#rydal keener x f!reader

[spacecowboyhotch]

pov: rydal keener is your tour guide at the local art museum (fic coming soon)

#v excited to post the fic when it’s finished!!! #rydal keener #rydal keener moodboard #rydal keener x f!reader #the two faces of january #arson moodboard

[whatthefishh]

body talk

Rydal Keener x f!reader

Part of the Oxford Comma series

Warnings: dirty talk, p in v, creampie, literally just smut really idk MDNI

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: @xbellaxcarolinax ty for being an absolute doll and reading this over for me bb, appreciate the hell out of you ❤️

It all started when you laughed at his compliment. 

Well, sort of.

—

It had been building for a couple of weeks, his lingering hands squeezing the soft parts of you longer and longer; his bottomless eyes watching you unabashedly. Your heart beat faster at the thought of it, but slowly you were getting used to it.

Then came his words.

“You look good like that,” he’d say while you were wiping your lip free from pasta sauce. 

“Eating… messily?” 

Then he’d laugh and call you adorable and change the subject. 

The next time Rydal left you feeling lost for words was when you started wearing the perfume he had gifted you. You weren’t surprised that he liked the way you smelt while wearing it, no, what surprised you was the way he’d immediately begin mouthing at your neck regardless of where you were. 

And when you told him to settle down and wait until you got back to his room?

“If you could see the way you’re looking at me, smelling like you do, you’d also want to fuck your brains out in the common room.” 

After that, he had taken to sprinkling kind words to you whenever he was near, words about how you looked that day, how your hair tied back drove him crazy, how the way you smiled at him made him lose his train of thought and miss the last ten minutes of the lecture, how you look too good in his clothes after he’d already fucked you senseless in his dorm, having picked up the closest sweatshirt from the floor. 

It was something you were trying to get used to, and some of it you were able to laugh off easily. He was supposed to say nice things, right? 

“Fuck, you look so beautiful right now,” Rydal said while sliding his hard cock along the outside of your wet folds, the tip of it grazing your clit teasingly. You could only whimper in response, insides melting at both his words and his actions.

How he could say these things to you while you were minutes away from crying and begging him to just stuff you full of him made no sense to you. Pupils blown wide and lips swollen and bruised, you were a downright mess.

So you ignored it.

“You don’t think so? Are you saying I have bad taste?” He began to push himself inside slowly, leaning forward to breathe in your personal space and press himself impossibly closer. “Huh?” 

Rydal was fully seated inside, nibbling at the dip in your shoulder. He rubbed his nose along your cheek, eyes not quite closed while watching your eyelids flutter at the intrusion. It might have been crude, but you could swear that he belonged inside you, tucked into the heat between your legs as close as he could get. 

This was your favourite place for him to be. 

“What, no, I-I can’t think—“

“You’re so cute when you’re cockdumb, c’mon tell me I’m right.” 

He didn’t wait for your response and pulled out only to swiftly thrust his hips again and again. Your eyes had shut and you were moaning lowly, desperate to focus on how he felt, not whatever argument he was trying to reference at the moment. 

“Not gonna tell me? You’re so fucking difficult,” he mumbled, picking up speed as he continued to pump his length into you, your hips pressed into the mattress.

The noises your bodies were making was obscene, sweet slick dripping out from your cunt while he didn’t let up, his pace never faltering. Rydal lifted one of your legs up higher to sit around his ass, hand wrapped around your thigh and pressing, opening you up wider. 

Your moans increased in volume, eyes still scrunched shut while he began thrusting into your pussy harder, the bed creaking with the force of his hips. Your walls were squeezing around him, desperate to keep him inside as he continued to fuck you open, mould you to his liking.

“You don’t agree?” He was huffing in your face. You shook your head so as to tell him to shut up, to drop it, this wasn’t the fucking time. “Why’s it always a fight when I’m trying to be nice to you?” 

The way you tried and failed to tell him to shut the fuck up and make you cum was embarrassingly obvious, your lips forming the first syllables before gasping on a particularly hard and well timed thrust. 

One hand crept up to tweak at your bare nipple, softly pinching the flesh until you cried out for him. Crying out on his cock while he bullied you seemed to be shaping up to be a pattern for the two of you. 

“Ry, please,” you gasped. It felt like he was in your goddamn lungs with the he was filling you up, pressing in and against you, stealing your very breath. 

Clutching his arms and digging your nails into his shoulder, you opened your eyes to plead with him. 

Your pussy fluttered when he laughed, a worry starting to build a furrow between your brows the same way the pleasure was rising in your belly. Was he going to continue this afterwards, too? Was this going to turn into something bigger or was he just, for lack of a better word, fucking with you? 

“I’m begging here, too, baby,” he said while lifting his body off your chest, rising to his knees to hit your cervix from a different angle. 

“I’m begging you to see yourself the way I do. Like right now, for example, so fuckin’ pretty. And when I do this?” He moved to press his palm into your hip, holding you down and resting his thumb on your clit. He didn’t touch it the way he knew you wanted him to, pulling a whine from the back of your throat. “Mmm, absolutely gorgeous.” 

“Shhhh—“

Was all you could manage until he leaned in swiftly and bit you above your breast, suckling the skin causing you to wail.

“Tsk, tsk, pretty girl. I’m not going to let you cum until you agree with me.” 

Lifting himself off you again, Rydal slowed his thrusts down to be able to drag his thick cock out with the sick intent of seeing you flinch before he slammed it back inside. You felt the pressure subsiding, almost slipping stealthily away and whined desperately at him. 

“Fuck! What do you want from me?!” You spit at him, fingers tense around his sheets.

“Say it, say you look the prettiest with my cock inside you,” he tried smiling but abruptly groaned when your walls clenched around him from his words. “F-fuck, honey, don’t do this just fucking say it—”

“Ahh, I-I look, ohh,” you moaned louder.

Rydal was thrusting the slightest bit faster, brows raised in a hopeful look and eyes trained on your face.

“Uh huh, I’ve got you, keep going,” he murmured. 

“I look p-prettiest with your co-ooock inside me,” you yelled, voice breaking on a moan. 

He groaned deeply, hips speeding up and snapping into yours. 

“Good, s-so good, fuck, all for me,” he planted his hands on the bed for momentum while he continued to plow your leaking pussy. “Gonna cum for me? Go on, cum for me like a good girl, did so good, baby.”

He wasn’t letting up and the rapid build up of his thrusts timed with his syrupy sweet voice and kind words catapulted you to the edge again quickly. Whining uncontrollably while he continued to talk you through it, you shouted into the room as you gushed around his thickness. 

Chest heaving over your fresh pleasure, the aftershocks were still coursing through your body meanwhile Rydal kept fucking you through it. His hair fell into his eyes as he stared at where you were joined, watching the white ring around his dick as it plunged into you before everything tightened. On his last thrust, he stilled as he shot his load inside you, groaning with his eyes closed. 

You scoffed watching him. He was utterly gorgeous. 

“Do you believe me now?” 

“You’re a dick, you know that?” 

#rydal keener #rydal keener smut #rydal keener fanfiction #yes this is about rydal keener #the two faces of january #the two faces of january fanfiction #rydal keener x reader #rydal keener x f!reader #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac characters #oxford comma series

[campingwiththecharmings]

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

🔥 - explicit/mature content

Star Wars

Sunk (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @reallyrallyauthor

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Moon Knight

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

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

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

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

Ex Machina

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

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

Sucker Punch

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

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

Triple Frontier

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

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

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

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

Scenes From a Marriage

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

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

The Two Faces of January

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

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

Misc.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[spicyllewyn]

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

[whatthefishh]

Sativa

Rydal Keener x f!reader

Part of the Oxford Comma series

Warnings: drug use (weed), studying excessively, oral (f receiving), mentions of p in v sex, baby cow eyes.

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: this took me way longer than I intended to write, it’s been a really difficult time in my mind for me and to those who are waiting for requests / chapters of other fics ily for being patient with me ❤️ huge thanks to my lovely mutuals who helped me, especially @xbellaxcarolinax for reading it over several times 🌹 love you

The room was slowly filling with the distinct smell of marijuana, little puffs of air spilling from Rydal’s lips as he took yet another drag of his joint before he tried to proposition you again.

“Wanna take a break now? It’s not like you can absorb the information by just staring at the textbook. Doesn’t work that way.”

You only sigh in response.

“A little smoke might make all those theories seem a little less… theoretical, yknow?” He laughs at the end of his quip like he finds himself extremely amusing.

“Oh, you think me finally giving in to your bad influence will help me pass this exam? You really think that’s the best way to study right now? Really?”

“Not a bad influence, princess, just wanna help you relax,” Rydal says while pushing your hair over your shoulder from where he was lying on his side next to you.

Smacking his hand away, you huff in annoyance. This wasn’t the first time he’s offered it to you, and it was never pressuring. He offered because he offered everything to you, and this was just another one of those things. You didn’t mind the smell. It was just irritating when you were trying to study and were very clearly stressed.

Rydal had learned these concepts from childhood, the topics of discussion in class were the same ones he’d have with his family at dinner, with his father over drinks at the early age of 14 back when he was obsessed with being just like him. The books on the syllabus were his summer readings as a child, the younger version of him desperate to impress with big words and bigger ideas, learning the hows and why’s of socialism when all his peers were riding their bicycles around the neighborhood. He didn’t have to focus as much as you did at this moment. And right now? Your brain was at its limit, barely digesting the words on the pages in front of you.

You lowered the textbook into your lap, turning to look down at him. His head was on the pillow next to you, eyes boring into yours calmly.

You felt your resolve slipping.

“None of this makes sense anymore.”

“What doesn’t?” He asked quietly, changing his teasing tone to match your somber one.

“It’s like, it’s like I’m reading the same thing over and over but I know—“

“You already know everything, you’re overthinking—“

“No, that’s what you think, but the last time I talked to your dad and he full-on tested me—“

“—wasn’t testing you, it came up organically so that doesn’t count—“

“Yes! Yes, he was! Who casually asks someone what their opinion on direct versus indirect democracies is over lunch? Like, what the fuck was I supposed to say?” Your voice is bordering on shrill, the memory of Lawrence’s unimpressed gaze and your face heating up in embarrassment as you struggled for words flashing through your mind.

“I’m sure he’d love hearing your rehearsed opinion next time. For now, though, I’d love to hear your opinion on something else.”

“Does it have to do with our actual reading material or does it have something to do with getting lost in a cloud of smoke with you?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“I just wanna make you feel better, baby, is that so wrong?” Rydal is looking up at you, unwavering, moving to finger the edge of the sweater you had on before dipping his hand underneath to rest on your back.

Looking at him with those eyes, the intense deep stare he held; his pink lips and their slight upturn, gentle and playful all at once —you made up your mind.

Propping your hand to take the joint from him, he doesn’t give it but instead, he sits up to guide it to your lips himself, his other hand clutching your waist. Rydal rests the tip of it against your lips, his eyes watching the way you wrap them around it delicately and you swear you could see his pupils dilate and hear his breathing slow down.

“Take it nice and slow, deep breath,” he murmurs, eyes locked on your mouth as you inhale, “hold it, that’s it. Good girl. Now slowly exhale.”

You did as you were told, feeling the smoke fill up your lungs and burn slightly as you held it, and then exhaled straight into Rydal’s face.

“Oh god, sorry I didn’t realize how close—“

Before you could finish speaking, he took a deep drag of the joint and hungrily pressed his lips against yours, inadvertently blowing the smoke into your mouth while doing so. You could feel his warm breath mixing with yours, your hearts beating in unison as his lips worked yours. The almost sweet and earthy taste of the weed seeps into your lungs as his tongue claims your mouth. Everything was overwhelming and thrilling and arousing and beautiful and he felt so good right then that you wanted to claw your way into his lap and stay there, burrow into his chest until you were warm and safe.

Rydal would keep you safe, with him. He would.

Pulling apart for air, you don’t remember who moved first but he was tossing your textbook on the floor while you were peeling your sweater off, the room becoming instantly warmer, the need to be closer to him making you antsy. Needy.

The effects of the smoke kicked in sometime between kissing Rydal stupid and him taking off your bottoms, his eyes stripping you faster than his hands could. You were clutching his shoulders, desperate to keep him close especially once the weight settled over you and your limbs felt heavier.

He had to stay close, you couldn’t let him leave you at this moment. Your arousal mixed with the slight paranoia that came with the high resulted in a very strong desire to stay as close as you could to Rydal, needing him more than you could put into words. You hoped he understood from how tight you were holding him, from how much you were whining when he dragged a finger down your soaked panties.

You flopped back against his pillows and despite being naked, you didn’t feel cold, your eyes and nipples pointed to the ceiling as he kissed his way down your tummy. He already laved your breasts with his mouth, the traces of saliva he left behind from wrapping his mouth around your peaks now making them pebble in the evening air. Rydal’s hands were everywhere, his tongue dipping out every few seconds to taste your skin. The effects of the high made you hypersensitive to the maelstrom of sensations, his touches feeling ten times more powerful and intimate than usual.

You didn’t realize it, but you were making all the pretty and perfect noises for him, breathy moans louder than usual while he explored your soft skin, harshly panting and voice wavering on little moans. You were driving him up the wall, his hips softly grinding into his blanket for some relief while he mouthed over the top of your underwear.

Rydal’s mouth wrapped around your clothed clit, letting his drool soak the material until he could suck it and hear your shocked squeal of pleasure. You buried your hands in his soft hair, strands slipping through like gossamer.

He lifted his mouth an inch just to hook a finger around the gusset and plant an open mouth kiss on the very core of you. He was sweet like that.

Apparently, your panties were too much of an obstruction for him as they were ripped from your legs a moment later so that he could spread you open with his fingers. Licking a stripe up your dripping cunt, Rydal dived in, eyes closed, his nose gently nudging your clit while he tongued at your opening. He continued to tongue fuck you, slowly moving in and out of your little hole leaving you gasping and moaning lowly, tugging on his hair. He continued this little routine; licking up your peeled-back core, tonguing inside your cunt, and then to rile you up that much more, he would let his teeth graze your clit.

Rydal’s fingers were stuck gripping your thighs, leaving indents from how tight he had to hold you down just so you’d stop squirming. You were so restless from him edging you, almost cumming several times but he’d pull back, blowing cool air on your core just to take you all the way again. Occasionally, he would moan into you, swirling his tongue around your clit just to suckle on it sweetly as if it were honey he was drinking on. You were whining pathetically as you buck your hips up into his mouth, the synthetic dose of dopamine only serving to heighten your pleasure. Your limbs felt heavy, you could’ve been 10 feet underground, plunged deep within the earth itself, body like lead, and the only thing you could focus on was the way Rydal’s mouth lapped at you, slurping obscenely as he made you choke on a moan.

This time around, he didn’t let up, his tongue working double time as he stared up at you, his hands pushing your thighs further apart to give him the space to fuck you with his tongue with purpose. He was intent on making you cum, fucking finally. You tried to ask, tried to form the words to beg him – maybe you did, maybe you were begging him more than you usually did, maybe that’s why he was finally giving in to you, you really couldn’t remember what you were saying – but it seemed he wasn’t stopping. Reaching up with one hand to entwine his fingers with yours and resting it on your tummy, he groaned, almost as if giving you the permission you were waiting for to let go, that it was okay, that he’d take care of you, catch you when you inevitably fall.

And fall you did. Hard.

Eyes shutting, head thrown back, floating and sinking simultaneously, his mattress was soaked not only with your release but with sweat, your body feeling seven different emotions at once as you finally came into his eagerly awaiting mouth. Rydal was there just as he promised, made you feel good – brilliant, intoxicated, euphoric – true to his word.

The comedown was… interesting.

Rydal was still holding your hand, thumb rubbing the back of your palm while he nuzzled your thigh, resting his head and blinking up at you while you caught your breath. He was a sight to behold, his gorgeous hair mussed from your restless hands, lips shiny and swollen from use and his eyes, so fucking deep and loving and still hungry.

The giggling started, hazy thoughts from the high making it hard to stop, taking the weight off your chest as it continued. Thinking about how you were aggressively pushing his hands away from you just moments before letting you wreck his comforter had you covering your face, releasing another peal of laughter. Rydal’s lazy half-smile while watching you only made it worse, knowing he thought you were a lightweight and would definitely tease you about it later. Kissing his way back up your body, pressing his mouth lovingly on your soft parts, he met you at his pillow, smiling down at you prettily. You sigh after the last little laugh leaves your chest, eyes sparkling up at him and suddenly feeling bashful.

“Never heard you beg so nicely before,” he says, smiling, kissing the corner of your mouth before snickering at your embarrassed groan. “‘Pleasepleaseplease, oh GOD–’”

“Ssshhhhhhutthefuckup oh my god, I did not sound like that,” you shoved your hands on his face, hastily trying to cover his mouth from speaking and imitating you again. Your cheeks burned. You didn’t sound like that, right?

“Mmmph, yeah actually, you’re right. It was much worse,” he managed, despite your fingers slipping into (his?) mouth. After gently removing them, he held them down against the bed before leaning forward to hover right above your lips, “it’s okay, baby, I liked it. Can you do it again for me?”

And then he held your gaze, like a fucking siren, knowing exactly the effect he had on you and your now achingly empty pussy, the muscles clenching around nothing as he let his breath mingle with yours. Rydal didn’t kiss you, just stared at you with his eyelids low waiting for you to beg him.

“Are you gonna let me take care of you? Gonna ask me nicely?” He was so close but kept himself away until the only thing you could focus on was syncing up the movement of your lungs. His denial only made you want him more, desperation bleeding out from you.

“Mhmm,” you whimpered.

“Yeah? That the best you can do?”

“P-please.”

“There it is,” he mumbled, gripping his length in one hand, lining himself up to slowly push himself in, the fat tip of him stealing your breath.

Rydal never got enough of the way your sweet pussy gripped him, and made sure to pull as many soft pleas out of you as he could for the rest of the night.

#rydal keener #Rydal keener fanfiction #Rydal keener smut #Oxford comma series #yes this is about Rydal keener #rydal keener x reader #Rydal keener x f!reader #the two faces of january #oscar isaac fandom #oscar isaac fanfiction

[whatthefishh]

Oxford Comma

Rydal Keener x f!Reader

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

Words: 7k+

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

Series Masterlist

———-

It all starts during homecoming. 

Well, sort of. 

That’s when you met him.

\\\

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

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

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

“It wasn’t a bribe–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

\\\

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What. The. Fuck.

“What the fuck?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now you were going to scream.

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

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

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

A thought occurred to you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sitting on my bed."

"Just give me the photocopies, Rydal."

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

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

"How much?"

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

"For you? Nothing, for now.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

Really.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

///

Twenty minutes later you’re knocking on his door.

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

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

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

“You still owe me a favour, y’know.”

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

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

“Doesn’t count. I didn’t finish.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um–” you began.

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

You choked.

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

[campingwiththecharmings]

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

(thanks for your patience with this y'all, i'm so sorry it took so long to post. working on getting july and august recs out as well ❤️)

🔥 - explicit/mature content

Star Wars

🔥For Your Entertainment (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Gardens of Babylon (Cowboy!Din Djarin x Cowgirl!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch (yes i'm rec-ing this again)

You Are in Love (Modern!Poe Dameron x Reader) - @alwritey-aphrodite (i will rec this every time i read a new chapter, try and stop meeee)

🔥Clandestine (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @the-little-ewok

🔥Good Morning (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @whirlybirbs

🔥favor (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

Rookie Mistake (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @groguspicklejar

🔥Never Before (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Moon Knight

🔥Prized Possession (Marc Spector x Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥The Best Kept Secrets - Marc's Story (dbf!Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Kisses on your lovers lap (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @sweetly-yours-and-mine

🔥Let Your Fingers to the Talking (Jake Lockley x F!Villain!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

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

Sprite: Savior (Marc Spector x forest nymph oc Nikini) - @spacecowboyhotch

Bubble Bath (Marc Spector x Reader) - @shewhohangsoutincemeteries

Domestic Fluff (Steven Grant x Housewife!Reader) - @xbellaxcarolinax

Fluff and Kisses with Marc (Marc Spector x Reader) - @sweetly-yours-and-mine

Her Hair Reminds Me of a Warm, Safe Place (Marc Spector x Layla El-Faouly) - @romanarose

🔥Forever Bittersweet (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Please (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

🔥take it (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥apology (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥willing to give (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @graysonshaven

🔥take my breath (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @whatthefishh

🔥burrowed under my skin (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @dameronscopilot

🔥Cállate (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @xbellaxcarolinax

🔥Impatient (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Little Bug (Yandere!Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Every You, Every Me (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @astroboots (i haven't finished this yet but i cannot recommend this fic enough)

🔥Soothe & Sleep (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Wandering Hands (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @loganlermanstanaccount

tousled, stubbled, tired (Miguel O'Hara x Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥Virgin!Miguel w/a huge cock and fucks both of u dumb (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @xbellaxcarolinax

🔥Take It All (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @romanarose

🔥Make Me A Liar (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @groguspicklejar

🔥coming home (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

Triple Frontier

Blurring Out (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

Being Will's Girl Would Include (Will Miller x F!Reader) - @missdictatorme

🔥Look What the Cat Dragged In (Santiago Garcia x F!Thief!Reader) - @missdictatorme

For Better, For Worse (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @bullet-prooflove

The Last of Us

To the Rescue (Pre-Outbreak!Joel x F!Reader) - @romanarose

Waffle House penance (Joel Miller x F!Reader) - @softlyspector

Sucker Punch

🔥Needy Little Thing (Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

The Two Faces of January

🔥The Oxford Comma Series (Rydal Keener x F!Reader) - @whatthefishh (will never stop rec-ing this fic ❤️)

Ex Machina

🔥heavenly praises (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @leoluved

🔥old fashioned (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @leoluved

🔥chase and pull (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @leoluved

🔥indulge me (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @leoluved

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

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

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

#poe dameron x reader #rydal keener x reader #santiago garcia x reader #joel miller x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #din djarin x reader #blue jones x reader #nathan bateman x reader #will miller x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #marc spector x layla el faouly #marc spector x oc #fic rec

[whatthefishh]

until we bleed

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

Words: 6.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The girl that wasn’t a charity case. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, yeah. Yeah, we can go, c’mon.” 

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

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

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

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

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

You inhale a shuddering breath. 

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

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

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

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

“Who?” 

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

“…it’s not like that—“ he sighs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looks the way you feel. 

You watch him fumble for words. 

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

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

You push it once more.

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

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

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

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

“Rydal, what the fu—“

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

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

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

“So mouthy all the time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re coming. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shhh—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You open your eyes to find him already watching you. 

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

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

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

[campingwiththecharmings]

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

🔥 - explicit/mature content

Star Wars

You Are in Love (Modern!Poe Dameron x Reader) - @alwritey-aphrodite (yes i am reccing this again. i will be reccing this until it's finished, dill with it)

Running to You, This Feels Like Good News, & Maybe I'll Get Drunk Again (Poe Dameron x F!Solo!Reader) - @dailyreverie

Gardens of Babylon (Cowboy!Din Djarin x Cowgirl!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

🔥Deft Hands (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @eyelessfaces

Offer (Din Djarin x Reader) - @softlyspector

The Two Faces of January

🔥Oxford Comma, Boyfriend, Girlfriend, & Arty Boy (Rydal Keener x F!Reader) - @whatthefishh

Triple Frontier

🔥Worth the Risk (bfd!Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor (second part)

🔥Family Vacation (bfd!Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥A Brilliant Idea (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Distractions (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @princessxkenobi

🔥Relief (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @princessxkenobi

🔥Dusk Till Dawn (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @be-the-spark-flyboy

🔥Belonging (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Moon Knight

🔥Steven's First (Virgin!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Gone Soft: Marc Spector Edition (Marc Spector x Reader) - @romanarose

Merry, Happy III (Jake Lockley x Muslim!Reader) - @whatthefishh

Neck Kisses (Steven Grant x Reader) - @eyelessfaces

🔥C*ck Therapy (Therapist!Steven Grant x Patient!Camgirl!Reader) - @whatthefishh

Bordeaux (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @sweetly-yours-and-mine

🔥Dirty Driving (Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Drinking with Cupid (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @moonknightly

🔥Making Trouble (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @juneknight

🔥Colorblind (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @astroboots

In the Eyes (Marc Spector x Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

All That Matters (Jake Lockley x Reader, references to Marc Spector x Reader) - @midgardian-witch

The Dress (Marc Spector x Reader) - @sweetly-yours-and-mine

🔥The Pavlovian Response (Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @missdictatorme

🔥Extra Credit (Professor!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Pillow Talk (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Just Happy Accidents (Jake Lockley x Reader) - @romanarose

The Last of Us

🔥Old Soul (Joel Miller x F!Reader) - @softlyspector

🔥Falling into Place (Joel Miller x F!Reader) - @jake-g-lockley

🔥Games (Bodyguard!Joel x Actress!Reader) & 🔥High Enough (Ft. Dieter Bravo) - @psychedelic-ink

Waffle House Confessions (Joel Miller x F!Reader) - @softlyspector

🔥Lost in the Darkness (Joel Miller x F!Reader - Mafia AU) - @softlyspector

The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent

Darklight (Javi Gutierrez x F!Reader) - @psychedelic-ink

Inside Llewyn Davis

Intoxicated (Llewyn Davis x Reader) - @eyelessfaces

Sucker Punch

🔥A Long Night (Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Narcos

🔥Just Friends (Javier Peña x F!Reader) - @pedgeitopascal

The Sun Also Rises (Javier Peña x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch (second part)

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

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

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

#poe dameron x reader #rydal keener x reader #santiago garcia x reader #joel miller x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #javi gutierrez x reader #llewyn davis x reader #din djarin x reader #blue jones x reader #javier pena x reader #fic rec

[whatthefishh]

the adults are talking

Rydal Keener x f!reader

Warnings: p in v, swearing, cream pie, car sex, possibly bad banter idk I love these idiots, daddy issues, just PWoP but part of the Oxford Comma universe

Words: 1.4K

This was not a good idea, and yet here you were trying to make it work.

You were in Rydal’s car, on his lap in the front seat, knees bracketing his hips while you shared the same breath. Chest to chest, you could barely move in the tight space. He had told you the seats reclined back but clearly the vintage vehicle wasn’t designed to fit the two of you, least of all two people trying to fuck in the front seat.

It started when you were in class together, his hand resting on your thigh innocently. You were paying attention, diligently taking notes in the back of the lecture hall. Rydal was losing interest, you could tell by the swirls he was drawing with his finger on your bare leg, the skirt you were wearing one of his favourites. He always lost his damn mind when you showed a bit of leg, and to add to his agony you were actually being studious today.

After inching his hand upward every few minutes, going unnoticed, you nearly yelped when his index finger brushed the gusset of your panties. Forcefully dragging his hand away, you hissed at him to stop. He tried to stare at you convincingly but it still failed to work on you. He tried to pout, leaning in closer to grab your attention and you still didn’t give in.

Eventually you told him you’d let him have his way with you after class but that you needed him to be patient. As soon as class ended, he packed up your stuff for you, quickly shoving it into your bag and pulling your hand towards the exit. Your dorm was closer than his, and he made a beeline heading in that direction, expertly weaving his way through the crowd of students and pulling you behind him. Upon opening your door, you saw your roommate essentially eating her boyfriend’s face on her bed and immediately turned around to leave before they broke apart for air.

Rydal was quick to offer his own dorm, now not as far away, which found the two of you in the hallway before his neighbour decided to let him know his father was waiting for him inside his room. Looking at him with a bit of humour and a bit of pity, you brushed some of his hair back and told him maybe it just wasn’t his day. He was pouting again, using those big beautiful brown eyes of his to pull at your heartstrings before they lit up again.

Which brought you to the present, your back pressed against the steering wheel as he sat back and groaned at the sight of you without your top on.

“What the fuck kind of name is Cerberus anyway?”

“Why are you so hot when you’re mean to me?” He replied back, not even looking up from the expanse of your skin he was touching on your tummy.

Reaching up to pull the cups of your bra down, he didn’t have to strain his neck at all to put his mouth on you, tongue swirling around your nipple in small circles before flicking it, pulling a soft moan from you. You were rolling your hips against his pants, the space so tight even with the seats moved back, you couldn’t even get your panties off. Your hands were in his silky hair while he sucked a bruise onto your sternum, on his way to your other breast.

Rydal’s one hand was gripping your hip and preventing you from grinding on him while the other was trying to open his pants, shaky movements giving away his desperation.

“Help,” he mumbled over your skin.

Sniffing out a laugh, your hands slap his away before unzipping his pants for him and pulling his hard cock out, gripping the base of it teasingly.

“Always need my help—“

“—trying to fuck you right now, it’s so not the time—“

“—when are you not trying t-to fuck me, let’s be real—“

“—so mean, baby, is it because you want me so bad, huh?”

At that, he pulled your panties aside and without warning started pushing his length into your dripping core, effectively silencing any comeback you had for him. Throwing your head back on a moan, he pushed on your sternum so you were laid in front of him, as far as you could go.

Your skirt was still on. He looked at where you were joined, secretly, like a little secret kept between you two, the way he was grinding his hips up into you, the way he made you absolutely come apart for him— not so secretive by the way the windows were fogging up — enough to make you forget your retort.

Rydal’s hands were squeezing everywhere he could reach, watching you barely lift yourself on his cock and then drop back down, moaning unabashedly. The range of motion you had was limited but his cock was filling you up so deeply from this angle, hitting that spot inside you that made your mind go numb repeatedly.

His mouth was slightly open, ragged breath only adding to the heat your bodies were producing, bucking his hips up every few seconds into your warm and wet pussy. Seeing you ignoring him and swatting his hand away in class, biting your pencil before scribbling notes and just being so fucking smart in general had him hard for so long before he even attempted to get his hands on you. Watching you go stupid when he filled you up was something he’d never get enough of.

You’d barely been riding him for a few minutes before you were coming, the slow grind and whiny pants coming from Rydal had you falling over the edge quicker than you anticipated. Head falling back behind the steering wheel, your back arched so your breasts were in his face. He was delirious from how bad he wanted you today.

Kissing whatever skin he could reach, he left a spit trail on your body, roughly pulling you down onto his cock and fucking up into you at the same time. Your body heaved forward, curling into his chest as you were still riding out the waves of your pleasure while Rydal chased his own. His grunts and whines were close to your ear now, his sounds so debauched to have your stomach muscles tightening in response.

Leaking more for him, Rydal’s thrusts were more and more sloppy, the noises of your coupling as well as his whimpers made you clench around him, the stirrings of desire once again catching you by surprise. Your own moans were probably loud enough for anyone who happened to be within fifty metres of the car to know exactly what was happening, let alone the fogged up windows.

Your hand shot out to steady yourself, imprinting in the condensation as you met his thrusts, slamming your hips on his to reach orgasm again. His hand moved to the front of your panties, pressing on where he could feel himself inside you and you gasped at the sensation. His thumb slipped around the flimsy material, rubbing at your wet bundle of nerves until you shuddered.

“F-fuck, harder! Mmmph—“ you cried.

The way his hands were indenting your flesh was utterly obscene, the way the car was probably rocking, the tightness of the space, Rydal’s own whines and whimpers — all of it made your second time coming that much more intense.

You cried out loudly, unknowingly causing Rydal to find his own release inside your sweet pussy.

“S’good, so — fucking — good, shit baby,” he groaned, licking a stripe up your neck before attacking your lips with his own in a sloppy and desperate kiss.

He softened inside you, plugging you full of him while he kissed you and kissed you and kissed you. The two of you probably alerted the whole school as to what you were up to, regardless of the parking lot being somewhat empty when he made the rash and cliche suggestion of using Cerberus for his “personal emergency”.

Finally pulling apart to breathe, Rydal’s shapely nose brushed against yours before reality hit him again.

“What do you think my dad wanted?”

“Yeah, okay let me just—“

Sliding yourself off him before he started talking about his father while still inside you, you fell gracelessly in the front seat and started getting dressed.

Once you were proper again— as proper as you could look, your hair and face were giving freshly fucked but —you turned to him, smiling at the contemplative look on his face.

“Okay Rydal, tell me what’s on your mind.”

#rydal keener #yes this is about rydal keener #rydal keener fanfiction #rydal keener x you #rydal keener x reader #rydal keener smut #the two faces of january fanfiction #the two faces of january #oscar isaac fanfiction #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac characters

[campingwiththecharmings]

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

(thanks for your patience y'all, i’m so sorry it's taking so long to post these. working on getting recs for august-october out as well ❤️)

🔥 - explicit/mature content

Star Wars

Born to Run (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @romanarose

out of sight, out of mind (Poe Dameron x Reader) -@eyelessfaces

🔥Birthday Cake (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Relief (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @ivystoryweaver

Neighborly (Modern!Poe Dameron x Reader) - @youvebeenlivingfictional

The Little Spoon (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @the-little-ewok

Moon Knight

Heat of the Night (Marc Spector x Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

Popsicle (Marc Spector x Reader) - @sweetly-yours-and-mine

🔥Dirty Dancing (DBF!Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥pornstar!moon-boys x fluffer!reader - @runa-falls

Tempest (Marc Spector x Reader) - @the-little-ewok

the love bite (Steven Grant x Reader) - @runa-falls

🔥Bossy Boy (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥the other guy (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @runa-falls

The Honey Girl (Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

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

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

🔥Scent (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @xbellaxcarolinax

🔥Always Yours, Never Mine (Yandere!Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Honey-Sweet (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @fettuccin-e

🔥uh-huh (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @l13

🔥Halo (Miguel O'hara x AI!Reader) - @missdictatorme

🔥It's Always Been You (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @xbellaxcarolinax

🔥Good Girl (Professor!Miguel O'Hara x Stripper Student!F!Reader) - @xbellaxcarolinax

🔥Miguel O'Hara x Pierced!Spider-girl!Reader - @runa-falls

🔥Stubborn (Miguel O’Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader) - @oharahive

🔥Beg (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @xbellaxcarolinax

🔥Surrender (sub!Mugiel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @romanarose

Triple Frontier

bloom for me (Regency!Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @whatthefishh

🔥Say my name (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @writefightandflightclub

🔥(Im)Patience (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @the-little-ewok

🔥Every inch of you (Santiago Garcia x Plus Size!F!Reader) - @the-little-ewok

Midnight Picnic (Santiago Garcia x Reader) - @sweetly-yours-and-mine

The Two Faces of January

🔥the adults are talking (Rydal Keener x F!Reader) - @whatthefishh (part of the Oxford Comma series❤️)

Sucker Punch

🔥Filthy (Asylum!Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

🔥Role Reversal (Sub!Blue Jones x F!Reader) - @melodygatesauthor

Narcos

Summer Song (Javier Peña x Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

The Last of Us

Crush (Joel Miller x F!Reader) - @softlyspector

🔥Catching (Joel Miller x F!Reader) - @softlyspector

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

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

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

#poe dameron x reader #rydal keener x reader #santiago garcia x reader #joel miller x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #blue jones x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #javier pena x reader #fic rec

[campingwiththecharmings]

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

(finally caught up, phew! thanks for your patience y'all ❤️)

🔥 - explicit/mature content

Star Wars

🔥The Nerve (Din Djarin x F!Reader) - @missdictatorme

Rookie Mistake (Poe Dameron x F!Reader) - @groguspicklejar (i've recced this before, but now there are more parts so 😌)

Poe Dameron falling in love with his best friend (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @i-belong-to-the-stars

Pièce de rèsistance (Poe Dameron x Reader) - @the-little-ewok

Moon Knight

🔥Be Lost (Dom!Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @juneknight

🔥Dark Necessities (Steven Grant/Marc Spector/Jake Lockley x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction (i've recced this before but it's amazing and now there's a part 3 🙃)

🔥reciprocation (Best Friend!Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @runa-falls

🔥Zombie Apocolypse AU with Marc (Marc Spector x F!Reader) - @xbellaxcarolinax

Serenade (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @missdictatorme

Shava Tova (Moon Boys x Non-Jewish!Reader) - @romanarose

🔥Prettiest Sounds (Steven Grant x F!Reader) - @romanarose

Tell Me About it (Jake Lockley x Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Triple Frontier

🔥Mine. (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @burstanddecay

Night drive (Santiago Garcia x F!Reader) - @dailyreverie

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

🔥miguel o’hara fucks you to sleep (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @beautysamour

🔥Earth 703 (Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @xbellaxcarolinax

🔥college miggy helping you out (College AU!Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader) - @reinasei

Scenes from a Marriage

🔥Filthy (Jonathan Levy x F!Reader) - @spacecowboyhotch

Ex Machina

🔥Good Moring (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

🔥Fever (Nathan Bateman x F!Reader) - @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Lightningface

🔥Perv!Neighbour Basil finds your camgirl account (Perv!Basil Stitt x Camgirl!F!Reader) - @redeyerhaenyra

The Two Faces of January

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

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

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

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

#poe dameron x reader #din djarin x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #santiago garcia x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #jonathan levy x reader #nathan bateman x reader #basil stitt x reader #rydal keener x reader #fic rec #q

[whatthefishh]

Arty Boy

Rydal Keener x f!reader

Words: 1.9k; part of the Oxford Comma series but can be read alone I guess

Warnings: no smut but mature themes-ish, mentions of sex and intimacy, fluff, soft Rydal, bickering, rich people shit, a glance at their relationship over a few months

“No, you’re not allowed to smile at me like that.”

“Wha– I wasn’t smiling like anything!” he countered.

“What, what is it? What are you hiding, you’ve got that look on your face when you’re hiding something from me,” you threw the sweater of his that you were holding, into his suitcase where you were currently packing his things for winter break.

You had spent the last few weeks of spending almost every day together, learning each other in your own way, asking the deep cutting questions first and following up with asking what his favourite colour was. Rydal was gentle when he asked you about where you grew up, his petty comment all that time ago about your hometown at the forefront of his mind. You told him everything there was to know as you lay on top of his chest, tracing your finger in mindless circles on his skin while avoiding eye contact. You had asked him what he wanted to do with his life. He didn’t have a straight answer.

“Not become my father,” he had muttered.

“What does that mean?”

He never did answer your question now that you thought about it. You were brought back to the present when he got up from his place where he was lounging on the bed like some antiquated forgotten prince in his prime. He sure looked the part, was bred into the role. Moulded for it really. The way his hair flopped into his eyes was surely a gift from the gods themselves. Rydal opened one of his desk drawers and reached inside, pulling out a book before turning to you with that disarming stare of his.

“Since I have to leave you in this cold, dreadful, lonesome building for the holidays–”

“Okay, relax, I won’t be entirely alone–”

“–all by yourself, without me–”

“–Eleanor is staying, too, for fuck’s sake I already mentioned this–”

“–I got you something,” he finished without the flourish you were expecting.

Rydal presented you with the book in his arms, brandishing the title as if he were an old-fashioned tour guide in Europe, arm movements and all. Cheeseball. It was an early edition of Pride and Prejudice, one of your favourites – ridiculously well kept and the pages hardly creased from lack of use. The binding was perfectly intact and you were almost afraid to take it from his hands, eyes darting between the title and his face in shock.

He brushed off your reaction and protests, insisting that you took it off his hands, that you’d be doing him a favour really, and that he had no use for it. You hardly believed him but accepted the gift nonetheless, noticing the way his chest puffed out with pride at your excitement over it, and cherishing what must have been a family heirloom that he so freely handed over to you.

///

The next time Rydal got you something that made you slightly nervous to accept was in February. It was before Valentines, the two of you choosing to ignore the ostentatious and offensive holiday in favour of just passing midterm season. He was so casual about it, leaving it in your bathroom cabinet with your other cheaper toiletries in its original packaging, slapping the tiniest pink bow you’d ever seen on it so you’d know it was from him. You don’t even remember telling him about it, the Chanel bottle glaringly out of place amongst your other drug store products.

You made sure to wear it the next time you saw him, and you fucking knew he was waiting for you to with the way he pressed his nose into your neck and deeply inhaled as you greeted him. If this was another game of his, you weren’t going to be the one to back down and admit you squealed and showed it off to your roommate.

You probably shouldn’t have done that last part. Eleanor was already jealous enough as it was, complaining that her boyfriend still hadn’t made reservations for the cringey celebration.

Rydal made sure to be extra handsy that day, taking any and every excuse to lean into your personal space and show his appreciation that you wore what he bought for you. Which, okay, fine, you liked that you had that effect on him but he was bordering on hedonistic as he mouthed at you. Not that you were complaining but you definitely pushed him away a few times out of fear of him sucking a bruise onto your skin in broad daylight.

You made sure to spray the perfume all over your body the next time you saw him, fully expecting him to go batshit and not let you leave his dorm.

///

Towards the end of the semester with the prospect of summer looming over your heads, you felt more and more needy towards Rydal. You were not only stressed about the end of your second year, but finals and the fear of not seeing him for the next four months despite his plans and promises. Not only were you stealing his t-shirts that carried his scent with them, hoarding them away for lonely nights, you were also playing your hand with his other possessions.

You began wearing anything and everything at least once for fear of his memory leaving you in the short time you were away from each other. This ended up with you rifling through his closet while he showered, trying on different sweaters and blazers before finding a pair of sunglasses tucked into the breast pocket of one of his jackets, tossing it aside quickly before trying the classic Raybans on.

Which is exactly how he found you, looking at yourself from different angles in the mirror and seeing if you could pull off the heavy metal frames. If only they were just a tad smaller. Sighing, you deposited them into his outstretched hand, his subtle smirk going unnoticed by you.

Rydal thought this side of you was hilarious, he knew exactly what you were doing when you thought you were subtly tucking his shirts away into your bag before leaving. He found this new behaviour incredibly endearing, especially since you refused to admit that the time away from him was going to be a problem anytime he asked.

It’s not that he didn’t feel the same, no, he definitely wasn’t looking forward to the month you’d have to spend apart. He was afraid of the morning he would have to wake up in his childhood home without the option of you being there, or just a couple minutes of a walk away. Just the thought of it made his stomach churn uncomfortably but he refused to think about it.

A week after the awkward sunglasses incident, you received a nondescript brown package to your dorm. Thinking it was for your roommate, you left it for Eleanor on her bed without a second glance. You didn’t order things to your dorm, you were fucking poor.

When she picked it up, she scoffed at the shipping label before walking it over to you, muttering something about Sebastian needing to step his game up. Looking down at the package again, you saw that it was addressed to you. You ripped the package open in confusion before lifting the spectacle case out of the bubble wrap, your mind immediately jumping to your stupidly well off boyfriend.

Inside the case was the matching women’s version of the frames he owned, the same ones that were just a bit too large for your face. You hated the swooping feeling you got while putting them on.

///

Summer was upon the both of you before you were ready. You had to say your goodbyes, temporary or not, you couldn’t very well go home with him and he wouldn’t last a day in your life. You just had to wait until you met up in June, at his family’s summer home. There, you’d spend a month or two, depending on how uncomfortable you were in the presence of other nepo babies.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, that’s why you’re suffocating me, right?”

His voice came out muffled against your shoulder which was currently pressed up against his mouth from where you had thrown your arms around him.

Pulling back to press your foreheads together, his hands came up to hold your face between them.

“I’ll be back under your skin before you know it… hopefully under you before either of us know it.”

///

When you saw him again in June, you were a nervous wreck. The pressure of not only seeing him outside of your normal routine of school but also in the presence of his family and other privileged kids, some of which went to school with you both, was making you unnaturally quiet. Rydal, of course, noticed.

“C’mere, baby, gotta show you something.”

“Rydal, we can’t have sex in the pool changing rooms,” you started.

“No, what? Ew. What the fuck— ew, no! I’m not that easy—“

You made a face.

“Let’s not get into how easy you were for me—“

“—not fair, you should’ve seen yourself—“

“—practically begging me to suck you off—“

“—you know I like when you say the word suck—“

“—why did you ask me to follow you in here?”

Rydal reached into his pocket, thick hands pulling the already tight fabric even more taught causing your eyes to openly ogle his thigh. It’s been a long month and a half away from each other, you couldn’t help it and you weren’t drooling, okay?

He pulled out a small blue box, the distinct colour of it starkly contrasted against his sun kissed skin. Robin’s egg blue. No, that’s not quite right. Tiffany blue. Tacky white bow on top.

Your heart stopped beating.

“Rydal, what— I can’t accept whatever is in that box,” you were stuttering and your eyes were most definitely welling up.

“Hey, hey. It’s just an early birthday present,” his arms came up to pull you closer. “I… I like buying you things. Pretty things. You deserve them, baby, will you at least let me show you?”

He was being uncharacteristically gentle with you, out of place in the echoing changing room by the pool. Well, that’s not entirely true, was it? Rydal showed you his gentle and soft side often, however, it was usually masked with a bratty comment here and there. If you let yourself take the time to remember, he had been showing you kindness from the day you met him, ready to forgive you for ruining his best friend’s stark white shoes.

And that’s the thing with Rydal, he was always going to be soft for you, even if he covered it up with messy words to make you frown at him. He never wanted you to grovel for him or his money, never expected you to treat him any differently for all the pretty things he bought you, for all the liberties he granted you.

Looking up into his doting eyes, you found him waiting for your response, if you would let him buy his girlfriend a birthday present. To grant him permission to adorn you. You nodded hesitantly.

He was excited to open the box and take out the tennis bracelet, a delicately bejewelled thing. He was eager to clasp it around your wrist before watching you admire it.

“Do you—“

“I love you.”

#rydal keener fanfiction #rydal keener x reader #rydal keener x you #rydal keener #the two faces of january #the two faces of January fanfiction #Rydal keener fic #oscar isaac fanfiction #oxford comma fic #yes this is about rydal keener

[whatthefishh]

the Chester problem

Rydal Keener x f!Reader

Part of the Oxford Comma series

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: swearing, mature themes, no smut but mentions of sex, someone gets punched

Chester probably didn’t know he was the cause of your breakup. Or your attempted breakup.

Rydal said he’d go get you both some coffee from the cafe inside the building you were studying in front of, leaving you alone with the chaotic textbook pentagram you were surrounded by. Leaning against a tree, you were comfortable in the evening spring air, taking note of the turkeys staking claim over a certain patch of grass a few yards away. You started packing up your things, thinking to yourself that you may as well head back with the warm drinks in hand and spend the rest of your evening in his dorm. 

It wasn’t too dark out, the sky already darkening but not so much so that you were without light. If you headed back now you could still watch a movie together. You were perfectly fine in your train of thought until a tall figure stood directly in your line of vision. It took you a second to angle your head to see who was attached to the tall frame, heart dropping in your stomach seeing that it belonged to none other than Chester. His dirty blonde hair looked perfectly mussed, his clear skin making him look more boyish than you knew he was. The crisp white cotton piqué polo he had on only served to piss you off further. The guy really had no qualms wearing all white, the impracticality of maintenance not even on his mind.

“Ah, just the little minx I was looking for,” he smirked down at you. 

“Rydal will be back in just a few. You can… wait over there or something,” you looked back down to the text in your hand. 

“You know, I know you’re not as squeaky clean as he thinks you are.”

Your relationship with Rydal’s oldest friend wasn’t… the greatest. The mere sight of him made you uncomfortable, his piercing gaze making you feel as though you were constantly under a microscope and you swore you could feel when he walked into a room just based on your spine tingling from the heavy weight of it. At first, he studied you, studied your dynamic with Rydal, went quiet when he’d make you laugh just for you to sober up and catch him staring with his head tilted and a curious glint in his eye. He would watch how Rydal greeted you when you’d join their group, how he casually slung his arm over your shoulder on the couch in the common areas, eyes tracing over the comfort in which you touched each other. It unnerved you to say the least. This was all before the comments started. 

You thought he was still mad about his white Sperry’s from that fateful first day, so you tried to apologize and laugh about it with him. He had looked you up and down before blinking at you and walking away. Honestly, you don’t know what you expected. You didn’t tell Rydal about it out of fear of sounding like a whiny girlfriend, afraid of causing a rift between the two friends. You would just shoulder the discomfort for his sake, not because Chester deserved any ounce of your kindness. 

Chester then made a comment about how you didn’t smell so bad anymore shortly after Rydal had gotten you the Chanel perfume, loudly noting how you didn’t hold back from using it. As if you carried some sort of poor people stench with you before. As if you had to burn through the bottle just to coat you in something palatable. That was the day you spat back at him, startling Rydal with how much hate you actually held in your voice, but again he didn’t intervene. Your severe vacillating verbal abuse only served to create tension between the three of you, and you avoided him as frequently and as blatantly as you could. 

Shoving your notebooks in your bag with more force than was necessary, you looked up at him without bothering to hide how irritating his mere presence is for you. Standing up didn’t help in balancing out your height difference but it made you feel a lot less small next to him. He still had at least a foot over you, and he smiled patronizingly at you in your show of defiance. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Chester takes a step closer, your chests almost brushing if not for your step backwards, and he continues until your back is pressed up against the tree you were leaning against just moments before. Placing a hand next to your head, effectively boxing you in with his frame, he leans down until your faces are inches apart before speaking again. 

“It means, sweetheart, that I think we both know why you’re really with Rydal. You’ve been having a grand old time in our world. Why don’t you let me have a turn, hmm? I can buy you nice things, too, if that’s what it’ll take.”

You’re not surprised that he thinks you’re with Rydal for his money, it’s not the first time you’ve heard it nor is it the first time he’s made a snide pass at you for not belonging. That was something you were still struggling to get over, but seeing as it was only Chester you were hearing it from for the time being and not anyone of importance to you, you would brush off his comments, regardless of how much the thought pissed you off. Rydal never fed into his shit, easily telling him off in one way or another before you could even get a word in and you were grateful that he often didn’t even bring it up to you. It didn’t stop it from bothering you though. 

No, what shocks you is that this is his weird attempt at hitting on you… you think. If this was Chester’s way of showing interest, this was frankly the most insulting way to go about it. Did this work on other girls? He basically called himself a flavour you could try out, if you were so inclined. Which, honestly, repulsed you. It’s as if the personification of unseasoned baked potatoes was smirking at you, thinking he had you good, thinking he had fed you a great line. 

You were too stunned to answer for a moment too long it seemed, and unfortunately, Chester took this as permission to close the distance between you and plant a kiss right on your lips. You didn’t even have time to fully comprehend the slimy feeling of his mouth on yours, his tongue already trying to push its way through the seam of yours before he was abruptly pulled off of you. 

Rydal had torn Chester off of you, one hand on his shoulder whirling his body around to face him and, without hesitation, swinging a fist into his face. 

The crunching sound wasn’t pleasant.

Your mind was running to catch up to the scene unfolding before you, your heart pounding in fear of all the worst case scenarios, and you were frozen in your spot against the tree. Blood, and lots of it, ruined Chester’s pristine white shirt, dripping down his face from where his nose was bleeding. It was pretty satisfying. 

There was yelling, on both sides. Rydal was fuming, you’d never heard his voice so loud, never seen his eyes look so dark before and it startled you. He was yelling something about not touching you, not touching what was his. 

Another attempted swing from Rydal before Chester flung himself back to avoid it. Another bout of yelling, this time from Chester, a few well-selected nasty words about trailer trash and proving a point. He agilely threw his own arm and successfully landed it into Rydal’s jaw, finally causing your paralysis to break. 

Running forward to step in between them before either of them could charge at each other again, you looked to see Rydal touching his bleeding lip, turning to spit the excess blood out before glaring at his friend. Well. Former friend? 

“Come on, let’s go, stop it!” you found your voice, pushing against Rydal’s chest as he was gearing up to throw his arms at the taller boy again. “We’re leaving!”

You grabbed both your bags, essentially pulling on his arm to forcefully drag him with you, away from the cussing and bloody mess that was Chester. He probably had a broken nose. 

///

The walk back to Rydal’s dorm was uncomfortably silent, which was unusual for the two of you. Silence was usually comfortable, albeit not common. You didn’t say anything when he took your bags from you, you didn’t say anything as he mumbled awkward apologies to you under his breath about the long forgotten coffee, and you didn’t say anything when he put his hand on the small of your back ushering you in his room first.

There was a faint glow coming from his window, the last bit of sunlight left in the sky barely illuminating the room and you didn’t feel like switching on his harsh desk lamp. It wasn’t like you were going to get much studying done tonight anyway, and the thought of a movie was far from your mind.

When he sat on his neatly made bed in a huff, you wordlessly went to the bathroom to wet a towel for the dried blood on his hand and face. Although Chester was in much worse shape, you still wanted to tend to your lover’s wounds, no matter how small. He didn’t look at you until you pushed your way to stand between his legs, his knees outside your knees. You gently take hold of one hand, palm to palm, and examine the damage, swiping at the blood to make sure none of it is his. It wasn’t. His beautiful hands are unmarred, and you sigh a breath of relief at that. 

This is the most tender you’ve probably ever been with him, apart from the moments after he fucked you too dumb to be mean to him. The silence blanketed you both, only amplifying your actions. His shoulders sagged and what was only minutes felt like hours. Rydal had nowhere else to look other than you and your smaller hands, gently wiping his clean of the blood that was spilled, that he spilled, for you. 

Once his hands were sufficiently unblemished by your standards and the rag was stained pink, you chanced a look at his face, catching him already gazing at you a little warily. Like a little boy, like he was waiting for your disappointment and lecturing. Reaching a hand up to cup his cheek, you smiled a little achingly at him before your eyes caught the droplet of blood delicately sitting on his now busted bottom lip. His poor bottom lip had seen better days, no matter how many times you’d bitten it blue. You were tempted to lick his wound shut, swipe at the red liquid until his flesh was healed and the whole thing was forgotten.

He’d done it for you. 

And if that isn’t reason alone for you to give in to the raging hot desire coursing through you when you look at his split lip – for you, foryou – a physical reminder of his devotion to you, to defending you, to properly standing up for you to his childhood friend. Someone who was practically a family friend, their fathers going for weekly golf meets, their mothers organizing social mixers in the same circles.

Meeting his eyes again after staring at his mouth for too long, you finally broke the silence.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I messed up, didn’t I?” his response came out quietly.

“No! Well… yes, you made a mess of things but–” his irritated sigh cut you off, “–but, listen, he deserved it. And…”

“...and?” he’s waiting for your next words like they have the power to dictate whether he’ll be able to sleep tonight. 

“Andifounditkindahot.”

“Sorry,” he laughed in disbelief, the stretch of his smile causing his lip to split further and the droplet of blood you were fixated on to spill over, “what was that? You found it what?”

The hand that was holding his face slipped further to entangle itself in his dark locks, and you tilted his face up towards yours none too gently, the angle making his Adam's apple more pronounced and inviting.

“I said, I found it kinda hot, you dumbass,” you whispered right before pressing your lips together hungrily. 

It was obscene, really, the way you moaned when the distinct taste of copper reached your tongue. If he felt any pain from the press of your mouth, it was only serving to intensify his feelings in that moment, his tongue fighting for dominance with your own in a surprising show of fervor at such a time.

Your mouths moved against each other in raw passion and you leaned into his greedy touch, his hands clutching, clenching, constricting your waist. Any residual anger that was left in Rydal’s body was currently being used to turn you inside out with just one kiss, working in tandem with his ability to render you breathless. He was quick to flip you over, pinning you under him with his body while still devouring your lips. If this was his way of reclaiming you, the fucked up carnal part of your brain was egging him on, thrilled at the prospect of his tangible protectiveness. 

When you inevitably broke apart for air, you dumbly noticed that he wasn’t bleeding anymore, the faintest memory of a voice – your mother’s, put pressure on the wound – telling you how to stop blood flow in an emergency popping up in your mind before you met his eyes again. Sharing the same ragged breath, you shuffled even further into his bed making sure to hold him close the whole time.

He didn’t leave your arms for the rest of the night.

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

[whatthefishh]

Boyfriend, girlfriend

Rydal Keener x f!reader

Self indulgent sick fic, can be read as part of the Oxford Comma AU, or as a stand-alone. ❤️

Warnings: bad words. No smut, just fluff and more run on sentences 🥰

Words: 1.2k

You had missed 4 classes this week already, and it was only Wednesday. Your roommate was out gathering the notes promised to you from your classmates, desperate to be away from you while you sneezed up a storm in the congested space you were meant to share. You desperately needed a shower, having sweat through the t-shirt you were laying in, your hair matted in all directions as you tossed and turned through your illness. Why were the school distributed beds so uncomfortable? Was there a room upgrade option you didn’t know about, only available to the students who had higher up connections? You could’ve sworn Rydal’s bed was never this lumpy when you stayed the night with him.

You can’t help but wonder where Rydal is at the moment. You had told your roommate to let him know not to come by, that you weren’t in a state to see him and to just take notes during lectures for the next midterm. He had apparently taken this information well, but you’re not exactly sure how reliable of a narrator your roomie was, especially when it came to Rydal. She seemed to zone out whenever he was talking and you’re not sure if it’s because he was undeniably pretty or because he was using that voice he would slip into when he needed someone to do something for him. Bitterly, you think of how he would rather not spend his free time with a sickie like yourself, that Chester had probably taken the rare opportunity that you weren’t around to come and set up camp in his room. Might even bring a girl with him. Might bring two. Sigh.

It literally served you no purpose to be this jealous over the other girls in his circles, he’s proved himself time and time again about how he felt about you but you couldn’t help it, especially with the state you were in right now. Thank goodness he wasn’t here to see you like this. Aggressively pulling the blankets over your head and letting out a cry of frustration, you wanted to scream at how it came out entirely garbled with the way your nose was backed up.

You heard a cough from the door. A cough that suspiciously sounded like someone trying and failing to cover up a laugh.

Slowly peeling back the covers, you peeked over the huddled fabric to see none other than your boyfriend – could you even call him that, you’ve never actually said those words out loud but it was unspoken that you were his, and he yours – leaning his back against your door looking entirely too casual.

“Don’t come any closer,” you croaked out.

“Geez, she said you were in bad shape, but I wasn’t expecting you to sound like Gollum,” he sniffed, walking to your bed despite your protests. He ripped back the blanket you were slowly inching up towards your face so that only your eyes were showing and pressed the back of his hand against your forehead before frowning deeply at you. Oh, life wasn’t fair with him looking so statuesque, looming over your sweaty and disheveled form with concern in his eyes. You looked back at him dumbly, inhaling a ragged breath before coughing into your sleeve for half a minute.

When you looked back up, Rydal was walking into your bathroom, the sound of him digging through your cabinets carrying across the room until he started the shower. Emerging from the bathroom, he came back to your wide eyed self with determination set in his gaze. Usually, his features were soft around you, a small smile playing at his mouth at all times, but there was no trace of that right now. You didn’t like it.

Feeling small, like you had somehow disappointed him even in your attempt to take care of all by yourself and not bother him, you looked down avoiding his eye. He lifted you into a sitting position, blankets still wrapped around you, and kneeled in front of you before tilting your face up to look at him.

“You’re gonna go in there and take a hot shower, okay?” and he’s actually waiting for you to respond, like a child listening to a parent give them slow instructions on their first time going to the grocery store by themselves.

You nod dumbly. He starts nodding, too.

“Then when you come out, you’re going to put on clean clothes, not the t-shirt that I gave you last week–”

“Hey!”

His face broke out into a smile at that, finally getting you to rise to his bait, a flicker of yourself flashing before his eyes. When he walked in here, he was genuinely concerned for you at your lack of fight, you didn’t even have the energy to throw any of your usual verbal acid at him. Brushing your hair back gently, despite it being a mess, he nudged you towards the bathroom with a slap on your ass for good measure.

The shower admittedly felt nice, all the sweat and grime from the past day swirling down the drain as you spent an extra five minutes under the hot water, letting it soothe the ache in your muscles. Shutting the water off, you quickly grabbed the towel he had set out for you – really, where did he learn to be so considerate – to wrap yourself up in and go back to your bed.

Rydal was waiting with the pair of sweats he had gifted you after you talked mad shit about how privileged people even had better damn sweatpants than the middle class with your favourite printed t-shirt you wore to bed. Why did he have to be so observant, so much so to know which pajamas to pick out of your closet for you when you weren’t there to tell him which ones you wanted. You sat on the bed as he stood before you, barking out orders to you for you to lift your arms so he could dress you, “up!”, and you’ve never felt so small with him. If it were physically possible, you’d shrink yourself to fit in the palm of his hand just so he could keep you safe.

“There’s my girl,” and those three words had no reason to have such an effect on your mood, until he had to follow it with his usual cheek. “Not stinky anymore.”

You broke out into a fit of giggles, not able to help it at his dumb choice of words. Sometimes, he really was like a child, throwing playground insults at you in an attempt to ‘tell you he liked you’, like the bullshit the teachers would feed you after some ill-behaved kid threw sand in your face. Except this time, he wasn’t throwing sand, he was tying your hair into a bun so that you could lie against his chest without it getting in your mouth, and he was putting on your favourite movie on your laptop, and he had a cup of lemon tea waiting for you after your shower, and he had called for Chinese takeout to your dorm building, and he was kissing your forehead even when you called him stupid for staying so close to you because you were going to get him sick.

He was brittle and he was intense and deliberate in his words but he was yours. And you were his.

#oxford comma fic #rydal keener x reader #rydal keener x you #rydal keener fanfiction #rydal keener #Rydal keener fluff #idk i think i like him