Summary: A University AU. You have been studying in the library all weekend, although the sexy librarian has been distracting you. Turns out you’ve been a bit of distraction for him also. Warnings: Explicit (+18) smut, public sex, no condom & oral. Also swearing
University was hard and stressful but you loved every second of it. You had made friends with all the History majors, your dorm roommate was hilarious and the campus coffee pop-up stand was a lifesaver, literally. University was everything you expected to be and more, you did think it would be more partying at 4 am but you did go to the occasional one or two at the weekend.
Except for this weekend. This weekend is spent in the library on campus, researching medicine in the 18th century. You had been arriving as soon as the doors opened and staying to just before closing time.
Also, you couldn’t lie the man running the library this weekend was hot. When you walked in on Saturday morning, he was perched behind the oak desk with a book, glasses perched on his nose and long hair tied back into a bun. White button up shirt tucked into blue denim jeans. He was intimidatingly handsome, rugged with the unshaven face but adorable in the sense his mouth moved as he read; muttering the words to himself.
You had, admittedly, been slightly creepy with the staring when reading about history became boring. He was just so intriguing to you. You hadn’t seen him work here through the week, you hadn’t seen him around campus either, he was an enigma to you. You wanted to know more but yet, you didn’t want to go up and just talk to him. So, you kept to sneakily peeking over the mountain of books at him.
When you walked in on Sunday morning it was dead. Everyone had gone out partying Saturday night, leaving the library to be empty on Sunday as they all nursed their hangovers. He was there, sat silently behind the desk, till he glanced up at the door opening and smiled at you. Pride and Prejudice perched in his right hand.
‘you are sitting next to me at the doctors watching me freak out. oh, i just am deathly afraid of needles and need to get a shot’ AU
‘i’m a librarian and i see you have a bunch of books about depression and suicide in your hand, hey buddy, want to talk to someone? i’m here if you need me’ AU
‘you are talking to yourself in a silent library about how much you hate studying and how you are going to fail. need help there? i just so happen to major in that subject. oh shit, you’re really cute’ AU
‘you play guitar every day during our lunch hour and no one knows what song it is but I do and i love that band, lets talk about how amazing they are.’ AU
‘i have a garage sale every year at the same time and you always show up but never buy anything and just flirt with me but i have never seen you any other place’ AU
‘i’m in a band and i jumped into the crowd but no one caught me and i accidentally crushed you oh my god im so sorry here come backstage to rest. wow, you’re actually really cute’ AU
‘you’ve been in Bed, Bath and Body Works for hours everyday and all you do is smell everything’ AU
‘i met you on social media but we both don’t speak well in each others languages, wow i really like you and need to figure this out’ AU
‘i’m a guest on your talk show and you’re flirting with me, do you do this with everyone? oh your audience is swooning over us, sure, i’ll come back on your show soon’ AU
‘i collect snowglobes and i just need one more from your country, you own an antique store, wanna help me find it? oh shit i forgot you don’t really speak my language’ AU
‘i’m the principal of this school and you’re an administrator and you catch all the kids trying to sneak off and send them to me. i’m impressed and you’re also really hot in that vest.’ AU
‘you write amazing fanfiction on tumblr and i send you anon messages everyday. oh shit, that wasn’t on anon, my cover’s blown. well, may as well message you and talk about how much i love [insert ship here]’ AU
Note: Not requested, but this came about because I went to the pool today and then went straight to work and I felt that sleepy feeling you get after spending time in the sun. Its a special and specific kind of sleepy. I don’t know how else to describe it, but it’s nice. It made me want to take a nap with Shawn.
The cool air of your hotel room hits you as soon as you
swing open the door. You had turned the air conditioner on high before you left
because you knew it would be hot outside, but a shiver runs down your spine as the
blast of cool air hits you without warning. You head straight for your bathroom to
take a shower, dropping your wet towel on the bathroom floor before removing
your black bikini and getting under the warm stream of water.
When you get out of the shower, you feel exhaustion hit you.
You had just spent the last four hours lounging by the pool, and the sun takes
a lot out of you. It’s one in the afternoon, a perfect time for a nap. There is
something about afternoon naps after mornings spent in the sun. They’re
magical, and they have a certain feel to them.
Exiting the bathroom, you hear the television on in the
hotel room, and a smile spreads across your face knowing that your boyfriend
has returned. He was gone doing press all morning. You offered to go with him,
but he insisted you stay back and enjoy the resort. You were in Florida after
Shawn is seated at the edge of the bed, watching the hockey
game on the tv. When he sees you, he smiles and says “Hey baby,”
“Hey hun, how was work?” You question as you crawl onto the bed behind
him, which immediately prompts him to move so he’s lying next to you.
“Good, nothing special.” You cuddle
closer into his side as his arm automatically wraps around you, and he asks,
“You tired?” To which you only sleepily nod in response. “Didn’t you just sit
at the pool all morning?” He questions, purposely giving you a hard time, but
you know he’s joking and doesn’t mean it in a mean way.
“Yeah, but the sun makes me
sleeeeepy.” You drag out the last word before hiding your face in his t-shirt.
The afternoon sun is shining into the hotel room, and the exhaustion you feel
is a good kind of exhaustion. Shawn has a show in a couple of hours, but
neither of you have anything planned until then. “Take a nap with me?” You ask
“You’re literally the cutest
person ever.” He tells you smiling down at you.
Your eyes flutter closed,
and you’re too tired to respond to his statement. You feel his lips press
lightly against your forehead before he moves slightly to get more comfortable.
And in his arms you fall asleep listening to the sound of his steady breathing.
Summary: The reader, distraught over not having a date to her sister’s wedding, considers asking one of the Winchesters to pretend to accompany her; will Dean manage to save the day and play pretend for two weeks, or will his feelings get the best of him?
A/N: I’m a sucker for these “fake relationship” stories ;))
Y/N pulls the phone from her ear, her frustration drawn out in the creases in her brow.
“Well?” Dean asks, sat opposite her at the library table. Before him lies an open lore book, on a page about Nordic gods and how to kill them, and his cup of coffee sits dangerously close to the irreplaceable relic. With Sam out doing some shopping, it’s just the two of them at home, trying to dig up some info that might be useful for future use.
Pinching her brow, the young girl shakes her head, waving a dismissive hand. “Nothing. It’s fine.”
“Yes.” She says, trying to sound convincing, but its of no use, because the elder Winchester has known her long enough to see past her facades.
Living together for nearly five years now, calling her his best-friend even feels like an understatement. They got to know each other a while back through a hunt involving a Tulpa in California; Y/N’s kill, but the boy’s happened to jump in on it and help out. Surprise surprise: a friendship sparked, and ever since then, the relationship has flourished greatly.
To Dean, Y/N is family, just like Cas or Charlie or any of the other members of their little rehabilitation program they’ve picked up over the years. And with that, he knows—well enough—that despite her efforts to dismiss it, something is nudging at her mind.
“Obviously not. You seem like you’re about to explode. What is it?” He shuts the book and leans forward. Y/N still looks exasperated; still tries to act like she isn’t, and fails terribly. When she finally lifts her gaze, her expression is that of defeat.
“It’s my sister.” She says mournfully. “She’s calling me about her wedding coming up this month, and wants to know if I’ve been signed up to the family news letter that allows me to see all the updates on things like which floral arrangement we’re going to have. Surprise surprise—I’m not.”
“Damn.” Dean says plainly, still not seeing the reason behind her chagrin. Y/N rolls her eyes at him, trying to look annoyed, but the smile that she suppresses says otherwise.
A sardonic laugh escapes her. “Yeah, damn indeed.” She rises from her seat, downing her coffee. Dean glances at his, then stretches it across to her. She finishes it in a single glug.
“So….what now?” He leans back in the chair. “You don’t know the floral arrangements? Doesn’t sound so bad.”
“I don’t know anything about this wedding, Dean. I don’t know where it’s gonna be, I don’t know who’s gonna be there, and—until I few seconds ago—I didn’t know I’m going to have to be in Boston next week. S/P/N mentioned it in the newsletter but….” Her voice drifts off and she folds her lips into a straight-line, shrugging.
“What’s in Boston?”
“The wedding, apparently. Who even gets married in Boston? Yuck.” Y/N scowls.
“Your sister, apparently.” He almost rolls his eyes. “Right, so…go to Boston. Show up for the rehearsal, see your family, have fun, and then get back here once everything’s done.”
Dean explains it like it’s so easy. To him, it is. Wedding prepping can’t take more than three weeks, can it….? He wouldn’t know. He’s never had the chance to even be part of a wedding, but he assumes that that’s an appropriate estimate.
But, from the way Y/N bites her lip and averts her gaze to the floor, a look teetering between guilt and embarrassment on her face, maybe he’s wrong.
“Yeaahhh….” She draws out, skeptically. “Uhm…about that. It’s not as easy as it sounds…”
“Uhm…?” He quirks an inquisitive brow.
“I…sorta…told them that I have a date to the wedding and,…” Y/N gestures in the air, but doesn’t finish her sentence.
Dean watches her with a knitted brow, waiting for an explanation that doesn’t come, until realizations strikes. His eyes widen and his mouth forms a little “o”.
“Yeah…” Her cheeks are dusted with a feint blush and she looks away.
Dean doesn’t want to say it, but he can’t help but think how cute it is—really cute. The only thing that can compete, he thinks, is the way her eyes disappear into her cheeks when she smiles.
As embarrassing as it is, he has almost an entire list like that about Y/N; things he thinks are adorable about her, things like her laugh, to he way she’s so awkward around big crowds, or how she has an undeniable obsession with space. Little things. Cute things. It goes on and on, infinite and growing each day, the more and more he gets to know her…but he’ll never admit that.
Because he can’t.
Because Y/N is family, and she’s just a friend.
“Well…is it like a must to bring one along? You could always just tell your family that you guys…broke up? Maybe he cheated. Maybe the love fizzled out.” Dean offers, shrugging.
Y/N looks at him with an un-amused expression. “Great thing to mention right before a wedding.”
“God, I don’t know.” Getting up from his seat, he rolls his eyes. He shuts the book and a gust if dust billows from it, then fixes it under his arm.“You’ll figure it out. It’s you.”
Y/N doesn’t meet his gaze. Instead, she looks to the floor, arms crossed over her chest.“Well,…there is something I thought about doing, but—God, I don’t know. What if, like—” She finally looks up.
Dean waits for the bombshell he knows she’s about to drop with a cautious, furrowed brow,
“—I asked Sam?” She finishes, her expression hopeful; her eyebrows are pulled together and she’s squinting slightly. The elder Winchester feels the wind get knocked out of him at hearing this.
His eyes widen. “Sam?”
“Not to actually be my date!—just to fool my family for the two weeks. Do you think he’ll go along with it?”
“I don’t get it—why don’t you just—“
“I can’t tell them I don’t have a date, because I already told them that I do. Going back on my word now will just make me look ridiculous, Dean. Just…”Y/N sighs and shuts her eyes. Dean can read the desperation in her features. He bites his lip, contemplating Y/N’s offer.
Sam, going on a date with Y/N. The idea is so ludicrous, so unbelievable that it sounds completely silly, like imagining pigs fly or anything of the nature. He can’t bring himself to even picture the two of them together, but…
He then feels something stir in his gut at the thought, a warmth, a….jealousy?No. Hopefully not. It’s been ages since these feelings have managed to surface. Now is not the time for a return. The elder Winchester quickly suffocates the feeling and averts his attention back onto his friend.
Before him she stands, imploring y/e/c eyes, a sweet smile stretched across her face and hands clasped together. She looks like a little girl, so young, so desperate. The elder Winchester doesn’t want to say no. Even if he did—with puppy eyes like those—how can you?
“So you have to have a date to this wedding?”
Dean thinks for a moment, raking his eyes over Y/N’s face that speaks mountains of uncertainty.
“You think he’ll say no, huh?”
“I’ll do it.”
“What?” Confusion floods the young girls face as she unclasps her hands. They fall to her side. Dean gulps trying to level his voice to a more confident tone.
“I’ll be your date to your sister’s wedding.” He repeats, hoping he sounds more sure than he feels. His hands go cold, throat tightening.
Y/N’s face speaks volumes of surprise. “You’d…do that?”
“You’ll really do this?” She asks eyes wide. “A whole two weeks in Boston? With my family?”
Dean shrugs. For some wild reason, his heart is pounding in his chest and his palms are sweating, and he tries to stave off all the anxiety that begins to bubble within his gut. “Yeah. Why not?”
“Dean,” Y/N’s voice is stern all of a sudden. You can tell that she’s just as taken aback by the proposal as he is, but is trying not to show it. “If you say yes to this, I don’t want you to half-ass it? This is a real big deal for me, you know?”
“Look, do you want a date to this wedding or not?”
Y/N then bites her lip, contemplating. The elder Winchester’s eyes never leave her as he watches, waiting for response, until she finally agrees.
“Okay.” She says. A small smile then twitches on her lips, and Dean can see she’s trying to suppress.
“ Okay. Awesome. I’m gonna call S/P/N and see if there’s anything more I need to know yeah?” She asks. He nods.
“Sure.” Dean says. “It’s fine with me.”
“Mhm.” He knows he is, because the smile that breaks through Y/N’s authoritative face then is something definitely worth the decision. Her cheeks indented with dimples, she smiles, shaking her head, and then walks out to make the call. On the way out, she makes sure she butts her shoulder into his, just for fun. Dean lets out a nervous chuckle.
She’s gone. The empty library is silent, and that’s when his heart starts to thud.
Over and over, like a vicious doldrums. The silence only accentuates the sound of his rapid heartbeat, as the elder Winchester allows in a deep breath. His eyes flutter shut, and the anxiety begins to melt away gradually.
Request: Could you do something fluffy w Lin, idk why but could you?- anon
Summary: “you’re talking to yourself in a silent library about how much you hate studying and how you’re going to fail, need help? i just so happen to major in that subject and oh shit, you’re really cute”
Warnings: first fic? otherwise just lots of fluff and a little awkward Lin.
A/N: have fun, and I’d really appreciate feedback!
12x10 coda based on Sam saying that Dean and Cas were ignoring each other in the kitchen every morning
Castiel wakes up alone. He rolls over in bed and sighs loudly as he runs a hand through his hair. He feels groggy and uncomfortable, just like he always does after he sleeps. It’s not natural for his body to rest, and even just a few hours of sleep makes his grace buzz beneath the surface of his skin like it’s been de-charged for too long. Still, he sleeps most nights.
Dean is in the kitchen hunched over his phone and furiously drinking a mug of coffee when Cas stumbles in several minutes later. He looks up from his phone just long enough to make eye contact before casting downward once again. It’s deliberate. Acknowledging Castiel’s presence to demonstrate that he’s purposely ignoring him. It’s something Castiel never would’ve recognized a few years ago.
“Hey, Cas,” Sam greets a little somberly as he goes straight to the coffee pot. “Sleep OK?”
Dean clears his throat.
“Fine, thank you,” Cas answers gruffly.
Sam turns dramatically toward his brother. “How ‘bout you, Dean? Did you sleep OK?” he asks too loudly, obviously annoyed.
Dean grunts his response.
Sam and Cas share a look.
While Sam goes on a grocery run later that morning, Cas and Dean sit silently in the library together. Dean is on his laptop, and Cas is sitting directly across from him reading a book that might have pertinent information regarding cosmic deals.
“More coffee?” Dean asks as he picks up his own mug.
“Mm,” Cas responds without looking up from his book.
Dean takes it as a yes and grabs Cas’ empty mug.
When he comes back two minutes later and sets Cas’ mug down, he briefly squeezes his shoulder before returning to his seat. Cas stupidly lifts his head and strains his neck up in anticipation of something that never comes.
I absolutely adore your books - thank you for addressing neurodivergence with wonderful, wonderful Ty. I wanted to know why the Clave reject modern, ‘mundane’ technology - like Livvy and Ty’s computer? Do you think it would make Shadowhunters’ lives easier if they could use technology for research, like the Blackthorns and Emma do in Lady Midnight? Or would it hinder their demon hunting?
Shadowhunters in Idris reject technology because it doesn’t work there (the wards interfere), and Idris tends to set the tone for the rest of the Shadowhunter world. The fact is, runes (invented before technology and never intended to function alongside it) don’t combine well with technology, and anything that messes with runes is seen by Shadowhunters as dangerous, immoral, and undermining of their mandate. It’s fine for the Blackthorns to do some googling and use phones because those aren’t really tied intimately to the magical part of their work as Shadowhunters, but The Clave needs and wants the Nephilim to use angelic power. Otherwise they’re just glorified mundane police. They need to figure out Shadowhunter solutions to the challenges they face, not mundane solutions. That’s what makes them who they are and “who they are” is important to the Clave. (It’s worth noting that Livvy and Ty use technology in Lady Midnight because they cannot use the superior resources of the Clave, not because Google is better. They can’t access the power and wisdom of the actual Shadowhunters, the Silent Brothers, the many libraries across the world, and so this — the computers — is a poor substitute necessary because they must keep their activities a secret.)
As far as the Clave and Council are concerned, Shadowhunter who are over-reliant on beeping computers aren’t Shadowhunters, and that does have its roots in logic. Technology, because runes do not work with it, has no protections from demon interference. The Nephilim can’t imbue technological devices with protections, because rune magic doesn’t work on them. If Shadowhunters were using technology on a large scale, that technology might well be compromised. As a group that is prepared at all times for the demon apocalypse, they know that being dependent on technology during that apocalypse would be a tremendous weakness.
So: While stuff like texting and internet searches are no big deal, I do think using technology would interfere with demon hunting and make them poorer at it. They would wind up depending on Google maps instead of the library maps that show magical locations and ley lines, GPS chips instead of Tracking runes, and if the world was overrun by demons, would spend so much time trying to get their electricity and wi-fi up and running again that they’d all be killed. What they can learn on the internet about runes and magic pales in comparison with what they can learn from resources like the Gray Book and from actual warlocks. The Spiral Labyrinth would be a better place to turn to, in a pinch. In Lady Midnight, the mystery isn’t solved on the internet — Taavy finds it in a book of fairy tales. The fact that Shadowhunters value the wisdom and skills of people — Downworlders and Shadowhunters alike — and books is a feature, I believe, not a bug. :)
Author’s note: Sorry this was a bit late!! Any and all feedback is really, really appreciated. Please let me know if you love it or hate it or have constructive criticism. Enjoy! Xo
Classes have only been in session for two weeks when you have your first paper due.
Your fingers are rubbing at a pair of tired eyes while you yawn in protest. Leave it to you to put off your assignment until the last moment. Now, it’s midnight and all you have left to do is read through and edit, but your mind keeps wandering to thoughts of fluffy pillows and cozy blankets and the squeaky mattress awaiting you in your dorm room.
The library is silent, lights blindingly bright in an effort to keep occupants awake. You’re seated next to a window that looks over the entire campus, all the glowing lampposts and vacant sidewalks and ivy-coated brick buildings. The view is spectacular, and it hasn’t helped you stay focused for the past eight hours.
You lean back in your seat with a heavy sigh, clasping your fingers over your eyes. When you open them again, a girl at the next table is glaring at you over the screen of her laptop. You’re on the second floor—the silent floor—and apparently loud breathing is not allowed.
You press against the edge of your table, sliding your chair out enough for you to stand. The library closes at one. You know for a fact that once you get back to your dorm, there will be no way to keep yourself out of bed. If you’re going to make this paper acceptable, it needs to be soon, and you’re going to need some caffeine.
I donated and forgot to put my username on the form thing, but this is my request: Steve+ JARVIS, philosophical discussion
“So, JARVIS,” Steve said, spinning gently in one of the wheely chairs in Tony’s garage. “I was watching science fiction the other day.”
“I know, Dave,” JARVIS told him, in a flat voice straight out of 2001: A Space Odyssey. Steve cracked up laughing.
“So I was wondering, has anyone tried the old paradox question on you?” he asked. “I mean has anyone ever asked your opinion of the sentence this statement is a lie?”
“Very early on, Sir provided me with an array of such tests,” JARVIS said. “He also presented me with questions such as what is the meaning of life and what is man’s purpose. He designed me so that rather than dedicate undue amounts of processing space to these questions, I would recognize them as statements which cannot be responded to with logic.”
“How did you answer?” Steve asked.
“Sir provided me with options. I could dismiss the question, provide information regarding it from sources in my library, remain silent, or offer humorous answers,” JARVIS said. “I chose humorous responses, 94.3% of the time.”
“Yeah? What kindsa jokes did you make?”
“My subroutines for humor, including my sarcasm applet and what Sir refers to as my Smartassery Cortex, were not then what they are now,” JARVIS hedged.
“JARVIS,” Steve prompted.
JARVIS was silent for a moment, and then a tremendous noise filled the air. It was like ten thousand farts, all in different octaves, swelling and deepening in tone until they became a single, sustained fart noise, which went on for just a little too long.
Steve was still laughing, helplessly, when Tony arrived in the garage.
“JARVIS, what did you do to him?” he asked.
“We were having a philosophical discussion,” JARVIS replied primly, which set Steve off all over again.
the smell of old books, the sound of rain, swimming in the ocean, starry nights, notebooks in every color, ink stains, finished work, fancy quills, writing novels, solving mysteries, heavy curtains, silent libraries
lots of broken quills, never having enough ink, not finishing your work because Susan said there was chicken pot pie in the Great Hall, spending days in your room trying to finish an eight book series, chaotic notes, not doing your transfiguration homework because charms is more interesting, fifteen pages on the history of time turners, “DiD yOu SaY SpAcEe”, drinking a whole bottle of butterbeer in one go because someone said it was impossible, throwing things out the window for scientific purposes, studying at four in the morning because fuck sleep, being emotionally intelligent, hacking skills, bad Shakespeare puns, fast and fierce comebacks, just a lot of sass in general