#the librarians fic

[dapper-nahrwhale]

Home is the first grave

(a leverage/the librarians crossover where Eliot and Jake are twins)

Eliot had spent most of his life learning how to appease angry occasionally drunk men. To force their eyes at him and not someone smaller and more vulnerable.

As always, the first angry drunk man was his father.

[link here]

Eliot had spent most of his life learning how to appease angry occasionally drunk men. To force their eyes at him and not someone smaller and more vulnerable

As always, the first angry drunk man was his father. In the small everyone-knows-everyone-knows-everyone-else-secrets little town he'd lived his whole life in, there was no escape. He'd been a protector his whole life. He had never known anything else.

Never.

Never .

Not since he'd been five years old and told he now had a little sister and he knew this is who he would have to be. For her. To cause trouble and force the eyes of an angry drunk man unto himself and not at her when they all screwed up.

It was one of many a game they played. Who can be quiet the longest. Who can hide the quickest. Who can run away the fastest.

Eliot always lost. It was his job . To lose the little games they made up and keep her safe from the angry drunk man.

He didn't always do his job. He didn't always want to do his job.

But he was a fighter. He was born fighting. He knew how to take the punches easily.

It was who he was , it was all he'd ever known.

The day his father sat him down after little Hannah was born and told him he's a big brother to a little sister now, and it was his duty to protect her, he never thought it would have to be from him.

But that's just how it went.

Eliot protected. He had to. It was all he'd ever known. And many a time, he did not want to have to.

Many a time he was exhausted and just wanted a break from it all.

(This is one of those times.)

“Go back inside, Hannah.” He hears the always creaky screen door open and the stomps of an angry 6 year old.

He also heard the clatter clunk of the old pick up truck tearing away down the dirt and mud driveway, most likely off to the bar.

Eliot is scrunched up on stairs of the back porch, knees tucked under his chin and holding them tightly.

If he held himself as tight as possible, he couldn't break.

He couldn't.

He scrubs the leaking tears away from his face. He's 11 now, he's too old to cry, even if his lip was definitely busted and his arm hurts funny and his head aches and he feels like tearing his shortly cropped hair out.

He covers his face with his hands and misses how his longer hair would cover up his face so he could hide his baby crying more easy. He didn't want her to see how much it was getting to him. He had to be strong, tough, he had to be able to fight. He couldn't afford to be soft and sweet. He had a family to protect.

“Ellie,” She says in the way only an exasperated world weary 6 year old in sparkly pajamas holding a stuffed pig can, “you're ah El- idiot .”

“Nice wordplay, make it up yourself, Hanna- Barbera ?” Eliot sniffed and gives a tight little smile at his own joke.

He can feel her eyes roll as she plops down next to him, “That's not my name.”

“And my name's not Ellie.” He says in a deadpan that he knows she thinks is his Serious Voice.

She gasps like that new piece of information upends her entire worldview. And because she's 6, maybe it does.

“Don't lie to me.” She grabs his sore face with stout determined fingers, dropping the stuffed pig in the dirt where it belongs.

“Ow-ow, ok fine, you're right. I'm Ellie. Ok, just lemme go.” He relents immediately.

“Fine.” She pushes his face away from her so hard he nearly falls over.

She takes advantage of his discombobulation and jumps into his lap, pig back in hand.

“I want Mama back. If she was here, maybe Papa would stop.” She settles down and starts absently playing patty cake with his hands.

He didn't ask stop what, he knew what she meant. Just stop .

But Mama couldn't come back. Hannah was very smart, smarter than Eliot that's for sure, but she still didn't really get it.

He didn't know how many more times he could tell her before she got it, “She's gone and she ain't coming back and the sooner ya grow up and get that then-”

Then Hannah bit his hand.

“Ow, what the hell?” He snatched his hands away from her mouth.

“Stop sounding like Papa an start sounding like Ellie! I told you you're ah El-idiot right now, not an Eliot!” She looked angrily up at him, and for good measure, stomped on his foot hard with her tiny sneakers. It didn't really hurt, but it was the principal of the thing.

“You're weird and I don't get you!” He shouted at her.

“You're weirder, El-idiot!” She screamed and slammed the screen door so hard the handle snapped off, locking him outside.

“Dammit, Hannah!” He tugged at the door but it didn't budge.

“I'm not talking to you or Pa anymore, just Brisket!” She hugged the stupid pig tighter.

“Brisket can't talk you know!” He banged at the screen. He didn't want to break it, because that meant he'd have to fix it but he was pretty pissed at her.

“Yeah she can!” Hannah shoved that stupid pig in his face.

“Uh-uh!”

“Uh-huh!”

“You're just mean because you don't got any friends like me and Brisket got!” She taunted him, accurately.

“I do too have friends! At least I got friends that are real.” Like Jacob, except not really, “Like you Hannah.”

“Well-well-well, we ain't friends no more when you're mean! ” She sputtered.

“Come on, Hannah! Open the door.”

“No!”

“The handles gone, I'm getting all bit up out here, come on.” He was, wafting away the mosquitos that had decided hed make a tasty meal.

“Nuh-uh."

“I'm sorry, I won't be mean no more, just please. I gotta fix it up ok?” He pleads. If it will get her to open the door, he'll do just about anything.

She hesitates, “Only if you do my hair all up for school tomorrow.”

“Ok.” He shrugs, he would have to do it anyways.

“And you gotta give Brisket a bath.” She adds with a thoughtful nod at the pig.

“No I don't.” That was in line he did not want to cross. It was just a damn stuffed animal.

“Yes, you do, or I ain't letting you back in.”

“Hannah.” Eliot gave his most stern dad-adjacent sternest look he could.

But by the cherry red rage flooding her face, it did not take well.

“I miss Jake more than I'd ever miss you !” She threw the door open to smack him in the face with it, “Ah least he's nice to Brisket!”

“Well, he ain't here either!” Eliot shouted back, holding his now definitely bruised nose. More so yelling at himself than her.

But she still cried the same no matter his intentions.

“Hannah, I didn't mean…” He reached out to brush away her tears and she ran.

He heard the thumping as she stomped upstairs to her room.

Well, that went. Badly.

“Stupid Jake, off at his stupid smartie school, makin me fix the damn door…” He muttered to himself as he set about fixing his mess.

Well, Eliot lied. He'd been a big brother for longer than 5 years old. He was born one, actually.

It's just. Jacob was smarter, he had a chance to get out of this little town that had its claws dug deep in them all. There's no other place Eliot can even think of calling home. He doesn't understand how Jacob was able to leave it behind so easily. Leave him behind.

He can get leaving behind their fucked up dad and this town too small for his big brain, but. He didn't realize he would be left alone with the rest.

There was no way Eliot would ever get out of this town. He'd live and die here, just like their daddy.

The thought made him sick.

At least Jacob got out, was at some fancy important private school for a semester. Maybe he'd come back, maybe he wouldn't. Eliot tried not to blame him for it.

Tried.

He couldn't help the course bitter feeling that flooded him intermittently.

He staved it off with projects around the house, with keeping Hannah occupied, with anything he could. If he sat and thought about it, he wasn't sure if he'd scream or cry or lose his mind.

He doesn't blame Jacob for trying to get out. He just wishes he could have gone with him.

It had been their own secret plan to get out of this town together. Out of this house, their room. All of it.

But that all changed when Mama died. It was sudden and unpredictable and everything just got worse after it.

And Jacob, always the more peaceful people person of the two, he couldn't always keep the peace. So it was up to Eliot to do that he was good at and fight.

And so, Eliot made damn well sure the eyes of the angry drunk man were always on him, not Jacob, and never Hannah. It was his job. And he'd be damned if he didn't do his job well.

So, really he can't blame Jake for leaving, just for leaving him.

-

(I've only seen the first episode of The librarians, so once I see more I'll do more!)

[lucy-frostblades]

my gift for the @the-librarians-gift-exchange!! so excited to finally post this, it was so fun to work on this!!! <3333

pairings: cassandra & ezekiel, ezekiel & everyone, team as family

word count: 1,249

rated: t for swearing

taglist under the cut

@blueskiesandstarrynights @sleepyandbi @canadiankat @thedragonemperess @depressedtransguy @disdoorted-crows @starchaserbaby @genuine-possum (lemme know if u want to be added or removed)

[noodles-and-tea]

Back at it with my enchanted merthur shenanigans

[kdsantell21]

Well, here it is y'all. The season 1 finale of "The Librarians: And the Knight Guardian"!

It's a twisty one y'all, and is gonna change everything.

[choccy-milky]

how to scare a goody two-shoes ravenclaw 👵🏻

[blushsturns]

★pre-party texts with bad boy!matt x librarian!reader ★

☆ masterlist

taglist:

@sturnshood @strangelife122 @jessie-essie @rina3476 @chrissturnioloslvt @sturnslutz @sturns-mermaid @matthewsturnsgf @christmastreecake @rinahasspots @222wall876 @chris-hallelujah @izzylovesmatt @strniloslvts @oopsiedaisydeer @sophand4n4 @xclusivedesires @mattsplaything @katiebug3851 @poppingmypussy4chris @mattsbunnyxx @pair-of-pantaloons @chrissweetheart @slutformatt17 @sturnl0ve @pasteldreams @h3arts4harry @marrykisskilled @wh0remikasas @sturnzslut @camzeecorner @alesturniolos @emely9274 @2muchofaslvt @y3sterdaysproblem @sturnslux3 @bowsandsturniolos @moustacherryismyhusband @rafesapprentice @ivysturnss @headzgonewest @strawberryghost3 @il0vey0um0st @violetstxrniolo777 @bigbeefybitch @raesturns @courta13 @sofieeeeex @tylerthecreatorsglazr @kittyyyyykats

a/n:

the next part involving the party is coming soon! hit up my inbox if you wanna chat about these two or just anything in general. :)

-nessa ღ

[queenofglassbeliever]

from a Sarina and Jacob fic I'm working on.

M

"My destiny's here, but yours doesn't have to be." "I want to be with you." Hand raised; she rested her palm against his cheek. Assured eyes bore into his and just as certain as he melted into her touch, he was swayed by her sincerity.

U

Underground, beneath a mile of rock, Sarina was at ease. Which is something she never expected to feel in a space such as this.

S

She hadn't realized she’d been holding her breath. When Jake had asked her to meet him at St. John's Bridge she'd no idea what to expect. This room, this vast incredible room was something she could never have imagined.

I

In an instant, that excitement all but vanished from her face. Bewilderment darkened her eyes.

C

"C’mon, I think you’re really going to like this."

WIP Word Game

tagged by: @littleblackraincloudofcourse tagging: @heatherfield @queenofglassbeliever @thesecondbatgirl @noneedforbloodpressure @ossidae-passeridae @ouzoathena11 @mid-nighttiger @brachiosaurus-off @thegreencarousel and whoever else wants to (since all my willow mutuals are tagged but consider yourselves tagged again) rules: you will be given a word. then you share one sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that starts with each letter of your word!

The word was ECLAIRS.

from the P&P spite fic:

E

Each word was bitter in her mouth, each thought and feeling she felt at hearing their father’s casual disregard tasted like ash. She had known, of course, how little her father cared for her and her younger two sisters. It was evident in his actions, or lack thereof, towards them.

C

Christmas came and went, with it the Gardiners and Jane. The removal of Mr Bingley and the other Netherfield occupants from the neighbourhood had affected Jane tremendously, and she did not begrudge her sister the need for a change. But it did not surprise her either that neither of her Gardiner Uncle and Aunt gave their younger nieces any of the attention and consideration they gave their elder.

L

Lizzy’s chiding “Papa!” had too much laughter in it for Mary to take it seriously. Kitty reached out to clasp her hand. Mary gripped back just as tight.

A

And Mary, at least, was rather certain their father would accuse them of eavesdropping purposefully, ignoring the fact that this was the little patch of garden their mother had cultivated with much love and therefore Kitty’s favourite place to sketch and Mary’s safe haven. It was hardly their fault that the conversations from Mr Bennet’s study carried over into the area, especially when the window was open as it was now.

I

“I wonder at his coming here to find himself a bride.” Lizzy’s disdain was evident. Mary knew it well, for all her sister tried to veil her criticisms as advice.

R

Relief flooded her veins and she clutched at her Uncle's sleeve tightly, as if a child in need of reassurance, secure in the knowledge that her Uncle, at least, unlike her father, would give it. He pat her hand gently and then nudged her to her feet. Mary stumbled a little, and then on finding her footing, found her voice too. “Lydia!”

S

She might have been only fifteen, but Lydia was not unaware of the ills of the world. She did pay attention, even if she preferred to act as though life was a lark. “And we will take care of each other.”

Your word is MUSIC.

[navybrat817]

His Favorite Person

Pairing: Librarian!Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Summary: You want to be more than friends with Ari.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff, sweetness, friends to lovers (of sorts), Ari Levinson (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @lovebittenbyevans requested Librarian AU, friends to lovers with Ari, and to dig his Toes in the Sand (fluff) with prompt #7 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You stood on your tiptoes to reach a book on the top shelf. You huffed out a breath and tried to stretch a little bit more, but your fingers barely skimmed the spine. It would’ve been easier to ask for some help, but you didn’t want to bother Ari. You bothered him enough during his shifts.

You should’ve known he was only standing a few feet away, watching the display with a smirk on his ridiculously handsome face. “Need some help?” He asked.

Managing not to fall into the shelf from the slight scare, you pointed to the book you tried and failed to grab. “If you wouldn’t mind?” You asked, dragging your eyes from his chest to his eyes. It was like looking into a storm, but warmth lingered in a way that told you not to fear any destruction left in its wake. “Please?”

Rugged was the word that came to mind whenever you glanced at him. A dark beard to match his long hair and jeans that showed off his large thighs, he even had the sleeves of his tight shirt rolled up so you could see his veins. The man could've easily passed for an adventurer instead of a librarian and you were certain he caught you staring at him more than once.

It wasn’t polite to stare, but was it fair for him to be so good looking?

“Don’t mind at all,” he said, plucking it from the shelf and placing it in your waiting hand. “You could’ve just asked me to grab it from the start, but you just had to be stubborn.”

“I wasn’t being stubborn,” you argued. He raised an eyebrow in response. “You just have a lot to do and I didn’t want to bother you,” you said, hugging the book to your chest.

“You were being stubborn, you’ve never once bothered me, and it’s part of my job to help.” Ari made a show of looking around, his silky hair flowing with the motion. “But I guess you’re right. I have so much to do since it’s so crowded today,” he joked.

It wasn’t a secret that the library was hit and miss in town. So many wanted their stories electronically and didn’t appreciate the feel of a book in their hands. Ari did what he could though since he took over as head librarian. Between overseeing the daily operations and managing his employees, he took his job seriously. You had no doubt he’d bring a much needed spark back to the place.

“Yeah, well, thanks for your help,” you said.

“Another romance novel, huh? Didn’t you just bring one back today?”

Your face grew warm before you nodded. Of course, he’d notice that. “You know me,” you mumbled, hugging the book tighter.

He took a step closer, searching your face with a gentle gaze. “Hey, there’s nothing wrong with reading what you love.”

There was no judgement in his eyes and that made the corner of your lips lift in a smile. “I appreciate that.”

Being single, reading books like that allowed you to dive into various worlds and experience love. You could immerse yourself and imagine having a partner who would not only overcome obstacles with you, but would ensure that there would be a happily ever after. In a world often dark and negative, the escape gave you hope that one day you'd manage to find someone who could love you so deeply. You didn't want to think that romance only existed in books.

If only you were brave enough to take a chance and ask Ari out.

“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you,” you began, walking beside him to head to the front desk. He took up a good portion of the aisle with his beefy frame and you had to tell yourself again not to stare. “I spoke with my boss about adjusting my hours and they approved it! I can do Story Time on Tuesdays.”

“That’s great!” The smile on Ari’s face was worth moving your schedule around. “I really appreciate you doing that for me. I owe you one.”

You wished you would’ve teasingly suggested a date as a form of payment, but you shrugged. “You don’t owe me anything. You’re my friend and that’s what friends do,” you said, cringing inwardly. It sounded lame to your ears.

“Yeah. Friends.” His smile faded slightly as he walked around the counter. “Just this book today, right?” He asked, slipping into his professional tone. Still pleasant to hear, but a touch of the usual warmth was gone. Like you were just like every other person who walked into the library.

“Yeah,” you replied, passing over your library card. “Did I say something wrong?” You added, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No, you didn’t,” he said, his large hand placing your card on top of the book. He passed it over to you and you couldn’t ignore the jolt of electricity that moved through you when your fingers touched. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s just…” Putting him on the spot wasn’t your intention and you didn’t want to point out his slight change in demeanor. “You do consider us friends, right?”

You didn't have a lot of close friends, but you considered Ari to be one of them. At the very least, he was friendly with you. It was possible that you read things wrong. Engrossing yourself in one too many books could’ve blurred your version of reality.

“Of course, I do. You’re my favorite person,” he replied. You leaned on the counter with a relieved and dopey smile at his statement. Were you really his favorite person? “But just because you’re my favorite person doesn’t mean I have to be yours.”

“But you are my favorite person,” you blurted out, covering your mouth when your voice echoed. “Sorry,” you added in a hushed whisper. It was a library. You needed to be somewhat quiet.

He chuckled and leaned on the counter, too, his eyes zeroed on you. “Oh, I am, am I? So, you don't actually come here to borrow romance novels. You’re just really looking for an excuse to see me.”

Your heart pounded, but you took a breath to keep your cool and hopefully not make a fool out of yourself. “I come here for the books and to see you, Ari,” you said carefully, the corner of your lip twitching in a smile. “But you obviously want to see me, too, otherwise you wouldn’t have asked me to do Story Time.”

“Well, yeah,” he smirked before softly adding, “Seeing you is the best part of my day.”

How did your knees not buckle? “It is?”

“Yeah, it is.” He smiled, almost to himself. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did, but you can ask me another question,” you teased.

He stretched across the counter a bit more. “If I'm your favorite person and you're mine, why haven't we gone on a date?”

For a moment, it felt like the room sucked up all the oxygen. Breathing should've been natural to do, but you couldn't inhale as you stared at him. Glancing down at the book to get your bearings, it dared you to take a chance. A leap of faith. With a deep breath, you did.

“Because I've been waiting for you to ask me out and you haven't yet. And I've been too chicken to ask you myself,” you replied. You regretted the words the moment he stood up straight, his expression unreadable. He didn’t actually want that, did he? “I’m sorry. Forget I said that. Please.”

A second passed and his lips slightly parted, but he didn't speak. His silence said it all. Nodding with a heavy heart, you turned to walk away from the counter. You could lick your wounds later as you read another happily ever after.

“Shit. Wait.” Ari moved with impressive speed to block your path, his grip gentle on your arms to stop you. “Did you mean it? You really want to go on a date with me?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I do, but I understand if-”

“Thank fuck,” he sighed, your eyes rounding at his words. “I’ve been wanting to ask you out for days and I got worried there for a moment with the ‘friends’ comment that you didn't want anything beyond friendship.”

Your stomach did somersaults. Ari liked you. He wanted to ask you out. God, you almost ruined things before they started. “I’m sorry I worried you, but trust me. I'm very interested in you, Ari,” you smiled, forgetting you were in the library as you stepped closer. “And if you ask me, some of the best romances come from friendships.”

“They do.” He smiled back, his cerelain eyes lit up like yours. “And our story will be more romantic than any of those books you’ve been reading.”

Biting your lip, you watched as his gaze dropped to your mouth. What would it feel like if he bit your lip? “I don’t know. That’s a pretty tall order.”

He brought his mouth to your ear. “I’m a very determined man,” he whispered. No doubt he felt you tremble in his grasp. “Saturday night?”

“It’s a date.”

A date and the beginning of your love story.

We know this man would plan the perfect date, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[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.

[wolfstarlibrarian]

To everyone who may have just joined from TikTok…

If you want a library of Wolfstar fanfics, check out my Card Catalogue.

If you want to learn more about writing fanfic and making friends on tumblr, check out the Reference Section.

If you want more Wolfstar fics, check out @wolfstarwarehouse and if you want Drarry fics, check out @thedrarrylibrarian

And if you want to adopt an author or kidnap one to them your best friend or even partner, leave comments on their posts and fics. And then DM them until they propose a sleepover. 😇

[buckrecs]

𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 : 𝙅𝙪𝙣𝙚

masterlist | monthly fic rec masterlist

FLUFF

Exhausted by @moonvis

Uncle Bucky by @/moonvis

Trying To Study by @pitubea1910

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

Trouble Doubled by @certifiedskywalker

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

[dapper-nahrwhale]

Home is the first grave

(a leverage/the librarians crossover where Eliot and Jake are twins)

Chapter 2

[read it here]

When their Mama managed to herd them all in the old car to Sunday church services, the two of them would hide in the back pews together. And only then would Jake light up and talk Eliot’s ear off about whatever century stain glass or old creepy statues or fancy architecture or something else.

Hiding down in those church pews, it was like magic was real and nothing could hurt them.

The morning light glistened through the stained glass, a kaleidoscope of colors bursting on the brick white walls, all telling stories fragile as glass and paper ever could. The columns and pillars are taller than giants towering over them, the high and hallowed architecture singing loud and silent. Statues older than God line the halls, all praying for some kind of saving.

There were stories to be told behind everything.

But any time someone looked at Jake or passed by them, he'd bite his tongue, get all quiet, and look down at his dirty shoes. It was shame or guilt, something ugly and terrible that ate him up from the outside in. The bright smile and life in his eyes shriveled up and died.

It really was one of the most horrible things Eliot ever saw.

He'd never hated their father more in those moments.

Eliot would glare daggers at anyone who did look at Jake, but the damage was done. It was too late already. They'd got him thinking he couldn't, shouldn't, be smart and enjoy his little art things.

Sure, Eliot didn't get the appeal, but he could see clear as day how happy it made Jake. He just wishes Jake could see it.

But the worst thing is, he got it. Why he hid his talents. Why he didn't tell anybody just how smart he was, why he did all this. He understood, it's a small town and you gotta play your part in your own little boxes, if you stepped out of line bad things could come your way if you weren't careful.

Small towns could be your home or your grave, but it had to be something you carry with you. It just depends how close to the chest you play your cards. Community or cruelty. The rumors fly fast and hit hard, and you don't wanna get kicked out of the only place you've known. It's hard to love something so dearly, something that will kick you to the curb the second you don't stick to how it should be. It's hard to leave and it's harder to stay.

Jake saw value and beauty just about everywhere in the world. Eliot just wished he could see it all in himself.

Eliot knew all he was good for was taking a punch, but Jake was so much smarter than all that. He knew all this stuff about art movements, and about different architecture styles, and could recite poetry on the spot. He'd read books about different languages, research history about all sorts of things Eliot didn't have a clue about. It was so impressive and incredible and Jake didn't really think so.

He'd taught himself all kinds of stuff in secret, skipping out on football practice to stay in at the library. Reading all these old books. He could be something so much bigger than this little town if he'd just let himself.

If he'd just let himself take the more advanced classes, he could do some really impressive stuff and get a scholarship into some fancy college and get out of this two pony town.

Eliot knew he didn't have a chance in hell to get out of this town on his own. He knew that.

But Jake wasn't him, he was better than him. He could do what Eliot couldn't. He had a real shot at leaving. And the fact he refused to even think about it, pissed Eliot off more than anything else.

He said he had an obligation to his family, he couldn't just leave them.

An obligation to their dad. He couldn't just leave.

The company's been better. Eliot had heard Pop yelling on the landline downstairs about something or other going wrong. Pop ain't in charge of it yet, but with the way Grandpa's health has been going, it won't be too long now before he is in charge.

And that could only ever spell disaster.

-

He'd always blamed Jake when something went wrong. Never himself.

Said Jake was too weak and cowardly, that Eliot wouldn't always be around to cover for his screw ups. All he was good for was brick dumb muscle.

All he ever did was hide behind Eliot.

It was true, but only because Eliot refused to let them be seen.

Eliot would protect them as much as he physically could, but he couldn't protect them in the other ways.

Jake never took to fighting the way Eliot did. As a release, as a refuge, as a requirement. He was far from bad at it, but he lacked the sort of drive and insight that Eliot had. He didn't want to fight. He didn't need to.

He did it to survive, but he didn't enjoy it. Not to say Eliot did, but he always took pride in a job well done.

Boxing and football and wrestling were some of the sports they'd had their hands in. They were good at them, not great, but good. Jake had always been better at team sports and Eliot had shined solo. How it's always been.

But no matter what they did, it was never good enough for him.

It would never make up for the fact they were disappointments deciding to be different than he wanted them to be.

It was hard not to taste his resentment of them. Especially Jake. As much as he tried, he hadn't yet gotten thick enough skin to ignore all the slights and digs at him.

He'd ignore Hannah, blame Jake for every little thing, and push for Eliot to be just like him.

Living there was suffocating. It would kill them in the end, he knew it would.

-

Jake can smell his mom's chili recipe. The mix of sweet and spicy chili peppers, fresh tomatoes, an absolute insane amount of garlic, and simmering beef.

He hadn't had her chili in years. He can't even remember the last time he'd had it. The memory the smell conjures, chokes him all up.

He misses her more than he ever had. It's a cutting feeling, the yearning for days long past. When life was simple and love was easy. When the worst pain he'd felt was a scraped knee, when summer stretched on forever.

Then he remembered. It's summer. They're staying over at their grandparents house. It's morning. And he can smell his mom's chili.

He stumbles sleepily down the stairs to the kitchen.

The sun is melting down the curtains, the world glows in celebration, in mourning.

It's mourning.

The chatter and clunks from the kitchen as his Grandma and Hannah are crowded around the stove. Hannah's tall enough now that she doesn't need the dusty stool in the corner to see over the counter. And when did that happen, he looked away for a second and she grew up tall. He wonders what else happened to her when he wasn't looking.

The chili has to simmer and cook all day before it's ready. Really it should take a couple days to get the flavors just right, but he can't stand smelling it for that long he thinks.

It smells like longing.

It smells like home.

It's the morning of their Grandpa's funeral.

They don't talk about Eliot’s black eye or how Hannah won't meet their eyes or Jake staring blank at his book under the table.

They never do say things in such words. It's just not what they do, not who they are to bring such things up into the light. Those are reserved for quiet conversations in the dead of night.

They all know what's going on, they know they can't stop it, they know it's bad. They deal by not dealing with it. By pretending it isn't happening. By pretending everything is fine. They're very good at it now, they've had lots of practice over the years.

It festers like an old wound, unchecked and infected.

It always does.

-

It's really a beautiful ceremony. In the church they all grew up in, the one they hadn't been in since their mom died. It hasn't changed much at all. Same fire and brimstone pastor, same tittering old ladies gossiping, same everything.

Well, there's been a few changes in statues and other little things. But the bones of the building always stay the same. It was built like this, all the same.

He doesn't show up. They had been staying with their grandparents since they found the diagnosis earlier in the year. Only so much time was left. And he never showed up at all during it.

It was a strange adjustment. Took some getting used to, but now Eliot dreads going back to live with him.

It was nice to not have to fight so much all the time. To rest, to cook, to laugh.

He's going to miss it like a limb cut off.

It makes him feel like a piece of shit, that he is more torn up about what the aftermath of Pappy's death will be than him actually dying. Anyone seeing him cry would assume such, they wouldn't think he's grieving the wrong thing.

But they won't see him cry. He stands stoic and jaw clenched tight enough to crack, he can't afford to break. Not right now. He's holding Hannah as she's holding back tears and holding Jake's hand as he's holding the pew in front of them and staring at the ceiling.

The potluck afterwards is mostly somber, with a touch of revelry. There's food of all kinds, including the chili from this morning. They eat and tell stories and laugh and cry.

They decide to spend the final night there with their grandma. She had wanted them to come back to help sort through his things in the following week, but said she needed the house to herself for a bit. She sends them off with bread, and vegetables, and tupperwares of chili and soup and everything else.

The other two are fast asleep in the car as Eliot drives them back. It's a 45 minute drive, but he takes it slower than normal, appreciating the cool breeze of the night. The quiet and the winding road back home.

Eliot sees what he had been hoping to avoid. Their father, drunk as a skunk on the front porch. Waiting impatiently.

His cheeks are sunken and his eyes are hollow. And Eliot feels guilty deep down. He shouldn't have left. Look what happened. What he did.

It was his grandad, but it was his dad's dad first.

He shouldn't have left him alone.

“It's your fault you know.” Pop spits out at him as he comes up the porch.

“I know. Come on, go and get some sleep, Pop.” Eliot steps forward to try and get him inside. It's late and he's tired and stuffed too full of feelings and he doesn't want to do this right now.

“Don't tell me what to do, boy.” He shakily points the barrel of the shotgun next to him in Eliot's general direction.

Eliot stops moving. Staring down the gun, his heart thumps fast in his ears.

Eliot gulps down his fear because he wouldn't, “Pop, just. Just come on, let's go inside an-”

He can barely hear the click as he arms it.

Eliot choked on his heart leaping through his throat. He can't move.

“Whater you gonna do about it now?” He laughs. He pointed a loaded gun at him and laughed.

And Eliot is frozen. In fear and terror and confusion and everything.

“You should see the look on your face! You really think I'd waste a bullet on you? Ha.” But the gun is still there.

Well, he hadn't been sure if he'd really shoot or not. He had been praying on not, but he just couldn't be sure.

He had always been an angry drunk man. Eliot wasn't sure how far Pop would go if pushed. He wasn't sure how far he would go if pushed.

And the gun is still there.

Eliot can't move. His father is holding a gun up to his head and he can't do a single damn thing about it.

He doesn't know if he'd really pull the trigger. He might.

He might not.

But he might.

“Quit it Pop.” Eliot whispers, terrified to say anything louder. He can feel tears prickle and jump at his eyes. He can't cry now. He really can't.

“You don' tell me what to do.” He sneers.

“Okay, okay.” He placates, hands turned up, eyes down. He shoved his anger at this deep down. He can't be angry right now.

“From now on, it's gonna be different around here.” He says, like a smug sheriff.

“Okay.” It's getting hard to breathe. It's getting hard to move, to keep still, to live.

“You're gonna give me the respect I deserve, I'm the one that puts a roof over your heads, feeds you, clothes ya keeps you off the damn streets.” He brandishes the gun a bit more wildly at that.

“Okay.” It's all he can say with all his focus on the gun swaying in front of him, appeasing the angry drunk man has never been so difficult.

“Okay, okay, is that all you can say? You're so stupid, you can't come up with anything more clever in that dumb brick of yours, Jakey.” He taunts, stumbling around.

“M’ Eliot, not Jake.” He'd take a gun in the face any day over slander of his brother's name.

“Same fuckin’ difference. Pair of idiots the both of ya. Good for nothin’s.” And finally the gun goes down enough for him to take a swig from a bottle.

Then he goes down, the gun clatters to the floor and the bottle thuds.

Thank God.

Eliot clumsily fumbles with the shotgun in the dim light to disarm it without blowing his head off, eventually getting it.

He takes the bottle and throws it as far as he can in the distance.

Staring down at him, he feels his anger dissipate. He looks so small.

He still fucking held him at gunpoint.

His dad just died.

But he still just held him at gunpoint.

He sighs, and does what he always knew he was going to do.

He picks him up and drags him to bed.

He throws him in the cover and slams the door.

Gathering Hannah and Jake is easier by a long shot. Just shaking them awake in the car and gently telling them to get to bed, and off they go back to sleep.

Later on he's collapsed on his bed and covers his mouth tightly so he doesn't scream.

If it had been Jake or Hannah in front of that gun, he wouldn't even have hesitated to get in front of them and diffused the situation as quickly as possible. But since it was himself, he hesitated.

He hesitated.

He could have died. His dad could have just killed him if he'd said the wrong thing. He almost got himself killed. He's very lucky to be alive right now.

He doesn't know how much longer his luck will hold out for.

It can't be forever.

[starshideurfics]

New Fic Alert!!!!

This is probably my most autobiographical fic to date, while still being wildly different from my life!

[the-barefoot-hatter]

Spoilers for Chapter 5! But I can't resist the Angel of the falls, Melody, coming the to recuse <3

Always, go read When You Put a Triangle in the Trunk! It's brilliant- Ford kidnaps a totally normal librarian! Let him go home, you monster! He has a bad hip!

[stars-obsession-pit]

When Danny agreed to ferry some books between Ghostwriter’s library and The Librarian in Gotham, he didn’t expect it to be that big a deal. It’ll be just a quick jaunt back and forth, right?

…He just jinxed it, didn’t he.

Yep.

He was barely out the door of the Moonstone Club when he first noticed his tails, and it didn’t take any super-senses to tell they meant trouble.

Less than five minutes later, his suspicions were proven right when a lunging figure forced him to drop to the pavement. He would have phased through the ground too, had some sort of presumably-magical force not blocked him.

Guess he was doing this the hard way. Ghostwriter was so gonna owe him when he got back.

And also, what the hell was in these books??

[blushsturns]

bad boy! matt and librarian! reader 𝜗𝜚

part three ⭑ where’d you go?

description: matt starts to worry when he doesn’t hear from you after your first date.

w/c: 2784

masterlist ♡ pt.2

all matt could think about was your date last night. how you both talked for hours, your beautiful smile when he’d tell a stupid joke, how your cheeks would turn a bright shade of pink when he’d compliment you and your eyes would pull away from his just for a moment to try and hide it, but he could always tell. he could read you very well. he was really good at reading people and he knew that his charm had an effect on you.

this was completely out of the ordinary for matt. some would say he has commitment issues. he’s only had one serious girlfriend in the past. the rest were all hookups and flings and he didn’t care enough about them if they stayed or left. he’d throw parties or attend them, hook up with whoever gave him the most attention, and then never speak to the girl again. he usually preferred it that way, but there was something about you. something different, refreshing, exciting. he usually could care less to see a girl again, but with you, he couldn’t wait to see you again every single time.

it was almost like an intoxicating drug that he just had to have. he needed his fix. he was hooked on you and he wasn’t sure how to process that information.

he hadn’t known you very long, but that wasn’t an issue. he already has learned so much about you and he wanted to keep learning more. during the date, he knew he didn’t talk much about himself when he should’ve, but he was always known to be a bit mysterious. he knew there was some kind of mending that needed to be fixed within him. he was more rough around the edges and closed off compared to his brothers, who were completely opposite. they didn’t care that he sold and smoked weed, hung around with the wrong crowd, or how he threw parties almost every weekend.

matt actually graduated at the top of his class in high school. he’s intelligent when he wants to actually put his mind to it. otherwise, he can’t be bothered. even though he had never stepped foot into the public library until the day he met you, he has a couple favorite authors that he hasn’t had a chance to tell you yet. he loved learning about you and hearing all of your stories, even if he could sense some of your walls were still up and you were guarding your heart. you were so innocent, so pure. matt was always known as the “bad boy” who didn’t give a fuck about anyone else around him

he didn’t live by the rules, didn’t really have a set plan for his life, probably smoked too much weed, and maybe hung around people who did bad things, but maybe, just maybe he had a soft spot for you. even though it hadn’t been that long, maybe you could help him see the good in life and within himself.

matt had just finished a deal, pocketing the money in his wallet and sliding the wallet is his jeans. he had texted you this afternoon asking if he could stop by at the library to see you today because he had to go out with his brothers tonight and he didn’t want to, he’d rather spend time with you. he already blew them off the last couple weeks and instead hung out with his friends who probably weren’t good for him. he wanted to at least see you today even if it was for just a couple minutes. god, he was turning into a lovesick puppy, wasn’t he?

“don’t be fuckin’ late, like you always are.” chris said sternly as he continued his intense match of fortnite without even looking away from his screen. “seriously, if you blow us off again i will cut off your fuckin’ dick and that’s a promise.”

“jesus, chris.” matt rolled his eyes, annoyance building up inside of him. he loved his brothers, but they infuriated the fuck out of him. nick was in his room doing god knows what. if he knew that he was talking to you and going to the public library, he’d never hear the fucking end of it. “i’ll be back and no i’m not fuckin’ tell you where i’m going.”

chris let a laugh erupt from his throat, his fingers working intensely against the controller, his eyes focusing in on the game. “whatever you say, mysterious matt.”

matt shook his head in disbelief before grabbing his keys and walking out the door and out to his car. it didn’t help that his brothers didn’t drive, so if they wanted to go anywhere, matt was the designated driver. he checked his phone one last time to see if you had texted him back. it had been a whole two hours and he hadn’t heard anything from you.

should he be worried? should he start to panic? he never felt this way before. usually if he doesn’t hear back from a girl, he wouldn’t care and just move on, but he couldn’t do that with you. there was something different about you, something special. he wanted to explore it, even if that meant stepping out of his comfort zone. he decided to just wait until he got to the library, not wanting to blow up your phone and started driving towards the library.

the entire time he was driving, his fingers anxiously tapped against the steering wheel, trying his best to stay focused on the road ahead. luckily the library wasn’t too far from his house, but in this scenario, it felt like it was taking forever to get there.

why did he care so much? it hadn’t been long since he met you and all he could do was think about you. it was like his brain was consumed of you and every part of you that he’s been able to witness so far. he wanted more, he needed more. this was a dangerous feeling and he wasn’t sure how far he was willing to go with it.

he quickly pulled into the library parking lot, noticing it was a bit more busy than he’s seen before. he couldn’t get out of his car fast enough, walking inside of the library and heading straight upstairs where he usually goes to look for you.

matt walked straight to the desk, but you weren’t there. he walked through each aisle, hoping to see you like he did last time with your cart and headphones on your cute little head, but you were no where in sight. now he was really starting to worry. he pulled out his phone to check if you texted him and you hadn’t. he sent you a quick text, asking where you were before stuffing his phone back into his pocket. where the hell did you go?

he didn’t want to ask anyone and have them wonder what the fuck he wanted as if he was a creep who was stalking you or something. he decided to check the children’s area which was downstairs, even though he assumed that could be a longshot. the library was huge, so he was trying not to panic yet.

it was a little silly to be walking into the children’s section at his grown ass age. there were bright colors all over the walls, a room with toys and a bunch of children playing and more bookshelves filled with children’s books. nobody seemed to pay any attention to him which was much to his benefit. just when he was about to turn the corner, he heard a familiar voice, but in more sing-song tone obviously meant for kids.

it was you.

right in front of him was a big room with frosted glass windows, but the door was open. the sign on the wall said “youth programming room”. he tilted his head to get a look inside and there you were. you sat in front of a group of 20 small children with a book in your hand as you read it aloud to them. you had an infectious smile on your face, the children giggling and clapping as you continued to sing and read the classic rhyming book.

“chicka chicka boom boom! will there be enough room? here comes h up the coconut tree!”

all the children giggled as you read and demonstrated what was happening, a wide smile on your face the entire time. god, you looked so fucking adorable and perfect. his body relaxed when he realized you were safe and not in any harm. your hair was curled with a bow clipped in the back, you wore a comfortable white sweater and a plaid skirt with black tights.

matt stood there against the doorway, his body leaning against the frame, his face softening and body continued to relax as he continued to watch you in awe. he never felt the way before, nor has he even bothered to show up at another girl’s work to make sure she was okay and see her for a few minutes.

he probably looked like a creep just standing there, but he didn’t care. the parents were with their children, making them swing their hands and dance as you continued to read along to the book in your hands. this lasted another two minutes and you wrapped it up, thanking everyone for coming and that’s when matt immediately darted away from the door and stood by the aisle of the books.

he waited for the crowd to clear out and made sure the coast was clear before returning back to the doorway. your back was turned and you were bending down to begin cleaning up. at this angle, he got the most perfect view of your ass in your skirt that hugged your curves to absolute perfection. he knew he shouldn’t be staring, especially not when you just finished singing to a bunch of children, but he couldn’t help it. you were too damn perfect to look at that it was impossible to look away.

you heard footsteps coming from behind you and immediately assumed it was your co-worker so you started to speak before even turning around. “just ended the story time now, i have to take my lunch and then head back upstairs to the desk to finish off my shift.”

“can i take you out to lunch?”

you immediately turn around when you realize it wasn’t your co-worker standing behind you, gasping in surprise with your hand placed on your sudden racing heart. your eyes widened, locking your eyes immediately with matt as he stood before you.

his lips curve up into a wicked grin when he realized you weren’t expecting him at all and you were still trying to catch your breath. “matt, what the hell? what are you doing? you scared the shit out of me!” you spoke through your teeth to try and be quiet, not wanting anyone to hear although it was just you two alone in the program room.

“you weren’t answering my texts and i wanted to say hi because i won’t get to see you tonight. i got a thing with my brothers tonight. couldn’t miss an opportunity to see my favorite librarian in action.” he flashed you a playful wink, his lips curving up into a wider grin.

your cheeks instantly turned a bright shade of pink, your gaze pulling away from his to look down at the ground for a moment before back up into his eyes. you hadn’t realized he witnessed you in action doing story time. as a librarian, you are sometimes needed in the kid’s department to do story time because you’re so good with kids even though your main job was to work with the adults upstairs. you agreed to do it because you didn’t mind seeing the little kids singing, laughing, dancing, and having a good time all because of a little story time that you put together.

“i’m sorry.” you said shyly, biting gently onto your bottom lip. “i got really busy today, if you couldn’t tell. it’s not usually like this, but sometimes they need me to help out down here with the kids.”

he nodded his head as he listened to you intently, his eyes staying locked onto yours the entire time even when you had pulled your gaze away from his. you met his eyes once again, your cheeks only growing more warm just by staring at him. sometimes he was so pretty to look at it and with his ocean blue eyes, it was hard to stop staring, but you got flustered way too easily.

“yeah i saw that. those kids adore the shit outta you, huh?” he flashed you a grin, wiggling his eyebrows at you in a playful manner.

you let out a soft giggle and nod your head, placing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “yeah, i love them. i know it’s such a nerdy thing to say, but i love my job even if i have to sing sometimes.”

matt let out a soft chuckle at your words. “i think you sounded bad ass. is there anything you can’t do, pretty librarian?”

the nickname just rolls off his tongue now and it makes you feel warm and fuzzy all over every single time. you felt your cheeks burning at this point and you hadn’t even been standing here with him very long. “you’ll probably find out one of these days the more you spend with me.”

“i don’t think that’s possible.” he said a little more serious now, his face softening as he spoke.

you decided to lighten the mood again, a soft smirk playing on your lips. “so, did you miss me when you didn’t hear back from me or what?”

he immediately let out a soft chuckle, placing his hands in his pockets. he so desperately wanted to pull you close to him and hold you, but he knew this wasn’t the right place and time. he also wanted to take his time with you, which only seemed to surprise him considering that was never something he cared to do in his past. “so maybe i did. you had me worried for a moment there, pretty. i don’t like to be worried.”

you rolled your eyes at him playfully, lightly tapping him in the chest with your finger. “well i’m here now. how can i make it up to you?”

his lips immediately curve up into a slight smirk at your words. “two things.” he put up two of his fingers as he spoke which happened to make your gaze fall to his fingers, noticing how long and pretty his fingers were. “one, let me take you out to lunch.”

you nodded your head slowly at his words, trying to keep your focus on him instead of his hands before you. “okay, that’s doable.”

“and number two..and hear me out when i ask this.”

you raise your eyebrow up at him in a curious manner, a puzzled expression appearing on your face. “okay, why does it sound like i have to brace myself for what you’re about to ask me?”

he took a step closer to you so you were inches apart now, his hand moving up to place a strand of your hair over your ear which sent chills down your spine, your breath feeling like it got caught in your throat. you looked down at his lips before back up into his eyes, taking in a shaky breath. “just relax, pretty. it’s not bad. i promise.” his words were reassuring, soothing, promising.

you nodded your head before allowing your head to lean slightly towards his hand as it rested against the crook of your neck, his fingers lightly tracing your softened skin.

“so i’m having a party at my place tomorrow night. i really want you to come. it’s only fair.” he stopped speaking for a moment to follow your eyes, his fingers continuing to lightly caress your neck. he leaned in closer to you so his lips were now lingering against your ear, his breath hot and heavy against it as he spoke, “i’ve seen your world, but you haven’t seen much of mine. what do you say, pretty girl?”

you take in a shaky breath, the feeling of his lips against your ear, his fingers still grazing across your skin and his body merely touching yours causing your stomach to flutter with butterflies. you didn’t know what you were getting yourself into, but how could you say no when he makes such a good point?

“i’ll be there.”

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a/n:

shoutout to @camzeecorner for giving me the idea of librarian!reader reading to the kiddos. here is the ask they sent me!

thank you guys for all the love on this au! i’ve had so much fun writing this. next part will have some angst and possibly start heating up so get ready for that. :)

love you all so much!

-nessa ღ