Me Going To Bed Every Night After Reading The Most Nasty, Sheet Gripping, Toe Curling, Filthiest Smut

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

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God DAYUM

Listen to me

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…"

I hope the bitter cynical lonely fictional character knows that i love them

What Do I Tell My Friends Family? Pt. 6

word count: 4003

Pairing: Recom! Miles! Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi! Reader Tags/Warnings: hurt, comfort, feels, lots of crying

Author's Note: Apologies in advance for any grammatical errors! Hope you enjoy this next installment :)))

<previous chapter> | 6 | <next chapter>

The weeks that followed could only be described as uncomfortable. Those of the clan gave you and Quaritch a wide berth. You did not miss their obvious sneers, nor the harsh whispers under their breath. Yet you cannot find it in yourself to fault them; such a reaction was more than understandable, perhaps even warranted.

The humans were far more courteous, even those with Avatars; but they too kept it to what was minimal etiquette. You noticed though, that they were far more cordial with the other recoms. You watched them converse with each other, animatedly talking about something or rather. It made you envious, a feeling you knew all too well.

Quaritch tells you not to worry; says it doesn’t bother him. But you wondered how much weight such words truly held. You’re thankful he and the recoms at least have each other, as bittersweet as it was. On the nights where you would eat dinner with your family, he and his squad ate together in one of their dwellings; the night filled with reminiscing of lives past and wishes for the future. Their revelry is downright infectious, and you often excuse yourself early to join them. It fills your heart with unbridled warmth to see Spider with them too. More often than not he would also join when it was just you and Quaritch alone.

At one point you had gathered all your siblings together, sitting them down and giving them a less graphic (for Tuk’s benefit) retelling of you and your mate’s meeting and eventual courtship. Your brothers, bless them, treated you no different, told you that they didn’t care and were happy for you. When you cornered them afterwards to speak privately, you wept and wept, thanks spilling from your lips over and over again.

They reiterated once more that they were just happy you came back alive and well. Regardless of the less-than-ideal circumstances surrounding your introduction to one another, and his sordid history, they were simply happy you had found your one true mate. Moreover, as far as they were concerned, if Eywa herself deemed it necessary to get this involved in your lives, then she must see something in him. If she could forgive him for his sins, then who were they to hold it against him? He paid his price in blood.

Sweet little Tuk; everything that had happened was perhaps a little too big for such a young mind, but you tried to explain yourself as best as you can to such a young one. She hummed in thought, called you and your mate weird, but if he made you happy like dad makes mum happy, then he must be okay. She was also the only one of your siblings that wanted to actually speak with Quaritch face to face.

You were reluctant, afraid of how mother might react. But little Tuk is rambunctious in nature. She barged in one night when you and Quaritch were having dinner with Spider. Hands on her hips she proclaimed with unwavering authority,

“If you wanna be in my family, then first you gotta apologize!” Her eyes were fixated on Quaritch, who stared back at her with shock all over his face. When he didn’t immediately say anything she elaborated further.

“That time…When you took my big sister…You and those scary people hurt us, and that wasn’t very nice…” She frowned at him, eyes glistening.

When you looked to your mate you saw the guilt in his eyes, how his ears flattened and tail wrapped around his waist. He got to his knees, tried to make himself as small possible in an attempt to be closer to her eye level. And he apologized. He apologized for scaring her, for hurting her. But most of all, he was so sorry he took you. He doesn’t give her any excuses; simply admits he did something wrong and was sorry.

She nods at him, but says nothing else; though you see the tightness of her expression loosen. Spider walks over to her and ruffles her hair which makes her giggle.

“Here kid, I got a little somethin’ for ya,” Quaritch says and reaches into his pants pocket. He pulls out a small wooden carving of a pa'li. He holds out the tiny figurine balanced in the palm of his hand. Tuk’s eyes widen and she grabs it with a loud thank you. She holds it up to her face, turning it around to admire it.

“You made this?” She asks, looking up at him expectantly.

“Yes. Your sister here helped me too. Made sure it looked right.” And it was true; you had spent many nights by his side, carefully instructing him on pa'li anatomy. You were surprised when he approached you and spoke of his intention to carve her the small figurine. He explained he felt inspired when you had offhandedly mentioned her fondness for the animal.

Tuk looks between him and figure a few times, then gives him one final once over before nodding her head.

“Hmm. I guess you can stay. [Y/N] likes you, so…And you’re Spider’s dad, and I like big brother Spider.” She smiles up at the aforementioned boy, who ruffles her hair once again affectionately.

“Okay bye I wanna show this to Lo’ak!” And with that she’s sprinted off before any of you can say anything more.

---

It was disheartening to come to the realization that Kiri was avoiding you. She didn’t outright ignore you per say, but she was always too busy or had other pressing matters to attend to; never was she free to sit and talk to you.

You broke down crying one night, alone with Quaritch. Immediately you were pulled into his embrace. His strong arms held you tight as he whispered comforting words into your hair.

You hadn’t noticed Spider just outside. He had come with the intent to eat with you two as usual, but stopped himself when he heard your cries. He listened to the words you spoke, laden with heartache for your sister.

You didn’t hear him leave either.

---

“You’ve gotta talk to her.” Spider finds Kiri inside watching her mother’s video logs.

“I’m sorry, what?” She turns to him alarmed.

“[Y/N]. You have to talk to her.” He pleads.

Kiri shakes her head at him and turns back to the video.

“I don’t have to do anything. Besides, what’s there to even talk about…” her voice travels off at the end, as if she was unsure of her own words.

“Are you being serious right now? Kiri…” He grabs her by the shoulders and turns her around to face him. She’s at his eye level from kneeling in front of the console.

“What do you want from me Spider? You know as well as I do what he’s done in the past. And she does too; but I guess that doesn’t matter anymore…”

“That’s not fair, Kiri—”

“You wanna know what’s NOT fair, Spider?! The fact that I have wake up every day knowing that the man who shot and killed my mother, is alive and well! And not only that, he’s mated to my sister!” There’s tears in her eyes as her voice rises; the frustration of it all bubbling over.

Spider can feel the anger radiating off of her, white hot and unravelling; a crescendo of emotion bottled up for who knows how long. The dam breaks and she sobs, fists clenched tight.

“So now, he gets to play house with my family, [Y/N] gets her Eywa-given mate, and you get your dad back! And what do I get? NOTHING!”

Spider flinches when she screams.

“What happened to ‘us orphans have to stick together’…? Am I going to lose you too…?” Spider’s eyes grow wide at her admission. Her fears laid out before him; she felt as though she was losing her family to Quaritch? Was she blind? He hates that she’s feeling like this, wishing he knew how to make it all go away. But at the same time, he can’t help but feel his own bout of anger and frustration.

“Kiri…You never were an orphan; not really…You know that, right?”

He looks at her with a serious expression. Her lips press into a thin line at his words.

“You had Jake and Neytiri. You literally call them mum and dad. Me? Who did I have? Yea Norm and the others raised me; but no one was really my parent…Norm was more like a big brother. And I’m not blind or stupid Kiri; your folks never considered me part of the family. Only you guys did…”

She knows all too well what her parents think of Spider. Mother was not as subtle as she thought she was. Father at least treated him well, but there was still this disconnection from Spider being human.

As they stared at one another, it became clear to both of them that there was perhaps a lot of hurt left yet to heal.

---

Despite the passage of time, you have yet to properly speak with your mother. Words left unspoken causing a rift to form between you two. Small at first, you feel the cracks forming as it has been left to sit and fester. She treats you with the same love and care you have always known, but something has undoubtedly changed. It’s there, behind a lingering gaze, the hesitance of touch, the near imperceivable sharp intake of breath, but with no words that follow.

The tension at dinner time is thick, near palpable. Your brothers try their best to fill the awkward silence with pleasant conversation, driving it as far from the topic of your mate as possible. Kiri obviously says nothing, much to your disappointment. Mother smiles but it does not reach her eyes.

When you eventually muster up the courage to speak with Mo’at, you are surprised; you had expected her to be just as, if not more, against it all as mother. But she is pragmatic, understanding that this providence cannot be ignored. Her unique spiritual bond with Eywa allowed a deeper understanding into the intricacies of the Great Mother’s Will. Though she would not forgive him any time soon, she would at least accept his place among her family and her People; if this was Her Way, the so it must Be. She didn’t have to like it, but she did have to respect it.

You asked her how best to approach your own mother. She tells you that you must speak from the heart, but be open to the idea that Neytiri may never accept things as they are. She is not Tsahik and never will be. Though she has great love for Eywa, this hurt cuts far deeper than you may yet understand. She says that Neytiri perhaps needs to commune with her father’s spirit and seek out his guidance. Perhaps even from Eywa herself.

You nod and thank her for speaking with you. You turn to leave but she stops you with a hand on your shoulder. When you turn back around she pulls you into a warm hug. She tells you everything will be okay; Eywa has deigned it so. That she is sorry you have suffered such hardship, but she knows you are strong and capable, and will get through this one way or another.

You cry shamelessly into her embrace for a long while.

---

When next to happen to find yourself alone in the company of your father, you fix him with a question that has been plaguing your mind.

“You know…I’m surprised you’re not as, angry, as mother is about all this.” You watch his face trying to gauge his reaction. His countenance is thoughtful though a scowl does form. He schools his expression quickly.

“Trust me kid; I am.” There is an underlying bitterness in his words that leaves you with an uncomfortable clench in your stomach.

“But…Eywa accepted me and forgave me for my part in the destruction of Home Tree and everything after that. She came to our aid when shit hit the fan, helping us drive back the RDA. She’s done a lot for me and our family. And if what Quaritch says is true, that our Avatar bodies only work because she allows them to? Then I got a helluva lot more to be grateful for. I wouldn’t have Neytiri, Mo’at, your siblings, the clan, or you for that matter.”

Your lips quiver with the strain to not cry. It becomes nigh impossible with the way father is smiling down at you. He places both hands on your shoulders.

“I took a lot from Pandora…But you and your siblings? You guys are the one good thing I put in.” You heart swells and you lose your battle to not cry. When Jake sees your tears he pulls you in, rubbing your back soothingly as you weep.

“No matter how grown up you get, you’ll always be my baby girl…It’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

You sniffle as you try to calm yourself. You are a little fed up with all the crying you’ve been doing lately.

“How can you be so sure?” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Call it a father’s intuition.” This time, you return his smile.

---

Tonight finds you in the arms of your husband. The two of you are deep within the forest, somewhere far from High Camp and Bridgehead. You found a secluded perch on which to lay and watch Eywa paint the sky in brilliant starlight. Your snuggled into his side, head resting on his broad chest. You listen to calm rhythmic beating of his heart. It comforts you.

His arm encloses you, pressing you tightly to him. Your hands, fingers entwined, rest atop where his heart is.

“What’s going on through that pretty little head of yours?” His voice draws you in, pulling your lazy gaze from the sky and to his face. There is a warmth in his eyes, a kind curiosity. He brings your hand up and presses a kiss to your knuckles. You loved it when he was soft and gentle. Though you were, of course, eager and willing for his rougher ministrations when the mood struck.

You smile softly and hum in response.

“Hmmm. Just thinking about how much I love you.”

You are rewarded with the goofiest smile you’ve ever seen adorn his handsome face. Sometimes it feels as though he could never get used to your declarations of love and affection. You wonder if he was starved of such a thing. The thought baffles you, as your people loved freely and were not ashamed to express such feelings to friends and family.

You don’t dwell on it though; resolving to smother him with everything he may or may not have been denied all his life.

You move yourself off his chest but don’t untangle your hand from his. Instead, you lay on your back and pull him as you do. Miles follows, moving himself above you; caging you in between his arms, his face mere inches from yours.

You stare at him; studying. You take note of every luminous freckle, the strength of his cheek bones, the grooves of his nose, the breadth of his jaw. Your hand moves to his face and cups his cheek. His skin is warm to the touch. Your thumb traces the lines of his lips. He closes his eyes and leans into your hand.

When he looks at you once more with a half-lidden gaze, lovesick and smiling, it stirs something deep within you. The flicker of a flame comes to life, its warmth all encompassing. That look of reverence on his face; you never want to stop. Not in this lifetime or the next.

You resolve to protect that smile by any means necessary.

---

The two of you weren’t in your tent this morning, and Neytiri huffs in frustration. After much talks with Jake, communing with Eywa, she had finally decided to try talking with you once more. The next morning of course. But much to her dismay, no one was at the tent when she called. She saw no one inside when she quickly looked inside, but did not linger as it smelt far too much like The Demon.

She cusses under her breath. She knows she’s going to have to get out of the habit of calling him that. Start addressing him by his name.

Unsure of where the two of you might be, she makes her way back to her own dwelling. Jake is there, cleaning one of his guns. He looks up when he hears her familiar footfalls.

“That was quick,” he says, a confused look on his face.

“They weren’t there.”

“Oh. Maybe one of the kids saw em’.”

She nods and sets out to find her other children.

---

Alas, it would prove futile; none of the others had seen either of you since the night before, when you had told Spider you and Quaritch were going out to watch the stars.

Speaking of Spider, where was he? If anyone was going to know where you two were, it’d be him.

Neytiri makes her way over to the scientist buildings; if he wasn’t with her children, he more than likely would be here.

She enters the one housing Grace’s Avatar, and finds Norm up and about, not yet in his Avatar. He turns and is surprised to see her of all people, rather than her kids, enter. Still, he is happy to see her all the same.

“Neytiri? Oel ngati kameie! What brings you here?”

“Oel ngati kameie, Norm. Have you seen Spider? Or [Y/N]?” She smiles and greets him with equal enthusiasm. His expression becomes perturbed at the question though.

“No sorry, haven’t seen Spider since…Huh. Actually the day before yesterday? Thought he was staying with [Y/N] and Quaritch.”

Neytiri’s stomach drops at the notion. Has no one really seen either of you three for the passed two days? And no one said anything? What kind of mother was she then, to not notice?? Her mind starts racing, but she takes a deep breath; calming herself before she spiraled out of control. There was no need to overthink; you may have simply been too busy.

“Have you tried asking the other recoms? I’m sure one of them must’ve seen em’ at some point.” She nods at him; it was a good place to continue.

“I have not. Thank you Norm. I shall go see them.”

Briskly she leaves, not another word said; far too eager to find you as soon as possible.

---

She eventually finds the three of them conversing with some of the other Avatars. She cares not for their topic of conversation, walking up and interrupting them without a second thought.

“You three.” She addresses them coldly; the others sense the rising tension and quickly make their escape.

“Mrs. Sully! What can we do for you?” The bald one, Lyle if she remembers correctly, asks her.

“My daughter. Have you seen her? What of your, leader, or his son?”

Instead of answering, the three of them simply share a look amongst themselves, before they all look back to her. The uncomfortable feeling is back tenfold. There is something in their gaze, an almost apologetic look in their eyes. She hates it, nor does she understand why they look upon her so.

“What? What is wrong?” She demands, the agitation ever growing.

Mansk clears his throat and steps forward.

“Come with us Mrs. Sully…And bring your husband too.”

Her stomach clenches something awful; her mother’s intuition stings.

---

The 5 of them congregate in Mansk’s private dwelling. He gestures for everyone to sit down, get comfortable. Jake too can’t help but notice the sullen looks adorning the others’ faces. Nor his he miss the nervous twitch of his wife’s tail. He grabs her hand and squeezes it reassuring. She looks to him, taking a deep breath as she nods.

Mansk re-emerges from wherever he went, brandishing a tablet in hand. He sits himself in front of everyone, holding the tablet for them to see.

“Here…A message was given to us, to give to you when you came.” He moves his hand and hits play.

Instantly you are on the screen. You are nervously rubbing the back of your neck. Quaritch is sitting next to you; he is leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees and fingers loosely threaded in front of him.

“Hello mother, father, precious siblings…” Neytiri squeezes Jake’s hand harder. She does not like how your voice sounds as you speak.

“If you’re seeing this, then you’re all probably wondering where we—I am…” You pause, hand on your heart and you take a deep breath to calm yourself. Neytiri notices then, Spider mulling around in the background. Back and forth he moves, as if in a hurry.

“I don’t know how else to word this, so I’m just going to come out and say it. I’ve left. WE, have left. Me, Spider, and Miles.” You glance over to Quaritch and smile, grabbing his hand in yours, threading fingers together. Your face returns to that awful tired expression when you look back to the camera.

“I’m sorry I did this without saying goodbye…But this was for the best. If there was even a chance, no matter how small, that any of you would try to stop us…Well, I didn’t want to take that chance. I’m so sorry, I really mean that. For everything…Father? Thank you for taking care of me. I love you, to Earth and back. Please remember to take care of yourself too, not just the family or the clan…

Kids? I know you’re probably gonna hate me for a while, leaving like this and all—but like I said. My mind is made up and I don’t want any of you trying to stop us. I love each and every one of you so much. No one could ask for better siblings. Please be good to each other. And boys? Start actually listening to dad once in a while, yea?”

You pause to wipe a few stray tears. Neytiri is sobbing quietly as she clenches Jake’s hand painfully. She doesn’t see him swallow hard the lump in his throat.

“Mama?” Neytiri sits up straight when you address her directly.

“I don’t think I could every forgive myself for hurting you. I am so sorry, more than words could ever express…You took good care of me, took good care of this family. I am proud to call you my mother, and no matter how far the wind takes me, I will always love you. I hope you can forgive me one day…” You gently place a hand on your stomach.

“I do not want to cause dissent amongst my family, or the clan, any longer…And one day when I start my own family, with the man I love… I don’t want them to feel like they don’t belong. So here we go, somewhere far beyond the horizon, to find a place we can truly call our own…” Your smile is bright and unwavering, even when the tears don’t stop.

“Please keep taking such good care of each other. Promise me you will. Sullys stick together, our family is our fortress, right? Well, these two? They are my family now, they are my fortress, and I will do what I must to keep them safe, happy, accepted...Whether or not the clan or some of you can accept it, know that I love each and every one of you, forever and ever…So until I see you again, May Eywa keep you all safe…Goodbye...”

You wave at the camera before leaning forward to touch something unseen, and the video ends.

Neytiri breaks down then and there. She falls into Jake’s arms, clutching at him desperately. Her wails crack her voice as she calls for you. Jake sheds silent tears as he holds her tight. He fights every instinct in him demanding he grab his ikran and blindly fly after you.

The other recoms sit and silence, heads lowered, as they take in the sight before them.

A mother’s heartache was truly one of the saddest things to bare witness to.

---

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