Jealousy? You Wear It Well

I read "The Lie of Providence" and I loved the sibling dynamic that Reader and the kids had, do you think you could please write a little spinoff of all of them (including Spider, of course) doing... the typical chaotic and fun things that all siblings do? 😅

Hello! So sorry for the late reply! I'm still trying to figure out something wholesome to write! In the meantime, please enjoy this absolute nonsense I made in a single evening!

R.I.P Lo'ak LMAO!

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

💝💝💝THE USUAL SUSPECTS 💝💝💝

@rsclopez, @manymaria111, @olivia-the-weirdo, @sarcasticrandy, @royallaufeyson, @essenceinpink, @totesnothere04, @mechformers, @angel-of-silver369, @the-hufflebird-girl, @villirios, @dyingofcookies, @goddesslilithmoriarty

If you don't think that fanfic writers get attached to their commenters and repeat commenters... you're crazy.

There's people who comment on my stories, disappear for months at a time, then comment when they catch up and I almost always remember their tagnames. It means the WORLD to me as a writer to have people who comment both regularly and irregularly on my stories/oneshots/moodboards.

When you guys go away for a few weeks or months... we notice! We hope you're okay and just taking a break, and when you come back rested and excited to read more stories, we're so happy to have you back.

So yes, please comment on stories even if it's once in a blue moon. You're not annoying, you're not overbearing for multiple comments or being super excited. You're helping fuel a writer to keep writing just to see what you have to say next about the next chapter! You're doing the Lord's work with your comments!

Whether you leave a Russian novel in a comment, or just go "noice", like... it makes the writer brain go !!!!!!💞

What Do I Tell My Friends Family? Pt. 3

word count: 7589

Pairing: Recom! Miles! Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi! Reader Tags/Warnings: nsfw, fluff, comfort, bonding, good feels

Author's Notes: Aye yo this took forever omg, my apologies for the wait! 7.5k words later! Hope it's to your liking everyone! The softness! Some niceness for Reader TwT Apologies for grammatical errors.

<previous chapter> | 3 | <next chapter>

It’s him.

It has to be him.

You see it in the way he stands, the swag of his stride. But it is most apparent in the way he tastes. This Demon, though he tastes of something wild and foreboding, there is still this underlying taste that is so wholly Quaritch. And you hate him for it. Hate him for everything he is, for everything he isn’t, and for everything he should be.

You cannot even begin to fathom his creation, dare not even ask him. How does he live without being piloted at the behest of his human body? Whatever the reason, it does not matter, at least not in the present.

You are grateful that the visits to the machine have stopped, at least for now. A small reprieve. The Demon’s visits however haven’t lessened in the slightest. He visits you nightly, you think, and based on that alone, you surmise your stay thus far has lasted 2 weeks, perhaps just short of it.

You stopped resisting after that first night. The threat of losing your kuru alone was enough to instill obedience within you. He leaves as soon as he’s done; you resign yourself to deal with him as he sees fit, anything to get him away from you as soon as possible.

Every look, every lingering gaze, every word of filth that drips from his mouth; a painful reminder of your human. Your prayers to Eywa go unanswered; without tsaheylu, you are far from her reach.

---

He hates it.

He fucking hated it; to not be in control of one’s faculties. There was a pull, a tug, a thread made taught. And always did it come back to you. He cannot explain it. Your notable sudden obedience is welcome, but it does not stop the guilt that floods him to the core.

He knows what he’s done to you, continues to do to you, is wrong. And yet he continues to seek you out. There is something indescribable he finds, some intangible force that beckons him; it’s as if this cursed planet itself commands it.

He wonders how long this’ll last though. General Ardmore is growing impatient. His squad has yet to produce any results. And somehow, beyond all possible reason, you have remained stalwart against the machine. He admires it at least, such loyalty, such unfettered willpower.

Perhaps he should consider a gentle approach with you, he thinks. It seems to be working with Spider. The kid has become noticeably more friendly with him and his team, and he wonders if he can convince you both to show the squad how to get one of those dragons.

“Colonel.” Quaritch is pulled from his thoughts and turns to regard the Admiral as she approaches.

“It’s time. Bring the prisoner in, put her back in the machine. She’s had enough of a break. This time, we’re going all the way.”

“All the way? Won’t that kill her?”

“Some sacrifices are worth it Quaritch; especially if we get the information we need. Sorry to cut your, leisure time, short.” She leaves without saying another word.

His tail flicks in annoyance, ears pin to the side of his head. There it is again, that ghostly feeling, the unseen guiding hand beckoning him. A whisper of a warning. He needs to make sure those science pukes don’t hurt you.

---

When you hear the familiar swoosh of the door opening, you sit at attention on your knees, ready and expecting Quaritch.

When he strides through the door, you shuffle to get comfortable. But the look he gives you stirs something uncomfortable inside you.

“Let’s go sweetheart,” the tone of his voice is unsettling and despondent.

Oh no.

No, no, no.

“P—please…Not that…anything but that…” You beg him, eyes watering at the memory of pain. You aren’t sure you’re resolve is strong enough this time. He gently but firmly grabs you around your upper arm, pulling you to your feet.

Immediately you struggle, try to pull yourself back, but it is of little use. He’s just so much stronger than you. As he pulls you along down the winding halls, you start to cry uncontrollably. You claw at his arm, begging in a blend of Na’vi and English.

He calls for Wainfleet and Mansk to help secure you in. He leans in and whispers, “I’m sorry,”.

You don’t believe him.

---

It feels like fire dances upon your mind. The swift cut of a knife. To tear muscle from bone. The restraints cut into your skin with how strong you struggle against them, thin beads of blood trickle along their edges.

You scream with all your might, throat raw, vocals threatening to tear.

The memories they pull do not make sense; an amalgamation of colours with no discernible imagery.

Quaritch can feel annoyance radiating off the Admiral standing next to him, arms crossed and tapping her fingers. She seems completely unbothered by your cries.

“Give us what we want. Which clans are harbouring Jake Sully?” She asks you, but you make no response.

“What the hell is happening? Why can’t we pull anything clear?” She demands angrily.

“I don’t know mam! The readings aren’t making any sense!” One of the scientists is in a panic, in fact, Quaritch notices they all are. Running around, fidgeting with control panels left and right.

You start bleeding freely from your nose. Your eyes are squeezed shut in painful suffering, tears streaming down your face. It takes all his will power to not push through everyone and wretch you free.

But he’s gotta stop it. He’s gotta do something. He can’t let this crazy bitch kill you. They’d find another way. There has to be another way to get to Sully. And maybe, just maybe, killing his kid was not the best way to go about it.

Spider is definitely not going to forgive him for this. He’s not even sure why he even cares so much about the opinion of one savage raised wildling. After all Spider’s not his son; he’s Quaritch’s son. All he has is that man’s memories. He’s not him, not really.

Before he can really fall into some existential crisis, he perks up at the sound of a very familiar voice.

‘Sweetheart put the damn knife down before you hurt yourself.’

‘Wha-?! I’ll have you know my father trained me!.’

The sound of scoff. ‘Yeah I bet. C’mere and show me so I can see what he did wrong.’

That’s…his voice. And that other one, is that yours? The image on the tiny screen in front of you is slowly coming into focus. He hears a soft giggle, a melody oh so sweet.

‘You’re impossible!’

The image snaps into focus immediately, and what he is faced with, causes every nerve in his body to tense up.

There he is. Human Quaritch, there in your memory, and it seems you’re not that much taller than him. That does not make sense. There’s no feasible way for you to have been born, grow up to that height and age, and interact with his human self. Jake hadn’t been on the planet long enough for that to happen.

 He’s so confused. That shouldn’t be possible. He, that man, died years ago. What the hell is going on here? Where could you have possibly gotten these memories from? Did you make them up somehow? Figure out a way to fool the machine? He looks to you then, and his blood ran colder than the corpse of his former self.

You’re slumped back, no longer screaming, no longer fighting. Blood paints your face, broken by streams of tears. He’s about to reach for you when one final image flashes on the screen. A dark room. Looks like his old bedroom back at Hell’s Gate. There he stands, in the centre. He turns to look at the camera, at you.

‘Well hey there Sweetheart. Now aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes…’

Before Quaritch can even reach for the emergency shut-down button, the machine suddenly sputters to a stop, sparks flying from it’s spinning mechanism. The screen before the admiral flashes red, loud static screeches from within, causing everyone to cover their ears.

“ENOUGH”

The power goes out, drenching the lab in darkness. The only light permeating is that from yours and his bodies. It takes only a few seconds for the power to return.

He looks to the General, and she is pissed.

“Care to explain, Colonel? What the hell was that?” Quaritch holds his hands up defensively.

“I have no memory of her. I don’t know what any of those images were. He didn’t talk about no Na’vi woman in any of his messages, and she sure as shit ain’t in any of the memories you gave me. I ain’t got an answer for ya.”

She eyes him suspiciously. A stare down. He can feel his ears pin back in annoyance, tail lightly swishing. But he spoke the truth.

“Fine. I believe you. Could very well be someone he acquainted with after his memories were backed up. Though that still raises more questions. And I intend to get those answers one way or another.” She looks to you then, completely unbothered by your appearance. She notices the faint rise and fall of your chest. Still breathing.

“Get her out of here. See to it that she’s ready and able in the next few days.” She walks away from him, not leaving any room for argument. She immediately goes to the scientists to assess the machine, a damage report, run diagnostics. Quaritch doesn’t need to be told twice.

Hastily he unfastens you from the machine, picks you up in his arms and rushed you to medical.

---

The doctors give you a thorough once over, made sure there was no lasting damage. To his utter relief, you were miraculously alright. But you remained fast asleep. After the check-up he brought you back to your cell, carefully placing you on the bed. He tucked your knees into you in an attempt to try and fit all of you on the bed the best he could.

He knelt before you then, stared at your face intently. You looked so peaceful, the slow rhythmic sounds of your breathing luring him in. He brushed some of your hair out of your face, the stain of blood and tears still slightly visible; the scientists did what they could. He’d have you wash yourself proper once you wake up.

His eyes widened. Would you even wake up after something like that? And why does even care, really? You aren’t anything to him; not really. Maybe you were to his human self, but even then, the memories he carries cut off before then apparently. But the longer he stares at your face, the tighter his heart squeezes. An uncomfortable knot forms in the pit of his stomach. Too afraid to dwell on these feelings, he stands and hurriedly leaves the room; he’d check on you later.

He’s got to tell Spider. The kid was going to find out about this one way or another. He’d rather the kid hear it from him.

---

“There you are! What happened before? All the lights turned off. The power go out?” Spider rushes to him as soon as he enters.

He’s words get caught in his throat as he stares down at the boy. His not-son. But he kind of is, isn’t he? The memories demand it so. The paternal feelings he has for this boy are undeniable. But whatever trust he’s brokered with the boy, he’s all but shattered now.

“Why’re you looking at me like that…?” A worried look crosses Spider’s face. “Did…Did something happen to my sister? Did you guys hurt her? Where is she?! I want to see her!!!” The longer the silence remains, the more agitated Spider becomes.

“I’m sorry kid…The science pukes, and Ardmore…They put her in that brain scan machine. It knocked her out cold.” He feels shame relaying this to the boy. The hurt and shocked look that adorns his face cuts him something deep.

“Let me see her. LET. ME. SEE. HER.” Spider tries to push pass him, but Quaritch stops him with just a hand. Spider pulls his hand away and makes for the door. And so the two start struggling. Quaritch holding him back with all his strength, all the while Spider fights him with all his might and willpower, screaming at the top of his lungs. He had to see you. Had to get to you. You can’t be hurt. He’d never forgive himself. For you to be suffering while he was out having fun with the recoms?

“LET ME GO!!! LET ME SEE MY SISTER!!! PLEASE!!! LET ME SEE [Y/N]!!!”

‘[Y/N]? That’s…your name?’ He’s taken aback by the sound of your name. Had he really not deigned to ask it of you all this time? Shameful. Disgusting.

A sharp pain suddenly slices through his skull. He pushes Spider to the side, clutching his head as he falls to his knees. He yells in pain.

Spider is taken aback by the sudden action, picking himself off the floor as he stares intently at Quaritch. Before he can ask what’s wrong, the older man gets up and exists the room in one fluid motion, no words said. Spider bangs on the door, demanding to see you, all the while he can’t stop the tears that start streaming down his face.

---

[Y/N]…

[Y/N]…

[Y/N]…

Your name repeats itself like a mantra in his thoughts, dances across his mind draped in silk. The pain has subsided, leaving a dull ache in its wake. He stumbles his way back into his room, collapsing onto his bed. He’s grateful that they were made with their new bodies in mind.

He thinks then, about those images he saw on that screen. He called you Sweetheart. And the looks he gave you? He meant it. The very implications themselves were troubling. What the fuck was he doing after he made these back up memories? Over and over he replays them. Those images. The sound of your laughter. And your name.

Sleep takes him before he even realises.

---

Quaritch opens his eyes with a start.

White.

That’s all he sees. There is no sky, no ground. No floor, no ceiling. Only the bright brilliance of white. He lifts his hands to his face, the blue of his hands a stark contrast to the world.

Where was he? Was he dreaming? He didn’t feel in pain anymore.

He turns himself to assess his surroundings. He finds himself floating, no solid ground beneath his feet. He tries to move then, and finds his legs are held steadfast by an invisible force. He is only able to turn his top half, barely.

A voice then, interrupts his struggling.

“You know, my son…You sure are taking your time. When I put you in that new body, I didn’t expect you to take this long to remember…”

The voice is soft like feathers, the melody of spring. But it is also deep like the ocean, dark as night, hot like fire. It bathes him in sunlight, and burns him all the same.

“Who—who’s there?! Show yourself! Where am I?!” Fear pools into his being. He does not like the feeling of not being in control.

“Silly boy…Always so feisty! It seems then, that you are in dire need…Of a little push.” On that final word, he feels a hand touch between his shoulder blades, and push him with all its might.

The world snaps to black and suddenly he’s free falling. He can’t help the scream that rips from his mouth. He hears a giggle slowly fade above him as he falls further into the abyss.

---

Quaritch sits up in his room, screaming at the top of his lungs as he does. He grabs his mask and breathes deep, trying desperately to calm himself.

Where is he? Where are you? He looks around his room, confused almost. Right, he must have fallen asleep after his talk with…his son? Miles. No, Spider. His son. His. He looks at his hands, almost expecting the golden tan of his human skin. Human?

Confused by his own train of thought, he stumbles into the bathroom to splash water on his face.

He grips the sink tightly, staring at the water as it goes down the drain.

It feels like he’s been asleep for so long. Everything is so foggy in his mind. Spider is, his son. And he called you his sister…You…You? YOU!

The memory crashes into him hard enough to knock him to the ground. Everything snaps hard into place; he feels as though his mind has been whipped a hundred times over. It is a pain he would be happy to not revisit ever again.

The last time he saw you, in the Dreamscape. You disappeared like you usually do, but then…a voice.

---

“My son…”

“Oh…it’s you.” He cannot see her. She never shows herself. But Her presence is felt. It encapsulates his entire being. He cannot escape Her influence.  He wonders if She’s here to chastise him about what he’s been doing with you.

“There is something you must do for me, Child. And I am going to put you to rest until the time is right.”

“What? To rest? Why?” Not about you, a good start. Though he finds her request strange all the same. Put a soul to sleep?

“Silly Child. Do not question. When you awaken in your new body, you will not remember. I will let you keep those, fake memories, your fellow Sky People made.” Ah. That.

“Shit…they really gonna go ahead with that?”

“Language.”

He rolls his eyes at the reprimand.

“Why put me back? Wouldn’t the backups be enough to get the body goin?”

She laughs then. As if this was truly the funniest thing imaginable.

“The arrogance of your kind astounds me, truly. No. Your, ‘backups’, will never suffice. I would never allow it. These Na’vi bodies will exist because I allow it. And they will end, because I demand it.”

“Wait, did you say Na’vi?”

---

And then, nothing.

She must have been true to her word. Cutting him off then suddenly putting him into a sort of stasis sleep.

Quaritch throws up into the toilet beside him, reeling as his mind tries so desperately to make sense of all the memories bombarding him at once. He’s not sure how long he lies there, sorting through it all. Groggily he sits up, and goes to the sink to clean his mouth properly.

The minty feeling brings some relief.

When he sees his reflection, it’s a weird feeling of something he’s never seen, and something he should be used to after being awake all this time. He closes his eyes, rubbing his hands down his face in frustration.

In image of you flashes in his mind.

‘[Y/N]???’

His eyes fly open and the thought of you. Guilt tears into his flesh, ripping through blood and sinew. He’s hurt you. He really hurt you. Used you. And you gave up, you just, took it all. He has to find you, he has to apologise, has to make it right somehow. He has to explain, he didn’t remember! Else, he’d have never—!

He runs out the room without finishing that thought.

---

The sound of a door opening is the first thing you register.

Your mind is filled with fog, senses dulled. You muster what little strength you can to open your eyes, but it’s not enough. The only thing you see is a silhouette approaching you, and in the fog of your mind, it looks so much like Your Human. You close your eyes and weep softly.

You think you feel yourself being lifted up, but you're not sure for how long. Next think you feel is the soft feeling of a bed beneath you. There is a hand on your cheek, and it is so warm, so familiar. Then a whisper of your name, and something else.

“[Y/N]…I’m so sorry darling…”

---

When next your eyes open, the room is dark. But damn do you feel refreshed. You haven’t slept that good since you got trapped in this place.

You sit up and stretch, clicking joints as you do.

Your eyes quickly adjust to the darkness, and your heart skips. This is not your cell.

It is bigger. There is a door ahead, presumably out, and what you can only assume is a bathroom door to your left. The bed you’re on is in the corner of the room, and it’s big enough for your tall body. You look to your right and cover your mouth before you can scream. You shuffle back and press yourself into the wall as if it would swallow you whole. You almost hoped it did.

There beside the bed, uncomfortably sat in a chair, arms crossed and asleep, is The Demon.

Did he bring you here? Where exactly is here?

You gaze around the room once more, taking note of some gym equipment in one corner, and the clothes neatly folded in an alcove on the wall. Slowly you move your hands from your face and breath deep, quietly. The scent is unmistakable. This must be his dwelling. You lean down and sniff the sheets. Yup, that’s him alright.

You try to move off the bed quietly, but the shuffle of the sheets is enough to alert him.

His eyes are on you immediately. You stare at each other.

You break eye contact and scramble for the door.

But he’s just as quick, and a strong arm grabs you around the waist, pulling you flush against his front. His other arm crosses over your chest to hold your arms still. You start fighting, kick and screaming, hands clawing at the arms holding you steadfast.

“Let me go! I don’t want to see you! LET ME GO YOU MONSTER! I WON’T LET YOU HURT ME ANYMORE! I’D SOONER DIE THAN LET YOU TOUCH ME AGAIN!!!”

You’re screaming at the top of your lungs. Quaritch is grateful that the rooms are sound proof.

“[Y/N]! [Y/N], calm down! Please!” But you ignore his plea and continue to thrash wildly. “[Y/N]! Listen to me, please! It’s me!!!” You stop dead at that, and the Demon continues. “It’s me…[Y/N]…it’s me…”

You become stock still at those words. You heart beats hard in your chest, the implications of his words break you.

“No…no it’s not…you look like Him…you smell like Him…but you are not Him…” you spit with as much venom as you can, but can’t help the tears that flow freely. The waver in your voice breaks his heart.

“It’s me Sweetheart…I promise…Here, look at me…please…” You feel him loosen his hold on you. He moves his hands to your upper arms, and slowly he turns you to face him. Your tears continue to fall silently.

You look up at him then, meeting his gaze. And in that darkened room, you see Him. Those golden eyes shine down on you, staring at you with such reverence, sorrow, guilt, longing. It all dances in the liquid gold of his eyes. And the way he pinches his brow, is so like Him.

“…Miles?” He lets out a shaky laugh, a sigh of relief. You do remember him. Thank the Great Mother.

“Yeah…it’s me sweetheart. For real this time.” He moves one hand to your face, gently swiping his thumb to brush away your tears. It doesn’t matter, they don’t stop falling as you stare up at him.

“Seeing you in person like this…Getting to touch you, for real…You’re more beautiful than that Dream ever made you…” You scoff at him, and can’t help the smallest of smiles. His other hand moves to cup the other side of your face. You move both your hands to cover his.

“Skxáwng…I only look like this because of my soul, remember?” The low rumble of his chuckle sends shivers down your spine. Oh how you have missed him. But you can’t forget everything that’s happened. You place a hand on his chest, feeling the fast beat of his heart. His strong heart.

“…Why?” You don’t need to elaborate; he understands what you are asking of him.

“…Eywa, she…She came to me. The last time I saw you. Just after you left…”

“The Great Mother spoke to you?” You are shocked. He nods, and continues.

“She told me, she’s gotta put me back in a body. But I wouldn’t remember anything…Not properly. Before I died, I made a back up of my memories. A contingency plan in the event of my untimely death. Seems the higher ups went ahead and resurrected me and a few others, but in Na’vi bodies. But Eywa, she said, these bodies wouldn’t, exist? Without her say so, I guess. So…I’m assuming all of us recoms, are actually harbouring our original souls, that she kept. For this reason I suppose.”

You swallow thickly. It’s a lot to take in. Your eyes cast downward as you try to process it all. So Eywa, blessed Great Mother, did she foresee this? And she keep these human souls so their Na’vi bodies would live?

“[Y/N]…” Quaritch calls you, and you look up to meet his gaze. “[Y/N], I’m so sorry…I mean that, I’m really fucking sorry…Everything I did to you darling, I hurt you. Really hurt you. Please know, that wasn’t really me. I wasn’t thinking properly. If—if I remembered, I would have never—” You jump at him unexpectedly, wrapping your legs around his waist, arms around his neck. Instinctually he has one arm supporting your rump, his other hand splayed across your back. In this position, it’s your turn to look down at him.

 “It’s…I don’t want to say it’s okay…Because it’s not really okay…But…I understand. And I’ll forgive you, in time…” You see the quiver of his lips, his ears pressed back as he tries to not cry.

“I’ve missed you so much Quaritch…I thought you left me.” You pull him into the crook of your neck, holding his head to you tightly. He breathes deep the smell of you.

“Never darling. I would never have left you willingly. I’m sorry.” You press a kiss to the side of his head. And it’s all he needs to break. He weeps quietly into the crook of your neck. He truly never meant to hurt you, and he will hate himself for a long time for the things he did against your will.

When he stops, you gently push on his shoulders for him to lean back. When once again your eyes meet, it is your turn to wipe away his tears. You smile at him, gently tracing the stars on his face. Carefully you study his face, really looking at him. He really is Your Human, made Na’vi. Such a handsome face.

“This body suits you well, Quaritch. Then again, you were always handsome.” Even in this low light, you can see the blush that creeps on his skin.

“Heh…that right?” He smirks and you all but melt at the toothy grin. You feel his tail wrap around yours.

“Yeah…that’s right.”

You kiss him.

You kiss him and it’s filled with every lonely night, every mournful sleep, every minute of every day you missed him. You move your head to deepen the kiss, the need for breathing be damned. You feel his hands grip at you tighter, feel him press into you that much harder.

His lips are softer than you remember, and you revel in the feeling. You on the other hand, are just as he remembers; something akin to perfection. The Peace of Eden granted to him.

The two of you move your mouths along one another in a hot sloppy mess, filled with nothing but unspoken words, drenched in a cacophony of emotion. It is almost overwhelming. You feel him lick your lips, begging for entrance, and you are all too eager to oblige. You part your lips and go for his tongue first. You moans low into your mouth at your boldness. The two of you don’t fight, but let your tongues dance in each other’s mouth, tasting and drinking deep of one another.

After a time you break apart, you rest your forehead to his, nose to nose, as close as you possibly can while still being able to breath. The air is hot with your mixed breath.

“I have definitely missed you,” you say breathlessly with a smile, eyes half lidded in bliss. He smiles up at you.

“Then, let’s make up for lost time,” he says and gently lets you down back onto your feet. You entwine your hand with his and move to pull him to the bed, but he doesn’t move. You turn to look at him questioningly.

“Nuh-huh sweetheart. This time, it’s all about you.” He says and pulls you toward the door near the bed. He touches a panel on the side, and as you had expected, it opens to a bathroom.

“Come. Let me take care of you. Properly. Like you deserve.” He leads you in, the door shutting behind you. He is gentle and purposeful with his movements. He moves slowly, as if to savour every moment. He begins with undressing you. Ever since he had ripped apart your original clothes, he had given you a tank top and shorts made for one of the recom girls; though the top did little for you, considering your size.

Once you’re completely naked, he starts undoing your hair. He leads you to the far wall, two shower heads, one overhanging the other. He turns a metal knob and hot water shoots out the higher head. It falls on you like heavy rain, and you sigh audibly at the feeling.

Satisfied you’ll be okay for a moment, Quaritch takes the opportunity to undress himself as fast as possible.

Immediately he’s back at you.

You feel him undo the braid of your kuru. He tilts your head back, slowly he massages your scalp. He rubs his strong thick fingers in slow circles on your head, massaging deeply at the base of your kuru. You moan at the feeling.

“That feel good?”

“Hm-hmm,” you hum contently in response. He nods to himself.

You feel him lather something into your hair then. It smells nice, but also, very strange yet familiar. You realise it’s something you have smelt on some of the scientists back at base. It must be something they wash their hair with then. You don’t really care, more interested in the soothing way Quaritch massages your hair. Carefully he washes your hair, being extra careful with the long hair for your braid.

You can’t help but smile at the attention.

A new smell hits you, and you feel his hands on your body this time. Slowly he works, lathering softness up and down your arms, your neck, your belly, your back. When he gets to your chest, he massages your mounds for longer than you think is necessary to clean them. You don’t mind though, and enjoy the soft pleasure it gives you. You lean your head back into his chest as he continues to massage you in each hand. You feel his arousal between your ass cheeks, and it excites you that much more.

He stops himself though, can’t get too excited. He wants to finish what he started. A soft wet material is placed gently on your sex, and you feel him carefully clean your most intimate parts. When he’s done there, he’s back to using his hands, rubbing them up and down your legs, up and down your tail. He lifts one leg to wash your foot properly, and you giggle at the ticklish feeling. You playfully hit him with your tail.

“Hey, I’m trying to work here,” he says as he busies himself with your other leg.

Once his done, you expected him to get back to his feet. Instead you are caught off guard when you feel his hands squeeze both your ass cheeks apart. You turn to him, and find him on his knees, and you can clearly see just how aroused he is.

“Turn back around baby. Brace yourself on the wall, and stick your ass out for me.” You don’t need to be told twice. You pull your kuru over your shoulder to the front, letting it hang before you. He taps your laps and you spread them further. Hands and forearms pressed to the tiles, ass up. He takes your tail and wraps it around your leg, out of his way.

“Perfect,” he hums.

Slowly he stars pressing light kisses to your inner thigh. Up he travels, closer and closer to your apex. But just before reaching your centre, he moves to the other leg, continuing with his worship. All the while his hands gently massage the swell of your ass cheeks.

He stops again just short of your core and you almost whine. He takes both thumbs to either side of your lower lips and spreads you.

You make a startled moan as he does this a few times, pressing your lips together before spreading you, as if to spread your nectar evenly.

“Hmmm…such a pretty pussy all for me. I didn’t think you could grow to be any more beautiful, [Y/N]…” This time you do whine at his words.

He leans forwards and gives you a slow lick to your exposed hole. You inhale sharply at the feeling, immediately becoming slicker at the feeling. Slowly he licks you, up and down, before he moves to your clit and gently sucks.

The noises you make go straight to his hardened cock. He would give anything to be buried deep inside you right the fuck now. But no, first, he owes you this at least. He wants you to come into his mouth, he wants to know what you truly taste like. Wants to know if you taste different with his new body. He removes his mouth from you for but a moment.

“Turn around darling. I wanna see those pretty eyes when I make you come with my mouth,” You turn around, leaning your back to the wall for support.

He wastes no time, mouth back between your legs. But this time, his eyes are on you, and you can’t look away. He spreads your lips again, pressing his nose to your clit, while his tongue rubs along the inside of your entrance.

“Hnnf…Quaritch…” You moan his name, the feeling of his mouth on your cunt sending fire to your core. You feel the build up of an orgasm, pleasure wound tight around your soul.

One hand has you spread open. He brings his other hand up to replace his tongue. He sticks one long finger inside you, gently rubbing your inner walls. Your eyes threatening to close at the feeling.

“Keeps those eyes open, sweetness,” You will yourself to open your eyes, trying your best not to break eye contract. He turns his hand upward, and rubs a soft spongy part of you.

“Aaaahh!” You moan loudly at the feeling of him caressing your g-spot.

“There we go, that’s the spot.” He says and moves to suck your clit. He sticks another finger in, and gently rubs the same spot.

“Yes yes yes please right there! Quaritch! Please don’t stop, don’t you ever stop!” Your mouth hangs open as you moan the words. You can’t stop yourself; a hand moves to grab his short hair, and you press his face harder onto your pussy. His presses his tongue to your clit, caressing it in time with the fingers pumping in and out of you.

“Not on your life, baby.”

You feel your orgasm approaching, hot white pleasure seeming through your veins, wrapping around each nerve ending. An unfamiliar pressure builds along aside it all.

“Quaritch—I’m…I’m gonna—” You can’t get the words out properly.

“Go ahead darling. Cum for me, [Y/N], let me taste you, all of you,”

And when he sticks a third finger in to rub that soft spot, all it takes is one final hard suck to your clit.

The orgasm hits you hard, harder than he’s ever made you cum, harder than you’ve ever made yourself come.

You scream his name as burning pleasure bursts from your cunt, spreading to every part of your body. But the pleasure builds more as he continues to suck, and suddenly you feel like you’re peeing. You are shocked as you squirt clear liquid straight onto his face, there’s so much he doesn’t catch it all in his mouth. You toes curl at the uncontrollable feeling, your body shaking at the overwhelming sensation. Your eyes roll back into your head as you feel yourself orgasm again.

“There it is…That’s my good girl, always knew you could do it,” he praises you, fingers still buried in you. He stands up then, wrapping an arm around your back to help support you. He buries his face in your neck, sucking at your tender flesh. He slowly starts pumping his fingers inside you, you wet squelch of your pussy embarrassing to your ears.

It’s all too much, you’re not ready yet. The pleasure is boarding on painful.

“Hnnnggg…Sto…Quari...hnnff...Aaaahhh!” You can’t formulate whole words, only strangled sounds as your body burns.

“Easy baby, easy does it now.” He removes his fingers from your throbbing core. He lifts you up then, presses your back against the cold tiles, supporting you under your ass. He has one hand on his aching cock at your entrance. Slowly he rubs the tip and down your slit, coating himself in your juices.

“You’re my pretty little instrument to play, [Y/N]; and I plan to write a symphony.” He pushes into you and meets no resistance. A pitched mewl escapes your lips at the new feeling. Never have you ever felt so completely, full. This new body, you knew he’d be big, but it didn’t really register how big he was when you were sucking him off. You only just came, but already you want to cum again on his cock. You walls clench around him at the thought.

“Fuck [Y/N], you’re so tight baby—Perfectly made just for me,” he groans into your ear, but does not move; giving you a moment to adjust to his size. You secure your legs around him, tucking your ankles into the small of his back.

“Please…Please I need to move darling; you’re driving me crazy here…” He begs as he looks into your eyes. You shake your head and it takes all his willpower to not cry in frustration. But he sees you move to grab your queue, holding the tip between you two.

“First…Bond with me, Miles.” His eyes widen when you call him by his first name. His heart swells. “If we bond…know that it is for life. I will never mate with another. There will only be you…There…has only ever been you. Ever since the Dream I… I have only had eyes for you…You are, were, my human. My first love…And…I want you to be my mate...I love you,” You bring one hand up to gently cup the side of his face, gently rubbing his cheek of the stray tear.

“[Y/N]…are…are you, sure? After everything I’ve done, even when I was human…I did a lot of bad things, terrible things…Then after we captured you…Are you sure I’m the kind of man you wanna spend the rest of your life with?”

You giggle at him, wiggling your hips. He sucks in a breath, clenching his jaw.

“It is by Eywa’s will that you are brought back to me. This time, I am not letting you go,” You squeeze your legs tight, forcing him to step forward. The force alone pushes you further up the tiles, the two of you moaning as his dick pushes as far into you as possible. He doesn’t need anymore convincing. He grabs is queue and brings it to yours.

The two of you watch with baited breath as the pink tendrils slowly entwine.

The two of you drop your queues, hands immediately seeking each other as all new sensations course through you.

You feel it, the sensation of being buried deep into your warm centre, and he in turns feels the pleasure of being spread and stuffed by his own dick.

He smashes his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply, passionately. Without warning, he starts pounding into you, unable to control himself any longer.

And you don’t care. You roughly grab the back of his head, deepening the kiss, and he moans into your mouth.

His pace is fast and rough. It feels like his dick moulds itself into the walls of your slick cunt with each thrust deep inside you. You swear you can feel the tip of his cock tease your womb.

This time your orgasm is not slow. It spreads fast like wild fire, burning every nerve in body, setting your core alight with pleasure.

You breathlessly moan into his mouth. He pulls back and bites you in the neck.

“Hnnnnngggg! Miles! Right there! Yes, YES! PLEASE!” You moan at the pain and pleasure, feeling him lick at the bruise forming.

“Tell me! Tell me how good it feels!”

“AAAaaaaaahhh!!!” You can’t respond to his demands, he starts pumping into slower, but harder, grunting each time he bottoms out into you.

“You think I forgot about those shitty brats from your clan? I wonder what they think of you know all grown up, massive fucking tits, these wide hips. Perfect for carrying a baby. Is that what you want, [Y/N]?” You cry at the pleasure assaulting your nerves, his words stroking something deep and primal within you. Never had you ever considered having children, especially since he had been human. But now, with this Na’vi body?

“YES! YES! YES! Please Colonel, stuff me, fuck me, breed me! Cum in me! Put a baby in me! Make me yours!!!”

He chuckles, and the deep bravado of his voice nearly tips you over the edge.

“You were always mine darling. Eywa must’a made you just for me. You’re MINE, you hear me?!” He starts pounding fast again, his pace unrelenting.

“I love you too—I love you I love you—!” he repeats in your ear over and over again. And so the cord snaps, and your orgasm rains on you, pleasure piercing you. Your walls tighten, and the vice grip is all Quaritch needs to finish. He holds himself as close to you as possible, almost painfully into your pelvis bone.

You feel his pleasure through the bond, you hear the guttural sound he makes as he coats your walls with his seed. He rests his head into the crook of neck, breathing heavily. You feel the strain of his muscles as he tries to hold the both of you up.

You untangle yourself to stand, and he welcomes the reprieve.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, and he wraps his around your waist, bringing each other as close as possible. You hold each other like that, with his head in your neck, for a short while. Gently do the two of you sway from side to side to some phantom music.

Eventually though, you start to feel a little uncomfortable being in the hot water this long. He feels this too through the bond, and pulls back, pulling himself from you as he does.

You moan at the feeling of his cum running down your leg. What you don’t expect is him scooping some with his fingers and sticking it back up into your sensitive pussy. You yelp with surprise.

“Don’t waste any darlin’,” he says with a cheeky grin. And he doesn’t stop. He pulls another orgasm from you with just his fingers.

“That’s is baby, just like that…” he whispers into your ear and you squirt all over again.

---

By time you two are actually done in the shower, you cannot stand on your own. Quaritch didn’t mind though, all too happy to dry you and carry you to the bed himself. He towel dries your hair carefully, mindful of the bond yet to be broken.

You help him braid your hair back over your queue. It is a very intimate thing, and he feels your heart swell at the activity.

“So…does this mean we’re married?” He asks as he finishes the bottom of braid. You giggle at him.

“Yes. You are my mate. My partner. My husband,” you smile sweetly as the words leave your lips.

“Hmm…My wife.” He likes the sound of that.

“Yes, husband?”

He looks at you for a second, confused, before he understands. Oh yes, he definitely likes the sound of that.

“Come here you!” He grabs you and you laugh uncontrollably as he squeezes you to him, peppering your neck and face with light kisses.

He pulls you to lie back down on the bed with him, you nestle into his side, arm draped over his broad chest, head resting in the crook of his neck. He puts an arm securely around your waist, his other hand comes to entwine with yours laying over him. Your bond rests protected under your joint hands.

You plant a soft kiss to his neck, and he looks to meet your gaze lovingly.

“I love you, Miles. Oel ngati kameie.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Truly. Deeply. Forever. Oel ngati kameie, [Y/N].”

And you believe him.

---

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who's been following this mini series! Please do leave a comment and share your thoughts with me!

SO! My friend linked me this AI that kind kind of mimic voices if it's learnt off a good enough sample...You best BELIEVE, I attempted to make Quaritch lmaoooo. Anyway enjoy that. It's a bid hard to find balance between sounding close to the original, but also getting it to emote properly!

It's a work in progress ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @lvangel98, @rsclopez, @onlyreadz @manymaria111, @kristeen31xxx @mechformers @olivia-the-weirdo @essenceinpink @villirios

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Aye yo wtf I had this exact problem today! I was editing stuff and JUST so happened to check links and realized they were broken! :/ Fixed now but wtf.

idk but for me every single link in your masterlist isn't working?

Oh no :( anyone else having the same issue??

Tbh I have no idea what to do or how to fix this, they still work for me 😵‍💫

What Do I Tell My Friends Family? Pt. 5

word count: 2661

Pairing: Recom! Miles! Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi! Reader Tags/Warnings: nsfw, SMUT

Author's Note: Shorter chapter this time around! I just wanted to write smut ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) We are coming to the end lovelies!

<previous chapter> | 5 | <next chapter>

Snoring.

The sound slowly pulls you from your slumber. You open your eyes, blinking away the last dregs of sleep. You yawn as you stretch yourself out on your bed. Except, this doesn’t feel like a bed at all. You look up and see the sleeping face of your beloved, he has one arm behind is head, the other you feel on the small of your back. You’re lying on him, using him like a muscled mattress.

You smile to yourself. He is delectably warm.

You snuggle yourself deeper into his chest, gripping his shirt tighter. You feel his arm press you firmer into him, he mumbles something incomprehensible, then continue to snore.

Your mind wonders then to what had transpired earlier. Your stomach drops at the memory of your mother leaving the tent, unable to even look at you. The anxiety burns through you; leaves a gnawing void in the pit of your soul. The longer you lie there, the deeper it grows.

You hate feeling like this; you shouldn’t feel like this. You’re supposed to be happy. Happy to be back with your family, happy to be with the man bound to you by Eywa herself.

You want to forget. Forget everything that happened and just live in blissful ignorance, even just for a moment. Luckily, you know just the person to help you.

You gently turn yourself over, placing your legs on either side of Quaritch, nestling your crotch to his. You hear him take in a sharp breath at the sudden feeling of your heated sex to his, but still he sleeps. You move his hand and place it firmly to your rump. Even in his subconscious he desires you, and so despite being fast asleep, he can’t help but instinctively squeeze. You bite your lip and brace both hands on his broad chest.

You lean forward, purposefully griding yourself against him as you do, eliciting a sleepy moan from him. You start pressing chaste kisses to the soft flesh of his neck. You move from his throat and up to his jaw. You keep planting kisses along his jawline till you reach his mouth. You tilt your head and kiss him gently. You don’t move your lips, but you do again start to grind yourself against him. You can’t help but smirk when you feel his dick twitch against your sex.

Your heart flutters when you feel his lips press firmly against yours, returning the kiss. The velvet of his lips caresses you over and over again. He licks your bottom lip before gently sucking on the tender flesh. You part your lips and invite the intrusion of his tongue. He tastes every inch of your mouth before he tangles himself with you. It is intoxicating, this feeling, almost like drowning. You almost fight yourself when you need to come up for air.

You part yourself from him, but only an inch, your hot breathe mixes with his in the small space. Both of you are breathless, breathing heavily. You look those golden pools, the void of his pupils blown wide. His face is beautifully blanketed by a deep blush.

“Well…that’s one helluva way to wake up…I could get used to this,” he says with laboured breath and a loving smile. You feel the fast beat of his heart under your palms; reassuring and strong. But the tenderness of his expression falters, and it its wake comes concern. His eyes search yours then, a hand placed so tenderly to your temple, as if you would break so easily.

“Not that I’m complaining sweetheart, but…” You know what he wants to ask, but you are in no mood to talk of such things. All you want right now is too feel. You shake your head, stopping him mid-sentence.

“I do not wish to speak of it…Not right now. All I want, is to feel. To forget. Just for a little while…Please?” You grip tightly to the hand cradling you.

The look on your face shatters something deep within him; liquid warmth spreads forth, encapsulating his entire being. He becomes all too aware of his beating heart. And he comes to the conclusion that it only beats for you. He doesn’t deign you with an answer, and instead lets his actions speak for him.

He leans up and kisses you with all the passion from before. Both hands are on you, pulling you back to him. He isn’t gentle this time. His mouth dominates you, scorching you with his desire. You aren’t drowning; you are engulfed in flame.

With a swiftness you did not expect, he switches your positions. He has you caged within his arms, looming just above you. The fierceness of his gaze makes your heart skip, delicious anticipation tingling your every nerve. You may be a skilled hunter, but here trapped under him; you never felt more like prey.

He descends on you without warning; the two of you are a mash of teeth and saliva. He is devouring you. You whimper, unable to control yourself. Your mind thinks only of him. His mouth moves to your neck, sucking and licking at your flesh.

He pushes your legs apart and starts rubbing his hardened member against your clothed sex. The muted stimulation to your clit sends small jolts of pleasure through you, causing you to moan through parted lips. He pulls up your tank top, exposing your breasts to the cool air. He brings the bundled shirt to your mouth and tells you to bite down.

“Don’t want anyone else hearing those pretty sounds you make darling. Don’t exactly know how soundproof these things are.”

You nod and grip at the fabric with clenched teeth. You yourself aren’t sure either how reliably these walls will contain your moans.

His mouth is back to assaulting your neck, and you breath deep through your nose, trying your best to be quieter. His hand wastes no time in grabbing your breast, roughly kneading you.

“Hmmmmrph!” The shirt does little to muffle your moan at his ministrations. He moves his hand and rubs his thumb over your nipple, causing you to arch your back. He takes it between his forefinger and thumb, gently rolling your bud to a peak. You feel yourself slicken even further.

You press your feet firmly to the ground and tilt your pelvis upward so his clothed dick hits you just right. It only takes a few more hits to your clit for your orgasm to wash over you. The cord snaps and the wave of pleasure hits you from your swollen clit, spreading out and tingling every part of your being.

“That’s my girl, you’re doing so well baby,” he whispers into your ear when feels your body tense as you ride your orgasm.

You feel your pussy clench around nothing, groaning deep as he keeps rubbing against you.

He takes the shirt from your mouth, now drenched with your spit. Before you can even relax he grabs your mouth with his hand and forces your lips apart. He’s on you again, forcing his tongue inside. You yelp with surprise but don’t fight; all too eager to make out with him any chance you get.

He lifts himself up to gaze down at you, giving you one hard thrust into your core. The action causes you to bite you lip.

“You didn’t think we were done, did you? I’m only just getting started…”

---

Your mind is an addled mess; the ability to form a single coherent thought lessening with each orgasm he pulls from you.

You’re approaching your fifth, you think. He has you on your back, one arm wound behind you, his hand holds firm to your breast and he fondles you, deft fingers teasing your perked nipple. Each flick and pinch sends pleasurable bolts down your spine.

His mouth is to your ear, whispering the most delicious filth to you. He licks and nips between words, earning him a melody of whines and whimpers. Your leg closest to him is bent at the knee, trapped behind his own as he bends you open further; utterly at his mercy.

And his hand; that dextrous tool of your destruction. He has 3 long fingers deep in you, his palm pressed flat to your clit. Up and down he pumps, stimulating the soft spongy flesh within while your bundle of nerves is rubbed vigorously against his smooth skin.

He can’t believe how utterly drenched you are; he’s sure he could almost fit his entire hand in you right now. You’ve all but made a pool of irresistible nectar at your core. So lubricated are you, Quaritch wonders if outsiders can hear the filthy squelch of your pussy as he works his fingers into your sex. You are far from caring at this point, your mind is but focused on one thing; coming all over this man’s fingers.

You feel it building fast, that tight pressure somewhere deep beyond your cunt. Your walls start to clench as the pleasure builds, closer and closer you sprint to that edge. The pleasure is bordering on painful; you aren’t even sure if you can even withstand one more. Fat tears roll down your face, you whimper and moan; conflicted as you are pulled in opposite directions.

‘I—I can’t! Please! I—I don’t—' You try so very hard to get the words out, but what comes out of your mouth is simply unintelligible nonsense under breathless moans and whines. But he understands, Eywa bless this man. Unfortunately for you, he cares not for your protests; believing you are capable of just. One. More.

“Come on baby just one more, I know you got it in you. Just give me one more, that’s all I’m askin’ for sweetheart. You’re my good little girl aren’t you? You’ll do just as your mate asks; won’t you?”

You growl low in your throat, desperate to please him. You bite hard on your lip, the taste of blood dancing on your tongue. For him. You’ll do it for him; even if you go mad.

You feel his fingers quicken their pace, his palm brutally massaging your clit. He is unrelenting in his search for that final explosion of pleasure. Faster and faster the pleasure builds along with the pain. Your walls are swollen, pussy almost burning to the touch. It only takes a few more rubs against that soft flesh for you to orgasm; you cum the hardest this time.

You groan in pain and pleasure through gritted teeth, drool seeping from the corners of your mouth as you try not to scream out at the top of your lungs. But it is a losing battle. You go to open your mouth but he is on you, swallowing your screams with a bruising kiss.

The walls of your pussy clench around his fingers like a vice, massaging him as though to milk him for every last drop of his seed. But the high doesn’t stop. It builds more; until you feel ourself expel all over his hands, your legs. Quaritch quickly removes his fingers and starts slapping your hypersensitive clit, a victorious smirk spreads on his face as he watches you squirt all over yourself and him.

“There you go sweetheart…that’s it, that’s my good girl,” he kisses away your tears. All you can do is cry; the pleasure is far too overwhelming and all you want is a little reprieve.

Your head lulls to the side, mouth agape as you drool. You’re far too tired to even think. And so you just lie there; mind blank, the only thing your hyper aware of is the deep thrumming of your clit and pussy as it aches; utterly abused and throbbing.

Your mate’s heavy breathing behind you pulls your attention; ears perking up at the sound. Still flat on your back, you turn your head to him. Your walls clench at the sight of him. He has his cock in his hand, leisurely pumping himself with one hand, the tip already leaking precum.

It then dawns on you that through out this whole endeavour, he probably hasn’t come once. You feel guilty, and try to reach for him, but grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles instead. You whine in protest.

“Ssshhh, it’s alright baby. I won’t take long, trust me,” he winks at you, licking his lips and he squeezes himself harder.

But you’re having none of it; if he’s cumming, it’d better be deep inside you; painting your walls with his seed.

You take your hand from his, causing his pace to slow, confused by your retreat. With great effort you push yourself up onto your shoulders, and glare at him as best you can.

“You…if you don’t finish inside me…Then I swear by Eywa I’ll end you my damn self…Now get over here.” He immediately stops his hand, staring at you shocked. But it’s gone in an instead, and he huffs out a laugh and fixes you with half lidden eyes and a smirk.

“As my mate commands.”

You let yourself lay back down as he quickly moves over you. Once he’s between your legs you trap him there, locking your feet together.

“Hmm, serious are we?”

“Hurry up and fuck me Miles…”

“Ohhh I love it when you talk dirty, darling,” he steals your breath with a passionate kiss, one you’re all to happy to return. You move your queue between the two of you. He does the same when he sees your movement. When the bond links into place, your eyes roll to the back of your head. You’re filled with his aching need for you; overwhelmed by the desire to be fucked all over again.

“Fuck…” Is all he can groan out, resting his head to yours. He nearly cums then and there, feeling your body so tired and sore, yet still pleasure dances across your skin and deep at your centre.

He pushes himself into you with one hard thrust. He meets no resistance, the soft smooth flesh of your cunt sucks him in, accepting him in full splendour.

You sigh deep, only now realising that this was what missing; being completely full and stretched. He doesn’t let you catch your breath, immediately pounding into you with reckless abandon. It thrust brings him to the base, his cock stretching you to the limit, moulding your soft spongy walls around him.

You hands seek purchase on his back, nails digging into the flesh and you claw him; leaving bloody trails in their path. He growls then, followed by a guttural moan. The deep baritone of his voice makes your pussy clench.

“Fuck, [Y/N], just like that! My perfect mate, my perfect girl! You take me so well baby…You were made for taking this cock weren’t you?”

Renewed tears stream down your face as your mind becomes flooded with the pleasure of the bond. It only takes a few more powerful thrusts before Quaritch cums inside you with a low growl into your ear. The feeling him his hot seed being spilt inside you causes another orgasm to wrack your body. You are thankful it’s at least a lot gentler than the last.

Quaritch hums and kisses your neck when he feels your walls clench around him, the sound of your breath catching doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Aww, another one just for me? You’re too kind princess.” He plants a kiss to the corner of your mouth before he flops down beside you, completely spent.

With his remaining strength he pulls you to him. You cuddle yourself against his side, resting your head upon his chest, leg thrown over his mid. His hand comes to rest on your thigh, lazily drawing shapes onto your skin.

“I love you, Miles…thank you…”

“I love you too, [Y/N].” He kisses to top of your head.

The last thing you remember is wrapping your tail around his before sleep claims you once more.

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Tag list: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @lvangel98, @rsclopez, @onlyreadz @manymaria111, @kristeen31xxx @mechformers @olivia-the-weirdo @essenceinpink @villirios @rededfoxy @brutecuteness @perseny @fandom-garbage @ttreader @hihhasotherfixations @angel-of-silver369 @royallaufeyson @saltedcoffeescotch @the-hufflebird-girl

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<previous chapter> | 5 | <next chapter>

The Lie of Providence - Chapter 5 - Paths

word count: 2698

Pairing: Recom Miles Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi Reader Tags/Warnings: family bonding

“blue text” is spoken Na'vi. ‘Italics’ are thoughts.

[previous chapter] | 5 | [next chapter]

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

When you and father return to the village, you find Mo’at already awake and preparing for her duties of the day.

“Mo’at, I must speak with you urgently.” Jake addresses her almost immediately.

“Good morning to you too ma Jake, ma [Y/N].” She chides him playfully, unawares of how serious he is. You greet her softly.

“Good morning Grandmother…” Her focus is immediately on you. She studies your face; that downcast gaze, the faint streaks left by tears.

“Come.” She commands and you two follow her into an unoccupied healer tent. She gestures you two to sit and she secures the entrance closed.

“Speak of your troubles.”

Once again you go through the motions of your nightmare. Again your tongue is held steadfast against mentions of the Human. You do not cry this time, far too drained now. When you are finished speaking you exhale deeply. Grandmother is quiet as she sits in front of you, studying you. Your father nervously shifts his gaze from you to her and back. He opens his mouth to speak but she swiftly lifts a hand to silence him, gaze never faltering from you.

Without a word she rises from her spot and swiftly leaves the tent. You look to your father confused, but he merely shrugs; equally baffled. Quickly she returns though, bringing with her a bowls, tools, and a satchel no doubt filled with various powders and plants.

She works without uttering a single word. She alights the small fire pit in the center of the tent space. You welcome the gentle heat as it washes away the morning chill. Your father moves to sit closer to you, putting a comforting arm around your shoulder as the two of you watch Mo’at work.

You watch with keen interest as she grinds dried plants into fine powders, quietly chanting as she does. She pulls the bone from her necklace and holds out her free hand expectantly to you. You understand immediately and offer a hand. She pricks a finger, putting a drop of your blood into her concoction. She grabs a handful of the powder and throws it upon the fire.

The flames roar to life suddenly, a dazzling dance of reds and purples awash the tent. You look at your arms and marvel as the colours are reflected perfectly in your pale tones. You wonder if other colours would dance so wonderfully on your skin too. Mo’at’s prayers are louder now as she gestures this way and that, a dance known only to her as Tsahik. Suddenly the fire burns dark red, bolder than fire should be, and immediately dies without warning. Mo’at gasps and inhales deeply.

She sits back on her haunches, hands folded in her lap.

“The Great Mother has spoken. She speaks of fire and brimstone. Of great shadows darkening the sky. The seas painted red with spilt blood. Of villages burning, our people dying. Of betrayal, vengeance, wrath…”

She looks up from the dead flames to meet your eyes.

“She speaks of you. A warning. Many paths lay before you. She did not reveal them to me. Only that you must choose the right one.”

You gulp. All of that sounded more ominous than helpful. In fact, the right path? What does that even mean? How are you supposed to know? What if you choose wrong? What then? Will you be the reason people die and villages burn?? Your suddenly filled with anxiety, such thoughts becoming too taxing for a 12-year-old girl.

“Hey Mo’at that’s enough! You’re scaring her!” Your father yells when he notices your laboured breath. There words become heated but you do not hear. Static fills your ears as you stare at your open palms.

You’re suddenly filled with a desire to see the Human. That cold gruff man. He’s been a constant in your life for many years now. Oh, you left him on that cliff. You hope he finds his way back to the waking world or where ever he comes from.

And before any of you realise it, you unwillingly fall into the embrace of darkness.

---

Miles Quaritch considers himself a sensible sort. Tough on his men, tougher on his opponents. Values loyalty above all else. Does not question authority, and does himself expect not to be questioned. That first day on Pandora, she made one thing very clear; this is not your home, and you do not make the rules here.

He wears his scars proudly, a reminder of what’s out there. Not just the animals and plants, but those savages too. Anything with a pulse is trying to kill you. Anything without a pulse can kill you too. But they have a job to do. Orders are orders and one way or another, they are going to get to that damn deposit of unobtainium.

The Avatar Program. What a fucking joke. Waste of time as far as he is concerned. Would be easier just to smoke out all the natives by force and blow the damn tree up. Minimal casualties of course, but such things are unavoidable. He suddenly wonders if you live in that big tree.

Urgh. He hates that he suddenly thought of you. Some native kid inhabiting a dream. He doesn’t like the lucid dreams. They feel far too real for his liking. He’d really like Jake to hurry the fuck up so he can be done with this planet and be on the next shuttle outta here. He can’t help his mind however, recalling the first time he had seen you. Jesus Christ you scared the shit outta him, looking like a damn ghost what with that pale skin and all. Turns out you were just a bratty kid who followed him everytime he dreamt these past few months.

He wonders then though, if his mind was playing tricks on him last time he dreamt of you. You looked, almost bigger? He’s not sure anymore. The low gravity of this planet must be fucking with his head and he can’t stand it. He sighs as he rubs a hand down his face. He’d love nothing more than to leave right now. Paz looks ready to pop anytime soon and he’d prefer if the boy was born on his real home planet, not this God forsaken moon. This was no place to raise a son.

Although he and Paz weren’t in a relationship per say, he knows he needs to do right by her and their son. So begrudgingly here he stays, following through with orders to the best of his ability, to ensure a future for his son, and to ensure he has a home to go back to once this is all over.

---

 Months pass and yet still you do not return to the shared dream. For this you are grateful as you have yet to experience another nightmare. You would be saddened to have not seen your human companion were this not the norm though; to go so long without another shared dream.

It might even take another year before he makes an appearance. But that is a worry for future you. Present day you has thought long and hard about Eywa’s less than straight forward answers. But as luck would have it, you have come up with a sort of plan.

As you recall, Eywa spoke of many paths to be laid before you, choosing the right one a crucial step toward the future. You wondered then, if perhaps this was hence tied to your future place in the clan; something not yet set in stone either.

Being the first born of Olo'eyktan, you had many choices in your future role to the clan, Leader of course being one of them. Alternatively, you could tutelage under Grandmother to become future Tsahik. This was once your mother’s destiny, but the war with the Sky People passed lead her instead down the path of the Warrior, to which she has since thrived. She is a remarkable huntress too, and you would be honoured to learn from her; another path you could choose.

There were also the Gatherers, experts in cultivating the land and foraging, making sure to take only what is needed to never upset the great balance. You could study craftmanship – becoming an expert in textiles, or one day having the privilege of using the Mother Loom. You could become a Clan Singer, studying under Ninat and learning the songs to bring joy around the cooking fires, or the prayers that are sung to honour the dead.

With so many ways you could fit into the clan, your genius idea was then to do it all.

Oh yes. You were going to study everything. Every last job afforded to you, you would give everything that you are and then some. Surely there could be no wrong path if you took EVERY path!

With this in mind you approach your parents and grandparent with the idea. Mo’at is apprehensive, becoming Tsakarem was a life long commitment. But as it would stand she doesn’t currently have anyone under her tutelage, so she relents. She places a condition though; were she to see a sign from Eywa regarding your future as Tsahik, she would end the training were it not to please the Great Mother. You agree wholeheartedly.

And so begins your training under dearest Grandmother.

And by the Great Mother is it exhausting. But equally as exhilarating. There is a thought in the back of your mind too, that if you can become one who interprets the Will of Eywa, there is the chance that your own future, and the dreams that may yet lie within, could become clearer to you. You could gain a better understanding of it all. Maybe.

Every morning then, you awaken before majority of the clan, and listen dutifully as Mo’at explains everything she does, and the reasons therein. She speaks of Eywa’s influence in the world around you, look for signs, the things others may not yet see. How she interprets these things. The rites that a Tsahik must perform for her people, the plants you use, the painting patterns, which paints to use and the colours and their meanings. There is even order in the burning powders for rituals and rites alike. It is a lot to take in. But you drink it up as though you are starved.

And when the sun approaches its zenith, you spend your time with Mother, she teaches you the ways of hunting. How to track the great beasts of Pandora, how to stealth through the forest but leave no trace behind. She begins teaching you to use a bow, and you and her are surprised to find you are remarkably proficient. She praises you greatly, and the two of you laugh over stories of how much she struggled to teach your father the very same weapon.

When the sun first kisses the horizon, you then spend time with Ninat, learning how to control your voice. Breathing exercise. How to hold notes and expanding your range. She tells you that you have a good voice, and will no doubt sing beautifully with time; if your own mother’s voice is anything to go by. With that in mind, you practice your singing in the evenings when Neytiri sings her personal songcord.

Your days are never the same though. Though each morning will always be spent with Tsahik, some afternoons you spend with father, he appoints himself to teach you the way of the Warrior. How to fight. And more importantly, how to wield a knife. Though he’s not ready to give you a proper blade yet, you are given a blunt wooden carving of one. Technique is of the most importance. The stances and body movements he teaches you, are Human techniques.

He appoints Tarsem, a young but extremely wise Warrior to teach you the native style of the clan. He hopes a broaden fighting style with multiple perspectives will keep you that much safer in the future.

Other evenings are spent with some of the Gatherers as they prepare food for the clan with the Hunters. You learn how to carve meat from bone, which parts of animals are for eating, the rest for healing or craftsmanship. There are some days where you join them out the forest, learning which plants are safe and which to avoid wholeheartedly. Which herbs mix well together, and which when combined make absolute and utter chaos.

The only downside to this sudden busy schedule, is you find yourself with far less time than before to spend with your siblings. It weighs heavy on your heart; especially when you have to refuse their offers to play when you have lessons.

You do the best you can to make time here and there. You are free though, well after the evening meal, when the sky is dark and full of stars. You sit with them and tell them stories of your day, the struggles of your training, the joys of doing things right. There is a big smile that spreads upon your face, ear to ear, as you regale them, almost nary stopping to breathe.

Then there are your days of Rest. One must allow oneself to replenish the energy that is borrowed from Eywa. These are the days you visit Hells Gate to spend time with Uncle Norm and Max catching up on your goings on. Spider is of course there too, eating up everything you see, wishing he too could be a part of your training.  By the Great Mother if you somehow become Clan Leader you will make sure he becomes an official member, and anyone who disagrees will answer to you.

---

2 Years pass. You are 15 now, almost a young adult. Your training still continues, though only to hone your skills. One development however, is that at some point you ceased your training as future Tsahik. Instead, Mo’at has appointed Kiri to be her new Tsakarem. And at 11 years old Kiri is more than excited. Any chance she can commune with the Great Mother she takes it. It means she get so communicate with her Birth Mother, Grace; a surprising thing to learn.

Your parents had waited until the older children, everyone except Tuk, were old enough to understand the story. How they found Grace’s avatar body pregnant without explanation, in its stasis pod. And how Kiri came into the world a little miracle, one they graciously took into their family to raise as their own. Now Kiri sometimes visits Hells Gate with Lo’ak in tow, the two of them growing closer to Spider as the years passed. But also it gives her a chance to see her other Mother, to watch videos of her talking about her love for Eywa and this world.

---

Hold your breath. Steady aim. Do not pull too tightly. Exhale on release. No sudden movements. Aim carefully and—the yerik just so happens to look up and immediately spots you, instantly scurrying off before you can let loose an arrow.

You cuss, growly in frustration of it all. This is not the first time something like this has happened. You are sure of it now. Being this pale against the backdrop of the forest’s deep greens and blues, you must stand out something fierce.

“Calm, [Y/N]. These things happen.” Your mother says and puts a comforting hand upon your shoulder.

“Sorry. I know. It’s just—incredibly frustrating.”

“What is, my sweet atokirina?”

You gesture vaguely up and down your whole body.

“This. This is. It makes me stand out. I can’t hunt like this Mama. They see me so fast…”

“Then we must try other techniques. From higher in the trees, or—”

“It’s not just the animals Mother…”

The words slip out before you even think. Damn. This wasn’t something you wanted to necessarily talk about. At least not yet. It was awkward. It was uncomfortable. And most of all, heart breaking. Neytiri scowls, not liking the implication behind those words.

“What do you mean, [Y/N]?”

You sigh deeply. ‘Eywa give me strength’. And so you decide to tell your mother, about your first heartbreak.

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A/N: Once again I'd like to give thanks to everyone that has liked and or reblogged this story. It really means a lot and is great motivation to keep going! I know you all must be frothing for the promised quaritch x reader content and I thank you for your patience. I promise it is coming! I just really wanted to get some world building in there; really delve into you as the reader and where you come from. I am eager to hear your thoughts. Let me know how ya'll feel about pacing and whatever else have you!

Also once again I apologies for any grammatical errors.

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Tag List: @mynameisbaby9 @nissilou @d4rno @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @perseny

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i met u yesterday n ily with all my heart now, thanks for giving me serotonin xo 😻💗😽

TYSVM YOU PRECIOUS BEAN <3

Us Quaritch fans looking at Spider:

me going to bed every night after reading the most nasty, sheet gripping, toe curling, filthiest smut about a blue fictional alien

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