contains ; suggestive. mostly nsfw, not too bad. established relationship — marriage. short drabble. afab!reader. harvey on the mind like always. literally no plot lol.
note ; it’s my birthday so i’m allowed to post another drabble about kissing harvey.
harvey loves a good makeout session.
it’s something about harvey you probably wouldn’t have guessed. he sure as hell didn’t tell you either, you’ve just been with him long enough to find out the truth.
he’s always a sucker for a kiss. chaste, sweet ones when you’re halfway out the door saying a quick goodbye. tiny pecks on the cheek before rolling out of bed in the morning. and then the longing ones, when it starts off simple but the minute he goes to pull away you lean up to follow, deepening the kiss while one hand gently tugs on his tie to bring him back down as the other squeezes his bicep. you pair it with a thoughtful hum, almost like tasting something savory.
he ends up a little winded after that. it catches him off guard, even though it’s within routine for you.
there’s something so rewarding about the luxury of waiting at home for his daring wife. home cooked meal resting in the oven while he sits on the couch with a book until you finally swing through the front door.
before he can even voice a greeting, you’re sliding yourself over his lap with your mouth shushing him of his words. it’s an instinct how his hands slot to your waist, palms inching to touch your bare skin underneath your shirt like a moth to a flame. his book flies forgotten onto the cushion next to you.
you slightly arch into him, hands on his shoulders to support yourself until eventually his brunette strands become a stress reliever that your fingers rope through.
all the while you languidly roll your hips against his, deepening the sloppy kiss by the second after pulling an elicit groan from the back of his throat. tilting your head, your tongue knows how to find his, your fingertips slide to scratch the back of his scalp and graze the stubble along his jaw.
maybe sometimes he thinks he’s getting a bit too old for dry humping on your living room couch—but that never crosses his mind once you’re in the middle of it.
there’s hints of your perfume muffled under a layer of grass and dirt, a scent he’s become overly fond of in the last few years.
you press your chest against his, allowing his hand to become reacquainted. despite the air of confusion he’s masking the best he can at the moment, he’s not entirely lost. this isn’t the first time you’ve come home like this, neither will it be the last. it’s hard not to act this way when you know what’s waiting for you at home.
you suck up every last bit of his breath until several seconds feel like hours before you pull away. he does exactly what you would, chasing after your fleeting touch until he’s forced to part with a frown.
“oh my god,” you sigh, rubbing your thumb across his cheek with a look of what seems to be genuine sadness.
“what, honey?” he asks with honest curiosity, his soft eyes similar to a pleading puppy.
i’m sick w a sinus infection and want harvey to take care of me 🥺
ohhh noooo, little anon i hope you feel well soon !! harvey would take the best care of you omg:
OOOOOOH MY HEART
harvey would be so comforting :((
obviously he’d be a doting boyfriend 24/7, but if you fell sick?? ohh boy dr. boyfriend is in the house !!
it’s no surprise that he knows all of your favourite foods, and is more than happy to cook up some hearty soup or a tea to help soothe your body and soul (i.e., his 14 heart event)
he’s trying so so hard to be calm, because he Knows that you’re going to be okay, but harvey is such a nervous baby :(( just wants to be by your side to look after you (he wanted to ask you to occupy one of the beds at the clinic, but was worried that the suggestion would sound over-protective)
since he can’t be by your side 24/7, harvey is 100% the type to leave encouraging messages and doodles on post-it notes around the house:
eager to help you with your medication schedule, and to make sure you’re taking their medicine as prescribed (doctors orders!!)
LOVES being able to give you massages if you ask, it may not help your illness medically-speaking, it certainly makes you feel better <3
his nerves would go into overdrive if you attempted to get out of bed to keep up with the farm work, he can take care of it !!
(at least, he can try... harvey has been helping you out around the farm for a while now, so you’d trust him to take care of the chores)
as soon as you’re back to full health, your first priority is figuring out how to make your amazing boyfriend feel as cared for as you did 🥺
he didn't get worked up like this very often, but sometimes everything just got to be too much.
little grievances piled up, like losing his headphones last week, or abigail joking that he should get a real job, or his latest client being all rude and pushy, and he just- snapped.
normally, when he needed to get away, he'd have a smoke by the lake, but today the fall rain had reared its head and he was left laying in the mud, cigarette-less, his favourite hoodie soaking in dirt.
and when he heard the squelch of boots on wet grass to his right, he wanted to scream.
so much for being alone.
there was a scuffle, and it went quiet for a second before soft footsteps began to approach him. he kept his eyes closed. the townsfolk could judge all they wanted; sebastian was not budging.
he felt a gentle kick on his arm. "sebastian," a voice whispered, the sound somehow carrying over the rain. "look what i found."
his eyes snapped open and he was greeted by the farmer's wide grin bent over him. their hands were cupped in front of them, and he sat up as they knelt, opening their hands slightly.
a frog popped its head out of the farmer's hands, and he laughed at the unadulterated glee on their face.
"their name's bartholemew," they said, as if this was a perfectly normal name. "and they're a licensed therapist, so if you wanna talk-"
suddenly, their face was illuminated by a strike of lightning. startled, bartholemew leapt out of their hands and into the lake.
"no therapy for me, then," he joked, but his chest tightened he saw their crestfallen expression. suddenly, nothing seemed more important than getting that look off their face. "there must be other therapist frogs around here. we can look together."
warmth tingled through his veins as they perked up, jumping to their feet and offering him a hand.
sebastian wanted to be alone, but with the farmer's hand in his, maybe he could make an exception.
me: all righty, a new save file! now, I'm just taking things slow this time, gonna have everyone into 10 hearts, maybe flirt to all of the bachelors/bachelorettes first before I'll choose who to marry, finish the community center first before I'll marry someone, and for every year, I'll dance to a different bachelor/bachelorette during the flower dance. yea, this'll be easy as pie.
shane who's already up to 6 hearts: lol nope, you're stuck with me now.
Hi omg I just saw the prompt list and uhh.. 2. with Shane? 🥺👉👈 Love your writing btw!
2 “Are you- are you pulling down mistletoe?”
The farmer closes the saloon door behind them, pulling off their Winter hat. The warmth of the saloon surrounds them and sooths their goosebumps from the cold as they approach the bar. Gus wishes them a happy holidays, his most festive sweater pulled over his head, and he directs Emily to get the farmer a cup of hot chocolate on the house.
The farmer then moves towards the fireplace where Shane is sitting at the bar, a a half-full mug of hot chocolate in front of him. He looks up and smiles when he sees the farmer, who sits on the stool next to him just as Emily comes and sets down their mug in front of them.
“I forgot how all-out Gus goes for the holidays,” the farmer muses, picking up their mug and blowing on it gently, the steam flowing steadily from the drink’s surface. They take a small sip, trying not to get burned too badly; Emily always practically boils the stuff.
“I think its the little things that keep him so happy,” Shane shrugs. “Something nice to look forward to.”
“What? You don’t look forward to the holidays?” the farmer nudges him with their elbow, a curious eyebrow raised.
He shrugs again. “I celebrate for Jas, otherwise I don’t care for the holidays.”
“C’mon, everyone enjoys something about this time of year,” the farmer assures him confidently. “The snow, the presents, family...” they list.
“It’s too cold for the chickens to go outside, Marnie knits me socks every year and gives me a chocolate box, and...” he swallows hard, mumbling the last part under his breath. “My family doesn’t talk to me anymore...”
The farmer frowns, feeling dim for not realizing that Shane doesn’t have much reason to like the holidays except for Jas. “Well,” the farmer says awkwardly, shifting on the stool. “I know one tradition for the holidays you might like...”
Shane takes a sip of his hot chocolate, raising an eyebrow at the farmer suspiciously but not saying anything.
“Yeah, I know one. C’mon,” the farmer sets down their mug on the bar and gets to their feet, reaching out for Shane’s hand. “You can leave the mug here, it’s okay,” they promise but he doesn’t lose his skeptical look. He puts down his mug and takes their hand, allowing them to guide him away from the bar.
The farmer stands in the doorway to the arcade, a smile spreading across their lips. Shane stands outside of the doorway awkwardly before the farmer tugs him to stand with them, giggling softly. “What is it?” Shane cracks a small smile, seeing the farmer shift their weight between their feet nervously, slightly bouncing up and down.
He is in sort of a bad mood, thinking about things he normally ignores, but he can’t help but crack a smile when the farmer is acting so nervous. They don’t say a word before flicking their eyes upward, lifting up one arm to grab something. Shane’s eyes follow their hand as they wrap their fingers around a small green plant, unhooking the string tied around it from the thumbtack holding it up.
“Are you- are you pulling down mistletoe?” Shane asks suspiciously, the farmer holding it up for him to see.
“I thought it might be a tradition you like,” the farmer shrugs innocently, a mischievous smile forming over their face.
“In front of everyone?” he asks, his cheeks slowly growing rosier in color.
“Nobody cares,” the farmer’s smile grows, “’tis the season, right?” Something in Shane’s eyes flicker, still blushing brightly as he wraps an arm around the farmer.
“You gotta hang it back up for it to work,” Shane reminds them, gently taking it from their hands and standing on his tip-toes to hang it back up in the doorway. His eyes drop back to the farmer’s after it is hung, and before he can lean in, the farmer wraps their arms around his neck and meets him where he is, giving him a soft kiss that he returns right in the arcade doorway.
"HONEY!" Elliott barges in the occupied room, jolting the farmer stiff and wide-eyed in response. "Y-yes, dear..?" Elliott seemed ragged and disheveled as he stared wildly back.
"Tell me the name of the thing with the basket and the soiled clothing???"
"A-uh... hamper..?"
As if the meaning of life itself dawned on him, he slaps his head in exasperation. "Right! A hamper!"
He mumbled to himself as he left with disapproving shakes on his head.
contains ; entirely fluff! sfw! budding relationship. fem!farmer. sam teaches u how to skateboard <33. drabble.
note ; it breaks my heart that it doesn’t seem obvious sam is one of my favs. i need the world to know.
a new farmer moving into town didn’t mean much to a few neighborhood ears.
there was chatter about how eager the older residents were to meeting the person who would clean up the old farm. people were interested in seeing a new face, but it wasn’t like anyone was pleading for it.
overall, everyone was a little bit surprised when the new farmer happened to be a pleasant, youthful woman taking her grandfathers old cottage.
especially with how eager you were to introduce yourself.
spending the majority of your days wandering around town, trying to catch any new face and at least learn enough about them to be use it as an excuse to see them again.
it might’ve been viewed as a bit irresponsible at first, especially to some. this was the person who was trying to fix up the old farm?
it seemed like a waste. but you were sweet enough that it was only a passing observation to a few.
which is probably why it came as a shock when you’d be seen in the weirdest of places—crawling from the mines covered in soot and rock, lugging large fish around in the smallest backpack, eating seemingly inedible items found off the ground.
and although you started to become quiet chatter to the town, you didn’t seem to care. maybe you didn’t even notice.
you were a nice sight to a few, at least.
sam liked you pretty quickly. he’ll like anyone if they’re kind to him, that’s for sure.
you were special though. the first time you met, it was beyond comprehension to step outside of his room and see a stranger laughing with his mom and little brother in his kitchen.
“oh, sam, this is the new farmer. this is my son, sam.” jodi so kindly introduced for you, catching the blonde in a bit of a shock so soon after he woke up.
and despite that short interaction, you’d still go out of your way to say hello any chance you had.
“what kind of fish is that?” sam called as he approached you calmly, finding you at the river on his way home from work.
you turn, a little startled from the sudden voice that caused you to flinch, losing your grip, and send said fish back into the river out of your hands.
your shoulders slouch while your eyes following it, swimming down the stream, a little frown on your cheeks that enabled his quick apology.
“oh! i didn’t mean to scare you,” he chuckles for just a second, “i’m sorry, i owe you a fish!”
you face the blonde who approached your side, shaking your head. “you owe me a sunfish, actually.” you give a small smile, “good quality too. lost some precious gold on that bad boy.”
“then i really owe you a sunfish.” he rubs the back of his neck with a laugh. “sorry about that, though.”
“it’s fine. i’m super tired anyways, and it wasn’t that good of a sunfish.” you sigh, bringing yourself to your feet and reaching for your bag you left resting beside you, slipping it over your shoulder.
your eyes glance to the man beside you, a quick once over and the question falls from your lips, “what’re you wearing?”
he looks down at his shirt like he doesn’t remember, before he perks up. “oh! this is my work shirt—i work at jojamart.”
“oh really?”
“mhm! just finished, actually.”
“what do you do there?”
he straightens his posture just a little, keeping eye contact on you with the same boyish grin on his cheeks. “i’m a janitor, usually.”
“ah, so you’re good at cleaning?” you hum.
he laughs. “my mom might disagree.”
his reply earns a small laugh from you, one that makes his smile only grow after hearing.
after which you shoot off a couple goodbyes, turning around to head back through cindersap to make your way home. he’s still smiling after he manages to sidestep his mom’s curiosity, the fleeting interaction on his mind just a bit longer.
and the next few days were full of the same quick interactions; all of which he was looking forward to more and more.
you were always doing something, he would always ask a question about it, and it’d move on from there.
quick, but enjoyable. might’ve even started to become his favorite part of the day.
“you can skateboard?”
the familiar call of your soft voice, slightly raised only to catch his attention quicker made him around in surprise.
just by chance, he happened to be mid-failed kick-flip.
it felt like deja vu when you tease, “oo, maybe not.”
“you caught me at a bad attempt!” he justifies, painting the grin you’ve become acquainted with when he pauses to face you.
you came walking from the forest beside his house, catching him in the middle of his hobby, asking him a question instead of the other way around.
your backpack characteristically rests on your shoulders, large and full just as similarly. it’s almost distracting just how heavy it always looks, but still, you’re rarely seen without it.
he keeps his foot resting on the board just so it doesn’t roll away, yet his attention was now entirely focused on you.
“and for your information, i can skateboard.” he boasts properly, in a way that doesn’t scream douchey, only deserving.
you click your tongue, approaching him. “i dunno…from the looks of it, it seems you don’t really know what you’re doing…”
his jaw drops, feigning offense. “if you’re so good, why don’t you give it a try then!”
he picks up his shoe, taking a step back as if to say, “prove it.”
your eyes flicker to the board, mouth twitching as you formed the words to counter, only to then just stop when you realize you definitely can’t prove it.
your hesitance did nothing to falter sam’s inevitable smile. instead, it turned into a faint smirk, and a short chuckle that lead his arms crossing over his chest.
“you can’t skateboard?” he says more so then asks.
his words could sound condescending, but there’s nothing rude in the tone he uses to speak to you. in fact, it’s all just genuine curiosity.
“…maybe. who’s to say i have the time to learn?” you shrug, pursing your lips.
he unravels his arms, stepping over his board once again to slide it back in front of him.
“well, do you?” he word-vomits.
no. you don’t. you have an actual job that requires a lot of attention, and time-management. you’re lugging around a backpack full of supplies that probably need to be given to someone before their shop closes, yet here he is asking if you can spare just a few extra minutes of your day to stand on his skateboard, of all things.
it’s only when you give him a look that causes his smile to falter. it’s a short one, one he can’t read, yet it somehow gives him enough time to feel his heart drop just a few inches, and enough time for the nevermind to form on his tongue and nearly fall out before—
“alright, why not?”
he could sigh of relief when you slide the bag down your arms, dropping it just a couple feet away.
“but i gotta know i’m in safe hands, first. do a trick or something.” you easily ask as a joke, but he doesn’t take it as such.
he’s already prepared to hop on the board. the tip of his foot presses against the back, pausing for a moment before he quickly bends his knees, and jumps a couple feet in the air, the board following just under his feet before he lands within seconds.
and by the time he does, he’s grinning like he accomplished something huge, opening his arms in a silent, “ta-da!” manor.
you laugh. “alright, i shouldn’t of doubted you.”
“that’s right! you’re in the safest of hands, that’s for sure.” he takes a step off, leaving the board vacant just for you.
it’s obvious you’re only a little bit nervous; and frankly, that upsets you a tad.
why? you’re not sure. you explore caves like it’s nothing, kill monsters like it’s a regular day. falling off a little skateboard won’t do much besides a little bruise on your butt, or scrape on your knee.
yet you look down at the board like you’re intimidated by it. like it has the ability to purposely knock you off, make you look like a fool in front of the guy you spend a bit too much time thinking about.
“don’t worry, you won’t fall. i promise, i won’t let that happen.” he sweetly reassures, almost like he can read your mind.
you glance into his eyes, scanning for sincerity despite knowing it was already there.
you take one step closer, close enough that you’re both nearly sandwiching the board on the ground.
you can blame it on instinct—because it actually was—when your arms reach out for him to latch onto.
he can do the same when his hands grip the undersides of your forearms, using minimal strength to ensure your safety. both of your eyes fall to your shoes, waiting for you to raise your leg and press against the board.
it takes you just another few seconds to lift your stabilizing foot off the concrete, instantly tightening his hold on you.
you start to wobble, and the height plus the instability makes it easy for you to latch onto him too.
“you’re okay! see, it’s not too bad!” he continues to reassure.
despite your gaze never leaving your feet, he’s finding his focus to be glued to your face.
whether he’s scanning for any sign that you’re uncomfortable, or using that as an excuse to look at you so up close, his gaze remains soft and understanding.
“do you want to try to move?”
you nod, silently scanning the concrete for any minor obstructions that could potentially get in your way, clog the wheel, and send you flying.
he takes one small step to the side, appropriately accustomed to your liking, and because of your solid grips on one another, that short step has you moving with him.
“why can’t i stand still?” you frown, almost sounding annoyed at yourself.
“because your feet are too close together. you gotta balance on the weight of the board. like this,” he demonstrates by showing you exactly what you should be doing, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach when you hold on even tighter (like that was possible) to recreate his exact stance.
you start to grin when his advice works.
“see, there you go. you wanna move a little further?”
you nod almost instantly, the elation of how well this is progressing for you making you eager.
he repeats the same action as before; this time taking a few more steps to the side to drag you along—each of which you let out a noise of excitement.
your grip calmly loosens the further he walks you, while his does nothing to falter. he picks his speed up when you show a bit more confidence, and slows down when you show hesitation.
he works with how you’re feeling, even if you don’t say anything. and although you’re silent, it doesn’t go unnoticed.
“you think i can let go?” he asks softly, glancing up at you.
instantaneously, your eyes widen in fear nearly the same second you feel bold enough to nod your head.
“okay, you’ll be fine. i’ll still be here.”
there’s something so shocking at how gently he speaks to you. it’s peaceful, his tone perfect to calm and ease you, like he’s done this before.
which shouldn’t be such a surprise. sam’s a sweet guy, who clearly cares for the people around him. you’ve spent enough fleeting moments together to know that already, plus how much jodi will talk your ear off about him. vincent too. it was one of the first things you noticed about him.
he’s so delicate when he takes a step back, slowly removing his hands from your arms, even after you nervously clutch him for just a fleeting second.
and when he’s fully let you go, you turn into a deer in headlights, frozen on the board that’s ever so slightly rolling to the side.
his stifled laugh makes you purse your lips, glaring over at him.
“see, you’re a natural!”
you both know he’s lying.
“how do i move?”
“you have to kick your feet.”
you don’t do that. instead, you reach both hands to the side, and grip the air like you’re tugging on a rope, moving one inch forward.
and even then you lose your balance just a tad, unattractively allowing your arms to flail forward like you’re begging for him to hold onto you again before you fall.
the laugh he lets out falls louder then before, sounding more like a wheeze as he emphasizes, “it’s okay, i got you, i got you,” while your nails dig into the fabric of his jacket.
“what do you mean kick my feet?!”
he’s still laughing, “you have to drop one foot off, push against the ground and hop back on.”
it sounds easy enough, but for some reason the simplest task makes your eyes widen, jaw fall ajar like he just offended you personally.
he takes a second to explain it, slower this time. his patience was another thing that’s adding a little tally of interest in your mind.
you carefully step off when he offers to show you, making room for him to hop on almost like it was second nature, kick against the concrete, and skillfully swings back into place while he glides like he’s showing off.
he does the same thing to bring the board back over to you.
“easy peasy. anyone can do it!”
you slouch, pursing the tiny frown on your cheeks once you realized it was showing.
you reach out just like before, waiting for him to help, which he does. you align your feet just like before, waiting a few moments before you give him a nod that tells him he can let go. even though he’s not holding onto you, he still keeps his hands out so they’re easy to reach just in case.
your trial and error only takes a couple tries, both of which ended with you nervously hopping off before you could hurt yourself, despite sam’s watchful eye and the fact that he’d never let that happen.
but by your third attempt, blood flowing with determination, you take a slow deep breath like you’re preparing for an important race.
you give yourself one short push off the ground, swinging your leg just like he taught you back onto the board while you slide across the ground.
before you even stopped, your eyes lit up, an immediate smile widening on your cheeks at the realization that you finally did it.
“you’re a pro!” sam loudly cheers, clearly just as ecstatic as you.
both of your reactions match up—squealing before you even hop off the board, throwing your arms up triumphantly.
you didn’t even go very far, less then 10 feet away. but he’s still jogging towards you like you won an olympic gold metal.
“told you you could do it, what did i say?” the way he animatedly moves his arms makes you laugh.
and maybe he was reaching his hand out for a simple, measly high-five, but you fall further then that.
still giggling, grinning till your cheeks ache in pain, your arms swing around his neck.
yet he didn’t even hesitate to wrap his own around your torso.
you hardly did anything. you hardly moved. you’ve only been learning for about fifteen minutes. it’s not like you deserve this much praise, but there’s no way he would agree.
his constant expressions of how proud he was fell straight to your heart, because you knew he meant it.
it takes another moment before you pull away, allowing your plump cheeks to be his main focus.
“that was really fun. i need to get back to work though, clint’s closes in less then an hour.” you sigh, shooting a short glance over the blonde’s shoulder to check your if your bag had somehow disappeared.
“i’m glad you spared some time.”
“me too. maybe next time you can teach me that little trick you did.”
his eyes follow as you walk towards your backpack, reaching down to once again slot it over your shoulders as usual.
obviously i want to write all of the bachelor/bachelorette x reader content, but there are some specific dynamics that i hope to explore (even if they're just headcanons/drabbles):
leah/elliot (t4t)
my lil' artistic duo !!
one of the only "canon" pairs i'm rocking with tbh
i personally headcanon both elliot and leah as trans, so i feel like that + their individual struggles with their art can make for such a cute dynamic
emily/sandy
my quirky mystic lesbians wowow
i don't see a lot of content about sandy tbh and i would love to explore that at some point !!
is this a rarepair?? they're just both so cute idk
alex/m!farmer
dont hate me for this, i just think alex's character arc is so much more interesting if you play as a male farmer in the game !!
homoerotic tension? internalized homophobia?? potential angst??? i hope we're all seeing the vision here
maru/penny
my favourite academics !!
we all see their little dates, sat together on the bench by the saloon <3
with both of their stress, familial pressures, interest in education, i feel like theres a lot of fluff or angst potential
abigail/seb/sam (ass polycule)
obsessed w/ these goofy teens
maybe i just want to write a love triangle that's ACTUALLY a triangle, and not two people liking the same love interest-- normalise polycules in fiction >:0
we love a dorky band that plays dnd together and fucks !!
