Aghh love herâ¤ď¸
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tell me abour ur ocs ,, PLEAASSEEE.... (holding out a empty bowl)
gladly!!! though they dont have any correlation with stardew valley whatsoever, they still hold such a special place in my heartâ¤ď¸ i think i made them 2-3 years agoâŚ
(under the cut!)
LILOU OLIVA
(sheâs the oldest character ive made so far! i remember when i first made her, she had bright pink hair LOL)
here are some fun facts about her:
sheâs filipino; her skinâs on the tanner side and she has really thick wavy hair
lilou lives by the seaside in a little apartment above a convenience store.
she likes to cook and bake; even make jams and pickles (this is kinda sdv related đ)
lilouâs 5â5 but has the guts of a much taller personâŚ
she has an arm tattoo of stars that was made by her younger brother!
lastly, she used to have a scholarship at this prestigious school but was dropped đ¤ˇââď¸
INIGO OLIVA
(this is lilouâs younger brother)
fun facts about inigo:
heâs 3 years younger than his older sister but is way taller (5â9 ft)
inigo is very artsy, he likes mediums where he can keep his hands busy (pottery, sculpting)
he doesnât technically have a permanent homeâhe likes travelling and backpacking a lot (but if he had to name a place home, it would be his sisterâs house)
he likes experimenting with different art mediums a lotâheâs tried piercing, hair dying, tattooing and all sorts of things
inigo is a sweetheart, a little cutiepatootie⌠he has my whole heart!
i actually have 3 more but theyâre more⌠intense than inigo and lilou so im a bit apprehensive to share đ but! they are part of a story iâve been developing for quite some time and i love them a whole lot
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loved your haley fic so much!! i reread it immediately after reading it and haven't been able to stop thinking about it since <3
omg⌠anonâŚ
WE SHALL HAVE A SUMMER WEDDING.
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i havent been spiraling about sdv lately⌠do you guys want to hear about my ocs,,, ok bye
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SAM
fics
sweet like (fluff; 1.7k words)
8:05 (fluff; 3.2k words)
homecoming (hurt/comfort; 3.2k)
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HALEY
fics
super graphic ultra-modern girl like me! (suggestive; 2k words) (FEM!reader)
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SEBASTIAN
fics
cliff talk (character study; 2.1k words)
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im gonna fix my masterlist
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Stardew Valley Dating Simulator Proyect â¨â¨
Hello!!! Iâm Sun, head of this project and artist. Weâre looking for people to make this thing happen!! This is just the first concept art for what the final game will be haha
Anyone with art, game developing or writing experience who loves the game is welcome!! (weâre not picky we desperately need help đ)
If youâre interested you can contact me here (official account for the game) or on my TikTok @sunnorelli.
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WHEN YOU WAKE UP NEXT TO HIM, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!!!! WITH YOUR HEAD IN YOUR HANDS, YOU'RE NOTHING MORE THAN HIS WIFE!!!!! AND WHEN YOU THINK ABOUT ME, ALL OF THOSE YEARS AGO!!! YOU'RE STANDING FACE TO FACE WITH "I TOLD YOU SO"!!! YOU KNOW I HATE TO SAY IT, BUT I TOLD YOU SO!!!! YOU KNOW I HATE TO SAY IT!!!! BUT I TOLD YOU SO!!!!!!!!!
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Fanfic writers are like crows. If you give them treats (comments) they will bring you shiny things (fanfic)
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super graphic ultra-modern girl like me!
pairing: haley x reader
wc: 2k
tags: mature (NOT explicit) , closeted lesbian haley , both of you are drunk , making out
synopsis: where sharing lipstick with your best friend haley makes you feel⌠things.
a/n: reader: oh ho ho, i sure hope kissing my bff doesnt awaken anything in me! (it did)
i wrote this listening to super graphic ultra modern girl by chappel roan! haley fits so many of her songs its insane
your head is aching, spinning like you were sent to another dimension that consists of disco flashing lights and the nauseating smell of spilt vodkaâall thanks to the sheer amount of alcohol you consumed in the past 5 hours. itâs pushing 3 AMâthe strappy 4 inch heels are chafing your feet, the skimpy skirt clinging to your hips ride up in a way that would scandalize the small village mothers, and body glitter covering every inch of your skin.Â
you feel light, weightless as you flutter and float through the rhythmic bass engulfing the club. you nod your head to the beat of the music, swaying your hips that loosen with every sip of the sweet alcoholic drink in your hand.Â
youâre bouncing up and down to party rock anthem when your phone buzzes. fishing it out of your pocket, you squint your eyes to make out the notification. you bow your head, trying to make out the message over the flashing lights.
an amused laugh bubbles out of you. haley.
â> go 2 thr bathroon rn
â> hurry or else
you turn and wobble out of the middle of the dance floor, swaying to the beat while maneuvering the sea of sweaty bodies. the bathroom is in an isolated corner by the entrance of the club. you push the door open, stumbling slightly when it takes a little less effort than you expect.
you enter the club bathroom, shutting the ornate door behind you. it slams with a resounding slam, dampening the loud candy pop songs blaring through the party outside.Â
your heels click against cool marble as you saunter to the long, seemingly endless, stretch of mirrors and faucets. twisting the knob, a rush of tap water flows freely; it contrasts satisfyingly with the heated skin of your hands. you wet your fingers, dabbing your cheeks and neck with cool water. you sigh, shivering with the instant relief it brings.
as you cool yourself off, you thinkâyou do wonder what haleyâs predicament is, she texted you with much urgency.Â
perhaps she fell into the toiletâor maybe sheâs drunk herself to the point of spewing her guts out in one of these very cubicles. the latter though makes you giggle. a notification buzzes from your phone, as if the sound of your laughter summoned it.
â> idiot
â> i can hear u laughing from here
you snort.
suddenly, without warning, you feel a warm hand pull you into a stall. itâs a sudden jerking motion, and you almost lose your balance to fall flat on your face. a gasp rips out of you as you clutch on to the very warm, very soft thing that keeps you from falling and twisting your ankle. before you even register the situation, youâre being dragged in to sit on the closed lid of the toilet.Â
youâre frazzled, knocked off balance by a rude and very disrespectful stranger who obviously has no morals. you feel your blood boil, ruthless insults ready at the tip of your tongueâ
âthen you look up, and that feeling dissipates. instead, a cheshire grin splits your face, âhaley.â
sheâs the living breathing stereotype of a wild party girl like this; blonde hair in waves down her back that smells sweetly of strawberries, nails buffed and painted a pretty baby blue, and make-up done up to the absolute nines. her sequin skirt sparkles and winks as she shifts. pretty, youâll ask if you could borrow it next timeâ
manicured fingers snap and youâre pushed out of your own thoughts. haley crosses her arms, standing in between your thighs, looking down at you with a displeased expression. âtook you long enough.â
you offer a sheepish smile. âi was busy.â
âyeah,â she sneers, locking the stall door behind her. âbusy shaking your ass to trashy zuzu club songs.âÂ
you ignore the sharp jab with a roll of your eyes. âwhatâs up?â you ask, your words slur slightly, almost tapering off into incomprehensible gibberish. âdidya you puke or something?â
âew. no,âthe loud is just making my head hurt,â she replies, massaging her temples. âstick your legs together, iâm gonna sit on your lap.â
she knocks your thighs together with her knee. haley maneuvers you to her liking, your bare thighs pressing together when she spins and sits perpendicular to your lap.
âhm.â you feel the weight of her settle on top of your thighs. the warmth of her skin meeting yours under the cut of her skirt. you barely repress a shiver at the heat radiating off her skin. âwoah! okay now you really have to tell me whatâs going on.â
you're met with a faceful of strawberry-scented blonde hair when she shifts awayâignoring you. good news for her, your drink-addled brain doesnât seem to care. in fact, your drunk brain figures it is a perfect time to shamelessly flirt. your tongue is loose enough, and your brain has completely thrown away its filter. as friends, of course; building camaraderie as people say.
âyou smell nice, did you use that strawberry shampoo i gave?â you murmur, brushing the locks away from your face. you feel haley squirm in your lap. you know she used it, the pride bubbles up in you at the thought.Â
itâs overly warm, that plus the buttloads of alcohol brewing in your gut makes your skin feel on fire.Â
haley growls. âstop talking, dumbass.â
you roll your eyes, pinching her thigh. she yelps, high and breathy, swatting your hand away. she meets your eyes, her blonde brows furrowed.
âgeezâŚâ a lazy smile playing on your lips. âjust take the compliment, hales.â
a ghost of a smirk appears on her cherry colored lips. glossy and pink. you wonder if they taste as sweet and tart as real cherries doâ
you wince internally. thinking like that is not a good idea. damn your alcohol foggy brain, making you think of the inane idea of lusting after your best friend.Â
you knock your forehead into her shoulder. âso are we just going to sit here all day?â
âi just need to touch up my lipstick,â she says. facing you with an expectant look. âthen we can go back.â
âand thatâs why you called me,â you raise a brow. your gaze trails to the cherry coat on her lipsâit looks perfectly fine to you. in fact, she looks absolutely darling like this.Â
âyou need some?â
ââŚare you offering?â
âwhy not? we share all my shit anyway,â you shrug. âi think itâs somewhere in my purseââ
âwhereâs your purse?â
âi left it with the others, i think itâs with abby, i'll text her.â you say. fumbling for your phone, you reach in the hidden pocket of your skirt. the walls enclosing the cubicle restrict your movements; you bump your elbow against the flimsy wood as you dig deeper into the flimsy pocket. your skirt is skin-tight against your hips, you feel the woman above becoming increasingly agitated as your attempts to fish out your phone come out fruitless.
haley huffs above you, shifting; making your wary gaze snap back to her. she looks down at you with a poutâyouâre damn sure sheâs just as hammered as you.
âtoo far,â she whines, taking a firm grip of your jaw. your cheeks puff with the force of her squishing them, you feel the pointed tips of her nails digging into the fat there. she swings a leg over you, her hips bracketing your waist as she sits atop you.Â
this position feels strangely intimate; like all your senses are overwhelmed with only haley. the heady scent of her skin, the short sounds of her breathing in your ears, the burning feeling wherever she touchesâitâs all her, her, her.
which shouldnât make you feel the way itâs making you feel; like you're buzzing with adrenaline. you feel the blood coursing through your veins at race car speedsâspreading all throughout your body. your cheeks feel hot, you feel dizzy with all your senses stimulated by your best friend.
the reverberating bass from the music outside shakes the walls; like some sort of finality as it thumps, thumps, thumps.
âhales,â you start, your mouth dry. âwhatââ
she stares at you, her crystalline eyes shining in the dim light of the bathroom. a pretty pink flush paints her cheeks til the tips of her pearl-adorned ears. you feel her breaths against your cheekâshort and warm. âstay still, the gloss you have on your lips will do.â
your ears have to be fucking with you⌠your eyes widen and you swear you feel your heart jump up into your throat. âhuhââ
âwhat?â she says in response to your wide-eyed expression. her tone drops to something akin to a purr. âyour lipstick is such a pretty shade.â
helping is what friends are for, right? maybe this is merely the alcohol talking; because she doesnât like you like that, totallyâand the disappointment you feel is not because of that either.Â
you swallow the heavy lump in your throat; your voice is strangled and stuttery when you speak. âfâfine.â
âperfect,â she grins. âhold still.â
this is the least you were expecting when you walked into the club bathroom; who knew youâd end up with haley in your lap and hovering over for what is technically a kiss. you will your eyes not to close, burning the view of her leaning over you into your brain. you shudder; this is not a sight that will leave you for months to come.
you squeeze her hip as her face hovers closer, palm lingering at her scratchy sequin miniskirt. you crane your neck, anticipating the brush of her lips against yours. your other hand travels to her upper back, stroking her locks of golden hair; under your ministrations, you feel her tremor slightly.
it feels like eternity when you finally connect.Â
sparks fly the moment you feel the plush softness of her mouth against yours, moving in a salacious rhythm that you doubt is for only sharing lipstick.Â
her lips are sticky with what remains of that cherry lip gloss; it smears all over your own lips, spreading your deep red lipstick everywhere; at the corner of your lips, at your chin. your eyes flutter shut, a contented sigh escapes your mouth and haley uses that as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. she drags her hand up and up, curling her fingers into the base of your neck.
you jolt, the pleasure fogs your mind; your thoughts are muddy, the only coherent thing is of haley.Â
your tongue swipes at her bottom lip, chasing the fruity flavor of cherry cola on her lips. itâs sweet, sheâs sweet. you feel lightheaded with the overwhelming sensations of it. sure, youâve kissed once or twiceâbut it never felt like this; soft and desperate and hot and tingly, affecting you all throughout your body.Â
your breaths are labored when she pulls away and you feel it's too soon. a clicking wet sound when her mouth disconnects from yours that makes you shiver. you feel dizzy with warmth; heat is pooling low in your belly, a low buzzing sensation overwhelms everywhere haley touches.Â
her lips as wine-red as yours. the same color lipstick smeared messily on her lips. haley wipes the corner of your cupidâs bow, where some of the color had smudged, her breathing heavy and pupils dilated as you stare. her hands feel delightfully warm and soft against your skin. golden strands of hair brush against your cheeks, making you squirm in your seat.
you can barely restrain your delighted giggle, in awe of the absurdity of the situation. haley laughs too, a light sound like a tinkling bell. you slump against the cold tile wall behind you, boneless and in disbeliefâ did you really just make out with your best friend? and at a grimy club bathroom no less.
time seems suspended here, cramped in a stall with only the sound of heavy breathing. there will be a lot more questions when you leave, lingering glances at your pleasure-pulled hair and smeared lipstick.Â
this is what friends do, what you and haley do. your eyes track her every move, unabashedly staring as she readjusts her top. haley catches your eye, smiling like the cat that got all the cream.Â
she cranes her face to your ear, whispering. âthanks for the touch up, babe.â
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super graphic ultra-modern girl like me!
pairing: haley x reader
wc: 2k
tags: mature (NOT explicit) , closeted lesbian haley , both of you are drunk , making out
synopsis: where sharing lipstick with your best friend haley makes you feel⌠things.
a/n: reader: oh ho ho, i sure hope kissing my bff doesnt awaken anything in me! (it did)
i wrote this listening to super graphic ultra modern girl by chappel roan! haley fits so many of her songs its insane
your head is aching, spinning like you were sent to another dimension that consists of disco flashing lights and the nauseating smell of spilt vodkaâall thanks to the sheer amount of alcohol you consumed in the past 5 hours. itâs pushing 3 AMâthe strappy 4 inch heels are chafing your feet, the skimpy skirt clinging to your hips ride up in a way that would scandalize the small village mothers, and body glitter covering every inch of your skin.Â
you feel light, weightless as you flutter and float through the rhythmic bass engulfing the club. you nod your head to the beat of the music, swaying your hips that loosen with every sip of the sweet alcoholic drink in your hand.Â
youâre bouncing up and down to party rock anthem when your phone buzzes. fishing it out of your pocket, you squint your eyes to make out the notification. you bow your head, trying to make out the message over the flashing lights.
an amused laugh bubbles out of you. haley.
â> go 2 thr bathroon rn
â> hurry or else
you turn and wobble out of the middle of the dance floor, swaying to the beat while maneuvering the sea of sweaty bodies. the bathroom is in an isolated corner by the entrance of the club. you push the door open, stumbling slightly when it takes a little less effort than you expect.
you enter the club bathroom, shutting the ornate door behind you. it slams with a resounding slam, dampening the loud candy pop songs blaring through the party outside.Â
your heels click against cool marble as you saunter to the long, seemingly endless, stretch of mirrors and faucets. twisting the knob, a rush of tap water flows freely; it contrasts satisfyingly with the heated skin of your hands. you wet your fingers, dabbing your cheeks and neck with cool water. you sigh, shivering with the instant relief it brings.
as you cool yourself off, you thinkâyou do wonder what haleyâs predicament is, she texted you with much urgency.Â
perhaps she fell into the toiletâor maybe sheâs drunk herself to the point of spewing her guts out in one of these very cubicles. the latter though makes you giggle. a notification buzzes from your phone, as if the sound of your laughter summoned it.
â> idiot
â> i can hear u laughing from here
you snort.
suddenly, without warning, you feel a warm hand pull you into a stall. itâs a sudden jerking motion, and you almost lose your balance to fall flat on your face. a gasp rips out of you as you clutch on to the very warm, very soft thing that keeps you from falling and twisting your ankle. before you even register the situation, youâre being dragged in to sit on the closed lid of the toilet.Â
youâre frazzled, knocked off balance by a rude and very disrespectful stranger who obviously has no morals. you feel your blood boil, ruthless insults ready at the tip of your tongueâ
âthen you look up, and that feeling dissipates. instead, a cheshire grin splits your face, âhaley.â
sheâs the living breathing stereotype of a wild party girl like this; blonde hair in waves down her back that smells sweetly of strawberries, nails buffed and painted a pretty baby blue, and make-up done up to the absolute nines. her sequin skirt sparkles and winks as she shifts. pretty, youâll ask if you could borrow it next timeâ
manicured fingers snap and youâre pushed out of your own thoughts. haley crosses her arms, standing in between your thighs, looking down at you with a displeased expression. âtook you long enough.â
you offer a sheepish smile. âi was busy.â
âyeah,â she sneers, locking the stall door behind her. âbusy shaking your ass to trashy zuzu club songs.âÂ
you ignore the sharp jab with a roll of your eyes. âwhatâs up?â you ask, your words slur slightly, almost tapering off into incomprehensible gibberish. âdidya you puke or something?â
âew. no,âthe loud is just making my head hurt,â she replies, massaging her temples. âstick your legs together, iâm gonna sit on your lap.â
she knocks your thighs together with her knee. haley maneuvers you to her liking, your bare thighs pressing together when she spins and sits perpendicular to your lap.
âhm.â you feel the weight of her settle on top of your thighs. the warmth of her skin meeting yours under the cut of her skirt. you barely repress a shiver at the heat radiating off her skin. âwoah! okay now you really have to tell me whatâs going on.â
you're met with a faceful of strawberry-scented blonde hair when she shifts awayâignoring you. good news for her, your drink-addled brain doesnât seem to care. in fact, your drunk brain figures it is a perfect time to shamelessly flirt. your tongue is loose enough, and your brain has completely thrown away its filter. as friends, of course; building camaraderie as people say.
âyou smell nice, did you use that strawberry shampoo i gave?â you murmur, brushing the locks away from your face. you feel haley squirm in your lap. you know she used it, the pride bubbles up in you at the thought.Â
itâs overly warm, that plus the buttloads of alcohol brewing in your gut makes your skin feel on fire.Â
haley growls. âstop talking, dumbass.â
you roll your eyes, pinching her thigh. she yelps, high and breathy, swatting your hand away. she meets your eyes, her blonde brows furrowed.
âgeezâŚâ a lazy smile playing on your lips. âjust take the compliment, hales.â
a ghost of a smirk appears on her cherry colored lips. glossy and pink. you wonder if they taste as sweet and tart as real cherries doâ
you wince internally. thinking like that is not a good idea. damn your alcohol foggy brain, making you think of the inane idea of lusting after your best friend.Â
you knock your forehead into her shoulder. âso are we just going to sit here all day?â
âi just need to touch up my lipstick,â she says. facing you with an expectant look. âthen we can go back.â
âand thatâs why you called me,â you raise a brow. your gaze trails to the cherry coat on her lipsâit looks perfectly fine to you. in fact, she looks absolutely darling like this.Â
âyou need some?â
ââŚare you offering?â
âwhy not? we share all my shit anyway,â you shrug. âi think itâs somewhere in my purseââ
âwhereâs your purse?â
âi left it with the others, i think itâs with abby, i'll text her.â you say. fumbling for your phone, you reach in the hidden pocket of your skirt. the walls enclosing the cubicle restrict your movements; you bump your elbow against the flimsy wood as you dig deeper into the flimsy pocket. your skirt is skin-tight against your hips, you feel the woman above becoming increasingly agitated as your attempts to fish out your phone come out fruitless.
haley huffs above you, shifting; making your wary gaze snap back to her. she looks down at you with a poutâyouâre damn sure sheâs just as hammered as you.
âtoo far,â she whines, taking a firm grip of your jaw. your cheeks puff with the force of her squishing them, you feel the pointed tips of her nails digging into the fat there. she swings a leg over you, her hips bracketing your waist as she sits atop you.Â
this position feels strangely intimate; like all your senses are overwhelmed with only haley. the heady scent of her skin, the short sounds of her breathing in your ears, the burning feeling wherever she touchesâitâs all her, her, her.
which shouldnât make you feel the way itâs making you feel; like you're buzzing with adrenaline. you feel the blood coursing through your veins at race car speedsâspreading all throughout your body. your cheeks feel hot, you feel dizzy with all your senses stimulated by your best friend.
the reverberating bass from the music outside shakes the walls; like some sort of finality as it thumps, thumps, thumps.
âhales,â you start, your mouth dry. âwhatââ
she stares at you, her crystalline eyes shining in the dim light of the bathroom. a pretty pink flush paints her cheeks til the tips of her pearl-adorned ears. you feel her breaths against your cheekâshort and warm. âstay still, the gloss you have on your lips will do.â
your ears have to be fucking with you⌠your eyes widen and you swear you feel your heart jump up into your throat. âhuhââ
âwhat?â she says in response to your wide-eyed expression. her tone drops to something akin to a purr. âyour lipstick is such a pretty shade.â
helping is what friends are for, right? maybe this is merely the alcohol talking; because she doesnât like you like that, totallyâand the disappointment you feel is not because of that either.Â
you swallow the heavy lump in your throat; your voice is strangled and stuttery when you speak. âfâfine.â
âperfect,â she grins. âhold still.â
this is the least you were expecting when you walked into the club bathroom; who knew youâd end up with haley in your lap and hovering over for what is technically a kiss. you will your eyes not to close, burning the view of her leaning over you into your brain. you shudder; this is not a sight that will leave you for months to come.
you squeeze her hip as her face hovers closer, palm lingering at her scratchy sequin miniskirt. you crane your neck, anticipating the brush of her lips against yours. your other hand travels to her upper back, stroking her locks of golden hair; under your ministrations, you feel her tremor slightly.
it feels like eternity when you finally connect.Â
sparks fly the moment you feel the plush softness of her mouth against yours, moving in a salacious rhythm that you doubt is for only sharing lipstick.Â
her lips are sticky with what remains of that cherry lip gloss; it smears all over your own lips, spreading your deep red lipstick everywhere; at the corner of your lips, at your chin. your eyes flutter shut, a contented sigh escapes your mouth and haley uses that as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. she drags her hand up and up, curling her fingers into the base of your neck.
you jolt, the pleasure fogs your mind; your thoughts are muddy, the only coherent thing is of haley.Â
your tongue swipes at her bottom lip, chasing the fruity flavor of cherry cola on her lips. itâs sweet, sheâs sweet. you feel lightheaded with the overwhelming sensations of it. sure, youâve kissed once or twiceâbut it never felt like this; soft and desperate and hot and tingly, affecting you all throughout your body.Â
your breaths are labored when she pulls away and you feel it's too soon. a clicking wet sound when her mouth disconnects from yours that makes you shiver. you feel dizzy with warmth; heat is pooling low in your belly, a low buzzing sensation overwhelms everywhere haley touches.Â
her lips as wine-red as yours. the same color lipstick smeared messily on her lips. haley wipes the corner of your cupidâs bow, where some of the color had smudged, her breathing heavy and pupils dilated as you stare. her hands feel delightfully warm and soft against your skin. golden strands of hair brush against your cheeks, making you squirm in your seat.
you can barely restrain your delighted giggle, in awe of the absurdity of the situation. haley laughs too, a light sound like a tinkling bell. you slump against the cold tile wall behind you, boneless and in disbeliefâ did you really just make out with your best friend? and at a grimy club bathroom no less.
time seems suspended here, cramped in a stall with only the sound of heavy breathing. there will be a lot more questions when you leave, lingering glances at your pleasure-pulled hair and smeared lipstick.Â
this is what friends do, what you and haley do. your eyes track her every move, unabashedly staring as she readjusts her top. haley catches your eye, smiling like the cat that got all the cream.Â
she cranes her face to your ear, whispering. âthanks for the touch up, babe.â
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Haley! I donât play but my bsf loves her <3
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i have a haley work in progress,,, take that as u will
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Good luck, babe!
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homecoming | sam x reader
word count: 3.2k
tags: hurt/comfort , family struggles , reader and sam are married , set somewhere in year 2 (kent is back) , oneshot , intimacy
synopsis: Sleep evades you on nights like these, without Sam by your side.
a/n: i love sam but the allure of angst is too hard to resist!!! sorry babe i still love you đ
Sleep evades you on nights like these, without Sam by your side.
Your feet are bare as you linger at the entrance of your room. The dimmed light of the living room washes away the darkness of the hour. It's late, the air is cool and damp smelling of night dewâyou take a deep inhale. It feels thick as you breathe it in, like smoke is clouding around the room, restricting your breaths.
Sleepless nights were not unusual in your household. Before you married Sam, you hardly sleptâthe satisfying ache of collapsing into your sheets after a day at the mines was an addiction you couldnât get enough of.Â
Now, you earn enough to afford coming home before sunset. No longer having to worry about how youâd afford the next day. And if you are being completely honest, evenings spent with Sam are far more addicting than the sting of a dayâs work.Â
The ache is still there. It comes with the profession. Though not anymore the dull humming ache in the muscles and joints of your arms and legs, but a bone deep ache settled deeply curling around your chest.Â
Somehow, it stings even more.
It is as if it drags over your heart, catching on every ridge and edge of your bones. Daring to fill your lungs with ichorâhardening like stone around your ribs. No amount of stardrop you swallow can ever relieve the stinging soreness.Â
The cushions of the old second-hand couch groan and squeak as you twist and turn atop of them. Perhaps as restless as you are. The light flickersâon, off, on.Â
It doesnât scare you, but it makes you uneasy. Youâre long over the notion the farmhouse was haunted, but nights like these make that conviction waver. The nape of your neck pricklesâlike a person is staring from behind. Sam isnât here to tease you about ghosts nor curl his arms around you in mock protection.Â
He hasnât been here in hours, hasnât been present in so long. It feels wrong. It feels like an omen. Your fingers find the back of your neck, brushing over the vulnerable skin.Â
You hold a tassel cushion tightly to your chest. Your knuckles whitening with the strength of your grip on it. The strength of your heartbeat is so loud youâre convinced it would be heard without the pillow to muffle the sound.Â
Little Vincent is sound asleep, snoring softly away in his dreamland. He looks like the epitome of innocence under the quilted blankets of your bed. It's soft, worn and covered in stitched cartoon-y lions and tigers. A temporary parting gift bundled up in his dinosaur backpack from jodi. Before he came to live with you and his older brother.Â
The separation was painful. there were tearsâfor both him and for his mother.Â
(Sam stood next to you then, gripping at your hand so hard you felt it prickling with numbness. You didnât dare look up to see the tears you know are there, the crystalline tears dripping down his lash line.Â
It wouldâve made the teardrops in yours fall over too. Youâd stay strong for the both of you.)
The entrance door to the farmhouse creaks open and you immediately know itâs him. Relief floods your whole bodyâto your fingertips to your toes. He's safe, and home at last. You stand up and hurry to him, throwing the pillow to the ground, before the door creaks shut.
The air goes still, calm before the storm. The anticipation before potential terrible news.
(You expect there will be. You can tell by the way Sam slumps, like the weight is physically bearing down on his shoulders.)
Sam is still at the doorway, slumping over you when you wrap your arms around him. He smells of sweat and the cloying scent of rubbing alcoholâsomething mustâve happened, you think. It smells like the clinic.
The paper bag in his hand loses from his grip, it falls unceremoniously to the ground with a dull thump. You pay it no heed, mentally accounting to pick it up later. Though you note that it lands right over your âhome sweet homeâ doormat. Fitting. Â
âSammy.â you greet him with a chaste peck on the cheek. He barely has the energy to hug back, more so stay steadily upright on his feet. you both sway slightly, suspended in the tranquility of the moment.
You try again, slowing the movement of your lips. âWelcome home, my love. you there?â
His lips move against the skin of your neck, a whisper of a greeting. It is enough for you.
Sam retracts his face from your jaw. There are blue-purple eye bags under his eyes, like bruises. The trademark twinkle in his brilliant green irises have dulled to nothingness. He looks so unlike himself like this, older than his years and so unbearably tired.
And you wish, with all your heart, to take his aches away. To wash them away like ink in water.Â
You pull him into the living room with you, the skin of his wrist enclosed in the firm guiding grip of your fingers. He's fragile like this, this sunshine of a man reduced to a shell of his usual demeanor.Â
He trails slowly behind you, silent. You say nothing, either; choosing to focus on the rhythmic sounds of your footsteps padding against the floor. In the living room, you dim the lights to a mere whisper of light.Â
These days, when he comes home, youâve built some sort of routine.
You drag him down to you, spread lying down on the length of the couch. Your thighs frame his hips as he melts into the warmth of body. He lays on top of you, his cheekbone against your chest. You watch as his eyes flutter shut, as he presses his ear to the epicenter of your chestâthe sound of your heartbeat quieting the swirl of thoughts in his mind.Â
You gently remove the woolen beanie nestled on his headârevealing the stringy oily mess of hair under. A sign of how little care he has been sparing himself after his fatherâs homecoming. You feel your lips downturn into a frown. He hasnât even been using that hair gel you like to tease and groan about.Â
(You lied when youâd say you hated it. You donât, never did.Â
You miss it. You miss the things that make him, him.)
You donât hesitate in running your hands through the softness of his hair. Your fingers scratch gently on his scalp, eliciting a soft sigh from your weary husband. Eyes watch raptly as his shoulders unwind and ripple. The tension in them melts away with the deft caress of your hands.
Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest. Like a knife twisting. You love him, you love him.
Moments pass, the silence is almost comfortable when you ask, speaking it to the silence of the room. Thereâs a wavering lilt in your voice reassuring him. You arenât going to push him for an answer. He doesnât need to respond. Him being safe, home and warm in your arms is all you ever want. All youâll ever need.
âHow are they?âÂ
(The first night, you and Sam stayed the night in his family home. squeezed in his twin bed with Vincent curled up by his ribs. The little boy couldnât bear sleeping alone that night, not with the anxiety of his father being back making him pace a mile a minute.
The air in the household had shifted that day.
In the dead of the night, the fire alarm went offâa blaring loud beeping sound from the kitchen. Totally harmless, a malfunction. A disturbance to sleep more than anything.
Except it was not.
You still remember the blood-curdling scream that came from Jodi and Kent's room. The panicked sobs of Jodi as she tried to calm her terror stricken husband.Â
You remember the way Vincent clung onto you, like a koala to a tree. You cupped your hands tightly over his earsâhe didnât need to suffer the consequence of it.
Sam removed the fire alarm and Vincent from the house the next morning.)
His voice is hushed when he speaks. A pin could drop and be more clearly heard. âMom's⌠getting better.âÂ
Not getting worse than she already is.
You plant a kiss on the crown of his head, lips soft and adoring on his skin. You ache to take his burden, to take his share of suffering.Â
It hurts sometimes, to be right beside him but feel so faraway. Yet like this, feeling every curve and edge of his bodyâyou can convince yourself that it doesnât. Â
âIs Vince asleep?â
âYes,â you reply, tucking a blond curl behind his ear. His head unconsciously tilts to the room where his younger brother rests. Ever so protective of him even like this.Â
Continuing you say, âHe was looking for you,â you thread your fingers through the short blond strands at his neck. Sam untenses slightly in your arms, his arms going limp at your sides. âHe's been fidgety lately. Restless.â
âHe usually is.â his feeble attempt at a joke. Though the rasp in his voice only makes it sound resigned. You purse your lips, eyes tracking back to the cedar wood of your bedroom door on the other side of the roomâand the sleeping child behind it.
You stroke Sam's hair, thinking. âMore so than usual.â
(You know why. He knows too. Kent wasnât the same when he returned from the war. He was vulnerable, not the fragile type but vulnerable in the way a ignited bomb threatened an explosion.
Vincent wasnât eitherâgrown much more from that thumb suckling toddler when he left.
âMy dad is coming home soon,â Sam confides in you on that day on that day on the beach. Him standing a few feet away from the shore line, and you; next to him.
âThis isnât how I wanted him to grow up,â his voice cracks with vulnerability. âIâI want him to have a better childhood than I did.â
âHe will, Sam. He will.â I know youâll make sure of it.
His eyes are red-rimmed and raw when he looks at you. All you wanted was to wipe that anguished expression off his face.)
He is silent. All is silent. Tranquility is like a honey thick syrup poured over your chest, smeared all over the expanse of your body. The soft sounds of your synchronized breathing is the only sound you can bear to hear. It makes your eyes droop, the lethargic feeling dulling your senses.
Your hand reaches for his, intertwining your palm with his long-fingered one. You relish in the familiar feeling of his calloused fingertips, earned from afternoons spent with his guitar. His skin is warm, warmer than yours. You give his hand a tentative squeeze, he squeezes back.
âMom told me to say hi to you both for her,â he tells you, his breathing slow and deep. âShe misses him, and you. Sheâs coming to visit as soon as she can.â
âVince misses her too,â you sigh, craning your head forward to peek at the top of his head. âIt's affecting him, I can tell. Penny's getting worried. She tells me he hasnât been himself at school.â
All that Sam can manage is a deep intake of breath, then a softer resigned exhale. There isnât much nor enough for him to say. Your free hand goes to smooth down his back. The muscles there are toughâbunched up and tense.
He shifts between your thighs, baring down heavier on your pelvis. Even as tired as he is, Sam is restless. Always has been, whether it be on his skateboard or with his guitar. You ignore the growing ache in your lower backâit is not your moment, but his. The warmth of his weight on top of you overpower any discomfort you have.
Twirling the stray curl at his neck, you finally ask. Fingers featherlight against his shoulder. âHow⌠is he?â
Sam stiffens above you, the lean line of his body rigid. Heâs clearly distressed with talking about his father. You suck a breath through your teeth, knocking your leg gently against his, giving your silent push for him to continue.
âI can't even lie,â he squeezes his eyes shut and turns his face away. âIt isn't good, Doc Harvey says dadâs got PTSD from the war. It's triggered by loud sounds. Remember the time he woke up because of the fire alarm?â
You nod, curling your fingers around his. You try to provide him any semblance of comfortâto reassure him. You love him, always.Â
It's painful to see, to watch what heâs going through only by the sidelines.Â
Sam looks up at you from your chest, eyes blurry with exhaustion. His jaw tensing ever so slightly, you see the patchy blonde stubble starting at the jut of his jaw. The wrinkle in his brow growing more prominent at the mention of his father. It's a fresh type of wound, raw and open. You dance around the topic, like poking a sleeping lion that threatens to attack at any given moment.
âWeâve transferred him to stay in my old room. Heâs been holed up there most of the time. The nightmares are keeping mom up. He wakes up screaming most nights." Sam rasps, squeezing your fingers. He speaks lowly against the thin fabric of your sleep shirt, the heat of his body bleeding through it and into you.Â
His voice dissolves into a pained crack when he speaks. âIt sucks.â
âIt will get better, we can get through it,â you sit up slightly, elbows bent behind you. Sam's been out the whole day. You assume he must be starving and tired. âDo you need anything?â
Sam doesnât let you up, though. He tugs you back down under him with the gentle pull of his arm. You still in his arms, looking down at him.
âNo,â he pleads. âjust⌠stay with me, okay? Let's stay like this, please.â
You swallow, nodding. âYes, of course.â
You wish you could ease his worries. You wish you could tell him that itâll be alright and he would believe it.
You love him, more than life itself. Like you are a planet that orbits around him, the sun. You show him so everydayâand will continue to do so with everyday that will come.Â
You just wish heâd be more selfish with you.
If he falls, youâll piece him back together. Glue his bones together with your hands, relying on the familiarity of his being. Anything, youâd do anything.
The matching mermaid pendants resting over his and your collarbone symbolizes that.
âI want to help you, sam. You take all this burden up on your own. please?â
He sits up, back hunched over you. A dim shadow of him filtered over you. You follow him, like you canât bear to be apart from him.Â
âYou are, you always have,â Sam softens, gazing at you so reverently you could sob. He looks at you as one gazes at master paintings, like he is in wordless awe of you.Â
The room is dark with night. If you strain your ears hard enough, the cooing of the owls filter through the cracks of your windows. The moonlight is scarce, you can barely see the expressions painting his face. Though, youâre sure your expression is as lovesick as his. Practical hearts in your eyes as you stare.
âLooking after Vince is more than I could ever ask for, honey.â he whispers, pinching the hem of your sleep shirt between his thumb and pointer finger.Â
âNo Sam,â you murmur, taking his face into your hands. your hands frame his face, warming the cool skin of his cheeks. Desperation fills every movement in a plea for him to understand. âI meant you.â
You inhale, relishing the smell of sweat, mint and rubbing alcohol on his skin. The scent smells so comforting, and so familiar.Â
You hope he finds that same solace in you as you do with him.
âI want to take care of you,â you say more firmly, stroking him on the skin of his brow bone. âWonât you let me?â
He stares at you, enveloping your hands with warmer ones. You sigh contentedly at the feeling. They sear into your skin, warming you with the righteous heat of his devotion.Â
To you, he is the sun and you have the sun right in the palm of your hands. You know he wonât ever burn you, nor leave your skin red and raw from his intensity. His rays are gentle, a featherlight whisper of a kiss on the expanse of your body.
But the sun never stops shining. It is steadfast in its duty to provide. You worry, will he explode in a grand supernova or crumple into a black hole?Â
Either way, you will never allow it. Youâd rather douse the sun in the water of the ocean to hold him in your arms. Maybe then, he can finally rest soundly.Â
You feel his thumb rub back and forth on the back of your palm, silent and considering. The brush of it melting you against him like a contented cat. A smile graces your lips, you can wait.
Though you do not need to. Sam turns his head and kisses your wrist. His nose bumping into the crease of your thumb. You feel honeyed warmth drip down your heart, collecting in the cavern of your chest.
That's all the confirmation you need.
(There are some days his words fail him. The days his mind is bursting with ideas, so much so itâs difficult for him to convey a singular thought.
That's alright. Perfect, even. Sam has always been better at expressing himself through actions.)
âI love you,â you kiss his forehead, then over each of his eyelids. You want to kiss every inch of his skin until there is nothing left to cover. âso, so much.â
You press your lips to the corner of his. Opting to speak your promise against his skin, to tattoo your undying love into the smooth expanse of it.Â
Sam tilts his head, causing his lips to brush completely against yours. He presses them firmer against yours, the taste of spearmint gum heavy on his tongue. You lick the seam of his lipsâlet me in, let me in.Â
âI love you too. more than you know,â he gasps, tearing his lips away. His breath puffing warmly against the skin of your cheek. He declares it as if heâs running out of breath, and it is his final words. A willing sailor drowning in the deep ocean that is you. âMore than anything, more than life itself.â
You press your forehead against his. Your eyes meet the depthless green of his. The twinkle is there; flickering and faint but present.
Love is what brought him to you. Itâs what keeps bringing him home to you every night. You want to be his refuge, his comfort, his partner for life.Â
Your eyes shut, eyelashes fluttering against your cheekbones. âShare the burden with me, Sammy. I can take it.â
At the end of the day, he is all you want. All that you need. If it takes him time, you wonât mind. even if it takes centuries.
Sam captures your lips again. Murmuring his agreement greedily against you. You love him, you love him and he loves you.Â
You are the one he comes back to, his spouse. The greatest love of his life. Home isnât the farmhouse youâve built a life inâ
Itâs you, always has been you.
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