#exotic equipment

[zationao3]

In the darkness brightly, ch 6

The one where Dean’s not so sure that fog is natural and what the hell are those tracks leading up from the water?!

Chapter 6: The yearning

In which Sam arrives in Fisherman’s Cove and where Dean and Cas completely give in

[thefirstknife]

Getting real sick of a certain subset of Destiny players complaining that it’s a baby game and crying to Bungie to nerf exotics and abilities when their ENTIRE POINT IS TO BE STRONG in specific ways as if they are being locked into using them.

IF YOU WANT AN EXTRA CHALLENGE STOP BEING SUCH A DPS GOBLIN AND JUST EQUIP SOMETHING THATS NOT TOP TIER META AND STOP COMPLAINING JESUS FUCKING CHRIST

MOOD. Go off.

It's incredibly annoying to me. They always use the argument of "the game should FORCE me to do things, I should not SELF-IMPOSE challenges." And like. ? I'm sorry but what? It's a video game for a big audience, it's here to be playable and accessible to the widest possible playerbase. There are plenty of ways to make the game difficult for yourself, so knock yourself out if that's your thing, but don't force others into it.

Like, I enjoy hard content, I regularly at least attempt day 1 raids, I do master raids, GMs, solo and solo flawless content and all that. But only when I want to. Sometimes I don't and I don't want to suffer in a patrol zone or struggle in a seasonal activity I'm doing for the story. The majority of the players don't want that. Designing games for the professional gamers only has NEVER been a good idea and never will be. Fifty streamers can't sustain a video game. It needs casual players who will want to come back to the game instead of feeling defeated.

One of the reasons I really enjoy helping others is because I know that casual players tend to struggle in stuff that's basic activity for me. I've seen people unable to get through a strike. I've sat for 10 minutes rezing someone who couldn't do the jump in a seasonal activity. I want those people to be able to play basic content without feeling frustrated and I want them to know that there are people out there who will help them out.

And this doesn't apply just to basic content, although it should start with that. I think all dungeons and raids and everything should be things that all players can complete. Fine, doing a master raid with all challenges should be tough, but it should be achievable with time and practice, not impossible. What a lot of these "pros" want is just completely divorced from reality.

It takes days and days of practice every time a new master raid is out for me and my team (all with thousands of hours of playtime) to get comfortable to finally finish it. We're far from casual players and it still takes a lot of time to be able to finish hard content. Making it even harder is insane to me. Like, if something is so hard that my team full of people, each with 5000+ hours of playtime and a coordinated team that's been raiding together for years now can't finish it, that means it's absolutely impossible for probably 90% of the playerbase. That's wild to me. Raids and GMs should have more people playing them. If master raids are too easy for you, Mr. I-Play-Destiny-For-A-Living, that's on you buddy. Unequip the super god tier god roll meta guns and loadouts or play something else.

And ofc, another excuse they make is "if I don't use meta, I am not going to win a raid race!" Then don't. Idk. Let me play you the tiniest violin. This affects literally nobody except a grand total of 50 people. Run your meta in day 1, and play with random shit otherwise. Play raids with all white weapons. Play without mods. Play without a HUD. Do things solo only. I don't know, make up a way to spice things up for yourself. I'm not interested in that and neither are 99% of the players out there. The game is genuinely hard enough for the majority of the players. On top of that, I am here to feel like a powerful space fantasy superhero. I am NOT here to die to dregs in patrol zones. If there's ONE thing that I know for a fact that put people off from Lightfall (as in this year of Destiny), it's the difficulty changes. They're annoying, frustrating and for some a barrier to entry more than anything else.

[cantsayidont]

June 1961. The preeminence of Lex Luthor's 1986 reinvention as a billionaire industrialist has created a lot of misconceptions about his pre-Crisis counterpart, a "renegade scientist" who spent as much time in prison as out of it. This Edmond Hamilton story from ACTION COMICS #277 presents a good summation of how Luthor was positioned narratively in the pre-Crisis period (1958–1986). Luthor, who we see is not popular even among his fellow inmates, is asked to use his scientific genius to prevent a catastrophic incident:

After saving the bomber, Luthor uses his anti-gravity ray to immobilize his guards, then carjacks Lois Lane to make his getaway. We then get our first glimpse of "Luthor's Lair," the villain's secret headquarters in Metropolis:

After touring his lair and getting a good night's sleep, during which he has a satisfying dream of defeating and humiliating Superman and his friends, Luthor devises a plan to rob Fort Knox. This succeeds marvelously: He uses a new shrinking ray inspired by his dream to shrink the guards, a "fourth-dimensional arm" to remove the bullion from the vaults, and "gimmicked trucks [that] can turn into planes" to carry the loot. When the commander of Fort Knox calls for Superman's help, Luthor is able to draw Superman away with a machine that creates what appear to be globes of Kryptonite (although they're actually "harmless fakes"). Afterward, Luthor is triumphant — but not for long:

A common complaint about the pre-Crisis Luthor (and other villains of his ilk) is that his plans make no sense because the super-scientific equipment he creates undoubtedly costs more than he could ever hope to recoup through the robberies he commits. (Stealing all the gold in Fort Knox might be an exception, but it's hard to see his being able to convert more than a fraction of the gold to liquid cash.) That's true so far as it goes, and it's a legitimate complaint about some of Luthor's '50s appearances, but this story, like many later Silver Age and Bronze Age Luthor stories, makes plain that money is really not what Luthor is after. He's driven mostly by ego, with his hatred of Superman functioning as a useful object for that drive. Interestingly, in Luthor's dream, when he has the Man of Steel at his mercy, Luthor can't make up his mind about what to do with his foe:

The Silver Age and Bronze Age stories generally present Luthor as a kind of quasi-hero. He exists in the same kind of demimonde of secret headquarters and fantastic gadgets as heroes like Batman, and like them, he applies his extraordinary skills not to conventional pursuits of wealth, power, or social progress, but to his own somewhat quixotic personal quests. It's true that his elaborate schemes seldom seem likely to make him any money, but that's equally true of Batman or the Silver Age Green Arrow, to say nothing of Superman — Superman could certainly engineer a more lavish lifestyle for Clark Kent than his Daily Planet salary provides, but he's never shown any interest in doing so, and people rarely question that.

Of course, Superman also performs various acts of heroism and altruism (not all of which involve fighting crime), but Silver Age stories repeatedly emphasize that Luthor can and occasionally does do that as well, and even when he has an ulterior motive, Luthor's efforts are usually surprisingly sincere. This is most evident in the stories set on Lexor, a distant world whose inhabitants think Luthor is a great hero, but even in this story, notice that Luthor does in fact save the bomber from crashing before using his device to escape. To the extent that the stories present Luthor as a tragic figure (which they do surprisingly often), the tragedy, as the unnamed government official remarks in this story, is that he only rarely applies his talents "to the good of mankind." On the other hand, that's also true of Batman and the rest of Superman's Justice League colleagues, who could certainly use their abilities to benefit society beyond simply fighting crime and upholding the status quo, but choose not to.

The pre-Crisis Luthor, then, is not simply a villain, but an inverted hero: His logic and his motivations are very similar to those of his superheroic counterparts, except that the (equally arbitrary) lines around what he is and isn't willing to do are drawn somewhat differently.

[untilthenexttee]

REVIEW - Tour Edge Exotics E723 Driver

“Forgiving as Family” The Address In 2023, Tour Edge Golf announced its family of Exotics 723 golf equipment. The range featured a few models of irons and metalwoods divided into two categories. First, is the “C” or Competitve Spec which is typically targeted towards the “better player” (my recent Exotics C723 driver review can be seen here). Secondly, there’s the “E” or Extreme Spec which is a…

[tumblrisweird]

For anyone wondering, my current character in Lancer (specifically our Dustgrave campaign) is named Sisyphus. He's an NHP that developed out of the muscle memory training system of an SSC Atlas. He's not human, but has the memories of several of them. We're halfway through the campaign, so he's LL3 now and I updated his sprite. Check it out.

[worldblight]

I know I'm the only guy like this but whenever I see a cat that looks like these

I'm always like cool cat bro. Btw how much do you exercise your hybrid beast. Would you say it's an indoor or outdoor cat. Do you ever have problems with it biting you or peeing on furniture. How much did you pay for it. Did you see the conditions in which it was bred in. Did you even ask.

[tickfleato]

"[x animal] is important to me and i love them" Okay then don't post pictures of people keeping them as exotic pets. Dipshit

it's a shame things went the way they did with the is-the-animal-media-cute blogs (i.e a few popular ones fucking constantly getting into stupid drama, a ton of memes popping up that kind of made them into a joke) because like. Those were genuinely useful i think for informing people about what is distinctly Not fucking good to see images/videos of online. i definitely see less of that kind of thing now than i did a few years ago but god it pisses me off

[tetedurfarm]

get started in meat rabbits masterpost!

yesterday i accidentally hijacked a friend's post and got way more engagement than i expected, which is both amazing and exhausting. so today i present to you: a big post full of resources and answers to the most common questions i've been getting! please refer to this now before dming me with questions <3

information below the cut!

why rabbits?

because they're one of (and in my opinion, THE,) best small-scale meat animal out there. they are relatively small, extremely quiet, can live in cages and therefore do not take up much space, and have a higher feed conversion rate (meaning they make more meat per lb of feed) than chickens, and their poop is AMAZING for gardening! in the footprint of a washer and dryer you can have a trio of breeding animals and space for growing out their litters if you use stacking cages. you just can't beat that.

what do they taste like?

like chicken or turkey. domestic rabbit meat is a very mild, white meat, and can be substituted for chicken in almost every meal. most of my rabbit i grind into mince and use it in place of ground beef. my rabbits, at least, get enough fat to make it unnecessary to cut the mince with pork or beef fat, so even the burgers are really juicy!

will you sell me some meat?

unfortunately in the state of washington it is illegal to sell meat that has been processed at home. at best i could sell you a whole rabbit but you'd have to butcher it yourself.

how much do they cost?

this depends heavily on where you live, though imo they have a fairly low upfront cost relative to other livestock. your biggest upfront expensive will be cages, though you can find good deals on cages and other equipment at livestock auctions/swaps and craiglist/kijiji/similar. the rabbits themselves can be anywhere from free to $100+, though i personally would not pay more than $30-$35 USD for a meat animal (but again, your average prices may vary.) after that, it's all in the price of feed.

feed costs vary from area to area and brand to brand - generally a locally milled feed will be a bit more cost-effective but they can also be lower quality so do your research. depending on your area, you can also feed rabbits partially or even completely on forage or pasture, just make sure you keep an eye on your parasite loads and weights to ensure they are eating enough.

this is a good site that discusses rabbit safe forage: https://riseandshinerabbitry.com/2012/02/26/safe-food-list-for-rabbits/

and this is a good site discussing hay: https://hoppyharlequinsrabbitry.weebly.com/hay-chart.html

this page is focused on other larger livestock but is a decent basic rundown on reading a feed lablel: https://s3.wp.wsu.edu/uploads/sites/2070/2023/03/FS138E_Reading-a-Feed-Tag.pdf

and a basic overview of rabbit nutrition: https://www.merckvetmanual.com/exotic-and-laboratory-animals/rabbits/nutrition-of-rabbits#Pelleted-Diets_v54343534

i do not personally believe that feeding hay is necessary for rabbits to be healthy, which is contrary to what most of you may have heard from online sources. we'll talk about that in a minute. all commercially-available pelleted rabbit feets are made with hay, and the 'long-stem' thing you read about is based on studies in ruminant animals that DO need a 'grass mat' to digest properly...but rabbits are not ruminants. they chew up their hay into fine dust, which is basically what pellets are anyway.

what other equipment do i need?

obviously, your first step should be cages. i prefer cages that are either 24x24 or 30x30 inches depending on the size of the rabbit. you generally want a cage big enough for the animal to lay flat on its belly with its legs out and not touch at least one of the sides (i prefer them to be able to touch none,) and tall enough that they can sit up comfortably. i like to err on the side of larger for breeding does, since their nestbox will take up floor space for a few weeks, and the kits need room to run around and grow before they are weaned. weaned kits need a larger cage or hutch to grow out in until they are eating size.

these cages can be wire bottomed or solid bottomed, just be aware of the hygiene differences between these styles of cages. wire cages are not evil, and will not harm a rabbit's feet provided it has proper density of fur. you can avoid foot problems by buying and breeding rabbits with well-furred feet.

other necessary equipment includes: feeders (j-feefers or pro-b feeders are my favourites), some way to provide water such as bottles, crocks, or an automatic watering system, a hay rack if you want to provide hay, grooming tools such as combs and brushes (if applicable; most rabbits will not need much grooming,) nail clippers, a first-aid kit containing things such as scissors, vet wrap, antibiotic gels and drops, saline solution, fenbendazole (brand name panacur, a dewormer,) gas medications such as simethicone/gas-x, critical care (a specially formulated powdered feed that you can mix into a gruel and syringe feed rabbits that won't eat on their own,) probiotic powder, electrolyte powder, and of course, toys!

make sure any provided toys are edible (so avoid plastic,) and will not get turned into mush and cause dirty mats in the cage when peed on. toilet paper and paper towel tubes are great, as are just chunks of untreated lumber offcuts, wooden baby blocks, or soda boxes. if you have some splurging money, bird toy websites like abirdtoy.com have amazing selections of things that rabbits love destroying. i recommend the refillable skewers!

what about vet care?

this is a fairly divisive topic. most vets do not know much about rabbits, and those that do are typically operating on outdated or simply untrue information that aligns with animal rights groups. therefore, a lot of meat and show breeders do not trust or use vets unless the situations are dire or there is disease testing to be done, and then generally we'll go to our state's ag exstension or college lab. i don't want to come off as anti-vet, i am far from it. but i and most people i know have not had good experiences with vets treating rabbits.

in general, exotic animal vet care (and yes, rabbits are considered exotic pets,) is extremely cost-prohibitive in general, much less when you have multiple animals. like most farmers, rabbit breeders typically handle basic medical situations ourselves.

medirabbit is a great resource for rabbit medical information including illnesses and medication dosages: https://www.medirabbit.com/

how many rabbits do i need?

the average litter size is between 5 and 8 kits, and rabbits can breed montly (though i recommend giving the girls breaks between litters depending on how they kept condition.) a trio of one buck and two does can produce a very good amount of meat for a one or two person household. my spouse and i lived on five or six litters a year for a very long time, using rabbit as our primary meat source!

do they need friends?

no. despite what house rabbit circles tell you, rabbits do NOT need companions and in fact having cagemates can stress them out unnecessarily. rabbits live in warrens in the wild, yes, but that is a survival tactic and the warrens are usually very violent and only work because they can run away when they need to. in capitivity, rabbits that are cohabitated can and commonly will KILL one another. it is much safer and less stressful to keep rabbits in their own spaces. i promise they won't mind.

rabbit colonies, where they are raised together in more 'natural' systems, are becoming very popular with homesteading circles but you should not jump into colonies as your first way to keep rabbits. they require just as much if not even more time and effort to manage than your typical cage setup. plus, you have to have the space to do that, which not everyone has.

can you help me find rabbits?

maybe! if you live in the united states and are comfortable sharing your local craigslist, i can take a look and link you to any rabbits or equipment i think would be worth your time. if you are local to me in western washington's i-5 corridor counties, i may have rabbits i can sell you for the price of feed and gas, but that depends on availability. if you are on the olympic peninsula in kitsam, jefferson, or clallam counties, hit up my buddy ren @buttonbuckfarm for similar services.

arent't they really fragile?

yes and no. rabbits are prey animals with an extremely specialised digestive system. if you are familiar with horses...same deal. if a rabbit stops eating, it will die, and they love bloating/colicking just like horses. there are also a few diseases that are common in rabbits that you should keep an eye out for, especially if you pasture or forage raise.

that being said, rabbits are not made of glass. you can flip them, you can poke them, prod them, put them in a car, drive them across the country, and squish them into weird shapes on a show table. as long as you take precautions during stressful situations and desensitise them to things like handling and transport early, they're shockingly physically hardy despite their sensitive guts.

i'm scared to kill them...what if i mess up?

it's perfectly understandable to fear the end of the process of raising rabbits. and accidents do happen. slaughter is a skill that must be practiced, and maybe you can take solace in knowing that we have all messed one up at some point or another. when this happens, the only thing you can do is try again as quickly as you can until you can confirm the animal is dead. and then take a minute to decompress.

it comes easy to me, but i know that is not true for everyone. but i am a firm believer that if you are going to eat meat, you should know where it comes from and how it gets to your plate. the best thing we can do for our food is to give it a wonderful life, kill as kindly as we can, and use as much of it as we are able.

here is the AVMA's list of approved humane slaughter methods: https://www.avma.org/sites/default/files/2020-02/Guidelines-on-Euthanasia-2020.pdf

and you can find pretty good videos of the various methods demonstrated on rabbits specifically on youtube:

broomstick, choke chain, bunny ballista, hopper popper

please be aware that the above videos show animals being killed. though if you are reading this i imagine you are prepared to see that.

how do i process them once they're dead?

this is another one you can find pretty good videos of online. visiting a local rabbit show may get you in contact with someone willing to teach you in person, as well!

i am working on a big project website that is basically all i think you should know about raising rabbits, which will include detailed slaughter, skinning, and butchering videos, though as of now these are not available. i plan to have this project at least usably done by the end of the year!

ok so what's the thing with pet owners vs breeders

you may have noticed that i've been doing some 'as you may have heard' debunking in this post. that's because there is a very huge divide between the beliefs and practices of pet rabbit owners versus show and meat breeders and owners. why? well, that's complicated, but the big bad evil guy that is the first place to point at is the House Rabbit Society, or HRS.

the house rabbit society is basically rabbit PETA. i am not joking. here is a big masterpost on all their bullshittery: https://www.tumblr.com/o-i-have-too/185596917579/a-masterpost-of-house-rabbit-society-bullshit

i know this comes off as me having an agenda, and i guess i can't say that i don't, but i believe that the HRS' rules and rhetoric are not just wrong they are actively dangerous to follow. i have owned rabbits for nearly a decade and have produced more somewhere in the 1,500 range of animals in that time. i have owned a LOT of rabbits and have experienced all the different ways they can thrive and die and have done a lot of experimenting to find what works. just about everything the HRS says about caring for rabbits is blatantly false according to my experience. proper wire cage floors do not destroy feet. rabbits do not need hay if they eat a good pelleted diet. pellets are not evil or 'fattening' or the main cause of stasis. rabbits do not need leafy greens or veggies. rabbits do not need to be bonded. they are perfectly happy living alone, in cages. flipping a rabbit is not torture and is in fact sometimes necessary for many reasons. meat and show breeders are generally not contributing to the 'overpopulation' problem - if we don't want an animal most of us just eat them. breeding for meat is not evil if it's done appropriately and they are killed humanely.

unfortunately the HRS won the google SEO game and so their website and the sites of others that believe their rhetoric are the only thing that comes up on the first pages of search results. i'm not saying you have to blindly trust me, but i have the experience, and the combined experience of many of my peers both online and offline, that says that basically everything they believe in and preach is just...not true.

anyway that's it, hope this answers most of your questions! i may add to this in the future depending on what other questions i may get. stay tuned for updates on my website project and in general more farm content, rabbit and otherwise :)

[mammalsofaction]

Y'know what would be really funny? If each of the Flynn Fletcher siblings KNOW/have suspicions about Perry's secret, but they each keep it to themselves for individual reasons. It's been pointed out before that Perry can get REALLY reckless sometimes, and other times the boys are too clever/know Perry way too well.

-CANDACE has actually seen and interacted with Perry in secret agent mode, particularly during the time she thought she was high off her rocker and Perry had to save her from a self destructing volcano. She's had dreams where Perry was a secret agent in them.

-She doesn't bring it up or think about it much bc she just has like. A lot of other more pressing priorities most of the time, which is so valid. Also I lowkey thinks she suspects she's got a hallucination problem, like with the Zebra? I get why she doesn't talk about it out loud: she sounds crazy enough to her mother as is without suddenly talking about how their exotic pet is a sentient secret agent in a fedora.

-FERB figured it out almost immediately that day he and Phineas accidentally fell into Perry's lair and they pretended to be "secret agents" for the day. HE knows he didnt make that lair. Everything was almost toddler sized, but functionally and professionally equipped for a working adult. There were only two "P" s in the family, and it clearly wasn't Phineas. Also? Everything was Platypus themed. He put two and two together.

-I figure he doesn't talk about it bc he lowkey knows why Perry doesn't tell them. He and Phineas have a lot of faith in Perry, and Ferb is a lot less emotional. If Perry refuses to tell them about his double life and where he goes, hes just gonna trust him.

-Im pretty sure PHINEAS subconsciously knows about the secret agent thing. From where? Africa. He 💯 spotted Perry in secret agent mode on the other side of the gulf while hanging from that vine, and between his siblings Phineas is CLEARLY the one who knows what Perry looks like best. He can pick Perry out from colour and smell from every other brown eyed teal platypus in the entire tri-state area. He not only recognizes his paw prints: he knows Perry's healthy weight distribution on them to know whether or not hes injured or limping. Like....my boy can be oblivious and autistic 98% of the time, but Phin is also REALLY self aware and trusting of his own eyes and instincts.

-He doesn't talk about it because hes in denial 👍

[zationao3]

In the darkness brightly, ch 1

The one where Dean’s not so sure that fog is natural and what the hell are those tracks leading up from the water?!

Chapter 1: Fisherman’s Cove

In which Dean arrive in Fisherman’s Cove and where Cas learns of a new possible threat to his tribe

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒 ❞

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!journalist reader

summary: a lil joke thing i wanted to write because homeboy is bringing home the big bucks 🤭

warnings: just read 🫵🏽 this is a crack fic lol

saint’s team radio 🎀: don’t take this all too seriously 😭 hope y’all enjoy plus who know i’ll actually make it into a thing 🧍🏽‍♀️

tags: @alika-4466 @purplelewlew @exotic-iris13 @arshiyuh @mauvecherie-writes @yeea-nah @youre-sooooo-funny @louvrepool @queenshikongo3 @cherry2stems @httpsserene @motheroffae

-

Being an independent journalist in this sport wasn’t easy at all but only within the parameters of any paddock around the world as most journalists rarely agreed with you, being neutral about anything in f1 wasn’t your thing.

Speaking your mind as the race went on was what set you apart from the rest, along with your humour and your honesty towards drivers and team principals. Not to mention you were extremely biased, keeping your liking to three to five drivers but only one occupied your mind every time you think about him.

I think you know who I’m talking about.

Your support for Lewis goes back to 2015, discovering the sport and immediately wanting to put your journalism skills to the test, aiming for the f1 paddock to at least catch a glimpse of the most talked about driver. Quickly building up a blog and several other social media accounts, you got to telling the world your thoughts and feelings for every race and your supporters rooted for you to achieve your goal.

Having the opportunity to attend thee race in 2020 as a guest of F1, you arrived at the Turkish Grand Prix with your head held high and a dress so gorgeous that it sparked rumours between you and the driver you were writing about. Not to mention the hug he gave you when you first met in the Mercedes garage, praising and thanking you for the support over the years. He’s been watching you and your work. That made your heart so warm.

Then he won his 7th world championship, breaking all records and that day, he deemed you his lucky charm.

And since then, it’s been a work wife-work husband friendship between you two. Fans constantly shipping you too, the clips of your shared interviews at the media pen of the intense eye contact and even off-track sightings once in a while such as a quick lunch.

yourusername • 13 mins ago

The atmosphere in Australia was unlike anything you’ve ever seen in your career, the paddock was practically painted red, Ferrari red to be specific. Everyone eager for Lewis to arrive as his first season as a driver for the legendary team.

Deciding to subtly support him and his new team, you rocked maroon everything, not yet ready to fully embrace the extreme bright red. It just might be your new favourite colour, from your hair right down to the tips of your high heeled boots.

Whilst setting your camera equipment up (gracefully given to you by Ferrari themselves), you couldn’t help but reminisce back to the year before of when he told you he was leaving Mercedes, a single facetime call in the nighttime.

“You made me pause the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills, this better be good.” You said, placing the popcorn bowl down on your coffee table. Giving him squinted eyes, he just smiled at you.

“Are you alone right now?” He asked and that set aback for a bit. “You tryna do something funny, Lewis? Because you’re in Monaco right now and I’m at my house.” You raised your eyebrow at him, hiding how nervous you were to even suggest that to him but thankfully, he took it as a joke.

“No no, I’ve got some big news and I wanted to tell you before it gets out.” He replied, seeing how you stood up and placed your phone on your kitchen counter to prepare for this. “Okay, I’m ready. What’s up?” You clasped your hands together, not prepared to hear what came out of his mouth next.

“I’m moving to Ferrari next year.”

“You’re lying.” And all he did was smile as he saw your face drop at this news. He shook his head and that woke you to run around your apartment screaming. Running back to your phone, he was still there but just laughing his lungs out.

“Give me the details right now or else I’ll fly there. I’m not playing, Lew.”

A small smile was plastered on your face as you racked through the memories of that night and till that day, you still couldn’t believe it even though it was right in front of you. The media pen became louder and louder as you continued to mic yourself up along with connecting the mic to the camera and you immediately knew who caused the stir.

He already had such an aura surrounding him so much so that you could feel him whenever he entered the room. You were aware he arrived earlier and most likely changed but seeing the official team shirt on him was odd but fitting.

Lewis had a simple routine whenever he got to the media pen: everyone else then you because his time with you could be lengthened and he was so damn grateful that it was a Thursday because it meant even more time just walking around the paddock pretending it’s an interview when really, you guys were just spending time together.

After all the drivers had their interviews with you, laughing as they walked away because of some joke you told or happy that you asked different questions than everyone else. The man of the hour strolled over to your section with a look in his eye that gave you a shiver down your spine.

“Do not give me that look, Lewis. It’s weird seeing you in that shirt.” You said as he leaned against the barricade, maintaining eye contact with you. “I’m just taking in the red on you, it’s your colour.” He smirked at the reaction from you, the slight shock from the tone of his voice.

There was always a tad bit of tension between the two of you, feeling that twinge of a spark whenever he merely touched you. As you worked with over the years, you wanted your crush on him to diminish because that would just be unprofessional but he did not seem to care. At all. Often being spotted at various places together that he claimed were just two friends hanging out but just one look from him could have you in the clouds of days.

“Uh..huh. Wanna get these questions done or you wanna keep staring?” You asked with sass, watching him tilt his head a little and maintaining eye contact. “We can go right ahead, Y/n.” Lewis replied and you knew this was going to be a long interview.

Several questions later with a bunch of tension that you were sure the viewers would catch, you discreetly turned the camera to ask one of your infamous unserious questions that you did with every driver and you were sure this one were to get a laugh out of Lewis.

Holding the little card in front of you, you grinned with your left eye closing slightly more than the other. “It’s one of my favourite parts of any interview, unserious question time.” You said. “How unserious are we speaking here?” He asked with the slightest grin on his face just admiring you do your job.

“Only if you promise to answer it.” You said, holding out your manicured pinkie finger and Lewis hooked his with yours, solidifying the promise. “Okay okay, the whole world was shocked on how much Ferrari wanted you so much so that they literally doubled your salary.” You started.

“It’s now sitting at a hundred million a year. My question to you is who you gonna share it with and will it be me?”

“If you’re being serious, then it can be you.” He smiled and in that moment, your stomach dropped.

“Carl Davidson, I’m not playing around. Are you being for real?” You asked, lowering your voice so that no one could hear a thing.

He leaned in a bit more to whisper his next answer. “As real as you meeting me later on for dinner.” Lewis faced you then winked, walking away with your face still in shock. After standing there for what felt like forever, you felt your phone vibrate with a text from the man himself.

lew <3

you look gorgeous in red btw

-

yourusername

liked by theestallion, f1wags and 43,747 others

yourusername “anything you want, princess” — lewis hamilton.

view comments

user give me your game card

user you’re eating the red wig DOWN

spinzbeatsinc oh for him to buy me a g wagon

yourusername you already have one???

user you gold digging bitch

user no ways 😭

user not you using him for his money

user think about it, what is he gonna do with so much??

fan she got the chance and she took it, i gotta respect it

user i hope this is a hard launch because i’ve been shipping these two for YEARS

user me too!!

lewishamilton just say the word 🫡

yourusername 🤭🤭🤭🤭

saint’s team radio (again) 🎀: hope you all enjoyed! again, this is like a crack fic lol. there’s so many stories that’ll be released soon i’m excited 🥹 okay bye!

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐀 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬 | 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐆𝐢 ♡

Day Twenty One - Sex pollen

【Synopsis】 : It's just one quick to your home planet. It's just one dangerous plant for collection. Nothing can go wrong, right... right?

『Word count』 : 4.16k

-> Genre: Smut. Sci-fi. Alien Au.

Pairing: Human!JongGi x Alien!Reader 

[Warnings] : Swearing. Dirty talk. Clumsy Mingi. Friends who wanna fuck? Kissing. Double penetration. Multiple orgasms. Fingering. Spanking. Unprotected sex. Dub-con (cause you... exotic sex potent plant). Pet names. Both boys are well off, hehe. Some sappy moments with a light sprinkle of angst.

Network: @wonderlandnet @illusionnet @cromernet @k-vanity

Note: Thank you again, my baby, @skteezcursed for the brainstorming. Hehe. You helped me so much with so many days, I swear to god. Idk how to repay you. ♡ i love you so much.

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober list | Tip Jar ♡

You stared out the viewport of the cargo ship as it travelled at speed unimaginable through the cosmos. The familiar colours and stars of your galaxy were in the shimmering distance. That's when you spotted your home, Xyphor, excitement bubbling in your gut as you quickly looked over to the men beside you. Jongo and Mingi, two of your closest friends, by your side to see your home for the first time. 

Your mission was simple: pick up one of the rarest plants that is native to Xyphor and deliver it to the research facility in the other star system. The base where you and your team are located. You sighed at the thought. It wasn’t just any plant, and this mission had to be performed delicately. You were starting to doubt Captain Hongjoongs choice to give you Mingi. But alas, you did need the muscle, so maybe it wouldn't be that bad. 

Looking over the papers on the desk beside you. You took in the sketches you had done of the plant. The Blumina blossom is known for its vibrant colours and unique properties. It was said to bloom once every three decades and had the most potent pollen in the surrounding galaxies—a fact you were all too familiar with having studied the flora and fauna on your plant since you were young.

"You ready for this?" Jongho's voice scared you for a moment, making you jump from your thoughts. You watched as he tightened the straps on his gloves.

"Of course." You smiled, your tone lacing with excitement, as you checked your equipment once more on your belt, trying to find something to fiddle with to calm your nerves. “How could we say no to a trip to my home planet?”

“It'll be like a walk in the park!” Mingi added, a little bit too carefree as he hoisted the cargo containment canisters, airtight glass vessels designed to hold the Blumina Blossom securely. 

You felt a momentary pang of worry surge through your body. “Just be careful with that, Mingi. It’s very fragile.” Your hands instantly come up as if to help the tall man. Jongho just laughed, heading back over to the cockpit to turn the autopilot off so he could land the ship on at the station fill-up stop.

Mingi waved you off, a tremendously confident grin plastered across his face as if he wouldn't take his eyes off you. “Pfft! Don’t worry about me., Dollface” He gingerly walked toward the cargo bay, which was filled with a mix of excitement and tension. Mingi was known to tease you with his clumsiness, throwing stuff around carelessly just to see your shocked reaction. But he always managed to still break something by the end of it, so you could see why your worries were always so high, and your expectations ran low.

"I'll always worry about you..." You groaned lightly while pinching the bridge of your nose before heading over to the cockpit so you could take your navigator's seat next to Jongho. The landing was smooth, just like Jongho's lands in the previous times you've rode with him. And the moment you all arrived on Xyphor, the beauty of the planet struck in your hearts like seeing a new colour for the first time. Oh, how you've missed it. Stepping out of the ship, you take in the vibrant landscapes. The endless hills and forestry were nothing but mesmerising. However, your focus was quick to shift back onto the assignment. Pushing both men towards the exotic greenhouse, where the Blumina Blossom could finally be found. Already trimmed and ready for departure, among a few other non-toxic plant life that was also being exported.

“Here it is!” You pointed, your voice filled with enthusiasm as you approached the display of beautiful flowers, spotting the small hypnotising purple-leafed flower in the centre. Turning your back to it you open the menu log on the tablet that sat on the table beside the display case, examining the instructions for safely extracting. That was when you noticed Mingi stepping a little too close for your comfort, his nose just barely brushing the thin glass cabinet, eyes widening with curiosity.

“Just a second, Mingi!” You exclaimed, but it was too late. With a careless twist, Mingi's nose bumped the glass, making the whole container shake, and before he knew it, the press-to-open glass door swung open leaving him vulnerable in front of all the exotic plants that his body would not be accustomed to. The plants, all suddenly agitated by his presence, swayed, and the Blumina released a cloud of bright lilac pollen, enveloping him in a sparkling haze.

“Mingi, no!” You shouted, rushing over to try to pull him back. 

"Hey guys there's a...oh my god!!” Jongho gasps as his jaw hangs open to see the large man stepping back towards him in a quick haste. In panic, Mingi bumped into Jongho, who had been working outside the containment to look over and try to figure out just how to navigate the alarming situation. The new fresh container slipped from Jongho’s grasp, and in a flurry, it shattered on the ground.

“No!” Your heart raced as pollen erupted into the room, showering all of you in a thick fog. You swiftly closed your eyes, instinctively leaning away, but it was too late, some of the pollen was already in your system, along with both men as Mingi had already inhaled deeply prior, eyes widening as he staggered backwards and Jongho caught a puff of pollen while he instinctively reached for his teammate. Your effort to quickly pull them both away was deemed useless as the damage was already done.

“Ugh, it burns!” Jongho gasped, wiping his forehead in a sudden cold sweat. Mingi was fanning his face, his expression shifting from confused to wild-eyed.

“What is happening?” Mingi stammered, shaking his head as if trying to clear the fog, almost entranced by swirling particles around him.

You tried to gather your bearings, brushing your limbs over to get the pollen off your slightly bluish skin. Shaking your head you could feel your horns tangled slightly in your hair, “This isn’t good. The Blumina Blossom’s pollen is potent and—” You gulp, your vision clearing as you see both men on the floor in confusion.

“It’s making me feel… funny,” Jongho chimed in, a blush creeping up his neck, his breath coming out in rapid puffs.

Suddenly, Mingi grabbed Jongho’s arm. “I feel really warm. Like, really warm,” he said, his eyes darting around, pupils dilating to almost consume his brown gaze completely. “..I think…” he trailed off, gulping audibly as confusion melted into something more primal. His gaze suddenly snapped to you.

“You both are gonna start experiencing the symptoms.” You rushed as reality hit you like a storm, turning for the rows of cupboards, opening each door in quickened anxiety. Your friends weren’t native, so you’ve never seen or known another creature other than a Xyphorian and other nearby lifeforms to have ever been in contact with the flora before.., “The plant’s pollen has intoxicating properties. It activates…” You took a hitched breath as you began to throw bottles and anything that was in your way, reading each label before discarding it if it wasn't what you were looking for.

“Just tell us!” Mingi shouted, growing in worry. Jongho managed to stand, using the various tables and shelves to wobble to you. His blazing hot hand touched your slightly warm skin making you jump, finally turning to him with tears in your eyes.

“What is going to happen to us? What does this plant do?.” Jongho tried his best to keep his voice stable but you could hear the slight crack in it.

 Realising how awkward it sounded but pressed on, snapping your gazes to Mingi, back to Jongho as you knitted your brows. “It activates mating instincts…”

The boys’ eyes widened, their brains finally catching up with the reality of their situation. It was a sexually heightening pollen. A plant genetic that is usually only used by people native to the plant and since Mingi and Jongho were only human Mars-born, the alien properties would most likely be much worse than when a native, like yourself, gets infected. “O-okay…”

Jongho tried to think for a moment, keeping his hand on your shoulder as he swallowed the growing ball of saliva in his mouth, “What can we do.”

“There might be an antigen but preparing it will take too long and by then you both will….” You covered your mouth, feeling as if you were going to be sick. Jongho moved to hold both of your shoulders, feeling sharp pains shoot up his spine as his cock was growing harder and harder by the second. But he tried to comfort you, he needed to. 

“What is the other option? Come on Honey, what are you not telling us?”

“You can…” Your eyes met his and all of a sudden every word you spoke became very, very real. “M-mate…with me.” 

“Okay, let's do that, we’ll—” Jongho became flustered, his gaze avoiding yours as he couldn’t seem to finish his sentence, his attraction to you evident in his fiery eyes as he looked over to Mingi.

“Me too! I mean, I’ve thought about…A lot” Mingi’s voice cut in, vibrating with urgency as he palmed his cock slightly “But, Doll, uh..only if you want to..”

“I don’t really have a choice, Mingi.” You snapped, feeling yourself grow hotter and hotter by the second, even though you didn’t feel the symptoms as strongly as them. You blinked through watery lashes, your heart racing as you tried to handle the escalating emotions of your friends, their confessions surprising yet stirring something within you. You had dreamt of this confession, but it had happened so differently in your mind than what the universe had planned it seems. You wanted it to be filled with laughter, soft lingering touches, and passion. Not raw desperation and two of their lives hanging in the balance. And little did you know, with each word they uttered and every passing second, the symptoms worsened, clouding their judgement and inhibitions and making their tongue loosen.

Before you could fully register what was happening, Mingi had gotten up off the floor to step closer, invading your personal space in the blink of an eye. “Doll, please,” he urged, his voice low, filled with need.

“Just—give me a moment to think!” You closed your eyes, voice stammered, but your mind was clouding, too. Your needs taking control. The boys were handsome, their eyes aflame with desperation, and with your own feelings growing, you felt on the precipice of a decision that could change everything. "Mating in my culture is sacred. The pollen is normally used for royals on their wedding nights… it's just…” You felt an overwhelming sense of pain surge through you knowing your history, your ancestry and everything you had wished for since you were young has now been thrown out the window. And it wasn’t that you were unhappy you would have to mate with either of them. You just never would have thought it would have ended up this way. “I don't want to fuck anything up. Our friendship... It's everything to me."

You looked through a hazy stare from Jongho to Mingi, their need palpable like a magnetic pull. In that moment, with hearts racing and pheromones making a heady mix, you wanted to give in. Embracing the chaos of the moment, you couldn't help but step forward, blending your body against Mingi's, feeling the heat radiate off him. Jongho quickly came up behind you, his lips finding your shoulder as he whispered. "None of this will ruin our friendship. And we understand. We are not Xyphorian, we don’t share the same history and views on sex and mating. But know, we love you in more ways than you could ever imagine. You want to stay friends after this, perfect, we can go on as if this was just another one of Mingi's clumsy mistakes. But if you're willing, Mingi and I have wanted nothing more than to have you as ours for a long time..."

"I don't want this to be a mistake... There are no mistakes when it comes to either of you." You leaned to the side to let Jongho have his way with your skin, littering you with gentle kisses. Mingi's hands snake up to grab your hips, his breath pooling on your lips as you are now inches from him. "I want you both... more than friends.”

That was the green light both men were searching for, both nodding eagerly as the fog completely consumed them. "Let's get back to the ship."

Jongho quickly took in Mingi's words, leaning down to spin you around before picking you up over his shoulder. Your shorts were slowly riding up to expose your ass and Mingi instantly took notice of this, swearing under his breath as his fingers touched your blue flesh, pinching your cheeks delicately. Your yelp made them chuckle, watching Jongho bring up his hand to the slit of your ass cheeks, moving the rough fabric of your pants and panties out of the way to expose the wet slick leaking from your clenching hole. "Fucking hell."

"Let's start getting you ready Honey." Jongho slipped his pointer and middle finger inside you with ease, drawing a long staggering whine from you. Mingi wide-stepped until he was behind you both, your face at perfect height level for him to grab you in an awkward but exciting kiss. Your whines were swallowed by Mingi as you felt Jongho pumper in a sporadic rhythm, more focused on not dropping you than fingering your tight hole. “Fuck she’s squeezing me.”

“I can’t wait to feel you around me. I feel like I'm gonna explode any second.” Mingi’s voice stuttered against your swollen lips as they quickly headed for the bedroom quarter in the ship, never leaving your cunt or mouth for a second. It wasn't until they made it to Mingi's quarters that they let you breathe, throwing you onto the bed as if you weighed nothing. You knew Jongho was strong, but this was definitely an eye-opener. Your eyes wandered over both of them, taking note of the sweat practically dripping off their faces onto their clothing while their cheeks were flustered and their breaths were staggering. The symptoms were increasing by the second but you had to admit both of them seemed to be holding it together far better than anyone you’ve seen in the past. Normally most half-Xyphorian or other outer world men and women would be crying, begging messes by now, needing to be filled, stuffed or to empty their load. But, No, Mingi and Jongho were in fact, acting more like full-blooded Xyphorians. As if the lingering fiery feeling in their gut wasn't causing a pain unimaginable to surge through their simple human bodies. 

They were a lot stronger than you thought.

But in truth they were both about to lose it if they didn't have their way with you in the next few moments. But it was their compassion, their love to make sure you were okay with everything that kept them from pressing further. The ball was in your court and you chose to push both of them, slipping out of your shorts and shirt effortlessly. Their eyes never left your body as you went to unclip the back of your bra. “Fuck if I wasn't feeling like my skin was on fire I’d enjoy this show a lot more.” 

“I have to agree, Min. Our girl is giving us a perfect show but yet this silly plant has made our patience wear thin.” Jongho’s grunt was nothing you’d ever heard before, coming from the man. His voice, normally smooth and buttery, was now gravelled and lustful. He was quick to grab your ankles, yanking you towards the edge of the bed until your legs hung on either side of his thick frame. Your eyes bored holes into Jongho’s figure as he ridded himself of his shirt and pants. Mingi was right beside him also doing the same. Everything was happening so fast, but the growing fire in their guts was telling them it was not fast enough. 

Jongho’s fingers found the band on your panties, pulling the fabric taut until he could hear a rip before it snapped cleanly in two. You have never seen a hotter thing in your life, “Fuck Jongho…”

“Don’t worry honey, I'll make sure we have our full.” The pollen has completely consumed them now, the only thoughts clouding their minds was filling you up with their seed. The need to breed reaching its peak. Mingi took a seat next to your head on the soft bed, his cock merely inches from your face but it was Jongho who took your thoughts as the tip of his dick smacked lightly against your exposed cunt. “Take a deep breath, baby.”

You obeyed, feeling Jongho sink completely inside you, hard and in one rough thrust. All the extra slick your body had created from the ingestion of pollen had made it easier for Jongho to snuggle right inside your quivering hole. With a clammy palm he wiped his brow of sweat, bringing your left leg over his shoulder, while the right found place tightly wrapped around his waist. His hand gripped your knee tightly as he began to drill inside you forcibly, almost knocking out the air in your lungs.

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” You screamed, never feeling such an intense feeling before. You’ve had sex before in your life but there was something about the mating ritual, along with the pollen that had made this experience all the more heightened and erotic. Your hand instinctively went beside you, finding Mingi’s angry red cock waiting. You grabbed the base of the shaft tightly, making the poor human whimper out a high-pitched sob. Just the feeling of your delicate fingers was almost enough to make him empty his load. But he bit back another sob as your mouth kissed along each vein, your tongue curling around him, lubing his cock up with your saliva. Mingi’s hand which wasn’t holding him up, found a place on your breast, squeezing and pinching the flesh roughly between his calloused fingers, causing your hips to buck and your mind to grow more foggy by the extra stimulation.

It didn’t take long for Jongho’s hips to stutter,  the heat circling in his body began to migrate from all parts of him to just his gut, feeling the twist and twine of desire forming into a tight band, “Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer, Honey. I need you to cum for me so I empty my load into your pretty pussy. Do you think you can do that for me, baby?”

“Fuck, nmargh.” You cried, feeling his hips slap more firmly against you. Never in your life would you have taken Jongho, sweet quiet Jongho to be a filthy talker. A part of you wondered if it was the pollen making him say such things or not but his thumb found your clit you no longer care for the answer. “I’m gonna…”

You didn’t finish your sentence, your hand tightening around Mingi’s cock while your mouth fell back onto it in a heated haze of desire. Your walls clenched around Jongho, sucking him in as he snapped his hips in a staggering rhythm. Snap, pauce, snap pause. His balls hitting your ass every time as his pelvis lands flush against you. Jongho came to a stop, his fingers rubbing you in tight circles to draw out your climax while he came deep inside you, filling you up with his never-ending cum. “God, your cunt is sucking me in baby. So, argh, fucking…” He drilled his hips a few more times, “Tight…”

Mingi quickly got up in an almost drunken haze, your watery eyes open just ajar to see, both men switch their positions. Jongho, dropped your aching legs to fall beside you on the large bed while Mingi seemingly took Jongho’s old place. “Come here, Honey.” Jongho’s sombrous voice drew your attention as he grabbed you under your arms to pull you up with no effort until you were lying on top of him. Your back snuggly against his chest. His large hand cupped your chin, tilting your head to his so his mouth could find yours. His free hand reached up to your little horns, successfully holding you in place. 

Mingi, on the other hand, leaned forward between your legs so he could latch his mouth against your nipples, littering your chest with sloppy wet kisses and nibbles. Your breasts were completely covered with marks before Mingi deemed himself ready to move, sitting up straight so he was in line with your soaked cunt. He sunk in with one long, desperate thrust, letting all his girth slip inside you. Your whines were quickly swallowed by Jongho as Mingi began drilling into you without any warning. The sting was pleasuring, clenching tightly around his thick length, trying desperately to get used to his longer size. 

"Fuck this is the most perfect fucking pussy." It was Mingi's turn now to spill filth, bringing both of your legs over his shoulders so he could bend you in half, fucking your deeper and fuller. "Shit, I'm not gonna last. Fuck, fuck."

The pollen had seemingly shortened their length of lasting to a climax but almost tripled their stamina. You could feel Jonghos angrily hard cock flushed against you while he felt the brew of fire in his gut creeping its way back. So it was going to take more than one load to get the pollen out of their system, it seemed. Mingi felt tears prick the corners of his eyes as he hiccuped a whine. He wanted to last longer. He needed to, but you were so warm, so tight and welcoming. Everything about your pretty body was too perfect, making his hips stutter and legs shake. 

"Fuck I'm sorry I'm, nargh c..coming, shit." Mingi gasped stilling his hips to empty his thick ropes into your gummy walls, basking in the way you flutter against him as you felt yourself get filled to the brim. 

"Mingi...Jongho..." You pleaded, needing to let go yourself. You were so close, but you needed more. More of them. "P-please.."

Jongho heard your cries and quickly jumped into action, shifting down while spreading his legs so he could plant his left foot up, angling you so the tip of his cock was pressed firmly against where Mingi was still connected to you. His lips tickled your ear as he grunted against you. "Take a deep breath, baby."

You listened with a sharp scream as you felt Jongho sink into your sensitive hole, stretching you out to fit snuggly beside Mingi. Both men couldn't help but choke out groans of their own, Mingi whining your name on repeat while Jongho's pants got deeper and faster. The sensation of both of their cocks inside you was enough to get you to come then and there but it was when they started moving that your mind seemed to snap. "Fuck, so b-big. So much. Fuck, Min, Jjong. Nnargnng~."

They fucked you at different paces, feeling each other slide against one another. Letting both men feel each ridge and vein of the other. Your hand flew to your clit, rubbing tight circles as you felt yourself tip of the edge. "Fucckkk."

Your juices came out quicker than a waterfall, damping the sheets, both men and some of the floor. The way your pussy clamped down causes both of them to drive their cocks in you at a speed that causes the air to get hitched in your lungs with a silent scream. The feeling of them emptying their seed deep inside you at the same time caused your eyes to roll back and a shiver down your spine. Mingi and Jongho slowed their thrusts until they both came to a complete stop, the firing sensation prickling under your skin finally dying down. There was finally a moment of peace as the pollen began to dissipate from your systems. Your face squashed against Jongho's sweaty chest, letting you find comfort in his strong heartbeat, taking in his scent while you felt Mingi lean down, kissing along your neck lazily. 

In the end, the Blumina Blossom might have caused a mess, but it opened the door to an adventure that was both unexpected and embraced with open hearts. And as stars twinkled outside the hull of the ship, showing the evening transition to night, you, Jongho, and Mingi nestled closer stealing the heat from one another as sleep was quick to take hold of your aching limbs.

[untilthenexttee]

Review - Tour Edge Exotics C723 Fairway Metals

“Flight Tuning System Magic” The Address Sometimes when we play golf, our driver doesn’t want to cooperate with us. So, when the “big dog” doesn’t want to eat, we need something reliable to get us off of the golf course for the rest of our remaining holes and on to the driving range to work things out. For tomorrow is a new day and a new round. What do you typically turn to in your time of…

[paper-mario-wiki]

to me, Science is just difficult to understand magic.

i mean this in the sense that, comparitively, magic in fantasy settings is typically understood down to a minute level without any sort of precision equipment to measure or quantify it, outside of vague "this orb tells us how much magic there is". the mechanics of it are left at least somewhat ambiguous, and the implication is that the laws of the universe, through some means, was consciously revealed to inhabitants of the world.

in our world-- the real world-- magic does not want to explain itself to us. it's just out there, in all its exotic majesty. and we've only been able to really crack into it in ways that are truly magical in the past two centuries.

[rod-tf]

New Gym, New Life

*This is my first story ever and english is not my first language so if there are any mistakes, I'm sorry. I hope you enjoy it!* -Rafi💚

Daniel and Alex had been together for five years, living happily in their cozy apartment in the city. Both in their late twenties, they prided themselves on staying fit and healthy.

When a new gym opened just a few blocks away, they decided to check it out. The gym, named "Sahara Fitness", had a unique and exotic vibe, with its rich gold and deep red color scheme, intricate geometric patterns, and Arabic calligraphy adorning the walls.

As they walked in, they noticed that all the staff and trainers were Arab men; tall, muscular, and radiating confidence and masculinity. They greeted Daniel and Alex with warm smiles, their deep voices resonating through the gym. Despite the clear cultural influence, the place seemed modern and well-equipped.

"Welcome to Sahara Fitness," one of the trainers, Malik, said in a thick accent. "You two look like you already know your way around a gym, but we like to offer something special to our new members. A gift to help you get the most out of your workout."

He handed them each a small, ornate container filled with a dark, powdery supplement. "This is a traditional blend, used for centuries to enhance strength and endurance. Try it out during your workout, and you'll feel the difference."

Daniel and Alex exchanged a glance. They were a bit skeptical but intrigued. They had tried all kinds of supplements before, so they figured it couldn’t hurt to try something new. Thanking Malik, they headed to the locker room to change.

Dressed in their usual gym gear, the couple mixed the supplement into their water bottles and sipped. The taste was strong, almost spicy, with a hint of something they couldn’t quite place. Shrugging it off, they began their workout routine, starting with some light cardio before moving on to weights.

As they started lifting, both noticed an unusual burst of energy coursing through their bodies. The weights felt lighter, their movements smoother. They exchanged a surprised look but continued their sets, pushing themselves harder than usual.

After a while, they noticed something even stranger. Their bodies began to feel different—stronger, more powerful. Alex glanced at his reflection in the mirror and did a double-take. His usually slim frame was starting to bulk up, and his muscles were swelling with each rep. His fair skin seemed to be taking on a slightly tanned hue, and his facial hair usually trimmed and light, was darkening and thickening.

"Dan, are you seeing this?" Alex whispered, his voice sounding deeper than usual.

Daniel, too, was undergoing a transformation. His once smooth face was shadowed with a thickening beard, his jawline sharpening. His normally light hair was darkening to a rich, deep brown, and his skin was also taking on a more olive tone.

They both felt a strange warmth spreading through them, almost like a fire igniting from within. Their minds began to feel fuzzy, thoughts of their usual life together growing distant. Instead, they were filled with an intense, almost primal desire to lift more, grow stronger, and assert their newfound masculinity.

As they continued working out, their transformations became more pronounced. Their bodies grew more muscular, their chests broadening, arms bulging with veins as their biceps swelled. The hair on their bodies thickened, and their once soft features became rugged and masculine. The changes weren't just physical; their minds were altering too.

Daniel, now with a full, dark beard and intense eyes, glanced at a group of women working out nearby. He felt an overwhelming attraction towards them, something he'd never experienced before. The thought of Alex, his partner, seemed oddly foreign, replaced by a burning desire to dominate, to conquer.

Alex, too, felt a shift. His mind, once full of love and tenderness for Daniel, was now clouded with lustful thoughts. But he wasn't thinking about Daniel; it was women with soft curves and alluring smiles. The idea of being with a man seemed almost laughable now.

They both finished their workout, breathing heavily, sweat dripping from their now muscular, tanned bodies. The gym’s atmosphere, once just a backdrop, now felt like home, where they belonged and could be their true selves.

As they headed back to the locker room, they caught sight of themselves in the mirror. Gone were Daniel and Alex, the cute, loving couple who had walked in earlier. In their place stood two Arab alpha males, their bodies sculpted and powerful, exuding raw masculinity. Their eyes were dark and intense, their gazes filled with a new hunger.

Malik appeared behind them, a knowing smile on his face. "Ah, I see the supplement has worked well. Welcome, brothers. You are now part of our tribe, our brotherhood. The old you is gone. You are reborn, stronger, and more powerful than ever."

Daniel, now calling himself Daoud, and Alex, now Ali, looked at each other and nodded. They felt no fear, no regret only acceptance and excitement. They had been transformed, not just physically but mentally. The bond they once shared as lovers was replaced with a new bond, brotherhood. And with it came a shared obsession, a desire for women that burned within them like never before.

"Bro, I can't believe how good this feels. I don't even know why we were ever together like that," Ali said, his eyes flickering with a new, primal energy.

Daoud smirked, flexing his arms, feeling the surge of power coursing through his veins. "Yeah, man. What were we thinking? This is what real life is about. We were just... confused before." He looked at the women working out nearby, his gaze filled with hunger. "Now, it's all about the chase, the thrill."

Ali nodded in agreement, his thoughts aligned with Daoud's. "Exactly, bro. Chicks, muscles, and dominating life. That's what we were meant for."

Daoud clapped on Ali's back, their bond now one of brotherhood and shared desires. "Let's go, man. Time to show the world what real men are made of."

They dressed in new clothes provided by the gym. traditional but modern arab-inspired attire that accentuated their muscular frames. As they walked out of the gym, they felt like kings, ready to conquer the world outside. Women turned to look at them, drawn to their confidence and masculinity. And as they exchanged a knowing glance, they knew that their lives had changed forever.

No longer the gentle, loving couple they once were, Daoud and Ali were now straight, Arab studs, obsessed with their newfound masculinity and the thrill of chasing after women.

[makoodles]

ミdaddy issues

part one | part two

🍓pairing: recom!miles quaritch x human fem reader

🍓tags: nsfw, interspecies relationship, jealousy, some mild unwanted touching (not quaritch) second-hand embarrassment, rough face-sitting, p in v sex, size kink

masterlist

For several days after your little rendezvous with Quaritch, you’re practically walking on air. You may be walking with a slight limp, but still – you’ve never been so satisfied in your whole life. 

Not only have you just had very good sex with the man you’ve been crushing on for months, but the science guys that have been snickering over your embarrassing interest in Quaritch have been rather remarkably silent since. You’re not even as embarrassed as you think you should be, considering all of your co-workers overheard you getting absolutely pounded into the floor by the Colonel; and you know you weren’t quiet about it, either.

You’ve even been able to cover significant ground with your dissertation – thanks to the sample that Quaritch had so generously provided you with, you’ve been able to run tests that you’ve dreaming of for weeks now. The data generated meant that you were able to nearly finish your dissertation.

Things are good. At least, mostly.

That one steamy encounter in your lab certainly isn’t the only one you end up having with Quaritch. In the weeks that follow, you boldly search him out several times during the breaks you take from your research. Once or twice, he’s even come looking for you in the lab. But most often, you find him and he ends up in your quarters – there’s something so thrilling about having him there, so big and exotically alien with all of his intense focus on you. You get so delightfully familiar with his mouth, his rough textured tongue, his enormous ridged cock, his large, thick-fingered hands. 

You could never have dreamed of your silly crush blooming into this with him, soft touches in the privacy of your quarters as he holds you to his big chest after fucking you so good that you practically go cross-eyed. You love having him in your quarters; it’s always a little comical to see his enormous body all curled up on your little human-sized bed, after all. In those quiet moments after sex, you’re able to delight in sharing skin to skin contact with him as he strokes over your much smaller body. It’s peaceful.

The only thing is, other than your little encounters, you hardly see Quaritch at all.

The recoms are busy, you know that, and often they’re sent out into the wilds of Pandora for days or even weeks at a time. Quaritch is an important man, and he’s got a lot on his plate. So for the most part, you only really see him from a distance. 

And it’s fine, really. It’s not like you had really expected things to change dramatically between you. He had told you very clearly that he wasn’t looking for anything romantic or anything like that; besides, he doesn’t exactly strike you as the romantic type. 

It’s silly to be disappointed. And yet, you are. You’re not even really sure what you had been expecting after that first time, but you suppose you had just been hoping for something a little more after crushing on him for so long. But you don’t want to be pushy or needy – you’re grateful for what he’s giving you, after all, and you don’t want to ruin the tentative little arrangement between you just because your crush has gotten a little out of hand.

It takes weeks before Geiszler manages to work up the courage to return to your little work room. It’s really just a little storage room filled with unused desks and old lab equipment, but you still feel much more comfortable in that room than in the main lab filled with scientists that side-eye you and openly snicker at you over your involvement with Quaritch. You’d prefer not to face that judgement, especially since those bastards had humiliated you with the dildo stunt already.

The sound of the door sliding open has your head snapping up from your research – you’ve started to associate that door sliding open with Quaritch’s arrival, and you find your stomach dropping a little in disappointment when you realise that it’s Geiszler rather than the Colonel’s familiar big blue body.

“Hey.” He says, shuffling his feet against the linoleum floor. He looks terribly uncomfortable, and pushes his wire-framed glasses up on his nose when they slip down.

You blink at him. Truthfully, you’re a little bewildered to see him. Ever since Quaritch had ordered him out of this same room before he had fucked you right into the floor, Geiszler had been avoiding you. In fairness, you hadn’t made much of an effort to seek him out either, but usually you didn’t have to. He was a pretty constant presence around the lab, and he usually sat with you at mealtimes too; his absence has been obvious.

“Hi.” You say, blinking stupidly at him.

Geiszler clears his throat and steps around some of the unused desks, approaching you where you sit. 

“I, uh…” He trails off for a second, before he seems to rally himself. “I thought I’d check in on you. See how you were doing.”

That throws you, and all you can do is stare at him in bewilderment. “Oh. Um… That’s nice of you. Yeah, I’m doing good.”

You’re not altogether certain of where you stand with Geiszler, either. Before the dildo incident, you think that you would call yourselves tentative friends. But now, things are undeniably awkward.

“Good. That’s good.” Geiszler is nodding. He leans his hip against your desk, but he can’t quite seem to meet your eyes. “Listen… I wanted to apologise.”

That makes you pause, and you squint at him.

“For what? The dildo thing? You already apologised for that.”

He laughs, but it’s high-pitched and obviously nervous. “Right, yeah. Um… it turned out pretty good for you though, I guess. So no harm done, right?”

“Other than my dignity being irreparably damaged?” You ask drily.

“Well,” Geiszler’s awkward smile melts into a cheeky grin – it’s a look that’s much more familiar to you than the oddly contrite expression he had been wearing before. “I don’t think the dildo did any more damage to your dignity than the fact that everyone could hear you encounter the real thing.”

Your mouth drops open. It’s not that the words themselves have shocked you (you knew that they had heard, on some level), it’s the fact that Geiszler is bold enough to actually say it to your face after so much awkwardness. Still, you can’t help but laugh.

“Okay,” You giggle, returning his grin. “Fair enough.”

Geiszler’s whole face seems to relax at that, as though he’s impossibly relieved that you’re able to laugh over it now. Some of the awkwardness seems to leak out of his demeanour too, which is a relief. The atmosphere is a little more natural between you now, like it was before the whole dildo incident.

Tentatively, he reaches for a chair and drags it over so that he can sit next to you at your desk. He’s a little closer than usual, but you don’t pay him much mind. It’s a bit of a relief, actually – you don’t have any real friends, and most of the science guys don’t take you seriously at all. It’s nice to have someone to talk to, even if he is a bit of a dick.

“Am I forgiven?” He asks, his eyebrows raising hopefully. “Friends again?”

You roll your eyes, but you’ve softened already. You can’t even be all that annoyed considering that his stupid stunt had ended up with you getting dicked down by the finest man you’ve ever met in your whole life. Besides, friends are in short supply here – you don’t want to alienate the only one you actually have.

“Yeah.” You grumble, though your mouth is quirked up in a little grin. “Fine. Friends.”

Geiszler brightens up, before running a hand through his hair in a nervous sort of gesture. Despite the fact that much of the awkwardness has dissipated, Geiszler still looks oddly jittery.

“So,” He says in a would-be casual tone. “You and Quaritch, huh?”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you turn hastily back to your research in an attempt to look busy. You flounder for a moment, clumsily attempting to reorganise your papers.

“Hm?” You ask, trying to pretend like you hadn’t heard him in the hopes that he’ll drop the subject.

“Oh, don’t give me that,” Geiszler laughs. His chair squeaks against the floor as he shuffles forward, even closer to you. “Come on! I was practically the matchmaker, right? You gotta give me some details, here.”

Your skin is prickling with mortification now, though you try to swallow it down and act unaffected. It’s only Geiszler asking, after all. 

“Um…” You clear your throat, flustered. “There’s really not that much to say.”

“How accurate was the dildo?”

“Geiszler!” You deliver a sharp stinging smack to his shoulder and he yelps, jolting away from you. “You absolute pervert-”

“I thought we were friends-!” He yells back, but he’s visibly laughing. “Come on, it stays between us! You can tell me!”

He’s so stupid. And yet, you’re hesitating a little. Being one of the very few women on the team of xenobotanists can be tough, even more so when you’re also one of the youngest and you haven’t even gotten your doctoral qualification yet. It can be lonely, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t terribly eager for somebody to talk to about things.

“It-” You begin, flushed hot with embarrassment. “He- I mean, um. It was pretty accurate. There were some things you missed, though.”

Geiszler pulls a funny sort of face, before his expression settles into one of mock thoughtfulness. “I see. So… you did end up using that dildo then?”

You choke, turning on him again. He dodges back before you can slap at his shoulder again, but his grin has gotten impossibly wider.

“Don’t be fucking weird about it.” You complain, turning your face away from him so he can’t see your face. “Miles has already given me enough shit about it-”

“Oh, Miles, huh?” Geiszler is still grinning, and he shuffles closer again now that he’s no longer in danger of being smacked. “Damn, you’re calling the Colonel Miles now?”

You breathe out a nervous laugh, flustered and embarrassed. “I guess. Not in public, obviously.”

“Why not?” Geiszler asks immediately, leaning forward over your desk and leaning his elbow on the tabletop so he can rest his chin in his palm. “He doesn’t want to show you off? He certainly wasn’t trying to hide it when he was in here before-”

“Jesus, stop fucking talking about that,” You hiss, scowling at him. “It was like one time-”

“You know, the walls in this room are pretty thin, and everyone in the main lab can hear when he-”

“Okay, okay,” You say quickly. “So it was a couple of times! Whatever!”

Geiszler giggles. His fingers are tapping repeatedly against the desktop as though he’s nervous, though his grin is still bright as ever. 

“So…” He says slowly, “What’s up with you guys, then? Are you, like, together now?”

You bite at your lower lip as you consider his question, pushing your research to the side so that you can rest your elbows on the desk. That really was the million dollar question, wasn’t it?

“Nah,” You murmur, fingers picking absently at a stray bit of paper. “Don’t think he wants anything serious.”

“But you do?”

“Fucking hell,” You turn to give him a side eye, but soften it with a little smile. “What’s with the third degree, huh? You’re worse than the RDA-mandated therapists.”

Geiszler laughs, but obediently backs off. “Sorry, sorry. Can’t blame me for being curious, can you?”

You suppose you can’t, so you just hum non-committedly. It is a strange situation, you suppose.

“Whatever,” You say with a sigh, before waving your hands in a shooing motion. “Go on, get out of here. I have work to do.”

Geiszler does as he’s told, pushing himself away from the desk as his gaze darts over the structured mess of your desk.

“Sure, sure.” He says good-naturedly. “Still working on the dissertation? You nearly done?”

“Yeah.” You beam reflexively, impossibly proud of all your hard work. “The sample that the recoms brought me has been such a lifesaver! I’ll be able to submit everything this week, I think!”

“Hey, that’s amazing!” Geiszler says, reaching out to clap you cheerfully on the shoulder. “Really awesome! You deserve it. We should celebrate after!”

You hesitate for a split-second, a little bewildered about the way his hand is lingering a little oddly on your back. But then he pulls away, and you decide you were probably imagining it.

“Right!” You say, smiling. “Sure.” 

Geiszler shoots you a blinding grin along with some finger guns, which is a gesture that’s so cheesy that you have to fight not to visibly cringe. With that he leaves you alone once more, so that you can return to burying your head in your research, forcing all thoughts of your relationship (or lack of it) with Quaritch out of your mind for good.

Friday evening marks a full week since you’ve seen Quaritch.

It’s not unusual, exactly, considering his work and yours usually keep you occupied in different sections of the base entirely, but still. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t been hoping that he would come and see you at some point during the week. You’re overly aware of the fact that it’s almost always you seeking him out, and so rarely the other way around.

You’re even more aware of this after your conversation with Geiszler – it’s not that he had said anything surprising, but just talking about it had highlighted the fact that you really weren’t sure where you stood with Quaritch at all. Now that you’ve started thinking about it, you just can’t stop. 

Would it be selfish to ask for more? Is it presumptuous to hope that he might be willing to offer more? What would you do if he turned you down? Fuck, how would you recover from that?

In the end, you decide to leave the matter for now. It can be a topic of discussion for another time.

But then Friday afternoon rolls around, and you hit a milestone. After three long years of arduous research, your doctoral thesis has been submitted. It’s a momentous occasion, and yet you find yourself alone in your lab with no one to celebrate with.

The sensible thing would probably be to go and find Geiszler. He’s a co-worker, and a tentative friend, and he has experience with the very same process you’ve just gone through – plus, he’s already made you a promise to celebrate with you! 

It would probably be a better idea to stick to building upon the budding friendships in the science department – but instead you find yourself slipping out of the lab and wandering down the halls, your mind set on finding one person in particular.

Despite how little you’ve seen of him recently, Quaritch isn’t actually a difficult man to find. 

Bridgehead City may be an enormous, sprawling structure, but the recoms are encouraged to stay close to the medical and science wings just in case something goes wrong. Many of the facilities in this part of the base have been built to accommodate their much larger Na’vi bodies; the gym being one of them.

Like most of the facilities, a separate section has been built in the gym containing appropriate equipment for the recoms. You need to strap an exo-pack mask over your face so that you can breathe the air in there, but then you slip into the room with no problem. You’re not even particularly out of place in the enormous gym; there are several other human scientists milling around with datapads, though they’re clearly observing and taking notes on the recoms’ athletic performance.

You spot Quaritch near the back of the gym. He’s impossible to miss, really. Even if he weren’t nine-feet-tall and bright blue, you’re certain you’d be able to locate him based on the sheer amount of overwhelmingly commanding energy that pours off him at any given moment – his presence fills the room.

You pick your way around the enormous gym equipment, trying not to feel like a child in a playground. Overall, you do a pretty good job at not being noticed. You don’t think you could handle another encounter with his squad; you’ve done your absolute utmost to avoid all of them ever since the dildo fiasco.

As you approach Quaritch, you begin to falter. He’s lifting weights, all stretched out across the bench press with his thin vest clinging to his chest. Though a single barbell probably outweighs you, the motion looks effortless. There’s the faintest glimmer of sweat across his brow, but otherwise he hardly seems to be affected by the exertion at all other than the occasional grunt he lets out. You get a little distracted by the way his biceps flex and bunch with every curl of his arms.

Fuck, what are you even doing here? Why would he even care about your stupid dissertation? What are you hoping to achieve with this?

Your steps falter, and then movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention. It’s one of the recoms – Lopez, you think – watching you with curious eyes. He turns and murmurs something to Z-dog beside him, who turns to look at you too before nudging him with a grin. 

Your face grows hot, mortified; you’re unwillingly reminded of the way Wainfleet and Fike had snickered at you that day in your little workroom.

Embarrassed, you force yourself to close the last bit of remaining distance between you and the Colonel. You’ve come this far anyway, and you can’t face the thought of his squad watching you chicken out.

He looks up as you approach, and you can see surprise register on his face as his ears press back against the sides of his head. With one last heave, he sets his weights back on the bar before pushing himself up into a sitting position on the bench press.

“Hey, kid,” He greets, his elbows resting on his thighs as he watches you approach. “What’re you doing here?”

You step up to the bench press, close enough that you can admire the way a couple beads of sweat glisten on his smooth, muscled chest. Even after all the times you’ve seen him completely naked, you still get flustered when you’re faced with how impossibly attractive he is.

“I finished it,” You murmur to him quietly, hyper-aware of the stares your appearance in the gym has started to garner from the members of his team that are training at various points around the room. “My dissertation, I mean.”

You’re expecting a dismissal, or a half-hearted congratulations maybe. You’re not expecting Quaritch’s face to relax into a genuine little grin, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he tilts his head to look at you. 

“Yeah? Nice job, princess.”

You flush, growing warm and flustered from the praise. “Well, I’ve only just submitted it. I’ll have to go through the thesis defence, but hopefully they’ll be able to speed that process up.”

Quaritch is watching your face, his big golden eyes assessing as he evaluates every little expression of yours. It’s always intimidating to be under his scrutiny like this, but a little part of you is flattered to be the sole recipient of his attention like this every time.

“Smart girl.” He murmurs at last, mouth quirking. “This mean you can stop spending so much time in that dirty little room?”

You snort, amused despite yourself. “No. That dirty little room is my space. It’s easier to work there by myself than with the other guys in the main lab.”

Quaritch’s eyes narrow, and he leans forward a little. “Those little pubes still bothering you?”

You think back to your conversation with Geiszler from earlier that week – it had gone well, and you’ve seen him almost every day this week. He’s hardly teased you at all about Quaritch, in fact, which is the opposite of what you had expected. He’s been very respectful and very work-appropriate.

“No, actually.” You say with a satisfied sort of smile. “Everything is good.”

Quaritch grunts softly in acknowledgement, before sitting up a little straighter. “Why don’t I drop by the lab later? I’ve got a few things to finish up here.”

You can’t help the way your stomach wobbles, butterflies fluttering wildly in your belly. You’re almost embarrassed about the effect he has on you, but not embarrassed enough considering you’re still smiling dopily up at him.

“Yeah,” You breathe. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

Quaritch’s smile turns cocky, his mouth curving up as he watches your reaction. “Yeah?”

You grin back, and try not to nod too eagerly. You can still feel the eyes of Quaritch’s squad on you, watching intently as you converse quietly with their superior office. Curiosity is practically radiating off them, and you’re sure there are more than one pair of twitching ears trying to listen in on your conversation.

“Was that all?” Quaritch asks, “Or did you just come here to see me?”

Ah, busted. Your grin turns a little bashful, and you scratch absently at your elbow.

“I just wanted to tell someone about my dissertation, I guess.” You say with a little shrug.

Quaritch hums, amused, before pushing himself up from the bench to his full, impressive height. Suddenly, you find yourself eye level with his belt, and you have to tilt your head all the way back to be able to look him in the eye.

“You did good, girl.” He says, reaching out to pat you on the shoulder. “Well done.”

His hand lingers, his long fingers curling around your shoulder and resting along the back of your neck. It’s the kind of touch that makes you shiver a little, and you lean into his hand just to feel the heat of his skin against yours. It puts you in mind of the back pat Geiszler had given you earlier; you wonder how it’s possible for the same gesture to feel so unbelievably different from two different people.

You smile, bright and joyful. His praise settles low and warm in your belly, making you feel weightless and airy. The effect he has on you is a little embarrassing, but you don’t even care. You’re lost in the moment, staring up at his sharp-boned, handsome face as you revel in his approval. 

You clear your throat. “I’ll, um.. I’ll see you later, then?”

“Yeah,” Quaritch removes his hand from your shoulder, to your dismay. “See you then, kid.”

Despite the fact that you’ve already seen him, you take a little time to fix yourself up that evening as you await Quaritch’s arrival. You’ve changed into one of your cute little dresses under your lab coat, and you add a little bit of makeup and fix your hair. You just want to look pretty for him.

You’re just adjusting some of the gloss at the corner of your lips when the doors to your little work room slide open. You hurriedly put down your lipgloss and turn to the door with a smile on your face; it falters when you see that it’s Geiszler who has just stepped in.

“Oh,” You say, surprised. “Hey.”

Geiszler smiles back at you as he saunters his way into the room; bizarrely, he looks nervous.

“Hey!” He greets, a little more upbeat than usual. “Congratulations on the thesis!”

“Oh, thank you!” You relax, realising now why he’s here. “God, it hardly even feels real, you know.”

Geiszler just chuckles; just like last time, he grabs a chair and drags it over so that he can sit close to you. His eyes are darting over your face, and you try not to get self-conscious about it; you can only guess that he’s eyeing the way you’ve prettied yourself up with makeup.

“I brought you this,” He clears his throat, and brings his arm out from behind his back. You hadn’t even noticed that he was attempting to hide a large bottle in his hands. “Uh… Steiner from exobiology has been brewing his own vodka with some of the freeze-dried potatoes we brought from Earth. Here – it’s a congratulations present.”

When he places the bottle on the table, you accept it with a gracious if not surprised smile. It’s a rarity to get something like this, and the idea of being gifted vodka on an alien planet is a total novelty. You grin as you peer at the clear liquid inside the glass bottle.

“Damn, thank you!” You say with a short little chuckle. “This was a lovely thought.”

Geiszler seems pleased with your reaction, though he just shrugs his shoulders as though it’s no big deal. “Yeah, well, I figured I owed you something nice after being a dick to you before.”

You try not to sigh. It seems like he’s just going to keep bringing that up, no matter how many times you try to get him to drop it. 

“Well, thanks.”

Geiszler leans forward, planting his elbows on the desk beside you. He’s very close to you now, close enough for you to start side-eyeing him but not close enough for you to really justify pulling away. 

“You look nice.” He says simply, offering you another little smile. “I’m guessing you have plans for the evening?”

You clear your throat, but you can’t help the little smile that’s starting to creep over your face. “Yeah. I’m just waiting-”

“For Quaritch?” Geiszler interrupts you, though his voice is still casual and his expression doesn’t change. “Well, he’s a lucky man. Is it date night? He taking you somewhere nice?”

Your smile falters a little. No, it’s not date night. Quaritch has been clear from the start that he doesn’t want anything like a relationship, and he’s been true to his word this whole time. He comes around for sex, and it’s very good sex, but sex is all it ever is. And that’s fine! You’re fine with just the sex! But you have to admit, some part of you yearns for a little more than that.

“Um, no.” You say at last, swallowing and hitching your smile back up. “No, nothing like that. Just a quiet night in, probably.”

Judging by the eyebrow raise, Geiszler is perfectly capable of translating between the lines. He gives you a sympathetic look, the type that makes irritation prickle all up the back of your neck, before leaning in just a little closer as he drops his voice.

“I know you like him,” He begins, his voice lowering to a murmur despite the fact that the two of you are alone in your little work room. “But is this really what you want? Someone that won’t even take you on dates? That only uses you as something to fuck?”

Your spine stiffens, your eyes growing wide. What the fuck? The sheer boldness of his words takes you by surprise, and all you can do for a long moment is stare at him. 

He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, is the first thing that crosses your mind, irritated and dismissive. But then you pause, and bite at your lip. It’s not something you want to admit to yourself, but he does have somewhat of a point. 

Is it unreasonable to hope for more from the Colonel? He had told you straight out that he didn’t want anything from you the day of the dildo incident, but then he had contradicted himself when he had returned to your lab barely a week later with a brand new sample of panopyra fluid before promptly fucking you stupid right there on the workroom floor. He had never brought up your relationship status (or lack thereof) again, though you felt like his silence on the matter spoke volumes.

It’s not selfish to wish quietly for a deeper level of intimacy with the man you’re so damn infatuated with, is it? You want to be able to hold his big hands, to comfort him when he’s stressed, to tell him about your day, to share a bed and just sleep, to go on dates. They’re thoughts that you’ve been trying hard to keep stifled for the past several weeks for exactly this reason – you just knew that if you allowed yourself to think them, they would consume you.

Now that Geiszler has opened this can of worms, you end up shifting uncomfortably on your stool. As if he can see your doubt, he leans in yet again.

“Don’t you think you’ve gotten him out of your system by now?” He asks, so quietly that you almost have to strain to hear him. 

You open your mouth hesitantly, but you never get to make a reply. The sound of the door sliding open behind causes you to jolt in surprise; for the first time you realise just how close Geiszler has gotten to you, and you lean hastily away.

You shove yourself off the stool you’ve been sitting on, and whirl around to find that Quaritch has finally shown up.

“Miles,” You breathe, reaching to smooth down your dress. “Hey.”

Quaritch steps inside your dingy little workroom, ducking down so that he can fit through the doorway. You can see him physically pause when he catches sight of Geiszler. It seems to take a moment for him to actually place him, but when he does recognition settles darkly over his face.

“Hey, kid.” He greets, though he doesn’t look away from Geiszler. “What are you up to?”

You clear your throat again, and fight not to fidget with your fingers. You feel bizarrely guilty, which is stupid. There’s nothing wrong with talking to Geiszler, and there’s nothing wrong with questioning where you stand with Quaritch. 

“Nothing!” You say, but it comes out much too quickly to be entirely believable. 

His big golden eyes flick in your direction, and you find yourself struggling to meet his stare. He’s so good at reading your thoughts by your expression alone, and you’re embarrassed about this. 

There’s a brief silence, and then Quaritch steps forward again. He has to walk with his head ducked and shoulders hunched in order to avoid hitting the ceiling; this room is much smaller than the main lab, and was never intended for bodies as large as his. You watch him approach, your stomach tightening in the same anticipatory knot you always get when he’s close. You’re only distantly aware of the way that Geiszler shuffles to the left, adding about an inch of distance between you.

You’re still a little flustered from your conversation with Geiszler, and you find yourself scrambling a little bit as Quaritch comes closer. You reach out and grab at the bottle Geiszler had gifted you and hold it up.

“Look, Geiszler brought a gift! Isn’t this cool?” You babble. “It’s vodka! Made from- uh, potatoes!”

Quaritch has grown accustomed enough to your mannerisms in the past couple of weeks that your nervous babbling doesn’t phase him in the slightest. He drops into a crouch next to you, his movements as quick and graceful as a cat, before reaching out to grasp your wrist so he can get a better look at what you’re holding.

“Well, would ya look at that.” He says. His tone is perfectly mild, yet when his eyes slide over to Geiszler they flash a little darker. “He certainly does like bringing you presents, don’t he?”

Geiszler has grown a little pale, and he shoots a quick glance your way. You just smile at him – Quaritch can be a little scary, sure, but you know that Geiszler doesn’t really have anything to worry about. Most likely, he’s just a little irritated still about the whole dildo situation.

“It was a lovely thought.” You say, placing the bottle back on the tabletop. “I haven’t had alcohol since I came to Pandora.”

Geiszler visibly brightens. “Nah, it was nothing. You’ve been working so hard, you deserve some kind of reward.”

You beam, delighted. It feels great to have your hard work recognised, especially after so long working with much older scientists that have treated you like nothing more than an intern. 

Beside you, Quaritch shifts, and you startle a little when his arm comes around your back as a warm weight plants itself on your ass. You can feel the heat of his palm and fingers through the fabric of your lab coat and dress, and you struggle to stifle the physical shiver that runs through you when he squeezes a little.

You glance up at him, but he’s not even looking at you; his eyes are still fixed on Geiszler, hardly even blinking. He reminds you a little of a jungle predator, the line of his body taut with barely restrained danger.

Your face grows hot, but you don’t move away from him. His hand remains firmly planted on your asscheek. It doesn’t feel like he has any plans to move it. 

You clear your throat a little as you attempt to continue the conversation as though Quaritch isn’t currently unashamedly groping you.

“Well, thank you.” You murmur, hoping that your smile doesn’t seem too strained. “I still can’t believe I’m gonna get my doctorate.”

“It’s well-deserved.” Geiszler’s voice is oddly soft, almost uncharacteristically so. “You’ll be the sweetest botanist we have, I think.”

That seems like a bizarrely condescending thing to say, and your brow pinches a little. You think he means it as a compliment, but it’s yet another reminder that the other scientists don’t really seem to see you as being on the same level as them.

Quaritch has been strangely quiet up until this point, content to simply stare Geiszler down with his big yellow eyes, but that comment makes him snort.

“Oh, don’t let the sweetness fool ya,” He drawls, his upper lip peeling up in a smirk to reveal sharp teeth. “Girl’s a brat.”

You jolt, swinging your head around to stare up at him in disbelief. For a moment, you wonder if you had misheard him, but his smirk is unmistakably challenging as he watches Geiszler for a reaction.

“Miles!” You hiss, mortified.

Quaritch finally looks away from Geiszler, just so he can roll his head around and blink down at you. He doesn’t look sorry in the least; in fact, he just grins at you.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?” He asks, his tone falsely sugar-sweet. “You’re not usually so embarrassed.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed and bewildered. Your cheeks are still hot, and bizarrely you find yourself growing a little hyper-aware of how attractive he is. Your eyes dart over his high cheekbones and big eyes, the deep blue of his skin and the pretty white bioluminescent dots freckled across his nose. His big hand flexes, encompassing the whole swell of your ass, and you take a breath.

You look away hastily, having lost the thread of your thoughts, and your eyes find Geiszler once more. The look he’s giving you is significant, his eyebrows raised behind his large wide glasses, and you’re struck again by what he had said earlier.

‘Is this really what you want? Someone that won’t even take you on dates? That only uses you as something to fuck?’

Flushed, you look down at your feet. God, you really can’t help yourself, can you?

“Alright, why don’t you head out now?” Quaritch says above you, tossing a quick look Geiszler’s way.

His glower is unmistakable, and Geiszler flinches a little under the heavy weight of it. He takes a step back as though he can’t help himself, before darting a glance in your direction.

“Right. Yeah. Um,” Despite the way he’s visibly cowering slightly in Quaritch’s presence, Geiszler still manages to gather enough courage to shoot you a smile. “Congratulations again. We’ll celebrate another time, right?”

“Yeah.” You nod, offering him a tight smile. “Sure.”

Geiszler’s smile turns more genuine as he walks backwards towards the door, as though putting additional space between him and Quaritch is making him a little braver. 

“Hey, think about what I said!” He calls once he’s at the door, just before he ducks out of the room. “See you tomorrow!”

There’s a long moment of silence as the door slides shut behind him. You’re biting at your lip, brow furrowed – as much as you’d like to put his words firmly out of your head, you know that it’s going to stick with you for the foreseeable future.

Movement at your side pulls you out of your thoughts, and you glance up to find Quaritch scowling at the door that Geiszler has disappeared out of.

“I do not like that guy.” He grumbles, nose twitching. 

You laugh a little breathlessly, unable to help yourself. “He’s not so bad.”

Quaritch turns his head to look at you, his expression one of firm disbelief. “What? Is he not the slimy little creep that gave you that sex toy you were all upset over?”

The memory makes your skin prickle with remembered humiliation, and you roll your eyes in an attempt to appear casual.

“I was upset because you and your squad of morons ruined my research, not over the dildo.” You mumble, finally stepping away from him. “Besides, I thought you liked that dildo – it helped me get ready for you, didn’t it?”

Usually that would be enough to distract him, but it seems like Geiszler’s presence has gotten under his skin more than you realised. You had forgotten that Quaritch had such a dislike for the scientists that work around Bridgehead; his remarks about your research and your interest in xenobotany has always been mostly teasing, after all.

“I seem to remember you throwing things, kid.” He reminds you, lowering himself a little further so he’s at eye-level with you. “You tellin’ me that was just for me?”

You breathe a short laugh, glancing away. As much as you love looking at his big handsome face, you find it difficult sometimes to maintain eye contact with him. He’s just so intense about everything, and you feel as though you’re being examined.

“Well, maybe you push my buttons more than he does.”

Quaritch makes an odd little grunting sound, his eyes still flicking over your face. He’s sat back on his hunkers in front of you, though he reaches out and places a large hand against your waist. You lean into his touch on reflex, enjoying the pleasant heat of his palm through your clothes.

“What was that he was saying?” He asks, his voice low. “Was he bothering you before I arrived?”

“No,” You say quickly, averting your eyes. “No, that was nothing.”

There’s a brief pause. You can feel him studying you, that pretty golden gaze boring into the side of your face. You half expect him to keep pushing, to demand a proper response from you, and you’re a little surprised when no such demand comes. Instead, his long fingers curl into your clothes, bunching it up a little bit in his hand.

“You tellin’ me the truth, sweetheart?” He murmurs. His tone makes it clear that he already knows the answer to his own question.

“Yeah,” You keep your smile hitched up on your face, though it takes a little effort. “Of course. Will we head out, then?”

Another pause, this one longer than the last. 

“Alright.” He drawls at last, pulling hand away from you as he stands. “Let’s go then.”

The tiny seed of doubt in your mind starts to bloom into full blown apprehension over the following days. 

The evening you had with Quaritch had been lovely – it still amazes you how he can be so charming one moment and then the next moment have you all tied up in knots around his cock as he pounds you stupid into your own standard-issue lumpy mattress.

In some ways, your crush was easier to handle before you started hooking up with Quaritch. At least back then you weren’t ever really concerned about rejection – you had never expected to get far enough with him that rejection might be a reality, after all! Now, you find yourself perturbed at the thought that he could lose interest at any moment; and that’s assuming he had any interest in the first place. You were the one who had been throwing yourself at him, after all.

Maybe, you think to yourself, it’s best to give him some space.

For the first time in months, you stop seeking Quaritch out. You don’t go looking for him in the gym so you can watch him work out, you don’t try to grab seats close to the Recom area in the cafeteria so you can watch him during mealtimes, you don’t go searching for him in the evening times so you can coyly invite him back to your quarters, you don’t stand waiting in the hangars when the Recom squad are returning from their scouting missions on Pandora in the hopes of catching sight of him. 

You had been aware on some level that it had mainly been you seeking him out, but now that you’ve stopped you’re disheartened to find that Geiszler had been right. Quaritch doesn’t come looking for you at all – maybe it’s true that he was only interested in you on a sexual basis. And even then, it’s only because you offer yourself to him. Does he think you’re easy? God, you probably come across as so desperate. Does he think you’re pathetic?

Either way, it’s a little disheartening. But whatever. It’s fine. You’re fine.

A week and a half after you first started to keep to yourself, Geiszler starts lingering around your workroom. At first, it’s kind of nice to have a bit of company as you work. He asks questions about your research, which you answer eagerly and with great enthusiasm, and even helps you to prepare for your thesis defence.

But by the end of that week, his presence starts to grate on your nerves a little. He babbles constantly, and no matter how hard you try to tune him out it’s like having nonstop noise playing in the background.

“Hey, how come you don’t join the rest of us back in the main lab?” He asks one afternoon. 

He’s lounging on one of the spare chairs, his feet thrown up on a disused desk. He looks very at ease, and you try not to allow your irritation to show; this is your space, and it’s difficult not to grow disgruntled at the constant invasion.

It takes a moment for you to answer.

“Because,” You murmur slowly, scratching out a quick memo in your notes. “You guys are assholes. You laugh at me all the time, and I know that you all think I’m not as smart as you.”

“Oh, come on.” Geiszler says with a short laugh, leaning his chin into his hands. “You know we don’t mean anything by it-”

“Yes, you do.” You mumble without looking up. “It’s obvious. I have to work so much harder than any of you, but it hardly ever matters. It doesn’t matter how many hours I put in, or how good my research is. I know you guys just see me as a silly little girl that doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”

Geiszler just blinks at you for a moment. Maybe he expects you to be angrier than you are; but you’ve already experienced years of this. More than anything, you’re just tired of it.

“Come on,” He says at last, leaning forward with an ingratiating little smile. “I don’t think that’s fair.”

“No?” You murmur absently, flipping a page. “Then why is it that you guys never ask me about my work? My research? My interests? My experiences? The only thing you guys ever talk about when I’m around is how silly I am for crushing on the Colonel. First you laughed about me because you thought I was pathetic, and now you laugh at me because you think it’s weird.”

There’s a brief pause where Geiszler visibly fumbles for a response. His brow furrows, his mouth pursing, as he attempts to gather his thoughts. You don’t look up from your work, but you can practically feel antsy shifting from beside you.

“Oh, that’s not fair.” He says finally, a little weakly. “I mean- okay, so maybe we thought it was a little funny that-” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head, and then changes tactics. “What, are you telling me Quaritch thinks you’re smart?”

That makes you pause, your own brow puckering into a frown. He says it as though it’s a difficult thing to believe, but you’ve never really thought about it. You may have made a fool of yourself in front of Quaritch on several occasions, but he’s never actually made you feel stupid about it. He’s rolled his eyes at you plenty of times, maybe laughed at you a little, but you’ve never gotten the impression that he’s actually questioning your intelligence.

“I think he does.” You murmur, still not looking up. You think of how he had grinned at you when you had shared the news that you had finished your dissertation; he didn’t seem as though he thought you were stupid then.

“It’s Quaritch.” Geiszler points out, his voice thick with disbelief. “Come on! He thinks everyone is stupid! You hardly think you’re the exception?”

You turn to him sharply, eyes narrowing. Your irritation is flaring now, and you find yourself completely unable to hide it.

“Do you seriously think this is helping your point?” You snap. “Like, really?”

Geiszler goes quietly instantly, the picture of guilt. The silence that follows is a little awkward; you turn back to your work, glaring fixedly at your research. You’ve been on Pandora for almost a full year now, and over that time you’ve grown used to the attitude of the guys in the lab. It’s not unusual, after all. You’ve been met with the same kind of derision in plenty of the male dominated work and study spaces you’ve experienced back on Earth. But even though you’ve grown used to being smirked at and talked down to, it really gets on your nerves sometimes.

After several long moments of thick, tense silence only broken by the scritching of your pen on paper and the jittery fidgeting of Geiszler’s hands against the tabletop, he speaks again.

“Sorry.” He says, quietly. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I know you’re upset about him recently.”

You clench your jaw irritably. You don’t like that it’s so obvious how you feel about him, and you like it even less that Geiszler seems to be so interested in it.

“Whatever.” You mumble, turning your face away with a quiet sigh. “It doesn’t really matter, anyway.”

The next silence doesn’t last quite so long, because Geiszler ends up shuffling his chair even closer to you. Your shoulders tense, but you simply watch him out of the corner of your eye. Your friendship with him is somewhat odd; most of the time you think he’s just good company, but sometimes his boldness takes you aback.

“Look, I’m just worried about you,” He says, his voice quiet and urgent. “You keep yourself so isolated here, it can’t be healthy. When’s the last time you socialised with the rest of the xenobotanist team?” 

You hum in false thought. “Think it might have been three weeks ago? When you guys had a conversation for nearly half an hour about the physics of me and Miles fucking as if I wasn’t even there. You know, when Boyd asked if I’d write a report on human/Na’vi sexual compatibility?”

Geiszler winces in acknowledgement. “Yeah, that might’ve been a bit inappropriate.”

You just shoot him a look before returning your attention to your work. It’s not even a conversation worth having, in your eyes. But despite your obvious dismissal, Geiszler doesn’t seem ready to give up.

“You’re not interested in coming to drink with the team, then?” He asks in a wheedling tone, as though he’s talking to a pouting child.

“No.” You say. Your tone is blunt to the point of rudeness, but you’re past caring.

“Well, what about having a drink with me?”

That makes you pause, and you raise your head once more just so you can blink at him. His expression is open and guileless, unchanging even as you blink suspiciously at him. He seems earnest, and for a moment you feel a little guilty. 

Maybe Geiszler does have a point. Shutting yourself up in your makeshift lab away from everyone else certainly hasn’t done you any favours in the friendship department; if anything, it’s done even more damage to the possibility of building up genuine relationships with your co-workers. And Geiszler has been genuinely nice to you, even if he has acted like a total dick on occasion. 

“A drink?” You ask cautiously.

“Yeah,” Geiszler leans forward, clearly seeing your hesitance as an opportunity. “Why not? I can come back this evening with another bottle of moonshine – we can drink it here! We don’t even have to leave the room. It’ll just be a casual hang-out, me and you. You could use a distraction, don’t you think?”

You chew at your lip, thinking. Maybe he’s right – maybe you could use a distraction.

“Yeah. Okay, sure.” You say, trying to muster up some degree of enthusiasm.

Your attempt at levity falls completely flat. Geiszler, bless his heart, doesn’t even seem to notice.

The alcohol that’s available in Bridgehead is expensive considering it’s usually brewed secretly and against regulations, but it makes up for the price by being so strong that it could damn near blow your head right off.

After only a single drink, you start to feel a little light-headed and giggly. It’s nicer than you had expected. Your dissertation and all of your uncertainty surrounding the Quaritch situation was more stressful than you had fully realised, and the opportunity to relax like this is even nicer than you had expected.

Your legs are thrown up on one of the spare desks as you lounge back in an office chair, laughing openly at the way Geiszler is slurring his words. You may be a little tipsy, but Geiszler is well on his way to being wasted. 

It’s probably inevitable that the conversation turns back to you and Quaritch’s odd little arrangement. You can’t even be irritated about it; your mood is cushioned by the alcohol now, making you a little bit more agreeable to discussing things. Besides, complaining about it is kind of cathartic.

“I just don’t get it, man.” Geiszler is saying, his chin cradled in his hands as he stares at you with wide eyes. He’s clearly had too much of the very strong moonshine; he can hardly sit up straight. “Like… why him?”

You just sigh, tilting your head back so you can stare at the panelled ceiling way above your head. “I don’t know. Would it be very shallow to point out the fact that he’s literally beautiful?”

Geiszler snorts a little drunken laugh, before inclining his head in acknowledgement. “No, that’s fair actually.”

You laugh with him, but only for a moment. Maybe the small glass of moonshine has rotted your brain, because you end up softening as you think of Quaritch and all the illicit little encounters you’ve stolen away with him so far. 

“The Na’vi as a whole are physically attractive,” Geiszler notes, reaching up to push his glasses clumsily up the bridge of his nose. “But why are you so fixated on him? He mostly just ignores you when he’s not trying to screw you.”

You flush at that, a little humiliated. You know he’s likely just protective of you like a good friend should be, but you don’t like how that paints you as some kind of pathetic little idiot that’s just desperate for attention.

“Other than the fact that he’s biologically and physically perfect-” You soldier on even as Geiszler snorts at your words, “He’s gentle with me. I don’t necessarily think I’d call him sweet, but… I think he could be, if he wanted to.”

There’s a brief silence. Geiszler nods, lips pursed in an expression of exaggerated drunken thoughtfulness as he seems to mull this information over. After a long moment, he starts to snicker.

“I can’t lie, man, that’s not very cool. You’re clinging onto this guy because he could be sweet if he wanted to? Damn.” He drawls. “I mean, it’s Quaritch. I don’t think sweet is in his vocabulary, unless he’s making fun of you.”

It seems like the moonshine has gotten rid of the last remnants of Geiszler’s filter. You’re in a difficult position to argue, too, because he’s sort of right.

You just sigh. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

That seems to encourage him. He takes another deep gulp of his drink, wincing at the taste, before shuffling a little closer to where you’re sitting.

“I do have another question,” He says slowly, a tiny grin beginning to grow across his face. “How did it… you know… Fit?”

You nearly choke at that question, a horrified laugh bubbling out of your mouth. 

“Oh my god, don’t ask me questions like that, you little creep!” You slap at his shoulder, hard.

He yelps and pulls away, but now he’s laughing too. “Alright, alright! Can’t blame a man for being a little curious!”

Despite the topic of conversation, you find yourself feeling at ease. It’s comfortable sitting here and sharing a drink in your little lab like this; it’s the first time since you’ve arrived on Pandora that you’ve really felt like you have a friend. It’s nice.

Geiszler is still smiling, but his eyes have a somewhat serious gleam to them when he turns to you again. There’s a beat of silence, during which the easy and comfortable atmosphere seems to shift a little. The air turns a little more intense, and all of a sudden you find yourself growing somewhat uncomfortably aware of how close he’s actually sitting to you.

“Hey,” He murmurs with a soft sigh. “I know we’re joking about it, but you really do deserve better. You know that, right?”

You glance down at your hands, fidgeting with your fingers. You guess you do know that, on some level, but you’ve never truly had a crush this intense on anyone before — and you’ve certainly never actually had anyone on his level interested in you before, even if that interest only extends so far as taking what he wants from your body.

“Maybe.” You mumble non-committedly, setting your glass back on the table. It’s almost full still; you don’t particularly want to drink anymore.

Geiszler shuffles in his seat, before reaching out and placing his hand cautiously but firmly across your thigh.

The touch has your back stiffening, your posture going ram-rod straight in your chair as you turn to look at him in disbelief. It’s an unusually intimate touch from him, one that has connotations that are more than friendly. But then he leans in, and ends up practically hanging off your shoulder in an effort to keep his balance.

You relax, if only slightly. Is he so drunk that he hasn’t even noticed where his hand has fallen?

But then Geiszler speaks again, and any thoughts that his hand placement may have been accidental are dashed. “Listen, I’ve… I’ve liked you for a while now. And it’s been kinda tough to see you mooning over Quaritch — I could treat you so much better. I would treat you so much better.”

Your stomach sinks, dread weighing it down heavily until it feels as though it's sitting on the floor. “Oh. Geiszler, I don’t-”

But Geiszler just keeps ploughing ahead.

“The dildo thing was a joke, but I also thought that– well, that maybe you just needed to get that curiosity out of your system. And then you actually got with him, which is fine by the way! I don’t mind! But now I’m thinking that surely you’ve worked out all your curiosity about how Na’vi sex works-”

Your mouth falls open, horrified. Is that what he thought was happening? That you were just ‘working out your curiosity’? Did he really think that your feelings were so inconsequential that they could be gotten over so easily?

“-I thought that, well, since it’s so obvious that Quaritch isn’t interested in you in the same way you are him, that maybe you’d realise it was time to move on. And I know that you’re upset, but I’m right here. And I swear I’d be good to you-”

“Jesus,” You blurt, rearing back.

To your horror, Geiszler just shuffles closer yet again. Maybe the alcohol has given him delusional levels of self-confidence, because he doesn’t even seem to notice how you’re attempting to pull away from him.

“The guys in the lab still laugh over how moony-eyed you get over him, you know,” He says, as though to compound your embarrassment. “Especially considering all he really does is ignore you. I would never do that. I’d never leave lonely like that. I’d– I’d sleep with you every night — And I don't just mean sex! Sex would be great too, obviously, amazing even, but I want you in my bed every night, just sleeping. I want to be able to curl up behind you and hold you close, and I could keep you warm under all the blankets-"

“Fucking hell, Geiszler-” You blurt, attempting to slap his hand away from your thigh. It stays firmly planted, and he just keeps leaning in as he babbles away.

It’s like he’s taken the few minor complaints you had made about your little thing with Quaritch (details that you had only shared because you thought you had been gossiping with a friend!) and used it to fuel his confidence in coming onto you. You can’t even escape because he’s right in front of you; he’s not a particularly large man, but he’s drunk and heavy and leaning on you in such a way that you’re struggling to get out from beneath his weight.

“Stop,” You order firmly, trying to push at his shoulder as gently as you can manage. It seems to have no effect; he just keeps ploughing ahead as though you hadn’t spoken at all.

“I know that it’s not going to be the same as when you’re with Quaritch, obviously,” He says, speaking even quicker now as if he knows you’re going to try and interrupt, “There are some pretty obvious physical differences, but I would make you feel good — I know I would-”

“Geiszler,” You attempt a reasoning sort of tone, but you’re too impatient for it to sound convincing. “Seriously. I– I consider you a friend, but I don’t see you like–”

He doesn’t even let you finish. His face contorts in a frown, cheeks all flushed from the alcohol. Honestly, he looks a little pathetic like this.

“But I’d treat you better than he does.” He says, leaning forward insistently as though he just can’t understand what the problem is. “I actually like you. If it’s– if it’s sexual compatibility you’re worried about-”

“It’s not!”

“I don’t think it’d be a problem! I'd take you gentle and slow and give you everything you deserve. Or I could pull your hair and take you hard if that's what you wanted, either! I’ll do anything you want, honestly.”

You recoil at that, your face scrunching up in distaste. The thought alone makes your body tense; you can’t think of anything less arousing.

Your attention is momentarily pulled away from Geiszler’s pitiful grovelling by a quiet scuffling sound by the door. You glance over, distracted, before doing a goddamn double take. You think for a moment you’re hallucinating, shock and dread pooling in your stomach at the sight of a familiar tall blue figure standing in the doorway.

The sight of Quaritch leaning lazily against the doorframe with his arms crossed nearly makes you scream. You have no idea how long he’s been standing there, but his expression is decidedly unimpressed. 

“Oh.” You blurt, staring at him wide-eyed.

Quaritch doesn’t even say anything. One of his eyebrows just creeps higher, before his eyes wander down over your body and land on Geiszler’s hand clasped around your thigh. His glare hardens, his mouth firming into a thin line.

Embarrassment floods you with prickly heat, and you take a deep, somewhat panicked breath. He has no reason to be angry with you, you tell yourself frantically. This is the first time he’s bothered to come looking for you in weeks!

Besides, you’re not actually doing anything wrong! Quartich had told you clearly that he wasn’t looking for anything serious and had never made any kind of attempt at discussing just what the hell you two were doing together, so it’s not as though he can be surprised that you’ve maybe decided to spend time with someone else. It’s unfortunate that he’s arrived to hear Geiszler’s gross drunken confession, but what can you do?

Geiszler, distressingly, doesn’t even seem to notice that you’re looking over his shoulder with a distinctly horrified expression.

“I just want you to feel good. You can sit on my face – I don’t even care if I can’t breathe-” He rambles his fingers squeezing hopefully around your thigh even as you try to pry his hand off.

Your expression drops, your eyes squeezing shut. The humiliation swells, thick and choking. You feel utterly pinned down and trapped by the combination of Quaritch’s big yellow eyes and the feeling of Geiszler’s sweaty palm clutching at your bare thigh. 

Before you can shut Geiszler down or even point out that you’re not alone anymore, Quaritch pushes himself off the doorframe and steps into the room properly.

“Nice offer,” He drawls, his eyes sharp and bright as he watches Geiszler like a cat stalking a mouse. “But she won’t be needing that.”

The sound of Quaritch’s voice is more effective in getting Geiszler’s hands off you than any of your own protests or pushing, because he whips his hands back and whirls. His movements are sloppy from the alcohol and he nearly overbalances off his chair when he spins around to get a look at who has just walked in.

The blood visibly drains out of Geiszler’s face as he tilts his head back to stare up at the towering form of Quaritch as he steps closer. You can’t blame him; Quaritch looks scary right now, all clench-jawed and sharp-eyed as he stalks forward with curiously animal grace.

And yet, Geiszler seems gripped by what is either drunken bravery or sheer stupidity, because he squares his shoulders and sets his jaw as he stares up at Quaritch.

“Why are you here?” He demands belligerently. “Leave her alone!”

Quaritch tilts his head, before his mouth widens into a mean smile. “I’m not the one sexually harassing her, puke. Why don’t you beat it now, hm?”

You groan quietly, burying your face in your hands. How could things have developed like this? You find yourself burning with humiliation, wishing that the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

Geiszler doesn’t seem to be getting the message at all. He grabs at your waist possessively, heedless of the way you jolt and hiss at him, or the way you try slapping his hands away.

“She doesn’t even want you!” Geiszler declares stupidly, slurring a little.

That declaration doesn’t garner the reaction that Geiszler had been expecting. Quaritch’s expression turns unmistakably amused, his lips tilting up into a smug kind of smirk. He doesn’t even bother arguing back; instead, he reaches forward and takes a hold of the back of Geiszler’s shirt with a single, enormous hand.

It’s almost comical how easily Quaritch is able to lift Geiszler, using his grip on the back of his shirt to haul him into the air like a bold puppy even as he kicks and flails. It doesn’t even seem to take any effort on his part; Quaritch looks bored as he turns and marches Geiszler to the door, before tossing him through the entryway without fanfare.

The door slides shut, and then suddenly you and Quaritch are alone together. His big hand slaps at the button to lock the door, and the hydraulics hiss as the locking mechanisms engage.

Panic seizes you. Fuck. This is what you’ve been hoping to avoid! 

When Quaritch turns back to face you, you blurt out, “What the fuck was that?”

Quaritch pauses. It’s clear that this isn’t the reaction he had been expecting of you, because he sends you a look of pure disbelief, raising his eyebrows so high that his brow wrinkles from the effort of it.

“You better be joking, darlin’.” He says, an edge of warning in his voice as he steps back over to you.

That little hint of danger in his tone is enough to send a shiver down your spine, but you keep your shoulders back and your chin jutted out stubbornly.

“I was handling it.” You say simply, folding your arms across your chest and scowling at him. “He was just drunk and stupid, he didn’t-”

Quaritch snorts, then swiftly closes the distance between you. You hardly even get a chance to react before he’s right in front of you, crouching down so he can talk to you at eye level.

“Don’t tell me he didn’t mean it,” He says, his voice low and full of warning. “I'm surprised he didn't come in his pants the second he touched you. The only thing he's wanted for months now is to get in between your legs.”

He sounds… jealous? It’s almost hard to believe. Only a short time ago, you would have been delighted at the thought. But now, you feel your impatience bubbling up, close to overflowing. He has no right to jealousy!

“What happens between my legs is none of your business,” You snap, your arms tightening defensively over your chest. “I can’t see why the fuck it would matter to you whether he touches me or not.”

Quaritch’s eyes flare wide for a moment, his lips pressed together tight as he watches you intently.

“Don’t take that fucking tone with me,” He warns quietly, his voice low and even and sort of terrifying. “You telling me you let all those cockless little losers touch up on you like that? You telling me that's not my business?”

You almost choke, shocked by the sheer audacity of the man. Though his eyes are still flashing from the warning over your tone, he’s obviously amused by you, as though he thinks this whole conversation is just a little joke.

You narrow your eyes and tilt your chin up boldly as you scowl up at him. “Yes. I could let the whole fucking science department in between my legs, and it still wouldn't be any of your business."

Infuriatingly, that just makes Quaritch laugh. He shuffles closer to you, leaning his head down so close to you that you’re practically breathing each other’s air. One of his hands reaches out and clasps you by your hip, so big and hot as it pins you in place.

“You’re mouthy today,” He murmurs, fangs gleaming as he grins. “Does arguing like this get you wet, kid? You need to work off some steam?” 

Your face floods with heat as embarrassment burns through you. It's crass, but there's no denying that somewhere deep down you sort of do enjoy arguing with him. He never seems to have much patience for folly usually, and yet he meets your slightly bratty behaviour with amusement and a condescending grin. 

Quaritch is watching your expression carefully, and that smug grin only grows at whatever he sees there.

“Oh, you do like it.” He crows softly. “You want me angry, honey? You want to be put in your place?”

His hand drifts lower, coasting over the swell of your ass, and your breath catches in your throat — you nearly choke on it. Under your burning indignation, you feel heat coiling between your legs and you hate it.

“No,” You wheeze out, squirming as he leans in. You’ve ended up trapped between him and the desk behind you, pressed right up against it as he looms closer. “No. I’m angry at you.”

That makes him pause, the progress of his hand sliding down your ass halting. He leans back so that he can look at you properly, and squints at you. His expression is reminiscent of an old man peering at a piece of technology that he can’t work, and that thought has you forcibly biting down a hysterical giggle. The reminder that he’s so much older than you, even in this body, always sends an exciting sort of thrill running through you.

“You’re angry with me.” Quaritch repeats slowly, as though tasting how the words sound in his mouth. He doesn’t appear impressed. “And is this the same reason that you’ve suddenly been avoiding me?”

Ah. So he had noticed your absence. 

You keep your jaw set stubbornly, refusing to be cowed by his big intense eyes and overwhelming presence as he looms over you.

“Maybe.” You say shortly. “I don’t see why it matters.”

Quaritch damn near does a double take at that. He leans back, his brows drawing into a frustrated frown as he peers down at you. His reaction would be comical if you weren’t so busy trying to maintain your own composure.

“The hell..?” He mutters, before leaning back in with a scowl. “What the hell’s the matter with you, huh? For the past few months you’ve been everywhere, watching me every time I turned around, and then all of a sudden you just disappear the last few days and start acting all pissy. What the fuck happened, huh?”

You keep your arms crossed defensively over your chest as you glare at him, growing angry and defensive. He’s still got his hand spread across your ass, which makes it difficult to effectively scowl at him, but you manage all the same.

“You don’t have to act like you care. I get that I’ve been annoying and desperate and pathetic chasing after you, and I get that you’ve been fucking me out of- I don’t know, convenience or pity or whatever-”

“What–”

You plough on before Quaritch can interrupt you. “-But that doesn’t mean that it’s okay to treat me like shit, or to laugh at me–”

“When the fuck have I laughed at you?” Quaritch is clearly struggling to stay calm, but he’s never been a patient person and irritation is creeping very obviously into his demeanour. His shoulders are tense and his mouth is tight, his hand clenching in the back of your dress and scrunching it up against your ass.

“You think I’m stupid!” You burst out, that one stupid conversation with Geiszler still sitting at the forefront of your mind.

Quaritch just stares at you with the blankest expression you’ve ever seen. He doesn’t even look annoyed anymore, he just looks fed up.

“No,” He rumbles, using his grip on your ass to pull you closer to where he’s crouching on his haunches. “I don’t think you’re stupid. I do think you’re acting like a goddamn brat right now though, and I’m still waiting for an explanation.”

You swallow, some of the fight draining out of you. He’s not reacting like you had expected him to; you had thought he would scoff at you, or maybe even get angry at you for your unreasonable behaviour. But instead, you’ve got him looking at you with mildly irritated confusion, and he’s actually trying to get you to explain your feelings to him. It’s not how you thought this would go, and now you’re feeling a little wrong-footed.

You glance to the side, unable to meet his gaze. 

“I haven’t seen you in weeks,” You mumble trying not to sound petulant. “It was always me who came looking for you, and everyone has been laughing at me for ages now about how pathetic I am for mooning after you like I have been. I mean– fuck! Even now, the only times you’ve ever come to see me is after I’ve ignored you! It’s like you only want me when you think I won’t have you–”

Quaritch makes a soft scoffing noise in the back of his throat before reaching out and grabbing you by the wrist in an effort to stop you talking. It doesn’t work; you just get upset, and reach up to smack him on the chest. He doesn’t even blink as the blow glances off his chest, as though your fists are of no more consequence than a mildly irritating fly.

“Stop that.” He orders, sharp as ever. “Jesus, kid. Where’s all this coming from, huh? I leave for two weeks and you have a breakdown?”

That makes you pause, chest still heaving, just so you can stare blankly at him. The arms that you had crossed so defensively over your chest loosen just a little.

“You left?” You repeat, frowning.

That makes Quaritch snort, his eyes rolling. “All this cryin’ and you didn’t even notice? What’re you so upset over, then?”

“I-” You fumble, blinking wildly. You had been upset because you had been thinking that your relationship with Quaritch was entirely one-sided, all because Geiszler had suggested that he was using you for just sex. “I just– Geiszler said that–”

Quaritch’s expression darkens, his eyes narrowing. He doesn’t even let you finish, leaning in so that his face is pressed right up close to yours. For a moment, he says nothing; just watches you as you stutter and slowly trail off into silence.

You swallow, then try again. “He said that everyone was laughing at me. Because I like you a lot, and you’ve been ignoring me the best you can. So I stopped going looking for you or asking about you, for weeks, to see if you’d come to me and you didn’t–”

“Because I wasn’t here, kid.” Quaritch snaps, before taking a deep breath. It seems like him snapping at you was accidental, because he then makes a concentrated effort to keep his tone level. “The team was sent out on recon two weeks ago into the lowlands. You’ve been getting all twisted up in knots over nothing.”

Your mouth drops open, and you’re left gaping up at him like a total moron. Hot, thick embarrassment is beginning to curl in your stomach; Geiszler had never thought to mention that Quaritch wasn’t even in Bridgehead when you were all upset about him ignoring you, and that bastard definitely knew considering how close he was with the xeno guys that worked with the recoms. Fuck, you’ve just made a total fool of yourself.

“Oh.” You whisper, blinking at him as you stare back into his unwavering amber eyes. “I– I didn’t know.”

But Quaritch isn’t about to accept that as an answer so easily. His lips curl into a dangerous sort of grin, his eyelids sliding half-closed as he watches you, his face still so close to yours that your gaze keeps darting nervously down towards his mouth. He still hasn’t moved the hand on your ass, and you let out a startled little exhale when he flexes his grip to get a better handle on you.

“I only got back two days ago. I did come looking for you, but some of the guys out in the main lab said you weren’t in.” He says, speaking slowly and purposefully as though he thinks you’re not listening. “So I came today instead. Now, are you finished acting like a fucking lunatic?”

He had come looking for you? No one had ever mentioned that, you think wildly. And the guys in the main lab told him you weren’t in? That didn’t even make any sense – you were always in. You think back to Geiszler, and of his gentle insistence that Quaritch was uninterested, and feel your stomach sink slowly. You had thought he was your friend; your brain rebels at the idea that he was possibly planting doubts in your head just so he could worm his way closer and confess like that to you.

“So,” You say, frowning as your lower lip wobbles a little. “Geiszler was lying to me?”

Quaritch just tilts his head back and sighs through his nose, as though praying for patience. He’s usually such a foul-mouthed hard-ass that seeing him actually make an attempt to regulate himself when you’re upset is a little heart-warming, though you still feel stupid for allowing yourself to be pulled in by him.

“Why would you trust the little creep that’s been sending you sex toys and asking you questions about your sex life, huh?” He asks, his voice a little strained as though he’s forcing patience.

You just purse your lips, still frowning. “I thought we were friends.”

Quaritch just takes a breath and decides not to respond to that. Instead, the hand that’s not still holding you by the ass reaching back around to his back pocket, and he grapples with something there for a moment.

“Here, I got something for you. So no more sulking, got it?”

He doesn’t even give you any time to make any promises before he pulls something out from behind his back. It takes a moment to recognise it as a sample container, and it takes an even longer moment to recognise the pale pink tissue that’s curled up on the inside.

When recognition finally clicks, you let out a squealing gasp before you reach up to grab it.

“Holy shit! Holy shit, you got a biological specimen of the panopyra?”

Quaritch just grunts, but his tail curls in the air behind him. He’s clearly smug about his little gift to you, though his expression is still curiously hard to read. He stays quiet for a few moments as you study the sample in the plastic container, eagerly oohing and ahhhing in regular intervals.

You let out a soft, excited squeal again, beyond excited. You may have finished your dissertation, but you’re already eagerly planning your next research project and this sample will be perfect for that. You raise your head to look at him, directing your bright, sunny grin in his direction.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you-”

Quaritch just snorts, though his ears twitch in obvious satisfaction. “Yeah, yeah. You’re an easy little thing to please, ain’tcha?”

You don’t take offence to that; this is the second time that Quaritch has delivered panopyra samples to you in order to calm you down, and it’s been embarrassingly effective each time.

“I’ve been wanting to get my hands on a sample like this for months-!” You gush, clutching it tight to your chest as you bounce on your toes.

Quaritch just hums. He seems content enough to watch you giggle over the sample, but when you move to walk towards the sample fridge his hand tightens around your ass and keeps you still and pinned by his body.

“Where’re you going?”

“I need to put this in the fridge-”

“Nuh uh,” He murmurs, reaching out to take the container off of you and setting it firmly to the side on the desktop. “You ain’t going near that damn fridge. You telling me you’ve forgotten that little reward you promised me?”

That makes your breath catch in your throat, surprised anticipation bubbling in your belly. You had forgotten that particular promise, but now you find an excited smile growing on your face. And yet, even now, you feel a little hesitant.

“No,” You murmur, suddenly feeling a little shy. “I remember.”

His enormous blue hands coast up along your sides, ruffling the skirt of your dress and dragging it up slightly to expose more of your thighs. You let him, even leaning eagerly into his touch.

“You’ve been feeling neglected, huh?” He asks, his voice dropping into a low rumble that vibrates right into your chest. “That’s why you’re all pissy, right? You’ve been wanting more attention?”

“Yes,” You whisper stupidly, pressing into his hands as his palms glide along your lower back to rest on your ass again. “Yes.”

That makes him laugh, all deep and a little condescending as he leans in towards you. He takes a slow, deep inhale, his big flat nose pressed near your neck as he lets out a soft little groan of satisfaction.

“Fuck,” He rumbles. “I can smell you, kid. Arguing really does get you wet, doesn’t it?”

You flush with embarrassed heat, closing your eyes so that you don’t have to see him looking at you like that. It wasn’t the arguing that had affected you as much as the closeness and the overwhelming presence of Miles as he leaned in over you, impossibly big as he dealt with you with all the patience he could muster even when you were admittedly being a bit of a brat.

When you don’t answer, he sticks a hand under your dress and drags his fingers experimentally along the damp cotton of your underwear. You let out a sharp noise of surprise, but you can’t stop yourself from pressing down into his hand all the same.

“Oh yeah,” He grunts, sounding ridiculously pleased. “Needy little thing. I bet that pathetic little science bitch could just smell it off you – no wonder he was sniffin’ around you like that.”

“Miles,” You breathe, reaching out to hold onto his shoulders as he pulls you closer so that he can dip his fingers into your panties. “Please-”

He chuckles, and tucks his head into your neck before delivering a stinging little warning bite to your shoulder that has your knees weakening. “I know what I want for my reward.”

“Yeah?” You ask, starting to grin.

Your stomach twitches in anticipation, and you cling to him all the harder. You can only imagine what he’s going to ask for; your mind conjures images of you on your knees, the hot thickness of his cock heavy on your tongue as he moans over your head. You press your thighs together eagerly as you watch him, waiting for him to make another move.

But Quaritch doesn’t answer immediately. He just pulls back a little, ignoring your soft noise of complaint, before nosing his way down your torso. He stops when he gets to your navel and takes a deep breath, huffing quietly as he smells you. You can’t even be self-conscious about it, because judging by the pleased grunt he lets out he likes what he’s smelling.

“Drivin’ me crazy here,” He mumbles into your belly, hiking your dress up higher around your waist. “I’ve been thinking about this all week.”

You take a breath, your hands clenching around the thin fabric of his wifebeater. The knowledge that he’s been thinking of you is heady, especially since you had pretty much convinced yourself that he didn’t want you anywhere near him.

“Miles,” You whisper, reaching for his belt. “Do you want me to-”

But to your surprise, he pushes your hand away.

“Nah, honey,” He murmurs, his head dipping lower until that flat nose is pressed right up against the seat of your cotton panties. “Let me do my thing.”

You don’t think you could ever muster up the self-discipline to refuse him that, so all you can do is nod dumbly as he nuzzles his face into your clothed pussy. 

He inhales deeply into the crease of your thigh, before letting out a quiet little grunt. “You smell like strawberries. What is that?”

“My- my body lotion.” You wheeze, shivering against his face as you tilt your hips eagerly towards him.

“Yeah? Fuck, that’s good.” He breathes you in, before licking you through the fabric of your panties.

You jolt a little, and then one of Quaritch’s big hands closes around your thigh and pulls your leg up and over his shoulder. You abandon your hold on his shoulders in favour of grabbing at his head, your fingers scrabbling uselessly over his short hair.

The position opens you up to his hungry mouth, but it also leaves you a little unsteady on your feet; you’re only standing on one leg, the other thrown over his shoulder as he knees between your thighs, all hunched over so that he can fit his head between your legs. You’re still pressed up against the desk, which is probably the only reason you haven’t overbalanced and fallen on your ass.

“Miles-” You start to protest, muscles in your thighs already burning, but he cuts you off with a swift, stinging slap to your ass. There’s hardly any strength behind it, but it’s enough to warn you off complaining. 

The message is clear; this is his reward, and you’re to let him take it. Truthfully, you’re only happy to, and you press your hips towards his face eagerly as he licks insistently at your clit through the damp cloth barrier of your panties.

“You taste so good, kid.” He grunts against your cunt, pulling you against his face so that his words come out muffled and distorted.

“Pervert.” You say, your voice low and ragged as if you hadn’t been the one humping your cunt up against his face.

Quaritch just laughs, his grip on your thighs tightening. God, he’s so patient with you. It just makes you wetter.

When he pulls away, you almost whine. He looks amused at your reaction, though you don’t think he has much room to laugh at you; his own pupils are blown wide, the gold around his iris only a thin line around the edge as his ears twitch eagerly.

“Come on,” He grunts, his strong fingers squeezing at your ass as he hauls you forward so that you’re all pressed up against his body. “Come here to me, darlin’-”

You yelp a little, surprised when he uses his leverage on you to hold you tight as he rolls back on his heels. In a movement that’s almost too quick for you to follow, Quaritch leans back so that he’s laying on the ground all spread out beneath you. You end up straddling his chest, your knees all splayed out on either side of his waist with your dress all rucked up around your hips.

“Ain’t that a pretty sight,” Quaritch coos, reaching out to run his hands all over your thighs, pushing your dress up even higher. “Fuck, mama, just look at you. Take this off, c’mon.”

You don’t even hesitate. His gaze is searing, and you feel hot and overwhelmed under his attention – you just want to please him, to make him happy, and so you reach for your dress and pull it off eagerly.

When you’re left sitting on his chest in nothing but your underwear, Quaritch lets out a soft huff of appreciation. His eyes dart rapidly over your body, before reaching up and wrapping his thick fingers into the fabric of your panties. He tears them like paper, ripping them right off you with ease before doing the same to your bra, ignoring your shout of indignation.

“Oh, you bastard, why would you do that? I don’t have unlimited underwear on this fucking planet-!” You start to complain, but Quaritch obviously isn’t listening to a damn word you’re saying.

“Still so fucking mouthy,” He rumbles though he doesn’t really sound annoyed about it. If anything, he sounds amused.

When his hands grab at your hips, his long fingers squeezing at the plush softness of your thighs as he pulls you up further on his chest, you start to grin. This position feels familiar, and when you glance over your shoulder you can see the prominent bulge in his camo trousers.

You think of the reward he’s requested, and butterflies erupt in your tummy at the thought – you had initially guessed that he might want a blowjob, but now you’re guessing he wants something else based on this position you’re in.

“Want me to ride you?” You ask, biting at your lip as you grin at him coyly. The idea is exciting, and you try not to look too eager for it.

Quaritch just grins back at you, his sharp teeth on full display as his nose crinkles a little. He manages to make what should be an innocuous expression look intimidatingly cheeky, and he watches you with great interest as you grind lightly against his muscled chest.

“Yeah,” He says, his grin turning wicked. “Something like that.”

But then his hands land firmly on your ass and push you up his chest, away from his dick. You go with great confusion, your expression all scrunched up as he pushes you toward his face.

“Sit on my face, honey. Come on.”

You nearly jolt, staring at him in disbelief. “I– wait, what? I can’t do that-”

Quaritch makes an impatient noise in the back of his throat, and doesn’t stop his tugging at you. He’s strong too, so he’s able to pull you right up to his head with minimal effort.

“I had to listen to your creepy little friend talk about every wet dream he’s about you,” He points out, his lip curling as he stares up at you. “And now you’re refusing me this? Come on, mama, let me get my mouth on you.”

His hands are strong and persistent, and you end up with your knees splayed out around Quaritch’s head, hovering nervously above his face. It’s an embarrassingly exposed position to be in, and you take a shaky breath as you stare down at him between your legs. When his tongue pokes out to lick at his lips, you feel your stomach tighten in eager anticipation.

“I-” You flounder, mortified. “I’ll crush you.”

That makes him laugh, teeth flashing.

“You can try, kid.” He says, his smile so sharp that it nearly takes your breath away. “You can try.”

Maybe it’s the fact that he appears genuinely eager about getting his mouth on your pussy, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s still so obviously irritated by what he had overheard when Geiszler was running his mouth earlier, but you find yourself willing to give it a chance. You’ve never tried anything like this before, but Quaritch clearly feels as though he has something to prove – who are you to deny him the chance to show off that he’s so obviously craving?

The next time his hands come to rest over your hips, you allow him to slowly lower you down until his mouth is laid over your cunt. When he opens wide, the hot wet roughness of his tongue sliding over the swollen heat of your clit, you grab at the short bristly hair at the top of his head and jerk your hips away from him.

“Oh!” You blurt, startled at the sensation. It’s so much more intense than you had been expecting – Quaritch has eaten your pussy before, many times, but it’s different being on the receiving end of it when your whole weight is leaning down on him like this.

Quaritch laughs again, low enough that it rumbles up your spine and between your legs. He tilts his head, obviously testing your grip on his hair, and grins wickedly up at you.

“Got a good grip, mama?” He asks in a tone that suggests you’ll need it.

“I– oh!” You wheeze a shocked breath when he pulls your hips back down, so firmly that you can’t even think of lifting away from him as he opens his mouth wide to welcome your cunt.

Even sitting on top of his face with a hand clenched in his hair, you don’t have much control over this. You gasp, trailing off into a moan as Quaritch’s tongue works its way inside you. He's meaner with it now, never staying where you want him, riling you up and then pulling away, placing warning bites on your thighs or your clit when you complain or whine too much.

Embarrassingly, you do need that grip on his hair. Your fingers clench tight in the short but soft bristles of his hair, rolling your hips up, trying to get Quaritch where you want him. His big hands curl around your thighs and keep you pinned to his face, relentless with his tongue.

You direct his mouth to the best of your ability, with words and the occasional tug on his hair, moans falling from your lips as he licks and sucks at your pussy. Quaritch mostly ignores your tugging, pulling at your hips in turn to keep you where he wants you; mindless, you go where you’re told, move where you’re pushed, each small groan and whimper that falls from your lips just spurring him on more.

It feels so much better than you had expected. Your previous hesitancy has completely vanished, and you find yourself grinding your pussy down against his mouth hard as you chase his tongue. He’s so big, so strong, you’re not worried about hurting him like you would be if he was human. The thought of you being enough to crush him is almost laughable.

The rough texture of his tongue rasps over your clit and you shiver hard, a soft cry ripped from your throat. You feel animal, mindless, and you clutch at his hair tight as you hold his head still, your hips bucking wildly against him as you grind your clit into his tongue. 

The pleasure of it nearly steals your breath away, air catching in your chest as you rut your hips into his mouth messily, clumsily. It must be difficult for him to breathe, and yet he doesn’t complain. He doesn’t even make any attempt to slow you down, or to tell you to go easy; he just groans into you, his grip on your hips tightening as his hips hump the air behind you.

You wonder if he was this fucking eager when he was human, or if it’s his new Na’vi senses that makes him so fucking horny for this. His sense of smell is superior now, as is his sense of taste, and his sensitive ears means that he is hyper-aware of every twitch, every moan, every minor reaction. It seems like he’s determined to use his new senses to absolutely devour you.

You’re humping your cunt into his wide, eager mouth hard enough that you probably would have caused a pretty serious neck injury if he were human, but he’s just grunting eagerly into you, his little noises vibrating right up into your clit as his hands on your ass encourage you to ride his face harder. Who are you to deny him what he wants? You fuck your pussy into his mouth just as he wants you to, unrestrained in a way you could never be with a human partner.

That tight coil of pleasured heat trembles deep in your belly, your breaths coming hard and fast as you wheeze. Your orgasm is creeping up on you shamefully quickly; you’re shocked by the sheer speed of it.

“Oh god,” you moan stupidly. “Wait. Wait, wait, wait!”

With an embarrassing squelching sort of noise, Quaritch’s mouth finally detaches from your pussy. He pulls back, already frowning. 

“What?”

His voice is gravelly enough to have you shivering with the sound of it alone, and you gasp, lungs burning as your chest heaves for air.

“I’m gonna come,” You squeal, your hips still twitching. The air in the lab is cold against your sweat-slick skin, and you’re already desperate to feel his mouth on you again. “Fuck! I was- I was gonna come.”

Quaritch just grunts, clearly displeased that you had interrupted his efforts just to make an announcement like that. “Then come.”

He moves to lean back in, but a swift jab to his head has him pausing with a scowl. He’s breathing hard, his eyes a little hazy and unfocused, his mouth slick and shining. There’s a glimmer of sweat along his brow and his chest, his little bioluminescent dots glowing brightly. He’s so pretty – you want to sit on his face again just so you can stop looking at it, overwhelmed by how handsome he is.

“Are you-” You shiver, trying to lean away from the heat of his breath as it ghosts over your slick skin. “Are you gonna fuck me?”

“Maybe later,” He grunts, taking the opportunity to clumsily lift up his CO2 respirator to take a sip of air. “C’mon, sit back down.”

“I wanna come with you inside me,” You say. You’re trying not to sound whiny, but you’re pretty sure you miss the mark. 

“Greedy,” Quaritch grunts. He bites at your thigh, a little harshly. “This ain’t for you. This is my reward, remember?”

The whimper you let out is a little embarrassing, but you nod all the same, unable to resist him. He seems satisfied with that all the same, and lays his head back down against the floor. He shifts a little as though getting comfortable, before gesturing at you with his chin.

“C’mon, princess, let’s go. Keep grinding on me like that – I liked it.”

“Okay,” You breathe, allowing your hips to be guided back down onto his open mouth. 

His tongue moves eagerly and with purpose, tracing a slick path up and around your clit and making you writhe against his mouth as his hands keep you pinned to his face. His tongue keeps working you until you’re beyond slick, dripping and trembling all over his mouth and chin. The palm of his hand is laid flat against your ass, and he uses it to push at you gently, trying to coax you into moving against him like before.

Your thighs are shaking a little, but you still push yourself to move. Your fingers clench and unclench in his hair, knuckles burning from the force of your grip, before you start to move your hips insistently against his mouth again.

“Oh, god.” You sigh, closing your eyes against the force of the heat coiling in your belly. “Oh fuck, Miles, please keep doing that-”

He sucks at your clit hard, thrusts his large tongue inside of you. Licks at you hard and flat before suckling at you with vigour as you grind and rock like a mad thing against his face. You feel like you’re losing your mind, as though his tongue is actually fucking you stupid.

You can’t help it; when his tongue is laid flat against your whole cunt, dripping drool between your legs, you start grinding against his mouth desperately. It feels unbelievably good, and you let out pathetic little mewling moans as you hump your pussy against his face. He holds out his tongue for you to use, and you use it eagerly.

When you finally come, you nearly cry with the relief of it. Pleasure fizzes up your spine, emanating from where you’re rubbing your clit frantically against the mind-blowing texture of Quaritch’s tongue, and you throw your head back as your hips spasm. Your mouth opens wide as you gasp for breath, but you can’t even find the air to make a sound as you shake apart on Quaritch’s tongue.

But it’s only a short-term relief, because Quaritch doesn’t let up. His tongue just keeps going, and soon you’re crying out and trying to squirm desperately away, but you're unable to go far as his hands are like iron bars around your thighs keeping you in place. It's like he’s using his goddamn mouth as a weapon, and you’re soon over-sensitive and teary-eyed.

“Miles,” You gasp, wheezing as a few overwhelmed tears spill over onto your cheeks. “Miles, it’s too much, too much-”

“You can take it.” He grunts, and you can feel him grinning into your pussy.

You shudder, clutching his hair tight as you jerk your hips against his mouth. “Fuck,” You wail, long and drawn out, “I can’t, I can’t-”

He laughs, so mean, the sound rumbling into your cunt and making you whine. He doesn’t let up for a second, and soon you go from twitching away from his mouth to pressing eagerly back down against his tongue. His ears twitch where they’re pressed up tight against your thighs, no doubt eagerly taking in all the pitiful little gasps and whines spilling from your lips.

“Miles, Miles, oh, fuck, Miles-” You babble senselessly, your eyes squeezing shut tight as you rock mindlessly against his face. 

“Whiny bitch,” He says, turning his head to bite at the soft pudge of your thigh. He sounds fond. “All that cryin’ about not being able to take it, but look at you go.”

And with that, he buries his face firmly back into your cunt.

A second orgasm is creeping up on you so quickly that you can hardly believe it, your whole body slick from sweat and trembling from the sheer strain rocking your body. Quaritch’s tongue is absolutely relentless, his mouth sealing over your clit as his hand coasts over your ass. 

Two of his big fingers prod at your entrance before sliding inside of you, the stretch made easy from how slick and wet you are. You cry out hoarsely, head tilting back toward the ceiling; one of his fingers alone is enough to have your head spinning as it nudges insistently at the soft spongey spot deep inside you that makes your legs tremble, but two feel so satisfying.

You cry out again as you writhe on his face, humping into his mouth and grinding back on his fingers, but no matter where you squirm you can't get away from Quaritch’s vicious mouth and probing fingers – you don’t even know if you want to. 

There's no relief; your first orgasm has barely abated before you can feel another one building, as Quaritch forcibly and relentlessly pushes you back to the edge. 

It's so much. It’s too much. You’re sobbing and begging, although for what you’re not sure, since you’re asking Quaritch for more just as often as you’re asking him to stop. He’s added another finger by now, sucking hard on your clit as he fingers you until your eyes are rolling.

You don’t even know half of the shit that’s coming out of your mouth right now; it’s a frantic mix of Miles and please and oh god more and oh my god I'm gonna-!, and then an embarrassing amount of incoherent sobbing. Something big is building inside of you, and you writhe above Quaritch as it builds up bigger and bigger until you’re sure you’re going to explode.

And then you do.

Your orgasm hits you like a goddamn train, crashing over you as your back arches and your muscles tense so tight that you nearly pull something.

Quaritch finally pulls his mouth back, but his fingers don’t stop; you come so hard that it practically bursts out of you, squirting all over his fingers and his chest.

“Holy fuck,” Quaritch says, surprised for a moment before he melts into a laugh. “Oh, fuck, look at you go, kid, Jesus Christ–”

You’re still shaking through the aftershocks of it, and it sounds as though his voice is coming from a very long way away. Even through the haze, when you look down between your legs you’re able to recognise the hungry, awestruck look on his face.

“Oh, god,” You choke out hoarsely, your words coming out on a wheeze. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t– I’ve never–”

Quaritch doesn’t even let you finish. He just grabs at your ass and sits up, holding you as if you weigh nothing before practically tossing you onto your back on the cold linoleum floor of the lab. Within the same second he’s crawling over you, big and imposing as his broad shoulders and muscular chest loom over you.

“The fuck are you apologising for?” He grunts, knocking your thighs aside so he can settle the bulk of his body into the cradle between your legs. “Jesus– c’mere, can you take me?”

You blink hazily, glancing down to see that he’s shoving his pants harshly down his legs and letting them pool around his knees. His cock is as impressive as ever, big and flushed pretty purple as it strains against his lower stomach.

You clench around nothing, feeling so miserably empty now that his fingers are no longer filling you up. You’ve gotten so used to taking the girth of him that now you find yourself craving that beautiful sensation of fullness he always gives you.

“Yes,” You gasp, spreading your thighs wider. “Yes, I can take you.”

That’s all he needs to hear. He pushes his cock inside of your soaking cunt with minimal difficulty despite the ridiculous size of him, though your eyes roll back in your head as you feel the burning pain of him stretching you before he slides deep enough inside that you just feel full.

“Atta girl,” He snarls, pushing his face into your throat and grunting as he grabs at one of your legs so he can pull your thigh up over his hip. “Fuck, you’ve gotten so good at this.”

It’s true – you have gotten good at this. Your body opens up around the thickness of his cock with relative ease now after the initial pain of his entry and all you can do is sigh dreamily at the sensation of being stuffed so full, tightening eagerly around him as he goes to pull out so he can push in again.

When Quaritch starts moving, he uses you like a goddamn sex toy, and you play the part so well. You’re still so fucked out and loose from the two intense orgasms he'd given you, your head still spinning as you gasp your heaving breaths every time he fucks into you. It feels like his cock is in your goddamn lungs, driving the breath out of you every time he humps into you.

His grip on your hips is bruising, every thrust sending your head lolling limply on your shoulders. You’ve already been immensely satisfied by your own orgasms; this is all about Quaritch. He lifts your hips to a better angle, your upper body all splayed out on the floor as he ruts into you sloppily.

“Shit, mama,” He groans, baring his teeth against your shoulder. “Fuck, that’s it. Oh, you’d be fucking wasted on one of those dickless little science majors, you know that? That little shit wouldn’t have the first idea how to handle you. You think you’d be satisfied with him?”

“No!” You sob, clenching up around Quaritch’s cock hard.

You hardly know which way is up, never mind who he’s talking about, as he uses his grip on your hips to pull you back and forth over his dick like you’re a goddamn doll. Being used like this, as though you weigh nothing, is so much hotter than you ever could have imagined. If you weren’t so fucked out, you think you probably would have appreciated this a lot more.

You can hardly even speak, unable to muster up the brainpower required to form words when you’re being fucked like this. You know that soft, breathy sort of moans are being driven out of you with every roll of Quaritch’s hips, soft little uh uh uh uh's, but you don’t have the presence of mind to regulate yourself.

Quaritch doesn’t last as long as usual; it seems like having you riding his face had worked him up far more than you had expected, because soon he’s coming with a snarled roar. To your surprise, he doesn’t come inside like he usually does.

Instead he pulls out, fists his cock, and spills his load all over your bare stomach. There’s a truly ridiculous amount of it considering his size, and it drips all over your belly, your hips, and even spills down over your pussy. You don’t complain; you can barely even form a coherent thought other than the quiet complaint you murmur because you feel so empty now.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Quaritch lowers himself down so that his chest is pressed to your naked breasts. He’s careful not to crush you, pushing his face into your throat and inhaling deeply before pressing a clumsy kiss to your temple. 

You’re still reeling, eyes unfocused and mind hazy and stupid as you turn your head and push your face into his chest. He’s so warm, and you shiver against him as he gathers you into his arms. As good as his fucking you is, having him cradle you like this in the aftermath is almost better. You relish the skin to skin contact, the way his thick fingers coast over your sweaty bare back.

You think you could probably lay there against his massive chest, floating in the aftermath, forever. You’re so comfortable, all loose and floaty and so, so satisfied, the thought of moving doesn’t even cross your mind.

So naturally, Quaritch decides to sit up with a grunt. You whine, reaching up to slap at his chest without opening your eyes. He pays you no mind, reaching to tuck himself away with one hand, using the other arm to hold you still against his chest.

“Fuck,” He grunts as he buttons up his trousers single-handedly. “I needed that. Missed you when I was out there in the jungle. Been thinking about that for weeks now.”

You let out an absentminded grunt, just to show you're listening. You’re still laying limp against his chest, turning your face into cushions of his pecs.

Quaritch laughs, clearly pleased with the job he’s done on you. You feel his nose nudge at the top of your head, and sigh contentedly, enjoying the intimacy of him holding you tight. But then his hand comes down to lay an open-palmed slap against your ass, and you jolt with a startled squawk at the sting.

“C’mon,” He grunts, pushing himself up. His grip on you loosens, and you slip bonelessly down to the floor. “Up and at ‘em.”

“What?” You mumble blearily, rolling your head around limply on your neck. You feel completely boneless, as though Quaritch has managed to fuck every bit of rigidity out of you.

To your bewilderment, Quaritch heaves himself to his feet. While you’ve been fucked dumb, Quaritch seems to have been energised by it. He rotates his waist, stretching his arms over his head with a wide-mouthed yawn that displays his sharp teeth, before rolling his shoulders in quick, sharp circles.

“Let's go get you some dinner.” He says, stretching his back. Something cracks in his spine and he moans in satisfaction. “You’ve been feeling neglected, yeah? I’ll get you some food.”

That’s not what you had meant by feeling neglected, and you roll your eyes and huff. You’re still laying completely nude on the floor, and you turn your face away from him. He’s still standing over you, hands on his hips as he waits for you to stand. When it becomes clear that you’re not going to be  getting up any time soon, he clicks his tongue impatiently. 

You yelp, startled, when his big hands fold around your waist and lift you right up off the floor. Your knees buckle under you when he sets you on your feet, and you stumble for a moment on wobbly legs like a newborn calf.

Quaritch doesn’t immediately move to steady you – when you glance up, you find him watching you with a poorly hidden smirk, clearly pleased with himself.

“Why can’t we rest for a damn minute?” You complain, reaching to hold tight to his arm as your legs tremble. “Fuck.”

Quaritch just snorts, watching you intently as your knees shake. “Quit the whining, princess. I’m doing something nice. There ain’t no fancy restaurants around here, in case you haven’t noticed. I’ll bring you to the commissary and get you food on my meal ticket – next best thing.”

There must be something seriously wrong with you, because you find yourself blushing over that.

“I have come all over me.” You complain, as he picks up your dress and tosses it to you. It hits your head and tangles you in it, and you attempt to wrangle your way out of it blindly.

“Mm.” He hums, rolling his shoulders as his eyes rove over your naked body. “So? I’ve got your squirt all over my face.”

You shoot him a dirty look, cheeks flooding with heat when you realise that he certainly does, because his face is still dripping with it. He’s a master of missing the point, and you suspect that he does it on purpose.

“We have to clean up before we go anywhere. I need a shower.” You sigh, reaching for a collection of tissues. You wipe at your belly, cleaning up the worst of the cum, before grabbing another handful and gesturing at him to lean down.

You’re somewhat surprised when he does as you ask, bending down and watching you with obvious amusement as you wipe the evidence of your release off his face. As you clean him he leans in, nostrils flaring as he sniffs. His eyes flutter half-shut, before he blinks them back open again.

“Nah,” He murmurs, his expression relaxing in a smirk of pure self-satisfaction. “You can take a shower later. C’mon – let’s get you that food.”

You’re still flushed and embarrassed as you wriggle your way back into your dress. You already know that you’re going to give in and do whatever he wants, but you’re still feeling argumentative and you don’t want to relent so easily.

“I don’t have any underwear.” You complain, tilting your head back to look at him. “You tore mine up-”

“You don’t need them,” He grunts dismissively, leaning against your desk as he watches you pull your dress into place. “No one else is gonna be looking up your skirt, anyway.”

You keep arguing anyway, even as he attempts to herd you towards the laboratory door. “Can’t we wait a little longer? I don’t wanna have to walk through the main lab and make eye contact with all the guys who know that I just got bent over in here–”

“They’ll know whether you wait a few minutes or not,” Quaritch says bluntly. “Besides, some of them probably need to learn by seeing.”

“Learn what–” You start to complain, before cutting yourself off.

You blink once, then twice, then turn your head to stare up at Quaritch. You only reach his navel, so you have to tilt your head right back.

“Oh my god,” You whisper, your tone nothing short of revelatory. “You want them to see me like this. You want Geiszler to see me like this.”

He just grunts as though he’s not listening, but you can see the way his ears are swivelled towards you. When you just keep staring up at him, unmoving, he clearly realises that you’re not going to let it go because he sighs through his nose and turns his amber eyes back on you.

“So?” He challenges, his eyebrows raising. “He tried to get you drunk and worm his head between your legs. If the little bastard needs to see you covered in my cum in order to back off, fine.”

“Oh my god,” You complain, but you’re flushed hot and embarrassed. “You’re disgusting.”

He just grunts, and makes no attempt to argue. In fact he seems to agree judging by the stupid smirk on his face.

“Come on,” He says simply, “After food, you can curl up in your bed and vegetate for as long as you like, how ‘bout that?”

You squint up at him. “With you?”

Quaritch rolls his eyes as though exasperated with your clinginess, but you’re not blind – you can see the way the tips of his pointed ears have flushed darker and feel the way his tail coils around your leg as he ushers you toward the door.

He bends over at the waist and drops a quick kiss on your forehead. It’s the gentlest thing he’s done all evening, and you’re left mollified and silent as he smooths back some of your hair that had been messed up during your activities.

“Yeah, kid,” He mutters, “With me, if you want.”

A stupid, dopey smile breaks out on your face, impossible to repress. 

“You’re so stupid.” You sigh, though your silly grin softens the sting of your words. “I just squirted all over your face — of course I wanna cuddle with you later.”

“Watch that mouth.” Quaritch warns, but his ears twitch and you can tell that he’s pleased.

You just giggle, still beaming as you finally allow him to herd you towards the door to the main lab.  Co-workers be damned, you think smugly as he punches the command to open the door. You haven't missed the way he's been sniffing at you; if Quaritch wants to walk you all around the base while you smell like each other, then that's what you'll do.