Another SDV Trash Blog

Just here to post my Stardew stories. Certified Haley and Penny fanatic.

[pariahofpelicantown]

Filthy Little Vignettes: SDV Edition

(Emily x M! Farmer)

NSFW: Minors DNI!

Firelight danced across the wooden walls of the farmhouse, casting a warm glow over the cluttered room. The farmer’s bed was a tangle of quilts, the floor strewn with seed packets and a half-polished hoe leaning against the wall. Outside, the Pelican Town night hummed with crickets, the air heavy with the scent of earth and spring blossoms. Emily stood in the doorway, her blue hair catching the fire’s flicker, her patchwork skirt swaying as she leaned against the frame, a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

“You’ve been working too hard, farmer,” she said, her voice a lilting tease, vibrant as the crystals she loved. “All those crops, animals, mines… when do you make time for fun?”

The farmer, sprawled in a chair by the fire, looked up from the glass of wine he’d been nursing. His hair was mussed from a long day, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a sliver of sun-kissed skin. “Fun?” he said, his voice warm, a grin tugging at his mouth. “I thought harvesting turnips was the height of excitement.”

Emily laughed, a bright, musical sound that filled the room. She crossed the space in a few fluid steps, her movements graceful, almost dance-like. “Oh, you’re hopeless.” She stopped in front of him, close enough that he could smell the faint lavender on her skin, mixed with something wilder, earthier. “Lucky for you, I’m here to fix that.”

Before he could respond, she reached out, her fingers curling under his chin, tilting his face up to meet her gaze. Her eyes, bright and commanding, held a playful heat that made his pulse quicken. “On your knees,” she said, her tone light but firm, a challenge wrapped in a smile. “I have something for you to do.”

The farmer’s grin widened, but he didn’t hesitate. He slid from the chair, dropping to his knees on the worn wooden floor, his hands resting lightly on her hips. Emily’s smile grew, her fingers threading into his hair, tugging gently to guide his head closer. “Good boy,” she murmured, her voice dripping with approval. She lifted her skirt, bunching the colorful fabric in one hand, revealing smooth thighs and the soft, bare skin beneath.

The farmer’s breath caught, his hands tightening on her hips. He looked up at her, her face framed by the firelight, her expression a mix of playfulness and hunger. “You’re trouble,” he said, his voice low, rough with want.

“And you love it,” Emily shot back, her fingers tightening in his hair, pulling him closer. “Now, be useful.” She guided his face between her thighs, her stance widening slightly, her body radiating confidence. The farmer didn’t need more encouragement. His lips brushed the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, teasing, before his tongue found her, warm and slick with arousal.

Emily’s gasp was sharp, her head tipping back as she steadied herself against his shoulders. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice a soft moan, her fingers raking through his hair, holding him firmly in place. “Just like that.” The farmer’s tongue moved with purpose, slow at first, savoring her taste—sweet, musky, uniquely her. He flicked lightly, then pressed harder, his lips sucking gently, drawing a low, shuddering moan from Emily’s throat.

Her grip in his hair tightened, not painful but commanding, keeping him exactly where she wanted him. “You’re so good at this,” she purred, her voice a mix of praise and tease, her hips rocking slightly against his mouth. The farmer’s hands slid up her thighs, gripping her firmly, his fingers digging into her soft skin as he worked, his tongue circling, teasing, relentless. Emily’s breaths grew ragged, her moans louder, filling the quiet farmhouse with the sound of her pleasure.

The firelight played over her skin, highlighting the flush creeping up her chest, the way her lips parted as she gasped. “Don’t stop,” she said, her voice hitching, her fingers tugging his hair harder. The farmer hummed against her, the vibration sending a jolt through her body, and she cried out, her thighs trembling around his face. He could feel her getting closer, her movements more desperate, her grip almost possessive. His tongue moved faster, more precise, and when he sucked gently on her clit, Emily’s moan was raw, unrestrained, her body shuddering as she came, her fingers clutching his hair like a lifeline.

She rode out the waves of her climax, her breaths heavy, her body trembling against him. The farmer didn’t pull away, his lips softening, kissing her gently as she came down, her fingers loosening in his hair, stroking now, almost tender. “Not bad,” she panted, her voice warm with satisfaction, a playful edge returning. “But we’re not done.”

She tugged his hair, pulling him up to his feet, her eyes glinting with mischief. The farmer stood, his own arousal evident in the tight strain of his trousers, his face flushed from pleasing her. Emily’s hands were on him in an instant, pushing his shirt off his shoulders, her nails grazing his chest as she backed him toward the wall.

She pressed herself against him, her lips crashing into his, tasting herself on his tongue. The kiss was hungry, fierce, her hands roaming his chest, then lower, deftly undoing his belt. The farmer groaned into her mouth, his hands finding her hips, but Emily was in control, her movements confident, playful. She pulled back, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “Against the wall,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

The farmer obeyed, stepping back until his shoulders hit the rough wooden wall of the farmhouse. Emily was on him in a heartbeat, her hands tugging his trousers down, freeing his aching cock. She wrapped her fingers around him, stroking slowly, teasingly, and he groaned, his head tipping back against the wall. “Emily,” he said, his voice rough, pleading.

“Shh,” she murmured, her lips brushing his ear. “I want you inside me.” She hiked her skirt up again, her legs wrapping around his waist as he lifted her, her back pressing against the wall. The farmer’s hands gripped her thighs, supporting her weight, her warmth pressing against him, slick and inviting. Emily’s arms looped around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair again, pulling his face close.

“Now,” she said, her voice a playful command, her eyes locked on his. The farmer didn’t hesitate, guiding himself to her entrance, pushing into her with a slow, deliberate thrust. Emily’s moan was loud, her head falling back against the wall, her legs tightening around his waist. “Yes,” she gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders. “Harder.”

He obeyed, his hips snapping forward, driving into her with a rhythm that made the wall creak behind them. Emily’s moans filled the room, her body rocking against his, her breasts bouncing with each thrust. The farmer’s hands gripped her thighs tighter, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, the heat of her surrounding him, driving him wild. Emily’s hands roamed his hair, tugging, guiding, her playful dominance never wavering.

“You feel so good,” she purred, her voice breathless but teasing, her legs pulling him closer, deeper. She leaned forward, kissing him hard, her tongue tangling with his, her moans muffled against his lips. The farmer’s thrusts grew faster, more desperate, the sound of their bodies colliding mixing with the crackle of the fire outside. Emily’s fingers tightened in his hair, her body trembling as she neared the edge again.

“Make me come,” she said, her voice a low, commanding whisper, her eyes burning into his. The farmer groaned, his hips moving harder, faster, his cock hitting just the right spot inside her. Emily’s moans grew higher, more frantic, her legs shaking around his waist. With one final, deep thrust, she came, her cry sharp and raw, her body clenching around him, pulling him over the edge with her. He groaned, his release spilling into her, his hands gripping her thighs as they shuddered together, pressed against the wall.

They stayed there, panting, her legs still wrapped around him, her forehead resting against his. Emily’s laugh was soft, breathless, her fingers stroking through his hair gently now. “You’re not bad for a farm boy,” she teased, her voice warm, playful.

He chuckled, his breath ragged, his hands still holding her up. “And you’re trouble,” he said, kissing her softly, tasting the sweat on her lips. “The best kind.”

Emily grinned, unwrapping her legs and sliding down, her feet touching the floor. She tugged him toward the bed, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Rest up,” she said, her voice a playful promise. “We’ve got a long night ahead.”

[pariahofpelicantown]

Filthy Little Vignettes: SDV Edition

(Olivia/Emily/Jodi/M! Farmer)

NSFW: Minors DNI!

A/N: I figured it was about time I started transferring all of my smutty fics from AO3 over here. So…here’s this.

The farmer’s cozy living room was a haven from the winter storm raging outside, the windows fogged with condensation, the hearth crackling with a warm fire that cast flickering golden light over the scene. The air was thick with the scent of mulled wine, wood smoke, and the heady musk of arousal. Plush rugs covered the hardwood floor, and a low coffee table held half-empty glasses and a bottle of Olivia’s favorite vintage. The group had gathered under the pretense of a quiet evening chat, but the tension had built quickly, fueled by shared glances, lingering touches, and the unspoken thrill that bound them.

Olivia sat elegantly on the edge of a velvet armchair, her legs spread wide, her silk blouse unbuttoned to reveal the swell of her full breasts straining against a lace bra. Her skirt was hiked up around her hips, exposing her smooth, toned thighs and the neatly trimmed patch of dark hair above her glistening folds. She held a glass of deep red wine in one manicured hand, swirling it lazily as she took a slow sip, her green eyes half-lidded with pleasure. Emily knelt between her legs, her blue hair tousled, her face buried in Olivia’s pussy, her tongue working with eager, practiced strokes.

“Oh, Emily, darling,” Olivia purred, her voice rich and refined, laced with a moan as she tilted her head back slightly, savoring the wine on her tongue. Emily’s lips were sealed around Olivia’s clit, sucking gently at first, then harder, her tongue flicking rapidly over the swollen nub. Olivia’s free hand tangled in Emily’s hair, guiding her deeper, her hips rocking subtly against the younger woman’s mouth. Wet, slurping sounds filled the air, mingled with Olivia’s soft gasps, her pussy dripping with arousal that coated Emily’s chin and lips. “You’re so good at this… that tongue of yours is sinful.”

Emily hummed in response, the vibration sending a jolt through Olivia’s core, making her thighs quiver. She pulled back just enough to lap at Olivia’s entrance, her tongue delving inside to taste the sweet, tangy slickness, before returning to circle the clit with firm, insistent pressure. Her hands gripped Olivia’s thighs, nails digging in lightly, spreading her wider to expose every inch. Emily’s own body was flushed, her loose tank top riding up to reveal her perky breasts, nipples hard, her shorts damp with her own arousal.

Across the room, on the rug by the fire, the farmer had Jodi bent over on all fours, her hands braced on the floor, her ass high in the air. Her sundress was flipped up over her back, panties discarded somewhere in the shadows, revealing her curvaceous figure—soft hips, full breasts swaying with each movement. The farmer knelt behind her, his strong hands gripping her waist, his cock buried deep inside her tight, wet pussy. He thrust steadily, each plunge eliciting a sharp cry from Jodi, her eyes locked on the scene unfolding in the armchair, watching Emily devour Olivia.

“Fuck, Jodi, you’re so tight,” the farmer groaned, his voice low and rough, his hips slamming forward with a wet smack. His cock was thick, veined, stretching her walls with every inch, the head brushing against her sensitive spots deep inside. Jodi’s pussy clenched around him, slick and hot, her arousal dripping down her thighs as he fucked her relentlessly. He leaned over her, one hand sliding up to cup her breast, pinching her nipple hard enough to make her whimper, the other steadying her hip as he drove deeper.

Jodi’s breath came in ragged pants, her cheeks flushed, her brown hair falling in disarray around her face. “Yes… oh gods, right there,” she moaned, her voice husky, her eyes never leaving Olivia and Emily. The sight of Emily’s tongue lapping at Olivia’s folds, the way Olivia’s body arched in pleasure while casually sipping her wine—it fueled Jodi’s own fire, making her pussy pulse around the farmer’s cock.

“Look at them, Jodi.” The farmer said. “Emily’s eating her like she’s starving.”

Olivia smiled wickedly over the rim of her glass, taking another sip, the wine’s tartness mingling with the taste of her own arousal on the air. “Mmm, she is starving, aren’t you, sweet thing?” she teased, her free hand stroking Emily’s cheek before guiding her back down. Emily nodded eagerly, her mouth returning to Olivia’s clit with renewed vigor, sucking and flicking, her fingers slipping inside Olivia’s pussy to curl against her G-spot. Olivia’s moan was elegant yet raw, her hips bucking as she ground against Emily’s face, her wine glass trembling slightly in her grip. “That’s it… fuck me deeper, Emily. Feel how wet you make me.”

The farmer’s thrusts grew harder, the slap of skin on skin echoing through the room, his balls tightening against Jodi’s ass with each deep plunge. He watched Jodi’s gaze fixed on the women, the way her pussy fluttered around him in response, and it spurred him on. “You like watching them, Jodi?” he growled, his hand leaving her breast to smack her ass lightly, the sound sharp, leaving a pink mark on her pale skin. “Like seeing Emily’s tongue buried in Olivia’s cunt?”

Jodi nodded, pushing back against him, her pussy squeezing his cock like a vice. “Yes… fuck, yes.” Her words dissolved into a moan as the farmer angled his hips, hitting her cervix with a delicious pressure, his cock throbbing inside her. She could feel every ridge, every vein, the way he filled her completely, her juices coating his shaft and dripping down to his balls.

Emily pulled back for a breath, her lips shiny with Olivia’s slickness, strings of arousal connecting her mouth to Olivia’s pussy. “You taste amazing,” she whispered, her voice breathy, before diving back in, her tongue flat and broad as she licked from Olivia’s entrance to her clit in long, slow strokes. Her fingers pumped faster, three now, curling and thrusting, stretching Olivia’s walls, the squelching sounds obscene and intoxicating. Olivia’s thighs clamped around Emily’s head, her breath hitching, but she kept her composure, taking another sip of wine, the liquid spilling slightly over her lip as a moan escaped her.

“Darling, you’re going to make me come,” Olivia warned, her voice trembling, her elegant facade cracking as pleasure built in her core. She set the glass down on the armrest, her hand joining the one in Emily’s hair, holding her in place as she rocked her hips faster. “Don’t stop… suck my clit harder. Yes, like that… fuck, Emily!”

The farmer’s pace quickened, inspired by the women’s escalating moans, his cock pistoning into Jodi’s pussy with brutal force. “You’re soaking me, Jodi,” he grunted, his hand sliding between her legs to rub her clit in rough circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Jodi’s body shook, her arms buckling slightly, her eyes still glued to Olivia’s writhing form.

“Gonna come while watching them? While I fuck this greedy pussy?”

Jodi’s response was a keening wail, her pussy clenching hard as the farmer’s fingers worked her clit, the pressure building to a breaking point. “Yes… oh gods, I’m coming!” Her orgasm hit like a wave, her walls spasming around his cock, milking him as she cried out, her juices squirting slightly against his hand, soaking the rug beneath them.

The sight pushed Olivia over the edge—watching Jodi’s face contort in ecstasy, the farmer’s relentless fucking—her own climax crashing through her, her pussy gushing against Emily’s mouth, her moans sophisticated yet feral.

Emily lapped it all up, her tongue eager, swallowing Olivia’s release as the older woman shuddered, her thighs trembling. “So good… so fucking good,” Emily murmured, her face flushed, her own pussy throbbing with need. She kissed Olivia’s inner thigh, then looked over at Jodi and the farmer, her eyes dark with lust.

The farmer groaned, Jodi’s orgasm pulling him closer, his thrusts erratic now. “Fuck, Jodi… gonna fill you up.” With a final, deep plunge, he came, his cock pulsing as he spilled hot ropes of cum inside her, flooding her pussy, some leaking out around his shaft as he held her tight. Jodi moaned at the sensation, her body still quivering, her eyes meeting Olivia’s in a shared, satisfied glance.

The room fell into a heavy silence, broken only by panting breaths and the fire’s crackle. Olivia picked up her wine glass again, taking a composed sip, a sly smile on her lips as Emily rose to kiss her, sharing the taste of herself. The farmer pulled out slowly, his cum dripping from Jodi’s pussy as he helped her sit up, pulling her into a gentle embrace. The group exchanged glances, the air still charged, the winter night far from over.

[pariahofpelicantown]

Beneath the Zinnia Sky (Jodi x M! Farmer)

A/N: Jodi needs love too, okay??

TW: Mentions of abuse.

The late summer sun hung low over Pelican Town, casting a golden glow across the rolling fields of the farmer’s land. Zinnias bloomed in wild bursts of crimson and violet along the wooden fence, their petals swaying in the warm breeze. Jodi stood at the edge of the plot, her fingers brushing the soft leaves of a melon vine, her auburn hair catching the light like polished copper. She wore a faded green blouse, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and a pair of worn jeans that clung to her hips, clothes chosen for practicality, not to draw attention. But the farmer noticed her. He always did.

He was kneeling a few paces away, his hands buried in the rich soil as he worked to free a stubborn parsnip from the earth. His flannel shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a glimpse of sun-kissed skin, and his dark hair fell messily across his forehead. He hadn’t said much since Jodi arrived, but his presence was steady, grounding, a quiet anchor in the storm that was her life.

“You didn’t have to come out here,” he said finally, his voice low and warm, not looking up from his task. “I know you’ve got enough on your plate.”

Jodi’s lips curved into a small, wistful smile, though her eyes stayed fixed on the melon vine. “I wanted to,” she said softly. “It’s… peaceful here. Feels like I can breathe.”

The farmer paused, brushing dirt from his hands, and glanced at her. He saw the weight she carried; the faint shadows under her eyes, the way her shoulders tensed as if braced for something unseen. He didn’t know the full story of what happened behind the closed doors of her house on Willow Lane, but he’d heard enough. The way Kent’s voice could turn sharp like a blade, the way Jodi’s laughter seemed to dim when he was near. The farmer had seen the bruises once, faint but unmistakable, on her wrist when she’d reached for a basket of strawberries at Pierre’s. She’d tugged her sleeve down quickly, but not before he’d noticed.

He hadn’t asked. Not directly. But he’d made a point to be there—leaving extra tomatoes on her doorstep, inviting her to help with the farm’s harvest, giving her excuses to slip away from home. And Jodi had started coming more often, her visits stretching longer, her smiles lingering a little brighter.

Today, she’d shown up unannounced, her face flushed from the walk, carrying a small jar of homemade jam as an offering. “For your trouble,” she’d said, though they both knew it was just an excuse. Now, as the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of peach and lavender, the air between them felt charged with something unspoken.

“Jodi,” the farmer said, standing and wiping his hands on his jeans. He stepped closer, not crowding her, but near enough that she could feel his warmth. “You don’t have to keep pretending everything’s fine. Not with me.”

Her breath caught, and she turned to face him, her hazel eyes searching his. There was a vulnerability there, raw and unguarded, but also a spark of defiance. “I’m not pretending,” she said, her voice trembling just slightly. “I just… I don’t know how to talk about it. Not yet.”

He nodded, his gaze steady. “You don’t have to. I’m here either way.”

For a moment, they stood there, the world narrowing to the space between them—the hum of crickets, the rustle of leaves, the faint scent of earth and zinnias. Then Jodi reached out, her fingers brushing his hand, tentative at first, then firmer, as if anchoring herself to him. His skin was warm, calloused from work, and the simple touch sent a shiver through her.

“I shouldn’t be here,” she whispered, but she didn’t pull away. “If he knew…”

“He doesn’t,” the farmer said gently. “And even if he did, you deserve to feel safe, Jodi. You deserve more than what you’re getting.”

Her eyes glistened, and she blinked quickly, fighting back the tears. “You make it sound so simple,” she said, a bitter edge to her voice. “It’s not. I’ve got Sam, Vincent… I can’t just—”

“I know,” he interrupted softly, his thumb grazing her knuckles. “I’m not asking you to upend your life. I just want you to know you’ve got someone in your corner. Someone who sees you.”

The words hit her like a wave, unraveling something deep inside. She stepped closer, her free hand resting lightly on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The farmer didn’t move, letting her set the pace, his eyes locked on hers with a quiet intensity that made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t in years.

“Sometimes,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, “I come here and I imagine… what it’d be like. To not be afraid. To not feel like I’m walking on eggshells. To just… be with you.”

His breath hitched, but he kept still, his hand gently covering hers where it rested on his chest. “Jodi,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, “I’d give you that if I could. All of it.”

She leaned in then, closing the distance, her lips brushing his in a kiss that was soft but deliberate, like a confession. He responded carefully, his hands settling on her waist, not pulling but holding, letting her lead. The kiss deepened, warm and unhurried, a quiet promise woven into every touch. She tasted faintly of the jam she’d brought—sweet, tart, and real—and he felt the tension in her slowly melt, her body softening against his.

When they parted, her forehead rested against his, her breath shaky but warm. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted, a small laugh escaping her. “I just know I feel… whole when I’m here.

“You don’t have to figure it all out,” he said, his voice low, his hands steady on her hips. “Just take what you need, Jodi. I’m not going anywhere.”

They moved to the porch of his farmhouse as the sky darkened, the stars beginning to prick through the twilight. He’d lit a small lantern, its golden light spilling across the wooden boards, and they sat close on the steps, shoulders brushing. She told him things she hadn’t said aloud before, how Kent’s anger had grown since he’d returned from the war, how his words cut deeper than his hands ever had, how she stayed for her boys but felt herself fading. The farmer listened, his hand resting lightly on her knee, his silence a kind of strength.

Eventually, words gave way to quiet, and she curled against him, her head on his shoulder, his arm around her. The intimacy wasn’t rushed or hungry. It was tender, deliberate, like the way he tended his crops, giving her space to grow. She traced the lines of his palm, memorizing the roughness, and he pressed a kiss to her temple, soft and lingering.

“I wish I could stay,” she said finally, her voice heavy with the weight of reality.

He squeezed her hand. “You can, whenever you need to. This place, it’s yours too.”

She smiled, bittersweet but genuine, and kissed him again, slower this time, savoring the warmth of his lips, the way his hands cradled her like something precious. When she finally stood to leave, the lantern light caught the curve of her cheek, and he thought she looked stronger, even if just a little.

As she walked back toward town, the zinnias swayed in the night breeze, their colors muted but still vibrant. The farmer watched her go, his heart full and aching, knowing he’d be there tomorrow, and the day after, waiting for her to find her way back.

[multi-fandom-hoebag]

Attention (Haley x F! farmer)

A/N: Requested by an awesome anon who asked for jealous Haley (my favorite pixel wife to write for).

Warnings: None. (For once).

The farmer had been out since sunrise, boots already caked with soil from the fields, hair pulled back and damp with sweat from the early heat. She barely paused when she came through the kitchen, only long enough to rinse her hands and grab a glass of water before heading back outside. Haley sat at the table, chin propped in her palm, eyes following her wife’s back as it disappeared through the door again. The clink of the glass in the sink echoed louder than it should have. Haley hated the way her chest tightened, hated the way it felt like she was competing with dirt and chickens for attention. It was ridiculous, really, but she couldn’t shake the thought that the farmer had forgotten she was even in the house.

By the time the farmer came in again at noon, Haley had already rehearsed at least ten different versions of what she wanted to say. She didn’t start with any of them. Instead, when the farmer leaned against the counter and asked if Haley wanted anything from the market later, Haley let out a sharp laugh.

“Oh, so you do remember I’m here. What an honor.” Her voice dripped with the kind of sarcasm that always made the farmer pause, the kind that stung because it wasn’t entirely a joke. Haley’s arms folded across her chest, nails tapping against her elbows, her gaze steady and unyielding.

“Honestly, I should cover myself in feathers, maybe then you’d notice me.”

The farmer blinked, caught between confusion and guilt, her brow furrowed as if trying to piece together where this had come from. Haley rolled her eyes, pushing back her chair and standing in one fluid motion.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not being dramatic. I married you, not the damn crops. If I wanted to feel invisible, I could’ve stayed in my parents’ house and let them ignore me there.”

Her words came fast, edged with the hurt she’d been holding back all week. The silence that followed felt heavier than any storm cloud, filling the kitchen with something that demanded an answer.

Haley paced across the kitchen, her arms flaring out as though even her body couldn’t hold the frustration in.

“You know what’s funny? Everyone in town thinks you’re this perfect, hardworking saint. Always out there, tending crops, feeding animals, saving the whole valley one turnip at a time. Meanwhile, I’m in here wondering if my wife even remembers what I sound like.” Her laugh was sharp, bitter, but her eyes glistened. She jabbed a finger toward the window, where the fields stretched beyond sight. “Congratulations. You’re officially married to the dirt. Hope it keeps you warm at night.”

The farmer opened her mouth to speak, but Haley cut her off with a raised hand and a shake of her head. “No, don’t you dare tell me ‘it’s just the season’ or ‘it’ll calm down soon.’ I’ve been here through every season, remember? Winter, spring, summer, fall—I’ve memorized them all like clockwork. And you? You treat me like I’m just another part of the background. I could paint my hair green and roll around in compost and maybe, maybe you’d look up for five seconds.” She tilted her head, lips curling in a half-smirk that didn’t reach her eyes.

She crossed her arms again and leaned against the table, her voice lowering, growing steadier. “I didn’t marry you so I could be second place to a crop yield. I didn’t trade in photo shoots and the city and everything else I could’ve had just to sit here and feel like a ghost in my own home. If you want a farmhand, hire one. If you want a wife, maybe you should actually act like you have one.” The words hung in the air, sharp and daring, daring the farmer to prove her wrong.

The farmer finally pushed away from the counter, her jaw tight but her eyes soft, like she was weighing every word before it left her mouth.

“Haley,” she said slowly, “you think I don’t notice you, but I do. Every day. Even when I’m out there, I’m thinking about you. About this house, about us. I work the way I do because I want you to have more than the life you left behind. I don’t want you ever regretting choosing me.” She took a step closer, boots heavy on the floorboards, but her voice gentled. “You are not invisible. You’re the reason I’m doing all of this.”

Haley scoffed, flicking her hair over her shoulder like his explanation was nothing more than dust in the wind.

“Wow, how romantic. I’m the reason you’re married to the hoe and the watering can. Truly, I’m swooning.” Her hands flew up theatrically before she dropped them with a sigh. “You don’t get it. I didn’t marry you for the farm. I married you for you. And lately, all I get are glimpses of that woman between hauling buckets and falling into bed half-asleep.” Her eyes narrowed, the bite of her words softened only by the crack of hurt hiding underneath.

The farmer’s brows drew together as she leaned her weight against the table opposite Haley. “You think I don’t want that too? To just stop, to sit with you, to… breathe? But if I let it all go, the farm doesn’t run. And if the farm doesn’t run, then we don’t have anything. I thought you understood that when you chose to be here with me. I thought you saw that I’m trying to build something for us.” Her hand hovered on the wood, as if reaching for Haley but not daring to bridge the space just yet.

The farmer finally closed the gap, her hand rising to rest lightly against Haley’s arm before tugging her close. Haley resisted for half a heartbeat, her body still stiff with pride, but then she allowed herself to be drawn in, her cheek brushing the rough fabric of the farmer’s shirt. A kiss landed softly on her temple, warm and steady, the kind of gesture that carried more weight than any rushed excuse.

“I’m sorry,” the farmer whispered, her voice rougher now, thick with sincerity. “You’re not second to anything out there. You’re the reason I wake up every morning and push myself until there’s nothing left. You are my home, Haley. You’re what makes all of it matter.”

For a moment Haley stood very still, her breath caught somewhere between indignation and relief. Slowly, she let her hands slide around the farmer’s waist, resting against her back.

“You always know how to ruin a perfectly good rant,” she muttered, though the words were softened by the way she leaned into her wife’s chest. Her sass had dulled to embers, still glowing but not burning as hot, and beneath it was the tender truth she couldn’t deny. Giving in felt less like surrender and more like choosing, like remembering what she wanted most in the first place.

The farmer pulled back just enough to look at her, brushing a strand of blonde hair from her face with careful fingers. “Let me shower,” she said, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Then the rest of the day is yours. Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it.”

Haley searched her eyes, waiting for some crack of insincerity, but found none. Her expression softened fully then, her smile small but real. “I don’t care what we do,” she said quietly. “I just want to be with you.” The words landed between them like a vow, simple and unadorned, and for once Haley didn’t try to cover them with sarcasm.

And so, after the farmer’s shower washed away the morning’s strain, the two of them spent the rest of the day not in the fields, not among the crops, but side by side in the quiet rhythms of their home. They shared coffee on the porch, Haley’s head resting on her wife’s shoulder as the sun warmed their skin, and later wandered lazily through the orchard with no destination in mind. There were no grand gestures, no elaborate plans, only the steady comfort of presence—the farmer’s hand in Haley’s, the kind of attention that spoke louder than any chore left undone. By evening, the sharp edges of jealousy had softened into something gentler, and Haley, with her usual sass mellowed into contentment, finally felt like she had what she wanted most: not the farmer’s time, but her heart, fully and without distraction.

[multi-fandom-hoebag]

Beneath the Valley Sky: Chapter 1

(Haley x F! Farmer)

Summary: She never expected the farmer to matter.

Stardew Valley was quiet, predictable. Haley knew its corners, its faces, its small certainties.

But Hunter carried something different into town — not a storm, not a fire, but something steadier. Something like dawn light spilling through an old window, slow and sure and impossible to ignore.

Hearts don’t grow on command. But they grow, just the same.

And Haley finds herself leaning toward the light, without ever meaning to.

Chapter Summary: There’s a difference between surviving and living. Hunter came here to learn which one she’s still doing.

The road into Stardew Valley was not paved so much as it was remembered. Dirt packed hard beneath summer’s retreating warmth, loose stones and curling brambles edging along like old scars that refused to fade. Beneath Hunter’s boots, the ground felt solid, familiar in a way that made her heart ache and her breath catch tight in her chest. She had not expected this, not truly. She thought the ache of leaving behind her old life would have dulled by now, filed down by the slow miles of travel, by the weight of loneliness that had settled so comfortably at her side like an unwelcome passenger. But it had not. If anything, it had sharpened into a fine point, needling at her ribs with every step closer to the place that was meant to be a beginning, though it felt dangerously like an end.

She adjusted the strap of her pack higher on her shoulder, the leather cracked and worn from years of use, much like the farmer herself. She was not yet thirty, though her reflection in the train’s window earlier that morning had made her wonder if the years had slipped past unnoticed, stealing softness from her features and replacing it with the quiet, carved look of someone who had already fought too many battles just to stay standing. Dark hair, tangled and damp from the mist that clung stubbornly to the valley’s lip, framed her face in loose waves, and her eyes—green, sharp, wary—scanned the horizon with the restless precision of someone who had learned not to trust beauty at first glance.

Because Stardew Valley was beautiful. Achingly so.

The fields sprawled out in soft undulations, gold-tipped grasses rippling beneath the kiss of a lazy breeze, while wildflowers—bursts of violet, white, and amber—pushed their way through the forgotten corners, defiantly alive. Beyond them, dense woods pressed close, the dark green of pines and the honey-bronze of maples tangled together beneath the wide sweep of sky. Autumn hovered just at the edge of the season, not yet settled but promised in every crisp breath of wind that carried the scent of earth and leaves turned sweet beneath the sun.

Hunter let her gaze drift toward the rise in the east, where the town sat cradled between gentle slopes, its rooftops peeking through the treetops like secrets half-spoken. She could just make out the curved sign of Pierre’s General Store, the scalloped awning of the saloon beside it, and further still, the old clock tower rising above the community center, stoic and tired beneath a veil of ivy.

A place caught between time and memory.

She had grown up on stories of Stardew Valley, though never once had she thought her feet would carry her here, not like this. Her grandfather’s letters had painted it as a refuge, a world apart from the noise and rush of the cities, a patch of earth where life was still lived slowly, tenderly, like turning pages in a book read aloud beneath a quilt. He had written of mornings spent watching fog lift off the fields, of afternoons thick with the hum of bees working the orchards, of nights where the sky split open in a tapestry of stars so bright it seemed they could catch fire and fall to earth.

What he had not written about, she suspected, were the silences that followed. The quiet left behind when voices faded and laughter died down to echoes.

Her throat tightened, and she pushed the thought away like she had so many others, burying it beneath the resolve that had carried her through so many uncertain years. She had come here to plant roots, to find a steadiness she had not known in too long. If the soil would have her, she would give herself to it fully, body and spirit alike.

As she crested the final hill before the farm, the land unfolded at her feet in a rough sprawl of wild growth and ruin.

Her breath caught—not in disappointment, but in grim recognition.

This, too, her grandfather had not written about.

The fences were splintered, leaning at odd angles like old men who had lost the strength to stand upright. Brambles as thick as rope snaked through the fields, choking what little had once grown beneath their greedy tangle. The farmhouse itself sat hunched beneath the weight of time and weather, its roof patchy with lichen and its windows dimmed by grime. A crow called from the porch rail, sharp and accusing, before flapping away into the sky with a beat of wings that stirred the dust at her feet.

Hunter let out a slow breath and set down her pack.

The weight lifted from her shoulders but not from her chest.

“This is home now,” she said aloud, her voice rasping against the hush of the valley, and for a moment, she almost believed it.

Almost.

The hours that followed blurred into rhythm, into ache and sweat and breath pulled sharp between her teeth. She worked without thinking, without letting herself pause long enough to feel the creeping doubt that licked at the edges of her resolve. Fallen branches were dragged into piles near the barn’s skeleton frame. Stones, cold and stubborn in the soil, were pried loose with numbed fingers and set aside in rough stacks. The farmhouse door shrieked on rusted hinges when she forced it open, dust billowing in a soft cloud that caught the light like ghosts startled from sleep.

Inside, the air was thick with disuse, but beneath it all, she could smell the faintest trace of cedar, of old wood warmed by sun, of something that might one day be comfort.

She did not expect the knock at the door.

It came soft at first, then firmer, the rap of knuckles against weathered wood pulling her from her thoughts like a tug on a snared line. She crossed the small room in three strides and pulled the door wide, squinting against the sharp light.

A man stood there, tall and broad in the shoulders, his face open but wary beneath the brim of a battered cap. He held himself like someone used to hard work, though not immune to surprise, and when his gaze met hers, there was something in it that flickered—curiosity, perhaps, or something older, something like recognition.

“You must be Hunter,” he said, his voice edged with the gravel of long days and longer nights. “I’m Lewis. Mayor of Pelican Town.”

Her nod came without hesitation, though her muscles tensed beneath the surface. “That’s me,” she confirmed, keeping her tone even, measured.

He offered a small, weathered smile. “Your grandfather was well-liked here. He spoke of you often, before he passed.”

Something sharp twisted in her chest, but she kept it buried. “He wrote plenty about this place,” she managed, her throat tight. “I’m hoping to do it justice.”

Lewis’s gaze softened, and he stepped back from the threshold, giving her space to breathe. “If you’ve got the heart for it, the valley will meet you halfway,” he said, and there was something in the way he spoke that told her he believed it—had to believe it. “We’re a small town, but we take care of our own. If you need supplies, come by Pierre’s. He’ll set you right. And if you’re ever looking to meet folks… well, the saloon’s open most evenings.”

Hunter let her eyes flick toward the distant cluster of buildings, the notion of strangers crowding her edges tight with unease. She was not ready for that, not yet.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” she said, and if Lewis heard the hesitation in her voice, he did not press it.

“Good,” he said simply, then tipped the brim of his cap and turned back toward the winding road. “Welcome to Stardew Valley, Hunter.”

She watched him go until the path swallowed him whole, then stepped back inside the farmhouse, closing the door behind her with a quiet click that felt heavier than it should.

Evening unfurled slow and amber across the sky as she settled onto the front steps, her arms draped over her knees, her breath steady but shallow in her chest. She could feel the weight of the day in her bones, in the throb of her palms where blisters threatened to bloom beneath the skin. The valley breathed around her, alive with the rustle of wind through grass and the low murmur of the river as it curled through the heart of the land.

For the first time since her arrival, she let herself believe, just a little, that this place could be more than ruin and memory.

That maybe, just maybe, there was a future to be carved from the wreckage.

As the first stars bloomed in the darkening sky, Hunter lifted her gaze to meet them, the chill of the coming night brushing her skin like a whisper.

She did not know what tomorrow would bring, but she would meet it with her hands in the earth, her heart braced for the fight, and her spirit bent not toward survival alone, but something fuller, something real.

Something like living.

[multi-fandom-hoebag]

The Last Light of Summer

(Haley x Farmer)

Summary: Haley never expected to love the farmer, but they were the only one who ever saw past her walls and stayed. In the quiet ache of illness and inevitable loss, she holds on as tightly as she can, watching helplessly as the person she built her heart around fades from her arms. Love, it turns out, isn’t enough to stop the end—but she stays until their last breath, because it’s all she has left to give.

TW: Grief, loss, major character death.

It had started so slowly that Haley, in her reckless optimism, had almost convinced herself it was nothing at all.

The farmer had always been tireless, rising with the dawn, hands thick with calluses and strength, shoulders tanned by the sun and streaked with the dust of their labor. They had seemed inexhaustible, an endless reservoir of energy and stubborn will, as if the earth itself had chosen them to nurture it. She had loved them for that — for their persistence, their quiet steadiness in a world that always felt too sharp and fast for her.

And for the way they had seen her.

Long before illness, long before frailty had crept into their bones, they had been the only one who ever truly looked past her polished veneer, past the pretty smiles and carefully arranged photographs and shallow conversations that never dared to dig too deep. While the others in town had dismissed her as vain, hollow, a spoiled girl clinging to beauty as if it were the only currency she possessed, the farmer had been patient, chipping away at her defenses not with force but with quiet, consistent care. They had found her in the hollow places where she had buried her fears and brushed the dust away gently, never once mocking the emptiness they uncovered.

She had hated them for it at first.

Then she had loved them for it with a ferocity that frightened her.

And now, she was losing them.

It began with little things — an ache in their joints that lingered longer than it should have, a shortness of breath after climbing the hill to the west field, a tiredness in their eyes that no amount of sleep seemed to erase. They had shrugged it off, had smiled that easy, infuriatingly calm smile and told her not to fuss, but she saw it. She saw it in the way they hesitated before lifting the heavy crates of produce, in the way their hands sometimes trembled when they thought she wasn’t looking.

When the diagnosis came, it did not come as a surprise, but that made it no easier to bear.

Haley had sat in the clinic beside them, her fingers laced tightly in theirs as Harvey delivered the words that stole the breath from her chest. Terminal.

No cure.

Time — measured in seasons, not years.

She had wanted to scream, to tear the walls down brick by brick and demand a different answer, a different fate, but all she could do was sit there, her nails digging into the farmer’s skin as if her grip alone could tether them to the earth. The farmer, ever calm, had only squeezed her hand in return, as if they were the one offering comfort when it should have been the other way around.

From that moment, the seasons seemed to pass too quickly, as if the sun itself was eager to outrun them.

Summer faded into autumn, and the farmer’s strength withered with the leaves. Tasks that had once been effortless now left them breathless and pale, and Haley found herself taking on more and more of the burden, her delicate hands blistering from work she had never thought herself capable of. She did it without complaint, though, because if she stopped, even for a moment, the weight of what was happening would crush her beneath its certainty.

She did it because she loved them.

Winter came early that year, harsh winds carving through the valley and rattling the windows of their home. The farmer, wrapped in blankets by the fire, grew thinner with each passing day, their skin pale beneath the flickering lamplight. Their voice, once so strong and steady, had grown soft, frayed at the edges like fabric worn thin by too much use. They spoke less, but when they did, their words were always for her — gentle reassurances, small jokes meant to coax a smile from her lips, quiet declarations of love that broke her heart anew each time they were spoken.

Haley tried to hold herself together, tried to be the pillar they needed, but there were nights when she slipped away to the far corner of the house, pressing her fists to her mouth to stifle the sobs that clawed their way up her throat. She could not let them see her break. She had promised herself that much.

But now, as she knelt beside their bed, her hands trembling as they cupped the farmer’s fragile face, she felt the cracks splitting wide open.

Their breathing had grown shallow, ragged, a thin thread fraying beneath the weight of the inevitable. Sweat beaded on their brow despite the cold, and their eyes, once so clear and full of quiet determination, flickered with a distant glaze, as though they were already slipping beyond her reach.

“Stay with me,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, raw from the tears she had shed in secret. “Please… just a little longer.”

The farmer’s lips parted, a faint smile ghosting across them as they looked at her, truly looked at her, with the same unwavering affection that had unraveled her defenses all those seasons ago. Their hand, thin and shaking, lifted from the blankets to brush her cheek, their thumb tracing the path of her tears with excruciating tenderness.

“I’m still here,” they breathed, their voice barely more than a sigh of wind through brittle leaves. “I’m here… Haley.”

Her name, spoken like a prayer, like a farewell wrapped in love and regret.

She held them tighter, as if she could anchor them to the earth with the strength of her embrace alone. She pressed her forehead to theirs, her tears spilling freely now, dampening their skin as she whispered every promise she could think of, every word of love she had ever wanted to say, every desperate plea for time she knew the universe would not grant her.

Their breath hitched once, twice, then faltered.

She felt it happen — the precise moment when their chest, so frail beneath her trembling hands, rose for the last time and did not fall again. She felt it like a thread snapping in her own chest, a sharp, unbearable absence where their life had once been, and as the silence closed in around her, she pressed her lips to their temple and held them as tightly as she could, as if by sheer force of will she could deny the truth settling over them like a final, merciless frost.

Outside, the wind moved through the bare branches of the orchard, rustling what few withered leaves remained, and within the quiet of the farmhouse, Haley wept for the love she had found too late to keep, and the life that had slipped from her arms as surely as the seasons slipped away from them both.

[multi-fandom-hoebag]

M! Farmer x Haley x Leah (NSFW)

(Minors DNI!!!)

A/N: This is pure filth. It's a chapter in an actual story I am writing but...I'll post is as a standalone here....because I'm sure someone who is just as depraved as me will enjoy this....

The knock at the door came just after sundown, sharp and deliberate. The farmer glanced up from his chair, set his book aside, and moved to answer. He wasn’t expecting visitors.

When he opened the door, Haley stood on the porch with Leah beside her, both bundled against the chill. Haley’s eyes sparkled with a kind of mischief he recognized immediately. Leah stood just behind her, lips slightly parted like she might say something but decided to wait.

“Hey,” the farmer said with a raised brow, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Didn’t expect company.”

Haley gave him a playful look as she stepped inside, slipping her coat off and tossing it over the nearest chair. “Yeah, well, we were in the mood for a visit.”

Leah followed her in with a small smile, closing the door behind them. “A specific kind of visit.”

The farmer tilted his head, clearly intrigued. “That right?”

Haley stepped in closer, just enough to brush against him. “Let’s just say... you’ve built yourself a bit of a reputation lately.”

Leah wandered over to the fireplace. “We’re not here for small talk,” she said, her voice soft but direct.

Haley’s eyes met his, bold and unflinching. “I want to see what all the fuss is about.”

There was no confusion. No need for further explanation.

The farmer’s eyes lingered on Haley as she turned and headed toward the bedroom, already lifting the hem of her dress. She tossed a look over her shoulder, lips curled in anticipation. “Coming?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

By the time he reached her, she was reclining on the edge of the bed, legs parted, dress bunched around her waist, no underwear in sight. Her skin was flushed, her breathing shallow—not from nerves, but excitement.

Dropping to his knees, he gripped her thighs firmly and dove in without hesitation. His mouth found her center, hot and slick, and he moaned softly into her as he tasted her. His tongue began to work her with focused intensity—lapping slow at first, then plunging inside her, deep and deliberate.

Haley gasped, her head falling back as her hips bucked up to meet him.

“Fuck—yes, like that,” she groaned, fingers tangling in his hair.

Across the room, Leah had already slipped a hand beneath her jeans. Her other arm draped over the back of the chair, legs spread, her fingers working her slick folds without shame. She watched the farmer’s mouth move between Haley’s thighs, eyes locked on the wet mess he was making of her friend, her own pleasure climbing with every sound Haley made.

He pulled Haley closer, burying his face deeper, tongue thrusting in and out with wet, obscene sounds echoing off the walls. Every stroke was hungry, primal, his mouth working her relentlessly. He alternated between slow, thick licks and rapid flicks against her clit, making her cry out and writhe beneath him.

Saliva mixed with her arousal, dripping down his chin as he sucked and licked with abandon, slurping sounds filling the room.

Haley’s thighs began to tremble, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

“God—you’re gonna make me—” Her voice broke into a sharp moan as his tongue drove into her again, fast and unforgiving, hitting every sensitive spot until her whole body locked up.

She came hard, grinding into his mouth as a mess of slick release coated his tongue. But he didn’t stop. He lapped it up eagerly, devouring every drop as her cries grew ragged, desperate.

Across the room, Leah watched with wide eyes, one hand working frantically between her legs, the other clenched tight in the arm of the chair.

Haley sagged against the mattress, panting, spent—completely wrecked.

Leah moaned from across the room, watching his tongue clean every drop from Haley’s shaking body. Her fingers moved faster between her thighs, eyes blazing with want.

Haley was still catching her breath, legs trembling and skin flushed, when she turned her head toward Leah, who was panting softly in the chair, her hand still buried between her thighs.

Haley glanced over at Leah, breath still uneven, her lips curling into a slow, wicked smile.

“I want to see him fuck you,” she said, voice low, still thick with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Leah raised her brows, caught off guard—but only for a second. “Yeah?”

Haley nodded, standing and stretching slightly before making her way across the room. “I want to see your face while he’s inside you.”

Leah let out a short laugh, the heat in her eyes building fast. “You sure you can handle watching?”

Haley gave her a look. “Why don’t you find out?”

Leah didn’t wait. She stepped towards the bed, hands already working open the button of her jeans as she walked toward the farmer. “Alright then,” she said, her voice dipping into something darker. “Let’s give her a good show.”

She stepped out of her clothes slowly, piece by piece, eyes locked on the farmer. Then she turned to him and arched an eyebrow. “Your turn.”

Haley didn’t waste time—she reached for his belt with practiced ease, unfastening it while meeting his eyes with a wicked grin. Leah stepped in beside her, pulling his shirt up and over his head, fingers brushing along his skin as they worked together, undressing him like he was some long-awaited gift.

The second his clothes hit the floor, both women took a beat—just standing there, taking him in.

“Jesus,” Leah muttered, her tone half awe, half hunger.

Haley let out a breathy laugh, biting her bottom lip as her gaze swept down his body. “Guess the rumors didn’t do you justice.”

Leah backed toward the bed, completely nude now, her skin glowing in the low light. She crawled onto the mattress, laying back with a teasing smirk, legs slowly parting as she looked him over again.

“Well?” she said, voice low and inviting. “What are you waiting for?”

The farmer moved toward her, but she stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“No teasing,” she said, breath catching, voice darker now. “I want it hard. Rough. Fast. I want bruises. I want to feel it tomorrow.”

His gaze sharpened, and he grabbed her hips, yanking her down toward him in one smooth pull. Leah let out a short, shocked breath—followed by a moan as he thrust into her hard and deep in one motion.

She arched into it, already panting, her legs wrapping around him as he began to move—fast, forceful, relentless. The sound of skin against skin filled the room as Leah cried out beneath him, nails raking down his back, head thrown back in ecstasy.

Across the room, Haley settled into the chair Leah had just occupied, legs spread, one hand slipping between them as she touched herself again. Her other hand gripped the armrest tightly as she watched, transfixed by the way Leah took every rough thrust with eager, desperate moans.

“Fuck,” Haley whispered, watching them. “That’s so fucking hot.”

The bed creaked beneath them, the pace primal and unrelenting, Leah’s body jolting with every deep thrust, her fingers digging into the sheets. She grinned through her moans, loving every second of it—exactly what she asked for.

Haley couldn’t sit still any longer. The sight of Leah writhing beneath the farmer, her legs hanging off the edge of the bed, being taken deep and hard with every thrust, was too much. Her own fingers weren’t enough anymore.

Without a word, she climbed onto the bed beside them, eyes fixed on Leah’s flushed, parted lips, her moans rising with each pounding movement of the farmer above her. Haley crawled higher, straddling Leah’s face and lowering herself down with a slow, deliberate grind.

“You’ve got a mouth,” Haley breathed, her voice a throaty whisper. “Use it.”

Leah welcomed her eagerly, tongue slipping between Haley’s slick folds, moaning into her as the farmer continued to drive into her from above, holding her thighs tightly as they dangled over the edge of the bed. His body was flush against hers, chest to chest, their breath mixing as he thrust harder, deeper, Leah’s cries muffled beneath Haley’s weight.

Haley braced herself with one hand on Leah’s stomach and leaned forward, the movement bringing her face inches from the farmer’s.

She caught his mouth in a rough, heated kiss, tasting only Haley—salty and sweet, breathless and wild. He groaned into her mouth, his pace quickening between Leah’s thighs, the bed creaking with each powerful thrust.

Their mouths broke apart only so Haley could gasp, grinding harder against Leah’s mouth. Leah, pinned between both bodies, took every sensation—Haley above, the farmer inside—her moans vibrating against Haley’s core, her hands clutching at sheets and skin in frantic rhythm.

The three of them moved together—wet, slick, breathless—tangled in heat and want and the rising crest of something that none of them wanted to end.

The rhythm between them built faster—stronger—until all three bodies trembled with the weight of what was coming.

The farmer's breath grew ragged, sweat slicking his back as he thrust into Leah with fierce urgency, her moans rising beneath him. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, legs locked around his waist, pulling him deeper.

Haley rocked harder against Leah’s mouth, gripping her hair and riding her face with abandon, gasping sharply as her release began to crest. The farmer felt it too—the tightening of Leah’s thighs, the way her entire body tensed beneath him.

With a strangled groan, he pulled out at the last moment, stroking himself fast, barely holding on.

Leah arched off the bed with a scream, her climax hitting with a force that shocked them all. She squirted hard, a sudden wet rush splashing across her thighs and the sheets as her body convulsed under the pressure. Her moans were frantic and breathless, overwhelmed by the release crashing through her.

Haley cried out above her at the same time, thighs clamping tight around Leah’s face as her own orgasm tore through her, grinding down against Leah’s tongue as she came.

The farmer came with a deep groan, spilling thick across Leah’s breasts in heavy, pulsing streams just as she writhed beneath him, covered in her own mess and his.

For a long moment, the only sound was the ragged echo of breath, the three of them collapsing into the warmth of tangled sheets and each other.

Spent. Satisfied. Still trembling.

[multi-fandom-hoebag]

What He Can’t Have (Emily x M! farmer)

Emily puts on a show and makes Clint watch what he can never have.

Explicit content! Minors DNI!

The farmhouse kitchen was a haze of heat and dim lamplight, the table shoved aside as the Farmer pinned Emily against the counter. Her red skirt was bunched up around her waist, turquoise hair spilling over her shoulders, wild from his hands running through it. They’d been dancing around this for weeks—her teasing smiles at the saloon finally snapping into something raw—and now she was pressed against him, her legs hooked around his hips, grinding into the hardness tenting his jeans.

His shirt was gone, tossed somewhere near the stove, and her fingers clawed at his back, leaving red trails as she kissed him fiercely, all wet heat and needy moans. He gripped her thighs, spreading her wider, his hands slipping under her skirt to find the damp edge of her panties, tugging them aside. She gasped, loud and unrestrained, as his fingers brushed her, her hips bucking against him, chasing more.

Outside, Clint lurked by the cracked window, his breath shallow, his calloused hand already down his pants. He’d trailed her from town, a hopeless shadow, and now he watched, stroking himself as Emily’s skirt rode higher, her bare skin gleaming in the low light. His quiet groans were muffled by the night, his eyes glued to her, aching with a want he’d never touch.

Emily’s head tilted, catching the glint of Clint’s stare through the glass, and a sly, wicked grin spread across her lips. “He’s watching,” she purred, her voice husky as she nipped the Farmer’s jaw, her hands sliding down his chest. “Clint’s out there, getting off to us.”

The Farmer stiffened, glancing toward the window, his hands pausing. “I’ll run him off—”

“No,” she cut in, her grip tightening on his arms, pulling him back to her. “Let him see what he’s missing—let him drool over what he’ll never get.” She slid off the counter, dropping to her knees in front of him, her fingers quick as she unzipped his jeans, freeing his cock—rigid, throbbing, slick at the tip.

She took him in her mouth, slow at first, lips stretching around him as she sucked, her tongue flicking over the head. He groaned, hands bracing on the counter as she worked him, her head bobbing, wet and sloppy. Every few sucks, she’d glance at the window, meeting Clint’s desperate eyes, her smirk flashing as she deep-throated the Farmer, gagging slightly for effect.

Clint’s hand pumped faster, his face twisted with longing as she pulled back to lick the Farmer’s shaft, long and deliberate, her spit shining in the lamplight. She’d catch Clint’s gaze again, smirking wider, then dive back in, sucking hard, her cheeks hollowing as she took him deeper. The Farmer’s hips jerked, his moans filling the room, and she hummed around him, the sound vibrating through him, pushing him closer.

Her eyes flicked to Clint once more, taunting, triumphant, as she sped up, her hands squeezing the Farmer’s thighs, urging him on. Clint’s strokes grew frantic, his breath fogging the glass, his pitiful whimpers a stark contrast to the Farmer’s ragged groans. She sucked harder, tongue swirling, and the Farmer came with a shuddering growl, spilling into her mouth, hot and thick. She swallowed it down, pulling off with a slow lick of her lips, her smirk aimed squarely at Clint as he finished outside, alone and trembling, a sad shadow of what she’d just claimed.

She stood, pressing herself against the Farmer, kissing him with a smug edge, letting Clint’s defeat hang heavy in the air as he slinked away, empty-handed.

[multi-fandom-hoebag]

The Farmer and The Carpenter

(Robin x M! Farmer)

Don’t lie we’ve all thought about it

A/N: Super explicit! Minors DNI!

Robin had suffered through months of Demetrius’ pathetic attempts at sex—weak, rushed, and leaving her cold—until the Farmer began sneaking into her workshop, satisfying her like her husband never could. Now, late afternoon light gilded the workbench as she climbed onto it, flannel unbuttoned, auburn hair a wild cascade. She’d summoned him, her body pulsing with need, and he strode in, field-dirtied and broad-shouldered, eyes fixed on her with intent.

She spread her thighs, pulling him close by his shirt, and he dropped to his knees, yanking her jeans and panties off in one rough tug. Her scent enveloped him, rich and intoxicating, and he groaned, parting her with firm hands. His tongue swept over her, slow and deep, tasting her slickness, and she moaned, fingers knotting in his hair as her hips rocked up. He sucked her clit hard, tongue flicking relentlessly, and her thighs shook, clamping around his head. The workbench creaked as he plunged deeper, lapping inside her, then back to her clit, driving her wild.

Her first orgasm hit fast, a sharp cry breaking free as her body tensed, pleasure surging through her. He kept going, licking her through the waves, then dove back in, sucking her swollen clit ‘til she writhed, breathless and needy. Sweat slicked her skin, her chest heaving as he slipped fingers inside, curling them while his mouth worked her, wet and urgent. Her second climax slammed into her, harder, her hips bucking as she soaked his face, trembling against the wood.

He barely paused, just a quick breath before returning, tongue tracing slow circles, building her up again. Her nails scraped the bench, moans ragged as he sucked harder, fingers pumping, and her third orgasm rolled through her, deep and shattering, leaving her limp, panting, and glowing.

He rose, lips glistening, and without a word, pulled her to the edge of the bench, flipping her over so her stomach pressed into the wood, ass up. She braced herself, thighs still quaking, as he unzipped, freeing his cock—thick, rigid, dripping with want. He rubbed it against her, slick from his mouth and her releases, then thrust in deep, filling her completely. She gasped, the stretch overwhelming, and he didn’t hold back—his hips snapped forward, pounding into her with a force that rocked the bench, tools clattering to the floor.

Her hands gripped the edge, knuckles white as he fucked her senseless, each thrust slamming deeper, hitting every spot Demetrius couldn’t dream of reaching. Sweat dripped from his brow, mingling with hers, the air thick with the slap of skin and her broken moans. He gripped her hips, pulling her back to meet him, his pace brutal, relentless, driving her toward another edge. Her body tightened, oversensitive but greedy, and she shuddered, a fourth orgasm ripping through her, her walls clenching around him as she cried out.

He groaned, low and guttural, his thrusts turning erratic as he chased his own release, burying himself to the hilt. He came hard, spilling hot and thick inside her, his cock pulsing with every wave, filling her ‘til she felt it leak down her thighs. She collapsed forward, breathless, the workbench cool against her cheek, her body wrecked and sated in a way Demetrius could never manage.

He stayed inside her a moment, softening, then pulled out, leaving her dripping and trembling. She turned her head, catching his smug grin as he wiped sweat from his face, her silent victory over her husband’s failures etched in every aching muscle.

[multi-fandom-hoebag]

Don’t talk (M! farmer x Emily)

A/N: Highly explicit. Minors DNI!

She slammed the door with her hip, dropped her bag to the floor, and didn’t stop walking until she was right in front of him.

Her blouse was half unbuttoned. Her lipstick smudged. Hair a mess. There was fury in her eyes—but beneath it, something sharper.

“Don’t ask me how my day was,” she said, voice low. “I will break something.”

He didn’t move, didn’t speak.

Emily reached for his belt.

“I don’t need a slow night. I don’t want your tenderness. I want you to fuck me until my legs give out. Until I forget everything.”

The buckle clinked open.

“I want it fast. I want it filthy. And I want you to follow orders. Can you handle that?”

He nodded, breathless. “Yeah.”

She turned, walking upstairs like she hadn’t just set him on fire. At the top of the stairs, she called out without looking back.

“Bedroom. Now. And leave the lights on. I want to see everything.”

By the time he reached her, she was bent over the bed, hands braced against the mattress, hair spilling forward as she met her own gaze in the mirror across the room.

“Take your time getting inside me,” she said, voice tighter now. “But when you start—don’t stop. I want to feel every fucking inch.”

He stepped behind her, dragged her panties down slowly, trembling with how badly he wanted to lose control—but she held it. All of it.

When he entered her, her back arched instantly. Her mouth dropped open. She stared at her reflection as her body adjusted around him and took it.

“That’s it,” she gasped. “Right there. Now ruin me.”

He snapped his hips into her—again, again, harder each time—and she moaned, knuckles going white on the sheets. The mirror showed everything: her open mouth, the swing of her body, the sweat starting to roll down her spine.

He leaned forward, breath hot against her ear.

“You feel—fuck, Emily—you feel unreal—”

“Don’t talk,” she cut in, voice sharp. “Just fuck.”

He did.

The rhythm got filthy. Unrelenting. Her reflection grew messier by the second, eyes going glassy, jaw slack as she watched herself take it.

And when his breath hitched—when she felt his rhythm start to stutter, hips bucking harder, grip tightening—she gave him the final blow.

“Come inside me.”

He froze mid-thrust.

“What?”

She looked him straight in the eye through the mirror, voice soft now. Commanding. Intimate.

“You heard me. I want to feel you fill me up. I want it dripping down my thighs when we’re done.”

That shattered him.

He drove into her one last time and came, hard, body convulsing, a groan tearing from his chest as he emptied himself into her—deep, full, undone.

She gasped at the feeling, biting her lip as she locked eyes with herself in the mirror—wrecked, wild, and full.

“Good boy,” she whispered.

And then—quietly, sweetly cruel—

“Now pull out. I want to see the mess.”

[multi-fandom-hoebag]

Ride (Leah x F! farmer)

A/N: Explicit. Minors DNI

Their thighs were already slick when the farmer grabbed Leah’s hips and pulled her in.

No words.

Just the sound of skin meeting skin—wet and perfect, their centers sliding together in one long, aching grind. Leah let out a gasp, forehead pressing to the farmer’s.

“You feel that?” she whispered. “We’re already so fucking soaked.”

“Keep going,” the farmer breathed. “Just like that. Don’t stop.”

They were tangled on the floor by the fireplace, bodies slick with sweat and arousal, straddling each other’s thighs, grinding center to center with no space, no shame—just the slippery drag of clit against clit, folds against folds.

Leah’s nails raked down the farmer’s back as she rocked forward again, harder this time. “Gods—fuck—you’re soaked for me.”

“You’re dripping on me,” the farmer moaned, her voice already wrecked. “I can feel it every time you move.”

Their rhythm turned frantic—hips snapping, desperate to keep that wet slide going, thighs trembling as their slick bodies dragged over each other with every thrust.

“You close?” Leah gasped, grabbing her jaw. “You gonna come with me?”

The farmer nodded, barely holding on. “I wanna come on your clit—I wanna rub all over you and just fucking lose it—”

“Then do it,” Leah groaned. “Fucking grind on me. Come for me.”

Their hips moved faster now, no rhythm, just friction—wet and raw and loud. The sound of it was filthy. Every stroke left their thighs shinier, wetter, and the bed under them completely ruined.

The farmer let out a sharp cry, her whole body locking up. “Leah— I’m—”

“Come on me,” Leah whispered, forehead pressed to hers. “Rub that messy pussy all over mine until you fucking scream.”

And she did.

She came hard, grinding through it, clit pressed to Leah’s, moaning loud, her body shaking against her—

And Leah followed, gasping, choking on it, coming with her, so wet they could barely feel where one of them ended and the other began.

They stayed like that—grinding through the aftershocks, soaked and panting, foreheads touching, breathing into each other’s mouths.

“I felt all of it,” Leah whispered. “You’re a mess.”

The farmer smirked, eyes half-lidded. “You love it.”

“I do.”

She rocked forward once more—slow, deliberate.

“And I’m not done with you yet.”

[pariahofpelicantown]

Rain Soaked Apologies (Haley x GN! Farmer)

Summary: Haley spends a lonely night feeling alone and reflecting on her behavior towards the farmer, only to find they are there when she needs them most.

The rain lashed fiercely against the bedroom window, creating a ceaseless and unyielding pitter-patter that reverberated through the room. Haley lay curled up on her bed, her body folded into a tight ball as she wept silently into her pillow.

Tears cascaded down her cheeks, mingling with the rivulets of water that streaked the glass, transforming the outside world into a hazy blend of grey and black. Occasionally, a bolt of lightning would pierce the gloom, its harsh light only serving to highlight the profound darkness enveloping Haley's soul.

As she lay there, the rain drumming a sorrowful rhythm against the window, Haley's mind replayed the day's events in an endless loop. She thought about her family—her parents no longer there, and her sister always consumed by work. The weight of isolation pressed down on her, even in a small, close-knit community like Pelican Town.

And then, of course, there was the incident with the farmer. That morning, she had been more brusque and rude than usual, driven by some unfathomable urge to push them away. Now, she was tormented by the thought that she might have alienated the one person who truly cared for her.

Haley felt a sharp pang of guilt at the memory of the farmer's expression that morning. It had been a poignant blend of surprise, hurt, and something else... maybe disappointment.

She could vividly recall the way the farmer had looked at her, eyes searching for some hint of understanding, before turning and walking away with shoulders slightly slumped. In that fleeting moment, an intense urge to call out to them, to apologize and explain herself, surged within her. But something held her back—perhaps stubbornness, perhaps pride. Now, it was too late, and she was left alone to grapple with the heavy weight of her actions and their inevitable consequences.

Haley's mind drifted back to the farmer, a tumultuous mix of emotions welling up inside her. They had shown her nothing but kindness since their arrival in Pelican Town. Despite her cold and dismissive demeanor, the farmer had remained steadfast, always friendly and respectful, never wavering in their gentle persistence.

And then there was her birthday... The farmer had gone out of their way to remember it, presenting her with a small but incredibly thoughtful gift. It was a simple gesture, yet it had pierced through her hardened exterior, making her feel something she hadn't felt in a long time... Seen. In that moment, amidst the rain and her solitary anguish, the memory of their kindness was a bittersweet reminder of what she might have lost.

Haley froze as the door to her room creaked open, her body instantly tensing at the intrusion. She hastily wiped away her tears, praying that the newcomer wouldn't notice the redness and puffiness of her eyes.

The farmer stepped into the room, their voice a soft whisper as they called out, "Haley...?"

She glanced up at them, her heart thudding in her chest, the weight of her earlier actions still pressing heavily on her. "What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice wavering between surprise and defensiveness.

The farmer spoke gently, their voice filled with concern, "I was worried about you. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Haley felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over her. Even after the way she had treated them, the farmer still cared enough to come and check on her, just to see if she was okay. She couldn't help but feel a pang of remorse at the thought of how she had acted towards them.

Her eyes welled up with tears once more, and she struggled to find the right words. "I'm... I'm sorry, truly. I don't deserve your kindness after the way I've been treating you," she managed to say, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions.

The farmer shook their head softly, a gentle smile gracing their lips. "Haley, everyone has their bad days. I know there's more to you than what you let on. I see it, even if you try to hide it."

Haley's defenses began to crumble in the face of such unwavering compassion. She had spent so long building walls around her heart, pushing people away before they could hurt her. But here was someone who saw through her facade, who cared enough to look past her rough edges.

"I don't know why I do it," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "I push people away because... I guess I'm afraid. Afraid of getting hurt, afraid of being vulnerable."

The farmer took a step closer, their eyes locked onto hers with a sincerity that made her chest tighten. "It's okay to be afraid, Haley. But you don't have to face that fear alone. You have people who care about you, who want to be there for you. Let us in."

Haley remained silent for a moment, absorbed in her tumultuous thoughts. Her heart was a storm of confusion, guilt, and a strange sense of longing she hadn't felt in a long time. The warmth of the farmer's concern was beginning to thaw the icy barriers she had built around herself.

As the farmer began to turn to leave, she felt a sudden, desperate need to not be alone. Summoning every ounce of courage she could find, she whispered, "Wait..." Her voice trembled slightly, betraying the vulnerability she so often tried to hide. "Please, don't go. Stay... stay with me."

The farmer hesitated, surprise flashing across their features. For a moment, Haley feared they might refuse, that she might have pushed them too far. But then, with a gentle nod, they moved to lie down next to her, their presence both calming and reassuring.

Gently, they enveloped her in their arms, holding her close as if to shield her from the storm raging within. Haley stiffened for a moment, unaccustomed to such tender closeness, but soon found herself melting into their embrace. The warmth of their body, the steady rhythm of their breathing—it was a balm to her wounded soul.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Haley allowed herself to be vulnerable, to let someone in. She buried her face in the farmer's chest, her tears soaking into their shirt as she finally let the dam of her emotions break. All the hurt, the loneliness, the fear—it all came pouring out in a torrent of sobs.

The farmer held her tighter, their hand gently stroking her hair, murmuring soothing words that she couldn't quite make out but felt deeply in her heart. "It's okay, Haley. You're not alone. I'm here. I'm here."

In that moment, the rain outside seemed to soften, as if the world itself was offering her a moment of peace. Haley clung to the farmer, feeling a sense of safety and acceptance she had long forgotten existed. Maybe she didn't have to face her fears and her pain alone. Maybe, just maybe, she could allow herself to trust, to hope, to heal.

And as she lay there, wrapped in the farmer's comforting embrace, Haley felt a flicker of something new—a sense of belonging, of being seen and understood. It wasn't a solution to all her problems, but it was a start. A small, precious start.

[pariahofpelicantown]

NSFW ABC (Leah)

(Minors DNI)

A = Aftercare

* As kinky and dominate as she is, she actually requires a good bit of after care. She’s very affectionate with you, and loves to cuddle afterwards.

* She loves to lay face to face, your legs intertwined as she strokes your hair and whispers gentle affirmations to you.

B = Body Part

* She’s proud of her body, and isn’t ashamed to admit it. Her breasts are firm and natural, and her ass Is toned and firm. The rest of her is nothing to be ashamed of either, and she’s fully confident walking around naked.

* For you she loves your neck. She loves to kiss and lick your skin, nipping at you playfully. Sometimes she’ll get carried away and leave love bites behind because she can’t control herself.

C = Cum

* It’s hot, sticky, and sweet. She’s definitely a creamy mess after she’s done, and she prefers to make you the same way.

* If you’re a guy she’ll absolutely let you cum in her.

* If you’re female she loves to trib a little bit after you’re both finished and combine both of your juices to make sure you’re equally messy.

D = Dirty Secret

* She wants to make a sex tape with you, or fuck you on one of her live streams (more about this under “wild card.”)

* She wants to see what you look like on camera together and let everyone see who you belong to.

E = Experience

* She knows her way around a bedroom, and around a body.

* She’ll never tell you the exact number she’s been with and unless you’re a virgin she doesn’t want to know your body count either (she has a bit of a jealous side.)

F = Favorite Position

* Tribbing for a female partner (with her on top)

* Reverse cowgirl.

* The captain.

G = Goofy

* She loves to laugh during sex, even if it’s a bit serious.

* She’s perfectly capable of being intense while breaking it up with a little fun.

H = Hair

* She rocks a landing strip.

* The hair below is just a shade darker than the hair above.

I = Intimacy

* She actually finds sex with you to be very intimate. Regardless of what you are doing, she loves you and that makes anything you are doing intimate.

* She’s fully capable of having sex without any emotional attachment, but with you that’s not the case.

J = Jack Off

* She’s not shy about it, it’s a key feature of her OnlyFans content. But she really only enjoys when she gives you a private show.

* She loves to watch you as well, and likes to boss you around a bit while you do it.

K = Kink

* She likes choking. Mainly she likes choking you, but if you’re really really good she MIGHT let you take control for a while. Maybe.

* Hair pulling, biting, scratching, spanking (to you), pegging (if you’ll let her).

* Bondage.

L = Location

* In front of a mirror. Rather bent over the bathroom sink and looking on the mirror, or having one placed over your bed.

* She loves making you watch yourself as she fucks you, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at yourself.

M = Motivation

* Seeing you standing in the hot sun, your body slick with sweat after working in the field and dumping water over your head never fails to get her going.

* She also loves seeing you come out of the shower wearing only a towel.

N = No

* She’s fine with some mild degradation but don’t ever tear her down or make her feel inferior to you. She has some serious baggage from Kel and doesn’t ever want to feel that way again.

* In turn, she’ll show you that same respect. She’ll call you a whore but she’ll never call you stupid.

O = Oral

* Fuck yes.

* She loves going down on you, and lavishing you with praises. “You’re so big” or “you’re so wet for me, you taste so good” and “that’s it you’re so good for me, you deserve this” are some of her favorite phrases.

* If you’re really good she’ll let you taste her as well but you need to earn it.

P = Pace

* She can be hard and rough, but she also has a soft and tender side that’s reserved just for you.

* She really follows your lead on this, and is willing to be however you need her to be.

* She’s dominate, but you call the shots with this part.

Q = Quickie

* Definitely not her first choice.

* She prefers to take her time and drag it out as long as possible as the foreplay is all part of the fun.

R = Risk

* She’s totally open to try anything, and isn’t necessarily worried about getting caught especially since she’s broadcasting on OF.

* She hasn’t found anything that she would deem “too risky” but she’ll be open and vocal if she does.

S = Stamina

* She has plenty, and it all comes down to how much you can handle. She usually prolongs getting off until you do so she makes sure she doesn’t push you too far.

T = Toys

* She has quite a few and likes to have a bit of variety.

* She likes using them on you, and having them used on her. Bonus points if you can use them together.

* She loves to be double penetrated, so an anal plug while using a rabbit is mind blowing for her.

U = Unfair

* She will tease the fuck out of you and not think twice about it. She’ll send you nudes, whisper filthy things in your ear while out in public, and grab your ass when nobody is looking.

* She acts like your advances have no effect on her, but it makes her wet when you reciprocate her advances.

V = Volume

* She does not give a fuck who hears her (or you).

* She likes to make you scream her name, and likes that people are aware of what she’s capable of doing and what they will never have.

W = Wild Card

* She has an OnlyFans that she operates from her “business phone.” She needed a way to get funds for her art supplies and makes a decent amount with it.

* Sam and Sebastian subscribe but not because they are into her. They do it to support her and hype her up.

* When she is live, they will comment things like “get it girl!” and “hype train!”

X = X-Ray

* She has her clit pierced.

* Her nipples also have rings in them and loves when you gently tug at them with your teeth.

Y = Yearning

* She’s not shy about how much she wants you. She’s always undressing you with her eyes, and imagines you naked all the time.

* You have a very healthy sex love and both of your needs are met in this area.

Z-Zzz

* She doesn’t fall asleep right away, preferring to spend extra time with aftercare. She wants to make sure that you’re taken care of, and wants you to know you’re important to her so she doesn’t like to fall asleep right after.

* She loves being dominate, but she loves you even more.

[pariahofpelicantown]

The Price of Rejection (Leah x Farmer)

Tw: Blood, character death.

Sunlight filtered gently through the dense canopy, creating a warm, inviting glow on a secluded patch of earth. In this tranquil spot, Leah and the farmer leaned against a sturdy tree, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other's presence.

Leah sighed contentedly and glanced at the farmer, her eyes filled with warmth. "This place is amazing," she whispered, her voice soft and intimate. "It's so calm... just us and the wilderness." She rested her head on the farmer's shoulder, her long, wavy hair cascading over their chest.

The farmer encircled Leah's waist with an arm, drawing her closer until their bodies were pressed together, warmth radiating between them. Their breaths harmonized, falling into a shared rhythm.

Tenderly, the farmer turned to place a soft kiss on Leah's forehead, savoring the way she leaned into the gesture. The scent of wildflowers and pine intermingled with the sweet aroma of Leah's shampoo, creating a fragrant cocoon around them. "I'm so glad we're here," the farmer whispered. "I love these peaceful moments alone with you."

As the farmer's words hung in the air, Leah adjusted her position, turning to face them fully. Her hand gently cupped the farmer's cheek, her fingertips tenderly tracing the curve of their jaw.

Their lips met in a gentle, exploratory kiss, delicate as the flutter of a butterfly's wings. Leah's lips, soft and pliant like rose petals, parted naturally as the kiss grew more passionate. The world around them seemed to disappear, leaving only the sensation of their lips intertwining and the mingling of their breaths.

The kiss deepened, each moment intensifying their connection. Leah's hand traveled from the farmer's jaw to the nape of their neck, her fingers threading through their hair. The farmer's arms tightened around her, their bodies merging closer.

A soft, yearning whimper escaped Leah's lips, a sound filled with desire. In response, the farmer drew her impossibly nearer, their hand slipping under the edge of her shirt to rest against the warmth of her bare waist.

The farmer felt the warmth emanating from Leah's skin, electric tingles sparking through their fingertips. As their hand skimmed across her back, tracing the curve of her spine, Leah shivered beneath their touch.

Their lips parted only to reunite in a flurry of short, fervent kisses. The farmer exhaled a ragged breath, their heart hammering in their chest. They felt utterly consumed by Leah—her taste, her touch, the soft, intoxicating sounds she made.

The intimate bubble around the farmer and Leah shattered abruptly as the sound of approaching footsteps pierced the tranquil silence of the forest.

Leah tensed, her breath halting in her throat. The farmer, momentarily puzzled, followed her gaze to spot a figure emerging from the underbrush. As the figure drew nearer, recognition dawned.

The farmer's arm instinctively tightened around Leah, a protective gesture against the unwelcome intrusion. Leah's ex wore a scowl, their expression dark and menacing.

"Kel," Leah hissed, her eyes narrowed in a fierce glare.

Kel's voice cut through the air, rough and accusatory. "What the hell are you doing out here, Leah?" Their eyes flickered between Leah and the farmer, searching for an explanation.

"And with them?You think you can actually be happy with this... yokel? That you belong here in the boonies?" Their words were laced with contempt. "I miss you, Leah. You need to come back with me to the city."

Leah's eyes blazed with a mixture of anger and defiance. "Kel, you don't get to dictate my life anymore," she snapped. "I'm here because I want to be. With someone who cares about me, not someone who tries to control me." The farmer's grip on Leah tightened, offering silent support.

Kel's anger erupted, their voice rising. "You're wasting your time here, Leah! You belong with me, not in this backwoods hellhole. I can give you a much better life than this."

They took a menacing step forward, their body language threatening. "You're mine, Leah, and I'm not gonna let you go that easily. You're coming back with me, and you're gonna forget about this farmer and all of this bullshit."

Leah stood her ground, her eyes fierce and unyielding. "No, Kel. I'm not yours. I never was. You can't just barge in and dictate how my life should be."

The farmer stepped forward, their presence a silent but powerful shield between Leah and Kel. "She said no," they stated firmly, their voice unwavering. "It's time for you to leave."

The atmosphere crackled with intensity as Kel, driven by fury, charged toward Leah.

The farmer reacted in an instant, positioning themselves protectively in front of Leah. The struggle that ensued was a whirlwind of motion, both of them locked in a fierce, desperate clash.

Then, in a single, horrifying moment, everything shifted. Kel's hand darted to their pocket, producing a knife that gleamed ominously in the dim light. With ruthless precision, they drove the blade into the farmer's side, the force of the blow sending them sprawling to the ground.

Leah's scream pierced the air as she fell to her knees beside the farmer, her hands shaking as she tried to stanch the flow of blood. "No!”

Kel stood over them for a moment, the knife still slick with blood, their face contorted with rage and something even more malevolent. But then, as the reality of their actions set in, panic overtook them. Dropping the knife, they turned and fled into the forest, the sound of their retreating footsteps fading into the forest.

Leah was oblivious to Kel's departure, her entire focus on the farmer's pain-filled eyes and strained breaths. "Stay with me," she pleaded. "Just hold on, please."

As the farmer lay there, the color draining far too quickly from their face, they managed to reach into their pocket and retrieve something small and metallic. It was a mermaid pendant, its charm glimmering faintly in the dim forest light.

Leah gasped as realization struck her, her eyes widening with disbelief and surprise. She reached out to take the pendant from the farmer's trembling hand, her fingers closing around it with a mixture of grief and shock.

The farmer's chest hitched slightly, each gasp for air more labored than the last. Blood pooled beneath their body, staining the surrounding leaves and soil. They stared up at the sky for a moment, their eyes losing focus as they gazed at the clouds.

Then, with one final, shuddering breath, their body went limp, the life ebbing out of them like the receding tide.

Tears cascaded down Leah's cheeks as she tenderly cradled the farmer's head in her lap. Leaning in close, she whispered softly in their ear, her voice quivering with a mixture of sorrow and affection.

"I accept.”

[pariahofpelicantown]

NSFW ABC (Maru)

(Minors DNI)

A = Aftercare

* The level of closeness and vulnerability that comes with intimacy is still sometimes overwhelming for her, so cuddles and gentle kisses are sure to follow.

* Lots of gentle caresses, soft words and tired smiles. 

* She loves when you stroke her hair, or run your fingers along her skin while she cuddles up close to you.

B = Body part

* She is really proud of her forearms. All of her tinkering and building has left them firm and toned, and she’s proud of how dexterous her fingers are. They come in handy when you become intimate and she’s able to show off how skilled they can be.

* She loves your eyes, especially when you are kneeling in front of her, looking up at her and pleasuring her. She loves seeing how much you love her and want her when she looks into your eyes in the moment.

C = Cum

* She’s a little embarrassed at how quickly she cums, especially since she has so many back to back. It only takes a few moments after the first time before she’s cumming again, repeating the process multiple times.

* She was really self conscious of this at first, but she’s learned to be less embarrassed by it after lots of reassurance from you.

D = Dirty secret

* She built her own sex toy. It started out as a normal dildo at first, but after some experimenting she was able to attach it to a motor and make her own fucking machine.

* She only used it once, since she nearly blacked out from how hard she came, and quickly disassembled it to return to a normal sex toy.

E = Experience

* You are her first sexual experience. Before you she had never even kissed anyone, so she is experiencing everything for the first time with you.

* It’s not surprising that she is a fast learner though, and after a few notes she’s proven to be a great lover.

F = Favorite position

* She likes sitting on the counter in her lab or the kitchen counter with you standing between her legs fingering her.

* Similarity, she likes to be on a counter or sitting in a chair while you kneel in front her and eat her out.

G = Goofy

* It’s important for her to feel comfortable with you, so making her laugh is essential to dispel any tension or apprehension.

* She needs to get out of her own head, and needs you to help her relax and lighten the mood to be able to be at ease and enjoy the moment with you.

H = Hair

* She’s completely shaved as she doesn’t want to bother worrying about it. Grooming is just one more thing to deal with and she prefers to get rid of it completely and not have to think about it.

I = Intimacy

* She is very loving and romantic with you. She wants to love you, and be loved in return, and prefers it to be a gentle, loving affair.

* She loves to praise and be praised, and would never what things to be degrading or rough.

J = Jack off

* She has definitely fucked herself, making her own sex toys and being very familiar with her own body. But she much prefers being with you as the emotional connection makes the act all the better.

* She loves machines but they can’t satisfy her emotional needs the way you can. She needs the emotional high much more than the physical high.

K = Kink

* She likes wearing her nurses outfit for you. You told her so often how hot she looks in it that it’s become a bit of an ego boost for her, and loves the way you look at her while she wears it.

L = Location

* She does prefer to keep it to the bedroom most of the time, but she also likes having sex in her lab, especially on her lab table.

M = Motivation

* She loves when you gently nibble her earlobe, or takes her bottom lip between your teeth. A little gentle biting or nibbling from you and she’ll be putty in your hands.

* Whisper how sexy she looks into her ear and she will be completely at your mercy.

N = No

* She’s still experimenting different things with you, so she’s still learning what she does and doesn’t like. But she knows she’ll never want to explore pet play or anything overly degrading.

O = Oral

* She is on a very level playing field. She loves giving as much as receiving, feeling a hint of pride each time she makes you cum with her mouth.

* She loves the taste of you, and loves when you cum on her tongue or in her mouth, loving to taste her accomplishment.

P = Pace

* She’s perfectly fine if you get a little rough with her. Pull her hair a bit, leave bite marks, dig your fingers into her sides. As long as it’s done with love and you don’t actively try to hurt her she likes it a little rough sometimes.

* She also loves when you love her gently and worship her body. Either way she loves the way you make her feel and knows she’ll always be left satisfied.

Q = Quickie

* She has no reservations about it. She’s perfectly happy to go a quick round if it’s all there’s time for as long as you don’t make it a habit.

R = Risk

* She’s a scientist, so she’s always down to experiment. But only after she has researched the topic. If it’s something she feels she will enjoy she will bring it up and be more than open to trying it.

* On the flip side if it’s something she finds distasteful she will stay away from it and not even entertain the idea.

S = Stamina

* She has a pretty high stamina, and has multiple orgasms back to back.

* She has a high endurance, and has no problems taking care of you and making sure you’re as satisfied as she is. She loves the feeling of knowing she wore you out and her strong forearms and hands means she doesn’t tire easily.

T = Toys

* Apart from the ones she made herself, she never bothered to acquire any. She didn’t feel the need to spend money on something she could make herself and they proved to be quite efficient.

* She’ll never admit this to you though and you are none the wiser about it.

U = Unfair

* She tries to tease you, but she always ends up caving first. She’s gotten better and holding out but she’s still not able to outlast you.

V = Volume

* She moans a lot, but isn’t super loud to the point everyone knows what’s happening. It’s just loud enough for you, as that side of her is reserved for you alone.

* She’ll moan your name into your ear, and whimper so only you hear how good you’re making her feel.

W = Wild card

* She has a tattoo of her favorite constellation on her left hip.

X = X-ray

* Her body has the sexiest curves, giving her a gorgeous full figure. Her soft brown skin makes her look like a goddess and she loves the way you look at her when she strips for you.

Y = Yearning

* She wouldn’t consider herself to have an overactive sex drive, but she’s also nowhere near a prude.

* She falls in a normal range and is just as happy to have sex as she is to cuddle up with a movie.

Z = Zzz

* It takes her a while to fall asleep afterwards, as she needs to come down from the high before she can settle down enough to relax and fall asleep.

* She loves pillow talk, and loves snuggling up to you and holding you and feeling that connection with you.

[pariahofpelicantown]

NSFW ABC (Abigail)

(Minors DNI)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

* She is the sweetest when it comes to aftercare. She may seem like she is indifferent to the world but when it comes to you, you are her world and she will do everything she can to make sure you’re taken care of.

* She also requires gentle touches and kisses for aftercare, needing to feel a bit of security in her vulnerability.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

* She is really proud of her tits. They’re small, perky, and the perfect size to fit into your hand. She has no issues walking around with no top on, even outside when working on the farm.

* She loves your ass, and will grab it at every available opportunity.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

* Twice is usually her limit, unless you are going for overstimulation. She cums so hard it takes a lot out of her, so twice is usually as much as she can do.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

* She is very into Consensual non consent. She wants to play out her darkest fantasies and have you take her seemingly against her will, with her pretending to fight you off.

* She is also into degradation, and wants you to call her a whore, a slut, or any other names meant to degrade her and take away her humanity.

* She won’t voice this unless she is VERY comfortable with you as she’s a bit ashamed of her darker desires.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

* She has a bit of experience, more than what most people would expect from her. She definitely knows her way around the bedroom and is not shy about being with a new partner.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

* Face sitting. She loves to grip your hair, grinding her hips down into you as she uses your mouth and tongue to fuck her. If you aren’t pleasing her how she wants, she has no problems smothering you with her body for a moment until you start complying.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

* She never takes herself too seriously and doesn’t expect you to either. She think life should be fun, and that includes sex.

* It can get a bit more serious when doing more BDSM stuff, but she likes to break it up with a bit of levity.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

* She rocks a landing strip, as it’s her way of not conforming to either side of the “shave or don’t shave” debate. It’s a nice balance, and her way of not committing to one or the other.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect.)

* She isn’t of the mindset that “intimate” means it has to be candle light and music. To her it’s about sharing that connection with someone, even if it’s a bit rougher than what’s socially acceptable.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

* While she has a good variety of toys, her favorite way to get herself off is lots of lube and a simple vibrator on her clit.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

* She loves scratching and biting. She has no reservations about digging her nails or teeth into you, as a way of marking you as hers. She wants you to still feel her even after she has stopped touching you.

* She also loves when you pull her hair. Give it a good yank and she’ll reward you with a yelp of pleasure.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

* She doesn’t really have a “favorite” place to have sex. All she needs is you, and she knows you can both have fun regardless of where you are.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

* She loves watching you strip. Nothing excites her more than leaning back and watching you slowly take your clothes off for her.

* More often than not she’ll start playing with herself before you are completely bare.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

* She absolutely refuses to call anyone (or be called) mommy or daddy. It completely turns her off and makes her feel a bit sick at the idea.

* She is also not into age play, or anything to do with littles. She likes a bit of taboo as much as the next person, but she cannot get into that particular kink.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

* She much prefers receiving rather than giving. She’s more than happy to please you in other ways, but going down on you is not her favorite thing.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

* She’s not into vanilla sex, but that doesn’t mean she can’t be loving. Just because she’s not into missionary doesn’t mean she’s incapable of “making love” to you, but you have to be vocal about what you need from her as she’s not a mind reader.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

* Why not?

* It doesn’t matter to her if you only have five minutes to get off, it just cuts off a bit of foreplay and she’s perfectly fine with that.

* She sees nothing wrong with a quick fuck, as she knows it’s not an everyday thing.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

* It’s Abigail, she’s pretty much down for anything.

* She’ll try anything once, and if she doesn’t like it then she’ll never do it again.

* She shows you that same respect, never doing anything you specifically said you didn’t like.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

* She can go for a long time in terms of stamina, and endurance but once she’s reached her limit she’s done. Usually that’s only two times, so she wants to make sure you get your fill before she finishes as she’s pretty much useless afterwards.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

* She has a fair amount of toys, but her favorite ones are the ones you can use together.

* She just bought a ball gag she has been dying to try out and can’t wait to use it with you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

* If she wants to tease you she will send you nudes without a second thought. She is not subtle about what she wants and absolutely loves riling you up.

* However she will pout and moan if you tease her back. She cannot take what she dishes out.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

* She is loud, proud, and doesn’t give a hypothetical fuck who hears. As far she is concerned the people who complain are just jealous their partner doesn’t fuck them like that.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

* As stated above, she has never gotten to try her darker kinks, as she hasn’t trusted anyone enough to show them that side of her. But she trusts you and wants you to be the one she explores it with.

* She loves the idea of being at your mercy and trusts you enough to know you’ll never actually hurt her.

* She has a journal she jots her fantasies down in, and you have been the main character in all of her more freaky ones.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

* She has both her nipples double pierced. She actually found it super erotic when it happened the first time and went back for more once they healed.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

* She has a fairly high sex drive, especially when it comes to you. The moment she saw you she was instantly attracted to you and that attracting has only grown stronger.

* She thinks about fucking you more times than she cares to admit, as you’ve allowed her to be herself and haven’t tried to stifle her.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

* She falls asleep almost immediately after, but will always kiss you good night. She feels bad for how fast she falls asleep, and sometimes needs reassurance you aren’t mad at her for it.

[pariahofpelicantown]

NFSW ABC (Claire)

(Minors DNI!)

A = Aftercare

She is really affectionate after sex. She'll cuddle up close to you, running her fingers gently over your bare skin. She loves being the big spoon but rarely has had the opportunity, so she will jump at the chance to hold you.

B = Body part 

She is really proud of her legs and ass. Years as a dancer have toned up those areas, and she loves showing them off for you.

As for you, she loves your lips. She catches herself staring at them throughout the day, and not necessarily in a sexual way. She loves your smile, your laugh, basically anything you do with your lips.

C = Cum

She can usually only go for one round, but she will draw it out. She doesn't want to finish too soon as she knows it's all she will be able to do, so she will go for as long as possible until she physically can't take it anymore and needs to cum.

D = Dirty secret 

She used to fantasize about breaking into Morris's office and having you bend her over his desk and fuck her on her lunch break.

E = Experience 

She doesn't tend to kiss and tell about her past experiences, but it's obvious she is no amateur. She knows what she likes, and is very skilled at learning your likes and dislikes.

She is good at what she does, and doesn't feel the need to boast about any prior experience, preferring to let her actions speak for themselves.

F = Favorite position 

The Stuntman. She is quite flexible and can easily pull off this position. It works for any gender, and she loves how deep you can reach inside her while in this position.

She also enjoys riding you. She loves looking into your eyes as she takes what she needs from you.

G = Goofy 

She always appreciates if you can make her laugh, especially during sex. She loves when you make her smile, your antics lightening the mood in any situation. She feels really comfortable around you, and appreciates when you can both let your guard down even further.

H = Hair

She keeps herself well trimmed and maintained, but fails to see the purpose of completely removing something that will simply grow back at an annoying rate.

Carpet absolutely matches the drapes.

I = Intimacy 

She is a very intimate lover, and loves to make you feel how important you are to her. It's important to her that you feel loved and appreciated, especially during sex.

She also loves when you can feel how much you want her. Her favorite thing is looking into your eyes and seeing her own desires reflected back at her.

J = Jack off

She used to joke that she was the best lover she has ever had, and could get herself off in a manner of moments. She loves and prefers sex with you though, and hasn't had the need to fuck herself since you got together.

K = Kink 

She really enjoys being spanked. If you are taking her from behind, or she is riding you, a few slaps to her ass will have her tossing her head back and shrieking.

She also has a thing for fucking in the water. Places like showers, lakes, ponds, even in the rain will always be agreeable to her. She loves the idea of getting clean while getting dirty.

L = Location 

She loves shower sex. Seeing the water dripping from your body is something she will never tire of seeing. Pushing you against the wall and gazing up at you while she goes down on you is one of her favorite things.

She also loves going for late night swims in the pond on the farm, and having a little playtime in the water under the stars.

M = Motivation

She melts every time you wrap your arms around her waist and whisper in her ear. It could be something simple, such as telling her how beautiful she looks, and she will feel the familiar longing begin to stir. She especially enjoys when you whisper dirty things to her. Even though she might blush a bit, she enjoys knowing that you want her in that way.

N = No 

Don't treat her like a sex toy. She doesn't want to feel like you are using her solely for sex even if it is in a joking way. Don't make her feel like an object in any capacity.

She is also against degradation, both giving and receiving. She wants you both to feel sexy and desired, not like a piece of trash.

O = Oral 

She prefers giving rather than receiving. She is not necessarily opposed to receiving but she would much rather go down on you than have you eat her out. There are other things she prefers much more.

P = Pace 

Slow and steady is the way to go with her. She's definitely not the type to rush things, and prefers to savor every moment of intimacy. The foreplay alone is tantalizingly slow, and most nights seem to have no beginning and no end when it comes to having sex.

Q = Quickie 

She is more than happy to have a quickie if that's all you have time for. She doesn't feel it diminishes the act or anything of that nature and is perfectly happy to have a quickie before one of you has to rush off.

R = Risk 

She is very open to try new things, but she would prefer not to risk being caught. She is not easily embarrassed and wouldn't consider herself shy, but she is not about to go looking to test fate and risk being caught.

S = Stamina

She doesn't get tired very easily, and she can go for quite a while. She doesn't want to finish too quickly though, and takes steps to make sure it's not over too soon. Her hand and mouth don't tire easily, so she is quite capable of taking care of you until she is ready to finish.

T = Toys 

She has a couple but they are simple vibrators, nothing too wild or crazy. She is open to using them during sex, but it's not something she thinks about very often. You are more than enough for her, but if you suggested the idea she would not be opposed to it.

U = Unfair 

Teasing can be fun, but she prefers not to do it to the point where it's torture. She doesn't necessarily want to edge you, but she does want to make you squirm a little bit

She'll tease you a little throughout the night, little touches and kisses to your neck, giving you just enough to shiver before pulling away. Once you finally start fucking though, she is very generous with her touches.

V = Volume 

She doesn't get super loud, just loud enough so that you know what you are doing to her. She only wants you to know how good you make her feel, she doesn't have any desire to alert the world of what happens in your bedroom.

W = Wild card 

She loves giving you lap dances. Her experience as a dancer makes this quite easy for her to pull off, and she loves teasing you with her body.

She is able to tap into her sexuality and use every inch of her body to entice you, moving her hips in a way that leaves little to the imagination of what she wants.

X = X-ray 

She has a lean body, toned with lithe muscle from her years as a dancer. Her legs are the strongest part of her, and she loves wrapping them around your waist and pulling you closer to her.

Y = Yearning 

She has a decent sex drive, and doesn't swing too wildly to one side or another. She will let you know if she it not in the mood, and has no problems being the one to initiate. You have a very healthy dynamic, and you both want each other just as badly as the other.

Z = Zzz 

It takes a while for her to fall asleep afterwards, as it takes a while for her to come back down. If you happen to fall asleep before her, as you usually do, she will continue to hold you until she falls asleep, content to simply be in your presence.