yeah?”

“be my boyfriend.”

“sure!” he pauses, processing what you said, his eyes whip back up to stare into yours—wide and so, so blue. “waaait.. wuuh—”

“i was—uh, do you want to know why i wanted to visit you today?” you ramble on, tracing the cassette case edges with sweaty fingers. the beat of your heart is a resounding thumping sound in your eardrums. “actually, this is not how i planned things, but got nervous, you make me nervous.”

you shrug off your backpack, the heavy weight of it that once was grounding you groaned as it hit the ground. you open the flap and produce the now crumpled flowers—stems bent and broken, petals missing but the smell is still overwhelmingly sweet. you hold out the bouquet to him with shaky fingers, the cassette held in your other hand clasped behind your back.

“—i wanted to make this a little more special…” you sigh nervously, eyes squeezed shut while your bottom lip is chewed between worrying teeth. “it’s all crumpled, sorry…”

“i think this is plenty special already.”

you feel as he moves closer, plucking the flowers out of your hands. now, there’s barely any space between the both of you. your eyes snap open, mouth slightly gaping as he takes a long sniff full of flowers.

your heart sings for joy as he does—but the concerningly wet sneeze he lets out makes you furrow your brow in realization.

he’s goddamn allergic.

your eyes widen, reaching for the flowers. “sam, you’re allergic to pollen!”

your fingers barely brush the stems when he pull the flowers away from you. sam laughs, bright and pure—one that sounds like it came deep from his gut. you flush deeper in embarrassment, and a little in confusion.

“so? you gave me these. i like them!”

“i can’t believe it slipped my mind,” you cringe. “don’t keep them! the stems are all twisted and broken anyway.”

he sneezes again, shaking his head petulantly, his nose pinkened with irritation, a small sound of mortification exits your mouth. how can you be so forgetful?

digging through your backpack, you grab the small pack of tissues you usually use to dab off sweat easily. you take one out of the pack and stretch it out towards him.

instead of your offered tissue, sam grabs you by the wrist, tugging you to him. you follow with not much of a fight, a confusing mixture of nervous and giddy energy you’ve become. he holds you still against him, his arms coming behind you to wrap the both of you together tightly.

you go limp against him, head buried his shoulder. you think, you fit together perfectly.

“by the way, i like you too.” he murmurs into your hair. “a lot more than you think i do.”

“even if i forgot you were allergic to flowers?”

he snorts, leaving a chaste peck on your forehead, you feel your cheeks flush. “especially because you forgot, it was kinda funny.”

your head shoots up, nearly bumping his chin. “sam!”

he laughs and you can’t help but smile in return. your gaze returns to the sky, and suddenly you can’t quite recall what you were so worried about. really, life in stardew valley has never been so bright.

(and if you see some of your neighbors watching at the corner of your eye, you shut your eyes to ignore them.)

[writer-by-the-sea]

...d...do you have...an audio clip of...you saying everything will be okay... -puts my fingers together like an anime girl-

I hope you like it.

VOLUME WARNING

Did you enjoy this? Feel free to request more things like this!

Also, if you would like to send me a little gift, you can do so here (Amazon).

Script below if needed.

Warning, I sound nothing like Elliott.

Enjoy!

Script Below if needed.

Hey, are you alright? 

I got here as soon as I could, you sounded–

No no, it’s okay, I’ve got you, I’ve got you. 

Please don’t cry– 

You’re safe now, you’re safe here.

I know, I know.

Just close your eyes, my love. 

Focus on my voice and relax. 

I won’t leave you, I promise. 

That’s it, honey, just let it out. 

Everything is going to be okay, sweetheart… I’m here now. 

Try this for me; 

Take a deep breathe in, 

1, 2, 3, 4, 5

And breathe out slowly.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 

Again.

In 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

And out 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 

Once more, baby, you’re doing so well. 

1, 2, 3, 4, 5

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 

There, do you feel better? 

Can you tell me what happened?

………….

……………

Sigh 

That’s really tough… it must have been so hard.. 

I’m so proud of you, darling. I know calling me was scary, but sometimes it makes a huge difference to reach out when you need help. 

Please listen to me when I say this… 

You are so strong. 

You are beautiful inside and out. 

You have the power to take control of your life. 

And this fear, this pain that you feel; will pass, my love. 

It may not be today, tomorrow, or even next week 

But time truly heals all wounds. 

Heh oh my love, I know it sounds ridiculous. 

Take it from an old man like me, I have battled through hell and back; yet here I stand beside you.

And I will always be here for you.

No matter what. 

Even if you push me away, break my heart, or eat the last pomegranate. 

I am here, always waiting to take your hand and guide you through this. 

Today was just a bad day, and it will pass. 

Stay strong, my love. 

When you’re in a bad spot, just remember to breathe, and know that no matter where you are, I’m right beside you, cheering you on.

Heh ah, I love seeing you smile. 

Thank you for giving me a chance, baby.

Let’s lie down and relax, you deserve it. 

[randomhatthief]

[thebiggerbear]

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe." - SDV Alex Prompt Response

Summary: Alex sees something through your window one night and it scares him silly. You have to explain to him that it's pretty normal out here on the farm and there is nothing to fear. ...Well, you were pretty sure there wasn't, anyway.

Pairing: SDV Alex x Female!Reader; SDV Alex x Female!Farmer

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. Alex is the only other character I've married in the game (I usually marry my girl Leah and well, I married Shane once but I'm still traumatized by the empty pizza boxes so like fight club, I don't talk about it) and he's such a cutie. This scene immediately popped into my head for the prompt line.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 1187

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

You can also read on AO3

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Soldier Boy version ✨ Beau version ✨ Dean version ✨ Jenny version ✨ Tom version ✨ Jason version ✨ Anael version

“Ahhhh, Y/N!”

You woke up with a start, immediately sitting up and glancing around the room. You spotted your husband running back to your bed from the window, a look of terror in his face. Before you could ask what was wrong, he leapt under the covers and burrowed himself under his pillow, the linens trembling. Beyond being confused, you glanced around the room again, seeing a green face in the window staring back at you. You jumped and then realized just who you were looking at. You silently cursed yourself for leaving your sword in the other room. She gave you a toothy smirk before flying off, her cackles being heard through the thin-paned glass. 

You shook your head and sighed, turning to glance at the shaking lump next to you. “It’s alright, honey. She’s gone.”

An eye peeked out from under the blankets. “W-What?”

You pulled the blanket back over his head, smiling. “She’s gone,” you repeated. “You can come out now.”

Alex lifted up, warily glancing around, his hair sticking up adorably. “She?”

You smiled and sat back against the headboard, reaching over to run your fingers through his hair. “The witch.”

Alex turned around and sat next to you, placing his shoulder next to yours. “You say that like it’s normal.”

You shrugged. “She flies around here sometimes and she likes to curse animals, people.”

Alex glanced over at you in alarm.

Your grin grew. “You don’t need to worry about her, silly. She usually leaves us alone.” Your smile started to fade when you thought back to what The Wizard had asked you to do a couple of months back. “Then again, I did take The Wizard’s Magic Ink after bribing the Goblin to get into her hut when she wasn’t there.” You bit your lip in thought before you turned a reassuring smile onto your husband. “But that was months ago.”

“Again, you say all of that like it’s normal.” He shook his head before studying you intently. “Are you sure she’s not upset with you because of this ink you took or whatever?”

You shrugged. “Not one hundred percent sure but pretty close.” You weren’t too worried about it. For the most part, The Witch left you alone. A few of your chickens couldn’t say the same but that was a small price to pay considering.

Alex slowly nodded, mulling it over and glancing back at the window. He then suddenly sat up a little straighter and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into him. “Yeah, well, if she comes back for you, babe, she better think twice. Or she’ll have me to deal with.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from teasing him that he had been hidden under the blankets not that long ago when you and The Witch were engaged in a staring contest. Instead, you smiled, touched at the words and the gesture your husband was trying to make. “Thanks, honey,” you murmured. “But we’ll be okay.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We will.”

He held you for a little bit longer, rubbing your arm, before you both settled back down under the covers. You were content to lie there with your head on his chest and him rubbing your back. You were completely relaxed, ready to think about falling back asleep when you heard “Sleep. I”ll keep you safe.” 

You dug your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from chuckling and instead, you smiled and hugged him tighter. “Love you, honey,” you whispered.

“Love you, too, babe.” You heard an adorable yawn follow and his ministrations on your back began to slow. It wasn’t too long before you heard a tell-tale snoring under your ear. 

You gently disentangled yourself from his arms, got out of bed, and tiptoed into the main room. You grabbed your sword and hurried back into the bedroom, the chill of the night air infecting the floor and nipping at your bare feet. You set the sword down carefully within your reach and then got back into bed, noting the cat had joined you, all curled up at yours and Alex’s feet, staring wide-eyed at the window, almost as if on sentry. You nearly laughed at the sight, knowing that while you were intent on making sure your husband felt safe enough to get a good night’s sleep on your farm, your pet was also practically guarding you both. 

You shook your head, chuckling under your breath, before you gingerly settled yourself back into your husband’s arms. His snoring cut off for a moment and he tightened his arms around you, pulling you in closer, before it resumed…right in your ear. You smiled and pressed a kiss to his covered chest, laying your head back down to sleep. It wasn’t long before you were drifting off, The Witch’s cackle echoing somewhere far off as you did. You simply wrote it off as you starting to dream.

And if there was another Void Chicken on your farm the next morning and your husband turned wide eyes on you as he saw it while attempting to give you a hand with feeding the animals, you decided that it was simply what The Witch had done before Alex caught sight of her the night before. And when Alex moved a little closer to you, sticking to you like glue for the next hour, half-protective, half-scared, you figured a visit to The Wizard might be in order a little later that day. If he couldn’t help you, then you’d be making the journey to The Witch’s hut again, intent on settling the matter once and for all.

You didn’t mind The Witch but if your husband didn’t feel safe (and your animals certainly weren’t), then you were intent on doing whatever it took to restore that feeling for him. Especially since, you were pretty sure that you had some important news to tell him in the next day or so, once you had seen Harvey at the clinic to confirm your suspicions.

You surprised him with a hug and smiled, leaning up for a kiss. He smirked and gave you one before you both glanced out over the farm you had built that now belonged to both of you. You watched as the sun continued to warm the sky and paint the horizon in all kinds of colors. You’d seen plenty of sunrises on your own but sharing ones like these with Alex were beyond special. You were grateful that you’d chosen to make the move to Pelican Town and that you found him. You two were building a life together and no disgruntled witch was going to ruin that, not if you had anything to say about it.

“I love you, Alex,” you murmured to him, still staring at the sky. You felt him kiss the side of your head. “I love you, babe.” You smiled and laid your head on his shoulder, feeling him gently lay his head on top of yours. Your grandpa had been right; this was just how life should be.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this character.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

banner by @cafekitsune

[kaitsawamura]

"Look. There's magic all around you. You just have to be brave enough to reach out and touch it."

🪞 🔮 🍅 🧺 🍯 🌱 The Farmer and The Wizard | A Stardew Valley AU starring Wizard!Gojo Satoru x Farmer!Reader

[antarcticsloth]

Guess who wrote a fic where Qi is a stalker and not a good person at all?! Seriously though, this is the most fun I've had writing in a while. I hope you like the fic!

[2willowlane]

i'm running out of stuff to put here as a good filler. anyways, love harvey. yeah.

gender-neutral reader, sfw, established relationship

harvey was neither an early bird, nor a night owl. somehow finding a comfortable medium between the those two active hours, his scheduled called for him to allocate his time; rather, staying up late to finish reports, and waking up to then start the day anew again. falling victim to those habitual practices, the doctor always found the hours bleeding into the afternoon to be the most productive part of his day. either if it's because of the appointments booked during those times, or whenever the coffee starts to kick in; there was something he could just ever-so easily rely on to remind him of the fact that this was all real.

it may have just been a bit too simple and mundane at times for the brunette, but harvey still persevered. if he ever woke up, of which he normally does, before the farmer's 6 am schedule, he'd normally surprise them with a hearty breakfast and a sweet kiss. sometimes, he thinks that he doesn't need caffeine to help him get through his days; all he needs is to just grace your lips with his, and he's already smitten; in thought of you.

however, he didn't wake up in time to do any of that. searching around for his eyeglasses on the nearby nightstand, feeling for that familiar figure, he then puts them on; as he is blind as a bat without one (though, he'd argue that those creatures have impeccable vision--in contrary to his). on days like these, he'd try to move out of the covers, trying to not rouse you out of your sleep. you needed it, and plus, it was always ever-so endearing for him to see you so, so comfortable in bed. harvey didn't ever want you to think that all of your hard work has ever gone to waste, and even if you'd ever tend to daydream about what it'd be to live in another life, he'd fully understand--however, with his stay here on the farm, he'd need to think about it over again.

some people say that you'd always want what you never have, and that you should be careful for what you've wished for.

tossing his body to the side of the bed, he'd then sigh, as he was then lost in his thoughts again. a schedule helps stabilize his purpose, though, with harvey knowing how packed and busy one can be, maybe he can take it easy today. even if he was looking forward to surprising you today.

well, maybe later, then.

the doctor does tend to a small plotted garden out front, next to the farmhouse. even though your love does indulge in gardening every now and then, mainly just for his eye for seasonal decoration, he grew some of your favourite crops that were in-season for the fall. he isn't the most well-versed in the realm of cooking, although, he knows enough about certain dietary topics to be informed well. making sure that you'd get the most nutrients from the selection of either greens, fruits, or vegetables (or, a mishmash of either three together), he'd do his best to blend the flavours accordingly so.

if there was anything that he took any sense of immense pride in, other than his work, then it had to have been cooking for you. your husband wouldn't consider it a chore, rather, something he rather looks forward to every day! whilst he does like to take you out to the stardrop saloon every now and then, it filled his heart with such raw affection, seeing that look on your face (right before he smothers it with kisses. oh, how your laugh does a plethora of indescribable things to that man...).

once harvey sits up properly, he knew that you were out of the house already. with him adjusting to the light, albeit, the sleep inertia's getting to him, he checks to then see a written note; underneath a warm mug of coffee. it was funny how he didn't quite register the smell of one of his all-time favourite beverages (was he getting a cold? how ironic of him). moving the cup to the side, and then smirking at the endearing circular imprint it then left on the small letter, he then presented it to himself; reading it between his thumb and index.

it detailed about how you found him adorable in his sleep, of which made him feel flattered, and then talked about how equally as cute his gentle snores were. harvey mumbled a soft "oh, you didn't have to go that far...," under his breath, addressing no one, but still knowing that was the reaction you expected out of him.

when harvey finished then reading about how you had a busy day ahead of him, and how you'll make it up later, you signed it off with you saying you loved him; followed by your name, and little heart symbol marked with pen. flipping the note between his fingers to see if there was anything else, he wasn't met with anything much.

harvey could feel how his grin with digging into his face, as he then was about to get up; to at least change into other clothes, shave if he needed to, and get more comfortable. however, a certain family cat decided to go against what was on his agenda for the day--as it than began to settle between his legs; making itself comfortable. there wasn't much that could be done, if you had a kitty laying on you. deciding to then accept his fate, harvey gave in; giving the little devil its well-needed (wanted) affection and attention.

[palladium-poisoned]

aaaaaaa i want to play fields of mistriiiaaaaaaaaaa

but i am doing other thiiinnngggssssssssssss

i want to kiss the dragon............. i am a dragon kisser they know what they did putting a dragon in this game

[nomazee]

silly silly

sebastian (sdv) x gn reader

word count: 2.1k

content: pining (mutual...), AGGRESSIVE pining, reader is smitten and in love, stream of conciousness/ramble type of writing, romantic tension (unresolved), cute and will maybe make ur stomach hurt from anxiety (i have my ways) (i’m lying)

notes: omg hey guys so i wasn’t lying about the stardew valley delusion and now i’m so deep in that i wrote this in a haze last night and posted it to my ao3 and now im posting it here. please enjoy. my heart and soul (my rotted brain) went into this it’s the beginning of my magnum opus 

part 1 (you are here) part 2 part 3

<><><><><>

You’re gonna kiss him silly. By the end of the night, you totally are.

It’s something you decided since before you showed up at this jellyfish-festival thing. You barely even know what it’s all about, really—the note from Demetrius didn't say much other than the fact that it was happening tonight, and you should come, and it’s beautiful and all the jellyfish are going south for the winter (like they’re a flock of birds, you think absurdly), and it’s down at the beach at 10pm. You weren’t exactly up to asking him more about it, seeing as it would be awkward to do that and then kiss his step-son on the mouth right in front of him that same night.

That was the plan. Kiss Sebastian on the mouth. It was going to happen and there was kind of nothing anyone could do to stop it (except Sebastian himself, reasonably). You’d like to think you’d gotten close enough to him to let this sort of thing happen. But then again, Sebastian is a special enigma, like a specter floating around on his own path, invisible to the things around him (or at least, trying to be invisible. He’s not invisible to you, never ever ever. You’re too painfully aware of him to let go of that).

Your mind is running with too many thoughts. It’s dark on the beach, and the wood of the dock creaks faintly beneath your feet as you approach where he stands with Sam and Abigail. Vaguely, you wonder how much they’d mind if you yanked Sebastian away from them to give him a kiss. A big fat whopping breath-stealing mind-turning stomach-aching kiss.

You’re going crazy. This whole thing is crazy. You say hi to the three of them and pretend like you’re not plotting this whole thing in your head. They seem none the wiser to your conflicts, and give you amicable greetings as you shift closer to where Sebastian is standing.

He almost blends in with the rest of the night, all black hair and black clothes, but the torches on the dock light him up just enough for you to see his skin and eyes and smile as he glances at you. You greet him, no smile on your part, but a sweet sort of look in your eyes that you hope he’ll catch onto soon. (You don’t think he does.)

He makes space for you to stand next to him, between some empty box and the odd warmth of his body. You take the offer. You’re standing, next to him, so close that you can almost smell the tea tree oil of his shampoo wafting off of him. You think you’re going crazy. You’re going crazy. You look at him, and he looks at you.

Sebastian has a serious look in his eyes, eyebrows furrowed and lips downturned. “I thought I saw something moving in there… something big. Something dark.” You nearly nod along to whatever he’s saying from habit. There’s a second or two where you realize how absurd his words are, and he sees it in your face because he goes, “Just trying to scare you.”

Now he’s teasing you, a smile and a fun kind of glint in the way he does it. The thought crosses your mind to warn him, tell him that he shouldn’t play jokes with you like that because it might make you kiss him silly on this beach before the stupid jellyfish even get here. Then you wave the thought away, because really—that wouldn’t be the final straw. The final straw has been broken for days now. Even weeks. Maybe since the first day you spoke to him and he talked so incredulously about how you could’ve picked Pelican Town as a place to live, but you’d like to think you have more self control than to let a love-at-first-sight kind of deal happen like that.

“You’re funny,” you say back, and you hope it doesn’t sound too strangled. “I think I almost believed you.”

“Really? I didn't expect that. I thought you would’ve called my bluff.”

You could tell me anything and I would believe you, you want to tell him. You could tell me there’s a monster in the sea. You could tell me you made the sun and the stars and the moon and the clouds. You could tell me you’re a jellyfish. I would totally believe you.

You don't say any of that. Because that would be embarrassing. Sam says something, and then Abigail says something, and then Sebastian is turning himself around to talk to them now. Sam and Abigail are nice, and you’re close enough to them where if you joined into their conversation it wouldn’t be awkward or unwelcome.

But there’s something telling you to stay quiet. Anxiety, maybe, fear of saying something stupid and ruining every friendship you’ve made in this town. It’s a crazy hyperbolic thought but it’s enough to make you keep your mouth clamped shut. It’s fine. You listen and turn your head to them and nod along with whatever they say, something about the jellyfish being poisonous and how bad would it be if you reached your hand in and grabbed one, and—?

“It’s starting!” Someone says distantly, and your head snaps back to face the ocean just as lights glow from underneath and the forms of sea creatures illuminate themselves. It’s beautiful. It really, really is beautiful, and you think that you should’ve taken everyone’s word that this was a wonderful event, something you really shouldn’t miss out on, something gorgeous and unimaginable and isn’t it crazy we get to see this every year?

The glow pulses bright enough for you to see more of Sebastian’s face from beneath the darkness of the night. You glance to the side, slowly and subtly (or at least, you hope so). His eyes are bright, and just a little bit wider, and there’s a twitch of his mouth as if he’s holding back a smile. As if he would be embarrassed to let it show how much he likes seeing this.

He smiles, big this time, and it’s one of those downward smiles where the corners of his mouth are tucked in and his cheeks are flushed and you are going to kiss him. You are totally going to kiss him, right now, because now he’s looking at you and the smile still hasn’t left his face and you hope you’re not unsettling him by how you’re ignoring the jellyfish at this point just to stare at him.

Sebastian is not unsettled. At least, not outwardly. He’s staring back and it’s soft now. And his stupid smile is still there. It hasn’t moved, hasn’t changed the way that his gaze had, and you hope it’s not because he has the same affinity for you that he has for the jellyfish. You’d like to be more than the jellyfish, maybe.

You’d like to be more. A little more. And you think, just a little bit more time, and you could kiss him. You could kiss him tonight. You could.

You don’t. Your head turns back to the ocean and you’re shocked at the level of self control you just displayed. It’s almost unbelievable. This whole plan, this whole dream had been built up over weeks now and here you were, being patient. It’s uncharacteristic. You wonder. Wonder wonder wonder.

From beside you, Sebastian doesn't deflate, but there’s a moment of hesitation before he turns to face the same direction as you. Maybe he understands. Maybe he knows. You hope he doesn’t know. You hope this is your own secret to keep.

Minutes pass, and the ceremony ends. The rest of it is nothing short of incredible and wonderful and spectacular and every word you could possibly use to describe it. Your legs buzz from disuse as you push yourself to stand up. (You don’t notice Sebastian hesitating to stick a hand out for support before pulling it back to his side.)

“I like this place,” you say absentmindedly, and suddenly everyone is turned to you—not just Sebastian, but Abigail and Sam and maybe even Vincent from further up the dock. “This was really nice. Thank you all for letting me stay here.”

There’s a pause, and you can’t believe any of that just came out of your mouth. It was cheesy and sappy and insane. This night has rotted your mind so much it’s starting to ooze out of your mouth. You hate this town. You love it. You let them know.

“Of course, man!” Sam is exuberant, and he smiles at you. “I guess at first it was weird having someone new here, because no one new ever comes here. But you’re great. And you’ve done so much for all of us. Really.”

Abigail nods along, a firm gesture paired with this triumphant sort of smile that makes your chest warm. “Really. Like, yeah, maybe it sucked having my old hang-out place taken over by a stranger.” (Sam elbows her. She yelps indignantly.) “But you’ve kind of made it worth it. Thanks for everything, too.”

It’s sweet. It’s all so sweet it makes your teeth ache and your head ache and your stomach ache. You’re hit with a sudden need to go home, and it’s the first time you’ve really felt like you knew where home was. It’s weird. Your legs ache, now.

Your head is muffled. You think you nod to all of them and you hope the appreciation and care in your eyes is enough to make up for your stunted responses. People are packing up and going home. Sam and Abigail give some sort of look in your direction, not unkind, but unusual, and suddenly Sebastian is thanking you for the night and asking to walk you home. You want to kiss him. Kiss him. Hold his hand and kiss him and trace his palm and maybe throw him into the ocean with the possibly-poisonous jellyfish remnants.

It’s quiet as he walks you home. Faintly, you realize how out of character this is for him. But this whole night has been full of out-of-character things for you and him and everybody. This is so weird. You’re going crazy. You’re going to kiss him.

Or, you think, for sure, that you’ll kiss him even if it wasn’t in front of the docks or the jellyfish or his friends—you think, for sure, the rest of this night is going to be made up of you kissing him silly on your doorstep and then collapsing in your bed and moving back to the city in shame.

But. But but but. But. There is something. And you don’t know what it is. And you don’t know if he’d kiss you too, but maybe. But. But but but. You don’t.

You’re at your doorstep. You thank him. And now, you are both waiting expectantly at your door for something to happen. You need to make it happen. Now. You need to kiss him and you won’t move and your stomach is aching and you think maybe you have a shellfish allergy.

“I feel sick.” It’s not a lie, and you really are two steps away from throwing up on his shoes and you really, really don't want that to happen—if you throw up on his shoes, then you’ll never be able to kiss him, because every time you reach for him he’ll be struck by the memory of you splattering vomit all over his sneakers and then he’ll ask you politely to move back to Zuzu City and never look back. (You think this is accurate.)

“Get to bed,” he tells you, and you’re shocked to hear him speak after so long. “It’s been a long night.” He’s polite, he’s kind, he’s so so kind that it’s stabbing you in the chest and twisting around your insides and why couldn't you just kiss him like a normal person?!

Okay, you think you say. Okay okay okay. His brow is furrowed and his lips are downturned but not in that odd smiley way of his. He’s just worried, now, and you think you’re going to be sick, for real this time.

You don’t tell him goodnight, but the slam of the door in his face is probably enough of a signal. You’re embarrassed. You didn't even kiss him. You can’t even tell if this night is a success or not. Kitty walks across your feet and looks up at you as if she knows what kind of clusterfuck of a night you just had. What a little shit. You let her follow you to bed and sit on your chest while her deep breaths lull you to sleep.

You didn't kiss him. What a wreck. What a joke. You’ll kiss him tomorrow for sure. Kiss him silly.

[tiredf-o-u-r]

Smoke Me Out, Please.

Sweet little one-shot where Shane and Male Farmer abuse substances and get together, my first post on ao3 OR read under the cut ;)

Fandom: Stardew Valley

Pairing: Shane x Male Player

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: Dubious (intoxicated) consent, alcohol, marijuana, accidental voyeurism, hooking up, frottage, oral sex, hopeful ending <3

Words: 8040

It started with a chance meeting on the pier. They went back to the farmhouse to continue the pity party.

They were sharing everything, Shane’s beers, the farmer’s weed, stories, memories, secrets, until they were sharing the couch, mouths intertwined. It was a shame, really. Shane had spent months burying his feelings for the farmer, no matter how small. He had put in so much work rejecting all his attempts at friendship, all to throw it away in one night.

He pulled back suddenly

“Ah, fuck!” Shane looked at his leg, where a lit piece of ash from the joint in the farmer's hand fell onto his bare leg.

“Shit…” the farmer ashes it properly, then puts it to his mouth again. Shane looked up at him, slightly annoyed, and matched his action by finishing the last swig of his beer. He leaned back on his hands and tipped his head back, looking up at the ceiling and shaking his hair out, sighing through his nose. When he dropped his gaze back to the farmer, even through how buzzed he was, he felt a pang in his heart, like he was crossing a moral line. If only it wasn’t so fun.

“How old dya say again?”

“…23”

Another sigh…

“God, if you’re getting this bent over a few years maybe you really are an old man. It’s not so bad.” The farmer said, amusing himself. Shane just scoffed.

“A few….a dozen….barely a difference at all, huh?”

The farmer took another puff of the joint and put it down so he could start crawling on top of Shane. He let his legs stay open, the farmer filling the space slowly until they were face to face.

“Don’t you want me?”

Shane’s eyes ran all over his face, and he swallowed. Caught out.

“Then what’s the issue…”

The farmer leaned up then, connecting their lips again. Shane leaned on the back of the couch, holding the farmer's face in his hands now and tilting his head to taste him from every direction. The farmer gave it right back, trying his damnedest to run his tongue all around Shane’s teeth, when he wasn’t pliantly accepting Shane’s sloppy, urgent kiss.

“Fuck, Shane…wanna touch you…”

The farmer said, when they pulled back for air. He was grabbing himself, clearly hard. Shane mimicked the move, slowly moving his hand to himself, to find that he was also hard. His eyes shut, lips parting as he gasped. Shane looked back up at his face, still trying to catch his breath from the suffocating kiss.

“I…you…” His hazy eyes flicked between the farmer’s. He looked cocky. It made Shane feel small, here on his couch, in his house, underneath him and completely at his mercy. It was a feeling Shane hated. Being treated like the little man. What he didn’t know was how much the farmer enjoyed it when he told him off. It made winning him over all the sweeter.

“Get the fuck on with it then.”

The farmer wasted no time throwing a leg over Shane’s, so they were basically scissoring, but it got the job done well enough; their clothed boners made contact. He let out an open mouthed moan out right against Shane’s mouth, and started grinding against him hard. The smell of beer on his breath made Shane groan and shove his tongue back in his mouth to get a taste. It was like all his vices were wrapped up in one perfect beauty, begging to have him. He let Shane suck on his tongue, only able to focus on the motion of his hips.

“Gaaaahhhuhhhhh… Shhaanne…don’t make me wait anymore…” the farmer slurred, sticking a hand down his pants to touch himself. Shane enjoyed the show for a moment: the farmer with his eyes closed, breathing hard, hand moving sharply under his pants, sweat pouring from his hairline. Shane sat up, holding the farmers face still with one hand, and licked from his jaw up the side of the farmers face and across his temple, licking his lips after to savor the salty taste. The farmer groaned in disgust, but cut himself short as he was being moved back by Shane’s hands on his hips. Then he was slipping his shirt over his head and laying him back on his back, the sleepy look on his face making Shane hesitate, realizing just how much drunker than himself he was. Shane looked over to the table, and plucked the joint up, puffing on it while he sat back on his knees. He slipped his hoodie off, and started unbuttoning his polo, looking over the farmer’s shirtless body as he took the last few hits off the spliff. It’s not…wrong…if they’re both fucked up, right?

The farmer let his eyelids hang heavy over his blown out irises. He was smirking as he watched Shane loom over him, checking him out and grabbing himself while he smoked. The farmer reached out his hand to stroke Shane’s arm, admiring the muscles he so rarely gets to see.

Shane flicked the rest of the joint away, and moved to continue undressing the farmer. He let him, and even got Shane to remove everything, thanks to the high in his head and dick overpowering his self-consciousness. Once that was done, Shane crawled over him, pushing their dicks together and resting his body weight into it, making them groan in unison at the heavy contact. Shane had his hands planted on either side of the farmer’s head, with the farmer’s fingers delicately holding onto his wrist. He rubbed his hips in a circle, gasping again, and looked down at what he was doing. He had expected something different from being with a man for the first time, but even while watching how his partner’s foreskin stroked over his dick at Shane’s motions, he couldn’t distinguish what was so different between the feeling of his soft skin or a woman’s as long as it was pleasing his dick. The farmer’s increasingly higher pitched noises helped him along. Shane looked back to his face to see it tipped back, sticking his jaw out and exposing his neck completely. Shane dropped to balance on his elbows now, thrusts becoming shorter and faster as he attached his mouth to the farmer’s neck mercilessly. He gasped out suddenly, and his arms flew to grasp at Shane’s back, nails digging into his back; holding on for the ride. Shane was sloppily running his mouth across the farmer’s neck, slobbering all over him and administering pinching bites randomly, drawing out whiny “ah“‘s from the farmer each time. Then Shane was moving down, attaching his lips and teeth to one spot just below the farmer’s collarbone, already bruising the thin skin. The farmer was panting hard and sweating harder, his dick losing contact with Shane’s as he moved down. He continued to grind their bodies together, feeling his insides flip even through the euphoric haze at the feeling of Shane’s hard, leaking dick rubbing against and in between his thighs. His own cock was pressed between them, rubbing against Shane’s soft belly, where the fat there was lovingly molding to the shape of it. His body hair added an interesting texture, something that made the farmer feel hot all over and finally lose patience. He put his hands on Shane’s shoulders and shoved him back, hard. Shane couldn’t help but let his absolute shock play out on his drunken face. Not only at the amount of audacity, but also strength needed for that demonstration; something Shane did not expect from this tryst.

“Fuck, enough, please, just…just come here…” the farmer pulled Shane up with his hands on his ass to align their dicks again. He spit into his hand, and held their dicks together in it, squeezing and then stroking, moaning loud in relief, shamelessly letting his eyes roll back. Shane had his hands pressing into couch again, holding himself up while he straddled the farmer. His mouth was wide open, panting and gasping as their arousals combined. The farmer threw his head to the side, chanting curses as he moved his hand faster and faster. Shane rested his forehead on the farmer’s head, panting right into his ear, and started to tremble.

“Th that’s it…just ah fuck that’s it…”

“Please…please…fuck…”

He started twisting his wrist more and more violently, until Shane cried out, hips twitching forward and muscles clenching as he shot ropes all over them. He kept moaning, getting quieter and weaker as he kept thrusting against his hand though his release. The edge of Shane’s shaking body, wetness from his release, and throbbing dick still pressed against his own brought the farmer to his end, all but growling out a dirty “fuuuuuuck, Shane.” He grunted as Shane finally went completely limp on top of him, head resting next to his. They stayed like that as they drifted off, unwanting and unwilling to break the dreamy atmosphere they created.

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When the farmer woke up in his bedroom, the first thing he registered was the throbbing pain in his head. Then the late morning sun rays warming his face - something he’s never slept in late enough to see. Finally, he rolls onto his back, eyes still closed, and realizes he is sharing the bed with someone. Shit….was only a matter of time….please don’t be someone in this god forsaken town… He worked up the courage to face the person he had forgotten spending the entire night with, taking in the dark raven hair on the back of the man’s head. Did it have a purple tint to it? Shane.

He inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly. Fuck. It just had to be the one person he liked in this town, didn’t it? The farmer whispered,

“Are you awake?”

“…a bit”

The farmer sighed again. He couldn’t place how he was feeling about it all, but he had no intention of touching that now. There was really only one thing he wanted to do before he could decide anything else for the day.

“Sorry…I uh, gotta get up…”

He was getting out of bed, being sure to put the blanket back over Shane’s shirtless body, and started looking around the clothes on his floor for something to wear. Shane sat up on his side, still horizontal, eyes barely open, squinting at the farmers scurrying.

“What’s wrong?”

“Whatddya mean?”

“…sorry to keep you in so late…”

“No! No it’s…it was…I just have to get the daily chores done is all…”

Shane was sitting up more now, surprisingly alert all of a sudden, at the farmers apparent nervousness.

“I could help with the animals- I wouldn’t mind and it’s my f-“

“No, no, it’s…I was gonna do something else first, honestly.” The farmer rubbed the back of his neck, deciding that in his tired state he couldn’t keep up lying much longer- not to him. Shane was looking up at him in confusion, waiting for him to continue. The farmer sighed.

“Meet me outside if you wanna know.”

And he left the room. Shane flopped back down, trying to decode what the hell that meant. His head was beginning to throb; a near daily occurrence these days. It was making it harder for him to think about what the farmer's demeanor could mean. He sat up, rubbing his eyes and scanning the room for any clothes that were his. There were a lot of clothes around…and ashtrays.

When he got himself together and entered the front room, he noticed the front door was left open. He braced himself, and left the house, squinting at the harsh sunlight that hit his face. He started to smell cigarettes, so he followed his nose around to the small patio on the edge of the farm, by the fence. The farmer was there, sat down and leaning against the fence post, lit ciggy between his fingers. He flashed a sad sort of smile at Shane.

“Hey…uh…what’s up?” He said, trying to stay casual. He sat down in the grass, just in front of the small paved patch the farmer sat on. His gaze was cast down, his arms were wrapped around his stomach. “You doin alright…?” In all honesty, Shane was terrified of the answer the second he asked the question.

“I’m okay…this is just normal actually, heh…”

“…oh..?”

“I’m just really sick in the morning these days…” he was putting out his cigarette. Shane was watching the action, and couldn’t help but be reminded of how he felt in the mornings, even right now: like he could go for a drink.

Then the farmer was reaching behind one of the planter pots next to him, pulling out what looked like a yard decoration…or…a vase? Then he was pressing his mouth to the opening, and fiddling with something that was facing him. Shane could hear the lighter click, and some more noise until the farmer lifted his head, blowing smoke away from them.

Oh.

The farmer sighed, and took another deep drag, coughing hard after that one. Something about the bags under his eyes, the practiced ease in his actions, and the cough wracking his skinny body made Shane think that this has been going on long before last night. Then he considered the look on Marnie’s face when she sees him go into his room with another six pack for the night. He didn’t want to cause the farmer that kind of guilt - like someone was watching him take another step on his downward trek, unwilling to offer anything other than a helpless audience to their misery.

“Last night was uh..it was good for me, thank you for that…” The farmer started, carefully eyeing Shane’s face to gauge his reaction.

“Oh, uh, yeah…I…was starting to worry that I shouldn’t have let that happen…but um…I don’t regret it, only as long as you don’t…”

“I don’t regret it.”

“Alright then.”

Shane leaned back a bit, gazing over the property wistfully. Some part of his brain, however, was insisting that not only is it unlikely that this situation isn’t fucked, but also that it would of course be too good to be true. Someone he could talk with, drink with, and sleep with? That simply wasn’t Shane’s luck. He swallowed, looking down, deciding he needed to at least try to make sure.

“You wouldn’t say that if you didn’t mean it, would you? Because I wouldn’t blame you, really, and I wouldn’t tell a soul.” His stomach flipped shamefully, thinking about the farmer’s good reputation, and how badly he doesn’t want to fuck that up for him.

“…No, I don’t think I would. ‘M pretty sure I mean it.”

Shane considered his answer as he watched him take another hit. He coughed sympathetically, remembering the abuse his own lungs went through last night.

“Man…not feeling so great today either…buh…” Shane let his head hang, fingers coming up to rub his temples. When the farmer finished exhaling, he decided to offer his new friend the only coping mechanism he knew how to use.

When Shane looked up, the farmer had come closer to him, sitting right in front of him now, also on the grass. He was holding out his bong for Shane to take. He grabbed it, keeping the neck in his hand but resting the bottom on the ground; genuinely taking the object out of his friend's hand on instinct. It was rather heavy, and his arm immediately dropped when Shane relieved it. He just looked at the multicolored glass bong that was tilted up facing him, considering the offer. He bit the inside of his cheek, debating himself in his head. But when it really came down to it, all Shane’s degenerate brain could consider were two possibilities: leave, and drink alone until it’s time for work; or stay here, with the farmer, smoke his weed, and see where it takes him. He looked up at the farmer again. His eyes looked sleepy again, inviting. He wanted to meet him there.

“Gimme a light then.”

He scooted forward, closer to the farmer, hand high up on the neck of the bong, and watched him reach his arm out again to relight it for him. He lifted the bowl and Shane inhaled hard. The farmer enjoyed seeing Shane bent over holding something so lewdly shaped up to his mouth right over him like this; with the way his eyes were squeezed shut. He coughed out his exhale hard, making the farmer finally crack a grin. Sure Shane could outdrink him, but this was farmer’s territory. He lifted the still-lit bowl again, and Shane followed cue and took another hit, and tried to stifle another embarrassing cough. The farmer brought it to his own mouth then, taking a deep hit and exhaling to the side, watching as Shane sat back up, having caught his breath.

They look at each other hornily. The farmer’s eyes dragged across Shane’s body, lingering around the parts that felt the best under his hands. When his gaze reached his handsome face, he realized Shane was doing the same until they made eye contact. He looked back at the bong.

One hit left.

“Bout enough left for one more…want it?” The farmer offered. The relaxed timbre of his voice made it come out so effortlessly.

Shane relented, against his better judgment, and went to take the bong from the farmer's hand. Except, the farmer tugged it out of his grasp, and motioned for Shane to lean in even closer to him so he could inhale while the farmer held it for him. He was smiling easily: looking a little more comfortable in his own body now that he was under the influence. It made Shane feel something he didn’t want to touch, so against even his better judgment, Shane leaned in to take another bong rip. When his lips aligned with the hole, the farmer slid his hand up to hold the neck higher, finger now gently touching Shane’s unshaven chin. It made Shane instinctively inhale a bit, so he started sucking up the last of the smoke, eyebrows knitting together.

The look ignited the inevitable swell of arousal that the farmer always seems to experience no matter what kind of weed he smokes. He wanted to tell him to look him in the eye while he inhaled like that, just to see it, but the thought was cut short when he felt Shane balance himself against him with his hands on his knees, as he detached his mouth to fully inhale. Then the farmer was letting the bong tip over on the grass next to them, grabbing Shane’s chin and swiftly leaning in to kiss him. When he leaned back, he kept holding Shane’s face close to his like that while he exhaled the cloud of smoke. The farmer opened his mouth and inhaled it straight out of Shane’s mouth, other hand steadying him by the back of his neck now. He sucked Shane’s smoke into his lungs and blew out a substantially weaker cloud away from them.

Shane felt like he had been transported to a different time. A time in his life when he was brave, and alive, and daring, like the man who just pulled that move on him. Luckily, the thc flooding his brain spurred on how hard he was for the farmer in that moment, along with granting him some of his bravery.

The farmer leaned back on his palms to exhale, and take in Shane’s reaction. His mouth was hanging open in awe, hazy eyes locked on the farmer’s mouth, allowing them a moment to catch a good breath before Shane was pinning him to the ground, kissing him ravenously now.

Sighing happily through his nose, the blissed out farmer received Shane’s kisses as best as he could, until his kisses moved from his mouth to his lips to all around his face until he was more or less rubbing his warm, prickly face against his like a cat.

“Mmn~ gonna give me a rug burn?”

Shane pulled back, looking over the farmer's flushed face through his heavy eyelids. The corners of his vision were starting to get hazy, like his partner was the only thing his body could perceive. Through his tunnel vision was the farmer, face framed with the grass he was laying in. Truly a daydream of some upstanding citizen that Shane must have stumbled into. He leaned in, running his lips along his neck, beard still rubbing along the way.

“Something like that…”

Then he was kissing and biting, careless of what may leave a mark, drawing out lovely noises of pleasure from the farmer. It wasn’t long before they were interrupted, however, by a sound from behind them: someone clearing their throat.

“Ahem. Hey boys! Sorry to interrupt…”

A bright voice was cutting through their shared buzz, Robin. She was making eye contact with the farmer when he opened his eyes. Shane’s blood ran cold when he realized they were being caught.

“…but uh…but I just wanted to give you this! I ordered a few too many and wanted to drop it off so…I’ll just leave it here then.” Shane saw her placing the package on the deck as he rolled off the farmer.

“Oh…thanks Robin, that’s so kind.”

The slow cadence of the farmer's voice made Shane think he wasn’t too worried about it. Right now, at least. Robin assured him it was no problem, voice trailing off near the end of the sentence as her eyes caught the bong next to them. Fuck. Shane knew she had an aversion to her sons cigarette smoking, and his partying, so he could only imagine the conclusions she was drawing now as her eyes went between the bong, the red patches around the farmers lips and neck, and finally landing her eyes on him. Her tone changed.

“Hi, Shane. It’s uh…nice to see you’ve made a friend now. Don’t uh…don’t tire him out! Hah…” Robin rubbed the back of her neck and looked away, trying to play off her awkwardness. But something about the new farmer in town reminded her of her own troubled son, so he was now subjected to her mom instincts, however unsure they often were.

“Yeahhh…is that right Shane? ‘M I your special friend?” The farmer was wearing an easy smile, reaching out and petting Shane’s hair. He looked back in absolute shock, unsure at what the farmer could possibly be trying to achieve by this. He fell back on the only defense he had at his fingertips. He flicked the farmers hand away, and huffed, putting on an annoyed voice,

“Yeah yeah whatever. This kid won’t leave me aLONE, Rob, I swear, heh.” He said to Robin, gesturing back toward the farmer. He just smiled harder, and moved to straddle Shane’s leg and hugged him, making them both topple over on the grass.

“You have a lot of special friends, Shane?” He said into his neck, warm breath hitting Shane’s skin as the farmer started rubbing the tip of his nose against his neck to make Shane gasp. It felt like the blood in his veins had been replaced with fire, cold and hot at the same time from not wanting to embarrass them both in front of someone, and much more importantly, express a genuine emotion in front of a live witness.

“Ngh! Stop! Hhhh ‘s not…funny…”

His annoyance made the farmer giggle, the extra breaths only making Shane squirm more. He was sure Robin must be horrified by seeing this tender display, this boy climbing all over him to cuddle like a puppy.

“Right then…I’ll just leave you to it then…” Robin was slowly backing away, not exactly not horrified, but only out of surprise. Maybe Shane had more heart in him than she ever gave him credit for. And that farmer…I just hope they’re okay…

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“UGH. What’d you do THAT for, then?!”

Shane was still laying back on the grass, covering his eyes with his palms now; the farmer rolling off and laying next to him normally again once Robin left.

“Mmm?” He shrugged, looking up at Shane. He shot him a pissed look, as if to say, “the fuck does that mean?” The farmer rolled his eyes. It all made sense to him, and he knew it would to Shane too if he could read his mind. He was just too tangled up inside to figure out how to articulate it right now. He just sighed and got up, walking a short distance and looking in one of his chests before walking back. Shane could hear water sloshing in whatever he was carrying, but didn’t look, keeping his head flat on the ground and aimlessly staring at the sky stubbornly. Until the farmer came into his view, towering above him. He dropped something on the ground, leaning against Shane, and sat down next to him again. Shane raised his head to see the farmer filling the bong with water from his watering can, and repacking a bowl. Then he saw what the farmer left: a bottle of wine. He scoffed, but immediately sat up again.

His leg started bouncing. An obvious tell, but he let himself have it as he considered the farmer’s offer yet again. He was trying to be offended. What, you trying to get me drunk again? I really shouldn’t…I still have work…and I’m already so… the farmer was blowing smoke out, and rested his head back against the fence post again, hand resting on his crotch, drawing Shane’s gaze there. It became impossible for him to not stroke the wine bottle in his hand ever so slightly, not even realizing it.

“Just thought it might make you feel better…’m not trying to trick you or anything.”

The farmer mumbled after a few more moments of Shane just staring at it. He felt a small jolt of excitement when he heard him pop the cork and take a swig. Soon Shane was sitting with his back on the farmhouse, leaning in for the farmer to give him another hit from his bong. Shane willingly accepted the kiss/inhale trick when the farmer pulled it again, leaning back and kissing him back slow and deep. Then his hand was holding the back of the farmer's head, keeping their mouths pressed together, while the farmer got as close as possible on his hands and knees.

“D'ya wanna…?”

“Mhm…”

“Kay…” Shane tried to pull them both up to go inside, but the farmer stayed on top of him, yanking at his arm close to keep them there.

“Here?”

A cheeky grin and a nod.

“We can’t do it here…”

“Why not?”

Shane pulled back farther, looking at him confused again.

“You really have a short memory span, don’t you?”

“Do you think she’d come back here unannounced after seeing that? I thought she would THROW UP. Hopefully just everyone knowing you’re here’ll be enough for them to leave us alone…” The farmer said, and moved in to kiss Shane’s neck, which succeeded in his goal of distracting him from being offended, if only slightly.

“Uhgh! What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“You know…”

Shane couldn’t believe the nerve of this guy. And although he purposefully let out an “ah~” to show his approval when he felt the farmer's teeth graze against a pulse point on his neck, he was still resolved to fight his corner. With his hands on the farmer's shoulders, he peeled him off and held him back like their bodies might snap back together like magnets. The farmer wrapped his fingers gently around Shane’s arms which were locked straight, feeling like he was flirting with danger as he stroked Shane’s flexing muscles. His hoodie had been long discarded in the spring heat they were lounging in, displaying Shane’s strong masculine arms again.

“So I’m just that disgusting then, huh? You want me to guard the gate to keep the goodies away and then fuck me when you’re drunk and horny?”

“God Shane just……just stop worrying, ok? I’m not worried about it, you don’t need to worry about it.”

“About what?”

“Whatever the hell you’re worrying about!! It’s fine, Shane, and I don’t see you like that. I’m showing you how I feel. We don’t need to worry about anyone else…okay? You want it and I want it, and it doesn’t affect anyone else, so if we’re only hurting ourselves, then what’s the harm, right? You too good for that now?”

The last question stung enough to make Shane pause, just staring at the farmer’s face trying to force the words through his unwilling brain. The farmer reached his hand out, petting his hair like he did before. Shane’s eyes softened. The accusation made him feel sad, and he let his tired eyes close at the gentle touch. He was tired of holding them in focus, tired of holding himself accountable, tired of everything.

“Don’t wanna hurt you…”

“You won’t…”

“I have…”

“…I don’t care…I just want you…”

The farmer finally succeeded in bringing their mouths back together, so he did his best to put his heart into it. Accommodating Shane’s motions when he kissed back, licking his lips, the high in his head reconnecting with the pleasure in his stomach when he felt Shane’s tongue against his. Shane’s mind was still in a dark swirling storm, but he couldn’t help how his body naturally accepted the farmer’s words, relaxing into his embrace. It felt so right, and he did crave him so badly… He pulled back with a ridiculous smacking sound to speak.

“I wanna make it up to you…”

The farmer’s eyebrow quirked up.

“Yeah? And how do you wanna do that?”

“Whatever you want. I’d do anything…”

Shane’s heart pounded at his final confession. The thought started out innocent, but by the time it left Shane’s mouth was dripping in insinuation. Not to say he didn’t mean it - once the flirtation left his mouth, he felt his mouth water at the ideas that filled his mind.

“Yeah? Anything?”

Shane nodded, and placed another light kiss on his lips.

“Anything.”

The farmer grabbed himself through his pants, saying, “I have a few ideas” and stood suddenly, placing a hand on Shane’s head to keep him trapped against the wall. He groaned in response and looked up while he shifted from sitting to kneeling, back now bending at an uncomfortable angle to keep his head pressed to the wall, now in between the farmer’s legs. Shane’s head was spinning with excitement but he accepted the challenge, however out of his depth he might be. The farmer put his clothed bulge on Shane’s face, rubbing back and forth in response to the way Shane moaned and nuzzled against him obediently. Shane’s face started burning with embarrassment, and he wished he was a lot more drunk than he currently was. He was really gonna remember this. Shane had one hand braced on the farmer’s thigh, and the other one palming himself as he let the farmer keep grinding his face. It was getting hard to breathe with how he was pressing the side of his cock hard on his mouth, and Shane started to hope the farmer didn’t expect too much of him as he gasped for breath in between thrusts. He gave him some space to breathe when Shane put both hands on his thighs and pushed him away, sucking in a lungful of air.

“Fuck…that, that was too much…”

“That was so hot…” The farmer took a few steps back to give Shane some space, and took his cock out to start jerking it to full attention. “I’ll go slow…”

“Uh, yeah you will.”

The farmer bit his lip, trying to conceal how excited he was that Shane was still willing, thinking he may have gone too far letting himself lose control like that. Shane had his hand under his pants once he was steady, looking at the farmer pump himself as he did the same. It was working for him; and he did want to try it, he was just wholly unsure if he would be able to please him how he needed, being so inexperienced in sucking dick. The thought of how he already almost suffocated on it before he was even out made Shane have to remove his hand from himself to not start jerking at full force.

“Fuck man, I…I don’t know if I can do this-”

“Shhhh yes you can…”

The farmer cooed, stepping forward and placing his thumb against Shane’s lips until he opened his mouth, accepting the tip of the digit inside.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, you can do it…”

“No, I just mean… ‘nother drink might help…”

Shane’s eyes sparkled up at him as he spoke, eager to please, even going back to sucking on his thumb after he spoke. He felt cheap asking for it on his knees in front of this man, but hey, if the ends justify the means…The farmer scoffed in amazement.

“Yeah…yeah…just try to relax, that’ll help.”

He backed up again to allow them some space, patting the various pockets on his body until it hit the pocket on his chest. He pulled out something thin and white. He stuck it in his mouth and lit the end with a lighter, inhaling and exhaling a puff of smoke. Oh. He leaned down to place the joint in Shane’s mouth for him before he walked off to rummage through more chests. When he returned, he swapped the joint for another bottle, handing it to Shane and taking a hit.

They lost track of time between then and when the farmer found himself lying flat on his front, hands around Shane, leaning up to kiss him. Their shared buzz had blossomed into a thick high. The skin under their clothes where they were pressed together was getting sticky and damp as the morning turned to noon. They broke for air, and Shane leaned his head back on the farmhouse wall again, groaning when he felt the farmer slide down and rest his head directly on Shane’s dick. With the full weight of his head resting on it, he nuzzled his head, then turned to start pressing his lips and nose against his bulge.

“Hhhh-Hah…that’s….”

“Yeahhh…”

The farmer drew out the last word, blowing out as much hot breath over his thin gym shorts as he could. It made Shane’s stomach muscles flex hard, making him sit up more, looking down with his mouth open, eyes red and heavily lidded.

“Fuck, dude…”

“Yeah? You want it?”

“Yeahhh~”

The farmer kissed him again, licking into his mouth however he pleased, Shane’s tongue struggling to keep up until he pulled back enough to speak. “Lemme suck you off…then I’ll take that apology. How ‘bout that?”

“Mhm~” Shane moaned out, nodding enthusiastically.

The farmer slid his hand up to grab Shane’s dick.

“Get it out.”

Shane scrambled for his waistband, pulling down his shorts enough for his dick to pop out. He braced his hands on the ground, gripping the grass between his fingers. He could feel the blades of grass on his bare ass as well, prickly and a bit uncomfortable, but it reminded him of where they were and just how exposed he was in this moment, how willing he was to push his own limits and try something new for the farmer’s sake, but he let himself blame the substances clouding his brain for that. The farmer placed his hands on Shane’s bare thighs, leaned down and put his mouth on Shane’s cock, appreciating how his entire body jolted up a little in time with his desperate groan. He rubbed it with his parted lips up and down, then wrapped his lips around it and took the head onto his tongue. He ran his tongue all around the head, leaned back to spit on it, then took him deep enough to make himself gag. He came up gasping and put his hand on Shane, stroking his spit up and down his length. He looked back up to see Shane absolutely enthralled, looking down at him like he was inventing air. It made the farmer smirk hard, feeling cocky as all hell now, and put his mouth back on the tip as he stroked it. That’s right, chicken man, let me show you how it’s done in the big city…

“Gahhhh…God that’s so good…I can’t…”

The farmer moaned around the head, and continued stroking when he pulled back for some more air. Licking his lips, he dipped his head and poked at Shane’s balls with his tongue, giving in to every dirty urge he got. Shane moaned out a curse, and the farmer could hear blades of grass being ripped from the ground, predictably caught in Shane’s clenching fists. Despite the distinct sweaty smell and hair getting in his mouth, the farmer kept going, pulling his balls into his mouth and sucking, the surprised sound of pleasure from Shane making it all worth it. Pleased, the farmer started making a “mmm” sound around the balls in his mouth, the vibration overwhelming Shane and prompting him to shove the farmer back by his shoulders, then grab the back of his head when he still brought his face back to where his hand never let go of Shane’s hot cock.

The farmer situated himself over Shane’s lap again so he could lick the tip while he finished him off. He let it twirl around the head, and tried to make eye contact while he did it, but his eyes kept fluttering shut each time he swallowed. Shane was blown away, nearing his limit, and unable to tear his eyes away from the farmer’s sloppy performance. It was perfect. Had he not felt utterly helpless, he may have used the hand gripping the farmer’s head to push him down further, enough to satisfy him, but the slow build from the farmer’s unpracticed teasing had Shane teetering right on the edge, face scrunching like he was about to sneeze.

Then the farmer was coughing as wetness hit the back of his throat, shutting his eyes hard and keeping his lips sealed around the head as he kept stroking him. He swallowed rapidly and squeezed the pulsing vein under his thumb when he felt it twitch rapidly as Shane finished in his mouth. He was moaning unabashedly in time with his ragged breaths, then couldn’t help turning to higher pitched whining when he felt the farmer’s satisfied “mmmmmmmph~” sound as he slowly pulled off. He stroked some of the wetness off and wiped his hand on the grass before sitting back, rubbing the back of his neck that was beginning to get sore, and let out a dramatic

“aaaahhhhhh~ that was nice~”

When he looked back at Shane’s reaction, he was once again filled with bone-headed confidence when he saw Shane’s wrecked condition. Looking blazed out of his mind, sweat was glistening all over him, pretty mouth still open and panting. He pulled his shorts back up and sat up straighter against the wall.

“That was… fuck that was good. I don’t know if I can do all that for you…”

The farmer took his cue to stand up again, cradling the back of Shane’s head to guide it to rest against the wall as he stood over him again. Shane looked dizzy with affection from where he was, hands grasping the farmer's legs again as he rose to his knees to get face-level with his crotch. Still dying to give the farmer his very best, then they’ll be even. Yeah, that’s what it’s about…just paying a guy back…

“Don’t worry…just let me do the work, yeah?”

He had one hand working on freeing his own cock and placed the other on Shane’s face, hissing out “thaaaaaats it…” when Shane happily began sucking on the thumb the farmer had placed on his bottom lip. His eyes were shut, more of a reflex from trying to focus on his partner through the tornado in his mind, but also making it a surprise when he felt the farmers spongey tip against his face. Luckily Shane was loaded enough that his burning embarrassment easily turned pleasurable again, though he feared that he would still be remembering this quite clearly in the future.

The farmer moved to brace his hand against the wall, swiping his cock against Shane’s open mouth. The feeling of his hot wet tongue between the feeling of his coarse stubble against the farmer’s sensitive dick had him clenching his teeth and cursing. He swiped it across Shane’s face like that a bit more, making it a wet mess, reveling in the scratchy feeling.

“Okay…here…just stay like this…”

The farmer adjusted Shane’s mouth open so he could freely slide his dick in and out, rubbing against the inside of his cheek. Shane allowed it, eyes still shut, and did his best to keep his lips around him. He put his arms down, bracing them against his own legs, unknowingly performing a personal favorite for the farmer: no hands. He moaned loudly in appreciation, getting goosebumps when he heard his voice echo across his property. He threaded both hands around Shane’s head gently, and let his hips do the work, so the head was making Shane’s cheek stick out lewdly. The obedient display made the farmer wonder if Shane was unfairly drunker than he was, despite being so blazed himself that his mouth was now painfully dry. That, or the man beneath him was also genuinely getting off on letting the farmer fuck his mouth however he wanted for the very first time. The farmer put his faith in the latter and kept going, thrusting in and out at a steady pace.

“Hhhhhoh my god Shane…you’re doing so good, baby….” The farmer moaned out. “Just…stay just like that for me, yeah?”

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from where Shane’s lips were stretching wide around him. He kept making noises, little moans and groans of surprise coming from his throat as the farmer moved his cock around inside his mouth. The head was making his cheek poke out each time he went as deep as he could, and the farmer was impressed with how far Shane was taking him. His eyes were squeezing tighter with each thrust, focusing on keeping his lips tight over the ridge of his tip as it fucked his mouth. The farmer was captivated by the sight, moving a hand to cup Shane’s cheek, a rather sweet display, even if it was only to feel his dick through Shane’s skin. He opened his eyes in response, looking up, and unintentionally made a desperate noise to match his desperate eyes.

“Oh, fuck, Shane, ‘s perfect, I’m, fuck,”

Shane squeezed his eyes shut, reinvigorated and refocused now that he sees the end’s in sight. He was determined to make up for his social blunders up to this point, then him and the farmer would be even. As if the farmer was ever offended in the first place. No matter if he was up or down, he wanted Shane, and he knew Shane wanted him too, at least like this. So he’d take him like this, if that’s what he could get.

Shane took a deep breath through his nose, and started adding his tongue into the mix, running it across his shaft as it pumped in and out of his mouth. The farmer moaned out loud when he felt it, then full on shouted Shane’s name, followed by a whiny moan when he started sucking too. It echoed for several seconds, loud enough that if there was anyone on the paths leading to the farm, they would be well aware of what they were getting up to. Shane moaned in response, and used his hand to start jerking the farmer into his mouth, sucking on the tip now. He felt a little bad when he heard how breathless the farmer was getting, and wondered about the state of his poor lungs. It left his mind easily when he heard the farmer moan for him again

“Ffuuuuuuuuuuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck, Shane, I’m gonna fucking…God, ‘m gonna-“

Then the farmer was huffing hard, not pulling back, letting Shane decide for himself how to finish. He just moaned in response, bobbing his head and jerking him straight into his mouth until hot cum was dripping onto his tongue. He sucked, continuing to milk his dick with his tight fist, then he put both hands on the farmers thighs and took his cock all the way to the back of his throat, lips hitting the farmer’s pelvis, and swallowed a few times, making a disgustingly explicit gulping noise that delighted the farmer from his heart to his balls.

“Hhholy shit, Shaneyy….”

He was far too enamored with the pleasure still radiating through his body to notice, much less care, about letting out that childish nickname at such a moment. Shane heard it just barely as he pulled back, sitting back against the house again with a huff. He leaned his head back and wiped his hot lips with the back of his hand as the endearing name sank into the cracks in his heart. His lips and tongue felt a bit numb and tingly against his cool hand. He’d never used them that aggressively on someone before. The nickname struck a specific cord within him, an emotion that mixed strangely with the afterglow sinking in as he watched the farmer redress himself right in front of him. It wasn’t the first time he’d been called that name. Their voices played in his head; his parents, his sister, his god-daughter…it was only ever people that loved him who called him that. His throat and chest constricted, and he was fighting to keep himself from crying as the farmer finally sat down in front of him yet again. Their eyes stayed on each other as the farmer lazily crawled over Shane again, cradled his head in his hand, and gave him a sweet kiss. He rested his head on Shane’s shoulder then, holding him in a close hug, which he reciprocated, wrapping his arms around his back, pulling him closer, finally able to take a deep breath. They stayed like that, in peaceful quietness, listening to the birds and the leaves rustling and the animals in the distance.

“I want you, Shane. I really do.”

The whispered confession pushed Shane over the edge, and before he knew it he was letting out quiet sobs and gripping harder at the farmer’s back. He wanted to say something, he really did, but with every thought another stuttering sob wracked his body, until he decided that he couldn’t lie if he wanted to in this state, and conceded to try and be honest with himself for once, and let his tears flow freely down his face. He hadn't consciously noticed the way the farmer was gently petting him until his crying had slowed, but he felt his heartbeat through his chest: an even, soothing beat that steadied him like a metronome. And here he was, offering it freely, convincing him that he is truly wanted. Shane called on all the bravery he could summon, and decided to be truthful.

“I-I want you, too…”

His words were like music to the farmer’s ears. He could work with this. He squeezed him tighter.

“Then be with me…”

He pulled back, enough for them to face each other. Shane’s eyes ran all over his partner’s face, landing on his lips, which he stayed looking at as he nodded, and whispered back,

“Okay…”

“Okay…”

The farmer leaned back in, slowly, and kissed him again, even slower. And they stayed like that, holding each other, kissing each other, loving each other.

.

.

.

.

.

.

;-; dis got so sappy at the end…they really DO want each other don’t they…comments and suggestions welcome

[writer-by-the-sea]

Oh, how I loved Autumn. (NSFT)

As the temperature drops, the leaves turn to yellow and red, and I find myself digging in my closet for my light scarfs and gloves; I welcome Autumn with open arms.

I believe it is one of the most potentially romantic seasons of the year.

An excuse to go outside and find my way to a pumpkin patch, humming to myself and picking up pumpkins as though I am suddenly an expert on the Autumn squash. Gently knocking my knuckles against it's orange exterior, giving an aura of a poor lost soul who cannot possibly choose which pumpkin is the prefect one. The farmer finally making their way to me and taking the questionable pumpkin from my hands, their fingertips softly caressing my own in the process.

"Take this one," the farmer offers with a smile, holding out a new pumpkin for me to inspect. It's wide but short, a light orange with creases of white, and a beautifully twisted stem. I take a step toward the farmer, closing the distance between us as I examine the pumpkin of which I have yet to take from their hands.

"I wanted to try making a pie this year," I lie. "Will this work?"

"Oh," the farmer nodded and gently placed the pumpkin back on the ground. "Then you'll want pie pumpkins, these ones are mostly for display."

I smiled to myself as the farmer led me to another patch, making a mental note to come back another day for the decorative pumpkins. And perhaps another time or two after that.

"See these smaller ones? These ones are great for pie," they explained and grabbed yet another pumpkin for me. This one was very round and a deep orange, similar to a pie I would never make.

I reached out and carefully took the pumpkin from their waiting hands, making sure to overstep and place my hands over their own. To my surprise and delight, the farmer didn't step away. Their eyes held my gaze, their cheeks darkening, and their breath picking up.

"It's perfect," I whispered and finally took the pumpkin from their grip.

Then, I leaned forward, and pressed my lips to theirs. The pumpkin fell from my hands between us, completely forgotten as the farmer stepped into our kiss, their hands sliding up and chest and around my neck.

Tilting my head to the side, I sighed into the kiss, pulling back for a moment before kissing them again even deeper. The farmer let our the softest moan as our tongues came together, teasing one another and forgetting the world around us.

Their hands fisted the back of my shirt, tugging me closer and gasping as they felt my cock stiffening between us. I released our kiss, quickly ducking my head to settle at their neck. The farmer let their head fall back, sighing as I sucked at their tender flesh.

"Elliott," they whispered, one of their hands slipping down my chest and to my belt. I gently grazed my teeth against their neck, my hips shifting forward and into their open palm.

"Want you," I mumbled into their neck, quietly groaning as their hand slipped past my waist and--

"Excuse me, farmer!"

The farmer shoved me back, hard. My bottom falling onto the ground with a loud thud and a small shout.

"Yes, I'll be right there, Emily!" They shouted to the woman standing near the cabin, waiting for help with her own pumpkin. Blissfully unaware of the dangerous game we were just playing.

The farmer playfully glared down at me, tapping their boot into my leg. "Were you ever actually planning on making a pie?"

"No."

They laughed and walked away from me, "Just for that, we're making a pie tonight."

I chuckled, "Yes, dear. Although, I'm not sure we own a pie dish."

They continued walking, not looking back as they said, "wasn't talking about that kind of pie, husband!"

Oh, how I loved Autumn.

(Follow, like, and reblog for more Elliott content. If a writer doesn't receive praise they wither away to nothing ;P)

[randomhatthief]

Some doodles I didn't quite finish as well as the others~

[thebiggerbear]

A Prize Unlike Any Other

Summary: You may not have gotten the Golden Pumpkin but that’s alright, you got a different prize altogether.

Pairing: Leah x Female!Farmer; Leah x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1829

A/N: This is my first time writing for Stardew Valley and its characters. Hope it's not too bad. This was just a cute idea that popped into my head due to it being Halloween and I wanted to write it quickly. Happy Halloween to everyone who celebrates! 🎃

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: implied sexual content; implied sexual humor; fluff

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

You can also read on AO3

You walked into the town square, completely unprepared for the sight you were about to see. The town had gone all out for Spirit’s Eve. Every single inch was decorated and no stone was left unturned. You had been told by Lewis that Pelican Town took each holiday seriously, and each time the square would be all decked out. But this…this you hadn’t expected. Glancing over, you saw skeletons walking around in a large cage. How festive. You didn’t even want to imagine how Marlon caught them and somehow squeezed them into that box. From experience, they weren’t exactly the easiest monster from the mines to maneuver into acting like a tourist attraction. You were surprised bones weren’t being thrown at the gawking townspeople through the bars.

You scanned the bodies filling the space and your eyes came across the one you were looking for. You quickly made your way over and tapped the villager on the shoulder.

Leah turned around and you could see she was in the middle of eating something. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of you. “Oh, Y/N,” came out garbled before she covered her hand with her mouth, making you snicker. Once she finished chewing, she cleared her throat. “So sorry. I was eating blackberries.”

You shrugged. “It’s fine. So, this is quite the turnout, huh?” You glanced around, noting your neighbors all partaking in the oodles of food and drink that were offered. You rolled your eyes when you heard Shane complaining loudly that there was no more pumpkin ale. That guy should really be keeping his distance from anything with the word ale in it in your opinion.

“You didn’t dress up?”

You turned back to Leah, seeing her eyes roving over you and her brows furrowing. 

“What? Yes, I did,” you insisted.

“Oh yeah, what are you then?” She crossed her arms, challenging you.

“Can’t you tell?” You held out your arms, gesturing to yourself. “I’m a farmer.”

“Wow,” Leah deadpanned. “You really pulled that one off.”

You gave her a smirk. “That I did. Now, are we going through the haunted maze or not?”

She bit her lip. “Um…”

“Yeah, you are.” You grabbed her hand and hurried to the entrance. “Let’s go.”

“But,” she tried to protest. “I don’t think we—”

“Don’t worry, we won’t get lost,” you called back to her.

-- 25 minutes later --

“Okay, I think we’re lost,” you whispered.

“Don’t worry, you said,” Leah teased. “We won’t get lost.”

You knew she was focusing on teasing you so she wouldn’t think about how scared she was. You, on the other hand, weren’t as easily distracted. Dammit, you wanted that Golden Pumpkin and you were determined to get it.

“We’re not. We just have to find a way through. There has to be a secret entrance here somewhere.” You poked at the hedges surrounding you, convinced one would eventually give way to direct you right to your prize. You also swore to yourself that you two wouldn’t end up like Penny or Maru. 

Leah sighed. “There is no way through. Come on, let’s try to backtrack and I’ll buy you some pumpkin ale that I know Jodi is hiding somewhere when we get back to the party.”

“Pumpkin ale isn’t the Golden Pumpkin,” you muttered, poking at another hedge that refused to give way.

She looked forlornly upon you until realization dawned upon her face and a small playful smile started to form upon her lips. “You know, we are out here, lost, all alone. No one but just us two, unable to find a way out.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of the problem,” you grumbled, completely missing her point, and shoving at a hedge that snapped back at you.

Leah rolled her eyes and grabbed your shoulders, turning you around to face her. “Why do you need the Golden Pumpkin when I’m right here?” 

You nearly gulped as you stared into her blue eyes, seeing her smile grow as her meaning began to sink in. “To sell it?” You nearly squeaked out.

She chuckled, pulling you closer and wrapping her arms around your neck. “You can find it and sell it next year. Right now, you should only be focusing on this right here.” She brushed her lips against yours, making your eyes widen slightly. It wasn’t as if you and Leah weren’t already dating but except for that one incredible yet unexpected kiss at the picnic that her ex ended up interrupting, you two hadn’t really been too physical. Sure, you talked on the phone late into the night and she would see you about town and you’d make time to visit, but you both hadn’t really taken advantage of the change in status of your relationship once you’d asked her. You were either too busy with the farm, the town, or both, and she was busy with her sculptures and forays into the woods right outside her doorstep. But now…now you realized just how much time you both had been wasting. You closed your eyes and pulled her in closer, making her gasp in surprise into your mouth, and infused more passion into the kiss.

Once you both broke apart for air, you leaned your forehead against hers, smiling.

“Better than any old Golden Pumpkin, right?” She teased, panting.

“Like you said, who needs the Golden Pumpkin when you’re right here.” She gave you a tender smile and you gently wrapped her braid around your fingertips. “You’re my prize of the night.”

She burst out into laughter and your brows drew together in confusion. “What?”

“You are so cheesy,” she said in between chuckles.

Feeling your cheeks heat up, you frowned and began to pull away, beyond embarrassed, when she stopped you. 

“I love that about you,” she murmured, pecking your lips.

“Really?” Embarrassment immediately forgotten, you pasted the sexiest smirk that you could manage onto your face and wrapped your arms around her waist. “Because there’s definitely more where that came from.”

She dug her teeth into her bottom lip. “Well, I definitely won’t be saying no to that,” she whispered.

“Good,” you whispered back before kissing her again.

-- 1 hour later --

You both exited the maze after trying to find the exit for nearly twenty minutes. You both brushed yourselves off, straightened your hair as best you could, and exchanged secret smiles as you made your way back to the festival.

Jodi was kind enough to hand pumpkin ale over to you and Leah when you arrived. You gave her a nod of thanks. “Did you two manage to find the Golden Pumpkin?”

You could see a slight tint of pink in Leah’s cheeks as she answered the older woman. “No, but we’re going to try again next year.” You discreetly ran your finger along the back of her hand and the pink tinge grew.

“That’s too bad. No one else seems to have found it either. Oh well, like you said, there’s always next year.” Jodi tried to put a positive spin on it.

Just then Alex and Sam appeared, taking the proffered cups of pumpkin ale. “How about you boys? Did either of you find the Golden Pumpkin?”

“No, I only got as far as the graveyard,” Sam mumbled, unhappy that he hadn’t gotten the prize.

“That’s farther than I got,” Alex stated. “Though, the maze was a lot spookier this year.”

“How so?” Jodi asked.

“Well, for one, the screams.”

“They have screaming sound effects every year,” Leah pointed out.

“Yeah, but this was different. They sounded…a lot closer.”

“Oh, and the hedges started shaking and moving on their own a couple of times,” Sam added.

Leah’s eyes widened but she refused to make eye contact with anyone. You could see the tell-tale red creeping into her face, though. 

“And the moaning… The sounds they added this year were sick,” Alex excitedly proclaimed.

Leah snuck a glance over at you, horrified, but you just gave her a wicked smirk. “Yeah, this maze was really something this year,” you agreed. “And you guys still didn’t manage to find the Golden Pumpkin, huh?”

Alex sighed. “No.” Sam shook his head.

“I found it,” you muttered under your breath right before taking a sip of your ale. No one heard you but Leah who was coughing on her drink a little and then shooting surreptitious daggers at you.

“But you just wait, we’ll get it next year,” Sam promised. 

“Yeah,” Alex agreed.

“I’m sure you will, dear,” Jodi encouraged. The boys moved away, talking about their plan for next year and a possible team-up. Jodi made her way towards Caroline for presumably some more chit chat involving the townspeople. Only you and Leah were left and the latter was almost as red as a tomato.

“You’re on your own next year,” she hissed.

You wrapped a soothing arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, smirking right at her. “We won’t need to come to the festival next year. I’ll just find the Golden Pumpkin again, at home, with you.” 

She gave you a half-hearted shove, glaring at you. “You’re incorrigible, Y/N.”

You laughed and kissed her warm cheek. “And that’s why you love me. Besides,” She turned to look at you, still cross with you but starting to soften slightly. “Babe, I told you. You’re my prize.”

She rolled her eyes but you could see the hint of a smile she was fighting really hard not to let happen. It was happening, though; her embarrassment was decreasing and she was starting to forgive you. “Like I said, you’re cheesy.”

“And you’re beautiful,” you whispered, running a tender hand over her hair and noting the slight dewiness of her skin from your earlier escapade. She glanced over at you and the smile you’d been waiting for finally shone through. 

She leaned in and pressed her lips to yours. “I love you,” she whispered back to you.

Your affectionate smile melted into a devious smirk. “Enough for us to go back into the maze and scare more people?” You playfully waggled an eyebrow.

You didn’t know that her eyes could roll that far back into her head (actually, you did know now) and she shook her head, grabbing your hand and leading you to the edge of town. “No, but enough that we can go back to my place and we can continue to scare Marnie and her cows for a little while until you have to return to the farm.” Her wicked smirk melted your heart but also made it pound ten times harder at the same time. Ever since you saw this woman, you’d been under her spell and tonight was no different.

Villagers called out a good night to you as you passed and all you could do was offer up a dazed wave as your blue-eyed red-headed siren led you deeper into the dark woods that even the light of the full moon wouldn’t dare enter.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this character.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

banner by @cafekitsune

[el-dritchknight]

sterling is so cute annoying 😳😳😳 he revved up the engine to make us hold onto him and it worked 😔😔😔

also feat. jealous shane??? 👀

[cryoriku]

what's better than this. guys bein dudes

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