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avatarrecom · 1 year

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Sorry that I hit you, I actually love you

Pairing: Poly!recoms x Avatar!reader

Word count: 6.5k

A/N: This is the longest I've ever written lol. This story is sort of a little gift to @whxre-bxby, because I absolutely love their writing and it inspired me to write this story. I also totally did not want to write an enemies to lovers because I wanted to use the tag #foes to bro's to hoes.

There's one reason you came to Pandora. Only one simple reason. To make the people responsible for your brother's death pay. All you have is his name, the name of the man who killed your brother by ordering his helicopter to be shot down. Miles Quaritch. You will break him and everyone he cares about. You don't know how, but you will. get. revenge.

Your brother, Timmy, may he rest in peace, was fourteen years older than you and raised you from the moment you took your first breath. Your parents were even more useless than water was useless to a dead plant. Day in and day out, they were more concerned with getting high than with the two children they forgot they had. When you were four, your brother managed to become your guardian. You moved into the shitty little apartment that was the only one he could afford. Your brother insisted that you get the only bedroom. “Little girls need their own room, Butterfly,” he said before turning the old sagging couch into something that would resemble a bed.

The next few years consisted of school for you, a nine to five job for your brother and evening classes on top of that. After six years, your brother had completed his mechanical engineering degree. Shortly afterwards he told you that he had been offered a military engineer and helicopter pilot position by the RDA. But, for this he would have to go to Pandora. He told you that if he did this he would go to Pandora, his salary would be sent to you and the RDA would get you a caregiver.

And so, when you were only ten years old, he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, and left for Pandora. He left you in the care of a wonderful old woman, Helen, who helped you follow your dream of becoming an Avatar Driver. But after less than half a year, you received news that your brother was dead. According to the RDA report, your brother betrayed his own race by helping his fellow pilot, Trudy, free prisoners and fight the RDA. You were devastated. Your only family was gone. The RDA tried to send you to an orphanage. But Helen refused to let you go. Finally, the RDA gave up and let you stay with her. You still followed your dream of becoming an Avatar driver.

Now, sixteen years after your brother's death, you have finally arrived on Pandora.

And oh man, was it a shock when you arrived and found out you were joining the squad of the man who killed your brother. You didn't expect it to be this easy. You were supposed to meet him and his squad in your Avatar body. By now you were used to being ten feet tall, having a tail and having better hearing, sight and smell.

After changing into cargo shorts and a sports bra, you make your way to the 'Recombinant' quarters. You will find your new squad in the gym, training. You immediately spot the person you are here for. Miles Quaritch. He lies on his back on a bench and pushes the heavy weights above him. A bald man stands by his head, hands ready to take over the weights if it gets too heavy. Your gaze shifts to the other blue bodies and everyone is focused on their exercises. You see a woman with corn braids and a headband curling a dumbbell while she talks to a woman with a mohawk who is doing push-ups. To your right, you see a man wearing a bandana sparring with a man covered in tattoos. In the corner of the room, three men are doing pull-ups on the bars hanging between the walls. And finally a man wearing sunglasses 'who the hell wears sunglasses indoors' is running on a treadmill.

No one notices you because of the loud music coming from the speakers, so you knock loudly on the door behind you. Several eyes shoot your way. You feel uncomfortable with all the attention on you. "And who might you be," purrs Quaritch with a nasty grin. “Y/N,” you answer, trying not to lose your temper. Nothing could have prepared you to come face to face with your brother's killer.

Quaritch's eyes widen in realization. "You're the new addition to the squad." You nod stiffly and clasp your hands behind your back. The bald man lets out a loud laugh. "Relax, beautiful, we don't bite." The woman with the dumbbell hits him on the head and says something about men and testosterone to the other woman, who laughs in response.

Quaritch walks towards you, his posture commanding respect and obedience. "Colonel Miles Quaritch," he holds out his hand, "Pleasure to have you." You force a bitter smile and shake his hand. “I wish I could say the same.” You see everyone looking at you in shock. You give them an icy look.

Quaritch's stupid grin only widens as he takes you in. "I see, you're one of those." “One of those what,” you snap. "It doesn't matter, we'll break that behavior out of you." He steps aside and you roll your eyes so he doesn't see it. “So Y/N, meet the squad,” He gestures to the others. "The bald one is my second, Corporal Lyle Wainfleet." Lyle and the two women look at you with an almost disgusted look. "The two ladies are Walker and Z-dog."

Quaritch gestured to the men sparring before your entrance, “That's Prager and Lopez.” Bandana looks at you suspiciously and the tattooed one looks at you with a feral grin that makes him look like one of those hyenas from the Lion King. “Brown, Ja and Fike are at the bars and that's Mansk,” Quaritch finishes. "Come on guys, meet our new victim."

Quaritch gestured to the men sparring before your entrance, “That's Prager and Lopez.” One looks suspiciously and the other looks at you with a feral grin that makes him look like one of those hyenas from the Lion King. “Brown, Ja and Fike are at the bars and that's Mansk,” Quaritch finishes. "Come on guys, meet our new victim." With that he walks out of the gym. You stare hatefully at his retreating back. When he's out of sight and you turn your attention back to the rest of your squad, you see them staring at you with equal hatred.

“So,” Lyle begins, “what the hell is your problem.” “That ain't your damn business,” you reply. Lyle grins at his friends. “Women shouldn't curse,” says the tattooed man with a shit-eating grin. You roll your eyes, “Get fucked.” He blinks in surprise, but doesn't answer. You turn your back to the group and walk out of the gym.

The next few weeks were absolute hell for you. You were trained as a medic in addition to your Avatar training. You had absolutely no experience in hand to hand combat and weapons. It didn't help that your squad took pleasure in seeing you suffer. Quaritch forced you to do five hundred push-ups every morning, to run for at least an hour, and many other exercises that completely exhausted you. In the afternoon the squad would take you around and kick your ass in hand-to-hand combat. After a few days you were already covered in bruises. You already had a bruised ankle and you had muscle pain in muscles you didn't even know existed.

And of course the favorite passage of time outside of training was to make your life miserable. You lost count of how many times they 'accidentally' slammed you into the wall, how many times they 'accidentally' stepped on your tail and 'accidentally' stepped on your ankles, especially your bruised ankle. They threw the most uncreative insults at you. You simply ignored them and continued to perfect your revenge plan.

About three months after you met and three months of absolute hell, you walked to the cafeteria in your 'human body'. You were so deep in thought that you didn't realize you were bumping into someone. To be specific, a ten foot tall and blue, someone. “Oh shit, sorry,” you heard someone say as a blue hand held your arm so you could regain your balance. You look up and see that Brown was holding your arm. He tilts his head and looks at you confused. "Have we met yet? You look familiar, beautiful." Your other tormentors watch you with interest, you shiver as they sweep their gazes over your body, and you don't shiver in a good way, the way that makes you feel the heat in your core. "Wait, I know you, you're the girl of my dreams!"

You jerk your arm from his grip and scoff, “that's funny, because this feels like my nightmare.” Immediately the eyes of the blue creatures in front of you darken. “Wait, Y/N?!” Walker says in surprise. You roll your eyes and nod. Everyone's eyes widen in shock. Just as you're about to walk away, you hear Lyle, "Y/N, wait." Normally you would have just kept walking, but something in his voice catches your attention. You sigh and turn back to the Recoms, who are studying you in shock. “What,” you snap.

"Timmy was your brother," Z-dog says breathlessly. You detect a slight tremor in her voice, but pay it no mind as the rage takes over your body. “Don't say his name,” you snarl between clenched teeth. “Don't you dare ever say his name,” everything you're feeling right now is the most intense you've ever felt. Your anger is mixed with grief and sadness. You don't even realize that tears are streaming down your face. "He is dead!" you shout, unable to keep your pent-up emotions in check. "And it's all your fault!" "What's going on here," you hear an angry voice command.

In your anger you turn to the colonel, who stops slightly in his steps, thrown off by the angry tears on your face. You vaguely hear someone in the background saying that Timmy was your brother. "DON'T SAY HIS NAME!" you roar. “HE IS DEAD, HE WAS MY ONLY FAMILY, THE ONLY ONE WHO CARED ABOUT ME AND HE IS DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!” You break more and more with every word.

Before anyone can say anything else, you storm off. Luckily no one comes after you. After rushing into your room, you collapse against the wall, exhausted. You shouldn't have gone to the cafeteria in your human body. You should have stayed in your Avatar body, then they would never have realized who you really were. Shit, if you take revenge now, they'll immediately suspect you after your public emotional explosion in the hallway. You drop your head into your hands and sigh. Then you fall asleep on the floor, completely exhausted from the recent events.

When you wake up, you are determined to continue with your plan. It doesn't matter if they actually knew your brother personally, he was your brother and he's dead because of them.

You manage to avoid your squad for a few days. You skip the daily training and don't answer when one of them comes knocking on your door. That surprises you, you expected them to be happy to be rid of you temporarily. But then again, they probably have Quaritch's orders to convince you to act like nothing's wrong. They would probably be in trouble if the bigwigs found out that they were the ones who kept damaging your Avatar body.

After about a week you appeared back in the gym in your Avatar body. The Recoms look at you without the usual hatred in their eyes. “Y/N, how nice that you're joining us, not so nice that you're a week late,” Quaritch speaks and he too looks at you without the usual hatred. You roll your eyes, “Come on, who wants to go first,” you challenge, eager to let your energy out, preferably on something that could hurt the Recoms.

Brown steps forward. You wrap your hands and walk to the mat, Brown on your heels. When Quaritch gives the signal that you can start, you jump into action. You deliver several quick punches to Brown’s vulnerable spots. Normally he would have already blocked them and thrown you onto your back, pressing his weight on your throat with his knee. Normally he wouldn't remove his knee, even if, according to the rules, you tapped the mat three times because you couldn't breathe. Normally he would only remove his knee from your throat when you almost faint from the lack of oxygen.

But this time it's different. He lets you hit him, does the minimum to block you. This only makes you angry. "Come on, fight back!" you shout. He doesn't show that he heard you, he just keeps avoiding you and doesn't do anything to fight back. "Come on! Do something!" you shout again.

Your emotions completely overwhelm you, you don't understand anything anymore. At first they looked at you with hatred and did their best to make your life a living hell, which isn't that strange since you were a bitch. Then they find out who your brother was and suddenly they look at you with sadness and pity and they are reserved, as if they didn't want to torment you anymore. As if the fact that Timmy was your brother suddenly changed everything.

With every punch you get angrier and angrier. Suddenly you see red and you snap. You get so angry that you grab Brown by the base of his queue, pull him down and slam your knee into his face. You feel his nose break and you faintly hear Quaritch yelling in the background for you to stop. It's like you're underwater, everything is muffled and you can't stop. You hit harder and harder. Brown leans on his knees and tries to block you as much as possible while also trying to stop his bleeding nose.

You feel someone wrap their arms around your waist and pull you away from Brown. You continue to fight and struggle to get out of the grip on your waist. Ja is seen kneeling in front of Brown and taking off his t-shirt to gently press it against his nose, hoping to slow the bleeding. The person with his arms around your waist roughly throws you to the ground, you land wrongly on your newly healed ankle and fall to the ground. You hold your ankle with your jaw clenched.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?!” Quaritch sneers. Before you can answer he continues, his voice louder with each word. "Stop your pathetic crying and get out of my sight!" You rub your cheeks and find that they are damp, you didn't even realize you were crying. You carefully stand up, careful not to put too much weight on your probably bruised ankle again. You look at the others and see that they are looking at you with anger and sadness. Just before you walk out the door you hear Quaritch coldly say, "If you know what's good for you, you won't come back until I say so." With one last look at the bleeding Brown, you walk out the door.

You stumble back to the Avatar's quarters and you sink onto your Avatar's bed and close your eyes. When you open your eyes again, you are lying in the link bed. The moment the bed opens, you quickly get up and forget about your bruised ankle. For the second time today your ankle collapses. The scientists look at you, but do nothing to help you. You manage to pull yourself up and limp out of the lab. Every scientist you walk past looks at you with disgust.

The nerds refuse to help you. After yet another injury, they gave up and left you to your fate. "Good," you think bitterly, "I don't need those know-it-alls, I can take care of myself." But deep down you know that's not true, right now you need your brother more than you ever needed him after he passed away.

You manage to avoid the busy hallways, limping to your room. The moment the door closes behind you you start screaming. You blindly grab the first object you feel, your favorite mug, and throw it across the room against the wall. Then you throw the next object, the book you were reading. You almost destroy your entire room and you keep screaming until your throat is so raw that no sound comes out. You don't even realize how much time has passed.

You grab another object and want to throw it against the wall when you see what it is. A photo frame with a photo of you and your brother. God, you seemed so happy then, together in your own little world. You hug the picture frame close to your chest and sink along the wall to the floor, crying. All the grief you have built up in you over the past few years is finally coming out.

It's already dark outside when your door opens. You start telling whoever it is to fuck off, but no sound comes out of your throat. You're so tired and in so much pain that you don't have the energy to do anything about the unwanted person who comes into your room. All you can do is stare blankly into space as the tears continue to flow.

You faintly hear footsteps in your room and out of the corner of your eye you see a large blue figure crouching on the floor next to you. You feel yourself being pulled into someone's blue arms, but you don't have the energy to protest, you barely have the energy to move your eyes. The blue arms gently lay you down on your bed. Through your blurred eyes you vaguely recognize Yes. Past him you'll see Walker and Mansk trying to salvage some of your destroyed room. Then Lopez walks in, pausing in shock when he sees the state of your room. His eyes land on Ja and your exhausted form. He approaches the two of you carefully and hands Ja a white box with a red cross.

You vaguely realize that Ja is putting ice on your ankle, that he is using an alcohol wipe to clean the wounds that you didn't even realize you had. He grabs a pair of tweezers and starts removing the pieces of glass from your wounds. You feel so numb that you don't even feel the pain. The mattress moves and you see Prager sit on the edge of your bed.

He waits until Ja has cleaned and bandaged your hands before handing you a steaming mug. "It's chamomile tea with honey. It's soothing and will help with your sore throat." When you don't respond and just stare blankly at him, he puts the mug on the nightstand next to your bed.

You don't react yet until you see Ja with a syringe in his hands. You start to struggle and try to scream, but only a rasp comes from your throat. "Hey, hey, calm down." Ja holds his hands up. You curl up on your bed in the corner of your room, wide-eyed, shaking and ignoring the blood through the bandages. “Hey, read the name of the drug,” Ja says calmly and holds the bottle out to you. You relax slightly when you see that it is a sedative.

Yes, he brings the syringe with the drug to your arm and if you don't protest, he pushes the needle into your arm and allows the drug to flow into your system. Your eyes become heavy and you fall into a dreamless sleep.

When you wake up again it is still dark outside. You roll your head to the side and see part of your squad, or it's probably your old squad by now, sitting in various places on the floor in your room. A painful, rough growl erupts from your throat as you feel blades shooting through your skull with the movement of your head. Immediately seven heads shoot towards your weak form.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" you hear Ja ask softly. You try to answer, but your throat is so dry that no words come out. Prager offers you the still steaming cup of tea, you sit up a little and take it gratefully. The first sip immediately soothes your sore throat. You look at Ja and say a soft "Okay." Ja sighs in relief and runs a tired hand through his hair.

"What time is it?" you ask softly. Prager looks at his watch, "zero three hundred." ‘Did I sleep that short?’ you think to yourself 'I feel like I've been hibernating.' Prager sees your questioning look and informs you that your training session and outburst was the day before yesterday and that you slept for over twenty-four hours. In the meantime, Ja has taken care of all your injuries, both your bruised ankle, which was completely swollen and blue because you didn't treat it right away and put too much strain on it during your outburst, and all the wounds from broken glass. Apparently you sat with your thigh in a pile of glass, which is how you got a large wound on your leg.

Z-dog, Walker, Mansk, Fike and Lopez cleaned up your room as much as possible and they even had to scrub blood from the floor, walls and furniture. They threw away all the broken items and even replaced some broken items. On the small counter you see your favorite mug, the one that was the first thing you broke. Lopez says that he and Fike did their best to glue it together as best they could, but it's not how it once was.

Apparently Prager didn't help clean up and just sat by your bed. He only got up to make you a new cup of chamomile tea with honey every time the tea started to get lukewarm, so that when you woke up you could immediately drink the warm tea if you wanted. According to Walker, he made dozens of cups of tea.

There is an awkward silence. “We have something to tell you,” Prager begins. The others move closer until they sit in a semicircle around your bed. You look at them questioningly and suspiciously. “We knew your brother,” Fike mutters under his breath. Lopez jabs him hard in the side and tells him to shut up. You try to sit upright as much as possible. "What?" you rasp.

Walker reaches out to you, as if to reassure you, but her hand stops in mid-air. Finally, she places her hand next to you on the bed, palm up, as if offering for you to take her hand if you want, if you need it. "It's true, we knew him," she says softly, "we knew him one day..." she trails off a bit and looks at the others uncertainly. “We knew him on a very, very personal level,” Ja continued.

You look at everyone in confusion. The Recoms see your confused look, but don't know how to respond. "We loved him," Ja said uncertainly. Your eyes start to water again, but you wipe them away roughly, you've cried enough. “What do you mean, you guys loved him,” you demand. Yes sigh, "we met him when he arrived on Pandora, he joined our squad as an engineer and Marine." You feel a pressure in your chest and you realize that you have replaced your brother in the squad.

"It didn't take long for us all to fall in love with him," Prager explains further and the others nod in agreement, "Miles, Lyle and Brown too." "He chose to go with Jake Sully to warn the Na'vi." Your emotions rise higher and higher, not only yours, also those of the Recoms. "We didn't know he was in the helicopter with Trudy, we really didn't know, otherwise Miles would never have given the order to shoot down the helicopter." You risk a look at the blue aliens and see the grief and sadness in their eyes and realize that they really loved him.

"Can you please leave me alone for a moment?" you whisper softly. The Recoms look at each other uncertainly, but decide to leave you alone. Mansk and Walker will stand outside your door so that in case you have another emotional breakdown, they will hear and they can help you.

As soon as you are alone, you start to cry softly again. And instead of having an emotional breakdown, you curl up in a ball on the corner of your bed and cry quietly so no one can hear. You are still so exhausted by all the emotions that you soon fall asleep again.

When you wake up again, you see that it is now daytime again. You stand up, careful not to step on your bruised ankle, and you hop to the sink. In the mirror you see that your eyes are red and swollen from crying. You also have a large cut on from the bottom of your jaw to the side of your nose, right under your eye. You look like complete shit.

You struggle out of your clothes and stop when you see all the wounds on your naked body. You didn't realize it was that serious. You carefully put on clean clothes. As you carefully hop out the door, you see Mansk and Walker still standing outside the door. They ignore all the confused looks from those passing by and focus their attention on you. They look at you with concern and mild concern.

"The colonel asked if we would take you to the Recom quarters when you were awake," Mansk informs, his voice, as always, devoid of emotion. You nod doubtfully and expect him to tell you that he is sending you back to earth. Mansk and Walker walk quickly in front of you, not realizing that you can't keep up with their bruised ankle and their long legs. Walker quickly realizes that you are a long way behind them and lightly hits Mansk on the arm, signaling that you cannot walk fast. The female Recom walks back to you to offer her support if you need it, while Mansk waits patiently for you to catch up.

The two slowly guide you to their living quarters. When you finally stagger into their living room, you see the rest of the squad sitting tensely in various places around the room. Your gaze shifts to Brown, who is lying on the couch with his swollen nose in bandages. You immediately feel guilty, you shouldn't have taken out your anger and all your other pent-up emotions on him.

You hear someone clear their throat and look up at Quaritch, who is staring at you intensely. You had never been in such a tense situation in your human body around the Recoms before, they only make you feel smaller. Quaritch sighs tiredly and gestures for you to sit on the couch, after a struggle and help from Walker you finally sit on the couch.

Quaritch sits across from you, resting his elbows on his knees. "What they told you is true," he begins, "we really loved your brother and we miss him every day. If I…" he trails off. "If I had known he was in that helicopter, I would never have given the order," he looks genuinely remorseful. “Here,” Lyle says, holding out a piece of photo to you. The photo shows the Recoms, in their deceased human bodies, and in the center, with Lyle's lips on his left cheek, Brown's on his right, and Lopez with his hyena grin hanging over his head, is your brother. He has the widest and happiest smile you have ever seen on his face. You don't know why, but suddenly you're sure he loved them, you believe the Recoms. Your brother was always an excellent judge of character and if he loved them too, as you see in the photo, you believe he was happy with them.

You give the photo back to Lyle and he offers you another photo. Another photo of your brother, this time he is sitting in the pilot seat of a helicopter with a toothy, silly grin. You smile sadly at the photo and hand it back to Lyle. He shakes his head, "keep the photo, we have several copies."

“We should never have treated you this way,” Quaritch says firmly. "We didn't know Timmy was your brother and I know it's not an excuse, but I'm sure we would have been different if we had known." You laugh softly and see the confused, slightly offended look in their eyes. "I was a bitch to you and besides, I came here planning to kill you all as revenge for what you did to my brother." You take in the shocked looks, slightly enjoying it. "I don't think I'll do it again, Timmy wouldn't want to."

“You know,” Lyle begins, “Your brother told us all about you, he loved you so much and he was so proud of you.” You smile sadly. "I know." "He also said he always called you butterfly, why was that?" Walker asks. "Our parents always called me an ugly duckling, so my brother started calling me butterfly, because a caterpillar blossoms into a beautiful butterfly." It was always your most favorite nickname anyone had ever given you. “And as a kid I was always hyper and he said I was always fluttering around like a butterfly.”

You suddenly frown and turn your attention to Brown. "I'm sorry, I should never have lost my temper to the extent that I hurt you." Brown looks at you in surprise. "Seriously?" he asks angrily and you recoil. "We have tormented you for weeks, months and you apologize to me?!" he asks incredulously. "And besides, I deserved it, I think we all deserve a broken nose, probably worse."

"Absolutely not, I don't want to deal with nine broken noses plus my own, we will pay for our actions in another way." Protested Yes. Brown pouts, "but if my nose heals wrong, at least I'm not the only one with an ugly, crooked nose." You smile and feel yourself relax slightly.

The following hours and then even weeks consist of exchanging stories about Timmy. Sometimes you laugh, like your story about his baking attempt for your eighth birthday that resulted in a cake literally exploding. And sometimes you cry, like their story about how he curled up next to them at movie night, just like you always did with him.

In addition, every Recoms continues to apologize every day. Ja personally sees to it that you heal completely, while he also has to listen to Brown's whining about his nose.

You slowly warm up to the Recoms, seeing and appreciating their efforts to earn your forgiveness. But after a few weeks you also start to feel things that you don't know how to feel. Every time Ja gently holds your chin in his hand to tend to the cut on your face, you feel his touch long after he lets you go. Every time Walker deliberately walks next to you to offer you support when you need it, you can't stop blushing.

It feels wrong, falling for your dead brother's lovers. It feels wrong, but also so good. You have decided to ignore your feelings, you have convinced yourself that they will go away on their own. But you didn't know that the Recoms feel the same way. Not because you are part of your brother, but because you are simply a wonderful person.

About five months after your breakdown, you and the squad are on a mission in the Hallelujah Mountains when you are suddenly attacked by several Thanators. You scatter in different directions, hoping to get rid of the Thanators with minimal casualties. You run with Prager and Z-dog through the thick jungle, fleeing from the two Thanators who are chasing you. The three of you don't have much luck when you stumble upon atop a waterfall on the edge of a high cliff.

You look around in panic, looking for a way out as the Thanators get closer and closer. "We have to jump!" Z-dog shouts. "WHAT?!" you shout back. "JUMP!" she shouts again as she grabs your hand and pulls you off the cliff. You scream all the way down to the lake at the bottom of the waterfall. Fortunately, the Thanators do not follow.

When you finally manage to get to the beach at the edge of the lake, you see Prager lying on his back in the sand, chest heaving. “Prager, are you okay?” you ask worriedly, slipping into the role of medic. Prager gives a tired thumbs up, "Let's never do that again." You hear sputtering behind you and see Z-dog walking onto the beach, her mohawk hanging wet in her face with a pissed off expression.

The two of you plop down on the sand next to Prager and let your clothes dry in the sun. After a while you hear sounds in the jungle, sounds that are getting closer. Prager and Z-dog are immediately in a crouching position. Prager pushes you behind him as he and Z-dog point their guns in the direction the sounds are coming from. "You don't think the Thanators found us, do you?" you ask nervously.

Then the rest of the squad bursts onto the mini beach. Quaritch sighs in relief when he sees the three of you. “Thank god, I thought something had happened to you guys when you didn't come back,” he studies you carefully, “why are you guys so wet?” Z-dog explains what happened and the rest look at you in shock. Quaritch walks over to you and gently takes your chin in his hands. "Are you OK?" he asks worriedly. You nod reassuringly. Quaritch sighs in relief and rests his forehead against yours.

“Thank god, I was worried about you my love,” you look up abruptly when you hear the nickname. Quaritch himself seems shocked at what he called you. You see the rest of the Recoms with the same look, until Fike breaks the silence, "why are we surprised, we all already knew we fell for her?" Lopez sighs in annoyance, "Yes, but she didn't know that."

"You guys fell for me?" you ask in shock. Quaritch rubs his neck uncomfortably. “Yes, we know it's weird because of your brother, but we can't help it.” "And the biology of the Na'vi is different, we can't control ourselves if we find someone attractive." Ja explains.

In addition, every Recoms continues to apologize every day. Ja personally sees to it that you heal completely, while he also has to listen to Brown's whining about his nose.

About five months after your collapse, you and the squad are on a mission in the Hallelujah Mountains when you are suddenly attacked by several Thanators. You scatter in different directions, hoping to get rid of the Thanators with minimal casualties. You run with Prager and Z-dog through the thick jungle, fleeing from the two Thanators who are chasing you. The three of you don't have much luck when you stumble upon atop a waterfall on the edge of a high cliff.

You look around in panic, looking for a way out as the Thanators get closer and closer. "We have to jump!" Z-dog shouts. "WHAT?!" you shout back. "TO JUMP!" she shouts again as she grabs your hand and pulls you off the cliff. You scream all the way down to the lake at the bottom of the waterfall. Fortunately, the Thanators do not follow.

When you finally manage to get to the beach at the edge of the lake, you see Prager lying on his back in the sand, chest heaving. “Prager, are you okay?” you ask worriedly, slipping into the role of medic. Prager gives a thumbs up, "Let's never do that again." You hear sputtering behind you and see Z-dog walking onto the beach, her mohawk hanging wet in her face with a pissed off expression.

Their eyes slide over your body with interest as they see how your body reacts to their confession. And this time, when you feel yourself shivering, you also feel the heat pooling in your core.

93 notes · View notes

thepixarau · 9 months

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Woody: we’re the Pixars. We have absolutely no privacy whatsoever.

Héctor: we’re the Pixars. We have too many dishes and not enough cabinet space.

Remy: we’re the Pixars. We don’t get recognized in public nearly as much as you’d think.

McQueen: we’re the Pixars. We all failed our driver tests the first time.

Jessie: we’re the Pixars. We should not be allowed to do taxes.

Imelda: we’re the Pixars. We all take too long in the bathroom every morning.

Helen: we’re the Pixars. None of us know how to cook without burning the food.

Marlin: we’re the Pixars. Our washing machine’s been broken for a week.

Joy: we’re the Pixars. We’re like one big happy family..the kind that gets together every Christmas except no one ever leaves!

Merida: we’re the Pixars. We have zero fashion sense.

Flik: we’re the Pixars. We each have our own unassigned seat at the table! And if anyone takes it, it’s the end of the world.

Ember: we’re the Pixars. We break things way too easily.

Sulley: we’re the Pixars. We have a dozen cars parked in the driveway.

Sadness: we’re the Pixars. We will fight for literally no reason.

Dory: we’re the Pixars. We love getting letters from fans in the mail!

Ian: we’re the Pixars. We look like adults but technically speaking most of us would only be like 10 years old if we were normal people.

Bob: we’re the Pixars. Our walls are not soundproof.

Joe: we’re the Pixars. We own every single piece of merchandise from every one of our movies ever made.

Atta: we’re the Pixars. When one of us gets sick, it turns into a plague and the rest of us inevitably get sick as well.

Barley: we’re the Pixars. Instead of going to the gym we play Wii Sports.

Wade: we’re the Pixars. We like to criticize each other’s taste in music, for some reason.

Mater: we’re the Pixars. When one of us takes a dump we have to warn everybody not to use the bathroom for twenty minutes.

22: we’re the Pixars. Our game nights are a battle to the death!

Mike: ..we’re the Pixars. Everyone here is exaggerating. Our life is actually very normal.

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itspbandjellytime · 4 months

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And All The Girls Dream That They'd be Your Partner (1/?)

Plot: What happens when Yelena Belova and Kate Bishop accidentally bumped into each other on the way to their separate jobs at the end of November?

Ships: Yelena Belova/Kate Bishop

Words: 1.7k words

Notes: Hi everyone I am sorry for not posting on both Tumblr and Wattpad, I have been so burnt out for the past few weeks and my motivation has hit an all time low. So as a treat, here's a Bishova fic. I hope you guys enjoy this fanfic <3

New York City, Somewhere during the last week of November.

Yelena wakes up to the sound of her alarm going off for the second or third time in a row, she has lost count. She sits up straight and groans in annoyance as she stretches her limbs to the point that you can hear her joints pop, Yelena grabs her phone and once her vision clears she notices that it’s already a quarter to ten. She’s late, Yelena is late for work.

“Cука!” Yelena exclaimed as she realises that she’s late for work, Yelena works for Bon Appetite as a Chef and Editor. Yelena loves cooking and it’s her love language, whenever someone tells her that they’re gonna come over for lunch or dinner. Yelena would rush to the grocery store to buy the things she needs so she can make either a meal or some pastries while her friends are over.

Yelena quickly grabbed her stuff and ran out of her apartment, seconds later she rushes back inside cause she forgot something, her set of kitchen knives. “Damn it, my knives!” She exclaimed as she grabbed her set of kitchen knives that she uses and ran back outside of her apartment.

As she left the building, she started brisk walking, muttering things in Russian looking around as the pace of her walking quickens and quickens as if she’s like Sonic the hedgehog.

Enter Kate Bishop, a personal trainer at a gym in New York. She is also late for work, but she’s riding a bike on her way to the gym. Her heart starts pumping like crazy as she quickly pedals her bike.

“HEY!”

“WATCH WHERE YOU’RE GOING!!”

“The Mayor of New York should ban you from riding bikes!”

Those were the comments she was getting from every New Yorker she got today, and all Kate did was look behind them and yell “Sorry!” then go on. While biking she was distracted by a piece of gum that stuck to the wheel of her bike and tried to take it off, when all of a sudden she looks up and collides with Yelena. Kate and her bike fall on top of Yelena, they both groan in pain.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” Kate apologises as she gets up from her bike “Watch where you’re going, Jesus.” Yelena barks back, brushing the dirt off her shoulders and stretching.

“Excuse me, you watch where you’re going. You were literally running like a damn cheetah.” Kate answers back, Yelena lets out an offended gasp at Kate’s response. “I am sorry, I wasn’t the one who is riding her bike like I am in the Tour de France or something. Watch your tone!” Yelena grumbles, grabbing her bag from Kate and brisk walking away from her cause she doesn’t want to be late for whatever she has going on at work. Kate just stood there and watched Yelena walk away from her sight which made her zone out, she then realises she has to go to work as well “Shit.” Kate mumbled to herself not being time sensitive, she got on her bike and started to bike to the gym she works in.

Meanwhile at the Bon Appetit headquarters, Yelena makes her way to the meeting room dodging people in her way. Yelena opens the door and sees that the meeting has started “Sorry, I was late. New York was very… Let’s say… crowded.” Yelena says, sitting next to Helen. Quentin Quire, who is the CEO of Bon Appetit just side eyes Yelena’s excuse for being late “Yeah… Just don’t do that again, okay Belova? I don’t want us to be rotting in a meeting room that’s colder than Antarctica waiting for people like you, Moving on! It’s the last week of November which means next week is December, and you know what holiday falls on december? Christmas! I know there are people in this room who don’t celebrate Christmas, but still… Christmas.” Quentin says to the group, he turns around and starts to write something on the whiteboard.

The sound of the whiteboard marker making contact with the whiteboard lowkey starts to bother and annoy Yelena, not to mention the freshly refilled ink is stenching up the room “Eugh.” Yelena quietly gags. “OKAY! I need plans, ideas for videos, the website, anything fire when ready!” Quentin says, snapping his fingers to grab people’s attention. “Belova, you.” Quentin points at Yelena who is jotting down ideas in her notebook, Yelena looks up and looks around the room and points at herself.

“Me?” She asks, Yelena clears her throat and looks down at the notes “How about we uh… Make a highlight of different dishes and pastries of each holiday tradition on the website? And for the youtube channel, we do videos related to those different dishes and pastries?” Yelena suggested, tapping her pen on the blank page of the notebook she has. Yelena’s suggestion made the room quiet, the silence has never been this loud. Quentin just looks at her and nods in agreement “Okay, does anyone have thoughts on Yelena’s suggestion?” Quentin asks the people in the room, no one is saying a word at this point.

“No one? Okay, if no one has any ideas left we’re sticking to Yelena’s idea. You are also one of the head chefs so try making some dishes and give it to the head writer and such, now will you excuse me I need to buy tickets for Dazzler’s Eons Tour, you guys should listen to her new album The Suffering Bards Ministry.” Quentin says with a shit eating grin, calling an end to this meeting.

After the meeting, Yelena along with Helen, Bucky, and his boyfriend Sam decided to go out for coffee at a coffee shop near the building. “Quick question, why were you late earlier?” Bucky asks Yelena, grabbing a bite of his Croissant. Yelena rolls her eyes, taking a sip of her coffee. “I overslept through my alarm and then Some girl who thinks she’s Lance Armstrong during Tour de France ran me over with her bike.” Yelena says furrowing her brows, Bucky and Sam look at each other and back at Yelena “Yikes, good thing you didn’t sustain any injuries.” Sam says.

“Yeah my butt just hurts, she fell on top of me.” Yelena mentions.

“Can I just say something?” Helen says, grabbing the attention of Yelena, Bucky, and Sam. “What?” Bucky asks, tilting his head.

“I liked it better when Scott was the CEO of this company.” Helen mentions taking a sip of her coffee, the three agreed to what Helen said “Totally, I am sick and tired of Quentin’s sorry ass being so righteous.” Sam comments, “I get that he’s trying to be a cool and hip CEO for the younger generations but he is failing at that aspect.” Bucky mentions looking around his surroundings “What about you, Lena?”

Yelena nods in agreement “No, I totally agree with everything you’re saying guys. Scott was a better boss and CEO, I’d rather have a cringey guy run the company than some pink mohawk hair dude with a superiority complex.” Yelena says, her phone lights up and it’s an Email from Quentin which made her groan in annoyance “Are you joking me right now? He wants the recipes sent to him within the week!” Yelena complains as she stands up “Now will you excuse me, I have to buy the ingredients I need for the dishes and stuff.” Yelena says, putting her phone back in her bag and leaving the others.

Hours have passed, Kate finally heads home to her apartment where Lucky has been waiting for her “Hey buddy!” Kate crouches down to pet Lucky and scratches his head “I know I missed you too!” Kate giggles and stands up as she walks around her apartment. Kate slumps on the couch letting out a sigh as she looks at her calendar realising it’s the last week of november “Can you believe it? It’s the last week of november and then next week it’s december then christmas is right around the corner.” Kate says to herself as she frowns, Kate is celebrating her first christmas after breaking up with some guy and she doesn’t have plans on visiting her parents this christmas as well. Kate could celebrate Christmas with The Bartons but Clint told Kate beforehand that they’re celebrating the holidays in Florida.

Kate looks down and sees Lucky infront of her carrying his bowl, which made her smile seeing the dog hold it is cute in her eyes “Looks like we’re spending Christmas together, huh buddy?” Kate says as she stands up from the couch and grabs dog food from the counter for Lucky to have. Kate checks the cabinet and notices she has ran out of food, she only has one pack of ramen left. “Looks like I need to go to the grocery again.” Kate mutters to herself as she cooks the last pack of ramen, once that’s done she heads to the living room and spends her time watching the news all bundled up with Lucky.

Yelena on the other hand, is in her apartment busy with making recipes for Bon Appetit, her kitchen is a mess and so far she has done one out of the ten dishes and pastries she jotted down. “Damn it.” Yelena sighs, wiping the sweat off her forehead as she looks at her flour covered surface, her kitchen knives are all over the place, and the pots and pans piling up the sink from yesterday as well. “I am calling this a day, I will just message Quentin that I made one dish that I haven't tasted yet…” Yelena says to herself, grabbing a clean spoon from the drawer, she tasted the dish she made tonight which is a quiche and shuddered “...That's… Eugh… Doesn't taste good.” Yelena says, throwing the food down the trash.

Yelena starts to clean her workspace up, wash the dishes and place them in the right places. Yelena started to freshen up and took a shower as well, after that she sent the Email to Quentin and headed to bed for another day at work.

#kate bishop #yelena belova #kate bishop fanfic #yelena belova fanfic #yelena x kate #bishova #bishova fanfic #hailee steinfeld fanfic #florence pugh fanfic #hailee steinfeld #florence pugh #mcu #marvel

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smolvenger · 2 years

Text

The Cure for Virginity

Robert Laing x fem! Reader Oneshot

Summary: Charlotte thinks you have been a virgin for too long. You should take advantage of a certain fellow tenant at the High-Rise, she says. The best amenity in the building- Doctor Robert Laing.

Word Count: 8K

Warnings: 18+, SMUT Y'ALL (First Time, p in v sex, vaginal fingering, Doctor kink, Virginity kink, dirty talk), Cursing, Mentions of drinking, and loss, Richard Wilder being a prick. But some moments of fluff and romance.

A/N: My first time (heh) ever writing for High-Rise! I hope you guys like it! Comments, Reblogs, Private Messages, and asks about my work are always appreciated!!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @villainousshakespeare(I hope y'all don't mind me tagging away)

"You should be adding on the vows of poverty and obedience!"

“I’m not a nun, Charlotte!” you shot back.

“At this point, you might be!”

You huffed as you kicked your feet in the water of the pool. It was packed with people that afternoon. It was one of the new joys of the place. Even the janitors glided by to clean the floors with mops on their shoes as if they were skates, smiling.

You were getting to know the residents one by one. So far, you had befriended some of the women. Like sweet, quiet Helen with her soft brown hair and a baby bump that was overdue. Helen sat on a chair. She read a magazine as her kids played Marco Polo in the pool. And Charlotte- tall, slender, with dark hair and always a laugh in her smile. But now, the laugh was at you as she waded through the waters.

“Please shut up, we’re in a public space! There are kids everywhere! Can we discuss the sale on baked goods they have in the grocery store here instead?” you begged.

“They might as well learn! Gave Toby the Talk when he was five!” Charlotte shot back.

“Uh-Uhm- anyone watch any good shows on the television lately?” you then changed desperately.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. She shook the water from her ears, her beautiful black hair covered by a white swimming cap. She went up to the pool’s edge and folded her arms over it, resting her chin on them.

“This place has everything for you, Y/N- A grocery store, a spa, a school, a gym, and even a sex life if you want…” she continued.

You splashed the water on her face, and she laughed as she held her arms up in defense.

“But the thing is…I know someone for you. Someone more than able to take care of it…” Charlotte began.

“I’m pretty sure any average penis can do the job! And why do you care so much? It’s a personal choice about my body- none of your beeswax!” you retorted.

She raised one of her eyebrows as she swam to you.

“Not even oral?” she asked.

She would not be silenced by a refusal. You leaned in.

“No!” you whispered.

She pulled herself to the edge. Water splashed as she emerged to sit on the edge next to you.

“Y/N, I have a tip for you- two words!” she said.

She held up a fist and uncurled two fingers with the first and last names.

“Robert Laing.”

“Oh my god, you’re setting me up?” you sighed.

She shrugged.

“Why not? His tongue reached places I never thought it could!” she recalled.

Your jaw dropped.

“Are you seriously setting me up with your boyfriend?!” you cried, leaning forward.

“No! He’s not…” she answered.

“So, he’s your ex…you’re setting me up with your ex!?” you questioned.

“It was a fling- long over now. We’ve moved on. But we’re on good terms! All the women love him for a reason- he’s incredible! You’re going to lose it once, Sister Y/N, it might as well be someone who knows how to do the job. Listen to me-“

She pointed up to the above floors.

“Men have the brothel. Women have Laing.”

She flipped her legs up and walked over to the chairs.

“What do you think, Helen?!” she prodded.

You looked over to see Helen as she reclined on the pool chair. She tipped her lovely face from her magazine.

“Of Robert Laing?” she asked.

“Yeah-in bed!” Charlotte asked.

“Incredible! Nothing like it!!” Helen agreed.

Are you kidding me? Oh god- this place has a gigolo! you thought.

You forced your jaw to shut. High-Rise life wasn’t like normal life. It was a culture shock for you. Here, any proper rules about what was good or bad were out the window. People lived as they wanted and did what they wanted. There was no consequence. Each night, in the middle of the Twentieth floor, you could hear giggles and laughter. You passed people groaning and screaming with sex from their rooms. If not in the halls. The loud music from the constant partying was everywhere the second it was dark. You even heard housewives discussing what drugs they inhaled as they carried brown grocery bags.

“He’s a Shy boy. At First. But if you're alone with him in a bedroom…well, it’s a different man. But it’s not so intense that your first time with him would be too much. Unless you want to try anal,” Charlotte informed you.

You shot a look at Charlotte. Kids ran around the pool and tried to cartwheel into the water by you.

But Helen nodded and smiled. She spoke with the cherubic cheerfulness of a Disney princess.

“Oh yes, even anal with Robert is fantastic!” ❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

Besides, you had more pressing matters. There was a party that Royal’s wife, Ann, invited you to. A full 18th-century style ball complete with costumes! And what luck that she had costumes in your size available to rent!

Your gown was a lighter color- a creamy white, right in a shade that flattered you. Every guest was dressed in white or cream in their Rococo attire, like you. Your stays loosened now that they adjusted to your body. There were peals and beading on the bodice. Your large skirt swished as you moved, enjoying a fresh glass of champagne in hand.

You went by to try and make small talk when you felt something hit your skirt and on the ground. It was a bottle of wine. Fallen to the floor. A baritone voice behind you muttered “shit!”

Your stays prevented you from slouching, you squatted down to get it. You saw a long, elegant hand also reach for it. You looked up to see a young man who was not in 18th-century wear but a modern suit. In the black jacket and pants. He stuck out like a sore thumb against all the white of the guests.

But Holy Crap he was gorgeous. Bright blue eyes, a soft crop of hair a color between blonde and red, and his suit held a tall, lean frame.

“Oh- I’m so sorry! Did I get your dress?” he asked.

You both got up. Your stomach flipping, you felt self-conscious. The cut of the gown and the stays were better than any push-up bra. It was bumping up your cleavage. You felt his eyes flutter down there and then jolt back up. Your hands clasped and you brought them up to your neck in both surprise and a surge of modesty.

“No, you didn’t at all!” you insisted.

You glanced at the bottle of Riesling he had- you liked that flavor. You enjoyed getting it from many an evening at the grocery store. Especially when your bank account was low. It was affordable, crisp, and delicious.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

You gave him your name. He reached his hand with a smile.

“I’m Laing. Doctor Robert Laing.”

Doctor Robert Laing? That Doctor Laing?! The gigolo!? That was who the ladies were discussing?! You thought.

You stared at him, adrenaline coursing through you.

“Oh! Doctor Laing! I heard of you,” you replied out loud.

You didn’t need to tell him the context though. You offered your hand and offered it for him to shake.

“Good things, I hope!” he added with a wink that made your heart stop.

He accepted your hand, his hands felt ice cold, but soft.

“And how do you know Royal? He wouldn’t invite you if you didn’t know him,” Robert asked.

“Not well. I do see his wife around. Got to chat with her. We wound up getting along. She invited me here. She insisted I go out and get to know the people here…moved in two weeks ago,” you explained.

“Guess I’m still new here too-Month and a half!” Robert chatted.

“What room?” you asked.

“2505,” he answered.

You got to about talking where you came from as he began to light a limp cigarette, puffing at it lightly. He was very polite. His eyes were on you, listening more than talking. You discussed what you thought of the High-Rise. If you have been to the spa yet. Who you met. You then discussed the music playing at the party. You told him the orchestra was playing ABBA. One of your favorite bands!

“Y/N, that glass is already empty- could I fetch you another drink?” he offered.

“Sure thing!”

Right as Robert turned to get your drink, a burly, bearded man in costume blocked him.

“Hey there, dickhead- this is a themed party!” he declared.

Robert Laing could hardly say a word before the brute half-picked him up, dragging him off. He held onto the Doctor’s collar like a cat carrying a kitten. Guests seeing him pass by snickered at Robert’s modern attire. But you followed.

“Hey! Put him down! He didn’t do anything!” you tried to protest.

You beat your fists at Jerkass’s arm, but he swiped you away. He ignored you as he grabbed the wine bottle from Robert’s hand. He tossed the handsome doctor into the elevator roughly. Then pushed the button for it to close.

The Doctor locked eyes with you as the doors slid shut and he vanished. His face looked sad and scared. Far from the swaggering sex maniac you heard of. “Cheap bastard” the Jerkass cursed at the bottle before tossing it on the white fur rug.

Royal’s dog, a white German Shepherd with a bow tie, approached the bottle to sniff it. You bent your knees and picked it up. Yes, it was a cheap brand. But it tasted good. And Robert was trying to be a good guest.

You hid the bottle behind your back until you snuck into the bedroom. The bed was piled with the coats and purses of the guests. You planted it in your large purse by the pillows amongst everyone’s things. Then you turned back to enjoy the party. After an hour, you left, saying you had work early tomorrow. You got your purse and punched the lift to the Twenty-Fifth Floor.

You went to room 2505 and knocked. Robert opened, bewildered. A strand of his hair had flown out and he lacked his jacket. Not that it detracted his looks, not at all.

“Here- your wine,” you offered.

You pulled the bottle from your purse and handed it to him.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he answered.

“Are you okay-You look like you’ve been in a fight!” you asked.

He let out a deep sigh, pressing a hand to his head.

“No- lift broke for a bit,” he explained.

“Oh, that’s miserable! As if being kicked out wasn’t bad enough!” you commented.

He looked down at the bottle. He turned to put it on a chair and then returned to you, leaning closer against the doorframe.

“You seemed to be happy there. I’m sorry I had to make you leave,” he apologized.

“It’s alright. I came to wear this costume. Nothing more.” you added, giving the skirt a swish with your hand.

He leaned a little closer.

“You do look beautiful in it,” he complimented.

Lightning struck you. The edges of your vision had stars and you tried to even process if what you heard was real. He took a step aside, gesturing to his flat.

“But that wine…it’s not as good to drink alone. How about…how about we split it?” he offered.

You froze where you were. Your breath stopped, becoming a lump in the middle of your throat. Your hands turned sweaty.

“I don’t have any food in my stomach for that much booze…” you answered.

His eyebrows lowered, yet there was an honesty in his eyes. Even innocence. No guile to have his way with you. Not like Helen’s husband, Wilder. Wilder would charge at you. Making offers of his bed or the nearest surface. Not caring when you said no. You’d slap him and flee before he could grab you.

The soft way Robert looked at you suddenly made you panic with regret. The words flew out of you like a burp.

“Serve it with dinner and I’ll call it a deal!” you blurted.

Shit, Shit, shit, what the fuck was I thinking? you thought.

Your pulse raced. That was too forward, too bold. But then he nodded.

“Alright. I’ll make it. You don’t have to provide a thing.”

Time stopped. You could hardly believe it.

“Then it’s settled. Are you free tomorrow?” you asked.

“Yes,” Robert confirmed.

“What time?” you asked.

“Let’s say Seven.”

“It’s done. I’ll see you tomorrow at seven.”

He smiled at you.

“I look forward to it,” he answered.

You said your goodbyes. The second you got back to your flat, you threw yourself onto the couch in a pile of white silk of your dress. You put a pillow to your face and screamed into it, kicking your legs in giddy joy. Your maturity level descending.

A date! A date! I have a date! I asked a hot guy out! And he said yes!!!! Oh my god, oh my god, how am I even going to sleep tonight??? ❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

The next day, you were out of coffee and bread and headed down to the grocery store. But who should also be there, wheeling a cart, but Helen. She waved at you, gesturing to you to come near her.

“What’s up, Y/N- there’s a look on your face! Was Royal’s fun?” she asked.

“Helen-I met Laing last night,” you reported.

She gasped and then smiled.

“See- lovely fellow! And a looker too, isn’t he?” she teased.

You looked down at your hands on the grocery cart with a smile that confirmed- Yes, he was handsome. Helen kept giggling, a blush on her cheeks. Then you returned up at her, an idea making you frown.

“And are you sure he’s available? I don’t want to make some poor woman miserable, even by accident!” you asked.

“Yes- not committed to anybody…he’s been around. But no attachments. If there was, I’d know!” she confirmed.

Your carts paused in the cereal aisle. You took a deep breath.

“I’m having dinner with him tonight” you announced.

“What! That’s wonderful! You did the work for us!” she chirruped, clapping her hands together.

“What do you mean ‘work’?” you prodded.

“Charlotte and I had a chat, and we had a plan- we were going to set you up with him. I’d go to you and tell you everything about him. Charlotte would go to Robert’s and sing every bit of your praises. Then you’d both agree to meet up or exchange phone numbers!”

You gave a smile and shrugged.

“Thank you-I appreciate the thought! But I’m able to find my own men and set up my own dates of course!” you replied.

You pushed your carts to a corner to talk. You then explained how you met him and the party. Returning the wine bottle and everything.

“He’s even going to cook- isn’t that thoughtful?!” she commented.

“I’m just nervous about it. Dates make me nervous,” you confided.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine,” Helen comforted.

A lady passed by with sunglasses over her eyes and a bold shade of lipstick. Passerby’s from the aisles asked for her autograph. She half-smiled and signed notepads with a flourish. The dog in her cart leaned his nose close at them to get a whiff, wagging his tail.

“Think of this- you’ll have a lovely dinner at minimum. And at maximum- you won’t be walking when I see you tomorrow,” she reasoned, raising a hand to rub her pregnant belly.

You felt your entire face get hot with embarrassment.

“I’m not the type to kiss on the first date, much less shag! It’s only a dinner-not a wedding night! But I’ll let you know how it goes. So don’t get your hopes up! And Helen, And that goes for Charlotte too! I know you’ll tell her!” you insisted.

Both of you wheeled your carts to get in the long line for the cashier.

“But I still have to…impress him,” you blubbered. Could you even live up to the other women here?

Helen rubbed your back, “If he didn’t like you, he’d say no. Y/N, you know he’s nice! Just wear your best dress-that should make you feel confident!”

You let out a deep exhale. Your carts moved forward in the line.

“Part of me is tempted to cancel. Save myself the embarrassment. Or the heartbreak,” you confessed.

Helen leaned into you.

“Charlotte says he sunbathes in the afternoons. Naked. Get to her place and look down if you want a peek at what to look forward to. That might convince you to go forward.” ❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

Holy shit, this can’t be real. I can’t be doing this, you thought.

Your heart was racing, your finger shaking as you pressed the button to go to the Twenty-Fifth floor. Up it went, up, up, up. You could chicken out and run away, but no- that was being a coward. Didn’t you want this in the first place? Hell, you were the one who flat-out asked him!

What if it all went wrong? What if then he hated you? What if you hated him? Yes, he was incredibly handsome but handsome men could be total pricks. Wilder was as handsome as they come. But the man was a slimy, creepy rat bastard you wanted to shove off the highest balcony. If only Helen would divorce his sorry ass by now. She didn’t deserve him. But what if Wilder was a sweet guy back then? What if when Helen began dating him, he wasn’t like that? People change. What if Robert seemed okay at first and then turned into an asshole who broke your heart or hurt you? What then?

But all that was for later. Now was now.

It’s a free dinner, at least you thought remembering Helen’s words.

Taking a deep breath, the elevator dinged, and you stepped out to the hall.

You checked a hand mirror in your pocket to make sure your makeup was right, and that there weren’t any noticeable stains in your teeth. Your dress was blush pink, showing your shoulders and snug on your body with a flared skirt. Pink, how ironic- that mix of innocent white and passionate red. You had jewelry and earrings complete with heels. The heating broke throughout for a few hours, and you wore a coat over your dress from the chill of the building.

There it was, checking the notepad you had in your pocket and then double-checking, it was the right room- 2505. You entered, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.

You knocked on the door and saw him. Your body froze at the sight of him. If this was real. If he was real. He was in a white dress shirt with a grey jacket and black tie. So simple, but so becoming. His eyes were soft when they looked at you, like the gaze of a doe. This couldn’t be the wild sex maniac the women of the High-Rise gossiped about. The man they went to for sex as they went to the spa for massages. Or was he?

“Hello, Robert….” You greeted.

He opened it.

“Please…come in…can I take your coat?”

“Yes…”

You sucked in the air when you felt him behind you, his hands raised up. Taking your coat. They were gentle as they brushed against your shoulders. You felt his eyes drink you in from behind. Seeing your dress. Seeing the outline of your body. But you did not raise an arm or hand to cover yourself, you let him look. He walked over and put the coat over a hook on the wall.

“Welcome, Y/N. You look lovely again. Make yourself at home,” he greeted with a smile.

Your chest fluttered as you mumbled a “thank you.”

You noticed the room- one wall had a tiny square of grey paint on it. But the other walls were tall and brown with rectangular columns- sleek and modern. A few boxes were in the back. There was a photo pinned to one wall of him in a casual shirt smiling and hugging a young woman. You thought you glimpsed a bed in one corner and promptly turned your head away to ignore it. Near the dinner table was a sliding glass door to a balcony like every house as the sun had finally set and it darkened to nighttime. The room was lit a little low- not garishly bright. But not too dark.

You saw him in his lovely suit and his tie. You smiled at him.

“Thank you so much, Robert. The place looks wonderful,” you complimented.

He gallantly pulled out the chair at the table for you. You made a smile too big for your face and your stomach fluttered. Robert made his way to the other end. There was the Riesling along with a small salad bowl and a meal.

“Well, what brought you here?” you asked.

Robert’s hand froze, fork in mid-air.

“It was my…my sister,” he answered.

“She invited you?”

“No, she died…” he replied.

This man at the party held himself like a demigod, a touch of the divine within him. But at the mention of his sister, here you were with the mortal half.

“Oh, Robert…that’s awful…” you said.

He began to blink. He then reached into his pocket, lit a cigarette with shaking hands, and began to smoke. His hands were still shaking after a several puffs with the cigarette. You saw a tear in the duct of his eye. You got up, went to your coat pockets, retrieved tissues, and hurried over to give him one.

“Here…here…” you said.

You heard sniffs. You then handed him a glass of water from the kitchen, and he began to gulp it up. His eyes were puffy with quiet tears. He then glanced at the photo.

“We were close. And she was the nicest, most genuine person you could imagine. She had a full life…but not a long one…” he continued.

“Robert, that’s still a tragedy…and you should grieve how you want….” You comforted, leaning closer to him.

Looking down at your hands, you saw they fidgeted. Glancing around the room, you wondered if now the right time was to even have this dinner. You retreated two steps from him.

“Do you need some space? I can go back to-”

“No! No- please! Please stay…” Robert pleaded, leaning forward in his chair, a hand up to stop you.

“Alright, I will.”

You returned to the chair and sat down.

“Sometimes, I’m over her. I think I’ve stopped crying…then it hits me…I’m sorry, Y/N, you weren’t expecting a crying mess….” He confided.

“I’m pretty sure losing a beloved sibling would make any person into a crying mess…” you reasoned.

He then looked at the dinner…

“We should start. The food might get cold,” he reasoned.

You sat down and began with the rolls in a basket on the table.

“So, tell me…tell me more about your job! I know you’re a doctor,” you queried.

“Well, I’m a physiologist. And a professor…” he said.

As he dug into the salad, his shoulders began to lower. His lips curled to a small smile as he looked at you.

“Not just a medical doctor? That’s impressive. That requires lots of studying to get approved!” you praised, nodding your head.

“I teach physiology to medical students in training. How to do autopsies. One poor chap flat out fainted once in the middle last month.”

“Well, can’t blame him! I see too much gore in a horror movie, and I have to cover my eyes!” you commented.

“It’s the human body! It’s fascinating!” he said, gesticulating with his hands.

He grinned wider and set the cigarette on an ashtray on the table. The salad and main course and side dishes vanished. Time passed easily talking to him. One topic you discussed excitedly so much that you had to freeze your hands from knocking over the Riesling bottle placed next to you. He lit a new one, and began to absent-mindedly smoke, but kept his eyes on you. You sipped on your glass and realized he had finished this.

“Oh, the bottle…it’s on the other side,” he commented.

“Here, let me bring it over. Would you like me to pour it for you?” you offered.

“Yes…”

You went over and poured the glass. He picked up the cigarette, the smoke curling up to twist and melt into the air. Then he looked at you with reverence above him. It was a nice picture. Domestic even. Your gaze met his and you pulled up the wine bottle before you could overflow his glass by accident.

Feminism was leaving your mind like filtering sand each second you laid eyes on him. Could you see yourself as his wife already? Was it too soon?

You could see yourself waking up next to him. Fixing him coffee in the morning. Adjusting his tie before he went to work, asking for him to tell you every bit of it as you gave him a demure kiss on the cheek. When it came to the time, he would be back home, you’d dress up with lipstick, skirts, pearls, and perfume just like now. You would have dinner prepared on the table or a hot bath too for good measure. He would enter and greet you with one of the smiles that made you flutter and a deeper kiss than that in the morning. You would pour him a drink when he came in. He’d praise the dinner but then look at you. Saying he’d rather devour you. Then pick you up. Carry you to the kitchen countertop. Shove away the leftover ingredients. He’d make hickeys across your pearl-draped neck. Then he'd push you to lie down on it. He’d lift your skirt, drop his pants and fuck you senselessly on the countertop until….

The footsteps of people out in the hall snapped you back. You felt your entire body clench, arousal already soaking your panties. A pit in your stomach with the food. You made yourself swallow the fantasy out. That was for later. You had to be present. Your body felt hot like it had a fever. Returning to your seat, you poured yourself another sip of Riesling. Grateful that he chilled it. Robert turned his head to the outside balcony, gesturing to it.

“Ah- look outside! It’s beautiful tonight! Sometimes I can hear the crickets…or see the stars,” he suggested.

The two of you went out to the balcony and looked up and out. You saw some stars, whatever wasn’t blocked by the fog of London nearby. Crickets chirruped from below. Both of you admired it for a few minutes.

He turned to you, flicking his cigarette off the end. It was like a tiny, red star before blinking into nothing. As if it dissolved into the night air before hitting the pavement.

“Y/N, thank you for earlier…and for returning the bottle…” he said with a smile.

“You’re welcome. They were dicks to you. And it’s a good wine. And thanks for opening up about your sister-I think there are half-off roses at the store. I’ll send some to you in her honor, just tell me a color…” you offered.

“I should be the one getting you flowers. I had work and had to cook the food- ran out of time,” he explained.

“Well, I’m not the one who needs it!” you quipped.

He chuckled warmly. You realized he was leaning closer. And you could pick up his scent- cigarette smoke and cologne mixed up in the drink that was Doctor Robert Laing. His eyes hypnotized you. His face, smooth and handsome, transfixed you. You felt his hands on your waist. You felt him lifting you up, sitting you down on hard brick and mortar. But your gaze never left his. You looked down and he up.

“Robert, I…” you began.

But the words stopped. Your thoughts stopped.

His eyes went to your lips. Then he touched your cheek. That cold, soft hand. He began to lean forward.

Oh God, Oh god, oh god, ShitFuckShitFuck, it was about to happen! You thought in a thrilled panic.

Before you could close your eyes and seal the kiss, you felt a gust of cold wind on your back. You were so transfixed by him that you didn’t register where he put you. Blinking and then turning around, you saw he had set you to sit on the balcony. Right over the twenty-five floors below to the hard concrete. A push of his arms and you were a goner.

You let out a scream.

You wrapped your arms around him. You clung onto him like a koala and buried your face into his neck.

“Robert! Please!” you cried.

You could feel his smile, but he wrapped his arms around you. His hands were on your back, supporting you, keeping you safe.

“Okay- it’s okay, I got you,” he assured.

“Take me off- now!” you insisted.

He wrapped his arms around you, picking you up like you were as light as a toy doll and setting you down. He wiped his hands on his sides.

“I’m so sorry. Some of the women liked that. I should have asked,” he apologized.

“It’s okay-you got me off!” you assured him.

“Here, I know what’ll make you feel better. I brought my records with me…would you like to hear one?” he asked.

You nodded. He brought out a box. There was such a wide variety that he collected. He insisted on not sticking religiously to one genre. Good music was good music. He offered you your choice of albums. You selected one of the old-school crooners from the fifties. He set it on and began to play it. The album started as you both sat there, listening. The music melting your adrenaline from the balcony. You turned and felt him look at you. He then offered an open hand.

“Can we…can we dance?” he offered.

“Yes.”

You felt him pull you up. You felt him take one hand in your other and you felt him reach an arm around your waist to your back. You both moved. It wasn’t as much dancing as it was gentle swaying. But he was so graceful, so soothing you didn’t care.

“Robert, why did you say yes to dinner?” you asked.

“I’ve been lonely here, Y/N. I wanted company. And after that party, I wanted your company…you made this lonely man feel a little less lonely in this place here.” he explained.

The crooner’s voice went up to end the song and a new one began.

“Your hands…they’re cold. Doctor’s hands are always cold,” you commented.

“Then here,” he offered.

Robert put one hand to his face, letting out an exhale. on the palm. Then he rubbed it on his pants. The friction creating more heat. Then he grasped your hand again.

“No cold hands, no?” he asked.

“Much better,” you nodded.

“Y/N, would you like to learn something medical?” he asked, continuing to sway with you.

“Yes.”

“You can feel the pulse in various places in the body, yes, but that includes your stomach. And that’s for a certain kind of pulse- PMI. Point of Maximum Impulse,” he explained.

“Where is it on me?” you asked.

“Well, can I touch you with my cold doctor's hands?” he quipped.

“Yes,” you answered with a giggle.

He lowered his hand to press the flesh gently beneath your left breast, and between rib bones. You inhaled sharply at his touch.

“There. That’s the PMI- one of the strongest beats from your heart. You can guess certain heart diseases feeling it,” he taught.

“And what can you tell about my pulse, Doctor Laing?” you asked.

His cheeks became pink at the word.

“That it’s…it’s racing…very fast.”

“And why does the heartbeat race? You’re the expert,” you teased.

“Anxiety or danger… but also excitement…”

“What about yours? How is your pulse?” you asked.

“Here…why don’t you tell me yourself…” he offered, smiling back.

You lifted your hand from his and placed it on the left side of his chest, over his grey jacket. You could feel it starting to race.

“It’s going fast too…” he whispered.

“From anxiety, danger…or excitement…”

“Yes…”

Robert then leaned forward, his nose grazing yours. An inch before, almost seeking permission. You gazed at each other’s eyes and then lips.

And finally, they touched sealing into a kiss. You felt him press you tight- an embrace you would never want him to release from. He held onto you. The music swelled- it was now a romantic ballad. He let go.

“I had a good night tonight,” Robert told you.

“I did too…”

His hand dropped to touch the side of your face. He kissed more and more. He pushed his tongue in, and you made a noise at the feel. Only to kiss him more. You felt his hand on your lower back press you closer. Your hips were connecting. Arousal soaked you down below. But even more this time. This time it was real. The friction made you chilled, hypnotized. Nothing, no one else mattered- except him.

“I…I don’t want it to end now….” He confessed.

He kissed you, but then you realized he had guided you right into the column before the kitchen, and he was pawing at your clothes, looking for the zipper in your back. Your mind then went blank in surprise.

“Robert- wait! Please, wait!” you pleaded breathily, putting a hand on his chest to stop.

He paused. His arms fell. A strand of hair was loose and his lips were bright pink.

“Did the ladies tell you about me?” you asked.

“No,” he reported.

“I know you’re experienced but I never…never did this before, Robert…” you explained.

“Oh...alright…” he nodded.

No comments. No words of lack of surprise nor total surprise. No laughter and no judgment. No teasing. He only accepted it as a fact, like the earth was round.

“I’m sorry. I got carried away. I got excited. I like you, Y/N. I like you a lot- but I’ll stop,” He apologized.

He took a few steps back.

Yet the look of him made you light-headed with lust. All yours if only for this night. The raving reviews of the women taunted your mind. And the creeping, slivering desire you felt for Robert Laing overwhelmed you. You realized you didn’t want to call it a night and return home. It was the first step of a steep hike. The view from above would be worth each nerve-wracking step. And that he felt for you…

Your heart was racing out of control. Your head was clear despite the wine, the pooling in your body was urging at you, telling you. It's time. You're ready. And you know it. You want this. You want him.

“I told you to wait… not to stop. Not completely. I trust you. I want this. And I want it to be you…” you directed.

“Are you absolutely sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” you replied, stepping forward.

You slide a hand behind his head, through his hair. He kissed you further, deeper. You moaned into it.

“The bed. If it’s the first time, you need the bed…” he whispered.

You would let him have you anywhere, but you still smiled. He led you over there to that bed. He laid you down.

“Look at you in that dress, it made me want to ruin you the minute you came in,” he growled.

He kissed you hard and passionately. You sighed into it. Some gentle pressure from his push and you laid down on the bed. He laid on top of you and you felt his weight. It wasn’t to crush you, but just enough that it was like an embrace. You felt a gasp from your lips as he undid his tie and tossed it to the side. His hands raised your skirt. He grinned seeing the nicest lace underwear you had selected. Already visibly stained by how wet you were.

“Here…I’ll make you ready even more, darling…” he said.

He crept a finger down the hem. He then looked up.

“Can I?” he asked.

“Yes, you can…” you nodded.

You let out a gasp feeling his finger inside you. He moved it around and you shuddered. A gasp that stopped in your throat as he stretched you out, felt your walls, getting deeper. He explored you and you had to get used to it- the newness, the intrusion. But you didn’t want him out yet. He licked his lips as he curled it up, eliciting a small moan from you. You felt him move up your folds and then finding your clit. As he began to circle it, you splayed a hand over his back and grabbed onto his jacket. A shuddering sound escaped you. The man was fully clothed but you were already a mess for him. You began to writhe as he circled it more, in response, a groan came out of you.

“There?” he asked.

“There!” you confirmed in a gasp.

“More, my dear-more?” he asked.

“Yes…then keep them- oh!” you cried, interrupted as he put in a second finger.

You felt your own legs open wider for space. He found the right spot, and you began whimpering. Neck arching and close your eyes to keep feeling it. Then he removed it, wiping the juices on your thigh. You felt cold, and empty without them in you. But that was only the first stage; preparation.

“Can’t believe I’m your first. First to touch you. First to ruin you. First to fuck you. I don’t want any man after to compare to me,” he boasted.

Your fingers began to grip the sheets to steady yourself. Both of you tossed away your shoes.

He unzipped the back of your dress. You pulled him forward, kissing him again, but moving to the lobe of his ear, his neck. He removed your dress. He took off your stockings, kissing your stomach as it glided over and letting it float down to the floor. You were in a bra and underwear. You raised a hand to cup his cheek. Despite the shakiness in your hands and your own brain racing through the fog of arousal, fear, and thrill. You pulled him in to kiss him again, not caring that your teeth clank. He wrapped an arm around you, and you felt the warmth right on your skin.

“We have some walls to test here. I want you to be screaming for the neighbors to complain,” he voiced, taking off his jacket to toss on the floor.

You half sat up and helped him to undo the buttons of his white dress shirt. With a smooth movement, he removed his pants. You saw the erect outline through his white underwear. You felt your eyes widen as you saw him. Tanned and ripped, clear muscles, strong biceps, and a wide chest and shoulders. He smiled proudly as you sat there ogling him.

“Like what you see?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said.

“That’s good. I like what I see too. There’s just one thing that could be better,” he said.

He went back to kiss you and felt one hand reach to your bra strap in the back. Both of you forgot about the enforced chill of the apartments. You had the fire of bare skin on bare skin. He paused and looked down at your exposed breasts with a smile. He raised his hand, grazing a thumb over your nipple. You shivered from it.

“This exquisite and uninvaded. Untouched. Looks like I’ll have to end that…” he mumbled.

He wrapped his arms around you to pull you back down, and you peppered kisses all over his jaw and his neck. You even found his earlobe and pecked it. You felt his own hardness press on you as well as his leg. A thin line of cloth on both of you. Nothing more, nothing less. Keeping your bodies from joining. Ache. Need. You felt him against you. Your hips rocked to his and Laing let out a groan. He teased his hardness against your clothed entrance.

“And you know the procedure, Doctor?” you teased with a heated giggle.

“I know it well if you want it,” he replied, his breath hot against you.

“Yes, please…I need you to fuck me,” you mewled, arching your shoulders back, tits splaying.

You never heard this tone in your voice. Wanton. Downright pornographic. But here it was.

You felt his own hips against yours and a shudder between you both. Then he crawled up, and you felt his hardness outline on your stomach. He looked at you.

“Then, keep laying supine…and keep calling me Doctor…” he requested.

He kissed one breast, eliciting a moan from you. He moved on to the other. Your arms reached down until your fingers traced his shoulders. You found his hair and combed all ten of your fingers through it. He moved down to kiss your hip bone. His own hands went up, tracing the side of your leg.

You felt his long fingers splaying over your hip bones and the hem. He was slow- as if enjoying feeling every inch of you. Curling around the hem, he pulled the panties down your thighs. He put them through your knees, through your calves, and off. As if this was a ceremony. Your heart drummed further, your head spinning as he looked down on you. He looked at you bare. His eyes kept between your legs, licking your lips at the sight of your sex.

He removed his underwear and kicked it away. He was already dripping small pearls. You swallowed a gasp. He was monstrous…not that you had any before to compare it to. He returned to hover over you. He pried your legs open with his hands, warm from his breath but also the touch of your skin. You felt your own hips arch forward for him.

You glanced over to the side, seeing the night. It was dark against the soft lights of the apartment. The sky was clear. Stars finally outshone the city smog. A beautiful, peaceful night indeed. A perfect night to lose your innocence to Laing.

He then tipped a finger beneath your chin, moving you to face him.

“I want to see you, I want to look in your eyes when I’m the first one to fuck you, the first to enter you. I want you to look at me,” he rasped.

“Yes, Doctor.”

Looking right into his eyes, you opened your shaking legs. He sank into you. Bit by bit. Inch by inch. Moans coming out of you. Then he moved his hips and let it all in.

You let out one little cry when he was fully inside. You felt his own heartbeat over you, his skin, and his moan right next to your ear. Your walls adjusted to him. You felt yourself clutch onto his back. He panted right next to you. He kept his eyes on you. Knowing how special this moment was. He finally claimed you. Nothing else would change that now in the future. Robert Laing was the first to enter you. The first to show you sinful bliss.

Then he pulled his hips back. You sighed at the feeling of the coldness from lack of him, and he brought it back with a sloppy thrust.

Your breath hitched when finally, he was inside. You felt his own heartbeat over you, his skin, and a moan right next to your ear. Your walls adjusted to him. You felt yourself clutch onto his back. Then he pulled his hips back. You sighed at the feeling of the coldness from lack of him, and he brought it back with a sloppy thrust.

“There…there’s a good girl…like that…” he rasped.

He thrust into you again, and again. A voice flew out of you, a voice you never knew you had. He began to pick up only slightly. You gasped- you liked this.

“Yes! Yes, yes! Doctor-fuck- yes!!” you hissed.

You tilted your head back, eyes closing to enjoy the sensation when he cupped your jaw and pulled it down. You opened your jaw as he traced a finger over your lips.

“Remember-eyes on me….” He panted.

You let his face meet yours. His lips grazed yours in an open kiss. He even took his forehead and pressed yours against it. You felt his breath hot against you.

“Angel, can you…can you take more?” he asked.

You nodded, your hands reaching to that strong back and digging your nails in. He responded by snapping his hips right into you, such a hard pull you felt the invasion arrange your insides.

“Doctor!” you cried out.

It was the sweetest invasion, the pinprick of pain that brought pleasure. He picked up the speed. His own groans from his pink lips serenade your whorish moans. Then more.

“Fuck, you’re-you’re tight. Shit-shit- taking me so well, there- there’s- fuck!-my good girl,” he whimpered as he picked up the pace.

You felt yourself get dizzy. Your hands around, reaching his hair and raking your nails deeper onto his back. He had found the right spot, your hips meeting his, but angling- deeper, with the speed increasing. You were sliding against the bed, yet you weren’t stopping him. He then took your lower thighs and lifted them, he reached the upper angle, near your clit. He was getting rougher.

“Doctor-Yes-oh, Jesus- Yes-yes!” you were yelling.

His thrusts were wilder. Faster. He grunted and groaned, eyes down on you. Here was the passionate man the women raved about. The desk next to the bed was shifting around with how deeply, quickly, and powerfully he was fucking you. And the bed itself was denting against the wall.

Something was bubbling inside you. Building up. He was cursing, then crying out your name. Something was building in you. Like you were going to break if you let it grow. Like you would die. But you wanted to. at the sound as he slammed you, hips slamming into yours as he kept up the fast rhythm. All as he looked you in the eye and you in his eyes. Then he put a finger in your slit and curled it on your nub.

The pleasure was rising. More moans came out of you. Not quiet ones. Bubbling up wilder as he stroked you there. About to spin out of control. You weren’t going to last.

“D-Doctor- I think I’m- I think I’m going to-“

“Cum-darling-cum, cum with me!” He was yelling as well, meeting your volume.

It built higher, higher, until-

You let out a last, loud cry.

The spinning pleasure snapped in you. You took in a slight gasp as the shockwaves of your peak. You felt him give a last shout of your name as he came too. He was pulsing inside you, and you felt yourself shake, an ache in your own pussy and legs. The record had stopped playing and there was only the white noise of the vents above you. The heat had come back on. Not that you or Robert needed it.

You fell together, feeling the eclipse of your shared high. You saw the ceiling spin above you. Slowly arriving back to. The apartment reeked of sex, of your bodies, of sweat, and the heat of passion. He pulled out of you; you could hear his own quick breaths. Trying to catch his own. Your entire body was heavy from your climax, craving sleep.

“Are you okay?” he asked, touching a hand to your shoulder.

“I’m…I’m tired…tired and wonderful,” you replied.

He smiled.

“I’m glad then…” he said.

You nestled close and wrapped an arm around him. Good night, you couldn’t have asked for a better hour.

“Robert, Thank you. I’m glad it was with you…” you complimented.

“So, I take that you liked it?” he quipped.

“I loved it- Doctor,” you answered with a giggle.

As you nestled closer to him, he laughed back with you. The laughter made his body under your arms jilt up and down. The sound rumbled and echoed through your skin. There was something pure about it. Sweet.

He let go. But it felt too soon. You wanted to hold him for longer. Cuddle him. Kiss him on the cheek and forehead. Call him every pet name under the sun. You leaned on your side and traced the outline of his cheek down to his shoulder. He blinked and watched your hands, unused to the intimacy. Then he shifted closer to lay on his side parallel to you. You wrapped your arms around each other.

“Can I stay?” you proposed.

His eyes went wide. His jaw went slack. Then he nodded.

“Yes- Y/n, please! I never had anyone stay over the night…” he confessed.

Your eyebrows shut up.

“You’re kidding!” you gasped.

Comparing you to his ex-lovers on a first date wasn’t a wise choice for a man. But there was a sadness in his voice. It made you halt. It made you listen.

“They’d take me. And then they’d leave. Not say a word when I passed them at the store. Like I was no different than their plumber…”

You traced a finger over his bare chest. Drawing figures as he beamed down at you.

“Then I’ll stay…but I might need my toothbrush tomorrow. My breath will stink if you kiss me in the morning,” you reminded him.

“I’ll brave it then,” he responded.

He leaned in to kiss you. Both of you settled in closer. Never letting go of the other. Discussing everything. Discussing nothing. Your exhaustion from your orgasm won over and you both melted into a peaceful sleep, there in room 2505.

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