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writer-by-the-sea · 1 year

Note

hello!! may i request something fluffy where a touch starved elliott is visited by a farmer who can’t sleep and wants to cuddle with him? they’re not yet dating, but there’s EXTREME romantic tension between them

Slightly BARELY NSFT, No beta, no spell check lol

The storm raged outside, the lighting illuminating my cabin, each flash of light shortly accompanied by thunder that roared so loudly it shook my bed. I sighed and stared up at the ceiling, the rain beating down on the roof and providing me with the white noise I would normally crave; but now I laid there disturbed by the storm and sleep continues to evade me.

I let my thoughts slip to the farmer… Weeks ago they told me how they can’t have trouble sleeping through the night, that they were considering pills to help them through the night. I couldn’t help by wonder how they were fairing this night. Were they just as frustrated as I? Tossing and turning under the covers and considering giving up and waiting for the morning?

All I knew was that tomorrow would be a day with many cups of coffee, perhaps even an espresso or two.

I leaned over, reaching for my bedside lamp, flicking the switch with well rehearsed practice— only for the light to ignore me. I blinked at the light, tapping the switching again, and then once more..

“Lovely,” I mumbled and stood. The power was out.

Near my desk sat an oil lamp, one that I preferred to save for emergencies; I suppose this fell into that category. I considered what I would do with my time now, writing coming across my mind. Although, as of late, anything I’ve written has only been conveying my sappy and desperate need for the touch of another.

For far too long I’ve lived in this cabin alone. Something I thought I would enjoy, but I find myself feeling more and more lonely as each day passes. These days it’s gotten to the point where I find myself starved for attention. I wander around town more often than ever, finding excuses to see the others (mostly the farmer,) and I go on to bore them with tales of my unsuccessful writings.

With my lamp lit, I found my way back to my bed, my new plan for the night to reread over my pages and correct any mistakes I come across. Forever I will misspell at minimum ten words per page.

I may be a writer but I am no expert at spelling, ironic as it may be.

Just as I began to settle back in bed, there’s a knock at the door.

Unusual, but it wouldn’t be the first time Willy visited in the dead of the night. He might be in need of some snacks if he saw Sebastian earlier in the day, or asking for help to shovel rain water out of his shop again.

I groaned and slipped out of bed, now giving up on my plans and preparing myself for Willy’s visit. A night of fishermen’s stories and tellings of his childhood. Not that I minded it, but I would rather relax tonight..

The knocking came again, urging me to open it and let them in. Part of me was tempted to ignore it, to pretend to be sleeping and leave Willy on his own — as rude as it may be.

But then—

“Elliott?” A voice called from outside my door, helpless and scared.

I ran to the door, flinging it open to reveal the farmer standing there. Drenched from head to toe, but still smiling as I greeted them. “Oh my goodness!” I cried and stepped back, opening the door even further and ushered them inside. “You must be freezing! Please, come inside!”

The farmer quickly ducked in, wasting no time in kicking off their boots and closing the door behind them. “I’m sorry to drop by so late,” they began and removed their jacket. “I just—“

“Couldn’t sleep?” I asked and took their jacket. I hung it and then offered a towel.

They gave me a sheepish smile, nodding and accepting the towel. “Did I wake you?”

I waved them off. “No worries, I was awake. I couldn’t sleep either.”

“Is it okay if… I stay here a while?”

I could tell they were embarrassed to ask, scared even as they avoided my gaze. If not for the cold weather outside, I would think they were hiding heated cheeked. But that may have just been wishful thinking. “Of course!” I replied. “Stay as long as you like—“ I paused, looking over their drenched clothes and uncertain on how to phrase my next words. “Do you… perhaps need a change of clothes?”

The farmer looked down again, chewing their bottom lip and twisting their hands in front of themselves. “I don’t want to be a burden—“

“Nonsense!” I rushed to my dresser, plucking a few of my clothes out to present them. Mostly oversized clothing, things I haven’t worn in ages but I knew would be comfortable and warm. It would definitely be better than what they wore now, anyway. “Let me know if these are okay,” I said and handed the clothes over. “You can change in the bathroom if—“

“Thank you!” The farmer replied and took the offered clothing….

And then began to strip before me.

I gasped and spun around, heat flooding my cheeks from what I’d saw so little of. Soft, supple skin… A few minor scars across their body, no doubt from the farm and the mines… How I wished to turn back around and take them into my arms, to kiss every scar, to lick every curve, to worship and adore their body just as they deserved.

I held myself back, taking a breath and moving to my bed to readjust the blankets and pillows. I wasn’t sure what tonight would bring, I wanted to keep my hopes low but—

“You can turn back around.”

They stood there, my sweater hanging off one shoulder and my old pajama pants hanging low on their waist. “Sorry about that,” the farmer mumbled. “I was actually really cold and started changing without thinking.”

“It’s no problem.” I chuckled and took their wet clothes from them, moving to hang them in my bathroom. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.”

Once in the bathroom, I closed the door behind me. How could they look so adorable in my clothing….

I slowly hung their clothing, willing down the urge to run back out and pull the farmer into my arms. To compliment them on how cute they looked, to kiss across their exposed skin and slip my hands under the sweater they wore. To lead them into my bed and remove their borrowed clothing piece by piece—

“Fuck,” I whispered and stared down at the shirt I held. I forced myself to hang it up with everything else.

Tonight, the farmer came to me for a place to relax. For a place to hide out the storm. For a place they knew they could trust without a starving writers wandering hands all over their body. Their perfect, gorgeous, sexy, strong body.

I shook my head and stepped out of the bathroom, ready to chat with the farmer about the weather, about the night sky, about everything but my cravings to just touch them. But all of the words fell out of my mouth.

They laid in my bed, under the covers and flipping through one of my books from the library. The light of my lantern dancing across them, their beauty freezing me in place. A fantasy I’ve dreamt of a million times, only now I could do nothing. My breathing unsteady, the palms now sweaty, my throat dry and all words failing me as I let my eyes trail over them.

The farmer noticed me and scooted to the side of my bed, pushing themselves into the wall before patting the empty side. “It’ll be warmer under the covers,” was all they said before they looked back down at the book. A book that only detailed the secret to ‘writing an award willing novel.’ Something I knew they wouldn’t actually be interested in but…

I climbed into the bed and slid under the covers, biting my tongue when my leg brushed against their own. This couldn’t actually be happening, right? There was no storm outside and I was simply in a very deep sleep. If not for the warmth coming from the farmer, I may have actually believed I was dreaming…

The farmer leaned towards me, their head coming to rest on my shoulder, their book now closed and forgotten in their lap. I kept my eyes forward, my hands turning to fists as I let the weight of their head settle upon me. “This is nice,” they whispered and snuggled in a little further, one of their hands going to lap on my arm. “Do you mind?”

“No,” I muttered back, gulping as they shifted even closer, their arm now laying across my chest as they got more comfortable. “I— I don’t mind.”

My body felt like it was being doused in flames, feeling more aware than ever of everything around me. The rain coming back to my mind, softer than before as it fell across the roof, the thunder still rumbling outside but now miles away, the farmers hair as it brushed against my cheek, their arm as it laid over my fast beating heart, their thumb as it caressed my arm.

“I really appreciate you letting me come in tonight…” I could feel their breath across my neck, my body shivering as I let the feeling wash over me.

I took a breath, attempting to form the words. Their legs were on my own now, the farmer pulling me further into the bed and encouraging me to relax and our combined warmth made my eyes grow heavy.

“I’ve dreamt of this so many times,” I said, my voice a whisper as I finally gave me.

The farmer giggled, their laugh light and adorable… and bringing what I’d just said to light. “And? Is it everything you imagined?”

I sighed and wrapped one of my arms around them. “Even better.”

In the morning I would wake with the farmer still in my arms, their nose tucked into my neck and snoring softly. Our first night together that would become one of many.

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arachnerd-8-legs · 1 year

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two gallons is plenty, though.

#elliott stardew valley #elliott sdv #stardew valley elliott #sdv elliott #sdv elliott x farmer #stardew valley #stardew valley farmer #stardew au #had this one in mind for a while #arachart #arachocs #julian berker

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ssaeri · 1 year

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for your eyes only

☆ tags: elliott x gn!reader, elliott and farmer are married, he writes love poems for his spouse and is told to monetize them, oh boy is he not happy about that ☆

You pat your pig's backside encouragingly and coo as it digs its snout into the ground, unearthing yet another truffle that you add to your basket. Can't believe you were worried about this one being the runt of its litter—it's quickly proving to be one of the fastest learners, taking to truffle hunting like a duck to water. It'll do just fine with the rest of the adult pigs.

Taking care of the farm by yourself has always been a gargantuan task, but as the years go by, everything grows bigger—the coops, the barns, the ponds, the crops, the expectations—and exhaustion wears you down to the bone. You sigh and push to your feet, ready to head into the nearest coop to collect more eggs. Collect animal products, drop them into churning machines, harvest and sell. It feels like the cycle never ends. Against your neck, the small mermaid's pendant slides on its chain, another reminder of your absent husband. An extra pair of helping hands made the daily work light; you wonder if it's selfish to ask him to stay home more often.

"I know, I know," you say to your angry chickens once you open the door. You miss your husband, but these girls like to remind you that they miss him more. "He'll be home soon. Bear with me, okay?"

After giving each of them pats on the head, a motion they accept with reluctance, you dig around the hay for eggs. The large chicken and dinosaur eggs are easy to spot, but for the delicate duck eggs, you prod every corner with your fingers until you come across something warm and smooth. You push away your hens as they peck at your hands. The ducks are fine with you. The chickens, however...how in the world did Elliott win them over?

Outside, your dog barks. A single warning to the intruder before the tone shifts into excitement. Someone familiar, then. Maybe Marnie is stopping by to give you some hay like she mentioned last night. With winter approaching, any addition to your reserves is appreciated, and you're already wiping your hands on your overalls to greet her.

"Hey, Marnie! I'm just in here—"

You stop in your tracks when the visitor raises his head, though he's not exactly a visitor. Elliott smiles as you draw close, ignoring the horde of chickens now lining the fence for his attention. Their wings flap, clucking loudly as they hit each other.

"Good morning, my love," he says over the noise, as if it really is the start to a normal day. His thumb reaches out to rub at a dirt smudge on your cheek. "Have you eaten yet?"

"Just some leftovers and coffee," you reply, dazed. Your husband tends to have that effect, and after two weeks apart, you feel it more than ever. You lean into his touch, comforting against your wind-blown skin. "I thought you were coming home tomorrow?"

"I decided to come back early. The office didn't need me today, anyway."

"You should've messaged me! I would've picked you up at the train station," you say. Behind him sits his traveling suitcase, the wheels speckled with mud from being dragged through the road. He steps in front of it. "Why don't you go get unpacked? I'll be done soon."

He leans his elbows onto the fence, tilting his head until his fiery hair spills over one shoulder. "You're rather quick to dismiss my presence. If I didn't know better, I'd say that you're unhappy to see me," he says, though his words hold no accusation. It's merely a way to boost his ego when you reassure him. After all, you practically radiate by his side. "Would you like me to help?"

You glance at the dress shoes, the slacks, the spotless cardigan that he's already shrugging off to reveal a clean pressed button-down. Not exactly farm-friendly attire. "No, I'll be alright by myself."

"I could go change really quickly," he offers in a suspicious rush.

You search his expression then, and underneath the joy of being back, there's...something. You squint, unable to make it out. Sure, he must've missed you, but this feels like it runs deeper than that. When you give him a nod, he hurries towards the house, your dog chasing and barking at his heels. True to his word, he's back in minutes.

The chickens are much more cooperative now, and you roll your eyes at how they parade around your husband. They even hop around the coop, showing him where they've hidden their eggs from your intrusive searching.

"Thank you, dearies," he says to the hens. You swear they swoon.

"A real heart breaker," you deadpan. "Have you told them you're married?"

He chuckles, taking your hand as you move into the barns next door. While you lay out new hay on the feeding bench, he unhooks the stools and milk pails and sets them on either side of the door. It's hard to believe that just a few months ago he barely knew how to approach your animals, let alone help you with the chores.

He whistles lowly, and the first cow trudges to his station, ready to be milked. You get settled at your own station. One of the newer goats skids to the front of the line, eager to be let outside. It's not quiet in the barn—it never is, not with twelve grown animals waiting for their turn—but when you call Elliott's name, he looks at you. His ponytail needs to be retied.

"So why'd you come home early?" The young adult goats don't have much milk, just enough for a small container. You pat its hind leg, and it runs into the crisp autumn air with an excited bleat.

"I missed the atmosphere of our farm. The fresh air of the valley is good for my creative soul, unlike the bustle of Zuzu City."

You only raise your eyebrows, and he sighs from your all-knowing gaze.

"You read me a little too well, my love."

"I sure hope so, after all this time together. Did something happen at the office?"

Since the release of his last collection of short stories, he's been invited to the city more often for author-related events. This latest stint, running a series of writing workshops in partnership with Zuzu University and the local community, was organized by his agent in hopes of bigger opportunities. Maybe even a guest lecturer contract, they've said on more than one occasion, though Elliott refuses to be apart from you for too long.

Elliott gives another sigh. "Something like that. I just...it was admittedly negligence on my part. I was in the middle of writing you another letter when someone required my presence down the hall. I thought that it'd be a quick matter, so I didn't clear my desk. But apparently one of the secretaries came looking for me while I was out."

"Did they read...?" You wrinkle your nose, knowing how private Elliott is about his unpolished work. He's even more private about what he writes for your eyes only. "I'm sure they were embarrassed."

"That's what bothers me the most! She had the audacity to bring it up in front of everyone when we had a meeting, even quoted a few lines—"

The cow groans as he moves particularly rough. He gives it an apologetic scratch under the chin.

"So for the past two days, everyone has been trying to talk me into releasing a collection of love poems, which I would have no issues with if it didn't stem from such a personal...I mean, the poems were addressed to my muse, and when I explained that it was you, they said that was even better. Something about how the romance will really sell." He frowns. "I like being able to support myself—contribute to our funds, you know—with my writing, but it's not...a commodity. I'm allowed to make art for the sake of making art."

His forehead is furrowed, and you would reach out to ease the frustration if your hands weren't busy.

"What's your plan now?"

He scoffs. "There's no plan regarding that. I completely refuse. It's quite insulting, in fact, the idea that I'd put my love on display for a paycheck."

It's relieving, you have to admit. Even after getting a taste of success, your husband remains the same person you said your vows to. The same romantic who holds you in such high esteem. There's so many emotions—namely affection—swirling in your chest, but you're not the writer so all you manage is a simple Okay.

"Okay," you say again for good measure, but he must understand you because his expression smooths. "So what do you want for lunch?"

#stardew x reader #stardew valley x reader #sdv x reader #sdv elliott x reader #stardew x farmer #stardew valley x farmer #sdv x farmer #sdv elliott x farmer #stardew valley scenarios #sdv scenarios #sdv elliott scenarios #stardew scenarios #saeri writes;

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abyssanthia · 20 days

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the literal love of my life 💐

#my art #stardew valley #elliott stardew #sdv elliott #sdv elliott x farmer #sdv farmer #stardew valley oc #stardew valley elliott #stardew valley fanart #stardew valley flower dance

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hermitscrab · 3 months

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YOU LOOK TENSE — elliott, drabble

SUMMARY: After a long day of work, it’s nice to be pampered by your husband.

CONTAINS: sfw, fluff, established relationship, gn! reader

It’s been a long day but you can no longer dwell on it as Elliott is immediately by your side and whisking you away to be pampered.

You agree to his suggestion of a bath, lowering yourself in the water, sat between his legs as his hands get to work, messaging you with skill. You ramble on about your day, telling him about the good and the bad and how you’re so grateful he’s at home, ready to pick up the pieces.

You listen as he tells you about his day in his smooth and sweet voice, low in your ear that sends a chill up your spine. But eventually, a comfortable silence takes up the bathroom, only your content sighs and the running of water to be heard. He holds you close, an arm wrapped around your chest and lips pressing gentle kisses to your neck.

You’re draped in a fluffy towel once the water runs cold and Elliott escorts you to the bed. You snuggle up under the covers in your favorite nightwear, waiting for Elliott’s return upon him excusing himself after getting dressed.

As he promised, he’s quickly by your side again with dinner and a drink. And when you're done, he’s relieved to see you happy and relaxed as you finally drift off to sleep with his promise of always tending to you after a hard day’s work.

— want to request something? you can do that here!

#never written a drabble #i hope this is good!!#drabbles #stardew valley #sdv elliott x reader #sfw #sdv elliott #stardew valley fanfic #sdv elliott x farmer #stardew elliott #sdv x reader #sdv x farmer

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esfersart · 8 months

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a local farmer can't communicate

#Elliott #Dahlia #stardew valley #sdv elliott x farmer #digital art #cartoonish style #fanart #esfersart #commissions open

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circletrapped · 9 months

Text

Shattered

Elliott/GN!Farmer

2.8k words

Hurt/Comfort because I love Elliott so obviously I must make him Suffer, but also Fluff because I can’t stand to see him suffer

Rating: Teen+ (CW: Mentions of blood but nothing major).

Description: The Farmer has been spending a lot of time in the mines for reasons they won’t disclose to Elliott. Elliott, distracted by his worry, has an accident that sends him spiraling.

///

The rooster started its daily crowing session before the first rays of sunlight even peaked above the horizon. Elliott groaned. He hadn’t been able to sleep all night and instead had spent the last hour shifting his stare between the clock and the sky outside the window as it went from an inky black to a majestic blue. He looked back at the clock, which now read a quarter to six. He sighed, exhausted yet unable to sleep, and turned to face his slumbering spouse.

The Farmer had stumbled in about four hours ago, breathless and covered in dirt. They dropped their bag and gear at the foot of the bed, crawled in without changing and gave Elliott a half-hearted kiss on the cheek, then started snoring three minutes later. They had been doing this more and more frequently lately - but every day they would still wake up at six, kiss him, have a cup of coffee, stuff their bag full of food, kiss him again, run across the farm to feed the animals and water their crops, then disappear until well after dusk. If he was lucky, his spouse would give him one more kiss before leaving the farm. If he was unlucky, he’d be awakened in the middle of the night by rapping on his door and a very annoyed Harvey steadying them on his shoulder.

It was obvious the Farmer was spending their days in the mines. They would usually come home smelling like earth and hay (a smell which he didn’t mind and in fact was becoming quite fond of), but the smell of metal and dust clung to their clothes just as much as the blood and slime. It made him worry.

The mines were dangerous, and Elliott was very vocal about his apprehension.

“There are all kinds of monsters in there! What if you get lost, or run out of food, or get killed by something down there?”

“Elliott, relax,” the Farmer would insist, rolling their eyes, “I know what I’m doing. Besides, I know I’m close! I can feel it.”

“Close to what?”

The Farmer would clam up as soon as Elliott asked what they were doing in the mines so often. They would change the subject or distract him with kisses until they could slip away back into that wretched labyrinth.

Elliott once again sighed at the sight of his spouse, whom he loved so dearly and wanted nothing more than to beg to stay with him, where it was safe. But he knew it wouldn’t make any difference. The Farmer was strong and independent, knew their way around a sword, and could protect themself better than Elliott ever could in the mines.

Elliott slipped the pendant given to him by his beloved over his head then stood and got dressed in a comfortable turtleneck and slacks. He decided he would try to take his mind off his spouse’s recklessness by working on his new novel for the day. It was a story about a mermaid falling in love with the fisherman who caught her in his net.

He made his way to the kitchen to prepare coffee for him and his spouse - they were both going to need it. As he paced through the kitchen, biting on his thumbnail in a vain attempt to alleviate his anxiety, sunlight began to pour through the windows and illuminate the Farmer.

The farmer’s eyes tightened as they let out a sleepy groan and sat up, blinking the exhaustion away.

“Good morning, dear,” Elliott called to them. The Farmer smiled and faced him, eyes still half-shut and not quite focused.

“Mornin’,” they mumbled, rubbing their eyes before swinging their legs over the bed. They unbuttoned their shirt and tossed it toward the basket that was piled with dirty clothes above its rim. It fell about a foot short, to which the Farmer gave an annoyed grunt.

“I’ll take care of it,” Elliott said. “I’ve been meaning to wash those clothes for ages anyway. I’ve just been distracted.”

The Farmer, now wearing a clean pair of pants but still no shirt, strolled over and draped themself over Elliott’s back, giving him a peck on the cheek then resting their chin on his shoulder.

“Distracted by what?”

Elliott shot them a side-eye. “I think you already know.”

The Farmer laughed. “Don’t tell me you’re still worried about me going to the mines. I’ve made it home on my own every night this week!”

Elliott took the other cup of coffee off the counter and held it over his shoulder. The farmer released their grasp and took it, immediately bringing it to their lips.

“I know you’re capable of protecting yourself, but it’s still terrifying to think you could be alone unconscious in there for hours before someone finds you. How could I not worry?”

The Farmer took another long sip. “Just trust me, sweetheart,” they insisted. “I’ve almost found what I’m looking for.”

“Which is?”

“Going to be amazing.” The Farmer accentuated the sentence by gently tugging on Elliott’s pendant to pull him in for a kiss. “I have to make my runs and then I’m off. The faster I get to the mines, the faster I find it.”

The Farmer tilted their head back as they finished the cup of coffee. It was amazing to Elliott how they somehow managed not to burn their tongue drinking it like that. One more kiss, then the Farmer threw on a clean shirt, grabbed their bag, and all but sprinted out of the house.

Elliott’s sigh echoed off the walls. It felt so empty without his spouse. He clutched the pendant around his neck then brought it to his lips to kiss it. That proposal gift meant the world to him, and the ritual of kissing it was comforting to him. Like he was telling his spouse he’d be with them even when they were far away.

He finished his coffee then made his way to the pile of clothes gathering in the bedroom. The shirt that the Farmer had worn the day before had more blood than the others. No, it’s not theirs. They seemed fine. They must have encountered a lot of monsters down there. This isn’t their blood. It can’t be.

Elliott placed the shirt on the top of the pile and grabbed the basket, balancing it on his hip as he made his way outside. He emptied the basket into the wash bin and set it on the porch. He walked to the pond to gather water, where he could see his spouse in the distance, right on the property line. The Farmer glanced over their shoulder and upon meeting eyes with Elliott, gave a huge grin a wide wave.

“I love you, Elliott!” They shouted, louder than was necessary. Elliott smiled. The Farmer always went out of their way to make sure everyone in town knew how much they adored him. Elliott waved back and mouthed the words I love you, too, not confident in being loud enough for the Farmer to hear. He rarely raised his voice at all, let alone loud enough so be heard across several acres. The Farmer then took off running toward the mines. Elliott’s smile dropped and he sighed as he filled a bucket with water.

He carefully brought the water back to the house, trying not to spill any on the ground. After only a few splashes, he managed to reach the porch and poured the water over the clothes. He grabbed the soap from a nearby crate and started letting it bubble up the water. He grabbed the shirt the Farmer had been wearing the day before and started scrubbing the blood out of it first.

There were some parts of this new lifestyle that Elliott wasn’t exactly fond of, and laundry was one of them. No modern laundry equipment. The Farmer couldn’t afford it when they first moved to the farm, and figured they’d embrace the full self-sufficient experience by washing clothes by hand. Elliott would usually take the clothes elsewhere to be washed, but today he decided to endure the chore. It kept his mind occupied and let him feel even closer to his spouse.

It was still a dreadful process, though.

By the time he was finished hanging up the clothes to dry, he had changed the water four times, each time watching the various shades of red and brown soak into the dirt beside the house. The clothes weren’t what he’d call pristine, but his hands were wrinkled and cramping. Given that the odor was gone, the stains were fading, and the Farmer didn’t seem to mind a little discoloration, Elliott decided it was good enough.

He grabbed the basket and went back into the house to replace it. As soon as he crossed into the bedroom, the basket slipped out of his wet hands and before he could catch it, he tripped over the basket and barely put his arms in front of him in time to avoid breaking his nose. The fall knocked the wind out of him, though, and he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He winced as he steadied himself on his hands then froze in horror as he saw the cause of his pain.

His pendant was in shattered pieces on the floor.

Elliott could feel the blood draining from his face and his heart sinking below his stomach.

“No, no, no,” he whispered aloud, staring at the shards in disbelief. “No, nonono, no!”

Tears began to flood his eyes as he threw the basket out from under him and started scraping the pieces together. They were sharp, but he didn’t care. He needed all the pieces. Maybe if he held them together the pendant wouldn’t be broken anymore. Maybe he’d wake up in a moment beside his spouse and his pendant would be safe and intact on the bedside table.

He clutched the pieces together and didn’t let go, despite the fact that he could now feel them piercing his hands. If he couldn’t see them, he wouldn’t have to accept that he broke the most meaningful object that he’d ever been given. The object that represented his deep love and devotion to the one person he loved more than he’d ever loved anyone in his life. The reason he woke up before the sun. The reason he took time away from writing to feed animals and water crops. The reason he did laundry by hand.

There was nothing Elliott could do but sit on his knees, clutching the shards of his pendant, and weep. All the feelings he’d been keeping at bay came crashing down on him - his exhaustion, his burnout, his worry about his spouse. His weeping became overwhelming sobbing and he brought his clasped hands to his forehead.

“I’m so sorry,” he choked, “I’m so, so sorry!”

He kept repeating the words. Sometimes softy, sometimes screaming them until his throat got sore, then feebly squeaking them out. It felt like he was alone on the floor apologizing for hours. Apologizing to the pendant, his spouse, his hands.

“I got it!”

The Farmer’s voice hit him like a strike of lightning.

The door swung open. Elliott couldn’t bring himself to look in the Farmer’s direction.

“Just a few days, and it’ll be ready, and just in time! You won’t believe how much I had to bribe Clint with just to get him to expedite it! Elliott, you’re gonna be so-“

The Farmer’s ecstatic rambling came to an abrupt halt and Elliott could feel their stare.

“Elliott?”

He couldn’t speak. The Farmer walked in front of him and knelt down. He didn’t dare look into their eyes.

“Elliott, what’s wrong?”

Elliott’s lip trembled as he slowly opened his hands, which were now shaking and stained red.

“I’m sorry.”

His voice was hoarse from all the crying.

“Darling, I’m so sor-“

“Elliott, your hands! Here, wait, don’t move.”

The Farmer leapt up and ran to the kitchen. After hearing the sound of them rifling through the cabinets, Elliott heard their footsteps return quickly.

“Here, put those in here,” they instructed, holding a bowl under Elliott’s hands. He gently laid the shards in it, afraid to break them even more. After setting the bowl on the nightstand, the Farmer doused a rag in rubbing alcohol and put their free hand on Elliott’s arm. “This’ll sting a bit, okay?”

I deserve it.

When the rag came in contact with his wounds, his hand twitched, but his spouse winced more than he did. After cleaning the blood, his spouse gently wrapped his hands in bandages and gently kissed them.

“What happened, sweetheart? Are you okay?”

“I-”

Elliott’s voice broke. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath to regain his composure.

“I tripped. I fell on my chest and my pendant was underneath me and it broke. I’m so sorry, my love.”

The Farmer brought a hand to Elliott’s face and made him meet their gaze. To his surprise, the Farmer didn’t look upset or disappointed. Their expression was of concern and a touch of disbelief.

“Is that why you’re so upset? Because your pendant broke?”

“It’s not just some necklace, it’s special. You proposed to me with it, it represents so much, and now it’s ruined!”

The Farmer stared for a moment then gave a small laugh.

“Just because it’s broken doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop loving you!”

“Of course not, but I-”

“Sweetheart, it’s just a seashell! I’m not in love with it, I’m in love with you! That seashell doesn’t write me poetry, or keep me warm at night, or fuss about me adventuring, or help me with my chores just to make life a little easier. You know who does?”

The Farmer leaned in and kissed Elliott.

“You do. And I’m worried about how you managed to get yourself shattered, not that thing.”

Fresh tears streamed down Elliott’s face. The Farmer wiped them away only for them to be replaced. Elliott threw himself into his spouse’s arms and cried into their shoulder. They rocked him back and forth and gently shushed him, stroking his hair as he let all of it out.

“There we go,” they soothed, “it’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re alright. Just breathe, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

It took at least ten minutes of that to console Elliott before he looked up into his spouse’s eyes with a teary expression.

“You’re really not upset?”

“I wouldn’t be upset even if I didn’t have my little surprise in the works.”

“Alright, you have to tell me. What have you been in the mines looking for?”

The Farmer grinned.

“Will you be cheered up if I tell you?”

Elliott finally had it in him to summon a smile. “Yes, I will.”

“You know how in five days it’ll be the eighth of Fall?”

“Yes, our wedding anniversary. I’m so clumsy I couldn’t even keep my pendant together for a single year.”

“I was looking for gold and diamonds. So that I could have wedding bands made for us. And I wanted them both to have huge, sparkling diamonds that blind everyone in town! And I had to mine them myself so that everyone will know how much I’d do for you. I know I’m not usually the best gift-giver; you remember how my idea of flirting was giving you lobster after lobster.”

“Darling, I never get tired of lobster.”

“However,” they pressed, “that’s why I’ve been trekking through the mines all summer. So that I could give you something just as stunning and beautiful as you on our anniversary. Besides, now we’ll be matching!”

Five days later, the rings were finished and the Farmer took Elliott to the beach to exchange them as they recited the same vows they had a year earlier.

“There’s one more thing I want to give you,” the Farmer said, winded from how hard Elliott had just kissed them.

“What is it?”

The farmer took a cloth out of their pocket and pressed it into Elliott’s now healed hands.

“Open it.”

Elliott unwrapped the cloth and gasped. There his pendant was, the cracks having been sealed with gold.

“I found a lot more gold than diamonds in those mines, and I know how much it crushed you- I mean, how broken up you were- I mean, how torn you felt- I mean- Sorry.”

Elliott laughed. “How many of those did you come up with?”

“Oh, way too many.” Elliott swatted the Farmer’s shoulder and kissed them. “But I had Clint fix this up with the extra gold I got. He wasn’t pleased about the deadline, so I had to bribe him. Again. But it’s totally worth it.”

“Oh, darling, it’s beautiful. I don’t deserve you.”

The Farmer scoffed and took the pendant, moving Elliott’s hair out of the way and clasping it around his neck.

“You deserve the whole world, my love. And I’ll stop at nothing to give it to you.”

#circletrapped writes #i know this has too much exposition i know #not in second person this time because i just can’t i’m not strong enough #i don’t know how hand washing laundry works and at this point i’m too afraid to ask #elliott stardew valley #sdv elliott #stardew valley #sdv elliott x farmer #fanfiction

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unactive-shroom · 24 days

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Ignoring the twenty-something asks in my inbox right now, but would anyone be interested in a sort of interactive stardew valley fanfiction?

So basically, there would be choices you have to make on what to do, or say, and it will lead you to a certain story line. Each choice would lead you to another post (via link) and the story line would differ based on this. Obviously, i wouldnt be able to all the bachelors & bachelorettes, so i was thinking maybe 3 or 4 bachelors for now, and then the same amount of bachelorettes after i get into the swing of things.

If you are, please vote for which bachelors you want below (I'll pick the 3 or 4 most popular ones :) )

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drabblesandimagines · 1 year

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Muse

Soooo I played the Elliott yandere mod and I couldn't get it out of my head.

Pairings: Elliott x reader

Word count: 1496

Warnings: Yandere behaviour, non-consensual bondage, kidnapping, drugging - please don't read if you're not comfortable, it's all under the cut.

You woke up slowly at first. Your eyelids felt heavy, like you’d slept too much. You were on your side and you felt cold, confused and stiff. Where were you…? Did you pass out on the way home…? It had been ages since you’d done that – more aware of the time and your energy levels on your late night quests. No, the last thing you remembered was being at the kitchen table, having dinner, right? You went to rub your eyes and it was only then did you realize your hands weren’t complying. You tried again but something was stopping them, holding them behind you. Was that rope? You tugged again, your heart starting to thud before you shuffled up to your feet, balancing yourself against the wall. You started to breathe heavily, trying to come up with any reasonable explanation. The room was dark, but slowly your eyes adjusted to your surroundings. You made out some barrels - oddly familiar barrels. Wait, were you in your own cellar?!

Was that better or worse? You weren’t sure. You pulled again at the restraints but the rope was so tight. Okay, think - you were eating dinner, now you were in your cellar. Had someone been with you…? You needed to get out, get help. You pushed yourself forward and up onto your knees, slowly getting to your feet. You took a step forward but your legs were jelly, causing you to lose your balance and you crashed into one of the barrels, knocking it on its side and causing a racket.

Suddenly, thudding footsteps echoed above your head and the door to the cellar opened, flooding light from above. “Darling?”

You recognized the voice at once – Elliott.

“Elliott!” You cried out. “Please, help!” His towering form descended the stairs, looking down at you inquisitively before a frown graced his lips.

“Oh… You’re awake already, sweetheart.”

You shook your head, your thoughts coming to you slowly through the haze. Awake already? “Elliott, wh-what’s going on? Why are my hands tied?” Elliott. It was Elliott who was there. He’d popped round with a bottle of wine he thought could inspire your next batch…

“Hmph. That drug should’ve kept you under for far longer than this. Maybe I didn’t use enough…” He crouched down in front of you, placing his hands on your shoulders and looking deep. “Did you hurt yourself when you fell?”

“No, I’m okay”, you exhaled shakily. “Can you untie me, please?”

“Ah,” he let go of your shoulders and grasped your chin. “Not quite. I’m not finished upstairs yet.”

“Elliott, this isn’t funny. I don’t know if this is some sort of prank or-or if I said something that made you think this was something I was up for but you really have to untie me, please”.

He squeezed your cheek and chuckled. “No, darling, you have to be patient. Those ropes are staying nice and snug until I’m sure you’ll behave yourself.”

“Behave myself?” That made something in you flip. “What the fuck is wrong with you? This isn’t funny.” You struggled again with renewed determination, surely you were making some progress.

“My goodness, what a filthy mouth I’m discovering. I’m not sure I like that coming from such a beauty as yourself.” He frowned.

“I don’t care what you fucking like!” You spat, tears burning at your eyes. “Let me go, Elliott. Please. I won’t say anything to anyone, I promise.”

The red-headed man pouted at you, before he slipped two fingers in the Windsor knot of his tie and loosened it before whipping it off his neck entirely. He held an end in each hand and stretched it out. “Open – now.”

You shook your head, keeping your mouth firmly closed, tears trickling down your cheeks.

“We’ll do it the hard way, then.” His hand pushed you against the wall by your throat, lightly squeezing your windpipe until you opened your mouth in a gasp. He took his chance then, stuffing the blasted thing in between your lips and teeth and tightly knotting it behind your head. You let out a whimper as he patted your head patronizingly.

“That’s better. Right, I need some more time to get your things packed up. Unfortunately, as I said, that dose was meant to keep you under until we were well on our way, but never mind. I’ll finish upstairs and then we’ll get you situated for the move.”

You shook your head frantically, trying to protest through the gag.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t need to worry. We’ll have you safe and secure soon.” He dipped his hand in his jacket pocket, producing another loop of rope and wrapped it around your ankles as you began to sob. This can’t be happening, this cannot be happening… “There, all snug. Sit tight!” He grinned before getting up to his feet and dusted off his knees. He always wanted to look his best, after all.

You whimpered again as he walked up the cellar stairs. The tie tasted foul in your mouth, it was smothered in Elliott’s cologne – did he spray it on the thing deliberately? - and it left a horrible taste on your tongue and the smell… You felt like you were suffocating.

You don’t know how long he left you down there, but you twisted and twisted at the ropes around your wrists, feeling the coarse fiber burn at your skin. Surely they were getting looser, they had to be, or the rope would fray from the friction. Your face was slick with your tears and the tie now damp in your mouth. Your heart stopped as you heard the cellar door creek and your captor descended the stairs again, a glass of water in hand.

“Hi, sweetheart. How are we doing?” He smiled as he crouched down in front of you, brushing your hair out of your eyes and wiping your face clear of tears. You whimpered, giving a muffled plea that he ignored. “So, I’ve packed up what I think you’ll need and to make it seem you’ve moved on. Of course, I’ve already taken the liberty of buying you some new clothes. A beautiful muse such as yourself will require bespoke gowns to compliment your beauty.”

You swallowed hard, staring into his eyes, hoping he’d come to his senses.

“I brought you some water, sweetheart. Are you thirsty? I’ll take the gag off if you promise not to use such horrible words again – they’re really not befitting for you.”

You nodded frantically, anything to get this foul-tasting fabric out of your mouth.

Elliott smiled, before tugging the tie out of your mouth and down around your neck. “Here, allow me.” He held the glass up to your lips and you drank greedily, hoping it would clear the taste from your tongue.

“Good girl,” he complimented, placing the glass down. “You’re going to love our new place, darling. It’s not too far from here, of course. I didn’t want to do it this way, you know? But I’m afraid you rather forced my hand in the end. Don’t you realise how cruel you were being, gallivanting about town with every single bachelor? You were breaking my heart.”

“I’m… I’m sorry.” Maybe you could appeal to him, get him to change his mind? “I didn’t mean to. Can-can we start again? We could go to the Stardrop Saloon tomorrow night for a date, couldn’t we? Take a table near the back and t-talk.”

“Oh, there’s no need for all that now, sweetheart. The house is all ready and prepared for us. It’s not too far from here, as obviously I’ll need to go between the two to keep up appearances, as they say.” He chuckled. “People might talk if both you and I disappear.”

“B-b-but the farm,” you slurred – why are you slurring? – “They know I wouldn’t just leave that.”

“It’s been a tough year, hasn’t it, darling? A real learning curve. You’re too beautiful for all that hard labour and toil.” He clasped the side of your face with his hand, rubbing his thumb gently over your cheekbone. “It was all a flight of fancy, leaving Zuzu City. They’ll all think you found it too overwhelming and up and left. Why wouldn’t they? It’s exactly how you came here.”

“Elliott, p-please, can’t we t-talk about this?” The words felt heavy on your tongue.

“Shh, sweetheart. That’ll be the sedative kicking in. I gave you a bit more this time, just to make sure you stay asleep in transportation. I wouldn’t want you waking up and panicking in the box before we make it there.” He chuckled, as if it was something amusing, before pulling you close into his chest, pressing your face against it. “Don’t fight it, my love. You’re going to be so glad I took you.”

The world as you knew it slowly slipped out of view as you dreaded the one that awaited you on awakening.

#ghostdogwrites #yandere elliott #yandere elliott x reader #sdv elliott x farmer #sdv elliott x reader #stardew valley fanfic #yandere elliott mod #ghostdogwritesdusk

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