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whatthefishh · 1 year

Text

Oxford Comma

Rydal Keener x f!Reader

Summary: You got into Harvard, based on your own merit. Rydal was a legacy kid and pissed you off every chance he could get. AKA the 90s University AU I spent two full days working on.

Words: 7k+

Warnings: NSFW, oral sex (m and f receiving), p in v, cream pie, Rydal is a cunt lmfao, a lot of run on sentences and overly describing situations because you just had to be there

Series Masterlist

———-

It all starts during homecoming.

Well, sort of.

That’s when you met him.

\\\

“I didn’t even want to go to school here, you know. Fucking bullshit,” you heard someone say.

You bristled at the thought that someone would want to turn down the posh ivy university that you somehow managed to get a scholarship to. You had busted your ass for your grades and extracurriculars, balancing being on the school paper and being top of your class just for the chance to apply to Harvard. And here this prep kid was, complaining that this wasn’t his top choice. The privilege was pouring out of him like a faucet.

“Didn’t your dad bribe you though? He bought you a new car. Like, the exact car you’ve been whining about,” the taller boy said.

“It wasn’t a bribe–”

“And! Didn’t you get a custom licence plate? Something that had to do with Greek mythology or some shit–”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” the snooty boy sniffed. “He chose the plate. Wanted everyone to know who it actually belonged to.”

“Well– yeah. Still, we’re legacies. May as well use it to our advantage.”

You were listening so closely that when someone behind you in the crowd of students bumped you too hard, your drink spilled on the taller boy’s shoes. Not a lot, but enough to embarrass you in front of the clearly well-off duo. They both turned around to look at you at the same time, the shared weight of their accusatory gaze shrinking you even further, if that was even possible.

Chester, the taller boy whose name you had come to learn after hearing the snooty boy refer to him as such, threw a fit about the now dried cranberry stain on his crisp white Sperry’s, which he had apparently just purchased.

The other boy, the one who didn’t want to go to school here, was watching you amusedly the whole time, his lids low as he slowly took in your appearance while you were stuttering out an apology to Chester. You didn’t notice how he was watching you until he interrupted you and said that it was fine. That he’d buy his friend another pair, to which you did a double take, catching his winning smile. That ten kilowatt smile probably got him out of a lot of situations, and he was aiming it at you now. For what, you didn’t know. He was genuinely very handsome. In a classic, old money kind of way. Sweaters around his shoulders, Ray-Ban wearing, summer in the Hampton's kind of way. To be honest, it just made you dislike him more. The uncomfortable feeling spreading over your body in goosebumps under his stare, most likely manifesting into a cringe-worthy blush across your cheeks.

You needed to get away. Hopefully, this was a one-off and you’d never have to see or speak to them ever again. After an uncomfortable ten or so seconds of silence, you turned on your heel and walked into the crowd, not bothering to catch the other boy’s name.

///

The distinct smell of his expensive cologne hit your nose before you saw him again.

Looking up from the list detailing the books you needed for your semester, you stopped short as someone cut in front of you in the aisle of the campus bookstore. The back of his head rang familiar but you couldn’t place him, until he grabbed something off the shelf – the last copy of The Communist Manifesto in his hands – and turned to give you a smug smirk when your eyes connected. You couldn’t help but flick your eyes back and forth between his eyes and the title in his hand, the same book you needed for your Perspectives of Politics course. And he’d just taken the last copy available.

“I…I was going to buy that,” your voice came out weaker than intended.

“Were you?” he was still smiling at you, infuriatingly.

“Yeah, right before you jumped in front of me. It’s the last one in stock.”

“Hmm. Didn’t see you reaching for it. Guess you’ll just have to order it online then.”

You grit your teeth together, trying to go for polite but by the way his eyes lit up at your jaw clicking, you were having a hard time keeping it together.

“Come on, they’re like double the price online, I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt daddy’s wallet. Let me have this one!”

You grimaced as soon as the words left your mouth. They were ugly and not the way you wanted to carry yourself at a prestigious school such as Harvard, especially not to someone whose parent was a faculty member.

He arches a brow and takes a deep breath in before tilting his head back and staring down his nose at you. He wasn’t much taller than you, not really, but he held himself with such distinction that you couldn’t help but feel three feet shorter.

“Listen, I don’t know what backwater town you came from, but we don’t use those words around here unless you’re moaning about it.”

God, you hated him. You wanted the floor to swallow you up so you could disappear from this awkward fucking moment.

Narrowing your eyes at him, your tongue once again got you in trouble, “Motherfucker,” you whispered incredulously.

“No, my name is Rydal. But you were close.”

He shook his head, the smug look back on his face as he walked away from you, leaving you to gape at the empty aisle trying to rewind time.

\\\

You only realize he’s in your class when midterms come around, seeing him show up to write an exam for a course he’s never attended in person.

You avoid him, casting your eyes downward until you pass by him, too ashamed of your last conversation all those weeks ago to even look him in the eye.

He finishes the exam quicker than someone should be able to for someone who hasn’t attended a single lecture. It’s almost questionable. Until you see several other students get up around the same time as him, leaving a good two thirds of the lecture hall still full. You’re still around the halfway point of the exam, and trying your best to remember what it was you read about capitalism and Marx, and but the moment from the bookstore comes to mind, your thoughts unintentionally drifting to Rydal again. His deep set eyes watching you from atop his aristocratic nose, lips parting curiously, temptingly–

You’re writing an exam, for fuck’s sake. Shaking your head and blinking rapidly to get rid of the thoughts (read: thots) you were having, you shifted your attention back to the papers in front of you.

You double checked everything before handing it in, well before the last third of students finished. A small part of you bitterly wondered how he had managed to finish so quickly, but you again didn’t let yourself brood for too long.

///

You didn’t see him but you saw Chester in the library once, kicking the printer in an attempt to make it work after jamming for the umpteenth time.

You made eye contact after he had just done so, your body freezing at the exact moment your eyes met inadvertently and making your library trip last half as long as you initially intended. If you were being honest with yourself, which honestly you were, way too often and mostly to your detriment, you high-tailed it out of there out of fear of running into Rydal. If Chester was around, you could safely bet that he was probably nearby, the two frenemies often spending their free time together.

Planning on finishing your paper in your dorm, you made your way back, secretly hoping your roommate wasn’t there. You had no problems with her, she was actually really nice to you and often wordlessly gave you snacks if she saw you skipping meals. The thing was…

Your roommate started smoking weed and thought she was being slick about it. She wasn’t.

The smell of it followed her in the dorm, leaving its teeth marks in the sweaters she left around, in the bathroom where she would spend an hour in the shower washing it out of her hair, and in her bed sheets when she’d come back from god knows where smoking up.

There was one night when she came back with some gummies for you to share, since she noticed you being on edge and wanted to help, bless her. You kindly refused, since you were in the middle of crying about your grades, but appreciated the thought nonetheless.

Your midterm came back with a lower grade than you expected. Your project partner didn’t finish their part of the assignment, forcing you to do most of it yourself. You were going to get a lower grade than you wanted, than you needed to keep your scholarship. You had to get at least a 90% on the final to keep your average where it needed to be. How the fuck were you supposed to accomplish that? What with the stress of managing your finances and trying to blend in to this stupid crowd, most of the kids around you not having to even think about any of the shit that was on your mind.

You couldn’t fail, you weren’t allowed the same slip ups half of the students around you were allowed. Not only could you barely afford your meals on campus, but you were skipping dinner some days, desperate to make it to the end. It’s not like you could ask anyone at home for help, that was a write-off. You were here off your own merit and volition. You and you alone. You thought about all your peers who had help getting here, jealousy rising like bile in your throat. You needed this more than them. And yet you felt hopeless when you thought back to the pre-requisite course you were failing.

Okay, fine. Not failing, just falling below the mark you needed.

Which you tried explaining to your roommate. Her casual suggestion made you stop crying immediately, turning to her in confusion.

“Why don’t you just buy an answer key?”

What. The. Fuck.

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah, like the answer key to the final. I’m sure someone has it.”

“Like… you mean like someone’s selling the answers to the exams we’ve been writing? Like… a student? Isn’t that against school rules?”

She laughed and looked at you like you’d grown two heads.

“Of course it’s against school rules, that’s why you have to be careful who you ask. Honestly, how have you been getting by this whole time? Don’t tell me you’ve actually been doing every single reading?” she asked you as if the mere thought of it was ridiculous.

You just stared at her in stunned silence, a little bashfully when you had no reason to be.

“Oh honey, go ask Rydal, I’m sure he has it.”

Now you were going to scream.

“W-what?” you were struggling to wrap your head around it. The same Rydal whose father was a professor at the school, the same Rydal who left the exam early for a class he never fucking showed up for – that scumbag was cheating and still had the audacity to steal the last copy of the book you needed right out of your stingy hands.

The sound of your roommate talking faded into noise as you were thinking about all the times you felt less than, and all the times you stayed up late in the library studying, trying to prove yourself to your professors and peers when all this time half the student body was probably buying their way through school and doing the bare minimum.

You realize she’s been droning on about how cute he was today, and how kindly he offered to roll her weed for her when she bought the dime off him and it occurred to you that she was still talking about Rydal. Her weed dealer, Rydal.

A thought occurred to you.

“Where’s his dorm?” you adopted a fake tone of cheerful curiosity.

She adapted to your change in diction better than you could’ve hoped for really, giving you the information you were looking for and feeling altruistic about herself in the process.

He opened his door with an air of boredom, masking his surprise at finding you there – your eyes probably red from crying, hands wringing in front of you – and leaning against it with his arms crossed, looking you up and down before asking, “can I help you?” with a twist of his lips.

Taking a deep breath and trying not to literally twiddle your thumbs, you start explaining how you need at least a 90 on the exam to keep your GPA, trying to skirt around the topic of maintaining your scholarship. For whatever reason, you felt the need to hide your financial status in front of him, and you were already here groveling for his help. You didn’t need to hand over your dignity on a silver platter for him.

Halfway through your monologue, he opens the door more fully for you, signaling for you to enter with a slight tilt of his head. Looking around his dorm, you take in the frames and posters lining his walls; the stack of books next to his extremely comfortable looking bed; his mostly cleared desk; an acoustic guitar half hidden behind it; and a hefty looking filing cabinet with a lock. It was much loftier than yours looked, even with the lived in state. His worn but expensive denim jacket hung off the chair at his desk, and you briefly wondered what the hell his deal was. Why was this rich kid with daddy issues acting out in a clear violation of several campus rules and regulations, pulling out a spliff from behind his ear to rest between his lips and light it up lazily in front of you?

“D’you wanna hit?” he asks, blowing the smoke out as he watches you gingerly look around for somewhere to sit. You shake your head ‘no’, tugging at the hem of your Harvard t-shirt.

“Take a seat, I have to find the copy,” he says gesturing to his unmade bed.

So you do, you sit in the same place his body had been prior to you knocking on his door and you can tell by the traces of cologne you pick up as soon as you sit down.

You try not to stare as he’s bent over the heavy duty cabinet, rifling through the folders - criminally organised, this one – until he finds the one he’s looking for and turns around to catch you staring at his bum, your eyes widening as they meet his a second too late.

"Y'know, you look good like that,” he says, leaning his hip against the cabinet and looking at you down his nose again, his lids laying low over his brown eyes.

"Like what?" you ask, despite you already having a feeling where he was going with this.

Rydal smiles, like you played into his hand exactly like he wanted you to.

"Sitting on my bed."

"Just give me the photocopies, Rydal."

"Alright, alright,” you stood up to grab them from his outstretched hand, more than ready to leave his cave of horrors.

Except he doesn't let go when you grab them.

"How much?"

He still hasn’t let go; you’re at an impasse with how to proceed. Looking up at him with a slight panicked look, he concedes, finally releasing the paper from his grip.

"For you? Nothing, for now.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Means you owe me one,” he said with an unethical twist of his pink lips.

"I don't know how I feel about that."

"I have a feeling you'll like the way it feels,” he was ushering you out now, his hand on the small of your back raising goosebumps in its wake. Once in the hallway again, you turned around poised to dish it back but he didn’t give you the chance. Rydal winked at you before swinging his door shut in your face, leaving you half confused and half flustered at his blatant flirting and somewhat generosity.

///

The next time you see Rydal is at a frat party that your roommate somehow convinced you to go to. She had insisted you needed a night out, a normal university experience she had called it, ever since she found out about your long study hours. Apparently, she had thought you were seeing someone and that’s why you were out late, not because you’d been holed up in the library this whole time. So she took it upon herself to throw some of her clothes at you, more expensive than anything you owned, albeit shorter and tighter.

“This isn’t my size,” you tried to tell her from inside the bathroom you shared.

“Yes, it is, stop being dumb and let me see,” she was being nice, you reminded yourself.

Groaning, you opened the door to reveal the kitschy micro pleated skirt she had lent you with the thigh high socks, to go with it. You felt ridiculous, but by the way her eyes lit up at the sight of you, you were made to believe that it was a good look, despite the irony of the academia look gone wrong, all things considered.

Before she could drag you out any further, you managed to swipe your oversized denim jacket to throw on top for the chill November air, letting her drone on about how she wants to find you a guy tonight.

The party was being held in a dated building on campus, hosting one of the many fraternities that Harvard has to offer, and of course, one of the many yearly gatherings where students come together to make terrible, horrible decisions together. The structure itself is historically beautiful from the outside, if one were to ignore the trashed students huddled together in swaying groups as the speakers from within the house blared out Hypnotize. There were shouts coming from inside the house, a constant stream of students going to and fro, and someone was most definitely throwing up in the hedge.

Linking her arm through yours so she wouldn’t lose you to the throngs of people, your roommate pulled you through, ending up at the drinks table.

“Pick your poison,” she urged you, before turning and saying hello to a bunch of people you didn’t know, leaving you alone for a minute before he descended upon you.

“Step on me, would ya?” his soft voice was closer to your ear than you expected anyone to be.

Your head whipped around and even his eyes widened at seeing your face, not having known it was you from behind.

“Are you lost or something?” you scoffed at him.

“Oh my god, Rydal! So good to see you,” your roommate swooped in at just the right time, stepping between you two to hug him, a hug that he returned though he kept his eyes on you the whole time. “You two know each other, right?”

He cleared his throat before smiling and nodding at her, answering all her socialite questions before seeing someone he knew across the room and taking his leave. You knew this outfit was a bad idea.

“Babe, I’m gonna go dance with Sebastian over there, is that okay? He keeps smiling at me and– don’t look at me like that, I’ll be back soon, I promise, okay?”

You felt bad, not wanting to keep her from having fun so you assured her you’d be fine, busying yourself with your drink and finding something to snack on. Which led you to search for the food table, it was bound to be here somewhere. Near the drinks is where they usually set it up, right? It should be here –

He was already staring when your gaze landed on him, looking at you through his lashes from across the room, his index finger resting on his tongue as he licked off whatever food was leftover on it. You felt your cheeks heat as he didn’t look away, the pink of his mouth wrapping around his finger now and making a show out of cleaning it while he looked you up and down.

Oh, fuck him, you needed some space. The back door was nowhere to be seen so you pivoted and took the stairs two steps at a time in your rush to find the bathroom. After brushing past some older, more inebriated students draped over each other in the hallway, you found an unoccupied bedroom, rather nondescript and clean to belong to this house, at least. Stripping yourself of your jean jacket, you tossed it somewhere near the door. Taking a few breaths to steady your racing heart, you tried to shake the tantalizing image of him and his perfect mouth out of your head, the way his lips wrapped around his finger and leaving behind a trail of spit–

The door swung open and you were about to apologize, presumably to the resident of whoever’s room you were occupying but the words died on your lips when you noticed it was him, closing the door behind him.

You don’t have the energy to deal with whatever brand of crazy has him acting up tonight, his eyes drinking you in now that he has you cornered like a predator. Taking the moment to study the boy before you, to really study him, you notice he’s not really that tall and not really that imposing. The watch on his wrist looks old and worn, not like his flashy counterparts you thought he was similar to. His polo shirt, though obviously expensive judging by the material and the way it draped over his shoulders, was minimalistic in design. No logo, if any, was immediately visible, and you realized you wouldn’t have known about his ridiculous opinion of the institution if you weren’t eavesdropping that first day, and honestly? He’s probably someone you could have befriended upon first glance (or fallen for, but that’s neither here nor there).

You’re eyeing him with blatant distrust. He’s an asshole at times but his lips part as if he were about to speak and then thought better of it, cocking his head while searching for the right words and you’re waiting with baited breath, crossing your arms across your abdomen and inadvertently pushing your breasts up just enough, because why the fuck did he follow you up here?

He has the audacity to look a bit ashamed actually before deciding to press his fingers to his lips and not speak.

“You’re not going to say anything?” you manage.

He shakes his head and you can see the smile he's trying to hide behind his hand, “well I was going to, but I didn’t want to come off like a dick.”

You narrow your eyes and sigh, “what? Just say it.”

“I wanted to cash in that favour, what with you looking like… well, like that.” His hand finally leaves his mouth to vaguely wave in the directions of your legs.

///

So, you meant to put up more of a fight.

Really.

You didn’t mean to give in to his stupid advances so easily, so wantonly, and you don’t even remember who moved first but you remember it being a damn good kiss. Rydal basically devoured your mouth, tongues fighting for dominance soon after your lips met with one hand cupping the back of your neck and the other pulling your body closer by your hip. You pushed his jacket off him while his hands reached under the hem of your top, fingers pressing into your skin. You finally had the opportunity to rake your fingers through his dark locks, causing him to moan into your mouth and bite your bottom lip in retaliation and you swore you could feel the vibrations in your fucking tonsils, your hips rocking into his and you could feel him–

Time seemed to blur, and suddenly you found yourself on your knees, his hands hurriedly unbuckling his belt while you looked up at him from below, his cheeks dusted pink. Massaging the head of his cock through his stupid corduroy pants, he whined under his breath, pushing your hand away to pull himself out of his briefs.

He’s so fucking thick. After unceremoniously pulling out his cock, he didn’t want to force you to do anything, his arms hanging awkwardly by his sides while you just blinked stupidly at it, watching the tip as it leaked out a drop of precum.

Rydal was watching you watch his cock, before you finally gripped the base and leaned forward to kitten lick the tip, and his hesitation flew out the window. His hand buried itself in your hair, not pushing but holding so gently, it was almost tender and it occurred to you that you wanted to wreck him.

Opening your mouth to let more of him in, you breathe in deeply through your nose until you feel him graze the back of your throat, hearing him stutter a breath when you do. Moving your mouth over him until the hilt, you repeated your movement, fingers tightly gripping his base and ignoring the way his thumb rubbed your cheek on every pass. You chanced a look up at him and saw his wild eyes watching you, groaning when your eyes met. His hips unintentionally thrust forward, hitting the back of your throat and causing you to swallow around the tip, both of you moaning at the same time.

An ache is building in your jaw but you were determined to make him lose his shit, he drove you crazy and despite you being on your knees for him, you felt in control of the moment, taking pleasure from it. There was a throbbing between your thighs that you tried your hardest to ignore for the time being.

He was whining now, and you continued to bob your head over his cock, obsessed with driving him further to the edge. Rydal made the prettiest noises, even his exhales were music to your ears and you were glad that you were completely sober enough to remember this, to remember how his head dropped back when you swirled your tongue around his fat tip, the sensitive spot underneath the head and you think he might come. You can't help but wonder if he'll taste any different having fed from a silver spoon all his life

Hes whining a lot now, please– so good j-just like that, God yes – you’re sure hes about to blow his load and you’re preparing yourself to take it as he starts bucking into your mouth but before he can the door swings open and none other than fucking Chester walks in and the moment’s diffused, dissolved, deflated, you’re on your feet faster than you realize and you grab your jacket from the floor as Chester guffaws at the scene. Your feet take you down the stairs and out of the house in a daze, you don’t hear Rydal calling your name behind you in your haste to leave and you see your roommate still with Sebastian, leaving her in his good hands as you make your way back to your dorm.

Halfway through the Quadrangle you realize you weren’t wearing your own jacket, Rydal’s cologne wafting from it in the humid pre-rain atmosphere. Great, now you had a corporeal reminder of what just transpired. Out of everybody at that party to walk in on the two of you, it had to be his best friend, the one who he was probably going to dish all the dirty details to anyway.

“Ughhhh!” you groaned once you reached your empty dorm room.

The entire walk back was filled with images of Rydal, the way his hair felt between your hands, the way his thumb was softly caressing your cheek, the way he felt heavy in your mouth, the way his eyes looked at you like he couldn’t believe his reality. What a waste of your time, you thought bitterly. Neither of you even got the chance to finish what you started.

Neatly folding the borrowed clothes on your roommates bed, you forced yourself to sleep, only able to nod off after several failed attempts to relieve the buildup between your thighs.

///

The next two weeks went by uneventfully. Never mind you leaving your dorm for literally anything other than necessities. Classes ended a week before exams, the library was full at all hours, so you resigned yourself to studying in your bed and at your desk. Your roommate spent half her time at her desk and the other half at her new boyfriend’s dorm, Sebastian. That fateful night turned out in her favour, ironically.

She had actually asked you what happened and if you were okay, not having found you after your pathetic runaway stunt.

“Uhh, I had a really bad acid trip. Ended up here, no memory of how.”

She nodded at you solemnly, her hand coming to rest on your shoulder comfortingly as if you’d just told her someone in your family had died.

Rydal’s jacket rests on the back of your chair, the smell of it lingering, both comforting and disconcerting at the same time. You’re bad at lying to yourself so you’ve come to terms with the fact that you enjoyed what happened between you two at the party and felt real regret that you couldn’t finish what you started, going home empty handed. Like a kid at the carnival with no prize, it was stolen from you at the last second and you had to leave before letting them see how badly you wanted it.

And you did, you wanted him so badly. You almost hate yourself for acknowledging it but when you closed your eyes he was all you could see, his face moments before coming down your throat. Studying in a perpetual state of horniness wasn’t doing you any favours either. You had taken to going for early morning runs to get rid of the itch under your skin, having given up on trying to relieve it yourself.

The answer key worked, flawlessly of course. You still studied, you weren’t completely undignified in your cheating. It’s not like you were behind in the course, so you did your due diligence and it turned out in your favour. You hung around after finishing, double checking your work and then handing it in with the first half of the class and leaving the examination room with a pep in your step. Once again your thoughts strayed to Rydal, and how you should thank him for his help but then memories of your thanks came to mind and you decided he already got his dues.

Still, you had his jacket. You should probably take it back, all things considered. You turned in your seat to check the tag, curious as to how much it cost him. No doubt that it cost more than half your closet – Balmain.

Okay, upon first glance it was just a basic denim jacket, but now that you knew it was designer, you noticed the detailing, the strong hardware and clean top stitching that held it together. A quick google search told you it cost him nearly $3,000 and you’re rendered speechless that he hasn’t come knocking down your door and calling you a thief.

Your leg starts bouncing under your desk, his cologne somehow more fragrant while the words on your laptop screen stop making sense, jumbling together as your mind screams at you to return the jacket at once.

///

Twenty minutes later you’re knocking on his door.

You speed walked here, his jacket in hand. Yes, it was cold outside, but you braved the wind and refused to put the denim on, based entirely on principle and fear that you’d be billed in case anything happened to it while you wore it. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you tried to listen to the shuffling behind his door. What if he wasn’t home? What if he was and didn’t want to see you? What if Chester was here? What if he had a girl over?!

Before you could drop his jacket and leave, the door opened to a shirtless Rydal, sweatpants hung low on his hips and he held a towel to his hair, drying it while looking at you with a clear question in his eyes.

“Um, hi. I just came here to return this, since, well since I mistook it for mine. They basically look the same except yours cost you like, a lot more than mine did so it's okay if you don’t have it, I kind of ran away. Anyway, I’m gonna go–”

“You still owe me a favour, y’know.”

You pause in your turn, looking at him exasperatedly. He doesn’t even have the shame this time, there’s no pause in his words, no hand to cover his smirk, no, his mouth is twisted up crookedly and making his dimple jut out at you infuriatingly. Insultingly. You’re not staring at the water droplet making its way down his chest but you’re also not not staring. He’s gorgeous.

“That’s not true, I think I remember–”

“Doesn’t count. I didn’t finish.”

Your eyes flash at his brazen response. Rydal licks his lips in response, staring openly at your mouth now.

“If you wring my jacket any further, you’ll owe me two times–”

He didn’t get to finish his stupid threat with your mouth covering his, your body colliding with his almost violently and pushing him into his room in the process. He was quick to push you against the door once he had half the mind to close it, his body smothering yours and his hands ripping the jacket from your grip to toss it haphazardly behind him. It was somehow better this time, maybe due to him already being half undressed but you were enjoying the way his tongue was lapping at your bottom lip while your hands roamed his torso, running down his shoulders and lightly scratching him at the same time. His body shuddered and slumped against you as his forehead came to rest against yours, lips parting for air and sharing the same breath pointlessly.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you pant, his hands pushing your shirt up inch by inch as he explores your skin.

“And what exactly is this, baby? Because it feels like more than a favour right now,” he said the last part while grinding his hips into yours causing you both to groan at the well-needed friction.

You glare at him, despite his face being mere centimetres away from yours and an irritating grin playing with his mouth, “You’re ridiculous.”

Flattening your palms against his bare chest, you push him back until the back of his knees hit and buckle against his bed, falling on it before your legs come up on each side of his hips, straddling him as your hands tangle in his hair again.

He’s volatile and sharp and unpredictable in ways that make you nervous and excited and you want to keep him you realize. Rydal’s hands rest on your hips, massaging the skin he can reach without pushing you for more but the desire is clear on his face, looking up at you with no mask. He presses your lower back so your hot core rubs his hardening cock through his sweats and you gasp and arch your back and press in a little closer, and his eyes are tracing your facial expressions. His hand comes up to cup your cheek again and you’re reminded of the last time he held your face like that, his thumb rubbing the same way as before and angling your face better for him to kiss you, stopping just before your lips connect.

You feel a little vulnerable until he says, “Yeah, I know.”

And then he’s kissing you and he’s not stopping and you’re grinding your hips down again, addicted to coaxing small groans and whines from him.

He takes a frightening amount of pleasure from seeing you come around his fingers, his lips wrapped around your clit and leaving behind a trail of wetness, just like you imagined all those days ago. His three digits curled and pressed on your sweet spot, your fingers tightening in his hair as he hummed into your mound, not letting up.

When he rests the fat tip of his cock against your entrance, looking at you one final time before pushing in, you can’t bring yourself to plead with him so you kiss him instead, hoping your lips conveyed what you didn’t want to voice. He gets it, and enters you in one rushed thrust. Your nails dig into his meaty shoulders, eyes closing against the intrusion.

You thought sex with Rydal would be competitive, as every exchange between the two of you usually is. You wanted to turn him inside out and devour the crumbs. It should’ve been aggressive, he should’ve fueled your violent tendencies, it should’ve been all bite and not soft brushes of his hand against your face, not him kissing your face as you gasp around a particularly deep thrust, not him religiously watching your mouth as you whimper and your cunt fluttering around his cock.

He wouldn’t speed up. You already came twice, once on his fingers and once on his thick length as he stayed still inside you, holding off his own release until he reached some-inflicted goal to make you go cross eyed and cockdumb for him. He didn’t let you put your mouth on him before, claiming that you could ‘repay him for last time’ at another date, cheekily insinuating there would be a next time, without a doubt.

You bite your lip to hold back from begging him to fuck you faster, harder, anything but this slow torture he was inflicting on your slick folds. There was no catch, he was gliding through you easily and he wouldn’t shut the fuck up about how wet you were. Pulling your lip free from your teeth, his thumb dipped into your mouth and caught your spit on it only to drag it across your cheek messily. You let out a high pitch whine at that, his cock hitting you deeply.

You turn your face to the side, scrunching your eyes closed as you feel your core building up again despite his agonizing pace. Rydal grabs your chin and turns you to face him again, holding your jaw in place.

“No, you look at me, wanna watch you come again,” he huffs into your face, lifting your leg to fold you in half.

“I–” you start to choke, needing him to understand.

“What, baby? You owe me, remember?” he thrusts a bit harder at that, hard enough to make you snap and pull a guttural moan from you.

It happens before you’re ready; your spine feels exposed as your back arches into him, eyes unfocused and brain short-circuiting, and you gush around him. He’s still thrusting, albeit sloppy and irregular now, but he’s also talking a lot and you can’t focus on his words because your ears are ringing from how hard you just came.

“...fuck, baby, so pretty, love watching you come, fuckkkk, I’m gonna– ahhhh!” his hips buck wildly until you feel hot spurts of his come inside you and dribble out of your puffy pussy. His whole body flexes over yours as he all but empties his balls and slumps over you, your hands mindlessly running through his hair and petting his sweaty back. He had just showered before you showed up. Oh well.

The urge to keep touching him stays even past the time it takes for you to regain feeling in your legs, and Rydal has been nuzzling your neck for the time being. You don’t know how long you two stay like that, just basking in each other’s calm presence for the first time since knowing him. You feel like all the stress from the whole semester, let alone the past two weeks, had left your body, seeping out of you and into his sheets.

You feel him smile against your skin and without thinking, you tug his hair to pull his face up to yours, wanting to see it. It’s not his regular smug smirk that he gives you, it's something else entirely.

This smile is a bit gummy, not as dazzling as the one he turned on you on the first day you met, but sweet and genuine. His nose wrinkled a bit with it and you had to physically refrain yourself from kissing him silly.

Your bodies are sticky and clammy, no space to be found between you two until he pulls out of you, hissing as he does so. Taking a moment to slyly appreciate the mess between your thighs, he swiped a finger through it before you moaned in resistance, swatting his hand away. Rydal sniffed out a laugh, murmuring an apology before getting you something to clean up with. You were worried he’d be cold as soon as it was over, the tenderness he showered you with minutes ago was still present though and he seemed to share the need to keep touching. Useless and unnecessary touches, lingering hands and longing gazes hung around as he gave you something clean to wear, holding you close once you were decent.

“Um–” you began.

“Can we talk about it tomorrow or something, for fuck’s sake, shouldn’t you be like super zen now?”

You choked.

He was right though, he had made you come, like, really hard. Plus, you did feel more relaxed so you let yourself laugh at his sassy remark, adjusting to his humour now that you saw how soft he really was. You tried to fake glare at him but couldn’t hold it since he was giving you the nose crinkling smile again, your own lips twitching at the whole situation.

Burrowing yourself further into his chest, you remembered what you originally came here for.

“By the way… Can I keep your jacket since you lost mine?”

He burst out laughing at that. You find yourself loving the sound of it.

tagging people who I think want to read this and if you don't kindly ignore lmao: @melodygatesauthor @360iris @xbellaxcarolinax @annautumnsoul @ninebluehearts @bit-dodgy-innit @moonknightly @luc-k-y @eyelessfaces @kittyofalltrades @romanarose @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @fandxmslxt69 @missdictatorme @loonymagizoologist

#rydal keener fanfiction #rydal keener #rydal keener smut #rydal keener x you #rydal keener x reader #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac smut #the two faces of january #university au #idk how to tag this #mona writes???#the two faces of january fanfiction

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chrollohearttags · 1 year

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𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫: 𝐡𝐱𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏/𝟑)

extra incentive • c. lucifer

synopsis: your study buddy has always been the laid back type, never really showing interest in anything other than books…that is until the two of you decide to relieve some stress before an upcoming exam.

“You know what they say about the quiet ones. Is it true?” “You’re more than welcome to come find out.”

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content warning: modern/college au, black fem reader, fingering, hair pulling, corruption (ish) kink unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), riding, squirting, choking, nerd!Chrollo, talk of sex/inexperience

word count: 3.8K

this is the first installment to a three part commission from @annie-franny. Thank you so much for your support and entrusting me with this piece! HunterxHunter is my all time favorite show and I’m happy to be writing for some of my favorite characters. Hope you enjoy, love! 💕

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faint raindrops rang outside the windowpane of the fourth floor dormitory..co-ed and co-opted by bright eyed, eager attendees of Yorknew State College. A learning facility of the highest caliber; regarded in the ranks of Cambridge and Oxford in terms of intelligence. Among those in the top bracket of brilliant minds were none other than Chrollo Lucifer. A prodigal genius who came from very humble beginnings and managed to secure a full ride scholarship to the school due to his exceptional educational achievements. Including two award winning literary dissertations on inequality and disproportionate educational opportunities in lower income neighborhoods. A life he knew all too well. Doing so while only being a senior in a vocational school. A man who was as handsome as he was mysterious, leaving many to wonder how he ended up at such a prestigious place. His knowledge only ascended from there and now, he sat as a shoe-in for valedictorian and alongside him was the only person who could probably be considered his equal and quite honestly, one of his only friends.

(Y/N) (L/N), a bright eyed beauty with a kind soul and kindred spirit. Born with an innate gift for reading and all things literature related, you excelled above your peers in no time, surpassing even the most intelligent in every subject. You would spend your lunchtime in the library, grasping every novel, book or composition pertaining to the studies of history; more so specifically your own that the school system refused to teach. Such a curious mind so it came as a surprise to no one when doing college applications, you were among the first to receive an acceptance letter from Yorknew State College nonetheless. Somehow, someway..you and Lucifer ended up intertwining and crossing paths in the campus bookstore. Where a bond formed and you’ve been close ever since, bouncing off ideas, sharing your love of reading and always studying together..hence why now, he was seated in the middle of your floor, cross legged and glued to a textbook as he tapped the back of his pen to the edge of the small table in front of him.

“Damn, Chro. You’re gonna drive me up a wall with that. You’ve been doing it for the past ten minutes.” An obviously irate (y/n) blurting out from the comfort of your bed, knees cradled to your chest with your laptop secured on top of them. You weren’t one to be on edge ever but in comparison to this man, he’d make even the most serene person look mad. Never even getting angry once in all the time you had known him, he truly had the patience of a saint. Oftentimes leaving you to wonder would anything make him tick..

“Oh, I’m sorry, (y/n). Didn’t even realize it. I’ll stop.”

but today, you were both a bit nervous, due in part to a huge assignment coming up in your most important course. One that would determine many things going forward for both of you. More so in terms of personal achievements but important nonetheless. In a frustrated huff, you’d close your computer and slump over, releasing a whiny sigh. “Ugh, I can’t wait for this stupid test to be over. I can’t take it anymore. I feel like I’ve read at least ten different books in the past two days. My head is about to explode.” As dramatic as it sounded, Chrollo most certainly mirrored your sentiments, even if he wasn’t as expressive of it. An exam with over two hundred questions pertaining various works throughout time on random subjects and you’d have to quote excerpts, pick out lines from precise chapters and remember not only the details but page numbers as well. It was so much. “Patience, my sweet (y/n). We’ll knock this exam out of the park and it’ll be done before you know it.”

but luckily you had one another to bounce ideas off of and keep each other accountable. However, it wasn’t lost on you that it was Saturday evening and you were spending it holed up in a room, studying. Normally, it was something that never really crossed your mind. Truthfully, a lot of your peers lacked focus and drive. Not too worried about their failures or fuck ups because they had a silver spoon awaiting them if they couldn’t feed themselves. It infuriated Chrollo and thus, he withdrew even more from his classmates. Isolated and feeling like a loner, he clung to you like a moth to a flame shockingly. So much so, he had eyes for no one else. Even when girls all around campus practically threw themselves at him constantly and had paid them no mind. Dating, relationships, hookups…it all seemed like such a hassle. Trivial things that served him no purpose. He much rather be nose deep in a book, expanding his knowledge than doing anything else. Still, he’d be lying if he said his mind didn’t wander from time to time…

about that girl with these wired rim, round glasses…concealing those dark, deep set eyes. Black coils setting pretty atop your head, skin like honey of the richest variety…needless to say, Chrollo was rather smitten and it wasn’t an honor that he wielded loosely. It took a lot to catch the eyes of the prodigal genius. So when you posed a rather peculiar question, he was a bit nervous to answer.

“Hey, Chro?”

“Yes?”

turning his attention towards you with his signature flat smile..those handsome boyish looks that always caused a flutter or two in your heart. Jet black tufts fluttering on either side of his porcelain smooth face, tied by a headband to keep strays tucked back. Tonight, sporting a hoodie with the school insignia along with a pair of gym shorts covering his lanky frame. It was easy to see why he had everyone’s attention.

“Why don’t we ever go to any parties? Are we like the only ones on campus reading like an old couple on a Saturday night?” However, it wasn’t something that phased him in the slightest and rather than being offended, Chrollo would just laugh and flip to the next page of his very intriguing novel.

“You’re free to go if you’d like, no one’s stopping you from attending any of them.” Stating so matter of factly without so much as even glancing in your direction. To most, things like that came off as condescending but you knew that he just didn’t show much emotion about anything. If you asked him a question, he’d simply answer it with no motive or malice behind it. It was something that initially frustrated you but that you had now grown to love. As with many things about this enigma of a man. Slouching off of the bed, (y/n) crawled a few feet over to him, slinging an arm around the back of his neck in a flustered huff. “I knowww, but they wouldn’t even be fun without you.” “I couldn’t understand why. I’m not much for gatherings so I’d be nothing more than a wallflower..if anything, I’d be rather boring." That's when you’d probe him with another question, still hanging onto his slender frame..your head resting on his back. With your hands coiling his chest, you could feel his heart racing and obviously, nothing ever got him excited but it was something so different about you. He wasn’t much for affection or physical touch but somehow, he didn’t mind when you held him. You guys were incredibly close and comfortable so it came as no surprise that you’d ask him such a thing with no shame. “…Chro..are you a virgin?”

causing the dark haired man to choke up in laughter. You two rarely ever kept secrets from one another but then again, most information relayed between you guys was pertaining to academics and knowledge. None of this trivial nonsense. However, something must’ve sparked this sudden curiosity about his intimate life. “That’s a bit invasive, don’t you think?” “Just answer the question please.” obvious that you were going to persist on this, he’d release a deep breath and shut his book, turning to properly face you as he gave you his response. “If you must know…no, I am not a virgin.” He was, however, completely celibate until the proper person came along and changed it. Even so, it shocked you and he’d cackle, wondering why your mouth was agape.

“What? Are you surprised?” And as horrible as it sounded to admit, you were a bit taken aback. “A little bit! Just doesn’t seem like it’s something you’d be into. No offense.” You figured him to be completely clueless on the topic of sex but alas, he had been with two people in his young lifetime. Some woman he lost his virginity to and a girl he hooked up with in a one off exchange. Neither time was some profound experience that kept him coming back for more or even drew him closer to the girls. It was just something that happened and it wasn’t something that he had ever pondered on. However, spending the last year or so growing closer to you had his mind wandering. Believe it or not, he was rather smitten with you. The only one to really make him take a second look nowadays. Watching you switch around in those frilly dresses and tight little skirts, looking all cute and bubbly. He’d oftentimes find himself blushing as he watched you part your curls, moisturizing them after wash day. Even offering to help..just because he enjoyed your presence. Carrying your stuff to class and always lingering around, waiting on you to get out as if you were still in high school. How you hadn’t seen it yet was beyond him. Hence why he didn’t do random hookups..you were the sole object of his carnal desires when they arose. Like this current moment.

“None taken. But I have to ask, why the sudden inquisition?..something on your mind?” Questioning so casually with that soft smug smirk on his face. He had to know where this was coming from. Roping a hand around his shoulder blade and collar bone, (y/n) teased his black wefts between your fingertips and giggled. There were a lot of things running through your mind at this point. Things that you weren’t certain you should say out loud…out of fear of rejection or sounding too forward. But since you could trust one another so well…there was no point in hiding it.

“You could say that..I guess what I’m trying to say is..I could use a distraction for a while.” Admitting as you teased your fingertips across his chest. And it didn’t take long for him to pick up the hint you had so blatantly thrown down. Flicking his tongue across his lips, Chrollo ogled back at you for a moment, turning to tip your chin up. It was obvious that there was rising tension between you two that could only be solved one way. That festering desire wasn’t going to disappear unless one of you acted on it.

“So what you’re saying is..” talking so smoothly that in one fell swoop, Chrollo was able to spin and capture you in his grasp, landing both of you on the carpet, his body atop yours and your faces only mere inches apart. “You want me to fuck you? Is that it?” Having never heard him use such brash language. Either way, it was so attractive and sexy. There was a certain glare in his eyes, as if he too had been waiting on this moment. Snaking a hand up your outer thigh, he’d crawl slowly between your parted legs. He wanted you and desperately, all you had to do was give him the say so and he’d dispel any and all preconceived notions you’d had about him. “I mean…I’m simply hoping to test a theory. You do know what they say about the quiet ones. Is it true?” “You’re more than welcome to come find out.”

with that, it was all the declaration you needed. The two of you began engaging in a heated makeout session. Cupping your hands to his face, shoving your tongues into each other’s mouths…trying to peel back layers of one another’s clothing. Swirling them around one another in a flustered haze. Moaning and whimpering whilst things became much more intense. It didn’t take long for either of you to render the other nude or even find your hands roaming all over your entangled bodies…his hands on your hips, running along the seams of your clothing. Sharp gasps elicited by subtle neck sucking; the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin…even whimpering and tossing your head back when he’d glide down to your nipples, faintly licking them just to make you shudder. He’d then work his way between your thighs, glaring up at you with those usually cold, dark eyes; so full of life and lust as he hungrily parted your thighs. His primal instincts took over in an instant. As were your own. “..look at that. So sexy..” in reference to that slick covered slit and swollen pearl protruding through those plump lips. A sight like he had never witnessed before; it was beautiful. “You won’t be mad if I get a taste, will you?” Shaking your head with a slight whimper, anticipating his next move. Mere seconds later, you’d find him greedily feasting on your soaked sex. Flicking his tongue so delicately throughout the sensitive area; teasing the clit, sucking on those folds and leaving soft kisses on that pretty pussy of yours. “Haah!—ahh, Chro! Fuck!..” crying out in a fit of pleasure, sandwiching his head between your hands. Curling your fingers through his soft hair, gently tugging at them but trust, he needed no assistance. “You taste so sweet, my love.” Not with the way he was sloppily spitting and lapping on your cunt. He was so skilled and intricate with the way he did it, you were sure you’d be seeing stars. “Mmmm! Ahh..” making all of those pitiful babbling noises that were only further fueling his desire to devour you. Fucking you tirelessly with his tongue. Feasting until your legs began to shake violently and those sweet nectar-like fluids could no longer be contained and you’d find yourself coming on his tongue..squirting from his impeccable oral. You’d cover your face, in half embarrassment and shock as it riddled your body. “Don’t be shy now, let me see that pretty face..” It wasn’t until he came up for air, his hands softly groping at your breasts did it really dawn on the two of you what was transpiring. But it was a tad bit too late to back out now. Instead, he’d shift to his side midway, propping your smaller frame up on his thigh as to balance you against it. That docile demeanor seemed to dissipate before your eyes and a side you’d never think to see began to awaken..one you’d like very much.

“You see, my sweet (y/n)…what I lack isn’t knowledge, not by a long shot. But experience..experience with the right person.” declaring so sweetly as he stroked the side of your face to help you calm down from your climatic high, only to induce another. Working those pale, slender digits between your jaws and whirled them around. “See..I know things that would make your body tick. Things that would send you into shock and make you cry my name out to the heavens. I would make love to you in ways that would cause your soul to erupt into flames. Every little movement, I’d make certain you fell deeper for me..so addicted that you won’t even dream of another man touching you..alas, I never found that person.” was a mere taste of what I’m capable of.”

all the while he was speaking to you, filling your ear and head with perverse thoughts, Chrollo’s opposite hand snaked around your throat and his eyes averted downward. By now, you were a drooling mess…letting that trail lube your already dripping folds as he shoved those same digits inside of you..working them around. “Hnghh!” “Shhh..just relax.” But he wouldn’t be the only one at work. Soon, he’d instruct you to grasp at his exposed member and coil your fingers around his shaft, slowly working it over. Not for nothing, but he wasn’t lacking in size either..girthy and thick but long also. That pink tip emitting pearlescent white precum. You were so needy and impatient, wanting to feel him right away but it wasn’t plausible. He doubted that you couldn’t even take it…

“That is until now. Until I met you, (y/n). I’ve dreamed of this moment and having you all to myself..now I’ve gotten it.” grunting into your ear, sucking on his teeth as you continued to massage him between your fingertips. Neither of you could maintain this charade of teasing much longer so with one final kiss to your temple, Chrollo hoisted you up ever so slightly, barely breaking the contact of your skin and gave one last command:

“Go ahead, put it in yourself.”

something about that primal energy he was tapping into really turned you on. Making you yelp while you worked yourself down to his aching tip. Pulsating as it split you open..causing you both to audibly gasp once it met the silky warmth of your insides. He had to all but restrain himself from hammering up into you but it had been quite some time since he felt a sensation like this one. “Mmmm…God, you’re so tight. But don’t worry..I won’t go too fast. We’ll take our time until you can fit all of me. We won’t rush it.”

talking you through those movements his palms placed to your hips and your back to his chest. It was while you were becoming one and getting acclimated with those strokes did he begin to buck upward very gently; meeting you halfway while giving you steamy, sloppy tongue kisses. You couldn’t stop moaning into his open mouth and he couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He wanted to squeeze on those beautiful breasts, pinch your nipples between his fingertips and especially, massage that swollen clit. Although, he’d save that last one for the right moment. You’d more than likely come entirely too quickly. So he’d settle for giving you affirmations to keep you going. Bouncing up and down on his dick, trying to eventually make it disappear inside of that pretty pink flesh. But as it stood, you could only take it about halfway to the hilt. Sounds of squelching and colliding flesh filled your tiny room and right there on that floor, your bodies clashed in heated ecstasy and bliss. Eventually, he was able to push it in a bit more before you found an established rhythm. “Keep going. Yes..you’re doing so good. Riding me like this…and you’re creaming all over it. Are you going to milk me too, sweetheart?” Cooing whilst sucking on his teeth, tossing his head back in pure pleasure. That pussy was something special and he wanted to savor it for as long as possible.

“Yes, ‘wanna make you come for me…fuck!” Whimpering so pathetically and sweetly, it made his cock twitch..that throbbing, continuing to fill your flesh. By now, the two of you had established a synchronized rhythm and pace. (Y/N) riding him, rolling your hips and subtly shaking your ass; standing atop your tiptoes even, when he fucked you. “Ooh, just like that. Look at how nicely you’re taking me now. Opening up so good..” now gripping the thick of your plump ass, now starting to thrust upward. He was enjoying your little tricks and show but he couldn’t hold back any longer. Having not been releasing pent up energy or realizing that he needed to, Chrollo was coming undone by the second, rutting his hips into you with that firm grip. “You don’t have to hold back, sweetheart. Come..make a mess of me. Let it all out..” with that affirmation, you’d release every drop of your sweet, squirting cum..as well as any stress or agitation in your body. Those much needed endorphins rushing through your systems. Spent and out of breath, you’d collapse against one another right there on the floor..panting and laughing. You couldn’t remember the last time either of you had felt this good.

“That was…something.”

“Yes it was..”

most certainly agreeing on that front. Something that was beneficial for the both of you. Now he felt as if they were able to conquer anything after that. And so did you!..clutching your arm, he’d gently caress it and kiss your forehead. “Well I suppose that’s one way to clear your mind.” Making the joke as he turned to face you, staring at you in a way he’d never stared at anyone in his entire life. Because in all honesty, he had never shared a connection like that with anyone. He’d never been one for a relationship or even casually hooking up..his sole focus was academics but after this? He felt as if he could make an exception for his favorite person perhaps. Clasping your fingers together, Chrollo made another declaration, one you couldn’t refuse. “I don't know about you, but I’m ready for this test now. My head is ten times more clear than it was.” “I’m glad to hear it. Tell you what…pass it and I have much more where that came from.” Just then, your features illuminated with a sparkle he had never quite seen in those beautiful eyes of yours..

“Mmm..I don’t think that’ll be much of a problem.”

giving you all the extra incentive you need.

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i-am-a-l0st-gh0st · 7 months

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All the stars aligned- Alhaitham X Gn!Reader

"And what name should I put?"

"Alhaitham"

T/w- Bookshop au

Summary- What happens when a pretty man like him walks into a bookshop?

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Working in a bookshop was lots of fun, when you weren’t serving customers or packing shelves you were able to take a moment to enjoy your book. The best part though was seeing the people who walked in. You were able to see their tastes in books, there styles of clothing and how at peace they looked. For most people book are an escape of sorts, they replace the life you have with a new one every time you pick up a book.

Today was one of your best days in the months you’d worked here so far. You hardly had any people walk in which meant you had time to sit and relax. You picked up a book you had been meaning to read for so long. Finally I have time to read. Well that was until he walked in.

He looked perfect. Perfect was probably an understatement, but no other words could describe him. A tight turtleneck, a lovely tricorn black coat, and his pants were an oxford grey. He had a black pair of headphones perfectly placed over the top of his smoky grey hair which had green tips. The male walked into the bookstore without so much as a glance in your direction, which you were glad he didn’t, he would have certainly noticed the colour of your face. You could feel your face growing hotter with each second he was in there. God what was he doing to you.

“I’d like this one, please.” His facial expression showed barely any at all.

“S-sure.” Archons why were you stuttering? “Have you read any of her other books?”

He only nodded, still keeping that same expression. Was he always this cold towards people? You nodded, not sure how to respond even though you asked the question. You weren’t always like this with people who walked in. It just seemed to be this man in particular.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome to enjoy the book.” You flashed him a warm smile, which he did not return.

A few week later the same guy returned to the book but this time looked at you when you walked in. Had you forgotten about him? Of course not! This time he came up to the counter with a book by another one of your favourite authors.

“Guess we have similar tastes.” You added a little chuckle for good measure. You were just trying to be polite. He was sort of on the verge of being rude, but also not.

“I guess so.”

This continued for months, he came in, bought a book you made small talk, then he left. That was until you decided to break the loop and ask for his number.

“Y-you want my number?” Yes! You’d broken his stone face.

"Yes I do." You might have seemed confident but in reality you were a mess.

"Oh alright then." He quickly looks around like he's looking for something. "You got any paper?"

"Ah yes here."

He hands you the bit of paper and you can feel yourself sweating with anxiety.

Oh my god oh my god. He gave me his number!

"And what name should I put."

He smiled for the first time since you'd seen him, god it made him look even more beautiful. "Alhaitham."

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #gn reader #fluff #genshin angst #genshin fluff #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham oneshots #bookshop au #~Gh0st Rambles~

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neil-gaiman · 1 year

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Hey Neil,

I was a college student in the 90s, in London. One of my favourite memories is going to the Borders closest Oxford Circus Station. They had a cafe and a bookstore, and it was pretty common for people to take books from the bookstore, without payment, and just settle in to read.

Or maybe that was just me (yikes!)

Moving on, as I said, I was a POOR COLLEGE STUDENT, so I couldn't afford the Sandman comics, but I was hooked on them from practically the first word I read. I read through the entire Sandman series, in bits and pieces, across MONTHS of time, all the while sitting at that Oxford Circus Borders, occasionally sipping an iced drink if it was 'treat day'.

Never paid for them. Sorry?

Since then, I've moved on from being a poor college student, and yet I never bought the Sandman series. I have no idea why. I can easily afford them. I bought the entire Lucifer series a long time ago. Loved those, BTW. I think I prefer the Lucifer series to Sandman, TBH. Please don't encourage making Lucifer into a TV show though, it's definitely going to get messed up.

Anyhow, I just wanted to share a fond memory I have of reading your Sandman works. I hope it made you smile, as your Sandman continues to make me smile.

I've been avidly watching the new show, and I'm delighted to report that it makes me feel like I'm back at that Borders again. Thank you for your work.

It was a good Borders. I met Thea Gilmore there, and signed many books for them.

They already made Lucifer into a TV series, but they changed a lot, so it's okay that you didn't notice.

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cameronspecial · 6 months

Text

Before The Last Petal Falls (Part 2)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: It's always a funny thing to be invited to your ex-boyfriend's engagement party. It's an even funnier thing when it seems all his family members have something to say to you.

Masterlist

“How about Lace Place?” Lacey asks, flashing her hands in an ark to imitate the arch of the sign she is imagining. Y/N gives her a funny look at the words, “Babe, that sounds like you sell drugs. If you name your restaurant that, you’ll be attracting the wrong type of clientele. Although, if a stoner accidentally walks in, maybe you’ll get some business from the munchies.” Lacey cringes at the realization and nods. “Hey, you think I could sell some cookies at your bookstore? Maybe, it can help drum up some business,” Lacey suggests.

“I don’t see why it would be an issue. Let me just read up on the regulations on it just in case we need a special license or something, but it’s such a cute idea. I can get one of those rollie carts and call it the Cookie Cart. Ooh, maybe I can give a free bookmark with each purchase of a cookie.”

“That’s a great idea. Then I could offer the same thing when someone buys a certain thing at the restaurant. Like, get a ten percent coupon for the bookstore. How do you feel about being a dinner special?”

“Ahh, I love this idea. We are just two business girlies supporting each other. Soon, well, be girl bosses dominating the world.”

“Uhh, excuse me. Last time I checked, you were already a girl boss, who dominates the world. I mean In The Shadows has been in The New York Times Best Sellers for fifty-two weeks, now. You went on an international book tour for your debut book and you are writing the much-anticipated sequel as we speak. You made it, girl.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t discount your achievements though. You literally worked at a Michelin-star restaurant and graduated top of your class at Le Cordon Bleu in Paris. Now, you are opening your own restaurant at twenty-three.”

The girls laugh at the little spiel they went on about being proud of their achievement and return to the paperwork they were going through for each of their respective businesses. In the five years since graduating high school, Y/N graduated from Oxford at twenty-one, but not before signing a deal with a major publisher for her book. A year later, her book is on the best sellers list and she is whisked away all over the world to promote it. She does recognize that her success may in part have to do with her mother and considered writing under a pseudonym, but decides against it when she realizes it wouldn’t really do anything. Using a fake name would mean she wouldn’t be able to make an in-person appearance out of concern for being recognized. It’s not exactly like her face has been hidden from her mother’s social media page. She really wants to have those moments to connect physically with her fans.

On the other hand, Lacey had gone to culinary school at Le Cordon Bleu, and then quickly got a job at the Michelin-star restaurant. She decided to quit her job there so that she could open up her own restaurant.

——

Y/N has no clue where she is going. Mason had just told her to get dressed nicely and to get in the car. She couldn’t get a question out, so she followed his instructions and got changed. She put on tan-coloured pants and a light pink balloon-sleeved satin blouse. She wore a black belt with a gold buckle and golden jewellery to pull the outfit together. Y/N sulked as she walked to Mason’s car. Her pestering as to where they were going went unanswered. When she sees where he stops the car, she wants to literally jump out of the car and run home. “Why did you bring me here, Mace?”

“It’s their engagement party today. I wasn’t planning on bringing you, but Blythe called and she literally begged me to bring you today. She knows how much you meant to Rafe and wants to get to know you more. She hopes, maybe even, that you guys can make up.”

Y/N gives Mason a questioning look, “She wants her fiancé to get along again with his ex-girlfriend?” Mason nods and gently moves to bring his sister inside. “Blythe is a sweet girl and she really loves Rafe. She feels secu-.” Realizing that what he was about to say may have made his sister feel bad, he quickly switches to a different path. “Blythe is really friendly. She makes it her mission to help mend broken relationships. Rafe told me that she got two girls who were best friends when they were younger to make up after they got into a two-year fight over a boy. Can you just go in? You don’t have to talk to anyone and I literally brought you a book.” Y/N isn’t too excited about going to her ex-boyfriend’s engagement party, but she does as her brother asks.

The twins enter Tannyhill together and are immediately given each a hug from the excited bride-to-be. “Ahh, and in comes the best man. You are only a tiny bit late, Mace. Y/N, I’m so glad you decided to come. I just know you and Rafe will make up in a jiffy.” Y/N gives an awkward smile, “Yeah, I totally chose to be here voluntarily.” Mason discretely elbows his sister in the stomach with a smile on his face. Play nice, the action signified. Blythe doesn’t seem to sense the sarcasm in Y/N’s words and turns towards Mason. “We are going to take the wedding party pictures now. Come on,” Blythe orders, taking Mason’s hand and dragging him away. “Rafe, say hello to Y/N.”

Y/N hadn’t noticed that Rafe had been standing at the main entrance too. Blythe has a way of holding everyone’s attention in a room. He had been standing there quietly observing the greetings. He quickly murmurs a hello then goes off after Blythe before Y/N can return it. She isn’t sure what to do and seeing as the only people she knows at the party are groomsmen, she goes upstairs to read on the balcony. She knows she probably shouldn’t be up there, but the balcony was guest free and she really didn’t want to explain who she was to anyone else.

The broken silence from the front yard causes her to look up from the book. She silently watches as it appears the party is being moved outside. Rafe’s arm is wrapped around Blythe’s waist as she makes a speech thanking everyone for being there. Once she is done talking, Rafe follows her around whilst she talks from guest to guest. Rafe and the older lady listen to something Blythe says and they both laugh their heads off. This is why Y/N had to break up with Rafe. She could never be the social butterfly that matched his need to be around people. She could never fake pleasant conversations with people she doesn’t know. She would never want any of the traditional things associated with a wedding. And Rafe deserves all of that. Watching Blythe be all of those things for him cements the idea into Y/N’s mind that she did the right thing for him. He was able to move on and thrive with someone much more like him. With someone who didn’t hold him back.

“Why does it not surprise me that you are up here?” A voice breaks the silence. Y/N turns to see a much older Wheezie at the door of the balcony. “OMG, Wheez. Look how big you’ve gotten. You are such a dignified young woman. Are you driving yet?” Wheezie moves herself to go sit beside Y/N, “Thank you, but I only seem to have gotten bigger because you haven’t seen me in five years. And I am driving. Rafe and Sarah are too scared to be in a car with me though. Blythe lets me drive her but I think only because she wants brownie points with me.”

“It’s still nice of her though. Do you like her?”

“Yeah, but you would let me drive you because you believe in my driving. Not because you want me to like you. You bribed me with cookies for that. She does it because she wants me to like her. She’s nice, though. But you know, she doesn’t make Rafe’s eyes twinkle as much as you do.”

“Louisa, you can’t keep comparing me to her. She’s the one marrying your brother.”

“And you are the one who still has a tighter hold on his heart even if he won’t admit it. You know I’m still angry at you for breaking up with him in the first place. But I missed you too much to be mad at you right now.”

“You gotta stop saying that. And I know you are mad. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have iced you guys out like that. I’m back now though and you can tell me all about your high school experience.”

“Yeah, yeah. We can talk about that later. Right now, I want you to sign my book.”

“You read my book?”

“Of course I did. You tell the best stories. You know Damian is an interesting character.”

“He is, isn’t he? Don’t you just love a good demon love interest?”

“Yeah, that’s totally why I find him interesting…”

Y/N doesn’t comment on Wheezie’s crypticness and follows the girl to her bedroom where the book sits. She signs the book and is dragged back downstairs to the party by the younger girl. Wheezie promises to come back and darts off to who knows where. Y/N is left alone in the kitchen she once used to make dessert cookies for her first date with Rafe. She resorts back to reading her book on the kitchen island. The sound of someone entering the kitchen causes her to look up from her book. Rafe is at the entryway staring at her with a scowl. “Where did you run off to, Y/L/N?”

“I was upstairs on the balcony, reading.”

“You know, typically guests aren’t allowed upstairs during a party.”

“Wheezie didn’t seem to have a problem with it.”

“Yeah, well, she worships the ground you walk on so she isn’t exactly a non-biased host.”

They stare each other down for a few seconds in silence before Y/N decides to break it.

“You told me you wanted to get married at twenty-five.”

“And you told me that you wanted to be with me forever. I guess we are both pretty good at changing our life plan without telling the other.”

“Haha, such a good retort. You really thought that would hurt me, Rafe?” Her words are only half true. The reminder of the choice she made stings a lot if she were to be honest, but she wasn’t about to admit that. Rafe just shakes his head and pushes past her to get to the fridge. He gets a drink out of it, “Whatever, I don’t have time to deal with this.” On his way out of the kitchen, he accidentally brushes her arm with his elbow and the scent of sea breeze and pool overwhelms her. The fact that he still smells the same after all these years causes her breath to hitch and tears to start to swell in her eyes. Rafe wants to pretend like he doesn’t see it. He wants to pretend like he doesn’t care, so he does. Now, she is left alone in the kitchen, wondering where the hell Wheezie went.

Y/N goes in search of the younger girl, but it seems to be like playing a game of Where’s Waldo with the amount of other people in the house. Somehow, Y/N always seems to find herself in the same room as Rafe and it doesn’t go unnoticed by her that every time he spots her, he moves to another room. He’s avoiding her and she obviously understands why he would. Eventually, she gives up on finding Wheezie, but she soon regrets staying in the now-empty backyard. Because Ward Cameron is quick to make his presence known to the girl. “I didn’t think I’d be seeing you here.” Y/N looks at Ward with critical eyes, it’s not every day she sees the human embodiment of her insecurities in person. Her hands go to hold her locket and plays with it between her fingers.

“I’m not here out of my free will. The bride wanted me here and what the bride wants, she gets.”

“Ahh, yes. Blythe,” Ward begins, they both look at Rafe and Blythe through the window. “Isn’t she a much better fit for him? She went to UNC with him. She moved to the OBX for him. Look at everything she sacrificed for him.” Y/N watches as Blythe and Rafe interact with the guests of the party. She can’t listen to Ward’s insistent belittling of her, so she does what Rafe would argue she does best and runs away from Tannyhill. She runs as fast as she can back home without a care for her tired limbs. Once safely in the sanctuary of her room, she slams her back against her door and starts crying. She doesn’t know why she is; she’s over Rafe. She let him go, but something about Ward poking holes at all of her insecurities brought back some complicated feelings she always seems to want to repress.

——

Rafe had seen Ward talking to Y/N through the glass and he watched confused as she ran off after something his father said. He had no idea what Ward said but he was sure as hell going to find out. The engagement party has finally come to an end. Rose and Blythe went out to do some wedding shopping, while Sarah and Wheezie went to go do sister things, leaving Rafe the perfect opportunity to interrogate Ward. “What did you say to my ex-girlfriend?” Ward turns toward his son in his desk chair, “Nothing she hasn’t already heard before. What does it matter? As far as I know, you didn’t want anything to do with her.” Rafe shakes his head at his dad’s callousness. “Really, Dad? Even after we’ve been broken up for five years, you still find a way to torment her,” Rafe argues.

Ward gives a questioning tilt of his head towards his father, “She broke up with you. How could you still care for you?” “She may have made the decision to break up with me and I will always be angry at her for that. But I’m not oblivious enough to think you were a harmless observer in Y/N and mine’s relationship,” Rafe begins. “I know you probably said some things to her that set our break up into motion. I want to make something clear, Dad. Even if we are broken up, I don’t want you to get your claws into Y/N’s head ever again. She doesn’t deserve it no matter how much she hurt me.” Rafe finishes his threat and gets up from the chair he sits upon. He storms out of Ward’s office without another word.

Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gillybear17 @f4ll-for-you @winterrrnight @maggiecc

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