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#bookshop au
plethomacademia · 1 day
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wip wed: rockstar/coffee shop/bookstore au
There is an event on the GaleHeart discord for fics about Gale and Shadowheart's first time and instead of being normal or sane and just writing a little thing, I have invented an AU that is somehow both a bookstore (Gale is one of the booksellers) and coffee shop (there's a coffee shop in the bookstore and Shadowheart works there) and a rock band (Shadowheart is in a band with Karlach, Lae'zel, and Wyll) AU all at once.
Anyway! Two snippets. One is Gale showing some rizz and the other is when he first meets Lae'zel. In this universe, Lae'zel and Shadowheart are already dating but it's an open relationship and Shadowheart already has told Lae'zel about wanting to date Gale. Gale is the one who was not sure if Lae'zel truly was ok with it. And this is how he finds out that she is!
She spots him the moment that he reaches to adjust his hair, of course. Her green eyes flick over the top of the book that she is holding with one hand while she leans against the counter on the elbow of the other. Gale notes the couple on the cover of the trade paperback: a woman wearing a bodice that has been loosened and a tall man with long hair and a very open shirt. They’ve sold dozens of copies of the same book in the past week. She is standing by the time he reaches the coffee stand, her open book page down on the counter to hold her place. “You only get one free a day, you know,” she says once he has arrived. “Yes, well, I paid for the last one, so I am aware.” He puts his hands in his pockets, not sure what else to do with them. “What can I say? You are quite talented at what you do.” Jenn gives him a once over and whatever she sees makes the corner of her mouth tick up. “Maybe a decaf this time. We wouldn’t want your heart to burst, Gale.” He swallows. “Yes. Decaf sounds lovely.”
and
Gale is still leaning on the counter when he hears the sounds of at least two pairs of heavy boots behind him. Jenn looks over his shoulder and the glance she gives him is the only warning he gets before a hand claps onto his back. He clenches his jaw to keep from yelping. “Gale of the Bookshop!” he hears. The owner of the voice stands beside him, taking up the remaining space at the counter. Gale moves over a little to give the woman room, using the moment to give her a quick inspected. She has a pleasant face, brown skin with sharp features and a scattering of freckles, all framed by shoulder length brown hair. She is wearing an outfit that suggests she just came from some kind of athletic event or perhaps the gym, a black sports bra visible underneath a white tank top with large dropped armholes. He notices how her muscles bunch as she leans against the counter beside him. She smiles at him and he cannot help but return the gesture. “So, have you fucked my girlfriend yet, Gale of the Bookshop?” she says. Gale feels his cheeks heat as Jenn puts a hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. As he had expected, this was the woman that Jenn had only referred to as Lae. Her girlfriend, she had told him. One that was apparently ok with the idea of Gale taking Jenn out on a date, something that he had had a hard time believing until this very moment. He glances behind him to see the other person that he heard approach. He is met by glittering brown eyes belonging to a tall Black man. He is just as fit as Lae is, but with much longer hair styled into thick dreadlocks. Another one of Jenn’s bandmates, he presumes, although Gale does not know his name. The man looks over him toward the counter. “Man, Jenn, you know I would fuck you if you just asked,” the man says. He glances back at Gale long enough to wink at him. Gale turns to look back at Jenn, who is shaking her head. “Bullshit,” Jenn says. Now she, too, is looking at Gale. “Wyll wants to be a player but he’s the biggest softie that I know.” She smiles at him. “Present company excluded, perhaps.”
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jobean12-blog · 27 days
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Claimed
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob/Mafia AU)-Bookshop setting
Word Count: 3,513
Summary: Bucky has had his eyes on you for a long time and when he finally makes a move to claim you he's delighted at how easily you fall into his waiting arms.
Author's Note: Seb's new looks have just been so yummy, especially him in a bow tie. I LOVE! The look in the pic below is the end result of the story🫠It isn't really focused too much on his mob status but it's there and I couldn't resist a little bookshop AU in there too! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: flirting, tension, Bucky is pretty forward/dom and doesn't mince words- he goes for what he wants-light d-irty talk, fing-er-ing, o-ral (f rec), but he's sweet too :)
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Your steps are slow and easy as you stroll through the aisle, perusing the titles and letting your fingers delicately slide across the bindings.
When you find one of interest you pull it from the shelf and before you read even one word you press the aged pages to your nose and inhale deeply.
The sound of a light chuckle pulls you from your aromatic reverie and you look up with a start, catching a man watching you with a lopsided smirk.
He nods a hello before disappearing down the next aisle. You stare at the space he just vacated and feel your skin heat.
Was he really that handsome or are you still recovering from the exquisite smell of the pages of the book? Only one way to find out.
With quiet movements you slip past the end of the fiction section and turn the corner, peeking around the next bookshelf. All you see is a young woman searching through the books.
Denying your disappointment you continue down the aisle but slow when you feel the weight of eyes at your back. Instead of turning around and looking too obvious you quickly glance over your shoulder and see the mystery man once again watching you.
He looks even more handsome than he did two minutes ago.
You almost walk into the woman who’s browsing and give her a startled apology before rushing off to hide in the rare book section.
Letting out a rush of breath you clutch a book to your chest and refocus on your surroundings.
“This is my favorite section.”
You spin on a gasp and blink.
“Excuse me?” you say quietly.
“This section,” he says again, “it’s my favorite. I love old books.”
“Oh,” you answer, backing away as he steps closer.
He stops advancing and looks at the shelf, studying the bindings until he finds one that interests him.
“Mine too,” you concede softly. “And they smell amazing.”
“As good as the books in the fiction section?” he asks, eyes dancing with amusement.
You let out a light huff of laughter, feeling warm embarrassment creep over your skin.
“Better,” you finally answer.
“I’d have to agree with you there,” he says before lifting the book he holds to his face and inhaling.
You can’t stop your small intake of air as you watch him savor the smell of the pages.
“So, do you come here often?” he asks, casting his gaze down to the words.
You let his question hang in the air as you take a moment to really look him over. His soft sweater does nothing to hide his broad shoulders and powerful build and his dark hair and beard frame a beautifully sculpted jaw.
Then he lifts his eyes, directing his steady gaze on you, and your breath catches in your throat.
“Um…I do. It’s my favorite book store. I can’t afford any of these books,” you say as you motion to the titles nearby, “but no one seems to mind that I come and spend the afternoon reading them.”
“I don’t see why anyone would,” he replies.
He places the book back on the shelf and slides his hands into his pants pockets, attempting another step closer.
This time you don’t move away and he smiles.
“I have quite the collection myself,” he informs you. “You should come see it.”
“Are you a collector?” you ask.
“Something like that doll.”
You school your features at the sound of the endearment falling from his perfect lips and smile.
He extends his hand.
“James Barnes. But you can call me Bucky.”
“Hi Bucky.”
You give him your name and he takes your hand in his, bringing it to his mouth and lightly brushing his lips across your knuckles before kissing them.
As you stare at him through your lashes his lips linger and he seems unwilling to let go of your hand.
“I mean it you know. You’re welcome to come see my collection…anytime.”
He slowly releases your hand with a wink then turns on his heel toward the doorway.
“But…,” you start, not even sure why you’re calling after him to ask your next question, “how will I find you?”
He turns to face you, his eyes set with determination, and says, “don’t worry doll face. We’ll be seeing each other again very soon.”
With those parting words he vanishes into the maze of books, leaving you caught between feeling frazzled and turned on.
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After several days of warm sunshine it finally ends in a wash of chilly rain and wind. But you’re warm and cozy in the back of the bookshop, curled up on one of the old leather chairs by the window, reading by the soft light of an antique tiffany lamp.
You’re so engrossed in your book that it takes you several minutes to recognize the familiar feeling of his stare and when you look up you find Bucky leaning against a nearby bookshelf, his arms crossed, watching you.
He looks just as good as he did the last time you saw him and you realize you’re staring back.
“Hey,” you whisper, clearing your throat.
“You must really be enjoying that book,” he says, a smirk pulling at his lips.
“I am. Have you read it?”
“Not this one,” he says as he steps closer and reads the title.
His nearness draws all of your attention from the book and for the first time you take notice of the small patches of gray hair that line his beard.
“It’s worth a read,” you tell him when your eyes meet his again.
“I’ll definitely check it out doll. I’m currently reading the first edition of ‘The Canterbury Tales’ by Geo…”
“Geoffery Chaucer,” you finish in a rushed breath. “Oh my god. You have a first edition!?”
Your eyes go wide with shock as you silently contemplate how much money that must have cost him.
“But…but…”
“I told you doll face, the old and rare books are my favorite.”
“I haven’t read that one yet but it’s on my list.”
“Well you’re welcome to my copy when I’m done,” he says, smiling widely when your mouth opens in shock. “But I have to warn you that when it comes to such treasures I’m a slow reader. There are some things I like to take my time with.”
As the last sentence leaves his mouth he unabashedly lets his eyes sweep over you. When your head dips to your book under his obvious perusal he presses his fingers under your chin to lift your gaze.
“Can I get you a coffee?”
“A coffee?” you repeat, all rational thought leaving your brain at the feel of his touch.
“They just put a fresh pot on up front.”
“Oh, right. That would be great thank you, let me just get my wallet.”
“No doll. I’ll pay.”
“Well, I don’t mind at all…”
“And I do,” he says definitively. “I offered and I’ll pay.”
“Thanks,” you whisper.
When he returns with two steaming cups of coffee you sigh in contentment.
“Are you always this much of a gentleman to the women you meet in bookshops?”
You ask the question with a playful smile but when his expression doesn’t match yours you instantly regret opening your mouth, your smile wavering.
“Despite my offering, I’m having a very difficult time remembering to be a gentleman around you doll.”
“Well maybe I shouldn’t be accepting this coffee then.”
Even though your voice is little more than a whisper you make no move to give him back the drink and instead you lean in closer.
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” he murmurs.
Your breathing accelerates before you take a slow sip of the coffee.
“And maybe I like the coffee too much to give it back.”
“I just warned you that I’m having a difficult time being a gentleman. Are you provoking me doll?”
Your tongue darts out to trace the outline of your lips, the taste of coffee still lingering. “Is that what I’m doing?”
His eyes track the movement and he rubs the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, looking pleased when you inhale sharply but don’t pull away.
“Let me be clear here doll, since it seems like you enjoy playing this little game with me. I want you underneath me in my bed. I want to be buried so deep inside you that you’ll feel me for days. And I want to mark you so every other man who walks this Earth knows you’re mine.”
Your eyes widen with every word he utters and you feel goosebumps crawl over your skin when he tilts his head and moves closer until his warm breath fans your cheek.
“I just want to be up-front with you. Enjoy the coffee.”
He forces himself away, removing his hand and stepping back. And once again leaves with nothing more that the sound of his retreating footsteps.
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Life keeps you busy for the next two days but Bucky’s words are ever present, practically burned into your skin. So when you step back into the bookshop on Saturday evening you take solace in the familiar smells and sounds.
You wave hello to the barista and cashier, noticing their slight mischievous smiles as you pass by. You’re about to ask them what’s going on but then you see him and you know. Even among the shelves of beautiful books and warm lighting he stands out, his eyes boring into you.
The way he stands exudes a quiet confidence and a slow roll of heat eases it’s way through you when his unwavering stare moves over every inch of you.
Lifting your chin you hold his gaze and take your time getting your own eyeful. His button-down shirt is fitted just right with the top buttons open to reveal a gold chain and his long legs are clad in dark jeans.
He looks dangerous and sexy. And pissed.
You move toward him undeterred until you’re close enough to feel the heat radiating off him.
“Are you here to give me more warnings?” you ask.
He keeps his gaze locked on you and licks his lips.
“No. I think I was perfectly clear the first-time doll.”
“Is something bothering you, Bucky?”
“Where have you been?”
You would laugh at his nonresponse if your irritation weren’t growing hotter by the second.
“I’ve been busy. You know…work, errands…life.”
“I’ve missed you.”
You’re taken aback by his blunt and unexpected answer and can’t find the words to respond.
“I was afraid you didn’t want to see me again after what I said.”
You think back on his words for only the millionth time since he said them. An involuntary shiver runs down your spine at the memory.
“Did you get me a coffee today?”
His eyes light up in victory before he reaches behind him and hands you a cup, the drink prepared just how you like it.
For the next couple of hours the two of you browse the bookshop, spending the majority of your time in the rare section pouring over the titles in excitement and awe. You ask about his work and how he gathered his collection of rare books. He’s vague but polite with his answers, focusing most of his attention on you.
While you do most of the talking Bucky listens contentedly and intently, his constant regard slowly building and burning a hole through your enthused focus.
After a bit, it’s difficult to concentrate on anything else but him and you start to become more aware of how your body shifts closer to his, shoulders pressed together, heads close and your hand reaching out to graze his bicep.
Finally, the bookshop employees begin to let customers know they are going to close. You reluctantly put your current read back on the shelf and turn to Bucky.
“Guess it’s time to go,” you say quietly.
“I’ll drive you home doll.”
“No, no. That’s ok. I can take the train.”
“I insist,” he answers, stepping into your space and crowding you against the shelf.
“Ok,” you breathe out. “Thanks.”
His eyes drop to your lips and his hands hover at your waist, his fingertips just brushing the fabric of your shirt when the barista comes by and ushers you out.
With a release of breath you skirt past Bucky and grab your bag, heading for the exit.
Wordlessly, he holds the door of his car open for you, allowing you minimal space to edge by him into the passenger seat.
He breaks the silence with the same question floating around in your own head.
“Am I taking to you home or are you coming to my place to see my collection of books.”
“It’s late but…”
“But?”
“I would love to see them.”
“But you’re still thinking about what I said the other day, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.”
When you don’t say anything more or give him your address he drives in the opposite direction of your apartment. You contemplate your sanity the whole ride there but you’re too far gone to even want to tell him to turn around and bring you home.
His brownstone is gorgeous. Everything from the ornate edifice of the building to the classic tile in foyer exudes luxury and when you step inside the actual space you have to cover your mouth to stop any sound from escaping.
“I’m glad you like it doll,” he says from behind you, his chest brushing your back.
His lips meet the shell of your ear in a whisper. “I can give you a tour if you like or I can give you what you really want first.”
You turn to face him, his gravelly tone bringing several other things into focus. His cheeks are lightly flushed and his breathing has roughened. You sway closer and he runs his finger along your arm.
“The books…?” you question weakly.
“They’re not going anywhere,” he assures you as his fingertips trace your jaw.
“You don’t even have my phone number,” you continue. “We haven’t even been on a date yet!”
He starts to walk, pushing you slowly backward until you enter another room. Without taking his eyes off you he flicks a switch on the wall and the space is bathed in a soft glow, illuminating the ceiling high shelves of dark wood that line every wall. Every space is filled with books.
Your eyes wander for mere seconds before he grabs your chin and directs your gaze back to his.
“I think our bookshop encounters can be considered dates, don’t you?” he says softly.
Just before your back hits one of the shelves his large hand cradles your body, gently pressing you into the books. He leans closer, moving his hands to rest on either side of your head.
“Maybe…”
“Do you ever have an answer other than ‘maybe’?” he asks.
Your lips part to speak but he stops you with the brush of his mouth. “Don’t. Say. Maybe.”
Even though your last two meetings were charged with tension, this is the first time he’s really touching you and it sends shock waves through your entire body.
You breathe out a strangled ‘yes’ and arch into him, inviting more of his touch.
His mouth comes down on yours hard and hungry and the initial contact steals your breath. When you slide your hands over his chest and up to his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin, he groans and pushes you against the shelf.
You break contact with his mouth, gasping at the hardness pressing against your stomach.
“I’ve been like this since the moment I saw you,” he growls. “Do you know what that’s been like?”
He doesn’t give you a chance to answer as his mouth moves to your neck and sucks the sensitive spot underneath your ear, causing you to whimper his name.
Your head rolls to the side, begging for more and you let out a sound of frustration when he rocks his hips and keeps his mouth hovering along your skin.
“Is this what you want?” he murmurs with another grind of his hips.
Your fingers slide into his hair, raking through the soft strands as your breath catches on a gasp.
“Answer me, doll,” he demands.
“Yes. Yes Bucky. I want it.”
His hands leave your body and grip the edge of the shelf behind you. He dips his head, trailing kisses upward along your neck until he meets your earlobe, growling low.
“You’re going to spread these pretty legs for me doll and I’m going to bury my face between them.”
His tone warns you not to protest and with a strangled breath you do as you’re told, your head thumping back against the books when he slides his hand down your stomach.
“Eyes on me doll.”
You look down as he slips his hand inside your leggings, slowly peeling them, along with your panties down to your ankles.
He finds your swollen clit and circles it with teasing strokes, giving you one last hard look before his tongue flattens and he tastes you from top to bottom.
You’re already so close and when he pushes a finger inside you your eyes start to glaze over, your hips rocking rhythmically onto his hand and face.
When he pushes a second finger inside you it sends you over the edge, his tongue working you until your legs are shaking and you’re chanting his name.
“Fuck doll. You coming apart for me is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
You start to slump forward, your breathing still ragged and he runs a soft hand along your hip, holding you steady and biting gently into your skin with his fingers.
“I’m going to make you come over and over again,” he whispers as he stands and takes you in his arms, his lips caressing the shell of your ear. “With my fingers, my mouth, my cock.”
“Yes. Please,” you whimper.
He presses closer, his lips teasing along your jaw until your eyes meet. “But first we’re going to have a proper date.”
Your lips part with your objection and you’re ready to beg him for more but he presses a finger to your lips, smiling when you instantly quiet.
“If I get inside you now I’ll never be able to leave and I don’t have enough time tonight to worship you. I have business to deal with.”
 Your eyes drop to his mouth and your fingers climb up his chest.
“Ok,” you say, still breathless.
“You’re going to be my date for an auction event I have to attend tomorrow night…and then afterwards we’ll have the rest of the night. And the next morning…all day. You’ll be all mine.”
You nod, unable to find your voice again but squirm against him in desperation, your body still craving more.
“Sweet fucking hell, doll,” he hisses. “Don’t make me rush this.”
He grabs your waist so you stop moving, his eyes wandering over your face before he captures your lips in a kiss.
When he releases your mouth the set of his jaw is rigid and his fingers dig deeper into your skin.
“Tomorrow,” he murmurs. “Be ready by five.”
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You stare at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your hands over your dress for the tenth time. Before leaving Bucky’s apartment you had exchanged numbers and several more kisses then he walked you to your door, wasting no time reminding you of his promises for tonight.
Your pulse quickens as his words threaten to consume you and you wonder how you’ll ever make it through the next few hours without throwing yourself at him. His touch was like nothing else you’d experienced. Not one of his movements were wasted and his objective was clear. He was going to absolutely ruin you. And you were ready.
The light knock on your door startles you but you check the clock and see he’s right on time.
“You’re punctual,” you say as you open the door.
He looks amazing and have to bite your lip to stop your satisfied moan.
“And you’re fucking stunning,” he says as his eyes rake over every inch of you.
He continues staring and steps inside.
“Do you plan on looking at me like that all night?” you ask.
“Like what?” he replies as he reaches out for you.
“Like you need to devour me.”
“It’s all I want,” he growls, sliding his hand along the curve of your back to bring you closer.
“Do we really need to go to this auction?” you purr against his lips.
His fingers splay against your back and he brushes his nose to yours. “I do doll face, but if you need my hand between your legs first, all you have to do is ask me.”
Before you can form the words for a weak protest, his hand dips between your bodies and starts to lift the hem of your dress.
“Say it doll. I want to hear you say the words."
“Please Bucky,” you gasp. “Give me your fingers. I need your fingers.”
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 @randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose @lizette50 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @littleseasiren @goldylions @kmc1989
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
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fairy porn crisis
for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'bookstore au' wc: 964 rated m cw: dirty talk, implied sexual content tags: bookshop owner eddie, steve is having a sexuality crisis but subtly, flirting, getting together, modern au
📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖
"Thanks for covering for me, Wayne," Eddie said as he set his bag down behind the front desk, slightly out of breath from running from the bus. "Won't happen again."
"'S alright, son. Everything go okay with the counselor?" Wayne sipped from his mug, probably his fourth or fifth cup of coffee since he opened the shop that morning.
"Yep. Still on track to graduate in May."
Wayne's stipulation when he "sold" the bookshop to Eddie was that he still get his degree as backup. "Bookselling is a dangerous game and I won't have ya strugglin' if somethin' fails."
"Thatta boy," Wayne clapped him on the shoulder. "Been a slow morning. But your favorite customer is in the back."
Eddie felt his face heat up.
"He's not my favorite."
"Sure he isn't." Wayne rolled his eyes. "I'm off to get a beer with Dave. Call if you need me."
Eddie gave him a thumbs up as he checked over his emails, the one thing Wayne was terrible about doing when he was covering the store. There weren't many, never really were on Tuesdays.
He waited for Wayne to leave, the door chiming with his exit.
He jumped up and made his way around the counter, walking towards the back room hastily.
He found Steve sitting on the beanbag placed in the corner, book in his lap, face bright red.
Eddie squinted until he could see what book he was reading and nearly passed out.
His Ring was the first book in a series focused entirely on a group of queer mythical creatures. It was the only book of the series Eddie had read, and he'd only admit it under risk of death.
It wasn't that it wasn't good. It's just that it was basically porn.
And this one in particular focused on two male fairies, one who was gay and one who spent the entire first half of the book having a bisexuality crisis.
Steve was reading it with the prettiest blush on his face.
Steve, who up until this moment, passed as the straightest human being Eddie had ever met.
"Have you gotten to the part where Ereldi has to sit on Brelend's lap for an entire dinner?" Eddie asked.
Steve jumped and slammed the book closed, pushing it under his legs as if Eddie hadn't already called him out. "What are you talking about?"
"Stevie, I'm the last person to judge your reading habits. But I do have to ask why the sudden interest in queer fairy porn? You're usually reading sports memoirs and doing word searches."
In other words, 'are you interested in testing out your sexuality with me? I can pretend to be a mythical being if needed.'
"Just needed a change of scenery?"
"Are you asking me or telling me?"
Steve's blush deepened, and fuck, Eddie was about to be so unprofessional. Hopefully he wouldn't lose a customer over it, but it was a risk he had to take.
It's just that sometimes Eddie could swear Steve was watching him while he shelved books or swept the front room floors. And sometimes he caught him staring at him during his weekly storytime for kids where he gave out free books and cookies.
And Eddie always wanted to have Steve in his lap.
So.
"I." Steve refused to make eye contact, a sure sign that something was going on. "I just got curious. Heard someone talking about it and wanted to see if they were telling the truth."
"And were they?"
Steve didn't answer, so Eddie decided it was now or never.
"You know," he took a few steps closer to Steve. "I'm not usually one for those books. But there's something about the way they paint a very clear picture of how Ereldi rides Brelend in the forest that just draws me in." Another few steps. "Actually, Ereldi reminds me a bit of you."
Steve visibly gulped.
"But you wouldn't be interested in riding someone would you, Stevie? Prefer women to hop onto your lap and go for a ride?" Eddie's heart was racing.
And then it stopped completely when Steve gave the most unexpected answer he could have possibly given.
"I'd be interested in riding you."
Steve's wide eyes stared back at Eddie, daring him to make a joke, daring him to laugh.
Eddie wouldn't joke or laugh about this. He wasn't wasting this chance.
"Is the forest a requirement or could I go lock the front door and take you upstairs?"
Okay, so he couldn't not make a little joke.
"Forest sounds messy. Upstairs."
"Oh, I plan to make a mess of you regardless of location, sweetheart," Eddie leaned over Steve, foreheads touching, smirk growing as Steve's eyes closed. "Won't even have to get you hard, huh? The book did all the work for me."
Steve tilted his head back, lips puckering, searching for contact from Eddie's.
Eddie pulled away. "I close up in ten. You know the way upstairs?"
Steve's eyes blinked open as he nodded.
God, he was gonna be fun.
"You wanna be a good boy and wait for me up there?" Steve nodded and stood from the chair, wobbling slightly as he tried to gain his balance. "I want you naked in bed when I get up there, got it?"
"Um, I've never-" Steve started.
"Oh, sweetheart. I know. It's written all over you. I'm gonna take real good care of you, though. Better than anything you would read in that book."
"Eddie?"
"Yeah, sugar?"
"I really like you."
Eddie heard what he wasn't saying, knew without a doubt that he had to do this right or risk scaring him away from more than just the store.
"I really like you, too, Stevie." Eddie kissed his cheek. "You're in good hands."
"I know."
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northlt · 8 months
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Au where Remus and Regulus own a bookstore/library together and across the street James and Sirius own a record store
Peter is a regular customer in both places
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youneedsomeprompts · 11 months
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~ LOVE BETWEEN THE LINES ~ BOOKSHOP AU PROMPTS
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requested by: @theskyrose
Feel free to use and reblog!
being embarrassed to buy books at the bookshop for the third time this week and it's always the same employee who serves them
sharing the bookshop as a mutual safe space
walking through the bookshelves and dreaming of another life
"Is there something you can recommend?"
coming back to the bookshop just to see if a certain copy is still there, not knowing someone watches their daily action
"You should start working here. You're here every day anyway. And the employee discount could save you some money."
A secretly puts out recommendations for B on a shelf they noticed B always approaching first
"You're our best customer."
the atmosphere in the bookshop helps them to battle their anxiety
knowing a lot about the other just by observation but never having talked
shy smiles between the bookshelves
"I thought no one knew this book existed."
using the books in the other's arms as inspiration for their own to-be-read list
"You have impeccable taste."
making character analyses by the books the customers are buying
running their fingertips over the spines of the books because everything is as familiar as home
walking into a bookshop for the first time and immediately bumping into the sweetest person
"You read it, you buy it." "That's not how it's really working, though."
having whispered arguments about books between the shelves
"But you're not really reading all of this?!"
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nuclearanomaly · 9 days
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A Little Lady 🌸 A Royal Rockin' Seneschal
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loserharrington · 1 year
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redrawing some old art. ronance bookstore au :)
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i-am-a-l0st-gh0st · 6 months
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All the stars aligned- Alhaitham X Gn!Reader
"And what name should I put?"
"Alhaitham"
T/w- Bookshop au
Summary- What happens when a pretty man like him walks into a bookshop?
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Working in a bookshop was lots of fun, when you weren’t serving customers or packing shelves you were able to take a moment to enjoy your book. The best part though was seeing the people who walked in. You were able to see their tastes in books, there styles of clothing and how at peace they looked. For most people book are an escape of sorts, they replace the life you have with a new one every time you pick up a book.
Today was one of your best days in the months you’d worked here so far. You hardly had any people walk in which meant you had time to sit and relax. You picked up a book you had been meaning to read for so long. Finally I have time to read. Well that was until he walked in.
He looked perfect. Perfect was probably an understatement, but no other words could describe him. A tight turtleneck, a lovely tricorn black coat, and his pants were an oxford grey. He had a black pair of headphones perfectly placed over the top of his smoky grey hair which had green tips. The male walked into the bookstore without so much as a glance in your direction, which you were glad he didn’t, he would have certainly noticed the colour of your face. You could feel your face growing hotter with each second he was in there. God what was he doing to you.
“I’d like this one, please.” His facial expression showed barely any at all.
“S-sure.” Archons why were you stuttering? “Have you read any of her other books?”
He only nodded, still keeping that same expression. Was he always this cold towards people? You nodded, not sure how to respond even though you asked the question. You weren’t always like this with people who walked in. It just seemed to be this man in particular.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome to enjoy the book.” You flashed him a warm smile, which he did not return.
A few week later the same guy returned to the book but this time looked at you when you walked in. Had you forgotten about him? Of course not! This time he came up to the counter with a book by another one of your favourite authors.
“Guess we have similar tastes.” You added a little chuckle for good measure. You were just trying to be polite. He was sort of on the verge of being rude, but also not.
“I guess so.”
This continued for months, he came in, bought a book you made small talk, then he left. That was until you decided to break the loop and ask for his number.
“Y-you want my number?” Yes! You’d broken his stone face.
"Yes I do." You might have seemed confident but in reality you were a mess.
"Oh alright then." He quickly looks around like he's looking for something. "You got any paper?"
"Ah yes here."
He hands you the bit of paper and you can feel yourself sweating with anxiety.
Oh my god oh my god. He gave me his number!
"And what name should I put."
He smiled for the first time since you'd seen him, god it made him look even more beautiful. "Alhaitham."
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bi-wan · 1 year
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[AU] They meet in a bookshop.
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bunnyswritings · 1 year
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A few Bookshop AU ideas
A works at a small hole-in-the-wall bookstore, where they meet B one day, a new customer who just moved to this part of town. They bond over their shared love of books. But both are unaware that B has actually moved into the apartment unit opposite A, and that they were already neighbours from the get-go. (Bonus: B is an actually the author of A's favourite book series; overtime, B realises that A has been a huge fan of their books for years, but tries to keep his identity a secret.)
A works in a book subscription service where subscribers are linked up with an employee for personalised book recommendations, based on factors like personality traits, TV show / movie preferences, hobbies etc. B joins as a subscriber, and A and B communicate with each other through email to find out B's book genre preferences. This emailing back and forth goes on; it starts off as once a month but becomes more frequent along with their growing bond. One day, A asks B out for a date to a book / writing exhibition.
A is a writer who has suffered from writer's block for months, but finds inspiration in B, a bookshop owner whom he ultimately falls in love with. B teaches A how to let loose a little, and take things as they come. A eventually bases his next book on their journey and love story, and surprises B with the first copy of their published book.
A is a doctor with a huge love for reading, and intends to attend a fan-sign event with their favourite author. Unfortunately, A runs late on the event day due to an emergency at work, and only makes it at the last minute. To A's dismay, however, B takes the last remaining spot for the fan-sign, making A upset as they leave in a huff. B senses A disappointment, and runs after A to gift them the signed copy of the book.
A discovers B in A's usual spot at the bookstore, one that they have been going to every week without fail, for the past year.
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userholland · 2 years
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between the lines | frat!tom
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finals week is here and you’re an emotional wreck, to say the least. not only is your schedule jam-packed, but there are things going on in your life as well. you need to cram, you need to meet due dates and frankly, you could use a drink to get through it all. the night you go to a frat party, you see a cute and familiar face that you have to see every time you go to the small bookstore and he’s behind the cash register.
PAIRING : frat!tom & college!fem!reader
GENRE : college, book shop, love at first sight, dramatic love confessions, wedding date, & a long (too long tbh) slow burn
WARNINGS : tom being sarcastic but cute, lots of fluff + corny dialogue, toxic parents and divorce, a light/tasteful make-out, cursing, drinking, trust issues, both reader and tom being bibliophiles (annotations & recommendations blah blah), etc.
WORD COUNT : 13.9k
A/N : mostly, inspired by an another great idea @venomsilk gave me <3 🧸🌤 🍰 dedicated to her. this is for her valentine’s celebration (a few months late, oops. but school / mental health checks happened so respectable hiatus on this fic) and i was so happy and excited to write it tbh ! i've been more into the romance ya novels lately so i really wanted to give this fic a lot of love and filled it with inspiration from books i've read. pls rec me some bc this summer i want beach reads. anyways adore and appreciate my venomsilk besthie so much. bear with me in this fic, but hope everyone enjoys ! also this header is originally from here! i just added the shredded border
𑁍 masterlist 𑁍
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Books. They were a common comfort you turned toward in times of stress, sadness or simply something to make the time go by on the bus ride to campus.
The small bookstore, that you often went to on the weekends, was unique. Most books were donated or found, then there was a small selection of brand new editions on the circular table when you entered the shop.
From the tall shelves filled with fictional adventures to the big, voluptuous, and green plants decorated around the front window, everything about this place was perfect. But, the dark, curly-haired cashier with a soft smile was a bonus to your shopping experience.
Every time you approached the counter, heat would suddenly radiate from your face and your heart fluttered when the boy rose his head to meet your eyes. Sometimes, you caught him reading a classic novel, other times, he was taking his time to finish homework when the store didn’t have but one or two people browsing.
His name is Tom, once overhearing one of his co-workers call him Tommy. You didn’t know anything about him, but it fit his charming yet approachable appearance. He wore a bunch of flannels with the sleeves rolled up and a solid color tee to match underneath, the occasional baseball tee or henley if the temperature in the store was too warm.
You didn’t mean to giggle the time you walked up to him and his cheeks were bright pink from how hot it was inside compared to the coming winter chill changing the fall weather.
Once or twice, you wondered if he remembered you. It sounded egotistical, questioning your importance to some stranger, but you couldn’t help it. He gave you recommendations or comments on the books you purchased, persuasive enough to burn a bigger hole in your pocket for decent literature.
The way he smiled and giggled when you had small talk, all from asking each other how your days had been. If it was a selling tactic he used; it was working.
Some days, romanticizing simple interactions like this made life less lonely and stressful. Tom was simply a crush; just another cute guy you could think about when you think about your future and the little fantasies in between your daydreams. It was nice for a bit and then you snapped back into reality, concentrating on your studies and looking forward to getting a degree. 
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*
Tom took advantage of the lazy afternoon shift between his classes.
There were little to no customers, free time to study and complete silence unless he turned on the music over the speakers throughout the store. While the minimum wage didn’t seem worth it, Tom much more preferred working at his Aunt and Uncle’s bookstore than to getting ripped off from writing English essays for his “so-called” fraternity brothers. 
As he sat at his post behind the register, comfortably wearing his black Carhartt jacket, with his head lowered so his brown curls hung down. He unknowingly pouted as he made bright-red corrections on his rough draft for one of his final papers. Even though Tom had three to four other final papers of his own to do, he was doing essays for other people. 
His final paper for his Advanced English Romanticism class was way more important and frankly, all he wanted to do was pass with high grades, but earning money for next semester’s tuition by easily bullshitting Shakespeare’s literature theories or creating basic fictional, short stories for people who were barely sober 12 hours out of the day made his eyes wander to the rough drafts in his worn backpack.
The ink imprinted his, sloppy but small, handwriting on the side of his hand, and the end of the pen had a few bites when he was re-thinking his sentences and paraphrasing.
Suddenly, the bell above the entrance door rang, not phasing Tom to look up since people came in and out, but he glanced up when he noticed the familiar color of the jacket you wore. He had seen you a few times, wearing that same navy blue jacket with a red and black stripe going down the sleeves. 
A gloss filmed over his bright-brown eyes but looked away once you walked toward the back, admiring the books placed perfectly around the best-sellers table at the center of the store. You were the same, pretty girl who wandered around the stop for an hour, maybe two, seeking a book and nothing else. 
Each one that came to Tom’s counter was a different genre from a worn-out classic or a fairly used historical fiction– it intrigued him so, he’d list a few recommendations. After a bit of, what he considered, flirting, you left with a big smile until two or three days passed and there you were again, searching and reading in between the numerous aisles.
“Think fast!”
Tom already flinched, but a soccer ball thumped against the side of his head and he immediately pressed his palm on his temple.
“Jesus…” Tom hissed under his breath, his eyes giving a dirty look toward his friend, “A ‘hello’ would have sufficed.”
“What? You’re not happy to see me?” Harrison grinned, holding the ball under his arm.
Tom quickly retorted, “Why are you bothering me at work?” 
Harrison tilted his head.
 “Because I cherish every second we spend together…” He smiled before rolling his eyes, “What do you think? We have a meeting at the house in twenty minutes. C’mon, no one is even here, it’s your family’s store and you can leave when your manager is on his phone in the back office–”
Tom opened his mouth, but no words came out. His eyes shifted to you, past Harrison’s figure, watching as you flipped through another book on the same shelf; a hardcover version of The Picture of Dorian Gray.
Basic, but not a bad read. Tom thought.
“Who’s that?” Harrison asked, “She’s pretty.” He glanced over his shoulder, but you had no idea that the two boys were glaring as you concentrated on the text.
“No one.” Tom said in an annoyed tone, messily pushing his books and paper into his worn-out backpack.
The rosy pink tint of the apples of Tom’s cheeks made Harrison slowly smile, “Oh, Tommy. You’re squirming. Is she an ex? Hookup? Maybe TA?”
Tom sighed, “If we leave now, I’ll still help you with your sports management paper tonight.”
Harrison nodded, “Geez, she must be someone if you make that threat.”
You couldn’t help but lift your head at their commotion, watching Tom lead the way. Harrison trailing behind with his duffle strap on his shoulder and spinning the soccer ball in his hands, but your glances connected as they passed. Being the brother he is, Harrison announces, “He has a thing for you! Big ole crush! Do you have his number-”
Tom pushed on Harrison’s back hard, forceful enough to get him through the door. He wanted to avoid you noticing the bright tint red painted on the apples of his cheeks from the embarrassment he couldn’t escape.
Your heart was in your throat, a warmness spreading throughout your body from the attention. Half-smiling, you looked back down at the book in your shaking hands. While it wasn’t your first choice, this happening made you want to buy it to remember this moment.
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*
The feeling of falling shocked your nerves, jerking your head up to make sure you were still in your seat. You hadn’t noticed you fell into a catatonic state, blankly staring at your laptop with little to no brain function. The brightness of the small screen gleamed against your face, making you blink your eyes a few more times before hearing the multiple cracks break in your back.
This was being a university student. More specifically, an English major.
As much as you loved a hardcover book, money thought differently. Instead of flipping through thick pages with a smell that comforted you, those same texts flashed on whatever device you could afford it on. 
The biggest misconception of being an English major is that you like to read everything and anything. Completely wrong. You liked to read the books that were like a warm hug after a rainy, cold day or made you weep until mascara burned the corners of your eyes. 
The details you paid attention to within the novels you kept close are the reason you loved to read. But, classics and sonnets that you were forced to analyze to write papers about what they mean bored you mindlessly, wondering why picking English was even an option when it’s just reading a language you know.
You turned to your tall bookshelf, perfectly placed in the corner of the room, and books of various sizes overflowed it like a garden. Some rest on the top of it after you ran out of room on your shelves.
Each had their own story as to how they were placed on the old wooden ledges; buying them brand new from bookstores, finding worn-out classics from the thrift store or they were collecting dust in your parent’s attic. But, lately most had come from the Joel & Anne’s bookstore–you blamed Tom.
Just as you wanted to pick up The Picture of Dorian Gray, a notification popped up in the corner of your laptop’s screen. It was a brief email from your professor, granting an extension to the midterm paper due for those who requested it and you couldn’t have been more revealed.
Thank God, you thought.
The pace of your heart slowed down, the cracking of your spine as you straighten your back at your desk.
Falling on top of the fluffy comforter of your bed, your body’s muscles relaxed. The tension disappeared from your chest as your heavy eyes fluttered close. In and out of sleep, the buzz of your phone caused your head to quickly rise. Half-awake, you leaned up to grab it then plummet back into the soft sheets.
“Since there’s an extension for your paper, does that mean I’ll see you at the Delta Epsilon ABC party tomorrow?” Your best friend, Lillian, texted.
“ABC?” You typed with a furrow brow.
“Anything But Clothes.” She replied with a tongue emoji.
Reluctant, you wanted to say “no” and take the extended due date seriously, but from how stressed out the paper was making you, a party didn’t sound like a bad idea.
You sealed your lips while typing, but once you sent “What should I wear?”
After Lillian pitched a few last-minute ideas, you exited from your text messages then placed your phone on the bedside table. Rubbing your dry eyes, you get back up to turn off your lamp and other lights. 
As you stroll to the desk, you trace your finger over the trackpad of the laptop to exit from the email. Surprisingly, you forgot about the already-opened browser of the book you’ve been hunting down for your paper. You were so exhausted, you spaced out in those few minutes to probably forget about it.
Shakespearean plays were the subject of your paper, researching for hours on end about this ancient man’s entire collection and existence. His missing years, his creation of words we still use today, anything that pinpointed a significance in the English language was stored somewhere in the paper your fingers cramped to write for the past week.
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*
Tom downed the last Red Bull from his mini fridge, compressing the aluminum can in his hand then throwing it in trash. There it sat with the other empty cans and overflow of crumbled drafts.
He couldn’t remember the last time he blinked today yet his fingers were typing any of the words coming up in his head. The sixty bucks he was being paid for it was his only motivation to finish the last lines about the rise of the Roman Empire.
Shockingly, it wasn’t as difficult as told to him– but usually, it’s the people who don’t pay attention in their classes that find it hard and in their way. At least if he did it, there were rewards other than a high grade.
As Tom pressed tab to indent, he thought of how you smiled at him. He hoped it was him and not Harrison being cocky from what he said. He pondered what would happen if he stayed, walking back to you and saying that his attraction was true. But, Tom was more confident in his mind and he couldn’t actually imagine seeing you after how embarrassed he felt from Harrison’s announcement.
“Hey!” Harrison said as he knocked on Tom’s open door, expecting nothing but what he saw– Tom’s ass glued to his desk chair and the bright, white screen of his laptop staring back at him.
Tom turned his head, rolling his eyes at the blonde, blue-eyed devil, “Come here to make any of my other of my secrets known to the public?” He continued to jot down any last corrections on the paper he’d been working on for hours.
Harrison chuckled, jumping onto Tom’s bed, “It’s not like you were going to say anything to her if I didn’t, now she knows. ‘You’re welcome’ would be the correct answer, Mr. English smartass.” 
“See, you’re saying ‘you’re welcome’ when I didn’t ask for your help in the first place. She’s just a girl that comes to the store a lot and I just…” Tom shrugged, tossing his pen down, “I happen to notice her.”
“Happen to notice?” Harrison scoffed. “Dude, you were staring at her so hard at her that I thought your eyes were going to pop out. Blink once in a while so if this girl does notice, she doesn’t think you’re creepy.”
Tom rolled his eyes, “She’s not some girl, her name is Y/N.”
Fuck. Tom thought, now realizing how much he corrected Harrison out of habit.
Harrison instantly smirked, “So, you know her name too? What else are you hiding so I can brief her in on it… but more subtle this time.”
“H, why are you in my room at one in the morning?” Tom asked with furrowed his brows.
“You’re going to the ABC party, right? You’ll be there, participating for once, and having fun. Maybe getting high or laid will loosen you up. ”
“I can’t, I have these papers to finish for the guys who will be partying downstairs all night and if I’m lucky, I can get paid double if I ask them for their fee while they’re drunk.” Tom smirked.
“C’mon. One party! It’s a few hours out of the whole semester… Before you have to go back home for the holidays and do nothing but watch Christmas movies and read books for pleasure.” 
Tom replied with silence.
“Maybe you could invite Y/N. It could be a nice romantic gesture that your books talk about, right?”
“So, invite her to a party where everyone is wearing anything but clothes and shit-faced within the first hour.” Tom took a pregnant pause, “Yeah, I’ll pass on that.”
Harrison knew not to pry anymore, not planning to give Tom shit for wanting to do well in school. Unlike most of the trust-fund raised kids, Tom paid his dues from paycheck to paycheck. Maintaining high grades wasn’t only for his pride, but his academic scholarship that discounted his tuition. 
He admired Tom for his natural work ethic despite it interfered with his social life. Luckily the other brothers saw Tom as an asset, but it was for their own selfish reasons. Harrison was a month younger than Tom, but still felt protective of him as if he were an older brother.
“Okay, well. I have a ‘Beware of Dog’ sign if you want to use it as shorts tonight.” Harrison winked before leaving to his room.
Tom chuckled, but his smile slowly turned into a frown. The desperate need to earn cash for his two semesters’ tuition consumed him the past four months, realizing that this term was practically done and he had done nothing else but work.
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚* 
You could say that having caution tape wrapped around your body was ironically hazardous. The plastic was constricting, too afraid to bend over or you may fall and never get back up. While it was cute in thought, you looked in the mirror from head to toe and knew this could end in disaster. 
With too many intrusive thoughts, you were about to change back into your grey sweatpants and grab an oversized shirt from the dryer. But, just as you took a last glance at your reflection, Lillian came right through the front door and sported a dress made out of bright green and white condom wrappers fastened together with tape and safety pins. 
It was totally Lillian.
You furrowed your eyebrow, “Did you walk all the way here wearing that?” 
But she ignored your comment from the stun of seeing you actually wearing a costume.
Lillian gasped, “You look hot! That caution tape was a good call.”
“I feel like this tape is going to fall off at any second.” You groaned, grabbing your college t-shirt from the basket on top of the dryer, but Lillian held your wrist.
“What are you doing?” She retorted. 
You sighed, “Changing into something that lets me breathe and walk.”
“Oh, don’t be a party pooper. It’s only a few hours.” She said as she walked to the mirror, fixing her strawberry-blonde waves. She pushed them from the front of her body then behind her shoulders, wondering if the prominence of her collarbones made a difference.
“A few hours of guys asking me what’s underneath this caution tape.” You mumbled under my breath, and she moved you in front of the mirror.
“Y/N, I made a promise to you at the beginning of the semester to make sure you have an amazing last year of college… and I always keep my promises.” She said, her head resting on your shoulder as the two of you glanced at your absurd outfits  in the mirror, “And you look too good to not go out...”
You chuckled, “Are you pouting?”
“Depends, does it guilt trip you want to go to the party more?” Lillian jeered, giving you a light squeeze around your waist.
You scrunch your nose, “Only a little.”
The two of you pre-gamed with a fruity, alcoholic seltzer, which barely gave any buzz, then ventured downstairs to the Uber waiting in front of your apartment building.
As Lillian snapped photos of herself from the lighting of the warm streetlights passing by, you noticed Joel & Ann’s bookstore in the darkness. It made you think of what Tom might have been doing tonight, wondering what his life was like outside the store.
You blushed thinking back at the fond moment of his friend shouting he liked you, keeping your head up for most of the day. As harmless as it was, it lingered in your mind and turned into scenarios of how you would enlighten that comment. 
Would you make the first move? or has he already and you didn’t notice? Overthinking didn’t help, but you needed to come up with something good to respond to it whenever you’d see him again.
Once you arrive on Fraternity Row, the Delta Epsilon house was anything but quiet. Everyone was following the rules of the party, wearing anything but clothes in different and creative ways.
A brunette passing by wore a makeshift dress, the sparkling Christmas wrap tailored with tape to fit around her slim body. Another guy wore paper-mache shorts made from Superman comic book pages— even a couple of girls sporting the same outfit idea as Lillian which didn’t make her happy.
You hold back a laugh, “Well, at least your wrappers are green. Hers are purple… and Trojan.” 
“Ugh, now I’m gonna blend in.” She pouted her glossed lips, “C’mon, let’s go see where the drinks are.”
The music played loud enough that you could feel the bass vibrating your teeth. Lillian hooked your arm around hers as she pulled you toward the bar set up in the corner of the dim lit room.
Everyone managed to commit to the theme of tonight, impressed by the sustainability people reached like wearing a dress made of streamers with your university’s colors or pants made out of cardboard beer boxes. The surprises and creativity seemed limitless tonight, but there was no one who caught your attention.
“Are you looking for someone?” Lillian asked as she poured brown liquor into her plastic cup, spilling a bit on the counter when she shifted the pour into your cup on the counter.
“Kind of.” You mumbled, “You know that guy at the bookstore that I talk about? Tom?”
Lillian giggled, “Oh. The guy you practically stalk.”
“I don’t stalk him.”
“Yeah, right. You’ve just never spoken to him other than giving him money for a book and your literature small talk.” She joked, but it sort of hit a nerve. You almost wanted to prove to her that you could talk to him, you were just nervous as to what to say past your total amount and tax.
“Okay, but you don’t have to put it that way.” You pouted, but she handed you a drink.
“Well, you can forget about bookstore boy, and we can have a little fun tonight. Cheers!” She diverted your attention to your cups, pushing them together before she took a long sip.
You watched her, but didn’t drink with her. Instead your eyes shifted around the excited crowd, but no luck in finding your crush with brown curls and shiny brown eyes to match. You twisted your lips and took a small sip of your bitter beverage, squeezing your eyes shut as it burned the inside of your throat.
“What is that?” You hissed.
“I don’t know, but it gets you loose.” Lillian jokes, hugging you quickly before she pulled you to where everyone was dancing… or what could be described as dancing. It was more like drunken movement between strangers while flashed by neon colors in sequences. 
Trying to dance with Lillian in a restraint costume didn’t help until there were two taps on your shoulder. You quickly turned around, acquainted with Tom’s blonde friend— just dressed in shorts made out of the big cloth from Twister.
“Hey! You’re the cute girl from the bookshop, right?” Harrison chuckled.
“Yeah! And you’re the best friend of the cute guy at the bookstore?” You confidently said, raising your eyebrows.
Harrison shared the same expression, “Cute?” He smirked, “I bet he’d love to hear that if he were down here… Hey, why don’t you do him a favor and try to get him down here to have fun.”
“Why? Where is he?” You asked over the music.
“Upstairs in his room, working on his papers… C’mon, I bet he’d be happy to see you.”
Harrison winked at you before turning back to the girl he was dancing with, tipping his head back to down his beer. When searching for Lillan, you saw her dance with some of your shared friends by the unlit fireplace. 
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*
With the door cracked open, Tom listened to the muffled music below as well as the occasional conversation passing by to find an empty room. The bright light from the lamp on his desk shined against his paper. Although you remained silent, Tom took a quick sip of his to-go coffee and blinked his tired, dry eyes a few times. 
After two light knocks, Tom assumed it was Harrison, once again, asking him to come downstairs, but instead his heart shot up to his throat when he saw you standing in his doorframe. He was even more surprised seeing caution tape wrapped around your body like a tacky, shiny dress.
“Hey! Hey, nice to see you… especially with your new look.” Tom jeered.
You giggled, “I could say the same, never really see the bottom half of you.”
The two of you shared a warm laugh before Tom shyly asked, “What- What are you doing here?” 
“My friend sort of invited me at the last second, then your friend told me that I should come up here and try to urge you to come downstairs… possibly in a costume.” You trailed.
Tom licked his lips, “I appreciate it, but I’m working on some papers tonight. I want to get them done before tomorrow morning”
“A few papers over a party in your own fraternity?”
He hummed, “Well, papers I write for ten dollars a page. Paid in cash or credit… usually.” Tom smirked, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair.
“Do I even want to know the other options?” You joked, slowly walking further into the room.
His blush was hard for him to hide, so he lowered his head down to hide the rosiness on his cheeks when he stood up to stretch. As Tom reached his arms over his head, the end of his shirt lifted a bit and you could see his v-line that disappeared past the band of his Calvin Klein boxers. 
Making you blush in return, you rub the back of your neck and look at some of the posters lazily taped on his dull, baby blue-colored walls. Shockingly, not one model from Playboy or Sports Illustrated was staring back at you in a tiny string bikini, rather there were posters of his favorite bands, a few classical authors by his bookcase and distressed movie posters of The Empire Strikes Back and Jaws above his full bed.
“Sorry, it’s kind of a mess.” Tom tossed a few t-shirts on his bed in his hamper by the door.
He said that, but it was probably the cleanest guy’s room you ever saw. Besides the clothes scattered around, the bed was made and his desk was fairly organized. There was even a trash can–with a trash bag to line it.
“Mess? I wish my room looked like this half the time.” You jeered, walking over to his bookcase, “A bookcase says a lot about someone to me.”
Tom chuckled, leaning on his desk, “And what does mine tell you?”
You awkwardly sat down on the end of his bed, trying to cross your leg over the other. You tried not to show that the plastic coiled around your body was uncomfortable, but one wrong move and you thought that you may expose yourself to Tom at any second.
“You okay?” He asked, “I don’t want to assume, but you look very tense.”
“Wow, it’s that noticeable.” You joked back, Tom chuckling in return. “Yeah, it wasn’t my idea to come tonight so, I got stuck wearing this.” You added, running your hand over the material.
He could see the pout on your face, maybe even a bit of embarrassment, so he suggested, “Do you want to change? I can give you something to wear. Not as much plastic, but more comfortable.” He joked.
Your face heated as you stood up, watching him pull clothes from his drawers. He grabbed a dark-blue Tottenham sweatshirt with a faded logo and baggy, gray sweatpants with your university logo embroidered by the hip.
“Here, hope these are okay.”
“Trust me, anything but this dress is fine.” You grinned, taking them from him. Your hand grazed his, making him gulp as you pulled the clothes to you, “Do you mind if I change in here?”
Tom raised his eyebrows, not realizing he wasn’t responding until he nodded, “Yeah! Yeah, I can just turn around.” He reassured, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes searched around his room, trying to fixate on any small object.
Like the vinyl player in the corner on top of the rack, something he bought out of being impulsive. At the time, his dad had given him some old records that he had found in the attic from spring cleaning, music that was popular when he was Tom’s age. Tom stopped listening to them after–
“Well, I certainly look the part of being a frat dude.” You jeered, turning for him.
“I think you look pretty...”
Way to sound creepy, Tom thought.
“Pretty nice!” He quickly added, trying to save himself from embarrassment.
You smiled at his shy compliment before glancing at the papers scattered around his desk, “So, what are you working on?”
“Uh, themes in Frankenstein. It’s actually my final paper.”
You arched your eyebrow, but admired how he had three different drafts and all of them were marked in red. As you leaned further down to read, Tom quickly shuffled the papers, “It’s not really my best. I’ve been through every book talking about Mary Shelley and her reason for this book... It’s pretty scandalous if you ask me.”
God. He was so dorky, it almost made him charming.
Just as you were going to say your joking comment, the music got louder downstairs and you two could feel the heavy vibration of the bass through the carpet.
“Is your paper the only reason you’re up here by yourself?”
“Well, technically you’re up here with me so, am I really by myself?” Tom shrugged.
You chuckled, “Don’t deflect.”
Tom licked his lips, letting out a long sigh, “I just need enough cash to cover tuitions, and saving up for grad school too. My family has gotten tied up in money and my friend, Harrison, said that he could help me be in a frat and I could make more connections. So, I’m not really here to have fun, more like just doing what I can to make some money and add to my resume.” 
“I know we just met, but… Can I give you some advice?” You sighed.
He naively nodded, his eyes turning glassy.
“You need to have some fun while you’re still in college.” You giggled, not meaning to sound mean, but you didn’t have to touch Tom to know he was a tense guy.
Tom responded with a nervous chuckle, “I’ve had… fun. I have fun. This party theme just isn’t really for me.” He protested.
“Well, I can’t disagree with you there.” You grinned, glancing at your now-cozy outfit, “Then what do you want to do tonight? What’s your fun thing?... other than reading the Mary Shelley scandal.”
His eyes searched around the room, then hummed, “It would be nice to have some peace and quiet… maybe work on my papers–”
You interpreted, “Okay, no, no. You’re not working on any papers, it’s about having fun. So, let’s go somewhere you think is fun.”
He smirked which made you think that he had a good idea, rather he said, “We can go to the bookstore.”
Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea.
You leaned against his desk, “Really? How?”
“My aunt and uncle own it.” He smirked.
“Ah. So, you’re like a bookstore nepotism baby. How lucky.” You grinned, cringing at your own jokes on the inside. But, it’s not like flirting was either of your fortes.
“Some kids get into movie premieres and have luxury cars, I have books and the cat that hangs in the front window until he goes back to his owners across the street.” 
“I always wondered if that was your guys’ cat.” You smiled.
Tom nodded, “His name is Milo and he loves eating our plants and sleeping on the classic novels.” 
You shared another light laugh before you said, “What are we waiting for? Get your jacket on.”
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*
Once you took a step outside the house, the night breeze felt cool against your sweaty skin. The fresh air was a relief to your lungs once you walked out of the humid-filled frat house, like you had forgotten how clean it could smell outside. 
Although the bookstore was a few blocks away from campus, Tom made you comfortable as he made you. Both of you weren’t sure if there were feelings, but there could be since your interaction isn’t ending with you leaving him behind a counter.
Tall street lights guided the way, and the only people passing were stumbling from the few bars lining your college town. There was little small talk between you two on the way, but Tom stopped in front of a convenience store, one he frequently went to if he wanted something to snack on during his shifts.
He walked toward the door, opening it, “You want anything?” He asked.
You nodded, walking in as he held the door open. The two of you walked into the small store with white walls and bright lighting over all the aisles. He walked around the chips and candy, heading to the big freezer with the familiar ice cream brands around the case.
The two of you gazed over it, smiling at the variety of choices like two kids. You couldn’t remember the last time you picked from the freezer– probably before you were even given an allowance. You were seeing another side of Tom, one that was a bit goofy when the stress faded from his character.
“Which one do you want?... I think I’m gonna get a cookie sandwich.” He hummed.
“No way. The strawberry shortcakes with the oats? Or the gelatos? Way better options.” You giggled.
He chuckled at your wit, “Okay, you pick for me. I pick for you. Does that sound fair?”
“Hmm…” You smirked, sticking your hand out, “Deal.”
Tom smiled as he shook yours, both your fingers trailing when you pushed open the glass case.
“Okay. Turn around…” You said, circling your finger to signal him to face back.
The curly brunette rolled his eyes with a small smile on his face, taking a slow turn around with his arms crossed. He stared at the rack of colorful packed snacks, reading the brands and flavors.
You grunted as you shoved the sliding window, then grabbed an ice cream bar of your choice. Putting it behind your back, you tell him, “Okay, your turn.”
Tom smiled to himself, seeing you try to conceal your ice cream bar under the hoodie as you headed toward the counter. He could hear your exchange with the cashier before Tom grabbed an ice cream bar out of the freezer, quickly closing it and hiding his pick behind his back.
“I hope you got me something good.” You teased, facing him and your hands behind your back holding the plastic convenience bag..
He sweetly chuckled again, “I think I did okay… I think you should be worried.”
“Ah, are you hard to please, Tom?” You continued to jeer with him.
All he could do was turn pink, chuckling out of embarrassment like an elementary boy in school. There was a glimmer in his brown eyes and you weren’t sure if it was from the bright lights in the store, but it made your heart pang at how innocent and sweet he appeared.
The two of you walked outside, sitting on the bench under the awning of the convenient store. There was a space between you as the bags crinkled when both of you reached into them. Counting down, you pulled out your ice cream bars for one another and it left you both with smiles and light laughter.
“Great minds think alike.” Tom grinned.
Both of you held the same ice cream bar, still exchanging the treats and opening them. As you ate on the bench, there was silence– but it was comforting silence. Better than surround sound music and drinks being spilled everywhere, preferring the sound of crickets and watching some stray cats walk by the alleys.
You tried to prevent any drops of ice cream getting on the hoodie he let you borrow, leaning out as you bit down and it made him chuckle.
“It’s okay. It’s an old hoodie.”
“Yeah, but, I don’t want to be a slob.” You grinned, trying to ignore how nervous you felt.
“Here, I got it.” He said, leaning over to wipe your chin with a napkin.
You glanced into his eyes again as he came close, holding your breath.
“There, now you are a presentable member of society again.” He jeered, putting the napkin in his wrapper before tossing it in the bin next to the bench.
The two of you stand up together, pulling and adjusting your clothes before continuing the venture to the bookstore. Street lights shined down on the red brick sidewalk, and a few cars passed by as they headed toward the center of town as you both walked further out from the noise of the bars and partying. 
Chirping from the crickets was peaceful and the rest of the way was lit by the full moon, making you glance at the glowing orb high above the clouds and surrounded by the stars. The shine reflected off your eyes, smiling at the breathtaking sight but unknowing to you, Tom was glaring at you.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” You asked.
“Yeah.” He trailed, not taking his eyes off you as he shyly grinned.
Tom wished he had spoken to you sooner, not knowing how to express right then and there how he had some sort of feelings for you. 
You turned back to him, “Are you okay?”
Embarrassed, he quickly nodded, “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Great.”
You grinned back at him, “Good.” you said before the two of you continued to walk to the bookstore.
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*
The soft warm glow shined on Tom’s back as his keys jingled when he unlocked the front door.
“You got it?” You ask him, watching him turn the key both ways until there was a click.
“Yeah, it’s pretty old so-” 
Tom pushed enough of his weight with his shoulder against the door, opening the seal the door created from how cold it was outside. He half-smiled before walking into the dark room and you followed close behind him.
With how many times you’d been in this store, you could bet Tom that you knew the layout better than him. You carefully stepped around the racks of books, leading to the counter before you heard a loud thump.
“Ow!” Tom hissed under his breath, instantly rubbing his knee from cutting the corner too hard.
“Are you okay?” You giggled.
“Lovely.” He groaned, rubbing away against his soon-to-be bruised skin.
He turned on the reading lamp on the counter, the warm glow against his freckled skin. You noticed how he was able to smile with his eyes, the crinkling next to them when he laughed or smiled. Although you didn’t mean to observe that, it was hard to not notice. He radiated some kind of shine in the way he carried himself– at least from what you gathered.
“So, I’m sure you have some weird stuff behind here, huh?” You teased him, squatting down to look at the shelves.
“Nothing weird, but I hoard books… without telling anyone.” He admitted in a low tone, scratching the nape of his neck.
There was a collection of books down here filling up two rows, most of them had bright tabs on the sides to indicate some annotations between pages. The books ranged from recent autobiographies and novels to ones with broken spines and the names of classic writers on the covers.
You came back up, “I think you have a problem.” You jeered, smiling at him.
“As if being interested in literature is a problem.” 
“...Touché.” You nodded, “Do you like working here?”
“Yeah. I guess.” He trailed, “It kills time, it’s quiet.”
“As opposed to going home?” You asked out of curiosity. He was sort of like a guessing game. One clue led to another, intriguing you as you went down this mystery path of a person.
“Uh, I don’t… I don’t go home anymore.” He nervously chuckled, “Haven’t been for a while.”
Heat burned his cheeks and neck, not realizing he was venting in the moment.
“Sorry to hear that.” You gently replied and sensed his discomfort as he looked down.
Tom hummed, “It’s alright. I feel less lonely here.” He shrugged, picking at his fingernails before looking into your eyes.
“Well, now you have me so… it’s a little less lonely than that.” You smiled, scrunching your nose. “...and that may have been the corniest thing I’ve said ever.”
“Yeah, just a little.” Tom nodded, and a sweet chuckle followed, “But, thanks.”
He had a bit of a twinkle in his caramel-toned eyes, and his jaw was incredibly sharp. When he looked away, he’d clench his jaw and you noticed how tense he seemed.
Tom smiled, blushing a bit before he pushed the book on top of the counter toward him. It was an old copy of Pride and Prejudice that he found on a top shelf a few weeks ago. He re-read it three times, and each time felt like a different experience. He rarely annotated, but Tom genuinely loved reading this book and wanted to write down any thought he had about it.
“A favorite?” You asked him.
“Can you tell?” He chuckled, passing it to you.
You skimmed the pages, running your fingers over the different colored post-its sticking out. His handwriting was a bit small, but you could make out what he noted and you found it incredibly cute. You smiled to yourself as you read through them, and Tom hoped there was nothing embarrassing in there– not that there would be but he was already nervous around you.
Just as you got to the last page, a picture fell out and you turned it over to its front. The frame was cardboard with the Disney logo on it and the picture was of Tom and his parents. Sporting a Mickey Mouse baseball cap, he showed a huge smile and held a melting ice cream. His mom and dad were smiling too, his mom with her arm around his small structure and Tom gulped.
“Are these your parents?” You asked.
“Yeah, I was wondering where I left that picture.” He smiled, taking it from you.
You watched him grin at it, but the smile slowly faded the longer he glanced. It didn’t seem so much reminiscing, but feeling more sad. He didn’t want to get down on himself, but he put the picture underneath the counter.
“It’s cute. My parents never took me to those kinds of places growing up, but I was never the Disney princess lover either.” You pouted. 
He chuckled, “What? You didn’t want a Disney prince? Something like Prince Eric?”
You hummed, “You do resemble a bit of Prince Phillip.”
Tom furrowed his eyebrows, crossing his arms, “The boring one?”
“Okay, okay. Maybe Prince Charming… you look like you can treat a girl to a dance,” you teased.
“The one time I slow danced was at my prom in year 13 and I remember stepping on her feet most of the night.” He told, trying to deflect your compliment
You rolled your eyes, “Oh, please. Now you’re being dramatic like a prince.” You grinned at him. 
Hesitantly, you moved your hand toward his face and pushed back the curls laying on his forehead. Your fingers carded to the back of his head, feeling his soft coarse hair and his brown eyes sparkled. It was a bold first move, but you wanted to know if this intense crush was too good to be true.
All this passes through Tom’s head is “do it”, his instincts scream. Kiss her.
You brought your hand back to his cheek, and you brushed your thumb over his bottom lip before leaning in to kiss him. Tom slowly moved his hands up your sides, pulling you closer to him as the two of you continued to makeout. He lightly pushed you against the counter, your bodies pressed together as he tasted your cherry-flavored lip balm.
With your foreheads against one anothers, Tom pulled away to take a breath, but it caused you both to let out this warm giggle. Just as you were about to kiss again, there was a sudden knock on the door along with the doorknob jiggling.
You quickly ducked under the counter while Tom stood there, trying to fix his hair as well as rub the lip balm off his mouth. He saw his uncle walk through the door, turning on the lights and Tom’s embarrassment flooded his body.
“I thought we were getting robbed. The silent alarm went off a few minutes ago.” His uncle told him, pretty light-hearted once he saw it was Tom.
“No, it was just me.” Tom gulped, glancing down at you hiding under the counter.
“Good, good. Why are you here so late? Your mom told me you had some party tonight.” His uncle trailed, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“It was getting… loud and I just left to get some air. Work on some papers.”
You could audibly hear his uncle sigh, then say, “Is this because of… the divorce?”
Tom sealed his lips, it wasn’t what he wanted to talk about right now– especially since you were unknowingly in the room. Although divorce was a common thing, it was different going through when you’re already grown up and that was Tom’s struggle. He knew his parents had underlying issues, but he didn’t think he would get sat down and told his parents would separate their lives then and now.
“I know, it’s hard. But, you have to talk to someone about this. We don’t want you… hiding away, missing out on opportu-”
“I’m not, I just… wanted to be alone.” Tom shrugged, trying to grin and bear it.
His uncle didn’t want to get more into it since Tom was still going through it, but he nodded.
“Alright, make sure to lock up when you’re done. See you tomorrow, kid.” He sweetly said before he walked back out, the bell above the door ringing. Tom was only left with a bright red face, and a sudden racing in his heart. It’s like he realized how lonely he had made himself to be rather than people avoiding him altogether. 
Coming from under the counter, you dusted off your shirt at first. You didn’t want to immediately face Tom, sensing there was a bit of awkwardness created. He rubbed the back of his curls, but you finally broke the silence.
“Sorry, my lip balm kind of… got all over your lips.” You joked, taking your thumb to wipe the smudge of gloss from his chin.
Tom smiled, but nodded, “Well, I’m more sorry you had to hear that, but it’s no big deal. I don’t know why my family has so many issues.”
“I think they’re just genuinely worried about you. I mean, you don’t seem much of the talking type.” You confessed.
“It’s ironic. They don’t ask about any of this stuff until I just don’t say anything at all. Maybe, I just want to be left alone and be able to think about how the only two stable people in my life just choose to not be with each other anymore.” He trailed, trying to humor himself.
You could tell he’d been hurt by people before, but this was something he was expecting. It was still shocking, but he chose to close everyone off. 
Tom thought if he didn’t have to talk about these feelings, they’d go away. But, by telling you, basically a complete stranger, how he felt— his hurt was more on the surface than he thought.
“Well, you don't deserve to feel this way.” You told him with honesty, rubbing his tense shoulder, “If I can promise you one thing.”
There was a bit of comfort in that. At least someone acknowledging his feelings over their own.
“Thanks.” He grinned.
“Please, you’re one cigarette away from being Holden Caulfield. I felt like I needed to step in now… because he was the worst.”
Tom rolled his eyes, “He witnessed worse.”
“Well, luckily he’s a fictional character. Meanwhile, you need to worry about how you feel, and not be so… scared of thinking the world is going to get you.” You trailed, running your hand from your shoulder to the back of his curls.  
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*
A week and a half breezed by and all you did was hang out with Tom at the bookstore, the library, or his room at his fraternity house. Occasionally, Harrison would pop in, trying to tease him, but also try to get to know you since Tom cared about you. It was actually a bit cute the way Harrison would pinch at Tom’s cheek, trying to make him flustered in your presence. You could tell he cared about him too.
Once your finals were finished and Tom was paid for his essays, it was nice to hang around the bookstore without the added tension. You could hang out for hours and read books in the cozy corner of the store, near the cat by the window and the sunlight would kiss against your skin. Sometimes Tom would get lost in the mesmerizing scene–like being with you meant more than fate. Something like he read in novels.
The sun was starting to set when the two of you entered the pizzeria where Harrison worked. Both of you nodded your heads over at him behind the counter before finding a booth by the window.
“Look at him in his cute apron.” You teased, sliding into the booth.
“Trust me, he thinks it’s a magnet for girls. I wouldn’t let him know.” Tom chuckled.
Although you and Tom were having a fun time, you hadn’t talked about the kiss you shared. Not that it wasn’t on both your minds, but felt better left unsaid than having to figure out what’s going on between you two and ruining this blossoming friendship. It already took long enough to talk to each other outside the bookstore, neither of you wanted to taint that.
“So, do you have any plans for the weekend?” You asked him.
Before Tom could answer, Harrison slid next to him already sporting a cheeky smile and wiped some flour on Tom’s cheek from his apron.
“What are you two gossiping about, huh? Or just miss me?” Harrison winked at you, but Tom wiped the flour off his face.
“We just wanted to grab a slice.” Tom cheeks tinted pink, feeling as if he’s being embarrassed by his dad.
“Calm down, Tommy.” Harrison smiled, “You’re too easy to mess with sometimes.” Harrison jokingly retorted.
You giggled, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna go and order.” You tell them before getting up, heading to the counter.
The two boys watched you walk up to the counter, beaming at the cashier as you made small talk before ordering. Tom’s look glistened, sparkling when he kept his eyes on you and Harrison snickered at his doe-like gaze.
“So, you guys made out and nothing happened?” 
It was no lie that Tom regretted venting Harrison–moments like this reminded him of that.
Tom gulped, “I think what’s going on is fine.” He lied.
“Fine?” Harrison asked, “You’ve been crushing on her for weeks and she obviously likes you too.”
“You can’t know that.” Tom trailed.
“She’s been to the bookstore everyday to hang out with you, going out to dinner, spending time at the house and you know no girl likes hanging out there, look at the bathroom for God’s sake, it’s disgusting. No woman willingly stays there unless she’s basically in love.” Harrison explained.
Tom nodded in disagreement, “I don’t think she… likes me. I’m not gonna mess up just talking to her.”
“You’re not. You just need to figure out how to make the right move.” Harrison stated before quickly asking, “Hey, you got invited to Steven’s wedding, right?”
Steven was one of the alumni of the frat house and a close friend of both the guys. Tom was a “baby-faced” freshman when they met and was still teased to this day for looking so young.
“Yeah. I did, but I don’t know if I’m going. It’s kind of far.” Tom trailed, scratching his nail against the table.
Harrison smiled, “No, you should go and Y/N is your plus one. Bam, matchmaking.”
Tom rolled his eyes, “Yeah because a two hour car trip would really make me less awkward and weird.”
“You need to be a little hopeful. It’s not like your strangers anymore. You guys hang out at the store for hours with no problems. C’mon, she’d love it. It’s a nice countryside wedding and lots of our friends will be there so it’s not like you’ll be the odd one out. Introduce her, and maybe find some romantic spot to makeout, huh?”
Tom thought Harrison was a bit in over his head, but trying to make him see the other side of his pessimistic thoughts. Tom liked you, you like Tom. The problem was finding the moment to say that outlook to each other.
He twisted his lips, “How do I even ask that?”
“You’ll know how to say it when the moment comes… which seems like right now.” Harrison smirked.
As you walked back with a table timer in your hand, already wanting it to vibrate with your order since you were starving. You slipped into the booth, noticing both boys getting quiet which made you giggle.
“Am I interrupting something private?” You teased them.
“Actually, we were talking about a wedding we’re going to next weekend.” Harrison immediately said.
Tom wanted to sink into his seat.
“A wedding? Aw, that’s nice.” You smiled, “Who’s wedding?”
“Our friend, Steven, is getting married and I think Tom wanted to ask you something…” Harrison insisted.
Tom’s eyes widened, but Harrison quickly said, “I gotta get back to work. I’ll bring your food right out.” He flashed a cheery smile, something Tom wanted to slap off his face if he could, before leaving you two to talk– more like Tom improving what to say.
The feeling could be compared to dropping a baby into the deep end, trying to teach them how to swim and all Tom could do is internally panic.
You thanked Harrison before facing toward Tom’s pink-tinted face, and you tilted your head with a cheeky smile, “Something to ask me?”
He sighed but nervously smiled, “Not to impose, but… I was wondering if you wanted to… go with me? To the wedding. I know it’s last minute and all, but I would really like you to go… with me.”
You giggled at his shy question, “I’d love to go with you, Tom. It sounds like fun.”
There was a relief in the air for Tom, not thinking you would accept so quickly and with an assuring smile.
“ Really?” He still asked.
“I don’t know why you assume the worst of me. Maybe being your wedding date will change that. Weddings always give people a bit of optimism” You chuckled, tilting your head at his shy expression.
A light chuckle left his lips, “Remember, optimism isn’t my thing. Then our personality equal us out.” He joked.
“Exactly why I’m the perfect wedding date. I make the conversations and you hold your drink and nod. It’ll be adorable.” You grinned back as heat radiated from your cheeks.
Tom can’t hold back his smile once you look out the window. His eyes traced your jaw then up your perfect cheekbones, trailing to your eyes as the streetlight reflected off the irises. He feels that moment again where he could confess everything he felt for you right there in front of everyone at the pizza place, a small amount of courage whispering in his ear to do it. Just to say it out loud.
“Here’s your complimentary garlic bread, love birds.” Harrison interrupted as he placed the plastic basket on the center of the table.
“Thank you for your incredible service.” You jeered at the cheeky blonde.
Tom laughed off his sudden thought, nodding at Harrison before you two started talking about the wedding plan since you were going now. The rest of the night was hanging out and eating together, talking about the future with classic rock playing over the old speakers in the restaurant.
There was a coziness that radiated the more you were vulnerable, even showing through being more relaxed while sitting in the booths. You felt like you could tell him anything and for once not have to think twice about what you revealed or said. No one could compare to Tom and you wish you could tell him that. 
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚* 
A breeze brushed past your face as you waited outside your apartment with your bags. You were sat on the front step, waiting for the two boys to pick you up on this nice summer day. Tempted to text them for a time of arrival, the door opened behind you and you glanced up to see Lillian.
“I went through the back only for your roommates to tell me you’re already waiting outside. I feel like I haven’t seen you in weeks.” She jeered as she sat next to you on the stoop.
You sighed, “Sorry, I’ve been hanging out with Tom.”
She chuckled, “Of course. I’m not surprised. It’s been this way ever since you ditched me at the party-”
“I didn’t mean to di-”
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Lillian giggled, putting her hand on top of your knee, “I know you really like him.”
“I don’t… like him that much.”
“I can’t remember the last time someone could actually get your attention away from books or studying so, I like to call it fate that you met at the party.” She teased and scrunched her nose.
You rolled her eyes before turning your head, seeing the car come down the street and you quickly stand up. As you brush off the back of your pants, Lillian picks up one of your bags and the two of you slowly walk up to the curb. Once the car stopped, the two boys got out and Tom immediately greets you with his pearly smile.
“Hey Tom, Harrison,  this is my friend, Lillian.” You introduced them, gesturing your head.
“Hey there.” She greeted both of them, moving her hair behind her shoulders, “Don’t let anything happen to her.”
“We promise.” Tom grinned, lowly chuckling before he took your bag she gave to him.
After giving a goodbye hug Lillian, you slid into the backseat of the car. You sat on the left side so you could sit diagonally from Tom’s view, already creating terribly awkward scenarios in your head for what this two hour drive may be like.
What if we don’t talk at all? What if I’m in over my head? What if this isn’t real or what I thought? What if this whole trip was going to be a big mistake?
Tom was pondering the same, but he tried his best not to doubt his own feelings. Especially after the, what Harrison would call, pep talk he gave him on the way to your building. Nevertheless, it made Tom especially when he already knew he was being incredibly shy, but knew Harrison meant well.
“Alright so, I found out Cami Bernet was coming and I wanted to stay in her room so… It’s just the two of you sharing the hotel room, yeah?” Harrison announced, making you and Tom share a sudden glance.
“I don’t mind…” You trailed, your eyes shifting.
“Yeah, no problem.” Tom quickly added.
Harrison smiled at your reactions, “Don’t worry, there’s one bed and a pull out couch.”
Tom’s face beamed a light pink, making him turn his head toward the window. But, you did the same by turning your face to see the street passing by as you were leaving town. Harrison couldn’t help but smirk to himself at how antagonizing he could be yet trying to be a perfect matchmaker.
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚* 
Toward the end of the drive, you laid down in the backseat wearing the cozy hoodie Tom stuffed in his backpack. With your head sunk into your pillow and your legs curled up, you looked as comfortable as someone could on a road trip. A few times, Tom glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were okay when there was a sudden bump in the road, but you also looked cute nuzzling your face into your pillow. 
Once you arrived to the hotel, you stirred in your daze as Harrison pulled in front of the huge front doors. Two valets walked up to the car, one on Harrison’s side then another by the trunk. As Tom got out, he quickly opened the back door and lightly shook your leg.
“Hey Y/N, we’re here.” He softly spoke, giving his hand for you to hold.
You blinked a few times, but lazily smiled as you wrapped your hand around his and pulled yourself up from the comfortable position you lied in. You pulled down your hoodie when you got out of the car, grabbing your bag on the floor while watching the valets take the rest of them to put on a luggage cart.
“Jesus, Tom. What’s in this?” Harrison asked as he gave Tom his duffle.
“A few books, some shoes…” He trailed.
“You brought books to a vacation wedding? How adorable.” Harrison teased him as he gave the valet his keys before entering the hotel doors.
You giggled, “What literary fix did you bring on a two day trip? Romantic novels, I bet.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s just my genre.” Tom chuckled, his eyebrows raised at his comment.
The entrance to the hotel was grand, to say the least. There were two large, revolving glass doors trimmed with gold that entered into the main lobby with renaissance art against the woven wallpaper. Both your heads tilted up toward the ceiling, admiring the pale murals along the lavish lights.
You could only hope to get married at such a beautiful place in the future, and you were pretty optimistic that you would find someone for that to happen.
Harrison faced the two of you walking toward him, noticing the way you glared at Tom and your eyes looking so bright. Although he was still looking at the scenery, your eyes were just on him. It made Harrison smirk, but turn back to the hotel front desk manager.
“Thanks.” Harrison grinned, taking the key card. He turned to Tom, “Here’s your key. Don’t be too loud and rowdy. This is a classy place.” He teased, seeing Tom already turn a tomato red.
You snickered, “Thanks, Harrison. You guys planned doing anything?”
Harrison nodded, “I’m meeting Cami by the pool then we’re gonna go back to her room before the rehearsal dinner. What about you guys?”
“I actually saw on their website that there’s a historical library on the second floor, a bunch of old collections.” You turned, “Tom? Interested?” You asked him with a beaming smile across your face.
Tom glanced at Harrison, who also was smiling, then back at you, “Yeah, of course. Sounds fun.”
“Wow, you guys really know how to get out of your comfort zone. Have fun with that.” Harrison, obviously sarcastic, stated before leaving to meet Cami.
Quickly, the two of you took the large, carpeted staircase on the second floor and followed the signs that directed toward the library. It wasn’t as fancy as the hotel, but it did look pretty old from the traditional style of the room.
You looked up at the high ceiling before heading toward the back shelves of familiar British authors. Although most of these titles triggered him back to all the essays he was paid to do his last year of college, he glared back at you completely mesmerized by the complete collections.
“Look, Williams works. All his romanticism in one set. I bet that’s like a dream to you.” You smiled to yourself, flashing back to your late night ramblings over the phone about literature. You never thought you’d meet anyone with a bigger opinion on themes of romance– and Tom was pretty convincing in his arguments. Truly adorable when you he went on his tangents, just wanting to listen to his soft voice all day.
Tom traced his fingers along the spines of the books before selecting one to read. He breezed through the pages, noticing the pictures within the text before he glanced up and didn’t see you straight on.
“Y/N?” 
“Over here!” Your voice echoed.
He followed the sound of your tone then seeing you sitting in a comfortable nook that overlooked the beach and pool area.
“I found the best seat in the house.” You jeered, pulling your legs to your chest with your back against the wall of the nook.
Tom joined you, sitting down on the cushion within the space and facing you from the opposite side. The natural sunlight came through the window beautifully, so much so that he was already in the reading mood.
You grin, “I bet a bunch of writers came here and just wrote their hearts out.” You said as you looked out to the calm ocean.
“Or where a lot of people hid from their brides.” Tom jeered.
You rolled your eyes, then crawled over to his side. You instantly curled up next to him, your head against his chest as the two of you glanced at the page of the book together. Tom didn’t expect you to get so close, but he wasn’t complaining. 
Within that time, you learned that Tom is the fast reader between you two. Dorky enough, you were a bit envious of that. Everytime he tried to turn the page to tease you, you’d quickly put your hand up to stop him and plea that he stop moving his eyes so fast. 
About thirty pages in, Tom hadn’t realized he was flying through the pages with how in depth he was of the text. He turned his head and saw you fell asleep, smiling down at you and not knowing the short car ride really tired you out. He didn’t move though, he wouldn’t dare to with how peaceful you appeared. He chuckled at your light breaths, napping against him with your hand at the center of his chest.
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚* 
A few minutes later, you woke up in Tom’s arms and almost sprung up from the embarrassment.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize I passed out.” You chuckled, lifting out of his arms.
“No, it’s okay. I was just reading away.” He shrugged, showing that boyish smile that made your heart race.
The two of you came to the conclusion that you were starved, so you thought of the only bougie thing to do on a wedding weekend– ordering room service. Giddy and smiling, both of you went one of the three huge elevators in the hall and headed to the eleventh floor.
When you entered your room, your luggage was lined up by the door. Neither of you wanted to gawk, but it was probably one of the more fancier places either of you stayed in your lives.
There was a deep tub in the bathroom and robes hanging on the door as well as a king-size bed with an incredible ocean view and balcony. The sofa was in the corner with the mini-fridge next to it, making you curious as to what else they could offer.
“Do you think if we take from here Harrison will kill us?” You asked Tom, opening the small fridge door.
“Kill, no. Strangle? Maybe.”
You giggled, but saw a few sodas and healthy snacks. As you checked out the selection, Tom walked back to the bathroom and turned on the light. His eyes widened to a bottle of champagne on ice set on the counter. There was a tiny card next to the bucket that said: Happy Wedding Everyone! From us, to you! XO The Bride and Groom.
Holy shit, how much was Steven paying for this. Tom thought.
“Wow, that’s for us?” You asked peaking from the doorway.
“I say that we toast. It only seems right.” Tom trailed as he checked the label on the bottle.
Maybe this wouldn’t be as awkward of a night as the two of you dread. Thank God.
Tom already popped the cork, making you hurry back with a bit of a pout on your lip.
“Well, couldn’t find wine glasses but I did find hotel coffee mugs. Much more sophisticated.”
After pouring both cups at least half, the two of you sat on the balcony to admire the scene. The view from your hotel room was beautiful, as if it was a green screen. The sun perfectly setting below the shorelines and the winds blowing the tall grass in the dunes. It reminded you both that it was the summertime; a period of time to relax and destress from the fast pace environment of school and warm up from the previous harsh winters.
There was a freedom in the air, almost confusing from how much time you suddenly had.
“This is definitely the kind of view I want for my wedding.” You trailed, a bit mesmerized.
Tom nodded, “Really?”
“Yeah. A beach wedding is romantic… well, until it gets windy, but I know I’ll get my planning down.” You said before turning to him, “Where do you want to get married?”
His heart skipped a beat, “I’ve never thought about it.”
You scoffed, “Never?”
He nodded, “Never ever. My dad sort of said that it’s what the woman does and the man just nods and agrees.”
“God, your dad sounds like a joy… No offense.” You quickly corrected yourself.
“He’s always been like that. Then I wonder why they didn’t work out.” Tom tried to humor himself.
Your lips went to the side before saying, “Hey, that’s their issues. It doesn’t fall on you or anything. I personally think they did do a great job at raising their son. He turned out pretty okay.” You grinned, holding your cup with both hands.
Tom smirked, “I can agree with okay.”
When he looked at you, it’s like he had this crush on you for years. He thought for a moment that maybe if he believed in his gut feeling, there could be a chance with you. He couldn’t keep backing out each time he wanted to ask you that simple question.
You wondered the same just a few feet away from him. You didn’t want to think so highly of yourself in his perspective, but the thought of getting over this crush would make you feel nothing but regret.
Something was there. The word for it was unknown at the moment. Ultimately, it was now or never. 
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚* 
In the early hours of the day, you and Tom found yourselves in a rush to get ready. As you tried to do your makeup in the bathroom, Tom was in the main room looking in the long mirror while trying to perfect his black tie. He wore a nice navy blue suit with a white button up, feeling like he was playing dress up since he never went to many fancy occasions other than important fraternity meetings.
“How are you doing in there?” You asked him, contorting your face to make sure there were no creases in your concealer.
“I remember why I wear clip-on ties.” He mumbled as he pulled at the end of the tie, but the knot was too crooked by his collar.
As you put down the brush, you grabbed one of your earrings and tried putting it on as you walked out to see where he was at. You saw how he struggled to figure out what shirt to where, seeing the two other unbuttoned ones on the pull-out coach he slept on last night.
“Here, let me try.” You trailed, standing right in front of him so you could align the tie. Tom glanced at you, your eyes focused on the centering as your fingers moved the knot around to get it just right. He gulped with how close you were to him– the last time being when you two had a short make-out before being interrupted. If he kept thinking about it, the more red his cheeks would get and he tried to let his mind go somewhere else.
“There, that’s better. A wedding date has never looked so handsome.” You teased, patting down his tie on top of his shirt. He nervously chuckled, both of you sharing a shy smile before you touched his gelled curls to fix the stray strand of hair by his forehead.
“Now, how do I look?” You asked him, dramatically posing with your hands on your hips. You wore a knee high dress, a pale blue that complimented Tom’s shade of blue where it still matched.
“You look beautiful.” Tom complimented in complete awe.
Heat rose your face, genuinely flustered, “Good, we should probably head down there… before Harrison can think of any comments to throw our way.”
“You’re right.” Tom groaned.
Well, Harrison’s insinuated comments were well in his head anyways so, you two got a few of those before the three of you headed to the wedding venue outside by the beach. Harrison briefly mentioned Cami, not getting into too many details which was for the best (at the moment). 
The three of you took your white fold-out seats toward the middle of the left side, Tom and Harrison pointing out Steven’s family in the front row. You picked up the pamphlet that sat on the chair, the cover showing a professionally taken picture of the couple.
Smiling, you read through the brief summary of the ceremony and Tom kept giving you short glares. He really couldn’t believe how beautiful you looked, especially in the warm sun and beautiful setting around you all.
Once everyone gathered, the wedding started and eventually everyone stood up for the bride’s entrance. You saw her already tearing up, almost making you want to shed tears as well, but you held it together. It was nice to see this woman so happy and you didn’t even know her– you just knew she was happy.
All went well and thorough, everyone awing at the ring bearer and flower girls, but then the vows came and there was nothing but silence.
“I promise to love you today as much as I did yesterday, as much as I will tomorrow and years to come.”
Both you and Tom got shivers up your spine, relating those words. You glance down at Tom’s hand resting between his legs, watching him pick at his nails, and you carefully placed your hand on top of his wrist. He didn’t even realize he was doing it, a shy smile to show his bit of embarrassment. You quietly giggled, squeezing his hand before bringing your hand back to your own lap.
Tom let out a shaky sigh, gulping and thinking his tie was now strangling his throat.
The ceremony would end in a beautiful kiss before the bride and groom left back down the aisle. Everyone slowly moved over to the reception which was only a few feet away under a huge white tent. The cake was set as well as the food and free bar, everyone, including Tom, able to loosen their ties and even take off their shoes to dance.
“That was really nice. Anything like you want at your non-thought of wedding?” You jeered at Tom, walking next to him.
He nodded, “I took a few mental notes. But, my eyes may have been concentrating too much at what color pink the bridesmaid dresses were.” 
“I was thinking between a light flamingo or cotton candy.” You scrunched your nose.
With booze and food being passed around, all the wedding guests were having a great time. With the sun set and the fairy lights beaming around the tent, everyone was having fun and embracing the bride and groom’s special day. Their first dance together was sweet, applauded and wooed before the real party started. 
Hooked on A Feeling by Blue Swede began mid-verse, making everyone laugh at how random the song was. People linked together, swinging back and forth with happiness painted on every face.
“Do you want to dance?” You asked Tom, getting up from your seat and giving your hand out to him.
He nodded, “I’m good right now.”
“C’mon. One dance.” You pouted, “Don’t leave me hanging here.”
“Maybe later.” Tom chuckled, turning a bit pink. 
That was one thing he forgot before the trip– how to dance with rhythm in his step.
“I’ll warm you up and maybe makeTom realize he’s missing out.” Harrison jeered, stepping in to take your hand.
Tom dazed in pure awe of you sway back and forth with Harrison. He wasn’t envious, confident knowing that his bestfriend wouldn’t do that to him, but just being able to see you gracefully dance was like seeing an floating angel glide on clouds. Harrison spun you a few times, throwing your hand back in laughter just from the positive atmosphere.
A minute or two passed in the song, and Tom leaned his arm on the back of his seat, grinning at your smile, but you suddenly made eye contact across the room.
He blushed as you and Harrison walked back over, hoping he wouldn’t be making a fool of himself.
“It’s your turn.” You smiled, taking his hand and Tom got out of his seat. Harrison purposely cheered for both of you loudly, making a scene to tease Tom, but he was happy that Tom was happy. Brown Eyed Girl started playing when you both planted your feet and instantly grooved to the fast beat. Sure, the songs were kind-of cheesy, but it’s expected at a wedding and all you could do was embrace it.
You two merged into the dancing crowd, everyone happy and spinning around as well as kids jumping around between their parents. You wrapped your arms around Tom’s neck, both of you moving and swaying and people passed by singing some of the lyrics. Even Steven and his bride cut in, making everyone cheer for them and laugh.
Once the night calmed down, with kids and older folks heading to their rooms, slower songs played for the guests still enjoying their time. As nice of a night it was, you looked out at the beach from afar and Tom was nursing his drink next to you.
“Do you want to… go see if we can sit on the beach?” You hesitantly asked, wondering if it was cheesy.
Tom nodded, “Sure. Yeah.” He half-smiled.
You both walked together from the wedding tent, heading down the unlit path. Tom grabbed one of the folded blankets displayed in a bin for people who wanted to sit on the beach any time of the day. 
As you two got closer to the beach, Tom couldn’t help but notice everything going on. The moonlight, the leftover pink petals and rice in the sand, even dolphins fins going by within the waves.
No one could make this up as the most perfect moment to ask someone out. Tom cracked his knuckles, the two of you listening to the crash of the waves against the shore, before he stuttered out his words.
“D-Did you have fun tonight?” He shyly asked, not looking at you.
“Yeah, I had a lot of fun. I’m glad you invited me…” You trailed.
Okay, this was the moment. Tom thought, This is when you tell her.
He gulped, but you spoke before him.
“Are you okay?” You furrowed your brow.
Tom cleared his throat, “Yeah! Yeah, I just… I want to tell you something.”
You giggled at his sudden shyness, getting closer to him, “What’s going on?” You grinned, but a bit concerned. You couldn’t gauge if his tone was happy or upset.
He didn’t want to take a completely dramatic pause, but there wasn’t enough air in the world for his lungs to feel like they were working. His tongue felt dry, his skin felt cold, holding his breath until it just all slipped out.
“I really like you and… I haven’t been able to figure out how to say it. I read these books about love and what it is but, I couldn’t think of anything to say for shit.” Tom chuckled, his neck and cheeks heated, “But, now I know that I want to be with you and I’ve known that ever since you came into my life wearing some caution tape and gave you my hoodie… I think that you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”
He couldn’t believe he admitted it out loud, feeling a bit faint from letting it all out at once.
You chuckled in relief, “I like you too, Tom. We’ve spent so much time together and you’re so fun to be with that I’ve been tripping over myself wondering if you felt the same.” You thought your heart was in your throat and butterflies bursted in your stomach, “I didn’t want to be that weird girl who just thinks she’s in love with the cute guy at the bookstore she spends too much time at during the day.” 
Tom gulped, surprised by your response, but he had to catch his breath again when your eyes met again. The moment was still a bit awkward, not knowing what to say next, but you bite your bottom lip, “I think this is the part in books and movies where we kiss and ride into the sunrise on your beautiful steed.” 
He cracked a smile and leaned in, his hand against your cheek before your lips met. You would be lying if you said you weren’t dying for this kiss to happen. Like that end at any sappy romance novel you read for pleasure, they always ended in these kind of passionate and satisfying kisses. Although you didn’t think those type of scenarios were real, this was enough to make you start believing.
*✭˚·゚✧*·゚*✭˚·゚✧*·゚* 
Your eyes fluttered open, surprised by the sound of the waves still crashing onto the shore and salty but gentle breeze brushing across your face. You two must have fallen asleep from how tired the night made you between the dancing and drinking, but you weren’t complaining instead smiling at the coincidence.
A few moments later, Tom would stir from his sleep. He didn’t believe how loud and close the waves were, but his eyes fluttered open to you sat up and looking out at dawn. The wedding arch still stood between the soft sand of the beach, both of you watching the glowing sunset begin its descent under the horizon. 
Another cold breeze set the relaxed mood even more as you two sat there admiring the start of the morning. Tom stretched his back, both of you comfortable with the silence between you two. Feeling refreshed and happy, you turned your head to Tom and the orange light made his brown eyes shine.
“Yesterday happened, right? It wasn’t just an amazing dream I had.” Tom joked, turning to smile at you.
“Truly real. Nothing fictional about it.” You smiled.
Tom placed his hand on your cheek, cupping your skin softly before placing his lips on yours. Your smile faded as your noses brushed together, your heart fluttering as you paced your sweet kiss. It was your happy ending that no book could write.
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jobean12-blog · 1 year
Text
Much Ado About Books
Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader (Bookshop AU)
Word Count: 3,811
Summary: You get caught in the rain and seek shelter in a cozy bookshop nearby, finding it’s the best place for books, sweets and romance. 
Author’s Note: I’ve been sitting on his AU with Eddie for a bit and I’m so glad I finally got it out! He’s so soft and sweet and yummy and there is nothing I love more than books and boys haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Bat divider by the lovely @wannabehamlet and book divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you loves both bunches! 🥰
Warnings: Books, sweets, fluffs and fun 
GIF NOT MINE: Credit goes to @lesbianrobin thanks a bunch sweets 🥰
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Eddie Munson Masterlist
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The gray skies and light wind were no indication of the sudden deluge of rain that fell from above and promptly started to soak through your clothes. Your eyes search for the closest available shelter, seeing a small awning below a large sign that read “Books.”
You dash for the shop, your feet already squishing in your shoes and your head down to avoid the cold drops of rain. That’s why you were completely taken by surprise when you ran into something hard and then in almost the same second you’re wrapped in strong arms.
When you lift your head you’re met with the softest brown eyes, the color of perfected chocolate and it steals your breath.
Once you’re able to drag your gaze away from his you start to apologize, realizing your fingers are fisted into his wet flannel and you’re still in his arms, and despite the cold, you feel your body flush with the heat of awareness and you step out of his hold.
“I’m sorry,” you say, grinning apologetically. “I was not expecting that rain.”
He gives you a nod, his long and curly hair sticking to the sides of his face as the corner of his mouth pulls up into a sideways smile. Without saying a word he reaches for the door to the shop and pushes it open.
“You can come in if you want,” he says, holding the door.
“Are you sure?” you ask, looking back out at the rain.
“Of course,” he answers. “We’re open. And even if we weren’t I wouldn’t leave you out in the rain.”
“Ok. Thanks.” You walk in, brushing past him and reigniting the momentary flare of heat from his body, the action causing a shiver to run down your spine.
“Can I get you something? Tea, coffee, hot chocolate?”
He asks this as walks toward the counter of the bookshop, his heavy boots squeaking along the wooden floors. When he rounds the counter he grabs two cups and a towel. He sets the cups down before bringing you the towel.
“Thank you,” you whisper, pressing it to your face before drying your clothes as best as you can. “And tea would be great.”
“You got it,” he says before heading for the coffee machine. “I’ve got green, chamomile, earl gray, and English breakfast.”
“Green please,” you start. “Can I help with anything?”
He shakes his head no and turns on the coffee maker then grabs himself a towel and starts to wring out his hair. His curls are extra wild once he’s done and your fingers itch to run through them.
When the tea is ready he strides over and motions to one of the small tables at the front of the shop by the large window. You slide into the seat across from him and take the mug between your fingers, relishing in it’s warmth.
Your eyes settle on him as he sips the tea and relaxes into the chair. Your gaze drops to his hands and the rings that adorn his long fingers, each one sparking your interest.
Deciding to ask him more about them later you tell him, “I’ve never been here before.”
He smiles over his mug. “Welcome to Bard and Books. I’m Eddie.”
You return his smile and introduce yourself before you look around the shop. The dark walnut floor is worn by foot traffic but it still retains it’s natural beauty and several brass sconces line the walls, breaking up the darkness, while tall bookshelves fill the space beyond the counter.
The front area has several small tables with chairs as well as a love seat and a large couch. Wall-mounted Tiffany lamps hang above the area and give it a cozy, almost romantic vibe. The smell of old leather, dust worn pages and something sweet lingers in the air.
“Do I smell cookies?” you ask, your eyes sparkling.
He grins and gets up, jogging to a small display case by the cash register and pulling something from it. He promptly returns with two large chocolate chip cookies.
“My friend Steve makes them. He owns the bakery down the street. They’re amazing. We also have brownies and muffins, but the cookies are my favorite.”
You break off a piece of yours and pop it into your mouth, savoring the sweet bite with a low moan, your eyes closing.
“Wow, you were right!” you say excitedly as you open your eyes.  
You find him staring at your mouth and there is a slight pink tinge to his cheeks. He clears his throat when his eyes lift to yours and stuffs a chunk of cookie between his lips.
You dip your head and fiddle with your hands in your lap, only lifting your eyes to check out the rows and stacks of books.
“Mind if I have a look around?” you ask.
“Go right ahead,” he motions, finishing off his cookie.
You wander up and down the aisles, your fingers reverently brushing along the spines of the books and kicking up that familiar and comforting smell of leather and print. You stop at the “Fantasy” section and browse the titles, reaching up on your toes to grab one book in particular.
You can’t quite reach it and you settle back on your feet and search for a stool, spotting one at the end of the aisle. Once you drag it over you step up and close your fingers around the binding. Without getting down you start to thumb through the pages, smiling and reminiscing over one of your favorite stories.
“Do you always read while standing on stools?”
The sound of his voice startles you, having been so caught up in the story, and you teeter on the edge of the stool. With a yelp you start to careen backward, gravity taking over and dragging you toward the floor.
But before you hit it, strong arms once again wrap around your waist and you land hard against Eddie’s chest, his hair brushing your cheeks as you let out a shaky exhale and cling to him for dear life. The smell of his shampoo surrounds you, mixing with the rain and something distinctly him, warm and spicy.
“Oh my god,” you mumble, hiding your face. “I’m so sor…”
“You shouldn’t be apologizing,” he starts, giving your waist a soft squeeze. “I kinda snuck up on you.”
You let out a small huff of laughter and bring your eyes up, noting the slight gleam of amusement dancing in his.
“So then it’s your fault,” you state playfully.
“Yep, sorry about that sweetheart, but I wish you could have seen yourself up there.”
“Oh so now you’re making fun of me?” you ask, feigning shock. “We just met!”
You both try to glare at each other but it quickly fades and turns into big smiles and laughter.
When you press your hand over your mouth to contain your giggle you tilt your head forward slightly and bump Eddie’s in the process.
His resounding “ow!” makes you laugh harder and you curl into him, trying to regain some composure. It isn’t until you let out a steadying exhale that you realize your face is buried in his hair and you’re still clutching him.
“Oh,” you start, slowly pulling away. “I didn’t mean to…”
“No,” he says softly, “it’s ok, really.”
His fingers grasp your chin, forcing your head up and your gaze to his. He dips his head and you hold your breath, dropping your eyes to his lips.
The distant ring of a phone sounds but you barely notice it, your hands tightening in his shirt.
“I have to get that,” he breathes out, disappointment in his eyes.
“What?” you ask, blinking.
“The phone…I should get it.”
“OH! Of course,” you say quickly and step out of his hold.
You watch him walk away and disappear around the corner, your body deflating and sagging against the shelf.
You clutch the book to your chest and continue looking around, noting all the small details about the shop. Each section is labeled by genre and the signs are clearly hand drawn in a bold but elegant print that elicits a magical feel.
Small and fantastical designs frame each title and just as you’re wondering who designed them, Eddie slides up behind you.
“You like them?” he asks.
“I love them,” you tell him, “did you create them?”
“I did!” he smiles. “I like to make things.”
“You’re very good at it,” you state.
When you’re back by the counter you place your book down.
“Oh man, I love this series!!!” he says excitedly.
“Me too! My first copy is so worn at this point I’m getting myself a new one,” you explain as you pull out your wallet.
“You know the third book,” he starts to tell you, his eyes bright, “’The Woman Who Rides Like A Man’ comes out at the end of this month!”
Your squeal of excitement precedes your enthusiastic, “I KNOW!” and you find yourself smiling at him for the hundredth time in the last hour.
“It’s on me,” he says, shooing away your money.
“No Eddie, I want to support the store!”
“You will when you come in and get the new book from me,” he says with a wink.
“Are you sure?” you ask, frowning for the first time since you’ve been in his presence.
“Definitely. And take a cookie.”
He grabs another of Steve’s cookies and wraps it up, placing both the book and cookie in a small bag. He holds it up but doesn’t place it in your outstretched hand.
“What?” you question, narrowing your eyes with a smirk.
“Promise you’ll come back soon?”
“I have to get the third book,” you say.
“Yea but before that. Come back before that.”
His expression softens and you watch his eyes wander over your face, his gaze stopping on your mouth and lingering before he meets your stare again.
“I promise,” you assure him. “The cookies are way too good!”
He huffs out a laugh and hands you the bag, jogging around the counter to walk you out.
“At least the rain stopped,” he muses as he looks out the large front window.
He shoves his hands in the back pockets of his jeans and shifts on his feet.
“Bye Eddie,” you whisper. “And thanks. For everything.”
“Anytime,” he says before he drops his head and hides in his hair.
You take a step closer to him and his head whips up, big brown eyes wide. With a quickness mostly born out of nervousness you lean in and place a soft kiss on his cheek.
You hear his breath catch and when you move back his eyelashes are fluttering closed.
“I’ll see you soon,” you say and reach for the door.
He shakes himself free of the moment and grabs the handle before you do, holding it open so you can step out.
“Can’t wait,” he says with a shy smile.
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“So she liked my cookies huh?” Steve asks with a smug expression.
Eddie rolls his eyes. “She loved ‘em.”
“Of course she did,” Steve answers, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans against the bakery counter. “When is she coming in to see me?”
“I’ll invite her soon,” Eddie says as he grabs a brownie.
He shoves half in his mouth before adding, “I gave her a free copy of ‘Alanna’. She said her original is all worn.”
“I never get free books from you and I give you free cookies!” Steve teases.
“Yea well as pretty as you are you’re not that pretty,” Eddie pokes right back with a smile.
Steve let’s out a disgruntled huff and musses with his hair. “Whatever Munson. Just wait until I meet her.”
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You find yourself standing in front of Bard and Books only three days later, this time under the warm and shining sun. A younger woman and a small child approach, saying “excuse me” before they open the door and enter.
Without letting it close you follow behind, noting how they seem to know exactly where to go. You can hear Eddie’s voice from the back of the shop and you follow the woman and child in that direction.
The little girl releases her mother’s hand and rushes around a large bookshelf. You move slowly and quietly not wanting to interrupt whatever might be going on but when you peek around the books you’re taken by complete surprise.
Eddie is seated on a low stool, a bandana wrapped around his head and a large children’s book in his hands. He greets all the children seated in a circle on the floor in front of him, asking if they’re ready for story time.
A loud and squeaky cheer erupts from the floor and Eddie smiles wide. He hasn’t noticed you yet and starts to introduce the book to the kids. Every word he reads he exudes energy and enthusiasm, doing different voices for different characters and moving his body to make things more dramatic.
The kids eat it up and their sole focus in on his every word and move. You’re in the exact same state they are, unable to pull your eyes away from him and finding yourself completely engrossed in the children’s story.
When he’s finished the kids start yelling for more but their parents gently coax them away to search the children’s section so Eddie can have a break before he reads again.
You step out from behind the shelves and catch his eye. He immediately lights up when he sees you and in a few long strides he’s standing in your space.
“You came back,” he says on an exhale.
“And you were amazing! The kids absolutely loved it!”
“And how about you?” he asks, as he nervously grabs a piece of his hair and folds it between his fingers.
“’Where the Wild Things Are’” is one of my favorite books and I’ve never loved it more.”
You can see his cheeks begin to brighten as he mutters a soft “thank you.”
“What are you going to read them next?” you ask.
“Sylvester and the Magic Pebble,” Eddie grins.
You clap your hands together with a hop. “Can I stay and listen too?”
He throws his head back with a laugh and when his eyes settle on yours they are still crinkled at the sides.
“Yea, definitely! Get comfortable.”
You skip over to one of the empty chairs that are set up for the parents and sit, drinking in every moment of his performance just as much as the kids.
After story time is over and the kids have all left, books in tow, Eddie ushers you to the front and offers you another cookie.
“Steve was happy you liked them so much,” he tells you.  
“You mentioned me to Steve?” you ask, you tone playful.
“Well…you know, he likes to hear when his cookies get rave reviews soooooo…”
That familiar blush colors his cheeks and you giggle as he shoves some cookie into his mouth.
“You should come to the bakery some time. Steve has coffee and tea and all that stuff,” Eddie motions.
“I like all that stuff,” you say with a grin.
“How about tonight?” he asks.
“Sounds great.”
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“Wow Steve,” you mumble. “Oh my gosh. This brownie is so good.”
Steve smiles wide and he seems to grow an inch taller when he straightens up and puffs out his chest.
“Thanks. I’m glad you like it. I’m trying to perfect my recipe,” Steve explains.
You finish off your last bite and give him two thumbs up as you chew. You can feel Eddie’s eyes on you and you turn toward him.
“So good,” you state one more time. “I’m definitely going to be a regular here.”
Eddie can’t take his eyes off you and when you swallow and lick your lips his gaze follows the motion, heat building in it.
“What?” you ask, wiping at your lips.
Steve looks between the two of you and asks, “do you guys want to try my sugar cookies? Just baked them this morning.”
“You have a little something,” Eddie murmurs as he steps into your space.
“They even have my special icing on them,” Steve continues.
Eddie lifts his thumb to the corner of your mouth and gently swipes it across your skin. You lean into his touch with a whispered, “thanks.”
“Hello?!” Steve huffs loudly, waving his hand in your faces.
“Huh?” Eddie grunts, finally acknowledging Steve’s presence.
“Do. You. Want. To. Try. My. Sugar. Cookies?” Steve asks again, this time punctuating each word.
“Yea totally, “Eddie answers. “No need to be a butthead about it.”
“Me? A…I’m the…” Steve stammers, his eyebrows drawn in.
Steve throws his hands up and marches off, mumbling, “I’ll be right back.”
“Sometimes he’s a little grumpy,” Eddie states as he drops his hand.
You giggle and lean into him. “It’s ok. The sweets are worth it.”
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When you show up at the book shop the next weekend, Eddie is just walking out of the back room with a group of kids but this time you can tell they are all older teenagers. He spots you lingering by the door and jogs over.
“Hey,” he says, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth.
It catches you off guard and your breath hitches and when he pulls away you’re staring at his mouth.
Too deep in the tension between you and Eddie the approach of the teenagers goes unnoticed and when one speaks and asks, “is this her?” you jerk your head in his direction.
Eddie smiles sheepishly and scratches the back of his head.
“Uh yeah,” Eddie says and introduces you to each of them.
After they all say hello and pepper you with random questions Eddie kicks them out.
“That’s my Dungeons and Dragons group,” he explains, leading you toward the back. “We play every week.”
You walk into a large back room, furnished with a long folding table and lined with walls of shelves covered in books and figurines. There are several posters along the one wall free of shelves and the table is littered with dice.
“This is an awesome space,” you say excitedly as you peruse the room.
“Thanks. We have fun. Do you play?”
“I haven’t but it looks fun!”
You toy with the figures and flip through some books as Eddie follows you around and gives you the shortened explanation of everything.
“Come play with us next time,” he say as you make your way back to the books.
“Really?” you ask, genuinely excited.
“Totally.”
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The next few weeks pass in a blur of books, cookies and Eddie. Your visits to the shop become more and more frequent and the obvious tension between the two of you grows.
When you show up on the release date of the third book in ‘The Song of the Lioness’ series, you’re not surprised to see the store filled with more book lovers than usual.
You meander through the crowd and head to a quieter spot in the back, not wanting to disturb Eddie as he deals with all the customers.
You’re just pulling out one of the Dragonlace Chronicle books when you hear his voice. It washes over you in a heated awareness that sets your skin tingling.
“Those are great,” he offers as he walks toward you.  
“You’ve read them?” you ask.
“I read everything,” he replies, drawing closer until he’s standing directly in front of you.
His eyes drift to your mouth before he plucks the book from your hands and drags his eyes back up to yours.
“I was going to buy that,” you say softly.
He only nods, stepping so close that his chest brushes yours with his inhale.
“I also need my copy of the third Alanna book,” you whisper, your lips parted with your small breaths as his nearness overwhelms you in the best way possible.
“Don’t worry. I saved one for you behind the counter.”
He places two hands on the books above your head, trapping you against the shelf. He leans in, his warm breath whispering across your lips.
Just before his lips press to yours you hear a loud and boisterous voice calling his name. He let’s out a frustrated grunt and squeezes his eyes shut.
“That would be Dustin and the other rugrats here for their copies too,” he grits out but not without a smile.
You exhale and chew on your bottom lip with a nod.
He makes to push away but not before dipping his mouth to your ear and lightly brushing his lips across the shell when he whispers, “this isn’t over sweetheart.”
With an abrupt motion he jerks away and goes striding off around the shelves. You hear the boys erupt into cheers and you press your fingers to your tingling lips, unable to stop your smile.
You spend the next hour curled up on one of the chairs in the back and reading the first book in the Dragonlance Chronicles but your stomach grumbles and you realize you’ve skipped lunch.
“Cookies are lunch right?” you think out loud to yourself.
You lift yourself from the chair and stretch, setting the book down before wandering toward the front of the store in search of Eddie.
You’re just rounding the corner when he finds you, sweeping you under his arm and ushering you back the way you came.
“Hey!” you protest. “I was just coming to get some cookies!”
“Later,” he says as he pulls you into the game room and shuts the door.
You step back until your butt hits the gaming table, Eddie staring at you with that familiar heat in his eyes.
He moves closer, pressing you into the table, and goose bumps rise up all over your arms as his fingertips trail across your bare skin.
Your hands lift to his face and you comb your fingers through his hair before curling them around the back of his neck. His lips part on an exhale and he suddenly grips the backs of your thighs and sits you atop the table, settling between them.
“Eddie,” you murmur, your chest rising and falling rapidly.
“I had a dream about you last night,” he admits, his eyes dark.
You are about to ask what kind but the explicit hunger in his expression tells you everything.
He bends his head to gently brush his lips to yours, pressing himself harder between your legs. You tighten your fingers in his hair to draw him nearer and he circles his hands around your waist, sliding one up your back.
His rings dig into your skin and you feel dazed from the intensity of the rush of desire from his touch.
“You up for making my dream come true?” he murmurs against your mouth.
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@dreamlessinparis @hiddles-rose @ysmmsy @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @nordlysinthewoods​ @goldylions​
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deardiary17 · 2 months
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“Alright you lot!” John said loudly, trying to be heard over the chatter of the people. “It’s absolutely freezing outside, and Rose here is turning into an icicle,” he tilted his head to Rose, still hugging her close to his chest sideways - purely for keeping her warm, of course, not because of his humongous crush on her - and then motioned for the people to go towards the entrance. “She’s the best assistant in the world, and I’d rather not lose her to a cold or a nasty pneumonia,” he explained with a smile, but he was starting to get worried about Rose’s health for real. They needed to go to the warmth of the bookshop, even if Donna and Martha hadn’t finished with the last minute preparations yet.
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loudloudlove · 5 months
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Maybe In A Million Miles...
https://archiveofourown.org/works/50912458/chapters/128621206
Harry is the owner of a community outreach bookstore-come-soup kitchen that helps the homeless get back on their feet. He loves to help people and to watch them turn their life around. But is he neglecting his own?
Louis is serving a harsh prison sentence for committing a crime he should never have been involved in. He's had a lot of time to think about where he went wrong and how to put it right.
When Harry becomes a prison buddy he is assigned to Louis and there's no love lost between them. But there is a spark of attraction. Louis needs Harry if he wants early release and maybe Harry needs Louis to remind him that life is for living…
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batwingsandblackcats · 4 months
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once and formerly haunted
chapter 8: a faire companion
Read on Ao3
8/? | Chapter word count: 5,343 | Current total word count: 37,032
co-written by @sageobo31
Summary:
The Hazel Festival is coming up, and Laudna couldn't be more excited. Imogen finds that she'll willingly follow Laudna into a crowd.
Notes:
Hey hi hello it's been a million years again, life is nuts and this chapter was a bitch. We actually ended up splitting it in half at the last second. We hope everyone's doing well and hope y'all have a nice holiday/winter/winter break/etc!
We also have a full playlist going for this story finally! You can find the playlist here and the tumblr post here here
I would write a longer note but this chapter ate the rest of my brain cells. Hope y'all enjoy it!
—batwingsandblackcats
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nuclearanomaly · 9 months
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Bookshop AU - The All Saint's Party Incident: Outfits
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