Based on the photo of JMo taken by Tina Turnbow for Marie Claire. If you haven't seen it, it basically just stirs all kinds of sexy librarian feels up. Hence this fic was born.
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Tell Me a Tale
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It's on his way home from work, he tells himself as he steps through the doors of the city library, that's why he spends so much time here. It definitely has nothing to do with the bewitching librarian. Absolutely not.
One day he'll stop trying to convince himself of this.
"Oh hi Mr Jones," she says, looking over her shoulder as he approaches the shelf she's pulling books from.
He smiles, scratching the back of his neck as he steps closer. He's always loved the way she calls him that – she'd had to sign him up for a library card upon his first visit and has insisted on calling by his surname since. "Miss Swan," he answers, nodding his head in greeting.
Setting the books she's got down, she wipes her hands on her skirt and returns his smile, "What can I help you with today?"
He spends his days at work Googling titles of interesting sounding books to try and impress her. And then he spends the week reading every word in case she asks him about it. It's worked well so far and they've had many discussions about stories they've read and how they've been affected by them. They've definitely grown close in the past few months, but he still can't seem to work up the courage to ask her out, scared about rejection and the possibility of not being able to see her at all.
Pushing those thoughts aside, he's forced to focus on his next task at hand. Today had been extremely busy at work and he'd not had a chance to find a new title. So, hoping that she doesn't call his bluff, he decides to try a different tact, "I was actually looking for a recommendation."
Her eyebrows raise and he can tell that he's caught her off guard. She adjusts her glasses, averting her gaze and he thinks that maybe she's just as nervous as he is about their weekly meet ups. "And what if I recommend Harlequin novels?"
She's turned away from him before she can see his reaction so he quickly closes his mouth, because that definitely sounded like flirting, and follows her to the next shelf she leads him to. "Well I suppose I would read Harlequin novels."
"Hmm," she says approvingly as though he's just passed a test he hadn't realised he was taking. "Well perhaps I'll save those for another time."
Definitely flirting.
He watches as she bends to pick a book from the bottom shelf, but before she can explain it or hand it to him, there's a noise from behind them and the librarian startles and turns around. Through the shelving they spy a young student waiting by the front counter, a booklist in her hand, a wondrous look on her face at the great capacity of this library.
"Just um… wait here, I'll be right back," she said, straightening her glasses once more before making her way out to the student, her hips swaying gently as she walks.
Killian turns back to the shelf to take a look at the book she'd produced for him, a slow smile spreading across his face when he sees the title. It's not a book he'd have chosen for himself, but there's something about it that seems so oddly Emma.
He's never read 'Peter Pan', instead opting for the movie adaptations if anything, but he's already engrossed after a few pages when he hears the tall oak doors at the front of the library close behind the student. He sets the book down and stands, only to have Emma find him in amongst the shelves a moment later, a curious smile on her lips.
"You didn't forget I was here did you, Miss Swan?"
She shakes her head, her blonde curls bouncing around her face, "I think we both know that I know exactly where to find you."
It's true, he realises all too late – he has made quite the habit of coming here of a Wednesday afternoon. His working week is busy and knowing that he has her to look forward to midway through it helps him get by. And a new book to read, he reminds himself belatedly, always a new book to look forward to.
"I don't mean to… I mean, I'm not…" he stutters out, hoping that she understands what he's trying to say because he's not even sure he knows.
She places a hand on his shoulder and inclines her head, "It's okay. I like that you know where I am too."
It's quiet for a moment. Then another moment after that. And he swears she's drawing nearer. Suddenly it's all a lot of pressure because she has been the object of his fantasies for months but he'd never dreamed that she'd give him a second glance, let alone seduce him in the closing hours of Wednesday afternoon.
She is definitely getting closer.
"Emma," he whispers and it sounds like a warning to his own ears, fear leeching into his tone because she is too perfect for him, too wonderful and bright in his dark world. He'd known it was a bad idea to make this a habit because filling his life up with her would mean filling hers up with him and no one needs a sullen dock worker with a slight drinking problem on their hands.
But surprisingly she seems calm when she answers him in the same tone. "Killian," she says, hand moving from his shoulder to cup his cheek, "Stop lying to yourself."
His mind immediately flashes to the thoughts he has every day about only coming to the library for the promise of new books and, with her permission, finally lets them go, let's the doubts fall from his shoulders. For her. For the slight possibility of her.
"Okay."
She smiles, standing on the tips of her toes to lean into his welcoming kiss.
She's like short rays of sunshine on a cloudy day – warm and dizzying, but leaving him wanting more. His hands find her hips, pulling her flush against him as he tilts his head and kisses her deeply.
It's a snowball effect from there, because he can't enough of her and her fingers on his body are making him wild. It's amazing how being honest with himself has freed him, he thinks as he guides her backwards to the shelving they had been perusing earlier today. She hits it with more force than he had intended, but it doesn't seem to rattle her, instead spurring her into action, her hands racing to the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head.
He pulls away just long enough to ask, "Here? Really?" to which she replies with a bitten lip and an eager nod.
"Here and everywhere."
And he has to chuckle at the fact that she seems to have put as much thought into this as he has.
"As you wish."
He slides his hands along the curve of her ass, so delicately outlined by the black pencil skirt she wears, and lifts her gently until her long legs wrap around his waist and their heated arousal meets between them. He pushes her skirt up her thighs, letting it come to rest around her waist and pulling her panties aside to lay his fingers at her core.
She whimpers as he circles her clit, arching her back and grabbing hold of one of the bars of the shelving behind her so she can rock forward on his fingers.
"Feel okay?" he asks and she nods.
"Need more."
Her breathing is already laboured, hitching as her body prepares her for pleasure. He glances down at his fingers playing across her wet skin, watching as two digits disappear inside of her again and again. She must notice the intensity with which he's watching and reaches down past his hand to the buckle of his belt, "Can't have you uncomfortable."
He hisses when she opens the fly of his jeans, reaching past his briefs to pull him free, pumping him a few times before he hits a particularly sensitive spot in her folds and she just needs him.
"Where's the-"
"Wallet. Pocket," he manages between panting breaths.
Her fingers leave him and he slips forward until the tip of him is just brushing across her sensitive clit and she grips his thigh through the back pocket of his jeans where she has just triumphantly pulled a condom from. His teeth nip at her neck as she tears the foil packet open and slips it over his eager cock. His thumb returns to her clit as he just enters her, rolling the bundle of nerves in circles while he shallow thrusts into her.
Her hand is above her in seconds, clinging to the bar and arching her back once more. Killian sees the opportunity and takes it, biting down on her nipple through her shirt and bra, producing a whimpering cry from her. He rubs at her clit faster, letting his cock slide just a little further inside of her until her moans are laced with expletives and her glasses are adorably skewed on her pretty face.
Her free hand wraps around the back of his neck, pulling herself forward and clinging to him as she slides her body down his length until she has taken him completely inside of her.
"I didn't want to rush," he says by way of explanation.
She grins into his neck, "We can do slow later."
He takes very kindly to that little piece of information, spinning her abruptly and finding a new area of shelves to rock, something awakening inside of him that has her moaning out, "Yes, yes, yes," every few seconds.
His thumb is still pressed between them, and he can feel the nerves tightening under his touch. "Come for me, darling," he urges, his forehead sinking against hers.
She tilts her head up to meet his kiss, her breath hitching one last time before she crashes over the edge, the sounds of books falling to the ground around them adding to the intensity of the moment, with the draw of her body pulling him over the edge a matter of seconds later, his eyes closing in an attempt to hold onto everything in this moment.
His slowed down thrusts pull her lazily from the stars she's seeing before her eyes, a smile spreading across her face.
He kisses the tip of her nose, "You look like you just had sex."
She laughs, dropping her head against his shoulder, "You too."
Her feet fall to the ground as she shakily tries to stabilise herself, pulling her skirt back into place and allowing him a moment to clean himself up, tossing the condom into a nearby bin which she makes a mental note about emptying before she leaves for the evening.
Speaking of…
"What are you doing tonight?" she asks him.
He smirks, "Reading 'Peter Pan', I think."
She secretly approves of this answer, but was aiming for another. He is going to become an addiction, she knows it.
"How about you come over and we can read something together?" she asks, spotting just the book out of the corner of her eye.
He inclines his head, "What did you have in mind?"
She smiles, bending over in front of him to pick up the book in question. He doesn't have to read too far to realise just what she's got in mind.
Grinning, he slips the copy of the Kamasutra into his pocket.
…
Thoughts?
