how would the recoms react to their fem recom s/o wanting them to ✨️casually✨️ rub their clit that leads to maybe some mutual touching/masturbation 👀
Hello! Yes, I'll be posting oneshots based on this prompt! Will do one for Miles, Lyle, Mansk, and ZDog! Miles' will be posted shorty!
*update* - First one posted! Will add links here as the fics are published!
Miles Quaritch
Lyle Wainfleet
Mansk
ZDog
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.
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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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Pairing: Human/Recom/Navi Miles Quaritch x Female! Na'vi! Sully! Reader Tags/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, rare pairing, possibly dark content, smut, adult themes, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, lust, older man x younger woman, under age reader (16), degradation, nsfw, dubious consent, dirty talk, orgasm, orgasm denial, foul language, choking, vaginal fucking - each chapter will have it's own tags
Author's Notes: Am I going crazy? I can't find the masterlist for this fic so I'm making a new one. Seems like it just *POOF* disappeared! Someone let me know if I'm just blind >_>
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
--- Tags: @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
word count: 3745
Pairing: Recom Miles Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi Reader Tags/Warnings: hurt, anger, no comfort, bullying, dysmorphia, lots of crying
Author's Note: And we're back! Sorry this took soooo long to come out! Haha, totally got distracted by WDITMF ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Anyway apologies for any grammatical errors as usual!
“blue text” is spoken Na'vi.
‘Italics’ are thoughts.
iortsyal = a pandorian butterfly
[previous chapter] | 6 | [next chapter]
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You remember it quite clearly.
You were 14 then, and it happened so unexpectedly. Tarsem has taken 3 other teenagers, boys them all, under his tutelage as future hunters and warriors.
From the beginning you could tell these 3 were a close nit group, perhaps friends since their younger years. Rokan (15) is the leader, whilst Ru’ak (14) and Teka (14), the twins, were his little followers.
They paid you no mind, as far as you can tell; just another trainee they only saw when they spent time with Tarsem.
A spar was called between you and Rokan, Tarsem wanting to assess both of your progress thus far.
Late in the afternoon, the group found a small clearing, you and Rokan front and centre, the twins somewhere behind Tarsem off to the side.
You readied yourself; low crouch, find your centre, just like father taught you. Rokan stands tall, starts walking to the side as if to circle you. You mimic his movements, making sure to keep him in front of your line of sight.
However this is what he had wanted, had predicted. When he felt the sun kiss his bare back, he rushed you without warning. You squinted as the sun assaulted your sensitive eyes. But that wasn’t what you were paying attention to, no.
You stared only ahead at the figure coming at you. Drenched in gold, you think you have never seen such ethereal beauty. The evening light explodes behind him as he approaches, casting his front in shadow. You feel the rapid pounding of your heart, the quickness of your breath.
He is on you before you can even blink. Tackled to the ground, he pins you and you flail wildly, trying to free yourself, but it is of little use.
“Enough. Separate.” Tarsem calls from the side lines. Rokan obeys without question, the twins hollering his praises. You sit up and watch his retreating back as he makes his way over to them. ‘Was he always that athletic?’ the thought catches you so completely off-guard you let out a quiet ‘eep’! Covering your mouth, you get up in a rush and move to your side. You don’t see the quick glance Rokan does behind himself to look at you.
A few more matches, and a few more pins to the ground, Tarsem calls it. 8 matches, 8 losses. Rokan is full to the brim with pride. He has beaten Tarsem’s star pupil, firstborn of the Olo'eyktan, and he couldn’t be happier.
Tarsem sends the 3 boys off. They eagerly scurry away, playfully pushing each other, arms wrapped around each other’s neck in brotherly fashion. You watch them, envious almost. Yes, you do have the friendship and comfort of your many siblings; but there some times when, you wish you too had friends closer to your age. Boy or girl, it didn’t matter to you.
“[Y/N].” Tarsem addresses you, pulling your attention from the boys.
“Yes???” You respond, flustered at being caught staring.
“You were distracted today.”
You’re not sure if he’s making a statement or asking you.
“Yes, Tarsem. I…apologise. It will not happen again.” He has his arms crossed and nods at you, waving you off for the evening.
You bid him farewell and begin the trek to your next lesson.
“He is a very handsome young man though.” Tarsem calls from behind you. You stop dead and turn to face him, face flushed red, mouth agape in horror. Tarsem only smiles widely trying his best to stifle a laugh. You hasten your retreat to a full-on sprint, all the while you can hear Tarsem’s laugh slowly fading behind you.
---
Ok.
So you think he’s cute.
Handsome even.
Big deal.
So what???
No really. So what?
You have no idea what to do with this information. It’s not as if you’re overflowing with spare time to pursue, whatever this is. A silly crush. Nothing more. But this was the first time you’ve ever experienced romantic feelings in any capacity.
As a result, you unfortunately start noticing him around the village more. You wonder if he often frequented the same areas as you. Did you perhaps never notice until now?
He never approaches you, nor do the twins. Always does he simply greet you with a smirk and quick gesture of the hand. By Eywa, that smile. That damned smile. You feel heat rush up your neck to your cheeks every accursed time. How embarrassing.
A few weeks pass, and something most unexpectedly happens.
He does in fact, approach you.
“[Y/N]!” He waves you down, jogging up to you, the other two not far behind.
“Ro-Rokan! Ru’ak and Teko too. What can I do for you three?”
“Are you free right now? We’re about to head out into the forest, and wanted to know if you wanna join us?”
“M-me?” You curse yourself for stammering in front of him.
“Of course! We’re all warriors in training together. Makes sense to me that we should get to know each other a little better, don’t you agree?”
Your heart feels as though it’s doing flips against your ribcage. You inwardly squeal with joy. As luck would have it, this was your day of rest, so you indeed had free time!
“Y-yes of course! I’d be happy to!” You fondly smile upward to the taller boy, brimming with excitement.
You had remained cordial with the other teens of the clan around your age, but you’ve never actually hung out with any of them. This was your chance to amend that, and actually make friends outside the family. That thought alone has iortsyal fluttering in your stomach.
---
The three of you stop at the edge of the village. Rokan teases you with a smirk, challenging you to keep up. Your heart skips, and you feel heat on your cheeks.
He doesn’t wait for you to respond and immediately rushes off into the forest. You don’t think twice before you’re immediately on his trail, the twins keep pace behind you.
You barely register the world around you, relying solely on your instincts to guide you forward. Your eyes are fixed to the azure back just a few branches ahead of you. You become hypnotised by the lean muscle, and swallow thickly as a sheen slowly spreads upon his broad back.
You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of these thoughts before they fall into depravity. You can’t afford to be distracted, not out here at least. The forest is dangerous if you are caught unawares. With renewed focus, you push yourself harder, urging yourself to go faster. You feel the fire of your muscles burning, the ache of your pounding heart, but you relish in the feeling; it is a reminder of your strength, of your training, of being alive.
Up ahead, the spaces between the last tree and the next is too large to clear with a jump, but their branches connect in a bend to the left. You see Rokan veer to the side, taking the safe part. He is still a little ways ahead of you.
You look at the drop, contemplating the odds of you making the jump. It is then you notice the thick vines dangling in the empty space. You smirk to yourself and move even faster than you thought yourself capable of.
You don’t hear the twins both yell out to you as you launch yourself forward, hand outstretched. Your eyes briefly meet Rokan’s as you look to your left. His widen in shock as he watches you fly through the air. Your hands meets vine, and you grab with all your might.
You use the momentum of your flight to propel yourself forward to another vine, repeating the motion once again, before you launch yourself at the flattened branches of the tree ahead. You lurch forwards, coming into a roll as you land. The momentum pushes you forward, and you are instantly back into a sprint.
One quick glance behind and you see Rokan’s shocked face as he just finishes the detour. You don’t even see the twins. You laugh loud and breathlessly, yelling out to them to keep up and to stop being so low. You refuse to wipe the smile off your face as you continue forward. You’re not sure when last you had this much fun. It felt different from when you play with your siblings. There was just something about being around people your own age. Your heart swells with an unknown feeling, and it only makes you smile wider.
From the vantage point in the trees, you can see a large body of water in the distance. It is framed by a cliff side with a waterfall. The darkness of its colour lend credence to its depths. If this was the direction Rokan was going, then it stands to reason that this plunge pool was surely the destination.
You run along the thin branch stretching over the water, and dive down, head first, without hesitation.
In the blink of an eye you’re surrounded by the biting cold of water. You make it half way to the bottom of the pool, before you change direction and start swimming to the top. You breach the surface, taking one big gulp as you make your way to the nearest edge. You pull yourself out, flopping onto your back with a heavy thud. Your eyes are unfocused as you lay there, staring up into the canopy. Your breathing is laborious, and every muscle aches something fierce.
It doesn’t stop the giggle that bubbles up inside you; bursting forth in a cacophony of laughter. You let out a triumphant howl, pumping your firsts into the air victoriously.
---
Rokan sees the gap approaching, and knows he can’t make that jump. He sees the side path, and takes it. He’s almost half way when he hears the twins yelling your name somewhere behind him. He looks to his right and is completely stunned by what he sees.
Your silvery form soars through the sky, arm outstretched. His eyes meet yours for the briefest of moments, before you look forward once again. There is a falter to his step as he watches you clear the gap by swinging on the vines. You’re so far ahead now. He sees you look back once he makes it back to the path. He barely makes out your laughter and the tease you throw to the wind for them to keep up.
He stops dead in his tracks.
The twins finally catch up, you’re naught but a white smudge in the distance against the dark greens of the forest.
“This is far enough.” He tells the twins, holding out his arm to stop them from advancing. They stand there silently, the only sound their laboured breaths. Rokan lets out an amused huff as he sees you disappear when you take the dive.
“Heh…Unbelievable.” He shakes his head. He stares at where you once were for but a moment longer, before turning back and making his way toward the village.
“Let’s go.” The twins nod and follow him without question.
---
Ten minutes pass; it instead feels something akin to an hour. Anxiety weaves it way into you, deep into the pit of your stomach. There was no sound of bodies hitting water. No laughter from rambunctious boys catching up to you.
You sit on your knees beside the water, soaked, hands clenched tight. Your body starts shaking involuntarily.
At first, you thought perhaps they were afraid to dive, and were searching for a safer way down. But as each minute passed by, the truth became clearer.
They had left you. For reasons you have yet to conjure, they had abandoned you here. You fight the quiver of your lip as tears sting your eyes. But as you are now, you are powerless. You fall to your sudden grief, letting out a straggled cry as tears flow free. You wrap your arms around yourself as you weep.
You are cut deep by unpleasant emotions. These are feelings you are unaccustomed to.
Why did they leave you?
Did you do something to offend them?
What were they thinking?
Did they even want to hang out with you in the first place?
Was this their plan all along?
Were they ever intending to be your friend?
Questions like this flood your mind, drowning you in a sudden wave of self-doubt. You let loose a scream until your throat burns.
---
Time passes, and your tears eventually dry. You look at your reflection in the water, and nearly recoil. Your face is red, eyes puffy, angry streaks of dried tears paint your cheeks. You stare intently at yourself then, taking in the golden threads of your braids, and the starlit white of your skin.
You wonder then, if things would have played out differently, had you been born normal looking.
You frown, clenching your teeth as you feel anger slowly start to burn within. You swat away the image angrily, wildly splashing the water about.
It was no secret to you, that you were born different. But it never bothered you. Your family treated you no different from your siblings, and by Eywa neither did any of the Sky People.
So why now? Why them?
…Were they the only ones?
You shake your head, pulling yourself from yet venturing down that train of thought. You take a moment to wash your face. The cool water helps ground you, calming you. You drink deep, sighing contently.
You pull yourself to your feet, and take stock of where exactly you are. You observe your surroundings, trying to find familiarity with the Great Mother’s design. But none of the surrounding area invokes any sort of recognition. You look up into the canopy, and you can vaguely make out the thin branch you dove from. It would seem, the only way back to that tree would be to scale the waterfall. Wonderful.
You sigh in defeat, but nonetheless make your way around the pool to some outcroppings you can scale.
The climb would not normally wind you, but your body still aches from the strain of your sprinting prior. Your mind still reels, broiled in anger from everything that has transpired.
With an angry grunt, you hoist yourself up to the top of the cliff.
You look up from your crouched position, and freeze.
All of your anger, all of your sadness, every turbulent emotion, is rend from your body.
You mind goes blank, mouth suddenly dry, mind blank.
You do not blink.
Drinking from the stream, nought but a few feet away, is a palulukan.
An adult palulukan.
The creatures ears are pointed toward you. It clearly heard you, but did not turn its head to regard you, instead choosing to finish its drink.
There is a lump in your throat, but you are too shaken to even swallow. Fear overwhelms you, and you are unable to move. To run. You know you should let the fear pass over and through you. But repeating mantras was not the same as putting it into practice.
You curse those boys, but most of all, you curse yourself. You should have paid attention. You should have known better. Had you been smarter, more aware, maybe you would have noticed you were running straight into palulukan territory. Your mind is too frazzled to even send silent prayers to the Great Mother.
You don’t even have any of your decent weaponry on you. Fuck.
The creature finishes its drink, and licks it lips before turning its head in your direction.
But when your eyes meet, something strange happens. You expect the creature to growl lowly, lower its stance, as if ready to pounce.
Instead, once your eyes meet, it freezes.
You barely have time to make a confused face, before the palulukan lets out the most terrifying roar you have ever heard.
But it is not the roar of an apex predator warning prey to run.
This was something of fear.
It snarls and bares its fangs, banging its front paws into ground as it roars at you again. But it never moves closer, staying exactly where it was. Still you are frightened by its very visage.
You flinch.
With swiftness you wish you possessed, the creature suddenly turns and sprints off deeper into the forest.
You sit stock still as you listen to its fading footfalls.
‘What was that?’
‘By the Great Mother, what the fuck was that?!’
You bring your hands up to your face, and realise you are shaking. Adrenaline still courses through your veins. You launch yourself up, and sprint in the opposite direction of where the beast ran.
You dare not turn around.
---
You make it back to village, but you are far from unscathed.
Small cuts mar your skin. In your haste to escape, you became carless; tripping and tumbling over yourself. Your lucky your hands and feet remain clear, but the same cannot be said for your arms and legs. The adrenaline stops you from feeling any pain.
You stop yourself once you make it into the village, bracing yourself on a nearby tree. You fall to your knees, huffing and puffing. You hand clenches your chest as you desperately try to calm your beating heart; it feels as though it will burst forth from your chest.
“Well, look who made it back! Took you long enough, freak.”
You feel yourself go rigid. The voice beside you, addressing you, belongs to none other than Rokan. You don’t move to look at him. Not that it matters. He instead moves to be in your line of sight. You force yourself to look up and at him. He’s smirking down at you, arms crossed over his chest. You vaguely register the twins standing behind him, crouching to be at your level. They’re quietly laughing as they point at you, whispering to each other.
You struggle with all your might to stand up straight, using the tree as leverage. But your legs are threatening to give out, and you painfully slump back against the tree with a pained grunt.
The boys laugh at you.
His words slice into you. But it is not the clean cut of a swift blade. This is serrated, cutting into you slowly with meaningful precision.
“You really are pathetic, you know that? I can’t believe Eywa cursed Toruk Makto. I’m honestly surprised you even made it back alive right now. How stupid were you to not even notice where we were running, hm?”
“Oh well, and here I thought I could be rid of you…”
“W-why…? I haven’t done…anything…to you…” Getting the words out is laborious as you desperately try to catch your breath.
“Pfft! Why? Is this skxáwng serious?” He playfully nudges one of the boys beside him.
“Let me clue you in on a little secret, freak. We don’t like you—I don’t like you! And did you think I wouldn’t notice? The way you look at me? Disgusting. As if I would ever be interested in a freak.”
You flinch at his words, and cast you gaze downward; too ashamed to meet his eyes.
“Did you really think because you were the daughter of Olo'eyktan, of Toruk Makto, that it made you special? Look at yourself! Your Sky People hair. That pale skin. You will never be true Na’vi. Face it, [Y/N]…Eywa cursed you. Honestly, I was doing the clan a favour by leaving you there.”
You don’t think you’ve ever heard your name said with such disgust, in your entire life. You don’t know what to do, how to react. The deep gnawing pit in your stomach grows with the pain in your heart. You can’t help the silent tears that fall.
There is no sympathy to be had. Rokan simply laughs at you.
“Aww, Rokan. You made it cry, that’s so mean~!” You dare to look up, and feel the cracks in your heart splinter. A girl approaches, nestling herself into Rokan’s side as she stops beside him. You recognise her. Vekya. You were acquaintances at best. What little interactions you two had were always cordial as far as you can recall. But the sneer on her face speaks volumes. Had she always looked at you like this, when you back was turned?
How many in the clan felt the same then?
You’re overcome with anxiety once more. You can’t be around them. Not under their stares. Not under their eyes.
And so you run.
You hear their laughter fade into the background as you sprint away, not entirely caring where you end up.
---
You hiccup as you cry at the recollection, your throat clenching painfully. You want to continue, but it would seem your body has other ideas.
Your mother stares at you, the hold on your hands almost painful.
She sees the tears streaming down your face.
She sees the pain in your eyes.
The scars of your heart.
The sorrow in your soul.
And she sees...
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
[previous chapter] | 6 | [next chapter]
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Author's Note: So you may notice your age is lowered. I went back and decided I want reader to be a bit younger. Also I changed that you and Miles haven't given each other your names yet. Thank you to everyone for your patience!
Please let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! I also started a permanent taglist, so if you want to be on that instead, let me know :) Also if your name isn't underlined, it means I couldn't tag you for some reason :(
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Perma-Taglist: @mechformers @wwebaby657 @zomerlovesme @girlnred @raving-raven-writing @meeeeep5 @imavaduh @mxn14 @ashy-kit @manymaria111 @johoevi @iamwh0iam @jadesmyname
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Fic Taglist: @mynameisbaby9 @nissilou @d4rno @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @perseny @manymaria111 @mooniequeen @ndjhs7 @liuope @bucky12345 @maki-z @diosmilkymommers @misscaller06 @lovekeeho @a--1--1--3 @grimistangel @r3dc4ndy @alexqueenbee
I hope the bitter cynical lonely fictional character knows that i love them
word count: 4611
Pairing: Recom! Miles! Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi! Reader Tags/Warnings: smut, light bondage, dirty talk, pregnancy sex, light degradation, p in v, family, fluff, feelings, crying, comfort, acceptance
Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took so long everyone! Hope you enjoy :)))
<previous chapter> | 7 |
The sound of rain pulls you from slumber. The air is thick and humid this morning. You breath deep, the salty air filling your lungs, wiping away the last dregs of sleep.
Your beloved is not beside you; ever the early morning riser that one. Neither are the twins nor Spider, you notice.
With a groan you slowly sit yourself up, having to exert more effort than usual. Once up, your hand moves to the swell of your belly. Shouldn’t be too long now before this one joins your ever-growing little family. You estimate you have about 2 months to go.
You open your home to allow the fresh air in. You reach out to gather some of the cool summer rainwater in your hands, splashing it on your face. You light a small fire in the pit, then set about preparing some meats to cook for breakfast. While those sizzle, you then prepare some fresh fruit that had been left outside your doorstep; the clan often leave you things as their way of helping, knowing you’re due almost any day now.
“Somethin’ smells good,” your ear perk up at the sound of Miles’ voice.
“Good morning, husband,” you greet but don’t turn around. You don’t have to, because before you finish speaking, his arms are already around you. His hot breath tickles the back of your neck as he leaves soft kisses there.
“How’re my best girls this morning?” his hands gently cup the swell of your belly, gently swaying the two of you to some unheard tune. He presses his chest to your bare back, the cool wet skin of his sends a delicious shiver down your spine.
“Oh? And how do you know we are not blessed with more sons?” You smile at him over your shoulder.
“Father’s intuition sweetheart,” He leans to the side presses a quick kiss to your lips. He pulls back, pressing the side of his face to yours as he peers over your shoulder as you continue preparing fruit.
You hum thoughtfully at his words. You wouldn’t mind having a daughter. Or two. Eywa have mercy if you have another set of twins. Speaking of your children…
“Where are the boys?”
“Spider took them swimming, they’re at the heated pools in the jungle.” You make a noncommittal noise in acknowledgement.
“You know…with the kids busy, we have a little time to ourselves right now…” his hands travel from your belly, slowly tracing the length of your arms, before his hands rest in the crook of your neck. He starts massaging the base of your head with his thumbs. Your eyes close at the pleasurable sensation, moaning unexpectedly.
“You’re insatiable, you know that?” You tease him with a side eyed look. He grins down at you, eyes glazed over with desire. His gaze alone sends a pleasurable throb straight down to your core.
“Can’t help it darlin’. Seeing you like this, all big, belly swollen, and knowin’ it’s cuz of me? It does somethin’ to a man,” he bites the tip of your ear, and you let out an involuntary whimper; he knows all of your erogenous zones, and they become far more sensitive during pregnancy.
“Show me then my love, show me what I do to you.”
---
He has you trapped between his legs. Your back pressed to his chest as you lean back, head resting on his shoulder as you gasp between moans.
Your legs are draped over his thighs, keeping you spread. One hand gently massages the flesh of your breast, fingers occasionally pinching your pert nipple.
His other hand is busy at your core, 3 fingers deftly working their way in an out of your warm centre, making filthy squelches with each thrust. Your arousal coats his fingers and your thighs in inviting wetness. You are more than ready for him. But he loves playing with you, especially when you are at his mercy.
He removes his middle finger, bringing it to your clit, rubbing the sensitive bud in your slick. His finger glides over with ease thanks to your gushing nectar.
“Oh fuck…Miles right there—YES!” Your voice is breathless as you beg him for release; the pleasure coursing through you burning hotter as you approach the precipice of desire.
He returns his fingers to your inviting warmth, your walls sucking him in greedily. His fingers meet no resistance with how wet you are. He fucks his fingers into you faster this time, the palm of hand slapping against your clit, sending you further into the throws of passion. The symphony of your pleasure comes crashing down on you; the orgasm hitting you with a resounding crescendo. A rough press to your clit has you squirting much to yours and his delight.
“That’s it baby, you always perform so well for me.” Miles whispers into your ear, nipping at the nape of your neck. The feeling of your inviting walls clenching around his fingers sends blood straight to his hardened aching cock.
This was always the ritual. Always would he bring you to glorious orgasm, before chasing his own pleasure. Even if the two of you had an argument, falling into something in line with hate sex, he made sure to prepare you well. No matter what, you were always at the forefront of his mind.
You rest your entire weight against him, chest heaving with each laboured breath. Your skin is sticky with sweat, pussy throbbing, your release leaking all over the floor. You feel Miles’ hardness press into your lower back. He presses a kiss to your shoulder.
“Do you need a minute?” He asks ever to tenderly.
“For you my love? Never.” You turn yourself as much as you can, arms reaching for him. He understands what you want, immediately turning you to him. He pulls your arms around his neck, securing his behind your back, then crashing his lips to yours.
The kiss is bruising. He sucks on your lips, pressing his tongue to yours, drinking you in greedily as though you were destined to fade. He swallows the moan you release into his mouth. His hand moves to the base of your queue and he pulls you back.
Your eyes are mystified, glazed over from residual pleasure, but alight once more at the promise you see in his own eyes. They are dark with want, pupils dilated with heady need. He licks his teeth as he studies your face, a smirk forming on his lips.
He stands up, pulling you with him. You watch him curiously as he moves elsewhere, searching; there is an amusing flick of the tail when he finds it. He holds the item triumphantly in the air before coming back to you.
Ah. Rope.
He always did love restraints.
“You trust me, sweetheart?” You scoff, almost offended he needs to ask you for umpteenth time.
“Since our first night in the Dream my love. Always and forever.” Your smile is matched by his own.
“Hold your hands up, behind your head.” You do as instructed. The rope this not too thick, black and woven with expertise only a machine could craft. It was something you brought with you all those years ago. You figured it would be most useful; nothing hand crafted had yet matched it in quality. What you hadn’t expected was for your mate to use it in such, creative ways. Not that you complain; you were of course more than delighted to engage in his fantasies.
He fastens your wrists together tightly. The length is then wound around your neck, dropping between your breasts before he loops it around your mounds. It lowers through your cleavage and around the back; always he keeps it away from your belly. He nudges your legs apart. The rope is then wrapped around each hip and thigh.
He moves behind you then, pulling your fastened hands behind his head. His hands roam over you in reverence, from the swell of your breasts, to the expanse of your thighs, not a single inch of skin is left unworshipped. He gives the rope a final tug to make sure all is secure.
He kisses the side of your temple, and you feel him take a hold of your queue, joining it with his own. The low guttural moan he makes sends a spark of pleasure down your spine, straight to your cunt. You feel yourself becoming slick once more, not that you need even more prepping in the first place.
He grabs the rest of the rope in his right hand, before wrapping it around your front, nestling his arm between your breasts. He lowers his left hand until it reaches the back of your knee. You know without having to be told, and lift your leg. He holds your leg up as far as you can stretch; you are thankful to be so pliable after all these years. The position has your now aching core wide open, glistening in the fire light as you leak down your own leg.
You let out a soft moan as you feel the hardness of his naked cock rub against your slit, coating himself in your prior release. He lines himself up with your entrance, his head just breaching the opening.
“I love you, [Y/N],” he whispers into your ear before he buries himself in you to the hilt with one hard thrust. The sudden stretch burns in a delightful way, you hope you never get used to his size. You can’t help the sudden yelp of moan.
“Fucking hell baby, you’re so wet. And it’s all for me. My perfect little mate, with her perfect little cunt.”
The filth of his words causes a whimper to fall from your lips, but your walls clentch the scorching member inside you. Miles lets out a shaking laugh laced with pleasure.
“Pretty little thing you are. Always. So. Fucking. Perfect!” Each word is punctured with a hard thrust in and out of you. His long cock caressing the soft spongy flesh of your walls, finding that special spot that drives you wild and beyond reason. Greedily your walls clamp around him, begging his release and your own.
“You like that, darling? You’re always such a needy bitch in heat. Like it when your mate talks to you like that, huh?” He pulls on the rope, tightening the restraints all around you. The skin under the rope becoming warmer and reddening. You let out a straggled cry, mouth agape, you let your head fall back onto his shoulder.
The pleasure mounting in you growing with every passing moment. Your hands find purchase on his braid, holding on tight. He groans into your ear, the sound somewhere between a moan and a growl. It reverberates through your bones, to know your mate is so in the throes of pleasure, stokes fire in your own belly; your arousal covering his own.
He grabs your other leg, and suddenly you are hoisted into the air. You yelp with surprise, but he holds you firm. His pace is relentless, still thrusting up into your welcoming heat. Such display of strength only spurs you on further. There comes a dull ache in your legs from the strain of being held up, but also the tightness of the rope cutting into your joints.
The pain and pleasure mix wonderfully, pulling you over the edge and into your waiting orgasm. You moan loudly, almost a scream, Miles’ name spills from your lips in high pitch mewls. He doesn’t stop, fucking you through your orgasm to another, causing your to squirt all over his cock.
Tears flow freely from your eyes at the overstimulation, but by the Great Mother does it feel heavenly. Your ecstasy assaults him through the bond, finally sending him over the edge. His mouth bites down hard into your shoulder as he cums, shooting his seed up into your inviting warmth. Your walls clench him greedily, milking him till he is spent. There is a falter in his legs, you can almost feel the strain in his arms as he tries to keep you up as his pleasure wracks him to the core.
Finally though, he gently lowers you to the ground, falling onto his knees once your feet are firmly planted. You use him as leverage, lowering yourself before him. He rests his head to your shoulder, hands immediately finding your belly, resting them there.
Time passes slowly, filled with the smell of your sex and the sound of your joint laboured breaths. Slowly, Miles starts removing the rope from your person, throwing it somewhere out of sight once done. You collapse into his embrace once more, turning to your side as you lean against him. He cradles you in his arms, pressing delicate kisses to your hair.
You feel hot and sticky, but thoroughly fucked. You couldn’t be happier, tail wrapping around you both.
“You okay?” He asks, always, after any session in which he ties you up. His hands find your wrists, gently massaging the bruised skin.
“Always my love. Just a little worn out.” You close your eyes and lean into him more, never wanting this feeling to end. This peace and tranquillity.
---
Your mind drifts to the day, nearly 5 years ago, when you first landed on the island.
The Olo'eyktan and Tsahik came to greet you, as well as many members of the clan. They were surprised to see forest people; some never having seen any before. They gawked and stared unashamedly. They were more surprised though, by Spider’s presence. A Sky People child, painted with stripes, dressed in forest garb? What a spectacle!
The Tsahik had hissed when she caught sight of him, demanding that you take the Demon Child back from where you found it.
With great restraint you held your tongue, explaining instead that you cannot and would not go back. You wanted no part in the war with the Sky People, and neither did your mate. All you wanted was uturu. Some place far away from conflict. You explained that the Human boy, was in fact your mate's son, just without an Avatar body.
She was taken aback then, but grabbed your hand, noting the four fingers. She declared you too were of Demon blood, not true Na’vi. None of you were. Why should they let you stay? You looked to the Olo'eyktan then, pleading with your eyes. You gestured to Spider, saying that if he could adapt to live amongst Forest Na’vi, then you could all adapt, that you will adapt.
The Tsahik scoffed, walked around you three to inspect your tails. She stopped abruptly behind your mate, staring at his back. Her hand came to rest on the space between his shoulders. You saw the tenseness in his shoulders, wrapping his tail around his leg, hands clenched. He sends you a worried look, but you shrug, unsure of what she was doing.
You see her brows furrow. She removes her hand then, like she has been burnt, before returning to her mate’s side. She speaks low to him.
“That one, has been touched by Eywa.” The Olo'eyktan’s head shoots up as he stares at Miles, then looks back down to his mate for clarity.
“Touched?” He asks in shocked whisper. She clicks her tongue, annoyed at the events unfolding before her.
“Yes. Touched. Whether literal or spiritual, I cannot say for sure. But it is there. I feel it.” She squints at Miles, wholly distrusting of his person.
‘By the stars themselves, what could the Great Mother possibly have seen in this one?’ she thinks to herself.
“What of the boy? How will he live amongst us, if he cannot breathe our air?” The Tsahik gestures to Spider, who has been standing beside you awkwardly. You put a comforting hand around his shoulder, pressing him closer into your side.
“You need not worry. This Sky People-made mask will keep him safe.” You tap the mask gently. You’re not sure how much these people know of Human technology, but you don’t explain further. You send a silent thank you to Norm, Max and all the other scientists back home.
Just before your departure, you had decided Spider could not come with, intent to leave him behind, no matter how much it broke your heart. There would be no feasible way to replenish his oxygen packs supply. But Eywa smiled upon you. The humans, the engineers they were called, came forth with a new designed mask. It did not need oxygen packs like the old ones, instead filtered the air itself for safe breathing. It worked underwater too. It was sturdier too, strong as Na’vi bones they boasted.
Her eyes roam over you, then Spider, than up to your mate. She questions then, what skills you Forest folk could possibly bring to their shores. Your mate steps forward then, proudly stating he is a warrior, willing to fight anyone to prove his worth. The Olo'eyktan holds up his hand, stating that it wasn’t necessary, at least not yet.
The Tsahik’s eyes rake over you again, making you feel self-conscious. You see her gaze linger on your chest and your hips.
“You…Your patterns are of Forest folk, but your body is not.” It is more so a statement than a question, but demands an answer all the same.
“You are correct, Tsahik. My mother was true born Na’vi, of the Omatikaya clan. My father is…like my mate. Born of the Sky People.” She makes a disgruntled noise, but says nothing else.
After a moment of silence, she looks back up at her mate, and gives him the faintest of nods.
The Olo'eyktan announces then, that you three are welcome and are to be treated like their brothers and sisters. He warns them to be gentle with the Human, try not to gawk at him too much as there was still a village to look after. You thank him profusely, tears threating to fall at corner of your eyes. His smile is warm and welcoming, and the relief you feel is near palpable.
---
You and Miles decide to pack the food into a basket and bring it to the children. As the two of you are making your way along the beach to the path that would lead into the jungle, you are greeted by the sight of your two young sons running at you, Spider taking up the rear in a slow jog.
“Mama! Papa!” They yell in unison, arms outstretched as they crash into your legs.
“Good morning my little starlights! And to you too Spider, thank you so much for taking such good care of them,” You pick up Rawm as Miles does Taxun. Spider smiles up at the both of you, out of breath from the run.
“It’s no trouble [Y/N]. I already know what it’s like to have younger brothers.” He takes note of the basket Miles is holding, helping himself to the fruit inside. Your smile becomes a little sad at the memory of your family. You don’t have time to dwell on it though, as the kids notice Spider eating and immediately demand to be fed.
And so the 5 of you sit on the nearby rocks in the shade, enjoying the meats and fruits. It doesn’t last long, as the twins eat far too fast for your liking, before they start pulling Spider toward the ocean, wanting to swim in the cool water now that the sun was out. He of course obliges without fuss, and you giggle as you watch them splash about in the water.
The sun hangs high in the sky now, midday you presume. You enjoy the cool breeze kissing your skin, and the soft caress of your husband as he traces the glowing freckles on your back.
You are quiet, but there is gentleness in your eyes, a soft smile on your lips.
“Whatcha lookin’ at sweetheart?” Miles asks you, and you keep your eyes forward, smile widening.
“Our future.” Your voice is soft as the sand between your toes.
He hums in agreement, and kisses your check.
“Yeah…me too.”
---
You’re not sure how much time passes, perhaps not even an hour, when you here your name being called. You look to see the Olo'eyktan’s daughter coming to you hastily.
Your heart skips a beat at her urgency.
“[Y/N]! You must come quick! Follow me!”
“What’s wrong? What’s going on?”
“Did you not hear the horns?!” She asks as she speeds off, expecting you to follow. You look to your mate, both of you have a confused expression. Neither of you heard it, too engrossed in watching your family. The kids probably didn’t hear anything amongst their own yelling and playing.
Quaritch whistles to the kids, who all immediately cease their frivolity, and run back to you two. Miles wordlessly grabs both twins in his strong arms, and you hand Spider the now empty basket. You make your way back as fast as you can waddle, explaining to the kids along the way.
---
You see an unexpected amount of people gathered at the front beach, though you can’t quite make out what’s going on.
You hear the whispers and murmurs of the clan, strangers they say; visitors.
You and Miles share a concerned look as you make your way forward. A sound carries on the wind, a bellow of a creature; and you know that sound anywhere.
Ikran.
Your heart starts pounding in your chest, your mind running a mile a minute. You don’t even think as you start forcefully pushing your way through the crowed, flanked by Miles still holding the twins and Spider.
“What’s going on Papa?” Rawm asks, clutching onto his father tightly.
You don’t hear his response as you finally make your way out front, seeing the backs of your Olo'eyktan and Tsahik.
You vaguely note the 5 ikran poised on the sand, looking none too pleased.
And when you see the Na’vi visitors talking to your Olo'eyktan, tears well in your eyes, and you let out a straggled cry.
“Sanctuary for my—” The visiting man's voice cuts short when he hears your cry, immediately finding your gaze. His eyes widen at the sight of you, flicking to your swollen belly for a split second, before coming back to your face. He lets out a shaky laugh, a grin splitting his face.
The woman at his side looks at him confused, before following his line of sight. Your eyes meet, and she falls to her knees, covering her mouth as she cries, tears streaming down her face.
You approach them slowly, not caring for the stares of the clan, nor the poignant look Tsahik Ronal is sending you.
You stand before your parents.
“Hello mother. Hello father. Oel ngati kameie.”
Neytiri jumps to her feet, wrapping in her arms tightly. Her cries burn your ears but you don’t care. They are matched only by your own. You feel your fathers arms wrap around you two, and you swear by the Great Mother, that this was perhaps the first time you’ve ever heard him cry. Your four siblings rush at you too, scrambling to get you into an embrace of their own.
You hear the tell-tale sigh of your Tsahik, and the low chuckle of Olo'eyktan Tonowari.
“I guess you have a lot of catching up to do, no?” He turns to the clan and addresses them. “Treat Jake Sully and his family as our brothers and sisters, just as you did with those who came before.” He calls for his eldest son and daughter, instructing them to teach Jake and his family just as they had taught you.
Your family untangles from one another, though your parents still have their hands on your shoulders. You take each of their hands in your own.
“[Y/N], I—”
“Hush, mother. Before you say anything, you too father, there is someone, two actually, you should meet first…” You pull them towards Miles. You turn your head to your siblings, gesturing with your head for them to follow too. You feel them tense, and a falter in their step. You gently squeeze their hands, releasing a shaking breath when you feel them squeeze back.
“Oel ngati kameie, Jake and Neytiri.” Miles says with perfect annunciation. They don’t say anything, but gesture to him with their hands. They are far too in shock, eyes instead focused on the two boys in his arms.
“Mom, dad, siblings…I’d like you to meet my sons, Rawm and Taxun,” you gesture to your boys accordingly, letting go of your parents hands, nervously threading your own fingers together in front of you.
You hear your siblings greet them with little waves, introducing themselves as their aunts and uncles. The boys are shy, and barely greet them back with tiny voices. Kiri runs to Spider, pulling him into a wordless hug as she cries into his shoulder.
“Hey kiddos, it’s nice to meet you. I’m your grandpa, Jake,” You father smiles at them big and goofy, tail swaying with joy.
“Pa Jake?” Rawm asks, bringing tears to the edge of your fathers eyes. He lets out a shaky laugh and nods.
“Yeah, that’s right. I’m your mama’s papa. Just like this man, is your papa.” He pats Miles on the shoulder, and the two share a look. You can see so much unspoken words exchange between them, Miles lowering his ears submissively. But your father gives him a kind smile. You can see in your mates eyes, even as he returns the smile, there is a hint of guilt there.
Your son surprises you then, reaching for your father, who happily takes him into his arms, smile widening.
You look to your mother then; filled with trepidation at her reaction. All of your anxiety shatters when you see her smile your boys.
“Hello little ones. I am your grandmother Neytiri. Your mama’s mama…” She wipes away a stray tear, and happily takes Taxun when he reaches for her.
She gently rocks him, patting his back with practiced ease. Your heart swells at the sight of your parents holding their grandchildren.
Neytiri’s eyes lift from your son then, to meet your mate’s gaze head on. She stares at him, studying him, but he doesn’t break the eye contact. She closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath, exhaling through her mouth. She opens her eyes and fixes him with a determined look.
“Oel ngati kameie, Miles Quaritch.” She nods to him, hand gesturing towards him in the proper greeting. “Thank you…for taking care of my daughter.”
His eyes widen at her words, and she smiles up at him, though it is small, as she hugs your son to her a little more tightly.
“Oel ngati kameie, [Y/N], my daughter…I am so happy, to see you, alive and well.” She touches a hand to your belly briefly, before returning to pat your sons back. “You too Spider…I am, pleased, to see you are doing well.”
Spider gives her a shy smile and a nod. Your brothers flank him, poking his sides and remarking on his larger frame, toned by years of swimming.
“Oel ngati kameie, mother, father, siblings. Welcome to our family.”
Everyone comes together, embracing in one giant hug, with you and Miles at the centre.
“Wherever we go, our family is our Fortress.” You father says.
“Sullys stick together,” Neteyam adds.
“And now, Quaritches too.” Your mother says, and with that, the dam breaks.
You cry tears of joy, safely nestled in the embrace of your family.
You couldn’t be happier.
End
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<previous chapter> | 7 |
Author's Note: And that's a wrap people! Originally this was gonna end with Quaritch's "yeah me too" on the beach. But then it occurred to me, people would probably want a reunion with the family, so here we are!
Thank you so much to everyone who's followed along with what was supposed to be a horny one-shot that then turned into a mini series XD I look forward to seeing ya'll in my future works, so stay tuned!
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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 @ding-dong-big-schlong @netherklutz @moneyoverl0v3 @@episodic8peace @touchedflowers @sarcasticrandy @lov3rluna @totesnothere04 @ab-haya @me-on-pluto @ducks118 @grimistangel @lovekeeho @itsyoboysparkel
Pairing: Human/Recom/Navi Miles Quaritch x Female! Na'vi! Sully! Reader Tags/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, rare pairing, possibly dark content, smut, adult themes, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, lust, older man x younger woman, under age reader (16), degradation, nsfw, dubious consent, dirty talk, orgasm, orgasm denial, foul language, choking, vaginal fucking - each chapter will have it's own tags
Author's Notes: Am I going crazy? I can't find the masterlist for this fic so I'm making a new one. Seems like it just *POOF* disappeared! Someone let me know if I'm just blind >_>
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7
--- Tags: @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
God DAYUM
Miles Quaritch x female recombinant reader
Words: 3.9k
Summary: The cute newbie of his squad enjoys late night activities way too much, keeping Miles up every single night since she moved into the quarters next to his room.
Warnings: explicit smut, masturbation, mutual masturbation, p in v, doggy, accidental voyeurism, secret crush, teasing, creampie, age difference, alien biology, Z-dog being a subtle wingman lol, degradation & praise kink, just quaritch being quaritch (reader calls him Sir)
Of course they had warned him about this. The heightened senses and all that. Miles knew about the Na‘vi’s keen sense of smell, their incredible eye sight and the distinctive hearing, even before he became one of them. Well, sort of.
What he didn’t expect though, was how incredibly good his sense actually were now.
It was a blessing and a curse.
A blessing mostly because it gave him an advantage, made him better than the human soldiers, a better version of his own past self. And finally he was eye level with his sworn enemy. But as soon as he was back in bridgehead city, back at the base and in his private quarters, it was curse. Miles could handle his new body and all the changes that came with it, there was no doubt in that. But out of all things, it was his distinctive hearing that quite literally made his life hell. Well, not his whole life but specifically his nights.
To his right, there was Lyle‘s room. The Corporal had always been a heavy sleeper, snoring louder than the roar of a Thanator. It was annoying, but bearable, even with his heightened senses. To his right, however, there was your room.
Miles didn’t know you when you were a human, he had only frequently met you when you had joined his team. You were a cute thing, young and eager and maybe a little too pretty to be a recom soldier. You looked more like you belonged to the nerds working in the bio labs, always walking around with that bright smile and sunshine attitude. And you definitely got on his nerves more than he would like to admit. More so, when Ardmore made you move in to the room right next to his. Now his nights were spent mostly sleepless, forced to listen to the little night owl he had as his new neighbor. All thanks to the Na‘vi and their damn distinctive hearing.
On some nights, it felt like there weren’t any walls at all. He could hear you loud and clear, like you were standing right here in his room as you did your little bedtime routine, several hours after you were supposed to go to bed.
Quaritch could hear how you turned on the shower, the water running against the tiled wall and down the drain for a good ten minutes until he heard you step under the spray. You probably loved a good, hot shower, he noticed right away in the first night. From then on, with nothing better to do than to lay there and listen to the newbie showering, Miles often found himself imagining you under the spray of water.
He just couldn’t help it. His mind almost instantly presented him with a clear picture of your naked body, imagining you all wet and soapy, with your hands running over your curves. Fuck, he could smell your damn shampoo all the way from here. Fucking vanilla, he scoffed, as his hands found the waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down enough to free his now hard cock. He would make you run an extra mile around the campus tomorrow, just for that.
It’s not often that he had some alone time on this damn planet. Better use his precious time wisely if he couldn’t sleep anyway…
At least he had his private quarters, unlike most of his subordinates who either had to keep it in their pants or be stealthy about it. Or didn’t care what others might think of their nightly jerkoff session.
Miles was so hard, his cock was throbbing painfully in his palm as he begins to move his hand up and down, stroking lazily to the thought of you. Faintly, he remembers overhearing a conversation between you and Z-dog from a couple of days ago. It was after a mission, when she had asked how you always smelled so nice and what you used to keep your skin so soft. Their new bodies required more care than what they were used to when they were all still human, so you happily recommended her some oil that you frequently used. Of course you went into full detail, talking about how she had to use a generous amount and make sure to rub it into her skin and fucking great, now he was imagining you oiling yourself up like a damn snack.
Miles was gritting his teeth as he stroked over his shaft, squeezing the blue tip of his cock just right, forcing the very first droplets of pre-cum to form and spill over his knuckles. While he enjoyed fast-pace excitement every so often, it was nice to take his time and let all the pleasure course through him.
Out of all his years of living, he had never wanted to bend a woman over so bad. It was an unfamiliar feeling, something that hadn’t plagued his usually cool and composed mind in such a long time. You just looked so inviting, so good, so kissable, suckable, so fuckable. Miles wanted to bend you, eat you and fuck you in so many different ways, he wanted to make you cry. He wanted to see tears trickle down that beautiful face of yours, wanted to see those plumb lips slick with spit and his cum. And fuck, did he wanted to see that ass bounce on him. You were almost as sweet as your delicious ass looked. Quaritch wasn’t the type to stare, he barely paid you any attention at all, truth be told. But god damn, was it hard not to crane his neck to get a glimpse of that ass whenever you walked by.
On some nights, his perverted thoughts would come to an end once you mercifully decided to end your twenty minute long hot shower and went to bed. On other nights however, you didn’t went straight to bed. Well, to bed yes but… not to sleep. Those nights were the very reason Miles was cursing your name so venomently while wrapping his fist tightly around his cock.
Those nights, where you would settle down with the faint creak of your bed and where he could pinpoint the exact moment your breathing increased. He could see it clear as day in his minds eye, how you laid down and spread those pretty legs, ran your soft hands down over your stomach until they disappeared between your thighs. Oh, how he would love to bite into the soft of your inner thighs, leave his marks there, before he would taste you. Miles frequently imagined the flavor of your pussy and he could almost taste it on his tongue every time. He bets you’re so sweet– all dripping wet, smelling like that damn vanilla stuff and so fucking delicious.
The recom‘s ears twitched as they picked up the sounds of your tender fingers entering your slick cunt. God, what he would give to replace them with his cock. Miles tried to stroke his length in the same rhythm of those obscene squelching sounds coming from the room next door. But those sweet moans and heavy pants that left your lips made it very difficult for him to not fuck his fist like a madman.
There’s a tightness, a warmth that swells inside him and it gets even worse when he hears you shift around on your bed, clearly turning to your side to reach for something.
By now, he already knew the familiar sound of your nightstand drawer getting pulled open. It was a sound that would probably wake him up from the deepest slumber and instantly give him a boner. Like some sort of muscle memory or whatever. And that even though he absolutely hated when you used your toys. And you seemingly had a various amount of them. Going by the way you were moaning and whimpering on some nights, they had different sizes too. Oh you would definitely be able to take all of him, if he were ever going to stuff that needy little hole of yours.
But the worst of all was whatever toy you owned that was buzzing so fucking loud. He cursed it. Were you really that desperate that you needed a vibrator too? It was almost impossible to hear your sweet moans, thanks to that damn thing.
If you needed something to fill you up so bad, why didn’t you just ask? There were like… ten guys in his squad that would gladly bend you over the next best surface, going by the way they all looked at you and tried their absolute most to sweet talk their way into your pants. Why the fuck were you rejecting them, if you needed to get laid so bad?
Nevertheless, Miles thanked god you didn’t settle for that vibrator today. Whatever you had chosen instead though, must’ve been big enough for you to whine so loud, even a regular without distinctive hearing could’ve heard that.
Quaritch‘s imagination provides him with images of you, laying on your bed and with your legs spread wide while you thrust the toy into you. Or would you kneel? Would you hover over it and slowly sink down, forcing the silicon cock to stretch you out to the absolute most? Maybe you were the type of girl that would enjoy a little pain, maybe you would rush it because you’re so desperate. You would just sit down and take it all at once, because you love the sting that the sudden stretch brings. He imagines how you bounce on that fake cock, humping like a little bunny in heat and he groans through clenched teeth, wishing it was him instead.
Speeding up his movements, Miles hips were already bucking up to fuck into his fist, your moans and whimpers only egging him on more. Shit, he was close. It had been so long since he'd let himself have a satisfying release, but this would have to do. He would end up shooting his cum into his fist, instead of a wet little pussy that would actually satisfy his needs. Then he would clean himself and he would try to rest for at least a few more hours, until he had to get up for his squad’s morning workout. And he would look at you– if he would even look at you, no, he would most definitely ignore you just like any other day, acting like none of this has ever happened. Like he wasn’t daydreaming about fucking you stupid every second of the day.
This was how it was supposed to go. How it always went.
Just not today, though.
At first, Miles thought that his mind was playing tricks on him. That it was just his brain adding further stimulation to the imaginary scenario in his head, in favor of helping him cum. But then he heard it again.
A soft, high-pitched and keening whine of his name. His damn name.
"Miles– oh god Miles, fuck yes", you were moaning, chanting his name like a prayer. Like you were begging for him to come over and help you out.
Miles head perked at the sound, so audible even through the wall that separated your rooms. And then it was like his body moved without his brain telling him to. Pulling his boxers back up and rearranging himself, he made his way over to the room next door.
It took a whole five minutes after knocking that you finally opened. The door creaked open just a few inches, revealing your delicate frame to him. The room behind you was almost dark, the only source of light was coming from the dim hallway. Quaritch couldn’t hide the smug grin that formed on his face by the sight of you, dressed in nothing but an oversized shirt that had the RDAs logo printed on it, your tail nervously swaying behind your back. And you weren’t wearing a bra, by the looks of it. What a delightful sight for his hungry eyes.
When you realize that it’s him, your eyebrows rise in surprise and you open the door just a little wider. "C-Colonel, Sir, what— it’s the middle of the night, what are you doing here?"
Miles takes a step closer to you and your eyes widen. "Next time you need a hand, kid", he takes another step, "just ask me."
He steps closer and closer, until you’re left with no choice but to let him in. Your eyes are wide and your cheeks have turned into dark blush of purple, as you look at him. He then closes the door behind your back and with the way he’s standing, he’s basically towering over you.
"Heard you moaning my name like a little bitch in heat", he then tells you grinning and you swallow thickly, "was wondering when you’d finally ask for help."
With that, he spins you around, your hands flat against the cool metal door, before he positions himself behind you. You don’t resist when he kicks your legs apart and rides your shirt up, enough to expose your lower half to him.
"Hm, would you look at that", he hums, "No panties, huh?"
"I- I had to hurry to open the door, sir", you try to explain but the Colonel only chuckles. You feel his hands, caressing the back of your thighs and the curve of your bottom. He kneads the plump cheeks of you ass in his big hands, his head tilted enough to get a glimpse of your pussy when he spreads your cheeks. Your lips and inner thighs are covered in your arousal, glistening in the dim room and he can’t help but lick his lips at the sight.
"Ah right. And what were you doing before that?"
Miles pulls his boxer briefs down enough to free his hard length before he lines himself up, the head of his hard cock rubbing along your slit, coating himself in your slickness. He hears you gasp and your head hangs low between your arms, support yourself on the door. He gives you a minute to relish in the feeling of his cock sliding between your wet folds before he clicks his tongue, "Answer me when I’m talking to you."
You can’t help yourself. His words have your pussy clenching around nothing and you are so desperate to finally get what you’ve been wishing and praying for, you’re left with no choice but to respond to his teasing, "I‘m– I was… I was fingering myself." Your voice is barely above a whisper, but you know he’s heard you loud and clear.
"Just your fingers?", he scoffs, "Didn’t sound like it was just your fingers. Don’t lie to me, sweetheart."
His hands find purchase on your hips, pulling you closer so the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you hold your breath. He’s thick and warm and he pushes himself in so painfully slow, you can’t help but whimper. But then he retreats, pulling the very few inches he had granted you right back out. It was torture, all that just to make you talk.
"F-Fuck okay, okay! I was using… toys", you shamefully admit.
With those words he slams his hips forward, cock forcing itself deep inside you, the blunt head hitting your cervix in a way that has your legs quaking. And if you weren’t being pushed against the door, with his big hands supporting your weight by your hips, you would already be on the floor.
"What kind of toys?", Miles asks you so nonchalantly, it’s beyond you how he can keep his voice so composed while he’s buried balls deep inside you. "Anything big, hm? Bigger than me?"
You can’t really see him from your current position, but you know he’s grinning– that shit eating grin, with the tip of his fangs showing.
You quickly shake your head, "N-No sir!"
"You know what? I believe you, cupcake. You’re still so fucking tight, there’s no way you were using anything bigger than me. I barely fit, jesus christ." Quaritch exhales a shaky breathe, his eyes fixed to where you were joined, how you hugged his length tightly and he knew just from the feeling of your wet walls sucking him in, that this couldn’t be a one time thing. You had him addicted already and while this wasn’t even done yet, he was already imagining all the positions he would bend you in next.
“Gonna fuck you now. Think you can take it?” He all but growls in your ear, the timbre of it making you clench around him and you nod, desperately wiggling your hips to get him to move. “Good fucking girl", he gruffs out the praise, hips starting to retract and snap back at a furious pace.
Quaritch fell into a steady pace, the swing of his hips becoming quick and rhythmic. The slap of skin on skin filled his ears, joined by the breathless panting and moans that escaped your lips, sounding more and more desperate with each passing second and every stroke of his cock.
The firm snap of his hips against yours made your eyes roll to the back of your head, while you were trembling on unsteady feet to keep yourself upright. The way he was fucking into you was everything but lovingly. Quaritch was using you, using you for his own pleasure and fucking hell– you loved every second of it.
Especially so, when one of his hands encircles your middle and drops low between your thighs to search for your clit. Once found, he lightly slaps the little bundle of nerves and you suck in a breathe between clenched teeth. He then proceeded to roll it between his rough thumb and index finger, drawing tight circles that have you moan and squirm underneath his touch.
"F-Fuck yes, right t-there oh my god", you cry out when he speeds up the movement of thrusts, combined with the flicks of skillful digits between your thighs. You both knew that neither of you would last long, not with the way you both unknowingly worked each other up.
Some sane part of your brain registers that there’s no way the rest of your squad, the recoms in the other rooms that were littered along the hallway, couldn’t hear what was going on. Strangely enough, that thought starts tightening the coil inside of you, making you clench around him harder.
"That’s it, cupcake, don’t hold back", Quaritch groans, "Let everyone here how good I’m making you feel, be as loud as you need to. Never had a problem with that anyways, am I right?"
He pounded into you then, the head of his cock rapidly hitting your g-spot in the process while he rubbed your clit in a matching pace. Your jaw dropped and your hand clenched into fists against the door, but oh, that wasn't all that was clenching. Your breathing turned needy and higher pitched, struggling to keep steady as he was driving you over the edge faster.
You feel a familiar tension crawl under your skin, a warmth spreading through your core and you can’t help but push yourself back against him. You wanted– no, you needed to cum.
"God, look at you fucking taking it", Miles groans, biting his bottom lip hard enough to keep himself from spilling just a few moments longer. He was already so close from his little jerk off session, it was on the verge of edging himself now. But he wanted to feel you fall apart, wanted to feel you come first. He wanted to use your orgasm, the pulsing rhythm of your thigh pussy clenching down on him to help him over the edge.
It's a buildup of tension that arches your back and curls your toes and just when you think you can't take it anymore, something snaps. "Oh fuck, I’m gonna come", is the only thing you manage to get out before your orgasm pulses throughout your body and you moan, loud and lewd. You should probably feel embarrassed for being so vocal in the middle of the night, but you couldn’t care less right now. It was too late to feel embarrassed now. Especially when the Colonel was fucking you through it so good.
"Shit, would you look at that. You look delicious enough to eat, so damn pretty when you cum around my cock."
You feel his pace change before you can even come down from your high. It’s not necessarily slower, but his thrusts become shorter, deeper and they knock you forward until you can barely hold yourself upright against that damn door.
Quaritch grunts, ears flat against his head, as he reaches his own limit with a hiss. He buries his cock deep inside your cunt, cursing as he pumps his release straight into you. It’s hot and sticky and feel every rope of his cum enter you, while the hands on your hips hold you firm, hard enough to bruise. You moan and quiver as you’re filled, his heat pouring into you, filling you to the absolute brim, before spilling over and bubbling onto the floor.
And finally, you can breathe again. You didn’t even realize you were holding your breathe until now. That first hit of oxygen to your brain was practically revitalizing, giving you enough clarity to process what the hell just happened.
"Can’t deny you’re a good fuck, cupcake", Quaritch tells you panting, pulling his cock out of you a little too fast for your liking. You cringe when you feel more of his cum seep out of you and the feeling of it smearing between your thighs leaves you feeling filthy. You push yourself off the door, your face flustered as you turn around and you avoid his gaze at all cost. Nervously, you fiddle with the hem of your shirt, pulling it down enough to hide your private parts from. As if he didn’t just get a front row seat to look at your pussy in all its glory…
Shit– what were you even thinking, letting this happen? Quaritch was basically your boss! And now your secret little crush on him wasn’t so secret anymore…. All that just because you couldn’t keep it down. But how were you supposed to know that he was able to hear you all this time? Fucking thank you for that Z-dog, you curse your next door neighbor. She could’ve at least said something, assuming that she must have heard you too then.
You just can’t bring yourself to look up at the man standing in front of you, too awkward now that you realized how much of a fool you’ve made out of yourself, moaning like a slut for the whole world to hear. It’s not until you hear Quaritch scoff that you take a quick glance at him. He looks entirely too good standing there in his boxer briefs and muscle shirt, board arms crossed over his chest, right where his dog tags dangle against his sweaty skin. Oh god…
He grins with his canine showing and tilts his head in amusement, when he sees you swallow thickly and adverting your gaze from his body to his eyes in a not so subtle way.
"If you’re so needy, at least come over and let me help you out", he then tells you with a chuckle and your eyes widen at his unexpected words, "Instead of keeping me up all night and forcing me to listen to you, fucking yourself with whatever toys you’ve got in that drawer. Got it?"
"Yes sir…"
Hello please reblog this if you’re okay with people sending you random asks to get to know you better
Hello everyone! Figured I should make one of these since I plan to flood this place with all of my nonsense! Will update is I write more! So please feel free to ask me if you have any requests for x reader! I'll also right any pairings you like, except Quaritch, he belongs to reader >:)))
🔄 - ongoing
✅ - completed
🔞 - adult only content - mostly pertaining to smut - MINORS DON'T YOU DARE
🌸 - family friendly, hand holding, fluff, romance no smut, platonic etc.
PERMANENT TAG LIST: Here
Else please leave a comment on the relevant fic you specifically want to be pinged for :)
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MILES QUARITCH.。.:*☆
🔄🔞 The Lie of Providence - Recom/Na'vi Miles Quaritch x Sully! Female! Na'vi Reader
✅ 🔞What Do I Tell My Friends Family? - Human/Recom Miles Quaritch x Sully! Female! Na'vi Reader
✅🌸Red Rivers Run Deep - Human Miles Quaritch x Human! Female! Reader
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
JAKE SULLY.。.:*☆
✅🔞Hold My Hand and Never Let Go - Jake Sully x Omatikaya! Female! Na'vi Reader
✅🔞Scorching - Jake Sully x Female! Na'vi Reader
⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒
NETEYAM SULLY.。.:*☆
✅🌸Resplendent- Neteyam Sully x Female! Metkayina! Na'vi Reader
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AO'NUNG.。.:*☆
✅🌸 - Jealousy? You Wear it Well - Ao'nung x Omatikayan! Sully! Female! Na'vi Reader
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word count: 1906
Pairing: Recom Miles Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi Reader Tags/Warnings: family bonding Author's Note: Slightly longer chapter! Posts still not showing up in tags TwT Oh well, I'll still keep posting in the hopes it fixes itself! Just a reminder this is in fact a slow burn, so I would like to do a bit of world building. Help establish your place amongst the family and clan.
"blue text" is spoken Na'vi. 'Italics' are inner thoughts.
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It is when you reach the age of 12 that you decide these dreams are Eywa’s doing. They visit you in an unpredictable frequency. Whether he is a memory of a man long since passed, or a figment of your imagination given life through dreamscape; you are unsure, but don’t think too much of it. After all they are merely dreams, they cannot hurt you, right?
The man doesn’t say much. More often than not you two didn’t interact at all. If he sees you, he simply huffs in annoyance and ignores you. As such you simply observed him from a distance, hidden behind something or rather, as he performed whatever bizarre Human ritual he felt necessary.
Sometimes you go months without seeing him. But it’s happened often enough now you find your mind drifts to him.
You’re at the Tree of Souls with your grandmother, Mo’at, repeating after her as she leads you through a prayer to Eywa, when a thought suddenly hits you; ‘what if he was a human soul, and the Great Mother claimed him as her own?’ You stop in wonder at the thought. Would such a thing even be possible? Even after everything that they’ve done to your clan, would she still find place for them in Her Embrace? Maybe. There were plenty of Sky People who were good. They respected the All-Mother and all her children.
Spider was one of them – the strange boy that he is. You don’t know of any other human children on Pandora, and you think he must be the first to be born here. He’s only 7, the same age as your younger brother Lo’ak and sister Kiri, but by Eywa is he just as rambunctious. You love seeing him play with them and Neteyam too. Tuk is a bit too young, still a baby that one. But you have no doubt in your mind she’ll enjoy his company just as much.
Out of all your siblings though, you’re sure he’s closest to you. As the eldest, you naturally fell into the role of protector. And as far as you’re concerned, he’s just another part of the family, another little brother to watch over and love.
“[Y/N]?”
Your thoughts are interrupted by your grandmother calling your name. You realise you had stopped praying as your mind started to wonder.
“Yes, grandmother?”
“Tell me child, what is on your mind? You are distracted.” She asks you as she brushes some hair from your face. You smile at the gesture.
“Nothing is the matter, sorry grandmother. I was just thinking of my brothers and sisters.” She hums thoughtfully and pulls her hand back.
“You may go to them then. There will be plenty of time to give thanks to the All-Mother. But your brothers and sister won’t always be so young. Go and enjoy them.” You grin at the declaration and hug her quickly before immediately sprinting to find your little band of siblings. She smiles at the sight of you running carefree through the forest.
You have a pretty good idea where you might find them. There are a few rivers nearby that you all love splashing in. Sometimes Father will join, chasing all of you through the shallows and splashing all of you wildly. You love that game.
You make your way to the first river but do not see your siblings. You do find a few adults fishing though. You recognise one of them as Saeyla, a great warrior and friend to both your parents.
“Ah! Young [Y/N]! What brings you here? Here to help us fish, are you?” She beams a wild smile at you. You see a young initiate beside her. She must be showing him the best places to fish, and when to appropriately use a bow or spear.
“Hello Saeyla! No not right now. I’m looking for my brothers and sisters, have you seen them?” She nods and points to her left. You thank her and run off in that direction, bidding goodbye to everyone.
Once you’re out of earshot the young man chuffs to himself and mumbles,
“She still looks like a freak even after all this time.” Saeyla flicks him right in the forehead.
“Watch your tongue! In case you have forgotten, that is Toruk Makto’s daughter. Our Olo'eyktan’s daughter. Show some respect. It is by Eywa’s will that she is here. Or are you going to question the wisdom of our Great Mother?” She fixes him with a stare, challenging him. He stiffens at her look.
“Sorry Saeyla. I—I didn’t mean—” He stumbles to find the right words but she waves him off with a click of her tongue.
“Let us continue and pretend you said nothing.” He nods at her words.
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Your siblings are exactly where Saeyla said they’d be. All happily splashing in the water; not a care in the world. You smile and sit on a nearby tree root, a bit out of their line of sight. Content to simply watch them. You’re happy to see little Spider here too. You giggle to yourself as you watch him playfully dive atop the pile of Kiri and Lo’ak, Neteyam off to the side pulling on someone’s tail.
As you watch them, you admire the gold of Spider’s locks, not too dissimilar to your own. The play with the threaded gold of your hair idly between fingers, reminiscing on the firs time you had met the boy.
You had begged and pleaded with Father to teach you the language of the Sky People. Reluctant at first, he figured it would probably be in your best interest to learn it in the end, considering there were plenty of Humans and Avatars left behind on Pandora. And to be fair not everyone had learnt the Na’vi language. He figures you being at the young age of 8, it’s probably easier for their language to make a lasting impression than adults learning Na’vi.
He relents and takes you to see Norm, though bi-lingual now himself, he’s not entirely sure how to go about actually teaching you the language. Figured Norm, the science-head that he is, would have an easier time. You like Uncle Norm anyway. He tells you lost of fascinating stories about Sky People and the planet they came from. Especially when Father is reluctant to share. You also find it very funny when he switches to his Sky People body; he’s so short compared to when he’s a Dreamwalker.
So there you are, at Hell’s Gate with your Father. Mother stayed behind in the forest, content to watch over Neteyam, Lo’ak and Kiri.
Father and Uncle Norm are discussing something, you’re not paying attention to their words. Instead you busy yourself looking at the pretty pictures in a book on a desk nearby. You pay no mind to the idle sounds of the other scientists nearby as the work.
However, your attention is suddenly pulled by the pitter patter sound of hastily running feet and someone yelling “Spider get back here!”
Before you can turn around, something solid collides with your legs, causing you to drop the book as you fall to the floor, the solid thing landing on your legs.
“[Y/N]!” Your father is immediately by your side, gently picking you up as he puts you back on your feet carefully.
“I’m okay Dad,” you assure him. Didn’t even hurt. You look over and find Uncle Norm similarly lifting up someone. The someone that collided with you. It’s a child. A Human child.
“Spider you gotta be careful, you can’t just run into people like that. Now say sorry to [Y/N].” Uncle Norm chastises the child, Spider.
“Sowwy, I ram into yoo.” He says, his pronunciation a little off, but you understood him.
“Oh, I guess this is the first time the two of you have ever seen each other. [Y/N], this is Spider. Spider, this is [Y/N]. She’s my daughter. Say hello, [Y/N].” It is your Father that does the introductions.
“Hello! My name is [Y/N]! It’s nice to meet you Spider!” You beam at him. You didn’t expect him to speak Na’vi. Uncle Norm must be teaching him. You think hard and remember the Sky People greeting Uncle Norm showed you. Ah, right! A handshake! You stick out your hand confidently.
Spider looks at your hand as if unsure what to do. He looks back up to your face with a slight tilt to his head, a questioning look adorns his cute little face.
You giggle at his expression. Instead, you gesture with the traditional Oel ngati kameie hand motion. Spider smiles and copies you, even if the way he swings his arm is a bit off. You admire his hair. It is wild and golden like yours, though yours is a tad lighter.
“I like your hair.”
“Fanks. I like yor eyes. They pretty like strawberries.” You’re not sure what that last thing is. But that sounded like a nice thing so you say thank you.
It is from this tiny interaction that Spider becomes enraptured by you and your family. He’s seen Norm’s avatar, and the ones that walk around Hell’s Gate. But you? You and your father are different. You live in the Forest. And Spider LOVES the forest. He wishes Norm would let him run around outside and explore. “Maybe when you’re older,” he kept telling him.
And so begins months of learning the Sky People language from Uncle Norm and Father, while Spider is taught Na’vi by the two older males in tandem. Every chance you get, the two of you practice with each other. You speak English to him, and he Na’vi to you. It is a fun game.
It’s been about 4 years since then, now you’re both reasonably fluent in either language. Spider though seems much more content to speak Na’vi and that’s fine by you. Your siblings were eventually also taught the Sky People’s language to make communication between Humans, Dreamwalkers and Clan easier.
You continue to quietly watch your siblings play. And yes, you definitely consider Spider a younger brother. You don’t care that he is Human. Why should that matter? After all, your Dad used to be human. And even now, you understand that his body is that of a Dreamwalker.
A gentle breeze carries the laughter of your siblings to you. Their song dances around you, and you close your eyes and smile at the feeling. You could almost feel the Great Mother in the shades of the trees; sheltering you from the harshness of direct sunlight. Though you enjoy the kiss of sunlight as it seeps through the gaps between leaves, leaving warm and soft patterns across your skin.
Deciding you’ve had enough of watching and want to play in the water too, you sit up from your tree spot and make your way over to everyone else.
Spider is the first to notice your approach; thought it surely isn’t hard to miss your alabaster form against the greens of the forest.
“[Y/N]!!!” He yells excitedly and rushes to meet you part way into the water. Everyone else yells your name in greeting and follow him.
“Hello everyone!” You greet back and are soon tackled to the ground by a horde of toddlers. You giggle at their antics. Soon you all resume what ever game it is they were playing, lots of splashes and lots of laughter.
You couldn’t be happier.
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