🌊When Sam asked his wife to swim in the sea together after her work, he didn't know it would end like this...Maybe he could have told her to swim with their clothes on, but he said before "there is nothing better than a naked body caresed by the waves". Now he had to act nonchalant as Evelyn looked at him with those eyes and a sly smile as he tried not to explode with emotion. A flush flooded his cheeks as he tried to keep his eyes on her face and not on...well.
Evelyn: Is something wrong, sweetheart?
Sam: Ekhem...no, I'm fine. Maybe we should go back to shore before someone sees us.
More drawings on my Pinterest which I linked on my profile! DirtyJojaCan or I'm more autistic than artistic (If you can't find it, look for me under sdv Sam posts)
I drew all it /used a ready-made background and just drew the shadow around them.
When you work for an exploitative corporation, every single day feels like a burden, and every task resembles Sisyphus pushing his boulder uphill. Evelyn — that was our protagonist’s name — had only been working for the company for a year, but honestly, it felt as if the job had already hollowed her out from the inside. Her tired eyes drifted over the computer screen, while her stiff fingers tapped the keyboard at the pace of a dying snail. After six cups of coffee, she felt like she could throw them all up at once. With a heavy sigh, she leaned back in her chair and glanced around at her coworkers — all looking one breath away from collapse.
“Life in Zuzu City isn’t as dreamy as everyone thinks,” she muttered under her breath, fixing her navy-blue hair, tied neatly into a bun.
Just as she was about to return to the mental gymnastics that was Excel, a coworker from the mail department approached her desk and handed her a letter in a yellowed envelope before hurrying off to deliver the rest. Evelyn raised an eyebrow at the unmarked envelope — an old postage stamp clinging to its corner. For a moment, she hesitated, then pushed her work aside and opened it.
Inside was a sheet of paper written in neat, familiar handwriting — one she instantly recognized as her late grandfather’s. His funeral had taken place only a month ago. So how on earth was this letter just reaching her now?
> “Dear Evelyn,
I’m writing this letter because I know my time is running short. Each day I feel weaker, and it hurts to think I won’t see you again. I don’t know when this letter will reach you — communication here in the village is much slower than in the city.
Do you remember when you were little and came to visit me during the summers? I tried to teach you how to live off the land, but you always preferred fishing over planting seeds. Heh, it warms my heart to think about it now. You’re no longer that little girl, but a grown woman of twenty-three, capable of handling things on your own.
That’s why I want to ask one last favor of you… Come to Pelican Town and take care of my farm. I’m leaving it to you, because I know you’ll do fine. Your father is too busy with his own business, so I’m asking you, my dear granddaughter.
If you agree, call this number — it belongs to Mayor Lewis. He’ll welcome you into the community like family.
Farewell, my dearest grand daughter .”
She froze, her eyes fixed on the inked words as if she couldn’t decide whether it was a cruel joke or the truth. Her? Inheriting a farm she hadn’t seen in years — and running it? That sounded like an absolute disaster. She couldn’t tell soil types apart, nor did she know a single thing about farming tools. Her domain was computers, not crops.
Evelyn sat in silence for a long while before slamming her palm onto the desk — loud enough for the whole office to turn and stare. She stood up proudly, holding the letter high like a banner.
“I quit this damn job! I don’t need to waste my life away just to afford a tiny apartment in this city. I’m going to live how I want! And I wish the same for you — may you all find a way out before it slowly kills you.”
Without waiting for applause, she stuffed her belongings into the cardboard box under her desk and bolted out of that cursed building. A small pang of guilt tugged at her as she thought of the others, but deep down she knew — this was her story now.
And now, here she was, standing before a tiny, weathered cabin in the countryside, holding her suitcases while Mayor Lewis and Robin surveyed the old ruin. The redhead snorted softly, unable to hold back a laugh.
“Damn, it looks even worse than I imagined. This place needs some serious work,” she said, then turned to Evelyn with a grin. “But don’t worry — I can help rebuild it for a fair price. I make furniture and do custom work, so you know where to find me.”
“I hope you can manage,” Lewis added with a weary sigh, twirling his mustache as his gaze swept across the valley. “Your grandfather devoted his whole life to this place. ... When you get the chance, stop by the town and meet your new neighbors.”
When they finally left, Evelyn stood alone — completely unprepared, as if she’d skipped the tutorial and was now praying she’d figure it out as she went. She stepped into the small cabin and looked around the humble room: a bed, a wardrobe, a chair with a tiny table, and a dusty old TV beside the fireplace meant to keep the chill away during winter nights.
She set her bags down and sat on the hard mattress, her gaze wandering across the four walls that were now hers.
“I can do this… I have to,” she whispered, before collapsing back onto the bed with a heavy thud.
•••
The next morning, Evelyn woke at dawn, slipped into the most farmer-like clothes she owned, and stepped out of the cabin with her hands on her hips. The land around her looked as though it had been neglected for decades — overgrown grass, scattered stones, and fallen branches everywhere, making it impossible to start any proper farming work.
Just looking at it made her tired. She stretched her arms above her head and walked toward an old wooden chest that had once belonged to her grandfather. Inside, she found a few tools — a shovel, a rake, a watering can, a scythe, and an axe. She stuffed what she needed into a bag and, without hesitation, started clearing the area. Of course, every step of the way required help from the internet — she spent more time watching YouTube tutorials than actually using the tools.
When she finally cleared the space around the cabin, she stood back to admire her work, wiping the sweat from her forehead. That’s when she noticed the bushes nearby rustling. Someone was hiding there — whispering. She hadn’t noticed it before, too absorbed in her labor, but now that she realized she had a potential stalker, her patience ran thin. Grabbing the axe, she marched over to the bush in long, deliberate strides.
“Come out of there!” she shouted, frowning.
Silence. Then a tiny voice whispered, “Shh, maybe she’ll think we’re not here…”
“Don’t be stupid,” another voice — this one belonging to a girl — hissed back. Evelyn’s eyebrow twitched. Really? Did they think she was that dumb?
“I don’t have time for this. Either come out, or I’m reporting you to Mayor Lewis.”
At that, two small figures crawled out of the bushes — a boy and a girl, both around seven. The boy had messy reddish hair and a round, cheerful face, while the girl wore her dark hair in twin pigtails and looked absolutely unimpressed.
“Who are you two?” Evelyn asked, lowering her axe but crossing her arms sternly.
They hesitated, exchanging nervous glances, before the boy finally nodded and looked up at her.
“I’m Vincent, and this is Jas. We live in Pelican Town,” he said brightly. “We always used to play here — this farm was our secret explorer base! But… I guess it’s not abandoned anymore.”
Evelyn sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. Great. Kids. Running around unsupervised while she was out here embarrassing herself, trying to figure out how a hoe even worked.
“That’s right,” she said with a tired smile. “I moved in yesterday. Trying to bring this place back to life. I’m Evelyn — the new farmer around here.”
The kids nodded politely, but Jas placed her hands on her hips and squinted up at the newcomer.
“There’s already an Evelyn in town. She gives us cookies and seems a lot nicer than you,” she huffed.
Evelyn’s smile froze for a second. Bold little brat. Without missing a beat, she ushered them away, threatening that if they didn’t leave immediately, the farm’s ghosts would come out and eat them alive. The kids screamed and bolted down the path. Smirking to herself, Evelyn went back to work, doing as much as her energy (and sanity) allowed.
Meanwhile, in Pelican Town, Vincent burst into his home and slammed the door behind him, eyes wide with fear. Sam, who was lounging on the couch next to their mother, Jodi, raised an eyebrow at his younger brother’s dramatic entrance. Ever since their father had gone off to war, Sam had taken it upon himself to look after the family — a role he didn’t always enjoy but felt responsible for.
“Hey, champ. You’re home early…” he started, but stopped when he saw Vincent’s terrified expression. “What happened?”
“We went to the old farm with Jas to play,” the boy blurted out, climbing onto the couch, “but there was this woman there — she said the place is haunted and that ghosts will eat us if we go back!”
Jodi stifled a laugh while Sam stared at him in disbelief.
“Well, I’m sure she was just joking,” Jodi said gently, pulling Vincent into her arms. “But I told you both not to play there anymore. A new person moved in yesterday. Mayor Lewis helped her settle in. He says she’s a quiet and beautiful young woman — and I have a feeling she’ll bring that old farm back to life.”
Sam shrugged, leaning back with a skeptical look.
“A young woman? Please. What kind of city girl would move out here to play farmer? She’s probably crazy. Or way older than she looks.”
“Sam!” Jodi gave him a sharp look. “That’s no way to talk about someone you haven’t even met. I didn’t raise you to be rude.”
She stood, straightening her clothes as she walked toward the door. “I’m heading to the chapel. Maybe I’ll run into Lewis or Caroline and hear more about her. Behave while I’m gone.”
With that, she left, the door closing softly behind her. Sam rolled his eyes, slumping back on the couch, annoyed that no matter how old he got, his mother still treated him like a kid.
This is the first part of my fic with Sam x OC, I hope you liked it :3
Running around town from person to person, pretending to be a friendly farmer, wasn’t exactly Evelyn’s idea of fun. She was an introvert by nature, so her tendency to avoid people was more than justified.
After meeting most of the polite locals, she slowed her pace and stopped by the bulletin board mounted on the wall of Pierre’s General Store. She adjusted her signature hairstyle — two braids that always got in the way while she worked, but that she loved far too much to give up. As she scanned through the announcements and peeked at the town calendar, she heard the familiar clatter of metal wheels against cobblestone — a sound she remembered from city skate parks. She turned around and saw a young man gliding aimlessly on his skateboard, the wind ruffling his honey-blond hair and a worn-out jacket.
Evelyn raised an unimpressed eyebrow just as he kicked off the ground, jumped — and landed almost directly in front of her.
Sam stammered an apology, grabbing his board and glancing up. He froze for a moment, realizing it wasn’t old Mayor Lewis ready to lecture him about public order, but a stranger. Relief mixed with curiosity as he studied her face. Lewis despised “reckless types” like him — those who broke rules and refused to let go of their childhood dreams. And Sam, being the definition of chaos on wheels, was the mayor’s personal headache. Now, though, he was staring at Evelyn like she was some kind of goddess rather than a tired farmer who’d barely survived a day in the countryside.
“Uh— oh, um…” he fumbled, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish but genuine smile. “You must be the Evelyn, right? Everyone in town won’t shut up about you. Feels like we’ve got a celebrity here. Not that I blame them — we don’t get many new faces who actually stay. Usually, visitors drop by for a festival and vanish the next day.”
Evelyn narrowed her eyes, feeling as if his golden retriever energy was about to blind her.
“Seems like my reputation got here before I did,” she said dryly, her half-lidded gaze giving away mild amusement. “I’m just a woman trying to fix up her grandfather’s old farm.”
Sam grinned and he brought up the topic. “So you’re the one who scared my little brother with ghost stories?”
Ah, so that’s who he was. Great. Just what she needed — an older brother ready to chew her out for chasing kids off her own property. Evelyn sighed, preparing to defend herself, but Sam chuckled before she could speak.
“He kind of deserved it,” he admitted. “It was hilarious — he came home shaking, saying ghosts were gonna eat him. Mom had to calm him down.” He laughed softly, his bright green eyes locking with hers which looked more beautiful than any light blue sea — Yesterday, he’d been ready to dislike her. Now, he was acting like a total simp. “Vinnie’s still a kid, though,” he added. “Maybe go easy on him next time.”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Evelyn replied, her voice warm but a little embarrassed. “It’s just… a lot to adjust to, you know?”
Before he could respond, another voice interrupted — deep, monotone, and effortlessly cool.
“Sam. How long am I supposed to wait for you? We said we’d meet by the tree, Abby is already waiting there.”
They both turned. Evelyn’s gaze landed on a tall man dressed entirely in black, cigarette balanced between his fingers, his boots scraping the cobblestone as he approached.
Her brain short-circuited. Oh no. He’s hot. (I hear Squidward's voice from SpongeBob...) She felt as if her eyes were blessed by the mere sight of him...
His dark hair framed a face that looked carved from melancholy itself, and when he spoke again, his tone was low and dry.
“You’re the new one, huh? Why’d you move to this place of all towns?”
His voice was gorgeous — velvet laced with exhaustion. And in her head, as if on cue, she heard Ayesha Erotica’s “Hey Emo Boy” start playing on full volume.
Evelyn cleared her throat into her sleeve and gave a bright, slightly awkward smile, ignoring his sarcastic tone.
“Yes, that’s me. Evelyn Hall — new, inexperienced farmer. Nice to meet you.”
She extended a hand, and Sebastian shook it casually, barely acknowledging Sam, who stood between them — watching the handshake with growing, irrational jealousy.
Their hands lingered a moment too long. Sam’s jaw tensed, when he looked at it like a wounded puppy. Then, with a forced laugh, he stepped forward and separated them, pushing Sebastian lightly back.
“Haha, yeah! Super nice meeting you, Evelyn. Anyway, we should, uh— get going. Time’s flying!” He glanced at his empty wrist as if checking a watch he didn’t own. “See you around sometime! Bye!”
And just like that, the two of them disappeared down the path toward the crumbling Community Center. Evelyn sighed, already knowing deep down that this was definitely not the last time their paths would cross.
|
|
Sam lightly shoved Sebastian with a sour look on his face as they walked down the road toward their usual meeting spot.
He looked as if he was seconds away from starting a fight, yet something — their friendship, perhaps — held him back.
“What was that?” he asked with a grimace, tightening his grip on his skateboard, the one covered in stickers — some with band logos, one with Pitbull, and others just random nonsense.
The black-haired man exhaled a puff of smoke and glanced at his friend, one brow raised, as if he genuinely didn’t understand what Sam’s problem was this time. They argued often, but this time it felt… different.
“What was what? That handshake? It was just a handshake, dude. You’re acting weird, Samson,” Sebastian muttered, flicking ash from his cigarette onto the ground. “Besides, I don’t get why you’re acting like this. You don’t even know her.”
“That’s true,” Sam admitted quickly, then placed a dramatic hand on his chest, playing the role of a hopeless romantic. “But when our eyes met for the first time, I felt something!
I looked at her and it was as if the night itself paused — just to make room for her. Her hair flowed like dark blue velvet, the kind where all the stars had gone missing. Her eyes… they weren’t just blue, not sky or ocean blue, but the blue of silence after a storm — that fleeting moment when the world forgets to breathe. Her skin was soft as dawn, and yet in the light, it looked like it remembered every ray of sunlight that had ever existed. And her smile — it wasn’t just a smile. It was a spell. Something between mockery and a promise. She looked like a goddess who had lost her way from the heavens… but didn’t seem in any hurry to return.”
Sam went on like that for quite a while — long enough for Sebastian and Abigail, who had caught up to them midway, to exchange looks of pure disbelief, as if someone had replaced their dumbass friend with a lovesick poet. Had he really lost his mind? It was… pathetic.
“Wow…” Sebastian muttered, searching for words as Abigail clapped slowly, mockingly. He glanced around, just to make sure no one else was hearing this nonsense.
“Did you, like, switch minds with that weirdo who lives by the beach? What’s his name again — Elliott?”
“Ha, ha, very funny,” Sam shot them a glare, then sighed deeply. “I don’t know what’s going on, okay? It’s just — I haven’t seen anyone like her around here in ages. She’s like… a breath of fresh air.”
“Now you’re just being dramatic,” Abby replied, rolling her eyes. “She’s just some city girl who probably freaks out at the sight of dirt. I bet she’ll be gone back to the city in a week.”
Abigail laughed, shaking her head before digging into her bag and pulling out a few cans of Joja Cola. With a playful smile, she nudged them toward the old tree, where the trio sat down.
They opened their drinks and started chatting about random, harmless things — small talk, music, gossip — while Sam only sighed dreamily, rolling the can between his hands like a lovesick puppy.
••••
Evelyn adjusted her straw hat, gazing proudly at her handiwork — several neat rows of strawberries, tomatoes, and rhubarb.
Pierre had recommended those crops, saying they were the most profitable and easy to handle for someone just starting out. He had also suggested beans, but Evelyn hated beans — the moment she saw the packet of seeds, she fled from it like the devil from holy water. When everything was watered and glistening under the afternoon sun, she glanced to the side — and saw little Vincent running toward her, beaming, something wrapped in foil clutched tightly in his little hands.
“Oh, hey there, little one.”
She smiled warmly, though the boy puffed his cheeks in protest as he came to a stop in front of her.
“I’m not little! I’m a big boy!” he declared, then rised the foil-wrapped tray. “Mom told me to give this to you! She said it’s to welcome you to town. She hopes you’ll be friends!”
Evelyn blinked, slightly taken aback. Wiping her hands on her brown pants, she accepted the gift and opened it — revealing a blueberry tart, her absolute favorite. Her eyes widened with delight, sparkling like she’d just found treasure. Homemade cake, what could be better?
“Thank you — that’s very sweet of you both,” she said, then gestured toward her cottage. “Come inside, I’ll share a slice with you. Don't be afraid, no imaginary ghost will eat you."
Vincent’s face lit up and he followed her, hopping along happily. Inside, he looked around with wide eyes — the small farmhouse already decorated with soft paintings and little ceramic figures that gave it a warm, homey charm. He sat on a wooden chair, legs swinging back and forth, while watching her with childlike curiosity.
The blue-haired woman set the tart down on the small counter beside her portable electric stove and carefully sliced it into generous pieces. Placing two on plates, she returned and handed one to the boy.
“Enjoy,” she said with a soft smile, sitting across from him. “So… since you’re here, I bet you know a few of the town’s secrets you’d like to share, huh?”
Vincent tapped his chin thoughtfully, then took a big bite, humming in satisfaction before speaking with his mouth half-full.
“Hmm… well, Mayor Lewis sneaks out to Miss Marnie’s house at night. I see him through my window sometimes when Mom thinks I’m asleep. And Clint’s in love with Miss Emily — he kinda spies on her, but I don’t think she likes him back. Oh! And my dad’s in the army, but he’s coming home soon! I can't wait to show him how much I've grown!"
He said it so innocently that Evelyn just sat there, eyes wide, listening to all this gossip tumble out of his mouth like confetti. He knew a lot for a kid… but then again, as people say, children always know what they shouldn’t. She took a small bite of her tart, chewing slowly, unsure how to respond to his casual mention of a father at war — but Vincent saved her from awkward silence by jumping into another story.
“Oh! And between us… I heard some ladies saying Abigail isn’t Pierre’s daughter, but the wizard’s!” he said confidently, licking crumbs off his fingers. “Oh, and Abigail totally has a crush on Sebastian. She always tries to be around him and impress him. She even joined my brother and Seb's band.”
Evelyn froze mid-bite, one brow arching sharply. That emo guy? The one she had already found herself thinking about more than she’d like to admit? She didn’t even know who Abigail was, but suddenly… she didn’t like her. Not one bit.
Vincent wiped his mouth on his sleeve, hopped off the chair, and straightened his clothes.
“Just don’t tell anyone you heard that from me, or we’ll be enemies, miss Hill” he warned solemnly, then dashed out of the house — probably because his mom was waiting with lunch.
Evelyn shook her head, chuckling softly. What a little rascal. The boy had a good head for secrets and stories — and honestly, she thought it best not to get on the bad side of the local kids’ network. They could be a valuable source of information. She cleared the plates, humming to herself, and turned on the TV to unwind with her usual post-work cooking show. But just as she began to relax, a knock sounded at the door.
Expecting Vincent again — maybe he’d forgotten something — she opened it, only to find Marnie standing there with a small beige dog by her side.
“I was on my way to visit you and found this little fellow wandering around,” Marnie cooed, giving the dog an affectionate pat. “Looks like he doesn’t have an owner… and I was thinking — maybe you could take him in? He’d be perfect for guarding the farm.”
“A… dog?” Evelyn hesitated, unsure if she had the time or energy for a pet. But as she looked into those sad, soulful eyes, something in her chest melted. She nodded, almost hypnotized. “Sure… why not.”
“Wonderful! He deserves a loving new home.”
The two women watched as the dog ran around the farmyard, barking at butterflies and wagging his tail with pure joy. Evelyn smiled softly, already thinking about names — something short, but unique. After a few minutes, inspiration struck. “Serra,” she whispered to herself. And just like that, Serra became part of her little farm family.
