#➳ • • sunflowers end up facing the sun ; but they go through a lot of dirt to thea harlow ⸥ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tealthepixel · 1 year

Text

Part two finished! a bit longer than the previous one

Journey to Greatness

part 2: Bounty hunt

The door opened one last time for that night, with the two elementals back at home, the sun and orange skies took leave as they made room for the cold moon and its dark clouds, they walked into the living room and from there they went to their separate rooms, putting their equipment and found resources into their respective chests and quickly changing into their nightly attire, they both finish their waking moments saying “good night” to each other from their rooms and proceed to go to bed.

The sun rose anew, dark skies replaced with the warm orange yellow and blue skies, birds chirped their morning anthems, and Plasma woke up, invigorated from a good nights rest, she took off her woollen blanket with speed and got up from her bed ready for a new day, taking quick steps past the living room into the kitchen to make the morning meal.

She goes to the wall where two chests and a set of drawers are positioned, she grabbed two light grey smooth stone plates and places them on the dark stone kitchen top, and goes back to the chest next to the drawers, she opened it with vigour and inside there ware all sorts of fresh ingredients, forever kept at a cool temperature by the base filled with light blue ice crystals, she grabbed four eggs, quickly closed the chest and went back to the kitchen top. Face filled with determination, she cracked two eggs for each plate, dazzling them with a bit of the local sunflower oil from the wood bottle that was on the kitchen top, and broke a portion of a salt cube that was resting on another plate, crushed it between her hands and sprinkled it on over the eggs, to finish the procedure off she grabbed the plates with her palms under them and heat them up until they were cooked at her desired level, she puts them on the top and went to her brothers room, slowly and quietly opened the door, stuck her head through and said excitedly:

-”Good morning!”

Her announcement is followed by an abnormal silence,

-”Electro?” she asked one more time, receiving silence again and without other options she decides to investigate.

Few steps in and his room, consisting of wood walls and glass windows seemed a lot larger than hers at first sight, but there was overall little leg room due to the clutter in it, tables filled with researcher equipment, brewing stands, empty potion flasks on the tables and some on the ground, chest overstuffed with a mess of plants and equipment, at the end of room Electro can be seen on his chair sleeping head first onto his other research table, with the rose and dirt from yesterdays adventure still in its jar, a small pile of papers with messy ink writing and his glasses next to the pile, concerned, she went next to him and nudged him a little to wake him up.

Like a bear awoken from their hibernation, he groaned while lifting up his head, his “hair” is messier than before but its more consistently keeping its shape, he rubbed his tired face with his hands but it didn’t seem to help much with his fatigue.

-”Electro?” she asks again

An acknowledgment could be heard from the elemental, but muffled by his hands.

-”You alright?”

-”Oh yeah, I am,” he responded, failing to ease her concern “just a bit tired I suppose,” he followed, while looking up at her from his chair.

-”You should probably sleep some more, its pretty important,” she replied, he looked at her with eyes half way shut, she continued “and if not then I made you some breakfast in the kitchen if you’re hungry, you’ll need it more than me” she added.

With his fatigued tone he chuckled and thanked her.

-”Ill be heading to the central market in a bit, got some stuff id wanna do, if you need something, you know how to contact me,” she said while beginning to leave the room.

-”Don’t forget to take your sword,” her brother replied, “You never know what can happen there” he added. “Alright alright, I will” she responded, and added sarcastically “ill take some health flasks as well in case I almost die for buying some stones,” he chuckled again.

A few minutes went by and she was almost ready to go, she opened her equipment chest and put her sword and hilt onto her leather belt, with a few small healing flasks attached next to it, she grabbed her rune bracelet with an empty slot in its middle and puts in a small green rune and instead of a tunic, she put on a simple white silk shirt, lastly she puts on her adventurer boots and went to the front door.

She yelled “Ill be back in a few hours, guard the house while I’m gone, okay?” she added, which is followed by a loud yet tired “Okay,” in return.

She left the house and passed through the local market, a few “good morning”’s and “how are you?”’s get exchanged between her and the neighbours and town’s folk, before making a straight line to the central market, the calm lone dirt path slowly changing to a mixture of dark stones and pebbles, signifying her arrivals at the Hambsburg Central Market, at the outskirts, long stone paths and many cross roads were ahead, leading to various markets, homes of the towns folk, black smiths, outside traders, and other goods and services as far as the eye could see, she walked some more and the ground vibration were building up with the sounds people walking, the clanks of guardsmen armour, hammers hitting anvils, horse shoes hitting the ground, and squeaks of carriage wheels sustaining the weight of goods, she advanced even more, with the noises of people chattering, disputes of trades and purchased items all overlapping more and more where only the yells and shouts of merchants proposing their services could be heard:

-“Need yer amour polished? I can get it done for ya for 40 golda piece.”

-“New ores gott’n straight from the lands of Wind Fall fer the lowest prices you will ever find!”

-“Need the perfect weapon for battle? The finest blacksmith in the land can do it for just 100 gold!” and other announcements.

Looking around she could see all sorts of people of varying shapes, sizes and classes, some being knights, swordsmen, archers, thieves, you name it, but Plasma ignored most of these, keeping her focus centred on the middle of the road, with an occasional stare at what products were offered at the stands and tables. She finally arrived at the centre of Hambsburg Central Market, the pathways she walked upon were entirely made of stone of varying colours, from grey, to dark grey, and even darker grey, the place was much more crowded, proving difficult to reach ones destination, the Town hall was proudly standing tall, there was also the town’s news board, big wooden rectangle decorated with designs in yellow paint, with all news and events going on in there which was located a bit far from the Town hall but close enough, there were markets selling goods of visibly much higher quality and price, market stands far larger and decorated, having the tapestries of different designs signifying at a glance the goods sold, metal bars, potions, runes to name a few, this side was patrolled by guards far more frequently.

She managed to bump her way out of the crowd to reach the news board, she caught her breath from the challenge and finally looked at the board, she observed anything that could be of interest of her, top-left part of the board was filled with “monster hunting” type tasks of varying quantities rewarding some low rewards “defeat 50 skeleton archers, reward 20 gold” “defeat 60 slimes, reward 25 gold” the mere thought of dealing with them was enough to make her look at the rest of what the board had to offer, top-right of the board had recent information, the likes of guild joining petitions, advertisement for goods or services, news reports of recent events happening in the lands, wrote by several news groups like “The Royal Letter” or the local “Hemb-News Group” and others, uninterested in that she looked farther down the board on the bottom-left side, containing active events, like the “flower falls” event with increased the flowers and general herb growth during the month, she began to lose hope, she looked at the bottom-right of the board containing all information on the towns recent bounties on people, for the moment there were only 3 papers:

“Bounty: Vorichi Ironhood, Wanted Alive” the paper had a crude drawing of a blank faced demon-like figure with its bounty being stated as “50 gold”,

“Burner Bill: Wanted Dead or Alive” the page had a head shot drawing of some man with crazy hair and big glasses, it was drawn pretty well, though the paper had a slight burnt corner with a bounty of 120 gold on him,

And the last page had written “Joe Jameson The 12th Wanted Alive” having a photo of a simple man in a normal set of clothes with additional lettering under the wanted text “Please he’s just a young boy, he’s very lost without his mama, he’s gotta be back home by 7pm for his dinner :( “ with a written bounty of 25 gold

She put her head between her hands,“Demon dude, Pyromaniac, and lost child, great.” she said as her hands were muffling the sound, making a groan of realization at how useless that had been, but grabbed a copy of each image from the trays under the board and wrapped them up neatly in her pocket, and decided to make a turn back to her home.

On the way back home she didn’t manage to get too far from her original position due to the a sudden change of background noise, the normal sounds of people talking, boots hitting the stone and pebbled ground, and armours clanking, was overshadowed by an amalgamation of sounds resembling an argument that was trying to die down which could be heard on her left side, she stopped, looked around said direction, where between the wall of people, traders and blacksmiths there was an empty opening around the length of another market stand, from where she was she could see that the opening was visibly dirtier, the lesser amount of grey pebbles starting to get surrounded by pesky weeds sapping the energy from the visible soil and having dark green moss around the corners.

She decided to get a bit closer to the opening, the arguing sounds began to die down, this time with some reassuring chatter being heard, she tried to make her presence unnoticed by staying around one of the stands next to the opening, upon closer inspection it could be seen that the chatter was shared between 3 hooded figures standing in a triangular shape, the 2 of them were dressed in almost identical clothes, long dark-brown tunics with visibly stitched on pieces of fabric, topped with a black leather vest, dark leather boots, and dark brown cotton pants, one of them had a brown drawstring pouch filled with something heavy dangling from the belt, the other, had a visible short hilt with a handle poking out on his belt most likely resting a pocket knife of sorts, the last one wasn’t dressed too differently, but Plasma’s eyes insisted on a look of familiarity towards them, even though they wore almost the same attire only that the long tunic was replaced by a short long-sleeved black one with a hood, with the only differences being the complete dark face mask they were wearing, two black horns protruding from the hood with one seemingly cut in half and the other having a blood red colouring trickling from its tip, and a rather long and lanky tail with a sharp triangle at the tip with sparks of red originating from it and running down the rest of the tail, they weren’t in an advantageous position, since they were cornered by the other 2, but the calmer tone the conversation had seemed to break and escalate fast with the 2 getting visibly agitated, until the long tailed figure managed to break the barrier the two were forming and made a run for it while holding a smaller dark blue pouch in his hand.

-“HE’S TAKING OUR SHIT!” yelled the man with the pouch on his belt, while violently pointing his index at the running figure, “SOMEONE STOP HIM,” he added.

Before the fugitive managed to make his successfully getaway past the mass of people, his path gets surprisingly blocked by a huge stone-wall brute, the lanky tailed figure gets knocked back a bit due to the impact, the brute could be seen wearing the same attire as the other two, only in larger size. All the activity in the town stopped in an instant, chatters ended, hammers stopped mid swing, and carriages stopping in their tracks, the people began to form a large circle around the confrontation, with Plasma having a first row stand at the scene, the other two began to make their advances and stopping when they were at a good distance from the face masked thief, the hooded figure holding a pocket knife begins to speak:

-”Give us back our stuff and we’ll act like nothing happened,” quickly after he said that he gets smacked in the back of the head by the figure with the pouch, an annoyed whisper can be heard between them “are you kidding me? ‘Like nothing happened’?? don’t you see the entire god damn town around us? Let me handle this,” he cleared his throat and shouted “Give us back the pouch buddy…” he took a knife straight out his pocket and begins to show it off, its a cleansilver knife, visibly sharp enough to cut air and had such a glossy surface, that every ray the sun could send on it would reflect, “or else,” he smugly added.

His demand is answered by a long silence, that gets quickly interrupted by a snap of the fingers of one of the figures, the 2 start charging in screaming as the large brute began to throw a heavy punch at the lanky thief, which he dodged making the brute create a crater in the pebbled road glueing his fist in the ground, as they reached closer in for a strike, the thief quickly wrapped his tail around the leg of the silver knife wielding bandit and pulls towards them, making him fall onto the ground dropping his knife, the pocket knife bandit tried to get a strike in but tripped on his partner’s body head first, then the brute that was still unsuccessful in freeing his fist, got climbed upon by the thief, the brute tried to smack him as he climbed up with his other hand, only to miss and directly strike his own empty skull, making him fall graciously on the other two creating a loud rumble, making even some of the distant animals flee farther into the forests.

The crowd was silent, the only noise being heard was the rumble of whatever was inside the horned thief’s dark blue pouch, and their steps as they went in to grab the bandits heavy drawstring pouch, he attached it to his belt and continued to walk in his original direction, only to be quickly startled by the rapidly approaching sounds of armours rattling as the towns guards arrive, “Stop right there criminal scum!” said one of the armoured swordsmen.

The thief can be heard sighing, only to then shout in an annoyed tone “I did you idiots a favour” as he once more began to run away past the still stunned crowd, but not Plasma, she had a look of determination in her eyes that she wont let this person get away without an answer, shortly after she too began to run in the same direction, trying to get to the lanky thief.

The guards looked at each other for a moment, “so, what now?” asked the armoured swordsman, his mates looked at him in confusion at his question “they’re supposed to stop dead in their tracks when we say that no?” he added, swiftly getting smacked in the helmet by the chief guard, “No you idiot, half of you run in that thief’s direction, the rest of us will put these bandits where they belong”.

The chase was on, with Plasma hot on the thieves tail, dodging and making her way past the available crevices between the wall of people, trying to keep the thief in her field of view, the longer they ran, the more the road got emptier, the stone path slowly turning into it’s dirt counterpart, the amount of people reducing with every step, the sounds of chatter and trades growing ever so silent as the numbers of old and empty market stands, old empty cottage houses, messy overgrowth and crossroads leading to dead ends grew.

The only noises being heard were the clinks and clanks of potions on her belt, the loud steps of the two runners, and their breath of the growing heavier by the step, until in an instant the horned figure made a sharp right turn behind one of the decaying houses, with plasma doing the same.

She entered the narrow path, slowing down her pace and looking around for the thief, they were gone, but in her rush she didn’t immediately realize the filth she was in, varying shades of green and murky dark blues were everywhere, on the dirt she was standing on, the stone walls of the broken down house she was behind of, that had moss covering most of the available crevice, but before she could make a complete understanding of the place, a dark snake-like tail made its way from behind the stone wall, wrapped around her right ankle, and quickly pulled in the wall’s direction causing her to fall face first onto the ground, dazed, she tried to lift herself up, her attempt was in vain as she got tackled by the masked thief, it spoke in a tired and frustrated tone:

-”Okay hero, why the hell-”

The speech got interrupted by Plasma managing to free one of her arms from their tackle, striking the side of their head with her elbow.

-”OW,” they responded to the blow, quickly trying to touch the part struck, giving Plasma the opportunity to turn the tables on her side and get atop the thief. The thief trying to break free asked in frustration:

-”What the hell do you want?!”

-”This.” she answered stronglly, while using one of her hands to remove their mask.

The face mask was removed, which caused a brief moment of silence to be shared between them, under the mask there was a visibly shocked and confused demon, with a rounder face shape and chin bestowed with a slight sharpness to it, that had a skin tone lighter in colour than his pure black mask:

-”Demon dude??” Plasma asked shocked while still holding his mask.

-”Uhh? Pink lady?” he asked in confusion.

During their standstill, the sounds of clanking armours rapidly approaching could be heard, their stand-off gets quickly interrupted by the demon’s tail wrapping around the elementals stomach and getting pulled off of him with force, they both get up, stare at each other and as the sounds of the approaching guards, they silently agreed to hide somewhere.

Both went inside the wore down house through a massive hole in the wall, they waited while staying at a distance from each other.

The guards finally arrived, they looked around for a while before the swordsman spoke, with a slight annoyance sprinkled in his tone:

-”Damnit, I think they got away,”

One asked curiously “And are we.. not gonna pursue further?”

The swords man laughed and replied ”Are you insane? You wanna go father than this? Be my guest man, but I’m going home,” the other guardsmen vocally agreed in unison, and began going back on their tracks and as they left, the sound of chatter and clanking armours began to fade.

As Plasma stood next to the hole in the wall, she began looking around the broken house, although the house was still courageously holding its shape, the signs of ageing were clear, the hole in the stone wall, the hay roof being held by tired beams of old wood, broken down windows, the decaying wooden flooring being invaded by a mixture of overgrowth and cobwebs in every corner and for some reason an old table and chair were there as well

The demon looked through the worn down window of the house to make sure the guards were gone, before he took a seat onto the wooden chair

-”So, care to explain why you were chasing me?” he asked while fiddling with the dark blue pouch he stole from the bandits.

-”Well it was mainly for an answer,” she responded

-”An answer?” he repeated, baffled, “well this better be a damn good question,” he added, “Go ahead,”

-”Are you Vorichi Ironhood?”

His fiddling with the pouch abruptly stopped, “Vorichi Ironhood,” he repeated in a low tone as he looked into space,“I haven't heard that name in ages,” he added, he looked at her and asked “What makes you think I’d be this ‘Vorichi Ironhood’ that you’re looking for miss?”

She took out one of the, now crumbled, wanted posters from the news board and showed it to him “This” she commented.

He got up from the chair and took the crumbled paper out of her hand, “A wanted poster?” he said, he began to whisper parts of the poster under his breath “ Bounty … Ironhood … Wanted Alive … 50 gold- 50 Gold??” his face was stunned, before he said out loud in a shocked and disgusted tone, “Are, all the crimes I’ve committed here only worth 50 gold??” he looked at the paper for another second before disappointedly handed her back the paper while saying under his breath in disbelief, “50 gold, 50 gold, 50 Lord Damned Gold??are you kidding me?!” he looked at Plasma in an attempt to prove a point “I’ve had towns where the bounty on me was over 500 gold just to find me, to find me, not what’s the price of a silver bar,” he groaned while sitting back on the chair with his hands on his face, he asked:

-“Was this really the only reason you came after me?”

-”Well at first yeah,” she answered honestly “But I think your personality is worth far more than 50 gold maybe at 350 gold I’d reconsider.”

-”Thank you for the generous price range” he replied sarcastically “So is there anything else you’d like to know?” he asked, “before we say goodbye and never speak again?”

-”You said you do crimes, what kind?”

Voirchi grabbed the dark blue pouch stolen from the bandits and dangled it by its string in front her “I’ll let you guesss” he answered.

-”Alright, you steal, what’s next?”

-”Well simply put: once I steal, I sell it and give the gold to those in need.”

-”Oh” she was surprised by the answer, “So you’re like “Steal from the rich, give to the poor” kind of thief?”

-”Eeh not quite,” he put the dark blue pouch on the table before he grabbed the brown pouch off his belt and smugly shook it a little, “I do take my cut during the process,” he said.

-”Oh,” a slight tint of disappointment could be heard.

-”Gotta keep myself afloat somehow,” he responded.

For a moment she got interested in the dark blue pouch and asked ”What in that pouch anyway?”

He chuckled for a second, “Peaked your interest huh? Well lets see” he proceeded to open the pouch, revealing a bunch of small rocks, of varying sizes and shapes, with some symbols engraved in them

He went ahead and began explaining while fiddling with one of them in his hand “You see these runes? There were “found” in the dungeons on Wind Fall, they sell for a pretty penny, though kind of stupid for anyone to sell them here since they’re too high level for the common town’s folk, these sell far better up north of where they were “found””

Confused, she asked “How do you know all this?”

-”Straight from the source, the idiots realized their mistake and so when one person got interested, they did anything to make a trade, good thing I was there,” he smugly laughed, he continued, “Say, during our little confrontation, I noticed you had a rune bracelet, am I wrong?”

She quickly touched her wrist to make sure it was still there, and nods.

He began searching through the pouch while continuing the conversation, ”So, Level 1 forest rune huh? I’d be a good time to change it don’t you think?”

Before she could say her answer she got cut off when the demon found what he was searching for:

-”Here, catch,” he said while he threw a rune at her, she fumbled a bit but managed to get a good grip on it, it was a rune about the same size as the one she already had on her bracelet. The rune was small, warm and rectangular in shape and made of smooth stone but had ragged edges in certain corners, a quick look at the top and she could see some engravings on the rune, small and carefully engraved.

She was unsure what they meant but the heat it was emitting and its reddish glow was a dead giveaway.

-”A fire rune?”

-”You bet, noticed your whole flame hair thing you got going on, so why not” he explained.

-”Well, thanks” she said.

There was a silence between them while he tied the pouch and attached it to his belt, preparing to leave though the hole in the wall.

-“Wait, can I pay you for this?” she asked the leaving demon.

-”Nah, don’t worry, I got a few to spare so its free of charge,” he answered, shorty after he added “Oh and trust me, that worth more than 50 gold”

She looked at her bracelets forest rune, before exchanging it for the fire rune and began going back home.

A few good minutes of walking go by, and as the sun and its clouds were preparing to exchange places with the moon and its stars, she finally arrived at her beloved home, she gently opened the door, and just as gently closed it once she got inside, she gets startled by her brother’s exited voice

-”Plasma!!” he gets a good grip on her arm before saying just as excitedly “I have to show you something!” a quick run to his room, past the tables and messy papers everywhere, she gets brought to the table he slept on that morning, the table had two glass domes sitting close to each other, one with just the dark rose, looking the same as when it was first found, with the bulb standing tall, seemingly planted in some new soil, and the other one having all its original purple withered dirt.

-”What is this?” she asked.

-”Science!” he responded with an electric flair in his eyes “Watch,” he said.

He began moving the two domes away from each other and the effects of this action had an immediate impact on the rose, with one step closer to perishing with each increase in distance, making the stem no longer able to hold the bulb up straight even if it was trying its hardest, “And now” the scientist added, he then began moving the domes closer and closer to each other, the rose could be seen quickly rejuvenating as though death gave it another chance at life, the elemental watching this for the first time let out an audible “wow.”

-”I know, I made the same reaction the first time!” he responded. ”Now we’ve got something on our hands,” he began to let go of the domes and quickly tried to tidy up around the table during which he suggests to his sibling “So with this information I’d like to make some more visits to that forest, not tomorrow but soon, care to join me?”

-”Absolutely.”

#writing #oc #pixel art #new to writing

0 notes

s-zizzle · 2 years

Text

sunflowers end up facing the sun, but they go through a lot of dirt to find their way there. 🌻🖤

0 notes

yearsgiven-a · 3 years

Text

"i’m so tired of the toxic masculinity in this hallway!” / @wyhlds - from blake

thea looks down the hall where there’s is a strange display happening. a group of guys who seem halfway to a fight...or they’re friends caught in some strange hug...she’s truly unsure. all she knows is that they’re doing it very loudly and not being very sneaky about checking to see if any nearby ladies are watching. it’s not cute. turning back to blake and sticks her tongue out as if she’s going to throw up, “ all of that seems exhausting. is this like...some weird new mating ritual i should know about ? ” she questions before making the mistake of looking back over and accidentally catching one they eyes of one of them who then proceeds to wink. “ nope, no, we gotta go, lets enjoy our coffee anywhere but here now please. ”

meme ; cringy riverdale / status ; accepting

#wyhlds #i don't know what this is buT I HOPE ITS OKAY #🌻 ❝ now i’m begging for footnotes in the story of your life ❞ ⸢ ic / answered ⸥#🌻 ❝ sunflowers end up facing the sun but they go through a lot of dirt to find their way there ❞ ⸢ verse tbd ⸥

2 notes · View notes

xneverpeacex · 3 years

Text

( new ) thea tags

0 notes

bookiedoodles · 2 years

Text

“Sunflowers end up facing the sun, but they go through a lot of dirt to find their way there.” -J.R. Rim

#huntlow #willow park #hunter the golden guard #the owl house #toh hunter #hunter toh #toh willow #toh huntlow #winter #also a new watermark eyyyy #doodle bug #edit: I messed up the quote LOL #double check your shit kids

411 notes · View notes

stardewtales · 3 years

Note

Your shane x reader are some of the first I read when i got into sdv, and they still hold a li special place in my heart <3 I love the way you wrote shane, jas, and the farmer (you kept the farmer rather neutral, but you still gave her moments of personality, rlly great stuff!), anyway, I'd love any shane related stuff you would do, but if your looking for a request, the reader teaching him abt farming/gardening (planting hot peppers together eee) i think would be rlly cute-ok bye lysm!!!

A/N: hey lovely!! If you're still around, thank you so much for this. I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to get to your request, but here it is! Hope it lives up to your expectations xx

Shane can feel you hovering behind him.

"What is it," he groans, not bothering to turn around.

"Sorry," he hears you say. "Just, be careful with the roots, please? I don't want all your work to be for nothing."

Well, he can't exactly fault you for that. If anything, he's ashamed because he was distracted while you showed him the whole thing about the roots.

He turns to look at you. "Would you, uh... mind showing me again?"

His stomach twists as you smile at him, thoroughly amused. "Sure thing. Here, let me get in there..."

You kneel beside him, knees firmly planted in the dirt beside his. You proceed to show him how to dig around the roots instead of into them for a second time that afternoon. For a second time, he finds it hard to focus with you so close, but he fights that a little harder this time.

"Here," you hand him back the trowel, "give it another shot."

He can't miss the way the look you give him is so damn encouraging. You've given him plenty of variations on that look by now, with various degrees of concern thrown into the mix. He proceeds to try digging up the pepper plant again, the sun boring down on the back of his neck as he does it.

"Am I getting it right, now?" he asks, glancing up at you quickly.

"Couldn't do it better myself," you nod exaggeratedly, and he fakes throwing dirt at you in retaliation.

It gets a laugh out of you, clear and joyful. It stirs something inside him, the feeling that's been nagging at him sort of often these days. It hits him like a ton of bricks in that moment that this is the feeling he used to chase all the way down the bottles, the sort of rush he used to think would make up for everything else.

He must've made a face when he realized it, because your brows furrow in concern.

"Are you o-" you start, but you're cut off short by a girlish squeal further down the field.

Him and you both shoot up, surveying the surroundings.

"Jas?" you half-shout, concerned.

"I think I need some help," her voice pipes up sheepishly, and the two of you finally spot her, fallen on her butt among the sunflowers.

You huff, relieved, and tell him you've got it with a brief touch on his arm before you leave in Jas's direction. Now that he knows she's not hurt, he can go back to making sense of his thoughts, yet he barely registers the lingering feeling of your fingers on his forearm.

He kneels and gets back to work, distraught. His first instinct is to worry. The therapist Harvey connected him with cautioned him pretty early on about the way some addicts replaced one addiction with another, and that all good things should perhaps be enjoyed in moderation while he was on the road to recovery.

You're the best thing in his life by far, but he failed to keep you at arm's length a long time ago now. He's not dense enough to be unaware that he's developed some pretty strong feelings for you. But this particular feeling is new-ish, and he doesn't quite know what to make of it. As his fingers dig up the pepper plant out of the ground and he gently removes chunks of dirt from the roots, Shane hopes really hard this doesn't mean he's allowed himself to veer all the way of the right path he's been trying so hard to stick to.

He hates to think about it, but maybe he needs to cool off on seeing you so often so he can at least get a grip. He can't even recall the last time he went a day without seeing you. Sometime in the spring, probably? It's the very end of summer now.

After he's transferred the plant to the wheelbarrow, Shane stands up and looks around. You're still helping Jas uproot some sunflowers, even though her initial job was just to collect the stray seeds. Officially, he and her were there to help you wrap up the summer crops so you could transfer some to your greenhouse. In reality, he was helping you; Jas was causing more trouble than she was helping, but you didn't seem to mind at all, more than happy to show her over and over how to handle things properly.

He didn't know how you did it. It's like you had an endless well of patience, and he knew he ought to have reached the pit of it by now. And yet, he had not. There were depths to your kindness that reached far enough that even after dealing with him through his recovery, you still had plenty left for Jas in all her fumblings and ill-advised adventures.

For the rest of the afternoon Shane managed to clear his mind and just keep working somewhat efficiently. Marnie came around just before dinnertime to get Jas, who was too exhausted from running around by then to protest. Marnie had also let him know she'd save him a portion of dinner for when he came home, but to take his time, which he'd made sure to thank her for.

It wasn't long until Jas left before you and him moved on to replanting the uprooted plants into the greenhouse. He liked that part more than the digging up; liked the hazy warmth of the greenhouse more than the blaring heat of the field. The two of you worked mostly in silence, both exhausted, him perhaps more than you.

After you planted the last of yours and he was halfway through his own last plant, he heard you clap your hands together to shake the dirt off your gloves, before you fully shrieked.

"What's wrong?" he quickly turned towards you.

"Your neck!" you replied, walking over to him. "Did you not put on sunscreen like I told you to?"

Shane instinctively reaches for the back of his neck, and while the sunburn doesn't hurt yet, he can feel the tell-tale heat coming off of it.

"Ah, shit. Think I missed a spot."

You tut at him, shooing his hand off so you can take a better look.

"You big idiot," you chastise him affectionately. "You're lucky I have an infinite amount of aloe in the house from last summer."

**************

As Shane steps out of the shower and into your steam-filled bathroom, he can already tell he'll be sore from all this work. He doesn't know how you do this every day. He tries to get a look at himself in the mirror, but it's too fogged up. Probably better that way, he thinks.

He's used your shower plenty of times before, and he's glad that at the very least it doesn't feel as awkward as it used to. While he was still in the pits of getting sober, you'd graciously let him stay over on your couch so Jas didn't have to see him struggle when it got too hard. He still doesn't know why you did that, or how to repay you for it.

After putting on his clothes, he steps out into your living room, where you're waiting for him with a huge tub of the goo you intend to smear on his sunburn. You've showered too, and made him do it after you because otherwise you claimed he'd just wash off the aloe later, which was probably right.

"C'mere," you beckon him over to sit on the arm of your couch.

He chuckles. It's funny to him, how bossy you get when you're trying to take care of him. Nevertheless, he does as he's told and dutifully sits down like you instruct him. And waits.

Nothing happens.

"You okay back there?" he asks, looking over his shoulder.

You raise a brow. "Aren't you gonna take off your shirt? How am I supposed to get this on you otherwise?"

He feels a bubble of panic rush up. He's in better shape than he used to be, but he's still not much to look at, and he doesn't like the idea of you finding that out like this. "Is that really necessary?"

You sigh, and he knows there will be no convincing you. He feels the tips of his ears burn as he lifts his shirt over his head, dropping it at his feet and taking precious care not to look back at you. "Happy?" he mumbles.

"Hmhm," you hum quietly behind him.

You bring your aloe-coated fingers to his burning skin, and instantly he feels consumed by ice-cold flames. He was not prepared for you to touch him quite so gently, to work the gel into his skin in tiny, careful circles. His throat runs dry as he's reminded of his earlier conclusion that he needs to take some time away from you, for both of your sakes. If the way his body is reacting to this isn't proof, he doesn't know what would be.

You let him know you're done, and he promptly puts his shirt back on. He wishes he hadn't when the stickiness gets a hold of the collar.

"So, just a heads up," you start, screwing the jar of aloe vera shut, "I'm gonna be really busy tomorrow I think. So maybe hanging out in the evening when I'm done would be better?"

He's taken aback by the way this is coming up faster than he anticipated. Still, No time like the present I guess, he thinks to himself.

"About that," he clears his throat, "I think it might be better if I spend some alone time for a while."

He watches you still. You look up at him slowly, visibly confused. "Have I done something wrong?" you ask, and it kills him. "I'm sorry if I have, I know I can be a little overbearing sometimes," you start to ramble, but he cuts you off.

"No, no, none of that," he tries to reassure you. "It's just, uh, how do I say this," he scratches at his head, genuinely at a loss. "Remember how I told you my therapist said I should, like, maybe be careful about things I enjoy a lot? And about... strong emotions?"

You nod, but he can tell from your slight frown you're still confused.

"Well, it's kinda like that. I feel really good when I'm with you. Maybe a little too good. Strong stuff. But I don't wanna depend on you to feel... good. I wanna keep this healthy, yeah?"

You ponder his words, and he can tell he hasn't really gotten his point across. "I mean, I think I get where you're coming from, maybe? But Shane, I think it's okay for you to have a support system. Is it really so bad if being with a friend makes you feel good? I think that's how most people feel."

He shakes his head, huffing. "No, it's not like that."

"Then what is it like?"

His eyes meet yours, and he feels weak. "Please don't make me say it," he whispers.

"Shane," you reach out to touch his shoulder, "You're worrying me."

He swallows. Before he knows it, it tumbles out of him. "I have feelings for you. I have for a while. And lately it's gotten a little out of control. So I need some time away from you to get over it, okay? I don't want things to be weird. I need you too much to have things be weird. So I need to figure it out before it gets there."

You stare at him, and he sees so many emotions run across your face that he gets dizzy.

"You... what?" you say quietly after a while.

He feels heat rise from his chest all the way to his ears, like some twisted type of nausea. "Forget it, alright? That's not the point I'm trying to make. I just..." he breathes, "I'll see you in a few days, yeah?"

He doesn't wait for a response. He goes for the door right away, in a real hurry to leave this place where everything is so blatantly yours, down to the smell of your lotion lingering in the air from your bare legs.

But you don't let him leave. He feels your hand on his arm, a real grip this time, and the next thing he knows you're reaching for his neck and bringing his mouth to meet yours. Shane thinks he's forgotten how to make his blood run, how to make his lungs breathe, how to make his limbs move. You're pressing your lips on his with a fervor he didn't even know you had in you. Then, with an instinct of its own, his body kicks back into gear, and he feels himself wrapping his arms around you, bringing you closer yet as he pours all the energy he has left into kissing you back.

It's desperation that compels him, because he never imagined this would ever happen outside of his mind, outside of his daydreams. He's not even convinced he'll ever get to do it again, so he's making this one count.

He genuinely has no idea how much time has passed when you break away from him, panting. You're not saying anything, just searching his eyes with yours.

"Please say something," he eventually breathes.

He watches as you swallow, then exhale loudly. "I don't want to see you in a few days only. I wanna see you now and in the middle of the night and every moment of every day. I don't want you to go and get over me, because I don't think I'll be able to get over you if you do, Shane. So don't leave me. Stay. Please."

Your words fluster him a great deal more than he already is. "Okay," he nods, in a half-daze.

"Yeah?" you make sure, still catching your breath.

"Yeah," he confirms. "Anything for you. Of course."

#shane x reader #shane x farmer #stardew shane #sdv shane #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley shane #stardew valley #sdv

1K notes · View notes

alwaysmarveling · 3 years

Text

Call Me Back

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Warnings: death, a small sexual innuendo, and lots of commas and long sentences

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: You and Wanda promised each other you would always call to check in, and Wanda’s going to do her best to keep that promise, no matter what.

The first time you met Wanda was… well, when was the first time you met Wanda? Was it when wisps of red flashed in front of your eyes, projecting images so horrific and lifelike that you all but collapsed in a heartbeat? Or was it when she stepped forward to shake your hand timidly, grief and determination filling the witch as she promised to make up for it?

“I- I wouldn’t have done it if I… we were just trying…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you had told her with a smile before confiding in her about your own missteps, how you’d wreaked havoc on all of New York with your powers of body modification after your own parents died, how Fury finally got the Avengers to catch you, and how they quickly became your new family.

“You mean they really almost burned the kitchen down trying to make you a birthday cake?” The brunette giggled later that night as you recounted the story of your sixteenth birthday, the two of you sitting comfortably beside each other on the living room sofa.

“Yup. And when Nat showed up with an ice cream cake fifteen minutes later to find smoke in the living room, Sam told me she freaked on everyone.”

“Excuse me, Y/N, I did not do any ‘freaking.’ God, is that what you teenagers are calling it now?” The two of you erupted into laughter, and the redhead could do nothing more than shake her head, a smirk playing on her lips no matter how hard she tried to conceal it.

---

Much like Nat and Steve predicted, the two of you became fast friends. You sat next to each other on movie nights, sang karaoke in your room when you thought everyone else was asleep (if they weren’t awake when you started, they certainly were once you were thirty seconds into Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody”), and, much to Steve’s dismay, when you finally became confident with your ability to grow wings on your back, snuck out regularly for late-night flights around the compound.

But you also insisted on being there for Wanda’s training sessions, even if it meant you had to wake up an hour earlier. You cradled the witch in your arms when she woke up night after night with an aching hole in her heart before you eventually insisted you guys just share a room. And you promised her, above everything else, that when you went out for anything, whether it be a quick grocery run or a month-long mission, you’d let her know you were okay.

You knew the promise she pleaded you to make was a result of the anxiety she suffered. She’d lost everyone she cared about; if a simple text or call was enough to put her at ease, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

---

“Wanda,” you’d whispered, the teen immediately sitting up straight when she’d heard the cracks in your voice. “I- I don’t know what to do. I’m safe, but...” She told you to stay there, don’t move, she’d be there in minutes. And, with your brain unable to function enough to think of any other option, you listened.

Her heart broke at the sight of you, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself and your head hung, you feet occasionally kicking the wet sidewalk. The neon sign of the restaurant your date had promised to meet you at illuminated one side of your face, allowing her to see the tears that you had tried but failed so desperately to hold in. But the witch didn’t let you see her emotions, instead whisking you away from the unfamiliar section of the city, brushing the tears off of your cheeks and bringing you to the twenty-four-hour diner for milkshakes. She made a fool of herself in front of the waitstaff until tears flowed from your eyes once again, but this time, the crystalline drops rolled down your raised cheeks, aching from smiling too hard.

When you had a panic attack during training because you couldn’t get one of your body modification attempts to reverse—”Wanda, I cannot be stuck with claws for hands, I can’t!”—she refused to let you hang up until the steady sounds of her own breathing calmed you down, the sharp nails receding and making way for the soft pads of your very human fingertips.

And when she called you after the mission in Lagos, you worked tirelessly to complete your own solo mission as soon as you could. You returned to the tower to find her holed up in the bedroom, news broadcasts playing nonstop on the television to remind her of the horrors she’d committed; accident or not, she told you, she needed to hold herself accountable. You simply shook your head at her, holding out your hand without another word. She didn’t take it at first.

“You can’t fix it, Y/N. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you.” She was expecting you to fight her back on it, yell at her and demand that she take your hand, or perhaps you’d go the complete opposite direction and leave her alone, let her be swallowed by guilt and anguish, rip open old wounds and form new ones as she thought of how she tore apart families that were probably much like her own. You did neither.

Wanda’s green eyes remained fixed on your outstretched hand. You stayed silent, one eyebrow cocked as if daring her to see what would happen should she choose not to take it. It was only then that she realized, for once in her life, the person she most loved wasn’t leaving; the support she so desperately needed wouldn’t be yanked away from her when it was mere centimeters from her grasp.

So she rested her fingers in the palm of your hand, and you pulled her out to the balcony where the two of you had spent night after night watching the stars instead of sleeping, making up funny names for each of them and rolling in fits of laughter that only came to those delirious and sleep-deprived enough to understand just what was so funny. Except, this time, instead of dropping into the oversized beanbag chair that was the usual spot of your stargazing shenanigans, she watched curiously as you removed your shirt. Her mouth dropped as you closed your eyes and allowed the white feathers to emerge from beside the ridges of your spine. Although it was a process she’d seen several times before, your modifications had never ceased to amaze her, and your angel-like wings had always been her favorite. The witch admired the additions as you allowed them to flap slowly, once, twice, before turning back to her.

“Let’s go,” you finally spoke, the order gentle but leaving no room for negotiation.

“Where are we going?”

“Away.” That was enough for the brunette, who squeezed your hand before following your lead. She allowed you to guide her through the maze of clouds and couldn’t help but smile softly as the sun’s rays hit your face at just the right angle. You wore the exhaustion from your recent mission on your face, and streaks of dirt covered the bruises that she was sure littered your body. But she was content, in awe, because you were you. You didn’t put up walls to hide your scars from the world, didn’t use passive-aggressiveness to hide the passion that burned in your heart. At the end of the day, you were good, purely and truly good. You were an angel; even the sun knew it.

What Wanda didn’t realize, but what you taught her that night, as she sat surrounded by sunflowers, the moon, thousands of gleaming stars, and the tickle of your feathers as your wing pulled her close to you, was that she was one too.

“I’m glad you called me,” you whispered, your eyes not leaving the open sky as you pointed out a particularly bright spot. “I’m gonna call that one… Philip. He looks regal, real proud. Look at him, so much brighter than the others, and he knows it too.” The witch breathed out a soft chuckle, stroking her fingers over your feathers as she responded.

“I’m glad I called you too. And I think Philip is a good name for him. What about that one?”

“Hmm… Walter? He’s a bit more serious, I think. But you see the one next to him?” You waited until you got a nod from the girl before continuing. “That’s his sister. She makes sure he has fun, even when he says he doesn’t want to. But you name her, Wands. Naming stars is a two-person job, you know.” She squeezed the elbow that you nudged her with before giving in.

“Alright… that’s Delia. And, yeah, she’s the best. The life of the party. Walter keeps her grounded, though,” Wanda added, to which you agreed to with a hum. You two fell quiet after that, enjoying the comfortable silence and looking up at the twinkling lights, some of them gaining names and stories, others waiting to be named another night.

“Wanda?”

“Yeah?”

“You call me if you ever need me, okay? I know we started this with me calling you, but I’m here for you too.” The witch met your eyes with a firm bob of her head, but you continued, desperate to make sure she understood. “And if I don’t pick up at first, you call me back, okay? Call me until I respond, promise?”

“I promise,” Wanda soothed gently. “I will.”

“Okay, good, good. Because,” Wanda felt a brush of your feathers against her upper arm as you fluttered your wings, slightly agitated, “because I think I love you. I mean, um, I know. I know I love you. I love you. Yeah, I-” Wanda shut you up with a kiss, her lips pressed urgently against yours. And if you hadn’t lost your breath from your rambling or your declaration of love to the girl of your dreams, then you most definitely lost it as your lips melted into hers, in the comforting warmth of her palm against your cheek, and in the words that left her mouth as you finally pulled apart, breathless.

“I will, Y/N, I promise. Because I love you too.”

---

People thought you were inseparable before you started dating, but they all realized how wrong they were after that night. The two twin beds quickly became a queen-sized mattress, sideline support during training sessions became fierce yet playful spars, and the private giggles you guys shared grew tenfold. Fury wasn’t exactly happy that his unofficial daughter was now dating, but he was pleased by how efficiently the two of you worked together, which led you to this moment, the two of you covering the Quinjet while waiting for the rest of the Avengers to finish their business inside the massive Hydra base. With Wanda covering the ground and you in the sky, flying with the white-feathered wings that Wanda loved so dearly, the two of you held off the swarms of Hydra agents relatively well. With a small break in between incoming agents, Wanda looked up to check on you, but she was a moment too late. Before she could even think to warn you, the pure feathers she loved to brush her fingers through fell from the sky, the white stained with red, your screams ripping through her eardrums.

No one, including Wanda, had time to think as she exploded with a new rage, one that hadn’t run through her in years. One that she hoped she would never experience again, but here she was. And there you were.

While you were held in the air by her signature red mist, the opposing agents fell to the ground. She didn’t care about their screams, only yours. And with them all dealt with, she could turn to you, rushing you both into the Quinjet and yelling for the other Avengers to get back here, now.

But her efforts were futile. She could press down on the wounds all she wanted, beg for you to come back until her voice was nothing more than a whisper, but nothing would work. You were gone the instant the missile had hit you, and as much as Wanda wanted to deny the truth, she knew it just as much as your other teammates did when they rushed onto the Quinjet. You were gone before you could say a single goodbye.

---

The first time Wanda called was from your shared bedroom. She dialed your number before tracing the pillow where your head would have laid, running her fingers over the cartoon carrots that covered the comforter. The yellow bedding set was a gag gift Tony had gotten the two of you when you got your new bed.

“You know, since I figure the two of you will be going at it like rabbits,” he winked before getting immediately smacked in the back of the head by Steve.

“They will be doing no such thing,” the supersoldier had chastised him with a roll of his eyes. “God, Stark, sometimes I forget you have a brain when you say such stupid things.”

But you loved it, telling Wanda, “The carrots remind me of you, Bunny.” And how could she return the present when you were being so sweet about it? But the sheets didn’t make her smile in the same way they once did because you were gone. No one was there to tease her about the way her nose wiggled much like the little white fluffy creatures or promise to get her carrots from the market the next day.

The call went to voicemail, and as bittersweet as it was, Wanda savored it because it was you. Your voice. But the beep came far too soon, and your turn was done. So she spoke.

“Y/N, hey, it’s me, Wanda. I, um, I love you. I’ll always love you, yeah?” The witch put the phone down, thinking that was all she could bear to say as the lump in her throat ballooned in size and hot tears filled her eyes. But just before time was up, her hand shot up to press the device against her ear again. “Call me back, milaya.”

---

The second time Wanda called was from the balcony. The brunette eyed the sparkling diamonds that filled the sky, wondering how you could be gone when, the last time she was here, you were right there beside her, laughing over the boys’ latest shenanigans and Ned, the newly named star.

Now, the beanbag chair felt too big, too empty without another person sitting next to her. Without you. So she dialed your number, the only number she bothered to learn by heart, and waited for the dulcet tones of your voice. As the dial tone rang, she ran one hand over the white feather that laid gingerly in her lap. Natasha had given it to her along with several others a few days after your death. Each of the team members had one to remember you by, but the spy had picked out the biggest and most brilliant ones to give to Wanda.

“I know how much her wings meant to you-” Natasha stiffened as Wanda threw her arms around her. But the witch didn’t care, her tears soaking the redhead’s shirt as she tried to find the words to thank her. She couldn’t, but it was okay. Natasha knew anyway. Wanda had little time to reflect on the memory before her face brightened at the sound of your voice.

“Hi, this is Y/N-

“And her girlfriend, Wanda! She’s taken, so don’t even think about it, you jerk!” Wanda smiled slightly at your jubilant laughter, remembering how you’d pushed her away for interrupting you.

“I’m not available right now, but leave me your name, number, and message and I’ll call you back as soon as I can, okay? Talk to you soon.” The witch’s eyes closed slightly as the greeting ended with a spell of your giggles before it was interrupted by that damn beep. God, how she hated that beep. Nevertheless, she took a breath and spoke out into the clear night sky, looking up at the stars as she did so.

“Hi, lyubov moya, it’s me. Wanda. I’m calling you back, just like you told me to. I’m not okay. I need you. I love you.” Her breath caught in her throat, forcing her to pause for a moment, but she forced herself to keep going a second later. “Sam and Bucky did the stupidest thing today. Nat and Steve were all over their asses. You should’ve seen it. I miss you. Please, call me back. I’ll tell you all about it.”

---

The last time Wanda called was from the sunflower field. The two of you hadn’t been here since the night you told her you loved her. In fact, it took Wanda several hours to find it since she hadn’t been paying much attention to the route the first time you came.

Once again, the night was clear, the stars lighting up the dark canvas with their radiance. She missed the feeling of your wing wrapped around her, of your presence next to her. But she had one of your feathers in her fingers and your voice in her ear, and to ask for more would be greedy, right?

“Hi, angel. It’s Wanda. I’m calling you back to leave a message, but I can’t do it again after this because I don’t want your voicemail to fill up, okay? I’m sorry, I know I’m being selfish, but I need to be able to hear your voice, so I can’t let it fill up. But I haven’t forgotten you, I promise I haven’t. I never will. I’m still-” Wanda swallowed, a fighting effort to calm the waver in her voice. “I’m still not okay, but I’m trying. For you. But I’m not okay, I need you to call me back. I’ve named one up there Halia, but her twin sister needs a name. And naming stars is a two-person job, you know.” The witch sniffed once as the corner of her lip curved up slightly, remembering the playfulness in your voice when you’d first said the line. “Call me back, Y/N, please.”

With the message over, Wanda clutched the phone to her chest, her breaths becoming faster and shallower as she closed her eyes, trying to accept the knowledge that it’d be the last time she’d ever leave a message, the knowledge that she was really losing you… the knowledge that she already lost you.

---

Months went by. Wanda wasn’t sure how they did, but they did. The first sign of it was the first Halloween without you, as she saw the other couples dressing up in matching costumes that you would’ve loved, costumes you would’ve pointed out to Wanda with an excited bounce and told her you’d have to wear next year. The next was Thanksgiving, when Wanda ran through the list of everything she was thankful for and came up short when she thought about the people she still had left. And then it was Christmas, and Valentine’s Day, and the first day of summer.

And while Wanda did her best to move on, she always found herself under the stars, dialing your number. She sat on the balcony, in the sunflower field, wherever she could see the sky, and she listened to your voice telling her that you’d call her back as soon as you could, always forcing herself to hang up a second before the beep could cut you off. Wanda named every other star she saw, leaving the ones in between for you and hoping that you’d approve of the names she chose.

“I’m naming that one Angel for you, Y/N,” Wanda murmured. “It’s even brighter than Philip. It’s the brightest star in the sky. I know you think it’s silly to name things after people, but this one’s just special, so you’re gonna have to make an exception, okay?” The brunette’s lips stopped moving, but her eyes stayed wide open as she watched the star as if, if she watched it long enough, studied it hard enough, you would materialize from its luminescence. As if you would come back to her. But when you didn’t, she finally allowed her watering eyes to rest, her eyelids drooping to surround her in darkness.

“I’m not okay, Y/N.” The witch’s voice was softer than it had ever been, more tired. But this time, there was no one to whisk her off and make her forget the heaviness of it all. “I need you so badly. I love you so much. I always will. But, please, angel, call me back.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #avengers x reader #marvel #mcu #I wrote something #alwaysmarveling

483 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

In the Weeds

Ransom + ‘reader likes to garden and neighbor likes to watch’ as requested by @siren-kitten-his

Finally got this done and it’s just smut, y’all, dark and dirty smut.

Warnings: noncon, sabotage, Ransom being his asshole self. As usual, your consumption is your responsibility. If you read these warnings and proceed, that’s your decision and any asks on the matter will be summarily defeated. If you can read 2000 words, you can read a warning.

Anyways, enjoy this little drabbling and have a great day, boo bears.

For weeks you’d been coming to the large house hidden away behind the winding driveway, trees carefully lined its borders. Weeks and you had yet to met its owner. On your first day, instructions had been left in a letter beside a bottle of water. The list was typed out and terse. A roster of duties.

Every Sunday you drove up the carefully laid mosaic drive and lugged your bag with you, returning to your beat-up truck only to fetch the electric trimmers. Weeds, pruning, hedges, flowers… It was your typical work, the only difference was your still anonymous and unseen employer.

The same water bottle sat on the front step, the same list. You didn’t need to read it at this point. You began your work, your jeans soon filthy with soil and grass stains as you made your way around the exterior of the house. Then there were the bushes along the perimeter. That always took much longer.

You opted for a break before you went about the last half of the list. You sat on the step and drank from the glass bottle. You replaced the attached cork and stood, stretching as the sun reached its peak above you.

“The sunflowers are starting to droop,” The voice scared you and you spun in surprise to face the man who stood on the other side of the screen door. You hadn’t even heard it open. “My mother chose them, you see? I find them tacky. They stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Oh,” You blinked. He watched you dully as you set down the glass bottle. “I could… re-home them. As long as I can dig out the roots.”

“Burn ‘em for all I care,” He scoffed. His blue eyes looked you up and down. “You’re a lot more diligent than the last gardener.”

“Thank… you,” You said awkwardly.

He leaned his elbow against the door frame as he peered through the screen. His dark blond hair was combed back neatly, his broad shoulders stretched the cotton henley. He looked like any trust funder you’d met. “I should get back to work.”

“Mmhmm,” He nodded and disappeared.

You turned slowly and grabbed your bag of tools. You wanted to look back but didn’t as you crossed to the hedges along the walkway. You knelt and began your careful pruning. You inched down the bushes, snip, snip, snip. The sun beat down as you reached the end and stood.

“She stole,” You winced as you were once more frightened by the man. “Can’t help but wonder why considering how much I’m paying to have leaves cut.”

“I’m sorry she did that,” You squinted as the sun seared your eyes. “Um…”

“Ransom Drysdale,” He introduced himself. “I have your card. I know your name.”

“Well, I was just about to do the back. I just need to… um, get there.” You bent and tucked your shears into your bag and lifted it.

“Looks good, so far,” He said as he followed you from the other side of the hedge. “I can get you some more water.”

“I’m almost done,” You assured him. “But thank you.”

“Alright,” He stopped and you carried on.

You felt him watched you as you disappeared around the back of the house. As you set up, you fought to focus on the work. The rose bushes were always the most obstinate. You took out your pruners and set to detaching the dying buds and stray branches.

As you moved from the white petals to the reds, you sensed something. You glanced over. The man, Ransom, was sat in one of the lawn chairs on the patio outside the tall glass doors. He was far but not so far away that you couldn’t tell he watched you. Well, if his last gardener had sticky fingers, how could you blame him?

You finished up and looked around one last time. You buckled up your large bag and slid the folded paper out of the side pocket, running down the list just to make sure. As you stood, bag slung over your shoulder, you found that your employer had gone as swiftly as he’d appeared.

You hauled it back around the house. The water bottle was gone. You went to your truck and dumped your bag in the bed. You climbed in the front and turned the engine. It kicked up but as you shifted into reverse, then puttered and died. You tried again. Odd. You’d just had it in for an oil change and they said it was in good shape.

You got out and walked around the pick-up. You checked out every inch then opened the hood. You didn’t really know what you were looking for. A shadow came up behind you and two large hands settled on the truck’s nose, a pair of thick arms blocking you in.

“Problem?” Ransom’s warm breath tickled your scalp. You went rigid, unsure of what to do. You didn’t know what to do.

“No.” You said. “Probably just overheated.”

You pushed against his arm but he didn’t move. You grabbed the other which proved just as immovable. You turned around in the tight space between him and the truck.

“What are you doing?”

“Just having a look,” He said coolly. “You think it’s the battery?”

“I don’t know.” You tried to sidestep him again but he still wouldn’t move. “Let me go.”

“You know, at first, I watched you because I was bored. Then it became almost a hobby. Something to look forward to.” He leaned in and you could smell his cologne. “Then I thought about you. After. And you just kept popping up in my head.”

“I don’t know you.” You said firmly. “Get away from me so I can call a tow.”

“It’ll take them at least an hour to get out here.” He said. “What are you supposed to do while you wait?”

“Stop.” You grabbed his arm and pushed. He chuckled at your pathetic attempt to move him. “What do you want?”

“I’m sure you can guess.”

He reached up and grabbed the lip of the hood. His other hand went to your throat as he backed up just a little and drew you with him. He closed the hood with a bang and you flinched. You grasped his wrist and twisted. He barely seemed to notice as his fingers tightened.

He leaned in and his chiseled features turned malicious. He grabbed your shoulder and spun you to face the truck. He pushed you against the hood and you caught yourself on the hot metal. He crushed you with his body and his hot breath glossed over your head.

“I lied.” He nuzzled your head. “The last gardener quit. He hated the commute.”

“Get off.” You tried to elbow him and he grabbed the back of your head. He slammed it down onto the truck and held you there. “Ow, stop!”

“And on top of finding a new gardener, the bitch I called a girlfriend decided she needed to follow her dreams or whatever shallow shit those spoiled princesses believe these days.” He growled and pushed his crotch into your ass. “And then you show up. Sweet little flower girl. Hard worker… and for what? A beat up Ford and dirt under your nails.”

“Let me go!”

“You know I pay well to have the flowers watered, how much do you think I’d pay for… personal services?”

“You’re disgusting.” You hissed.

“Well,” He laughed. “I guess I don’t have to pay.”

He pulled on the back of your jeans as you wriggled against the hood, the metal seared your cheek. His arm snaked around you as he picked your fly open and pushed his hand down the front of your panties. You gasped as he kicked your feet apart and force his fingers between your legs.

“You like to get dirty, flower girl?” He muttered in your ear. “Hmm.” He rubbed his fingers along your folds. “I think that’s my answer.”

You closed your eyes. You were wet. Sweat, mostly, from the day in the sun, but more. Adrenaline, fear… He shoved a finger inside you and you squeaked. Your feet slipped on the stone work below.

“Please… stop,” You begged and he pushed another finger in.

“Weird how you don’t sound like you mean it,” He drew his fingers in and out as he pressed the heel of his hand to your clit. “How it feels…” He paused as you trembled. “Like you want it.”

“Ransom, Ransom…” You said his name. “Please. This isn’t--”

He filled you to his knuckles and you whimpered.

“Shhh,” He breathed. “This is a respectable neighbourhood… not that anyone can hear you.”

He slid his fingers out of you and left a slick trail along your pelvis as he pulled back. He ripped down your jeans from behind. His hand moved to your neck and he squeezed painfully. He wrenched your panties down and pinched your bare ass. You whined and kicked helplessly.

You pushed on the hood, trying to force him off. You only ended up with your ass pressed against him.

“Oh, I like that,” He stepped back and slapped your ass. “You really think you can win.”

“Please--”

He slapped you again. You swallowed your protests and he shifted behind you. The smooth whisper of a zipper followed and had you tensed against the truck. Your sweaty hands slipped over the metal.

He prodded you with his tip as he stepped closer. He bent his knees against your legs. He guided his dick along your cunt, poking around until he found your entrance. You inhaled sharply as he inched inside. Your walls clenched around him as he sank into. You were taken off your feet as he rammed into you entirely. You cried out and slapped the hood.

“Ow, stop, stop.” You exclaimed.

His hand left your neck as he grabbed your hips instead. He slammed you into the truck as he thrust into you harshly. You lifted your head as your back arched. Your toes fought to find traction on the ground as you whimpered and reached to try to pull yourself away from him. He easily rocked you back into him as he rutted into you.

Your nerves buzzed as he fucked you harder, the hem of his shirt brushed against your ass each time. You panted as the heat gathered along your spine and stormed through your core. You were so close and the thought repulsed you. Your disgust quickly flitted away as his grunts permeated the air around you.

Your eyes rolled back and you dropped your head back to the hood. You smothered your moans in your arm but your body betrayed you with a violent spasm. You came and he barely seemed to notice as he sped up.

He bent over you and pushed your legs together. Your walls grew even snugger around him and he groaned. He swore as he twitched and pulled out of you suddenly. He tugged on your jeans as he climaxed in a series of primal snarls. He released you and his shoes scraped against the stonework. He sighed over the metallic zip and you found your feet below you.

You turned, slowly. You looked down at your jeans, rolled below your thighs. Your panties were shiny with his cum as you stared at them dumbly. Your legs shook as your stomach turned.

“Pull those up, flower girl,” Ransom sneered. “It’s not professional to walk around with your ass out.”

You lifted your head and blindly grasped the waist of your jeans. You pulled them up and the wet fabric pressed against your cunt. You buttoned your fly as you watched him reach into his pocket. He pulled out a metal part and winked.

“Pretty sure I can just screw this back into place.” He smirked. “Next Sunday, same time.” He passed you lifted the hood. “I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

#dark!ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #knives out #drabble #fic #one shot #dark fic #dark!fic #request #au

739 notes · View notes

binniesthighs · 3 years

Text

two tails | reader x minho |

Two

Pairing: self insert, female reader x lee minho

Genre: strangers to lovers, neighbors to lovers, fluff

Tags: neighbors au, comfort fic, catowner!minho, catowner!reader, author!reader, bestfriend!seungmin, coworker!hyunjin, florist!jisung, punk!jisung (yeah boiiii), agedup!skz, slow burn, plot-driven, gradual romance, lil bit of angst, strained parental relationship, explicit language, mentions of food, passive body shaming

Word count: 5.5k (y e e t we love self indulgence)

Tagging: @lauraneuuh

Chapters

P | ONE | TWO | THREE

busybody noun

:an officious or inquisitive person.

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

There are a couple things that your mother is known for--or rather, a couple things that she has been deemed.

Mother, wife, friend, matriarch, socialite, unofficial event planner, gossip, show off, professional nagger, and, to certain people, bitch.

And yet, somehow your mother was intertwined with some of the most prominent circles within the city, and she knew everything about everyone’s business. Frankly, she often didn’t have anything better to to with her time. ” If she had any job at all, it would be calling you every weekend to give her opinions on your rather “less than auspicious” life choices.

To her, another one of your “less than auspicious” life choices had to do with the way that you had dressed yourself; however little sense this made.

Your mother sipped at her tea with dainty fingers, barely cracking with age due to her expensive hand creams.

“Quickly. Go get changed. We don’t have much more time and you’re dallying. It should fit you, just as long as you haven’t put on any more weight.” Her hawk-like gaze inspected your hips and thighs. “Hmm. I think you’ll be fine.”

Seungmin, where he sat on the couch with perfect posture tapped his feet up and down with discomfort.

I hate you for doing this to me, he glared at you with despair, hiding it behind the wide smile he performed for your mother.

“What? Do you not trust me to be alone with your friend here?”

Your best friend nervously chuckled out in that little puppy-like way that he would. “What? Ahh no, I’ll be fine, go on Y/n, I should be leaving soon anyway, I was just stopping by.”

Your mother’s eyes followed you up your staircase, watching for the very moment that you closed your bedroom door. The second you did, her snide voice hissed out loud whispers, undoubtedly drilling Seungmin about the usual questions: are you married, where do you live, what’s your profession, what does your family do etc.

The little metal zipper of the pencil skirt pinched your fingertips as you attacked it up your body. Once again, your mother had underestimated your clothing size. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes looking at the tags for the designer matching skirt and blazer ensemble. There was nothing in your mother’s life that didn’t denote the status that she “worked so hard for.”

In a way, you hated that you had done this to Seungmin as well. Initially you had thought that having some kind of male presence over when your mother arrived would deter her stabbing remarks about your singledom, but in fact, it has just made it worse. For once in your life, you just wanted to hold something over her. Now, you’d likely traumatized the best friend that you had.

You nearly slipped on the carpeted stairs in your nylon stockings on the way down, but held fast the the banister, looking a bit like some kind of sad, business-casual, plastic-looking prom queen.

Seungmin’s eyes widened seeing you in the toning skirt. Likely you knew that he must’ve been keeping his jokes to himself the very best that he could--you wouldn’t hear the end of it later.

“Wonderful. Let’s get going.” Your mother set down her teacup with a clink. “I’ve got some cosmetics in the car that you can use as well. We’ll be stopping off at the flower shop before we get to the venue. I’ve ordered an arrangement for the bride-to-be.”

“I feel like a China doll.” You muttered under your breath, catching a little laugh from your friend. Your eyes met as if to ask him if he was okay, which he rolled his eyes as his answer.

You put on the only pair of kitten heels that you owned: they were brown, banged up and the pleather was cracking a little at the edges. Of course, your mother let out an exasperated sigh upon seeing them.

“I’ll bring shoes next time.”

Seungmin politely opened the door for the both of you and the spring morning’s sun washed your face in it’s warmth. The morning was perfect: the exact kind of day that you would spend in your garden writing or reading on the single-person porch swing you had just installed. Dew still held to the Kelly green blades of grass and your cherry blossom tree bowed a little in the breeze.

“Well, it was nice meeting and speaking with you Seungmin--”

“--We’ve met before thou--”

“--You seem to be a strapping and organized young man. I do hope that you consider what we discussed.”

Seungmin appeared to flush a little, “I-I’ll think about it.”

You tugged at your friend’s shirt, pulling him in to whisper, “What the hell did she talk to you about?”

“Don’t worry about it.” His eyes fluttered around nervously. “She just kept going on about how she wanted me to--”

“--Oh, Y/n!”

From your mother’s surprised expression on the other side of the car, to the way that Seungmin stopped dead in his sentence, you knew exactly who that voice belonged to.

Your body turned around in slow-motion, hoping that this must have been some kind of nightmare, and that you hadn’t woken up that morning yet and were cozily still tucked in bed.

If it would have been socially acceptable, you would have hidden behind that car until he walked away, but it was too late considering he already knew you were there.

Your mother let out some kind of ungodly squeal before rushing towards Minho and taking his hand in hers to shake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you! I take it that you know my daughter? And who might you be, such a handsome man as yourself???”

You really did contemplate hiding behind that car.

It was unfair how you had to run him into at a time when he looked like that. Your mother was nearly eating him with her eyes while Minho looked to you in his confusion.

Of course when your mother had to see him, he was fresh off of his morning run: white cotton sleeveless shirt, running joggers, a thick headband with sweat dripping down his body in rivets from his forehead to the curves of his toned arms.

Life was just too fucking unfair.

“Minho!” Internally, you crawled so far into yourself it was like you were barely there. You squeaked out the words coupled with a poorly-timed voice crack, “I didn’t plan on seeing YOu here!”

“Minho?!” Seungmin echoed your phrase, grabbing onto your arm with force.

“Uh, hello, nice to meet you I’m Lee Minho. And yes, I do know Y/n, I actually live a couple doors down--”

“--A neighbor! How wonderful! I know she doesn’t leave the house that much, but I’m so glad that the two of you have met. Do you live your family..? Or...your wife...?”

He smiled warmly, polite as always, “No Ma’am, I’m not married, I live with my mother.”

“Your mother? Well, that’s very honorable.”

You and your best friend locked eyes upon hearing the answer to the question that both of you had been silently wondering.

With a little eyebrow raised, he gave you a smirk, before braiding his hand through his locks strung with sweat. “I also live with my cats too.”

“Cats?” Your mother tried her best to hide the distaste in her mouth. “That’s...honorable as well. Taking care of animals is...hm, well, Y/n get in the car, time is ticking!!”

Your mother’s shrill voice was clipped by the sound of the car door closing behind her. You and your best friend choked in silent laughter together.

“Are you sure I don’t look ridiculous?” You patted down your itchy grey blazer.

Seungmin nodded, “Do you want me to tell you the truth? Not your colors. But, you’ll just have to live with it.”

“I think that you look nice.” Minho’s compliment melted into your skin like honey. “But I agree, the colors don’t work the best. Sorry.”

“Oh. Thank you...” Your cheeks warmed, “Sorry! God, I’m-this is Seungmin, my-my friend Seungmin, sorry I didn’t introduce you both, my head is just--”

“--Nice to meet you. Finally.” Seungmin’s expression turned a bit more stoic, a stark contrast to his softer features.

“Nice to meet you as well.”

“Okayyyy, well, I’ll just...get going then. See you both...later.”

Seungmin slammed the door behind you, leaving you with your huffing mother in the car.

“All of these handsome men around you and you can’t lock down one? I can’t believe you...” She threw her makeup bag on your lap. “I’ll play matchmaker if you want me to, I don’t mind, but you know that I have a lot going on already--”

“--Haven’t you already started? Don’t pretend like you didn’t tell Seungmin something. Seungmin is my friend, mom.”

“I just don’t get you. Aren’t you ever a bit sad that you don’t get invited to things like this since you have no female friends...?”

“Honestly? I don’t really care--”

“--You should. Thank God that you have me.”

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

The front windows to the floral shop winked in the morning sun and the gold lettering of the signage glistened with a similar glow. On the display, there were several dozens of different types of flowers all arranged into different glass vases, tied with bows or swaddled in burlap. The arrangements of roses, chrysanthemums, peonies, daises, sunflowers and other wildflowers appeared to be freshly cut, and beaded with water droplets.

“Here. Take my card. If any of them seem to be brown at all, tell them that you won’t pay until they fix it.”

You took the little plastic card from her red painted nails. “Will do.”

There was a little bell hung over the shop door, and it tinkled when you entered like fairy chimes. The entire place seemed a little magical: the kind of place that you would find yourself reiterating in your writings. On the marble tiled floors, flecks of dirt seemed to gather in the grout.

The golden brass counter stretched on for nearly the whole length of the shop, and held a display case which doubled as a cooler holding smaller things like corsages and boutonnières.

“Can I help you?”

The man approached you wiping the dirt off of his hands onto his canvas apron which was stained with smudges of green and brown. Your eyes were immediately drawn to the tattoos adorning his arms in beautiful patterns of black with muted colors of yellow, lavender and pink. They were nearly all floral in design and reminded you of the drawings from a botany book. His shaggy dark hair had a bit of a curl to it that tasseled over his eyes. His smile too was devastatingly charming, decorating it was a black hooped lip ring.

“Here to pick up an order?”

“Y-yes, for L/n.”

“I just finished that one up, lucky for you.” He palmed through the little stack of receipts near the register. “I’ll go get it real quick.”

It was criminal how fast you found your heart beating after hearing how strikingly soothing his voice had sounded. You also found your head spinning over how familiar he seemed, like someone you had met before, but couldn’t place where.

He had brought the sizeable arrangement over, and upon seeing it, you knew that your mother must’ve asked them to pull out all the works. Not only were flowers like this a bit of an unusual bridal shower gift, but it was just one more way for her to show off. The moment that the two of you would arrive with that, heads would turn, and that was exactly what she wanted. It was so large, you had to crane a little to see the florist behind it.

“That’ll be 360.”

Never had you been more thankful to pay for a gift with someone else’s money.

When you passed him the card, you noted the little scrapes up and down his hands and forearms, looking a bit like cat scratches.

“It’s the roses.” He chuckled. “This job is a lot more dangerous than you would think.”

“Oh.” A heat in your cheeks rose along with his observation of you.

“Beautiful day isn’t it?” He tapped at the register, then nodded to the sunlight streamlining in from the windows. There were little rainbows speckling the store from the prisms hung above the displays.

“I-it really is.”

Your eyes wandered to his nametag which looked like he had decorated with hand-drawn stars. Jisung. Once again, he caught your eyes, slyly rolling his tongue over that black hoop.

“It’s the kind of day that makes me wish I wasn’t cooped up in here and doing something else; going somewhere else. You seen the cherry blossoms yet?”

“I-I have one in my yard.”

“Oh really? It’s my favorite time of year because of them.”

His smile was a bit in the shape of a heart, and the way that his eyes smiled along with it was just as charming as the rest of him.

Blaze.

He was Blaze.

Quite literally, never in your life could you have said that you had felt your heart skip a beat, but, you imagined that there’s a first time for everything.

He scribbled down something down on the receipt, handing you both the card and the slip.

“Have a good one, ‘kay?”

Had it been socially acceptable, you would have slapped yourself square in the face, right then and there, to snap yourself out of your awe.

“Yo-you as well.”

It was a miracle you didn’t drop that expensive-ass floral arrangement getting out of there as fast as you did.

“What took you so long? People will start wondering where we are.”

Your mother said a couple more chastising remarks, but they faded away once you looked at the crinkled piece of paper on your hand:

I hope to see you again, Blossom.

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

“Y/n!!! Oh my god, I am so happy to see you. I’ve been decaying, simply drying out in this office all by myself.”

You swatted your melodramatic friend by the backside of his head, subsequently ruffling up his perfectly primped long, blond hair.

“Shut up. You’re surviving just fine without me.”

Hyunjin lowered his voice into a rather loud whisper, “Everyone here is just so boring.”

“I don’t know what you’re expecting ‘Jin. It’s a publishing company, all we do is read here. You kind of did it to yourself too. Hell, you edit the children’s books!! You don’t have a thing to complain about.”

“Are you sure that you can’t take an office here? We could eat lunch together, make coffee together from that broken-ass coffee machine, and bitch about Mr. Yoon together. By the way, what are you doing here anyway besides not seeing me?”

“Picking up a couple manuscripts. I finished the ones from before.”

“You’re inhuman. I don’t know how you get through 300+ pages over a weekend.”

You shrugged, “It’s just what I like to do, that’s all. And, no, I will not be taking an office here, not when I have my classes too.”

“Aren’t you the perfect symbol of adulthood.” Hyunjin pulled up for you the creaky plastic office chair from the empty desk next to his.

“Tell that to my mother, I think she’d have a different oponion.”

“Screw your mother--and you can tell her that I said that too.” Your coworker fiddled with his white collar, pulling it from his neck. You knew how much he hated those and would have much rather preferred the silky low-cut ones which had become his trademark.

“If only it were that easy.”

“How’s Princess Bomi doing?”

“My cat or the story?”

“I was talking about the story, but sure, tell me about your cat too.”

Hyunjin was a sarcastic little shit, but that was why you loved him. Seungmin tended to be the same sometimes--you surmised that perhaps you made the same type of people gravitate towards you.

“It’s been pretty well received actually, and I think I’m just about done with the first book, there’s probably only a few chapters left. I just passed 8,000 reads.”

“Wow, that’s actually...really impressive. I mean it.”

When he wasn’t being a sarcastic little shit, Hyunjin was actually a genuine friend. He had been supportive of your writing ever since he forced the information out of you a few months ago after seeing a your chaotic notes mixed in with your manuscript ones. Of course, he had laughed at the prospect of you naming your main character after your cat, but he understood otherwise.

“You’ve been getting good feedback?”

“Mmhm! They really like Bomi as a character, that, and it seems like Blaze has some fans too...”

Upon saying the same, the boy from the flower shop sneakily crept back into your head along with that stupidly Blaze-like smile of his--or at least, the smile that you had always pictured Blaze to have.

Hyunjin snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Earth to Y/n? Where did you go?”

“Huh? Oh sorry, I think I just got...lost in thought.”

“I said I think that you should really consider brining it to the company. What if they want to publish it? I think that it’s worth a shot. You said yourself that its successful online. What makes you think that people wouldn’t be interested in the print version?”

“I--Hyunjin, Princess Bomi is kind of a personal thing...”

“--Why do I even bother!” In his mock disgust, Hyunjin crossed his flabbergast arms against his chest. “I’m only trying to give you a helpful suggestion.”

Above the two of you, the florescent white lights bore down on you with a harsh luminescence.

“But--” You shyly picked at the hem of your blouse, “I could use your help with something else.”

“What?”

“What do you suggest that I wear...to meet someone’s mom?”

Hyunjin practically leapt out of his chair and three feet into the air.

“YOU’RE MEETING SOMEONE’S MOTHER?! I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!!”

“Get your ass back down in your seat.” You whipped your head around to see your coworkers concerned glances. “Yes, I am.”

“Thank God that you asked me. This is a serious matter.”

“I can’t exactly ask Seungmin...so...”

“Don’t you worry! I know exactly what you can do. So,” His voice turned sing-songy, “~What’s he like~ And how come you didn’t tell me about this sooner??”

“-Because I knew that you would have this exact same reaction.”

“I promise I’ll calm down, okay, go:”

“Well, he’s my neighbor, and I’ve only met him a few weeks ago, and he’s got cats, and he’s really sweet and not to mention hot as well but in like kind of a... cozy, librarian kind of way? Anyway, he wears cardigans--and you know that I’m a sucker for a good cardigan--and I’m convinced that the universe is trying to get me to destroy him but, that’s beside the point--”

“Slow down slow down! Literally all of the words you said just now don’t make sense together.”

You wheeled your chair closer to the man across from you, “And then he asked me to meet his cats and his mom or maybe just his cats or his mom, he was kinda unclear about that now that I think about it...”

“So he’s hot and has cats, hmm, sounds right up your alley.”

“I-I guess.”

“Are you sure he’s not, you know, trying to be neighborly?”

You punched Hyunjin’s arm so hard you jiggled your glasses on your face. “Don’t ruin this for me.”

“Sorry I brought it up! Ok, ok, I think I know what you should do. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t help you bag this sexy librarian man?”

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

“I sure as hell hope that you’re not trying to be neighborly.”

You smoothed down your freshly ironed blouse: a floral pattern with birds, something “light and springy” just as Hyunjin had recommended. The pleats in your trousers were in shape as well. He had suggested too that you tied your hair up, something about it being professional and “dateable.”

Bomi sauntered up to you while you inspected your outfit in the full-length mirror. Her gorgeous green eyes were squinted after her day-long nap, and she yawned while she brushed up against your leg.

“To what do I owe the pleasure Bomi?” You bent down to pat her head, which she promptly shied away from. “You think that this looks good? Mother-worthy?”

Bomi blinked.

“Thanks for your input Bo.”

Another yawn.

Your nightstand held your little jewelry tree, and from it you took a dainty silver necklace that hung just above the neckline of your blouse, as well as the thin tan wristwatch that you wore once in a blue moon.

The watch face read 5 o’clock exactly.

“Shit! Shit shit shit shit!.”

Bomi scrambled out of your way as you flew around the room trying to find a matching pair of socks. You stopped one more in front of the mirror. Your mother’s words always did find a way of seeping back into your skin like poison. Even if you had looked “nice” a nagging voice deep down echoed: “you’ve only ever been less than auspicious. Why don’t you ever change that?”

“Screw your mother.” Hyunjin had said.

If it only was that easy.

Your footsteps clomped down the stairs, and you threw on the same pair of kitten heels.

“Shit. The gift.” You slapped your forehead, cursing your horrid memory.

“And don’t forget to bring his mother something. A gift. Something small but thoughtful. Something that she can use. Mothers eat shit up like that.”

You frantically searched your entire home for something that resembled a gift. After a few moments of searching, you had resolved to go without it--you’d explain that it was in the mail, or misplaced, or anything but the fact that you didn’t have one. You grabbed your humorous amount of keychains on your keys, eyes catching that little box of complimentary chocolates from the bridal shower.

“Good enough.”

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

One more time, you checked your reflection in the glass door leading to Minho’s mother’s townhouse.

“This is fine, you can do this. Don’t screw this up, you’re fine, you’re fine.”

Minho opened the door, looking as confusingly adorable and downright gorgeous as you had grown to know him as. This time, he had ditched the cardigan for a sky blue sweater that still pooled at his palms. Seeing how casually he had dressed, you instantly felt overdressed, and made a mental reminder to cuss out Hyunjin when you got the chance later.

“Come in,” He gently ushered you to the spot where you switched on shoes for slippers.

“You-um, look really nice.” Minho pushed up his glasses up his nose bridge, “Really pretty.”

“Th-thank you, um, you too.”

He snickered, “No one has called me pretty before.”

“Shit, Sorry, that was weird, sorry, I’m just kinda...nervous.”

“No, not at all, I don’t mind. I appreciate the compliment.”

You stood at the doorway, awkward silence permeating the air. Suddenly, you remembered the chocolates in your hands.

“Oh, this is for you and your mother, I thought I might as well bring something over...”

Minho took it from you, and you prayed that he wouldn’t think too much of the packaging that just looked a little too wedding-y.

“Thank you for this.” He popped the box open excitedly, “What kind are they?”

It took a couple seconds, but you watched in horror as his expression turned from thrilled to deeply confused.

“What is it?” You craned your neck over to see.

“Are they...supposed to look like that?”

Inside of the little plastic compartments, each of the chocolates had melted into blobs pathetically and swirled together making one huge, brown, melted--and then solidified again--chocolate mess.

“Oh my god.” Your throat felt as tight as a knot in your embarrassment. “They’ve...”

Minho hurriedly closed the box. “It’s okay! Don’t worry about it.” He tried the best he could to suppress his laughter. “It’s still about the same.”

“No it’s not.” You whined out the words. “Don’t let your mother can’t see them, oh shit, oh shit.”

“What happened to them?”

Your horrid memory suddenly let you remember the fact that those chocolates had stayed in the car after the bridal shower when you had gone to visit your mother’s home.

“Nothing good, just-hide them--”

“Minho? Is that Y/n? Is she here?”

“--Hide it, quick!!!”

Minho shoved the box behind a large houseplant, still hiding his laughter caught in his throat.

“Ahhh Y/n! It’s so good to meet you at last! I’ve heard so much about you!”

You greeted Minho’s mother with a bow, throwing the box of chocolates a disdainful glare. She was a gentle looking woman who appeared to be a little older than your own, or, perhaps the same age. You wouldn’t be surprised if your mother had paid enough to procure the elixir of life; sounds like something she would have done.

“I’m so happy to meet you as well. Thank you for inviting me in.”

“Minho!!” His mother nudged his arm, “You didn’t tell me how pretty she was.”

Your cheeks flushed with heat when you gave another little bow in thanks. “Your home is really lovely too.”

“Oh, it was all Minho’s idea, I’m just the one that did the cooking. I’m always happy to cook for a neighbor.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ve got a couple more things to prepare, Minho, you go show her the cats, I’m sure that she’d like that--I hear that you have a cat too?”

You nodded. “Are you sure that you don’t need any help?”

“No no, you both go on, I’ll handle this.”

By each passing moment, this all started to feel a bit more like a playdate than an official meeting of one’s mother. Here you were, a grown woman, and you had gone over to someone’s house to play with their cats. Maybe you weren’t as much of a grown woman as you thought you were.

“Over here.” Minho guided you to the living room: it was a modest one with furniture that looked to be very old, with beautiful traditional pictures of landscapes with assorted baby photos hanging on the walls. Everywhere, there was little pieces of evidence of the residence of cats: cat toys, scratching pads, a couple cat carriers and the cat tree nearest the window. At the top tier of the structure, there was a white and orange cat lazing with a foot slung over the side.

“Doongie?” You carefully approached the furball to pet it’s tiny paw.

“That one is Soonie, I have two cats that look a bit similar. Doongie is probably somewhere strange. You never know cats. Mine really like hopping on top of the china cabinet; it scares my mother half to death”

“I can imagine.”

Soonie remained unbothered, little cat body peacefully sleeping.

“Over here is Dori, the youngest one.”

Dori was a bit striped, with a grey body and a white belly. The smaller cat was rolled up into a perfect cinnamon roll on the loveseat. The cat stirred hearing it’s name, and keened into Minho’s touch when he scratched its head. You copied the touch, and Dori granted you the same permission.

“You cats are so sweet...wanna trade?”

“I...think that I’m good with the cat’s I’ve got. But that is a tempting offer.”

Making a rather loud appearance was Doongie, who ambled into the room with a series of loud yowls and meows, looking up to both you and Minho with striking yellow eyes.

“Doongie!” You crouched down to give the cat scratches under it’s chin, making it purr slightly. “Did you miss me? I hope that you’ve been staying out of trouble.”

Minho’s gentle brown eyes observed your interactions with his cats, simply letting you play around with them as you wished. Every once and a while, you could catch his eyes following you with a contented little grin on his face.

There was something so domestic and comforting about the whole scene. Inside the townhouse that felt well loved and with the smell of a homecooked meal in the air, there was something so peaceful about it all that was a little foreign to you.

“Minho! Please come help me with the bowls!”

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

Crickets chirped along the pathway and into the spring’s chilly nighttime air. Minho had offered to walk you home, even though you were just two houses down. Because of this, it seemed as if the two of you were walking in slow motion, taking one step after the other as slowly and carefully as you could. Absentmindedly, you both wanted just a little more time.

After spending the night being on your best behavior, you felt as if you could finally breathe. Granted, you had grandly spilled soup all over Minho’s mother, but this seemed to diffuse quickly once she had laughed raucously at the event. She was a sweet woman, with a kind soul, much like Minho. Her lightly wrinkled face shone like the sun and made you feel loved even without knowing her much.

In many ways, you wondered what it would be like having a mother as such. It was likely however, maybe you just weren’t supposed to know.

Minho cast his gaze up to the sprinkling of stars spread out over the vast sky: most of them invisible due to the closeness to the city.

“You know, I’m starting to really like living out here, in the suburbs I mean. Everything in the city was so fast and chaotic, it’s nice to sit back and let things be still for a while.”

“You don’t miss it?”

“Not as much as I did. The city...holds a lot of memories for me; some of them I’d rather forget. Being out here feels like a new start.”

The two of you stopped near the light coming from your porch. In the soft glow of yellow, coupled with the gentle navy blue tint of the night, Minho looked ethereal--perhaps even a little fairy-like.

You cursed out your writer brain for thinking of your little made up world at a time like this when you had this boy, real, in front of you.

“I had a nice time with you tonight.” Minho shoved his hands into his pants pockets with a cute little smirk. “I think my cats are a fan of you as well, so, that puts a good word in for you in my book.”

“Me too. Thank-thank you for inviting me.”

“Next time, we should do something different, I heard actually that there’s a meteor shower in a couple weeks.”

“Wait, next time?”

“Or, we could do something sooner if you’d like.”

“You want to do something else? With me?”

“Yes you, who else would I be talking about?” Minho capped his sentence with a little snicker.

“S-sorry, I just...don’t understand...why would you... I mean, I don’t do too much besides kinda hide in my house with my cat...there isn’t really a lot of things interesting about--”

Minho squatted down, sweeping something off of the sidewalk. It wasn’t until he had put it in your hair that you had realized he had taken one of the cherry blossoms from your tree to tuck it behind your ear. His head titled slightly as he admired the decoration, fingers lingering by the side of your cheek for a moment.

“I disagree.” He hushed, barely saying the words louder than a whisper. “Even though you you tent to get yourself into...situations--not that I mind anyway, you are special. Hell, and I haven’t even known you that long. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

Had it been socially acceptable, you would’ve kissed him right then and there.

If only it were that easy.

₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎

Chapter 25

There Blaze was, standing, simple, cuts on his face and that little scar on his eyebrow twitching. The campfire illuminated his eyes with the flames, creating that brazen fire that he had gotten his name from.

Bomi knew him well. In fact, she thought she had known him better than most--a fact which she selfishly kept to herself. Blaze was everything she had known for the past year or so, and the time had interwoven their paths in ways that she had never expected. Before her was a person who knew her too, perhaps better than she knew herself.

Blaze’s callused hand rose to cup her cheek, thumb rubbing over her own battle scars.

“If you’ll not have me, please know Princess, you are the strongest warrior, bravest leader, and wisest friend that I have had the pleasure of knowing. I’ll stay by your side until I breathe my last breath.”

With a shaking hand, Bomi took Blaze’s hand resting on her cheek. She memorized the way that his skin felt on hers, making a million silent wishes that she knew would never come true.

“You and I, we both know that fate would have other plans for us...I’m sorry.”

Bomi turned from the warmth of the campfire, and the way that his eyes held hers.

She wished a million wishes, and he was nearly every one one of them.

128 notes · View notes

n0-eyedtaissa · 3 years

Text

Don’t You Forget About Me (Outer Banks OC x The pogues): Chapter Five

tagging: @hughstheforcelou @reggiemantleholdmyhand-tle@cactiem& @kazinejghafa.

(the updated fic masterlist can be found here)

Part Two: One Year Later

key event: first introductions

Clementine had never moved before, so she didn’t know how much work it was. Alternatively, she didn’t realize how bad moving sucked. Her and her father eat all of their meals at the cardboard box coffee table, staring at the blank white wall where the tv would go once it got there. There was nothing on the walls yet and the few pieces of furniture that they had with them sat sadly in the middle of the living room until they figured out their permanent places throughout the house. Gat would be there tomorrow with the big moving truck with the rest of everybody’s belongings and Clementine couldn’t help but laugh about how this was the first time in her life that she’d ever been looking forward to seeing Liam Gatwin. She stopped hanging up the clothes in her closet, unfolding the handful of shirts and sweaters that she poached from Kimber’s room. The lingering smell of the jasmine oil her sister always wore was a bittersweet reminder of how far away from home Clementine truly felt.

It was late afternoon and the sun was setting, reflecting burnt orange shadows on the hardwood floor and baking the white walls. Clementine squints and puts her sunglasses on despite the fact that she was barefoot and in her pajamas. She slides down the dining room wall and sits down, closing her eyes to take in the sunlight and feeling like a small, cozy cat. She feels the shockwaves from her dad’s footsteps as he makes his way down the uncarpeted hallway, stopping short of the dining room where she was sitting crisscross applesauce on the floor. Lyle laughs as he watches his daughter bask in the sun, a wave of fondness rushing over him as he takes a moment to appreciate her cooperation with moving, trying to be more aware of just how hard it had been for her. His knees crack as he bends down to sit on the floor next to Clementine and he exhales loudly, feeling some of his tension alleviate. Clementine scoots closer to her dad and pulls out one of her earbuds to offer to him. He accepts graciously and the two of them sit next to each other in comfortable silence in their new home.

“You think we’re gonna be all right here?” Lyle asks out into the open room.

Clementine has to think about the question for a moment so the two of them sit quietly. She could make a list of everything that’s wrong in the world, everything that she could be angry about (and God, there was a lot), but Clementine was tired of that. She was tired of being sad and jaded and just wanted to relax now. She takes a breath and reminds herself to think of the good things. She had her dad and the two of them were closer than ever. That was definitely a good thing. It was good that they had a new house, and that her dad got a new job doing something he loved and that would pay him better for his efforts. Selfishly Clementine couldn’t help but appreciate the fact that she would be able to reinvent herself in the Outer Banks, no longer having to be the girl with the missing sister. She scolds herself for being relieved. Her heart hurts when she thinks of Kimber and she’s not immune to the gut wrenching curiosity that comes with not knowing what happened to someone. Would she ever know what happened after that last conversation with her sister, what happened to Kimber in between getting into Gat’s truck and wherever she ended up?

Clementine shakes the thought from her head, knowing that her dad was still patiently waiting for some sort of answer. She has to clear the tightness in her throat so she coughs, takes a long, deep breath and says,“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see”. There’s a beat of silence before the two of them both start laughing, the boisterous sounds echoing around the empty room and warming up the house.

~~~

That next morning Clementine is woken up by her dad playing music loudly over the speaker system he insisted in installing first thing when they moved in. It was the loud guitar riff from the beginning of ACDC’s ‘Back in Black’. Classic Rock meant Lyle was excited, and Clementine didn’t know if it was because the moving truck was coming today, or if it was because Gat was the one who was driving it. Gat had been an honorary part of the family for years so everyone with eyes was aware of just how deeply Lyle thought of him as a sort of surrogate son; Clementine thought it was obnoxious but Kimber always thought it was endearing, shooing away Clementine’s pessimism with something like “When you have a boyfriend, Clem, you’ll see,”. After the past year of being around Liam Gatwin, Clementine hoped that if she ever ended up with a guy like him, someone would try to knock some sense into her. Yes, Liam Gatwin was a vital piece of the crew on the Vita Caprice, but he was cocky. And he was mean-spirited, always poking at Kimber just enough for her to snap before retreating and claiming he was just playing around. Clementine didn’t like him and he knew that.

She rolls out of bed and plants her feet on the cold hardwood floor, goosebumps erupting over her bare legs as she leans over to rifle through half-unpacked boxes in order to find something to wear for the day. Clementine gets dressed for the day, clipping on her overalls and tying on her hightop sneakers before gathering her belongings up into her backpack and figuring out where her skateboard ended up being thrown in the shuffle. She grabs her stolen gas station sunglasses and puts them on despite being inside.

“Going somewhere, Cool Guy?” Lyle asks Clementine as she rounds her way into the kitchen.

“Thought I’d take in the local flora, you know, really appreciate our beautiful new home” Clementine rolls her eyes with a laugh, grabbing a bruised banana from the bowl on the counter. She tries to jump up on the counter but it’s too tall and she’s not, so she lands back on the ground with the dissatisfied smack of her sneakers against the hardwood. Lyle holds back a laugh and Clementine looks up at him sharply, only making him want to laugh more. “Don’t you start” Clementine warns her dad.

“I’m not starting!” Lyle laughs, wiping toast crumbs off of the kitchen counter. “Hey uh, Liam’s supposed to be getting in around 6. I was thinking we pull out the barbecue and cook up something nice for him, how’s that sound?”

“I’ll pass.” Clementine mumbles through a mouthful of banana.

“And where do you plan on going otherwise?” Lyle raises one of his bushy eyebrows at her, clearly amused.

Clementine shrugs, tossing her banana peel in the garbage can before tucking her skateboard under her shoulder. “I’ll figure that part out on the way.” She walks out of the kitchen and towards the front door without waiting for so much as a response from her father.

The minute she steps outside Clementine is affronted by a wave of hot, sticky air. She thought the Florida heat was bad? It wasn’t much better in the Outer Banks. The heat hung low and made the air feel heavy, like Clementine had to work twice as hard to move through it as she walked up the dirt driveway and the small hill towards the main road up the Cut. The ground is too rough and rocky for her to be able to ride her skateboard without worry so she struggles to carry it comfortably, the grip tape scratching at her arms. Clementine takes a second to stop and look around, familiarizing herself with the area that was now her home. Immediately she liked how green it was, how much nature was consistently around her. She took a detour to walk along the rocky shore of the marsh, picking up smooth rocks and dropping them in the front pocket of her overalls. Clementine decides to take the long way (which is what she called it when she got lost), but finally makes her way towards the small central town hub.

As she walks past the rows of small shops, Clementine can’t help but think it strange that everyone waved at her as she walked by — it was like they could tell that she was out of place. Or maybe it was that the town was so small they could recognize new faces if and when they came around. Or maybe they were just nice people, unlike the people back home in Florida. Clementine wanders towards the open-air farmers market, looking at the tables filled with fresh fruit, homemade jams and pies, beeswax candles and chapsticks. As much as Clementine wanted to support the local economy, she didn’t have the pocket money for the artisanal offerings of the farmer’s market so she ducks inside Heyward’s Seafood, a small grocery store and fish emporium. Clementine walks down the few aisles, looking at today’s fresh catch as it cooled on thick ice and crunches up her nose at the briny, fishy smell. There’s only a small array of snacks and other treats to choose from so Clementine grabs herself a glass bottle of lemonade and some sunflower seeds before making her way to the cash register.

“You know, we don’t get a lot of new faces around here” The man behind the counter says as he punches buttons on the register. If he wasn’t smiling Clementine would have thought it sounded sinister. But he had a quality about him that immediately put Clem at ease, he seemed personable, knowledgeable, like the kind of person you’d want to befriend on this island.

“Me and my dad just moved here a few days ago, he works over on the Vita Caprice” Clementine smiles politely, handing over her sweaty five dollar bill.

“Ah, what’s his name, ah, Adams?” The man asks with a knowing smirk and Clementine nods at him. “I’ve known all the men he’ll be working with for years, he’ll be in good hands” He promises. It seemed like he was someone who was in the know about what happened around Kildere, which Clementine couldn’t help but be intrigued by.

“Well, that’s always reassuring!” Clementine puts her change in the tip jar on the counter. “I’m Clementine. Clementine Adams” She offers her hand for the older man to shake.

“You got a good handshake, Miss Clementine! Nice to meet ya, dear, they call me Heyward.”

Clementine’s eyes go wide at the realization that this was his store. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Heyward” She smiles at him again as she gathers her snacks and heads back towards the swinging door.

“Welcome to the island, Miss Clementine”

~~~

Deciding to wander some more, Clementine loops her way through the narrow streets, trying to find new places to visit and try now that she's officially a citizen of Kildere County. She passes an ice cream shop she promises she’ll check out someday soon, and a surf shop she hoped sold skateboarding gear but sadly didn’t. She skates up and down the streets of new home, weaving around the small crowds of people who all seemed to know each other by name. She wonders what it was like to live in the same small town your whole life, going to school with the same people from kindergarten all the way until the end of high school, how families in the Outer Banks probably went back for generations upon generations. Clementine can’t help but wonder about Florida, if there was anything that changed since she left. She thinks about her old childhood home, now abandoned and empty, a ghost of everything that once was normal to her. She wondered if a family had moved in, or when one would. Who would move into her bedroom? Would they like the way that the mid-morning light came through the window? Did they notice that the third stair creaked just a little louder than the others, that the front door stuck when it got too hot outside? Would they paint over the height chart that was scrawled onto the door jamb by the kitchen? Maybe they would be able to feel that something happened there, something still unresolved. They’d board up Kimber’s old room so that nothing bad could happen to their children, to make sure the depression or the restlessness couldn’t slip through the air vents or through the cracks in the floor boards, so that no one else can sneak out through the window, never to be seen again.

Clementine was always wondering about her sister. Kimber was always floating at the back of her mind, waiting around every corner when Clementine wasn’t looking. She might have been missing, but Kimber wasn’t forgotten. No matter what Clementine said, no matter what Gat did, no matter what Lyle wished, none of them could move past the hole that Kimber left in all of their lives. It had been a year and everyone said that it was time to start moving on but Clementine disagrees. To move on meant to forget Kimber and everything that she was…and no one wanted to do that. In Clementine’s mind, Kimber was just one bedroom over, or reading a book at the breakfast table, or tucked into the corner seat of the couch watching reruns on the history channel with dad. Kimber wasn’t missing she was away at college, she finally got out of Florida. In some of Clementine’s more imaginative scenarios, Kimber was studying abroad in Europe, drinking cafe au laits in lush patio gardens and reading books by people who were long gone. Or she was on a beach somewhere, South America maybe; Or backpacking across somewhere foreign and beautiful. In all of Clementine’s scenarios her sister is alive and well and Kimber was always on her way home. But that’s all they were, made-up scenarios.

~~~

Deciding to be over with her little pity party, Clementine decides to look up from her shoes and notices the busy restaurant in front of her, immediately intrigued by the ‘help wanted’ sign that was taped in the window. The Wreck, Clementine didn’t know it yet but it was another Outer Banks staple. It was always busy, always filled with people from both Figure 8 and from the Cut. There were always tables to wait on, tips to pick up, and a line of people waiting to be seated. Noticing the expensive cars in the parking lot, Clementine thinks that this might be fate. She didn’t have any friends yet in the Outer Banks, but she could get a job and save up her money for when it mattered. A job would be good for her, she’d stay busy, out of the house and out of trouble, so Clementine opens the door to the restaurant and walks inside.

“Welcome in, sit anywhere” The dark-haired waitress says, not bothering to look up at Clementine as she moves from table to table with her busboy tote. The two of them looked to be about the same age and Clementine wondered if she would see the girl around school when it started up that fall, if she’d also be a junior.

She clears her throat, not interested in sitting down, getting a menu handed to her, or hearing about the lunch special that day. “No, uh, I actually came to see about the help wanted sign that you guys put up?”

The young waitress turns back to Clementine and looks at her quizzically, Clementine can’t figure out if this is because the girl can recognize that she’s new in town, or if she’s just surprised that someone new wanted to work at the restaurant. The girl looks up from the stack of dirty dishes, wiping her arm on the bandana wrapped around her head that was keeping her long, curly hair out of her face. “You’ll have to talk to the Boss” She gestures to a stressed out looking man who was working in the kitchen, handing freshly prepared dishes of food to waiters to dole out to their respective tables. Clementine takes one look at him and it’s clear that the “Boss” was this girl’s father, the resemblance between the two of them was undeniable. Something about that made Clementine like this place a little bit more, that there were dads and daughters working side by side just like at her house.

“Thank you” Clementine mumbles. “Oh, uh, I’m Clementine by the way. Just moved here…”

“Kiara” The girl, who now has a name, smiles at Clementine “Don’t worry, it only sucks here sometimes”

Clementine laughs, appreciating Kiara’s honesty. “I’ll have to keep that in mind” She says and Kiara politely excuses herself to get back to waiting tables. Clem walks up to the small kitchen window in the restaurant, trying to wait for a moment to catch the owner’s attention.

“Can I help you?” Someone asks from behind Clementine and she whips around. It’s an older woman, a mother’s age; older but young enough to still look pretty, just more tired. Anna, her name tag said, owner. Clementine can infer that this is Kiara’s mom by the way that the girl looks at the woman. There’s something about the way that Kiara rolls her eyes when she’s told to get back to bussing tables, though there’s still a whisper of a defiant smile on the corner of her lips.

“I noticed that you guys had a help wanted sign in the window and I wanted to see if I could apply for the job.” Clementine gives Anna a tight-lipped smile as she tries to stand up a little straighter, to make herself seem more adult and not a sweaty teenager carrying a beat-up skateboard.

Anna gives Clementine a secret once-over, her eyebrow arching up in question when she turns to ask “Well do you have any experience?”

“Oh yeah, tons” Clementine answers. “Back in Florida my sister and I used to work at this steakhouse, Rusty’s.” Clementine had worked there one summer, so it was only really a half-lie.

Anna looked pleasantly surprised. Just as she goes to open her mouth and say something, she’s cut off by the welcome bell and a big group of people walking into the restaurant in their varying shades of pastel shorts. She exhales a big breath and turns to Clementine with a sheepish look on her face. “How soon can you start?”

“Right now?” Clementine asks, not sure if that was what her new boss was alluding to.

“Perfect” Anna exhales.

She unties the apron from around her waist and thrusts it into Clementine’s hands, handing off her pen and pad of paper. Anna pastes on her fake smile as she goes to greet the group, scooping up an armful of menus. “Welcome in everyone, welcome, welcome! Let’s get you seated over here!” Anna puts on her perfectly crafted customer service voice as she corrals the group towards a long table. “This is our new trainee, uh…” Anna has to pause, realizing that she never asked Clementine her name.

“Clementine” She smiles at the table full of people, “What can I get you all to drink this afternoon?”

~~~

Clementine actually likes working, though she’d never admit that to her dad or anyone else. She liked being able to put herself on autopilot, to focus so hard on so many things at once that her eyed glazed over and she ran on pure instinct alone. A pitcher of sweet tea for the table, a round of waters, would you like to hear about today’s lunch special? Table five wants an order of ceviche for everyone, the kid at able three wants an extra packet of oyster crackers to put into his bowl of clam chowder. Clementine scrawls down orders in her small, slanted writing and hands them over to Mr. C, Mike Carrera, her other Boss. Clementine shadows Miss Anna all day, helps Kiara clear off tables and wipe them clean. She stays there for hours, impressed with herself and how she was able to walk her way right onto a job. When the lunch rush ends and the bulk of the customers had managed to roll out, Miss Anna walks up to Clementine and hands her a bundle of crumpled up dollar bills; tip money for her efforts.

“Thank you girls for your help this afternoon” Anna says, addressing Clementine and Kiara. “You two head out for the evening. Clementine, you’ll be in tomorrow for an actual training session, right?”

“Yes, ma’am” Clementine nods.

“Bye mom!” Kiara says, already turning on the heels of her high tops and getting ready to walk out the back door. She stops short and turns to Clementine. “Aren't you coming?”

“Oh!” Clementine is surprised that Kiara was talking to her. “Definitely” She responds quickly, picking up her skateboard and her backpack and following her outside.

Kiara leads the way outside and neither of them say a word until they make their way out of earshot from the customers sitting on the patio. The two girls walk towards the parking lot with the gravel crunching under their feet, sounding deafeningly loud in the mutual silence. They stop short at a beat-up looking SUV with a wicked dent in both the front and back bumper. Clementine thinks the juxtaposition between the expensive car and the dents is sort of funny, but she doesn’t want to say anything and piss off Kiara — who had been rather nice without particularly needing to be. Kiara opened the back hatch of her car and invited Clementine to sit in the laid-down back seat.

“I can’t believe my mom just threw you to the wolves like that,” Kiara laughs, “That feels illegal as shit”

“I’m just impressed that I actually managed to keep up” Clementine reveals. “At one point it literally felt like my brain turned off and I was operating like this little capitalist robot” She wiggles her fingers and Kiara laughs at her, knowing the feeling.

“At this rate, you’ll be employee of the month in no time” She tells Clementine matter of factly.

“Ouch, I didn’t mean to knock you out of your spot” Clementine jokes, hoping that since Kiara was playing around with her a little bit she would be able to play back.

“I never even stood a chance…” Kiara laughs.

“Sometimes not even nepotism can save you” Clementine shrugs and the two of them look at each other and start laughing.

“So how long ago did you move?” Kiara asks Clementine as she crosses her legs and makes herself comfortable in the trunk area of the car. She pulls out her sunglasses case and picks a joint out of it, offering it silently to Clementine and trying to see if she would take it.

Clem realized that Kiara was trying to gauge her and her interests to figure out that she was into and if she was cool enough to hang around. She retrieves the lighter that she always kept on her and sparks up the joint before answering “Three days ago”

Kiara blows out a big breath of smoke. “Fresh meat” She chuckles, handing the joint over to Clementine.

“I guess so” Clem laughs. “What about you, how long have you lived here?”

“My whole life” Kiara answers. Clementine can tell that she’s not a fan, though. There would always be something about hometowns; they restricted you. They were a lethal mix of claustrophobic and nostalgic, with memories all ready to peek their heads around unsuspecting corners. Looking around Outer Banks, Clementine wasn’t yet able to distinguish the good from the bad but she knew that in time she would.

“That bad, huh?”

Kiara shakes her head. “Only sometimes”

The two pass along the joint until it burns down to a small roach, making small talk. Kiara was from here, born and raised. Big house on Figure 8, which Clementine found out was the name for the rich neighborhoods built up with white marble McMansions. Her parents were Mike and Anna Carrera, owners of the Wreck, both alive and well and grossly happy in their marriage. No siblings, though Kiara said she used to beg for a little brother or sister all the time when she was younger because the house was too big for just the three of them. She’s a socialist who swears up and down that she hates rich people (despite being one). She’s a pescatarian and a virgo, she likes surfing, swimming, and political activism. Kiara realizes that she’s been talking about herself for quite a while now and she laughs it off nervously. “Sorry, the weed’s catching up to me…” The two of them laugh and then it was Clementine’s turn to share:

She was Clementine Adams, seventeen, born and raised not that far outside of Miami. Her dad was Lyle Adams, he worked as a commercial fisherman on the Vita Caprice. Her mom was gone, her sister wasn’t with them right now. She doesn’t say the word missing, just that Kimber didn’t move with the rest of them. Clementine hopes that Kiara doesn’t read too much into it. She tells her that she’s a cancer, though she doesn’t agree with how emotional her horoscope makes her out to be. She likes soccer, skating, reading books and riding bikes with her sister. She tells Kiara that she doesn’t know anyone in OBX yet and that was why she decided to get a summer job to make some money while killing time. This part, of course, was a morsel of information that Clementine threw out there in hopes that Kiara would ask to hang out again or something (though she’d never be the first person to initiate the conversation).

The sun had started to lower in the sky and the two of them were still talking. It was nice to have someone new to talk to, no one who’s opinion of you was already tainted by things that they’d heard about you from someone else. Neither of them seem to realize it but it was like they had this innate need to talk to one another, to purge some of the energy that was bubbling up inside each of them and threatening to boil over. Clementine and Kiara sit side by side with their legs swinging over the trunk of Kiara’s big, dented up car. They trade stories, small ones, bullshit moments that didn’t really mean much in the long run but were memorable enough to share with someone. There were lots of faceless names thrown around: John B, Sarah, JJ, Pope, Kimber, Gat, but it didn’t really matter who these people were, just that they mattered enough to be mentioned by Kiara and Clementine, even if only in passing.

“So can you ride this thing?” Kiara asks, spinning one of Clementine’s skateboard wheels with her hand and watching as it rolled, fast and smooth, before stopping.

“Only sometimes” Clementine laughs, calling back to Kiara’s comment from earlier. She points out a handful of scraped and bruises on her knees and lower legs that prove her point. “What about you, ever ridden one?”

“If you count a surfboard, then yeah” Kiara laughs.

“I don’t count that, no” Clementine grabs her board and tosses it on the ground with a clatter. “Like at all actually” She laughs and gets up from her spot next to Kiara and puts one foot on the old, beat-up skateboard, pushing off and rolling around the back parking lot area of the Wreck. Clementine shows off a little, popping an ollie or two, getting all four wheels of the board off of the ground and actually landing them.

“Okay so how do you do it then?” Kiara asks, her curiosity getting the better of her as she stands up, going to stop Clementine’s skateboard with her foot.

Clementine looks up eagerly. “You want to learn?” She’d been skating for a handful of years now, since she was going into her freshman year of high school and she decided that she was too cool for a beach cruiser. She remembered how many summer afternoons she spent in the driveway with Kimber and Gat (back then when he was Just Gat, a friend of the family and not Kimber’s boyfriend), falling and getting back up, laughing and getting laughed at. But she got the hang of it and gained a little confidence and soon her skateboard became her main method of transportation.

Kiara jumps up. “Why the hell not!”

Clementine beams at her, hoping that this was some sort of inclination that the two girls could end up being friends, not just coworkers who spent the lunch rush together pulling their eyes as they handed out hot plates to hungry tables. She holds the skateboard steady with her feet so Kiara can get on it, offering her hand to hold onto as Kiara finds her balance. She’s a little wobbly at first, clutching onto Clementine’s hand with a shaky smile. “Spread your feet like you would on your surfboard” Clementine instructs, pushing Kiara’s feet further apart so that her front and back foot were in line with the bolts on the skateboard. “Bend your knees”

“Like this?” Kiara bends her knees, immediately feeling the burning in her thighs. She makes an uncomfortable face and Clementine laughs.

“If your legs aren’t on fire, you’re not doing it right” Clementine laughs, grabbing Kiara’s shoulder and giving her a light little push so she started rolling across the parking lot.

Kiara lets out a little yelp. “Oh shit, I’m doing it!” She throws out her arms to keep her balance and Clementine runs across the lot, trying to catch Kiara in case she fell.

Clementine tries to kick any big rocks and pebbles out of the way of the skateboard wheels so that there was nothing to potentially trip her up. Back towards the restaurant Miss Anna peeks her head out of the back door and watches as Clementine and Kiara run across the parking lot riding along on the beat-up skateboard.

“Kiara! Are you corrupting my new employee already?” Miss Anna scolds, her hands on her hips as she stands out on the back stairs. Part of her feels conflicted, it was good for Kiara to make new friends but she didn’t know Clementine, so she didn’t know what kind of kid she was, if she was anything like the usual company her daughter kept. But she wonders if this was a good thing, a new friend for Kiara, maybe someone who would help her break the rebellious streak she’d been on. It was nice to see her daughter smile though, Anna could admit to herself. It had been quite some time since she had seen Kiara do anything but scowl, too mad at the world and everyone in the Outer Banks.

Kiara stops smiling just as quickly as she started, taking a shaky step off of Clementine’s skateboard as she planted her foot on the ground to stop herself. “We were just messing around” She scoffs, freezing up like Clementine had seen a handful of her friends do around their mothers. There seemed to be something about the way a mother could judge you so deeply and fully in the least amount of words. With a gesture, or a look; the sharp uptick of an eyebrow or the rude quirk at the corner of her lips. Kiara deflates and rolls the skateboard back to Clementine.

Clementine has an idea, though. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and see’s that it’s going to be 6:30 soon, so Gat should be there with the moving truck by now and her dad said that he was planning on barbecuing to celebrate his arrival and the beginning of the move-in process. She knows that it’s presumptuous to think that her and Kiara are anything more than co-workers, but she wanted to make a friend that day because she deserved to have someone to hang out with and confide in. Given the way that the two of them had been faring, why couldn’t it be Kiara?

She clears her throat and just asks the question: “Do you wanna come to my house for dinner? The moving truck just got here and my dad was supposed to barbecue, could be good. If you’re not busy, I mean” Clementine tacks that part onto the end of her sentence, giving Kiara a caveat in case she had somewhere better to be.

Kiara looks over Clementine’s shoulder, back towards her mom and the restaurant. She doesn’t answer right away and that made Clementine think that Kiara was surely going to turn down the invitation. But she doesn’t. “Sure, I could eat” Kiara shrugs off her mom’s comments and her shitty attitude and Clementine watches her light up a little easier.

The girls load up into Kiara’s expensive (but dented) car and take off. Kiara has no problem getting around the island, she knew the place like the back of her hand. She liked to brag about her sense of direction and how if she’d been somewhere once, nine times out of ten she could remember how to get there again. Kiara maneuvers her car easily through back streets and residential areas to avoid the traffic and the stoplights and soon they’re pulling up in the gravel outside the Adams household and parking next to the half-empty moving truck. Clementine gets out of the car first and Kiara follows cautiously behind her, not a fan of venturing into uncharted territory. There’s stacks of boxes on the front porch, with some propping open the screen door so Lyle and Gat can have a clear path as they bring in the bigger furniture — the entertainment center, the dresser, the kitchen hutch — all those kinds of things that you apparently needed “man power” for. The love seat is sitting on the lawn, little divots being dug into the grass from where the wooden legs sunk deep into the storm-saturated earth. Clementine gestures to the couch and Kiara follows her over to it, where both of them sit down and groan as they drop down into the plush cushions.

“Well, look who finally decided to join us!” Lyle calls out to Clementine as he hops off of the front porch step and crunches his way across the dried grass. He’s surprised to see a tangle of long dark hair next to Clementine as she splays out on the love seat, though he tries not to make a big deal out of it. “Who’s your friend, Tiny?” He asks, using the childhood nickname the Clementine was never fond of. Back in Florida he was always trying to encourage Clementine to go out and make more friends, or to invite the girls from the soccer team over for a barbecue or a sleepover. He wanted her to have more friends and be more social, wanted her to rely less on her sister. Clementine was always shy but after Kimber disappeared it was like what little light was left behind his daughters eyes went out completely.

“This is Kiara” Clementine gives her dad an awkward, closed-mouth smile. She stiffens up at Lyle’s use of the word friend since she’s not sure if that’s what her and Kiara were. “Her parents own The Wreck” Clementine adds.

“How nice, we’ll have to go and try it sometime, won’t we, Clem?” Lyle smiles at the two girls as he goes to pick up another packed cardboard box.

“Yeah well, I have to be there again tomorrow any ways, so…” She shrugs, thinking of getting an actual work training session from Miss Anna and not just being thrown to the wolves during the lunch rush again. Lyle raises his bushy eyebrow at his daughter in hopes that she’ll further explain, so Clementine continues, “I got a job there. That’s where I was today”

Lyle drops the big cardboard box, the contents inside rattling as they hit the ground. He’s clearly shocked by the idea that Clementine left the house to go on a walk and explore, only to come home with both a new friend and a new job. “A job? Wow, look at you, Tiny. I can hardly believe it!” He laughs. Clementine can feel her face go red and she looks over at Kiara, who’s toying with her phone to avoid overstepping into this weird, familial moment.

“It’s not a big deal or anything,” Clementine shrugs. “Hey dad is there food ready?”

“Yup, everything’s in the kitchen, you girls go on and help yourselves.” Lyle groans as he reaches for the box again, his back screaming at him to take it easy. “Make yourselves useful, though, and take a box with you when you go”

Clementine rolls her eyes as she goes to pick up a box labeled C’s Room. Kiara goes to pick up a box like Lyle suggested and Clementine panics. “Oh no, no, you don’t have to do that!” She insists but Kiara shrugs her shoulder and send her a quizzical look.

“I got it” She says casually, picking up the box like it’s no big deal.

Kiara follows Clementine up the porch and into the half-assembled house, dodging her way around randomly placed furniture, stacks of boxes, and other big plastic storage tubs. Clementine leads her down the long hallway and into what was becoming her bedroom. The girls drop the boxes in the corner, next to the other stacks of boxes, next to Clementine’s mattress that was on the floor. Kiara looks around the room, taking in what little was there and trying to figure out more about Clementine from the things around her that she could see. There’s a fish tank fully set up in the corner of the bedroom, where Clementine’s four fish are swimming along happily. Kiara walks up to the tank and touches the glass, watching as the fish follows her finger.

“You can feed them if you want” Clementine laughs, pointing to the little container of fish food off to the side of the tank.

Kiara accepts and drops a pinch of the funky smelling flakes into the water, watching the fish corral as they flapped their mouths open and closed. There’s a beat of silence as the girls watched the handful of fish, but Kiara eventually pipes up and says, “Your dad seems pretty cool”.

“He is, yeah” Clementine agrees, not caring if that was something that made her seem uncool. Her dad was trying really hard to be there and be present for Clementine, something that didn’t go unrecognized or unappreciated.

“Is it just you guys here?”

Clementine nods, knowing that this conversation would come up eventually. “Yep” She swallow hard and takes a second to figure out just how much detail she’s willing to divulge to Kiara after only a few hours of knowing her. “It’s just me, my dad, and Gat here right now.”

“Is that your brother?” Kiara asks again, and the mere idea of being related to Liam Gatwin was enough to make Clementine want to gag.

“God no,” She shakes her head, her short hair falling into her eyes. “He works on the Caprice with my dad, unfortunately the two of them are sort of a package deal. Gat and my sister dated for a really long time”

Kiara nods her head as she follows along. “So is she here? Your sister, I mean…” As an only child Kiara always thought the prospect of having an older sibling (or any sibling at all) would make life better. Especially a sister; Kiara thought having an older sister would be great, there was always someone there to keep you company, always someone there to show you cool new things.

“She’s not here right now, no” Clementine says simply. Because in Clementine’s mind, Kimber was never that far away, and she was always coming back.

Kiara seems to be satisfied with the answer to her question so the two girls go back to making small talk before heading to the kitchen to snag a bite to eat. There’s a plate piled high with chargrilled hamburgers and hot dogs ready to be fixed up to everyone’s liking, and a big family size bag of chips on the counter nearby with the bag left open crumbs spilling out. Men, Clementine thinks, swiping away the crumbs and getting a plate for herself and Kiara. Before Clementine hands off the chipped ceramic plate to Kiara, she remembers something that she said earlier that day:

“Aren’t you a pescatarian?” Clementine questions, suddenly nervous that she’d made some sort of grave mistake by inviting Kiara over to eat.

Kiara waves a noncommittal hand before grabbing the plate and loading it up. “Only when it’s convenient…”

A set of footsteps ring out from behind the two girls and Clementine turns around to see Liam Gatwin trudging towards the kitchen from the laundry room, where the side door led outside to where his trailer sat parked atop cinder blocks in the side yard.

“Nice of you to finally bless us with your presence, Clem” Gat rolls his eyes and scoots past Clementine, hip-checking her out of his way as he grabs a beer from the refrigerator. Clementine scoffs at him and hip-checks him back, because two can play that game, and she grabs herself and Kiara each a beer out of the soggy cardboard carton. Kiara starts to laugh but covers it up with a cough, suddenly becoming very interested in the food on her plate, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone.

“Rake it in while you can” Clementine deadpans, handing over the beer to Kiara while knowing that Gat wouldn’t tell on them. That was one of the rules that Kimber taught Gat if they were going to date while he worked for their dad. Rule #1: Whatever happens, we don’t tell dad. Gat mutters something rude under his breath and trudges back the way he came, leaving Clementine and Kiara in peace. Clementine hopes to god that it’s not awkward, that she didn’t make things weird by inviting Kiara back to her house and introducing her to her embarrassing dad and her sister’s jerky boyfriend. Just as she’s about to say something, to interject and ask if there was something she wanted to do or if she had someplace better to be, Kiara’s phone vibrates on the table.

She picks it up and reads the message, smiling, before turning to Clementine to ask “Do you wanna go to a party with me?” Before Clementine can really process the question, she feels herself nodding because yes, she does want to go to this party with Kiara. Clementine had already taken her fair share of risks today, what harm could one more do? It was going to be different now, here in the Outer Banks. Clementine was making sure of it.

#fic: don't you forget about me #dyfam #outer banks fic #outer banks oc #obx oc: clementine adams #kiara carrera x oc

19 notes · View notes