#rydal keener smut | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whatthefishh · 1 year

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Rydal Keener x f!Reader

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

Words: 7k+

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

Series Masterlist

———-

It all starts during homecoming.

Well, sort of.

That’s when you met him.

\\\

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

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

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

“It wasn’t a bribe–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

\\\

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What. The. Fuck.

“What the fuck?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now you were going to scream.

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

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

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

A thought occurred to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sitting on my bed."

"Just give me the photocopies, Rydal."

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

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

"How much?"

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

"For you? Nothing, for now.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

Really.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

Twenty minutes later you’re knocking on his door.

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

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

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

“You still owe me a favour, y’know.”

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

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

“Doesn’t count. I didn’t finish.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um–” you began.

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

You choked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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spicyllewyn · 7 months

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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

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oscarisaacsspit · 1 year

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the cuntery of it all

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jakelcckley · 2 years

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It does make them 10000x hotter. Damn.

(gifs are not mine, post is inspired from this tiktok)

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thiswaytwoinfinity · 6 months

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Emma's Epic Multi-Fandom Rec List: Oscar Isaac Edition

Work and life and everything took over for a little bit, but I am back with *part 2* of my massive fanfic recommendation list, because good lord I read so much fanfic I have a problem.

I do my best to reblog as much as possible but sometimes I miss it so this is my attempt to make up for that and give all of the amazing creators on here the credit they deserve. Thank you all so much for sharing all of your work with us. This year has been a long and difficult one for me, especially mental health wise, and being able to escape into these stories has been so valuable and important to me.

If you read anything on here that you like, please reblog and/or comment on these pics to show the creators some love!

AN IMPORTANT NOTE: While not everything listed here will include smut, many of these authors have 18+ blogs. Please, please, please respect their boundaries and DO NOT INTERACT WITH THEM/THEIR CONTENT IF YOU ARE A MINOR.

Stories marked with ❤️‍🔥 contain NSFW content

Moon Knight:

The Best Kept Secrets ❤️‍🔥by @melodygatesauthor — First of all, Mel is the *queen* of Oscar Isaac-fandom fic, especially anything about our beloved Moon Boys. She’s got stuff for every genre, every mood, every random plot bunny — she’s also created some of the most fun and original character.ai bots — but I have such a soft spot for this fic, a dad’s best friend fic where each chapter is a different member of the system.

A Bit Dodgy ❤️‍🔥by @melodygatesauthor — another brilliant one from Melody, featuring professor! Steven falling in love with a student, Jake being protective (and hot) and Marc learning to let down his walls around people. I will genuinely be a little sad when it’s all wrapped up because I’ve loved this journey.

Cherry Pie ❤️‍🔥by @whatthefishh and @melodygatesauthor — I’m trying not to just rec people’s entire masterlists but these two make it SO DIFFICULT. Anyway, as someone with a soft spot for Steven (is it obvious yet?) this is a particularly steamy and surprisingly sweet fic about his first time. It’s written in such a brilliant way that you can just picture all of the desperate, delicious faces that Steven is making throughout and it’s just … it’s a 10/10 y’all.

Spoiled Rotten by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction — MARC. MARC MY BEAUTIFUL, EMOTIONALLY GUARDED BELOVED I love when Marc gets to be soft and this was such a beautifully written, real-feeling story about his relationship insecurities and his desire to be treated like the precious gift he is. If the universe could just give me one chance to spoil this beautiful man …

Personal Time ❤️‍🔥by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction — Look, we have already established my love for Steven Grant. I want to hug him and kiss him and let him tell me about Egyptian gods and eat vegan burritos with him and cuddle him all night. But this story? This story makes me also want to ruin him.

The Moon Boys + Where They Like to Put It ❤️‍🔥by @ivystoryweaver — These little blurbs are pure filth and I would like them tattooed on my eyelids so that I can forever be haunted by them. There is a surprising amount of characterization packed into such a short package and that takes an incredible amount of talent.

On My Knees ❤️‍🔥by @ivystoryweaver — Look. If Steven Grant came to me, begging on his knees (literally!) for his job back, I too would fold immediately. This two-parter is also great because the first story is pure fluff (and pining for Steven, which, i can relate) and the second brings all of the tension and anticipation to a head with some genuinely smoking hot smut. I’d also like to give a shoutout to Ivy’s Oblivious Roommate Headcanons Series, which is honestly making my obsession with everyone’s favorite gift shoppist a little worse in the best way.

driver!jake and rich girl!reader ❤️‍🔥by @campingwiththecharmings — THIS FIC. I love the slow building tension, the gorgeous image of Jake smoking outside his limo during a night out, the SMUT. It made my brain melt in the best way, possible.

Lessons in Touch by @marc-spectorr— Ugh, the PINING. There’s only one part to this so far and I am already so obsessed with it that I’m recommending it. I cannot wait to see where this one goes because I just am already so in love with this Steven and their relationship.

With The Lights Out ❤️‍🔥by @moonknightly — Jake is, understandably, often characterized as the sexy, seductive one in the system so it’s such a treat to read a virgin!Jake fic. This one is so lovely, a perfect mix of vulnerable and steamy while still feeling so true to him. Basically, I love when Jake gets flustered and I need more of it.

Friendly favors ❤️‍🔥by @runa-falls — (Not so) unrequited pining between Steven and his best friend and the ways they begin to reveal their feelings for one another by … “helping each other out” with their “needs.” Steamy and sweet in equal measure and it just makes me want to scream in the best possible way.

Making Trouble ❤️‍🔥by @juneknight — Possessive!Marc owns me, completely. This and its sequel (where Jake gets his revenge) are two of the hottest, most wonderful smut fics that I have read in this fandom and good lord, it breaks my brain every single time I read it. juneknight is also the creator of the mind-meltingly sexy Dorm Room Marc series which is also *chef’s kiss*

Miguel O’Hara (Spider-Verse)

Halo ❤️‍🔥by @missdictatorme — One of the most interesting Miguel concepts I’ve ever read: Reader is Miguel’s new AI assistant (complete with hologram body) and you ask for the chance to design your own appearance. The slow build of the relationship between the pair is so fun to read and the tension between them as Miguel realizes that their relationship with one another is … unorthodox is amazing. I think about this story all the time.

Something New ❤️‍🔥by @runa-falls — Hoooooo boy. I recommend you read this one in front of a fan or the AC because good lord this is hot.

Decadent ❤️‍🔥by @ivystoryweaver — This one has it all: gorgeously steamy smut, the tension of a slow-burn relationship build, a hint of angst and a mystery at the center of it all: is Miguel a vampire? Or something else? Can he be cured? It’s so good and I honestly give a little squeal every time I see there’s a new chapter out.

Punch-Out Love by @astroboots— Miguel O’Hara boxing AU? Hell yeah. This one is exciting and tense and thrilling and I was invested from the first sentence. Cici also co-wrote the iconic Every You, Every Me, which I am ashamed to say that I only just started reading but it is just as incredible as everyone said. Her stuff more than lives up to all of the hype.

Monster ❤️‍🔥by @writefightandflightclub — Oh, you thought you’d make it through a Miguel O’Hara rec list without some size kink? This is insanely hot and a little dark and so, so good. Heed the warnings, but if this is your thing, trust me, it will sit in your brain forever.

Assorted Oscar Characters

Bloom For Me (Santiago Garcia) ❤️‍🔥by @whatthefishh — The Triple Frontier Regency AU that you didn’t know you needed. Trust me on this.

Oxford Comma (Rydal Keener) ❤️‍🔥by @whatthefishh — *The* definitive Rydal fic, in my opinion. There is something about the way that Mona writes Rydal that makes him so irresistible, so charming and easy to fall for despite how much you want to resist (or maybe punch) him that I think captures the essence of the character so well.

How (Nathan Bateman) ❤️‍🔥by @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction — Set post-Ex Machina, this lovely (and steamy) fic delves into how Nathan deals with the aftermath of the situation with Ava as well as him learning to let another person (not an android!) into his life. It’s my favorite take on a softer version of Nathan and I just adore it. (Also for more amazing Oscar-character content, Fen’s Kinktober masterlist is *chef’s kiss)

Three Years (Nathan Bateman) ❤️‍🔥by @youvebeenlivingfictional — My favorite Nathan fic, ever. The tension between him and the reader, the underlying questions about whether their whole relationship and dynamic is the result of genuine feelings on his end or just him manipulating people, the added angst of Reader’s dynamic with their friend and *her* crush on Nathan — it’s just so good.

Somebody to Love (Richard Alonzo Munoz) ❤️‍🔥by @writefightandflightclub — Not just one of my all-time favorite Oscar Isaac fics, but one of my all-time favorite fics period. As I have previously gushed, this is a gorgeous, romantic, slow-build of a story written with such stunning imagery and poetry and with little nods to an already-familiar relationship that just makes their ultimate relationship even more swoon-worthy and perfect. And the smut is 10/10, five stars, completely mind-melting in all of the best ways. I love it, I love it, I love it.

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spacecowboyhotch · 2 years

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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 *)

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mischievoushiddleston · 1 year

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Open my Request!

I open my request for today and hope to get some naughty requests. The more indecent, the better😉 My character, for which I write you can find below, but also pay attention to my rules. I am writing on a real book, however I need variety from time to time to stay creative.

Actors and character I write about: Tom Hiddleston [Thomas Sharpe (Crimson Peak), Jonathan Pine (The Night Manager), James Conrad (Kong: Skull Island), Thomas Hiddleston Jaguar British Villians, Will Ransome (The Essex Serpent) and of course Loki (Marvel)]

Oscar Isaac [Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley (Moon Knight), Leto Atreides (Dune), Peter Malkin (Operation Finale), Santiago Garcia (Triple Frontier), Mikael Boghosian (The Promise), Rydal Keener (Two Faces of January), Abel Morales (A Most Violent Year)]

Sebastian Stan [Bucky Barnes (Marvel), Nick Fowler (The 355)]

Richard Madden [David Budd (Bodyguard), Mason Kane (Citadel), Ikaris (Marvel)]

Tenoch Huerta [Namor (Black Panther: Wakanda Forever) + Namuri]

Shah Rukh Khan [Just ask which character I am writing for]

Hrithik Roshan [Just ask which character I am writing for]

John Abraham [Jim (Pathaan)]

New are: Mason Kane (Citadel), Tenoch Huerta, SRK, Hritik Roshan and John Abraham

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romanarose · 8 months

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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!!

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im-his-druidess · 2 years

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Okay...so apparently a single gif has got me hot and bothered swooning over a new Oscar Isaac character 😩

And it's THIS CHARACTER RIGHT HERE 😤

When I tell you my imagination went WILD when I saw this 🥴 (and yes I then spent hours reading smut about him don't judge me)

ALSO why

Pretty?? 😤

Basically his character (Rydal Keener) plays an American con artist who is also a tour guide in Greece who scams the tourist and then preceeds to try and steal the main character's wife during the whole movie.

So, yeah, I'm in love now 😍

#why am i like this #hello papi 😍#what i'd let that man do to me #oscar isaac is a menace and i'm suffering #Rydal Keener #Two Faces of January #Oscar Isaac #the cryptid posts

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eyelessfaces · 7 months

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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

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whatthefishh · 10 months

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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.

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