#recom quaritch x reader

[makoodles]

ミdaddy issues

part one | part two

🍓pairing: recom!miles quaritch x human fem reader

🍓tags: nsfw, interspecies relationship, temporarily one-sided attraction, second-hand embarrassment, vaginal sex, oral sex, (v brief) anal fingering, dirty talk (it's quaritch, come on)

🍓word count: 14k (there's literally nothing i could say to excuse this)

masterlist

Miles Quaritch is the kind of man whose reputation precedes him.

Everyone has heard of him. His ruthlessness and his skill are legendary, his authority absolute. The army guys talk about him like he’s the stuff of myth, the scientists talk about him like he’s the biggest bastard to ever walk the earth. Even before he had returned to life as a recombinant, he was positively infamous. Now though, his return has raised his reputation to near mythological status.

But it’s not just his name and reputation that is known around Bridgehead City. Recently, your crush on him has become equally as infamous.

It’s not your fault. It's not like you’re trying to make it obvious. The man is just so damn fine, blue or not. In the beginning, all you do is appreciate his form from a distance. It’s not like you see him all that often, anyway, so your admiration is mostly contained to quick glances in corridors and across the mess hall, whenever you spot him talking with his squad or walking with any of the higher ups.

 It’s perfectly innocent! There’s nothing wrong with having a little crush on someone that will never notice you, after all.

The problem is that your crush, while innocuous, isn’t exactly subtle.

“Quaritch, huh?” It’s Anjali that asks, an older, pretty microbiologist with a sometimes off-puttingly blunt manner.

You pause, but don’t look up from the microscope you’ve been peering into. For a moment, you consider denying it. But what’s the point? If she’s asking, that means that she’s already noticed your shy, flustered glances in the colonel’s direction.

“Yeah,” You sigh, a little defeated. “I guess.”

Because you’re so focused on the plant specimen you’re studying, you don’t notice the way all the others in the lab start looking over, clearly eavesdropping. If you had, you might have backtracked – maybe you would have downplayed your embarrassing little crush.

“He’s just...” You fiddle with the glass slide beneath the lens, still fighting not to make eye-contact with Anjali. “He’s very handsome, isn’t he?”

Anjali snorts. She’s an older lady, with her grey-streaked hair scraped back into a severe bun, accentuating her harsh appearance. She’s working on her own report one desk over from you, but you can still see the way that she’s peering over her glasses at you.

“Is he?” She asks archly. “I wouldn’t know. I can’t see around his enormous sense of entitlement.”

You laugh a little awkwardly, and duck your head back down. God, you don’t know how else you expected that conversation to go. Everyone knows that Quaritch’s overzealous attempts to exert control over Pandora was what caused the whole war and resulted in the human population being forced off-planet all those years ago. Damn, you know that too! 

But it’s not as though you like him as a person or anything! He’s not even really the same man as the one that did all that. Your fascination with him is really just… aesthetic appreciation.

“I just think he’s attractive, you know?” You mumble, embarrassed. “I don’t know what he was like as a human, but… I don’t know. There’s something about the- the height, and the muscles-”

“Oh, spare me.” Anjali mumbles sourly.

“You asked!” You snap, mortified. “I’m just saying-!”

That’s when another voice cuts in.

“He could break you in half with his pinkie finger.” Dr. Geiszler points out from a desk behind you. He’s not even trying to pretend that he’s not listening in, leaning right over his workspace as he eavesdrops.

Your eyes widen a little, and for the first time you realise that nearly everyone else in the laboratory has been listening in the whole time. Your face grows hot with humiliation, and you shrink a little in your stool. Oh fuck, why did they all look so interested? 

Geiszler watches your reaction, and then his face slackens in an expression of realisation. “Oh shit, you’re into that.”

You genuinely can’t think of anything more humiliating right now. They’re all looking at you as though you’ve just grown an additional head.

“Oh, fuck off!” You say reflexively, scowling at them all. “You can’t pretend like you haven’t ever thought that the Na’vi are sexy!”

Anjali looks as though she’s just sucked on a lemon, but several other scientists start shiftily avoiding eye contact.

Geiszler just snorts. “That’s different. We’re not talking about just any Na’vi here, we’re talking about Quaritch!”

“He’s old enough to be your father.” Anjali points out, clearly disapproving. “Maybe even your grandfather.”

“So?” You say without thinking, before realising that this isn’t really an argument that you want to get into. “I mean- Not in his current body! No, fuck, I don’t mean- fuck. Look, can we just forget about this? Pretend I never said anything!”

Mercifully, they go silent at that, though you can still hear the faint sound of someone snickering in the back of the lab. They may not say anything more, but you’re all too aware that they’re still looking at each other and smirking. Laughing at you. 

You hunch your shoulders and keep doing your work. You wouldn’t feel embarrassed or guilty over something as stupid as a harmless little crush that you can’t control. You wouldn’t.

Bridgehead really isn’t all that big, so you see the colonel semi-regularly. It’s always from a distance, but it’s still enough to give you a good look at those long legs, those big muscles, and that lithe, narrow waist. If you’re truthful with yourself, you go out of your way to organise your paths crossing.

You’re not even a fully-qualified scientist just yet. You don’t actually have an official title – you’re more like an intern. You work under the highly decorated scholars in xenobotany, running tasks and projects for them as part of your doctorate degree. You had been allowed out here to Pandora as part of your degree, in order to get the experience you needed to qualify, and it has treated you well so far. The whole internship position means that you have a little bit more freedom with regards your schedule, which works just perfectly for you.

So, yeah. What started out as innocent admiration has turned a little… stalkery. You’re willing to admit that. But it’s harmless! 

So what if you know Colonel Quaritch’s schedule off by heart? So what if you linger around the areas that you know he frequents at opportune moments, like just after his workouts or drills? It doesn’t really matter if your eyes linger around his big biceps and his sculpted chest, especially when his deep blue skin is all heat-flushed and sweaty, right? And it surely doesn’t matter if you wander past the Recombinant areas of the base far more frequently than you need to, right? It’s not as if anyone is going to notice.

It doesn’t really matter how much you stare, because the colonel is utterly oblivious to your attention. He never notices you, not even once. And that’s fine too, you tell yourself. It makes it easier, in fact! You can admire him all you want if he never looks at you, after all.

It gets a little bit more challenging to hide where your attention is straying when other people start to figure it out.

It’s like your little crush is an inside joke in the science department. The scientists on base tend to be pretty good at minding their own business (mostly because they’re usually so damn focused on their own work and little projects), but in this case you’ve become an endless source of amusement for them.

You can see the way the entire xenobiology department giggle together when you perk up at dinnertime as soon as the Recombinant soldiers enter the mess hall, and you know that they’re nudging each other when your attention strays to the Colonel as he eats. He’s got such sharp teeth, and your eyes fixate on him as he licks the sorry excuse for food he’s been served off his canines.

When you start dressing up a little bit more, the science guys start sharing smirks. It’s a little bit humiliating, but honestly you think you’re starting to lose your sense of shame. You start wearing tight little pencil skirts and thin blouses, under the guise of professionalism, and you start to do your makeup a little bit heavier too. Quaritch never so much as bats an eyelid in your direction.

“Not that I’m complaining, per se,” Geiszler drawls one afternoon, leaning lazily against the worktop as you painstakingly organise tissue samples. “But aren’t you trying a little too hard?”

“Shut up.” You grumble, chewing on your stick lip-glossed lower lip. “It’s just a skirt.”

“Right.” He drawls, eyes trailing down over the length of your body as you shift on your uncomfortable little stool. “And the makeup?”

“It’s not breaking any uniform protocols.” You say simply, scratching just under your eye. 

Geiszler sniffs, amused. “Is it true you’ve been following around the xenobiologists when they go to check on the recoms?”

You peer very closely at the tissue sample in your hands, a little more closely than entirely necessary. “Maybe.”

“Jesus.” He lets out a short, disbelieving sort of laugh. “Fuck. Why? D’you get off on being ignored or something?”

That’s a little crass, and you raise your head to scowl at him. He really doesn’t need to rub it in like that – it’s pretty damn obvious that your crush is unrequited. It’s cruel to point it out like that. 

“It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t notice,” You mutter, aggravated. “I’m just- I just like looking, that’s all.”

Geiszler snorts again, but he appears to be somewhat sympathetic now. “Right. Just looking.”

Finally, you tear your attention away from the samples so you can scowl at him. “What do you want, Dr. Geiszler?”

“I want to put you out of your misery.” He replies simply, leaving his elbows against the worktop and smirking at you. “Recoms are being sent out tomorrow. Just a small run – Ardmore wants to put those new bodies to the test before she sends them out after Sully.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You ask as though you’re not hanging onto every damn word.

“They’re heading to the lowlands, at the base of the mountains,” Geiszler levels you with a significant look. “You know what that means, right?”

You perk up instantly at that, your eyes growing wide.

“Panopyra.” You breathe.

Your entire damn doctoral dissertation is centred around the unusual, jellyfish-like plants that grow on other Pandoran plants. It hovers somewhere between plant, animal, and fungi, having evolved a primitive sort of nervous system. It grows a cuplike body that collects water from dew and fog and condenses it down into a thick, syrupy sort of liquid. That liquid is then collected by the native Na’vi for use in their healing drinks. It is that medicinal property that fascinates you so much.

“Yeah, I thought that might get your attention.” Geiszler grins. “You’ve run out of the samples you’ve been using, right? You’re not gonna be able to write any more of your thesis without more specimens.”

“Yes,” You breathe, your brain already scrambling to think of all the things you need to do. “I need- oh, I need some cuttings of the sensory tissue, and I need a lot more samples of the internal liquid. The stems, too-”

“Right, right,” Geiszler interrupts, nodding. “The problem is, it’s just the Recoms being sent out. They’re not bringing any of the science team.”

Your shoulders sag a little at that. How are you meant to get a proper sample if there’s no one qualified to take samples going on their reconnaissance trip?

As if he knows exactly what you’re thinking, Geiszler’s smile turns a little sly. “If you want those samples, you’re gonna have to ask the big man in charge of the mission to bring some back for you. And you’re gonna have to ask real nicely.”

Colonel Quaritch’s office is empty when you call at it, and so you’re forced to go searching for him.

You find the recoms in the little recreation room just off the hangar designated for soldier use – Na’vi-sized beanbags had been thrown into it as an afterthought for the recom soldiers, and it’s almost comical to walk in and find so many of them sprawled across the squishy chairs. Some of them have instead decided to squeeze them into the regular armchairs, with one Na’vi-sized body occupying an entire sofa. They’re playing poker of all things; they’ve been provided with a set of over-sized playing cards and everything.

They’re a rowdy bunch, shouting and roaring with laughter, and so they don’t immediately spot you when you edge your way into the room. For a moment, you think that the colonel isn’t here. But then you take another look, and you spot him. 

Quaritch is standing to the side, his spine taut and his shoulders back and straight. It’s a very formal position just for watching his squad relax, but there’s a certain softness to his expression as he watches them that you’ve never seen from him before. Your heart skips a beat; this is the most unguarded that you’ve ever seen him, and your eyes fixate on his face eagerly as you try to drink in all the details.

It’s Fike that notices you first.

“Aw, man,” He groans, tilting his head back dramatically before gesturing at you with his cards. “Not another checkup. We told the other doc, if something feels wrong we’ll tell you-”

“Ah, no.” You’re beginning to get flustered. Fike’s exclamation has drawn the attention of the other recoms, and all of a sudden you feel as though you’ve been placed under a spotlight. “I’m- I’m not actually a doctor!”

There’s a very brief pause, and then one of the female soldiers sits up from her beanbag to squint at you. You think this one is Walker.

“Why are you here all the time, then?” She asks. “Weren’t you here for our checkup yesterday?”

Oh. They had noticed. Embarrassed heat is beginning to build in your cheeks, and you can’t help but dart a quick look over at where Quaritch is still leaning against the wall. For the first time ever, he’s looking right at you. The realisation sends little jolts of electricity racing up your spine. His expression is entirely neutral, almost bored, but that doesn’t matter. He’s seeing you.

“I was just, um, shadowing the xenobiologists,” You say quickly, “For my internship.”

One of the other recoms turns to another and mouths 'internship’, and they both start to snicker. You pretend not to notice.

“And what does the intern want with us?” Fike asks, already having turned back to his cards.

It’s terribly embarrassing having to stand here and have these 9-foot-tall soldiers basically look you up and down before disregarding your entire existence. But you’re here now, and you have to push through.

“I’d..” You begin, before your throat goes dry and you have to clear your throat before trying again. “Could I please speak to the colonel?”

All the snickering and whispering dies down for a moment as the recoms look at you before swinging their heads around to look at their superior officer. There’s a moment of silence, but then the subtle sniggers start right back up again.

“So polite,” one of them whispers, and you feel yourself burn with embarrassment. But it doesn’t matter how many of them are sharing smirks or whispers, because Colonel Quaritch has pushed himself off the wall and is beginning to step towards you.

Oh god, he’s so big. You have to actually tilt your head back just to look at his face as he comes to a stop in front of you, and you begin to fidget nervously with your fingers. Up close, he seems so much bigger. Every movement has the skin around his muscles flexing, and you have to work hard not to stare like an absolute moron. 

He doesn’t crouch or bend down to make it easier for you to talk to him. Instead he just raises a brow, clearly waiting for you to speak.

“I, um- hello,” You start off clumsily, growing flustered under the weight of his intense, golden gaze. God, does he even realise how intimidating that is? “I was wondering if- I mean, I heard that you’re being sent out into the Pandoran lowlands tomorrow, and I was wondering if you might be able to bring me back something-”

God, you sound like such an idiot. There’s no way he doesn’t notice the way your voice trembles, or how you can’t quite meet his eyes, or how you keep stumbling over your words, but he just watches you evenly with no expression on his handsome face.

You fumble for the datapad that you brought with you, tapping clumsily at the screen before holding it up for him. His eyes dart to the photograph that’s being displayed, but he still doesn’t speak.

“This is panopyra.” You say, and your voice grows a little stronger. This, at least, is something you feel comfortable talking about. “It’s a plant that’s displaying characteristics of a new line of evolution toward a primitive nervous system. My entire dissertation is focused around my research into this plant, and I really need some samples. The body of it is hollow, and it collects a liquid inside-”

Finally, Quaritch speaks. 

“We ain’t bein’ sent out to do gardening.” His voice is deep and rumbly, edged with that Southern drawl. It has a hint of danger, even when he’s not actually threatening anything.

“I know!” You say hastily. “I know that. I just thought- I thought that maybe if you happened to see one, you might be able to take a sample of the liquid inside of it and, um… and bring it back.”

You end up trailing off a little pathetically, feeling overpowered by his intense stare. God, he looks so unimpressed with you right now. You bite your glossy lip and try not to shrink into yourself entirely.

At last, Quaritch sighs and holds out his hand. “Give me that thing.”

You hand over the datapad at once, your eyes growing wide at the possibility of him actually accepting. Asking for this favour had served the dual purpose of fulfilling your work needs and getting to talk to him, but you hadn’t actually expected him to agree.

He squints at the photograph on the screen, and swipes lazily through the mass amounts of text accompanying. “I ain’t reading all that shit. Give me the run-down on it.”

You had actually written ‘all that shit’, but no matter.

“It grows similar to a fungus, so you’ll likely find it attached to trees or other plants,” You rush to explain, excitement beginning to bubble up into your chest. “You won’t be able to take an actual sample of the tissue without damaging it, so forget about that. What I really would like is a sample of the fluid that collects inside the cup on top, see?”

His eyes follow you as you reach up on your toes to point out what you’re referring to in the photograph, and his ears flick back in acknowledgement.

“It poisonous?”

You hesitate a moment. “...No.”

Quaritch shoots you a look of obvious disbelief. “You wanna try that again?”

“It’s not poisonous.” You say, a little bit more convincingly this time. “But it does have a sort of defence system. Just… don’t touch the little tendrils.”

Quaritch’s face is set in stern disapproval, but he isn’t saying no. 

“I’ll provide you with the instruments you need,” You continue, starting to bounce a little on your toes at the prospect of him agreeing. You really need these samples. “Oh, I’d be so grateful!”

There’s a muffled sound from somewhere over your shoulder, where the rest of the recoms are no doubt watching and listening with great interest, but you don’t turn. Quaritch’s gaze flickers only momentarily towards them, and they silence instantly. God, he’s so effortlessly commanding.

When he looks back to you, he just sighs through his nose and hands you back the datapad. “Fine. Send me the details.”

For a moment, you just stare at him. It takes a beat to register that he’s just agreed, and then a wide, beaming grin begins to grow across your face.

“Thank you-!” You start to squeal, but he cuts you off with a quick wave of his hand.

“Cut that out,” He grumbles, already beginning to scowl as he steps back. “Never let it be said by Ardmore that I was unco-operative with the goddamned science department, yeah?”

You’re not willing to press your luck any further than you already have. You just nod, a little frantic, before sending him one last smile and scurrying your way out of the room. The laughter from the rec room follows you all the way up the corridor, but you don’t care – you’re getting your samples and you just had your first conversation with Quaritch. He looked at you, he spoke to you. He knows you exist!

You’re smiling to yourself the entire way back to the lab, flushed with the pleasure of your success.

For the next couple of days, you’re waiting on tenterhooks for the recoms return. 

You still work away on your projects and your research, but you’re hyper-attuned to everyone that comes and goes from the lab. It’s not as though you’re really expecting the recoms to come into the lab, but you’re listening desperately for any news of their return.

The day before they’re due to arrive back to base, Geiszler comes to irritate you at your desk.

“Go away.” You grumble before he can say a word.

“Oh, come on!” He laughs. “I come bearing gifts!”

That catches your attention, and you raise your head from your work to squint at him. He’s standing there with a stupid sort of grin on his face, the kind that makes you uneasy, and his hands are tucked behind his back.

“What?” You ask suspiciously.

With a flourish, Geiszler pulls his arms out from behind his back. When you see what’s in his hands, you nearly scream.

“Oh my god, what the fuck is wrong with you-!” You hiss, whirling around to look frantically over your shoulders.

Mercifully, there’s no one around to witness the enormous blue dildo in his hands as he offers it up to you.

Geiszler is laughing, as though this is just the funniest shit he could have imagined. “Oh, the look on your face-!”

“Get that away from me!” You hiss, scandalised. “Oh my god, you do realise that I could report you for workplace sexual harassment-”

“But you won’t, because we made this specially for you-”

“We?” You hiss in disbelief. “Who the fuck is we?”

Geiszler waves that away as though it’s unimportant. “Me and some of the other guys in xeno. Look, it gets boring in the lab. We thought this was funny. It’s a Na’vi dildo, to scale. You’re welcome.”

“You are such an asshole.” You snap, mortified. “God, what is wrong with you!”

Geiszler just snorts, and places the big dildo on your desk, right in the middle of your papers. It’s almost comically large, made with bright blue silicone and featuring a prominent, squishy head. It’s even ribbed down the underside, with bumps that admittedly look rather attractive. Your face burns at the sight of it.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to get that 3D-printed-” 

“Take it back!” You pick it up and try to push it at him, but he’s already backing away with his hands up in the air. The stupid prick is laughing at you. 

“Nu-uh! It’s all yours!” He’s already backing away, all sniggers. “You can imagine the colonel-”

“Oh, you freak! That is so invasive-!” You nearly drop the dildo entirely, both horrified and mortified. 

Oh my god, it was to scale. This was the size of what the colonel was packing? It feels as though the silicone is burning in your hand, and you feel horribly hot and prickly. Oh, this was such an invasion of the colonel’s privacy. Whether it was the standard size of a Na’vi cock or not, the idea of using it while imagining Quaritch over you has you flushed and embarrassed.

Geiszler is still laughing when he ducks out of the lab, leaving you alone and absolutely humiliated.

After that, you avoid the lab. You know that the scientists all think that your crush on Quaritch is just one big joke, and you really don’t want to see them all smirking and sniggering when they see you, and you really don’t want to have to field any sly comments about the stupid dildo. 

You’ve been too mortified to even look at it too closely, so you take it and hide it away under a load of papers in a separate work area that’s usually used as storage. You’ve been hiding away in this separate little work room for days now; you can’t do any important experiments here, but it’s as good a place as any to work on your dissertation and at least you can be alone here.

You’re in this little work area, typing furiously, when the door slides open behind you with a hiss.

“Geiszler, if you’re here just to harass me again, I will fuck you up.” You bite out without turning, your shoulders turning tense as you glare at your monitor.

There’s a moment of silence, and you hope that he’s taken the hint to go away and leave you alone.

“I’m not sure I appreciate that tone, girl.”

You turn so quickly that you nearly overbalance right off your chair, eyes wide and horrified. The workroom that you’ve practically claimed for yourself is small, with low ceilings designed for human use – that means that Quaritch has had to duck down to fit through the door, and remains standing hunched and visibly irritated, with one hand lifted against the ceiling so he doesn’t hit his head.

“Oh-!” You scramble to get off your chair and fix your skirt, tugging it down straight as you hope and pray that your hair looks alright. “Sir, I- I didn’t realise that you were back!”

Quaritch just grunts. He does not look particularly happy, but he sets a large sample container on one of the empty desk spaces. Inside, it’s filled with a clear liquid that could easily be mistaken for water, but you know better.

“Oh!” You gasp, jolting forward to take a better look. “Oh, such a big sample! This is amazing, thank you!”

Quaritch says nothing, his big alien face impossible to read.

“It better be worth it.” Another voice cuts in, and you jolt in surprise at the realisation that there’s another big blue figure ducking in through the door after Quaritch.

You pause, uncertain in the face of this newcomer and already nervous from Quaritch’s overbearing presence. Oh, god. He’s brought company. Why has he brought company? Another blue head appears over the shoulder of the first soldier, and your eyes dart between them. You’ve spent enough time watching the Colonel to recognise them as Corporal Wainfleet and Private Fike, though you don’t have so much as a passing acquaintance with them.

“I thought you said they were harmless.” Fike grumbles, before raising his hands up to show you rather brutal looking purple bruises along the backs of his hands. “Fucking look at this.”

“Oh.” You breathe, wincing. “No, I said they weren’t poisonous. I did tell you to watch out for the tendrils. The defence system is really quite amazing-”

“Oh yeah, it felt fucking amazing when it was stinging the ever-loving shit out of me.” Fike interrupts, though he appears to have lost interest in speaking to you in favour of peering curiously around the work room.

You can imagine that the place looks fairly dismal; you hadn’t been expecting visitors, so your research is scattered everywhere. Coloured sketches and photographs of cross-sections of the panopyra plant are stuck up on the walls all over, not just around your own desk. You’ve taken advantage of the desks that are never in use, piling your notes and research high all over the place. Writing your dissertation is exhausting work, after all – there is just so much to learn from these plants, so much potential.

“Well, I think that it is worth it.” You say, stepping towards the counter that Quaritch had placed your sample on and reaching eagerly for the beaker. “It’s difficult to get samples like this – there are so few excursions into the jungle these days. But one this size might actually be enough to fuel my research for the next two months at least! I might actually be able to finish my dissertation at last-”

No one is listening to you, you’re quite certain, but you don’t let that deter you as you babble away, raising the beaker to your eye level so that you can examine it. The liquid inside is pure and uncontaminated – the perfect specimen.

“Whoa,” Wainfleet is peering at the sketches on the wall. “You’re really into these weird little plants, huh?”

“They’re the whole reason I’m here on Pandora.” You say matter-of-factly, placing the beaker back down on the desk. “Everything I’m doing here, all my research, is all centred around them.”

It’s the most you’ve ever said in the presence of the recoms, and you find yourself mentally patting yourself on the back. You really are intelligent and driven, though you’re sure that the recoms would never have guessed it based on how moronically you act around Colonel Quaritch. They seem quite surprised to discover that you have actual interests other than their beefy commanding officer.

Fike and Wainfleet both poke around the work room curiously, snickering with each other as they peer blindly into microscopes and push around enormous reference books like big kids.

“Hey, careful with that!” You say reproachfully, though they pay you no mind.

Quaritch himself is still standing silently, taking in the room with alert but judgemental eyes. He doesn’t seem all that impressed by your work, but then again it’s almost impossible to read him. He makes no effort to chide his underlings at all, and they continue messing about unchecked.

“Took us a while to find you.” Quaritch speaks suddenly, and your attention is drawn to him immediately, a swoop of excitement juddering through you at the fact that he’s speaking to you. “You’re not in the lab with the rest of the science pukes.”

Your silly excitement at being on the receiving end of his attention dims a little at that. Science pukes? Seriously? You’ve worked damn hard for this degree! 

“That’s not nice.” You say, then mentally curse yourself. It’s not quite the scathing reproach you had intended – it comes out a little wobbly and uncertain. God, why do you have to come across as such a sad little wet blanket whenever you’re in front of him?

“Not nice?” Quaritch repeats, sounding partially amused and partially disbelieving. “And when have I ever been known for bein’ nice, sweetheart?”

Good lord, he’s terrifying. You don’t normally have a difficult time standing up for yourself, but something about being on the receiving end of that bright yellow stare makes your stomach twist. You don’t know if it's fear or arousal, and you also don't know which would be worse.

“I just mean-” You start, trying hard to keep your voice strong and confident. “That calling people names isn’t nice.”

Calling people names isn’t nice. Fucking hell, you sound like a goddamn five-year-old. What is even happening to you? You swear you’re not normally like this. Has your brain just rotted thanks to all the stupid ogling of his big biceps you’ve been doing? You’re mortified.

“Jesus Christ.” Wainfleet’s voice calls out from somewhere behind you. “What the fuck is this?”

For a moment, you’re desperately relieved that they’ve called attention away from you. Quaritch is looking at you with scathing disbelief for that calling people names comment, and you’re quite sure that whatever he was going to say in response to that would be so biting that you’d wish you were dead.

But then you turn to look at Wainfleet, and you actually do wish that you were dead.

Because in his hand, looking almost regular sized against his much larger body, is that stupid, evil giant blue Na’vi dildo that Geiszler had given you last week. You had stuffed it behind a whole load of old papers on an unused desk and forgotten about it – it was just your fucking luck that these gormless blue bastards would unearth it accidentally as they poked around.

Mortification erupts through your body, so overwhelming that it roots you to the spot. No way. No way. No way.

“Holy fuck!” Fike bursts out laughing, and holds his hands up. “Give that here!”

Nothing can describe the sheer humiliation that sears through you when Wainfleet tosses the dildo to Fike. You just stand there frozen, watching the two enormous Na’vi soldiers throw a huge silicone dick between them in the middle of your workspace.

“Damn, the little intern’s a freak!” Fike says in mock approval, his voice dripping in amusement. 

He makes a show of holding the dildo up to the light and peering at it, faux-admiring the bumps and ridges along the shaft.

“No, that’s not-” You start, and your voice cracks. “That’s not mine-”

You go entirely ignored as the two soldiers roar boisterously.

“Damn, you think of the Colonel when you use this?” Wainfleet asks, cackling as Fike throws it back to him. “Is this why you follow him around everywhere? You want the real thing?”

The humiliation is so intense that it’s actually difficult to breathe around it, stifling and choking. You glance at Quaritch, hoping that by some miracle he’s gone temporarily blind and deaf and has missed this entire exchange so far. The idea of him knowing that you’ve been following him around is shocking, and you feel yourself shrinking.

Quaritch has just pressed his lips together. As you watch, he gives a deep sigh through his nose. 

Your stomach quivers with mortification. Oh my god. He knew already – how long has he been aware of your crush?

“No,” You choke out, your skin burning hot. “No, I don’t- I don’t use that, it was given to me as a joke-”

Quaritch is still so difficult to read, but even still he looks as though he would rather be literally anywhere else right now. His gaze flickers briefly over your face, which is all contorted in mortification as you just barely bite back tears, and he rolls his eyes with a sigh.

“Alright, that’s enough-” Quaritch starts, but it’s too late.

Wainfleet has just reached out and smacked Fike around the head with the dildo, laughing as he did so, and Fike stumbles back with a playful roar as he tries to escape the silicone cock. He throws his arms out to catch his balance, but his big hands splay across one of the work tables and knock some of your reference books to the floor.

But it’s not just the books he knocks into. His hand smacks into that precious beaker full of panopyra liquid, and you let out a startled shout as the force of the blow of his hand breaks the glass container, the liquid inside showering all over the desk with all your papers.

Everyone goes silent, as though the sound of breaking glass signals some kind of change in the atmosphere. 

You let out a sound that’s positively wounded, jerking forward to the destroyed sample. You needed this specimen so badly – it was supposed to inform the research that you needed to finish your dissertation. How long would you have to wait for another sample like this one? You’ve been working on this research for years, and you were so damn close to the end. So damn close to being qualified, to stepping up the ladder and being taken seriously by your peers rather than just being seen as an intern.

“Shit.” One of the recoms mutter; you don’t bother looking up to see if it’s Wainfleet or Fike. “Didn’t mean to-”

Your eyes trace over the mess of broken glass, but then you realise what the sample has broken on and you feel your stomach drop to your feet.

“No!” You shriek, launching yourself forward. 

The recoms all jerk in surprise at your shout, but you pay them no mind. It’s like they’re invisible to you now. All you can see is the way that your papers, your precious research, is being soaked through and destroyed by the liquid that has spilled all over the desk.

“No, no, no, no.” You breathe to yourself, biting hard at the inside of your cheek to keep from crying as you struggle to pick up your research, shaking it out in an attempt to get the worst of the wetness off.

It’s too late. Your research, all your painstakingly-taken hand-written notes, tears like wet tissue-paper in your hands.

You raise your head to look at the three recoms in your workspace, still clutching your destroyed research to your chest. You must look crazed, breathing heavily with wide and wild eyes, because Wainfleet and Fike share a wincing look with each other.

Awkwardly, Wainfleet reaches out and places the large dildo on the counter next to the ruins of your work. Everyone in the room struggles not to look at it.

Quaritch’s jaw is clenched hard, his ears pinned back against the sides of his head. He appears to be holding himself back from shouting, though you’re not sure at who. Slowly, he turns his head to look at his two subordinates, who are now standing with their heads ducked as they try not to make eye contact.

With trembling hands, you drop your ruined research back down on the counter. Your mortification is swiftly being overtaken by pure rage. 

How fucking dare they? It would be one thing for them to mock you about your crush (that apparently Quaritch was already fucking aware of) but it’s entirely another for them to humiliate you by parading around with that stupid fucking dildo that you’ve never even properly touched. And then to go and destroy your sample, the one that you’ve waited so long for and that you needed so desperately for your dissertation? And to destroy a chunk of your existing research too?

“Get out.” You whisper, your fingers shaking as you pluck at the ruins of your papers.

Quaritch sighs through his nose. “Look, we’ll get you another sample of the damn thing. There’s no need to-”

“Get out!” You raise your voice for real, whipping your head up to shout at them. “God, you assholes! Get out!”

Fike laughs nervously, glancing towards Quaritch. That only sets you off even more. They have the audacity to follow their commanding officer into your workspace and mess around, ruining things, and now they’re not going to listen to you after destroying your work? God, they look down on you so much it’s sickening. They’re not even listening to you after humiliating you so soundly, choosing instead to look towards Quaritch as if his opinion matters so much more than yours.

Your rage is only fuelled by your earlier embarrassment, your face flushed with heat as you glare at them. Oh, you’re furious. You can’t remember ever being so humiliated and livid in your life.

“I want you fucking out!” You roar, and when they don’t move you reach for a reference book on the table beside you and launch it at them. “You’ve fucking ruined it-”

Wainfleet ducks to avoid the book that soars over his head, but you’re already reaching for another one. He throws his hands up in a gesture of surrender, but you’re so blinded by rage that you barely even see it.

“Oi!” Quaritch lets out a shout and steps forward with his hands outstretched as if to physically stop you. “Enough! You’ll be written up for assault if you keep this up-”

You let out an inarticulate noise of fury as you throw a second book, this one bouncing harmlessly off Fike’s shoulder. “I’ll be written up for murder if you don’t get the fuck out of here-”

Wainfleet lets out a sound that sounds like a nervous giggle that’s been choked back. You can imagine that it’s a little bit of a shock for them to see you go from shy and mild-mannered to absolutely fucking insane, but your crush on Quaritch really had made you act like a total idiot around them. You feel so stupid about it now – you had become so enamoured with someone who totally ignored your existence, shrinking into yourself like a goddamn wallflower because you were so shy around him.

But Quaritch is looking at you, for possibly one of the first times ever. Not just looking at you, but seeing you. 

When you grab at a microscope to throw, heavy and metal and definitely capable of doing some damage, Quaritch lets out a sharp hiss and steps forward with a single hand outstretched towards you as though to physically restrain you.

“Get out.” He says without looking at his soldiers.

Wainfleet and Fike share a look with each other before practically scrambling to leave. They can’t seem to leave fast enough, though you have no doubt that they’re snickering together as they go. 

“You too.” You grit out, fists clenched around the microscope as though it’s a weapon. “I want you gone too.”

Despite your obvious anger, Quaritch makes no move to leave. His big honey-coloured eyes trace over the broken glass on your desk, your ruined research, your big teary eyes. You probably look like a mess; you’re practically sweating from all the embarrassment, your hair is in disarray, your eyes are all swollen from the angry tears that are threatening to spill over.

“You need to calm down, darlin’.” He says, his voice low and a little bit rumbly. Ordinarily that might make you melt, but as it is you just feel as though he’s being condescending. “It’s just some goddamn plant water. You’ll get more on the next run.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You snap without thinking, your chest still heaving with poorly stifled emotion. “It’s not just about the sample and you know it.”

Quaritch’s golden eyes cut towards the big dildo on the counter, and you feel your temper flare all over again.

“It’s not about that either!” You snap, embarrassed and defensive. “This research is my life! Without it, there’s no point to me even being here on Pandora. Your fucking knuckleheads have just destroyed months worth of work. Do you have any idea how much harder I have to work than the fucking men out there?”

You gesture towards the door to the main laboratory, where you’re sure they’ve walked past all the overwhelmingly male scientists working away. No doubt they can hear the shouting, but no one has been brave enough to come looking to see what’s wrong. 

Quaritch’s expression doesn’t so much as twitch as he watches you rage, and he doesn’t interrupt.

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is just to claw my way up to equal standing with them? They laugh at me enough already, that’s why they gave me that stupid thing-” You wave at the dildo without looking at it. “Just because they knew that I liked you. They laugh at me for having a stupid crush on you, and I… I’m so sick of people looking at me like I’m just pathetic, because I work so hard! And now you’re here, and you’ve just ruined my work-”

Quaritch lets you rant until you run yourself dry. You’re breathing heavily, exhausted and furious and so fucking sick of the sight of him.

“Look, kid.” He says at last, when you pause for breath. “You’re sweet. Pretty. Smart, clearly. But I ain’t looking for anything like that. I need to focus on this mission-”

“Oh, what the fuck.” You breathe, staring at him in total disbelief. “Is that the only part you fucking heard? I have a crush on you, that’s it! All I wanted was for you to look my way, and it took a giant fucking dildo for you to actually acknowledge that you knew about how I felt? You’re such a dick-”

“Hey,” He barks, stepping forward. He’s so huge, his bulk alone throwing you into shadow as he looms over you. “Watch your mouth-”

“No!” You snap, although your voice is a little thin. He really is an intimidating bastard. “No, you don’t get to tell me what to do! God, I am so sick of men thinking they can tell me what to do-”

Quaritch’s chest erupts in a little rumbling snarl, and you have to fight not to flinch away from him. He’s like a beast, lip all curled up over his fangs as he growls at you for your attitude.

“So what, your solution is to hide away in this miserable little room?” He demands, stepping forward just so he can look down his nose at you. “Some of those dickless little science guys were mean to you, so you’re gonna lock yourself away like this?”

“It’s not-”

“What’s the point in dressing up all pretty in those little skirts with all that makeup if you’re hiding away in here, huh?” He continues, insistent as he keeps pushing forward until you start to back up. “Maybe that’s why they don’t take you seriously. You need to stand up for-”

“That’s for you!” You shout, temper flaring up all over again. “I do that for you, because I thought you might look at me!”

Quaritch pauses at that, blinking as though you’ve just taken him by surprise. It infuriates you; how could he be so stupid, especially when he has known about your crush all this time. It’s not like it was subtle.

Suddenly, you feel absolutely exhausted. It’s like every ounce of your energy has been leached out of you, and you turn your head and sigh. The amount of emotions that have washed through you in such a short space of time has left you feeling drained and drawn, and you just want to be left alone now.

“I don’t want to look at you anymore.” You say tiredly, turning away from him and burying your face in your hands. “Just get out. Go away.”

There’s a long pause, but mercifully Quaritch doesn’t try to argue any further. You’re still turned away and facing the wall, so you hardly hear his quiet footsteps as he turns on his heel and marches out of the room. The door whooshes closed behind him, leaving you alone and hunched in the middle of the room.

In hindsight, you may have overreacted with the recoms a little bit. 

You had been careful to back up some of the most important points of your research to your hard drive, so you hadn’t truly lost as much information as you had initially feared. It’s more of an inconvenience than a tragedy, really. The loss of the sample does sting quite a bit, but you’ll get more. It just might take another couple of months – the wait is frustrating, but there’s nothing you can do about that.

All you can do is try to recoup some of the notes that you’ve lost, and struggle to write more based on the samples that you’ve already studied. It’s very difficult to come up with any new material when you don’t actually have anything to work with, but all you can do is your best, as usual.

Geiszler creeps into the small workroom a few days later. 

For several days after the incident with the recoms, none of your colleagues have dared to say a word to you. You’re sure they had heard the shouting, the glass shattering, the sound of you throwing books. If they had somehow missed all that, then they surely would have noticed the recoms that had stalked from the workroom, all agitated and pent up from the argument. Yet none of them have even asked you if you were okay.

“Still avoiding us, huh?” Geiszler asks, his question accompanied with a nervous laugh.

“Fuck off.” You bite out without looking away from your computer screen.

“Ouch.” Geiszler mutters. “I suppose I might deserve that.”

You can hear him approaching, but you still refuse to turn around. You just keep stubbornly working away, acting as though you’re too busy to spare him any attention. Unfortunately, Geiszler doesn’t let your inattention sway him; he just settles in a stool nearby, fidgeting with his fingers.

“I, uh… heard about that little blow up you had with the Colonel.” He says, clearly a little awkward. “I wanted to apologise. Upon reflection, the, uh… the dildo thing might have been a little inappropriate.”

You fight the urge to sigh. God, what did you do to deserve being surrounded with morons like this?

“Yeah, no shit.” You mutter, finally looking up to glare at him. “Why are you here? All I want is to be left alone.”

Geiszler, to your gratification, looks positively shame-faced. He’s looking down at his hands as he twiddles his thumbs, sighing.

“Wanted to apologise, I guess.” He mutters, shrugging.

“Yeah, well, whatever.” You mutter, finally abandoning your attempts to appear busy as you turn to him. “Plenty more Na’vi on Pandora, right?”

A nervous giggle bubbles out of his chest, as though he’s not certain if he’s allowed to laugh or not.

“Yeah, yeah, right.” He says, starting to grin. “And, uh… are you.. Are you strictly Na’vi-sexual, or are you-”

You burst out laughing, turning to look at him in disbelief. “Na’vi-sexual? There’s no way you just fucking asked me that.”

There’s a bizarre sort of blush on his face, but he laughs along with you anyway. “Right, right. Well, you can’t blame me for wondering, right? With your crush, I mean.”

Your smile fades, and you look back down at your work scattered all over the desk. 

“I don’t want to talk about that, actually.” You murmur, “I think I’ve made enough of a fool of myself as is.”

Geiszler nods awkwardly, looking distinctly guilty.

“Yeah. You, um,” He breaks off, scratching uncomfortably at the back of his neck. “You look nice.”

You just raise a sardonic eyebrow at him. You’ve gone without makeup today, and you know that going bare-faced makes you look younger, but who were you kidding with all that makeup, anyway? You’ve abandoned the sleek pencil skirts and pretty blouses, too. Under your lab coat you wear a simple sort of sundress, one that stops just below the knees. No heels, either, just sneakers.

“Yeah, well.” You shrug a shoulder lazily. “No one to impress.”

Geiszler’s smile twists as he nods again. “Sure, sure. Um… look, I was wondering-”

You never do get to know what it is that Geiszler is wondering. The sound of the door to the workroom hissing open cuts him off, and he falls silent as the two of you look to see who has just encroached into your space.

The sight of Quaritch’s big blue form ducking in and then straightening up has the two of you stiffening, staring at him in disbelief. 

You’re absolutely rooted to the spot at the sight of him, but when he turns to look at you, you whirl around and immediately feign being busy. You grab blindly at papers and datapads, and peer unseeingly at your computer screen as you try to look preoccupied. What is he doing here?

Geiszler, meanwhile, doesn’t even try to pretend that he’s not gawking stupidly. 

Quaritch glances his way, and his expression drops into a sneer. “What’re you looking at? Get outta here.”

Irritatingly, Geiszler scrambles to do just that. He sends one last glance towards you before practically fleeing from the room, nervously ducking around Quaritch’s imposingly large figure.

Your eyes bulge a little now that you’re left alone with him, and your eyes dart around frantically around the room in search of something to do. Why is he here? Why the fuck has he come back? It’s been days since your embarrassing breakdown in front of him, and you’ve been blissfully unaware of him since. You’ve basically just locked yourself up in this room, working on your research. You’ve even taken meals here – it’s a much more productive use of your time than wandering around the base after Quaritch in the hopes of catching a good glimpse of his ass in his camo.

Fighting to resist the urge to look his way, you tap urgently at the datapad in your hand.

“Do you need something, Colonel?” You ask icily, your attention focused down on your pad. “I’m very busy.”

There’s a momentary silence, but you’re not willing to look up to see his expression.

“Was that one of the cockless little deadbeats that’s been giving you a hard time?”

Giving you a hard time. God, it sounds as though you’re a bullied little kid. How embarrassing.

“He’s the one that gave me the dildo.” You say simply, tapping on the datapad screen. “But he’s not so bad, I guess. Just a bit of an idiot. That doesn’t answer my question.”

The next pause is much longer.

“Haven’t seen you around.” Quaritch drawls, his voice slow and even. “Couldn’t get away from you, before.”

Oh my god, this man is just determined to humiliate you. 

Pursing your lips, you turn and march towards the specimen fridge in the corner of the room. It’s really just a mini fridge; a low, hip-high box that contains various biological specimens, and you kneel down and stick your head inside in an attempt to look busy.

“Not like there was any need to come see you.” You call out simply, your voice slightly muffled from inside the fridge. “You made yourself pretty clear, before.”

“Oh?” His voice is closer, though his steps are so light that you can’t hear him approach. “About what?”

“About me.” You snap, though you keep your head firmly buried in the fridge. It’s so much easier to talk to him when you can’t see his face. “Just go back to ignoring me, please.”

There’s another long pause, and you keep staring blankly at the bright white wall of the mini fridge. But then a touch comes to your hip, and you jolt in surprise. 

Quaritch’s hand is big and hot, the heat of it searing through the fabric of your labcoat and your sundress. It engulfs your whole damn hip, curving around towards your lower stomach.

“What’s with the change in clothes, sweetheart?” His voice has dropped an octave, rumbling into you as you feel him shuffle closer. “I thought all those little skirts were for me.”

Your fingers clench around the door of the fridge. What the fuck is he doing? All that time you had spent dressed up, made up, simpering like a damn idiot at him, he had barely even given you a sideways glance. But now, after screaming and crying at him like a lunatic, he’s making a pass at you while you’re wearing a simple dress with no makeup. What the fuck?

“I’m not trying to impress you.” You say simply – you feel braver inside the fridge.

“No?” His thumb strokes over your thigh, and you feel the hem of your dress hitch higher. “Well, I like this little number. Better than the others, maybe.”

You swallow thickly, staring blankly at one of the little labeled test tubes beside your face. You don’t answer, but you don’t protest either. Quaritch seems to take your lack of response as encouragement, because his whole hand drifts from your hip to just under your dress. You jerk as you feel the skirt being flipped up over your ass – but you still don’t pull away.

“Hey, kid,” He murmurs, his voice soft and a little condescending. “I gotta question for you.”

His hands are moving slowly, as though waiting to see if you’re going to kick out or try to stop him any way. You know you probably should (where is your goddamn self-respect), but for some reason you allow the touch to travel all the way up your thighs.

Your belly tightens, heat flooding between your legs. Oh god, why aren’t you stopping this? You’re already embarrassed enough about the show of yourself you’ve made in front of him – this is surely going to make it worse by making you seem like a total slut. But then again, you’ve been desperate for him since you first locked eyes on him. Maybe you are a slut.

“What?” You breathe, your voice trembling a little as his big fingers leave red-hot trails over the bare skin on the back of your legs. A large palm strokes over the inside of your thigh, the soft calluses tickling your sensitive skin.

“That dildo. You ever use it?”

The question startles you enough that you jolt, the top of your head smacking into the top of the fridge. 

“What?”

He chuckles, and then you feel those big fingers curl around your cotton panties. “You coming outta there?”

“No,” You blurt, grabbing at the sides of the mini fridge. “No, I’m very busy.”

There’s a sharp tug to your underwear, and you gasp as you feel him pull the back of your panties up so that they’re wedged right up between your ass cheeks, the fabric stretched taut and tight over your cunt. You’re admittedly wetter than you’d like to be, and you feel your cheeks burn at the thought of him noticing.

And yet, you still don’t pull away. If anything, you’re holding your breath, waiting to see what the fuck he’s going to do next.

When you feel warm breath on your exposed ass cheek, you nearly choke. Oh my god, how closely is he looking at you right now? Is his face pressed right up between your legs? It sure fucking feels like it.

“Answer the question.”

You swallow thickly. “I, um.. I don’t-”

His hand twists, and you gasp as your panties are pulled up further. The message is clear – tell the truth.

“Once,” You choke out, mortified. “Just once! I just- I threw it out after, I didn’t-”

You don’t even have time to fully process the fact that you’ve just admitted that. It had been a moment of total weakness, your decision to smuggle that stupid dildo back to your room. Or maybe it had been morbid curiosity – you just wanted to know if you would be able to take it. You had binned it straight after, mortified by your own weakness. 

There’s a sharp pain on the soft pudge of your ass, as though he’s just nipped at you there. Your thighs twitch together, horrified by the little electric zap of arousal that jolts between your legs.

“Could you take it?” He wonders, and you can hear a grin in his voice.

Holy shit, is this happening? Are you dead? Hallucinating? Have you just lost your goddamn mind?

Emboldened by the fact that he can’t see your face where you’ve stuffed your head and shoulders into the fridge, you mumble, “Pervert.”

Two hands grip at your hips, and you let out a wheezing, startled gasp when you feel a wide, rough tongue lick a stripe across your pussy through your panties. His spit soaks through the delicate fabric, making it cling to your already sticky cunt. 

“Whatcha say?” He mumbles, his muffled words vibrating against your clit. He sounds smug, the bastard.

Your thighs clench around his face, but he just reaches up and pushes them back open again with no effort.

“What are you doing?” You gasp out, dropping your forehead down onto the tray of the fridge and making the sample test tubes clink together dangerously.

He huffs a short laugh and pulls his head back to nip right at the juncture of your ass and thigh, making you jolt away from his mouth. “What, you don’t like it? Want me to stop?”

“No!” You blurt, reaching back to try and grab at his head to keep him in place.

He knocks your hand aside, but you can feel him laughing. “Get your head out of that goddamn fridge then, before I drag you out.”

You feel like staying inside the mini-fridge just on principle, but you can’t bear the thought of him pulling his mouth away from you. Not when he’s finally started to touch you, after so long of you yearning for it.

Slowly, you pull your head out. No sooner have you started to move then Quaritch uses his grip on your hips to pull you out. You let out a startled sound as his big hands grab at you and flip you, throwing you on your back in front of him. The display of casual strength is unexpected and very, very attractive, and your legs spread eagerly before he even moves to open them himself.

When you actually get a look at him, it nearly bowls you right over. His pupils are so blown that they’re swallowing his irises, leaving just a thin ring of gold around the edge. His ears are held high and alert, and his mouth is quirked in that infuriatingly cocky little grin right now. 

Fuck, he’s just as horny as you are. The realisation is shocking.

“Fuck, all this for me, baby?” He asks, hooking his fingers into your panties and tugging them right off with no effort.

You don’t put up a single ounce of fight, arching your back with an excited gasp as you’re left exposed in front of him with your dress all hiked up around your waist.

He lets out a soft groan as he reaches a finger out and drags it through the folds of your cunt, clearly marvelling at the wetness that has collected there. That same finger slips inside of you and you moan, wanting more, wanting to roll up into it, wanting the ache inside of you filled to the brim.

“Look at you, kid, all sexed up like this.” He says, pulling that finger out and admiring the glistening slick on his hand.

“You’re just a-” You gasp, heaving for breath as you struggle to regain yourself. “A dirty old man!”

That makes him laugh, a low groan of a sound that makes your eye twitch. Holy fuck, does he like being called names?

“Oh yeah?” He rumbles, sounding delighted. He doesn’t wait for you to answer before he’s licking at you again.

He flattens his tongue and guides it up, sliding across your slit before enveloping your clit in his mouth and sucking. You’re arching into his mouth, breathlessly stuttering his name as your hips twitch. His hands on your hips are so big and so strong, holding you so firmly in place as his mouth devours you. 

The flat of his tongue is rough and textured like a cat’s, and you let out a low gasping sound as it catches against your clit. Two of his fingers push into you as his tongue works over your clit, as thick and meaty as a well-hung cock. He must feel the flutter of your cunt around his fingers, because he growls low, his powerful form all but vibrating with tension. 

Oh god, he’s so big. You had known that, of course, but it’s so different having him all up in your space like this, your legs thrown over the bulge of his biceps as his big head worms its way between your legs, licking insistently at you. The bulk of him is enormous, simmering sexuality about to boil over - it’s insanely arousing to you, the sheer energy of him sending your head spinning. 

The onslaught of sensation from the wet heat of his mouth has your head dropping back to the floor, staring up at the ceiling as your eyes go wide. You’ve never felt anything like this before, and as much as you don’t want to give Quaritch the satisfaction of knowing that he affects you like this, you can't help the way your back bows as he licks and sucks at you. 

He grins against you when he feels you shiver against his mouth. When your thighs clench closed around his head he groans softly against you. Embarrassed, your legs spring back apart, but Quaritch reaches up and grabs at your thighs to prevent them from spreading too wide.

“Squeeze if you want to.” He grunts, before devoting all his attention to licking and sucking at you once more. He tugs encouragingly at your thighs, and when you wrap them tentatively around his head he gives an appreciative little hum.

You shiver, chest heaving. When he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, his textured tongue rasping over the bead of nerves, a strong white current washes over you and you arch into his mouth as you come.

You can’t speak, can’t think. The feeling is too overwhelming, too all-consuming before the come down eventually starts and words are coming out, your body shaking. 

“Oh fuck, god – oh my god,” you sob, slapping your hand over your mouth, biting down at your palm. “Quaritch– please, shit.”

You jerk your hips up, partially in an attempt to escape from the relentless stroking of his rough tongue over your oversensitive clit, but Quaritch moves with them. He’s basically on his knees following your cunt like a dog as you try to twitch away, using his huge hands on your ass to keep you pulled tight against his mouth.

He goes on licking at your clit and the swollen puffiness of your cunt, and when the rough texture catching against your most sensitive spot gets too much for you, you have to push at his head. He pulls back just slightly, but then continues to lick at the insides of your thighs, as if to lap up every last glimmer of your slickness.

Your head rolls on your neck, all boneless and loose as you wheeze for breath. Jesus Christ, you’ve just come so hard you can’t feel your toes. Colonel Quaritch has just eaten your pussy so goddamn good that you nearly blacked out. What the fuck?

Your cunt is still pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm when you feel Quaritch’s big fingers pressing inside of you, testing the stretch and slickness.

“You never answered me,” He murmurs, his tone almost conversational despite the huskiness of his voice. “And I hate repeating myself. So tell me; could you take that dildo?”

“Yes,” You sob, twisting your body around as his thumb rolls over your too-sensitive clit. “Yes, I could take it.”

“Yeah?” He says and it comes out on a purr, the vibrations rumbling in between your legs. “Think you could take me?”

You hardly have any idea how you’ve gotten into this position, but you’ve been imagining this for months now. You’re not stupid enough to throw away this chance.

“Why don’t you come and see?” You breathe, leaning back and arching your back boldly. You can hardly believe your own bravery, but maybe your own horniness is just making you stupid.

But Quaritch laughs, as though he finds you stupidly amusing, and his hands drop to his belt. You watch with wide, eager eyes as he flicks open his cargos and pushes them down and oh! There it is.

You push yourself up to get a better look, mouth falling open a little bit as you get a look at his cock. It’s big and blue and ridged, just like the dildo, but you hardly think it’s fair to compare the two. Quaritch’s cock is real, and looks velvety soft to the touch with a prominent, purplish head. Opalescent precum is beading at the tip, tinged slightly blue and glowing a little bit, what the fuck? He’s so hard that it looks a little painful as it strains against his stomach, though he’s still grinning so slyly that you would never guess.

You want to touch, but you don’t get the chance. His big paws for hands close around your hips and flip you again so that you’re on your hands and knees once more – he seems to like you in this position, because his hands grope insistently at the soft flesh of your ass as he grinds his hips into yours, the thick hardness of his cock rutting against the inside of your thighs.

He’s rough with you by human standards, but never enough to hurt. Just enough to send a little thrill up your spine when he pulls your hips into his, the thick ridge of his cockhead beginning to prod at the entrance of your cunt. It’s hot and large, but your mind feels like liquid, too drunk on all the pleasure he’s given you so far to deny more. 

You choke weakly, but you don’t try to wriggle away. You can do this, you can take him. He’s prepared you well, you’re relaxed and so wet, and you had managed to take that dildo inside you, if only for a brief time. You try to stop tensing and relax yourself as you take shaky breaths.

Quaritch pushes his cock in a little further, almost unbearably slow. You feel yourself being stretched open, small stings of pain shooting through you as you drop your forehead to the ground and grunt. One of his big thumbs strokes over the small of your back, the motion soothing and unexpectedly sweet as he slips another inch inside. 

“Oh, fuck.” You squeak, eyes wide. 

You can feel little bumps and ridges squeezing their way inside as he penetrates you, your lungs seizing up. Quiet cries and gasps fall out of your mouth as you adjust to the feeling of his cock filling you up. No human had ever given you this overwhelming sensation before, the feeling of being impossibly stretched open beyond belief. Not even that stupid goddamn dildo had come close to this.

Every time you think the length of his textured cock has finally ended, he’ll push a little more of himself in. You keep your eyes tightly closed as you continue panting heavily. He’s going incredibly slow too, careful and deliberate in his movements. You had stupidly thought that you would adjust quickly, but it feels as though you’re just barely hanging in there. 

Then, finally, Quaritch pauses. It’s a mercy, because your breaths are coming in wheezing pants now as you clench up around his cock, tightening up around the intrusion in flutters. You must be tight to the point of causing pain, but he just lets out a rumbly sort of groan against your back. His hands tense around your middle, impossibly long fingers holding you in place.

Right as you begin to accept the size of him, he uses that grip on your waist to pull you away from his cock and then back down onto him again. It knocks the wind right out of you. You gulp wildly for air, soundlessly. You can’t even cry out, you’re so stunned.

“Fuck,” Quaritch moans. “Like wet velvet, honey. Well done.”

Before you can process or even think, Quaritch pulls out and then pushes back into you, again and again. Every bump drags against your walls and snags on every sensitive part of you. It feels like you had never been fucked before this, the sweet, dull pain and overwhelming sensations of Quaritch looming over your body ruining you. 

He huffs and growls as he begins to thrust up into you, no longer slow and careful. Each time he pistons his hips, it’s powerful and keeps you from taking deep breaths. The way his body presses into yours, the way every part of you touches his burning skin, is intoxicating.

His need, his hunger borders on bestial. His wet breath condenses against your skin as he ruts into you fervently, destroying your thoughts. You’re totally at his mercy, whimpering pathetically and whining. 

It’s all too much, his size, his pace, his sharp teeth nipping the back of your neck and shoulders. He’s like a wild animal, his hard cock burying itself inside you over and over again. It’s the first time that you really begin to appreciate that Quaritch isn’t human anymore – it extends far beyond his looks and into his behaviour and instincts as well. There’s no reprieve; you can only accept his intense pace.

Unbelievably, your abdomen is tensing again, reeling up tighter and tighter. You’re on the brink of coming again, but it feels like it’s impossible. You’ve never been so pleased by a partner before, hardly ever able to come at the hands of someone else, and you’ve never come so quickly twice in succession before. You feel like you’ll die if you come again, it was too much. Everything was too much.

“Come on, mama, let me see that back arch.” Quaritch mutters to you, his voice thick and growling as his big hand settles across your shoulderblades and pushes you down.

All you can do is obey, shivering as his big hand keeps your upper body pinned to the floor, his other hand using its grip on your waist to pull your ass up higher so that he can pound into you at a better angle.

“I’m going to-” You gasp, your thighs trembling as you sob against the floor. “Oh, god, oh fuck, oh shit, I’m going to-”

“Gonna cream on me?” Quaritch grunts, his pace taking the air out of you. “Go ahead, kid. Go on. This is what you’ve been wanting, isn’t it?”

His hips slam into your ass with every thrust, every drag of his cock working those ridges against the sensitive nerves inside of you. You can feel him twitch inside of you, a sure sign that he’s approaching his own release. The thought makes you moan as the strength behind his hips sends you skidding forward on every thrust before getting yanked back by his hands.

Your lashes are all clumped together from tears, your mouth hanging open stupidly – not only are his thrusts knocking the air from you, it feels as though they’re knocking the thoughts from you too. It feels as though he’s giving fucked stupid an entirely new meaning. Your entire world has narrowed down to the sensation of his cock rutting between your legs, his balls grinding against your clit. Your release is winding up in your belly, and you feel your eyes roll and toes curl as it approaches.

“You been watching me, wanting this. If I’d known what a little spitfire you were, maybe I would have given it to you sooner-”

He rocks into you, his pace now rough and deliberate as he claims you in short, fast strokes. Your little workroom is filled with the unmistakable sound of slapping flesh, his hips snapping against your ass with every feral grunt. He has you pinned so firmly beneath him, every thrust feeling as though it’s punching right up into your chest. It aches, and that ache spreads throughout your pelvis, your belly. It’s warm and sweet as syrup. It feels like he's going to break you in half. You think you might want him to break you in half.

“Look at you go.” Quaritch mumbles, seemingly to himself, and then you feel the broad expanse of his hand slap against the soft flesh of your ass. It seems like he just wants to watch it jiggle as he ruts you like an animal. 

He leans forward, his sharp teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he murmurs to you.“This is what that limp-dicked bitch from earlier wanted with you, you know. Bet he imagined you just like this, all stretched out and wanting on that dildo he gave you. Little pervert. He wouldn’t know what to do with you. Think he’s outside listening? I bet all those cockless motherfuckers are listening right now, trying to imagine what you look like. Let them hear you, honey. Go on.”

It’s too much for you. Your elbows give out, your face smushing against the floor as Quaritch uses his grip on your hips to pull your ass back against him, his huge torso plastering itself against your back. His cock is spearing into you so deep that you feel as though you’re going to feel him inside you like this forever, feel the ghost of his cock plowing into you long after he’s gone. You feel every ridge, every vein, every throb.

“Oh god, oh fuck, shit, please!” You wheeze, shuddering as he fucks you into the floor. “I need to come, I need to come-”

You’re cut off from your babbling when one of Quaritch’s big, thick thumbs hooks into your mouth and presses down on your tongue. You moan, closing your eyes and sucking desperately at his stupid blue finger.

“Fuck, you’re hungry for it, ain’tcha.” Quaritch snickers, but he sounds breathless and a little disbelieving. “And here I was thinkin’ you were such a shy little thing.”

Just as suddenly as his finger had pushed its way into your mouth it’s removed, and you almost whine at the loss of it. But then, to your shock, you feel the spit-slick pad of his thumb stroking over the exposed rim of your asshole. He presses inside, the blunt thickness of his fat thumb wiggling inside as your whole body clenches around the intrusion hard.

With an overwhelmed scream, your entire body pulses like a heartbeat and your vision goes white. Your orgasm rocks through you like fire, as relentless and merciless as Quaritch’s rocking hips as he continues to fuck you through the quivers of your release.

“There you go,” He coos at you like you’re a goddamn animal. “Oh fuck, you needed this, didn’t you?”

Choked moans and hitched breaths bubble out of your mouth uncontrollably. It’s like he’s just been waiting for you to come, because now he loses that edge of controlled restraint that he’d managed to maintain. His thrusting is sloppy, uneven – he’s unmistakably nearing his own finish.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about, darlin’.” He snarls. “Look at you gushin’ all over my cock.”

You yelp as he buries himself deep inside of you one last time, a rumbling snarl tearing its way out of his throat. You can feel the ridge of his pubic bone against your ass, his muscular thighs bracketing your own. He is rooted to the hilt, burrowing as far as possible, and you choke at the sensation of impossible fullness.

Quaritch hisses like an animal when he comes, and you squeal at the feeling of his hot come splashing inside of you then overflowing. It’s so hot that it feels as though it’s burning, but Quaritch just keeps going, the squelching shamefully loud in the quiet of the room.

Soon you’re forced to reach back and slap at his hip, gasping for breath and whimpering under the onslaught of his spent cock rubbing so insistently at your hypersensitive sex.

“Enough, fuck! Enough!” You wheeze, your forehead dropping down against the floor in surrender.

There’s a pause, and then Quaritch stops moving, his slowly softening cock buried deep inside and staying there. The heavy weight of him feels good, and you go lax on the floor as his big hands hold you up so lazily. Your chest is still heaving as you try to regulate your breathing, and Quaritch makes a couple of condescending cooing sounds to keep you quiet as he rolls you over beneath him. 

“Ow, fuck.” You breathe when he pulls out of you, leaving you awfully empty and clenching around nothing as you feel the wet dribble of his come spill out of you.

He pauses, glances down at your cunt. You can imagine you look nothing short of ruined right now, but Quaritch seems to be immensely satisfied at whatever he sees. He chortles a soft laugh, and reaches down to stroke his fingers through the sticky mess he’s left between your legs.

Your head lolls on your shoulders as you swat at him, grumbling at the electric shiver that the oversensitivity sends through you. He just snickers at your weak attempt to smack his hands away, unphased, and closes his hands around your waist before bodily picking you up to hold you against his chest.

You groan, unhappy to be moved. “Jesus Christ, gimme a minute.”

He ignores you, snorting another quiet laugh before standing with you, unbothered by the way you hang limp in his arms as he carries you towards one of the desks. His breathing is slightly laboured, and he practically drops you on the surface of the desk as he reaches for the respirator that he seemed to have abandoned when he first came in. His determination to fuck you through atmosphere that he struggles to breathe in is admirable; the Na’vi may be able to breathe oxygenated air for up to an hour, but it can be a challenge and that’s without strenuous physical activity.

Still, you can’t help but snicker yourself.

“What's wrong, old man?” You crow at him, grinning as you lay splayed out and exhausted on the desk below him. “Out of breath?”

Quaritch takes deep breaths from the respirator, clearly trying to regulate his body again after so long without proper air, but he still manages to choke a faintly disbelieving laugh.

“You used to be so sweet.” He mutters, slapping lightly at your thigh. It’s not a harsh smack, just enough to have you jolting a little under him. “What the hell happened, huh?”

“You didn’t look twice at me when I was sweet.” You grumble, reaching down to push the skirt of your dress back down self-consciously. “So don’t go acting like you’re disappointed.”

Quaritch snorts. Respirator abandoned, he leans down and nips at your shoulder, grinning against your bared skin as you jerk and cry out ow, fuck.

“Mm, I like a bit of fire.” He mutters, allowing the respirator to hang down around his neck as he licks over the little bite mark he’s left. “But you’re wrong about me looking. I can’t say I didn’t like those little skirts.”

“Oh.” You breathe, starting to smile. “Okay.” A little flustered now, you start to push yourself up into a sitting position, embarrassed about your spread legs. “Um… where’s my underwear?”

Quaritch grunts as though he doesn’t care for the question in the least. “D’you need them?”

“Yes!”

That big, stupid smug grin again. You’d dearly love to smack it off his face, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still send butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He doesn’t make any effort to seek out your lost panties, but you can’t be too irritated with him when he keeps nipping so insistently at the base of your neck, leaving hot twinges of pain-pleasure in the wake of his mouth.

“Asshole.” You say, though without any heat. Your eyes slide closed, enjoying his rough tongue against your collarbones. “Hey. You never told me why you came looking for me, anyway. Was it just to laugh at me?”

Finally, Quaritch raises his head. This close, you allow your eyes to trace over his face; his features are so alien, big and bold and more expressive than he intends. His ears twitch, and you fight back a smile at the sight. Sweet.

“Brought you more of that damned plant water.” He grunts. “It’s on your desk.”

Your eyes widen, and you immediately try to sit up, pushing roughly at his chest. “What?”

Quaritch allows you to push him away, though it’s not without an irritated sort of groan. Still though, he doesn’t look annoyed as he steps back to allow you to scramble off the counter he’s had you propped up on. If anything, his swishing tail reveals his sense of satisfaction.

Your knees nearly buckle when you hop down on the floor, but Quaritch’s enormous hand wraps around your elbow and keeps you upright. You don’t pause to try and regain your balance – you’re too busy trying to stagger over to your own messy workspace, your eyes wide and fixated on the sight of a sample beaker perched atop your desk.

“No way. No fucking way-!” You crow, your face splitting into an irrepressible grin. “Holy fuck!”

If possible, this sample is even bigger than the one that Wainfleet and Fike had smashed all over your notes. You take it in with disbelief, your hands reaching for it eagerly.

“A sample this size will let me do all the tests I need for my dissertation and more,” You breathe, awed. “I can- oh, wow. I’m going to finish my whole thesis. I’m going to get my motherfucking PhD.”

Quaritch’s mouth quirks, clearly amused by your foul mouth. He leans back against one of the spare desks just so he can watch you fuss over the sample he’s brought. 

“Do I get something in return?” He asks, and you can feel his big golden eyes dropping down over the length of your legs. His gaze feels even more heated now, as though knowing exactly what’s under your dress has lit some sort of fire in him.

You snort, stepping over to the sample fridge with the beaker clasped very carefully in your hands. 

“You certainly do not.” You say archly, hoping to maintain an aura of aloofness as you tug the fridge door open and place your precious sample carefully inside. “As far as I’m concerned, this sample can be considered reparations. If you bring me a sample of panopyra sensory tissue, however… then we can talk about rewards.”

You half wonder if maybe that was too bold, but Quaritch’s next chuckle holds an edge of heated delight. It seems like he wasn’t lying about liking a little fire. You’re so distracted by the careful tucking away of your sample that you jolt when you feel huge blue hands coming to land at your waist, tightening over your hipbones.

When he leans in to murmur in your ear, you shudder helplessly at the rumble of his chest. 

“Sounds good to me, sweetheart,” He mumbles, a hand reaching to stroke boldly over the curve of your ass. “And maybe next time we can get going without you wearing this damn fridge as a hat.”

[foxigemini]

Miles Quaritch x Reader, Miles accidentally finds an aphrodisiac plant and after a little bit of walking, meets up with fellow recom!reader and then smut?

Ooohhh yes! Thanks for the request! My first time writing something with sex pollen, so I hope I didn't screw up 🙃

Feral - Recom!Miles Quaritch x Recom!Female Reader

Warnings: Nsfw, Smut, Sex Pollen, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex.

It was just another recon in the Pandora forest. Or so Quaritch thought. He had divided the team into two and two to cover more ground. He was watching your backside in front of him, his eyes glued to your ass fitted into those tight cargo pants of yours. Damn, he wouldn't mind hitting that. But he knew relationships with teammates always complicated things. Spider was enough evidence of that.

You could feel Colonel Quaritch's eyes on you, which always made you uncomfortable and turned on at the same time. There was no denying the guy was hot, but the smug bastard knew all too well the effect he had on women. And you hated nothing more than self-satisfied men who thought they were above everyone else. And yet, you couldn't stop fantasizing about him taking you however he wanted, fucking you like you were nothing but a little sex doll while mocking you, and you hated yourself for it.

Something in the corner of Quaritch's eye caught his attention. He came to a halt, inspecting the alien flower with curiosity. A simple flower wouldn't usually pique his interest, but there was something about this one that made him take a closer look. It resembled the orchids back on earth, only much taller and bigger, its blood-red color standing out amongst all the green. Quaritch bent down, only to be sprayed with a mist of red pollen hitting his face. What the hell? Quaritch jolted back and coughed as the mist went into his mouth and nose, and he blinked to try and get rid of the stuff in his eyes. Quaritch stumbled backward and bumped into you. He turned around and squinted, trying to focus his gaze, but you were nothing but a blur in front of him.

"Are you okay?" you asked and eyed him with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Quaritch coughed again and rubbed his eyes. "Just this fuckin' flower spraying me with something."

You looked down at the flower and took a step back. You sure as hell wouldn't want to be infected with some alien shit.

"We should head back to base. That thing might be poisonous.

"Yeah," Quaritch nodded and blinked as his vision cleared. It was better to be safe than sorry. "I guess you're right."

You nodded back and turned around to head back to the group's rendezvous point.

Quaritch had a hard time focusing with your fine ass in front of him. He kept staring at it, swaying side to side as you walked. Fuck, why did you have to be so damn enticing? He started to feel hotter, his breathing heavy and labored as he could feel his dick hardening and throbbing inside the confinement of his cargo pants. What the hell was wrong with him? Sure, he'd been hard and aroused around you before, but never like this. Never this intense and hot and sweaty...

You were following the path back to the rendezvous point when you were suddenly pushed against the nearest tree. You huffed in surprise and from the impact, frowned when you felt Quaritch's hot breath against your ear and his muscular body pressed against you.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" you barked and hissed at him.

"Need. To fuck," Quaritch muttered out of breath, and your eyes widened at his words, but more so when he shifted his body, and you felt a hard bulge press against the cleft of your ass.

"Q-Quaritch?" you stuttered and felt your cheeks get hot when you heard him open his pants. You knew this was wrong, but this was exactly like one of your fantasies. Him taking what he wanted for his own pleasure.

"Take these damn pants off," he growled with a strained voice and started tugging on the buttons of your pants. A rush of arousal surged through your body, but you still managed to get enough control to turn around and push him away from you, making him stumble backward.

"What the fuck, Quaritch!" you snarled but quickly grew quiet when your gaze landed on his very hard cock. It was poking out of the opening of his pants, standing up against his stomach. The head was aggressively purple, and blue throbbing veins were bulging across the sides of his dick. Fuck, you'd never seen a cock this hard before, like it was ready to explode.

Quaritch made a noise that sounded full of agony and pain. Looking up at his face, you could see the sweat trickling down his forehead. His eyes flickered back and forth in panic, and his chest was heaving rapidly along with his desperate breaths.

"P-Please...," Quaritch pleaded desperately. "It feels like I'm burning up from the inside. I just need to.. I need to fuck. Please..."

You stared at Quaritch as you recalled something you read before coming to Pandora. A myth about an aphrodisiac flower supposedly growing here, a flower that the only cure for was having sex, or you would die. What if it wasn't a myth? What if it was all true? Could you really take the risk of ignoring this? If you did, and it was true, Quaritch would be dead soon.

Before you knew it, you were quickly unbuttoning your pants and stepping out of them along with your underwear and boots. Next, you removed the clothes on your upper body and dropped them on the ground.

"Then, fuck me Quaritch," you heard the words coming from your mouth without even registering that you were uttering them. Your breath caught in your throat when Quaritch lifted his head, and you saw the feral look in his eyes as his gaze traveled down your body. A surge of arousal spiked through your core at the look he gave you, like a lion about to devour his prey. And at that moment, that was all you wanted him to do.

Quaritch's thoughts were overpowered by the primal desire pumping through his veins when you stood there in front of him like a tempting goddess.

He charged forward like a growling tiger in heat, pushing you down on the ground beneath him.

You lost your breath for a moment at the impact, your widening eyes staring up at him as he grabbed your wrist and locked your arms above your head while slamming inside you in one, swift movement.

You cried out as Quaritch's cock plunged into you without mercy, hitting the tip of your cervix as he buried himself balls deep in your cunt. Quaritch growled at the sensation of your soft, squishy walls gripping his cock so tightly.

Shit, you were so fucking wet for him. If he were in his normal state, he would tease you about it. But all he cared about now was the sweet relief of emptying his seed in your womb. He started thrusting like a savage, grunting with each buck of his hips as he rammed his cock harder and deeper inside you.

The initial pain you felt was swiftly replaced, every plunge of Quaritch's cock inside you sending a jolt of pleasure through your belly. Quaritch let go of your wrists and grabbed your hips instead, holding you firmly as he crashed his pelvis against your inner thighs. You looked up into Quaritch's eyes, but it was like he wasn't there anymore. Only an animal taking care of its primal needs. Faster and faster, he went, fucking you into the ground, sure to leave bruises for days. Soon, you felt the familiar pleasure build up in your core, and at a certain deep thrust, Quaritch sent you over the edge. You arched your back and tightened your pussy around his cock as your orgasm rippled through your body.

A wave of pleasure rushed through Quaritch's core when your tight tunnel clenched around him. It was all it took for him to come, his hips pumping through his climax as he filled your pussy with his semen. A sigh of relief left his lungs as he slumped his heavy body down on the ground next to you.

"Are you okay?" you asked out of breath, your chest heaving rapidly as you looked at him.

Quaritch nodded and looked back at you, his chest heaving in pace with yours. A sudden realization of what he had done came over him, and his eyes widened in guilt-ridden shame.

"Shit! I'm sorry, y/n. I don’t know what the fuck happened to me. I couldn't control myself anymore."

You smiled. "It's alright, Quaritch. It wasn't your fault. It was that flower."

Quaritch frowned. "The flower?"

"Yeah." You sat up, suddenly aware of how naked you were. Quickly, you picked up your tank top and pulled it down over your head before reaching for your underwear. You continued speaking as you put on the rest of your clothes, trying to ignore the gush of semen pouring out of you and wettening your panties. "I read something about it before I came here. Something about an aphrodisiac flower with some weird sex pollen. It was supposed to be a myth. Guess we can confirm it was not," you said and chuckled as you stood up.

"Yeah, I guess so," Quaritch chuckled back as he stood up along with you, cautiously eyeing your face. "Are you alright, though?"

"Yes, I'm fine. It's not like I haven't thought about doing this with you," you said and blushed the second you realized what you'd said.

Fuck.

"Is that so?" Quaritch raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Well, just say the word, and I'm all yours, sugar."

You rolled your eyes and sighed. You would never hear the end of this. "Just come on. The others are probably waiting for us," you muttered and walked off ahead of him.

Quaritch chuckled and followed in your path, his eyes never leaving the round curves of your ass and your tail swaying side to side. Yup, hooking up with teammates was never a good idea, but it sure was fun.

[tojisun]

thinking about the way he’d lift you up in his arms, helping you as you wrap your legs around his waist, before gently sandwiching you between his bigger body and the wall, and then fucking you like that. you’re weightless in his arms, crying and moaning, hiding your tear-stained face on the crook of his neck as he bounces your body on his cock, gripping the meat of your thighs as he does so.

“you’re so good to me, sweetheart,” he’d say, nuzzling his face on the side of your cheek, preening when all you could do is gasp out a shaky moan of his name. “that’s right, sweet girl. you’re daddy’s greatest joy.”

– jake, tonowari, quaritch

[nervousd]

Drabble— Longing

→ Infatuation | m.list

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Before setting fire to the hooches, Quaritch had decided to pay your little hut a visit. He was curious as to how you lived— eager to know more about you. There was clothing scattered around along with trinkets. A picture frame of you and Grace along with other science pukes posing for a picture. He took his time in tinkering with random objects that caught his curiosity— ornaments scattered here and there. It was homey— decorated just the way you like it. He inhaled softly, eyes hazing as your smell comforted his tense muscles. He sluggishly went over to your makeshift bed; it dipped under his weight as he sat down.

His fingers dragged along the fabric, rubbing it between his fingers. He gripped the garment tighter, pressing his nose against the fabric. It smelled just like you— he clung onto the fabric tighter; wrapping it around his body. It was as if you were embracing him. Just like how you used to— wrapping your arms around him and whispering sweet words in his ear. Tracing his scar with soft caresses— he stands up abruptly, chest heaving and heart thumping. His tail slapped numerous items to the ground as he pawed aimlessly at a pile of dirty clothes in your hamper.

His hands moved to their own accord— finding socks, shirts, bras and underwear. He snatched the clothes up smashing them against his face. He inhaled aggressively, his muzzle pressed against your soiled underwear. A low groan escaped his lips— tongue dragging across its surface. He could taste the tangy taste of your cunt on his tongue. His eyes rolled to the back of his head— saliva coating the fabric as he continued to suck on the piece of cloth. It wasn’t enough for him— but not to panic. Now that he has you waiting patiently for him back in his room where he ordered you to be placed; he’ll finally have a proper taste of you.

He dragged the pile towards the mattress, spreading the clothes across the bed. He laid down on the pile, nuzzling the clothing with the tip of his nose. He reached down grabbing his cock, lewdly squeezing the protruding bulge. He groaned in relief, his cock was swollen and desparte for much needed attention—without hesitance he shoved his palms down his pants; wrapping his hands around his length. With your panties shoved against his face his imagination runs wild. Short snippets of memories of your whorish moans come to mind— you sprawled on his bed with your legs spread out and him feasting on your drooling cunt.

His fingers pressed on the bulbous tip of his cock, pre-cum leaking out. His hips thrusted up, frantic to get any sort of friction he could get. His eyes rolled to the back of his head— ❝ shit— sweetheart, you’re driving me crazy ❞ he moaned out your name. He stroked himself with fervor, picturing you on top of him and riding his cock desperately like the good slut he knows you are. His hips stutter as he neared his high, lost in the intoxication of his desires for you. He wonders just how much your cunt can take— would you squeal and whine? Whine about how big his cock is? Push against his shoulders as you wiggle beneath him hoping for any mercy he can give— would you get drunk on cock— babbling nonsense as you go stupid. Fuck— what he would give to see you fall apart on his dick. Would he take you face down ass up? Mewling and whimpering as he bullies his cock into your cunt

He stroked himself with fervor, picturing you going stupid on him— having the full advantage to use you like a flesh light. His own personal hole for him to fuck— his teeth clenched down; eyes rolling to the back of his skull. He couldn’t cum now— not with his balls swollen and full of cum. He couldn’t waste his seed on his hands— his breath was labored as he released his cock from his grip. Not yet— not when he has access to your body, he’ll make sure to fill you up. He could picture it— your cunt messy and swollen, filled with cum— hell maybe you’ll pop another kid for him.

His hands trailed lower towards his swollen balls, fondling them with care as he imagined you on your knees; basking his balls with your tongue. He released a deap, grutal groan from his lips. Drool leaking at the corner of your lips with tears glistening in your eyes— messy— just how he likes it. He shudders at the thought— a wave of lust washes over him. He quickly gathers himself, shoving a couple of panties inside his pockets. He’ll have you soon— real soon

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━━━ : © NERVOUS.D

[vinciwolf]

In Need

Recom!Miles Quaritch x (fem)reader

For @justasimps-blog​

Warnings: NSFW, established relationship, p in v, size difference, fingering, breeding kink, ovulation, mention of pregnancy, clit teasing, rough sex, light dirty talk, reader is tied up.

Summary: Reader is ovulating, desperate, and in need of some help from her boyfriend Miles Quaritch.

Your forehead dotted with the sheen of sweat covering your forehead. It wasn't fair. No, this was fucking miserable. Your body was overheating and cramping and it sucked.

You were ovulating and the son of a bitch on top of you was taking his sweet fucking time getting to it. Your hands were locked above you, tied to the bed post, all the while your naked body wriggled with a slow roll of your hips trying to find some kind of friction in your disheveled mess. The bedsheets were ruined from how heavily your folds cried to be bred, to be filled with hot seed that could catch. Not that you ever wanted for it to go that far, but just the thought of his cock knocking you up so hard a union could form was all it took for another surge of arousal to dribble out.

Nothing would please you more than to have Miles' girth ramming you into the bed, but his fingers were like feathers, giving just enough to itch your want, but light enough to have your nerves, your very skin, screaming at the air while your nipples tightened so hard they burned with a twisted flame.

A pleading whimper broke the delicate sexual tension that held between you and the Recom. His hands ran down your side until he reached the bend of your legs at your hips, spread out like a wild flower blooming for all to see. Your slit was wide open and pussy lips swollen. The Colonel could only chuckle darkly.

"Ah, is my babygirl in heat? She need someone to put a baby in 'er?"

A big, blue thumb pressed a circle into your clit causing you to squirm anxiously with a high-pitched echo leaping from your chest. There was a sweat droplet growing fat at the side of your face and it bugged you that it wouldn't fall already, teeth chewing your lip as the pain of your arousal danced through your lower half. Then another circle into your mound threw you into a fit. Your hands tugged at your confinements with a bend to your spine. The air was difficult to keep down now, voice ragged and hoarse.

"Ple–please..." You managed to croak.

With a final sweep to your sensitive bud which blinded your senses, body stiffening from the heat moving within below, Miles dove two thick fingers into your helplessly wet pussy. A cry reaching toward the heavens rung through the room as your walls gripped the sudden fullness. The Recom shoved deep before retreating, only to then suddenly rush back inside. This went on until his thrusts synced with your hips rocking upwards against his hand, fucking yourself just right, leaving you happily drunk and blissed as you got closer to your high. But that joy was soon destroyed when the Recom pulled his fingers out unexpectedly making you whine in protest.

"You won't finish unless you're on my cock. Got it?" The Colonel was stern, yet a smirk carried through his words as he watched you writhe without his touch.

You bobbed quickly, face growing hot with a deep blush, that sweat droplet smearing a line down your face.

Then you felt it. Finally. Miles placed his massive cock on your stomach that had your body inwardly jumping with adrenaline and anticipation. Then the length slid down. You closed your eyes and paced yourself, head falling back into the pillow, when you felt the thick head nudge your swollen pussy lips. Damn fucking finally.

The girth pushed forward. Your body reacted with a sudden outburst of ecstasy as you were slowly stretched full, breath hot and loud. Inch by inch the cock rushed your hole until it was seated at your cervix. It nudged a little more to fully press itself snug against the soft mound that had you seeing ivory.

Miles groaned and seethed above you as he took in the sight of your rounded slit his length stuffed tightly. He too was enjoying this, body hungry to fill you up with his cum. A molten shiver bubbled through his lower half as he thought of how you were ovulating. Eyes dark, he gripped your legs, spreading you further 'til your knees touched the bed. Just thinking about putting his kid in you got his heart pounding through his ears, mouth pulling into a fanged smirk.

"Don't cum unless a say so," he commanded.

Cheeks feverish, chest glistening with sweat, all you wanted was for him to move, to stuff you 'til you dripped white! You were so heavy and swollen below you couldn't think, already stressing and distracted enough by your body releasing so many hormones it was painful and the immense stretch of the Colonel's size that all you could muster was a brief nod.

When he pulled out, you squirmed disappointedly, but then he bucked his hips that had you cry loudly with glee before your hole was plowed with a force that had your voice box knocked out of you, tits bouncing.

"Ha, ha HAAA!" you screamed, neck craning, as your eyes fluttered, hands gripping the bed post making your knuckles pale.

"Erm! Gonna–ugh!–make you so round–fuck!–with my kid! Jesus Christ, you're so wet!" Miles heaved above you.

You riled him up like you wouldn't believe. Your slick gushed and coated his length making his cock twitch as it shoved deep and hard into your little pussy. The Recom then grasped the bed post and leaned his weight over you. His other hand held your leg with a bruising vice while he ravaged you with quicker, meaner, thrusts. He was feral, golden eyes blown out while he marked you with heavy shots of precum.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. Your overheating body was drenched at this point, belly contracting to the buildup of your orgasm that melted away any semblance of sanity and rational. You craved the chance of getting knocked up and it drove your cock drunk mind wild.

Squeezing around the large girth ramming your cervix, you cried when it shallowed its thrusts as Miles got closer to release.

"Mmph!" you whimpered, lips quivering, the coiled rope in your stomach about to unfold.

"It's ok! Cum for me!" he yelled, chasing his own orgasm.

Your whole body spasmed, lungs made of lead, while your orgasm ripped through you splitting your mind in half. A rush spilled from your folds squirting onto Miles’ pillar and stones, dripping down your ass and onto the bed.

The Colonel pressed the head of his mushroomed cock as far back into your cervix he could get before he painted your walls with creamy ropes of cum.

You shuttered and cooed, feeling the hot streams fill you up.

The Recom unfastened his grip from the bed post and leaned down to connect a kiss with your hair. Then he slowly pulled out with an unplugged pop that cascaded his milky cum from your slit down your crack. He immediately closed your knees and held them to your stomach, trying to keep his seed from leaking more, but it was futile and only made his cock stiffen again by his own accidental doing. With your arms above your head and your legs held up showing off his thick, white cum lining your pussy lips and asshole had him thinking about another round. He wanted to fill you up more until it took days for his cum to empty from that pretty cunt of yours.

You fidgeted with your restraints and whined in pleasant bliss, back arching as you stretched your sore muscles.

"Babe?" Miles said.

"Hmm?" you mumbled.

Then his cock was stuffing you again and you whimpered at how good it felt to be full and heavy once more

"I ain't gonna stop 'til you can't walk tomorrow..."

Your hands gripped the bed post as you spread your legs open.

"Please, Miles~" you consented, cheeks blushing.

.

.

.

Tags: @ancientbeing10​ @thegrandimperfection @blue-bluee @mileswifefr @deliwrites @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @avatar-lover @justasimps-blog @mechformers @whereireid @whxre-bxby @miscellaneousfantasies

[plzfeedmebread]

What Do I Tell My Friends Family? Pt. 7

word count: 4611

Pairing: Recom! Miles! Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi! Reader Tags/Warnings: smut, light bondage, dirty talk, pregnancy sex, light degradation, p in v, family, fluff, feelings, crying, comfort, acceptance

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long everyone! Hope you enjoy :)))

<previous chapter> | 7 |

The sound of rain pulls you from slumber. The air is thick and humid this morning. You breath deep, the salty air filling your lungs, wiping away the last dregs of sleep.

Your beloved is not beside you; ever the early morning riser that one. Neither are the twins nor Spider, you notice.

With a groan you slowly sit yourself up, having to exert more effort than usual. Once up, your hand moves to the swell of your belly. Shouldn’t be too long now before this one joins your ever-growing little family. You estimate you have about 2 months to go.

You open your home to allow the fresh air in. You reach out to gather some of the cool summer rainwater in your hands, splashing it on your face. You light a small fire in the pit, then set about preparing some meats to cook for breakfast. While those sizzle, you then prepare some fresh fruit that had been left outside your doorstep; the clan often leave you things as their way of helping, knowing you’re due almost any day now.

“Somethin’ smells good,” your ear perk up at the sound of Miles’ voice.

“Good morning, husband,” you greet but don’t turn around. You don’t have to, because before you finish speaking, his arms are already around you. His hot breath tickles the back of your neck as he leaves soft kisses there.

“How’re my best girls this morning?” his hands gently cup the swell of your belly, gently swaying the two of you to some unheard tune. He presses his chest to your bare back, the cool wet skin of his sends a delicious shiver down your spine.

“Oh? And how do you know we are not blessed with more sons?” You smile at him over your shoulder.

“Father’s intuition sweetheart,” He leans to the side presses a quick kiss to your lips. He pulls back, pressing the side of his face to yours as he peers over your shoulder as you continue preparing fruit.

You hum thoughtfully at his words. You wouldn’t mind having a daughter. Or two. Eywa have mercy if you have another set of twins. Speaking of your children…

“Where are the boys?”

“Spider took them swimming, they’re at the heated pools in the jungle.” You make a noncommittal noise in acknowledgement.

“You know…with the kids busy, we have a little time to ourselves right now…” his hands travel from your belly, slowly tracing the length of your arms, before his hands rest in the crook of your neck. He starts massaging the base of your head with his thumbs. Your eyes close at the pleasurable sensation, moaning unexpectedly.

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” You tease him with a side eyed look. He grins down at you, eyes glazed over with desire. His gaze alone sends a pleasurable throb straight down to your core.

“Can’t help it darlin’. Seeing you like this, all big, belly swollen, and knowin’ it’s cuz of me? It does somethin’ to a man,” he bites the tip of your ear, and you let out an involuntary whimper; he knows all of your erogenous zones, and they become far more sensitive during pregnancy.

“Show me then my love, show me what I do to you.”

---

He has you trapped between his legs. Your back pressed to his chest as you lean back, head resting on his shoulder as you gasp between moans.

Your legs are draped over his thighs, keeping you spread. One hand gently massages the flesh of your breast, fingers occasionally pinching your pert nipple.

His other hand is busy at your core, 3 fingers deftly working their way in an out of your warm centre, making filthy squelches with each thrust. Your arousal coats his fingers and your thighs in inviting wetness. You are more than ready for him. But he loves playing with you, especially when you are at his mercy.

He removes his middle finger, bringing it to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud in your slick. His finger glides over with ease thanks to your gushing nectar.

“Oh fuck…Miles right there—YES!” Your voice is breathless as you beg him for release; the pleasure coursing through you burning hotter as you approach the precipice of desire.

He returns his fingers to your inviting warmth, your walls sucking him in greedily. His fingers meet no resistance with how wet you are. He fucks his fingers into you faster this time, the palm of hand slapping against your clit, sending you further into the throws of passion. The symphony of your pleasure comes crashing down on you; the orgasm hitting you with a resounding crescendo. A rough press to your clit has you squirting much to yours and his delight.

“That’s it baby, you always perform so well for me.” Miles whispers into your ear, nipping at the nape of your neck. The feeling of your inviting walls clenching around his fingers sends blood straight to his hardened aching cock.

This was always the ritual. Always would he bring you to glorious orgasm, before chasing his own pleasure. Even if the two of you had an argument, falling into something in line with hate sex, he made sure to prepare you well. No matter what, you were always at the forefront of his mind.

You rest your entire weight against him, chest heaving with each laboured breath. Your skin is sticky with sweat, pussy throbbing, your release leaking all over the floor. You feel Miles’ hardness press into your lower back. He presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Do you need a minute?” He asks ever to tenderly.

“For you my love? Never.” You turn yourself as much as you can, arms reaching for him. He understands what you want, immediately turning you to him. He pulls your arms around his neck, securing his behind your back, then crashing his lips to yours.

The kiss is bruising. He sucks on your lips, pressing his tongue to yours, drinking you in greedily as though you were destined to fade. He swallows the moan you release into his mouth. His hand moves to the base of your queue and he pulls you back.

Your eyes are mystified, glazed over from residual pleasure, but alight once more at the promise you see in his own eyes. They are dark with want, pupils dilated with heady need. He licks his teeth as he studies your face, a smirk forming on his lips.

He stands up, pulling you with him. You watch him curiously as he moves elsewhere, searching; there is an amusing flick of the tail when he finds it. He holds the item triumphantly in the air before coming back to you.

Ah. Rope.

He always did love restraints.

“You trust me, sweetheart?” You scoff, almost offended he needs to ask you for umpteenth time.

“Since our first night in the Dream my love. Always and forever.” Your smile is matched by his own.

“Hold your hands up, behind your head.” You do as instructed. The rope this not too thick, black and woven with expertise only a machine could craft. It was something you brought with you all those years ago. You figured it would be most useful; nothing hand crafted had yet matched it in quality. What you hadn’t expected was for your mate to use it in such, creative ways. Not that you complain; you were of course more than delighted to engage in his fantasies.

He fastens your wrists together tightly. The length is then wound around your neck, dropping between your breasts before he loops it around your mounds. It lowers through your cleavage and around the back; always he keeps it away from your belly. He nudges your legs apart. The rope is then wrapped around each hip and thigh.

He moves behind you then, pulling your fastened hands behind his head. His hands roam over you in reverence, from the swell of your breasts, to the expanse of your thighs, not a single inch of skin is left unworshipped. He gives the rope a final tug to make sure all is secure.

He kisses the side of your temple, and you feel him take a hold of your queue, joining it with his own. The low guttural moan he makes sends a spark of pleasure down your spine, straight to your cunt. You feel yourself becoming slick once more, not that you need even more prepping in the first place.

He grabs the rest of the rope in his right hand, before wrapping it around your front, nestling his arm between your breasts. He lowers his left hand until it reaches the back of your knee. You know without having to be told, and lift your leg. He holds your leg up as far as you can stretch; you are thankful to be so pliable after all these years. The position has your now aching core wide open, glistening in the fire light as you leak down your own leg.

You let out a soft moan as you feel the hardness of his naked cock rub against your slit, coating himself in your prior release. He lines himself up with your entrance, his head just breaching the opening.

“I love you, [Y/N],” he whispers into your ear before he buries himself in you to the hilt with one hard thrust. The sudden stretch burns in a delightful way, you hope you never get used to his size. You can’t help the sudden yelp of moan.

“Fucking hell baby, you’re so wet. And it’s all for me. My perfect little mate, with her perfect little cunt.”

The filth of his words causes a whimper to fall from your lips, but your walls clentch the scorching member inside you. Miles lets out a shaking laugh laced with pleasure.

“Pretty little thing you are. Always. So. Fucking. Perfect!” Each word is punctured with a hard thrust in and out of you. His long cock caressing the soft spongy flesh of your walls, finding that special spot that drives you wild and beyond reason. Greedily your walls clamp around him, begging his release and your own.

“You like that, darling? You’re always such a needy bitch in heat. Like it when your mate talks to you like that, huh?” He pulls on the rope, tightening the restraints all around you. The skin under the rope becoming warmer and reddening. You let out a straggled cry, mouth agape, you let your head fall back onto his shoulder.

The pleasure mounting in you growing with every passing moment. Your hands find purchase on his braid, holding on tight. He groans into your ear, the sound somewhere between a moan and a growl. It reverberates through your bones, to know your mate is so in the throes of pleasure, stokes fire in your own belly; your arousal covering his own.

He grabs your other leg, and suddenly you are hoisted into the air. You yelp with surprise, but he holds you firm. His pace is relentless, still thrusting up into your welcoming heat. Such display of strength only spurs you on further. There comes a dull ache in your legs from the strain of being held up, but also the tightness of the rope cutting into your joints.

The pain and pleasure mix wonderfully, pulling you over the edge and into your waiting orgasm. You moan loudly, almost a scream, Miles’ name spills from your lips in high pitch mewls. He doesn’t stop, fucking you through your orgasm to another, causing your to squirt all over his cock.

Tears flow freely from your eyes at the overstimulation, but by the Great Mother does it feel heavenly. Your ecstasy assaults him through the bond, finally sending him over the edge. His mouth bites down hard into your shoulder as he cums, shooting his seed up into your inviting warmth. Your walls clench him greedily, milking him till he is spent. There is a falter in his legs, you can almost feel the strain in his arms as he tries to keep you up as his pleasure wracks him to the core.

Finally though, he gently lowers you to the ground, falling onto his knees once your feet are firmly planted. You use him as leverage, lowering yourself before him. He rests his head to your shoulder, hands immediately finding your belly, resting them there.

Time passes slowly, filled with the smell of your sex and the sound of your joint laboured breaths. Slowly, Miles starts removing the rope from your person, throwing it somewhere out of sight once done. You collapse into his embrace once more, turning to your side as you lean against him. He cradles you in his arms, pressing delicate kisses to your hair.

You feel hot and sticky, but thoroughly fucked. You couldn’t be happier, tail wrapping around you both.

“You okay?” He asks, always, after any session in which he ties you up. His hands find your wrists, gently massaging the bruised skin.

“Always my love. Just a little worn out.” You close your eyes and lean into him more, never wanting this feeling to end. This peace and tranquillity.

---

Your mind drifts to the day, nearly 5 years ago, when you first landed on the island.

The Olo'eyktan and Tsahik came to greet you, as well as many members of the clan. They were surprised to see forest people; some never having seen any before. They gawked and stared unashamedly. They were more surprised though, by Spider’s presence. A Sky People child, painted with stripes, dressed in forest garb? What a spectacle!

The Tsahik had hissed when she caught sight of him, demanding that you take the Demon Child back from where you found it.

With great restraint you held your tongue, explaining instead that you cannot and would not go back. You wanted no part in the war with the Sky People, and neither did your mate. All you wanted was uturu. Some place far away from conflict. You explained that the Human boy, was in fact your mate's son, just without an Avatar body.

She was taken aback then, but grabbed your hand, noting the four fingers. She declared you too were of Demon blood, not true Na’vi. None of you were. Why should they let you stay? You looked to the Olo'eyktan then, pleading with your eyes. You gestured to Spider, saying that if he could adapt to live amongst Forest Na’vi, then you could all adapt, that you will adapt.

The Tsahik scoffed, walked around you three to inspect your tails. She stopped abruptly behind your mate, staring at his back. Her hand came to rest on the space between his shoulders. You saw the tenseness in his shoulders, wrapping his tail around his leg, hands clenched. He sends you a worried look, but you shrug, unsure of what she was doing.

You see her brows furrow. She removes her hand then, like she has been burnt, before returning to her mate’s side. She speaks low to him.

“That one, has been touched by Eywa.” The Olo'eyktan’s head shoots up as he stares at Miles, then looks back down to his mate for clarity.

“Touched?” He asks in shocked whisper. She clicks her tongue, annoyed at the events unfolding before her.

“Yes. Touched. Whether literal or spiritual, I cannot say for sure. But it is there. I feel it.” She squints at Miles, wholly distrusting of his person.

‘By the stars themselves, what could the Great Mother possibly have seen in this one?’ she thinks to herself.

“What of the boy? How will he live amongst us, if he cannot breathe our air?” The Tsahik gestures to Spider, who has been standing beside you awkwardly. You put a comforting hand around his shoulder, pressing him closer into your side.

“You need not worry. This Sky People-made mask will keep him safe.” You tap the mask gently. You’re not sure how much these people know of Human technology, but you don’t explain further. You send a silent thank you to Norm, Max and all the other scientists back home.

Just before your departure, you had decided Spider could not come with, intent to leave him behind, no matter how much it broke your heart. There would be no feasible way to replenish his oxygen packs supply. But Eywa smiled upon you. The humans, the engineers they were called, came forth with a new designed mask. It did not need oxygen packs like the old ones, instead filtered the air itself for safe breathing. It worked underwater too. It was sturdier too, strong as Na’vi bones they boasted.

Her eyes roam over you, then Spider, than up to your mate. She questions then, what skills you Forest folk could possibly bring to their shores. Your mate steps forward then, proudly stating he is a warrior, willing to fight anyone to prove his worth. The Olo'eyktan holds up his hand, stating that it wasn’t necessary, at least not yet.

The Tsahik’s eyes rake over you again, making you feel self-conscious. You see her gaze linger on your chest and your hips.

“You…Your patterns are of Forest folk, but your body is not.” It is more so a statement than a question, but demands an answer all the same.

“You are correct, Tsahik. My mother was true born Na’vi, of the Omatikaya clan. My father is…like my mate. Born of the Sky People.” She makes a disgruntled noise, but says nothing else.

After a moment of silence, she looks back up at her mate, and gives him the faintest of nods.

The Olo'eyktan announces then, that you three are welcome and are to be treated like their brothers and sisters. He warns them to be gentle with the Human, try not to gawk at him too much as there was still a village to look after. You thank him profusely, tears threating to fall at corner of your eyes. His smile is warm and welcoming, and the relief you feel is near palpable.

---

You and Miles decide to pack the food into a basket and bring it to the children. As the two of you are making your way along the beach to the path that would lead into the jungle, you are greeted by the sight of your two young sons running at you, Spider taking up the rear in a slow jog.

“Mama! Papa!” They yell in unison, arms outstretched as they crash into your legs.

“Good morning my little starlights! And to you too Spider, thank you so much for taking such good care of them,” You pick up Rawm as Miles does Taxun. Spider smiles up at the both of you, out of breath from the run.

“It’s no trouble [Y/N]. I already know what it’s like to have younger brothers.” He takes note of the basket Miles is holding, helping himself to the fruit inside. Your smile becomes a little sad at the memory of your family. You don’t have time to dwell on it though, as the kids notice Spider eating and immediately demand to be fed.

And so the 5 of you sit on the nearby rocks in the shade, enjoying the meats and fruits. It doesn’t last long, as the twins eat far too fast for your liking, before they start pulling Spider toward the ocean, wanting to swim in the cool water now that the sun was out. He of course obliges without fuss, and you giggle as you watch them splash about in the water.

The sun hangs high in the sky now, midday you presume. You enjoy the cool breeze kissing your skin, and the soft caress of your husband as he traces the glowing freckles on your back.

You are quiet, but there is gentleness in your eyes, a soft smile on your lips.

“Whatcha lookin’ at sweetheart?” Miles asks you, and you keep your eyes forward, smile widening.

“Our future.” Your voice is soft as the sand between your toes.

He hums in agreement, and kisses your check.

“Yeah…me too.”

---

You’re not sure how much time passes, perhaps not even an hour, when you here your name being called. You look to see the Olo'eyktan’s daughter coming to you hastily.

Your heart skips a beat at her urgency.

“[Y/N]! You must come quick! Follow me!”

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“Did you not hear the horns?!” She asks as she speeds off, expecting you to follow. You look to your mate, both of you have a confused expression. Neither of you heard it, too engrossed in watching your family. The kids probably didn’t hear anything amongst their own yelling and playing.

Quaritch whistles to the kids, who all immediately cease their frivolity, and run back to you two. Miles wordlessly grabs both twins in his strong arms, and you hand Spider the now empty basket. You make your way back as fast as you can waddle, explaining to the kids along the way.

---

You see an unexpected amount of people gathered at the front beach, though you can’t quite make out what’s going on.

You hear the whispers and murmurs of the clan, strangers they say; visitors.

You and Miles share a concerned look as you make your way forward. A sound carries on the wind, a bellow of a creature; and you know that sound anywhere.

Ikran.

Your heart starts pounding in your chest, your mind running a mile a minute. You don’t even think as you start forcefully pushing your way through the crowed, flanked by Miles still holding the twins and Spider.

“What’s going on Papa?” Rawm asks, clutching onto his father tightly.

You don’t hear his response as you finally make your way out front, seeing the backs of your Olo'eyktan and Tsahik.

You vaguely note the 5 ikran poised on the sand, looking none too pleased.

And when you see the Na’vi visitors talking to your Olo'eyktan, tears well in your eyes, and you let out a straggled cry.

“Sanctuary for my—” The visiting man's voice cuts short when he hears your cry, immediately finding your gaze. His eyes widen at the sight of you, flicking to your swollen belly for a split second, before coming back to your face. He lets out a shaky laugh, a grin splitting his face.

The woman at his side looks at him confused, before following his line of sight. Your eyes meet, and she falls to her knees, covering her mouth as she cries, tears streaming down her face.

You approach them slowly, not caring for the stares of the clan, nor the poignant look Tsahik Ronal is sending you.

You stand before your parents.

“Hello mother. Hello father. Oel ngati kameie.”

Neytiri jumps to her feet, wrapping in her arms tightly. Her cries burn your ears but you don’t care. They are matched only by your own. You feel your fathers arms wrap around you two, and you swear by the Great Mother, that this was perhaps the first time you’ve ever heard him cry. Your four siblings rush at you too, scrambling to get you into an embrace of their own.

You hear the tell-tale sigh of your Tsahik, and the low chuckle of Olo'eyktan Tonowari.

“I guess you have a lot of catching up to do, no?” He turns to the clan and addresses them. “Treat Jake Sully and his family as our brothers and sisters, just as you did with those who came before.” He calls for his eldest son and daughter, instructing them to teach Jake and his family just as they had taught you.

Your family untangles from one another, though your parents still have their hands on your shoulders. You take each of their hands in your own.

“[Y/N], I—”

“Hush, mother. Before you say anything, you too father, there is someone, two actually, you should meet first…” You pull them towards Miles. You turn your head to your siblings, gesturing with your head for them to follow too. You feel them tense, and a falter in their step. You gently squeeze their hands, releasing a shaking breath when you feel them squeeze back.

“Oel ngati kameie, Jake and Neytiri.” Miles says with perfect annunciation. They don’t say anything, but gesture to him with their hands. They are far too in shock, eyes instead focused on the two boys in his arms.

“Mom, dad, siblings…I’d like you to meet my sons, Rawm and Taxun,” you gesture to your boys accordingly, letting go of your parents hands, nervously threading your own fingers together in front of you.

You hear your siblings greet them with little waves, introducing themselves as their aunts and uncles. The boys are shy, and barely greet them back with tiny voices. Kiri runs to Spider, pulling him into a wordless hug as she cries into his shoulder.

“Hey kiddos, it’s nice to meet you. I’m your grandpa, Jake,” You father smiles at them big and goofy, tail swaying with joy.

“Pa Jake?” Rawm asks, bringing tears to the edge of your fathers eyes. He lets out a shaky laugh and nods.

“Yeah, that’s right. I’m your mama’s papa. Just like this man, is your papa.” He pats Miles on the shoulder, and the two share a look. You can see so much unspoken words exchange between them, Miles lowering his ears submissively. But your father gives him a kind smile. You can see in your mates eyes, even as he returns the smile, there is a hint of guilt there.

Your son surprises you then, reaching for your father, who happily takes him into his arms, smile widening.

You look to your mother then; filled with trepidation at her reaction. All of your anxiety shatters when you see her smile your boys.

“Hello little ones. I am your grandmother Neytiri. Your mama’s mama…” She wipes away a stray tear, and happily takes Taxun when he reaches for her.

She gently rocks him, patting his back with practiced ease. Your heart swells at the sight of your parents holding their grandchildren.

Neytiri’s eyes lift from your son then, to meet your mate’s gaze head on. She stares at him, studying him, but he doesn’t break the eye contact. She closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath, exhaling through her mouth. She opens her eyes and fixes him with a determined look.

“Oel ngati kameie, Miles Quaritch.” She nods to him, hand gesturing towards him in the proper greeting. “Thank you…for taking care of my daughter.”

His eyes widen at her words, and she smiles up at him, though it is small, as she hugs your son to her a little more tightly.

“Oel ngati kameie, [Y/N], my daughter…I am so happy, to see you, alive and well.” She touches a hand to your belly briefly, before returning to pat your sons back. “You too Spider…I am, pleased, to see you are doing well.”

Spider gives her a shy smile and a nod. Your brothers flank him, poking his sides and remarking on his larger frame, toned by years of swimming.

“Oel ngati kameie, mother, father, siblings. Welcome to our family.”

Everyone comes together, embracing in one giant hug, with you and Miles at the centre.

“Wherever we go, our family is our Fortress.” You father says.

“Sullys stick together,” Neteyam adds.

“And now, Quaritches too.” Your mother says, and with that, the dam breaks.

You cry tears of joy, safely nestled in the embrace of your family.

You couldn’t be happier.

End

---

<previous chapter> | 7 |

Author's Note: And that's a wrap people! Originally this was gonna end with Quaritch's "yeah me too" on the beach. But then it occurred to me, people would probably want a reunion with the family, so here we are!

Thank you so much to everyone who's followed along with what was supposed to be a horny one-shot that then turned into a mini series XD I look forward to seeing ya'll in my future works, so stay tuned!

---

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @lvangel98, @rsclopez, @onlyreadz @manymaria111, @kristeen31xxx @mechformers @olivia-the-weirdo @essenceinpink @villirios @rededfoxy @brutecuteness @perseny @fandom-garbage @ttreader @hihhasotherfixations @angel-of-silver369 @royallaufeyson @saltedcoffeescotch @the-hufflebird-girl @ding-dong-big-schlong @netherklutz @moneyoverl0v3 @@episodic8peace @touchedflowers @sarcasticrandy @lov3rluna @totesnothere04 @ab-haya @me-on-pluto @ducks118 @grimistangel @lovekeeho @itsyoboysparkel

[adoreeenina]

I Loved Her First

Relationships: (Recom! Miles Quaritch x Avatar! Reader) (Past! Human! Lyle Wainfleet x Human! Reader)

Summary: The day Quaritch first saw you, he knew you belonged to him, but then HE came along and took you away. He thought he would have to live the rest of his life on what could’ve been.

What if he got another chance? Another chance to be with you?

(Warning:Explicit sexual conduct. Youngerwoman/olderman. Age gap. Pining. Trauma. Self harm. PTSD. depression, anxiety, fighting, profanity, physical assault, Body issues, mention of past cheating, romantic/sexual tension, insecurities. Falling in love. Redemption arc. Canon deaths (but not really). Romance. Smut. Jealousy. Mention of suicide. Love in first sight. Feelings being revealed. Reader adopted Spider and Kiri. Spider and Kiri are adopted siblings)

(Will update soon!)

Teaser

[xylianasblog]

Love games

Pairings: Recom Quaritch x FemSully Reader

Summary: It was always just a game to him, he was never really going to let you go. A game so simple so fun, there was room for much at stake even just this once.

Warnings: MDNI, predator/prey, fingering, p in v, mutual pining, dirty talk, I think that is it

A/n: I feel like this wasn’t my best at all, I wanted to try something a little different but I still hope you guys enjoy it!

꒦꒷❀꒷꒦ ❀✿❀꒦꒷❀꒷꒦MDNI ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦❀✿❀ ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦

It was like a game to him, a game of cat and mouse. The never-ending battle of fun. Maybe lust? Who knows you were never one to question it, ponder the thoughts as you ran, ran as fast as your legs could carry you.

He always found you, you never got away, but maybe you liked this sort of game.

It was a game of trust, or maybe it wasn’t? Maybe it was the level of lust. Nonetheless you ran, sweet words of the man you were running from playing in your mind.

“If you can run and hide, only if you can survive will I let you go free, sweetheart.” Your ears perked up, back straight in attention. The easiest thing to be offered, he must be out of his mind, “But, if I catch you, if I find you. Say goodbye to your family, cuz I’ll be keeping ya.”

Those words were so heavy so enticing, you found yourself contemplating. You’d surely win, you knew this forest like the back of your hand. You’d make it out alive because truly you had no reason to not survive. At least that’s what you told yourself, two weeks since he captured you, have you been playing this game, yet he’s never touched you.

You weren’t dumb and you definitely weren’t naive you saw the way he eyed you with such carnal need. You felt it, the tension, it made your skin crawl. Such a desperate look, he only wanted a taste. Maybe more than that, maybe he wanted you as his mate. The thought made you shiver, the slightest flicker of desire settled in the pit of your stomach. Each step felt heavier and heavier as you ran.

You were determined to win this time; you were determined to survive. Your running came to a stop as you rested back against the tree, chest heaving. Your ears perked up trying to listen for every sound, it was quiet, the type of silent that had your body on high alert.

Eerily quiet, it felt so bad, bad enough you felt the dread seep into your bones. Taking a mall step away from the tree, the unsettling feeling you wanted it to go away. Your step was quiet, you were as silent as a mouse, so focused on the task at hand you didn’t have time to process the hand.

Not just any hand no, his hand wrapped tightly around the front of your neck as he brought your back to his chest. “Found ya.” Was all you heard.

Your stomach did a flip, the desire deep inside burned to life. Your body was well aware of the male, too aware of him. This time was different, this time you felt it. His grip on your neck as his other hand traced the inside of your thigh, your body froze. “You thought you could run? Thought you could hide? Babygirl..” he whispered as he kissed the back of your neck. “I’d find you every time.” That was no threat, not even close. It was a promise, one so deep you felt it in your soul.

Your body shuddered as you felt his fingers rub over your loincloth, your slick barely leaking through. The chase always made you horny, but this was the first time he’s touched you. His grip on your neck never loosened yet it also never tightened, his free hand now using his fingers to push your bottom side. Long slender fingers slipping between your folds, teasing your clit. Your brain couldn’t process anything other than the feel of his fingers teasing your sensitive nub.

Your legs nearly buckled once you felt his push into your entrance with his slick-covered fingers, your walls instantly tightened around his fingers as his thumb teased your sensitive nub. “Look at ya, you’ve been waiting for this huh? Ya pussy been begging for me.”

You opened your mouth to disagree, denying every word but you couldn’t, your body wouldn’t let you. You wanted this, craved this. Wanting to know what it’d be like to be fucked dumb by this gorgeous man.

Your hands grabbed at his forearms as he continued to fuck into you with his fingers, your soft moans and cries filled his ears. His body was on fire, wanting nothing more than to be buried deep inside you. His cock throbbed in his bottoms, the tightness making him growl in frustration.

Without moving you to push he undid your loincloth, watching it fall to the ground before his hand moved to undo his cargo pants. A loud groan slipped past his lips as he freed himself from his restraints, your body burned in anticipation at the feeling of his cock pressed against the curvature of your ass.

Your body couldn’t protest, the words wouldn’t leave your lips. Your body begged for his touch, overall to be fucked.

He pressed your body up against the tree, his hands moving down to grab at your ass, watching the way his length pressed against your folds before disappearing inside you.

You moaned loudly as a deep growl rumbled from his chest, he pressed into you more as he wrapped his hand back around your neck. “Looks like I finally caught you, you’re mine now sweetheart.”

Taglist: @pandoraslxna @neteyamsoare @criticallybella @sunfyresrider @neteyamsyawntu @tiredmamaissy @headsincloud9 @etherialblackrose @blue-slxt @justcaptiannoodles @neteyamyawne @oakbuggy @hotdsworld @plooto @itchaboi-itchyboy @eywaite @quicktosimp @luvv4j4ybe11 @cardi-bre91

[backmuscles21]

In The Open

Recoms x Reader

Summary: Literally a few small blurbs of the different times your lovers have caught you being fucked by your other lovers. I want to start writing for poly recoms cause I've been reading that and there isn't enough and it's a hyper fixation so imma flood the market, I love poly shit. I wanted to get a feel for them first so this is just a short guy and I'll hopefully write something much longer and more detailed soon.

Warnings: Smut, semi-public sex, explicit language, public sex

You were on the bench in the recom-only gym, your knees and elbows resting on the bench as Lyle held your hips and fucked into you. He was relentless too, your head hung low as you moaned out loudly. Lyle stared at the large gym mirrors to watch as he fucked you, it only made him hornier, somehow. He lifted his one leg up to rest on the bench to thrust into you harder.

Then the door opened and some other recoms walked in.

“Dude what the hell,” Lopez said.

“You started the show without us?” Walker laughed out.

“Hell yeah,” Lyle chuckled.

Prager who stood there shocked, finally moved, he moved in front of your face.

“That good baby? Is Lyle fucking you good?”

You nodded.

Lyle grabbed your braid and pulled your head back and you cried out.

“Words buttercup.”

“It feels so good. Lyle’s cock feels so good, so deep.”

Prager’s hand caressed your cheek, “you look fucked dumb baby. Think you can handle another after Lyle?”

“Maybe. She’s cummed four times already.”

“Explains why she can barely hold herself up,” Lopez laughed.

“Just wait till the Colonel sees this,” Walker chuckled sitting down on a different bench.

Funny enough even though you were dating all of the recoms, you did still enjoy a semblance of privacy. However, that is thrown out of the window with the number of times you are engaged in sexual activity in public spaces and your other lovers enter. Like the time Zdog decided that eating you out on the canteen table was a great idea. They all knew what they did was no secret, they were worried about privacy when places they were doing these things were in recom only areas.

Your hand was gripping onto the hairs of Zdog’s mohawk as her face was pushed in between your thighs. Your back was resting on the corner of the table and your legs were resting over Zdog’s shoulders and onto her back. Your head was thrown back and pressed into the silver metal table, it would’ve been freezing if you were sweating currently. The door opened to Lyle, Miles and Ja, they stopped in their tracks, you didn’t hear a thing until you heard Lyle snicker.

Your tired eyes opened and you used your abs to slightly lift your head and shoulders off the table to see who entered.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Miles chuckled.

Ja’s face was a bright purple, the blush was so deep on this poor boy, he’d never walked in on one of his lovers in the act. He knew about it, he knew it was happening around the base, and his lovers talked about it. He had just never experienced it and this poor innocent little boy couldn’t take it. He had watched his lovers fuck you before and had fucked you while the others watched but that was all planned, it was never like this.

Lyle clapped his hands on Ja’s shoulder, “too much for you baby boy.”

Ja shook his head, “just caught off guard.”

“Mhm,” Miles said as he came up to you and squatted down by your face and you moved your head over to look at him.

Zdog knew exactly what she was doing, she was playing a game, and she was holding you back until the right moment. As Miles brushed some hair out of your face and went to speak, probably something very degrading. Zdog made you cum, your eyes squeezed shut and your head moved closer to your body. Your hand gripped Zdog’s hair harder and gripped the side of the stainless-steel table, Miles smirked at your reaction, all the boys did, they knew what just happened.

“You really know what you're doing Z. Always waiting for the right moment,” Miles said.

Zdog pulled away from your dripping pussy and smiled at Miles before she went to kiss you, forcing you to taste yourself. Your hands wrapped around her neck as you kissed her, your tongue licking up her chin, you only now can hear the sounds of Ja’s sweet soft moans. You open your eyes to look at what is happening, Zdog moves from your mouth to kiss down your neck.

Currently, Lyle had his hand down Ja’s pants and was stroking him to heaven, the poor boy was so turned on and very hard but couldn’t bring himself to touch himself, so Lyle did it for him. Zdog sat you up and removed your RDA standard issue tank top and helped you take your tight sports bra off.

“So, which one of you boys wants her first?”

Better yet, everyone's favourite time was when you were all going on your first mission as recoms and you all agreed that there was to be no funny business. But Lopez can’t keep his hands to himself and as they are taking off, he already has two fingers in you. Some looked at him with a ‘really?’ face and others, Lyle, had the biggest smirk.

Lopez leaned into your ear, “better stay quiet, don’t want any of the little guys to hear.”

His snicker and his command made you squirm and he knew it too, he knew that’d get you going, he wanted the human pilots to hear and see. He wanted those humans to see that he could get pussy on the reg and they were still fucking their fists at night.

“Colonel gave us strict orders to follow and you can’t keep your hands to yourself for five minutes?” Mansk said from across Lopez.

Lopez stared at his fanged smile in the reflection of Mansk’s glasses, “she’s just sitting here, lookin’ all pretty, what did you expect me to do?”

“Listen to direct orders?”

“Like he wouldn’t fuck her now if he could?”

“We all would, but we have responsibilities. Did you not get enough of her last night?”

Lopez’s fingers still curled within you as your hips thrusted to make his fingers move more, your eyebrows were pressed together as you could feel pleasure building.

“Look at that, I’ll never get enough. How could any of y’all stay soft seeing this.”

“Because we fucked her last night.”

“I mean so did I, but this face never leaves my thoughts.”

“Geez, you guys are worse than Lyle,” Walker spoke up with a laugh.

“Hey, I mean it is nice, I’ll side with Lopez on that. I’ll always get bricked up for that.”

“You know, as much as I enjoy this and getting off is amazing. We have a job to do and I’d rather not be horny all mission,” you panted out.

“Fine, you win,” Lopez pulled his fingers out and pulled his mask down enough to suck his fingers before placing the mask where it originally was. “But this ain’t over when we get back ooo boy.”

Even better that time you all had a whole bunch of medical appointments after you first woke up but decided that fucking was a great idea before that. You were all so used to it as humans that waking up in your Na’vi bodies didn’t change anything. Going to physicals with multiple bite marks and hickies and bruises, made all the scientists nervous, they questioned you all about it. Of course, none of you told them what actually happened.

[mechformers]

Ma Miles

Summary:

When your son is taken, left behind by your Toruk Makto, you desperately go on the hunt for your boy. Knowing who took him, knowing that nothing good awaits him, you search high and low through the battlefield of Pandora, praying that Eywa will guide your way.

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Recom Miles Quaritch x Na'vi Reader

Tags: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Falling in Love, Misunderstandings, Redemption Arc, Slow Burn, Canon Violence, Canon deaths (but not really lol), Romance (because let's face it, Miles Quaritch is a sappy romantic deep, deep down)

(🌿🦚 No schedule - dealing with life 🦚🌿)

Chapter index below cut:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22 - Coming soon

[foxigemini]

Is This Love?

Pairing: Recom!Quaritch x Recom!Fem Reader

Summary: Quaritch and you are just sleeping together...right?

Warnings: Possesive!Quaritch, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Soft Sex.

"I’m coming over tonight."

That was the order in Colonel Quaritch's eyes as he looked at you when the two of you stepped out of the helicopter. Not a question. An order. All you were to Miles Quaritch was a willing pussy who never said no.

And you didn’t protest. Cause you wanted it, wanted him. Quaritch had become your addiction.

You’d met him six months ago when you both woke up on Pandora as recoms. At first, he had questioned why you were there since you weren't a part of his old team. General Ardmore explained that she wanted a third party present, someone unbiased who didn't have the history with Jake Sully the way he and the others had.

Quaritch had huffed at that at first, and refused to say anything to you except orders. But something changed along the way, when he saw how skilled and capable you were in a fight. You were agile like a cat, slithering around your enemies like a snake. After a few weeks, you were all Quaritch could think about at night. How much he wanted to mate with you and make you his.

At first, you were certain Colonel Quaritch hated you. He barely even looked at you when he gave you orders. But then, after your first fight with a group of Na'vi, something changed. He was always nearby, stalking around you like a cat on heat, always giving you that deadly, charming smile of his. And you fell for it, fell for his damn charm and charisma and pompous personality. Before you knew it, he was taking you from behind in your chamber after a mission. He had followed you home, and you hadn't even questioned it. Just silently let him inside, and the moment the door closed, he was on you, crashing his lips against yours in a needy, desperate kiss.

*

"Fuck, Quaritch," you moaned as he snapped his hips, hitting that sweet spot deep inside that made you quiver. You were lying flat on your stomach, and Quaritch was fucking you from behind, pounding your pussy ferociously as he held your tail in a tight grip. You had pondered whether you should finally say, no thanks, see you around. But then your fucking pussy betrayed you when you saw his hard dick and thought about how damn good he was with it. Without a word, he had yanked you around, climbed on top of you, and slammed into you from behind, grunting with satisfaction as he bottomed out in your tight pussy.

His hand grabbed your braid and yanked your head back, holding both your tail and hair in a hard grip. You gasped and curled your fingers into the sheets as Quaritch took you with such force you were thrown straight into an overwhelming orgasm. Your vision blurred as pleasure consumed your body, and you screamed, clenching around his cock pounding your dripping pussy.

Quaritch pumped through your climax, chasing his own as he watched your orgasm shake your body violently. Soon, he felt his balls tightening and growled as he rammed your cunt with one last, deep thrust and emptied his sticky load inside you. He collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily. You laid there, feeling his weight on your body until you both had calmed down from your high.

A minute later, he was already dressed and ready to go.

"I don’t think I can do this anymore," you said, lying on top of the covers naked, watching as Quaritch sat at the foot of the bed, tying his shoes.

"What?" Quaritch looked at you and laughed. "Don’t be ridiculous."

"I’m serious. I want something more. I don’t want to be just…a fuck buddy."

"And I told ya from the start. I ain't looking for a relationship."

"Yeah, I know, but-"

"Look. We have a good setup here. We’re fucking great in bed together. No goddam feelings getting in the way. You really wanna give that up?"

Quaritch smiled, seeing the look on your face that told him everything he needed to know.

"Good. See ya in the morning," he said and left.

Sighing, you fell back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Dammit, he really had you hooked. Yes, you wanted more, but you didn’t want to lose him either. Having a piece of him was better than having nothing at all.

*

"What the hell was that?!" Quaritch slammed the door shut behind him, his fists clenching and jaw gritting as he glared at you.

"What?" You looked at him, confused.

"The way you risked your life back there! For a fucking Na'vi kid?!"

You stared at Quaritch in disbelief.

"You really think I would let an innocent child be collateral damage in this so-called war against the Na'vi?"

Quaritch raised an eyebrow, his ears flicking back and forth. "So, what? Are you suddenly questioning what we're doing here?"

"I know exactly why we're here. We are invading their planet, Quaritch. THEIR planet. And you all didn't expect them to fight back? Tell me, Quaritch. If it were the other way around, we would do anything to protect Earth, wouldn't we?"

Quaritch glared at you and clenched his jaw, but didn't say anything.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

Quaritch sighed and rubbed his eyes. It was hopeless arguing with you. The two of you would never see this from the same point of view. But fuck it, if he was letting you have the final word.

You gasped in shock when you were suddenly swirled around and pushed against the wall by Quaritch's strong hands locking your arms above your head.

"You're mine, darlin', and I'm not going to lose ya because of some savages you feel obligated to save," he muttered.

You stared up into the fiery determination in his yellow eyes, feeling a heat rush from the pit of your stomach down to your sex. Fuck, why did he always have this effect on you?

"So what? Are you gonna stop me from doing my job? Keep me here, locked up and safe?" you snarled and glared up at him. It wasn't working though, when his tall and broad frame loomed over you. Damn, why did he have to be so large, making you feel so small and tiny and getting so fucking turned on by it?

"That's a good idea, darlin'," he smirked, and you rolled your eyes and let out a soft chuckle.

"You're hopeless, you know that?"

"I know," Quaritch replied with a smug grin and lifted you up around his waist. Gasping, you wrapped your arms around him and giggled as you looked into his eyes. Quaritch looked back at you with a soft gaze you'd never seen before, and your smile faded away as the tension in the air grew serious. Your gaze flickered between his eyes and lips as you lifted your hand and cupped his face. Dipping your head down, you pressed your lips to his, kissing him softly. Quaritch started walking back towards the bed, his lips never leaving yours as you quickly undressed each other and fell down on the bed with him on top of you.

Quaritch kissed his way down your body, took each nipple into his mouth, and sucked on them tenderly. You moaned with pleasure and smiled with delight as you arched your back and pushed your breasts closer to him. Quaritch smirked up at you before his lips kissed down your belly until he nestled his face between your thighs, tongue licking up and down your slick folds. You moaned and grabbed his head, bucking your hips against his face as his lips and tongue brought you to climax.

A growl of appreciation rumbled in Quaritch's throat as he tasted your arousal and felt how wet he made you. His dick was painfully hard, twitching with need to feel your tight pussy around him and fill you to the brim with his cum.

Fuck, he needed you now.

Pushing you over to your side, he laid down behind you and lifted your leg as he pushed inside you. You moaned as he stretched you out and filled you up, turned your head to him, and kissed him deeply as he started thrusting at a slow and gentle pace. The kiss and his thrusting grew more and more passionate, his grunts filling the room as he rutted his hips against your ass.

"Oh, Miles!" you gasped, and he growled in response, sliding an arm underneath your body while wrapping his other around you. He hugged your body tightly against his, snapping his hips against your ass, chasing his orgasm as he felt the ball of pleasured heat tighten his core.

Quaritch was deliciously rough and loving all at once, his roughness bringing you swiftly to orgasm as his cock hit your g-spot with every thrust. The two of you came simultaneously, your body trembling in his strong embrace as he held you tight against him, his hips bucking a final time as he emptied his seed deep inside your fluttering pussy.

"I love you," you mumbled through heavy breaths with closed eyes as you slowly came down from the high of pleasure.

Quaritch sighed and closed his eyes, inhaling your scent as he buried his nose into your neck.

"I love you too," he replied, finally tearing down the walls to his emotions and allowing himself to love.

[tojisun]

our shallow graves — 02

recom miles quaritch x recom fem reader

!! smut (between fwb outside of main pair) - minors dni; heat (as theme); mean quaritch; power imbalance; reference to (made up) past; worldbuilding; fast slow-burn; switching povs; weapons; reader adopts a nickname (callsign) which gets used // 5.1k words

: luvv writing from a chara’s pov n not just the reader’s <33; my bff wanted a love triangle but noo there would never be, i swear; replaying lady gaga and thenbhd as i write this; i hope u guys would luv this!!

↦ hydra - recom machine gun (not the door gun in the samsons); y70 - bullpup rifle/skel bullpup

prev // m.list // next - tbp

camaraderie with the colonel seemed to deteriorate overnight. your only saving grace is that it seemed like no one understands why his slight recognition for your talents evaporated quickly, the team having been reduced to shooting you with concerned glances whenever quaritch continues to ice you out.

you wanted to believe that it didn’t bother you much, but the taste of failure sits heavy on the tip of your tongue. quaritch is your superior, someone you were willing to interact with at an arm’s length, but now, even that seems impossible. 

“give him time,” walker says as you two enter the gun range, modified with an open ceiling to allow your na’vi bodies to breathe without the need for the respirator. “he’s probably still pissed because recon was delayed but c’mon now, we need extra time to take on the hellhole pandora’s about to be.”

you hum, your mind far away, as you begin to line up in one of the shooting stalls. you feel bare without your hydra but walker insisted on practicing with the Y70. 

“for good time’s sake!” she said, laughing when you rolled your eyes at her, calling her out on the fact that she only preferred the rifle because it was what she was exceptional at. 

your tail swishes behind you slowly before stilling, suspended in the air – a perfect imitation of your focus. you purge your mind of all thoughts, steadying your breath as you gaze at the moving targets. thrill runs down your spine at the first fire, the bullet going through the head of the target in a clean, single shot right at its temple. it is almost too natural how you were able to fire off the other bullets, muscle memory kicking in as your years of experience rush back to you, engulfing you with a single focus.

clean shot upon clean shot; head, heart, lungs – every vital organ and artery that you were aiming at were hit. it is like nothing existed in that moment, not your new life or your repeating nightmares of your death or even quaritch. it is just you and that rifle, against the world.

it was the first real taste of freedom you ever had from the moment you woke up in pandora, fifteen years after the war. 

walker stalks towards you with a grin, her rifle slung on her shoulder, looking smug as she shows you her perfect tally. you grin at her, feeling your tail finally untense, swishing around in languid satisfaction. 

“look at you with the perfect shots,” she says, dramatically whistling as though she wasn’t a better marksman than you are. 

“i have a good teacher,” you reply, winking at her. she chuckles, shaking her head, and you wish she had her braids down just so you can see them bump against each other. 

“and you are welcome.” walker places a hand on her chest before bowing theatrically, making you erupt in hearty giggles. 

comfortable silence settles as you two walk back to your quarters, ears flicking at each sound that rumbles from the belly of the compound. 

the sensitivity of your heightened senses brings you back to the night the colonel caught you sneaking out of mansk’s room, pure anger shimmering within his beautiful golden eyes and poison coating his hissed-out words. you do not know what set him off – you do not want to believe that it simply had been because you and mansk fooled around, not when quaritch has done worse.

(in your brief encounter with the human colonel quaritch, you have seen them together only once. the babe was swaddled in thick blankets, leaving only tufts of sandy hair visible to curious eyes. 

you tried not to linger when you saw how the colonel walked around with the child in his arms, cradled gently, carefully, his usually-stern face melting into something kind. into something human.

the harbinger of destruction. a father.

you couldn’t wrap your head around the man. not even as you watched in silence, obscured from his line of sight, as he nuzzled his nose on the boy’s forehead, breathing him in.

pandora’s real first human, a boy blessed by eywa, and there he was, held in the hands of the man who would threaten her balance.)

“maria,” you call, slowing down your steps and turning to look at your friend.

walker hums, tilting her head to meet your gaze. “what’s up?”

“do you, uh, know what happened to the kid?” you didn’t need to specify who it is that you meant. 

she stops walking, her brows furrowing in hesitant confusion. you lick your lips, wondering if you might’ve overstepped, after all, walker may be your friend, but her loyalties will always be with the colonel. even back in hell’s gate, she always separated her friendship with you from her duty – it felt like she constantly lived two different lives. 

“it’s just that i can unwind with you,” she used to say, huffing when the clips she used to pin her bun got lost within the gelled strands of her hair. you would pull her to your bed, chuckling quietly, before taking over, gentle hands familiar with her hair like it was yours that you were grooming. 

“why do you ask?” walker responds, twisting so she can fully face you.

you shrug. “i don’t know,” you say, a half-truth. “the memories are coming back to me slowly and one of them is him.”

walker remains quiet, studying you with pursed lips and narrowed eyes, before a sigh creeps out of her lips. you feel your heart lighten up, your body uncoiling from the tension, and you shoot her a small smile, grateful for her trust. 

“i dunno, to be honest,” she says as you two begin walking again, your steps this time are more languid. you two don’t entertain the gawking humans who scurry out of the way as you and walker make your way back to your rooms, busy murmuring to each other.

“they probably sent him back to somewhere in terra where relatives could take care o’him.”

you grunt, nodding, choosing not to prod any more. 

just before the two of you can part ways to enter your respective rooms, lopez comes running down the hallway, hollering your names.

“les’ go! colonel’s back from the meeting, and word is that we get our mission today!”

“thank fuck for that!” walker whoops. she meets your eyes. “rico, come on!”

you try to ignore the sudden swoop of paranoia that settles in your stomach, choosing instead to follow as walker and lopez run to meet with the others. you had hoped that you would’ve been able to fix whatever it was that happened between you and the colonel before the mission, but it seems like you don’t have that privilege anymore.

it seems like with quaritch, you don’t get mercy. 

-------

just like what lopez said, the colonel returned with orders from the brass that you all would be sent out soon – the omatikaya stronghold changed upon the return of the humans, and now you are all tasked to draw jake sully out. you are all given a week to prepare for pandora’s beasts – you are aware that they meant the na’vi more than the actual animals roaming the lush jungle.

recon was cancelled, the new schedule no longer permitted such opportunity; the general had, instead, ordered your squad to move in and navigate the hard way. you tried not to shrink at the withering look that quaritch shot you as he mentioned that. mansk shifted close, as though to show that he stood with you even against the colonel’s seething glare, but it seemed like it was the wrong thing to do as quaritch only seemed to grow angrier. 

you tried your best not to react, but your tail dropped, coiling around your thigh in the face of the colonel’s disapproval. you are too ashamed to look at the others, not wanting to see their own disappointment or even their pity so you kept your eyes on quaritch, using his authority to hide from the attention that your squad was giving you.

the meeting reaches its end, the colonel ordering wainfleet and zdinarsik to take over. mansk hovers, falling into step with you as you both move to leave the room together when the colonel’s voice stops you.

“rico, you stay. mansk, y’r dismissed.”

mansk shoots you a quick glance before nodding at the colonel and leaving with the rest. wainfleet had taken the lead as they all marched out with zdinarsik covering their back, the taller recom nodding at you upon meeting your gaze before closing the door behind her.

there is silence in the war room as you stand still, waiting for quaritch to make the first move. you rack your mind for another fuck up that he can berate you with, but nothing comes up, leaving you grasping at nothing but the bubbling anxiousness gnawing at you. 

“i suggested to general ardmore that we bench you, rico.” he raises his hand at your visceral reaction – your jaw falling open as you flinch, protests about to slip from your lips, as a now-aborted step almost draws you close to him. “listen to me first, corporal.”

you blink at the realization that his voice doesn’t denote any malice, the rich baritone is painfully neutral, and you think, then, how hearing his indifference just stings a whole lot more. 

you remain silent, watching with bated breath as quaritch pulls a chair out and motions for you to sit down. your legs feel like lead as you fall into it with no grace, your body going taut with tension when the colonel takes the one just in front of you. 

the space between the two of you is decent – it is the normal distance – but you can’t help but feel the warmth emitting from his bigger figure, almost like your body is singing for him. you try to breathe through your mouth, afraid that you will get a whiff of his scent, reducing you into a puddle of uncertainty and need. 

you blink your glassy eyes up at him, trying to focus, to listen, but it is like all those times that quaritch pushed you away had made you hypersensitive about him. he is all you can focus on; past the need to prove to him of your worth, he is all that fills you up. the way he smells, the way his eyes study you, the way his voice rips through the static – you want all of it. 

heat builds up in the pit of your stomach.

fuck. 

“you doin’ ok there?” the colonel asks, his indifference melting as worry bleeds into his tone. 

“i, uhm,” you begin, your voice faltering. you try to reel in your mind, grinding your teeth to snap you from your trance. 

“yeah.” you clear your throat, breathing in shakily. “i mean, yes sir.”

quaritch grunts, his eyes still pinned on you. “this is exactly why i wanted to leave you behind.”

that brings you out of the haze, your attention snapping back into a singularity. “permission to ask why, sir?”

quaritch sighs. “the science pukes mentioned how y’r still lagging behind. kid, i’m gonna be honest with you – i can’t afford a weak link.”

his words feel like knives carving into you. you’ve always thrived in your capabilities – you wouldn’t have gone far if you weren’t good, if not one of the best, and yet, in his eyes, your single fumble has cost so much. 

“pandora is gonna eat you up and spit you out – well, it already did, otherwise, you wouldn’t be here. and yet, general ardmore still insisted that we take you.” 

you watch as the colonel leans over, eating up the miniscule distance between yourselves to peer at you. “tell me, rico. just why are you so important to her?”

you wish you have the answer; you wish you have anything to give to him, to make sense of your own purpose, but nothing comes up. it is like you’re constantly floating around, untethered, and yet severely burdened at the same time. they tell you how the general favours you, and yet she has yet to tell you that herself, leaving you alone in navigating your position amongst the other recoms. 

the loneliness doesn’t stop eating at you.

“colonel, i really don’t know,” you finally utter, breaking eye contact to stare at the ground. 

quaritch clicks his tongue. “no, there’s gotta be somethin’ i’m missin’. i read your files, you know that?” he grins meanly when your eyes snapped back to him. “oh yeah, i did. and imagine my goddamn disappointment when it showed me nothin’ noteworthy.”

he stands up, his voice gaining strength, and you realize that you can now see his fury in its entirety.

“yeah, you’ve got a way with flying, but that skill’s practically useless unless we can get our own banshees. and even then, they ain’t machines – your skill’s obsolete. y’ve got a way with guns, sure, but so do the rest of my squad; it ain’t just lyle who’s got a great shot, after all. and yeah y’r hand-to-hand combat is good, but it ain’t the best.”

you feel tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as quaritch continues his admonishment. you feel like everything that you are is suspended in the air, carelessly peeled off and overturned until you are nothing but your skin and bones.

“y’know what i saw?” the colonel asks in a barely-contained snarl. 

you do not reply, but it doesn’t matter to him anyway. 

“i saw how y’r just a goddamn nobody because if you were any better, i would’ve taken you in before. so tell me rico, just what the hell are you doin’ here?”

you do not know what urged you to do it, but next thing you know you are standing mere inches before the colonel, breaching his personal space to poke at his chest. “i don’t need to prove myself to you,” you hiss. 

(it was a lie. after all, it was all you wanted to do. for him to acknowledge you. for him to – what do the na’vis call it? – see you.)

quaritch scoffs, pausing, before he lunges forward to grip your jaw, forcing your head to tilt up and making you look at him. you feel your breath leave your lungs, the blood rushing to your ears and deafening you. anything else seemed to stop, leaving you alone with your petering rage as you gaze up at him.

his breath tickles your lips and you gasp, soundless, feeling the desire exploding in your chest. you do not know what it is that he originally wanted to do because in the next heartbeat, just a slight stutter, all you feel is his lips meeting yours. 

quaritch devours your hiccuped squeak, his searing lips moving against your own, pulling out more of the little desperate sounds from your throat only for them to be swallowed hungrily by him. the kiss is hot, messy, but you can’t help but be obsessed with it.

his scent fills you up, settling deep in your chest and making you throb with want. you grip his shirt, pulling him closer, desperate to touch more of him. but at the feeling of your hands, quaritch rips his lips from yours and scurries to back away from you.

you stand there, your chest heaving as you catch your breath, feeling your lips tingle from his kiss. you watch as his face crumples at the realization of what he’s done before it reverts back into faux stoicism, as though he isn’t affected by the kiss. as though he doesn’t feel the same burning desire that engulfed you whole.

“colonel-”

“no fraternizing with a squad member,” quaritch utters before he lifts his hand up to rub at his lips with the back of his palm.

“oh, so now we’re following the golden rule?” you mutter, the words bubbling out before you can stop them. 

you know that you crossed a line at the mention of what he’s done with socorro but you are too filled with a blazing storm of conflicting feelings, rendering you uninhibited as they clash in your chest and drain you of all your energy. you feel yourself shake at the intensity of your emotions – of your yearning – but the colonel continues to stand far away. far from your grasp.  

he’s made his decision. 

“get going, corporal. y’r dismissed.”

you run out of the room, not caring of the way the tears slip from the corners of your eyes to drench your cheeks, and pretending that you cannot smell the faint scent of the colonel sticking to you.

pretending that you do not feel something in you break. 

-------

looking for mansk was the easy part. not using him to drown out the weight of your conflicting feelings, that was the hard part. 

mansk has taken you in his arms, cradling you close as you wept on the crook of his neck. he was silent, like he already knew what it is that aches you, and you wonder how could he. you barely knew why you feel betrayal sit in the pit of your stomach; why you feel so drawn to quaritch – attuned to the sound of his voice and the staccato of his footsteps.

why do you ache for his touch?

if it is heat, if it is all biology, mansk does a good enough job in extinguishing the flames of painful need curling within your blood. and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from seeking out bigger and rougher hands and a gruffer voice, the southern accent looping around the vowels, making your stomach clench with desire.

quaritch is all that you’ve ever wanted ever since he first called your name, unknown familiarity sinking in your chest like a rock chucked to the ocean – the paradox is a metaphor of your feelings. funny, isn’t it?

“i don’t understand,” you murmur, sniffling as you pull your head from mansk’s shoulder. you wipe at your eyes, groaning at the futility of it when fresh tears fall and drench your cheeks anyway. 

mansk remains silent, his hands have fallen from your back to grasp at your wrists, the warmth from his palms not doing anything to soothe your nerves.

“it’s like he needed that little blip in my performance to finally rationalize the hate he feels for me, and then it just didn’t stop,” you continue, breathing in shakily. “and i wish i could just ignore him but, fuck, i can’t.”

you shake yourself from mansk’s touch, standing up from his bed to pace around his room. the pads of your feet are quiet on the metal floors and you ignore the shot of coolness that comes with every step. your braids, chopped just below your jaw, frame your face with stray strands sticking on your damp cheeks despite your frantic moving. 

“he’s there and he’s nowhere at the same time, devin. like, i try my best to avoid him but he’s always a consistent presence in my life. it doesn’t fucking matter if he’s ignoring me, not when he’s always in the same room, within the same space.” your voice raises, scratching your throat as anger and hurt bubble up, ever-so expanding until you are grasping at the remnants of your rationality. 

“and i want him. i feel like dying when i’m not with him and he-” you pause, a choked sob getting punched out from your lungs. mansk startles, clambering from his bed to hover by your side, not really closing in but standing just near enough that you can see the downturn of his ears, his worry etched on his face. 

“he doesn’t feel the same way, dev.” 

you crumble, feeling lightheaded from the explosion of anguish burning at your seams, and mansk finally embraces you. 

the first kiss was hesitant, chapped lips meeting bruised ones, and he doesn’t move until you are pawing at his shirt and tugging him close. mansk falls into his role easily, nipping your bottom lip as a distraction which you take eagerly.

quaritch’s snarl from many nights ago creep into your mind, his southern accent tearing through the sudden buzz of mansk’s touch, taunting you – “you reek.” 

you think just how upsetting it is to feel your desire expand into fanned flames at the memory of quaritch. at the memory of his anger – the only thing of him that he’s given to you freely. 

mansk rips his lips from yours, panting, his eyes dilated with desire. “rico, y’smell so good.”

your shirt is torn from your body, your cargos thrown over broad shoulders – not broad enough, not tall enough, not angry enough. 

you try to forget, to stop thinking, as mansk fucks you; thin fingers sliding along your slit and sinking into your heat, curling to prepare you for his length. not even the way three of his fingers overwhelm you with the feeling of being stuffed can silence the thoughts – ‘not thick enough, not long enough, not rough enough’ – and you bury your face on his pillow, trying to smother the tears. 

the slide of his cock should’ve rendered your mind into white static, but it seems like your veins are thrumming with a visceral need, one that you know only quaritch can quell. 

“choke me,” you mumble, blinking wetly up at mansk, your chest heaving at the muted desire filling you up. 

“what?” mansk asks, breathless, his body shaking from the crashing heat. 

“choke me,” you repeat, this time clearer. 

mansk hesitates, his wide eyes growing bigger, his scent curling into something darker. the wrap of his hand around your throat is sure, gentle despite your plea, before he squeezes. the pressure grounds you, feeding into your desperation. into your delusions. 

(you think of quaritch. it seems like you never stop thinking about him. 

he will take you the same way lava takes everything – devouring beyond flesh, nipping right into the core until all it leaves is the flames of a thousand suns. his desires will crush you, filling up the spaces between your blood vessels and your synapses with nothing but him. 

and you will love it. you will let yourself be scorched because ever since you have met him, all you knew was fire and how they lick up into your chest, swallowing your heart, almost like they are branding his name directly in you. 

like you have belonged to him even before.)

mansk wipes you with a towel, murmuring soft apologies when your body jolts in oversensitivity at the rough drag of the cloth. he passes you his shirt and then pulls you underneath the sheets, tucking you in for the night. 

“thank you,” you say, weakly smiling at him.

mansk returns the smile, brushing your braids away from your face. “just like old times.”

your eyebrows furrow, confusion triumphing over exhaustion. “old times?”

“yeah,” he grunts, falling beside you. “you’ve always liked the colonel and granted we didn’t fuck then, but you always vented to me so, y’know?”

mansk’s words wash over you like a crashing tide, pulling you from the shore and submerging you into the depths of the unknown. you grasp at your memories, flitting from one to the other, trying to find pieces of your affection for the colonel only to fall short. surely, you would’ve remembered. surely, the feelings, with how intense they are, did not just go away; that you did not just lose a piece of yourself.

you think of the haunting, how the colonel and socorro appear in your memories in fragments, and feel a twinge in your heart. was it not indifference? that all this time when you remembered her, when you used her to learn more about quaritch, it was because you liked him too? 

were you always a fool like this? searching for bits of quaritch in the hands of another, trying to claim the stray parts like they could be yours to begin with. 

“rico?” mansk’s voice breaks through your reverie. 

“i… i don’t remember.”

he turns to you in surprise. “what do you mean you don’t remember?”

“just that,” you say, your voice faint. “i don’t- i can’t remember.”

-------

the moment miles saw his reflection – blue and distinctly not human – he knew there was little of himself left in the hellhole that pandora had become. autonomy and freedom no longer meant much, not when he’s become a weapon. 

he’s died once, they said. had he still been the commanding officer in the compound, he’d have the shrink do drills at the stupidity of pointing out his untimely and obvious demise. 

no fucking shit he died. miles would’ve remembered turning into a goddamn na’vi if he didn’t. 

but, at the end of the day, his anger didn’t matter. like a freak show, he’s back – not really as the same man, but similar enough that the old colonel’s ghost thrums with hymns of vengeance, carrying over to miles’ own person. because miles may not remember his death, but he remembers jake sully’s betrayal.

the boy had chosen his people and miles had chosen his, it is that simple. 

the mission was straight-forward, but miles isn’t deluded enough to assume that it would be just as easy. he’s failed once already, after all. perhaps being a na’vi could switch the tides; perhaps being one wouldn’t matter – whatever it may be, miles is ready to carry the burden of killing jake sully.

with a single focus, miles lets the unfamiliarity of his new body roll off his skin like dew before forcing himself to learn and to adapt. painstakingly, he even tried to salvage the pieces of augustine’s research, hoping to find any scraps of information regarding the na’vi in her ramblings, but the compound has scrubbed themselves off the traitor’s books. don’t mind the fact that augustine’s the best goddamn na’vi expert, apparently, they rather bitch around under the pretence of unnecessary patriotism, instead of taking advantage of her research. 

when he asked who he should talk to regarding their physio, he was told that augustine was replaced by cooper. unsurprisingly, cooper was unable to fill in the shoes that augustine left, but miles preferred him anyway. the man has lesser empathy, lesser curiosity about the wonders of pandora. 

‘that’s good,” miles thought upon meeting cooper. ‘checkups will be clinical. none of that bitchin’ about morals.’

which was why it should’ve been easy transitioning into his recombinant body. it should’ve been.

then, you came along.

sweet, little, pretty thing that you are. you don’t even know what you do to him, walking around looking like you’re pulled straight  from miles’ spank bank material. you look darling with your short braids, pulled back with little clips like those that he remembers walker using, as your smooth voice ripples against the heavy tension building in miles’ chest.

there’s always this sweet scent that follows you, and it reminds miles of something that he couldn’t really pin down. it’s faint, teasing his senses with the little bursts until he began to be addicted to it. to be addicted to you.

he had been content with only getting a whiff from every time the two of you crossed paths, your chin ducking down in respect, saluting so beautifully that it had miles pretending that he didn’t have the itch to pat your head in approval. 

(you looked like the type to adore praises; the type to want to hear how you’re being such a good girl. all for him.)

he didn’t want to pursue more, remembering what happened when he last made that mistake, but it just felt so impossible to dismiss his interest in you as something that is only fleeting; something that is only physical, bound by the biological nature of his new body. 

maybe if he just pushed back harder against the general, then maybe he could be rid of you. maybe there would be nothing thrumming underneath his skin – he refuses to call it desire, afraid that by doing so, he would chain himself to the ache that he feels – and maybe you would no longer be his growing problem.

then: a spike in the air churned the insides of miles’ head, bolting his legs onto the floor. there was a sort of static, a rumbling charge that pierced past metal walls and choked miles into madness. 

he didn’t even realize what it was until he picked up the sound of your voice, pleasure curling against your words as you cried out a name. miles felt lightheaded, warmth crept up from his fingertips to the base of his neck.

(a shackle, one that spelt out your name. 

again, do you know what you do to him? what you reduce him to?)

the scent of your euphoria sent him into a feverish state, molten lava replacing blood as he burned. his breaths came out in ragged rasps, and miles gulped down the air as though he could taste you from it. as though that would’ve been enough.

miles knew what danger looked like, he knew what it smelt like, but he never expected that it would take your shape, testing him past his capabilities. so he lied, spitting in anger and lashing out as he held your hand, ignoring the way his skin tingled when it met yours, and he watched as your eyes glimmered with hurt.

fine. that’s fine. miles repeated this mantra until he clambered into his room, almost tripping over his boots, and made his way to his bed. 

there was a heavy pressure in miles’ ears as he tore off his belt, his teeth snapped together as he pulled his length out and fucked into his fist, breathing into the other one to chase the fading scent that you left. 

he lost himself in his thoughts, imagining that it had been him who reduced you into a moaning mess. that it had been him who you came to for your heat; that it had been him who made you cry, your whimpers slipping past shut doors until everyone could hear your sweet cries.

miles has always been possessive, he doesn’t need the soul drive to know that.

his orgasm ripped through him in muted pleasure, not enough to stoke the heat rumbling deep in his belly.

“fuck!” he growled, frustration bubbling up into his mouth as he screwed his eyes shut, trying to forget the way you look; the way you walk, the way you shoot your hydra or the way you maneuver a bird as though you and the machine are one. 

but it was futile. he’s ruined. 

you’ve ruined him.

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tagging (pls lmk if you wanna be added or removed!) - @hinataashoyos @babyduk213 @ilovebluedilfss

[nervousd]

Chapter Three— Unexpected visitors

→ Infatuation | m.list

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#SYNOPSIS— The dead come back to visit

#WARNING(S)— This is a dark fic, implications of abandonment, implications of being a bad mother, child abandonment, implications of discrimination, implications of physical abuse, yandere, unhealthy obsession, possessive, prey/hunter dynamics, scent kink, creepy behavior, throat usage?/does that even make sense?, forced kissing, noncon kissing???)) quaritch goes feral, unwanted touching

#CHARACTER(S)— Recom! colonel Miles Quaritch

#NOTE— so I lied— the good stuff will definitely be on the next chapter. I’m also planning to make a Drabble to make up for it

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Quaritch extended out his palm towards the diagram ❝ The target is pretty much this whole island group— ❞ he was cut of by Spider ducking beneath his large frame, he glanced down at his son smiling briefly, ❝— Never been up there, you know those waters doc. What kind of indigenous we got? ❞ Scoresby gestured towards the man on the opposite side of the diagram. The doc was startled out of his own thinking, hesitating briefly as he glanced at the blue Recom looking at him with piercing yellow eyes ❝ Well— uh we got metkayina mostly some Ta’unui maybe fifty villages— ❞

Having enough of his rambiling, Quaritch cut off him with a puzzled face, ❝ uh you are who?❞ he didn’t need to know what specific species of na’vi there was— all he needed to know where was the nearest village nearby to get stated on his mission ❝ Oh I’m uh Doctor Ian Garvin, a marine biologist ❞ he extended out his palm for a handshake but was ultimately ignored by Quaritch, he dropped down his hand in embarrassment, ❝ Fifty villages— a hundred villages. I don’t care we’ll search them all ❞ Scoresby scoffed, and snapped back with an obnoxious tone ❝ I hunt Tulkun, that’s what I’m rigged for that’s all my guys do. I’ve got quotas to meet ❞

A rotten wry smile split Quaritch face, he showed a smile with far too many teeth— teeth to sharp his lips curled up. He looked like a happy predator with upturned lips, ❝ I’ll be nice once than I won’t ❞ Behind him, Lyle lifted his respiratory mask taking a sip of carbon. His yellow eyes gleamed, as he watched the interaction between the two of them. Scoresby pursed his lips, not expecting to be threatened in his own ship, ❝ Oh if you can’t get out of it, get into it. All crew to stations! ❞

—

It was difficult being the only human among the na’vi, unable to fully understand the ways of being‘ One of the people ‘ as they say. But they were welcoming to say the least— a bit skittish but nothing you can do about it. Had it not been for Jake sully— Toruk Makto as they call him; you would of never been accepted into the Ta’unui clan. You weren’t ‘ one of the people ‘ just a human coexisting with them. It was difficult at first, finding yourself frustrated with them— and yourself. It was a horrible decision to leave the forest but if you didn’t than you would be stuck with him— burden by the responsibility of being a mother. So you packed your things and left—

Gone the next day leaving no trace behind but a few personal belongings. It was heartless— to abandon a child but you couldn’t bare to look at it. Finding bile crawling up your throat whenever you ever so glanced at it. But that was years ago and you can only find yourself wanting to learn about their life now— only a little. You come up with your own conclusions, that’s he’s fine— doing much better now that you were gone. Has a happy family that gives him all the affection and care he needs— anything to lesson the guilt of abandoning him.

You were startled out of your thoughts as a blue hand appeared in your vision. You jumped like a feral cat, whisking around as your eyes caught culprit of a sheepish male na’vi. ❝Jesus Christ— must you always do this to me? ❞ The male na’vi blinked, cocking his head to the side as he stared at you with wide eyes, ❝ I do not understand this sky people talk— what is this Jesus Christ? ❞ You shook your head, waving your hand in dismissal ❝ Dont worry about it— Sky people nonsense and all that. Your English has gotten good ❞ at your compliment, the male puffed up his chest in pride. You scoff at his flared ego— ever since you’ve been here this male na’vi was always by your side, claiming he was curious about the sky people.

He’s become your student— only for a short while. You’ve been teaching him English for quite some and was surprised to see him learn the language very quick. It brought a sense of peace towards you— familiarity. It’s as if you were back in the past with Grace helping her at the school. A wave of nostalgia hit you, often times you missed the moments you had with everyone. You smiled briefly, the past would always sneak upon you leaving nothing but a longing to see everyone. But you had made your bed— choosing to leave and abandon everyone. Now you must lay in your choices. ❝ You are friends with Toruk Makto, no? ❞

Confused by the sudden interest in an old friend, you nodded, ❝ Yeah— Jake sully, what’s the sudden interest in him? ❞ he hesitated briefly, ❝ He is residing in a metkayina clan— not far from here— there has been talk of war following him ❝ Your lips pursed in response, brows furrowing. ❝ That is odd— not something he would do. Who knows maybe he just wanted a vacation? ❞ He looked at you with wide eyes, ❝ You are certain of this? ❞ You hesitated briefly, you weren’t— Jake would of never fled the Omaticaya— especially Neytiri, seeing as how she loved her home and would even die for her people. This wasn’t something they would do— not unless they were running from something— or someone.

But no one could posses such a threat that would cause Jake to flee— and if they did, we’ll they were dead. But you couldn’t cause panic— ❝ I’m sure, who knows maybe it’s for diplomat reasons ❞ He seemed satisfied with your answer and bided you goodbye. You were back to being alone— busying yourself to your own devices. But worry seemed to overshadow your thoughts— worming their way inside your mind. If Jake was here than what of the boy you gave birth to? Jake didn’t adopt him— no the boy had foster parents that took care of him along with other human children that were left behind. But Jake promised— he promised to watch over him. Did Jake bring him here to the ocean clans? Or did he leave him back at the Omaticaya?

Worry gnawed at your gut— you couldn’t bare to risk seeing the boy. Your stomach churned in disgust— you were cut off by a horn being blasted through the air— your stomach dropped. Through the years residing in the clan not once has the horn been used. Distant cries were heard thought the beach and a loud rumbling sound swallowed their petrified cries. You scrambled towards the noise, terror sticking at your nerves as a large ship came into view, ❝ Oh fuck— fuck! ❞ you scrambled backwards running towards your small hut. You gathered your necessity items, shoving the basic necessities in a small bag.

None of this made sense— they shouldn’t be here, not once had they come near the islands. They were often seen out in the open waters hunting tulkun. This was different— had they come here to threaten or kill the na’vi residing in this island? Peace was not on the table so the like hold of the other two options happening were possible. You flinched at the loud cries coming from the na’vi and the curses of your mother tongue being shouted out. If they caught you— there was no doubt you might be publicly executed for betraying your race.

And so you hid— lost in the wildlife of Pandora you seeked shelter behind a trunk covered by bushes. Your breaths came out labored, you peeked from a small opening seeing the na’vi being rounded up on the clearing. You leaned forward trying to get a better view unaware of the footsteps behind you. You let out a scream as a hand tugged you up from your hiding place. You struggled immediately, clawing at the hands that held onto you— ❝ Stay still—! I got a traitor here! ❞ your attacker dragged you towards the clearing, gun pressing against your back.

You tripped over your own feet a couple of times as you were dragged to the clearing. Countless of na’vi were forced to kneel onto the sand with guns and tasers threatening to cause harm. There were avatars among them humans, dressed in full camo gear with weapons strapped towards their vest. The color drained from your face as you made eye contact with piercing yellow eyes, ❝ What the actual fuck— ❞ you were starting to panic, kicking your feet and acting like a mad woman— you were unsure of what to do but your brain screamed at you to run.

In front of you was the man you once thought was dead— no you were certain he was dead. His skeleton was out in the forest decomposing on itself. Yet, here he was, breathing and certainly alive. He was back from the dead and this time he came back blue. Beside him was a human boy wearing na’vi clothes, he was covered in blue stripes. A flicker of recognition sparkled in your eyes— your breath hitched at your throat, ❝no— no! ❞ you shook your head refusing to accept the truth. A newfound strength courses through your body.

You elbowed the guy on the ribs making a run for it, ❝ Don’t shoot! I need her alive! ❞ a familiar voice ran along the clearing— it was him. Colonel Miles Quaritch was back from the dead and came back bigger, stronger and faster in the body of a na’vi—a species he hated with a passion. But how was that even possible? You wouldn’t stay to find out— you had to leave— to hide

❝ Get back here! ❞ He roared out, the sheer volume and grit of his voice caused the ends of your hairs to stand up. He launched himself to your pursuit, screaming out in rage. He was hot on your tail, commanding you stop running but it only caused you to pump your legs faster. Soon enough you heard him right behind you— you glanced back a mistake you realized as he ran at you in a primal way. Hands and feet— claws out for a grip against the terrain he pounced on you. ❝C’mere! ❞ You ducked out the way, barley missing his grasp but not without paying the price of your shirt being torn by his claws. You slammed yourself against a trunk barley missing his claws. You scrambled back to your feet leaving him in the dust.

❝ Stop running! ❞ he screamed out, ❝ you’re suppose to be with me— You’re mine— mine! ❞ Sharp canines gritted against each other and bared into a sneer, his brows were furrowed and yellow eyes were wide like saucers— he looked insane as if he submitted himself to his primal instincts. He was fixated on getting you; even going as far as his abandoning his gun— anything that slowed him down. A shaky sigh left his lips as he gripped the garment of your torn blouse— he inhaled deeply pressing it against his nose. He swears he could taste your scent on his tongue. It’s yours— and you’re here with him.

He exhaled shaky, pocketing the torn piece of clothing inside his pocket. He glanced back up finding you no where in his sight. His ears flattened against his skull, tail laying limp, ❝Don’t be mean now honey— ❞ his voice drawled out, the smirk wiping off his face seeing as there was no indication to where you could possibly be. He scouted out the area in a frenzy coming to a halt as a thud behind him makes him turn around in a swift. He rushes over to the sound pushing away the wildlife , ❝ Gotcha! ❞ his excitement died down when all he found was a small animal cowering in fear. He let out a hiss of frustration, tail whipping around as his anxiety clawed at him.

Panic rose as he searched every creek he could find— which way did you go? His frustration bubbled in his chest, ❝ If you don’t come out right now I swear I’ll paint that ass red and blue! ❞ He looked left and right, running in circles looking for any sign or indication to where you could possibly be. Meanwhile, you had ran as far as you could ending up near your shack. You stoped to catch your breath, heart beating against your chest in an erratic way. You bended over placing your hand on your knees— you had lost him for now. But what can you do before he catches up to you again? For how long can you evade his grasp? Leaving the island would be impossible. This was a hopeless scenario for you— there was no way to flee and running was the only option. You could hide in your shack but wouldn’t that be the first place they would check?

You couldn’t give up now, standing straight you began to plot your next move. Hiding was a no go— you need small places somewhere a na’vi can’t fit in. You could hear the distant scream of your name out in the woods, your head whipped to the sound. Tripping over your own steps you decided to push more distance away from him. You knew exactly where to go— you’ve known this island for years. He doesn’t, all that matters is making sure he doesn’t catch up to you before you get there. Soon enough you heard a branch break beside you— you don’t have time to register the force that impacted you.

You feel like you’re flying through the air— unable to grasp what’s going on. He’s grabbing you and wrestling you beneath him— a coarse laugh came from him, his canines glistened from the copious amount of times of running his tongue over them— unable to swallow his exceeding amount of saliva. His tail thumped behind him in excitement, ❝ I got you, sweetheart— you’re mine now ❞ his chuckles were hoarse, shoulders shaking as deep rumbles came within his chest.

He pressed his nose against the juncture of your nape, curling himself to your size. You froze— did he just sniff you? He’s panting, whole body trembling. ❝ You done teasing me? You and I have some unfinished business to get to. How about we finish that family that we started? Give the brat a couple of siblings while you and I get to be acquainted once again ❞ You shook your head frantically, the thought of having another child with him disgust you. Tears slid down your cheeks freely, you wanted to scream and cry out. This was a nightmare come to life. You let out a squeal as you felt his palm reach down and grabbed a handful of your ass, groping and squeezing the flesh. He rained down numerous kisses on your neck, nipping and lapping at your flesh. You were frozen in place— He was terrifying, and too fucking big. His whole body encased yours. Quaritch looked at you, pupils blown wide—. Your attempts to trash away from his grip was useless against his strength and size. He was overwhelming— you could only see and feel him. Both of his massive biceps were placed beside you, lowering his chest towards back.

Back when he was human he always towered over you but now as a na’vi? He was huge— it was like you were his own personal human doll. You could hear shuffling behind you— you were manhandled as if you were nothing but cargo. You were face to face with him. His biceps kept you locked in his embrace, lowering himself towards you. He was starved for you— relishing every touch he could get from you. You however— we’re frightened and did everything possible to get away from his embrace. You wiggled and kicked helplessly under his strong grip— his arms tightened around you like a snake coiling around it’s prey. It only just hit how strong and big his was.

He hugged you even closer— if it was even possible to do so. Pressing your body against his, he let out a deep low moan making you let out a squeak as you felt his canines drag across your flesh. He leaned down again— seeing his face dip towards yours; you turned your face to the side avoiding his lips from touching yours. His lips skimmed over your cheeks— a low animalistic snarl escaped from him. His fingers dug into your jaws and wrenched your face to look back at him. ❝ You will not take this from me, girl— I have waited so long to have you ❞

His lips pressed against yours in a messy kiss, he pressed his tongue against your mouth. Claws prodding your jaw to open up as he swallowed your mouth whole. Tears streamed down your cheeks— He doesn’t get to have you— you weren’t his. You wish you could tell him this but all you can squeak out are muffled sobs. Quaritch was overjoyed— a sense of peace came flowing to him. You were back in his arms, exactly where he wanted you. Nothing can stop him now— not even the order he was given from his predecessor— you were meant to be his— human or na’vi doesn’t matter.

Your attempts to break away from the kiss were futile against his overwhelming strength. He deepened the kiss, tongue lashing at ever crook and crane he could find. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes as you felt his tongue slither down your throat. Your fist slammed against his chest seeing black dots prick at the corner of your vision. Feeling you go limp in his arms caused him to draw back from your mouth. His hold on you however remained— a string of saliva connected both of your lips. Face running red, you stared at him unable to fully wrap your head on just what happened

He stared back down at you, completely unfazed. As if this was the most natural thing to do ❝ What? Cat got your tongue, hmm Princess? ❞ , you shook your head to the side a couple of times; mumbling out incoherent words. His ears however managed to hear you every well, ❝ You’re not him— how are you even alive? You died— ❞ you babbled out— pawing against his chest pathetically, pushing and slapping with your weak strength. A mistake you were quick to realize as he slammed you back to the ground caging you in his arms, ❝ Just relax, princes I’ll explain it to ya— you see I’m a clone of that old man. He’s deceased— he was weak ❞ he hissed, ❝ I’m better— I’m stronger and I am going to take what is rightfully mine; starting with you ❞

Small wheezes came from you, you looked at him as if he was absurd ❝ I don’t belong to you— ❞ his fingers curled around your throat ❝ Watch it— clearly you’re attitude has been left unchecked for quite a long time. Don’t worry sweetheart, daddy will fix that ❞ His palm pressed against your back bringing you upwards to him, he coaxed you to his lap; tail wrapping around your arm. His palms groped your flesh, touching every place he could. His hands fiddled with your blouse, scrunching up the piece of fabric you called blouse tearing it off. You’re breast bounced from the impact— you curled inward to protect your modesty. His fingers itched to grab hold of your breast— lips curling up at your refusal. However, a static voice coming from his earpiece caused him to pause his actions. You couldnt catch what they were saying but you doubted it was anything good. His yellow eyes gleamed, ❝ Let’s get you back home— where you belong ❞

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━━━ : © NERVOUS.D

[vinciwolf]

Morning Bean

Miles Quaritch x (fem)Reader

Warnings: NSFW, sexsomnia, fem masturbation, p in v, morning sex, soft sex, somnophilia, morning bean, fem fingering, female reader (y/n can be Recom or Human... it isn’t specified, so pick your fav).

Summary: Miles helps you wake up from your morning glory haze...

Miles' tail brushed underneath the sheets covering his form as he pinched his eyes open to the morning light filtering through the window.

His heart raced for a few seconds, but with a slow inhale through his nose, he calmed down, ears folding backwards. It wasn't a matter of him waking up that startled him. That would be silly coming from a Marine. It was what sound being made that was getting him to wake so early.

His ears flicked around, honing in on the strange echoes. Eyes then widened with a brow raised. Those noises were coming from over his shoulder. They were so close it felt… right next to him actually.

Taking a quick whiff of the air, he could smell the drip coming from between your folds. You smelt good. Ripe. It excited his senses to the slow morning like greeting him with warm breakfast in bed.

Your soft panting, troubled and sweet, had the mauve tip of his cock dotting with white as his back faced the writhing body behind him. He listened to the melody of your desperation carefully, ears now fully awake, while his tongue swirled around a canine feeling his shaft grow frustratingly stiff. Your little mewls went straight to his cock having him grip his pillow.

Not to startle you, he turned without much noise under the rustle of sheets as his weight shifted to behold you. Your eyes were still closed, but your legs were most definitely not, one bent a little higher than the other. Like flower petals spreading for the light, you blossomed apart where the sheets tented at the apex of your thighs.

The obvious was clear as your hand shuffled up and down causing a smirk to form on Miles’ face as he watched you play with yourself. The muscles in your neck flexed as your body tensed to the motion at your clit. Your head craned ever so slightly with a quiet blow of air escaping your mouth that turned into a tiny whine, eyes dancing underneath their lids.

Did you know how pathetic yet adorable you looked?

Gasping in your sleep, all needy and aroused.

Your breath hitched when a little too rough of a circle rubbed into your mound that had your hips rolling with larghetto. It had your body shuttering to the trigger of heat your fingers set off. A coo left your body, almost in pain, yet your legs willfully surrendered to the sensation, indicated by the further spread of your knees beneath the sheets.

Miles soaked in every move you made, twitching with want each passing second he continued to stay still. You touched your clit so helplessly under the control of your own arousal that made him eager, made his cock so hard he felt like he’d burst with how much he was leaking at this point.

His urges made him shift onto his stomach… which was probably the worst idea he ever made. The sheets tickled his painfully mushroomed head causing him to pause and seethe through gritted teeth before making his way over to your side of the bed.

The blankets pooled at the Recom’s backside when he sat up on his haunches below your parted legs, exposing the morning light onto both bodies. His cock stood upright while he feasted his eyes on your naked form, so clueless to the one watching you from above. You leaked heavily from your puffy folds, drowning with glossy slick that perfectly dripped a line down your crack.

Miles carefully leaned over you. The smell of your neediness seduced him even more as he got closer to your scent, weight from his hands indented the bed as they slide under your shoulders gently. 

He pressed his mouth to your neck right under your chin. His tongue sucked not too harshly along the tender flesh, but just firm enough to ease out a whimper from you. He swore you would wake up now any moment, but your eyes remained closed, fluttering open just a bit as your eyes twirled from the pleasure at your neck and below.

The Recom could feel on his lips your heartbeat thundering through your skin, warm and alive, as he kissed the length of your pulse. Yet he still couldn’t peg why you were still dreaming despite his efforts.

Then his eyes caught the white-capped, orange bottle atop your dresser. The Marine’s tail swatted behind him. You had discussed with him your bad sleeping habits and how you needed something to get you to sleep every now and then. The corner of his mouth pulled into a bold smirk. You were going to wake up glad you took those pills last night.

Getting onto his knees again, Miles gazed down to where you rubbed your clit.

Snaking his fingers below yours, he was able to replace them with his own. Your thick mess in no time coated his calloused digits that eventually slid lower to play with your folds. They were so fun and pliable around his large fingertips. Then, using two to spread you open, the head of his cock plugged the entrance to your slit…before pushing forward with massive relief groaning from his chest.

~

Your eyes were heavy and slow to open while your mind climbed out of the haziness of sleep.

Stretching your arms above your head and curving your spine, you felt wonderful… until you also felt the cold touch of air tickle your breasts. Nipples pointed hard while you still arched your back, leaving you to wonder why your blanket had decided to abandon its sole purpose. Despite the chill dancing along your chest, everything was fuzzy and warm, making you release a pitched hum in satisfaction.

As you were approaching clarity, the world started to piece together with you noticing first the bend of your knees, to how your thighs were spread, feeling full inside your pussy as the room bounced to the motion propelling you from below.

There was a massive cock slipping in and out of your throbbing cunt.

Immediately, your walls grasped around the welcomed intrusion, mind reeling over how it curved with timed thrusts right where your body craved the most. Every push, every shove, every pass the shaft made set your core ablaze. Soft, winded patterns – ha, ha, ha – left your body being rocked along the bed, legs laid out wide with cock gliding effortlessly into your hole.

"Oh, Miles..." you praised, line creasing between your brow.

Now all you need was something for your–

Two fingers were already digging into the swollen nub. Your cunt fluttered tighter around Miles while his hand brought your erection to full blossom, the head of your clit poking out completely from under its fleshy hood.

You were well aware of your surroundings now as your eyes adjusted to the person on top of you.

Miles propped himself on his knees while holding the back of yours in order to drive deep and hard, huffing slightly. Then he leaned down and caged you under him. His face hovered over yours, breath tickling along your cheek that had you crack a loving smile.

"My girl..." he whispered. "G'mor'nin~"

He thrusted a little slower, saddling your legs around his lower half.

"M-Miles," your voice faltered softly under his weight.

A spark set off inside the Recom hearing his name repeat over your lips so pitifully. He took smug pride in it as you were unable to form any other coherent thoughts, only spewing out his name over those desperate vocals calling just to him. Only him.

Your arms slinked over his back and raked down the cords of muscles. You expected an alarm clock to be your wakeup call… but this was way better.

Miles then propped his head up to find your blushing face, only causing a deeper hue to form across your nose as his eyes bore deeply into yours. You shut your eyes tightly squealing and hid your face in his shoulder. The only response you got from him was a throaty chuckle. Jerk. But you were too cock drunk to care.

Then the knot in your stomach grew tighter as the heat between your legs roared like a wild ocean made of flames.

Miles could feel the sweat of your skin rub into his stomach and chest. He took the sign, and his own release building, and sped up his thrusts. All he knew was he was close, trying to keep in control as he felt his tip begin to leak heavier shots of pre-cum into your walls.

Your body shuttered at the feeling and arched to the swelling balloon ready to pop inside your lower belly any given second. The pants and moans filling the tiny space shared between your faces exploded the nerves along your skin.

Flesh squelched together as fluids merged and squeezed out around the girth that rammed your hole, overflowing down your crack and staining the bedsheets.

Numerous were your cries while your nails dug into the body that held you close. The waves of pleasure violently crashed harder and harder into you as your orgasm neared feeling the biggest one about to wash you away.

Miles’ lips brushed over your ear. “Ssshh, come for me, pretty thing~”

Tears flooded your vision when the final wave toppled over and took you mercilessly. The room filled with the sweet release of your voice as your pleasure seized your body, cunt milking the Marine when he eventually came undone too. You were flooded with cum and nearly fainted as time seemed to drag out.

Everything eventually released perfectly having you collapse breathless, not knowing who or where you were.

“Fuck… me…” you groaned.

“I kinda just did,” Miles grinned, kissing along your face and brow.

You giggled at his corny joke.

Both of you stayed joined for a while, not caring how much time passed while making out and feeling along each other’s skin before having to break apart for air. Then from your dresser, your stupid alarm beeped its annoying song briefly before a large, blue hand smacked the snooze button to shut it up.

“Thank you for waking me up,” you mumbled happily into Miles’ neck as you held him close to you, legs wrapping tightly around his hips.

“Don’t worry about it…” he pecked the edge of your mouth lovingly.

You would have to remember to take your medicines more often.

.

.

.

Tags: @thegrandimperfection @blue-bluee @mileswifefr @deliwrites @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @avatar-lover @justasimps-blog @mechformers @whereireid @whxre-bxby @miscellaneousfantasies

[plzfeedmebread]

What Do I Tell My Friends Family? Pt. 2

word count: 4662

Pairing: Recom! Miles! Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi! Reader Tags/Warnings: Non-con, slight torture mentioned, smut, blow job, mouth fucking, threats of violence, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, NSFW, degradation, dark themes, hurt no comfort Author's Notes: Aye yo wtf, this was suppose to be a one-shot! XD Some have asked for a continuation, so I have provided! Wanted to get this out on Valentines Day, though that has since passed here. Would have been out sooner but, Cyclone Gabrielle had other plans! Anyway please enjoy. Might make a part 3 for something softer. Apologies for any grammatical errors!

<previous chapter> | 2 | <next chapter>

*by clicking keep reading you understood the contents there within*

Pain.

That is the first thing that you register; a dull throb to the back of your head. You grown at the feeling. Slowly do your eyes flutter open, the sting of light assaults you.

When finally do you adjust to the brightness, you take stock of your surroundings.

White.

The walls. The ceiling. The floor. Where the fuck are you?

You realise you are on the floor. You move to sit up, but you find your hands are bound tight behind you. So it with great effort you that manage to push yourself up into a sitting position, back pressed against the wall behind you.

You gaze around the room. In the centre there is a thick metal table. No chairs. To your left, a bed that would be far too small for your frame. Clearly you are in a human facility. But you do not recognise this interior to be that of Hell’s Gate.

Shit.

Despite the painful throb, you attempt to recount your steps up until this point.

---

Your siblings; Eywa bless them all, but by the Great Mother did they infuriate you. For some unfathomable reason, the little entourage, sans Neteyam, thought to disobey the rules and explore the old battle site. There they happened upon a group of Avatars, decked out in full gear, carrying ARs.

Lo’ak calls it in. Father instructed him to retreat.

You arrived at eclipse, alongside your parents and Neteyam, leaving him with the ikran. You find your siblings captured and in the clutches of these Avatars. There would be no way to rescue them without bloodshed.

Your mother lets loose the first arrow, a clean headshot, and all hell breaks loose in a hail of gunfire. In the scuffle you manage to find Kiri and Spider, leading them away as fast as you can.

But an explosion goes off behind all of you, and though you and Kiri keep balance, you see Spider fall. The two of you yell out to him. Without so much as a second thought, you dove. You clutched his body to yours, wrapping yourself around him as the two of you fell, lessening the impact it would have on him, hoping you have protected his mask.

You hit your head on several tree branches on the way down. With a painful thud you land on the ground. There is a loud ringing in your ear. You think you can hear Spider’s muffled voice yelling your name, screaming perhaps. You can’t concentrate. There is only pain. There is only the ringing.

You faintly register the feeling of being lifted. There is a light, blinding in your eyes, coming from the skies. Then darkness. Nothingness.

Then, you woke up here.

---

It stands to reason then, that you were captured by those Avatars. Fuck.

But where was Spider?!

Panicked, you hoist yourself onto wobbly legs, looking around the room you search, but he is not here. You pull on the bindings in frustration, but it is of little use; they are wound tight.

You turn around and are met with your own reflection. You notice your head’s been wrapped in some gauze; you must’ve hit your head pretty hard. You look at the bindings on your wrist, orange, ones you haven’t seen before. A nice new gift from the Sky People.

Suddenly your ears pick up a soft swoosh of a sound, and the door behind you opens.

Too afraid to turn around you stare at the doorway through the reflection.

One of the Avatar men stalks in, bending as he does to get through the doorway.

By Eywa’s grace, he is tall. Taller than your father, your surmise. Bigger too. Probably not a fight you would win easily, if it all. Especially with your injured head and bound wrists.

“Ah, you’re finally awake.” He says as he approaches you. You turn then, slowly, to face the man. You decide to play nice, for now at least. No need to get hurt even more. Lure the enemy in, strike when they least expect.

You look up to meet his gaze head on, and freeze.

---

That face.

That damned face.

You’re sure you know that damnable face.

But it is not possible. The man you know of, are thinking of, is most assuredly dead. For real dead. You’ve seen his remains, trapped in that machine in the old battle site. You dared not to touch it; afraid it would have disturbed his spirit somehow.

Oh Eywa, his spirit…

How long has it been since you last saw him? Three years? Something close to that you think. You would never forget that evening, that desperate evening, when you approached him. Threw yourself at him. And he caved. Oh sweet Eywa, he had caved.

You knew what you did was wrong. Guilt had eaten away at you in the days that followed. You knew exactly who he was. You knew of his crimes. Yet you did it anyway. Shameful. Disgusting. Monster-fucker, you bitterly thought.

The two of you never really broached the topic of his past. He had given you his name, and it was enough. You told him who you were, and it was enough.

You hadn’t known how to explain the marks that marred your body. You claimed to have fallen off attempting a trick mid-flight. A weak excuse. You can see it in the eyes of your parents that they do not believe you. Your siblings too. But they instead teased you, convinced are they that you must have been with someone.

You decided then, that if you should see him again, you must apologise, it was a mistake, shall never happen again, and to never speak to one another going forward.

It takes two weeks then, for a re-emergence of a shared dream.

You had been psyching yourself up for the encounter.

Except the moment your eyes meet, there is such an unbelievable swell in your chest, an almost immediate heat in your loins. You are beyond smitten.

You let yourself be lost in the feeling.

Days turn to weeks. Weeks to months. And every few days, you found yourself back in his company. Back in his arms. Sometimes, he in yours. And you love it. Guilt be damned you love the attention. The two of you figure that your body must reflect whatever happens to your soul in this Space.

He, tries, to be more mindful of the marks he leaves; but your people already wear next to nothing as it is, so it is a bit of a challenge. You don’t mind though, not anymore. Not after this long. It fills you with confidence, to know you are wanted so deeply, so readily, always.

You find you are able to walk pass those boys who had rejected you with a huff, a flick of the hair. Show them that they are unneeded, and that you have found someone else.

But such a time is not to last. Your family began to pester you; your parents especially. Father is Clan Leader; this you cannot forget. So for his eldest, his daughter, to have some sort of secret lover, he is not exactly keen on. They beg and plead, asking for you to tell them who it is. If this boy, ‘Ha! Boy…’, has accepted you, then they can arrange for him to be your future mate, recognise your future relationship in the clan. Make it official as it were.

You were relucted, obviously. How can you explain to them that you were having, relations, with what is undoubtedly their worst enemy, but also that it wasn’t happening in the real world?

Just when you were slowly coming around to the idea of confessing…it stopped.

Just like that.

No warning. Just complete, nothingness.

When a week had gone by with no Quaritch, you thought nothing of it.

But weeks turn to months. One month becomes two. Two becomes four.

And on the eve of the sixth month, you break. You break down, alone under the Spirit Tree. You connected to Eywa, sobbing, begging, pleading, questioning. ‘Why? Why now?’ If it was so wholly wrong, why put you two together?

You are met with silence.

Months then, turned to years. You never do tell your parents, or your siblings. Your apparent mood change at the seventh months leads them to believe things didn’t work out. It had been months since they saw you with marks in suspicious places. You are grateful they never bring it up though; but you can tell in they walk on egg shells around you that they know.

This goes on for about another few months before all returns to normal.

You miss him, of course. He had been your first love you think. Accepting your body as those boys did not. A freak to them you were. Big breasted and wide hipped. But to him—

“Ahh, you’re all freaks to me darlin’. ‘Sides, if you were human, with a body like that? Pssh, men wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off ye. Lord knows I can’t,” he had winked at you when he said that. That’s when you knew there was no way you could possibly stay away from this man.

But Eywa had other plans it seemed.

“You still with me darlin’?” Your reminiscing is brought to a hastened end by the man before you. He stands just before you, waving a hand in front of your face.

Shit. How long were you staring off into nothing remembering things?

You blink rapidly, then cast your eyes downward. You are far too overwhelmed to look this man in the eye.

“What do you want, Demon?” The last part you spit with venom. You don’t know who this is, but you hate him. Hate that he looks so damn close to your human.

“Ah, so you do speak English…” He takes a step back, crosses his arms and regards you with keen interested. “That was some nasty fall back there. Had the science pukes patch ya up real nice.” You don’t say anything in response.

“Spider tells me you were protecting him. Awfully nice of ya, considering he’s human. Stands to reason then, that I shall return that kindness. Be nice and all that. All you gotta do, is tell me what I wanna know.” He roughly grabs your face in one hand, forcing you to look up at him.

“Where is Jake Sully?”

“As if I would betray my family so easily, Demon! You will get nothing from me!” You all but yell angrily at him. Baring your teeth as threateningly as you can muster.

“Now-now sweetheart, there’s no need to play hard to get. We can do this the easy way. Or the hard way. Your choice. As I said, I’ll be nice. Once. Then I won’t.”

Fear.

Fear bursts through you. You look up at this man, this Demon, this monster and plead with your eyes.

“Please…don’t hurt me…Do not ask this of me…”

Loyalty, even in the face of danger. He admires that. But the soft approach, he’ll save for Spider. His not-son. For you though, savage daughter of that fucking traitor Jake Sully, he’s decided on a not so nice approach.

---

You don’t know how long you’ve been here. Hours? Days? Weeks? Time has all but blurred together. You have not seen the outside in so long. Have not felt the sun upon your skin. It is torture. But nothing, truly nothing, compares to that awful machine.

It pulls at your mind, the digging, cutting, searching. The feeling of a thousand metal spiders clawing into your flesh. Yet you do not yield. You think only of the forest. Of tall trees and swinging vines. Of running through the under brush at night when the world is aglow. You force your mind to think of Hells Gate. Of the scientists. Of the many humans you see mulling around.

Each time your screams fall on deaf ears, begging for the pain to stop. Each time you are brought to tears. Only when you start bleeding from your nose are you let free, returned to that awful white room. They don’t bother cuffing you anymore. You simply lay on the floor weeping to yourself till you fall unconscious.

You’re not sure how long you can keep it up. Sooner or later, you will inevitably think of the Hallelujah Mountains, of High Camp.

And where was Spider? Oh Eywa you hope he’s okay. If they put him in that same machine, you vow you would kill them all. Every. Last. Human. Avatar. Whatever. Anything breathing in this forsaken place was dead fucking meat.

Again you weep for him. You hope was safe and not scared and alone. You prayed to Eywa that they treated him with a modicum of decency, at least for being human. You move yourself and the oxygen mask they gave you into the soft bed, small as it was, a better comfort than the floor. You cry yourself to sleep.

---

It’s frustrating, Quaritch thinks. It’s been about a week, and still they have come up short. Even with Spider riding along, no progress has been made. It was difficult to even get him to agree to come a long. He had insisted on seeing you, outright refusing to cooperate otherwise. It was only when Quaritch had not to subtly threatened to return him to the science pukes that he relented. Still he demanded to at least know you were safe.

It took little effort to lie to the boy. You were technically safe, so long as they didn’t keep you in that machine longer than you could handle. You had a place to rest. Water and food were given to you. A mask too. By all accounts you were still living and breathing. Close enough to safe.

But you. Stubborn, obstinate, infuriating you. They had yet to break you. Their fancy expensive machine failing them at every turn. Quaritch stares at you on the monitors before him. He can hear you weep. Another failed round. He’s clutching his mug tightly. The General will be on his ass if he doesn’t produce results soon. He’s not exactly her biggest fan either. She’s got an arrogance about her that rubs him the wrong way.

It’s your fault, he thinks, as he stares you. Your fault, that progress has come to a standstill. It pisses him off. If you at least gave them something, anything, this would be a whole lot easier. He slams his mug down, anger bristling his nerves, ire ever growing.

“Turn off the monitors. Me and that hostile are gonna have ourselves, a little chat.”

“Sir…?”

“JUST. DO IT.” The human beside him jumps at his tone, hastily turning off the feed as commanded.

“Now don’t go turning that back on till I return. Trust me, I’ll know.” He fixes the man with a stern look before storming off to your holding cell.

---

You awake with a start at the sound of the door opening. You see the Demon step in, then touch the something beside the door. It makes a noise, and you are more than certain he’s locked it. Your stomach drops.

Quaritch looks up at the cameras, making sure there is no red light to indicate it being on. Satisfied, he turns to you once more.

“You know sweetheart. I gotta give it to ya, I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long.” He says, taking slow leisurely steps towards you. You bring your knees to your chest, pushing yourself as far back as you can until your met with the cold wall.

“But this can all go away. No more machine. I can get you outta here. All you gotta do is give me what I want.”

“I will give you nothing! Demon!” You hiss at him, but it is for show. You are scared, trapped with this man in a place you can’t escape. Too weak to fight properly. Without thinking, you spit at him, landing your saliva on his chest. Oh, he doesn’t like that.

“One of these days sweetheart, that mouth of yours is gonna get you in a world of trouble.” A frown adorns his face as he says this, looking at the offending wet patch before drawing his eyes back to meet yours.

“Starting today.” In a flash he’s on you, roughly grabbing your queue at the base. You yelp in both surprise and pain, hands automatically clawing at his wrists. He pulls you off the wall to the edge of the bed. He stands before you. He yanks your head back, pulling your face upward.

“You don’t wanna talk? Fine. Let’s put that mouth of yours to good use then, shall we?” The grips your queue tighter, the searing pain lights your nerves once more and you hiss at the feeling. Tears threatening at the edge of your eyes.

You catch movement on the edge of your gaze. With horror you realise what he is doing. He’s unbuckling his pants.

‘Oh no no no, please, Great Mother NO! Not this! Anything but this!’ Your prayer is futile as you watch him pull out his half-hardened cock.

Quaritch didn’t think he’d find your fear so arousing. But that pleading look you give him every time he sees you, he can’t help the bolt of electricity that shoots through him. Even now he can see the fear in your eyes, he can see you know what’s about to happen, and he reveals in the power he has over you. Doesn’t help that you’ve been walking around in that get-up of yours.

He noticed you, that first time he walked into this cell. You definitely were a half-breed, with those five fingers and toes. Even more so did he notice the swell of your breasts, the expansion of your hips. From the images he’s seen on the data pads, you are clearly not like the rest of your kin. Your portions are almost too human.  He’s not sure if it’s this new body, or the memories of the man he’s emulating, but God damn he can’t help himself.

The frustration of it all, topped off with your stubbornness to cooperate, stagnating their operation too boot, has all been building up. He’s just about had enough. This is all your fault. Seems to reason that you should be the one to fix it, he figures.

Before you can even begin to beg, he pulls out a knife, bringing the sharp blade to where he has your queue in his hand.

“Don’t get any funny ideas darling. One wrong move, and it’s bye-bye Eywa. Understood?” Tears silently fall from your eyes; you nod when you feel him loosen his grip ever so lightly. Seeing those tears sends a pleasurable throb to the tip of his dick.

“Good girl.” He lets your head fall forward properly facing him, he shuffles closer, his legs hitting the side of the bed.

“Now, do you need to be told what to do, or do you already know?”

Of course you know. You spent an almost immeasurable amount of time with your beloved human. He showed you things you never dreamed of, touched you in ways your imagination could never suffice. But now those memories were to be tainted, forever marred by the actions of this Demon. Your hesitation is noted, and met with displeasure.

“I ain’t got all day sweetheart.”

With renewed tears you sit on your knees, and take him in one hand.

---

Slowly you pump, up and down, from base to tip. It doesn’t take long for him to harden. The sight of your tears dripping onto your exposed chest spurring him on.

He’s massive, you realise. You’re sure Na’vi men aren’t meant to be this well-endowed. You’re almost certain actually, from the stories you shared with you by your friends.

He is thick too; your fingers barely touch when encircled around him. He hums with pleasure, tightening his grip on your queue ever so slightly.

You squeeze tighter, pumping his cock with more force. You hear him suck in a breath.

He brings the knife away from your queue to your mouth.

“Open.” He commands, and you obey. “Wider.” He sticks the knife inside carefully, pressing the flat side of the blade onto your tongue. The cold metal tastes awful, making your mouth water. He uses his thumb to pull one side of your mouth away, examining.

The sight alone causes a shudder through his core. You peering up at him, tears in your eyes, tongue flat, mouth pulled open, drool falling freely. Oh yes, he could get used to this.

He removes the knife from your mouth, back to your queue.

“Use that pretty little mouth of yours darling.”

Your lips tremble at the thought of that massive thing in your mouth. But what choice do you have really? Your lifeline is in his hand; quite literally in fact.

He moves your head closer, loosening his grip to give you some leeway. “Watch those teeth darlin’” he warns as you lean closer still.

Slowly you open your mouth, and give his tip an experimental lick. You hear the Demon suck in a breath through his teeth when he does this. You lick his tip again, then take the hold head into your mouth.

The Demon exhales audibly.

You swirl your tongue around the tip, opening your mouth slightly to ease the motion, all the while pumping his cock with your hand to spread your saliva.

“Hnnn—fuck. Keep going darlin’…” The Demon praises you. Once you deem him sufficiently lubricated, you stick out your tongue and proceed to take more of his cock into your mouth. You stop half way before pulling back. You bring your head back down halfway, meeting your hand that pumps him from base to midway.

You set a slow place, squeezing him as hard as you can with your hand. You can hear his laboured breath as you suck his cock with practiced movements.

“You’ve done this before have you? Fucking whore…Bet you got men just lined up back home—!!!” His words come to abrupt halt, followed by a gasp, when you remove your hand from his cock and plunge the whole length into your mouth. He wasn’t expecting that.

You feel the tip of his dick stroke pass the base of your tongue and tease the inside of your neck. Though you’ve ever sucked any other cock other than your beloved, back when you were still relative to his size, he was sure to show you how to take his cock without chocking. Seems those lessons shall serve you well.

You pull back, tracing the vein on the side of his dick with your tongue. You bring his tip to your lips and swirl your tongue around it hastily, before sucking the whole length back down your throat.

“Ffffuuuuuck—” the Demon all but moans loudly, hips sway slightly.

He throws the knife to the floor suddenly, wraps your queue around one wrist, the grabs both sides of your head in his hands.

He starts fucking you like that, holding your head still and he pumps into your throat with reckless abandon. He unashamedly moans, feeling the soft smooth slick of your tongue graze his dick, while his tip meets the inner walls of your throat.

You don’t expect him to go so fast, the intrusion at such a speed shocks you, and you gag unintentionally. This doesn’t deter him at all though, seems to spur him on further. Faster he fucks you, powerful muscles clenched tight as he drives his hard cock down your bruising throat. Each time he can see the imprint of his dick push on your throat and it sends a jolt of pleasure through him.

You look up then, glistening eyes brimming with tears, nose running slightly. Your hands hold onto his wrists for balance. His face is contorted into one of inexplicable pleasure. Eyes half lidded, glazed over, mouth agape, he moans loudly without shame. He’s so close. He can feel it. He’s teetering on that precipice of release. He just needs a little bit more.

One hand leaves your head. He reaches to your shoulder to grab the lines of fabric there. With one powerful pull the threads break, beads and other small trinkets go flying about the room.

You make some kind of shocked noise around his cock; the vibrations send pleasurable waves all throughout.

“Aaaaahhh—fuck yes baby that’s it! Let me see you play with those pretty tits of yours! Come on now!” He yells as he brings his hand back to your head, holding you still once more, resuming his brutal pace.

Timidly you bring your hands to your now openly exposed breasts. You cup yourself in each hand, squeezing gently, you start to massage yourself in lazy circles. You moan around his cock without thinking, the feeling of playing yourself sending a small jolt of pleasure to your pussy.

“Come on baby, come on yes that’s it, you’re such a good girl for me, my fucking little savage whore! Just a little more!”

You move to pinch your nipples as you press your tits together, and you moan a muffled scream at the pleasure lighting your nerves.

That does it for him. With one final powerful thrust into your throat, he cums. Hard. You feel the thick streams of his seed coat the inner walls of your throat. He pulls back and thrusts back in a few more times, filling your mouth with his hot sticky cum.

He holds your head to the base of his cock, your nose pressed against his groin.

“Swallow it baby…Don’t waste a single drop now.” You swallow, drinking deep. You give his cock a couple hard sucks, making sure you drink every last drop. Slowly you pull your head back, his dick comes out with a pop. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue out of habit. Quaritch would always inspect your mouth like this, make sure you were a good girl and didn’t waste his gift to you.

The Demon smirks down at you, his breathing laboured. He sees your tail flick behind you, only then does he notice his also swaying behind him with reckless abandon. He releases your queue then. You almost weep at the relief that floods you. Without a word he puts his semi-soften cock back in his pants, collects his knife and secures it back in place. He gives himself a once over before turning to face you once more.

You’re still sitting on your knees. There’s a thick blush from your tits, up your neck, and splayed beautifully across your cheeks. You’re looking up at him with glistening eyes, apprehension on your face, clearly unsure of what is so happen now.

He clears his throat.

“I suggest, you think ‘bout cooperating. Next time, I might not be so nice.” He leaves without another word. You’re almost shocked by the hastened retreat. When the door shuts behind him, you release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

You immediately bring your braid to you front and hold it tight to your chest. You’re crying is renewed tenfold. To lose one’s queue is a fate worse than death. You’ve heard the horror stories. The pain, the fire, the seizures. It is an unsightly thing. And survival is not guaranteed. Even then, what sort of life could you really have, without your connection? Without being about to make tsaheylu? You continue to cry as you rock back on forth, tail wrapping around you in distress.

You swallow your excess saliva, still tasting that Demon’s cum on your tongue.

Without him here, looming over you with the threat of danger, you come to realise an awful thing.

He tastes just like Quaritch.

You all but scream in frustration as you cry even harder.

---

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @lvangel98, @rsclopez, @onlyreadz @manymaria111, @kristeen31xxx

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[periprose]

pretty please rough navi quaritch smut where he splits reader's legs apart and breeds her?? Reader can be from the RDA and she has to let him breed her as part of the new embryo growth program :) <3

Woo boy anon!! This ask made my head explode in a really good way 😳 thank you

The Old Fashioned Way

Miles Quaritch x Reader

When Parker Selfridge tells you that the RDA needs one of your eggs, since you're a Recom, for new genetic material, you literally can't say no. It's an order that you can't refuse, since they're trying to make new embryos to experiment off of.

Of course, you're placed in a room with Miles Quaritch, your superior, who's unsuccessfully trying to harvest his own reproductive material, same as you. He decides to kill two birds with one stone, and suggest that you do it the old fashioned way.

Word Count: 3.8k

Genre: Smut, pwp, breeding kink, unprotected sex, Quaritch being obsessed, 18+, no use of Y/N

Reader's name is Axe

“No way.” You cross your arms, staring down at Selfridge.

He’s just told you about the new RDA program. Growing Avatars and Recoms is easy and all, you know the process. Na’vi DNA was extracted successfully about twenty-five years ago- and there’s a process of combining human DNA with it to create new bodies.

It’s just that the Na’vi DNA has slowly been losing it’s potency with every sequencing process. You don’t know exactly what that’s all about- just that cloning deteriorates something about how strong the genes are. 

So the scientists and geneticists have decided that they need some kind of replacement, and they need it now. They wanted to track down more Na’vi, but considering how hard everyone’s asses get beat anytime the RDA gets a few klicks near their territory, it was a no go.

They’ve decided on the “natural way.”

As Selfridge has just said.

“ Why… not… just take my genes, Parker?” You bite your lip, and Selfridge shakes his head.

“Don’t make this anymore awkward than it has to be, Axe.” Selfridge stares at his fingernails, which somehow makes him look like even more of a prick. “Your genes are no bueno . You, Zdinarsk, Wainfleet, and Quaritch are the last line of ‘normal’ Recoms, if we can call it that. If we try to extract your genes, and grow a Recom body, it’ll just be a waste of money. It won’t work.”

“Okay.” You inhale sharply, and Selfridge flinches. You forget sometimes in your Recom body that you’re way more intimidating than your old self was. Your dead self. “So what exactly does the ‘natural way’ entail?”

“What are you, a fucking virgin?” Selfridge laughs. Loudly. 

You snarl at him, and he flinches, again, before snickering.

“Jesus, you really are one of them, huh?” Selfridge scoffs. “Try not to fuck the sperm donor too hard when you see him.”

“Selfridge-” You grab his arm as he tries to leave, and with how much smaller Selfridge is, it’s like you’re dangling his body with your sheer strength. “ Motherfucker- tell me for real what’s going on, or I’ll snap your neck.”

“You’ll get shot if you try anything.” Selfridge says, but you can see in his eyes that he’s panicking. “Okay, okay. I’m just fucking with you. They’re just going to extract an egg from your na’vi-ovaries or whatever they’re called. Then the rest, you should know. Embryo production.”

You do know, but you don’t trust him.

It’s not like you have a choice anyways.

/

You were right not to trust him.

Selfridge has to be kidding. You’re sitting in your typical testing room in Bridgehead City. There’s no scientists around, at least not yet. You’ve come in on your day of ovulation, and you’ve been told to wear something comfortable and loose, and to sit around for a bit.

You lean back on the large medical bed, sighing loudly. You’re wearing some regular sweatpants, and a t-shirt that just barely reaches your midriff. Your hair is tied loosely in a low, wavy ponytail. You hope it looks comfortable enough.

You’re assuming an ultrasound, and- the weirdest part- some vaginal probing. You haven’t gotten a chance to play around with your new body yet, at least not like that, and you have no idea what gets you going, or whatever.

You’re sure some lube will be implemented, and then you’ll just lie there and count to ten. You’re just waiting for someone, anyone to come by to do this procedure and get it over with.

The door slides open. You sit up.

Miles Quaritch looks at you, his eyes bright, alert, and his mouth a little agape. His ears stand up for a moment. He’s holding a really old magazine, and a cup- oh no.

You can’t be in this situation with your superior. It’s just so damn awkward.

“Axe?” He shakes his head and just looks flabbergasted as he cackles. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I might as well ask you the same question.” You say flatly, and sigh. “They told me… they were going to do my egg extraction in here?”

“Oh.” Quaritch isn’t exactly a sensitive man, or one with any sort of sensibilities, really, so he just sits on the other medical bed next to yours. After a brief pause, he pulls the curtain, so you’ll at least have a bit of privacy. It’s the most comforting thing he’ll ever do.

“You looking at porn?” You joke, but Quaritch just sighs in response.

“Sooner you shut up, the sooner I’ll be done.” 

You can’t argue with that. It must be weird for him too, to still have to jerk off into a cup so he can be a pseudo sperm-donor for an embryo he’ll never know.

You try not to listen too much to what he’s doing, and you can tell, from how much he’s flipping the pages of some old 2100s era Earth porn- he’s not exactly focused on what he’s supposed to be doing. What the hell was Selfridge and the other scientists thinking? That you were interested in having a voyeur experience?

You know that Bridgehead is really busy, what with all the expansions and all for the new human citizens, so you're guessing this was the only free room. You wonder if Z-Dog and Wainfleet are in the same predicament. Why not at least put you in the same room as Z-Dog, so you have a bit of a girl-to-girl, weird bonding experience? Nothing says best friends like getting your eggs extracted together.

Soon, a little robot of some kind comes by through the door, and gives you what has to be the most embarrassing object. 

A dildo.

Not exactly a dildo, because it's not a toy, but it's a very well crafted, self-lubricating, vibrating egg-extractor. Long, slim, phallic and curved in a way that you know will hit the right spot. You feel yourself flush a little.

The robot tells you to "get yourself ready," with the device, and when you're adequately so, to click a button and let it extend itself into your uterus, where it will harvest the egg for safe keeping. 

You really think this is some kind of practical joke. You would've vastly preferred the cold, clinical nature of a doctor asking you to stay calm as they put you under, and insert something into you. 

But you guess it has to be somewhat pleasurable, so they can get you to do it again at some point if they need to. 

"Those sick bastards." You mutter under your breath, and you hear Quaritch stir a little next to you. 

You decide to just get it over with, and pull down your sweatpants- just down to your knees- and your panties. You lay back against the bed, and fiddle with the device. 

Even when you were on Earth, you usually just messed around with dudes who were on your squad in the Navy. This is kind of new territory for you.

You gently press the tip of the device against yourself, and feel awkward. It just is mechanical, cold, and weird- until it starts vibrating, and emitting some sort of magically warm gel that makes you feel soft, as if your skin is beginning to tingle all over, spreading from in between your thighs, up your stomach, and into your chest. 

That's pretty good. You have to admit that yourself. 

You tentatively push it across your folds, not in just yet, and you feel yourself slicken, wetness pooling around the device- it's a sudden whirlwind of a feeling that has you seeing stars. God, you really have missed this feeling, but it's somehow even more intense in your Na'vi body. 

It begins to vibrate against your clit as you move it up and down in a testing, rudimentary way, and you very softly- just barely, audibly moan.

/

Quaritch's ears stand up, on edge. He's horribly alert of everything you're doing, and there's nothing he can do but listen. 

First, your scent is incredibly strong- intoxicating in a way that makes him sure that this is what Sully felt when he got some local tail. Your arousal has him closing his eyes, and thinking of what he would do if he was just a few feet over- pinning you down and thrusting in. Second, that vibrating sound- he knows what it’s doing, and that makes it all the more tempting to just go over and show you what a real man should feel like.

Still, Quaritch wants to follow the rules just this one time, because he's not used to his Na'vi body, either, and he would rather figure out his whole… situation, down there, before he immediately proceeds into sex. 

But he’s a bastard, too. He always goes headfirst into whatever his instincts tell him to do, and it hasn’t exactly failed him yet. Except when he died, obviously.

He hears you, just very subtly moaning, and his ears perk up as he listens.

Quaritch is too impatient to care. There’s a throbbing in his camo pants now, with no thanks to that shitty old magazine, and he knows- like all men know- what he wants to do to get rid of it.

He lifts the curtain aside, where you’re currently holding that damned toy, as your pants ball up around your knees. You’re half-lying against a pillow, and your baby t-shirt is riding up, just showing off a hint of your breasts. You’re not quite in the throes of passion, not yet, but your mouth is half-open, and your lids are half lidded as you gaze at him, your hand stopping in between your thighs.

Quaritch clenches his jaw. It’s insane how fast his hormones are- pumping through his blood, to where his pants are getting uncomfortably tight. It’s quite a sight, he can’t exactly blame himself for moving forward. 

You, to your credit, don’t draw yourself back. You just stare at him, face turning warm- probably not red, all things considered- and Quaritch just stands in front of you, taking your hand from between your legs.

“This is what they got you using?” He scoffs, pulling at the device, away from your legs. You involuntarily twitch at the movement, and your pussy suddenly feels cold. 

Quaritch tuts at the way you’re shaking a little, how you’re clearly so needy, and he leans in with an eager, almost malicious smile. His body easily towers over your own, and you feel your heart race as he looks down at you- up and down your entire body. 

“Why don’t we do things the old fashioned way?” Quaritch murmurs, a deep rumble in his chest as he does so.

You think you should say no. First of all, you don’t want to get pregnant, and second of all, it seems like Quaritch isn’t exactly being impartial, is he? You know that Earth porn probably did nothing for the guy, but that doesn’t mean you have to be his unwilling participant.

Still, as Quaritch gently nudges his bulge against you, your folds slick against the roughness of the cloth, causing you to inhale unsteadily at the pleasant friction, you realize you’re entirely willing to do this. In fact, all things considered, Quaritch is a hell of a lot more attractive than some of the other Recoms out there.

And it feels more natural than the device, which you were sadly struggling to insert. Lube or not, it was a little too out there for you.

You breathe in, feeling his bulge throb against you. “Okay.”

Quaritch doesn’t take much time to unbuckle his pants and underwear, his dick flopping out as he does. You’re a little amused- it’s proportional to his body, but it’s a lot bigger looking than any of the human dicks you’ve seen. 

It occurs to you that you probably look the same way to him. Tall, lithe body. Impossibly tiny waist. Plump chest and ass. Thick thighs. The proportions are different, but good. 

“Are you laughing at me, soldier?” Quaritch pulls off his tank top, his bare muscles causing your face to warm a little, and he towers over you now. His arms are a lot stronger than yours and he pins you down. 

“What the hell are you gonna do about it, Colonel?” You rile him up a little. Just for fun, since it seems like everything has gone batshit insane today. 

Might as well get some extra anger out of him, so this can count as stress relief, too.

“Well, let’s see.” He uses his hands to spread out your thighs, flattening and pressing them into the mattress, splitting your legs apart. He massages your thighs as he talks. “I guess I’m trying to knock you up. Get you nice and filled up with me.”

It causes a tingle in your lower stomach, watching Quaritch size you up as his hands firmly grasp your thighs. 

He inhales, and- with the practised familiarity of someone who hasn’t done this in a while- pumps his fist over his dick, just to remember the sensation. Quaritch slides his dick against you, causing you to convulse as it snugly fits into your outer folds, the head of his dick meeting where your clit is. There’s a throbbing sensation that seems to flow from him into you- and you swear pre-cum must be leaking from him, or you’ve just gotten a lot more wet.

“Ah- fuck- ” You groan, and Quaritch clearly likes the sound of that, because he slides his dick back and forth a few times. Lubing himself up. 

“You asked for this.” He grins at you, and he pushes your legs really wide this time, lifting them up a little as he enters you. 

Quaritch groans loudly when his dick has fully sheathed itself inside you, and you feel yourself twitching in anticipation, feeling more full than you’ve ever remembered feeling when you were human. He pulls your legs forward roughly, and you feel yourself clench around him as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Quaritch sighs in satisfaction, pressing his forehead against yours. He draws himself back, slowly, his dick slipping out of you sloppily, easily, and then thrusts forward at full speed, immediately filling you, causing you to moan loudly. He begins to thrust, slowly, testing the waters, and with every time he fills you, you feel your walls clench around him, like your body can’t do anything but squeeze him.

Eventually Quaritch works himself to a much more rapid speed- like he has a lot of energy he desperately needs to get out. His skin is slapping against yours as he thrusts, sometimes at an even pace, now a bit more sporadically as he gets lost in the sensation, his taut thighs causing what can only be bruises against your own. He finds that with every thrust, your walls squeeze the head of his dick, causing a delicious throbbing sensation to run through his groin, and he wants to capture that feeling again and again. He finds it insane just how wet and good you feel when he ruts up against you- it’s heightened in a way that makes him never want to let go of you.

His hands make their way towards your waist- your ridiculously tiny waist- and he squeezes, marvels at the way it seems his hands could probably swallow you whole there. He’s alarmed to find out that he wants to kiss you there.

Quaritch tries to distract himself a little. Out of some instinct that he can’t quite place, he leans towards your ear, and nibbles on it with his fang. He didn’t exactly realize how much of an erogenous zone that would be for you- warmth spreads across your jaw and ears and cheeks, and you bite your lip in the absolute cutest way, your ears fluttering up and down, as you moan a little against his jaw. He moves his hands upwards, and pulls up your top, exposing your breasts. He roughly thumbs a nipple, causing you to wriggle around in pleasure, and then decides to latch his mouth onto it, his fangs just teasing and pulling at your nipple until you cry out.

He wants to do this again, and again, until you’re covered in his marks and bruises, all his , so he can claim you as his own woman to breed. Of course, Quaritch isn’t that stupid to actually go through with it- you’re a great soldier in your own right, and you probably don’t want to be owned- he just has this need inside him to absolutely own you in every possible way.

You feel like you’re impossibly hot, your body burning up from your lower regions, all the way to your face, to where Quaritch has bitten you, here and there. You’re feeling a pressure build inside you- and you think Quaritch can feel it too, considering how hard he’s grunting, pushing, and pressing inside you, seeking desperately for that release. 

Your hands make their way around his neck, and you lean in, and kiss him, your parted lips moving against his. You think Quaritch won’t be receptive- he is the coldest person you know- but his tongue swirls into your mouth, spit being swapped between the two of you, and he actually groans into your mouth, it being muffled and all. His hands stroke up and down your thighs, ass, waist, and tits, and he begins to thrust with a little more impact- less sloppy, more intensity- which has you absolutely melting at his touch, wrapping yourself tightly around him.

Some instinct of yours- something that comes with this body, at least- tells you to combine your queue with Quaritch’s, and you do so with shaky hands, your braid swinging over his shoulder, and combining with his as you hold them together. Quaritch doesn’t stop you, but what you feel surprises you.

Of course, there’s an overwhelming sense of lust and sex and arousal and all the things Quaritch is feeling right now, so he can breed you like a strong man would, but there’s also… affection? Attraction, yes, but affection?

You could just be getting confused with everything else that’s in there. But you think it’s there, a feeling of affection for his favourite subordinate, and that’s all you really needed to know. You like him, too. You feel like you’re really seeing him right now.

Quaritch moans against your mouth, and cums inside you, and it’s as if fireworks have gone off inside your brain, his orgasm lighting up yours in the soul bond. You convulse under him, moaning, feeling the waves overtake you as he grips you tightly, the ache of his cock causing you to feel pleasure ebb outwards.  

He slowly pulls out, and watches as cum drips down the sides of your thighs. Quaritch is kind of impressed- he did it, like he said he would- and he lays down next to you, sighing in contentment.

“So. Are we keeping it?” Quaritch teases, and you give him a wayward look.

“ It is not gonna be a baby, dumbass.” You roll your eyes, but something about Quaritch now makes you want to snuggle against him, his scent all warm and familiar, and so you do. You let your face lie flatly against his chest. You feel like it’s the bond- it still feels kind of present between you two.

“Woo, boy, if you don’t know how babies are made, I’m not sure I should have done you like that.” Quaritch laughs, and you sigh.

“Goddamnit.” You shake your head. “Selfridge said that our reproductive material are meant to make the next Recoms. They’re just gonna take the embryo, and use it’s cells to make a blank slate for the next Avatar or Recom or whatever it is. We just… took out the middle man for them.”

Quaritch isn’t too caught off guard by this. He’s used to all the science fuckery that the RDA does, and he decides to just let it go.

“Tell you what, Axe.” He uses your name, for real, as his hand combs through your hair. “Come by my quarters later, and we can do it again and again . However many times until you’ve got a baby in there.”

You still don’t want to be pregnant, and you’re pretty sure the colonel knows that- he’s just got some crazy impregnation fetish or creampie kink going on- but you’re kind of obsessed with him now, and the way that he keeps looking at you.

“I’m cool with that.” You nod, and if Quaritch was an honest man, he would say that he felt completely enamoured with that response.

You snuggle up next to him, not really caring that this is a medical lab, or that you should head back to your quarters. You’re tired, and you fall asleep fairly easily.

/

Quaritch doesn’t fall asleep. He feels crazy energized. You’ve given him a high unlike any other- and he’s in a particularly good mood because he feels… some way that he can’t articulate about you.

After you’re out cold, he puts his pants back on- and good thing he does, because Selfridge comes in without knocking. 

Selfridge looks from you, completely naked, and snoring under some blankets, to Quaritch, who’s suspiciously shirtless and stretching his legs out.

He looks aghast. “I didn’t think you two would really-”

“Really?” Quaritch leans over him. “Seems to me like you did it on purpose. Putting us in the same room and all.” 

Selfridge splutters over Quaritch’s accusation, and simply states that he needs the embryo, exiting after handing another extraction advice to him.

Quaritch jostles you awake. “Axe. You gotta do something and then we got to leave, alright?”

You nod sleepily, and he hands you the extraction advice. You rub your eyes and then realize what you’re holding.

“Turn around?”

Quaritch gives you a “ really? ” sort of look, but you’re serious, so he raises his hands jokingly and complies.

It’s a really quick one minute procedure. The little device crawls up inside you in an almost-undetectable fashion, and then after a moment, it pops back out, with a symbol indicating that it has successfully taken the embryo out, and put it inside it’s storage section. It’s weird- you know you were told to come here when you were ovulating, but it’s like a pregnancy test. It confirms that you and Quaritch kind of made a potential baby… or something that will go on to become genetic material for a blank slate.

You’re too tired to care. You put your clothes back on, and yawn, feeling your eyes fluttering. Quaritch picks you up, bridal style, as you snuggle your face into his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck. He exits the room, sidestepping around different human RDA members, and Recoms and Avatars who are staring the two of you down. Looks of confusion among all of them.

Quaritch doesn’t give a fuck. He steps into an elevator, and it pulls the two of you up towards the higher floors of the skyscraper.

You know this will be gossip for all the other RDA members, but for now you can just sleep, completely satisfied.