#Elliott x reader

[sakurocha]

CAN WE GET SOME OLDER BACHELOR HCS UP IN HEREEEE

- certified enjoyer :>

hello anon!! thank you so much for the ask, i hope i did them justice ehehe this was so fun to write, i look forward to writing more for these three <3

fluffy older bachelor headcanons !

featuring harvey, elliott, and shane ♡

⊹₊⟡ harvey

the highlight of his long days at work are when you pop your head into his office

"excuse me, dr. harvey?"

you find his reaction amusing whenever you pretend to be a patient, the way he startles and tenses at first before relaxing as soon as he realizes that it's you

"you scared me, love. come here, i'm just finishing up."

quiet quality time with him is always the best; your presence is simply more than enough to put him at ease, especially after burning the midnight oil at work

you don't mind simply being around him at all, watching him work, seeing if there's anything you can help him with, whether it's fetching a fresh cup of coffee or massaging his shoulders

he's so, so grateful for you all the time, but even more so during moments like these

he's always checking up on you, asking how your day was, if there's anything he can do to help, or if anything interesting happened

such a great listener; whether you're relaying the neighborhood gossip from jodi or recounting the fruition of a giant melon that day, he's always nodding along, stroking your arm gently while giving you his full attention

he just loves to hear you talk and listen to your stories, which you are never short of!

the both of you are quite busy during the day, so he always looks forward to curling up with you in bed after a long day with steaming mugs of tea and bundles of warm blankets

even better if it's raining—he just loves doing anything cozy with you by his side~

i imagine one of his favorite date activities to be ceramics

he frowns whenever he compares his product to yours

"you're so precise with your hands, darling," he says, laughing softly at his creation, which wasn't bad at all! it simply had a few... quirks, which you absolutely adored

"it gives it character, harvey. i love it."

you keep his pieces in the living room of the farmhouse, somewhere you can see it all the time, a constant reminder of his comforting presence

meanwhile he uses the mugs you've sculpted for him on his work desk, always filled with steaming coffee, the caffeine and your love for him more than enough to power him through long days <3

⊹₊⟡ elliott

loves taking walks with you, whether it's through the crisp cindersap forest or the familiar shores in front of his cabin, waves lapping peacefully at the soft sand

always picks out things to show you, from glittering seashells to blooming flowers

he likens their natural beauty to yours, never failing to make you blush

he does that a lot, even without realizing it

his words are just so poetic and swoon-worthy, you can't help it

he gives an amused smile when you flush with embarrassment, pressing a smooth kiss to the back of your hand like a true gentleman

"i apologize, have i flustered you, darling?"

speaking of being a gentleman, this man is the epitome of one

every single time he picks you up from somewhere, without fail, he always shows up with a breathtaking bouquet in his hands, just for you

"your favorites, my love," he says, with all of the charm of an old-fashioned gentleman in a romance movie

the two of you look good together, and all the townsfolk comment on it

"the farmer just glows next to him, do they not?" "that is what i'm here for," elliott replies with a proud smile as you flush at the compliment

he's always so, so proud of everything you do, even the smallest things

i imagine he loves big, celebratory hugs, spinning you around in the air whenever you tell him a major accomplishment, making you really feel like the lead in a romance movie

"yes! i always knew you could do it, my love," he says, proud eyes shining bright

the romance between you two is just so sweet, romantic, and poetic, with every day with him feeling like a fairy tale

he's your knight in shining armor, while you are his muse

and he makes sure you know it, constantly dedicating songs and poems to you, his favorite aspects of you sprinkled throughout heartfelt lyrics and stanzas

you love him more than he could ever know, and he feels exactly the same way about you <3

⊹₊⟡ shane

you absolutely love teasing him; he always acts like he fucking hates it but you know he loves it 🤭

i imagine you have an insane assortment of ridiculous pet names for him, from shaney-poo to mama hen, each rendition getting more and more creative

he gets more horrified each time

"how the hell didja even come up with that?!"

it's just too easy to poke fun at him. it's just inherent in your dynamic. <3

you're always pushing him to try new things that are way outside of his comfort zone; you're his perfect foil

and even if he grumbles in protest at first, in the end, he just loves spending time with you

your first idea was accompanying him to the saloon, which he was surprised about

but you had other plans >:)

after the first round of drinks, you were feeling particularly mischievous

so you took his hand and dragged him out of his usual corner, swaying your hips

"come onnnn, shaney! let's dance!"

"oh HELL no." he was rooted to his spot at first, but as usual, your charms had worked on him, and he eventually gave in

you even got some laughs out of him! mission success :)

he can feel himself opening up the more time you spend together, from trying things he would never have before to becoming more vulnerable around you

which is why he's always so grateful for you, even if he struggles to show it sometimes

when the two of you are alone, he's a bit more liberal with his affections

wrapping his arms around you from behind, giving small pecks to your cheek, tickling your skin with his stubble

on the other hand, you're always on him whenever you can, clinging to him like he's a giant teddy bear

hugging his arm whenever the two of you are walking, looping your arms around his neck when you talk to him, peppering his face with sweet kisses

he acts all irritated, but in reality, he's just flustered by your boldness heheh

"why so grumpy, shane?" you ask, pulling away from him after dotting tiny pecks all over

".... 'cause you stopped," he admits, bashfully averting his gaze <3

thank you so much for reading! requests are always open~ ♡

[peachy-skies-writings]

Hi! I have a small scenario: The farmer'a parents are visiting for dinner or something, can you do HCs on how the bachelors would react to meeting their partner's (the farmer obvi) parents for the first time? Female farmer prefered, but it doesn't matter much

Hello, apologies for the delay! Here you go - hope you like it.

Bachelors Meeting f!Reader's Parents for the First Time.

💚🏈 Alex 🏈💚

Alex would be nervous but he’d conceal it pretty well.

Definitely would tell jokes to his partner’s dad to get on his good side and compliment her mother (in a nice way, like “Oh? Y/N? You never told me you had a sister!”). If your dad likes sports, bonus! Alex would be in his element.

He’d be pretty chill around them and I think he’d come across really well.

🧡📖 Elliott 📖🧡

Sauve. But he’s still a bit nervous about it. I think most people would be. He’d really want to make a good impression because he really loves you.

Would dress up in his finery and would speak incredibly well. This man has played out this day in his head with 100 different scenarios, he knows what he wants to say.

Good impression for sure, your mother is like wow this guy is so fancy but your dad is like “can he support you with being a writer?” Overall though, they’re happy for you.

🤍🩺 Harvey 🩺🤍

Not the first parents he’s met since he’s a bit older than the other bachelors but definitely more nerve-wracking than the others - he’s pretty sure you’re the one.

Would bring the wine and just hope that he picked something that everyone liked. Honestly if he believed in Yoba, he’d be praying.

Your parents LOOOOVVEEE him, like this dude is a doctor AND he’s in love with you. Solid. 10/10. They love him so much.

💙🎸Sam 🎸💙

Sam has this thing when he’s nervous where he just talks. Just keeps going. You might have to remind him to calm down and just shhh a little bit.

Honestly though, I think your parents would find it endearing. I think he would just talk about how great you are.

Overall, it goes well and they like him. Just hopefully he gets less nervous next time.

💜🎮Sebastian 🎮💜

He’s very nervous and is quiet throughout most of the dinner. Seb manages to pluck up the courage to talk a few times when he remembers that Robin said to make a good impression, and it goes over well.

You’d already explained to your parents that he was really quiet so they were expecting it. No surprises there. Your mother did wear her frog brooch though as a talking point which you thought was sweet. (Seb did talk about frogs for 15 minutes though, but hey, at least it got him talking)

He’s sweet and I think parents would like him, he’s just quiet and if he makes you happy, your parents are happy for you.

🖤🐓Shane 🐓🖤

Shane would be the most nervous of all the bachelors. May have to get a pep talk from Marnie.

He’d stumble over words a few times but overall, I think he’d do quite well. He’d make conversation and I think he’d be quite funny at times.

Your parents are pretty understanding that he’d be nervous so they don’t mind the awkwardness at first. Once he’s settled though, it’s like he’s part of the family.

[alicenchanted]

Night Swim

Elliott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were feeling particularly down today, not your usual peppy self. Elliott wanted to find a way to cheer you up, and thought the best way might be a playful swim. It ends up far less playful, and more steamy by the end, though.

Word Count: 2,795 words

AN: Don't ask me if fucking in the ocean will mess up your ph balance folks, that's what fiction is for. Ily yearning Elliott <3 you're canon. This fic has fingering and sex in the water ofc.

Read on Ao3

Hm. The waves were uncharacteristically warm today. Salt crusted the sand under your toes, smooth and buttery after hours in the harsh sun. Fishing had been a flop yesterday, and sometimes the heat made the smell of your bait too strong to endure for long periods of time, so you ditched the rod this evening. You  choose to spend your free time just sitting by the tide pools. Resting.

Today was a good day for it. Sometimes there was this strange guy that stood out along the edge of the beach, but he was gone now, hidden away from the clear, dusky sky. The waves were rhythmic and soft, creeping up the sandbar to trickle into little rocky formations. You ignored the crabs and corals, forcing yourself to be unproductive. Too often you got caught up in worries of money, of preparation. Your time at Joja really had messed you up, making you forget that there was value to be found in nothing, in idle time.

The sand shuffled behind you, and a tall figure settled into the sand next to you. You turned, facing Elliott. His long red hair was pulled back from his face, the small coils at the nape of his neck plastered down with sweat. 

“Farmer,” he said with a little smile. 

“What are you doing out here?”

“I live here,” he teased, knocking his shoulder into yours. He sensed there was something off about you today. Normally, you were the sunshine covering the town with your rays. Today, he could see the little rain cloud above your head. “Why so sullen?”

You shrugged, not wanting to get into it. Elliott was so rigorous, pushing himself to write each and every day. Book, exercise, drabble, one-shot… he always had something on the burner, and you were- well- burnt out. 

“C’mon, you know you can talk to me. We’re friends,” he said, and then a bit more warily, “right?”

You finally cracked a smile. He could be a little insecure at times, but it was cute. “Yes Elliott, we are friends.”

He visibly relaxed, and you couldn’t help but laugh. He let the sound fade into silence, prompting you to explain. You sighed. “I feel… guilty sometimes. When I’m not working.” He nodded, not interrupting you despite the pause. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be a bummer. I guess after so many years of constant working, constant thinking even, I just don’t know how to let myself be.”

Elliott hummed in thought. “It’s a good thing to be dedicated to your work. It shows a sense of pride, responsibility.”

“No,” you rubbed your temples. Maybe he just wouldn’t understand. “I mean it’s all I think about. Constantly. Did I do enough today? Did I mess up my harvest patterns? Did I forget to pet one of the animals? Did I sleep enough? Do I deserve a break?”

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean, ‘do you deserve a break?’ Of course you do. You’re always out and about, working far too many hours.”

“It doesn’t feel that way.” You hugged your knees to your chest, curling up. “I feel like no matter what I do… it’s never enough.” 

He stiffened at the sight. You were never like this. Despite the fact that you two had become fast friends, he wasn’t sure what to do. Elliott was the one always running to you for help, not the other way around. It was… strange to see your lack of confidence, the way your spunky facade was crumbling. 

Elliott thought for a few minutes. He often struggled with work himself. No matter how much writing he did, he never believed he had earned the right to call himself a writer. It felt like too big an accomplishment, too important a title. It didn’t matter how fancy he dressed, how many quills and inkwells he squandered money on. It felt like a grown man’s game of dress-up. You had been there for the worst of those moments, your smiling face in the crowd of every reading at the museum, no matter how long. You had been there through every night he spent stubbornly drunk, wasting himself to sleep.

You didn’t need his stoicism right now. Gods, you were such a sweetheart. He couldn’t stand to see you like this, feeling so worthless. Not when your presence lit him up like the sunrise. He landed on an idea, something he had read lately in… a completely normal and not sexually explicit book. He was a proper gentleman! Proper gentlemen could indulge themselves though, right? It didn’t matter now. The idea was risky… but it had seemed to delight the protagonist.

“Do you… want to go for a swim?” It was tempting. You looked so perfect in the dimming light, your face highlighted with the purples of sundown. 

“Not right now, Elliott…”

He bit his lip. Ah, that was not the response he had hoped for. It wasn’t like him to beg, to push, but there was more on the line for him than just your feelings. You naked, for one thing.

“Why not? It’s a fine evening,” he kept his voice deceptively calm as he slid off his shirt. He flexed casually, just in case you were watching.

You looked up at him, unamused. “Are you serious? I don’t even have my swimsuit with me…”

He supposed it was a little out of character for him. He didn’t like the feeling of salt in his hair, preferring to let the sun kiss his skin on a sunny blanket. Actually getting in the water was not something he did often. But sometimes, life called for exceptions. Something about turning lemons into lemonade, but you wouldn’t catch him daring to use such a cliche phrase aloud.

“Me neither,” he added, stripping off his pants. Was this too forward? How was it that he could read so salacious a romance and not act half as charming as the male leads? There was no time to question himself. You never questioned yourself where he was concerned. 

“Elliott, you live right over there… I’m sure you could grab a swimsuit. I live all the way across town.”

“Solidarity then,” he said proudly, hands on his hips. “Don’t tell me you’re going to be a chicken, farmer.”

You laughed softly, standing up to meet him. “Well isn’t that ironic…”

He considered for a moment. “Technically it’s not an example of true irony as the ancients would have-”

“Oh, don’t start.” You groaned and threw your shirt to the ground, effectively shutting him up. Your sports bra was nearly soaked through with sweat, the night still warm despite the retreating sun.

Elliott’s throat tightened, and he distracted himself from the sight by stripping off his pants. He wandered over to the edge of the water, up to his ankles. It wasn’t cold… but his skin was delicate. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea.

“Who’s the chicken now?” He turned to see the cocky smirk on your face as you finally raced past him, splashing out until the water lapped at your soft, sun-bronzed thighs. 

There was just enough light in the sky to see the hint of red dusting his high cheekbones, and you smiled helplessly at the sight. He seemed to be avoiding your gaze, and your general direction, though you didn’t know why. You were in a shitty bra and farming panties. They were nothing special, that’s for sure. 

Elliott waded out toward you, his teeth gritted as he waited to acclimatize. “I don’t understand why you’re so happy all of a sudden, it’s freezing…” he said dramatically.

“Is not.” You rolled your eyes. “When you spend all day every day sweating out a gallon of water in the sun, this feels like a dream.” He stayed tense, refusing to draw further into the sea. “Did you need some help over there?”

“With what?” he said quickly. Too quickly. Dear gods, had you noticed? He waded out a little deeper, carefully fixing his boxers and avoiding the sight of your ass. Suddenly, he did wish the water was truly freezing. Your panties hugged your cheeks perfectly, making his mouth go dry and his boxers get woefully tighter. 

“With this,” you slid your arms beneath the water, sending a sharp wave his way. 

“Agh!” He made a strangled sound as the salty droplets spattered his skin, drawing a giggle from you. The sound made him roll his eyes, but any ire faded as he admired the smile on your face. “Seems you’re feeling better now. All it took was tormenting me…” he grinned down at you, watching you duck under the calm waves.

“You’re being such a baby… this is basically bath water.”

“Perhaps for a child sick with fever, I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy.” Despite his complaints, Elliott sank down to his chest, kneeling comfortably on the sandy floor.

“Oh, let me try!” You dropped down to your knees, your head immediately sinking beneath the surface of the water. 

He chuckled, “I never thought my height would feel like such an accomplishment, but it feels good to beat you at something.”

You shook off the water like a dog, your hair gathering into soaked clumps. Elliott’s laughter faded, he was staring you down now. You picked at your hair, “What? Is there seaweed in it?”

“No,” he mumbled, drifting closer. He brushed a wet strand from your forehead. 

“What is it, then?” You felt heat rise in your cheeks.

“Nothing, you just look…” he swallowed again, the apple of his throat bobbing, “beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, smiling at the compliment.

“No, I mean… very beautiful.” He cupped his hands gently around your face. They were big, warm. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”

“Elliott-”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that… you’ve been upset today and I don’t want to take advantage-”

For the second time today, you shut him up. His lips were warm, slightly hesitant. He made a muffled sound of shock as you kissed him thoroughly, but after a few seconds, he was all over you. 

His strong, muscled arms slid around the dip of your waist, hands bracing your back as he pulled you closer. “You’re so warm,” he mumbled, not bothering to pull away from your lips as he spoke. His tongue traced your bottom lip with skill. He was hungry for you, yes, but he wasn’t sloppy. He knew exactly how to kiss a woman. 

He swallowed every little noise you made until you were both breathless, and he pulled away, panting. “We have to stop.”

“Why?” Disappointment laced your tone.

“Because I’ve been hard for the better part of an hour, and if you keep kissing me like that I’m gonna finish in my boxers.” He brushed back another lock of your wet hair, smiling ruefully, “I’d rather not have our first kiss go that way.”

Unable to help yourself, you brushed a hand down his front. Your fingertips slid down the little trail of hair, then down to the v-line of his hips, and then just a bit lower. Fuck, he wasn’t lying. He shivered as you cupped him. He relished the feeling of those strong hands, so gentle with him.

“Ah- please… don’t tease me,” he groaned, nearly whining. Restraint echoed in his words, and he let go of you just a little, afraid to pull you closer.

You squeezed his bulge just a bit and he grunted. “What if I want to.”

He cupped your hand beneath the water, his thumb stroking your skin as he meant to pull it away. He paused. “What?”

You slid your hand down past the elastic band of his boxers, finding the base of his cock and gripping it. “What if I want to tease you?”

He grit his teeth, his hands finding the small of your back again, inching lower to the soft skin of your ass. His breaths were ragged, fading into little grunts as you squeezed him at the base of his thick shaft. “Can I touch you, please?” He nuzzled his face into your neck, tongue darting out to lick a trailing droplet of sweat and sea water from your hot skin. 

In answer, you began to stroke him, tugging his boxers down to rub your hand from base to tip. Your thumb found the sensitive band of skin right beneath the head, and you stroked over it, making him buck his hips in instinct.

“Mm, I’m gonna fuck you if you do that again- Please say I can touch you-” Elliott’s voice was desperate, but he would wait until you said yes. You put him out of his misery, nodding and sliding your thumb over his tip.

The growl that followed was nearly inhuman, and within seconds he had your bra unclasped and your panties tangled around your knees. He grunted, fussing with the wet clothes, “Stupid- ah- take them off.”

You laughed and shrugged, “Sorry, they’re farming panties.”

He spared you a look of amusement, and then he had them off of you. You watched him fling both of your wet undergarments toward the beach. They lobbed into the sand like bricks, landing with an unceremonious thud. 

Those would be difficult to clean later, covered in sand- but oh. Any thoughts other than pleasure fled your mind as he slipped a finger inside you. You remembered where your hands were, and remembered that you should be stroking him, not just gripping him like a lifeline. You twisted your wrist, changing the angle and pressure, and he let out a strangled gasp. “No- let me get you ready first. I’m too close.”

It would have been fun to watch him spill all over himself, but you needed him to fuck you way too badly. Your hands wound around his neck instead, letting him cradle you in the water as he slipped another long finger into your pussy. 

“Ah- Elliott.”

He bit his lip, curling his fingers tentatively as he searched for the right spot. You purred when he found it, and he hooked deeper, adding his thumb to your clit to rub in tandem with each stroke inside you. The water lapped at your shoulders, a soothing kiss against your steaming skin. A wave of pleasure crashed over you as he settled into the perfect rhythm, and soon you were crying out. “Ah- enough, enough… I need you inside me…”

He somehow managed to look cocky, even as his breathing labored into rough pants, “You wanna cum on my cock, huh?”

You nodded. Of course he would find a way to come out on top, even when he was seconds away from spilling. Tease. You yanked his boxers down, lifting up to wrap your legs around his waist. The water made it easy to climb him like a tree, and before he could even moan you had his cock notched at your entrance. 

Elliott slid forward, indulging you in your pleasure. He agreed, apparently, that now was not the time to wait. His hands gripped your hips, leveraging himself as he began to thrust. “Shit,” he swore under his breath, already a wreck. “I’m not gonna last.”

“Me neither,” you purred in his ear, nipping and biting along his neck. You wanted to feel him lose, to let go and fill you.

He rumbled a low warning sound, his fingers pinching your clit. “Ah ah, I won’t have you cumming after me.”

He thrusted harder, rolling the little bud between your legs each time his tip found the furthest barrier of your walls. You held out, trying to think of your soggy farming panties instead of how good his dick felt stretching you out, but it was no use. Your mouth found his shoulder, biting down softly as you came, and he grunted at the pain and pleasure. He managed a few more sloppy pumps before following you over the edge, filling you with hot cum. 

After a few sweet kisses, he was pulling out of you. The slow, curling waves brushed the cum from your thighs, leaving you mostly clean, but still soaked with salt. You cringed at the thought of it drying on your skin.

As if sensing your thoughts, Elliott grinned. “I think we’re both due for a long, hot shower.” He drew out the words ‘long’ and ‘hot’ until they dripped with innuendo. 

You grinned. “I don’t know how you survive out here on the beach every day.”

“I only go in the water on special occasions,” He said, a pleased note in his deep voice. “It was worth it to see you smile, and watch you cum.” He winked and led you back to the cabin, squeezing your hand tight.

[velvetlilith777]

Fighting Frostbite

Elliott x Fem Reader

18+ NSFW 🌨️ MDNI

Author's Note: heheheeheeeee I saw this post on Pinterest and knew our favorite author would be perfect for the plot! <3 I hope you enjoy!

Synopsis: A ruthless blizzard has made its way into Stardew Valley, separating you from your beloved poet. When enough is enough and Elliott makes the trek to your farmhouse, his hands get a little too cold...

Disclaimer: I am not someone who subscribes to the popular idea that Elliott isn't rough in bed! That man loves you, and he's gonna give it to you 🫶🏻

CW/TW: there's really a plot here if you squint but it's actually just full on smut, unprotected p in v, oral (male receiving), deep throating, hand job (female receiving), the poet is hung your honor, praise kink baddies rise, frostbite mentioned but not legit

Minors and ageless blogs do not interact! You will be blocked.

Word Count: ~1.9k

Dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws (trees) and @animatedglittergraphics-n-more (snow) 🖤

🎄Ficmas Masterlist! 🎄

Smut under the cut!

The forecast had been bleak. Well into the deep of winter now, meteorologists had been warning of a vicious snow storm moving in for weeks, with temperatures falling well below freezing. Yesterday she came in fast and with a fury, burying the valley in feet of snow with no sign of stopping in the coming days.

But farm work stopped for nothing, the weight from the snowpack breaking and warping some of the older fencing you hadn't been able to replace yet, having to repair holes you weren't aware were causing drafts in your barns, troubleshooting a broken heater and of course, feeding and caring for the dozens of little lives you kept on your property.

It had been a long, arduous and frigid day, all you wanted was to run a hot bath, warm your skin and relax your muscles. So that's what you did, adding some lavender epsom salt as water fell from the faucet and lighting a few candles to set the mood. You finally sink into the steaming water, skin tingling with warmth as your mind lulls off.

Elliott on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to see you. He knew the weather was bad and you had been busy because of it, but it had been days since you’d been able to see each other. Deciding that enough was enough, he bundled himself in his thick, wool coat and scarf before heading out into the bitter climate. It had been too long since he’d seen his muse, so if a trek through heaps of snow was what separated the two of you, then he’d certainly do it.

Creaks cry out from the old hinges on the farmhouse door, causing your eyes to pop open. You aren’t expecting anyone, but your mind eases when you hear a familiar, deep voice call out.

“Hello?”

Elliott. It’s just Elliott.

“In here!” You melodically call.

“Oh, there you are my love. Staying warm?” His face flush from his trek in the outside elements.

“Trying.” You rest your head and arms on the side of the tub, looking up at the writer fondly. “My heater is struggling to keep up but the water is nice.”

“It looks like it,” He lets out a hearty chuckle at the steam still dissipating in the air as he places his scarf and coat on the counter next to your sink.

Elliott kneels down beside the tub, placing a kiss on your temple as he does so.

“So sorry for arriving unannounced, darling. I simply missed you too much to wait for this storm to pass before seeing you again.” He coos, reaching his hand to cup your cheek.

“Elliott!” You jump at his icy touch. “You’re freezing!”

Taking his hand in yours, you begin to examine his skin. Cherry red flush colors his knuckles and finger tips.

“I don't think it’s frostbite,” you remark, “ but just in case.” In one swift motion you shove his hands into the water next to you. The redhead sucks in a breath through his teeth, flesh burning at the sudden change in temperature. “You should've worn gloves, handsome.”

He chuckles. “Yes I suppose I should've. An unfortunate oversight on my part. I was just in such a rush to get here that I forgot.”

Your brows furrow. “Elliott, you have to take care of yourself for me. What if you lost all of your fingers to frostbite?”

Pulling a hand out of the water and placing it gently between the thighs near your knees, he squeezes the chub lovingly.

“Have I told you that I missed you already?”

“You may have mentioned it.” Your saccharine voice tails off.

“Let me say it again” his voice low, “because I really, really missed you sweetheart.”

Elliott catches your lips in a sensual kiss, his movements slow but firm. Eventually, his tongue pushes through your lips and begins dancing with your own. Your arms wrap around his neck, in an effort to pull him closer despite the tub wall separating the two of you. His hand kneading at the flesh of your leg harder now, sending heat rushing down to your core. A whine finds its way from your throat to his mouth, a growl leaving his in response.

The author pulls away from your lips, dragging your bottom lip for a moment with his. You stare into each other's eyes, mesmerized by your lust.

His large hand slowly slides down the inside of your thigh towards where you need him the most, his sight never leaving your face despite yours watching his wrist sink beneath the water. Your legs spread open as he’s nearing his destination, the need in your stomach growing tighter and tighter.

Gasping as his fingers find your clit, your eyes lock back onto his as he begins to rub small circles around the bundle of nerves. Speeding up to a moderate pace, his lips mold into a soft smile as moans start spilling out of yours. Your gaze never leaving the other’s until the coil in your stomach starts burning hotter. Obscene sounds getting louder and louder, falling out of your mouth more rapidly as you throw your head back. Elliott dips his head down taking a damp nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping at the mound, making your pussy throb and your toes curl.

“Ri-Right there El.” Are the first words you’ve mustered in minutes. His fingers ruthless against the bud, melting your brain. “Stay there and I’ll cum.”

His digits remain where you tell him, but his pace speeds up. Your core begins tingling, burning as cries are torn from your throat. Water is swirling about the tub due to his movements, sloshing around and mixing with your voice in a symphony of his efforts to have you reach your climax.

“Show me how much you missed me beautiful,” He mutters against your skin, kissing his way up to your collarbone before marking the sweet spot. “Let go for me, love.”

In the following seconds, the heat in your stomach boils over. His name is torn from your throat, and he thinks it may be the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. Cunt pulsing under his touch and muscles twitching as his motions continue. What once was pure water is mixed with your juices gushing out of your sweet hole. Your hands find his shoulders, anchoring themselves on them as your vision goes fuzzy.

You ride through your orgasm, his fingers working you through it as he mutters “That’s it. There’s my beauty.”

You press your lips to his as his movements still, hungrily and desperately. Tangling your hands in each other's hair, gasping and puffing in between sloppy kisses.

“Need more of you,” you pant against his mouth.

He pulls away, your chests heaving in unison.

“You've always been able to have as much of me as you desire, gorgeous.”

Without hesitation, you're picked up bridal style and taken to your bed, being sat at the foot of it.

Your hands rush to his belt as he pulls his sweater over his head, broad chest flexing in the moonlight beaming through your window. Once the button on his pants has been undone, he feverishly pushes them down, his heavy cock springing up as it's freed.

Knees hitting the floor as you sit before him, hand taking his member as you run your tongue along the underside. His long fingers tangle in your hair as your tongue circles around his tip, already dripping with precum. You push his head into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and sucking. He draws in a breath, stopping himself from ramming his dick into the back of your throat, letting you take your time.

You finally give him what he’s craving, working your way down his shaft until you're choking, the vibration against his sensitive tip driving him crazy. Your head starts bobbing back and forth, grunts spewing from the man towering above you as you slurp and pump. Refusing to take any less of him than you can, tears start streaming from the corners of your eyes as you continue shoving him into your throat, the imprint showing through your neck. Auburn locks fall around his shoulders as he tosses his head back in ecstasy. Your tongue swirls around his tip as you speed up your ministrations, his fingers pulling even tighter on your hair.

“You're doing too well, love.” He stops your movements, pulling out of your pretty little mouth with a pop and standing you up to kiss you deeply. “I was far too close, and nowhere near finished.

The writer turns you around and pushes you onto the bed, positioning you onto all fours. He leans down and licks a stripe from your clit to your entrance before inserting two fingers, moving them in a scissoring motion to stretch you out.

“You're already so wet for me again.” Elliott muses.

You let out a moan, rocking back in his fingers before answering. “When am I not wet for you?”

He laughs heartily, “Is that so, darling? Then you must be ready for this.”

His fingers leave you empty, but it’s only for a brief moment. His thick cock lines up with your entrance, before gliding in to the hilt. Your core is stretching and burning wonderfully as he begins railing into you.

“Three days is most definitely too long to be away from my muse” he grunts out between thrusts. Your tits bounce stunningly as his hips rock aggressively into hours, marks forming from his fingers holding onto your flesh.

“G-god Elliott,” You sob out. “You feel so goo-od.”

Elliott knows your body well, but that doesn't mean his heart ever swells any less when you tell him that he’s working you right.

Freckled skin leans over your back as his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Yeah? You're taking me so well my love. So well.”

You feel that same lighting start charging inside of you, sweet little hole squelching around Elliott’s weighty girth as it drags across the velvety spot inside of you. His orgasm isn’t far behind, with you squeezing him just right and moaning out his name sinfully.

“El! El I’m gonna cum again,”

“Me too, dove. Let me feel you cum around me. Cum on my cock, darling.” He growls out.

Those words have your waves crashing into the cliff, cunt fluttering around his mass while your back arches into the mattress below you. He’s only seconds behind, white hot spurts gushing out of him as he ruts into you, thoroughly milking the both of you.

As your highs die down, you both crawl to the top of your bed, wrapping yourselves in your quilt and each other's arms fully spent. Before falling asleep you grab his hand, bringing it level with your eyesight.

“Stopped the frostbite just in time,” you giggle.

He laughs quietly and shakes his head. “Whatever would I do without you, love?”

“Clearly, we never should go days without seeing each other again so that we don't have to find out.” You smirk. “I happen to like all of your fingers.”

He snorts at your implication. “I know you do, darling. I suppose I’d have to agree. I don't want to go that long without you again.”

[mongoosingisme]

hiiii if you’re looking for more requests i would love to see your take on the older bachelors in a dom/sub dynamic (maybe see them as both? 👀) no rush or pressure tho just craving more of my favorite old men as told by my favorite fic auth <3

Heyyyyyyyyyy friend!!

Freestyled a bit on this under the cut.

Thank you for asking!!

Elliott

Elliott liked to be in charge.

It wasn’t a control thing, really. It was more a combination of a vivid imagination, excellent verbal skills, and the confidence to go into an encounter with the assumption that you wanted to please him.

You do want to please him, don’t you?

Don’t you want to make him smile? Make the backs of his fingers stroke down your cheek? Make him murmur about how lovely you’re being for him, how you’re being just the sweetest little thing, the stuff of his fantasies, looking up at him all wide eyed from down on your knees?

Yes. He knows you do. And he’ll reward it for you soon, you just have to wait a little longer. Just a little longer, darling. You can do it. Because he loves watching you squirm against the ropes around your wrists. Loves the sounds you make as he strikes his palm against your ass. Loves how eagerly you follow his instructions.

Come sit on my lap, darling.

Open those sweet lips for me. Ah - ah… I didn’t say to close them. Keep them open for me. That’s a love.

Keep those eyes on me, honey. Don’t look away. Right here. It’s all you need to see.

Elliott is good at knots.

Elliott is good with his tongue.

Elliott is good at knowing when you’ve had enough, and when you need him to push you a little more.

He likes to tell you what to say, feed you lines like you’re a character in one of his stories.

“Tell me you want my fingers inside you. Tell me you want them deeper, harder. Oh - oh - oh… that was a lovely noise. You made it when I did… this. Ah, there it is again. Keep making it, darling. It’s transcendent.”

Elliott is all slow movement, drawing things out, making you tremble and whimper and beg before finally, finally giving you what you both want.

And when you’re done, all fucked out and sore in the best kind of way, all spacey and relaxed and looking up at him with that look that makes him shiver, he’ll kiss you on the mouth and draw both of you a bath.

On the flip side, Elliott has a hard time letting you be in charge.

He’ll do it for you. Eagerly, even. He likes new things. He wants you to be happy. But oh man, whether he realizes it or not he’s going to fight you for it.

He’s not trying to be bratty. He’s not trying to be annoying. He just has ideas, okay? Suggestions. If you’d just do this, then that could happen. If maybe you’d shift this thing, then he could do that. All in his head, all unable to get out of it.

Then you order a ball gag and it all kind of clicks into place.

He’s patient as you practiced your knots. He shivers as you run your hands over his chest. He’ll look up at you with dark amber eyes as you work at him. All sweet and pliant and quiet in a way that was still loud, somehow, because he was Elliott and even with something in his mouth he can’t help but give you feedback.

You like his muffled groans.

He likes it when you ride him.

He likes it when you degrade him.

He likes it when you pull the gag out of his lips and tell him to put his mouth to good use.

Elliott is good with his mouth.

Very, very good.

Tell him that and watch him flush and work harder. Grab him by the back of the neck, but be gentle with his hair. Rock your hips a little, he can take it.

Give him all the care in the world when he’s done. Kiss his neck and hold him close in the bath. He’ll be quiet then, fingers tracing over the faint marks left by the ropes on his wrists. Tell him how proud you are of him and feel him shake. Tell him you love him and watch as he melts into you.

Elliott has a hard time letting you be in charge, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want it. Once you get him there you’ll find that every ounce of effort is worth it.

Harvey

Harvey is there for you.

He can read you like a book. He knows exactly what you need from the second you walk in the door.

If you need him to be in charge, that’s what he is. All calm, mild voice telling you exactly what to do.

Go wait for me in the bedroom, sweetheart.

Take off your shirt, then come over here.

Touch yourself, honey. A little slower. Well done, just like that.

All big, steady hands on your body. Cupping around your throat. Grasping gently at your hair. Maneuvering you underneath him. Teeth scraping against your neck, a belt around your wrists.

He likes to tell you no. Click his tongue in gentle condescension when you whine. Tell you that you need to try harder, to be patient. Tell you to be good for him.

Harvey isn’t the type to punish. He doesn’t like to inflict pain. But frustration is a different thing entirely, and he loves having you under his hands, gasping and arching and pulling against your restraints, only to back off at the last moment and leave you gasping his name.

Or the opposite: too much touch, drawing you up and over, again and again, until your body feels like one exposed nerve and pleasure is flirting with pain and finally, finally he’ll sink into you all heavy and full and warm and deep and good.

He’ll praise you, then, as he takes his turn. Tell you how incredible you are, how lucky he is to have you there like that. How crazy you drive him, how distracted you make him, how you’ve changed his life so completely.

And he’ll stay there when you were both done, holding you close, checking your wrists, making sure you’re okay. And of course you’re okay, he always makes it all okay, and the only thing better than his hands on you all strong and sure is the way he’ll tuck you under his chin and let you drift off into sleep.

But…

Sometimes he needs to let go of that control.

You’re always more than happy to oblige.

You can tell by the set of his shoulders when he needs to be told what to do. To be questioned, to have his desires dragged out of him.

“Do you want to put your mouth on me, honey? I bet you do. Look at you. How do you want it? Hard or soft?”

He always wants it hard. Always wants your fists in his curls. Always wants to be on his knees, looking up at you through his glasses. He’ll groan when you press a finger into his mouth, watch you as he sucks. And then when you pull him in he’ll make a sound like relief, all deep in his throat, all hands grasping around your thighs, glasses pressing into the bridge of his nose, long lashes fanning on his cheeks.

He uses his mouth like a man starved.

Or push him back on the bed, lash his hands down. Watch his hips shift. Straddle his chest and make him watch while you touch yourself. Or settle over his mouth. You’ll love the sounds he makes.

Maybe you’ll let him come too. Or maybe not. It’s up to you. He wants it to be up to you. He’s very patient. He likes to be told no. He likes to be told wait. He likes to be told oh, you want to come? You think you’ve earned that? Really? It’s so cute that you think that.

Watch him work even harder after that.

If he finishes or not, he doesn’t care. All he cares is that when he’s done you’ll pull him to your chest, hold him close. Let him listen to your heart. Run your fingers through his hair. Press kisses to his forehead. Tell him what a good job he did.

Because don’t forget: Harvey is there for you. If you’re getting what you need, so is he.

Shane

Shane’s just happy to be there. There with you. There with you beneath him, all soft skin under his hands. Letting him move you. Letting him see you move.

Shane knows where he wants your body to be.

He wants it where he can get at it. He wants it loose and relaxed and yielding. He knows where to put his hands to make that happen. What part of your hip to press. Where to grab on the back of your arm. Just how hard to push your face into the bed to make you cry out and squirm.

He likes the squirming.

He doesn’t have the patience for knots.

He doesn’t care about you being good.

He doesn’t want you to be good.

He wants you pushing back, rolling out from under him so he can pull you back in. He wants your hands grabbing at his hair so he can grab your wrists and press them back into the bed. He wants you rearing away from his kiss so he can grab you by the jaw, pull you back in, get his mouth on you all rough and hot and perfect.

You fucking love it.

Love how easy he is to goad, how strong he is, how he doesn’t hold back when he cracks his palm against your ass. The things he says. No one has even spoken to you like he does, never, you’d kick them out in a heartbeat, but once Shane got going it left you breathless and whining and begging and desperate to please him.

(Fuck, look at you baby, so fucking needy for it, aren’t you? You’re practically drooling. Fuck, you are drooling, aren’t you? Yoba, aren’t you embarrassed by yourself? Squirming around like that? Bet you’d beg for my cock, wouldn’t you? Gonna beg for it? Open up that slutty little mouth and beg for me. There you go. Fucking knew it. Don’t stop. Keep going. Tell me how bad you want it.)

You want it real bad.

And he’ll give it to you, all unrestrained movement and heavy grip and that mouth still going, telling you exactly what to do, exactly who you were, exactly what you were doing to him until it was all too much and it was just movement and force and his face buried in your neck as he groaned your name and melted.

Or…

Maybe you don’t let him do any of that.

Maybe you get your hand in his hair and watch his eyes go blank.

Maybe you pull, get him down on his knees.

Maybe he looks up at you, lips parted, breathing hard.

Maybe you pull again, harder.

Maybe you like the way his pupils dilate.

Maybe you like the way he groans.

Maybe you tell him to touch himself.

Maybe you don’t.

He’ll do what you tell him regardless, especially if you tell him he’s being a good boy.

He really, really likes it when you tell him that.

He’ll keep his hands on his thighs if you tell him to.

He’ll go without air if you tell him to.

He’ll kiss the ground you walk on, if that’s what you need from him.

Just keep him there. Keep him near you. Between your hands. Between your legs. Between your foot and the floor.

(fuck, baby, baby, fuck, if that’s what you want, fucking anything baby, I’ll do it, just tell me, anything anything anything.)

He is extremely eager to please.

He does an extremely good job of it.

Because Shane’s just happy to be there with you. You’re the only person who makes sense in this shitty, shitty world. Anything he has to give, everything he has to give, anything you want and are willing to take, is entirely, unendingly, eternally, emphatically yours.

[autumnywinter]

Yandere Elliott Headcanons (Stardew Valley)

TW: Yandere behavior, suggestive content, insinuated threatened suicide

Yandere!Elliott is the pinnacle of an obsessive yandere. Of course he has some possessiveness and protectiveness too, but above all he is obsessed with you.

He's a tad bit delusional, but does occasionally have some self-awareness. He's fully aware what he's doing isn't normal, but he truly believes everything he does is for you, and his intentions are all that matters. Love is a complex thing, right?

Though he isn't the type to murder unless completely necessary in his eyes, he will do many other things "in the name of love".

Will send glares at anyone who he thinks is taking up too much of your time (when you could be spending it with him) or gets too touchy with you.

If he thinks someone is a little too interested in you, he'll gently plead as your beloved friend that they're bad news. If that doesn't work, he'll personally confront the person in question, claiming that he has blackmail, whether he's bluffing or not.

Of course, he does send love letters from a "secret admirer". Sings you constant praises and confesses all the horrible, shameful thoughts he has. But while writing in his exquisite cursive, you'll notice when it becomes more sloppy, a telltale sign he got a little too excited confessing his infatuation with you.

Stalks you very often. Whenever you're sick, there's a basket with medicine, snacks, and flowers at your doorstep, all gifted to you by your devoted secret admirer ♡

He isn't very good at hiding his obsessive tendencies. After all, who else in town writes with such delicately scripted words?

When you're deep in your friendship with Elliott, it becomes even more obvious. His face is bright red, and he has an almost drunken smile whenever you're near him. Buries his nose in your hair and inhales, always commenting how heavenly you smell, how right you feel in his arms.

Sneaks into your house while you're gone or asleep. Won't do anything but watch you, even if he's tempted to do more. Just viewing your such peaceful, serene state is enough for him. Sometimes.

Other times, he takes your belongings. He returns them--most of the time--but of course he keeps a few keepsakes, too. Underwear, lipstick/lip gloss, toothbrushes even. Despite being vanilla, this man is a freak.

Will take his time building up your affection. As much as he'd love nothing more than to sweep you off your feet immediately, he can be patient. As long as you keep being your incredible, sweet self to him.

He'd much rather not have to resort to kidnapping. He wants you to adore him as much as he adores you, and he has some self-awareness that if he kidnaps you, there's a good chance you'll hate him forever. The mere thought makes him feel terrified.

If you confess your love to him first, he won't cry, but he will be on the verge of it. This is all he could've ever wanted! He can now be as flirtatious and romantic as he'd like with you now and not be seen as creepy!

Him confessing his love first would be planned out very carefully. He'd try to seem like his usual charming and smooth self, but you'd notice how he'd occasionally stammer a little, and how his entire face is tomato-red.

Only when you're married will he seem to tone it down. He's even more obsessive than ever, but he doesn't follow your every movement as much. Not unless he grows suspicious of you. He'll be more heartbroken than genuinely angry if he finds out you've been cheating or have fallen out of love with him.

Before he met you, he was depressed and believed everyone had a soulmate but him. You are his reason for living, without you he is nothing. And he likes to think you think the same way vice versa, deep down.

Never would hurt you, but can be a little scary. He switches between loving, to hysterical, to eerily cold. Will insinuate and say terrible things when you've been distant to the point he thinks you might leave him.

"...Dearest? You know I love you, right? If you were to leave me, I really don't think I could live with myself."

"If I had it my way, you wouldn't need to ever leave the house. In fact, you don't need to. I can provide for us both. Is there any reason you insist on leaving me all day?"

"Sometimes I'm tempted to tie you up and keep you all to myself. Not that I'd actually do that, haha... maybe one day."

Just make him believe you adore him as much as he adores you, and everything will be fine! :)

[megwritesriddles]

I. Would. LOVE. NSFW head cannons for Elliot (SDV) if you have the time!! 💕💕💕 I just romanced him for the first time and adore him.

MDNI 18+

thank you sm for the request!! I hope you like it!! loooove Elliott but only romanced him for the first time recently too so hopefully I got a good enough grasp on him!!! (´ ω `♡)

word count: 0.7k

all fandom masterlist | sdv masterlist

Definitely a super ‘old-fashioned’ romantic type

He likes to light candles and scatter rose petals whenever he wants to make love to you

He never calls it sex or fucking, it’s ‘making love’ or ‘carnal pleasure’ or a myriad of other flowery euphemisms he comes up with

I imagine he often pours you a drink beforehand, wine or champagne (some nice homemade juice if you don’t drink alcohol), enough to make you feel nice and loose but never enough to impair your consent

Will always take time to admire your appearance, even while inside you, waxing lyrical about your beauty

Such a rambler! He is constantly talking to you during sex, praising you, admiring your beauty, telling how good you feel around him, how good you taste

(I feel like he would sometimes say something so poetic that he’d want to stop and quickly go write it down, but after you got annoyed with him the first time he did it, he decides pleasing you is more important than his writing)

Loves to tuck your hair behind your ear or push it from your face.

“Eyes on me, darling, show me all the pleasure you’re feeling,”

He’d totally be a missionary guy, but then I feel he’d also be up to try out some very out there positions if he comes across them in his reading

Finds you irresistible, always admiring and touching

So! Many! Erotic poems and letters! Like so many… seriously…

He would definitely send you a normal love letter and include an obscene line right at the end to mess with you

“All in all, I am looking forward to the upcoming Egg Festival! I cannot wait to bury myself between your immaculate thighs once more and feast until the sun rises in the east, your pleasure is my sole reason for being, the ultimate balm to my weary soul. Write back as soon as you can, my dear, I am dying to know how you have been!”

You are the muse for all of his works, he has mostly been writing erotic romance since the two of you began dating

If he’s trying to figure out how to write a scene, he will just get you to re-enact it with him… and then once again because he forgot that he was meant to be making mental notes the first time

He’s very passionate, often sweeping you off your feet with romantic gestures, suddenly overtaken with a ravenous need for you which may lead you to secluded corners or behind trees in the forest

Although he prefers to set up a romantic atmosphere, these 'rendezvous' are something he craves from time to time

Some nights he has you sit between his legs, his fingers buried inside you as he reads an erotic novel aloud over your shoulder, matching the movement of his fingers to the action in the novel

Definitely has such a sexy deep voice he puts on when he reads to you

Lots and lots of kissing! on your lips and butterfly kisses all over your body

Definitely loves it when you run your hands through his hair

Whispers sweet nothings to you in public

“I can’t help but remember how divine you looked beneath me last night,”

“I do so love it when you bite your lip, my darling,”

Would definitely love to see you in luxurious clothing or lingerie

A big fan of perfumes, always notices the moment you try a new one

A lovely scent on your skin could easily be enough to arouse him

He is all about beauty and sensuality and the experience of it all

The smells, the tastes, the sounds, the sights!

Definitely would love to listen to soft music while you make love 

Or the sounds of the rain or the ocean while you are safely indoors and warm in each other’s embrace

Would enjoy tracing your body with a feather, caressing the curves and plains reverently

So much hyperbole and melodrama! You are a goddess, he would move the earth for you, no one has ever been so alluring as you! But he completely means every word

-------------------------------------------------------

hey you! want to get tagged in my work when it comes out? click here! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

[i-write-things]

I'm just imagining how Elliot would react when he hears the farmer passed out in the mines. I imagine he's maybe hunched over a writing desk, candle by his side as he revels in the cozy writing atmosphere he created. Then suddenly, he gets word that his dear farmer passed out in the mines all battered up and bruised. I can see just a shocked writer face as he drops his writing utensil. After three seconds of utter shock and no one moving, he rushes out the door, faster than his legs have ran for probably ever. When he arrives at the hospital, he's all over Harvey, asking if you're ok, when you'll be out, if there's anything he can do, ect. The man sits in the waiting room anxiously waiting, his knee bouncing and his clenched fist hiding his nervous mouth chewing away at his bottom lip. Finally, when he sees you come out of the room, he rushes to you and starts questioning you. Are you ok? How much do you hurt? How sore are you? Why were you out in the mines like that if you could get this hurt? While he questions you, he gently examines your arm and face as if he was the doctor and not Harvey. After you reassure him three times that you're fine, the fear and worry fade. Then he gets a little upset, asking why you were being so reckless and things of that nature. Oh, you are getting the lecture the entire time he escorts you back to the farm. He also forces you to rest in bed. Oh, no no no. You're not moving from that spot. It doesn't matter what you're doing, you're staying there. You've done enough. He grabs you whatever you need, like food, water, ect. It isn't until your about to sleep that he tucks you in with a sigh, and apologizes for his behavior. He didn't mean to react so harshly, but you mean so much to him, he hopes you understand. But you're still not off the hook. He clings to you side for the next two days. Married? Good, he watches you from the house, and if you show any signs of soreness, he takes over and tells you to head inside while he tends the farm. Only dating? He'll visit you as often as possible, at least ten times daily. Oh, and there's no way in hell he's letting you go back in the mines until he is certain you'll be ok. After maybe two weeks at least will he begrudgingly let you go after he stocks you up on Energy Tonics and snacks. And don't you dare hesitate to leave the mines if you feel weak or tired. Because he'll start the process all over again. Please, please try to take care of yourself. The poor author doesn't need that kind of stress, his hair will fall out, and he loves his hair.

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Elliott (Stardew Valley) General Dating Headcanons

🌙 Ever the charmer, Elliott is a hopeless romantic. Ever since you had presented him with that bouquet of flowers, he never felt such a passion in his life and it's all because of you; And for that, he's made it his mission to treat you oh so well in life.

🌙 One of his favorite things to do is write to you and especially write about you. He loves to leave notes everywhere for you so much so that you've made it a game as to where the next note will be. It's gotten so grand that it's expanded outside of the farm with notes being found in the forest, on the beach and even in the bathhouse.

🌙 Aside from writing, he's picked up a passion for art once again. He used to have the passion years ago, but that fizzled out. He had taken up writing to fill the void, but because of you, he's become inspired once more. He's already filled up one thick book of sketches and paintings, and they're all mostly of you. He loves to stand at the large front windows of the farmhouse and draw you while you're out and about on the farm.

🌙 He often finds himself trailing off while writing, sometimes catching himself mid-sentence writing about you when the book he's currently working on is completely romantic fiction. It happens a lot when you both are staying inside for the day, working away at domestic life.

🌙 You help him more than you think you do at times. Sometimes when he's stuck on what to write or where to take things, he often just starts writing about you and what all he wants to do with you and to you. It often ranges from the lightest of touches to the steamiest raunches. He's thought about being a smut author from time to time because of it.

🌙 He isn't just a diehard poet, his skillful hands are good with another form of the arts, too. Upon moving in, his piano came with him. He loves the memory of you two moving it past midnight, laughing to yourself as you carefully rolled it through town. It had gotten stuck on both the sand and the cobbled paths of Pelican Town numerous times, but it was worth it in the end.

🌙 He often plays the piano when he's in a bit of a rut, tickling the ivories to strike up some ideas. He absolutely loves it when you sit on the bench with him even if you don't play a single note. He loves being next to you when he's indulging in his hobbies.

🌙 He absolutely loves it when you play with his hard, especially when you scratch lightly at his scalp when he's on the verge of sleeping. As much as he cares for his gorgeous auburn mane, he crumbles at the feeling of your hands carding into his thick locks and gently petting through.

🌙 Elliott is a rather large man. He's very tall and pretty built up. He's very aware of his size and he likes to use it to his advantage, but sometimes, he doesn't realize that some things he does may not make sense to someone who is shorter than him, especially by a good bit. You often have to remind him that you can't often reach stuff on the top shelf of the cabinets and you really don't store much on the top space of the pantry for a reason.

🌙 He loves to have fresh flowers on the dining room table. It was something his mother always did, she said it always kept good energy in the house and allowed all of the creative juices to flow freely. He tried to keep the tradition alive in the cabin, but he couldn't keep a rose alive for long. Ever since he moved in with you, he's picked up on a lot of tips to keep foliage alive, allowing him to keep fresh flowers on the table for longer.

🌙 He loves to serenade you with his piano. He has a wonderful voice as well, just as melodic as his lovely piano. Whenever you're not feeling great, he loves to try and make you feel better with his charming voice and dashing good looks.

🌙 Elliott has a natural way with words. He has the supernatural ability to charm you with just a few choice words. Sometimes, he doesn't even need to say a word, just one smoldering look is enough to charm his way into your heart.

🌙 When he does use his words, he loves to say it close to you. He loves to look down at you, chest to chest, hands ghosting over your face, brushing your hair out of the way. He often whispers it to you, sometimes in your ear, sometimes against your lips as he kisses you. His words are always filled with a fiery passion.

🌙 Whenever he goes out for a stroll through town, he always brings back something for you, especially from the beach. Some wildflowers freshly picked, beautiful rainbow shells that had just washed up from the shore. He likes the little twinkle in your eyes that sparkles when you admire his small gifts in your hands.

🌙 He always dedicates his novels to you. He did it with the first one and he will continue to do it until he takes his last breath. He always makes up a new design for it for every book he publishes. It makes it a lot more personal and more heartfelt. He keeps the original designs in a little photo album on his desk to continue to add to as time stretches on.

🌙 Whenever he's out on a book tour, he can't sleep. He's grown too accustomed and too comfortable with the cozy farmhouse and your warmth beside him in the bed every night that being away from you for upwards of weeks takes its toll upon the poet. Coming back to you is always his favorite part. One time he came back while you were picking blueberries when you saw him. You had dropped your basket, not caring about the fallen fruit and booked it to him. That was the best hug he's ever gotten in his entire life.

🌙 He loves having domestic moments with you. One of his favorites is snuggling up to each other on the sofa, a blanket drawn over both of your legs while you're both intently reading your own books with the fireplace lightly crackling in the background. Something about that just tickles his brain in the right ways.

🌙 Days spent on Ginger Island are some of his favorites, especially during winter. It's often what kills off some writer's muses and wills to create (I feel that), but coming to that island always seems to breathe new life into his scriptures. He knows winter can also be brutal on your life as a farmer, so he's happy you both have a getaway from it all.

🌙 He finds it very attractive when you come in from toiling away in the fields for a small break all sweaty and out of breath. It makes him very hot under the collar.

🌙 He loves to help out on the farm. At first, it felt like he wouldn't be much help, but he's come to really pull weight around the place. He may seem like some pampered prince, but under those elegant clothes and neatly groomed hair is a pretty brawny man eager to help you with bountiful harvests.

🌙 He really does not like the idea of you going into those mines. He becomes a complete mother hen with you, especially if you're getting home late all dirty and a bit bloodied, dragging a sack full of loots behind you. He doesn't mean to seem overbearing, he's just incredibly worried that something may happen to you in there and he won't be able to help you.

🌙 He loves attending festivals with you, hands down. His favorite would definitely be Spirit's Eve. Besides the blackberry cobbler that has him drooling, he's really taken to the idea of sneaking around with you in the dark and being passionate with you. He really loves making out in the hidden cave behind the maze you found a few festivals prior.

🌙 There was one rainy day in the summer that kept you both trapped inside. He had written himself into a rut and the season was ending leaving you with no crops to tend to, you both just ended up redecorating the entire farmhouse all day. By the end of it, you both were crashed on the couch with your limbs all tangled up, peacefully sleeping together. It's one of his treasured moments.

🌙 You two often find yourselves slowly dancing in the kitchen more often than you'd thought. It often happens when you're waiting on dinner to finish cooking. Elliott loves keeping you close to him, your body heat soothing his nerves and your natural scent making his head swim wonderfully. He loves nothing more than holding your hands, passionately embracing as you both slowly move to the music.

[swarvey]

when you've moved on | elliott x gn!reader | part two

summary -> he slowly lost interest in you after you got married. now he watches you fall back in love with someone else. warnings -> very slight mention of nsfw, implied age gap, mainly just angst! wc -> 1106

a/n: i swear i keep trying to write for the bachelorettes but then get inspired with an idea for the bachelors :') anyways have this, decided to do elliott since he's "so much older and wiser" iykyk.

this was inspired by the dialogue you get when your hearts with your sdv spouse gets low, except i flipped the tables :) lmk if you guys want to see this as a series!!

part one -> the way i loved you (sebastian)

tolerate it -> "what would you do if i break free and leave us in ruins?"

elliott's pen hovers over the page in front of him, unmoving for the past ten minutes now. his grip tightens, knuckles white in frustration as he finally releases it, falling back in his chair with his eyes closed as it clatters onto his table.

his writer's block has never been worse, and it's because all he can think of is you.

more so, his loss of you.

no matter how many times he replays the scenario in his head, he can't make sense of how he lost you. he still remembers his wedding day, how he couldn't help but tear up at the sight of you approaching him down the aisle.

"you said you wouldn't cry," you'd teased him.

"i said i would try, my dear," he responded, touching your cheek gently, "but how can i not? your beauty is otherworldly today."

he remembers his vows, his promise to always be by your side. he remembers kissing you like his life depended on it. he remembers going home with you that night, in disbelief that he could finally call you his as he pulled his hair into a bun, mermaid's pendant hitting his bare chest as he dragged you to the bedroom.

"i love you, y/n," he'd said after, both of you panting in exhaustion and satisfaction beside each other. "more than anything else in this universe. i wouldn't trade you for a hundred iridium bars."

you'd laughed, turning your head to look at him with shining eyes and pink cheeks. "really? how about a thousand?"

"nor a thousand."

"ten thousand?"

"not even ten thousand bars, no."

". . . how about a hundred thousand?"

"no, not even a hundred thousand bars!" he'd turned to you then, wide-eyed and holding back a grin at the sight of your scheming gaze. "my love, let's be reasonable—"

"what about a million bars?"

"wha . . . a million bars of pure iridium . . . ? dear, don't make me do this . . ."

"a-ha!" you'd said, sitting up in bed suddenly. "so you would!"

"i never said such a thing!"

at the sight of his pout, you had sprawled yourself on top of him, planting a kiss on his nose as he looked down at you with a smile.

"i love you, too, el."

elliott sighs, his head falling forward into his hand. one part of him wishes to hear you utter those words again; the other prays he'll one day forget you ever said them.

the first few seasons after the wedding had been dreamlike — elliott had never felt so full of life before. it was like being with you had opened his eyes to how colorful and bright the world could be. sometimes he would wake up before you and admire your sleeping figure, a soft smile appearing on his lips every time he caught a glimpse of your necklace.

he doesn't remember when the spark began to fade, though.

no, he only recalls the days he began to leave the farm early in the morning to spend time alone in his old cabin on the beach, coming back only for dinner. the two of you would eat quietly, sitting at opposite ends of the table. he would ask and answer questions shortly, mainly focusing on the dull, uninspiring feeling he seemed to get every time he was in your shared house.

he never noticed the sad look filling your eyes, begging him to pay attention to you, to show you the love he once had for you. he paid no mind to how your face lit up every time he came home, only to deflate as he walked past you. he never even thought about how your conversations with him had turned one-sided, as he would spill his troubles to you without even giving you a chance to share yours.

not until it was too late, that is.

". . . do you still love me?"

it was a question he never thought he would hear from you, and yet he'd unknowingly driven you to that point. elliott had never heard silence so loud until then, realizing that, for some reason, he couldn't answer your question.

"answer me, elliott," you'd said, voice wavering as he uneasily met your eyes. "i need to know this. i feel like you've been treating me like a kid lately — when i talk to you, i can barely get a word out without you lecturing me. you're barely home to even do that anymore."

he scoffed. "please, y/n, be reasonable," he had replied, the same words he had said that night after professing his love to you. "i've simply been a bit caught up lately, that's all. i need my own time to write."

"seriously? that's what you're going to say?" you shook your head, crossing your arms as you looked at him pleadingly. "why are you acting like this? do you seriously think being a bit older than me justifies how you've been treating me?"

"that has nothing to do with our situation," he snapped sharply, then sighed. "please, can we go to bed? i'm tired of this." he started towards the bedroom door, leaving you behind him.

"you never answered my question."

he stopped.

"it's okay, el," you'd whispered. "i had a feeling i already knew. i was just hoping you would at least be able to tell me."

so now, here he is. unable to finish the sequel to his novel because he'd dedicated the first one to you, and what's the point of writing a second one if you're no longer by his side?

what's the point if you have sebastian now, who spends every second with you? who is much younger than him and rides a motorcycle? who gives you a mermaid's pendant — a year after the two of you separated, by the way — and makes sure the entire town can make it to your wedding?

he doesn't know what you see in him. sure, his passion for music is a bit admirable, but can he really treat you properly? there's no way seb can make you smile, make you laugh, make you cry out of pure joy or pleasure like he did.

elliott had attended the wedding, of course, so he could make sure you were happy.

he most certainly wasn't hoping to see a twinge of hesitation, maybe even regret in your eyes as you walked down the aisle again.

as elliott abandons his writing and heads out the doorway of his cabin, the image of you happier than he'd ever seen you while passionately kissing sebastian is burned into his mind.

you are no longer his, and it's entirely his fault.

[sunnomnoms]

Hey! Could I request Elliot from stardew valley with a chubby enby reader? I don’t have a specific idea in mind, but maybe him trying romance them and they think he’s just being a sweet friend because no one’s ever shown a particular interest in them? And eventually hen like grabs their face and (oh so gently and elegantly) forces them to realize he’s not “just being nice”

Sorry if that isn’t well worded, I am high as shit rn but thank you for considering this ♥️ you’re amazing

LMAO you’re alright! I wrote these as headcanons because of course I did I’m silly.

Warnings: mentions of insecurity, small talks on body, etc. elliott isn’t sure if your gender lmao. also it’s really long?

-

Upon arriving in Pelican Town, you were quite literally the talk of the town. They hadn’t seen a new person in years move in, so the others were keen on giving their greetings to you along with small house warming gifts. Elliott was no different in this regard- the only difference was his hesitation to approach you on his own.

When you met him, you had bumped into him after leaving the pier. It was early, you had the scent of bait on you… you certainly weren’t your most graceful self. But Elliott didn’t bat an eye, instead introducing himself and said how he wished the two of you met sooner- you had been in town for about a week or so now. He took your hand gently, placing an apple in the palm of it and told you how he hopes the two of you cross paths again- and how he hopes you enjoy the life you’ve started here in the valley. Elegant, sweet, and gentle his words were.

But it was very much a played up act. He had no idea how to act, he was so unbelievably charmed by you from the second he laid his eyes on you. it wasn’t even that you did much to catch his eye, it was how the light hit your eyes and the way you carried yourself that seemed to catch him so off guard. That apple was his breakfast, he had absolutely no intention of giving it away that morning. Long after you had headed home from the pier, he had sat on the dock completely frazzled as he tried to figure out what fuse within him just blew… without breakfast.

Elliott’s sexuality was always up in the air to him, but seeing you confirmed to himself he wasn’t really sure he cared what gender his partner was. This was partially because he wasn’t fully sure how you identified upon looking at you.

With such a flustered first impression, it was no surprise to anyone when he fell head over heals for you.

Your selfless nature fed his infatuation with him. Gifts of pomegranate wine and home made crab cakes made his hopeless romantic heart swell at the thought of you. He hardly even remembered the time he told you how he loved pomegranates, but the fact that you remembered… it made him so love sick it hurt. He treasured every little thing he received from you, writing sappy entries to his journal every time he received anything from you.

Without trying, you played his heart strings like a harp into the most beautiful of melodies.

Elliott couldn’t sit idly as you did so much to make him feel so strongly about you. Under the guise that you were certainly trying to romance him, he began his own advances.

Unfortunately… you were uh……

… dense.

He’d never say so out loud, no. But your innocent lack of acknowledgement of his clearly romantic advances frustrated him, yet still somehow made him even more infatuated with you.

Being in such a small town, being such the recluse he is, he has no intentions of letting his feelings for you go to waste. Hardly ever did he want others close to him or within his space. Until you. You were so much different to him, such a precious soul. He had full intention to sweep you off your feet.

But… how is it you were able to read his entire romance novel he explicitly said you inspired him to write and see it as platonic…?

And when the flower dance came, how is it you read that as a simple dance between two friends? even with how close you two were? Elliott to this day is still dazed by it, how did you not read the intense feelings behind it all?

Or when the dance of the moonlight jellies came, how is it that you never mentioned the hand Elliott gently placed on your waist? do you have any idea how much he had to hype himself up for that?!

As much as he adored you, you drove him insane.

A short period of time passes where Elliott is hurt, genuinely hurt. He didn’t understand how you did all the little things that made him fuzzy inside without meaning it romantically. Were you just being friendly? Did Elliott misread this entire dynamic between the two of you? Even if so, that doesn’t solve the feelings that Elliott’s developed… and something had to be done.

A late night laying in bed, staring at his ceiling as he was thinking brought him to the conclusion that you must not realize what you’re doing to him, and not realize what he feels for you… despite how glaringly obvious it was.

He eventually came to terms with the fact he would have to be entirely honest and up front. No fancy tricks, no gentle gestures to suggest he likes you, just a genuine confession.

and so he had asked you to meet him at the pier you two first met at one night.

Before you arrived, he paced thinking about what he’d say. He knew he had to be forward with you, but he didn’t want to word it in a way that makes you feel like you owe him anything. You didn’t. this wasn’t a confession to make anything official between the two of you, this was to clear Elliott’s conscious. Besides… Elliott is under the impression you likely don’t feel the same.

When you arrive, Elliot greets you kindly as he asks how your day was and all that sort as you sat at the edge of the pier, looking out at the gem sea. Just hearing you speak eased his nerves, even if it’s you talking about how you had to wrestle your cattle back into their barn one night.

When Elliott changed the topic, his face visibly dropped a little. He’d gotten to a point of feeling guilty for how he felt for you if you most certainly hadn’t felt the same.

“Farmer, I… I wanted to tell you that I have feelings for you.” He spoke lowly and avoided your eyes as he said it, his hand fiddling with his sleeve nervously.

Watching you perk up and speak filled him with hope just for a second.

“oh, I’ve got all sorts of feelings for you too man- you’re one of my best friends and I really treasure our friendship! I never really had friends in the city-”

No way. no actual fucking way that just flew over your head.

He placed a hand on your shoulder with a ‘pat’, stopping your ramble immediately. He deadpanned at you- not as if he was upset or anything, he was… amazed. bewildered, really.

“[Y/N], I am romantically attracted to you.”

He watched your face as you processed his words, your face flushing red as you reach the conclusion Elliott has desperately been trying to lead you to.

Seeing as you clearly understood now, Elliott’s face softened as he went to speak.

“I-I have those… those feelings for you too.” You cut him off before he could even begin.

You continued on, explaining that you didn’t exactly expect him to like him like that because you never exactly got much attention from those in the city. You explained you were sure he had to just be being friendly, as you said ‘there’s always someone more attractive, more elegant, skinnier, you know.’

But Elliott didn’t know. Was the city really so cruel to one’s image of themself? He hardly visited often, and sure he felt a bit out of place while he was there. Seeing as you were someone who lived there, surely living with that feeling of being out of place was unbearable. Never for a second did he doubt you were someone who was beautiful, did those in the city disagree? … how?

Elliott was quiet for a moment as he processed everything. Sure, you felt the same, but he can be happy about that in a second.

“I never once thought of you as anything else besides beautiful.” He finally mutters. He watches you fluster at the comment, but before you could cover your face with your hands he takes them gently.

“I-, I really mean it. I had no idea you had such a cruel view of yourself, I can’t imagine thinking so negatively of you. I’m sorry if it’s overwhelming to hear, but you’re… uh-” He mentally fumbles for a second, looking back up at you from your hands. “I realize I never asked- then again it never came up- uh, do you have a preference as to what you’re called? pretty? handsome?” He smiles sheepishly.

Hearing you laugh at his fumbling is worth it, though.

The night ends with the two of you chatting about Elliott’s prior clear signs of romantic feelings and your own density to them. it’s light hearted, of course, Elliott holds no real disdain for you.

The world feels a little lighter on Elliott’s shoulder now, and he feels a little warmer inside. Especially as you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his.

[peachy-skies-writings]

Bachelors taking care of their exhausted bae after birth hcs 😮‍💨

Hi, thanks for the request! Hope you like it?

Bachelors Taking Care of Exhausted f!Reader after Giving Birth

💚🏈 Alex 🏈💚

He’d call Evelyn for help like “Granny, what should I do? How do I help?”

Will follow his grandmother’s advice and bring you herbal teas to help with sleep and fatigue. All sorts of old-timey at home remedies. Would also bring you flowers (he’s not sure how they help but Evelyn said it was a good idea)

If you needed a break, he’d drop the baby off at his grandparents for the day so that you could both get some much needed rest.

🧡📖 Elliott 📖🧡

He was there during the birth, putting a cold cloth on your forehead (he’d seen in Bridgerton so assumed that’s what the classic way to do it was - you decided not to ask, mainly because you were a bit busy).

After you’d given birth, he’d just sit there next to you while you slept, one hand holding yours and another letting your baby grasp onto his finger as they slept.

He would make sure you slept and were comfortable, trying to do his best to get up and look after the baby during the night.

🤍🩺 Harvey 🩺🤍

Just after you’ve given birth, Harvey would let you rest - knowing the amount of physical exertion that labour has on a body.

Would set you up with a regime of vitamins and supplements to help support you post-partum. “This one is for fatigue, this one is for iron, this one is for-”

Honestly he would help you so much. I can imagine him being super proud of you for giving birth and being such a good dad. He’d be pretty hands on from the get-go and would take it in turns with you to do the night waking up so that you could get the sleep that you needed.

💙🎸Sam 🎸💙

SO excited to have a baby but when he realises how tired you are straight after giving birth, he decides to hold in the excitement until you’re slightly more awake.

Sam is full of energy so it’s kinda infectious. He’d definitely liven you up with some jokes and make you belly laugh.

Would realise that you needed a lot of rest and since he has the energy anyway, would be more than happy to do night feeding into the foreseeable future. Actually a big fan of it because he likes to make your baby giggle and then go “sshhh you’ll wake your mother and I’ll get told off” but that’s all part of the game.

💜🎮Sebastian 🎮💜

Sebastian is a pretty low energy guy so he knows what it’s like to feel fatigued. He’d bring you coffee (he did check first that you can have this after birth dw) and a snack, then let you drift off while he held your baby.

He’d revert back to his nocturnal schedule so that you could rest during the night and he’d be up with the baby. Super considerate. Would definitely have a lil rocking chair in there with a baby mobile that had bats on.

Sebastian would make sure you were feeling okay and not too exhausted before his family came to meet the baby. He hates talking to people when he’s tired and he think you’re the most tired anyone has ever been.

🖤🐓Shane 🐓🖤

Would make sure you’re okay first then let you sleep straight after birth. He’d be pretty tired too as he’d have stayed up the whole time with you. Would definitely have a nap on the hospital chair.

Shane would make sure that he was as quiet as possible while you were having your naps or sleeping. He’d make sure he got up most of the time in the night, especially the first few weeks after you’d given birth.

He would enlist the help of Marnie if you were super tired, especially the first few days, so that you could rest as much as possible.

[pxstelmxsings]

To them, there is nothing sexier than seeing you in their clothing. Hoodies, T-shirts, old sweatpants, no matter what article of clothing, it doesn't matter. They leave their clothing out purposely just for you to find.

Is it cold outside? Oh, look, their cozy hoodie is on the sofa. Did you not like the new laundry soap? Well, their favorite band t-shirt hasn't been washed yet. Do all of your pants feel itchy? They have plenty of sweatpants for you to wear.

And like a hawk, they study detail of you in their clothing.

You are not foolish. You feel their eyes on you. Sometimes, you slowly tug off a t-shirt just to make them squirm. Other times you ingore wearing their old clothing in favor of your new cloths just to see them pout.

Truly, you can be so cruel to their hungry eyes.

♡ Haley, Sebastian, Elliott, March, Balor, Valen, Juniper, Grace, Logan, Justice, Keith, Shiro, Allura, Tao, Ryu,

[viridescentelf]

Painted for me

Stardew Valley Elliott x GN Farmer

Art by O3tofu on Twitter/X

WARNING: 18+, obsessive and toxic behavior, masturbation, general nsfw

Couple Notes: This is my very first attempt at anything Yandere related. I'm tatted and always wondered how Elliott would react to one on the farmer. Enjoy my indulgence! [:

If you're curious what music I was listening to for inspo, it was mostly Florence and the Machine mixed with Bon Iver and Beyonce lol

Word Count: 2k

--

The unusual warm breeze on an autumn morning seemed to have whispered across the valley: today was a Beach Day!

Elliott awoke with paper stuck to his face, adhering to the tiny drivel of spit around his mouth. The crumbled-up pages decorated his dusty floor, evidence of another night spent frustratingly giving up mid-sentence. The intense writer’s block wasn’t ceasing.

He could hear people laughing outside his cabin. 

Letting out a huge yawn, the poet stretched his aching body and wandered groggily to the nearest window. 

It can‘t be the Luau again, he deduced, having only sleepily stumbled into that party a few weeks ago.

Peering through the glass, he saw no wild decorations, but most of the villagers in beach clothing taking in the beautiful rays. Elliott scanned the sand for his friends, spotting Leah in a sunhat sketching by the water and found Willy gazing excitedly into the water near the pier.

The writer’s heart skipped a secret beat, when he recognized the back of the farmer’s head, unpacking their gear near his neighbor. They were tying their hair up, the little baby hairs on the back of their nape made the him quiver.

Frantically grabbing his pants and jumping into one leg, Elliott brushed his teeth with fervor. The farmer was always a bit unpredictable with their schedule, so he didn’t want to waste any time. Another chance to talk to them! He could feel the heat of the day seep through the wooden planks of his shack, so he decided against his red overcoat.

Opening his door, he was met with a sweltering wall and was blinded briefly by the blaring sun in his eyes. Blinking to get accustomed to the brightness, he could barely make out the silhouettes of Willy and the farmer, who were moving strangely – what were they doing? The fuzzy movements were unusual for fishing.

Elliott squeezed his lids hard to adjust them quicker to the glare. Once he opened them, his face turned purple.

The farmer was taking off their overalls. So was Willy, but that wasn’t as exciting to him. A flush of hot static overtook Elliott’s entire body and it wasn’t due to the pressing sun above him. He had never seen the farmer with anything other than their work clothes and now…

Th- that’s their underwear!

The writer could see their bare legs emerging from the pants, their skin dotted with little droplets of sweat. And what was that?

Adorning one of the legs of the farmer was an intricate tattoo. The way it curved around their thigh made Elliott moan squeakily. It wasn’t enough that he was seeing parts of them he had been fantasizing about for the past few months. Now, he would give anything to kiss all over that gorgeous painting and work his way up.

The farmer straightened themselves and tucked their T-Shirt up, exposing their stomach.

Oh, sweet Hell, what are you doing to me?

Willy and the farmer were now removing their boots and stepping into the water together, carrying a large net. They chatted loudly, giving instructions on how to hold the net or what to look out for. He could hear a light raspiness in the farmer’s voice, clearly tired from previous work. Their hands were gripping the rope tightly.

“Hey Elliott!”

The way the water caressed their thighs, leaving shadowy marks of it having touched them. How he wished he could leave hand prints all over them.

“Elliott?”

That gorgeous tattoo was teasing him. What other beautiful things could he discover on them, if they let him explore?

“Elliott!!!”

Elliott finally whirled around and was met with Leah staring at him. He had been rooted in front of his door, staring like a mad dog the entire time.

“O-oh, good morning, Leah! Sorry…”, he rubbed the back of his head. His face was crimson, but could be mistaken as the fastest sunburn in history.

“Bad night?”, the artist tilted her head slightly, looking him up and down.

Elliott had to concentrate and not let his eyes continuously slip back to the almost naked body of the farmer. His head felt dizzy. In the corner of his eye, he saw them flip their hair away from their shoulder.

“Just up late”, he mumbled quickly in response, “Seems everyone’s enjoying this lovely day in the ocean breeze!” He tried to pretend he was looking out at the rest of the villagers speckled across the sand, but his eyes were really flittering over to the lower half of the farmer’s soaking wet form.

Leah caught his gaze and grinned to herself: “Yup, everyone’s here…” He pretended not to hear the suggestive intonation in her voice. “Well, if you’re looking for me, I’m over there,” she pointed at her sketchbook lying on a shallow rock near the water, “after you’ve greeted everyone.” She winked and returned to her spot.

Elliott waved at Leah while she walked away and started to come up with a plan.

How can I get closer without being too weird?

The writer scanned the beach. Sam and Sebastian were standing in the shade, deep in conversation. Not a great excuse. They seemed to be bantering about something important. Pam was roasting herself on her towel, occasionally lifting her head to sip from her beer can or burp. She didn’t look like she wanted to talk to anyone, not that he particularly wanted to, either. Emily, Haley, Maru and Penny were sitting together at the far side of the beach, while Jodi read a book serenely behind them. Vincent and Jas were throwing sand at each other.

Too far away. Too much sand in my face.

None of these were the best options for an easy transition to talk to his crush.

What about…

He suddenly showed a particular interest in Alex, who was playing catch with himself. Coincidentally, he was standing close to where Willy and the farmer were working.

Alex! He’s fun to talk to!

Elliott hadn't really talked to him, ever. They just waved at each other, occasionally, when their paths crossed on the beach.

Convinced of his amazing plan, the red-head walked with gusto towards the unassuming gym rat who was too preoccupied with his workout. Before he knew it, Elliott stood near him awkwardly. Alex caught the ball and blinked at him.

“Uh…”, he looked confused, “hi?”

“Hello Alex! Lovely day for stretching and overexerting our muscles, right? You seem to be doing well! Hahaha.” He had no idea what Alex liked to talk about. Probably exercise. The nervous laugh came out involuntarily.

“Oh- uh hi Elliott. Yeah, yeah. I’m getting a good sweat going.” He turned slightly and wanted to continue tossing the ball, but Elliott hadn’t left. He looked him up and down. He clearly wasn’t dressed for a workout.

“Are you alright?” Alex asked.

“Oh yes, of course. Just making conversation!” the writer babbled. His face was still scorching red.

Elliott put his hands on his hips and pretended to stretch, clearly having no clue what to say further. He stole a few glimpses towards the water, where the farmer had stood up straight, still holding the net. Their leg muscles were tense. Their behind peaked out from the short, soaking wet underwear.

Alex watched the writer for a moment, then turned away from him. He resumed tossing the ball and catching it, ignoring the weird stretching sounds Elliott was faking.

Ok I can probably go say hi now, right?

As he gulped, he stopped his pseudo-stretching and slowly made his way towards his goal.

I’ll say hi to Willy first. That’s less obvious.

Inching closer, it took everything in his soul not to continuously stare at the farmer’s ass, while they were bending over and tugging the net.

“G-Good morning, Willy!”, Elliott blurted out when he felt like he was close enough.

Both turned to him. Willy’s wide smile met him as he gave a joking salute. The farmer turned their head at the sound of his voice as well, their face drenched in sweat with a small streak of blush coating their nose and cheeks. Their striking eyes were glittering in the sunlight. Once they smiled, too, Elliott could’ve fainted into the ocean.

“Hi Elliott!”, they said kindly. There were a few pants after they spoke, clearly holding the net against the waves was exhausting.

Oh my God.

“What are you two doing?” He could barely control the shakes in his voice. He was so close to them. The tattoo was so much clearer now. Their whole lower half was so much clearer now.

“We’re catching shrimp! There’s an explosion of ‘em this morning! Farmer Name offered to help me out.”

The farmer nodded in response: “Happy to help!”

In that moment, a giant wave crashed into them. Elliott stepped back a bit to avoid the splash, still wearing his loafers. Willy and the farmer stood their ground, but the might of the current had pulled the farmer’s underwear to the side slightly. It wasn’t exposing too much, but the writer clearly got a brief glimpse at their privates before they readjusted themselves.

“Whoops, sorry!” they laughed, while Willy repositioned his hat.

Elliott’s body froze. His face had now turned a thick shade of maroon and he could feel himself growing against his belt.

“I have to go!”, he spat out and sprinted away with such velocity back towards his shack. Willy and the farmer looked at each other, shrugged and then continued collecting what they had caught in their nets into the whicker baskets beside them. By the state of his face, they could’ve easily deduced he had gotten sun stroke.

The writer slammed his door shut and leaned against it, panting heavily and muffling out the cheerful chatter of the beach.

Elliott stood there, heaving, the bulge in his pants growing larger as he thought about what divine beauty he just glimpsed at. All the things he wanted to do in that moment flooded his senses.

He wanted to tackle them into the water and rip their flimsy underwear off, inserting a finger into them as he kissed them impatiently.  He wanted to caress their salty skin and lick the beautiful artwork etched forever on their upper thigh. Painted for him, to adore and use.

He wanted to tear his pants open and take them right there in the shallow water, in front of everyone, while they moaned and begged for him to go harder. He wanted to feel their narrow walls and hold their face up towards his, as he came.

The sound of his belt buckle hitting the wooden floor echoed through the shack. He couldn’t hold it any longer. Still leaning against his door, Elliott touched himself fiercely, imagining all the things he wanted- no, needed to do to them. All of those filthy thoughts circled frantically within his mind, imagining their face in pure ecstasy: he would be the cause of that. Holding their legs up and seeing the art up close, it was too much.

Painted for me.

That phrase etched itself deep within him. He felt electricity crackle its way from his shaft all the way through his lower body, as he threw his head back and moaned harshly, sinking into the orgasmic sensation.

Elliott felt his knees waver, as he slid down the door and sat on the surprisingly cold floor. His right hand was sticky, so he placed his left palm against his forehead in shame.

He could barely last a whole conversation with the farmer, fully clothed. But this, this had been a true test of Yoba, if he could control himself. Alas, he clearly couldn’t.

One day.

Staring across the room, he caught sight of his quill. Could he craft something worthwhile out of this shameful experience? Having just seen his muse in an unprecedented way, poetry engulfed his being.

Picking himself up, the writer put his pants back on, leaving the belt to hang open on his hips. He slid his feet towards his desk and hunched over it, taking the quill in his hand.

On a piece of scrap paper, he wrote:

Painted for me

A work of art no thief could rip from my grasp

I will keep it safe, here by the sea

My fingers ache to trace its creases

He stared at the words. Proudly. A delicious thought slithered up his spine.

What if he sent the farmer a letter?

[mongoosingisme]

This is your NSFW Elliott (drabble? head canon? someone please tell me what I should be calling these things) warning.

Elliott always smelled amazing.

This wasn't surprising. He took his grooming very seriously after all.

At first you weren't sure how you felt about the length of his routine, but after time you started to love the way you'd find long auburn hairs on the sink. You'd crave the scent of pomegranates, oak moss, citrus.

His clothes, too - always so fresh and clean. He'd wash yours as well, though he never managed to get the barn scent out of them. You didn't mind that he washed yours separately. It made it easier for you to catch the scent of fresh cotton when you pressed your nose into the curve of his neck.

He always melted a bit when you did that.

You, on the other hand, did not always smell amazing. You smelled like sweat and dirt and animals and work and fatigue and the cheap shampoo you picked up at Pierre's.

Elliott couldn't get enough.

It didn't matter if you were fresh out of the shower or fresh out of mucking the stalls. He'd wrap his arms around you, press his mouth against your neck, and breathe in deep. "Captivating," he'd say. "Your aroma is entirely captivating. I'm enraptured."

"That's very dramatic," you'd say, laughing, but he'd insist it was the truth.

And later, in bed, he'd run the tip of his nose down your body. Slowly. He always moved so slowly, that Elliott. Always breathing in deep. Lingering. Moving down the center of your chest. Running his nose around your navel. Teasing down one thigh and up the other. He wouldn't stop until you squirmed, hands fisted in the sheets to keep from grabbing at his hair, and begged him to touch you.

He'd look up at you, then, from between your legs, lids low over dark eyes. And before his mouth would set upon you, before he'd work you up all slow and sweet and achingly perfect, he'd take a deep breath in through his nose. "My love," he'd say, lazy and low, "you are the most exquisite thing I've ever experienced."

And yes it was dramatic. Yes it was wrought. But the thing about Elliott is that when his mouth was on you, he made you believe everything he said. That everything about you was perfect and good and worthy of being experienced. That you were an experience, one that he could help but come back to time and time again.

Masterlist

[gay-duckers]

The writing desk

Smut because down bad

Elliott being a little sub with writers block

Elliott sighed as he sat at his writing desk, the dread he felt as writers block washed over him. He put his head down on the desk in defeat, he had been stuck on this chapter for days when he decided to sit down and power through it. Elliott has since come to the realization that it would be harder than expected. Elliott sat there for what felt like hours before Y/n walked in the door. "Hello my darling, how has your day been?" They asked while taking off their shoes and hanging up their coat, still dripping from the storm raging on outside. "Terrible, I've been stuck on this chapter for so long that I feel like I'm back in middle school." he said with a sigh as he placed his head back down on his desk ever so softly, the soft thud caught Y/n's attention, they giggled and walked over to his desk, Elliott sighed in contently as Y/n ran their hands through his long locks.

"Well" they started "I think I know what can make you feel better." This little statement had Elliott's undivided attention. Y/n moved closer until their knees touched Elliott's thigh as he sat in the chair of his writing desk. Slowly they straddled over him and sat themselves in his lap. "oh" he breathed out, feeling his heart race against his chest so hard he thought he could see it through his shirts. Suddenly Elliott felt a soft pair of lips on his neck, the feeling was overwhelming yet intoxication, the feeling of their beautiful soft lips sucking and nipping and kissing filled Elliott with an almost animalistic feeling.

Y/n could smell the faint sent of pomegranate from his shampoo mixed with a salty smell from Elliott sitting on the beach for inspiration. Slowly the sounds of Elliott's soft moans filled the room and Y/n could feel him growing beneath them. As Y/n slowly pulled away a soft whine came from Elliott, his face flushed and blissful. Y/n kissed him slowly and passionately as they unbuttoned his shirt, the slow steady pace driving Elliott mad, he whined against the kiss in frustration. "whats wrong my darling?" Y/n asked almost mockingly while pulling away from the kiss, Elliott's lips chasing theirs, "My love you know whats wrong" he insisted desperately. "I do" they spoke softly "But I want you to tell me" they lovingly whispered into his ear kissing down his jawline and neck. "Well.. I... need this..." he uttered between gasps, "Please?" Y/n corrected, "Please." He added, his voice raspy with a urgent sense of lust.

Y/n slowly slid his shirts off him and onto the back of the chair, they slowly slid back while kissing down his chest paying special attention to his sensitive nipples. Elliott threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut as he let the pleasure rush through his limbs, Elliott tried in vein to stay quiet as his subtle moans became louder and louder with each passing second. Y/n soon found themselves on their knees in front of the flustered writer, they painfully tugged his belt loose, the tent in Elliott's pants strained painfully against the fabric.

Elliott lifted his hips as Y/n pulled his pants to mid thigh, Y/n stood in front of Elliott and made a show of taking off their clothes. Elliott's breath caught in his throat, he wanted to touch himself as they slid their clothes off and discarded them to find later, but he knew better, he learned early on who was in charge in the relationship, and he knew better than to try and take charge without permission. Y/n settled into Elliott's lap,and prepped Elliott with some lube then carefully guided him in. Elliott's breath hitched as he felt himself glide into them, the feeling was euphoric, he buried his face into their neck and let out a long, painful whine. Y/n set a steady pace ridding him, they could tell by his whines and whimpers that he was already close, they knew he wouldn't last long.

Elliott was so close that he already felt the familiar knot tightening in his abdomen, Y/n felt him tense and they stilled, they had denied him an orgasm, "Please.... I cant..... just please keep going" he begged. "well since you asked so nicely," they said starting back up with a fast pace, Elliott once again felt the knot tightening. Elliott couldn't help the words that poured out of his mouth "I can't.. it's.. I'm gonna" Y/n cut him off with a finger to his lips "I know my dear, just let go" with that Elliott came, hard, he saw stars dancing and singing praises of the person in his lap. As Elliott came down from his high he expected Y/n to slow, but they kept their pace, the first orgasm leaving him sensitive and vulnerable, "F-fuck Y/n" he gasped out. "Don't worry darling, I just need you a little longer" they slurred out, their own high moments away, Elliott felt them tighten around him as they came, the overwhelming pleasure cause Elliott's second orgasm of the night.

Y/n stilled after ridding out both their highs, attempting to catch their breath, Elliott still seeing stars. There they stayed for a while, basking in the after glow, embracing one another. Y/n was the first to move, they slowly moved off Elliott's lap and walked to the bathroom, Elliott soon heard the sound of a bath being run. Y/n then walked in with a glass of water, which they gave to Elliott. Elliott downed the much needed water and Y/n guided him to the bathroom. The bath smelled of fruits and was filled with bubbles, Y/n carefully helped Elliott down into the warm water, soon joining him. "Well, i may have to write you a thank you letter." Elliott finally said his first coherent sentence in over an hour, "whys that love" they asked softly, gliding their hand through the bubbles. "I think you've cleared my writers block. and you've definitely made my night much better." he murmured softly in their ear, gently kissing their neck.

A/N this is my first actual fanfic lmao. hopefully it isn't terrible. Please tell me if I made any mistakes or should add any warnings.