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MidReal Story
The One %
Scenario:A forbidden love between 44 year old busty female who owns a cozy coffee shop in cozy and small coastal village in scotland and 20 year old curvy female exchange student who suddenly arrives to coffee shop because of pouring rain
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Maggie
She is the owner of a cozy coffee shop in a small Scottish coastal village. She is warm, independent, and nurturing. Maggie struggles with her large size, often feeling selfconscious about her appearance. She is drawn to her new employee, 20yearold exchange student Freya, who has just arrived from Canada due to bad weather. Maggie finds herself captivated by Freya's curves and infectious enthusiasm, feeling a spark of attraction towards her.
Freya
She is an exchange student from Canada, currently staying in the home of a local professor. She is curvy, outgoing, and adventurous. Freya takes a job at Maggie's coffee shop to earn money and explore her new surroundings. Despite the initial shock at Maggie's age, Freya feels a strong connection with her. The two quickly build a rapport based on shared interests and mutual attraction, leading to private moments away from the public eye.
I’ve been running my coffee shop in this cozy and small Scottish coastal village for five years now.
It’s been a struggle at first, but I’ve built a nice clientèle and I enjoy going to work every day.
I love being my own boss, making people happy with my homemade cakes and biscuits, and having a nice chat with the regulars.
The only thing that makes me a little sad, is that I’m there on my own.
I never found the one to share my life with.
I’m not really complaining, because I feel very independent and self-sufficient.
Still, sometimes I wish I had someone to share my thoughts, feelings, and experiences with.
Someone to hold me when I have a bad day or when I feel lonely.
Someone to kiss me goodnight and wake me up with sweet words in the morning.
I feel a pang of loneliness in my chest, but it’s nothing new.
It’s been there for a long time.
The door to my coffee shop opens and a girl runs inside, laughing and shaking the rain from her hair.
I smile at her as she approaches the counter.
"Hi," I say.
"Welcome to my coffee shop. Can I get you something to drink?"
"Yes, please," she says with a big smile on her beautiful face.
"I’ll have a hot chocolate. And can I get something to eat as well? Maybe some of those cookies?"
"You can have whatever you want, dear," I say, feeling a little flutter in my chest as I look at her.
I move behind the counter to prepare her drink, stealing glances at her while she settles onto a bar stool.
The steam rises from the milk as I heat it in a pan, and I notice her watching my hands work.
"What brings you to our village?" I ask as I measure some chocolate powder into a mug.
"I’m here for an exchange program," she says.
"I’m from Canada, and I’m studying abroad for a semester. I wanted to experience something new and different, so I chose Scotland."
I pour the hot milk into the mug and stir it up.
"That’s great," I say.
"Canada is a beautiful country. What part are you from?"
"I’m from Toronto," she says with a little accent that makes me smile.
"It’s a big city, but I love it there. It’s so different from here."
I nod as I hand her the mug of hot chocolate.
"Yes, it’s definitely different from here. But we like it here. It’s quiet and peaceful."
She takes the mug from me and our fingers brush against each other for a moment.
A small jolt of electricity runs through my body as she wraps both hands around the warm ceramic and takes a sip of the hot chocolate.
She closes her eyes in satisfaction and then opens them again, looking at me with those big brown eyes of hers. "Mmm, this is delicious," she says with a little smile on her face.
"Thank you."
"You’re welcome," I say with a smile of my own.
"I’m glad you like it."
I lean against the counter and watch her take another sip of her hot chocolate.
A little bit of chocolate powder sticks to her upper lip, forming a small mustache that makes me smile even more.
She notices me looking at her and quickly wipes away the chocolate mustache with her tongue, making me laugh out loud.
"Sorry," she says with a sheepish grin on her face.
"I guess I need to work on my hot chocolate drinking skills."
"No worries," I say with another smile.
"It happens to the best of us."
We chat for a while longer as she finishes her drink and cookies.
As she places the empty mug back on the counter, she hesitates for a moment before speaking.
"You know," she says softly, "I’ve always wanted to open a coffee shop like this back in Toronto."
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really? What’s stopping you?"
She shrugs.
"I don’t have the experience or the money to start one. But I love baking and making drinks. I think it would be so much fun to run a coffee shop."
I nod, understanding.
"Well, if you ever want to learn more about running a coffee shop, I’d be happy to teach you."
Her eyes light up.
"Really? You’d do that?"
"Of course," I say with a smile.
"I’d be happy to help."
She grins.
"Thank you. That would be amazing."
I smile back at her, feeling a warmth in my chest that I haven’t felt in a long time.
It’s nice to meet someone who shares my passion for baking and running a coffee shop.
As she finishes her hot chocolate, I notice her studying the pastry display case with genuine interest.
"What’s your favorite type of pastry?" she asks me as she looks at the display case.
"I love them all," I say with a smile.
"But if I had to choose one, I’d say my favorite is the apple cinnamon muffin."
"Apple cinnamon muffin? That sounds delicious. Can you show me how you make it?"
I laugh.
"Sure. But it might take some time."
"That’s okay," she says with a smile.
"I’ve got plenty of time on my hands. And besides, it would be great to learn how to make something new."
I smile back at her, feeling a warmth in my heart that I haven’t felt in a long time. "Okay," I say.
"I’ll show you how to make an apple cinnamon muffin."
As we walk into the back room of the coffee shop, she looks around curiously at all the mixing bowls and baking supplies.
"So, how did you get into baking?" she asks me as we begin measuring out ingredients for the muffins.
"Well," I say with a smile, "I’ve always loved baking. When I was younger, I used to help my mom in the kitchen all the time. She taught me how to make all sorts of things, from cookies to cakes to pies."
"That’s really cool," she says with a smile of her own.
"My mom never really baked much when I was growing up. She was always working late hours at her job, so we usually just ate takeout or microwave dinners."
I nod sympathetically.