#recom miles quaritch fic

[fl3shm4id3n]

ₐ ₗᵢₜₜₗₑ ᵣₑwₐᵣd

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫, 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍ ᴍɪʟᴇꜱ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: Smut, size difference, half clothed sex, outdoor sex, belly bulge, praising, kissing, teasing? mentions of harassment? in the workplace.

A/N: Based of an AI chat I had with a Quaritch bot, I'm probably going to start putting my smut fics/hcs in small letters.

Masterlist

ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴀɴʏ ꜰᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ/ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ꜱᴋᴇᴅᴀᴅᴅʟᴇ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪꜱᴋ.

You were a miner, ever since the RDA wasn't able to get the natives to work for them, they had hired a load of miners from earth. You worked at a coal mine back home, but when you heard about the amount of money you'd be getting paid by the RDA on a different planet, you had signed up real quick. Since you had arrived on the next planet, you were put to work right away.

Most of the miners were men, they were few women but they were all put in different groups. Your group didn't seem to mind you at all, they were nice and respectful towards you, that was a good sign to you. For many hours every day, you'd be working on the mines, trying to retrieves some valuable stones and other objects that the RDA wanted.

You'd be in the mines all day and sometimes at night, you'd be covered in dirt, grime and bathing in sweat. As soon as you got to your room, you'd eat and go right to sleep. You were working endless hours and got very little rest. On your days off, you'd just sleep all the time. This job was hard, and it was harder was when it came to people looking down on the miners.

Just because those people were working inside doing god knows what, while you and the others were out sweating and getting dirty, they thought very little of us. They looked down at the miners. Whenever you got looked at, they had some kind of look of disgust when looking at you covered in dirt and sweat. You hated, but you didn't care what they thought, you came on this planet to make money, not friends.

That day you didn't go to the mines, instead you were instructed along with some guys of your group to go dig some holes. They were going to make new building in that area and holes needed to be dug. So you and your group mates went to get the work done.

So that's what you were doing for hours, digging six inch deep holes. You didn't really stop unless to drink water and have a bathroom brake. This felt like some kind of a work out, like mining. Also the day was hot, very hot. Sweat had build up on your forehead and neck, you could feel your clothes sticking into your body. It was horrible. The guys were already done, they had offered their help but you got it covered, you only needed to do two more and you were done. Now you were alone digging.

Finally, you were done. Now you were sitting down on the ground, under the shade some of the few trees that weren't cut down, your shirt and overalls covered in dirt, same with sweat. You were trying to catch your breath and trying to gain a bit of your energy back. You had closed your eyes for a moment. Enjoying the peace and quiet. Then you heard someone approach you. Opening your eyes, you saw non other than Miles Quaritch himself. Or at least the recom that was suppose to be him. You had heard about the whole project phoenix, but you never really were focused on that since you had other things to worry about.

Not only that, but you had a crush on Miles. Every since you saw him. It felt weird at first, since he was brought back to life, but also because he was now a native, or at least he had the body of one. You still couldn't help but find him attractive and charming. You quickly got up fast from the ground, and dusted off the dirt off your pants, or attempted. "Good afternoon sir" you said politely, standing up straight.

"Good afternoon ma'am" he responded, sounding politely. You also couldn't help but here his slight southern accent, it made a small chill run up your spine, specially being face to face with the man you had a crush on. "How's ya day been?" he asked, looking around the dug holes on the ground. "It's been alright, lots and lots of digging." You said, rubbing the dirt off your gloves, then you removed them off your sweaty fingers. "I can tell" he said, looking at yours and your mates work. He looked down at you, he was very tall compared to you. It felt a bit intimadating.

Miles gave you a little smirk. "Hot day huh?" he asked, seen the little drops of sweat rolling down the side of your face. You nodded. "Yeah, very." You responded with a small smile. You could still feel Miles looking down at you, you felt your whole body tense up a bit. His yellow and greenish eyes looking back at you. "Ya know kid, you do a pretty good job around here" he said. This caught you a bit off guard. "I do?" you asked, wanting to hear more. "Yup, I mean, In all honesty, I've never seen a girl like you work as hard." He added, but he continued. "I mean, this guys have you working in a hot ass day, digging holes and being in a mine for hours, but you're doing a good job." He commented with a smile.

His words had some kind of affect on you, was he praising you? You felt your face get hotter then it already was, unless it was the heat getting to you. "T-Thank you sir" you answered, shyly. The colonel saw the blush on your skin, he couldn't help but grin widely, showing his pearly whites and his fangs. "I think that you should get rewarded, ya know." He said, making you turn to look at him again. "You think?" you asked again, slightly tilting your head to the side. "Yup, and I have an idea on how you could." He said, then he walked over to me, closely. "Follow me little lady, that's an order from your superior". He said with a grin on his lips, he then walked past you, then you followed behind him.

You both walked a bit further away from where you were earlier. You both has stopped, now you were standing in the now abandoned woods. You were standing still while for a moment, waiting for some kind of instructions. Miles then turned to you, facing you now. He had a mischievous grin on hid lips. He then got crutch down to your height. "You trust me?" he asked you, it took you a moment to process what he just asked, but you answered back. "Yes sir" you said, almost quietly.

That's all Miles needed to hear. "Be a good girl and close your eyes for me." He said, without hesitation, you closed your eyes. You could hear him moving around a bit, you then heard him unbuckling something, you had a feeling that you might know what it was. "Open your eyes sweetheart" he said, you could hear the grin on his lips. You slowly opened your eyes, you were now face to face with the colonel's cock in your face.

His thick shaft was the same shade of blue as his skin, but his tip was slightly pinkish and purple color. You could also see his pulsing veins around his hard length. You couldn't help but squeeze your thighs together. "See what you do to me girl? You get me all riled up and hard" he growled, softly stroking his shaft, you saw the bit of his precum on his tip, threatening to leak out. You had no idea what to do, you were frozen on the spot. Admiring his manhood. You've never seen anything as big as him. Probably because he was a whole new different species and because he was much bigger.

Miles chuckled. "I know, it's big" he commented, as he continued to stroke himself. He tried so hard not to cum on the spot, seen you watching him stroke himself, got him feeling all kinds of things. "How about you lay on your back girl? I'll take care of you" he said, soothingly. You then laid onto the soft grass on the floor, you watched how Miles got on his knees and crawled towards you, he reached over unclipping your overalls, then pulled down your pants softly, you had to lift yourself off the ground, to allow him to fully pull off your pants. You were now laying on the grass, only in your shirt, and soaking panties, you felt the slight cool air hitting your skin, making you slightly shiver.

"Damn, will you look at that?" he said, referring to the small wet patch on your white cotton panties, hugging your whole ass and crotch area. You felt your face get hot by his comment, it was true, he got you all wet. Just like the other times he has. When my pants were a set on the side, his huge hands reached over, getting a hold of the elastic of your panties, slowly pulling them off. He got a view of your throbbing clit and slick folds. This sight made his cock twitch. "Damn.." he whispered, as he placed your panties with your pants.

You were already breathless on the floor, he had not touched you yet. He caught on. "I know, I know. Just relax, Let me take care of everything. Enjoy yourself." he said in a whisper, he then positioned himself in front of your legs. He grabbed your calves, then spread open your legs, getting a better view of your pretty little pussy to him. He let out a small growl. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this girl" he purred. Then he placed both legs on other side on his waist, he then moved himself on top of you now.

He grabbed his cock, and softly rubbed his tip against your folds. Making you let out a loud gasp. When his mushroom like tip rubbed between your lips, getting coated by your juices. He then got down, helping himself staying up with the help of his forearms and elbows. With his left arm, he brought it down to your wet lips, softly caressing them with both this ring and middle finger, making you soft squeak in surprise. "I got you prepare you first girl" he whispered against your ear. Out of nowhere, you felt him slide his digits in. "Hah!" you moaned loudly, close to his ear.

Hearing you more, made him even more excited. "Fuck, I can already feel you" he purred against your ear, giving it a small kiss. He began to move his fingers in and out of your squishy walls. All that could be heard was your small mewling and the sounds of your squishy wetness. It's been a while since you had been intimate with anyone, it felt like the first time. Except it was with the man from a different species. It felt amazing, you loved the way you were getting stretched out by his huge fingers. Miles then stopped, he feeling how your walls were tightening around his fingers, before pulling them away. His fingers were coated with your wetness, he gave them long lick, tasting your sweet nectar against his tongue.

"Good girl" he purred. He plopped himself back on his elbows and forearms. As you recovered from your small high, he leaned down, giving you a kiss on your sweaty forehead. He did not mind at all. He then thrusted inside your tight walls. You both let out a moan, yours was much louder than his. "Fuck! Your so tight!" he commented, he didn't move just yet. He wanted to feel your squishiness around his cock. God, he felt as if he was in heaven. You were trying to catch your breath, you were practically gripping him tightly, feeling his shaft inside you.

Normally Miles wouldn't kiss, but this time, he did. He grabbed the back of your head, with his hand. Bring in up a bit, kissing your lips softly. You tried to kiss back, but this was a bit too much. "Shh, it's okay. Relax girl" he said, softly against your lips. Slowly and gently, he began to move after a bit. You let out whine, feeling him slowly moving inside. You wrapped your arms around his torso, gripping onto his grin tank top. You held onto the cotton shirt as hard as you could, your nails soft scratched on the fabric.

Miles growled as he thrusted into your puffy pussy. "Fuck!" he moaned, cupping your little head with his huge hands, as a kind of grip, but a soft one. The slow and gentle thrusts, began to become a bit more rougher and deeper, he wanted to feel you as much as he could reach. When his movements began to increase, the grip in his shirt tighten. "OH!" you let out small cry, your legs were beginning to shake, your toes curled inside of your work boots. Your walls gripped tightly onto Miles shaft and he felt it.

Every time he feels your squishy walls tighten around him, his thrusts got faster and harder. "Good girl!" he praised against your ear. He began to pound into your tight. You couldn't help but moan as loud as possible, it could almost echoed in the air. You could almost feel your nails tearing into his shirt. "God!" you whined, feeling his tip hammering right into your sweet spot. It made your body jolt every time he'd slam into your spot. Your legs began to shiver even more, goosebumps ran across your body. Seen your distorted face of pleasure, he reached down to past your stomach, softly massaging your puffy clit. Making you cry out loudly.

All that could be heard in the woods was of skin slapping and heavy breathing, followed by moans. They got louder by the minute. You felt tears welling up in your eyes. The pleasure was getting heavier, and too much. "M-Miles!" you whined, he was thrusting at an immense and animalistic pace, not only that, but he was also rubbing your clit at a speed. "You're such a good girl you know that!" he praised, as he continued to hard thrusts. "Good girl get rewarded!" he finally said. You couldn't help but arch your back, you felt yourself getting much closer to your release, you were very close to exploding. Your lips were wide open, in a shape of an oval. It felt so good! He was stretching you beyond belief, you could see and feel the bulge in your stomach.

"Cum! Be a good girl and cum!" he ordered in a growl. Then you felt your orgasm, ripping through your body. You began to squirt all over yourself and onto Miles shirt, as soon as you did. So did he. He came deep inside your tight clenching walls. "Fuck!" he growled loudly like an animal. Unloading his semen inside you. It was a huge amount, you felt it leaking out of your abused hole. "Mmm.." you hummed, feeling him pumping his load into you.

You were both trying to catch your breath, Miles was still on top of you, with his cock also still inside, making sure that his cum doesn't leak out any more. He leaned up, looking down at you. Seen your eyes half lidded, and sweat coating your neck and forehead, little droplets were rolling down your cheeks and well as your tears. He also noticed how your shirt was also wet, due to your orgasm. "Did you like your reward girl?" he asked, with a evil little grin, wiping his own sweat off his eyebrows. You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "Yes... s-sir.." you stuttered.

Miles chuckled softly, leaning down and giving you a small kiss on the forehead. Affectionately. "As much as I want to make you scream again, we best get back to work" he commented, he slowly pulled out of you, making you sigh and almost whine by the lack of his cock inside you. He then got up properly, tucking himself back in and buckling his belt back on. Before you could reach your pants, you were stopped by him. "Allow me" he said with a small smirk. He reached over, grabbing your panties and sliding them back down, putting them on properly. He gave your calf a small kiss, making you blush a bit. Then came your overalls. He slipped them back onto your legs and clipped the straps on tightly.

You were then helped up, you almost fell over. Your legs were a bit wobbly and weak, your back was also a bit sore from laying on the ground and from work from earlier. "Don't worry hon, next time we'll be somewhere more comfortable." He teased at you, making you blush more then you already were. You both headed back to the base. You then parted ways, not before he sent you a wink and left off to do his own work. You were met with your group mates, they had got worried about you since you weren't finished, you explained that you had been asked to dig another one and it took long because it was in another location. They also noticed how you were also in a bit of pain and sore from your back to legs, they believed it was because of the digging, having to bend down for a long time and how you had to slightly get down on your knees. You decided to go by that story instead. It would be best to keep your 'reward' to be a secret.

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[makoodles]

ミdaddy issues

part one | part two

🍓pairing: recom!miles quaritch x human fem reader

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

masterlist

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

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

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

Things are good. At least, mostly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That makes you pause, and you squint at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How accurate was the dildo?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you do?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Right!” You say, smiling. “Sure.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah? Nice job, princess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” You say, surprised. “Hey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Miles!” You hiss, mortified.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another pause, this one longer than the last. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It takes a moment for you to answer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A drink?” You ask cautiously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Geiszler just keeps ploughing ahead.

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

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

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

“Jesus,” You blurt, rearing back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s not!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ah. So he had noticed your absence. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You left?” You repeat, frowning.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’re you going?”

“I need to put this in the fridge-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” You ask, starting to grin.

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

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

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

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

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

But to your surprise, he pushes your hand away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sit on my face, honey. Come on.”

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

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

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

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

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

That makes him laugh, teeth flashing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You squint up at him. “With you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#miles quaritch #quaritch x reader #recom quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #na'vi x reader #na'vi x human #terato #avatar way of water #avatar 2 #avatar 2009 #fics #recom quaritch x reader #awow

[cuethediscoandthedrinks]

Okay but knotting though (yes, I’m making shit up atp, somebody try and stop me!🤷🏻‍♀️)

Your scent driving him insane <3 <3 <3

He’s just babbling on about how he’s going to fill your tight cunt with his seed

Pushing your knees against your chest and entering your wet cunt, each thrust deep and hard

his cock slowly swells up and coats your insides with thick ropes of creamy cum😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫‼️

omg sis i--

i like to imagine this as being right after he's been chasing you. likely during mating season there's little to do for the na'vi but hunt their mates down, breed them full, and then do the same again and again, and again

after he's pursued and caught you, pumped his engorged length up into your swollen, arousal-slicked pussy, he's def making sure none of his precious seed gets wasted

your knees against your chest is a good one, but i think he'd be especially partial to lying you down on your back, lifting up your hips off the ground, and gently cupping your open pussy with his palm

or maybe sitting you on his lap and continuing his open-mouthed makeouts, all the while he's softly patting and spanking your throbbing pussy, scooping up any extra cum that's dribbled out;

either pushing it back inside you, or bringing it to his lips and smearing it all over him - his mouth, cheeks, chin, nose. if he gets extra frenzied, he might ask you to lick it off of his face or nuzzle and rub yourself against him (or vice versa)

the scent drives him wild, and the idea that he's coated in it, it only further stirs his loins

ffffffffffff i wish i could be BRED u don't even know

#reqs open! #someone pls write this in fic form #or headcanon form #discomusings🥂 #cuethediscoandthedrinks #cuethequestions #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully #recom quaritch #na'vi quaritch #avatar recom quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #colonel catboy quaritch #avatar miles quaritch #miles quaritch smut #tonowari smut #tonowari #tsu'tey #na'vi x reader #na'vi smut

[ball0fhoney]

Me when I bond with the tree of souls and accidentally upload the nastiest, juiciest, toe curling, mouth drooling, lip biting, back arching, eye rolling smut fantasy.

#avatar 2 #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #colonel miles quaritch #fanfic #jake sully #recom quaritch #avatar kiri #avatar fic #avatar loak #spider avatar #avatar theory #avatar #avatar the way of water smut #quaritch smut #lyle wainfleet smut #lyle wainfleet #lyle smut #colonel quaritch #quaritch #quaritch fanfic

[whereireid]

quaritch taking care of his bunny on her period, (human reader)? i'm on my period and all i want is for daddy to take care of me and baby me 😔

oh no baby!! im sorry to hear you're on your period !!! i got u!!! here's daddy quartich taking care of his lil bunny; (brief mentions of nsfw but noooo detail)

Quartich's nose crinkles when he watches you almost double over in pain. Despite being curled up in his blankets, with a hot water bottle pressed against your belly, you're still whimpering. He’s not quite sure what’s wrong - recently you’ve been quiet and he found it best to avoid you, but his hair pricks with worry when he hears you sniffling, and he just has to check out what’s wrong.

Grumbling into the pillows about pain, you're too preoccupied with your own issues to worry about what Quaritch is doing - you don't even notice that he's next to you until the bed dips with his weight, and his tail flicks against your skin irritatingly.

"Someone hurt you, bunny?" Quartich asks, his head tilting to the side as he kisses his teeth slightly, yellow eyes blown wide in concern. "You've been cryin' and wincin' all day like a goddamn injured calf."

"Nobody's hurt me, daddy." you whine, trying to ignore the fluttering of your heart when Quaritch's large palm comes down to rub soothing circles on your back, his lips curled into a frown. "Except from you.”

Quaritch's ears flitter in confusion, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish until he finally splutters out, "Me? I haven't done nothin' to hurt you, bunny, 'cept for maybe those spankings the other day. But they were well deserved.”

You huff quietly as Quaritch’s tail wraps taps against the mattress softly. “Daddy, why don’t you want babies with me?” You ask hesitantly, so incredibly quiet he can barely hear. “I haven’t got a baby and now I’m suffering because of it.”

Recognition washes over his face, and Quartich shakes his head softly, nuzzling his warm body closer to yours. “You never mentioned it, bunny,” he hums, his hands trailing lewdly up your shoulder, snapping your bra strap with a grin. “But if you want my babies, I can always try fuckin’ em into you now.”

“No use now. Won’t work.” You huff and puff and cross your arms, your body feeling like jelly when Quaritch’s lips softly begin to press against your neck.

“Oh no, bunny, it won’t work now, but it will sure help to ease the pain.” He grins at you wickedly, and your heart flutters in your chest.

The hot water bottle suddenly doesn’t feel so hot anymore: not now warmth has flushed through you because of the eagerness from Quaritch to gain his red wings.

.

#🐰💕—bunny fics #🐰 — asks💕 #miles quaritch x you #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch imagine #miles quaritch smut #avatar #avatar smut #atwow #avatar 2009 #avatar 2 #recom miles quaritch

[fanfiction-blep]

CAN I REQ FOR BRAT TAMING QUARITCH bc im OBSESSED with the idea of him saying "whats wrong, didnt you ask for this sweetheart" while brat taming u, oh yes navi!quaritch x navi or human reader (up to you) also maybe quaritch with a spanking and belly bulge kink too 🤭

PLS DOO!! tyyty

PLEASE This man is 1000% a brat tamer. This was so much fun... I hope you enjoy ;)

Brat Tamer Miles Quaritch

Warnings: Dom Miles Quaritch/Brat tamer. Smut, Mentions of fingering, Restraints. Dirty talk. Degradation only if you squint tbh. Fluffy care giver if you squint. Daddy kink.

"OKAY! So hear me out. This man is 10000% a brat tamer wanna know how I know? A brat can see a tamer from a mile away.

look at him, he wants submission from everyone but he takes joy in forcing someone to submit. He takes pleasure in knowing he has the power to push you into submission.

Also as every Dom should he acknowledges your submission as a privilege he realises that it proves how much you trust him. You know how deep his degradation and punishments can go, so when you tease him understanding all to well exactly what is in store for you. He knows you understand the risks. (As you have vocalised this many times to each other.) In this sense his brat tamer tendencies aren't exclusive to the bedroom. He knows he has to take a more care taking role at times.

"Drink you're water princess" "Don't fucking pout at me, drink ya water. Or you want something else in ya mouth?" "Yes Daddy" "Good girl"

He will be so caring outside the bedroom, out side the wondering eyes of others. He is a very private man, he doesn't want everyone knowing his business as long as people know that you are his than that is all that matters.

He will mark you up real good to let the others know too, he'll take pride in you marking him. The first time you bit into his neck and left marks Lyle couldn't help himself. "Have a good time last night Colonel" sniggering while you blush hard, he would place his hand over your lower back in support. "Mind ya business Lyle." secretly he loves the attention, he doesn't want to get into details or have everyone be clued in on you're relationship. As long as people know he owns you, that's all he needs.

NOW inside the bedroom.

You will tease him, for days sometimes. Whether its lingering touches or pressing you body against his. If you haven't been able to be alone for a hot minuet than you'll push it further by wearing a low cut tank, showing a little more cleavage than you normally would. That would push him over the edge, there really isn't much need for skirts on Pandora. However if you retire first to your shared bedroom and he walks in on you undressing/in your underwear... Girl i feel sorry for you.

He'll close the door real slow, do the eyebrow raise thing and lock the door.

there is a cabinet next to the door, at the end of your shared bed. This is where he keeps all the kinky stuff. So if he walks in on you barley clothed or even after a day of teasing he will pull out a pair of cuffs and stalk over to you.

"Strip" Yes sir "On the bed" Anything you say daddy.

Whether you are human or Na'vi man is HUNG so you need a lot of foreplay before anything can actually happen and in moments where you have teased him. He will use foreplay as a part of the punishment. He wont give oral as foreplay as it wouldn't be a punishment.

King of edging!! He will finger you, play with you're clit and keep going until you are a mess. Unable to do anything other than writhe underneath him due to the restraints.

WILL MAKE YOU BEG FOR HIS COCK. omg could you imagine him just tilting his head pushing a lip out and looking down at you. "Ya gotta ask real nice, only good girls get rewards." "Since you want to act like a fuckin' brat i gotta fuck some manners into you"

When he finally pushes himself inside you, your wound up so tight from all the edging its too much.

"Please, daddy. It's too much" At your whimpers he would start snapping his hips into yours holding you're hips down ensuring he can continue his harsh rhythm. "What's wrong sweetheart" He'd mutter between thrusts "Didn't you ask for this? acting like fuckin' brat all day. isn't this what you wanted? To be full of my cock?" You're head would turn to the side his words sending electricity straight to you're core.

His hand would cup your chin forcing you to look at him. "You look away I stop. Understood?" You would nod into his palm, desperate for him to make you cum. "Good girl, now tell me. Didn't you want this? for me to stuff you with my cock, claim you?" A whine left you're lips struggling to form a sentence, his pace slowed down his eyes warning you to speak. "YeS! Please, that's all i wanted you to fuck me" "Fuck" He would growl thumbs beginning to bruise you're hip bones as he slammed into you, bringing you to the edge of your orgasm.

The cocky bastard would lean back on the balls of his feet and start thrusting into you at a new angle. "I don't know if you deserve to cum" He would mutter pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. Pulling you're hips slowly down on his cock. "Please" The beg that left your mouth was desperate, your eyes pleading with him. "Please I'll be good, I need it. Need to cum on you're cock daddy"

"Hmm" He would hum nodding and then he would start thrusting into you pulling yours hips to meet his own, his pace brutal and the sounds leaving his mouth fucking primal. he was a beast and he fucked you into at least two orgasms.

"Ya wanna cum again for me?" His head was thrown back, mouth agape. "Too much" You'd shake your head whimpering and whining beneath him. "thought ya were gonna be a good girl for me" You whined in defeat, almost closing you're eyes due to the pleasure. You're eyes would meet his and he would smirk at you, snapping his hips harder. "You wanna cum with daddy?" You would nod your wrists biting into the restraints. within moments he had you both cumming.

this man!! Please!!!

Brat tamer Quaritch should never be tempted unless you are mentally physically and spiritually prepared to have you're pussy wrecked.

#avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar #miles quaritch smut #colonel quaritch #na’vi quaritch #miles quaritch #recom quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #smut #smut fic

[darksxder]

the good plant pollen

pairing: fem! recom reader x na’vi miles quaritch

summary: getting hit by a sex pollen on your first mission as a recom was not exactly ideal, but thankfully your colonel helps you out

warnings: dubious consent (due to sex pollen), pwp, masturbation, sexual tension, p in v sex, public sex, voyeurism, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk, na’vi heat cycle/sex pollen, power dynamics for sure (you’re his subordinate)

word count: 12.5k (HELLO???) not even sorry, my hands ache tho (from typing, not anything weird)

a.n: i requested something similar from @shadowshart but realized I wanted to play with this idea myself also lmao (read their story it slaps!)

GOT CARRIED AWAY WITH BACKSTORY I'M SORRY OKAY.

also thank u to my roomie for helping me with ideas, love u s.

dts: to the lovely @shadowshart herself (im ur biggest fan fr, sorry i flood your inbox) & @tarrynightss for beta reading, love you bae <3, @spiderlover03 for wanting this fic so bad and always, @belle82devart​     

*******

You wouldn't be in this situation if you paid attention.

You swear it.

You knew you should have been paying attention to Darcy as she pointed out things from the slideshow of venomous and otherwise deadly plants and wildlife on Pandora to avidly avoid, but you swore you knew it all already. Or at least you think you did from your other life.  

You remember certain blurry flashes of colours and ramblings of a safety meeting, the dim room packed with row after row of benches full of whispers and muddled mumbles of ‘dangerous’, ‘claws’ ‘toxins’ ‘ leaching from skin’. Just a monotonous repeat of: ‘deadly’, ‘deadly’, ‘deadly.

All you could truly remember was watching Quaritch’s arms flex as he addressed you all, the way his face tensed as he spoke, just an octave under a yell, always. The strain in his neck. You were in the front row, leaning in, all for the guise of catching every word he spoke and you had at the time, but still, he was the major thing on your mind even then.

And now he was still a distraction, with his thick thigh pressed against yours, his heat leeching off of him and gripping at you, travelling up your side, up your neck, tingles spreading through your extremities. If you moved away an inch you would be on Lyle’s lap. That was not an option despite the constant light flirtatious jokes shared between you.

And no matter how sick it was, you enjoyed this stolen touch. It still felt forbidden. Probably because it still was.

He was still your colonel, you were still his subordinate.

How unlucky to be given the chance to live two separate lives where you were infatuated with him, and in both, you could not have him.

He didn't seem to mind this touch now so why would you? Honestly due to this you truly had no chance of paying attention to this safety presentation before the mission. It would have usually had your rapt attention, but something about this morning had you anxious and the touch of Quaritch had your stomach all fluttery and your mind wandering as the scientist spoke.

She was a mean woman, about your age, or at least the age you were as a human, your na’vi body was only 20. She had fierce red-brown hair that hung in long, frizzy waves. A headband pushed the bangs back from her face harshly as she rolled up her sleeves and continued talking. On her pale face, she wore teal eyeliner, and you suspected it was a strange way to place herself firmly in the recom team spirit, but what got you was her personality. She was fiery, she bit back at everyone, insults that went a toe too far, were her supposed comfort, terrorizing her fellow scientists through nitpicks and badgering in sickly sweet mocking tones in the morning and dragging them to the lab past reasonable hours.

Overall just metaphorically making them bend to kiss her feet.

Quaritch liked her. Not enough to like her as a person, but enough to appreciate the snark, the tone. Enough to ask general Admore to put her on their team for good the first week when she yelled at one of her many scientist underlings who got in Quaritch’s pathway.

Sometimes you wondered if he fucked her.

But when you did, you got sick at the thought and quickly extinguished it.

You focus back, feel the rumbling of the bench underneath you. Lyle was laughing beside you so loud it reverberated through the metal. Your eyes snapped up to see a deep red, long-leaved plant displayed on the screen and all of the recoms laughing. Darcy looked a bit too pleased with her ability to make Lyle wheeze.

“Overall it's not exactly supplying the good type of plant pollen if you know what I mean.” A wink. You did not indeed know what she meant and you heard Quaritch huff a laugh behind you.

“ Unless you like being on a rock for hours, I guess. There is a reason the na’vi call it the tsewtx toruk ”

Mansk spoke behind you. “The fuck does that mean?”

You laughed, which made Darcy glare at you. “It means dirty dragon. Its namesake is for its potency, strength and umm… tenacity or stamina it gives the user. As well as the physical symptoms of intense fever and hot flashes. But again like everything else, it is deadly. You would fuck till you drop essentially. Stay away.” A click and she was onto something new and you tuned her out again. Willing yourself to soon be able to make it out of the room, to be without her nasally voice if even for only an hour’s reprieve.

You were still focused on other things, panic flaring as you remembered you got up late this morning. Now mentally calculating how fast you would have to be after the meeting to make it back to your bunk and clean up your station before bed check later when you got back. But you focused pivoted again.

Not very far, just to your right.

Your colonel was so very close to your side. You were trying not to stare, truly, but you knew you weren't doing a good job. Your side eyes were never particularly subtle, Mansk and Lyle told you this for years and yet you continued. You couldn't control it. And it didn't help that you were much more noticeable in your na’vi body.

******

You were used to being firmly human and tiny for your age.

You were a stealth operative under Miles Quaritch for the RDA at twenty years old nearly 14 years ago. A lifetime ago. Able to even sneak past every na’vi and even Eywa herself they swore, but you never thought that was quite true. They nicknamed you Ghost anyways.

You pretended to hate it.

But when you had snuck into their village one day when they were gone to the river for a ceremony, taking pictures of the internal structures undetected, the team had celebrated you. Seriously celebrated, and even made a makeshift cupcake to commemorate the breakthrough. But it was not something done lightly and the cupcake was neither edible nor good, but you had eaten it. Had smiled, and allowed yourself to be jostled by firm slaps and pats on the back of Wainfleet and the rest as the guilt gnawed at you slowly.

But Quaritch noticed, he always did.

He found you out on the bridge that night, leaning against the rail as you gazed at the depths of emerald tones that made up the forest.

“You did well today. I know it’s difficult, soldier, but you did well.”

You looked up, startled to see him at your side. So much taller than you, even as a human. White hair cropped short and clothes pressed even at the late hour. Not a single wrinkle.

The deep scars on the side of his head caught in the blue-white light of Hell’s Gate’s fluorescents as he talked. They almost shined as if they were a platinum badge. His blue eyes lit up an icy hue. You felt your palms sweat as you readjusted your grip, feeling yourself shake just slightly. The once-chilled air of the brig was warm as you felt him step beside you.

Always on your right side, after having noticed you tense the first day, when he saddled up to your left. You had bad hearing on the left side and hated the anxiety of someone being on that side. He switched wordlessly when he saw you tense. His jaw set, eyes facing forward. He did it wordlessly and never left that right side view since then, even when agitated at you.

Especially then.

If he didn't like you, which you were sure he didn't, he at least respected you.

That was rare for him and it was enough.

It was enough.

But now as you try to shove images of burning forests and screaming na’vi from your mind you could barely see him. You were so tangled, knotted and sick at the way you would be and always were in a way a part of it. All of the atrocities, the death. Once you had been passive but now you had chosen to be firmly active.

He followed your gaze to your hands, you could feel it before you matched his stare to your white knuckle grip on the metal rail. You unclenched, shaking out your burning hands. A deep sigh rumbled from his chest, the sound seemingly following the curve of your spine as he leaned back. Dog tags clinked as he leaned farther forward over the rail to properly see you, to meet your eye. You indulged him only just to see his gaze be soft if only for a fleeting second as you gave in. You were always nervous about its absence, but it was always there. For you, at least.

You tried to smile, but it was barely a twitch of your lips, your knees aching as you tensed next to him. You had been standing here for hours after the so-called ‘party’ had died down.

Music booming in your ears, rattling your hunched frame in the corner as a small smile twitched at your lips to assuage that you were okay as the world fell apart around you. Breathing in the stale air of the gym in the brig, smelling dust, metal and sweat and of course the sweet vodka peach drink Zdinarsk spilled on your elbow as you moved past her. You took in everything as you sunk into the concrete behind you, revelling in the cold bite of the chilled material. Just watched as Zdog and Prager shouted lyrics to a Jay Z song, fingers pointing up to god knows what, rotating between gesturing the song out and rounding Lyle and Mank's shoulders as they laughed, half belligerent, drinks sloshing onto the concrete ground from battered red plastic cups. Since slipping out the back and avoiding the colonel's eyes hours later, you were just here.

Unmoving as the base winded down further and people prattled around its large expanse. All flitting about with briefcases and files as they rushed past you to their makeshift homes. Tired eyes focusing on the idea of their beds as the day was wasted and the next promised to start just as early. They filled the once cold lifeless gray space with life for a time until the night truly dwindled. The eclipse lit everything a bright purple. Awash in colours of magenta, and violet you just breathed, hands shaking as you inhaled. Your gaze never leaves the wonders beyond the glass surrounding you.

Now you were here and he had finally found you.

“You know why you're so good at your job, Ghost?”

A sigh slipped past your lips. Your shoulders caved in as your eyes slid shut once more at his deep raspy voice. At the use of your moniker, a remembrance of reality. He was your colonel. You were but a soldier. You were no hero, certainly not now.

No woman he had met by chance. Not a friend of his, of anyone, no longer a sister, no longer even your first name.

Just Ghost.

“No. Why, Colonel?”

And he hated how weak your voice was as he brushed calloused fingertips against your hands. So slight you were sure it was an accident. Your gaze shot to his, heart jumping painfully, back straightening as you stiffened. His eyes kept yours as he pried your hands from the rail none so gently, turning the right palm up and sliding something small and cool into your hand before closing your fingers around it, softer than the initial yank from the rail. But only by a fraction. All he could afford you.

Shivers raced up your spine, your chest aching at the touch, lurching with it.

“Wh-”

“It’s because you care. The animals out there don't notice you because they know you care. Like they know you wouldn't hurt them, even when vulnerable and squattin’ in the mud. You just have to remember to care for your kind more, alright?”

Your lip wobbled, voice much too weak to speak as you merely nodded, gaze trailing down again. Heart racing and fear clawing at you as you just stood there, weak and mortified, scared that he knew it all. Had the power to have you called a potential traitor for your empathy.

You wondered if when he said animals he meant the na’vi or the wildlife. You swallowed hard, eyes burning, squeezing shut as if you could wring the horrible thought from your mind, keep your heart from sinking to the depths alongside your stomach. You did not want to ask, for you knew already.

Your eyes tracked your beaten-up converse on your aching feet as you shuffled from your left to right leg, ignoring the prickles that raced up your shins. Caught on the only remnant of your sister left. She died in failed cryo on the way here. The heart drawn in sharpie on your left toe from your last day together. After, you both collapsed in exhaustion from packing your small joint carry-on bag the night before shipping off. It was glaringly bright in the white-tinted light illuminating the large hall now.

Still muted, smudged, and fading, but it made you smile anyways.

They were the first thing you put on each time you got back to base. The first step after a shower.

All of this, you realized you did for her. All of those like her, those left on earth. Trapped there, on a dying planet with no solution, no real plan or power to change it.

You finally braved a look at your palm, seeing a carved metal charm sitting there amongst callouses. It was crudely carved from the material but still startlingly smooth. It was a small ghost resting in your palm. No longer than your finger pad. A small hole was punched near the head with a link there to attach to your dog tags.

You let out a laugh at the sight and Quaritch was sure he had never heard anything so sweet, so close to shattering.

Your hand, gentle but rough like his, brushed against his knuckles. But this was no accident. It could never be construed as such and that was the true danger. You focused on feeling the strength there in those three seconds before your hand fell back against the now icy rail, missing the fleeting warmth he always seemed to radiate.

You just have to remember to love your kind more, alright?

“I do.”

A nod followed your soft words and he saw then just how young you were. With your two braids falling over your shoulders as you rocked back on your heels, forearms poised on the rail as you held the charm gently, close to your hoodie-clad chest, like it might break, like someone might take it from you. He focused on the light highlighting your features, and he felt his breath still for a mere moment. All at that moment it clicked in his head as if it was invisible until now, at this moment.

You were barely past being a teen, having signed on for a suicide mission with a sister who was long dead now, with few other choices six years ago. You were an excellent sniper and a keen strategist. A good follower, who took great orders. Loyal as shit. Throwing yourself in front of many projectiles from day one for strangers, colleagues and your team alike. Hell, you were probably a better soldier than all of them combined.

But you were too young. Painfully young.

Much too sweet to have calluses so deep and eyes so pained and a voice so hollow. Too young to have lost so much.

His gaze fell to your shoes, then back up as you looked back out to the horizon. He just wished you didn't wither away, yet. You were all so close to an answer. He knew it. A solution. Pandora was it. He knew you just needed a reminder and he would give you one, just this once.

You were just a kid.

Yelling never worked with you and he could never bring himself to do it anyways. You were a motivator for everyone, always picking them up with words or hands if they fell, but you were also easily motivated yourself. Easily swayed by a belief that what you were doing was good, or right. So he would give that to you. Because he needed you, he needed this whole team.

And that's all he thought when he had found that metal shard in the yard a month ago, in the vast grasses that tickled his hands as it sat in the very middle of it all. The whole operation and base. And he took it back to his room to carve. Immediately seeing the small timid ghost in the shape. It was barely the size of the pad of his thumb when he was done, whittling it to near nothing, slivers embedded in his palm, his skin. It only took him a night. He worked in between sets of weights and paperwork he barely dared to usually do, fingers always itching to pick up the tools again. Its creation in itself was motivating.

He tried not to think of why he was doing it. Pondered why he couldn't put it down when he started.

Why did he wait so long to give it to you? Why did he dread how you would react? Why was he so sure of how you would?

Just as you were now.

Soft, kind and something else he wished he didn't see. He refused to see as he too looked at the expanse of stars above your eyes, past your stare. He wished he saw what you did there, what you talked of seeing, of feeling. You talked of a vast expanse, a deeply instilled hope, a timid purpose, a reminder that although time was not infinite, life beyond them was, the cycle of everything and anything was so endless and it didn't scare you. It brought you peace as you gazed at the bright twinkling gems cast in the inky dark.

But instead of an expanse, he saw a dome. A prison. And that charm you cradled is just the same. It was just manipulation, a trap to get you to stay.

That’s all it was.

That is all it ever could be.

******

Now you sat there trying desperately to ignore the near euphoric scent of him beside you, and how your ears were twitching towards him whenever he made a slight noise, even if it was just a deeper breath than those previous. You noted all of them and swore you could feel them in your veins.

He smelled like a bonfire, a forest after a harsh rain, coffee, something like his old cologne with tangy twists to it along with gunpowder,  metal. It was perhaps what his soul could be summed up as if he had one. But you were very much sure that he didn't.

But you still managed to focus upfront once more, on Darcy’s grand hand gestures with the clink of her bangles at her thin wrists as she pointed to the moving 3D images of frightening pandora fauna. Her green eyes were bright even in the dimmed light of the command room. The hologram was now focused on a palulukan.

A leathery wolf-like thing that caught your eye. Its teeth were so large and it was around ten feet long in size, taking up the whole room. You felt your tail thwap hard against the ground, curling around your left leg as you jiggled it harshly. Lip caught in between your teeth as you tensed, but no one paid you any mind. All you felt was your heart racing so fast you swore it might break your chest open, might splat on the ground still beating its erratic rhythm. Your fingers tighten on your empty holster as if to reach for a gun to protect yourself against the hologram threat.

“Y’know, they’re not all bad up close.” Quaritch laughed beside you, a low mocking thing that did horrible things to you.

That had your head snapping to his. Jesus, he was beautiful, that's all you could think, the anger giving way to awe as you watched his nose twitch, a look of confusion on his face, but it was gone as soon as you noticed. Like it was never there.

The stripes on his face matched his nature, sharp and melted into his bone structure. Highlighting the high cheekbones and strong jaw. His recom tags twinkled as they dangled with his strong lean forward, forearms resting on his knees. It gave you a horrible sense of deja vu you couldn't quite place. You always shoved memories of your past life away and you knew why you shoved that one out quickly. The tiny ghost charm still around your recovered dog tags felt like a collar then, even if it was tucked into your shirt, away from his view. You swore he knew. Knew he owned you.

“I’m not sure I believe you. I mean this is coming from the man who was once permanently scarred by one.” You said.

A huff.

“Plus I’m not concerned. Nothing on Pandora scares me like that.” You paused, frowning. “Not anymore.”

Not since dying. He knew what you meant.

His face was stern, but playful at the edges. It was evident in his eyes that he didn’t buy it. No muscle shifted in his face or his body, not a single hue of change seen, even of a minuscule sort, and yet you knew he was aware you were full of shit.

His eyes fell to your hands twisting in your t-shirt and you stilled them.

He laughed.

“That’s not what gave you away, Peach.”

And he leaned in, the smell of him was overwhelming, intoxicating, you felt like you were suffocating, fighting the urge to take a deep gasping breath in. He smelled so good, your ears perked up, flattening against your hair, then ruffling up again as his raspy voice whispered in your right ear as it twitched at his warm breath,

“I can hear your heartbeat.”

That only helped to increase its speed, you felt like you would faint, sure you would, but it was the least of your problems as you heard the recoms shuffle and make to move out. The dim lights now burning bright. All grabbing weapons off the table and suiting up. You hop up quickly, eager to get your hands on a gun, to then check and make sure that your bed was expertly made before inspection later, excited to get out and far away from Quaritch, from the itch he left under your skin. But the firm yank to your tank top collar had you gasping and collapsing back into his chest, your nose filled with his rich scent. You could feel his strong arms around you, one at his side, flush with your body, the other at the nape of your neck like you were a rogue kitten. You could feel his breath, your body moving, arching as his chest expanded with his inhales, could feel the cold metal of his belt buckle against your tailbone, digging into the soft skin there deliciously. Heart still racing.

“Where you goin’ Rookie? Chopper’ is that way.” His eyes met yours over his shoulder, your breath stalling as you felt his eyes wander like a physical touch branding you, brushing against the hemline of your top, your heaving chest. He grunted, making an exaggerated gesture to the right side, in the direction of the hangar.

“Right, I- I just forgot something.”

He snorted. “Well tough, we gotta head out. ” And that was that.

You heard Lyle laughing at your expense, pointing at your flicking tail which you grabbed from behind you in fury at the blasted thing. It was giving away way too much to devious people around you.

The Colonel just charged ahead of you all, shoulders squared and ears flicking in irritation. He looked so mad and you had no idea why. Well, hopefully, he’ll let you off easy later at the sight of your messy sheets.

Hopefully, that scary palulukan bastard won't kill you… Hopefully, it will all go fine.  

********

And it was all going fine until you spotted a viper wolf from the corner of your eye. You were a mile into the journey since drop off, muscles tight and burning from hacking at plants and hiding from leering beasts. The animals still attacked people they recognized as na’vi, just not as much as an avatar driver or god forbid, a human would. None of you were as accurately attuned to silent threats as the people of Pandora were. The recom bodies were new and native in theory to this planet, but you did not grow up as they did, hell you all grew up in a tank technically.

It had been stalking you all for a long time you gathered, it had to have been, what with the way it effectively cornered you as you all were nearing a ditch drop-off along with the certain confidence to the wind up of his body. So when it finally dashed with a horrible high-pitched laughing sound everyone turned to it, but it was already in the air.

Your hand grabbed your knife from your sheath with ease, throwing yourself in front of Quaritch and swinging your arm up with a cry. The thing launched itself with so much force that it bent nearly into a c shape as your hand slammed into its abdomen, sickly thin ribs curving over your hand, teeth snapping at your face as you swung it around, twisting the knife deep, teeth gritted in a yell, neck leaned back to avoid its teeth. Blood soaked your hands as jaws snapped at you, continuing their attempt at your face. You didn’t realize you were near the edge until it was too late. A strong kick of hind legs to your ribs shoved you off the grassy hill. Your grip slipped from the knife, and the creature it was buried inside as you went down screaming, tumbling down a rock covered slope. Wind and grass whipped past you, rocks crushing bone as you rolled, limbs flailing as you fell from various heights in between harsh slopes of land. Arms tucked around your head near the end. Muffled gasps and breaths wrenched from your lungs, various hard things crushed in your chest, and mud slid into your eye, leaving you with no sight on your left side, and with no air.

You couldn't breathe. You couldn't see.

All throughout you heard constant shouts of your name, “Ghost!” and whether it was a minute or truly an eon, you finally stopped moving, collapsing on your back, wedged under a sharp rock and something delightfully soft in contrast. Your head pounded like your heart was there.

The world was truly spinning, your stomach turning violently. The taste of metal and grass in your mouth. Splinters of sunlight fractured your vision as you pried your eyes open, looking up the long hill to the sea of blurred faces. With a groan you assessed the damage quickly, and stood shakily, trudging over with only a slight limp to the clearing next to you so they could see you were alright. But with blood running down your forehead, arms swinging around for purchase as your knees buckled, you can imagine it was not exactly affirming.

“I’m okay. Is the thing dead? Are you all alright?” You asked, voice shaky.

The clinks of rocks and mud had your heart jumping as you moved back, falling on your hands and knees, moving backwards like a crab then standing again when sense came back to you.

Someone, no idea who, was making their way down the hill, at the very loud and very kind protest of your teammates.

You found your voice as your head swam with worry, your vision still too blurry to make anyone out. You didn't want them to get hurt. “No, no it's okay. I'll find my way up. Is it dead?” You called, wondering if you had asked that already, but truly unable to remember.

Your head was severely pounding. And perhaps you were fine until a wave of dizziness blacked out your vision, and your legs gave out from underneath you. Pain ripped up your tailbone to every single cell of your spine. You felt like you might throw up as you yelped. But after wincing, and back bowing in, eyes squeezing firmly shut, your gaze met a lovely red flower beside you. With a deep blue and orange center. With oval-like petals the size of your actual face. It was ripped in half savagely and you felt the ground around you in a panic, calloused fingertips meeting soft petals wedged under your ass.

Oh no.  “Shit, I’m sorry.” You whined.

A laugh. You had no idea where it came from. “What is she apologizing to? A plant?” You paid them no mind, tears welling in your eyes at your destruction of the life here. It felt like you were still the same. You huffed, gazing at the horrible tear in its side. It was nearly as tall as your waist and it looked heavy, naturally leaning against a mossy tree. A thick white substance was flowing from the flower's core. It was bleeding.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry.”

Combat training takes place before logic it seemed, as your shaking hands dipped into the flower, pressing against the center as if trying to stave it from bleeding out. But as you did so a burst of yellow dust slammed into your face. You choked, stupidly taking a deep breath in through your nose as you slid your mouth firmly shut, feeling a burn in your lungs, an itch in your nostrils. You sneezed, some of the powder falling out, dusting off of you. The flower’s essence was now burning on your hands and Darcy’s warnings kicked in much too late. You rubbed them against your rough pants, with the feverish feeling sinking in. They were no longer wet like though, almost like you had absorbed the thing.

Tingles raced up your arms as you winced, moving away quickly, truly just staggering around. Wiping your hands on the ground quickly again. But as soon as you stood on your feet your vision cleared, and everything became so much brighter.

Woah.

All of your pains faded away, almost healed. You felt great honestly. Nothing felt tilted or like a scene with a film filter on now. You felt alive, it was the only word for it. And so when Quaricth made it to the bottom finally, an almost scared expression on his face, eyebrows once furrowed in worry, scrunched in confusion. Lending to genuine shock as he watched the gash on your forehead heal itself, sealing with a pink glow, leaving your blue skin perfectly untouched.

His mouth went dry, gaze straying to the plant beside you. It looked quite familiar. Then back.

“You okay, Cupcake?” You throbbed at the nickname, deep in between your thighs, so sharp you almost fully folded over. What was that? You cleared your throat, feeling the tingles from your hands race up your windpipe as if you had just drank something fizzy, coaxing your words to slow, the octave going just slightly deeper. It didn't go away, the feeling flowing up your arms and wrapping around your waist like an embrace. Oh god. “Yeah, Let’s go.” He handed you your knife, neatly cleaned on his shirt and you stashed it back at the garter on your thigh with a wink.

He felt his steps still as you moved around him, grabbing at the rope Mansk threw down as you started to climb. You looked utterly fine, but he knew you weren't. It wasn't because he watched a gash heal itself on your skin, but instead for the fact that you had winked at him. You would never have dared.

His ears twitched, his tail flicking leaves harshly before he reined himself in again, determined to keep a firm eye on you.

*******

You knew something was wrong. Knew as soon as you touched that fucking plant. As soon as your vision cleared you knew what it was, what you had just properly and thoroughly infected yourself with. The so-called “dirty dragon”. You wish you had paid more attention, wished you didn't roll down a hill and hit your head making you delirious. Wished you were not stupid enough to try to save a goddamn plant as Lyle suspected. But here you were.

Maybe there was a cure.

Maybe you could make it back in time before it kicked in. You would never tell Darcy, she wouldn't help you anyway, but the chances of no one else noticing seemed slim. You stayed at the back of the pack, covering their backs as Quaritch led them once again. His search of the forest in front of him interspersed with glances over at you that you never failed to notice.

The recoms were just as distracting, but in an irritating way. You could smell all of them, all of their signature scents like they were pressed against you, nuzzling your face. It made your head hurt. You chose to focus on the best scent, his. It was intermingled with all of the other recoms, but it was the strongest, the best.

Your heart raced as you took deep breaths in, feeling the tingles spread from your lungs to your breasts with the action. Your gun kept slipping from your grip from sweat, it clung to your skin like a film, the relative cool of the morning in Pandora wrenched from you as heat wave after heat wave hit you. Sweat sliding down your forehead and teasing your parted lips. The rub of your thighs together as you moved in a low crouch was so intoxicating. A zing of electricity flowed up your body each time the seam of your camo pants met your center.

You were wet, so wet you could feel it. It felt like a period at first and you had panicked a little before realizing na’vi women did not get those, they reabsorbed the uterine lining as all animals should. It felt almost like a weight in between your thighs, as you noticed your arms shaking beside your head all whilst you kept the gun raised. On guard still even when you felt dizzy and faint. Hot and cold. Core aching desperately.

Quaritch raised a clenched fist and you all paused immediately as if in sync. His glance over a broad, muscled shoulder was quick, “Take the gear up three clicks and wait for Ghost and I there. Make camp.” Your core pulsed at his mere voice, an urge to be closer to him undeniable as you were still at the back of the group. Confusion marring their faces. He had an order against night ops, or at least he had as a human.

“What? Stay the night here? Are you crazy?”

It was Lopez, never shy to disagree with the Colonel's orders. But the look he gave him shut his mouth up real tight, sealing his attitude off.

“Nevermind. Let’s go. Move out.” Lopez grunted, picking up Colonel's dropped pack too before leaving. Struggling with the weight Quaritch didn't even bat an eye at.

Quaritch looked so good, hand loosely poised over his comm collar, the other resting on his cocked hip, braid swinging behind him with the motion. He looked delicious and you ached at the sight of him.

“General Ardmore, we're making camp. We’ll be back at 0600 sharp the next morning.” It was not a negotiation. You would have laughed at his gall, but it was no surprise to you and the snappy talk made you bite your lip, focusing on the deep timbre of his voice, basking in the sound.

You only snapped back to reality when you noticed the silence. Your group now a blurred mess in between faraway leaves, too far away, much farther than you remember them being. The colonel's words came back to you.

Take the gear, wait for me and Ghost there.

Leave us alone basically.

Oh god.

“Looks like you got yourself into some deep shit huh, Cupcake?” You sniffed, wiping at the sweat on your hairline frantically. “I don't know what you mean, sir. What did I do?” You squinted up at him, light spilling through long leaves to illuminate his figure, his eyes burning a bright gold in its rays.

You tasted your sweat as you took deep breaths, fists clenching as you felt your nipples rub against your bra with the move, thighs clenching slightly.

“I can hear your heartbeat, remember?”

Your face blanched, going still, eyes wide as he grabbed the strap of his vest, leaning into a hip, his lowered eyes travelling down your shaking figure.  

“What plant did you fall into exactly?” He asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. He sounded smug. The bastard.

Shaking your head, you moved around him quickly, the movement matched the slight wind, bringing his scent over you in a rush. It was so sudden-so strong and good that you gasped loud and harsh. Your pupils were blown as they stared ahead at the foliage, praying something would come out of it and eat you. End your misery as you feel your cheeks burn. Jaw clenched.

You ignored every tingle and jolt as you trudged on, hearing him fall in step behind you.

“Ghost, just tell me what it is. One of the scientist freaks can help.” You scoffed, turning back sharply, almost colliding with his broad chest, your own heaving, each breath harder to grasp. You hated this, every single part of it. Hating how every part of you wanted to be plastered to him, wanted to feel all of him. How hard you had to fight it.

“No. They couldn’t. They wouldn't.” You cry, gaze, meeting the ground in shame.

“What do you mean? They have cures to nearly every poison on this dam’ planet by now.” He moved forward as he spoke, cautious like you were a wounded animal. You bit hard enough on your bottom lip to split it, tasting metal once again as you smoothed sweaty palms down your thighs, tensing as shivers racked your body with the action. He moved even closer and you backed up five quick steps, they could nearly be counted as hops, your eyes wide with alarm.

He did not understand the danger he was in. How badly you wanted him. What you would do to have him and if he kept trying to come into your space you were not entirely sure he wouldn't find out.

“It's not a poison, Quaritch.”

A breath of silence stretched between you, both of you instead focusing on the chirps and caws of Pandora wildlife around you. And that's when he noticed it. The shaking of your hands, your voice, the blown-out pupils eating away at the gold of your eyes. The sweat. The wink. It’s not poison. What else could it have been? A healing plant was unlikely to cause these side effects. What else did Darcy-

Oh.

Oh.

“Take care of it.”

You scoff, cheeks burning, tail whipping behind you sharply.

“Excuse me?” It was shrill, the embarrassment rationing off your shy side to near nothing.

He gestured to the base of a large and thick tree trunk. Made a show of turning around, arms out wide, walking twenty paces out and stilling, gun at his side. Guarding you. He couldn't be serious. He couldn't. But the thought of actually doing it, sinking into the bark, tearing off your belt and slipping your hands under your pants, feeling along your cunt all whilst he listened, watched out for you? It was insane, and you refused to give in, but despite that thought your body moved for you. Your hands were moving and your knees locking before you fell to the grassy heap at the base of the tree.

******

Quaritch was sure he would pass out any minute now. He was tense, still, waiting, a part of him hoping you’d refuse, another knowing you would not be able to.

He could smell you for miles since the fall and the collision with that damn plant. He had been hard for hours, only taking point so no one else would see it. But you never noticed, you never did.

He wasn’t looking forward to the hell General Ardmore would put him through when he got back, but he knew you would not have made it back in time. He may have been distracted during the safety presentation by your scent, your warmth, and the touch of your soft thigh through his cargo pants but he paid attention, and it paid to do so. So he knew the shit you were in and it was deep. This was meant to be agony. He just knew- His ears swivel at the clink of your belt, followed by a rush of soft breaths.

Rustling has his tail twitching up, flicking side to side, nearly hitting his bent arm on the downswing. But it goes silent again and he can't help it. “You okay, Peach?”

Your moan is loud and he chokes, nearly falling over, fighting the urge to look, already perfectly picturing what he would find. He could hear you. How slick you were, he could smell it, his mouth watering, heat pooling in his stomach, fists clenching.

“God please keep doing that, Quaritch.” You gasped. His dick twitched. He stops, stomach flipping. “Doing what?” He drawled, bringing the last syllable on a walk, loving the squeak you made in its favour. His voice came out deeper, more rasped than he would have liked but he just  swallowed, hard. Fighting to not look over, slightly failing and getting a sliver of blurred blue in his peripheral vision, a glance at scattered clothes nearest to him.

“Talking.”

God. Someone save him.

It was wrong, all so wrong and yet he would do whatever you wished at that moment. He would say anything you wanted.

“What do you want to hear?”

A slick sound and another gasp and he swore he cracked a tooth with how hard he clenched his jaw. “Anything. Just need your voice. I love your voice. Fuck!” And he groaned, ears twitching against his head, eyes squeezed shut as he fought the urge.

He wouldn't do this, he wouldn't. It wasn't right, but still, he talked.

“I can smell your cunt.”

A moan.

“I could smell it for fucking miles ever since you ran into that fuckin’ plant. Could smell you. Could hear your heartbeat…both of them.”

He couldn't breathe because every time he did, he smelt you, he breathed you in and he was one step closer to losing it. To breaking.

“Never wanted to fuck something so bad in my life. Wanted to pin you up against a tree, rip all the damn' clothes off of ya’ until you admitted what you need.” He could hear your heightened breaths. “Please, I'm so close.” But he stopped, shaking his head.

“What-why?” you called, voice vulnerable. It was a whine and he was delighted. This was power and he knew how to wield it. You always wasted yours.

You could have had him back there at the bottom of the hill if you asked, in front of his whole damn team if you wished. Hell if you jumped him he would have gone for it, no questions asked. You could have had him at fifty one when you wanted him. He would’ve fucking taken you. It would have been wrong, but he would not have cared. But you never did try, never even got close when you could have. You never did the wrong thing, the thing you wanted. Needed.

But he was not you.

“I'll keep talkin’ till you cum all over those pretty fingers enough to be cured Cupcake, even if it takes till fuckin’ sunrise. But only if you let me watch.” His voice came out as a drawl, southern accent sticking to every syllable. His ears twitch to better hear you reply. It was immediate.

“Turn around.”

And he does, slow and sure like.  It takes everything in him to do it that way. To not seem too eager, like he hadn't been thirsting for your pussy since you were first placed on his team, when you were barely more than a teen. You were barely twenty and he was starting fifty, and yet he had wanted you. Human or not, Miles Quaritch wanted to fuck you and he was convinced that would never go away. You were not simply something he could get out of his system, but he would try.

Good God.

His heart stopped as his gaze met yours. Your eyes half-lidded, wobbly knees pulled apart, showcasing your drenched fucking cunt. You were wearing nothing but your dog tags. He found himself walking towards you, focused on the many strands of hair that fell from your braid, plastering themselves to your body, your neck, and your arms. Your face lovely and flushed, lips parted and swollen, but not as much as they ought to be. He drops to his knees in front of you, uncaring for the gun he throws in the grass somewhere around behind him, gaze never leaving you. Your heaving chest, your heavy breasts, your full blue curves in the sunlight.

“Talk.”

It was a demand and he could meet it.

“Yeah, whatever you want, baby. I’ll do anything you want.” He was stomach to the ground, palms gripping at the earth beside him as if for solace as he took a deep breath in and held it. His eyes flashed open as he watched your small lean fingers messily draw circles on your clit, hips jerking up, chest heaving. It wasn’t enough and the scrunch between your brows was from pain, not pleasure. He was breaking as your eyes met his. It was not the first time you looked at him like that, with enough lust to make his stomach flip, but it was certainly the first time he had ever been able to do something about it.

Jesus, he needed you.

“Use me, baby, please. I can give you what you need, y’know I can. I’ll fill you up, fuck that pollen right out of you if you want me.” A shocked sound came from you as if personally offended, hands falling off your body. You stood on wobbly knees and he joined you, cock aching as he stared down at your small flushed frame. You were beautiful like this. Perfect.

He was giving the power to you. Addressing the imbalance. You could refuse him, you could shove him away and he would willingly go, but he knew you wouldn't.

“ I want you. I a- I want you. Please.” It was a rasp, your voice near gone, throat parched. And your hands, hot as the sun gripped his tank top in fistfuls under his vest. He could feel your touch even above the cloth. At first he thought you were pulling him in until you whined when he tried to close the space. Hand smoothing up his shoulders. “Want this off?” He asked, hands on his vest. You only nodded and he unclipped it, not needing to be told twice, dropping it slowly to the tree beside him, your hand now laid on his bare shoulder.

“More.” Another demand.

He barely refrained from ripping the thing off. Settling for grabbing fistfuls on the back of his shoulders and pulling it up and over his head. Before he even tossed the shirt to the ground you were kneeling, thumbs dipping to rest on his hip bones. Your nose sliding up the line of his abs, inhaling deeply. He gasped, hand finding your hair, feeling the sweat there as you licked and kissed up his stomach.

One of his hands falling to the tree to keep his knees from fuckin’ giving out. You devour every inch of skin he showed. It was perhaps the first time he ever felt worshipped, with hands the heat of the sun gripping at his lithe waist, pulling and tugging him how you wanted, as you kissed, licked and bit at him, taking your pleasure with his. Your face rubbed along his hard-on through his pants nearly every third time you kissed his abdomen or sucked on a spot of his waist.

Butterflies. He got fucking butterflies like a teenage girl when you met his eyes, smiling before pressing the softest touch he had ever experienced in both lives, above his belly button.

That was it. “Oh, fuck it.” He rasped, pulling you up by the hands still on his waist, smoothing them up to rest around his neck, soothing your confusion with shushes as his hands tucked under your thighs, yanking you up as you yelped, a giggle falling from your lips. But you were not deterred, lips attacking his neck on the left side, under his jaw right by his chin and ear, and he nearly collapsed at the feeling, the pleasure that shot deep through his veins. With a deep breath his forehead met the tree. Fucking damn it, you would be the death of him. He overestimated how much strength he needed to carry you, to fuck you standing and you landed on his big blue chest, center landing on his sternum as gravity slowly pulled you down, the ridges of his abs rubbing into your puffy clit.

*******

You threw your head back at the feeling. Your thighs squeezed his sides as you slid down to rest on his hips. His head tilted back too then, a small huff leaving his nose as he went to gaze at the sky, as if to ask for mercy. You licked a hot line up his throat, sucking hard and he moaned, vision breaking to land back on you. Furious, he looked furious and it made another honest to god giggle leave your lips. The sound made your stomach flip, your core aching as you ground your hips into him hard. But with your look at the blue sky next when he dove to kiss your neck, reality cut through the pollen-induced haze.

You were taking advantage of the situation. He was only doing this to help you, a member of his team, that was all.

“Wait, wait,” you called, breathless and panting and he did, pulling back immediately, alarm on his face. A question in his lust-blown eyes, the golden green hue nearly swallowed by the dark pupil.

“You don’t have to do this. I don’t want to infect you” You said, tears in your voice. He tensed, hands readjusting you as he aimed to meet your eyes. He hadn’t even considered you infecting him, he knew you couldn’t. But you looked so sad. Then he got it. You had to be kidding. You thought-. Fingers firm but gentle on your chin made your gaze match his. He looked down, heart nearly stopping as he saw the ghost charm glint in the sun, newly attached to your dog tags.

A gasp left him. His gaze matching yours, now electric. He would devour you. “I’d fuck you whether or not I’m high on some plant, Peach. I’ve wanted to fuck you for ages.” It came out as a purr against your cheek as he leaned in, finally admitting it.

And you know he means it. You see it in his eyes, and you swear it’s enough to do you in.

You laugh, a truly mean-sounding thing. A smirk slides onto your face. His face tucked into your neck, kissing along your pulse point until you whined, hips jerking. He could feel your wetness on his fingers, sliding down your thighs, the hard pebbles of your nipples and your heartbeat roaring against his chest in tandem. Your short breaths caught against his ear as he ground into you. You sounded nothing short of heavenly, heat curling in his abdomen, an ache forming in his chest and navel, electricity smoothing up his arms at your feverish touch.

But he felt you pulling away. He took a long time to pull away from you, even longer to open his eyes. “What, what’s wrong?” His voice was nearly gone, cracking at the seams, it was all pure ecstasy.

Another laugh met his ears as your shaky legs met the ground. You turned so your back was to him. A flush of heat slammed into him as he took the view in. He marvelled at the slope of your spine, the dips at your blue hips, the stripes on your skin, the glowing dots across your shoulder blades. You place your palms on the tree, feet spread just slightly apart and then you lean back, putting just about everything on display.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just want you to fuck me from behind.”

And his hands are on your hips before you even truly finish your sentence. You hear the clink of his belt, hear it slide out of the loops, falling to the grass carelessly behind you.

“Can you do that?” You ask, hips swerving. It was a taunt. He wanted you, he could come get you.

Your back arched, pussy aching, truly dripping, heat plastered to your sweaty skin. You were fearless then, for the first time in your life. It came from being truly wanted, even if for a brief moment. A brief dalliance would be all this ever was anyways.

A quick yank to your braid as he wrapped it around his fist had you gasping, pleasurable pain ricocheting up your spine, your ass rubbing against his crotch as he pressed into you, the tree bark just barely brushing your nipples and you nearly screamed. It was too much.

“I can and will fuck you anyway you want. I’d fuck you standing.” He nuzzled into the nape of your neck, his tongue sliding along your tendon, the cool wind latching onto the saliva and making you shiver so hard you squeezed your eyes shut, knees locking, bark digging into your skin. He chuckled, “I’m gonna be buried so deep inside this cunt you'll never be able to forget it.” His filthy words were accompanied by one strong palm smoothing over your left hip, pressing against your abdomen, ghosting your navel. “You’re gonna feel me here.” You whined. Clenching around nothing.

It was painful. The plant coming in full force, demanding to be bred and fucked. Waves of pain spread the feeling of knives along your skin and he seemed to notice the switch from pleasure to pain again. His mask dropped. He didn’t ask what you needed, he already knew. Fingers slipped down to your cunt, and he swore, his hand slipping almost past it with how slick you were as if moving through water.

“Fuck, you're so wet.” One hand gripped at your breast, acting as an anchor to his chest, to ensure you stayed steady, ready for him as he thrust three fingers inside you. He swore as he felt your tight, slick heat.

A gasp and a moan met his ears as your back arched, ass pressing into him,  one hand gripped at his wrist, begging for what you were not sure about- but he did. His fingers were so thick, so good and you couldn't even think as he pressed three inside you all at once with a deep groan, slowly pumping them in and out, the sound of it almost comically loud as he focused on pressing up at just the right angle and depth to have you screaming, clenching around him so perfectly. 

Fuck, you were going to absolutely milk his cock.  

You fell forward, pleasure rushing over you like waves. You grasped at the tree desperately, knees going weak. “Please,” you moaned as his thumb slipped over to rub small tight circles around your clit. You went higher and higher, breaths lasting mere seconds as you gasped, voice high as you moaned. It was so fucking good, your tip toes pressing into the ground as you leaned up into his touch, hips grinding on his huge fucking hand.  His thrusts turned faster, harder, hitting the perfect spot. A sharp press of his fangs to the back of your neck, the broad base of his chest against you, pressing your nipples just slightly against the rough bark and you shattered.

He had to hold you up as he kept pumping his fingers, barely able to move them as your orgasm took over, clenching around him in waves as he continued to fuck you. It was a momentary reprieve. He could tell that was not enough because your breaths just picked up speed again and you arched your back further. “Inside, please. I just need you. I’m ready.” He wasn't sure if that was true, but he also couldn't imagine you could be more prepared. He pulled his fingers out of you, watching your essence fall to the forest ground.

He gripped your jaw, pressing you hard against the tree, your wide eyes meeting his, cheeks flushed purple, drool spilling from your lips. He nearly came at the sight. Quaritch pulled you back against him hard and you gasped, limp in his arms. Brought his arms in front of you, his right hand covered in your slick, his pointer finger trailing your lower lip and your tongue snuck out to taste. But his hand was gone, pulled away with a click of his tongue, head shaking down at you. “You’re so messy. Look at you, such a slut.” He spat the words out and you ached. He heard your heart beat jump and he laughed, bringing his hand to his mouth instead, tongue swirling around his fingers.

Eyes closed, he moaned at the taste. He was starving for it. You tasted so sweet. Truly like a peach. He licked every bit of it off of him as you whimpered at the sight. You tasted like heaven. He needed more, but he knew that wouldn't satisfy what the pollen induced lust was craving, so he shoved you forward again, your shoulder meeting the tree with a wince, pleasure shooting down to your cunt at the roughness.

“Finally fuck me.” You pleaded, ass wiggling back, voice edged in anger, frustration. And he broke. He yanked the rest of his clothes off faster than what should have been possible, bare feet bracing inside of yours as he rubbed himself along your pussy. You were plenty wet and smiled at the feeling. He had been fully hard since he turned around and saw you, since then just pulsing, feeling as his pants tried to stretch to accommodate him.

It was a mild relief. He could give you more of it.

He tapped his head against your clit just to hear you hiss, see hints of your fangs. Moving down he lead himself to your cunt. The slide inside you was immediate, and he swore, tensing every muscle in his body in an effort not to cum immediately. “Oh fuck, Peach.” He tried to think of something else, something other than your perfect fucking pussy clenching around him, tugging him in further like he was meant to fit there inside you near to the hilt forever. You felt like warm silk and he could feel himself get close, all as your hips moved back and forth, still struggling to take him all in. “Don’t.” he rasped.

You stilled, smile falling as you peered back at him, worried he changed his mind, worried you would never get the release you needed for the pollen to leave you.

“If you move, I'll cum.”

But that did not deter you. Actually, it seemed to make you move faster. You pulled off him, nearly hugging the tree until just the sensitive tip of his cock was inside you before sliding all the way back with a roll of your hips that had his hands seizing, his abdomen lurching in pure pleasure. “Fuck sake, stay still, girl.” You clenched around him at the nickname and he chuckled. He saw how it was. Two could play this game. If he would come quick, he would make sure you did it first, as many times as he could wrench from you. And his words always seemed to do the trick.

“Should have known you were a fuckin’ freak. The way you looked at me back then was absolutely filthy, baby. You wanted me even when I was fifty, isn't that right?” The southern drawl sounded so mocking as he thrust into you. It wasn't really a question, but he stilled, waiting for your answer.

“Yes!” You yelled, shame burned your cheeks as he slid his own against yours, leaning forward over you making you moan. He was so nice and deep.  You could feel his smirk. But you were rewarded for honesty.

He thrust into you so hard you saw stars before falling into a nice rhythm. Staying slow and hard with his thrusts as he spoke, his sweaty chest plastered to your back as his balls slapped against your clit. In between grunts and gasps, he spoke near your ear, but it was nowhere near a whisper. There was a bigger thrill because he was so loud. Anyone could hear, anyone could see. “Y’would’ve let me use that perfect young cunt any time I wanted, huh? Let me bend you over my desk right before a meeting, fuck you full. Have you leave with my cum’ still drippin’ down all over your pretty legs.” His words and a fast circle to your clit have you cumming again, this time around his cock. 

He swore, veins in his neck popping as you bared down on him, squeezing him for all he was worth. His own high closing in as he thrusted harder, slamming deep inside you, brushing something you didn’t even know existed. A gasp falling from your lips, eyes rolling back. He pushed a large hand into the divot of your back to force a deeper arch, your head falling forward as you braced for him. And he fucked into you hard and fast through your orgasm and past that, when you were so sensitive you barely realized that the heat was almost gone, the excess of sweat slowed to nearly nothing but from the exertion Quaritch was putting you through.

“Where do you- damn, “ a huff against your back, “I’m gonna cum, fuck-, where do you want me?” His hips moved as if to pull out of you as he asked, but you let go of the tree with one hand, grabbing the back of his thick thigh, getting half a handful of his ass, pushing him closer to you as you rock back on his cock, rolling your hips, making an effort to grind against his pelvis with fervor. 

Head tilted up, fucking begging internally for him to grab your throat, to lean down and kiss you, but you knew he wouldn’t. 

Not on the lips. He would never.  

“Inside Miles, cum inside me.” And it was you saying those words, your sweet voice breathy and the feel of you around him that did him in. Warmth flooded your core as he fucked up into you, in three hard slow thrusts, the sofest sounds you have ever heard from him escaping his lips as his head fell against your shoulder, shaking against your back, his ragged breaths making your hair stand up as you shivered, grinding back into him in slow circles. And he winced, making a noise that could almost be construed as whining if you were listening.

He was all over you, his scent flooding you, his seed inside you, spilling around his cock and down your legs. His sounds were so sensually sweet and it made your heart ache. He was yours. You would make sure of it. And you felt the heat rise in your body again, undeniable and painful.

When he pulled out, you turned, and in the last burst of a pollen-induced haze you grabbed the back of his neck, bringing his neck to your mouth, your fangs immediately piercing into his skin, tasting blood, marking him. He grunted in surprise, wincing as his arms grabbed your elbows, not pulling you away but holding you all the same. It was a primal thing, an urge you weren't even sure you could have, until you fulfilled it. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, lapping at the blood, delighting in the absolute pained sign-turned-moan that left his open mouth as you sucked at his blood, tearing slightly into his skin to affirm your mark.

A sudden shot of cum shot out across your abdomen as he wrapped your legs around him, his arms firmly around your back. Promptly falling on his ass with the force of his orgasm, moaning as his hips bucked into the air, chasing something that already passed.

You had done that.

The feeling of your fangs piercing his neck, marking him as yours had brought another orgasm right beside his last. Not even a minute later. That would not have been possible for any being other than a na’vi, and at this moment you were grateful for it. His strong arms held you tightly against him, your rapid deep breaths matching his, your ear plastered to his slick chest, the uneven rush of his heartbeat having your lips curl up. You looked up to see his eyes closed, squeezed shut as if in pain, rough hands slowly rubbing circles into your back, tracing the points of bioluminescence there, dewy grass tickling your knees on either side of his hips.

You felt the ache from the rough sex before the soreness in your muscles came over you. A side effect of the way he manhandled you or from the pollen you were not sure. You can't believe you just did that. You were in such shit. But it was not over yet. Both of you refuse to get up, to leave this haven and return to the realm where this is forbidden.

Your palm smoothed up his pec and farther to his neck, landing on the fresh blood there. You looked up, moving slightly off him, taking his jaw gently in your hands. His eyes looked calmer now, but his pupils were still very large as he watched you, breathing hard through his open mouth. You felt his breaths under your left hand on his chest, rising up and down with its force, gazing at his muscled figure, taking in every inch shamelessly. And he looked back at you tentatively, but not guarded.

Trusting.

Your other hand tilted his jaw to one side as you leaned against him, sweaty chests meeting as you felt his breath hitching. You placed a kiss on the bite mark and he flinched.

“I’m so sorry.” You said, voice tired but sincere. He just squeezed your hip, unable to talk. Not now, not like this. He was too vulnerable.

Your pointer finger found the spot you were looking for. The small freckle on his neck to the left side, on the edge of his adam’s apple. Dipping further down, strands of your hair tickling his chest you ever so softly kissed his beauty mark. A whisper of a touch. A loving touch.

Quaritch breathed sharply through his clenched teeth, like he was in pain and your eyes watered.

“Thank you.” You whispered, pulling away, hands sliding down his chest to his abdomen where your hips sat. It was such a soft gesture, your lashes fluttering as you met his eyes once more. 

It was too much.

“No problem, Ghost.”

You tensed above him, but forced yourself to relax again. Your throat burned with the tears as you pushed up off of him. Still slow and cautious. You didn't want to give too much away. Not anymore.

That use of your alias was deliberate. It was a placement of the iron wall between you once more and although you knew it was coming, expected it even, it still felt like your heart was collapsing, wildly jumping all around your body as pain laced through your every shaky breath. Your jaw clenched tight, leaving him in a pile on the grass. It was hard to angrily walk away after taking a pounding like that, if anything you angrily wobbled away, but still, it was done. You wiped the cum off your body with leaves, and roughly stepped into your clothes. Your braid was undone, brushed with your fingers and redone. No need to keep it down.

You were sure he didn't leave any marks on you anyway. Harshly, you looked back, stopping mid-tie of your combat boot to see him. He was refastening his belt silently, nearly a half yard away and you just stared at his chest, his arms, catching on his tattoo on the left bicep. You never got to kiss it, and that thought nearly killed you. The yearning was a stabbing pain in your chest. It felt like being torn apart.

You noticed the marks, he had plenty to pass him by and you felt almost guilty, at least a little.

How would he explain it all?

But another part of you, the part of you that felt compelled to bite him in the first place grinned, smirking like a Cheshire cat with all the milk in the world at her disposal. It was like you had written ‘mine, mine, mine,’ all over him in the red and blue-black bruises scattered along his abdomen, along his v line dipping into his pants. The scratches on his left thigh, and of course the fucking bite mark on his neck, carved into the perfect blue canvas there from your fangs.

But if he minded it, he didn’t say a thing.

He could heal it at base camp easily with a nice blue gel, with no scars involved. You knew he would, but wished he wouldn't.

He didn't even acknowledge it as he walked into the set-up camp an hour later with you in tow. Did not even make to explain both of your absences. He wouldn’t. He didn’t need to. They knew.

You looked more put together than the Colonel, and that was the most obvious tell of what had happened. No one was more put together than him. It was like the man was born a military man, created from strict order and perfection.

Besides that there was the fact that you reeked of each other. No one could tell which scent was who’s, or even tell who you were by scent alone anymore. Then if they somehow missed that, the ripped shirt sleeve on your left side and the missed belt loop on Quaritch’s right hip was a good clue. Along with the uneven gait from you as you walked up the hill beside him to meet them, gun slung over your shoulder.

But the best clue- the one that did them all in, it had to be the fucking bite mark.

No, the declaration of property,

plastered on the left side of their colonel’s neck.

******

bonus:

It was five hours since they landed back at base and all the recoms were playing cards in the deserted cafeteria, all eerily silent. 

Lyle could feel the tension in the air ever since you and Quaritch separated like the sea when Bridgehead came into view. You go to the showers probably and Quaritch heads off to explain himself to general Ardmore, looking only slightly more presentable than yesterday.

They all wordlessly looked at each other before Lopez spoke up, the sound of the helicopter still ringing in their sensitive ears.

“So… cards, anyone?” Lopez asked. Everyone immediately agreed, a series of frantic nods and a chorus of affirmation as they all moved to the cafeteria.

They didn’t even bother changing, showering, eating, just walked to the cafeteria jostling each other, sharing tidbits from the mission in small laughs, but they never dared to speak about you. Or at least not what they were all actually thinking about in terms of you.

“Did you see the way she jumped in front of Quaritch with the-“

“-yeah. Just like old times. Stepping in front of shit, for that old goat.” Prager laughed, shaking his head roughly, disbelieving. He never understood that. He never would.

“The way the fucking thing kicked her off a cliff and she like got up, like she was fine??” Lyle exclaimed with a scoff, hands motioning in front of him wildly.

“Yeah that’s Ghost, alright.” She huffed a small laugh. “Y’know, i’ve never seen the Colonel throw himself in danger for anyone. But he cleared that fucking hill immediately after she fell.” Z-dog sounded almost awed as she finished speaking, still chewing her gum that had long since gone flavourless.

They all nodded, silence falling again. Mansk pulled a very serious face as if he was thinking hard enough to hurt before he spoke.  “It’s because he never has.”

They all turned to look at him, stilling as memories washed over them. It was always Colonel and Ghost. Always. The clatter of the dining hall got so loud as they were awash in melancholy. He was right.

They took off their gear and rounded the benches, the cards came out and it was dead quiet once again, but the tension was thick. Hard to breathe. The only sound was cards shuffling, the rhythmic pop of Z-dogs gum, and Prager’s huffs whenever he lost (which was always). It was enough for Lyle to finally break after two rounds. “So we all agreed they fucked each other, right?” His voice not even close to a whisper.

“YES!” The group yelled, in unison again. 

Relief went through them so fast, like a huge wave that crashed over and through them, their tired shoulders hunching forward like a weight fell off of them. And excitement rushed in to take the tension’s place.

“I knew it!-”

“I called it!” Z dog laughed, “Pay up you leeches!” Her hands spread out, cards falling to the metal table as she made a mock grab for Prager’s pockets. He only snorted, batting her away with a soft ‘fuck off, z-dog.’ 

They all laughed, feeling the buzz return to them, the camaraderie. “I just can’t believe it. I thought she’d never do it.” Lyle laughed, almost a sense of pride in his tone.

Lopez snorted. “Why not? He's always wanted her.” Nods all around the table.

“Yeah, they just both would never admit it.” A chorus of agreement once again, but the silence dipped into their group again. An unspoken thing still hanging over them.

“So… what changed?”

No one had an answer. They were shocked seeing you guys trudge back up that hill an hour after Quaritch told them to set up camp. After they realized you had fucked the hell out of each other.  But for some reason it seemed so normal. Natural. The tension had to break at some point. Everything gives in eventually. And they had been waiting for you two to break for years. It took two  lifetimes. 

They didn’t want an answer. Not really. None of them would ever talk of it outside the group. They were not snitches and they cared for both of you far too much to even think of it anyways. 

They just hoped you two fucking didn't make your relationship worse, or even more complicated than it was naturally. 

But perhaps it already had…

*******

a.n: if you made it this far: I am impressed! I have had this idea since the first week of January and finally getting it out was great! I read it too much  to like it, or tell if it’s even good lol. But lmk what you think, or if you want a pt.2 👀 cause I’m thinking about it tbhhhh

#quaritch fanfic #miles quaritch #miles x reader #miles quaritch x reader #recom quaritch #recom quaritch fic #avatar fic #avatar x reader fic #avatar James cameron #quaritch x reader smut #avatar smut #filthy #nasty #fr

[tonowarii]

can i request the beloved catboy quaritch purring ITS NOT A WANT ITS A NEED MMMM

COMPLETELY okay if u dont have motivation, or if u just dont wanna do it!! Write whatever you feel like writing love ♡

kisses 😚

im just keeping this short and simple bc i need to experiment on writing quaritch 👹 also wrote this w a human reader in mind sooo

gif is not mine, credits to the owner!

Quaritch relished in moments like these where he finally gets to spend time with you. Needless to say, since getting his avatar body, he never felt better, faster, and even playful. But god forbid the lessons he had to go through in getting used to this. But yada yada, all this, all that- it finally paid off as he now gets to spend more time with you.

However this one particular morning, he was enjoying having you huddled on top of him, one of his arm wrapped around you so you don't fall.

It was like that when suddenly he was staring at you, seconds after you've just given him a decent uppercut with your head as you looked at him with wide eyes, as if you saw a ghost. It looked like you've just got shaken up by one hell of a nightmare.

"The hell was that for?" He grumbles in his old grumpy manner with a 'What the fuck?' look at you, his usual scowl returning.

But this discovery had your mouth wide and a mischevious glint in your eyes as you gestured all over in excitement.

"What? You forgot to speak?" He snarkily replied.

Quaritch watched as you lay your head on his chest a few times, making sure you weren't hearing things.

Then he hears your laugh, he was starting to get annoyed at this point, with his chin slightly aching and with you looking like a crazed scientist.

"I can't believe- oh this is great." You finally speak, looking up at him with one of your smiles that had Miles' features softening.

"What's so great? Me?" He chuckles. Although nothing could prepare him for what you said.

"I didn’t know you guys could purr!"

Pause.

Miles' expression drops, blinking. "Huh?"

"You're purring!! I can't - oh this is amazing." You laugh, leaning your head against his chest to hear the low rumble emitting from it, giving you a warm and comfy feeling.

Miles' huge hand raises to carefully pry you off his chest and not to accidentally flung you across the room.

"Come again?" He asked.

"You don't know? I mean can't you feel it? Or is it like a - what do you call that again-" You look up in thought as he simply stared at you with a puzzled expression. You give up on trying to search for the word, turning your attention back on the avatar in front of you, whose tail was flicking in curiosity behind him, ears flicking.

"Okay, do you... Feel anything?" You ask.

Miles simply shakes his head no. You roll your eyes. "Come on, cooperate with me Miles." The way his name rolls off your tongue had him complying.

He takes a moment to feel what he was feeling. He felt happy, content even— but he wouldn't admit that. Still, he then registers the low rumbling coming from deep in his chest. It was roaring- like an engine if you will.

His brows furrowed, is that what it was?

He thought you wouldn't be able to hear that... Has he been doing that for a while? That's weird, he only notices it when he's with you but he rarely pays attention to it. So that's what got you acting like a crazed scientist.

Miles looks at you, and he swore the roaring in his chest got louder. He didn’t even knew the makers programmed them to be able to do that.

"So you are just a big cat after all." You teased as you watched his face contort into realization.

"No I ain't, pumpkin." He was not going to accept this.

"Just accept it Miles," smirking playfully at him. "I wonder... If the other recoms know that their commander's just a big huggable cat that purrs." You teased.

"Stop it." He glares at you.

"Would you look at that I'm on my way down to inform the others."

You sing-song, about to jump off the big bed when you're suddenly hoisted back up on the bed on your back, with Quaritch's intense gaze meeting your eyes as his huge body hovered above you.

The act sent your heart thumping, Miles definitely picked up on that as he chuckles followed by a smirk at your sudden silence.

"What's the matter? Cat got your tongue, pumpkin?"

#atwow quaritch #avatar miles quaritch #atwow miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch x you #miles quaritch #miles quaritch x y/n #miles quaritch fanfiction #miles quaritch imagine #miles quaritch fic #miles quaritch one shot #miles quaritch drabble #avatar recoms #recom quaritch #avatar the way of water x reader #avatar the way of water #atwow x reader #atwow #avatar the way of water fanfiction #the way of water #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water imagines #atwow x you #avatar fanfiction #avatar imagine #avatar x reader #avatar x you #avatar x human reader #atwow x y/n #𝐲𝐬𝐚'𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬 ❁

[screechingchaoscrusade]

Can you do this with Quaritch and Spider?

Inspired by a fic that I think is by @/mayfriend ? 🤔 I'm pretty sure !! I absolutely love this fic it's amazing all around!!!

Spider not wanting quaritch to leave once again bleh terrible work but I am trying to get all my requests done, I'll get them done and Idm if more comes my way! Just more for me to draw!!!

#colonel miles quaritch #colonel quaritch #stephen lang #avatar #quartich & spider #atwow quaritch #miles quaritch #spider #recom quaritch #avatar spider #recom au? #maybe... though this fic and the author sre absolutely incredible

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

Curves

Femrecom!reader x Miles

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then you woke up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Suppose we did a little."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#miles quaritch #quaritch x you #quaritch x reader #avatar imagine #the way of water #recom reader #human miles quaritch #recom quaritch #my fics

[hotsingledragon]

ok so,, im back!!

THIS ONE ISNT A SMUT REQUEST (but if you want to make it smut go for it !! its your blog), but I’m thinking of maybe like a really sensitive and shy reader and just like normal miles😭but he’s very strict in this. let’s say little reader makes a mistake and miles is having a bad day, so he yells at her and is like “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? STOP” and she gets really scared and upset because this huge 9’5 man just screamed at her for something so small and she’s just thinking he could crush her like a bug, and how intimidating her boyfriend truly is so the poor thing just cries on the spot :((

would prefer human reader but anything is fine !!

in the morning i’ll be better

Recom!miles quaritch x human fem!reader

warnings: mean quaritch, cry baby reader, emotions!

Miles quaritch is rude, egocentric, and ignorant. It's who he is, and who he has to be as a commander. He's sarcastic and privy to his emotions, though his temperament can really get the best of him.

but Q loves his shy little girlfriend. she’d been so quiet and small when they first met, in her own bubble until quaritch decided he needed to pop it. He loves the challenge of working her out of her shell and is rewarded with her sweet smile and laughter.

Miles finds that she’s actually an open book. He can’t help but fixate on her delicate features when there’s only so much space between them! Miles always finds the smallest twitches in her expression, revealing exactly what she’s feeling. she feels so deeply. miles loves how expressive she is, silently rejoices in the fact that he gets to have her like this as very few have the opportunity

-loves when he can tell her a mundane snippet of his day and she’s glows in delight for him, as if compensating for his lack of enthusiasm

-Q will sneak glances at her when they watch movies, hearing her sniffles and he just pulls her in his lap. his heart squeezes when she wraps an arm around his middle and lets herself cry openly, allowing herself to be vulnerable in his arms.

-but it seems quaritch woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. What had started as simple as early morning grogginess turns sour and quaritch becomes an irascible, mean man. not even her bright spirit can bring him out of it.

“what are you doin’ in here?” his voice carries as he enters his office and she’s already there.

she perks up at his presence and smiles.

“hey, i had a bit of time and wanted to stop by,” she says, swinging her legs as she’s perched on his abnormally large desk- on top of his paperwork.

“dammit!” quaritch flares, stomping across the room. “get off my desk.”

she startles at his low, thundering voice and scrambles to jump off of the polished wood. She’s slightly alarmed and confused, but this is not the first time Q has been in a bad mood. She chances a glance at him from her small stature, an uneasiness growing in her belly. Quaritch is tense, shoulders bunched and fists clenching. He's so large compared to her, it’s impossible to not be intimidated. she begins to nervously fidget with her manicure. 

“I- i didn’t mean to intrude, i missed you before you left this morning and i wanted to see you,” she mumbles

Quaritch doesn’t acknowledge her as he takes the opposite side of the desk and assesses the clutter of paperwork. He rests his palms flatly on the desk, hangs his head and sighs deeply.

Quaritch raises to meet her eyes. “don’t I see enough of you at home?”

she’s stunned for a moment, unblinking as she processes his razor sharp words and finds his eyes burning with aggravation.

he raises his voice now, “go on. i got work to do and i don’t need you fuckin’ it up more than you already have.”

she’s still stuck in place, watching him. Quaritch begins to flare at her stall to action, rounds the desk again and takes strides to quickly approach her and thunders, “GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE.” 

it comes out quicker than he can catch it, and quaritch catches the fright that flashes through her and she takes a skittish step backwards. This immediately halts his steps, and quaritch is forced to watch as her sweet little face crumbles under his gaze. it happens in slow motion- her face becomes warm with humiliation, and that usual light in her eyes clouds over with a fresh spring of tears. her chin wobbles and she breaks their mutual gaze and dammit, now quaritch has really fucked it. 

she’s wrapping her arms around herself and turning her back on him towards the door and no no NO that’s not what he wants at all. He catches her wrist just as the door clicks.

and it’s a knife gouging inside his chest when she turns towards him, a veil of sorrow obscuring her usually radiant features. her cheeks are already blotchy from holding her breath, holding back her tears. Q feels awful, god he’s such a stupid prick.

“honey, i didn’t mean it”

and poor thing, she just bursts into tears. She tries to catch her sobs before they leave her chest, but she’s hurt, and even a bit frightened. It's heart wrenching, quaritch’s own expression falls and he’s immediately kneeling to her height. He holds her wrist gently, so fragile and small within his palm. He wants so badly to pull her closer. 

“baby, i'm sorry. so, so fuckn sorry,” miles says

“Do I bother you that much?” she cries loudly, looking up at him with tears clumping her lashes and tracking over her cheeks. Quaritch hates himself for ever putting that thought into her mind. He shuffles on his knees to be closer to her, reaching to take her other hand in his.

“no, no darlin’. you could never bother me. Don't know why I would even say somethin’ so goddamn stupid and incorrect. talkin’ out of my ass again.”

she doesn’t answer, her chest raking with every sob she lets out. miles begins to wilt, his heart in his stomach. he can’t stand being so far away from her. he takes a chance; sitting on his haunches and parting his legs so he can tug on her wrist until she’s crashing into his chest. he tries not to let his heart sink when she doesn’t reciprocate his touch right away. 

“didn’t mean it, doll. I'm sorry,” Miles says lowly, his chin resting on her head.

“you can be mean-you can be *so mean sometimes, miles.” she says wetly against his chest. she clutches the fabric of his shirt.

“I know, I know, i don’t mean to get that way,” he concedes, beginning to rub her back. He feels her take deep, steadying breaths.

“But you do, miles. more often than you think. Sometimes I feel like I'm tiptoeing through a landmine. I never know when you’ll blow up on me.” she sniffles.

-quaritch nods, truly considering her words. He knows he can be a dick, but he never wants to be that way with her. his heart clenches as he recalls the fear that flashed over her just minutes ago- and how he was the reason for it. Quaritch wants to kick his own ass.

The pair are quiet as she calms down, her tears subsiding. Eventually she wraps her arms around his shoulders, properly hugging him now. Miles is flooded with relief and pulls her closer. She smells sweet, like her conditioner and the fabric softener she uses. she smells like home, and god isn’t quaritch the biggest fucking idiot to even think of speaking to her that way. 

“stay here with me,” he breathes, nuzzling into her hair. she pulls away to meet his eyes warily, her own still rimmed red. Quaritch shakes his head as if to erase any doubt in her mind.

“Wouldn't want you anywhere else, sugar.” he tells her firmly, taking her hands. she sniffles and pouts, her eyes falling to their entangled digits. her thumb runs softly over his knuckles and miles heavy heart beats so fast. 

she takes a deep breath, finally meeting his eyes and nodding her head. Miles sighs in relief and hugs her close.

“Thank you, love you,” quaritch sighs. His anxiety eases when she locks her arms around him again. He wraps around her torso, petting her soft hair. They stay like that for a while, but quaritch really does have work to do. Wordlessly, quaritch moves to grasp under her thigh, pressing her close. Her legs instinctively wrap around his slim waist and quaritch easily maneuvers to stand with her in his arms. He walks them towards his desk and sits, holding her against his chest and begins to sort the scatter of documents. She lifts her head, eyeing the mess. 

“M’sorry i messed up your desk,” she mumbles.

“S’alright, wasn’t really organized to begin with,” he chuckles, then somewhat awkwardly clears his throat. “I'm really sorry, darlin’, you have every right to kick me in my hind end and tell me off. I don't ever wanna make you cry,” he says softly.

What quaritch doesnt know is that he’s an open book with her, too. Miles’ eyes are swirling pools of raw emotion, constantly changing and turning with the tide. She finds a genuine sorrow, a true apology darkening the chartreuse of his irises. She rises to kiss him softly in reassurance. 

And she feels the way the tension bleeds out of him, feels his slow sigh breathing from his nose. Quaritch lifts his fingers to cradle her jaw, brushing the soft skin. When they pull away, that cloudiness is gone and Mile's eyes are bright again.

She smiles at him. “Can I help?” she asks, already turning in his lap to face the desk. 

“Y’know, I’d appreciate it, actually,” quaritch says. His hands drop to her hips and he pulls her into him, her back pressing against his chest. He scoots further into the desk and drops a kiss on her shoulder and says, “I don't deserve you- too good t’me, too sweet,” in his low, american accent. She loosely throws her hand back to punch his chest. “I know,” she says, a light tease in her voice. Quaritch chuckles and holds her tighter, bowing to press another lingering kiss into her shoulder. And so they organize the clutter together, exchanging papers and reading off the information to one another. They’re a well oiled machine until every stack is bound and clipped neatly. She even writes sticky notes in her loopy handwriting to describe what the documents are about. When the job is done, quaritch is turning her around and kissing her like he’s been dying to ever since he stepped into the office.

notes: lol hello! thank you for sending this request! i was v excited to dig my teeth into this. i apologize for the delayed roll out, life punched me in the throat and took me out over the past couple of weeks but it was a nice reprieve getting to work on this. thank you envy for the request! please enjoy and leave some love! <3

#recom miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #miles quaritch #miles quaritch smut #recom quaritch #avatar quaritch #colonel quaritch #avatar miles quaritch #avatar 2009 #avatar james cameron #avatar the way of water #atwow #atwow x reader #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch x y/n #avatar imagine #avatar fics #my work #request

[fl3shm4id3n]

ₖᵢₗₗ Bᵢₗₗ

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

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

ꜱᴏɴɢ: ꜱᴢᴀ- ᴋɪʟʟ ʙɪʟʟ

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

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

15 ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ

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

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

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

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

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

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

#miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch x you #miles quaritch x y/n #recom miles quaritch x reader #recom miles quaritch x y/n #recom miles quaritch x you #recom miles quaritch x recom reader #miles quaritch x fem reader #recom miles quaritch fic #miles quaritch fic #female reader #female y/n #recom reader #recom y/n #avatar reader #avatar y/n #cereza's writing #Cₑᵣₑzₐ'ₛ wₒᵣₖ

[ball0fhoney]

I'm embarrassed how downbad I am, help

#avatar 2 #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #colonel miles quaritch #recom quaritch #colonel quaritch #fanfic #avatar fic #lyle wainfleet #jake sully #recom lyle wainfleet #quaritch #quaritch x lyle #quaritch x y/n #quaritch x oc #quaritch x reader #quaritch x you #lyle wainfleet x reader #wainfleet x reader #lyle wainfleet smut #recom x reader #recom miles quaritch #recom wainfleet #recoms #avatar x reader #avatar #avatar x y/n #avatar x oc #avatar x human reader #corporal lyle wainfleet

[whereireid]

I have an idea for a little blurb or something! Bunny becomes entranced by all of the different features Miles has from her like his fangs, queue, and tail… and he gets confused about why she turns so red and flustered until he starts to figure it out and then he taunts her about her excitement 🤭

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐌 | masterlist

pairing: miles quaritch x fem!reader

“Why you starin’ at me, bun?” Quaritch quips, his eyes glued to the comically large computer screen. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips, his ears flittering irritably in the process.

"'m not starin'," You huff, hiding your flushed cheeks when Quaritch shoots you an unbelieved look.

... he's right to do so, because you were staring. how couldn't you? Your mate is huge － so big and strong, with scary, glistening fangs and long slender fingers. With hair so short and a queue so beautiful and braided － braided by you.

"You gettin' shy on me now or somethin'?" He asks, swivelling his chair towards you, his head cocked to the side slightly. "you look hot, bun. somethin' on your mind?"

Quaritch must be doing this deliberately now. He stretches, tensing his muscles as he does so, the light from his office hitting his muscles just fine. Quaritch’s lips quirk upwards into a smirk, his teeth all shiny and white as he stares over at you, a low purr vibrating throughout him.

Your thighs clench together, and he just knows.

"Oh. that's what's on your mind. you're a dirty little bunny," he whispers, voice so low it sounds like a growl. Quaritch’s hand slides between your legs, and you freeze, feeling all warm and gooey when his fingers curl around your underwear, which is wet from your arousal. "Seems like you’re really enjoyin’ what you see, huh?"

#💬 — asks📝 #miles quaritch x reader #🐰💕—bunny fics #miles quaritch x you #miles quaritch smut #miles quaritch imagine #colonel miles quaritch #quaritch x reader #jake sully x reader #quaritch miles x reader #colonel quaritch #colonel miles quaritch x reader #recom miles quaritch x reader #avatar the way of water x reader #avatar the way of water #atwow x reader #atwow #avatar the way of water fanfiction #the way of water #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water imagines #avatar x reader #avatar #avatar james cameron #avatar 2 #avatar 2009 #atwow angst #avatar smut #atwow smut #avatar twow

[kaspavanlortsyal]

Quaritch/Recom FanFic Recs

Kaltxi! While I'm working on a fairytale AU project and procrastinating on Bridgehead Affairs, here are some of my recommendations for you to read! (I've basically just gone through my AO3 bookmarks and plopped them here, hehe.)

Left for Dead by @fictionramblings

daddy issues by makoodles

'anla by gardenofizabo

Don't Leave Me by @letsunity

A Trail of Crumbs by @bluedaddysgirl

A New Mission: Ash to Fire by @xenomorphee3

Let Me Fall by @beastlyblorbos

A Friendly Hand by @bluedaddysgirl

In The Middle by PoliteMenacePhD

Song of the Banshees by @letsunity

Five is an awful number by @bluedaddysgirl

Alas, It Ain't Kansas by Mistwalker97, SlyFoxTheBeast

Frakrr Say by @lanzzo

Bonus: Dark Fantasy AU!

Clipped Wings by @fictionramblings

Bonus: Spider Fic!

Storms of the Past by @yesthisismycurrenthyperfixation

#you are responsible for checking tags #have fun reading! #miles quaritch #ao3 #avatar 2 #avatar fanfic #quaritch fanfic #recom #recombinant #atwow #fic recs

[naavispider]

ALTERNATIVE, EVEN SILLIER PROMPT

Spider’s shoulder dislocated and he’s never experienced that before so he’s just hyperventilating, wondering why his arm is flailing around while Quaritch has to calm him down and pop it back into place.

This took me a while babes but here we are eventually 💞 Sorry it took me long 🤗

It was going to shit. You didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to see that. Fike’s attempt at wrangling an ikran had been going disastrously since he started, and although Spider had enjoyed watching the recom dodge the animal’s sharp beak in an attempt not to get his head bitten off, even he was starting to worry that the situation was fast approaching out-of-control.

Quaritch had already tamed his banshee, and was watching intently from the sky. Mansk had gone next, followed by Zdinarsk, but the majority of the group remained on the ground, shouting encouragement and advice from their vantage points.

Fike had seemed nervous from the start. It was clear, now, that he was struggling. The fourth member of project Phoenix had chosen a cyan blue male with green field marks - the kind of green Spider had seen in the aurora to the North. It was a beautiful ikran, but fierce. And Fike wasn’t prepared.

The recom was on the ground, pinned underneath his beast, who was snapping his beak trying to tear Fike’s head off.

“Watch it!” Prager shouted from beside Spider, who flinched when the animal lunged for Fike’s head again, this time managing to snap his ear. Fike let out a roar of pain as blood gushed from the place his ear used to be.

Behind him, Spider heard the sound of Wainfleet loading up the gun that Quaritch had wanted to use. No way in hell, thought Spider. Bonding with any creature on Pandora was a sacred act, and to do so with some kind of artificial aid felt like a violation.

Without thinking, Spider jumped forward, entering the match to help Fike. He didn’t want the recom to succeed, but he had to stop Wainfleet from shooting the ikran. “Stop!” he shouted as he lunged over a rock and put his hands up to the animal, exposed.

The ikran paused its attack on Fike just long enough to stare at Spider in surprise. Fike was dangling dangerously close to the cliff’s edge, and any wrong move would send them both over.

“Easy there,” Spider murmured to the animal, not looking her in the eye. He knew how stupid this was. Unlike the Na’vi, he couldn’t simply bond with the creature if it decided to attack. No ikran had ever tried to hurt him in the past, but that’s because he gave them space and never interrupted a fight. Nothing could save him if the banshee attacked.

“Kid, what are you doing!”

“Spider!”

“Get back HERE!”

He ignored the various voices and took another tentative step closer to the ikran. “Easy, boy,” he continued, hoping that Fike could get his act together soon and make the bond.

With a grunt of pain, Fike wriggled out from the ikran’s belly. The animal realised almost immediately and raised a sharp talon to slash down through Fike’s arm. Spider heard Fike’s grunt at the same time as Wainfleet yelled at him. “Get DOWN!”

Knowing he was in Wainfleet’s line of fire, Spider jumped to the side, hoping to distract the ikran just long enough for Fike to clamber on top.

That turned out to be incredibly stupid.

The ikran screeched furiously at him, turning its attention from the injured recom to Spider, giving Spider just a second to brace himself before the animal swiped him with a huge talon, the force of it sending him back several strides. He landed disastrously on the hard rock and cried out in pain as he realised something was extremely wrong with his arm.

He looked up, expecting the ikran advancing on him to be his final sight. What he actually saw was Fike finally pulling himself together enough to leap onto the animal’s back, grabbing his kuru and plunging it next to the ikran’s.

Once he was sure the pair were bonded and the situation was under control, Spider threw his head back and allowed the pain in his shoulder to consume him. He tried to push himself up into sitting, but could only use his left arm to support himself.

“Fuck!” he cried, clutching his right arm. This did nothing to ease the pain - in fact it made it worse. He’d never felt something like this before, and it scared him. He’d broken his arm once, and that was nowhere near as bad as this.

Before he knew it, Prager was by his side, along with Ja and Wainfleet. “What happened?” demanded Quaritch over the comms.

Prager’s hands were gently trying to manoeuvre Spider's right arm into a more comfortable position, while a focused expression clouded his face. “It’s dislocated,” he muttered. Wainfleet relayed the information over the comms and within moments the squad leader had landed, all thoughts of Fike’s battle to the death long over.

“Is that bad?” Spider asked through clenched teeth, trying anything he could to not cry from the agony. He couldn’t move his right arm at all, and his shoulder felt like it had simply been blown off.

“It’s not fun,” the medic responded, “but we can fix it quickly.”

Spider was mainly focused on keeping his breathing steady, so he tuned out the rest of the conversation. Wainfleet and Ja had left at some point, presumably to go check on Fike if he had landed yet.

Despite the pain, Spider reminded himself that at least his ear hadn’t just been torn off.

“-don’t carry any human-“

“-fuck him up?”

Spider looked up at this alarming exchange, glancing between Prager and Quaritch. “What’s going on?” he demanded, but it came out as a very half hearted groan.

Quaritch looked at Prager, who was the one to explain. “I can pop your shoulder back in, no problem. But it’s gonna be… painful. I’ve only got recombinant painkillers.”

“Is it safe?” Spider asked.

“It’s never really been tested before. Theoretically, there’s nothing toxic in the gas and air. But it’s around seven times stronger for recoms.”

“Gas and air?” Quaritch interrupted. “How’s that gonna work with his mask?”

“I can hook it up,” Prager responded simply.

Spider groaned, his shoulder choosing that moment to throb especially hard.

“It’s up to you, boss.”

“No," Spider winced before Quaritch had a chance to reply. "Give it to me.”

“Are you sure?” the squad leader asked, looking uncertain.

Spider nodded. He was big for a human - he could take it.

Prager took off his back and started to rummage for the equipment while Quaritch took over holding Spider’s arm in place. “Small breaths,” Quaritch murmured, and somewhere deep inside Spider did an internal eye roll that his genocidal father’s clone was giving him tips on pain management.

As if Spider didn’t know how to deal with pain.

“Okay kid, in a second I’m gonna plug the medicine into your exopack. It will only take a few seconds to diffuse and you’ll start to feel it.” Spider wanted to tell the medic to just hurry up already. “Then I’ll pop your arm back into place nice and easy. Just keep breathing steadily. You ready?”

Spider looked at him before nodding. Prager fiddled with the exopack on Spider’s back, which in itself felt vulnerable. Before he had time to dwell on this though, a strange smell permeated his mask. He breathed in deeply, and was hit with a wave of dizziness. Woah. Whatever the hell that was, it was fucking strong.

“Fuck,” he cussed as he closed his eyes and leaned backwards, afraid he was gonna pass out. Arms caught him from behind, adjusting him to a certain sitting position. He could feel Prager’s hands on his elbow and shoulder, but the pain was muted, as if it was waving at him from across an ocean.

“Clench your teeth and don't bite your tongue. You hear me, Spider? Just relax,” Prager instructed, and Spider tried to focus on the words, although it took him a while to process that simple instruction. Relax? Relax? When he was captured by the enemy and having to rely on the murderous RDA for medical aid? “You’re crazy,” Spider slurred with a smirk. He should be scared of them, but he wasn’t. “You’re… delusional…”

No one replied to him - at least, he couldn’t hear them if they did, because all of a sudden his elbow was jerked into a new position, sending a muted wave of pain over his skin like goosebumps. “OW!” He protested angrily. He couldn’t remember why Prager was hurting him. He couldn’t remember why he was here. He didn’t think he could even recall his name.

“All done,” Quaritch said awkwardly.

“Wwhat’ss done?”

“Your arm’s back to normal.”

Prager was watching him carefully.

Spider frowned. “What happened to m’arm?”

Prager raised an eyebrow, which was entirely unhelpful, so Spider turned to Quaritch. This was equally disappointing because Quaritch looked constipated.

This only heightened Spider’s anxiety. What had happened? It must be bad. “Did it fall off?”

“Just stay still while I wrap it,” responded Prager. The medic proceeded to create some sort of sling for Spider’s arm, but Spider wasn’t paying attention. He was more focused on the strange pink patches of skin that interrupted his natural blue.

How bizarre. Suddenly, it seemed hilarious. Why did he have pink skin when he was from Pandora? Nobody else did.

He couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped him. He tried to stop it but it came out more of a raspberry and spit sprayed the inside of his mask. “Why’s m’skin PINK?!” he cackled, finding it difficult not to wheeze in hysterics. “Hey… HEY! Do you see it?”

Quaritch didn’t look half as amused as Spider felt. His face was set in a sour expression and even Prager looked a little concerned. What had gotten into them? “It’s pink…!”

“Okay, try and keep your arm still okay, Spider?” Prager said.

“My arm?”

Prager nodded. “You’ll need to wear the sling for the rest of today to help with the tenderness.”

“What’s wrong with my arm?” he asked in worry.

“It’s fine, Spider. You just dislocated it.”

“Dis…?” He looked down at his left arm and brought it up to his face. “It’s fine!”

Quaritch sighed. “The other one. No! Don’t try to move that one…”

Spider looked down and was surprised to find his right arm was secured to his chest in a folded piece of white material. There was a large knot at the back of his neck. “What’sss that?”

“It’s a sling. It will keep your arm still while the shoulder heals.”

“My arm? What happened to my arm?!”

Instead of being helpful and explaining what had happened to his poor arm, Quaritch’s face twitched slightly.

“Aaaand that’s enough of that,” Prager said, fiddling with a tube that was connected to Spider’s exopack.

“Hey! Get off, you’ll choke me!”

“Shh, kid, it’s okay,” Quaritch tried to console him. But Spider knew he couldn’t trust this man. He couldn’t remember exactly why, but he knew he was bad.

“Do you even remember my name?” Prager asked, looking bemused as he sat back to pack away the medkit.

Spider frowned. “Why would I not remember y’name? I don’t have brain damage.”

“Then what is it?”

He knew this. He knew it. Wait… why did he not know it? “I don’t want say,” he whispered conspiratorially, as if spies were lurking nearby. “Anyone could be listening.”

Prager gave Quaritch a knowing glance, complete with a half smirk. It made Spider feel like he was being left out of a joke. “What’s funny?”

“Nothing, kid. Who’s listening?”

Spider glanced around nervously before replying in a hushed voice. “The demons.”

He heard a snort of laughter from somewhere, and looked up to see Wainfleet and Mansk had come back over to see what all the fuss was about.

“Shhh!” he told them irritatedly.

“Yeah, keep your voices down guys. The demons are listening…”

Wainfleet was the most thoughtful, being considerate enough to glance around and check if there were any nearby. "Shit, sorry Spider! Can you tell me what they look like so I can spot them?"

Spider's brow furrowed in confusion. What did the demons look like? It was like something was fogging up his brain, allowing their appearance to escape him. Wait... Demons? Who was he talking about?

"I don't know," he moaned, thoroughly confused.

"Aw, come on Spidey! I wanna know!" Wainfleet jeered.

But Spider's head was coming back to him. He looked at Wainfleet, and so did Quaritch. While Spider's look was of a hazy understanding, the Colonel's eyes flashed with warning. "That's enough, Corporal."

Prager stood up, having packed the equipment away, giving Spider a pat on his good shoulder and carrying his bag over to Fike, the next casualty of the afternoon.

"You still in space?" Quaritch asked, taking out his holopad.

"Huh?" Spider replied. What was Quaritch talking about? He'd never been to space.

"Are you with us yet? Or do you still think that having pink skin is hilarious?" Quaritch was scanning the screen of his tablet, which from behind looked like a satellite map.

Spider groaned. What had he been talking about? The pain in his shoulder was starting to come back to him now, though it wasn't as bad as before. It just felt like it had been over exercised.

Quaritch chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes."

"How long do I have to wear this thing?" Spider asked in disgust, gesturing to the sling. It was constricting and uncomfortable, preventing him from climbing and even running with decent balance. The sooner he could burn it the better.

"Prager said at least for today. But I'll get him to look you over again this evening."

"Right."

"Until then, you're staying with me."

"What-?" Spider said, alarmed, but Quaritch had already pulled him to his feet by his good arm, marching him towards his ikran.

"I clearly can't trust you on the ground. Within ten minutes you almost got yourself killed." He hoisted Spider up in front of him, and was only successful because Spider's senses weren't what they usually were after the anesthetic.

Annoyance burned away the last of the gas and air in Spider's system. "I'm fine," he protested at the indignant manhandling.

"Yeah, yeah. Tell that to the demons."

Spider swore under his breath.

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