#fem reader insert

“Get you hands off me, oh my god why are your fingers so cold? Your hands are usually warm! Stop it!” You bat at Cassie’s hands as she tries to get your temp. You had been practically lifted off your feet to get into the room in the first place. You had a shift in five minutes, and your friendly doctor McKay wasn’t letting you out until you had a clean bill of health. Her hands had already reached out to do the forehead and gentle hand temp check, and you were burning up. 

“Behave, don’t make me use the rectal thermometer, doctor.” The older, gorgeous doctor threatened, and she meant it. You were behaving worse than her son when he was ill. Harrison had texted his mother, warning her of your sick status. While Cassie had been worried, seeing you like that had her full blown over protective crazy mama vibes.

“It’s just a case of the spring flu,” you reason but your pushed back onto the bed. You don’t have the strength to fight her, had she been working out? 

The hospital lights offend you, making you squint up at the doctors form. Cassie takes your glasses off your nose and pockets them. You try to get them back but she’s faster, mad mom skills and all.

“Maybe, but I gave you your flu shot, though so I’m going to be thorough,” McKay tells you moving her stethoscope as Dana comes in with her little lamb. Emma's smile falters when she sees how pale you look.

“No, I don’t want to be a teaching hospital today.” You say rudely, and Dana narrows her eyes at you.

“Don’t listen to her, Doctors make the absolute worst patients. But as grumpy as she appears, she’s my favorite. So that’s why I came in to torture her.” Dana says, and Cassie squirms a little. And the charge nurse notices immediately.

“Dr. McKay?” Her eyebrows go up expecting.

You have such a high fever that you don’t understand or care about their silent argument. 

“I’ve got this, I think Robbie’s got a trauma comin' in.” She eyes the new nurse like that will be better for her. A nice bloody case for Emma. Not you, not while Cassie had you. No extra hands required. 

“Dr. McKay, is there a chart made up for our patient?” Dana makes her point clear, but Cassie still isn’t happy. The gentle threat doesn’t reach your tired frame. But to the other three women, it’s clear; If a chart is made, it’s not a personal call anymore. 

If anything, Dana could get Cassie off the case for her ‘personal feelings,’ but the nurse is more poking the soft butch to see how much of an ass she’s going to be.

“No,” you say just as the older doctor cringes and nods.

“Yes,” Cassie says on top of you. Her braid falling over her shoulder as her dark scrubs can’t hide the way her body tenses.

“Okay, let’s do some labs and see what color mucus you got kiddo,” Dana tells you and grabs the blanket, pulling it across your lap.

Your eyes drift, you can help it.

“I have rounds.” You say with your eyes already closed.

“You may present your own case if you would like,” Al-Hashimi states coming in and pressing her ID down on the scanner to see your chart.  Ignoring the rest of the room to find out what ails you.

Cassie hates this even more than Dana, way more. 

“I’ve got this covered, really, just some routine tests.” Doctor McKay is being possessive, and Al-Hashimi doesn’t back down.

They’d been doing this for the past five months, and it was getting to be a game of whose strap was bigger. 

Dana was over it, but you were ignorant to the butch brawl. 

Emma makes a scared face as her attention goes back and forth to the two women fighting about your chart. Even Dana waits on this one.

The children would get tired eventually, or she’d need to get a kiddie pool with mud for the two to work it out. 

Dana had her bets on Cassie, not because of the ankle monitor or the rough history. But not, not because of the ankle monitor, McKay just had this love for you. That the charge nurse was sure wouldn’t blow over anytime soon. 

Baran is the queen of passive-aggressive in these situations, though, and she easily calls ranks. 

“Then we’ll make sure to put a rush on them and find out, Dr. McKay, may I speak to you in the hall?” The senior attending requests even though it’s not a question. 

Cassie makes sure to leave with your glasses in her pocket; you wouldn’t be driving without them. 

“Of course Dcotor Al-Hashimi,” she says through her teeth. 

The two leave, and you miss how Cassie’s eyes linger in your shivering frame.

Dana ignores the fight in the hall and instead squeezes your knee comfortingly.

Voices raising and falling outside don’t matter; you did. 

Dana nods at Emma towards the computer, knowing she’d have better chance at bullying you into submission then the sweet young nurse. 

You yawn, and try to get warmer in the blankets. Sweat drips down your forehead and you really wish you had stayed home; the light was too much for your headache. 

Dana wipes at your forehead with her palm; it’s less medical and far closer to an intimate gesture. 

“So tired, Dana…” you whisper, and she smiles comfortingly at you. You were too cute to even the charge nurse like this, all docile and needy. 

“I know, kid, so no more bad patient, okay? Emma here is gonna get you a second warm blanket and I’m gonna get some fluids in you. Starting of course, with your temp, now are you gonna behave or do I need to put you over my knee like my kids?” She says, and you don’t have the energy to fight her. Though you can see how she would totally spank you.

“Apple juice? you squeak in question and even Emma can’t help but smile at how cute you are. The normally smart doctor that she was intimidated by was getting tucked in by the charge nurse and asking for juice.

“As much as you want, you just gotta let me take your temp.” Dana agrees, trying not to smile too openly at how adorable you were. No wonder the two gay ladies in the hall were arguing over your chart.

Your eyes lull closed and Dana takes it as a warning, grabbing the thermometer for under your tongue.

“How long you been feelin this way, kiddo?” She says low in her ‘mama bear’ sorta way. It works on you every time. You fold like a melted string cheese under just a little maternal push. 

“I took Harrison to this new exhibit.” You shiver, and the thermometer beeps and is pulled from your lips.

Emma types in your chart once she sees the high number. 

“Who’s Harrison?” Emma asks, being a little nosey. Thinking that it’s your boyfriend. Kids these days, she’s probably thinking he’s 5’9 in finance. Nothing could be further from the truth. Dana chuckles at her very wrong idea.

“Harrison is Dr. McKay's little boy, he’s smarter than many of the doctors on this floor and cuter than a button,” Dana informs Emma, and now you smile big.

Yeah that was a good way to describe him. 

“He’s adorable and knows he’s got me wrapped around his finger. How else would I start playing the Nintendo Switch on my weekends?” You say and your teeth chatter from your temp. 

“You saw the exhibit, you worked 3 shifts and you’ve been having a headache, haven’t you?” Dana asks but starts an IV. You don’t even twitch as the needle goes into your vein. 

“Who squealed?” You open one eye to glare.

Dana hid her laugh at the absurdity of the question. 

“You got family here, family talks.” Dana dismissed you but you still gave her a dirty gaze. It’s not scary in the least. 

“You have spies.” Your throat is raw, and you sound like Johnny Cash after smoking a pack. 

But the two nurses don’t tease you, too low-hanging fruit. Besides, Dana has worked hard to be someone you trusted, and it wasn’t her style to tease you while you're half unconscious.

“Everywhere.” Dana agrees just as the two doctors re-enter.

Both are looking equally unhappy.

“Temp?” Al-Hashimi asks and Dana lets Emma answer. She’s squeezing the IV bag, and watching you try and pull the covers up incredibly higher. Your scrubs sticking to your skin like wet newspaper. It’s rough and unkind and you want to sleep. 

“103.4,” her gentle voice is kind but you groan and yank the blanket over your head all the way. 

“Does Harrison have it too?” Emma asks and misreads the room. This wasn’t a discussion. Everyone looks at her and then Cassie.

“Excuse me?” The doctor doesn’t like that one bit.

“Why would her son have it?” Al-Hashimi asks, but her tone is off.

“He didn’t put on the astronaut helmet with the zillion children coughing in it, so no.” You say, and your voice gives out halfway. 

“Rest your voice,” Cassie instructs harshly and then eyes Emma with a new fire. 

“Either way, let’s just rule everything else out.”

“Baran!” You try to shout and her lips curl at you using her first name. Just as Cassie’s grinding her jaw.

“Healthy Doctors on my floor. Only healthy Doctors. Get some rest, Khvaab-e-shirin.” Baran reminds you and squeezes your blanket covered foot. 

The anger in Cassie’s features are hot enough they could light her fingers on fire.

But then the senior attending is out of the room again. 

“Stop it,” the head nurse snaps at Cassie. “Get that look off your face.”

She says, waiving her pointer in a tiny circle. 

“What?” Cassie pushes back rudely, only to get a threatening stare in return. 

“I warned our patient I’d take her over my knee, you want to go first?” The motherly threatening is enough that Cassie tries to bounce back.

“Blood draw, and a Covid test. Do strep too.” Cassie lists and Dana actually pulls back, looking offended. Like what was this her first day or something?

“Oh, and then what?” The nurse delivers sarcastically but Emma is typing rapidly on your chart. 

“Not you too, please.” Cassie winces after getting the riot act with Doctor Al Hashimi. A very uncomfortable back and forth where the two argued but also danced around the real issue. Baran wanted you and so did Cassie and neither wanted to work in the same shift while yearning over you. 

The blonde can’t believe this clear rudeness. 

“Hey, I’m bisexual too. You gonna fight every gay on rotation or just the ones in your weight class?” Dana arches an eyebrow, and Cassie’s eyes zone in on you to see if you're paying attention. Luckily you were out. 

You look like Harrison when he sleeps. Mouth open, little snores, body curled like a bug in a rug. Cuddling nothing but fabric, how Cassie wanted to crawl into that bed and hold you tight. 

Hold a cold cloth on your forehead and rub your lower back over and over. Hypnotic and consistent, watching over your sleeping form to keep you safe. 

Kiss your nose and soothe any bad dreams. 

Cassie McKay wanted the honor of being the person you snuggled against. 

Today and every night, never letting you get cold again. Feet pressed against her own under comforter and silent nights.

“Please Dana, I just…” Cassie is trying really she is, but she’s already raw. Already holding back from fighting with Baran. 

So the nurse's shoulders drop a little, no longer wanting to make her point.

She raises her hands up to stop McKay from trying to say another word. 

“You started the chart, you finish the chart. Emma and I will keep an eye on Sleeping Beauty. Go do rotations, by the time you're done with our first few happy customers, the labs will be back. You can’t do anything for her now anyway.” Dana says, gently reaching out to squeeze Cassie’s bicep and it helps.

Lord she needed a raise. 

“Why did I fall for the cute one everyone wants?” Cassie asks, and Emma tries not to grin at how adorably in love Dr. McKay is.

Dana shakes her head, but makes her way for the door. Pushing the doctor as well. 

“Listen, your girl didn’t get sick while on a date with Al Hashimi. Let’s remember who she spends every weekend with. Now stop marking your territory and scram.” Dana says, opening the door and walking the worried Butch out.

It’s hours later when you wake up. Sorta disoriented, you get anxious and jerk from the bed.

Strange fever dreams causing a cold sweat, you gasp in despair. 

“Hey, hey, hey, easy, it’s me,” Cassie shushes and in the dim light you blink wearily at her.

“Cass? Cassie that you?” You croak, voice something in between. 

“Yeah, I’m here. It’s okay sweetie, I turned off the lights so you could sleep better. Here,” she puts your glasses on your face and now you can make her form out better.

It soothes you and you fall back flat on the bed. Knowing she’s around always makes you feel better. 

“Am I dead?” You ask, with the IV in your arm and Cassie working on your chart.

“Not funny.” She says dryly.

“Sorta funny,” you challenge, only to see Cassie looking down, right concerned.

“You should have told me you were feeling sick.” She sighs, disappointed that somehow she missed this. You're burning out right in front of her. 

Cassie was always on you to drink water, to sleep, feeding you when you forgot. Packing extra lunches and extra coffee.

So how had the doctor so missed this? 

The answer was clear, because you hid it from her. That’s what really made Cassie sick to her stomach. 

“I could have worked my shift.” You insist. Anxious that you’d caused a fuss, a call out, you dropped the ball. Made work harder for the team. 

“Your temp spiked, you were delirious and dehydrated.” Cassie’s tone is getting more clipped, more tense, it’s building. 

In the dark you can see her worry is all consuming.

“Cassie, I just-”

“You just weren’t taking care of yourself!” She shouts and you flinch from her words and then you see her eyes shut as she tries to breathe and calm down. Not wanting to shout at you. Her temper flaring because she’s scared.

“Hey, I’m alright. I just needed some fluids and and-” You start but Cassie wipes at her face and you wonder if you’ve broken something in her. 

“You, make everyone else a priority. You can’t burn out like this, your important. Not just a doctor but…Damn it.” Cassie chews on her bottom lip trying so hard to figure out how to do this. 

“I didn’t want to worry you.” Your voice cracks and your head is pounding. 

“That’s what’s got me worried.” Cassie lets out a self deprecating sound and whispers at her feet. 

“Cassie, it’s just the flu.” You say gently but Doctor McKay isn’t able to let it go. 

“I need you to take care of yourself, do you understand? You matter. I need you….” Cassie is opening her mouth and she can’t say the rest because that sentence really sums it all up. 

Cassie McKay needs you. 

“Your mad I didn’t tell you.” You say now, thinking of how you’d evaded her. 

Her head falls before she lifts it and tries to calmly discuss this. 

“I can’t take care of you if you won’t let me.” Her voice cracks and you reach out, it doesn’t take your fellow doctor more than a second to grab your hand back.

“You have enough to worry-” You try but it makes the older woman huff and cut you off. 

“No, no, you don’t get to decide. That’s not how this works.” Cassie insists and you sniffle and she can’t stay mad at you when your sick and out of it. 

So you two just hold hands and stare at one another. 

“I don’t wanna get you sick.” You whisper, voice straining and Cassie leans forward and pulls wet strand of your hair back off your face. 

“I’ll take my chances.” She says gently with love in her eyes. 

“Harrison told me it probably had more germs then chucky cheese ball pit and I still put it on. I wanted to be an astronaut.” You say in hushed tones and Cassie can’t help but snort at that. 

“What am I gonna do with you,” Cassie keeps playing with your hair and holding your hand. 

“Let me win mario cart once in a while?” You try with big pleading eyes. It wasn’t fair that she could beat you and Harrison. 

“Not a chance, that’s my street cred.” The older woman says and you giggle then wince in pain. 

“I brought you apple juice and applesauce, and I even snagged a donut. But you have to take the tylenol. Or I’m withholding the sprinkles.” She’s got a bunch of goodies on the tray.

“You are cruel.” You say back and Cassie nods like she’s tough shit. 

“You know it,” The doctor helps you sit up, propping the bed and pillows until your up. 

“I feel like death.” You say in pain.

“Now she tells me,” Cassie lays it on thick and you try to be grumpy about it. But you want that pink sprinkled donut dang it. 

“If this is the end, I just want you to know-”

Now Cassie’s not having any of it. She shakes the pill cup. 

“Don’t even, jokes about your death will not get me to share sugar.” The older doctor warns. 

“I see the light,” you push but take the pills and Cassie opens the apple juice and you take a swig. 

“Last warning,” Cassie informs lifting the donut and taking a bite herself. 

Your eyes widen, in despair - how could she be so mean. 

“I thought you swore to do no harm.” You stick out your bottom lip. 

“Dana said she’d spank you if you were bad, what do you think I’d do?” Cassie actually flirts and you lose your ability to speak at the idea. 

Dirty dirty thoughts, fuck what a sight.

“That’s what I thought, be good. I’m taking you home after my shift,” she checks her wrist watch. “So in exactly four more hours, so if you can not develop any new illnesses between then and now I’ll even let you pick dinner.”

You don’t get to say anything else, but Cassie sets the rest of the donut onto a napkin and moves the tray over your hospital bed. 

“I’m still trying to decide if I want to be good or not,” you flirt but you aren’t joking. You don’t know if you can blame it on the temperature. 

Cassie gives you a long look before leaning over your body and kissing your forehead. 

You can’t help but close your eyes and feel more loved from such a tiny peck than you had your whole life. 

Cassie lingers too long to be considered friendly, before leaning back and eyeing you. Your flushed from the temperature, that’s what she tells herself. 

“You’re already in the dog house. Now no more death jokes, close your eyes. Good dreams only, and drink your juice.”

“I want Chinese.” You say, but your heart is doing summersalts in your chest. You don’t want her to go.

“Behave.” Cassie says one last time before moving towards the door. 

“Can I have another kiss if I promise to?” You for sure can’t blame it on the temperature now. 

But Cassie also couldn’t resist such a request. She moves back to your bed and goes for your forehead but just as you close your eyes to enjoy it again. 

She moves down and pecks your lips. 

You must look like a cartoon because when you open your eyes she’s smiling at your lovestruck look. 

Your grin is so big it actually hurts your cheeks. 

“Four whole hours?” You ask needy and revel in how much Cassie seems to like you like this. 

“Two hundred and fourty minutes,” Cassie agrees but in the dark now you think you can see her own blush. 

“Do you have to go?” It’s desperate but real.

“Dana already is grumbling because I came in here every twenty minutes while you were sleeping. I think if I stay any longer she’ll send Al-Hashimi in and put me on AI charts all night.” 

“Baran’s nice!” You argue and your voice cracks. Cassie grabs your juice and makes you take a sip but she’s already disagreeing. 

“Hey, don’t forget who’s got your chart.” Cassie threatens and you wonder why the two doctors don’t get along. 

You frown and give a little pout. 

“You sure you want to take me home? I’m overly needy when I don’t feel good, I know this, and it’s gross.” You say but Cassie shakes her head. 

“I like you like this.” She admits afraid of how you’ll react.

“Bedridden, waiting for the end.” You tease again and Cassie grabs your donut and holds it up. 

“I warned you.” Cassie’s got this look that you can’t place. 

“Not the donut! Anything but the donut.” You shout playfully and move your hand to try to take it. 

“Can you be a good girl?” The older doctor asks and you can’t explain the full body reaction you have. 

Except that you were sick and maybe subspace was easier to reach like this….or maybe it was all Cassie McKay. 

But you sink and the butch see’s it immediately. Tilting her head to the side she sets the donut back down and cups your cheek. Swallowing the sugar and wondering what you taste like.

“Can you be my good girl?” Cassie asks now, and she needs you to say it. Needs it to be true. 

Your lip trembles just a bit, but the hold on your face has you feeling so cherished that you get choked up. 

You nod once.

And Cassie likes that, she likes that more than anything. 

“Good, eat, drink, sleep. Fourteen thousand four hundred seconds, then your butt is being released. And you can get as much sweet and sour soup as you want. Okay?” McKay says more to herself than to you, she’s never been more excited to get off shift. 

You nod again and grin, and Cassie doesn’t want to leave you but she’s got to. 

“You okay here?” She asks, but she’s stalling.

You nod again, then Cassie’s taking off your glasses and putting them back in her pocket.

You two stare at each other with more feelings than you can take, it’s bursting out of your chest. But she’s walking backwards to the door. 

Hesitating, not touching the doorknob. 

Almost like she’s afraid if she leaves maybe you’ll change your mind, or maybe this was all too good to be true. 

“1.44e+7” You whisper and she looks confused for a second before realizing you are doing the math for the milliseconds. 

She points to the applejuice and you grab it again and drink.

“My good girl.” 

Take care of yourself

- - -

Soft, lavender sheets. Honey over a warm, homemade breakfast with coffee at the Three Broomsticks. The Hogwarts grounds at the cusp of spring.

Those were the scents he could so clearly make out in Potions this afternoon. It was his final class of the day, and he’d successfully produced an incredibly effective batch of Amortentia. He could tell that because all he could smell was you.

The scent overtook him, shaking him with surprise. His breath caught in his throat. His eyes rolled backwards, closing to conceal the embarrassing gesture. He swayed ever so slightly, his fingers bracing himself against the lab table. Fuck.

“Are you alright, dear boy?” Professor Slughorn’s voice broke through his fantasies.

Regulus’s eyes popped open. The pleasant dizziness subsided only a bit. He nodded.

“Yes, sir, I’m…,” he trailed off. Subconsciously, his eyes glanced toward his cauldron. It steamed gently, the coloring of such flickering soft oranges and pale blue-purples. It was reminiscent of the smells it gave off.

Slughorn’s eyes found his cauldron as well. “Ah, I do believe I can smell it now. It appears you’ve made a superb mixture of the love potion.” He chuckled gleefully.

“Well, now, tell me—what do you smell?” The professor asked, a devious glint in his eye.

“I—er…” Regulus stuttered. It wasn’t as if the scents would indicate anything that related to you, but his knowledge of his perversion made it seem like anybody could know. Besides, if anyone in this room was a Legilimens—he was already screwed.

So, he swallowed nervously and told him. Soft, lavender sheets were reminiscent of your scent. The uniforms that you kept washed and prepared so perfectly in that delicious laundry soap were almost too much for him to bear sometimes. He always knew when he’d just missed you in a room—your scent was overwhelming.

Honey over a warm, homemade breakfast with coffee at the Three Broomsticks. Every Saturday morning, you would join your friends at approximately nine o’clock right inside Hogsmeade. The first few times he’d caught you there, it was by accident. The last dozen, he’d intended to be there.

It didn’t take long to figure that aspect of your schedule out. It just clicked one day that you always happened to be there at the same time. One day, he decided to test his theory and went back the very next day at the same time. And, sure enough, there you were. Gorgeous with a dazzlingly bright smile. You sipped at your creamy coffee and drizzled golden honey over your breakfast. That time he’d realized you always went there on Saturdays, was one of the most beautiful times he’d ever seen you.

The Hogwarts grounds at the cusp of spring. This one was more so a mixture of his love for the school and his love for you. The changing of the seasons at Hogwarts was beautiful and comforting anyway, but you had done to it what you had done to everything else in his life. You took it over, bleeding into every aspect of it like paint in water.

With every early blooming flower, he saw you pressing your nose to them, intaking their scent with a gentle smile on your lips. With every spring shower, he saw you giggling amongst your friends as you raced across the quads to reach your classroom.

Everything he loved had become infected with you, and he didn’t care. He only wanted more.

Professor Slughorn nodded and gave him one last smile before wandering away to check other students. If he had any inkling that any of what Regulus smelled had anything to do with you, he didn’t show it.

Regulus turned back to his cauldron and inconspicuously leaned in, taking another deep breath. The smell was intoxicating. So much so, in fact, that he felt his trousers beginning to tighten.

His eyes snapped open and he looked around the classroom. Everyone seemed focused on their projects. He tugged his robes tighter around his front to cover his issue.

Fuck, when was class going to be over? Desire filled his limbs like a sweet warmth. All he could think about was you—your body, your hair, that smile. He switched his weight back and forth between each foot, fidgeting idly.

His eyes closed as he popped his neck, trying to urge his brain in a different direction. But, of course, everything led back to you.

He’d overheard you talking to your friends earlier this morning, stating that you would be in the library until later this evening while you waited for your laundry. In lieu of looking like a complete stalker, he’d told himself he wouldn’t follow. He would wait in his room and leave you be until this Saturday where he’d resume his typical routine by taking a small booth in the corner, and admiring from afar. But, now, the lust burning within him was almost too much to bear.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, that is all for today!” Slughorn announced. Fucking finally.

That was all Regulus waited around to hear. He muttered a quick vanishing charm over the cauldron. The Amortentia inside and all evidence it had ever been there disappeared before his eyes, but the scent of you lingered. He snatched his bag off the ground and made for the doors.

Somehow, his cauldron would find its way to the collection of them by the door. But, for now, he had to get back to his room and take care of his problem.

His mind raced with thoughts of you, which only served to worsen the pressure in his pants. Your exposed neck flashed across his eyes, your lips spread over your teeth, your body shuddered beneath his. One day, he’d see those things. But, for now, his imagination would work.

At least, it had been. The last few times he’d used you as a visual to get off, it’d taken much longer than it used to. His attraction to you was anything but fading, but his imagination was beginning to not cut it anymore.

If only he could have something of yours that would—

He stopped in his tracks. The entrance to the laundry room stared back at him.

Hadn’t you said something about waiting on your laundry this morning? Would your laundry still be in there?

That was too far. He was beginning to act like a total creep. But, what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you. Right?

With a preemptive glance around, he slipped into the laundry room.

One single house elf wandered about the far corner, sprinkling some scented concoctions over drying clothes on a rack. She did not seem to bear him any mind as he stalked in.

Regulus’s eyes scanned the room, searching for anything that reminded him of your uniform. Nothing really stood out and, amongst the hundreds of laundry soaps being used, he was having a hard time singling your scent out. Until, he came across a hamper in the corner waiting to be picked up.

It seemed to be filled with uniforms only, but a small metal plaque was imprinted on the side of the basket. Your initials were etched into the silver. His breath caught in his throat. It could have been someone else’s with the same initials, but there was only one way he’d know for sure.

He walked over to the basket and picked up the set of robes at the top. Gently, he pressed them to his nose and inhaled.

His limbs all but melted. These clothes were yours, without a doubt. Fuck, you were irresistible. He gripped the robes and contemplated. Was there anything of yours he could take without you noticing? How wrong was this, really? He wasn’t sure. He felt like a total creep, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted you so fucking bad. He just hadn’t quite figured out how to approach you yet.

And, just as he had begun to set the robes back into their basket and move on—deciding that this behavior was unacceptable—something slipped from within the robes. A flash of a pale peachy color caught his eye.

Interested, he set the robes back into the basket and squatted down to get a better look. Laying scattered across the floor was a lacy coral pair of underwear.

The rear panel of the piece was cut high and couldn’t have covered much of your ass. He swallowed thickly, pinching the material between his fingers.

Without another thought, he shoved the panties into his pocket and disappeared back down the hallway.

When he returned to his dormitory, he locked the door and crawled into bed, pulling the canopy curtains shut tight.

And before he could question the morality of all of this anymore, his desire overtook him. With a shuddering breath, he ripped his belt off and pulled himself out of his pants.

He grabbed the panties out from his pocket and hesitantly took in a breath. Your scent hit him like a rock. He all but groaned and struggled not to come from the sight of your underwear alone. Merlin, he was pathetic.

He pressed the fabric to his face as he began to pump himself to the thought of you. The image of you in these would have him on the floor clawing for you if he wasn’t careful.

Already, he was close and near ecstasy. His eyes opened as an idea crossed his mind. He wrapped his knuckles in the lacy material and then placed his fingers back around his dick. He continued to pump himself with the scratchy fabric tightened against his fingers. He shuddered at the sensation, his eyes rolling backward.

He placed a hand over his mouth to muffle the impending sounds. His head fell back against his pillow. His chest jerked beneath each wave of building pleasure.

Before he could hold it in, he came hard around his fist, your panties soaking in his release. As hard as it was, he forced his eyes open to catch the visual. The sight alone nearly made him come again.

And before any guilt about the situation could cloud his mind, he dozed off with you on his mind.

***

By the time he’d woken up, showered off all of his guilt, and made it to class, he’d worked up enough anxiety upon seeing you that he’d hardly even noticed you weren’t in your normal seat.

His eyes glanced about the room, straying away from the spot they usually locked onto every time he walked in.

He noticed that you were seated right beside his normal spot. His breath stopped in his chest. He nearly turned back around and skipped class, before you caught his eyes with yours. His lips parted as he tried to decipher your expression. You must know what he had done. Why else would you be up there?

Your eyes dropped and a hint of a smile brushed across your lips. He took in a shuddering breath and tightened his fingers around his bag strap. His heart pounded in his chest as he worked up the courage to climb the steps to reach his seat.

This classroom was arranged in an auditorium-type setting, with each row of seats on an elevated set of bleachers that stood about ten rows high.

He’d always sat at the top because it gave him a perfect view of the back of your head, and, more importantly, the tops of your breasts when you’d lean back over the edge of your seat to stretch. He was such a fucking freak and he hated himself for it, but he could not help it.

He reached his seat and sat, knee bouncing nervously beneath the desk.

“Good morning, Regulus,” you spoke quietly. Despite your odd tone, his name on your lips sped his heart rate up even more.

“Er, good morning,” he responded. “What’s up?”

His attempt to sound nonchalant was thoroughly ignored by you as you slid a folded piece of paper onto his desk. Before he could question it, you stood and made your way back to your normal seat.

Maybe it was the nerves wracking his brain, but he could swear you’d buttoned one less button on your shirt than you usually did today.

Right on cue, you leaned backward over your chair and stretched. This time, it was different. The edges of your black bra were ever so slightly exposed this time. You had definitely buttoned one less. And your face found his, smirking slightly.

You knew. You had to.

He broke eye contact and scrambled with the piece of paper, unfolding it as quickly as he could.

I know what you did. You should have just asked. Meet me in my dorm after school. 5pm.

If his heart could physically pound even harder, it did. The blood drained from his face. How could you have known? Did the elf tell you? Fuck, he was going to be sick. The lace panties currently sitting in his back trouser pocket were burning a hole through the chair.

He shouldn’t have brought them. He couldn’t help himself. He needed you so bad. Just gently fingering the material beneath his robes was helping him through the morning.

He took in a deep breath and pulled his hand from his pocket. He needed to focus on something other than you. You were driving him completely insane.

And yet, the class and every other aspect of his life was nothing compared to you—your scent, your face, your voice, your panties around his cock.

He shuddered with want. His heart pounded. Sweat beaded at his temples. If he stuck around much longer, his vision was going to start blurring. He grabbed his bag and whisked himself down the bleacher stairs.

The professor hadn’t yet arrived and was not there to see him disappear through the heavy wooden door.

The door clunked shut behind him, echoing down the corridor like a blast of lightning. He all but ran to the men’s lavatory at the end of the hall, pushing through that door, while trying to ignore the fact that he swore he’d heard the classroom door shut a second time.

He wouldn’t allow himself to hope that it was you running after him.

He ducked down and assured himself that the bathroom was completely empty. His bag dropped from his shoulder as he ran over to the porcelain sinks lining the far wall.

Pain scorched through his chest as his breath came out rapidly. He ripped his robe down his shoulders, letting it slip to a pool on the ground. His hands slammed against the sink, fingers twitching in panic.

He ripped his uniform sweater vest over his head and tossed it away. The old faucet squeaked as he jerked it on, letting the cold water rinse over his hands, then splash onto his face.

He all but panted into his reflection; his cheeks flushed and his eyes lidded. He needed something. Anything. It felt like his insides were on fire.

Before he could turn and whisper a locking charm over the lavatory door, it burst open, revealing you in your full glory. Your chest pumped with heavy breaths as if you’d run to get there.

Anticipation in seeing you jerked through him, a small gasp catching in his chest. Neither of you spoke for a few moments.

“I—”

“Don’t speak,” you interrupted immediately. His jaw snapped shut, his hands anxiously gripping the sink behind him. The still running water began to seep over the sink’s lip, sliding down through his fingers. The cold feeling over his hot skin forced a small gasp from him.

Wordlessly, you willed the sink to stop. The water shut off, and the last bit of leaking liquid fell across his fingers and hit the floor with a gentle splatter.

“The elf told me what you did,” you finally spoke. So he had been right. That was how you’d found out. “She told me a dark-haired boy stole something from my basket. I knew it was you.”

“How—how did you know?” Regulus stuttered out.

“Please. If you were anymore obvious, you’d have begged to fuck me in the middle of class,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. Regulus flushed a deep red at the thought, in disbelief that this conversation was really happening. What made it even crazier was he couldn’t tell if you were mad or not.

“You’ve been obsessed with me for months. I’m not stupid, and you’re more obvious than you think.”

“I—I’m sorry,” Regulus frowned, looking down at his shoes. Embarrassment flared uncomfortably in his stomach. He could feel his cheeks and ears heating up substantially. Despite his desires, he wanted to be far away from you at this moment.

“And yet, I can’t find it in me to be mad at you,” you said. Regulus’s eyes snapped up.

“Do you like me?” you asked, head tilting to the side at the question. Regulus’s mouth parted as if to speak, but stuttered as no words came out. He had silently begged for a scenario where he could admit his feelings to you for months, but now, when it was all he needed to do, he couldn’t speak.

“Reg, do you like me?” You said each word slowly and overenunciated. Your eyes were wide and your head nodded with each word, as if you were talking to a badly-behaved dog. For some reason, that turned him on even more.

He couldn’t speak, but he could show you how much he liked you.

This was either going to go very well, or he was going to elongate this humiliation ritual indefinitely. Then again, your humiliating him was not doing much to put him off. If anything, it was making him harder.

He pressed his lips together and let his hands slide off the sink. He slowly dropped to his knees, the left one bracing against the wet tile, then the right one shortly after. His eyes never left you—lidded and needy. Your eyes lowered with his body.

“Crawl.”

A shuddering breath left his lips, but he did not let anything deter him. At this point, he’d bare himself naked and rip his own chest open to get to you.

His hands braced against the wet floor and he crawled toward you. He moved slowly, carefully, so you could turn him down if you decided he wasn’t worth it at any point in the process. He wanted you to know that he was a choice—a disposable one at that. He was less than that.

Once he was inches from your body, his eyes stopped at your unclothed thighs, taking in every inch of your skin until it disappeared beneath your uniform skirt. He forced himself to look away and find your eyes.

Your expression was only describable as bored. If anything, you could have been disgusted with him. What did you want from him? Without instruction, he was useless. He wanted to touch you, to show you how bad he wanted you. He leaned his face forward ever so slightly and glanced up.

When you didn’t protest, he inched closer and closer until, with a shaky breath and a barely stifled moan, he pressed his face above your right knee. He trailed his nose across your skin, breathing your scent in. His hands pulled from the ground and gently cupped the back of your leg.

He exhaled roughly. His lips dragged across the top of your knee, tongue barely darting out to scrape along your flesh.

He placed a line of hot, wet kisses upwards until the hem of your skirt brushed against the bridge of his nose. He paused, looking up at you for permission. He could smell your desire.

You still had a plain expression on your face, your arms crossed. You didn’t say anything, so he took it as a pass to keep going.

He pushed his face upward, your skirt sliding over his face and shielding his eyes from the light in the bathroom. Hesitantly, his lips pressed over you from over top your bottoms.

They were lacy like the ones currently sitting in his back pocket, his tongue could taste the design poured over them. Despite your disinterested expression, you were unbelievably wet. As soon as his mouth pressed to you, the pressure from his jaw forced a gush of desire from between your thighs.

He audibly moaned at the flavor. All hesitancy left him and he pulled the entirety of your cunt over his face. He heard you gasp at the sudden pull, your fingers bracing against his curls as you struggled to keep your balance.

Your legs were split down over his jaw as he worked his tongue over you, revelling in your taste through the lace. Your nonchalance faded away as he continued to kiss against you. Soft moans slipped from between your teeth, echoing gently off the lavatory walls.

“Fuck,” you whispered, fingers tightening in his hair. When you didn’t stop him from going any further, he traced his fingers up the length of your thighs until they reached the waistband of your panties. He slipped his fingertips beneath the strap and pulled them down, the material soaked in a mixture of his saliva and your desire. He pulled his mouth away from you only long enough to push your bottoms down to your ankles, before reuniting his lips with your bare core.

At the connection with nothing in between, he watched through lidded eyes as you threw your head back and moaned aloud. “Reg…fuck, baby!”

The sound of those words on your lips only urged him on faster. Every time he’d touched himself at night, it was to his imagining what you’d sound like as he pleasured you. And this was everything he’d hoped for and more.

Even if you ditched him and never let him touch you again, he’d never lose the memory of your gorgeous body, your taste, your scent, your sounds. Shit.

Before he realized it, he caught himself grinding against your shin. He had no idea how long he’d been doing it for, but it had to have been a few minutes at least, as he felt a coil of pleasure building in the base of his stomach.

“You get off from pleasuring me, Reg?” you teased, scraping your nails easily against his scalp.

He moaned in confirmation, clutching at your ass, kneading the soft skin there as he continued to consume you.

“Shit, baby, I’m gonna…”

Regulus buckled down and traced every inch of you, his tongue swirling as roughly as it could. His hands gripped your thighs even tighter if that was even possible.

As he worked you further toward your orgasm, you let out increasingly loud, breathy moans that pounded in his brain. And with each one, he echoed with one of his own. He forced you closer, and forced himself closer.

And then you were gasping, and clutching at his curls even tighter than before, just as you broke around him. An excess of your lust gushed around his lips, and slid down his cheek and throat in gentle beads.

At the flavor and the way you clenched around his tongue, he came into his trousers, his hips no longer trying to seem subtle as they rocked against you. He panted raggedly against you as he continued to work you through your end, despite the power of his.

Once you had come down from your high, you all but collapsed against him. Your knees buckled and he caught you as you melted into his arms. All of your confidence had seemed to have fallen away. You shuddered as aftershocks hit you like waves.

He wiped his mouth along the length of his sleeve, before gingerly wrapping his arms around you. He only meant to test the waters, but just as with before, you did not question him and you did not push him away. In fact, he felt you snuggle against him with a contented sigh.

With a burst of confidence, he raised a hand and gently eased it across the crown of your head, smoothing your hair along the way. You said nothing, but your fingers gripped against his robes.

He needed to get you up and pull you into your dormitory, so you weren’t resting on the floor of the bathroom. He could tuck you into your bed, and watch you as you fell asleep, just like he’d always wanted to.

But, for now, he was happy with holding you as he could, with your taste still in his mouth.

- - -

You had no idea how you ended up like this—on your hands and knees, your back arched so obscenely deep that your ass was high in the air, presenting like some desperate bitch in heat. You’d been like this for what felt like hours, stuffed full of two thick cocks, stretched beyond reason, your cunt clinging to them greedily despite not knowing how the hell they even fit in the first place. But they did—oh, they did—and now, they dragged against your slick, gooey walls, each thrust sending pleasure-cracked lightning through your body. One thick, blunt cock nudged mercilessly against your sweet spot while the other rammed into your cervix over and over, a punishing rhythm that left you shaking and delirious, every nerve in your body reduced to raw sensation.

The filthy plap! plap! of skin against skin echoed through the room, mingling with your ragged moans. Every thrust sent Leviathan’s heavy balls smacking against your swollen clit, the impact making your toes curl, your body shudder. It felt too good—too much. Your eyes rolled back as you drooled onto the floor, your body strung tight between pleasure and unbearable need.

“L-Levi! I-it’s—ah!—too much!” You whimpered, weakly trying to crawl forward, your trembling hands dragging uselessly and pathetically against the smooth floor. But you barely made it an inch before he growled, his long, serpentine tail snapping around your waist like a vice.

With a sharp yank, he hauled you back hard onto his cocks, impaling you deeper, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your vision blurred with white-hot pleasure as he bottomed out, stuffing you so full your cunt spasmed around the thick intrusion, making you choke on a broken scream.

“But it wasn’t too much when you were acting like a little slut around Belphie, huh?” Leviathan spat, his voice laced with venom. One clawed hand cracked down onto your ass—

SMACK!

A high-pitched mewl ripped from your throat as your abused cunt clenching down around him like a vice, milking him without even meaning to. His rhythm never faltered—deep, ruthless strokes that had your thighs quivering, your mind unraveling at the edges. Your mind scrambled, barely able to grasp what he was talking about—Belphie?

Vaguely, you remembered the youngest brother trying to tug you down for a nap, how you’d squirmed away, desperately refusing because you knew how Leviathan got. As much as he was the awkward, blushing otaku who stammered at the mere mention of holding hands, he was also the Avatar of Envy. And when that envy took hold of him?

He fucked you like the demon that he was, like he needed to carve his claim into your body, brand you from the inside out.

And fuck, it was always so hot.

“I-I—ngh!—didn’t d-do anything,” you moaned, only to yelp when Levi yanked your head back by your hair, exposing your throat, forcing your back into an even deeper arch. His cocks drove into you even harder, your walls stretching around him in helpless surrender. You swore you could feel him in your throat with how impossibly deep he was.

“Didn’t do anything? That w-wasn’t—ah!—an apology, you fucking whore,” Leviathan sneered, his sweaty indigo bangs plastered to his forehead, coral horns gleaming under the ethereal blue glow of his massive fish tank. Henry 2.0 swam lazily in the background, oblivious to the debauchery taking place in front of him.

The creamy mess at the base of his cocks was proof of how many times he had already wrung you dry—how many times he had forced your spent cunt to cum, again and again, until you were nothing more than a twitching, babbling wreck.

Another sharp tug on your hair made you cry out, his claws digging deep into your waist. He was always so mean when he fucked you like this, so cruel. You knew if you didn’t apologize properly, he’d break you completely—fuck you until you passed out, just to prove a point. It only made your cunt clench even more tightly around his cocks at the thought.

When he changed his pace, slowing just enough to make you feel every thick vein, every ridge, your forehead dropped against the cool floor. You drooled messily onto it, shuddering, your pupils practically heart-shaped at the change in pace. He pulled out almost completely, leaving just the fat, leaking heads stretching your entrance, before driving all the way in again, burying himself to the base, grinding deep. The pressure against your cervix made your breath hitch, made your walls squeeze around him in helpless spasms. His tail still kept your hips up, ass high in the air, forcing you to take everything he gave you.

“‘M-‘m sorry! I-I won’t—f-fuck—do it again!” you sobbed, voice breaking into little hiccupping cries. Another deep, merciless grind had you gasping, his cocks stretching you so wide it felt like they were reshaping your insides. “I-I’ll be g-good!”

At your pathetic little plea, Leviathan’s cocks throbbed, the tight heat of your desperate little cunt making him groan. He leaned forward, pressing his sweaty, overheated chest against your back, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as his long fingers abandoned your hair in favor to sliding down—

Oh.

Oh.

A keening whimper tore from your throat as his thumb pressed down, circling your swollen, aching bud in tight, merciless motions. Your cunt instantly clamped down, gripping him in a desperate, needy vice. Fuck—fuck—just that and the slow, deliberate grind of his hips had you teetering on the edge.

“I-I can feel you tightening up,” Levi panted, his breath hot against your ear. His normally pale cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, his sunset-colored eyes glowing orange with predatory hunger. His thumb pressed down harder, faster, dragging you toward the inevitable. “Gonna make a mess on my cocks again, huh?”

Your toes curled. Your eyes rolled. You tried to rock back against him, to get him to pound you again, but his tail kept you trapped. You whined, needy, desperate.

“L-Levi! M-more—ahn!—I n-need more!”

The groan he let out was pure filth, low and breathless. His breath tickled your ear as he dragged his tongue along the shell before pulling back again. You whimpered when his fingers left your clit, but before you could protest, his hands clamped around your waist and—

He slammed into you.

“You were just whining that it was too much, and now you want more?” Leviathan panted, voice rough. “I-I guess—s-shit—I shouldn’t expect anything less from a cock-hungry little slut like you.”

His heavy balls slammed against your clit again, the wet plap! plap! echoing through the room, so obscene you would’ve blushed if you had a single thought left in your fucked-out brain. The sound of your sloppy cunt sucking him in, taking both of his cocks to the root, was filthy. It only made you get wetter, made your slick drip down your thighs, messy and wanton.

One of his hands released your waist and snaked up—

Around your throat.

Your high-pitched squeal turned into something closer to a gargled sob as his grip tightened just enough, the pressure sending you careening straight over the edge. Your body trembled violently, your walls spasming around his cocks, milking them greedily as you gushed, slick dripping down your trembling thigh. Your mind blanked, drowned in white-hot euphoria. You weren’t even sure what you were saying anymore, just slurred, broken babbles of his name.

Leviathan let out a guttural moan, his grip tightening as he slammed into you one last time—twice—before burying himself deep and cumming.

Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your already abused cunt, making you tremble as the heat pooled inside you. He didn’t stop, didn’t pull out—just rocked his hips lazily, fucking his seed even deeper, filling you until you overflowed.

You barely twitched when his tail gently flipped you onto your back, legs spread, his cum already beginning to leak from your wrecked cunt. You expected him to be back to his awkward, flustered self—to stammer out apologies for being so rough, to blush and look away like he always did.

But your breath hitched when you looked up at him.

He was still in his demon form, his tail flicking idly, those glowing sunset eyes fixed on you like prey. His cocks—still hard—were glistening with his own release, drooling more thick strands onto your already ruined entrance.

Fuck.

“I thought we were done. I already apologized,” you murmured, voice shaky—though your traitorous thighs spread wider in silent invitation. Your twitchy, leaking cunt clenched around nothing, desperate for him to fill it again.

Leviathan’s lips curled, his tail coiling possessively around your waist. He took both of his cocks in one hand and—

Pap! Pap! Pap!

He slapped your soaked, needy cunt with the heavy, leaking heads, making you jolt, slick spilling even more in anticipation.

“It wasn’t good enough,” he murmured, voice dangerously low. “You need to give me a better apology.”

Leviathan was definitely going to fuck you unconscious.

The empty basket in your hands does not keep your mind from thinking. You have a weird feeling in your chest and it will not stop no matter what you do. You only hope that nothing has happened while you were gone.

Your friend is fine. With the herbs you just delivered, she will be back to normal in no time! But you already had a weird feeling when you kneeled next to her.

There is your kelku, the home you have been living in for years. But the negative feeling comes from there. Should you go in? Maybe you will just see something what makes your heart break a little more.

You sigh and push the flap aside, hoping to find your family eating dinner.

But no, there are no children. There are just Jake and Neytiri, sitting on the ground. The atmosphere is tense around the three of you.

„Jake…Neytiri.“ you greet softly and put the basket on the ground. Out of instinct, you pull the woven shawl tighter around you. Maybe because you hope it can protect you from whatever conversation will be happening. „Where are the children?“

“Why did you not tell me how you were feeling? Why did you not tell us how we have been treating you?“ Neytiri never liked to beat around the bush. No, she would rather talk directly about the fact that they have been neglecting their mate and said mate did not say anything about it.

„I do now understand, Neytiri. Answer me please, where are the children?“ Oh, you know exactly what they are talking about. And they can see it in your face, you just do not want to answer the question.

„They’re at Mo‘at‘s. Now answer us.“ Jake‘s voice is grave and filled with anger. Not anger towards you, never you, but at himself. How could he let it get this far?

„Again, I do not know what you want to hear.“ you try to sound confident but it comes out rather as if you are trying to run from their questions.

„Ma yawne do not lie to us! We have neglected you, have acted as if you are nothing more than a friend or a guest in your own home! We did not even know about your separate nivi!“ Neytiri‘s voice raises in sadness. The words are bitter on her tongue but they are truthful. The truth is always bitter.

„How do you know about that?“ that got your attention. And based on Jake and Neytiri‘s expressions, they do not know for long. Who told them? Was it Tuk?

„Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you didn’t say a word! You have been suffering in silence for Eywa knows how long and didn’t say a word. And hell, we didn’t notice either. Tuk made us see it!“ Jake is pacing while shouting and you know you can not escape this conversation or situation.

Instead of saying anything, you lower your head and look down at the ground in front of you. Then you sigh and decide that apologizing might be the easiest way out of this. „I apologize. I thought you would notice and eventually stop but you did not and then it just became…habit. Again, forgive me for not saying anything.“ your voice is calm but your mind definitely is not. You are so exhausted.

„Why are you apologizing?! Baby please listen instead of apologizing!“ the nickname feels strange on Jake‘s tongue. How long has it been since he called you anything but your name?

You sigh and look up, and let out a startled gasp because suddenly, he is in front of you. Before you can react, he has already taken your hands into his. Jake‘s hands are warm, yours are cold. They always are cold.

„Baby let me apologize. I‘ve been a terrible husband. God, neglecting your wife is the worst thing you can do in a marriage! I’ve spent so much time with the children and duties that I was glad to have some alone time with Neytiri and I completely forgot about you! I’m so sorry baby please forgive me!“ the emotion in his voice makes you tremble. Jake has always been emotional with you and Neytiri, just never in front of the kids.

„Jake stop-“ you get stopped by a hand on your arm. It is Neytiri who is looking at you with so much sorrow and so much sadness in her big yellow eyes. You used to spend hours looking into those eyes, but not anymore.

„No, ma yawne. We promised you forever and told you we can not live without at our side, and we have done so anyway. Without us even noticing..“ Neytiri breaks into a sob. She is suddenly reminded how she misses you at her side during flying, hunting, weaving. Those are all things you two have done together, and now you do it alone.

All three of you can vividly remember the night Jake and Neytiri asked you to meet them in their kelku. For no particular reason, you wore your favorite loincloth and your prettiest necklace acting as a chest garment. You even rebraided your hair twice because you were so nervous. They confessed rather clumsily. First Neytiri, then Jake. But both of them wanted you at their side forever. They promised you you would never be alone anymore.

Believing them, you held your kuru to each of theirs and made tsaheylu. You felt everything in that moment, and from that moment on you were their wife. How could things have ended up like this?

„Say something baby. Please..“ Jake is desperate not to lose you. A mating bond is forever, but that does not mean he is willing to lose you emotionally.

Now that you look at them like that, they seem equally desperate to make you happy again. With a sigh, you take a deep breath.

„You have both hurt me immensely. You stopped reaching out to me, stopped asking me to come with you. And whenever I asked one of you to come with me, you would brush me off.“ you make a pause and take in their expressions. Neytiri is losing hope and is probably praying to the Great Mother that she is not losing you tonight. Jake looks as if he is about to throw up from the truth in your words. „But I still love you both so much. I could not bring myself to leave you, emotionally or physically. I forgive you both for all the things you have done. But you must promise me that it will never happen again. Promise me..“ your voice cracks. Tears are running down your cheeks and you can not wipe them because Jake is holding your hands too tightly.

Suddenly, you do not need to wipe your tears anymore because Jake is cupping your face and already did it for you. He leans down and gives you a kiss on the forehead.

„We will never do that again, you hear me? Never in my entire damn life will I forget you again.“ Jake is determined not to let it happen again. Because if it does, he will haul himself off a cliff and drop dead. You do not deserve to be treated like an afterthought.

Neytiri is smiling for the first time since she had the realization that they are terrible mates to you. She takes your palm and presses kisses to it while mumbling praise and thanks to Eywa, and to you.

While you are distracted, you are picked up by Jake. You shriek. „Jake! What are you doing?“ you obviously try to push against him but he is simply stronger than you. So you protest without success.

„Making my wife feel loved again.“ he carries you to the giant nivi. There could be easily fit four people in. First he lays you inside, then he climbs inside himself.

He rests his back against the nivi, with you on his chest listening to his heartbeat. Your exhaustion and sleepiness seems to make itself known.

Neytiri climbs in from the other side, was to curl against your back. Her hand is rubbing circles on your waist, calming you instantly. „Oel ngati kameie(I See You).“ she whispers into your ear and you can not help but smile. How long has your heart longed to hear those words again?

You were aware he'd be inexperienced, the way he always shut himself out from the opportunities to meet people and get closer to them. In a way, you understand the need to hide oneself so nobody can hurt you. Or maybe so that you can't hurt yourself, by being a disappointment and failure. Whatever it is, you're just glad you got Herman to trust you enough to be vulnerable with each other.

He seems tense and the opposite of calm right now, with you straddled on his lap and your thighs bracketing his. Earlier, you'd zipped down his suit all the way, though he insisted on keeping it on. Now he lays half naked with his chest and torso bare beneath you, while your palms caress over his pale and freckled skin to soothe his nerves. You feel a bit naked compared to him, your own clothes thrown away somewhere, leaving you only in your bra and panties.

"Relax for once, we can take it as slow as you need." you try to assure him, but it does only a little to quiet his frightened mind. His chest gently heavies under your palms with each deep breath he takes and his eyes, partially hidden beneath his fogged up googles stare into yours, wide and unsure. "I-I...yeah, slow. Slow is good." he response quietly, his voice a bit shaky but otherwise contend. Even in his nervous state, he appears to be thrilled at having you on top of him.

"You- you should know-" he was about to trail off before a hesitant grind of your hips on top of him made him gasp in overwhelming pleasure. You can feel the bulge pressing against your clothed pussy and you really need that friction by how turned on you are. "Sorry, Hermy. But you're not the only one who's horny." you excuse yourself with a grin on your face, your own cheeks matching his red ones.

You move your hips in slow and gentle grinding on top of him, rubbing yourself over his bulge eagerly. The fabric of your panties cling to your folds, from the wetness that's caused by your arousal. And Herman can feel that too, his cock throbs in response under his suit.

"Wait- You don't get it-" his hands, until now so hesitant to even touch you the slightest, reach out to grip you by your waist. Not really stopping you but also not encouraging you, just to hold onto you for dear life. Before you can tease him further, his grip on your waist tightens and his own hips grind upwards to meet yours. "Close- I'm so close, I'm sorry!" he whines with shame, at the same time his hips never falters and neither does yours.

"It's okay, I don't mind." you assure him with a breathless voice, while holding onto his chest with your palms sprawled out over his skin and matching the rhythm of his hips.

"Come on, let go already..." you mumble towards him with want, and that's what makes him explode. His wet hands, wetter than usual due to your activity, grip strongly on your waist, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he ruts his stuttering hips against you like a man possessed. The googles on his face are fogged up completely, and while he seems to spill himself into his boxers (and herosuit), you reach out to pull them off his head. His half lidded and dazed eyes meeting yours.

"Oh yeah, that was- that was so good." he falls limp onto the waterproof-plastic wrapped bed, his chest rising and falling to catch his breath. You stare at him with a soft grin on your face, amusingly taking in his flushed cheeks and goofy grin on his lips.

"Easy for you to say, I didn't reach my orgasm." at those words, his grin slowly fades away. His gaze turning into guilt. "Sorry...I didn't mean to- I'm sorry, I-" he tries to explain himself, but you stop him with a gentle press of your lips against his, not even giving him a chance to spill his insecure thoughts out loud. "I wasn't trying to make you fell guilty, hermy." you assure him with a gentle whisper against his lips, before pressing another lovely kiss on the corner of his mouth.

His hands on your waist relax and brush down to your thighs, giving a gentle squeeze of affection. At your soothing words, his eyes flutter closed and his tense eyebrows relax.