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#quaritch
pandoraslxna · 1 day
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💥Miles Quaritch pls there's barely people doing work about him it makes me so sad I love your works
A headcanon I’ve make up for Quaritch:
He’s very possessive over his partner. It’s so easy to make him jealous, but even though he’s possessive over you, he has no problem in showing off his claim on you in front of others. Depending on how far you’re willing to take this with him, he’s eager to leave his marks on you for everyone to see or even doing risky stuff in public just to declare that you belong to him.
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1-0t0r · 1 year
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valentine doodles, hope yours was better than the colonel's!
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movietimegirl · 1 year
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Have you seen his son?
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nat-but-free · 5 months
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AVATAR SPECIAL EDITION AVATAR SPECIAL EDITION
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vinciwolf · 1 year
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pls choke me...
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anchor-biter-jay · 1 year
Photo
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Avatar cattos but make it TLK
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space-blue · 1 year
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They're grilling.
[longer Mansk grilling comic here]
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thundream · 1 year
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"Miles?"
"Nobody calls me that."
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niku30 · 1 year
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Forgot to share those Mansk studies/doodles I did yesterday!!!
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pandoraslxna · 12 days
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Sweet like Cherry — Chapter 5
Miles Quaritch x female scientist reader
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Words: 6.3k
Summary: Miles has a secret admirer and apparently, she has a thing for photography.
Warnings: explicit smut, age gap, size difference, alcohol consumption, somehow all men are assholes in this chapter, taking advantage of a drunk reader, cat calling, spanking, rough oral (f receiving), jealousy, possessive behavior, minimal dub-con warning, gambling, biting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, virgin reader, obsession, authority kink, power play, corruption kink
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There's a good reason as to why you don’t talk about personal things with your coworkers.
The problem with most coworkers is, they either don’t know or don’t care about someone’s boundaries. They'll just do something like this because they think it’s a nice gesture, and you don’t understand the point when in reality, they just need another reason to get wasted on another saturday night.
Out of place didn’t even begin to cover the way you felt right now.
You knew parties could be fun and a good time for everyone. Not that you’ve been to many before. You just don’t want to be in the middle of this, can't stand the fact that all these people are clustered around, laughing and talking and celebrating you. It feels like a game of play pretend. You don’t even know half of these people that claim to be your friends. They’re not even coworkers, you think. A dozen of them you’ve never even seen before and you’re sure they don’t even work on the same floor as you.
Maggie is going to pay for this later, because she's the only one who could possibly have told them that it's your birthday, and you specifically told her you weren’t going to let her do anything for your birthday. But you should’ve known, the second she asked to do your make up, then stuffed you into this sinfully tight and entirely too short dress of hers because she convinced you it would be fun, and then coincidentally found a pair of heels to match the look.
You couldn’t actually be that stupid, could you? Obviously she had something planned for you, when she asked to spend the evening of your birthday with you for a coffee. Now that coffee turned out to be whatever liquor was filled into that plastic cup in your hand that was then downed with a loud, cheerful whoo of every women in the room because they convinced you that’s how it’s done at a party.
"Aren't you enjoying yourself even a litte?" Laura asks, looking a little like a puppy hoping for a treat as she watches you chew on the inside of your cheek, standing stiff like a rod in the far corner of the room. You’re almost a little disappointed in her, after you found out she helped planning all this. But you can’t be mad at her when she only means good. Apparently that’s what good cowork— friends. That’s what good friends are supposed to do for each other.
And even though you want to say no, you can't bring yourself to throw their kindness back in their faces. After all, they were the only ones that gave you a chance to prove that you could be more than just that nerd. That nerd that doesn’t even bother to make friends or go to parties, that nerd that doesn't even get invited to said parties because you’re no fun anyways.
You may have earned yourself that name, but it still stings to think too much about it. And maybe you don’t want to be that nerd forever. Maybe you want to let yourself enjoy this.
"Yes, I'm enjoying myself," you finally say, swallowing down a sigh.
"Then smile, and go dance with us!" Maggie nudges your side and you cringe at the thought of dancing in the center of the crowded room.
"Why?" You force out a laugh, even though the question is genuine.
"Is this going to be some kind of philosophy discussion?" The brunette rolls her eyes, and you can’t help but admire her talent in applying false eyelashes that long without poking her eyeballs out. "I wanna dance, that's why!"
"I don't dance."
"Everybody dances! You just move, and you're dancing. How easy is that?"
"No I mean, I don't dance. I spazz. It's painful to watch. Me, spazzing all over the floor…" Your voice has grown quieter with every word, until you’re nearly hiding yourself by taking another gulp of that bright yellow liquor in your cup.
It's sweet and fizzy and tastes like sunlight might if you could drink it, so you empty another cup.
Flashing lights give you a taste of what epilepsy might be like and you feel the music pounding through the air and floor caress your every nerve. You feel fuzzy.
But it seems to be a good fuzzy. Warm happiness flows through your body like thick honey. Okay, maybe that happiness was just this overly sweet tasting booze, but you still felt distant in a nice way, and your head seemed to be floating, only attached to your neck by a string. The feel of Maggie’s sweating hand wrapped around your wrist distracted you beyond words, until you realized she was trying to drag you somewhere.
"Well then, let’s find yourself some company so you don’t get bored while you don’t dance all night", she giggles.
The two of you wended your way across to the other side of the room despite every protest that came from you; dodging tables, drunks, dancers, and others with ease, until Maggie seemed to reach her destination with a proud smile on her face. A group of men, most of them as unfamiliar as the better half of people here.
One of them you knew, though. It was Phil from floor 3. G., that computer engineer that had earned himself the title of Maggie’s friend, but with certain… benefits. However by the way these two were looking at each other through that heavy drunken lust in their eyes, one could assume they were actually more than just that.
Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you nervously nipped at your drink once again as Maggie introduced you to the group. A bunch of people that came to celebrate you, yet none of them even knew your name, you came to realize. Great. And if you weren’t slowly starting to feel very funny inside, that would’ve been just another reason for you to leave this party immediately, slip into your favorite pjs and call it a night.
"So, twenty-six, huh?" One of the men smiles and lifts his drink in a toast, gently tipping the cup against yours which snaps you out of your trance. Looking up, you’re met with long, silky curls that framed a slightly tanned and politely smiling face. Your eyes skimmed over his frame for a split second. His body was...compact, lean, firm, though not overly muscular. Just an average looking guy.
"Yep", you clear your throat and send the man an awkward smile that he answers with a chuckle.
"I‘m Ben", he says and for a second, you hesitate to take his hand that he holds out for you to shake. "Nice to meet you."
The impact of that barest of touches, a mere whisper of skin-against-skin as you shake his hand and he squeezes yours, was enough to send blood rushing to your cheeks. His hands are soft, too soft, you think. Ironically, that makes you think about the dozen times a day lately when you had caught yourself thinking about Quaritch‘s hands. His are rough, big and warm, littered in tiny scars that you could feel when he caressed your skin or when he held you in a bruising grip.
The ones that had you concentrate very hard, to not beg him to touch you, on running those fingers across your body. His hands weren’t soft like Bens, who probably worked behind a desk and spent most of his times indoors, preferably in an office of some sorts.
Ben was also polite, you realized right away. He held small talk like it was second nature to him, even though you couldn’t help the awkwardness in the beginning. But his voice is smooth like honey and his jokes actually manage to make you laugh. Genuinely.
But by the time you had emptied your next cup, you couldn’t even seem to focus on the conversation anymore. Everything had turned into a blur of movements around you, and you were grateful for Bens guiding hand as he placed a glass of water into one of yours and took the empty red cup from the other.
"Here, drink this", he said with a chuckle, "Can’t have the birthday girl pass out this early on her special day, right?"
For a moment that seemed endless to you but for anyone near sober it must’ve been nothing more than a few seconds, your eyes lingered on him. Ben was cute, you thought. Not that kind of puppy cute that could make you go aww and ruffle through his hair, but that kind that made you blush and feel hot all over. He was handsome too. For an average guy. But then again, you’re just an average woman, are you not? And kindness, real kindness, was something you suddenly felt very starved for, especially now that it was served to you on a silver platter.
Suddenly it felt as if that hunger was beginning to burn out of control. As if he could sense your feelings, Ben moved just a little closer, the heat from his body searing your skin as he placed a hand to your upper arm and tilted his head.
"Y-Yes, no, i mean–", you stutter, quickly adverting your gaze from him to the glass of water in your hand. "You’re right. Sorry, i didn’t mean to zoom out like that, it’s just been… it’s just been a week for me and normally I don’t drink. Not that much, at least."
His hand moves in a soothing motion, up and down on your arm as he listens attentively. Ben tells you that you have nothing to apologize for. He asks about your work, your studies. He nods along and smiles to everything you say and it makes you feel appreciated, on a level you can’t remember ever feeling before.
It takes an embarrassing amount of time for you to realize that you’re rambling about your work life. And it takes you even longer to realize that through it all, Bens hand hasn’t moved away. That all it did was move up, up, up until he reaches to cup your jaw, his thumb stroking over your cheek just as you explain to him how the the Pamtseowll can be used as a musical instruments due to the sound produced when the wind moves across the leaves of the plant. Looking back you realized, that must’ve been pretty boring for him to listen to, especially since Ben decided to cut you off mid sentence as he pressed his booze tasting lips against yours.
You’re taken aback from the sudden invasion of your personal space, especially when Ben wraps his arm around your middle and pulls you flush against him. But the alcohol in your system makes up for that pretty quickly, heat rushing up to your face and simultaneously between your thighs makes you feel tingly all over.
His tongue pushes past your lips and you gasp into the kiss, the cup in your hand almost slipping out of your grasp as you lean into it.
The allure of cruising for a quick fuck, or possibly hustling for one; no commitment, no strings makes itself known when a soft sigh, almost a whimper, escapes you. It could be so easy, you think. You could do it tonight and get it over with.
You had to do something about this, this feeling whatever it was, get it out of you.
And his lips already fit so perfect against yours, but that’s really the problem, isn’t it? They’re not too big or too small. His hands can’t close entirely around your upper arm. His chest is basically flush with yours. God, you’re almost eye level with him. He’s so normal, so average. It doesn’t feel special with him. There’s no spark behind his kiss, it doesn’t consume you, it doesn’t take your breath away. He doesn’t make you feel special.
No. This wasn't a good idea.
It was no use, picking a man that wasn't even going to be able to fill in for the one you actually wanted. The one who’s hands you wished were touching you now, instead of Bens. The one who’s lips you wanted on yours, so desperately, you couldn’t even stop imagining it were his instead.
Fuck it, you thought. If he could seek you out to find some temporary relief, so could you. And you needed one, needed him, before you did something you would surely regret in the morning.
Bens face was so close, you had to blink a few times to bring it into focus before you gave him a subtle little push and his lips finally detached from yours.
It must’ve been the sudden change of your facial expression, but he suddenly found the need to apologize for kissing you so sudden, so unsolicited.
"No, no, it’s not that. I just need some fresh air, I feel a little nauseous", you admitted sheepishly, which was both, the truth and a lie. You tried not to pay too much attention to the guilty look in Bens face as you excused yourself and quickly found a way to the exit without anyone taking notice of you, basically ditching your own party.
By now, you could make the walk through the dimly lit hallways to Quaritchs room in your sleep. Or, in this case, drunk and on uncoordinated feet.
Anticipation fills your hazed mind and with an enthusiastic thud, your knuckles connect with the metal frame, producing a muffled echo as you knock on his door.
Heart pounding rapidly in your chest, you eagerly wait for him to open, but the silence that follows is deafening. The realization slowly dawns on you that the Colonel isn't home and a mix of disappointment and frustration crosses your face. But you won’t give up that easily. If he’s not here, there’s only one place he could be at this time of the night.
Two floors up and down the corridor on the left, you could already see light beaming under the comically large door, loud voices and laughter echoing through the hallways that could already be heard as you had exited the elevator earlier.
Peaking into the common room that belonged to team Deja blue, you were greeted by a vibrant atmosphere where you knew the military men gathered to unwind after work. The space was adorned with patriotic decor, displaying flags, emblems, and photographs that reflect their shared commitment as well as their love for barely dressed na’vi pin up girls sitting on tanks and posing with guns. How ironic.
The air carries the smell of smoke and beer, and the musky scent of the day's work and you can’t help but shudder. Your inner warning sirens were working overtime as you stepped foot into the room, fear making your knees go weak, yet every sense of logic and common sense was overtuned by the alcohol buzzing through you. The room exuded a sense of unity, one you clearly didn’t belong to, making you stick out like a sore thumb.
Uniformed recombinant soldiers were relaxing on comfortable couches, their boots resting on coffee tables, engage in heated games of pool or cards -everything maximized to their ridiculous size.
It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for the first pair of eyes to land on your much smaller frame, before nudging the recom next to them with their elbow, pointing at you with their chin.
You try to ignore their boring gazes, the sound of low whistles and snickering picking up the more of them realized your presence. Pulling your sinfully short dress a little down lower, a feeling of regret fills your cheeks in a dark blush. But before you can change your mind and turn around to exit, a large palm settles on your lower back, keeping you from walking backwards out of the room.
"Hey doll face, where ya‘ going?"
Craning your neck up, you’re met with a grin that belonged to a recom that had a pair of sunglasses resting on top of his bald head. You knew he seemed familiar, but the liquor you had consumed earlier made it impossible to concentrate enough to remember his name.
"Oh excuse me, I- I‘m– I was just, uhm, looking for Colonel Quaritch?" You winced at the way you made it sound like a question, cursing yourself for embarrassing you by drunkenly rambling to a stranger.
"The Colonel?" He exchanged a look over his shoulder with some of the other soldiers, who were seemingly interested in what you had to say. "Why’s that, buttercup?"
"I, uhm, want to give him something", you improvise. "It’s urgent." That much was true.
The man looks you up and down for a moment, his eyes nearly peeling the little dress from your body as he takes you in, brows raised high.
"Give him something, huh? Why don’t you give that little something to me?" He laughs.
"He’s not here right now, but we can have good time together too", one of the others calls from behind.
You swallow the lump in your throat, awkwardly picking at your fingernails as your hands begin to shake. Deciding to back off and step back from the whole situation, you set one foot behind the other, already preparing yourself to mumble an embarrassing excuse before an arm wraps itself around your waist and you nearly stumble forward and into one of the soldiers arms.
"C‘mere pretty, I don’t bite", he grins, then points his chin to the bald soldier on his right, "But the Corporal over there sure does."
The men laugh and shove each other like a group of rowdy teenagers, and you’re honestly scared one of them could accidentally crush you if they fell. You use the short moment of chaos to wriggle yourself out of the soldiers grasp, only to be stopped short by your wrist.
"C‘mon short stuff, don’t leave", the bald one shows you an almost apologetic smile that you still struggle to trust. "Ignore these fuckers. Stay for a drink, yeah? I‘m sure the Colonel will be back in a minute. And we have the best beer anyone could get in this shit hole!"
Blame it on the liquor, but your mind was slowly beginning to draw blank, throwing all logic and consequences right out of the window and welcoming the nervous excitement of the forbidden. It felt like there was a pressure in your ribcage, making it harder for you to breathe properly, until you finally exhaled a shaky response.
"Just one."
The thing about working in the military is that you learn to kill your own tells. Killing your own tells is what keeps you from getting that double-tap to the back of the head. But learning how to pick up on what other people do when they're nervous as fuck, that's what’s really helpful, you’ve only just realized.
In hindsight, you should have known that agreeing to one beer that ultimately lead to two more and then to a round of poker was a bad idea. And now you’re perched up on someone’s lap and you don’t even know how poker works. That someone is named Lyle, you remind yourself of the previous learned name. His chin rests on top of your shoulder, nose buried in your shared cards that you hold up for him to see, one of his hands squeezing your hip while the other holds your hands steady.
"This one next," he whispers into your ear, pointing at the card on the far left before you laid it down in front of the table as instructed.
"Three fours showing, and over here…" The recom named Prager slaps another card down face-up in front of you. "Still garbage, sorry sweets. Ace high." Grinning, he pushes three colorful plastic chips into a pile in the middle of table. "I bet three."
The rest of the group remains silent, save for the sound of grinding teeth and stressed sighs.
The nervous trembling of your thighs doesn’t let up when the next round of cards is handed out, so you reach for the can of oversized beer and gulp the rest of it down.
"Relax, buttercup," Lyle chuckles, his hand soothing over your thigh, "You need to work on hiding your tells. You don’t want us to loose, do you?"
"Yeah but ya’ gonna if she keeps that up, Wainfleet," another soldier laughs.
"Poor thing is shaking so much, you might as well bet her next to finally get a lucky streak."
Crimson red fills the apple of your cheeks, barely visible however under the alcohol-induced flush of your skin. But even though your senses are as if in daze and directed at what is happening in front you, you still got enough situational awareness to realise that there’s someone standing in the doorway watching with a tense jaw.
"You gotta be careful," that someone says, the words flowing like nothing ever has, making the hair rise on the nape of your neck. "Betting another man's things like that."
And it should bother you, how easily he can categorize you as one of his things, like a gun or whatever fucking possessions he had, but it doesn't, because you are his. Aren’t you?
"Ah, boss", Lyle laughs, and you may not be a marine or recombinant or anything of the sort, but you could tell that he was nervous. Silence bleeds over the rest of team Deja blue as the Colonel steps into the room, sending cards go flying as he yanks you up by your wrist and throws you over his shoulder like a dead deer. Prey.
You squeak once the room has turned upside down, hands instinctively reaching for the hem of your dress to keep it in place as soldiers ogled the way Quaritch was walking you out of the room without another word and marched down the hallway.
The amount of times you’ve found yourself in his room could be counted on one hand, you came to realize, once you’re thrown onto his bed, almost bouncing off the oversized mattress.
A finger is pointed at you, and shame and dread uncontrollably fill your eyes with tears that dare to spill over as Quaritch barks at you like he’s lecturing a child.
"You listen here very careful, kid", he’s damn near yelling, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him.
Kid.
Being now twenty-six years of age, you certainly took a degree of offense when a man his age still called you 'kid.' There wasn't much childish about you, never have been. Not in the last ten years, so there was no need for him to go running his mouths at you like you were twelve.
Balling your fists at your side, you barked right back at him, "I‘m not a child!"
For several seconds, there was nothing, and you wondered if you’d truly fucked up this time, and you don’t even dare to look up at the man towering over you like a mountain. That is, until the bed suddenly dips and a hand effortlessly closes around your wrist and manhandles you to bend over his lap.
You would squirm and fight and run if it weren't for the iron grip on your wrists, pinning them behind your back like the wings of a butterfly to a board.
"That’s right," he murmurs that part, but the rest comes out more sternly, "So quit actin‘ like one whenever something doesn’t go your way!"
The first blow of his hand descended onto your upturned ass comes so sudden and unexpected, sending you sliding forward over the muscular thigh you were bent over, that you couldn’t help but yelp, before you sucked in a sharp gasp of air as the sting spread through you. "What the— fuck!" You hissed. "What are you even talking about!?"
"What am I talking about?" Quaritch scoffs.
You barely forced yourself to relax when the next one came, making you jump, and duck your head down even lower in a vain attempt to scoot farther away from his hand.
"I can smell the liquor all over you, hun. And the way you were throwing yourself at these little creeps? Don’t act dumb with me. You and I both know damn well what you were trying to do here."
"Y-You’re imagining things!" You protest. Another slap, and this time you could feel the smooth fabric of your dress riding up, giving him unhindered access to the tender flesh beneath. "Fuck, that hurt, you–"
Blow after blow came over you, cutting off every complain and every thought that might’ve formed if you could concentrate enough, and you might have tried counting them but there were so many. Too many, and your ass was burning and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to say you were sorry, you'd never do it again, and maybe the Colonel would stop soon and you could just promise to be good—
But he didn't stop and you heard the smack again and one more landed, and god damn it really fucking hurt. You only realised you had started speaking aloud, babbling apologies and begging for it to stop when fingers ran over your panties, feeling for your throbbing clit beneath the thin fabric.
"Tell me, would you’ve spread your legs for them like you did for me? Thought you could just take what you want because I’m not giving it to you?"
One hand squeezed and molded a cheek, and you moaned as he groped the overly sensitive flesh. If you could gather enough strength to crane your neck and look at him, you would’ve caught the way his ears flicked at the sound of that.
Another slap, this time aimed a little lower, more gentle, with fingertips brushing over your folds at the impact and you let out another moan, less like a painful one and more in a way that was so unmistakable, that when you felt the thigh you laid on tense, you could only guess what was coming now.
"Does this turn you on, getting what you deserve?" Quaritch said lowly, the spanks stopping for a while in favor of torturing you with the barest of touches, rough fingertips flicking over that little bundle of nerves until you were whining and squirming.
"No," you then responded in a hushed whisper.
Pulling the fabric of your panties taunt, Miles gave you a mean wedgie as he inspected the wet patch forming right there. With a chuckle he told you, "you’re pretty little pussy is telling me otherwise."
"That’s– that’s not true!"
"Oh, it’s not? That means you did enjoy all this attention they gave you today, hm? You enjoyed having all these fuckers look at you like you’re candy they want to peel out of its wrapper?"
"I- No, I didn’t–"
Rough fingertips run up and down your slit, cutting you off mid sentence as you feel him pull your slip to the side.
"What were you even doing there?" His voice sounds calmer now, collected, as he thumbs your exposed clit.
"Was looking for you", you mumble, all fight gone the moment warm pleasure fills your veins the more he plays with you like this.
"For me?" Quaritch chuckles, brows raised high. "Why’s that?"
"You know why…" You groan when one of his digits that had been circling your entrance slides into you, painfully slow and teasing, just an inch before it slides out again.
"I do. But I want to hear you say it."
Biting your lip prevents you from giving in to his teasing, but it doesn’t help muffle the moan that’s slips out when he pushes back inside, letting you feel the stretch of your walls as they envelop not one, but two of his thick fingers.
"Missed me, hm?" He grins. You can’t see it from your position, but you can hear that shit eating grin in his voice. And then his fingers start to move. His palm smacks your ass with every thrust, fingers curling inside you to feel for that spongey little spot that made you gasp.
"C‘mon, say it."
He speeds up fast. Too fast for you to catch up with, forcing moans and wet squelching sounds out of you, until you huff out in frustration.
"Fuck, okay! Yes, I missed you." That one actually makes him laugh, enough for you to grind your teeth, turn your head and bark back at him, "And you’re an… you’re a jealous old man!"
"Yeah? That so?"
His eyes seem to pierce right through yours as he glances back at you, grin sharp and dangerous before he grabs you by the waist and spins you around so you’re pushed with your back against the mattress, instead of being uncomfortably bend over his thighs.
If there was one thing that was able to set the butterflies in your tummy alive and making them do little jumping jacks, it was the way Quaritch so easily manhandled you so you were bend like a pretzel, panty shoved down and over your ankles, who were now nearly touching your ears. It was harder to breathe like this, that was for sure. But you don’t mind the position one bit, especially with the view of him laying down flat on his stomach, head neatly nestled between your spread thighs as he admires the wet glossy look of your pussy just begging for him to finally fucking do something.
You had guys go down on you before. Two in total. And it wasn’t like they were necessarily bad at it, it was just that they apparently had learned one way to do it and then decided to stick with whatever that technique was called. And that’s when you decided that being on the receiving end of oral, it wasn’t really for you.
But with Quaritch, you knew from the very second the tip of his tongue parted your folds from your slit to your clit, that it was gonna be different.
It felt like the pleasure was shooting straight up your spine, making your back arch off the bed as he repeated the same motion once more, groaning when your slick juices hit his tastebuds.
"Holy shit", you let the words out in a shaky breath, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling above you.
"Eyes on me, cherry."
Glancing down on yourself, you catch the moment he spreads your folds with his thumbs to get better access to your clit that coyly peeks out from under its hood. Quaritch gives the little nub a teasing tap with his fingertip, and you both watch as a thin string of arousal and spit connect your clit with his finger before it breaks. Not even a split second later and he’s on you again.
You nearly choke on a moan when his lips close around your clit and sucks, his mouth halfway covering your whole cunt as he eats you out, tongue swirling around those sweet spots of yours. The noises he makes are wet, sloppy and so dirty, and it brings you to the edge of that pleasure high faster than you could process.
A hand reaches for his buzzed down hair as he gives you a filthy kiss right where you need it.
"Oh- Oh god, I think I’m gonna come", you moan as his hands slide up to hold you more open than you were before, so that he could taste you again and again, his tongue dipping deeper and deeper inside every time. Your hand curls tighter in his hair, tugging, and you worry for a moment that you were hurting him. Not that this was even possible. Still, you just couldn’t help it– touching him was the only thing anchoring you, as if you would float away and disappear if you‘d move your hands just an inch.
But Quaritch doesn't seem to mind, not if the way he groans, grinds his face against your pussy and thrusts his tongue deeper into you is anything to go by.
You could feel the pleasure growing inside you, in your toes and in your spine and behind your eyelids, and you arch against him, moaning at each touch of his tongue, his lips against your clit– sucking and slurping and kissing. It's building and you’re reaching for it, hips jerking violently as though to follow his mouth, and then you’re falling apart with a gasp that ebbs into a moan.
You don’t even hear yourself for the first couple of seconds, the blood rushing behind your ears drowning out the volume of your moans before your legs finally stop trembling and clenching around the head nestled between them.
Arms falling limp to your sides, you watch your own chest raising and falling in frantic pants. You’re spent and exhausted, truthfully. But you can’t help but notice that the wet glide of the Colonels tongue hasn’t stopped yet. It circles around your clit, not quite touching it, just teasing.
"Miles", you call for him, soft and quiet, voice hoarse from moaning. You’re not prepared for the sudden suction on raw nerves created by his puckered lips, and you cry out in surprise. Your legs twitch in overstimulation as he sucks and groans, the vibrations only adding further to the stimulation that quickly morphs from uncomfortable to pleasurable. "M-Miles, fuck! I- I can’t, wait!"
Your back nearly arches off the bed, if it weren’t for his his hands keeping you in place. It felt like his tongue was everywhere at once, licking every inch of your cunt, all those places that brought yet another orgasm rushing forward.
Unable to control the movements of your body, you pump your hips against his face as your stomach muscles clench and your head digs into the pillow underneath you.
"Can’t, I can’t", you mewl, "s‘too much!"
"No, you will take it", he says, barely lifting his head to speak and the air that blows out between his words send a full on body shiver through you. "You will take it because that’s what little sluts get. I‘m only giving you all this attention that you were seeking today and now you’re complaining?"
It takes a moment for you to find your voice.
"I‘m not- not a slut", you protest. Glancing down at Quaritchs face, his wet chin and lips slicked with you, his lips curl in diabolical pleasure.
"No? Then whose humping my face like this? Who’s been fucking dripping all over my thighs from being spanked, huh? Cherry, you are a little slut. A desperate one too."
His sharp tongue then flicks over your clit again, and you break into a thousand pieces. It feels so good you’re shaking, as red hot pleasure surges through your veins and clouds your vision. Your second orgasm ebbs away faster than the first, but is nonetheless as intense. The feel of sticky wet arousal soaking the sheets below you makes you cringe and you want to move away, but the iron grip he has on your thighs doesn’t falter. If anything, he just holds you more secure, pulls you closer, to press his tongue into you as far as it could reach.
"Oh god- please, I can’t!" You nearly sob, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes while Quaritch flattens his tongue to catch every droplet of slick running down your slit. "Give me a break!"
"One more," he purrs, dark and sinister, his sharp grin visible even as he peeks up from between your legs.
"I don’t know if I can," you whine, throwing your head back at the invitation of sensations that just don’t let up.
"You can and you will."
The pressure of his suction continues as he moves his tongue, trailing it along your lips and over to your clit again. He sucks the sensitive nub and then slides two fingers inside your body, curving them, increasing their pressure as your loud moans turn into screams.
Miles wraps his free arm around your waist, stilling your trembling hips and locking you in place. He increases the thrusts of his digits, rubbing intently against your walls as he sucks harder on your throbbing clit. He's determined to make you see stars and it’s for him to decide when this insanely pleasurable form of torture is finally over.
You could only hope, pray and moan to him, god or whoever– as you felt the beginning tremors of what you hoped would be your last orgasm for the night course through your body, and your legs clamp tightly, unable to withstand the sheer intensity of it.
Sensing the growing tension in your body, Miles suddenly pulls back, replacing his mouth with his thumb on your clit, stroking around the glands before touching it directly, causing you to cry out.
He grins, catching his breath, and then continues his assault on your body until you’re past the point of return, walls clenching around his fingers and thighs pressed firmly to his shoulders, framing his head.
It’s heat against heat, hot tongue against hotter folds, and you throw your head back and sob with relief. It’s good, really good— his tongue is long enough so that when he laps at you he hits your clit on the upswing every time. Your hips buck once its too much, his tongue nearly rubbing you raw but he holds you down and then it becomes just right as you fall apart with a cry.
It takes several minutes for your senses to come back together, regain your vision and hearing, and when you blink your sore eyes open, you’re met with Quaritch‘s, just as he’s finishing leaving a final mark on your inner thigh. His teeth have left a purplish imprint on your soft skin and he grins at you.
"You’re mine. Never forget that."
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1-0t0r · 1 year
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i-i want him too...🫦
(reference)
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lolita-lollipop · 1 year
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A green dress
MILES QUARITCH X READER
(Implied age gap, quaritch just being whipped, his team laughing at him for it)
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The first time quaritch saw you, was at a banquet, held for hugh ranking military officials in their honor.
You were younger than most of the honored officials here, wearing a short little green dress, one that hugged your waist snugly, and little heels that did absolutely nothing other than exxentuate how much smaller you were than all the giant military men and women here. Not covered in tattoos, not almost 7 feet tall, not muscular like you worked out every day. It intrugued him, usually only the same type of people showed up to these events, people that were either required to go, or people that wanted to come to talk about themselves. You certainly werent at all like him.
You didnt seem like either of those people, you didnt necessarily look unhappy to be here, unlike those who were glued to their phones with a scowl, you were sitting with a pleasent smile, tucked in a corner of the room. But you also werent exactly social, it was obvious you knew nobody here, unlike those who were flaunting their medals and drinking like there was no tommorow, you just sat there in your little green dress and tiny heels, staring at the people around. On the occassion a man or a woman would try to get you to dance with them, but you would politely decline.
It confused him honestly, a pretty girl like you coming to an event like this, and not wanting to go home with someone. Even though quaritch was engaged in a conversation with his team, he couldnt peel his eyes off of you, couldnt stop trying to figure you out, figure out why you were. Figure out why he felt like he had to figure you out. It was so strange, he would try to come up and talk to you, puffing his chest out and standing up as tall as he could, but the second he would come even close, those eyes of yours, that dress, made him feel like a silly llittle schoolboy, and he would turn around.
How silly was that? Colonol miles quaritch, a man who had come back to earth for a few weeks for a series of parties in his honor , the guy who traveled space and invaded planets with a cold heart, the strongest fifty-something here was too shy to talk to a girl.
By the time he had finally mustered up the courage to go up to your table, your bag wasnt on the seat anymore, your chair was pushed in nice and neat, you had left before he even got the chance to say a word to you. The teasing from his team was endless. Lynel went as far as to call quaritch a little baby boy,
Lynel also happened to get punched in the face that night, by some coincidence.
----
The next time he saw you, you were wearing the same exact little green dress, and the same exact little black heels, this time you had your hair tied back though, but you were just as beautiful as last time. You still acted the same, sitting alone fiddling with the napkin at your table, watching and listening to the people around, refusing the occasional request to dance. Still catching the complete attention of the one and only Miles Quaritch.
Except this time, he wasnt going to chicken out. The second he saw you, he completely walked away from lynel and his squad, they all wolf whistled and hooted as he made his way along. Doing the same thing as last time, puffing out his chest and flexing, appearing as strong as he could. Miles quaritch was an attractive man, and he no doubt knew it, but still, the thought of you looking at him and seeing a weak old man, that made him feel sick. He wouldnt let you think that. You couldn’t.
He pulled out the chair next to you, settling himself down, leaning back and spreading his legs, towering over you even as he sat down. You payed no acknowledgement, seemingly lost in your own train of thought, your hands fiddled with the napkin, folding and pulling at the threads. Your eyes were fixed on one of the walls in the bright room, wide, staring. It was honestly adorable, you were completely zoned out, completely oblivious.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing at an event like this?” he spoke, placing his elbows on the table and setting a hand on top of the napkin, his words snapped you out of your trance. And you locked eyes with his, the colonels squad was hooting and screaming like madmen in the corner, he paid absolutely no attention to them. You stared at him for a moment, or more so stared up at him, pulling your hands away from the napkin, and unintentionally making his hand fall in your lap. Your dress was velvet, he hadnt realized.
“Hm?” you let out, staring at him with those eyes of yours. God you were so gorgeous, up close it was even better. And you looked even cuter with that confused look on your face, your voice was high pitched, laced with a little bit of that far away look you had just moments ago.
“I mean i would hate to assume, but you don't look like the type of crowd i would see here. Not many of us look like… you. “ he drawled in his southern accent, you tensed when he didnt make any move to take his hand out of your lap. Quaritch had to hold back the string of complements he wanted to give to you, not wanting to freak you out more, as you already looked like a deer in headlights.
“Oh- i-im not in the military. Im an intern- uh- in science. I’m just trying to get my masters right now- um. My boss wanted me to come in case he needed a ride home.” you spluttered, now understanding his question. Yes, quaritch scared you, being tall, wise, big, strong, heartless in a way that no man here was, obviously he was intimidating, especially since youd known how he felt about science. Safe to say colonel miles quaritch was not someone who went by the books. You, on the other hand, were the exact opposite. It wasnt your fault you could barely string out a sentence to the man, he was scary, even to some of the highest military officials. Let alone a little intern to a little company.
“A scientist huh? Whaddya study?” he finally retracted his hand, and you relaxed, only for him to give you a stare that pierced into the center of your heart, a gaze that confused you, made you feel strange. He let a smirk splay across his face, understanding what he was doing to you, all of his confidence came back to him when he saw the way you couldnt meet his gaze, instead looking down at your hands, and fiddling your thumbs.
“Oh- I work in software engineering- I help design technology that you guys use up there- like those masks.” You replied in a hushed tone, still staring down into your lap. He perked an eyebrow at you, still letting that smirk of his burn itself in your brain. The room around seemed to paying much more attention to the two of you than their own conversations, the only little scientist in the room having a conversation with miles quaritch.
“Well isnt that adorable? You must like it-” he continued in that teasing tone that very clearly made your cheeks heat up. You really couldnt tell if you wanted him to keep talking or if you wanted him to go away. It was decided for you though, when your boss, wearing a fitted black suit covered in medals and awards he won, placed his hand on your shoulder and squeezed a little too hard for quaritches liking, you let out a squeak in suprise.
“Time to leave, im getting tired. Get up and take me home.” The short little man kept his hand on your shoulder, and stared at quaritch, who was scowling at him for interrupting him. Nobody did that, he was especially annoyed that it was when he was talking to you, in fact if it werent for you here he wouldve punched the guy in the face. The man paid no respect to you, ordering you around like a little servant, and you just let him, bless your heart, it made quaritch want to stab him more than hes ever wanted to stab anybody.
“Yes sir. Uhm- bye.” you finally met the giant mans eyes for a split second, a vulnerable, almost scared look laced throughout, it was obvious, the man with his hand on your shoulder scared you, and you couldnt do anything about it.
“Bye sweetheart, see ya next time” And with a threatening stare sent to your boss from quaritch, you picked up your little green handbag, and pushed in your chair, walking away at your bosses tail. Your little heels clicked against the floor, and quaritch watched as your green dress disappeared in the crowd of people.
Fuck.
---
The last time quaritch saw you on earth, you were still wearing that same little green dress he had grown to look out for, yet again at another party, the final one he would be attending before returning to pandora. Except this time, he showed up early, and he wasnt letting you slip away, not like the other times.
Immediately upon seeing you, fiddling with the napkin again, a habit that he’d figured you’d picked up out of boredom, he took no time in walking away from lyle, cutting their conversation short, and pulling up a chair again, like last time. But he had a plan now, and he knew it wouldnt fail, it couldn’t.
“Theres my favorite software engineer. I don't think I introduced myself last time, it's Quaritch, Colonel Miles Quaritch.”
“Oh. Yeah, I know.” you softly spoke, placing the napkin down this time and actually meeting his gaze, you were short, and curt. You werent like this last time he spoke to you, you didnt give him a pleasant smile, You werent open and sweet like last time. You looked more like a scared child than a scientist with a phd. You had this look in your eyes, basically telling him to go away, like you would get in trouble if he didnt.
“Oh? I must be pretty popular for a girl like you to know about me. Got a reputation right?” he teased, letting that predator-like smile of his spread across his face, the man stared down at you waiting for you to reply. You just sat there, curling in upon yourself, trying to sink into the seat and disappear. He didnt know what was wrong, but you clearly were almost scared of speaking to him, and he didnt like it, not one bit.
“Uhm- sir. I’m not supposed to talk to you, please go away.” you looked back into your hands, further bending your posture, which only made you look smaller than you were, at least compared to how he saw you. THe more he looked at you, the more he noticed, That little green dress of yours was starting to wear down, the emerald green fading to grey, the shoulders stretching out slightly. Your words brought a frown across his already- naturally angry face.
“And why not?” Those words alone had your breath hitching, a sense of mild stress humming at the back of your brain, you could feel your bossses eyes on you.
“I-i don't know. My boss just told me not to.” You sent a glance to the fat man standing in a tight fitting black suit, the man was standing there, staring right back, a threatening glare set in his features. So thats what it was. Quaritch was already a violent man, being the one leading expiditions against the natives of pandora. And he certainly didnt think he could further his violence, but oh boy did he want to now.
“Well then, i’ll make this quick. I want you to work for me, cupcake.” He spoke, louder than the rest of the room, intentionally of course, he wasnt intending on making a scene at first. But now he wanted your boss to hear, he wanted your boss to know that he was the man you were leaving him for.
“Uh- what?” you barely spluttered out, eyes locked on your boss, or soon to be old boss. The thought alone of working for such a man scared you, sure, you didnt like your boss, not one bit, but he wasnt all bad, he sometimes let you go home for lunch, or if he didnt want his moring coffee he would let you have it. You didnt know colonel miles quaritch, yes, you knew of him, and what you knew of him wasnt good, he was cruel, killed so many, broken so much equipment. Payed no reguard for the world around him.
But.. he also seemed so nice. He asked you about your work, complimented you and what you did, called you pretty. So much nicer than your own boss had ever been. Would it really be all that bad? You already worked in a government job, but you were more of an assistant than a scientist, if you actually went to pandora you would be able to see so much more, do so much more. You could gain a title, an actual place.
“You wouldnt be an assistant anymore- and we sure got more science up there than youll ever see down here. Ill treat ya real nice, don't worry. So whaddya say?” he spoke, the country drawl behind his voice coming out, one that made you nervous. He placed a hand on your shoulder, forcing you to look up at him, you stayed silent, doing nothing but staring at him with those wide eyes of yours.
“Cmon, Ill pay you triple whatever he is, and all travel and housing is free. Ill even buy you a new little dress. “ His hand squeezed gently, and you couldnt help but think that the rumors about this man werent all true, he seemed so soft, so gentle. Not yelling at you, paying respect to your work, treating you like a person, not an object. Although the things he made you feel were strange, and confusing, what could be the worst that could happen.
Well, for starters, this could be a trick and you could die up there, or be abused, or working as a scientist for the military on another planet wouldnt turn out exactly how you wanted it to. You knew you should say no, say that you wanted to stay down here on earth, where it's safe, where it's quiet, where youre just an assistant, you knew you shouldnt, you knew you should say no, you knew that this was a bad idea. You HAD to say no, you have to.
“O-okay, Ill have to turn in my two weeks though- so i cant go very soon- and I have a cat so that might-”
“Don't worry darlin, ill get it all sorted out for you, just oack up all your pretty little things and ill do the rest.”
---
Quaritches sqad had known what quaritch felt about you, since the first time hed seen you and his eyes didnt leave the little woman in the little green dress and little black heels, none of them wouldve ever assumed a soft girl like you, a scientist no less, to be his type. But still, there you were, shyly staring at the man. None of them had ever seen quaritch look like he did right now, look like he actually wanted something, like he had to work for it.
Oh my god he looked like a lost puppy.
They all cackled at the man, giggling like toddlers when he came back all red like a little schoolboy. The same man that yelled at them day and night folding for some little intern? Unheard of. They were beyond shocked when they saw you again, and yet again, their boss approached you, shock turned to laughter and more drinks soon, and by the end of the night, so many theories had been made on you.
Maybe you were the daughter of someone important
Maybe you were rich
Maybe quaritch liked younger women
Maybe you were just sweet
You certainly looked the type
No matter how hard they tried to find the exact reason quaritch liked a soft little thing like you, they couldn’t place it. It suprised them to no end when he told them how he was taking you out on a date the last day he was staying on earth. Him? Taking a girl out? Unheard of. What’s next, a pretty little picnic with butterflies and rainbows?
Nope.
Something even more shocking.
“Team, meet our newest addition, y/n. We’re gonna treat her real nice right? “ the man had a hand placed on your shoulder in a protective stance, daring any single one of them to say anything that would make you uncomfortable. The team connected eyes, holding back small snickers at how possessive the colonel was acting. He didn’t even seem to realize it either.
“Ehm- yes. Hi, I’m y/n” oh god- everything about you was just the exact opposite of quaritch, soft, timid, almost spacy. Lynel locked eyes with his boss for a few seconds, a mischievous smirk splayed across his face.
“Of course we will, after all that trouble little miles over here had to go through to get you- wouldn’t want to-“ he begun teasing, but was promptly met with a boot to the face. The team giggled at Lynel gargling under quaritch foot, but he payed no mind. Placing a hand around your waist and sending a glare back to the group, all who were smirking and smiling like he’d said something stupid, quaritch begun walking, you in tow.
“Now, let me show you your new room,
Cupcake”
———————————————————————
Please leave any comment at all on what you think, just seeing those comments makes me happy, and don’t think I don’t read each one individually.
The way I know quaritch is literally a mass murderer but I don’t even care- like I didn’t know I had these issues until I started having these issues.
Not requested, just noticed a lack of quaritch content that appealed to me ( aka not smut) and wanted to make it a reality. Stilll, thank you so much for reading!
Anyway, have a great day! Bye!
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littlesugarcube45 · 10 months
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Here comes your sample
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wain-fleets · 8 months
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looks better if you press it grahh
anyways, he loves the way you taste ❗
this isnt anyone specific, it can be whoever you want it to.
we love sloppy slobber messes. saliva love squad. *SPIT ON IT*
girly got her work cut out for her.
my thought process during this was miles would love to bite. licking, sucking, biting. hes even better at it now that hes got his kitty teef.
***i just know hes a pussy eater*** GUHGUH
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and I KNOW jake be SLURPIN dont even..
uhgg..
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kaspavanlortsyal · 1 year
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"One life ends, another begins."
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Petra Hart & Miles Quaritch.
Art by: @veramitar
From the fanfic Let It Be Enough by @kaspavanlortsyal
(This is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen. Thank you so, SO much veramitar!)
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vinciwolf · 1 year
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Three Is a Magic Number
Recom!Miles Quaritch x (fem)Reader x Recom!Lyle Wainfleet
Warnings: SMUT, NSFT, THREESOME, sex, voyeurism, general cussing, blowjob, piv, anal, dom/sub, tail pulling, rough sex, spanking, dirty talk, fingering, masturbation, reader is female, Jesus take the whole ass car
Tags: @justasimps-blog​ @whxre-bxby​ @atwow69​ @nanamislut321​ @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed​ @mechformers​ @luciddasher​
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Being a newly awoken Recom, it wasn’t your intent when you caught the attention of the two fiercest Marines in the Deja Blu team. Whenever you would notice Quaritch side eyeing your figure from across the room, you hadn’t seen the other pair of eyes that equally shared that hint of yearning for your consideration. It wasn’t a competition to see who would get into your pants the fastest, neither Miles or Lyle knew that they BOTH had an infatuation with the same person.
However, it was Miles who approached you first. And first come, first serve.
Downtime was fleeting between missions, but he found a way to hint the obvious attraction he had for you. There would be a brisk tap on your elbow to make space for him at the briefing table, or your favorite, the gentle snatch of your tail when the two of you passed each other alone in the hallway. It was subtle… to keep suspicions from festering. Touch was hard when others were around but exhilarating when eyes could not see or hear.
The shower was your favorite spot for that.
"Ah, ah, AH!" you panted while being driven against the shower floor, legs hoisted up by Miles' tight grip as he quickly speared himself into you, the splatter of water coming from the showerhead the only other noise to be heard in this secret alone time. Or so you two thought was ‘alone.’
There, standing a few stalls down, Wainfleet had been fisting himself roughly to the sounds of your echoing whines, the butt of his fangs driving ever deeper into his bottom lip to muffle his arousal. Jealously wasn’t in his wheel of emotions, but he was a little disappointed that his superior had wooed you so easily when it was difficult for him to open up around you. Over time, he embraced the fact that he would have to admire you from afar, even if that meant also hearing Miles seethe and growl on top of you when plowing your lovely pussy that sounded so divine with the wet noises it emitted. Pressing a thumb into the head of his length, he ejaculated into the drainage, a hand bracing on the tile wall as he came hard.
A few days had gone by and you were jogging along the perimeter of Bridgehead with Z-dog and Walker, still heating up in the cheeks as your mind was occupied by the shower incident. If only these two women new that you had been fucking their superior and having constant horny thoughts about the image of his cock. Did they know what it looked like? How good he sounded whenever you kissed the tip before devouring it whole with your tiny mouth. Another wave of blissful shame deepened the color of your face when Z-dog asked you what had gotten you biting your lip. You hadn’t realized that your daydreaming expressed itself so shamelessly in front of her and Walker.
“Oh, just thinking~” you went along, waving her off.
Then the jog came to a standstill.
“Yeah? Thinking about someone?” her tone was playfully curious, egging you to go on.
“Thinking about Wainfleet?” Walker smiled, teasing.
“Oh, my goodness! It happened! You two finally fucked!” Z-dog chimed excitingly.
If your cheeks were a deep lavender, they sunk even farther down into the dark tones of purple at this point while the two Recoms joked about your love life, only to your shock that they got the wrong person mixed up with Miles.
“Oh, god, we broke her, Z!” Walker laughed.
“No, no, we didn’t fuck! You got—” you paused yourself from blurting out ‘you got the wrong person’ like an idiot. “You got it all wrong!”
“What’s there to get wrong?” the tattooed one exclaimed puzzled. “Do you see the way he looks at you? If y’all haven’t fucked already, I’d be surprised because that man is in love.”
This was all a little overwhelming and sudden to hear. It took everything not to run as you quizzed and reflected on the two Recoms’ indirect confession for Lyle. Had you really been that stiff not notice his movements or his gaze that screamed his heart wanting you to notice him. This pissed you off that you were so entangled with the Colonel that you didn’t realize the other affectionate Marine in front of you this whole damn time.
“Anyway, let’s finish,” Z-dog said to then hop into a run as Walker followed suit.
Not a moment longer, you joined them from behind, mind still in thought at how Lyle liked you from afar. Your chest ached with guilt when you thought maybe he knew and didn’t confess because he understood you had been heels to Jesus for another man, more specifically his closest friend.
~
After completing your run, drenched in sweat, you headed to your private shower in your room. The sports bra you flung to the floor make a smack as you undressed and turned over the handle to splash your face with hot water, hands scrubbing your body furiously as you were still tossing over what the two Recoms had said earlier. It made you angry, sad, and anxious, fogging your mind up trying to figure out when Lyle had started acting differently, and if you DID notice but never paid proper attention. This more your mind fell down the rabbit hole, the more you understood, and the more you found yourself falling little by little for the poor Corporal. Had you had feelings for him all along and not realized? He was handsome and nice to be around, always cracking jokes. Maybe you could love him eventually just like you had with Miles.
There was a click to your room door as it slowly slid open, unbeknownst to your riled up mind occupied by washing away the day and your anxiety. Once you were clean, you dried yourself off, still wiping the backside of your ear, and stepped into your empty room, only to halt when your eyes landed on Miles and Lyle filling the tiny space, towel slowly inching down to try and cover your naked tits and privates, cheeks flushing hot. Your tail curled at the sight of them. They were away on a mission but guessing they are here with you in your quarters, alone, as you were naked, you guessed the mission was a success. Nonetheless, your body reacted, mouth swallowing deeply, as the two Marines were in their basics. Lyle had his cargo pants and not a single article covering his topside making your heart jump at how toned he was, a V of muscles disappearing into his beltline. Miles had a tank top on, big arms braced on the hip, and pants hugging his tight waist just right that had your folds excited, almost making you forget that you were naked and vulnerable.
“We had a talk,” Miles gravelly voice filled the room.
That was all that was said before Lyle stepped forward, took your face, and kissed you, tongue shoving deep into your mouth, your towel falling from your hands as your mind soared. His tongue was needy and coached yours around his in a fiery dance that had your hands trembling as they wrapped around his neck before your knees could give out.
It definitely wasn’t your plan to fall for one of the top agents on the Deja Blu team, let alone having his second in command fall for you as well. But nevertheless, here you were, on your knees, cock stuffed balls deep in your mouth while nipples were pinched and tugged from the Colonel at your back.
"Fuck, Boss, her mouth does feel amazing~"
Eyes blurry, it would be an understatement if it was said that the tears begging to spill down your overheated face were hard to suppress considering you were choking happily on the length that passed itself in and out your mouth with glee from the Corporal who groaned at the sight of your face around his manhood. Feeling a tear about to fall, you scrunched your eyes and pleaded that it would stay inside your eyeball. Lyle helped you with a thumb swiping the ball of your cheek to keep that pretty face clean of any wetness that wasn't from him, like the mixture of semen and drool leaking from your swollen lips as you delightfully whimpered sucking him up. Then a hand landed a harsh blow to the soft flesh of your ass, already angry and burning from previous disciplinary swipes to your rear whenever you allowed a drop to shed. It took many hits, but you learned, leaving your one cheek painful and aching.
Wetness pooled onto the huge, bare thigh that sat beneath your rear, pussy clenching around nothing, when you began to imagine the Corporal’s cock in your mouth inside your folds instead as, feeling the hips near your face sputter, you knew he was about to cum any minute.
“Not yet,” Miles commanded before popping you off his cock, a string of saliva dangling between your mouth and the tip. “It feels better when you’re inside her.”
Lyle tsked trying to prevent his cock from jutting his excitement on your face. He wanted to save that for later, for you, but it was hard when he took in the sloppy mess you were on his superior’s leg on the floor, as the bed was too small for three to share. Pink flashed over his bottom lip from the neediness you displayed. Wanting to give you everything, he slouched to your position onto his knees, cock still straight and weeping, wiped your face with his fingers, then embraced your lips into another breathy kiss causing you to mewl into him as he dragged his tongue around the edge of your mouth.
Being pulled into the Corporal’s lap, nothing could prepare your mind before you felt his hardness nudge against your clit as it sat upright between the small space of your legs wrapped around the body in front of you. Heat swelled your face, hands bracing his chest, as you melted further into his body edging you closer to him, hands raking down the tenderness of your backside. It was lengthy and squished into your mound that made your head dizzy. You wanted him inside you so bad, voice in your throat needy trying to get more from the Marine with every swab of your tongue along his. He rumbled out his chest and indented your skin in response, but the Colonel started to speak from behind, eyes dark and blown out from your squirming form.
“Being such a good girl, imma prep you first,” the Colonel said. “He’s gonna be big for that tight hole….” Then he chuckled. “I would know. He’s actually a good lover.”
Breaking away, your heavy lids blinked slowly at the thought of Miles and Lyle fucking in the woods while away on their previous assignment. The Recom at your front smirked.
“Oh, yeah, babygirl, we exchanged boners while away.”
At that, the world tilted until you were horizontal with the ground from Lyle leaning back onto the cool floor taking you with him, your arms folded under your breasts and over his chest to support yourself, tongue continuing to lap and travel the expanse of your mouth through the quick change in position. Then a light cry fled your lungs when the base of your tail was used to hoist your rear into the air under your knees.
Miles’ eyes grew hungry when he spread your cheeks and found the mess that leaked from your folds. It was everywhere between your thighs and covered a good portion of your plush crack making for a perfect entrance as his two long fingers played with it before sliding into your cunt in a single push. You didn’t resist, tilting yourself into his fingers that pumped you full, whining from the overwhelming emotions their passage going in and out of your slit gave. It was addicting having your like this in such an obedient angle, taking him without much complaint and eager for him to make the most of your body. Your voice got higher when his fingers plunged you nearer to falling off Lyle, the Corporal’s fingers interlocking with yours as you rocked yourself on top of him to completion. Only when you calmed down, the pads of the Colonel fingers helping you through your spell of pleasure, did he exit, listening to you below panting into Lyle’s chest. Cum covered his digits to then be cleaned off with the hard suck of his lips. Now he was painfully stiff and in need of a release himself.
“I’d say she’s ready for you, Wainfleet,” his Boss grinned at him.
For so long, his hand was his only pathway to quell his needs. There were days when he’d desperately try to replace his palm with what he’d imagine your walls accepting him in from tip to base would feel like. Now that Lyle had you, he was nervous, yet excitement drew him to you. Curiosity led him to scoop you up in his arms to then gently place you on the floor with your ass facing his hips, hands trembling when he took your waist. No number of mental fantasies could prepare him for the moment the mushroomed tip of his cock passed your folds and descended into a warm, velvety bliss that had his eyes rolling backwards.
You took him with a drawn-out moan, nails scraping the hard floor as the shaft stretched you a bit and carried you to the burning edge. He was so long and heavy and took his time filling the void until you could feel his sack brush your clit. There was a pause as the Recom savored this moment. You enjoyed the sensation of him settled inside you and figured quickly that he’d also want to appreciate this for a few seconds. It was your first time with him, causing a deep blush to spread into your features as your nose nudged the floor in your attempt to hide your delight. Then the cock moved having you see stars.
Lyle watched where you were joined and ate with his eyes how you hugged him and sucked him in with every thrust. Each buck got him groaning with the way you clenched and grabbed him so tightly and it had his brain thinking of nothing but having his cum deep inside you. After not too long, the Recom’s body flushed itself skin to skin with your backside, his cheek pressing near yours as he panted into your ear sending bursts of arousal through your core. He was quick and desperate, ramming your cunt with everything he had. Your head was blistering with your heart taking flight while your mind was altered by the large shaft hitting just the right angle.
“F-fuck-right there-don’t stop-don’t stop!” you begged.
Miles gripped just below the fuzzy tip of his subordinate’s tail and yanked it, getting from him a husky grunt. The puckered hole of his ass needed some stretching first, so the Colonel gathered some of the slick that was spilling from your stuffed folds to hastily prep the Corporal. If the throaty and rough sounds blowing into the shell of your ear were low, they got deeper as Lyle took his superior’s cock with one push. Still holding onto the tail that tried to flick in his grasp, Miles pounded into the Recom at a rapid pace.
“Oh, fuck, you’re still tight for someone who took my girth in the woods.”
The air was filled with the lewd sounds of bodies fucking each other and heavy panting. Your face dripped with sweat with a hint of a smile tugging at the edge of your mouth as your face was smushed against Lyle’s who bated hotly into your cheek, both your faces flushed with a deep cobalt. Your hand had stretched out to pillow your head instead of on the floor to which gave the Corporal space to bend his arm underneath your armpit and curl himself nearer to you in this heated mess. His other arm snaked around your stomach and prodded your hardened clit, egging a sweet whine to flow from your mouth which had him frantically circling an orgasm out of you for the second time. You never knew your day would end up like this – in the thralls with two of the deadliest RDA personnel, but you couldn’t be happier. The air was thick and warm and nothing but the sway and coupling of these three bodies could be heard in your ears. You wanted to be used, you wanted Lyle to ruin you.
“I’m-I’m close-fuck I’m close-where!?” he blushed deeply as he whimpered beside you.
“Inside,” you breathed.
Miles rutted faster as he came unglued and spilled himself with a shameless howl.
Lyle couldn’t hold himself any longer and shot his release into your walls making you cry. His cum felt amazing while it pulsated and filled you to the brim, some flooding out and down your clenched stomach.
After that, you slumped, limbs weak, feeling amazing. The Colonel pulled out first and sat on your bed with a satisfied sigh. The Recom on top of you pushed himself up and delicately pried his cock from your relaxed cunt, having enough strength to take you into his arms and place you on the bed with Miles as the two went to work cleaning you up. It was a shame thought Lyle, having to wipe up his cum from your beautifully glistening lips. He would’ve preferred to stuff it back in, but he knew he’d be back to fill up that pretty pussy again.
That night, after you gave the two Recoms goodbye kisses, you had the best sleep of your life.
~
Jogging ahead of Z-dog and Walker, this was the first time in weeks that you had outpaced the two in a run. The tattooed Recom looked over too her friend and they both shared a look of oddity, the muscular one bunching her shoulders up to indicate that she didn’t know why you were acting so spunky today.
Knowing that they most definitely noticed your good mood today, a grin spread across your features. This time, they didn’t mix up any facts. You were happy, but little did they know that the source of that joy came from the cum stuffed panties beneath your sweatpants, courtesy of Miles and Lyle who fucked you that morning ‘til both their seed dripped out your cunt.
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