#rydal keener x you | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

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

628 notes · View notes

spicyllewyn · 6 months

Text

Kinktober 7. - Exhibitionism

Rydal Keener x F!Reader.

Tags & warnings. Exhibitionism + brat tammer. (+18)

Word count. 1.4k

Summary. You want to keep acting like a bitch? He'll treat you like one.

Kinktober masterlist.

It had been 20 minutes since you couldn't stand yourself. The heat of Greece was killing you; everything felt sticky, your hair had frizzed up after the long time you spent fixing it, and you undoubtedly despised Rydal.

Why? You didn't really have a reason; he was just the last person you wanted to see. Which was a bit silly considering that you were traveling together.

You had a complicated relationship, yes, but he was a good friend and an excellent tour guide.

Oh, and he was amazing in bed.

Maybe he didn't deserve it, but when bad mood struck, it was a lost battle for you and everyone around you. The best thing was to simply wait for time to pass until things relaxed on their own.

You had been walking for an hour, and he kept talking, talking, talking, never stopping. You just nodded or made sounds that translated as a 'Yes, I'm listening' kind of thing.

"And... the last step." This was a tradition of his; you celebrated reaching the end of the path, together and out of breath.

There were almost always kisses involved, and the way you turned your face to avoid him was enough to make Rydal lose the ounce of patience he had left with you. Still, he smiled; he always had everything under control.

"We made it. Bochali viewpoint."

The village looked beautiful from up there, and you couldn't deny that both the silence and having completed the journey did ease your furrowed brow a bit.

"Sit on the edge," he murmured in your ear, and you could only look up, confused by the sudden order.

"What? I don't think it's allowe..."

"Sit on the edge." His voice suddenly grew firmer, and his hand on your lower back gave you a little push that made you walk clumsily. You looked around to make sure that no one else could see you and obeyed. With your gaze ahead, you sat on the rocky ledge that protected the edge of the lookout.

You felt the uncomfortable pressure of the stones against your skin, your thighs exposed thanks to your choice of wearing a sundress that ensured you wouldn't pass out from the heat halfway. Rydal stood up behind you.

"You've been acting like a fucking bitch all day," he whispered in your ear, your cheeks turning a rosy cute tone almost instantly as his hands settled on your hips. "Open your legs."

You weren't far enough away; you could make out the figures of people in the distance, which undoubtedly meant that people could see you.

"Rydal, no, they can see us," you stammered quickly, his right hand sliding down one of your legs until he could give a tug, opening them just as he had asked.

You swallowed hard.

"If you want to behave like one, then I'll treat you like one." One of his hands remained on your thigh, his fingers gripping it to make you understand that you couldn't cover yourself. "We'll let everyone see how much of a bitch you are." He licked his lips before starting to kiss your neck softly.

Maybe that's what you needed to forget your bad mood.

You closed your eyes, and instinctively, your head tilted to the side, giving him more room in the area as his kisses turned into bites and hickies. You both had been there for three days, and you couldn't find any more space on your skin to add more marks.

Your underwear became damp in less time than you would have liked. His fingers teased your pussy lips above the fabric.

"Take off your panties," he whispered against your skin as he slowly slid said piece of fabric down your thighs. You obediently lifted your hips so he could expuse you completely, letting your underwear fall.

You always thought that if you left a souvenir on one of your trips with a guy, it would be one of those locks with both of your names on a cute bridge, not your panties caught in some bushes a few meters away.

You felt the breeze hit the humidity between your legs and a shiver ran through you from head to toe. His left hand held you still in place by your waist, his opposite hand began the work.

He slid his index and middle finger between your lips to wet them with your arousal, you trembled when they found your entrance, firmly inserting themselves inside you.

“Fuck, Rydal.” You stammered as your back pressed against his chest for balance.

“This was what you needed, wasn't it?” He took out his fingers and pushed them back into you with such speed and force that you were able to hear how the liquid coming out of you made his thrusts louder. “If only I had known this was enough to wipe that scowl off your pretty face.”

You nodded quickly with your eyes closed, your head falling onto the boy's shoulder.

“Put your legs up.”

“Rydal.”

“Put them up.” He growled and you obeyed awkwardly. You raised both legs onto the fence, bending them slightly so that you were completely exposed to the panorama. Surely more than one person had already seen you. “I want to show them how to treat a brat like you.”

With his fingers completely inside you, and he continued to push deeper. You felt him rub against that sweet spot inside you that made you whimper out loud.

Your slick wet the stones beneath you, you moved your hips slowly seeking more contact between your body and his hand. You thought you were about to lose your mind when his thumb pressed against your swollen clit, hungry for some attention.

“Look at you, sweetheart.” The hand that was kept on your waist crawled up little by little, cupping one of your tits. He squeezed with his fingers in that rough way that only Rydal knew. “Such a good girl.”

It didn't take long for him to slide his hand under the neckline of your dress to have better access to your breast, pinching your nipple until it hurt, you whimpered with your eyes closed. You were getting closer to your limit.

“Apologize.” Of course, Rydal already recognized perfectly when your body was about to reach it, he felt your walls squeeze his fingers while he increased the pace of his movements. “Come on, tell me you're sorry.”

“S-Sorry, Rydal, s-sorry.” You muttered in a breathy voice as you swore you heard your screams echoing across the landscape. You were close to begging for more.

“Louder, princess, I couldn't understand you.” Princess was his favorite nickname for when you were misbehaving. He always told you that you behaved like one, not exactly as a compliment.

"Sorry, sorry! M-More, please, please. R-Rydal!”

“Are you going to behave like that again?” His thumb played with your clit, giving it quick touches that made your entire body vibrate in place, suffering from small spasms.

When you didn't respond his fingers came out of you, he used them to gently slap your sensitive pussy. It throbbed around nothing and you could swear your eyes were filling with tears from your desperation to cum once and for all.

"Answer to me". One more slap brought out a pained moan from you, your body shaking.

"N-No." You shook your head quickly, your back arching slightly in place as a way to push your hips closer to his hands. “I-I won't, I…” You took a deep breath. You were choking in your own moans. "I promise".

"Good girl". Placing a small kiss on your shoulder he finally gave you what you wanted, his fingers inserting inside you again, his thumb pressing your clit and tracing circles that brought you to the end faster than you expected.

Your whole body tensed as you enjoyed the devastating orgasm, he nibbled on your neck roughly with the intention of leaving more marks on it. His opposite hand kept pinching your nipple on the left side.

His movements became slow as you relaxed, and after a few minutes he finally removed his fingers from inside you and brought them to your mouth, pushing them between your lips in an act that you accepted immediately. With your eyes closed and breathing hard you began to suck them clean, tasting yourself.

"Better?" He placed one last kiss on your cheek, but not before you turned towards him, your lips brushing against his as you felt him smile.

You nodded your head slowly, something almost imperceptible.

"Do you want to eat something?"

You nodded again, and he gave a small laugh.

“No wonder you were in such a bad mood.”

Tag list. @ninebluehearts @shousha133 @unear7hly @onefinnedwonder-fm @automnepoet @lokisremainingsanity @uncle-eggy @just-a-nightdreamer @spktrgantenk @chinglewingledingledong @queerponcho @faretheeoscar @spideyman-peter @poppyflower-22 @steven-grants-world @urmomsgays-world

Remember to comment if you want to be on the kinktober tag list!! <3

This is my comeback lol not a fan of it but hopefully my brain will start braining

#rydal keener #the two faces of january #rydal x reader #rydal x y/n #rydal smut #rydal fanfic #rydal fanfiction #rydal keener x reader #rydal keener x y/n #rydal keener x you #rydal x you #rydal keener smut #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac fanfic #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac x reader

237 notes · View notes

leiakenobi · 2 years

Text

Offering

Fandom: Dune (2021)/The Two Faces of January (2014) crossover Pairing: Leto Atreides/Rydal Keener/F!Reader Rating: Mature Word Count: 1.2k words Summary: You are happy, but for each exquisite moment you spend in his arms, you are under no illusion that Leto is yours. So you feel no shame in the way that your eyes wander across his court, settling more often than not on his young attendant, Rydal. Warnings: Mild sexual content A/N: This fic has been languishing in my WIPs folder for over 6 months, and I finally managed to give it an ending this morning! I hope folks enjoy the concept of a crossover between these two as much as I do.

Read it on AO3 here!

——

The Duke is tender.

That is, perhaps, what surprises you most of all, when he first takes you into his bed. So much gravitas, so much power, and yes—his kisses are full and sure.

But his hands trace your body with a lightness that takes your breath away.

Not always, of course. Especially not after he fills you late one evening and you whisper in his ear, “Could you be a little rougher, my Duke?”

He lets out a groan, then, his breath hot across your neck. “Leto,” he replies softly, before fucking you so hard that you’re sore for two days.

He’s never before asked you to call him by his name, but you gasp it more than once that night.

And somehow, even then – even then, with his rough kisses and his vice-like grip on your wrists and his heady, frantic thrusts – he is tender.

You are happy, but for each exquisite moment you spend in his arms, you are under no illusion that he is yours. You know that his Lady Jessica isn’t even the only other woman who’s intimately familiar with his touch. (And you know, too, that the Duke’s tastes don’t stop at women.)

So you feel no shame in the way that your eyes wander across his court, settling, more often than not--

Rydal must be nearly twenty years Leto’s junior, his face fresh and clean-shaven and his eyes bright. He stands attendant over each long supper, lingering close-at-hand to meet all of the Duke’s needs. He’s close-at-hand outside of the Duke’s chambers, too, at least into the early hours of the morning. Each time you extract yourself from Leto’s arms to return to your own small room, your eyes hesitate on the young servant with the ever-present smirk on his face.

The smirk tells you that he’s intimately familiar with the sound of your moans, and you don’t think you mind.

“Good evening, my lady,” he will murmur each time, and you don’t think you mind.

You couldn’t say precisely when those long gazes turn into a sweeter sort of drawn-out fantasy, but you find yourself having fanciful sorts of daydreams—your fingers in his soft, thick hair, his face buried in your chest, his hand tucking between your thighs.

Over dinner you imagine Rydal coming around the table to duck down and kiss along your neck.

Leto guides you to his chambers and you imagine another you, a bolder you, stepping out from under his grasp to grab Rydal by the hips and press him against the wall. Kiss that boyish smirk away.

But it is, you think, fantasy.

And then you’re standing at the foot of Leto’s bed while he discards some papers that a diplomat so unceremoniously tucked into his hand as you left the great hall together. You’re reaching up to pull away the straps of your gown when Leto is there behind you, his hand settling above yours and stilling your movement.

Grazing his lips over the back of your neck, he murmurs, “No need to rush.”

The Duke kisses your neck, slow and languorous, as his hands settle on your waist and pull you flush against him; the buttons of his formal dinner coat dig into your spine, and something about the feeling makes you shiver. It makes you close your eyes and sigh.

“What do you think of Rydal, my darling?”

Your eyes are open again in an instant, settling on the wall of ornate mirrors on the far side of the room. You cannot help but feel insignificant in the context of the splendor that’s been accumulated by generations of Atreides, but you also cannot possibly miss the way that Leto, too, is watching your reflection. You can’t miss the way he’s smiling.

“Your attendant?” you ask softly.

He hums his confirmation against your neck at the same moment that he grazes his teeth over your skin.

“I can’t say that I think of him enough to have much of an opinion.”

While you’re saying it, it doesn’t feel like a lie. You think of him, perhaps, but mostly to wonder whether he’s clever with his fingers and his tongue. That can’t be what Leto is asking you about.

But your words hang in the air and you realize otherwise almost at once.

Leto is patient, though, so perhaps he expected you to play coy. Softly, so softly, he nuzzles at your jaw right where it meets your neck, even as his grip on your waist grows tighter. “I wouldn’t take it personally if you do. I’m under no illusions that you belong to me. If your eyes, or any other part of you, were to stray elsewhere…” You inhale a sharp breath as he presses his pelvis close, making you all too aware of his increasing arousal. “They’d be lucky, to know how exquisite it is to have you in their bed.”

You open your mouth to speak, not quite certain what you might even want to say. You search for words for what feels like an age, though it’s likely only a few seconds before Leto chuckles in your ear. “Whatever you have thought about him, I can almost guarantee that your time with him would be more satisfying than you’ve imagined.”

There’s a playfulness to his tone that goes straight to your core, a playfulness that makes you raise your eyebrows at his reflection and ask, “Do you speak from experience, my Duke?”

It’s a bold question, even bolder because you’re still skirting around the issue of your own interest in the attendant. But Leto smirks, digging his fingers into your hip just a bit too tightly. “I daresay he would gladly join us,” he says, rather than answering your question. That feels like answer enough. “If you invited him inside.”

If you hadn’t known Leto for quite so long, you might have received this as an imperative. But over countless evenings at his side and in his bed, he’s allowed you glimpses at the tender essence of his core, and you feel it now, just barely beneath the surface of his words.

You hear it as an offer. You hear it as confirmation that he’s not remotely oblivious to your desire and he would like to sate it for you, if you will let him.

With trembling hands, you sever Leto’s grasp on you, turning to press a soft, slow kiss to his lips. You remain utterly silent as you cross the floor, footsteps echoing through the room and Leto resolute and statuesque where you left him. And then, hauntingly, the door creaks and groans as you ease it open.

Rydal stands close at hand but a pointedly respectful distance away, his eyes a little frantic even as he smiles at you—as though it took him by surprise that you’ve returned so quickly.

“Is everything alright, my lady?”

An ease settles over you in an instant.

“The Duke and I are in need of your company.”

Cautiously, he smiles, and you’re struck by a pleasant truth.

You think Rydal might be tender, too.

——

interested in my other fics or my taglist form? you can find them on my masterlist here

blanket taglist: @amneris21, @brandyllyn, @iamskyereads, @jaime1110, @justjaclin, @marvelousmermaid, @mstgsmy, @pilothusband, @princessxkenobi, @pumpkin-stars

oscar taglist: @aellynera, @alwritey-aphrodite, @egcdeath, @genea-myers, @jitterbugs927, @rosiefridayrogersunday, @thedukeofcaladan

leto and/or rydal taglists: @dailyreverie, @disabledameron, @jettia, @mariesackler, @millllennia, @pedrosbisch, @stark-kirk-rogers-grant-blog, @zhonglis-wine

#leto atreides x reader #leto atreides x you #rydal keener x reader #rydal keener x you #fanfic #my fic #created

131 notes · View notes

oscarisaacsspit · 1 year

Text

the cuntery of it all

2K notes · View notes

jakelcckley · 2 years

Text

OSCAR ISAAC WITH BLACK AND WHITE FILTER >>>>>>>

2K notes · View notes

spacecowboyhotch · 2 years

Text

Oscar Isaac Character Masterlist

* indicates nsfw/smut/18+.

Marvel - Moonknight/ATSV

Marvel Masterlist

Jonathan Levy - Scenes from a Marriage

By Chance Universe* (completed)

Silky Sweet*

Filthy*

Santi “Pope” Garcia - Triple Frontier

Burn: Part 1 | Part 2

The Lion (and the Lamb)

A Winter Vacancy

Over a Ledge

Blurring Out

Personal Issue

The Dead Horse

Nathan Bateman

In Plain Sight* (miniseries)

Again*

Rydal Keener

More to Endure | MTE Moodboard

EXTRAS

Kinktober 2022*

Fluffy Feb 2023

Summer Blurbs 2023 (some *)

292 notes · View notes

campingwiththecharmings · 5 months

Text

*These weren’t necessarily written and/or posted in October, but that’s when I read them 😊

🔥 - explicit/mature content

Star Wars

Sunk (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

🔥An Unorthodox Method (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @the-little-ewok

🔥Kinktober Day 1 (Love Bites) (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Kinktober Day 4 (Sex Pollen) (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Kinktober Day 7 (Soft and Slow) (Cal Kestis x Reader) - @flightlessangelwings

🔥Kinktober Day 10 (Stripping) (Stripper!Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @youvebeenlivingfictional

I just called to say I love you (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @nowritingonthewall

Adore you (Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader) - @dailyreverie

🔥Kinktober Day 25 (Breeding) (Cowboy!Din Djarin x Cowgirl!Reader) (Part of the Gardens of Babylon Universe) - @spacecowboyhotch

Moon Knight

🔥Over the Counter (DBF!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Vivid (Marc Spector x Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Shades of the Moon (Virgin!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @missdictatorme

Boundless (Witch Hunter!Marc x Witch!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Price You Gotta Pay (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥The Sweetest Sound (Mafia!Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥The Sweetest Taste (Mafia!Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Kinktober Day 10 (formal wear) (Steven Grant x Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Kinktober Day 6 (Phone Sex) (Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Kinktober Day 12 (Formal Wear) (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥What a Show (Mafia!Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥La Petite Mort (Ghost!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @hon3yboy

🔥Pumpkin Porno (OnlyFans!Steven Grant) - @ominoose

In the morning light (Marc Spector x Reader) - @dailyreverie

🔥Nature Boy (Werewolf!Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @hon3yboy

🔥Sleeping Dogs (Werewolf!Marc Spector x F!Reader) (Part of the Dancing with Wolves Series) - @hon3yboy

🔥What A Wicked Thing To Do (Werewolf!Marc Spector x F!Reader) (Part of the Dancing with Wolves Series) - @hon3yboy

🔥Kinktober Day 23 (Begging) (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

🔥Couch Sex with Miguel (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @romanarose

🔥Kinktober Day 7 (& 8): Soft & Slow (Cockwarming) (College!Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥soft s3x and grey sweats (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @wyvernest

Ex Machina

🔥Peak-A-Boo (Ghostface!Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @hon3yboy

🔥Perfect Little Fuck Toy (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Sucker Punch

🔥Product Demonstration (Club!Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Monster Mash (Rockstar!Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @hon3yboy

Triple Frontier

Under cotton and calicoes (Santiago Garcia x Reader) - @dailyreverie

Make this feel like home (Santiago Garcia x Reader) - @dailyreverie

🔥Kinktober Day 30 (Cunnilingus) (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Just A Little Push (Will Miller x F!Reader) - @missdictatorme

Scenes From a Marriage

🔥Kinktober Day 2 (bath/shower) (Jonathan Levy x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Kinktober Day 15 (Against a Wall & Voice Kink) (Jonathan Levy x Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

The Two Faces of January

🔥Kinktober Day 7 (Slow and Soft) (Rydal Keener x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥body talk (Rydal Keener x F!Reader) (part of the Oxford Comma series) - @whatthefishh

Misc.

🔥Just A Scratch (Jack Mohave x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Take Care (Anselm Vogelweide x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Service Fee (Llewyn Davis x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥If You Wanna Be Wild (Javier Peña x Latina!sex worker!informant!Reader x Santiago Garcia) - @romanarose and @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction (i already recced this but there's more so 🙃)

Thank you to all the wonderful writers for sharing their stories with us 🥰❤️

*For more recs, please feel free to check out my fic rec tag.

**If you’d like to have your fic removed from the list, I completely understand, just let me know

#poe dameron x reader #din djarin x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #santiago garcia x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #jonathan levy x reader #nathan bateman x reader #rydal keener x reader #jack mohave x reader #anselm vogelweide x reader #llewyn davis x reader #javier pena x reader #will miller x reader #blue jones x reader #cal kestis x reader #fic rec #damn i read a lot in october

234 notes · View notes

eyelessfaces · 7 months

Text

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑: 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

rydal keener x reader

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤: slow and soft

warnings: angst, piv sex

word count: 0.4k

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

“Why do you have to leave” he complains in what could almost resemble a whine as his hips push languidly into you, as he holds tighter onto your intertwined fingers besides your head. Your free hand grabs the back of his head, burying into his soft, straight hair, pushing him down onto your face so your lips could meet.

You sigh into his mouth as his tongue slips into yours, that sweet feeling you know you will miss and long for the moment you will realize you’re apart for good.

You should have known it was a bad idea, falling in love with a man you knew you would have to leave eventually.

“I don’t want to, believe me” you breathe out against his mouth once you pull away, brushing along his cheekbone with your thumb. “I’d stay by your side if I could” you nod, staring deep into his eyes as the inner corner of his eyebrows angled up in a weakened expression. "But Greece isn’t where I should be" you muttered under your breath, your own words making your heart break.

He grunts as he angles his thrusts deeper inside you, making you grab onto his bicep as your mouth falls open.

"You should– you should be by my side, it doesn't have to be about Greece" he declares before he lets out a strangled moan, squeezing your hand as his forehead presses against yours.

"And– give up the life you built here?" you ask, your hand traveling back up his arm, your thumb caressing the hollow of his neck.

"Yes." his answer is rushed, the idea of a second thought completely scratched.

You chuckle, stunned by the absurdity of the possibility. Your heart still aches at the fact that he was ready to leave everything behind for you.

"I can't." you weakly admit as his head buries into your neck. “You’ll be okay without me. Find someone else, love her as much as you loved me, even more. I won’t be mad at you”

You feel his tears dampening your skin, his breath faltering in quiet sobs as he still continues to press light, gentle kisses to your skin as he thrusts slowly and deep into you. You bite down onto your lip as you feel your own tears starting to threaten your eyes and a knot forming at your throat.

The worst part of this is holding you tight knowing it's the last time he ever will, knowing you will be gone tomorrow.

—

as always please reblog and tell me your thoughts it helps a lot!!

tagging some mutuals because I don't have a rydal taglist, feel free to ignore <3: @my-secret-shame @campingwiththecharmings @spacecowboyhotch @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @whatthefishh @missdictatorme @melodygatesauthor @midgardian-witch @foxilayde

+ @flightlessangelwings

#rydal keener #rydal keener x reader #rydal keener smut #oscar isaac #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #fawkinktober #the two faces of january

212 notes · View notes

romanarose · 8 months

Text

Fic Recs

I'll admit I've been slacking. A lot. It was a high anxiety summer as you know, and I've finally been able to pretty much cut ties with an abusive friend who was causing a LOT of those anxiety and panic attacks. BUT I want to rec some of my fav writers and fav stories.

To keep the presure low on myself I am only linking ONE story per writer, whatever story that speaks to me. I do hope if you like the story you'll check out more from them!

Please remember to reblog their stories if you read them, and if you feel inclinded, leave a kind comment! Big comments are fantastic but even a short "Great story!" Means the world!

Dead Dove Do Not Eat and all dark fics will be in red. Might make a whole other dddne tag list on my dark blog on of these days lmfao

Moon Knight

Fractured Moon by @melodygatesauthor : DDDNE Yandere Moon boys x reader, non con, extreme violence but such good interpretations of the boys

Friendly Favors by @runa-falls best friend steven, friends with benefits??? friends to lovers??? yes plzzz

Rydal Keener

Oxford Comma by @whatthefishh : Collage AU, Rydall is cunty, serves cunt, and eats cunt. What can I say.

TLOU (Most of what I'm reading rn if im being honest)

Linger On by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin : Pre-outbreak!Joel, angst, yummy smut, ft. my boyfriend, Tommy (Angela said I can be Tommy's gf)

Caught by @toxicanonymity : Inspired Keep Cry'n, Joel catches you when you try to run, masterbates onto your face. part 2 has TOMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Maintainence Man series by @gracieispunk : Joel is a, well, Maintenace man in our building! He is married but that doesn't stop him from fucking you

Hungry Hearts @atinylittlepain : If ya'll know me, you know I love Bruce Springsteen. I have 2 fics named after springsteen songs, one joel one javi/santi/reader. I've fallen behind on the series but loved it enough to make fan art! terrible fan art but still! Pre-outbreak, takes place in two timelines- college age and then the 2000'. Joel has Sarah, reader is ellies mom which I think is fun.

Exit Wounds by @strang3lov3 : No fic masterlist so I tagged the main masterlist. Now listen. I love Tommy Y'all know I love tommy... but cheating on tommy? Im so sorry baby. But ur also an asshole lol. Had it coming.

Creep by @theywhowriteandknowthings : I- ugh just read it. darkish but nothing insane like the wrong way lmfao. pretty mild comparatively but use discression but THAT TWISTTTTTTTT

Only Daddy That'll Walk the Line by @millerscoffee Yellow istead of red bc its not like. dark but Joel's pretty mean

Not A Survialist Girl by @tightjeansjavi again yellow bc joel's a dick lol but THE DIRTY TALK?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Miguel O'Hara

Halo by @missdictatorme : Miguel O'Hara goes full Nathan Bateman and fucks his ai. Whore.

Only You Only Me by @astroboots : so im behind on this one too. What about it! Im terrible I know but like Hungry Hearts above I may be a slow reader but I didn't forget and also did stupid fan art of this great fic too. lol. Anyway plz read this, I cant give a great summary bc im only a few chapters in but if youre in the oscar fandon you know cici writes only bangers

No One But Me by @koshkamartell : You try to break things off with Joel and begin spending time with the hot librrian in Jackson. Joel does not like thi

Triple Frontier

Under Neon Lights by @campingwiththecharmings : sexy drunk sex with my baby boi, santi <3

Through the Scope by @ssuperficialspacecadett : Reader works for Benny and falls for frankie. Great relationships with all the boys, reader has sexual trauma so you knoooooooow i eat these fics up!!!! lovely to see all them be appriciated with special focus on FRANKIE my precious lol guy

Shared Breathes by @frenchiereading : DAD FRANKIE x teacher reader. Triple frontier may have forgotten Frankie has a baby (he deserved the money for her) BUT WE DID NOT!!!!!

The Story of Us by @pimosworld : You served in the military with the boys but they made a deal not to sleep with you. Years later after helping you escape abuse, one by one they begin to waver aka you fuck them all. FishBen as a bonus!!

Goddamn have I really only been reading TLOU XD lmfao makes sense bc thats mostly what Im writing. That and the Javier pena x reader x santi and then the will fic but im soooooooooo much of a TLOU whore rn its insane.

Im sure ill remeber some more amazing TF fics soon but for now here we are!

Gonna plug real quick my latest one shot tho bc it's a holiday and I can self promo if I want! Shana Tova, moon boys x non jewish!reader where the moon boys share a part of their jewish identity with you!

THANK YOU TO ALL WRITERS FOR YOUR HARD WORK, I APPRICIATE YOU!

If you ever seen my like and not reblog know its just bc I forgot and im sorry. If you ever tagged me in a tag game and i never responded its bc I forgot and again IM SORRY

If I didnt tag anyone and you think i didt think your fic was worthy THATS NOT IT im simply overwhelmed with how much ive read and how this summer was and i just havnt organized it all. Im sorry!!

135 notes · View notes

ser-rctslcyer · 2 years

Text

And To Be Loved || Rydal Keener

Pairing: Rydal Keener x Gender-neutral! Reader

Word Count: 3.0k+

Synopsis: You want nothing more than to invite your best friend on vacation with you but it seems he needs a little encouragement– and maybe something more.

Warnings: Fluff, Romance, Banter, Love Confessions

A/N: some fluff for my dear @mccnknightstcrdst @einno-arko because we deserve nice things!

Translations: ανόητος - silly | Γαμημένη κόλαση - fucking hell | Αγάπη - Love |Σε αγαπώ - I love you

A cool breeze blows by, softening the hot gaze of the sun. The shade from the tree keeps the two of you cool enough as you sit on the bench. The two of you are finally off for the day, tours finished early as tourists had other places to be– mostly the bar. Rydal’s eyes are glued to the page, his pen scratching the paper as the words flow out of him like a running stream. You don’t want to be nosy, but you steal sparing glances, catching only parts of phrases and trying not to piece together what it all meant; admiring how beautifully neat his handwriting is. He had read some of his poems to you and you had treasured every single one. His talent, his passion for his art; he poured his soul into and you appreciated it. There are sometimes you wished you could have the tiniest bit of his talents just to tell him how you felt– but for now, baby steps.

Starting with a simple question.

You nudge him lightly, not enough to make his pen jump across the paper but enough to drag a bit of his focus out of writing. Or so you thought, yet he stayed quiet; head still down and eyes fixed as he filled the page. You did it again– pressing your elbow a little longer to his arms. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch his pen finally coming to a halt.

“I hope you know you are disturbing the process,” he chuckles; reading over his sentence, quietly mouthing the words.

“I sure hope I am.” you hum, delighted; kicking your feet back and forth. He shakes his head, sliding his pen into his shirt pocket, closing his notebook, and holding it against his stomach. He turns to you, giving you his signature sly smile— the one he uses on you the most when he’s about to be a little shit.

“Do you need something, ανόητος?” you glare at him, yet his smile still remains. He only calls you that when you’re being a “slight annoyance” (his words), and whilst he meant it affectionately, he teased you too often with it. You shoved him playfully again, shaking your head before you spoke again.

“Well, we’re not going to be receiving as many tourists soon, which perfectly arrives around that time for a vacation.”

“Oh, so you’re going back home?”

“What? No, no, no,” you quickly got up off the bench, moving to stand in front of him, “I was going to ask if you wanted to go on vacation with me!” you opened your arms out, basically inviting him to say yes.

“A vacation where?” his head cocked, slightly to the side, a small wave of anguish running through you; he was always so technical.

“I don’t know, yet but depending on your answer I’m sure we can figure it out.”

“Are you sure?” he inquires, a look of pure concern bleeding through his eyes; different from the looks he gives when your about to do something stupid.

“Yeah, why?”

“Because you’ve been away from your family quite a while; won’t they miss you if you don’t take the chance to see them?” he pries, an unusual sadness in his tone.

“Probably, but they’d be more disappointed if I missed the bigger holidays and some birthdays.” you shrug, trying to not sound desperate. Your family could wait truthfully, so long as you gave them a call at some point.

All you wanted was to take him on this trip– just you and him

“I guess that’s fair– what are they celebrating in the states right now anyway?”

“It’s October,” you answered, and Rydal still had the puzzled look on his face; the gears in his head still turning, “Halloween, remember?”

“Ah, I forgot.”

“Been in Greece too long, my dear rhapsodist; you’re forgetting your roots,” his smile twitches; exhaling harshly like he’d just been hit in the gut. He knows it’s unintentional, he knows that you’re unaware– but the looming thought of family shreds through him like an eagle catching its prey.

“And here I thought you didn’t know words that big.” he jests, shifting in his seat as he tried to peel away the awful feeling.

“Ouch, low blow man,” you stepped back clutching your heart, “not all of us can be master lyricists.”

“I don’t make songs,” he snorted, running his fingers through his hair.

“Oh but you do! Songs of pure devotion and sonnets of passion,” you serenade, raising your hand up in an elegant motion.

“Now who’s being rude now?”

“It’s not rude, it’s true! Tourist fawn over your flowery sultry syllables about Oedipus and his dear ol’ hot mom.”

“Γαμημένη κόλαση,” he drags his palms down his face, trying to repress the grin that starts to cling to his lips, “please never say that again.”

“But it’s true– the women practically were wanting to be your hot mom,” you tack on, a loud groan leaves his lips.

“Shut up.”

“I was explaining my point.”

“Back to your suggestion, where could we even go?”

“We could do Itay, Spain,” you pause for a moment, “perhaps France and visit The City of Love,” you shimmy suggestively which brings out a chuckle from him.

“Yeah, but how would we pay for that? We don’t make that much to be staying anywhere for too long.”

“Well, my dear, depending on where we choose, we can just take buses; but also I do have a good bit of reserve cash left, so all I have to do is exchange it and the fun is ours.” you bow dramatically, but there was no laugh that followed.

“I wouldn’t want you to spend everything just to invite me on your trip,” he admits solemnly; his words, yet sincere, shred your heart. You stand upright, brows furrowed as your eyes meet his again; the playfulness already long forgotten.

“You make it sound like your bad company to have around?” you questioned, watching the subtle emotions flutter through his eyes and lips.

“I just don’t think it’s worth wasting money on me,” he answered softly, eyes falling down to his feet. A sickly cool breeze blew by, while your heart ached as you stared at him. He was always pretty candid about not accepting much from you; even gifts you had to convince him, he was allowed to take it.

“Wasting mon– alright, that’s it, mister.” you stomp your foot, stepping up to Rydal and extending your hand out.

“What?”

“We’re going on a walk and you're going to be mostly silent as I explain something very important to you.”

“Okay.” his hand clasps yours and with a little tug, he pushes himself up off the bench.

“Where exactly are we walking to?”

“I told you, you’re listening right now.” you wiggle your other finger in front of him, before starting off away from the benches.

The sun was thankfully going down and so Greece was finally settling. He tried to keep his eyes on the things around you and yet they kept dipping back down to your hand holding his. You’ve held his hands' plenty of times over the last year and yet this one, this one makes his heart sing. His mind drifts to how perfect your palm fit against his, how the warmth between them feels almost like a soothing hug– how you clasp his hand tight enough, it feels like a promise.

He feels like a little kid again, freaking out over his crush showing him any bit of attention.

You walk toward the edge of the town, ending up on a beaten dirt road right before the coast. The water glimmers in bright yellows, deep oranges, and muddled reds as the sun takes its seat above the sea. He walks beside you, his hand tugged closer to your thigh as he stares ahead, lost in his own panicked thoughts.

“You know,” you begin softly, nudging him lightly with your shoulder, “for as much as I tease you, you’re not just my hot coworker, right?”

“Thanks?” he assumes, his confusion evident in just his tone alone. Your giggle calms him for a moment, as you come to a halt and he follows.

“Relax hon, I promise this isn’t anything truly serious,” he mourns the loss of your hand as you squeeze his shoulder. He nods his head curtly, trying to keep your gaze, the one he’s familiar with.

“I just want you to know, you mean a lot, okay? You were my first friend when I got here and I could never be more grateful for that,” his chest flutters, heart shaking as he digests your words. This was the first time, in a long dreadful time, someone had ever said something truly sincere to him– and he believed it.

“So when I want to indulge a little, especially on you; it’s not a bother! I am more than happy to spend extra so we can go fuck around The Colosseum,” your addition brings a laugh out of him, his first full one all day. He knows you’re still inviting him, he knows you’re being more than genuine when you say you’d spend extra for him, he knows it comes from an honest place of care– and it’s overwhelming.

“Well, one thing I know for sure is you’d be a terrifying gladiator.” he chimes in on your joke, earning a light ‘tsk’ from you.

“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”

“You should, your strength would be celebrated and favored amongst the people and especially the emperors,” he hummed, enjoying the grin that graced your lips.

“Oh, they would love my crazy.”

“Unless it was Commodus– then he might’ve jumped in and beat you to death,” another laugh leaves him as you put on your most exaggerated shocked face.

“Well shit, it’s a lose-lose either way then? He kills me or I kill him and get killed for treason.”

“A tough life, fit for only the best of the best.”

“Glad, you think I’m so cool then,” you bump your head against your shoulder, letting it rest there as the two of you watched and listened to the soft crashes of the waves. Your hand finds its way back to his, interlocking your pinkies and he wishes this moment could last forever– but at last, dreams are only meant for the sleeping.

“Thank you though, I just didn’t want to be a burden on you,” he answers, tilting his head down to look at you; greeted by the sight of your beautiful eyes.

“Hon, you could never be. You’re my friend, and if anything I am more than happy to do things for you– to help you. Truly, meeting you and getting to know you have been one of the best experiences of my life; I’m so happy I met you, Rydal.” you confessed and he tenses. Never in his life did he think such words would be directed at him. A life alone is what he believe he deserved, that loneliness he let burn into his heart– and now it all fell apart.

“Why are you crying, hon?” your voice is soft as you turn towards him, chest to chest; your hands gently caressing your face.

“Because you’re too nice to me,” he sniffled, a small whine leaving him as you brushed the tears away with your thumbs. He clutches his notebook tighter, his other hand pressed against his pant leg; fingers digging into the fabric. Feeling nothing more like that little kid who failed again; it’s embarrassing to him.

“As if you don’t deserve it, you’ve been nothing but kind to me since too; let me give it back for a change.” you squeeze his face gently; a small smile tugging on his lips.

“Okay,” he nods; you pull him into you, squeezing him into a reassuring hug. He lets himself finally relax, all of his wound-up emotions leaving him in one breath. He closes his eyes, taking in the salty air as he tucks his face into your neck.

“Better?”

“Better.” he answers and you smile, taking his hand again before you turn to start off down the path again.

“Actually, there’s something I want to tell you,” he stops again, your hands jerking a small bit as you came to a halt, “or well I think I need to,” his voice grows quiet and you stand in front of him again; still holding his hand.

“Yeah?”

“It might ruin things,” he warns, so unsure of what outcome he might get but he swallows down his fears.

“I doubt.”

“Αγάπη, it isn’t some joke,” he stresses, thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“And I’m not joking,” you squeeze his hand, “I doubt it’ll ruin anything.”

“Are you sure?” the uncertainty is there again and you remain firm.

“I promise,” and with those two words, he proceeds. He lets go of your hand and opens up his notebook, flipping through a chunk of full pages till he found the one he was looking for. He scanned over the words before looking back at you, taking in a deep breath.

“This might not be as eloquent as I usually am, but for some reason, the words tend to evade me when it’s you.” he glances back at the page, lips quivering the longer he stared at the dark scribbles. So much thought, so many emotions, here across these pages he spent hours obsessing over; trying to get right and yet it doesn’t feel enough– it doesn’t feel like him. His eyes close as he shuts his notebook again and when he looks back at you, he lets the feeling he’s let stew for the last two years, flow-through, “Σε αγαπώ.”

“Σε αγαπώ and there are not enough words, in any language, for me to properly tell you the feeling that burns beneath my heart for you. I know for a poet, that sounds awfully pathetic but everything just seems to blur, and my emotions– wound so deep, everything breaths in just one rhythm– you. I know this is sudden, I know it's awkward, I know you might not feel the same but I need you to know–” he catches his breath, feeling the tears prick his eyes again but he ignores them for the ones shining in your own.

“I need you to know, I love you.” he admits, the weight that had been holding down his chest evaporated as your lips, find their resting place– right against his own. The kiss is sweeter than any chocolate he’s ever tasted and softer than any of the round puffy white clouds in the sky. One of your hands find his jaw, as the other rests over his chest; etching small circles into his heart. His notebook rest against your lower back while he holds the back of your neck. This moment already starts sinking into memory, the gentle sound of an ocean full of you.

“I love you too,” you rasps softly, pecking his lips again, “I love you and if I was half as good with words as you, I’d tell you a million times over in just one simple sentence.”

“Now who’s being a lyricist.” he grins, kissing the corners of your lips.

“I’d write thousands and thousands of songs if it meant kissing you like that again.” you hum cheerfully, brushing your nose against his as you nip his bottom lip.

“Perhaps you should get on it.” he huskily whispers, only to be met with a small surprised chuckle. He raised his eyebrow at you curiously, struggling to contain yourself when it all finally made sense.

“I’m sorry, I–” you try to excuse but it’s too late, and you laugh hysterically into his chest. He tries to keep his own composure but the joy is contagious and he ends up laughing just as hard. It’s dark now and nothing but your amusement echoes.

“It was such a nice moment.” he sighs, trying to catch his breath after a moment.

“You have to watch your words, my little poet,” the pet name makes his heart soar and his legs feel wobbly, “I have no self-control.” you chuckle one last time before sealing your lips over his. The kiss is almost about the same, passionate and hungry but neither of you drive to speed through the moment.

“I’m very thankful for that.” he pants, pressing his forehead against yours as the two of you sway gently.

“I saw you look at your notebook– did you write that down all for this moment?”

“I was going for a flowery romantic confession, truthfully. I tried to write it out, but most of the words never came, so I improvised some lines,” he smiled, looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes.

“I’m glad you did, sweetheart,” you congratulate with another sweet kiss, “you’ve done the one thing that makes poets, great.”

“And what’s that?”

“Spoke from your heart,” you muse, the compliment brings forth another rise out of him; he kisses you again.

“So, when can I take you out on a date?” he murmurs against your lips.

“If you do one thing for me.”

“Which is?” you hook a finger under his chin, making sure he keeps his eyes on you.

“Pick a place and go on vacation with me.” you smile and he licks over his lips.

“Italy.”

“Are you still trying to get me to be your gladiator?” you tease, earning another bright beatuiful laugh out of him– something only you can do.

“You already are; the warrior of my heavy heart,” he confesses and you awe quietly.

“Ah, my little poet strikes again.”

“My place?” he inquires, as the two of you look up at the dark sky, littered with little white specs of starlight.

“Yes, there’s still a bunch I must do to mollify my emperor’s, heavy heart.”

“I look forward to it.”

“Then c’mon! There’s no time to waste!” your hand instantly finds his, and you take off. Rydal struggles to keep pace but once he does the two of you are giggling down the road and onto the next chapter of your lives; together at last.

#rct fic #rydal keener x reader #rydal keener x genderneutral! reafer #rydal keener x gn! reader

74 notes · View notes

emma23 · 9 months

Text

The honeymoon

Rydal Keener x Y/Y x Marc Spector

It was a sweltering day in Athens, the sun raking at Y/N's back as they sat in the shade away from the rest of the tour group. Y/n sat alone on a crumbling wall, admiring the view and the ancient stone structures.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" A smooth voice pulled you from your thoughts as you recognised your tour guide Rydal smiling down at you, dark hair smoothed back under his panama hat.

« Yeah we can say that » Suddenly the wind blow your hat away. « oh no ! »

He laughed and snatched the hat before it could blow away. "No hat will steal your beauty while I breathe!" He smiled and handed it back, his deep brown eyes looking into yours.

You smile « thank you »

His smile broadened and he gave a small bow.

"No, thank you for being so easy to charm! I should be the one thanking you for giving me the chance to speak with such a fine woman as yourself."

« Oh wow you always such a tease with your clients ? »

He chuckled and shook his head, the dark curls falling into his face. "Oh, no, no. Just for lovely women like such as yourself."

He smirked and looked at you intently, holding your gaze, your eyes meeting, something about his gaze held your attention.

« Ok » you put a hand on his torse and show him your hand « I’m a married women sorry » you smile kindly

He frowned slightly and nodded as if in understanding but his smile was still there. "Ah married, you're off limits then." He laughed and put a hand up as if it protected him.

"No offence I mean," He paused, biting off a chuckle.

"Does the lucky husband know what he's missing?" His gaze remained on you, his eyes piercing into yours, your hand still on his chest.

« Yeah we can say that. It was her honeymoon you know. He really wanted to come but you know work » You roll your eyes.

He laughed again, still studying you, his gaze intense yet not inappropriate. "I'd say you should have ditched him at home and told him he was missing out."

He leaned down closer to you, his hand gently covering yours that rested on his chest, his breath brushing against your cheek.

You taps her hands with your other one « Yeah maybe but I love him sooo » your back to him. The wind blow your hair and your dress and look at the view « it’s really beautiful »

He chuckled softly, his smooth voice making you flush as he looked up at you while holding your hand.

"Not as beautiful as you," He whispered playfully, his eyes flicking down to your dress, taking in the sight, his gaze lingering at your hips.

« Since your my guide tell me something » you smile kindle

He laughed and lifted your hand slightly, taking a closer look at it, tracing a finger along a vein, tracing the lines in the palm of your hand.

"What is there to ask?" He raised a brow, smiling, his face close to yours, his hand still on your chest, his gaze fixed on your eyes.

« I dont know it’s your job » You chuckle.

"True... well I could tell you all the sights to see in Athens but that would ruin the surprise."

He brushed a strand of hair from your face and his eyes roamed down to your lips just for an instant before meeting yours again but you felt them lingering there.

You smile than your eyes see someone that you recognize. It’s your husband. You go away from rydal. « Marc ! » You run to him and hug him with joy.

Rydal watched Y/n dash off in the direction of her husband, his eyes roving over her figure until he could no longer see her, his face set into a frown.

Time passed and Y/n and Marc eventually returned to the group, Y/n still laughing and smiling about something Marc had done.

Rydal sighed a little and stood up, he smiled at Marc and shook his hand, they briefly chatted before Rydal turned his attention to the group and led them to an old theatre.

During dinner Marc decide to invite rydal since Y/n told him good thing about him.

Y/n smile was infectious as they sat in a lively seafood restaurant, her hand on her husband's knee and he was playing along, both of them laughing. She noticed Marc look to Rydal and nod and her smile grew as she saw Rydal returning the nod. The restaurant was packed but she felt his gaze on her from across the table, smiling at just her, his head slightly bowed.

A moment you needed to go to the toilet. You put a kiss on Marc cheek than go.

Marc kissed Y/n too on the cheek and waved her off, his gaze turning back to the group. He saw Rydal watching Y/n with a small grin on his face as she walked off, his eyes locked on her. Rydal raised a brow at Marc as if waiting for him to do something. Marc leaned back in his chair and looked away, he knew where Rydal's eyes had been wandering.

You wait a long time for the toilet and waiting alone is boring but suddenly rydal is there.

Rydal looked at you with a smirk and leaned a little too close, his face just next to your ear before whispering. "What's a pretty girl like you doing here on her own?" He tilted his head slightly and his face was just inches away from yours.

You smile « waiting for the toilet »

He moved back slightly and looked at you with a sly grin, your husband was in the distance and wouldn't notice what he did next. He leaned in closer and whispered into your ear, his breath tickling your neck.

"Or are you looking for a little more than a toilet?" He smirked, his eyes wandering down to your lips.

You smirk « No and if I wanted that I would ask my husband »

His smirk grew wider as he watched you and nodded, his face still just next to yours, his hand reaching out and gently stroking your cheek. He chuckled and pulled back ever so slightly, raising a brow.

"Oh? And what's your husband doing that you aren't satisfied with?"

He looked at you with that same sly grin.

« Nothing is perfect »

He smirked and nodded.

"Perfect..."

He leaned in again, his lips just inches away from yours.

"Perfect, huh?"

You caught Marc glancing at you from the distance with a grin, he could tell what Rydal wanted.

When you see that Marc watch you go away and no more people wait for the toilet so you can go.

Rydal chuckled and glanced over to Marc who was now looking at him, still grinning as he saw you walk away.

Marc laughed again and motioned him over, he had a sly grin on his face.

"Behave yourself."

Rydal laughed and did a mock bow but he watched Y/n walk away and sighed.

"What a beautiful woman."

Marc chuckled and nodded, he knew exactly what his wife saw in Rydal.

When you go back to Marc, you see rydal looking at us. So you kiss Marc hard.

Marc smiled and pulled Y/n even closer as they kissed, clearly not minding the kiss and maybe even enjoying it.

Rydal rolled his eyes as he saw Marc and Y/n kissing and turned away, clearly jealous. He decided to leave the restaurant for a while to get some fresh air, his emotions running wild and he didn't want to watch Marc and Y/n together, it annoyed him.

At night in the hotel you had a problem of room. They only have separate room for Marc and you. So you sleep alone. That’s what you think. During the night you hear a knock. Of course you think it’s Marc but it’s rydal.

Rydal tapped lightly on the door before turning the handle to unlock it, the door swung open and he smiled at you.

"My oh my, Mrs Spector no need to spend the night alone, is there?"

He was clearly making suggestive comments, but you weren't sure if he meant it or not. Your husband Marc was in the other room and you didn't want him to know that you were sharing the night with his tour guide.

« Rydal I see what you want but I can’t…I m married ! »

"Can't say how tempting it would be Mrs Spector, but you're right. It would be wrong. But this isn't really cheating, is it?" He walked up to you, brushing your hair from your face as he spoke, a smirk on his face.

"It's just a little night of passion, a few hours and we both get what we want. What was that phrase? What happens in Greece... stays in Greece."

« Oh end shit ok ! »

He raised an brow playfully and chuckled softly.

"Not the most romantic words, but the message is clear." He smiled and took a step closer to you again, his breath tickling your cheek.

He brushed a strand of hair from your face before wrapping both arms around you and pulling you closer, his hands cupping the back of your head as he leaned in and whispered in your ear.

"You only live once, Mrs Spector, don't you think you deserve to enjoy it..."

« Call me Y/n. Tonight I m not married »

He smirked at that and nodded, his tone still flirty and playful.

"Very well, Y/n, who said tonight is the only night, what if we want to make another night like this one? What about another week?" He laughed softly.

"We could forget Marc ever existed, just you and me, what do you say?"

« Why not, but night just shut up and kiss me »

They make love during hours. When they finally finish rydal joke.

« So i was better than your husband ? »

You smile playfully « Go before my husband catch you ! »

Rydal laughed and moved towards the door, his body brushing against hers as he passed. He looked back over his shoulder at you and smirked before saying, just loud enough for you to hear.

"I'll see you later, Y/n."

During the day being with Marc seems so wrong. Your eyes was always on rydal and Marc remark it.

Marc saw her always looking at Rydal with a small smile on her lips, he felt insecure because she acted different around Rydal, nicer, more playful and flirty. He was getting suspicious but knew if he asked she would deny it and he didn't want to believe his wife would do anything to ruin their marriage.

Marc was getting even more suspicious, he noticed her body language changing when he tried to touch her or kiss her. He was starting to think that maybe she had another man and it hurt his pride, because if she was with another man he would want it to have been him. He knew she never declined sex and yet that's exactly what was happening now. Marc was hurting and confused, his pride wounded. So a moment he decided to talk with her.

Marc looked at Y/n with confusion in his eyes and a small glint of hurt underneath it all, despite the situation and his ego he still loved her.

"Y/n, is something wrong? Why are you... acting like this?" He sat down on their bed with a sigh. Y/n saw the hurt in his eyes as he looked at her, wanting an answer.

You were so deep into rydal that I didn’t see that you were less with marc « What ? nothing »

Marc's suspicions were growing, he could see that she was lying but he couldn't prove anything. He saw the longing in her eyes as she looked at Rydal, something he'd never seen in all their years of marriage and it hurt. He tried to shake the suspicions but he could feel her distancing herself in every small way, refusing his advances, avoiding holding his hand, she didn't even let him kiss her anymore. So Marc decide to confronte Rydal.

Marc walked over to Rydal who was talking with some of the other tourists around a fountain. His expression was cold as he looked at Rydal before speaking.

"What's going on with you and my wife?" Marc's tone was hard as his eyes narrowed, his expression clearly showing the distrust he felt towards Rydal.

Rydal looked surprised and shook his head, his tone shocked.

"Marc, you're accusing me of sleeping with your wife? Have you really lost your mind that-"

Marc cut him off with a glare and Rydal's smile faded.

« Stop fucking lying to me ! »

Rydal narrowed his eyes at Marc, his tone growing colder as he stepped closer.

"Is this the Marc Spector I talked to every day during the tour? The one that was friendly and easygoing? How dare you accuse me and your wife's, of sleeping with her all based on a look in her eye. Are you that paranoid?"

He stepped even closer, their faces now nearly touching.

"Or... wait... is this why you wanted to come to Greece? Did you think your marriage was in trouble and you wanted to keep an eye on your wife?"

« Stay out of my way and my wife ! »

Rydal looked at Marc with scorn as the two men now had each other close in an almost threatening display. Rydal leaned in even closer, his voice a low tone.

"How about Marc, you keep out of my life and my job and I'll keep out of your bed... fair?"

His tone and expression made his words seem more like a threat than just a simple question.

After this discutions rydal stop seeing Y/n and start flirting with a other girl. Y/n was really sad and even Marc could not make her happy again.

It was hard for Marc to see his wife suddenly so cold, so distant and yet it was happening. Y/n was no longer the woman he knew and loved and Marc was heartbroken. He tried to make her happy but it was like the moment he had asked about Rydal she had changed.

She no longer wanted to cuddle or kiss or even spend time together, she stayed in her room most nights, watching movies and working. When Marc asked for answers she claimed she just wanted time alone and Marc had no choice but to agree.

Y/n and Marc stayed at the hotel but Y/n seemed like a totally different person to the woman he married. She was cold, distant, she had stopped smiling and seemed totally focused on her laptop and her phone. Marc tried to make conversation but she was uninterested, she would reply with a simple "uh huh" or just a nod.

They didn't even sleep in the same bed and yet it was as though he barely knew her. Was Marc the reason she was like this?

Rydal continued to flirt with other girls but he still felt a strange attachment to her.

On the last night of the trip you see Marc in is room in cry.

Marc was lying on his bed, his face buried in a book because the idea of spending the last night of their holiday with his wife made his heart hurt. He had tried to make her happy but he felt like he was losing her.

Y/n walked into the room and he didn't hear her at first but he could hear the sound of her crying. The sound of her tears falling was almost unbearable and he set the book down in order to go and comfort her.

When he see you, you were in tears and you didn’t stop saying again and again « I m sorry I m sorry ! »

"Y/n, it's alright, what's happened? What is it?"

His tone was kind as he looked at her, his brows furrowed.

"Did someone do something, say something ?"

He sounded worried and was doing his best to comfort her but it was hard to tell if it worked as she kept crying and apologizing.

« I-I cheat on you ! » more cry « I’m so so so sorryyy »

Y/n’s words stung like a slap to the face, Marc's heart broke and he stepped forward and pulled her into a hug. She was crying against him and he tried to comfort her but he didn't know what to say and so instead he just clung to her, his face hidden in her hair as he held her.

He couldn't believe she had done this but at least she was honest. His thoughts were a mix of emotions as he stayed with her until she had calmed a bit and finally pulled away. His voice was quiet as he spoke.

« Say something please » you plead in is arms.

He just hugged her tightly, wanting to say something but not knowing if there was anything good to say. Y/n had just told him she cheated on him, what could he possibly say to that?

He didn't want to lose her but he felt so betrayed, he couldn't process it in that moment and so he turned his face away, not wanting her to see him crying too. The silence was heavy and thick in the room and Marc's heart weighed so heavily.

« I see… »

His voice was sad and defeated. He slowly let his arms fall and then walked to the bed, sitting down as he took a deep breath. So this was her choice, why did she do it? What had happened between them for her to have done something like this? He rubbed his hands slowly through his hair for a moment and spoke, his tone still soft but filled with emotion.*

"Y/n, do you love me anymore? If you don't why did you get married? Why are you here with me right now?"

« It-it just happen I don’t know you weren’t there and…he-he was there »

His expression turned hard as he heard Y/n’s words. How could her excuse be "he was there"? Y/n was married to Marc and he had been by her side this entire trip, she could have said no.

"Y/n I deserve a better excuse than that! I did my best, I came with you for our honeymoon and still you cheated? Why?"

Marc's tone grew harsh and he stood up, pacing the room.

« You told me that you could come because of you work ! »

"Y/n, come on..." Marc turned towards her.

"You know what I meant. I can't just leave work, you know that, and I came with you as soon as I could. Don't lie to yourself, you wanted this, you wanted to have that man's attention and you knew exactly what you were doing. You had your fun and you got caught."

He looked at her with hurt in his eyes.

"Do you love him more than me?"

« I-i no » lie.

Marc didn't believe her, he just looked away with a heavy sigh and rubbed his eyes.

"God Y/n, you have no idea how much this hurts..."

He looked at her with pain in his eyes.

« Why? »

He sat back down on the bed, he just wanted to know why she had done this.

« I love you really ! »

"You love me, yet you let another man touch you, kiss you and sleep with you and then come to me and confess all of this? What am I supposed to think?"

His voice grew harsh and frustrated.

"You said I was the man you wanted to spend your life with so why? Why throw it all away?"

« I dont know » more cry.

He looked at her with a mix of sadness and hurt and anger. He felt like she had cheated him, that she had betrayed their marriage and yet part of him couldn't believe it and yet she had admitted it.

"Y/n, I don't know what to say to this. Did you really cheat on me, was all that time you spent with him meant he meant more to you than I do? Did you even care that you were hurting me?"

« I wasn’t thinking…I just… »

"What, so you have a one-night stand and you don't even think about the consequences of your actions? Don't tell me the moment you meet another handsome man you will leave me, because right now that's exactly what you sound like."

His tone filled with hurt and frustration.

"Y/n, I married you because I loved you, I loved our life together, our future together! Was that all a lie?"

« NO ! I-I don’t have a excuse »

"You just wanted to have fun then? You wanted to flirt with all the men so you could feel desirable? Y/n, you're beautiful, I told you every single day and yet it wasn't enough because you still wanted more? Or has it always just been about you?"

Marc's words became angrier and angrier and his voice raised as he felt his heart growing colder.

« You know, this whole holiday has been a waste of money because you cheated and you ruined it and you ruined us! »

You were crying like you never cry before.

*Y/n was crying and Marc felt terrible for hurting her but he knew the truth, her tears weren't for him and they didn't change a thing.

"Y/n, what about me? What about what you've done to me? Do you not care that you've destroyed me, this trip was supposed to be for us, to be together and yet you've done nothing except avoid me!"

He yelled his last words and stormed toward the bathroom in search of a towel. When he came back to the room he was calmer this time, but no less upset then before.

« Can you forgive me ? »

Marc studied Y/n for a moment. His mind was screaming at him that she didn't care but for some reason he still felt something for her.

"Forgive you? Y/n I..."

He took a deep breath in an attempt to control himself.

"I can't hate you, how can I hate you? I love you and deep down I still do, but God how could you do this to me?"

You hug him hard like if you were scared that he will go « I will never again I swear ! I love you too much…I-I don’t know what happen. I think he manipulate me »

"Hey, hey, hey..."

He softened a moment as he felt her clinging to him, her words sounded desperate and Marc couldn't hate her at all for that reason. He wanted things to be like they used to be and yet the only way to do that was to give her another chance.

"Y/n, I can give you a second chance, I can forgive you if you promise to never do it again."

He looked straight into her eyes.

« I swear »

But what marc did not know was that Y/n had recorded rydal number and was already planning to see him again.

#marc spector #marc spector x reader #moon knight x reader #rydal keener #rydal keener x reader

16 notes · View notes

whatthefishh · 10 months

Text

until we bleed

Rydal Keener x F!Reader ; part of the Oxford Comma series

Words: 6.4k

Warnings: swearing, an unnecessary amount of big words being used, smut, pinv, um... slight dub con... drama...

Beta read by the lovely @xbellaxcarolinax who basically jumped on the doc every time I helplessly texted her to ask if I was being stupid, and special s/o to @melodygatesauthor for helping me talk out the smut hehe

The charity gala was a front for the girls to get dressed up and the men to boast about their new business ventures. The charity mentioned in the invitation was picked out by the dean’s wife, a hedge fund manager – a most noble career – and she had already swindled enough out of the guests for the entrance fee before the scheduled auction later that evening.

You didn’t want to go but you couldn’t really tell Rydal that, especially after the whole thing with Chester just last week. He had been a little down since then, his skin halfway healed from where the skin had broken. You couldn’t help but feel a current of electricity pass through you straight to your core whenever you looked at the slightly swollen pout he was sporting because of it. And the bastard knew it, too. He had been using the pout, with the added weight of his baby cow eyes, to get his way for the past few days, easily swaying you into submission for the littlest things.

Which is how you ended up at the pretentious gathering being thrown in some philanthropic attempt to absolve the attendees of their greed. The dress you got for this event specifically was more expensive than any you’d ever worn before, the black satin silk of it tickling your calves where it hit. Your heels were new and not broken in, the thin straps sitting across your fresh pedicure — also something he insisted on paying for, picking out your nail colour for you. A glossy soft pink, a shade that reminded you of the Chanel perfume he had gifted you with.

Rydal had taken you out to buy an outfit when you tried to tell him you couldn’t go with him to the gala because you had nothing to wear, rolling his eyes at what he knew was you trying to weasel your way out of it. You felt bad, making him wait while you tried on every dress the saleslady threw at you. He kept telling you it was fine, eventually threatening to come in there and dress you himself if you didn’t cut it out and that he was comfortable lounging on the sofas outside the fitting rooms.

Slipping on the next dress from the large selection you had gathered in your fitting room, you checked yourself out in the mirror. Flatting the skirt with your palms, you tried to imagine yourself at the party, your arm looped around Rydal’s elbow and everyone’s eyes on you. Would this help you blend in? Was this the golden ticket you needed to finally gain acceptance? You’re starting to feel like it didn’t matter what you wore, they’d be able to sniff you out regardless, the vultures with their sharp manicures and syringe sculpted faces.

When you finally stepped out in the simple but flattering black dress, Rydal’s eyes flashed as you turned this way and that in the mirror, trying to see it from all angles. This could work, it was simple enough that you didn’t feel entirely unlike yourself but it was still a lot more extravagant than anything you owned.

You didn’t notice him slowly getting up like a predator stalking its prey, too focused on whether you liked the garment or not until his hands came to rest on your hips and his nose pressed itself against your neck. Only then did you take note of his half hard bulge pressing into your bum, your body temperature jumping at how quickly he was reacting to you all dressed up for him. You weren’t a lingerie girl, never had to be in your experiences but the way he was growing more and more feral by the second had you itching to buy the most delicate, laciest sets just to pull this behaviour from him on demand.

“D-Do you like it?” you hated the way your voice wavered when you spoke, the slight increase in pressure from his hot hands causing you to blush heavily.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Go take it off before I do it for you–”

“Yeah, on it,” you pushed his hands away, bolting towards the fitting room before he got any ideas and shaking your head at him.

He purchased the dress while you were changing back into your regular clothes, coming out to the sight of him holding the garment bag over his arm while dumbly ignoring the stares of the other girls in the store.

You weren’t used to feeling so aggressively desired so publicly but Rydal never made you feel like he wanted to hide how he felt about you. He would compliment you in front of his friends, in front of strangers, he would speak highly of you despite having told you something that would send your blood boiling seconds prior. It was reassuring, especially since you weren’t blind to the way girls would look at him, especially the ones in his social circles.

The dress would help you fit into the crowd a little better, the shoes only slightly uncomfortable so far but that wasn’t the part that bothered you. Before leaving for the night, you made sure to try your best with your hair and makeup to look effortless with the help of your roommate, Eleanor, who told you that Rydal was going to go crazy over your look. That didn’t make you feel any more comfortable, however, wearing clothes much too expensive, you began to wonder if he liked you better like this, if he wanted you to be more like them.

His reaction upon seeing you made your stomach swoop, the reverence in his eyes making you shyer than you’ve felt in a long time. You think maybe you should dress up like this more often, maybe he’d prefer you like this. Trying to shake those thoughts out of your head, the two of you make your way to the party being held on campus, looping your arm through his. Rydal was wearing a beige linen suit himself, the white dress shirt underneath had the first couple buttons open for a more relaxed look that you knew he only did to stick it to his dad.

You don’t know if you would have preferred to be invisible rather than be gawked at by the guests, but either way you were extremely uncomfortable and trying your best to mask it for the sake of your boyfriend. The party itself was unlike any other you’d attended, and why would you have? It wasn’t something you’d normally be invited to, especially with your financial struggles. It was kind of ironic, you being here now. At least you were dressed for the part.

Most of the guests were in casually lavish clothing themselves, almost everyone in the room exuded an air of superiority and arrogance you didn’t know how to handle. Walking by a group of older men dressed in various shades of browns and beiges, you overheard their heated discussion regarding the new instalment of fine art in the library’s entryway. There was a table full of what looked like raffle prizes to be won, along with a small brass raffle drum at the end. Near the end of the room stood a podium next to a sign with the charity of the night outlined in large, black lettering. For the good press, for the photos, you bitterly think. There was even a small group of classical instrument musicians playing classical renditions of modern day music.

In every cluster of guests, there was an undeniable condescending overtone, the haughtiness oozing from every direction and you didn’t know where a safe space was for your eyes to land so as not to be assaulted by a judgemental gaze. Rydal was walking with ease, his hand at the small of your back, the warmth from it burning your skin due to the backless nature of the dress but you were thankful for the touch as it kept you somewhat grounded, helping you not trip over your heels.

He walked you through the psychological battleground, gliding through the people who were most definitely whispering about his date for the evening, leading you to the food and drinks table. Exotic delicacies littered the banquet table, carefully prepared for consumption and small enough to grab several handfuls before feeling any sense of satiation. The rich were an interesting breed, despite their indulgence they loved making things tiny.

The purpose of the night was drowning in the show of snobbery, and you were so bitter inside at the show they put on for each other that you opted to stay quiet so as not to make Rydal uncomfortable. These were his peers, the people he grew up with, the old man in the corner, his godfather, the lady with the laughable plastic surgery was his favourite ‘aunt’ growing up, giving him the biggest presents at his birthdays. Countless familiar faces for him, all of them sneering at you.

The comforting touch of his hand leaves your back and you immediately turn to him in a near panic, the idea of being left alone in the sea of sharks making you stumble over your shoes. Upon seeing Rydal’s father right behind you, you opted to stay silent. This was not the first time you were meeting him, but it was the first time you were seeing him on school grounds after spending the summer at their family home.

“Rydal,” he nodded to you and greeted you by name, “Come, I need you to meet a couple of people from that firm I was telling you about. Quickly now.”

Lawrence Keener wasn’t the most terrifying person you’d ever met but he was definitely intimidating and he definitely was aware of it. The man had influence at the school, and honestly anywhere else he went. His handsome face and strong jaw demanded respect before his clothes did, his bespoke and cleanly pressed suit giving him a reason to tilt his chin just that smidge higher so he could look down at you with a single snobby brow raised. You could see where Rydal learned that expression from.

He was somewhat dismissive of your presence, which only served to piss you off further but you had to hold back from rolling your eyes since Rydal was looking at you with a plea in his eyes, asking if it was okay to leave you for a few minutes to go meet the senior partners his father was pushing him towards.

You nodded with a tight smile to him, trying to be supportive without showing how anxious you already were on the inside. Stepping into his world and pretending you were fine with it was proving to be more difficult than you initially thought.

Rydal leaves you with a relatively chaste kiss on the cheek, his father watching you two with blatant boredom before ushering him away with a hand on the back of his neck. After watching them turn a corner, you have to blink a few times before gathering your bearings and heading straight for the hors d'oeuvres, the miniature yet intricate selection taking your attention away from the prickly company. Devilled eggs, stuffed mushrooms with crispy onions on top, micro fig pies, melted brie and shortbread, roasted oysters with butter mignonette, caviar and creme tartlets and bowls and bowls of shrimp cocktail met your eyes. Reaching to try a pie, it almost made you laugh at how tiny it was in the palm of your hand.

Some time must have passed and you’d eaten several different kinds of mini appetisers, gulping down the mocktail a random floating waiter had offered you after watching you stuff your face while you observed others mingling and networking. Hearing Rydal’s voice over the soft music playing, your eyes start searching for him excitedly.

There’s a girl. Walking next to him, there is a very pretty girl. And they’re laughing. She’s touching his arm – familiar, they’re familiar – and he doesn’t brush it off, he’s smiling with her and for a moment you forget that you’re together.

They look… they look quite perfect together, to be honest. She’s taller than you, blonde hair perfectly coiffed with a classic cocktail dress in a shade of blue that matched her eyes, making her smile look all the more bright. The girl in question throws her head back in laughter at something Rydal says, and it must have been funny at the way she covers her mouth elegantly to hide her grin and–and you want to leave. Badly. He’s not flirting but he’s also not taking her hand off of his arm, and he’s still smiling at her.

They…fit. She looks like she belongs. Here, with him, on his arm, wherever she pleases really. Maybe she’s the girl his father wanted him to go for, the choice that made sense for him. The option that was easier. The kind of girl who crossed her ankles when she sat at the dinner table, the one who knew which one the soup spoon was. The girl with the right parents, the right upbringing. The one who didn’t need a room at their family home because she had her own next door. The one he didn’t have to take shopping to make her look the part at a charity gala.

The girl that wasn’t a charity case.

You should just leave now, and leave them to it. They would probably be engaged right after graduation. Rydal would get a job with the law firm his father was pressuring him about and she would be the host of their next charity event. Hell, maybe she’d even run for a council position. Talk about a power couple.

While your intrusive thoughts were spiralling, you get caught staring by Rydal, his eyes lighting up to see you and you can see the words forming on his lips as he’s about to call out for you, most likely to introduce you to the girl in question. Turning on your heel before he had the chance to get your name out, you walk with speed and purpose, hunting for the washroom to collect yourself. You know people are looking at you walking past them, you probably look a little out of it but you couldn’t care less right now, just focused on getting some air and maybe splashing some water on your face.

Ducking into the washroom with a sigh of relief – the door matched the wood tone of the walls, the little sign above labelled “Washroom” in tiny, cursive writing making it incredibly difficult to find – you manage to find an empty stall. Leaning your head back against the stall door, you close your eyes as you try to even your breathing. You have to manage the anxiety bubbling up in your chest and the influx of negative thoughts about Rydal, it’s not fair to you or him.

The washroom door swings open and shuts, a pocket of music from the main hall echoing for a few seconds before giving way to the animated chatter of the girls who just entered. Their giggles and whispers became more clear once they settled in front of the large mirror hanging above the marble sinks.

“I’m going to need a lot more champagne to withstand anymore of that woman’s inane chatter, like, we’re already helping so much,” one girl huffed.

Peeking your eyes through the tiny gap in the door, you catch a glimpse of the back of their heads.

“Yeah well at least your boyfriend hasn’t been ignoring you all night. All I said was that he was repeating his outfit and that people would notice!”

“Oh honey, don’t worry. Nobody is going to notice that with Rydal walking around with his charity case girlfriend. What the fuck does he see in her anyway?” Another girl said, carelessly loud.

Your ears perked up again, your heart dropping in your stomach. Now was not the best time for you to hear this, their conversation only confirming your shameful thoughts about your boyfriend.

“I always thought he was easy but to stoop so low? She’s basically the farmer’s daughter!”

The scandal in her voice almost made you laugh in disbelief from where you were hiding in the stall.

“I think he’s doing it just to get back at his father. Lawrence doesn’t even look at her.”

Well. That’s not… that’s not what you wanted to hear. Lawrence looked at you, right? He said hello perfectly politely, right? You’re frowning at the thought.

“Ha! That’s because he wanted Colette for him. My mom told me he’s secretly hoping Rydal wakes up one morning, ready to go running back to Barbie Blue Eyes and make them all proud parents,” the loud one from earlier said with a wicked tone.

Colette… you didn’t know a Colette. Blue eyes? Could they be speaking about The Girl from earlier? Were they right, were you just a phase for him?

“Oh my god El, you kill me! They are really blue, and that dress she’s wearing tonight looks so fucking good on her, I can’t deny her that. It’s like she got it custom made to match her eyes.”

Oh fuck. The Girl was Colette. Of fucking course.

And from the sounds of it, she was Rydal’s ex. No wonder he never mentioned her. No wonder she was so friendly with him, hands all over his arms, giggling together like a couple of young lovers. Compared to her, she was the obvious choice, and it wasn’t a surprise that Lawrence had given his approval.

“Sounds like Colette,” the third girl chimed in.

“I don’t care how much Rydal spends on this new girl, she isn’t fooling anybody. I bet she’ll be gone by the winter. Anyways,” the first girl sighs tiredly, as if unloading all that gossip took a physical toll on her. “How’s my lipstick, Vee?”

They descended into a different topic, focused on adjusting each other’s appearance until they left the washroom leaving you to stew in silence. They wouldn’t have known you were listening but they said everything you didn’t need to hear anyway.

So Rydal was dating this perfect girl, Colette, before you got together. You were the rebound. You were never permanent. You didn’t belong.

You should’ve known he wasn’t serious, it was too good to be true. You should never have opened up to him, never have trusted him with all your insecurities and vulnerabilities. He probably bought all the girls Chanel. He couldn’t have been serious about you. He hasn’t even met your mom, hasn’t visited your home yet. You couldn’t let him get any closer.

Stepping out and gently splashing your cheeks with some cold water, you walk out the doors on shaky knees and look around. Nobody is paying you any attention now and you exhale a breath of relief. These people are never going to respect you. No matter how many pretty clothes he buys you.

Rydal finds you before your eyes find him, his hand snaking around your waist and mouth finding your ear to whisper a sweet little I missed you, softly kissing your skin. You shiver, and despite the direction your thoughts were going you find comfort in his smell and warmth, closing your eyes while you turn your body into his.

He’s the same and yet he isn’t. Rydal slips into his social persona and you’ve never really paid attention before but there’s a slight difference to his voice and once you notice it, it bothers you. You stare at him, perplexed and hurt. You wonder if you know him properly at all. Which one is the real one? Is he pretending with you or with them?

Rydal tells you he has someone to introduce you to but your stomach starts churning and you think you’re gonna be sick because you see Colette making her way towards you in the crowd and you can’t face her, not after what you just heard.

“I feel kind of sick, actually, can we go? Like, now?”

You know you have a frantic edge to your voice but you can’t help it.

“Can we go in a bit? Just stick it out for a little longer, baby—“

There’s a bubble of anxiety in your chest that rises to your throat the closer she gets and you look to Rydal with pure panic, upset that he’d even suggest you stay in this stifling room for any longer. He stops talking upon noticing the tears welling in your eyes, brows immediately furrowing in concern and then nodding quickly.

“Okay, yeah. Yeah, we can go, c’mon.”

His hand returns to the small of your back, guiding you out of the hall and you’re glad for it because all of a sudden your vision is blurry and if it weren’t for his persistent hands helping you, you would’ve surely never found your way out.

The way back to his room was tense. Not the comfortable silence you were used to, your throat closed and sealed shut since leaving. Your mouth has opened and shut several times, wanting to break the silence but your tongue felt like lead.

Rydal doesn’t make any attempt at conversation either. After putting his blazer jacket around your shoulders, he stuck his hands in his pocket and frowned the whole walk back.

By the time he let you in his room, your bottom lip was wobbling and your anxiety was suffocating you in its attempt for release. Either you were going to cry or yell or both.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you reach for the makeup wipes you keep with his things, aggressively wiping at your eyes and fighting with the layers of mascara you had put on. He slowly comes up behind you, not looking into your eyes but his hands reach to unclasp your necklace, brushing your hair aside for ease of access.

You inhale a shuddering breath.

You should just do it now. Just come right out and say it. You may as well cut your losses and let him be happy with whoever he wants, let him make his father happy and stop standing in his way. You were only holding him back, and that’s not what you wanted to do. You still loved him, even if tonight did break your heart.

Dropping the necklace on the counter, he reaches for the zipper of your dress next but his hands still and instead rest on your waist as he presses his forehead into your shoulder.

“Did something happen? Did someone… say something?” He mumbled, the vibrations of his voice almost triggering your tears. Instead you let out a sniffle.

“She really is beautiful. Why didn’t you tell me about her?”

“Who?”

“Why did I have to find out about her from a bunch of girls in the washroom? Does she go here? Is that why your dad doesn’t look me in the eye when he talks to me?”

“…it’s not like that—“ he sighs.

“No? It’s not like you become someone else when we’re around these people? It’s not like you have this whole goddamn life that I’m not part of, that I’ll never be part of because they’re never going to accept me? They’re never going to respect me, never think I’m good enough?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, I don’t even know what you heard!”

“Everyone thinks I’m with you just for your money, you know. They called me the farmer's daughter. They said I’m your fucking charity case. Do you know how that makes me feel? As if I don’t already feel like an outsider here?”

He opens his mouth to respond but you don't let him, rushing to hurt him the way you’re hurting inside.

“You’ve never had to work a day in your life, you don’t know what it’s like in my shoes.” You laugh humorlessly. “What are we doing, Rydal?”

“What do you mean?” His voice sounds so small and the knife just twists deeper in your gut.

“Why should I have to deal with this constant bullshit from the people in your life? I don’t even know them! Maybe… maybe we should—“

“Stop, stop, listen I can handle everyone else being upset with me, but not you. Not you, please. I can’t take it from you, please don’t say what I think you’re going—“

“I don’t know. I just can’t, I— maybe, maybe we should break up, I think you’d feel better, too, I think—“

“How could you think that? How could you say that?” He’s upset, expression sour and twisted.

He looks the way you feel.

You watch him fumble for words.

“I literally left my dad at this stupid party and he’s going to be fucking pissed, like seriously livid because he was building me up to his buddies but– but I don’t care because I wanted to make sure you were okay!”

His palms grip your waist tighter and he steps closer, crowding you against the basin and doesn’t give you any room to move. You can’t look at him so instead you stare at the makeup wipe, the angry black marks mirroring your heart as your mind yells at you to run, to leave and hide where he can’t hurt you, where he can’t see you crumble and break after he inevitably agrees to leave you.

You push it once more.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe I should’ve just left you there.”

There’s a small part of your brain that tells you that you’re being irrational. That he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t care, he must care even a tiny amount, even if you were a temporary toy.

His hands leave you for a second and he takes a step away. You feel cold, immediately feeling small and stupid, fighting between wanting to cry and going numb until suddenly the familiar warmth comes back, his hand pushing your back with so much force that your hands shoot out in front of you to catch yourself. One on the mirror, one on around the edge of the vanity.

Looking up at Rydal in shock, you open your mouth to ask him what the fuck his problem is until you see he’s not even looking at you, his eyes are trained on your ass and he’s biting his lip, but he still looks… broken.

“Rydal, what the fu—“

“Stop. Talking. You’ve said enough.” His voice was almost a whisper but still firm enough to cut through yours, and his hands were still kneading your hips.

His behaviour is new and kind of confusing, if you’re being honest. It’s clear he’s never been denied before in his life. He looks helpless and angry and worried and aggravated and entirely too focused on your body at this moment for any of it to make sense.

Rydal’s fingers trail down your dress until they reach the slit in the back and leave goosebumps as they make their way back up, hooking into your panties and then tugging them off and around your heels. Upon rising, he’s still avoiding eye contact. Your cheeks are burning, legs slightly wider than before. Despite being mad at him, your body still obeys.

“So mouthy all the time.”

Balling up your panties, he surprises you further by shoving them in your mouth even as you protest and try to push back on him but his body keeps your balance wavering. You have no choice but to keep your hands where they were if you didn’t want to fall.

Your eyes must be bugging out of your sockets and the rise and fall of your chest is coming quicker and quicker.

“If that’s what you really want, then leave.” He’s saying this while the tips of his thick fingers brush and tease your entrance, keeping you frozen in place.

Your mind was at odds with your body as you felt your instinctive reaction to him touching you. Fighting the urge to embrace the desire now dripping down your thighs, you knew you had the ability to walk away if you wanted to and yet you found yourself pressing back against his hand wanting more.

“Aren’t you gonna leave? Isn’t that what you wanted? No?”

Rydal slides two fingers inside your cunt, easily and without warning and you grunt but it’s muffled against the cloth. This is absurd, you think dumbly. You want to feel embarrassed but you can’t bring yourself to.

“Didn’t think so, baby,” he’s saying while stepping closer and his fingers reach even deeper, if that were possible.

His mouth comes up to your ear, whispering his next words and sending them straight to your gut, weighing heavily inside you.

“I need you, can’t you see that? Look at me,” his hot breath hits the shell of your ear and you’re panting. “Can’t you tell? How fucking badly I need you?”

So you look at him, and you see a desperate and needy man in the place of your Rydal, the one you’re familiar with. This wasn’t the same man you were used to, the one who would make you laugh while he was making his way inside you. This Rydal was upset and he was adamant on making you regret your words.

His fingers were curling inside your wet heat, pressing up against that spot that made you see stars and stealing your breath so hard your fingers were curling. Your fingerprints were marking the mirror, the squeaking sound making you shudder against his body. Moaning around the fabric still in your mouth, you tried to grind down on his hand, desperate for him to move, to do something, anything to the tension in your body coiling tighter and tighter.

Rydal could feel your hips moving back against his hand and moved to still you, fingers holding you tight enough to bruise. Slipping his fingers out, he taps them against your clit before removing his hand entirely and making your shoulders sag at the loss.

Reaching one hand up and back to keep him close, afraid of his warmth leaving you, your hand wraps around his neck as he rushes to unbuckle his pants noisily. He’s shaking a little, breaths coming out ragged at how badly he needs to fill you up.

Once he frees himself, Rydal uses one hand to push you back down and bunch your pretty dress up, lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in swiftly without hesitation.

He groans loudly, tilting his head back with his eyes shut for a moment before looking down at where he’s seated to the hilt inside you, unmoving.

“You lookin’? You need me, too, I can see it in your eyes. Look,” he reaches forward to grab at your jaw, making you watch yourself as he slowly pulls his cock out and slams it back inside to kiss your cervix. Again, and again, and again. “See that?”

Rydal forces your head to nod with his hand still holding your face while you try to speak, voice coming out unclear against the panties still in your mouth. The stupid fucking fabric was making it hard to breathe and you were going to pass out, drunk on his cock, you were going to faint against the god damn builder’s grade medicine cabinet. You want to moan out loud, you want to tell him he wasn’t playing fair, that he was going too slow. You want to pull his beautiful hair out and yell at him, you want him to hurry up and fuck you harder, you—

You’re coming.

“Ohhh, fuuuuck,” he let go of your face, hands dropping to press on your lower back and push you more forward, your hands clambering on the mirror like a fool. “Look so—so, oh fuck, baby, look at you.”

It didn’t take him long at all to make a mess of you.

“You gonna take it back? Take back what you said, tell me you were wrong,” he whines, still fucking you hard but not hard enough.

The problem was that he was dragging his girth out slowly but stealing your breath on every hard thrust forward. And it still wasn’t enough, not for this, not for right now.

Your attempt at speaking is ruined by the fact that your panties were still in your mouth, your saliva soaking the material by this point. You wanted to spit it out, hurl the obstructive garment across the room but it wasn’t possible in your current position. He can’t possibly be stupid enough to expect you to answer him like this.

He almost laughs when he realises you’re trying to say something, quickly pulling the fabric from your mouth to let you finally have your voice back and you immediately let out a cry at his perfectly timed thrust. His cock was moving faster, intent on not having you speak but making you come again. Now that he could hear you, he was becoming more and more unhinged.

Embarrassingly, you’re having a hard time keeping your voice down, whines and cries falling from your lips continuously while Rydal fucked you against his sink. Your hands are leaving fingerprints all over his mirror from where you’re trying to get a grip and push yourself back on him, his own hands keeping you bent over for him but squeezing whatever flesh he could reach.

Leaning forward to kiss your back, he mumbles words he thinks you don’t hear, don’t leave me, mine, my baby, stay here—

“S’wrong, I-I was wrong,” you whimper. “M’sorry, fuck—“

“Shhh—“

“I—“ you hiccup. “I hate them, I, yesss right there, god—“

“I know, baby, I know, I got you,” he’s back to grunting in your ear and you can’t see or feel anything that isn’t Rydal.

You’re overwhelmed by everything that’s happened tonight, your feelings from earlier still bubbling up and causing you to tear up while he continues to ram into you. He sees you crying, reaching his hand in front of you to toy with your clit.

“Stay with me,” he demands, voice low against the shell of your ear. Desperate, he’s still so fucking needy even after making you cry on his cock.

You nod before you realise you’re nodding, sniffling in your daze.

Rydal’s index finger, the same one he teased you with earlier, starts circling your clit in the surefire way he knows how to make you cum, grunting when he feels your walls fluttering over his length.

And when you’re gushing all over him, his finger still circles your nub but he stills his hips as he feels you come undone and talks you through it. Pretty baby, love you so fucking much, stay, stay with me, stay—

Lifting you off his length he takes off your dress completely and turns you around with his hand wrapped around your neck to bring his mouth to yours, kissing you like a man possessed. He doesn’t wait to slip his tongue into your mouth, claiming it as his own to prove a point. He’s always fucking proving a point, always pushing his way through your walls.

Walking you backwards towards his bed, he only breaks away from your mouth to help you remove his shirt and pants, your hands mapping out his chest and shoulders. You don’t let him get far from you even as you lower yourself to lay back on the mattress, pulling his body along needily while he crawls over you.

This time when he enters you, it’s slower, softer, gentle, but you’re shaking in his arms, foreheads touching as you share a breath and syrupy kisses. You cry a little, mascara messy and lipstick smudged, but he shushes you, mocking you, “thought you could leave me,” he says and anticipating your rebuttal — as he does, he always fucking does — he says, “thought you could go on without my cock, hmm?”

And then he’s kissing you again before you can say anything, effectively shutting you up while pressing you into the mattress, fucking the fight out of you as his hips slide into yours again and again. Your bodies are sweat ridden, your pussy is soaking his sheets and he still hasn’t cum yet, but you think he’s close. He has to be, he’s barely pulling out now, his length throbbing inside your pulsing walls as he ruts into you.

He’s biting your shoulder and your eyes are focused on the popcorn ceiling, your oversensitive core trembling as he tries to pull another orgasm from you. You’re probably crying, it’s hard to tell at this point, face and body damp, but your ears are attuned to his sounds, his gorgeous whimpers and grunts. Rydal’s body is heavy on yours but you’re floating, you don’t feel a thing until his thumb starts pressing hard against your clit that you try to curl in on yourself, thrashing against him and– yeah, you’re crying.

He’s speaking absolute filth, it doesn’t make any sense, but in the midst of your pleasure you hear him saying he’s going to fill you up.

He does. It’s so wet between your legs, the glide of his half aborted thrusts smacking lewdly and loudly and you feel like an exposed nerve and numb all at once. His spend is leaking out of you and just when you expect him to pull out and play with your puffy folds, he turns on his side, keeping you full of him. Rydal rests his face against your chest, your sweaty and spent bodies tangled together. Boneless and breathless.

His arms are everywhere, one running down the length of your thigh soothingly and the other wrapped under your torso to pull you close by your waist. Touching, always touching. That’s been one constant you’ve noticed from the start. Your breaths are echoing loudly and you’re almost afraid to speak, afraid to ruin the tranquil silence that envelops you both.

You open your eyes to find him already watching you.

“I’m hopeless without you,” he says, so so softly. “I’ll let you win at monopoly every time, I’ll stop ruining the ending of the books you’re reading, fuck, just tell me what I have to do. Tell me, I’ll do it.”

You just hold him tighter to you, kissing his temple.

#rydal keener fanfiction #rydal keener x you #rydal keener x reader #rydal keener smut #rydal keener #the two faces of january fanfiction #the two faces of january #yes this about rydal keener #oxford comma fic #oscar issac characters #oscar isaac fanfiction

212 notes · View notes