#colonel miles quaritch imagine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whxre-bxby · 7 months

Note

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

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

"Forbidden But Desired"

Recom Quaritch x f. Human Y/N

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

Masterlist

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

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

Word Count: 4383

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His words confuse you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s his job to care of you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head ‘no’.

“Makin’ you mine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

619 notes · View notes

ciaoteamo · 1 year

Text

Imagines with Quaritch

pairings: quaritch x gn!navi reader

summary: conversations between the two as strangers vs. as lovers

warnings: cursing

(a/n): DAMN LOOK AT THOSE TIDDIES

bold words are na’vi

Strangers:

“..why are you here?” You ask the strangely dressed man.

“tew larn” He answers. You almost couldn’t understand what he said, his Na’Vi was bad.

“to learn? You definitely need to work on your speaking” You scoff.

“well help me out a bit” He moves closer to you.

“i teach no one in that attire” You roll your eyes before leaving him where he stood. And he of course chased after you.

Lovers:

“how is it that after all of this time, you still cannot pronounce please?” You ask him.

“ i’m just not a begging man” He replies.

“starting to wonder if you were ever a smart one” You cross your arms.

“smart enough to be your mate” He gives you a cheeky smile, it almost made you grin.

“unfortunately, idiot” You roll your eyes.

Strangers:

“are these really necessary? feels like these damn things are violatin me” He tugs at his bottoms.

“You should be fine” You sigh.

“how do you walk around in this all day?” He asks.

“the same way you walk around with giant guns, armor, and machines.” You side eye him.

He put his hands up in defense. “not me, but them” He corrects you.

“hm”

Lovers:

“(Y/N), you’re not hearin me. just imagine, the full coverage of my ass, it gets cold at times” He raises his arms and give you a 360. He used some leaves to add onto his bottoms.

“i don’t know. it looks stupid” You lift the leaves and pinch his butt and he jumps, making you laugh.

“tch, you know i have a big package to hide” He smirks.

“only thing big about you is that forehead, idiot”

“…ya know on earth, they call that bullying”

“and here, we call it, the truth”

“and here, we call it the truth.” You shrug.

#ciaoteamo #imagine #avatar #avatar2 #avatar: the way of water #colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch #na’vi x reader #na’vi quaritch #avatar imagine #quaritch x reader #quaritch imagine

2K notes · View notes

whereireid · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇 — based on this ask | masterlist

pairing: miles quaritch x fem!reader

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

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

There is nothing that Colonel Quartich misses about Earth.

Nothing but the women.

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

Except the women.

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

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

Anything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You — you can?"

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

"No, Colonel."

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

"Anything."

Quaritch smiles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holy shit, you're perfect.

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

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

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

He's going to have to do this again.

2K notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 1 year

Note

Hi can I request a headcanon with Jake Sully, Neteyam, Lo'ak, Tsu'Tey, Aonung, Tonowari x Fem!Reader where they both tease each other a lot in a cute way trying to get one of them to break first but eventually the men break first by kissing her passionately and can’t keep their hands off her but in a cute way nothing too suggestive please? Thanks 😊

Cute but needy! I will deliver on this for you Anon!

Pairing: Jake Sully, Neteyam, Lo'ak, Tsu'Tey, Miles Quaritch, Aonung, Tonowari x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, kissing, tail shenanigans, purring/growling, cuddling, getting a little handsy, teasing, flirting

A/N: More Avatar fluff tonight. I'm hoping I can finish some fics tomorrow, been slowly getting back into writing them.

JAKE

Jake is more verbally teasing them physically, he likes flustering you with words and compliments. Turns out however that he gets embarrassed when you're teasing him physically, running your hand down his spine, or tracing his ears. Since he is someone who was trained not to give up easily he wants to turn the tables on you by kissing you. Little did he know that when he did that he wouldn't be able to stop, or keep his hands from wandering your body, or his tail from wrapping around your entire leg in an attempt to keep you close.

NETEYAM

He wants to prove to you that you can't fluster him as easily as you seem to think you can. If there's one thing Neteyam can always be expected to do that is live up to a challenge. So that challenge just so happens to require him to kiss you in order to have a chance of winning, seems like a good enough strategy to him. At least it was until you turned the tables on him and he ended up on his back, with you on top of him, straddling his torso and attacking him with seemingly endless kisses.

LO'AK

Now Lo'ak like to tease and flirt a lot but he's not that great and being flirted with. He won't let it show a lot, maybe just in the nervous tapping of his tail but he can play that off as him being excited or happy to be with you. His kiss is very sudden, a response to you teasing him mercilessly, well his kiss is just as merciless, as are his sharp fangs when they pull your lip between his teeth. He considers your yelp of surprise a win for himself, but he's not done with you yet, there's a lot to pay you back for.

TSU'TEY

Since he is better at physical displays of affection towards you he loves to have you by his side, almost in his lap but not quite and have his tail around your wrist while he kisses down your neck. He's not that easy to tease in the first place, simple touches and kisses won't do. Luckily you know that his tail, and the base of his skull are his weak points and make him positively purr for you. Tsu'tey can't have you figuring that out, he needs to distract you. With his mouth and hands, and tail and fangs he starts to explore what parts of your body make you weak underneath him.

QUARITCH

There's no way that Quaritch is letting you outdo him in teasing and flirting. Even if you do manage to find a rare thing that works on him he's got a dozen other tricks that he can use on you. If all else fails he knows that a sure way to shut you up is to kiss you until your lungs burn for air. He ain't stopping just there either, he's got you in his lap, he's got his arms around you, running down your back, your thighs, his lips sucking and biting at places he knows make you sing.

AONUNG

For Anonung, the two of you flirting is like a game. Except there's no clear winner or loser. Ever. Both of you always get what you want from the other, being a flustered mess. Just a matter of time who gets to that point first. Whoever does is subjected to even more teasing by the other. If he really doesn't feel like being the first one to get flustered then he let out a playful growl and will start to slowly kiss your hand, your neck, your cheek, his hand cupping your face, his smile consistent and his mission very clear.

TONOWARI

When he wants to fluster you sometimes all that he needs to do is pull you in his lap. That being said, Tonowari enjoys a little teasing session where you flirt with each other, it's a good way to get each other to smile and relax after a long day. He doesn't last long before his big hands are absentmindedly tracing patters down your back, when his tail coils around you to push you closer, when his lips find yours in a heated fog of both love and desire and need to just have you.

2K notes · View notes

hotsingledragon · 9 months

Note

i have another request. PLEASE

miles fucking his silly little pregnant wife who’s just so needy for him and his touch, poor baby is too swollen to even be able to touch herself so he takes care of her n fucks her nice and slow, overstimulates her until she’s squirming and crying underneath him and doesn’t know what she wants because of how bad she has baby brain :(( miles just loves taking care of his little angel

hhhnnnmnnm

UM..!!! hello you’re crazy for this- because eeeeeeep! miles would totally take care of you during this special time in your lives, in any possible way he can! andYES sweet kitty husband occupies 95% of my brain actually-

miles quaritch x pregnant!fem!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content, smut, pregnancy, obvs there is sex while pregnant, oral, p in v, sweet baby daddy husband quaritch <3

Q would lay you down on the pillows and take you apart slowly, would kiss across your skin and especially your large bump <3 he’s so gentle because he doesn’t wanna hurt you or the baby!

im theorizing that miles would love eating you out; esp while you’re pregnant. i don’t care what y’all say! he would rest your thighs on his shoulders, leaving wet kisses on the underside of your tummy as he trails towards your clit. then his lips are wrapping around it, paying close attention to nerve in languid swirls and suckles. miles loves bullying his head between your thighs, drawing his tongue in wet shapes over your pussy. and when you burst with a moan, your head jolts to look at him, but your bump conceals everything except his hulking shoulders holding you open

he always makes sure you come at least twice 👍 but if you’re not too sleepy or you’re still aroused then he keeps going, loudly sucking you into his mouth until you’re bucking into his face and coming on his mouth again.

sometimes penetration feels like too much; and that’s okay! Q is happy to relax between your legs and fuck you with his tongue, or his fingers. miles draws it out every single time, slowly working you open with a single fingertip, until he’s eventually curling three of his digits inside your stretched little hole.

but there are also times when you need more more more because all you want is for miles to spend his time fucking you open on his dick, your arousal reaching new heights as your hormones are all jumbled up!

i feel like he’s definitely one to tease while you’re pregnant, always blaming the baby for his touch that’s only flirting across your skin, because he needs to go easy on your sensitive body or something like that. when it’s actually the total opposite- he’s purposely reducing you to a whimpering mess for his own hedonistic pleasure. he wants to see that frustration in your tightly pinched features, wants to hear the edge in your voice as you beg for him.

so when you grab his wrist and look up at him with wet eyelashes, whining about how you need more of him-he’s happy to oblige.

miles is the kind to tease you with the tip until you’re loosening up and taking him easily with how slick you’ve become. he thrives on your frustration, the high pitched whimpers and wiggling hips. you look like an angel, you must be an angel, he thinks. you’re so beautiful, and he’s never felt a passion like this until he met you

and now you’re full with his baby? god, he’s so sick with love! he admires every bit of you and how you’ve changed over the months; you’re softer, and warmer, and so much needier. it makes him fuck you that much harder.

you can’t help it, you’re begging for his cum, begging him to give you another baby.

“aww don’t cry, darlin’, i’ll give you another soon enough, y’gotta be patient for me, alright?” and he’s grinning ear to ear, eyes glowing.

“i’ll give you all the babies you want, honey, we’ll have a little litter of ‘em, hm? you want that?” his thrust are picking up to a pace that has you clawing at his biceps and your voice scratching with need.

“gonna keep you knocked up with my babies, keep my little wife full of my cum all the time,” you’re nodding your head fervently and pleading incoherently. it makes him chuckle and he sends a hand to rub over your clit.

“my sweet little wife, love you so much. so pretty while you’re cryin’ on my dick. i’ll give you those babies one day. jus’ need our little girl to come home first. just a few more weeks,” he grins and kisses you. “but when you’re all better, i’ll give you another baby-and another, and another.” his voice begins to strain breathlessly as he quickly approaches his orgasm

his words have you keening and squeezing around his erection. your moans are downright pornographic, and he knows you’re just seconds away from coming. “fuckin- christ!” miles grinds behind his teeth, “tell me where you want it, right now” he orders you lowly, his brow furrowed in concentration in his effort to keep from coming.

“mm!- inside! miles, please! please come inside of me,” you sob, clenching around him , pleading as you gaze right into his eyes. it sends miles burying into your heat and curling over your body, his forehead knocking into yours. you’re wrapping your arms around him, keeping him close and put your lips to his ear

“please give me another baby, miles,” you cry. your touch pets over his velvety skin before cradling his neck and guiding your lips against his.

it’s like you’re in a bubble that miles has curated just for the two of you. he’s covering your body with his own, echoing your sweet noises with his drawn out groans against your lips. he’s shoving his tongue into your mouth, stuffing you with his cock-it consumes every bit of your mind and body and you’re coming with a loud whine, squeezing around him like a vice and he’s immediately following you over that edge, hips flush with yours as he fills you with his seed

he finishes with a deep rumble from his chest, holding himself up by his forearms to keep from totally crushing you. and miles stays like that, buried inside of you as his dick softens and you both catch your breath

you’ll lay together, his head on your chest and your fingertips tickling his skin. when you tap his back with a small sound, miles will look at you, totally relaxed and a grin starting to stretch his thin lips. he’ll kiss you, long and slow and murmur how much he loves you to distract from his cock pulling out, but the drag of it still leaves you feeling empty.

then miles is climbing out of bed, groaning dramatically before he bounds towards the bathroom. “lemme draw you a bath, hon’,” he says. you’re only half awake, eyes closed and humming noncommittally. you listen to him shuffling, adjusting the knobs on the tub, and the scent of your soap wafts into the bedroom.

the combination is relaxing and has your breaths slowing. eventually you feel miles graze your skin, trailing lightly as to not startle you. then he’s hugging you, taking a long breath through his nose as he nuzzles into your neck. “hmm, y’ready?”

you’re nodding your head, and he’s lifting you like you barely weigh anything. he’s so careful and conscious of how he holds you and safely lowers you into the warmth of the water. then he’s climbing in behind you, and some of the water spills over with his big he is.

it makes you giggle, and he’s immediately wrapping his arms around you. “what’s funny, huh? i’m just a man tryna take care of his very pregnant wife,” but you hear the smile in his voice. you allow yourself to lean into him, head tilting against his chest as he gently rubs your swollen belly.

notes: UMMMM okay wow i took way too long to write this, can you tell i’m in love with him? thank you so much for the request! thank you for trusting me with such a prompt as this- hope enjoy my loves! let me know what i should write next <3

#colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch #avatar the way of water #recom miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #avatar imagine #avatar smut #brainrot #request

501 notes · View notes

sunnybeewriting · 1 year

Text

peachy keen.

Hi guys! So I'm pretty new to writing and this is actually the biggest thing I’ve ever written. I watched The Way of Water when it came out and took an immediate interest in this guy, partially because I thought his character has a lot of potential, and partially because I also thought that he was really hot.

So I decided to set up a series of little works. This one is just sort of a beginning to the Reader’s character and Quaritch, and I do plan on writing more about them in the future with this fic as their base. Maybe do some AU’s, maybe just continue the story from here, maybe lead into the movie, who knows!

That all said, I really, really hope you like it! If you do, please give it a like or a comment!

WORDS: 15,000

WARNINGS: Adult themes and language

peachy keen. Part Two.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Your body jerks to a stop just before you can fully trip over your shoelace and faceplant onto the floor. Unfortunately, the leftover food on your plate could not say the same, jostled just enough that it went flying from your hands and onto the tiled floor of the mess hall.

You lean down quickly to clean it up, scooping the food with your fingers and back onto the plate as best you can. You succeed only halfway, goop just smearing across the floor and onto your hand.

You stare at the mess you made, ears and cheeks burning as you hear snickers of cruel amusement coming from some military meatheads a few feet behind you.

You jump up quickly, making sure to avoid your shoelace so you don’t trip on it again and embarrass yourself any further. You hurry to the counter holding the utensils, mugs, and paper towels, tugging several brown napkins out of the dispenser sitting on top. You take a deep breath to calm yourself.

Kneeling down so soon after sleeping for six years in a cyropod made the muscles in your legs and shoulders ache, but you do it anyways. You wipe up the mess as best you can, piling the dirty napkins onto the plate and dumping it all into a nearby trashcan. You wish the ground would swallow you up.

You aren’t usually so embarrassed by such a small mistake, but it had been a rough past couple of days for you. You had landed at Bridgehead City just a few days ago, and you had felt immediately overwhelmed by the extreme size of the fortress.

It took the RDA fifteen years to return to Pandora, but when they did, they made sure to put in roots. Bridgehead City was an enormous structure, constantly building upon itself and hosting thousands of military combatants, engineers, skel suits, construction robots, anything that was thought of to build and maintain humanity’s last stronghold. Every person of every imagined career was here, working as one like bees and ants had once done for their queens a hundred years ago, before they had both gone extinct.

Bridgehead was terrifying to look at for the first time, seeing in person exactly how far humanity was willing to go to force itself onto another planet. You had noticed that it almost looked like a parasite, contrasting in color and material against the lively, glowing rainforest that surrounded it just past the barren land of the Kill Zone.

The wave of information that hit you the moment you stepped off the ship was almost enough to make your excitement to be on Pandora wither and die, but you held onto it with shaky, desperate hands.

Luckily for you, it wasn’t long before your enthusiasm bounced back and you met your new colleagues. Most of them had been just as nervous as you, clearly uncertain and overwhelmed. Knowing you weren’t alone made you relax just slightly. They were scientists hand-picked by the RDA as test subjects for re-opening the Avatar program, just like you.

None of you were really sure why the program had been stopped in the first place. The RDA was very quiet about what had happened all those years ago, when most of their military and scientists had been sent fleeing from Pandora with nothing but the clothes on their backs and tails between their legs. They refused to issue many statements, insisting that a minor misunderstanding had occurred with the ‘natives’ of the planet, and they’d be back soon enough to continue their mission.

The RDA had stated that the main reason for discounting the Avatar program was because the cost outweighed any benefit. The only reason they were allowing a few lucky souls to come to Pandora as Avatars was simply as a favor to the scientific community, and as a test to see if the Avatar program should be reinstated. Now the main purpose behind the program is to see if it’s worth it for people to be able to travel around Pandora without having to worry about the environmental protection systems, than a way to make peace with the Na’vi.

Most of the scientists in the base were only allowed restricted access to information regarding the past and current situation with the Na’vi, only knowing that The People were no longer accepting of humans on their planet and that the military is now on constant high alert. Most of the remaining records were classified to you, although you did try to learn as much as you could about what was happening on Pandora. Unfortunately, the RDA was very strict with that information, and you never found anything that mentioned the Na’vi or what happened fifteen years ago.

The ten members of the new Avatar program had been divided into two parts of five, just to make the introductions and sessions easier. You had met your three new acquaintances, eager to make some friends. They had introduced themselves; Emma, a small, shy woman who preferred observing rather than participating; James, a sweet, handsome young man; and David, an older man in his late fifties who seemed a bit too haughty for his own good.

Your group was shown to your individual rooms over on the west side of Bridgehead, far away from the landing pads and ships you had arrived on. Your new room was small and gray with concrete walls and a thin layering of carpet covering the cold floors. You had a small desk that sat underneath a suction-locked window that let you glimpse into an enclosure full of construction robots, but at least the light it let in was nice. There was a simple cot in the corner and a mirror as the only piece of décor on the walls, but it was yours, a place you could call your own.

You had grinned tiredly and fallen face down on your bed without bothering to take off your shoes. You slept for fourteen hours, and when you awoke you felt as though you were rising from the dead, hair wild and mouth fuzzy. After you brushed your teeth, showered, got dressed in clean clothes, and ate food for the first time in six years, you felt like a brand-new person.

And here you are now, in the mess hall, already making a fool of yourself on your second week.

You quickly rush back to your table and plop your behind into the seat you had vacated to throw away your plate, sitting across from Emma and David. Emma is poking at her food, face pale and gloomy. David is almost done with his own dinner, glasses perched on his nose as he reads from a holotablet.

Geesh. These guys certainly weren’t known for being the life of the party back home.

Maybe they just need some more time to adjust? I know I certainly fucking do.

You take a moment to bend down and tie your shoelace, double knotting it, not wanting to cause any more scenes.

When you sit back up in your chair and make eye contact with Emma, your lopsided, embarrassed smile falls from your face when she simply stares back at you, clearly uneasy for some reason you can’t name.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking clumsy. And why the fuck does it look like you’re all attending a funeral over here?” The voice that chimes up behind you lifts your mood exponentially, and you turn around in your seat to greet the approaching form of the last member of your group and your best friend with a happy grin.

You had met Margot a few months before your trip to Pandora when you both attended a required conference that would discuss certain parts of living in Bridgehead. The second you struck up a conversation with her, it was like meeting your long-lost sister. You had instantly clicked, getting on like a house on fire and scarcely spending a day away from each other.

James arrives at the table with her, holding his own plate. He gives you a comforting look, clearly sympathetic to your embarrassment.

“Hey Margot, James! You saw that, huh?” you ask sheepishly, shoulders raising to your ears as you feel a hot flash of mortification all over again.

“Uh, yeah, honey, I saw. I’m pretty sure half the cafeteria watched you nearly eat shit. You need to learn to tie your shoes better, babe.” Margot’s voice is just as loud as ever, and her bright blonde hair and tall figure aren’t exactly subtle, either.

She was the type of person to grab someone’s attention and refuse to let it go, manicured nails digging in deep. Well, her nails used to be manicured. Now they were just as plain as everyone else’s.

She takes a seat in the empty chair next to you, setting her own plate down with a clatter. She untucks her cheap silverware from the napkin and digs into her dinner, eating hurriedly like someone is about to snatch the plate away from her. You had once asked her why she never slowed down to enjoy her food, and she said that with eight siblings if you wanted any food, you needed to eat it like an animal.

James takes the other empty seat next to you, patting your shoulder twice before saying, “It’s okay, I don’t think that many people saw.”

You smile weakly at his attempt to make you feel better. It doesn’t help much, but you appreciate the thought, “Thanks, James.”

He nods and moves his attention to his plate.

Your table is silent for a few moments, everyone lost in their own thoughts and tasks.

You break the silence when you nervously ask, “So. Anybody else freaking out at the thought of linking up for the first time or is it just me?”

David looks up, paying attention to your words for the first time since you met him. “Well, I’m not nervous because I did all the pre-linking sessions and training years ago.” His nose is practically raised in the air.

You stare at him.

What a fucking douchebag. Who answers a question like that?

“That’s nice. What about you, Emma, are you nervous or excited? How are you feeling?” you ask gingerly, wanting to include her in the conversation. It would be nice to have another friend so that the next few years weren’t miserable.

Emma stares at you blankly, and then whispers a simple, “No.”

You lean back in your seat and deflate. “Oh.”

Fuck it, I tried.

Margot, the smug bitch, is watching you drown in social awkwardness as she happily munches away. You give her a look and a shrug, and she rolls her eyes before placing her fork down on the table. She dabs the corner of her mouth with her napkin, and then says to Emma, “Girl, I absolutely love that bracelet you’re wearing. Where did you get it?”

To your surprise, Emma perks up in her seat, right hand grazing the bracelet she wore on her left wrist. Her face softens, and she says, “It was my mom’s, actually.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet. Right?” Margot jabs her sharp elbow into your side, and you hiss but nod hurriedly.

“Yes, that is so sweet! I wear my mom’s wedding ring, actually.” You rub said ring with your hand. Your mood drops a little bit at the mention of your mother, but you shake your head to get back on track. “Makes me feel closer to her, I suppose.”

A small smile pulls on Emma’s cheeks, and she looks down, still rubbing the bracelet. “Yeah.”

You look at her, reconsidering your thoughts about her personality.

Maybe it just takes a little time to connect, that’s all.

You fiddle with the small, emerald cut ring that you were on the ring finger of your right hand. It had been a piece of jewelry your mother had worn faithfully until the day she died.

When you were a child, around ten or eleven years old, you had asked her why your dad had chosen that specific ring to represent their marriage, out of the hundreds of others he could have.

She was still sick at the time, spending most of her days laying in a hospital bed while nurses bustled in and out. She had lost so much weight that her cheeks were gaunt, and her face and hands were so white they were almost transparent, pale blue veins clear through the skin.

Her lips were pale and chapped, and the dark circles around her eyes were deeply imprinted in her skin like bruises. She looked like a ghost, a fragile, terrifying imitation of the woman who had raised you, a woman who you had thought put the stars themselves into the sky. She was weak, and even before she passed away it was like she was already dead.

She had gripped your hand as tightly as she could when you had asked that question, sweaty palm squeezing yours to the point of pain in a rare show of strength. She was usually so weak the nurses and you had to feed her by hand as she could barely lift up her arms. She looked you in the eye and pulled you close until your face was right next to hers.

In the croak that had now become her voice, she whispered, “I had asked the same question, years after he had proposed. I asked, ‘Jonathon, why this ring? Why this cut, why this color?’. And he had gripped me tightly and pulled me close and said, ‘Well, my love, it’s the breathtaking green color of your eyes. Your eyes and the ring match exactly, you see. And every time you look at it, you will see yourself the way I see you. Beautiful and bright.’

Tears had filled her glazed eyes, and she whispered to you, “No matter what, when you find the one you love, never let them go. Cherish every single second you have with them, never take them for granted, and make sure that they love you for everything that you are, the good and the bad. It is the purpose of our life. Love. Without it, we are nothing.” Against the tears and the agony that claimed her face and voice, your mother smiled for the first time in years.

Your father had passed away while your mother was still pregnant, killed in an easily avoidable accident. No matter how much your mother loved you before she had gotten sick, no matter how much joy you brought to her life, there was always a deep sorrow and grief inside her that consumed her soul every day.

She never got over your father, never dated or remarried or showed the barest hint of interest in anyone else. When asked why, she said that she had already had the love of her life, and there was no one who could ever compare to even the lingering ghost of your father that seemed to haunt her.

And when the sickness truly hit and reduced her to almost nothing, her anger and bitterness twisted her mind and her love for you into something cruel and abhorrent.

Even years later you kept her whispered words locked away into the very muscles of your heart. Even though your mother had been sick and weak when she told you these things, it was one of your few beloved moments with her. It had shown you who your mother really was, past all the sickness and malice, who she really was deep in her soul. That she had once loved and been loved.

And now you wear her wedding ring as a reminder of your parent’s love for each other, and how regardless of your mother’s cruelty toward you during the last years of her life, your love for her would never fade.

You’re jerked out of your melancholy thoughts when Margot burps loudly and thumps a fist against her chest.

“Jesus Christ, Margot. Where the fuck did you learn your manners from?” James asks, recoiling in disgust.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m almost done, then we can go check out the linking center.”

You nod eagerly, so overwhelmed with anticipation and delight that your fingers tremor just slightly.

You are so ready to meet your Avatar and link up for the first time, but the thought of anything going wrong makes you restless. You wish you could just get it over with so you could stop agonizing over it.

Margot finally finishes her food and stands up to dump her plate. James does the same, and then all five of you are off, walking down a long hallway with lots of twists and turns. The fluorescent lights shine brightly on the ceiling, and you can hear the distant sounds of never-ending construction.

Even with all five of you working together to get to your destination, the new buildings are too much for your group and you get lost in the labyrinth of hallways. James even has to ask a nearby custodian for directions once or twice. When you turn a corner, you spot a bathroom sign, and suddenly you have business to take care of. You pat Margot’s arm and point in that direction.

“Hey, guys, I’m going to head to the bathroom real quick. I’ll meet you there, okay?”

The rest of the group nods, but Margot decides to go with you. You do your business and you’re washing your hands in the sink when Margot makes eye contact with you through the mirror as she washes her own hands.

“I won’t lie, honey, I’m feeling pretty nervous about linking up as well. I know we’ve been through training simulations and have studied and practiced for years, but this is going to be different.” Her face and voice are uncharacteristically serious, and her hands shake just slightly as she pulls a towel out of the dispenser to dry her hands.

You feel a flash of sympathy for your friend, stopping your own drying. You walk around to her and put your hands on her shoulders, leaning your face close to hers.

“It’ll be okay, Margot, we’ve both got this. We just need to do it, and then it’ll be as easy as breathing before we know it, okay?”

Margot nods and takes a deep breath, looking down for a moment. When she looks up she’s much calmer, and her usual peppy attitude is back and shining.

“Thanks, sugar.”

You nod understandingly, releasing her shoulders and knocking her hip with yours as you walk toward the bathroom door. You both step outside into the hallway and continue your way.

“Of course. And besides, I’m just so ready to finally see her, you know? We’ve seen pictures and videos, but actually being there in real life is going to feel so surreal. The Na’vi are just stunning to me. Ooh, I almost forgot!”

You stop walking as you talk, scientist-brain taking over. Margot moves to stand in front of you, crossing her arms over her chest with an amused expression. This was far from the first time you had gone on a tangent.

“I saw someone from the recombinant unit when I was walking around yesterday, and he was fucking huge!”

You’re so busy trying to organize your thought flow into something sensible that you completely miss the approaching footsteps coming from behind you, and the way Margot looks over your shoulder and turns white.

You continue on, oblivious.

“He must have been pretty high ranking because the people with him followed him around like little ducklings. And the blue pigment of his skin was so beautiful. The color contrast of his eyes versus his skin kind of reminded me of a Primula ‘Zebra Blue’, you know, that blue and golden flower that went extinct like a hundred years ago? It was just amazing to finally see in person, and I-”

“Well, aren’t you just a peach?”

The deep voice that comes from behind you nearly makes you jump out of your skin. You whirl around, expecting to come face to face with whomever just spoke. Instead, you come eye level with the belt buckle and zipper of a pair of navy green camo military pants.

Your heart drops to your shoes.

You tilt your head up, up, up, until it’s practically craning backward. The uncomfortable position hurts, but that’s the least of your problems.

Your biggest problem, literally and figuratively, is the cold eyes and carefully amused face of the man you were just talking about.

You open your mouth to speak but words refuse to leave.

Why does this shit always happen to me?

You clamp your mouth shut when no words appear and swallow nervously, and the man notices your tense expression.

He smirks down at you, almost sneering. From the way he towers over you closely, unconcerned with personal space, it’s clear that this man likes to have people’s attention on him, takes pleasure in scaring people with his massive height and muscles.

And his intimidation tactics completely work on you, that’s for sure.

Jesus, look at his hands. He could cover my entire face and upper torso with just one of them!

You want to put as much distance between this frightening man and yourself as possible. But there’s a little voice in the back of your head, a stupid, too-curious little voice, that want you to examine him all the way from the finger pads and palm lines of his hands to the tip of his tail.

He was terrifying, yes, but you are also stunned by the wonderful science and technology that made up his body.

Of course, you’d seen holographs and pictures of Avatars and the Na’vi people, but they could never hold a candle to the real thing.

The navy green tank top, tattoo, and dog tags were all familiar things, but his height and the bright, smooth blue color of his skin were brand-new to you, something you wanted to take a closer look at. His hair was shaved closer to his skull than any other you’d seen, Avatar and Na’vi alike.

His bright yellow eyes sear into yours, and it feels like he is trying to see into your fucking soul.

Your heart rate skyrockets, mortified and thrilled and fearful all at once. The pile of extreme emotions twists your stomach, making you queasy.

Do not fucking puke on his shoes.

The man takes a step back to make room for his massive arm before he lifts it up, clearly holding his hand between you for a handshake. It almost seems as though he is testing your nerve; you wonder how many people had chosen not to shake his hand, too frightened.

“The name’s Colonel Quaritch, pleasure to meet you. What’s your name.” It’s a demand more than a question.

You look up at his face again before quickly wiping your hands on your lab coat to get rid of any sweat. You grab onto his hand as best as you can with your own, and holy shit.

His hand engulfs your own minuscule one and part of your forearm, his fingers reaching almost all the way to your elbow. And the skin of his hand is surprisingly soft; he doesn’t have as many calluses as you thought a marine would, but that might be because his Avatar body is fairly new. You tell him your name, and say,

“Uh, sorry, sir! I’m a xenobotanist from the science division, I got here about two weeks ago!” Your voice is squeaky and louder than you want it to be, making you cringe. You barely remember to shake his hand as you speak other than simply hold it in your own.

He continues to stare at you, wicked smile only growing when you say you’re a scientist.

“Ah, you tree-huggers are officially back, then. Part of the ‘newly instated Avatar program’, right?”

“Uh, y-yes, sir. That’s us.” You laugh weakly.

He barely twitches the fingers of the hand still holding your own, but the strength that comes from them is enough to make his grip almost painful.

“Hmmm. Well, I’m real curious to see how long you and your friend last before Pandora eats you alive. Just as a friendly warnin’, you should be real careful about what you say and who you say it about ‘round here. Guess I’ll be seein’ you. Peach.”

Your knees weaken and you nod hurriedly.

He finally releases your hand, gives you one last cold, golden look, and continues on his way. His bare arm brushes your shoulder as he passes you, and it’s enough to make you shiver.

He’s gone in just a few seconds, but you stay rooted in your spot, staring at the floor. You’re wondering if he’s going to come back and shank you with the wicked knife you’d seen strapped to his thigh when a hand gently presses against your shoulder.

You leap into the air for the second time that day, hand slamming into your chest and breath coming out in a gasp as you realize it’s just Margot. You’d completely forgotten she was even there, too consumed with the encompassing presence of Colonel Quaritch.

You look at her, eyes wide and mouth gaping. Margot returns your stunned look, face paler than you’ve ever seen it before.

“Holy. Fucking. Shit. You have the worst luck out of anyone I’ve ever met in my entire life. What the fuck just happened?”

You gulp. “I’m pretty sure that a terrifying man who wouldn’t hesitate to gut me overheard me practically gushing about him?”

She nods. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You stand there, practically swaying on your feet. “Oh my god, he fucking hates me! Did you see the look on his face? Oh my god, why is this happening? I’m never going to able to leave my room again!”

You bury your face into your hands, suddenly exhausted. First the mess hall, now this? Why couldn’t you just not embarrass yourself for once?

Margot pats your shoulder as you groan. “There, there. It’s alright, all you have to do is avoid him for the rest of your life. If you don’t, I’m pretty sure the next time you see him he’ll either just ignore you or kill you for saying all that stuff about him, and then you won’t have to worry about it anymore!”

“But I didn’t even mean it in a bad way! I was just describing him, the same way I do with all unknown subjects.”

Margot winces. “Uh, yeah, I would definitely not tell him that.”

------

You feel like whining as you finally continue walking to the linking center. After all that, the excitement you had felt at meeting your Avatar had almost completely disappeared. Now, the only thing you wanted to do was crawl back to your room and hide underneath your blankets forever.

But Margot pulls on your hand and ignores your childish wishes. When you arrive, she practically has to push you into the room.

And then every single thing, all of your hard work, the training, the learning, even the awkwardness of that day, was suddenly all worth it when you saw her for the first time.

She was curled up in the tank, cords attached to her body and eyes moving behind her closed lids. She floated gently around in the liquid that surrounded her, sometimes twitching a limb as she slept on.

You approach the tank, mind blank and mouth dry. As you get closer, you can see the details of her face, your face, just shifted into the feline-like features of a Na’vi.

She stole the breath straight from your lungs.

And that was how you spent the next few weeks, gazing at her slash yourself. Eventually, the time came for the first linkup, and everything went well, just like you had told Margot.

You spent the next month linking into your Avatar and wandering around the facilities, checking your reflexes and consuming everything Pandora had to offer while still in the confined space of Bridgehead City.

The disorientation from linking was enough to make you lay in a cot for an half an hour each time, too dizzy to move much. It’s such a bizarre feeling, suddenly being so much taller than everything else, and you are so much stronger than you are as a human.

It took a long time to remember your strength, and you accidentally put dents into a metal door handle when you grabbed it, squeezing it much harder than you meant to. The tiny little humans helping you gave you a pretty wide berth after that, only approaching when necessary.

You practiced using your new body, walking around without sitting on your long-haired queue or stepping on your new tail, which flailed around with a mind of its own. You liked to press your tongue to your sharp canines and look at the swaying tendrils attached to your hair.

It was an exhausting, thrilling process, and you loved every second of it.

None of the new Avatars had yet to actually leave Bridgehead and go into the forest yet. It would probably take a few more weeks for that to happen, and even then, you would probably only be allowed into the tree line past the Kill Zone.

Still, you eagerly look forward to that day, barely able to contain yourself in your excitement. It’s all you can think of day and night, and even in your dreams. On that day, you would be accomplishing so much more than a lifelong goal.

Now, your group is relaxing in one of the lounges used for breaks, discussing your experience with linking and Pandora. It was something you’d been talking about for the past few hours, the past few weeks, really. It wasn’t like any of you had very much in common with each other, other than your careers and education, but you were trying to dig a little deeper to learn more about these people.

The only problem was they were more antisocial than not, which was almost to be expected by a bunch of scientists. They were also hesitant to speak much about their past. You were the same way. They probably wouldn’t be here if they had a very pleasant past filled with lots of people they wanted to stay with back home.

You eat the small bag of crackers you’d snagged from one of the vending machines lining the gray walls of the room, hoping that the tiny treat will hold you until your next meal. The chair you are leaning back in creaks dangerously and wobbles, but you hold your precarious position, feet pulled up and crossed on the table in front of you.

Your mind wanders as the chatter of the group drifts in and out of your ears. You think of nothing in particular, dazing out of focus, simply relaxing for once.

That peace is shattered when James leaps from his chair further down the table where he and Emma sit. They’re playing an old-fashioned card game; one you’ve never heard of before. When you asked James where he learned it from, he said his great-grandfather had taught it to him. Something called ‘Go Fish’.

James raises his arms above his head in apparent victory, grinning fiercely.

“That’s round three for me, Emma!”

Emma is giggling behind her hand, cheeks flushed a bright pink. She keeps her eyes on James as he playfully postures at winning, and the sight of her joy makes you grin.

You look across the table at Margot and wiggle your eyebrows. She laughs quietly, nodding in agreement.

Sweet Emma and James. You’re almost surprised that they developed such an obvious, big fat crush on each other out of all people, given that their personalities are so different.

Maybe opposites really do attract?

Whatever the reason may be, you hope your friends find happiness in one another. The world could certainly do with more love.

Margot scoffs in disgust and curls her lip at her empty plate, apparently already over the tooth-rotting sweetness that was Emma and James.

She throws down her silverware onto the table and leans back in her chair, pout firm on her face.

“The food here is ass! You’d think a multi-trillion-dollar company would be able to feed its employees with something other than more fucking oatmeal. I’m so damn tired of oatmeal! It’s been most of our meals for the past month!”

“The supply shipment is late, you know that.” Is all you say. There is nothing to gain from arguing with Margot when she gets into one of these hungry moods.

“Then they need to make it un-late and bring me my fucking muffins!”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that ‘un-late’ isn’t even a word, but I do agree with you. Oatmeal reserves are getting pretty old.”

Margot nods vigorously, leaning forward and placing her hands on the table.

“Coup? Coup? Anybody interested?”

You throw back your head and laugh, “Margot, we’re not going throw a coup just because there aren’t any muffins! I thought you had saved a bunch of snacks the last time this happened?”

Margot deflates. “I ate them all already and the vending machines are out of my favorites!”

“Oh, Margot.”

“I know! Somebody just put me out of my misery.” She plants her face into her crossed arms on the table, moping.

“You know, you always complain about the food here, Margot, but that never seems to stop you from scarfing it down,” James says, putting himself into your conversation. He sits in his chair still, shuffling the deck of cards as he smirks at Margot.

“I have to eat it, it’s the only thing they have here!”

You open your mouth to say something, only to pause when a big blue hand reaches around the curve of the open doorway like something out of a horror movie. You sit there, gaping, as Colonel Quaritch crouches down through the opening and steps into the break room.

Margot, James, and Emma see your startled face and turn to see what you’re looking at. When they see Quaritch, they all lurch out of their seats to stand up straight. The cards Emma and James were playing with go flying all over the table and the ground, and Margot nearly knocks her plate off the table.

Quaritch straightens up and stands, several feet taller than any of you. He rests his hand on the holster of the belt wrapped around his trim waistline and practically cocks his hip as he looks directly at you.

You’re still sitting, cracker packet now crushed to a pulp in your right hand. When he looks at you, you finally jolt up to your feet. You dust off the cracker crumbs from your shirt as best you can, anxiety filling you.

“S-Sir!”

What the hell is he doing here!?

He saunters into the room until he’s standing by the table, just a few feet from you. You crane your head up to look at him, baffled and worried.

“Is there…anything you need, sir?” You can’t help the way your eyebrows scrunch up as you ask, clearly confused.

He stares down at you, head tilting to the side as if pondering something. Eventually, he speaks.

“Walk with me.”

And then he turns on his heel and ducks out of the room as quickly as he had entered. You stand, frozen, turning a bewildered stare to your group of friends. They stare back at you, just as perplexed, until Margot urges you to follow him with a push of her hand on your back.

You get your limbs to move and start walking after him, exiting the break room and finding him waiting. Once he sees you’re following after him, he continues walking down the hallway without a word.

The silence is almost uncomfortable as you walk several hallway lengths away from the lounge to some unknown destination. You’re almost tempted to break it to ask where the hell he’s taking you, but fear of his biting words keeps your mouth shut.

His legs are so long that his stride is practically jogging for you, and you have to speed walk so you don’t get left behind. He notices you struggling but doesn’t slow down one bit. In fact, the bastard smirks meanly at your frustration and funny walking pace.

You scowl at his amusement but refuse to say a word.

Finally, Quaritch stops in front of an enormous metal door, and he takes a key from his pocket and twists it into the lock on the doorknob. He opens it and walks in, and then gestures for you to do the same with an impatient wave of his hand.

You hurriedly scuttle in, freaking out even more. If he’s taking you to his office then he must have something serious to talk about, right? Was he going to punish you for what you said, was he going to yell at you, threaten you? You’re practically sweating, fingers twisting as your imagination goes wild.

You take a moment to break out of your thoughts and look around.

You pause.

You stand in the middle of the room, eyes locked onto one thing and one thing only: the large bed laying flush up against the corner of the space.

Who keeps a bed in their office? Is the first thing that comes to your mind. Confusion rushes through you and you look around the room, taking in the closet doors, the large desk tucked into the corner across the room parallel to the bed, the empty walls just as barren as your own room.

Your own room.

Ohmygod I’m in his room. Why would he bring me to his room!?

You whirl around, and Quaritch is standing so close to you that your face nearly smacks into his crotch.

You leap backward with a yelp and jump when Quaritch barks out a loud, unfriendly laugh and then sneers at you.

“I would’ve taken you to my office before, but it seems I don’t have one of those anymore. So, this’ll have to do.”

Confusion layered with frustration comes back to you, and your eyebrows furrow. “Do for what, sir?” You barely remember to tack on the ‘sir’ at the end of your sentence.

His face suddenly breaks out into a sharp-toothed grin, and he leans back, smug once more. You were really starting to get tired of that expression.

“I have a… proposition, for you.”

You barely refrain from turning a wide-eyed, horrified look at the bed.

Under any other circumstance, if a man had taken you to his bedroom and said he was propositioning you, you would be real worried. Red flags would pop up in your brain, mind demanding you flee fast.

But these aren’t normal circumstances, given that one of his arms alone is almost as big as your body. And you didn’t really get the impression that was something he was looking for right now, so you shake your head to get rid of any crude thoughts. You refuse to lower your guard, though, still uneasy.

“Uh, a proposition, sir?”

“Yes. You see, I’m under the firm belief that to destroy your enemies, you have to think like ‘em, be like ‘em. Kill like ‘em, eat like ‘em, shit like ‘em, that sorta thing.”

He takes a step closer and you take one back.

“And if I want to have even a snowball’s chance in hell of finding Jake Sully and the rest of the natives, I’m going to need to put myself in their shoes, metaphorically speaking. But most of the people here are military, marines, people with no knowledge of the Na’vi except how best to kill ‘em.”

“So. Who best to teach me how to be Na’vi other than one of the soft-hearted, limp-dicked scientists who just eats up Na’vi shit like it’s Mamma’s home-baked cookies?”

His yellow eyes burn into yours.

“One specific little scientist came to mind, you see, when I was thinkin’.”

You knew it was coming, but that doesn’t stop you from blanching. You shove a finger in your chest and point at yourself like an idiot.

“Me?”

Quaritch finally leans back, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, you.”

You sputter, mind going a thousand miles per hour.

“But-but, I’m not even an anthropologist, sir! I study foreign plant and-and animal life! Emma, she is the one in anthropology, you should talk to her!”

Quaritch scoffs.

“Emma Rodrigo can barely string a sentence together without pissin’ her pants, let alone teach me to do anythin’.” He crosses his arms over his chest, muscles bulging. His wicked teeth glint in the fluorescent lighting as he grins.

“Nah, I think it outta be you. Peach.”

Shit, shit, shit!

I was right, I should have just gone to my room and never come out.

“But-”

“You can say no, ‘course. This ain’t an order.” The look in his eyes says otherwise. If you decline, you’re sure you’ll either be cleaning toilets for the rest of your life or found dead with his knife in your gut. There is no going easy with this guy.

You gape at him, dumbstruck by the bizarre turn your day had taken. You had hoped you would never have to see this terrifying man ever again, fully prepared to cower and duck out of every room you saw him in. Now, he was asking you, of all people on this base, to teach him?

While this guy had the height and look of a Na’vi, he seemed to utterly despise everything about them. Was it even possible for him to learn anything about the Na’vi, their culture and their language, for it to really make a difference in whether he found them or not?

You weren’t even good at teaching! You were far better at learning and observing than educating people, and you had never been interested in changing that. Could you really teach this guy anything? Was he even capable of learning?

Your face hardens as you realize you’re faced with no other choice but to accept.

I guess we’ll see.

“You know, if you’re too chicken-shit to help me out, I could always get-”

“I’ll do it.” Your voice comes out firm, as confidently as you dared to speak to him.

“…oh?” He raises an eyebrow, looking surprised. And skeptical, the asshole.

You nod your head, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You are nervous, yes, but it had been decided. There was no going back now.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Yes. I’ll teach you everything you want to know about the Na’vi. But I-I also want something in return.”

His eyebrow raises higher.

You muster all the courage and audacity you can find in your body. Admittedly, there isn’t much, but you scrounge up enough to say the next few words aloud,

“In exchange for teaching you, I want you to teach me how to fight. I need to be able to protect myself when I’m out in the forest collecting samples, and I would ask one of my friends, but they can barely handle butter knives. And you are obviously…”

You eye him from top to bottom, eyes lingering on his massive arms before you can stop yourself.

“…capable.” You finish lamely, swallowing. You refuse to back down though, tilting your chin up and keeping eye contact.

Quaritch grins slowly.

“Well, little Peach, you certainly have bigger balls than I thought! It’s a deal-”

You hold your hand out for a handshake, palm open.

“To make it official.”

Quaritch glances down at your hand and then at your face, expression unreadable. And then, slowly, he reaches to grasp your hand and most of your arm once more. He pumps your entire arm down three times, eyes never leaving yours.

If you dared to think it, you might have thought he looked almost…impressed.

You clear your throat, face on fire. “So. When would work best for you, for our lessons?”

“…0500 every day for the next two months outta do it.”

Your eyes widen in horror, mouth dropping open all over again in protest. You barely keep yourself from grasping your chest in shock.

These military guys, did they never learn how to fucking sleep in!? That’s so damn early!

His sneering smirk returns to his face at your reaction, “Come on, Peach! Where’s your sense of adventure? You’ll tell me everything I need to know about the tree-fuckers, and I’ll teach you how to take a fist to the face, that sound good? About two hours each, four hours in total every single god-damn day. Good? Good.”

You sputter, hardly believing your ears. “Four hours every day? Don’t you have better things to do!?”

“Nope. My entire purpose for existing is to capture the traitor Jake Sully and end this war once and for all. With your help, I might actually be able to do that, which means that your time is now my time. Got it?”

You nod, queasy. It seems like all of your bravado from earlier had fled, leaving you with only the shakes and a bad feeling in your stomach.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl, Peach. Knew you had it in ya’!”

He claps your shoulder, and even through your shirt you can feel the warmth leaching off his hand and into your own skin.

The grin he wears makes you shiver, and you suddenly feel like prey that had just been caught by a predator, sharp teeth sinking into your neck and bleeding you dry.

He leads you to the door of his bedroom and practically tosses you out, done with you now that he had gotten what he wanted. He barely gives himself a chance to say, “See you bright an’ early tomorrow morning, Peach!” before he is slamming the door in your gawking face.

You stood outside his door for a few moments, simply processing. Eventually, you’re able to make your feet unstick from the floor and you wander back to the break room in a daze, mind clouded.

I can’t fucking believe that just happened. This is going to change my entire schedule for the next few months! Jesus Christ.

You practically stumble through the hallways toward your destination. Once you reach the door to the break room, you lean your arm against it and press your forehead into your arm. Your eyes close, and your heart jackhammers in your chest.

I don’t there’s anyone in my entire life who has ever made me as nervous as that guy. Holy shit.

You take deep breaths, trying to relax your muscles and get some air into your lungs. It takes a few moments, but eventually you’re able to get your heart rate down to a steady pump.

You lick your lips, suddenly parched.

When you lean up from your perch against the door and open your eyes, you can see the faint form of your face shining up from the metal of the door. Your pupils are blown, eyes still wide, and your cheeks are red.

He is seriously the scariest motherfucker I’ve ever met. And now I’m going to have to teach him things! I don’t know how I’m going to do it without passing out a few times, ohmygod. This is going to be miserable.

You swallow as best you can with a dry throat and shakily reach up to fix your messy hair, smoothing down flyaways. You straighten your shirt, crack your neck, and plaster a calm smile onto your face.

There’s no reason to let them know how terrified I am.

You open the door to the break room and step inside, ready to answer any questions they must surely have, and…

The room is empty.

You deflate, hand rubbing down your face and feeling embarrassed.

Of course they wouldn’t wait, we have a linking session in thirty minutes…that I am now late for. Fantastic.

------

You spend the rest of the day completely distracted, too worried about what might happen the next morning. It even took longer than usual for you to link into your Avatar, and when you were finally able to get outside, you had to answer to the swarm of nosy scientists you called your friends.

They were just concerned, you knew, but you didn’t like having to relive the entire stressful event down to the last detail. Still, you gave in and spilled, telling them about Quaritch’s ‘proposition’ (ha!) and leaving out the part where he had taken you to his bedroom.

They had all given you looks that ranged from horrified -Emma-, sympathetic -Margot and James-, and utterly uncaring -David-.

You start drinking from your water bottle franticly after you tell them everything, feeling anxious all over again.

“Well, maybe this won’t be such a bad thing,” Margot says, expression turning contemplative. All members of your group are sitting outside around a creaky wooden table in your Avatar forms, enjoying the fresh, sweet air and the bright light of Pandora as the rays warm your cyan skin. When you tilt your head back to let it shine on your face, it almost feels like home had been before the pollution clouded the sky.

Your hearing in this form is incredibly sensitive, and it hurts to hear the loud, never-ending beeping and rumbling of production taking place. It had taken you weeks to spend much time outside, and even then, you still sometimes have to put your hands over your big pointy ears when the sounds become too overwhelming.

Margot curls her large fingers underneath her chin and props her head up in her hand, “I mean, you’ll learn to protect yourself, so there’s that. Also, um…” She looks at the rest of the group mischievously, and they all get questioning looks on their faces.

She clears her throat and leans in closer to you. She puts a hand in front of her mouth, blocking it from the others, and whispers into your ear,

“I really, really wouldn’t mind getting to see how big his dick actually is and maybe you’ll get a chance.”

You choke on the water pouring into your mouth, spraying it all over the table you are sitting at. The liquid gets caught in your throat, causing you to cough painfully.

“Oh my god, Margot!” you screech, still coughing into your elbow and voice coming out scratchy. Your watery eyes glare at her over your arm.

Margot shrugs, “What, I was just saying what we were all thinking. He’s the biggest guy here, which has gotta mean something, right?” She wiggles her eyebrows and grins salaciously, and you bury your face into your arm.

“If he ever heard you saying anything like that, he would put his knife straight through your face without even hesitating!”

“I’ll let him put something else in my face if he wants.”

“Margot!”

It wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed that Colonel Miles Quaritch was a beautiful man. It would be impossible, really. Despite the sneer he always seemed to have on his face, the deep cyan of his skin, his wide, golden eyes, and his tall, broad frame were enough to make anybody swoon.

And his feline features weren’t the only thing that made him attractive. You could see his beauty in his long-fingered and broad hands, in his high cheekbones, in the curve of his lips even when they were curled up in disdain.

It wouldn’t surprise you to learn that a lot of people thought he was attractive just because of his attitude, either. Back home it seemed that everyone was interested in the cocky, proud, manly posturing that Quaritch seemed to like to do.

But despite how pretty he may be, he was also absolutely, shit-your-pants terrifying, and an asshole, which was enough for you to keep it in your pants. That, and the fact that he hated your guts.

“Trust me, Margot, I’ll be too busy trying not to piss him off again to see how big anything is.”

Great, now I’m thinking about his dick.

Margot rolls her eyes but leans back in her seat and drops the subject, “Your loss, then.”

James strikes up a new topic, just as embarrassed as you, and you slouch gratefully back into your seat, glad that the interrogation is over.

It’s nearing darkness by the time you all finish your linking sessions, and the group shuffles their way back into the sleeping center for the Avatars. You move over to your assigned bed, crawling under the soft sheets and sighing deeply.

You lightly traced your right-hand index finger over the smooth skin of your left arm, causing goosebumps to rise. It was still so strange, being able to actually feel with a body that was yours but not, having so many new features that you still have to adjust to even weeks later. Having a whole-ass tail, being several feet taller than any human alive, having super strength, hell, even being blue was still just totally fucking weird.

You lay back into the cot and attempt to clear your mind from any thoughts, but it was just as hard as it had been when you had linked earlier. After a few minutes, you are finally able to silence your mind and drift off just enough for the link to become secure and for you to wake up in the gel link bed, back in your human body.

By the time you walk to your room, you are bone-wary, almost stumbling on your feet. You dread the coming morning, and the only thing you want to do now is turn off your brain and rest. Your shoulders hurt from the stress of the day, and when you finally unlock your bedroom door, take off your clothes, shower, and brush your teeth, you’re practically hunched over.

You shuffle under the covers once again, and you’re unconscious before your head can fully settle onto the pillow.

------

Your eyes pop open, arms and legs flailing wildly in your sheets as you struggle to reach over to your alarm clock to silence its screaming. When you finally smack it, the crack of your hand connecting with its durable metal makes your palm sting angrily.

You let out a hoarse groan, cradling your hand to your chest as you flop down onto your bed. It had barely felt like you had gotten a wink of sleep last night, too busy thinking about your approaching morning with Quaritch. Scenarios ranging from you accidentally stabbing him to him purposefully stabbing you ran through your head, keeping you awake after only a few hours of rest.

Eventually, you stop your moping and reluctantly pull yourself out of your bed, eyes blearily glaring around your room.

It’s still a gray and sad little space, your room, but you had placed the small number of personal items you brought with you to Pandora throughout it. The one picture you had of your parents sits framed on your desk, along with your holotablet.

The few items of clothing and the two pairs of shoes you owned were put up in your closet haphazardly, and your hygienic amenities were scattered across the small bathroom connected to your room.

Your room and areas beyond it are all so generic and boring, which is why you spend most of your time either with your group or outside in your Avatar, being able to run around and feel. And once you were finally able to leave Bridgehead, your life would start, and it wouldn’t matter what your room looked like.

You tiredly get dressed and brush your teeth and your wild hair, putting it up into a simple ponytail to keep it out of your face. Once you’re suitable, you head out and lock the door behind you, placing the key in the right pocket of your jeans.

The hallways are quiet for once, and even the incessant roaring of construction has stopped. You walk down the softly lit hallways to the mess hall, unreasonably jealous of the people who get to sleep in their beds.

Most of the lights are off when you walk in, but to your surprise, there are a few people sitting down at a table already eating their breakfast.

Guess my assumption about the military was right, they really don’t know how to sleep in.

To your delight, there is a light amount of muffins and bagels laid out on a table nearby, but the most important thing was the coffee pot next to them.

Looks like the shipment finally came in. Margot is going to piss her pants.

You gladly snag two muffins with napkins and two small cups of coffee, heading right back out the door to the hallway with a friendly smile to the person walking in. They look blankly back at you, but you don’t mind as you stuff a chocolate chip muffin into your mouth as you walk.

You shuffle the remaining muffin and cups into your left hand and elbow crook, grasping the cold metal handle of the glass door that leads into the center with your right hand. You can see a head of black curls poke out from the side of a monitor, followed quickly by a scowl and a pair of eyes glaring blearily at you as you walk in.

You wince. “Morning, Tom. Thanks again for doing this, I really appreciate it.”

Tom had been the unlucky soul you had asked to help link you into your Avatar every morning for the foreseeable future. He had balked when you had asked, saying “Hell no!” before the words were fully out of your mouth. You had leveled him with your best begging look and offered to pay for six of the ridiculously expensive books you know he liked to read coming in on the next supply shipment.

He grouchily agreed to the deal but demanded you bring him breakfast every morning. You had accepted with a pleased smile.

Tom rolls his eyes and snatches the cup of coffee from your hand when you offer it. You’re about to warn him about how hot it was when he gulps half of it down. You watch, halfway impressed and halfway feeling the pain for him in your own throat.

“Let’s get started, then.” His voice is even more crackly than yours is this early.

You nod hurriedly and take one last sip of your coffee before you reluctantly set it down on the table. You walk over to the link bed and crawl in, and Tom pulls the cover down over you. You settle in, closing your eyes to clear your mind.

------

“There ya’ are, Peach! I was startin’ to think you’d chickened out on me.” Quaritch’s loud voice startles you out of your sleepy trance, and your head snaps up from where it is laying against the metal table you are sitting at.

The asshole looks as awake and lucid as usual, not a hint of tiredness on his face. He grins nastily when he sees your sleepy expression.

“We didn’t agree on a place to meet up, sir.” You are barely able to cover your yawn with a hand, and you stand with a grimace.

“That is true. From now on, we’ll do our lessons in Courtyard Six. Try to keep up.”

He turns and walks away, clearly expecting you to follow. You hurry to catch up with his long stride, but it’s much easier to do in this form. He’s almost ten feet tall, but your Avatar is eight and a half feet tall, and you are able to lengthen your stride to match his pace. Your shoulder width and muscles are still much smaller than his, but you imagined most were.

As you step in close to him, your nose twitches, and you realize something that almost makes you trip.

Quaritch smells really, really good.

You lean in closer to him and inhale discreetly, deeper than before, and, yep, that scent is definitely coming from him.

It is such a rich scent, a strange combination of rainwater, black coffee, and something smoky, like a campfire.

The smell is so strong that it feels like a physical mist floating its way through your nose and ears and into your head. Your mind goes fuzzy, as if suddenly stuffed with cotton. Your lips and fingertips tingle. And to your absolute horror, you can actually feel your mouth start to water.

It’s just such a lovely scent.

Do you think he’d be okay with it if I pressed my nose into his neck to smell him better-No!

You try to break out of the mist, shaking your head to get rid of the images of licking up his neck, tasting his skin, the way his head would tilt back and you would be able to feel his rumbling groan spread through his chest pressed up against your own and-

Stop it! Jesus Christ, don’t even think about it!

This is just a completely normal physical reaction, right? Maybe, but it wasn’t like this with the other guys!

In front of you, Quaritch’s footsteps stutter to a stop for a split second before resuming. It’s barely a pause, but it’s enough to make you snap out of your thoughts and look up at him. When you do, you notice the slight twitching of his own feline-like nose.

Is he smelling the same thing?

He turns his head around slightly to look at you, and you make eye contact with him just enough to notice his pupils are blown out, consuming most of his iris.

My eyes are probably no better, you think, before ducking your head to watch your feet as you walk.

Quaritch stares at you for a moment and then turns his attention back toward the path, and you do the same. You discreetly rub at your sensitive nose, trying to get his fantastic scent out of your head. A few moments after you do, Quaritch rubs at his own nose.

It doesn’t work, but by the time you reach the courtyard you’ve already gotten a little used to it. Thankfully you don’t feel as lightheaded anymore, but you have no idea if it is going to come back.

You notice that the sky has begun to lighten up as Quaritch unlocks the chain-link gate leading into the yard. Not that you really need any light, what with being able to see in the dark and all.

He stops once you enter and closes the gate behind you, and you can immediately tell why he had chosen this courtyard out of all the others. It was hidden behind a big wall of concrete that had no windows, so nobody could see you from inside the building, and it was positioned all the way in the back of the court section, meaning it was far more remote and private than the others.

Probably doesn’t want his tough guy image to be hurt when people saw him learning about the Na’vi and chatting with a little scientist, the prick.

The enclosure is a simple little area with a small basketball court, a tetherball pole, and a metal table. Nothing special, but it would be perfect for your lessons.

He turns around to meet your eyes, and you still have to tilt your head back to return his yellow gaze. The bioluminescent markings on his face glow brightly.

“You wanna go first, Peach?”

You swallow nervously but nod, “I’ll go first. I thought a lot about what our first lesson was going to be last night.”

You drop down onto the soft faux grass that covered the courtyard, legs crisscross applesauce in front of you as you avoid sitting on your flicking tail. You look up at him expectantly when he continues to stand.

Quaritch looks at the table sitting just a few feet away and shrugs. He plops down onto the grass hesitantly and crosses his legs in front of him the same as you. Now that he’s actually here, all the plans you made completely leave your brain, and you mind turns blank as you struggle to come up with something to say. You both sit there in silence for a few moments before he says,

“So are you actually going to say anything in this lesson or what? Usually I can’t get you quacks to shut the fuck up-”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m just trying to figure out where to start. Um…” Your brain flashes to what Quaritch had said when he started this whole thing, wanting to learn more about the way the Na’vi think, what’s important to them, how they work.

“Okay. Well, I guess the first place to start would be at the very beginning. Millions of years ago, when-”

Quaritch interrupts you with a loud groan, throwing his head back in exasperation, “I’m not askin’ for a history lesson here, Peach. Just tell me about them now, how they operate now, in this time, not millions of years ago! Jesus Christ, you pretentious assholes always have to drag things out-”

“Okay, alright, I’m sorry! Um, so the most important thing to know about the Na’vi is their connection to nature, their connection to Eywa. You’ve heard about Her, right?”

You continue to speak when Quaritch nods. “Right, well, She protects the balance of life here on Pandora, and the Na’vi love Eywa, the Great Mother. All things on Pandora are connected to each other through Eywa; you, me, plants, animals, you name it. Life and the forest are sacred to them because it bonds them to Eywa. They can actually speak to Her, and there are places like the Tree of Souls and the Tree of Voices that are sacred to them. They connect all the Na’vi to Eywa and to their ancestors, and they can actually hear the voices of past living people, isn’t that amazing? Are you with me so far?”

Quaritch nods again, surprisingly quiet. In fact, it’s probably the longest you’ve ever seen him be silent. His face is carefully blank, eyebrows furrowed with some unnamed emotion as he listens to you speak.

And that’s how the next two hours go, you talking and Quaritch listening with rapt attention. You had no idea if what you were talking about was anything Quaritch wanted to hear, but he didn’t interrupt you other than to ask a rare question.

About an hour in you stood up and stretched, bones popping and limbs aching from sitting on the ground for so long. Your ass was practically numb, and your left leg was stinging with pins and needles. You put your hands on your hips and looked down at Quaritch, who remained sitting on the grass.

For the first time ever, you were actually the one towering over him, and the thought made you grin as he looked up at you.

It seemed he could tell what you were thinking, because he scowled and pulled himself up on his feet, looming over you once more. He stretched his long arms above his head to get the blood flowing back in, groaning just like you had a moment ago.

You paused your own movement, gaze lingering on the way his strong muscles shifted underneath his pretty blue skin. They bunched up as his arms flexed, and your mouth turned dry.

Your eyes flickered over them for a few moments and then shifted to his face. Your stomach swooped low as you realized he had caught you looking, and you stared at him in mortification as his sneering, arrogant smile returned full force to his face. He looked so smug.

You had no idea your Avatar could even blush from embarrassment, but your cheeks burned all the same. You hurriedly turned your gaze away from him entirely, eyes squeezed shut.

He let out a low, unpleasant chuckle, clearly taking immense pleasure in your misery.

Asshole!

You stood for a few more minutes, back facing him as you pretended to examine the sky with incredible interest, waiting for your blush to fade and your stomach to settle. Eventually, you both sat on the grass once again, and you resumed your speech.

You talked about all things Na’vi related, from their connection to Eywa to what they wore, what they ate, their ceremonies, anything that popped into your head that you felt was important to mention.

In the grand scheme of things, you weren’t able to cover very much ground before your two hours were up and your lesson ended for the day.

By this time, Pandora’s light has returned from the eclipse, shining down brightly on both of you.

“So, how did I do?” you dare ask Quaritch.

“Well. Now I know what a Na’vi eats for breakfast, so. That’s something.”

You groan and bury your face in your hands, “I’m sorry, you said you wanted to know what they ate and everything! I promise we’ll eventually get into the more interesting and important things.”

Please don’t put me on toilet duty. I can do this!

Quaritch sighs, but says, “Don’t worry, Peach. We’ll get to the juicier parts someday. Learning to be one’s enemy is a long process, after all.”

He smacks his thighs, and the sound makes you jump, face moving away from your hands. Your nerves reignite in your stomach all over again as you realize it is now time for your lesson.

Why did I ever ask him to do this!? I should never have said anything, now I’m going to be Quaritch’s punching bag for the next few months! Idiot!

A sharp-toothed grin stretches over Quaritch’s face, and he leans in until he’s right in front of you, face close to yours. His yellow eyes bore into yours, and you can see your own terrified expression reflecting right back at you.

“Time for me to teach you, Peach.”

------

“Alright, Peach. You know how to handle a knife?”

You think about it and shake your head.

“…Okay. Do you know how to throw a punch?”

Again, you shake your head.

Quaritch curses and takes a step back, squeezing his eyes shut and rubbing the middle finger of his right hand between them as if praying for patience.

Both of you are standing in the middle of the small basket court, facing one another. You refuse to feel embarrassed by Quaritch’s reaction to your fighting skills, or lack thereof.

Not everyone can be a terrifying killing machine, asshole!

Quaritch seems to get the patience he was asking for, straightening up with a sigh.

“Back to the basics, then. Jesus.”

He steps up to you and places his warm, large hands on the bare skin of your shoulders. He shuffles you over closer to him, and you go willingly, body tense.

“First step in learning to defend yourself is to not be a pussy.”

Wow. Wonderful advice.

“You need to be firm in your stance and your attack, else your opponent will just be able to knock you off your feet before you can even land a hit. And if your limbs are loose, you’ll lose your balance and go flying just from your own force. Keep your core tight.”

He places a large hand firmly against the bare skin of your stomach and you suck in a surprised breath. His touch tingles through you in a way you’ve never felt before, and you look up at him with wide eyes.

He jerks his hand back and clears his throat. He walks around toward your back, and you can see the veins in his arm shift when his hand flexes by his side.

“When you throw a punch, you need to keep your wrist straight and fully extend your arm each time. Make sure you step like this,” he demonstrates, “and pull your arm like this.”

“Keep your thumb behind your index and middle fingers but out of your fist, don’t stick your pinky out, and you want to hit your opponent with these knuckles right here. Got it?”

You nod slowly, making a fist following his instructions with your right hand. He nods once and then moves in front of you. He lifts his hands in the air, palms facing outward.

“Hit me.”

Already? But I barely even- alright, you know what, I don’t even care anymore.

You shake out your arms self-consciously and try to position your body in the way he had shown you. You pull your arms up, hands folding into fists, stance widening, and you lash your arm out at him with all the strength you can muster.

Your right fist smacks against his open palm with a satisfying thwack, and you grin, tossing your arms above your head at your success.

“Your form was good, Peach, but your fist felt like getting hit with a bug. You need to work on your strength, build up your muscles and your core. Try again.”

You nod, arm flying out and hitting his palm once more.

“No, you need to keep your arm tucked in, not flying out like an idiot bird with a broken wing. Again.”

You hit his hands over and over for the next half an hour as he corrects your form and stance. As he said, you need to build your strength up in this new body, but this was a good start. He has to get in pretty close once again to show you how to move your body, but other than he seems to keep his distance.

You know, this isn’t so bad!

You hit him again a few more times before he nods, satisfied, and drops his arms.

“Now you know how to hit somebody hard, Peach. Always go for sensitive places, like the nose, groin, ears, eyes, kidney, wherever you can reach. Got it?”

You lower your own arms, panting. Reaching out to punch him hadn’t taken much movement from your arms, but doing it over and over again for half an hour made them ache terribly. You struggle to catch your breath.

It had been embarrassing, admittedly, the first few times. You had felt shy and scared all at once, unsure of yourself and uneager to be anywhere near Quaritch, let alone close enough to touch him.

Then you’d lost most of the fear the second time he had lightly smacked your cheek when he got through your defensively positioned arms. They were pretty much love taps, practically pats, but it had lit an angry fire in your stomach. Your uneasiness turned to determination to land at least one hit on him, and you forgot all about your trepidation and that this was Quaritch you were tussling with.

From the way he had grinned and curled his fingers in a ‘come-hither’ gesture, that was probably what he had been trying to do.

He also probably just liked hitting you, the dickbag.

Quaritch nods, and you fully expect him to end the lesson early for the day. What you weren’t expecting was for him to reach down and pull a massive knife from its sheath on his right thigh, bringing it up toward the light for examination.

You lean back quickly, ears flicking to the sides of your head in alarm. You had thought your punching lesson had seemed tame for him! It really wouldn’t surprise you if he decided you needed a lesson on keeping your guard up and lunged at you.

He won’t stab me, he won’t stab me, he won’t stab me, he won’t stab me-

“This here’s a bowie knife, seventeen inches of serrated steel strong enough to cut through bone.”

He waves it around carefully, smirking at your wide-eyed look of terror.

“And this…” he leans down to put the knife back in its sheath before pulling out something else from a different pocket on his right leg, “This is your knife.”

The little knife is comically small in his giant hand, more of a switchblade than anything else.

“That’ll be the knife you use for the next week at least, so don’t lose it.”

You pluck it from his hand gingerly, fingers folding around the base as you bring it up to your eyes for closer inspection. It looks bigger in your hand than it did in his, and you can see his initials, M.Q, engraved on its tiny metal handle.

Why the hell would a guy as big as Quaritch even need a knife this small? Does he use it as a toothpick?

Nonetheless, you’re glad he didn’t give you anything bigger to use for your first time. You weren’t sure you’d be able to handle it without stabbing yourself.

He shows you how to hold it, how to slash and stab, the proper way to stand and lunge with the little blade.

After another half an hour, he nods.

“Alright, now I want you to try me.” He says, pulling his arms up close to his chest and goading you on once again with a ‘come at me’ curled hand gesture, cocky smirk in place.

You balk. “You want me to charge at you with a knife already? We just got started!”

“Yep, sure did. What, you think you could actually touch me, let alone hurt me with that little thing? Ha!”

You wince. That’s a good point.

You do what he taught you to, adjusting your grip on the blade and positioning your body and feet into the dirt, tightening your core. You take a deep breath, strengthen your muscles, and then leap with a cry.

Quaritch shifts out of the way of your knife quicker than you had yet to see him move, simply stepping to the side with an unsurprised expression.

You go sailing past him, war cry turning panicked. You drop the knife and jerk up your arms to cover your face, turning away and squeezing your eyes shut.

Just as you start tilting toward the dirt, a hand grips the back of the collar of your shirt and pulls you upright before you can even realize you aren’t falling anymore. You remained positioned for impact, hands still in front of your face to cushion your fall even as you stand on your own two feet.

You open your eyes and blink, hands patting down your front as if to make sure no injury had been done to your person.

Quaritch lets go of your collar, knuckles brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck.

“That was fuckin’ pathetic! It was like a wet paper bag was throwin’ itself my way. And where the hell did you learn to cry out like that, ‘cause it was fuckin’ embarrassin’.”

You pay no attention to his harsh words, still stunned you hadn’t face-planted into the dirt for once.

You look up at him, starry-eyed.

“That was amazing, Quaritch! You moved so fast I could barely see you! Have you always been that quick or is it new? Could you teach me how to dodge like that?”

He stares down at you, ears flicking back against the sides of his head. An odd expression crosses his face, almost as though he was taken aback by your wonder.

He clears his throat awkwardly, turning to the side to avoid your strong eye contact.

“That doesn’t matter, not with that pathetic performance. You need ta’ be firm, like I said, and not throwin’ your weight ‘round like a pussy. Come on, do it again.”

You reach down into the dirt to pick up your little knife, and you lunge at him again. He dodges all the same, but you surprise the both of you when you don’t stop, turning around and slashing in his direction.

Of course, the blade doesn’t even touch him, but it’s the thought that counts.

He grins at you, “There you go, Peach! Way to show some initiative, I’ll make a fine soldier out of you yet. Let’s go again, come on.”

And that’s how you end your morning, trying to stab Colonel Miles Quaritch with a knife the size of one of his fingers. You’d have never thought this was where you would be when you met him all those weeks ago, but hey, if learning from him would one day save your life, you’d do it gladly.

By the time two hours have passed, you’re sweating and panting for breath, hands on your knees. Your body was still new, and you hadn’t been in it long enough for you to get past light jogging and reflex training. Honestly, the fact that you were able to do all that moving without collapsing was a god-damn miracle.

You were so much faster in this form, so much more flexible and stronger. Still, that held no comparison to the trained, experienced combat vet you were practically playing with. Because that’s what this would be called, not fighting or even training. It was like playing tag or a slapping game, cause that’s all that happened for the entire lesson.

Quaritch, the fucker, doesn’t have a drop of sweat on him. His chest rose and fell evenly, and he rested one of his hands on the gun holster he had wrapped around his hips.

“You good, Peach? Not going to puke, are ‘ya?” You’d be flattered by his concern for your well-being if it weren’t for the mean, amused tone layering his voice when he spoke.

You stay bent over for a few more moments as you struggle to catch your breath. Eventually, you’re able to rise fully upright. You answer his question, even though you know it was rhetorical,

“I-I’m good, I think.”

Just as you finish your sentence, your stomach growls angrily, as though enraged at being denied sustenance.

Ugh.

If you weren’t exhausted and beyond caring about what Quaritch thought of you, with your floppy, sweaty form and shitty punches, you would have been embarrassed. Now, though, the only thing you do is pout. Now, you were just a little pissed and tired at getting your ass thoroughly kicked for two hours.

“I’m hungry, can we be finished for the day?”

Quaritch rolls his eyes, unimpressed, but relents.

“Yeah, Peach, we’re done. Let’s get goin’.”

You grin, relieved, and your energy returns just slightly at the thought of lunch. You bound to his side, and he leads the way out of the courtyard and into the space beyond.

The day is in full swing, scientists, soldiers, robots, and trucks all bustling around Bridgehead as you follow Quaritch close on his heels to the mess hall.

You pass by all the tiny little humans, most of whom don’t even spare either of you a glance. Either because they were used to seeing ten-foot-tall Avatars walking around or because they were too busy to give a shit. Probably both, really.

You both have to duck as you walk through the doorway, Quaritch much more than you. You walk over to the table where you had snagged the muffins for breakfast earlier that morning, grabbing three of the sandwiches that were there now instead.

Quaritch grabs six of them, piling them all onto his plate.

You’ve just started scarfing yours down when a large hand whips out across your back, slamming into you. You inhale instinctively and start choking on your food, struggling to breathe. You turn around, fully ready to smash your sandwiches into the face of whichever fucker did that when you see Quaritch’s walking away, waving the spare hand not holding his food up behind him.

“See you ‘round, Peach.”

Oh. Well, at least he said goodbye.

You drink from the water bottle you’d snagged from the mass hall and eat your sandwiches as you walk to the showering station for Avatars. You stay under the pounding warm water longer than you probably should, enjoying the way it soothes the ache in your tense arms and shoulders.

After you’re done washing away the sweat and grime, you head back to the Avatar resting area, ready to be in your own body.

It had taken you a while to learn how to hold onto the brain link connecting your bodies; the first few weeks were the worst when you were learning to hold it longer and longer. Sometimes it would break, and you would slam back into your human body with a gasp, disoriented and head pounding.

Now, though, you were much better at holding onto the link for longer periods, even if it still gave you a headache.

You settle back into the pillows, closing your eyes and letting your mind go blank.

------

When you wake up in your human body, it always feels stuffy, not right, like you’re being squeezed into a tube. Your mouth is always cottony, too, and even though your body was simply laying down like you were asleep, your bones always ache when you get up as if you’ve been doing jumping jacks for however long you were in there.

You step out of the link bed, stretching your arms above your head and groaning. Tom is no longer in the linking center, but you didn’t expect him to be when there were others milling about who could watch over you.

You stand up and wobble a little bit, dizzy. Once it passes and you’re sure you can walk without smacking into anything, you make your way back toward your room, fully intent on sleeping for the rest of the afternoon before the conference in the evening.

Just as you leave the linking center, Margot runs into you, hair wild and eyes a little bit crazy. She grabs onto your shoulders, shaking you back and forth lightly. You let her do whatever she wants, beyond caring.

“How did it go? Did he yell at you, did he flirt any? Ooh, did he smack your ass-? Hey!”

You shake her hands off, walking past her with a roll of your eyes.

“Jesus Christ Margot, you really need to get laid.”

She groans, following after you with quick steps, waving her arms around as she says, “I know! There’s just no one I’ve seen that I’m interested in, so I have to live through you and your sexy romance with Colonel Quaritch-”

You halt, turning around to grab her shoulders. You’re the one shaking her back and forth this time.

“Listen, Margot, there is nothing going on with Quaritch and me at all, nothing sexy, nothing flirty! We literally just met like two days ago, and he’s hated me ever since! Now stop saying stuff like that, or he’s going to overhear us, again, and kill us both. Okay? Okay.”

Margot whines, “Oh, but maybe there could be! If you were just a little less uptight and he was a little less homicidal, you guys could totally get together. I mean, you can’t deny that he might be interested, right? I totally saw the way he was looking at you yesterday!”

“Yeah, he was looking at me like he wanted to wrap his hands around my throat.”

“Kinky.”

“No, Margot, not kinky! More like murderous! You’re starting to sound crazy, Margot, you’ve gotta do something before you start humping anything that moves.”

Margot blushes, finally feeling some sort of shame, and she nods, “Yeah, you’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just so pent-up, honey. Ugh! Okay, I’m going to try to relax somewhere, get outta my head for a little bit. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

You pat her shoulder and say, “See you then, Margot.”

She gives you one last smile before she’s off, bounding down the hallway. You shake your head in fond exasperation, now even more tired than before, and walk back to your room. You adored Margot, loved her, but sometimes her exuberance made your head pound.

You unlock your door, kick off your shoes, and toss yourself onto the unmade sheets of your bed. One last thought floats through your mind just before you drift off to sleep.

Maybe mornings with Quaritch won’t be as bad as I thought.

peachy keen. Part Two

#avatar: the way of water #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar imagine #miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch imagine #my writing #avatar #avatar fanfiction #the way of water #cross posted on ao3 #peachy keen #colonel quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #avatar miles quaritch #na'vi quaritch #na'vi quaritch x reader

2K 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

bluemurray · 1 year

Text

Silly, it is to make sure that he won't get away.

(feat. Spider fast asleep from sitting through all those military meetings and he ain't allowed to roam around).

2K notes · View notes

woodspr1te · 1 year

Text

possessive!miles quaritch headcanons

summary: miles quaritch often makes his claim on you known… not that you really mind

warning: (poorly done) nsfw content ahead. also written with x afab!reader in mind, and includes several afab terms. vague? angst for like 3 seconds.

this man has lost everything, so when it comes to you??? he’s not taking any chances

constantly says something about you being his, even in the most normal of conversations....

lyle’s bothering you? he’s promptly told off with a “wainfleet. leave my woman alone.”

AND GOD FORBID ANYONE EVER MAKES A COMMENT TOWARDS YOU

the immediate eyebrow crease when he hears it. his ears tilt down, and flatten against his head. he grips the person’s shoulder as tight as possible, practically crushing it. his smile is almost lethal by itself with the amount of fang it shows, as he leans closer to them. “say another word about my girl again, and i’ll make sure any na’vi arrows are the least of your worries”

keeps you basically pressed against him at all times. hands on your waist, gripping your ass, entangling your fingers in his... this list is endless

his favorite thing to do of all time is to press himself against you whenever you’re doing something. burying his face into your neck and nuzzling as close as he can while he breathes in your scent

he also enjoys grinding his hips against you while he presses gentle kisses to the back of your neck, hoping to get some attention

needy needy NEEDY man. i said what i said

he’s so desperate 24/7 honestly this man is a slut for you

the amount of times you’ve come back to your home with miles’s pants on the floor and him fucking his fist is unreal

you’ll watch from the doorway as he fists his cock, his tip an angry purple hue with precum leaking out

he’s already panting, making full eye contact as he mumbles out “get your ass over here so i can cum on those pretty tits, baby”

he has a thing for marking you with his cum

you’re lucky if you leave the room without smelling like sex for the next year, body aching from the number he does on you

has a thing for scenting you too. literally will rub his head and neck all over your body to cover you in his scent so others know you’re spoken for.

his recom body goes through heat? even worse. you’re literally unable to be seen for a week, and he’s constantly pumping you full of his cum

he won’t let you get up for a while after you both finish. his arms are caging you in tight as he presses butterfly kisses to your shoulder, sucking your skin lightly and nipping so it’ll bruise

he marks you UPPPPPPP like to the max

nothing can ever cover them up. and if you wear na’vi clothing? good luck.

your hips have faint fingertip marks all the time. it’s practically part of your skin now from how hard he grips them when bouncing you on his dick

HICKEYS. he has the mind of a teenage boy sometimes okay and all he cares about is everyone seeing how good you let him make you feel

bite marks. miles puts those teeth to use, okay. they litter the inside of your thighs and hip bones. he enjoys watching you squirm as he marks you up, especially when he’s taking his time eating you out

you cum on his fingers once when he bites your hip? he’ll do it every time from then on

prides himself on how good he makes you feel. when he’s fucking you from the back and you’re crying out for him, he’ll pull you up against his chest, wrapping his arm around you. then, he’ll make you tell him how good it feels or you don’t get to cum

you comply?? he’ll make you do it over and over. “who’s my good little slut?” “you like the way i make you feel? tell me how good this dick is.” “such a good girl, my good girl.” “nobody else is ever gonna give you this. only i can fuck you like this, right princess?”

YOU’RE A BRAT??? good luck. he will make you beg and then overstim you to eywa and back. “only good girls get to finish. you think you’ve been my good girl?” “tell me you’re mine and i’ll think about letting you cum.” “who does this pussy belong to? that’s fucking right. me. say it.”

fucks you in front of mirrors so you can see how well he fits inside you. loves to fuck you with your hands pressed against the glass as he grips your throat and murmurs “you see that sloppy little cunt? look at how perfect it fits around me. look at how good you take my cum”

has a big thing for cockwarming and aftercare cuz he really loves you. runs his hands up and down your body, kissing your head as he mumbles how proud you made him and how you’re his sweet girl. makes sure to press all of his cum back into you, and presses a little bit down on your clit every time he does just to be a fucking tease.

he just wants to know you’ll love him for the rest of time and that he’s yours. as much as he loves hearing you say you’re his, he needs to know he belongs to you as well

you even jokingly tell him he’s your big, strong mate? he’s literally purring, tail swishing back and forth with happiness.

has such a strong urge to protect you. places his body in front of yours when there’s a suspicious noise. won’t let you out of his sight for a second.

miles LOVESSSSS when you seem like you need him. can’t sleep and you wake him up for comfort?

at first, he seems a little grumpy, but the moment he realizes it’s you his voice turns soft. “sweetheart… baby, what’s wrong? c’mere, i’ve got you. nothing’s gonna touch my girl, not while i’m here��

he’s not possessive in a “jealous of every man” kind of way. although he wouldn’t like the way some people look at you, it’s about you choosing to leave him/abandoning him more than anything

he’s lost so much already. his human self, his dignity, his son, the war…. but losing you would truly break him

ESPECIALLY if you are na’vi. not even recom. he doesn’t want your clan to steal you back, can’t let you betray him

it would terrify him if you both fought and you brought up leaving. perhaps it would be about the actions of specops or the rda’s actions. regardless, your cry of “i can’t fucking do this anymore, miles” stops him dead in his tracks

his throat feels like it’s closing. he has barely breathed in 10 seconds, and the silence between you both is deafening

you shook your head, turning away from him. “miles… i love you, but i can’t-”

“don’t fucking go. you promised you’re mine.” he interrupts you almost immediately, and he’s a lot closer than you remembered. he sounds broken, almost wounded

you swallow, looking down as you take his hands in yours. “my miles…”

he interrupts you again, pressing his forehead against yours. “you love me? then stay, please. we can figure it out, baby. we’re mates, right? m’not stupid, i know what it did when we made tsaheylu. i chose you forever, so choose me.”

he’s whipped, mkay. literally would rather saw his own tail off then hear you say you’re leaving him

lowkey freaks out if you ever get injured. he keeps a very calm facade, and perhaps even scolds you with a light “c’mon baby, what the hell were you thinking” but he’s secretly so happy you’re gonna be okay

shows you off at ANY AND EVERY possible chance

you walk in a room? “there she is! been looking all over for you, baby.”

hyper-aware of your reactions. he notices you’ve favoring one kind of fruit more, and all the suddenly he’s gathered 20 of them for your consumption

prides himself on being the best mate possible for you, and he’s going to make sure you know it too

#avatar 2 #avatar x reader #colonel miles quaritch #avatar #miles quaritch headcanon #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch smut #avatar smut #avatar imagine #avatar headcanons #i know it’s not the best okay but we’re not talking abt that

1K notes · View notes

babyjackdaniels · 2 months

Text

65 notes · View notes

whxre-bxby · 1 year

Text

“Colonel’s Orders”

(oh to be manhandled by Mansk like Tsireya)

Smut with Mansk, Miles, and Lyle

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

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

Word Count: 6803

Masterlist

Colonel's Orders Version 2.0

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe the Colonel has some announcement.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

I tilt my head confused.

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

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

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

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

I glance at Quaritch who is looking at my hair.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It doesn’t seem like a good sign.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everyone is surprised and listening.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

“We’d get in so much tr-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I nod, smiling.

“Yeah, great.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was in fact, a bitch in heat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

...

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

3K notes · View notes

veramitar · 1 year

Text

#tw violence #fanart #colonel miles quaritch #spider socorro #What if?#Imagine #Despite its faults I post it

588 notes · View notes

whereireid · 10 months

Text

˚ · . 𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐀𝐂𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: miles quartich x fem!reader | masterlist.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There is no smell!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’re you tryna tell me?”

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

“Colonel, I—”

“— What’re those plants?”

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

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

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

Quartich doesn’t leave.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“English, darlin’.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is wrong.”

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

Your head bows in shame.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please what?”

“Please, Colonel?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Colonel.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your walls flutter around him as he cums, the aftershock of your orgasm pulsing throughout your body.

Something weird happens, though — the warmth blooms within you as opposed to dulling, a painful throbbing sensation pulsing in-between your legs. You pull, press against Quaritch's body, but his teeth have sunk into your wrist, his hands holding you against him, keeping you trapped.

"You've — you've knotted me," you breathe, bewildered, "you've knotted me."

His hot breath fans your ears, his grip on you tightening as he pulls you closer. "I know," he grunts, his cock still insatiably hard inside of you, "I'm gonna make sure I give you that god-damned half-breed baby you want."

966 notes · View notes