#yandere elliott

[girlwtdragontattoo]

Notre Dame

Stardew Valley Elliott x Female Farmer

Art belongs to @eindersein, please give them some love for this beautiful piece!

Hi! I wrote this, inspired by Paris' song, thinking Elliott and the farmer would definitely bond by exchanging ideas and reminiscing about their time in the city. I didn't really proof-read this all too well, I just really wanted a cute fluffy fic. I hope you enjoy!

Please also give the song a listen, it's beautiful!

-----

Elliott woke up from the sunlight warming his eyes. He had managed to make it into bed this time, an irregular occurrence as his constant back and neck pain proved. His desk usually served as his resting spot.

His long red hair tug under his arm, while he lifted his head, making him shift to free his tresses. Peering out into the beautiful afternoon light from outside, an immediate need to walk out and explore the sleepy town came over him.

Nowadays, there was a little more commotion than usual: the arrival of the mysterious farmer caused the villagers to stir, gossip and diverge from their routines just for a chance to meet her. Leah had already encountered the newcomer and expressed, a bit obviously, that Elliott would be very fond of her. He didn’t take his friend’s word for it, as she also assumed he would get along swimmingly with Shane. Despite having tried to greet him kindly many times, the downtrodden Joja Worker barely acknowledged him.

He would never admit it to Leah, but the writer was indeed curious. Mostly, because a new addition to an established town was the first time something interesting had happened here! It could be great inspiration for his novel. Maybe he’d write about a mysterious, retired detective, moving to a small town and causing the same ruckus as the farmer had in Stardew Valley.

Elliott brushed his mane, put on the clothes he wore every day and checked his reflection. Pocketing his trusty notebook, in case inspiration hit on the go, he stepped out on to the sunny beach and breathed in the crisp, November air.

The beach was mostly quiet, as it usually was in Fall. He saw Willy fishing absentmindedly on the deck, too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice Elliott had emerged from his shack. The writer saw him every day, it wouldn’t hurt to not speak for one of them. He wanted to enjoy the inspiring weather and take a trip into the forest a few miles away.

The redhaired writer crossed the stone bridge, waving at Lewis while he raked the fallen leaves in front of his house. He saw the grumbling Shane return to his aunt’s house after an early Joja Mart shift, but decided to leave him alone, walking a few measured steps behind him to avoid upsetting him further.

He passed Leah’s home, thinking briefly if he should stop by to say hello. Deciding he could do so on the way back, Elliott continued his stride into the beckoning woods. The number of leaves on the earth amplified the closer he got, the soft crunching under his brogues made him smile. He loved Fall. Not only due to it being his birthday season, but also because it provided a picture-esque setting for a romantic writer like himself. 

The trees started to clump closer together as he crossed the threshold into the forest. They swayed slightly in the cold breeze.

Elliott found a spot near a small babbling brooke, situated himself comfortably against a large tree and pulled out his notebook. He gazed up into the tree tops, watching the colorful leaves abandon their homes to fall down towards him. What a sight. He picked up a large, red maple leaf that drifted to his side, eyeing the vivacious color with adoration. Placing the pretty thing on his knee, the writer pulled out his trusty pen and started writing a few sentences.

The wind sang in his ear, as the hours passed. He collected interesting leaves that fell close to him, while he tapped the back of his pen onto the page. The words he was writing were alright, but not fascinating enough. There had to be something else here that would spark his roaring imaginatio-

“Oh- hey there!”

A soft voice pulled Elliott out of his writing trance. Looking up from his page, he met the eyes of a stranger. She wore a pair of hunter green dungarees, with a thick, white sweater underneath. Her sleeves were pulled up to her elbows, displaying strong forearms littered with fascinating tattoos. On top of her head rested a wide sun hat, that cast a long shadow down her front.

Elliott couldn’t help but blush at her shaded visage. It was the eyes that pulled him in, like mountain vistas painted by genius minds. She blinked.

“H-Hello!” he spat out hastily, as the pause between her kind greeting and him noticing her grew a bit too long. “You must be the farmer!”

She smiled and the writer’s inner voice squeaked at the sight of it. “Yup, that’s me! I’m YN.” She held out her hand.

Their palms met and he felt her callouses: “Elliott.” He realized he hadn’t returned her gentle smile and quickly remedied that by flashing his teeth. “I didn’t think anyone really came here. Apologies for my demeanor. I just wasn’t expecting to see anyone.”

“Oh no worries, I just discovered this place a few days ago. I wanted to take a break from work. Do you mind?” the farmer indicated that she wanted to join him, but stayed standing up.

“Yes!” the writer exclaimed excitedly. The excited answer obviously confused YN and he watched an eyebrow raise in response. Elliott noticed his mistake: “I mean- no I do not mind. Please.” He patted the spot next to him, clearing his throat in embarrassment. She smiled again, making his heart skip a few beats, and she joined him, placing a large guitar down into the grass. Elliott was surprised to see it appear out of nowhere, but he had to confess to himself that he hadn’t noticed anything other than her face and clothes when she arrived. She wrapped her arms around her knees, staring up into the dancing branches.

“So, Elliott…”, she began, “what’s your story?”

They sat for a while, exchanging their virgin journey to Stardew Valley. Elliott grew transfixed when he noticed she really listened to what he said. Did she... actually find what he said interesting?

She shared her decision to leave ZuZu city. “I hated my job. I felt like I was trapped and stowed away in that building. Like Quasimodo, haha!”

“That’s funny. That’s sort of how I felt back there. I couldn’t … let my head explore. It was so loud and disorienting being there. My mind seemed to emulate the chaos around me.”

“That’s such a poetic way of putting it.” She started plucking at the guitar strings while she stared up into the yellow crowns. Elliott didn’t answer. He saw little hearts float behind her head.

“I’m so curious what you’re writing! If you ever want someone to read over it, feel free to ask. I love stuff like that.”

Elliott nodded frantically; his heart felt a surge at the thought of her reading his drafts.

They sat beside each other in silence, but it wasn’t awkward. He felt extremely at ease near her, which ironically made him a bit uneasy. What was this sensation?

The longer they sat beside each other, the more consistent the melody became that she was plucking.

“How long have you been practicing music? I play the piano!” He wanted to learn as much as he could about her.

“Cool! I’ve been doing it since I can remember. But this guitar is new. I bought it right before Grandpa passed away. I love it, it’s so much easier to tune.” As she said that, she turned one of the dials to fix a string. “Maybe we can play together. Do you sing?”

Elliott giggled at the thought of him singing anything. He wasn’t awful, but you couldn't pay anyone to listen to him. He repeated the sentiment, feeling his face prickle when she chuckled.

“You're funny." His breath seized for a brief moment. "Well, then. I’ll sing and you can play? How does that sound?”

He couldn’t help but let the words tumble out: “We could write songs together.”

Her eyes started to glow. He felt a lump in his throat at the sight of her. He could’ve cried. He had a great relationship with Leah, the only other fellow artist in the village. She had a completely different artistic expression from him, though. It was fulfilling to know that more people would appreciate his way of thinking.

Elliott romanticized her already. He barely knew her, but felt sure they would grow closer, based on this exhilarating conversation.

She continued working out a melody, as Elliott eased into the tree trunk behind him again, listening intently as he jotted down a couple words her music inspired. She caught a glimpse of a few lines and giggled again:

“Did Quasimodo inspire you?”

“Haha, yes. You mentioning him made me think of being trapped up there. In the beautiful cathedral. Like you said you were at Joja. I'm a bit stuck though, don’t really know how to continue after tower.”

“Can I play around with what you wrote?” she asked with the cutest smile on her face.

Elliott felt his face blow up, he could tell he was a deep shade of red. “O-of course!!”

She nodded once, keeping the smile on her lips. She swayed, as she repeated the lines in a whispery tone while simultaneously strumming along. A few moments passed and Elliott couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. She closed her own, as she sang:

I'm in the rafters looking down

It's cold up here

Between walls of stone

I made my home

And the air hangs

Heavy with the incense

Feathers fall from pigeons

Cooing in the tower

I rarely go down there, the view's just so beautiful from here

And I can see everybody

At their worst points

At their worst points

I'm not a sadist, I enjoy just being able to be witness of the loneliness and be a higher power

In case there isn't one

In case there isn't one

I'm not a higher power, I just live in the ceiling 'cause I'm lonely on the fringes, and it gives my life some meaning

In the exile

In my exile

The grey light filters through roof slabs

And the flagstones glow

Bright from the stained glass

A hundred feet below

As I tiptoe

Creaking over prayers

Pleading with their maker

Crying with the choir

See upcoming pop shows

Get tickets for your favorite artists

I'm not immune to the sincerity below me

Makes me feel, it makes me holy, but through tears I understand

That I do not belong

No, I do not belong

Watching the figures, all the saints, but mostly sinners

Come and go and some are desperate, but the others have the sense that they do belong

And I do not belong

Some only turn towards the heavens when the end is feeling desperate,

have the overwhelming feeling

That there's nobody who's looking down

At least I'm looking down

Was this… what Shakespeare spoke about? The moment you meet your muse? The one?

Elliott had stars in his eyes as she finished her beautiful aria. When she looked at him, Elliott hurriedly clapped while she bashfully grinned.

“That was fun. You really inspired me,” she said sweetly. The writer could’ve wept at those words. Where had she been all his life?

She pushed herself up off of the ground and brushed the grass off of her legs. Had she noticed how transfixed he was? Was he making her nervous?

He tried to make his face look less in love. It wasn’t easy.

She turned to him and gazed down gently.

“I have to get back to my farm. The chickens need some love. But we should definitely play together. You down?”

Relief washed over his body. “Absolutely! I’d be honored!” Elliott felt some spit leave his mouth. He wanted to sink into the forest floor in embarrassment. She didn’t seem to notice, luckily, or perhaps she was just very polite.

“Cool! Where can I find you?”

“At the beach. The shack near the trees.”

“Awesome. I’ll stop by when I can! It was nice to meet you Elliott!”

The words left his lips in a sigh: "It was lovely meeting you, YN..."

YN winked, while she turned and walked back towards the forest entrance. Before she left through the branches, she raised her arm and waved at him.

He quickly waved back.

She disappeared behind the brush.

He felt like he had met God. Elliott fell back against the tree and started kicking his feet.

Finally, finally, finally.

Leah was right. He liked her.

A lot.

[504py]

“..Do you think I’ll see a crimson fish in the sea?”

this fanart came completely out of nowhere for a hetalia blog LMFAO

no fish ver. under the cut!

….good lord that elliott mod 😭😭😭 the ending really stuck with me for some darned reason. anyways, i really like how this turned out and i was wondering if y’all would ever be interested in a portrait mod in my art style, or, alternatively, a hetalia portrait mod…

[autumnywinter]

could you do some yandere elliott nsfw? i need this man like i need air to breathe i swear-

Just had a surgery this morning, I hope this is coherent because I still feel a lil groggy haha. I tried to make the reader as sexually neutral as I could since I don't do that very often. I hope I did decently ^^;

Yandere!Elliott x Reader

Tags: NSFW, MDNI, Stalking, masturbation, sex toy usage, general creepy behavior, gender neutral reader, no sex specified for reader

For hours at a time, Elliott would follow and stalk you (although he would put it into more light terms) as you went about your business. He wanted to be near you at all times, but the crowding might have scared you away so he made do with spying.

Sometimes Elliott would pretend to accidentally bump into you in town, acting as though it was coincidence that you were on the same street and walking in the same direction.

When you were gone, he sometimes snuck into your home. At first, he would only go to touch your things, the things that had touched you and smelled of you. He would hold up your shirt to his face and breathe in the smell, trying to simulate your embrace.

It wasn't as good as the real thing by any means, but it satiated him for the time being.

He grabbed a discarded pair of underwear on the ground, and didn't even think about his next actions. He brought it up to his face and shakily inhaled. A choked moan escaped his mouth.

Just as he was ready to pocket it and leave, he heard the front door open. He didn't have enough time to crawl out of the window, so he frantically locked himself in your closet. It wasn't the first time he had been in there without your knowledge, but it still filled him with panic each time.

His heart raced as you walked in, humming softly. He peered through louvered slats and saw you taking off your clothes. Elliott covered his mouth with his hand to keep from moaning aloud. His cock throbbed, and he felt ashamed.

You weren't a mere object for his satisfaction, but he couldn't help himself.

You stripped down completely, and he nearly came in his pants when you removed your undergarments and dropped it on the floor. This was so much better than watching you undress through the window.

Sure, he always had binoculars or a camera on you, but the visual was never enough. Now you were just a few feet from him, body ready to be ravished and worshipped.

It took every fiber of his being not to come out of the closet and do it himself. The anticipation was too much. He began to undo his fly as quietly as possible.

He watched as you slowly and sensuously rubbed yourself. He imagined it was him you were thinking of.

Next thing he knew, he was using his free hand to bring the underwear up to his face. It smelled just like he imagined it would, your scent driving him wild.

Like fate, you flopped on the bed and grabbed what he recognized as a dildo. As upset as he was you were using other toys when you could be using his very-real cock, his disdain melted into pleasure again once you started fingering yourself, preparing yourself for it.

He imagined he was the one preparing you for his own cock. He imagined his fingers deep inside you, gently caressing your warm, wet inner walls. He would coax you open, until he would be able to replace his fingers with his leaking cock.

Not without pampering you beforehand, of course.

He ached for you, and had to finally free his erection from the confines of his pants. He shuddered from the cold air against his burning flesh.

He spit into his palm and stroked himself to the rhythm of your fingers. Normally he never used his own spit, but he was too frenzied to care.

The underwear pressed against his nose as he inhaled deeply. It was intoxicating, and he felt more drunk than if he had chugged an entire keg of beer. The scent was pure you, and he would never have it any other way.

You started teasing yourself with the toy, just about the size of his own cock. He wished it was him, filling you up and making you cry out in ecstasy.

A beautiful moan escaped your lips once you slid it inside, slowly. 'That's it, theeere you go, sweetheart,' he cooed to you in his head. He started stroking his cock slower, only to imagine it was him pushing inside you at such a gentle pace. He could be so sweet to you if you just gave him a chance.

You rocked yourself back and forth on the dildo, making a motion so mesmerizing to watch. He couldn't take his eyes off you, even if the view was obscured.

Elliott didn't notice he was drooling pathetically, but he didn't care.

He sped up his pace to yours again. He felt so dirty watching you like this, but he felt too good to stop.

Suddenly, you switched positions and the view got a little better. Now Elliott had the full picture of your entrance accepting the toy so readily.

He envisioned himself hovering over you, and kissing your soft skin while moving in and out of you. Oh, what he'd give to have your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his waist.

The scenario was set clear in his mind. After a romantic candlelit dinner, he'd make love to you on the bed. The lighting would be dim and sensual, with his scented candles burning pleasantly. He would treat you to a full-body massage first, getting you all loosened up before he made sweet love to you. He would whisper how much he loved you in your ear and cover your face in kisses. He'd make sure you climaxed first, before taking his own.

That is, if he could even control himself. He had came in his pants an embarrassing amount of times just looking at you. He was barely hanging on at this point, but he tried to wait for you to finish first.

Your shift in moans showed you were getting close, so he brought the undergarments down from his face and to his cock. He wrapped them around himself and ardently stroked his cock.

His breath hitched at how intimate it felt, using the garment as a tool for masturbation.

He was teetering on the edge when you suddenly cried out in your orgasm. The noise was a symphony to his ears, and he came soon after.

For a moment, he saw stars. He had masturbated to you countless of times before, but that was the best orgasm he ever had.

His vision returned, and he felt disgusted with himself. He had came in your underwear. He couldn't return it to you now; he was supposed to leave no trace behind. He supposed it'd make another good keepsake.

Elliott's attention turned back to you. You were covered in sweat and catching your breath.

He wished he could cuddle you afterward, stroking your hair and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He'd give you a nice bath, and then order something nice from the restaurant for take-out, since you'd both be exhausted. He knew how much you loved your take-out, anyway.

Elliott rearranged himself into his pants. You stood up from the bed and went to the bathroom, and he quickly gathered your discarded clothes from the floor, along with your used toy.

He wanted to use that opportunity to leave, but he was still too busy composing himself.

You entered your room again with your regular night clothing and passed out on your bed. Elliott peeked through the slats of the closet again to watch you sleep for a couple minutes. It was such a gorgeous sight.

Finally he opened the door, gauging your form for any signs of reaction. He silently sighed in relief when you didn't move. He did his best to not step on anything that would creak under his weight and had to stifle a chuckle. You kicked your covers off of you in your sleep.

He risked pulling them back over you and taking that moment to stare once more at your relaxed expression.

One day you'd be his. He considered himself a patient man.

[razberry-cookie]

"You want her, you need her And yet you don't believe her When she says her love is dead You think she needs you"

[writer-by-the-sea]

NSFT - NOT SAFE FOR TUMBLR, Minors DNI

Elliott imagines what it would be like with you. On top of you.

Script below if needed.

NSFT, me moaning and sounding desperate as hell, thrown together script, volume warning, and warning for sounding nothing like Elliott should. Enjoy.

I can’t take my eyes off of you. 

Even the way you bend down to pick up a random fruit or vegetable creates lust in my heart. Today, you’re on the beach, half naked and lying on a towel while you soak in the sun. 

While I’ve never been the type of man to openly oggle another being, I couldn’t seem to stop myself; peeking at you from behind my curtains like a sick man. 

Despite years of learning to control myself, to present myself with nothing but elegance and poise; I stroke myself as I watch you. 

How badly I ache for you, how I throb in my hand; my cock needy and leaking just a little bit. 

In my youth, I would have never dared to risk being caught like this. Moaning your name and fucking my own hand while I imagine you below me. 

Your legs spread wide, your face filled with ecstasy as I pound into you, screaming my name and begging for more, more, more. The way I would crush my lips down onto yours, swallowing your moans as we reach that limit together. 

How you would shake, just a touch, your head thrown back and your voice silent and, for just a moment, the only sound in the room is my hips smacking into yours as I push harder and faster into you–

And then you cum, shouting it to the heavens as I finally settle in to chase my own high. Dropping my head into your shoulder, my hips thrusting with abandon until I finally finish with you. Filling you with my cum, each rope of it decorating your inner walls before it’s close to overflowing-

Fuck-

My free hand punches into the wall to support me while I finish into my occupied hand, my cum coating my fingers and dripping onto the old weathered floor. 

When I look back up out the windows, you’re still there; blissfully unaware of the man watching you. 

One day, you may be mine, and I will forever wait for you.

[octocup]

Surprise Hugs!

[athinga]

"Dance with me darling, for the last time... Only then you'll truly be only mine."

Don't you hate it when your 'soulmate' has a soulmate that is not you and you have to take matters into your own hands? Yeah me too.

GORE WARNING ↓↓

Anyway Yandere Elliott if you couldn't already tell!

The idea of this soft romantic who would not hurt a fly being a psychopath piqued my interest so there you go, my version of that featuring my unfortunate oc Milo. May they rest in peace

[meowsgirldrawing]

Yandere!(Mod) Elliott + Mookie

Option 1-

Option 2-

[struggling-sketches]

Yandere Elliott mod drawings cuz I missed him, and I wasn’t prepared for the ending 💀

[girlwtdragontattoo]

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?

[galacticwarpedlense]

Redid an old drawing. Dahlia is once again, not happy with any of this.

The old one wasn’t really old, I just wasn’t fully happy with it so I redid it. Now with Fall outfits!

For reference, here’s the old one.

[autumnywinter]

Your Yan!Elliott posts are endlessly fascinating to me. I propose an idea for you if you are up for it: Yan!Elliott finally has his prize all to himself, only to learn he's simply done the job for them. He's not the only obsessed one. He's not got his prize caged up. No no. He's caged with them. Wasn't it always rather odd that his target of infatuation quickly learned everything about him, his schedules, his interests, his favorite foods? Did he ever even notice? (Based a little on the fact that--let's be real--we players are the weird ones)

Omg thank you! :) And true, I would 100% be considered the creep if my farmer's behavior imitated my own irl behavior haha T_T

I made Reader a lot more smug than I normally do. I hope this is good!!

Yandere!Elliott x Reader

Tags/warnings: Suggestive, drugging, mentioned stalking, dubcon (kinda but not really), yandere x yandere, gender neutral reader

Sometimes Elliott felt like he didn't even need to stalk you around the town. He'd walk out of his cabin, camera, binoculars, and caffeine gathered for a stakeout, only for you to be waiting outside with a smile on your face. That same smile that made him feel like he was soaring.

Not only that, but you knew just what he liked. Granted, he'd like anything if it were from you, but he had a whole year's supply worth of pomegranates and ink stocked up in his cabin.

He didn't even want to put either to use, treasuring each item you gave him like a rare gem. He did eventually crack and eat the pomegranates though. He was only human, after all!

There was no doubting it. You were perfect.

Each time he'd write lengthy letters to you, all from your "secret admirer", he'd watch your expressions. You always looked delighted to have received a letter. Though you never once attempted to find out who was sending you them. Elliott wondered if maybe you already knew, but never wanted to get his hopes up.

He made sure to describe how stunning you were in every letter he wrote. It was important for you to know how perfect you were. So perfect, that you didn't deserve to be around anyone else. No one would ever love you as much as Elliott did.

Despite the countless gifts he had received from you, despite you seeming to know his schedule down to a T, he was still determined he needed to win your affection over. All because he needed more.

He needed to hold you. He needed to taste you. He needed to marry you. He needed you.

"Hey, Elliott!"

The writer turned opened his door, delighted to see you. It was a rainy day, which was when he always stayed inside, save for stalking you at specific hours. You'd usually visit him on rainy days, and naturally he'd always be quick to invite you in. He knew you were likely coming over, which was why he already had a nice dinner prepared and everything.

"Come in, please," he said, holding the door open. You hurried inside and removed your wet raincoat, hanging it on the coat rack. Elliott headed straight for the kitchen, where he dished out the dinner he had prepared, along with the spiked wine.

He didn't have any awful intentions, of course! He just... wanted you to himself for a little longer than you normally stayed. That wasn't so wrong, was it? He wanted to savor this.

Besides, it wasn't like it was the first time he had done this.

"How are you?" he asked, sitting down at the table across from you. He waited eagerly for you to take a sip of the wine.

"I'm okay," you replied, giving him a smile that made his heart melt. "Just exhausted. I spent all day working."

He knew. He watched you.

"Then let me give you a nice relaxing time," he suggested, making sure to sound polite as he could. "Drink some more wine. Tell me all about your day." He didn't even realize his lovesick smile listening to you talk. He was excited for you to become sleepy and less aware of your surroundings. Then he could hold you and kiss you and you wouldn't even remember a thing the next morning.

It was honestly the only thing keeping him from going insane. He could be creepy as he wanted with you and you wouldn't even care. Although he'd use the term "romantic" instead.

After he nearly finished his own drink, he noticed his mind becoming hazy. He was a bit of a lightweight, he'd admit, but it took more than one glass to get him feeling like this. He tried to blink the dizziness from his own eyes, and could make out your eyes on him and a smirk on your face.

"Oh no, are you okay? You don't look so good," you feigned innocence. Even through his hazy state, Elliott could hear the smug grin in your voice.

"D-Did... did you...? Are you...?" He couldn't form a coherent sentence.

"Yep," you confirmed. "You've done it to me several times now, figured I'd return the favor. It's only fair, right?"

He should have been angry or upset about this, but he wasn't. Instead, his cheeks turned bright red as he stared at you in a dumbfounded awe. He didn't know what he was feeling right now, but it definitely wasn't anger. Arousal, anticipation, delight... maybe a mixture of all three.

"To be fair," you continued, "I never was really drugged. Just pretended to be, because I wanted to see what you would do." His breath hitched when you straddled his lap, holding his tie in your hand. "Just to see how far you'd take things."

"Y-You..." He never thought he'd see the day where his words failed him. But how was he supposed to speak when you were on his lap looking so delectable? He subconsciously licked his lips as he drank in every detail of your body. The way your chest rose and fell, your breaths as heavy as his, your eyes clouded with lust. He could only imagine how much of a fool he looked right now.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" Your voice was soft, sweet. "Did you think I'd never find out?"

Elliott paused for a moment before chuckling. He rested his hands on your thighs and massaged them gently. "You know me too well, darling." He placed a gentle kiss to your throat. "How did you know?"

"How did I know you were spiking my drinks?" You giggled and kissed his ear. "Because you're not subtle at all." You licked a stripe down his neck, enjoying the shivers you felt from him. "And because I want you just as much as you want me."

He placed his forehead against yours and let out a shaky sigh. "I... I'm very relieved to hear that." He didn't even bother to hide his erection pressing against you. "If I could, I'd tell you just how much I adore you. But..." He trailed off, growing more deadweight. His head fell forward against your chest as he struggled to keep his eyes open. "I love you. I love you so much."

You rolled your eyes at how dramatic he was being. "You'll be fine, love," you whispered. "And I love you, too."

Despite Elliott falling limp into your arms, he refused to loosen his grip on you the entire night. Or the morning to come.

[razberry-cookie]

Drawing younger Michael made me realize Elliott would be his age now when he was twenty yeesh, Elliott also looks like a teacher assistant here-

[writer-by-the-sea]

Yandere Elliott, 10 heart group event. SPOILERS.

Forgive me, I didn't realize my Mac wouldn't record audio from the game; thus I decided to do a voice over and add 'creepy' music (from Silent Hill 2.)

Dialogue below:

Elliott: ...What's the matter, Darling? Didn't you come here for a drink? Elliott: You're trembling... Are you okay? Elliott: You're not sick are you? ...Do you want to see Dr. Harvey? It just so happens that he's here too. Elliott: Hah. Just kidding. Elliott: It'd be fine if you were sick. You'd never be able to leave me that way. Elliott: ...You're not trying to run away, are you? Elliott: Didn't you promise to stay with me forever? Elliott: Why are you acting so skittish? Don't you want these people to see that you're mine? Sam: Hey, Elliott! Knock it off! Elliott: What? Elliott: And who are you to stop me? Elliott: Come, my love... Kiss me. Elliott: ...Or do you want me to take the initiative? If so, then I can't guarantee it'll end at just a simple kiss. Elliott: Shh... don't be afraid, don't be afraid. You are doing great. Elliott: Now, let's go home, shall we? Elliott: No, I'm not angry... I've always wanted to do this... Elliott: You're going to be with me forever, aren't you?

[octocup]

Here is something no one asked for.. yandere Elliott

[panickingpansexuality]

I'm Right Here

Yandere Elliott finding out your pregnant

Elliott x FEM bodied reader

This is based on a scene in the game after you divorce Elliott. Mentions of depression and an attempted suicide.

Shit. Shit. SHIT.

You looked at the pregnancy test on the sink, the two little lines indicating a whole new world of bullshit. Five months ago you and Elliott had gotten divorced, his obsessive behavior finally becoming too much for you but now...now what you wouldn't give to have him here at least to comfort you.

Three months ago you and him were at the Saloon and you both had one too many drinks and one thing led to another and in the morning you had a familiar ache between your legs and enough energy to run out of his cabin without looking back.

Looking at one of the tests you put one in your pocket and take a deep breath, he's got to know. You have to tell him, you have to tell him a lot of things.

You go outside in the pouring rain, the flag to your letterbox is up, you open it and see a letter from Elliott asking you to come to the beach.

You feel sick to your stomach, so many horrible possibilities run through your brain. You two haven't spoken since that night and you've heard from Leah that he wasn't doing so great, her and Willy keeping an extra sharp eye on him. It made your stomach churn, fear that you'd miss your chance to tell him.

Shoving the thoughts down you decide what must be done, you turn towards your house to grab a jacket finding it locked. You curse, Elliott most likely still has his key. Hopefully you can catch him on time.

By the time you make it to the beach, Elliott's standing in the dock, he looks weakened like he hasn't been taking care of himself, the bags under his eyes are deep and prominent, the he looks thinned out, his muscles looked weak, even his hair looked greasy.

"Elliott?" You call out coming closer to him, you're shivering and when he turns to you he notices.

"What are you doing without a coat?!" Elliott says rushing to meet you in the middle of the dock, he throws off his jacket and puts it in you.

"I locked myself out.." you admit shamefully.

Elliott sighs and pulls out his house key from a chain around his neck, with it his wedding ring.

You don't want him to take it off, it physically pains you to see the chain come off and fall into your hand.

The cold metal of your ring presses against your chest and reminds you that you two are more alike than you think.

"Why did you want to meet here?" You ask clutching the necklace tightly.

Elliott's quiet for a moment, then he walks towards the edge of the dock and speaks:

"Remember the last time we were out at sea? I spent a long time thinking about it after finishing my novel..."

You did, you remembered the entire moment like it just happened and you loved every moment of it.

"I always knew things wouldn't end well between us and deep down I always knew I'd never see the day I'd grow old."

Cold fills your veins, dread fills your heart. You reach forward and hesitate to grab his hand, to pull him off the dock and into his home.

"As it turns out not only are the unsuccessful but the unfortunate are afraid of death.."

"Elliott.." you say.

He turns and smiles at you, he lets out a small chuckle and says;

"Don't worry I'm not going to die I'll probably come back as a fish or something.."

Without thinking you throw yourself at his back wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms over his chest, he stumbled backwards.

"WILLY!" You scream out, hoping that he hears you.

"(y/n)!" Elliott almost yells at you. "Let me go!"

"No!" You scream out. "WILLY GET THE FUCK OUT HERE!"

Thunder roars and Elliott moves swings you around trying to get you off of him.

"If you go, you're going to take the two of us with you!"

Elliott pauses, your weight is doing more to him than you think, without thinking he reaches behind him and presses a hand to your unusually firm stomach.

You're starting to cry the rain thankfully mixing your tears. Finally the door to Willy's place opens and he sees you two.

"HELP ME GET HIM OFF THE DOCK!" You yell.

Willy understands what's happening immediately, and rush to help you. You hop off his back and Willy helps you take Elliott back to his house. He doesn't fight you two.

You three enter and Elliott goes on his bed and sits there unable to look at either of you.

"Keep him inside." Willy says, "I'll go get Harvey."

You nod and sit with him.

For a moment the only sound you two hear is the rain hitting the ceiling, the smell of the rain and sea mixing together in the house.

"You didn't mean Willy up there." Elliott says softly.

"No.." you say, "I didn't.."

"Are you pregnant?" He asks looking over at you, his eyes are red and he looks so broken.

You nod and start to tear up. For a moment he's quiet, and then he looks over and with humor in his voice he asks;

"Is it mine?"

You grab his pillow and make a swing at him, he smiles and puts a hand up to deflect the hit.

"Asshole!" You grunt out, Elliott grabs the pillow and you two struggle with it before the both of you are hanging onto it tightly, you're glaring at him but he's got happy tears going down his face.

"I know I'm just joking."

You let go of the pillow and he puts it beside him.

"I'm keeping it." You state, "I know you don't want to stay but...but if you did and if you wanted to know them..you're more than welcome to."

"I'm gonna be a dad." He breathes out.

"Ellie..." You say, "You can't try and leave like that again..please I can't..I can't- they won't understand and I'd..I'd miss you too much."

"You'd miss me?" He scoffs.

"I wasnt that drunk." You say the tears come easily.

"I miss you, I know how you can get but if we can work together on it so you don't keep me in bed rest just because you're jealous..."

Elliott winced, he isn't proud of his past actions.

"Then I'd welcome you back.."

"Ok." Elliott states, "I'll work on it, I'll get better and I won't leave you, I don't think I'd have it in me after..this."

You press the hand that still holds the necklace and press it back into his hand. Wordlessly he unclips the necklace and puts his ring back on his finger.

"I'll get you a new one." He promises.

"No need." You say pulling your necklace out and unclip it and put your ring back on your ring finger.

Once you're finished you notice Elliott's watching you, for how long you don't know. You stare at each other for a moment before he leans forward and kisses you. You pull yourself more on the bed, Elliott presses himself against you like you're air, like he's trying to make sure you know how much he loves you. His hand goes on your stomach and he breaks for air, his head going into your shoulder. You feel his entire body start to shake and his small cry goes to a sob.

You hang onto him tightly, as his cries continue to grow.

"I'm sorry." He sobs out, "(y/n) I'm so sorry, for everything. I love you. I swear I do I'll get better for you, for us, I swear."

The door opens and Harvey and Willy walk back in.

Elliott and Harvey talk for a long time, Willy stands at the door and you sit beside Elliott holding his hand.

At the end of it, Harvey says he's going to call a friend in the city for Elliott but tonight he shouldn't be alone.

"He can stay with me." Willy states, "Or if (y/n) wishes to keep an eye on 'im."

"I'll go with them." Elliott says, "They locked themselves out and I still have my key.."

Harvey nods and looks over at you for reassurance which you give in the form of a nod.

Once you and Elliott reach your place and he unlocks the door you're both soaking wet.

"I'll go get some spare clothes." You tell him, "I still have some of yours.."

When you come back into the living room Elliott's taken off most of his clothes and set the wet ones in the dryer.

You've seen him naked before, you've seen him fully clothed, but you can never prepare yourself the sight for how beautiful he is to you.

You wish the storm had taken out the power because you're blushing so incredibly hard at the sight of him.

Elliott gives you a soft smile at the notice of your expression. He walks forward and kisses your forehead before taking his clothes into the bathroom.

A few minutes later you're changed and both of your clothes are in the dryer, Elliott comes out holding one of the positive tests in his hand. He looks up at your with tears running down his face and asks:

"Can I frame this?"

You giggled and nod, grabbing his hand you lead him to your bed, hesitantly he puts the test on the nightstand and crawls under the covers with you.

"Are you sure?" He asks

"Yes." You say, "Are you ok with it?"

"Absolutely," Elliott says, he takes your cold hand from under the covers and presses a kiss to it. "I haven't been able to sleep since we divorced."

"You slept pretty well last time I saw you." You grunt out curling towards his chest.

"That's because I had a wonderful work out before then." He says,

You both chuckle at his response and you sneak one of your hands in his, gripping it tightly.

"I'm right here." He says, "I'm right here."

"So am I." You say, "I'm not going anywhere again."

Elliot's hand grips yours and his other sneaks around your waist.