#i love the recoms | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tojisun · 9 months

Text

pretty when i cry

recom miles quaritch x fem na’vi reader x olo’eyktan jake sully

!! smut - minors dni; pwp; threesome (p in v & oral); dacryphilia; size difference; hinted age gap (not really mentioned much because focus is on the size diff); power imbalance; extended foreplay (fingering); purity kink; corruption kink; dumbification; manhandling; slight exhibition kink; daddy kink; breeding kink; creampie; squirting; slight belly bulge; na’vi and english petnames; mean tease jake and quaritch; mutual possessiveness; switching povs // 5.7k words

: i wrote this when i was well-rested from my vacation and it exploded into this behemoth of a smut fic wheww; the fingering went on for too long bc, well, hands <33; i’m changing the format of the bulk of the fic to reduce eye strain; im super nervous posting this but i hope you guys would love it 🥹; title is from pretty when you cry - lana

jake watches, his throat parched, as quaritch (alive and looking too damn well as a na’vi) hefts you onto his lap, manhandling your smaller body so that your legs are spread wide open, giving jake a good view of your leaking cunt. your face is flushed, blue skin turning into a delicious purple, your eyes screwed shut as though by ignoring their hungry gazes, you wouldn’t feel the shame thrumming in your veins.

jake thinks you look so beautiful bathed in your shame – your lust burning at your core.

you’ve always been so tiny – the runt of the clan – but jake hadn’t seen the perks of your constitution, given that he’d been too busy worrying about you. you’ve always been his little doll, his little angel; the one who drove his protective instincts into new heights.

he wanted to keep you safe, yes, but he also wanted to keep you pure. naive. blindly trusting him because jake promised, didn’t he? he promised that he’d always protect and guide you? and jake had watched the way you melted in his arms, nodding at him softly, watching him with reverence as though the weight of his words exceeded that of eywa’s.

then quaritch swooped in, with his sharp fangs and sharper words, and then jake was losing you to him. because while jake desired your innocence, quaritch lusted for your corruption. and quaritch is too good at corrupting.

(“well, there’s no rule that says we can’t share her, corporal.”

jake’s fury evaporated, the clawing possessiveness that had him in a bind loosened up as his ears twitched at hearing quaritch’s drawled out words. the motherfucker smirked, slanted eyes curving in amusement at jake’s sudden interest.

“oh, so now we listenin’ to lil ol’ me, huh?”

jake’s tail snapped behind him, the limb whipping in agitation. quaritch just rolled his eyes at jake’s reaction, sighing through his nose as he leaned back to his seat, looking far too calm as though he and jake weren’t just arguing, almost fighting, over who gets to claim you.

any other day, jake would realize that he was acting just as selfishly as quaritch was; that despite all his bravado and promises of being the better man for you, he had only ended up following the colonel’s footsteps. but for now, jake didn’t care. not when whatever quaritch was offering seemed too good to reject.

quaritch huffed at jake’s silence, choosing to use it as a hint to keep on talking. “it’s not like we got any other choice, sully. for whatever fucked up reason, my girl wants you just as much, and i’m willin’ to share because, well.”

‘because i love her’ went unsaid but both jake and quaritch knew the words that he kept to himself.

jake swallowed the lump lodged in his throat, blinking his eyes to bat away the choking feeling of his possessiveness, chasing away the last remnants of his hesitancy as he hissed, “she’s my girl too, quaritch.”

it was as good as a crystal agreement and quaritch laughed, loud and booming.

“well, alright then.”)

it was natural to let quaritch take the lead and to have him do the talking. jake held your hand throughout, his thumb rubbing along the ridges of your knuckles as quaritch talked about soulmates and compatibility, things that jake knew the other man barely believed in, and ending his tirade with a “you’d love us equally, won’t you, princess?”

your eyes were wide as you listened to him talk, and jake almost cooed at how cute you looked with your lips parted open and your tail swishing behind you excitedly, but before he could do so, you ripped your hand from his hold and jumped right into quaritch’s arms.

jake had to admit, seeing you dwarfed by quaritch’s bigger and bulkier form stirred something in him.

and, apparently, it did something to quaritch too, seeing as there you are, sat on the colonel’s lap, squealing as he fucks two of his fingers into your sopping cunt.

jake is unable to hold in his ragged groans as he hears the wet sound made by a particularly hard thrust, your juices leaking past thick fingers. he doesn’t know when he stopped feeling jealous that it wasn’t him who was fucking your pussy, and started to feel unabashed excitement at seeing you fall apart because of someone else’s doing.

he palms his hard cock through his tewng just in time to hear you keen, your back arched in that delicious way that always renders jake speechless. the beads of your braids click together when you begin to shake your head, raising your hand to wrap it around quaritch’s wrist.

“my’lus, close! ‘m close!”

jake laughs at hearing the butchered name of the colonel coming from those beautiful lips of yours that he loves to kiss so much before he flicks his eyes up to meet quaritch’s glare, the heat behind it absolutely cooled down seeing as he cradled the love of jake’s life – the very person that quaritch loves above all.

“don’t you tease my cupcake, sully. if she calls me ‘my’lus’, i am ‘my’lus’, aren’t i, princess?” he coos at you, as though his fingers aren’t digging into your cunt and rubbing along your heated walls, crooking them just right as his thumb flicks at your hardened nub.

all you could do was whimper, batting those pretty lashes up at quaritch as though your tears could soften the man into giving you what you needed. quaritch just grins, winking, and you let out a pathetic little sniffle that peters off into a choked moan when he just thrusts his fingers into your cunt again.

jake shucks off his tewng, impatiently chucking the cloth to the side before closing his fist around his pulsing cock. he grunts at the warm pleasure that erupted from finally touching his sensitive length, tightening his fist along the flushed head as he begins rubbing his thumb across the leaking slit, causing shivers to rack his body.

he doesn’t realize that he’s closed his eyes until he physically has to peel them open, needing to see you be stuffed by quaritch. expecting to only see the way your eyes would roll back to your skull, overwhelmed by the teasing fingers taking you apart, electrical euphoria seizes him when he meets your teary gaze instead.

miles’ other hand cupped your jaw, forcing you to prop your head up and watch as jake fucked his fist, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

“see him, darlin’? y’see how frantic you made him?” miles’ voice rumbles in your ear, his lips ghosting along the side of your face. he stops his fingers, uncaring of your needy whines, and you realize, amidst tears and hiccupped gasps, that he is waiting for you to reply. so you clamp down on your breathy whimpers, keeping your focus on jake, before giving miles a soft nod.

your eyes trail over jake, taking him in. his locs are out of his hair tie, the strands falling to frame his face, giving shadows over his usually-soft features, making them look much sharper than what you’re used to. his lips are pulled back in a snarl, his fangs nipping at them as he loses himself to his thoughts. his arms are flexed, bulging muscles rippling with his every move, and his belly is flexed, making way to show off the abs hidden underneath the slight swell of his stomach.

“y’know what got him actin’ all desperate?” miles’ voice is teasing, like he knows something you don’t. you shake your head, humming in question, breathless as miles begins to spread his fingers again, grunting in delight when your tight walls clamped down on them.

“he’s thinkin’ about you, sweet girl. he’s thinkin’ about fuckin’ you the way i do.” miles presses a soft kiss on the shell of your ear as he says this, slowly dragging his fingers out of your heat, pulling moans from your kissed-swollen lips and silencing your heady mind.

it takes a while before the weight of his words sink in, and when they do, you gasp, jolting from miles’ lap with the crashing need to touch jake. to feel him.

you want jake. you want him to press close; to engulf you with his warmth and spear his leaking cock into your cunt. you want his kisses. his mating. his everything. eywa, why is he sitting so far away? why isn’t he touching you right now?

miles chuckles at seeing you pout, dragging his lips across your cheek, but you don’t pay him any mind as your attention is pulled into watching jake’s eyes flutter open, only to hear your heart stutter at seeing what were once pools of vibrant ambers transformed into thin rings of gold.

all because he desires you.

“jesus,” miles growls, bumping his forehead into the back of your shoulder. “goddamn, love. you just clenched on my fingers there.” his fangs nip your skin, and you feel the vibrations of his hums reverberating from where his lips are pressed.

you couldn’t stop the shiver that raced down your body when jake’s eyes snap to your cunt at miles’ words, his gaze zoning in on the way miles is cupping your pussy. you watch the way he studies miles’ palm rubbing against your tiny nub, the other man’s teasing touches turning into something more desperate as though the tight squeeze of your walls on his fingers are translating into a more direct pleasure for him. as though miles could already feel how your cunt would hug his thick cock.

you squirm on his lap, new bouts of tears trickling from the corners of your eyes when miles pulls his fingers out only to slam them back in you again, your back arching from his chest at the familiar numbing ecstasy that miles has delightfully taken to extinguishing just moments before you could tip over into your sweet orgasm. your lips fall for a silent scream, your ears ringing with static.

loppy and delirious from your increasing euphoria, you reach out for jake, wordlessly begging him to come and finally touch you.

jake doesn’t need to be prompted twice.

he clambers to the spot just in front of you, trying to ignore quaritch altogether. but it is futile, especially when all jake can focus on is the consistent wap-wap-wap of the colonel’s thick fingers fucking you oh so deliciously.

you are wailing, dazed and drunk off of your arousal. jake bets that you don’t even know the way you are clawing at quaritch’s RDA-issued shirt, your blunt fingernails catching onto the cloth and causing runs into the fabric.

jake slots himself perfectly into the space between your parted legs and he takes the time to appreciate your toned thighs, dragging his eyes over the expanse of your skin that is shimmering with a thin sheen of sweat. his eyes stay frozen at your debauched cunt, your folds swollen from how much it’s been played with. the results of quaritch’s drawled out edging continue to trickle from your heat, dampening your inner thighs and creating a wet spot in the sheets. jake chuckles at the mess you’ve made before trailing his gaze over your tanhi, running his eyes from your belly, spasming with every ragged breath, to your perky tits.

you’ve been stripped to full nudity, your necklace-top and your tewng had been ripped apart by quaritch’s impatient hands. jake remembers hissing at him, growling from the base of his throat because those had been one of the many gifts jake made for you. quaritch laughed and said, “all the more reason to tear ‘em up.”

despite his initial anger, jake can’t say that he doesn’t understand the eagerness lining quaritch’s actions. they’ve both wanted to touch you for so long now, dancing around like idiots as they courted for your hand, only to end up in this tangled mess.

but what a sight you make, he thinks.

“look at you, paskalin,” jake whispers, his voice a gunshot amidst the melody of nothing but your sweet moans.

your head snaps up to meet his gaze and jake coos when your teary eyes can barely hold the stare, too distracted by the continuous edging of quaritch’s fingers. jake cups your jaw, rubbing soothing nothings on the skin just underneath your lashes and wiping away the tears drenching your cheeks.

“y’r so beautiful,” he continues, folding himself before you to duck his head until you two are lips-to-lips. then, he presses them against yours, holding the chaste kiss, before pulling back just enough that your noses are bumping together.

jake can feel your stuttering breaths against his mouth and he can’t stop the adoring smile that tugs up at his lips. “y’ve got us into a tizzy, sweetheart.”

“teezi?” you ask, struggling with the accent, and only then does jake realize that you’re no longer mewling.

jake dips his head down, curious, and is delighted to see your cunt finally free. he purrs at the sight of your hardened nub, nestled atop your puffy folds. he notes the way quaritch’s hands are holding your thighs apart, spreading you all for jake to gawk at.

“oh, baby girl,” he croons, desire slamming into him. “y’r cunt’s all messy.” he swipes a finger over the slit of your pussy, chuckling when he hears your breath hitching at the teasing touch.

“ma’jake,” you whine, looping your arms around his neck, pulling him close, nuzzling your cheek on his neck. jake hums in faux curiosity, as though he doesn’t have a single clue about what he does to you.

still, he bucks close, his hands wrapping around your itty-bitty waist – not minding the fact that by doing so, he can feel quaritch’s abdomen pressed to your back – to drag you closer to him. you easily follow, falling to your knees and eagerly crawling to him.

jake chuckles at quaritch’s huff, his smile easing off when the colonel appeases himself by twirling your tail around his hand, gently tugging, coaxing more whines from your sore throat.

“that’s right, baby cheeks,” quaritch murmurs fondly, before he bends over to nip at the tufts of your tail, knowing just how sensitive you are there. he’s rewarded with a drawled out keen, your pretty lashes batting together as you twist to turn to quaritch. your back arches beautifully as you do this, and jake’s hold on your waist gathers strength, unable to help himself

jake rubs at your waist to calm you down, rumbling quiet shushing noises and shooting quaritch a glare. “my turn, colonel. lemme make my baby feel good.”

quaritch huffs, still holding onto your tail, but he pulls back, giving space for jake to move. jake takes it greedily, sliding his hands down to hold your hips, pulling you to his lap. his lips meet yours right away, devouring your surprised squeak.

he feels your hands grip his shoulders, breathy trills of your happy sighs being engulfed by his rumbling grunts, and jake couldn’t stop himself from thrusting his cock along the folds of your soaked heat. the touch sends you buckling on his lap, your lips leaving his as your head falls back for a muted gasp. jake snarls when he sees your pretty neck, and buries his fangs into your skin, nipping. marking.

mine, he thinks. my pretty mate.

“ma’jake!” you moan as you fist his locs, your hips rolling over his cock. “ma’jake, plea- my’lus, nooo.”

the sob catches jake’s attention, his curiosity bleeding past his arousal, and he looks up, thrill running down his spine when he sees the way quaritch’s hands are planted on your pretty tits, his big hands dwarfing the mounds, while his fingers tweak at your hardened nipples. quaritch’s face is pressed on the back of your head, and jake strains his ears when he sees the other man’s lips moving.

“s’right, cupcake,” is what jake hears first. “we’re gon’ fill up that tiny cunt of y’rs an’ make y’feel the stretch. we’re gon’ take turns stuffin’ you whole until y’r pussy can’t forget our shapes.”

jake startles at your whimper, the sound ricocheting within the small space between you two. he tears his eyes away from quaritch – fuming when he realized that he had been swayed by the colonel’s words, his own tail wagging behind him like a goddamn dog in heat, drunk off of his promises – and turns to you.

your wet eyes blink down at him although he knows that you’re not really seeing him, not when your head has you tumbling images of what he and quaritch want to do with you. still, it has jake cooing as he bucks his hips up, purposefully grinding his hard cock along your weeping cunt again.

“that’s right, yawne,” jake murmurs, his voice heady and rugged.

“gon stuff this full,” he dips you down to his cock when he murmurs this. he snarls when you nod, soft giggles creeping from your lips when you notice the desperation in jake’s voice.

“y’love that, princess?” quaritch asks, covering your back with his bulk again, his greedy hands coming up to press your tits together, making the two of them salaciously hum at the cleavage your tits made.

you nod, sighing, nuzzling your head back onto quaritch’s chest.

jake clicks his tongue. “use y’r words, paskalin.”

“yes, please,” you finally utter, and jake’s heart thuds in his chest at hearing how ruined you sound.

“there’s my girl,” quaritch drawls out, sounding just as intoxicated as jake feels.

miles diligently holds your legs open, watching with bated breath as jake gently slides his cock into your wet cunt. he can feel your heaving chest as you continue to watch jake claim your tight pussy for the very first time, noting the way your breath hitches at the possible sting, and miles distracts you with the teasing touches he glides across your dewy skin.

“shh, princess,” miles whispers, nipping the shell of your ear. “didn’t i promise that i’ve got you?”

you nod, a broken little thing, and miles feels pity rise amidst the curl of arousal burning underneath his skin.

he shoots jake a glare. “damn it, corporal. fuckin’ take it easy.”

jake snaps his golden eyes up at him – the eyes of a predator, miles thinks – growling, and miles raises a brow at the incredulity of jake’s sudden possessiveness. rearing his head back, he lets out a responding hiss, letting go of your perky tits to wrap his arms completely around your chest.

there is a pregnant pause, the two of them posturing against each other, before a quiet action draws their attention back to you.

your head is tilted to the side, bearing your neck, and from his angle, miles no longer has a view of your pretty face. that’s quite alright, he thinks, feeling his cock jump from his trousers.

miles doesn’t know much about the na’vi. not their customs or their culture, and he just holds enough knowledge of their language because he loves talking to you. but this? he doesn’t even have to glance at jake to ask what you’re doing. he knows what it is.

you’re fucking presenting to them.

“oh, ma’paskalin,” is all jake says, his voice thick with emotions, before he’s sinking his cock into you all the way. miles growls in appreciation when your back arches, your head falling to his chest as you moan, your eyes rolling back to your skull.

miles lets go of your sides, a hand coming up to cup your jaw as he tips your head further down until he can kiss you. you are too overwhelmed with pleasure to kiss back, but miles doesn’t mind, choosing to suck on your bottom lip instead until it is slick and swollen.

you claw at his neck, broken hiccups being swallowed by miles’ hungry mouth, before he groans at feeling your small body getting jostled. the action is followed by distinct slapping noises and jake’s grunted moans.

miles breaks the kiss and he is instantly gifted with the sweet cries spilling from your lips.

“my’lus!” you squeal, outright sobbing in his arms, and miles roars out a laugh.

jake snarls before you get tugged out of miles’ hold, landing directly on top of jake’s cock, making the whole length of it sink into you.

“my goddamn name,” jake growls, grasping at your hips to bounce you on top of him. “say my name, yawne. i’m the one fuckin’ you.”

miles takes delight in your cock-drunk self, too uninhibited to respect jake’s demands. jake snarls again as he fucks up into your cunt, your leaking slick making the slaps of your skins reverberate wetly.

miles feels himself shiver at the messiness of it all. it’s his turn to watch you get fucked into oblivion by another man, and miles thought that he’d be put off by seeing someone else mating you, but he can’t help but love the sight that you and jake make.

miles strips his shirt and throws it behind him, mentally noting that if it’s clean enough, then he’d want you to wear it. ever since jake mentioned that whatever you’ve been wearing was made by himself, miles began wanting to see you in something of his own possession too.

he unzips his pants, not having any more effort to stand up and strip it off himself completely, before pulling his cock out. he turns to the two of you again, ready to use you both as spank bank material, only to see how jake’s turned into a pure fucking animal.

the olo’eyktan is snapping his teeth at whatever expanse of your skin is presented to him, digging his fangs and marking you for himself. his hands had fallen from your hips and found purchase on your beautiful ass, where he’s got fists full of your flesh while he uses you as his personal cocksleeve, slamming you down onto his cock and then lifting you up until all that’s left is his head, before repeating the delicious process all over again.

miles has to grip his cock to stop himself from cumming when he sees the way jake’s fingers are dimpling your skin, not wanting to waste a single drop of his seed outside of your cunt. he’ll bury all of his seed in you, he promises, quietly moaning to himself.

quaritch is so lost in trying to stop himself from tipping over the edge that he doesn’t notice the way jake manhandles you so that you’re now facing quaritch. jake’s arm is snug around your waist, his other hand circling your neck, as he waits until quaritch’s attention is back on you two.

jake watches the moment quaritch gets a hold of himself, the other man’s chest heaving due to his ragged breaths, before golden eyes snap open to zone in on you.

jake doesn’t even care that quaritch ignored him completely, not when jake knows the sight that you must make: stuffed with his cock, your legs trembling as you hold them apart for your audience to show off your puffy pussy that is currently stretched in an obscene way. jake knows how your face must be wet with fresh tears or the way your lips are swollen from being devoured by the two of them, or how your pretty little tits are perky and flushed, much like the soft curve of your neck that is littered with hickeys.

“jake, more! more, please! i want more!” you beg oh so sinfully, sniffling when jake just ruts his cock into your pussy instead of giving you what you want.

jake clicks his tongue as he tightens his hand around your neck, not really hurting but putting enough pressure to render you speechless. he hums at your silence before turning to quaritch again.

“look how beautiful she is,” jake says, his voice full of pride. “my syulang’s takin’ me so well, isn’t she?”

quaritch nods, and jake notes how his eyes aren’t meeting his nor are they meeting yours. he follows quaritch’s gaze, turning his head to study your body, roving his gaze across the expanse of your beautiful self, before finally stopping at the skin just below your belly.

fucking hell.

“her pussy’s snug, ain’t it?” quaritch asks, rhetorical and sounding too far away like he doesn’t actually give a shit about holding the conversation.

jake can’t blame him. if he wasn’t the one tasting you, he’d be just as drunk at the image you paint. his hand leaves your waist to slide down your belly, before stopping directly on the taut skin of your womb.

“look how far she’s takin’ me, quaritch,” jake whispers reverently, before he presses his lips on your shoulder. “she got me nestled all the way here.”

jake taps the bulge that’s formed in your belly, and quaritch chokes on his words, unable to stop himself any longer. his fist rocks down his cock again, trying to alleviate the itch pooling in the pit of his stomach.

you hiccup, lifting your lither hand to rest on top of jake’s and jake croons, softly nuzzling his cheek on your shoulder. his touch is tender, like he’s not moulding your cunt to remember his shape.

“m-ma’jake,” you stutter, your legs squeezing close when jake rocks into you again. “i want-” a sob breaks your words. “ma’muntxatan, please, i want more.”

quaritch growls, creeping closer upon hearing your words. “he ain’t your only mate, princess.”

miles pinches your chin and you blink up at him with a soft sniffle. he taps your lips, remaining quiet, and you want to call for him and beg him to touch you. but all thoughts fly away when jake lifts you up just enough that the slow drag of his cock is torturous, your walls spasming around his length as though trying to stop him from sliding out.

you grip miles’ wrist, using him to tether yourself, and as you do so, you almost miss his words.

“come on, baby,” miles murmurs, his hand leaving your chin to scruff you by your nape. “open y’r mouth for daddy, yeah?”

you purr at the familiar nickname that falls from his lips, the very same one that danced on your tongue, in the privacy of your hut, when you’ve learnt what it meant for the tawtute.

“fuck, quaritch,” jake murmurs from behind you. “she jus’ squeezed me.”

miles laughs. “is that right, sweetheart?” you feel him pushing you to your elbows, gentle as jake continues to hump at your pussy. “you wanna call me ‘daddy’?”

you lick the back of your teeth, going shy all of a sudden, but jake’s hand rubs soothing nothings on your back, as though coaxing you to murmur your agreement.

“yes, daddy,” you readily say, peering up at quaritch through your lashes. you clear your throat, parting your lips only to gasp when you feel jake’s cock slide out of you completely.

“ma’jake, no!” you cry, twisting, but his hands on your back stop you.

“jus’ a temporary change, baby girl,” jake reassures, chuckling to himself softly.

miles takes over, grasping your flushed cheeks with his big hands and urging you to turn to him. you gasp when you are faced with his thick cock, your throat going dry at the size of it.

“remember when i told you we’d stuff you full, sweetheart?” he asks, grunting when the soft puffs of your breath tickle his sensitive length.

you nod, humming, not breaking your stare at his beautiful cock.

“well, would you open y’r pretty mouth for daddy?” miles presses his cock to your lips as he asks this, the leaking head tainting your swollen lips with his tangy taste.

you can’t help the way your tongue juts out and swipes at the sensitive flesh, your arms wobbling when the taste of miles explodes on your tongue. you don’t utter anything anymore as you part your lips as wide as you can before wrapping them around the head of miles’ cock. it is thick and heavy, but you are resolute to tasting it all.

“gentle with your fangs, princess,” miles murmurs, and you hum around a mouthful, relaying to him that you’ve heard him well. the action has him fisting at your braids, hisses spilling from his curled lips.

“motherfucker!”

you pause, nervous, but miles doesn’t sound angry so you return to swallowing as much as you can. as you do so, you feel jake’s hand spreading your folds apart with his cool fingers, sending jolts of pleasure dancing across your skin.

you try to lift your head up from miles’ cock but find yourself unable to as miles holds your head in place, his grunts ramping up in volume.

in contrast, jake is quiet as he lines up his cock before the entrance of your cunt again. this time, the slide isn’t slow as jake slams all the way in.

you moan around miles’ cock, seeing your vision blurring at the explosive pleasure that overtakes all of your sensitive cores. miles curses from somewhere in front of you before more of his cock slides into your mouth, the head of it bumping the back of your throat.

your arms go weak and you almost collapse, had it not been for jake pulling you to his chest, his face burrowed on the crook of your neck. he snaps his hips forward, bucking, and it makes miles’ cock slide further down your throat.

you are delirious from the pleasure, your lungs constricting from the overpowering mating capabilities of your two mates. distantly, you feel drool sliding past your stretched lips, as well as the stinging of your ass as jake’s pelvis continues to slap it with the force of his thrusts.

“y’r takin’ me so well, paskalin,” jake croons, his lips roving over your marked neck. “my sweet girl, y’r pussy’s made f’r me, isn’t it?”

you mewl, trying your best to tell jake that yes, you’re his. you’re theirs. but the garbling sound makes miles buck forward, fully burying himself down your throat. before you can get used to his size, he is sliding his cock out, leaving just the head of it grazing your lips, and you blink your teary eyes at him, not knowing what it is that you want miles to do.

miles grins, something that spells danger, and then he is fucking his cock back into your throat. you squeal, not expecting miles’ sudden move or the way that jake thrusted his cock back in your pussy at the same time that miles did.

you go blind for a second, and you feel a spray coming from your heat, drenching your and jake’s thighs. you do not know what the word for it is – you feel yourself coming down from something akin to a high – but both jake and miles moan at the sight of your leaking cunt, rendering them into a frenzy.

“fuckin’ knew y’r a squirter, sweetheart,” miles growls, his ragged voice slicing through the white noise in your head. “i’d want that on my tongue, next time.”

jake groans, the sound pressed onto your shoulder blades. “she’d look so good sittin’ on our faces,” he says. “she’ll cry so prettily but she won’t leave because my baby girl’s a fuckin’ slut, aren’t you, love?”

you can’t reply, too dizzy with the overlapping scent of jake and miles, the two of them complimenting each other. miles grunts in agreement with whatever jake muttered.

“she’s gon’ beg so prettily – battin’ those pretty lashes, callin’ me ‘daddy’,” quaritch smirks.

jake howls, his hips stuttering as he buries himself all the way in your cunt, making your belly bulge once again. you sob at the feeling of being stuffed to the brim, your walls clinging onto his length, still so unused to it even after all his teasing.

“gon’ breed you now, yawne,” jake murmurs, his words slurring like he’s drunk. “gon’ bury my seed in you. you want that, won’t you, my love?”

jake isn’t even done talking when miles pipes in, his thumbs rubbing soothing nothings along your cheekbones. “swallow carefully, princess. daddy doesn’t wanna see you choke.”

then, he stuffs your throat with his cock, the rough fabric of his cargo rubbing against your chin. you whine when it becomes too difficult to breathe and miles murmurs his apologies, sliding out just enough until you are not smothered.

explosions of heavy warmth fill you up and you squeal, not expecting the gushing warmth that settles in your belly. jake croons at you throughout, murmuring how good you are taking them, how beautiful you would look swollen with their seed. miles remains quiet, choosing instead to watch as you carefully swallow his seed just as he instructed.

he boops your nose when the last of it is gone.

miles is the first one to pull out, his cock leaving your lips with a distinct ‘pop’. you cringe at the tangy taste remaining on your tongue and miles just huffs, swiping at your bottom lip before he’s pulling you up from your elbows and propping you on your knees.

jake hisses at the sudden move, but with nothing else to pump out, he pulls his spent cock out of you too. you whimper at the oversensitivity it caused and jake murmurs his apologies, pressing his front to your sweaty back, as though he is trying to meld himself to you.

feeling empty, you collapse in miles’ arms, exhaustion hitting you with its full force. miles hums, pushing your braids away from your sweaty face in his attempts at grooming you clean. jake takes the spot behind you again, careful with your sensitive backside and your limp tail.

there is silence as you catch your breath, trying to ignore the feeling of jake’s seed slowly seeping out of your heat. miles settles on your other side, pulling your head so that it is pillowed by his arms. you smile at him in gratitude, unable to use your throat.

it takes a quiet moment until miles murmurs, “lemme taste y’r cunt next, princess.”

#suns.f #jake sully x reader #miles quaritch x reader #jake sully x reader smut #recom miles quaritch smut #atwow smut #jake sully x na'vi reader #jake sully x you #miles quaritch x you #jake sully smut #dilf jake sully #quaritch smut #suns #on my knees hoping that you guys would love this #i was honestly so excited writing it but i fear it wont slay bc im on vacation high fr

963 notes · View notes

kayimx · 1 year

Text

One ass slap a day, keeps the horny away.

It literally has such a good shape like it's PERFECTLY round, thick and it literally asks you to bite into it

If I had a dick I'd fuck him doggy style to get a sight of that ass the entire time

#atwow #miles quaritch #avatar the way of water #atwow quaritch #recom quaritch #I love me some fat ass on men

1K notes · View notes

cuethediscoandthedrinks · 1 year

Note

Oral fixation with Tonowari!!!

Suckling on his fingers, on his nips (anything you can get to really) because it soothes you

Then there’s oral cockwarming for when you’re extra needy!: You’re all worked up and just want something to suckle on, so Tonowari just lays your head down on his big beefy thigh and let’s you suckle on the tip of his massive dick

that sounds heavenly ngl

tonowari x oral foreplay hcs ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡☾ ﾟ｡⋆

• his big squishy thighs, all relaxed and blue legs splayed out for you to nuzzle up against - "..ah, um'ma my girl..up here, come come.." as he uses one of his big wide hands to caress your smaller face;

• tonowari'll softly squeeze your cheek as he beckons you close to his toned stomach, initially assuming you just wanted to lay in his lap; but once you let out a little needy whimper, big luminous eyes locking onto his bright blue ones, he'll start to catch on

• he may let out a little *tssch* through a small smile as he observes your movements, your hand reaching forward to undo his loincloth. it'll come undone easily due to the weight of his heavy shaft and balls of course - licking your lips, you'll slowly drool long strings of spit onto his sack, using your left hand to lift up his length, and right to cup and slightly fondle his balls

• tonowari's head'll tilt back, softly cooing in anticipation at your innocent yet lewd movements. his cock is gorgeous, but big. in proportion to his already large and wide frame, even when soft he bulges and jostles underneath the cloth as he walks, or bends over

• it's completely distracting, but having caught your lusty gazes many a time, he now makes extra effort to sit wide-legged, or have an especially bouncy gait for you as he carries supplies or completes tasks around the campground

• but lying here now, cheek smushed up against his pelvis, your warm pink tongue sloppily lapping at his fleshy, bulbous sack, it only reiterates the size difference. barely able to fit even half of his balls in your mouth, you opt to just smear your open lips and tongue all over the soft blue swells

• as you do, you continuously drool and slobber all over them, the small circular motions of your tongue and gentle suckling of your lips coaxing the most gorgeous, wanton chesty groans from tonowari;

• "..hh-uugh..mmmhm..unngh um'ma..s-suck harder..more, more please.." he'll groan out - his eyebrows beginning to crease up, upper lip almost sneering in needy pleasure; as his hips eagerly gyrate up into your mouth. his hands have found your way into your hair now, one stroking patterns into your scalp while the other smoothes over the back of your neck

• he'll especially enjoy if you grope his balls too, though; if you cup them, lift them up only to let the soft sack jiggle and bounce in the palm of your hand as you let them drop - only then to use your fingers and apply some light pressure as you grasp them back in your open hands

• tonowari's got such big, heavy balls too - paired with his enormously toned and fleshy thighs, they can't help but be almost constantly squeezed and pressed up against his skin; therefore, he'll take no time in moving his thighs ever closer around your head as he starts to hump his hips up in the air for you

• his long, girthy blue cock will swing and slap against his tummy if you're not holding it, but he loves it that way too tbh. he'll start breathing differently, deeper; his chest heaving up and down in rhythm with his needy, unabashed thrusts. the round of his sack will continue to squish and bounce in between his thighs, as your sucking and tonguing only increases to match his speed

• soon enough tonowari's releasing thick reams of hot, fertile creamy seed all over the pillowed bulge of his toned stomach, dripping down his pelvis to meet your soft lips still slobbering all over his now wet, sticky balls

• the best part isn't even this, though, it's when you slurp up all that warm cum, only to spit it back onto the blue swells, continuing to grope and jiggle his balls as you watch the slick cream dribble down between his thighs, making tonowari squirm all the more.

#all those ballsucking asks making my head dizzy aaaa 🤭😵#but tysm i loved them all #will respond when possible #also enjoy whoresss!#tonowari x you #tonowari x reader #tonowari smut #tonowari headcanons #tonowari imagines #avatar smut #avatar x reader #na'vi smut #na'vi x reader #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #miles quaritch x afab reader #miles quaritch smut #colonel quaritch smut #avatar recom quaritch

1K notes · View notes

adoreeenina · 1 month

Text

I Loved Her First

Relationships: (Recom! Miles Quaritch x Avatar! Reader) (Past! Human! Lyle Wainfleet x Human! Reader)

Summary: The day Quaritch first saw you, he knew you belonged to him, but then HE came along and took you away. He thought he would have to live the rest of his life on what could’ve been.

What if he got another chance? Another chance to be with you?

(Warning:Explicit sexual conduct. Youngerwoman/olderman. Age gap. Pining. Trauma. Self harm. PTSD. depression, anxiety, fighting, profanity, physical assault, Body issues, mention of past cheating, romantic/sexual tension, insecurities. Falling in love. Redemption arc. Canon deaths (but not really). Romance. Smut. Jealousy. Mention of suicide. Love in first sight. Feelings being revealed. Reader adopted Spider and Kiri. Spider and Kiri are adopted siblings)

(Will update soon!)

Teaser

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

98 notes · View notes

pandoraslxna · 11 months

Text

angy little kitten

#he’s so babygirl #the nose scrunch #i love he #avatar miles quaritch #Avatar #atwow #avatar the way of water #avatar memes #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch x reader smut #colonel miles quaritch x female reader #miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #colonel quaritch #colonel quaritch x reader smut #avatar quaritch #quaritch smut #quaritch x reader #recom quaritch

319 notes · View notes

jojo-schmo · 8 months

Text

Metadede Week Day 2: “First Meeting”

I thought working together would be a one-time occurrence

But here we are years later still dancing around each other

Repeating some of the same motions

But their meaning has changed

Song: “Infinity Repeating” by Daft Punk

#disclaimer: don’t put heavy things on your records kids #I don’t think it’s good for it long term #but I just wanted to make the quick video #please don’t yell at me vinyl lovers!! I don’t have a good enough record player to earn your attention!! D:#anyway this song is a hidden beauty in the 10 year rerelease of RAM #I cannot recomment enough that you find your best headphones #turn this song on lay on your back and close your eyes #it might take you somewhere beautiful :)#metadede #mtddweek2023 #meta knight #king dedede #not exactly a regular drawing but I still poured my love into this :)

279 notes · View notes

the-blu-of-the-robo · 9 months

Text

Mansk!

#avatar the way of water #avatar recoms #recom squad #gif dump #recom mansk #avatar mansk #hes here #the grillmaster #funny blue sunglasses man #the original ATWOW meme #i love him #his ears!!!#atwow #he looks so gentle #hes not dead i dont care what the wiki says #like lyle survived getting bonked and thrown off the sea dragon #but Mansk didnt survive having a body thrown at him?#and yes i did see the extended version of his “death”#I still don't think that killed him especially since he was still clenching onto his gun

212 notes · View notes

posrar · 1 year

Text

It’s the voices man

#this bitch grew on me #he looks like an average pitbull enjoyer #i love pitbull #hes so ugly i love it #lyle omg not pitbull #u guys hearing any voices?#what voices🤨😐😟#yall call it a moment i call it a life #hey babygirl what u doin tonight #corporal wainfleet #recom wainfleet #lyle wainfleet #avatar : the way of water #avatar twow #fanart

620 notes · View notes

hotsingledragon · 9 months

Note

HIHI I AM IN LOVE WITH UR WRITINF OMG. especially the most recent request AHHH!! was enthralled when I saw reqs were open!

can u do something with a REALLY jealous miles where he just fucks reader silly or he’s frustrated and takes his anger out on her iykwim? also could u put in an aftercare scene if that’s not to much to ask for, i ADORE how you portray miles as a big softie for his lover and i want more fluff with him

hi, omg, this is SO overdue. i got carried away! hope you enjoy <3

jealous/frustrated miles quaritch

recom miles quaritch x recom fem!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: smut, rough piv sex, exhibitionism if you squint?, biting, tiniest mention of blood, spanking??

Deja Blue celebrates a successful mission in the recreation room. it’s relaxed, just a small gathering amongst the squad, though Miles Quaritch is rarely one to mingle. so he remains posted against the wall, drowning out the squad in front of him. he stares blankly, disinterested at the RDA screensaver on the television that phases through images of pandora’s landscapes and bridgehead city.

but his attention will stray when your twinkling laugh fills the room. miles will watch you in your playfully animated movements and that smile that rounds your cheeks. miles expression rarely leaves a scowl, but it softens in the slightest as he observes you from his post.

you’re just being friendly, it’s your first mission as a freshly recruited recombinant, and you want to celebrate. conversation comes so naturally for you- you’re smiling and laughing and so unaware of the perverted looks Fike, Brown and Wainfleet and are giving you. they’re sharing glances and snickering like children, each of their lame innuendos falling on deaf ears.

when the conversation shifts, miles’ ears perk as fike very loudly makes a crude pass at you. it doesn’t land- there’s an awkward silence for about three seconds before lyle and brown struggle to hold in chortles of laughter, and you can only frown in embarrassment.

now there’s an even angrier scowl cracking over miles features, and he glares at sean with wide eyes that are flooding with rage. if the colonel were a rational man, he would just cut the guy off with a sharp quip and dismiss the whole team for trials. but he’s not, he’s fucking pissed off.

so instead, Quaritch is pushing off the wall, quickly approaching in big strides until he spins fike in his chair. miles snatches the loose collar of his shirt and rears back in a punch that crashes into the left side of his face. there’s an audible crack of bone.

Fike yelps, turning everyone’s attention and the room erupts in shock. in an instant, it goes eerily silent as the team recognizes their colonel in an ill sodden mood.

Quaritch hauls fike closer, looking down on him with teeth bared. he’s absolutely livid, cropped ears pinned against his head, his tail high and thrashing behind him.

“i don’t wanna hear none of that shit comin’ out of your mouth ever fucking again, private.” quaritch hisses at the soldier before knocking him back. fike is dazed, cradling his broken nose as he flops into the rolling chair. miles turns, looking over the squad.

“every single one of you fucks needs t’find something better to do than running your god damn mouths. dismissed!” quaritch barks at the team, sure to make eye contact with the three offenders.

you move to file out out of the room with the others when the colonel catches your arm, completely halting your steps.

“not you, corporal.”

his grip on you is tight and unrelenting, pressing so firmly into your flesh that you think it might even bruise. your eyes flicker to meet his gaze, a furrow to your brow

miles is already looking down on you, harsh and fierce. he’s so visually striking up close, eyes glowing and features downturned a deep frown

you blink at him and lick your lips nervously. you recover quickly, nodding curtly with your eyes lowered. the colonel doesn’t let go even as the automatic doors quietly hiss shut.

the air is silent for all of three seconds before quaritch is roughly pushing your shoulders, forcing you to catch yourself against the large table. he’s on you in a heartbeat, pinning you flatly on its surface. his long limbs capture you easily, and you hiss in frustration. the nerve of him! you thrash under his steady hold, grabbing and kicking at him.

“excuse me! what the fuck?! you-“

you’re cut off as his palm pushes against your mouth.

“y’better watch that tone, missy.” quaritch warns you.

your protests are mumbled as you push at his shoulders and chest, you even lick his palm to get him off you. the colonel doesn’t budge

“y’really wanna do this right now?” his voice raises, eyes piercing into you.

his expression sends a clear message. you take a steadying breath through your nose, silent but glaring.

“that’s what i thought, now shut up an’ listen. flirting with the squad ain’t part of the deal, you understand?” forefinger pointing in your face

“flirting!” you try to mumble behind his hand, squirming in disbelief because you would never flirt with those guys. gross.

Quaritch shakes his head in doubt. “don’t act like you weren’t. y’know you did wrong, n’ now you’ll face the consequence.” the colonel says lowly, his hungry gaze floating from your heaving chest to the frustrated wrinkle between your brows. his eyes flick between yours, capturing the shift from agitation to mild curiosity. he finds the smallest, yet brightest fleck of desire in your amber eyes, too.

miles is replacing his palm with his slick tongue shoving into your mouth. he takes your wrists, single-handedly pinning them above your head and slotting his body against yours. he dominates the kiss, mouth sliding roughly over your own. he even nips at your bottom lip, puncturing the soft flesh. he groans at the metallic taste of your blood on his tongue.

you’re both spread out, bodies almost too big for the table you lay on. miles grinds into you purposefully, half hard and working his dick right over your center. it’s torturous with the layers of fabric between you, and you push your hips up to meet his own, kissing him harder.

miles growls, then he’s rucking your tank top over your chest. he groans in approval when exposing your breasts. quaritch will bite and suck on the soft mounds, marking you. his teeth will sink into your flesh, indenting your skin. the sting of it is followed by his rough tongue licking flatly over the punctures. it’s a stark contrast to his fingers tickling over your ribs. you huff out a breath of air, a small sound you cannot hold in any longer.

then quaritch pulls away abruptly, standing above you.

“don’t move. that’s a fuckin’ order, squeak.” he commands in his deep american drawl.

you can only look up at him with hooded eyes. “yes, sir” you hum. you let your body arch teasingly, pushing your chest out into the chill air and wiggling your hips cutely.

your belly swims with the perceived praise of his chuckles, the sound purring and warm. he’s even grinning, his hands falling to his hips as he takes in every bit of you splayed out for him. his eyes linger over your face, enjoying how flustered you look already with blushing cheeks and eyes swimming with lust. his gaze travels to your chest, your nipples peaked after his sensual assault. then he’s following the curve of your hips, and he’s awfully offended by the rough fabric of those tiny little shorts you wear all the damn time.

his fingers hook into the waistband, pushing to reveal thin lace covering your cunt, adorned with a cute little bow under your navel.

“well, look at you, corporal. who are you wearin’ these for, huh? private fike? prager?” he asks, somewhat teasing you, tracing under the hem before letting the elastic snap against your hip. he won’t admit it, but there is a part of miles that genuinely wants to know. he bites his lip.

you fluster and shake your head vigorously, pouting at him. “no sir… i-i just like how they look, do you like them?” you wonder, a mix of embarrassment and want making you blush to your chest.

quaritch bunches the delicate lace at your hip, and you gasp as he rips it from your body. it stings, chafing the soft skin between your thighs. he smirks as your tail wraps around your calf, a new habit of yours when anxious.

he stands to his full height, heavy footsteps echoing in the large recreation room. you’re suddenly reminded where you are, where the walls are mostly glass, and the chances of someone passing by are 100 fucking percent. you panic a little, eyes darting to the sliding doors then searching for quaritch.

“colonel? um, could we make sure the shutters are active?” you hope.

your eyes follow him even if he doesn’t spare you a glance, his own eyes trained past the glass. the colonel’s heavy footsteps halt when standing directly behind you, and you’re forced to tilt your head back and watch him upside down.

he’s looking down at you, cradling your jaw. “you’ll be alright, hon’. now open your mouth,” he taps your cheek twice.

you’re nervous now, a little hesitant as you move your jaw, sticking your tongue out flatly.

“atta girl” miles rumbles, lightly slapping your cheek. his nimble fingers fall to work on his belt. the metal clanks loudly and you breathe in anticipation, your gaze drawn towards the straining bulge just inches in front of you.

quaritch makes quick work of it, humming as the zipper passes over his hard length.

his cock nearly hits you in the face, the way it bobs and stands in front of you. it’s thicker than any dick you’ve ever witnessed, longer too. it’s swollen to a pretty shade of indigo, a healthy pink at his tip. he’s beading with precum, and you watch as it gathers and trails alongside the vein gracing the underside of his cock. your mouth goes dry, and you swallow thickly.

“keep that mouth open, girl.”

you obey, stretching your jaw even wider as quaritch guides his leaking tip to your mouth. he’s soft with it at first, guiding his tip into your mouth and you hum at the salty taste of him. you kiss the tip sweetly, then begin leaving your wet tongue over his shaft.

the colonel hums. “you’re good, darlin’, take some more.” and you nearly gag as his length touches the back of your throat. you recover and find your rhythm, taking more as you bob your head.

eventually miles will be fucking your throat, grasping at your breasts as if they give him leverage to thrust into you.

“fuckn slut, can’t get enough of my dick down your throat, huh?” he growls, sending a series of quick slaps over your tits.

but you’re liking this too much, so he gets mean. he’ll shove inside your mouth, unmoving and letting your throat lurch tightly around his cock.

then miles will begin to touch you. you whine around his length when he pinches your nipples, calloused fingers rolling over the sensitive buds. he smacks the plump flesh of your breasts, and his fingers lightly trail to your soft center, touching your folds lightly before landing a quick slap on your pussy. it makes you jolt, your hips twitch and that earns you another slap.

“i gave you an order, corporal. quit fucking moving.”

and miles just keeps fucking your face. the the feeling’s too much, you’re gagging harshly and pushing your palm against his thigh to slow his thrusts, to no avail. he’s thoroughly using you, and you’re unable to do anything but simply take it. you remind yourself to breathe, trying to bob your throat at the same pace.

“there ya’ go, good girl,” quaritch moans, his syllables drawn out in pleasure. he lets two fingers push through your wet slit, running back and forth from your clit to your hole. you moan around him, and quaritch groans with satisfaction

“you’re so wet, it’s filthy. you gettin’ off on bein’ used like this? dirty girl,” quaritch smirks in a lustful haze. he’ll rub you quick and fast over your clit, making you squeal around his dick.

he’s hunched over you when he comes, letting a groan erupt from his chest. he pulls back to watch his seed slipping past your lips. you’re ruined, coughing and heaving for breath, eyes filled with tears and mouth so pretty and swollen.

“turn and face me,” quaritch would command you lowly. you pick yourself up,

your naked form agile, beautiful, flexible as you sit on the edge of the table. miles stands tall in front of you, eyes running wildly over your body and you watch him expectantly.

suddenly his hands are on you, holding your hips and lifting you off the table and your feet plop onto the cold ceramic floor. then quaritch is twirling your shoulders- pushing your chest against the table. it’s only moments before his dick slides into you, and it’s almost too much. there’s no going easy, just the sudden plunge of his dick into your body. it stretches you wide; a deep, burning ache inside of you. you pinch your eyes shut, waiting for the sensation to melt into pleasure.

“cmon, you can take more than that,” miles taunts. his palm presses right between your shoulder blades, pinning you as he delivers a series of long, deep thrusts. again, you remind yourself to breathe

“that’s it darlin’, loosen up for me. so fckn tight around my cock-“ he grits behind clenched teeth, picking up to a steady and delicious rhythm

his cock keeps pressing into that sensitive spot that nearly blinds you with pleasure. your eyes roll into your skull and you whine pathetically

“those virgins wouldn’t know what to do with you-“

miles’ abdomen presses against your back, leaning over you and biting the elongated cartilage of your ear. his hand takes your hip, angling you to take him even deeper and it makes you cry out, squirming under him.

“-wouldn’t know how to fuck this little pussy,” he mutters, his cheek presses to yours. you’re whimpering with every deep thrust, his cockhead ramming into your quivering insides.

miles tongue curls to catch the salty tears spilling over cheeks, caught in the feel of your tight spongy walls and the sweet sounds that fall from your parted lips

“workin’ me up, baby. gonna make me come inside that tight cunt-you want that, huh? want me to fill you up?” he growls into your ear, gripping your hips tighter.

you try your best to nod, cheek pressed into the table and hiding your whines behind your bitten lips.

“none of that, now. lemme hear you.”

then miles fingers are stuffing below your hips, smacking your clit before rubbing tight fast circles over the sensitive bundle.

your drawn like a bow with its arrow ready to fly, muscles quivering and aching for sweet release. your pussy is so tight around quaritch, locking around him to a point where he can no longer pull out of you, can only grind deeper into your slick heat.

“damn, kitty, you’re fuckin tight! you gonna come?” miles asks you mockingly, slowing his circles on your clit to match his lurid thrusts.

“yes sir!” you whine, broken moans clawing out of your chest

miles’ cheek presses to yours again. “tell me how good it is. tell me how good i’m fuckin’ you n’ how bad you wanna come.”

“s-so good! sir-i’m coming!” your sentence choppy with your cries of pleasure.

the bow inside of you snaps, and you scream with pleasure as you’re flooded with the hot sensation unfurling in your belly.

“that’s it, sugar, there ya’ go.” quaritch moans. your orgasm lasts so long, drawn out as miles keeps pushing into your cunt at a wild, fiery pace. he continues to rub across your clit, pressing harder when you attempt to squirm away

“i’m the only one allowed to have you like this, got it, squeak? no one else.” the colonel grinds behind his teeth, beginning to lose his rhythm as he fucks into you.

you can only cry out, your voice raw from the pleasure miles draws out of you. you’re shaking with overstimulation, letting these poor little whimpers fall from you plump mouth.

“shit! go on, honey. let everyone know who you belong to. you’re mine, now,” quaritch grits out. his grip on you is bruising, thrusts growing erratic as he chases the ache in his lower abdomen.

miles begins to let out his own breathy moans, rocking into you until he’s buried to the hilt. he grunts with a last few thrusts, and you whimper weakly at the feel of his cum spurting inside of you.

—

his body covers yours entirely, heavy as he comes down and settles his forehead between your shoulders. you slump against the table, hiccuping to catch your breath. quaritch is no better, breathing heavily against your back. you feel the tired ache through your body, and you’re grateful when miles pulls out of you. miles lifts himself, still holding your hips.

quaritch takes a moment to admire your form slumped against the table. your eyelashes are wet with tears, cheeks flushed and swollen mouth taking in stuttering hiccups of air. your hair is disheveled, bangs sticking to your skin and his eyes follow the braid that twists down your back. he follows the taper of your waist to your plump bum, and he can’t help but reach and squeeze at your flesh. he spreads you, watching his cum leak from your hole.

he notices your wobbly knees, smirking to himself. he finds your shorts, sliding them up your thighs and to your waist. he pulls your top to cover you properly, scoops you up in big arms and carries you towards the lounge

his hand splays across your back as he walks. “did good, kid, took it like a champ.” he settles into the cushions, pulling you across his lap. you tuck yourself into his chest.

“m’sorry if i was a bit rough on ya,”

there’s a beat of silence, until he finishes with “y’seemed to like it though,” he quirks, brows raising and letting out a dry chuckle that reveals his pink tongue and sharp canines.

you snort and roll your eyes playfully, hiding your face in his shoulder. he’s glad to see your reaction, he laughs and plants a kiss on your hair before resting his head on top of yours, cheek presses against your soft raven hair

you’re both silent for moment, your eyes flutter tiredly as miles’ fingertips run back and forth over your thigh.

“goddamn dickheads, let ‘em try sayin somethin’ stupid like that again. i won’t be so nice. fuckin’ morons,” quaritch grumbles, pouting.

notes: OH MY GOD. i’m so sorry, this is long overdue! ive been in a huge personal transition- job promotion, moving, all the things! and i wanted to do you justice with this request. i tend to characterize miles as a little softer than he actually is, and i hope i captured him a bit better this time around! hope you enjoy sweet sparklingenvy. always happy to see you in my inbox!

#miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #recom miles quaritch #miles quaritch smut #avatar 2009 #atwow #atwow smut #miles quaritch x reader #my work #i love requests!!!#send me more!!!!#avatar the way of water #avatar miles quaritch

176 notes · View notes

truetogaia · 1 year

Text

Random Lyle Wainfleet headcanon

His favorite food is a large, oily, AMERICAN sandwich, or toast. Im talking 30% cheese, 30% ham and a shit ton of OIL RAAHHH!!! 🦅 He is a true American dad, wearing sunglasses on his forehead and all. He is kinda greasy but its okay because its Lyle.

#lyle wainfleet #recom lyle wainfleet #recom squad #recom group #recoms #avatar 2009 #avatar pandora #avatar twow #avatar fanfiction #james cameron avatar #idk random thought #my boy likes his toasts with extra cheese and oil #RAAAHHHHH #FOR AMERICA #avatar way of water #i love the recoms

31 notes · View notes

screechingchaoscrusade · 1 year

Text

Trying to get my anatomy in lol

Drawing quaritch has been my daily routine for months now idk what to do anymore I'm going feral 🤭🤤

PLS I NEED IDEAS ANYONE GOT ANY??? I'm so stuck and I need motivation I'mma poop out more spider n quaritch drawings hahahah

#colonel miles quaritch #colonel quaritch #stephen lang #bbg quaritch #avatar #atwow quaritch #miles quaritch #papa dragon #o wee mama 🤭#i love him sm #muscle man 💞#i cant get over him #quaritch smut #recom quaritch

479 notes · View notes

shu-box-puns · 9 months

Text

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

(Tsu’tey x Reader)

Last Chapter <- Part 2 -> Next Chapter

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

Summary: The na'vi say, every person is born twice.

Word Count: 9035

Reader uses they/them pronouns.

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

Mo’at allowed Tsu’tey to stew in her tent until eclipse. And for that, he was grateful.

He couldn’t stomach the idea of facing the clan right now. Or Jake for that matter. Eywa, he hadn’t lost his temper that badly in years. And now he was drained. His eyes stung and his shoulders heavy. All his thrashing had upset the carefully applied mourning paint weaving down his body, which he would have to fix soon. But only when he had the strength to move.

The demon wearing a warped replica of his mate’s face still taunted his most recent memories. Anger still curdled his stomach, but it was not as hot now. More subdued. More aimed at whatever unnatural methods the Sky People had used to create it.

Groaning to himself, the Olo’eyktan dropped his head back into his hands, fingers pushing at the pain between his eyes. Failing to relieve the ache.

Why was this happening to him? To his People? Had they not suffered enough the first time the Sky People had invaded?

First the stars fell and the Sky People returned, forcing the Omaticaya clan to leave their new village and retreat to the floating mountains. And now long dead ghosts were appearing in the forests, attempting to steal his son. The bastards.

Mo’at cleared her throat, the rustle of the curtain signalling her return from dinner. Jerking his head out of his hands, Tsu’tey frowned at the flakes of mourning paint that had come off from the rubbing. Absently, he wiped the evidence on his thigh, eyes straying to Mo’at as she strutted over to him. His ears pinned guiltily at the leaf of food she presented like a peace offering.

<”Thank you, Tsahik.”> He whispered, taking the food from her with shaking hands. Even that was draining.

The woman merely dipper her head in acknowledgement, choosing not to comment when he obediently lowered the food into his lap but did not dig in. Even the thought of eating at a time like this turned his stomach. He felt too raw to act like nothing had happened.

Mo’at seemed to know, she always did, and turned her back to him, relieving him of her usually piercing gaze. With the wisdom of her station, she kept her options to herself as Tsu’tey stewed, instead choosing to kneel beside the low fire. Sparks spat and hissed as she added more kindling, watching the tongues of fire leap and grow before she added some larger twigs.

There was that set to her shoulders, the tell she had passed down to Neytiri when she wanted to voice her opinion but did not want to force someone’s hand. When she wanted to allow them to figure it out first, or start the conversation. Mo’at was a good Tsahik because of it.

She had been kind in the years following his mate’s death. Supportive of Tsu’tey’s grief whilst practically taking over leading the people when he found it took hard to roll out of his hammock during those earlier days. She had practically adopted Spider on sight, and had taken to babysitting him whilst Tsu’tey got himself together. He knew he would not be where he was today without her guidance.

<”What is it?”> Tsu’tey finally asked, when Mo’at remained steady in her silence.

The Tsahik peered at him over her shoulder, her expression neutral even if her eyes swam with an untold grief and uncertainty.

<”Speak your mind Mo’at.”> Tsu’tey encouraged. She had never held her tongue before, he would hate for her to do it now.

Mo’at’s tail jumped, before she turned back to the fire, appearing busy. <”Eywa has blessed you with a beautiful gift, you know.”> She stated simply in a tone Tsu’tey could not decipher. A weight clutched Tsu’tey’s lungs in its unforgiving grasp, punching a sad snort from him. He could not disagree more.

Mo’at was not discouraged. <”The Great Mother has returned your mate to you. She is not usually so generous.”> <”That is NOT my mate!”> Tsu’tey growled through gritted teeth, the declaration punching through him with renewed fury. <”That is a puppet. Made unnaturally by the Sky People, not by Eywa!”>

Mo’at turned to him slowly, her knees still facing the fire, but her eyes glowing with a look that mirrored how Tsu’tey felt. <”Perhaps you are right.”> The Tsahik said in a tone that indicated she did not believe he was right at all. <”Or perhaps, this situation is not so black and white. Perhaps not every is as it seems.”>

<”It does not matter.”> Tsu’tey told her dismissively, <”the People would not welcome a Demon back into their ranks.”> He knew he was deflecting, trying to use the clan as an excuse instead of his won turmoil. Somehow, it felt safer; even if lying had always been a foreign concept to him.

<”The People thought they would never welcome a human into their ranks either.”> Mo’at narrated, eyes wistful with memories of a simpler time. <”But now we share camp with scientists. You yourself took a human mate and Jake-Sully walks freely among us. As a clan, we have changed.”>

<”What are you trying to say? Speak plainly.”>

There was a moment of stillness, only disrupted by the unpredictable sway of the flames.

<”I would kill to be in your position right now, Tsu’tey.”>

Any retort that might have been brewing on his tongue was immediately dashed. He could not respond. The tight vice of emotion in his throat choked the words from him.

Mo’at seemed to deflate, her usual spark dwindling. The beads of her shawl clinked softly as she picked up a stick and stoked the fire.

<”Eytukan, has been with the ancestors for fifteen years now.”> She said, and Tsu’tey listened as he always had. Like they always listened to one another when reminiscing on the people that had been lost or stolen from them. <”Eywa allows me time to hold and hear him, but he does not walk beside us. I miss him with everything I am.”>

Tsu’tey winced sympathetically. He shared this pain. And until a few hours ago, he had been in a similar mindset.

Carefully, he set his leaf down to the side and shuffled closer. Resting his hand lightly on Mo’at’s shoulder. She raised her face to the tent ceiling, leaning into his touch and gathering herself. Her back jumped under Tsu’tey’s fingers at her shaky inhale.

Then she turned to him, fully. Her expression was determined. Those wizened old hands clutching his own in their strong grasp.

<”The Great Mother has a reason for everything she does.”> Right now, it was the Tsahik addressing him, not Mo’at who had always been like a mother to him. <”She does not guide without reason. She does not create without intent. For whatever reason your mate walks again, it is of Her doing, and we must honour it.”> <”How?”> <”Return them to High Camp.”> The Tsahik instructed him. <”By whatever means, return them to us. Set aside your grief and be the hunter I know you to be.”>

Tsu’tey could feel himself nodding. It wasn’t acceptance of the situation, but it was an attempt at internal peace. A moment of reprieve, in which he could push aside his personal feelings and hide behind the mantle of Olo’eyktan again.

<”One step at a time, child. You have been angry for so long, it is time to start healing.”>

He was far from a child. The world had taken too much for him to be considered as such. Pandora had sculpted him into one of the best hunters of his clan, had supported him through his grief and grown him into a strong Olo’eyktan.

And yet, it still hurt. The dull pain that used to be background static in his mind had been yanked forward. The battle worn scar harshly slashed open to allow fresh waves of pain to hurt him as if nothing had changed. As if time had not dulled the pain and made him more resistant to it.

It felt like a betrayal when his eyes flickered down to his wrist. To the brown beaded bracelet that had once been worn as a choker, partially hidden by his wrist guard.

Tsu’tey’s ears rose tall as hurried footsteps rapidly approached the entrance to the Tsahik’s tent. The woman in question perked as Jake-Sully shoved his way into the tent, Neytiri piling in not a moment afterwards.

<”What is it?”> Mo’at demanded, rising to her feet before Tsu’tey could gather his barings.

<”It’s Neteyam.”> Jake-Sully blurted, his hand hovering at the communications collar as he swallowed loudly. <”The kids. All of them went with him to deliver the recom to a safe location-”> <”Spit it out!”>

<”The kids lost them. They slipped away.”>

Mo’at shifted uneasily, all earlier tenderness swept away in her agitation. <”And? Quickly now, I know that is not all. We know the recom did not intend the children harm.”> Jake-Sully was breathing too hard to continue, so Neytiri jumped in, her panic evident. <”There are more Demons in the forest. Sweeping the undergrowth.”>

Tsu’tey was on his feet before she had finished, in a heartbeat, his bow was in hand and he stepped out from behind Mo’at. His previously dormant anger was bubbling again, making it hard to speak as he rounded the fire and strode confidently for the tent’s entrance.

The Tsahik grabbed his arm before he could leave. <”I See your pain, child.”> She reassured him, <”but do not allow it to blind you. I trust you will return with everyone in one piece.”>

He nodded, words beyond his grasp, and she let him go.

Jake-Sully fell into step with him, Neytiri falling into a brief conversation with her mother before following them to the ikrans.

<”Is Spider with them?”> Tsu’tey croaked, to which Jake-Sully nodded glumly as he paused to check his ammunition for the gun slung off his shoulder.

<”What is the plan Olo’eyktan?”> <”Retrieve our children. Kill any of them that try to stop us.”> Judging by the dangerous grin Neytiri shot him, she whole-heartedly agreed with his plan.

>_<

The moment you got an opportunity, you slipped away.

With the shock of what had just transpired turning you numb, it was easy to slip into marine-mode as your old comrades used to refer to it.

Tuning out the bickering of the children - the children being all of Jake and Neytiri’s brood who had stealthily followed Neteyam’s ikran, much to the older boy’s annoyance and Spider - you made a swift and clean escape. Or at least, as clean as an escape can be when your wrists are bound and you’re trying to abseil down the side of a very tall tree using nothing but a vine and core strength.

<”I told you three to remain with the clan!”> Neteyam groaned in exasperation, to which Lo’ak immediately responded with something sarcastic and whitty that earned him another growl from Neteyam.

Their voices quickly grew muffled the lower you got, only their ikran paying you any attention with their weirdly intelligent eyes. Thankfully, none of the kids were still bonded to them, so the mounts noticing you didn’t automatically make the children notice you.

Within moments, your toes were touching down on soft grass, and you were another step free. Your chest twinged at the thought, as you reluctantly recalled the expressions of the People. The same People you had thought to be your salvation, only this morning. Many of their faces you recognised, despite the clear ways time had changed them, but many you did not. Regardless of all your training, your ears still rang from the volume of Tsu’tey’s tortured screams, your heart still hurt from the hatred in which he looked upon your new form. Stomach twisting, you thought of Neytiri’s harsh treatment, starkly contrasted by Mo’at’s weary questioning.

It was clear, they were not the people you had fought and died alongside, but mere phantoms of a past that felt like only yesterday. Despite having been back on Pandora for a little under a week, the events that led up to the burning of HomeTree felt vivid and recent. You could still see the colossal structure burning as your colleagues held their breaths. Could still feel the horrible ache for what the clan had lost.

The rage that had awakened in you only burned brighter as Quaritch threw Grace, Norm and Jake in jail, before turning his sights on the Tree of Souls. It festered behind your ribs as you helped Trudy free the trio. It clawed at the back of your throat as you watched their helicopter tear across the tarmac before soaring high into the stars and disappearing from view. The rage turned cold as you had turned your back and slipped back into the building and back into Quaritch’s good graces.

There, you had been called into the Colonel’s office and told - alongside your squad - about Project Phoenix. You had been hungry for knowledge that could aid the People then, and you had gladly signed the contract and slipped into the link unit, already planning on which coordinates to send Trudy to pick you up from.

And that was where your previous memories ceased.

The evidence of that decision manifested itself in your blue skin and sudden growth spurt. It reflected back at you from the anguished expressions of your loved ones.

What remained of that rage had finally spluttered and died between your ribs when Tsu’tey had raised his knife to you. Whatever spite had fueled your actions and encouraged you to flee Bridgehead had evaporated. Leaving your eyes vacant and your limbs heavy.

That was no longer your home. They were no longer your friends. Tsu’tey was not your mate. And whatever relationship you had had with Spider was not long dead and gone.

You were not the person they grieved, but a living phantom. A sick figure of the past who should have remained there.

<”Oi, you!”> Lo’ak’s voice echoed between the tree, startling you from your spiral. Stupidly, you turned your head skywards, to find all five children staring down at you in confusion. <”When did you get down there?”> <”Climbed.”> You very helpfully replied, whilst kicking yourself for getting caught in your head instead of running away.

Oh yeah, you were supposed to be escaping.

In a matter of breaths, you turned on your heels and threw yourself into a run.

<”Hey! Wait!”> One of the children yelled after you, but you were done waiting. You were finished with biding your time. In plotting and scheming just to live. Just this once, you were going to be obvious. You were going to put yourself first and get as much distance from the clan as you physically could.

You could hear them following you in the trees. Cursing and yelling to one another as you wove around plants and chose random intervals to change direction in an attempt to shake them off your trail. The uneven ground was hard to navigate, but your adrenaline high didn’t seem to care. Your body on autopilot.

Every panicked stride taking your cursed existence further and further from the hearts and minds of the Omaticaya. With any luck, you would disappear from their lives entirely.

Their reactions flashed behind your eyelids now, your stomach twisting into tight knots at their expressions. It had been foolish to expect acceptance. To think that you could salvage the wreckage of your old life as if time hadn’t marched on in your absence. These were not the people you once knew.

Jake and Neytiri had a family now. Kids you had never had the chance to watch grow.

Tsu’tey had adopted a child. A human child. He had moved on. Any interactions you had with him from here on out would only reopen old wounds. Best to get away now, before you become a permanent memory instead of a phantom of the past.

You didn’t know where you were going. Just that you couldn’t afford to stay here. For all you knew, you were blindly stumbling into the jaws of your second demise. Perhaps Eywa had a palulukan with your name on it.

You had no knife. No survival gear. No squad.

Even if you wanted to return to the RDA for some stupid reason, you couldn’t. You had seen too much. Walking back into that prison with the knowledge you possessed was as bad as storming into General Ardmore’s office and drawing her a detailed map with one of her fancy pens.

The Omaticaya may not be your family anymore, but you would not throw them to the wolves-

The ground abruptly disappeared from beneath your foot. Your stomach lurched as you pitched forward. Hands straining against their cuffs, you uselessly tore at thin ferns as the ground rolled out from under you and you found yourself hurtling down a cliff face. Grabbing at the undergrowth was futile. The roots were either too weak or the leafed vines slipping painfully through your fingers. It was futile, trying to grasp an overhanging vine or catch yourself on a rock, but you tried anyway, only for the ground to catch you before you could effectively slow your descent.

The impact knocked the wind from your lungs, leaving you to groan breathlessly as you stared blankly up at a cloudy sky.

God, what a day. What a horribly emotional, nightmare of a day. What you would give to go back a week and start over. Better yet, what would you give to go back fifteen years and never sign that stupid contract?

At least your bones were reinforced now, or you would surely have broken several ribs or at least the arm you landed weirdly on. Head thumping back into the moss, you stilled as your eyes caught on an unnatural purple glow emitting from the centre of the bowl of cliffs. Tilting your head back, your throat tightened at the sight of the Tree of Souls standing proudly on its earthy throne, its glowing, willow like vines swaying on a soft breeze.

You had never seen the Tree in person as a human. Only ever in images taken from the skies. Or on the screens of scientists greedily trying to learn everything they could about the tree that lay at the centre of na’vi culture. A site that was sacred to the People. And very much not somewhere you would want to be found, with a pissed off Olo’eyktan intent on landing you a fatal blow.

The thought of Tsu’tey somehow finding you and becoming even more murderous had you clumsily rolling onto your stomach and pushing yourself to your feet. The moss was spongy beneath your sore toes, glowing a magnificent turquoise when you relieved it of your weight.

Heart in your throat, you turned your back to the tree in hopes of finding the entrance to the Well of Souls. If you recall correctly, there was a sloped trail that meandered down into the bowl. Stumbling along the walls of the cliffs, you tried to ignore the unspoken beckoning of the tree. Your kuru tingled at the base of your skull. A current of electricity travelling down the sensitive cord as if someone were trailing a finger down the skin beneath the braided hair.

Some instinct that wasn’t your own, knew the sensation would be elevated if you connected to the Tree.

Of course, because you had common sense and knew nothing about what that would do to your mind, you continued to scan the cliff faces for an exit.

The tingling abruptly cut off when you stumbled across an uneven patch of earth dotted in blooming flowers. Your toes thrummed with something unnatural where they touched the disturbed earth, the moss thinner here, as if it had been disturbed some time ago but hadn’t quite managed to heal.

It was a grave, you realised with a tight bob of your throat.

No, it was a pair of graves. One fresher than the other. Too small to be the resting places of na’vi.

They were human graves. Neatly dug rectangles that the Well of Souls had begun to reclaim and conceal.

There were no headstones. Only names carved into the cliff face at the head of each plot of disturbed earth. The older one carried an inscription that was weather worn, with lichen growing in the grooves formed by a sharp blade.

‘Jake Sully’

Heart hammering, your gaze flicked to the fresher carving. Though old, it looked to have been cleaned recently, unlike Jake’s grave which was on the verge of disappearing like a bad memory.

Your name stared back at you.

It was odd really, to be looking down at your own grave. Knowing that beneath your feet lay the skeletal remains of your human form on a bed of soft brown earth with sun lilies waving about its head. It was weird to know that that version of you lay resting within Eywa’s embrace, finally at peace with no goal for tomorrow and no pinch of regret for yesterday. Ignorant to the fact that everything beyond laying down in the link unit fifteen years ago, every adventure and your glorious demise, was not lost to you.

Who had brought you here? Who had tended to your wound or ailment? Who had prepared your vulnerable body to return be sent Eywa, uncertain if the Great Mother would even take you? Had they laid you to rest beside Jake’s soulless form, under the false hope that it would keep you company even whilst in the cold embrace of death.

More importantly, what had put you here? What had killed you? It had not yet been long enough for time to have dealt you a mortal blow, nor did the diseases of Pandora threaten human forms.

Had your death been dramatic? Cradled in the loving embrace of someone who begged you not to depart. Or had you been alone? Gasping for breath but finding no relief, wishing for the pain to stop and for Eywa to take you already.

The snap of a twig had your ears perking and your mind snapping out of its self-pitying spiral. You stepped away from the graves, tail straightening as you became painfully aware of your vulnerable situation. Booted footsteps echoed around the bowl of cliffs as a lone figure messily descended the concealed slope that led into the heart of the Well of Souls. You expected one of Pandora’s horrors or an RDA machine to explode across the open space.

Instead, a single Recom stepped out from behind a wall of cliff, moving methodically across the moss, his gun loaded and angled in front of him. Your gaze caught on the sunglasses firmly sat upon his nose, leaving you to stare dumbly at him as pure relief washed over his expression. Mansk’s face lit up, ears wiggling as he unleashed a hysterical laugh.

You jumped as the sound echoed around the Well of Souls.

“We thought we lost you!” He exclaimed, picking up his pace as he approached. You tried your best to return his enthusiasm, forcing your tail to stiffly begin wagging as the man approached.

“I got lost.” You chuckled dryly. “Ended up losing half my gear on the way.”

He grinned, wide and toothy. “We thought the na’vi got you.”

“Almost.” You joked, lifting your bound wrists for him to focus on.

Mansk shook his head fondly. “You always were a slippery one.” He mused, allowing his gun to swing back on his strap as he pulled a utility knife from his belt. His movements were confident as his large, five fingered hand gripped your forearm before he effortlessly cut the vines binding you.

You nodded gratefully, immediately moving to rub the sensation back into them. Mansk’s expression was unreadable when his hand fell to your shoulder, squeezing encouragingly. “Let's get you home. I’ll radio the chopper and we’ll get you back to Bridgehead in time for dinner.” Mansk promised as he pulled back, expression still bright. It made your stomach twist with unimaginable guilt. “You’re filthy. Bet you can’t wait for a warm shower.”

You forced a laugh as your stomach twisted with indescribably guilt.

Your disloyalty towards the RDA had never been because of your colleagues, and strongly towards the company itself. Which only served to cover your tongue in something sour at Mansk’s easy acceptance of your presence. Unknowingly, he was attempting to lead a hornet straight back into the beehive, and you were half tempted to let him.

Anger was reigniting low in your belly. Similar to the rage you’d felt when HomeTree fell. The kind of fury that made you want to watch the world burn. To lead the facility to ruin from the inside before letting yourself join it in its destruction.

In truth, you didn’t want to return to Bridgehead with its low ceilings and loud equipment. But what choice did you have?

Na’vi lived in clans to survive. You were a marine, but you doubted you’d last long out here on your own, whereas the other forest clans would no doubt shoot you on sight for your attire.

Mansk unexpectedly went rigid in front of you, hand frozen on his ear piece. Your gaze snapped up to him, reading the tension in his face, the widening of his eyes behind his glasses.

“Na’vi.” He whispered.

“Mansk?”

“Na’vi!” He blurted, abruptly sweeping you aside with one enormous arch of his arm, effectively shoving you behind him before he dropped his utility knife and scrambled for his gun.

Instinctively, you snatched up his fallen knife, but fell short of plunging it into his turned back, by the sight of Lo’ak standing threateningly by the sloped entrance to the Well of Souls. The kid was tense, eyes snapping from Mansk to you, whilst he held his knife by his side, concealing it with his body.

“At ease.” You soothed, hoping to discourage the marine from firing on sight, but Mansk was already shaking his head.

“Fuck no. These things travel in packs, if there’s one, there’s bound to be a whole squad nearby.”

From the undergrowth, you heard Neteyam yell, <”LO’AK GET BACK HERE!”>

Mansk lurched at the order but did not fire. His hands shook but he tried to school his face into something more neutral as he stared down Lo’ak.

Lo’ak who easily said, <”no,”> to his older brother and took another, slow menacing step towards the armed recom. God, all you could see was Jake’s childish defiance in his every movement. The naivety of a child believing they were invincible. “The hell is it saying?” Mansk demanded, his hands shaking on his weapon.

Lo’ak tipped his head up defiantly at his words, before saying in broken English, “you should not be here.”

Mansk jumped at his accented words, body tensing further as he instinctively pressed down on the trigger. Lo’ak barely managed to duck back behind the wall of rock as bullets tore up the moss he’d previously been standing on.

Heart pounding in your chest, you instinctively swung your knife hand up, slamming the hilt hard into Mansk’s temple. He cried out, losing his balance from the strike and falling heavily to his knees and elbows. His gun remained close to his body by the strap over his shoulder.

“Are you out of your mind?” Mansk shrieked, voice kicking up several octaves. “They’re na’vi!” He yelled, as if that was supposed to make you falter. “They killed us.”

“You should not instigate violence here!” You snapped, bending at the waist with all your teeth bared. “This place is sacred.” Mansk opened and closed his mouth several times. His shades had slipped down his nose, revealing large, accusatory eyes. They flickered from your wild expression to the Tree of Souls looming over your shoulder.

“You can’t be serious.” He scoffed. “We thought you’d left all this treehugger crap behind.” “You assumed wrong.” You corrected him, “now put the gun down. Pandora will not take kindly to more ruin of its sacred sites.”

Mansk spluttered at that. “Are you even hearing yourself right now?” He demanded, “they’ve killed hundreds of us. Good soldiers. Good people. I’ve lost so many friends to these fuckers.” “And the na’vi have lost families, homes, territory. The humans aren’t the victims here!”

“Why do you say it like that?” “Like what?” “Like you’re something else.” Mansk blurted, “we’re still human Private.” He argued, tone bordering on hysterical. “Turning blue didn’t change that.” It was your turn to scoff. “Stop being delusional. We signed our humanity away the moment we touched pens to that blasted contract.”

Something seemed to click for him. “You’re one of them.” It didn’t sound like an accusation.

You straightened, knife still clutched tightly in your dominant hand. No words sprang to mind to protect yourself as you glared down at the marine sprawled in the moss at your bare feet. Even decked out in full military attire, he looked more na’vi than human. And you looked even more like one of the People, but not enough. Not enough to blend in with them. To be accepted.

“I am not.” You told him truthfully. “Well you’re sure as hell not one of us.”

“Is that so?” “You’re a traitor.” “Perhaps.”

He barked a short laugh. High pitched and hysterical. He was already shaking his head as he scrambled backwards, putting distance between you, as if your feeble knife would do anything against the monster of a gun currently nestled in his lap.

“How long?” He demanded. You tilted her head in confusion and he sucked in a desperate breath. “How long have you been working for them?” Against your better judgement, the corner of your mouth kicked up. “It was nothing personal.” “How long!” He cut in, still backing away, still trembling. “Have you been lying to me? To our entire squad? To the people who have laid down their lives to watch your back.” You breathed out a long breath. “Don’t think I can count back that far.” You admitted, watching the hope drain out of him at the admission. “I mean.” Another stolen moment to do the maths. “Since before Jake even set foot on Pandora.”

Mansk’s expression shuttered as his fear abruptly melted away. You were familiar with the sight of a neutral mask shutting off his emotions. You knew your own expression mirrored the marine in the dirt.

“Did you get that Colonel?” He asked the air.

You immediately tensed, expecting a bullet between the eyes or for Lo’ak to cry out in pain from where he was still cowering behind the rocks. But instead, Mansk waited in silence, the buzz of a voice over the comms. Jake’s kid was no doubt long gone by now, his curiosity sated by the danger of the situation.

Your gaze snapped to the ear piece still blinking a steady red. Still recording. The marine nodded, expression solemn. Then he reached up and turned the earpiece off.

Movement flickered by the entrance to the Well, but you dared not glance away from the dangerously calm marine. Your slick grip clutched tightly at the hilt of your stolen utility knife as the man adjusted his grip on his weapon.

“Well done on getting this far. You had us fooled” He praised you, voice tight. “I’m sorry.” He said, and you knew he meant it.

“Nothing personal.” You repeated. “I just found something much better beyond the compound.” “I understand.” Mansk promised as he swung the gun up so the mouth glared at your unprotected torso. “But I’m still pissed at you.”

And then he opened fire.

Pain ripped through your right side. Long fingers of liquid fire dragged their nails across your torso, tearing up your dirty tank top, splitting skin. Expression twisted in pain, you gasped as more bullets whizzed passed. You staggered in place, knife dropping uselessly from your hand as Mansk emptied a cartridge of bullets into your abdomen.

Every sound of pain that punched past your lips could not convey the fire that laced your side. It stole the breath from your lungs, causing you to crumble to your knees even as the marine paused to reload.

You hit the dirt hard, knees buckling and slamming down into the moss.

Distantly, you realised that this would be your finally resting place for both your human and recom bodies. Although you doubted anyone would bother to bury this one, you were internally grateful that someone had cared enough to carve your name into the stone of Pandora. A tiny fragment of yourself would remain.

The gun went off again. Firing one, two more bullets before the sound spluttered and died. There was a curse in English. Closely followed by a gurgling sound, as if someone was choking on blood. Then a second twang of a bowstring and the wet thud of an arrow landing.

>_<

Sunlight slid off of your face as you lay on your back, arms limp at your sides and your head lolled back. You could feel vines wrapped under your armpits, securing you to whatever you were leaning against whilst your shoeless feet dragged against damp moss.

<”Eywa, they’re fucking heavy.”> Lo’ak complained.

<”We wouldn’t have to be dragging them if Neteyam had let me kill the bastard earlier!”> Spider snipped harshly, to which Neteyam quickly reprimanded him.

<”We had to make sure they weren’t going to hand over High Camp’s location.”> Spider muttered wordlessly under his breath, whilst Kiri jumped in. <”Stop whining Lo’ak and pull.”> <”I am pulling!”>

Neteyam spoke up, <”Spider is clearly pulling more than you are.”>

<”He is not!”> Lo’ak insisted, and whatever was dragging you along the forest floor abruptly jumped, sending your body into a world of pain.

You groaned. Low and guttural. Everything below your arms screaming in pain.

<”Shit.”> Lo’ak cursed, swiftly followed by the sound of a smack.

<”Idiot.”> Kiri spat, earning herself a half-hearted growl. <”I cannot effectively treat wounds that you continue to reopen.”>

<”It wasn’t on purpose.”>

“God, you kids are bloody loud.” You grumbled, vision swimming as you tried to rouse yourself further.

The sliding motion abruptly stopped as your words crawled their way out of your mouth. Gently, you were laid flat against the forest floor, and a shadow fell over your eyelids.

”You’re okay Zaza.” Spider soothed softly, and small hands pressed down on your forehead. <”They’re burning up.”> The boy reported, anxiety curdling his earlier reassurance.

<”They’ll never make it to the village like this.”> Neteyam whispered, to which Kiri jumped in.

<”We’ll get them stabilised using the Tree of Souls and I’ll clot those wounds.”> <”Can’t you call Dad? He’ll want to know if they’re dying.”> Spider asked.

<”Or help them pass faster.”> Lo’ak muttered, earning himself another smack.

Their bickering allowed you to drift for a while. Mind fluctuating between hearing the sound of your surroundings, to feeling like you had been submerged in a river. Time continued on as it had a tendency to do, even if you were not awake to appreciate it.

<”I’ve let Dad know we’re safe now.”> Neteyam said some time later, bringing you up from the tranquil bubble in which you had been floating. Distantly, you could feel little hands pushing your hair away from your sweaty forehead as pressure upset the wounds in your torso. <”But I think we should give Tsu’tey more time.”> Spider groaned. <”If he takes any longer-”> You drifted off again at Spider’s annoyed tone. The pain yanking you down beneath a sea of endless throbbing. Vaguely, you felt delicate hands fumbling with your kuru. The sensation was odd, ticklish almost as the braid was carefully attached to something that felt alive but not. You felt the tendrils wrap around something warm and pulsing as if it were your fingers knotting into a fist.

Then there was a bright tunnel of pulsing purple light behind your eyes, and you slipped away from Pandora, sinking into a comforting presence. It felt almost motherly, the way your sub conscience held you.

>_<

Slowly, a scene faded into view. In the back of your mind, you recognised it as the compound tucked in the Hallelujah Mountains. The one you’d spent three months sharing with Trudy whilst the three avatar drivers frollicked around the forest.

The compound was the same, but different somehow. The light pouring into the room was dappled instead of blinding like it was at that time of day perched upon the mountain. Grace’s belongings were missing, alongside Jake’s wheelchair and Trudy’s bunk was stripped, her jacket carefully folded and dusty at the foot of the elevated bed.

The scientific equipment had been rolled out to make room for kids toys and a cot. The link units had been ripped out, and in their place, a hammock as long as the room had been set up.

Curiously, you slid a hand along the material, stomach clenching at the sight of large, blue hands instead of the small, human ones you’d been expecting.

Behind you, there was a soft noise.

You turned, only for your stomach to drop at the sight of Tsu’tey sitting cross-legged against the far wall, a respirator hanging around his neck. He looked relaxed, almost content as he leaned against the wall, looking much too big for the small space and the streak of white paint running from his forehead to his chin. The hunter did not notice you watching him.

Smiling softly, he instead watched someone at his side.

You followed his gaze to a child happily messing around with the hunter’s tail. You recognised the kid immediately as Spider from his big eyes and shock of curly blond hair. He couldn’t have been any older than two, sitting beside Tsu’tey without an ounce of fear as he raked stubby little fingers through the hair adorning the tip of the tail.

Neither spoke as they sat in companionable silence. Tsu’tey watched the boy with a bittersweet expression of pure adoration, whilst Spider tested how far the tail could curl and stretch.

You took half a step closer and the scene evaporated.

>_<

This time, human you sat before you with their back to you. You were still in the compound, but it was decorated how you remembered, with the link beds all set out and your military jacket hung on the back of your door. Jake’s wheelchair was still missing, but some of Grace’s decorations still lingered. You could almost smell that ridiculously strong cherry blossom perfume she used to cake herself in, because she forgot to shower between driving her avatar and noting down her observations.

Human you was sat at their desk, pouring over a notebook in which they scribbled furiously. Curious, you inched closer. It was odd how you had to stoop in the familiar space to keep from hitting your head, but you pushed the thought away as you peered closer.

‘I see you.’

The page said. And written next to the English was Na’vi in bold italics.

‘Oel ngati kameie.’

Tsu’tey ducked into the room without warning, startling human you who immediately yanked another notebook over the page they were just writing on.

The hunter chuckled softly at their hurried motions, as he took his time approaching.

You stepped aside as he got closer, eyes catching on the lack of white painted down his face. How the bullet scars adoring his chest appeared more raw; newer. Which inevitably led your eyes to the baby shawl slung across his chest and a wiggling Spider cuddled up to his chest.

<”Your son is being difficult.”> Tsu’tey complained as he lowered himself to his knees beside human you’s chair. What little breath you had was abruptly punched from you, whilst human you simply turned in their seat to smile up at him. Tsu’tey was very clearly pouting, ears lowered playfully.

<”Defeated by a baby.”> Human you joked, leaning in to cup his cheek. <”I never thought I’d see the day.”> Tsu’tey tsked softly, large hands falling to their thighs and holding gently. <”You’re warmer than me.”> He said simply. <”And he sleeps better with you.”>

And that seemed to be that, because Tsu’tey withdrew his hands to carefully pull Spider from the baby shawl. The infant did not go easily. Clinging to everything within reach, from the shawl to Tsu’tey’s braids, which only served to make human you laugh at the pair, as Tsu’tey pouted whilst carefully untangling Spider’s little fists from him. But before long, they had Spider cradled in their arms, his little eyes drooping comically.

<”Lets go to bed.”> Tsu’tey suggested. Human you made to complain, but the hunter was already pulling them from the chair and against his chest.

>_<

The scene shifted to a na’vi village you had never visited before. Instinctively, you knew it was the new clan home, based on the familiar faces milling around. Hidden amongst the trees, you made out various tree houses nestled in the branches, with children swinging from home to home, whilst adults carried out their daily tasks.

Your attention was drawn by a hush that fell over the clan, and several heads turned towards the shadow of the trees at the far end of the clearing. As tall as you were in your recom body, you still had to strain to see na’vi you did not recognise emerging from the undergrowth.

Judging by their attire and spears instead of bows, you recognised them as a clan from a neighbouring territory. The small entourage was led by an older na’vi male adorned in vines of fiery red and gold. Clearly the Olo’eyktan, the man walked through the Omaticaya clan who parted easily for him. He nodded to any who met his gaze, speaking soft greetings.

Tsu’tey and Mo’at stepped forward to greet him, both decked out in their ceremonial attire. They touched their hands to their foreheads in greeting as the visiting Olo’eyktan mirrored the gesture. You noted the lack of white painted down Tsu’tey’s forehead as he greeted the man with an award winning smile. He stepped forward, Mo’at at his elbow as the visiting Olo’eyktan introduced himself.

The man tripped over his tongue as he caught sight of Spider wrapped securely in a shawl across Tsu’tey’s chest. Your eyes bugged at the sight of how small the child was in the open world of Pandora. How his exo-mask looked comically big over his little face, as he absently played with Tsu’tey’s kuru, which the man had pulled over his shoulder for the toddler to entertain himself with.

The visiting Olo’eyktan’s expression was pinched as he found his voice. <”You did not send word that you had adopted.”>

Tsu’tey took the poorly concealed accusation in his stride. <”I apologise, with rebuilding, many things have escaped my notice.”> The visiting Olo’eyktan nodded his head good naturedly, a sliver of his tension easing at Tsu’tey’s explanation. <”This is my son, Spider.”> He proudly explained, grinning when Spider glanced up at the mention of his name.

<”He is one of them.”> The visiting Olo’eyktan commented.

<”He is mine.”> Tsu’tey corrected simply, before stepping back and motioning to a fire that had been set up for the meeting. <”Come, you must be tired.”> The visiting Olo’eyktan nodded his head gratefully. <”It has been a long trip.”>

It was then that Spider began to fuss. Angrily, the toddler pushed away the kuru and began demanding to be held with grabby hands. His fussing picked up as Tsu’tey tried to keep a pleasant conversation going, whilst soothing the child with a hand rubbing up and down his back.

Spider was not amused.

Mo’at, seeing Tsu’tey struggle, decided to chip in with asking the visiting Olo’eyktan about his Tsahik. The man easily followed her change of conversation, explaining how his mate had fallen ill and wouldn’t have comfortably completed the journey in his current state.

Whilst the pair walked ahead to the fire and the clan and visitors disbursed to continue with their duties, your attention remained on Tsu’tey who was struggling to get Spider to settle. His tail thrashed in unease, hands checking the exo-mask to ensure it wasn’t rubbing.

His ears pricked cutely at the approach of someone half his size. Human you was dressed in a simple shirt and camo shorts to combat the heat, they wore a beaded choker at their neck. They padded barefoot across the clearing, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of their lips as they approached Tsu’tey, who was quick to drop to his knee and twist so that Spider could clearly see his other parent.

The effect was immediate as the toddler threw himself away from Tsu’tey, arms outstretched towards you. He only stopped fussing when human you lifted him out of the shawl and into their arms.

Tsu’tey remained on his knee for several more moments, softly watching his mate and child with a look that could melt even the hardest of hearts. Human you noticed him looking and were quick to press a kiss to his cheek and urge him back to his feet.

Dazed, Tsu’tey went willingly, but not before offering adorable words of endearment as a final parting gift.

>_<

The scene that followed was blurry as if someone had wiped grease across a camera lens.

This time, you were not experiencing the event from an out of body perspective, but instead, you appeared to be back in your human form. Every movement the body made was not your own. They were sluggish as if you were drunk or disconnected from your motions.

Beyond the warmth of a tea clutched between your hands, you could not figure out where your human body was. Whether you were in the compound, or within the new village. There was someone with you. A na’vi.

Their voice was smooth as honey, laced with the undertone of something malicious.

Every muscle in your body screamed danger as a large, four fingered hand took the tea from your grasp and helped you to your feet.

<”Why don’t we go on a walk?”> The voice suggested, to which the body you were in nodded jerkily. There was an amused huff, another hand on your shoulder; steering you.

You wanted to wiggle free. Every instinct you possessed screamed that this person meant you harm.

<”Very good.”> The voice cooed, <”Eywa, this will be easy.”>

>_<

The scene shifted. The world was still murky, but this time, your chest hurt. There was someone stood over you. That same honeyed tone. The glint of a blade.

Somehow, you knew you had been stabbed.

<”Now my brother can finally be free.”> Your murderer muttered.

Even as the world darkened before your eyes, your consciousness stalled. A name floated to the forefront of your mind. Knowledge that had seemed irrelevant at the time offered you a face to put to the statement.

>_<

For this memory, you were once again outside of a body. You stood back at your recom height, watching Tsu’tey stumble across your bloodied human form.

He wore no white paint, and was adorned in the ceremonial attire he’d welcomed the visiting Olo’eyktan in. Thankfully, Spider was nowhere in sight.

The hunter unleashed a gut wrenchingly, wounded sound as he collapsed to his knees before your dying form. His hands shook as he bundled them up in his arms, cradling them close. His hair braided with the red beads you remembered from before the war, and his Olo’eyktan necklace curled around his throat. You watched as he cradled the tiny form close to his chest, whispering in na’vi. His voice too low to hear.

Distracted, he unsteadily rose to his feet before taking off in the direction of the clan. Your phantom form easily kept pace, watching him weave through the trees. His head snapping down to human you every few paces.

<”We’re almost there Yawne.”> He promised, clutching them impossibly tighter.

They bled from a wound to their ribs. Not a bullet wound, but a long, deadly slice, deep and angry as it wept. Not the clean kill.

<”Did you kill him?”> They asked weakly.

Tsu’tey frowned, <”who Yawne?”>

Their brow furrowed at the question, but you could see the clarity slipping from their half lidded eyes. They were practically limp in his desperate grasp.

<”Slippery bastard.”> They said bitterly. <”Make sure you take good care of Spider. Gonna miss him.”>

Tsu’tey looked at them tightly. <”He will be back at the compound. You will see him shortly.”> <”Do not let him see me like this.”> They whispered. <”I don’t want him to remember me like this.”> By this, they meant bloody. Broken. A weak voice and a severe lack of strength in their arms. Tsu’tey seemed to understand.

<”Fine. I will wait until I have washed you of the blood.”>

<”Tsu’tey.”> They reprimanded weakly and the man bristled.

<”I am not going to lose you!”> He abruptly declared with the wrath of an Olo’eyktan fueling his words. <”I am going to take you home and you will be healed. And Spider and I will cuddle you until you are well again.”> <”That sounds nice.”> They whispered, voice somehow fainter. <”Can you keep holding me? Please?”> <”I am.”> Tsu’tey insisted, <”I’m holding you, Yawne. I’ve got you.”>

<”Can’t feel you.”> They told him, and Tsu’tey face twisted into something painful. <”Hurts.”> <“I know. I know.”> A sharp hiss through their teeth as a particularly unexpected jerk. <”Hurts!”> <”I know. I know. I know.”> Tsu’tey chanted, working himself up again to the point where panic laced his voice and brought tears to his eyes. He was still running, still returning to the clan with his dying mate in his arms. And even so, he called to Eywa for help. For some miracle. <”Please Great Mother, HELP ME!”>

No response.

Human you had gone deathly pale in his arms. Their fingers shaking as they tried to grab onto his arm guard to bring his attention back to them. Their voice was small when they next spoke. <”Thank you. For everything.”> <”Stop talking like this. You’re going to be fine. Mo’at will patch you up, and you will be running around giving me headaches like usual.”> They hummed and fell still.

Tsu’tey grew distraught before your eyes. Lower lip quivering as he shook them, ears falling flat when they didn’t hiss in pain. His hands shook as he crushed them to him, tail smacking against the nearby trees and he fell painfully to his knees.

The sound he let out shook the heavens. The grief that tore its way up his throat, bursting out of him as he clutched the corpse incredibly closer. Rocking them. Praying to Eywa. Begging her to give them back.

Before you could stop yourself, you moved towards him. He either didn’t notice your presence or didn’t care as the grief consumed him. It tore at your insides to watch him break. To listen to him bargain with a force beyond your understanding.

All you wanted was for the crying to stop. Your hand found his head, fingers slipping through immaculately kept braids. He fell still. Teary eyes slid up your form, catching on your face the most.

“Yawne?” He whispered, sounding distraught and broken.

“You’re okay.” You promise, and his face crumbled. Your human form has disappeared from his hands but the blood remained. And those bloodstained hands reached for you now, twisting into your torn shirt, clawing at you. He looked at you like you were a miracle. Like you were something precious. A stark contrast to the hatred and rage from before. He wound his arms around your thighs now, holding impossibly tight as he buried his tear stained face into your stomach.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered brokenly, hands clutching tighter. As if you’d disappear if he loosened his grip for even a heartbeat. Your hands remained in his braids, soothingly petting through them as he repeated it over and over again.

“Wasn’t your fault.” You assured him. He shook his head, pushing his nose hard into your stomach. Denying your forgiveness.

You urged him out of his hiding spot. Hands falling to cup his cheeks and rub away the tears that spilled down them. You stilled at the white paint that had suddenly appeared down his nose. It was a simple stroke, stretching from brow to chin.

“What does this mean?” You asked.

“It is how I show my grief.” He explained. “How I honour your spirit.”

“I thought the mourning period lasted for a season.” You wondered aloud, recalling the Tsu’tey of the current time, who wore his white line proudly.

“It does.” He confirmed, vulnerable and raw. It made you pull him into you again. Up off of his knees so he towered over you. His eyes were still shining, blood still all over him, but you didn’t care as you pulled him down so his face could tuck itself into the slope of your neck. He went willingly, pulling you to him, holding on tightly.

“I’m sorry.” “You do not need to be sorry.” “Couldn’t protect you.” “You did everything you could have.”

“Spider will be stuck with me. I cannot make him stop crying like you do.” The quiet admission has you pulling back in an instant. “That boy loves you with every fibre of his being. He looks up to and cherishes everything you do for him. He does not blame you for what happened to me. And nor do I.”

“But-” “Stop punishing yourself, Love.” You told him, “please. You can’t keep living like this.”

He stared at you. Blankly. Before suddenly coming back to life. His white paint was chipping before your eyes, flaking away to reveal shining little dots along his brow that trailed down the slope of his nose.

“I will find you.” He promised. And you believed that it wasn’t a threat, but a vow.

Last Chapter <- Part 2 -> Next Chapter

#Recom Reader #tsu'tey x reader #dad!tsu'tey #spider socorro #Son!Spider #when you accidentally find your own grave #betrayal #spiritual trees #grief #acceptance #minor injuries #rip mansk #today i sacrifice mansk to eywa #love you my boy but you further the plot #part 2 of 4

175 notes · View notes