#reading? i couldn’t even care to browse the shelves when we went to the bookstore the other day and it scared the shit out of me

[pink-lemonadefairy]

🌻 ₊˚⊹ ࿔ 🌳

[theonewiththefanfics]

Heartbreak For A Gift (Part 1/?)

Synopsis: Sometimes relationships start off like love stories in books. And sometimes they fall apart in a minute.

(Kind of an AU! I guess??)

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angst bruh

Warnings: swearing, sadness, angst, but nothing else that I can remember. Minimal editing

Word count: 2547

A/N: Please note I don’t know what the situation is between Harry and Olivia, if it’s a stunt or they’re actually dating. Whatever the case do not harass them. This is fiction and only for the purposes of the story. If they’re actually together - GOOD FOR THEM!!! No one is entitled to other people’s private lives!

Can be read as a one-shot if ya want, but I might turn this into a very small series cause I already have ideas as to where to go further with this, so hit me up if that’s what you’d like :)

If you know you’re a part of my tag list and see you’ve been crossed out, it means I can’t tag you for whatever reason. If you still would like to be a part of my tags please message me with your previous username and updated so I can update my lists :)

When she’d first said yes to going out with Harry, she’d had zero ideas as to who he really was. Well, that was a lie, she obviously knew of him, it’s not like she completely lived under a rock, and she’d seen a couple of his interviews, but 'One Direction' or Harry Styles as a solo artist hadn’t been that big of parts of her life, so she didn’t really care much for it.        They’d met at a bookstore on a sunny day in London. That’d been a good day. Her boss had let her go home a bit earlier than usual, the weather was warm, but not it’s-so-warm-I’m-sweating-my-ass-off kind of warm, sunglasses covering her eyes and hair free as the warm summer winds blew through her locks she was walking beside the Thames on her way inside the heart of the city.        Because she had a little bit more free time, she decided to pop into Waterstones, which was generally not a good idea for Y/N to do if she had things in store for the day; this time she could spend the rest of the evening if she wanted to, browsing books and living her best life.        Surprisingly for London, that particular Waterstones, even though it was in a densely populated area, was pretty empty, so Y/N felt free to skim through the options without having to press through a crowd of people to find the next section.        As she scanned what the shelves of New-Adult fiction offered, a man also came to look at the books. He stayed a bit further away, but he was certainly someone who caught people’s attention with the bright green daisy-print covered T-shirt, chequered shorts and the three scrunchies on his wrist.        The thing was as much as he’d grabbed Y/N's attention, she was more interested in the Waterstones exclusive edition of a book she’d been dying to buy, so when she saw it just sitting on the shelf, a small gasp escaped her lips.        Two eyes were immediately on her, and Y/N could feel them slip back onto her form from time to time as she greedily paged through the book, but she couldn’t say her own Y/E/C eyes didn’t flit over to the man as well.        He had a small bun on the top of his head, curly hair pushed away from the face, cheekbones for days, which were shaved and smooth and perfectly groomed brows arching over what seemed to be green orbs which were looking at the spine of a crime book way too intensely for it to be genuine interest. All in all, his side profile would be that of one of the characters Y/N’d simp over in a book, let alone the nails painted all colours of the rainbow which made her happy because nothing was better to see someone sticking it to the patriarchy.        But their little meet-cute was interrupted as an employee apologised while he tried to squeeze past them with a giant cart filled with new release books, and almost like a lost puppy, she started to follow the stacks of books when a hand on her shoulder made her spin around only to be faced with the man. She instantly recognised his face, but, at the same time, couldn’t really pinpoint what it was about him that was so familiar.

       “Sorry,” he said in a rough voice. “But you left this behind.”        And in his hands was the Waterstones exclusive.        Y/N’s eyes widened as she gingerly took it from him. “Oh my god, thank you! I’ve got no idea how I let it out of my fingers.”        He chuckled, motioning with his chin to the employee disappearing by the corner. “I’d say you got distracted.”        “Yeah, a little.” She bit her lip and drummed her nails against the cover of the book. “Well, uh… thank you. For not grabbing it for yourself.”        But he just lifted his hand. “More of a Murakami kind of a man.”        “Yes, well, I,” she nodded towards the book in her own hand, “like to read about people living out my dreams.”        He raised his eyebrow. “It’s a murder mystery.”        “Your point?”        “Would you say I have issues then if I wanted to ask you out on a date?”        Y/N’s heart stuttered in her chest, but he looked so nervous, so genuinely open and almost scared, she couldn’t feel any ill intentions from him, so she tapped her chin a bit as if contemplating before saying, “No. I’d say you have good taste actually.’        The relieved laugh he let out made him seem even prettier than Y/N already thought he was.        He extended his palm towards her, swaying on the balls of his feet a bit. “ ‘M Harry. Would probably be proper to know my name before we go anywhere further.”        “Y/N.” She smiled and clasped his hand in hers. “And it would probably be proper to know I was kidding about the whole ‘watching others live out my dreams’. People living out my dreams are actually in the books having hot sex with Fae.”        His laughter was loud and sudden, making Y/N duck down like she was in her Uni library and the librarians would come and shush them. But now, almost two years later since they’d first met, there was no sign of those butterflies she’d felt in the middle of the thriller section of Waterstones. Now Y/N was sitting by a large table, body slowly numbing as was her mind to keep the pain from her heart spreading. Whatever Jeff was talking about now, she didn’t hear. There were eyes on her, had to be to gauge her reaction, but they wouldn’t get anything more than slightly parted lips and a blank stare turned towards the marbled top.        She knew Harry was nervous; from her peripheral vision, she saw his thumb scraping at the rest of his nail lacquer, chips of pastel yellow and green polish flaking off and floating to the carpeted floor.        Y/N didn’t like LA. She’d never wanted to go there. Maybe as a tourist for a couple of weeks sometime down the line, but because of Harry and his commitment to ‘Don’t Worry, Darling’ and because he’d basically pleaded with her for days on end, she’d agreed to move there with him for the time he was shooting the movie.        It’s not that the city wasn’t beautiful. The sun, the sea, the greenery surrounding her was absolutely breath-taking, but it was the people that she didn’t really mesh with. Sure, she knew dating Harry came with a lot of what LA’s society was like. The need to look absolutely physically perfect to match the unachievable barbie standard, the fake niceness people usually exhibited just to get something for themselves or possibly raise them higher on the popularity scale, but Harry had always wiped away those doubts. But now all of that seemed like one big lie. He’d told her he didn’t care for any of it, not when it concerned Y/N nor when it concerned himself. But the contract in front of them said something different.        A hand touched her back. “Y/N?” Harry’s voice was tentative, wavering at the end of her name.        For the first time since the proposal had been thrown out, she lifted her eyes to look around at the people in the room.        Harry, Jeff, both their attorneys and Olivia Wilde and her attorney. The other woman, once their gazes met, immediately looked away. Y/N wanted to scoff at that.        “What…” Harry gulped, brushing a hand across her back. She’d never flinched away from him, but this time she did. Harry visibly shrunk in his seat and pulled back. “What do you think?”        What did she think? Well, she was thinking a lot of things, and the urge to say all of them was immense, but instead Y/N bit down on her tongue, reaching for the legal papers in front of her and skimmed through them.        She’d read each and every word as they’d been read out loud by the attorney, and every letter had been burned into her brain now. There was no way to get them out from her mind, and they’d haunt her forever.        “The fact that you’re asking me what I think of it already means you’re considering this.” Surprisingly enough, her voice was steady even though she was on the verge of collapsing after everything. “So, I’ll make this really easy for you – do it. Because, from now on, you’re a single man and you can do whatever the fuck you want.”        Harry’s face paled immediately at her words, hand moving to grasp Y/N’s, but they were in a tight ball in her lap, not moving an inch at his touch.        “Y/N, please.” Olivia was the one reaching out now, a pained and terrified look on her face, but the girl just stood up from her chair and went to the coat rack taking her coat and the bag that was discarded by it.        “No, you asked what I thought.” Tears had started to form in her eyes while she shrugged on her jacket. “This is what I think. If you even for a second assumed I’d be alright with this shitty stunt, Harry, then through the last two years we've spent together, you’ve learned nothing about me, and to me, it means it’s not worth it.”        Harry was now standing, desperate to touch her face, but Y/N once again pulled away.         “You two,” Y/N said pointing between Olivia and Harry, their faces twins of fear and regret. “Have never needed publicity. Not like this, so don’t try and bullshit me that this will make great promo for the movie. There are so many other ways you could drum up interest, but this…” She let out an unamused chuckle. “How could you think I’d be okay with you pretending to be in a relationship with someone else?”        “No, please… just hear us out. You don’t know what it’s like.” Harry tried to plead, hands in his hair, but it was the wrong thing to say, as she took a step back, eyes wide in disbelief.          But Y/N was calm, and with how rigid Harry became he knew he’d fucked up more than before.        “I don’t understand?" she breathed. “The number of things and events I’ve said ‘no’ to… the…” Her voice was as still as the sea before a storm as she took in a deep breath and exhaled. “Harry wants Y/N there for the opening of his tour, so Y/N drops everything and flies out even though she misses a presentation that could have her up for a promotion. Harry doesn’t want to be seen walking inside a club with someone, so Y/N goes to the back entrance to save his face. Harry is tired and just wants to sleep, so Y/N passes on her friends’ birthdays because he wants cuddles. What Harry wants, Y/N does. And I did. I did all that happily while keeping our relationship private while snaking in and out through back doors like I was some dirty secret of yours just so you could keep the illusion you’re single…” Y/N shook her head. “I think I understand very well… But now… it’s my turn, my time to ask of you something.”        “Anything,” he pleaded, probably thinking that Y/N was going to ask him not to go with Jeff’s stunt, and he’d gladly tell them all to fuck off if it meant her staying. “I’ll do anything.”        “Let me go.”        If Harry’s heart hadn’t been in his chest you would’ve been able to hear it break as it smashed against the floor.        “Let me go,” she repeated. “And don’t come after me. Because I won’t take any part in this.”        “But –,” he was choking on his words. “But I don’t want to. I love you; I can’t just let you walk away like that. I won’t do it, none of this is worth it.”        “And I didn’t want to do a lot of things, especially sit in a meeting on Valentine’s day where my boyfriend was talking about faking a relationship to promote a fucking movie, but here we are.”        This time when he reached out to cup her cheek, Y/N let him. “Please. I swear I won’t do it, just please let’s talk about this. Don’t give up on me.”        But she was unwavering. “For the rest of our relationship, however long that might’ve been, I would’ve wondered if you hated me if you despised me for not agreeing to go with it if the movie didn’t do as well as your management predicts it will with this. And I won’t have that. I won’t be in a relationship where every second will be spent in doubt that I’m stifling your career and you could potentially resent me.”        “I could never hate you.”        “Yeah.” She let out a sob. “You actually claim to love me but would be willing to put me through that kind of fuckery, so something has to be a lie.”        Without looking at anyone else in the office, Y/N stepped away from the man who once made her feel like she could conquer the top of the world and opened the door, but didn’t even manage to take a step outside when the voice of the person she never wanted to hear from called after her, and although Y/N had been calm and collected, she snapped at him. “Oh, don’t worry, Jeff,” she snarled. “It’s not like I can talk about anything that happened here. You made sure of it. Smart move, by the way, I’d say you should continue it. NDAs right before any meeting… I guess that’s how you keep your clients' careers spotless, so your stunt won’t be exposed.”        The way she whipped around to move towards the door would’ve given her whiplash, if not for Harry standing in front of her, arms weaving around to keep her in place.        “I’m sorry." He was verging on hysterics. "Please just… please Y/N don’t…”        It seemed like he no longer even understood what he was pleading for. For Y/N to not break up? To not leave the room? LA? All he knew was that if he let her walk out of the door, he’d never see her again, and she’d make sure of it.        “No, Harry, I think I actually will, because the thought of being in the same city as you, is going to make me throw up right now,” Y/N said eyes not daring to meet his, because if she did, she'd break and her resolve would dissipate. “Besides, you have loads of things to talk about. By the time you get back, I’ll have my stuff out of the hotel. And Jeff?”        His manager looked sheepish as she glanced at Y/N.        “The least you owe me is a ticket back home. The first flight you can find.”        He didn’t answer, just nodded. She didn't deign to thank him.        “Happy fucking Valentines to you two.” She looked at Olivia and Harry, who was breaking apart at the seams, but no longer could she find it in herself to care. He didn’t care enough about her anyway. “Hope you have a very happy relationship.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​ @raylovessarcasm

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​

A/N: I’m (kinda?) back? I guess. I dunno. I’m in this weird place where I’m writing my books and then I get inspo for fics and I start writing them, but can’t seem to finish them so I dunno :D

P.S. what did ya think?

P.S.S. please don’t repost my works on other platforms (Wattpad Ao3 etc without specific written permission)

P.S.S.S. my tags are always open :)

[morganofthewildfire]

Ivy - Chapter Six Deleted Scene - The Bookstore

Masterlist

This scene takes place in chapter six of part one, after their first time together. It's mentioned in part six, at the beginning, when they snuck into the backroom of a store, and ... you know.

- 1200 words

CW: NSFW

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Orynth, 1885

Aelin was humming with excitement as she pulled Aedion down the street, butterflies in her stomach mixed with the heat that had been there ever since that night the other week. Even her impending marriage couldn’t stop her from smiling now.

She let out a little giggle to herself, not looking at Aedion when he sent a confused expression her way.

“What’s got you all smiley?” He asked incredulously, raising a brow.

“Oh nothing, dear cousin,” she lied through a smile, “nothing I would tell you about anyway.” Aedion just snorted and shook his head, turning back to face the sidewalk as they made their way down to the strip of shops, where a certain bookstore she’d arranged to meet Rowan was.

Their meetups had to stay secret, even if she wished they didn’t, but she didn’t care in the moment, too excited by the idea of being with him, talking to him, touching him. Aelin let out a little chuckle, skipping a little bit as they hurried down the street. But when they reached the door of the bookstore, she turned to Aedion.

“Hey, Aedion,” she said casually, “do you mind picking up the new hat I ordered from that store down the street?” He narrowed his eyes. “I’ll be fine here, I’ll just be browsing for books.” She frowned at him. “It would be faster if you just go by yourself you know? And then we can both be on our way.” She then smiled, trying to persuade him.

“Fine,” he grumbled, pointing at her, “Just stay here, okay? No funny business.” She raised her hands in supplication.

“No funny business.” And then he was heading away. Aelin slipped into the shop, smiling at the worker as she walked casually into one of the rows of shelves, trailing a hand across the spines of the books. She did that for a few moments until she heard the familiar jingle of the door opening. Rowan.

She headed toward the back of the store slowly, pretending to look at the books. But she kept an eye on the worker the whole time, who was sitting behind the desk, reading a book of his own and not paying attention to the store. Perfect.

She smiled slyly as she slipped into the back storage room, an unoccupied and unsupervised space. She turned around, looking at the space. There were boxes, stacks of books, and a table on the side that she walked toward. The door opened again as Rowan slipped in, and Aelin turned around, smiling and meeting his handsome face. She leaned back against the table, relaxing as he prowled over.

“Well hello,” she said coyly, as Rowan set his arms on either side of her, caging her in against the table.

“Hello,” he replied, a small smile curling on his lips. And Aelin didn’t waste anymore time, immediately grabbing his head and pulling him down for a passionate kiss. He met her eagerly, slanting his mouth over hers and grabbing her hips, pressing her against the table with his own. She tugged on his hair, closing her eyes and willingly falling victim to him. Gods, from the first time they’d done this, she knew she’d never want to stop. Even if the first time had been to prove a point, to save herself from the torment of her first time being with Arobynn, she still couldn’t imagine ever doing anything else.

Aelin sighed as Rowan traveled down her neck, pressing kiss after kiss to her sensitive skin. She let out little gasps as he went, his hand traveling up and catching her breast through the fabric of her dress.

“Gods, Rowan,” she moaned, holding him close. He massaged her breast, and she pulled him back to her mouth, letting him slide his tongue in and devour her the way they both wanted him to. He swept it across the roof of her mouth, making her eyes roll back into her head. Damn, he was so good at this, she didn’t understand. But she wasn’t complaining. But “we need to - “ a pant “hurry - up.”

Rowan groaned, dragging his hands to grip her hips before pulling back and flipping her, pressing her against the edge of the table. She clutched the wood, gasping as he nipped at her ear from behind, his heat pressing into her. But her bustle was in the way as he began lifting up her skirt. She giggled slightly at the roadblock, and Rowan’s obvious frustration.

“Why does this damn thing have to be here?” He complained, laughter in his voice. Aelin just reached down and helped him unattach it without taking her whole dress off, laughing at his struggle. “Thank the gods,” he muttered when it was free, a bright smile on his face when she looked back at him. Little moments like that made her heart swell, as it was a reminder that this was just more than a physical connection between them, they really loved each other too.

But she still braced her hands in front of her as he pulled up her skirt, pulling down her undergarments at the same time. Aelin reached back and grabbed his head, pulling him closer so he placed a wet kiss to her jaw, sucking on it as he freed himself from his own pants.

“Rowan,” she groaned as he pressed up against her, holding her hips as he nudged at her entrance. And then she was full, a loud moan escaping her.

“Shh,” he whispered into her ear, “you can’t be too loud.” He chuckled darkly, and the vibration against her skin made her shiver. He ghosted a thrust into her and she gasped quieter this time, her hands curling against the table. But the faster he started moving, the more her insides melted into a coil of heat, the more the table moved, banging against the wall. Hearing that, Rowan dragged a hand from her hip to her chest, pulling her up against his chest. She was panting, resting her head back on his shoulder as he thrusted into her.

His grunts in her ear showed he was getting close, just like her, the heat in her rising until she was getting close to that blessed edge. The edge that only Rowan had ever helped her find.

He snuck his other hand underneath her skirt too, brushing his fingers lightly over her sensitive nub, making her gasp again, a rush of sensations roaring over her. Gods, she was close. She was so so close.

He nipped at her ear again, tugging at the delicate skin, and that broke her, pushing her over the edge. Aelin’s eyes fluttered, her body clenching around him as his rhythm stuttered, groaning in her ear as he broke himself, spilling into her.

“Gods, Aelin,” he breathed as they came down, their heavy breaths intermingled as they sat there, him still inside her as their bodies calmed. “I love you,” he murmured, pressing a flurry of kisses to her face.

“I love you too,” she replied breathlessly, finally able to move her shaky hands up to fix her hair as Rowan gently pulled out of her, kissing her neck again as he tucked himself back in his pants, brushing his hands down her arms in a soft caress. And without fixing her own clothes, Aelin turned around, smiling brightly at him.

Nothing, not even her impending marriage with Arobynn, could erase what she felt when she was with him. They were two halves of the same whole, and they always would be.

taglist:

@lexflame @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @camilamartinezdunne @rolltide7 @sleeping-and-books @tottenhamboys20 @firestarsandseneschals @yesdreamblog @jlinez @superspiritfestival @courtofjurdan @booknerdproblems @1islessthan3books @ireallyshouldsleeprn @imaginedhaven @fangirlprincess09 @lauraisfae @claralady @sassys-world @booksbqueen @aelinashryvergalathynius18 @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @http-itsrebecca @perseusannabeth @throneofmak @emilyoftheshadows @poisonous00 @thegoddessofyou @highqueenofelfhame @chieflemming @thesurielships @annejulianneh111 @tomtenadia @aflickeringsoul @woollycat22 @empire-of-wildfire @jesstargaryenqueen @gracie-rosee @wanderingjpg @cicada-bones @shyvioletcat @thewayshedreamed @rowaelinismyotp @miserablesmusings @grandma-noob-lord @myworldofbooks @danibutterr @wordsafterhours @vanzetanze @dangerouscherryblossompenguin @sailorsassley @rainbowcheetah512 @live-the-fangirl-life @rowanwhitethornisbae @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @charlizeed @story-scribbler @westofmoon @foughtconquered @post-it-notes33 @ingrid1234 @larisssss

[youreacowgirllikeme]

White Lie

note: this plot entered my head and refused to leave, so here we go. Enjoy

words: 2.7 k

warning: swearing, smut (unprotected sex)

“Bliss!” you thought, taking in the unique smell of the bookstore. The last few weeks had been crazy, work keeping you on your toes even on the weekends. This was your first free day in over a month, and what was better than spending it at your favorite place in town.

You loved aimlessly browsing the dozens of shelves for something new to read, your favorite pastime since childhood. You were still contemplating about the kind of lecture you were looking for when a bright red book spine caught your attention. You had always been a person who could be easily attracted by a pretty, colorful cover, so your hand instinctively surged forward to grab the book out of the shelf. But before you could get a hold on it, another hand got in your way, blocking yours and snatching the volume right under your nose.

You were about to complain to whoever had the audacity to get between you and a book, when you looked up at the stranger.

“He’s so tall.” Was the first thing that came to your mind, followed almost instantly by “And hot.” You could feel yourself starting to get slightly flustered, your initial anger forgotten.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think anyone else besides me could be that interested in the medias influence on the US’s political relationship with China.” The stranger said. He had a smooth, deep voice, the kind of voice you could easily imagine yourself listing to for hours. You stared at him, your usually quick brain a bit overwhelmed with your body’s visceral reaction to the mans presence .

“Political relationship with China?” you repeated, confused and sounding like the biggest idiot ever to your own ears.

“Yes, because that’s what this is about.” The man turned the book around so you could look at the cover. “You’re aware that you’re in the politics section?” He added, slower, like he was talking to a child.

You tried to collect yourself, you usually prided yourself on your quick-wittedness and you didn’t like how nervous this stranger was making you at all. You didn’t know what it was about him, maybe his imposing figure or his intense gaze, but he was intimidating.

“Oh, yes, I was searching for a similar looking book.” You lied quickly. “My mistake.”

Turning around to another shelf with some new arrivals, you grabbed the first red-spined book that caught your eyes.

“Here. That’s the one I actually want.” You replied, showing the random book to the man. He mustered the cover and a small smirk settled over his face.

“The Hellfire Club, huh? You’re a fan of political thrillers?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Of course, huge fan. I’ve read all of the authors works, been really looking forward to this one. I heard it’s set in New York.” In reality, you didn’t have the slightest clue what this book was about, and even less why you were lying to this random guy about it. Did you just want him off your back, or did you want to impress him, engage him in conversation? He was fascinating and for some reason you felt like this conversation was spinning a bit out of your control.

The man raised his eyebrows at you, looking like he could sense your nervousness.

“It’s a decent book, I guess. But I heard the author is a real prick.” He gave you an almost conspiratorial wink. “I have to go now, but enjoy it. New York is definitely a fascinating city.” He turned around and left in the direction of the checkout.

You opened the book, looking inside to find out who this guy was having such a low opinion about. There was a small picture of the author in there, and as you studied it you felt like you might get sick.

It was the stranger from moments before. Jake Tapper. You had lied to Jake Tapper. You groaned internally, why the hell hadn’t you recognize him?

Yes, you didn’t watch his shows, too little time. But he was something like a celebrity, and you blatantly told him absolute bullshit about his own book in an attempt to appear cleverer than you were. How had this guy been able to unsettle you that way?

“The damn Capitol is literally on the cover, you idiot.” You whispered to yourself, absolutely mortified. You had to go after him and clear this up or you would never rest again.

But as your eyes scanned the bookstore, he was already making his way out, disappearing onto the crowded street.

+++

Two weeks later, you still couldn’t think about the encounter without being totally embarrassed. You had bought the book, and of course it wasn’t set in New York. But it was a fascinating read, you weren’t able to put it away for the whole weekend, finishing it only three days after you purchased it.

At the same time, you weren’t able to stop thinking about Jake Tapper either. Even in the brief moment you shared with him, he had managed to leave a lasting expression, and your thoughts were circling around his dark eyes and deep voice more often than you’d care to admit.

The sound of an incoming email disturbed your thoughts, and as you checked, it your heart did a little jump in your chest. It was the newsletter from your favorite bookstore, announcing an event with no one else than Jake Tapper himself, signing copies of his latest political thriller The Hellfire Club.

Without even thinking about it twice, you signed yourself up for the event. You had to see him again, try to explain yourself and get some closure about the situation, or those thoughts of him would probably haunt you forever.

+++

You’ve been anxiously waiting in line for thirty minutes now, and finally it was your turn. As soon as the man’s eyes landed on you, he raised his eyebrows and a smug smile settled over his face

“And so, we meet again. I sincerely hope the lack of New York content wasn’t too much of a disappointment.”

So he remembered you. Great.

“Ok, I deserve that.” You murmured, embarrassed by the whole situation. You started to regret even coming here, but now you had to get it over with.

“I just came to, well, apologize, I guess. And prove that I’m not an idiot.” Why were you blabbering like that? This man’s scrutiny made you so nervous, his attentive gaze was fixed on you while you were struggling to explain the situation.

“I loved the book, by the way, great style and the storyline was very captivating. Even without New York.” You added, a weak attempt at a joke. To your total surprise, he chuckled, a sound that made you even more agitated. By now, you were sure that your face was the color of a fire truck.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Jake replied. “And no hard feelings about what happened. Maybe I should let my next novel play in New York in reference to our encounter. Also, I am at a bit of a disadvantage here, you know my name but haven’t told me yours.”

You quickly introduced yourself, and he reached over the desk to take the book you held in your hand. When you didn’t let go immediately, his hand stopped, and he looked at you with a puzzled expression. His fingers were brushing against yours, a fact that obviously overwhelmed your brain as you weren’t able to move a muscle to hand over the book.

Touching him made a spark went through you, and from the way Jakes eyes slightly darkened, you could tell that he had felt it as well. You stared into each other’s eyes for seconds until someone in line behind you coughed, and you snapped out of your frenzy.

“I assumed you want me to sign your copy.” Jake mumbled, still holding onto your book.

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry.” You replied hastily, handing him the volume and internally cursing your body for the nervous, awkward way it behaved in front of this man.

Jake grabbed a pen, signing the front page and scribbling a note into the bottom right corner. He handed it back to you, and you opened to read what he had written. It was a row of numbers, and before you could make sense of it, he spoke again.

“That’s my number. I would love to hear some more of your potential book ideas, if you’d be interested. Maybe over dinner, or some drinks?” His voice was smooth, but there was a hint of insecurity, like the smallest crack in his façade.

Was he asking you out? Quick, you told yourself, say something.

“Uhm, yeah, sounds good.” Wow, great response. Pulling yourself together, you added “I’d love to.”

“Great. I’m looking forward to hearing from you, Y/N. Now, I’m sorry, but I think there are some more readers who demand my attention.” Jake said, pointing to the waiting people behind you. “I’ll see you around?”

“Absolutely!” you burst out, your own voice sounding terribly loud to your own ears, and without saying goodbye, you turned around and fled the bookstore.

+++

Back at home, you tried to make sense of everything that had happened. First of all, you had, one more time, acted like a train wreck in front of Jake Tapper. And secondly, it obviously hadn’t bothered him too much, because he had really asked you out.

What brought the next problem, what was an appropriate time to call him? Your head went through every possible option, from phoning him right now to never contacting him again to save yourself from further embarrassment. After some back and forth, you decided to wait another day, that gave you enough time to think about what to say to him.

+++

“Hello, Jake Tapper speaking.”

Hearing his voice was enough to make your own go slightly shrill with nervousness.

“Uhm, hi, this is Y/N, from the bookstore yesterday, you remember?”

“Of course I remember.” Jake replied, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was wondering, if the offer still stands, I’d love to have dinner with you somewhere.” You were proud that you managed to keep your voice steady despite your fluttering nerves.

“Absolutely, whenever your free. How does Saturday sound?”

+++

It was Saturday, and the restaurant you had agreed on was packed with people. The food was great, and the company even more so. After a glass of wine, your initial anxiety had eased down a bit, allowing you to engage in some actual conversation with Jake. He was as fascinating as you had expected, and you found yourself dreamily staring at his eyes and the way they lit up when he was talking about something he was especially passionate about.

You discovered your shared love for books, and the bookstore you had met in in particular, it was Jake’s favorite as well.

“How is it that I have never seen you there before?” you asked.

Jake shrugged, leaning back into his chair.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have much time to go there, and when I do its usually first thing in the morning when they open up. But I buy a book every time. And I’m glad we finally ran into each other.” He leaned towards you again, focusing his eyes on you in a way that made your body heat up.

“I’m glad you even wanted to see me again after that awful first impression.” You mumbled, it was still uncomfortable to talk about that. But Jake just chuckled softly, reaching out to grab your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. For a moment, the soft stroking of his thumb against your skin was everything you could focus on.

“It definitely wasn’t awful, far from it actually. And please don’t assume I wasn’t nervous as well, you are gorgeous and were browsing the politics section of the bookstore. I just had to talk to you.”his voice was dropping a bit as he pressed his thumb down against a sensitive spot on your palm, making you gasp slightly.

Somehow, the knowledge that you had made the Jake Tapper nervous gave your ego a slight boost.

"Well, you didn’t show it, but I’m glad I’m not the only one who felt that way.” You said, squeezing Jakes hand and, in a moment of bravery, began to slide your bare foot slowly against his leg. His sharp intake of breath told you that it had the intended effect on him.

“So you buy a book every time you’re in the store.” You continued, trying to appear unfazed while still keeping contact under the table. “Your bookshelf must be impressive.”

“I have quite the collection.” Jake replied, his voice a low growl now. His pupils were blown, making his eyes appear dark and almost hungry.

With a quick move, he reached under the table to where your foot had almost reached the inside of his tight and grabed your ankle in a strong grip. A tingling sensation went from where was was touching you all the way up to your core and you clenched your legs together.

„Careful, Y/N. Don’t tease me.“ Jake pressed out in a slightly stained voice.

The tension between the two of you was almost palpable by now.

“I’d just love to see your bookshelf, Jake.” you whispered, biting your lip. You wanted this man, and from the way he was watching you, you could tell that the desire was definitely mutual.

+++

One hurried bill and speedy car ride later, you found yourself pressed against Jake Tappers bookshelf by the man himself. Your hands were tangled in his hair as he was kissing you, his own fingers nestling with the buttons of your jeans. Your shirt already lay discarded on the floor along with his own, and the bare skin of his chest felt amazing where it was pressed against yours.

You groaned when Jake moved his lips to your jaw, kissing down your neck and softly biting into the junction of your shoulder. He slid your jeans down your hips, and you hastily stepped out of them before doing the same to his trousers, leaving the both of you in only your underwear.

When you grinded your core against his boxer-clad erection, he roughly grabbed your ass and pulled you over to the sofa.

"Enough with the damn teasing.“ he growled into your ear, pushing you down onto the soft cushions.

“Jake, please.” You whimpered as he unclasped our bra with one hand and pinched one of your bared nipples with the other.

You could barely think straight anymore, aching for his touch, your panties already slick with need. He pulled them down your legs, his fingers leaving a burning trail where they were brushing over your skin.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” He whispered when his fingers finally found their way between your tights. He circled your clit, but the soft pressure he applied wasn’t enough for you.

“Please.” You repeated, your voice only a breathy moan by now. “I need more.”

Jake softly swore under his breath, retreating his fingers before standing up and getting rid of his underwear. He took a moment to look down at you, taking in your naked body, splayed out on his couch, your legs spread.

The intensity of his gaze made you squirm and bite your lip in anticipation, he looked like he wanted to devour you.

“Look at you, all needy and ready for me. You are gorgeous, Y/N.” Jake said in a stained voice, before moving to lie on top of you, claiming your lips in a bruising kiss. His erecrion teased your entrance, his hands grabbing your thighs with a hard grip as he slowly entered you. You groaned into his mouth as he filled you until he bottomed out.

With a nudge of your pelvis, you encouraged him to start moving. His pace was slow at first, but he increased his speed as you raked your nails across his back and spurred him on with whispers of his name and pleads to go faster, harder.

“You feel so good, fucking amazing.” Jake growled, one of his hands grabbing a fist of your hair while the other one squeezed your ass, his nails digging into your skin, creating just the right amount of pain to drive you crazy.

You wrapped your legs around his hips and he groaned against your skin as he deepened his thrusts, driving you closer and closer to your climax.

His hard, relentless gaze never left yours as he was fucking you and being the focus of his unwavering attention gave you a heady feeling.

When he told you to come, it almost sounded like a command, and you clenched around him as you reached your peak. He followed you after a few more thrusts, holding you tightly as he came inside you.

“Wow.” You whispered, pressing your forehead against Jakes. He stroked your hair, eyes still settled on you, and it felt as if he could see your every thought.

“That was incredible.” you continued, and Jake hummed in agreement before pulling out and rolling off you. He still watched you with the same unreadable expression for a moment, before he spoke out.

“I want to be honest, Y/N. I hope tonight wasn’t a one-time thing for you.”

Your heartrate that had just slowed down a bit sped up again, a broad, happy smile settling over your face.

“That depends.” You replied.

Jake arched an eyebrow at you. “And on what exactly?”

“How impressive the content of your bookshelf really is.”

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Hades and Persephone

Summary: Rachel works at her family’s bookstore where she’s surrounded by stories and myths all day. So what happens when Camden Town’s myth, Alfie Solomons, walks in. 

//Totally inspired by Hadestown, who am I even kidding? 

            The little bell above the door jingled as someone entered. Rachel was hidden behind a stack of books so she couldn’t see who was coming in the bookstore.

            “'Morning!” She called brightly so they knew the store wasn’t empty.

            Heavy footsteps walked across the creaky, uneven floorboards accompanied by the soft brief thud of a cane. Along with the footsteps was the clicking of toenails on the wood, the clanging of metal, and the distinct sound of a dog panting.

            “You allow dogs in here?” A gruff voice asked.

            “Oh, uh, sure.” Rachel rounded the front counter to greet the customer properly.

            Alfie Solomons was the myth of Camden Town. The bogeyman, the shadow in every alleyway. His reputation was menacing and nearly everyone in the community had a story about him.

            And yet, he didn’t quite look the part of a monster. He was a bit intimidating in the flesh, but he was just a man. A bit shorter than she anticipated, yet well-built and wearing simple clothing.  

            The dog beside him gave him a more humane look about him. The dog was big but had a kind eye to him and as he panted and slobbering, he appeared to be smiling.

            Rachel was a little frightened to talk to the man, even if he did appear less wicked in person. “I-that’s a very nice dog you have.”

            “Yeah, thank you. Name’s Cyril.” Alfie peered at the young woman. “You’re not usually here, are ya? Never seen you ‘fore.”

            “Oh, I’m sorry, I’m the owner’s daughter, Rachel.” She didn’t know why she was apologizing.

            “Right, well your father gave me a book and it was utter shit,” Alfie replied.

            The comment made Rachel’s spine tingle in fear. Would a bad book warrant Alfie to do something in retaliation? Would he burn their store down? Kill her father?

            “I’m sorry I could refund you or-”

            “S’alright, love, just wanted something better.” He walked further into the bookstore, looking around the shelves of new and used books.

            “Oh.” She let out a soft sigh of relief. “Well, what do you like to read?”

            “I like good books.”

            Rachel couldn’t help but laugh. “Well, don’t we all?”

            He turned into one of the aisles to scour the bookshelves. Cyril followed obediently.

            “Do you like fiction?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Historical fiction?”

            “Sure.”

            “Well, we have new works. All Quiet on the Western Front. I don’t know if you’ve heard of it.”

            “Hm.” He grunted, still browsing the shelves. “What’s that about then?”

            “The war if I’m not mistaken. Many people have enjoyed it, my father hasn’t been able to keep it in stock for very long but we just got some new copies.”

            “Nah, nothing like that.”

            There was a hint of bitterness in his voice and Rachel could only surmise that he was a veteran. “Further back then.”

            “Sure.” His heavy boots trailed through the store, studying titles on the spines of books.

            “I may have books on the royal family’s history.” She turned into the aisle only to see him disappear around the corner into the next one. Another grunt told her she was still heading in the wrong direction, so she put out a wildly different option. “Antiquity?”

            It seemed to pique his interest. “Anything good?”

            “Well, I’d only suggest good ones to you, I know you don’t like bad books.” She found him in the next row of books.

            He barked out a laugh. “Yeah, well, not anything too long, yeah. M’very busy.”

            “What about a collection of myths?” She offered; glad she was finally narrowing down what he was really looking for. “I find they can be enjoyable but not very tedious to read.”

            He turned to look at her, curiosity in his eyes. “You sound very educated, anyone told ya that before?” He wondered.

            “Well, I…” She shrugged. “Figure growing up with an infinite number of books around me would teach me a thing or two.”

            He only grunted in response again. “Rare to find a very educated girl ‘round here. Your parents must not be very Orthodox, letting you get wild ideas from whatever book you can grab. Y’know there are some very scandalous books out there, love.”

            She laughed softly and shook her head. “I’m aware, but every book has at least some little tidbit of information we can take away from.”

            “And what do you think I’m gonna take away from these myths you’re offering me, aye?”

            “The Greeks used gods to highlight man’s true nature in all its forms. Their gods were more relatable, better suited to explain how the world came to be, and how it works. So, I suppose it’s a commentary on mankind.”

            He seemed impressed with the way she spoke, his brows lifting. “Right, well I’ll be the judge of that, won’t I?”

            “I suppose so.” Rachel turned so she could look through the store’s catalog and find the book.

            Alfie lingered by the front counter as she looked. He rested an arm on the counter and leaned over to see Rachel’s little setup. She had a cup of tea that was quickly cooling beyond consumption next to a book that had a ribbon in place as a bookmark. Curious, and a little neglectful of common courtesy sometimes, Alfie reached over the counter to pick up the book and see what it was.

            This Side of Paradise. By F. Scott Fitzgerald.

            Alfie read the dust cover with a frown.

            Rachel returned with the book and saw him examining the book she was in the middle of.

            “You like books ‘bout the war?” He asked, not looking up when she walked over.

            “I wouldn’t say I like them but there’s a lot to learn from them.” She said, a bit taken aback at how at home Alfie made himself with her things.

            “Yeah? Like what?” He turned the book over a few times before setting it back down next to the cup and saucer.

            “The-I apologize but were you in the war?” She asked hesitantly. The last thing she wanted to do was try and assert her opinion on the war when she was in the presence of a veteran, especially if the said veteran was a notorious gang leader.

            “I was a captain.” He made himself busy by looking around the rest of the shop, never meeting the shopkeeper’s daughter. “I wasn’t promoted by obedience or anything of the sort. I was promoted because I kept me men in line and I weren't dead. I don’t pretend to know why the fuck we were over there or what I gained from it. But that’s where I was for a number of years of me life.”

            Rachel wondered if he had always been the way he was before the war or if fighting had disillusioned him. Nevertheless, she was certain that in all the stories she’d heard of Alfie, she never once heard that he was a captain in the war. “I suppose I won’t know what you know but I learn what I can from books like this.”

        ��   Alfie didn’t respond to that. “That for me?” He pointed to the book in her hand.

            “Oh, yes, this is what you might like. Although, please let me know if there’s something else you wanted me to suggest for the future.” She handed the collection to him and went behind the counter to ring up his order.

            “Right.” He examined the book like the one she had been reading, turning it over. “So your parents are Jewish then?”

            Rachel paused as she was writing up the invoice. She wasn’t sure what she had said that would warrant the topic of religion. “My mother is, but my father isn’t.” She explained.

            “Ah, another good Jewish woman snatched up by a Christian.” He tutted.

            “He doesn’t believe in God.” She shrugged. “It’s the one thing they never agreed on.”

            Alfie looked mildly amused. “And what about you? The half-theist, half-atheist?”

            “You said I sounded well-educated. But I don’t have spiritual answers.” She smiled slightly. It was a strange conversation to have with a customer but she was oddly enjoying it. Alfie kept her on her toes, it wasn’t some mind-melting boring conversation about popular books. He was intrusive with his questions but almost in a well-meaning way even if he came off a bit gruff.

            “Well, how about that.” He snorted. “I suppose books don’t have those sorta answers do they? Just scripture.”

            “I do find it interesting that you’re a spiritual man who is buying a book about a polytheistic culture.” She said, continuing with the invoice.

            “Well, figure you can read about it, right? Ain’t much of a sin if you know it’s utter garbage. It’s entertaining, innit?”

            “Hm.” She nodded. “Eighteen pence.” She handed him the receipt.

            Alfie dug into his coat to retrieve some coins. “What’s your favorite book, then?”

            “I don’t have one.” She took the amount from him and put it in the till.

            “Aye? Girl with infinite number of books at her disposal doesn’t have a favorite book?” He chuckled to himself. “Didn’t think that was possible.”

            “I don’t pick favorites. They’re all different so why compare them?”

            Alfie didn’t respond again. He looked down at the receipt. She had carefully written out his full name. He was certain that although she had given her name, he hadn’t returned the favor. “You know who I am then?”

            “Pardon?” Rachel shut the till closed.

            “Never mind.” He shook his head and pocketed the receipt.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

            Rachel was minding her own business on her balcony. She was tending to her flower boxes trying to keep the little flowers alive in the smoke of London. It was her quiet time before opening up the shop downstairs. But there was a certain someone who didn’t care about store hours.

            There was a sharp whistle from the streets below. “Oi!”

            Rachel turned with her watering can in hand. “Oh, Mr. Solomons, good morning.”

            “Gotta bone to pick with you, Miss Watkins!” He shook the book of myths towards her.

            Rachel was a bit amused, albeit terrified. She didn’t recall giving him her last name. But the way he stood there with a grumpy look on his face made her stifle a giggle. Cyril was beside him, as per usual, his tongue lolled out as he happily panted.

            “We open at nine, Mr. Solomons.”

            “Right, well I’ll make sure that our conversation is over before nine.”

            “Alright then.” She set her watering can down and ducked back inside. “I’ll just be a minute.” She called out the window before shutting it.

            “Rachel, who’s that shouting outside?” Her mother was sitting at the breakfast nook with a cup of tea.

            “Just a customer, mum, I’ll handle it.”

            “You don’t have to open for another hour.” She reminded her.

            “It’s alright.” Rachel assured her and went downstairs to the shop. Pulling out her keys, she opened the front door up. “Come on in.” She allowed Alfie and Cyril inside. “Was there something wrong with the book?” She asked.

            “Have you read the one about Hades ‘n Persephone?” He asked.

            “Yes, that’s a fairly popular one.” She agreed, not sure where he was heading with the conversation. But she allowed him to lead as if it were a dance.

            Alfie set the book down on the front counter. “S’bullshit, innit? I mean, what am I supposed to think ‘bout it, aye? Ain’t romantic, ain’t heroic. Just a right shame, innit?”

            “I mean…” Rachel shrugged. “It’s tragic. Lots of Greek stories are tragedies.”

            “But he lets her out for however many months, yeah, so what? I’m supposed to think he’s some sorta hero for letting her go then locking her back up again?”

            “Every piece of writing is supposed to elicit a reaction from the reader. I think this myth has done its job with you.” Rachel pointed out, not sure how else to placate him. She couldn’t exactly change a myth to suit his needs.

            Alfie snorted and rolled his eyes.

            “Do you sympathize with Hades or Persephone?” She went around the corner to tidy up a bit as they spoke.

            “Who could sympathize with Hades, aye? Fucking god of death, ain’t he? Not supposed to sympathize with men like that.”

            Men.  

            The use of the word men was very telling to Rachel. So, she probed deeper. “Hades isn’t the god of death really. He is the god of the dead and he’s the god of the underworld. The Greeks didn’t see him as evil, but they didn’t want to attract his attention either.”

            “So, what makes him evil was kidnaping a woman,” Alfie concluded.

            “Yes, but there was humanity in him. Didn’t you see that?”

            He scoffed and picked up the book to flip through it carelessly. “Ain’t seeing any humanity here.”

            She gently took the book from him and turned to the myth. “Go now, Persephone, to your dark-robed mother, god, and feel kindly in your heart towards me. Be no so exceedingly cast down; for I shall be no unfitting husband for you among the deathless gods. And while you are here, you shall rule all that lives and moves and shall have the greatest rights among the deathless gods. Those who defraud you and do not appease your power with offerings, shall be punished for evermore.” She read the passage.

            Alfie’s brow furrowed. “He still did what he did.”

            “Yes, but the Greeks were dramatic.” Rachel shut the book. “If you’d like me to find you another book…”

            “You knew who I was the first time we met.” He interrupted her with something that had been weighing on his mind.

            “Well-yes. I’d heard a lot about you. It’s nearly impossible not to hear anything when you live in Camden.” She shrugged.

            “You weren’t afraid of me though.”

            Rachel lost her train of thought when their eyes met. Before, he had been flitting about the store so she hadn’t been looking at him long enough. But now, well now she could see the ocean in his eyes. Just enough of the shop’s lights got under the wide brim of his black hat to reveal his true eye color. They were certainly green but there was a wave of blue running through them as well.

            He raised an eyebrow at her when she went completely silent on him.

            “Oh uh…no. I guess not. Why do you ask?”

            He just chuckled; a bit bewildered. “You’re braver than most men are, love.”

            “Should I be afraid of you?”

            “Well, s’pose I ain’t the god of death or the dead, or whatever you said.” He looked amused, almost like her blind bravery was funny. “Don’t make me a saint though.”

            “You’re only a man.” The words sounded foolish when Rachel heard them out loud, but Alfie seemed to enjoy her candor.

            “Fucking hell, you’re something else, ain’t ya? Must be that half-Jewish half-atheist in you.” He shook his head and ran a hand over his beard.

            “Maybe, Mr. Solomons.”

            “Yeah, well you can call me Alfie.” He said, suddenly becoming a little less intimidating than he usually was. He was certainly struck by the young woman. So much so that it threw him off balance.

            “Did you get the sense that Hades was lonely? The Greeks paid him no attention because they were so fearful of him. Perhaps he thought that if he found a woman to give him comfort, he wouldn’t be so lonely and he wouldn’t care if people were afraid of him. Now he didn’t go about it a good way, but maybe that’s why he did it.”

            Alfie cleared his throat and shoved a hand in his pocket. She was getting right to the root of his being, passing through all his barriers and finding a nice cozy place in his heart. He was fucked. No one had ever gotten through to him so easily, if ever. “You get lonely all ‘round these books?”

            “Always,” Rachel admitted with a shy smile. “When I was younger I used to use books to escape but now I’ve learned that life is just too hard to escape when you’re older.”

            He fidgeted, scratching his cheek and messing with Cyril’s leash. “Yeah, I suppose I could understand that.”

            Rachel could almost hear the words he wasn’t saying. I get lonely too.

            “If-well I s’pose it would be nice to have someone to talk to ‘bout books. Can’t find enough people like that, now can you? So maybe I could stop by every so often, keep ya company.” He offered as if he was doing her a favor. When in reality he was being a bit selfish.

            She smiled sweetly. “I’d like that.”

            “Right.” Alfie took the book of myths. “Well, I’ll finish this and let you know what I think, ‘bout the rest of them, aye?”

            “Alright.”

            Alfie gave her one last look before leading Cyril to the door, letting the bell jingle as they left.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​ @kimmietea​ @karmezii​ @enrapturedbythemoon​ @vampgirl1997​ @tarafaithe​

PB Masterlist

[tomtenadia]

Island Dreams - Chapter 10

Hello everyone! Chapter 10 is finally here and is a good 5k words. I hope you will enjoy. we finally get to know a bit more about Rowan and Lyria and yes, we get to meet her... have your rotten veggies at the ready.

Things are still a slow burn but our lovely are taking one step at a time... they have still too much to deal with. But we almost there. I promise.

Happy reading!

-------

A couple of days had elapsed and Aelin was on her way to the bookshop with a box in her hands and a smug grin. Once inside the she noticed it was empty. “Rowan?” She called but no reply came. Where the heck was he? “Rowan?” She shouted louder “The shop is open and there is no one around.” With a thus, she dumped the box on the desk and the backpack behind it and went looking for him and found him five minutes later in the back of the shop, deep in conversation with the delivery man. He noticed her arrival and turned “What?” He asked at her annoyed expression. “The shop is unmanned.” Aelin explained, pointing at it with her extended arm. “It was just for five minutes.” Was his excuse. She stormed away and went back to the front of the shop getting ready for another day. Quietly she walked around the shop and took great care in fixing some of the display that looked a bit sad, then she took note of what needed replenishing and restocked some of the most popular titles. They had a few busy days and hoped for a repeat because she was enjoying herself immensely.

“I am back.” Rowan had finally reappeared. “We have been quite busy yesterday, I was just replenishing some shelves.” With a big grin painted on his face he took her hand and dragged Aelin to her history display showing her that her book was now sold out thanks to her display. “I won the bet?” She jumped in excitement, clapping her hands in front of her. “You definitely did and I have to treat you to a massive lunch.” “Told you.” She folded her arms and he smiled back. “I admit my defeat.” Rowan’s hands went up in a yielding gesture. “Good, because I have a present for you.” She walked to the counter and grabbed the box for him while he joined her at her side with a curious expression painted on his face. “Open.” Aelin gave him the box. Rowan opened the box and froze when he noticed it contained a mobile phone. “I don’t understand.” He looked at her. “It’s for you.” Slowly he opened the box and took the mobile phone out “Aelin, this is an expensive gift. I would have bought one if it really meant a lot to you.” Aelin shook her head “No, this is a present from me.” Then searched his eyes “And there might be a little bit of a selfish reason in it.” His expression was puzzled. “The night of the storm, I woke up and I was terrified I wanted to call you and realised I couldn’t. Sometimes I am reading a book and I want to share my reactions with you in the moment and I can’t.” Rowan held the mobile in his hands not sure what to do with it, but Aelin went in his help. She began showing him all the buttons, then switched it on and set it up for him. “Enter you code.” Rowan looked at her, again as if she was speaking a secret language he did not know. “It’s a four digits code that you use to access the phone. You can also set up your fingerprint recognition, but we can do that later.” “When is your birthday?” He asked with curiosity. “September 15th.” “So, 1509 it is” Aelin laughed and entered the code for him. After that she spent half an hour going through all the functions of the basic apps and how to download more. Then she went to the contact list and added her phone humber. “This is my number. Now you can call me and text me whenever you want.” She turned to him and his smile had her toes curl. A moment later she was beside him and pulled him closer and instructed him to put his arms around her neck. Rowan complied and in addition placed a kiss on her temple and in that moment Aelin took a picture of them. That picture became Rowan’s home screen “Perfect,” she muttered, pleased by her job then she turned and gave the phone to him. “You are all set up. You will have to select a ringtone.” “I need to decide which song. Can I add any song I want?” Aelin nodded “Once you have chosen, let me know and I will do it for you.” Rowan played a bit with the piece of technology in his hands that still felt alien to him. “I also have another idea.” She said timidly “Facebook and Instagram,” and again Rowan’s face was one big puzzle and she thought there was something incredibly fascinating in the fact that he didn’t have a mobile until half an hour before and had no clue about the whole world of social media. He was a rare human being. “They are platforms where people share things. Facebook you share things about you and Instagram is for photos.” Rowan flinched. He was not keen on sharing his life on the internet. “But not for you. I have a feeling you would not like that. I was thinking about the bookshop.” She explained “We can create a Facebook page for the shop, on there you can share book recommendations, you can write reviews and talk about new books you get in. You can promote the shop. Instagram you can use it to share photos of the shop and also promote books.” She continued and saw interest dawn on his features “You can advertise your shop on the visit Outer Hebrides website, so if you have tourist browsing for things in Stornoway you will appear in the list.” Rowan was staring at her in amazement “I love the idea very much.” Aelin smiled and launched herself to his computer “Good, now go and deal withe the customers while I work my magic.” “As you wish…”

When Rowan came back from dealing with the customers he noticed that Aelin was very busy at work on his computer. “You know that I will need that soon?” “Paperwork can wait.” She replied not even lifting her head to look at him and Rowan used the moment to admire her a bit more. Everyday since they had started talking, she had surprised him. In every possible way. And now she had gone and transformed into his marketing agent “Why do you care so much?” He was curious. This was not her business but she seemed to have decided to help him in every possible way. “Because independent bookshops are something precious. You are the only one on the entire island. Or at least the only one this big.” Rowan smiled at her and her eyes seemed to turn even more blue. “Speaking of which… orders… You know you could have someone create a website for you and people could place orders online?” Rowan cringed a bit. He was so old fashioned it was pitiful “I don’t know…” his hand scratched the back of his neck. “Ro,” she said, coming away from behind the counter and stopping in front of him. He realised that he actually liked when she called him Ro. “Think about it. You could extend your business from Lewis all the way down to Barra. Other islanders could buy your books online and you’d post them. Of course the postage is at their expenses, but even large bookstore chains do that.” He could kiss her. She was brilliant and he could just kiss her. “I have a friend in London who can help you with the website. You can speak of the phone, he can send you ideas via email…” he noticed she stopped. “Please tell me you have an email.” Rowan rolled his eyes “I might not be evolved enough to have a mobile phone, but I do have an email address and I can use the internet and I buy things online. I am not that much of an underdeveloped oaf.” And he noticed that Aelin began laughing and her laughter was music to his ears. “Sure. Now stop talking. You got customers.” “Yes, ma’am.” and he flashed her a military salute. Once he was done he walked behind her and stared at what she was doing at the pc. “This is you Facebook page.’ And she showed him what to do. How to create posts and update pictures. “So, do I just… talk about books?” Aelin nodded and Rowan took a step closer to her. His chest was not hard against her back. He thought for a moment she would react badly but she surprised him when he felt her leaning into him. His right hand clenched and unclenched at his side resisting the urge to run his hand against her arm, to tuck her rebel strand of hair behind her ear. He restrained himself and just leaned his chin on her head and chuckled. “What? Making fun that I am shorter than you?” “No.” He chuckled again “Just loving that you are the perfect size to fit under my chin. Sooo comfy.” Aelin turned and slapped him gently on his shoulder “Stop mocking my less developed height. Not everyone can be a giant.” “Yes, Fireheart.” And he placed a kiss on the top of her head. “What did you call me?” “Fireheart, you know, like the Queen from Cursed Kingdom.” Aelin looked at him with an expression that he could not decipher. “You remind me a lot of her.” “Because I am hot like her?” Rowan did not reply “You have fire in you. Like her. You are both these amazing women, strong-willed and intelligent…” She was staring at him and he finally removed that lock of hair from her face and his hand lingered a bit longer on her cheek. How could he have fallen so badly for her in such a short time? His head bowed slightly, while his stare was fixed on her lips, imagining how she would taste. She looked up at him, they were so close he could feel her breath. He was about to close the last remnant of space, when someone came into the shop. The two of them jumped apart and Rowan cursed the bad timing. He wanted to kick out the customer and claim the kiss he was robbed of. He stared at her while helping the customer and could not believe that she was leaning into the kiss. She wanted it too. Did it mean she had made her choice? What about Elias? She was still seeing him and could not ignore the sting of thinking of her in the other man’s arms. He was jealous. That was crystal clear. While she was busy he went back to the computer and had a look at her project and he was impressed. She had posted some photos and wrote a lovely blurb about the shop. “What do you think?” She asked, sneaking under his arm so it then was around her shoulder. “I love it.” He said softly. I love you.

A few hours had passed and around lunchtime Aelin had begged Rowan to close and go to Maeve’s to claim her victory meal. Rowan yielded. It had started to slow down a bit so they could afford to close for lunch. “Come on greedy guts. Let’s go and feed you, before you take it out on me.” In response, she gave him a massive toothy grin and grabbed his hand.

By the time they arrived a Maeve’s they were much closer and Rowan had an arm around her shoulder and Aelin was snuggling against him. Her excuse was that she loved his smell and she was trying to cover her clothes in it. “Well, if that’s not a surprise. So I guess you two have finally finished to kill each other.” Said the woman walking them to a table in a corner. “Yeah, I decided that I can keep him alive a bit longer.” “Gee, thanks Fireheart, I am so honoured by your goodwill. I am thy humble servant.” Aelin smiled “Now, stop talking, Buzzard. It’s food time.” She grabbed the menu and began reading. “Buzzard?” Aelin lowered her menu and glared at him “Yeah, when you are mad you have this predatory expression. You look like a bird of prey.” He took the menu from her and hid it behind his back. “Give me my menu.” “The magic word…” “Buzzard…” she stared in his green eyes. “Fireheart…” he returned the menu to her. “I am starving.” And at that Rowan scoffed and Aelin pinched his arm. “What?’ He squealed at the gesture “You are always hungry.” “Now shush.” She told him placing a finger on his mouth. Rowan gave her a few minutes. She was hunched over the menu and her blonde hair had spilled freely in front of her. With his hands he pulled her hair away from her face “How can you read with this wild mane of hair covering your eyes?” Then he pulled all her hair on one side and started braiding it in a nice neat braid and aelin was impressed at his skills. “Hairband?” Aelin removed the hairband from her wrist and Rowan tied her braid. He had lost control. He was aware of that. But he could not stop touching her. He needed the contact with her. After a while Aelin finally made up her mind and placed her order and Rowan did the same, albeit a more normal quantity of food. Once Maeve brought the plates Aelin was ready to dig in as her stomach had started to growl in protest. They were chatting and eating happily when Rowan froze when the door of the cafe opened and noticed who had entered. Aelin recognised the woman as well and under the table Aelin grabbed his hand showing him support. She had noticed his reaction and she wanted him to know she was there for him. Aelin noticed that it was another one of Maeve’s colleagues who served the brunette and not Maeve herself. She had a suspicion that was his aunt’s way to express her displeasure at the woman without being overtly rude. “Rowan.” Said the woman walking toward them and sitting down at the empty chair at their table. Aelin wanted to bite her head off and kick her away for thinking she had the right to sit down with them. In challenge she brought the hand that was on Rowan’s on the table, right in front of the woman’s eyes. It was petty but she did not care. “Lyria…” he finally managed to say something. Lyria looked at Rowan for a second but then her gaze shifted to Aelin and in particular on the had she was holding. His hand. “So, who is your friend, Rowan? Aren’t you going to introduce me to her?” She leaned back on the chair almost in challenge. “I am his girlfriend.” And Aelin put an arm around Rowan’s shoulder and kissed his cheek to prove her point. Rowan in the meantime was stone-faced and silent and she knew she had to fight the woman alone. Well, bring it on. She squeezed his hand almost in apology and her heart ached at his expression. One moment they were having fun, a moment later he looked like a broken man. “What do you want?” He finally managed a sentence but his tone dripped hate. “So you did manage to forget me in the end.” She whispered, but luckily for them the place was quiet “Although I think your tastes have declined a bit.” Aelin was about to punch her. Who was this woman? How could she judge someone she had never met? “I thought you liked women with… more meat.” Lyria grabbed a couple of fries from Aelin’s plate in plain challenge and gave her a smirk that brought rage through her. “I am glad I finally found a real man.” She continued, not caring about the pain she was inflicting on Rowan “One who does not spend his time reading fairytales.” Eventually Lyria stood and went to collect her order, say goodbye to Rowan and leaned toward Aelin “Bye stick.” Aelin jumped up, ready to inflict a beating, but Rowan grabbed her hand. “Leave her.” His tone was strained and that’s all she needed to sit back down and swallow her pride. “She just called me a stick.” Aelin growled “I have curves and boobs.” She sighed and crossed her arms at her chest “What a bitch.” She grabbed one of her fries and dipped it in ketchup “And how dares she touch my food?” Rowan chuckled and finally looked at her. And what she saw in his eyes hurt her. He stood “I just… I need to get out.” He was about to leave but Aelin stopped him ‘I am coming with you.” Rowan shook his head “I need a bit of time alone. Please.” His green eyes were sad again and she just wanted to go to An Lanntair and slap the woman. How dared she treat him like that?” “Okay.” She touched his face and leaned in the touch and Aelin thought it was progress. At least he was not pushing her away. “I’ll call you later.” He kissed her cheek “I am sorry…” “Go. I’ll be fine.” Rowan nodded and left.

Aelin finished her lunch, paid Maeve and left the cafe with renewed purpose. She marched to An Lanntair. She entered the venue and walked to Lyria trying to fight the urge to punch the woman. “Out.” She ordered. Lyria looked at her confused. “Follow me. Outside. Now.” Her voice was a command. Once the two women were outside Aelin finally let go of her anger. “How dare you?” Her voice was full of rage “How dare you treat him like that? Do you have a heart? That man loved you. You were engaged to him. How can you be so mean?” “You are definitely not his type.” Lyria said with a bored expression. Aelin growled “What I am does not matter. What matter is how you treated him and I cannot stand that.” Lyria laughed “Gods, you are in love with him. You just fell for the most boring man alive.” Aelin’s hand clenched “he is not boring. He is a very interesting person, and he is funny.” Lyria’s mocking laughter reverberated in the street “Funny? Rowan funny?” “Maybe he was not funny because of you. Maybe you are the boring one.” Aelin spread her arms and challenged her “Maybe you are the one who is not his type. He likes them with a brain, by the way.” And this time she noticed a reaction in Lyria. “Well, if you love him so much he is all yours. I haven’t had any need of him in a long time.” Aelin was second away from inflicting some form of physical pain on the woman, but then she noticed Lyria’s expression change and a veil of softness appeared in the lines of her face “He was a good man before his injury, and I believe he still is. But after his injury he had to stop competing and something broke in him.” She looked at Aelin “I still loved him deeply at the time. The shop became his new dream. I followed and supported him for a while. He proposed and I said yes, the realised that I was in love with an old version of Rowan and I just left him.” Lyria sat on the bench in front of the community centre “He is a good man. He is sweet and caring. He is perfect for someone.” She finally confessed and Aelin could note a spark of the love she once had for him “But not for me. He became this man obsessed with family and after he proposed he started talking about the future. Our future. He wants the whole romantic deal. I didn’t and I still don’t care for all of it. He deserves to be with someone who can give him that.” Her brown eyes now bore into Aelin’s “And if you can’t give him that, don’t even start this relationship. I hurt him enough. He does not need more pain.” And with that she left and Aelin was stunned at the woman’s words. She felt like crying. She had to talk to Rowan but she had no idea where he went. A text could get her that answer but she doubted he would answer. He clearly needed time alone. So her steps took her down to the marina, she watched the morning ferry dock and people disembark, then with new resolution walked back to the bookshop and opened again without him. The afternoon felt wrong. Not having Rowan in the shop left her with a sense of emptiness. Later in the evening, Aelin was about to switch off the pc and close for the day when she noticed his screensaver. Recognition dawned on her. It was a picture of Butt of Lewis and, if her mind was not playing tricks, she had heard him once mention the fact that he loved that place. She had her answer. Quickly she closed up the shop, locked the door behind her and swiftly ran home. A gut feeling told her that Rowan was at the lighthouse.

It was half an hour later when she arrived at her destination, and when she spotted his car she knew she had been correct. But now doubt settled in her. He had clearly come to this place to stay alone and think and she did not want to intrude. But she could not remove from her mind the hurt expression she saw on him at the cafe. She had to do something. Try at least. And if he’d end shouting at her… well. She’d take that. She got off the car and slowly walked to him. His back to her he was sitting at the edge of the cliff and he was staring at the sea crashing against the cliffs. She was behind him when she heard his voice “I am okay.” He said gruffly. Aelin’s chest tightened. That was not the voice of a person who was okay. Quietly she sat beside him in silence. And for a while they sat side by side staring at the sea. He would talk when he was ready. She was not going to push him. “So, I opened the shop all by myself for the afternoon.” His head whipped to her side and she could spot a weak hint of a smile. “And we had a successful day. I placed a few orders for you and I think I got Miss McKinnon obsessed on a couple of series.” Rowan did not say anything, he just grabbed her hand and pulled her to him “Come here.” A moment later, Aelin was sitting between his legs, his arms wrapped around her and his chin on her shoulder. “I am sorry.” He whispered “It’s just…” Her hands were on his on her abdomen “Shh… no, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself.” His arms were tighter around her and she leaned into his chest. “I had a chat with the bitch.” She felt him stiffen at her admission “I gave her a piece of my mind.” “I have no doubt about it.” “Ro, what happened to you? She said you changed after the injury.” Rowan sighed behind her. For a moment she thought he was not going to answer. That was a far too personal question but she needed to know more in order to understand this wonderful complicated man. “I was good. I loved swimming.” He told her “There had been talks as well for me to compete in the qualifiers for the Olympics. I was living the dream. I was still in Glasgow and had to balance uni and a professional sport but everything was perfect.” The pain in his voice was now clear and deep “Then I got back here and I did manage to continue to train. Lyria became my girlfriend and she loved the spotlight.” He sighed again “What I told you the other day was not the complete story.” She squeezed his hand, she hadn’t told him her whole story either “I kept competing for a while and I did manage to get into the qualifiers for the Olympics. Then one day my life just crashed and all went to hell. During training in the gym I was doing weights. An idiot bumped into me. I dropped the weights suddenly and ripped muscles and tendons. I needed surgery and in a matter of days my dream of the Olympics was gone. Recovery took a very long time.” Aelin gasped “that bad?” Rowan nodded “Butterfly stroke was my specialty. It’s a complicated one and after surgery it became impossible to do it again.” “I tried it once. I looked like a demented whale. It was embarrassing.” And finally she heard Rowan chuckle. “I took it badly and for a while I was… cathartic. But Lyria still was beside me. Then the idea for the bookshop came. I had always loved books and I thought that was the way for me to follow a new dream. And you know the rest.” Aelin twined her fingers in his “It’s a nice dream.” “It is.” “I think Lyria always resented me for my injury. I was famous in town and she loved being stopped and having other girl jealous at her for being with me.” “So I assume her current boyfriend is a Hollywood star.” Rowan squeezed the hand back. “I doubt it, but definitely someone with money and a big job. She… likes to be spoiled, and me being a professional swimmer paid a bit more than being a lousy bookshop owner.” “You are not lousy.” Her head turned and searched for his eyes, to tell him how much she believed him. “She sounds very shallow.” Rowan sighed again and Aelin felt a pang of guilt for making him talk about a part of his past life that clearly still did hurt “She wasn’t always like that. She changed a while ago. Her company of friends had changed and they became a sort of bad influence.” The wind had started to pick up a bit but Aelin had no intention of going back home and she decided it was time to tell Rowan her complete story. Her full reasons for moving in the middle of nowhere. He had opened up to her, she owed him at least that. “My story is not complete either. I told you about my failed marriage, but there is another reason while I escaped.” Rowan kissed the top of her head “You don’t have to.” “Yes, I do. You told me yours and I need to tell you mine. I want us to be honest to each other.” He gave her a squeeze in response. “I told you I was a doctor. I was working in St. Mary’s Hospital which is one of the major trauma centres in London. I slaved to be able to work there. They had a limited numbers for interns and I did manage to get in. Once I was officially a doctor I started to slave to make my way up the ranks I kept working like a madwoman and did all I could to become one of the best. Then a few months ago our head of department announced he was going to retire. And I knew I was going to fight to get that job. I wanted to be the head of the cardio thoracic department. It was my dream, my goal. At the interview I thought I had the job. Two days later I get a phone call telling me that unfortunately the position had been given to another candidate.” Aelin breathed out to calm the rage. “I would have accepted it if they had chosen a candidate better than me. But they didn’t” “Let me guess. Daddy’s little boy or girl got it.” Aelin nodded “The son got it. This idiot who barely made it through med school got it because his dad pushed for it.” Aelin stood and began pacing feeling the need of release all the anger that surged in her every time she talked about that “I was in the middle on the divorce with Chaol. This was the last nail in the coffin. I kept going back to work but I hated it. So much.” With a swift movement Rowan stood and stopped her, placing his hands on her shoulders making sure she was facing him. “Then one day I saw a picture of a Scottish island and I decided that I was out of there. I took a sabbatical. Two week later I was on a plane to Glasgow. A week later I was here.” And the tears came back in full force. Rowan’s arms went around her and she sagged against him and wept until she was spent. “I am glad you came.” That was as much as Rowan could manage to tell her that he was madly in love with her. Baby steps, he kept telling himself. They clearly were far too hung-up on whatever happened before and they both needed time to heal, but he felt like they were finally getting there. Having Aelin in his arms was wonderful enough. He was happy to take anything that she was willing to give him just now. Even if it was just embraces, caressed or holding hands. He would wait for her. “Ro, when I said girlfriend before…” “I know, it’s fine.” And he squeezed her tighter then kissed her head. “I have an idea that will cheer you up hopefully.” She looked up at him and gave him a big smile “I am all ears.” “Tomorrow is Sunday and you know everything is closed on the islands and so is my shop. So, how about an adventure?” Her arms were around his neck in an instant “Yes!” “Let’s go back in the car, it’s getting cold and I’ll tell you my plan.” Aelin ran and Rowan laughed. And a few minutes later they were on their way back. “So, we are leaving the islands tomorrow. We are taking the ferry back to Ullapool. There are a couple of amazing spot that I want to show you. We need to take the ferry at 8am which means check in will be from 6am. Will you manage?” “Are you kidding me? I’ll be up and ready whenever you need me to.” Rowan’s hand went on hers and smiled her back “Good.” Once back in town Rowan drove Aelin home, feeling overprotective and all. She got off the car and he followed her in front of the house. “I’ll come and pick you up at six, is it okay?” “Perfect.” “Wear something comfortable but also layers and a windproof jacket. The forecast for tomorrow is really good, but it’s Scotland.” Aelin nodded. He brushed his hand gently against hers “I’ll se you tomorrow.” Aelin kissed his cheek “Tomorrow then.”

Once she was in the house she squealed in delight and texted Lysandra with an update. She was giddy. And finally happy.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fiction is the lie through which we tell the truth

Warnings: noncon sex (oral, m&f, intercourse)

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader is a fic writer and her number one fan can’t get enough.

Note: This is probably the most meta shit I’ve written but for all the fic writers out there, this one if for you. Hope y’all get the good d you deserve but until then, here’s this!

Please let me know what you think in a reblog/reply! <3 please and thank you.

You let out a sigh of relief and hit ‘post’. It was almost pathetic but it was the best part of your day, or most days. Having something to share with others was nice. The fact that they enjoyed your work and your boredom-induced work made it worth the frustration. 

It wasn’t real writing. You knew that. Fanfiction was a genre to be laughed at. You didn’t admit it to anyone but there was a sense of pride to go along with the shame. 

That part of you was kept online. The darker parts; the lust, the angst, the fear. It all went hand in hand and no one would guess that the bookshop assistant was stevies-doll. It felt almost scandalous to have a virtual alter ego.

You closed your laptop and checked the time. More than enough to get ready for work. Plain blouse, grey pants, mary jane flats. You were the typical bookish girl with dreams that would never come true. 

The bus was late. Oh well. You’d still be there in time you’d just have to forego your usual espresso. Afternoons were draining and you often needed the boost to keep from nodding off in the last hour. You really weren’t sure why the shop stayed open so late; not many came out after five for books but traffic was relatively steady in the hipster village.

Nina met you with a frown. She preferred you at least ten minutes earlier. Tardiness had seen several other clerks fired and you had been the only to make it more than a year in the shop. Three in fact. This place was like a second home. A garden of ideas to plant the seeds of your mind.

When Nina left, you rearranged the desk. You moved aside her ledger and replaced it with your notebook, two pens to the right of it. In between the chime of the door and the rare customer queries you did most of your writing. When you reached a block you’d read, but today you felt particularly inspired.

The world was saved again. The news reports had shown footage of the daring rescue. As grim as the situation was, you couldn’t help but fantasize. The first avenger with his golden hair and sharp jawline was every woman’s Adonis. At least, you thought he was the very picture of perfection.

It wasn’t obsession. That was your mantra. You often argued with yourself. As much as you thought of the great Steve Rogers, it was only admiration. It wasn’t the possessive infatuation often found on social media. It was a hobby. An escape from the world. 

You bent over the notebook. The shop was empty. The dulcet tones of indie folk floated along the shelves. You set pen to paper and waited for the ring to draw you away from the world behind your eyes. 

You leaned on the counter and scribbled the first line in ink. That was always the hardest part. Then again, the beginning was always more exciting than the end.

‘The day the earth went dark, there was but one beacon left to shine…’

-

It was amusing at first. The thought of another person spending so much time writing about him. That someone would fabricate an entire universe in which he was entirely different. Somewhere out there was a woman who wore the pseudonym ‘stevies-doll’.

Steve knew he should have been perturbed by the fact. The idea of another so consumed by him that they would post almost every other day about him. He couldn’t remember how he stumbled on the small blog. A decent following but nothing close to viral. 

The first story he read was cute. It even made him feel warm. The second was very much the same. He clicked through to another, this one more serious. Grey and daunting. A few more and he stumbled upon one he found most interesting, the letters NSFW emblazoned across the top. He googled the acronym and clicked back to the tab. Excited almost.

When he finished, he was warm in another way. Hot, almost. The things he read, the idea of him doing them, was almost arousing. Of course, he had never done any of it. Had never been more than the perfect gentlemen. Sweet and doting. That was how love should be. But that wasn’t love, no, that story was sex. Pure, unadulterated fucking.

He forced himself away from the computer after that. He needed to sleep. He had intended to browse his email quickly but he often found himself in the oddest rabbit-holes. That was definitely the deepest. He shook his head and chuckled. It was funny.

The next morning he awoke and went about his usual routine. He was out the door by seven. Off to save the world. Or wait around for it to need saving. At Stark Tower, he listened to Tony with his eyes on his phone. It wasn’t anything important. Some recounting about how he had scared Pepper with a nano-spider. 

Steve gave a half-hearted chuckle and Tony went back to his screen. “Tough audience,” He muttered to Bruce who merely shook his head.

Steve leaned against a stool and squinted at his phone. He stared at the google search. Why had he typed it in? Somewhere in the tedium of Tony’s chatter, he had keyed in the name. He hit the first link and his phone loaded slowly. 

His own face stared back at him. The banner was a press photo he had taken over a year ago. His bright eyes were staunch beneath the mask as he stared off into the distance. She had posted again. His thumb hovered over ‘read more’. Did he dare? 

He looked up to make sure he was not being observed. The two scientists were too distracted to care about his online activity. He stood straight and cleared his throat. “I’m gonna hit the gym,” He lied. A grumble from both scientists as they squinted at the floating screens. “Right, have fun.” Steve said dryly as he left them to their work.

He stepped out in the hall and pressed his thumb to the screen. He bent his head over the phone as he walked blindly down the halls. Neither Tony or Bruce noticed through the window that he had gone entirely the wrong way. Steve didn’t either as his eyes flitted over the screen.

‘The day the earth went dark, there was but one beacon left to shine…’

-

You couldn’t believe how much your blog had grown in the last few months. You didn’t know if it betrayed your unexciting life or your one-track mind. Both, maybe. But it made your everyday responsibilities a little less tedious.

And the messages were even better than the hit count. Several had messaged to say they loved your work and went so far as to call you an inspiration. It was flattering but it was easy to remember who you were. No Stephen King or JK Rowling. You wrote silly one shots with limited development. 

Today your inbox had been steady. Every time you found yourself bored at work, you opened the app and you had another message. Most of them short or even just emojis but nice nonetheless. And there was one you were waiting to answer

So long and in depth you had to give it more than just a thanks. You opened it several times and reread it.

‘Your story is really interesting. I think the way your portray Steve is believable. In this type of writing you rarely find anything realistic but your writing feels genuine if not entirely accurate. I would say you capture the essence of Steve perfectly and his actions at least make sense.

I always enjoy your updates and even look forward to them...especially the NSFW ones. ;)’

It was one of the few users who didn't use the anonymous feature and also left a complete comment. It was refreshing and you had come to look forward to their commentary. They went by CapUSA. Another Steve fangirl who was surprisingly inactive outside your blog. Her page was almost a clone of your own. They liked every post, reblogged, and commented. What more could a writer ask for?

Original characters maybe and not just fantasies of someone who’d never know of her existence. You closed your laptop and sighed. It felt like time. You could feel the block at the back of your head. The little thrill you got was wearing off and it felt like a phase better left to fade with your emo days in high school and that month in university when you dyed your hair purple.

You readied for work. Back on days that week. Opening was always easier. It didn’t feel so drawn out. Nina would be in at one and you’d keep her company until four. It meant little time for writing. Maybe that was for the better. You needed to start planning. For the future. For something truly your own. A fantasy so detached from reality that it would make market and maybe even a dime.

That was your dream. You didn’t want to be the listless fangirl forever. Ugh, how you hated to even call yourself a fangirl. No post today, you resigned. Maybe none tomorrow. You’d have to work up the courage to announce your hiatus. Life was calling and for once a sliver of genuine inspiration. 

And the bookstore. It was Shakespeare’s birthday, which conveniently was also his death day. This meant two for one on all of his works. Nina also  hired actors to stand outside the shop and re-enact famous scene from the playwright’s repertoire. They wouldn’t arrive till noon but you had a lot of set-up to do. Enough to keep you from thinking of the disappointed messages that would fill your inbox.

-

Steve scrolled through the pale pink blog for the dozenth time that morning. It had been two weeks since stevies-doll posted. The longest two weeks of his life. He wasn’t sure when it had become a staple in his life. A ritual almost. He’d read her latest fic as he laid down and try to clear his head of blood and grime. Lose himself in the person she dreamed he was. The man he had come to envy. Fictional but all too real in his head.

But there was nothing. At first he re-read and read again. But that grew old. He knew almost every story by heart at this point. He could recite the intro line to most and he fell asleep as his imagination reconstructed the things he had never done. 

Her banner flashed across his sight when he woke, the image of his blue eyes staring beyond him. He’d come to think of her Steve as an altar ego. The beast buried deep inside of him. He was tired of being the nation’s golden child. Their unwavering moral beacon. He wanted to be him and she had helped him figure out who he truly was.

But she was gone. No green dot above her name in the chat window, her last post dated fourteen days ago, her blog like a time capsule. The ice that had preserved him for seventy years. Where was she?

Then a thought struck him. A devious one. He had been on enough missions to know his way around a computer. He considered himself quite savvy after living nearly a decade ahead of his time. It was simple enough. He tracked down many a drug pin this way and they were often concealed behind walls of encryption. He doubted she had more than a store-bought antivirus, if that.

He climbed out of bed and booted his computer. His leg shook impatiently and he tossed his phone just beneath the corner of the monitor. He rubbed his palms together as the home screen loaded and he clicked on the browser.

Her IP was simple enough to find. Right-click, inspect. When he found it, he felt his heart jump. This was a line. A very clear one. If he did this, there was no going back. He let go of the mouse and leaned his chin in his hands. He stared at her page, split by the window of code, and his jaw ticked.

He hit back and went to the messenger. He clicked on her name and his fingertips ran over the space bar. He didn’t know what to say. He’d send her little asks about her fics but he never messaged her directly. Would she respond?

‘Hey,’ He typed slowly, his fingers sped up with each key, ‘I’m a fan of your work. I think it’s excellent. I just wanted to check in and see if you were still writing for this blog.’

He hit enter and waited. He focused on the grey dot beside her name. If she saw this, it likely wouldn’t be until morning. He checked the time and sighed. It was late. He had an early briefing with Tony and he should try to sleep. 

He hovered the cursor over the x but the dot turned green and he paused. The little ‘...’ blipped in the bottom of the chat box and the ding of her reply was music to his ears.

‘Hey, sorry. I know I’ve been quiet lately. I’ve just been so busy with work. I’m a bit behind at the moment. Thank you though for following me. I always enjoy your comments :)’ He read it several times before he could reply. Before he could even think of the words to.

‘It’s okay. We all have responsibilities. Take your time.’ He wanted to tell her to hurry up but who knew? She might be someone important, like a lawyer or teacher. He could wait. As long as there was hope. 

‘Thanks. I appreciate that. Really.’ That response was quicker. Curt, almost.

‘I don’t want to overstep but are you okay?’ His cheeks were hot.

‘Ah, you know, life.’

He scratched his chin as he leaned back in his chair. Slowly he sat forward and typed. It took him three tries to get it right. Concerned but not pushy. ‘Anything you wanna talk about?’ He waited. The three dots appeared then faded. Several times before her answer blipped up.

‘I don’t wanna trouble you but I appreciate you asking. Nothing I won’t get over.’

‘Ok, no problem. Just know that if you need it, I could listen. It’s could to talk about stress.’ He laughed at himself. He should take his own advice. He had a horrible habit of letting things pile up until he burst at the seams.

‘Thanks again. I’ll ttyl. I gotta get some sleep. Have a good one.’

‘You, too,’ He replied a bit too quickly. ‘Talk to you then.’

-

You were ready to post again. It had been almost a month since your last fic and you had been reluctant to return. You couldn’t help checking in daily to see your notifications and scroll mindlessly through your own content. And your offline writing had come to a halt. You were stuck and you didn’t know how else to cope but fall back on what you knew.

Your new friend had helped too. CapUSA had quickly become a stalwart of your blog. She, or he, you still weren’t sure, spoke to you almost everyday. They encouraged you to try one more fic as you mulled over a certain prompt. Why not? It would be like a writing exercise. Maybe it would help you with your original writing. Take some of the pressure off.

And you didn’t just talk about writing. You talked about the bookstore and Nina’s incessant complaints. You talked about the stresses of your lives. Friends, or lack thereof. Cap seemed a popular person and recounted stories of the latest drama. A close knit group of friends who acted more like adversaries. It was amusing and made your forget that your life was rather empty.

You hit post and smiled. That familiar rush rolled over you and you snapped closed your laptop. You were already dressed and ready for work. You crammed in the quick editing session before the bus was due and now you’d have to run for it.

Back on afternoons. It was rainy and you were soaked by the time you got to the shop. The weather always helped traffic and you ducked behind the counter where Nina was tending to the line with Cara, a new addition. The curly-haired blonde reminded you of old Hollywood. Her high cheekbones and rose lips rivaled Monroe’s.

“Do you want me to start early?” You asked as you tucked your bag under the counter between them.

“You better. I’m gone in ten and Cara’s only on til three.” Nina muttered. “We got a new shipment. Boxes are at the end of the aisles. We’ve not had a chance to touch ‘em.”

“Okay, I’ll get right on it,” You pin your name tag on and stepped back around the counter. She was in one of her moods and all the better that you avoid her until she left. You went to the end of the history aisle and opened the box against the wall.

‘You working?’ The vibration drew your attention from re-arranging the non-fiction section. The message floated in a bubble on your lock screen. You smiled. This faceless stranger felt like more. Of course, virtual friendships were often fleeting.

You glanced down the aisle, both Nina and Cara were squinting at the computer as a customer waited patiently for them to figure out their conundrum. You swiped away the lock and typed swiftly with your phone hidden behind your leg. 

‘Closing. Here all night.’

‘Oh :( you got company at least?’

‘For a couple more hours. But no shortage of work. :/’

‘Damn. Should I leave you alone?’

‘Up to you. My responses might be sporadic. Boss isn’t very pleasant today.’

‘Cool. I just read your new fic.’ 

‘Yeah? Sorry I haven’t checked my notifications just yet.’

‘No problem. I left a comment is all.’

‘What are you up to?’

‘Taking a break from driving. I should actually get back to it. It’s a long trip.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘To see a friend.’

‘Ah, ok. Well, drive safe.’

‘I will ;) See ya later.’

‘ttyl :)’

-

‘Nina’s Nook’. Steve read the crooked moniker several times over. He couldn’t believe he was actually there. That she was inside. He made good time on the road. An eight hour trip in six. Of course, he hadn’t exactly abided the speed limit. His impatience had turned to recklessness. So unlike him.

The sky was dim. The summer nights came later and later. She’d be done in an hour. The streets were dying down and the door hadn’t chimed in almost as long. He felt nervous all of a sudden. He tried to shrug of his anxiety and took a breath. 

She wouldn’t know it was him. Well, she might recognize him but she wouldn’t know he was CapUSA. He couldn’t wait to see her reaction. Steve Rogers in her bookshop. In this town. It would be a story she would recount for the rest of her life. An encounter she would never forget. 

Oh, he’d make sure she remembered it.

He crossed the street. A single car passed as he stepped up on the curb. It was much quieter than New York. No honking, no shouts, no hissing sewers. He liked it. It was quaint. He stood before the door and peeked through the glass. There was no one behind the desk. But the sign read open and the lights shone in welcome.

He pushed down the handle and slowly opened the door. The bell announced his entrance and a small voice called from the corner of the shop. “One moment, please.” He heard the shuffle of books and light footsteps. She emerged from the far shelves and his lips parted at the sight of her.

He had seen her before. Her few photos on Facebook and Instagram. He had found those shortly after he ferreted out her IP. He couldn’t see much but her privacy settings allowed him a glimpse into her real life. Her smile was nicer than in her pictures. 

“Sorry, I was--” She stopped short as she saw him. She blinked. He closed his mouth as hers fell open. Her voice was higher when she spoke next. “I was just sorting some stuff out. I--How can I help you?”

“Um, a friend recommended a book to me and I was passing by, I thought maybe by chance… you might have it.” He kept his voice even. The same one he used for his press conferences.

“Do you have a title?” She asked. He could see her fingers tremble. The guilt as her eyes rounded. She was thinking of all the things she had wrote about him. He was thinking of those too.

“Jeez, you know, I’ve totally forgotten but the author was, uh…” He pretended to think and his eyes drifted down her body. Her flowered blouse was boxy but her pants hugged the curves of her hips and legs. She clasped her hands together and the gesture pushed her chest together between her arms. “Margaret Archer--er, Atwood.”

“Hmm, she’s done a lot. Do you know what it’s about?” She pulled her hands apart and wiped her palms on her dark pants. His eyes followed the movement. He wanted his hands there. Wanted to feel her thighs against him.

“Something about an apocalypse...um, a character named...Snow--Snow something.” He acted like he coudn’t remember. Couldn’t recall that it was stevies-doll who had recommended the very book. 

“Oh, Oryx and Crake, I think it is. It’s an interesting one.” She smiled, proud to have figured out the riddle. “If you will, it should be with our most popular books.”

She hesitated as she passed him. He followed her as she went to the shelf just beside the counter. She hovered her finger before the titles as she read them. She bent as she got lower. He admired her ass as she did. He tucked his hands in his pocket before he could reach out.

“Yeah, I think it’s in sci-fi.” She stood and peeked over her shoulder. “It’s just over here.” She led him down the narrow aisle to the end. “Starts just here so Atwood…” She scanned the shelf, “Here.” She pulled out the book and held it out to him. “We have it in hardcover too.”

He took it and felt the raised letters on the cover. “Thanks.” He didn’t even acknowledge the book in his hand. The aisle was so tight she was trapped between him and the wall. She gave a sheepish smile and he turned to press his back to the shelf. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

She nodded and squeezed past him. Her chest brushed against his torso and she pretended not to notice. Once past him, she cleared her throat. “If you need any help, I’ll be up front.” She turned before he could respond and her watched her go. He never would’ve guessed the mousy shop assistant would have such a lurid imagination.

-

You were in disbelief. It couldn’t be. Steve Rogers in your book shop? No, you were dreaming. Or was it a nightmare? Oh god, why had you written all that stuff? You needed to delete. Now. You could hear him. The floor creaked as he moved slowly down the aisle. You hoped he would’ve taken the book and gone. The longer he stayed, the worse you felt. Your cheeks were on fire.

Your phone vibrated. You swiped the screen and found a new message from CapUSA. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. You should just pretend you didn’t see it. You unlocked the phone and read the message.

‘Hey, how’s work?’

‘It’s fine.’ You answered. What could you say? Who would believe that Steve Rogers had walked in your door?

‘I just was thinking about your last fic.’

‘Oh yeah?’ You peeked over at the far aisle. The floor no longer whined with his weight.

‘Yeah, I’d love to re-enact the last scene.’

‘Sorry?’ You sent the message and it went unanswered. ‘I don’t get it. What do you mean?’

‘The one with the girl on her knees. Begging to be fucked.’

‘Okay? I still don’t understand.’ Your heart jumped. This was really weird.

‘Or maybe and I could fuck you on that counter you’re standing behind.’

You hit close and locked the phone. You dropped it and looked around the shop. You rushed out from behind the counter and glanced out the window. You turned the latch and the floorboards groaned. You turned and pressed yourself to the door. You forgot he was there. 

How could you forget something like that?

“Sorry, uh, we’re closing up,” You felt around for the lock, “I was just--”

“That’s okay. I think I’m just about done.” He slapped the book against his palm and placed it on the corner of the counter. He set his phone on top of it with a flourish. “Why don’t you flip the sign and we can get started.”

“What are you--”

“Do you prefer I call you by your real name or stevies-doll?” He leaned against the counter and smirked. “Or I can just call you doll. I know you like that.”

“No,” You exhaled shakily, “Y-you can’t be…”

“You’re not happy to see me?” He asked. He didn’t sound like the hero you saw on the news. Barely looked like him now. His pupils dilated to darken his blue eyes and the shadows of the shop cast his face in sinister tones. “You can call me Stevie if you like.”

“I...What I wrote, it was just...” You spluttered. “I’m s-sorry.”

“You don’t have to be.” He pushed himself away from the counter. “I’m not mad. Intrigued really.”

He stepped closer and your ears pounded as the adrenaline coursed through your veins. You turned and fumbled with the lock. The door opened an inch before his hand slammed it shut again. He easily flipped the lock back into place and spun the sign with a flick of his thumb. 

“You can close early and we can have some fun...maybe inspire a new fic.” His arm was around your waist and you grabbed onto his thick wrist.

“They’re just stories.” You kicked as he pulled you away from the door. He tugged the blind down over the window. “Stupid fantasies.”

“Well, consider this a dream come true, doll,” He spun and let you go. You collided with the desk and gasped as the air was knocked from your lungs. “I think you remember this scene.”

“What do you want?” You clung to the desk as you turned to him. 

“You know, I’m everything people think I am. Straight-laced, valiant, boring.” He planted his feet and stared you down. “Or was...until I found your blog.” His tongue ran across his bottom lip. “It gets lonely on the road. At first, your blog was like a secret companion. It gave me something to look forward to but then it made me think. So many things I never even knew I was missing out on.”

“Please, I don’t know what you want from me,” Your voice cracked. Your fear surged and left you shaking against the counter.

“I want…” He tilted his head and his eyes flashed, “You.” He paused and pushed his shoulders back. “On your knees.” Your eyes rounded, “Oh yes,” He raised a finger, “Naked.”

You stared at him. You were frozen in place. The counter your only support from melting into a puddle. His nostrils flared as he exhaled; long and drawn out. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” He snarled and his hand balled into a fist.

You gulped and held yourself with one hand against the counter as you bent to unlace your oxfords. You kicked them off with your socks and mustered your strength. You stood on your own and unbuttoned your shirt. You kept your eyes on the aged carpet stretched across the hardwood.

You dropped the blouse onto your shoes and unzipped your fly. The wool trousers slid halfway down without help and you untangled your legs from them. You added them to the heap and stood straight.

“Look at me,” Steve ordered. Your eyes snapped over to him. “Good.” You reached back and he raised a hand. “Stop...I wanna do it.”

He waved you forward and slowly you stepped away from the counter. He bared his palm in a gesture for you to halt and you hung your head. “Eyes up.” He corrected as he came closer. He walked around you and stopped just behind you.

His thick fingers touched the band of your bra and ran along it until they met at the hooks. He carefully unclasped it and the cups fell loose. He tickled your arms as he pushed the straps down them. He took it and flung it away from him. His hands came up to cup your tits and he pushed himself flush to your back.

“You always wrote so vividly of me but...I never knew how beautiful you truly were...how good you feel.” He squeezed and slowly lowered his hands. He dragged them to the side of your panties and slipped his fingers beneath the elastic. He bent as he guided the panties down your legs. “God, that ass.”

You shivered and his hands cradled your ass. He ran his rough palms along your cheeks and up your back. They settled on your shoulders and he pushed down firmly. “On your knees.”

He stepped back and you unsteadily got to your knees. He walked another circle around you. You could hear his dusky breaths. Glimpsed how his hand ran over the front of his jeans. 

“Now ask, like a good girl,” He stopped before you and stared down with a smirk. “Go on, doll, I know you want it.”

You closed your eyes and swallowed. You grit your teeth and gather what was left of your wits. A story. That’s all this was. The letters could be backspaced and no one would know better of it. 

“Please,” You recalled the last scene you had posted. The tingle which had flowed through you as you hit the button. What had she said? You opened your eyes. “Please, I want to...I want to make you happy.” You shuddered as the words whisked from you. “Can I?”

“Can you...what?” He taunted.

“Can I suck your dick?” It was barely a whisper. 

“Oh, well, since you asked so nicely,” His hands were on his belt as he spoke. “But I have a different scene in mind for tonight. A new one.” He unbuckled his belt and cracked his neck. “I want you on the counter. On your back.”

You made to stand and his hand went to your head. He held you down. 

“Crawl.”

You weakly dropped forward and turned. You crawled on hands and knees as he followed, stopping just in front of the desk as you followed his pointed finger to the other side. You stood and lifted yourself onto the counter and laid on your back. He guided your head over the side as he pulled you close and his hands found your tits again. He tweaked your hard nipples and you bit your lip.

He rescinded his hands and finished unzipping his pants. You tried not to watch as he pushed his pants down, his briefs too. The blur focused and you gaped at the size of him. He gripped himself and you snapped your mouth shut. He grabbed your chin and squeezed.

“Now, now, don’t act like this isn’t what you wanted,” He pressed his cock to your mouth and you were forced to open as his fingers threatened to crush your jaw.

He slid inside and your gasp was stifled as he met the back of your throat. He forced himself further and you threw your arms out. A clatter of books and papers as you swept them off the counter. He lingered at his limit and wiggled his hips. You arched your back as you choked and he grabbed your tit, kneading it as he slowly pulled out.

He pushed back in just as you gulped down air and you writhed atop the desk. He thrust in and out of your mouth. You gagged and groaned. The noises only fueled his fervour and he sunk in over and over until your head pulsed. The spit smeared around your lips and his balls.

He pulled back and slammed back in suddenly. His motion slowed as he came. He grunted, his breaths stuttered by the staggered rock of his pelvis. You clawed at the counter top and kicked until you could breathe again.

He slipped his cock from between your lips and his cum leaked from your mouth. You sat up and coughed. His hands were on your shoulders again. His fingers danced along your throat as if to ease your struggles.

“Come on, that’s just the first act,” He drew away and you glanced over your shoulder. “Turn around.” 

You turned on the desk and he pulled your legs over the edge. He pushed your knees apart and stepped back to admire the view. You dug your nails into the lip of the counter to keep yourself from closing your legs.

“I know you’ve been dying to see this,” He grinned and pulled his shirt over his head. 

His cock hung out of his pants. It twitched as he tossed his shirt at you. You caught it. It smelled like him. He shoved his pants down without pause and he hardened again. You dropped his shirt and looked away guiltily. 

Had you not written this scene a dozen times over?

He was completely naked when you looked again. He came close, his hands on your knees as he knelt before you. You tried to pull your legs together but he held them apart. He shook his head and tutted. 

“Just sit back and enjoy,” He licked his lips. “Trust me, it’s better than you could ever imagine.”

Your shock took over completely. You watched as he bowed his head and you felt his hot breath on your thighs. When his tongue met your pussy you gasped. He delved between your folds and swirled around your clit. Your nails went deeper into the wood and your thighs shook. It felt good. It shouldn’t, though.

He buried his face deeper and you watched his golden locks from above. He reached over blindly, his large hand found yours, and he guided it to the back of his head. He held it there a moment before letting go. You clung to him as he hands glided up your thighs and he framed your vee with thumb and index.

You arched your back and moaned. It was your declaration of surrender. You couldn’t resist it any longer. The heat stirred inside of you, the flames licking at your thighs and back. You urged Steve closer though he couldn’t possibly go any deeper. 

His hands slipped down to the outside of your thighs. Your legs closed around his head and held him there. He tipped you slightly and you curled around him as he continued to lap. Your breaths mixed with throaty hums and you fell back. 

You had one hand still on his head and the other in your hair as you cried out in a mighty climax. He didn’t stop until you were shaking across the counter. When at last his mouth left you, you shivered. A sudden coolness washed over your body. He stood and you looked at him through the haze.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you to your feet. You wavered and he spun you quickly. You caught yourself on the desk and he slapped your ass. “That’s it,” He purred. “You’re getting it now.”

He nudged your shoulder until you were bent entirely over the counter, your toes barely met the floor. He rubbed your ass and pulled your cheeks apart. His cock poked you as his hand slipped lower and he tickled just below your ass. You squirmed and he chuckled.

He felt around and his cock slipped lower as he bent his knees. He dragged his tip along your folds before prodding at your entrance. He shoved his hand between your legs and forced them apart. 

He pushed inside and slowly stretched you around him. Your head shot up at the strain. A mix of pain and pleasure as he got deeper and deeper.

You whined as he bottomed out and his hips bucked almost instinctively. He hit your cervix and you cried out. He eased out and pushed back in. He repeated this again and again, his motion careful. Deliberate. He brought his pelvis flush to your ass and groaned.

“Fuck,” He slapped your ass again. 

He drew back and slammed into you all at once. All restraint was lost and he thrust mercilessly. His pace was wild. You reached out to grab at the edge of the counter, your hips hitting the other painfully. The spark had caught and you felt the flame about to burst. 

Your orgasm was surprising. More agony than pleasure. You whimpered and pushed your head into the counter as you heaved. You could barely breath as Steve never wavered. He fucked until you until your walls ached. Until they turned numb and you were nothing but a mewling fool before him.

He bent over your, his muscled torso against your sweaty back. He rutted atop you frantically. His hips jerked as his grunts deepened. His breath caught and he swore. He lifted himself off you and you felt the warmth spill down your ass and thigh. 

You laid breathless as he panted behind you. He rubbed his cum into your skin with two fingers and you shook. You tried to push yourself up from the desk. He caught your hip and shoved you back down.

“Oh, we’re not even close to the finale,” He pinched your ass and you squeaked. “Not to mention the epilogue.”

-

tags to be added in reblog

[cherryeol04]

Jolly Chaos

Genre: Humor, fluff, stupidity? Pairing: JacksonxOC, ChangbinxAidenxFelix Word Count: 2.9K Summary: While getting presents for Aiden’s boyfriend, Sabrina and Aiden get snowed in at the mall. At least there are some hot guys to occupy her time with. A/N: This is a crappy summary and doesn’t even begin to describe this story. lmao. I’m sorry.

“Stay indoors because a snowstorm is projected to hit the city by 4pm. You do not want to be out when it hits.”

The audio from the TV served as white noise as the two bodies in the house moved in sync within the kitchen. A balancing act of dancing around each other as they worked on their baked goods.  Sabrina had only wanted to make cookies, but Aiden has insisted that they also make cupcakes because “icing them is fun”. What wasn’t fun, however, was the clean up at the end. And if there was one thing Sabrina had learned in her years of babysitting the Park son, it was that he didn’t clean up after himself. Somehow, he always managed to weasel his way out of cleaning duties. Aiden truly was an amazing kid.

“Six minutes until the cookies are done!” Sabrina called out as she dumped the mixing bowls into the sink to be cleaned later. Her gaze turned to Aiden who was hunched over his tray of cupcakes, a look of concentration creasing his brows - tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. It was actually kind of cute, the way he carefully moved his hand in a circle, creating the perfect icing swirl. He was oblivious to what she had just said, lost in his own world of decorating. It was picturesque, so Sabrina pulled out her phone and opened her camera, quickly snapping a few pictures of Aiden for “memories sake (read: blackmail)”.

Despite the camera noises and flash, the younger male remained unbothered. So Sabrina took the time to send the pictures to two different group chats. The first was with Aiden and his parents and she figured that they would appreciate some cute pictures of their son not causing trouble for once. The second group chat was one with a mixture of her friends and Aiden’s friends, which also included Aiden’s two boyfriends. In this chat, she only sent one of the pictures - the decent looking one, after all, she needed to keep at least one picture for blackmailing purposes. Glancing to the clock, Sabrina hummed and made her way back to the over to the oven to check on her cookies. A comfortable silence fell over them once more, broken only when Aiden finished his decorating and Sabrina had plated her 24 count tray of cookies.

“They look burnt.” Aiden complained and his nose scrunched up.

“You look burnt.” Sabrina retorted.

“That doesn’t make sense!” Aiden huffed with a shake of his head. “They smell good though. Good job.” A compliment in a way and it was certainly more than what Sabrina thought she was going to get. Not that Aiden was a rude or misbehaving teen. On the contrary, he was a well mannered and sweet young man. He honestly didn’t need a babysitter at his ripe old age of 17, but Aiden did have a tendency to be a bit dense and clumsy at times. If not for his last attempt of cooking unsupervised that led to the kitchen nearly burnt to the ground, his parents wouldn’t have insisted on having someone to watch him. But it couldn’t be helped and it was better to have someone with better common sense around to make sure Aiden didn’t accidentally burn or destroy something in the house. Sans his friends because they just couldn’t be trusted. Sabrina didn’t mind though, Aiden was like a little brother to her and hey, she also got free food. It was a win-win situation.

“Thanks, Aiden.” It was a soft return of gratitude to the praise she had received, followed with a gentle smile that was returned wholeheartedly and reminded Sabrina of the sun. What a precious guy.

“Hey Bri, do you think we can hit the mall?”

Sabrina raised a brow at the question, shoulders raising too. “I mean we could, but it might hurt.”

Aiden groaned at the poorly made joke, eyes rolling in exasperation. “That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

Sabrina couldn’t suppress the giggle that bubbled up in her chest, one hand raising to cover her mouth as she tried to keep from snorting. After calming herself, she cleared her throat and nodded. “Sure. Let’s clean up-”

“We can clean later.” Aiden whined, a pout on his lips. “I want to get to the mall before it closes.”

“Why?” Sabrina asked.

“I - uh - need to get gifts...for my boyfriends,” Aiden said shyly, head bowed in embarrassment as he fiddled with the hem of his shirt. It was really cute, but everything about Aiden was cute and Sabrina could understand how he managed to get two boyfriends.

“You haven’t gotten them a gift yet? Christmas is next week!”

“I know! I’ve just been so busy with exams and homework. I barely have the time to see them, let alone have time to go Christmas shopping. Doesn’t help they go to a different school.” Aiden pouted, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

“So, what you’re saying is that if I take you to the mall, I would be helping your relationship?” she asked, a smirk playing on her lips.  “Little Aiden will be a good boyfriend then, making his boyfriends happy?” she teased, relishing in the whine that he let out in embarrassment. “Alright, we can go, but on one condition.”

“Name it.” Aiden agreed quickly. A little too quickly, which made Sabrina happy.

“You do all the dishes when we get back, by yourself.” Sabrina laughed as Adien’s mouth dropped and she could see he was getting ready to protest, but never uttered a word. Instead, he simply closed his mouth and nodded, resigned to his fate. The things he did for Felix and Changbin.

“Okay.”

“Perfect! Let’s go then!” Sabrina cheered and headed out of the kitchen and to the front door. Free of cleaning duty, she was more than excited to go shopping now.

~*~*~*~

The relief that came when Sabrina finally parked was more than welcomed with Aiden thanking all the Gods he knew in a rush of muttered praises, surprised that they hadn’t crashed or ran anyone over. Sabrina was actually surprised she managed to keep her road rage in check and didn’t hit anyone. Though she really had wanted to run one woman over in particular. She had just decided to walk out in front of her car, without even checking to make sure the coast was clear.

Stupid Karen.

Aiden practically sprinted to the main entrance of the mall, leaving Sabrina to fumble with her keys to get the car locked. With the click of the doors, Sabrina ran after Aiden, chasing the bratty teenager through the food court and down the leftwing - barely dodging the unsuspecting patrons milling about. “Aiden! Slow down! You’re gonna run into-” The world rushed around her, yet all she could focus on was her heavy breathing and the feeling of arms around her waist. Looking up, her eyes locked with a pair of chocolate brown orbs, brows creased with concern.

“Are you alright?”

Gathering her bearings, Sabrina straightened herself as she slowly left the man’s embrace with a nod. “I’m fine. I’m so sorry about that.” she apologized, bowing to the other. She felt absolutely terrible about running into the man. And she certainly wasn’t being a good role model for Aiden.

“It’s okay. As long as you’re not hurt.”  He was being too kind, which only deepened Sabrina’s guilt. She had expected him to yell and blame her for being careless, which was true. But instead, he was worried about her. A complete stranger! She would be lying if she said that it didn’t make her heart flutter a little.

“No, it’s not. I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing or where I was going. I’m so sorry.” She protested, once more bowing to the man, a little deeper than last time.

“It’s fine, really.” the guy laughed, his whole face a light with a bright smile. It was stunning and took Sabrina’s breath away. “Just be more careful, okay?” he asked and she gave him a tentative nod. It seemed to satisfy him and with one last smile, he walked off.

The encounter was strange, but by the time Sabrina found Aiden again, it had completely escaped her memory. The younger male was in the bookstore, browsing through the shelves stacked with cards and board games. He had three games already in his hands, eyes reading over the back of another game that was sitting on the shelf. “What did you find?” she asked, moving to stand beside him. He jumped, struggling to hold onto the games as he glared at Sabrina.

“You just gave me a heart attack! Jesus!” he whined, trying to keep his voice so he didn’t disturb any of the other shoppers, but that was a struggle for him. Aiden was not at all a quiet boy.

“Sorry.”  She wasn’t at all sorry, giving a shrug before taking one of the card decks from Aiden’s hand. “Cards Against Humanity?”

“Yeah. Normally I play with Felix and Changbin online. It has a larger and better selection of card decks. But there have been times we’ve wanted to play while together, but we didn’t have 3 computers and using our phones sucked.” Aiden explained, pouting at the memories.

“So you’re going to give your boyfriends a card game?” Sabrina raised a brow as she stared at Aiden, watching him squirm under her gaze.

“Yeah, why not?”

“Why not? Because that’s such a sucky gift! You should be getting them something romantic or something.” she huffed out.

“Romantic? Like what?”

“I don’t know, google it. Romantic gifts to give your boyfriend. I mean, you could even give them headphones. Something other than a card game.” she said, taking the games from Aiden’s grasp and placing them back on the shelf. “What do they like? Give them a gift to complement their personalities or something they really have been asking for.”

Silence fell over the two as Aiden stared at the floor, brows knitted together. Sabrina was worried that maybe she had been a little too harsh and critical on Aiden for his gift choices. Honestly, who was she to even protest as she had? They weren’t her boyfriends. But she did remember all the drama and angst Aiden went through to even get to the current point he was at with his boyfriends. She really just wanted to make sure his Christmas with his boyfriends was as sweet and romantic as it could get. He deserved it.

“Aiden-”

“Bri-”

They stared at each other, waiting for the other to talk. When neither of them made a move, Aiden let out a heavy sigh. “Bri, I need help. I don’t know what to do or get them. They’re just so…” Aiden trailed off and let out a frustrated sigh, pushing a hand through his hair. “What do you get someone who is so perfect and has everything they could ever want?” he asked. The sheer desperation that was shining in his eyes had Sabrina’s heartbreaking and she wanted nothing more than to pull Aiden into a hug and protect him from the world. But maybe it was that protection that left him so clueless.

“Maybe they don’t need trivial items?” Sabrina suggested, an idea coming to her.

“What do you mean?”

“Instead of spending your money on a card game or something else they’ve probably received a dozen times, maybe you could make them something?” Sabrina suggested with a gentle smile. “You know? A handmade gift always means more than a store-bought one.”

“Make something? I’m not at all creative, what could I possibly make them?” Aiden pouted, staring off to the side, racking his brain for ideas.

“Aiden, you’re going to school for the performing arts. You make music for your classes. You’re very much creative.” she assured as she reached out and patted his head. “You don’t need to do anything grand like writing them a song or anything. Just something heartfelt.” She felt like she was talking to a child, who didn’t have the cognitive capabilities to understand what she was saying. It really saddened her, but he was managing on his own.

“Like a card? Or a letter?” Aiden asked. Sabrina nodded with a gentle smile.

“Yeah! Come on, let’s go check out the stationery section. We can get some cute paper, colored pens, and washi tape. Maybe we can find some other things we can add.” Taking his hand, Sabrina led him from the games and across the store to browse for the items they needed.

“Thanks, Bri, you’re the best.”

~*~*~*~

It didn’t feel like it was that late in the day, but by the time Sabrina and Aiden finished their shopping, the store was almost completely empty. It was odd, especially considering the fact it was only 3 pm, long before the mall was supposed to close even with the holiday hours. Nonetheless, the two made their way to the front entrance and were greeted by the largest and thickest blanket of snow, falling from the sky.

“Oh, crap.” Sabrina whispered.

“Oh, crap indeed.” A voice from behind her agreed and she turned around, staring at the group of males behind her. One of whom she recognized almost instantly as the handsome stranger she had run into earlier that afternoon. “The news said it wouldn’t hit until later.” he complained.

“Looks like the weatherman might have been drunk again.” Another male spoke up from next to Mr. Handsome. The group was composed of five guys, all very good looking and for a moment, Sabrina questioned what she did in her past life to be surrounded by such handsome men.

“Lix? Binne?” Aiden asked, brows furrowed as he stared at the group. “Jinnie?” All those names sounded familiar from the countless tales Aiden would recount when Sabrina would come over to hang out with him. And suddenly, Sabrina didn’t feel so blessed because at least three of the five good looking guys were a couple of years younger than her.

“Aiden! What a small world.” Hyunjin cheered as he walked over and pulled Aiden into a tight hug. Aiden smiled, returning the hug before pulling back shortly after to move to Felix and Changbin, giving them each a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m here Christmas shopping with my-” He stopped himself, cheeks flushing as he looked to Sabrina who was smirking.

“You’re what?” Felix prompted.

“His babysitter.” Sabrina grinned, winking at the whining boy who was trying to hide behind his two boyfriends. “I’m Sabrina or Bri for short.”

“Nice to meet you, Sabrina. It sure is a small world, we’re babysitting too. I’m Jinyoung and this is Jackson.”

“We’ve met.” Jackson chuckled and Sabrina could feel herself blushing.

“Again, I’m so sorry. I was chasing after that one.” she said as she pointed to Aiden.

“Hey! I was just excited!” Aiden pouted.

“I said it was alright. Stop apologizing.” Jackson assured her with a soft laugh, flashing her such a sweet smile that it only seemed to enhance his handsome features and Sabrina found herself wanting to see more of that smile.

Was there a formation of a crush happening? There sure was.

“Okay.” The reply was soft and she wasn’t sure if they had actually heard her or not. It didn’t matter though and she turned her attention back outside. It honestly shocked her at how quickly the storm had rolled in and covered the ground with such a thick layer of snow. They weren't even at the mall that long! Her eyes scanned the gray sky, slowly darkening further as the clouds slowly moved. It was only going to get worse, she could tell.

“Looks like we’re stuck. At least until the storm passes.” Jinyoung mused.

“Who knows how long that’ll be.” Sabrina commented and turned around. There were a few groups of other people milling about the mall entrance. All stuck just like them. Well, at least they still had power.

They spent the next five hours waiting within the mall. The food court employees that were left fired up the grills and made meals for those stuck there. Sabrina spent her time getting to know Jackson and Jinyoung, swapping stories about Aiden, Felix, and Changbin. Most were absolutely hilarious and Sabrina was very glad that she wasn’t the only one who was witness to Aiden’s stupid moments. It was around 8 pm when rescue workers were finally able to clear a path to the doors of the mall and another hour before roads were cleared enough for everyone to head home. Though Sabrina was ready to go home, she didn’t really want her time with Jackson to end. The older male (as she found out) was very funny and she wanted to get to know him even more. But Aiden was tired and getting cranky, so being the good babysitter she was, she took him home. And as they were warming up and cleaning up the kitchen, Aiden handed her a piece of paper.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Jackson’s number. He said to call him whenever.” Aiden shrugged before disappearing out of the kitchen, leaving Sabrina to clean alone. She couldn’t even bring herself to care either, eager to finish and call Jackson. Maybe this Christmas she won’t be lonely.

Tags: @cuddly-bangchan​ @lordseochangbin​ @channiesmixtape​​ @starryseung​​ @felixsanxchatbot​​ @jisungsjheekies​​

[lovelyjunho]

like always | part one

“hey ara, your shift ended like five minutes ago. why are you still here?” jieun, my co-worker asked as she set a couple more books out on display in the small shop we worked at. “oh I didn’t even realize that, sorry” I said zoning back into reality. “no need to be sorry hun, I’ll close up don’t worry, go~” she said smiling, “thanks jieun” I said smiling before punching my work ticket and walking out of the shop. the streets of seoul were quite busy. people rushing around, buying last minute things or just window shopping. it was a monday; the most dreaded day of the week, for me at least. I browsed the windows of some art shops along the strip, looking for some inspiration. after walking down the road for a bit, I went down to the subway and headed home. it was crowded in the terminal as always and it wasn’t any better inside the cars. while I was standing on the car, hand holding onto the bar I noticed a text pop up on my phone. it was from a number I didn’t know though, maybe the wrong person. I read over the text and realized that it was for me.

[txt] unknown number: hey is this jeon ara?

I hesitated to open the text for a couple seconds, but ultimately opened the text and replied

[txt] ara: yes and who are you?

[txt] unknown number: oh thank goodness! oh and it’s seungwoo remember me?

I thought back to the name and could only remember one person: han seungwoo. he was a friend of mine back when I was in high school, actually he was a friend of my friend. he was tall, handsome and so very kind. he was like the dad of our group of friends. I wonder why he would be texting me after all these years.

[txt] ara: han seungwoo? of course I remember you!

[txt] seungwoo: I’m glad you do, anyways I was wondering if you were available to just reconnect with all the guys on wednesday? it’s just a casual dinner out.

[txt] ara: I don’t think I have anything going on, I’d love to

[txt] seungwoo: great I’ll text u the exact details later

[txt] ara: okay talk to you soon

hmm, why is he deciding now to reconnect the group?

————

“hey ara, byeonghee’s school just called and said he isn’t feeling well, do you mind if I cut the day short?” jieun asked as she walked out of the small office behind the counter. “no not at all, it’s my turn to close shop anyways. tell him I hope he feels better” I said smiling as I stocked a few more books on the shelves. “okay thank you, I’ll be sure to tell him.” she said smiling. she walked out of the small shop and I was left alone. after stocking the books I walked back to the desk and I pulled out the book I was currently reading. I sat on the stool that stood behind the desk and zoned out again. a few minutes after the bell above the door chimed, signalling that someone came into the store. I looked up and put my book away. the young man who came into the store looked terribly familiar but I couldn’t put a name to his face. it wasn’t til he asked me a question that I finally figured it out, “um excuse me but do you have any music literature books?”. nam dohyun, my best friend since we were babies. wow, I haven’t seen him in years, he’s even more handsome than he was back then. “ah yeah there right over here” I said walking over to the wall shelves that had tens of books per shelf, “ah thank you” he said bowing slightly. i copied his action and walked back to the front desk, he is still so polite. after a few more minutes he walked over to the desk with three books in hand. “found the ones you were looking for?” I asked as I scanned the books, “yeah” he replied. as I waited for the receipt to be printed I decided to say something. “I never did expect to see nam dohyun in a bookstore, voluntarily” I said with a little chuckle. I looked up and saw a smile across his face, “I knew it was you!” he exclaimed, I hate to admit it but my heart fluttered hearing he still remembered me all these years. “then why didn’t you say anything?” I asked, “I just didn’t want to make a fool out of myself if it wasn’t you” he said. “well how’ve you been? it’s been years since I last saw you” I said. “I’ve been good, got into university and I have a job as a piano teacher at a music store not too far away from here. what about you?” he asked. “I’ve been good too. I also got into uni, but I already graduated and as you can see I work here in a bookstore” I said causing him to softly chuckle at the last part. “oh are you still close to hangyul and seungyoun oppa?” I asked, curious if the trio stayed together after high school ended. “yeah, we hangout all the time! I mostly have to take care of hangyuie hyung’s daughter and seungyounie hyung’s daughter a lot.” he explained, “oh my god hangyul and seungyoun oppa have daughters?!” I asked shocked by the realization that they’re already fathers. “yeah, hangyul hyung has a daughter named jiwoo who’s 2 and seungyoun hyung has a daughter named haneul who’s 5” dohyun explained, “wow, time sure has flown by” I said. “well I have my next class soon, do you want to swap numbers?” he asked sheepishly, “uh yeah sure” I replied passing him my phone unlocked as he passed his to me. we put our numbers into each other’s phones and then handed them back to one another. “oh and did seungwoo hyung text you about getting everyone back together?” he asked, “yeah did he text you too?” I replied. “yup, do you maybe want to go together?” he asked scratching the back of his neck. I looked down as I felt my cheeks heat up, what is happening to me?? I looked up and smiled, “I’d love to”. “okay, wanna meet up at the cafe on the corner?” he asked, “sounds great” I replied. after that dohyun left the small shop and my mind flooded itself with memories of the boy.

—— 9 years old

“ara! come with me!” dohyun exclaimed grabbing my hand and pulling me into the music room. he lead me to the piano and sat down beside me. “I wrote a new piece” he smiled at me before he began playing. I listened to the beautiful sounding song as I rested my head on his shoulder. once he finished playing he turned to look at me, “it’s very beautiful dohyunie” I said look up at him. he flashed his signature smile, “you are such a child” I laughed.

—— 15 years old

“dohyun?” I asked as my head rested on his chest while we watched the meteor shower from my backyard. he hummed in response, “do you think we’ll still be best friends in 7 years?” I asked as I played with his hand that rested on my stomach. “of course we will be, i bet we’ll be best friends for another hundred years” he answered.

oh how I wish it lasted 100 years..

description, part one, part two

[hookedontaronfics]

Aber Girl series - Saturday

Title: Aber Girl - Saturday Part 2 of 3. Find Friday’s adventure HERE. Rating: T Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: Cursing and alcohol use A/N: Some confessions force Morgan to reevaluate her own memories as well as beliefs she has long held onto. Could giving one chance to Taron really be so bad? A Triple Shot [3-part] series. Plenty of cute fluffy Taron to come in Part 3. I hope you enjoy! x

I woke up to my alarm going off and my arm on absolute fire. The painkillers I’d been given at the hospital had long worn off, and I still needed to pick up my prescription at the pharmacy before my shift. I could already feel that this was going to be a long day as I tried to rub the sleep out of my eyes. 

The events of the day before still lingered in my mind, and I tried not to dwell too much on Taron’s face, but for some reason found it difficult to do. His stupid, pretty face. I didn’t remember when he’d gotten so handsome, and I immediately banished that thought from my mind. It’d do me no good to think that way.

I stood up and shuffled across the floor, the cold seeping through my feet and making me shiver. I managed to get out of my pajamas and maneuver a clean shirt on around the cast, wincing slightly when the fabric brushed over my hand. I hadn’t counted on how difficult it would be to get myself into my jeans one-handed, and I ended up tipping over onto the floor with a shriek. I instantly heard footsteps running up the stairs and realized my bum was still hanging out in the air, clad only in my underwear. “I’m fine! Don’t open the -” I tried to say but my father swung it open anyway.

“Morgan, are you, oh… oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he said, turning a bright shade of red at my predicament. He instantly stepped backward and around the doorframe, but I could hear him standing there still, panting a bit because he was out of shape.

“Oh my god,” I agreed.

“Well, to be fair, nothing I haven’t seen before. I used to give you baths as a kid, you know,” he said awkwardly.

“Dad!” I yelled, absolutely mortified. I groaned, pushing myself upright and wriggling my pants on the rest of the way. I cursed a few times while I wrestled to get the button clasped.

“Language, dear,” my father reminded me, before peeking in again. “What in the world happened there?” he asked, concerned as I adjusted the sling around my body and settled my arm in it.

“Work accident,” I sighed.

“Honey, why didn’t you call your mom and me?”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” I said, biting the inside of my cheek against the swell of pain that nearly made me gasp out.

“You didn’t walk to the hospital, did you?” he asked, stepping into my room again and pulling me into a careful hug, sweetly patting my hair like I was five years old again.

“No, I got a ride from-” I stopped myself, but my dad didn’t seem to notice.

“We would have come and gotten you,” he said as I extricated myself from his hug.

“I know, and I appreciate it, but I’m really running behind already and I don’t want to be late, so can we talk about this later?” I asked, shooing him out of the room.

“Sure, dear, your mum’s got breakfast ready downstairs,” he smiled at me, and I nodded my thanks as I headed to the bathroom to finish getting ready. I swallowed a couple over-the-counter ibuprofen, hoping it would take the edge off, and did my best to not jostle my arm too much.

I wisely chose a heavy wool peacoat this time, something I could manage to button on my own, if a little clumsily. As I hurried down the stairs, I nearly caught my purse strap on the edge of the banister in my haste. The last thing I needed to do was tumble down the stairs and break my other arm. I had that kind of talent for tripping over air, it seemed.

As soon as I breezed into the kitchen, my mom tried to worry over me too. I appreciated my parents’ concern, but I really did need to get to my job, a job I would probably be late for now. I likely had a good excuse with my arm in a cast, though; you had to use any advantage you could. “Love you guys, got to go!” I called, grabbing a buttered crumpet off the plate and stuffing it in my mouth as I let myself out of the house, the door slamming behind me.

Despite the sun shining fully that morning, a blast of cold air still greeted me and I pulled my coat collar up against the wind. Aber winters always made me wish I had my own car, but between student loan payments and saving to get my own apartment, I didn’t have any cash to spare. I hurried into town, finishing the crumpet and stopping at the pharmacy to pick up my medicine. I nearly cried at the price of the pills, but I needed them so I handed over my credit card. This was going to set me way back, I thought.

I was grateful when I finally turned the corner to the bookstore, rushing inside for the warmth and taking a moment to breathe in the scent of books as I always did before going to find my boss.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said, knocking on the open office door. 

“Couldn’t have texted me first?” my boss asked, entering some numbers before looking up from the computer. I dumped my coat off on the rack and sighed as she did a double-take over my cast.

“Had a minor mishap at work yesterday,” I said, as she quickly gestured to the other chair for me to sit.

“We’ll have to fill out an incident report then,” she said, and I groaned inwardly until she informed me my medical bills might be covered since it happened at work. I gave her the basic details of what happened but had to pause when she asked me if I knew who the customer was; Aber was a fairly small place and you got to know your neighbors if you lived there long enough.

The silence stretched out between us as she waited for me to answer. “It was … Taron Egerton,” I replied, a bit painfully. “He’s been visiting home again, I guess,” I added, biting my thumb while my boss did what most people usually do at the mention of his name - She grew flustered about the fact that he’d even been in our store and tried to pry details out of me that I couldn’t supply.

“I don’t know what he was here to get, I was busy doing my job,” I said in a huff. It was embarrassing, really, watching a 50-something-year-old woman get beside herself over him. 

We finally wrapped up in the office, got the store open and I went about my day, trying to put Taron out of my mind. Saturdays in Aber were typically busy for most retail businesses along the strip, and I enjoyed having a laugh with my co-workers who were also on my shift. Between helping customers, we’d come up with a game where everyone tried to spin the most ridiculous tale as to the cause of my accident, and we were in fits when Andreyah bounced through the door, the sun making her auburn hair glow brightly.

“Special delivery!” she grinned at me, handing me a cup of coffee, knowing my order by heart.

“Oh my god, I love you a latte,” I deadpanned, and Andreyah shoved me playfully in my good arm.

“You and your puns,” she groaned, as I breathed in the rich aroma of my drink.

“I know, it’s great right?” I giggled.

“Yeah, don’t quit your day job,” she grinned, leaning casually against the counter while I rang up a customer as best I could with one arm. Everyone so far had been patient, and I was grateful for it. I handed the customer, who was rather cute, his bag and gave him a cheerful good-bye, watching him walk toward the door. Andreyah caught my gaze and snickered at me. What? I mouthed to her as the good-looking man pushed his way out the door, just as an all-too-familiar face came in.

“Oh god, no,” I said, instantly crouching down behind the counter and upsetting a display of bookmarks in the process.

“Morgan!” Andreyah hiss-laughed, unable to contain herself as Taron strode in, having seen me despite my best efforts. He walked up to the counter and peered over it at me, his green eyes taking in my awkward position.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my tone probably on the far side of rude.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright,” he said, and I wanted to hate him for being a such a damn gentleman. 

“I survived,” I snapped, and he looked deflated at my tone. I stood up and we stared at each other for a moment before he cleared his throat and I looked away.

“Also, I never bought what I came here to get last night. I was wondering if you could help?” he pressed on. Andreyah made an “ooh” noise and wandered off to browse, leaving me with Taron. It was going to take me a while to forgive her for that.

“I can’t, I’m busy,” I said, righting the display and starting to pick the bookmarks up off the counter.

“Morgan,” he said, placing a hand on mine. Perhaps it had been an impulse on his part, but it both angered and thrilled me at the same time, and I was confused at my brain’s response.

I dropped the bookmarks back on the counter and in an attempt to distract myself I grabbed my coffee and took a sip, looking across the shop to try and find any other colleague who was available, but everyone else was already helping a customer.

“Oh fine,” I said. “And only because I’m doing my job,” I added for good measure, shoving my hand in my pocket. “So what are you looking for?”

“Well,” he said, copying my move and also shoving his hands in his pockets. “It’s nearly Christmas and I wanted to get my sisters some books,” he said, his face lighting up with a grin at the mention of the girls. He adored them, and so did pretty much the whole town. I’d seen them in the store before with their mum, and they were polite and well-behaved and cute as a button. I had no problem with his family, as they’d done nothing wrong.

“Alright, well, what do they like to read?” I asked as I led Taron to the children’s section. “We’ve got everything from mermaids to unicorns. It runs the gamut of cute,” I said. 

“Gamut of cute, eh?” he said with a grin, his gaze passing over me for a moment, but I ignored that fact as I pulled some of my personal favorites off the shelf. I may have gotten distracted and read a kid’s book or two while shelving, but could you blame me?

I forgot that I hated him while I helped him shop, getting lost in my passion for books and actually laughing when he started to read one of the stories in a goofy voice. After about 15 minutes or so, we ended up with an interesting and varied stack of books, each one I felt the girls would love. Clearly, their brother had a generous heart and deep pockets.

I followed him as he carried the books back up to the counter, and started to ring his purchase up. I noted him rifling through the bookmarks out of the corner of my eye. “Ah here, add this,” he said, choosing one and adding it to the stack. I added it to the tab and ran his card, focusing on that part of the transaction while he bagged his own books. I wasn’t about to argue.

“Thanks again,” I said, giving him a not-entirely-genuine smile, just happy to have him out of the store.

“Wait,” he said, looking behind him to make sure no one else was in line. “Let me take you out for a coffee. Or a beer, something. Give me a chance to explain,” he fairly pleaded with me. The offer was actually tempting, as I would relish the chance to tell him off again, I told myself. Or maybe I was just curious to figure out a piece of my past I’d always thought I knew. He fidgeted slightly as I deliberated with myself. 

“Here,” he said, pulling out the bookmark he’d just bought and jotting down his number on the back of it. “You don’t have to decide right now. I’ll be in town all weekend. You can let me know,” he said, pushing the bookmark across the counter to me.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll uh, let you know,” I said, wishing I’d sounded more sure of myself.

“Take care of yourself, Morgan,” he said softly, giving me a half-smile before turning and heading out the door. I slowly ran my fingers over the tassel of the bookmark, spreading out the ribbons and lost in thought until another customer came up. I shook myself out of it, sliding the bookmark, and Taron’s number, into my back pocket before ringing up the customer a bit absent-mindedly.

“So what’d he want?” Andreyah asked, finding her way back to the counter, a couple of books tucked under her arm.

“Just books for his sisters,” I said, choosing not to tell her about the standing offer. I’m not sure why, but this felt far too personal to me, and her enthusiasm wouldn’t help me here.

“That’s really sweet,” she said with a dreamy sigh as I rang up her books.

“Don’t you get started on about how dishy he is,” I said with a laugh. “I need you on my side here!”

“Alright, alright,” she laughed, holding up her hands. “But he did come in to check up on you too, so…” she said, trailing off.

“So what?” I asked. “He’s the reason I’m hurt in the first place,” I said, realizing how much that reverberated through my life.

“Maybe it’s time to do some healing, Mori,” Andreyah said softly, staring me down until I felt uncomfortable. “Alright, I should go. Don’t want to get you in trouble with your boss. We’ll talk later, alright?”

“Of course,” I said, giving her a smile despite the cracks I felt opening up inside. I waved and watched her go, finishing my coffee and doing my best to survive the rest of my shift. I was grateful when I was free to go. I swung next door to The Grail, grabbing my favorite go-to snack, as their hummus and pita were the best around. When I took a seat near the window, I felt something snag in my back pocket. I’d completely forgotten the bookmark, and I pulled it out and stared at the neat digits printed there.

I pulled my phone out and stared at the screen for a long moment before finally dialing, waiting for the other end to pick up.

“Baby sister! So good to hear from you!” my brother answered enthusiastically on the second ring.

“Hey Dex,” I grinned, using my favorite nickname for my brother. I could never be in a bad mood around him.

“How are the old folks?” he asked.

“They’re just mum and dad, you know,” I said, feeling tears well up in my eyes. I was overwhelmed with everything that had happened, and hearing my brother’s voice elicited a pang of longing. I missed my brother terribly, even if he didn’t live that far away, just down the A487 in Cardigan. We’d always been so close growing up.

He must have heard the tremble in my voice. “Is everything alright, Morgan?”

“No, not really. I kinda need my big brother right now,” I said, trying not to cry in the cafe. No one needed salty tears in their hummus. “Can you come here?” I asked pitifully.

My brother paused for a moment. “Morgan, I’m an hour away. It’s a bit of a drive,” he reasoned.

“I know. But this is about Taron,” I said, listening to the silence on the other end of the line. “Hello? Dex?” I asked.

“What about him?” Declan asked quietly.

“He’s back in Aber and we’ve had a bit of a run-in. He said there was shit about what went down between you two that I don’t know.”

Declan sighed heavily, and I could imagine him running his fingers through his long hair the way he always did when he was agitated. “I haven’t thought about that in years. Why has it come up now?” he finally asked.

“It’s… a long story,” I replied. “I’m not sure I’ve been the kindest person.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Dex replied.

“Hey! What does that mean?” I asked indignantly, jabbing a piece of pita into the hummus with more force then I’d meant to.

“Morgan, I’ve known you my entire life and I’ve never once seen you give someone a second chance.”

“So you’re saying I should give Taron Egerton a second chance. Taron, of all people?” I scoffed around a bite of the pita.

“I just don’t see the point in carrying a grudge on something that happened over a decade ago. I’ve forgiven him and moved on with my life. He’s mostly the one that took the blame over his mates for what happened. Morgan, you should know he’s never said an unkind word to me in his life.” I nearly choked on the piece of pita I was chewing.

“What?” I managed to ask, an uneasy feeling beginning in the pit of my stomach.

“You’ve always been protective of me, sis, and maybe there was a time I needed it. But you’ve built walls around yourself to do that and I think you’re only hurting yourself now.” There was a reason my brother gave corporate presentations for a job; he had the motivational speaker thing down pat. Meanwhile, I just felt like I was crumbling.

We talked a bit further and when we hung up, I’d made my decision. I typed Taron’s number into my phone and opened a text message. <One chance.> I sent, feeling suddenly and stupidly nervous.

<One chance is all I need.> he replied back immediately, followed by a time and place. I was surprised, because it wasn’t where I’d expected him to choose. I finished up my snack and walked back home, having a little time to kill and feeling like my world had turned upside down. The revelations my brother had revealed tore a bit at the edges of the anger I’d held onto for so long.

When the time to leave arrived, I was almost a nervous wreck. I asked my parents if I could borrow the car for the evening, and thankfully they agreed. I didn’t want to charge a cab ride if I didn’t have to, as I couldn’t have walked to where we were meeting. I made the drive over to Ysgol Penglais, following Taron’s texted directions, wondering if he was half-crazy. I slowed my speed a bit on Cefn Llan since no one was behind me, searching for his car, and pulled off the road behind him when I spotted it.

“What the heck are we doing here?” I asked when we’d both exited our cars, my breath coming out in white puffs.

“Just trust me,” he said, giving me a wicked grin before walking up and down the hedge row that bordered the school. He must have found what he was looking for because he beckoned me over, and we managed to squeeze through the small break he must have known was there all along. We ran across the grounds, half-bent over as if that would conceal us in the open, but it was a Saturday evening and no one was there anyway. The windows were all dark, Taron leading me around to a particular one and, to my surprise and with a little effort on his part, he managed to slide it open. He clasped his hands together and offered it to me.

“Are you out of your bloody mind? We’re not breaking into the school!” I said.

“Oh come on, live a little,” he smirked. “My mates and I always used to do this back in the day.”

“I’m not your mate,” I said, cringing slightly as that sounded different coming out of my mouth than it had in my head. He just shook his head in amusement and beckoned me to put my foot in his hand.

“Oh what the hell,” I said, wondering if this was the dumbest thing I’d ever decided to do in my life. Taron was surprisingly strong, boosting me up into the window with no trouble, and I balanced on the ledge a bit precariously for a moment, finding it difficult to not use both of my arms. I managed to jump down safely to the other side and waited as Taron hefted himself up and over with no help at all. I couldn’t help but be impressed. The hallways were darkened, but the windows let in enough light for us to see, and after a few moments I knew exactly where he was headed.

He pulled the auditorium doors open, and we both turned our phone flashlights on as we bumped our way down the aisle, climbing the steps until we were standing on the stage, facing out to an audience that would have been there had this been a production. “I have so many memories here,” Taron said, his voice echoing a bit before he pulled out two bottles of beer he’d stashed in his coat. He took a seat at the edge of the stage, legs swinging over, and I joined him. We sat our phones down between us, the lights shining up and casting strange shadows on the ceiling, but I didn’t feel scared to be there with him. 

He popped the cap off one of the bottles and handed it to me. I took a swig and waited for him to say more; he knew why we were here, and I desperately needed to know what had happened. “I can’t even begin to say how sorry I am, and what’s done is unfortunately done,” he started, a slight tremor working its way into his voice as he tried to recall the events of those days. I sat and listened, drinking my beer and looking over at him every now and again. The way the light shone up highlighted the lines of his jaw, and when his eyes met mine from time to time, I could see the softness of his eyelashes. It wasn’t what I had meant to be thinking, but I’d have been truly blind to not see how he filled out the jeans and shirt he was wearing.

“We were 15, and we were stupid. I don’t think any of us meant to hurt your brother,” Taron finally said, drawing to a close. “I knew the bullying was wrong, and I should have stood up for him. But I was questioning myself, my own intentions and even my sexuality, and I thought if I defended your brother then I might’ve been the next one on the chopping block. It was cowardly, and I’ve held that close to my heart for a long time,” he spoke into the darkness, and I couldn’t help the sympathy that dug its way through me.

“Your silence made you complicit, don’t you see that?” I asked sadly.

“Of course I realized it later, after some counseling and maturity caught up to me. And I tried to talk to you about it, once. I was about to graduate and felt the need to make amends for all the dumb shit I’d done in school,” he replied, which was news to me. The few interactions with Taron I remembered from school days had mostly been him teasing me or showing off for his schoolmates.

“The thing is, Morgan, at some point you stopped being just Declan’s little sister and started being someone I rather fancied. I never said anything because I always thought you were off-limits.” You could have heard a pin drop in the auditorium; I’m pretty sure I had forgotten how to breathe. “Anyway, I’m sure that ship has long set sail for me. But I hope you can at least forgive me.”

I truly didn’t know what to say, stunned into silence at his sudden confession. I was pummeled every which way by the different emotions coursing through me, memories replaying in my mind that I suddenly saw in a completely different light. “Holy shit, I’ve been such an idiot,” I said. I’d been so focused on protecting Declan that I’d never once thought to ask what it meant for myself.

“No, not you. It’s always been me being the idiot,” he said, turning to me and sweetly cupping my chin with his hand. “For all my years of acting, you’d think I’d have gotten better at this. I’ve been the one too afraid to admit my feelings out loud,” he continued, his eyes boring into mine. I’d never experienced this kind of raw honesty from anyone before, and I couldn’t hide the way it made me feel. 

“And now I think I’ve gone and lost you,” he said, searching my face. “You’ve hated me for so long. I don’t know how I could possibly change your mind.” He seemed so crestfallen that I felt it echo in my own chest.

“One chance. One day,” I said with a sudden smile. “You get one day with me tomorrow to change my mind.”

I watched the grin spread across his sweet face, brightening his eyes, and it was all for me. “I could give you the world in one day,” he said, brushing his thumb across my lips. We stared at each other for a moment, the space between us suddenly feeling very, very small. I sucked in my breath as he leaned in closer and then the auditorium doors swung open, scaring the shit out of me. I reacted, banging my forehead into Taron’s nose. “Shit, I’m sorry!” I gasped as a disembodied voice called out “What are you kids doing in here!” I doubt the janitor could see us clearly either.

“Come on!” Taron giggled, grabbing my hand and pulling me to my feet. He headed for the backstage, knowing the place like the back of his hand, and we weaved our way in and out of props until he found a back door. We pushed our way through it, laughing and breathless, the janitor’s shouts still echoing somewhere behind us as we tore off down the hallway, back toward the window and our escape.

I lay in my bed later that night, recounting our mad dash back to the cars in the waning light, the way he’d laughingly pulled the sticks from the hedge out of my hair and how he’d promised me the best day of my life tomorrow. I was still fairly buzzed from the beer and the way Taron had looked at me, like I was the only girl in the world. I finally understood that particular Taron effect now that I’d chosen to finally see the man he’d grown up to be. He was no longer that lanky, awkward teen straight out of my memories, the one I’d hung every last school-year ache upon. My insides felt like they’d been melted down to nothing and reshaped overnight; I was not the same Morgan I had been the day before. I drifted off to sleep with a smile on my face, truly looking forward to exploring Aber in a different way, with someone I found I rather fancied after all.

The sweet tale continues on Sunday. Read it HERE.

[ben243s-transformation-stories]

As Seen on TV

My name is Spencer. You can tell I have a bit of the old Irish blood in me, as I have a nice head of longish red hair, and a fairly boyish face. If you look carefully enough, you can still make out the freckles on my nose and cheeks, though they have faded since I was a younger. I have been living with my boyfriend Kevin for a few months now. It took us a while to find a good apartment. It had to be one that would take not only us, but also our pets. Kevin has a yellow lab named Sam. He’s never told me how he came to have him, but he is a beautiful dog, with slightly curly hair. He is very friendly and seems to be very intelligent. I know it seems crazy, but sometimes I find myself being careful what I say around him. I am sure he can understand what I say, and knows more than he his letting on. Or maybe I am just crazy. I have a cat named Bob. She was a feral cat that I rescued from a colony near my mothers house. There is something wrong with her legs that make her walk kind of funny, and she falls over if she runs too fast, but she has the most wonderful long grey-stripped fur and is the friendliest cat I have ever seen. There was no way I could leave her outside. We had been going out for several years, but as we had moved in together only recently, our money was kind of tight so we pooled our resources to get everything we would need. Our parents had donated some of the kitchen appliances, which was great, but we still spent a lot of time looking trough thrift stores for furniture. We managed to cobble together a rather respectable array of things, and most were still in fairly good shape and comfortable. The place was really starting to feel like home. I wasn’t thrilled with the paint colors, but one battle at a time. We had plenty of time to fix that. One evening after a long day of work, I decided to do a little shopping for an anniversary present. We had agreed that since most of our funds had gone into the apartment, we would limit ourselves to $20. I knew just what to get him- his favorite author had just released a new book, so I made my way to the bookstore to pick it up.  On the way, I stopped in this new store that had opened just a couple of weeks ago. It was an “As Seen On TV” store. I has seen many infomercials, and thought that some of the items were at least somewhat useful looking, but most were just junk. I had heard too many horror stories about problems ordering things from the TV, from stolen credit card numbers, to over billing, to problems with getting or retuning items, to ever consider actually ordering anything. Here in this shop, I could use cash. I could take the items home today. No mailing lists, no auto ships, no questions about wither or not the product would even arrive. I don’t know what it was, but something compelled me to browse the shelves. While passing by the regular assortment of miracle products, something caught my eye. It was a jar of cream. It promised to spice up your life, and make you feel younger and give you the energy you had when you were kid. I laughed when I read the box in what was clearly badly translated Chinese, but for some reason I couldn’t help but buy the box. Hey, it was guaranteed! I quickly paid for the cream, and made my way to the bookstore. After browsing a few minuets, I was able to find the one I wanted. It would be the perfect gift, and I would still have some money left over to have it wrapped.  I didn’t wrap things myself anymore. Not after last Christmas. But the less said about that the better. When I got home, I put Kevin’s present away, and looked at the jar of cream. I still don’t know what had made me buy it. Bob jumped up into my lap and started purring. I scratched her behind the ears for a few moments, then decided to open the jar. The smell was horrible. Bob fell all over herself to get out of my lap, and scrambled away as fast as she could and hid under the bed. It would take hours to get her to come back out. I was glad that Kevin was out walking Sam. Still something made me try it. I rubbed some of the cream into my arm. As it absorbed in, amazingly, it stopped smelling. I suddenly felt a rush go through my body. I really did feel more energized and younger. The feeling only lasted for a few minuets, and just as I was about to rub more of the cream into my skin, Kevin came home. I put the rest of the cream into the medicine cabinet, and went out to great him. I met Kevin in the kitchen just as he was closing the door. He unhooked the leash from Sam and gave me a Kiss. Sam looked up at us, and I swear he glared at me before walking over to his bowls for some water. We hugged for a few minuets, and told each other how much we loved one another.  We kissed again, and I made my way over to the fridge to start dinner. Luckily neither of us had very expensive tastes, as the only things in the fridge were a few chicken breasts, some teriyaki sauce, and the steaks for our anniversary dinner. We should probably go shopping at some point. I managed to find a few vegetables in the kitchen, and put together a nice stir-fry. As we ate, we chatted about our days. Kevin worked for one of those huge corporations, and I never had any idea what he did no matter how many times he explained it to me. Though I still enjoyed his stories about some of his stranger coworkers. I spent most of my day working online, so I never had any good stories, and was content to sit there and listen to the sound of his voice. He could have read a phonebook to me and I would have loved it. After we had cleaned up from dinner, we retired to the living room and watched some TV before bed. We spent several hours snuggled up with each other before heading off to bed after the 11 o’clock news. I must have been more tired than I thought, because I dropped right off to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I don’t usually remember my dreams, but one stuck with me. I was back in my old childhood home, running and playing in the back yard like a maniac. I hadn’t done anything like that for years, but it seemed very satisfying. I awoke more refreshed than usual the next morning. I got up just in time to have breakfast with Kevin before he left for his job. Most of what I did was online, so I often worked from home, and could keep pretty much any schedule I wanted as long as everything was done on time. I kissed Kevin goodbye, and since I didn’t feel like working, I made my way to the grocery store to pick up a few necessities. All the way there and back, I couldn’t help but think about the way the cream had made me feel. I made up my mind to try it again when I got home. I loaded up the cart with the items from our list, and couldn’t help but throw in some random junk food and other impulse items when I got to the check out. I made myself put away the groceries (at least the perishable stuff) before I broke out the cream again. I carefully opened the jar. The smell hadn’t changed, but for some reason I didn’t find it quite so objectionable. As soon as Bob got a whiff of it, she went crazy again and ran off to some hiding spot only she knew about. Sam made the weirdest barking sounds until I finally let him out onto our balcony. I made a mental note to watch out for the pets next time. I carefully took a little more of the cream and spread it on my arms and face. As I worked it in, I felt the rush again. This time it was stronger. I couldn’t believe how much energy I had. I logged in and got my work done in record time. I spent the rest of the afternoon in the park with Sam playing fetch and running around like crazy. I hadn’t felt this good in years. It was getting dark by the time we got home, and both Sam and I were exhausted. When Kevin came home, he found us both sound asleep, curled up on the couch. Kevin had obviously found the groceries, because I awoke to the smell of one of his wonderful Italian dishes. It was the one he had made on our first date. That dish alone was enough to get me to fall for him. When he saw me walk into the Kitchen, he said something about being sorry to wake me. I didn’t care. I was just happy to see him again. I quickly kissed him and hugged him. We sat down to eat and, for some reason, Kevin’s cooking tasted even better to me than usual. I cleaned my plate and even had thirds. Kevin looked amazed, and took it as a compliment. We left the dirty dishes in the sink, and skipped the TV and headed to the bedroom for a little aggressive cuddling, if you know what I mean. The next day, I was exhausted from all the exertion, so I slept later than usual. When I awoke, Kevin had already left for work. I had the whole place to myself. I got up and wandered around the place in my underwear. I cleaned up the plates from last night and caught “The Price is Right.” Before I knew it, it was late in the afternoon. I didn’t feel like working, so I decided just to take the afternoon off. It wasn’t long before I felt the urge to use some more of the cream. I locked Bob in the bedroom, and let Sam out onto the balcony before making my way to the bathroom. As I was still in my underwear, it was an easy task to spread a helping of the cream all over my body. The smell was almost intoxicating now, as was the felling I got from rubbing it all over my body. As I was putting the cream away, I got a look at my face in the mirror. I wasn’t sure what, but something was different. My face had a younger look to it, and my freckles seemed to be more pronounced. Not much, but enough I could notice. When Kevin got home, I convinced him to take me out for dinner. Since we were on a budget, and it was almost our anniversary, we ended up at a fast food place. This was fine with me, as I had been craving burgers and fries for a while. After dinner, we took a romantic walk through the park and watched the sun set. Luckily we had stopped by the apartment and picked up Sam, because he was the only one that could keep up with me. Kevin tried for a while, but eventually he had to find a place to sit down while Sam and I had a great time chasing each other and playing fetch. On the way home, Kevin asked what had gotten into me, and I told him I would show him tomorrow. When we got in the door, Sam went to his bed and was asleep within seconds. Kevin and I settled in to watch some TV, and the next thing I knew, the sun was rising. It was the day of our anniversary, and we had big plans. We made a nice breakfast of omelets and sausage, Then we went to the movies. Hey, I said we had big plans, not a big budget. My parents even threw us a little party, which I wasn’t expecting. They even picked us up lunch from a local bbq place. It couldn’t have been more perfect. We stayed most of the afternoon making small talk and playing a few adult party games.  I hadn’t seen this side of my parents very often and I liked it. When we got home, we exchanged presents. Kevin loved the book I got him, and he found one of the video games I had been eyeing on sale. He always knew just what to get me. We spent the rest of the afternoon playing the game together. Dinner that night was the steaks that I had rubbed with coffee and some other spices. I found the recipe online, and it sounded good. The actual product was delicious. Some French fries and a salad topped off the meal, with a nice cheesecake made from my grandmother’s secret recipe for dessert. After everything was cleaned up, I called Kevin into the bedroom. When he came in I was completely naked. I told him I was ready to show him what had made me feel so good. I showed him the cream. I opened it up, and proceeded to rub it all over my body. The feeling was overwhelming and wonderful. I told Kevin about everything it had done and told him he should try it to. Kevin took one whiff of it, and gagged. He said he would try it, and took it into the bathroom with him. When he came back out he was naked too, and we spent the night doing the devils dance in every way we could think of. It was the best sex and anniversary I had ever had. I’m not sure what happened to the pets, because I didn’t see them again until late the next day. I don’t know what got into them. Usually they were always underfoot. When I got up in the morning, Kevin was in the bathroom getting ready for the day. I walked up to him and hugged him from behind. He turned around a grabbed me. We kissed. Something seemed off. I noticed I was standing on my tiptoes to reach him. Never had to do that before. When I looked in the mirror, I really got a surprise. My freckles had returned. They formed a nice line under my eyes and across my nose. I had always hated them, but everyone else said they were cute. They hadn’t been this prominent for years. Kevin could tell something was wrong, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. I figured I was just imagining things. I decided to go back to bed and get some rest. When I woke up again, I was feeling full of energy. I came into the living room to find Kevin watching TV. I snuggled up next to him, and we watched a few shows. It looked like such a nice day outside; we decided to go for a walk, figuring some fresh air would do us some good. I noticed as I got up to follow Kevin out that he seemed to be taller. Or maybe I was shorter. But that was crazy wasn’t it? We spent most of the afternoon out, and Kevin watched as Sam and I played in the park. By the time we got home, I was convinced that something was seriously off. I was now several inches shorter than Kevin. I had trouble kissing him even on my tiptoes. He had to bend over. I told Kevin that I though I was shrinking, but he told me that I was being crazy. There was no way that could happen. I figured he was right. We had dinner and went to bed. I had trouble sleeping, but finally dozed off a little after 2 am. In the morning there was no question. When I got out of bed and went to bathroom, I nearly tripped over my underwear. It had gotten so loose that it had fallen down around my ankles. When Kevin came over to help me up, I noticed I only came up to his chest now. I was definitely shrinking. I ran into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. What I saw was still me, but looked as though I was teenager instead of an adult. My freckles were very obvious now, and my face reminded me of how I looked when I was about 18. How was this possible? People didn’t just get younger. When I came out, Kevin got his first good look at me. His jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe how much I had changed. I still looked like an adult, but definitely a young one, not the man I had been. I racked my mind trying to explain what was going on. The only thing I could think of was the cream. I asked Kevin where he had put it when he was done with it, and he said it was in the medicine cabinet. I looked all over and couldn’t find it. I asked him if he was sure. He said yes. I also asked if he had felt any symptoms since he had used the cream too. He started to say something, and then he confessed that once he had smelled it, he couldn’t use it and just threw it away. I looked in the garbage, and found the jar. I knew it had to be what was causing my problems, but somehow I still felt the urge to rub it on my body. I was addicted to the way it made me fell. Kevin came over and pulled the jar out of my hands. He found the contact information and called it. He came back shaking his head. The number had been disconnected. Kevin searched the jar for any other information only to find that it had expired years ago. Great. Why didn’t I think to check that? We searched the web and came up with nothing. As far as we could tell, the company that made it didn’t exist. We found some reviews, but most said it was just a waste of money and they had never gotten any results, so they threw it away. If only they had waited until it expired. I told Kevin to keep the cream away from me. I wasn’t sure how much it could change me. I had probably used way more than the recommended dosage. I started to get really scared, not knowing what would happen next. Kevin made an appointment with our doctor for tomorrow, and we decided that there was nothing else we could do for today, as it was Sunday and most businesses would be closed for the weekend. Before we sat down to dinner, Kevin took Sam out for a walk and disposed of the cream where he said I could never find it. That at least was a relief. When I got up in the morning, I felt weird. I got up and tried to get dressed. Nothing fit. It was all too big. I wrapped a towel around me, and made my way into the kitchen looking for Kevin. He was sitting at the table drinking his coffee. He nearly spit it out when he saw me. He got up and came over to give me a hug. I was noticeably shorter now. My head only came up to his armpit. I had lost at least 2 or 3 more inches. Kevin laughed, and said I couldn’t go to the doctor like that. He would have to go out and get me something to wear. He grabbed his keys and headed out to his car. I didn’t know what to do, so I sat down and poured myself a bowl of cereal.As I started to eat, a number of thoughts went through my mind. Could I still work? Yes. Most of what I did was online, so it didn’t matter what I looked like. How small would I get? There was no way for me to tell. Was it permanent? Again who could tell? Would I grow back? I made sure to keep these questions in mind to ask the doctor. When Kevin returned, he had several large bags with him. He had gone to the local Wal-Mart and purchased clothes in a variety of sizes hoping something would fit. He had picked up mostly t-shirts and sweatpants type items as they would stretch and had a little more give in fit. I took the bags back to the bedroom, and tried things on until I found something that fit me reasonably. When I looked myself over in the mirror, I noticed that not only had I gotten shorter, but I also appeared to be getting younger. Instead of the “young adult” I looked like last night, I was now unmistakably a teenager. I could easily pass as a senior in high school, or maybe a college freshman. This was too weird. The doctor’s appointment was not very informative. Kevin and I asked a ton of questions, and they did a ton of tests on me. They didn’t believe that I was getting younger, and kept insisting that I was a perfectly healthy 18 year old. I showed him my driver’s license showing I was older than that, but the doctor just assumed it was a fake id. I got really frustrated and threw on my clothes, noticing they were looser than when we came in, and stormed out of the building. I was so mad that took Kevin almost an hour to get me to calm down. We decided to stop off at McDonalds for lunch and picked up some food. By the time we got home, I was almost tripping over my pants. I went into the bedroom and let them drop to the floor. Looking at the mirror in the bathroom, I guessed I was now 16 at most. I searched the bag, and found another pair of pants that fit. Luckily I was good only dropping one size. I still had a few more pairs to go before I needed to go shopping again. At this rate, they probably wouldn’t last very long, but I could hope. I refused to leave the bedroom the rest of the day. I didn’t want anyone to see me this way. Not even Kevin. I was glad when Bob came in and I lifted her onto my chest and started stroking her. Before long she started purring. That sound had always made me happy, and it did it’s job well this time. It wasn’t long before I was relaxed and let most of the stresses of the day leave my body. While I was in the bedroom feeling sorry for myself, Kevin was doing what he could to get answers. He had found the receipt for the cream and called the store. They denied even carrying the product. He told them that was absurd as he had the receipt in his hand. There was a loud exchange of profanities and then I heard the phone slam down. It wasn’t hard to guess that the conversation hadn’t gone well. I hadn’t really noticed before, but as the day went on, I started to think and act more like the teenager I looked like, and less like the adult I was. It scared me whenever I caught myself doing something child like. I tried as hard as I could to avoid it, but it was quickly becoming the norm rather than an exception. When Kevin called me to dinner, I snuck a look in the mirror, and was happy I hadn’t changed any more in the last few hours. Kevin had done his best to make me something I liked, but I wasn’t really in the mood to eat. I just picked at my diner for a while. After dinner all I wanted to do was watch TV until I went to bed. Kevin tried to comfort me, and I must admit it did help. When I woke up in the morning, I felt like a new man. I jumped out of bed, and went into the bathroom. After taking care of business, I looked into the mirror. My mood changed quickly when I noticed that I now looked no more that about 14 years old. Great, back to being a freshman. I could see the start of acne appearing on my face. I would probably be covered in it before too long. I wasn’t looking forward to going through puberty backwards. I rummaged through the bags again, and found the last outfit that was small enough for me to wear. Looks like I will have to go out and get some more, and based on what I was wearing now, I would probably have to shop in the boys department. I wasn’t looking forward to that. I got dressed and came out into the living room. Kevin was sitting at the table doing something on his computer. He looked up when I came in. I walked over to him and called him dad. We both looked stunned. I quickly corrected myself, and told him I would have to get some more clothes as these were the smallest that fit. Luckily Kevin had saved up a lot of leave, so he took off for the rest of the week. I was glad that he would be with me, even if there wasn’t really anything he could do. We chatted on the drive to Wal-Mart, and I know he noticed the way my speech and behavior had changed as my mind adapted to my teenage body. Kevin sent me to the men’s clothes section while he went and retuned anything I hadn’t actually worn. I looked around, but everything was either too big for me, or would be soon. I soon found myself shopping in the boy’s section. I tried to pick out the most neutral things I could find, with no logos or childish prints, but that didn’t leave me with much selection. By the time Kevin had found me, I had a cart full of clothing in a variety of sizes. I had given in, and tired to pick at least the most popular and least offensive looking clothes I could find. My teenage mind kept resisting, but my adult mind knew that I would need them at some point. I looked at the little kids clothes and hoped I wouldn’t get that small. That got me thinking. What if I ended up back in diapers? Could I get that young? What would happen to me? Would I still be me? A big part of your personality is what happens during your life. That would never be the same. I had to stop thinking like that. There was nothing I could do, and it was too depressing. I decided to stop with clothes for elementary schoolers. Hopefully I wouldn’t get any smaller than that. While Kevin waited in the check out line, my teenage mind took control, and decided I was bored with this. I told him I was out of there, and made my way out of the store. Kevin tried to stop me, but didn’t want to loose his place in line. When he finally made his purchases he came out to find me. It wasn’t hard, as there was a GameStop just a few doors down, and I had wondered in there to check out the video games. After loading me and the bags into the car, we started for home. I was able to snap back to my normal self and apologize for my behavior. Kevin told me it wasn’t a big deal, and he remembered being that age. By the time we got home and unloaded everything the teenager was in control again. I have to give Kevin credit. I think if it had been me, I would have killed myself off. Kevin always had the patience of a saint.

Somehow we managed to decide on something for lunch. Man, I had forgotten what a pain in the ass teenagers were. I wasn’t doing it on purpose honest. Somehow I think Kevin knew that. When we got home, I caught sight of myself, and knew I couldn’t be any older than about 13. Like any teenager, I seemed to be full of hormones. Without thinking about it, I stripped off my clothes so I could examine my body. My body hair had mostly receded, and I had lost a lot of definition in my muscles. Some other areas had also gotten considerably smaller (I’m sure you know what I mean). I was looking more and more like a little boy every minuet. Like most teenagers when it was dinnertime, I ate like a horse. I’m not sure where I put it all. Kevin was amazed as I shoveled in helping after helping. After eating nearly everything on the table, I excused myself and ran off to play video games. I played into the wee hours of the morning. I tried to convince myself that it was because I was having so much fun, but it was really because I afraid of what I would find when I woke up. Try as I might, I eventually collapsed from exhaustion. Kevin found me the next morning still in the living room with the controller clutched in my hand. Kevin gently shook me awake, and I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. I said good morning, and called him dad again. This time he just chuckled. I couldn’t figure out why. I made my way into the bathroom to get ready for the day. Looking in the mirror I found a boy of no more than 10 staring back at me. I started the shower, and started taking off my clothes. It didn’t take long as they had gotten fairly baggy over night. I took a deep breath and looked down at my body. I was definitely on the other side of puberty now. I had no hair anywhere but on my head, and my body had reverted to a very child like shape. All that baby fat I had worked so hard to get rid of had come back with a vengeance. After my shower, I dried off, and tossed the towel on the floor. Seems I didn’t have much modesty as a little kid, and walked back to the bedroom naked. Kevin got a good look at me. An expression flashed across his face. I’m sure if I had been in my normal mindset, I would have recognized it as sadness and grief at what he and I had lost, but my prepubescent mind didn’t make the connection. After I got dressed, I came back out, and we discussed what we were going to do for the day. Anyone who saw us would have assumed it was just a boy with his dad. I had long since given up trying to keep my adult self in control. It was getting harder and harder and any distraction would cause me to slip. I was now thinking of myself exclusively as a little boy, and Kevin had become my father as far as I was concerned. It seemed to be a role that he was willing and eager to take on. We decided to spend the day doing things suitable for a boy my age. We went to some museums, which both Kevin and I found fun, and even went to the zoo. I can’t remember having a better time. Even when I was a kid the first time.   Over the next few days the regression slowed. I lost a year every couple of days rather than a few a day. I finally ended up stabilizing at about 7. My mind is now for all intents and purposes that of a 2nd grader. I don’t know if my old skills and knowledge are still there, but I can’t access them. Maybe they will come back as I get older. If I get older. We still don’t know what will happen. As I was in no position to do the work I used to do, and couldn’t be left home alone anymore, Kevin used what little savings we had left to pay a shady lawyer to draw up all the documents Kevin and I would need. According to my new birth certificate, I am officially seven years old, and Kevin is my father. I will be starting Second grade in the fall. Until then, I am stuck with babysitters and summer camps. I know Kevin was racking his brain trying to figure out how to tell my parents what has happened. I don’t envy him that task. All I know is that Bob and Sam are happy as I have a lot more time and energy to spend with them. Sam and I are outside playing from sun up to sun down most days, and Bob Snuggles up with me until dinner, and sleeps in the bed with me. It must be easier for me to be happy, not really knowing what I have lost, but I know that Kevin is happy too. He really loves me and treats me like his son. It doesn’t seem to matter to him that he has lost his boyfriend or that I might be stuck this way for the rest of my life. I guess that cream really did give me what it promised. Just not in the way I was expecting. Guess I wont be needing that guarantee after all.

[faygosmayhem]

Story time #1- Final Fantasy & Me

At the time of this writing, the people following this sad little blog will all know me from the Final Fantasy XV community. For my first story session, I’ve decided to recount my history with the series and touch on what each game meant to me in the order that I played them. I’ll try to keep it as brief as possible, and restrict it to only the main games in the series, but I can rant for hours.

Note: I utterly failed at keeping this brief, I should have known better than to even try. To keep myself from writing a full novel in one post I’ve decided to split the story into parts. Below is the intro and memories from 7,8 and 9.

                                                  Part One

A Fangirl In The Making:

I’ve been into video games since the age of about 5 when my dad would regularly challenge me to competitive rounds of Super Mario Bros 3 for the NES. In the beginning I stuck mostly to NES, Gameboy, and N64 until Christmas of 02′ when all my begging and pouting finally came through and I was gifted with a PlayStation 2 and enough cash to purchase one game of my choice.

Oh how my parents would come to regret this decision.

The game I bought two days later was Kingdom Hearts. I’ll save my thoughts on that series for another time, but hands down this game can be pinpointed as one that permanently changed my life. What part of it changed my life? The journal, of all things. Prior to KH, I had no idea the Final Fantasy series even existed so when I encountered the Kingdom Hearts versions of FF characters, I initially started internally complaining because they were all so interesting and the game did almost nothing with them.  

Then I went back about mid-way through the game and read every character entry in the journal, and was met with two obsession worthy revelations. One: All these characters were also in other games, as part of the same series no less, and two: you could make them dance by choosing to view their full models and rotating the joystick around in circles (I am very easily amused, and doing this actually spawned my first work of Fanfiction).

“So, you mean to tell me that this weird dude with gravity defying hair, one random- mostly useless-wing, and giant sword that must weigh about three times as much as he does when naked and soaking wet who won’t stop emo rambling about Darkness is in another game and I can find out more??? Sign me the fuck up!”

The Gateway Drug:

Immediately after finishing Kingdom Hearts, I took myself down to a local mall where my go-to all encompassing general entertainment store was located. While browsing the shelves for anything that caught my eye, I saw a ‘Greatest Hits’ copy of Final Fantasy VII innocently sitting there, waiting patiently for the right person to walk by so it could take them willingly down the elevator into fandom hell. I didn’t just ride that elevator, I dove headfirst down the shaft.

I shit you not, when I saw that game there I picked it up like a baby and fell to my knees, hugging it to my chest. The video games were located near the cashier counter at the front of the store, and one of the employees who had been eyeing me suspiciously since I walked in started laughing like crazy, jokingly asking if I was OK. I was still dazed and euphoric, and also completely oblivious to the fact that I was causing a bit of scene in the store. The front was plate glass, and everyone walking by also saw and a few people were starting to look concerned. Now a bit embarrassed, I sheepishly walked to the counter and set the game down. After causing a commotion I couldn’t just not buy that game now- as if I would’ve left without it anyway. The guy at the counter was still laughing as he served me. Our exchange went as follows:

“I take it you found what you were looking for”

“Dude, you have no idea”

“You won’t be disappointed. Just, a pro-tip, when you get to the part with the water and the snake, don’t waste too much time trying to fight it, get a Chocobo instead. Also, avoid the things that look like houses in sector 6, they’ll kick your ass.”

I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but I filed the information away, paid my 14.95 (Ah, 2003), and walked out of the store cradling the bag like someone was going to steal it from me. When I got home later I tacked the receipt on my wall to immortalize the day forever. I eventually ended up losing it (a story for another time) but I still remember the date. 05/26/03.

I loaded the game and was immediately in awe ( “It’s three discs? No wonder the case is so freaking huge!”). The opening cinematic had me from the first note of the theme, and I remember laughing SO HARD when Cloud flipped off the train and suddenly everyone was a Lego character. It took an embarrassing amount of time for me figure out how to advance the text because it was set to use the circle button for confirm instead of ‘x’, and even longer to figure out how to move because I didn’t realize you actually had to use the D-pad.

Control struggles aside, I was so enraptured by the game I didn’t stop playing that first night until the Sector 7 plate fell and yeah, those damn houses did kick my ass. When I finally got out of Midgar about two days later (I spent an excessive amount of time in the Shinra building and on the Motorcycle mini-game), I couldn’t believe that everything I just did was basically the game’s intro, and that there was still so much more to explore.

I have so many fond memories of VII that  it would be almost impossible to write them all down. Down the road it ended up pretty far from my favorite game in the series, but as the first it will always hold a special place.

You’re Hooked Now Honey, Strap In:

Between the mixed obsession of Kingdom Hearts and Final Fantasy VII, video games quickly became one of the only things I talked about. I had thought I was obsessed before, but this took it to a whole new level of crazy. I started writing weird crack outtake reels from the games in the middle of classes, and would post little screen caps and fanart over literally everything I owned.

One day, I had out my handy outtake notebook during a bit of downtime in Honor Band (yeah, I’m a geek to the extreme), and one of my fellow trombonist’s decided it would be a jolly time to snatch the notebook out of my hands,run away with it and, start ripping the pages out and throwing them around the band room. Fortunately I had some pretty awesome friends, and they not only helped me to secure the notebook but also helped recover the missing pages. After class that day, a boy who played the trumpet shyly walked over to me and handed me back one of the pages that was still missing. He was obviously very nervous, and after handing the page back and accepting my very relieved and excited  ‘thanks dude!’ (I admit to not knowing his name at the time) he stood there awkwardly while I put away my instrument like he had something else to say but didn’t know how. I gave him a questioning look after noticing he hadn’t walked out yet and as I picked up my bag he followed after me into the hall. After a little while he finally fell into step beside me and asked, “so, you like Final Fantasy huh?” 

I don’t care how long I’ve known you, if you ask me about Final Fantasy you better be prepared to a.) Become my new best friend and b.) let me talk your ear off about for as long as you’re willing to sit and listen. I talked with my new friend until we had to part ways for different classes, and then later at lunch when he asked to join me and continue the conversation. I tell this story because a few months later, this same boy bought me a copy of Final Fantasy VIII and asked me to be his girlfriend. A damn diamond wouldn’t have worked better. 

Final Fantasy VIII was a bit of a mixed bag for me. Once again I was already hooked by the game’s opening, and the cinematic introductions of all the characters gave it an unexpected charm right from the start. That game eventually got very, very, veeeery, strange and I eventually stopped trying to make any sort of sense of the plot line and just sat back and enjoyed the ride. 

That is, until I got to the end of disk 3. I found myself horribly stuck on the battle with Adle where she has Rinoa captured. No matter how many times I tried it, I would get her down to the final phase and she would either Ultima wipe the party or Rinoa would die. I gave up on the game for a while, sick of the frustration, until I came across a Prima Strategy Guide for it while browsing a used bookstore. I normally refuse to touch any sort of guide book until after I’ve already been through the game once on my own, but I figured it wouldn’t be much harm since I was already more or less at what I thought was the end of the game (I was wrong). In flipping through the guide, I not only learned how to beat the boss, but discovered I had been playing the entire game using the combat system completely wrong. 

Somehow, I had managed to get that far in the game using only the Guardian Forces given to you at the start of the game and 2 others that you can encounter in the overworld and without stocking up on magic at all. To those familiar with VIII’s train-wreck of a combat system, you know that pairing GF’s and magic together directly effect a character’s stats- and no matter how leveled the characters are,if you don’t have the right combos of magic you have more or less no hope at most of the harder sections of the game. 

So, now I had the boss strategy, but still would have been unable to beat it because I didn’t have the magic required (the strategy was to cast Regen on Rinoa to ensure she stays alive). In the end I bought the guide, scrapped the file I had been playing on and started over from scratch,this time doing all the sidequests and such in the proper order. When I got to that boss again I wiped the floor with her, and was rewarded with the game getting even weirder. 

I still look back to the ending of FFVIII as one of my favorite ‘Ok WTF Just happened?!?!?!?!’ moments in media. Usually I piece together crazy stories pretty well, but even though I came to enjoy the game, I can’t say with any real confidence that I understand it at all. 

Forever Touched:

There was a pause in Final Fantasy games after I finished VIII at the start of ‘04. It wasn’t until almost a year later that I received IX as a Christmas gift. I had been passing on it because I was confused and unimpressed with the cover art, but now that I wasn’t the one paying for it I was willing to give it a chance. I held off starting until New Years, because my parents were letting me have a few friends over and I wanted to have the new experience surrounded for the first time with people just as obsessed with the series as I was. Even though it didn’t have a fancy opening, it wasn’t hard to fall in love with that game. I knew from the first few lines of dialog that my heart was gone, lost forever to endearing charm of that world and it’s characters. 

My friends and I were up all night with it. We had so much fun naming the characters and reading the text out loud ("Princess! It is I! The noble Betty!”).Then we all got so upset when Blank got petrified in the forest that we had to stop for the night. Right from the start, that game hit so hard in the feels. 

IX became not only my favorite game in the series, but my favorite game in general. There is so much emotion, charm, and soul in that game, and it touches on so many issues that hit so close to home that I tear up just thinking about it, Back in May of this year there was a mental health awareness speed run marathon fundraiser called RPG limit break  being held on Twitch.TV, and Final Fantasy IX was the closing game. I couldn’t think of any better way to spend about nine hours in the middle of the night than to re-live the best moments of my favorite game sitting on a couch with my best friend. 

Seeing everyone in the audience tearing up at crucial sections; the Black Mage Village, You Are Not Alone, the ending- made me feel less like an idiot for getting all emotional myself and my friend got to laugh at me freaking out over my favorite game cut-scene ever (The one where Alexander protects the city from Bahamut). When the game was over, the marathon had raised enough money for the runners to stand up and sing the ending theme of the game as a filled donation incentive. When the time came, not only the runners, but everyone in the room stood up to sing along. Melodies of Life, the ending theme, holds a very special place in my heart. Seeing all those people singing along, likely feeling similar things, turned me into a pathetic ball of mush. My friend laughed with me as I sang along with more tears than I think I’ve ever cried streaming down my face, and then I cried again when everyone went around saying their ‘thank yous’ to the people volunteering for the marathon and stood in lines to give each other hugs. 

It was one of the most touching moments of my life; and this game was at it’s center. 

Phew. Well I failed pretty hard at keeping that brief. Looks like this will end up as a series of sorts.  Tune in next time for adventures with Final Fantasy 6/3, X, X-2, and XII