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dutiful-wildcraft · 6 months ago

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Life's Sweet Bells

A COD Farm Sim AU with omegaverse splashed in!

Not a long fic (I hope) but just a series of little stories surrounding Paloma, a soft and sweet omega who's recently earned a farm from a long lost inheritance. Paloma begins cultivating her new life, embracing the rewards and challenges of her new town and it's eccentric strangers.

Poly 141 x F!OC

Link for all the "Villagers"

Introductions

Paloma nearly ignored the old ratty letter she'd received in the post. A hand written thing, outlining her inheritance from a long lost relative.

An inheritance she stands before now.

Alejandro, the mayor, a tall alpha with a bright smile, had been incredibly apologetic about the state of the old farm. Rudy, his partner, had explained that the old place had been vacant for some time, and it had only been recently that they discovered the old man’s nearest next of kin.

Paloma, however, was hearing none of it, gazing at the lonely plot of land with stars in her eyes.

The place was beautiful, a humble little cottage nestled in the middle of a quiet rolling forest. Its overgrown, vines crawling up the cobbled stone chimney, weeds taking over the empty field, but she can hear a brook nearby, and the little plot had not only a barn, but a greenhouse to boot. It was all worn, in disarray from by the elements, but it's hers. ‘Paloma Hadley’ now legally scrawled on the deed in swirling black ink.

Alejandro and Rudy had been kind enough to assist her with the small chest of her belongings, and with a promise to check in tomorrow to finalize the last of the paperwork they had left her to her own devices.

The next day passes quickly, with Paloma up to her elbows in dust and grime, scrubbing years of dirt off of the fine hardwood floors. She’d nearly slipped twice, trucking around her little cottage with bright red wellies to spare her socks. Had gone to war with what appeared to be a small village of spiders living in her bathroom, dutifully capturing and tossing them outside in a cup, and nearly fell down her front steps trying to drag the old heavy rugs outside to wash and beat on an old drying line. But compared to how it was before? She would catch spiders every day. Happily.

She didn't have much to her name when she left, just a small bedroom’s worth of items that she’d kept while she’d lived with her parents. She’d had no problem with leaving, and it wasn’t like her old job was paying her enough to have a place of her own anyway. Despite the increasing list of fix-ups and chores, Paloma had already started to cultivate a sense of pride over her new little home.

A home, with lovely rugs and quaint wood furniture.

She’s still cleaning, bopping around her kitchen while a pop song blares on her meager little radio when she just barely catches the knock on her door. She fumbles with the volume, dusting off her hands on her already dingey apron and scuttles toward the door, swinging it open to find perhaps the most handsome man she has ever seen in all her years of life.

He’s almost too pretty, dark curls cropped neatly, with a roguish little scar across his cheek. He’s dressed in a simple button up, short sleeves rolled a few times to highlight the toned curves of his arms, well worn belt with an assortment of tools slung heavily around his hips.

“Evenin’ miss” he greets with a nod of his head, pearly white fangs on full display as he smiles down at her, warm and bright. Pretty and an alpha. He must have been working hard today, having sweated through his blockers if the way his scent rolls through her is any indication. It’s warm and floral, tonka and citrus, with a hint of spice that would have her tail wagging if she had one. It wasn’t every day that she got a whiff of alpha, really anyone for that matter. Most designations kept their scent muted or gone entirely, especially in the city where she’d grown up. It was considered polite work culture to keep one’s scent from intervening from day to day activities, which was more a way for designations to avoid bias in the hiring pool. Only bonded pairs stopped blocking their scent.

Her eyes flick to his neck for a quick confirmation, only to see it covered conveniently (and charmingly) with a soft blue bandana. A new mystery to solve.

Paloma realizes she must have been staring a little too long when he clears his throat softly, making her flinch. Way to be cool Paloma. She has a hard time getting her words out, smiling dumbly as the alpha on her porch chuckles awkwardly. Extending a hand.

“Kyle Garrick, y’can call me Gaz.”

She reaches out without thinking, her fingers brushing against his wrist in her haste to wrap her soft hand around his. If Gaz notices the small social faux pa he doesn’t say anything, simply gives her soft a squeeze before letting go politely.

“Sorry! Wasn’t expecting anyone else today.” she attempts, tucking the loose strands of her hair behind her ears nervously, introducing herself in return as an afterthought.

“‘Course not, didn't mean to intrude. It’s not often we see a new face around here, let alone one moving in. Wanted to bring by a little house warming gift, figured you’d have your hands full with all this.” he gestures.

Gaz presents her with actual tools, a decent sized shovel, hoe, and axe, he even tosses in a small toolbox, and a handful of varying seed packets.

He rubs the back of his neck, “Not sure if you wanted to actually keep up with the old farm, but if you did, these'll give you a start.”

She looks it all over with absolute glee.

“No! This is perfect. Thank you Gaz, really. I don't know what this place used to look like, but I want to pick up where it was left off.” she says proudly, hands on her hips.

She'd already hoarded up all sorts of books and manuals on farming and caretaking. Determined to be as self sufficient as she could.

It was a pipe dream maybe, thinking she could make a living selling produce and cute jams, and she tells him so, shoulders falling ever so slightly.

“It's really not. Been missing someone like you around here since the old man died. The general store and village market's been suffering for it. I think you're just the person we needed around here Paloma.”

His words are so genuine it nearly makes her misty.

“I've got my work cut out for me, but I intend to do my very best” she promises, meeting his eyes with a bold resolve.

“I've got no doubt you will.” he chuckles. “Just so you know, I run the carpentry shop just up the road. If you need a hand, come see me, yeah?”

“Will do!” she waves, watching her first kind stranger take his leave.

–

Paloma takes it easier the following days.

Well

A little easier.

Rudy had explained the old shipping bin on her property, and with her cottage finally, less spidery and grim she had resolved to at least do a little foraging in the bountiful area Alejandro had been sure to remind her of. The move in general had taken what little savings she'd had. And if selling off a few things would garner her some pocket change then she had to do all she could.

It was at least a start.

She was pretty pleased with her bounty around the mid afternoon, having already filled her basket full of varying mushrooms and wild vegetables. At least the ones she thought were edible. She hopes Rudy at least looks it over before taking it.

She's plopped on her rear, fingers stained blue as she works over a healthy looking berry bush (popping a few of the prettiest ones in her mouth in between) when a new voice startles her.

“New to town and already riflin’’ through other folk's gardens I see!”

The loud scottish lilt has her nearly jumping out of her skin. She whirls, eyes falling to yet another handsome stranger.

He's another big boy, white tank top smudged with dirt and loose sprigs of hay, his hair is cropped into a short mohawk, a rabbit's foot charm dangling from a loose chain around his neck. A farriers apron hugs his thick thighs, a fine layer of sweat glistening against his sun kissed skin.

Good heavens, they build them different in the country.

She sputters, trying to haul herself up “I didn't mean to- I didn't know?? I'm-”

“Easy lass, just yankin’ your chain” he laughs, extending a hand to help her up, his grip is firm, and he must overestimate how much strength he needs to pull her soft body up out of the dirt because he hauls her right into his chest.

Her brain reels, getting a nose full of sweet alpha musk, a fun mix of buttery shortbread and soft rose that seems odd clinging to such a macho looking alpha.

His freehand catches her, warm broad palm against the small of her back as she flails again, trying to get distance between them, nearly tripping over her own boots when he settles her again, a warm palm on her shoulder to hold her in place.

She's grateful she grabbed a healthy supply of her own blockers before leaving, at least she wouldn't be perfuming all over the place like a fool. She was embarrassed enough that her encounter with Gaz the day before had her snuffling at his scent on her hand all evening like a lonely puppy.

“Easy there” he says good naturedly, giving her a pat not unlike a horse before pulling his hand away. “Was wonderin’ when you'd come by and see me.” he beamed, pretty blue eyes bright with mischief.

She rights herself, dusting the dirt from her knees. “Is this your property? I didn't mean to intrude, I didn't realize someone was so close…”

She admittedly hadn’t strayed too far from home just yet, she wanted to get at least a little settled before meandering into town. She feels a little bad for not even bothering to see her new neighbor.

He introduces himself as John Mactavish, Soap for short. Explains that he minds the livestock just up the way, ducks and chickens and cows and horses, and that she was indeed on his property.

“Not that I mind of course. Alejandro told me we had someone new, didn't know you'd be such a bonnie thing, s'good to finally have a new face ‘round here.” he teases as they walk together. Soap had insisted he walk her home, had even snagged her basket of berries, holding them hostage, claiming she had too much to carry already with her backpack already sagging heavily against her shoulders.

Soap was a talker, rambling animatedly, introducing her to new names of fellow townsfolk she’d yet to meet, too many names lost on her as they made they’re way down the worn dirt path to her home. Talking with him was as easy as breathing, and while Gaz had been friendly she didn’t feel quite the same nervousness with Mactavish, and soon enough her own chattery energy came out to match his own. It wasn’t long before the pair were laughing and giggling their way under the afternoon sun, swapping stories of past awkward moments and old jobs.

Just from the way he talked, she could tell Soap was well liked, referring to most everyone in town as his friend. It was incredibly sweet how he only had good things to say. And if what Soap was saying was true, Paloma would have no issue getting to know everyone in town, well, mostly, everyone.

“Ach, Ghost, you’ll like him, he’s a tough nut to crack, but he’s good people, my best pal.” he says warmly, setting her basket down beside her front door. He starts to continue before he pauses, taken aback. She guesses in their chattering Soap hadn’t noticed their arrival until she’d let him right to her door.

“My days” he sighs, baby blues surveying her little farm, he doesn’t say anything as he steps off her porch, beelining it for her old barn, making her half run just to keep with his longer strides. He takes it upon himself to survey the building, making a couple rounds around the foundation before wrenching the old doors open with a grunt of effort. She follows him inside, mimicking him by putting her own hands on her hips as they both look around. Paloma isn’t quite sure what she’s looking for, but Soap does, and if anything she’s here for support.

“Ya know, I’ve never been out here before, the old man kept to himself, ya got yourself a good little setup here, hen. Little bit of patching here and hammering there and this’ll do just fine!”

“You think so? I would love to have a few animals, nothing too serious, but the company would be nice.”

“I know so, and tell you what.” he turns to her, a mischief Paloma suspects is permanent in his eyes, “ you come ‘round my place, help me tend to mine, and I’ll teach you a few things, even throw in a few coins for your trouble. That way we both have some company, aye?”

“You’d really do that?”

“‘Course! Just a little while, once you get this place all neat and tidy you’ll have your hands plenty full, and then you’ll be askin’ ole Soap for help.” he teases, clapping her on the shoulder once more, broad palm dangerously close to the tender gland at the juncture of her shoulder.

Paloma nods her head at the charismatic alpha, cheeks burning at the innocent contact. She wasn’t going to turn a prime opportunity down, and hands on contact would be much better experience than fumbling around with a book. It’s not like she was imposing, he offered after all, like good neighbors do, and she’d admittedly grown fond of the playful scot after their little walk together.

“Excellent, I’ll get out of your hair for now bonnie girl, but do me a favor would ye?” he asks seriously, looking her dead in the eye. “Stay out of trouble, your lucky I was alright with you pilferin’ my berries like that but-”

A loud snort tears from her at his teasing, one she attempts to cover half heartedly as more snorts follow, making Soap laugh too, she punches him in the side playfully, trying to catch her breath as Soap’s giggles make her laugh even more.

“And now you’re assaulting me! I’ll have you know I wont tolerate nefarious behavior like this, I’ll let it slide this time girlie, but it won’t happen again.” he proclaims, waggling his finger at her, only making her laugh harder. They part ways in giggles, Soap waving pleasantly as he trots back off into the distance, his sweet rose scent wafting around her in a pleasant cloud.

Paloma’s cheeks hurt from smiling, and for once the heavy weight of carrying on feels like nothing at all.

#they may accidently sound southern #but i do think the english and southern accents follow a similar pattern #sorry in advance #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty #farm sim au #wildcraft writing #Life's Sweet Bells #oc: paloma hadley #poly 141

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