#the librarian fic

[noodles-and-tea]

Back at it with my enchanted merthur shenanigans

#when Merlin goes to work #(I am undecided on what he does but I think he does have a job (probably a librarian I’d that’s not TOO cliche…)) #he sets Arthur up with a bunch of history books and documentaries to try get him up to date (as much as he can) #and in the evenings they watch all Merlin’s favourite tv shows and movies #I can’t pick what kinds of movies Merlin and Arthur like #I get the feeling they both like pride and prejudice but I’m also biased #I think Arthur would like murder mysteries #ALSO If anyone’s got any fics where Merlin introduces Arthur to modern society please please PLEASE GIVE THEM TO ME #my art #bbc merlin #merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #merthur

[libraryofgage]

Librarian Steve :)

Was talking to a friend about people (specifically this one kid that gives such Dustin energy hfjdks) I meet at work (I'm a librarian) and that evolved into this plot bunny so:

Librarian Steve, rock star Eddie, and the 5 times Steve pretends he doesn't know who Eddie is while they flirt + 1 time Steve reveals he knew about Eddie's rock star status the whole time

There is also, definitely, at some point, going to be a second part where the kids keep just barely missing Eddie and refuse to believe Steve is actually dating anyone but especially not Eddie Munson of all people

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't

One

Steve stares at the man on the other side of the circulation desk. He's wearing a Metallica shirt, ripped jeans, a guitar pick necklace, clunky rings on each finger, and an expression that says he's bracing himself for something painful.

Here's the thing: Steve knows who Eddie Munson is. It's hard to listen to alternative rock or punk or any other genre like that and not know Eddie Munson. It's hard to be a librarian who works primarily with kids in middle school and high school, all going through that painful, angsty phase that they express through music, and not know Eddie Munson.

So, yeah, Steve takes one look at the admittedly (incredibly) attractive guy and immediately knows he's Eddie Munson. Like, of Corroded Coffin fame. Of Rock n Roll Hall of Fame fame. Of platinum-level album sales fame. Of--okay, his point has probably been made.

Anyway, yeah, Steve knows this is Eddie Munson, and while he'd love to say he's a fan and smile at Eddie and maybe ask for an autograph, Steve also grew up as a Small Town Rich Kid. So he knows that look on Eddie's face, the one that says he's bracing himself for someone to start fawning over him and potentially ask for uncomfortable favors or his number or any other request that's definitely crossing the line into invasive.

Steve easily makes the decision to pretend he doesn't recognize Eddie. So, he puts on his customer service smile and says, "Hello, how can I help you?"

The sheer relief in Eddie's eyes is more than enough to tell Steve he made the right choice. "Right, uh, this is my first time here," Eddie says, shifting slightly before placing his hands on the counter and drumming his fingers.

"Oh, congratulations," Steve says, his tone and smile becoming more genuine. "Did you come here to print something?"

Eddie shakes his head, reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a library card. "My friend has, like, a...hold? Yeah, a hold on something and asked me to pick it up," he explains.

Steve nods once and takes the card when Eddie offers it. He scans it and watches the computer load for a few seconds before opening an account window for someone named Asher Katz. "Since you aren't the cardholder," Steve says, navigating to the "Additional Information" tab in the account, "I'll need you to tell me the four-digit pin or code word connected to the account."

He clearly wasn't expecting that requirement, and Eddie flounders for a moment. "Is that a requirement?" he asks.

With an apologetic smile, Steve nods. "Yeah," he says, stretching out the word as he tries to think. "Oh, you could also call him and have him tell me the pin. Then I could confirm that it's okay for you to check out materials on his behalf."

"This is a lot of hoops for a book," Eddie says, frowning slightly as he takes out his phone.

"We have to make sure people's materials are secure. Also, we have to keep track of what people check out for the library's stats report at the end of each quarter."

Eddie looks like he understands about half of that, and Steve once again flashes an apologetic smile. After a few taps on the screen, Eddie glances around the library, ensuring it's empty, before putting the phone on speaker. The moment it picks up, and before Asher can speak, Eddie says, "Hey, man, I'm at the library. Can you tell, uh--" Eddie looks up to check Steve's nametag "--Steve what your pin is so I can check that book out."

A few seconds pass before Steve hears a sigh on the other end of the phone. "1234," Asher says.

"Seriously?" Eddie asks.

Steve glances at the account page, confirms the pin, and nods. "Could you also provide me with your code word?"

"Password."

"Dude!" Eddie says, staring at the phone like he's once again being reminded that his friend is a dumbass.

Steve checks the account again and nods once more. "Great, thank you. Could you confirm that...," Steve trails off, looking at Eddie expectantly.

Eddie blinks like he forgot Steve didn't know who he was and hesitates before clearing his throat and quietly saying, "Eddie."

"Thanks," Steve says, flashing another smile before looking at the phone and continuing, "Can you confirm that Eddie here is allowed to check out holds on your behalf?"

"Uh, yeah, that's fine, man."

"Great, thank you," Steve says, checking the card number once more before heading to the hold shelf behind the desk. He crouches and starts scanning stickers on the spines for Asher's last name and the last four digits of his number. Behind him, he hears Eddie say goodbye, his voice sounding a little strained for reasons Steve can't really figure out at the moment.

He finds the right book after a few moments and pulls it off the shelf. "Here it is," he says, walking over to the desk and pulling up the check-out window on his computer. He scans the library card once more, carefully pulls the sticker off the spine, and scans the book.

"It's due in two weeks, but if your friend needs more time, he can just give the library a call," Steve explains, passing the book and card back to Eddie with a smile. "Was there anything else I could do for you?"

Eddie just stares at him for a few seconds, his cheeks looking a little pinker than before, and Steve wonders if the building's A/C somehow gave up on life. Again. But he can hear it running so that definitely isn't it. "Uh, nope, that's it," Eddie says, gripping the book tightly in his hands, his rings pressing into the cover. "Thanks, Steve, appreciate it."

"Of course, man. Have a good day," Steve says with a genuine smile and wave as Eddie heads toward the door.

With a slightly awkward wave back, Eddie walks out the door, glancing back over his shoulder once before the door completely shuts. Once the library is empty again, Steve hears the door to the backroom open, and Robin practically slides up to the counter, leaning onto it next to him.

"Was that?" she asks. Steve instantly translates the question in his head: Was that Eddie fucking Munson?

"Yep."

"And did you?"

And did you just pretend you didn't know him?

"Yep."

"Did he?"

Did he catch on?

"Nope."

"Do you think?"

Do you think he'll be back?

Steve shrugs, glancing over at her. "Don't know," he says, pausing for a moment before adding, "He's hotter in person."

Robin barks out a laugh. "Maybe you'll actually get to flirt next time," she says, and Steve grins at her, kind of hoping she's right.

Two

Eddie returns exactly two weeks later, and Steve is lucky enough to once again be working a desk shift when he walks through the door. He's wearing a Nine Inch Nails shirt this time, and his hair is pulled back into a messy bun with strands escaping to frame his face. He goes up to the counter, focused on Steve and completely ignoring Robin sitting at another computer, and sets the book down. "I wanna return this. And get a library card for myself," he says.

Steve can't help a clearly amused smile as he takes the book and scans it in. "Do you have an ID with you?" he asks, sliding the book along the desk to rest next to Robin.

He ignores the glare she shoots at him before grabbing the book to place it on a reshelving cart for later.

"Yeah, do I need anything else?" Eddie asks.

As Steve shakes his head, he leans over to grab a library card application from a small organizer. He places it in front of Eddie and passes him a pen as well. "Just fill that out," he says, leaning forward on the counter as Eddie picks up the pen.

"So, uh, what can I do with a library card?" Eddie asks, glancing up at Steve briefly before focusing on carefully writing. His letters are blocky but awkward like he's consciously thinking about how he's writing each one.

Maybe he just doesn't want to risk his writing being recognized, too? From what Steve remembers of the signatures he's seen, Eddie's handwriting is fairly distinctive.

"You can borrow up to 75 materials at one time, place items on hold, use the computers, and you get one dollar of printing credit that renews each day," Steve lists, tilting his head slightly as he watches Eddie write.

"That's it?"

Steve snorts, raising an eyebrow at Eddie when he looks up. "Oh, that's not enough for you?" he asks, unable to help a slight grin, "You can use it at any library within our system, too. So you'll still have options if you get banned from this one."

"Oh? And what would I be banned for?" Eddie asks, his writing pausing long enough to meet Steve's gaze once more and smirk at him.

"I wonder," Steve says, not missing the way Eddie's gaze drops to his lips for less than a second before moving back up.

Holy shit, he's flirting with Eddie Munson.

"I can also help you find books to read based on what you've liked previously," Steve adds, somewhat clumsily pulling back from the flirting. It's only Eddie's second time here, and he doesn't want to let himself get too caught up in...well, Eddie when there's no guarantee he'll be back.

Eddie hums softly as he looks back at the application. "Oh? What would you recommend for me?" he asks.

"What's your favorite book?"

"The Hobbit."

"What did you like about it?"

"The adventure and the characters."

"Do you prefer fantasy? What about sci-fi?"

"Yeah, those are fine."

Steve hums softly, thinking as Eddie sets the pen down and slides the application to him. "Thanks. I also need to see your ID," Steve says, opening a drawer in the desk and pulling out a library card. He scans it, a new account window popping up and waiting to be filled out.

"What's the ID for?" Eddie asks.

"To confirm that you live in our service area," Steve explains, taking the ID when Eddie offers it. He glances at the photo briefly, confirming that it is, in fact, Eddie Munson, and then double-checks the address. It matches what Eddie wrote on the application, so he nods and slides the ID back to him.

"That's it?"

Steve nods, beginning to type Eddie's information into the account page. "Yeah, that's it," he says, glancing up and smiling at Eddie, "Anyway, I think you'll enjoy the Murderbot Diaries. It's about a cyborg that hacks its control module, thinks about maybe going on a killing spree, and then discovers TV instead. It then just goes on adventures through space while fighting, like, capitalism and corporations."

"Sounds pretty badass," Eddie says, leaning forward on the counter like he wants to get a peek at the computer. "How long is it?"

"It's mostly novellas, so they're quick reads."

"Got any copies here?"

Steve hums, entering the last of Eddie's information. "I can check," he says, "but first, I need a code word for your account. Like, if you forget your pin or have someone else come pick up a hold, this word will confirm it's you."

Eddie thinks for a few seconds, his gaze dropping to Steve's nametag once more. "Stevie," he says.

Steve's fingers falter, accidentally typing an incomprehensible key smash into the information field. He glances up at Eddie. "...as in Stevie Nix? Don't forget, this has to be something you'll remember," he says, raising an eyebrow.

With a playful grin and a wink, Eddie says, "Well, I think you're pretty unforgettable, Stevie."

A beat passes as Steve stares at Eddie, feeling a rush of heat to his cheeks. He clears his throat and looks back at the computer, hesitating for a second more before typing "Stevie" into the field and saving the account. When he's done, he slides the card to Eddie along with a Sharpie. "That's your card, please sign on the back."

He notices Eddie stiffen at the request, but Steve doesn't comment. As he instead searches the library's catalog, he tries to ignore the sheer panic coming from Eddie as he tries to figure out how to sign the card. Eventually, Eddie picks up the Sharpie and writes his name in the same awkward, blocky writing he used for the application.

"So," Steve says, getting Eddie's attention once more, "we don't have any copies of the first book here, but I can put it on hold for you. It should be here in around four days, and you'll get an email when it's available. Does that work?"

Eddie nods as he places the Sharpie down. "Sure, I'm happy to swing by and pick it up," he says, his tone and smile and the playful look in his eyes telling Steve there are more reasons than that for him to come by the library.

And as Steve places the book on hold for Eddie, he can't help a tiny, eager smile.

Three

The D8 sits innocently on the counter in front of Steve, marbled colors of blue and red with streaks of gold to complement the gold-painted numbers. Steve had immediately recognized it as Will's when he was cleaning the meeting room, and he knew the kid was probably losing his mind right now searching for it. He feels kind of bad knowing Will is going to lose all hope of finding it before his next visit to the library.

At the same time, though, he's looking forward to the expression of sheer joy on Will's face when he next comes in and Steve gives it back. Maybe it'll even score him a bonus point with Mike, and he'll be a little less of an asshole. Though, knowing Mike like he does, Steve is sure he'll just get jealous that Steve made Will smile like that instead of himself.

That kid is incredibly skilled at finding new grudges to hold.

"Whatcha got there, Stevie?"

Steve blinks, looking away from the D8 to find Eddie leaning on the counter, a familiar grin tugging at his lips. His hair is loose today, falling over his shoulders, and he's boldly wearing a Hellfire Club shirt, like he's confident that Steve won't recognize any of Corroded Coffin's merch.

Which, sure, Steve is great at pretending by now. Especially after he and Robin made a bet on whether Steve could keep the secret until Eddie asked him out. Steve has incredible faith in himself; Robin says he's too dumb and gay to last that long. So far, after around two months and multiple visits from Eddie, Steve is still going strong.

"A D8," Steve says, holding it between his thumb and forefinger so Eddie can see it clearly. "One of the kids left it behind yesterday."

"They were playing D&D here?" Eddie asks, tilting his head slightly as he holds his hand out.

Steve drops the dice into his hand, watching as Eddie inspects the gold numbers and hums softly with appreciation. "I host a weekly D&D program," Steve explains. "A group of regular kids plays, and they were getting a little disruptive when they played in the common area--" Steve gestures to the cluster of tables where the kids used to set up "--and the program gives them the meeting room for a whole afternoon."

Eddie looks up at him like he's just said he's a volunteer firefighter on the weekends. It's not an awe and appreciation that Steve really deserves, but he also can't help the slight puff of his chest when it's coming from Eddie. "Do you play, too?" Eddie asks.

"Sort of?" Steve frowns slightly, trying to remember how Dustin and Will explained his role during the campaign to him. "I'm, like, extras. Their DM, Will, wanted his, uh, NPCs? Yeah, NPCs. He wanted the NPCs to feel more real, so he'll give me, like, a little script before each session and then have me voice the NPCs and give me signals to guide my interactions."

"Signals?"

"Yeah, like, if I'm a shop owner and the characters bargain for stuff. He'll give me a signal of when their, like, rolls are effective or when they suck. And if I'm a villain NPC, he'll give me a signal of when to die and give dramatic monologues," Steve explains.

And Eddie grins again, his eyes practically sparkling with amusement and curiosity. "I kinda wanna hear a dramatic monologue," he says, propping his chin in his palm and looking at Steve expectantly.

He's clearly settled in to watch a show, and Steve isn't one to disappoint. Steve does a quick sweep of the library and confirms that it's just as empty as he remembers. Then, he sits up a little straighter in his chair, clears his throat, and tries to remember his whole dying monologue from the most recent session.

When he speaks, it's with a raspy voice, laced with pain and anger at being defeated, "Curse you, adventurers! You may have won the battle, but the war! The war yet rages, and you will be caught in its carnage! Savor this victory now, for it will be your last, and you will fa-"

Steve cuts off, grinning when Eddie blinks and pouts. "Why'd you stop?" he asks.

"Mike's character killed me before I could finish. Said my monologue was boring."

Eddie snorts, raising an eyebrow at that. "It sounds like your monologue was going to reveal info about the BBG."

"Yep. It was, but Will refused to tell them what the rest would've been, and Dustin threw his dice at Mike for killing me."

"He's lucky it was only that," Eddie says, completely serious, "I might've just killed him."

Steve can't help laughing, imagining Max leaping over the table to tackle Mike to the floor. She's done it before, actually, and the only thing that keeps her from attacking again is the knowledge that Steve will ban her from the library for at least a month if she gets violent again.

"He's lucky none of them want to be temporarily banned," Steve says.

"Oh? That's all it takes to get banned?" Eddie asks.

Steve smirks at the teasing lift to Eddie's question. "Yep, so you'd better watch yourself, Munson. I expect you to be on your best behavior," he says.

"I've never been very good at behaving."

"Great, you'll fit right in with the kids."

He looks up to see Eddie's smile growing wider, and Steve suddenly finds himself wondering how it would feel to kiss that smile away.

Four

Something library school never prepared Steve for is how overwhelmed certain days would make him. That's the thing about working with the public: some days are just never-ending, a line of patrons needing something practically wrapping through the stacks, meaning Steve can't turn off his customer service voice and smile.

Usually, he'll just escape to the back, lock himself in the employee bathroom, and take five minutes to cool down. Robin has gotten great at knocking on the door when the five minutes is up, pretending she needs to use the bathroom so the other staff members don't suspect Steve of breathing away a breakdown.

Today, though, Steve can't hide in the bathroom because of the music Robin is playing in the back. It's grating on his ears, scratching against his brain and down his spine like nails on a chalkboard, made all the worse by his interactions with an older patron with a voice that was rough and somehow rounded with sharp edges at the same time.

If Steve asked, Robin would definitely turn off the music, but he also saw her tense shoulders, how on edge she was, and how the music was the only thing helping her calm down. So Steve couldn't. Instead, he just said he was going to shelf-read the non-fiction section.

Because nobody goes into the non-fiction section. At least, nobody goes to the part of the section filled with encyclopedias. It's a safe corner, tucked into the back of the library where few people wander unless they're desperate for an outdated book of information that has no real bearing on their life.

So here Steve is, sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest and his eyes closed. This part of the library is quieter, but he can still hear the general ambiance of the building: people talking in hushed voices, the keyboards clicking as people type, chairs scraping against the floor as people pull them out.

And quiet footsteps coming closer. They're accompanied by the gentle sound of metal bouncing against itself. Steve doesn't open his eyes, but he does know that it's Eddie, and he's not at all surprised that Eddie managed to find him deep in the stacks.

It makes him feel a little warm, actually.

When Eddie reaches him, he doesn't speak. He just sits next to Steve, close enough for Steve to feel his presence without their shoulders touching. And he seems content to stay in silence for as long as needed, but Steve doesn't want silence. He wants to hear Eddie's voice; maybe it will override the discomfort of the music and the patron from earlier.

"Could you talk?" Steve asks, his voice soft and barely audible.

But Eddie hears him and scoots a tiny bit closer, letting their shoulders brush.

"I have opinions about library shelving because of you now. Like, why are science fiction and fantasy shelved together as one category? They're two different genres; they represent different things. One is a reflection of our society and all that it could be, an escape into something new, and the other is a reflection of what our society was through the eyes of a new world. And, like, it's not even the ones you think. They both embody different lessons and values and pairing them together is, like, demeaning to the hallmarks of the genres and what they can do for readers."

Yeah, that definitely sounds like an opinion about library shelving and cataloging. Steve can't help a soft laugh escaping him as he finally opens his eyes and looks at Eddie. "What started this?" he asks.

"There are Star Trek novels right next to, like, Seven Blades in Black on the shelves, Stevie. It's horrendous. What the fuck?"

Steve smiles a little, gently knocking their elbows together. "Unfortunately, I can't control how our cataloging department works," he says.

"Sounds like a skill issue to me," Eddie says, "Maybe you should just get good."

Steve barks out a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand at how loud it sounds. He glares at Eddie, his eyes holding no real heat.

Eddie grins right back and leans in a little closer. "Feeling better, sweetheart?" he asks, his voice soft and gentle and brushing against Steve's brain like a cool stream of water on a hot day.

It makes his shoulders relax, something in his stomach uncurling and draining all the tension from his muscles. "Yeah," he replies, "thanks."

"Anytime, Stevie," Eddie says, smiling at Steve like he's capable of hanging stars in the sky, like he'd do a backflip with a broken spine if Steve asked.

And Steve...Steve finds himself getting lost in Eddie's eyes, and he has no plans to find his way out anytime soon.

Five

Most of the library staff hates reshelving books, but Steve loves it. He doesn't have to use his brain beyond remembering the alphabet, and he can listen to music while he works, easily zoning out so the time passes quickly.

Which is what's happening now. He's probably been shelving for a while, but he's been listening to a Corroded Coffin playlist the entire time, humming along to Hellfire and Chains. His head is bobbing along to the music as he works, and he turns to grab another book off the reshelving cart only to find Eddie standing right behind him.

Steve jumps, his heart leaping into his throat as he chokes on air and Corroded Coffin notes. Eddie is staring at him with wide eyes, somewhere between afraid and infatuated, and Steve can't help asking, "What the fuck, man?" in a whispered voice.

"Whatcha listening to, Stevie?" Eddie asks, ignoring Steve's question.

Oh. If he admits to knowing Corroded Coffin's music, then he'll probably be giving up the whole "I know you're famous" thing, and based on Eddie's somewhat terrified look, that's not a great idea right now. But he also can't lie about the music because Eddie's going to recognize his own songs.

"Uh, Corroded Coffin, I think? I heard Lucas playing one of their songs. It sounded catchy and he sent me a playlist he'd made on Spotify," Steve explains.

It's not a lie, technically. That is how he discovered Corroded Coffin, but that was almost two years ago now.

"And, uh, what do you think?" Eddie asks, glancing at the earbuds still playing in Steve's ear.

Steve studies him for a moment before smiling. "They're really good," he says, turning around to continue shelving books. "I like stuff from their second album best so far."

"Do you usually listen to metal and rock?" Eddie asks, glancing at the shelving cart before passing Steve another book.

Steve almost tells Eddie to let him do the shelving, but then he sees that Eddie passed him the correct book for this section, so he bites back the words. Instead, he nods and crouches to slide the book into a bottom shelf. "Yeah. More older stuff, I guess. Guns N' Roses, Metallica, Nine Inch Nails, Queen. That kind of stuff," he says.

"Holy fuck, you're perfect," Eddie says, his voice soft and full of awe and Steve is about to laugh when Eddie adds, "Marry me."

Steve blinks, nearly losing his balance and falling on his ass. He saves himself at the last minute, quickly standing up again so he can look at Eddie. "Seriously?" he asks, wondering if maybe he had just misheard.

He did not. And this is proven by Eddie moving around the shelving cart, grabbing Steve's hand, and getting down on one knee. "Incredibly. Your music taste is fucking immaculate, sweetheart. Also, you're funny, hot, and sweet, and I've recently developed a librarian kink, I think. So. Marry me," Eddie says before using his teeth to pull off one of the chunky rings on his left hand so his right hand doesn't have to let go of Steve.

He then holds the ring up, and Steve really shouldn't find that as hot as he does. Like. Really hot. And he almost considers saying yes. But then he fully processes Eddie's words and almost laughs. "You've developed a librarian kink? So, what, you'll drop me the moment another librarian starts ranting about the Dewey Decimal system?" he asks.

"Okay, fair," Eddie says, nodding once. "Let me rephrase that. I've developed a Librarian Steve Harrington kink. Only you, big boy. Nobody curses out the Dewey Decimal system like you, sweetheart."

That might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to Steve, actually. "It's a shitty cataloging system," he says without thinking.

Eddie nods in agreement, still on one knee, still holding up the ring (it's shaped like a coffin, now that Steve spares it more than a quick glance) and still looking up at Steve with an infatuated smile. "It is," he agrees, voice a little softer than before like he's ready to just kneel through Steve's passionate rant about it.

And Steve thinks that might be the final straw for him. "I'd prefer at least one date before marriage," he says, grinning down at Eddie and pulling him back to his feet.

Eddie follows his lead, standing a little too close considering Steve is, technically, still at work. He turns Steve's hand over so it's palm up and drops the ring into it. "Of course, Stevie. How about lunch tomorrow? My treat," he offers.

Of course, Steve says yes.

+ One

"I still think there are funnier ways to tell him," Robin says, crossing her arms and pouting as Steve leans against the counter, his back to the door.

Steve sticks his tongue out at her. "You're just mad you lost the bet," he says. Telling her she lost had made Steve's entire week, especially since it means Robin is finally (finally!) going to dress up with Steve the next time they go to a basketball game together. He's got a jersey and shorts ready for her; he's had them ready since the first game he invited her to. They have her name across the back, are the ugliest shade of mustard yellow he could find, and match his perfectly.

"That jersey is the work of the devil," she says, her nose scrunching in disgust at the thought of it.

Steve just grins. "You never know, maybe a nice girl will be enraptured by your awkward lesbian swag," he says.

Robin is about to answer when she looks over Steve's shoulder and grins, her eyes lighting up. Steve looks over his shoulder to see Eddie smiling at him. "Hey, Stevie," he says.

And here it is. The moment of truth. Steve grins right back at Eddie and turns around, letting him see the graphic on his shirt. It's one he bought at a Corroded Coffin concert a year ago. It has the band's first album cover emblazoned across it with Eddie front-and-center, playing his guitar with the other band members around him as bats swirl in a red haze above their heads.

Eddie stares at the shirt, his smile freezing on his face and his body tensing. Panic starts to fill his eyes, and he glances up, looking ready to explain himself only to stop when he sees Steve's soft, endeared smile. He pauses, studying Steve's expression for a moment before laughing a little awkwardly and tugging on a lock of his hair, using it to cover his mouth. "So, uh, you knew the whole time," he says.

"Yep," Steve replies, leaning forward on the counter so it's harder for Eddie to avoid looking at him. "I did."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Eddie asks.

"You didn't want me to," Steve says. Then he considers his words and corrects, "Or, you didn't want to be recognized. When you first came in, you were bracing yourself for it, and I figured you'd feel more comfortable if I pretended not to know you."

"What about all the other times?"

Steve shrugs, his smile becoming reassuring. "I figured you'd either tell me when you were ready, or I'd tell you when we went on a date because you'd probably get all in your head about having a secret like that while we were dating."

And Steve is right. Eddie would have freaked out over the secret, and he would have struggled with telling Steve at just the right moment, and time would have stretched on and on until it had been too long to tell him anything. It would have been agony for Eddie and left Steve concerned and just not a good time for anyone.

"So, uh, how long have you been a fan?" Eddie asks.

"Well, I wasn't lying about hearing your music from Lucas, but I did lie about the time. It was two years ago," Steve explains.

Eddie slowly nods and then starts to grin. "So, how's it feel dating a celebrity?" he asks playfully, leaning closer and wiggling his eyebrows at Steve.

"Like a Wattpad fantasy come true," Steve deadpans, nearly cracking when he hears Robin lose her shit behind him, her laughter turning into wheezes within seconds.

Eddie laughs, too. It's loud and bright and makes Steve feel warm and happy, like every problem could be solved simply by making Eddie laugh just like this.

Steve is eager to find out if that's true.

#steddie #steddie fic #librarian steve harrington #rock star eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #robin buckley #5 + 1 fic #my writing #i'm a librarian btw so this was a bit inspired by my experiences #also fuck the dewey decimal system all my homies hate the dewey decimal system #it is a plague upon this earth

[buckrecs]

𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 : 𝙅𝙪𝙣𝙚

masterlist | monthly fic rec masterlist

FLUFF

Exhausted by @moonvis

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Secure Your Back by @writingcroissant

poppies and babies’ breath by @lizzie-is-here

More than friends by @theeleggymeggy

Lovesick by @/theeleggymeggy

Protecting What’s His by @jobean12-blog (bodyguard!bucky)

Pieces of Us by @majestyeverlasting

As Many As You Want by @/majestyeverlasting

How I Met Your Father by @pomelo-villano

Nerd by @imgoingtofreakoutnow

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magnetic mishaps by @aneluvs

Angel Eyes by @killatravtramp

hint dropped by @rocketrhap3000

pre-mission blues by @buckysblanket (husband!bucky)

Nightmares by @waiting4inspiration

Safe and Sound by @talesofesther

voicemails by @lovelybarnes

Chicken Soup for the Soul by @sebbytrash

Baking (fails) with bucky by @winter-soldier-vibes

booked on a feeling by @intrepidacious (librarian!bucky)

Theater by @loving-barnes

Sleepyhead by @tom-holland-parker

A Good Man by @/tom-holland-parker

A New Uniform by @hopelessromantic423

Manicure by @itsapeterthing

Speechless by @/itsapeterthing

I’ll Stop The World And Melt With You by @shamevillain

Flustered 2 by @/lovelybarnes

Aroma by @navybrat817

The Animal Within by @/navybrat817

ending unplanned by @starryevermore (bookstore au)

only angel by @cherryrogers (40s!bucky)

IDGAF by @amandaoftherosemire

Sleepy by @sunflowers-and-bucky

Happy Beans by @/rookthorne (barista!bucky)

Imagine by @buckyalpine

Shy Boy by @hiddles-and-skittles

A Good Man by @beyondspaceandstars

Meet The Parents by @/navybrat817

before sunset, i fell by @atlaese (modern au)

Lemonade and shields by @/atlaese

Old Fashioned by @rookthorne

ANGST

Tip of the Tongue by @bucky-fricking-barnes

Who Did This To You? by @espinosaurusrexex

“Accidentally” by @/pomelo-villano

Just Tell Her by @girl-next-door-writes

New Love by @ro-is-struggling

jealousy, jealousy by @malum-forev

Jealous by @sweetbbarnes

A New Life? by @/waiting4inspiration (phoenix!reader)

We mend each other by @/talesofesther

Green by @/itsapeterthing

Smoke by @shurisneakers

The Ultimatum by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

feel me by @flordeamatista (siren!reader)

youngblood by @sebbies (boxer!bucky)

Safe Place To Land by @sunlightdances (modern au)

Too Much (Not Enough) by @touchstarvedirl

SMUT

Be it revenge or moving on by @writingsoftheloser

Cherry by @sweetdreamsbuck (camboy!bucky)

Your Daddy Did It Better by @princessbellecerise (billionaire!bucky)

Wrapped In Red by @/flordeamatista

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes series #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes modern au #bucky barnes x agent!reader #bucky barnes x avenger!reader #boyfriend!bucky #bodyguard!bucky #tfatws!bucky #camboy!bucky #neighbor!bucky #husband!bucky #phoenix!reader #librarian!bucky #boxer!bucky #40s!bucky #bucky barnes 40s au #bucky x nurse!reader

[uglypastels]

i have to say this, eddie love fucking you when you’re in a messy bun and your glasses almost falling down your nose. Chef’s kiss

Chef's kiss indeed and i hope this is ok, but this gave me major librarian!reader vibes, and I meant to make this pure filth, but as I started writing, I realised that I adore these two wholeheartedly, so please enjoy the fluff fest around it.

warnings: 18+ only MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. p in v sex. sex in a public place. unprotected sex (dzon't dzo it). swearing.

masterlist // inbox //

Working in the Hawkins Town Library, you got to be in the presence of almost everybody who lived there, from the youngest readers to the eldest. Everyone needed books for one reason or another, let it be homework research, recipes or just some entertainment. There were the quiet readers who settled themselves somewhere in a corner to spend the rest of the day with their noses in between the pages; the ones who search for hours for the one book they had their mind set on the moment they walked in; the ones that, for whatever reason, forget to stay silent. There were fans of fantasy as well as historical non-fiction, philosophy and romance. There was a place for everybody here. 

With such a variety in patrons, it was only natural you grew to have favourites. Some might be more self-explanatory than others. Of course, your heart doubled when Julie came in with her daughter, Sandy [who just turned six!], to pick out a new book every few weeks. Or old man Farrell who already knew all the facts in the books he checked out and was more than happy to share with you.

It could come to most people as a shock then that the person you looked forward to seeing the most was none other than Eddie Munson.

Surprisingly, he could be the definition of the perfect library patron. Besides the fact that he had never been late with book returns, when you started working there, the first few times Eddie came by, he scared you to death—so quiet was he, sneaking around the aisles and up to the counter to check his stacks of books out.

‘Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya there, sweetheart,’ he said as he put the books on the desk. 

‘It’s alright.’ You started picking up books from the pile, stamping in the date on the inside sheet. ‘Might have to consider getting a bell.’ You smiled, ‘that way I could hear you coming.’ 

‘Hmm, too bad I don’t have a bell.’ Eddie clicked his tongue but reached into one of his pockets, ‘but… would these do?’ He pulled out a handful of thin metal chains. They rattle around. 

‘Why do you have those in your pocket?’ You asked curiously as you gave him back the books. 

‘Always have them on me– I mean, on my jeans, but I take them off when I’m hear. Don’t want to disturb anyone.’ And with that, he gave you a shy little smile that made your heart melt. 

‘That is, actually, really sweet of you.’ If only more people were so considerate. ‘Thank you.’ 

‘Yeah, well, I have my moments.’ He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘I’ll see you around.’

‘See ya.’ You waved as he walked away, barely able to contain the smile on your face that the metalhead had caused. 

Not a lot changed since that day, but your and Eddie’s conversations did begin to grow. You’d keep on talking while you checked out his books, sometimes for so long that another patron would have to interrupt to get their books. Then, Eddie would pop by your desk to ask for the location of some particular book— one you had never heard of, in all honesty, but he probably easily could have found it if he bothered to look through the cards. 

‘Excuse me, sweetheart,’ he’d clear his throat, ‘do you have any idea where I could find Carrots Love Tomatoes?’ 

‘Sorry?’ You must have misheard the title.

‘Carrots Love Tomatoes: Secrets of Companion Planting for Successful Gardening. It’s for my uncle.’ Eddie would clarify, reading the title out from a scrap of paper he had scribbled on. 

‘Right. Do you know who it’s by, perchance?’ 

‘I’m surprised you don’t.’ He reread the paper. ‘Louise Riotte– shit, I’m definitely mispronouncing that.’ He quickly spelt it out for you.

Well, you had to admit, you weren’t personally familiar with Miss Riotte’s work, but you knew this library inside-out and told Eddie to follow you into the section you thought it most likely to be. The non-fiction section was off in the corner of the library, with only rectangular windows blocks near the ceiling, letting in barely any daylight. The light was, instead, coming from the lamps above you; they flickered and buzzed on the off-moments. 

Eddie stayed a step behind you as you navigated through the shelves, muttering the alphabet to yourself repeatedly as you tried to find the RI– shelf. Once you finally found it, you realised it was on the top of the bookcase, where you couldn’t reach it. 

‘It’s up there.’ You pointed, thinking that maybe Eddie would just get it himself now. But instead, Eddie offered to pick you up. A bit flustered, you accepted the offer and tried to ignore the feeling of his hands on your hips, the way his rings dug into your soft skin. He picked you up, and you grabbed the book quickly. Once back down on the ground again, you handed it over to him. Eddie thanked you with a large smile as he looked at the book. 

He frowned. 

‘Something wrong?’ You asked. 

‘No, no, it’s all good, thanks. It’s just that…I don’t know…’ He looked at the book a bit longer. ‘Oh, you know what? I think I must have read it wrong.’ He looked down at the scrap of paper again. ‘...yeah. That definitely says Catcher in the Rye. Well, thank you anyway, sweetheart. Really ‘preciate it.’ 

‘You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson.’ You laughed. 

‘Uhm, I’ll have you know,’ he leaned against the bookcase by your side, ‘that this had actually all been an act of sheer brilliance.’ 

‘Oh?’ You were leaning against it, too, your shoulders almost touching. 

‘Yes. I would say that the way I got you here with me, away from all those people, is MacGyver-level brilliance.’ 

‘Don’t you think it might have been easier to just… I don’t know, just ask me to meet you here.’ You would have been going on a break soon anyway.

Eddie grinned as he leaned forward to you, ‘Now, what would be the fun in that?’ You could feel his breath on you. The scent of excessive bubblegum chewing greeted you. 

‘Fair enough,’ you tried to act cool, ignoring the hot flashes he was causing all over your body. ‘So, why did you want me to come out here? What couldn’t wait until my lunch break, Munson?’ 

‘Just wanted to say how cute you looked today.’ Eddie smiled, then, as if he remembered something– ‘Oh, and this–’ he leaned in, cupping your face in his hand, kissing you softly. 

So, perhaps, some things had changed over time. Smalltalk and jokes at the front desk turned into stolen kisses and hushed laughter in the dark corners of the library. Just as with everything around, Eddie was gentle and soft. His grip on you was there for support, to make you feel how much he wanted you near him. 

You pulled away with a small gasp, chest-beating fast, eyes fluttering open.

‘But I suppose I could have waited with that.’ Eddie said afterwards, his hand still on your cheek. 

‘I’m glad you didn’t.’ Your voice was hushed, but you kissed Eddie deeply instead of breathing in the air you needed. You pulled at his shirt to bring him closer, and his other hand reached for your waist, tugging at the hem of your shirt. 

‘You should probably get back,’ he muttered between kisses. 

‘Probably,’ you replied. Neither of you meant any of it, and you both knew it. You had no idea why you only saw each other at the library. Maybe because you always knew to find each other here; it was a certainty. Outside, it would be a mere coincidence to bump into Eddie. Here, you knew he would be here every week.

Maybe because it felt like a haven for both of you and it felt like a different reality—an escape from the real world. But it was precisely this that made everything else so fragile. Who knew what it would be like outside of these bookshelves? You didn’t want to know, so why risk it? What you had now, it was an unspoken agreement. One you both were more than happy with. It was special—a rarity. 

Everything- the kiss, the hold, the emotions, the heat- all intensified the longer you kept going. It was getting messy and rough. Eddie had locked you in between him and the bookcase. You could feel him all over you. His hair tickling your face, his cold rings on your skin, his clothes pressing into you, his— fuck, he was huge. You could feel him against your thigh, no hiding it. 

‘Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this the whole week.’ He breathed against your neck. ‘Haven’t stopped thinking about you.’ You would have told him the same if you could form an entire sentence. It was hard to concentrate daily when you had the memory of his touch plague you every day, and everything around you at your job was a heavy reminder.

‘Need… I need you, Eddie,’ you gasped out as he kissed your neck, right on the spot that made your knees go weak. ‘Please.’ 

‘Hmm, need you too, sweetheart.’ He was roaming his hand over your bare thigh underneath your skirt. Sometimes you wondered if anyone around had noticed that you really only wore them on days of Eddie’s library visits. Perhaps Eddie hadn’t picked up on that specifically, but he certainly enjoyed your style. ‘Drive my fucking wild in these short skirts of yours.’ The words rolled out of his mouth as he began unzipping his jeans. ‘Look so fucking good.’ 

‘Thank you,�� you moaned, giggling about how giddy you felt that he was complimenting you while preparing to thrust his dick in you. It was all so silly, so stupid. You were doing something incredibly risky, most likely illegal, but you couldn’t care one bit. All you could think about was how good he made you feel. How happy you felt with him. 

‘C’mere,’ Eddie groaned, pulling you up by your thighs, holding you against the shelves. Luckily, they were pretty sturdy, bolted to the ground, so his force pushing you against them barely mattered. On you, however, it was another story. 

‘Oh, fuck,’ you whimpered, trying to stay quiet at the feeling of him inside you. After letting you adjust quickly, he started thrusting in you hard and deep. The way he was moving against you, it made your whole body shake. You could feel your glasses slip down your nose. In the haze of it all, you had forgotten to take them off but were about to do so– when Eddie interrupted. 

‘No, keep them on.’ He kissed your cheek.

‘Why?’ you didn’t see a reason for them. 

‘Want you to see me fucking you.’ His smile was airy. ‘Besides, it’s hot as shit. The way you get so messy for me. And your hair,’ he punctuated each sentence with a deep thrust. One of his hands brushed some of your hair out of your face, ‘I wish I could take a picture of you right now. Would cum to it like every day.’ 

‘Gross.’ You joked, and in return, Eddie grazed his teeth over your collarbone, nipping at your skin slightly. 

‘Calling me gross as if you’re not getting fucked in the middle of the library.’ Eddie’s smile was contagious. As he continued, your glasses were falling again, but he quickly pushed them back over the bridge of your nose. ‘You’re fucking filthy, sweetheart.’ 

‘I’m–’ you gasped as he went deeper. 

‘Yeah, baby?’ 

‘I’m– I’m close, Eddie.’ You tried to whisper as best as you could, biting down on any noises that could be heard from afar.

‘Mmm, I know, you’re so tight. So perfect.’ he moaned through his last hard thrusts. You could feel your climax coming, knew how it would come, and quickly hid your face in the nape of his neck to muffle your scream of pleasure as it washed over you. Eddie rode it out with you, only moments behind. 

He held you briefly, letting you come down and stabilise your breathing. You smiled at eachother sheepishly and kissed deeply once more. There was nothing else to say.

Eddie pulled out, the emptiness hitting you immensely. It was a strange sensation, and you still didn’t feel quite yourself as your feet touched the ground again. But Eddie’s hands stayed on you for stability. 

‘You’re a dream, sweetheart. Just… unbelievable.’

Eddie brushed the loose strands of hair from your face again while you readjusted your glasses. There was nothing else to say.

Now came the awkward part where you timed your exit from the aisle and hid the guilty sex-glow look on your face. 

It was a slow day at the library, so no one awaited you at the front desk. You took your place and tried to shake off all your emotions, and it worked for the most part, except for the giant smile. That you just could not get rid of. 

It was still there when Eddie returned to you twenty minutes later, now accompanied by a new stack of books. 

‘Found everything you were looking for?’ You asked as you took the books from him. 

‘That and more.’ He leaned his elbows on the wood, grinning like an idiot. You had to tell yourself not to look at him, or you would get lost in those big brown eyes. 

‘I’m happy to hear that.’ You stamped the date into all the books and returned them to Eddie. ‘Here you go.’ 

‘Thanks, sweetheart.’ Eddie grabbed them under his arm. ‘Same time next week?’ He winked. Once, the words really were only meant for this little exchange. That had been all you were looking forward to—the small chat at the desk. Back then, you would have never imagined the things you would get up to with the metalhead in the barely visited sections of the library. 

‘See you, Eddie.’ You shook your head, still smiling, of course. And that was that. There was nothing else to say. 

At least, there wasn’t before. All those other times, that really would have been it. Eddie would have walked away, and you would have watched him do so while already awaiting his comeback. Yet this time…

This time, Eddie stayed in his place. 

‘Can I… help you with anything else?’ You raised a brow. 

‘Uhh–’ Eddie cleared his throat. ‘Yes. Yes, you could. See if I have these… these two tickets for this thing— a concert… and see, I have no idea what to do with this second one, so maybe you could help me with that.’ He spoke fast and like he was stumbling over an uneven pavement instead of words, but you followed it nonetheless.

‘Concert?’ You asked. 

‘Yes.’ He expanded with the name of a band you had never heard of before. ‘This weekend.’

You thought for a moment, or at least pretended to, as you already knew your answer. ‘I might have a friend who would be interested in taking that ticket off you.’ 

‘Any chance this friend of yours wears cute glasses, short skirts and works at my favourite spot in the city?’ 

‘She just might.’ You bit the inside of your cheek. 

‘Then it’s deal, sweetheart,’ Eddie slammed his hand on the table in excitement, then immediately cringed at the noise he made. That same noise seemed to have awakened a quick realisation in him: ‘Wait, we were talking about you, right?’

‘Yes, Eddie. I would love to go to the concert with you.’ You rolled your eyes at the needed clarification.

‘Cool, just checking. Great.’ he started walking away now. ‘Great. I’ll pick you up– wait; I don’t even know where you live.’ 

‘You can pick me up here.’

‘Do you live at the library?’ he asked quickly, and you were sure he was being serious.

‘No, Eddie, I do not, but I work weekends too. But you can bring me back to my place afterwards. Stay the night, maybe?’ Was that too much too quickly? You started to panic for a second, thinking you took it too far, but then Eddie replied, repeating his previous words.

‘It’s a deal, sweetheart.’

the end

thank you so much for reading!! please consider supporting with comments and reblogs <3 (maybe leave a review??) I would love to hear your thoughts

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n. #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson au #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson request #smut #fluff #librarian au #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #imagine #blurb #request

[sugarsnappeases]

just had this thought of lily as a lit student volunteering at her local library and barty as this delinquent being assigned to do community service there. like she starts off with a bit of a ‘oh this poor criminal, i must save him’ mindset and then is constantly frustrated by barty as it’s clear that he just. doesn’t want to be saved. and he’ll deliberately mess up the book organisation systems and try to scam people by fining them when their books are nowhere near overdue so he can keep the money for himself. and lily is running around after him, huffing as she loudly puts the books back in their proper places, whacking him round the back of the head when she catches him trying to scam some old man. she’s screaming at him in the back room, leaning over him as he sits back unbothered on one of the chairs, shoving her finger in his face but he just grins and tries to bite it so she’s whacking him again and storming out bc he’s just SO infuriating. but then somehow he’s also going in depth with her about the motivations of iago in othello and whether the tragedy can be blamed entirely on him or if society itself plays a part in the plot’s development or animatedly discussing keats’ ode to a nightingale and the concept of negative capability and how it relates to the body. and she’s just completely fascinated by him, she wants to analyse him like one of the texts from her classes, she thinks she could write essay upon essay about his view of the world and the way his brain works and the tattoo she can always see just poking out of the top of his collar. and now she’s missing deadlines bc she wants to spend time w him, and laughing as he knocks over an entire bookshelf while trying to tell her about the book he’s just read, and really he doesn’t want to be saved but maybe he’s saving her instead…

#bartylily #i’ve been in the car for like seven hours now and my brain is ROTTING #it’s too dark to read my spanish poetry so my only real option is to just endlessly ponder these two #sorry about the long block of text btw but it had to be done #maybe i’ll write this properly one day… #picture me sighing and adding it to my long list of fic ideas #btw barty’s just like oooh smart sexy librarian!? mark me down as dtf #kara’s writing

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 44

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: took a while.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Ann covers your mouth with hers, her tongue delving inside as you garble. You lay, still as marble as her hand slides down your pelvis. She curls her fingers and rolls along your clit, playing with you as you squeak.  

She rocks her hand as your body reacts. You don't want it too. You want it to stop. Her, too. 

She grabs the back of your head, her other hand firmly between your legs as she forces it further between your thighs. She pokes a finger inside you as you whimper and flatten yourself against the mattress. He lifts herself, staying attached to you as she straddles you below. 

She leans on her hand, tilting as if it's connected to her pelvis, fucking you as she pushes in a second finger. You squeeze your eyes shut, struggling to breathe as she traps you. 

"Mmm," she drags her lips down her cheek and you feel the gloss smear on your skin, "you delicious, aren't you??" She purrs, "he's going to like you so much." 

She rams her fingers as deep as she can, crushing her hand against you violently. You whimper but don't stop her. You're terrified and confused. What is she doing? What does she mean? 

“Relax, honey, I'm just getting you ready for him,” she growls and nuzzles you, “you're so tight. He’s really going to enjoy that.” 

You squirm as a whine escapes you. You hide beneath your eyelids as she continues her intrusion. Her nose touches yours, lips brushing as her breath cascades hotly across your cheeks. She closes the distance and crushes her mouth to yours, her tongue delving inside without welcome. 

Your head pulses and spins, your body sets alight as you wriggle, helpless to her affections. Your heart lurches as a vision flashes in your mind. It’s not Ann, it’s Andy atop of you, touching you, forcing you, smothering you. 

You turn your face away and gasp. Your eyes roll open, glossy with tears as you push on Ann’s shoulders. You’re too weak to make a difference as she nips and kisses at your neck instead. She keeps you splayed her legs against yours as she tilts her hand, fucking you to the knuckle as she puffs in tandem. 

“Mm,” she purrs, “be a good girl... yeah, are you getting wet for him? For my husband?” 

“Please,” you whisper. 

“Don’t be ashamed. A pathetic thing like you has simple desires, don’t you?” She taunts, “he’s your doctor, sweetheart, and you’re panting like a dog to have him.” 

“Please... stop,” you beg as you grasp her upper arm, “I don’t...” 

“I can see it,” she snarls and bits along your jawline, “baby, I’m not mad at it. He needs a new toy.” She shoves her fingers as deep as they’ll go, “he might play with you but he comes home to me.” 

You sniffle and slap your hand down on the bed. You can’t fight her. You deserve this. She’s right. You’re a bad person. You like Dr. Kemp more than you should. You’re a patient and she’s his wife. 

“Mmm,” she drags herself down your body, keeping her hand buried between your legs, “let me help you...” 

She kneels between your legs and tears down your pants. Your body bounces on the bed as you lay paralysed to her whims. She untangles your pants from your legs and hurls away the fabric. She bends to breathe into the tuft of hair along your pelvis. 

She nuzzles and pokes her tongue between your folds. You clench your teeth and stare at the wall. You hold air in your chest as she keeps her fingers sliding in and out, teasing your bud as she hums. Your feet arch even as you fight to stay number to her touch.  

Just like with Andy, you want it to end. You need it to be over. You wiggle your nose as you try to keep the tears from falling. How could you ever believe you were saved? More foolishly, how could you think Steve could ever like you like that? 

Your eyes glaze over as the plucking of her tongue twangs in your core. No, no, no, you don’t want to feel. You pant and puff, trying to hold back the effect of her violation. You dig your nails into the blanket and squeak as your insides coil and release. You spasm and whimper through the uninvited orgasm and bite your lip until you taste blood. 

She keeps touching you, invading you as she shoves her fingers into your cunt. She pushes to her knuckles and slides back out, slow as she pulls her mouth off of you. She purrs as she dips in and out, long strokes that have you squirming. It hurts, more than physically. 

You turn your head straight and cry out as you notice a shadow behind her. You couldn’t hear Steve past your own deafening breaths. So caught up in the whirlwind of your horror that your heartbeat tamped out all around you.  

Ann tilts her head up as he stands behind her. His thick hands rest on her shoulders, kneading them as he bends to kiss her lips. She murmurs something you can’t make out and drags her fingers down your thigh, leaving a wet streak down your flesh. 

She shifts back on her heels and stands, turning to her husband as you sniffle. You can’t hold back anymore. You’re mortified. You push your legs together as he caresses her cheek and whispers to her. He turns to you, his blue eyes drifting over your body. 

You sit up as he presses a knee to the mattress. You bend your legs and fold them against your chest. He comes towards you and tickles up your calves. 

“Sweetheart, it’s okay,” he coos, “you can trust me.” 

“Please,” you croak, “you... you’re married.” 

“Sweetie, it’s... open. An arrangement. It’s fine. You’re not doing anything wrong,” he trails his hand up your calf, “just relax.” 

“Steve, I...” you pout. 

He pauses and sits back on his heels, his forehead lines and his face falls, “I thought... I thought you liked me.” 

“I do but I didn’t know...” you look at Ann as she watches you with a smirk, biting her index fingers coyly. 

“I’m sorry, I should’ve said something, I know, but I... I like you too,” he breathes, “and she knew about you. All this time. Wasn't she nice to you?” He turns his head, “Ann...” 

“She came,” she pokes her finger into her mouth and sucks on it, popping it out, “she’s sweet. Why don’t you have a taste?” 

You blanch and peer between them. Your heart is fluttering wildly. You’re dizzy but you can’t decipher the swirling inside of you. You don’t know if you want this. You don’t what you want.  

You bat your eyes at Steve and your heart flips. No, you know you want Steve. That day you touched yourself and he flashed into your mind you were sure. For the first time in your life, you really wanted something. 

“Sweetheart,” leans forward, his hands on the mattress, “can I kiss you?” 

Your lip quivers. He says it’s okay. She’s not mad. So it must be... 

Can you really say no? It’s their house. They welcomed you in and if you leave... what do you do? Go back to Andy? 

You nod, “okay.” 

She smile and moves towards you slowly. He leans over your knees and cradles your face. Your nerves go haywire, fiery as they ping off of each other. You dreamt of this. His hands on you, gentle and patient, him bending his head, his lips inches from yours. Your mouths meet and sparks fly. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to forget the other body in the room. He hums and you put your hand on his arm, bracing him as you push your lips against his. His tongue pokes around and you open your mouth. It’s much nicer than kissing Andy. 

He moves closer, keeping his mouth on yours. His hand crawls up your leg and he urges your knees apart. You unlock them and he moves between them. He lays you down slowly, delving deep into your mouth, devouring you. You’re breathless and windswept by his intensity. 

His lips slip down your cheek and his hand creeps down your body. He tugs at your sweater, rolling it up your torso. He pushes it up and up and up. You raise your arms and he parts as he pulls it above your head. He sweeps it off your arms and throws it away. 

He falls on you again as you squeak. He crushes you beneath him as he kisses you fervently, hungrily. You feel his need against you. 

“Mm, honey, you’re such a tease,” Ann taunts and your lashes flick. 

He draws back, “relax, sweetheart,” he pets your cheek and once more smothers your lips. 

He growls into your mouth, rolling his hips against you, pushing his rigid excitement against your naked pelvis. You whine and squeeze his shoulder, your other hand clasping around the front of his shirt. The friction fills you with torturous heat. 

He parts again, kissing the tip of your nose, then your forehead, your cheeks, your jawline. He slides down your body leaving a speckling of kisses along your flesh. He feels the thin fabric of your bra and nips at each tit, burying his face between them. 

“You always play with your food,” Ann’s shadow shifts and she sits in the chair in the corner.  

You can’t see much past Steve’s shoulders as he bends over you, dragging himself back. He lowers himself to his stomach and hooks his hands around your thighs. His hot breath scours over your cunt and you gasp. You push yourself up on your elbows and watch him nuzzle the patch of coarse curls. 

He flicks is tongue between your folds quickly and you twitch. He does it again and you react just the same. He purrs and delves his tongue down along your lips and swipes it up slowly. His eyes stick to yours as you watch dumbly. 

He centres on your clit and seals his lips around it, sucking as you cry out at the sparkling pressure. Your arms collapse and fall flat on your back. You arch as he hums and pushes your legs against the sides of his head. He rocks his head, growling as he laps you up, moving you with him. 

Your fingers curls and you drag them up and down your stomach, leaving hot lines as you writhe and moan. You reach down and feel his thick waves, clutching them as you push your pelvis into him. He is so warm, so delicate, so delightful. He’s nicer than you could ever dream. 

Shallow puffs scrape from your throat and your chest rises and falls. Your voice escapes in little mewls and moans, piquing as you tug on his hair and quake. You cum, feeling how you slicken in his mouth, how his tongue spread around your pleasure. That sensation tingles through you from head to toe. 

Your eyes snap up as suddenly a hand frames your chin. Ann sits on the bed sideways, she’s naked. She bends over you, kissing you. You babble, weakly nudging her with your hand. Steve’s tongue swirls and has you too spastic to resist. She pulls backs, circling the tip of her nose around yours, and she sighs. 

“Steve, I want to see you in her,” she turns to face him, reaching to toy with your tits. 

He lifts himself, his face flushed, his lips and nose glistening. His eyes are alight. Your head lolls back and forth.  

Ann pulls down the cups of your bra, tweaking so you cry out. She gropes and grabs, twirling her thumb around your budding nipples. You bring your hands to your sides and clasp the blankets. 

Steve strips off his sweater, his hair messy as he drops it over the end of the bed. He stands to push down his jeans as his erection bulges inside his briefs. You gurgle as Ann continues to play with you, tickling up and down your stomach before once more fondling your chest.  

Steve rolls down his briefs and springs free. You gape at his size and tense. Ann leans down to press her cheek to yours, “relax, baby, he’s going to take good care of you.” 

She turns her head and kisses your cheek before she sits up again. Her hand dances around your torso as she purrs and watches her husband kneel between your knees. His thighs press to your and he prods along your folds. He rubs his tip against you, wetting himself, up and down, smearing your juices around. 

“Hurry up,” Ann demands. 

He exhales, his muscled chest straining as you bit your lip. He pushes against your entrance and slides into you. He inches in, little by little, and Ann leans forward. She stares between your legs as he sinks to his limit and yours. Your body racks and you reach down as you whimper. 

“Fuck...” Steve groans, his voice raspy like a snarling beast. 

“Is she tight, baby?” Ann asks, “hmm, is she?” 

“Yeah,” he pulls back and rolls back in. You moan and grip your own hips as your toes curl. “She’s squeezing me so good.” 

“Keep fucking her,” Ann sneers, “fuck her good.” 

Ann bounces around the bed, hovering next to her husband, pressing against him as she reaches to squeeze his ass. She kisses his shoulder as he groans and rocks his hips smoothly into you. Your eyes roll back as your walls quiver. 

“You better fill her up,” Ann snarls, “I want her leaking with you, baby.” 

He ruts into you hard, jolting you as your legs splay around him limply. He squeezes your thighs, holding you in place as he speeds up thrust by thrust. You look down hazily. He snaps his hips as Ann brings her hand over one of his. She hums and leans her head against him. 

“Are you going to cum?” She taunts, “huh, baby, are you gonna gush inside of her? You going to make a mess...” 

“Stop--” he hisses. 

“Come on, she’s almost there,” she reaches to put her thumb on your clit, rolling it around until you’re whining. “Baby girl, go on and cum on his dick.” She presses harder as you tense, “do it.” 

You push your head back and your chest up. You orgasm as Steve keeps his rhythm. You clench around him, clinging to him as he groans and grunts. He slams into you, over and over, his voice drone out of him through gaspy breaths. 

“That’s it, you fill her up nice and good,” Ann flicks your oversensitive clit, “oh, bad boy, cumming in your own patient. What a bad doctor.” 

He slows and your body goes slack. As he stops, still half inside of you, you feel his cum trickling down from your cunt. You blink and peek down at him as he hangs his head. Ann rubs his arm and he shrugs her off. He slides out and backs off the bed. 

“Why the fuck would you say that?” He growls under his breath as he snatch his pants off the floor. 

He pulls them on, leaving them undone as he holds them up and stalks to the door. She giggles and watches him go. She sighs and looks at you as the door snaps shut. 

“He can be so sensitive,” she wiggles her fingers between your folds and you tremble, “just like you, huh?” 

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #librarian au #steve kemp #dark steve kemp #dark!steve kemp #steve kemp x reader #fresh #defending jacob #don't speak

[ennas-aesthetic]

Retired!Dream as a Librarian AU

Both @ineffablyendless and I spent a night brainstorming on what we think Retired!Dream would be doing (you know, if he walked away like Destruction did and decided to live life not tied down to impossible responsibilities), and we immediately agreed that he would LOVE being a librarian. So here's a collection of our Retired!Dream as a librarian headcanons:

Surprisingly, joining the library wasn't Hob's idea.

The first few months after he left his duties and responsibilities as ‘Dream of the Endless,’ Morpheus had gone into a bit of an existential crisis. He has basically lost his entire function, which was the anchorage of his whole being and identity. If he is NOT the manifestation of the collective unconscious and the Prince of Stories, then who the hell is he?

(He has no idea where Destruction has gone, too, so it’s not like he can tap him and ask casually how to start living his life as a human. Dream is drawing on a blank, and is completely lost on who he should be and what it is that he wants to do.)

Hob is there for him during those months. He is gentle and kind and patient; he tells Dream that he can do whatever the fuck he wants, and encourages him to try various things. Crafting, painting, writing. Dream has a natural affinity to the arts (of course) but none of them seem to stick (and the Bohemian starved-artist persona was more Destruction’s thing, anyway. Dream may be a ‘human’ now, but the pettiness went nowhere, it seems.)

Hob tells him that he will NEVER mind Dream going out of the flat when Hob’s off to teach at the University. Encourages it, even. He tells Dream that he does not need to be cooped up in the house, that he can go wherever he wants. Dream often stays in, anyway, (because he has got nowhere to be), until he could not take the constant ennui and boredom any longer and books out of the flat.

He goes around the locale for a bit, explores the town he and Hob live in. Inexplicably, he is drawn to the local library.

Stepping into the library reawakens a small part of him that has been dormant ever since he left the Dreaming. Stories had always been his domain, and it is there that a tiny part of his soul (if he has any) is moved – as if the place has put him under its spell. He browses the shelves, reads through books and novels that he has read a thousand times. Often, though, he is content sitting at the little visitor’s nook, looking at readers of all ages exchanging and accepting stories and tales, and feeling a forgotten part of his heart twinge with bittersweet calmness and serenity.

Haunting the library became a daily ritual. And as it is with humans and rituals, the staff become more and more used to him the more he frequents the place. Slowly they integrate him into their tight-knit band of librarians. Dream finds himself in deep discussion with various people over folktales and legends and stories, and they are entranced by how much he knows, endeared by his seriousness and aloofness. It is in conversation with the head librarian that he finds out they are always accepting volunteers. Would Dream like to be one?

When Hob finds out he is overjoyed. It was a no-brainer, really.

And that’s how Dream became part of the staff of the local library.

Sometimes Dream wonders how he had gotten here. Oh, if only his subjects could see him now. If only Lucienne could see him now. He was the owner of the Dreaming’s vast, endless library, sure, but as Monarch he had left the more menial tasks to Lucienne. Which, he realizes, was quite the “dick move” (as Hob puts it), on his part. He gets taught how to shelve books using the Dewey Decimal system, how to administer fines for books that are way past their return date, find the exact shelf for Fortunately, The Milk that a child had wanted for forever, how to wrangle silence with a vehement ‘sssssh!’ and a death glare. The last part he could do with ease, but the others not so much. He resolves to be more appreciative of Lucienne’s work over the millennia, if he ever sees her again.

But the work itself is pleasant, an anchor. He never had a sense that being a librarian is a chore. In fact, the task seems to keep him fixed, hinged on an axis of purpose and drive. After months of senseless brooding he is happy he has this at least, to define the fuzzy boundaries of his identity. He is still crafting who he wants ‘Morpheus’ to be, but it gets easier, a day at a time.

And the people, to his bemusement, love him. He is surprised at the ease of which he gets accepted into the brood, and realizes that people are so much kinder than he could ever have thought. There is Lissa, who is going through her bachelor's degree in Sociology, but who heads the Weekly Library Scavenger Hunt and frequently asks Dream’s help to cut up various visual aids and decorations for their bulletin boards. There is Annalee, who sometimes brings him coffee when they exchange shifts. They help him with the shelving and sorting at the end of the day, and they enthusiastically drag him in to help organize the monthly Slam Poetry competitions. Rupert, an elderly man who comes to stay at the library all day, and who does not forget to ask Morpheus how he is doing. Charlotte, the matronly Head Librarian who notices Dream not eating or taking breaks at the right time (his relationship with food has been complicated and rocky since his imprisonment at Burgess’), and clucks at him like a mother hen for skipping meals.

It’s… it’s a community. Dream has found himself a community: people who CARE about him, who allow him to be part of their little found family, who do not cower away from him or act as if they’re walking on eggshells around him. For once he has found himself an actual, healthy support system. Hob says something about Dream resonates with them: how aloof and awkward he is, how utterly serious and straight-faced he is about the job. They give their kindness so freely that sometimes Dream thinks that there is a catch (because there always was.) But sometimes kindness is brash and natural and emergent - it shows up wherever, whenever, just because.

(He is loved by the community, too. They are obsessed with him, this awkward, no-nonsense, goth librarian in doc martens and earrings and black nail polish. Whose partner, a genuine University professor, comes over occasionally to give historical talks and seminars. This skinny, goth, queer librarian who can and frequently glares people to death for the slightest perceived misdemeanor but blooms like a fresh flower for every nervous child who has questions about books. He’s done so well that they upgrade him from volunteer to full-time librarian, of which Morpheus accepts graciously.)

Another thing the community is obsessed with: Morpheus’ Children Reading Programs.

He was not in charge of Story Time Tuesdays. Peter was, except Peter wanted to move back to Brighton to be closer with his family. Morpheus takes the mantle when he volunteered to adlib a story on the behest of one of his fave kids. Of course, unbeknownst to literally everyone else, Morpheus is in his element. He does not just read: he performs. He takes the voices very seriously, and he is an excellent storyteller, weaving a tale of dragons and knights and pegasi so enrapturing the entire floor goes dead quiet hanging on to his every word. When he is finished they erupt into incredulous, awestruck applause.

Story Time Tuesdays become a hit. The kids are apt listeners and a great audience, and adults come over once in a while to sit in, too. Sometimes he does not even need a book. He's like a fucking bard. An old-timey rhapsode who could string one story into another with ease. EASE. He could recite them as though he himself was there for each and every one. (And he was. HE WAS.) The children love him completely.

He is so good at storytelling that the library club affectionately nicknamed him the Library's "Prince of Stories." This sends Hob to hysterical tears.

One time the kids suggested he tell the story of Mr. Sandman. This is the one time he is taken aback, the one time he sputters as he insists Mr. Sandman doesn’t have his OWN story, because he was the storyteller. He does not have a story of his own.

The kids call BULLSHIT on this, because somehow Dream trained them all into believing EVERYONE has their own story. Hob, bastard that he is, who has made a habit of getting off the university early to listen in on Dream’s Story Time Tuesdays, yells "YOU'RE RIGHT!" So Morpheus is delegated into the sidelines as he watches the kids make up a story of their own for once, about a dream magician named Mr. Sandman with a dragon best friend who goes on a quest to leave his island.

Mr. Sandman becomes a recurring character in all of Dream's adlib stories now, at the kids' insistence. He’s the magical godmother and the helpful NPC that helps the heroes on their quests. The other librarians who are secretly compiling all of Dream's adlib stories are naming it "Sandman Stories". The kids dress up as "Sandman" on Halloween and Dream is beginning to realize the children perceive Sandman to look a lot like himself.

He also DID NOT have a complete breakdown in the bedroom he and Hob share, about how the children are adamant that Morpheus has a story of his own, despite believing for entire eons that he has none. It's still hard to reconcile his issues on self-worth, remember that he deserves kindness and compassion. But Hob is there to help him get through it, and the kids continue insisting that the Sandman is a real character with a story of his own that MATTERS. That he has a life worth living, a tale worth telling.

And slowly but surely, he starts believing that, too.

We have SO MANY MORE librarian!Dream headcanons that we haven’t touched on yet! If you have questions + want some more these hit us up! 

#dreamling #dreamling fic #dream of the endless #hob gadling #the sandman #dreamling au #retired!dream #RETIRED!DREAM IS A LIBRARIAN AND HE IS HAPPY #also goth librarian flirts with university prof by the register #netflix the sandman

[thedrarrylibrarian]

hi!! I first off wanted to say THANK YOUU!! I came across your page abt two months ago when I needed new fics and I use your recs so often!! I was wondering, what are a few of your all-time favorite fics, if you had to choose? (:

Oh my goodness! I'm so glad to hear that you've been enjoying my blog! I can't believe I've been running this blog for 3 years today!

What a fun ask (I've been sitting on this so I could use it for today!) I really struggled to pick fics - or more accurately, not to pick ALL the fics! I picked fics that are my go to rereads - whether it's because they make me laugh or because they pull at my heartstrings, or because they're so hot, these are some of my personal favorites.

Cupboard Love by @shealwaysreads (4,184 words, rated G)

Cupboard Love: the psychoanalytic theory of an infant’s primary drive being food which, when satisfied, leads naturally to a secondary drive for attachment.

Harry’s life, and love, in food.

Still Warm, Still Warm by @tsauergrass (4,899 words, rated G)

Harry is up to something. Why else would he keep giving Draco presents?

Five Little Things by @bixgirl1 (6,197 words, rated T)

Harry was supposed to be good at this.

Headway by orphan_account (7,482 words, rated M)

“It’s called courting,” Draco spat suddenly, livid and red in the face. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand a single thing about it, actually Potter, since it’s formal, and there are rules, and neither of those are concepts you’d know anything about even if they took on human form and kicked you right in the fucking dick.”

The Exhale by spqr (7,506 words, rated T)

Hermione makes a soft, concerned sound. "Harry, look at this." She shows him an article with a photo, but the photo's not moving; it must be a Muggle newspaper. "NASA have just landed a rover on Mars. It's called Curiosity, and look, this is so--I don't know if it's sweet or sad, but--it's all alone out there, and they programmed it to sing itself Happy Birthday."

Nothing is wrong, but Harry starts crying.

Silverpoint by @tackytigerfic (8,836 words, rated E)

It seems fairly simple to you, but you know that you don't really understand love - how could you, after all? You've never known how to talk about it, but you've never had to before. Everyone you ended up loving has always understood. You've been able to show them, by fighting for them, dying for them.

That seems a bit much- after all, Malfoy just wants tea in bed and his cock in your mouth (not usually at the same time).

It's ok to love him, you reason with yourself - he doesn't have to know. No one ever has to know.

Quick as a Flash of Lightning, Unhurried as Eternity by @onbeinganangel and @babooshkart (10,000 words, rated E)

Can you fall in love with someone by simply watching them fiercely love another version of yourself?

The Way These Days Seem to Go (And Go) by @firethesound (15,230 words, rated T)

Stress baking isn’t a hobby Harry ever thought he’d pick up, but he’s surprised to find how much it helps him to get through those long months post-war. It keeps his hands busy, it keeps his mind occupied, and when Draco Malfoy steadily pushes his way back into Harry's life, it helps with that too.

Let him lead me to the banquet by @harryromper (16,066 words, rated T)

The worst part is Harry’s got no idea why Malfoy keeps sending him invites. He’s never replied to a single one. And if the whole dinner is as exclusive and sought-after as the Prophet keeps breathlessly reporting, then presumably the only reason Malfoy wants him there is in his capacity as the Chosen One. So, really, he can fuck right off. Harry doesn’t care about Draco Malfoy’s redemption tour. And he’s certainly not going to help him with it.

Draco Malfoy Absolutely Does Not Need to Be Loved by Harry Bloody Potter by @nv-md (18,153 words, rated E)

It’s not easy to be bonded to your childhood rival, turned fuckbuddy, who you also have extremely uncomfortable but repressed feelings for—just ask Draco Malfoy.

When You Kiss Me (What A Lovely Way to Burn) by @femmequixotic (22,167 words, rated E)

A drag fairytale of New York in which Draco wears red lipstick and Potter can’t get enough.

In the dark, the light by phrynne (32,203 words, rated E)

‘Potter… It’s Malfoy. Do you still want this?’ It started like that. Malfoy’s breath on his ear, his voice low, hot against his skin. Harry shivered, though he could feel the heat from Malfoy’s body just behind him, too close, but not touching him. Even if he could. For the rest of the night, he could do whatever the hell he wanted with Harry.

Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon by @drarrytrash (36,733 words, rated E)

According to Harry’s personal narrative regarding the incident, he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy for purely self-destructive reasons, or out of convenience, or by some unlucky accident. Looking at him, sprawled in the moonlight, Harry is devastated to recall that he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy because he’s hot.

Draco is a secret werewolf and Harry is doing his best and they've got criminals to catch, darn it.

Boiling Point by @goldentruth813 (42,882 words, rated M)

After an Auror raid gone wrong, Draco ends up trapped in a dodgy safehouse with nothing but Harry Potter’s dubious company and a dwindling supply of food. With only each other and the walls surrounding them, they're forced to confront their past and their feelings which have long been threatening to boil over.

The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (103,395 words, rated T)

This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine. Then Malfoy came along with and his flashy suits and fast car making everything seem dull in comparison, and Harry... Harry couldn't just leave well enough alone.

Grounds for Divorce by @tepre (122,217 words, rated E)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

What We Pretend We Can't See by @gyzym (131,086 words, rated M)

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Love forever,

The Drarry Librarian

#my favorites #my favorite fics #the drarry librarian's favorite fics #drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #harry x draco #the drarry librarian #happy blog anniversary to me! 3 years! #blog anniversary

[thefemboylinkagenda]

“I’m sorry, sir, you did what?”

“Well yes,” Flynn flapped his hands around as he began to pace, “We couldn’t exactly leave you dead.”

“Do you know how dangerous it is to rewrite history?” Jenkins admonished.

“It worked out,” Eve Baird said from across the table, “Flynn and I are the only ones who even remember anything different.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you rewrote time,” Jenkins said, “I’m flattered that you would do that much for me but—”

“Look, look, look,” Flynn interrupted. “I think you’re focusing on the wrong thing here. Yes, we— I— rewrote time, but it worked out.”

“Yes, Mr. Carsen,” Jenkins sighed, “it worked out this time. But if you did it again, who knows if it would?”

“I just won’t do it again!”

Jenkins shot Eve a look, “Colonel I would tell you to hold him to it, but you’re just as complicit.”

Eve shrugged, “Ceasing to exist was a risk I was willing to take to get you back.”

Jenkins sighed again, “Just… Don’t mess with time anymore okay?”

“Of course.”

“No promises!”

#do i need to tag this as spoilers still? #the librarians #jenkins #eve baird #flynn carsen #what if jenkins found out about flynn and eve fucking with time #finished rewatching this show and the brainrot consumes #can't believe i'm writing librarians fic in the year of our lord 2024 #the librarians tnt #chaos writes

[gurugirl]

Shy | librarian!harry -patreon teaser

2 part story only on Patreon!

Summary: Harry's a painfully shy librarian and he finds Y/n very sweet so when she gets the nerve up to ask him to join her to see her friend's band play he gets nervous about going but figures it'll be his only shot.

1,122 word teaser

📚📚📚📚

As more of her friends arrived everyone pulled tables together and Y/n made sure she kept Harry with her, next to her the whole time. She kept checking in but he was becoming withdrawn bit by bit as her friends were stealing her attention. She tried keeping him in the conversation, asking him his opinion, touching his arm but it was difficult when he would hardly make a peep or look anyone in the eyes.

But the breaking point was when the band was on their second song and Harry had to use the bathroom. He hadn’t been gone long but when he came back a guy was sitting where he had been who had his arm along the back of Y/n’s chair and Y/n was grinning at him the way he wished she’d do to him. And it was probably nothing. But who could know? Harry didn’t know why she invited him. She’d been perfectly nice to him the whole time. And he could tell she was trying to babysit a little. Trying to keep him in the conversation and pulling him along with her but Harry didn’t want any of that.

He hated situations like the one he was in. Meeting new people wasn’t his thing. He wasn’t good at it. So, with a sigh, he pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket and called for an Uber. He’d leave and make it easier for Y/n to enjoy her friends. He didn’t want to feel like a burden and that’s how he felt. And he certainly wouldn’t walk up to the guy sitting in his place and tell him that was where he’d been sitting.

Y/n realized Harry had been gone for quite a while. The band was starting their third song and she looked around the buzzing café and didn’t spot his lavender sweater and dark curls anywhere. She got up and went toward where the bathrooms were and noted both the men’s bathroom doors were open and no one was inside.

Her heart dropped when she thought about what he might have seen as he left the bathroom and Paul was sitting where Harry had been. And now she figured it was possible he just left. She could tell he’d gotten progressively more uncomfortable as more of her friends arrived.

When she didn’t spot him outside either she felt a pang of sadness and hurt. She knew he wasn’t trying to be mean by leaving without saying anything but still… She’d taken a chance and invited him out. Her first attempt at making a move with him and he just left.

Sure she understood that he was painfully shy but not even a heads up that he was leaving? She wished she’d gotten his number but of course, she’d have to wait until Monday to visit him at the library to find out what had happened.

.                 .                 .                

Harry regretted leaving like he did. After he got dropped off at his car he realized it would have been much kinder to say goodbye. But it was too late and now he’d gone and blown it with the girl of his dreams because he couldn’t get his act together. He was destined to be alone for the rest of his life. He wasn’t built for relationships and pursuing a lover.

Hell, he was still a virgin 28. Which was another issue he hated to think about. To tell someone that? Anyone? Social suicide. And certainly, Y/n would think he was some kind of freak.

He couldn’t even bring himself to eat that night. He felt awful for being awful. Y/n had been nothing but kind to him and he just left like an idiot. Surely that would be the end of that. He’d probably never see her again.

Except he did see her again. First thing Monday after opening up the library and starting the pot of coffee for Lin and Priscilla. He walked out when he heard the door chime with the idea that it was one of his co-workers but instead, it was Y/n with a frown on her face and a stack of books in her arms. The ones she had only checked on Saturday. There was no way she’d read them all so quickly.

She placed the books on the counter and Harry readied himself for a terrible interaction with her as his heart pounded in his chest.

“Why did you leave like that the other night?”

Harry dropped his gaze to his feet, “Um… I’m sorry. I felt really bad for that. I wasn’t thinking… I got nervous and just left. I’m sorry, Y/n.”

“Why?” She kept her eyes on him, his face downcast toward the floor.

“I’m too shy. I can’t talk to people. I saw someone sitting next to you and thought maybe it was better if I just left.”

“Well, that was kind of a jerk move. You really hurt my feelings. At first, I even felt bad about it. Like it was my fault.”

Harry’s eyes shot up to hers as he shook his head. He hadn’t wanted her to feel bad.

She continued, “But then the more I thought about it I realized… you probably just don’t even like me to begin with. So… I’m sorry I invited you to something that you hated and that spending time with me was so awful you had to sneak out. But I won’t bother you ever again. I’ll find a new library to go to so you don’t have to ever see me after this. I just wanted to drop the books off and tell you that you hurt my feelings.”

Harry could have cried. He even felt the smallest bit of liquid forming in his eyes as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and shook his head, “No. Please. Y/n… I’m really sorry. I’m awful at this. I do like you… I’m socially awkward and I didn’t mean to do anything that made you feel bad.”

He rushed his words out as he watched her dig into her purse to pull out her library card and place it on the stack of books with finality.

“I’m sure you’re sorry. All I can say is that I put myself out there and invited you so I could get to know you. I thought maybe you wanted to get to know me too. That was probably presumptuous of me. And now I just feel embarrassed.”

Y/n turned but Harry followed. He was desperate and felt like he was about to fall through the earth… that he’d be swallowed by gravelly dirt and sticks and worms and would never be able to claw his way out again.

A/N: If you're interested in reading more consider joining my Patreon! xoxo

general tags: @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @closureesny @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus@itjustkindahappenedreally @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @lc-fics @carmenxharry @harrrrystylesslut @elidoho @bananabk9756 @gotdrxnkonu @freedomfireflies @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa @lightsoutstyles @certainlysyko

#harry styles x reader #x reader #harry styles #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles x yn #firstpost #harry styles fan fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles fiction #harry styles angst #librarian!harry #harry #harry smut #harry edward styles #harrystyles

[profoundbondfanfic]

Dear Western Red Cedar #2409

Dear Western Red Cedar #2409 by MittenWraith (@mittensmorgul) Rating: Mature Word Count: 63k

For a decade, Dean had been living his dream life in Montana as a national park ranger. When Sam and Eileen followed him there a few years later, he had no idea how to tell them about his side gig as the author of a wildly popular series of novels loosely based on his own experiences. Well, minus the monster hunting. He never expected them to become bestsellers—or potentially a tv series, if his agent could only convince him to out his real identity. While Dean's also writing his latest bestseller on a deadline, a misunderstanding and his own social ineptitude leave him completely cut off, aside from his new pen pal who Dean only knows as Bluebird. Cas had spent the last two years desperate to hold Dean’s attention. Right when he felt they might be getting somewhere, Dean was called away on an emergency. Of course he had to go and lament about his troubles to a random tree, thanks to a distracting plaque inviting the public to participate in a new town project. To his surprise, he seems to hit it off— completely anonymously of course— with Western Red Cedar #2409. Through a ridiculous series of coincidences, it could be the best thing that ever happened to either of them.

The fluffy pining in this one is enough to form its own forest. Park ranger and secret writer Dean and socially inept librarian Cas really shine in this two person love triangle.

They are both so earnest in person and in writing and it's clear early and often that they will be so good together if they just get out of their own way. It was miscommunication with a touch of longing in person combined with a sweet vulnerability when they corresponded that had me wanting to lock them in a room until they figured it out.

This is the perfect comfort fic for when you need some soft pining with a soft landing.

#destiel #fic rec #spring celebration #mature #50k to 100k #au #human setting #modern setting #misunderstandings #librarian!castiel #writer!dean #park ranger!dean #pining!castiel #pining!dean #secret identity #two person love triangle #epistolary #author: mittenwraith #Dear Western Red Cedar 2409

[buckrecs]

𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 : 𝙅𝙪𝙡𝙮 ~ 𝙎𝙚𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧

masterlist | monthly fic rec masterlist

FLUFF

Puppy Eyes by @coffee-with-bucky

look at me by @aquariusbarnes

The Pull of Gravity by @navybrat817 (shifter au)

The Rejects by @/navybrat817

A Little Less Restless by @majestyeverlasting

The Sleepover by @littleredwolf

An Ol’ Fashioned Notion of Wartime and Whisky by @rookthorne

Honeyed Words of a She by @/rookthorne (mob!reader)

A Stroke of Luck by @/rookthorne (lumberjack!bucky)

Serenity by @/rookthorne (Mafia!reader)

A Clover’s Intuition by @/rookthorne (lumberjack!bucky)

Ducks on Plaster by @lovelybarnes

the great shirt debate by @rocketrhap3000

Barbie by @buckyalpine

Imagine | 2 by @noctumbra (chubby!bucky)

Don’t Tell Bucky by @lives-in-midgard

closer by @eviesaurusrex

bucky getting used to modern crap by @bucky-bucket-barnes

Around My Neck by @mcu1shots

These Hands Are Meant To Hold by @vanderlustwords

Timeless by @antiquarianfics

You Have A Girlfriend? by @/antiquarianfics

Something to Smile About by @jobean12-blog

Found Waldo by @lovelybarnes

Unchained Melody by @delusionalvenusian

valentine by @softlyspector

The Way We Were by @avintagekiss24

Midnight Escapades by @kiritella

Stunt Double by @/kiritella

Sleep and Cuddles by @/kiritella

Flowers And Things by @espinosaurusrexex

Little Mermaid by @buckyarchives

cuppa coffee by @irndad

A touch of color by @starrysebastians

Smooth Criminal by @redgillan (officer!bucky)

ANGST

Verbal Fight by @espinosaurusrexex

Tommy’s Party by @bucknastysbabe (college au)

Rescue You by @writing-for-marvel

not my one by @stxrvel (steve x reader)

Imagine by @/buckyalpine

One Night by @/buckyalpine

ours by @trashywormeateroffics

give me a minute by @amayatheowl

Seasons Change & I Carry You With Me by @/vanderlustwords

The Truth Is; I’m A Liar by @imtryingmyfuckingbest

Better Than Us by @/antiquarianfics

The Rain Will Always Gonna Come if You’re Standing With Me by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Love Me… by @/kiritella

You could never hurt me by @theeleggymeggy

SMUT

braid my hair, honey by @witchywithwhiskey

finally by @adrinktostopyourthirst (spy!reader)

cherry blossom by @noctumbra (librarian!bucky)

virgin mob bucky by @/buckyalpine

Take the edge off by @bitsandbobsandstuff

Hayloft by @wienerbarnes (40s au)

#bucky barnes fic rec #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #shifter!bucky #bucky x shifter!reader #bucky barnes oneshot #boyfriend!bucky #bucky barnes college au #chubby!bucky #librarian!bucky #mob!bucky #virgin!bucky #bucky x gn!reader #lumberjack!bucky #bucky x mafia!reader #shy!bucky #40s!bucky #bucky barnes 40s au #officer!bucky

[zzoomacroom]

Hey guys, soooo I have never written fanfiction in my life, but this just fell out of my brain for some reason. I don't know what came over me, but here's a little crackfic drabble for ya. Just a thousand words of Matthew being a complete idiot. Enjoy! (Yes, I know this premise has been done to death, but I'm having fun so shhhh)

Edit: now on ao3!

.......

So there Matthew was, just minding his own business, catching up with Merv in the gardens outside the palace, when a goddamned nuclear bomb went off.

"JEEZUS FUCK!" Mervyn bellowed, his cigarette dropping from his open mouth and into the pile of leaves he'd been raking. Matthew squawked and catapulted himself ungracefully to the top of the nearest tree.

Oh, so not a bomb then, thought Matthew as he watched the stunning display of fireworks that had erupted above the palace, gold and crimson embers now drifting lazily towards the ground. Still, what the hell was that all about? He would have to ask the boss--if there was some kind of celebration happening in the Dreaming, he wanted to join the party! Hopefully he'd be off his feathery tits on dream champagne before the day was over.

Matthew launched himself from the tree branch, ears still ringing as he made his way up to the palace. He soared through an open window to the throne room. Hmm, empty. So where was the party? He made his way to the library--Lucienne would know what was up.

"Heya, Loosh," he called as he circled down to the table where Lucienne was occupied with cleaning up a puddle of ink that was spilled all over the yellowed scroll she had been writing on. "What was up with the fireworks?"

"Hmm?" she glanced over to him, preoccupied. "Ah. That sometimes happens when...actually, it's probably better if you don't know. For your own sake," she adds pointedly, peering over her glasses at him.

Uh, wow. Ouch. "What? Aw, come on, don't leave me out of the loop. Ravens aren't invited to the party? Wait, why aren't you at the party?"

Lucienne stared at the raven, confusion and irritation mingling on her face. "What party? Lord Morpheus is in his private chambers, there is no--"

But Matthew was already hopping off the table and flying towards the nearest window. So it was a private, VIP kinda thing, then. He was a little hurt that he wasn't invited, but no matter. He would slip in and infiltrate the event, just in case the boss needed protecting from a disgruntled fae or something. And if he managed to dip his beak into some unattended booze, he felt he was sneaky enough that no one would be the wiser.

"You really don't want to know!" Lucienne called out exasperatedly as he flitted away, not looking up from her work. "Don’t say I didn't warn you!"

Yeah, yeah, he'd been to parties full of snooty elites before. Whatever weird shit they were into couldn't be any worse than what he'd seen during his recent trip to Hell. He circled upwards towards the highest tower and perched on the balcony outside the boss's private chamber. There was definitely something happening in there, judging by the noises coming from inside. It sounded like things were getting crazy--a shout, glass breaking, a thud like a body hitting the ground, a screech that may or may not have been human. Shit, the boss man might be in trouble! Good thing Matthew was here to...well, he wasn't really sure how he could help, but he'd figure something out. And he just really, really wanted to know what was going on! Curiosity may kill the cat, but the raven should be fine, right?

He darted into the darkened room and blinked as his eyes adjusted. Oh. No party, then. The boss was standing in the middle of the room, looking even more like he'd just sucked on a lemon than usual. His robe flicked around him and drooped off one shoulder, like he'd just hastily pulled it on (was that...a tentacle peeking out from under the hem?). And was he sweating? He didn't normally sweat, did he? And hold on--did he have cat ears?? Matthew stared, and just as he noticed the ears they receded down into his disheveled mop of hair and disappeared.

"What is it, Matthew?" the Dreamlord demanded icily.

"Uh...sorry to interrupt whatever...this...is, but I thought maybe you were in trouble. And I was just wondering what was up with the fireworks. Scared the bejeesus outta me and Merv," Matthew explained.

The boss looked confused for a moment before answering. "Ah. My apologies for the disruption," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm even as Matthew failed to get the hint. "The matter has been handled. You need not come to my defense."

At that, a poorly-stifled chuckle sounded from behind a marble pillar. "Sorry," the pillar mumbled sheepishly. The boss shot a withering glare at it and the pillar instantly dissolved into a pile of sand, revealing...

Ohhhh. "Um...hi, Hob," Matthew said with an awkward wave of his wing, wishing very much that he could dissolve into sand right about now. Hell, that may very well be his fate soon enough, based on the way the boss was glaring at him.

"Hey Matt," Hob replied with a bashful smirk. He was mostly naked except for an Elizabethan ruff, white knee-high stockings and a pair of 18th century shoes with little bows on them. And he was wearing the boss's helm. But not on his head (cool, cool, not like Matthew had followed the boss to Hell to get it back or anything). Oh, and he also had cat ears. Wonderful.

"Ya know, I better get going, I think Merv may need some help with--oh, yep, he set the garden on fire." Matthew peered out the window down to where Mervyn was currently shouting at no one and flailing around a steadily growing conflagration. "So I should go deal with that. Just wanted to check in, glad everything's good here. Uhhh nice to see you Hob, Boss. Not that I, uh, saw anything. Okay bye!" Matthew zoomed out the window before either of them could say anything else. God, he really needed a drink now.

.......

Morpheus continued to glare at the spot where Matthew had been perched as Hob came up and wrapped an arm around his waist.

"Right. So where were we?" asked Hob, apparently unphased by the whole incident.

"I think we should take this to the Waking if we wish to avoid any further interruptions," Dream replied through gritted teeth.

Hob chuckled and started to massage the knots out of his lover's shoulders. "Yeah, probably. Kids, right?" he sighed.

Morpheus raised an eyebrow at him. "Matthew is not my child."

"Isn't he, though?" Hob replied with a grin, peering over Dream's shoulder to watch Matthew and Mervyn frantically darting around the flaming pile of leaves, making no progress whatsoever in putting out the blaze. Morpheus merely sighed in exasperation.

#the sandman #sandman #sandman fanfic #sandman fanfiction #sandman crack #sandman crackfic #fanfiction #crack fic #dreamling #matthew the raven #mervyn pumpkinhead #lucienne the librarian #dream of the endless #morpheus #lord morpheus #hob gadling

[formosusiniquis]

in the library there lived a hobbit

Steve Harrington has always been a romantic. He spends his time in his head imagining possible futures with strangers, but one in particular has really caught his attention: the mysterious son of Wayne who comes to Baby and Me every week with his granddaughter Lucy.

When opportunity knocks, Steve is quick to suggest that this mysterious dad starts volunteering at the library. Enter Eddie Munson, a high school crush, and now Steve has to deal with the fantasy single dad he'd been imagining being real, in the library, and reading fantasy books to kids twice a week.

aka my fic for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson; Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington WC: 20k | T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tags/Themes: Children's Librarian!Steve Harrington; Single Dad!Eddie Munson; Getting Together; Modern AU; Fluff; Fantasy/Daydreams Vs. Reality

It's been an absolute joy to bring to life @oriarts beautiful artwork please, please check it out here

And a very special thank you to @thefreakandthehair for beta-ing this for me, check out her stuff here

There's a snippet below the cut, but you can of course read the full thing now on AO3

They didn't really write advice columns for men who work with kids and suffer from terminal cases of baby fever. He knows: he's checked. Although, the reference librarian who helped him was Robin, so Steve can't really rule out the possibility that she missed something in her haste to write her own article. 

Actually land a date, move out, have babies. Love the agonized aunt of your future children, Robin

It isn't like it was information he didn’t already know. Steve is very aware that he isn’t in the place for kids yet, mostly in the literal sense: romantically single, platonically in a two bedroom apartment with Robin with no space for their own stuff, let alone a kid. 

So instead, for thirty-five minutes a week, he gets his fix by leading Baby & Me.

“Give you some help settin’ up, Kid?”

Steve’s startled from his mindless rhythm of setting out the chairs in the activity room and brought back from his baby-fueled drifting by one of his favorite story time guests.

“They pay me to do this; not you, Wayne,” he says, not bothering to turn all the way around. “You can fill the silence if you really want to do something though.” Steve’s set him an impossible task: Wayne is a talker the way Dustin has good manners. The only grandpa who comes to story time, he’d been coming for a month before a particularly bold widow and her youngest granddaughter got a name out of him— but not the date she’d been hoping for.

He takes his usual seat in the circle, across from where Steve is still standing, arms crossed and empty.

“Where’s?” Steve asks.

Wayne quirks his brow down. When Steve follows it all the way down to the floor, Lucy is happily making her way to them in a slow and effortful crawl across the room.

“Been doin’ that since the last time we’s here,” Wayne says.

“Is that why you all missed last week?”

“Nah,” he waves the thought away, “Lucy Joan caught a cold. Didn’t think you’d want ‘er spreadin’ it to the rest of the kids. ‘Course her Daddy was a wreck, had to pry him out with a crowbar to get him to go to work this week.”

Pink cheeked with a gummy smile, Lucy is the picture of health today. She’s made it to Steve now, tugging on his pant leg trying to stand. Crawling is going to lead quickly into walking he suspects.

She doesn’t make it to standing, her tugging taking on a new message. Steve has a rule about picking up any of the babies, a need to create personal boundaries for him and them, but her big, brown doll eyes are harder to resist each week.

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things reverse bang #strvbb #stranger things reverse bang 2024 #librarian steve harrington #single dad eddie munson #my fic #steve and robin #modern era fic #stranger things fic

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 32

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, disordered eating, dissociation, allusions to abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: 👀

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You turn off the heater as you look one last time over the space. Everything's set away neatly as the falcon sits on oak leaves, its feathers carefully forged from the streaks of your brush. You're proud, you're so close to done and you've always struggled with following through. You'll be sure to tell Steve, you mean, Dr. Kemp at your next session.

Or tomorrow.

You catch yourself smiling at that thought. No, you shouldn't be so happy. He's your therapist. He's helping you. It's his job. But he said he's your friend, didn't he?

You close the garage door behind you and lock it. The TV blasts loudly from the front room and your mood quickly grays. You leave your slip-ons by the door and tiptoe towards the den. 

It's empty. Sports commentators sit around a desk talking about stats and numbers you don't understand. Andy isn't there. Only the empty beer bottles across the coffee table.

You go into the kitchen but don't find him there either. Is he upset? Maybe he went to bed.

You turn off the television and shut off the lights before you head upstairs. You pad up slowly, dragging your hand on the railing as you yawn. You'll make it up by cooking breakfast. For now, you just want to sleep. You hope some cuddling can placate him.

As you turn down the hall, you notice his room is open and the lights are off. Yet the door closer to you, the guest room where you used to sleep, is lit up. You near, your chest dropping as you hear the flutter of pages. 

You peek around the door frame and your lip trembles. He's not supposed to do that! Dr. Kemp said he can't do that.

You watch Andy as he holds your journal, scowling as he sits on the side of the bed. His shoulders slump unevenly as he curls his lips at the pages. He shakes his head and grumbles as he reads.

"Andy," you step into the doorway, "hey, that's mine."

You stomp towards him, your anger overriding any fear. You grab for the journal as he looks up at you, blue eyes cloudy and brow furrowed. He holds the book out of reach as he stands. You back-up as he towers over you.

"Is this yours too?" He shows the vibrator in his other hand, "hmmm," he slurs slightly as he looks down at the pages again, "'Dr. Kemp gave me a gift. I don't know if I should open it though. I don't know what to do with it…'" he curls a finger around the slender bullet toy and flips through the pages, reading more, "'Today Dr. Kemp taught me how to use the toy and relax. It felt good but it's hard to focus.'" He stops and swallows, "I tried but I couldn't think of Andy. It felt wrong."

He snaps shut your journal and flings it just past you, the force gusting against your side as you flinch. You whimper and back away. He was never meant to see that. Those are your personal thoughts. 

"Andy, that's my journal–"

"What? You still don't love me?" He lumbers forward, slightly off kilter, "you'd rather–" he shows the toy and clicks the button, "a piece of plastic!?"

"No, no, it wasn't… it's to help me so… so I know what to do. Dr. Kemp–"

"He gave you this. He gave you this and you didn't tell me," his voice grows louder and louder as you shrink smaller and smaller, "you won't even let me try to make you feel good."

He shakes his head, as if trying to escape some unseen veil. He whips the toy away from him, leaving a dent on the wall as the buzz stops and it bounces onto the floor. You fold your hands against your chest and retreat step by step.

"I'm scared, Andy," you sniffle. 

"And I'm hurt," he snarls and lunges for you.

You yipe and beat against his chest as he clutches your arms. He squeezes so tight you cry out. He's so strong you can't resist him. You push on his stomach, trying to wriggle free as he teeters around with you trapped.

"Andy, please, please, I never--I didn't mean anything. I was only… I was trying to be better. Like you want me to. Please, please," you put your hands on his thick arms, the strength cording in his biceps, "don't hurt me. Please. Please, I'll be better, I'll be better."

He stills, keeping his grip above your elbows. His long lashes flick and he scowls down at you, "you think I would hurt you. After everything I've done. You think I would…" his eyes glisten and he turns to grit his jaw at the wall. "You don't love me."

"No, Andy, I love you, I do," you babble. Just say what he wants. That's all you can do, "I do, please…"

"Then why are you so fucking scared?" He turns to you and grabs your chin, bending to look you in the eye. You squirm and grasp his wrist, on your toes as he nearly chokes you. "I've waited… I've been nice…" 

He turns with you almost dangling from his hold. Your feet drag on the floor as you stumble. You whine as he walks you back. You're dizzy with his force and the way he moves you so easily.

"Please," you croak.

"You wanna see what a real man is like," he shoves you so you hit the foot of the bed and land on your back, "not some stupid fucking toy."

He puts his hand to the front of his jeans and you gulp. Your heart pounds like thunder, vision flashing like lightning as the storm of horror consumes you. You push yourself up as he fumbles with his zipper.

"Andy, let's go to bed–"

"Shut up," he barks and pushes you back down.

You bite your tongue as you fall heavy again. You push yourself up onto the mattress, dragging yourself backwards away from him. He leaves his jeans open as he advances on you, staggering as he jostles the bed, climbing up on his knees.

He reaches for you and you turn, crawling away frantically, desperate to get to the edge. He grabs your waist and hauls you back, collapsing his weight on you. You writhe, clawing at the covers as they slip down from the bed.

You're stuck pinned beneath him as he breathes into your scalp. He smells like beer and spit. He suffocates you to a panic, the walls closing in and a fiery heat scalding across your flesh.

"And-dy," you whimper as he hooks his arm around your neck, forcing your head up as your arms flail across the bed, "Andy….please…"

"Shhh, baby, it's okay," he nuzzles your crown, "you wanna feel good. I'm gonna make you feel good. Huh?" He tightens his arm so his bicep presses against your throat, "or did you lie about that too?"

"N-no, please, it hurts," you sob.

"It won't hurt if you stop," he bends his arm until you can't breathe, jutting his chin against your skull, "stop fucking moving."

You freeze. His timbre alone is a threat. He puffs, the alcoholic taint curdling in your nose as he brings his other arm between you.

As he keeps his arm under your neck, he forces you to arch your spine, his nails scratching your lower back as he grips the back of your pants. You close your eyes as you quiver. You feel your chest tearing apart, your nerves pinging wildly, your entire being falling to pieces.

Love, love, they all say love before they hurt you.

He rips down the back of your jeans and growls. The force of it jerks your limp body. You try not to think as his hot breath slips down the side of your face.

He rolls the denim down, quickly tugging down your panties and baring your ass. You squeak as your naked flesh rubs against the vee of his open zipper. He pulls his hand away, leaning on one knee as he lifts his pelvis, feeling between your bodies.

He grunts and shifts, further bouncing the bed under you. He plants both knees and snakes his arm beneath you, keeping his other at your throat. He wiggles as he feels along your pelvis, nudging your legs as far apart as they can go against the denim.

He dips his hips down as you feel his tip along the curve of your ass. Your heart drums behind your ears, drowning out his raspy groans as his fingers frame your cunt and part your lips. You clench, bracing the bed as salty tears slip free and stain the blanket beneath. 

He catches his tip between his knuckles and jerks. He slides to your entrance and prods, tilting awkwardly until he can line up. He pushes, straining you dryly. He bucks, trying to force his way in and you shriek.

He grunts and tries again, the chafe sparking a fire inside of you. You reach back, grasping the slack fabric of his jeans as you keep your other hand fisted around the blanket. He thrusts again, grinding in another inch as you exclaim.

You babble and bawl as he rocks. You feel his frustration at the resistance of your body. You try to let him in, try not to feel and just let it happen. 

As he splits you, burying himself deep, you let out a horrid cry. Your head dangles over his forearm as you sob against the bedding and he puffs into the crook of your neck. He eases back slowly before sinking in again. Your squirming does little to deter him.

His nose tickles your temple and he bows down to kiss your cheek as he begins a tempo. Long, slow, and torturous. Each dip inside is worse than the last. 

"Baby, doesn't that feel good? Don't I feel good? Hmm, better than the toy?" He kisses your cheek again, "you feel good on me."

You gulp and choke on the eruption of tears. His groans and growls seep into you, his body rumbling with the delight he takes in your destruction. Your terror fades to disbelief and the well dries up, leaving you silent and staring.

"Tell me, honey, tell me I feel good. Tell me it's better." His hand creeps up to grope your chest as he pumps into you.

You shudder and turn your face down. You hide in the darkness of your eyelids. Your body is racked in agony and repulsion.

"Yes…" you utter as his arm loosens around your neck, "yes, it's…" you squeal as he ruts too hard, "good!"

"Mmmm, yeah, baby, this is what you want. You're just too afraid… this is what we need. Both of us…" he sighs as he fucks you into the bed.

He flattens you against the mattress as his pelvis claps against you. He keeps you arched awkwardly as he rams into you over and over. The tension tautens his muscles and he drops his head down to nibble at your ear.

This isn't happening. It isn't happening. It can't be. It can't. 

You repeat your denial over and over. Trying to convince yourself that this isn't real. That you can't feel a thing. 

You're not in your body. You're somewhere else. You're not there. Even if you are, it won't last forever. It will end and you'll be left to wallow.

Alone. Amber isn't coming to comfort you now.

🕊️

The world is foggy. You stare into nothing, your surroundings nothing more than shadows. You're in a void. You never want to think or feel again.

You won't cry. Not anymore. You have nothing left.

A footstep makes you wince. You can hear… him. You roll onto your side and whimper. You hurt everywhere.

You smell him on the pillow and the blankets. You reek of him. You realise then you're not in the same bed, you're in his.

His voice drones indiscernible outside the room as you hide beneath the duvet. His tone brings you back, him cooing as he carries you down the hall, laying you down, undressing you, touching you all over. Doing that again.

You suck in your lower lip and fight the tide rolling under the surface. He gets closer, you can hear him more clearly even if you try not to. The door opens and his shadow looms against the wall. 

"Thanks for checking in. No, she's okay. We went out for breakfast," he explains as you feel his gaze through the layers between you, "something upset her stomach, she's laying down." A pause, the garbled response from the phone speaker, "I'll tell her you say hi. She should be fine in no time. Yep, okay, doc, thanks again."

He sighs as he hangs up. He puts the phone down heavily and nears the bed. You feel it dip by your feet as he climbs up, crawling up your body as he tugs at your only shield. He peels away the duvet, slipping beneath it as he once more smothers you beneath him. 

"Mmm, honey," he holds himself over you as he urges you flat on your back, "you're delicious…" he kisses along your shoulders and across your chest, "beautiful, you know that?" He purrs, the tip of his nose sending chills through you, "you're a bad girl, keeping all this from me…" he pinch your nipple with his teeth and you squeak, "will you be a good girl for me, dove?"

You nod frantically. Whatever it takes to make him stop touching you. You'll do whatever he wants if it means he'll leave you alone. Maybe not forever, but eventually.

"Good," he kisses along your stomach, "that's all I ever wanted… to be good to you. To be good for you."

Your muscles tie and you lock your hands in fists. He descends your body inch by inch. You roll your eyes back, drifting into oblivion.

It's not forever. Nothing is.

#don't speak #andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #series #defending jacob #librarian au #fresh #steve kemp

[wolfstarlibrarian]

*gets an ask from someone looking for a fic*

Me: Oh! I’ve read that!

*goes to look for fic*

~~~~~~3 hours later~~~~~~~

Me: REVEAL YOURSELF! WHERE ARE YOU!!!!

*continues searching*

*gives up*

*goes to the next ask out of the overflowing inbox*

Me: Oh! I’ve read that!

#and the cycle repeats #SORRY TO ALL 1500 OF THE ASKS IN MY INBOX #Drowns in lost fics #one day #wolfstar #librarian talks #rants #tumblr stopped counting my asks there are so many that now I have to go to desktop