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sometimesanalice · 5 months

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Between Friends

Summary: Bradley and you don’t talk about that Spring Break. But a single question asked during a night out at the Hard Deck might just change things between the two of you forever.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 11K

Warning: smut (including loss of virginity), brief mention of underage drinking, and college!bradley in a backwards hat

(Author's note: Happy Birthday Jordan! I wrote this just for you! Look at me keeping secrets from you! Enjoy!)

𝐍𝐎𝐖

Rooster couldn’t control his bouncing leg.

That night at the Hard Deck had started out like any other: good music, good drinks, good people. Over the course of the evening, he’d found himself seated between you and Bob in a lopsided circle with the rest of the Daggers around a few tall tables that had been pushed together just shooting the shit.

It was all fun and games until swapping stories about embarrassing middle school moments turned into cringing over first kiss stories turned into Seresin grinning like a shark asking about how everyone’s first time went down.

Rooster felt his pulse kick up with every collective laugh and groan as his friends went one by one sharing how they’d lost their virginities. Because with each passing story, it meant that you were one person closer to going. And for the first time in his life- even after over two decades of friendship- he didn’t know what your answer was going to be.

So he is just as shocked as his teammates are when you tentatively reveal, “So, um, my first time was with Rooster.” He doesn’t miss the way all his friends’ heads snap towards him.

All eyes are on the two of you, and you’re pointedly looking anywhere but him.

Rooster had been anxiously waiting to hear the story of your first official time, the one that was with someone who wasn’t him. He didn’t realize that you still considered him your first. He’d figured that part of your history had long been overwritten by whoever had been lucky enough to catch your eye and make your heart race in a romantic way.

The two of you had never talked about it in the after.

Not once, not ever.

He didn’t care that people knew, he just wasn’t expecting it.

Jake starts the group out of its stunned silence by slapping a heavy hand on top of the table, nearly sending some bottles to the floor, “I knew it! I knew y’all couldn’t have been friends all this time and not have tried it out at least once.”

“Jesus Christ, dude, chill,” Javy mutters. He’s always been the better of the two about reading the room.

Trying to spare you from being put on the spot even more than you already were now, Rooster mumbles through the way he’d lost his to a girl from his AP Econ class after a playoff baseball game.

He stares at the way you’re nervously picking at the label of the Blue Moon he’d grabbed for you when he went to get a refill of his own. He can practically hear the way your brain is buzzing. He wonders if you wish you could take back the words from where they are sitting on the table with the collection of bottles and peanut shells for everyone to see.

Bob being the team player that he is starts talking about how he’d lost his one summer in college to another camp counselor, going into more detail than he’s ever given before, probably trying to redirect the attention to himself to give the two of you a moment to regroup.

Rooster makes a mental note to tell Penny to put all of Bob’s cream sodas from now on on his own tab.

He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do here. Or where to look. Or where to put his hands. He wants to talk to you, but there’s no good way for him to go about it without drawing even more attention to the two of you.

You were supposed to be going on a first date tonight, but he’d talked you into canceling to hang out with him instead. He likes having all of your attention on him. And maybe he’s been a little selfish with you, because he doesn’t like to share you with anyone else. You’ve always been his best friend.

Rooster likes that he gets to talk to you whenever he wants now, and that it doesn’t feel like a never-ending game of catch up anymore. In the year since the Uranium mission, he’d felt like all the fragmented pieces of his life had finally come together. He’d reconnected with Mav, he was living in the same city as his best friend, and he had a place he could finally call home.

He didn’t just want the highlights with you, he wanted everything in between too. There’s no more distance due to time zones and scheduling times to call because now you only live 20 minutes away from him. And the next time he comes home from a deployment, he knows he’ll get to look forward to seeing you there waiting for him.

He feels like he’s learned so much more about the grown-up version of you over the last year than he has in the last ten.

Jake jumps in barely a breath after Bob finishes telling his story. “Well, we all know it’s not the first who matters, but who was the best.” Rooster doesn’t trust the gleam in his eyes or the sharp smile on his face. “Since Bradshaw cut you off before, how’s about you go first this time, darlin’. You can tell us about who knocked your socks off. Maybe this time he’ll let you finish, if you know what I mean.”

It’s thinly veiled snooping disguised as chivalry, and it doesn’t fool anyone. Nat’s eyes dart to him briefly, trying to get a read on him.

He’d been 21 at the time. And while he knows more now that he did then, he also knows his name isn’t going to be coming out of your mouth for a second time tonight.

Rooster takes a sip of his beer, needing something to do.

He knows you’ve been with other people. You’d lived with your ex for over a couple years, for fuck's sake. But it was like an unspoken agreement between the two of you to not talk about your sex lives with each other.

His leg starts bouncing again and he realizes he really doesn’t want to hear this. Not because of his ego, but because he doesn’t know what to do about the knot that’s formed in his stomach.

Your mouth opens and closes a couple times before you speak, “That title would also go to Rooster.” The admission is soft, but sure.

Where his heart had been pounding before, now it feels like it had stopped completely.

It’s been 13 years since that Spring Break. 13 years and he’s still your best?

Barely five minutes ago, he hadn’t known where to look. But now? Now he couldn’t stop staring at you.

He just didn’t understand why you still wouldn’t look at him back.

𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊, 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟎

When you’d floated the idea by Bradley about visiting him at UVA for Spring Break during your weekly phone call, you’d been braced for the disappointment of him already having plans. It was his Senior year, it wouldn’t surprise you if he wanted to go out with a bang and make the most of it. Especially since he would belong to the Navy soon enough.

But he’d taken you by surprise when he started enthusiastically listing off all the places he wanted to show you, planning out your trip like a well-seasoned travel agent before you’d even booked a plane ticket.

You’d started looking up airfare before you’d even hung up the phone. And thirty minutes later you had a confirmation email flagged in your inbox after elatedly charging that aisle seat to the credit card you only used for emergencies.

It had been close to a year since you’d last seen him. He usually spent his Winter Break with your family, but this year he’d stayed on campus for the holidays and it was the longest the two of you had ever been apart since you’d first met him when you were 8.

And maybe that’s why it took you so long to spot him in the Arrivals area of the Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport.

You’ve always prided yourself in being able to pick Bradley out of a crowd anywhere, but in your cursory glance you hadn’t recognized the tall, broad guy with the UVA shirt pulled taut across his chest and wearing a baseball hat backward on his head. It wasn’t until your third searching pass that you’d caught the lips that were quirked up in amusement and those familiar brown eyes trained on you as he leaned ever-so-casually against the faux wood paneling on the wall waiting for you to notice him.

He’d filled out in the months since you’d last seen him. He was more toned than you remembered him being with definition in places where there hadn’t been before. His face had more distinct angles and less baby fat cushioned curves. Still a bit boyish, but he was well on his way to looking like a man.

Bradley raised his hand like he was going to wave, but then he’d mimicked casting a fishing line in your direction and reeling it in. And it was so endearingly stupid- so him- that you couldn’t help but take the bait and made your way towards him with the biggest grin on your face.

You’d ignored the jittery flutter in your stomach as you’d weaved between people and luggage. You’ve never been nervous around your best friend before. There was something that had on your mind a lot as the days to your visit inched closer, but you’d shoved that out of your mind, because you were finally standing in front of him in person for the first time in months.

“Hey, kid,” he’d greeted you, taking your bag, “Charlottesville must have known you were coming, because she’s going to be sunny for you all week.” As soon as you were within arm’s reach, he tugged you right into his chest for a hug. You could feel the unspoken I missed you in the way he squeezed you just that bit tighter before releasing you.

Then he was dropping an arm over your shoulders and steering you towards the exit and driving you into town in the beat-up car he’d bought after selling his prized Montero, the car that Mav had given him for his birthday.

You’re only there for a week and Bradley doesn’t waste a single moment of it.

After dropping your things off in his dorm room, he takes you straight to campus where he gives you the Official Bradley Bradshaw Certified UVA Tour. He buys you lunch from one of the food trucks in the Amphitheater “for sustenance” before taking you to see the highlights. You start with the Rotunda and then the academic village, making a special pitstop at the Whispering Wall for you to tell it a secret. And then he takes you on a more historical tour, like showing you the exact route he used to streak The Lawn and pointing out the place he’d puked after his 21st birthday.

It’s clear he’d put so much thought into your visit because it seems like there is never a down moment. By the end of the third day you’re more surprised that you don't wake up every morning with a printed itinerary on your pillow.

He sneaks you into the Slaughter Rec Center to rock climb, claiming he had a person on the inside with the right connections. But really from what you could tell, the pretty girl at the check-in counter clearly had a crush on him. He takes you to the batting cages he likes to go to before Dead Week, and spends the time there equal parts making fun of your power swing and trying to fix it.

You get your revenge the next day standing outside of the imposing columns and massive doors to the Fralin Art Museum. Skeptically eyeing the sculpture in the front of the building that kind of looked like a giant wisdom tooth, you mentioned, “I didn’t realize you’d become such a patron of the cultural arts.”

“Hey now, I like artsy shit,” he’d said, only mildly affronted.

You snorted at that. “Is there an exhibit on beer pong and blunt rolling you wanted to see?” Through the window you’d spotted some large landscape oil paintings in ornate gilded frames and carved marble busts of what you assumed were probably of some of the Founding Fathers.

“You just missed that one, it was last month,” Bradley lobbed back, opening the door for you.

“What a pity,” you’d said with a dramatic sigh, “Guess we’ll have to settle for some tasteful nudes instead.”

“If we’re lucky,” he’d muttered under his breath, as you passed under his arm.

And then you’d felt the corners of your mouth kick up.

Turning around you’d pressed your finger to his chest, whispering so the person behind the ticket desk didn’t hear you, “Twenty bucks says you don’t make it thirty minutes in there.”

He narrowed his eyes, taking in your sly grin, “You’re on, kid.”

It’s the easiest $20 you’ve ever made.

The two of you call it a truce only after he tips your kayak into the still chilly Rivanna River.

Later that night, he takes you to a party on “Mad Bowl” that one of his frat friends was hosting. The backyard was all strung up with red and green Christmas lights like they had been too lazy to take them down after the holidays and decided it added to the outdoor ambiance instead of packing them away.

He was still just as protective over you as he was back in high school. Spending the whole night keeping an eye on you and handing you drinks that he’d uncapped himself using the opener that he had on his keychain, the one that still had the little fighter jet charm you’d given him ages ago dangling from it.

The days pass all too quickly as he shows you all of his favorite spots.

You knew UVA wasn’t where he’d originally wanted to be- where he thought he’d be- but you were happy that he seemed happy here.

But in between the late-night microwave ramen and movie watching and crossing off all the things on Bradley’s Spring Break To-Do List, there’d been something you’d been wanting to talk to him about. But you were having so much fun with him, you’d missed your best friend over those long months apart, and you didn’t want to ruin the time you had left with him here.

It lingered at the back of your mind like a phantom hair that you can feel, but can’t ever seem to brush off no matter how many times you attempt to. You felt like you were waiting for the right time that you weren’t sure would ever come. And if you were being honest, you weren’t entirely sure you would even be brave enough to ask if the time came.

The two of you had woken up way before the sun this morning.

If anyone other than Bradley had asked you to wake up before 5 AM to go hike to watch the sunrise, you would have laughed at them. But because it was Bradley, you’d set the alarm without comment. Even though he did have to gently pry you out of his roommate’s bed- with the fresh sheets he told you he bought especially for your visit- and lace up your shoes for you.

The views at Humpback Rock had been worth the hour hike up to the outcrop of craggy rocks. The sunrise painted them a stunning shade of soft orange as the rays illuminated evergreen covered hills and valleys that extended in front of you to the skyline. You and Bradley watched it in silence, shoulders pressed against each other as you took it all in.

You’re cozied up on your bed for the week, flipping through a book you’d brought with you, but hadn’t touched at all until now when Bradley comes back from the showers. His hair is still damp and the ends are starting to curl a bit.

He drops a Styrofoam cup of coffee on the nightstand next to you.

You hadn’t been sure what rooming with him would be like, the two of you together 24/7 since his roommate had left to go home for the break. But it felt like you were two kids at sleepaway camp getting away with mischief rather than two broke college students only pretending to get away with mischief.

He sits down at the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his thighs, “So.”

“So?” you repeat, blowing on the hot coffee before taking a sip.

“Are you going to tell me what’s been up with you?”

You wince, and it’s not because the coffee tastes like tar.

“What do you mean?” you try to ask casually.

Bradley gives you a look that says you don’t fool me, kid. “You’ve been squirrely. I didn’t want to press it, but I can tell there’s something on your mind.” He takes a sip of his own milky battery acid. “Are classes going better since you switched majors?”

You nod, looking anywhere else other than at him.

“How are things with your Dad?”

You offer him a shrug.

He sighs your name in exasperation. You can tell he is trying to tamper his frustration at your lack of cooperation.

“Is it a guy?” Bradley tries again.

You swear you feel your heart stop, because you knew what you wanted to ask him, but you didn’t know how he was going to take it.

You fiddle with a string on his roommate’s comforter. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” you admit, tentatively, “But I’m nervous.”

Bradley’s eyebrows pull together as he sets his coffee aside, “C’mon, it’s just me. You can talk to me about anything.”

“It’s more of a question.” One you’re still deflecting from asking.

“Ok, well you know you can ask me anything.” His tiny dorm room feels even smaller as the two of you try to read the other’s face.

Taking a deep breath, you ask the question that’s been rattling around in your brain for weeks.

“Bradley, I was wondering if you’d be my first?”

Less than ten words. That’s all it takes to tilt Bradley’s world off its axis.

He’s loved getting to show you around UVA this week. It wasn’t where he thought he’d end up, but he hadn’t lost sight of where he was going. He was going to be a Naval Aviator one way or another. He just also got to have a normal college experience too, one he’d been excited to share with you.

Bradley had originally been invited to go stay with one of his friends at his family’s beach house, but when you called and asked about coming to visit Charlottesville, it was an easy choice for him. He’d pick you every time.

It had been even better getting to cross off some of the things on the bucket list he’d made for his Senior Year with you in tow, like the hike he’d taken you on this morning.

He loves the views from up there and thought it would be something you’d like too, but he’d never done the hike early enough to catch the sunrise before. It was actually something he was planning on going the morning of graduation as a symbolic way to end his time at UVA, but getting to do it with you was special in its own way.

And while he’d caught you lost in thought more than a few times over the last few days as he showed you around, he never in a million years would have ever expected you to ask him that.

Bradley knows all the words you just used, but they don’t make sense to him in that order.

His brain is working in overdrive trying to figure out if there is any possible way he could have misinterpreted you.

“Your first…”

You take another deep breath and tip your chin up in resolve before looking him dead in the eye, there’s so much vulnerability reflected in them, “I haven’t had sex before, Bradley. And I’m really hoping that my first time can be with you.”

Bradley wants to tell you to put your Styrofoam cup down because he’s worried the tight grip you have on it might crush it, but he feels like the wind has been knocked out of him.

He didn’t realize when his leg started bouncing until he sees you glance down at it.

Shooting to his feet and off his bed, he goes to lean against his recently decluttered desk. There’s too much restless energy coursing through him to just sit like he isn’t completely reeling.

“Shouldn’t you want to do this with someone special? Like with rose petals and all that shit?” He scrubs a hand over his face. Rose petals and all that shit? God, he sounds like such a fucking dumbass, but he’s struggling to keep up.

And if he’s being entirely honest, he’s pretty surprised to learn you’re still a virgin. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but he knows you’ve had at least one serious boyfriend since you’ve gone to college. He figured that you got asked out all the time. He saw the way that some of the guys in his buddy’s frat were looking at the pretty girl with the dimples and big smile.

The girl who just asked him to be her first.

He hates the way your shoulders have slumped forward, like you’re trying not to cave in on yourself, “So, you don’t want to?”

“I didn’t say that.” His answer takes him by surprise.

The only other sound in the room other than his pounding heart is the whir of the air circulating in his dorm.

“Would it help to make a pro con list?” you offer, less than helpfully with a little shrug.

“Jesus Christ,” Bradley mutters under his breath, looking up at the speckled ceiling trying to decode the flecks like tea leaves. “She’s cracking jokes like she didn’t ask me to make her come.”

“Technically, I didn’t say anything about that. I just asked you to be my first.”

“I’m not taking your virginity and not giving you an orgasm,” he states, and your eyes get wide. He runs his hands through his hair. “Sex makes things complicated, kid. We’ve got a good friendship.”

You sit up straighter on his roommate’s bed and bring your knees to your chest. It exposes the backs of your thighs and he has to shake the mental images of skin on skin out of his head.

There’s a look on your face that tells him you feel ridiculous even asking him, “Do you think you’re going to fall in love with me or something?”

“No,” Bradley says, honestly.

He knows you’re just trying to make a point.

The two of you have been friends for over a decade. He knows he cares about you- he always has- but he couldn’t imagine what anything other than just friendship would look like with you.

You nod in agreement, like you had been anticipating the answer before you’d even asked him the question.

“And do you think I’m going to fall in love with you?” you ask, your head tilting to the side.

He doesn’t even blink, “You can do better than me.”

And he means it.

Even if there was something more between the two of you, you’ve always been too good for him. And knowing him, he’d find a way to fuck it up. You’re the last person in the world he’d ever want to hurt. He’d let you down before, he doesn’t want to do it ever again.

You shoot him a disappointed look, like you don’t like hearing him say that about himself. And he’s oddly touched that you’re defending him against himself.

“You’d literally be doing me a favor.”

Bradley is still surprised that he hasn’t ended this conversation yet. The two of you were supposed to go to the movies, but that definitely wasn’t happening now.

“I’m not saying no,” he says, “But I need you to help me understand. Why me? Why now?”

“Bradley, I want it to be with you because there’s no one else I’ll ever feel as comfortable with as I do with you,” you explain.

He watches as you unfold yourself and climb off the bed, coming to stand in front of him. You gingerly reach out and put your hand on his forearm, like you don’t want to startle him. Not that he’d be able to move anyways since it feels like the soles of his feet are cemented to the floor.

“I keep waiting for it to not feel like such a big thing, but every time it seems like it’s going to happen, I freeze. And I know you’d take care of me, and I’m not talking about orgasms.” You stumble over the word a bit, not fully meeting his eyes as you say it. “It’s scary enough as a girl and I’m worried I’m going to be too in my head with anyone else. But I also don’t want to look back and have any regrets, and I know I wouldn’t have any with you.”

The mention of regrets makes his stomach twinge. His heart feels like it’s hammering in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say.

You are looking at him with such open sincerity. He has never been good with talking about his feelings, he’s always been the type to bottle things up, while you have always worn your heart on your sleeve. It was just another way that you were braver than him.

“I know it’s a lot,” you say, letting go of him to take a step back, like you want to give him breathing room, “So if it’s too big of an ask. Or if it’s not something you’re comfortable with-”

Bradley shakes his head cutting you off, “It’s not that at all, kid. I just haven’t done this before.” Your eyebrow scrunches together in confusion. “I mean, I have,” he corrects, “But it’s not the same. All the girls I’ve been with had already had experience. And if we were going to do this, I would want to make sure it’s as nice for you as it can be.”

“So you’d be my first and I’d be yours? Well, kind of.” You give him a little smile, it’s a shy but hopeful thing. There’s only a hint of your dimples, but it’s enough. And he feels that practical part of him that had been holding back soften at the sight of it.

He doesn’t think he’s ever said no to you, excluding the times you tried to get him to give you his beer at the house parties he took you to in high school, and that was more out of self-preservation from a healthy fear of your mom than anything else.

When you wanted to learn how to drive a stick shift? He took you to the abandoned parking lot, it didn’t matter that you didn’t have your learner’s permit yet. When you wanted to learn how to throw a punch? He was making sure you knew not to tuck your thumb under your fingers, so that you didn’t break your own thumb instead of someone’s nose.

He’s always had your back and you’ve had his. That’s how it was between the two of you.

You’ve already said it, but he needs to hear it again, “You really want to do it?”

“I really want it to be you, Bradley. I really want to do this with you. I trust you the most.”

He’s always been willing to help you with anything you’ve ever asked of him, why should this be any different? What’s a couple orgasms between friends?

“Ok,” Bradley nods. If it’s to reassure you or himself, he couldn’t say. “I’ll do it. We can do it.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, like you were fully prepared for him to let you down gently, “Really?”

You didn’t ask for his why he was agreeing, but he was going to give it to you anyway.

“I don’t think I’ve told you this, but I lost mine to Samantha Prescod after the game against Centennial that got us a spot at State that year,” he waits until he sees the recognition cross your face before continuing, “But I had also just learned about my mom’s diagnosis and I was trying to find anything I could do to not think about it.” He rubs at a spot underneath his collarbone, it never got any easier talking about his mom. “I think she assumed that I’d done it before, because we didn’t really talk about it. She was there and into it, so it just sort of happened. Actually, I’m pretty sure she only slept with me because she wanted to make her ex-boyfriend jealous, because they got back together like three days later.”

It’s probably for the best that Samantha Prescod lives on the other side of the country now because you look livid. Your eyes spark with anger and disbelief on his behalf.

“It was years ago, it’s fine, kid” he shrugs, trying to brush off your concern. “But if I had a do-over, I don’t know if I’d make the same choice again. And that’s not something I’d ever want for you.” You deserve the rose petals, but he’ll do his best for you. “So we can do it, but I have one condition.”

The relief on your face and the way the tension in your shoulder releases only solidifies his decision.

“Tell me,” you say, taking a half-step towards him, “I want you to be comfortable too.”

Bradley pushes off his desk and meets you the rest of the way, “If you even think you’re feeling uncomfortable- about any of it- I need you to tell me. And we’ll stop and figure out where to go from there. If it’s a change of position, if it’s a full stop and order pizza instead, we’ll do that.” He pauses and reaches out to tip your chin up. “I’ll do whatever you need, got it?”

You throw your arms around him, and his wrap around you just as easily. Your hair smells like the travel sized shampoo he’d picked up for you, figuring you wouldn’t want to use his 2-in-1. You murmur your thank you into his shirt followed by a fuck Samantha Prescod that makes him squeeze you just a bit tighter to him in affection.

When you step back and look at him, your lips twitch upwards, “What’s with the look, Bradshaw? Don’t tell me you’re going to lie back and think of England?”

That makes him chuckle, your joke lightening the mood in only the way that you can do. He rolls his eyes in equal parts exasperation and fondness.

“God, I haven’t been this nervous since I lost my own virginity. I was so stressed I was going to blow my load in two pumps and lose my street cred.”

You snort and send him a smirk, “Well, you must have done just fine. I overheard some glowing reviews in the girl’s bathroom on more than one occasion.”

“I maybe lasted ten trusts, but I had the good sense to eat her out after,” he admits, and then tacks on for good measure, “I’ve gotten better since then.”

“What a stud,” you tease.

This is easier, this feels like the two of you. This should be fun, it shouldn’t feel serious. He can make it good for you.

You look up at him shyly from under your lashes, “So how do we do this?”

He feels like he only just wrapped his head around the idea of it, but now he was facing the very real possibility of seeing you very naked very soon.

“You want to do it now?” Bradley blinks.

“I mean, if you’re up for it.” You scrunch your nose when you realize you’ve made a terrible double entendre. “No pun intended, I promise.”

He wipes his hands on his pants.

“You sure?” he asks again.

“I’m sure, Bradley. As long as you are too.”

He nods, “Then I guess we just…”

He’s not sure where he was going to go with that. But he’s spared from being roasted by you for making some sure to be lame birthday suit joke because you’re untying the bow on the soft lounge shorts you’d thrown on after your shower from the hike, and all the words get trapped in his throat.

You don’t look at Bradley as you slide your shorts down your legs. And you definitely don’t look at him when you pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in only a soft green mesh bra and your cotton underwear. They’re mismatched, but sex with Bradley wasn’t originally on the Spring Break To-Do List agenda for today.

In fact, you hadn’t even been sure you were going to go through with asking him until he brought up the point that he knew you had something on your mind because you apparently had no poker face.

While it felt like you had a swarm of butterflies whirling in your stomach, you also knew wholeheartedly that this was the right choice for you. Everything he had said had solidified that for you.

You weren’t sure how you were ever going to thank him for this, but you had a lifetime of friendship with Bradley to figure it out.

His room cast in the soft afternoon light, the blinds only partly closed. There are little streaks of gold that line the plaid comforter on his bed. He’d been right, Charlottesville had stayed sunny just for you.

As you climb into it and situate yourself against his pillows, you can help but notice just how much his bed smells like him. It’s not the spicy scent you associated with the High School version of him. The woodsy and warm scent embedded in the threads of his sheets suits this grown up version of him.

You feel equal parts overdressed and underdressed in your bra and underwear. You know the latter are going to come off eventually, so you make a split-second decision to just take them off yourself under his covers. The idea of Bradley helping you to pull them off later seems like it would be too intimate based on the way the thought of it makes your cheeks heat up.

It’s practical, you’re being practical, you think to yourself.

You chance a peek at him and are surprised to see that he hasn’t budged an inch. It’s almost like he is waiting for you to get completely settled before he dares to move a muscle. His eyes are trained on the pile of your clothes on the floor, he looks lost in thought.

“Bradley?”

The sound of your voice seems to kickstart him into action.

He shucks off his shirt in that kind of reckless way that seems to be ingrained in boys and then unbuttons his pants. You’re torn between feeling like you should give him privacy and wanting to watch. What you were expecting is the way he takes the time to pick his clothes up before folding them over the back of the chair at his desk.

Your mouth goes dry as you take in the sight of his body, the diffused light perfectly outlines the shape of him. His broad shoulders are rounded with the muscles he’s gained from whatever exercises the NROTC has been putting him through. Your eyes dip down to his defined chest and over the ridges of his abs. You’ve seen him in swim trunks plenty of times, but seeing the way the muscles of his thick thighs fill out the black boxer briefs he was wearing was entirely new to you.

Bradley approaches you and then pauses as he bends down to collect your pile of clothes on the floor, his hand hesitating only for a second when he reaches for your underwear. He drapes all of your things on top of his on the chair and makes his way back to you.

The gesture makes you melt a little like a soft serve ice cream cone on a summer afternoon.

You lift the corner of the cover for Bradley and he climbs in next to you. You move closer to the wall, trying to make more room for the bulk of him in his small bed, and he shifts in even closer into you until your bodies pressed tight against one another. The curves and angles of the two of you slotting together like pieces of a puzzle.

It feels like the two of you are teetering there on the edge of something. You both know exactly where it’s going, but are unsure of how to make it from Point A to Point B. Both waiting on the other person to make the first move.

He rests his warm hand on your stomach, the muscles there jumping on their own under his touch in anticipation. Your faces are close since you’re sharing his pillow. His brown eyes are searching yours, probably looking for any sign of hesitation that you don’t feel.

“Tell me how you’re feeling.” It’s not a question, but a request.

“Overwhelmed,” you admit, “But in a good way.” He runs his palm lightly up your stomach and back down, soothingly.

“Good, that’s good,” Bradley says, clearing his throat, “You’re supposed to feel a little ‘overwhelmed, but in a good way.’” You feel your lips pull up at his gentle teasing.

He smiles softly at you. His face has always been so familiar to you. The pink from his scars have finally faded, but you wonder when his eyes start crinkling around the corners.

You let go of the comforter to run a finger down the top of his nose, “I don’t know how this has stayed so straight.” He’d been in more than a couple fights in his teen years, including one that had sent him through a sliding glass door.

“Probably the combination of a little luck and the fact that none of those guys could throw a punch,” Bradley smirks. He shifts on his side, propping himself up on an elbow looking down at you, still running his hand along your stomach. “What have you done so far?”

His fingertips circle your bellybutton and your stomach swoops like it’s on the swing carousel ride at the fair.

“Some over the clothes stuff…” you stammer. You’re having trouble focusing because all your attention is on his big hand and how it feels against your oversensitive skin. “And I have a vibrator, but ah…”

You’re so keenly aware of his hand. With every lazy circle he makes, he has you wondering if this is going to be the one where he finally moves his hand lower. That part of you in flutters in expectation because you know it’s coming.

You let out a shaky huff when his fingers trails back up your stomach.

“What is it?” Bradley’s hand stops moving. “What are you thinking?”

“Honestly?” you say, trying not to squirm, “I’m getting really horny and you keep teasing me.”

He presses his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh at your overshare, and there’s amusement in his eyes.

“You know, some people call it foreplay,” he drawls. You’d roll your eyes but his fingertips are by your bellybutton again and you want him to keep going. “You ready for more?” You nod a few times because if he doesn’t touch you soon you might just crawl out of your skin. “Ok, gonna stop ‘teasing’ you now.”

This time his hand doesn’t stop at your bellybutton, it keeps moving down, down.

You stutter over a breath when Bradley’s fingers touch your clit. You feel yourself melt a little further into his mattress. He’s making easy circles, letting you get used to someone’s fingers other than your own on the most sensitive part of you. Your hands are clutching tightly to his comforter, unsure of what else to do with them.

“Spread your legs a little wider for me,” he murmurs. You feel your face heat up. He’d just given you a direction, but it sounds almost indecent coming out of his mouth.

You shift, moving your legs apart further for him, until he secures your left between his own, opening you up even more. You know you’re wet and now he does too. Bradley’s fingers slide easily over you as he increases the pressure on your clit. You can feel the intensity of his gaze on you watching for your reaction as he figures out what you like the most.

It doesn’t take him long to learn your body. You don’t know whether to be impressed with him or embarrassed with yourself at how quickly he’s worked you up.

Your breathing feels so loud in your ears in the quiet room, every breath and sigh is amplified. There’s a certain thrill in not knowing how he’s going to touch you next, your own fingers pale in comparison now.

His warm breath coasts down the side of your neck causing you to shiver at the sensation. It makes goosebumps break out along your arms and your nipples pull taut.

He notices. Of course he notices.

“Are you cold?” His voice is low in your ear.

“No, I-” Oh god, you’re right there. “B-bradley, I’m-” You’ve made yourself orgasm plenty of times, but you’ve never shared that part of yourself with anyone else before. No one knows what you sound like or what you look like when you come. But now, Bradley was going to have the piece of you too. A whine escapes you without your permission.

“It’s ok, kid, I’ve got you.”

You’re seeking and searching, but it’s Bradley’s fingers that have the answer.

And you come with your stomach twitching and hips jerking as he murmurs praise in your ear.

His fingers slow down, featherlight on your clit, but your heart is still racing when he rasps, “There’s one, you up for another?”

Bradley loves that moment during sex when he hears that first gasp or moan. He loves learning what sounds of satisfaction he can pull from his partner. He loves knowing he earned it. But he never in his life could have ever anticipated hearing those sounds from you.

In his bed. Because of him.

He didn’t expect the lick of heat that curled up his spine at the shape of your legs and the curve of your ass as you were stepping out of your shorts. He’d never seen anything so strangely endearing as it was watching you shimmy your underwear off under the shield of his covers.

Every hitch in your breath made his blood run hotter in his veins. He was trying to control his cock, but he’d started getting hard the second you’d pulled your shirt off. Your bra was some kind of sheer thing that left nothing to the imagination, and while he wasn’t trying to check you out- because that’s not how it was between the two of you- he couldn’t help the way his eyes flickered down.

You’re slippery, wet, and warm. And he knows he can make you come again.

“Do you want me to use my fingers now?”

You crack an eye open at him, it’s the first time you’ve opened your eyes since he first touched you. Your eyes are bright in that way that only comes with an orgasm. “I thought you already were.”

“Such a smartass,” he grins.

Bradley changes the unhurried circles he’d been making on your clit to the upstroke that made your hips jerk up into his hand the first time he’d tried it. The little noises you’re making have him fighting the urge to grind himself against you for some relief of his own. He’s still got your knee tucked between his own; where there had been a hint of polite space between your bodies, the way you’re writhing now has him pressed up against your hip.

You gasp, breathily, “Oh, you’re hard.” The disbelief is evident in your voice, but it’s the look in your eyes that he doesn’t know what to make of, something like surprise.

He’s been trying to be a gentleman, this is about you and not him. There might not be anything romantic happening between the two of you, but this was hot and he was more than a little turned on. And he knows you are too because he can feel how wet you are under his fingers.

“’Course I am,” Bradley says, nudging his nose against your temple, “I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed half naked.” He didn’t want you to feel like you were in this on your own, so he lightly rocks against you. He wants you to feel him, he wants you to know he is into this too. “Are you ready more?”

“I’m ready, I want more,” you confirm, wrapping your hand around his bicep.

Your breath hitches as he teases you with just the tip of his finger.

He’s been told before he has big hands and thick fingers, he’s always taken it as a compliment in the past, but now he’s scanning your face for any trace of discomfort as he sinks one into you.

Your eyebrows twitch then smooth out and your mouth drops open as he starts pumping his finger into you in a smooth rhythm.

“That feels nice,” you sigh, airily.

He knows you like it when your hips tip up just a fraction. His comforter is bunched around your waist and your nipples are peaked against the see-through fabric of your bra. He gets his thumb on your clit and you whimper as you tentatively roll your hips against his fingers.

Bradley hums his approval, “Atta girl. There you go, find what feels good for you.” His voice sounds low even to his own ears, a throaty rumble. He feels you clench around his fingers and it sets his pulse racing. It’s a piece of information he tucks away for himself.

He’s gentle on your clit, but now that he knows you’re into it he’s setting a more purposeful pace with his fingers.

You’ve got your bottom lip pinned between your teeth, like you’re trying to swallow down your sounds. He didn’t realize how much he liked hearing these new sounds from you until you started trying to muffle them. On the next slide of his finger into you, he knows exactly what he’s looking for.

You suck in a sharp breath of surprise when he finds it.

“Is that the right spot, kid?” He sounds so smug. You curse and your hand clutches at his shoulder. “You want to try a second finger?” he murmurs into your ear.

“Yes,” you rock into his hand, “Yes, please.”

“Whatever you want, Miss Manners.” His chest feels like he’s taken a shot of Fireball. “You’re so polite when you’re trying to get your way.”

“I’m always polite,” you challenged weakly, pressing your head further into his pillow.

“Mhm,” he indulges, fondly, “You’re the sweetest girl I know.”

And then he fills you with two fingers.

“Jesus, Bradley,” you gasp, offering more of yourself to him.

Your nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder as he lets your whimpers and whines guide his hands.

The two of you have your eyes fixed on the way the tendons of the visible part of his forearm are flexing before it disappears under the covers as he works you.

Bradley curls his fingers into that spongy part of you and your hand flies to his wrist, gripping him tight. It makes him pause, worried that he might have pushed you too far too fast.

“No, no. D-don’t stop,” you plead, desperately, “I’m so close. Keep going, please.” You squeeze his wrist encouragingly.

“Sorry, sorry,” he soothes. He focuses his efforts on that spot again now that he knows you weren’t wanting him to slow down, but rather trying to hold him in place. His fingers inside of you and his thumb on your clit working in tandem to get you there again.

“I just- yes. Like that. Oh fuck. Keep doing that. Oh my god. Please, Bradley.”

He’s heard you say his name a lot of different ways, but never like this.

Your back arches and you twist yourself towards him, burying your face against him and keening into the hollow of his throat as you come around his fingers.

You jerk and writhe into his hand, your knee slips free of his and your thighs clamp together around him. Bradley rolls off the arm he’d been leaning on and brings it to cradle the back of your head, pulling you closer and holding you to him as he steadily works you through it until you’re loose-limbed in his arms.

He waits until your rapid pants have evened out before he slips his fingers from you. The displeased sound that you make makes the corners of his mouth twitch. He should have known you’d be bossy. He rubs gentle circles into the divots at the base of your neck as you come down.

Bradley can feel your lips graze the side of his neck when you finally speak, “So, um, let me know if you need a letter of recommendation or anything. I’d be happy to pass one along to your next partner.” You languidly prop yourself up on his chest and he notes with pride that you look a little flushed. “But, seriously, I get it now.”

He huffs a laugh as he toys with the end of your hair, “I’m glad it lived up to the hype. Well, at least that part of it.”

You press your lips together like you’re deciding something, tracing idle shapes on his stomach, and he can’t decide if he thinks you’re doing it without realizing it or if you’re the one doing the teasing this time. Your eyes flick down to his visibly hard cock and he feels his face heat up, “Can I?”

“Do you want to?” Bradley wants this experience to be everything you need and want it to be, but something about the tables turning here and the idea of you being the one to touch him like that makes his heart pound.

“I want to make you feel good too,” you softly tell him, resting your chin on your shoulder. The tender way you’re looking at him makes his teeth ache.

“Ok, but only for a little bit,” he agrees. Bradley knows he’s walking a tightrope with this, he’s aching and more than ready to be touched, but he doesn’t want to come all over your hand.

He plants his feet into his mattress and lifts his hips enough to pull off his boxer briefs, sighing in relief as his cock bobs free.

“That can’t be average,” you mutter under your breath.

He doesn’t know if you meant to have said it out loud but he smirks all the same, “I’ve never been average a day in my life, kid, Grade A student here.”

A groan slips out of him as your tentative fingers grasp his cock. There’s a lack of finesse in the way you touch him, your hand isn’t nearly as well-practiced as his own. He wraps his hand over yours, guiding your strokes as he shows you just what he likes.

“You can grip it a little firmer,” he coaches. You nod studiously, like you’re going to be tested on it later. Together the two of you work him from root to tip.

Bradley had never given much thought to his size until now. He knew he was big, but seeing that your thumb couldn’t reach the tips of your fingers when your hand was curved around him was an ego boost he didn’t know he needed.

You get more confident with every glide up and down the length of him. Your tricky thumb sweeps over the tip, collecting what precum had gathered there, and it makes your hand slide easier over him. When he accidentally thrusts into your hand, you grin and there are those dimples again.

“Ok, ok,” he blows out a shaky breath, stilling your hand with his. “We gotta stop or I’m going to come. And I’m not about to be a one pump chump.”

“It sounded like you’re more of a ten pump chump, if I remember correctly,” you tease, looking all too pleased with yourself. “Don’t worry, Bradshaw, your street cred is safe with me.”

He shakes his head in amused disbelief, “You’re such a goddamn menace. I knew I shouldn’t have told you that part.” He surprises the both of you when he wraps an arm around you and rolls to pin you under him.

And it’s like all the air is sucked out of the room because your thighs are cradling his hips and his cock is resting heavy on your stomach.

Neither one of you dare to move. He’d give anything to know what you’re thinking right now, he feels out of his depth as he watches you watching him.

His tongue feels thick in his mouth, “Are you on-”

You nod before he even finishes the question.

“Do you have-”

He nods before you finish yours.

“What did you promise me?” he prompts, squeezing the dip of your waist.

You hold up your pinky to him, “I’ll tell you.” He wraps his own crooked one around yours and gives it a shake.

Bradley doesn’t know what comes over him, but he drops a kiss to your shoulder as he reaches over you into the drawer of his nightstand to fish out what he needs. He’s thankful when you don’t comment on it because he wouldn’t even know how to explain it.

He leans back on his knees and rolls the condom on with practiced ease, then flicks open the cap to the bottle of lube he’s also grabbed and drizzles it over his cock.

“Am I not…” you trail off. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound this shy with him before.

“You’re plenty wet,” he assures you, pumping himself- once, twice- just enough to coat himself, “But this’ll be good too. I think you’ll like it.”

Bradley settles back over you, one arm braced by your head and the other on your hip, as your hands come up to rest lightly on either side of his ribcage. He rocks against you to demonstrate; the head of his cock nudges your clit with each silky pass. You exhale heavily at the sensation as he eases you into the motion of it, as he shows you what it’s like with another person.

You’re holding him close, and in just a moment the two of you will be the closest two people can be.

He makes only enough room to reach down between your bodies, only looks away from your face long enough to line himself up with you. There is such trust in your eyes as you gaze up at him, it’s not something Bradley takes for granted.

You nod, your fingers stroking his sides.

God, does he want this to be good for you.

He takes a breath.

And then he’s shifting forward and pressing in.

Bradley thrusts into you with all the careful gentleness you’d expect from him.

His thumb skimming along your forehead as he pushes in, in, in.

When he found that spot inside of you with his fingers, you thought you were going to fly away from the intensity of it, but then he’d pulled you into the safety of his arms and you felt like you could fall apart because he’d be keeping the pieces of you together.

He’s been so good to you. He is so good to you. He’s the best person you know.

The more of him he gives you, the less you feel like you can catch your breath.

You feel hot, hot all over. And much fuller than you’ve ever been.

Some sound must make its way out of you because Bradley offers you a low soothing noise before you feel his lightly chapped lips against your temple.

There’s something about this that reminds you of the time he tried to teach you how to skateboard. Always waited until you told him you were ready, until you found your balance. He’d held your hand as you cautiously rolled along the sidewalk, you were less worried about falling with him by your side. Only this time, his hand is on your waist and the only movements are his hips against yours as he rocks into you.

Little by little. Inch by inch.

You clutch at his biceps at the slight stinging sensation and you feel him hesitate.

“It’s just a lot,” you whisper. His fingers flex on your waist.

“You’re doing so good, just a bit more,” Bradley murmurs, encouragingly.

There’s pressure, there’s a give, and then there’s relief when his hips finally, finally meet yours.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath.

Your eyes had flickered shut somewhere along the way. You open them to see that Bradley’s face and chest are flushed pink, the muscle of his jaw flexing. The furrow between his eyebrows is so deep that you release your grip on him to smooth out the lines with an unsteady fingertip.

He reads the question in your eyes.

“You’re just really tight,” he grits out, voice strained.

You assumed that was a good thing, but he’s holding himself so tense above you that now you’re not sure. “Do I-,” you fumble over the words, “Does this feel good for you?”

He huffs an incredulous laugh, and brushes back some hair from off your face, “You feel really fucking good, sweet-”

Your whimper cuts him off when he pulls out a fraction and then pushes back in.

His brown eyes take you in as he does it again, more this time. Pulling out just a bit- just enough- and then filling you again. The discomfort fading more with each thrust as he guides his hips to yours until yours are tilting up to meet his seeking more.

It’s a conversation between your bodies, the give and the take of it all as Bradley introduces you to this new unspoken language. You feel yourself flutter around his cock, stretched wider than you’ve ever been.

You feel that heat spreading underneath your skin again as he surely and steadily pumps into you. It feels like your nerves are on fire. You didn’t expect to even come once and you’re well on your way to a third.

He reaches down and hooks your leg over his hip. His hand slides up along the outside of your thigh and under your ass, tilting your hips up towards his even more. He’s so much deeper like this. Your hands slide into his hair, tugging at his curls.

“Bradley, I-I think… I feel-”

“You’re gonna come,” he rasps, nodding at you. Encouraging, coaxing.

He grinds his pelvis against your clit with every deliciously slow roll into you.

Your mouth drops open at the feel of it, it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined. You don’t think your faces have ever been closer than they are now. Bradley is breathing your air, and you’re breathing his. Bradley’s pupils are blown wide, his heavy-lidded eyes are locked on yours. You didn’t know there could be so many shades of brown. His curls are a mess and it’s all because of you. He licks his lips and your breath catches in your throat when his eyes dart down to your parted mouth.

His next thrust into you hits that spot inside of you just so right that it has you gasping.

It’s so good, it’s too good, it’s overwhelming.

You wrap your arms around his neck clinging to him, your face buried against him. Bradley drops his head to your shoulder, you feel his lips brush against your clavicle. Your head moves away on instinct, making more room for him if he wants to do it again.

You get lost in the feeling of his cock hitting you in all the places you’ve heard about and read about, but have never felt for yourself until now. He’s still got your ass gripped in his hand, whereas your hands can’t stay in one spot. They’re tangled in his hair, running over his shoulders and down his abs, gliding over his back aided by the sheen of sweat he’s worked up.

You’re not trying to hold yourself back, but it feels like you’re standing on the tallest diving board at the pool, your toes curled around the edge, but still too nervous about the drop to jump.

“C’mon, kid. You’re right there,” he breathes hard, “I need you to come for me. Just one more.”

He gets his fingers back on your clit and it’s the end of you. Your back is arching so much you think you might snap. Your toes curl so tights they may never unfurl. The force your orgasm overtakes you, demanding everything you have up to offer and then some.

You hear Bradley’s moan as you pulse around his cock, trembling under him as the waves of pleasure wash over you. His hips stutter against yours, finally losing that steady rhythm he’d set, you pull him tighter to you and it’s not long until he comes too.

It’s all white noise. All you can feel is your heartbeat pounding, until little pieces of the world come back into focus.

The hum of the fan.

The beam of warm afternoon light through the blinds.

The smell of the now cold coffee on his nightstand.

In the after, you’re all too aware of every place your body is touching Bradley’s.

He’d somehow managed to roll on his back and had taken you with him. He was literally just inside of you, but yet it feels like your leg draped over his thigh is somehow more intimate. A prickly self-conscious feeling settles over you. Unsure of what the rules were for friends who just had sex, you attempt to peel yourself off of him, but the heavy arm over your waist keeps you in place.

“Come back here, kid,” Bradley mumbles, his eyes still closed, “I need to cuddle after I come, so I’m gonna need you to indulge me here for a moment.” He strokes a soothing hand down your back. And while he says it’s for him, you know he’s still trying to take care of you.

He hums when you lay back down. You set a hand on his chest. He reaches for it with his free one and threads your fingers together. It makes you melt further into him.

You feel a little different. But mostly, you feel like a weight you didn’t know you’d been carrying had been lifted off of you.

Your first time was everything you hoped it would be. You were safe and cared for, and you already knew, you’d never have any regrets about it. And it was all because of him.

“Thank you, Bradley,” you say, softly.

“Anything for you, kid.”

Your early morning catches up with you as you lay there, warm and secure. Your eyelids get heavier with each pass of Bradley’s hand along your spine. And you drift off to the sound of his heartbeat under your ear.

You’re still you. And Bradley is still Bradley.

It was just… something between friends.

A few hours later the two of you are still in his bed.

Only now you’re clothed and swapping the cartons of Chinese food that he’d ordered while you’d napped against his chest, and fighting over the fortune cookies watching some reruns of old sitcoms. You couldn’t hear their laugh tracks over your own.

The last couple of days you had at UVA fly by just as quickly.

You don’t know how, but the two of you managed to cross of all the things on his Spring Break To-Do List. And before you knew it you were back at the airport.

Bradley had insisted on walking you in, wanting to see you off.

Neither one of you has ever been good with goodbyes. So you don’t give him one, instead you reach for your bag and tell him, “Ok, see you in June.”

Bradley doesn’t let go, clearly confused, “What the hell are you talking about?”

You grin because it feels like a checkmate.

“You didn’t think you’d be getting that diploma all by yourself, did you?”

He looks thunderstruck.

You and your mom already had the plane tickets and hotel room booked. Your stepdad wouldn’t be able to come, but he was planning on sending your mom with one of the cakes from his family’s bakery. You’d been tasked with finding out what flavor, carrot cake or peanut butter- Bradley’s two favorites- but you could iron out the details with him later.

You’d had a busy week, plus it was more fun this way.

Bradley tugs you into his arms, yours wrap around him just as easily as they always have.

“June?” he asks into the crown of your head.

“June,” you promise.

And when he lets you go- for real this time- it’s with a smile that takes up his whole face.

He doesn’t say goodbye either, “Be good, kid. See you in June.”

𝐍𝐎𝐖

You avoid Rooster for the rest of the night.

And Jake too, for that matter. Bless Javy for finding ways to distract him because you could tell than man was chomping at the bit for more details. But you’d already given him more than enough.

You could have lied, you probably should have lied. It might have been easier than feeling like you’d hung up part of yourself on the drying line for everyone to see. But in that moment, the thought of lying and saying anyone else’s name other than Rooster’s had made your stomach turn.

Because it was the truth, he was your first, but he was also your best.

When you come out of the bathroom, there’s no missing Rooster. He’s leaning against the wall by the entrance. It takes him a moment to notice you since he looks lost in thought, but when he does you feel pinned to the wall by the intense look in his eyes.

He stands to his full height as you approach, you know he wants to talk about it.

You shake your head at him, “We don’t need to do this.”

“No, kid, we really do.” He takes you by the arm and leads you to a quieter spot away from everyone else.

“It was just a game,” you start before he can, “And now I know more about everyone’s sex life than I ever wanted to.” He crosses his arms over his chest at your attempt at deflection. “Look, I’m really sorry if that was something you wanted to keep a secret or just between us. I should have asked you first if that was ok to share.”

“I don’t care about that.” Rooster waves you off and takes a step closer to you, his eyes searching yours. “All this time and I’m the best you’ve ever had?”

“Are we really doing this? Here and now?”

You peer around him to look and see if anyone is watching the two of you, it feels like a showdown. But all the Daggers are occupied, probably on purpose. You’ve never seen Mickey with such a serious look of concentration on his face.

“Here and now,” he confirms.

You feel flustered, “Rooster, it’s been 12 years and we haven’t talked about it once-”

“Bradley,” he cuts you off. He takes another step towards you, so you’re toe to toe with him. “I’ve always been Bradley to you.”

The tension that had crept up in your shoulders releases a bit.

“Bradley,” you say, softly. “Listen, I’ve had a lot of good sex since then. Great sex even.” He presses his lips together and nods. “And with other men, if I felt like they weren’t putting in their best effort I’d kick them out because the bar was set very high early on.”

You see him fight back a smirk.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, with pride.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, you know he hears it because his eyes take on a richer shade of brown. You both feel the shift, tension churning between the two of you.

Taking a deep breath, you continue, “But I was telling the truth when I said you were my best. Probably because of the way you made sure I knew that you cared. I don’t know how to describe it. It was just different with you.”

You feel his finger graze the back of your hand.

The sounds of the Hard Deck fade into the background as you stare at each other. Entire conversations are being had as you look into his eyes and he looks into yours. Words and sentences spoken with glances.

Just friends don’t look at each other like this.

“It’s never been like this,” you whisper, “We’ve never been like this before.” You gesture at how close he is to you.

How he’s almost got you backed up against a wall.

How he’s looking at you like you’re his.

“I know.”

He says your name and your heart somersaults in your chest.

“I want to see your tattoo. I keep finding myself looking for it when we’re all at the beach. And then I get annoyed, knowing that people have seen it and I haven’t.”

“My tattoo? Bradley, what-”

“I want to see your tattoo,” he repeats like it’s a fact. “And I want to punch Seresin in his smug face every time he flirts with you.”

You roll your eyes, “Jake doesn’t flirt with me, not really. He just likes riling you up.”

“What if I said I wanted to try this as more than friends.” Bradley settles a large hand on your hip. “What if I said that since you’ve moved here I’ve had a hard time keeping my head on straight.”

“Bradley.” His name falls out of your mouth so easily now that it can.

“I want to take you home with me. I want to kiss you. I want to make you come. I need to know if you sound the same in my bed. And then I want to take you out for breakfast and buy whatever fancy coffee you want and as many pancakes as you can eat.”

You’ve been told that you wear your heart on your sleeve, but he has always worn his on his face. There’s no mistaking the open want on his face.

“Bradley, it’ll be different this time.” For so many reasons.

Because it’s not a favor being asked. It’s not some new experience being tried with the person you trust the most, with everything. You’d be on equal footing. It wouldn’t be a friend helping a friend, the two of you would be crossing that line between friends and more because you want each other in that way.

“I want it to be different, sweet girl,” he says, cupping your face in his familiar hand, “I’m ready for it to be different, if you are.”

He looks from your eyes down to your parted lips.

“We didn’t do that last time,” you whisper. Feeling brave, you reach out and run your fingers along the buttons of his shirt.

“No, we didn’t,” he agrees. His eyes are trained on his thumb as he skims it under your lip. “And that’s a damn shame.”

Bradley’s face is all you can see. Warm eyes, a still-straight nose, and a soft smile that is for you and you alone.

He dips down and your eyes flutter closed, your head tipping up on its own in anticipation.

His lips brush your cheek. It’s not enough.

You tug on his collar, but he chuckles and kisses your cheek again, lingering longer this time.

“I’m not kissing you for the first time around the corner from a bathroom,” he rasps.

You open your eyes and see the amusement in his. He always did like teasing you.

“Oh, where do you plan on doing it then?”

“Outside your front door, like a gentleman,” he says, like it’s obvious.

You can’t help but grin because Bradley Bradshaw can’t wait the extra 10 minutes it would take to drive to his place instead of yours. He wants that kiss just as badly as you do. You watch as a matching smile to yours blooms across his face.

It feels normal to slide your fingers between his much larger ones. It feels right as you lead the way out of the Hard Deck with him only a step behind you.

As it turns out, he only makes it as far as the Bronco before he’s spinning you back towards him and pressing you against it. His hands are on your hips and yours are wrapped around his neck as he kisses you for the very first time.

Bradley kisses you like a man who knows what he wants. And what he wants is you.

It’s not tentative in the way that first kisses usually are.

He kisses you like he knows you.

Because he does.

Later, when he closes the door to the Bronco for you, it feels like the end of one thing. But as he slips his fingers into yours when he backs out of the parking space it feels like the beginning of something new.

That night tangled in Bradley’s sheets- he’d kissed you at every light which made those extra 10 minutes it took to get to his home worth it- he makes your back arch and your toes curl as he makes you come with his fingers and mouth and tongue and cock. His lips dropping kiss after kiss on every part of you that he can reach. Because he can, because you want him and he wants you.

The way he touches you tells you that he remembers it all.

He was you first, but what you wouldn’t learn until later, is that he would also be your last.

And he’d be the only man to ever have your entire heart.

Happy Birthday Jordan! An AU just for you! 💖 I adore you and I hope this year is the best one yet!

A big thank you to @callsignspark and @ofstoriesandstardust for their help and beta reading and their woogirling! I appreciate you two so much!

Author's Note: this was a "what-if" AU set in the 'Like I Can' universe! If you want to read about what really happens you can read it here!

You can read more of my stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun imagine #topgun fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader

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kaznejis · 4 months

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Tarnished, but so grand- Erik Lehnsherr x Reader

Part 1 / Masterlist / AO3

You flickered your eyes back to him then, finding him staring back at you; his mouth twisted and eyes forlorn. “You’re leaving?” He could only nod, still staring. You inched forward, shock pulsing upon you in waves, “What! Why?” Pause. “Is it because of-” “Yes.” He said instantly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did so, tone breathy but muted.

Word count: 5.7k

“I couldn’t believe it, Y/N, he kissed me! Scott kissed me!”

You could only hum in response, staring into the dregs of your cereal bowl; the tepid milk and soggy remains of half-eaten cereal staring back at you.

“-And it was so romantic, he pulled me away from the bonfire and then he said-” Jean spoke animatedly in the seat across from you, waving her arms and practically squealing with excitement as she recounted her own turn of events from the night before; the hangover gripping at the edges of your conscience and the guilt, oh the guilt, alongside the dread and horror and disgust rendering you useless; allowing you to only manage a small range of primal, ape-like grunts in response.

Upon stumbling, dragging yourself up to your room the previous night- you had been able to do nothing but collapse into bed, tranquillity washing over the swell of your lips, the bruises upon your back and the tears that wet your cheeks. Waking up the following morning, however, had been a different story. First, you had combatted the grewling ache of your hangover; your head pounding and vision wiry as you squinted at the morning sun that blasted through the open window. It had taken you an embarrassing amount of time to reach your hand forward, intertwine the vines upon your windowsill with the silk of your curtains, and to pull. Once the issue of the sun was eradicated, then the realisation set in; the ball of dread that instantly expanded within your stomach and chest and heart- the shortness of breath that instantly set in, the memories of the previous night flooding back. At first, you chalked it up to a wayward dream, dreams about Erik were nothing new- they had practically facilitated themselves as an integral part of day-to-day life. But, as you woke, as you remembered, the indents upon your back became all too real- the angry, red marks from the press of the tree upon your back as you had-

No, you had whispered aloud; clawing at the grainy sheets upon you and dragging a trembling hand down your face. No fucking way.

Despite your resistance, despite your objections- it had happened. Nothing would erase that. The professor that you had grown to respect, to admire- had pressed you against a tree and practically demolished you; intertwined your tongue with his before leaving you cold, alone in the depths of the trees- their swaying, dark silhouettes humouring your tears. Your tears as he had left, stumbling backwards in the grass; his plaid shirt billowing around him like leaves in the wind.

`’-Y/N? Y/N.” Jean clicked a finger in front of your face, immediately snapping you out of your reverie; leaving you blinking dazedly at your friend as she stared back at you with concern, “Are you okay? You disappeared on me there for a while.”

You cleared your throat, cringing in disgust at the bowl of gloopy cereal you had practically been drooling into; removing the sodden spoon and pushing the plate to the side; you managed a plain smile at Jean, a shrug of the shoulders, “I’m fine, uh- just tired.” Your words were clumsy, abrasive; sentences slogging together as your tongue struggled to work through your own emotional turmoil.

“Hungover, I bet.” Jean laughed, throwing her head back and allowing her hair to flow down her back, “You were so wasted.”

“Says you,” You nudged her knuckle across the table, smirking as she pulled it back with feigned hurt; clutching at her hand as if it had been sliced, “As if you had gotten the courage to talk to Scott sober.”

“Hey!” It was her turn to swat at you across the table now, “Actually- now that I come to think of it, where did you go last night? I checked your room on my way in and you weren’t there.”

You stilled for a moment, your inhibitions freezing in horror as you stared at her; body half poised in defence as you had been avoiding her attacks, “Oh! I-” You stuttered, mind going blank for a long moment; this only spurred Jean onwards, exemplified through her sudden change in demeanour; the cock of her head, the furrow of her brow, and the way she leaned fully towards you. You could only shrug; allow an airy laugh as you looked everywhere but her eyes, “When I come to think of it, I can hardly even remember.” Jean leaned backwards then, crossing her arms; unimpressed, “Seriously, Jean! That’s how drunk I was-”

To your relief, the bell sounded for the end of breakfast; though, it was a Saturday- with no obligations to attend to, Jean was free to follow you as she pleased. You used the dining hall's long benches to your advantage; speed walking down your respective side and disappearing into the swelling crowd of students attempting to leave. Ignoring Jean’s calls as they grew fainter. You couldn’t do it, you couldn’t explain yourself to her; whilst your own guilt, regret was a prevalent, persevering factor- you felt the need to protect Erik, protect him from your wretched self. What would Jean have thought if you had told her of how your professor, the very same professor that answered her questions in class and graded her essays, had held you up against a tree and pressed his lips upon yours. What would she think of the way that you would live and die for the chance to taste him again, feel the cold palm of his hand flit higher upon your thigh, for any aggravating factors to disappear as he would finish what he had started within that iridescent alcove?

The rest of the weekend continued with that form of mindset; the lingering doubt that suffocated your mind. Any attempt, any semblance of completing your assignments remained fruitless. The curtain of nightfall began to close as the hallways bustled with student’s heading to their own rooms for the night. Abruptly you slammed your notebook shut, huffing as you moved to stand before your open window; a few stray groups were scattered upon the grass, namely Jean and Scott- cuddling beside the lake and giggling together. You moved away then, unable to watch any longer. You were happy for her, for them, of course you were; you just wished that your own Friday night endeavours had been as successful.

Whilst they had been successful, as to say, you weren’t currently curled beneath the moon with Erik himself.

That thought spurred you away from your room; needing a breath of fresh air, a moment to think. The route you took to the gardens led you directly through the classrooms, before you found yourself standing before Erik’s. The wooden plaque upon the door stated ‘Professor Lehnsherr’, you dragged a finger across the words; feeling the engravings upon your skin. Raising your hand to the handle, you were surprised to find it unlocked, though the room remained empty.

His classroom was dark; the curtains drawn halfway, casting tepid shadows upon the empty desks covering his room. His own was swept clear of any belongings, any ownership; not a trinket or picture or memorabilia upon the oak surface. It has always been like that, you soothed yourself; not allowing yourself to take the empty desk as the red heron that it would be, had it been owned by anyone else. You knew that Erik lived in solitude, everyone did; when he wasn’t teaching, he was with Xavier- and if he wasn’t with Xavier, it was a token to his lonesome. You would find him, in those darker hours, seated at his desk, that empty desk, writing or planning or thinking. You had found admiration in his ability to condone silence; the comfort he drew from the blow of the wind and the subsequent flutter of his curtains. He had told you so, months before, of the comforts he found in the quiet.

“Years on the run,” He had chuckled, watching you perched upon the edge of his desk, legs swinging idly, “Makes you admire the finer things.”

As you sat alone later that night, thinking of the unusual dark of his classroom and the absence of his presence within the house; you thought about how maybe, just maybe, you were one of those ‘finer things’. You are always there, he had gasped into the night; into the very air you too exhaled upon. My horrible, wretched thoughts. But how could they be so? Did he see the way he had mouthed upon your neck, curling his fingers into the hem of your skirt, so close to that sweet spot; as wretched? Did he see the way you had succumbed to his every command, every lesson, as wretched? A white rabbit, with the rosy pink belly, walking straight into the jaws of the wolf. The girl who can control nature, bend ivy at her will and grow petals in the palm of her hand, and the big bad Magneto.

You didn’t see it that way. He was kind; kind even before your lips had connected, even before he had spilled every morsel of his thoughts and dreams. His own reluctance showed that; the disgust he projected towards his very own feelings, the things that sets him apart; makes him human. Abhorrently, dejectedly; his own kindness shone in his supposed rejection of you. In leaving you in that forest, available to the beasts and curling claws of nightfall; he had been saving you from himself.

You knew in that moment, seated upon your own bed; that you needed to see him. Needed to tell him that you knew, you understood him. You felt the ivy of your touch entangle upon the intricacies of his mind like no one else ever could. So, with that, you marched from the room; mindless to the thin pyjamas that you adorned, mindless of your own lack of lightsource within the dark hallway. The bare skin of your feet peeling from the marble floors as you ran- passed the student dormitories, passed the common area, passed the classroom and finally, into the teacher’s suite.

You slowed then, lowering your pace to a creep as you curled your fingers upon the edge of the hallway; peering into the darkness of the corridor. Despite your position as one of the older students within the school, you were still entering restricted territory. It had practically been drilled into you on day one by Mystique; never enter the teacher’s suite. To your surprise, it didn’t look much different to that of the very hallway you resided in; the same high ceilings, the same arrangement of doors; in fact, it was entirely identical. The mystification you felt towards the teachers lessened somewhat- this was where they lived, where they slept, a sacrifice made in order to be at the beck and call of the students; young mutants just like they had once been.

The only problem; you had no idea which room belonged to Erik.

Though, before you could dwell upon the thought; a strip of light appeared as a door opened down the hallway- you gasped, flattening your chest against the wall as you continued to peer around the corner.

‘-Please you can’t do this.” A voice, Mystique’s, sounded; she seemed upset, angry. She stepped into the hallway in her mutant form, arms crossed and stance defensive in front of the open door.

Another voice sounded then, stressed and upset; the sound of it visibly weakening Mystique’s resolve, as her arms unfolded, defeated. “I’m sorry Raven, but I have to.”

“Please, Erik, why?” You realised with deafening clarity, that the other voice had belonged to Erik, “Did something happen? We can talk through this. All of us, I can call a meeting right-”

“Raven.” Erik snapped, appearing in the hallway; his back was straight as he stared down at her; fists clenched around a cardboard box as he attempted to pass. Before he could so successfully, she snatched the box from his hold, dropping it onto the floor; its contents spilling upon the hardwood floors, “What-” Then she was gone, storming down the hallway and into a door at the end of it- the slam that followed was violent; jostling the very foundations of the walls you leant upon. You could only watch as Erik sighed, scratching at the base of his skull before kneeling; his working boots facing you as he began to clean up the mess. Once he finished, he lifted the box once again; but instead of taking it where he had initially intended, he turned and returned to his room, allowing the door to close behind him.

In that moment, curiosity got the better of you; curiosity towards the argument that had commenced, curiosity as to why he had sounded so upset. Before you could think twice, you were in front of his door, fist raised; you allowed yourself a short moment of clarity, a split second of what the hell am I doing? Before you knocked your fist against the wood. Erik’s movements within the room paused; you breathed, suddenly all too aware of how little clothing you were wearing- the chequered pyjama shorts and matching lacy tank top. Crossing your arms, you could only stare wide eyed as the door swung open.

“Raven, please-” Erik began, though he froze the moment his eyes landed upon you, the moment his eyes caught sight of your exposed legs and pursed lips. He swallowed, the sound loud and grating in the hallway- for a moment, he was speechless; seemingly taking you in as you stared right back at him. Though, the moment ended as quickly as it began; his face dropped as he grabbed you by the shoulders; pulling you into the room before closing the door behind you, ensuring that it was locked. He turned to you then, shoulders rising as he visibly struggled to find the words, eventually; he did, voice hushed, urgent. “What- what are you doing here, Y/N?”

Gulping, you found yourself unable to answer his question in the rise of his anger and the sight of the strip of bare skin where his tank top and loose pants didn’t quite meet. Using your inability to speak as an excuse to move your eyes away from him, you surveyed the room. The room was beautiful; intricately decorated with deep, royal hues of red and black, long pillars lining each corner of the room and a large master bed placed directly at the centre. But, what truly drew your eyes were the boxes splayed throughout the room; some still in their flattened form, some filled with various belongings. You flickered your eyes back to him then, finding him staring back at you; his mouth twisted and eyes forlorn. “You’re leaving?” He could only nod, still staring. You inched forward, shock pulsing upon you in waves, “What! Why?” Pause. “Is it because of-”

“Yes.” He said instantly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he did so, tone breathy but muted.

“I’m sorry,” You shook your head, tears filling your eyes as you collapsed upon his bed; making yourself as small as possible upon the sheets, “I shouldn’t have done that- In fact, I should be the one to leave.” You stood, nodding determinedly at him, “I’ll go and see Charles tomorrow; I was the one that kissed you, I should-”

“No.” His tone sliced through your train of thought, rendering you silent. His chest was heaving with breaths, bracing up and down beneath the thin linen of his tank top. He had the beginning of dark circles forming beneath his wrinkled eyes; the foundational period of a lack of sleep. Gulping, you waited for him to continue, the urge to reach forward and run a finger through the light stubble upon his jaw ever-prevalent. He began to speak before pausing, his gaze earnest; broken and open for you to feast upon, cast your worst abjections upon him. “What I did was wrong, Y/N-”

“What you did?” Shaking your head, you paced before him, floods of dread filled your gut; dread at the implications he sported and the fear within his voice, “I don’t know what you think that was Erik, but-”

“Y/N, I am your professor.” His tone was final, serious; his chest raised and fell rapidly as he visibly tightened his jaw, his teeth grinding within his mouth. “I teach you history three days a week, I grade your papers and I answer any questions you may have; that is my duty.”

“What does duty have to do with-”

“Everything,” His voice had risen; trembling upon the line of full blown shouting. Shaking his head, he splayed a hand over his mouth; turning away from you slightly- you could only watch, hands shaking, as he visibly filed through his own thoughts, “I was allowed here to protect you, people like you. To protect people like me; not to expose them to my perverted inhibitions-”

“Perverted?” You cackled, genuinely throwing your head backwards; the residual tension of humour and horror rising within your throat, “Erik, I am a completely willing adult-”

He shook his head determinedly, “You are my student.” Shrugging, you cast your arms wide, wild eyes entirely unbridled as you stared at him; the fire within your soul could not be snuffed, “Well, I won’t be soon. It’s almost summer and then my training is up; I’m free to do as I please.” You were visibly angered, voice clipped and cheeks blazing with heat, “Don’t leave because of me.” Emotions dimmed, you crossed your arms; swallowing, tongue between your teeth, “If anything, I’m just some silly little girl.”

Sighing, he walked to his bed and sat upon it. His back was hunched; arms long in his lap as he refused to meet your eyes. So deep in his own state of emotional turmoil, your own internal vitriol cast no objection upon him. He seemed to be waiting; waiting for you to shout, to scream, to curse him for defiling your so-called perpetual innocence. You beat the rise of his voice with your own, “I’m not angry at you, Erik.”

He froze, his form stilling; arms encased within his lap as his eyes widened, his voice was low when he spoke, the syllables long and pained, “What?”

Shaking your head, you tightened your jaw; willing your eyes to stop filling with tears, emotion overtaking you at his silence, his inability to just understand. You repeat yourself once again, “I’m not angry at you,”

“Y/N, I don’t understand-”

“I wanted it,” Swallowing, you faced your feelings; your doubts, head on, “I wanted all of it, just as much as you did.”

He shook his head, standing and stepping forward; his hands spasmed at his side, desperate to reach out, to touch, “As I do,” You shook your head, confused, “Just as much as I do Y/N.”

“Erik-”

“We can’t tell anyone,” He was whispering now, a hand raised to brush the hair from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear, “Not until I’m no longer your professor.” A beat. “Do you understand me?”

You nodded, immediate and fast, “Of course.” Ever obedient to his every command.

“Good,” He gave you a closed-lipped smile, his cheeks crinkling, “Good girl.”

Requiring no further confirmation, you leaped forward; gripping his face as you encased his lips with your own. As they met, he gasped your name like a prayer; the syllables sacred and protected, gasped in tandem with the beat of his heart and the rush of his own blood. The deafening waves of pleasure took power to your conscience as he walked the two of you backwards; kicking stray boxes from his path as the two of you crashed upon his bedsheets- the harsh lines of his body pressing you down, down into the velvet of his bedspread as you clawed at his shoulders. Keeping his lips upon yours, he moved a hand upwards, gripping at the hair at the base of your neck; he pulled then, your head tilting backward as he bit at the skin of your lip; devouring your mouth within his own and licking at the blood that he drew. You bent immediately to his will.

Allowing your eyes to slip shut, pleasure and shock and desire admonishing any sense of awareness; you felt as he began to move downwards, his lips trailing upon the curve of your neck, the bend of your jaw and the skin beside your ear. His fingers danced at the edge of your shirt; inching it, slowly and carefully, upwards towards your armpits. You took it upon yourself to push him backwards, raising slightly only to reach down and pull the shirt off, over your head and onto his bedroom floor. You could only blink as his eyes caught upon the bare skin of your breasts that had laid beneath the singular layer, could only blink as he trailed their outline with his fingertips before trailing them further downwards, to the waistline of your pyjama pants. He stopped then, eyes raising to your own; past the rapid rise and fall of your burning chest, “Can I?”

Nodding hastily, you dragged a hand through his hair, watching as he manoeuvred both your pants and underwear over your hips and down your legs in one go, “Almost died when I saw these little shorts.” He practically sighed the words out, pressing a kiss to your upper thigh as he pulled the material over your knees.

There, you laid completely naked beneath his entirely clothed form. The predetermined power dynamic existing between you was ever prevalent; but in that moment, you felt like the powerful one- empowered by the way his throat bobbed and eyes glistened at the expanse of your skin, by the way his hands lifted your thighs and the ghost of his breath warming the mound between them. Whimpering at the sensation, at the feeling of being watched by him; the burn of his gaze- you pleaded, begged with your own eyes, begging him to do something. Nodding, rubbing a soothing hand upon your thigh, he leant forward, testing the waters- planting a kiss upon your clit. You reacted instantly, jolting and tightening the hand within his hair; you felt him grin against the skin of your pussy, his breath releasing in chuffs. Then, he moved; dragging his tongue through your folds, the sensation lighting a fire within you as you collapsed backwards against the sheets; writhing, hand still secured within his hair as you pulled.

It felt like hours, years, mere minutes as he lapped at you; his tongue making sinful, disgusting noises against you as his hands gripped at your hips; securing you down upon the bed as you attempted to writhe beneath the hold of his pleasure. Panting, your hair stuck to the damp skin of your lips as you threw your head to the side; finding purchase anywhere you could- you felt your orgasm begin to build, the tingling sensation burning within your abdomen, spreading to the hilt like wildfire. This wasn’t like when you would touch yourself to the thought of him, beneath your duvet; head held firmly to your pillow- this was free, unadulterated pleasure; your climax reaching faster than you could anticipate.

Through the haze within your mind, through the scratch of your fingers upon his scalp; you found purchase to the last string of your own sentient conscience, “Erik, wait-’ He halted instantly, pulling back; his hair pointing in a number of directions and mouth ajar; he looked horrified, terrified at the thought of hurting you. Laughing, you shook your head; reaching forward to run a finger over his swollen red lips; you snorted, instantly spitting out an apology, “Sorry, I’m sorry I just-” Your voice was awash with humour as you spoke, grinning down at him, “I- I was going to cum.”

“Ah,” He replied slowly; nodding as he scratched at the base of his head; his gaze was shy from beneath his eyelashes.

You couldn’t wipe the grin from your face as you watched him, reaching forward to pull him upwards until he faced you directly, as the cotton of his tank top brushed against the skin of your breasts; you realised with stark clarity that he was still fully dressed. With a glance downwards, you spoke, “I think you need to match me here.”

Cocking an eyebrow, he tilted his face; smirking down at you as he moved a hand to dissect the hair from your face and lips, “Do I now?”

“Yes, I think so.” Nodding, you dragged the strap of his top from his shoulders with your pointer finger; tracing the wiry muscles of his bare arms propped above you as you did so. He rose then, grinning at your dejected moan as he moved to pull the top over his head; exposing the expanse of his chest; small, pink nipples and dusty hair painting a trail down his naval. His form was muscular yet thin; the outlines of muscles existent like ivy wrapped around his biceps, strong yet undefined. You walked two fingers upon his naval, toying with the waistband of his sweatpants as you smiled toothily up at him; he rolled his eyes before pulling down his pants, allowing his cock to spring free.

You spent a long moment willing your eyes not to widen; fearful of breaking the finely held thread of tension- his dick was, what Jean would describe as, ‘Boyfriend Material’. You hadn’t understood the term when she’d said it during your recent trip to the cinema, shaking your head as she betted that Scott ‘definitely had a boyfriend material dick’. When you had tried to discuss what Erik’s dick might be like; she had simply gagged, waving her hand exasperatedly as she begged you not to discuss such a thing.

But you definitely understood what she had meant now.

“Hey,” A voice said in front of your face, Erik, in the midst of your personal vignette- Erik had lowered himself back down; arms braced above your head as he smiled down at you, head quirked to the side. Grinning back, you wrapped your arms around the base of his neck before bringing him down into a soft, slow kiss. It was the slowest kiss the two of you had experienced so far; not fueled by abrupt pleasure or the weight of confession- the two of you simply existed, within his bedroom with the flat-packed boxes; upon his silk sheets. You felt it as he breathed you in, inhaling heavily through his nose as he continued to move his lips upon yours. When he pulled back to allow you to breathe, his mouth was visibly curved downwards with emotion; his thumb traced the skin of your jaw before tracing the skin of your lips, tracing where his own had just been.

His lips quivered; pink and wet with the sheen of your combined saliva, “Have you ever-?” He questioned, his eyes flickering downwards; you shook your head meekly, swallowing heavily as he nodded; a sweet, sincere smile curling the edges of his mouth, “Okay, darling.” He cooed, reaching upwards to tuck your hair behind your ear, smooth a hand over the red of your cheeks.

You found your voice, watching him through the flutter of your eyelashes; his bare skin and ruffled hair- the parts of him that you had never seen before, that he was allowing you to see, “Never got the chance, having superpowers and all.”

He laughed, nodding down at you, eyes glistening with adornment, almost as if he were in love. Though his face turned serious then, mouth straightening and eyebrows creasing as he looked upon you, “You can say no, sweetheart. We don’t have to-”

“I want to,” You cut in, nodding determinedly up at him; reaching up to smooth out the crease of his brow, “More than anything.”

He kissed you then; his hand instantly moving to cup your jaw, the other moving to caress the skin of your thigh; procuring a sickly, sweet burn that caused you to pant against his lips; his own instantly curling into a smirk as he felt you do so. As his fingers met the hilt of your thigh, sliding between the heat above; he lowered his head until he came face-to-face with the pebbling skin of your nipple before placing his tongue upon it, twirling and flicking the bud as you gasped, back arching against the damp sheets below. You couldn’t help the almost pitiful moan of his name that left your lips, your eyes squeezed closed and head thrown back against his pillow; you felt him grin against the underside of your breast, his ministrations against the juxtaposing cold of your breast and the warmth of your clit causing deafening sensations to ricochet within your stomach. The twists of pleasure allowing only whispers of his name within your mind.

Unable to do anything but lay there, you grit your teeth as he slid a finger into your heat; the length of it procuring a pinching pain as you winced. Pausing, he stroked the skin of your thigh; pressing a kiss there as he watched your face for any further signs of pain, “Tell me if it hurts too much.” He spoke into the skin of your thigh, you nodded down at him, granting a reassuring smile as he turned back to watch his hand- pushing the finger deeper and swiping at your clit as he did so. Soon, the pinching pain turned to pleasure; your muscles loosening as you realised that this, actually, felt good. Soon you were a moaning mess within his hands; three fingers within you as he bent you to his will with the curve of his dexterous hands. Those hands that weld so much power, able to inflict so much pleasure.

Eventually, you grasped at his shoulders; panting and moaning as your nails pressed crescent moons into the skin there, “Please,” You moaned, eyes watering as you begged him, “Please I need more.”

He rose instantly, cock hard and aloft as he moved to his bedside table; retrieving a condom from the depths of it. He rolled it upon himself, before propping himself above you once again, his cock held at your entrance. He rubbed it between your folds, once, twice; his condom instantly covered in your own juices, before he looked up at you; one step away from the finale. “Sweetheart, are you sure?”

Nodding, you bared yourself down upon him; lifting your legs to brace his hips. He cocked his head to the side, eyebrows raised and chin lowered as he watched you; visibly demanding verbal confirmation, “Yes, Erik, yes. I’m ready.”

Letting out a shuddering moan, he needed no further confirmation; inserting himself within the space he had enlarged- eyes instantly rolling back as he did so. He was not forceful as he inched himself inwards; his eyes did not stray from your face, searching for any sign of pain or resignation. You did not show any, mouth ajar and eyes wide as you moaned his name; legs tightening around the bracket of his hips. Upon reaching the hilt, he lowered himself to your chest; burying his face into the curve of your neck, the skin instantly growing wet with the humidity of his moans and your own sweat. “Is this okay?” He whispered, mouthing at your neck as he remained completely still; you nodded before shifting your hips, smiling as you felt the rush of breath against your neck. He instantly began to move; sinking home and immediately abandoning it as he methodically pushed in and out; his abdomen grinding against your clit.

“Beautiful, so beautiful,” The sounds were more visceral moans than words as his hands steadfastly clutched your hips; procuring sounds that you didn’t believe to be possible to fall from your mouth; garbling mixtures of his name and indiscernible pleading. The sweat congregating between your bodies was slick and hot; the fibres of your beings connected at every last point as you moved together. You knew for a fact that you looked sincerely debauched; but with Erik whispering and moaning into your ear; you could hardly register a second thought as you sunk into the pleasure he allowed you. He too looked a mess when he moved from your neck; hair damp at the ends from sweat and eyes scrunched shut; mouth falling open as he seemed entirely lost to the verisimilitude of pleasure. He had never looked so beautiful, so unruly- the strict, formal clothing a distant memory as he moaned and whimpered and gasped above you.

You felt your high reaching slowly as his abdomen brushed against your clit; the methodical movements torturous in their sporadicity. However, the moment he moved his thumb to your clit; you knew the end was near. He moved it in time with his thrusts, causing your mind to go blissfully blank as you could think of nothing but your fast approaching orgasm. The noise that left you as you came was barely a sound at all; head thrown back and eyes closed as your breaths crackled. You felt it as Erik came with you, hips stuttering and pulsing as he groaned for a long moment above you. He collapsed upon you then, the both of you panting together as you laid there in the pool of sweat formed upon his sheets.

A large hand cupped the back of your head as you came back to yourself, a low voice humming praise and compliments into your ear as you came to. The cold air hit you for a moment as Erik pulled himself out of you, disposing of the condom before lifting you into his arms; pulling back the duvet and depositing you into the warmth of his bed.

Sleep tinged the edges of your vision; though you couldn’t get one thought out of your mind, “Please don’t leave.” The words were barely a whisper, spoken into the darkness of his bedroom.

Erik shuffled beside you, sighing before wrapping you up in his arms; comforting and secure “I won’t leave you sweetheart, not again.”

#erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr x reader #erik lehnsherr x y/n #erik lehnsherr x you #magneto #magneto x reader #michael fassbender #x men #AM I MAKING YOU FEEL SICKKKKKK

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writers-potion · 2 months

Text

When to Use "P" Sounds

to show unbending authority, bureaucracy and the law

for a character who prides himself in his masculinity

for eortic scenes with male action

for a display of power and pompousness

for a firm patriarchal society

"P" for authority and pride:

power, principle, parilament, empire, approve, impose, president, prelate, prefect, emperor, empress, pastor, priest, prince, pontiff, patriarch, parade, palace, portal, pose, display, pomp, peacock, prance, preen, pretend, imposter, importance, impress

"P" sounds for judgement and punishment:

police, penalty, punishment appraisal, probe, oppose, probate, approve, passport, apprehend, appeal, troop, platoon, deploy, poll, parish, population, protocol, parochial, position, plead, process, prison

"P" for stick-like objects:

pole, pile, pillar, pilaster, peak, pike, spear, poke, pierce, prong, push, pin, prick, penetrate, point, penis, patriarchy, paternal, progenitor

Other thematically unrelated words:

apply, park, perk, pug, puppy, posy, plug, apple, pear, grap apricot, peach, painting, portrait, picture, people, ping, peg, gape, lip, ship, pen, pulse, parchment, palaver, ploy, ape, sap, tap, sip, tip, pillow, pirouette, pry, ploy, slip, plant, peek, peer, nape, plate, platinum, planet, ship, rip, spin, wasp, lamp, ample, shape

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

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the-monkeies-girl · 2 months

Text

someone said they didn't like my writing because it's too descriptive and i said they can get fucked i like my writing and that should be all that matters

It was a quiet evening in the Colony. Nothing more than the chattering and howls from a few Apes as the released exaltations but other than that, hands were signing between lingerances in wicker bowls for food. The usual spread of trout freshly caught that morning from the stream, berries picked from the group of Female Apes you wanted to associate with more closely, but found it difficult at times when you were the only human amongst them. The sun cusped on the horizon that was blistering your sight with the tree line that amplified the rays of light in the right angles, illuminating aspects of your face that to the Chimps in front of you were nothing more than distraughtly ugly to the point of minor distrust.

Not that you could blame them, looks were a two way street and since arriving at the Colony, it was hard to stake out the reservations you had in your mind that they were all evolved and were more suitably placed bi-pedal, expressing more Humanly than yourself at times. The last eight years alone did wonders in conditioning you to think otherwise.

Scooting your eyes to your right, you let a sliver of satisfaction coarse through the forefront of your mind but it was a sensation that did not last and was ultimately eclipsed by a wash of self-deprecation. Sure, you’d only recently found your place here amongst them all, choosing to eat with Lake, River Blue Eyes and Ash during the bustle of the evening meal, never making it early enough to join during the meal that was shared before the Sun made its presence against the horizon at dawn. Mainly Lake as you had been instructed by Caesar that she would be your essential guide to learn the ways of how they lived.

The way that they ate was one of those things that did not come naturally to you. Sharpened canines tumultuously carding themselves out of their gummy enclosures and tearing away at the fish meat and stripping it away from the tiny bones, intricate to watch as if it were ceremonious and it left you feeling less than adequate that you had to tear the meat with your fingers instead. Tentative chews were followed with a shiver of primal fear around the edges of your brain that you needed to run. Forget your meal, forget the safety here that had been so generously offered by the Ape King and take off.

There was nothing stopping them from doing the same to you as the roasted fish, there was nothing stopping them from taking you by the neck and trudging a mouth against the more delicate flesh against your pulsing jugular and taking what they rightfully felt inclined to, blood shading down your neck, tracing around your collarbones as the vein was torn away from your body---

Lake… You tried to pull your mind back into focus. Lake had shown you things that revolved around the daily in-and-outs of Colony life, including and not excelling in… Their choice of language. Your gaze was fluttering between the three sets of hands in front of you, their fingers long, stocky and even in the bustling firelight provided by the communal fire, it was hard to deduce what was being said as you clutched your wickered bowl of fish bones, wiped clean by your hunger, against your stomach which felt bustled with anxiety.

You smiled when they chortled in amusement, you nodded in agreement when they did but conversationally, it was difficult to keep up or contribute and that in and of itself left you feeling more than isolated against the slaten rock that provided the safety shield for the Colony itself. There was always the concept of speaking, you knew that. It was immature to think otherwise when you had been spoken to before but it felt sparsely used amongst the younger Apes who never had any reason to verbalize.

It was easier to sign.

It was an isolating existence you found yourself in regardless, feeling at times like the Colony’s perimeter was nothing more than a gilded cage of protection gifted to you by their leader. By… Caesar. Drawing a deep breath in, you sat your finished bowl to the side and allowed your eyes once again scan the setting sun off in the distance, forgetting for a moment the circumstances of what brought you to the moment you were so blessed to be living in.

The hues of orange that had bustled there at the beginning of your evening meal were tainted now, drawing down into harder pinks and purples as the Sun began its wave goodbye before circling down the skyline. At least you were alive; most of the Humans you had seen in the last eight years were either hostile enough to drive you away or were trying to form radical parties against the Apes.

Either way, you felt like staying with them would get you killed and it was just happenstance that you stumbled, quite literally, onto your knees in front of the Hunting Party that alloted the presence of a crazed and hateful Bonobo who looked at you with one milky stare and one that captivated nothing but despise, two young Chimpanzees which you now knew were Ash and Blue Eyes. And two stockier Chimps - Rocket, fur thinned and skin exposed to the chill of the Pacific air that drifted in and… Their King.

You’d heard stories, sure. Most of the Humans in the area had heard about it like it was nothing more than an everyday occurrence to recall and recollect, you had all seen it on TV during the seemingly Chess game of the Rise and then lived through the aftermath as the Flu wiped out every pleasure that Humanity catered to. It was word of mouth, it felt like it was hard against the shell of your ear, whispered to you in the dead silence by Caesar himself, alone in your hut. The only semblance of verbalization you felt struck by even though it was just your imagination.

As you paced your stare around the Apes, you watched them. Bonobos… Orangutans, Gorillas and Chimpanzees all painted into each other like a fine piece of art, cliqued into families who enjoyed meals together, there was no way to deny your train of thought the simpler pleasures of thinking about him.

Caesar was overpowering in presence alone, a lick of shock radiating and splintering against your spine at the lack of warmth the fire provided you as he came rounding in front of you. Even his gait, strong and powerful, caused your eyes to look elsewhere, focusing again on the distance. The shuffling of the trees with a minor breeze, the crisp sound of water running against the landscape.

‘Cae..sar.’ You butchered a sign out, simple enough as it was but even his name felt incorrect to your fingers as you dropped your hand from your jaw back into your lap to play your fingers against each other.

There was something signed in return, your fingertips urging themselves to follow suit as if you were going to non-verbally answer whatever was said in silence. The way that Caesar held his hands so tightly to his core, the muscles below his fur seemed to rip and the tips of his coat that tapered onto the back of his hands into the darkened skin that seeped against his knuckles was alluring enough to fixate on.

Blinking out of that, you tilted your head and glanced up at him only briefly before you choked a response out, “I-I can’t understand you when you sign that fast.”

Caesar lacked momentum as your words processed in his mind. Brashedly, he asked in a baritone that scratched at the incessant part of your mind that yearned for communication, “You do… Not speak to them.”

“Well…” Swallowing hard, you nodded in agreement there and tried to shove the notion out of your head that you were being watched by him often enough for that detail to come to light. “They talk really fast, and over each other I can’t keep up sometimes---” It was hard to ignore that you felt like an inconvenience to them, especially the way that Caesar huffed at your incantation.

“Has… Lake not been teaching you?”

“She’s a great teacher!” You were quick to compliment, never one to disappoint as you calmed your fluttering heart, forcing your mind into action as you had risen slightly from your chosen seat. Cold rock seared through your tactical pants and into the back of your thighs as you looked down at your own folded hands.. “I just… Haven’t been doing this since birth, y’know…? I can only learn so fast. I feel like talking sometimes bothers them so I stay quiet.”

“Takes time… to learn.”

“I barely even know how to sign your name.”

That was meant as a joke but Caesar remained stagnant and quiet in front of you. If it was funny, your mind running away from itself at the lack of camaraderie you had with anyone, he wasn’t one to show it as he looked off into the distance, mimicking the way that you had been in a bid to avoid eye contact in the first place.

He was not avoiding, his breathing was calmed and relaxed compared to your own which felt smoldering against your ribs as if you were being held under water. In the light that was fading from the Sun, his fur appeared a darkened shade of black though in lighter aspects, it appeared brown and there was a strange admittance in your own self that you had been watching him enough to know such a minute detail. Chalking it up simply to the fact that you didn't speak during meals and barely found any friends due to that, you resulted in admiring them instead.

For all you knew, there was a softened exhale from your mouth at the lack of understanding in yourself as to why you found Caesar so appealing in the first place, the fur detail you knew could have been true for all of them and not just… Caesar…

Attention was hard on your movement as you raised your right hand, forming into a ‘C’ shape near the tip of your jaw, your mouth contorting into an awkward half smile of depreciation as green and golden irises flickered along your expression.. Your fingernails tickled at the skin there and left it feeling aflame as you clarified for him.

“Caesar.” The action was tightened, your fingers unsure of themselves as you finally scraped up enough courage to look up at the large Ape in front of you. Your fingers placed harder against your jawline to the point where it felt like you were able to feel the uncut edges of your bones below the flesh. “Caesar.”

It was a flurried moment- your mouth falling open as the Ape King who superseded any speculations about him from the stories you had heard, raised his arm in a mirrored fashion to yours. The position of Caesar’s bent arm felt strikingly intimidating, his bicep flexing the tearing muscles below that could surely aid in ripping your throat out if he posed you as a threat. Instead though as you pushed aside the primal fear--- You were studious in how his hand curved into a loosened ‘C’ as if it were second nature to him. Not near his protruding jaw like yours had been.

Closer… Closer to… The flames of the torches that surrounded and kept the Colony alight shifted his eye color into capsules of orange, your throat tightening at the way he stared down at you. His positioned fingers, entrancing in their own right as they danced between darkened fur along his thick wrists, lighter colored around his knuckles and darkened along the palms, it appeared like splattered water color, they were against the side of his face, temple being kissed lightly by the backs of his fingers.

Radical fear seemed to leave the split second you made eye contact, breathlessly, you let your mouth open at the lack of imposition or fully wrought scare tactics that you thought his stare would be full of. Instead... They were... Making you uncomfortable with how Human they were. If you were not aware that you were in front of an Ape... A Chimpanzee who was standing strongly on his two feet, stanced hardened against the slick rock of the cliff that dragged adjacently to the kiss of the Suns light, you'd have sworn that he was Human. That he was... Just like you... Full of… Curiosity... Understanding. As if he were aware that everyone starts somewhere and you had only been in the Colony for a month now.

It felt like he stayed in position for hours, peering down at you from beneath the hardened brow line and it was miraculous that you were even able to make out the detailing of his expanding and disappearing irises as they were casted away by the darkness of his pupils.

“Caesar.” Finally! He spoke, the hackles lining his collarbones bristling as you shifted your body to mime him once more, your heart racing itself to the back of your esophagus as the older Chimp maintained the eye contact that he sought for. Something--- Anything for a connection to the Human that he allowed refuge in the Colony.

“Caesar.” The tone you used was breathless, it felt like everything had been rocked right out of you from the intensity of connection just made. Floating your hand near your eye, you tugged a piece of your hair back and smiled slightly, cursing to the Heavens that the fire in front of you was enough of an excuse for the sure reddening of your cheeks at the one-on-one lesson. “Thank you, I was too close to my jaw before.”

“Will get… Maurice to help you learn. Better teacher than… Lake or… Myself.”

There was no argument to be made as Caesar locked stares with you once more; your heart churned from the top of your throat and back down, passed its home in your rib cage and into your stomach at the intimacy it felt cased in.

“T-Thank you!” You managed to utter along with the accompanied sign as the Ape King paced away from you, one more casted glance thrown over his shoulder as you made the sign for his name once more, this time, to yourself.

And without a word to anyone, Caesar narrowed his enviously green and golden speckled eyes on your hand motions, not willing to admit how tantalizingly tempting it felt in the moment to shatter the delicate bones with his own touch. Not out of vicious intent, but out of… Curiosity.

Something that lingered even when he wasn’t around you and something that pestered the inner workings of his mind as if he hadn’t spent the first eight years of his life with Humans to the point where he went through quite a cultural shock when the time came to leave it all behind because there was a deeply ingrained part of himself that wanted to believe he was not Ape, that he was Human… In you, the way that he studied as he climbed to the perch high above the seats of the rest of the Colony, Caesar… Saw himself. And he liked… the way you signed his name.

#planet of the apes #pota #caesar x reader #caesar #caesar pota #planet of the apes x reader #pota x reader #x reader #kingdom of the planet of the apes #kotpota

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ohwaitimthewriter · 2 months

Text

Chase

Pairing: (HEAVILY) implied!Caesar x human!reader

Warning: yearning............

Summary: You played a game and didn't understand all the rules…

Words: 751

A/N: it's 2am and I wasn't expecting this to happen 😳

Enjoy your reading! 😁

Planet of the apes Masterlist.

You ran away.

Were you aware that he'd catch you? Caesar didn't know, but the fact was, he'd caught you.

His hand crept up your ribs, coaxing and gripping your ribcage lest you try to escape again. He didn't need much pressure to feel the toughness of your bones under his fingers, which suddenly seemed as fragile as a twig. If he squeezed any harder, he'd crush your ribs like autumn leaves on the forest floor. One sudden pressure and his natural strength would shatter the meager protective barrier of your ribcage.

Your ribcage was expanding to the rhythm of your laughter, which you were obviously having trouble holding back, and your hand had instinctively found its place on his forearm, your fingers gracefully snaking their way between his fur. Your skin was barely touching his at this point, and Caesar found himself obsessed by the pressure of your fingertips, which nestled more and more against his skin as your laughter compelled you to lean on him to keep your balance.

A laugh so intoxicating, so heartfelt that he found himself escaping a few playful exhales from his lips, sounding like he was taking several deep breaths successively.

And that's when your forehead met his shoulder. Your lungs under his powerful hand tried to catch their breath, but calming the jolts of your laughter was so laborious that you had to lean against his shoulder to support your body.

He had only one step to take, only one pressure of the hand to force you backwards, and no doubt he would follow your steps until your back met the tree trunk only a few meters behind you. His thumb unconsciously slipped between two of your ribs, and he knew that a single twitch could make you move as a result of the slight pain you'd feel.

But he didn't.

Your shaky breath brushed his fur, which stood on end at the warm sensation emanating from your mouth so close to him.

What had you gotten him into? He felt a bite in the pit of his stomach. A pleasantly warm bite that gnawed at his insides and made him salivate to the point where he had to run his tongue over his canines several times to restrain himself from digging them into the skin of your neck. This skin that taunted him, letting him see the pulsations of your heart through it.

Would you allow it? He didn't have much to do, his muzzle was already close to your neck and all he needed was a few centimeters, just one small movement to bury his nose against your skin and take delightful sips of your bewitching scent. All he'd have to do then would be to curl up his lips and, first, graze your delicate skin with his canines before letting his tongue trail along your jugular vein. Then, if, and only if, you'd let him, he'd come and taste the few pearls of blood that would crumble over your neck, marking you forever as his own.

His stomach didn't seem to be holding still as your breathing found its normal rhythm, your genuine laughter dying in a chuckle before ending in a single gasp.

Your head left his shoulder and, despite his determination to keep you as close to him as possible, he loosened his grip on your ribs to let you take a step or two backwards. Your smile cracked your face until it rose to your eyes, making them sparkle, and you had no idea of the turmoil still dilating Caesar's pupils, letting his gaze appear blacker than it normally would be.

“Next time, I'll run faster,” you giggled.

Caesar snorted and forced himself to ignore the pulse pounding in his skull to claim your ribcage again as his own, this time with both hands, so as not to give you another chance to pull away from him.

“Yes… you'd better do that.”

His husky voice sang a silent vow that you wouldn't get off so easily, and a wave of tingling settled deliciously in the small of your back.

Next time, Caesar would come and take what your alluring scent dared him to take without you being fully aware of it. Your scent that taunted his insides and compelled him to hold his breath to avoid immediately giving in to the thrilling impulse to make you his. This pleasant bite that gnawed at him, he was going to use it to court you… until the next chase.

#planet of the apes #caesar x reader #planet of the apes x reader #caesar x human reader #caesar planet of the apes #caesar pota #pota

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rafeandonlyrafe · 11 months

Text

study sesh

words: 900

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex

“rafey, i don’t know how you expect to help me study considering you’ve never even taken an anthropology class before.” you say into your cell phone.

“i can help you concentrate! keep you focused, bring you snacks, hand feed them to you.”

“you know you’re only going to be a distraction.” you say, genuinely needing to study.

“okay, okay.” rafe says with a chuckle. he had no intention of actually helping you study. “how about a deal? you have an hour of solo study time before i come over.”

you look at the clock, figuring you could cover most of the chapters that would be on the exam tomorrow. “alright. bring snacks though.”

you can practically hear rafes smile over the phone when he responds, “i wouldn’t dream of not.”

“hey baby, you gotta be quiet.” rafe shushes you as you bounce on his cock again, textbooks long forgotten, decorating the floor along with your pens and flashcards.

“can’t.” you whine, knowing that your dorm walls are thin and the girl across the hallway is a tattletale who has reported rafe for sneaking into your room multiple times before.

“gotta, princess.” rafe says, bringing you down into a kiss to hopefully smother your whimpers and moans.

“trying, i swear.” you tell rafe, hands gripping his shoulders, nails sure to leave little crescent marks on his skin.

“i know, and you’re doing so good for me, huh?” rafe brings one hand down to your clit, massaging it and spreading your wetness around. “always my good girl.”

you nod your head quickly, loving the praise. rafe flips you over quickly so you are laying on the bed, keeping his cock lodged deep inside of you as he does so.

“ahh…” you let out a quiet moan, rafe’s cock reaching deep inside of you.

“cum for me.” rafe demands, pinching your clit. upon release, you let out a shudder as your orgasm racks through your body. rafe closes his eyes as your cunt pulsates around his cock. he takes deep breaths as he waits for you to come down from your high, wanting to force another orgasm from you before he came inside of you.

“so good.” you place your hands on rafe’s cheeks, bringing him down to kiss you.

“i know, you got another in you?” rafe asks as he picks up the pace again. it’s already your third orgasm of the night, being given one by his fingers and one by his tongue.

“can’t.” you whine, pushing his hand away from your clit.

“oh, but you can, my love.” your boyfriend teases you, but takes his hand away from your pussy, gripping your hips as he uses your body to meet his with every thrust, a slapping sound no doubt able to be heard by your neighbors.

rafe suddenly pulls out, silencing your complaints with a kiss as he gets off the bed, grabbing a stack of flashcards from the floor.

“what is primatology?”

“wh- what?” you ask, pussy throbbing, missing the sensation.

“you said i would just be a distraction while you studied. i’m proving you wrong. let’s study. want me to fuck you? tell me what primatology is.”

“study of primates, like apes and shit.”

“language, but good job.” rafe says after he flips over and reads the back of the card. he lines his cock up with your entrance, giving you one quick thrust.

“what is ethnography?”

“study of…” you let out a gasp as rafe thrusts into you, “cultures.”

“you’re so smart.” rafe praises, giving you a couple more thrusts as he reads the next card, “who was franz boas?”

“he developed a theory of… something.” you can’t think of anything as rafe’s cock pulses inside of you.

“cultural relativism.” rafe explains, tossing the card onto the floor, pulling out of you.

“nooo, rafe, please. fuck me and then you can quiz me.” you beg.

“then you won’t have any motivation, sweetheart.” rafe smiles gently, “besides, your test is in the morning, you need your sleep, and we are multitasking to save time.”

“what is cultural relativism?”

you rush to answer, needing to feel rafe inside of you again, "that we judge cultures based on the standards of our own."

“good.” he coos, tossing the card as his cock re-enters you.

“what is stimulus diffusion?”

“the spread of ideas from one group to the next.”

“aaand…” rafe prompts you, giving you a hard thrust.

“and the… the idea being changed by the adaptors.”

“good.” rafe smiles, “answer the next two right and i’ll give you a break… and let you cum.”

you nod quickly.

“what is acculturation?”

“adapting... assimilation to a dominant culture.” rafe reads over the card and then nods, you summed it up well enough, and his need to also cum lets him give you a pass.

“what is the result of acculturation?”

“abandoning of original culture and um… uh…”

“good enough.” rafe tosses the rest of the cards on the floor, smashing your lips together in a kiss.

he thrusts up into you, hitting just the right spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

“can’t last.” you whimper out, bringing a hand down to rub your clit.

“cum for me, smart girl.”

you immediately follow his demand, tumbling over the edge as your legs lock around rafe’s hips, forcing him to cum inside of you.

“there you go.” rafe hushes you as your body slowly stops shaking. “good girl.” he kisses along your shoulders and collar.

“now…” he sits up, letting his cum slide out of you. “what is biculturism?”

#reupload!#rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe fic #rafe fanfic #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron one shot

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hornedstorys · 3 months

Text

POTA Caesar x Reader - Jealous 2/2 - nsfw

Warnings: smut

Content: Caesar can no longer hold back his feelings and instincts and surprises you at the lake - English ist Not my native language

German Version

Lost in thought, you took off your clothes. The weather was fresh, but you needed to cool down. The Monkey King's gaze burned your skin and you wondered why he was staring at Blue Eyes and you like that.

You dipped your toes in the water and shivered, it was chilly. But it didn't stop you from wading further into the water. Ice swimming was supposedly so healthy, you exhaled deeply and felt the pebbly ground beneath your feet.

Lost in thought, you didn't notice the golden-green eyes watching you from the undergrowth. How these eyes with dilated pupils examined your form. Every curve of your body, the goose bumps on your skin and your pulse beating against the skin of your neck.

You went into hiding and left your body to nature. At some point, you were no longer cold, you still hadn't surfaced and you didn't notice the restless shadow on the lake shore staring impatiently at the water.

The next moment, a strong hand grabbed you and pulled you out of the water. Startled, you turned around and stared directly into Caesar's face. Your lips were almost blue and you quickly covered your breasts. Your face full of question marks.

"You shouldn't stay in the cold water for so long," Caesar signed with his hands.

"It can be dangerous, you have no skin. At some point you might not notice the cold and underestimate it." Snorting, he signed his sentence and tried to look you in the eyes and not at your naked form.

You sighed and almost rolled your eyes. You weren't a child anymore, even if you appreciated the concern. Then your brow furrowed.

"What are you doing here, Caesar," you spoke, not wanting to take your hands off your breasts. Which disappointed Caesar a little, but he tried to pull himself together and control himself. His instincts were screaming to make you his. His jaw immediately tightened.

"I was worried about you, you left on your own," he explained curtly and you just nodded. logically.

Caesar's eyelids drooped as his eyes followed the drops on your skin. And there was that jealousy again, that jealousy that he couldn't touch you like that.

"What was that earlier with Blue Eyes?" you pointed out in gestures, not caring now that the humane ape in front of you could see it. Caesar sucked in a sharp breath and tried hard not to look at your hard nipples. Your breasts looked so beautiful and so different from those of a female ape.

They were hard and pebbly from the cold and drops of water slid along them and Caesar's arousal grew but he really tried to concentrate but it was so hard for him. Unaware that he was ignoring your question, he reached out his large, dark hand and ran his fingers over the spot between your breasts.

You sucked in your breath sharply as you realized what the king of the monkeys was doing. He was touching you and he was touching you in a way you hadn't expected him to.

"Let me… warm you," Caesar grunted, his deep, raspy voice snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Caesar…" you breathed and the monkey came closer to you. He was almost half a head taller than you and his warm breath brushed across your face. Hot goose bumps ran over your body.

He smelled of rain and moss, earthy. You couldn't deny that you found the way he smelled arousing. It was an odor that dazed your senses and slowly your hand encircled his wrist between your breasts. Your eyes met and your cheeks began to glow.

No ape in the tribe had the right to look Caesar in the eye so intensely, it had something to do with hierarchy and respect. But with you it was something else. He wanted you to stare at him like that, he didn't want you to show him the respect that the apes from the colony did.

He gently grabbed your hand and released it from his wrist. Then he placed it on his chest, where his heart pounded against his ribcage. Your eyes widened as you felt the strong pounding of his heart so close to your hand.

"You do that," Caesar snorted and you swallowed. Then he let your hand slide further over his upper body, up to his cheek and to his lips. His rough lips gently stroked your palm.

He looked down at you with dark eyes and now you could see the excitement in them. A light came on for you. It all made sense now. Caesar was jealous of Blue Eyes.

You took Caesar's face in your other hand. He snuggled into it fully and it made your heart flutter that the monkey king trusted you so much. He could kill you so easily, his hands were so big that they could almost wrap around your entire neck and all he had to do was squeeze them. But he didn't, he treated you with such care every day, as if you could break from any strong movement.

Gently Caesar's hands gripped your hips and pulled you closer to him, you could feel his arousal against your stomach and you grew hot. He wanted to mate with you and you knew very well that such a bond lasted a lifetime. That's what Maurice had told you once when he taught you more about the colony.

Suddenly you were lifted up and you gasped as Caesar carried you in his arms into the bushes and laid you down on a moss-covered spot. He lay between your legs and you could see his nostrils flaring, greedily sucking in your arousal. You knew you couldn't escape him now, he would claim you. But deep inside you felt that you wanted it. You wanted him, you wanted to be his. For so long. But you never thought that he wanted you too. After all, he could have any female of the tribe, but he chose you, a weak human with no fur.

A hand on your chest woke you from your stupor and your eyes met again.

"Do you…, want it too?" his eyes looked at you piercingly and you were surprised that he asked you, though it was still typical of him. That's what made Caesar different from the other monkeys and men.

"If you agree now… I won't be able to stop," he admonished you, but you could see the gleam in his sparkling eyes. The gleam of hope that you wanted him.

A soft smile came to your lips and you nodded.

"I want it, Caesar. Make me yours," you breathed and that answer was enough for him. He grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his hips. His hands massaged your breasts and a contented sigh left your lips. Caesar purred.

A quick glance at his aroused member told you how ready he was. It was so swollen that you could clearly see it throbbing and it was much bigger and wider than a human man's.

His tip slid along your entrance and you sucked in the air sharply as he slid his member into you. You were so wet just from his touch that it worked without a hitch.

A growl escaped Caesar's throat as your warmth nestled around him and the grip around your hips tightened, but the pain didn't bother you much. It was almost that sweet kind of pain that made you dizzy.

It felt so good and you couldn't stop yourself from moaning. Caesar looked down at you with an even darker expression. He liked the sight of you beneath him, he loved taking you like this, making you his, marking you with his scent so everyone knew.

A hiss came from his throat as you pulled yourself tighter around him. The hiss turned into a gasp and his nostrils flared. You felt as if Caesar's cock was getting bigger and bigger inside you. He stretched you so well that you almost blacked out. His teeth ran over your soft neck and he was about to bite into it, but he knew he couldn't just do that. You were not an ape. He would wait for your permission.

Then he caressed your nipples with his warm tongue and his free hand went to your clitoris. You looked at him, almost confused. How did he know how this worked? But you couldn't waste another useless thought on it as he gently but deliberately massaged your clitoris and you could feel your orgasm building.

You let a happy sound slip over your lips and as Caesar gasped and hissed at his speed you clawed deep into his shoulders and moaned his name as you clutched tightly around his cock and milked him. You could feel it coming over him and, panting, he poured himself into you.

Sweaty and out of breath, you lay there together on the moss and Caesar gently rested his forehead against yours.

"Mine."

#x reader #caesar x reader #the planet of the apes #planet of the apes x reader

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bokutizer · 2 years

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miya atsumu loves you. he loves you aggressively. he loves you brotherly. he loves you so much, it hurts. literally. in other words, he tends to love you the same way he loves his twin brother.

yet, what this huge ape often forgets is that you don’t have his brother’s stature nor his pain tolerance. he means no harm. he swears! he just can’t control himself around you, and neither can he control his own strength, both leading to a few bruises along your arms or a bump on your head every once in a while. (did I mention that he means no harm?) the worst is, even when he accidentally gets a lil' too rough with you, his first reaction is to laugh. like, he'll legit make fun of you.

except he realizes you've gone quiet. too quiet. why aren’t you trying to hit him back? kick him? yell at him? "baby? hey-" it’s in these moments that he wishes your kicks would have the same strength and brutality as 'samu's because, goddamn, he hates being the cause behind those pretty teary eyes. "what-what’s wrong?"

"that hurt, you idiot." you frown at him, your hand pressed against the pulsing pain on the back of your head after your little playful wrestling session ended up with you hitting your head against the headboard of your bed. "shit, 'm sorry. let me see." of course there’s neither blood nor any open wound, yet that’s not a reason for atsumu to be any less dramatic.

"c'mere, let me kiss it better." he pouts at you, his hands holding you with gentleness as he tenderly caresses your head. his kisses feel featherlight as you feel them travel from the back of your head to your face, their warmth seeping into your skin and soothing the dull pain as if they were advil. "'m so, so sorry, princess. won't happen again."

it will, you want to say. but you don’t. because you love miya atsumu. so much. you love they way he is, you love the way he loves.

#atsumu miya #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu x y/n #atsumu fluff #haikyuu atsumu #hq atsumu #atsumu hcs #atsumu fic #atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu drabble #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

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florencemtrash · 1 year

Text

Hummingbird: Chapter Six

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

What if the Earth-1610 (Miles’s universe) version of Miguel’s wife was actually Miles’s AP Art teacher?

Masterlist

Warnings: Mention of violence and injuries

“Why didn’t you call me? Esto nunca debería haber sucedido.”

“Hey, it’s alright. Keep your eyes open ok?”

“Mantén los ojos abiertos. Stay awake, Y/n. Mantente despierto por mí.”

“Is she going to be ok?”

“What’s going on? What happened?!”

You forced your eyes open, blinking the sleep and time from them as your mind slowly worked to clear out the fog. Voices had murmured to you throughout your sleep, whispering words that sounded kind and gentle, but you couldn’t hold onto the specifics of what they said.

Pain shot through uncooperative arms when you tried to sit up in bed, grimacing at the gross taste in your mouth. How long had you been asleep for? The soreness in your back told you it had been a long time.

“Hey, kiddo. Might not want to try that.” Peter said as you struggled. His hand was strong against your back as you shifted restlessly. The sheets smelled of laundry detergent and lemons. Overhead the lights of the Spidey med bay hummed softly.

“Peter?” You muttered groggily. Your vocal cords were tight and gruff like a car engine that had been left idle for too long.

“The one and only!”

You finished clearing out your eyes and your voice. It was good to see a familiar face.

“How long have I been out? I feel like shit.”

“You look like shit too.” He said with a forced grin like he hadn’t just lost one of his best friends, “Do you remember what happened?”

You accepted the water he handed you, downing it in five seconds with a groan. Your hands and arms were wrapped like a mummy’s and you could feel the soft gauze rub against the sensitive skin beneath whenever you moved.

“Yeah… Yeah I think I do.” The IV drip, drip, dripped saline steadily into your arm, “How long have I been out, Peter? You never answered.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, still wearing his pink bathrobe and matching slippers when Mayday was nowhere to be found. At this point fatherhood had become a new superhero role for him, so it made sense he should dress accordingly at work.

“Ten days?”

“Ten days?!” You sat up with a grimace, “Joder.”

Did someone call me out of work? God, I’m hungry. Isn’t Miles’s reference letter due soon? I need a shower. Fuck.

Peter held you down gently when you tried to roll out of bed. If Miguel discovered you’d gotten up on his watch, he’d never hear the end-

“You’re awake.”

Miguel’s frame filled the doorway, a small tray of food held within white-knuckled hands.

You were here. You were safe. He had to keep reminding himself of that.

Shit. Peter B. spun around on his heels, letting you go and spreading his arms open wide like he’d just unveiled a marble statue at a ceremony.

“Surprise!” He sang, your irritated face appearing in Miguel’s vision from around Peter’s back.

You may have been the one to nearly die, but Miguel looked like he’d been put through the ringer. His red eyes were bloodshot and bruised, curls tousled, and shoulders slumped over like a deflated balloon.

“She’s awake! A real fighter, this one.”

Miguel stalked forward, sinking into the seat next to your bed that Peter had abandoned and sliding the tray of food in front of you. Everything about him spoke of exhaustion, but he hid it well as he pressed a hand to your forehead, feeling for a fever. His palm was warm, chasing away some of the pulsing pain in your head.

“How are you feeling?”

Peter B. pouted from behind Miguel. Hey, I’m here too! His expression said, drawing a small smile from you.

“Pretty terrible, I won’t lie. But at least I’m not dead.”

Miguel winced and fell silent. You regretted saying anything.

Peter fluttered around the room like a honey bee, chatting your ear off and taking the edge off of the tension that radiated from Miguel as he dutifully checked over your wounds. He barely said anything, only asking you to open your mouth so he could take your temperature or lift your arm so he could wrap the blood pressure cuff around your bicep.

Everyone had been worried about you, taking turns to sit at your bedside and wait for you to awaken (although the rotation was also made so that Miguel would be forced to take time to rest… He didn’t).

Even some of the Spiders you weren’t familiar with left behind cards and small stuffed bears - a consistent get well gift across universes, although Spider Cat did bring you a packet of catnip. They formed a small mountain of trinkets on the coffee table.

“We’ll leave you alone to rest.” Miguel said bluntly, stopping Peter’s rant in his tracks after seeing your eyes begin to glaze over and flutter shut.

“Oooof, sorry. I didn’t mean to talk your ear off. Hey! If you need anything, just call. I’m sure Miles will stop by later, but I told him you’d be upset if he skipped school. Oh! And I’ll bring Mayday with me next time I visit. She always makes people feel better. Doesn’t she, Miguel?”

Miguel’s neutral expression didn’t budge when Peter nudged him with an elbow. He only continued to herd Peter closer and closer out the door.

“Anyway, I’ll see you later!” Peter said, finally disappearing around the corner. Miguel huffed. Took him long enough.

“Wait!” You called out before Miguel could escape back to his office to brood. “Could-could you stay?” The words tumbled out before you could stop them and you cringed. You didn’t like to ask him for things but… considering the circumstances…

He walked back to you, rigidly sinking back into his seat and pushing the tray closer to you.

“You should eat. Build up your strength.” He said, clasping his hands tightly against his stomach as you hesitated and then began to eat ravenously.

He’d been in your position before - exhausted and confused and reeling from a near-death experience. A pit of shame formed in his stomach. He hadn’t been able to protect you from it. He’d been on edge ever since you’d joined Spider Society and he thought - he’d hoped - that by keeping you from the more dangerous corners of the multiverse, you’d never experience what you’d just gone through. First the incident with the Spot and now this...

“How bad was it?” You asked tentatively, poking at the leftover fries on your plate. You obeyed the comfortable stretch of your stomach, cautious of getting sick after not eating solid food for over a week. “How bad was I?”

“Pretty bad.” Miguel said gruffly and honestly, staring at a blank spot on the wall, “We didn’t think you’d make it for a while.”

You nodded. You remembered bits and pieces of the moment between sending the anomaly back to his dimension and passing out. The electricity flowing through your body had made your skin feel like it was being peeled off the bone, every nerve screaming out in pain until your brain had short circuited and shut itself off. You were lucky that the burns on your arms were all that remained.

“But I did.” You said, gently reminding him. He closed his eyes and dropped his head into his hands. He didn’t think… he couldn’t.

“Migs-”

The nickname threw him off guard. No one had called him that since his wife died.

He stood up so quickly the chair squeaked in protest.

“Get some rest, Y/n.” He said without looking at you, “Call if you need anything.” He tapped the touchscreen device he left on the table - his universe’s version of a cell phone - before striding out the door without another word.

You clenched your jaw and sank back into the pillows, part of you wishing you’d stayed asleep for a little while longer.

It took time for your body to feel like your own again. Most days you shouted at deaf limbs to move smoothly and carry things properly. Miguel had already written to Brooklyn Visions Academy about your medical leave of absence and had even gone so far as to visit your apartment to clean your kitchen and fridge while you remained bedridden at Spidey HQ. But for all the big and small ways he showed you that he cared, he neglected to do one thing - actually talk to you.

You shoved the sketchbook off the table, colored pens and pencils scattering on the floor as you dropped your head into your arms and silently screamed. Nearly a month after your injury and you still couldn’t quite hold things properly.

Your fine motor skills should return over time. Was what Dr. Parker had told you and the words should and time had been rattling around in your brain ever since.

Should or will? And how much time would it take?

“Fingers still not quite working right?” Hobie asked, leaning so far back in his seat with his legs propped up that he was nearly parallel with the floor. He held a tattered book in his hands, shifting colors with every page flip like the world’s worst chameleon.

“No.” You said, smoothing back your hair. You’d lost the bandages, but your skin was still tender to the touch in places and numb in others. Lichtenberg figure scars trailed up from your hands all the way to your collarbone, growing there like lichen on a tree. “It’s gotten better. A lot better. But it’s still not the same.”

“You’ll get there eventually.” Hobie said. He knelt on the floor and started to clean up the mess you had made, “Then you’ll be good as new.”

“How do you know?” You sighed, joining him.

He shrugged, “I don’t. But I was right before about you being able to send someone back to their own dimension without a watch. I’ve got a good feeling I’ll be right about this too.”

He offered you a small smile and a helping hand, both of which you accepted.

You spent the rest of the day together, joined by Peter, Gwen, and Miles who cheered you through your daily exercises. You were getting strong again, albeit slowly.

“I want to see you kiss the ground!”

“Show that stress ball who’s BOSS!”

“Yeah, THROW THAT DONGLE!”

“What did you just call-”

Miguel hovered by the door, never stepping foot into the training room with you in it. Never speaking to you, although he desperately wanted to. When you caught his eye, blinking in surprise as you kneeled in the training ring sweaty and tired, he bolted.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” He muttered to himself as he strode to the office you’d affectionately coined his “vampire lair.” Although he’d kept his distance, he’d never left you alone. When you asked Peter about getting things from your apartment, he was the one who visited your dimension. When you initially had trouble walking after your injury, he was the one who tracked down the best physicians and physical therapist variants he could find. He was breaking protocol left and right to make sure you were ok and he knew it. But...

“Lyla, could you pull up the video?” She didn’t need to ask for clarification on which video. It was always the same one. Always the same happy memory, followed by a terrible and harsh reality.

Gabriella’s smiling face flashed on the screen, her bubbly laughter rising high above Miguel’s own baritone chuckle as she threw her arms around his shoulders and slapped that silly blue bow on his head. He’d taken that video to send to you after she scored the winning goal. You never made it to the game.

It was a painful reminder of everything that was at stake. He’d taken too many liberties, allowed himself to get too close to you. If he lost you like he’d lost Gabriella. He-

“Is that her?”

Miguel’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach.

“Is that Gabriella?” You asked, swallowing thickly as Miguel turned around, leaving the video paused on two smiling faces. He wasn’t smiling now.

“Yes.” He answered softly, guilt heavy on his voice as you moved closer and inspected the girl on screen.

Your breath caught in your throat, coming out as a strangled gasp.

She looked like Miguel… She looked like you…

“She’s got your smile.” You said softly, brushing away the unexpected dampness that had collected in your eyes.

You’d been frustrated all day. Frustrated at yourself for your slow healing and your uncooperative body. When you had come to Miguel’s lair it was with the purpose of yelling at him for not visiting, and part of you still wanted to do that. But seeing him vulnerable and tired in front of his daughter your daughter Gabriella had taken some of the fight out of you.

“I always thought she had yours. Well, the other-”

“I understand, Miguel.”

Silence stretched between you, tense and thin and waiting to be sliced through. You made the move.

“Why haven’t you visited me?” The words came out sharper, more accusatory than you’d expected them to.

Although Miguel flinched on the inside, he forced himself to take that pain and longing and shove it back into the little box he’d crafted for those feelings in the corner of his heart. The little box that you’d been steadily hacking away at from the very moment he met you.

“It wouldn’t have been appropriate.”

“Appropriate? What the hell is that supposed to mean? It’s not appropriate for you to visit a friend?”

His jaw clenched at the word friend. It was a flimsy word, too weak to hold up all the feelings you held for each other. He ignored your question and barrelled through his next words, words that he’d been contemplating over the last month you’d been stuck in the med bay.

“Peter J. says you’re well enough to go back home and back to work if you feel ready. He wants you here every Wednesday at 7pm for the next six weeks-”

“You’re not answering my question-”

“I’ve got a write up for you to bring to any physician in your dimension-”

“Miguel, stop ignoring-”

“If you need documentation. In the meantime-”

“Y ni siquiera me estás escuchando-”

“I’m taking you off the team.”

You took a step back, the realization of what he’d just said hitting you like a slap. “What did you say?”

Miguel gritted his teeth, eyes sliding down to the floor so he wouldn’t have to see that quiet look of devastation on your face. You were having none of it, immediately getting close to him and pressing your hands against his chest. The pads of your fingers were delicate but forceful as they tilted his chin up, forcing him to look into your eyes.

“Miguel, look at me.” Quiet. Desperate.

“I’m taking you off the team.” He repeated, clenching his jaw so tightly he could feel the grinding of his teeth.

“What-why would-why?”

“You almost died, Y/n. That stunt of yours could’ve gotten you killed.”

“Stunt? Is that really what you’re calling it?”

“You’re not cut out for this.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.”

It was bullshit and he did know it.

“We couldn’t call you.” You prodded him with a finger, “We couldn’t trap him using the usual methods. We could barely hold him off long enough for anyone to come help. If I hadn’t done what I did, who the hell knows what would have happened? To Miles. To Gwen. To the millions of people living in New York. You need me Miguel, and not just for the superhero crap.”

What hadn’t occurred to you was that he knew exactly how much he needed you… and that was what terrified him so much.

“The decision’s been made, Y/n.”

“By you. So change it.”

“I’m not changing my decision.” Miguel growled, grabbing the hand that you’d been jabbing him with.

So this was the Miguel that everyone had told you about. Not the soft, brooding, sarcastic man you’d come to know. Not the Spider-Man whose humor revolved around making quippy comments. Not the Spider-Man who claimed to be the roughest and straight-laced of them all while still letting the cooks put his face on their signature burger. Not the smiling, laughing Miguel from the video with a blue bow in his hair.

No. This Miguel was short-tempered and hammered from steel.

So why did he still hold your hand so gently, clutching it to his chest like he wanted to keep you there?

He shrugged you off, finally closing the screen on the video of him and Gabriella. Something about that made your blood boil.

“So what now?” You seethed, refusing to let this go. Not even as his fingers started to fly over the keyboard and his mind struggled to go elsewhere.

“You can go home. You can go back to the med bay.”

You can stay here with me. You can help me get through all of this.

Miguel’s heart screamed at him. His brain screamed back so loudly he felt his hold on his emotions stretch to its breaking point.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

Your voices had been steadily rising throughout the argument. So when his broad shoulders rose and fell with a heavy sigh, one hand coming up to rub at his temples, you thought you’d finally gotten to him.

“¡Dime la verdad, Miguel! Why are you taking me off the team?”

“I told you the truth earlier. You’re not cut out for this.”

“BULLSHIT!”

He slammed his hand down on the keyboard, cracking it in two and sending keys clattering to the floor.

“I’M NOT LOSING YOU!” He roared, eyes alight and burning like the sun itself. “Not again!” His eyes squeezed shut like he couldn’t stand the sight of you, chest rising and falling with desperate gulps of air.

You stood there, lightly swaying on your feet like a boat caught in an unexpected storm.

“I am not your fucking wife.” Your voice cracked, “You didn’t lose me before and unless you tell me to walk out that door right now, you will never lose me. Ok? I will stay here - with you - if you just fucking ask me to.”

You expected something, anything, from Miguel. But after a minute of silence passed with him standing like a statue in front of you, you swallowed your tears before they could fall and blinked away.

It wasn’t your intention to go home. You’d planned to go back to the med bay, curl up, and sleep away your troubles before stealing a watch in the morning. But like a broken dam can’t hold back water, your emotions and powers couldn’t be contained.

When you looked around at your cleaned apartment, the faintest smell of Miguel’s cologne still stuck to the couch pillows, you sank to your knees and started to cry.

<- Previous chapter Next chapter ->

_________

Author's note:

Autumn is here! And the colder, somber atmosphere in the coffee shop today helped inspire this chapter. I had a plan for this fic... I abandoned it long ago. But, that being said, I hope to have things wrapped up in the next 2-3 chapters and to bring some closure to the first multi-chapter fic I will have ever truly completed.

As always, I hope you're all taking care of yourselves and that your Autumn drinks are tasting ✨delicious✨

Love,

Florence B.

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spectrumpulse · 9 days

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youtube

#2024 #music #spectrum pulse #billboard hot 100 #billboard BREAKDOWN #billboard hot 100 september 14 2024 #drake #le sserafim #chris young #chase matthew #a$ap rocky #veeze #lil yachty #Youtube

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inkmonster21 · 27 days

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Hearts Across the Divide

4.) Dancing in Danger

Noa x Fem!Human!Reader

Series Masterlist

~oOo~

You and Noa had made it a regular occurrence to meet in the evening mornings, before daybreak at the waterfall. Sometimes you’d play your instrument and relax without exchanging many words. Somedays you two would have in-depth conversations challenging everything you knew. How could someone, an ape, a completely different species, have so much in common with your own soul?

This particular morning, Noa was there first. His back turned to you while he looked down into the water below. He couldn’t help but feel connected with such a structure. Especially with you nearby. The force and strength of the emotions towards you reminded him of the rushing waters.

"Hello," he called, hearing your footsteps on the forest floor behind him. You smile at him, “You’re here earlier today.” He looks away, sheepishly smile on his face, “could not sleep.”

Noa was usually a good sleeper, but ever since you two became friends, he always thought about you right before he went to bed, which kept him awake longer. Noa glanced up at the sky where it was still dark, a few faint stars still visible, and then he looked back to you. "Come sit," he said, patting the spot next to him on the cold rock.

You take the spot next to Noa. Scooting close as if on accident. Your limbs almost grazed each other. If one of you were to move you’d be in physical contact. The thought bites away at your brain.

Eagle Sun lands on the rock in front of you looking at you expectantly. You look at the bird with a small smile. “I didn’t forget about you.” You say before digging into your bag and retrieving a rabbit's foot for the eagle.

Noa watched as you reached into your bag and pulled out a snack for the bird. "Sun likes you more… than me," he teased. Shrugging with a reply, “I’m just likable. That’s all.” Noa rolls his eyes, “is that so?”

“I like to think so. You like spending time with me instead of your clan. I must be somewhat likable.” You smirk at him. Your heart flutters as he smiles wide, his canines grazing his lips. How you wish you could just meet yours in such a passionate manner. But you refrain.

Noa's smile widened at your observation. He couldn't deny that he did seek you out every day and stayed with you for as long as he could. He leaned closer to you.

"You're more… than likable," he whispered, his voice low and filled with warmth. Noa wished he had the words to convey exactly what made him feel, but he didn’t believe there was even a way to describe you in your language either.

Noa watched as your face flushed red with heat at his words, and he couldn't help the sly smile that spread across his lips. He loved the way your cheeks would always turn rosy when he complimented you. He moved even closer to you, so close that he could see the rapid beat of your pulse at your neck. His hand came up and gently brushed along your jawline.

The both of you were fully aware that these feelings were wrong, that you should not feel this way about him, nor you. Yet, when he was this close to you, the thought faded from his mind. Your presence alone was enough to make all rational thoughts disappear. His hand moved from your jaw to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair.

Noa could read your expressions and understand every little thing you did. He knew your little quirks and all your habits. It was as if he had known you your whole life, even though it had only been a few months.

“Can I show you something?” You ask in a soft tone. You wanted to share every little secret you held. Noa was a bit surprised by your sudden question, and he took a moment to admire the way you looked so close to him before answering. "Yes," he said, his voice softer than he intended.

You stand offering your hand to him. Knowing full and well he of course didn’t need it. You didn’t let go either as he came to stand.

“Follow me.”

The two of you making your way down, beside the rushing water. Noa watched as you led him closer to the waterfall, his grip on your hand still firm. “Do you trust me?” You asked him. He didn't even need to think. "I trust you," he replied confidently, his eyes locking with yours.

Noa's eyes widened in surprise as you led him through the small gap behind the waterfall. When you came through to the other side, he couldn't believe how different and quiet it was here. The roar of the waterfall was muffled behind the thick curtain of water. It was almost like a whole different world.

"Whoa..." he breathed, his eyes darting around the cavern.

You had found this cavern years ago. Since then it had become your very own secret. Not even Loui or mother knows this location. This is where you stash all the human relics you found while exploring the overgrown city.

Noa was completely in awe as he looked around the hidden cavern. He could see all the human relics you had collected and he was amazed. He let go of your hand and walked over to one of the relics, picking it up and examining it closely.

He looked at a small pocket watch, flipping it over and trying to open it. "Did you find all this… yourself?" he asked in amazement, his eyes wide as he looked back at you.

You take the pocket watch and open it for him showing him the face of the cracked clock forever stuck at 3:29 am.

You with a smile as you watch him examine the watch. “Must have gotten close… to the ruins to find… all this," he said, still impressed by your collection.

He then turned his attention back to the other relics, picking up a small book and flipping through the pages. You nod, “I’m not allowed to explore there much. I have to sneak away to do it.” You smirk at your rebellious behavior.

Noa hummed slightly at your mention of sneaking away to explore the city. Possibly the two of you could go sometime. "Sneak away? Just like… now?" he said, raising an eyebrow at you with a smirk of his own. You stare at him, the smirk continuing to spread. “Yes, like now.”

Noa stares admiring the way your eyes sparkled in the dim light of the cavern. He took another step closer to you, his chest almost touching yours. "What would…they do? if they found… us?" he repeated, his voice dropping an octave lower. You ponder on the thought. Truly not knowing the answer. You would expect the worst but hope the best.

Noa watched as you pondered the question.

A small part of him knew that what he was doing right now was dangerous, and he could only imagine what the rest of the clan would say if they found out. But he couldn't stop himself. He moved even closer to you, his chest now brushing against yours, and he gently took your chin in his fingers.

Your breath stills in your chest at such proximity to Noa. He could feel your breath against his chest, making his heart thump faster in his chest. His eyes were fixed on yours, his fingers still holding your chin, gently caressing your skin. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, and he could smell the scent of your hair. Noa’s mind began to cloud as he inched closer.

So close to bringing the two of you together. Inches now. Foreheads almost resting against one another. But your name is called through the trees. You still recognize Loui’s voice.

Noa remained close to you, his fingers still holding your chin. His forehead almost pressed against yours. The disappointment on your face was clear as you huffed at Loui's timing. Noa understood exactly how you felt because he was feeling the same. All he wanted was to spend more time with you, just the two of you. He took a step back, releasing your chin, silently frustrated as he regained his composure.

Noa looked down at the book still clutched in his hand. The moment with you had just been interrupted, and he had to bite back the disappointment that came with it.

He looked back up at you and handed you the book, his eyes still lingering on you for a moment longer before he glanced back at the entrance of the cave. You shake your head and push the book into his chest. “Keep it.” A smile on your face. You wanted him to have something besides simple memories to remember you by when the morning ended and the rest of the day began.

Noa looked down at it and then back up at you, his heart swelling slightly in his chest. He took the book back from you, holding it carefully in his hands. He knew he would treasure it, not for the contents of the book itself but for the reason behind it. He wanted to say something, to tell you how much he appreciated the gesture, but the words got stuck in his throat.

Noa listened as Loui called your name again, this time closer than before. He could tell how much you hated the interruption, and he hated it just as much. He took a small step closer to you again, his eyes filled with frustration but also something else hidden within.

“I have to go.” You whisper with regret.

Noa nodded reluctantly, his heart heavy with disappointment. "I know..." he said quietly, his eyes not leaving yours as you spoke. He reached out and gently took your hand in his, his fingers enveloping yours. "Will I…see you tomorrow?" You nod with a smile. “Just like every other morning. I will be here.” You bring his hand up to your face, planting a light kiss on his palm. You wave a silent goodbye before backing away and emerging from the cave.

As Noa felt your lips on his palm, a tingle ran through his hand and up his arm. It was such a small gesture, but it meant so much to him. He watched as you backed away from him, disappearing from sight from behind the waterfall before he stepped further into the cavern. He clutched the book to his frame, his mind still racing from the moment before the interruption.

You climbed up the rocks to meet Loui, still feeling slightly dazed after the moment in the cave. you looked at him as he asked where you had been, "Sorry, I was just..." you trailed off, your mind still consumed by the memory of Noa’s touch. “Busy.”

Loui looked at you with a confused expression as you finished your sentence. "Busy?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Doing what?"

“That’s for me to worry about.”

Loui watched as you walked away from the waterfall, his confusion still evident on his face.

"You're being… secretive," he called after you, his eyes narrowing as he followed you. You look at Loui, “How? I come here all the time. I have for years.” Loui looked back at you, clearly unsatisfied. Yes, this was one of your most frequent locations, but you’d been disappearing more lately, for longer periods at a time. “don’t understand what is so fun… about old waterfall… you seen many times.” You smirk with a shrug, “Me either, brother.”

Loui caught your smirk, and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He knew you were keeping something from him, he just couldn’t figure out what. “Whatever you’re doing…” he said, trying to maintain his composure, “I will find out.” You narrow your eyes, “oh I’m sure.” Loui met your narrowed eyes with his own, a hint of annoyance in his gaze. "I will.” He said, his voice adamant. “You are not good… at hiding things… known you since young….I can tell when you’re… hiding something,” he said pointedly, his eyes still locked with yours.

You brush off the subject, “Why did you come looking for me anyways?” Loui could tell you were trying to change the subject, but he wasn’t quite done with it yet.

“Mother was looking… needed help with young.” You hadn’t realized how long you’d spent in the cave until suddenly the day had slipped by without you realizing. Loui watched you closely, still curious about the way you were disappearing more often. “Sorry.”

He shrugged at your comment, “You were gone… half the morning.” Loui could see the guilt in your expression, and he knew you didn’t like neglecting your responsibilities.

Noa rode back towards the clan on his horse, his thoughts still consumed by the time spent with you. The book you had given him was safely tucked away in the satchel hanging alongside his horse’s saddle.

He couldn’t help but smile at how you had gifted it to him, insisting he keep it. The gesture had meant a great deal to him.

He knew that the gesture of giving him the a gift, such as the book you gave him, was a significant sign in his clan, typically a way to show someone that you’re interested. Was that how you meant it? Did you have the same feelings he did? He hoped so. The possibility of it only made his heart race. He had no way to confirm without risking everything the two of you had.

Upon his arrival to the Clan, Anaya notices, “There you are.” He says walking up to Noa.

He dismounted from his horse and looked at his sunset sibling. “Here I am,” he said simply, trying to act as nonchalantly as possible.

Anaya’s eyes roamed over Noa, taking in his appearance, messy fur slightly out of place. He obviously hadn’t groomed, other things more present in his mind. It was clear he’d been running around somewhere.

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Where were you? Never disappeared… like that before.”

Noa was caught off guard by his friend’s question. He didn’t want to lie, but he couldn’t tell him the truth either. Not until he understood his own feelings.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to stall for time. “I just… was scouting the land.” he said tentatively, hoping the excuse was good enough.

Anaya studied Noa, his head slightly tilted to the side, still not completely convinced. Noa shifted awkwardly, silently cursing himself for not coming up with a better excuse.

He tried to maintain a neutral expression, attempting to appear innocent and unbothered by his friend’s scrutiny.

As the two apes walked further into clan territory, Noa’s feet unconsciously led him towards the eagle enclosures. Responsibilities tugged at his mind, reminding him of his duties.

Anaya followed closely behind, still eyeing him with a hint of skepticism. Noa tried to act normal as he approached the eagle enclosures, silently praying that his behavior wouldn’t give him away.

Anaya stopped walking, standing in front of Soona. He watched as Noa disappeared into the rebuilt structure, his brow furrowed in concern. “Noa… acting strange.”

He glanced back at Soona and spoke quietly. She looks at Noa’s disappearing frame. “He is spending much time… outside clan… does not say where.”

As Noa walked into the eagle enclosure, he was greeted with a chorus of respectful acknowledgment. The apes in the enclosure called out to him with reverence, for he was, the Master of Birds. He nodded in response, a small smile on his face. He may have had other things on his mind, but the weight of his position of ‘Master of Birds' was not one he took lightly.

Noa was well aware of the legacy his father had left behind. The shadow of his father's leadership loomed over him, and he was determined to be a worthy successor. He wanted to lead the clan with the same wisdom and strength that his father had. It was a significant pressure, but it also served as fuel for his determination to live up to his father's reputation.

Dar sees her son upon his entrance. “Son.” Noa was looking over the birds in the enclosure when he heard his mother's voice. He turned to greet her. “Mother.” he said, a small smile on his face.

As his mother approached, her eyes roamed over his appearance, taking in the messy state of his fur and the fact that he was clearly ungroomed. Her face held a hint of disapproval. Noa huffed in annoyance as his mother started to groom him, ruffling his already messy fur even more. He tried to resist, but his mother's determined hands and sharp eyes made it clear that resisting would be futile. “Such a mess, son.”

Noa grumbled under his breath as his mother continued to groom him, fixing his messy fur. “I was exploring,” he tried to explain, but his mother tutted at his excuse. “Must hold look… of a leader, son.” Noa rolled his eyes as his mother lectured him about his appearance. “I know,” he said, his voice a mix of annoyance and resignation. “I was not expecting… to be judged… on my grooming skills.” Dar stares at her son, “or lack of.”

Noa huffed again as his mother continued to fuss over his appearance. He knew she was right; as a leader, he had a responsibility to maintain a certain level of dignity and appearance. Still, it was irritating to be lectured like a child, especially when he had more pressing matters on his mind. Noa hadn't even realized how disheveled his appearance had become. He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts about you that he hadn't even taken the time to groom himself properly. It wasn't until his mother had pointed it out that he became aware of how bad he must have looked.

“You were gone again… before sunrise,” Dar stated wondering. Noa looked away from his mother's gaze, knowing that she was referring to his earlier disappearance. He hadn't expected her to bring it up, but he should have known she would. “Yes… scouting the area,” he said, repeating the same excuse he had given earlier. His voice was slightly strained, as he tried to keep his true thoughts hidden.

Dar studied her son, trying to decipher the truth behind his words. She could tell he was hiding something, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what.

She paused in her grooming, her eyes searching his face. “You have been gone… a lot.” “There is a lot of land… still unexplored… want to be ready… if something happens again.”

Dar's eyebrows furrowed slightly as Noa explained his absence. “I understand your desire to be prepared, but you disappear so much… I worry.”

Noa could sense the concern in his mother’s voice. He knew she was worried about his disappearance, but he couldn't tell her the real reason behind his frequent absences. Someone had to be here to take care of such responsibilities when Noa was absent. “The elders met today.” Noa's attention was brought back to the present. He had been so consumed by thoughts of you that he hadn't even noticed the mention of the elders. He looked at his mother, his interest piqued.

“Spoke of you.” Dar states. He tried to keep his voice neutral as he asked, “What did they say?” Dar was silent for a moment. “They think it is time… you choose a mate.” Noa's heart skipped a beat as he heard his mother's words. He knew this topic had been on the elders’ minds for a while, but he hadn’t thought they would bring it up so soon. He tried to maintain a calm exterior as he responded to his mother, "A mate?"

Noa's mind raced as his mother discussed the elders' expectations. He couldn't even begin to fathom the idea of choosing a mate from among the apes. Not when you consumed his thoughts and sent his heart racing. Even the mere thought of it made him feel guilty.

He cleared his throat, trying to hide his inner turmoil. “I see.”

Dar began again. “There are many females… who would be suitable… for clan leader.” Noa felt a pang of guilt in his chest as his mother spoke. He knew there were many young females who would be suitable mates for a clan leader. But the mere thought of choosing one of them made him feel uneasy. They were not you.

“I… I do not think… I am… ready.”

Noa's voice was firm as he told his mother he wasn’t ready to take a mate. He tried to sound confident, but it was difficult to hide the uncertainty he was feeling inside. He couldn't explain the conflicting emotions within him, the turmoil of his attraction to you, and his duties to his clan.

Dar looked at her son with a mixture of concern and disappointment. She had expected he would be ready, but it was clear that he wasn't. She placed a hand on his shoulder, her gaze gentle. “I said you would refuse… but…” Noa braced himself for what his mother was about to say. He knew that Dar was not the type to back down easily, and he had a feeling she had a plan in mind. “Maybe… pick someone of friendship… Soona…”

Noa's eyes widened at his mother's suggestion to choose Soona as a mate. She was a close friend, yes, but Noa had never considered her as more than that. He looked at his mother, "Soona?" he repeated, trying to understand her reasoning.

The thought of being with her didn’t ignite the same fire that he felt when thinking about you. But he knew that the pressure from the elders - and especially from his mother - was not something he could ignore. He took a deep breath, trying to quell the storm of emotions within him. "I will… think about it." he said quietly, hoping it would appease his mother.

Night had fallen, and Noa laid in his nest, his mind consumed by thoughts of you. He replayed scenes of your time together in his head over and over, analyzing every moment and subtle exchange of words.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that this was wrong. He was an ape, destined to lead his clan, and yet here he was, completely enamored with a human.

Noa's mind slipped into a dream state as he slowly drifted off to sleep. His surroundings faded away, and he found himself in the familiar cave that he had shared with you. You were there with him, a sense of comfort washing over him as your presence enveloped him.

In the dream, Noa’s hand instinctively reached out to hold your chin, his touch gentle and firm. He drew you closer, his eyes fixed on yours. The distance between you felt impossibly small, the air thick with tension.

“Noa.” You whispered so softly.

His heart skipped a beat as he heard you whisper his name. The sound of it on your lips sent a shiver down his spine. He leaned closer to you, his voice barely above a whisper in response.

Noa rested his forehead against yours, a sigh escaping him. The tension between you was palpable, his emotions swirling in a tangle of confusion and desire. The physical touch, however slight, felt both intimate and forbidden at the same time.

In the dream, Noa wanted to touch you, to explore every inch of your body and commit it to memory. The desire filled him with a fierce need, a need that he couldn’t ignore. His eyes filled with a mix of desire and restraint as he ached to give in to his instincts.

He reached his hand out, his fingers gently tracing the outline of your jaw. The touch was soft and tentative, almost as if he feared that you would disappear if he tried to hold on any tighter. He wanted to pull you closer, to feel your body pressed against his.

With ease you leaned into his hold and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling your heads closer together, Noa felt his heart rate quicken. The feel of your arms around him sent a surge of heat through his body, and he found himself unable to keep his hands from your waist, gently gripping the fabric of your clothes.

“Noa.” You whisper again breathlessly.

In response to your whispered breathless call of his name, Noa feels his body react instantly, his grip on your waist tightening instinctively. The sound of his name on your lips in that soft, breathless tone sent a shiver down his spine, and he leans even closer to you, his heart racing. "Yes?" he murmured quietly, his voice laced with a hint of desire.

“Wake up!”

Noa's dream-state suddenly began to blur and shift, your words penetrating through the haze. As he slowly became aware of his physical surroundings, he could still feel the ghost of your touch, your voice lingering in his ears.

As his eyes opened, he found himself in his nest, the memory of your dream-self still fresh in his mind.

Anaya sits on all fours looking at his friend with confusion. “Crying… in your sleep. Thought you were… hurt.”

Noa blinks awake, disoriented for a moment as he realizes that he's no longer in his dream. Anaya's voice breaks through the fog of sleep, and Noa sits up, still trying to get his bearings.

When Anaya mentions crying in his sleep, Noa feels a pang of embarrassment. He hadn’t even realized he had been crying out in his sleep. though it was no cry of pain.

"fine," he reassures his friend, his voice still rough with sleep and confusion. Anaya looks at his friend. “You can tell Anaya… anything.”

Noa's gaze meets Anaya's, a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion. Part of him wanted to shut down, to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself. But deep down, he knew he needed someone to talk to. Someone he could trust.

He takes a shuddering breath, still trying to shake off the remnants of his dream.

"I… had a dream," he confesses quietly.

Anaya nods, still not understanding. “About?”

Noa's mind flashes back to the dream, the vivid memory of you still fresh in his mind. He hesitates for a moment before answering.

"About someone..." he begins. The words feel strange coming out of his mouth, and he can’t bring himself to just come out and say it. He looks down, fidgeting with a loose strand in his bedding.

Anaya smirks and hoots with laughter. “I knew it! Noa sneaking off… very odd.” Noa can't help but roll his eyes at Anaya's reaction. He should have expected this from his friend, always so curious and perceptive. Noa sighed. “You can not… tell anyone, Anaya.”

Noa's voice is serious as he speaks to his friend. The last thing he wanted was for anyone else, especially the elders, to find out about his feelings. Anaya nodded with an understanding. This was to be kept between the brothers for now.

Noa talked, pouring out his thoughts and feelings about you to his friend. He revealed everything, from the first time he laid eyes on you to the way his heart raced when you were near. But the one secret he kept to himself was your true identity as a human. As he spoke, Noa's expression was a mixture of longing and confusion, his voice growing softer as he confessed his conflicted emotions.

Noa could see the happiness in Anaya's smile, and a small part of him felt relieved and validated in sharing his feelings. But the larger part of him was still filled with anxious uncertainty. “But you understand… why I can not pursue these… feelings… any further?" he asked, his voice tinged with resignation. Anaya innocently ponders, “Why not?”

Noa let out a heavy sigh. He had expected this question from Anaya.

"Because..." he began, struggling to find the right words. "Because she's not… from Eagle Clan. And I am first and only son. I have duties… responsibilities to the clan."

Anaya shrugs, “Eagle Clan always accepting… especially if she makes Noa… happy.” Noa lets out a sigh. A stark reminder of the huge obstacle that stands between them. “Maybe.”

As Noa settled back down in his nest, his gaze drifted towards the stars once more. The countless twinkling lights fill his vision, but all he can think about is you. The thought of you staring up at the same stars as he was sent a pang of longing through his heart. He imagined your face, your eyes, the things that he couldn’t have. He closed his eyes, hoping that somehow, somewhere, you were thinking of him too.

#noa planet of the apes #pota noa #noa pota #noa #noa x human reader #noa x reader #kingdom of the planet of the apes #owen teague

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junkienet · 2 months

Text

✱ CANINE ROUTE ？ warrior koba.

fluff ⌇ missing a partner undertone ⸻ ﹙ 𝒜lt ﹒ universe ﹚ established relationships. 𝒻.ᐟreader

EARLIER IN THE MORNING ◞ 06 : 45 o ' clock. ⸻ after a long night of tussle.

when the bonobo awakens, a sunbeam sketches his scarred cheek. it outlines the tumefied and leaden flesh , from his temple , to the cheesy apex of his chaffed lips. koba offers his teeth in a boastful roar , fangs flashing aureus. his snarl slumped in ajar on his entombed trunk , and scratches the hairless region of his scapulae , shooing away a pair of chattering mosquitoes.

he sways unwittingly , milky eye scrutinized. to the right , the silhouette of a knotted mane and bleak sweater is stamped in the distance , at the edge of his hut. he spit a smack of his lips in pique , steepening sideways to thrust himself upward with a strangled hoo. his corporeal weight cascades on his hip—joints , his calfed loin erupts like a porcupine , ambombanding into an oval. his scent of rainy gravel, tart blackberries and hint of mint perfumes the structure of his periphery. he thwacks his nest , bellowing towards the algidity that possessed your grizzly bearskin quilt. the coast of his mouth reclines skyward in a grimace of tribulation , amalgamating his thick chin with impassivity. you had risen early , he misty deduced.

koba panted a grunt. he abhorred losing sight of you and a cold nest.

with a haughty wobble, he bursts from amidst the duvets and shanks with a rocking of taut shoulder—blades and obstinate haunches. his fists crackled the surface beneath his hooves , the morning gale coercing the end of his scorched ear. he sniffs the air that rod's at your braid , grumbling in a wan cadence. his snout strays into the road of your pharynx , between the unevenness of the hood of your olive coat and the throbbing indigo artery. he snuff sequentially. the peak of his canine unpicks the vestige of your pulse , where the stench of rainy gravel, tart blackberries and a hint of mint clusters. the bonobo drinks the bubbling of your saturated skin , and the cloying rattle of your small gasp.

your fingers , languid and gelid , scribble the wrinkles of its elephantine digits , reciprocating his assiduous , foreign greeting. the ape falls on his backside , his knuckles drawing on the hill of your shoulder , in a tottering reminder of his prickling presence. both of you rejoice in the muir woods foliage of gloom and shrubbery from the hut.

#﹙ ⭑. ﹚ ⸻ 𝓒haos .ᐟ #planet of the apes #koba #dawn of the planet of the apes #planet of the apes x reader #koba x reader #koba x human reader #koba pota #pota koba

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corpsebasil · 1 year

Note

Can you do smut with Nikolai getting a blowjob? Like he’s always going down on the reader so like the roles switch or smth?

Time for Nikky Boy to get some action

warnings: p0rn with little plot lol; oral (m) receiving

————

You felt slightly unhinged.

You’d been your Prince’s lover and crew-mate for a while now and while you were into him with his royal suits and combed hair, something about the tousled curls and privateer persona made your stomach twist.

You leaned against the wall during the meeting he’d called you into, listening as the Sun Summoner and..whatever his name was, discussed passage. You felt your skin growing tight as you watched his side profile, your eyes transfixed on his mouth as he spoke, his intimidating nature distracting you from guarding him.

He’d always been this way as Sturmhond. He turned up the charm times a thousand, pulled out every cocky and sarcastic comment in his arsenal and even around you, who knew better, he shamelessly flirted with as if he wasn’t a prince.

As soon as the two left Nikolai ran a hand over his face, leaning back into his chair. He glanced over at you, blue eyes shadowed by the dim lighting of his office as he raised an eyebrow.

“Whatcha thinkin’?” He asked, standing up to shrug off his heavy coat. His pistol lay discarded on the desk, a tool used to threaten Alina and Baldie, and you’d almost laughed earlier when he’d taken it out. “Let em’ stay?”

It took you a moment to respond as he pushed the sleeves up of his white shirt, the top few buttons undone. The golden skin of his arms caught the light of the lanterns and you nodded, forcing yourself to focus.

“I don’t see why not.” You said breezily, one boot propped against the wall, your arms crossed over your chest. “But we both know you’re not just in this for money.” You smirked. “You gonna sell her to yourself? Accept the reward you’re offering?”

“Nothing like a bit of motivation.” He said, his grin a slash of white as he shuffled some papers on his desk, tapping them together in a neat stack. “We need a symbol. She’s that.”

“She seems..” you furrowed your brows. “…less confident than she acts. I know a front when I see one.”

“Oh yeah?” Nikolai teased, approaching you. “How many fronts have you seen in your lifetime, soldier?”

“Enough to know when someone’s acting.” You purred, but your pulse betrayed you as he neared, his hand reaching out to grab onto your belt loop and yank you into him.

“And what front are we putting on, love?” He asked, eyes heavy-lidded as he leaned in, lips pressing against the side of your neck. Your head tilted involuntarily at the sensation. “Solider and Captain?” He asked, lips moving lower. “Prince and Grisha?” He nipped your skin and you jolted, your hand grabbing onto his generous bicep. “Friends?”

“We are friends.” You mumbled, breath catching as he bit and then licked over a spot on your collarbone.

“We haven’t been friends for a while, sweetheart.” He chuckled and pulled away, headed to the door. “We should go and—”

But you stopped him, lunging out to grab his wrist. He turned in surprise, raising his brows. His eyes seemed to scan over your face, taking in your flushed features; your pulse was beating so fast in your neck you were sure he could see the skin jump. His smirk was lazy as he locked the door and moved back over, his heavy-ringed hand reaching for your waist.

“Desk or wall?” He murmured against your mouth, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and pulling. But you surprised him by pushing him backwards, towards his chair, separating your mouth from his as he dropped down into it. His hands were already going to his belt as you hovered over him, your teeth sinking down harshly into your lip. “Shit—you want to ride me, or—?”

“No.” You interrupted, ignoring his confused look as you sank down onto the floor, grasping at his waistband. His stunned look lasted approximately .5 seconds before he was helping you get him out of his trousers, a sheen of sweat already appearing on his brow.

“Fuck—are you sure?” Nikolai asked, a bit breathless as he watched you drag the rest of his clothing separating you from him off, leaving him only in his dress shirt. You’d done this before, sure, but drunkenly and only for about thirty seconds before he couldn’t wait any longer to have you. “What’s gotten into you—” his mouth fell open when you took him in your hand, experimentally running your closed fist down the smooth skin of him. He gritted his teeth.

“Been thinking about you the whole meeting.” you mumbled, moving further between his legs. “Looking like a fucking godsend.” Your words had his eyes half closed into slits as you licked the tip of him, feeling his hips stutter around you. One of your hands rested on his firm thigh as you licked again, a tiny kitten lick that drove him crazy.

“Yeah?” He panted, his hands gripping the sides of his chair as he watched you; your tongue ran along the length of him, your hand following the rise and descent of your soft muscle. “Fuck—what were you thinking of?”

“This.” You admitted and ran your tongue over the head of him. “You being all cocky and shit turns me on.”

“We always do fuck the filthiest when I’m Sturm—shit.” His head fell back a fraction when you took him into your mouth, sucking slowly, your mouth getting him as wet as you could to make it easier. His chest was already rising and falling rapidly and you’d barely started. “Y/N, shit.”

“Hmm?” You hummed, and took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks out as you began a slow, torturous rhythm with your mouth. The warmth of you—the wetness—it was driving him mad. Especially when you began sucking him harder, your tongue spoiling him with licks and swirls, your eyes watering at the feeling of something so big filling your entire mouth.

“Saints—” he groaned, reaching out to take a fist of your hair, trying not to pull too hard as his hips lifted a fraction. When your eyes moved to his he almost lost it. He gritted his teeth and, when you didn’t protest, began to set the pace himself, your tongue and hollowed cheeks squeezing him so hard it was almost painful. “Oh god.”

The breathy plea left him and you didn’t stop, your nails digging into his thigh as he used your mouth, hips lifting to meet your lips with every downward push. The sounds he was making were music to your ears; you could hear his breath catching, your eyes locked on his face as he cursed and gasped, trying to stay as silent as possible with the crew not far from his office.

You felt him twitch and you sucked harder, his eyes closing and his head falling back on a barely suppressed groan. You swallowed up every bit of him, almost gagging as you choked, but when you pulled away and wiped your mouth off, he was staring at you with such a fucked-out look of adoration it sent a pang of desire straight between your legs.

“Saints, Y/N.” He mumbled, sweat making his curls stick to his forehead. “Desk, now.”

lololol

#shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #wattpad #nikolai x reader #shadow and bone imagine #fluff #six of crows #smut #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lanstov x y/n #nikolai lantsov smut #sturmhond x reader #sturmhond #sturmhond smut

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the-monkeies-girl · 3 months

Text

Savior Complex. ( Noa x Human! Reader. ) Part 9.

ack

Title: Savior Complex. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Violence, injury, blood, implication of non-consensual happenings. NOTHING NON-CONSENSUAL ACTUALLY HAPPENED/HAPPENS. ) Pairing: Implied! Noa x Human! Reader. Words: 6.4K+ Summary: Noa knew now. He needed to corrupt himself to keep you safe.

READ THE SERIES HERE.AO3 ( Working on adding the chapters. )

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“What does… Death mean to Echo?”

Noa liked to do this, you noticed in the time you had been at the Clan. Only a month or so, but long enough for you to establish relative behavior that turned into small patterns that you were able to recognize. Very much in the same vein that you knew him to wake up before everyone else, to go to the Eagle Enclosure, to hear his singing and proceeding to forget it throughout the day as you were indirectly taking in something you weren’t meant to, that was not meant for Humans, you knew his tendencies.

It was not like it was difficult, after all, Apes… Were very open as far as that went. Privacy seemed the way of the past for them, and it was exclusive to Humanity, or Echo, through and through. They shared things, their conversations all held incredible meaning even if it were simply jokes and pesterance.

As much as you tried to shove aside your feelings for it and to remain as neutral as possible given the circumstances that landed you in the Clan, it was hard not to find it somewhat admirable as your self-loathing piqued intensely at the prospect that… You were told your entire life that they were nothing more than savage beasts.

Reaching down, you let your fingers drift right over the injury on the calf you had sustained from a group of them trying to kill you. It was fading now, scab turning over a new leaf into a silver indentation, a few inches long and it was still tender but it was a stark course of the reminder of who you were, versus who they were. The first question always hit your mind at times like this, times of intense juxtaposition. Where Noa was very obviously seeking a certain answer and yours was not going to satisfy his insatiable need for you to answer it correctly. Were Apes and Humans… Able to live side by side?

Burrowing your eyebrows at the intensity of the question posed by Noa just a few seconds ago, you found yourself replaying it over and over again in your head to the point where his carefully placed phrasing and infliction all sounded sort of dull. It had a multitude of answers, you knew that. And based on the fact that Noa even thought to ask you, it meant that he had a fixed belief, most likely based upon the customs of his Clan from generations ago who planted the very seeds.

Taking your time in contemplation, you dug your fingers into the dirt that you were sitting on top of, letting your eyes drift towards the Chimp who had his back facing your own, his hand tentatively playing with the water of a small stream that seeped into the larger river near the Colony. Where life began, where life ended. Tilting your head at that thought springing to mind at the mere sight of water, silence beckoned you to follow her into an abyss where there were no logical answers and you still found yourself sifting through them in hopes that you could find one to appease him, that tiny bit of yourself convinced that he would attack if you were to answer unfavorably.

Fists drawn into themselves, your knuckles turned white out of mere frustration. Why did he have to pick such difficult questions for you to answer? Why couldn’t he just ask about… Something… Mundane? You knew that wasn’t the point of the agreement you had made, the first time your hands touched upon the understanding as you literally grasped hands to seal the deal. Flashing your digits outwards, you pulsed them to get the blood flowing again.

Death could mean nothing, you could retort with utmost confidence despite not actually knowing but that seemed abhorrently sadistic and you crossed it off the list. It could mean something beyond our control, you could be more optimistic rather than dally in the vague notions that death was truly the end of the line for all living creatures. Drawing a deep breath in, you felt your lungs expanding against your ribs and diaphragm, Noa reacting to the sound itself as he turned his head slightly to the side as you exhaled.

What do you tell an Ape expecting to hear one thing that his entire notion, his entire premise of death and the afterlining of it were not the same culturally? He had to know it was different, that whatever you were going to tell him might not be the same as what he believed his entire life. After all, here you were, Human to Ape, speaking after being torn away from the concept for years upon years of conditioning.

It could send him into a shock, into a flurry of worry and he could end up tearing apart his entire Village in search of the metaphorical answers that always fell behind the inquiry he so blessed you with this Fall afternoon. That was the bargain he made with himself every morning with Noa rose to tend to the birds, singing to them and hoping that the Elders of the past would forgive his trespasses, selfish and needy, towards knowledge that was not available to them because he wanted more. A breeze drew your scent to him, more inviting now that he had gotten to know you a bit more ardently, not on the verge of hostilities towards each other any longer, but now teetering up a delicate tightrope between occult trust and toleration. Green eyes were fixated on the foliage in front of him, trees turning from their happy Summer indentations into the more alluring oranges, yellows, darkened and flushed browns of Fall.

It was this time of year that Noa noticed his coat of fur thickening in preparation of the colder months, and he found himself vaguely curious as to what Echo did during these times. He thought to ask --- But, after contemplation and restlessly obsessing about it, he figured it was a very personal question and left it to stick on the pin-board in the back of his mind. Maybe, he thought to himself and shut his eyes pensively, the water rushing between the hardened pads of his fingers, if you were to bring it up he’d find a justification for asking you what you would do - how you prepared.

That in itself was not what was truly on his mind, Noa knowing fully well that the question he brought to the front of today’s conversation, was a very loaded one indeed. He wanted to know, his gaze drifted to the sky above, alight happily with the same blue that chased the moon away and clung desperately to the loneliness of the sun, just what it meant to someone else. Someone who shared nothing of his ideas, pressing that… That his Father was truly watched over him. That his Father guided him in life now, after promises of many lessons to teach before he was taken away.

Noa never felt intended for the name ‘Master of the Birds’ because his Father never put blind faith in his abilities, never harbored them like he should have, like his Mother often did. His Father, soaring high up above the blue sky, high above the curvature of the Earth, led a helping hand in Noa’s decision now, and that caused him to scoff it off. Deep down… He wanted to believe that maybe his Father was seeking to build a bridge that he hated in life, volatile towards Echo. It would make Noa feel better about his choice to let you stay, knowing one of the last things his Father warned him about was the danger that always followed Echo footsteps.

“Really depends…” You finally spoke up, taking the Chimpanzee right out of the trance that he had sought for in the recent weeks, riddled with guilt that he was making a choice that was not beneficial or fruitful in anyway, even though you were giving him information about the world that he knew he’d never experience otherwise. Ignorance is bliss, and Noa beat himself up occasionally thinking about how ignorantly blissful he had once been before his village was destroyed, before he met an Echo, before he fought Proximus and came out a Leader without any idea of how to lead. He sighed deeply, your eyes following the intense motion of his shoulders rising and then falling more aggressively. Noa figured there was more to your statement, you left it open for a reason.

“Death could mean a lot of things.” Turning his head towards you, eye contact was flurried as it so often was. Falling in line with the idea of trust yet taking complete hold. Noa brought his envy colored eyes back forward on a tree in front of him once again, though you were admittedly searching to look into his irises for a basis of how he wanted you to answer. “We Humans,” Sighing gently, you lifted your body and trailed in closer to him, finally dropping to your knees beside him. Noa did not react to that, but watched with acute focus as you drew your hand into the water and began mimicking his own hand movements. To the right, to the left. Against the current, with the current.

“We have a saying. That Death brings new beginnings. It’s probably a really outdated saying, but…” Shrugging your shoulders, Noa felt a shuddering in your heart beat as he gazed upon your neck, watching your jugular strain to find comprehension and words. Tears were being forced back, your lips being wetted by your tongue as you stood promptly, leaving him wondering if he had just seen a glimmer of vulnerability within you. How odd not to seek comfort when obviously pained, Noa drew his teeth together at your finishing phrase.

“I’d like to believe that’s true.”

Noa did too.

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Three Months, he told Eagle Sun with his eyes, letting his hand press against the undercarriage of the bird. You had been gone for three months and no matter how many times he pressured himself and challenged his mind to not think about you, Noa found it impossible. Even the most simple and ever-day living tasks where flooded with recollections. He hated the feeling that it left him. Hollow and swallowed out, like the walnuts that rested in twine against his cross-body bag.

Desolate and barely even comprehensible. His days were torn into politics, many meetings with the Elders as Noa accepted he needed to learn about their customs and engrain himself in them for his fellow Apes, for the future. He even went as far as to invite Soona with him on some days, just for the company. Never Anaya, he was not into politics and thought most of the Elders got crazier with age. Days were drawn to a close when he’d return to the birds, placing Eagle Sun happily upon his perch and caressing his small head in the fitted garment to help him sleep for the night.

This particular evening was mild, the breeze shooting in through the open room relaxing enough and it bristled against his fur delectably as he plucked a few blue feathers from Sun. Small beady eyes stared at him intently as he did it, Noa making a snide comment towards his feathery companion, “I do not know why you look at me like this,” His voice was soft but held animosity around the corners, especially on certain and inflicted words, “I set her free. You should be… Happy… For Clan, no Echo to bother us anymore. Apes… Can prosper without being… torn down.”

Like he was expecting an answer, he paused and brought his head down to inspect Sun’s wing a bit more closely. There was something in his wing, something slick. Must have gotten too close to something that was sticky and Noa found it amazing that his bird was even able to make the venture home as he tilted his broad body and grasped a cloth to---

That smell.

Noa’s brow ridge secluded itself from the rest of his expression as it was drawn inwards, his entire head dropping to get a bit closer to what was on Sun’s wings to inspect further. Eyes pressed together tightly as he tried to get his vision to focus in the dim lighting that was provided by the dying fire in the middle of the enclosure, often left to die on its own once Noa wrapped his duties off and trailed towards the communal nest for rest. Never enough rest, but just enough to get him through his days agonizingly.

If he was tired, it did not leave much energy to think about Echo, he was throwing chips into a game he had never played before as he lightly placed his fingers along the under wing span of Sun who let him do what he needed, either intentionally or out of submission, Noa was unsure but moved forward. From the breast of the bird and then outwards, tickling the tips of his feathers delicately. The smell itself was familiar in nature, something Noa was able to place only once or twice since the agreement was made and then faltered and you left him alone. Bringing his body into a straight position, Noa’s hand rose with his actions and he was able to see the gleam on the tips of his fingers. Green eyes were dilated, mouth falling ajar.

Red.

Not as red as freshly spilled blood and it was cold, but there was no denying. Noa was slow to rise, looking at Eagle Sun who innocently pushed his head to the side inquiring what his Master was now going to do with the information given. Noa cursed inside of his head the only way he knew how. Scolding the bird, it was the bird's fault he did not tell Noa! Then, rationally hit him once he realized that the bird could not speak and thus… Gave Noa context clues.

“Where is she?” He asked, Sun flapping his wings ardently once, twice, Noa felt the breeze of his wings against his face, “Hurt?” Eagle Sun flapped again, giving a small squawk of confirmation.

Noa was fast - he needed to get a horse prepared, knowing that he had given you his own. Anaya’s would work, it was faster than Soona’s from the aspect that Anaya really pushed his to be the fastest of the bunch as to lead them when they were out together as a trio. Raising his hand, blood smeared into the fur of his shoulder as he beckoned Eagle Sun with a pat, the bird all too eager to fly the short distance and land himself there, talons grasping Noa tightly but not so much so that he was bleeding but he wished that were the case as to spare him the ideas, the visuals of you, frail and weak in the wilderness, your blood sept around your frame and leaving the most beautiful but most heart-shattering visual of your body imprinted in the mud.

“Need to find… her.” Noa told Sun in rushed silence. “Do not… Wake Anaya… Soona… Do not know I sent her away,” He gasped, turning on his feet and shuffling to grasp a speared staff, a dagger of sorts that was slid into his front waist sitting sack. “Would… be… unforgiving of Noa… If she is dead.”

Saying it felt awful, leaving an iron-like taste in his mouth that began to dwindle with the scent of your blood hitting the back of his throat. Guilt could reach up and consume him, Noa knew that. He could stop his movements now and decide that… You were dead and going out to find you would garner him nothing other than momentous pain and agony for years to come.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he slammed one of his fists against his thigh and grunted at the dulled vibration that brought to his muscles. Dead or alive, Noa needed to find you. He needed it. He was not afraid. He was, by the highest Eagle in the sky, the long forgotten Elders that were no longer spoken of but still remained in their culture through teachings, the Master of the Birds, and he feared nothing, not even fear itself.

Eagle Sun seemed to understand the concepting of stealth as he was quiet upon his Master’s shoulders as Noa drew down the spiraling walkway. Quickened pace, but light on his feet for his weight, Noa dropped immediately to all fours the moment he hit dirt and pushed his body as quickly as it would take him. You were dead, he convinced himself of that, because if you were alive and he found you then at least he could garner some satisfaction. There was none in death, he realized, no satisfaction if he found you not breathing and if he convinced himself that it was that way from the beginning, he didn't need to rack himself with guilt that he was unable to get to you in time.

Time… Noa snapped bitterly at himself, if he had just given it more time, you’d still be here… With him… Such a foolish thing to do, sending you off on your own. Noa was too proud to admit it for the three months he spent dwelling about it and he was in the deeper throes of self-agonizing hatred that he realized it now, too late. He no longer wanted to spend night after night alone in the Eagle Enclosure, never wanting to admit to even his own Mother that he was plagued with guilt from the loss of his Father and then the loss of you. Noa came to a skidded stop upon arrival at the horse paddock, raising a hand for Eagle Sun to soar into the sky as he grasped Anaya’s horse by the reins and pulled him gently out of his slumber and into the dimly lit stable.

Good, Noa thought to himself in the scramble, unable to contain the shake of his fists and the twitching that was ravaging his face, Anaya forgot to take the saddle off just like Noa anticipated. Lazy Ape to the rescue, he thanked his friend's personality for that one and trailed outwards, horse in tow.

There was a distant neigh coming from the East.

Noa looked up upon that, thinking for a split second that it had been Anaya’s horse protesting being woken up in the middle of the night. Or… Impossible, Noa scolded his wishful thinking, heart racing inside of his chest as he grasped the saddle with one arm, and with one intended swoop of his big frame, he got himself perched upon the animal. Sliding his spear into a purposefully built sheath on the side of the horse, he grasped the reins tightly and prepared to depart at mind-numbing quickness but was torn away from another neigh, this one a bit closer.

The call was recognizable now. His horse. Frantic, feet beating into the ground and brought shards of Earth up upon impact, harder than Noa’s heart was beating against his ribs which was a feverish pace and left his organs beckoning for a break. No, Noa said. He was going to push himself to the very brink of death if he had to, just to make up for a biased choice that he should have never made out of not understanding the actual implications of the last conversation you had together. Pained, he knew how it felt to run against the hard ground, he suddenly felt empathy for his horse, how afraid she was. Noa tried to keep himself calm but to no avail. He was afraid. He was the Master of the Birds and he was afraid.

Squinting his eyes towards the sound now, he shuffled Anaya’s horse just a bit to get them to calm down as his own came barreling through the trees and into the field adjacent to where Noa was. Instinctively, Noa was fast to dismount Anaya’s animal and raced towards his own, struggling to get the reins in his hands. Eagle Sun screeched in the air.

The smell of your blood was hitting every one of his senses now like you were bleeding out right in front of him, his glance spotting the nature of your items still locked in the carriers near the rear of the horse. Given the framed light of the fire stakes around the village and the dimness that he got from the very stars above, Noa was able to see a fresh hand-print of blood atop the brown stallion, right at the cusp of where you needed to grip to get on.

He drifted towards the saddle itself. Blood upon the notch in the front that was also the pressure point you grasped on to. This was smeared, like you had tried to get on but were dragged off before you could get situated. Swallowing hard, he couldn’t put any logic to it other than you had tried to mount her, tried to get away from whatever attack was placed on you and were unable. Realization hit him harder than intended, Noa went flurrying. You couldn’t even get mounted on the horse! You were so weak and injured you couldn’t find it in yourself to get on top so she could bring you back to the Clan. Back to Home. Back to… Him.

Finally, after an intricate dance and having to calm his horse down with words of recognition that they had no means to be afraid any longer, Noa grasped their muzzle in with a tight hold and brought his other hand to the reins. Ceremoniously, his forehead touched the horses before crackling took hold on his ears and petted the side of their head to get them to calm down. Ho stupid Noa was to let you go… How stupid… Immature now… That he… Let you die… A straggled sound left his throat, incredibly guttural in nature and he roared, not a care in the world anymore if he woke up the entire village, the entire valley, the entire Earth.

He did this to himself.

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“Do you know what love is?”

Noa’s intense focus on his hands, tightly balling together a piece of twine as he needed to fix Eagle Sun’s mask, was drawn towards you at the draw of your words as you had been lingering near him in the utmost silence, watching as he finnicked around thinned twine with his thicker fingers. Given --- In the three months that you had now been with the Clan, he did not find you much of a talker but he still held on hope that you would eventually warm up to him and finally feel comfortable to say something outside of the realm of the conversations that he always sparked.

This--- Noa tilted his head minutely, looking at the curve of your lips as you formed the questions, freshly imprinted in his mind as he innately thought that Echo lips were intensely interesting, able to tell many emotions from just that part of the body before he was drawn back into the question, this was new, Noa noted with piqued interested and a small bit of untangled pride hit his abdomen uncomfortably making him shift in his seated position. Noa pressed his lips together into a rather flat line as he contemplated your inquiry.

“Describe to me.”

It was your turn to find his words encapsulating in every sense of the word. You knew how he talked to Soona and Anaya - Always flirtatious it seemed, brimmed with happiness, jokes and laughter. This was different, the direction of his phrasing that he used with you. Attentive to your emotions, he knew when to use certain inflictions, when to joke and when to soothe if needed. He…

Drawing your bottom lip inwards, Noa watched it for a second and let a small huff leave his nose, he was intuitive. Incredibly so that you felt a small swell of indescribable pressure lingering in your lower navel, right below your belly button as you wanted him to look at you again. He was only intuitive out of need, not want and you needed to convince yourself of that as your stares at each other were becoming more prolonged, you began yearning on the days with Anaya and Soona who had taken to you and began teaching you how to sign that Noa would help you instead.

Shifting in your seat, you looked off in the distance, trying to find a fixed point where your mind was able to wash itself of the idea that you might start caring for him if he showed even the slightest interest in you. This, after all, you calmed yourself down and drew in deep breaths, was an agreement made to benefit you both. No emotional ties, in fact, Noa often reminded you that you were indeed free to go but you stayed. The reason was not clear, but you found yourself eager in the morning to him to draw you away.

Your fingers flicked in your lap as you heard Noa growl something to himself along the lines of ‘I cannot get this to stay knotted’ and you watched another fruitless attempt as he started over again, drawing your attention his his mouth when he placed the twine onto his tongue and then pressed his fingers against it to get it to flatten and not fray around the edge. “I---” You stumbled over yourself, suddenly unprepared for the retort that you had gotten. He had to have known what it was… Right? There was love within the Apes. He obviously loved Soona and Anaya, great friends, his Mother, even to an extent, the Elders that he sparsely talked about, and even less known to you was his actual relationship with his Father. “I don’t really know how…”

“Then why ask?” Noa almost sounded amused, his muzzle protruding out a bit in focus as he brought the twine close to his face and bent it into a small circle. Almost… Almost… Growling again, he placed the item down on the bench in front of him and took a deep breath in.

“I guess its like a bond.” You explained in layman terms. You knew he’d understand, letting your gaze fall on the Eagle that was always watching Noa with the power of a thousand Suns. Maybe, you giggled in your mind and nodded slightly, that’s where his name came from. “Mutual… Respect.” It was your turn to choose your words carefully as you were unsure of which he knew of and which you were going to need to explain, putting a pin in the whole beginning question and going down a deeper rabbit hole.

“Trust. Affection,” Pausing at that one, you expected Noa to respond with another ‘what is that’ but he didn't, letting his green eyes flush against the twine in front of him as he was very obviously processing what you were saying. “It’s… A feeling. Like, you can’t live without something, like… Thinking about the thing makes you feel…” You touched your chest, right where your heart sat and Noa found that interesting.

He narrowed his eyes on it as you pattered your fingertip against your heart beat and for a moment of drawn out fantasies, he imagined himself placing his hand there before the shock of his thoughts came barreling down on him when he took note of how your skin seemed to glow in the sun peeking in through the roofing made of thin pieces of woods tied together. Echo skin, he said, always so fragile in itself. Squishy, it appeared. Noa looked away again, puffing his cheeks out. Nothing in him told him to keep looking but he wanted to just in the morbid nature that maybe he could feel your skin with his eyes.

“It makes you feel alive.” Noa’s face contorted into perplexity. He… Was alive. Right then and there as blood pounded through his body from his heart. All the way down to his toes and to the very tips of his finger. Echo phrasing, he scolded you inside of his mind, never made sense. Stupid allegories.

“Alive?”

“Like you’re an Eagle soaring through the toughest storm to get home to your family.”

Noa nodded, still not quite understanding but willing to accept that that’s what love was to you.

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Green eyes dilated into black upon the sight of flames erupting from the woods. Not the actual trees themselves, but… From the gait and bounce, it was someone on horseback. A group on horseback. Four, Noa was able to detect as they came to the cusp of the woods and made themselves known. Echo.

Noa’s stomach hurdled like he was going to get sick, flashing back to the night that he was too terrified to face his own Death when Sylva’s… Proximus’ hand came down on his village and destroyed them, ripping the very foundations of the clan and customs into shreds, only now a year later have they finally learned to prosper and to be unafraid of the nights that surrounded tem. Noa was unable to face it then, unable to get there quick enough to warn. His hands balled into a fist as Anaya came on his right side, followed moments later by Soona who was asking what happened - Having heard the shattering roar Noa released less than a minute ago.

Soona’s question wasn’t worth an answer as her eyes trailed where Noa was watching, the overpowering scent of blood mixed with sadistic means came to flourish against all their noses, a powerful waft from the Echo that had just arrived. Without hesitation, hackles arose along their body, fur bristling to the brim at the arrival. You--- Noa snarled, hunching his shoulders more aggressively as he released his horse. You brought Echo!

After all this time… You were still just a disgusting low… Human. Noa growled again, baring his fangs as he tore his gaze between the Echo in front of him. What was he expecting? A bed full of roses, you laying right in the middle of it? No! His mind yelled at him, scratching at the inside of his skull as aggression started to unfold. He was surely a dumb Ape, your words not his, to even comprehend that there was ever any good in you. His horse fled, going towards Anaya’s for comfort. The pair touched noses with each other, Noa saw it out of the corner of his eye but the affection made him all the more rigid with carnal and defensive strides. His breathing was hard, still through his nose and he sensed his friends next to him hunch onto all fours, ready to defend and attack when Noa gave the word. Soona thought for a second - she was able to go grasp her sling and a few rocks to inflict more damage, but she’d be okay using her teeth, hands and brute strength. Anaya was more than okay with the same premise as Soona, but did entertain the notion of grasping the spear from his horse that Noa had grabbed earlier.

“We brought your little pet home.”

Noa thought they were alluding to his horse, letting his eyes flicker to her for a moment before he was thrusted back into the Echo in front of them, their pace steady and slow as the horses trotted inwards towards the Clan. There was laughter from a female behind the male who was leading the pack as she twisted her body, contorting enough to light one of the huts on the outskirts, this one used for making threads and cloths, ablaze with the touch of the torch. Noa lurched at that, going only two feet forward as he barked at them, a bid to get them either to stop or to submit. Their choice. But, the option of not stopping was always an option and it appeared they were choosing that.

‘Two females, two males.’ Noa signed silently at Soona and Anaya who gave each other an understanding gaze. Always a benefit of knowing signs. You had the advantage of silent communications.

The male, stocky in build, Noa decided was going to be the first to take down. Take down the Leader, the rest are sure to follow and he knew that from experience. The man’s horse --- Noa would be able to take the feet down or he could lunge straight at the Echo atop the animal, the muscles in his thighs tightened in anticipation.

“Oh,” He laughed this time, watching the crackling flame of the hut that had been set on fire with acute and smiling eyes. Amused. Noa’s brow drew in on itself at the reaction, head tilting to the side. “You think I mean the horse.”

Fauxly, he slapped his forehead and with a raise of his hand, alerting the three Apes to adverse danger, the man snapped his fingers, the sound mixing with the reverb from the flames themselves “Almost forgot. Horses are your equals, I was talking about this delectable little fireball.”

You came into vision, being trailed by a female and a male on foot. 6 in total now, they had been obscured by the rest of the party. Feet sliding against the ground, arms dangling as that was the appendage you were being dragged along by. Noa was able to see the blood that was dancing behind you from both of your calves, mouth suddenly going dry at that. It was apparent from the bobbing of your head, forwards only, back and forth like you were looking at the ground and nodding, that you were unconscious.

“You know, I didn't think you Apes kept humans as pets? Did you teach her any good tricks?” The smile was arrogant and dripping with implications that Noa himself did not fully understand.

Noa looked for a sign that you were breathing anything--- He yearned just to see the shape of your shoulders rising and falling but as you were literally dragged out as a display, it was hard to garner your movements versus the rough handling you were brought forward with. “Hard to tell if this one is yours though, no collar or anything to bring it back to its owner.”

You were grasped by your hair and brought upwards to dangle, your toes barely scraping the ground, face finally coming to fruition for Noa to see and he… Wished he hadn’t. There were cuts along your chin and lips, swelling along your right eye and a pretty deep gash along the left of your cheek, from a weapon of sorts Noa had to figure it was not made by the usual tussling of fighting with hands. “ It’s a really pretty one, I hate to give it back, you know, with humanity dying and such…” Noa had no idea he had even stopped breathing upon seeing you, his breath falling out of his nose hard at the first exhalation he had at the last minute. There was crested blood along your hairline, presumably from a blunted weapon that caused you to black out, mixing grotesquely with mud and twigs from the ground below. You had fought, it was evident in the scratches he could see on your knuckles and some on the softer nature of your palms.

He had… done this… Noa drew in a bit more, a foot this time and tried to find your eyes but they were sealed shut from intense swelling. Subconsciously, upon feeling your hair getting tugged so hard, your lip did twitch giving a minor indication to him that you were alive. Noa saw nothing but red once he gauged your body and looked upwards towards the man, saliva licking inside of his mouth in preparation of sinking his canines into the Echo’s neck.

“We don’t really kill other humans, hope you understand why we didn't finish the job. She’s all yours.”

You were tossed forward, lifelessly sitting only a meter in front of Noa now. Nothing more than a heap of tangled and ripped clothing, your fingernails coated in mud from the desperation you felt trying to crawl away from the attack on your legs. He watched it, the way your body crunched onto the ground below with an absolutely stomach churning sound. His lips parted, he knew that Anaya and Soona were questioning Noa’s motives, it becoming more and more clear that he had let this happen and as a consequence, Echo were now here to take what they wanted.

‘Soona,’ Noa signed, looking over at her from his periphery. She tensed at the attention that was called to her as he got her full eyes on him with a click of his tongue. His signing was fastened and blurred, but it got the point across. ‘Grab my Echo.' Noa felt assured in that. His. ‘Take some place safe, then get Mother and help others to safety.’

Noa was prepared this time, his chest swelling as he looked over towards his other friend as Soona hunched onto all fours, cautious at first as she grasped hold of you, able with her enhanced strength to actually hike you up and trail somewhere. Anywhere. Noa watched with anticipation as you were taken by Soona, away into the woods somewhere in hopes that you would be alright. Just like you had said to him so long ago… Like an Eagle flying through the toughest storm… You were home, just not the way that Noa wanted.

‘Anaya, with Noa. Wait for command. Anaya go right.' Noa tilted his head and studied the man in front of him.

'I go right.'

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