#bookstore!au

[lilyan-art]

I am terrible at keeping the socials updated 🤣 I had issues with the size of this gif so I just…pretended this account didn’t exist for weeks 🫥

Basically my first attempt at frame-by-frame animation, I learned a lot doing this!

From the bookstore!AU, as always from @acrookedtouchofficial discord server, an amazing place filled with amazing people 🥰

[linksthoughtbrambles]

What about a zelink bookstore AU? 😁📚

Congratulations again!

Just Browsing. Again.

Link’s been browsing the shelves for nearly an hour, eyes passing over alternatingly flowery and raunchy titles (occasionally taking one off the shelf to read its description and flip through it before returning it with care), wracking his inadequate brain for the right words; if only words, maybe “would you like to get a cup of coffee?” or “what’s your favorite book?” would ever leave his mouth at all, he might be able to shop a little less and read a little more (even if she turned him down, at least he could stop hovering, right?).

Her footsteps precede her presence in the aisle and Link expects her to shelve a few things, but she stops quite near to him instead, saying, “Find anything?”—he goes numb and tingly in his hands and feet, swallowing what feels like a whole apricot that just won’t stay down, horror shooting through his torso like a downturned lance as he hears himself say, “romance novels”; she smiles with a frankly bewitching tilt of her chin toward his as she whispers, “I suppose you could call them that.”

Her face is so, so, close and it’s getting closer, and he’s sure now that she knows and she’s known the whole time and maybe all those small smiles he keeps seeing on her aren’t about the book on her counter but about him standing there swooning over her in shy, paralyzed silence and there—her lips—on his—with her arms around his neck and he has her pressed against the bookshelf before he realizes what he’s done, but he knows it’s okay when she breaks the kiss and whispers, “I like your taste in literature.”

[callipygian-fics]

hello stranger [alucard x reader]

summary: you’re quite lost. luckily, a devastatingly attractive bookstore owner is here to lend you a hand. and a couple of books.

genre/warnings: modern bookstore!au fluff + no warnings ^^;

word count: 2.3k

author’s note: i wrote this with some help and inspo from an online friend a couple months ago. it was meant to be the first part to a multi-part fic but it never came to fruition :’) i still think this is a lovely and atmospheric lil joint tho! pls enjoy n keep in touch! <33

“I’m either going in circles, or this is the fourth bookstore I’ve passed,” you muttered under your breath.

As the golden Munich sun dimmed into a frigid evening, you frantically rubbed your dry hands together for warmth and consolation. The October winds were beginning to pick up, sweeping the fallen leaves across the asphalt. Usually one would enjoy the pleasant autumn weather, but as you continued to walk across the same streets and turn the same corners, you came to a sore realization.

“And that must be the fifth one.”

Unfortunately, you must have been one of the few who don’t have the luxury to relax and stroll under the peachy sky. You were completely and utterly lost, running a losing race against the sun to get home before dark. In times like these, you thought perhaps taking the plunge into a foreign country that operated in a language you barely knew a lick of was more stress than it was worth. Whether it was when you ordered an espresso and received a cup of whole milk, or when you asked where the nearest train station was and were led to an art gallery, things were just not going your way.

And so, you arrived at the present moment, in which you found yourself at this same fucking crosswalk, in the middle of Germany, once again. Only now the sky was pinker. Your phone pinged with a low battery warning. You trudged along, and as you took your sixth turn into the front of this bookstore, you finally gave it a good glance in the hopes of finding an English-speaking stranger. Or, at the very least, an open power outlet.

The store was a small, quaint thing, almost hidden by the overgrowth of vines shrouding the two older buildings it stood in between. Peeking at the storefront awning, you read its name: Tepes Hold. It didn’t appear to be crowded at all. A bell above the doorway rang as you cautiously took a step inside, giving voice to your silent prayer that something finally happens in your favor.

Upon your entrance, you looked around, taking in the floor-to-ceiling shelves filled to the brim with books, old and new. The oaken floorboards creaked with every step you took down the narrow walkways towards the shelves. Towers of books of all different lengths and colors and bindings leaned against the walls, which hung a number of old paintings that held a sense of unknown familiarity. You took particular interest in an unframed sketch of an old castle, veiled in shadow and fog by the artist and in a fine layer of dust by time.

Still rapt, a figure emerged from behind a bookshelf. You turned in the direction of the shuffling to meet a tall and slender frame. As you shifted your gaze upwards, you came face to face with an angel, who, books in hand, smiled at you softly with pale lips sculpted from marble. His face was adorned by a few strands of golden hair reaching his shoulder, the rest bundled into a loose ponytail at the base of his head. Then, your eyes landed on his, pausing to peer through his wired glasses into the glowing shade of amber contained behind them. 

“Brauchst du hilfe?” 

You were startled by the smooth sound of his voice. But soon enough, you were distracted again as he shifted his stack of books to one arm and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, catching sight of the sleeve of his button-down shirt, muted green and slightly cuffed for convenience. It was loosely tucked into a pair of chestnut trousers that were tailored down to his ankles and followed into black oxfords with a dull shine of well use.

“Geht es dir gut?” 

He furrowed his brows as his generic customer service smile became a concerned one. You blinked once, then twice, before realizing that you had completely clocked out. In an instant, your cheeks burned.

“Oh! Uh...” 

You were a stuttering mess. Unknown to you, his concern turned into interest, tilting his head and patiently waiting for you to collect your scrambled thoughts.

“I- no. Um...” 

Your hands flew to your bag to fish out your phone as you frantically tried to find the street name where your flat sat. 

“Ich bin vom W-weg abgekommen.” 

You showed him your phone screen. 

“Ich muss... hierher gehen.” 

All of a sudden, a stream of words flung from his mouth. Your eyes darted back and forth as he spoke to grasp some semblance of meaning. First, you looked at his lithe hands, which were likely gestured towards certain directions. Then, you stared at the curve of his lips, which pillowed the richness of his voice. At last, you came to his eyes again, which calmly met yours as if he could see right through you.

You wordlessly rotated between the three, and by the time he was done, you were left squinting in confusion trying to decipher what exactly just happened. You quickly conceded and turned back to your phone, clumsily swiping through your homepage to find Google Translate.

“Do you speak English by any chance?” he inquired.

He stifled a grin when he watched your entire face light up. You eagerly nodded and felt the weight of a million clipped conversations lift from off of your shoulders.

“I speak English fluently,” he added, “so you can speak comfortably with me.” 

“Oh, thank God! I’ve been lost for the past three hours! My phone is almost dead and I was in a pinch for directions. I guess that’s what I get for trying to explore by myself.” 

You took a breath of relief, closing your eyes. You tilted your head back to face the ceiling, exhaling and letting the blood flow back down from your head before flashing a small, grateful smile for him. The man reciprocated it with a lopsided one of his own, treading a hand through his hair and letting out a quiet chuckle.

“I’m also assuming you aren’t German?” 

“Is it that obvious?”

The expression he gave you of amused incredulity spoke on his behalf: Yes, it was terribly and hopelessly obvious. Perhaps, he thought, he’d entertain you for a bit.

“If I may ask, what brings you here?”

“I’m here to finish my Master’s. Uh, I won’t bore you with the details, but there isn’t much in terms of research material back where I’m from for the subject I’m writing on, and I suppose Germany was just a better fit. So, yeah, I suppose I bit the bullet! I probably should've brushed up on my German before I came though. I actually almost minored in German in undergrad but it was a wise decision to keep it off for the sake of my GPA considering the fact that I can barely find my way home-”

The man listened with widened eyes and his mouth slightly ajar as he nodded along. It dawned on you that he asked purely out of curiosity, and he wasn’t looking to hear your abbreviated life story. 

“Sorry,” you exclaimed, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had a conversation with someone. Because of, you know, the language barrier and all.”

You laughed nervously before chewing on the inside of your cheek, waiting for him to cover for the awkward silence because you were painfully sure that you’d done your fair share of blabbing. A second or two passed, and he was still looking straight back at you. He stared like he delighted in seeing you in your nervous state. And truthfully, to him, a pleasant customer blabbing is far, far from the worst thing in the world.

The bookseller glanced to his side and covered his ever-growing smile with the back of his hand. He briefly cleared his throat before dropping his hand into his pocket and looking back at you. 

“What’s the subject?”

“Ah, Wallachian mythology. Actually, while I’m here-” 

You reentered your phone’s passcode and pulled up the titles of two books you had been looking to purchase. In a few hours from now, when you finally got home and reveled in hindsight, you’d slap yourself for getting off track and taking up even more of his time.

“I’ve been trying to find sources on the battles in Braila and Gresit. These two books in particular. I was wondering if there’s any chance you might sell them here?” 

He took a glimpse at your screen and raised his eyebrows.

“You’re in luck. I’m certain that we have them both in stock.” 

You followed closely behind him as he walked towards another bookcase. His shirt tightened across his back from where it met the waist of his trousers while he stretched upwards to slide one of the books from the top shelf.

“Book number eins, and...”

He then bent down to the second-to-last shelf, the seams of his pants splaying to accommodate his thighs as he crouched to slide the second book out.

“... Book number zwei.”

Though he gently handed them both into your arms, you stumbled from the sudden weight. They seemed lighter when he carried them. 

“And, if you could excuse me.”

He lifted the phone from your hand to inspect your screen further, scrolling down your notes. You could almost feel his cool fingertips graze yours, but you willed your mind off of the sensation.

“We might also have a couple of these other ones I see on your list. I’m not certain about this one here . . .”

Your gazes connected again for a fraction of a second.

“... But, unfortunately, I’m rather busy currently,” pointing his thumb at the stack of books he had been cataloguing earlier.

“Don’t worry about it! I can always come another time.”

“Perfect.”

There was a moment of stillness caught between your stares. The sound of a man in the back of the store yawning brought you back to reality.

“Could I pay for these right now?”

“I can keep them on hold for you. Are you still rushed to get directions home?”

“Oh! Right! I completely forgot. Give me a second.”

He handed you your phone, and you worked to reconfigure the map on your screen. Just as your fingers began to tap in your address, you felt him peer over your shoulder. The tips of his hair brushed against your collarbone, and his hand gingerly hovered over your torso. A waft of his cologne floated past your nose. He smelled homely and lambent, and faintly of cedarwood.

“Alright, I see.”

Your blush returned to match the brilliant reds of the early evening sky when you felt his warm breath on your neck. The sun was setting quickly and the wind had grown harsher, and you unconsciously widened the expanse of your neck toward him as if you craved his warmth instinctively.

“Then let’s have you on your merry way, shall we?”

You nodded. A few confusing minutes later of convoluted directions and your requests for him to repeat them just one more time, you decided that it was time to stop bothering the poor man. You placed a hand on your cheek, confirming that they had since cooled down.

“Thanks you- I mean, thank yous-,” you stuttered, “Thank you! So much. If I don’t die out there on my way home, I’ll be sure to come back to check out the books.”

[missing something because I’m using it for a class and don’t wanna get clocked for plagiarism but don’t worry it’ll be back soon]

“Don’t mention it. And please take this.”

He pulled a card from his shirt pocket and handed it to you. 

“It’s my card. In case you’re looking for anything in particular, let me know by call or email and I can check if it’s in stock before you spend an hour inevitably getting lost on your way here.”

You jokingly pouted, but you forfeited what was left of your pride to laugh a little. You accepted the card carefully, making sure not to brush his fingers again to save yourself the energy of fretting over it in the moments to come.

“Thank you so much, really. For the directions and the books and the consideration for my poor sense of direction.”

He waved it off and his smile widened a bit. The sun seemed to stop in its descent, for just a moment, to burn brightly one last time before the night stars could take its place.

“As I told you before, don’t worry about it. Get home safely. Have a lovely evening.”

“You too!”

You waved him goodbye and started to make your way home, heading up the street before you could even realize that his name wasn’t on the card. His eyes lingered on your back growing smaller and smaller until you slowly disappeared into the city. Accompanied by the howl of the wind, he reentered his store alone. 

Quietly, he resumed his cataloguing. By the time he was finished, the stars had risen and the clock had struck midnight, signaling the man to collect his belongings and return to his own flat. As he turned the lights off and locked the door, he passively wondered if you’d gotten lost again. Catching the nasty little thought, he exhaled into the icy night air.

“Stop it, Adrian. Absolutely not.”

A boyish grin flickered on his lips. He tugged at his coat collar and began to walk. Somehow, the stars were shining infinitesimally brighter tonight, but perhaps it was only noticeable to him.

final note: ahhh so exciting! my first ever fanfic!!! i took this note off the beginning bc i was scared ppl wouldn’t read this if they expected shit from someone’s first fanfic lolol but i hope u liked it!

[retvenkos]

“my love for you is beyond words.”

requested

WORKING IN A BOOKSTORE AND FALLING IN LOVE WITH THE SWEET EMMA HAWKINS HAS TO GO A LITTLE SOMETHING LIKE THIS...

and idk when this set of headcanons is set - high school, college, take your pick

okay, but emma is the softest and deserves someone equally as soft

so a bookstore au is perfect for her? only the best au for my girl.

so the bookstore you work at is quaint - definitely not a chain store, it’s locally owned and also does little cultural events like poetry slams and book readings

they also sometimes let people play music (usually guitar or piano, something soft) at nights, so aiden is the first one in the friend group to really know about the tiny bookstore 

oh, and the aiden/emma friendship is greatly underused, so i am using it here.

i mean, can you look at these two and tell me they wouldn’t be the closest out of the group? they would just understand each other. emma is super empathetic and aiden just needs someone he can sit in the silence with. brotp right there.

anyway, you are working at this bookstore and have been for quite some time when emma first enters

and, hey, you recognize her from berry high - you had english class together in your junior year.

and so when you’re ringing up the book she got (a pretty good one, if you’re being honest) you strike up a conversation with her - how has she been? how’d she find out about this place, anyway? any special reason for getting this book?

and, of course, emma is  s h y  and more than a little self-conscious, so she doesn’t say much other than answering your questions

but she’s blushing and ohmygod, she’s so cute?

so you make a mental note to talk to her again

and the next time you see emma, it’s not at the bookstore

maybe it’s school, the grocery store, the park, or the bus, but you see her and you say hi

and she smiles and greets you back, and she seems a little more at ease this time, so you get to talking a bit more

you ask how her book is

and how life’s been

and how she ended up crossing paths with you again

and she’s just so sweet and kind?

so you invite her to the poetry slam that the bookstore is doing

and yes, you’re planning on reading a little something of your own

and she tells you she’ll be there

and she brings michael with her, because these two are also really good friends fite me

and michael has an appreciation poetry, don’t even lie

and she is awed by your poetry

it’s just so beautiful and emotional? she can’t believe the two of you were in the same english class. how could she have been sitting next to such talent?

michael sees her awe struck face and pushes her to talk to you after the slam

and so she does

emma hawkins, a ball of nerves, walks up to you to tell you how talented you are

and you are flattered and you promise the next time she stops by the bookstore, you’ll have some more of your poetry for her to read

and so for the next couple weeks, emma will come in an a saturday and you’ll talk about life and what happened that week

and when she leaves you’ll slip her a piece of your poetry

and the next week she’ll bring it back but you’ll insist on her keeping it - you already have a copy anyway, and sharing your poetry is much more rewarding

“and when i actually publish a book one day, you can say you have the original copy.”

“and then i can sell it for millions one day to pay off my student loans.”

“those are high hopes for just little me.”

“i don’t think so.”

“oh?”

and then she  b l u s h e s 

and at some point she realizes that all of the poetry you’ve given her are love poems

and maybe she wonders if it’s not just a coincidence

either way, it takes caleb to tease her about it for her to really consider the possibility that you might like her

because she definitely likes you

it happened somewhere between the late night text messages, the bookstore meetups, and the endless conversations - she’s not exactly sure

but she knows she has a crush. and she has it bad.

meanwhile, you’re trying to figure out how to be more obvious while still keeping your interest veiled

and one day the two of you are talking and emma tells you that she’s noticed a recurring theme in your poetry

and she’s blushing and playing with the hem of her shirt, not looking you in the eye

“well, i guess i’ve been inspired, recently...”

“oh?”

“...by you.”

and she looks up at you, eyes big and you smile

and from that moment on, you two are the sweetest couple

AND FLUFF ENSUES.

-- taglist: @musicallisto // message me if you want to be added to the taglist!

[simplyclockwork]

falsification

AU + Trope + Prompt

This one was requested by @fandomchaosposts

AU: #7 – bookstore!AU

Trope: #6 – Fake Dating

Prompt: #2 – “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck this shit. Fuck.”

This ended up much longer than a drabble, and now I want to write a long one-shot (or more) on this 😅 Thought it would be fun to make Sherlock the eccentric bookstore owner here, one who prefers the comfort of casual, loose clothing and hiding amongst his books. 

Also, he has a crush on John because how can he not have a crush on the adorable budding author making his first big break?

--------

“Please, Sherlock?” John’s voice dipped into a pleading tone, thrumming with nervous energy as he followed the tall man around the bookstore. “Just for this one event—if I go stag, I know my mum is going to try and set me up with that awful Morstan girl again.” He faked a shudder, smiling when Sherlock let out a low chuckle as the man climbed up a small ladder set against the tall bookshelf.

“She is awfully boring,” Sherlock admitted, slipping a thick book back into its place. He tipped his head back to look down at John, brow quirked. “Just the once, you say?”

John bounced forward on the balls of his feet, gratitude sparking in his eyes. “Yes, just once. For the book signing.” He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. “If I don’t show up with a date, I’m doomed.”

Sherlock chuckled again, descending the ladder with a stack of books cradled in the crook of his elbow. “That seems rather dramatic, John.” His voice was amused, and he set the load in his arms down on a messy side table. “All right, John. I will accompany you as your fake boyfriend to your book signing.” His pale eyes sparkled with mirth. “If only to ‘save you’ from what you perceive as certain doom.”

John sighed out a relieved breath. “Thank you.” His words were fervent, and Sherlock offered a small smile in return.

x x x

The day of the book signing, Sherlock felt somewhat out of place. Standing in a sharp suit, his ordinarily unruly hair tamed into crisp curls with a ridiculous amount of product, he shifted on his feet, filled with nervous energy.

“Stop fidgeting,” John whispered, settling a hand on the small of Sherlock’s back. “You’ll blow our cover.”

Sherlock stuffed his own hands into the pockets of his dress pants, itching for the casual comfort of his well-worn slacks and button-up flannel. He resisted the urge to rock back on his heels and narrowed his eyes at a small, grey-haired woman making a sudden beeline toward them. A petite, blonde-haired young woman followed in her wake, sharp eyes locking onto John with evident hunger.

“Bloody hell,” John muttered. “Here they come.” Reaching out, he wrapped his fingers around Sherlock’s wrist. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck this shit.” His voice wavered with evident nerves. “Fuck! Quick, give me your hand!” Sherlock slipped his hand from his pocket and allowed John to tangle their fingers together. His heart leapt at the contact, and he swallowed down the rapid beat of his pulse as the two women reached them.

“Johnny!” The older lady exclaimed, reaching forward to pull him into a one-armed hug as John kept his hand locked with Sherlock’s.

“Hello, mum.” He replied into her shoulder, squeezing Sherlock’s fingers with a silent message. When they broke apart, John’s mother looked up to Sherlock, eyes narrowed.

“Hello, I don’t think we’ve met…” she offered a hand, which Sherlock shook with his free grip.

“Sherlock Holmes,” he replied, fighting the urge to squirm under her intense look.

“Sherlock owns this bookstore,” John broke in, coming to his aid. John’s mother smiled, but her eyes flickered between them, still narrowed.

“Ah, yes, lovely. Nice to meet you.” She smiled up at Sherlock, head tilted.

“Likewise, Mrs. Watson,” Sherlock replied, and she chuckled. The sound was so very like John’s own laughter that Sherlock blinked in surprise.

“Actually, it’s Ms. Watson,” she corrected. “But, please, call me Violet.”

“Of course, Ms. Wa—er, Violet.” Sherlock stuttered, face reddening. John cleared his throat and looked to the young blonde woman standing beside his mother.

“Hello, Mary,” he greeted her, to which the young woman grinned.

“John!” She gushed, leaning forward to offer her cheek. John hesitated, then dropped an air kiss to it with reluctance. “A book signing, how exciting! We must catch up over coffee so you can tell me all about it!” Mary’s eyes flickered to Sherlock, suddenly smug. Sherlock frowned at the look, hand tightening unconsciously on John’s. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Holmes.” She added, her tone making the words an afterthought. John shifted beside him, face pinched. Sherlock looked down to catch his helpless look. After a moment, he moved closer to John, releasing his hand to drape an arm over John’s shoulders.

“I believe it is time for the book signing.” He said, narrowing his eyes at Mary before turning back to face the man at his side. “John?”

John nodded, his relief evident. “Yes—of course. Yes.” He slipped out from under Sherlock’s arm and headed to the autograph table. Sherlock watched him go with a small smile before he caught Mary watching him with a hard face. He tossed a smug look in her direction and moved to follow John.

[spideyscnse]

hey everyone! thank you so much for the positive response on my peter parker fanfic, ‘sci-fi’ <3 i really appreciate it and it really really motivated me to write some more :)

however, i would really like some help—is there a way that i can reply to a comment using a side blog? spideyscnse is a side blog of mine and i’m wondering if there’s a way for me to respond to you guys’ comments? thank you all, have a lovely day :)

[leiasfanaccount648]

Worth Every Purchase

Bookstore Employee!Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

This is slightly based off a conversation I had with my friend (who didn’t work a bookstore btw lol). I really hope you all enjoy!

Happy Valentine’s Day!!

Pairing: Bookstore Employee!Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Nothing but utter fluff, maybe a slight curse word or two. A small innuendo at the very end.

Word Count: 1467

~~~~~

“C’mon, c’mon, where are you?”

If there’s one thing one should never, it’s leaving something to the last minute. Unfortunately, that’s what every human being has done at least once in their entire lives.

(Y/N) had less than a week to write the report due in her literature and film class. She had to read a book that was turned into a movie later on (reading the book first, and watch a movie that was later made into a book (watching the movie first). Luckily, she had read one of the books a couple years back, but she didn’t have a copy of it, much less remember almost every single detail.

At least she could still read and watch in the order she was told to do. If only she could find the books she was looking for.

“Are you kidding me? It’s going by author, and I’m in the non fiction section, so where the hell is it?”

And thankfully both books were about different topics (afraid points would get deducted if they were almost about the same thing), or she would be stressing herself even more.

“C’mon.. Farris.. Fexas.. Floares.. Aha! Forches! Found you.”

One book down, now one, that was probably on the other side of the store, to go.

After another 20 minutes of searching through almost every book cover in the thriller and mystery section, she finally found the other book she had chosen for her report. Hopefully the movie rentals store or Hulu would have at least one if not both of the movies.

She made her way to the checkout counter, second in line and admiring the bookmarks (grabbing one since she was going to need it), before someone spoke up.

“Miss! I can ring you up here.”

(Y/N) looked up and saw a young man smiling at her and gesturing her over to the register he was at. She smiled and made her way towards him, setting the books and bookmark down with a sigh.

“Hi.” She spoke softly, not wanting to be rude. The young man smiled back and began typing into the computer.

“Hi there, how are you today?”

“A little stressed but otherwise okay. You?”

“Not to shabby honestly, thank you.”

He chuckled softly, reaching for the bookmark and scanning it. “Do you have a rewards card or membership with us?”

(Y/N) shook her head, reaching into her purse to grab her wallet. “No, I don’t.” She gave a small smile. “This is my first time in this store.” She laughed softly, as if she wasn’t mentally freaking out about how big one of the books was (her guess was at least 500 pages).

The man reached for the books, scanning them as well. “That’s alright.” He typed into the computer. “Would you like one with us?”

She thought a moment before shrugging. “Maybe. Will you call or email me constantly?” She pulled out her credit card.

The man chuckled, shaking his head. “No, we don’t do that here, only for special holidays and sales. Unless you’re really lonely and would like us to.” He laughed softly, making (Y/N) as well.

“Well in that case I would love a membership.”

She may need to come back here for more books for her classes. Why not save some money?

“Sounds great. Can I have your name, phone number, and email please?”

After giving him the information, she handed him her card, sighing in relief when she saw that they weren’t that expensive.

The man put the books and bookmarks in the bag before pulling out the membership card and a pen. “Would you mind signing your name miss?”

She nodded and signed the rewards card before putting it in her wallet. He handed her the bag containing her books, still smiling sweetly. “Have a good day, miss.”

(Y/N) smiled back. “Thank you, you too.”

Now, to get home and finish that report.

A couple weeks later, (Y/N) was back in the bookstore looking for another book. Her best friend’s birthday was next week and she didn’t want to procrastinate anymore than she already was.

And who knows? Maybe that cute store clerk would be there again. Plus she still had that membership card to test out.

As she went down isle by isle, she couldn’t seem to find the book her friend was wanting. She even checked the sections that were the sub genres of the book just in case. Eventually, she went back to the section for the main genre of the book to make sure she didn’t by pass it, only to see the same store employee that she saw a couple weeks ago stocking books on some of the shelves.

He was obviously mouthing the words to the music playing in the store, almost making (Y/N) giggle at his quirk. Hey, maybe he knew where the book was. She walked over to him.

“Excuse me, can you help me find something?”

He was in the middle of placing a book on the shelf, placing it before turning to face her. “Of course.” He smiled as he recognized her. “What’s the title or author?”

After giving him both answers, he looks to the shelves behind him, seeming to to only glance at the covers before frowning to himself. “Not here..” He bit his lip, eye’s lighting up only a moment after before turning back to his cart full of books and searching through them.

(Y/N) took a second to admire his features. Curly brown hair, brown eyes, small yet seemingly strong stature, and lastly, the name tag on his uniform apron: Tom.

He grinned a moment later as he pulled a book out from the cart.

“Aha! Here we go.” He stood up straight and handed (Y/N) the book, smiling. “Knew I had glanced at it before.”

She smiled. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem, honest.”

His accent was another thing she had noticed unique about him, making her bite her lip shyly for a second. She looked down at the book, checking the price and almost grinning excitedly when seeing the clearance price tag. His voice brought her back to the conversation.

“Here, I can check you out real quick.” Tom gestured behind him where the cash registers on the other side of the book shelf. (Y/N) had to replay the sentence in her head, blushing when she realized what he meant.

“Oh! Yes, uh, if you wouldn’t mind.” She laughed softly, feeling suddenly (but only slightly in her words) nervous around him.

Tom walked to the register with her, leaving the cart of books in the isle since he would be back for them in a minute. “So how are you today, miss?” He said as he got behind the counter and started typing into the computer.

“Good, thank you. Yourself?”

“I’m doing good as well. It’s nice to see a friendly face again.” He smiled at (Y/N), making her blush, before grabbing the book she had placed in front of him. “Do you have the rewards card I gave you?”

(Y/N) nods, reaching into her purse and pulling out her wallet before handing him the card. “I sure do.”

Tom typed the card number into the keyboard. “Well, miss (Y/N) (L/N), your total is going to be 15.76.” He smiled as he read out her name and put the book in a plastic bag along with the receipt.

(Y/N) blushed a little, handing him some cash. “Thank you,” she paused, glancing at his name tag. “Tom.” She giggled softly, smiling softly.

Tom gave her membership card back along with her change. “It’s my pleasure.”

Placing her change back in her wallet, Tom glanced to the side before speaking.

“Have you been getting any emails or calls from us?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, how would you like one from me?”

(Y/N) felt her heart rate speed up, shocked that someone like him would even say something like that to her. She remained calm, at least on the outside.

Biting her lip, she looked up at him, smiling shyly. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

Tom grinned, grabbing a nearby coupon and turning it over to write on the back of it. He placed it in the bag her book was in.

“Feel free to text me anytime.”

He handed her the bag, sending a cheeky wink at her, making (Y/N) blush more. “I’m sure I will.” She took the bag, telling him goodbye before leaving the store with a smile on her face.

Maybe there was more to check out at the store than just books. And maybe that membership can give her special rewards there too.

[unashamed-shipper]

That Old Book Smell

Punk!Natsu and Old Soul!Lucy drabble commission for @yourdarebear! Thank you so much for the commission, Darrah! <3 

Enjoy!!

Work was shit, and Natsu is having none of it. He hated working at this bookstore as if he were some kind of nerd or something. And the looks the old ladies give him make him want to scream. The boss hired him even though he has an eyebrow piercing and gages, right? So why did they feel the imminente desire to make comments about losing his job?  

Huffing, he pushed a book back into its’ place as he admired the cover. If everyone who read the book knew that the main character died in the third book, more people would put it down before ever picking it up. As he scaled down the ladder to pick up another novel to put on the shelf, a soft bell rang signifying the opening of the front door.

A young woman who looked not much older than himself walked in with a look of complete peace on her face. She began to almost float through the room as if enchanted by a spell as she looked around with a gasp. Natsu raised an eyebrow and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Can I help you?” he asked, and her eyes snapped to his. They were brown, he noted, and kept that in his brain for safekeeping just in case he needed it again.

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” she replied, her voice slightly breathy yet grounded, “I’m on my break from work and wanted to come in to smell the old books.”

Natsu didn’t reply. He didn’t want to be or seem rude. She seemed nice and all, but smelling old books sounded like something a person would do if they were a little off.

Turning away, he heard her voice again as she rifled through the classics. Picking one off the shelf and flipping through the pages, the young woman sniffed the air above the book and sighed dreamily as if she had a crush on the novel. Natsu’s eyes cut to the girl before he scoffed, continuing his work.

“You can really tell a lot about a book by it’s smell, you know,” she said with a smile, and Natsu whipped around with a retort on his tongue. His mouth closed, however, when he saw the gentle smile on her lips.

“I don’t mean to insult ya, lady, but you’re weird.” Natsu scratched the back of his neck while looking at her under lidded eyes. Coffee time was near, but he wouldn’t want to doctor it up when she was around.

“Rude,” she said, sticking her tongue out at him before snapping the book shut and going for the next one. Natsu sighed, turning back to his task and looking up at the clock with hope that she would leave sooner rather than later. He enjoyed his time alone in the shop when there were no customers, as small of a chunk of time it may be.

Suddenly he felt someone behind him, and he whirled around to find the girl looking at the book in his hand.

“Which one is that?” she asked, and Natsu fought an eye roll. Didn’t she knew he was working?

“Catcher in the Rye, second edition.” He handed it to her and watched her open it and press the pages to her face softly, breathing in all the while.

“You gotta smell this one!” she said with a grin, placing the book near his face. Her eyes were even brighter than they were when she first looked at him, which threatened to pull a blush out of him. Natsu’s instincts took over and he inhaled through his nose quickly. His nose picked up on that old book smell, which he hated to admit he liked, but something was different about it now.

It had a touch of vanilla and red velvet cake to it now, likely because of her own scent integrating into the book–and because they were standing closely. Stepping slowly nearer,  he smelled the book once more. The scent of ink wafted off the page and tickled his senses, and the girl giggled when he turned away to sneeze. Natsu chuckled along with her, shocked that he had dropped his guard for once around a customer.

“What’s your name?” Natsu asked, holding out his hand. To his surprise, she reached his hand and took it between both of hers, grinning at him once more with that soft smile.

“Lucy. And I know your name’s Natsu,” she replied, pointing to his nametag. Dropping his hand, she fished her phone out of her pocket and checked the time.

“Oh! I’ve got to get back to work. It was nice to meet you, Natsu. I’ll be back tomorrow!” Lucy waved goodbye as she turned away and ran out the door back to work. Natsu watched her golden hair shimmer in the sunlight before she disappeared, and he clutched his chest with an intake of breath.

And that was when Natsu Dragneel knew he had it bad.

Thank you so much for the commission, my friend! I enjoyed writing it sooo much!! 

Commissions are open if you are interested–you can find the link on my bio page!