The Lie Of Providence-Chapter4 -By Thy Father

The Lie of Providence - Chapter 4 - By Thy Father

word count: 1590

Pairing: Recom Miles Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi Reader A/N: A meaning conversation between Father and Daughter. Hope you like it! Remember to hmu if you'd like to be added to tag list. If I've left you off, it is by accident, so please let me know! As usual apologies for any grammatical errors!

"blue text" is spoken Na'vi. 'Italics' are thoughts.

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Your sleep the next few days are restless. Though you do not return to the dream, the fear and anxiety alone kept slumber at bay. Neytiri is the first to notice your change in behaviour.

A mother is always watching, drinking in the splendour of her offspring. And something is indeed off with you. She decides to broach the topic to her husband.

“Ma Jake,” she catches him alone one evening, you and your siblings already asleep for the night; though not without great difficulty on your part.

“What’s up, babe?” Usually she would giggle to be addressed so in English, playfully hitting him for his silly behaviour, but tonight is not the night for flirting so she brushes it off.

“I fear something is wrong with [Y/N].” Neytiri’s ears pin back as she says this, looking into her beloved’s eyes. He can see the fear there, brewing. His own ears perk up in interest and anticipation, the ever-present flame inside to protect his family roaring to life.

“Tell me.”

“I have been watching and I have seen. These pass few days, she eats less, she smiles less. And when it is time to sleep, she fights to stay awake, like she is afraid. When she thinks no one is looking, her face, you can see sadness. Fear. But when I try to ask, she says she is fine. She smiles but it isn’t real. I do not like this Ma Jake…” her lips tremble slightly and immediately she’s pulled into a hug.

Jake rests his head on top of hers, planting a kiss to her hair. He gently sways back and forth, his arms wrapped tightly around her as she softly weeps.

“It’s okay, everything is gonna be okay…I’ll talk to her tomorrow. I’m sorry I didn’t realise sooner,” he pulls back to wipe the tear stains with his thumbs. He cups her face and kisses her softly. He doesn’t pull away but rests his forehead against hers.

“It’s okay, I know you are busy. You are Olo'eyktan. You have many duties.”

“My duty is first and foremost to this family. And I’ll do whatever it damn well takes to keep you all safe.”

Neytiri smiles at him with an exasperated laugh, placing her hand over his.

“I know.”

---

It’s early morning in Pandora. The sun has only just broken the horizon, the golden yolk cascading across the sky. You left home before daybreak, needing somewhere quiet, somewhere you can be alone with your thoughts.

And so you took the short trek to the Tree of Souls. You round the back of the tree, resting upon its great trunk, curtained by its luminescent tendrils. You pull our knees up to your chest, fold your arms upon your knees, and rest your head therein. Your hair falls around you in golden splendour, damn still with the dewy diamonds of the morning shimmering in the morning glow.

Another dreamless sleep, yet restless all the same. The bags under your eyes are evident of that. You contemplate asking your Tsahik for guidance. Apprehension has stopped you thus far though; what if this was the Will of Eywa? You’re not sure how you’d feel about such an answer. What could you have done to deserve such suffering?

Your thoughts are interrupted by approaching footsteps. You tilt your head up to see your father approach and make himself comfortable beside you.

“Hey kid,” he greets you with a gentle smile, “you’re up early.”

You smile crookedly. “So are you.”

Jake smiles down at you and you put your head back into your arms. His casts downward as he thinks; he’s not sure how to broach this topic with you. But he sees what Neytiri sees; that brief moment of eye contact speaks volumes beyond words.

“Listen, [Y/N], your mother and I…We’re worried about you,” he starts off and puts an arm around you, pulling you into a side embrace. When you don’t say anything, he continues.

“You haven’t been eating properly. You don’t look as happy as you usually do. And you haven’t been sleeping properly either. What’s wrong kiddo? Tell your dear old Dad so he can make it better babygirl.”

You could almost cry from such words. But you are still afraid. Even if you do not dream, you still see those bleeding eyes. Red as blood, blacker than night. Even in your mind’s eye do they bore into your soul. Taking you apart piece by piece.

When you don’t say anything, you feel your father gently move your arms away and lift your head with both hands cradling your face. Glossy vermillion eyes meets that of lliquid gold. There is no judgement there. He is drenched in understanding. Your will shatters and you weep openly.

Instantly you are pulled into his lap, your head resting on his chest listening to rhythmic sound of his heartbeat. A strong heart. He rubs soothing patterns on your back as he holds you; gently shushing you with promised whispers of assurance. Your crying does eventually does subside, the catharsis of it all washing over you.

“Feel better?” You nod in response and move back to sit beside him, wiping the streaks from your face.

“You feeling up to tell me what’s been bothering you? Did something happen? Did…someone do something to you?”

You shake your head.

“No, no. No one did anything…But something did happen. You’ll probably think I’m crazy. Letting a dream—a nightmare make me feel like this.”

“[Y/N] I would never call you crazy, at least not to your face—” the jab is so unexpected he successfully rips a snort from you and you shove him playfully.

“Ha-ha you are so very funnyyyy” you droll at him.

“Heh, it worked didn’t it? Sorry don’t mean to derail. But I’m happy to see you smile, even just a little…I’m serious though [Y/N]; I won’t think you’re crazy. I’m your Dad, I love you unconditionally. And let’s not forget, this isn’t my original body? It’s a mix of Sky People, who I used to be, and Na’vi, which I now inhabit thanks to this here big ol’ magic spirit tree. Now that’s crazy to think about. So I promise sweetheart, you can talk to me about anything, and I won’t think you’re crazy.”

You smile and take a deep calming breath.

You explain to your father about the last dream you had. Something deep in you, rooted in the very core of your being, demands you omit your human companion. You speak of walking through the great forests of Pandora. The song of Eywa guiding you. You talk of coming upon the great Hometree of time passed. How it stood tall and proud, reverent are you to behold its splendour. You speak then, of the hook, the pain. To be pulled around and fall. The screaming till your throat hurts. Then suddenly having no mouth with which to scream.

And the eyes.

So many eyes.

They did not blink. Their gaze did not shift. Ever bleeding, so did they spread, the black sky awash in crimson. You speak of clawing your own skin in the dream, only to find the same marks marring your arms in the wake. You hid these carefully with wrappings, made it look as though you were simply adding to your clothing.

“It…it didn’t feel like a dream, Dad. It felt real. Like I was really there. Trapped. I couldn’t move I was so scared. And I couldn’t scream. All I could do was look back into those terrible eyes...” You wipe away a tear threatening to fall.

Jake is filled with trepidation. Initially he thought maybe you were upset about something simple, like the hardships you know you’ll face if you pursue being a hunter of the clan, or maybe you were just confused about where your place was in the clan. But this, something almost spiritual, he is unprepared for. He exhales a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, and places a comforting hand upon your back.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone, you must have felt so scared.”

You nod at his words.

“Listen, even back on Earth, people had scary dreams, nightmares even. Saw it a lot actually. You remember? I was a soldier, a warrior, back on Earth. And the fighting, the wars, it changes people. Lot of my brothers and sisters in arms spoke of seeing things they couldn’t explain. But it does help, if you talk to someone. Now, you obviously can talk to me, any time any place; just say the word.

Though I gotta be honest kid, I don’t know just how much help I’ll be, but I’ll do my damnest to help.  But if I can give you some advice, I think you should talk to your Grandmother. She is your Tsahik, and I feel like she’d be better suited to this kinda stuff. Maybe Eywa can help? You tried…?” he holds a tendril of The Tree in his hand. You shake your head.

“Okay, let’s go.”

“Hmmno. Was too scared.” He nods and moves to stand. If you were too scared, he won't force you. When he’s up, he turns and holds out his hand to you.

“Alright then. Come on kid, let’s go see Mo’at, yeah?” A beat passes as you stare at the hand in front of you. You look up and when you see the soft expression of your father, you are filled with a determination you didn’t think possible. You take his hand and rise to your feet.

----

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

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Me as I'm writing being like, 'Oh, so that's what we're doing today huh? That's how its gonna be??'

when fanfic authors say that they don’t decide what happens in the story that the characters make the decisions i imagine it like this:

writer: *sitting down* type type type type *squinting at the screen* type type type

writer: *gasp* WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT…… type type type

Lmao yay~

What Do I Tell My Friends Family? Pt. 2

word count: 4662

Pairing: Recom! Miles! Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi! Reader Tags/Warnings: Non-con, slight torture mentioned, smut, blow job, mouth fucking, threats of violence, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, NSFW, degradation, dark themes, hurt no comfort Author's Notes: Aye yo wtf, this was suppose to be a one-shot! XD Some have asked for a continuation, so I have provided! Wanted to get this out on Valentines Day, though that has since passed here. Would have been out sooner but, Cyclone Gabrielle had other plans! Anyway please enjoy. Might make a part 3 for something softer. Apologies for any grammatical errors!

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*by clicking keep reading you understood the contents there within*

Pain.

That is the first thing that you register; a dull throb to the back of your head. You grown at the feeling. Slowly do your eyes flutter open, the sting of light assaults you.

When finally do you adjust to the brightness, you take stock of your surroundings.

White.

The walls. The ceiling. The floor. Where the fuck are you?

You realise you are on the floor. You move to sit up, but you find your hands are bound tight behind you. So it with great effort you that manage to push yourself up into a sitting position, back pressed against the wall behind you.

You gaze around the room. In the centre there is a thick metal table. No chairs. To your left, a bed that would be far too small for your frame. Clearly you are in a human facility. But you do not recognise this interior to be that of Hell’s Gate.

Shit.

Despite the painful throb, you attempt to recount your steps up until this point.

---

Your siblings; Eywa bless them all, but by the Great Mother did they infuriate you. For some unfathomable reason, the little entourage, sans Neteyam, thought to disobey the rules and explore the old battle site. There they happened upon a group of Avatars, decked out in full gear, carrying ARs.

Lo’ak calls it in. Father instructed him to retreat.

You arrived at eclipse, alongside your parents and Neteyam, leaving him with the ikran. You find your siblings captured and in the clutches of these Avatars. There would be no way to rescue them without bloodshed.

Your mother lets loose the first arrow, a clean headshot, and all hell breaks loose in a hail of gunfire. In the scuffle you manage to find Kiri and Spider, leading them away as fast as you can.

But an explosion goes off behind all of you, and though you and Kiri keep balance, you see Spider fall. The two of you yell out to him. Without so much as a second thought, you dove. You clutched his body to yours, wrapping yourself around him as the two of you fell, lessening the impact it would have on him, hoping you have protected his mask.

You hit your head on several tree branches on the way down. With a painful thud you land on the ground. There is a loud ringing in your ear. You think you can hear Spider’s muffled voice yelling your name, screaming perhaps. You can’t concentrate. There is only pain. There is only the ringing.

You faintly register the feeling of being lifted. There is a light, blinding in your eyes, coming from the skies. Then darkness. Nothingness.

Then, you woke up here.

---

It stands to reason then, that you were captured by those Avatars. Fuck.

But where was Spider?!

Panicked, you hoist yourself onto wobbly legs, looking around the room you search, but he is not here. You pull on the bindings in frustration, but it is of little use; they are wound tight.

You turn around and are met with your own reflection. You notice your head’s been wrapped in some gauze; you must’ve hit your head pretty hard. You look at the bindings on your wrist, orange, ones you haven’t seen before. A nice new gift from the Sky People.

Suddenly your ears pick up a soft swoosh of a sound, and the door behind you opens.

Too afraid to turn around you stare at the doorway through the reflection.

One of the Avatar men stalks in, bending as he does to get through the doorway.

By Eywa’s grace, he is tall. Taller than your father, your surmise. Bigger too. Probably not a fight you would win easily, if it all. Especially with your injured head and bound wrists.

“Ah, you’re finally awake.” He says as he approaches you. You turn then, slowly, to face the man. You decide to play nice, for now at least. No need to get hurt even more. Lure the enemy in, strike when they least expect.

You look up to meet his gaze head on, and freeze.

---

That face.

That damned face.

You’re sure you know that damnable face.

But it is not possible. The man you know of, are thinking of, is most assuredly dead. For real dead. You’ve seen his remains, trapped in that machine in the old battle site. You dared not to touch it; afraid it would have disturbed his spirit somehow.

Oh Eywa, his spirit…

How long has it been since you last saw him? Three years? Something close to that you think. You would never forget that evening, that desperate evening, when you approached him. Threw yourself at him. And he caved. Oh sweet Eywa, he had caved.

You knew what you did was wrong. Guilt had eaten away at you in the days that followed. You knew exactly who he was. You knew of his crimes. Yet you did it anyway. Shameful. Disgusting. Monster-fucker, you bitterly thought.

The two of you never really broached the topic of his past. He had given you his name, and it was enough. You told him who you were, and it was enough.

You hadn’t known how to explain the marks that marred your body. You claimed to have fallen off attempting a trick mid-flight. A weak excuse. You can see it in the eyes of your parents that they do not believe you. Your siblings too. But they instead teased you, convinced are they that you must have been with someone.

You decided then, that if you should see him again, you must apologise, it was a mistake, shall never happen again, and to never speak to one another going forward.

It takes two weeks then, for a re-emergence of a shared dream.

You had been psyching yourself up for the encounter.

Except the moment your eyes meet, there is such an unbelievable swell in your chest, an almost immediate heat in your loins. You are beyond smitten.

You let yourself be lost in the feeling.

Days turn to weeks. Weeks to months. And every few days, you found yourself back in his company. Back in his arms. Sometimes, he in yours. And you love it. Guilt be damned you love the attention. The two of you figure that your body must reflect whatever happens to your soul in this Space.

He, tries, to be more mindful of the marks he leaves; but your people already wear next to nothing as it is, so it is a bit of a challenge. You don’t mind though, not anymore. Not after this long. It fills you with confidence, to know you are wanted so deeply, so readily, always.

You find you are able to walk pass those boys who had rejected you with a huff, a flick of the hair. Show them that they are unneeded, and that you have found someone else.

But such a time is not to last. Your family began to pester you; your parents especially. Father is Clan Leader; this you cannot forget. So for his eldest, his daughter, to have some sort of secret lover, he is not exactly keen on. They beg and plead, asking for you to tell them who it is. If this boy, ‘Ha! Boy…’, has accepted you, then they can arrange for him to be your future mate, recognise your future relationship in the clan. Make it official as it were.

You were relucted, obviously. How can you explain to them that you were having, relations, with what is undoubtedly their worst enemy, but also that it wasn’t happening in the real world?

Just when you were slowly coming around to the idea of confessing…it stopped.

Just like that.

No warning. Just complete, nothingness.

When a week had gone by with no Quaritch, you thought nothing of it.

But weeks turn to months. One month becomes two. Two becomes four.

And on the eve of the sixth month, you break. You break down, alone under the Spirit Tree. You connected to Eywa, sobbing, begging, pleading, questioning. ‘Why? Why now?’ If it was so wholly wrong, why put you two together?

You are met with silence.

Months then, turned to years. You never do tell your parents, or your siblings. Your apparent mood change at the seventh months leads them to believe things didn’t work out. It had been months since they saw you with marks in suspicious places. You are grateful they never bring it up though; but you can tell in they walk on egg shells around you that they know.

This goes on for about another few months before all returns to normal.

You miss him, of course. He had been your first love you think. Accepting your body as those boys did not. A freak to them you were. Big breasted and wide hipped. But to him—

“Ahh, you’re all freaks to me darlin’. ‘Sides, if you were human, with a body like that? Pssh, men wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off ye. Lord knows I can’t,” he had winked at you when he said that. That’s when you knew there was no way you could possibly stay away from this man.

But Eywa had other plans it seemed.

“You still with me darlin’?” Your reminiscing is brought to a hastened end by the man before you. He stands just before you, waving a hand in front of your face.

Shit. How long were you staring off into nothing remembering things?

You blink rapidly, then cast your eyes downward. You are far too overwhelmed to look this man in the eye.

“What do you want, Demon?” The last part you spit with venom. You don’t know who this is, but you hate him. Hate that he looks so damn close to your human.

“Ah, so you do speak English…” He takes a step back, crosses his arms and regards you with keen interested. “That was some nasty fall back there. Had the science pukes patch ya up real nice.” You don’t say anything in response.

“Spider tells me you were protecting him. Awfully nice of ya, considering he’s human. Stands to reason then, that I shall return that kindness. Be nice and all that. All you gotta do, is tell me what I wanna know.” He roughly grabs your face in one hand, forcing you to look up at him.

“Where is Jake Sully?”

“As if I would betray my family so easily, Demon! You will get nothing from me!” You all but yell angrily at him. Baring your teeth as threateningly as you can muster.

“Now-now sweetheart, there’s no need to play hard to get. We can do this the easy way. Or the hard way. Your choice. As I said, I’ll be nice. Once. Then I won’t.”

Fear.

Fear bursts through you. You look up at this man, this Demon, this monster and plead with your eyes.

“Please…don’t hurt me…Do not ask this of me…”

Loyalty, even in the face of danger. He admires that. But the soft approach, he’ll save for Spider. His not-son. For you though, savage daughter of that fucking traitor Jake Sully, he’s decided on a not so nice approach.

---

You don’t know how long you’ve been here. Hours? Days? Weeks? Time has all but blurred together. You have not seen the outside in so long. Have not felt the sun upon your skin. It is torture. But nothing, truly nothing, compares to that awful machine.

It pulls at your mind, the digging, cutting, searching. The feeling of a thousand metal spiders clawing into your flesh. Yet you do not yield. You think only of the forest. Of tall trees and swinging vines. Of running through the under brush at night when the world is aglow. You force your mind to think of Hells Gate. Of the scientists. Of the many humans you see mulling around.

Each time your screams fall on deaf ears, begging for the pain to stop. Each time you are brought to tears. Only when you start bleeding from your nose are you let free, returned to that awful white room. They don’t bother cuffing you anymore. You simply lay on the floor weeping to yourself till you fall unconscious.

You’re not sure how long you can keep it up. Sooner or later, you will inevitably think of the Hallelujah Mountains, of High Camp.

And where was Spider? Oh Eywa you hope he’s okay. If they put him in that same machine, you vow you would kill them all. Every. Last. Human. Avatar. Whatever. Anything breathing in this forsaken place was dead fucking meat.

Again you weep for him. You hope was safe and not scared and alone. You prayed to Eywa that they treated him with a modicum of decency, at least for being human. You move yourself and the oxygen mask they gave you into the soft bed, small as it was, a better comfort than the floor. You cry yourself to sleep.

---

It’s frustrating, Quaritch thinks. It’s been about a week, and still they have come up short. Even with Spider riding along, no progress has been made. It was difficult to even get him to agree to come a long. He had insisted on seeing you, outright refusing to cooperate otherwise. It was only when Quaritch had not to subtly threatened to return him to the science pukes that he relented. Still he demanded to at least know you were safe.

It took little effort to lie to the boy. You were technically safe, so long as they didn’t keep you in that machine longer than you could handle. You had a place to rest. Water and food were given to you. A mask too. By all accounts you were still living and breathing. Close enough to safe.

But you. Stubborn, obstinate, infuriating you. They had yet to break you. Their fancy expensive machine failing them at every turn. Quaritch stares at you on the monitors before him. He can hear you weep. Another failed round. He’s clutching his mug tightly. The General will be on his ass if he doesn’t produce results soon. He’s not exactly her biggest fan either. She’s got an arrogance about her that rubs him the wrong way.

It’s your fault, he thinks, as he stares you. Your fault, that progress has come to a standstill. It pisses him off. If you at least gave them something, anything, this would be a whole lot easier. He slams his mug down, anger bristling his nerves, ire ever growing.

“Turn off the monitors. Me and that hostile are gonna have ourselves, a little chat.”

“Sir…?”

“JUST. DO IT.” The human beside him jumps at his tone, hastily turning off the feed as commanded.

“Now don’t go turning that back on till I return. Trust me, I’ll know.” He fixes the man with a stern look before storming off to your holding cell.

---

You awake with a start at the sound of the door opening. You see the Demon step in, then touch the something beside the door. It makes a noise, and you are more than certain he’s locked it. Your stomach drops.

Quaritch looks up at the cameras, making sure there is no red light to indicate it being on. Satisfied, he turns to you once more.

“You know sweetheart. I gotta give it to ya, I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long.” He says, taking slow leisurely steps towards you. You bring your knees to your chest, pushing yourself as far back as you can until your met with the cold wall.

“But this can all go away. No more machine. I can get you outta here. All you gotta do is give me what I want.”

“I will give you nothing! Demon!” You hiss at him, but it is for show. You are scared, trapped with this man in a place you can’t escape. Too weak to fight properly. Without thinking, you spit at him, landing your saliva on his chest. Oh, he doesn’t like that.

“One of these days sweetheart, that mouth of yours is gonna get you in a world of trouble.” A frown adorns his face as he says this, looking at the offending wet patch before drawing his eyes back to meet yours.

“Starting today.” In a flash he’s on you, roughly grabbing your queue at the base. You yelp in both surprise and pain, hands automatically clawing at his wrists. He pulls you off the wall to the edge of the bed. He stands before you. He yanks your head back, pulling your face upward.

“You don’t wanna talk? Fine. Let’s put that mouth of yours to good use then, shall we?” The grips your queue tighter, the searing pain lights your nerves once more and you hiss at the feeling. Tears threatening at the edge of your eyes.

You catch movement on the edge of your gaze. With horror you realise what he is doing. He’s unbuckling his pants.

‘Oh no no no, please, Great Mother NO! Not this! Anything but this!’ Your prayer is futile as you watch him pull out his half-hardened cock.

Quaritch didn’t think he’d find your fear so arousing. But that pleading look you give him every time he sees you, he can’t help the bolt of electricity that shoots through him. Even now he can see the fear in your eyes, he can see you know what’s about to happen, and he reveals in the power he has over you. Doesn’t help that you’ve been walking around in that get-up of yours.

He noticed you, that first time he walked into this cell. You definitely were a half-breed, with those five fingers and toes. Even more so did he notice the swell of your breasts, the expansion of your hips. From the images he’s seen on the data pads, you are clearly not like the rest of your kin. Your portions are almost too human.  He’s not sure if it’s this new body, or the memories of the man he’s emulating, but God damn he can’t help himself.

The frustration of it all, topped off with your stubbornness to cooperate, stagnating their operation too boot, has all been building up. He’s just about had enough. This is all your fault. Seems to reason that you should be the one to fix it, he figures.

Before you can even begin to beg, he pulls out a knife, bringing the sharp blade to where he has your queue in his hand.

“Don’t get any funny ideas darling. One wrong move, and it’s bye-bye Eywa. Understood?” Tears silently fall from your eyes; you nod when you feel him loosen his grip ever so lightly. Seeing those tears sends a pleasurable throb to the tip of his dick.

“Good girl.” He lets your head fall forward properly facing him, he shuffles closer, his legs hitting the side of the bed.

“Now, do you need to be told what to do, or do you already know?”

Of course you know. You spent an almost immeasurable amount of time with your beloved human. He showed you things you never dreamed of, touched you in ways your imagination could never suffice. But now those memories were to be tainted, forever marred by the actions of this Demon. Your hesitation is noted, and met with displeasure.

“I ain’t got all day sweetheart.”

With renewed tears you sit on your knees, and take him in one hand.

---

Slowly you pump, up and down, from base to tip. It doesn’t take long for him to harden. The sight of your tears dripping onto your exposed chest spurring him on.

He’s massive, you realise. You’re sure Na’vi men aren’t meant to be this well-endowed. You’re almost certain actually, from the stories you shared with you by your friends.

He is thick too; your fingers barely touch when encircled around him. He hums with pleasure, tightening his grip on your queue ever so slightly.

You squeeze tighter, pumping his cock with more force. You hear him suck in a breath.

He brings the knife away from your queue to your mouth.

“Open.” He commands, and you obey. “Wider.” He sticks the knife inside carefully, pressing the flat side of the blade onto your tongue. The cold metal tastes awful, making your mouth water. He uses his thumb to pull one side of your mouth away, examining.

The sight alone causes a shudder through his core. You peering up at him, tears in your eyes, tongue flat, mouth pulled open, drool falling freely. Oh yes, he could get used to this.

He removes the knife from your mouth, back to your queue.

“Use that pretty little mouth of yours darling.”

Your lips tremble at the thought of that massive thing in your mouth. But what choice do you have really? Your lifeline is in his hand; quite literally in fact.

He moves your head closer, loosening his grip to give you some leeway. “Watch those teeth darlin’” he warns as you lean closer still.

Slowly you open your mouth, and give his tip an experimental lick. You hear the Demon suck in a breath through his teeth when he does this. You lick his tip again, then take the hold head into your mouth.

The Demon exhales audibly.

You swirl your tongue around the tip, opening your mouth slightly to ease the motion, all the while pumping his cock with your hand to spread your saliva.

“Hnnn—fuck. Keep going darlin’…” The Demon praises you. Once you deem him sufficiently lubricated, you stick out your tongue and proceed to take more of his cock into your mouth. You stop half way before pulling back. You bring your head back down halfway, meeting your hand that pumps him from base to midway.

You set a slow place, squeezing him as hard as you can with your hand. You can hear his laboured breath as you suck his cock with practiced movements.

“You’ve done this before have you? Fucking whore…Bet you got men just lined up back home—!!!” His words come to abrupt halt, followed by a gasp, when you remove your hand from his cock and plunge the whole length into your mouth. He wasn’t expecting that.

You feel the tip of his dick stroke pass the base of your tongue and tease the inside of your neck. Though you’ve ever sucked any other cock other than your beloved, back when you were still relative to his size, he was sure to show you how to take his cock without chocking. Seems those lessons shall serve you well.

You pull back, tracing the vein on the side of his dick with your tongue. You bring his tip to your lips and swirl your tongue around it hastily, before sucking the whole length back down your throat.

“Ffffuuuuuck—” the Demon all but moans loudly, hips sway slightly.

He throws the knife to the floor suddenly, wraps your queue around one wrist, the grabs both sides of your head in his hands.

He starts fucking you like that, holding your head still and he pumps into your throat with reckless abandon. He unashamedly moans, feeling the soft smooth slick of your tongue graze his dick, while his tip meets the inner walls of your throat.

You don’t expect him to go so fast, the intrusion at such a speed shocks you, and you gag unintentionally. This doesn’t deter him at all though, seems to spur him on further. Faster he fucks you, powerful muscles clenched tight as he drives his hard cock down your bruising throat. Each time he can see the imprint of his dick push on your throat and it sends a jolt of pleasure through him.

You look up then, glistening eyes brimming with tears, nose running slightly. Your hands hold onto his wrists for balance. His face is contorted into one of inexplicable pleasure. Eyes half lidded, glazed over, mouth agape, he moans loudly without shame. He’s so close. He can feel it. He’s teetering on that precipice of release. He just needs a little bit more.

One hand leaves your head. He reaches to your shoulder to grab the lines of fabric there. With one powerful pull the threads break, beads and other small trinkets go flying about the room.

You make some kind of shocked noise around his cock; the vibrations send pleasurable waves all throughout.

“Aaaaahhh—fuck yes baby that’s it! Let me see you play with those pretty tits of yours! Come on now!” He yells as he brings his hand back to your head, holding you still once more, resuming his brutal pace.

Timidly you bring your hands to your now openly exposed breasts. You cup yourself in each hand, squeezing gently, you start to massage yourself in lazy circles. You moan around his cock without thinking, the feeling of playing yourself sending a small jolt of pleasure to your pussy.

“Come on baby, come on yes that’s it, you’re such a good girl for me, my fucking little savage whore! Just a little more!”

You move to pinch your nipples as you press your tits together, and you moan a muffled scream at the pleasure lighting your nerves.

That does it for him. With one final powerful thrust into your throat, he cums. Hard. You feel the thick streams of his seed coat the inner walls of your throat. He pulls back and thrusts back in a few more times, filling your mouth with his hot sticky cum.

He holds your head to the base of his cock, your nose pressed against his groin.

“Swallow it baby…Don’t waste a single drop now.” You swallow, drinking deep. You give his cock a couple hard sucks, making sure you drink every last drop. Slowly you pull your head back, his dick comes out with a pop. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue out of habit. Quaritch would always inspect your mouth like this, make sure you were a good girl and didn’t waste his gift to you.

The Demon smirks down at you, his breathing laboured. He sees your tail flick behind you, only then does he notice his also swaying behind him with reckless abandon. He releases your queue then. You almost weep at the relief that floods you. Without a word he puts his semi-soften cock back in his pants, collects his knife and secures it back in place. He gives himself a once over before turning to face you once more.

You’re still sitting on your knees. There’s a thick blush from your tits, up your neck, and splayed beautifully across your cheeks. You’re looking up at him with glistening eyes, apprehension on your face, clearly unsure of what is so happen now.

He clears his throat.

“I suggest, you think ‘bout cooperating. Next time, I might not be so nice.” He leaves without another word. You’re almost shocked by the hastened retreat. When the door shuts behind him, you release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

You immediately bring your braid to you front and hold it tight to your chest. You’re crying is renewed tenfold. To lose one’s queue is a fate worse than death. You’ve heard the horror stories. The pain, the fire, the seizures. It is an unsightly thing. And survival is not guaranteed. Even then, what sort of life could you really have, without your connection? Without being about to make tsaheylu? You continue to cry as you rock back on forth, tail wrapping around you in distress.

You swallow your excess saliva, still tasting that Demon’s cum on your tongue.

Without him here, looming over you with the threat of danger, you come to realise an awful thing.

He tastes just like Quaritch.

You all but scream in frustration as you cry even harder.

---

Tag List: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @lvangel98, @rsclopez, @onlyreadz @manymaria111, @kristeen31xxx

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<previous chapter> | 2 | <next chapter>

What Do I Tell My Friends Family? Pt. 3

word count: 7589

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

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

<previous chapter> | 3 | <next chapter>

It’s him.

It has to be him.

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

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

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

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

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

---

He hates it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All the way? Won’t that kill her?”

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

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

---

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

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

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

Oh no.

No, no, no.

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

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

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

You don’t believe him.

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘You’re impossible!’

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

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

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

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

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

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

“ENOUGH”

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

He looks to the General, and she is pissed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

[Y/N]…

[Y/N]…

[Y/N]…

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

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

Sleep takes him before he even realises.

---

Quaritch opens his eyes with a start.

White.

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

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

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

A voice then, interrupts his struggling.

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

“My son…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Language.”

He rolls his eyes at the reprimand.

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

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

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

“Wait, did you say Na’vi?”

---

And then, nothing.

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

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

The minty feeling brings some relief.

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

In image of you flashes in his mind.

‘[Y/N]???’

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

He runs out the room without finishing that thought.

---

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

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

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

“[Y/N]…I’m so sorry darling…”

---

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

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

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

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

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

Did he bring you here? Where exactly is here?

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

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

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

You break eye contact and scramble for the door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah…that’s right.”

You kiss him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Immediately he’s back at you.

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

“That feel good?”

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

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

You can’t help but smile at the attention.

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

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

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

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

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

“Perfect,” he hums.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not on your life, baby.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me! Tell me how good it feels!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, husband?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And you believe him.

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

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

It's a work in progress ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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

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Every time I see this it makes me laugh 🤣