#recom reader

[shu-box-puns]

I never would have given you to them; not for anything

(Tsu’tey x Reader)

Part 1 -> Next Chapter 

If you prefer to read on Ao3, you can find the fic here!

Summary: The RDA unknowingly revives a traitor through Project Phoenix. 

Word Count: 11,251

Reader uses they/them pronouns.

NOTE: The term 'Zaza' is a gender neutral way to address a parental figure.

Connecting to the Tree of Souls was always bittersweet for Tsu'tey.

Eywa was a kind mother. For a few short moments, he could be reunited with everyone he had previously lost. He could ask Eytukan for guidance on being Olo’eyktan, or speak with Sylwanin when his grief threatened to overwhelm him.

And other times, Eywa would gift him a glimpse into a vision that could’ve been his reality, if events had played out differently. 

The phantom of HomeTree was booming with life. Those who lived there were distant and concealed from view by the colossal roots of the great tree or simply occupying the foliage beyond its shade. Tsu’tey found himself sitting upon a log, his knife in hand which he was using to shape an arrow head.

A fire roared at his feet, meat cooking over the flames whilst the joyous yells of children darted to and fro behind his turned back. He couldn’t help but smile softly to himself, reminded of the early years in Spider’s development when the boy had finally grown large enough to comfortably fit into an exo pack. Tsu’tey had been delighted, eager to take his son from the confines of the demon compound and let him loose on the clan.

Spider took to the outside like an ikran to the sky. Staring in wonder as Tsu’tey carried him into the heart of the village. Na’vi of all stations had cooed at him, offering Tsu’tey honest congratulations even if their eyes had held poorly concealed hesitance at the toddler giggling against his chest. 

Within the hour, Spider had become fast friends with Jake’s children - Eywa help him - and was gleefully dirtying his loincloth as they tumbled and played. 

“He has grown significantly.” A voice to his left suddenly commented, ripping Tsu’tey from his private musings. He made to turn to whoever was sat with him, but some untold force kept his gaze glued to the arrowhead he was carving. 

“Children tend to.” Tsu’tey responded easily, the English falling thick and accented off of his tongue. 

His secret companion merely hummed, leaning into his side. Tsu’tey caught sight of blue skin in his peripheral. Five fingered hands falling to demon style clothed knees. His expression tightened. Confusion swirling beneath his skin.

“A mighty warrior in the making.” The stranger praised, undercurrents of pride lacing their tone. “I am glad his aim has greatly improved.”

Tsu’tey lifted his gaze from the arrowhead as the words registered. His questioning response was halted by the sudden absence of the clan chatter and the crackling of the flames at his feet. His eyes flickered, expressing softening as he realised the scenery had changed.

Now, he and his companion sat on a tree branch overlooking the Omaticaya flight range. Targets lined the far perimeter, whilst na’vi of all ages stood in uniformed rows at increasing distances from the targets, their bows drawn. Tsu’tey’s gaze immediately zeroed in on Spider.

Here he was about twelve, Neteyam alongside him as the two practised in companionable silence. Despite being a full year younger, Neteyam easily towered over the older boy, his frame lean and long, whilst Spider had grown strong and thick in the shoulders. His son held his bow with ease, the strain long having lessened with hours of practice.

The presence at his side had shrunk somehow. The warmth no longer reached his shoulder. A soft brush of skin to his lower bicep indicating that the na’vi who had sat with him had shrunk to a more human stature.

Tsu’tey could not place who this was. They did not sound like Grace Augustine who possessed both avatar and human forms on the off chance she visited him in the tree. Nor had he befriended any of the scientists who possessed avatar bodies.

A celebratory whoop drew his attention back to Spider, who was receiving awed high fives from Neteyam. Glancing to the target, Tsu’tey swelled with pride at the three perfect bullseyes. 

He blinked, and he was in the old shack. Although in his present the stolen compound was overrun with wildlife and had fallen into disrepair, here, it looked well preserved. As fresh and disorganised as it had been the night the humans left for good. 

It looked homely. 

Lived in. 

He was sitting on a bunk much too small for his large frame with a baby carrier strapped across his chest. His son was nowhere to be seen in this particular vision, but as always, he felt no sense of panic within Eywa’s care. He simply observed the small room around him, noting that the presence at his side had disappeared with the flight range.

The messy sheets he sat on told of a good night’s rest. The military boots neatly lined up by the door and the camouflage jacket hanging on the back of it, reassuring him that whoever he was visiting was close by. 

Tucked under the window, the desk was a mess of coffee stained reports and various pens. Even from the other side of the room, he could make out the shakily written na’vi phrases repeated over several pages. He’d never seen his language written out before, since his people had no use for it, but somehow he instinctively knew the phrases.

Oel ngati kameie.

I see you.

Three words his mate had been practising behind his back. A secret he was very much aware of, but content to allow them to figure out. 

The sound of the door opening drew his attention from the desk, and he found said mate looming in the doorway, their son cradled to their chest. They looked exhausted but proud of themselves. Spider was sound asleep, nestled into their tanktop, with one chubby fist clenched tightly around the courting necklace Tsu’tey had presented them with several moons ago. 

“I finally got him to drop off.” His mate sighed happily as they stepped further into the room and quietly pulled the door closed behind them.

Tsu’tey could only hum. Greedily drinking in the sight of his mate and son. Gazing at the face that had been snatched from his too early, and the youth and innocence of Spider. He was sixteen now, years past infancy, but still Tsu’tey’s little boy. Whilst his mate was frozen in time. Forever held by Eywa.

“You good big guy?” The use of that ridiculous nickname snapped him back to the present. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

His lips stretched into a tight smile. The irony. 

“I am fine.” He insisted. His english heavily accented and rusty from disuse. Since Spider had become fully fluent in na’vi, he hardly ever had to use the demon tongue. But somehow, Eywa always switched them back to that language, despite having learnt plenty of na’vi through him.

Their proud grin dropped a fraction, their eyebrows drawing together. “Are you lying to me?”

He scoffed. “Olo’eyktan’s do not lie.” He said simply.

“You aren’t Olo’eyktan here.” They argued. Approaching him on quiet feet. 

Feeling called out, Tsu’tey had to work hard to keep his ears from flicking back in guilt. Instead, he chose not to respond as his mate stepped into his space. Their scent wafted over him as they expertly manoeuvred the slumbering infant into the net tied across Tsu’tey’s chest. The motion was practised; familiar in a way his mate hadn’t had time to master.

Spider went easily. Instinctively curling into his father’s warmth and finding something new to latch onto. This time, Tsu’tey was not fast enough to keep his son from grabbing onto one of his braids. Even in sleep, Spider yanked hard on the braided lock of hair, making Tsu’tey wince. His mate chuckled softly, reaching up to carefully untangle Spider’s fist, to which the infant immediately curled his fingers around their index instead. 

The scene was domestic. Something he had mourned when his mate had passed.

“You look tired.” His mate stated, those eyes studying his expression. 

Tsu’tey could only nod. What use was lying to a memory anyway?

“I am.”

“You should rest.” 

They titled their head, and Tsu’tey knew this was a battle he had no hope of winning. “Spider is waiting for you.” They said.

Carefully, they raised their free hand to hold his cheek, their expression worried. He leaned into the touch, savouring the warmth of their tiny hand against his cool skin.

His words were slow to come back to him. But they waited patiently, idly tracing the stars of his freckles as he gathered himself, his breathing uneven. “No. I want to stay here, with you.” 

There was a power behind their words now. A greater knowledge they should not be privy to. Tsu’tey knew this wasn’t his mate speaking to him anymore. Despite looking and sounding like his human, this was Eywa gently nudging him. Reminding him that he had responsibilities to attend to and a son waiting beyond her realm.

He followed his mate’s nod towards the window where he found a sixteen year old Spider standing patiently at the treeline, looking longingly towards the compound. He knew without looking down that the infant was gone from the sling at his chest. His son wore his exopack and was wringing his hands, head darting too and fro in search of someone. Rocking on the balls of his feet as often did when unsettled.

Tearing his gaze from his son, Tsu’tey found and held eye contact with the Great Mother disguised as his lost mate. “Will you allow him to visit today?” He asked.

“He will See soon.” Eywa replied in their voice, untold power building behind every word. 

His mate’s hands were small but strong as they took him by the wrists and helped him rise from his seat on the bed. “He is waiting.” They informed him, gently guiding him away from the desk littered in papers and towards the closed door. Tsu’tey’s heart ached at the familiar gesture. This part was always the hardest.

“He misses them.” He told Eywa and she could only nod in acknowledgement. “He watches their video logs.” He insisted, stomach sinking at the thought of his mate not knowing how badly Spider loved and missed them. That they might believe they had faded from the child’s memory, when in truth they’d always played such a crucial role. “He asks about them, always. Demanding memories, facts. Anything.”

“He will See soon.” Eywa repeated, and Tsu’tey knew she understood. 

They squeezed his hand and he realised he was standing before the door with the boots neatly lined up beside it. He glanced at them one last time, absorbing all their little details and committing them to memory. His mate smiled at him one last time, before they dropped his hands and stepped back. 

“I know.”

“You will See soon.” Eywa assured him, but Tsu’tey was no Tsahik and did not understand how to interpret the phrase. So he simply nodded.

>_<

They said no more as he raised his hand to push the door open, and in kind, Tsu’tey could only nod as his words got lost in his throat. Instead of responding, he turned and stepped out of the bedroom into the hall. 

The sounds of the forest came back to him slowly. He felt the change of the humidity as Eywa gently returned him to his body. He sat crossed legged under the glowing vines of the Tree of Souls, his heartbeat still pounding in time to the gentle pulses of the ancient tree. Animals moved in the bushes behind him, uncaring of his presence and content to go about their evening. 

He felt the familiar dry, flaky sensation of mourning paint running from the top of his brow down the line of his nose to his chin. His bullet scars felt stiff against his skin with every deep breath. Whilst a body leant into his side. Small and warm in a way that na’vi were not. 

Slowly, Tsu’tey peeled his eyelids open and glanced down to find Spider curled into him. His exopack was digging uncomfortably into Tsu’tey’s ribs, but he didn’t care. Now sixteen, his boy leaned into his side and had dragged Tsu’tey’s arm out of his lap to rest across his back. Keeping him safe and secure whilst his father communed with the ancestors. 

His tail swayed happily at the adorable sight. 

Sensing a shift in him, Spider groggily raised his head from Tsu’tey’s rib cage. His eyes were unfocused as he lifted his heavy head, only to find Tsu’tey already looking at him. He blinked slowly, drawing in a deep breath as he stretched and sat up. 

<”Who was it today?”> Spider asked in fluent na’vi, his tone heavy with sleep. 

Tsu’tey felt the corner of his mouth stretch upwards into an adoring smile. His boy was so precious. <”Zaza.”> He replied simply, to which Spider returned his smile. 

<”It is late.”> Spider agreed, to which Tsu’tey playfully ruffled his braids, ears pricked at the boy’s mischievous grin. Carefully, Tsu’tey reached up and disconnected his kuru from the tree, sending a prayer of thanks to Eywa for her gift.

<”And where did you end up going?”>

<”The old shack.”> Tsu’tey replied simply, reaching up to disconnect his tswin from the Tree of Souls. <”They were trying to convince you to go to bed.”>

<”We should return to the village.”> 

<”Only if you carry me.”> Spider stated, lifting his arms expectantly to Tsu’tey who rolled his eyes.

<”You have been hanging around Lo’ak too much. So whiny.”>

<”You are old enough to carry yourself.”>

<”But it’s late!”> Spider retaliated. 

<”Don’t let him hear you say that or he’ll become ten times worse.”> Considering the boy was Jake’s son, Tsu’tey didn’t doubt it. 

>_<

The last thing you remembered was lying down in a link unit. 

The smell of silicone had been poisonously strong in the tight space as one of the scientists closed the lid on you with a firm click. Your heart had been pounding, your plan to escape and meet up with Jake plaguing your mind. Distracting you from the half assed explanation of why Selfridge had ordered all military personnel into the link rooms.

You weren’t sure if you made it out of Hell’s Gate that night, let alone if Trudy had managed to drive you to the secret compound. If you’d been caught, or if your squad had noticed your absence. 

Not that any of it mattered now, considering you were in outer space and the Battle for The Tree of Souls had ended fifteen years prior. 

Now, you stared blankly at the pre-recorded video of yourself in that same laboratory. In the video, you were decked out in your usual, military attire and were horribly explaining what was going on. Floating in zero gravity, your hand - now blue and much, MUCH bigger than you were used to - kept you in place before the monitor with an unnervingly tight grip.

The you of the past wasn’t focused on their task. You could tell from the shift of their eyes as marines moved around them behind the camera. In a similar situation, your nerves were also all over the place. Your eyes were constantly darting around the small bunk room as your tail thrashed. So many enemies in such a small place.

It had been a fucking shock to wake up disoriented on a small hospital bed with a heart monitor beeping away in the background. Only for a massive, blue forehead to dart into your line of sight, dragging with it, a pair of large, unblinking eyes. You screamed, flailing weakly at the enormous bald head of Lyle Wainfleet.

You recalled blinding rage in your most recent memory of this man.

He had grinned at you, yelling loudly, “morning Private!” 

You had punched him, that past anger carrying over as you shoved him away with an additional well placed kick to the stomach and a ferocious hiss. Movement in the corner of your vision kept you from following him down, intending to choke the life out of his stupid, grinning face.

Alexander had been quick to grip your bicep, holding on tightly. He was smiling at you. And it was fucking disorientating to see his face on a na’vi body, his eyes too far apart and his nose flatter than you were used to. It stunned you into stillness.

On the floor, Lyle had chuckled good naturedly and complimented you on your improved strength. 

You hadn’t responded, your eyes widening as you took in your reflection in the one way window. It was you, but it also wasn’t you staring back. 

On the monitor, the human version of you scratched the back of their neck, clearly reading off of a script to the side of the camera, blurting some bullshit about the RDA storing your memories and implanting them in an avatar embryo. Your expression remained neutral as you glanced down to past-you’s throat. 

Mostly hidden beneath the hem of their camouflage shirt, you caught sight of a pretty little choker, the polished beads catching the laboratory lights. It was simple in design, layered three times tall with long, brown beads as the centrepiece, framed either side by carefully selected circular red beads.

Subconsciously, your blue hand reached to your own throat, frowning at the naked skin only for your fingers to catch on the metal chain of your dog tag. It sent a stab of phantom pain through your chest, which you were quick to rub away.

You remembered who had given it to you. What he had been to you. But you didn’t know how it had ended. If the RDA had resurrected you for this stupid little project, then chances were, the human version of you was dead. 

You had no idea who had died during the Battle of The Tree of Souls - clearly a lot of you judging by the number of recoms the RDA had paid for. There was no solid knowledge on how far the RDA had won, or how much of Pandora they had destroyed. For all you knew, everyone could be dead. The Omaticaya clan wiped off the face of the planet. 

The windows of your little bunk room overlooked the vast embryo tanks of the recoms. As you half-listened to the video, you watched a trio of three scientists carefully extracting the body, of who you recognised to be the na’vi version of Mansk, from the closest tank. They took great care in cleaning the embryonic fluid from his airways before flying the body out of sight through an open door. 

/Remember Private,/ the video stated, drawing your attention back once more, /the mission is not over./ There was something unreadable in human you’s eyes, their rage momentarily broadcasted across the screen. /Fight hard. Make me proud./ 

They couldn’t see you, but you found yourself nodding anyway. 

Those words gave you a direction. Past you didn’t believe the fight was over, so you just had to pick up where you left off. And to do that, you needed to get back into the forest.

>_<

The RDA had made special uniforms for all the recoms and required you to be dressed and ready to move into the base upon landing. Their first mistake was willingly handling you a gun. Evidently, they had never recognised you as a traitor. You’d died with them still believing you were loyal. Now, you would exploit that weakness.

For now, you decided to play nice until they willingly unleashed you into the forest. You made jokes with Lyle, established yourself as one of the team. Laughing with the other recoms about escaping death, making wild accusations about what you’d do the next time you saw that traitor; Jake Sully. 

It was easy. As it always had been. 

As if nothing had changed. Like you were back in school and you’d all come back from the summer having had growth spurts and been up to god knows what.

As a squad, you fitted together effortlessly. Falling into a routine of sleeping in the dorms, getting up early for drills and training, only to spend the evenings goofing around. The recom bodies were years younger, practically brand new, so the energy required for such shenanigans was effortless. 

Within a week, it felt like nothing had changed. The squad was blissfully unaware of what you had done in your past life behind their backs. To them, you were still their comrade. 

Initially, you’d attempted to keep your distance.

The forest called to you. It’s pull even stronger now with the additional na’vi instincts, and the small hallways of Bridgehead that were clearly not built with you in mind. You felt out of place in its tiny, box-like layout. 

Your comrades weren’t too sneaky in trying to ease your nerves and welcome you into their chaotic escapades. 

Lyle had always been an overbearing extrovert, chomping at the bit to challenge you into pushing yourself harder and harder during drills. 

Mansk, in his own quiet way, insisted on dragging you to the kitchen every mealtime to assist him with cooking. He stated that he had no idea what to do with the new Pandoran ingredients required for their recom bodies, but you could tell he was bullshitting you to keep you out of your head. It worked; mostly. 

Whilst Z-Dog had taken it upon herself to make sure your shooting skills were up to scratch - they were. And had sparked many competitions out in the shooting range.

Even the colonel seemed to have caught on. And that man was in no form of the imagination a family man. He was a leader. Your boss. The man you had to impress or risk getting killed. But recently, he’s been acting like some weird version of a father figure. Offering silent nods and backhanded compliments in his usual condescending tone whilst observing your training with your comrades. It would always be paired with a playful smack to the shoulder or a rough ruffle of your hair whilst the squad sniggered.

It was easy to remember why you’d stuck with them for so long. Because despite their missions and the people they killed, they had been your family on Pandora since you’d woken up from cryo sleep. A reluctant one. A ragtag bunch of trigger happy idiots, but they’d always watched out for you.

You also knew that they would kill you if they ever found out about your little personal mission. They made you feel safe within Bridgehead, but you knew they would turn on you instantly. 

Lyle wouldn’t hesitate to cuff you and drag you to the colonel. Whilst Quaritch would go real quiet, ordering you to hand over your gun which he would use to shoot you on the spot. Z-Dog would make it look like an accident, whilst Mansk would hide behind his sunglasses and deal with business himself, stealing your dog tags to take back to the colonel.

It was imperative you remained vigilant. If anyone remembered or found out, you were fucked. So you had to get out. Fast. At the first opportunity. You could figure it out from there.

>_<

The moment the samson chopper landed in the undergrowth of the rainforest, you leapt out. Lyle was hot on your tail, peeling away from your side to secure the perimeter as the helicopter finished landing. 

You didn’t bother pretending to be scoping the landscape. 

The hum of the forest had grown steadily stronger throughout the trip, and now it slid through you like a melody. Calling to you more strongly than you’d ever felt. You took in greedy lungfuls of the damp, humid forest air. The scents of dew and vegetation invaded your nose, a world away from the canned air the recoms were forced to breathe in Bridgehead. Your ears swivelled towards every little sound, tail swaying to show content despite the mission ahead. Pandora was as gorgeous as she had ever been. The dappled sunlight peeking through the trees as the exotic fragrance of the plants filled the air. 

As a human, it had never been this pretty. Behind an exo pack, you had never been able to smell the world, whilst the sights had been smudged by the acrylic screen. 

This was freeing on an entirely new level.

Someone smacked you upside the head, abruptly shattering the nostalgia of finally returning to the forest. You choked, spinning in place and immediately stood to attention under the Colonel’s unimpressed glare. “What are you playing at Private?” He barked.

You could see the rest of the squad pretending not to look your way. Z-Dog and Walker had promptly turned their backs, clinging to each other as if it was the funniest thing in existence. 

“Apologies sir, I got excited.” You replied sheepishly. "Needed to stretch my legs."

“Focus!” Quaritch stressed with an eye roll. 

“Yes, sir.”

He nodded once before motioning to the others and leading the way into the undergrowth. 

You fell into line, gun aimed on your surroundings as the squad moved further and further away from base. 

Within the hour, the squad stumbled upon a broken AMP suit collapsed in front of an abandoned compound. The building looked like one of the remote link compounds the scientists used to use during avatar exertions. What it was doing so far away from its assigned location, you had no idea.

Quaritch immediately issued orders for the site to be secured. Whilst Z-Dog investigated the building, the rest of the squad fanned out into the clearing. Half went to search the undergrowth, whilst you remained nearby, eyes more focused on the compound than the forest.

The colonel and Wainfleet remained close to the AMP suit, quietly analysing the corpse impaled within the ribcage of the dismantled robot. 

You swept close on your return pass, ears pricked as Quaritch glared daggers at the skull. Peering over his shoulder, your eyes widened at the pair of na'vi arrows jutting out of moss covered bone and the scar of a viperwolf scratch carved into the skull.

Quaritch's corpse.

And whoever had got him had been merciless in finishing him off.

The sight made you uneasy. Reminding you of the threats Pandora possessed. You were glad when a shout from the forest and the call for backup drew you from the suit.

No one knew how long the kids had been there. Whether they’d gotten curious and followed from the moment the samson touched down, or if they had been lingering around the shack. Either way, the petrified scream of the youngest girl had drawn the rest of your squad to the scene. 

There were three na’vi kids in total, and one human child. All held hostage by a recom, whilst Quaritch interrogated each of them. You watched the scene from the sidelines, assuming Quaritch would decide they weren’t worth it and let them go. 

But when the na’vi boy swore at him and Quaritch grinned with a simple, ”you’re his.”

Jake’s, you realised. 

Your heart began to pound as you rounded the rear of the group, eyes narrowed as you took in the side profile of the boy. His too small eyes, the slope of his jaw, the fifth finger on each hand. At a glance, a full blooded na’vi. But you’d been around avatars long enough to pick out the little imperfections. The broader set to his shoulders, the lower position of his kuru that indicated human blood somewhere in the line. 

Quaritch was precise in his motions. Taking the kid’s kuru in hand to begin interrogating him. The colonel was rough with him. Spitting sharp commands before yanking his knife from his thigh strap. The boy’s eyes widened a fraction. You saw the raw fear swimming within them as he stared blankly up at the snarling colonel. Refusing to back down. Refusing to waver. 

Quaritch’s expression tightened as he raised the knife a fraction. Logically, you knew the first strike would be a fake, to scare the boy into spilling information with minimal effort. You were lurching forward half a step, ears fanning wide in alarm before you could stop yourself. 

The motion of that knife froze mid air, a testament to the Colonel’s reflexes as his burning eyes flickered to you. You made an effort to smooth out your microexpressions, hands limp at your side instead of reaching for a weapon like you so desperately wanted to. Something in the kid’s face had made something tight and protective flare up between your ribs, and the Colonel had noticed. 

Quaritch’s gaze was stern as shook his head in disappointment. “Don’t go getting soft on me, Private.” He reminded, grasp shifting on the kid’s kuru. “I know you had a soft spot for them back in the day, but none of that bullshit now.”

“Sorry sir.” You grit out, but didn’t retreat. He glared at you, you maintained steady eye contact until Wainfleet pulled Quaritch’s attention to the older na’vi girl. He had her fingers splayed for the colonel to see, chuckling at her five fingers. 

Their conversation quickly dissolved into the back of your mind as Quaritch handed the na’vi boy off, putting blessed distance between the kid and his knife. 

Tracking the Colonel’s movements as he approached the older girl, you found your attention drawn by the human boy. You blinked at his intense gaze, at the storm of unexplainable emotions swimming behind his eyes that you felt dizzy just looking at him. Despite his face being locked away behind an exopack, his gaze was no less piercing. He seemed to see you. 

The squint of his eyebrows seemed to suggest he saw you. Not a soldier. Not a recom. Just you. As if he could see beneath the scientifically created body to the memory chip beneath, to what remained of your soul.

But that was probably just you projecting.

To distract yourself from the tightening of your chest, you also studied him as your comrades kept interrogating the children. Their voices grew distant as you inspected the blue stripes painted across tanned skin. The traditional Omaticayan weaving style of his armband as well as the songcord attached to the hem of his loincloth. 

Your eyes caught on the necklace at his throat. A style that matched the one your human body wore in the video. Down to the brown and red beads. The familiar weaving style. Even at this distance, you recognised Tsu’tey’s handiwork. 

And whilst it reassured and relieved you that he was still alive, that somehow, in some way, this child had a piece of him, you were confused. How had he gotten his hands on one of Tsu’tey’s pieces?

Then he steeled himself. Quaritch’s bulk warmed your back, his shadow falling over your left arm. In a shockingly gentle tone, Quaritch asked for the boy’s name, and surprisingly, he gave it.

”Spider Socorro.” He blurted in strained english. 

Your ear flickered back at the colonel’s sharp inhale. “Miles?” 

Spider straightened, chin lifted in defiance. “Nobody calls me that.”

Quaritch’s expression was unreadable. He didn’t bother to respond and stepped away to talk into his neck piece. He didn’t go far and simply turned his back, speaking to Ardmore as the squad shifted uneasily. 

The kids hissed as the recoms began moving them towards the compound where the shuttle would more easily be able to let down the ropes. Your stomach tightened at the thought of dragging them back with you. To know how they felt and be unable to offer sympathy.

Quaritch motioned to the children. ”Keep hold of ‘em. Shuttle will be here in ten.”

Your stomach dropped. Not the shuttle. Not yet. You couldn’t stomach the idea of going back to Bridgehead after this. After such a short taste of freedom. 

”Colonel.” You said loudly, making the man pause midstep. He levelled you with an unreadable look as you struggled to find your voice. “These kids are useless to us.”

As soon as the words left your lips, his expression visibly shut off and you knew you would not be able to get through to him. “I’m not gonna repeat myself, Private.” He snapped, pulling rank to put you in your place. You squared up to him. Chin lifted.

A distant bird call had your ears pricking. It was short. A burst of a sound. It had the kids straightening, all their ears fanning towards the sound. 

The bird called again. That one note echoing through the trees.

Shifting uneasily, your eyes followed the direction it had come from, momentarily breaking eye contact. Quaritch smirked as if he’d won a great battle. “Take the na’vi boy.” He ordered, motioning to the kid who was promptly handed over, and then raised his voice to the squad. “Into defensive positions!”

The group fell into formation as the sun began its nightly cycle behind the moon, bringing with it a rain storm. The boy’s neural whip between your fingers quickly grew saturated, making your weak grip slip with every sharp movement he would make. That bird call did not grow distant or stop. In fact, you could’ve sworn it was getting closer.

There was a moment of stillness. The forest holding its breath as the recoms kept whispering to each other, kept moving noisily through the undergrowth. Blind to the silent warning. 

You held your breath, going unnaturally still as the boy in front of you did the same.

There was a cut off shout. An explosion of movement near the main body of the group.

Keeping your position, your head snapped towards the sound. Mouth going dry at the na’vi arrow protruding from Fike’s skull. It had embedded itself into his eye socket, almost straight through.

Whatever was making that sound had clearly found the squad. And it wasn’t pleased.

As the group erupted into chaos, you saw your chance. Loosening your grip on the kid’s kuru, you slowly stepped back, praying the steady movements would not draw that hunter’s eye to your form. The kid spun to face you, wrists bound, looking wide eyed and terrified. 

You raised your hands in surrender, head dipping. <”Get out of here.”> You hissed, nodding to the trees. 

His ears fanned wide as a satellite. Momentarily frozen in time. Eyes studying your own for the trick.

A gun went off at his back, snapping him out of it. More arrows were fired and more recoms died. 

He turned his back to you, and with a burst of speed began shepherding his little sister towards the treeline. The girl went easily, grabbing at his bound wrists and dragging him away. 

You kept your attention on their backs, hand hanging close to your gun in case someone turned their attention on you. 

The recoms were dying in disorganised clusters. The smart ones like Wainfleet and Z-Dog had already taken cover behind trees as the onslaught of arrows threw everyone else out of formation, causing them to scramble for cover. It gave you a sick sense of satisfaction. 

A shout drew your attention. 

Walker had the older girl by her kuru after she’d tried to make a break for it with Spider. She struggled as she yanked her back, her gun useless in her focus on keeping hold of her. 

Your gaze narrowed. Your rifle was in your hands before you could think to check if anyone was looking. The trigger was smooth under your finger. And with a light squeeze the machine roared to life and shot a hole through the tree to her left. 

Walker shrieked, hand spasming in fear as she instinctively let go of the girl’s neural whip. Spider was quick to grab her arm and run away, whilst an arrow found its mark in the recom’s chest. She collapsed in a heap. Dead on impact.

You grimaced. 

The rain muffled your footsteps as you carefully retreated into the shadows of the trees. Thankfully, the squad was too preoccupied to notice your silent escape. 

You felt like a traitor for withdrawing into the forest quietly. Which was funny considering that’s what you were. Your ears were pricked and your body low. Eywa must have wanted you to succeed because no arrow pierced your back. 

The screaming from the small clearing had begun to die down now, but was quickly replaced by the sound of a machine gun going off. Definitely Mansk’s hand, he had always been quick to react in any situation. You quickened your pace, knowing the distance those things could reach. 

The aim was to get as much distance between you and the squad as possible. Then, you’d tear off any and all equipment that would hinder your survival out in the forest until you stumbled across a clan and could ask for uturu. The word and its meaning came to you from a distant memory. A simpler time when Grace had been ranting about some new discovery she’d observed out in the field whilst you’d simply been trying to microwave your dinner. 

One of the explosions went off a little too close to you. Making your pace falter as your head snapped up to watch the branches above burst into flames. You squinted as a figure got thrown clean off by the blast. They seemed to collide with every branch and bush in existence on the way down, screaming the whole way.

<”SPIDER!”> Yelled the older girl from before, appearing over the lip of the branch but not daring to jump after him.

Instinctively, you leapt forward, gun falling back on its strap as your arms came up to catch the falling kid. He crashed into your embrace with a punched out wheeze. Blood oozed from many cuts, whilst his back was warm to the touch, not burnt, but still caught by the flames. 

Another explosion went off, spurring you back into motion. You tried to set the kid down, but he groaned painfully, clutching at your bullet proof vest as his legs failed to hold his weight. 

“Shit.” You cursed under your breath. Glancing back to the branch, you realised the girl was still there. Still watching your every move. And still way too close to Quaritch and his squad. To the inbound airship. 

Shifting the kid so he was supported by one of your arms against your body, you strained to relieve your feet of the heavy duty avatar boots. The laces were slippery from the rain, slithering out of your grasp and making you growl lowly to yourself. It felt like hours, but it could’ve only been seconds before you were barefoot, your shoes and socks discarded in the undergrowth. 

”Hold on tight!” You instructed the kid, who dutifully wound his shaking legs around your ribcage and hooked his arms around your neck. You supported his back with one arm whilst you scrambled to begin climbing back up the hill he’d just tumbled down.

The soil was loose from the rain. The bushes offering no firm support due to your weight, their roots easily giving way if you dared hold onto them for support. 

You hadn’t climbed anything in this body yet. With the base possessing stairs, and your memories of climbing trees locked away in a past life, there was no real need to. And yet, it came easily to this body. As if it had been born to scale the trees of the Pandoran rainforest despite being grown by aliens in a test tube. 

The girl was quick to grab the back of your bullet proof vest once you were high enough. Heaving you up onto the branch with her whole body thrown back. Curling your toes into the uneven bark, you swayed in place, tail compensating for your shit balance. ”We need to move.” You insisted, once again readjusting your grip on the shivering child in your arms.

She nodded dutifully. ”This way.” You kept a hand on her bicep to steady her as she took off down the branch, leading you away from the gunfire. 

With practised ease, she reached the end of the branch and smoothly dropped to the forest floor before scrambling away. You were slower in following, your body protesting the intense movements before your knees groaned at the sloppy landing. To his credit, Spider didn’t complain as the jerky ride, his eyes half closed behind his mask. 

You pushed through the bushes to find the three na’vi kids waiting by some ikran. Eying the beasts wearily, you slowed your pace, listening to the older girl reassure her siblings with soft words at your approach.

You needed to be quick. The owner of those arrows would be returning for their kids soon. And whether or not it was Jake, they’re bound to kill you on sight without checking your face.

”He’s wounded. You must get him to the Tsahik quickly.” You explained as you approached, dropping into a crouch to set Spider down gently at the kids’ feet. He protested again, putting up a valiant fight to keep a hold of you, but you were stronger than him. Your touch was firm as you removed his limbs from you and sat him down.

Kiri was quick to drop to his level, frowning hard at his bloodied appearance. Feeling sorry for the wounded kid, you dared to take a couple of extra seconds pulling out a knife from your belt to cut him free.

He pouted as he rubbed the circulation back into his wrists. Those piercing eyes darting all over your face.

You turned to leave, but the youngest kid was quick to waddle up to your side, her bound wrists extended. ”Can you cut me loose too?”

”I /really/ need to go.” You reply softly, before cutting her loose anyway.

You shifted back, only for the older pair to immediately extend their arms expectantly. You audibly groaned, before reaching for the boy since he was closest. 

”Zaza?” Spider croaked, making your brows furrowed at the odd word. Around you, the older kids had gone unnaturally still. <”Is that you?”>

”Zaza?” You repeated, finding the word felt odd on your tongue. It sparked a distant memory, of a late night sprawled on a bunk with someone beside you. Someone tall and distracted. The memory brought with it a sense of dread; a distant threat. You discarded that train of thought before it could distract you for too long.

<”It can’t be.”> The na’vi girl commented, and now it was her turn to begin studying you. 

”I don’t know what that means.” You pleaded, hands frozen in time, the knife still poised. A headache was beginning to form between your eyes, and your stress levels were incredibly high, but no one was giving you a straight answer. All you knew for certain was that you didn’t recognise this boy, and yet, he looked at you as if he knew you. 

<”Holy shit.”> Was all Spider replied with, slumping against the forest floor. 

<”No way.”> The na’vi boy agreed with a laugh. He was grinning hard, ears perked. 

His younger sister looked as confused as you felt. Whilst the older girl was inspecting you in a way similar to how Grace used to look at something that deeply fascinated her.

Out of nowhere a large, calloused hand wrapped around your shoulder, yanking you back and away from the kids. The hand moved with the momentum, throwing you off balance to land hard on your back. You gasped loudly, your knife flying away into the bushes. The kids were already yelling as you struggled to gather your bearings.

The barrel of an old model RDA rifle came into focus, inches from your face, making you gulp loudly. Following the line of the weapon, your gaze travelled up a blue arm to a scowling face that you hadn’t seen in decades.

<”JAKE DON’T!”> Spider yelled. Despite the frantic edge in his voice, he remained unmoving. His eyes as large as the moon as he stared unblinkingly up at the na’vi’s turned back. 

<”DAD! NO!”> The oldest girl shrieked, clumsily shoving her bound hands into the na’vi’s stomach, her eyes wide and pleading. 

The boy was quick to jump to your defence. <”They helped us escape Dad- SIR! Don’t!”> 

<”DADDY!”> The youngest shrieked, joining in at her older siblings’ reactions. She promptly latched herself onto his leg, clingy tightly and making his strong stance waver. If you weren’t seconds from dying - again - it would’ve been a comically domestic scene. 

You shifted your gaze back to the man in question. Jake looked different. He was older now. Tired. Blue. Very fucking blue. His expression was aged, his hair in dreadlocks. You barely recognised him. 

Movement over his shoulder brought your gaze to yet another kid. Older than the others, he shared the same hard expression as his father, an arrow notched and reading in his bow. Clearly, there was no chance of escape. If Jake missed you by some miracle, that boy would finish the job for him. 

Jake hadn’t lowered his gun. He was still studying you, blatantly ignoring his kids as his narrowed eyes swept over the planes of your face. The weight of the stare was heavy as his frown deepened. 

Somehow, you managed to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, terrified but fucking estatic that he was alive. ”Long time no see, marine.”

No reaction. The gun didn’t lower. His expression didn’t change. Remaining cold and closed off. 

Your smile faltered as you realise he probably didn’t recognise you. You expected the gun to be shoved back against you, for a bullet to shoot through your body and for you to die again. 

Nothing happened. 

Then something seems to click. ”Impossible.” Is all Jake said, and he lowered his weapon. The kids collectively breathed out and moved out of his way. 

His brow was furrowed now as he dropped into a crouch. Jake loomed over you, his shadow blocking out the moon as his arm shot forward to grab at the front of your bullet proof vest to yank it down. You jerked, instinctively growling at him as his large hand grabbed your dog tag chain and pulled it out of hiding. The chain pulled taught as he dragged you in by the neck, in turn, Jake stooped lower, eyes squinting to read the printed metal in the pathetic light of the forest. 

He sucked in a breath. <”What kind of sick-”> He cut himself off with a swear, dropping the tag like it had burned him. His eyes shone with a dense swirl of emotion when he caught your gaze again, his voice punching out of him in a yell. ”You should be dead!”

Your expression furrowed. ”Sorry to disappoint?”

He cursed again. <”Kids, get to the ikran. Your mother should be waiting for you.”> None of them moved. Jake growled. <”Did you hear?”>

You could make a break for it right now. Roll onto your stomach and dart off into the forest whilst he was preoccupied. The boy with the bow had loosened his arrow when Jake had dropped the gun from your face. But there was no guarantee he wouldn’t put a bullet between your shoulders for your hard work. 

In another life, you had been friends; comrades. But now, he was a stranger. And you were decked out in enemy gear. 

The heat of the jungle was getting to you now. Causing sweat to bead on your brow and moisture to collect under the heavy, bullet proof vest clutching tight to every movement of your torso. The military grade trousers clung uncomfortably to your legs, your boots long gone but your feet weak and vulnerable against the rough terrain of the jungle floor. 

In contrast, Jake was in his element. Adorned in traditional Omaticayan attire and walking around barefoot without an issue. 

<i>Private!</i> Quaritch’s calm voice over the com sent chills down your spine, making you stiffen. <i>Private! Do you read me?</i>

You dared not respond. Jake was still studying you. Those unnatural glowing eyes pinning you in place.

<i>Y/n! Dude, you alive!</i> Lyle’s loud voice had you wincing. Jake’s head snapped down at the sound, ears fanning wide as Lyle kept trying to coax you into responding. Making your insides twist tighter and tighter. 

You’d been hoping for a clean break that would spare your conscience. They weren’t supposed to have noticed your absence yet. 

Fuck, Quaritch was gonna kill you for getting cornered by Jake. That is if Jake didn’t kill you first.

You were so caught up in your musing that you didn’t notice the man in question had moved, until a hand clamped hard around your queue, snapping your head back from the harsh yank. The sound you let out could never have been produced by a human. It echoed through the trees, making your ears flatten.

Jake paid you no mind as he harshly dragged you to your feet. 

”Jake!” Spider yelled at him, eyes hardened. 

The marine waved him off as you struggled to comply, your balance all thrown off and mud clinging to your ass and back. His movements were sharp, making you gasp. In one swift motion, he dug his finger under your earpiece and tossed it away into the undergrowth. 

”Jesus, you’ve gotten cranky in your old age.” You complained, struggling to relieve the pressure on your kuru.

Jake let out a surprised burst of air that could’ve been a laugh. ”Glad to see whatever they’ve done to you hasn’t dimmed your humour, Private.”

”Fuck off with that military shit.”

He kicked at your calf, tripping you into walking faster. Snapping your teeth at him, you followed the sound of the kids retreating into the undergrowth. Jake’s grip was painful on your kuru, but he was no longer using it to guide you along like a misbehaving horse, so you would take it.

”You started it.” He blurted in that typical knee jerk reaction of his. You huffed at the familiarity of it. ”Now start walking.”

”You’re not seriously considering taking me with you? Are you?” He didn’t respond and you let out a bark of laughter. ”You’re being an idiot.”

“I’m sparing your life.” Jake replied sharply. ”Usually, people are grateful.”

You saw the ikran first. They weren’t as big as you remembered, but still scared the shit out of you. 

<”Ma Jake, what are you doing? Kill-”> Neytiri hissed from beside her mount. The youngest girl cradled to her chest. The woman stepped away from her ikran’s side, bow slung over her shoulder and her expression thunderous.

Jake pulled you up short, startling a second shout of pain from you. ”Dude! Ease up. Come on!”

Neytiri suddenly appearing in front of you had you stiffening. Her gaze pierced through you, studying your face with a hunter’s precision. She recognised you much faster than her mate.

“Would you quit whining?”

”You’re being an asshole!” 

You could only watch dumbly as her eyes widened, mouth dropping open whilst her ears fanned wide as the membrane of a frilled lizard. The hand not cradling her daughter flew to her mouth as that expression morphed into one of fiery rage. 

”What did they /DO/ to you?” She shrieked, the sheer grief in her tone making you flinch. Her breath stuttered, glancing at Jake before finding your pained expression again. “Eywa took you home.” She sounded like she was trying to convince herself of that fact. 

The kids shuffled on your peripheral. Unsettled by their mother’s blatant grief. Neytiri drew your attention back.

”How is it that you stand before me now?!”

Her cry echoes through the trees, bouncing back to your bent ears with the same gut wrenching emotion as they had had leaving her mouth. You stared blankly at your friend, feeling all sense of hope and joy at being found drain away.

She was looking at you like you were a ghost or some kind of illusion. Waiting for you to evaporate or cease to exist at any moment. 

Your presence had unknowingly opened an old, festering wound that had barely healed the first time.

This wasn’t the reunion you’d been expecting. This wasn’t the open arms and tears you’d been praying for whilst you planned your escape. This was everything you didn’t want. 

“I’m sorry..”

>_<

Jake’s grip was unforgiving as he hauled you off of his ikran at High Camp. Your arms strained against the vines they’d used to bind your wrists, fingers failing to keep you on your feet as he forcefully yanked you down off of his ikran and onto the uneven cliff edge. One hand still grasped your kuru, whilst the other bit imprints into your bicep. 

They’d stripped you of your gear before wrestling you onto a banshee.

Now, your weapons, bullet proof vest and any form of communication with the RDA lay soaked in rainwater somewhere in the forest. You didn’t mourn the loss of the devices, since the RDA could no longer track you without them. But you did miss the false protection of the knife and the warmth of the vest against the frigid mountain air.

Goosebumps erupted up your forearms as you were dragged further into the heart of the camp. Tents had been erected inside the cave system, made homely by the cooking fires within and the decorative rugs lining the cold, stone floors.

You glimpsed a compound on one of the rocky rises. The shining metal stood out like a sore thumb against the wooden structures of the tents and the warm glow of the fires.

Jake kept you walking, guiding you through the gathering throng of clan members. Some you recognised, many you didn’t. They all stared at you the same. With pinned back ears and judgemental eyes. 

It was a relief when you were shoved between the flaps of the largest tent so far. The atmosphere was tense inside, with a fire burning low in the centre and various belongings stacked up against the walls. Herbs dried where they hung from the ceiling, whilst a hammock hung suspended against the back wall where two figures crouched over a map.

Your heart leapt into your throat. The rest of the clan and Jake’s unforgiving grip on you fell away as your eyes widened. 

The years had been kind to Mo’at. She still wore her red beaded shawl, but had updated her headpiece and decorative necklaces, one of which appeared to have been made by a child. Her intelligent eyes snapped towards you in the small space, the weight of the years portrayed in the heavy crow’s feet and bags pulling at her cheeks. That expression did not change as she studied you. 

Tsu’tey shifted at her elbow, looking as handsome as he always had. White paint ran down the line of his nose, from forehead to chin, standing out brightly against the soft blue of his skin. He carried himself with an undeniable sense of authority, chin lifted as that razor sharp glare cut you down to your very core. He no longer wore the necklace that had matched the choker your human body wore, but the rest of him had not changed. He studied you wordlessly, his lips dragged down into a frown as if he’d already analysed all he needed to know. 

Your eyes caught on the bullet scars that adorned his left shoulder. They were old, faded with time but obvious. Your stomach tensed at the thought of what he had been through in your absence. 

Wordlessly, you watched as Spider - who had slipped in behind you - skirted the fire and walked straight for Tsu’tey. “Dad.” The boy breathed, barely loud enough for you to hear. The hunter immediately opened his arms for the boy to fall into, his tail swaying anxiously as he whispered inaudibly to the young boy. Spider finally lost the tension in his body, whilst your stomach clenched painfully. You hated to imagine what their closeness meant. 

Neytiri burst into the tent behind you, making your ears shoot up and your body jerk. She paid you no mind, kicking at the back of your knee to force you to kneel. You gasped as Jake’s grip left you and Neytiri took his place. Her nails digging crescent moons into your scalp as she grasped the back of your neck with unforgiving tightness.

<”Daughter, what brings you here with such rage in your eye?”> Mo’at asked carefully. Her familiar voice sounded so calm, so familiar. You squeezed your eyes shut at the sudden weight behind them. 

<”The Sky People have found a new low.”> Neytiri declared loudly to the silent tent. Mo’at hummed. 

Somewhere behind the canvas of the tent wall, you heard small feet shift. Glancing to the side, you saw a tiny eye peering up at you from the gap between the material and the floor. Those unnaturally large eyes bore into your soul, making your tail thrash with nerves.

Neytiri’s fingers turned into claws in your hair, snapping your attention back to the situation at hand as she grasped a fistful of hair and yanked. <”They have begun to resurrect the dead.”> Your head snapped up from the motion, causing your neck to crack and warm pain to deep down your spine. Your mouth opened wide with an involuntary, pained gasp.

Mo’at didn’t move. 

Tsu’tey was scowling hard at her side, Spider wincing in sympathy at your treatment. Two sides of one coin. An odd pairing in appearance, but even in the short time you’d seen them together, you knew there was a bond there. Probably years old.  

With the crack in her daughter’s voice, Mo’at rose from her seat. On silent footsteps, she rounded the fire. ”What are you called?” 

You could tell that who you were still hadn’t clicked into place for Tsu’tey from the way that his ears flickered in uncertainty. Still looking confused, he composed himself, sitting back on his hunches to look at Neytiri. <”What is the meaning of this? Why have you brought this puppet to High Camp.”>

<”It protected the children.”> Neytiri returned easily. Making it sound like you were a pissed off thanator that had by some miracle, spared her offspring. <”It recognised us.”>

”Neytiri-”

<”You do NOT speak here.”>

Your name sat frozen on your tongue. The reactions of your previous two friends made you not want to reveal yourself. Neytiri shook you painfully by the kuru, letting out a warning hiss.

You spoke your name, eternally grateful that Mo’at’s towering form blocked Tsu’tey from view. 

More humming from Mo’at as she reached for the tiny blade concealed within the sheath of her head dress. You eyed her wearily, held still by Neytiri’s hand in your hair as she pricked your shoulder. She pulled the bloodied blade back, tasting the drop of blood. 

Her ears pricked at the taste, staring at you with a newfound revelation. ”It is you.” She confirmed, and something seemed to unwind in both Jake and Neytiri. ”But altered. You are not as the Great Mother intended.”

She motioned to her daughter, expression pinched. Neytiri tried to protest, but at her mother’s stern glare, her hands retreated from you. Your posture immediately slumped, relieved tingles echoing across your scalp and down your back.

”Explain.” Mo’at boomed, commanding your attention once more.

That finally got a reaction from the hunter still crouching over the map. 

”The Sky People grew this body as they grew the avatars.” She nodded along to the simple explanation, sharing glances with Tsu’tey over her shoulder. You swallowed. ”They uploaded my memories into it. This body is me.”

Jake sidestepped, putting himself back into your line of sight. ”So you aren’t linked up?” There was something unreadable in his eyes. You almost mistook it for hope.

You shook your head. That body was long gone. ”This is my body now.”

Spider had sat down on the mat beside him by now, and shifted uncertainly as the man wordlessly rose from his couch with the authority of a king rising from his throne. Mo’at stepped aside as he took slow, menacing steps towards you. Swallowing hard, you dared to meet his burning gaze highlighted by the soft white paint. The vibrant grief and rage swirling within those gorgeous depths was startling to behold.  

His hand went to the knife at his waist, wrestling it free with the practised song of the blade against its bone sheath. Your fight or flight threatened to kick in as you recognised the same hunter’s stalk he had performed the morning Neytiri and Jake had officially mated. 

<”Olo’eyktan?”> Mo’at asked, eying him wearily. 

He ignored her, storming past her fast enough to have her braids dancing. That gaze was narrowed; honed in on prey. 

His arm drew back. 

Your eyes widened. 

With a yell, he took a swift swipe at your head which you barely managed to dive out of the way of.

<”DAD NO!”> Spider yelled from across the tent. He was on his feet in minutes, scrambling forward, only for Mo’at to hold him back with her arm.

Neytiri tutted at the poorly aimed blow, her tail thrashing on your peripheral as you cowered in the dirt, your arms still bound and braced against stone. Vulnerable skin tore on uneven rock as you scrambled away, kicking yourself for turning your back, but knowing distance was more important.

At least Jake seemed to have your back.

<”Tsu’tey, what are you doing?”> The marine asked, immediately jumping in to stop him from striking again as you scrambled to get your feet under you. With your hands bound, it was a struggle. Your tail thrashed, attempting to aid your balance as you scrambled away.

Tsu’tey was like a man possessed, shoving Jake off balance and making another stab at you. His ears were flat on either side of his head, eyes wild and manic. You’d never seen him so pissed. And certainly not so quiet whilst being so angry. It was somehow more terrifying than if he were screaming at you. 

Jake scrambled to stay on his feet, his arms wrapping around Tsu’tey’s waist and yanking him back. Causing the knife to fall short of slicing through your side. The Olo’eyktan shrieked, a noise you had never heard a na’vi make before as his nails clawed at the man’s arms, failing to tear him off. Your ears flattened at the heart wrenching sound. Eyes not quite leaving the knife still in the Olo’eyktan’s grasp. A knife which he was quick to recall and hurl at your head. 

“Jesus FUCKING christ!” You swore, ducking again. “Calm down!”

He hissed in retaliation, ears pinned back from the ferocity of the sound. You stilled at the glint of water staining his cheeks, the redness of his eyes. ”I mourned you!” He cursed. Still struggling. Still trying to close the distance and kill you. 

Scratch that last part. Seeing him cry and begin to break down was far worse than anger.

”I buried you.” He screamed, the shout echoing around the tent and no doubt chasing itself out into the main cavern. ”I visited you in Eywa!”

Numbly, you took a step back. Towards the tent flaps. 

This had been a mistake. Coming here was a mistake.

”I have made my peace with your passing! What purpose do you serve? Why have you returned to haunt me?” There was so much anguish in his tone, you would’ve preferred a punch to the jaw. ”WHY!?”

”I couldn’t stay there.” You breathed, straightening your shoulders when you realised you’d curled in on yourself under that venomous glare. ”I couldn’t stay there!” You repeated, louder this time. Needing to be heard. Understood. ”With them.” Your throat was uncomfortably tight. ”I wanted to come home.”

”THIS IS NOT YOUR HOME, DEMON!” Tsu’tey was quick to snap back. His expression shattered, the rage giving way to a tsunami of grief so strong it made you sick. ”LEAVE!”

But you were frozen in place.

Tsu’tey took it as a challenge. With strength that made your eyes bug out, he stomped on Jake’s foot, shot his arms back, grabbed the marine by the weapons belt and yanked him up and over his shoulder. Jake hit the stone floor hard. With a wheeze, he collapsed in a heap, momentarily stunned. 

You gawked. 

Spider seemed to come back to himself. In your peripheral, you watched the kid expertly duck under Mo’at’s arm and dart around the fire, with the ease of someone who’d been doing it his entire life.

Tsu’tey’s form blocked him from view. His muscles were bunched like a thanator preparing to pounce. 

”GET. OUT!” Tsu’tey screamed again. He made to step over Jake, only for the man to grab his ankle and yank, causing the hunter to crash at your feet. You leapt back as his hands shot for your ankles. 

Spider was at your side in moments. ”This way!” He yelled, grabbing at your bound wrists and dragging you towards the tent flaps. You obeyed, but your eyes remained glued to Tsu’tey. To the hands that would drag you down and gladly wring your neck. To the twisted expression on his face, so alien to you and causing the white paint to bunch and flake. 

Mo’at tutted at his back. <”You do not think clearly.”> She narrated, stalking around the fist fight now commencing on her tent floor. 

”Come on!” Spider urged, tugging sharply on your wrists and tearing your attention from Tsu’tey and the rest of them. ”We have to get you out of here.”

<”Give me a head start?”> Spider joked with a hoarse laugh, the furious screams of Tsu’tey biting at your ankles. 

Neytiri appeared at your side, yanking aside the tent flap and helping Spider shove you outside. <”Take the ikran.”> She urged the boy, her expression icy. <”They cannot remain here.”>

You had FUCKING GATHERED THAT MUCH!

Neytiri nodded sharply before barking out loudly, <”Neteyam!”> 

A flurry of movement by the side of the tent revealed the older son from before. His expression was painfully neutral as his gaze slid from his mother to the teenager holding you hostage by your bound wrists. 

<”Take the demon to the forest.”> Neytiri stated. She didn’t wait to see if he acknowledged her command before promptly ducking back into the tent. The flicker of a memory tickled the back of your mind at her sharp cursing as the ruckus within the tent continued.

The boy, Neteyam, barely spared you a glance before heading back the way you’d been dragged into the camp. Despite being dragged all the way here for the Olo’eyktan to pass his judgement, the Sully family were doing a spontaneous job of doing the opposite of his will. You had no doubt that Tsu’tey would have gutted you regardless of his knee-jerk reaction. 

You were lost in your musings as Neteyam hollered for his ikran, three bursts of sound that had the magnificent beast dropping from a higher level of the cave system to stand before its rider. The boy was quick to form Tsaheylu, before fluidly mounting up.

<”Where are we headed?”>

<”The old village.”> Spider replied simply, guiding you towards the back of the mount with firm pushes. 

Part 1 -> Next Chapter 

[fl3shm4id3n]

Hi there! I have a very silly thought that I wanna share with you. Just imagine if Miles had a teen daughter that fought in the war and died with him and now him and her are recomes. Just imagine in the scene were Miles gets his own ikran and names it cupcake imagine recome y/n trying to get an ikran but instead of the ikran trying to kill her it just gets close to her and wants to be her friend, and what does Y/n name it? Deathlord. Get it? Miles with an aggressive ikran that will kill anything in front of it called cupcake and Y/n with an ikran that's too scared to hurt a bug named deathlord.

ᵣᵤₙₜ ₒf ₜₕₑ ₗᵢₜₜₑᵣ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬.

ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ x ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ)

Tw: Descriptions of death (being attacked by Viperwoolf), Ikran taming.

A/N: In all honesty, I always like the stuff you come up with and I enjoy writing them.♡

Masterlist

You dad would often tall you 'The Runt' of the team, due to being much smaller soldier, and because how much more sympathetic you were towards everyone around you. He didn't really like the fact that you, his daughter was very soft. He thought that others might take advantage of your kindness. He wanted you to have tough skin. Don't get him wrong, he loves you and all, but you're in a whole different planet where kindness isn't really necessary.

15 years later, you woke up in your new body. You had died in battle, this was now your new body. But it felt different too. As a way to get used to your new reality. You were made to watch a video about your death, you watched how the Viperwolves attacked and ate at your still living body. Your old screams made a shiver run down your spine, this was like watching a very fucked up horror movie.

Then your dad woke up, in a panic, Attacking everyone that got near him. After that little tumble, your dad was fine and recognized what was happening. He was very happy to see you. He would have done anything to bring you back to life as well. It was strange since you and him looked like the enemy, but he didn't care, he was glad that his daughter was with him.

Weeks later, came Spider. Who turns out to be your half brother. As much as your dad didn't want to get attached to him, he did. He already basically had taken him in as his own. Despite Spider's situation, he was going to be treated with the same respect because of your dad's orders. All he had to do was just go along with the plan and nobody gets hurts. You had already started bonding with your brother. It was nice being around with anther kid your age, technically you'd be older, but you and him were the same age.

Due to Spider's knowledge in na'vi, the Deja blu team had decided to learn a bit of their ways. Besides the language, they wanted to learn how to bond with the creatures. So Spider took the group to the mountains to claim an Ikran. You had to get rid of your shoes and cut your pants into shorts, so that your feet could have a better grip. At the top, you saw the many ikran flying around, they were almost like dragons, interesting. Your dad decided to go first just for safety. He thought about doing it the easy way, but after he learned that Jake did it the hard way, so will he.

You watched as your dad basically began to fight the creature. It was kind of funny to see, punching the Ikran. Then he mounted the beast and tried to get it to calm down, but that only made things worse. After Spider forgot to tell him an important detail, the Ikran took your dad with him down the water fall. You ran over to see if you could spot him along with Spider. Their was no sight of him, until you saw him properly flying with her creature, in victory. Now It was your turn to get yours.

At first you were nervous, what if you fell and died? Or what if an Ikran doesn't want you? The more you thought of it, you didn't seen the Ikran that was approaching you. It was a bit smaller than the other, and it had a color scheme of purple and pink. With a hot pink chin and bright lilac eyes. Why wasn't it attacking you? You only watched as the ikran got closer, sniffing your hand. Then it rubbed her head onto your hand, as if it wanted pets. So you gave her a small pet, followed by a little scratch behind what you assumed would its ear. You then saw how she brought their bonding antenna towards you. Then you brought your queue and attached into the antenna.

You felt the bond for sure. You could basically feel her heart beat, the movements of her wings and her eyes. That's when you learned that she was a girl. You mounted into her back, positioning yourself properly, then she took off down the water fall. It was scary at first, but you got the hang of it. You thought about her name as you were in the sky. Not something like Cupcake, Pancake or Something like that. You then came up with the name 'Deathlord.' That sounded cool.

Your dad teased you a bit for calling your ikran that. He commented that she looks like she'd never hurt a fly, or that she'd hide behind you in a dangerous situation, not only that but he had brought up how small she was. Saying she must be the runt of the litter, like you. But his was a bit dumber, who'd name a killer machine like his Ikran 'Cupcake'?

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

Curves

Femrecom!reader x Miles

Summary: Curvy Reader comes back as a Recom and isn't pleased with their new body. Someone's gonna have to remind her she's perfect either way!

Warnings! body image issues, mentions of dieting and ED, smut, no protection, penetration, oral female receiving, use of Mama and Papa pet names

It took you years to accept the body you saw in the mirror. The dips and curves, the wobbling, the bumpy cellulite, the stretch marks. The way uniforms clung and sagged in all the wrong places. Long years of fad diet after fad diet with nothing but hair thinning and acne to show for it. You'd even spent some unfortunate years taking matters to an extreme, counting bellow 1000 and throat raw. You were lucky your teeth and guts stayed mostly intact. You'd cringe at the memories now. How you could've been so cruel to the body that carried you here, the body that kissed your love.

Colonel Miles Quaritch was not a mushy man. Grumbling in his sleep as you pecked his other cheek to wake him. You showered, lathering yourself in the nice soaps he'd bought in special for you. Caressing each curve you'd grown to love. Admiring the litter of love bites across hips, chest and even a couple on your stomach. Heat pooled even thinking about him between your legs again.

You did your hair and makeup allowing your body to dry as you stood in front of the mirror. You'd covered the hickies before but Miles had seemed disappointed when he'd seen you later without them. Today you decided to leave them bare, teasing Lyle be damned. You pulled lacy underwear on, everything you owned seemed so beautiful these days. Bless your over generous lover, though his motives might not be so pure.

He was sitting up now, rubbing his face to try return to the living. You smiled, pulling your tights up. A wolf whistle distracted you. He smirked at you through the mirror, clearly admiring your bent form.

"Shh! We'll be late if you start with that again!" You laughed flushing, remembering morning quickies that never seemed to be that quick.

"And we'll be forgivin'. 's my operation we're runnin'. Plus the lab coats ain't got nothing better to be doing anyway. Let them wait!" He got up stalking behind you and wrapping arms around your middle. He hummed, dipping his face in to kiss at your shoulders.

You twisted in his arms, leaning up to cup his face and kiss him fully. Sinking into him as his hands dug into your hips. Perfect.

Then you woke up.

The lights were blinding, a hum of sound around you as your head pounded. A hangover? You'd not been that drunk since the Christmas party. How'd you end up here? Had something happened? Were you injured? There were doctors now, swaying in and out of view as their distant voices came into focus.

"You hear us Y/N." Snapping fingers at your ears as they shone a torch past your eyes, you squinted cringing away from the too bright light and loud sound.

"Move it!" You heard your lovers voice. The face that appeared wasn't his though.

A na'vi! In the base? You shrieked, scrambling back and kicking out at them. There was sounds of protest as more circled, you grabbed an IV poll and swung it in front of you. Jabbing at whomever tried to come closer.

"Y/n, please, look at me." The first male spoke in Miles voice. The dawning realization creeping up. If you looked closely his features were there, pulled out across a more na'vi nose and very blue. Younger too, without the wear of his years and scars of battles past. Worse however was the creeping feeling that they all looked too short. Your eyes flashed down to the poll in your own blue hands.

You screamed again, dropping the poll with a clatter. Miles was close now, cupping your cheeks in his hands as you shook.

"S'okay peach. We're okay, just a lil bigger and bluer is all." Your breathing slowed, keeping your eyes locked on his now bright olive eyes. His hands slipped to your elbows as he helped you stand.

Looking around you saw familiar faces. Prager, Mansk, Zdog, even Lyle. All gently smiling, giving you a little wave as you continued hyperventilating. The group you'd gone with to get your mind copied with. Shock rippled back through you again, gripping Miles forearm.

"We died!" Your voice was shrill, edged with a panic that wouldn't stay down. To this he actually laughed, holding your cheek and stroking a thumb across it.

"Suppose we did a little."

It was then you felt the swishing of a tail, you spun to try get a look of it. Lyle barked a laughed at this, though his mouth clamped shut when Miles shot him a glare. You ceased chasing your tail, feeling incredibly off all over. Your skin seemed uncomfortable somehow, in a way you couldn't pin point. Like being far to aware of it and how it stretched over your bones.

You'd avoided it somehow until now. The full length mirror that covered the entire wall infront of the stretchers. Some subconscious part of you knowing that this would snap your mind and it did. Your own features morphed across what felt like an entirely new face. It was more than that, your body long and lithe. It was too much your brain felt like it would burst, the room spun and Miles' voice eched distantly as your vision darkened.

You woke alone this time. The room so like the one you'd shared with Miles but not. The mess of your previous life was gone. The room was practically sterile. You shifted out of the sheets, staring down at the thin sticks of your legs. That was unfair, they were fine really. Toned muscular, long, you could even say shapely but they weren't yours.

Almost afraid you stood, the mirror was in the same place as it always had been. It was slightly too small now, only reaching your neck. It was all you could bare at the moment anyway, your face could be a problem for another time.

You lifted your hospital gown over your head. You squeaked, clenching your jaw to stay quiet. The other body continued much the same as the legs. Delicate long fingers, toned arms, a collar bone that jutted out and your breast could barely be cupped. You stared at the stomach you'd have killed for when you were younger but you couldn't help but feel wrong.

"These are still familiar." You spun, not noticing when Miles had returned. He turned you back from him to the mirror, hands tracing up the stripes of blue on your thighs and lower stomach. You cringed away from his touch.

He pulled his hands back, hovering near you but waiting for permission.

"I'm sorry it's not you, I just... this isn't me...I don't like it." You turned back to him, reaching up to his face. His head tipped into your palm, kissing it before turning eyes to yours.

"hmm, well I certainly loved you before" You stilled at his comment, stomach churning at his past tense. "I'd like to love you now," He took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles. "If you'd let me sugar." He smirked, fangs flashing.

The heat pooled same as ever with him. Despite his own changes you still felt drawn in by him. His charm was unchanged, his strong arms were dotted with the same tattoos. You ran you hand along them, wishing some part of you still felt the same.

He leaned down to kiss you, feeling his lips form and shape around your own. Even in whole new bodies they still locked together, maybe you'd always been made for one another. You needed to feel him, only him to leave yourself for a while. You dipped your tongue through meeting his. He groaned, tugging you closer, his large hands engulfing your hips. You cringed a little again, as he grabbed at the skin. It was short lived, even without the cushion he pawed and groaned against you like always.

He dove to your neck now, nipping and sucking, as hands wandering up and down your sides.

"Oh I need you Mama, I wanna make you feel real good." He cupped your cheeks, his large hands covering your cheeks. His eyes now blown, black with lust. You imagined you must look the same by this point, barely able to do more than nod.

"Please" You whispered. That was all he needed, scooping you up and taking long strides to the bed. He always manhandled you. You'd been embarrassed at first worried that he'd strain or be unable to lift you, past lovers had failed before. He'd been so strong though, his thick arms holding you up making your heart flutter.

It was no different now, he was on top caging you in with swelling biceps. Kissing down your chest, hands running up to squeeze and knead your breast. Your head lulled back, fingers finding his hair and combing nails through it. You avoided his queue at first but as his first nips on your hip began you couldn't help but grip it a little. He growled against you but only furthered his attack on you, pulling your thigh up to kiss down.

"These won't do." He tore off the simple underwear that'd been provided in disdain. "Papa'll make sure, only the best for his mama." The idea of some poor designer having to make some na'vi sized lingerie made you blush. He dove back down swiping a long line up from your core to your clint. You moaned out fingers lost in his hair again. For a moment you missed feeling the ridges of his scar but then he had your clint in between his teeth. He rolled it so gently before tonguing it. You felt his familiar technique spelling his name out against your sex as you squirmed under him, gasping and clawing at his back.

His finger joined him, dipping into your core and curling up. You clenched around him as he thrusted, the tight knot in your stomach growing. You felt your own pleasure rising as he didn't let up.

"Miles I'm gonna...." You babbled out, feeling lightheaded the cord snapped. Your orgasm washing over you in waves as he kept going.

He pulled up when your moans subsided, chin glistening. You looked down, you were soaked, far more than you'd ever been before.

"Did I?" Miles just grinned at you, leaning in to capture your lips before pulling back. Was this a na'vi thing? Or did you just squirt for the first time?

"Hmm guess who's not a virgin anymore." He smirked. You scoffed, nudging his shoulder.

"Hmm not you?" His eyes widened a little at your implication. Technically speaking he was one again and he'd just taken yours.

"Aww Papa" you cooed, watching his eyes blacken again as you held his chin. "Mama can fix that." You kissed him again, tasting yourself on his tongue.

You pushed up, sitting in front of him, hands on his jaw as you continued to taste him. There was more strength in you now, your new body felt like it could go all night. You wondered if you could push him down.

The though too tantalising you gave it a go. Hands shifting down to shove his shoulder blades. Through strength or surprise he toppled back. Seizing the moment and rush of power you straddled him, smirking down as you teased his underwear down. He stayed down, allowing you to grip his cock at the base, you pumped bringing his erection to hover over your core.

His hands came to your hips again, pulling you down so his head brushed against your heat. He hissed as you took his length, inch by inch.

"So tight peach." You slid him in with ease, your slick guiding him up to his hilt. Then you rose, his breath catching and stuttering. He pulled you back down and you began to ride him, small mounds bouncing with the rhythm. His hand reached for one again, palming and massaging the tender tissue.

His other hand traced around behind you pulling you close as he sat up. You road on, feeling your own high coming up again. His mouth dipped to catch your nipple, rolling a tongue around the peak and nipping the skin with fanged teeth.

He was groaning more, hips bucking against yours as your own pace became sloppy. His hand darted low circling your clit as you felt him getting close.

"Cum on me again sweetheart" His rough voice was in your ear, nipping the skin bellow it. You did, harder than before. The same dizzying high coursing through you as your walls shuddered against him. Milking his own orgasm out he growled against your neck, a mix of your own slick and his cum leaking out around his dick.

He lazily kissed your throat, following up your chin to your lips. You feel together onto your sides, still locked together. You couldn't tell where you started and he ended, all you could feel was the bliss of being.

[plzfeedmebread]

To Ask So Casually - Miles Quaritch x Female! Reader

word count: 1284

Pairing: Recom! Na'vi Colonel Miles Quaritch x Female! Recom! Na'vi Reader Tags/Warnings: R18 - minors DNI!, fluff, smut, mutual lewd touching, bonding, pure filth little plot

Author's Notes: Based on the prompt - "how would the recoms react to their fem recom s/o wanting them to ✨️casually✨️ rub their clit that leads to maybe some mutual touching/masturbation 👀"

*by clicking read more you understand the contents herein are for adults only*

“Can you come over here and rub my clit while I read?”

The question comes off so casually, he has to do a double take.

You’re on the bed, dressed only in a singlet and underwear, propped up on the pillows as you continue reading the book in hand, eyes never leaving the pages.

Miles had just emerged from the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel around the waist. He had been rummaging through his clothes for a top to wear when you had posed the question so nonchalantly.

“You wanna run that by me again?” He asks with an eyebrow raise and a smirk, arms crossed. His tail flicks up at the prospect of excitement.

“You heard me.” He admires your ability to be so straight faced, but the slight twitch to your mouth does not go unnoticed, nor the flick of your tail too.

“Just wanna make sure I heard ya right is all.”

You lift your eyes up to meet his head on, half lidded and beckoning. You teasingly lick the tip of your finger to turn a page, eye-contact unbreaking.

“Well? I’m waiting…”

His smirk widens as he leisurely makes his way to his side of the bed.

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”

You feel the dip in the bed as he slots himself into your side, trapping your left arm between you two. He nestles his head into your neck as he looks at the book held in your right hand.

“Whatcha readin’?”

“A romance novel. It’s getting rather steamy.” You turn the book toward him slightly.

“That right? Why don’t you read it out loud for me.”

“Alright…”

Miles places a hand to your chest, resting over a mound. The warmth of his palm seeps through the thinness of your top. You lick your lips.

“His touch burnt her in a way most delicious. Hands dragged along the smoothness of her skin. He pinched and squeezed, pulling moans from her depths…”

Quaritch hums into your ear, his hand gripping your breast as he massages the supple flesh. He drags a finger slowly to trace your areola in a lazy circle. You inhale sharply when he switches to his thumb, slowly rubbing over your nipple till it poked through the fabric.

“H-he held her firmly in each hand, massaging her to attention; deft long fingers pinching, sending flits of fire down her spine…”

Quaritch pulls, stretching the fabric down till it sat snug under your breast, exposing you to the chilled air. Wet warmth envelops your perked bud as he takes you into his mouth. You let out a muffled whine when he gives your nipple a hard suck, tongue lapping at you in-between each slurp.

His hand presses firmly into your flesh as he makes a slow trail down your abdomen toward the apex of your legs.

He pops you out of his mouth, pressing a wet kiss to the side of your exposed bosom.

“Go on sweetheart, I’m aaaaall ears…”

You try hard to concentrate on the words, but his mouth is once again on you, devouring your flesh with practiced ease, feeding the flame burning in your loins. You casually throw one leg over his, the other bent at the knee.

“His-his mouth left burning kisses down the plains of her flesh. Lower did he travel, su-sucking her skin harshly, leaving a trail of p-purple flo-flowers. Till f-finally, he came upon her--!”

His hand cups your sex, fingers pressing firmly to your folds. The suddenness interrupts your dictation, and you let out a content sigh turned moan. Slowly does he glide his fingers over your clothed heat, wetness slowly seeping through the mailable fabric.  

He moves to press his face into your neck, hot breath tickling your skin.

“Don’t get distracted now darlin’, it’s just getting good too.”

He scrapes his fangs along your skin, tracing the path with his tongue.

He slips his hand down the front of your panties, causing you to suck in a sudden breath.

And when his finger finally finds your aching clit, you hum with desire, biting your lip to stifle a moan. He spreads your wettened lips, using his middle finger to rub languid shapes upon your bud.

“F-fuck—Miles—!”

“Ssshhh baby. Continue readin’ for me.” He commands.

But you can’t. When you look upon the words, they seem hieroglyphic, illegible. You’re stuttering worsens as you desperately try to speak.

Your head falls back onto your pillow when you feel one finger press into you. Eyes screwed shut, your mouth falls open in ecstasy, pitch perfect moans spilling from your lips.

He gathers your slick on his finger, spreading it along your folds, it makes it easier to glide his finger over your throbbing clit.

You feel his hot throbbing cock press into your thigh as he starts slowly humping you; his towel having since fallen to the wayside.

“Hmmm—Miles!” You moan his name breathlessly, the heated coil tightening in your loins.

“Aww, you done reading for me?”

“Fuck the damn book.” You toss said book somewhere unseen, focusing attention instead on your burgeoning pleasure.

You feel Quaritch smirk against your skin. He gives you a soft bite, playfully nipping at your neck.

“You always did have such a way with words.”

Fed up with his teasing, you reach for him, grabbing his dick in your left hand. He growls from somewhere deep in the back of this throat. The sound excites you all the more.

You turn your head and catch his lips in a bruising kiss. Teeth and tongue, your kiss is a slobbered mess of unbridled passion.

You grab your queue with your free hand, moving it over your body. You break away from the kiss.

“Miles—”

“I got you.”

You whine when his hand leaves your needy heat, but bite your lip as you quiver with anticipation, watching him grab his own queue. You lick your lips as the purple tendrils entwine. Your pupils dilate as a new found, yet familiar euphoria engulfs you and him.

You return your hand to his cock, squeezing tight as you pump your hand along the length. He starts fucking into your hand, in time with your movements.

Encouraged by the sweet sound passionate mewls of fervour, his fingers quicken in their caressing upon your clit. He inserts two fingers into your pussy; your gummy walls sucking in the digits greedily. His thumb rubs your clit as his fingers massage the spongy flesh of your inner walls. His speed and swiftness, coupled with the delectable filth whispered into your ear pushes you off the proverbial cliff.

Your orgasm sets your body alight after such an appetizing build up. The hand on his cock squeezing that much tighter as you writhe in ecstasy.

“Fffuuuuckk yeeesss!” Quaritch moans as he fucks himself to completion, cumming against your thigh. You give him a few lazy pumps, smiling when you feel his body judder from over stimulation.

Once the pleasure subsides to a dull throb, you turn on your side, throwing an arm around Miles’ mid as you snuggle yourself flush against his front. You throw a leg over him for good measure. His arm goes around you, pulling you even closer, mindful of the bond.

He places a kiss to your temple, eliciting a small giggle from you.

It is then you feel his cock, once again hard and at attention, rubbing against you still sensitive folds.

You head snaps up to look at him, eyes widened.

He looks down at you, a sideways smirk on his lips.

“What, you didn’t think were done, did you?”

You lick your teeth, eyeing him back with heady need.

---

Tags: @mechformers @wwebaby657 @zomerlovesme @girlnred @raving-raven-writing @meeeeep5 @imavaduh @mxn14 @ashy-kit @manymaria111 @johoevi @iamwh0iam @jadesmyname @lvangel98 @watertastesnice1 @belos-simp69 @wren-solos @pandoragalora @strbyallycow @so-this-is-a-thing-noww @grimistangel @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @ducks118 @graysonmalik2550 @p9scal @ohshititsfenharel @ourmurdermessiah @cocoaflare @sarcasticrandy @liyahsocorro @olivia-the-weirdo

[go-river-flows]

The "Happy Ending" Treatment

Summary: This is based on a Character AI scenario I ran. I've been so obsessed with it lately and running so many prompts through it like a mad woman. This is the most recent one with a little suggestive language because the Character AI has an NSFW block.

There is no smut, but suggestive language. But still, it is an 18+ story. The first one that I've written.

Warning: 18+ only! Suggestive language

As a Recom, I can't help but witness how stressed the other Recoms are. Both before and after missions. A few times, I had given Mansk and Ja massages to help calm them, but when Z-Dog, Walker, Fike and Prager caught me giving Ja a massage, they began asking for them. I was more than happy to give them shoulder rubs and the occasional head and back rub, but I could tell that some tensions were rising as a result. And when I mean tension….I mean sexual tension. At first, it was coming from Z-dog and Ja. What was worse was that I had always found them attractive. Not to mention, Mansk, Walker and Fike too, heck, even Lyle Wainfleet. The only two avatars I haven't given massages to were Lyle and the Colonel, who I think needs it the most being the leader and the busiest. 

One evening after a particularly rough mission, I found Lyle sitting at the desk in the avatar only rec room. The other recoms were chilling inside when I entered. Lyle was reading some paperwork when I slowly approached him from behind. His bald head enticing me to play the bongos on it, I chuckled lightly at the sudden urge and caved pretty quickly. Lightly patting my fingers on his head. 

“What the…?” Lyle was startled by the light pats on his bald blue head. I giggled a little bit before scratching behind his ear. “Do you think I'm a dog or something?” I glanced up to find Ja enjoying the scene, though that didn't stop me as I just continued, Lyle’s ears flicking slightly, “I will put a stop to this nonsense. Get your hands off me.”

Okay, okay….I instead started rubbing my fingers on his head, massaging his bald blue scalp.

“This is your last warning, get off me!” Lyle growled. I retracted my hands, giving up. Sighing and slumping my shoulders, I walked over to Mansk who was sitting on the high chair watching the television, giving him a head rub. Mansk moans lightly from my touch, leaning into my hands. In the corner of my eye, I noticed Lyle had looked up from his paperwork and was watching me, with a slight blush whilst pretending to look angry. I moved my hands down Mansk’s neck to massage his shoulders, the avatar purring a little. In the corner of my eye I see Lyle with a slight jealous expression.

As I continue to massage Mansk with my strong hands, he starts falling asleep. When Mansk does fall asleep completely, I move onto Fike who was nearby and watching, waiting for his turn. Giving Sean (Fike) the same massage treatment, he lightly moans as the tension from the day released. Though again in the corner of my eye, I could see Lyle’s jealousy rising a little, a small pout on his face. I moved through the room, giving Prager a shoulder and upper back massage, then moving onto Walker whose problem areas were her arms and hands. Finally moving onto Z-Dog; I do her usual shoulder, neck and arm massage which left her a moaning mess after, as she flopped on the sofa. I try to avoid Lyle’s watchful eyes as he continues to pout. 

Finally stopping in front of Ja, I give him a neck and shoulder massage too as his hands find my hips, returning the favour. I watch Ja’s eyes shift to where Lyle was sitting as a smug smile curls onto Ja’s lips. From where I stood was a mirror nearby and I could see the reflection of Lyle who was silent with jealousy, whilst glaring at Ja hatefully. When I am done with massaging Ja’s shoulders, Ja spins me around and gives me one in return, which was a normal occurrence for us. But now, I could see the whole room as well as Lyle who was still pouting and silently seething. 

Not long after, Mansk rouses and wakes from his nap, taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Mansk calls me over. Ja releases me and I make my way over to Mansk, Lyle continuing to watch.

“Yes? Are you alright?” I speak quietly to Mansk. 

“Come’ere, let me return the favour,” Mansk whispers out to me, I was about to refuse but Mansk stands and sits me in the high chair he was just sat on, he took three steps behind me and began rubbing my shoulders, easing away the stress of rough mission.

“This alright?” Mansk’s gentle voice asks in my right ear.

“Mhmm…” is all I could say as my head lulls back a little as Mansk’s strong hands kneads my muscles. My eyelids droop a little, But in the corner of my eye I see Lyle gazing longingly, as his jealousy rises a little more.

Walker who was watching Lyle’s expression shoots Lyle a smirk, which catches Lyle’s attention who looked at Walker with a glare, releasing an angry huff. Mansk’s hands work up to my head, giving me a head rub that relaxes me fully, and before I know it I have fallen asleep.

“It's not fair that I get no attention while everyone else does. I'm an equal team member. I should be treated the same as everyone else. It is time to put this nonsense to an end!” Lyle finally speaks up. Ja is quick to shush Lyle.

“You had your turn, and you rejected her…”

Lyle glares at Ja with a mix of confusion and anger.

“When?!”

“Earlier! You were first!” Ja whisper-shouted to which Lyle blushed and became flustered, not knowing what to say.

“I- I… I'm not sure what to say…” Lyle’s eyes fell back to my sleeping form as Mansk was still giving a head rub. After Mansk had finished the head rub, he gently woke me. Not before whispering a soft “thank you”.

“That's it, I've had enough!” Lyle says loudly, pulling out his knife out of nowhere, “You’re all going down!” And with that, everyone is alert and stressed. Mansk stayed next to me as the Recoms in the room rushed Lyle, wrangling his knife away from Lyle. Though Lyle attempts to keep hold of his knife. 

“No! You can't have it!” he yelled, snatching his knife back and pointing it at everyone, “Who’s the boss now?!”

Z-Dog, Walker, Fike, Prager, Lopez, Fike and Warren release all their anger and frustration all at once.

“SERIOUSLY LYLE! WE WERE ALL CALM AND RELAXED AND NOW OUR STRESS IS BACK!!!”

“I- I WAS FEELING LEFT OUT! Everyone was having fun with their shoulder rubs and I got nothing! You can't blame me!” Lyle tries to justify his actions.

A mix of “You had your turn” and “You rejected her” were thrown around, as Mansk remained at my side rubbing my cheeks to wake me a little more. Lyle glares at everyone.

“Shut. Up.” He spoke through gritted teeth, he exhaled through his nose before he lowered his knife, pretending like nothing happened he plopped his butt back down in his seat. I had woken up a bit more and saw Lyle’s moping face before giving in. Standing up from the high chair, I walked over to the crowd of avatars, pushing through the crowd. I cocked my head, with an understanding look on my face I offered my hand to Lyle. He looked at it before he gently took it. 

“I- I'm sorry for my outburst… I let my emotions get the better of me,” Lyle spoke softly with a disappointed tone. I couldn't help but feel bad, since I was the one who started messing with him. Cautiously, I slid behind Lyle and began rubbing his shoulders, upper back, neck and head. I could feel Lyle stiffen a little having been caught off guard but quickly relaxed from the massage. I could hear him gently sigh  before speaking.

“This is nice. Who knew this would feel so nice?” the others rolled their eyes before returning to their seats grumbling about being stressed and tense again, quietly seething, “Thank you…” Lyle moaned. I worked on Lyle, finding a few problem areas and knots, releasing the tension from them. Lyle even leans into the massage, relaxing further and even enjoying it.

“You're a good masseuse, you know that?” Lyle rolls his head back smiling as he looks into my eyes. I gave a gentle smile before finishing up. Though my hands are a little sore from massaging the team’s shoulders, I was glad they were relaxed before Lyle ruined the peace.

I returned to Mansk again, giving him another shoulder rub, realising that his shoulders had once again tensed up from the stress he accumulated from Lyle’s outburst.

“You like being spoiled like this huh, Mansk?” Lyle spoke again dripping with jealousy, his eyes on the two of us as he watched. Mansk scoffed under his breath. After a few minutes I went to Prager, giving him the same massage treatment I gave Mansk. It was quiet until Lyle spoke again.

“Everyone gets their turn huh? I don't see me getting any attention?” Lyle sighed, “I guess I’ll have to wait…” I glance at Lyle who had seemingly forgotten his outburst form earlier, and he catches me looking to which he averts his eyes, crossing his arms. I sigh and return to Lyle, massaging his back.

Lyle seemed happy as he sighs and leans into the massage.

“This is nice. Why can't our days always be like this, everyone being nice and getting along?” I let out a bewildered chuckle as Lyle flops his head back again, looking up at me with an appreciative smile. It's not long again when I finish and move onto Ja. Massaging his shoulders and arms.

I can feel Lyle’s eyes on me before he broke the silence once again.

“I just had a great idea…what if we all got together and just had a massage circle, everyone massaging the person in front of them? That would be pretty fun.”

There's a throng of laughter before Fike piped up.

“Nah man! (Y/N) gives the best massages, I'm waiting for my turn with her…”

Lyle sighs, “Fine then, if you're all gonna be selfish.” He falls silent again, then speaks once again, “Well if that's the case, who wants a massage from me?” Lyle gives the crowd a smug smile. No one says anything and looks away, except for Warren who raises his hand to Lyle’s surprise.

“Well, it's your lucky day, come here!” Lyle gestures to Warren who apprehensively stands to approach Lyle for a massage. Lyle stands and gives a big smile, “How about a nice massage, big guy? You look like you need the attention…”Lyle gives Warren a quick wink, much to Warren’s disgust.

“Just the massage, thanks…” Warren looked at Lyle with a slight disgust.

As all this was happening, Ja rested his head on my shoulder as I massaged his shoulders from the front of him as his arms rested around my hips, essentially hugging me loosely, his hand caressing my hip just above my butt. I could hear his gentle moans as he gave light kisses on my shoulder. Slowly and gently peppering up to my neck as the few watching Avatars chuckled. Lyle, who doesn't seem to see what is happening was giving Warren a ‘nice relaxing shoulder rub’ finally looks up at us.

“Do you two always get this close with each other? Not that I'm complaining, you're a good looking couple,” Lyle says.

“No. No, we are not a couple. Why? You jealous?”Ja speaks with his lips hovering over my neck.

“A little…but who could blame me? You two are pretty close together there…maybe I could get the same treatment?” Lyle snarks to which Ja laughs. Ja’s full attention was now on Lyle.

“Oh! You want the happy ending treatment, eh?” Lyle blushed at this.

“Well, what's wrong about seeking the attention of a pretty girl?” Lyle gives Ja a playful wink.

“Oh Lyle wishes,” I finally speak up.

“So, what do you say? Think you could give me more of that happy ending treatment that you give to Ja?” Lyle giggles, “After all, I am a soldier who’s been workin’ hard all day,” at this, Warren began pulling away from Lyle’s grasp and making space between them with a mortified expression, “I think it wouldn’t be too much to ask for a nice massage from a pretty lady, would it?” he smiled playfully, all whilst trying to hide how anxious he actually feels.

Z-Dog chuckled at that, “Ooh! I want that too! Give me the happy ending treatment!!”

“I’d like that too,” Mansk chipped in.

“I guess the happy ending treatment is more popular than I realised…” Lyle said, before the barrage of “me too’s” started. “And who is gonna give all of us this happy treatment then, if all of us want it?”

Everyone fell silent as I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. After a moment of silence, Lyle speaks up again.

“It seems like this situation may have taken an unexpected turn…Is no one up to the task?”

Apparently this was a trigger as the group started arguing who gets the so-called “happy ending” with me, and I am instantly dragged into the argument, quite literally being yanked by multiple recoms at once.

“What have I started…?” Lyle stood by as he watched the chaos unfold, with a mixed display of amusement and concern.

Through the chaos, Mansk manages to grab me from Z-dogs grasp and carries me running for his own bedroom. Everyone hot on his tail, fumbling over each other as Walker trips on her own feet from being shoved by Lopez.

“What the hell just happened? We were all getting along just fine! How did you all change at the mention of ‘happy ending treatment’?” Lyle questioned whilst following behind the group, not wanting to join the dog fight. Ja charges towards Mansk’s door just as it was about to close, managing to grab the door and frame, holding it open as Mansk is trying desperately to close it. At that moment Lyle moves around the group to get to Ja, grabbing his arm.

“What the hell are you doing?! This is going way too far! Are you all just going to try and tear each other’s heads off just to get a happy ending?!” Lyle turns to everyone, speaking to the recoms, “All this fighting over a nice massage from a pretty lady? We’re better than this!”

“Do you even know what ‘happy ending’ means?” Ja growls at Lyle, to which Lyle blushes slightly, not expecting that question to be asked.

“Erm…yeah, who doesn’t know?” Lyle sighs, “Yes. I know what it means.”

“It means that one of us gets to fuck her! And it’s me! I’m gonna fuck her!” Z-Dog yells over the noise. Lyle stares dagger at Z-Dog whilst his blush grows even more prevalent. 

“I don’t even know what to say to that…” Lyle shakes his head in disbelief. In the meantime Ja kept his hands on the door, finding his strength to pry Mansk’s door a little wider, as the group continued fighting.

“Okay! Okay…Can everyone please calm down? This is getting out of hand! What happened to working together and acting like mature grownups! Are we going to solve this like adults, or are we gonna resort to childish and immature behaviour by fighting for some ‘prize’?” Lyle raises his voice in anger.

“Oh we’re handling this like adults! We’re not letting Mansk have his way with (Y/N)! Open the damn fucking door Mansk!!” Z-Dog yells, to which exhales through his nose, thinking for a bit.

“Why doesn’t (Y/N) get to decide what happens? She should be the one that gets to have a say in this,” an idea pops into Lyle’s head, “Why don’t we all take it to a vote?” This seems to calm the group down for a moment, ja’s hold on the door weakens and Mansk takes the opportunity to close the door and lock it, spurring a fury with the group outside.

Lyle sigh’s addressing Mansk from outside, “Mansk what are you doing? Let’s be civil about this and decide this with a vote!  Come on! We’re all adults here, this isn’t a zoo where we resort to violence and fighting to get our way!” He glances at the others who are desperately banging on the door.

“She likes all of us, idiot! And we all like her!! You just gave them an opportunity to fuck!” Ja spits out.

“What do you suggest we should do then, if you're so smart?” Lyle sighs, looking to everyone for answers, “Should we all try to kill each other for a prize? Or should we try to get along and let (Y/N) decide who she wants to be with?” Surely we should be civil and let it be decided by a vote, no?”

What was unexpected for everyone outside the door was the sounds of moaning and groaning coming from inside Mansk’s room. They stop banging on the door for a moment, digesting the sounds coming from in the room.

“It seems like the discussion has ended…” Lyle looks at everyone before speaking again, “Now the next question is, what do we do…? Should we leave them be…?” And apparently it was the wrong thing to ask as now everyone has changed their motives as they begin to break down the door.

“Woah! Hey!” Lyle tries stopping the group of furious avatars, hearing the door splinter and break, “That doesn’t sound good…” The group manage to break the door off it's hinges, revealing Mansk balls deep between my legs with his head lolled back in pleasure and the group riots.

Lyle, who looks horrified at the scene, screams out, “Mansk! What the hell are you doing? You’re gonna hurt her!” He runs into the room and tackles Mansk to the floor before he has a chance to continue. Ja who spots his opportunity pulls me into his arms whilst I’m still naked to take me to his room. Lyle who sees this yells out again.

“No! Stop that!” Running after Ja and pulling me out of Ja’s arms, speeding down the hallway clutching me tightly, but we don’t get far as Lyle is instantly jumped. The two of us are thrown onto the floor, as Lyle scrambles over me to cover my naked body, shielding me from the group.

“WHAT THE EVERLOVING HELL IS GOING ON!” Quaritch’s booming voice echoes through the hallway. Everyone is instantly frozen and silent as they all turn to find an angry half naked and groggy Quaritch standing at his open bedroom door. There was a pregnant pause before I found my own voice.

“Colonel…help…” I say from beneath the pile. 

“(Y/N)?” Quaritch looks at the pile of avatars, finding the top of my head peeking out from beneath the pile, Quaritch waves his hand at the pile of avatars who silently remove themselves, sans Lyle. Revealing me naked on the floor. The shift in Quaritch’s expression was quick, he instantly swooped me into his arms bringing me into his room and covering my body with a blanket.

“Stay here sweetheart, I’ll go deal with the others…” he moved quickly to deal with the situation, returning a measly ten minutes later. Closing the door, he locks it to my surprise. Turning with a smirk.

“Well now…how bout you give me that ‘happy ending treatment’…?”

Taglist:

@drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @cumikering @ducks118 @writerfromcz @dyingofcookies @dreamaboutpinkk  @roseannecaiwan @llamaredpyiama

[tiyora81]

Second chapter of my Mansk/Reader fic is here hehehe

I finished it very shameless on a plane lmao

[aanylah-101]

Hopefully gonna release a Zdinarsk x Walker x Recom Reader before 12 tonight 👍

Edit; I may not be finishing It tonight

[shu-box-puns]

I never would have given you to them; not for anything (Tsu'tey x Reader)

Last Chapter <- Part 4 -> Next Chapter

If you prefer to read on Ao3, you can find the fic here!

Summary: The memory hurts, but does you no harm.

Word Count: 8,978

Reader uses they/them pronouns.

With every room, Tsu’tey was shown a snippet of the past. 

Some things he remembered, and others, he knew, belonged to the mind he was currently trespassing in. In all of them, he reached out. And in all of them, his hand caused their disappearance.

By the third room, Tsu’tey knew what Eywa was trying to tell him. He finally understood, but the torment continued regardless.

Now, he found himself back in Hell’s Gate, crouched awkwardly in a laboratory that was not built for someone of his height. Link units lined the far walls, whilst military personnel manned the machines instead of the usual white lab-coated scientists. 

The room was teaming with yet more military people. All in uniformed lines, waiting to be called up.

One by one, Tsu’tey observed as important looking men and women stepped up to empty link units with papers in hand. Predictably, they would hand the papers to the officer manning the machines, who checked it over before motioning for them to climb into the link units. They laid down, and the lids would close. 

Tsu’tey watched from the sidelines, feeling drained and weary. 

Out of nowhere, he spotted his human mate in one of the far lines. They held their papers and chin high, eyes burning as they had been in that very first corridor, although the rage tinting this memory was significantly more subdued, as if it had had plenty of time to stew and calm. Carefully, Tsu’tey rounded the room to approach them, watching as they stepped up to the link unit when their name was called. They were all business now, following orders as they climbed into the unit and laid down, falling still as they allowed the lid to be closed on them.

Curious, Tsu’tey approached. He had witnessed the scientists linking up to their avatars once or twice, and knew they would lay in these pods for hours at a time, before emerging sweaty and exhausted, but beaming every time. These military people did not emerge smiling. They hauled themselves out of the link units with scowls and menacing rolls of their shoulders. They oozed aggression and confidence, and it made the back of Tsu’tey neck itch. 

It made him want to grab his mate and drag them out of this horrible prison. Back out into the open forests of Pandora, where the enemy was securely out of sight and he had the upper hand. Of course, he could not do that here. He was trapped within a memory, still struggling to find the real recom, whilst his family guarded his unconscious body. 

His attention was drawn back to the link unit as it beeped and clicked open. Instinctively, he stepped back, expecting his mate or perhaps their recom form to come rolling out. Instead, the lid swung up and Tsu’tey found himself looking down into a room. The link bed had hollowed out and left behind an opening barely big enough for him to slip through.

Lips tightening, Tsu’tey glanced back up to the room and realised all the doors had disappeared. There were only windows that peered out into the corridors beyond the link room. Clearly, there was only one place for him to go.

Sighing tiredly, Tsu’tey readied himself. No one glanced his way as he approached the unit. No one seemed to hear the metal squeak under his weight as he sat on the lip and swung his feet to dangle down into the hole nestled within. Tsu’tey went completely unobserved as he shuffled forward and dropped through the opening into the room below. 

The ceiling closed up behind him, sealing him in the second room. Swallowing down the immediate panic at being trapped, Tsu’tey righted himself and forced himself to take in his surroundings. 

The room was small, barely the size of his tent back in High Camp, with tall, blinding white walls and a high ceiling. The air smelt stale. Sterile and unnaturally clean. As if the room hadn’t been aired for several years. Tucked against the far wall was a gurney big enough for an avatar to lay down on, whilst the walls directly opposite consisted of ceiling to floor one way mirrors that gave the illusion of the room being bigger than it was. Absently, Tsu’tey realised he didn’t need to crouch in here.

Straightening, he took a tentative step deeper into the room, only for paper to crinkle underfoot. He paused, lifting his foot to find those same papers everyone had been holding upstairs, littered across the spotless floor. They had been ripped up and left to float down in disorganised clusters. Every now and again, he caught sight of blue font, but found himself unable to read it.

In the far corner, tucked behind the gurney, someone sniffed wetly. 

Tsu’tey’s ears pricked as his head snapped up. Quiet shuffling suggested someone was curling in tighter on themselves. Tsu’tey wasn’t sure whether it was the lack of scent in the air that made him nauseous, or if it was the thought of finding another broken phantom tucked in that corner. 

Tentatively, he rounded the gurney, minding to keep a polite distance regardless of who he found seeking refuge behind it. Slowly, a shoe came into view, then a leg, both of which were swiftly yanked backwards and out of sight.

Amused, Tsu’tey huffed slightly and took another step. Bit by bit, he found his human mate curled up in the corner, quivering as they tucked themself up small. Their eyes watched him wearily, as Tsu’tey looked back with curiosity. 

That was new. Tsu’tey observed, holding their unsteady gaze. The others hadn’t noticed him until the memory drew to a close. 

Neither had they appeared so small. Of course, Tsu’tey was not surprised by the size difference, he vividly recalled how tall they had stood beside him. But here, there was something different. Something missing. As if someone had reached in and removed their spine, leaving their body to crumble without the support, curled in small and vulnerable. 

He also noticed the lack of feeling in this memory. The other phantoms had all portrayed grief or rage or regret, this one just looked tired.

“What do you want?” They croaked, their voice sounding as if it hadn’t been used in quite some time. Privately, Tsu’tey was impressed by how they managed to keep it somewhat steady, despite the lines of exhaustion carved into them. He noted that they were clothed in a simple tank top and cargo pants, the equivalent of the recom’s attire when they had been dragged into his tent.

How intriguing. Tsu’tey tilted his head, knowing that his ears were fanning wide in interest. His mate glanced from them to his face, and then checked what his tail was doing. That helped him figure out vaguely when this memory was, since they didn’t appear to be afraid of him at all, just cautious. 

“I was looking for you.” Tsu’tey replied honestly, his English thick on his tongue but still understandable. 

Their expression did not change. The exhaustion remaining the most prominent emotion on their face.

“Did you break in here to kill me?” They asked him. 

Tsu’tey felt his ears fall at the accusation. His throat was suddenly tight as he held up his empty hands and wiggled his fingers to emphasise that he came unarmed. Their expression did not hint to relief.

“Guess not.” They sighed, almost sounding disappointed.

For a long, drawn out moment, they simply looked at him. Watching. Calculating. No doubt drinking in his differences from the Tsu’tey at the time of this memory. And in return, Tsu’tey looked right back, his eyes flicking from their attire, to their face and then back again. Scrambling for clues or hidden meanings. In the other memories, he had been mostly an observer, with hardly anyone noticing him until the scene neared its end. And now that he had been addressed and seen so thoroughly, he found himself thrown off.

The human did not blink as Tsu’tey stared. They didn’t do a lot of anything really, other than breathe and watch him right back. It unnerved him enough that he had to look away first. 

Instead, he decided to take in his surroundings once more. Perhaps an exit, or a face behind the mirrors which would allow him a greater understanding of what exactly he was supposed to be doing here.

Instead, he noticed a holopad discarded near the head of the gurney, which he somehow hadn’t noticed upon dropping in through the ceiling. Or perhaps, it hadn’t been there to begin with. In this weird place between consciousness and reality, Tsu’tey had found that objects tended to appear and disappear on a whim with no rhyme or reason to it. As such, he wasn’t overly surprised to discover that the holopad was displaying a picture of his human mate. 

In the video, they were sat in the link room upstairs, their mouth frozen mid-word due to how the video had been paused. But he noted that they were still dressed in their usual military attire, with their beaded necklace barely visible above the collar.

“They had all of us film those.” His mate explained absently, “even though there wasn’t a guarantee they’d even use our file for the programme. I just did it for the information.” “Your file?” Tsu’tey pried, his eyes flickering back to them only to be guided downwards when they motioned to the paper confetti strewn across the floor. “Ah.” 

With a deep, steadying breath, they continued to explain. “The company didn’t use all of us. Just a select few of their favourites or most competent. Somehow, I must have convinced them I’m trustworthy.” They laughed dryly, “how though is fucking beyond me. I’m fucking terrible at this.”

If Tsu’tey weren’t so tired, he might have contradicted them. Afterall, they had been offering up information for weeks before the RDA had decided to make a move, and even then, it hadn’t been because of them. Instead, his mind faltered at the new information. 

It hadn’t even occurred to him that the demons had had plenty of sky people memories lined up in preparation for their unnatural experiment. It hadn’t crossed his mind that there had been a chance that his mate wouldn’t have been one of them. The idea that the last few days had only occurred because of coincidence stumped him. If anything had been different, then his mate would still be resting, still be buried in the Wells of Souls, but instead, they were here. And he had no idea how they felt about that.

“You are a convincing ally.” Tsu’tey said instead, shoving all of his panic down to ensure that his voice came out smooth. “People want to trust you.”

They laughed with no humour. “Must not have carried over.” 

Tsu’tey frowned. Something in the back of his mind flickered back to life, letting him know that this interaction was not turning out like the others.

“God, what a mess.” His mate continued, a small, bitter chuckle slipping out of them. “Should have just stayed dead honestly.” They continued to say, making Tsu’tey’s stomach go queasy with unease. 

He turned back to them, no longer surprised to find the recom body curled up in the corner instead of their human form. The shifts had happened randomly within every room, even as the recom’s personality and decisions had remained consistent. “Would’ve saved you all a shit tonne of trouble.”

Tsu’tey looked at them now. Really looked at them. At the distant glint in their half-lidded eyes, the droop of their ears, the slump of their shoulders. How they were leaning heavily against the wall, loosely holding their knees. All the fight seemed to have seeped out of them, and somehow, that was more terrifying than any of the fury or desperation from earlier memories. 

“You don’t mean that.” Tsu’tey hissed, his voice tight. His mate refused to look at him now, all curled in on themselves in the corner so that Tsu’tey wouldn’t be able to reach them unless he moved the gurney to the side. “Please tell me you don’t mean that.” He sounded desperate, even to his own ears.

Their tail lightly tapped the floor. Once. Pause. Twice. Another pause. 

“It would have been easier though, wouldn’t it?”

Their tail tapped again.

“Perhaps.” Tsu’tey agreed hesitantly. “But you don’t say things like that. You’ve never said things like that!”

The comparison struck a nerve. “And look where that’s got me!” They snapped back, eyes jumping to find his. Their lip curled up into the beginning of a snarl. “Alone! Again!” 

“You’re not alon-”

And it were as if he had found a loose thread in a loom and tugged with all his might. Before his eyes, the recom unravelled. Any calm, any hint of control they were harbouring, abruptly shattered as they snapped. “Cut the crap, Tsu’tey!” They snarled, a growl slipping into their voice now. The way their face twisted was like no expression Tsu’tey had ever seen on them before. “I betrayed the RDA, again. The first fucking chance I got. And somehow Quaritch knows now and he’ll stop at nothing to kill me. The clan is,” they swallowed painfully, “different. But what the hell was I expecting? It’s been fifteen years, of COURSE it’s different.” They were breathing fast now, their previous weariness at Tsu’tey’s presence having been completely swept away. “And I have a son. We have a son!”

They threw themselves forward, legs crossing as their elbows slammed down onto their knees. They buried their face into their hands, ears swivelling with the sheer shock of it all. “How the hell did I end up with a kid? I don’t even remember adopting him, but fuck, I know I loved him. I had it so good, and now, it’s gone! We had everything! And I don’t fucking remember any of it!”

Tsu’tey was left speechless once again as the recom curled in on themself, dry heaves making their back jump. “It’s all gone.” They repeated brokenly. 

Tsu’tey’s eyes widened as he watched them break down. Their sobs were deep, shuddering things, heavy and heart wrenching. It made him want to rush forward and scoop them up in his arms. To hold them close and shield them from the world with his much larger body until they felt whole again. He wanted to smooth down their hair, and whisper meaningless reassurance as he held them tight. But most of all, he wanted the tears to stop. It was like an itch he couldn’t reach. A burning need to soothe their pain. Rage, he could deal with. Regret, he could appease. But this, this grief was raw and painfully fresh.

Hesitantly, Tsu’tey reached out, but stopped himself. 

How dare he attempt to wipe away the evidence of their sorrow, when he had had a hand in placing it there. How dare he want to offer words of comfort, when he had tried to kill them before. 

Tsu’tey’s throat was tight as he cursed himself for not reacting differently. For not listening the first time round and avoiding this entire mess. Maybe, in another universe, it wouldn’t have been his fault they were here, injured and alone in the forest with only children for company. 

So he just stood there, frozen and helpless, waiting for those sobs to subside on their own, his hand still outstretched. Tsu’tey vowed to himself that for as long as he should live, he would offer them a better life than the one that had been stolen. 

It took several, long minutes for them to calm themselves. With a snivel, they rubbed harshly at the skin beneath their eyes. Clearly, they had needed it. 

“Spider watches your old security logs.” Tsu’tey found himself offering, noting in his peripheral, how the recom stilled at the wobble in his voice. “It helps him, to see you. To hear your voice. Sometimes I sit down and watch them with him.” “He’s a good kid.” The recom agreed bitterly, their voice muffled. “You did a good job with him.”

“Perhaps.” Tsu’tey agreed noncommittally. “But he is still young, and he has missed you, I have-”

Abruptly, they caught his gaze. Tsu’tey stopped talking.

Something in their expression had changed, although he couldn’t place it. Their response was simple but devastating. “It will pass.” 

The words startled him. 

His silence allowed his mate to keep talking, their eyes watery and distant. “Missing a ghost, will not help him to heal. You know this.”

Tsu’tey dropped to his knees. Panic clawed up the back of his throat as their expression shuttered, their emotions sweeping out of their features. Shutting him out. 

“No. Don’t. Pleas-” “I think it’s time to wash off your paint, Tsu’tey. Don’t you?” They said, “you need to stop punishing yourself. You can’t keep living like this.”

“How did you- how do-?” He cut himself off with a growl of frustration. At this point, the words were beyond him, the English growing awkward and clunky on his tongue. He slapped his tail against the floor in irritation.

Across from him, the recom managed to collect themselves. 

On legs that shook like a newborn pa’li, they stood, leaning heavily on the gurney as they went. They were tall, he realised, having only seen them kneeling and cowering before.

<”Where are you going?”> Tsu’tey demanded, panic creeping in now. He didn’t think he would survive another door. 

The recom paused. They made a point of surveying the blank walls, eyes squinting in the bright light. <”I can’t stay here.”> They told him, a mirror explanation to the one they had offered when Neytiri had them kneeling on Mo’at’s floor. <”And neither can you.”> They stood, and on shaky feet began walking towards a door that had appeared in the far wall of the door. Tsu’tey had been so focused on them, that he hadn’t even registered the familiar pull of the exit coming into being. 

He was on his feet in moments. Hands shaking as he watched before his eyes as the recom changed once more. Before his eyes, dirt and blood began dotting their blue skin, concealing their stripes under filth and injuries. He watched as makeshift leaf bandages wound around their torso, clinging tight to an injury Tsu’tey couldn’t see. They hunched over themselves, an arm winding around their stomach to add pressure.

They hobbled towards the door. Tsu’tey reached out. His long fingers shook as they hovered in midair. The recom froze when his searching hand found theirs. Large, terrified eyes caught Tsu’tey’s and held. Their wrist was warm in his grasp, solid and real, their pulse thundering under the thin skin. He waited. One breath. Two. They did not disappear.

The relief that flooded him almost had him falling to his knees.

<”Found you.”> 

The room shook. Lights flickered and the gurney slammed into the wall.

“Shit.” The recom breathed, the arm around their stomach shooting out to slam against the wall in an attempt to keep their footing. Tsu’tey’s grip on them turned supportive as he braced himself. Before the first had even subsided, a second, more insistent quake shook the room. Overhead, the lights swung on their wires as the sound of footsteps had stopped. “We have to get out of here!” They flicked their wrist, fingers twisting to grasp Tsu’tey’s wrist in return. Their grip was firm; unbreakable. “Come on!” They snarled, yanking with surprising strength and dragging the surprised hunter through the now open door.

>_<

Before he even opened his eyes, Tsu’tey knew he was resurfacing from the bond. That that last door had been the door.

Beyond the shield of his closed eyelids, he could hear disembodied voices yelling at one another. Tsu’tey huffed, typical of the Sully's, to devolve into a verbal sparring match the moment he was occupied. Lo’ak no doubt offered up a ridiculous plan that reminded Jake too much of his younger, wreckless self, and therefore sent the man into a panic. 

Blarily, Tsu’tey managed to peel his eyelids open, the sound of raised voices helping to rouse him. Gently, he reached down and disconnected from the recom, who was also beginning to come round. 

Before waking up properly, Tsu’tey wanted to take a moment to look them over. To study their face and begin to learn where the similarities began and where they ended. He wanted to start over, to soothe their fear and take them home, where they would be safe. Somewhere where he could apologise-

With a jarring suddenness, Tsu’tey realised Spider wasn’t at his side. 

Tearing his eyes from the recom, he wasted precious seconds glancing stupidly down at his empty side, where Spider’s warm little body was not curled up next to him. Nor was he there to bring Tsu’tey out of the bond with his voice. And that alone sent alarm zinging through Tsu’tey’s nerves. 

It was then that he realised he did not recognise all of the yelling voices.

His bow was in hand before he’d decided on reaching for it. 

“Don’t make any hasty decisions colonel.” Jake instructed from the foot of Eywa’s throne.

With a start, Tsu’tey realised that he was the only one still perched between the roots, whereas the rest of the Sully family minus Kiri stood on the moss, their knives drawn as Jake attempted to negotiate with yet another recom. A demon that Tsu’tey distantly recognised as the human that had died in the metal skeleton by the old compound. The one the soldiers addressed as ‘sir’. 

And the demon had Tsu’tey’s son by the hair, a knife pressed across the base of his throat. How he had managed it was beyond Tsu’tey, but he knew that the demon would pay for such a blatant show of disrespect.

At the demon’s back, on his right, stood a bald soldier. His hair shaved apart from the single braid that protected his kuru. This one had somehow gotten ahold of Kiri and was holding her in a similar stance. The sight stoked the flames of Tsu’tey’s rage.

Drawing himself up off of his knees and into a low crouch, Tsu’tey notched an arrow and aimed. The movement drew the enemy’s attention. And Tsu’tey hissed as his burning eyes met that of the demon and held his stare.

“Release!” He snarled, the English rusty and disjointed as it slid off his tongue, but he could tell the demon understood by the minute raising of his ears. 

The colonel looked him up and down, no doubt noting his assortment of bands and beads which symbolised his elevated status within the clan. Distantly, Tsu’tey wished he were upon a pa’li or something more threatening than the Great Mother’s throne, just so he could glare down at the demon with the silent threat of charging after him if he decided to run.

Predictably, the colonel did not back down.

“Tell your friend to stand down or I’m killing one of ‘em.” The demon ordered, eyes trained on Tsu’tey even though he was clearly talking to Jake, who stood the closest to the recom, with Neytiri practically glued to his side, her bow clenched tightly in one hand. 

“Tsu’tey.” The marine warned, chancing a glance over his shoulder to Tsu’tey, who’s tail writhed in rage. 

At his back, Neteyam shifted uneasily. His glare trained solely on the recoms, his knife held at a threatening angle, ready to jump in should the colonel take Jake’s distraction as an invitation.

Tsu’tey did not want to listen to reason. He was a predator. A father. Fuming and coiled to protect his own. 

He had wanted this demon dead before, for what he had done to HomeTree. For abandoning Spider in the first place. But now-

Tsu’tey tightened his arm, pulling the arrow back.

Now, he wanted to send this abomination back to Eywa personally. 

“Tsu’tey!” Jake repeated through gritted teeth.

<“He has my son!”> 

<”Not for long.”> Jake promised, in that infuriatingly determined way of his. <”Just let me…”> He trailed off, allowing the silence to speak for him. For several seconds, Tsu’tey held his posture, expression positively thunderous. The demon did not so much as flinch, not even when the hunter’s arms began aching from the strain of keeping the arrow notched. 

His eyes briefly flickered down to Spider who was holding perfectly still. Despite the fear in his expression, the boy did not shake. There was quiet defiance there, accompanied by a strong foundation of trust. Trust that Tsu’tey would make the correct decision to keep him safe. 

<”Olo’eyktan!”> Neytiri snapped, fixing him with her most lethal of looks. The one that implored him to think clearly. And reminded him that they were in the same boat.

Tsu’tey drew his arrow back an additional inch, debating, only to loosen the tension and allow the projectile to land uselessly in his hand. Even if he killed the colonel, the other would slit Kiri’s throat before he could ready a second arrow. It would be too risky. Not to mention, Neytiri would have his head if anything happened to Kiri on his watch.

The demon grinned in victory. 

“Good choice.” He praised condescendingly, to which Tsu’tey hissed harshly. “Now throw it down.” 

Tsu’tey glared right back, holding onto his bow defiantly. 

The demon did not take kindly to that and turned his fury on all of them. “All of you! Drop the knives!” Almost in unison, Spider and Kiri let out a cut off yelps as the knife at their throats were dug in.

Jake did as ordered. His shoulders impossibly tight as he allowed his knife to clatter to the floor. As some twisted reward, the demon holding Kiri, relieved some of the pressure on her neck, causing the teen to gasp in relief.

The action prompted Neytiri to follow suit. Her father’s bow was carefully lowered to the moss, her arrows tossed down with it. Tsu’tey noted how she didn’t bother reaching for the knife to do the same and simply allowed her hand to remain close to it, partly concealing the sheath from view. Under her breath, she snapped at Lo’ak and Neteyam to do the same, urging them in Na’vi to make a show of it. 

They did. 

Neytiri slid her eyes up Eywa’s throne to Tsu’tey, who immediately took notice of his friend’s expression. This was not surrender. Not in her eyes. Just a means at which to succeed. With a deep breath, Tsu’tey decided to perform like she expected and threw down his bow, which bounced off the roots and landed somewhere in the moss. Neytiri dipped her chin but said nothing more as she snapped her attention back to the grinning colonel.

“Good. Very good Sully.” The demon complimented, “it seems you’re much better at taking orders when it’s not just you. Noted.” He allowed his knife to stop cutting into Spider, and instead hoisted the blade higher, forcing the boy to lift his chin to avoid a new injury. Tsu’tey blood boiled at the thin line of red left behind in the blade’s wake. 

Behind the colonel, the demon holding Kiri shifted his stance. Knife still held firmly to the teen’s throat, the man reached for his belt and pulled out a pair of bright orange handcuffs. With a nod from his superior, he tossed them to Jake who fumbled to catch them. 

“Put the cuffs on Sully and no one has to get hurt.”

<”Jake-”> Neytiri spoke up, her hand falling to her mate’s wrist, trying to discourage any rash decisions, but she was powerless in the wake of his earnestness. 

<”Whatever happens, stay with the kids.”> He whispered, causing Neytiri’s expression to break wide open in panic. Jake smiled sadly, reaching up to place his hand over her’s and squeezed tightly. 

<”Do not be stupid.”> Neytiri hissed, before relenting and stepping back. She pulled Tuk with her, keeping her youngest daughter firmly shielded from view with her body. Lo’ak stepped back with her, flanking her side with a glare on his face that matched his father. 

Neteyam stayed with Jake. Furious. His upper lip was twitching constantly, a sure sign he was one bad move away from letting out a snarl and throwing caution to the wind. 

Jake drew himself up, inhaling deeply before returning his attention to the colonel. “Let up on some of that pressure.” He ordered smoothly, aiming for a tone that would guide but not offend. “The kid’s gonna pass out.”

The colonel’s face split into a wide grin, 

Whatever cutting response he was gearing up to throw back, however, never reached Tsu’tey’s ears, as he was distracted by movement in the corner of his eye. Glancing down, he startled as his mate finally began moving. Up until this point, they had been entirely motionless, as if caught in a pleasant slumber. But now, they were shifting and quietly groaning.

With blurry eyes and jerky movements, they somehow hauled their battered body up into a sitting position, whilst Tsu’tey stared dumbly. The conversation on the moss had also fallen quiet at the introduction of yet another player in the game. <”Zaza-”> Spider whispered softly, before biting off a wince as the knife at his throat dug in to silence him.

The name caused the recom’s ears to flick up in recognition. 

Rubbing at their temple, they struggled to get their feet under them. They were still mightily unsteady from the blood loss, so much so that Tsu’tey couldn’t stop himself from stepping forward to offer a hand.

The movement caught them wildly off guard. 

With a yelp, the recom stumbled back. Their arms windmilling frantically to keep their footing on the uneven roots, only for their entire body to flinch and throw them off balance when they realised it was Tsu’tey stepping towards them. They stumbled backwards, only to trip on a high root and promptly fall over the side of the throne and land in a painful heap of limbs on the moss below. 

The colonel let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. “Finally awake then Private.” The demon mused, “thought these savages got to you before I could.”

The heap on the floor let out another yelp, as they scrambled to sit upright. If the recom’s eyes were wide before, they were practically the size of the moon as they slowly turned their head to find the colonel standing a few short feet away. “Colonel.” They greeted shakily, “fancy seeing you here sir.”

The colonel glared down his nose at them.

“Wainfleet.” The recom continued, nodding mockingly to the demon holding Kiri. The sunglasses on his nose obscured his eyes, but Tsu’tey knew he was glaring.

“Ah shit.” The recom muttered to themselves before waving sheepishly at Jake and the rest of the Sullys. “Long time no see guys.” They glanced briefly up at Tsu'tey, still perched upon the throne. “Olo’eyktan.”

Tsu’tey’s expression shuttered. The fear tinted respect that oozed into their tone made his stomach turn.

Just as quickly as he was addressed, Tsu’tey was forgotten as the recom’s gaze fell back on the other demons and their hostages. Before his eyes, Tsu’tey observed as something in their posture shifted. 

With all the swagger of someone still heavily injured, the recom collected themselves and scrambled to their feet. They made a show of dusting themselves off before straightening. “I’m assuming Mansk called you then.” “That would be right. Led me right to ya.” The colonel confirmed, the recom having thoroughly captured his attention. “Nice. Wanna get on with this then?”

“I’ll deal with you later.” The colonel snapped, eyes returning to Jake who was turning the orange cuffs over and over again in his hands. He made no move to put them on, his attention completely on Tsu’tey’s mate, waiting to see their next move.

“Oh.” The recom huffed, all theatrics and flowery words. “I thought you’d want to get right into it.” 

Tsu’tey felt his confusion mounting. Only seconds before, their spiritual form had been having a breakdown about being found by the colonel. What had changed?

The colonel sighed heavily, the blade at Spider’s neck relaxing now that his attention had been captured elsewhere. Smartly, the kid did not react, and simply sucked in some deep, welcoming breaths. 

“You’re dying, Private.” Quaritch spat, as if it were obvious. “You’re the least of my troubles.” “Of course. Yeah, I mean, you’re probably right.” The recom agreed, glancing down the line of their body, to their blood soaked tank, and the torn state of their trousers and embarrassing lack of footwear. They glanced up, their head tilting dangerously. “But I always thought you were an eye for an eye kind of man. All about vengeance and settling the score. I never dreamed I’d get off so easily after everything I’ve done.” 

<”What are you doing?”> Tsu’tey hissed, watching the recom’s ear flick back to him. They ignored him, or simply did not have good enough of a grasp on Na’vi to understand. “If you know what’s good for you, Private, you’ll shut it. Now!” tTe colonel snapped. 

In the next moment, his attention had snapped back to Jake as his knife once again dug back into Spider’s neck, carving a new line into his flesh. “Hop to it Sully, I don’t got all damn day.” Jake didn’t move, his head snapping from the recom to the colonel in quick succession. He didn’t move to pull on the handcuffs.

The recom took one, deliberate side step away from Eywa’s throne. The colonel’s attention was immediately back on them. They tilted their head and smirked sweetly. 

“The hell are you playing at Private?” “I’m just a little hurt, sir.” They told him, their steps turning into a languid saunter as they moved away from the Tree and began putting some considerable distance between themselves and the Sullys. As a result, Quaritch had to turn with them to prevent them from slipping into his blind spot.

“I mean,” the recom continued, their tone as sweet as a lover in the dead of night. “I repeatedly backstabbed you for years, and you’re practically letting me go. And then we’ve got Jake, some random marine that only screwed you over after three months of knowing you. I’d assume, you’d be more hurt by my betrayal, rather than a man you hardly know, Colonel.” They paused their strides, smiling still. “I thought we had something special.”

If Tsu’tey didn’t know any better, he might have thought the recom were flirting with him.

The colonel stiffened. Something dangerous slipped into his tone as his head moved with the recom, calculating their every step. “Whatever game you’re playing Private, I’m not interested.”

“Come on,” they drawled, “you’re no fun.”

“And you’re wasting my bleeding time!” The colonel snapped back.

They shrugged, all false bravado and pointy teeth. 

Wainfleet, who had been as distracted as his commanding officer up until this point, promptly snapped out of whatever trance the recom had put them under. With a growl, he turned his attention to Sully, whilst the colonel glared at the recom.

“We don’t have all day. Move it Sully.” He snapped, tightening his grip on Kiri so she yelped and jerked against the knife. Jake took half a step forward, to which Wainfleet tightened his hold. 

“Ah ah ah, Corporal.” The recom sang, beginning to circle again. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

“The hell are you going to do about it?” Wainfleet immediately challenged. 

“Lyle!” The colonel cut in warningly, his second in command promptly backed down. “Watch my sixth.” He continued, as the recom’s leisurely strolling finally took them behind him and out of sight. 

“Sir.” 

The recom had stopped walking again, their tail flicking every now and again. Slow and relaxed, despite the pale sheen to their skin and how their freckles barely glowed. If Tsu’tey weren’t actively looking at their bloodied shirt, he might have been fooled into believing they were fine. 

Their tone was chipper as they responded to Wainfleet’s jab. “Pandora is a dangerous place.” They told their old comrades. “But it’s deadly the moment you fall out of favour with the clans who roam it.”

“You and whose army?” Quaritch immediately challenged with a scoff. “You’re no na’vi. These <i>freaks</i> won’t help you.” He momentarily removed the blade from Spider’s throat to motion to the Sully’s and Tsu’tey, who were all motionless on the sidelines as they watched the recom work. The colonel looked awfully confident for a fly unknowingly caught in a hungry spider’s web. “You’ve seen what they do to us.” 

The recom pulled their lips back and smiled menacingly. “I don’t need them any more than I needed you.” They said sweetly, and began circling again. Winding both men up tighter and tighter with unease. “In fact, you’re no longer of use to me, colonel.” “What in hell has gotten into you?” The colonel asked, eyebrows scrunching now in confusion. “What freaky plants have you been hooking up to out here?”

“Only the important ones.” The recom replied merrily, “and now that that’s out of the way, and I finally have your attention sir, I’m ready to repent.” “What are you on about?” 

The way the recom had positioned themselves, had Quaritch and Wainfleet’s attention completely off of the Sullys. Neytiri had taken the opening by the throat and scooped up Tuk. Eyes never leaving the enemy, she deposited the quivering child into Lo’ak’s arms, who took her easily. Tuk cuddled into him, allowing Lo’ak to run soothing fingers through her braids as he offered quiet reassurance. 

Catching onto her intentions, Jake firmly pushed Neteyam away from his side, silencing the teen when he instinctively tried to argue. The marine looked pointedly at his other two kids, a look which Neteyam followed and immediately understood. Between them, both parents pointed the trio in the direction of the Tree without drawing the enemy’s attention. The children went willingly enough, their anxiety obvious. 

Tsu’tey offered his hand to them, helping them over the roots and behind the tree. His attention was still firmly on the odd scene occurring out on the moss, but he offered soft reassurance where he could. 

<”Keep quiet.”> He whispered, to which only Tuk nodded. <”This will be over soon.”> They slid out of sight, and Tsu’tey took the opportunity to hop down from the throne. The motion drew the attention of Wainfleet, but he did nothing but watch. In return. Tsu’tey did not charge him, even though he desperately wanted to.

“-taken a lot of shit that doesn’t belong to me. Including your private documents, personal keycards and military supplies.” The recom listed out on their fingers. It seemed they had taken their role as distraction incredibly seriously. And Quaritch was predictably eating it up. 

“You little snake.” The colonel snarled, fury evident in the thrash of his tail.

Tsu’tey sidled up closer to Jake’s side, the movement completely unobserved by both recoms. <”What are they doing?”> He hissed to Jake who shrugged, the cuffs half hanging off one of his wrists.

Somehow, his mate had heard him, despite standing a considerable distance away. The next words that slipped off their tongue, dripped with fake bravado so thick that Tsu’tey could almost smell it. “Why, I am confessing of course.” They declared dramatically, their arms spread wide in some confident mockery of a repenting sinner. They cackled, high and breathless. More pained than mirthful. “God this is gonna feel fantastic to finally gloat about.” 

It was then that their odd behaviour clicked for Tsu’tey. This was not the bravado of a soldier seeking recognition. Nor was it a hunter boasting about a long and tedious hunt. The confidence was all for show. Every perfectly selected word was laced with pride and oozing badly concealed desperation. The closest thing he could compare it to was an animal attempting to convince a predator that they would make a more appetising meal than the younger prey in its clutches. “Oh, but I’m sure you know that colonel. You’re an awfully smart man.” They continued condescendingly, “surely you had to know I was disloyal from the beginning.” Quaritch had gone unnervingly still, so the recom continued. “Surely, you weren’t convinced that Jake arranged all of those inconveniences. Come on sir, you remember it like it was yesterday, don’t you? All those security plans going missing. All those dozers getting decimated by Omaticayan hunting parties within minutes of entering the territory. All the inconsistencies in the armoury. Those missing weapons that no one seemed to be able to explain.”

“I don’t believe you.” The colonel said plainly. “Not even you are that bright Private. Besides, you had no reason to betray me, I treated you as my own.”

“That’s what I wanted you to think.” They told him. “You can’t have orchestrated all of that.” Wainfleet jumped in. They grinned. “Who else? Jake certainly does have the brains. He’s all brawn and eye candy. He may have had a hand in killing you, sir, but I essentially handed him the knife.” They explained. “I traded your classified secrets for archery lessons. I handed over the maps for private supply routes in exchange for an ikran ride. Oh, and the locations of your forest squads? All that broken equipment? I gave those up for a sip of the clan’s alcohol, and shit, it was worth it. That stuff was strong-”

Tsu’tey saw the entirety of the recom’s plan moments before all hell broke loose. He knew that they knew they were playing with fire. He was aware that they knew they would not win this encounter, not unaided. He saw the look in their eye, the one a hunter wears when they got on a mission they have no issue with not returning from. And it infuriated Tsu’tey to no end. 

“And then.” They paused, snorting obnoxiously. “The idiots brought me back, and practically handed me all the new stats. All those delicious numbers and coordinates,” they tapped their temple, “all right here, ready to buy me all sorts of things.”

It was then that Miles Quaritch snapped.

With an enraged snarl, the man threw Spider aside and charged. And of course, the wounded recom had anticipated this reaction. Smooth as water sliding over a submerged river stone, their stance shifted from a confident standoff, to a defensive crouch. Suddenly ready to take on Quaritch’s rage. 

Tsu’tey took off at a sprint, Neytiri hot on his heels. 

Spider sprawled in the moss, eyes wide and fearful. He’d barely landed on his forearms, before he was trying to shove himself back to his feet.

<”ZAZA!”> 

 Tsu’tey was skidding to his side within moments, his knees smarting with friction burns but he didn’t care. Frantically, he checked him over, hands, feet, neck. The latter which, thankfully, only had a shallow cut. 

Neytiri had continued on, yanking her knife free of its sheath before she leapt and threw herself at Wainfleet, who threw Kiri aside in order to parry the blow with his own weapon. The teen collapsed to her knees, her breathing fast and bordering on hysterical. As Tsu’tey held his quivering son close, he watched Neytiri herd the soldier away, her knife strikes precise and deadly. Forcing him to back away or get skewered.

Jake was at Kiri’s side in seconds. His voice was low and soothing as he pulled her against him. Kiri went willingly, dissolving into choked sobs as she grabbed desperately onto Jake, who held her back just as fiercely. 

<”Dad!”> Spider gasped, panic evident in his tone. He was squirming hard against Tsu’tey, trying to wiggle away, but Tsu’tey was reluctant to let him. <”DAD!”> His boy yelled at him, snapping Tsu’tey out of it with the sheer desperation in his tone. He looked down at his son who looked on the verge of tears. Spider pointed at the brawl currently happening across the moss. <”DO SOMETHING! HE’LL KILL THEM!”>

And Quaritch certainly was trying his best. 

Any technique he had had been thrown out of the window as emotion took over. 

“I trusted you!” The man roared, aiming blow after blow that the recom only barely avoided. 

“Your mistake!” They threw back, accenting the end of the declaration with a loud cackle. The response was all bravado, just another feeble attempt to keep the demon’s attention on them. To allow the rest of them to escape. 

<”DAD!”> Spider repeated, shaking him. Tsu’tey yanked himself out of his stupor. 

<“Okay.”> He reassured him. <”Okay. Don’t worry.”> He pressed a kiss to the top of his boy’s head, giving him a tight squeeze before rising to his knees. 

There was no doubt left in Tsu’tey’s mind. No inkling of uncertainty. Not now, not after everything he had seen and everything he had witnessed. He only prayed that he would be forgiven for his mistakes. 

Across the bowl, the colonel was still spitting enraged declarations with every wild swing of his knife. “-should have killed you the moment-”

“But you didn’t!” The recom sang, barely dodging the utility knife Quaritch tried to shove in their eye socket in retaliation. To their credit, they were putting up a valiant fight. Snarling and spitting as they kicked and shoved with everything their wounded body had left. 

It spurred Tsu’tey into action. 

He sprinted across the moss, leaping over Wainfleet’s felled body and then again so that he collided with the colonel’s body from a higher vantage point. The man let out a whoosh as the breath was knocked from him. Tsu’tey followed his body down, wrestling the demon down onto his stomach before sitting himself firmly on his back. In a heartbeat, Tsu’tey’s knife was slipping from his sheath and carving a new one into the body of the writhing demon, who grunted from the force. He wasn’t dead yet. 

Tsu’tey wanted him dead. 

He wanted the peace of mind in knowing that he had ended this demon here and now. He needed to know Spider would be safe from him. That his son would be able to move freely in the forests again without fear of being kidnapped. He had to know that this demon would not seek revenge on his mate. That the man would be unable to raise his blade against anyone again.

Twirling his knife into a new grip, Tsu’tey reangled his blade and shoved it in between the demon’s ribs, straight into a lung which popped with a distant thud and a pained wheeze from the demon’s slack lips. His body spasmed from the pain before relaxing into death’s embrace. 

Neytiri’s shadow fell over Tsu’tey as the Olo’eyktan fought to catch his breath. The kill itself had been easy, but the time it had taken to get to it had thoroughly drained him. 

Her tail flicked in contentment as she glared down at the fresh corpse. <”Nicely done.”> She informed him.

Tsu’tey almost smiled. Such praise from Neytiri of all huntresses was as good as a pat on the back. 

He allowed the comment to hang in the air for a moment as he yanked his knife free of the body and rose to his feet. 

<”At least we will rest well knowing the job is done properly this time.”> Tsu’tey teased tiredly. Neytiri clicked her teeth at him, giving his shoulder a playful shove before turning on her heel and rushing back to her children. 

Tsu’tey had a similar idea and immediately returned his attention to Spider. Only to realise his son was no longer where he had left him. 

Instead, he had raced across the moss and promptly thrown himself into his Zaza’s arms, who had collapsed onto their knees out of sheer exhaustion. All bravado had been swept off of their expression now, replaced by relief as they opened their arms to Spider and held him tightly. Their unsteady hands loosely brushed through Spider’s dreads, mindful of his mask straps. “I’m alright kid.” They told him, even though they hardly sounded as if they believed it themselves. “I’m okay.”

Spider didn’t respond. His body was tense all over, and only winding tighter under their careful touch. 

“We’re okay.” The recom repeated. “He’s dead.” 

Spider nodded, giving them another tight squeeze before pulling back. Standing beside the kneeling recom, he almost towered over them. 

His son frowned as he looked down upon his Zaza’s beaten face. Gently, his hand cupped their cheeks, turning their face this way and that to check the damage. “You will need to be looked at by a Tsahik.” He informed them seriously, which startled a smile out of the recom as if it were some inside joke between them. 

“You’re going first.” They told him, looking pointedly at the thin lines still bleeding down Spider’s throat.

“I’m okay, Zaza.” Spider said quietly, although it did little to ease the crease between the recom’s brows. Even that simple expression was frighteningly familiar to Tsu’tey, as it had been the look they wore when Spider had skinned his knee or sustained some miniscule cut as an infant.

“Good to hear, but you better get Mo’at to put something on that when you get home.” “Yeah, that’s the plan.”

They smiled, small and lopsided. Spider finally began to relax.

Tsu’tey stepped further from Quaritch’s body. Absently, he flicked the blood off his blade before sheathing it. 

His eyes never strayed from the sight of his mate and son, finally reuniting and talking after so many years. The sight warmed him. Soothing something that had been left ragged and raw since carving their name into the cliff face of the Well of Souls. 

Running a tired hand down the side of his face, Tsu’tey glanced down at the flaking white paint the movement had rubbed off of his skin. Thoughtfully, he rubbed his fingers together, watching the flakes crumble into small, almost unnoticeable pieces. Perhaps, he thought, there was no longer a reason for him to renew it.

He smiled to himself, reaching up and rubbing away the itching paint with his hand, so that the normally pristine line broke and wavered. Tsu’tey watched the flakes rain down past his eyes as snow would fall in the colder regions. And he felt content. 

When he got the worst of it off, he lifted his head, only to find Neytiri already watching him. Her smile could only have been described as proud and full of unspoken understanding. Somehow, Tsu’tey knew she had come to the same conclusion as him, and would allow him to take the lead moving forwards. Tsu’tey dipped his head in thanks, to which the huntress nodded once, her expression oozing pride. 

It was then Tsu’tey steeled himself and approached his reunited family.

The moment his shadow fell over them, the recom was tense again. Snapping their head up, they promptly ripped themselves away from Spider at the sight of him. 

“Don’t!” They snarled, jabbing a hand in his direction as they bum shuffled away from him. Their shaking hand slipping and sliding over the moss in an attempt to put some distance between them. “I’m leaving! I promise I’m leaving! You won’t ever find me here again!” They swallowed loudly, “I just got ambushed! But I’m going now! You’ll never see me again!”

Spider stared after them, looking torn between offering reassurance and looking up at his Dad pleadingly. With a sigh, Tsu’tey spared his son an encouraging look before slowly following the panicking recom.

His heart broke a little as he looked down at them now, the words having escaped him, again. As he had in Tsaheylu, Tsu’tey made a show of lifting his hands to show they were free of weapons. The recom flinched, only to let out a groan of pain. It appeared that their earlier adrenaline was beginning to fade.

Tsu’tey smiled sadly, stepping closer. The recom hissed at him, their scrambling hands suddenly finding a utility knife concealed in the moss, which they rapidly brought up between them. The blade danced as it was held aloft, aiming at Tsu’tey’s heart. 

“I’m going.” They promised him.

Tsu’tey huffed softly. Slowly, and with great care, he caught their raised wrist. They jumped so hard that they lost their grip on the knife, which Tsu’tey promptly caught in his other hand before it could impale them through the leg.

The recom somehow stiffened more, eyes glued to the weapon in his hand. 

“Tsu’tey.” They plead quietly.

He lowered his knife hand before throwing the blasted weapon away and into the moss.

“That was a stupid, <i>stupid</i> plan.” He told them simply as he released their raised hand and stepped back. 

“Well it worked, didn’t it”? They snapped back defensively, only to flinch at their own tone. “Sorry. It’s been a really long day.”

Tsu’tey nodded. “Then you should return with us to High Camp and rest.”

“What?”

“It is too dangerous for you to remain here.” 

They were staring at him blankly. As if he were some confusing puzzle.

“I mean-”

“It is decided.” Tsu’tey cut in, before turning on his heel and shooting Spider a nod. His son lit up. 

<”You mean it?”> <”Yes.”> Tsu’tey confirmed, lightly ruffling his son’s hair on his way past. <”Get them on someone’s ikran and then meet me back here.”> <”Thank you! Thank you, Dad! You won’t regret this!”> Spider exclaimed, giving him a tight, grateful hug. Tsu’tey felt inclined to agree with him, as he watched his son dart away to help the stunned recom to their feet, already nattering on about this or that.

He smiled. Feeling lighter than he had in years. 

Last Chapter <- Part 4 -> Next Chapter

[fl3shm4id3n]

ₖᵢₗₗ Bᵢₗₗ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐱. 𝐀𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: (ᴘᴀꜱᴛ) ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ! ᴊᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴜʟʟʏ x ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ! ᴡɪꜰᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ɪᴍᴘʟɪᴇᴅ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴏɴɢ: ꜱᴢᴀ- ᴋɪʟʟ ʙɪʟʟ

TW: angst, breakup/divorce, deja blu, past war, mentions of terrorism, implied torture

Masterlist

You and your husband were sent to Pandora for two reasons, one was because you were offered a job in another planet and two because your husband was the replacement of your brother in law. At first everything was alright, you were placed in Quaritch team while your husband did what Tommy was suppose to do.

Due to work you barely saw each other, but on the days that you were on break. You'd spend as much time you did together, you'd talk about your days and how things were. Jake had seemed to really enjoy his time in the forest with the native's. He really wanted to bring you that you could meet his friends, specially Neytiri, he talked a lot about her. You didn't see any red flags, you weren't the jealous type.

When you had found out about what Jake was doing, you couldn't believe it. The other day he had talked to you about your plans for the future, now he was being imprisoned for crossing the line. When you found out about his intimacy with his 'friend' you had lost it. "So you basically cheated on me?" you asked, tears developing in your eyes. Jake hung his head in shame, he knew what he did was fucked up, he should of told you something instead of doing the most dumbest thing. "Yes.." he admitted. You looked at him in disbelief. "So, what you told me the other day meant nothing to you?" you asked him. He looked back at you. He hated seen you cry, specially since he was the reason you were crying. He sighed, he knew he couldn't fix it anymore, he just admitted what he did. "I know what I did was wrong, I should of told you instead of doing what I did." He explained. "Oh, like that makes it better." You said, rubbing your face with your hands.

That was the last time you saw him, he was then put under custody with Grace and Norm, but took off with the help of Trudy and Max. As much as you didn't want Jake to get hurt in this now war. You had no other choice but to follow orders, you had a feeling that no one was coming out of this war alive. While you flew one of the scorpions assigned to you, the last thing you saw was a giant blue native shooting his arrow right at you. Hitting you right in the chest with his arrow. Killing you instantly.

15 ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ

When you had woken, you didn't know whether to freak out or be glad to be alive. Once you got a look at yourself you couldn't believe your eyes. You were an avatar, this new body looked so much like you as a human. Your facial features didn't really change except for your big yellow eyes, feline like nose, canines and pointy ears. It felt strange, this body felt strange. You were reunited with your team, apparently your team go revived from a project known as Project Phoenix. It was strange.

You were called in for a team meeting, you felt somewhat happy seen Colonel Quaritch for some reason. He was a good friend of your back when you were alive and human. It brought you some kind of happiness when you were around him. As he explained the mission, your face was sour almost the whole time. Every time your ex name came out of Quaritch mouth made you almost growl and your tail moving slow side to side. You wanted to kill him so bad, but you couldn't. You had to sadly bring him to the RDA so that he could gest questioned for his actions. He was considered a terrorist to the RDA, since he kept intervining with their plans.

The whole ride to Bridgehead, you had been thinking of Jake. The good memories you shared with him. From when you met in the military and when you both got married. You still remembered how he insisted that you should be with someone else and not with a cripple. You never cared that he was bond to a wheelchair as a human, you loved him regardless. That was in the past now. You were surprise that your new body had your old memories, at least what you assumed were your memories.

While the Miles and Lyle had gone to meet with the boss, you and your group were taken to where you'd be basically living in. It was very similar to a military base. You were in a small room, which was your own room. You had been giving a box, it was almost like a present. Inside contained a Katana. The sword was huge, much bigger then your previous one. You knew your way around Martial Arts and Touch of death, but you also knew how to wield a samurai sword. The more you looked at the sword, the more you saw your human eyes look back at you.

Someone had then knocked at your door. "Come in" you said, putting your sword back in its quiver. It was your boss who had come in. You stood up from your bed out of respect. "Have a seat, I'd like to have a small chat with you." He sad, you followed orders and sat down. He got the chair that was on the small wall desk and sat on it. "So corporal, how does it feel about having to go after your husband." He said with a smirk. That made you scrunch up your nose and send a glare. "That bastard isn't my husband.." you mumbled. Miles chuckled. "I know how you feel. You got her memories." He was referring to your human self.

"Guess so." You said. "You know, I know that you want to kill him, after all. He did have an affair with that.. woman." He brought up, this made you a bit more angry, but you stayed calm, at least you tried. "I'd let you kill him, shit, I'd even help you hide the body." He said, this comment made you raise your brows. "But we got to follow orders, our job is to bring his wanna be native ass back here, if we do. I could let you give him a couple punches and such, ya know." He said. He must have been implying that he was allowing you have your way with Jake. "But what if-" you were cut off. "They're not gonna care what we do with him, we just. Have to keep him alive and make him talk. Don't matter how we do it, we just need him to sing like a canary." He said. The more you listened, the more you were liking it. You did want to cause Jake some pain, the same pain that he made you feel when you found out about his affair. "I like the sound of that." You said with a small smirk. "Glad we're on the same page." He replied with a toothy grin. That was now your plan, bring your Ex to the RDA and the rest is up to you to do. You may not kill him in the moment, but maybe you can kill him slowy.

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

Bubble baths

Sort of a continuation of this lyle fic, but recom now! (Mainly a surprise gift for @thevanityofthefox)

Sequel to

Summary: Recom!Lyle is a little body conscious but decides to share a bubble bath with his partner!

Warnings: Sexual content, smut, na'vi gentles differences (Will link the post if I find it but picture that scene from the shape of water)

Of all the team Lyle found himself adjusting the easiest. Miles brooded, Mansk was grumpier than normal and even Lopez wasn't up to joke around. He felt Walker and Zdog at least had more of an excuse, their biology was the most altered.

Although at least they still looked themselves downstairs. Lyle grumbled at the ken doll look he sported in the mirror. The lab coats had given them a very amusing sex ed lesson. One they could barely get through from the laughter of their audience.

He was still there, just tucked up and hidden. Suppose that explained the loin cloths their enemies wore, nothing to hide. Well not entirely true, the human DNA left him still with his happy trail.

He'd avoided being intimate with you since he'd returned. You were keen no question but he just wasn't comfortable yet. Angel you were you'd backed down, being extremely affectionate without pushing it.

It was incredibly frustrating. Of course you had no idea how bad he wanted you, innocently pecking his cheek, sharing his bed, cuddling. All perfectly tame behavior, it was Lyle's mind that kept dwelling on your touch. The feel of your hands on him, your soft flesh squishing against him under the covers.

You'd been enjoying the new facilities. Lyle's room was even bigger now at Bridgehead. Large soft bed, windows, a desk big enough for both of you and the en suite. This new bathroom had you giddy, jumping in place and holding his arm.

It was pretty nice, even he had to admit it. Walk in shower, large sink, lots of surface space and the centerpiece, a huge bath tub. This truly was massive, easily five times the size of any he'd seen before. Though with his new body it had to be. Even so he'd probably still have to raise his knees to fit but the water could go up to his chest.

He'd not been in yet. He'd joked you were never out of it to the others. Prager smiling cheekily at him from across the table.

"You could join them!" He smirked, jabbing Walker beside him.

"You better or I will!" Ja clapped his shoulder taking a seat beside him. Lyle feigned jealousy, demanding a duel for your honour. It didn't bother him, their jokes were just that and he trusted you more than anyone.

It was in that spirit he entered your shared room. The tell tale light and steam coming from the bathroom. He was being silly, he knew it. You wouldn't shame him for his new form, it was his problem and he wanted to deal with it.

He entered the room, removing his shirt and tossing it to the bed. He'd been in plenty of times while you'd bathed or showered now. There was no shyness left in you as you grinned from the tub.

"Dinner good?" You hummed, your eyes slipping closed again. You'd even lit some scented candles he'd found for you. Hell he should have got some rose petals! You looked beautiful in the bubbles, skin glowing in the dim flames.

"Mhm, nothing beats grubs and roots." He joked, new diet had been hard to adjust to. He stood at the mirror above the sink, stalling a moment. He heard you shift in the water behind him, glancing at your reflection. You moved to the edge closest to him, gazing up his bare back.

He took a deep breath, unbuckling his belt. The seconds dragged on in to infinity, it felt torturous. He watched your gaze linger on his figure, drinking in his muscled back. He remembered your first night on the base, you fingers lazily tracing his glowing freckles in the dark. His throat tightened as he unzipped his trousers, letting them fall and kicking them away.

"Mind if I join you?" He called over his shoulder, his voice calmer than he felt. His heart fluttered at your spreading grin, exited to be close to him.

"Sure!" You chirped, "Big spoon or little?" you added. It'd been a joke at first but he'd come to really enjoy being little spoon at night. Your frame wrapping around him, tucking his head to your chest, legs around his slim waist.

"Little." he decided. If he was gonna do this he wanted to relax. He heard the squeak as you shifted back to the other end of the tub. With one last gulp he dropped his pants.

There was no reaction, of course not, you'd been well aware of na'vi biology before he had. You just smiled up at him before reaching grabbing hands to him. He chuckled, stepping into the warm water and leaning back against you.

It was heavenly, the gentle scent on the bubbles and candles, the warmth of the water seeping into his skin and you hands. You rubbed bubbles up his arms, stopping to knead into the muscle of his neck. He groaned, letting the tension drift out with the sound. His tail shifted uncomfortable before he moved it to curl around your waist.

He felt you legs on either side of his own clench together slightly before your hands continued to his scalp. You rubbed the skin as Lyle relaxed further, slipping down your chest a little. He felt amazing, cursing himself for not enjoying this luxury sooner. When your massage ended your hands slipped forward to rest on his chest, giving his peck a playful squeeze.

He laughed a little, before he felt you kiss against his neck. It was just a peck, you weren't pushing things but oh what it did to him. He let his hand glide down your thigh, feeling your breath hitch behind him. One thing was glad for now, was that he could literally smell your arousal. Even past the soap and candles your scent was the sweetest thing.

Lyle sat up twisting to rest his back on the other side of the tub. He smirked across at you, now able to see the blush tipping your ears. He reached his hands out, beckoning you to join him. You rose to your knees, giving Lyle a good show of your chest. Water and soap tracing down your form as he stared, desperate to engrave the sight into his mind.

You took his arms, Lyle tugging you to him. The water sloshed, spilling out onto the tiles. Neither of you could find it in yourselves to care for a little mess right now. Both caught so strongly by the others gaze. Now closer you shifted up, climbing into Lyle's lap.

He felt his core twitch, an aching in him stronger than he'd ever felt. A drive to be closer, his tail reacting on its own, wrapping round your thigh. He trailed his hands up your spine, your body arching against his own. Closer, he needed to be closer.

Your hands cupped his cheeks, silent question hanging between you both. You were too sweet, still waiting to be sure he was ready. Lyle answered with a kiss, heated and greedy.

His hands tangling into your hair, tilting your head to deepen the connection. He nipped gently at your lips, weary of fangs before trailing his kiss to your jaw. He felt your hands gripping his shoulders, your hip now grinding down against him.

He muffled his moans into your neck, sucking and nipping where your scent grew stronger. Your whimpers above him were driving him wild. His hips bucked up against yours desperate for friction.

Lyle let a hand slip down, grazing against your hardened nipple on his way down. You whined, body so sensitive under his touch. Maybe from the weeks without his attention or maybe just your own changes. Whatever it was it didn't matter, it drove him feral to hear your reactions.

He tipped you back to mouth at your chest, while his hand slipped between you both. You moaned out his name, Lyle's ears flicking at the wanton sound, focusing forward desperate for more.

He rubbed languid circles against you, savoring the way you tensed and writhed. Your nails digging into his arms, even the sting was exquisite. He felt his own need growing, desperate for more. The driving need to be closer still.

He reached to his own, feeling the hardened tip pocking there, the need almost painful. He pressed in and up under it, the strange new sensation making his eyes roll back. He unfurled, his hard cock bouncing up against you.

He tipped his head to meet your gaze. Your hooded eyes staring down only looked hungry. Your hand slipping bellow the water to curl around him. Lyle sucked air in through his teeth at your touch, hands darting to the tubs sides for support.

You gently explored his length, excited by the feeling of hard ridges, wondering just how magnificent he'll look out of the obscuring water. You rose, hand aligning him to your entrance before locking eyes again.

Lyle's pupils were blow, almost black in the dim light. His mouth slack as he took in the sight. You sat, sliding down his length in one motion, keening at the sudden stretch. Still it was worth it for the sound Lyle made, an animalistic growl that set your hairs on end. His hand gripping your hips to grind you against him.

You rose again, slapping back down, Lyle grunting and bucking with you. His head diving down to your throat again latching on as you road him. You were sure you were covered in love bites but you couldn't care. Your need driving your hips deeper down, grinding after your own high.

He could feel you getting close, the fluttering walls tightening against him driving him deeper. His hand slipped back down, needing to add more sensation, craving your release around him. You chanted his name in his ear, unable to form any other word past the moans.

He was edging closer himself, keeping pace despite the dizzying pleasure. Just a little longer, he needed to hear you first, need to feel it.

Your orgasm crashed against you, crying out as waves of it coursed through you, gripping onto Lyle. He was barely a second behind, the sudden rush of warmth, the tight spasm, your voice, it was all too much. You road out your high, stilling against his stuttering hips as it passed.

Both your chests heaved in rhythm together. Lyle whispered praises against your skin, leaving open mouthed kisses up until he reached your lips.

He kissed you gently, hands stroking your hair delicately before pulling away to admire your blissed out expression. He kissed the tip of your nose, watching your eyes refocus and letting out a giggle. The movement making him twitch inside you.

"Again?" Your eyes widened, a small smiles spreading across your swollen lips. Lyle leaned in to kiss you again, sure he'd never want to stop.

[plzfeedmebread]

how would the recoms react to their fem recom s/o wanting them to ✨️casually✨️ rub their clit that leads to maybe some mutual touching/masturbation 👀

Hello! Yes, I'll be posting oneshots based on this prompt! Will do one for Miles, Lyle, Mansk, and ZDog! Miles' will be posted shorty!

*update* - First one posted! Will add links here as the fics are published!

Miles Quaritch

Lyle Wainfleet

Mansk

ZDog

[fluorynn]

〴 🔗 — ᴀ ᴛɪɴʏ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ ɴᴏᴡ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ’ᴅ ʏᴀ ꜱᴀʏ?

〴 ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ : recom!miles quaritch ✘ fem!reader

〴 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ : 4.3k

〴 ɢᴇɴʀᴇ / ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : SMUT, no plot, Quaritch got a breeding kink, masturbation with an audience, teasing, vaginal sex, mentions of oral sex, choking? ( Quaritch receiving it, I am FERAL when it comes to those dog tags of his—) unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, explicit language

〴 ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀꜱ ʙʏ : @cafekitsune !!!

〴 a/n : Well… this is unexplainable, lol. One of my first times writing smut for Quaritch — for any big blue alien, lol🥲 Imma admit, I didn’t see him in this way at the beginning but the more I watched the movie, the more I realized he had no right being this FINE😭 anyways, im getting this out the way so I can continue with Neteyam’s series !!! Enjoy !!! <33

“Darlin’, jus’ move yer hand f’me. C’mon—”

The rather swollen lower lip of Quaritch’s lolled once more between his teeth. The corners of his mouth had elevated into a smirk. One that brought a prominent twinkle to his gold hues, one that clashed with the silver around his neck, dog tags dangling across his chiseled pecs down to the planes of his stomach. Of course, the breathing mask was also dangling his neck, but it seemed to be long forgotten by the recom with every breath he stole from you.

Constricting was the word to describe his lengthy abdomen, for the way he restrained himself with his entire abnormal strength from plunging forward into your tiny entrance, and the assistance of the small facility’s dim lights and perspiration coating his azure tones sent another jolt down to your stomach.

“M-Miles, baby, it’s not gonna go in—”

A ‘tsk’ hissed from between his teeth, lips puckering in that feigning disappointing manner, and a deep exhale emerged from you. The pink flesh of your walls fluttered around the imperceptible even though Quaritch’s plump, softly glowing tip stroked at your entrance, your small hands applying the slightest of pressure to his lower stomach. 

His head couldn’t help but tilt in wonder while a dimple showed between his brows. Really, he could just ignore your commentary, ignore the way the small length of your fingers pushed at his lower stomach in order to keep him from moving forward and use his much stronger force. But how could he ignore that cute panic striking your eyes? He couldn’t be that harsh with you.

So instead, the large expanse of his thumb reached to gently push your jaw up to look at him. “ ‘T’s always the same thing with you, cupcake. Sayin’ it won’t go in, and yet ev’ry time, it does.”

Another lustful glaze of honey spiraled over his irises, making their shade darker, sponging those now dilating pupils of his as he glanced down your bare body and disheveled attire. His stupidly large hands and sharp canines had torn it to pieces, until your breasts were liberated and your weeping hole clenched from the cool air.

Your round eyes couldn’t evict from analyzing every tiny detail of his breathtaking face; at the way those lines upon his forehead wrinkled with his stifled grunts, how his brow quirked as his golden gaze devoured your every curve, at how his smiling mouth was moistened with your essence and was a reminder to how mere seconds ago, that feline-like tongue of his was between your legs, deliriously assaulting your clit, that Cheshire Cat smile sprawled across his face as he looked up at your crumbled expression.

The luminous freckles across his cheeks and flat nose were shining even more with his sweat and your slick, and the ones trailing down the lean length of his body glittered and entranced you. 

His features were sinister, lips curling over his teeth while the rest remained hard. “I won’t repeat myself, cupcake; move. Your. Hand.” His honed incisors found their spot below your jawline, finding the faint puncture they’d left minutes ago and enhanced the mark once more as they sank in.

That was when your jaw went slack, lips shaping a pretty ‘O’ while the smallness of your palms pressed over the nape of his damp neck, fingers winding over the curve of his head.

Quaritch inundated every one of your senses; his scent wavered your atmosphere, his ridiculously long frame lumbering and hiding your petite one from any other’s vision, the coolness of his dog tags grazing the sensitive flesh of your breasts and equally as biting as the way his canines did. 

Heat liquified through your entire body, walls elongating beyond constructing capacity the second your cunt consumed him entirely.  “F-fuck—”

Quaritch thrusted forward, half of his widthful cock disappearing between your legs, and the tiny bed below created a screeching creak from the act. A dribble of sweat shun between his brows as he grunted a low cuss word, teeth grinding together at the way your little cunt tightened around him.

“ almos’ ‘ere, doll, almos’ ‘ere.” he crooned, thumb rising to stroke the damp locks over your temple, eliciting a muffled whimper from your throat.

Inhaling another sharp breath, glowing orbs peered into yours and with a small bob of your head, the other half of his shaft soon followed until his pelvis hovered over yours. All 10 plus inches stretching you out. Those eyes of his were blown out now as he stared down, being met with a subtle, so very subtle curve shadowing the flesh of your upper stomach — not only his eyes were abroad but so was that smirk of his as his hand went over the expanse of your belly, the outer shape of his cock, calloused fingertips grazing over the swollen flesh. 

“Well, wouldja look at that beauty…ain’t it, darlin’?”

 Ever so lightly he pushed down, and when he did, whine after whine flew up your lungs. He didn’t dare to move though, not until you gave him the green signal that he could, giving you time to modify and gain control of your inhales and exhales.

Quaritch was no better though, not while he stroked the bulge within your lower abdomen, not while you tried pulling him even closer, sputtering out a low chuckle and jittered breath before raising his mask to take another deep and long inhale. “ ‘N here ya thought it wouldn’t go in—���

He was cut off by the way your dainty hand winded around the loose silver drooping across his chest, wrapping it tightly around each length of your fingers until inches away from the base of his throat. His eyes widened at the sight of yours; round, devoured with lust. “Fuck me, Quaritch.”

His rasped chuckle pulsated through your insides, and a low groan erupted past his mouth when you squeezed around him as the octave of his mocking laughter picked within the deepest parts of you. “Patience, darlin’. Don’t wanna ruin little you if ya don’t give both of us a minute—” 

His voice faded amongst the thick air, words caught in his throat with every twist and wind his dog tags made, clinking faintly against the other as your knuckles were practically burying against the blue flesh of his throat, nearly leaving no passage for air to transmit through.

 “Ruin me.”

“Well ain’t ya a pretty brat—”

You huffed, hands releasing his necklace and pushed him away. This caused Quaritch to stumble and lose his balance, knees digging into the delicate mattress and hoisting himself up as you slid away from him, tight cunt releasing him with a wet pop that made the both of you moan out loud. He was about to protest as to why you moved, why you turned away from him but all he could do was let his eyes follow the way you got on your knees, follow the way the pretty arch of your back descended down to the curve of your ass; so round, so fucking eye capturing and mouth watering that he has to restrain himself from craning forward to take a sharp bite.

You felt him watching, felt the way those amber irises flickered into specks that soon flowed through you, gathering and igniting down your body and between your thighs as they rubbed together to add friction to the burn. Reaching next to the bedside, you had to prop yourself on your forearms in order to grab what you desired, leaving your whole ass up in the air and in perfect display for the avatar. 

Ears chirped high, tail lashing in anticipation the more you arched, abdomen pressed into the white sheets. His palm had slithered down his stomach, fingers wrapping themselves around his cock and tightening at the base when your adorable fingers reached back and parted the globes of your ass, parting them so fucking prettily until both your holes were calling out to him.

“Ruin me, Quaritch.” 

“I’ll be damned…” Lithe and swift was his movement as he rose up, and even on his knees his large body still lurched over you when he scooted closer, not caring for the bed’s possible break and the sound of his palm meeting your ass blocked out the creaking.

“Whatever occurred to ‘won’t go in’, huh?” He taunted you, yet you had felt him align himself once more, tip kissing your awaiting hole. He couldn’t help but slip in just an inch for the way you were drenched. Slick were your puffy lips, cascading down the inner angles of your thighs. Quaritch thought a little teasing never hurt anyone, so he was quick to slide out as soon as he slid in.

Desperate little thing you were, squirming and winding your hips back for his touch, the inhuman blaze of his body mingling with yours. You couldn’t help but whine at the way his fat tip did nothing more than graze along your pussy lips, teasing right over your clit.

It hurt , it ached terribly, the sexual frustration that consumed you.  “Miles,” you muttered, the call of his name ending with a whine when a single digit of his — not enough to occupy the space of his cock but lengthy enough to stretch you completely out — swirled in, the pad rubbing over your adhesive, soft walls.  “Somethin’ wrong, doll?”

His arrogant voice would’ve conflicted you if it weren’t for the way his accent thickened. He took pleasure in this, smug in the way your walls became one with his thick finger, watching the way you fell apart for him; wearily moaning, pussy drooling with no shame. Not a proper fuck yet and here you were, small silhouette disintegrating amongst his touch.

The very touch of his within you that soon turned into two fingers, slow at sliding in and out with the assistance of his dick.

“Quaritch. Enough with the games.”

Nothing but another chuckle huffed out, amused at the way you moved, already scheming and toy with your pretty pussy for as long as he wanted, and you caught onto this. Screw his damn schemes.

His mouth pursed in distaste at the way you perched forward and away from his shining tip. But all he could do was roll his broad shoulder back as he tried peering at what it was that you were doing, with his throbbing cock in his hold. 

His head slightly inclined to the side as he watched something come into your hold. “Whacha got there, sweetheart?”

You disregarded his question and turned over, back beautifully curling against the bedsheets and legs bent to the air, parting as far as they would allow you to. Quaritch’s nose sharply inhaled, throat being greeted with every droplet of drool collecting in his mouth at the sight of you; the pillar of your throat exposing the blemished flesh there ( thanks to his truly), head tossed back with your face tilted to the ceiling yet eyes hidden beneath closed lids. The room’s small scale of space only lets the sounds of your breathing enter its atmosphere.

Until the hum of the vibrating device in your hands was featured. Quaritch’s attention was punctured to it, allured to the way you slowly brought it lower with each second.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were ya—”

Oh but he wasn’t. And you would. Quaritch — knelt on your bed that nearly met its breaking point — was disposed of all for a cruddy toy that’s mushed up against your clit.

“S-shit— oh!”

The merciless celerity muggled the liquid pouring from your cunt, seeping through every direction and Quaritch watched in awe at the way it all came into little crystalline spheres, trickling down and pooling into an entire puddle within the disheveled sheets.

This is what you wanted from him, what you needed from him; to give you the immense pleasure this silly toy was providing for you. Yet you had to admit it was enjoyable, the way Quaritch’s sharp gaze stayed fixated on your abused clit, a twitch of his eye giving you the satisfaction that he desired to be the one making you feel this good. He desired to be the one you crumbled apart for; the one that precious pussy got demolished to. But he knew forbearance was never an easy task for you, or better yet he should know this. You weren’t in it for his foolish games at the moment.

“Desperate little thing ya are, eh?”

A coherent rejoin spewed from your lips, no sense to your words whatsoever and this made him grin widely. The bed screeched once more, this time with Quaritch’s back flat against the wall but not before bringing the delicacy of his queue over his shoulder while one of his long arms extended out and lifted your body with lithe, placing you over his upper leg, and you could feel the hardness of his cock, pushing and rubbing against the length of your spine.

Your thighs were dangerously apart from one another thanks to the firm stretch of his large thigh, repelling you from pulling away from him as the pressure of the quivers into your pulsing bud augmented when his palm, forceful and large, enveloped your much smaller one and applied pressure there.

“M-Miles, baby, w-wai—”

His chuckle reverberated within your flesh, adding onto your helpless attempt to moan out a plea. “Nah, darlin’. If ye’re that desperate for it, lemme help ya out then.”

The pressure accelerating working your lower belly was beyond ferocious, and Quaritch knew this rather quickly. He knew this for the way his ears flitted at the sound of your jumbled heartbeat and pitch of your slurs, the way his free hand engulfed your entire hip as he tugged you closer, the way he picked up the intoxicating scent of you increasing, the way he had pushed you forward and plunged one, then two thick fingers deep into your cunt and you squeezed deliciously around them, pushing you close to the edge and into the pools of ecstasy. 

The adaptedness of his finger pads covered and smoothed perfectly over the mushy parts of your walls. “ ‘Atta girl, that’s it—” His gravel-like voice grazed into your breathless and sharp exhales.

“I-I’m—Miles—”

An ignition flared in Quaritch’s core, with you so fucking pressed up against him, at the knowledge of you near in becoming undone all over his hand, just for him. The more his fingers thrusted in while the flat of his palm pushed the toy deeper, the more cum oozed out; sticky and translucent lot cohereting against his blue skin and a wide smirk morphed his features, waiting to get a taste.

“Ya near, cupcake?” You chin pushed into your chest, jaw quivering as the words whined out: “Uh-huh, I-I’m close—”

“Gonna make a bigger mess f’me?”

“Y-yes—” Quaritch withdrew his hand from applying pressure and led yours — still clutching the vibrator to your pulsing clit — just right above your lower belly, right near your pelvis area. This emitted an increase of the drizzle that was already scurrying around his fingers and absorbed into the bedsheets and his outstretched leg, until its splotching sounds had clashed with the octaves of your moans.

His hand was unrelenting though, still spurting in with the same merciless force he owned despite you already reaching your peak. “Q-Quaritch, oh my— shit!”

“I gotcha, sweetheart,” he purred into your ear, the pink of his nose nuzzling over the soft skin behind. “Let it out, c’mon, let it all out f’r me.”

The immense ecstasy you had felt slowly eased, bringing you down to Pandora’s surface. The pace of his fingers settled for a slow, sensual one and they jittered slightly within you when your damp cheek fell over his flexing forearm. “That was nice,” you breathed out, peering back at him with that lovely grin of yours that he too returned.

He pulled his digits out, groaning lowly at the squelching sound your cunt created when he did. Though they were quick to latch onto the flesh of your thighs, lifting you in the air until you were pressed down against and facing him. Those supple lips of yours parted in astonishment at the way his damn dick tumescences, cushioned tip shining with the opalescent glow of his precum, sprinkled with the twinkle of his star like freckles. It was unfair how pretty it was, how pretty his entire existence was. And Quaritch knew this, his mind had grown into this form, and he knew the way it affected you by the way he grinned with pride when your lower lip protruded.

“You’d be doing us a pleasure in givin’ us a turn, sweetheart.” With a tap of his tip on your tummy, both of your hands reached behind to support your weight on his thighs as you lifted yourself up for it to bury itself in you without any trouble, your cum functioning as lubricant as you settled down halfway down.

Your whimpered “yes” was all he needed to proceed, and the length of fingers wounded over your hip, practically splaying across your back while his thumb pressed below your belly button as he slowly pushed you much further down, watching as his cock awaited filled you, twitching to deeply fill your womb with his cum.

He didn’t mind the idea, he was actually curious to see a Tiny Miles Quaritch or… what would be a good way to name the girl? — if the little plum came out blue and chubby or the peach came out neutral and gorgeous like their mama, running around, wanting to test the waters in getting you round and swollen while carrying his inhuman DNA more than one time. The thought made him spasm as he stretched you out with his entire length, until you were flushed against his pelvis.

“Oh hell,” he gritted out, watching the way your eyes peered down at his constricting torso. “Perfectly tight as always…”

Vehement he was when it came to sex, and every time, with every touch and utter, you mollified for him. Clearly, this time was no different; the feel of Quaritch tumescending in you, his dick embedded within your stomach, all the reason to bring you close once again. “M-miles, oh my god—”

“Permission to move, doll?” The frantic bobs of your head gave him the opportunity to refresh some manners in that pretty head of yours. Teeth, deadly and predatorial, excavated into the interstice where the graceful line of your neck ranged and became shoulder. He didn’t release until the tang of iron became one with his taste buds, the rough surface of his tongue wasting no time in lapping the trickle of scarlet leaving your abused skin.

A hiss whispered from your lungs, and he soon managed to sweetly stroke his wet muscle over the pain he had caused until it was nothing but pleasure. The corner of your mouth hoisted when the flexible extension of his tail coiled around your thigh, wisps of dark hair skimming across your inner thigh.

“How cute…”

“Those ain’t the words I’m waiting for, doll face.” He growled out, and you reached out to very lightly tug on his queue. “Dammit, Quaritch!—”

“ ‘Dammit, Quaritch’ ain’t the statement I was lookin’ for, now I—”

His sentence didn’t finish its near end for your palms had reached behind and planted themselves on his thighs, hips giving a slow roll before lifting your body up until the thick tip of it remained slightly in and slammed back down with a throaty moan.

His back pushed against the wall, putting the mask over his flat nose and mouth once more, and you could see the way his sly grin grew behind the fog his sharp breaths created in the mask before letting it dangle once more across his chest, bracing himself for the next of your moves.

One turned into two, two into three surprisingly hard claps your ass gave with his cock nuzzled tightly and further within your womb with each bounce, each stretch. “F-fuck, Miles, fuck me, please!” You beseeched, you whined, not caring anymore to contain yourself.

Quaritch huffed out a chuckle, a single large hand reaching over to encase both your tiny wrists, practically your forearms in the curl of his fingers and mushed them against your breasts, and his back pushed off from the wall so his other arm could curl around your entire midsection. You had no other option but to surrender full control over to the colonel without a single complaint or shift of movement, leaving it all to him.

“As you please, cupcake,” are the last words uttered before he lifted your body off his cock, only to ram you down with much more verve. He continued until the choir of huffs, moans and whimpers featured with skin plastered and slammed against one another recapitulated within the small room, the most probable outcome being that the other recom avatars and scientists could hear what was going on.

A pearlescent circlet scintillated at the base of Quaritch’s dick, disseminating over the blue tones of his shaft with every rise and fall your pussy gave him. “F-fuck, Miles, fuck, Miles….” was dragged from your hoarse throat, revealing the pretty column of it with the head tilt you gave until an ache came upon your shoulders.

“Damn, darlin’,” his voice gruffed out, vocal cords tight and visible around the muscles of his neck as every single fiber of his body tightened as well as he contained the orgasm his lower belly implored to fully release past his aching tip.

Taking advantage of the hold he had around your wrists, he tugged you forward until you sprawled over his abdomen, the pads of his thumbs rubbing soft circles over your chin and lower lip. “Y’keep squeezing around me like this, pretty thing, don’t know if I can hol’ it—”

“ ‘m sorry, M-Miles, c-can’t help it—”

Trembling, overwhelmed, and close you were to be ruined once more atop of Quaritch. Your thighs and his tail was coated with sweat and your cum that splotched with every pull down and every snap his hips gave. “D-don’t think I can keep it in, don’t think I can keep myself from cummin’ in ya—”

He had slightly pushed you back and brought your sore arms over your head, tears pearling your waterline and lashes as you both peered down between your legs; how his pretty dick disappeared and half of it would reappear once again with the slight protuberance of your belly, the thick and glowing veins accentuating his striped shaft curling inside of you in the most exhilarating and immoral way.

“N-no, please cum in me— d-don’t pull out, d-don’t hold it—”

Quaritch’s brows had pinched together, an affliction being the cause of their shape as his remorseless thrusts had settled for a slower pace, though the force did not go unrelented, and though it brought a scorching pain to settle deep within your bones and muscles, you didn’t regret it whatsoever.

“Words like that are dangerous now. Y’really want me to fill ya up, doll, with the possibility of you gettin’ pregnant?” He brought your forearms back over your chest, pressing them further in as the arm currently around you pulled away, his palm being splayed out and pushing against the small of your back until your body shaped a lovely arch; and he grinned at the fact that you let him bend you to his will.

Uncoordinated syllables spewed from your tongue, unknown to anyone else besides Quaritch for he’s seen you in this state more times than he could ever count. “Hm hmm, get me pregnant, M-Miles—”

Lax colored eyes gained another coating of color as his grin outstretched his entire face. “Hm, really?” His back hunched off the wall until his mouth hovered over your tilted down chin, palm applying more pressure to the lower column of your spine, swirling you over his dick as your whines increased in pitch. “Want a blue fleshed baby in ya? A babe that carries my genes?”

A long groan followed down the length of his throat at the narrow clench your walls gave him from his words, and you could feel every spasm his dick created in your stomach. You could feel the ooze pooling within you, knowing his restraints had been broken as Quaritch’s dick already exuded.

“A pretty baby that looks like their mama?” He grunted out, almost as if the thought excited and pained him all at once, to see a little one portraying the exactness of your lovely features.

“ Do it, Colonel. Fill me up.”

All Quaritch needed was your verbal assent, and with that, not even a second later, the coiling band within his lower stomach finally snapped, emptying his entire load in your pussy, giving into your words. Thick and boiling it was, your cunt, your own flowing with it. The increasing pressure of it became too much, pushing your own release afterwards, hybridizing with Quaritch’s cum as it seeped down his cock, still throbbing from the aftershocks within you.

His tight grip relinquished into a soft one around your arms, soon releasing them as he very carefully, very gently brought you to his front until your chin found its spot over his heaving chest, cock still buried deep inside of you, making sure that none of his seed went without purpose.

It was an entire different story when it came to aftercare, how sweet, how soft he was with you; his large palm cradling the curve of your head close while his fingers managed to reach and stroke the damp tendrils of hair pasted to your temples and cheeks, his tail setting for a protective, gentle curl around your leg, his mouth softly falling over your forehead, your cheek, your neck, shoulder, with hushed praises meeting your perspired flesh as well.

You exhaled serenely as you melted into his touch, Quaritch’s other palm flush over the small of your back while his thumb stretched to stroke your belly. Silence lumbered over the two of you, savoring in the feeling and moment until Quaritch’s rasped, accented voice had to cut in.

“A tiny Quaritch now, what’d ya say?”

“Absolutely not naming him Tiny Quaritch.”

“Nickname should be T.Q.”

[7s3ven]

WHY DON’T U LOVE ME? (pt 1) human! miles quaritch

[ masterlist ]

IN WHICH… jake sully becomes too preoccupied with the omatikaya to check up on his daughter. miles quaritch uses it to his advantage, luring you in with sweet words and caging you.

Notes: unstable! jake sully’s daughter! reader, daddy issues, toxic relationship, age gap, pet names (quaritch calls reader princess + sweetheart), manipulation, neglect, bi! reader, a little trudy x r if you squint, angst, LONG one shot, implications of sex, intense make out sessions, reader commits suicide, dark, angst, jake lowkey being a bad father, mental health issues, character death

—

part 1 | part 2

You were the exact opposite of Pandora. With your wide doe eyes and shorter figure, it was a wonder how you had managed to survive the turbulent flight. As you trailed behind Jake, your father, giving his wheelchair a gentle push when needed, various soldiers turned their heads to peer at you.

You didn’t look like a marine. You didn’t even look like a scientist. Instead, you waltzed around in a daze, curious eyes darting to look everywhere. You had no idea where you were heading; you merely followed after Jake.

His heavy bags weighed you down, making every step a struggle. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment as you stumbled, and a group of men loudly snickered.

You held the heavy steel door for your father as he rolled into the large room. Honestly, you had no idea what you were even doing on such a strange planet. All you remembered was that Uncle Tom had been shot, and suddenly, Jake was swept into a mission that wasn’t his—forced to fill his brother’s shoes. Now, here you were, dragged along with him, feeling out of place on a planet that felt far too wild for someone like you.

You were supposed to be buying makeup, drinking, choosing outfits, and crying when dirt got under your nails. Instead, you were stuck on Pandora without any of your ditzy friends, relying on your father to keep you company.

You stared at the Colonel, who stood at the front of the room, his back turned to the new recruits. You slowly sat down on a stiff metal bench, fiddling with your fingers. You glanced at the marine next to you, briefly smiling.

"You are not in Kansas anymore. You are on Pandora, ladies and gentlemen." He turns, and you stiffen, feeling the breath suddenly knock out of your lungs. He was... handsome. His features were rough and rugged, and three long scars dragged through his cropped hair. "Beyond that fence, every living thing that crawls, flies, or squats in the mud wants to kill you and eat your eyes for jujubes." You could hardly hear his low voice, too enamoured by his looks.

"As head of security, it's my job to keep you alive. I will not succeed." He strode down the empty aisle, hands clasped behind his back as he paused. "Not with all of you." Your gaze followed him until he stopped in front of you. You stared up at him through your lashes, lips softly parted.

You could smell the faint scent of his cologne. It overpowered you, flooding your senses. He continued talking, but his words never fully reached your ears. He placed his hands on his hips, his elbow almost whacking you in the face.

"Class dismissed."

You were the first to stand up. The Colonel, out of the corner of his eye, saw you. He turned his head, eyes trailing down your figure. You picked up the last bag before lifting your head, your gaze locking with the Head of Security.

It was a brief moment of eye contact before your father called out your name. "Sorry, sir, excuse me." You brushed past the Colonel, hurrying after Jake.

The corridor was a mess, filled with luggage and crowded with people of all sorts. You squeezed past them all, struggling to breathe in the claustrophobic air.

"Hey! You're Jake, right?!" A scrawny man staggered under the weight of his overpacked duffel bag as he jogged to catch up with you and your father. "Tom's brother? I'm Norm Spellman. I, uh, went through avatar training with him." Norm glanced at you, "And you must be Y/N, right? Tom's daughter, I'm guessing? He talked about you a lot."

"She's mine, actually." Jake interrupted. "My daughter."

Norm's brows raised for a second before he smiled. "Right, of course. Sorry."

Your focus trailed off as Norm and Jake conversed. You merely followed after them. Your eyes widened in awe as you came face to face with Tom's, now Jake's, avatar. It looked just like your Uncle. You pressed a hand against the transparent amino tank, deeply inhaling.

"Grace Augustine is a legend!" Norm exclaimed, unable to contain his excitement. "She's the head of the Avatar Program and wrote the literal book on Pandoran botany."

"So it's like the Pandoran botany bible?" You finally spoke up for the first time since arriving on the alien world. You heard Max, another scientist, let out a quiet snort.

"Yeah, you can say that. She wrote the book because she likes plants better than people." Max said over his shoulder.

You almost jumped in shock when a link compartment door was slammed open with a loud bang. Grace Augustine, a fierce woman, sat up. You watched as she stretched her neck, lowly groaning. "Okay, who's got my damn cigarette?!" She shouted as she stood up.

Grace's eyes were anything but kind as she watched the four of you approach her. She deeply scowled.

"Grace, I'd like you to meet Norm Spellman, Y/N Sully, and Ja"- Max attempted to introduce the three of you, but Grace abruptly cut him off.

"Norm. I hear good things about you. How's your Na'vi?" She practically ignored you and your father, her attention focused solely on the one person who actually belonged on Pandora.

"Grace." Max tried again, "This is Y/N Sully and Jake Sully."

"Yeah, yeah. I know who they are." Her lips curled into a frown as she turned to Jake. "I don't need you. I need your brother. The PhD who trained three years for this mission."

"He's dead, " you said. You had always possessed a sharp tongue, but in situations like these, you really needed to learn to bite your remarks back.

Grace looked even more unimpressed to see you. "This Tom's daughter?"

"Mine." Jake corrected for the second time in an hour.

"Funny. She looks just like Tom."

"What a surprise. It's almost like he was my twin."

Grace huffed in slight amusement. "Whatever. I guess we can use her for... something. A secretary of sorts. Let's hope Quaritch takes a liking to you. Maybe he’ll stop annoying the shit out of me with a new play toy.”

"Hey, no, no. You can't talk about her like that." Jake piped up, "She's a person, not an object."

Grace ignored his jab. "How much lab training have you had?"

"I dissected a frog once in high school chemistry," Jake answered. He glanced at you, "Y/N's better. She won a science award."

"In what, primary school?" Grace sharply retorted, rolling her eyes.

You scoffed under your breath. No, you won the state science competition.

"You see? They're just pissing on us without the courtesy of calling it rain. I'm going to Selfridge." Grace shoved past you, storming down the corridor.

"Parker, I used to think it was benign neglect, but now I see you're intentionally screwing us. I need a research assistant, not some jarhead. " Grace grumbled, furrowing her eyebrows in frustration.

Selfridge merely shrugged as he looked down at his golf ball, gently hitting it towards a cup. Grace kicked it aside, frowning in annoyance. "Actually, I think we got lucky."

Grace scoffed as Selfridge leaned down to retrieve the ball. "Lucky?" She groaned, " How is this in any way lucky?"

"Well, lucky your guy had a twin brother, and lucky the brother wasn't an oral hygienist or something. A Marine we can use. I'm assigning him to your team as a security escort." Selfridge folded his arms over his chest.

"The last thing I need is another trigger-happy asshole out there with a bimbo daughter!" Grace abruptly shouted, slamming her hand down on the table.

"She's smarter than she looks. You ever heard of that kid who won the US State Academic Award?" Selfridge flipped through a series of folders before pulling one out and showing the front paper to Grace.

The woman stared at the picture of you, eyebrows raising slightly in surprise. "That... was her?"

"Yeah. Maybe you can, I don't know, teach her to become a scientist or something. She learns fast from what I've heard. Jake only dragged her along because if he left, there’d be no one else to take care of her."

"So? She’s an adult."

"Well, no. She was a teenager before leaving for Pandora. But anyway, she went a bit loopy after high school. Took a bunch of pills. If Jake left her alone, he’d only return to her grave."

“What, so we’re taking in suicidal kids now? We ain’t a help shelter, Parker.”

“I think she can offer us something. Quaritch took one look at her picture and accepted her into the operation. So, clearly, he sees something we don’t. But, whatever keeps him happy, I guess. As long as he gets his job done.”

Grace scoffed for what felt like the fifth time today. "Whatever." She muttered.

"Sully, Colonel wants to see you in the Armor Bay." Trudy Chacon, a pilot and former Marine, strode into the lab, still dressed in her flight suit. Jake lifted his head, sending Norm a puzzled look.

Nevertheless, he followed after Trudy. She led him past numerous planes and AMPSUITS. "He's down there," Trudy uttered, pointing to the makeshift gym where Jake saw Colonel Miles Quaritch bench-pressing massive weights.

"This low gravity makes you soft," Quaritch grunted as he pushed through the last rep. "You get soft; Pandora will shit you out dead with zero warning." He racked the bar and sat up, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. "I pulled your record, Corporal. Venezuela, that was some mean bush. Nothing like this here, though. You got heart coming out here. Especially with your daughter, no doubt."

Jake shrugged, "Just another hellhole, sir. And if I left my daughter, she'd practically be an orphan."

"You weren't planning on returning to her?"

"I'd probably be dead, sir. And if it takes six years to travel back, she'd want nothing to do with me. Even now, she almost despises me."

"She looks a lot like you, apart from the eyes."

"Yeah. Her mother had the same big doe eyes."

Quaritch only chuckled as he clapped Jake on the shoulder. "I was in First Recon a few years ahead of you. More than a few. Two tours in Nigeria, not a scratch. I come out here, and on the first day, I get this." He pointed to his scarred head, lips curling into a sneer. "They could fix this if I rotated back. But you know what? I kinda like it. Reminds me every day what's out there."

Jake listened attentively as Quaritch explained a proposition: "I take care of my own, son. Get me what I need, and I'll see you get your legs back when you rotate home—your real legs."

Jake let out a chuckle, not being able to suppress his wide grin. "That sounds real good, sir." He paused, "But what about my daughter?"

Quaritch raised an eyebrow as he watched Jake shake his head. "I can’t take care of her. I could barely take care of her on Earth. I need to make sure she ends up somewhere safe before I…" He trailed off.

“Before you run away.” Quaritch finished. “Don’t worry, Sully. I’ll take care of her if things get too tough.”

If only Jake noticed the crude meaning behind his words.

The first time Quaritch approached you was when your father was out on another mission. You were lounging around in the laboratory, tapping a pen against the table in boredom.

Norm was gone too, so was Grace. Trudy was with them as well. Max was… your eyes trailed around the room, searching for the friendly scientist. He was working on another project.

You sighed, tilting her head back. Your lips settled into a pout as you spun around in the chair, relieving your boredom for a few short sentences. You were interrupted when two hands slammed down on either side of you, effectively trapping you.

You looked up, eyes wide as you stared at the Colonel. You expected a scold to roll off his tongue. He merely grinned down at you. “We haven’t formerly met, Y/N.”

“You know my name?” You whispered. As far as you were concerned, nobody batted at eye at you. Sure, you were nice eye candy, a stark difference from the actual workers, but there was nothing else to you. You felt your cheeks heat up as he leaned closer.

“You’re Sully’s girl.” He grinned, “Plus, I read your file. You had a bright future. Early acceptation from Harvard law. What happened?”

You slowly swallowed. Right, you had forgotten about that. Your life had been going great until your high school graduation. It was the same day your Uncle Tom was shot. You didn’t turn up to graduation. In fact, you barely left your room after that.

Jake Sully was your father on paper but Tom Sully was everything else.

Your life fell into pieces after your Uncle’s death. You were already on the verge of a mental breakdown and his death was the breaking point.

You glanced back at Quaritch, silent for a moment. “An accident happened.” You murmured. “My Uncle died.”

“And I’m guessing your father didn’t help? He told you to suck it up?”

Yes, those were Jake’s exact words.

“Why are you talking to me, Colonel?” You muttered, fidgeting with your hands.

“I need you to do something for me, pretty.” His face was barely an inch from yours, his lips almost brushing yours. You had the urge to close the gap yet you remained still, waiting. “I need you to keep an eye on Augustine and her team. Can you do that for me?” His hands grazed your collarbones as he rested them on your shoulders. Your breath hitched. You hadn’t been touched so gently in years.

“Okay.” You whispered without thinking.

“Good. If that smart little brain of yours suspects anything, tell me.” He stood up straight.

“I’m not smart, Colonel.” You said as he began to walk away. You watched as he slung his jacket over his shoulder and turned to look at you once more.

A smirk pulled at his lips. “Oh? Then how come Harvard wanted you so bad?”

It had been days since your last interaction with the Colonel but his words seemed engraved into your head. You softly bit down on your bottom lip, jolting when Norm’s link suddenly opened. “Hey.” He greeted you. He was probably the only nice person to you. Him, Trudy, and Max. Grace didn’t like your presence looming around but she tolerated you. And Jake didn’t bother checking up on you; he wanted you to get settled in by yourself.

“Hi.” You replied, staring at him. You noticed his tired eyes. “Busy day?”

“Yeah. Decided to take a break. You doing alright?”

You silently nodded. Between you and Norm, there wasn’t much to discuss. You knew nothing about Pandora while he seemed to know everything, constantly spewing out knowledge in your face.

“You wanna grab lunch together?” Norm asked but you politely declined. You had already eaten after taking a short nap. Grace said she’d get you some work to do but she never did.

“Hey, Sully.” Another marine soldier whose name you didn’t know called out for you, “The Colonel’s asking for ya. Says he has a job for you.” You were secretly glad to have a task to do. Days on Pandora were so boring.

You scrambled out of your seat, following the Marine into a part of the base you had never been to. You mainly stuck to the science compound where Grace could keep an eye on you.

“Colonel, I got ‘er.” The soldier announced, briefly saluting. Quaritch turned away from Selfridge to look you up and down, nodding.

“Just make her file papers or copy. I don’t care.” You heard Selfridge hiss as he poked Quaritch’s chest and walked away. You felt self conscious standing in a room jam packed of soldiers. They all craned their heads to get a look at you, eyes flickering to your low cut top.

“Here you go, pretty. That’ll be plenty to keep you occupied. Just copy them and I’ll check back with you in an hour.” Quaritch shoved a pile of files into your arms, his hands grazing yours. You blushed at the sudden contact.

“Yes sir.” You squeaked. His gaze remained on your figure, almost scrutinising you before he turned his head.

You admired his side profile, your gaze not so subtly staring at his sharp jawline. He noticed but made no comment. You hurried off, almost crashing into people due to the files covering your vision. Quaritch watched you with an amused glint in his eyes. Oh, you were going to be fun.

You sat in front of the printer, your eyes drooping at its slow pace. You would have fallen asleep had Trudy not interrupted you. “Hey, mini Sully, what’cha doing?!” She ruffled your hair, jolting you awake.

“Printing papers for the Colonel.” You murmured, giving the printer a firm kick when it paused.

“You so bored that you started listening to the Colonel? Ha!” Trudy chuckled as she slung an arm around your shoulder. “Augustine really ain’t making it easy for you, huh?”

You simply shook your head. “She doesn’t seem to like me.”

“Oh, nonsense! She’ll warm up eventually!” Trudy slapped you on the back, leaving you winded. You lowly grunted, almost sent forward by the sudden force.

“Yeah, sure.” You muttered, still not believing the pilot’s words. The room was peacefully silent before Trudy swore under her breath.

“Sorry, babe, gotta fly some more avatars down. Duty calls.”

Her teasing pet name made your cheeks flare up. Somehow the RDA has managed to send the most attractive people to Pandora. You were stuck with the whirring printer as it paused again, clearly struggling. You gave it another kick, forcing it back into action.

“Whoa, slow down, sweetheart. Don’t need ‘cha breaking our equipment.” Quaritch leaned against the doorframe, gaze lazily trailing over you. You were sitting backwards on a chair, arms propped up.

“It’s too slow.” You complained. Though, your voice was quiet. Quaritch had to strain his ears to hear your words.

“Where’s your dad?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Out.” You replied, suddenly feeling bitter at how Jake was almost ignoring you.

“He plans to abandon you.”

You ceased all actions as you slowly turned your head to stare at Quaritch. “What?” You whispered.

Jake wasn’t the best dad, that was for sure. At least, not to you. But you could barely blame him. You were the result of a college hook-up, just another burden forced into his hands when your mother didn’t want you. He liked you at first. He treated you with care.

You were his precious little girl for a brief moment in time. And then you grew up into your own person, almost like a stranger to Jake. You looked so much like him that he seemed to hate it. He hated seeing another copy of him, reminding him of what his life could have looked like had he not lost control in his legs.

Deep inside, you were still his little girl who believed you were his whole world when, in reality, you were the last thing in his mind.

“Said so himself, sweetheart. He can’t look after you, not like this.” Quaritch stepped closer to you, softly tilting your chin up with a flick of his fingers.

You knew your presence made life difficult for Jake but he never complained. Hearing the Colonel’s cruel words was a snap back to reality.

“I suppose it’ll be easier for him…” You muttered, your tongue darting out to lick your dry lips.

“I told him I’d take care of you.” Quaritch muttered as he leaned down, his warm breath hitting your ear. “So don’t get into trouble, sweetheart.” He teasingly tapped your cheek as the corners of his mouth twitched into a sly grin.

You had a feeling that Quaritch wasn’t trying to act as a second father finger as his gaze lingered on your lips for a second too long.

Your theory was proven correct when one night, weeks after your arrival, Quaritch cornered you in the dim kitchen. It was late and you had snuck out of your room to retrieve a cup of cold water. You didn’t even know the Colonel had entered the room until he closed the creaky door behind him.

“Up for a late night snack, sweetheart?” He called out, using your endearing nickname. You stared at him through your lashes as you leaned over to grab a cup from the dishwasher.

“No, sir. Only some water.” You softly replied, never breaking eye contact. In one swift moment, he snatched the fragile cup from your hand and shoved you against the stone-top counter. The edges dug into your clothed back as you merely blinked up at him.

“You’re in my personal space, Colonel.” You said, lightly mocking him. He said nothing as he effortlessly lifted you onto the counter, grabbing your chin with his hand.

“It was easy to ignore those science pukes and my soldiers but you waltz around here in low jeans and cropped tops.” His brows furrowed together in frustration, “I can’t even remember the most beautiful woman I’ve seen because it’s always you in my goddamn mind.”

You tilted your head to the side, adjusting your shirt that was beginning to slow down your shoulder, showing a silver of skin. “I don’t understand, sir.” You murmured. What was the point behind his words?

He leaned in, lips brushing yours but never actually colliding. He seemed to hesitate but the doubt clouding his head vanished when you wrapped your arms around his neck and closed the distance between you.

You were moving eagerly, taking away his ability to breathe. Literally. He had to forcefully pull away to inhale some much needed oxygen to relieve his dizzy head.

You didn’t let him take a break for long. You tugged him forward by his shirt collar, muttering muffled words against his lips. “Don’t leave me, Colonel.” You whispered, tucking your face into his shoulder.

Quaritch pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck, dragging out a low sigh from you. You allowed your head to loll to the side, granting him further access. He nipped and sucked on your exposed skin, listening to the quiet sounds slipping past your lips.

From that night on you, were obsessed with Colonel Miles Quaritch and you only drowned deeper into the guilty pleasure each time you shared stolen kisses in the empty corridors.

You barely saw Jake anymore, too preoccupied in keeping Quaritch company. You were sure Lyle Wainfleet, Quaritch’s second-in-command, could hear the squeak of his superior’s bed. Lyle had even caught you sneaking out of the Colonel’s room late at night a few times, hair messy, lipstick smudged, and your shirt barely covering the bruises that lay upon your collarbone. Yet, you didn’t really care and neither did he. Lyle had seen much worse things in his lifetime.

You were lying in your own bed when you heard a knock on your door. Begrudgingly, you crawled out from under your warm blankets and stumbled through the dark.

You opened the door, expecting to see your father, maybe Norm or Trudy, even Grace. You were expecting anybody else but the Colonel himself.

“Sir.” You greeted him. He brushed past you, entering your room without your permission but you let him. You were already closing the door behind you, locking it for safe measures.

“Felt lonely without you.” Quaritch sighed as he fell onto your soft mattress. You could faintly see him beckoning you over through the darkness. “Missed the smell of your perfume too.” As you lay down beside him, he buried his face into the crook of your neck, your perfume hitting him like an avalanche.

You thought he was merely here for sex, like he always was, but he grabbed your wrists when your hands travelled to the waistband of his pants. “Just wanted to see your pretty face and hear your voice.” He uttered, wrapping an arm around your waist.

You felt a warm, giddy feeling seep into your chest as he pulled you close. When had you last been touched so lovingly? Quaritch was so gentle. His hands rested on the curve of your back, thumb rubbing affectionate circles into your skin.

You allowed your eyes to flutter closed, leaning into his warm embrace. For the first time in a while, you felt safe. Quaritch shifted, his arms now wrapped around you as he pulled you close. The lingering smell of his cologne hit you, clouding your mind of every rational thought.

The effect he had on you was dangerous but you loved it.

You were aimlessly braiding Trudy’s hair when Grace stormed towards you. She grabbed you by the shoulder, practically dragging you towards the door. Trudy looked up, confused, but not questioning it.

“Ow! That hurts!” You exclaimed, trying to swat Grace’s hand away. She ignored you.

“Are you out of your mind?!” She hissed, harshly flicking your forehead. “Messing around with Quaritch of all people?”

“How do you know about that?” You didn’t bother denying it.

“Well, he isn’t exactly secret about it. Doesn’t even bother wiping the lipstick marks off his neck. And nobody here wears lipstick apart from you.” She poked your chest, her eyebrows furrowing. “You could do so much better. Why him of all the idiotic people here?”

You silently shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “He makes me feel… loved.” You whispered, lowering your head. You had never been ashamed of being involved with the Colonel but Grace’s judgemental glare suddenly made you feel self conscious.

“He isn’t capable of love, kid! And that’s what you are. You’re like a kid compared to him! There’s plenty of younger marine soldiers.” Grace paused, looking you up and down. “Unless… this has something to do with Jake. If you’re looking for anything resembling a father, you won’t find it in Quaritch.”

Tears glazed over your eyes as Grace said nothing but the truth.

“If you’re looking for stability, protection, and emotional support because your relationship with Jake lacks that, choose someone else. Not Quaritch.”

Your cheeks burned up. You barely understood yourself, but Grace was psychoanalysing you in a matter of seconds. You swallowed hard, your throat tight as Grace’s words cut deep. You wanted to argue against her brutal honesty, but she was staring right through you, her gaze sharp.

"I'm not looking for a father figure."

"Then what are you looking for?" She pressed, her voice softer but still relentless. "Love? That’s not in his arsenal, kid." Grace saw your trembling lips. She sighed gently, "I'm not trying to beat you down. Quaritch has his motives, and whatever feelings you have for him won't change his agenda. Trust me, I’ve seen men like him. They’re good at giving you what you want—until they don’t." Her voice was almost motherly, starkly different from how she usually spoke to you. She never talked to you like that, not with such tenderness, making the truth even more challenging to swallow.

Her words haunted you as she walked away. You felt vulnerable. Grace had peeled away a layer of you that you weren't ready to face. Your chest felt tight as you stumbled towards Quaritch's office, your eyesight blurry with unfallen tears. Grace's voice lingered in the back of your mind, attacking you.

She was right—you knew it deep down. But the ache of Quaritch's attention, his intense affection, felt too good to give up. It was intoxicating, in a dangerous way that clouded your judgment. He made you feel important and seen; it filled the hole in your heart.

The warmth of his presence, the subtle touch of his hand when no one was watching, the guarded smiles he flashed—it was enough to make you forget, even for a fleeting second, how dangerous your obsession with Quaritch could be.

His possessive gaze from across the room always made your stomach somersault. His attention was a drug, and you weren't sure if you had the strength to walk away.

You slowly lifted a hand, hesitantly knocking on his door. "Come in." He gruffly called out. You twisted the knob, gently pushing the door open.

"Hello, sir." You murmered.

He instantly noticed your distressed face and the way your brows creased together. "What's on your mind, sweetheart?" He asked, beckoning you forward.

"Sir..." Your mouth ran dry. "Is it true? Do you really view me as a..." You couldn't even finish your sentence. He played with the hem of your shirt, nodding his head to encourage you to continue. "Someone told me you don't care about me."

"Of course I do, princess." He caressed your waist. "Who told you that?"

"Grace." You murmured, kneeling in front of him and leaning your cheek against his knee. He softly stroked your head, bringing you a speckle of comfort.

"Don't listen to those science pukes, sweetheart." He told you, tilting your head up. "They don't know you like I do, baby." His thumb traced the shape of your lips. All your doubts flew out the window as he pulled you up, kissing you.

You peeked into Jake's room, searching for your father. You noticed how his bunk was almost empty, stripped of his belongings. The only thing left was a framed picture of you and him on his nightstand with a short note under it. You knew what the letter meant. He was leaving you all over over.

Suddenly, you were five again, begging your father not to go on another mission because you still wanted- no, needed- his love. You held the photograph of you together close to your chest, your emotions overwhelming you. You didn't even know he still had this picture, let alone kept it beside him while he slept. However, the fact that he had forgotten or purposely left it didn't sit right with you.

Your hands trembled as you removed the picture from the frame, delicately folding it and shoving it into your pocket. You grabbed the note, almost crashing into the wall with how fast you ran out of the room. “Sorry!” You exclaimed as you shoved past two scientists.

You frantically knocked on Quaritch’s door, knowing it was his day off. When he didn’t open it, you started wildly banging your fist against the surface. You even kicked the door a little, almost knocking it off its hinges. “I’m coming! I’m coming! Hold on, fucking hell!” You heard him shout. He angrily opened the door, raising his eyebrows when he saw you.

“My dad. He left.” You blurted out. You felt bad for snitching on your own father but that wasn’t enough to stop you. A part of you would always crave Quaritch’s approval and you knew you’d go to great lengths to prove it. “He left this.” You handed him the note Jake had placed on the nightstand, announcing his abrupt departure with Norm, Grace, and Trudy. As Quaritch’s eyes scanned over the note, you couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder when you heard a quiet groan.

Your heart almost stopped. There was a woman in Quaritch’s bed. All you could see was her brunette hair but you immediately knew it was. Paz Socorro. The marines liked her as much as they liked you. She was beautiful, much closer to Quaritch’s age than you. She was curled into a ball, the blankets softly draped over her undressed form.

Quaritch saw you stiffen but only raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘we weren’t exclusive’. He shoved the note back into your hands and closed the door on you, not even bothering to even utter a word. You stood in front of his room, frozen and shocked. Once you realised he had no intention of speaking to you, you slowly dragged your feet in the direction of your room.

Your body felt heavy as you forced it to move. You were sure you would have fully collapsed when your knees buckled if it wasn’t the person who swiftly caught you. “Thank you.” You murmured.

You barely got to your room in time before everything started collapsing. You slammed the door behind you, slowly sliding down it. Tears streamed down your face as you tried to wipe them away with no avail.

Your father had left you like he always did even though he promised he’d never do it again.

Norm and Trudy, your only two friends, were gone too.

And Grace, who you were beginning to view as a slight mother figure, left with them.

Not to mention Quaritch, the man who your twisted mind claimed to love, had another woman in his life. Grace was right. You should have listened but you thought you knew better.

You felt numb as you crawled into your bed, ignoring your given duties. Selfridge had knocked on your door hours ago, demanding you to file and copy some paperwork, but you tuned his voice out. Nobody except for you knew how to properly work the printer. What a bunch of idiots. Weren’t they supposed to be the smartest and toughest bunch?

Your hair stuck to your flushed face as you buried yourself deeper into the comfort of your blankets. You barely registered the sound of your door creaking open until the dim light from the hallway suddenly flooded in.

“Princess, I promise you she meant nothing.” You heard Quaritch call out into your dark room, “She was just a fling, that’s all. I missed you.”

A part of you didn’t want to believe his words, but as he leaned down to kiss the side of your head, you lost all common sense. You couldn’t resist his sickly sweet words, which made your stomach churn and your heart flutter.

He embraced you, and you let him, knowing there was no point in fighting when you would ultimately lose. You kissed him back as he crawled into your bed, cornering you without a chance to run.

You were tightly wrapped around his finger as he placed you on his lap, your lips never leaving his. You were barely inhaling any oxygen, sacrificing your need to breathe to spend more time pressed up against Quaritch.

Grace was right, but you were already in too deep to remember her words. It was your mistake, really. And you realized that when Quaritch's gentle grip became bruising, and it became impossible to escape his controlling gaze.

Quaritch watched the monitor in anger, staring at Jake’s avatar. His hands clenched into fists as he immediately spun around, searching for the one person who would give him the leverage he needed. You.

He burst into your room. You screamed out of surprise, papers flying everywhere. “Get up, princess.” He yanked you out of your seat, his tight grip enough to bruise your shoulder.

“Where are we going?” You asked, your gaze nervously darting around.

“To get your dad. You know where he is, right?”

You stared up at Quaritch, your lips sealed. Jake had briefly mentioned the location to you in his note, but you had scribbled it out before showing Quaritch the letter. He merely chuckled, leaning down to match your height. “Come on, sweetheart. Tell me where he is, and I’ll reward you.” He caressed your cheek, thumb gently stroking your skin. You leaned into his touch, your mind clouded.

“A reward?” You quietly questioned. “Anything I want?”

Quaritch smirked, “Anything.”

You thought for a moment, thickly gulping. Your eyes darted up to meet his and you parted your glossy lips. “The Hallelujah mountains.” You whispered, almost wishing he didn’t hear you.

“Good job, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you give you want you want when we get back.” He patted your head and you opened your lips to ask what he meant by we. Your silent question was answered when he tugged you towards an aircraft.

“Your dad’s crossed the line. It’s time he remember who he’s fighting for.”

You stiffened as Quaritch suddenly pricked your skin with a sharp knife. He held it against your throat. One wrong move and your blood would be everywhere. The blade dug into your flesh, cutting a thin line. Tiny drops of blood oozed out, staining your white-collar top.

You were scared for your life but you made no attempt in fighting against Quaritch. Because surely he wouldn’t actually slit your throat, right? He loved you too much… at least, that’s what you thought in your mind.

Quaritch, satisfied with your dormant state, slowly slipped the knife back into its holster. He held onto you securely, making butterflies erupt in your stomach. To you, it felt like a loving touch. To others, they knew it was a way of ensuring you didn’t run.

You looked foreign to your father. He hadn’t gazed at you in so long that he forgot what you looked like. He felt a small pang of guilt as he watched the way Quaritch took a step to stand closer to you, too close to be merely acquaintances.

Grace has warned him about the Colonel’s new suddenly interest in you but Jake was too stubborn to listen. Now he realised what she meant. Jake, after years of letting you fend for yourself, had officially lost you. And you had fallen into the hands of a greedy and cruel man.

You stood beside Quaritch as the recording of Jake destroying a bulldozer camera played on repeat. It suddenly paused on a frame revealing Jake’s angry snarl. “You let me down, son.”

You watched the scene with wide eyes. Grace, Norm, and Jake were thrown into a cell for siding with the Na’vi. You turned to Quaritch, tugging on his shirt to gain his attention. “Sir, is this really necessary?” You murmured, glancing at your father.

Quaritch wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you away. “He doesn’t love you, sweetheart. He doesn’t care about you.” He whispered in your ear as he stroked his thumb over your cheek. Your mind instantly believed any lie he shoved down your throat and you slowly nodded. “I’m here. I care about you, not him.”

You blindly trailed after him. You’d walk off a cliff for Quaritch and he knew it. He used your loyalty to his advantage because all it took was a murmur of sweet words in your ear for you to follow him.

You didn’t visit Jake until hours later. You adjusted your top to conceal the marks Quaritch had left on your body. The guard standing in front of the cell nodded in acknowledgment at you before walking off to give you some privacy. You halted in front of the cell, red eyes looking up to meet Jake’s. It had taken thirty minutes for you to stop crying after Quaritch convinced you that Jake wanted you gone.

“Quaritch said you don’t care about me.” You uttered, staring at Jake. You heard the quiet sound of Grace scoffing.

“And you believe him?” She asked.

“You left me. Why wasn’t I allowed to come?” Your brows furrowed. Jake was sitting right in front of you in his wheelchair, wanting to reach out a hand to comfort you but he knew you’d only pull away. His touch felt like hot iron on your skin.

“It was too dangerous.” He muttered, unable to meet your gaze.

You kneeled so that he was forced to lock eyes with you. “Why don’t you love me?” Your words came out as a whisper but when Jake didn’t answer, you grew angry. “Why don’t you love me?!” You reached through the bars, gripping onto his shirt. “You don’t love me! You don’t care about me! Why?! Why don’t you love me?!” You screamed.

Jake couldn’t answer. You leaned your head against the bar, tears rolling down the apples of your cheeks. It felt like you were a child again, crying into his arms about a scraped knee. Only, it was something bigger than that.

You sniffled, your tight grip on Jake’s shirt loosening. “Why are you leaving me for her?” You didn’t even have to say Neytiri’s name. You saw the look in Jake’s eyes when he spoke about Neytiri with Norm and Grace. It was the same way you looked at Quaritch.

After your short outburst, you were ushered away by the guard. Jake could only helplessly stare at your retreating form. You were his little girl and he had let you down.

The last time Jake ever saw you with his human eyes was when he jumped on a plane with Grace, Norm, and Trudy. You had been in the control tower with Quaritch when you heard the sound of a whirring engine. The moment you realised Jake was leaving you for good, you kicked open the door and rushed out without an oxygen mask.

Jake could still remember your teary eyes as you outstretched an arm, silently begging him to come back. You would have fallen over the metal railing if it wasn’t for Quaritch heaving you back. The Colonel swiftly lifted an oxygen mask to your face, forcing you to breathe.

You never saw your father again.

It was clear that Jake’s departure meant war. Quaritch barked orders at his soldiers and pilots with you hot on his heels. He only spared you a glance when you were in the safe confides of his office.

“You know I have to go, sweetheart.” He murmured against your skin. You shook your head.

“Don’t go, please.” With Jake gone, Quaritch was your last lifeline.

“I’ll come back, princess.”

Lies.

“We can start that family you always wanted.”

Lies.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

LIES.

“No, don’t leave.” You whimpered, a futile attempt to convince him to stay with you. “If you leave, that means you don’t love me.” You received no answer. “Do you love me?” You asked, “Or are you lying? I don’t like liars.” Your nails dug into his skin.

“I have to leave, baby.” Quaritch repeated.

You were on your knees in an instant, tugging aggressively on his shirt as you sobbed. It was an exact repeat of what had happened with your father. You were starting to notice a pattern. “Why don’t you love me?! Why are you like him?” You cried. “He left me! And you’re leaving me!”

You had given him everything. Why did he still not return your desperate feelings? Quaritch almost felt bad for you. He flattened out your tousled hair, quietly shushing you. “Princess, stop crying.” He wiped your tears and smeared mascara away.

“Do you love me now?” You whispered, your hopeful doe eyes staring up at him. You were beautiful, even with red eyes and tears streaming down your face. Quaritch hesitated. Would it be going too far to lie about such a thing to you? Especially given your current mental state.

You didn’t wait for him to reply. You forcefully pressed your lips against his, pushing him back into his seat. “I love you.” You murmured in between kisses. You were barely letting him breathe, suffocating him with your presence in hopes it would get him to reciprocate your feelings.

Maybe you were reaching for something unattainable, desperate for a connection in a place that would ultimately kill you. And yet, deep down, you knew this wasn’t love. It wasn’t even affection in the way you craved. It was something darker, but that didn’t stop you from wanting more. Every time Quaritch was near, you let yourself sink deeper into the dangerous game you were playing.

It all dawned on you as you watched Quaritch suit up. He looked handsome in his army uniform but a bitter feeling was still gnawing at you. He was leaving you just like Jake. He was abandoning you just like Jake.

You held onto Quaritch tightly, begging him once more not to go. Selfridge had to pry you off the Colonel as you sobbed and reached out your hands for him. “Why don’t you love me?!” You repeated in a loud screech, screaming at the top of your lungs. “You’re leaving me like him! You don’t love me! You lied to me! You fucking lied!” In anger, you threw your necklace at him. It hit the ground and you didn’t have a chance to retrieve it as you were dragged away screaming and swearing.

You never saw Quaritch again either. Nor Grace, Trudy, Norm, or Max.

Grace was dead. Trudy was dead. Quaritch was dead. You were under the impression that everybody was dead.

You had been forced into a dark room until you called down out of your maniac state, only seeing the light when a hatch opened to deliver you food. You didn’t know how long you had been sitting on the ground for. It felt like days had passed.

You slowly blinked, hands reaching for a gun hidden in the pockets of your cargo pants. You had taken it from your father’s room out of pure curiosity and forgot to return it. It was only loaded with one bullet but that was all you needed.

You pressed the gun against your head, biting down on your lip. You tasted metal in your mouth and it brought you an odd sense of comfort as your finger squeezed the trigger.

Nobody heard the loud gunshot ring through the air as your limp body fell to the side with a loud thud, blood staining the rough concrete floor.

The last time Jake truly saw you was when your dead body was being buried, the image of your bloodied hands engraved in his mind.

AVATAR TAGLIST (comment to be added/removed): @gruffle1

[byunpum]

AVATAR MATERLIST

 ༄| A V A T A R |༄

R U L E: Any request is acceptable. Characters will always have their age increased if necessary. I accept:

Movie: Avatar 1 & 2.

Fluff | Angst | Smut | normal

I update this every time I have done a new work. If you want to support my work KO-FI

Series:

Experiment 56 [neteyam x human reader]

[ Y/N characteristics and fun facts]

Summary: Y/N is surprised that she is an indispensable part of the human race, being a perfect blend of Navi and humans. Her family will do everything possible to keep her hidden and safe.

Experiment 56 SEQUEL “your time is coming” [neteyam x human reader] *paused*

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5

Summary: Y/N thinks she has a peaceful life with her new family. But a sudden visitor is about to change her life and her family’s life.

The New member [ Quaritch x human reader]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 final

Summary: After the boat altercation with the sullys, and being able to make spider return with him to the base. General ardmore has a big surprise for quaritch. A new member will join her squad, this new person will not only change the RDA, but himself.

Do you hate me? [Tsu-tey x Human reader]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 final

Summary: You are the eldest Sully daughter, you are adopted. All your life you have grown up watching tsu'tey, and your feelings for him have grown. Everything changes when one day you go hunting with your crush.

I can be a better father {Tsu-tey x Child Y/N x Child spider]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Summary: Follow tsu'tey in his new life as a single father of two human children. A compilation of moments and adventures of their lives.

Ghost girl [Neteyam x Albino na'vi!fem x sully family]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5(final)

Summary: After their village was destroyed by humans, Y/N must seek refuge in the forest. Her being rescued by a peculiar family, she discovering that her gift had led her to them.

Mama's Boy [Jake x neytiri x human reader (trio couple) x sully children's x Lo'ak son]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 (final)

Summary: Lo'ak is his mother's favorite child. After leaving the clan, and now living in clan metkayina. His only wish is that his mother is by his side again. The only problem is that his mother is a… human.

One-shots:

1. They caught us [neteyam x human reader] SMUT

Part 1 |Part 2  |Part 3 | Part 4

2. Little gifs [ Tsu'tey x human reader] 

Part 1 | Part 2

3. The family’s Clothing [ Lo'ak x human reader]

4. Picnic in the greenhouse [Neteyam x Lo'ak x human reader] SMUT

5. A shy Y/N who doesn’t really show affection to neteyam. [Neteyam x human reader]

6. Loak and the reader take care of tuk. [Loak x Human or navi reader]

7. Reader fight with your brother loak, because he give tsireya your stuff. [Loak x human sister]

8. Neteyam does everything possible to help the sadness that Y/N feels.

9. Kiri and Y/N being twins, but Y/N has a curiosity about people in the sky.

10. Lo'ak x human/na'vi hybrid, Lo'ak lets his imagination fly.

11. Neteyam is obsessed with your chubby lover.

12. I am very sorry (Jake sully x Human daugther)

13. Use me [Neteyam x Human reader] (Smut)

14. Z-DOG she has something going on, and she doesn't know what it could be. Y/N may be able to help her.

15. Tsu'tey asks eywa for a perfect mate, eywa sends him a surprise.

16. Jealousy, damn jealousy (Neteyam x lo'ak x Human-mix reader)

17. Ao'nung save the reader from idiots (ao'nung x human reader-kiri twin)

18. Reader defending lo'ak from his father (lo'ak x human reader)

19. Quiet [Neteyam x Human-mix] (Smut)

20. Child human-reader is lost in the forest and some curious boys find her.

21. Tsa·zìskrrmipaw (Neytiri meeting us for the first time when we were newborn) Part 1 | Part 2

22. Hifwo (Neteyam x human reader)

Auntie Y/N sully series:

( The parts are organized, so that you can understand better)

1. Y/N being the best aunt

2.My lost child [ Aunt sully reader x Spider](Mother and son)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

3. More moments in the life of AUNT sully.

4. Aunt Y/N's nephews are jealous of her new mate and they do everything they can to keep them apart.

5.AUNT Y/N SULLY BEING THE ‘COOL ONE’ IN THE FAMILY.

6. AUNT Y/N SULLY BEING THE ‘COOL ONE’ IN THE FAMILY Pt.2

7. Auntie Sully: New tails, new family

8. Auntie Sully: New tails, new family (part 2)

Others moments:

1. Aunt Y/N has to say goodbye to her family.

2.Tuk and kiri find an object and run to ask their aunt Y/N.

3. Jake discovers that several Na'vi tried to court his sister.

4. Neytiri reaction will be when she found out Jake and Auntie Sully are actually triplets

5. How the sully family, more neytiri. React to aunt Y/N and jake share more moments being twins.

6. Auntie sully giving everyone pizza for the first time

Headcanons:

1. Neteyam being a baby daddy ft. sully family and quaritch {Neteyam x Human reader}

2. Aonung wants you to be his partner, but he is afraid you will reject him. {Aounug x human reader}

3. where y/n is trying to show off to the boys and fails miserably.

4. Loak being a good brother. 

5. Kiri with her twin sister

6. Lo'ak in love with Y/N. Literally obsessed.

7. THE BEST FATHER I COULD BE [Lo'ak x human reader]

8. Rivals for lovers with Lo'ak

9. Jake and Y/N knew sign language and they both used it to just talk shit

10. React to a chubby reader [Neytiri, neteyam, lo'ak and jake]

11. Recoms being softies for thier medic Human-reader

12. Jake and neytiri holding the human reader like a teddy bear

13. Neteyam, Jake and Lo'ak how would they react if their partner playfully bites them

14. Your brothers and you (reader) react when you see a boy courting Tuk.

[backmuscles21]

You're Supposed To Be Ours

Recoms x Reader

Summary: You are an RDA chemist, you have caught the eyes of all the recoms. They can be a little possessive. So, when they see you talking with someone else, they need to teach you your place and where you belong. Warnings: smut, belly bulge, size kink, begging, spanking, orgasm denial/delay, punishment, possessive behaviour, sub/dom undertones

You came to Pandora as a chemist, they needed you to run tests on water, plants, rocks, and other elements. Basically, what they wanted you to do was make a periodic table for the things on Pandora.

Easier said than done.

However, you did love your job and you loved the planet. One thing you loved the most about your job was the new relationship you started. You have an avatar body for when you go on missions to collect samples to test and figure out their composition. Since you have a trillion-dollar avatar body and were only a scientist, you needed protection. And what better protection than the new Na’vi recom soldiers? Plus, they were tall, strong, and muscular.

So that is how you met your new lovers. You learned that they were a little hard-headed, very strong, very loyal, and pretty jealous. Not necessarily jealous of each other, they saw themselves as a family, but with literally anyone else. When you told them you liked boy boys and girls you couldn’t talk to a single soul without them feeling a tinge of jealousy. Some were good at hiding it others had it written all over their face, it didn’t really bother you too much, you had them.

You would go to work and then go back to them, sometimes in your human body or in your avatar. Not too many people knew you were with all the recoms, the only people that really knew were some of the people in your department. They had seen you with them when they dropped you off or came by to pick you up after you finished work or when they would visit you while you were working. It was always someone different, but it was always one of your tall blue lovers.

Some of your co-workers liked to pick on you a little for being with them and fucking the aliens. You didn’t care, you loved them deeply, and you wouldn’t ever trade them for the world.

But one day, when one of them came to visit you while you were working, they saw you talking with some of your co-workers. You were laughing and smiling and you just tucked your hair behind your ears, you did that when you were flustered.

It was Prager who came to visit you, he was feeling tired and in a cuddly mood and he always sought you out when he got that way. He was angry that you’d be talking with this guy that you worked with. You should be laughing with anyone but them, you were theirs. So, Prager went back to the recom common room to tell everyone what he saw.

He stormed back to the common room, punched in the door code and stomped in.

“What happened? Did she say she had to work? Cause I told you so,” Lopez said with a smirk.

Prager didn’t answer, instead, he gathered everyone in the common area.

“What’s going on? Care to explain?” Miles asked.

“I went to see her and I saw her but she was talking and laughing with another guy. They were supposed to be working and she even tucked her hair behind her ears. She was flirting with him; I couldn’t believe it. So, I came back here to tell you guys,” Prager explained.

“What was she doing?” Mansk asked, always trying to work out situations, giving you the benefit of the doubt.

“She was by her microscope, she was writing on some papers, but then she stopped and she gave him her undivided attention,” Prager explained

“Well, let’s go see this then,” Lyle said wanting to confirm it.

Miles put his arm out to stop Lyle, “no. We wait till she finishes work, she has to anyway. Then we will confront her. You know she can’t lie worth a damn and will crumble under us. She can also explain her side of the story and we will go from there.”

“Are we gonna punish her?” Walker asked with a slight smirk.

“Depends. She might have an explanation and then we will just tone down our usual punishment. If she doesn’t deny it and says what she did, we will use a lesser punishment. If she tries to hide it and denies it, we will go no bars held. She knows her safe word,” Miles explained to everyone.

“When is she done?” Zdog asked.

“A few hours. I’ll pick her up. I intimidate her the most,” Miles said as he smirked at his fellow soldiers.

“So, what do we do till then?” Ja asked.

“We could try to get her out early. Maybe do a random walk-by and see if it’s continuing?” Fike suggested.

“That’s the first smart thing you’ve ever said,” Lopez smirked.

“Go fuck yourself,” Fike said to Lopez with a scoff and smile while rolling his eyes.

So, a few hours passed and Miles left a couple of minutes before you were supposed to finish for the day. He walked in front of the glass doors of the chemistry lab, there were multiple scientists working away. Then his eyes landed on you, looking into different Petri dishes and writing stuff down. He fell in love with you all over again, he couldn't believe how gorgeous you were. Both your human body and your avatar body were absolutely stunning, he understood why people wanted you, not that they’d ever get you.

He opened the door and walked in, he saw you look up and smile brightly. He walked over to you and placed his hands on your shoulders and watched you finish your notes.

“I’m almost done give me five minutes.”

“Take your time cupcake,” Miles said patting your shoulders.

He noticed your co-workers staring at you and him and then whispering to each other, he knew they liked to gossip. He wasn’t bothered by them and he knew you weren’t either but he still didn’t like it. He gave them a slight scowl and turned back towards you.

Finally, you and him left the lab and went to the recom-only areas. Once you entered the room and saw all of your lovers right there you were surprised.

“Woah, what’s going on? Did I miss something? Is there a special occasion?” You said slightly nervous.

Miles came up behind you and placed his hands on your shoulders and squeezed a little bit. “We needed to talk to you about something and we need you to be honest.”

“What’s up?” You said it slowly, you were kind of scared.

“Were you flirting with one of your co-workers today?” Miles asked.

“Flirting? You think I would purposely flirt with someone I work with? That’s like giving that person a death wish. I wasn’t trying to flirt with anyone, if that happened, I’m sorry that it did, it was not my intention.”

“But you were flustered. I saw you tuck your hair behind your ears,” Prager said.

“I was using my microscope a lot today and I forgot my hair tie. You know how I hate my hair in my face. I just happened to tuck my hair behind my ears a lot today.”

“But you were laughing and talking with him then you looked down and tucked your hair behind your ears. You were flustered, he made you flustered.”

“I swear I never intended for that to happen. I have to talk with my coworkers, I need them to tolerate me. I work with them and there’s no replacing them or me so we have to get along. I promise I was not intentionally flirting with anyone I work with.”

“But you were being friendly,” Lyle said.

“Yeah, but I need to be. I need them to like me. I’m friendly to anyone I talk to. I don’t talk to a lot of people other than you guys but I’m not an asshole.”

“I think you need to learn your place,” Miles said leaning over to whisper in your ear.

Your eyes went wide, they planned on punishing you for this.

“Do I need my avatar for this?”

“No, we will be tame enough for a human.”

You breathed out loudly through your nose trying to calm yourself. You didn’t hate when this happened, it was hot. However, it was just a lot and it was tiring and it was just so much for your little body.

Miles started to move his hands down to your hips, then he moved them from your hips to slide up your sides and take your shirt off. You lifted your arms to help him take your shirt off, he threw your top onto the floor and touched your smooth skin again. His hands went to your back and unclasped your bra, he took it off you as well and let it fall to the floor. Miles smiled as he watched everyone state at you, he placed his large hands on your tits and pulled you into his body. He started to play with your nipples and it made you cry out.

You could see the smirks on everyone’s faces as they watched you whine while being toyed with. Miles' hands then found the hem of your pants, he unbuttoned them and let them fall to the floor.

“These are cute,” Miles said as he revealed your panties to the recoms. He grabbed the band of your panties on your hip and let it slap against your skin.

“Now, be a good girl and go apologize to Prager first. He wanted you so badly and he had to see you openly flirting,” Miles said as he slapped your ass as you walked over to Prager.

You sat on Prager’s lap and kissed him; Prager’s hands roamed your body before staying on your hips. He squeezed the flesh of your hips and occasionally your butt, you found yourself naturally rolling your hips into him. You could feel him getting harder and harder, you then got off him to kneel in front of him. You started to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants; you pulled out his hard cock. Your hands were so tiny compared to his Na’vi-sized dick; you stroked him a few times before you took him into your mouth.

It was hard to take him into your mouth but you pushed through, his hand grasped at your hair as you sucked him off. He was moaning out lowly as you did the best you could to get as deep as possible, what you couldn’t reach you stroked. Prager was trying to not jerk his hips and start fucking your face but he couldn’t help it, you were just so good. You focused on his head, pushing your tongue onto it and swirling it around. You tried to keep your teeth from hitting his shaft but it was so hard when he was stretching your mouth to its limits. You knew he was close just from the way his thighs twitched and his cock twitched in your mouth.

You pushed him to the back of your throat as he came, it went right down and as you pulled off him, you looked up at him. He was smiling, he looked so blissed out.

“Do you forgive me?”

“Of course, baby,” Prager said stroking your head.

“Don’t be so nice to her. We’re not done here,” Miles said as he walked over to you and picked you up.

Miles placed you down on your stomach on one of the recom-sized tables, your legs dangled helplessly as he held you there with a hand on your back. Lyle walked up next to Miles and kissed your back a few times, his hand then replaced Miles as he stood behind you. He ground his semi-erect cock into your butt before his other hand stroked down your back, landing on your left butt cheek.

“You gonna count ‘em?”

You nodded, “yeah,” you breathed out feeling yourself get more turned on.

His large hand landed a good smack on your butt cheek, it had a good echoing sound.

“One,” you staggered out.

His hand gripped your butt cheek after the smack, his hand rubbed the area as it left your skin coming down again.

“Two.”

You could hear him snickering as he played with your butt cheek a bit before landing a few concurrent slaps to your left cheek.

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.”

You couldn’t lie, it was starting to hurt. You knew that this is what was supposed to happen, it was supposed to cause a bit of pain. You liked it but their recom size and strength was a bit much, it just felt raw more than painful, but you could still handle it.

“Six,” you whined out as Lyle slapped your butt again.

He was definitely an ass man but also a boob man, this man was just horny and would take what he could get. He loved all bodies, all sizes, and all parts, but he had a favourite, big juicy asses. He loved a nice jiggly butt, nothing was better, he liked getting to slap, squeeze, pinch, fondle, lick, kiss, suck, bite, whatever he could do, he wanted it. That’s why he was perfect for this job, he could get off on watching your butt jiggle as he slapped your butt.

“Seven.”

Lyle hit the same left cheek, you started to lurch forward as he made contact. It was getting to be quite painful but you were almost done, he almost always went to 10. If he tried more, you might stop him, if he would actually stop.

“Eight.”

You squeezed your eyes when Lyle made impact, you were moaning out at every hit. You could also feel how hard Lyle was, he had to be leaking.

“Nine.”

The finish line was so close, one more and you’d be done. You felt the hand on your back move to your hip, that was new. Both his hands then held your hips and he lifted your hips up a bit and that’s when you felt his cock head rubbing through your folds. You didn’t even hear him unzip his pants, He then pushed in as he slapped your left cheek one last time.

“Ten,” you cried out as he pushed a few inches into you.

Your hands tried to grip at the table, your fingertips pressing into the table while your knuckles bent. Your back was trying to arch with no success, Lyle held you in place as he slowly pushed in more and more.

“Feel how hard you made me by just having your ass on display. I guarantee now pussy ass science puke could fuck you like this. Could get as hard as this. Could get as deep as this. Could make you scream out like this.”

He was praising himself as he started to thrust in and out of you, he was praising how good their recom bodies could fuck you. Hoping that you’d never even think about your coworkers ever again, hoping that you’d never even look at another person.

“Lyle, fuck, Lyle,” you reached your hand back for him, “please.”

“Please what, buttercup?”

“More.”

“You got it babe.”

Lyle sped up and went deeper, you moaned out and he smirked. Your forehead hit the table as you cried out, he couldn’t help but get harder at the sight of you soaking up what he was giving you.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking deep.”

“You like it baby? I can do more. I can already feel myself inside you.”

Lyle smirked as he kissed your back, you could feel his hand on your stomach just below your navel. Your arm slowly moved down there to feel where his hand was, you could feel his cock poking through your skin. You’d seen it and felt it before but it got you every time, it was so hot to know how they were bulging out of you. it just made you feel so small, it was so hot to feel it, even more so when you’d press on it and you’d hear whoever was in you moan.

Like now, pressed down on your lower stomach had Lyle moaning and grunting, he kept thrusting faster and faster before cumming deep in you. While it felt good and it was hot, you didn’t cum and that was probably their plan for tonight, not stimulate you enough to cum or deny you of it all together.

Lyle pulled out and moved away from you, he then lifted you up and placed you in the lap of Lopez. He already had his cock out, he held onto your hips before helping you to sink down on his thick cock. You gripped onto his shoulders for dear life as you felt the stretch, nothing helped with the stretch. Even after Lyle just fucked the shit out of you, you still weren’t meant for their large bodies.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing the shit out of me, baby girl,” Lopez said resting his forehead in yours.

He slowly sunk you down further and further until he stopped and started to lift your body up and down on his cock. Your head rested on his shoulder as you cried out, your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled your bodies close together.

“Please, please, please, let me cum,” you whined out. You figured begging might help.

“I’m glad you figured it out. Sooner than I thought. Either way, you won’t be cumming for some time,” Miles said from right behind you. You felt him kiss your shoulder after he told you, his plan.

You whined out from Miles' words and from feeling Lopez go in deeper. You knew you had to cum, but you also knew you couldn’t otherwise your punishment would get worse. Your mouth bit into Lopez’s bare shoulder as you focused on not cumming. The grip Lopez had on your body got tighter as you tried your best to follow Miles’ orders.

“Fuck baby girl, you’re gripping me so fucking hard.”

“Well, I’m trying not to cum. You’re just hitting it perfectly.”

He made a particular few thrusts up into you at really stroked your walls beautifully. You moaned out, holding onto him harder as you held back the best you could.

“Miles please let me cum, I can’t hold it back, please.”

“You’re not cumming.”

You knew asking Lopez was futile, he wasn’t going to let you cum anymore than Miles would. You knew that you would just have to hold off, but that was going to be even harder shortly. After Lopez finally came, you felt yourself finally be able to let your body relax, but that didn’t last long.

“You good with going upside down?” Walker asked smirking in your ear. She bit the lobe of your ear lightly as she wrapped her arms around your waist. She lifted you up off Lopez and took you to where she was sitting. She rested your back on her thighs and took your hips lifting them up to her mouth. Your legs straddled her head as she smiled at you between them.

“Wait I can’t, she gonna make me cum. All she does is know how to stimulate. She doesn’t stop till I cum.”

“That’s your problem, honey,” Walker smiled as she attached her mouth to your clit.

Your head pushed back against her knees as you moaned out loudly. Your hands gripped the armrests and your eyebrows furrowed; your mouth was agape as Walker pulled moan after moan from your mouth. It was such a compliment to her to see you stuck in a state like this. However, it didn’t take long before she had you cumming, it was going to happen, and you were already holding back. You were so sensitive, it didn’t matter, any stimulation was going to get you to cum.

Walker slurped at your pussy as she took everything you gave her.

“I hope you enjoyed that. Because you’re in for it now.”

You stared up at Miles, you could see how much his hard cock was pushing his pants out from your position. You could feel yourself getting more turned on. Miles picked you up and laid you back on the table from earlier. He more or less dropped you and held you on your back. He snarled as he watched you squirm under his large hand, his jaw moved from side to side.

He was planning how he wanted to abuse your poor pussy.

One thing you learned about him was he enjoyed eye contact. If he was eating you out, he’d stare at you and you better be staring back. Same with when you gave him head, on top of that, while fucking he also wanted to see your eyes. You couldn’t close them from pain or pleasure, you had to keep them on his. He made you stare at him as he unbuttoned his pants, he kept eye contact with you as he roughly pushed into you. He pushed all of his length into you in one go, it made you moan out loudly. You have been prepared well enough but it still stung and especially just from how he just pushed it all inside. He was bottomed out and he was one of the longer and thicker ones. He started to thrust into you right away, he took no prisoners either.

He was merciless, he lifted a leg to rest it on the table to get better leverage to fuck you deeper. Your small hands clawed at his back; you were in pain but it felt so good. Miles was deep inside, he was fast and normally at this point, you’d just lay your hand on your lower stomach to feel the bulge of his cock outlined in your skin. You couldn’t your body was so wound up, he was stimulating you so much, you just gripped onto his skin.

Your abs were so tightly restricted, you were just constantly being overstimulated. Your eyes fought to stay open to stare into his as he fucked you, all you wanted to do was close your eyes and throw your head back. You fought with yourself to keep from letting your body feel the pleasure, you had to keep your eyes open. Not to mention, even if you begged, he probably wouldn’t have let you cum.

“Miles, Miles, please, I can’t. I have to cum.”

“You will wait till I do then I will let you.”

You sighed out in protest, you could barely hold it, you wanted to cum now. You knew he wouldn’t be too much longer but still, you had to cum now. You felt him twitch, he was close he had to be, it was light there was light at the end of the tunnel. He came deep inside you; you cried out as it just filled you up.

“Miles, please, can I cum?”

His sharp deep thrusts didn’t stop, “have at it, cupcake.”

It only took a second after he finished his sentence for you to cry out while cumming. Your body moved on its own, your eyes squeezed shut and the top of your head hit the table. It was probably one of the most intense orgasms the recoms have ever given your human body. Miles kissed your sternum a few times before pulling out, Ja was quick to pick your tired and spent body up and place you in his arms. He sat down with your body resting on his, he was grounding you by rubbing at your back and running a hand through your hair.

“Don’t you want to get off too?”

“No, baby. You’ve done too much. Your body is tired and probably sore. We can wait,” Ja said to you.

“But I’ve taken you all before?”

“Yeah, that was when you were taking two or three of us at once and we didn’t make you hold your orgasms. You rest, we have all the time in the world,” Zdog said butting in to kiss your tired and sweaty face.

[makoodles]

ミdaddy issues

part one | part two

🍓pairing: recom!miles quaritch x human fem reader

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

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

masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, spare me.” Anjali mumbles sourly.

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

That’s when another voice cuts in.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Panopyra.” You breathe.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s Fike that notices you first.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, Quaritch speaks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It poisonous?”

You hesitate a moment. “...No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” You ask suspiciously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You go entirely ignored as the two soldiers roar boisterously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No!” You shriek, launching yourself forward. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Geiszler creeps into the small workroom a few days later. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Geiszler nods awkwardly, looking distinctly guilty.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The next pause is much longer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That dildo. You ever use it?”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Answer the question.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, fuck.” You squeak, eyes wide. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, you can’t help but snicker yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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