The Anti-Social Social Club [Stardew Valley Sebastian x Female Player (OFC)]

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"Your toenails are painted black." Sebastian said, looking down at my feet clad in my chestnut brown, worn down sandals.

"Yeah, so?" I asked, also looking down at my black painted toenails. I had just painted them the other day, so they still looked neat and fresh. For some reason, I always liked how my toes looked when they were painted black. Other colors didn't do it justice the way the color black did.

"You know what that means, don't you?" He asked, looking at me now. When he watched the screwed up, confused expression paint itself on my face, he continued, "It's like black underwear. Girls wear it when they want to get laid."

My eyes widened and I could feel my cheeks start to grow warm. "Um—"

"So, do you want to?" Sebastian continued casually, not allowing me to even think of a response.

"What?"

"Get laid." He clarified. "I'm sure Sam would give it to ya if you asked nicely." His tone was playful but the feeling I was getting in the pit of my stomach certainly was not. My jaw dropped open and now I could really feel my whole face growing warm. I didn't even want to look at myself, just knowing my entire face was most definitely a deep shade of red.

"I know he likes you." Sebastian went on, still as casual as ever as if I wasn't turning into a tomato right in front of him. "Everyone knows."

"This is so embarrassing." I said, dropping my head into my hands and hiding my incredibly hot and red face away from his piercing gaze.

"Unless," I heard him say contemplatively, "You don't want to bang Sam and it's someone else you're after."

I didn't want to respond to his theory that was most definitely correct, so I changed the subject back to the meaning of black nail polish. "Does black nail polish really mean that?" I asked, really wanting to know if he was serious. I'd of course heard about the black underwear presumption, but I'd never heard anything about nail polish colors meaning anything.

He looked at me for a moment longer, a serious expression on his face and then suddenly his mouth twisted up into a smile and his eyes lightened. He started to laugh. "Nah," He said, "I'm just making shit up to fuck with you."

I rolled my eyes and smacked him on the arm, but he caught my wrist in his grip before I could retract my hand back to my side. He held it there in between us, keeping his eyes attentively fixed right on me. We stood there in silence, looking at each other as he kept my wrist in his slightly tight grip for another moment or so before he then tugged on my wrist and forced me closer to him. He let my wrist go, and I dropped my hand to my side but stayed where he had pulled me to. He waited a moment to see if I would turn and walk away, but when I didn't, he let his hands travel to my hips. He gripped each of my hip bones in his hands roughly now, and the tight feeling of his hands on me made my mind begin to swirl with infatuation. I could feel his thumbs pressing into the front of my hip, against the belt loops of my pants. I looked up at him, watching as his eyes flicked up and down my face, jumping from my eyes to my lips, down to where his hands were holding me and then back up to my eyes again. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to rise up on my tiptoes and close the space between us, but I was afraid he would push me away, refuse to kiss someone his best friend had a crush on.

A smile played on his lips and I watched the ring piercing in his lip move along with the motion of his mouth forming a smirk. "You do want it, don't you?" He teased, his voice low and almost guttural as he referred to the meaning he had made up about my black nail polish.

My heart felt like it was in my throat as it beat so quickly in my chest. I could practically hear it in my ears and my cheeks felt hot again as a blush crept swiftly in. I had fantasized about a moment like this for over a year. I didn't ever expect the real thing to surpass my imagination of the moment, but Sebastian was making me breathless, keeping me on the edge, waiting, begging to know what he would do next.