I love my mutuals, but I don’t really care for the ‘specialness’ associated with them. want to send me an ask off anon? do it. want to tag me in a post? do it. follower, mutual, or just random person who stumbled across my blog: I crave interaction and literally do not mind.
word count: 940
Pairing: Colonel Miles Quaritch x Female! Wife! Reader Warnings/Tags: None
Chapter Summary: You are called in by your Handler to discuss something important.
[Masterlist] - [Next Chapter]
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Year 2144.
You fidget nervously with the frayed ends of your black dress. Though the mission was a success, and the target eliminated with no casualties, things did not happen as smoothly as they could have. There is no doubt in your mind this will come up in the report. And so close to reviews too.
Fuck.
Never has riding the elevator to the 47th floor felt longer. You let out a frustrated sigh, leaning your forehead against the cool glass. It does little to sooth you. You focus on the expansive vista of the city. Well deep into the night, the city still thrums with life. A sea of neon lights disappears into the horizon. Smog wafts its way through the tops of buildings, laying itself thickly upon the air. The city disappears as the elevator breaches the clouds.
You push yourself from the glass, facing the doors just as the elevator comes to a stop with a resonant ding.
Your face is neutral and your gait confident as you step forth, making your way through the lobby. Miss Halliday, the concierge, stands ready at the front desk.
“Agent Bloodthorn. A pleasure as always.” Her smile brings you a measure of comfort, sweet honeyed voice a balm to your nerves.
“Ophelia, good evening. Busy tonight?” You make light conversation, as you always do. You hand her the blood coin.
“No busier than usual mam.” She opens her mouth to speak further, but pauses, bringing her hand up to her ear. “Ah. The Handler will see you now. Suite 3 if you please.”
You give her a short nod and set a brisk pace to the suite in question. The sounds of your heels as you walk down the marbled hallway reverb far too loudly for your liking. All too quickly do you stand before the deep mahogany door. Your hand reaches for the golden handle and you enter with one fluid motion. There is no need to knock when you are expected.
Soft gold paints itself along the walls and furnishings from the lit fireplace. The floor to ceiling window at the end brings in the natural silver light of the moon. Your Handler stands at the window, hands clasped behind his back, gazing down at the city below; it would be beautiful on a cloudless night.
“Agent! A resounding success tonight my dear!” He turns to you, arms spread in congratulatory fashion.
“T-thank you, Handler!” Your body stiffens involuntarily at the praise, and you nervously pick at your ruined garment.
“Come now, [Y/N]; even after all these years, you’re still at it with the formalities with me. I’ve known you for nearly a decade and a half now child; I practically raised you!” He laughs heartily as he teases you.
“Sorry James, force of habit, haha…”
He invites you to sit in front of him; a singular leather chair awaits you. As you sit, so too does he, a large wooden desk separating you two. Fluidly he retrieves two crystal classes, a bottle of dark liquid you’re sure you won’t like. He pours you half what he pours himself, wordlessly placing the drink closer to you.
You nod in thanks, taking the glass in hand. With practiced movement, you gently swirl the liquid, giving it an experimental sniff. Where you take a small sip, James downs the contents in one gulp. You let out a small cough and return to the glass to the desk.
“On to business then.” He pulls out several manila folders. “Despite what you might think, the reason we called you in Agent, isn’t to discuss your mission tonight.” You sit up straight when he says this, leaning forward as you watch him unwind one folder.
“A new contract came in while you were out. And as far as I’m concerned, you’ll want to be a part of this.”
He places the open folder in front of you. Your eyes skim over the words. Avatar Program. Pandora.
“This is…”
“Correct. Word through the network is your brother Tom’s been scouted by Grace Augustine herself. Should start his training next year.”
You had heard as much. Sweet Tom spoke animatedly about Grace and her work. He was so excited to start training, and even more excited to put his PhDs to work on the alien world.
“As it were, you won’t be needing any physical training. With your natural prowess, we believe you will be able to master piloting your avatar in no time; gain experience on the go as it were.”
“M-my own avatar? You’re giving me one of these?? Don’t they cost, billions, to make?!” You can’t help raising your voice, but you saw the numbers as you skimmed the file. Those were a lot of zeroes.
James smirks at you with a shake of the head.
“Leave the financial worrying to me Agent; that’s not your job.”
You let out a defeated sigh, but acquiesce nonetheless. You read further. The file goes on about the local clan of natives, the Omatikaya. It covers the basics of their governing structure, touching lightly on the culture. It speaks of the relationship formed by Grace, but also their inherent distrust of the RDA.
James places another folder in front of you. There is a polaroid; two blurry figures, one circled in red. You can at least make out that they are natives, both men, presumably.
“Your mission agent, is to eliminate this man.” He taps an index finger on the circled figure.
“Who is that?” You tilt your head as you try to make out the features of the man.
“That my dear, is Eytukan; the Clan Leader.”
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[Masterlist] - [Next Chapter]
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Perm Tag List: [Interactive Post] alternatively reply below if you want to be tagged just for the story @mechformers @wwebaby657 @zomerlovesme @girlnred @raving-raven-writing @meeeeep5 @imavaduh @mxn14 @ashy-kit @manymaria111 @johoevi @iamwh0iam @jadesmyname @lvangel98 @watertastesnice1 @belos-simp69 @wren-solos @pandoragalora @strbyallycow @so-this-is-a-thing-noww
do u ever get a comment on a fic thats just so sweet that ur like Maybe slaving over 24k of fanfiction was worth it for user SprinkleTrashcan2012 to leave a three paragraph comment
Pairing: Human/Recom/Na'vi Miles Quaritch x Female! Na'vi! Sully! Reader Tags/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, rare pairing, possibly dark content, smut, adult themes, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, lust, older man x younger woman, under age reader (16), degradation, nsfw, dubious consent, dirty talk, orgasm, orgasm denial, foul language, choking, p in v - each chapter will have it's own tags
Author's Notes: Am I going crazy? I can't find the masterlist for this fic so I'm making a new one. Seems like it just *POOF* disappeared! Someone let me know if I'm just blind >_>
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
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Tags: @mechformers @wwebaby657 @zomerlovesme @girlnred @raving-raven-writing @meeeeep5 @imavaduh @mxn14 @ashy-kit @manymaria111 @johoevi @iamwh0iam @jadesmyname @lvangel98 @watertastesnice1 @belos-simp69 @wren-solos @pandoragalora @strbyallycow @so-this-is-a-thing-noww
word count: 1529
Pairing: Ao'nung x Omatikayan! Sully! Female! Na'vi Reader Tags: fluff, romance, cute, silly, oneshot Author's note: A quick oneshot dedicated to @royallaufeyson! Saw their post asking for this pairing fluff and thought I'd give it a go. Hopefully it's too your liking :)
Ao’nung considers himself many great things; strong, skilled hunter, a remarkable swimmer. But jealous? No, never. Why would he be jealous? And of that stupid ikran? Perish the thought. What’s there to be jealous about really? Nothing, that’s what!
Yet here he finds you, his darling Omatikayan future mate, tending to your ikran, instead of meeting up with him like you were supposed to an hour ago.
You don’t even hear his approach, and that in itself stirs an uncomfortable feeling in his gut. You have your back to him, standing before your own ikran. You’re rubbing his neck and humming soothing words as he rests his head on your shoulder. Naturally, the accursed beast is the first to spot his approach.
Suddenly his head is off your shoulders and he hisses with a faux threat, his attention behind you.
“Hoan?” You look up at your ikran, confused by his sudden change in attitude. Noticing his gaze is fixated on something behind you, angry at something intruding on your alone time, you turn around to see what the fuss is about.
A wide grin splits your face, recognizing the would-be intruder as your beloved future mate.
“Ao’nung!” His name slips through your lips like siren song, turning your whole lithe form to him and jog to meet his approach halfway. No matter how many times he sees you, once again is he left awestruck by your visage. As you run to him, those untamed locks flowing freely behind you, your form is caught in the last rays of sunlight before eclipse; a golden luster leaving kisses upon your skin.
And he melts. Ready is he to prostrate himself before such beauty. He catches you in his strong arms with little effort, you are so light and lithe coming from the forest.
Your arms instinctually wrap around his neck and you kiss him without hesitation. A short quick peck and you pull away to look down into his eyes, pale blue meeting gold.
“Hi,” you say and he returns your smile as he places you on your feet once more. You don’t untangle your arms around his neck. His hands are on hips, holding you close.
“Hi yourself,” he says cheekily, placing a small kiss on your forehead. “Oel ngati kameie.”
“Oel ngati kameie,” you say back with a smile.
Hoan makes an annoyed huff behind you, clacking his jaw a few times. You turn to look at him, ears perked up.
“Hoan, what’s gotten into you recently?” Your attention is immediately pulled to your ikran, instantly removing your arms from Ao’nung’s neck as you make your way back to the creature in question. You don’t see the slight frown that forms on your beloved’s face as he watches you walk away. But your hand catches his, and without looking back, you pull him along with you. A roll of the eyes, ‘of course this thing needs you right this very moment’ he laments to himself.
“Sweet boy, what’s got you huffing and chuffing?” As you ask this you let go of Ao’nung’s, placing both hands on either side of Hoan’s face. “Are you still hungry?” you look to the side and see the fish portions remain untouched.
“Hmm…He must grow tired of the same meal. Poor thing must miss yerik and talioang meat.” You lament as you rub his neck soothingly. He makes a light trilling noise as you do. “Maybe you prefer some soft-shell meat, yes? I think I saw some in a pool nearby. Ao’nung, can you keep an eye on him? I’ll be right back!”
“Well I—” and before he can even protest, you’ve sprinted off, his arm outstretched to your retreating form. After a beat he drops his arm back to his side and sighs deeply. An awkward silence permeates the air. He can feel Hoan staring at the back of his head. Probably plotting his demise. He turns then, fixing a scowl at the creature, though mindful not to make direct eye contact.
“There’s probably nothing wrong with you, is there?” he asks, as if the beast would understand him perfectly. Hoan blinks, tilting his head from side to side as if confused, cawing at him.
“Oh don’t you play innocent with me. You kept her here on purpose didn’t you? Think you’re real smart hogging all her attention.”
Hoan doesn’t give away any indication he understood anything directed at him. Instead he busies himself cleaning the inner parts of his wing; utterly ignoring Ao’nung it seems.
The boy in question shakes his head and rolls his eyes. Turning around to once again face the direction you went.
“Skxáwng ikran…” he mutters to himself.
SMACK!
His hand flies to the back of his head, something having hit him. He turns around and looks down, finding a portion of sand and drool covered fish at his heals. He frowns and looks up Hoan, the offending creature has his head buried in his other wing.
Ao’nung eyes him up and down, taking a few steps back before turning around once more. Where the heck were you?
SMACK!
“Hey!” He turns around angrily and again he finds fish at his heels while Hoan is preening himself; the picture of innocence. “You better stop that or else!” A fool Ao’nung is then, to turn his back once more, because as soon as he does—
SMACK!
This time when he turns around, Hoan is instead looking right at him. The offending creature honks at him rhythmically, and to the annoyed Ao’nung, that almost sounds a damn laugh. Without a second thought, he picks up the nearest piece of fish and lobs it at Hoan’s head. He hits him square in the face, the fish leaving a sandy red kiss to his temple.
Were it possible, Ao’nung thinks the face Hoan’s giving him right now would be that of the utter most offence anyone has ever taken in the history of the forever. He picks up another piece and throws it Ao’nung, hitting him in the chest and leaving the same gross smelly mark.
“So you have chosen war.” Ao’nung states, a war cry leaves his lips and he grabs the pieces near him into his arms, throwing them at Hoan.
The ikran responses immediately, a loud hiss and raw at Ao’nung, this time he grabs as many pieces in his mouth as he can, throwing them haphazardly at his opponent, some missing him completely.
The two of them go at it for a while, the pieces becoming nearly unrecognizable as time passes. All the while, Ao’nung laughs, what a silly thing he finds himself doing, having a, fish war, with your ikran. The beast itself making all manner of caws, bellows, yips, snarls and chirps.
So engrossed are the two of them that they naturally do not here your approach until it is too late.
“By the Great Mother, what is going on here???”
Immediately they both stop, dead still are they, like two naughty children being caught red handed. They turn to you then, you standing off to the side, a small basket balanced on your hips, filled with various molluscs.
Ao’nung drops the pieces he’s holding, straightening up and clearing his throat.
“Well you see, [Y/N], we were just—” another piece hits him in the side of the head. He turns and frowns at Hoan, who has his head facing the other way, turned to the sky as if the most interesting thing he’s ever seen is there right now.
“Pffft….Pffthahahahaha!” A melodious laugh bursts forth from you, and Ao’nung turns to you alarmed; a light blue dust paints itself up his neck and across his cheeks. “The two of you are ridiculous! Look at you! Covered in sand and fish blood.” You shake your head, smile never wavering. You set the basket beside Hoan, knowing you wouldn’t have to shuck the creatures yourself. It will be good for him to use his wing claws to pry them open.
“Silly boy, Hoan!” You tease and make tsaheylu. “Make sure you wash yourself thoroughly before you return to the others. Else Bob will never let you forget,” you say out loud for Ao’nung’s benefit before disconnecting and approaching said boy.
He huffs at you and turns away.
There is a cheeky smile on your face as you look up at him, arms behind your back.
“So…”
“So…?”
“Having fun without me?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about honestly.”
You shake your head at his antics and grab his hand.
“Come, let’s get you cleaned up in the heated pools,” you say and walk off, pulling him behind you by your joint hands.
You turn to look at him behind you, not slowing your pace as you do.
“And Ao’nung?”
“Yes?”
“Jealousy? You wear it well yawne,” you tease him, letting the word roll of your tongue, dripping in liquid gold. You can’t help but giggle when you see the shocked look on his face, the darkening of his skin renewed tenfold. He turns his face elsewhere.
“Sh—shut up…”
You laugh once again facing forward and squeeze his hand.
He smiles contently, and gently squeezes back.
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Oel ngati kameie - I see you
yerik - the hexapede
talioang - the sturmbeest
skxáwng - stupid/moron/idiot
yawne - my love
God DAYUM
Miles Quaritch x female recombinant reader
Words: 3.9k
Summary: The cute newbie of his squad enjoys late night activities way too much, keeping Miles up every single night since she moved into the quarters next to his room.
Warnings: explicit smut, masturbation, mutual masturbation, p in v, doggy, accidental voyeurism, secret crush, teasing, creampie, age difference, alien biology, Z-dog being a subtle wingman lol, degradation & praise kink, just quaritch being quaritch (reader calls him Sir)
Of course they had warned him about this. The heightened senses and all that. Miles knew about the Na‘vi’s keen sense of smell, their incredible eye sight and the distinctive hearing, even before he became one of them. Well, sort of.
What he didn’t expect though, was how incredibly good his sense actually were now.
It was a blessing and a curse.
A blessing mostly because it gave him an advantage, made him better than the human soldiers, a better version of his own past self. And finally he was eye level with his sworn enemy. But as soon as he was back in bridgehead city, back at the base and in his private quarters, it was curse. Miles could handle his new body and all the changes that came with it, there was no doubt in that. But out of all things, it was his distinctive hearing that quite literally made his life hell. Well, not his whole life but specifically his nights.
To his right, there was Lyle‘s room. The Corporal had always been a heavy sleeper, snoring louder than the roar of a Thanator. It was annoying, but bearable, even with his heightened senses. To his right, however, there was your room.
Miles didn’t know you when you were a human, he had only frequently met you when you had joined his team. You were a cute thing, young and eager and maybe a little too pretty to be a recom soldier. You looked more like you belonged to the nerds working in the bio labs, always walking around with that bright smile and sunshine attitude. And you definitely got on his nerves more than he would like to admit. More so, when Ardmore made you move in to the room right next to his. Now his nights were spent mostly sleepless, forced to listen to the little night owl he had as his new neighbor. All thanks to the Na‘vi and their damn distinctive hearing.
On some nights, it felt like there weren’t any walls at all. He could hear you loud and clear, like you were standing right here in his room as you did your little bedtime routine, several hours after you were supposed to go to bed.
Quaritch could hear how you turned on the shower, the water running against the tiled wall and down the drain for a good ten minutes until he heard you step under the spray. You probably loved a good, hot shower, he noticed right away in the first night. From then on, with nothing better to do than to lay there and listen to the newbie showering, Miles often found himself imagining you under the spray of water.
He just couldn’t help it. His mind almost instantly presented him with a clear picture of your naked body, imagining you all wet and soapy, with your hands running over your curves. Fuck, he could smell your damn shampoo all the way from here. Fucking vanilla, he scoffed, as his hands found the waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down enough to free his now hard cock. He would make you run an extra mile around the campus tomorrow, just for that.
It’s not often that he had some alone time on this damn planet. Better use his precious time wisely if he couldn’t sleep anyway…
At least he had his private quarters, unlike most of his subordinates who either had to keep it in their pants or be stealthy about it. Or didn’t care what others might think of their nightly jerkoff session.
Miles was so hard, his cock was throbbing painfully in his palm as he begins to move his hand up and down, stroking lazily to the thought of you. Faintly, he remembers overhearing a conversation between you and Z-dog from a couple of days ago. It was after a mission, when she had asked how you always smelled so nice and what you used to keep your skin so soft. Their new bodies required more care than what they were used to when they were all still human, so you happily recommended her some oil that you frequently used. Of course you went into full detail, talking about how she had to use a generous amount and make sure to rub it into her skin and fucking great, now he was imagining you oiling yourself up like a damn snack.
Miles was gritting his teeth as he stroked over his shaft, squeezing the blue tip of his cock just right, forcing the very first droplets of pre-cum to form and spill over his knuckles. While he enjoyed fast-pace excitement every so often, it was nice to take his time and let all the pleasure course through him.
Out of all his years of living, he had never wanted to bend a woman over so bad. It was an unfamiliar feeling, something that hadn’t plagued his usually cool and composed mind in such a long time. You just looked so inviting, so good, so kissable, suckable, so fuckable. Miles wanted to bend you, eat you and fuck you in so many different ways, he wanted to make you cry. He wanted to see tears trickle down that beautiful face of yours, wanted to see those plumb lips slick with spit and his cum. And fuck, did he wanted to see that ass bounce on him. You were almost as sweet as your delicious ass looked. Quaritch wasn’t the type to stare, he barely paid you any attention at all, truth be told. But god damn, was it hard not to crane his neck to get a glimpse of that ass whenever you walked by.
On some nights, his perverted thoughts would come to an end once you mercifully decided to end your twenty minute long hot shower and went to bed. On other nights however, you didn’t went straight to bed. Well, to bed yes but… not to sleep. Those nights were the very reason Miles was cursing your name so venomently while wrapping his fist tightly around his cock.
Those nights, where you would settle down with the faint creak of your bed and where he could pinpoint the exact moment your breathing increased. He could see it clear as day in his minds eye, how you laid down and spread those pretty legs, ran your soft hands down over your stomach until they disappeared between your thighs. Oh, how he would love to bite into the soft of your inner thighs, leave his marks there, before he would taste you. Miles frequently imagined the flavor of your pussy and he could almost taste it on his tongue every time. He bets you’re so sweet– all dripping wet, smelling like that damn vanilla stuff and so fucking delicious.
The recom‘s ears twitched as they picked up the sounds of your tender fingers entering your slick cunt. God, what he would give to replace them with his cock. Miles tried to stroke his length in the same rhythm of those obscene squelching sounds coming from the room next door. But those sweet moans and heavy pants that left your lips made it very difficult for him to not fuck his fist like a madman.
There’s a tightness, a warmth that swells inside him and it gets even worse when he hears you shift around on your bed, clearly turning to your side to reach for something.
By now, he already knew the familiar sound of your nightstand drawer getting pulled open. It was a sound that would probably wake him up from the deepest slumber and instantly give him a boner. Like some sort of muscle memory or whatever. And that even though he absolutely hated when you used your toys. And you seemingly had a various amount of them. Going by the way you were moaning and whimpering on some nights, they had different sizes too. Oh you would definitely be able to take all of him, if he were ever going to stuff that needy little hole of yours.
But the worst of all was whatever toy you owned that was buzzing so fucking loud. He cursed it. Were you really that desperate that you needed a vibrator too? It was almost impossible to hear your sweet moans, thanks to that damn thing.
If you needed something to fill you up so bad, why didn’t you just ask? There were like… ten guys in his squad that would gladly bend you over the next best surface, going by the way they all looked at you and tried their absolute most to sweet talk their way into your pants. Why the fuck were you rejecting them, if you needed to get laid so bad?
Nevertheless, Miles thanked god you didn’t settle for that vibrator today. Whatever you had chosen instead though, must’ve been big enough for you to whine so loud, even a regular without distinctive hearing could’ve heard that.
Quaritch‘s imagination provides him with images of you, laying on your bed and with your legs spread wide while you thrust the toy into you. Or would you kneel? Would you hover over it and slowly sink down, forcing the silicon cock to stretch you out to the absolute most? Maybe you were the type of girl that would enjoy a little pain, maybe you would rush it because you’re so desperate. You would just sit down and take it all at once, because you love the sting that the sudden stretch brings. He imagines how you bounce on that fake cock, humping like a little bunny in heat and he groans through clenched teeth, wishing it was him instead.
Speeding up his movements, Miles hips were already bucking up to fuck into his fist, your moans and whimpers only egging him on more. Shit, he was close. It had been so long since he'd let himself have a satisfying release, but this would have to do. He would end up shooting his cum into his fist, instead of a wet little pussy that would actually satisfy his needs. Then he would clean himself and he would try to rest for at least a few more hours, until he had to get up for his squad’s morning workout. And he would look at you– if he would even look at you, no, he would most definitely ignore you just like any other day, acting like none of this has ever happened. Like he wasn’t daydreaming about fucking you stupid every second of the day.
This was how it was supposed to go. How it always went.
Just not today, though.
At first, Miles thought that his mind was playing tricks on him. That it was just his brain adding further stimulation to the imaginary scenario in his head, in favor of helping him cum. But then he heard it again.
A soft, high-pitched and keening whine of his name. His damn name.
"Miles– oh god Miles, fuck yes", you were moaning, chanting his name like a prayer. Like you were begging for him to come over and help you out.
Miles head perked at the sound, so audible even through the wall that separated your rooms. And then it was like his body moved without his brain telling him to. Pulling his boxers back up and rearranging himself, he made his way over to the room next door.
It took a whole five minutes after knocking that you finally opened. The door creaked open just a few inches, revealing your delicate frame to him. The room behind you was almost dark, the only source of light was coming from the dim hallway. Quaritch couldn’t hide the smug grin that formed on his face by the sight of you, dressed in nothing but an oversized shirt that had the RDAs logo printed on it, your tail nervously swaying behind your back. And you weren’t wearing a bra, by the looks of it. What a delightful sight for his hungry eyes.
When you realize that it’s him, your eyebrows rise in surprise and you open the door just a little wider. "C-Colonel, Sir, what— it’s the middle of the night, what are you doing here?"
Miles takes a step closer to you and your eyes widen. "Next time you need a hand, kid", he takes another step, "just ask me."
He steps closer and closer, until you’re left with no choice but to let him in. Your eyes are wide and your cheeks have turned into dark blush of purple, as you look at him. He then closes the door behind your back and with the way he’s standing, he’s basically towering over you.
"Heard you moaning my name like a little bitch in heat", he then tells you grinning and you swallow thickly, "was wondering when you’d finally ask for help."
With that, he spins you around, your hands flat against the cool metal door, before he positions himself behind you. You don’t resist when he kicks your legs apart and rides your shirt up, enough to expose your lower half to him.
"Hm, would you look at that", he hums, "No panties, huh?"
"I- I had to hurry to open the door, sir", you try to explain but the Colonel only chuckles. You feel his hands, caressing the back of your thighs and the curve of your bottom. He kneads the plump cheeks of you ass in his big hands, his head tilted enough to get a glimpse of your pussy when he spreads your cheeks. Your lips and inner thighs are covered in your arousal, glistening in the dim room and he can’t help but lick his lips at the sight.
"Ah right. And what were you doing before that?"
Miles pulls his boxer briefs down enough to free his hard length before he lines himself up, the head of his hard cock rubbing along your slit, coating himself in your slickness. He hears you gasp and your head hangs low between your arms, support yourself on the door. He gives you a minute to relish in the feeling of his cock sliding between your wet folds before he clicks his tongue, "Answer me when I’m talking to you."
You can’t help yourself. His words have your pussy clenching around nothing and you are so desperate to finally get what you’ve been wishing and praying for, you’re left with no choice but to respond to his teasing, "I‘m– I was… I was fingering myself." Your voice is barely above a whisper, but you know he’s heard you loud and clear.
"Just your fingers?", he scoffs, "Didn’t sound like it was just your fingers. Don’t lie to me, sweetheart."
His hands find purchase on your hips, pulling you closer so the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you hold your breath. He’s thick and warm and he pushes himself in so painfully slow, you can’t help but whimper. But then he retreats, pulling the very few inches he had granted you right back out. It was torture, all that just to make you talk.
"F-Fuck okay, okay! I was using… toys", you shamefully admit.
With those words he slams his hips forward, cock forcing itself deep inside you, the blunt head hitting your cervix in a way that has your legs quaking. And if you weren’t being pushed against the door, with his big hands supporting your weight by your hips, you would already be on the floor.
"What kind of toys?", Miles asks you so nonchalantly, it’s beyond you how he can keep his voice so composed while he’s buried balls deep inside you. "Anything big, hm? Bigger than me?"
You can’t really see him from your current position, but you know he’s grinning– that shit eating grin, with the tip of his fangs showing.
You quickly shake your head, "N-No sir!"
"You know what? I believe you, cupcake. You’re still so fucking tight, there’s no way you were using anything bigger than me. I barely fit, jesus christ." Quaritch exhales a shaky breathe, his eyes fixed to where you were joined, how you hugged his length tightly and he knew just from the feeling of your wet walls sucking him in, that this couldn’t be a one time thing. You had him addicted already and while this wasn’t even done yet, he was already imagining all the positions he would bend you in next.
“Gonna fuck you now. Think you can take it?” He all but growls in your ear, the timbre of it making you clench around him and you nod, desperately wiggling your hips to get him to move. “Good fucking girl", he gruffs out the praise, hips starting to retract and snap back at a furious pace.
Quaritch fell into a steady pace, the swing of his hips becoming quick and rhythmic. The slap of skin on skin filled his ears, joined by the breathless panting and moans that escaped your lips, sounding more and more desperate with each passing second and every stroke of his cock.
The firm snap of his hips against yours made your eyes roll to the back of your head, while you were trembling on unsteady feet to keep yourself upright. The way he was fucking into you was everything but lovingly. Quaritch was using you, using you for his own pleasure and fucking hell– you loved every second of it.
Especially so, when one of his hands encircles your middle and drops low between your thighs to search for your clit. Once found, he lightly slaps the little bundle of nerves and you suck in a breathe between clenched teeth. He then proceeded to roll it between his rough thumb and index finger, drawing tight circles that have you moan and squirm underneath his touch.
"F-Fuck yes, right t-there oh my god", you cry out when he speeds up the movement of thrusts, combined with the flicks of skillful digits between your thighs. You both knew that neither of you would last long, not with the way you both unknowingly worked each other up.
Some sane part of your brain registers that there’s no way the rest of your squad, the recoms in the other rooms that were littered along the hallway, couldn’t hear what was going on. Strangely enough, that thought starts tightening the coil inside of you, making you clench around him harder.
"That’s it, cupcake, don’t hold back", Quaritch groans, "Let everyone here how good I’m making you feel, be as loud as you need to. Never had a problem with that anyways, am I right?"
He pounded into you then, the head of his cock rapidly hitting your g-spot in the process while he rubbed your clit in a matching pace. Your jaw dropped and your hand clenched into fists against the door, but oh, that wasn't all that was clenching. Your breathing turned needy and higher pitched, struggling to keep steady as he was driving you over the edge faster.
You feel a familiar tension crawl under your skin, a warmth spreading through your core and you can’t help but push yourself back against him. You wanted– no, you needed to cum.
"God, look at you fucking taking it", Miles groans, biting his bottom lip hard enough to keep himself from spilling just a few moments longer. He was already so close from his little jerk off session, it was on the verge of edging himself now. But he wanted to feel you fall apart, wanted to feel you come first. He wanted to use your orgasm, the pulsing rhythm of your thigh pussy clenching down on him to help him over the edge.
It's a buildup of tension that arches your back and curls your toes and just when you think you can't take it anymore, something snaps. "Oh fuck, I’m gonna come", is the only thing you manage to get out before your orgasm pulses throughout your body and you moan, loud and lewd. You should probably feel embarrassed for being so vocal in the middle of the night, but you couldn’t care less right now. It was too late to feel embarrassed now. Especially when the Colonel was fucking you through it so good.
"Shit, would you look at that. You look delicious enough to eat, so damn pretty when you cum around my cock."
You feel his pace change before you can even come down from your high. It’s not necessarily slower, but his thrusts become shorter, deeper and they knock you forward until you can barely hold yourself upright against that damn door.
Quaritch grunts, ears flat against his head, as he reaches his own limit with a hiss. He buries his cock deep inside your cunt, cursing as he pumps his release straight into you. It’s hot and sticky and feel every rope of his cum enter you, while the hands on your hips hold you firm, hard enough to bruise. You moan and quiver as you’re filled, his heat pouring into you, filling you to the absolute brim, before spilling over and bubbling onto the floor.
And finally, you can breathe again. You didn’t even realize you were holding your breathe until now. That first hit of oxygen to your brain was practically revitalizing, giving you enough clarity to process what the hell just happened.
"Can’t deny you’re a good fuck, cupcake", Quaritch tells you panting, pulling his cock out of you a little too fast for your liking. You cringe when you feel more of his cum seep out of you and the feeling of it smearing between your thighs leaves you feeling filthy. You push yourself off the door, your face flustered as you turn around and you avoid his gaze at all cost. Nervously, you fiddle with the hem of your shirt, pulling it down enough to hide your private parts from. As if he didn’t just get a front row seat to look at your pussy in all its glory…
Shit– what were you even thinking, letting this happen? Quaritch was basically your boss! And now your secret little crush on him wasn’t so secret anymore…. All that just because you couldn’t keep it down. But how were you supposed to know that he was able to hear you all this time? Fucking thank you for that Z-dog, you curse your next door neighbor. She could’ve at least said something, assuming that she must have heard you too then.
You just can’t bring yourself to look up at the man standing in front of you, too awkward now that you realized how much of a fool you’ve made out of yourself, moaning like a slut for the whole world to hear. It’s not until you hear Quaritch scoff that you take a quick glance at him. He looks entirely too good standing there in his boxer briefs and muscle shirt, board arms crossed over his chest, right where his dog tags dangle against his sweaty skin. Oh god…
He grins with his canine showing and tilts his head in amusement, when he sees you swallow thickly and adverting your gaze from his body to his eyes in a not so subtle way.
"If you’re so needy, at least come over and let me help you out", he then tells you with a chuckle and your eyes widen at his unexpected words, "Instead of keeping me up all night and forcing me to listen to you, fucking yourself with whatever toys you’ve got in that drawer. Got it?"
"Yes sir…"
Albino version of this!
@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @olivia-the-weirdo @mechformers @rsclopez @totesnothere04 @milknhonies
word count: 7589
Pairing: Recom! Miles! Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi! Reader Tags/Warnings: nsfw, fluff, comfort, bonding, good feels
Author's Notes: Aye yo this took forever omg, my apologies for the wait! 7.5k words later! Hope it's to your liking everyone! The softness! Some niceness for Reader TwT Apologies for grammatical errors.
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It’s him.
It has to be him.
You see it in the way he stands, the swag of his stride. But it is most apparent in the way he tastes. This Demon, though he tastes of something wild and foreboding, there is still this underlying taste that is so wholly Quaritch. And you hate him for it. Hate him for everything he is, for everything he isn’t, and for everything he should be.
You cannot even begin to fathom his creation, dare not even ask him. How does he live without being piloted at the behest of his human body? Whatever the reason, it does not matter, at least not in the present.
You are grateful that the visits to the machine have stopped, at least for now. A small reprieve. The Demon’s visits however haven’t lessened in the slightest. He visits you nightly, you think, and based on that alone, you surmise your stay thus far has lasted 2 weeks, perhaps just short of it.
You stopped resisting after that first night. The threat of losing your kuru alone was enough to instill obedience within you. He leaves as soon as he’s done; you resign yourself to deal with him as he sees fit, anything to get him away from you as soon as possible.
Every look, every lingering gaze, every word of filth that drips from his mouth; a painful reminder of your human. Your prayers to Eywa go unanswered; without tsaheylu, you are far from her reach.
---
He hates it.
He fucking hated it; to not be in control of one’s faculties. There was a pull, a tug, a thread made taught. And always did it come back to you. He cannot explain it. Your notable sudden obedience is welcome, but it does not stop the guilt that floods him to the core.
He knows what he’s done to you, continues to do to you, is wrong. And yet he continues to seek you out. There is something indescribable he finds, some intangible force that beckons him; it’s as if this cursed planet itself commands it.
He wonders how long this’ll last though. General Ardmore is growing impatient. His squad has yet to produce any results. And somehow, beyond all possible reason, you have remained stalwart against the machine. He admires it at least, such loyalty, such unfettered willpower.
Perhaps he should consider a gentle approach with you, he thinks. It seems to be working with Spider. The kid has become noticeably more friendly with him and his team, and he wonders if he can convince you both to show the squad how to get one of those dragons.
“Colonel.” Quaritch is pulled from his thoughts and turns to regard the Admiral as she approaches.
“It’s time. Bring the prisoner in, put her back in the machine. She’s had enough of a break. This time, we’re going all the way.”
“All the way? Won’t that kill her?”
“Some sacrifices are worth it Quaritch; especially if we get the information we need. Sorry to cut your, leisure time, short.” She leaves without saying another word.
His tail flicks in annoyance, ears pin to the side of his head. There it is again, that ghostly feeling, the unseen guiding hand beckoning him. A whisper of a warning. He needs to make sure those science pukes don’t hurt you.
---
When you hear the familiar swoosh of the door opening, you sit at attention on your knees, ready and expecting Quaritch.
When he strides through the door, you shuffle to get comfortable. But the look he gives you stirs something uncomfortable inside you.
“Let’s go sweetheart,” the tone of his voice is unsettling and despondent.
Oh no.
No, no, no.
“P—please…Not that…anything but that…” You beg him, eyes watering at the memory of pain. You aren’t sure you’re resolve is strong enough this time. He gently but firmly grabs you around your upper arm, pulling you to your feet.
Immediately you struggle, try to pull yourself back, but it is of little use. He’s just so much stronger than you. As he pulls you along down the winding halls, you start to cry uncontrollably. You claw at his arm, begging in a blend of Na’vi and English.
He calls for Wainfleet and Mansk to help secure you in. He leans in and whispers, “I’m sorry,”.
You don’t believe him.
---
It feels like fire dances upon your mind. The swift cut of a knife. To tear muscle from bone. The restraints cut into your skin with how strong you struggle against them, thin beads of blood trickle along their edges.
You scream with all your might, throat raw, vocals threatening to tear.
The memories they pull do not make sense; an amalgamation of colours with no discernible imagery.
Quaritch can feel annoyance radiating off the Admiral standing next to him, arms crossed and tapping her fingers. She seems completely unbothered by your cries.
“Give us what we want. Which clans are harbouring Jake Sully?” She asks you, but you make no response.
“What the hell is happening? Why can’t we pull anything clear?” She demands angrily.
“I don’t know mam! The readings aren’t making any sense!” One of the scientists is in a panic, in fact, Quaritch notices they all are. Running around, fidgeting with control panels left and right.
You start bleeding freely from your nose. Your eyes are squeezed shut in painful suffering, tears streaming down your face. It takes all his will power to not push through everyone and wretch you free.
But he’s gotta stop it. He’s gotta do something. He can’t let this crazy bitch kill you. They’d find another way. There has to be another way to get to Sully. And maybe, just maybe, killing his kid was not the best way to go about it.
Spider is definitely not going to forgive him for this. He’s not even sure why he even cares so much about the opinion of one savage raised wildling. After all Spider’s not his son; he’s Quaritch’s son. All he has is that man’s memories. He’s not him, not really.
Before he can really fall into some existential crisis, he perks up at the sound of a very familiar voice.
‘Sweetheart put the damn knife down before you hurt yourself.’
‘Wha-?! I’ll have you know my father trained me!.’
The sound of scoff. ‘Yeah I bet. C’mere and show me so I can see what he did wrong.’
That’s…his voice. And that other one, is that yours? The image on the tiny screen in front of you is slowly coming into focus. He hears a soft giggle, a melody oh so sweet.
‘You’re impossible!’
The image snaps into focus immediately, and what he is faced with, causes every nerve in his body to tense up.
There he is. Human Quaritch, there in your memory, and it seems you’re not that much taller than him. That does not make sense. There’s no feasible way for you to have been born, grow up to that height and age, and interact with his human self. Jake hadn’t been on the planet long enough for that to happen.
He’s so confused. That shouldn’t be possible. He, that man, died years ago. What the hell is going on here? Where could you have possibly gotten these memories from? Did you make them up somehow? Figure out a way to fool the machine? He looks to you then, and his blood ran colder than the corpse of his former self.
You’re slumped back, no longer screaming, no longer fighting. Blood paints your face, broken by streams of tears. He’s about to reach for you when one final image flashes on the screen. A dark room. Looks like his old bedroom back at Hell’s Gate. There he stands, in the centre. He turns to look at the camera, at you.
‘Well hey there Sweetheart. Now aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes…’
Before Quaritch can even reach for the emergency shut-down button, the machine suddenly sputters to a stop, sparks flying from it’s spinning mechanism. The screen before the admiral flashes red, loud static screeches from within, causing everyone to cover their ears.
“ENOUGH”
The power goes out, drenching the lab in darkness. The only light permeating is that from yours and his bodies. It takes only a few seconds for the power to return.
He looks to the General, and she is pissed.
“Care to explain, Colonel? What the hell was that?” Quaritch holds his hands up defensively.
“I have no memory of her. I don’t know what any of those images were. He didn’t talk about no Na’vi woman in any of his messages, and she sure as shit ain’t in any of the memories you gave me. I ain’t got an answer for ya.”
She eyes him suspiciously. A stare down. He can feel his ears pin back in annoyance, tail lightly swishing. But he spoke the truth.
“Fine. I believe you. Could very well be someone he acquainted with after his memories were backed up. Though that still raises more questions. And I intend to get those answers one way or another.” She looks to you then, completely unbothered by your appearance. She notices the faint rise and fall of your chest. Still breathing.
“Get her out of here. See to it that she’s ready and able in the next few days.” She walks away from him, not leaving any room for argument. She immediately goes to the scientists to assess the machine, a damage report, run diagnostics. Quaritch doesn’t need to be told twice.
Hastily he unfastens you from the machine, picks you up in his arms and rushed you to medical.
---
The doctors give you a thorough once over, made sure there was no lasting damage. To his utter relief, you were miraculously alright. But you remained fast asleep. After the check-up he brought you back to your cell, carefully placing you on the bed. He tucked your knees into you in an attempt to try and fit all of you on the bed the best he could.
He knelt before you then, stared at your face intently. You looked so peaceful, the slow rhythmic sounds of your breathing luring him in. He brushed some of your hair out of your face, the stain of blood and tears still slightly visible; the scientists did what they could. He’d have you wash yourself proper once you wake up.
His eyes widened. Would you even wake up after something like that? And why does even care, really? You aren’t anything to him; not really. Maybe you were to his human self, but even then, the memories he carries cut off before then apparently. But the longer he stares at your face, the tighter his heart squeezes. An uncomfortable knot forms in the pit of his stomach. Too afraid to dwell on these feelings, he stands and hurriedly leaves the room; he’d check on you later.
He’s got to tell Spider. The kid was going to find out about this one way or another. He’d rather the kid hear it from him.
---
“There you are! What happened before? All the lights turned off. The power go out?” Spider rushes to him as soon as he enters.
He’s words get caught in his throat as he stares down at the boy. His not-son. But he kind of is, isn’t he? The memories demand it so. The paternal feelings he has for this boy are undeniable. But whatever trust he’s brokered with the boy, he’s all but shattered now.
“Why’re you looking at me like that…?” A worried look crosses Spider’s face. “Did…Did something happen to my sister? Did you guys hurt her? Where is she?! I want to see her!!!” The longer the silence remains, the more agitated Spider becomes.
“I’m sorry kid…The science pukes, and Ardmore…They put her in that brain scan machine. It knocked her out cold.” He feels shame relaying this to the boy. The hurt and shocked look that adorns his face cuts him something deep.
“Let me see her. LET. ME. SEE. HER.” Spider tries to push pass him, but Quaritch stops him with just a hand. Spider pulls his hand away and makes for the door. And so the two start struggling. Quaritch holding him back with all his strength, all the while Spider fights him with all his might and willpower, screaming at the top of his lungs. He had to see you. Had to get to you. You can’t be hurt. He’d never forgive himself. For you to be suffering while he was out having fun with the recoms?
“LET ME GO!!! LET ME SEE MY SISTER!!! PLEASE!!! LET ME SEE [Y/N]!!!”
‘[Y/N]? That’s…your name?’ He’s taken aback by the sound of your name. Had he really not deigned to ask it of you all this time? Shameful. Disgusting.
A sharp pain suddenly slices through his skull. He pushes Spider to the side, clutching his head as he falls to his knees. He yells in pain.
Spider is taken aback by the sudden action, picking himself off the floor as he stares intently at Quaritch. Before he can ask what’s wrong, the older man gets up and exists the room in one fluid motion, no words said. Spider bangs on the door, demanding to see you, all the while he can’t stop the tears that start streaming down his face.
---
[Y/N]…
[Y/N]…
[Y/N]…
Your name repeats itself like a mantra in his thoughts, dances across his mind draped in silk. The pain has subsided, leaving a dull ache in its wake. He stumbles his way back into his room, collapsing onto his bed. He’s grateful that they were made with their new bodies in mind.
He thinks then, about those images he saw on that screen. He called you Sweetheart. And the looks he gave you? He meant it. The very implications themselves were troubling. What the fuck was he doing after he made these back up memories? Over and over he replays them. Those images. The sound of your laughter. And your name.
Sleep takes him before he even realises.
---
Quaritch opens his eyes with a start.
White.
That’s all he sees. There is no sky, no ground. No floor, no ceiling. Only the bright brilliance of white. He lifts his hands to his face, the blue of his hands a stark contrast to the world.
Where was he? Was he dreaming? He didn’t feel in pain anymore.
He turns himself to assess his surroundings. He finds himself floating, no solid ground beneath his feet. He tries to move then, and finds his legs are held steadfast by an invisible force. He is only able to turn his top half, barely.
A voice then, interrupts his struggling.
“You know, my son…You sure are taking your time. When I put you in that new body, I didn’t expect you to take this long to remember…”
The voice is soft like feathers, the melody of spring. But it is also deep like the ocean, dark as night, hot like fire. It bathes him in sunlight, and burns him all the same.
“Who—who’s there?! Show yourself! Where am I?!” Fear pools into his being. He does not like the feeling of not being in control.
“Silly boy…Always so feisty! It seems then, that you are in dire need…Of a little push.” On that final word, he feels a hand touch between his shoulder blades, and push him with all its might.
The world snaps to black and suddenly he’s free falling. He can’t help the scream that rips from his mouth. He hears a giggle slowly fade above him as he falls further into the abyss.
---
Quaritch sits up in his room, screaming at the top of his lungs as he does. He grabs his mask and breathes deep, trying desperately to calm himself.
Where is he? Where are you? He looks around his room, confused almost. Right, he must have fallen asleep after his talk with…his son? Miles. No, Spider. His son. His. He looks at his hands, almost expecting the golden tan of his human skin. Human?
Confused by his own train of thought, he stumbles into the bathroom to splash water on his face.
He grips the sink tightly, staring at the water as it goes down the drain.
It feels like he’s been asleep for so long. Everything is so foggy in his mind. Spider is, his son. And he called you his sister…You…You? YOU!
The memory crashes into him hard enough to knock him to the ground. Everything snaps hard into place; he feels as though his mind has been whipped a hundred times over. It is a pain he would be happy to not revisit ever again.
The last time he saw you, in the Dreamscape. You disappeared like you usually do, but then…a voice.
---
“My son…”
“Oh…it’s you.” He cannot see her. She never shows herself. But Her presence is felt. It encapsulates his entire being. He cannot escape Her influence. He wonders if She’s here to chastise him about what he’s been doing with you.
“There is something you must do for me, Child. And I am going to put you to rest until the time is right.”
“What? To rest? Why?” Not about you, a good start. Though he finds her request strange all the same. Put a soul to sleep?
“Silly Child. Do not question. When you awaken in your new body, you will not remember. I will let you keep those, fake memories, your fellow Sky People made.” Ah. That.
“Shit…they really gonna go ahead with that?”
“Language.”
He rolls his eyes at the reprimand.
“Why put me back? Wouldn’t the backups be enough to get the body goin?”
She laughs then. As if this was truly the funniest thing imaginable.
“The arrogance of your kind astounds me, truly. No. Your, ‘backups’, will never suffice. I would never allow it. These Na’vi bodies will exist because I allow it. And they will end, because I demand it.”
“Wait, did you say Na’vi?”
---
And then, nothing.
She must have been true to her word. Cutting him off then suddenly putting him into a sort of stasis sleep.
Quaritch throws up into the toilet beside him, reeling as his mind tries so desperately to make sense of all the memories bombarding him at once. He’s not sure how long he lies there, sorting through it all. Groggily he sits up, and goes to the sink to clean his mouth properly.
The minty feeling brings some relief.
When he sees his reflection, it’s a weird feeling of something he’s never seen, and something he should be used to after being awake all this time. He closes his eyes, rubbing his hands down his face in frustration.
In image of you flashes in his mind.
‘[Y/N]???’
His eyes fly open and the thought of you. Guilt tears into his flesh, ripping through blood and sinew. He’s hurt you. He really hurt you. Used you. And you gave up, you just, took it all. He has to find you, he has to apologise, has to make it right somehow. He has to explain, he didn’t remember! Else, he’d have never—!
He runs out the room without finishing that thought.
---
The sound of a door opening is the first thing you register.
Your mind is filled with fog, senses dulled. You muster what little strength you can to open your eyes, but it’s not enough. The only thing you see is a silhouette approaching you, and in the fog of your mind, it looks so much like Your Human. You close your eyes and weep softly.
You think you feel yourself being lifted up, but you're not sure for how long. Next think you feel is the soft feeling of a bed beneath you. There is a hand on your cheek, and it is so warm, so familiar. Then a whisper of your name, and something else.
“[Y/N]…I’m so sorry darling…”
---
When next your eyes open, the room is dark. But damn do you feel refreshed. You haven’t slept that good since you got trapped in this place.
You sit up and stretch, clicking joints as you do.
Your eyes quickly adjust to the darkness, and your heart skips. This is not your cell.
It is bigger. There is a door ahead, presumably out, and what you can only assume is a bathroom door to your left. The bed you’re on is in the corner of the room, and it’s big enough for your tall body. You look to your right and cover your mouth before you can scream. You shuffle back and press yourself into the wall as if it would swallow you whole. You almost hoped it did.
There beside the bed, uncomfortably sat in a chair, arms crossed and asleep, is The Demon.
Did he bring you here? Where exactly is here?
You gaze around the room once more, taking note of some gym equipment in one corner, and the clothes neatly folded in an alcove on the wall. Slowly you move your hands from your face and breath deep, quietly. The scent is unmistakable. This must be his dwelling. You lean down and sniff the sheets. Yup, that’s him alright.
You try to move off the bed quietly, but the shuffle of the sheets is enough to alert him.
His eyes are on you immediately. You stare at each other.
You break eye contact and scramble for the door.
But he’s just as quick, and a strong arm grabs you around the waist, pulling you flush against his front. His other arm crosses over your chest to hold your arms still. You start fighting, kick and screaming, hands clawing at the arms holding you steadfast.
“Let me go! I don’t want to see you! LET ME GO YOU MONSTER! I WON’T LET YOU HURT ME ANYMORE! I’D SOONER DIE THAN LET YOU TOUCH ME AGAIN!!!”
You’re screaming at the top of your lungs. Quaritch is grateful that the rooms are sound proof.
“[Y/N]! [Y/N], calm down! Please!” But you ignore his plea and continue to thrash wildly. “[Y/N]! Listen to me, please! It’s me!!!” You stop dead at that, and the Demon continues. “It’s me…[Y/N]…it’s me…”
You become stock still at those words. You heart beats hard in your chest, the implications of his words break you.
“No…no it’s not…you look like Him…you smell like Him…but you are not Him…” you spit with as much venom as you can, but can’t help the tears that flow freely. The waver in your voice breaks his heart.
“It’s me Sweetheart…I promise…Here, look at me…please…” You feel him loosen his hold on you. He moves his hands to your upper arms, and slowly he turns you to face him. Your tears continue to fall silently.
You look up at him then, meeting his gaze. And in that darkened room, you see Him. Those golden eyes shine down on you, staring at you with such reverence, sorrow, guilt, longing. It all dances in the liquid gold of his eyes. And the way he pinches his brow, is so like Him.
“…Miles?” He lets out a shaky laugh, a sigh of relief. You do remember him. Thank the Great Mother.
“Yeah…it’s me sweetheart. For real this time.” He moves one hand to your face, gently swiping his thumb to brush away your tears. It doesn’t matter, they don’t stop falling as you stare up at him.
“Seeing you in person like this…Getting to touch you, for real…You’re more beautiful than that Dream ever made you…” You scoff at him, and can’t help the smallest of smiles. His other hand moves to cup the other side of your face. You move both your hands to cover his.
“Skxáwng…I only look like this because of my soul, remember?” The low rumble of his chuckle sends shivers down your spine. Oh how you have missed him. But you can’t forget everything that’s happened. You place a hand on his chest, feeling the fast beat of his heart. His strong heart.
“…Why?” You don’t need to elaborate; he understands what you are asking of him.
“…Eywa, she…She came to me. The last time I saw you. Just after you left…”
“The Great Mother spoke to you?” You are shocked. He nods, and continues.
“She told me, she’s gotta put me back in a body. But I wouldn’t remember anything…Not properly. Before I died, I made a back up of my memories. A contingency plan in the event of my untimely death. Seems the higher ups went ahead and resurrected me and a few others, but in Na’vi bodies. But Eywa, she said, these bodies wouldn’t, exist? Without her say so, I guess. So…I’m assuming all of us recoms, are actually harbouring our original souls, that she kept. For this reason I suppose.”
You swallow thickly. It’s a lot to take in. Your eyes cast downward as you try to process it all. So Eywa, blessed Great Mother, did she foresee this? And she keep these human souls so their Na’vi bodies would live?
“[Y/N]…” Quaritch calls you, and you look up to meet his gaze. “[Y/N], I’m so sorry…I mean that, I’m really fucking sorry…Everything I did to you darling, I hurt you. Really hurt you. Please know, that wasn’t really me. I wasn’t thinking properly. If—if I remembered, I would have never—” You jump at him unexpectedly, wrapping your legs around his waist, arms around his neck. Instinctually he has one arm supporting your rump, his other hand splayed across your back. In this position, it’s your turn to look down at him.
“It’s…I don’t want to say it’s okay…Because it’s not really okay…But…I understand. And I’ll forgive you, in time…” You see the quiver of his lips, his ears pressed back as he tries to not cry.
“I’ve missed you so much Quaritch…I thought you left me.” You pull him into the crook of your neck, holding his head to you tightly. He breathes deep the smell of you.
“Never darling. I would never have left you willingly. I’m sorry.” You press a kiss to the side of his head. And it’s all he needs to break. He weeps quietly into the crook of your neck. He truly never meant to hurt you, and he will hate himself for a long time for the things he did against your will.
When he stops, you gently push on his shoulders for him to lean back. When once again your eyes meet, it is your turn to wipe away his tears. You smile at him, gently tracing the stars on his face. Carefully you study his face, really looking at him. He really is Your Human, made Na’vi. Such a handsome face.
“This body suits you well, Quaritch. Then again, you were always handsome.” Even in this low light, you can see the blush that creeps on his skin.
“Heh…that right?” He smirks and you all but melt at the toothy grin. You feel his tail wrap around yours.
“Yeah…that’s right.”
You kiss him.
You kiss him and it’s filled with every lonely night, every mournful sleep, every minute of every day you missed him. You move your head to deepen the kiss, the need for breathing be damned. You feel his hands grip at you tighter, feel him press into you that much harder.
His lips are softer than you remember, and you revel in the feeling. You on the other hand, are just as he remembers; something akin to perfection. The Peace of Eden granted to him.
The two of you move your mouths along one another in a hot sloppy mess, filled with nothing but unspoken words, drenched in a cacophony of emotion. It is almost overwhelming. You feel him lick your lips, begging for entrance, and you are all too eager to oblige. You part your lips and go for his tongue first. You moans low into your mouth at your boldness. The two of you don’t fight, but let your tongues dance in each other’s mouth, tasting and drinking deep of one another.
After a time you break apart, you rest your forehead to his, nose to nose, as close as you possibly can while still being able to breath. The air is hot with your mixed breath.
“I have definitely missed you,” you say breathlessly with a smile, eyes half lidded in bliss. He smiles up at you.
“Then, let’s make up for lost time,” he says and gently lets you down back onto your feet. You entwine your hand with his and move to pull him to the bed, but he doesn’t move. You turn to look at him questioningly.
“Nuh-huh sweetheart. This time, it’s all about you.” He says and pulls you toward the door near the bed. He touches a panel on the side, and as you had expected, it opens to a bathroom.
“Come. Let me take care of you. Properly. Like you deserve.” He leads you in, the door shutting behind you. He is gentle and purposeful with his movements. He moves slowly, as if to savour every moment. He begins with undressing you. Ever since he had ripped apart your original clothes, he had given you a tank top and shorts made for one of the recom girls; though the top did little for you, considering your size.
Once you’re completely naked, he starts undoing your hair. He leads you to the far wall, two shower heads, one overhanging the other. He turns a metal knob and hot water shoots out the higher head. It falls on you like heavy rain, and you sigh audibly at the feeling.
Satisfied you’ll be okay for a moment, Quaritch takes the opportunity to undress himself as fast as possible.
Immediately he’s back at you.
You feel him undo the braid of your kuru. He tilts your head back, slowly he massages your scalp. He rubs his strong thick fingers in slow circles on your head, massaging deeply at the base of your kuru. You moan at the feeling.
“That feel good?”
“Hm-hmm,” you hum contently in response. He nods to himself.
You feel him lather something into your hair then. It smells nice, but also, very strange yet familiar. You realise it’s something you have smelt on some of the scientists back at base. It must be something they wash their hair with then. You don’t really care, more interested in the soothing way Quaritch massages your hair. Carefully he washes your hair, being extra careful with the long hair for your braid.
You can’t help but smile at the attention.
A new smell hits you, and you feel his hands on your body this time. Slowly he works, lathering softness up and down your arms, your neck, your belly, your back. When he gets to your chest, he massages your mounds for longer than you think is necessary to clean them. You don’t mind though, and enjoy the soft pleasure it gives you. You lean your head back into his chest as he continues to massage you in each hand. You feel his arousal between your ass cheeks, and it excites you that much more.
He stops himself though, can’t get too excited. He wants to finish what he started. A soft wet material is placed gently on your sex, and you feel him carefully clean your most intimate parts. When he’s done there, he’s back to using his hands, rubbing them up and down your legs, up and down your tail. He lifts one leg to wash your foot properly, and you giggle at the ticklish feeling. You playfully hit him with your tail.
“Hey, I’m trying to work here,” he says as he busies himself with your other leg.
Once his done, you expected him to get back to his feet. Instead you are caught off guard when you feel his hands squeeze both your ass cheeks apart. You turn to him, and find him on his knees, and you can clearly see just how aroused he is.
“Turn back around baby. Brace yourself on the wall, and stick your ass out for me.” You don’t need to be told twice. You pull your kuru over your shoulder to the front, letting it hang before you. He taps your laps and you spread them further. Hands and forearms pressed to the tiles, ass up. He takes your tail and wraps it around your leg, out of his way.
“Perfect,” he hums.
Slowly he stars pressing light kisses to your inner thigh. Up he travels, closer and closer to your apex. But just before reaching your centre, he moves to the other leg, continuing with his worship. All the while his hands gently massage the swell of your ass cheeks.
He stops again just short of your core and you almost whine. He takes both thumbs to either side of your lower lips and spreads you.
You make a startled moan as he does this a few times, pressing your lips together before spreading you, as if to spread your nectar evenly.
“Hmmm…such a pretty pussy all for me. I didn’t think you could grow to be any more beautiful, [Y/N]…” This time you do whine at his words.
He leans forwards and gives you a slow lick to your exposed hole. You inhale sharply at the feeling, immediately becoming slicker at the feeling. Slowly he licks you, up and down, before he moves to your clit and gently sucks.
The noises you make go straight to his hardened cock. He would give anything to be buried deep inside you right the fuck now. But no, first, he owes you this at least. He wants you to come into his mouth, he wants to know what you truly taste like. Wants to know if you taste different with his new body. He removes his mouth from you for but a moment.
“Turn around darling. I wanna see those pretty eyes when I make you come with my mouth,” You turn around, leaning your back to the wall for support.
He wastes no time, mouth back between your legs. But this time, his eyes are on you, and you can’t look away. He spreads your lips again, pressing his nose to your clit, while his tongue rubs along the inside of your entrance.
“Hnnf…Quaritch…” You moan his name, the feeling of his mouth on your cunt sending fire to your core. You feel the build up of an orgasm, pleasure wound tight around your soul.
One hand has you spread open. He brings his other hand up to replace his tongue. He sticks one long finger inside you, gently rubbing your inner walls. Your eyes threatening to close at the feeling.
“Keeps those eyes open, sweetness,” You will yourself to open your eyes, trying your best not to break eye contract. He turns his hand upward, and rubs a soft spongy part of you.
“Aaaahh!” You moan loudly at the feeling of him caressing your g-spot.
“There we go, that’s the spot.” He says and moves to suck your clit. He sticks another finger in, and gently rubs the same spot.
“Yes yes yes please right there! Quaritch! Please don’t stop, don’t you ever stop!” Your mouth hangs open as you moan the words. You can’t stop yourself; a hand moves to grab his short hair, and you press his face harder onto your pussy. His presses his tongue to your clit, caressing it in time with the fingers pumping in and out of you.
“Not on your life, baby.”
You feel your orgasm approaching, hot white pleasure seeming through your veins, wrapping around each nerve ending. An unfamiliar pressure builds along aside it all.
“Quaritch—I’m…I’m gonna—” You can’t get the words out properly.
“Go ahead darling. Cum for me, [Y/N], let me taste you, all of you,”
And when he sticks a third finger in to rub that soft spot, all it takes is one final hard suck to your clit.
The orgasm hits you hard, harder than he’s ever made you cum, harder than you’ve ever made yourself come.
You scream his name as burning pleasure bursts from your cunt, spreading to every part of your body. But the pleasure builds more as he continues to suck, and suddenly you feel like you’re peeing. You are shocked as you squirt clear liquid straight onto his face, there’s so much he doesn’t catch it all in his mouth. You toes curl at the uncontrollable feeling, your body shaking at the overwhelming sensation. Your eyes roll back into your head as you feel yourself orgasm again.
“There it is…That’s my good girl, always knew you could do it,” he praises you, fingers still buried in you. He stands up then, wrapping an arm around your back to help support you. He buries his face in your neck, sucking at your tender flesh. He slowly starts pumping his fingers inside you, you wet squelch of your pussy embarrassing to your ears.
It’s all too much, you’re not ready yet. The pleasure is boarding on painful.
“Hnnnggg…Sto…Quari...hnnff...Aaaahhh!” You can’t formulate whole words, only strangled sounds as your body burns.
“Easy baby, easy does it now.” He removes his fingers from your throbbing core. He lifts you up then, presses your back against the cold tiles, supporting you under your ass. He has one hand on his aching cock at your entrance. Slowly he rubs the tip and down your slit, coating himself in your juices.
“You’re my pretty little instrument to play, [Y/N]; and I plan to write a symphony.” He pushes into you and meets no resistance. A pitched mewl escapes your lips at the new feeling. Never have you ever felt so completely, full. This new body, you knew he’d be big, but it didn’t really register how big he was when you were sucking him off. You only just came, but already you want to cum again on his cock. You walls clench around him at the thought.
“Fuck [Y/N], you’re so tight baby—Perfectly made just for me,” he groans into your ear, but does not move; giving you a moment to adjust to his size. You secure your legs around him, tucking your ankles into the small of his back.
“Please…Please I need to move darling; you’re driving me crazy here…” He begs as he looks into your eyes. You shake your head and it takes all his willpower to not cry in frustration. But he sees you move to grab your queue, holding the tip between you two.
“First…Bond with me, Miles.” His eyes widen when you call him by his first name. His heart swells. “If we bond…know that it is for life. I will never mate with another. There will only be you…There…has only ever been you. Ever since the Dream I… I have only had eyes for you…You are, were, my human. My first love…And…I want you to be my mate...I love you,” You bring one hand up to gently cup the side of his face, gently rubbing his cheek of the stray tear.
“[Y/N]…are…are you, sure? After everything I’ve done, even when I was human…I did a lot of bad things, terrible things…Then after we captured you…Are you sure I’m the kind of man you wanna spend the rest of your life with?”
You giggle at him, wiggling your hips. He sucks in a breath, clenching his jaw.
“It is by Eywa’s will that you are brought back to me. This time, I am not letting you go,” You squeeze your legs tight, forcing him to step forward. The force alone pushes you further up the tiles, the two of you moaning as his dick pushes as far into you as possible. He doesn’t need anymore convincing. He grabs is queue and brings it to yours.
The two of you watch with baited breath as the pink tendrils slowly entwine.
The two of you drop your queues, hands immediately seeking each other as all new sensations course through you.
You feel it, the sensation of being buried deep into your warm centre, and he in turns feels the pleasure of being spread and stuffed by his own dick.
He smashes his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply, passionately. Without warning, he starts pounding into you, unable to control himself any longer.
And you don’t care. You roughly grab the back of his head, deepening the kiss, and he moans into your mouth.
His pace is fast and rough. It feels like his dick moulds itself into the walls of your slick cunt with each thrust deep inside you. You swear you can feel the tip of his cock tease your womb.
This time your orgasm is not slow. It spreads fast like wild fire, burning every nerve in body, setting your core alight with pleasure.
You breathlessly moan into his mouth. He pulls back and bites you in the neck.
“Hnnnnngggg! Miles! Right there! Yes, YES! PLEASE!” You moan at the pain and pleasure, feeling him lick at the bruise forming.
“Tell me! Tell me how good it feels!”
“AAAaaaaaahhh!!!” You can’t respond to his demands, he starts pumping into slower, but harder, grunting each time he bottoms out into you.
“You think I forgot about those shitty brats from your clan? I wonder what they think of you know all grown up, massive fucking tits, these wide hips. Perfect for carrying a baby. Is that what you want, [Y/N]?” You cry at the pleasure assaulting your nerves, his words stroking something deep and primal within you. Never had you ever considered having children, especially since he had been human. But now, with this Na’vi body?
“YES! YES! YES! Please Colonel, stuff me, fuck me, breed me! Cum in me! Put a baby in me! Make me yours!!!”
He chuckles, and the deep bravado of his voice nearly tips you over the edge.
“You were always mine darling. Eywa must’a made you just for me. You’re MINE, you hear me?!” He starts pounding fast again, his pace unrelenting.
“I love you too—I love you I love you—!” he repeats in your ear over and over again. And so the cord snaps, and your orgasm rains on you, pleasure piercing you. Your walls tighten, and the vice grip is all Quaritch needs to finish. He holds himself as close to you as possible, almost painfully into your pelvis bone.
You feel his pleasure through the bond, you hear the guttural sound he makes as he coats your walls with his seed. He rests his head into the crook of neck, breathing heavily. You feel the strain of his muscles as he tries to hold the both of you up.
You untangle yourself to stand, and he welcomes the reprieve.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, and he wraps his around your waist, bringing each other as close as possible. You hold each other like that, with his head in your neck, for a short while. Gently do the two of you sway from side to side to some phantom music.
Eventually though, you start to feel a little uncomfortable being in the hot water this long. He feels this too through the bond, and pulls back, pulling himself from you as he does.
You moan at the feeling of his cum running down your leg. What you don’t expect is him scooping some with his fingers and sticking it back up into your sensitive pussy. You yelp with surprise.
“Don’t waste any darlin’,” he says with a cheeky grin. And he doesn’t stop. He pulls another orgasm from you with just his fingers.
“That’s is baby, just like that…” he whispers into your ear and you squirt all over again.
---
By time you two are actually done in the shower, you cannot stand on your own. Quaritch didn’t mind though, all too happy to dry you and carry you to the bed himself. He towel dries your hair carefully, mindful of the bond yet to be broken.
You help him braid your hair back over your queue. It is a very intimate thing, and he feels your heart swell at the activity.
“So…does this mean we’re married?” He asks as he finishes the bottom of braid. You giggle at him.
“Yes. You are my mate. My partner. My husband,” you smile sweetly as the words leave your lips.
“Hmm…My wife.” He likes the sound of that.
“Yes, husband?”
He looks at you for a second, confused, before he understands. Oh yes, he definitely likes the sound of that.
“Come here you!” He grabs you and you laugh uncontrollably as he squeezes you to him, peppering your neck and face with light kisses.
He pulls you to lie back down on the bed with him, you nestle into his side, arm draped over his broad chest, head resting in the crook of his neck. He puts an arm securely around your waist, his other hand comes to entwine with yours laying over him. Your bond rests protected under your joint hands.
You plant a soft kiss to his neck, and he looks to meet your gaze lovingly.
“I love you, Miles. Oel ngati kameie.”
“I love you too, sweetheart. Truly. Deeply. Forever. Oel ngati kameie, [Y/N].”
And you believe him.
---
Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who's been following this mini series! Please do leave a comment and share your thoughts with me!
SO! My friend linked me this AI that kind kind of mimic voices if it's learnt off a good enough sample...You best BELIEVE, I attempted to make Quaritch lmaoooo. Anyway enjoy that. It's a bid hard to find balance between sounding close to the original, but also getting it to emote properly!
It's a work in progress ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @lvangel98, @rsclopez, @onlyreadz @manymaria111, @kristeen31xxx @mechformers @olivia-the-weirdo @essenceinpink @villirios
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Sometimes I stare at the computer screen when the words don’t want to come and I think, “Fuck, who am I kidding? This is terrible writing, and this story is shit, and no one cares, anyway.“ And I close the window and go do something else.
But every now and then I get an amazing, heartfelt, beautiful comment from someone who loved something I wrote, and it reminds me that, at least for that one person, I did write something worthwhile. And so I open the window again and I write one sentence, and then another, and then I start to find my way again.
So on behalf of all fanfic writers everywhere, I want to say thank you, thank you so much, to all of the readers who take the time to leave a comment and tell us that something we wrote mattered to you, that it brightened your day or made you laugh or cry or get horny or whatever.
Please don’t think we’re ever bothered by your comment, or that we don’t want to hear it, or that what you have to say isn’t important enough. It means so, so much. And on some days, it’s what keeps us going.
word count: 1906
Pairing: Recom Miles Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi Reader Tags/Warnings: family bonding Author's Note: Slightly longer chapter! Posts still not showing up in tags TwT Oh well, I'll still keep posting in the hopes it fixes itself! Just a reminder this is in fact a slow burn, so I would like to do a bit of world building. Help establish your place amongst the family and clan.
"blue text" is spoken Na'vi. 'Italics' are inner thoughts.
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· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
It is when you reach the age of 12 that you decide these dreams are Eywa’s doing. They visit you in an unpredictable frequency. Whether he is a memory of a man long since passed, or a figment of your imagination given life through dreamscape; you are unsure, but don’t think too much of it. After all they are merely dreams, they cannot hurt you, right?
The man doesn’t say much. More often than not you two didn’t interact at all. If he sees you, he simply huffs in annoyance and ignores you. As such you simply observed him from a distance, hidden behind something or rather, as he performed whatever bizarre Human ritual he felt necessary.
Sometimes you go months without seeing him. But it’s happened often enough now you find your mind drifts to him.
You’re at the Tree of Souls with your grandmother, Mo’at, repeating after her as she leads you through a prayer to Eywa, when a thought suddenly hits you; ‘what if he was a human soul, and the Great Mother claimed him as her own?’ You stop in wonder at the thought. Would such a thing even be possible? Even after everything that they’ve done to your clan, would she still find place for them in Her Embrace? Maybe. There were plenty of Sky People who were good. They respected the All-Mother and all her children.
Spider was one of them – the strange boy that he is. You don’t know of any other human children on Pandora, and you think he must be the first to be born here. He’s only 7, the same age as your younger brother Lo’ak and sister Kiri, but by Eywa is he just as rambunctious. You love seeing him play with them and Neteyam too. Tuk is a bit too young, still a baby that one. But you have no doubt in your mind she’ll enjoy his company just as much.
Out of all your siblings though, you’re sure he’s closest to you. As the eldest, you naturally fell into the role of protector. And as far as you’re concerned, he’s just another part of the family, another little brother to watch over and love.
“[Y/N]?”
Your thoughts are interrupted by your grandmother calling your name. You realise you had stopped praying as your mind started to wonder.
“Yes, grandmother?”
“Tell me child, what is on your mind? You are distracted.” She asks you as she brushes some hair from your face. You smile at the gesture.
“Nothing is the matter, sorry grandmother. I was just thinking of my brothers and sisters.” She hums thoughtfully and pulls her hand back.
“You may go to them then. There will be plenty of time to give thanks to the All-Mother. But your brothers and sister won’t always be so young. Go and enjoy them.” You grin at the declaration and hug her quickly before immediately sprinting to find your little band of siblings. She smiles at the sight of you running carefree through the forest.
You have a pretty good idea where you might find them. There are a few rivers nearby that you all love splashing in. Sometimes Father will join, chasing all of you through the shallows and splashing all of you wildly. You love that game.
You make your way to the first river but do not see your siblings. You do find a few adults fishing though. You recognise one of them as Saeyla, a great warrior and friend to both your parents.
“Ah! Young [Y/N]! What brings you here? Here to help us fish, are you?” She beams a wild smile at you. You see a young initiate beside her. She must be showing him the best places to fish, and when to appropriately use a bow or spear.
“Hello Saeyla! No not right now. I’m looking for my brothers and sisters, have you seen them?” She nods and points to her left. You thank her and run off in that direction, bidding goodbye to everyone.
Once you’re out of earshot the young man chuffs to himself and mumbles,
“She still looks like a freak even after all this time.” Saeyla flicks him right in the forehead.
“Watch your tongue! In case you have forgotten, that is Toruk Makto’s daughter. Our Olo'eyktan’s daughter. Show some respect. It is by Eywa’s will that she is here. Or are you going to question the wisdom of our Great Mother?” She fixes him with a stare, challenging him. He stiffens at her look.
“Sorry Saeyla. I—I didn’t mean—” He stumbles to find the right words but she waves him off with a click of her tongue.
“Let us continue and pretend you said nothing.” He nods at her words.
---
Your siblings are exactly where Saeyla said they’d be. All happily splashing in the water; not a care in the world. You smile and sit on a nearby tree root, a bit out of their line of sight. Content to simply watch them. You’re happy to see little Spider here too. You giggle to yourself as you watch him playfully dive atop the pile of Kiri and Lo’ak, Neteyam off to the side pulling on someone’s tail.
As you watch them, you admire the gold of Spider’s locks, not too dissimilar to your own. The play with the threaded gold of your hair idly between fingers, reminiscing on the firs time you had met the boy.
You had begged and pleaded with Father to teach you the language of the Sky People. Reluctant at first, he figured it would probably be in your best interest to learn it in the end, considering there were plenty of Humans and Avatars left behind on Pandora. And to be fair not everyone had learnt the Na’vi language. He figures you being at the young age of 8, it’s probably easier for their language to make a lasting impression than adults learning Na’vi.
He relents and takes you to see Norm, though bi-lingual now himself, he’s not entirely sure how to go about actually teaching you the language. Figured Norm, the science-head that he is, would have an easier time. You like Uncle Norm anyway. He tells you lost of fascinating stories about Sky People and the planet they came from. Especially when Father is reluctant to share. You also find it very funny when he switches to his Sky People body; he’s so short compared to when he’s a Dreamwalker.
So there you are, at Hell’s Gate with your Father. Mother stayed behind in the forest, content to watch over Neteyam, Lo’ak and Kiri.
Father and Uncle Norm are discussing something, you’re not paying attention to their words. Instead you busy yourself looking at the pretty pictures in a book on a desk nearby. You pay no mind to the idle sounds of the other scientists nearby as the work.
However, your attention is suddenly pulled by the pitter patter sound of hastily running feet and someone yelling “Spider get back here!”
Before you can turn around, something solid collides with your legs, causing you to drop the book as you fall to the floor, the solid thing landing on your legs.
“[Y/N]!” Your father is immediately by your side, gently picking you up as he puts you back on your feet carefully.
“I’m okay Dad,” you assure him. Didn’t even hurt. You look over and find Uncle Norm similarly lifting up someone. The someone that collided with you. It’s a child. A Human child.
“Spider you gotta be careful, you can’t just run into people like that. Now say sorry to [Y/N].” Uncle Norm chastises the child, Spider.
“Sowwy, I ram into yoo.” He says, his pronunciation a little off, but you understood him.
“Oh, I guess this is the first time the two of you have ever seen each other. [Y/N], this is Spider. Spider, this is [Y/N]. She’s my daughter. Say hello, [Y/N].” It is your Father that does the introductions.
“Hello! My name is [Y/N]! It’s nice to meet you Spider!” You beam at him. You didn’t expect him to speak Na’vi. Uncle Norm must be teaching him. You think hard and remember the Sky People greeting Uncle Norm showed you. Ah, right! A handshake! You stick out your hand confidently.
Spider looks at your hand as if unsure what to do. He looks back up to your face with a slight tilt to his head, a questioning look adorns his cute little face.
You giggle at his expression. Instead, you gesture with the traditional Oel ngati kameie hand motion. Spider smiles and copies you, even if the way he swings his arm is a bit off. You admire his hair. It is wild and golden like yours, though yours is a tad lighter.
“I like your hair.”
“Fanks. I like yor eyes. They pretty like strawberries.” You’re not sure what that last thing is. But that sounded like a nice thing so you say thank you.
It is from this tiny interaction that Spider becomes enraptured by you and your family. He’s seen Norm’s avatar, and the ones that walk around Hell’s Gate. But you? You and your father are different. You live in the Forest. And Spider LOVES the forest. He wishes Norm would let him run around outside and explore. “Maybe when you’re older,” he kept telling him.
And so begins months of learning the Sky People language from Uncle Norm and Father, while Spider is taught Na’vi by the two older males in tandem. Every chance you get, the two of you practice with each other. You speak English to him, and he Na’vi to you. It is a fun game.
It’s been about 4 years since then, now you’re both reasonably fluent in either language. Spider though seems much more content to speak Na’vi and that’s fine by you. Your siblings were eventually also taught the Sky People’s language to make communication between Humans, Dreamwalkers and Clan easier.
You continue to quietly watch your siblings play. And yes, you definitely consider Spider a younger brother. You don’t care that he is Human. Why should that matter? After all, your Dad used to be human. And even now, you understand that his body is that of a Dreamwalker.
A gentle breeze carries the laughter of your siblings to you. Their song dances around you, and you close your eyes and smile at the feeling. You could almost feel the Great Mother in the shades of the trees; sheltering you from the harshness of direct sunlight. Though you enjoy the kiss of sunlight as it seeps through the gaps between leaves, leaving warm and soft patterns across your skin.
Deciding you’ve had enough of watching and want to play in the water too, you sit up from your tree spot and make your way over to everyone else.
Spider is the first to notice your approach; thought it surely isn’t hard to miss your alabaster form against the greens of the forest.
“[Y/N]!!!” He yells excitedly and rushes to meet you part way into the water. Everyone else yells your name in greeting and follow him.
“Hello everyone!” You greet back and are soon tackled to the ground by a horde of toddlers. You giggle at their antics. Soon you all resume what ever game it is they were playing, lots of splashes and lots of laughter.
You couldn’t be happier.
---
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Aye yo wtf I had this exact problem today! I was editing stuff and JUST so happened to check links and realized they were broken! :/ Fixed now but wtf.
idk but for me every single link in your masterlist isn't working?
Oh no :( anyone else having the same issue??
Tbh I have no idea what to do or how to fix this, they still work for me 😵💫
We post dirty fanfic here Sir. My inbox is always open :)
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