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whxre-bxby · 7 months

Note

I think it’s okay to take plots aslong as you don’t have everything word from word, I know the very popular one is the jake sullys daughters x miles quaritch

Okay, this is based on a previous request someone made for this scenario, so here you are :)

"Forbidden But Desired"

Recom Quaritch x f. Human Y/N

(Based off a fanfiction on AO3 called "Forbidden Fruit Tastes The Sweetest")

Masterlist

Summary: (Y/N is in Spider's position) Quarithc captures you and finds out you are the daughter of the man whose memories and DNA he has. Being the only person he feels any emotions too, Miles can't help but have you to himself.

Warnings: Smut, Angst, Non-con, somnophilia, indirect incest in a way?, penetration, unprotected sex, size-difference, age-gap, use of 'daddy',

Word Count: 4383

A/N: Sorry I'm so slow with uploading. I'll finish off the current requests, then I'll see if I even re-open them. Thank you for all the kind support though, it makes me really happy that so many people enjoy reading my work. Apology up ahead if this smut seems 'half-assed', I used to be more passionate about this

The room was cold. It was something you’d never seen or been in before. Even the lab back at home was not as cold and quiet as this. You could hear your own thudding heartbeat and every breath you took. The silence scared you.

Yesterday, the worst thing to probably ever happen to you happened. You were taken from your family. The Sully’s. When the humans left Pandora, you were left behind because you were just a toddler. Born here, you stayed here. Now, of course, it had been many many years since your biological parents had died. You found out at the age of 15 that the man responsible for this was, Miles Quaritch, was your father. But you felt nothing towards him and while hearing that definitely disturbed you, you weren’t upset by his death. In fact, you felt relieved he was gone. And you were ready to spend the rest of your life proving that you are nothing like him. Now, a few years later, the information has settled in and you’ve managed to work past it psychologically. Just because you’re related by blood does not mean you have his intentions. In fact, being related to him makes you more passionate about protecting Pandora from others like him. But as one of the few humans left on this planet, that would be difficult. You’re a ‘big girl’ now, as Jake says when he talks about your responsibilities. He trusts you fully and raised you along with his kids. They are family to you.

But a few months back, the Sky People were sighted again and we knew they were back. Hiding was currently our only option. Perhaps they had different intentions this time?

That thought died down the second a group of Avatars found you, Lo’ak, Tuk and Kiri in the forest. They must have come from the humans because of their clothes. They spoke English too. Their Na’vi was broken and hard to understand.

While trying to escape, you fell. You can’t remember what happened but you have vague memories of being carried by the Avatar who seemed to be leading the group. Then you woke up here, all alone. Your toes felt cold and your spine sent a shiver through you as you retreated into a corner of the room.

The Avatar from before had come into your room a few times already. He introduced himself and you refused to talk to him. You barely even looked at him. But when he told you his Avatar had the memories of the person you hated the most: Miles Quaritch; you couldn’t help but stare up at him in disbelief. Examining his features, you were quick to realise that he really did look like your so-called father. His presence intimidated you and you didn’t know how to feel about him. He didn’t seem like a threat to you. Your instincts weren’t ringing the alarm bells. You knew he wasn’t a good person, but there seemed to be some kind of string attaching the two of you. One that you both refused to acknowledge or act on.

Quaritch would tell himself he’s being all nice to you because he’s trying to get information out of you through manipulation. You would tell yourself that you hate him and that he’s just as bad as the human version, but somehow, deep down you asked yourself whether he could be different.

Miles was gentle with you, restraining himself from raising his voice when he questioned you and you would stay quiet. He started to bring you your food, hoping it would help you gain trust towards him. But he hated himself for trying to train you like some dog. Compared to him, you were a tiny creature. ‘A delicate little girl’ he thought, often finding himself admiring your features. Most of them were your mothers which seemed to only draw him more to you.

He also seemed surprised that you had grown so much. It obviously made sense because he knew that many years had passed since the war, but you were hardly the little girl he had so few memories of. You were almost a fully grown woman and he wished he could be proud of himself for it, but he knows he had no part in your life until perhaps now.

Today, things took a big turn. You lost track of time, not knowing whether you were sleeping through the days and crying during the nights or the other way around. It had been too long since you had seen the natural daylight or felt the fresh breeze of the wind. Being inside this awful room was so still and dead, it oftentimes made you feel ill.

You sat curled up in the same corner once more. Miles had visited you during the morning, giving you your food and water. While you slowly ate the dry food, he tried to talk to you about things that weren’t related to his mission. He was asking about you. But not because he needed it for work, but because he cared. Miles realised he cared about you on Day 3 when Ardmore had suggested to just ‘get rid’ of you because you weren’t cooperating. Not even her tortuous methods worked on you. The thought of that happening made him panic inside and he managed to persuade her to give him more time. Though he wasn’t sure exactly how much time he was getting for you, he knew he would rather disobey her orders and ‘set you free’ in the forest instead of leaving you in her hands.

He didn’t feel like your dad and he knew very well you didn’t accept being his daughter, but there was a deep emotional connection between the two of you that neither of you have with anyone else. Miles has been left to himself since he was brought back as an Avatar. Everything had constantly been strictly professional and work-related.

You are the only personal thing he has in his life. The one person he feels he can let his guard down in front of. The only real person he actually seems to enjoy being around. Also, the only person he misses when he’s alone and not in your room.

This is why he was spending his evening behind the mirrored glass, watching you softly cry in your little corner. You couldn’t see him because the glass only showed your reflection but he was there and he felt guilty for leaving you in such a state. You had been showered, cleaned and fed. But you weren’t happy and he could clearly see that. Miles knows he shouldn’t care as much as he does, but he can’t help himself. Something inside him longs for you and makes him want to protect you, even if it’s against his own people. He often feels like he needs to protect you from himself. After all, he’s the reason you ended up here. He knows he’s causing you your suffering, so he tries to think of ways to reduce it.

The large automatic door opens and he steps inside. You hold your breath, glancing up at him and holding back your tears. It annoys you when others see you at your most vulnerable. You don’t like feeling small, but oddly enough you don’t seem to care about that around Miles. His presence affects you differently. Almost as if you feel safe enough to cry and relax in his presence. Something your logical mind would clearly say no to.

He gazes down at your small figure. His sad eyes take pity on you.

“Come with me.” he says. The words were meant to be spoken as an order, but instead, his voice grew soft and became oddly comforting.

You stand up, not thinking twice about his words. Anything to leave this room. He seems pleased with your sudden cooperation so he leads the way, making sure you’re close by. There’s no need to handcuff you or restrict you in any other way. He can catch you in seconds if you attempt to run away. You yourself know you don’t stand a chance.

Quaritch leads you to a secluded hallway and uses a cyber key to unlock a door. The frame fits his size so you assume it’s made for Avatars. His large blue hand pushes the door open before his eyes glance back at you, silently telling you to go inside.

You listen, slowly walking inside and looking around once he switches the light on. It’s his room.

“I’m not gonna let them treat you like some kind of animal.” he says, clearly seeming angered at the thought of that.

“You did..” You reply, turning around. Your English isn’t at its best because you normally speak Na’vi. But you manage.

He seems affected by your words and his eyes lower in disappointment.

“Not anymore.” he says, promising that to you and to himself.

“They don’t get te’ have you anymore.”

His words confuse you.

“But you do?” I ask, wondering what changed in his head to make him suddenly almost hide me with him.

He doesn’t answer that. Miles doesn’t know how to. But he knows that if anyone gets you it's him. He has a reason for you to belong to him. You are emotionally connected and he’s the one that captured you. It only makes sense. But to tell you his thoughts won’t happen. You’re too pure to be told that you’re being kept by him. Words won’t tell you, but you’ll find out soon enough anyway. Perhaps through actions.

His room was split in two. The bedroom and what you assumed to be a bathroom. He pointed you towards the bed. You haven’t seen anything like it before but by looking at it, you could tell it’s soft, so you obeyed him and lay down.

He watched you settle down for a few moments, noting how innocent you were. Nothing about climbing into his bed seemed wrong or even slightly uncomfortable to you. He knows it’s because you live differently than he does, but it amuses him. You lay down so willingly, almost tricking him into wanting to lay down with you.

Quaritch managed to push his thoughts away, leaving you alone in the room as the bathroom door shut behind him. You didn’t mind anything at this point. You were just happy to not be cold and uncomfortable anymore.

Time seemed to fly by because of how comfortable you felt, wrapped in this large blanket.

You heard the same door from before creek open and Quaritch stepped back into the room. He changed clothes or rather removed some. But seeing him without a shirt on didn’t really faze you. After all, that’s how you’ve always seen all Na’vi. But Miles had much more muscle mass. You could probably stare at his torso all day if you had the chance. The feeling confuses you because you don’t do that, ever.

He walks up to the side of the bed, peering down at you once more. The sight comforts his cold heart. You look happy which means he’s managed to help you in a way.

You’re on the brink of falling asleep when you feel the mattress dip next to you as Quaritch lays himself down. The blanket is all around you which makes him chuckle.

“You can’t have it all, you gotta share, princess.” he grins, looking over to you. You open your eyes and look at him, not understanding what he means. So to help you out, he pulls the blanket from you which makes you frown. An expression that amuses him further.

“No.” you whine, trying to grab it back.

“Don’t worry, it’s big enough for both of us, kid.” he chuckles lowly. The blanket is now on him but you’re too far away for it to reach you.

“I want it back.” you plead, watching his eyes study you while he grins. Instead of responding with words, he lifts up a corner of the blanket and smirks at you, as if he were saying that you must lay there to get it.

You stay still for a few moments. Your mind is loading. But Quaritch isn’t feeling that patient today. It’s his room, his rules, so he reaches for you and pulls your right against him so that your back is pressed against his chest.

“What are you-”

“Sleepin’ in my bed comes with terms and conditions, sweet’eart.” he replies in his gruff, sleepy voice.

His large, heavy hands wrap around you, making it impossible for you to leave. But oddly, you don’t want to. His body warmth comforts you and you start to relax your tensed body.

Your eyes grow heavy and before you know it, you’re asleep.

Miles feels your soft breath fan against his arm and he feels like he’s cradling a kitten. You’re so small and beautiful to him, he knows he must be careful having you around him.

Being so close to you makes him realise how good you smell and how soft your skin and hair are. You just look so inviting, he’s having a hard time falling asleep. Instead, his heartbeat is starting to pick up speed, involuntarily riling him up. In the back of his head, he doesn’t feel wrong for handling you like this. Taking advantage of your innocence doesn’t seem that wrong to him right now. He would never hurt you, but he’s done worse than this, so it doesn’t seem to faze him. Especially when the slowly building arousal is starting to badly influence his common sense.

You’re so close to him and you’re his. He has a right to be with you. You belong to him. Why shouldn’t he be able to explore and use what’s his?

His thoughts go wild as he starts to hesitantly imagine all the things he could do to you. You’re just laying there, so relaxed and available for him, he can’t just say no. He slowly unwraps his hands from around you, keeping his eyes trained on your body to make sure you’re still asleep.

When you don’t move, he tells the guilty part of him that you want this. Even though he knows he’s fully taking advantage of your size and innocence, he’s too worked up to let this go. His shorts feel tight around him and his growing erection, but he doesn’t focus on that just yet. He wants to see you for you before he focuses on himself.

They didn’t change you out of your Na’vi clothes, so most of your skin is exposed to Miles anyway. His hands move your hair to the side, exposing your back and the small strings keeping your chest piece attached.

His heart is now racing. He can’t believe what he’s doing but he won’t stop. Not with you looking so pretty in his bed.

Quaritch props himself up on one elbow, while his free hand gently traces your body, running from your shoulder, along your side and to your hips.

He leans forward, massaging the soft flesh of your hip before pressing his lips against your warm skin. His eyes close and he inhales deeply, not being able to get enough of the way you smell. Then, Miles pulls away, kissing you up to your shoulder blade. You’re so soft he feels the urge to just grab you and sink his teeth into your flesh but luckily for you, he doesn’t. Knowing you will probably shy away if you’re awake, Miles decides to explore you further by himself so that he can take his time toying with you instead of having to hold you down and keep you quiet.

Carefully, he slides the blanket off the both of you and sits up to properly look at you. He starts to fumble with the strings of your top, untying them and watching them loosely drape around your back. Miles’ large hand then finds your shoulder and he gently pulls you to him and turns you onto your back. He can’t wait much longer so he takes one string in between his fingertips and lifts your chest piece up, gently pulling it from your calmy sleeping body.

He draws a deep breath to stay composed while his darkened eyes drink in your bare chest. Such a pretty young thing you are, fully on display to him and only him.

He wants to devour you and drag his tongue and lips over every inch of your body, but he can’t risk waking you up just yet. He needs to see more before he can start touching you.

Miles slowly moves onto his knees, sitting by your legs. You’re wearing a loincloth like all other Na’vi. Something he hated before, not liking how they imprinted their culture on you. But now, he was almost thankful you weren’t covered in human clothes from head to toe.

He takes the material covering your crotch at the front and lifts it up to reveal that you aren’t actually bare underneath. You’re wearing something similar to panties except out of their woven fabric. Miles ignores the small beads and pattern of your loincloth and just hooks his fingertips under the sides of your waistband and slowly pulls it down your legs, teasing himself.

Once he lays eyes on your bare cunt Miles groans, struggling to stick to his plan of just looking. He knows now that he won’t be able to just admire you. He needs you for himself.

God, you’re just so beautiful he can’t help himself. His large hands gently wrap around your legs, parting them to fully expose your pussy to his predatory eyes. What a pretty little thing you’ve grown to be.

You look so tasteful, Miles has to touch you. His fingers trace an outline around your pussy, watching a small shiver overcome your body in your sleep.

‘So sensitive’ he thinks, wondering whether you’ve ever done anything sexual with someone before. But judging by the way your body seems to eagerly be responding to his smallest touches, he concludes that you really are as innocent as he thought. It also means he needs to approach this with a gentle hand, not to scare or hurt you.

His fingertip slips between your folds, gently massaging you while watching your reactions. You’re still asleep but your breathing seems to occasionally change patterns. Your warmth has Miles feeling excited to feel it around him, whether that will even end up working. He had to stretch you out for him first, knowing he could hurt you if he didn’t.

His fingertip continues to gently flick over your clit, rubbing you along your slit until he feels the flesh give in and he reaches your hole. Slowly, Miles starts to push his finger into you and a deep growl rumbles through his chest when he feels the slick start to form inside you. But you’re still so tight, which he loves but he knows he must relax your muscles to make this pleasurable for you. You're his little girl after all, he can’t have you crying in pain underneath him.

It’s his job to care of you.

He starts to work you open for him, gently pushing two fingers into you now. Miles lowers his head closer to you, noticing that your slick has started to seep out of your tiny hole. His fingers have spread it all over your pussy until it is now glistening and shiny, making his mouth water. He must taste you, to confirm you’re really his. His mouth has to explore and experience his girl.

He uses his tongue to pleasure you and take away the slightly uncomfortable feeling his fingers may be creating inside you. Miles’ eyes stay trained on your face as he peers up at you. You’re still asleep which amazes him.

Once your pussy has managed to engulf his third fingers, Miles can’t wait anymore. That’ll do. He keeps your legs resting open for him while he pulls his loose pants down to his mid-thigh, finally freeing his aching erection. He knows he won’t fit all of him into you. You’re too delicate and small, but anything will do for him at this point.

He wants to guide you through this experience because he knows you have no idea about these kinds of things.

Seeing himself as your closest person, he feels he has the right to be your first. To take away the virginity you were born with, and lead you through this step of becoming a woman. To ‘break you in’.

He reaches down, wrapping his hand around his shaft before pressing his tip against your heat. Miles hears you sigh in your sleep and your head turns to the other side, but your eyes stay closed.

He starts to rub himself against you, covering himself in your sweet wetness while letting his precum drizzle down onto your pussy. A shiver of excitement runs up his spine when he imagines how he’ll fill you up with his cum and permanently mark you as his. So that when he is finished with you, you’ll still be stained with his scent, making everyone who ever crosses you know that he claimed you.

With that thought, he starts to slowly apply pressure to your hole, gently pressing his tip against it until he feels it give way and start to let him in. Once his tip is almost in, he lets go of himself and positions himself above you. Your eyebrows are furrowed and your breathing has quickened, but you don’t seem to be awake just yet, so he continues to push himself into you.

He sharply inhales when he feels how tightly you’re squeezing him, but he can’t stop. Fuck it feels too good. His hips involuntarily buck forwards and he forces himself inside you until his tip hits your cervix. His eyes are closed in bliss, cherishing the feeling of being so close to you.

A small whimper makes Miles open his eyes and he meets your confused eyes, slowly waking up. You rub your eye, glancing around the room before looking up at him. He can see that you have no idea what is happening yet, so he slowly withdraws his throbbing length from inside you before pushing back inside. You clench your jaw, sucking in a pained breath and gasping.

“What’s happening?” You ask, trying to sit up but Quaritch restricts you from doing so by hovering over you. He dips his head down to your neck, placing soft kisses along your warm skin.

“Don’t worry, baby. You’re in good hands.” He whispers, starting to rhythmically move his hips against yours. Your mouth is parted in surprise. You feel him deep inside you and it‘s so unexpected, you don‘t know how to react.

“Miles-“ you whisper in a shaky voice, not sure whether you should ask him what he’s doing, whether to stop or why you weirdly don’t hate it.

“Shh, let me take care of you.” He whispers, nipping at your neck with his fangs while he continues to gently thrust in and out of you.

“Daddy’s little girl” he hums into your ear. “Be good and stay still for me.”

Your small hands go up to grip his shoulders and you give him an experimental push but Miles won’t budge even a bit. So instead, you hold on to him, but you’re not sure why.

One of his hands snakes down between your bodies and he starts to toy with your clit again, watching your confusion and pleasure mix. The stretch of him hurt you but somehow, that made it feel nice.

“How’s that feel, sweet’eart?” He asks, continuing to massage you with his rough hands.

Your innocent eyes find him while you try to think of an answer.

“Good…” you whisper, wondering whether he might stop now but Miles doesn’t.

“Mhm,” he hums, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Do you know what I’m doin’?” He asks and his voice sounds gruff.

You shake your head ‘no’.

“Makin’ you mine.”

His words make you feel more excited and Miles notices this when your pussy clenches around him. A smirk appears on his face as he continues to drive himself into you. He realises your tight muscles are finally easing around him so he quickens his pace, seeming happy that your body has accepted him inside you.

“M’ gonna fill you up, baby.” He grunts, starting to slowly lose control of his steady pace. Your stomach feels fuzzy and it makes you spread your legs further, hoping it will make the good feeling stay. It does. Miles instantly receives your invitation and starts to rut himself into you

You hum in pleasure, not feeling too bad about this. Jake was a father to you. You barely knew this man, so it didn’t seem that wrong to you. Miles however knew some part of this was wrong, but he wasn’t related to you biologically, only through memories.

His fingers rub rough circles over your clit and you gasp before the bubble inside you bursts. Your body trembles and your muscles spasming around Miles help him over the edge and into bliss. His biceps and core muscles flex as he shoots his cum inside you, thrusting a few more times to make sure he’s stuffed you full with it as much as possible.

Once he starts to calm down, Miles takes a little pity on your small figure. He knows he took advantage of you, but he won’t dwell on it too much now. Instead, he lays himself down next to you, rotating your body with him so that you're both lying against each other and on your sides like before. He keeps himself halfway inside you to prevent his cum from dripping out of you. You need to stay full until morning. Then at least, he can replace the last load with a fresh one. Fill you up until your womb is full of him and until you can’t walk anymore. Maybe he’ll do this to you every night, just to make sure it’s clear to you and to Jake if he meets you again, that you belong to Quaritch and no one else.

Tag List: @ken-dala @ikranwings @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @numarusworld @number1gal @jatwow

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whereireid · 1 year

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𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇 — based on this ask | masterlist

pairing: miles quaritch x fem!reader

Summary: What Colonel Quaritch misses most about planet Earth are the woman. Luckily, you're a human whose more than eager to please to your superior.

— warnings: interspecies relationship ! nsfw content MDNI: tit fucking, imbalance of power, ruts

There is nothing that Colonel Quartich misses about Earth.

Nothing but the women.

Pandora is beautiful. A world with extravagant wildlife, the nature of the planet so beautiful and blue, with specks of lilac purple and lavender hues. It's foolish to not be in awe of such beauty, and Quaritch is no fool. He is in awe of everything that Pandora has to offer.

Except the women.

The women of Pandora. The Na'vi, and the Avatars, made of carbon fibre — body hard, rigid and strong, conditioned to survive the difficult climate. Though beautiful, with specks of Aqua blue and long, delicate limbs, they're not plush. There's nothing soft about the women of Pandora.

Quaritch wishes that he could be attracted to them. Especially since a perk of being an Avatar now means he suffers through a rut — a period where he literally gets so horny that the only way to cure his arousal is to fuck something.

Anything.

Even when in a rut, though, he can't bring himself to do it. His hands will linger on an Avatar, falling on their skin, which is hard and rough, and every feeling of arousal will disappear.

Quaritch needs relief. Desperately. His hand isn't enough anymore — it just leaves him with more frustration than before he even tried.

So, when he spots you, it feels like fate.

You're a scientist, a newbie, with pinned-up hair, two curls crusading down the sides of your face, a soft smile on your lips. A soft smile, which meets your eyes and has the corners crinkling. His eyes fall, tracing your body with his eyes, and he realises that he's found exactly what he's been looking for.

Quaritch waits, and watches. He's not sure when the right time to approach even is. He's been out of the game for a long time, now — the women of Pandora don't need charisma. They're easily pleased.

So, when you approach Quaritch, he's incredibly thankful.

"Colonel," you squeak, staring up at your superior officer, your small frame practically trembling beneath him. "I was asked by some of the other members of the science team, to ask you if on your next mission to the forests of Pandora, if — if you could bring back some fresh fruit."

He blinks down at you. Once, twice. You shuffle on your feet, neck craned in an impossibly awkward position to be able to see him. You're smiling, and it doesn't waver. Not even when he scowls, and grunts, "I can."

"You — you can?"

"Do you make your other superior officers repeat themselves?" Quaritch asks, trying to ignore the discomfort in his pants when your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"No, Colonel."

"I didn't think so." He kisses his teeth, tongue darting over his fangs. "I can get you the fruit, but only if you can do something for me."

"Anything."

Quaritch smiles.

That's how he manages to sort his issues out.

You're so delicate that it drives him crazy. All sense of dignity was abandoned long ago, when he'd first made his proposal — how could you say no to somebody whose so desperate for relief? Perhaps you are, too, with your crush on the Colonel consuming you, day-in, day-out.

"You're so soft," he says, his voice so low that it sounds like he's growling. His fingers toy with your nipples, rolling the buds between his fingers, watching as your breath hitches as he does so. "Sunshine, you have got no fuckin' idea how hard you make me."

"Show me," you whisper, voice sultry and seductive, tensing as he fingers pinch at your nipples gently.

There's nothing more perfect than you. In that moment, every issue of Quaritch's erodes away. He's got you exactly where he wants you — on your knees, your tits pushed together as much as they possibly can be, his cock sheathed between them.

"That hurt, sunshine? Squeezin' 'em so tight just to please me?"

You nod your head, your lips drawn between your teeth, your eyebrows crinkled in concentration. His cock is all lubed up, making it that much more slippery. It's so soft, so plush, your tits so perfect and round. So big, on human standards, but so small in comparison to his cock.

Holy shit, you're perfect.

You let him use your tits like you're a fuck-doll. Quaritch fucks into you, rolling his hips into your tits, groaning as the squelching sounds of the lube clap around his office. They bounce, they jiggle, they take him so well, and your eyes are so focused and you're pushing your tits together so hard, just so he can get a good grip.

It makes his orgasm that much better. His cock twitches, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. There's a heat which pools in his lower belly as he finishes, painting your chest with his cum, some shooting onto your chin and lips.

You're such a pretty mess. Quaritch collects his cum from your face, pushing it between your lips, and you suck, and he groans. His cock is still nestled between your tits, basking in the softness of you, the pillow-like cushion of your flesh.

He's going to have to do this again.

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normsdaughter · 11 months

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Speak up, Love. - Pt. 1

Miles Quaritch x fem!reader

Summary - Selectively mute!reader is an incredibly important scientist + medic who was killed while tending to soldiers in an active warzone before becoming a recom and getting taken under the wing of renounced colonel, Miles Quaritch.

Warnings - Explicit content, no smut, selectively mute + smart reader, sub reader, mention of blood (he spits blood into her mouth), fighting, alludes to bullying (Lyle to reader, other soldiers to reader), smut in future parts, petnames ‘sweetheart’, ‘darling’, and ‘good girl’ used

‘"they're simply jealous. Like the assholes earlier. They were jealous of you. I wished to speak to you, whereas I got disgusted by even looking at them."’

——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/

Colonel Quaritch is wrapping up his orientation speech to the rest of the recoms, yourself included. Amongst the tall blue aliens all of you have found yourselves representing as, you are visibly smaller than most, if not the entirety of the crowd. Even in your human form, you would’ve seemed pitiful compared to them.

It would be easy for anyone here to portray you as inferior to them. You’re not a soldier. You don’t hold the rank they do.

You’re unimportant; simply a medic who was somehow trusted enough by your superiors to be present on a hostile planet, yet idiotic enough to have wound up fatally injured.

Very few, maybe even none, of these people are aware that given the incentive, you could end them without a second thought.

"Ah, Corporal Wainfleet. Good to see you again." The colonel says after wrapping up his speech, looking at the man next to you, Lyle Wainfleet. You've never even made eye contact with the guy, yet he dislikes you.

You’ve heard the way he speaks of you when he assumes you can’t. The way he degrades your work, your intelligence, you.

Lyle nods in respect, shaking Colonel Quaritch's hand as he stands and leaves.

"Ah." The colonel says as he steps to the side, leering over you as you look up from your seat. "Hello." He tilts your head up, his fingers pressing under your chin.

Your eyes narrow, but only slightly. Lyle halts in his tracks. He looks back towards your conversation, as do most of the recoms still in earshot. Hums and Haws start to slip from their mouths.

So, they’ve pinned you as an outsider then.

Corporal Lyle leans his weight onto the foot closest to you. He sucks in a breath. “She’s, um.. That is-”

The colonel leans back on the heels of his boots. He’s looking at Lyle through the corner of his eyes, not bothering to dull his harsh expression.

“I know very well who she is, Lyle.” His voice drawls on the other man’s name, his tongue running over his teeth as his inferior hurries to justify the stuttered attempt of an introduction that Col. Quaritch didn’t want nor need.

"She doesn't speak very often, sir.” Lyle offers finally, a smirk dancing across his lips as he finishes the sentence. “In all honesty, we don’t think she can, except for when she is displaying her quote en quote, ‘revolutionary’, scientific work.”

He laughs. “I think she might be too cowardly to face peoples reactions when she opens herself up to conversations that don’t affirm her high opinion of herself.”

The colonel raises his eyebrows at you, a soft expression of concern, his fingertips grazing your jaw as he turns away. "Hm, Lyle?"

"Yes, sir?"

“It would do you well to mind your own business.”

His eyes flick back down, returning his undivided attention to you, while lowering his voice for just your ears to hear. "Oh, I definitely know who you are. Would you be interested in, well I don’t know, proving your competence to your superior?"

As your eyes widen, you realise that it would probably be in your best interest to respond to him. You ought not to be disrespectful to your superior, so you move to nod in response.

If you speak, you will either embarrass yourself and attract even more attention towards you and the colonel, or you will try and your voice will simply not comply, humiliating yourself in front of one of the few superior officers who has not yet been properly acquainted with you, or your work.

Colonel Quaritch’s fingertips hold you in place, depriving you of a silent manner of response. You can hear his voice in your ears, despite it not leaving his lips. ‘If you want to say yes to me, you have to find a better way to do it.’

You open your mouth, your shoulders shaking in tune with your voice as it fails you. "Y- ye, I.. hm."

His fingers leave your face, taking pity upon you, allowing you the privilege to respond to him without losing any more decency than you have already, which if you consider it, may be statistically impossible.

As soon as he allows you the ability to move your eyes away from his, you do. You glue your eyes to the ground, giving a small nod. Noticeable enough to satisfy him as a response, yet not so frantic as to prompt mocking comments about your enthusiasm.

Muffled snickers make their way to your ears from across the room, and your heart falls. You had assumed that the colonel’s squad of recoms had left the room, or removed themselves from earshot at the very least.

Colonel Quaritch turns to face the group of recoms in the opposite corner of the room, his face twisted in irritation. Clearly, he is a man that doesn’t approve of being interrupted. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" He snarls, his hand resting on your shoulder. The group of eavesdropping soldiers quickly scatter, trailing off in the direction of the mess hall. If they are in search of food, they shall be disappointed. Any leftovers were likely cleaned away a while ago.

"C'mon." He commands, tugging on your shoulder. You stand, finding the height difference between him and yourself impressive. He must’ve been one of, if not the tallest in the room. There must be at least a foot between you. You could probably find his file somewhere, get his exact height. The colonel interrupts your train of thought, placing his hand in a fist around your wrist. It’s gentle, allowing him to have leverage without putting you in pain.

He leads you behind him through the RDA base, drawing attention with every step he takes. While you walk, - he walks, while you get dragged - You attempt to make it seem as if the staring is lost on you, distracting yourself by watching his tail slide along the back of his calf, every so often lifting up and swishing across the front of yours.

On your tippy-toes, you reach out and use your free hand to tap on his, very muscular, upper arm and grab his attention. He wouldn't notice you otherwise, you think. Even if you stood in front of him and stopped him from walking, he would simply shove you aside. The colonel seems to be lost in his own world most of the time. Not in the way you are, though. In a cocky way. He holds himself in a way that says 'I don't care what you think of me. I don't care about you, why should I? Do you care about the roach that crawls over your shoe? About the millions of ants you squash throughout your lifetime? You are nothing but a mere insect to me, why should you matter?'.

He stops in his tracks and turns to face you. If the two of you hadn't already attracted enough attention, you're gaining more by the second. "What is it?"

You raise your eyebrows and point ahead of you, careful not to accidentally gesture towards anyone. Where are we going? You want to know.

"Oh darl, I have heard legends about the way you fight, your insane talent in mere hand to hand combat that most men cannot equal with any weapon known to mankind.. You have no idea what I would've done to get you in the ring. Yet, you - for some reason - opted out of being a soldier.”

You nod with a smile dawning on your face, him slowly matching it with his when he senses the pride that he instilled in you. His grip, almost loosened to the point of letting you go completely, tightens again as you walk towards the gym. A path clears in the colonel’s wake, your eyes facing the floor to avoid accidentally catching anyone else's as you pass. The colonel slows as he notices your discomfort, swapping his grip on your wrist for his arm slung across your waist. You lean into him, as if when you get close enough you can melt into him and disappear.

He pulls you down a hallway with next to nobody down it, "Shortcut. Less stares, if that was troubling you." He glances to the side, giving you his eyes. You nod. You dislike the attention that Colonel Quaritch is drawing to you.

His grip on your waist loosens slowly, and eventually he lets you slip out of his grip and trail a few steps behind, likely because of the severe decrease in crowding around you. You glance up from your feet when the soft thudding of his footsteps disappears, to find that he's stopped in front of a heavy-looking door and is fumbling in his pockets.

You run your eyes over him, zoning in on a shiny ring hooked to one of his belt loops. Hanging from the ring are a few keys, and a square card that gives him access to his room. You presume he's looking for one of the keys that are resting against the fabric of his pants, and remove the loop from his body while he rummages through his pockets.

You take a few steps forward, slipping past the colonel, and kneel down to look at the keyhole. Colonel Quaritch steps towards you in wonderment as you slide in the door’s key. You turn the key in its hole, and receive the affirming click.

You pull the key out and step back to let the colonel open the door, but you forgot he was directly behind you. You falter from the impact of stepping into him, stumbling downwards, but his arms snake around your waist on instinct as your back hits his chest. You let out a sigh of embarrassment.

You try to resume your plan of moving back to the side and following Quaritch into the gym, but his arms tighten around me, holding you in place.

"Not yet darl. How did you unlock that?"

"You were looking for the key, and I saw your keys. I took the keys, then I looked at the keyhole and I matched the key with it. I was right about all of that, so now the door is unlocked. If you would let me g- g, g-"

"Wow. That was a bit of a breakthrough for you huh, sweetheart? That's a lot of words in a short time. Good job darlin.”

You move your hands around funnily to accompany words that will not come out, slipping out of Colonel Quaritch’s arms and turning to face him. The Colonel raises his eyebrows patiently, watching you, slightly amused. He gives you his tablet to type on.

You nod softly, your fingers immediately beginning to type.

'I don't really like speaking. I never have. Eventually I just became accustomed to staying silent. Sometimes I just can’t bring myself to get words out. I find it easy to speak about my intelligence though, except when I feel like I am going to be singled out for it. I like explaining the process of my thoughts. People don't like it when they can't understand things, I like it when I can help them understand.'

When you turn the tablet around to show it to him, he takes a second, making sure to read it carefully and correctly. He doesn't want to miss a word.

"I'm glad you can speak about your intelligence darl. I'm sorry that people single you out for it, they're simply jealous. Like the assholes earlier. They were jealous of you. I wished to speak to you, whereas I got disgusted by even looking at them."

The blood rushes to your face as the colonel watches you carefully, taking you in. He taps the tablet lightly, tilting his head. 'Do you have something to say?'

You take the tablet from his hands, staring at the tablet blankly, before shaking it to erase the previous writing.

'Thank you, Colonel Quaritch.' You type.

"Colonel Quaritch is long. Colonel is fine." He mutters, his eyes on the tablet.

You shake the tablet to erase your writing once again, raising your eyebrows and biting your lip as you type.

'Just colonel?’

"Yes."

You slowly hand the colonel his tablet back as he leads you into the gym. He goes through the door first, capturing any possible attention, dragging it away from you. You follow through after him, glad to find that there's nobody inside.

The colonel grabs your wrist again, and pulls you towards the wrestling ring in the corner. He stops halfway, positioning you in front of a punching bag, and supplying you with a pair of boxing gloves. He stands behind you, the sight of his shadow towering over yours nearly bringing you to your knees with the wish of sinking into the ground.

You pull on the boxing gloves and tighten them appropriately, and stand still while the colonel repositions you. He lays a piece of tape a few centimetres in front of your feet, and you bring a foot forward to rest the tip of your boot against it.

You try to buck out of his grasp when he places his hands on your hips, but he simply pulls you backwards and grips you tighter, fingertips already forming bruises. He tilts your hips at an angle, and promptly releases you. "Sorry, darl, but you have got to be tougher than that."

You nod, quickly and apologetically, while he steps out from behind you. He stands, on the edge of getting in the way, far enough to be safe from accidentally getting wiped out by the punching bag, but not out of reach if you happen to do it on purpose.

'Square up' he gestures, and you follow his command, lean your weight into your toes, and throw a punch. A hard punch. It could've been harder, though. Even so, the punching bag is flung into the air. You step aside as it comes back down, catching it as it swings past you. Having slowed it down, you release it, and let it fall back to its original position.

"Good girl," the colonel snarls, positioning himself behind the punching bag. He takes a few steps back, for his own safety.

You shift your weight ever so slightly, and take a second punch. To the colonel's dismay, you hold back, and the bag doesn't swing into his face.

"Don't do that."

"W-?" You tilt your head slightly

"Don’t hold back on me. I'm strong enough to take whatever you throw at me, darling."

You nod, punching again, as hard as you'll go, so the chain that's hoisting the punching bag doesn't break or come unravelled. The force of falling to the floor usually splits the bag open. It's happened before. Quite a few times actually.

Colonel catches the bag, almost half effortlessly. He throws it back. You punch it once more.

He nods slightly while catching it. "Good job." He passes it back, and you throw another perfect punch.

Catch, throw, punch. Positive affirmation. Repeat, repeat.

The colonel catches, throws, makes his way behind you, distracts you. You step aside, and Colonel Quaritch gets hit square in the chest with a punching bag. He stumbles back and falls to the floor. After giving a small, quiet chuckle, you walk over and kneel next to him.

"Sorry darl, that was my fault.." He winces. You tilt your head softly, giving him a patronising thumbs up. He rolls his eyes, and smacks your hand down. You cradle your wrist to your chest in overly exaggerated pain. "You can punch harder than that. We both know it."

You shake your head, calling his bluff.

"Oh darling. Stop lying to me. I was there. I know what you can do."

You scrunch up your nose, tilting your head to the side in confusion .

"I saw you knock down those punching bags. Every. Single. One. Every time."

Blood rushes to your face again, your cheeks flushing a deep purple.

"Yeah, there you go. You know what I'm talking about. You know you're proud of yourself. You should be sweetheart."

I nod quickly, waiting for him to get to the point.

"You know what I want you to do, darling. You need to punch it as hard as you can, you want to and you know it. You want to break it. Can you do that for me darl?"

You smile through pursed lips, an attempt of hiding your pride in your own strength. You bring yourself to your feet, positioning yourself in front of the punching bag. When you look towards the colonel for his approval, you find his gaze already glued on you. He nods affirmation, and you take a deep breath while getting into position. Shifting your hips, you squeeze your eyes shut. Once you open them, you let out a deep sigh, and throw your fist against the firm exterior of the punching bag.

You step aside, breathing in and out with relief as the bag circles the rafter it's dangling from. The chain, rusted, ancient, and distressed, gets halfway unravelled before snapping off. The bag slaps the floor beside the colonel with a loud thump, and fortunately without splitting.

The colonel rises to his feet, and once you pull off the boxing gloves, he shakes your hand. You gesture towards the ring and he nods once, sharply. Your hair brushes the insides of his thighs as you bend down to retrieve your gloves, and he takes a sharp intake of breath before getting a pair of his own. You slip under the bottom rope, and he climbs over the opposing top one.

You meet in the middle of the ring, and the colonel's voice softly counts down.

"Three, two, one-"

You throw a punch to his chest, and he's forced to take a couple steps back and regain his breath. He doesn't get the chance though, as you throw yourself against the ropes to propel a kick into his stomach.

He coughs softly, spitting a little bit. He places his gloved hands on your waist, and throws you onto the ground. He places one of his feet on your spine to flatten your back, and sends a kick bouncing off your skull. Your gloves reach above your head, grabbing onto his ankle. You tug it, and the loss of balance removes his foot from your back and brings him down to your level.

Jumping to your feet, you force a foot under the colonel's stomach, and flip him onto his back. You bring a knee to his stomach, leaning all your weight onto him. Colonel Quaritch squirms. sputtering, trying to shove you off of him. He eventually topples you, your head slamming against the floor. His feet outstretch, trying to push you out of the ring and onto the ground as he squirms. Once he realises his efforts are going to waste, it's already too late, and you’re straddling his stomach. While you send a punch to his nose, his hands come to your waist, ready to throw you off. You slam one of your hands to one of his wrists, but it's too little too late. The hand you assaulted goes to the ground, but his other one pulls you down with it. He climbs on top of you, making you whimper slightly.

He's crushing you with his weight. You tilt your head back onto the floor and scrunch up your face before you look back up to face him. You take in his features for a mere few seconds before his gloved knuckles slam into your right cheek, the left side of your face landing against the ground so hard that you’re sure there's a black eye forming. A drop of the colonel's blood falls onto your bruised cheek, and you look up to see the blood from his nose dripping into his mouth, and dripping off his face.

"Need a break darling? Too much?" The colonel chuckles, looking down at you condescendingly.

A smile dawns across your face, before you punch him in the eye hard enough to send it spinning for a full 360 in the socket. His smile matches yours, and so does his attitude. The colonel punches you in the chest, making you gasp for air. He takes the chance and spits his blood into your mouth. You gag, choking on his blood, and turn to the side to spit it out. Well, you try to, but his fingers stop you from moving. Before you get the chance to resolve it by just turning to the other side, his hand slips from the side of your cheek to under your chin, holding you in place.

"What a fucking bitch." He grunts with a chuckle, and you shake your head as violently as you can with your face in his grip. "No, darling. You are. Yeah, you are."

You glare up at him, your eyes holding his.

"I knew you were strong, but god, sweetheart. You are fucking magnificent. Swallow." He growls, the familiar snarl you’ve heard him use many times before seeping into his voice, and a drop of blood falls from his philtrum onto your bruised cheekbone.

You gather up saliva to return his blood and spit, but his hand slides over your mouth and forces your head down on the ground as more of his blood drips onto your face.

"Nah, darling. Don't do that." He lets your head come up slightly, just to bring it back down to the ground, somewhat gently.

Your gaze softens as his hardens, and you reluctantly swallow, the metallic taste of blood sticking around as it usually does.

"Hm." He chuckles. "Good girl. Good girl."

You squint your eyes at him in anger, quickly flipping him on his back. Kneeling one knee next to him, you bring the other to his crotch, and strike as hard as you can. Once. Twice. Thrice. Four times. Fi-

He grabs you by your collar and hoists you up to face level, making eye contact with you. He doesn't want you to miss a word he says.

"You cannot win, darl. You're strong. You might be stronger than me. But I am smarter, and I am bigger, and I am faster. I am purely better than you darling, and there is nothing you will ever be able to do about it."

You like the colonel in the ring. He thinks the way you do. He's cockier, yes, but that's because he thinks he can win. And he will. He's like you, you think you can win anything that you want to. You don't think you want to win this.

You don't like most people, but you like Colonel Quaritch. You like the colonel from the hallway, the person who gave you a voice and listened to every word it said. You like the colonel from the punching bag, the guy who fed your ego, was interested in your strength, was cocky enough to stand behind your punching bag. The guy who was strong enough to take it. You like the colonel in the ring, the dickhead who got blood all over you, who thinks he could win if you didn't want him to, who says what comes to mind without hesitating about if it's going to hurt you. It doesn't, by the way. He might be able to hurt you, but his words can't.

He wasn't incorrect, per se. He is smarter than you, but only tactically speaking, your job isn’t to win the war, it’s to make sure he can. He is bigger than you, his height is much, much larger than yours. The span of his shoulders is too. As is the size of his muscles. You don't think he's faster than you, but you’ll get the chance to find out. You memorised his room number. You could challenge him to a race, presuming he has any free time. But he is not using any of his superior properties, he is trying to outdo you in sheer strength alone. He could crush you if he wanted to, squash you like a bug in under a minute without so much as a second thought. But he doesn't know how to. You must show him.

You blink, slowly, encouraging him to make a move against you, give himself an advantage. The colonel looks you over a couple times, analysing your weak spots, questioning how to defeat you. Finding stability by wrapping your hands around the ropes bordering the ring, you hoist yourself up to sit atop them. You bring your hands to your chest, and throw a few weak, less-than-half hearted punches into his.

"Wh.. what are we doing here. Are you bored with this? Are you toying with me? You can punch harder than that. A lot harder than that." The colonel snarls, his frown deepening with each word.

You shrug, your legs growing restless, swinging back and forth, landing soft kicks above his knees every so often. He takes a deep breath, getting increasingly irritated, before pulling off his boxing gloves and lifting you from the ropes to the ground.

"What do you want." He sighs defeatedly, dragging his tablet out of his pocket and handing it to you.

You start to type.

'You can defeat me. I am inferior to you, but for some reason you are trying to outdo me in the area I excel in. I am as strong as you, but you are more tactical. And you are taller, bigger. If you wanted to squash me, you could. If you commanded me to lose, I would. If you had thought for two seconds before pulling out the hotheaded soldier who spewed his hormonal blood-saliva cross contamination into my mouth, I may respect you a bit more. Colonel.'

Once he takes the tablet from your outstretched hand, his eyebrows practically shoot off his face as he reads. Shaking away the writing, he slides the tablet into his pocket before giving you his full, undivided attention, which is accompanied by piercing eye contact.

"Big move, calling me hotheaded, the very second after explaining exactly how easy I would find it to 'squash you' like a bug. Oh and sweetheart," He crosses his arms over his chest, leaning slightly closer to you, as if trying to hear something you were going to say.

"Judging by the way you get all flustered and purple when I lean over you, the way I am now, I figure you shouldn’t be so high and mighty over my 'hormonal cross contamination' being inside of you so much." As he pulls back, one of his hands reaches out to cup your cheek as he tilts his head and examines you. He removes his hand from your face and stands back, semi-weary while awaiting your response.

You extend your hands, asking for help with removing your boxing gloves. You move slowly, to not threaten him or provoke him to lash out violently. He raises his eyebrows, and his fingers go to the velcro on the gloves. You nod, pushing your hands out more "can y- pl-"

"Yes darl. I've got you."

He removes the gloves from your hands, velcroing them together. He repeats the process with his own gloves after picking them up from the floor, then he slips under the ropes and places both pairs back on the stand.

You trail a few steps behind him, like a lost puppy. You figure that now that you’re done with him in the ring, You should feel free to go. You should probably return to your quarters, and stretch and nap or something, on your own. It would be comforting to be alone after having so much attention drawn to you. To go relax in your room, with nobody able to bother you.

But, for some reason, you'd much rather stay here, with the colonel. You find some sense of.. calmness, and pleasure, in following his footsteps, like a ghost indebted to him.

He halts in his tracks, turning around to face you. You tilt your head to the side, questioning his sudden stop.

"Give me back my keys."

Oh. You fish into the pockets of your cargo pants, and retrieve the hoop that has his room card and keys dangling from it, holding it out by gripping his keycard. The colonel snatches it from your hand.

"Why are you still here? What do you need darlin?" He murmurs, hooking the keys back onto his belt loop.

You shake your head, you don't need anything. He nods in understanding.

"You're dismissed." He commands.

You give a small bob of your head in acknowledgment, and return to your quarters.

——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/——/

tags: -

#atwow #avatar #avatar smut #atwow smut #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch smut #colonel miles quaritch #avatar the way of the water #recom miles quaritch x reader #recom squad #recom miles quaritch #recombinant miles quaritch #recombinant miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch

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princess-of-thebes-1995 · 5 months

Text

Imagine this....

After the Recom Quaritch captured you and your son, Spider in the forest. He fucked his ownership into you and punished you for betraying him before he died as a human.

Quaritch left to shower after consumating his relationship with you. Spider snuck into your room while you were sobbing on the bed you now shared with Quaritch.

Spider wordlessly laid Infront of you and wrapped his arms around you. You hugged your son back and kissed his forehead.

Then you closed your eyes.

Quaritch came out with a towel around his torso and was at first confused to see the figure next to you. He saw his son sleeping next to you.

Quaritch stared at the warm scene for awhile. His heart ached. He wasn't there for Spider when he needed him.

And you became a pregnant widow at a young age.

He sighed. Maybe he was too harsh on you.

Quaritch put on some gym shorts and joined the two of you on the bed. He wrapped his arms around you pulling your back to his muscular chest. You were between your son and husband.

The Colonel wanted nothing more to salvage his relationship between you and his first son.

#imagine #avatar #avatar 2 #miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #recom miles Quaritch x reader #spider #yandere miles quaritch x reader

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nickgoesinsane · 1 year

Note

Okay but like what about Recom team like all of them have a pussy and a dick and the reader (can be part kf the team or a na'vi clan, don’t matter) fucks all of them?

They’re so stupid.

You’ve told them time and time again to be careful, to watch their feet, but it’s useless. Not one, not two, but all seven Recoms bumped into a particular plant that was known to kickstart mating cycles. The smell of them, so sweet and cloying as slick drips from between their thighs, served to start your own cycle.

You grit your teeth with a grunt, tightening your grip on Zdinarsk’s hips as you spill inside her cunt. She shudders on top of you and drenches your lap with a wave of slick, gasping for breath. That’s two, you note as you glance at Quaritch’s purring, curled up form. Zdinarsk blinks lazily, her tail flicking against your legs in satisfaction, and leans down to nose at your temple. She goes to kiss you, but a startled yelp is torn from her throat when she’s shoved off you.

“My turn.” Lyle says in response to her annoyed hiss, clambering onto your lap to slip your still hard cock into the hot walls of his leaking cunt. “Oh fuck, that’s it…”

It’s a snug fit, the males have been gripping you like a vice to the point where it’s slightly uncomfortable, so you slide a hand over the clenching muscles of Lyle’s abdomen. “Relax,” You soothe, recalling the discussion you had before this. Human males didn’t have cunts or wombs, so this was a new experience all together.

There’s a soft, wet smacking noise to your left. You turn your head as Lyle begins to roll his hips experimentally, and you see Mansk and Prager fisting each other’s hard cocks, smearing opalescent precum over their skin. Mansk grabs Prager by the nape and brings him in for an open mouthed kiss. You adjust your feet on the ground to meet Lyle’s bouncing, pondering. You’re missing two.

“Ja.” You call the man’s attention and tip your chin up wordlessly. He understands, eagerly moving to straddle your face and guide your mouth to where he needs you the most. You hold your free hand out in Lopez’s direction, and you soon feel the wet warmth of his pussy enveloping your fingers. The Recom’s loud panting and muffled whimpers fill the forest as you get to work.

And that’s seven.

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adoreeenina · 22 days

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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

#miles quaritch x reader #recom quaritch x reader #recom miles quaritch x reader #recom miles quaritch #avatar miles quaritch #lyle wainfleet x reader #avatar the way of water #miles quaritch #I loved her first

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xylianasblog · 6 months

Text

Blinded

Pairings: Recom Quaritch x Fem human reader

Summary: Alone time when miles was away was very much needed, yet you loved when he came back and gave you nice surprises.

Warnings: MDNI, anal, double penetration, masturbation, size difference.

♥ 18+ ♥ no minors! ♥ 18+ ♥ no minors! ♥ 18+ ♥ no minors! ♥ 18+ ♥

Your soft whines and cries of pleasure filled your room as you fucked yourself, the toy hitting all the right spots. Your breaths came out in heavy pants, legs sliding open showing off everything as you slunk down more. Face now buried into the sheets to muffle your cries slightly.

You weren’t aware of your door sliding open, or that Quaritch had the perfect view of your ass up in the air, spread wide giving him the perfect view of you. He felt his cock harden against the fabric of his briefs; his tail swayed around idly as his ears flattened. Your sweet scent filled his entire senses, overwhelming him with your arousal.

He let out a gruff noise as he moved around taking off his clothes, he watched as you consumed yourself with your own pleasure. Completely unaware of his presence in the room until he positioned himself behind you.

Your body shuddered at the feeling is his large hands on your ass, the entirety of his length pressed against you. He rubbed himself along your free hole, watching the way your hands faltered momentarily. He chuckled but said nothing as he looked at you.

He sat still watching you fuck into yourself weakly with your toy, the saliva collecting at the tip of his tongue. Once he was satisfied with the amount he pulled his cock away from your twitching hole, sticking his tongue out he watched the saliva pool around your puckered hole before dribbling down to your drenched cunt. You heard the sound of his gruff voice mumbling, but you weren’t aware of the words that left his mouth. Not until you felt the tip of his cock pressing into your second hole.

Your body tensed up before relaxing at the soft circles he traced onto the skin of your ass, small whimpers left your lips as you felt hun push in inch by inch. Slowly until every inch of him was settled nicely into you, your body taking the size of him so well.

Your mind went blank, having both of your holes filled at the same time was overwhelmingly satisfying yet fulfilling. He leaned forward slightly, large hand wrapping around your neck firmly holding you there as he began moving. His thrusting was slow letting your body adjust to the intrusion, the sensation of him hitting so deep inside you against the trust of your dildo had you whimpering and whining. Your soft cries filled the room along with the sound of his grunts and soft praises.

His hand would tighten around your neck as he started out slow, each new thrust at a different pace. With each thrust he’d pull an inch out before pushing back in watching how you’d swallow his dick. Soft, Gummy walls clinging to him each time he pulled out. “That’s it.. good girl... take it..”

Taglist: @pandoraslxna @neteyamsoare @hiddensnow1 @criticallybella @sunfyresrider @neteyamsyawntu @tiredmamaissy @headsincloud9 @etherialblackrose @strongheartneteyam @blue-slxt @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @justcaptainnoodles @Neteyamyawne

#lunaskinktober2023 #avatar twow #avatar smut #atwow smut #recom miles quaritch x reader #recom miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader smut #avatar quaritch #miles quaritch smut

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tojisun · 7 months

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kinktober — 04: choking/spanking

recom miles quaritch x human fem reader

!! smut - minors dni; ass and pussy spanking; choking and hair pulling; slight dumbification; size difference; dirty talk; no actual penetration

kinktober mlist

it was a slip of the tongue, something that your sleep-deprived mind conjured up with not much thought. it wasn’t even something that you usually pondered on, nor was it like a nagging feeling that would keep you up at night.

you didn’t even mean it. but it didn’t matter – you still said it.

you felt miles stiffen from where he’s pressed on your back, his hand pausing from where it had been slowly massaging the swell of your hip.

you feel yourself freeze too, body locked in trepidation.

“what was’at?” he asks, his voice rumbling from the top of your head.

“nothing!” you are quick to reply only to hiss in discomfort when his hand squeezes your hip in response, his thumb digging into the flesh of your ass.

“i don’t like liars,” miles says because of course he would.

you know he’s not asking because he didn’t hear, not when you’ve been there to test the extent of his new abilities. you know this is part of a bigger scheme, something that had your legs squeezing together as you swallowed the lump in your throat to finally whisper, “i said i miss the way you used to fuck me, back when you were a human.”

there was a sudden hush in the room, the two of you stilling, before you’re being yanked from miles’ front and forced onto your elbows and knees.

“miles-”

“ass up, baby.” he pushes a hand down to the small of your back, forcing you to arch up in that way he always praised you for. “stay like that or so help me, cupcake, you’ll be pregnant by the end of this.”

you startle at his words – promises you know that can’t come true – as your breath leaves your lungs in a sudden swoop. you couldn’t even force your mind to catch up before a sharp sting reverberates from your clothed ass.

you squeal, breaking your form, but that only makes miles punish you again. this time, two slaps on either side of your cheeks, your pyjama shorts and lingerie not doing anything to dampen the blow.

“i’m sorry!” you cry out as he manhandles you back up again.

miles laughs, the sound so cruel as it slips past his lips. “of course you are, pumpkin.” his voice curls in a teasing manner, his southern accent making his words lilt in that mean way that he loves to use.

you twist your head to catch a glimpse of miles, hoping to use your teary eyes and pouty lips to make him buckle, but your lover’s new body is made of long limbs and all defined muscles, leaving you eyeing nothing but an expanse of blue skin. you whine, wiggling your hips, but miles just hums, his warm hands wrapping around your trimmed waist, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your back before they hook onto the band of your shorts.

your breath hitches, your mind going blank.

miles presses his lips on your shoulder, gentle even as he slides down the silk pyjamas off your body. “y’smell so good, hon.”

the sudden shock of cool air hitting your body is chased away by the warmth of his front, and you melt into the sheets, your eyes going heavy at the press of his body against yours. big hands cup your ass, deft fingers massaging your muscles, and you giggle at how quick it was for your body to melt in his hold.

miles kisses you one last time before he’s pulling back up. one of his hands leaves your hips, gliding upwards to trail burning touches along your back until it reaches the base of your nape where he pauses to swipe your hair away before finally wrapping the whole of his hand around your neck. you sigh at the pressure, feeling yourself slipping under the fog.

“see? bein’ a good girl ain’t too hard, ain’t it?” miles murmurs, his hold gaining strength, thick fingers digging into your skin. you whine, feeling the heat build up from where he’s holding you, before he eases his grip again. “but of course, you rather be a fuckin’ brat.”

the barrage of slaps on your bare ass shocks you, ripping you from the heavy daze that you were falling into. a choked whimper slips past your lips and you buckle under his hold, trying, in vain, to escape miles’ heavy hand but the grip on the back of your neck grounds you – warns you – and you go still, reduced to muffling your shaky breaths into the pillow.

miles laughs throughout, his hand falling onto the quickly-bruising skin of your ass in unexpected tempo, never once following a rhythm. you are sobbing now, torn between the beautiful pressure of your lover’s steady hold and his punishing strikes, broken cries resonating amidst the slapping sounds.

“y’r tremblin’ so beautifully, love,” miles growls and you startle when his teeth nip at your shoulder blade, his fangs digging into your skin enough to cause angry welts. he licks at the irritated skin and leaves another hit on your right cheek. “do y’know how wet you are right now, hon?”

you reply, you think – you don’t really know. it must have been a broken whimper because miles just hums in response, his thumb sliding up the column of your neck until it teases the short strands of hair at the base of your head. you feel his hand pat your hip gently before he dips a finger into your heat to press along your wet folds.

you blink in surprise, causing tears to trickle down your already damp face as miles plays with your sensitive slit, messing you up with every stroke. he spreads your slick along your trembling body, rumbling chuckles vibrating from his chest as he stains even the insides of your thighs.

“goddamn, cupcake,” he snarls. “you fuckin’ reek.”

you mewl at his words, burying your head back to your pillow, trying to ignore the heat spreading on your face.

you want him to fuck you now. want him to make a mess out of your cunt, bury all of his cock until it breaches the entrance of your cervix. pleasepleaseplease-

“miles, please,” you hiccup out loud, feeling your pleasure swell in your pussy. “fuck me already, please miles. please!”

but miles just laughs, his fingers pulling away from teasing your folds. you buck in displeasure, wiggling your hips, hoping that miles will give in but you should have known better.

you should have expected this.

miles delivers another slap on your body, this one hitting your cunt instead. you scream, the sound so guttural that miles does it again and again, ensuring that with each hit his fingers brush against your hardened clit.

you go dizzy at the blend of muted pleasure and resonating pain, going cross-eyed at the consistent smacks. you feel more than hear the way your slick makes the slaps wetter, his palm gliding a lot easier and with more rigorous purpose.

it’s so good; it’s not enough – your mind races to make sense of what you are feeling only to get lost at the unending pressure.

“miles! miles!” you don’t even know why you are moaning his name.

“not yet, sweetheart. just a few more,” is all your lover says and you can’t make sense of what he means. what he’s trying to achieve.

you lose track of time, giving up on cataloguing each rush of pleasure or pain that miles gives you. he has long let go of your neck to grip on your hair, fisting messy strands as he pulls. he’s left marks along the column of your neck, and you don’t even have it in you to care about how you will hide these under your uniform tomorrow.

then, ripping past your stuttering mind, euphoria seizes you all of a sudden, growing from the pit of your belly and racing along your spine. you freeze, not able to make sense if it will peak, too drunk from miles’ undoing. all of a sudden, you feel miles’ hand gaining speed and you realize that this is what he had been building you up for.

“cummin’!” you wail, arching into miles’ hand. “miles, baby, cummin’! i’m cummin!”

miles growls from behind you, his face burrowing in the juncture of your neck. “c’mon, pumpkin. cum for me.”

and you do, your body locking as you cum, wailing his name – the only thing you are still sure of. your eyes go blind at the pleasure, your ears ringing with white noise.

distantly, you feel him press his lips on your damp skin, licking a stripe on your marked up neck. “‘s right,” he murmurs. “y’ve been such a good girl f’r me, sweetheart. such a good girl.”

he is saying something else but you lose your consciousness before you can hear them, your last thought being the quiet rumbling of elation that is spreading through you even amidst the angry bruises that miles left you with.

but that is alright because you know that miles will take care of you.

he always does.

tags: @pandoraslxna @stargirlrchive @liwooa

#lunaskinktober2023 #suns.f #miles quaritch x reader #recom miles quaritch x reader #quaritch x reader #miles quaritch smut #recom miles quaritch #quaritch smut #suns

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plzfeedmebread · 1 year

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What Do I Tell My Friends Family? Pt. 6

word count: 4003

Pairing: Recom! Miles! Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi! Reader Tags/Warnings: hurt, comfort, feels, lots of crying

Author's Note: Apologies in advance for any grammatical errors! Hope you enjoy this next installment :)))

The weeks that followed could only be described as uncomfortable. Those of the clan gave you and Quaritch a wide berth. You did not miss their obvious sneers, nor the harsh whispers under their breath. Yet you cannot find it in yourself to fault them; such a reaction was more than understandable, perhaps even warranted.

The humans were far more courteous, even those with Avatars; but they too kept it to what was minimal etiquette. You noticed though, that they were far more cordial with the other recoms. You watched them converse with each other, animatedly talking about something or rather. It made you envious, a feeling you knew all too well.

Quaritch tells you not to worry; says it doesn’t bother him. But you wondered how much weight such words truly held. You’re thankful he and the recoms at least have each other, as bittersweet as it was. On the nights where you would eat dinner with your family, he and his squad ate together in one of their dwellings; the night filled with reminiscing of lives past and wishes for the future. Their revelry is downright infectious, and you often excuse yourself early to join them. It fills your heart with unbridled warmth to see Spider with them too. More often than not he would also join when it was just you and Quaritch alone.

At one point you had gathered all your siblings together, sitting them down and giving them a less graphic (for Tuk’s benefit) retelling of you and your mate’s meeting and eventual courtship. Your brothers, bless them, treated you no different, told you that they didn’t care and were happy for you. When you cornered them afterwards to speak privately, you wept and wept, thanks spilling from your lips over and over again.

They reiterated once more that they were just happy you came back alive and well. Regardless of the less-than-ideal circumstances surrounding your introduction to one another, and his sordid history, they were simply happy you had found your one true mate. Moreover, as far as they were concerned, if Eywa herself deemed it necessary to get this involved in your lives, then she must see something in him. If she could forgive him for his sins, then who were they to hold it against him? He paid his price in blood.

Sweet little Tuk; everything that had happened was perhaps a little too big for such a young mind, but you tried to explain yourself as best as you can to such a young one. She hummed in thought, called you and your mate weird, but if he made you happy like dad makes mum happy, then he must be okay. She was also the only one of your siblings that wanted to actually speak with Quaritch face to face.

You were reluctant, afraid of how mother might react. But little Tuk is rambunctious in nature. She barged in one night when you and Quaritch were having dinner with Spider. Hands on her hips she proclaimed with unwavering authority,

“If you wanna be in my family, then first you gotta apologize!” Her eyes were fixated on Quaritch, who stared back at her with shock all over his face. When he didn’t immediately say anything she elaborated further.

“That time…When you took my big sister…You and those scary people hurt us, and that wasn’t very nice…” She frowned at him, eyes glistening.

When you looked to your mate you saw the guilt in his eyes, how his ears flattened and tail wrapped around his waist. He got to his knees, tried to make himself as small possible in an attempt to be closer to her eye level. And he apologized. He apologized for scaring her, for hurting her. But most of all, he was so sorry he took you. He doesn’t give her any excuses; simply admits he did something wrong and was sorry.

She nods at him, but says nothing else; though you see the tightness of her expression loosen. Spider walks over to her and ruffles her hair which makes her giggle.

“Here kid, I got a little somethin’ for ya,” Quaritch says and reaches into his pants pocket. He pulls out a small wooden carving of a pa'li. He holds out the tiny figurine balanced in the palm of his hand. Tuk’s eyes widen and she grabs it with a loud thank you. She holds it up to her face, turning it around to admire it.

“You made this?” She asks, looking up at him expectantly.

“Yes. Your sister here helped me too. Made sure it looked right.” And it was true; you had spent many nights by his side, carefully instructing him on pa'li anatomy. You were surprised when he approached you and spoke of his intention to carve her the small figurine. He explained he felt inspired when you had offhandedly mentioned her fondness for the animal.

Tuk looks between him and figure a few times, then gives him one final once over before nodding her head.

“Hmm. I guess you can stay. [Y/N] likes you, so…And you’re Spider’s dad, and I like big brother Spider.” She smiles up at the aforementioned boy, who ruffles her hair once again affectionately.

“Okay bye I wanna show this to Lo’ak!” And with that she’s sprinted off before any of you can say anything more.

---

It was disheartening to come to the realization that Kiri was avoiding you. She didn’t outright ignore you per say, but she was always too busy or had other pressing matters to attend to; never was she free to sit and talk to you.

You broke down crying one night, alone with Quaritch. Immediately you were pulled into his embrace. His strong arms held you tight as he whispered comforting words into your hair.

You hadn’t noticed Spider just outside. He had come with the intent to eat with you two as usual, but stopped himself when he heard your cries. He listened to the words you spoke, laden with heartache for your sister.

You didn’t hear him leave either.

---

“You’ve gotta talk to her.” Spider finds Kiri inside watching her mother’s video logs.

“I’m sorry, what?” She turns to him alarmed.

“[Y/N]. You have to talk to her.” He pleads.

Kiri shakes her head at him and turns back to the video.

“I don’t have to do anything. Besides, what’s there to even talk about…” her voice travels off at the end, as if she was unsure of her own words.

“Are you being serious right now? Kiri…” He grabs her by the shoulders and turns her around to face him. She’s at his eye level from kneeling in front of the console.

“What do you want from me Spider? You know as well as I do what he’s done in the past. And she does too; but I guess that doesn’t matter anymore…”

“That’s not fair, Kiri—”

“You wanna know what’s NOT fair, Spider?! The fact that I have wake up every day knowing that the man who shot and killed my mother, is alive and well! And not only that, he’s mated to my sister!” There’s tears in her eyes as her voice rises; the frustration of it all bubbling over.

Spider can feel the anger radiating off of her, white hot and unravelling; a crescendo of emotion bottled up for who knows how long. The dam breaks and she sobs, fists clenched tight.

“So now, he gets to play house with my family, [Y/N] gets her Eywa-given mate, and you get your dad back! And what do I get? NOTHING!”

Spider flinches when she screams.

“What happened to ‘us orphans have to stick together’…? Am I going to lose you too…?” Spider’s eyes grow wide at her admission. Her fears laid out before him; she felt as though she was losing her family to Quaritch? Was she blind? He hates that she’s feeling like this, wishing he knew how to make it all go away. But at the same time, he can’t help but feel his own bout of anger and frustration.

“Kiri…You never were an orphan; not really…You know that, right?”

He looks at her with a serious expression. Her lips press into a thin line at his words.

“You had Jake and Neytiri. You literally call them mum and dad. Me? Who did I have? Yea Norm and the others raised me; but no one was really my parent…Norm was more like a big brother. And I’m not blind or stupid Kiri; your folks never considered me part of the family. Only you guys did…”

She knows all too well what her parents think of Spider. Mother was not as subtle as she thought she was. Father at least treated him well, but there was still this disconnection from Spider being human.

As they stared at one another, it became clear to both of them that there was perhaps a lot of hurt left yet to heal.

---

Despite the passage of time, you have yet to properly speak with your mother. Words left unspoken causing a rift to form between you two. Small at first, you feel the cracks forming as it has been left to sit and fester. She treats you with the same love and care you have always known, but something has undoubtedly changed. It’s there, behind a lingering gaze, the hesitance of touch, the near imperceivable sharp intake of breath, but with no words that follow.

The tension at dinner time is thick, near palpable. Your brothers try their best to fill the awkward silence with pleasant conversation, driving it as far from the topic of your mate as possible. Kiri obviously says nothing, much to your disappointment. Mother smiles but it does not reach her eyes.

When you eventually muster up the courage to speak with Mo’at, you are surprised; you had expected her to be just as, if not more, against it all as mother. But she is pragmatic, understanding that this providence cannot be ignored. Her unique spiritual bond with Eywa allowed a deeper understanding into the intricacies of the Great Mother’s Will. Though she would not forgive him any time soon, she would at least accept his place among her family and her People; if this was Her Way, the so it must Be. She didn’t have to like it, but she did have to respect it.

You asked her how best to approach your own mother. She tells you that you must speak from the heart, but be open to the idea that Neytiri may never accept things as they are. She is not Tsahik and never will be. Though she has great love for Eywa, this hurt cuts far deeper than you may yet understand. She says that Neytiri perhaps needs to commune with her father’s spirit and seek out his guidance. Perhaps even from Eywa herself.

You nod and thank her for speaking with you. You turn to leave but she stops you with a hand on your shoulder. When you turn back around she pulls you into a warm hug. She tells you everything will be okay; Eywa has deigned it so. That she is sorry you have suffered such hardship, but she knows you are strong and capable, and will get through this one way or another.

You cry shamelessly into her embrace for a long while.

---

When next to happen to find yourself alone in the company of your father, you fix him with a question that has been plaguing your mind.

“You know…I’m surprised you’re not as, angry, as mother is about all this.” You watch his face trying to gauge his reaction. His countenance is thoughtful though a scowl does form. He schools his expression quickly.

“Trust me kid; I am.” There is an underlying bitterness in his words that leaves you with an uncomfortable clench in your stomach.

“But…Eywa accepted me and forgave me for my part in the destruction of Home Tree and everything after that. She came to our aid when shit hit the fan, helping us drive back the RDA. She’s done a lot for me and our family. And if what Quaritch says is true, that our Avatar bodies only work because she allows them to? Then I got a helluva lot more to be grateful for. I wouldn’t have Neytiri, Mo’at, your siblings, the clan, or you for that matter.”

Your lips quiver with the strain to not cry. It becomes nigh impossible with the way father is smiling down at you. He places both hands on your shoulders.

“I took a lot from Pandora…But you and your siblings? You guys are the one good thing I put in.” You heart swells and you lose your battle to not cry. When Jake sees your tears he pulls you in, rubbing your back soothingly as you weep.

“No matter how grown up you get, you’ll always be my baby girl…It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

You sniffle as you try to calm yourself. You are a little fed up with all the crying you’ve been doing lately.

“How can you be so sure?” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Call it a father’s intuition.” This time, you return his smile.

---

Tonight finds you in the arms of your husband. The two of you are deep within the forest, somewhere far from High Camp and Bridgehead. You found a secluded perch on which to lay and watch Eywa paint the sky in brilliant starlight. Your snuggled into his side, head resting on his broad chest. You listen to calm rhythmic beating of his heart. It comforts you.

His arm encloses you, pressing you tightly to him. Your hands, fingers entwined, rest atop where his heart is.

“What’s going on through that pretty little head of yours?” His voice draws you in, pulling your lazy gaze from the sky and to his face. There is a warmth in his eyes, a kind curiosity. He brings your hand up and presses a kiss to your knuckles. You loved it when he was soft and gentle. Though you were, of course, eager and willing for his rougher ministrations when the mood struck.

You smile softly and hum in response.

“Hmmm. Just thinking about how much I love you.”

You are rewarded with the goofiest smile you’ve ever seen adorn his handsome face. Sometimes it feels as though he could never get used to your declarations of love and affection. You wonder if he was starved of such a thing. The thought baffles you, as your people loved freely and were not ashamed to express such feelings to friends and family.

You don’t dwell on it though; resolving to smother him with everything he may or may not have been denied all his life.

You move yourself off his chest but don’t untangle your hand from his. Instead, you lay on your back and pull him as you do. Miles follows, moving himself above you; caging you in between his arms, his face mere inches from yours.

You stare at him; studying. You take note of every luminous freckle, the strength of his cheek bones, the grooves of his nose, the breadth of his jaw. Your hand moves to his face and cups his cheek. His skin is warm to the touch. Your thumb traces the lines of his lips. He closes his eyes and leans into your hand.

When he looks at you once more with a half-lidden gaze, lovesick and smiling, it stirs something deep within you. The flicker of a flame comes to life, its warmth all encompassing. That look of reverence on his face; you never want to stop. Not in this lifetime or the next.

You resolve to protect that smile by any means necessary.

---

The two of you weren’t in your tent this morning, and Neytiri huffs in frustration. After much talks with Jake, communing with Eywa, she had finally decided to try talking with you once more. The next morning of course. But much to her dismay, no one was at the tent when she called. She saw no one inside when she quickly looked inside, but did not linger as it smelt far too much like The Demon.

She cusses under her breath. She knows she’s going to have to get out of the habit of calling him that. Start addressing him by his name.

Unsure of where the two of you might be, she makes her way back to her own dwelling. Jake is there, cleaning one of his guns. He looks up when he hears her familiar footfalls.

“That was quick,” he says, a confused look on his face.

“They weren’t there.”

“Oh. Maybe one of the kids saw em’.”

She nods and sets out to find her other children.

---

Alas, it would prove futile; none of the others had seen either of you since the night before, when you had told Spider you and Quaritch were going out to watch the stars.

Speaking of Spider, where was he? If anyone was going to know where you two were, it’d be him.

Neytiri makes her way over to the scientist buildings; if he wasn’t with her children, he more than likely would be here.

She enters the one housing Grace’s Avatar, and finds Norm up and about, not yet in his Avatar. He turns and is surprised to see her of all people, rather than her kids, enter. Still, he is happy to see her all the same.

“Neytiri? Oel ngati kameie! What brings you here?”

“Oel ngati kameie, Norm. Have you seen Spider? Or [Y/N]?” She smiles and greets him with equal enthusiasm. His expression becomes perturbed at the question though.

“No sorry, haven’t seen Spider since…Huh. Actually the day before yesterday? Thought he was staying with [Y/N] and Quaritch.”

Neytiri’s stomach drops at the notion. Has no one really seen either of you three for the passed two days? And no one said anything? What kind of mother was she then, to not notice?? Her mind starts racing, but she takes a deep breath; calming herself before she spiraled out of control. There was no need to overthink; you may have simply been too busy.

“Have you tried asking the other recoms? I’m sure one of them must’ve seen em’ at some point.” She nods at him; it was a good place to continue.

“I have not. Thank you Norm. I shall go see them.”

Briskly she leaves, not another word said; far too eager to find you as soon as possible.

---

She eventually finds the three of them conversing with some of the other Avatars. She cares not for their topic of conversation, walking up and interrupting them without a second thought.

“You three.” She addresses them coldly; the others sense the rising tension and quickly make their escape.

“Mrs. Sully! What can we do for you?” The bald one, Lyle if she remembers correctly, asks her.

“My daughter. Have you seen her? What of your, leader, or his son?”

Instead of answering, the three of them simply share a look amongst themselves, before they all look back to her. The uncomfortable feeling is back tenfold. There is something in their gaze, an almost apologetic look in their eyes. She hates it, nor does she understand why they look upon her so.

“What? What is wrong?” She demands, the agitation ever growing.

Mansk clears his throat and steps forward.

“Come with us Mrs. Sully…And bring your husband too.”

Her stomach clenches something awful; her mother’s intuition stings.

---

The 5 of them congregate in Mansk’s private dwelling. He gestures for everyone to sit down, get comfortable. Jake too can’t help but notice the sullen looks adorning the others’ faces. Nor his he miss the nervous twitch of his wife’s tail. He grabs her hand and squeezes it reassuring. She looks to him, taking a deep breath as she nods.

Mansk re-emerges from wherever he went, brandishing a tablet in hand. He sits himself in front of everyone, holding the tablet for them to see.

“Here…A message was given to us, to give to you when you came.” He moves his hand and hits play.

Instantly you are on the screen. You are nervously rubbing the back of your neck. Quaritch is sitting next to you; he is leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees and fingers loosely threaded in front of him.

“Hello mother, father, precious siblings…” Neytiri squeezes Jake’s hand harder. She does not like how your voice sounds as you speak.

“If you’re seeing this, then you’re all probably wondering where we—I am…” You pause, hand on your heart and you take a deep breath to calm yourself. Neytiri notices then, Spider mulling around in the background. Back and forth he moves, as if in a hurry.

“I don’t know how else to word this, so I’m just going to come out and say it. I’ve left. WE, have left. Me, Spider, and Miles.” You glance over to Quaritch and smile, grabbing his hand in yours, threading fingers together. Your face returns to that awful tired expression when you look back to the camera.

“I’m sorry I did this without saying goodbye…But this was for the best. If there was even a chance, no matter how small, that any of you would try to stop us…Well, I didn’t want to take that chance. I’m so sorry, I really mean that. For everything…Father? Thank you for taking care of me. I love you, to Earth and back. Please remember to take care of yourself too, not just the family or the clan…

Kids? I know you’re probably gonna hate me for a while, leaving like this and all—but like I said. My mind is made up and I don’t want any of you trying to stop us. I love each and every one of you so much. No one could ask for better siblings. Please be good to each other. And boys? Start actually listening to dad once in a while, yea?”

You pause to wipe a few stray tears. Neytiri is sobbing quietly as she clenches Jake’s hand painfully. She doesn’t see him swallow hard the lump in his throat.

“Mama?” Neytiri sits up straight when you address her directly.

“I don’t think I could every forgive myself for hurting you. I am so sorry, more than words could ever express…You took good care of me, took good care of this family. I am proud to call you my mother, and no matter how far the wind takes me, I will always love you. I hope you can forgive me one day…” You gently place a hand on your stomach.

“I do not want to cause dissent amongst my family, or the clan, any longer…And one day when I start my own family, with the man I love… I don’t want them to feel like they don’t belong. So here we go, somewhere far beyond the horizon, to find a place we can truly call our own…” Your smile is bright and unwavering, even when the tears don’t stop.

“Please keep taking such good care of each other. Promise me you will. Sullys stick together, our family is our fortress, right? Well, these two? They are my family now, they are my fortress, and I will do what I must to keep them safe, happy, accepted...Whether or not the clan or some of you can accept it, know that I love each and every one of you, forever and ever…So until I see you again, May Eywa keep you all safe…Goodbye...”

You wave at the camera before leaning forward to touch something unseen, and the video ends.

Neytiri breaks down then and there. She falls into Jake’s arms, clutching at him desperately. Her wails crack her voice as she calls for you. Jake sheds silent tears as he holds her tight. He fights every instinct in him demanding he grab his ikran and blindly fly after you.

The other recoms sit and silence, heads lowered, as they take in the sight before them.

A mother’s heartache was truly one of the saddest things to bare witness to.

---

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505 notes · View notes

nesaluvstherecoms · 4 months

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𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐒𝐢𝐱.

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴄᴏʟᴏɴᴇʟ ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ x ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴍᴀᴊᴏʀ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀʟ ꜰᴇᴍ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Identity crisis, insomnia, PTSD, alien (Na’vi) anatomy, male and female masturbation, cum eating, pheromone induced arousal, sexual fantasies

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ʟɪɴᴋ

。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。。

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐙𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲

“Remember kid, a Marine can’t be defeated. Oh, you can kill us. But we’ll just regroup in hell. Semper fi.” And with that, the grey haired Colonel leans forward and ends the recording.

Sharp, amber eyes stare intensively at the now transparent screen, carefully eyeing up the piece of technology between the Recombinant’s large hands. The Recom inhales deeply, lips pursed as the expression on his face remains vengeful. His jaw is tense, teeth clenched, his brain processing the new information that it just obtained. So this is why he’s here, hm? Back from the dead. His eyes then avert to his surroundings. He watches as more of his squadron’s members are pulled out of the amnio tanks, in new, refined bodies. Their flesh covered in the amniotic fluid, giving a thick, shiny sheen to the firm, durable muscles of their new anatomy.

Quaritch snorts. If he had seen this sight fourteen years ago, he would’ve been absolutely disgusted at the alien bodies being pulled out of the tanks. His blue eyes would’ve pierced through the freaky, revolting sight. He would’ve scoffed at the science pukes, calling them freaks, giving them nasty stares before storming off somewhere. The Recom’s train of thought stops there. No he wouldn’t. He wasn’t even alive fourteen years ago. Because the man who would have reacted that way is probably still rotting somewhere. And he’s not that man.

Or is he?

The Recom is pulled out of his thoughts by his right hand man, who’s floating close to him, holding onto the metal bar that supports the screen between his Colonel’s hands. They have a brief moment of eye contact, before the other Recombinant speaks.

“What’re we thinking Colonel?”

Quaritch moves his lower jaw to the side, tongue moving up to press against the upper molars of the same side. He takes a deep breath, eyes lowering down briefly, in thought. His eyes then turn back up, observing his Corporal’s face. It will take him some time to get used to Lyle’s new face. The same face he woke up to some hours ago. His eyes skim over the nasal plug inserted into Wainfleet’s right nostril, to stop the nosebleed that Quaritch caused when he punched him square in the face. Quaritch brings his lower jaw back into place. His tongue runs over the new fangs that he can’t seem to get used to just yet, coating them in a new layer of saliva, causing his lips to purse in the process. He then looks at his Corporal again. Wainfleet stares back, patiently waiting for his Colonel to process the new information, his tail flicking slowly behind him as they both float in the zero gravity space. Quaritch swallows the saliva that has pooled in his mouth. He looks at Wainfleet with an intense and serious expression before his lips curl into a smirk, fangs coming out in full display, as he stares deeply into his right hand man’s amber eyes.

“Well Lyle…. Looks like we did regroup in hell after all….”

Y/N is deep in her head. Her thoughts are all over the place, not able to form a logical and uniform chain like they usually do. But she tries to dull them for a bit.

This is not the place to be having an existential crisis.

She focuses her vision on what’s happening on the other side of the glass panel she’s currently standing behind, separating her from the zero gravity space she was in earlier. Her eyelids close over her eyes for a moment, just enough to ground her thoughts briefly. So that’s why she’s here huh? To colonize. What a joke.

“You okay, Colonel?”

Y/N opens her eyes again. Her line of vision falls upon the man standing next to her, who seems to have focused his sight on his perplexed Colonel, staring at her expectantly. Her eyes narrow at the man, tongue moving uncomfortably in her mouth at the sight of him. He doesn’t look the same at all. His beard is gone, his irises are golden, his nose is that of a feline, his skin is blue and striped and he has this new alien body that just looking at it makes her sick to her stom-

“Colonel?”

Y/N clenches her jaw, turning her head away from the man, not wanting to look at him.

“I’m fine John.”

The man swallows. Why is she acting like this? She’s never been so cold towards him for no reason. His eyes remain on her for a few more minutes, but she refuses to even glance at him again, like she can’t even bear the thought of looking at him. He decides to turn his head back towards the glass panel, telling himself that she’s just in her head and she’ll come to her normal self eventually. She always does. But something inside him still worries, his tail being a testament of this as the end of it flicks in intervals behind him. His eyes glance down briefly to his blue hands, as he stretches his new fingers, the skin flexing above the flesh. He swallows. He doesn’t like it. Not one bit. His eyes return to what’s happening behind the glass panel, trying to collect himself.

This is not the place to be having an existential crisis.

The Colonel and her Captain watch as the last duo of the 10 man squadron gets pulled out of their amnio tanks. As the amniotic fluid disperses in the space, the newborn Na’vi bodies get pulled out, sliding from the tank into the air of the new world they’re about to open their eyes to. The scientists maneuver the large, Recombinant bodies in the zero gravity space, preparing to get them ready for the wake up process. Y/N’s eyes follow them, running over the alien yet somehow familiar features of her First Sergeant and Operations Officer, both of their eyes closed, faces resting peacefully. Oh how unaware they are of what’s about to happen, what they’re about to wake up to, to wake up in. They don’t know they’ll open their eyes, far away from Earth, in new alien bodies, sluggish and confused, frightened even. They just remain resting, still deep in hibernation sleep, as they are moved away from Y/N’s and John’s sight.

John turns his head towards his Colonel again. But no words come out of his mouth. He’s waiting. Waiting for her to say something. Y/N feels his eyes on her. She takes a deep breath, filling her lungs with the much needed air as she closes her eyes again, still keeping her jaw clenched. After a few seconds she opens them again, long eyelashes as a result of her mixed DNA parting way for her dark pupils to focus again. She swallows. John inhales as she finally looks at him again, but this time there is no displeasure on her beautiful features, just the usual calm and determined demeanor that he’s used to.

“Captain, I expect you to report to me on how the wake up process has gone for the rest of the team after they all have been awaken.”

Is all she says. John nods.

“Yes Colonel.” He replies, deep voice sounding the same as she remembers. Y/N nods once, giving him one last look, before backing up a few steps and turning around. Her combat boots thud on the tiles as she starts walking away, tail moving slightly behind her. John watches his Colonel as she walks away. After a few seconds he’s about to start leaving himself, but his ears catch the sound of her footsteps stopping. He turns around, watching in curiosity. Y/N doesn’t turn to face him, her tail has stopped moving, now standing still with the end of it slightly raised up. Her ears fold back as she turns her head to look at him over her shoulder, her hair and kuru moving along with it.

“Take care of yourself John.”

And with that she slowly turns the corner and disappears from his eyesight. John swallows, still staring at the end of the hallway from which she just left. Slowly, he exhales the breath that he hadn’t noticed he was holding.

“I will, Colonel.”

It has been five days since Y/N woke up in her new body. Her right hand man, Captain John Keller, has been telling her that some of her squadron members are awake, but not all of them. Apparently the scientists are awakening two Recombinants at a time every five days. Even then she is not able to see them, as they have to come to terms with what has been done to them first. Keller has informed her that she’ll be able to meet the entire team again once they all have somehow processed their new profound existence. Y/N huffs ironically. Well that will take some time won’t it? As she lays on her bed, in her new temporary quarters, her eyes remain on the ceiling. Her ears twitch as she periodically taps her right middle finger on the sheets stamped with the RDA logo below her. Her other hand lays flat on her stomach, feeling the muscle below her fingertips even though she’s internally revolting at the firmness of it. She keeps her eyes on the ceiling.

“Remember sweetheart…. You’re nothing but a pawn and you’ll remain a pawn until you play. Take what they give you, give away what you have to, and the difference is yours. Because the difference is what makes you the middle player between the cattle and power. Because that…. is the key to winning the game.”

Her tail starts thudding against the mattress in synchronization with the finger tapping on the sheets.

She knows what her predecessor meant. But… do these rules apply to another planet?

Her tail thuds more firmly against the mattress.

Tap…

It’s been five days… five days and she still hasn’t looked in the mirror. Even with that being the case, she still has caught glimpses of herself on the reflection of different glass panels on the ISV Vindicator, and she can’t say she liked it. Her head turns slowly towards the direction of the shower.

Maybe she should.

Slowly she sits up, the sheets ruffling under her. She moves her legs to the side and lowers her bare feet on the cold tiles of the room. Behind her, her tail rests flat on the mattress. After a few seconds she stands up, walking towards the direction of the bathroom. She steps foot in, and looks around for a bit. The mirrors are still covered. There’s two of them, one small and square one above the sink and one full-length body mirror in front of the shower. Her ears fold back as her eyes fall on the covered, full-length mirror. She stands there, in the middle of the bathroom, for a considerable amount of time before she decides to do it. Hesitantly, her feet walk towards the big mirror, her tail raised slightly up behind her. Getting closer, her hand reaches out to grasp the sheet thrown over it. The RDA staff had done this to every room issued to the Recombinants, because apparently there were others like her who weren’t ready to look at themselves yet. Other Recombinants…. She wonders what other squadron the RDA decided to clone…

Y/N pushes that thought aside. She has a bigger issue to face. She’s now standing in front of the mirror with her hand grasping the sheet covering it. Her eyelids close for a moment, allowing her to ground the feelings that are bubbling inside, as her ears remain folded back and pressed against her head. Why is she so afraid?

“Come on Y/N. You’re a Colonel. The military didn’t raise no pussy.” She tells herself. Her mind goes back to when she first opened a book to study about Pandora, the day after General Ardmore had requested her presence in the Recom Program. She remembers her fascination as she carefully read every page, letter by letter. She was sitting in her office at the time, the dim light of her desk lamp falling over the book she had chosen to look for information into; “The Na’vi”. She remembers as she had turned that one specific page and her e/c eyes had fallen upon the two diagrams of one male and one female Na’vi. How she stared at the picture in fascination, carefully eyeing the dark blue stripes, the tails, the noses, the ears. Is that what she looked like now? After a few seconds she opens her eyes again, and this time there’s not as much hesitation in them.

Y/N pulls the sheet off of the mirror.

As the sheet falls on the floor, a young, beautiful Na’vi woman stares back at her, breathing rapidly. Her cropped ears are folded back, her tail is raised cautiously behind her and she stares back at Y/N in fear. Y/N swallows firmly, getting some relief in her dry throat. The young Na’vi does the same. Hesitantly, Y/N places her right hand on the mirror, moving closer to it so she can examine her own face. Her golden eyes carefully trace the dark blue stripes on her face, running over each and every one, before they move to her pink, feline nose. Carefully she removes her hand from the mirror and pokes at the tip of her nose with her fingertip. It twitches at the invasive touch, and for the first time in her new life, Y/N chuckles. That immediately diverts her attention to her mouth. She parts her lips and opens her mouth, exposing the sharp canines coated in a layer of saliva that she seems to constantly have to swallow to keep her mouth from overflowing at the moment. Her tongue carefully runs over the top row of her teeth, doing a full examination before it stops at the sharp end of her right canine. She carefully pushes the tip of her tongue against it, not enough to pierce through the muscle but enough to be able to feel the sharpness of her new tooth. Her tongue then moves to her right lateral incisor. It’s also pointy and sharp, threatening to pierce the tip of the muscle as she presses it against the incisor, but it’s just a bit shorter then the canine. She clamps her teeth shut, watching the full set in the mirror. The canines and lateral incisors stand out on both rows, long, pointy and sharp, glistening under the bathroom light. She closes her mouth again, now not staring at a specific feature of hers, but just looking at her face as a whole. Her face is still familiar… just… different… and blue. But it’s still… her.

Or is it?

Slowly, Y/N’s hands move down to the end of her tactical shirt. Her fingers grasp the hem and slowly start pulling up, and over her head. She tosses the shirt somewhere in the bathroom before she turns her head back to the mirror, now staring at her exposed upper body. Her hands move up towards her collar bone, touching the skin lightly. She watches herself in the mirror as her hands slowly move down to her plump breasts and gently cup them, the fat of her tits slightly bulging out of the space between her fingers. She feels the comforting softness of them for a while, before her fingers gently start to trace her nipples. A shaky sigh leaves her mouth as they harden under her touch, getting perky between her fingertips. Her eyes watch her movements in the mirror, taking in the pretty pink color of her nipples. Her breasts haven’t changed much. That gives her some comfort, seeing that at least no drastic changes have been made to her general anatomy. With that she moves her hands down, gently pressing her fingertips against her firm stomach. She watches her thin waistline, running her fingers over her sides briefly, before reaching the belt line of her tactical pants.

Y/N swallows again. But this time she doesn’t hesitate as much. Her elegant fingers make short work of the button and the zipper, getting them both undone. Her thumbs hook under the belt line at her hips where the undone pants still hang on, and she pulls them down, kicking them away. Now standing completely naked in front of the full-length mirror, she takes in the sight. There’s no body hair, due to the Na’vi genes, so she runs her fingertips over the smooth skin gently. Her right hand moves back, grasping the thick base of her tail. Keeping her fingers wrapped around it, she moves her hand down her tail, letting it slide in her palm until the fluffy tip is curled between the knuckle of her pointer finger and her thumb. She lets it go and turns around. Her head looks over her shoulder in the mirror and she experimentally moves her tail left to right. Cropped ears raise up in fascination as she continues to move her tail and watch it in the mirror. But as she does so, her eyes fall on the long braid draped over the muscles of her back. Slowly, her hand lets go of her tail.

Y/N turns back around to face the mirror. Carefully and gently she grabs the base of the long braid and pulls it in front of her. Her mind goes back to the memory of her reading that book. She remembers reading something about this braid.

“A neural queue (Na’vi name: kuru) is an appendage that is part of many species' anatomy on Pandora, including the Na’vi. Queues are encased in a "neural whip", a protective layer of skin that houses a set of thin, pinkish tendrils that appear somewhat like hair but are actually extensions of the creature's nervous system. Although the Na'vi possess a neural whip like most other creatures, it is most often hidden under a layer of hair that is painstakingly braided around the queue to protect it.”

An extension to her nervous system. Y/N’s brows raise in uncertainty. Her fingers move down to the end of the long braid and raise it up in front of her face. She watches as the hair falls down and a set of freakish, pink tendrils appear, slithering in place. Y/N’s face twists with displeasure.

“What the actual fuck.” She mumbles. That’s creepy. She lets go of her queue, not pleased at the alien appendage connected to the base of her skull. She’ll experiment with it later, not wanting to mess with it too much, seeing that apparently it is an extension of her own nervous system. As she thinks this, her eyes fall back on the reflection in the mirror. She swallows. Only one more thing to examine… Slowly she starts bending her knees to sit on the sheet that was covering the mirror earlier, planting her rear end on the floor. Bringing her knees to her chest, she scoots back with her heels to make some space between her and the mirror. After she gets comfortable enough, her amber eyes fall on the reflection again. She sighs… fuck it.

Slowly, Y/N parts her knees, spreading her legs wide. Immediately her eyes fall on her pink pussy, searching for any weird alien features. A wave of relief washes over her as she realizes that that is not the case. Her head falls back, hair caressing the skin of her back and eyes closing for a moment.

“Oh thank fucking God.” She mumbles, grateful that she wouldn’t have to deal with some type of alien genitalia. Her tail flicks side to side, ruffling against the sheet below her. Y/N brings her head forward again, staring back at the pink flesh between her legs. The outer lips match with the blue color of the rest of the skin, but the inside seems to match the color of her nipples and neural tendrils. The shape hasn’t changed, it’s still the same as she remembers.

Y/N swallows. She wonders if…

Slowly, she brings one hand forward, carefully sliding it between her spread legs. Her fingertips experimentally spread her lower lips, pulling the hood of her clit up. The tiny pink nub starts hardening under the touch, sending a pleasurable wave coursing up her spine. She closes her legs shut. No. She’s not doing this.

Standing up from the bathroom floor, she decides to ignore what just happened, the end of her tail curling around her calf in embarrassment. She grabs the sheet and folds it carefully, putting it on a nearby shelf, before she uncovers the mirror above the sink and does the same thing with the smaller sheet. Grabbing her discarded clothes, she puts them in the laundry basket, before taking out a bathrobe and a towel from the bathroom cabinet. She needs a shower. After hanging the towels on a hook nearby, her fingers move to the end of her neural queue to undo the braid. Making short work of the strands of hair, little by little the entire queue comes out, resting over her right shoulder. Y/N watches the long neural whip now uncovered, as the tendrils move. A chill runs down her spine. She doesn’t like this thing at all. It looks so freaky.

She slides open the shower screen and steps inside. Her hand reaches for the handle, twisting it on the warm temperature side. Warm water pours from the shower head, falling in front of her, wetting her feet. She steps under the stream, letting it drench her entirely. As the water falls freely on her naked form, she reaches for the small bottle of shampoo. She pours some on her open palm before stepping out of the stream and bringing the open palm on top of her head. Her fingers work gently on her scalp, massaging in the shampoo. The sweet smell fills her nostrils and it twitches at the sudden overwhelming scent. She sneezes. The hell? She has never been so sensitive to smells. Grabbing the shampoo bottle she reads over the ingredients, trying to see if there’s something adding extra scent. But there isn’t any added perfumes. Just the standard RDA approved shampoo. She huffs, sneezing one more time. Maybe it’s her. Her nose must be more sensitive. Y/N huffs out of her nose to get rid of the sneezing feeling and continues to wash her hair carefully. Pouring some more shampoo on her palm, she brings her hands down and starts washing her body. After lathering her whole body up, her fingers gently cup her breasts and rub over them, massaging the soap into the skin. Y/N swallows as her nipples harden again, poking against her open palms. Stopping her movements, she looks towards the direction of the mirror. Her eyes trace over her naked, wet and lathered up form in the reflection, strands of hair sticking on her blue skin. She bites her lip in contemplation. Slowly, her right hand moves from her right breast and carefully slides over her pubic bone. Elegant fingers slide over the smooth skin, before getting between her legs. Warmth spreads over her cheeks at her own actions. Her middle finger gently slides between her folds. A shaky breath leaves her mouth as she feels her clit harden again, bringing back that pleasurable wave down her spine she felt earlier. Flicking her wrist slowly, she brings the bottom of the second knuckle on the tiny pink nub, and gives an experimental rub. Her hips buckle forward at the feeling, and she presses against her clit harder.

Y/N leans against the shower wall, pressing her shoulders against the cold tile. Widening her stance, she rubs tight circles on her clit. As arousal starts seeping from her hole, she lets out a shaky moan, her left hand that’s still on her left breast squeezes the soft flesh. Her tail curls around her left leg, tightening around the limb. Y/N moans again, as the waves of pleasure start running through her neurons. It’s been so long. So so long. She needs this. As she rubs harder, her hips buckle forward again, causing her shoulders to press harder against the shower wall to grant her stability. Her cunt is now drenched, covered in sticky arousal and Y/N pulls on her nipple with her other hand. Letting out another moan, she stops her movements. Her middle finger slowly slides further down her pussy until the fingertip reaches the source of the thick arousal. She gently prods at it, pressing against the silky flesh. Her head falls back, the back of it leaning against the shower wall and her eyes return to the reflection in the mirror. She has to be careful. This body is virgin after all. Slowly, she inserts the tip of her finger up to the first knuckle into her pussy. A burning sensation courses within the opening, as her walls start parting to make room for the digit. Y/N continues pushing it until it’s fully in, resting within the velvety walls of her cunt.

“Fuck.” She whispers shakily, squeezing around her own digit. Allowing her virgin walls to adjust to it, she rests there, shoulders leaning against the wall as the hot water from the shower continues to pour. The glass screens have started fogging, the steam getting thicker and thicker as seconds pass, blurring the reflection of the mirror in front of her eyesight. Y/N remembers what a pain it was for her to get used to the feeling of her hole stretching when she lost her virginity. How long it took to prep her and surpass the burning feeling in her cunt. Now she will have to go through it again. But as her walls adjust to the digit, her eyelids close over her golden eyes and she lets out another shaky sigh. Gently she starts pulling her finger out, before thrusting it in the wet and silky cavern of her pussy again. She brings her other hand down, rubbing on her clit to ease the process. Another shaky moan leaves her mouth as she continues pleasuring herself, rubbing tight circles on the tiny hardened nub and thrusting her finger in faster. Her tail tightens around her leg, while her cropped ears fold back and press against her head. Y/N angles her finger, searching for that one specific spot. The moment her legs tremble she knows she’s found it, and she jabs her fingertip against her sweet spot. Her eyebrows furrow, mouth hanging open, as she feels the first wave of that sweet tightness in the pit of her stomach. Stopping her movements, Y/N turns around. Pressing her right cheek against the shower wall, her rear end sticks out, tail now raising up and the end draping over her right shoulder. Her queue dangles on her left side, tendrils still moving. She parts her feet wider, bringing her hands between her legs again. Her middle finger slides back in effortlessly and her other hand comes to rub on her clit again. But Y/N doesn’t move her finger just yet. Her right ring finger now prods at her opening, squeezing against the base of her middle finger. Slowly, she presses it in, sliding it in her walls along with the digit that’s already there. The sheer amount of arousal allows it to slide effortlessly but a burning sting courses through her inner walls as her pussy tries to adjust at the new intrusion. She hisses slightly, hole stretching to accommodate the two digits.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” She mumbles, squeezing around the two fingers. Her other hand rubs on her clit, trying to ease the adjustment. Her pointer finger and pinky are now pressed flat against either ass cheek as more arousal seeps out of her pussy, dripping down the back of her hand. Slowly, the stinging pain goes away. With that, Y/N pulls out her fingers halfway before thrusting them inside her cunt again. Squelching sounds and moans fill the bathroom along with the sound of the pouring water as she finds that same spot again and jabs against it mercilessly. The coil in the pit of her stomach continues to tighten, while waves of sweet pleasure encase her body. Her mouth hangs open, the tile fogs with her shaky breaths and moans as she keeps her cheek pressed against it. Her cheeks are now fully hot, brows furrowed and eyes closed in pleasure. Her mind starts to drift, searching for filthy memories to help her get closer to that sweet sweet orgasm. Pornographic moans echo against the walls as she finds just the right memory, and slams into her own cunt harder, while her other hand rubs her clit furiously. A numb feeling starts overtaking her toes, her stomach tightens, her urethra throbs pleasurably and that’s when she knows she’s about to cum.

Quickly she turns back around, slamming her shoulders against the shower wall and sticking her hips forward. With her eyes rolling back in her skull and a final scream, the coil snaps and intense pleasure takes over her entire body. Her nervous system pulses, blood rushing through her veins as she pleasures herself even harder to ride her orgasm. Clear liquid gushes onto the shower screen in front of her, splattering aggressively against the glass as she rides her fingers, tight velvety walls convulsing around the digits. What Y/N doesn’t notice, is the tendrils of her queue pulsing with her release, pleasure coursing through them as well.

“Oh, oh fuck!” She moans one last time as her hips stop buckling. Clamping her legs shut around her right hand, she presses the palm of her other hand flat on the shower wall behind her. Y/N lets her entire back lay against the tiles, breathing heavily as her orgasm fades away.

The only sound in the bathroom is the water still pouring from the shower head, as Y/N opens her eyes again. This time she cannot see her reflection as the glass screen is fully foggy, except for the large area of splatter patterns and squirt droplets sliding down its surface. Swallowing the saliva that has pooled in her mouth, she gently pulls her fingers out of her cunt. She brings her hand in front of her face, watching as her middle and ring finger part from each other and the thick arousal stretches between them. Her mouth parts, tongue sticking out, as she slides those fingers onto her taste buds. She wraps her lips around them, cheeks hollowing as she sucks the release from the two digits. A satisfied hum comes from the bottom of her throat as the flavor of her own cum courses through her taste buds. She pulls those fingers out, moving them back down between her folds to scoop more of her cum out from her cunt. When she has gathered a satisfying amount, she brings them back to her mouth, pouring the gathered glob of cum on top of her tongue and sucking the digits clean.

The lather has dissolved by now, leaving her body weirdly sticky. After a few more seconds of gathering herself, Y/N steps under the stream of the water again. A sigh escapes her throat, as the warmth eases her muscles, tail flicking in approval behind her. She closes her eyes, letting herself enjoy the feeling. After a while, she turns the water off. She slides the glass screen open and grabs her bathrobe and towel. She wraps her hair with the towel, carefully leaving the neural queue out, and wears the bathrobe. Her feet carry her towards the door, while her hand reaches for the light-switch and presses it, turning off the bright light of the bathroom. Y/N walks towards the bed, and doesn’t hesitate to lay down, exhaustion slowly creeping up to her. Why she’s exhausted? She doesn’t know. She could argue that her first orgasm in this new body had something to do with it but she doesn’t think much of it. A small yawn escapes her lips, sharp canines and incisors coming out in the process. Her tail ruffles against the sheets. She turns her head towards her analog watch that she had left on top of the nightstand.

03:44

She should get some sleep. Removing the bathrobe, she tosses it somewhere in the room. Deciding to keep the towel wrapped around her hair, she slides her naked form under the covers. She reaches for a bottle of water on top of the nightstand and takes a few gulps before closing the lid and putting the bottle back on the nightstand. Another yawn escapes her mouth. After getting comfortable under the covers, Y/N lays on her back, staring at the ceiling. In some weeks, she and her squadron will board on Pandora. Her mind goes back to the books she read on it. Except for “The Na’vi”, one of the books that stood out the most to her had been “Pandoran Botany” by Dr. Grace Agustine. Well, who wouldn’t be fascinated by the botany of another planet. She remembers the expression on her face as she had been flipping through the pages. Well in a few weeks she gets to see it for herself… if it doesn’t kill her that is. As a third yawn leaves her lips, Y/N decides to call it a day. She shifts into her usual sleeping position and closes her eyes. Thoughts still roam in her head but she tries to dull them, wanting to quiet her mind so she can rest. But one specific thought doesn’t seem to fade away. She wonders who the other squadron of Recombinants are…

Miles lays in bed, staring at the ceiling. It has been a rough five days. His squadron members are not all awake, some of them are having trouble with the new bodies, he’s keeping an existential crisis at bay, but most importantly, it’s been five days of flashbacks. The scientists have told him that it will take some time for all his memories to flood in, that’s why he’s getting them in snippets throughout the day. He huffs. Fucking science pukes. Always talking and never taking action. He can’t sleep at night and they haven’t done shit about it. Only the usual lectures of “trust the process sir”. Trust the process his ass, he can’t even get some damn shuteye. An annoyed growl leaves his throat. He wants to sleep. He really does. But every time his mind falls asleep, he’s haunted my memories. Some of them are the memories of war. He sees the faces of his former comrades, screaming in agony, calling out to him. They beg for him to save them, reaching out to him, before they are brutally slaughtered right in front of his eyes, their blood splattering on his uniform.

Miles swallows. As a seasoned soldier, he’s used to the brutal nature of war. He has seen violence at its most horrifying form and he thought he got over those memories a long time ago, however that does not seem to be the case. They’re coming back, haunting his dreams. The worst part is, they’re not the ones that are keeping him awake at night. No, he can sleep throughout those. What he can’t sleep through is the memory of his first day on Pandora… As soon as his mind falls into slumber, the first thing he sees is a pair of yellow eyes in the darkness, the black slitted pupils staring into his soul. Miles steps back, cocking his long gun, his own eyes wide. The creature steps from the darkness, and suddenly Miles finds himself in the middle of the fluorescent jungle, in front of this one meter beast that has bared its long and horrifying black teeth at him. It howls aggressively, charging at him with all of its six limbs. Miles has no time to react…

Pain. Pain courses through his body, pulsing through his veins. He screams in agony, tearing his vocal chords. His hand rushes to the blinding pain on the side of his head. He feels it into his skull, piercing on the right side of his brain. His eyesight goes dark, isolating him from the rest of the world. Miles is now relying on his other senses as he desperately tries to survive the agony he’s going through. The right side of his uniform feels wet. It sticks to his body, awfully warm and drenched against his skin. The hand on the side of his head is drenched too, as another hot flash of pain stabs in the right side of his skull yet again. Miles screams, coughing out liquid from his torn vocal chords. His mouth fills with a salty and metallic flavor. His uniform is getting more and more drenched, and he feels a pool of hot liquid on the ground below him. The pain doesn’t stop. Neither do Miles’ screams. His ears are ringing, he can barely hear his own voice. His vision is still black, he cannot see. He hears faint sounds of explosions and screams somewhere in the distance. He feels dizzy. His body drops on his side on the ground, drenching the rest of his uniform into the pool of liquid that was below him. As its scent fills his nostrils, Miles realizes. It’s his own blood. And everything stops. Miles falls unconscious.

The Recombinant shudders. It’s been haunting him for five nights. Five nights of him jumping awake, covered in cold sweat as he struggles to breathe. His fingers instinctively reach for the right side of his head. But there’s nothing there. No scars to touch. He swallows. Bringing his wrist forward, he takes a look at his analogue watch.

03:15

His jaw moves to the side. He needs to find a way to get some damn shuteye and he needs to find it now. He turns his head back to look at the ceiling and brings his jaw in place. He thought about exercising until exhaustion a few days ago. He tried it. Did it work? No. He still had that damn nightmare. A frustrated growl emits from the bottom of his throat. Should he ask the science pukes for some melatonin pills? No, they’ll just give him the same lecture. His amber eyes fall on his crotch. He grits his teeth in contemplation. Fuck it, it wouldn’t hurt to try. His large hands reach for the zipper. Long fingers make short work of it and his tactical pants come undone shortly after. He pulls them down, tossing them somewhere in the room, and turns his attention to his crotch. His eyes fall on the slit starting between his testicles and ending a few inches higher. Miles frowns. He hates this fucking shit. Imagine his horror when he removed that stupid hospital gown and found no dick between his legs. He would’ve shot himself right there and then if it wasn’t for the science pukes explaining the anatomy to him. Still, he hates the idea of his dick being held internally. It’s disgusting. It’s weird. It’s alien.

He’s alien.

He clenches his jaw. That thought bothers him. He decides to ignore it.

This is not the time to be having an existential crisis.

Miles turns his attention back to the situation in front of him. Contracting the muscles of his abdomen, he pushes his cock out of the sheath folds. His right hand moves towards it, long fingers wrapping around the thick length. His cock is soft in his palm, after all he had no reason to get aroused. He just wants to bust a nut and be able to sleep peacefully. Hopefully whatever fucking hormone gets released when he shoots will help him sleep. With that in mind, his eyes return to the ceiling. He lets go of his dick and brings his palm to his mouth to spit on it. After he does so, he grabs his soft cock again. His hand spreads the spit all over his length, giving a few experimental pumps. He takes a deep breath, trying to get in the mood. With his cock in his fist he starts pumping slowly, paying extra attention to squeezing the tip. A satisfied hum leaves the bottom of his throat, and his eyes close, turning his vision blank. His mind starts skimming through snippets of memories, trying to find something to help grow an erection. But nothing seems to get him in the right mood. Miles frowns. Why is it so hard to blow a goddamn load? His other hand travels down between his legs, cupping his testicles. He fondles them, trying to get aroused, while his right hand continues pumping the length. After a few more minutes, Miles’ cock is still soft in his hand. He releases a frustrated growl. Letting go of his cock and balls, he puts his hands on his firm stomach. Well… he tried. He was no stranger to touching himself, after all it had been necessary sometimes to relieve stress, but he was never the type for a quick jack off, always preferred to take his time and get in the right mood. As he decides to call it a day and attempt sleep again, his nose twitches.

His cropped ears raise up in interest, as a sweet and lightly tangy scent gets in his nostrils. Miles sits up, tail flicking behind him, ruffling against the sheets. The scent is light but it’s still there, piquing his interest. He inhales, trying to find the source. Getting out of bed, he walks to where his sensitive feline nose is picking up this addicting smell. The air vent. Miles furrows his brows. He gets closer to it, his height allowing him to press the flat bridge of his nose right against the metal bars of the air vent, and he inhales deeply. His eyes roll back in his skull as the delicious scent fills his nostrils. His cock twitches, head poking out of the foreskin. Just what he needed. He spits harshly on his open palm again and grabs his cock, squeezing it tightly. Growling, he starts pumping, keeping the bridge of his nose pressed against the cold metal bars. He inhales again, filling his nose with the addicting scent. A part of him frowns at his own actions, not understanding why some random scent is arousing to him. While another part calls out to the newfound Na’vi instincts in him, telling him that this is someone’s scent. A female Na’vi’s scent. His mouth waters, hand fisting his now aching cock harder. He closes his eyes shut, inhaling the scent again. In the filthy pits of his mind he starts fantasizing a gorgeous Na’vi woman, pink hole stretched around his girth, moaning pathetically below him as he pistons his hips to drill into her tight pussy. She squeezes around his girth, velvety walls providing him with mind numbing pleasure and a deep moan leaves his throat. The sweet sap that leaks from her hole has drenched his cock, dripping down his testicles. And it smells just like this sweet, addicting scent. Miles’ other hand moves down, cupping his testicles again. He fondles them, feeling the first wave of that tightness deep in them as his other hand focuses on the tip of his dick, thumb moving to rub the slit that’s leaking precum. He growls, inhaling again, pressing his nose harder against the bars of the air vent. Whoever this woman is, the smell of her cunt is driving him insane. He fists his length harder, bringing his hips forward as his ears fold back and tail raises up in an arch behind him. The woman in his fantasy screams, releasing high pitched moans as she squeezes impossibly tight around him and cums, hot walls convulsing and clamping down on his cock. Miles feels his balls tighten, and those waves of tingling pleasure reach his abdomen before his urethra throbs in pleasure and the veiny cock starts pulsating in his fist.

“Fuckin’ hell!” Miles growls and with a final tight and harsh pump, he cums, shooting blanks on the wall where the air vent is, ropes of cum dripping down the surface. A shaky breath leaves his throat, as the last seconds of his orgasm fade away. He opens his eyes. Staring at the mess on the wall and on his hand, he huffs in annoyance. Great. Now he has to clean up. His head turns towards the air vent again. The scent is fading away. It’s still there, but it’s light. He clenches his jaw. Forcing himself to move away from the vent, he grabs a bunch of tissues and messily wipes his cum from the wall. He’s about to clean his hand when an idea pops in his head. Hesitantly, he brings his hand up to his face. His eyes inspect the cum dripping down the back of his hand. It glows lightly in a soft blue hue, not much but still noticeable enough in the darkness of his room. His tongue darts out. Experimentally, he licks some of it from his hand, his own flavor coursing in his taste buds. Miles hums in satisfaction, his tongue darts out fully and he licks his hand clean with one swipe of the large muscle. The salty yet tasty flavor fills his mouth, and he swallows the thick and warm liquid down. Slowly, he wipes the spit he left on his hand along with the amount he lubricated on his dick, and throws the tissues in the trashcan. He gets under the covers again, getting comfortable. That light tiredness after an orgasm catches up to him, and he sighs in satisfaction. It worked. Maybe he won’t see that nightmare tonight.

He takes a look at his analogue watch again.

03:44

He takes off the watch, putting it on the nightstand. A yawn leaves his lips, canines coming out as he does so. His eyes roam over the ceiling again. Who did that scent belong to? Another female Recombinant must have been aroused too, that’s the only explanation he can give. But the only women on his squadron are Walker and Z Dog. His face twists in displeasure. The thought of having pumped his cock to the scent of Walker’s or Z Dog’s arousal leaves an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. Disgusting. It couldn’t have been them. Well, Walker is not awake yet. She’s still being held in hibernation sleep somewhere in the labs. Z Dog on the other hand… well Z Dog is Z Dog. No explanation needed.

However, he did overhear some of the science pukes talking about another team of Recombinants, made in a different lab. He clenches his jaw. Another squadron? But the only people who were part of the Recom Program were his own field operators. What did the RDA do?

Well whatever the RDA did, he just jerked off to her. Miles frowns. Fucking Na’vi genes, making him act out like a damn dog in heat. He pushes that thought aside. He has more important issues to deal with. Turning on his side, he closes his eyes, trying to get himself to sleep. His tail stops moving, now resting flat on the mattress. Taking a deep breath, he quiets his mind.

In a few weeks they board on Pandora. He will get to see that death trap of a moon again. But this time… this time he comes prepared. He’s not the naïve man he was back then. Not anymore. This time he will bring hell to that fucking world, he will slaughter, terrorize and destroy mercilessly. He doesn’t care who or what is there anymore, if it stands in his way, he will make sure it disappears off the face of the Universe in the most agonizing and brutal way a being can muster. Because this time, he will accomplish his mission.

This time he will eliminate Jake Sully.

Title Explanation:

Zero dark thirty – Military time, very early hours before dawn.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ

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whxre-bxby · 1 year

Text

“Colonel’s Orders”

(oh to be manhandled by Mansk like Tsireya)

Smut with Mansk, Miles, and Lyle

Summary: Quaritch gathers everyone outside for a new type of training session. The recom team don’t know what’s about to happen except for Miles and Lyle. This lesson is meant to increase the team’s hunting skills, however, you and Z-Dog are excluded. We have to pretend to be the prey first, which we think isn’t fair. Eventually, we are persuaded and have a head start before being hunted.

Warnings: HEAVY SMUT, a little Angst?, predator and prey kink, NON-CON SEX, bad language, tiny bit of voyeurism, breeding kink, degrading

Word Count: 6803

Masterlist

Colonel's Orders Version 2.0

I was in the break room, getting a drink from the fridge when Lopez walked past, greeting me.

“Outside in 10. We have training.” he says, about to leave.

“What? But we finished for today.” I reply and he turns back.

“Colonel’s orders. Outside in 10, dressed appropriately for training.” he repeated before walking away. I just stare into nothingness for a while, wondering why we suddenly have to gather again when we just ended less than 2 hours ago. It’s not like I could do anything about it so I put the cold drink back and went to my room to go get dressed in Cammie pants and a tank top.

While leaving my room and walking down the hallway, I met Zdinarsk. She smiled, nodding to me.

“Do you know what this is about?” I ask and she shakes her head no, shrugging.

“Maybe the Colonel has some announcement.”

“Why outside though?” I say, asking myself more than her. She scoffs, wearing the same things I’m wearing and we walk out onto the large concrete jet runway. The sun is beaming down strongly and the warmth of Pandora hits our skin.

Quite a bit away, we see most of the recom-team already gathered. The Colonel, Lyle, Mansk, Prager, Lopez, Ja, Brown, and Fike are outside, all standing around each other, talking.

Walker is busy with testing tools in the lab along with Warren and Zhang.

We walk next to each other and I squint, having to look at the ground because the sun was too bright. The wind caressed my face and made my hair flow. It made my hair flow… I forgot to tie it up. Oh no.

Quaritch got angry about that once, I hoped he wouldn’t mind me running back before we started.

“Finally, the ladies have decided to show up.” Quaritch loudly announces, grinning while his hands rest on his vest.

I tilt my head confused.

“Are we late?” I ask Z-Dog confused, who is already checking her watch. She shakes her head.

“We’re two minutes early.” she replies in a sassy tone but still keeping it respectful with our superior.

“Could have been another two minutes earlier.” he says, before fully turning around to face us. We choose wisely to not reply or fire any comment back. It could cause problems. He seems to be pleased with our silence.

“Y/N, hope that ponytail ain’t too tight.” Lyle chuckles, noticing my open hair. I glare at him, fully aware of my mistake. I almost always have to have my hair tied back, so it's rare anyone sees me like this.

I glance at Quaritch who is looking at my hair.

“I can run back and get it, sir.” I say, taking a step back to be ready to go.

“That won’t be necessary.” He calmly states, looking from my hair to my eyes, before speaking to the group.

“You won’t be needing it now. In fact, I think I prefer it like that.” he smirks, and I hear a few chuckles from the men. Z-Dog is just as confused as me.

“Alright squad, today’s… second session will be a bit different from what we did this mornin’. “ the Colonel starts announcing and everyone quiets down. I quickly scan the team, and notice Lyle grinning to himself. As if he knew about something. Maybe this was some sort of surprise.

“I discussed this matter with, Corporal Wainfleet here. We decided that this team needs less training as humans and more training as Na’vi. “ he continues. So Lyle does know what’s going on. I glance between him and the Colonel, wondering what they had planned. Maybe we would finally get to train our banshees today.

Lyle looks up at me and Z-Dog with a shit-eating grin on his face. I exchange judgemental looks with her. We wanted to know why we were dragged out here.

“If we want to find Sully, we need to be able to hunt Na’vi. I mean hunt like them and hunt them.” he says, his eyes roaming over all his soldiers, to make sure we understand and are listening.

“Which is exactly what we are going to do today.”

I raise my eyebrows. We were going to look for and hunt down Na’vi people? I didn’t know whether I was excited or terrified. Lyle is grinning again and looking at his buddies. They don’t seem to know all he knows and he signals to them that they’ll know in a second. Mansk is nodding along to what Quaritch says, staying serious while Lyle is acting like a teenager about to do something stupid. Maybe that is an exaggeration. He is standing still, keeping quiet and listening, but his grin is irritating me.

It doesn’t seem like a good sign.

“We’re just gonna go into the jungle and find some more blue freaks?” Fike asks, and Quaritch is now grinning too.

“Not exactly.” Lyle intervenes. “We’re going to practise that here, between us. We’re the only Na’vi for miles.”

“How?” I blurt out. To be fair, it what his fault for not saying all the information at once.

“Glad you asked, buttercup.” he smiles, turning to me. I frown at the nickname, straining my ears back. He does that often, to embarrass me in front of others I think, but it’s getting old.

“We’re gonna need two people to be the so-called prey.” he explains, while walking towards me. “The rest of the team will hunt them. As simple as that.”

“Who’s gonna be the prey? I don’t think anyone wants to volunteer for that one.” Prager announces after a minute and Lyle chuckles.

“We’ve already got our prey.” Lyle says, returning his gaze to me and looking me deep in the eyes.

Finally, I catch on to what he’s saying. I’m about to fire some comments back when Lyle is pulled away by Quaritch.

“Prey, my ass.” I snap at him, not angry just pissed off.

I glance between them and I hear Zdinarsk huff beside me in disbelief.

“No fucking way.” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

Mansk and the others understand now too. I hear a few chuckles from them, while I just stare at Lyle and Miles in disbelief.

“We’re not doing that.” I say, backing up Z-Dog.

“That’s an order.” Quaritch says, smirking amusedly.

“Why us? Why can’t one of them go?” I complain.

“That’s an order.” he repeats himself, underlining every word. I frown, letting my ears droop as my tail flicks behind me in irritation.

My silence is an answer to him and he returns to explaining.

“Now, our lovely ladies will get a five-minute head start. Then-”

“Five?!” I accidentally interrupt and he looks at me annoyed.

“I can make that three.” he threatens and I look down, not saying a word again. He turns back.

“Using the stronger senses we have in our bodies, it shouldn’t be too hard.” the Colonel continues to explain. The recom-men exchange glances and smirks, some nodding while others nudge each other’s arms. They seem happy.

Z-Dog and I exchange the hundredth glance for today, not seeming to believe what is happening.

“Pfft… stronger senses.” I mutter under my breath. I’ll make sure they won’t find me.

“That’s right Y/N,” the Colonel said. How did he even hear that?

“Some scientists told me that Na’vi get cycles. So-called ‘heat cycles’...”

My eyes widen. I just keep hearing more and more bad news.

“And apparently we are approaching our one soon…” Quaritch continues. Wainfleet is still grinning like the bitch he is.

Everyone is surprised and listening.

“Durin’ these times, it’s easier for us…” he points at the recom-men who are all gathered together, “to be able to pick up your pretty scent.” he turns to Z-Dog and me, smirking. Zdinarsk is very clearly not impressed, yet she seems almost unfazed by his words.

On the other hand, I am mindblown and I don’t know whether I’m pissed at Lyle, Miles or the scientists who summoned me into this body. I still can’t decide whether this experience is a curse or a blessing.

“To make it a tad easier for us, no shirts allowed.” Lyle added and Quaritch didn’t seem to disagree. That was it, that was my final straw. I couldn’t believe it. I snort, clutching my face in my palms while Z-Dog just chews her gum and watches my reaction.

“This is bullshit.” I say, letting my hands slide from my face. The entire team’s attention is focused on me and I don’t know how to feel about it.

Quaritch raises his eyebrow at me as if challenging me to continue my petty behaviour. I fall in line under his gaze.

Z-Dog sighs beside me before peeling her tank top off. I sigh as well. If she’s doing it, I must too. I turn away a little, facing the open runway and pull my tank top over my head, leaving me in a sports bra and cammies, like Z.

I turn around, arms crossed in front of my chest, holding the shirt. The team was oddly silent.

It wasn’t the first time we’d been in a sports bra in front of them. During the hot days or really intense training lessons, we would just wear them while the others didn’t even wear a shirt. But it still seemed different because this time it had a different meaning. But training is training, what can one do?

“Drink before you go.” Quaritch ordered, his own arms crossed over his chest, seeming pleased that we followed orders without complaining too much anymore.

After all, he was our superior, and responsible for us, so making us drink was not uncommon.

Lyle handed us each a water bottle, from which we took a few gulps. Some water trickled down the side of my mouth and on my chest but I didn’t care. It was too warm to mind that.

I handed it back to him, sending him a glare just to let him know that I was pissed.

“Alright, you’re ready.” Quaritch said, but I wasn’t finished just yet.

“What if I just don’t run?” I ask, more out of curiosity than sass.

He takes an intimidating step forward. “Then I’ll deal with you right here, in front of everyone.” He stated firmly, staring me down. I looked away again, nodding a little before turning away and standing next to Z-Dog again who was already facing where we have to go.

I didn’t quite know what he meant by that, I could only assume. And I assumed that he would do something I would not want others to see.

“Alright, you see the entry in the fence there? That’s where the forest starts. You go through there and then wherever you want after that. We’ll find you.” Quaritch says, pointing to the gate with the opening, separating the forest from the concrete. I huff annoyed facing the direction we were supposed to run in after throwing my shirt at Lyle’s face. It wasn’t far until the fence. I wondered if I would encounter any native creatures, thinking that perhaps I should be armed but then again, none of them ever get close to here.

“Happy runnin’ ladies. Time starts…now.” Quaritch says and once he finishes Z-Dog is walking away already. I jog up to her and we walk more or less side by side for a while. Then we hear someone yell that if we don’t start running now they will shorten the time. I groan out in frustration, letting my head fall back before picking up my pace and running to the fence, close behind Zdinarsk.

Before we know it we reach the fence where we slow down and look around before walking into the forest.

“Is it smart to stick together?” she asks me and I think about it.

“Probably not. If we’re working as a team here, it makes sense for us to split. That way if they all find one of us, the other is still fine.” I reply, not quite knowing what to expect.

“Let’s kick their ass. I say we continue for an hour, then we return home.” she says and smiles to herself.

“Heh- imagine if we just ditch the mission while they are still out here.” I chuckle and she joins.

Silence.

“We’d get in so much tr-”

“Yeah, Colonel would kill us.” She agrees.

We walk in silence again, thinking about what he would be yelling. Then I check my watch.

“They’ll come after us in a minute. We should split now.” I say and she nods in agreement.

“Aight. See ya’.” we bump our fists together before I take a right turn and she goes left. The next time I look over my shoulder, I don’t see her anymore.

I look at the time again. They must have already left the base. Probably just arrived in the forest right now.

I push my way through leaves, my ears flicking around, picking up small noises. The forest felt very abandoned. There was almost no noise.

I went deeper. If they would really follow my scent, I couldn’t have it going in a straight line. I let my feet carry me faster again and I made occasional turns while making sure I was putting enough distance between the base and me. With the new body came a new and better sense of coordination. If I would continue wandering for the next few hours, I still wouldn’t get lost.

I looked at my watch again only to see it had frozen. ‘Great’ I thought.

What feels like at least 2 hours have passed and my legs were getting a little tired. The sun was still up, it was only afternoon. I gave up on running. It seemed to me as though they had overestimated their capabilities and would not find me. Maybe I should start turning back?

I stop for a while, standing completely still, trying to pick up anything. Any noise, sight or smell. But there was nothing. While standing I became aware of an odd feeling in my groin.

I curse myself. The fucking heat cycle. It didn’t hit me, it slowly developed. I had felt something similar this morning, but it was growing now.

“My scent is probably stronger now.” I whisper to myself.

Once the 5 long minutes were over, Mansk had made it his priority to find you. While your aroused scent wasn’t present, your normal one was and that alone drove Mansk feral. He wanted to be the first one to get you.

Since your scent had a serious effect on Mansk, he was able to recognise it easier and he left the team, going out to hunt you down on his own.

I keep walking until I feel a different type of strange feeling. I look around myself and stay quiet, but no one is there. Yet, strangely I no longer feel like I am alone. As if I had some company that I didn’t know about. If my feeling was right, it was either a creature, Z-Dog or one of the soldiers.

Then again, Z went the other way and forest animals don’t come so close to the human’s area, so chances were one of the soldiers was close. I continued walking, looking in front for a while then turning my head, to glance behind me while still moving. I turn around and walk a few steps backwards, not changing the direction I was going in, trying to find any movement between the leaves I just walked by.

That’s when it happened. Suddenly I felt arms snake around me from behind. One held my arms down and wrapped around my waist while the other pressed someone’s hand over my mouth. I screamed from the sudden surprise but the short loud noise was muffled by the palm. It all happened so quickly, my mind was struggling to keep up.

I was pulled against someone’s body and I could immediately tell it was one of the recom’s because of the gear they were wearing. They held me close to their body, preventing my struggle and walking a few steps back.

“Shhh…” the voice cooed. “Stop strugglin’.”

My eyes opened wider. It was Mansk holding me. I let my eyes dart around, trying to find the others but it seemed as though he was alone. I calmed down, no longer trying to escape his grasp.

Mansk let his hand slip from my mouth but surprised me when he wrapped it around my neck, forcing my gaze up a little.

“Great, you- got me.” I say, attempting to get out of his embrace. “You can let me go now.”

“That ain’t happenin’.” he replied, tightening his arm around me. I whine in protest, letting my head drop a little.

“Can’t let you escape now.” he said and from the way the words left his mouth, I could tell he was grinning.

His presence affected me. Smelling his musk and being pressed up against his chest had my heart racing and I knew it wouldn’t be long until he would pick up on that.

“I won’t run away, my leg hurts.” I lie to him, knowing I need to distance myself from him as fast as possible. I wasn’t sure what would happen if he would know what was going on. Quaritch told us all about the heat cycles but I don’t think anyone was expecting it to start today. Maybe it was the fact that this predator-prey game had me feeling some type of way.

To my surprise, he lets me go but doesn’t step away. His arms just fall to his sides and he is examining my every movement. I turn around to properly face him.

Mansk and I were never really close. The whole team was close but we were never more than that. But it wasn’t awkward between us. Some other atmosphere was created. I would have said I felt sexual tension but that could be just because slowly I was becoming painfully aroused and he happened to be really attractive.

I took a few steps back, watching him as he watched me. Something about the way he looked at me had me thinking that he seemed frustrated. Perhaps it was the way his tail was flicking around behind him.

But without further ado, I needed to save myself and my ego. I was too prideful to give in to my feelings just yet. I couldn’t make it that easy.

My feet took off, back in the direction I came from and away from Mansk.

Of course, he was predicting a reaction like that so without hesitation, he was sprinting after me.

In the next few seconds, I was tackled to the ground, letting out an even louder scream this time. Mansk must have thrown himself at me and I was planted basically face-first in the ground. I was laying stretched out and I felt Mansk on top of me.

“Nice try.” he chuckled, pulling my arms behind my back. I groaned in frustration, knowing I had no chance to escape him and that time was running out. Mansk cuffed both my wrists together with the elastic red handcuffs we carried around.

“Really? Handcuffs?” I ask, trying to ridicule his actions as my last resort.

He turns me over so that my back is laying on the floor and I’m looking up at him. He’s on his knees, with each leg on either side of my thighs.

“I caught you, sweetheart. I ain’t lettin’ you out’ my sight.” he said, pushing his shades up on his head to get a better look at me.

I felt how my cheeks heated up and the feeling between my legs was now undeniable.

“Look at you, all pretty and flustered.” he smirks. His hand cups the side of my face and he runs his thumb over my cheek.

The sight and the scent of you have him feeling extremely fucking turned on. The whole hunt had him getting worked up and he had been fighting the urge to relieve himself. But it wasn’t something he could do himself. He felt the urge to breed.

Seeing you under him like this, experiencing your own heat problems had Mansk lose control. Once he picked up the scent of you in the forest, most of his common sense was gone. His mind could only focus on finding you. Now he succeeded and he wasn’t able to hold back.

Without another thought, he flipped me back around. His hands traced my body, running down my back and back up my hips. He fumbled with my bra, just touching the fabric before he attached his hands to my pants and started tugging them down. With his strength, the belt was useless. He removed my panties in the process too because his fingertips hooked under both waistbands.

Mansk pulled my hips up while my upper body remained pressed into the ground. He was positioned right behind me and I heard him groan a little once my pants were removed. My heavy breathing was accompanied by his.

His hand wrapped around my nervously swishing tail and he moved it out of the way, while his own tail was revealing his own frustrations.

Mansk’s urges were getting stronger the more he would try to solve them. He sense how badly I was suffering the heat as well and were both just desperate to solve our problems. I needed him so badly and vice versa.

I heard him undo his belt hastily while wrapping his other hand around my braid to make sure I can’t escape. Soon enough he let out a sigh of relief and I felt him press his bare crotch against mine. I felt his throbbing dick, pressed up against my pulsating core. The warmth of our bodies was mixing and he couldn’t take it anymore. Mansk was quite literally panting now, his big hands gripping my hips.

I felt him pull away before moving his hips forward. His dick was perfectly lined up with where I craved him the most and he thrust forward into me, burying himself as deep into me as he could.

I moaned, arching my back and pressing myself into him more while he bit his lip, letting his head drop back in relief.

“F-fuck babygirl… so tight f’er me.” he groaned, before pulling out and repeating his actions.

Mansk then leaned forward, holding himself up with his hands firmly splayed out on the ground on either side of my body. He tucked my waist right below his stomach and continued bucking his hips up into mine. My mind was getting cloudy and I whimpered, the pleasure saving me from the uneasy cravings I felt before. Mansk started to ruthlessly fuck me from behind, but the more he did the more he realised how deep and strong his need to breed was. He needed you to stay in your place beneath him and take it.

All chances of you leaving were eliminated when he wrapped both his arms around your tilted waist, hugging you while continuing to rut into my almost squelching pussy. My body's noises ignited a fire in him. The harder he fucked me, the louder the noise of skin slapping filled my ears. His head was lolling down and he quickly undid my handcuffs with one swift move. He needed to be closer to me. I pushed my upper body up from the ground, being rocked forward by his thrusts on all fours.

Mansk immediately pressed his chest against my back, one toned arm holding him up while the other hugged me, bringing my entire body closer to him.

“Mansk-” I whine, feeling the building-up pressure deep inside me. It felt like too much but it was so good.

“Take it.” he growled into my ear. His fangs were bared and his ears strained back as both of us had our primal sides take over our bodies. Mansk’s head rested in the crook of my neck, his panting breath heating up my already warm skin.

I started to clench around him, feeling my orgasm approach sooner than expected. He felt the way I squeezed him and it stimulated him more, so he sped up his pace a little. My body was tensing and with a few more thrusts, I came undone around Mansk.

My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I let out what sounded like another scream, followed by a string of moans calling out Mansk’s name.

He relentlessly pounded into me and then had his climax take over his body. Mansk was drowning in pleasure and was only acting on his instincts. He needed to keep you in place so he tightened his grip around your body, caging you in, bit down between your shoulder and neck, stilled his hips and released his load deep into you.

His tense muscles soon relaxed and his arm dropped to the ground to ensure he wouldn’t fall. My legs were shaking and both of us were trying to regain our breath.

The mating bite he gave me didn’t even hurt in the moment. Once he released, he removed his fangs from my skin, just letting his hot open lips rest on it.

I let my head drop, releasing a breathy sigh. The fuzziness in my mind was fading away and reality was returning.

Mansk then slowly lifted himself off my back, pulling out in the process. He rested his hand on my back, while the two of us calmed down. I sat back on my knees, lazily lifting my head and checking our surroundings.

“Y’ alright?” he asked me, and I heard a hint of worry in his voice. Maybe he thought that he hurt me.

I nod, smiling.

“Yeah, great.”

He smirked, handing me my pants before pulling his ones up and adjusting his belt.

I sit there for a while, holding the clothes and just trying to focus on clearing my mind. That’s when I pick up a noise. My head turns in the direction of the distant rustling leaves. I wonder whether I’m just hearing things but when I turn back to look at Mansk, who is geared up again I can tell he’s hearing it too.

Seeing that you haven’t quite recovered yet, Mansk steps forward, feeling the need to protect you. His ears were tipped back but still trained on the approaching noise. He raised his weapon, waiting to see what would come out between the tall grass, huge leaves and trees.

He stood in front of me as if he were shielding me from what was to come. I watched as well, staying alert in case of any danger. My hands held my clothes over my exposed self, trying to cover up what a few moments earlier I had exposed.

After a few moments, the noise got so close one could tell it was footsteps by the pace at which the noise was coming in. My eyes widened and I went pale. Mansk wasn’t the only recom hunting me.

Quickly I stood up, holding the clothes in front of my abdomen, fastening them by wrapping my tail around myself. I stood behind Mansk, peeking past him to see.

A faint voice was heard and some mumbling until we saw the leaves rustling. Suddenly, Quaritch emerged from the forest with Lyle behind him.

They looked just as surprised to see us as we were to see them. Well, the two men were following my scent just like Mansk had done, but they were surprised to see Mansk there with me.

Manks lowered his weapon, wanting to let out a small sigh of relief at the false alarm of danger until he realised that they must be in the same state he was in before. While he still felt protective, he couldn’t prevent anything from happening. Especially because both of them were his superiors. Colonel Quaritch and Corporal Wainfleet.

“Well won’t ya look at that,” Quaritch said looking at me. “I was hopin’ to catch you.”

I don’t think either of them had caught on to what had happened. Lyle only now realised that I was standing behind Mansk. The Colonel observed Mansk, raising an eyebrow at him before Mansk huffed and moved out of the way.

Miles’ and Lyle’s eyes landed on me and instantly noticed the newly bare skin I was showing. They seemed surprised again. The Colonel raised both his eyebrows, just staring at me pathetically trying to cover myself and he scoffed.

Lyle was grinning, both of them seeming amused by how I was standing in front of them. Mansk on the other hand was cursing himself for not dressing you when he had the chance. He wasn’t thrilled about the idea of them seeing you like this. At least he got you first.

That’s when I heard a voice in my ear and realised it was Z-Dog. My ears perked up and I flinched a little.

‘Y/N?’ she asked and I pressed the call on my throat to reply.

“Z-Dog? How you doing?” I ask, wondering whether she hasn’t been caught yet. Miles notices what’s happening and presses his own call on his throat, listening to our conversation.

‘I’m kinda fucked, not gonna lie.’ she replies and I have to suppress a giggle.

“Same here.” I reply and she starts complaining about this taking too long. Miles dismisses it with a wave of his hand and stops listening. I do too, needing to focus on the situation I was in.

Quaritch walks past Mansk and towards me, while Lyle follows. He stares me down but not in a hateful way. He’s examining me. My reactions to him. He needs to know how I feel because my scent has had him and Lyle both feeling sexually frustrated over the past hour.

Lyle passes his fellow soldier. “What? Don’t like sharin’?” he teases Mansk before returning his gaze to me. Mansk grunts, clearly not pleased.

“I thought you were innocent, princess.” Miles said, putting his finger under my chin and forcing me to meet his eyes.

I started feeling all flustered and overwhelmed again. If more soldiers would come after Miles and Lyle I would pass out.

For slight comfort, I curled my tail around my lower thigh. My eyes looked away from Quaritch’s ones and I naturally had my ears tipped back, showing my restless state.

“I think I prefer you like this, though.” Miles added and Lyle smirked. I looked up at Miles and noticed how his nose twitched.

He picked up your scent which was 10 times as strong now. He had it flooding his mind with vivid imaginations for the past hour, but never was it this strong.

I watched how his pupils seemed to dilate and his eyes magically grew darker. Lyle smelled it too, and groaned, adjusting his pants. I glanced down and almost gasped. They seemed to be just as lust-hindered as me.

While my problem had just been solved by Mansk, seeing them had me feeling aroused all over again. I bit my lip and clenched my legs together and Miles’ eyes shot down, watching my movements. That’s what broke his restraining form. He grabbed my shoulder, angling me to the side so that his hand could grasp my braid. His other hand then went down and he tore the pants that were covering me from my grip. I squeaked at the sudden movements and then felt how Quaritch kicked in the back of my knees, making me fall down to mine with his guidance.

Lyle chuckled, moving forward to stand in front of me. Quaritch got down on his knees behind me, examining me for a few seconds before his hand reached out for my bra and pulled it up so that my breasts were now bare in front of all of them. My face heated up in embarrassment because I was the only one exposed like this.

He then pushed me further down and I found myself on all fours again. My tail was trying to cover my pussy but it was no use. The Colonel had one hand wrapped around my braid, tugging it back, while the other grabbed my tail and moved it to the side.

Suddenly, Lyle got down on his knees in front of me and I noticed how strained his pants were from his hard-on. He took over, holding the braid so that Quaritch could focus on my lower half. He held my tail to the side and let his fingers glide through the folds of my pussy.

Still being a little sensitive from last time, I flinch but it feels so good that a soft moan escapes my lips.

“Look at you, acting like a bitch in heat.” Miles teases, delivering a harsh spank to my right cheek. I yelp, biting down on my lip and the Lyle cups my face, stroking my cheekbone with his thumb, just staring down at me while his superior continues to tease me.

I was in fact, a bitch in heat.

“Don’t worry, baby. We’ll give you what you want.” Quaritch says and I feel a little relieved that the teasing will end.

The Colonel would have continued but he needed to solve his own cravings and they couldn’t wait any longer.

Behind me, I once again heard a belt being undone and a zipper opened. Lyle did the same in front of me and I gasped a little when I saw his dick. Holy shit, he was big.

I felt Miles, push his head against my hot slick skin, rubbing it for a bit before he lined himself up with me. I held my breath, knowing there was almost no time for foreplay because our needs were too strong. One could call the hunt, foreplay.

Quaritch’s hand wrapped around my tail and his other hand gripped my hip and he thrust himself into me swiftly with one move. I was still wet from Mansk so it was easier to fit this time.

Miles hissed at the feeling and pleasure started clouding his senses too. I moaned, arching my back into Miles and Lyle chuckled.

“I didn’t think you’d be greedy, Buttercup.” Lyle teased, placing his cock on my parted lips. “You just got fucked and now ya gettin’ it again.”

I couldn’t even comprehend what he was saying because Quaritch started moving his hips against mine, not being able to stop himself from mindlessly rutting into me.

“Open that pretty lil’ mouth, baby.” Lyle said, grasping my jaw into his hand. I do as he says and look at him through the eyelashes of my half-lidded eyes. Lyle lets my tongue glide over the tip of his dick and he bites down on his bottom lip, tightening his grip on my hair. Then he slowly angles my jaw down and pushes a bit of himself into me, so that his dick presses against the inside of my cheek. I wrap my lips around him, using my tongue to continue to worship his cock.

Miles grunts, speeding his pace up. “Ya feel so good- fuck, sweet’eart.” he curses, keeping his eyes fixed on where he’s disappearing into me while occasionally glancing at how I’m taking Lyle.

Lyle holds my head in place and rocks his hips back a forth a bit. I can see how he is fighting the urge to just fuck my face but if I would let him I would most definitely suffocate. Each time he pushes himself down my throat a little more, until I reach my limit and he’s only halfway in. Luckily, Lyle doesn’t seem to care because once he pushed in as far as possible, his head lolled back in bliss.

Each time Miles hit a specific spot inside me that made me lose my mind, I moaned around Lyle which stimulated him even further.

“Such a slut for us, huh baby?” Miles said breathily, knowing damn well I couldn’t reply.

“So good…” Lyle sighed, his eyes watching my lips.

I was being tugged back and forth, and I felt Quaritch’s nails dig into my hip. Their pants and grunts were sending shivers down my body and I felt my legs start to shake.

“Who’s fucking you this good, sweetheart?” Miles asks, speeding up his ruthless pace. I moan around Lyle in response, squeezing my eyes shut.

Lyle can’t help himself but push himself a little further into you. It’s been overwhelming from the start and now I can’t restrain a choke, followed by a muffled cough. Quickly, I try to relax my throat and I feel tears stinging in the corners of my eyes.

I look up pleadingly at Lyle and see how his bottom lip has almost turned white from how hard he is holding it between his teeth. His tail is flicking behind him in satisfaction and his muscles keep flexing.

I feel Miles’ thrusts go sloppy and he lets go of my hip, his free hand travelling beneath me and almost immediately finding my clit. My eyes shoot open and I whimper.

He applies pressure to my clit, rubbing it with his middle finger while I can’t stop myself from pressing further into him.

“That’s it, almost there, baby.” Miles says between clenched teeth, focusing on having me release at the same time as him.

I hollow my cheeks around Lyle and he groans again, throwing his head back while guiding my head up and down him. The fact that I’m able to take so much of him into my mouth turns him on so much he can’t suppress his climax anymore.

Lyle thrusts forward, holding my mouth firmly close to him while his entire body tenses and he empties himself down my throat. Since he’s so far down, I swallow all of his cum out of reflex.

Lyle pulls out of me and I manage to finally breathe again. His fingers wipe some spit and cum off my lip as he watches the way my face contorts in pleasure.

“Sir-” I moan, wanting to let him know I’ll cum soon. Addressing him like that at this moment made his stomach twist in excitement and he continued to pound into me.

“I know baby, you can let go.” He breathes out, his finger still massaging my clit. He switches his angle again and perfectly hits my G-spot making me cry out.

I come undone and swear that I can see stars. My mind and vision go blank for a few seconds as I spasm around Quaritch who rides out my high before climaxing. He curses under his breath, both hands gripping my hips as he thrusts himself as deep into me as possible and stills his movements.

The Colonel’s muscles flex and his head falls back while he releases his cum deep into me, having it mix with Mansk’s.

Lyle had zipped his pants up again, and was holding my head up with his hand, grinning at the way my eyes rolled to the back of my head.

I hear a sigh behind me and Miles slowly pulls out and I start losing balance. My body starts tipping to one side but both men hold me steadily again before I can fall.

“You still with us, Buttercup?” Lyle asks, chuckling when he sees my glossy eyes. I’m completely fucked out and they know it.

I nod, with a small cough and a sniffle. He wipes a few tears away, caressing my cheek again. My bra was adjusted down again and after Miles dressed himself, he helped me back into my underwear and pants.

Mansk helped me to my feet while the other two adjusted their belts and picked up their weapons. I was leaning against him, my head pressed against his arm while I tried to regain my senses in reality.

“You doin’ okay, pretty?” Mansk asks, his hand comfortingly rubbing up and down my back. I gently nod, sniffling a little again and rubbing my eye. I was so exhausted.

“We’re headin’ back. We reassemble the squad and then return to base.” Miles orders and both soldiers nod. He walks up to me, smiling when I look up at him.

“You did good, sweetheart. Can ya’ manage?” he asks, wondering whether I will be able to walk home. I tiredly nod, and he returns it before leading the way. Mansk guides me, letting me lean on him whenever I have to while Lyle walks at the back, to ensure our safety.

Even though I was still in a rather scary and unfamiliar environment, to be completely honest, I don’t think I’ve ever felt safer in my entire life.

...

Colonel's Orders Version 2.0 (Ja and Prager smut)

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whereireid · 10 months

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˚ · . 𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐂𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: miles quartich x fem!reader | masterlist.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: An unexpected visit from Colonel Miles Quaritch has you itching for relief.

𝐰��𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: imbalances of power. unestablished relationships. degradation. unedited. nsfw content; dubious consent (sex pollen/aphrodisiacs.) nipple play, rough p in v, oral, male masturbation, breeding [knotting].

“They’re just stupid plants.” Quartich’s stern voice cuts through the thick and palpable tension which lingers in the air. His lips are pursed, his arms crossed over his chest in disapproval. “Stop gettin’ so worked up over it.”

Eyes narrowing, you can’t help the unamused scoff which slips past your lips. You can’t really comprehend the situation, your hand coming up to rub your forehead in annoyance. Not only has the Colonel invaded your office, he’s also managed to break various forms of surreptitious vegetation that you had sheathed away in jars.

One of those jars was stuffed full with a plant that secretes a mysterious liquid when threatened, which it very much was, considering the fact that Quaritch knocked it off your desk without bother, smashing the glass jar it sat in to pieces.

“They aren’t just plants,” you mumble, sighing as you sink to your knees and begin picking up the broken shards of glass, grimacing as your fingers swipe over the creamy, milky liquid which has pooled onto the marble flooring. “Have you learnt nothing about Pandora and the way of life since being here? Nothing is never really nothing. All things have a purpose.”

He scowls, his nostrils flaring slightly as he looks down on you. He’s only slightly intimidating, the shine of his boots catching your eyes as you awkwardly scoop the glass into the plastic bag. You’re still unsure as to why he’s actually in here, the reason for his invasion untold.

When he doesn’t speak, you do, your voice wobbling slightly. “Haven’t you gotten what you wanted, now? Can you just go?”

“Can’t you smell that?” Quaritch asks, his nose twitching slightly as he sniffs the air. You glance up at him, your face flushing as you notice his looming frame inches away from yours.

You hadn’t even heard him get any closer. “Um, no?”

His nose twitches again, and you try to hide the smile which graces your face as you realise that he holds a striking resemblance to that of a cat when he inhales so desperately. As you stand to your full height, you lose your grip on the plastic bag as you’re met with your head level with his crotch.

If he’s heard the glass shatter again, he doesn’t comment on it. “It smells so sweet,” he says instead, his voice low and his hands reaching towards your shoulders. The touch makes you feel hot, sending sparks shooting through your body, and you feel a strange, tingling sensation brushing over the nerves of your fingertips, where you’d brushed over the mysterious creamy liquid accidentally. “Can you really not smell that?”

Quaritch’s voice is husky, riding through you in a smooth wave, and his grip on your shoulders tightens. His fingers dig into your collarbone, and you close your eyes, trying to ignore the way your body feels like it’s being set alight by his touch. You lean into him, your throat growing tight as you inhale deeply, trying to make sense of what he’s saying.

Then, it succumbs you. Warmth rolls through your body, goosebumps peppering up and down your skin as you breathe in a deep, sickly-sweet smell. It makes you grow hot, and your brows knit together as you open your eyes, staring up at the Colonel.

“Oh my god, what have you done?” You breathe out, accusation lacing your tone. You swat his hand away, and you can feel the imprint of his fingertips burning your skin.

A bead of sweat rolls down your forehead, and you watch as Quaritch looks down on you, confusion littering his features.

“I haven’t done nothin’,” he protests, his nose crinkling as he inhales deeply. “You need better ventilation in this god damn office, get rid of this smell.”

“There is no smell!”

“It’s so god-damn hot in here,” he practically snarls, his eyes fluttering shut, lashes kissing his cheekbones. His tail thrashes in irritation behind him, his blue skin glistening with sweat as he lowers himself closer to your height. “You and the other science pukes always work in such heat?”

“You need to go,” you murmur, and you press against his chest. Quartich doesn’t waver, his hard, green eyes staring into yours. “Colonel, you — you need to leave.”

His eyes flash over your features, unimpressed by how irritable you’re being. His palms cup your shoulders, enveloping your body, and your knees weaken at his touch. “And you need to calm down, darlin’.”

Darling. Anger bubbles up in your chest, irritated by his choice of words, but as his thumb swipes over your shoulder, a different feeling entirely bubbles inside of you. It boils — makes your body feel scorching hot, and your breath hitches in your throat as you push against Quaritch’s stomach.

“This is your fault! You destroyed the plant,” you complain, your hands shaking as you feel his muscles ripple and tense beneath his tank top. “You have absolutely no idea what you’ve done, and you don’t care, and you really should get out now!”

Sniffing the air again, ears flitting, Quaritch lets out a quiet hum. He’s incredibly observant, his thumb still swiping back and forth on your shoulder, his body so exceptionally large compared to yours. “What’ve I done? Broken a god-damn plant?” His brows knit together in frustration, and as you raise your fist to swat him away again, he catches your wrist in his hand. “You need to calm down, darlin’. If you’re that bothered, I’ll go and get you another one — there’s thousands in that fuckin’ forest.”

Stomach twisting into a knot, your body thrums with anticipation. With desire. Though he’s holding you so loosely, you know that even a small clenching of his fists could result in your wrist being snapped almost completely in half, and you gaze at him with doe eyes.

“That plant is the reason your sense of smell is heightened.”

Quaritch’s nose crinkles again. The air smells sweet and warm, although anytime he diverts his attention away from you, it disappears. It’s like you’re the one who smells good; ravishing, in fact — desirable enough to eat.

“Jesus Christ, darlin’, what the hell are you talkin’ ‘bout? My sense of smell is heightened because I’m a god-damn Avatar—"

“Those — those flowers, in those jars, that you broke,” you breathe out, your heart fluttering as his thumb softly grazes your skin, “us ‘science pukes’ didn’t know what they were. We found them on the coast of Awa’atlu, and we didn’t have the proper equipment to know what they were at the time, but now I know, and it’s your fault, and you need to leave!”

The confidence in your tone wavers slightly as Quaritch brings dips his head. His nose softly grazes over your wrist, and a low growl rumbles in his chest as he inhales your scent.

“What’re you tryna tell me?”

He holds your wrist in place, nuzzling his head into your skin. It’s feral, it’s weird, and it’s surprising — this is Colonel Miles Quaritch, and your nose crinkles as you realise he’s absentmindedly scenting himself with you, something that happens in Na’vi mating rituals.

“Colonel, I—”

“— What’re those plants?”

You drag your eyes away from the wall, finally meeting his eyes. It feels like you’ve just taken a blow, instinctively recoiling as you notice his black, blown pupils. You don’t manage to recoil far, his grip on your wrist so tight, so possessive, and you let out a soft whimper as all the green within his irises appear sheathed by the dilation of his lust.

“They’re — they’re aphrodisiacs,” you blurt, trying to dull down the hammering of your heart. Your insides feel insatiably warm as he stares at you, unblinking, so domineering, so handsome, so big.

Your skin prickles as he inhales again. He’s so close, marking himself with your scent, and you curse yourself for even letting him in here in the first place. He must be horny — he just doesn’t know it yet. It’s bubbling inside of him, curling into a knot, and if he doesn’t leave soon, you’re going to the only one that can help unfray it.

Quartich doesn’t leave.

“You’re tellin’ me I just smashed a god-forsaken sex drug all over the god-damn floor?” He murmurs, stilling his motions. His cheeks are a dark, navy blush, his bioluminescent freckles sparkling like constellations.

You nod your head, trying not to show your fear as you stammer out, “that is exactly what I’m saying, sir,” you exhale, shakily, “and to make things worse, these aphrodisiacs are used primarily by Na’vi mates to, um, trigger an induced rut.”

“Rut?” Quaritch inquires, staring at you. His tail sways behind him, his skin feeling warm and itchy, his head growing fuzzy. “What the hell is a rut?”

You blink. You feel hot and confused, the excrement from the plant rendering you incredibly horny, and you find yourself leaning into his touch. Your knee brushes his inner thigh as you ask, “did they not teach you anything about the Na’vi mating rituals when they transferred you over to a recombinant?”

Instead of speaking, he just shakes his head. The side effect of the plant is affecting him, too — you can tell. His ears are pinned upright, his lips curling and exposing his canines. Impressively sharp, glinting in the light, and you have to hold back the urge to reach out and let him bite you. Your eyes flicker down absentmindedly, and you notice the strain in his cargo trousers from where he’s became erect, and your breath hitches in your throat as his spare hand reaches over to graze across your neck.

“Mating is sacred to the Na’vi. Aphrodisiacs are used to ensure that once two mates commit tshaelyu, they can breed until satisfied.” You notice the Colone’s jaw tick as you speak, his tongue sliding over his teeth as he thinks. “You don’t mate with just… anyone. Once you mate, you mate for life. Tshaelyu or not.”

A gasp slips past your lips as his hands glide over your neck, his thumb pressing into the base of your throat. “And what happens if I don’t get relief?” His southern drawl is strong, sending goosebumps darting across your skin. “If I don’t mate?”

Trying to swallow away the lump in your throat, you stare at him sheepishly. “You’ll be — you’ll be pent up until you do. Um, one of the primary side effects that the aphrodisiacs used by the Na’vi is that the recipient of the drug often has persistent—” His hands close around your throat, the foreign feeling of him gently pressing against your trachea causing tingles of desire to shoot over your body, “—persistent, um, epididymal hypertension.”

“English, darlin’.”

“Blue balls,” you stumble out, your breath hitching in your throat as the Colonel pulls you closer, his nostrils flaring as he runs his nose against your collarbone. “It’s basically blue balls.”

A groan slides past his lips as his nose pushes into the crook of your neck, and you try to hold back the whine which threatens to slip past your own. This is so wrong — he’s so intimately close to you that he’s setting your body alight with desire, but he’s the only cool stimulant to your burning skin.

“I already have those, sweetheart.” His lips tug into an amused smirk as your lips part in surprise, your cheeks flushing with warmth at his lewd statement. His palm presses into your throat slightly, and he hums as your eyelids flitter shut. “You’re sweatin’. This little drug havin’ an effect on you too, darlin’?”

Shaking your head, you try to ignore the wrenching of your heart as his fingers begin slide down to towards your chest. Everywhere that his hand graces is left cool, a reminder that you need to get relief soon. “No,” you lie, your voice wavering as he idly twirls the pendant which sits between your breasts. “No, um— oh, god— no.”

A soft moan is dragged from your throat as Quaritch’s hand brushes over your breasts through your blouse. “You lyin’ to me?” He asks, tilting his head to the side as he brings his other hand towards your chest, rubbing the swell of your chest through your blouse. “You sayin’ this don’t feel good? That all of your senses aren’t heightened?”

“There are — there are machines created by the biology team to help you through your rut.” You grit your teeth as he touches you, avoiding his question. Shame washes through your body, and it feels so good but so wrong — this is the Miles Quaritch that you’re being touched by! “Please, use them. They’ll help!”

“And what about you, sweetheart? What’re you going to use to get your relief?” Green eyes so blown and blackened you can no longer see his irises at all — an eerie black sheen just stares back at you, and you flinch as in one swift motion, he rips your blouse apart, your buttons scattering all over your office floor. “No answer? That’s okay, darlin’. You don’t have to speak. In fact, I don’t want you to.”

He dips his head slightly, his teeth dragging over the skin of your neck. “Good girls don’t talk unless they’re spoken to.”

Your eyelids flutter, your belly twisting with an insatiable desire as Quaritch gently unclips your bra, his motions calm and collected. You know he’s burning with just as much arousal as you — you can see a small bead of sweat pooling by his browline, but he’s staying cool and composed, his tongue running over his lips as your bra drops to the floor.

You open your mouth to speak, but he shushes you. “You been hidin’ these away, sweetheart?” He breathes, his head tilting down towards your chest, his tongue darting out to slowly swirl around one of your nipples. “God, they’re fuckin’ huge. Look big even in my hands.”

Gently, his lips wrap around the sensitive nub. You gasp, the spark which blazes inside of you now descending into a roaring wildfire, electricity pulsing through you as he purrs against your chest. It’s a foreign sensation, a feeling that you’ve never explored — but now you really wish that you had, because the feeling of his tongue and lips grazing over your nipples has your legs trembling.

His mouth latches onto your nipple, and your eyes flicker down to his face. You really wish that you hadn’t looked at him, because the sight forces a moan out of your mouth. His eyes are lust-filled, blown with desire, his eyes set on yours, his lips swollen as they suck softly at your chest. You squirm, your panties growing slick with your arousal.

“This is wrong.”

“I can smell you. You don’t think it’s that wrong, darlin’.”

Your head bows in shame.

“You want me to touch you? Want me to make it go away?”

He pinches your nipple with his teeth, and you exhale shakily. His canine grazes over the nub. Any sharper and he'll draw blood, and you flex your fingers in pain.

You screw your eyes shut, voice wavering as you force out, “yes, please, Colonel.”

Your pleading works, as his hand darts towards your thighs, beckoning them apart. You waste no time in opening them for him, your eyes rolling backwards slightly as he gently bites down on your nipple. Every nerve inside of you is lit, blazing and burning wilding. The concoction of the sex pollen and his unruly desire has you mewling, the skirt that you’re wearing allows him easy access. Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers glide other your clothed folds, a soft purr rumbling through him as he notes how wet and slick you are.

Face growing warmth with embarrassment, you almost falter and move away. You don’t know why you’re letting him touch you — but it feels amazing. He pushes your underwear to the side, and a whine becomes hitched in your throat as his fingers push inside of your cunt, the burning of his intrusion making you jolt.

“Ow!” Your hands plant themselves on his shoulders, pushing slightly as he scissors your walls. “That hurts!”

He smiles, but he isn’t best pleased. “Course it hurts. I’m more than twice your size, darlin’.” His voice is eerily steady, his eyes flicking across your face. “You need to learn to stop speakin’ if you haven’t been spoken to.”

His fingers curl inside of you, and in response, your hands curl in his tank top. You need him, now. Your hips buck against him, your walls fluttering around his fingers as he laps at your chest eagerly. Quaritch’s movements are precise, deliberate, each flicker of his tongue sending electricity through you, causing your body to drown in heat.

Again, Quaritch bites at your nipple, this time doing it simultaneously with the curling of his fingers. It hurts, the sensation causing tears to bubble in your eyes. The feeling of your sensitive nipple being pressed between his sharp canines has you gasping in pain, but you’re so wet and full that it doesn’t feel like it matters, a sultry twinge pulsing through you at the lewd action.

He fills you so perfectly, and your fingers curl into his shoulders as he flicks his fingers out every few seconds. He hums as droplets of your slick hit the office floor, pooling alongside the milky, white excrement of the plant, his lips curling upwards into a satisfied grin. "So wet for your Colonel," he praises, "so perfect and tight. You feel good?"

Your lips part as you hump against his hand, your skin burning a fever as you respond, "yes, yes, I feel so good!"

“That’s a good girl. Buckin’ into my hand, making it all nice and wet. Oh, darlin’, you’re so sensitive. You gonna cry?” His fingers push into you, your walls growing tight in appreciation. “God, I want you to cry. Come on, sweetheart, cry when you cum on your Colonel’s fingers.”

It’s all too much; his hot mouth suckling at your chest, the feeling of his digits pressing against the sensitive spot inside of your cunt. The names he’s calling you, the name’s he’s calling himself — it’s dirty and it’s wrong, but it soothes the shameful desire which blazes inside of you.

“Can I?” You exhale breathily, heat pooling inside your stomach as he continues to toy with you. “Can I cum, please?”

“Please what?”

“Please, Colonel?”

Your eyes are closed so tight that you see stars. His silence is looming, and you cry out as you attempt to take a deep breath, your breathing become shaky and ragged. You wail as he curls his fingers inside of you, your chest heaving and growing tight. You need to cum, and you need it now, unable to hold back the feeling which washes over you.

As though he can read your mind, Quartich says, “yes, darlin’, you can cum for me.”

Your body writhes against him, and you whimper, nodding eagerly at his words. You’re glad that he’s so buried into your chest, unable to see the swirl of emotions which paint your face. You’re shrouded by pleasure, dumbed out by the hot sparks which flicker through your body. You’re convulsing, warmth shooting through every nerve, your cunt growing slick as he rolls his fingers against the spongy spot inside of you.

Once you come down, you feel strangely numb. Satisfied. Quartich’s breath is still hot, but you feel cool. Satisfied. You’re lax against him, your eyes squeezed shut as you feel his lips pepper soft kisses to your chest.

Tears have stained your cheeks, burn the corners of your eyes, and Quaritch stares down at you in admiration, in awe. He'd never seen anything so pretty in his life, and he growls slightly as you blink the tears away.

“Open your legs.” His voice is booming, and you blink back at him in confusion. His fingers press into your thighs, and you yelp, doing as he says. “Don’t make me repeat myself. When I ask you to do somethin’, I only want to ask once."

“Yes, Colonel.”

Quaritch can see the evident confusion flitter across your face, but he doesn’t care. He isn’t bothered. His cock is straining against his cargo trousers, and he feels so hot and bothered, so overwhelmed with his desire and lust for you. He needs to taste you, needs to drown in your sweet nectar. There’s nothing quite as satisfying as the sight of your slick, glistening cunt, he decides as he forces your underwear off, the cloth now pooled around your ankles.

“Maybe this was a blessin’ rather than a curse,” he comments, his hands pressing against your plush thighs as he presses hungry kisses to the areas of skin not covered by his own. “You know, you’re the only scientist here hot enough to take a peek at.”

“I—” Your body trembles slightly as his teeth graze against your skin, his digits leaving marks into on your soft flesh. “Thank… you?”

Humming, Quaritch’s nose twitches as he presses it against your inner thigh. He’s tired of waiting — your cunt is so, so close, and it’s so wet and needy for him. “You’re welcome, darlin’.” He pauses from between your legs, and you gasp as he jolts you forward, his nose nuzzling into your pelvis bone. “Gonna eat this pretty little pussy now, sweetheart, and then I’m gonna fuck it so hard, you won’t be able to walk.”

At first, the sensation is strange. Unfamiliar and wrong. His tongue is rough, painful as it glides past your folds, the muscle mesmerising as it rides up and down your cunt. Then, however, he does what you need him to do the most — his tongue teasingly rolls up your slits, towards the pearl which sits swollen at the top of your pelvis, and it swirls around it.

“Oh, fuck,” you mumble, your thighs trembling involuntary, the plush of your flesh being indented by his harsh grip. “Ohmygod.”

“You like that, sweetheart?” He purrs, and it vibrates against you. It’s powerful, precise, and it’s much better than your vibrator.

“Yeah,” you agree absentmindedly, your eyes fluttering shut as he continues to lap at your cunt like a man starved.

Pulling away momentarily, you feel your heart leap out of your chest as you look at him. A string of spit is carried from your folds to his lips, and he lets out a breathy chuckle. “Mmm, this pretty little pussy is so swollen and so needy for its Colonel,” he comments, before he dips his head again, his tongue going back to its previous movements. "So wet and swollen and fuckin' puffy."

The feeling of Quaritch nestled inbetween your thighs makes your stomach clench, your walls fluttering. You’re burning a fever, again, and you can feel how hot his own face is now that it’s pressed against your cunt. The effect of this Aphrodisiac is too much, too overwhelming, and you wonder how he’s managing to roll his tongue up and down your cunt without pleasuring you once.

Then, it hits you — soft sounds of grunting fill your ears, and your eyes flicker back down to him. You can’t help but audibly moan as you see him stroking his cock, which is hard and beading with cum, in a slow, steady motion. He’s rutting into his hand, his grip tight, and your eyes roll backwards as he nuzzles into your cunt, licking and lapping, sucking at the heat. His motions are sloppy, his tongue being particularly attentive to your overwhelmingly sensitive bundles of nerves.

You don’t know if it’s just the drug anymore, because Quaritch’s groaning is like music to your ears. His tongue draws patterns on your clit, his breathing growing heavy as he laps sloppily at your cunt. He’s eager to please, desperate to drown in the sweet taste of your cum, and he listens to every mewl and whine, bucking into his hand every time you roll his name on your own tongue.

Moans growing breathy, you softly grind into his face. His nose presses against your pelvis bone as he grazes his teeth against your clit, his tongue swirling, his lips suckling at the bundle of nerves. He knows what you want, what you’re about to do, and it only encourages him further.

It feels like there’s a knot inside of you that breaks when you cum. It’s being torn and twisted, your stomach clenching as you cry out. You stop bucking against him, your ears ringing as you cum, your hands curling in Quaritch’s short hair.

You try to calm your hammering heart, try to relax, but you involuntarily tense as you’re seized by his rough hands. His rough tongue laps at your cunt, sliding through your folds, his tongue drawing lazy circles on your sensitive nub. Your muscles tense as you convulse, pulling and pushing him away simultaneously.

“Oh, that’s it, darlin’.” He lets out a breathy laugh as he pulls away, a lewd trail of slick following him. “Jesus Christ, you were pent up. Squirted all over me.”

“I’m sorry,” you squeak as his fingers curl into your thighs, his rough hands turning you around so your ass is facing him.

Behind you, he coos. “Oh, don’t apologise, sweetheart. You bein’ nice and wet only helps.”

There isn’t an audible warning. The only time you have to prepare is when you feel Quaritch’s tip rolls through your puffy folds, slapping lewdly against your slick cunt in order to obtain more lube.

The sting is unbearable at first. His cock is massive — bigger than anything you’ve ever tried, and a choked cry escapes your mouth as his tip breaches your swollen cunt, your walls sheathing him instantly.

“Holy fuck,” he hisses from behind, watching as your cunt swallows his cock inch by inch, his girth stretching you unbearably thin, “this pretty little pussy is just eatin’ me alive.”

You whine, and Quartich softly palms your ass as he spreads your thighs further apart, urging your body to take him. “You’re huge. Na’vi shouldn’t mate with humans, Colonel—“

“—‘S too late now. I’ve already chosen you.”

It's like he's splitting you in half. His thrusts are slow, sloppy, edging you closer and closer to being utterly destroyed. There's something rhythmic about his movements, something soothing, his palm on your ass cool.

Your feverish, fuzzy mind blocks out any forms of rationality as you let him take you. Your cunt flutters around his cock as his tip brushes against your cervix, impossibly hard; again and again and again.

"God, this hurts," you mumble, shuddering as Quaritch's fingers dart downwards to toy with your puffy, sensitive clit, his digits gliding through your sticky folds, "too big."

Feral, like an animal, Quaritch's nose nuzzles against your wrist, his teeth sinking into the skin softly. He bites you; draws blood, paints his tongue crimson with the metallic taste of your wound. You pull, tug away from him, your cunt throbbing, the heat of the room too much.

Suffocating, no, drowning in the insatiable warmth, you buck against him. It hurts — he hurts, and he mouths you again, nuzzling his teeth into your wrist, insatiably biting you, marking you; palming at your ass like it belongs to him.

"So tight," Quaritch grunts, "so small," his hands come around to your stomach, palming the plump flesh softly, "bet you'd love to be nice and round, pumped fill with my babies? Have a little half-breed?"

You let out a quiet whimper. Your skin itches, burns with desire, and with each sluggish roll of his hips, your head lulls.

"Answer me when I'm talkin' to you," he says, his teeth biting down on your wrist. Your head angles back so you can see him; and he looks so animalistic; so delicious, and you nod your head weakly.

"Yeah," you choke out, "I want a little half-breed."

Bent almost in half, skin glistening with sweat and spit, you let Quaritch take you. The white, milky excrement from the plant is still pooled on the floor, and your eyes focus on the way it drips from each stem, trying to calm your racing heart.

"I knew you would," he follows up, "you little fuckin' freak. Wonder how many of your little scientist friends would feel betrayed, knowin' you're bein' mated by a fuckin' recom."

Your eyes tilt backwards slightly. His balls slap lewdly against your ass, and warmth trickles into your lower tummy as he grips your flesh slightly. He's palming you, imagining your stomach more curvy and round; imagining you waddling around, pumped fill of his seed. God, you'd look so fucking hot, and he's not sure if it's just the Aphrodisiac making him feral anymore.

"Please," your voice wavers, "I'm gonna—"

"—Cum for me, darlin'," he says, his tongue rolling against the marks he's left peppered on your wrist, "squeeze me nice an' tight, let me fill this pretty little pussy up."

"Oh, god, please," you cry out as his hips roll into yours; his body beginning to chase his own high.

The sheer size of him is overwhelming. With each thrust, you can feel your tummy bulge — he can almost stroke himself through your navel, and he gives your plump flesh a soft squeeze as he continues to thrust into you. Green eyes darting towards the area in which your body links, Quaritch let out a guttural, animalistic growl as he notes the way a ring of arousal paints his stripey, blue cock white, his grip on your body tightening.

Disoriented and confused, fuzzy with lust, your body begins to tremble. Your thighs burn, unable to hold yourself up anymore, and your cunt flutters and squeezes his cock; desperate to feel him closer than he already is, although it's practically impossible.

"That's it," he praises, "come undone for me, my fuckin' — fuckin' cockdrunk cumslut," he grits his teeth, swatting your ass, "this perfect fuckin' pussy is going to be dripping with my seed."

Choked, stuttered moans crawl out of your throat, slipping past your lips in a beautiful melody as you come undone. Your body feels spent, worn, used; beautifully broken, limp as Quaritch continues to fuck into you — the Colonel, your Colonel. Your eyes gloss over, still focusing on the milky liquid pooled on the floor, your breathy shaky as your juices coat his cock, wetting his cock.

"Ow," you whine, "it's sore."

"I'm right behind you," he forces out, his eyes screwing shut as he lets himself go.

Your walls flutter around him as he cums, the aftershock of your orgasm pulsing throughout your body.

Something weird happens, though — the warmth blooms within you as opposed to dulling, a painful throbbing sensation pulsing in-between your legs. You pull, press against Quaritch's body, but his teeth have sunk into your wrist, his hands holding you against him, keeping you trapped.

"You've — you've knotted me," you breathe, bewildered, "you've knotted me."

His hot breath fans your ears, his grip on you tightening as he pulls you closer. "I know," he grunts, his cock still insatiably hard inside of you, "I'm gonna make sure I give you that god-damned half-breed baby you want."

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mechformers · 1 year

Text

Ma Miles - Ch. 16

6.7k words

Chapter Warning: Wound dressing, mention of bruised bones/ribs, cuts, talking about Neteyam being shot.

I um... I can't believe we've reached 70k lol What happened? XD Had anyone told me that I would ever write a slow burn this slow, I would have never believed them. Yet... here I am. Thanks a lot, Slang! To everyone who has read, is reading, or is going to read, thank you, thank you, thank you so much!! <3 As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts!!

(If you want to be tagged with the updated chapters, please leave your @ myusername in the comments! )

Previous chapter | Masterpost | Chapter 17

The sound that leaves you when the people part for the small boy running towards you could only be described as heartwrenching, even to your own ears, Spider’s bruised frame sprints forward with only one goal in mind as you fall to your knees in the wet, warm sand. You just manage to open your arms before he’s wrapped around you, his small but strong arms holding onto you for dear life as you press your face into the crook of his neck, sobbing openly. Rocking the both of you slowly, you breathe him in, letting your hand cup the back of his messy head while you press his smaller body to your frame. There’s a small voice in the back of your mind that tells you to ease up, to let his smaller body get space to breathe, but in your desperation, you’re unable to let go of him.

“Son?” Distantly, you recognize the wounded, high-pitched voice of Jake Sully, but it’s not before you lift your head to take a deep breath that you notice that the Toruk Makto has rushed past the Olo’eyktan to hold his own son. The sound of the strong man’s quiet sobs pierces something deep within you and you can only imagine the relief of seeing your child alive when you have believed him to be dead.

He’s whispering thanks and blessings to the Great Mother when Neytiri comes rushing through the crowd, no doubt reacting to her mate’s distressed sounds. It doesn’t take long for her own shrieks of pain and disbelief to come forth as she stumbles on unsteady legs toward her son and mate. With her hand outstretched, Jake Sully takes it, pulling her into the hug he’s refusing to end with their son. Neteyam’s grunt when his mother collides with them is painful, but the reunion goes on, the young man refusing to let go of his parents. Smiling through your tears, you watch as the rest of the children join them, happy cries and grabby hands creating a tight bubble around Neteyam. It’s heartwarming to see the young man be cuddled and loved like this.

Stroking Spider’s head, you close your eyes as you feel his small but fierce heart pounding away against your chest. Your son has stopped crying, his small sniffles sounding every now and then as he clings to you. His cheek is resting against your collarbone, his mask digging in painfully, but you couldn’t care less. Your son was finally here with you, his small body clinging to you as you held him. You can’t imagine the pain and hurt he’s been through the past few weeks, or how scared he must have been. Kissing his messy head, you whisper small thank you’s as you get to your feet, still holding him close.

“You saved him,” Jake Sully mumbles, his sharp eyes piercing into yours from your short distance, reaching a hand out for you to join them.

Slowly, you approach your old Olo’eykatan with Spider in your arms, only to be pulled into the hug when his strong hand wraps around your elbow. His forehead presses firmly against yours as he holds you close, whispers of thanks leaving his lips as he breathes deeply. Neytiri repeats the motion when her mate eventually lets up, her eyes piercing into yours as she thanks you, the motion foreign to you.

“Mo’at was the one who saved him,” You whisper back, hearing Jake Sully’s soft intake of air as his head leaves the tight bubble you’ve all created, “I just found him,”

Neytiri lifts her head too and it’s only then that she sees her mother standing with the Olo’eyktan. Mo’at steps forward when another wounded sound leaves Neytiri and you watch as the older woman crumbles in her mother’s arms when she embraces her daughter. At that moment your heart bleeds for Neytiri and what she’s been through. You can only imagine the pain and sorrow she must have experienced while believing her son dead, only to be able to embrace his beating heart once more. To be able to be comforted by her mother and for the Tsahìk to embrace her the way she now does…

“Y/n had already saved Neteyam by the time they reached the Omatikaya clan, all I could do was help him heal faster” Mo’at hums to her daughter and Neytiri’s head whips around to stare at you again. Holding her mother’s hand, she reaches for yours with the other, pressing your hand to her chest.

“Thank you, sister,” Neytiri’s words are spoken with such vulnerability, with such gratitude that it takes you by surprise.

“It was the least I could do after your family protected my son,” You squeeze her shoulder where she still holds your hand to her chest, smiling warmly up at her.

Neytiri is unable to meet your eyes, her eyes instead focused on the blond mop of hair that is your son in your arms, but you don’t think much of it. It’s been a stressful time for both of you and in all honesty, you’re beyond exhausted. When Neytiri lets go of your hand, you turn back to the Metkayina Olo’eyktan, greeting him properly this time whilst still holding onto Spider, refusing to let your son go.

“I come seeking your help. My companion is hurt and he…-” You start slowly only for the Olo’eyktan to hold up his hand for you to stop.

“Your Tsahìk has already explained your situation,” He starts, only for Jake Sully to step up to him.

“She is Omatikaya, Tonowari. I will take full responsibility if you can offer her companion help,” He declares and for a split second, your heart soars with pride and gratitude for your old Olo’eyktan.

“Toruk Makto,” You say politely, your ears bent close to your skull as you wrap your tail around your thigh, the pose as submissive as you can manage with Spider still in your arms, “You will not approve of who he is,”

And with that, you put Spider down in the sand as you walk over to Hawnu. The demon’s head is resting on the other side of Hawnu’s back, blissfully hidden, and with the new tweng and cloak, he doesn’t immediately stand out unless anyone cared to look at his feet or hands. Taking hold of the demon’s short hair, you take a deep breath before lifting his head up for your Toruk Makto to see.

Immediately, there’s an outcry from the Olo’eyktan and Neytiri, and then from behind, the Metkayina Tsahìk hisses furiously as she comes up to stand beside her mate. Your eyes, however, are only trained on Neytiri as she pulls her blade and comes running towards you - or rather, towards the demon. Flipping Spider onto your back, you step between Neytiri and the demon, hissing ferociously at her as you pull your own blade out to protect your own small family.

“Step aside, sister,” Neytiri sneers, her anger, and fury petrifying as it’s directed at you.

“No,” You try to sound brave, but your voice comes out unsteady and small as it leaves your lips, your fear so obvious to everyone around you.

“He drowned,” Jake Sully says, his face crumbling in a frown as he pulls Neytiri back by her shoulder. “I drowned him,”

“I couldn’t just leave him, Sir,” Spider speaks up from your back and just like that, your fear disappears, replaced by a resolve so strong even the Great Mother couldn’t take it away from you.

“You couldn’t just… -” Jake Sully starts but stops abruptly, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezes his eyes shut.

“Lo’ak and I were looking for you when the ship went down and I found him on the bottom of the sea just lying there,” Spider continues, his voice desperate, “He’s my father, Sir,”

Closing your eyes, you let your mind go through every possibility before you make up your mind. Hawnu was close by, the demon already on his back if you needed a quick escape. Opening your eyes again, you stare directly into Jake Sully’s eyes as you sheath your blade.

“You were once a demon from the skies, now; you are Toruk Makto, the leader of our people, a child of Eywa,” You present so forcefully that his ears slick back against his skull while his tail whips behind him. The challenge is clear as day in Jake Sully’s eyes, but he still looked conflicted.

“It’s not up to me to decide anymore, Y/n,” He mumbles as he steps aside.

“Ma Jake, what are you saying?” Neytiri turns to him, her rage almost brimming over as she can’t believe what she’s hearing.

“Olo’eyktan of the Metkayina clans, I come to you seeking help. Will you help me?” You direct your question to the leader, not knowing if you want him to agree or not. You watch as the Olo’eyktan looks down at his own furious mate, at Neytiri’s anger, and then at Jake, his face just as conflicted as your heart.

“I will not leave his side,” Jake Sully offers, making Neytiri cry out in outer outrage at her mate’s words.

“Then we will offer help,” The Olo’eyktan says reluctantly before turning to send some of his men ahead.

Gently, you let Spider down from your back, watching as he steps up to greet Hawnu before moving over to Cupcake, the female ikran greeting him excitedly with small welcoming chirps as she nudges her head against his body. Stepping closer to Hawnu, you take a deep breath as you prepare to haul the demon’s huge mass over your shoulders again, only for Jake Sully to move closer with outstretched arms, intending to help you.

But when you whip around and hiss at him, he steps back, holding his hands up, much in the same manner that the demon does. You’re still not sure what the motion means, but you figure it has something to do with meaning no harm. Although you would have liked to get help with carrying the demon, you don’t trust your old Olo’eyktan not to attempt to kill him again. Not after what he had just admitted to doing.

“She is strong, Jakesully,” Mo’at steps forward, resting her hand on his shoulder, “She will need no help with the demon,”

You don’t understand what the Tsahìk means by that but as the demon’s heavy weight slides over Hawnu’s back to fully rest on you, you couldn’t care less as you try to keep upright. You follow the Olo’eyktan to a marui pod on the outskirts of the village, the sea surrounding all but one side of it. Only one way in, only one way out, you think as you walk on tired legs. Spier holds your tail as he follows closely behind you, not yet ready to let go of you. Behind him, Jake Sully and Neteyam follow you, much to Neytiri’s great displeasure. You have a growing suspicion that this isn’t the Tsahìk’s marui pod at all.

It’s a suspicion that is confirmed when you enter the marui pod. To your surprise, the people the Olo’eyktan sent away are waiting for you inside, their shoulders squared as they stare at the demon on your shoulders. In the middle of the pod, a woven mat and supplies for the Tsahìk are set up, yet, the Tsahìk herself, is missing.

On wobbly legs, you crumble to your knees as you try your best not to drop the demon. Spider is still holding your tail, his grip harder as he refuses to let go when you bend down, trying your best to gently slide the demon off of you. It doesn’t work. It never has. With a hard thud, the demon’s bottom hits the mat before the rest of his body follows, much like an overripe banana fruit falling to the ground. Deep within you, you feel sympathy when his head hits the woven mat hard, his kuru trapped between the two.

Stepping back, you pull Spider’s head to your middle, your son still refusing to let go of your tail. His grip on you tightens when the Metkayina Tsahìk enters the pod, Mo’at closely following behind the two. The Tsahìk sneers at the demon until the Olo’eyktan, her mate, squeezes her shoulder while leveling her with a look that seems to pull her anger back from the surface.

“The demon does not deserve the Great Mother’s healing,” The Tsahìk hisses while scowling up at her mate.

“Ronal…” The Olo’eyktan hums, but his voice only seems to anger her more.

“He took our daughter,” The Tsahìk, Ronal, growls, and the news goes straight through your chest, pushing a wounded whine through your lips as you hold back fresh tears.

The demon’s betrayal seemed never-ending the more you learn about the events of that day. It colors him in a light you’ve only heard whispered before, colors him in stories from a war long since passed. This… this being before you is not the man you had come to know, yet, it undeniably still was.

“The demon has been touched by the Great Mother, Tsahìk,” Mo’at hums gently, using Ronal’s title politely, one Tsahìk to another.

“The Great Mother would not touch the likes of him,” Ronal hisses back, her finger pointing shakily at the demon.

“The Great Mother touched me,” Jake Sully offers softly, making all heads snap toward him. “And as Y/n said, I was once a demon from the skies, just like him,”

“The Toruk Makto is right,” Mo’at continued, “Eywa has spoken. As Tsahìk, it is not up to us to challenge her will,”

Ronal hisses furiously as she clutches her head, the battle so obvious to everyone in the room. Mo’at eventually takes pity on the younger Tsahìk when she steps forward, a gentle hand resting on Ronal’s forearm.

“With your permission,” She looks at Ronal and her mate before continuing, “I can offer him healing,”

Immediately, Ronal’s expression softens, gratitude washing through her body. Grabbing Mo’at’s wrist, she breathes a deep sigh before accepting her mate’s open arms, letting herself be hugged by the Olo’eyktan.

“Thank you,” The Olo’eyktan offers, his smile genuine and soft. “I will make sure that you have everything you need,”

“I will join you to Ronal’s marui to collect what I need before returning,” Mo’at hums, inclining her head minutely in appreciation.

Watching Mo’at disappear with the Tsahìk and Olo’eyktan, you let your breath out before sitting down, crossing your legs before you as you make room for Spider to sit. Jake Sully bends down to sit beside you, Neteyam tightly nestled between his own thighs as he holds his son tightly to his chest.

“How is he?” Jake Sully eventually asks as the silence stretches on.

“The demon will live,” You start, your voice unsteady, “Maybe,”

“What happened when you left?” Your old Olo’eyktan continues, his voice gentle as he stares at you.

Turning your head to actually look at him, noticing how he’s looking at you with genuine worry. His ears have rotated toward you, open and rounded, while his tail slaps lazily behind him, the soft thumping soothing as it hits the woven ground of the marui pod. It reminds you of the shame he had displayed when he had come to you with the news of Spider being taken, and just like that, your disappointment in him returns.

“Why do you care?” You huff back at him as you narrow your eyes, your hand cupping the back of Spider’s head, pressing him closer to your chest.

“Ouch… I guess I deserved that one,” Jake Sully winces, his ears pinning down flat against his skull.

The silence stretches between you while you hold your sons against your bodies, reveling in the way their hearts beat against your chests, in the way their lungs push air through them before gently letting them out. Spider and Neteyam are fast asleep where they’re held against your bigger bodies, your son’s exhausted with being strong and just like that, while looking down at them, the two of you seem to come to the same realization.

Although they were both young adults, they were still children, burdened with fighting the horrors of a war they should have never been involved in, to begin with. Although they were old enough to find mates, to go off on their own and be their own master, they were still too young to have experienced everything that they had. Holding Spider closer, you bend your head back as you feel guilt and sorrow wash through you. They had both been through a lot, had been brave and fearsome for their younger siblings and friends, for their parents. You recognized that it would take time for them to heal, time for them to work through their trauma, and to learn how to be children again before they would be able to confidently stand on their own two legs as adults.

“I went to Hell’s Gate, only to find it deserted, so I found the gates of Bridgehead City and demanded to see Colonel Miles Quaritch,” You eventually offer, a peace offering to a man who’s treated your people well.

“You did what?” Jake Sully’s head snaps to the side to stare at you so fast, you can almost hear the pain in his neck.

“They brought me to one of their bright, cold rooms with the see-through metal doors. I don’t know how long it took, but eventually, they brought Spider to me, unharmed. A deal was made to teach the recom unit the Na’vi way, to teach them to accept Eywa in their hearts and souls,” You continue quietly, noting how Jake Sully hangs on every word you say.

“And they did,” You followed, turning your head to look back at the Toruk Makto, “They learned to accept Eywa in their hearts and in their souls.”

The silence stretches once more as you let the words sink in. Jake Sully remains silent, his eyebrows furrowed in deep thought as his mind mulls over what you have just said. To your surprise, he lets you collect yourself, lets you continue with your story without uttering a single word.

“They learned to be Na’vi, each one getting to find themselves as if invisible bonds that had held them back fell away. Slowly, they started to appreciate what the Great Mother has created, each one finding their way, discovering what they were good at, and starting to contribute to the unit,” You continue, your voice growing fond as a ghost of a smile crosses your lips. It’s clear to everyone in the marui that you cared deeply for them.

“I don’t know what happened,” You eventually whisper, your heart breaking once more as you avert your eyes, closing them as you bend your head, resting your lips against Spider’s head, breathing him in to calm yourself.

“I’m sorry I allowed them to take Spider in the first place,” Jake Sully offers, his voice so soft you almost think you imagined it, “You have a strong heart Y/n, a strong spirit. It’s no wonder Hawnu chose you all those years ago.”

Mo’at walks in with supplies in her arms then, the Olo’eyktan follows closely behind her with even more stuff in his arms. Your Tsahìk directs the younger Olo’eyktan to - gently - put the supplies down when his first attempt earns him a disapproving tut from her. Mo’at looks over at your sleeping sons before guiding the Olo’eyktan to sit beside Jake Sully before she starts arranging the supplies the way she wants them. To your surprise, the big man does as he’s told with a respectful nod of his head.

“She always this firm?” The Olo’eyktan whispers once he’s crossed his feet beside Jake Sully.

“You should have seen her when I mated Neytiri,” Jake Sully whispers back, a fond grin on his face.

“I can hear you…” Mo’at hums unamused as she raises her eye at the two.

The boyish grins on the two men’s faces have you shaking your head. Seeing this freer side of the Toruk Makto makes something inside of you shift. You realize that he was cast into the role of Olo’eyktan after Tsu’tey’s death in the battle for the Vitraya Ramunong, a role he was never meant to have, yet, one he did his best to fulfill. Being from the stars, from this planet Earth, Jake Sully had done well by your people as a leader, had given everything to protect and defend them.

Watching as Mo’at mixed herbs, pastes, and salves, preparing leaves and cleaning bowls, you let your mind go pleasantly blank for the first time in what felt like forever. The sea beyond the marui pod washes up against the roots, creating a comforting sound, yet, you keep your eyes closed as you hold your sleeping son close. Mo’at distantly hums about bruised bones and ribs, huffing to herself about how such a big man could be this fragile. After a while, the Olo’eyktan gets up to his feet to resume his duties as leader, promising to bring food after the community meal is finished.

By the time you open your eyes again, Mo’at has finished up, the demon draped in a blanket with his wounds and bruised bones dressed. Jake Sully is staring at him, his face conflicted as his mind races silently while he holds onto a still-sleeping Neteyam, the young man so obviously beyond exhausted. Looking down at Spider, the most beautiful brown eyes you have ever seen in your life stares back at you through the mask.

“I see you,” You whisper gently as you cup your son’s face, smiling down at him.

“I see you, mom,” Spider replies, a soft smile of his own as he’s looking up at you.

“Are you well?” The question makes him frown for a moment before he nods his head.

“I’m tired,” He responds before frowning, “Will he be alright?”

“Your father will be just fine,” You smile reassuringly back at him, noting how his face opens with delight when you acknowledge the demon as his father.

“I don’t know what happened, mom,” Spider whispers, his small, strong hands fiddling with your braid, “One moment he was fine and then he just… snapped?”

“It’s alright, Spider. His actions are not your fault,” You comfort him, trying your best to make him understand that he had no part in his father’s doings.

“When he took me, he went after more villages and when no one said anything, he sent the sky people out to hunt the tulkuns, mom,” Spider’s voice is so small it makes your heart break for him.

“Did he kill any of them?” You dread the answer, but you need to know.

“No,” Jake Sully replies instead, “They wounded Ronal’s spirit sister, forcing her and her young calf to the surface, leaving them for me to find. The mother and calf are healing well,”

Closing your eyes, you’re unable to keep back the wounded sound that leaves you. It feels as if your strength is leaving your body as your heart mourns for the man you had come to know. Anger and betrayal filled its place, poisoning what was left of the hope you still held onto.

“He killed the Olo’eyktan’s ilu before burning the Ta'unui village down, but he stopped the sky people from doing what they usually do with the tulkun,” Spider offers and although it should have been a small relief to know that he had ordered the sky people to stop the hunt, it wasn’t.

“He got my attention, which was what he wanted,” Jake Sully huffs humorlessly, “He went after another tulkun later on, and while our kids tried to save it, he managed to take three of them,”

“Lo’ak, Tuk and Tsireya, Ronal and Tonowari’s daughter,” Sider mumbles shamefully, his voice so small.

“It wasn’t your fault, bro,” Neteyam adds sleepily, his voice rough from just having awoken.

“I could have done something, I should have done more…” Spider counters and it makes Neteyam huff humorlessly, much like his father.

“Like what, gotten yourself killed?” The deadpan expression Neteyam sends him makes your son growl. Had he been born with ears and a tail, they would be slicked back and thrashing.

“When Payakan, Lo’ak’s tulkun, crashed the ship, me and Lo’ak went looking for Spider. That guy, Prager, and the bald one came after us with their guns, but the bald one didn’t really shoot at us, his aim was horrible,” Neteyam chuckles, as he grins.

“Wainfleet is a decorated marksman, Neteyam,” Jake Sully offers, but you don’t understand what it means. “If he had wanted you dead, you would have been dead with the first bullet he fired,”

The truth of the words brings a silence over the marui pod as the reality of what could have happened sinks in. Closing your eyes, you hold Spider’s head close to you in an attempt at comforting yourself while you let yourself hope that Lyle had missed with the intent of not hurting the children. At best, it was a hope to comfort yourself as the man was no more.

“What you did was stupid,” Jake Sully grounds out, his voice angry before he sighs and presses Neteyam’s head to his chest again, “But I have never been more proud to call myself your father,”

“That goes for you too, Lo’ak,” The Toruk Makto raises his voice before turning his head to look toward the seaside opening of the marui pod. “Come on out, son,”

Lo’ak’s head pokes out from the brim of the pod, his ears flat against his head as he slowly, but surely steps out from where he had been hiding. The boy’s tail is wrapped tightly against his thigh as he’s unable to lift his head or meet his father’s eyes.

“Are you not angry, Sir?” Lo’ak all but whispers, his ears rotating toward his father before snapping back again.

“Oh, I’m furious,” Jake Sully chuckles as a grin spreads across his face, “And the two of you will be grounded for life, but I have never been more proud in my life,”

Reaching out a hand for his youngest son, Jake Sully waits for his words to sink in and when they do, Lo’ak’s head snaps up with confusion as he stares at his father. Reluctantly, he steps forward, one foot at a time until he’s within his father’s reach. He’s helpless against the hand that grabs his waist and before he knows it, he’s pulled down into his father’s lap.

Smiling at the display before you, you watch as Jake Sully breathes in the scent of his boys as he holds them close, but most of all, you smile at the way Lo’ak curls up against his older brother, his smaller hands holding onto him for dear life. You can’t imagine how he must have felt when he thought he had lost his brother, but by the way silent tears fall from his clenched shut eyes, the loss had been painful in a way he has been unable to express. Neteyam wraps him up as well as he’s able to, holding onto his brother as they rest against their father’s chest. You lose time of how long you sit there, but when Mo’at returns to the marui pod, Neytiri follows behind.

“Ma Jake, you must come home,” She demands, her eyes not leaving the demon on the ground.

“Neytiri, I can’t do that. I promised I wouldn’t leave Quaritch’s side,” Jake Sully sighs, his ears flat against his skull as his arms tighten minutely around his sons.

“The demon should die for what he has done,” Neytiri hisses, uncrossing her arms as she points at him.

It brings an instantly furious growl from your lips as you jump to your feet to stand between them, blocking Neytiri’s path. The Toruk Makto doesn’t get up from the floor, but his deep sigh is enough to bring Neytiri’s focus back on him.

“Neytiri, Eywa has spoken and I have given my word to Tonowari, I will not break it,” He speaks with a patience you do not feel, “My word is all I have left, Neytiri,”

Jake Sully’s vulnerability seems to touch something deep within her as Neytiri growls and whines before clutching her head in frustration, her ears pinning back helplessly. Had you been able to move from your current place, you would have offered the older woman comfort, but as you are, you stand frozen before the demon with your son on your hips, tucked away from Neytiri. In the end, Neytiri lowers her arms as she helplessly looks at you, her eyes wide and filled with fear, and just like that, you can’t blame her.

“Thank you, sister,” Your voice is soft as you speak, your hand reaching out to hold her when she tightly grasps it.

Neytiri is unable to say anything, but her hand clutches yours before the other one comes up to cover your clasped hands. Her eyes have softened when she looks down at you. She looks lost and you understand that feeling. From one mother to another, you share in her desperation to keep your kid safe, to ensure that they have the best paths laid before them. Although he Great Mother had spoken, you did still not know if saving the demon would be the right one for Spider, for the whole of Pandora, but when you close your eyes at night, it is his touch that you feel behind you and just before you open them again, it is his sharp eyes that you see, leaning in to share his love with you.

Releasing your hand, Neytiri walks over to sit beside her mate and sons, her arms wrapping around both Neteyam and Lo’ak as she breathes him in, reveling in his smell. Jake Sully smiles gently before looking behind you where Mo’at works unbothered by her daughter's temper tantrum, seemingly used to it. She has pulled the blanket down from the demon’s chest, revealing the smattering of leaves protecting the pastes and salves beneath. You watch as his chest rises and falls in deep rest, the man far away from his present predicament.

“What happened next,” Jake Sully hums into the silence, his eyes sharp as he stares at nothing in particular, but his voice leaves little doubt about where he’s going with this.

“Spider and I went to look for you, diving around the ship in hopes to find you. We split up and then… Well, I found you,” Lo’ak started, refusing to lift his head from Neteyam’s shoulder.

“And then I found him,” Spider continues, his eyes filling with tears as he clutches harder onto your braid, “At first I left him. He’s caused so much pain, so much suffering and I just… Everyone would be so much better without him, but mom, he’s my father,”

Spider’s tears are falling, fat and clear, as he squeezes his eyes shut, afraid to see your reaction. Shuffling him over to your front, you wrap both arms around him as he sobs. Behind your back, his small hands find your braid again as he clutches onto it tightly, his small legs locking at the small of your back. Shushing him, you cup the back of his head while comforting him, feeling your heart clench painfully at the fact that there is nothing you can do to help him except to just be there for him. Eventually, he lifts his head from your shoulder as he looks up at you, tears hanging from his big brown eyes and you can find no fault in his reasoning.

“I know, I know,” You smile down at him, bending to rest your forehead on his through the mask on his face, “It’s alright,”

When you lift your head from his, even Jake Sully seems like he reluctantly agrees with your son’s compassion. Neytiri’s still scowling, but her features don’t look as hard as they previously had, the older woman obviously struggling to find fault in your son’s reasoning, despite the fact that his father is such a man.

“I got him out of the wreck and up to the surface, pulling him with me to the nearest rock, but by then he was already waking up. He asked me to come with him, mom, but I couldn’t go with him,” Spider continues, his voice growing sadder with each word, “He looked so sad when I left him, mom,”

The confession breaks you, the sudden intake of air into your lungs threatening to choke you. He had asked Spider to come with him, had even looked sad when Spider refused, leaving him behind for Cupcake to deal with. Could there still be something within him that longed for the life he had turned his back on? Turning your head, you stare at the demon, noting how carefree he looks in his sleep. It’s not the peaceful rest he had worn before, but like this, he looks as if there’s still hope for change in him.

“I’ll find a way, Spider,” You whisper into his hair, closing your eyes as you breathe him in to calm yourself, “I swear, I will find a way,”

The promise seemed to calm your son’s nerves as the death grip he had on your kuru eased. You have a need to bounce him in your arms like you did when he was a baby, but you bite your cheek to refrain from doing so, reminding yourself that he was on the cusp of adulthood. Still, the need resided deep within you. Holding him close like this would have to be enough, however. Turning around, you’re surprised to see the Olo’eyktan in the opening, his big frame resting against the marui pod while he waits.

“Olo’eyktan,” You mutter, clumsily greeting him.

“There is no need for this,” His voice rumbles as he steps inside, only to come to a stop before you. “It takes a strong heart and a mighty spirit to stand up to your father like that, little warrior,”

You watch as Jake Sully gets to his feet, his arms still clutching onto both of his sons as he grunts, refusing to put them down, much the same way you are. Behind the strength he projects, you realize that he’s just as afraid of waking up to find that this had just been a dream. Neteyam and Lo’ak look huge in his arms, dwarfing their father where they’re clutching onto him with their long legs. Still, Jake Sully greets the Olo’eyktan with a nod, as if any of this was normal.

“Tonowari,” Jake Sully offers, his sons quickly mumbling a formal greeting as their father spreads his legs to even out their weight.

“You look tired, my friend. Why don’t you take your family home to rest?” The Olo’eyktan, Tonwari, hums, a gentle smile on his face.

“Can’t do that, I promised I wouldn’t leave Quaritch’s side,” Jake Sully grunts back, the weight of his sons obviously heavy in his tired arms.

“The Tsahìk has informed me that the demon will not wake from his sleep any time soon, and although I admire the loyalty to your promise, I would feel better if you took your family home,” Tonowari continues, his big hands cupping both Neteyam and Lo’ak’s heads as his thumb gently caresses them while he waits for the Toruk Makto to decide, “I will have warriors watching the pod,”

That seems to do it. Jake Sully sighs heavily as he bends his head for a short moment before looking up at Tonowari, his eyes brimming with emotions as his smile stretches unevenly.

“Thank you, my friend,” He breathes with relief as Neytiri comes up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder to show her support.

“Tsireya and Ronal have left food in your kelku. Do me a favor and don’t let me see you tomorrow,” Tonowari grins as Jake Sully chuckles with tears in his eyes, the Toruk Mako struggling to keep his emotions at bay.

“Thank you,” Neytiri hums as Jake Sully turns to leave.

“Y/n…” He calls to you, but nothing follows.

No words are needed for what your old Olo’eyktan is trying to say. It’s written so clearly in the way his eyes glow while he looks at you, in the way his arms no doubt burn under the weight of his sons. It’s in his voice, in his breath, and in his presence. And even though she won’t say it, even though she doesn’t agree with saving the demon, it's in Neytiri’s smile, as she looks at you, from the entrance.

“I will place warriors to stand guard on the outside, but your Tsahìk tells me that your companion will not wake any time soon,” Tonowari relays the message to you too, even though you had just heard it.

“There is a sleeping draft in the food I have given him,” Mo’at hums as she finishes redressing the demon’s wounds.

The older woman has been suspiciously quiet since arriving in the village, her eyes observing where her mouth does not. You figure that she knows more than she’s letting on, more than she’s ready to relay - or, perhaps, more than you are ready to know. Taking a deep breath, you nod your head in understanding.

“Tomorrow, I will teach you how to dress his wounds,” It’s spoken with such finality that you take a moment to understand what she’s saying.

You hadn’t expected Mo’at to handle the demon for you, but a small part of you had hoped that you could steer clear of the task. Especially after the whole cave incident. Still, you understood that he was your responsibility and that his healing ultimately would be up to you. Getting a better hold on Spider, you turn back to the big leader in front of you.

“There is food in that basket,” He hums, presenting a huge basket by the entrance that you hadn’t noticed before now. “I will come by tomorrow morning to help you settle in, but nesting materials were brought in earlier. This will be your kelku for as long as you stay here, so make yourselves comfortable,”

“Thank you, Olo’eyktan,” You nod your head, grateful that you were taken care of like this.

“Your son has already settled into the village, although new to the sea. He will be safe even without your eyes on him,” Tonowari smiles gently down at you as he reaches a hand out to grab Spider’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I will see you tomorrow,” Mo’at hums as she passes you, effectively leaving you behind.

With your Tsahìk’s exit, Tonowari leaves the marui pod, your new kelku, while the warriors who had been standing guard on the inside followed their Olo’eyktan. The flap to the kelku is closed behind the last warrior and just like that, you were left alone with your son and his father. Breathing a sigh of relief and dread, you look down at your son, finding his beautiful brown eyes already looking up at you. You didn’t know how to settle the unease you felt deep within you, so when Spider unlocked his legs around your waist, started building your nest to keep you occupied.

By the time the nest was finished and your heads hit the soft materials, your worries had numbed your mind enough for you to feel lifeless. Sleep, luckily, greeted you fairly quickly. Your exhaustion from the past few weeks catching up with you. Pulling Spider closer, you fell into a sleep so deep not even the demon could pull you out of it. Tomorrow would bring new sets of worries, new challenges you weren’t ready to tackle yet, but for now, you let your body relax, knowing that your son was safe where he slept in your arms.

Chapter 15 | Masterpost | Chapter 17

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