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#miles quaritch
pandoraslxna · 3 days
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Sweet like Cherry — Chapter 5
Miles Quaritch x female scientist reader
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Words: 6.3k
Summary: Miles has a secret admirer and apparently, she has a thing for photography.
Warnings: explicit smut, age gap, size difference, alcohol consumption, somehow all men are assholes in this chapter, taking advantage of a drunk reader, cat calling, spanking, rough oral (f receiving), jealousy, possessive behavior, minimal dub-con warning, gambling, biting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, virgin reader, obsession, authority kink, power play, corruption kink
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There's a good reason as to why you don’t talk about personal things with your coworkers.
The problem with most coworkers is, they either don’t know or don’t care about someone’s boundaries. They'll just do something like this because they think it’s a nice gesture, and you don’t understand the point when in reality, they just need another reason to get wasted on another saturday night.
Out of place didn’t even begin to cover the way you felt right now.
You knew parties could be fun and a good time for everyone. Not that you’ve been to many before. You just don’t want to be in the middle of this, can't stand the fact that all these people are clustered around, laughing and talking and celebrating you. It feels like a game of play pretend. You don’t even know half of these people that claim to be your friends. They’re not even coworkers, you think. A dozen of them you’ve never even seen before and you’re sure they don’t even work on the same floor as you.
Maggie is going to pay for this later, because she's the only one who could possibly have told them that it's your birthday, and you specifically told her you weren’t going to let her do anything for your birthday. But you should’ve known, the second she asked to do your make up, then stuffed you into this sinfully tight and entirely too short dress of hers because she convinced you it would be fun, and then coincidentally found a pair of heels to match the look.
You couldn’t actually be that stupid, could you? Obviously she had something planned for you, when she asked to spend the evening of your birthday with you for a coffee. Now that coffee turned out to be whatever liquor was filled into that plastic cup in your hand that was then downed with a loud, cheerful whoo of every women in the room because they convinced you that’s how it’s done at a party.
"Aren't you enjoying yourself even a litte?" Laura asks, looking a little like a puppy hoping for a treat as she watches you chew on the inside of your cheek, standing stiff like a rod in the far corner of the room. You’re almost a little disappointed in her, after you found out she helped planning all this. But you can’t be mad at her when she only means good. Apparently that’s what good cowork— friends. That’s what good friends are supposed to do for each other.
And even though you want to say no, you can't bring yourself to throw their kindness back in their faces. After all, they were the only ones that gave you a chance to prove that you could be more than just that nerd. That nerd that doesn’t even bother to make friends or go to parties, that nerd that doesn't even get invited to said parties because you’re no fun anyways.
You may have earned yourself that name, but it still stings to think too much about it. And maybe you don’t want to be that nerd forever. Maybe you want to let yourself enjoy this.
"Yes, I'm enjoying myself," you finally say, swallowing down a sigh.
"Then smile, and go dance with us!" Maggie nudges your side and you cringe at the thought of dancing in the center of the crowded room.
"Why?" You force out a laugh, even though the question is genuine.
"Is this going to be some kind of philosophy discussion?" The brunette rolls her eyes, and you can’t help but admire her talent in applying false eyelashes that long without poking her eyeballs out. "I wanna dance, that's why!"
"I don't dance."
"Everybody dances! You just move, and you're dancing. How easy is that?"
"No I mean, I don't dance. I spazz. It's painful to watch. Me, spazzing all over the floor…" Your voice has grown quieter with every word, until you’re nearly hiding yourself by taking another gulp of that bright yellow liquor in your cup.
It's sweet and fizzy and tastes like sunlight might if you could drink it, so you empty another cup.
Flashing lights give you a taste of what epilepsy might be like and you feel the music pounding through the air and floor caress your every nerve. You feel fuzzy.
But it seems to be a good fuzzy. Warm happiness flows through your body like thick honey. Okay, maybe that happiness was just this overly sweet tasting booze, but you still felt distant in a nice way, and your head seemed to be floating, only attached to your neck by a string. The feel of Maggie’s sweating hand wrapped around your wrist distracted you beyond words, until you realized she was trying to drag you somewhere.
"Well then, let’s find yourself some company so you don’t get bored while you don’t dance all night", she giggles.
The two of you wended your way across to the other side of the room despite every protest that came from you; dodging tables, drunks, dancers, and others with ease, until Maggie seemed to reach her destination with a proud smile on her face. A group of men, most of them as unfamiliar as the better half of people here.
One of them you knew, though. It was Phil from floor 3. G., that computer engineer that had earned himself the title of Maggie’s friend, but with certain… benefits. However by the way these two were looking at each other through that heavy drunken lust in their eyes, one could assume they were actually more than just that.
Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you nervously nipped at your drink once again as Maggie introduced you to the group. A bunch of people that came to celebrate you, yet none of them even knew your name, you came to realize. Great. And if you weren’t slowly starting to feel very funny inside, that would’ve been just another reason for you to leave this party immediately, slip into your favorite pjs and call it a night.
"So, twenty-six, huh?" One of the men smiles and lifts his drink in a toast, gently tipping the cup against yours which snaps you out of your trance. Looking up, you’re met with long, silky curls that framed a slightly tanned and politely smiling face. Your eyes skimmed over his frame for a split second. His body was...compact, lean, firm, though not overly muscular. Just an average looking guy.
"Yep", you clear your throat and send the man an awkward smile that he answers with a chuckle.
"I‘m Ben", he says and for a second, you hesitate to take his hand that he holds out for you to shake. "Nice to meet you."
The impact of that barest of touches, a mere whisper of skin-against-skin as you shake his hand and he squeezes yours, was enough to send blood rushing to your cheeks. His hands are soft, too soft, you think. Ironically, that makes you think about the dozen times a day lately when you had caught yourself thinking about Quaritch‘s hands. His are rough, big and warm, littered in tiny scars that you could feel when he caressed your skin or when he held you in a bruising grip.
The ones that had you concentrate very hard, to not beg him to touch you, on running those fingers across your body. His hands weren’t soft like Bens, who probably worked behind a desk and spent most of his times indoors, preferably in an office of some sorts.
Ben was also polite, you realized right away. He held small talk like it was second nature to him, even though you couldn’t help the awkwardness in the beginning. But his voice is smooth like honey and his jokes actually manage to make you laugh. Genuinely.
But by the time you had emptied your next cup, you couldn’t even seem to focus on the conversation anymore. Everything had turned into a blur of movements around you, and you were grateful for Bens guiding hand as he placed a glass of water into one of yours and took the empty red cup from the other.
"Here, drink this", he said with a chuckle, "Can’t have the birthday girl pass out this early on her special day, right?"
For a moment that seemed endless to you but for anyone near sober it must’ve been nothing more than a few seconds, your eyes lingered on him. Ben was cute, you thought. Not that kind of puppy cute that could make you go aww and ruffle through his hair, but that kind that made you blush and feel hot all over. He was handsome too. For an average guy. But then again, you’re just an average woman, are you not? And kindness, real kindness, was something you suddenly felt very starved for, especially now that it was served to you on a silver platter.
Suddenly it felt as if that hunger was beginning to burn out of control. As if he could sense your feelings, Ben moved just a little closer, the heat from his body searing your skin as he placed a hand to your upper arm and tilted his head.
"Y-Yes, no, i mean–", you stutter, quickly adverting your gaze from him to the glass of water in your hand. "You’re right. Sorry, i didn’t mean to zoom out like that, it’s just been… it’s just been a week for me and normally I don’t drink. Not that much, at least."
His hand moves in a soothing motion, up and down on your arm as he listens attentively. Ben tells you that you have nothing to apologize for. He asks about your work, your studies. He nods along and smiles to everything you say and it makes you feel appreciated, on a level you can’t remember ever feeling before.
It takes an embarrassing amount of time for you to realize that you’re rambling about your work life. And it takes you even longer to realize that through it all, Bens hand hasn’t moved away. That all it did was move up, up, up until he reaches to cup your jaw, his thumb stroking over your cheek just as you explain to him how the the Pamtseowll can be used as a musical instruments due to the sound produced when the wind moves across the leaves of the plant. Looking back you realized, that must’ve been pretty boring for him to listen to, especially since Ben decided to cut you off mid sentence as he pressed his booze tasting lips against yours.
You’re taken aback from the sudden invasion of your personal space, especially when Ben wraps his arm around your middle and pulls you flush against him. But the alcohol in your system makes up for that pretty quickly, heat rushing up to your face and simultaneously between your thighs makes you feel tingly all over.
His tongue pushes past your lips and you gasp into the kiss, the cup in your hand almost slipping out of your grasp as you lean into it.
The allure of cruising for a quick fuck, or possibly hustling for one; no commitment, no strings makes itself known when a soft sigh, almost a whimper, escapes you. It could be so easy, you think. You could do it tonight and get it over with.
You had to do something about this, this feeling whatever it was, get it out of you.
And his lips already fit so perfect against yours, but that’s really the problem, isn’t it? They’re not too big or too small. His hands can’t close entirely around your upper arm. His chest is basically flush with yours. God, you’re almost eye level with him. He’s so normal, so average. It doesn’t feel special with him. There’s no spark behind his kiss, it doesn’t consume you, it doesn’t take your breath away. He doesn’t make you feel special.
No. This wasn't a good idea.
It was no use, picking a man that wasn't even going to be able to fill in for the one you actually wanted. The one who’s hands you wished were touching you now, instead of Bens. The one who’s lips you wanted on yours, so desperately, you couldn’t even stop imagining it were his instead.
Fuck it, you thought. If he could seek you out to find some temporary relief, so could you. And you needed one, needed him, before you did something you would surely regret in the morning.
Bens face was so close, you had to blink a few times to bring it into focus before you gave him a subtle little push and his lips finally detached from yours.
It must’ve been the sudden change of your facial expression, but he suddenly found the need to apologize for kissing you so sudden, so unsolicited.
"No, no, it’s not that. I just need some fresh air, I feel a little nauseous", you admitted sheepishly, which was both, the truth and a lie. You tried not to pay too much attention to the guilty look in Bens face as you excused yourself and quickly found a way to the exit without anyone taking notice of you, basically ditching your own party.
By now, you could make the walk through the dimly lit hallways to Quaritchs room in your sleep. Or, in this case, drunk and on uncoordinated feet.
Anticipation fills your hazed mind and with an enthusiastic thud, your knuckles connect with the metal frame, producing a muffled echo as you knock on his door.
Heart pounding rapidly in your chest, you eagerly wait for him to open, but the silence that follows is deafening. The realization slowly dawns on you that the Colonel isn't home and a mix of disappointment and frustration crosses your face. But you won’t give up that easily. If he’s not here, there’s only one place he could be at this time of the night.
Two floors up and down the corridor on the left, you could already see light beaming under the comically large door, loud voices and laughter echoing through the hallways that could already be heard as you had exited the elevator earlier.
Peaking into the common room that belonged to team Deja blue, you were greeted by a vibrant atmosphere where you knew the military men gathered to unwind after work. The space was adorned with patriotic decor, displaying flags, emblems, and photographs that reflect their shared commitment as well as their love for barely dressed na’vi pin up girls sitting on tanks and posing with guns. How ironic.
The air carries the smell of smoke and beer, and the musky scent of the day's work and you can’t help but shudder. Your inner warning sirens were working overtime as you stepped foot into the room, fear making your knees go weak, yet every sense of logic and common sense was overtuned by the alcohol buzzing through you. The room exuded a sense of unity, one you clearly didn’t belong to, making you stick out like a sore thumb.
Uniformed recombinant soldiers were relaxing on comfortable couches, their boots resting on coffee tables, engage in heated games of pool or cards -everything maximized to their ridiculous size.
It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for the first pair of eyes to land on your much smaller frame, before nudging the recom next to them with their elbow, pointing at you with their chin.
You try to ignore their boring gazes, the sound of low whistles and snickering picking up the more of them realized your presence. Pulling your sinfully short dress a little down lower, a feeling of regret fills your cheeks in a dark blush. But before you can change your mind and turn around to exit, a large palm settles on your lower back, keeping you from walking backwards out of the room.
"Hey doll face, where ya‘ going?"
Craning your neck up, you’re met with a grin that belonged to a recom that had a pair of sunglasses resting on top of his bald head. You knew he seemed familiar, but the liquor you had consumed earlier made it impossible to concentrate enough to remember his name.
"Oh excuse me, I- I‘m– I was just, uhm, looking for Colonel Quaritch?" You winced at the way you made it sound like a question, cursing yourself for embarrassing you by drunkenly rambling to a stranger.
"The Colonel?" He exchanged a look over his shoulder with some of the other soldiers, who were seemingly interested in what you had to say. "Why’s that, buttercup?"
"I, uhm, want to give him something", you improvise. "It’s urgent." That much was true.
The man looks you up and down for a moment, his eyes nearly peeling the little dress from your body as he takes you in, brows raised high.
"Give him something, huh? Why don’t you give that little something to me?" He laughs.
"He’s not here right now, but we can have good time together too", one of the others calls from behind.
You swallow the lump in your throat, awkwardly picking at your fingernails as your hands begin to shake. Deciding to back off and step back from the whole situation, you set one foot behind the other, already preparing yourself to mumble an embarrassing excuse before an arm wraps itself around your waist and you nearly stumble forward and into one of the soldiers arms.
"C‘mere pretty, I don’t bite", he grins, then points his chin to the bald soldier on his right, "But the Corporal over there sure does."
The men laugh and shove each other like a group of rowdy teenagers, and you’re honestly scared one of them could accidentally crush you if they fell. You use the short moment of chaos to wriggle yourself out of the soldiers grasp, only to be stopped short by your wrist.
"C‘mon short stuff, don’t leave", the bald one shows you an almost apologetic smile that you still struggle to trust. "Ignore these fuckers. Stay for a drink, yeah? I‘m sure the Colonel will be back in a minute. And we have the best beer anyone could get in this shit hole!"
Blame it on the liquor, but your mind was slowly beginning to draw blank, throwing all logic and consequences right out of the window and welcoming the nervous excitement of the forbidden. It felt like there was a pressure in your ribcage, making it harder for you to breathe properly, until you finally exhaled a shaky response.
"Just one."
The thing about working in the military is that you learn to kill your own tells. Killing your own tells is what keeps you from getting that double-tap to the back of the head. But learning how to pick up on what other people do when they're nervous as fuck, that's what’s really helpful, you’ve only just realized.
In hindsight, you should have known that agreeing to one beer that ultimately lead to two more and then to a round of poker was a bad idea. And now you’re perched up on someone’s lap and you don’t even know how poker works. That someone is named Lyle, you remind yourself of the previous learned name. His chin rests on top of your shoulder, nose buried in your shared cards that you hold up for him to see, one of his hands squeezing your hip while the other holds your hands steady.
"This one next," he whispers into your ear, pointing at the card on the far left before you laid it down in front of the table as instructed.
"Three fours showing, and over here…" The recom named Prager slaps another card down face-up in front of you. "Still garbage, sorry sweets. Ace high." Grinning, he pushes three colorful plastic chips into a pile in the middle of table. "I bet three."
The rest of the group remains silent, save for the sound of grinding teeth and stressed sighs.
The nervous trembling of your thighs doesn’t let up when the next round of cards is handed out, so you reach for the can of oversized beer and gulp the rest of it down.
"Relax, buttercup," Lyle chuckles, his hand soothing over your thigh, "You need to work on hiding your tells. You don’t want us to loose, do you?"
"Yeah but ya’ gonna if she keeps that up, Wainfleet," another soldier laughs.
"Poor thing is shaking so much, you might as well bet her next to finally get a lucky streak."
Crimson red fills the apple of your cheeks, barely visible however under the alcohol-induced flush of your skin. But even though your senses are as if in daze and directed at what is happening in front you, you still got enough situational awareness to realise that there’s someone standing in the doorway watching with a tense jaw.
"You gotta be careful," that someone says, the words flowing like nothing ever has, making the hair rise on the nape of your neck. "Betting another man's things like that."
And it should bother you, how easily he can categorize you as one of his things, like a gun or whatever fucking possessions he had, but it doesn't, because you are his. Aren’t you?
"Ah, boss", Lyle laughs, and you may not be a marine or recombinant or anything of the sort, but you could tell that he was nervous. Silence bleeds over the rest of team Deja blue as the Colonel steps into the room, sending cards go flying as he yanks you up by your wrist and throws you over his shoulder like a dead deer. Prey.
You squeak once the room has turned upside down, hands instinctively reaching for the hem of your dress to keep it in place as soldiers ogled the way Quaritch was walking you out of the room without another word and marched down the hallway.
The amount of times you’ve found yourself in his room could be counted on one hand, you came to realize, once you’re thrown onto his bed, almost bouncing off the oversized mattress.
A finger is pointed at you, and shame and dread uncontrollably fill your eyes with tears that dare to spill over as Quaritch barks at you like he’s lecturing a child.
"You listen here very careful, kid", he’s damn near yelling, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.
Kid.
Being now twenty-six years of age, you certainly took a degree of offense when a man his age still called you 'kid.' There wasn't much childish about you, never have been. Not in the last ten years, so there was no need for him to go running his mouths at you like you were twelve.
Balling your fists at your side, you barked right back at him, "I‘m not a child!"
For several seconds, there was nothing, and you wondered if you’d truly fucked up this time, and you don’t even dare to look up at the man towering over you like a mountain. That is, until the bed suddenly dips and a hand effortlessly closes around your wrist and manhandles you to bend over his lap.
You would squirm and fight and run if it weren't for the iron grip on your wrists, pinning them behind your back like the wings of a butterfly to a board.
"That’s right," he murmurs that part, but the rest comes out more sternly, "So quit actin‘ like one whenever something doesn’t go your way!"
The first blow of his hand descended onto your upturned ass comes so sudden and unexpected, sending you sliding forward over the muscular thigh you were bent over, that you couldn’t help but yelp, before you sucked in a sharp gasp of air as the sting spread through you. "What the— fuck!" You hissed. "What are you even talking about!?"
"What am I talking about?" Quaritch scoffs.
You barely forced yourself to relax when the next one came, making you jump, and duck your head down even lower in a vain attempt to scoot farther away from his hand.
"I can smell the liquor all over you, hun. And the way you were throwing yourself at these little creeps? Don’t act dumb with me. You and I both know damn well what you were trying to do here."
"Y-You’re imagining things!" You protest. Another slap, and this time you could feel the smooth fabric of your dress riding up, giving him unhindered access to the tender flesh beneath. "Fuck, that hurt, you–"
Blow after blow came over you, cutting off every complain and every thought that might’ve formed if you could concentrate enough, and you might have tried counting them but there were so many. Too many, and your ass was burning and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to say you were sorry, you'd never do it again, and maybe the Colonel would stop soon and you could just promise to be good—
But he didn't stop and you heard the smack again and one more landed, and god damn it really fucking hurt. You only realised you had started speaking aloud, babbling apologies and begging for it to stop when fingers ran over your panties, feeling for your throbbing clit beneath the thin fabric.
"Tell me, would you’ve spread your legs for them like you did for me? Thought you could just take what you want because I’m not giving it to you?"
One hand squeezed and molded a cheek, and you moaned as he groped the overly sensitive flesh. If you could gather enough strength to crane your neck and look at him, you would’ve caught the way his ears flicked at the sound of that.
Another slap, this time aimed a little lower, more gentle, with fingertips brushing over your folds at the impact and you let out another moan, less like a painful one and more in a way that was so unmistakable, that when you felt the thigh you laid on tense, you could only guess what was coming now.
"Does this turn you on, getting what you deserve?" Quaritch said lowly, the spanks stopping for a while in favor of torturing you with the barest of touches, rough fingertips flicking over that little bundle of nerves until you were whining and squirming.
"No," you then responded in a hushed whisper.
Pulling the fabric of your panties taunt, Miles gave you a mean wedgie as he inspected the wet patch forming right there. With a chuckle he told you, "you’re pretty little pussy is telling me otherwise."
"That’s– that’s not true!"
"Oh, it’s not? That means you did enjoy all this attention they gave you today, hm? You enjoyed having all these fuckers look at you like you’re candy they want to peel out of its wrapper?"
"I- No, I didn’t–"
Rough fingertips run up and down your slit, cutting you off mid sentence as you feel him pull your slip to the side.
"What were you even doing there?" His voice sounds calmer now, collected, as he thumbs your exposed clit.
"Was looking for you", you mumble, all fight gone the moment warm pleasure fills your veins the more he plays with you like this.
"For me?" Quaritch chuckles, brows raised high. "Why’s that?"
"You know why…" You groan when one of his digits that had been circling your entrance slides into you, painfully slow and teasing, just an inch before it slides out again.
"I do. But I want to hear you say it."
Biting your lip prevents you from giving in to his teasing, but it doesn’t help muffle the moan that’s slips out when he pushes back inside, letting you feel the stretch of your walls as they envelop not one, but two of his thick fingers.
"Missed me, hm?" He grins. You can’t see it from your position, but you can hear that shit eating grin in his voice. And then his fingers start to move. His palm smacks your ass with every thrust, fingers curling inside you to feel for that spongey little spot that made you gasp.
"C‘mon, say it."
He speeds up fast. Too fast for you to catch up with, forcing moans and wet squelching sounds out of you, until you huff out in frustration.
"Fuck, okay! Yes, I missed you." That one actually makes him laugh, enough for you to grind your teeth, turn your head and bark back at him, "And you’re an… you’re a jealous old man!"
"Yeah? That so?"
His eyes seem to pierce right through yours as he glances back at you, grin sharp and dangerous before he grabs you by the waist and spins you around so you’re pushed with your back against the mattress, instead of being uncomfortably bend over his thighs.
If there was one thing that was able to set the butterflies in your tummy alive and making them do little jumping jacks, it was the way Quaritch so easily manhandled you so you were bend like a pretzel, panty shoved down and over your ankles, who were now nearly touching your ears. It was harder to breathe like this, that was for sure. But you don’t mind the position one bit, especially with the view of him laying down flat on his stomach, head neatly nestled between your spread thighs as he admires the wet glossy look of your pussy just begging for him to finally fucking do something.
You had guys go down on you before. Two in total. And it wasn’t like they were necessarily bad at it, it was just that they apparently had learned one way to do it and then decided to stick with whatever that technique was called. And that’s when you decided that being on the receiving end of oral, it wasn’t really for you.
But with Quaritch, you knew from the very second the tip of his tongue parted your folds from your slit to your clit, that it was gonna be different.
It felt like the pleasure was shooting straight up your spine, making your back arch off the bed as he repeated the same motion once more, groaning when your slick juices hit his tastebuds.
"Holy shit", you let the words out in a shaky breath, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling above you.
"Eyes on me, cherry."
Glancing down on yourself, you catch the moment he spreads your folds with his thumbs to get better access to your clit that coyly peeks out from under its hood. Quaritch gives the little nub a teasing tap with his fingertip, and you both watch as a thin string of arousal and spit connect your clit with his finger before it breaks. Not even a split second later and he’s on you again.
You nearly choke on a moan when his lips close around your clit and sucks, his mouth halfway covering your whole cunt as he eats you out, tongue swirling around those sweet spots of yours. The noises he makes are wet, sloppy and so dirty, and it brings you to the edge of that pleasure high faster than you could process.
A hand reaches for his buzzed down hair as he gives you a filthy kiss right where you need it.
"Oh- Oh god, I think I’m gonna come", you moan as his hands slide up to hold you more open than you were before, so that he could taste you again and again, his tongue dipping deeper and deeper inside every time. Your hand curls tighter in his hair, tugging, and you worry for a moment that you were hurting him. Not that this was even possible. Still, you just couldn’t help it– touching him was the only thing anchoring you, as if you would float away and disappear if you‘d move your hands just an inch.
But Quaritch doesn't seem to mind, not if the way he groans, grinds his face against your pussy and thrusts his tongue deeper into you is anything to go by.
You could feel the pleasure growing inside you, in your toes and in your spine and behind your eyelids, and you arch against him, moaning at each touch of his tongue, his lips against your clit– sucking and slurping and kissing. It's building and you’re reaching for it, hips jerking violently as though to follow his mouth, and then you’re falling apart with a gasp that ebbs into a moan.
You don’t even hear yourself for the first couple of seconds, the blood rushing behind your ears drowning out the volume of your moans before your legs finally stop trembling and clenching around the head nestled between them.
Arms falling limp to your sides, you watch your own chest raising and falling in frantic pants. You’re spent and exhausted, truthfully. But you can’t help but notice that the wet glide of the Colonels tongue hasn’t stopped yet. It circles around your clit, not quite touching it, just teasing.
"Miles", you call for him, soft and quiet, voice hoarse from moaning. You’re not prepared for the sudden suction on raw nerves created by his puckered lips, and you cry out in surprise. Your legs twitch in overstimulation as he sucks and groans, the vibrations only adding further to the stimulation that quickly morphs from uncomfortable to pleasurable. "M-Miles, fuck! I- I can’t, wait!"
Your back nearly arches off the bed, if it weren’t for his his hands keeping you in place. It felt like his tongue was everywhere at once, licking every inch of your cunt, all those places that brought yet another orgasm rushing forward.
Unable to control the movements of your body, you pump your hips against his face as your stomach muscles clench and your head digs into the pillow underneath you.
"Can’t, I can’t", you mewl, "s‘too much!"
"No, you will take it", he says, barely lifting his head to speak and the air that blows out between his words send a full on body shiver through you. "You will take it because that’s what little sluts get. I‘m only giving you all this attention that you were seeking today and now you’re complaining?"
It takes a moment for you to find your voice.
"I‘m not- not a slut", you protest. Glancing down at Quaritchs face, his wet chin and lips slicked with you, his lips curl in diabolical pleasure.
"No? Then whose humping my face like this? Who’s been fucking dripping all over my thighs from being spanked, huh? Cherry, you are a little slut. A desperate one too."
His sharp tongue then flicks over your clit again, and you break into a thousand pieces. It feels so good you’re shaking, as red hot pleasure surges through your veins and clouds your vision. Your second orgasm ebbs away faster than the first, but is nonetheless as intense. The feel of sticky wet arousal soaking the sheets below you makes you cringe and you want to move away, but the iron grip he has on your thighs doesn’t falter. If anything, he just holds you more secure, pulls you closer, to press his tongue into you as far as it could reach.
"Oh god- please, I can’t!" You nearly sob, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes while Quaritch flattens his tongue to catch every droplet of slick running down your slit. "Give me a break!"
"One more," he purrs, dark and sinister, his sharp grin visible even as he peeks up from between your legs.
"I don’t know if I can," you whine, throwing your head back at the invitation of sensations that just don’t let up.
"You can and you will."
The pressure of his suction continues as he moves his tongue, trailing it along your lips and over to your clit again. He sucks the sensitive nub and then slides two fingers inside your body, curving them, increasing their pressure as your loud moans turn into screams.
Miles wraps his free arm around your waist, stilling your trembling hips and locking you in place. He increases the thrusts of his digits, rubbing intently against your walls as he sucks harder on your throbbing clit. He's determined to make you see stars and it’s for him to decide when this insanely pleasurable form of torture is finally over.
You could only hope, pray and moan to him, god or whoever– as you felt the beginning tremors of what you hoped would be your last orgasm for the night course through your body, and your legs clamp tightly, unable to withstand the sheer intensity of it.
Sensing the growing tension in your body, Miles suddenly pulls back, replacing his mouth with his thumb on your clit, stroking around the glands before touching it directly, causing you to cry out.
He grins, catching his breath, and then continues his assault on your body until you’re past the point of return, walls clenching around his fingers and thighs pressed firmly to his shoulders, framing his head.
It’s heat against heat, hot tongue against hotter folds, and you throw your head back and sob with relief. It’s good, really good— his tongue is long enough so that when he laps at you he hits your clit on the upswing every time. Your hips buck once its too much, his tongue nearly rubbing you raw but he holds you down and then it becomes just right as you fall apart with a cry.
It takes several minutes for your senses to come back together, regain your vision and hearing, and when you blink your sore eyes open, you’re met with Quaritch‘s, just as he’s finishing leaving a final mark on your inner thigh. His teeth have left a purplish imprint on your soft skin and he grins at you.
"You’re mine. Never forget that."
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avatarart · 2 days
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Posting with permission from the artist, malinka624!
Please check out their Twitter and go show your love for the original post!
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marymary-diva17 · 3 days
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Can we get one shot of Spider having a headache in the forest with the recoms but not telling anyone instead using what the Navi use for pain medincied, but he gave himself too much. I love all your story
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Being captured by the RDA and along with see your birth father and his buddies alive, and Navi was not something that spider could ever see happening and his young life. Now he was tasked on teaching them how to survive on pandora, while dealing with everything around him.
Spider “ …….” spider had been feeling the effects of headache as she was watching miles and the recoms trying to adapt to become navi. He didn't know if the headache was caused of frustration or not drinking enough water today.
quaritch " hey kids are you okay"
spider " well I'm having a bad headache right now"
lyle " hey colonel is everything good with the kid"
quaritch " no it seems like junior has a headache hey does anyone have any medical supplies on them"
lyle " let check we might have something that can help you kid"
spider " I got it"
quaritch " hey kid you shouldn't be going around with a headache it not good"
spider " I know sir but I have something that can help with that" spider soon walked passed quaritch and the recoms, as he was looked for s specific tree and fruit that can help him. He soon stopped the tree with the fruit, and soon walked close he had soon bulked the fruit from the tree.
quaritch " wait there a moment kiddo before you start eating, any stranger looking fruit is that even safe"
spider " yes the healers and scientist said it will be good for humans to eat ... that has happened after some times of living here" spider soon bit into the fruit and felt the pain of the headache going away.
spider " that helped good"
Z dog " wow kid what is that fruit"
spider " it called dapophet they will be able to heal you"
lopez " what the suppiles we have with us"
spider " oh yes that can help but you are now navi no more human, so what has helped you as human might not help you that much anymore" the group looked at spider as she ate more of the fruit, and soon had the seed left and buried it.
spider " if you are going to make it here you all will need to learn, the ways to survive here" the group had nodded their heads towards spider.
spider " now come on lets get going there is much work that needs to be done"
quaritch " well you heard him lets get going everyone packed up the stuff, and we will head out in a few"
recoms " yes sir" spider had been able to help the group learn some of the ways of being navi, but he knew they were going to have a hard time dealing with their past and now the future.
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sullyfortress · 1 year
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I've got a string of memes that I NEED so prepare. This blog is turning into serious/meme avatar.
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blind0demon · 1 year
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Best father moment
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stuzsa · 1 year
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Have someone done this already?
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nat-but-free · 4 months
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those parents on the parents evening
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1-0t0r · 1 year
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valentine doodles, hope yours was better than the colonel's!
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cyberfreaky · 7 months
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you were whining pathetically, feeling a fire burning down your thighs as you bounced on his cock. he was leaning back on the recliner, one hand placed nonchalantly on your hip while the other nursed a glass of whiskey.
his eyes were fixated on the screen behind you, casually sipping his drink while you got yourself off on his lap. your sweet moans mixed in with the re-runs he watched on the television, and he’d eventually turn up the volume slightly. you were the desperate, little thing that wanted to ride him during his cool-down time. he didn’t feel the need to stop you, but that didn’t mean he had to pay you any attention.
though, the way your perky tits bounced with each lewd movement soon caught his interest. your dark hair flowed down your shoulders, pretty mouth agape as you whimpered in pleasure. he’d give your ass a hard slap, biting down on his lip with a rough grunt. you’d squeal at the sudden sting, earning a heart laugh from your lover. you were so caught up in the intimate moment that you hadn’t even noticed him staring at you again.
“there she is.” he’d chuckle, kneading the fat of your ass as you fucked yourself on his thick length. “havin’ fun?”
“mmhm..feels s’good..” you’d babble pathetically, tears pricking your eyes with each languid bounce. his fat tip kept hitting your sweet spot, your quiet mewls gradually turning into pitched cries. “f-fuckfuck!”
a smug grin would paint his lips as he felt your walls squeezing around him. you were such a good girl, even when you were a ‘lil needy. the pad of his thumb rubbed firm circles into your puffy clit, the added stimulation made you see stars. you were minutes away from gushing all over his manspread lap.
the squelch of your creamy pussy was delicious, he loved seeing you work so hard for your sweet release. “that’s it, darlin’.” he’d jeer. he watched you with amused eyes as your movements became slow and lazy, faltering into sensual hip rolls instead. “atta girl. ride daddy’s cock, make a mess f’me.”
jake sully, miles quaritch, simon (ghost) riley
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— all rights reserved © cyberfreaky (2023) do not repost, translate or copy my work without given permission.
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sarrows-show · 5 months
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another commission with avatar, it seems I’ll be in the fandom soon haha.
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tarrynightss · 1 year
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How they are during your pregnancy + how they are with the baby
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Pairings: Jake, Quaritch, Tonowari, Tsu’tey x fem!reader
Warnings: Pregnancy, childbirth (nothing graphic), fluff
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Jake Sully
With Jake the pregnancy would definitely be a planned thing. He does his best to prepare himself, talking to Norm and anyone else he can find that has a good pair of brains. He wants to know exactly what to do in every situation that might occur, even reading up on it. It’s cute and you are glad that he’s doing his best to protect both you and the baby, but after you are a few months in, you almost want to rip his head off when he asks “Does your back ache? What is your pain level on a scale of 1 to 10?” yet again.
He’s constantly fussing over you, especially when you are getting close to your due date. The regular checkups from the human scientists have your Tsahík fuming, but Jake wants to make sure all ground is covered. He’ll take all the death stares if that means you and the baby are healthy.
Jake almost starts running circles like he’s in looney tunes when the birth starts. Another Na’vi has to force him to sit down by your side, and even then his tail is constantly swatting all over the place in anxiousness.
The type to say “god damn!” when he watches the baby being pushed out, making you almost snap his hand in two.
He won’t be able to take his eye off of his child when it’s born, hugging both you and them to his chest. He’ll kiss your sweaty forehead, crying as he tells you how well you did and that he’s so proud of you.
Sorry but when the baby is a few weeks old he definitely pretends to drop it because he thinks it’s funny, earning angry hisses and swats from you.
Will constantly cuddle with the baby when you aren’t holding them, rubbing his nose against their little belly. He’ll also love squishing their cheeks together and playing with their tiny ears, having them make funny faces at you.
Gags at least once when changing a diaper but doesn’t complain, just soldiers through.
Miles Quaritch
Who gave this man another kid?!? You did, and when Miles finds out he almost drops dead. He had just kinda assumed that they had snipped his ability to reproduce away just as they had snipped his ears. Boy was he wrong.
When your stomach starts growing and your urge him to touch it, he does so with much reluctance as he’s scared he might hurt the child. The tiniest hint of movement under his hand makes his ears perk up, and he’ll bend down to lay one against your belly. Na’vi hearing is incredibly good and he hears the thrumming heartbeat of your child instantly. “Our baby,” you whisper and caress over his hair. He repeats it back to you, accepting it a little bit more.
Miles continues telling Spider that you’ve just gotten fat until finally the boy has had enough, clearly seeing that you are pregnant. He gives his dad an earful about how he couldn’t even take care of him, so why the fuck is he having another. A valid point, but Miles tries to tell both himself and Spider that that was human Quaritch, not him. The boy accepts it just because you’ve always been a motherly figure to him, but he shoots Miles glares whenever he comes near.
He does his best to take care of you but this man is not exactly used to being gentle. He’ll cuddle you and rub over your stomach and back, trying to suite your aches. Where he fumbles is when you’ve been up almost all night, puking your insides out, and he dares to complain about his sore back. SORE BACK?!! He’s sleeping on the ground after that.
Strangely enough, as the months progress the pregnancy seems to be what forms you, Spider, and Miles into a true family. Both enjoy putting their hand on your stomach and feeling the baby kick, Spider letting out an excited “wooow!” at the force every time.
Miles starts sharing with Spider the few memories old Quaritch had of him as a baby. “Your head was gigantic,” Miles tell him, staring up into the sky with a grin. Spider laughs out a no, peeking over you to see his father. You lay like this often now, side by side as a family. “Humongous,” Miles doubles down, making you all cackle.
Miles is scared when you give birth, his eyes tightly closed as he holds onto your hand. He knows he doesn’t deserve to have this after all he has done, but lord, please let you and the baby be alright. He holds his breath till finally, he hears the baby’s first cry, his eyes snapping open. Both of you cry as you cradle your child close to your heart.
Suddenly becomes an expert on how to handle babies, constantly telling Spider to be careful with this or that, barely even letting him hold the baby the first few days.
Takes pictures of your child with a leaf hat on or something and finds it absolutely hilarious.
Carries the child everywhere, strapping them to his chest like a real male wife.
Tonowari
The first child born from your union is nothing short of a blessing to him. Even when your stomach is barely noticeable, he constantly touches it and it becomes a comforting feeling for the both of you.
Parades you around in front of the clan like you are the rarest jewel. He’s so, so proud of his beautiful mate, so happy that she’s carrying his child. He wants the whole world to see.
Tonowari constantly gives you massages, not even giving your feet or back the chance to start aching. He was already big on doing so before, but now you aren’t leaving the tent before the morning massages are done.
He’s so supportive and there for you that he goes as far as to hold your hair while you puke. You can scream your hormones out at him all you want and this man will just smile to himself, noting how ferocious you look like this.
Tonowari basically is the midwife during your birth, holding onto your arms as he helps you pace your breathing. When you push he puts his forehead against yours to comfort and support you.
Holds the baby up for the others to see after they’re born, the biggest smile on his face. He won’t stop bragging about his child to anyone who will listen. Every bump or blink is worth a reward in his eyes.
Takes the baby to watch over the ocean, telling them stories about all his adventures. When the baby eventually starts being able to point, he’s absolutely delighted, following to see what their chubby finger is pointing it. Whether it’s a simple barnacle or a fish, Tonowari will tell his child in great detail about whatever peaked their interest.
Tsu’tey
Finally. He has waited so long to have his own family and he’s absolutely overjoyed when he hears the news. He’ll pick you up and spin you around while laughing and cheering, making everyone around you wonder what is going on.
Tsu’tey was always protective of you, but with the pregnancy that gets 10 times worse. He’s constantly hovering over you, never letting you go out alone in the fear you’ll get hurt. You try to assure him you’ll be careful, but that’s not good enough. Too much can happen in a blink of an eye. He simply won’t allow it.
Instantly starts collecting beads for both the baby’s songcord and for their first neck piece, though the second will still have to wait a long time to be worn. He’s just too excited, already fantasizing about all he will teach his child, all the memories they will make.
He talks to the baby every night when the two of you are alone. Tsu’tey lays his head against your belly and tells your child all about his day, but also stories about what he and you have gotten up to in the past. It’s heartwarming to you to just lay back and watch him, chuckling now and then at his words.
Tsu’tey doesn’t just hold your hand during birth, he sits behind you, holding in his lap. He breaths with you as if one, stroking lovingly over your arms and legs as he encourages you to keep going.
Love is a word not strong enough to express what he feels for your child. As soon as their eyes meet, he smiles the brightest he has ever done in his life. The baby is perfect in his eyes, a beautiful mix of the both of you.
He loves sleeping with the baby cuddled up against his chest. At first he was too scared he might crush them, but after you swore you would watch him during those little moment, he gave in. It were the best naps he’s ever had, his heart beating as one with his child. Tsu’tey hadn’t thought he would ever feel this at peace.
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pandoraslxna · 5 months
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Classified briefing
Miles Quaritch x female scientist reader
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Words: 2.7k
Summary: Briefings can be so boring. Luckily, Quaritch has his favorite little lap warmer with him to make to whole thing so much more entertaining.
Warnings: explicit smut, no plot at all just porn, in public, age difference, size difference, cockwarming but with toys, authority kink, voyeurism, sex toys (anal plug, vibrator/dildo), public humiliation, everyone kinda thirsts over reader because this is my dirty little fantasy hehe
Notes: i wrote this back in august and then totally forgot about it until now so here it is, not proofread at all and not my best work either lol
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There’s a long, polished table that stretches across the center of the room. The table's sleek design exudes elegance, and the smooth surface reflects the room's cold, overhead lighting. It makes you feel even more out of place than you already were.
You can’t help the tremble of you knees once your eyes fall to Dr. Garvin and Mick Scoresby, both of them considered big fish in their area of ​​expertise. You swallow dryly, nervousness slowly creeping up under your skin.
A gentle push to your lower back signals you to move, and then your feet automatically carry you further into the conference room. Most seats are already taken up, each person exuding an air of authority and importance, and a hushed silence falls over them as you near the table.
Glancing to the handful of free seats and based on their ridiculous size, you could only assume who they were reserved for.
The recoms act like a bunch of rowdy teenagers. Pushing each other in a fight for the seats in the far back, snickering and cursing, and you want nothing more than to hide your face in your hands for all the attention they draw on themselves and ultimately on you, too.
Thankfully, they all fall silent once the Colonel clears his throat and takes the first seat, thighs spread like he owns the place. Again, you feel so out of place, frantically looking around to find a place to sit and make yourself even smaller than you already were, next to those trees of blue soldiers.
But before you can even do as much as blink, all chairs seem to be occupied and you find yourself standing, nervously fiddling with the seam of your skirt, before two big hands grab your hips and pull you down to sit on a warm lap.
In all honesty, you were already expecting him to pull a stunt like this. Obviously there had to be a reason for him to bring you here, and not just because he thought you were oh, so interested in a meeting that had absolutely nothing to do with you or your work at all.
Quaritch grins and pulls you closer by your waist, a huff of breath fanning over the top of your head at your little whine of discomfort.
Sitting down makes you hyperaware of the round little silicon toy, the plug that’s sitting snug inside your ass since he himself had placed it there a couple of hours before.
"Be good while I work and I’ll reward you later", he reminds you quietly, squeezing your hips in a warning grip and you nod, blushing. But the faint rosy color on your cheeks soon turns into a deep flush of red that spreads all the way to the tip of your ears, once Miles pulls a little, pink remote, barely the size of your thumb, out of his pocket and places it on the table right in front of your face. You know what this is for. Not for the plug, no, but for the other toy that’s spreading your pussy open, the one you’re currently clamping down on.
For a moment, all your attention is fixed on staying still, not moving too much like that would remind him to turn the switch on and—
"With all respect, Colonel", a voice suddenly speaks up, then a finger is pointed at you and your breath hitches in your throat. "What is she doing here?"
Scoresby looks at you, then back up at Quaritch, and while he doesn’t speak to you directly, the message is clear. It seems Miles feels the way you tense up, because his hands begin to run up and down your thighs, thumbs rubbing soothing circles over your skin.
"Keeping my lap warm", he grins and shrugs in an act of fake innocence, and Scoresbys jaw clenches so tight at the sound of snickering coming from the other recoms, that you‘re sure you just heard something crack.
He actually looks a little relieved at the voice of Dr. Garvins as he politely chimes in, "She’s from the scientific department, sir. That means she’s certainly not qualified enough to b–"
"I- I can leave, it’s okay", you cut him off, causing all present pair of eyes to fall onto your smaller frame. Your attempt to stand up however, is quickly interrupted by Quaritchs arm around your middle, pulling you back down and keeping you there, firm and secured. No chance to flee.
"No, you won’t."
The tension in the air is thick enough, you could probably cut it with scissors. There’s a uncomfortable silence, before the Colonel opens his mouth again, smug as ever, "Her qualifications are none of your concerns, doctor. In fact, I am her qualification to be here. Now if you would please move on and wrap this up so we can all go on with our days? I have other businesses to attend to."
Dr. Garvin, in no mood to argue with the recom that’s over twice his size, straightens up, clears his throat, nods, and moves to the center of the room to stand in front of a big holographic map.
His voice is still a little shaky, a thin layer of nervous sweat sitting on his forehead as he starts the briefing like nothing’s ever happened. The recoms sitting to your left and right instantly scoot back in their seats, settling into more comfortable positions like they’ve been through enough meetings like these to know this could take an awful while.
You allow yourself to finally exhale the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, shoulders hunching a little as you try to listen to what was being said in front of you.
Something about na’vi clans, metkayina, the ocean, weapons, their relations to something they call Tulkun and then over time, it flows into all that war talk you can barely keep up with.
Not that you could actually focus, really focus, on anything other than the pair of hands roaming up and down your thighs the whole time and the feeling of being so full, so on edge, but not being able to do anything about it. His palms are warm and rough on the soft of your skin, squeezing the flesh of your inner thigh from time to time, which causes you to clamp down on the toys inside you. You close your eyes briefly- inhale, exhale.
When you open them again, you desperately try to find something else to put your focus on. Next to you sits Lyle, the Corporal plays with a pen, flicks it around in skilled fingers, looking just as bored as the rest of team deja blue. It’s actually quite interesting to look at, you think. That is, until he catches you staring. Your eyes meet and he winks at you. Straightening up, you glance in the other direction, trying to hide to blush spreading over your cheeks.
Lyle may be an exception when it came to Quaritch‘s possessiveness, but that doesn’t mean the Colonel won’t tease you for this.
Your whole body tenses when suddenly, a low vibrating buzz shoots through your core, putting your nerves on fire. The suddenness of it all gives you barely any time to stifle the gasp that falls from your parted lips, quieting down the whole room. Your ears are ringing, pleasure surging through you in pulsating waves, before Quaritch switches the toy off again. Well, not entirely off, but at least to the lowest setting. Enough for you to calm down again.
Blinking away the stars behind your eyelids, you realize, to your absolute horror, that Dr. Garvin has stopped talking. And he is staring right at you, mouth slightly agape. And so are some of the other humans. The other half that’s not looking at you, is trying their absolute most to keep it that way, staring at the papers in front of them or counting the tiles on the ceiling.
"Excuse her. Normally she knows how to behave", Quaritch breaks the nerve wrecking silence with a chuckle, "Please, move on."
Garvin clears his throat, sweat now beading at his temples as he stutters to continue where he had left off.
"Corporal Weinfleet here is trying to concentrate, darlin'", Miles hums lowly into your ear, hands gripping your waist to pull you down harder against his lap. "And you’re being very distractive."
His hands hold you down, and then he makes your waist circle on his crotch, hard enough to feel the plugs heart shaped handle grind against his cock.
"S-Sorry, I’m sorry", you whimper quietly, biting your bottom lip to keep yourself from making any more noise.
"Don’t tell that to me", he grins. One of his hands then tips your chin up and gently turns you to look over to his right hand man, who’s grinning back at you like this is the most fun he’s had in weeks.
"Sorry, Lyle", you mutter, big doe eyes looking up at the recom.
You know there are important words being said. Things about trade, unions, Tulkun, hunting, Sully and all the work that still needed to be done to catch this guy you’ve heard so much of. Over an hour has passed of nothing but strategizing and thinly veiled arguments and it’s safe to stay, you’re slowly loosing the battle against your own body’s desires.
The vibrator still weakly buzzes inside you, and you struggle not to squirm on Quaritch’s lap, you really do. But it’s just so difficult.
Your breathing has started to come out in shallow pants, nerves being on edge for way too long now, and then Quaritch leans forward, curling a piece of hair behind your ear so that he can murmur into it.
"Relax, princess", Quaritch whispers. "Just trying to take the edge off for you…" Your lace panties are absolutely soaked with arousal by now, and your teeth scrape over your bottom lip as you inhale sharply through your nose when he flicks the switch and the vibrations turn more intense. Your toes curl. But you don’t move. "Good girl, doing so good for me. That feel good, hm?"
Motherf— "Yes, sir", you shakily exhale. Just a little more, you think. A little more and you could… if only you weren’t in a room full of people.
Miles fingertips stroke gently up your thigh, causing little goosebumps to appear and your entire body to shiver at his caress. It’s a battle not to tighten every muscle against it, to let it roll through you for everyone to see, because the alternative is far more dangerous. You know for certain that he wouldn’t have even the teeny tiny littlest bit of a problem with bending you over this table and fucking you raw for the whole conference room to see, if you wouldn’t behave and sit still. You swallow thickly at the thought and fuck, you wished you didn’t bought that mental image up because you clench around the plug, around the vibrator, feeling both toys rub against each other through the thin wall that’s separating them.
Someone coughs at the other side of the table and your eyes flicker up to Scoresby, sitting three down at the head of the table. He’s watching you with a cocked eyebrow and a barely concealed glint in his eye. 
He knows, you think. You can see it in the way he looks at you, filthy and creepy and— Another wave of pleasure shoots through you like lightning, the vibrations picking up and it causes your entire body, including the walls of your aching holes, to tighten even more, and the tiniest little whimper to escape from the hollow of your throat before you can swallow it down.
Your cheeks flush, the tips of your ears heat, and you quickly turn your attention back to Quaritch just as he opens his mouth.
"You like having that nasty fucker look at you, huh?"
You try your very best not to keen from the feel of your sticky underwear clinging to your pussy, pushing the toys deeper in as he pulls them up a little, giving you a mean wedgie under the table.
"N-No, sir", you whisper.
"But you’re putting on quite the show." Miles grins, sharp toothed and mischievously, his eyes boring into Scoresby until he finally adverts his gaze, his nervousness covered by yet another cough.
"I‘m– I’m n-not…", is all you manage to force out, panting heavily.
Your back arches and just like that, the vibrator is at the perfect position. Just up against your g-spot, the silicon tip rubbing so slightly against the oversensitive ridges.
Your fingers grasp at his forearms, blunt nails dig deep into the thick blue skin, as you focus more on clinging to him than how full you feel, how each breath you take makes the toys move ever so slightly to tease you deep inside and how the vibrations are on their highest level, ruining you from the inside out and causing your whole body to physically shudder.
You’re so ridiculously wet, natural lubricant squeezing around the toys, drenching your panties and now soaking a small patch onto his pants where you’re seated. It feels good. So good, and you’re so close and everyone can probably hear how heavy you’re breathing, so you think fuck it and rock forward with the smallest ”mmh” and a bolt of pleasure shoots up your spine. Quaritch can feel his cock twitch with the growth of his own impatience.
"Look who’s getting bold", he chuckles quietly, and you dare to roll your hips forward. "You want to come, huh? So close, ain’t ya?"
You feel eyes on you. Prager as he dares to put a hand over his cargos and squeeze his aching cock. Mansk staring so shamelessly at you, like his sunglasses make him invisible. Feel Lyle next to you tilt his head to try and catch a glimpse of what’s underneath your skirt.
Feel Miles hands on your hips, tight enough they might bruise your skin as he rocks you back and forth on his crotch, clit dragging over the wet fabric of your panties.
"Please", you whine softly, eyes fluttering close as you let pleasure overtake all your senses, not even caring for the fact that you’re in a room full of people.
"M‘not holding you back, darlin'", he speaks lowly into your ear, bouncing his leg a few times to push those toys just an inch deeper inside you. "Come, if you can keep it down."
Your brain had completely checked out sometime around when your abdomen began to clench with your exasperated breathing and the throbbing between your thighs became so unbearable, you slumped forward. The cold table top against the burning hot skin of your forehead felt like a relief and you had to bite your tongue hard, to not moan out loud.
The vibrations inside your core felt like they were shaking and stimulating ever single nerve there was, to the point all you could do was let it happen. Your whole body felt hot, sticky with sweat and other body fluids as you clamped down on both toys for the final time, before you fell apart with a choked little gasp, followed by silent whimpers of, "Hngh– fuck, f-fuck!"
"There you go, buttercup", you heard Lyle snicker next to you, only adding further to the humiliation you tried so hard to ignore. "About time."
Your whole body locked up, thighs squeezing shut and muscles tensing, as you tried your absolute most to hold back all those pathetic little noises.
"You owe me twenty bucks, Mansk. Told ya‘ she can’t hold it in", came as a whisper from your left, yet you couldn’t put your focus on that voice enough to figure out who was speaking. Ja maybe, or, or… fuuck, fucking hell.
The vibrations inside you went on and on for as long as Quaritch doomed you were capable of, and it felt like you were still coming, until he finally, mercifully, decided to shut the toy off.
It was almost comically how you instantly went slack on his lap, the moment the vibrator inside you stopped working. The content little sigh that left your parted lips was all you could hear, as the room had turned awkwardly silent over the past few minutes.
Then, a dark chuckle sent a chill down your spine, as Quaritch looked over at Garvins stunned frame and said, "You were saying, doc?"
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avatarart · 3 days
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Posting with permission from the artist, malinka624!
Please check out their Twitter and go show your love for the original post!
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kayimx · 1 year
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YOU KNOW WHO THIS MOTHERFUCKER LOOK LIKE LOWKEY??
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LOOOOK
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sullyfortress · 1 year
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flateggss · 1 year
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who’s goddamn white baby is that
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