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The Lie Of Providence - Chapter 1 - Dreamweaver

The Lie of Providence - Chapter 1 - Dreamweaver

The Lie Of Providence - Chapter 1 - Dreamweaver

word count: 1257

Rating: Adult, Explicit (eventually) Pairing: Recom Miles Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi Reader Tags/Warnings: Slow Burn, Romance, Redemption Arc, Angst, Comfort, Family, Sibling Shenanigans, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Hurt, Comfort, Dreams don't make sense, Eywa is testing you and you have not studied (chapters will come with their own tags/warnings if need be) Author's Note: I don't know what I'm doing LMAO! I havn't written fanfic in over a decade?? But I keep reading deliectable Quaritch x Reader fics so I got inspired to try my own! I hope you enjoy :)

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

<Master List> | 1 | <next chapter>

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

The first dream comes when you are 6. The nestling warmth of your family is suddenly gone; replaced with a thick humidity. It clings to you, wrapped almost too tightly. Awareness seeps into you as you realize you are no longer in your family’s embrace. You’re somewhere high up on a cliff, and in the distance you can see a large Home Tree.

Is that the old tree of the Clan? Strange. You’ve seen the large fallen tree when your parents flew you over and explained a little bit of where your clan used to live. But this tree is standing upright and strong. It’s so far away though.

A huff to your left immediately interrupts your thoughts. You head quickly snaps to the direction of the sound and you freeze. A few feet in front of you, someone is standing near the cliff edge. No tail. No blue skin. And far to big for his height to be another kid. This is no Na’vi. That is one of the sky people.

Your voice is caught in your throat, you don’t recognise this stranger from any of the Sky People at Hell’s Gate. He stands with his arms crossed and back to you. His hair is as white as your skin, while his skin is dark as though he’d been out in the sun far too long.

“That is one big damn tree.” You hear him say though the words have no meaning to you. Deciding you’d rather be anywhere but here you attempt so silently back away.

However, in your retreat you happen to knock a few stray pebbles abound. The sound attracts the man’s attention, and with a quickness you weren’t expecting he’s turned to look behind him.

Your eyes meet instantly as he says, “Who the hell’re you?”

And so you fall into darkness with a scream.

You wake up crying soon after; your cries alerting you mother and father and even little Neteyam; though he was more upset about the noise rather than you crying.

“[Y/N], my little atokirina, what’s wrong? Did you have a bad dream?” your mother whispers to you and she holds you tightly to her chest rubbing your back in a soothing motion.

You explain to your parents through sobs your encounter with the scary looking man from the Sky People. You don’t see the concerned look they share with each other. After a beat of silence your mother tells you not to worry, it was only a dream, and that she and your father will always be there to protect you. The Bad Sky People left a long time ago.

You fall asleep to the quiet lull of your mother’s voice as she sings you a prayer to Eywa for pleasant dreams.

---

You don’t see the man, ‘Human’ as your father explained was the word in the Sky People’s language, again for a long while.

The next dream visits you when you are 7.

You recognise the colourless expanse of Hells Gate. Maybe you’ll see Spider! You giggle as you run through the familiar surroundings. Maybe uncle Norm is around too! As you run through what you think is the right direction to where they may be, you realise that, there is in fact no one around. The entire base is empty. No Humans. No Dreamwalkers. Huh.

The world around you bends and warps around you as you move through area to area. You’re under cover now. The area is large and looks like it goes on forever in all directions. All around you see the weird metal Ikrans of the Humans. There are the big bodies some Humans like to climb in, makes them taller than Dad. The thought makes you giggle. You’re tempted to climb all over one when you remember your father had scolded you once for the very same thing. You huff in annoyance and continue walking in a random direction.

Your sensitive ears suddenly pick up on a sound. The clink of metal. The grunts of a person. Curious as ever you let the sound lead you. You come upon a Human, laying on his back on a very thin bed. He’s holding a thick stick with weird shaped black rocks on either end. You quietly watch the strange spectacle as he lifts the stick up and down, making the grunting sound you heard before.

And as children often do, you don’t think before speaking.

“What are you doing?”

Your sudden voice startles the Human. And with a quick huff he puts the stick on the poles behind him. Quickly he sits up and your eyes met.

Oh.

It’s that Human.

The one from the dream a long time ago.

But this time you aren’t afraid. You’re a strong Warrior of the Omatikaya Clan! Or at least, you will be; when you’re as tall as Dad that is. But for now, you can at least be brave! That’s what Mum and Dad say all the Warriors of your clan are.

“What the--? How did some savage’s kid get here? Get lost kid.”

Strange. He’s definitely not speaking Na’vi. But you most certainly understood him.

“You’re mean!” You huff at him and cross your arms. He stares at you, brows furrowed, anger evident upon his face. He sighs and decides to simply ignore you completely. Swivelling his legs over the side of the strange thin bed, you watch him grab one of the smaller sticks off to the side.

You watch curiously as he slowly moves it up and down in one hand. Was this a Human game? You’ll ask Spider and uncle Norm when you next see them.

“Is this a game? Can I play too?”

“No.”

“No it’s not a game? Oooooor no I can’t play?” “Both.”

“What is it then?”

“Training.”

Ah. You understand that. Training. The Warriors train. The Hunters train. You train, and you become strong. And when you are strong, you help the Clan. Keep people safe. You like the sounds of that. So this Human must be a warrior? Training to keep other Humans safe? The forest IS dangerous you muse to yourself. You conclude he must be good then. He just looks a little scary with that strange face you don’t recognise. And those scary scars on the side of his face. Warrior scars you decide. Just like some of the grown-ups from the clan!

“What are you training for?” You are curious if he trains to protect or to hunt. Maybe something else? Humans are very fascinating.

He stops his movements suddenly and turns his head to you. A pit forms in your stomach. You don’t like the way he’s looking at you. It is angry. It is not nice. It feels like he is saying you do not belong. It is a look you have seen before, from some of the other children in the clan. You don’t like that look.

He stands up, dropping the stick as he does, it makes a loud BANG as it hits the floor, making you jump with a sudden fright though you don’t make a sound as you do. You do clasp your hands in front of you, your tail wrapping around your leg protectively.

He’s staring down at you with that same, evil look. And when he opens his mouth…

“So I can get rid of annoying brats like you.” He spits out at you and suddenly, he’s lunged straight for you.

And once again, you awaken with a start and a cry.

---

Author's Note: Sorry it's a little short! I'm just testing the waters so to speak :P

---

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More Posts from Plzfeedmebread

2 years ago

An open note to readers of fanfic

Sometimes I stare at the computer screen when the words don’t want to come and I think, “Fuck, who am I kidding? This is terrible writing, and this story is shit, and no one cares, anyway.“  And I close the window and go do something else.

But every now and then I get an amazing, heartfelt, beautiful comment from someone who loved something I wrote, and it reminds me that, at least for that one person, I did write something worthwhile. And so I open the window again and I write one sentence, and then another, and then I start to find my way again.

So on behalf of all fanfic writers everywhere, I want to say thank you, thank you so much, to all of the readers who take the time to leave a comment and tell us that something we wrote mattered to you, that it brightened your day or made you laugh or cry or get horny or whatever.

Please don’t think we’re ever bothered by your comment, or that we don’t want to hear it, or that what you have to say isn’t important enough. It means so, so much. And on some days, it’s what keeps us going.

2 years ago

The Lie of Providence - Chapter 2 - Memories Glazed in Sunlight

The Lie Of Providence-Chapter 2 - Memories Glazed In Sunlight

word count: 1906

Pairing: Recom Miles Quaritch x Female! Sully! Na'vi Reader Tags/Warnings: family bonding Author's Note: Slightly longer chapter! Posts still not showing up in tags TwT Oh well, I'll still keep posting in the hopes it fixes itself! Just a reminder this is in fact a slow burn, so I would like to do a bit of world building. Help establish your place amongst the family and clan.

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

<previous chapter> | 2 | <next chapter>

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

It is when you reach the age of 12 that you decide these dreams are Eywa’s doing. They visit you in an unpredictable frequency. Whether he is a memory of a man long since passed, or a figment of your imagination given life through dreamscape; you are unsure, but don’t think too much of it. After all they are merely dreams, they cannot hurt you, right?

The man doesn’t say much. More often than not you two didn’t interact at all. If he sees you, he simply huffs in annoyance and ignores you. As such you simply observed him from a distance, hidden behind something or rather, as he performed whatever bizarre Human ritual he felt necessary.

Sometimes you go months without seeing him. But it’s happened often enough now you find your mind drifts to him.

You’re at the Tree of Souls with your grandmother, Mo’at, repeating after her as she leads you through a prayer to Eywa, when a thought suddenly hits you; ‘what if he was a human soul, and the Great Mother claimed him as her own?’ You stop in wonder at the thought. Would such a thing even be possible? Even after everything that they’ve done to your clan, would she still find place for them in Her Embrace? Maybe. There were plenty of Sky People who were good. They respected the All-Mother and all her children.

Spider was one of them – the strange boy that he is. You don’t know of any other human children on Pandora, and you think he must be the first to be born here. He’s only 7, the same age as your younger brother Lo’ak and sister Kiri, but by Eywa is he just as rambunctious. You love seeing him play with them and Neteyam too. Tuk is a bit too young, still a baby that one. But you have no doubt in your mind she’ll enjoy his company just as much.

Out of all your siblings though, you’re sure he’s closest to you. As the eldest, you naturally fell into the role of protector. And as far as you’re concerned, he’s just another part of the family, another little brother to watch over and love.

“[Y/N]?”

Your thoughts are interrupted by your grandmother calling your name. You realise you had stopped praying as your mind started to wonder.

“Yes, grandmother?”

“Tell me child, what is on your mind? You are distracted.” She asks you as she brushes some hair from your face. You smile at the gesture.

“Nothing is the matter, sorry grandmother. I was just thinking of my brothers and sisters.” She hums thoughtfully and pulls her hand back.

“You may go to them then. There will be plenty of time to give thanks to the All-Mother. But your brothers and sister won’t always be so young. Go and enjoy them.” You grin at the declaration and hug her quickly before immediately sprinting to find your little band of siblings. She smiles at the sight of you running carefree through the forest.

You have a pretty good idea where you might find them. There are a few rivers nearby that you all love splashing in. Sometimes Father will join, chasing all of you through the shallows and splashing all of you wildly. You love that game.

You make your way to the first river but do not see your siblings. You do find a few adults fishing though. You recognise one of them as Saeyla, a great warrior and friend to both your parents.

“Ah! Young [Y/N]! What brings you here? Here to help us fish, are you?” She beams a wild smile at you. You see a young initiate beside her. She must be showing him the best places to fish, and when to appropriately use a bow or spear.

“Hello Saeyla! No not right now. I’m looking for my brothers and sisters, have you seen them?” She nods and points to her left. You thank her and run off in that direction, bidding goodbye to everyone.

Once you’re out of earshot the young man chuffs to himself and mumbles,

“She still looks like a freak even after all this time.” Saeyla flicks him right in the forehead.

“Watch your tongue! In case you have forgotten, that is Toruk Makto’s daughter. Our Olo'eyktan’s daughter. Show some respect. It is by Eywa’s will that she is here. Or are you going to question the wisdom of our Great Mother?” She fixes him with a stare, challenging him. He stiffens at her look.

“Sorry Saeyla. I—I didn’t mean—” He stumbles to find the right words but she waves him off with a click of her tongue.

“Let us continue and pretend you said nothing.” He nods at her words.

---

Your siblings are exactly where Saeyla said they’d be. All happily splashing in the water; not a care in the world. You smile and sit on a nearby tree root, a bit out of their line of sight. Content to simply watch them. You’re happy to see little Spider here too. You giggle to yourself as you watch him playfully dive atop the pile of Kiri and Lo’ak, Neteyam off to the side pulling on someone’s tail.

As you watch them, you admire the gold of Spider’s locks, not too dissimilar to your own. The play with the threaded gold of your hair idly between fingers, reminiscing on the firs time you had met the boy.

You had begged and pleaded with Father to teach you the language of the Sky People. Reluctant at first, he figured it would probably be in your best interest to learn it in the end, considering there were plenty of Humans and Avatars left behind on Pandora. And to be fair not everyone had learnt the Na’vi language. He figures you being at the young age of 8, it’s probably easier for their language to make a lasting impression than adults learning Na’vi.

He relents and takes you to see Norm, though bi-lingual now himself, he’s not entirely sure how to go about actually teaching you the language. Figured Norm, the science-head that he is, would have an easier time. You like Uncle Norm anyway. He tells you lost of fascinating stories about Sky People and the planet they came from. Especially when Father is reluctant to share. You also find it very funny when he switches to his Sky People body; he’s so short compared to when he’s a Dreamwalker.

So there you are, at Hell’s Gate with your Father. Mother stayed behind in the forest, content to watch over Neteyam, Lo’ak and Kiri.

Father and Uncle Norm are discussing something, you’re not paying attention to their words. Instead you busy yourself looking at the pretty pictures in a book on a desk nearby. You pay no mind to the idle sounds of the other scientists nearby as the work.

However, your attention is suddenly pulled by the pitter patter sound of hastily running feet and someone yelling “Spider get back here!”

Before you can turn around, something solid collides with your legs, causing you to drop the book as you fall to the floor, the solid thing landing on your legs.

“[Y/N]!” Your father is immediately by your side, gently picking you up as he puts you back on your feet carefully.

“I’m okay Dad,” you assure him. Didn’t even hurt. You look over and find Uncle Norm similarly lifting up someone. The someone that collided with you. It’s a child. A Human child.

“Spider you gotta be careful, you can’t just run into people like that. Now say sorry to [Y/N].” Uncle Norm chastises the child, Spider.

“Sowwy, I ram into yoo.” He says, his pronunciation a little off, but you understood him.

“Oh, I guess this is the first time the two of you have ever seen each other. [Y/N], this is Spider. Spider, this is [Y/N]. She’s my daughter. Say hello, [Y/N].” It is your Father that does the introductions.

“Hello! My name is [Y/N]! It’s nice to meet you Spider!” You beam at him. You didn’t expect him to speak Na’vi. Uncle Norm must be teaching him. You think hard and remember the Sky People greeting Uncle Norm showed you. Ah, right! A handshake! You stick out your hand confidently.

Spider looks at your hand as if unsure what to do. He looks back up to your face with a slight tilt to his head, a questioning look adorns his cute little face.

You giggle at his expression. Instead, you gesture with the traditional Oel ngati kameie hand motion. Spider smiles and copies you, even if the way he swings his arm is a bit off. You admire his hair. It is wild and golden like yours, though yours is a tad lighter.

“I like your hair.”

“Fanks. I like yor eyes. They pretty like strawberries.” You’re not sure what that last thing is. But that sounded like a nice thing so you say thank you.

It is from this tiny interaction that Spider becomes enraptured by you and your family. He’s seen Norm’s avatar, and the ones that walk around Hell’s Gate. But you? You and your father are different. You live in the Forest. And Spider LOVES the forest. He wishes Norm would let him run around outside and explore. “Maybe when you’re older,” he kept telling him.

And so begins months of learning the Sky People language from Uncle Norm and Father, while Spider is taught Na’vi by the two older males in tandem. Every chance you get, the two of you practice with each other. You speak English to him, and he Na’vi to you. It is a fun game.

It’s been about 4 years since then, now you’re both reasonably fluent in either language. Spider though seems much more content to speak Na’vi and that’s fine by you. Your siblings were eventually also taught the Sky People’s language to make communication between Humans, Dreamwalkers and Clan easier.

You continue to quietly watch your siblings play. And yes, you definitely consider Spider a younger brother. You don’t care that he is Human. Why should that matter? After all, your Dad used to be human. And even now, you understand that his body is that of a Dreamwalker.

A gentle breeze carries the laughter of your siblings to you. Their song dances around you, and you close your eyes and smile at the feeling. You could almost feel the Great Mother in the shades of the trees; sheltering you from the harshness of direct sunlight. Though you enjoy the kiss of sunlight as it seeps through the gaps between leaves, leaving warm and soft patterns across your skin.

Deciding you’ve had enough of watching and want to play in the water too, you sit up from your tree spot and make your way over to everyone else.

Spider is the first to notice your approach; thought it surely isn’t hard to miss your alabaster form against the greens of the forest.

“[Y/N]!!!” He yells excitedly and rushes to meet you part way into the water. Everyone else yells your name in greeting and follow him.

“Hello everyone!” You greet back and are soon tackled to the ground by a horde of toddlers. You giggle at their antics. Soon you all resume what ever game it is they were playing, lots of splashes and lots of laughter.

You couldn’t be happier.

---

<previous chapter> | 2 | <next chapter>


Tags :
2 years ago

What Do I Tell My Friends Family?

What Do I Tell My Friends Family?

Word count: 5086

Pairing: HUMAN Miles Quaritch x Female NA'VI Reader Tags/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, rare pairing, possibly dark content, smut, adult themes, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, lust, older man x younger woman, under age reader (16), degradation, nsfw, dubious consent, dirty talk, orgasm, orgasm denial, foul language, choking, vaginal fucking

Author's Note: This came to me in a day dream. Listening to this song. Set in the same idea I have for Lie of Providence, where you're able to communicate with the spirit of Quaritch in a Dream. Though it's a bit different there. Won't be included in LoP. Have kept reader's appearance vague in some parts so imagine it as you will.

| 1 | <next chapter>

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

You shouldn’t want this. You should not be feeling like this. Oh Great Mother, the shame is near unbearable. Yet you are powerless to stop yourself. You want him, this you know. He is a man. Not like the boys of the clan. Immature, stupid boys who know nothing. No, this is a man. You have no doubt he would treat you the way you deserve. Or perhaps, the ways in which you want to be treated.

It started as a childish crush; a flight of fancy. A silly little thing you were, developing feelings for a man you only see in a shared Dream. You enjoyed watching him flex those oh so strong arms, the expanding of that broad chest with each precious breath. Each movement deliberate, no energy wasted in the fluidity of his being. He was taller than you then.

But time passes and it brings with it changes you weren’t entirely expecting. Becoming taller than him at 17 was a given. You’re almost 7’5” now, and will surely keep growing till you’re at least your mother’s height. What you did not expect however, was the swell of your chest. The women of your tribe you notice, do not have such large breasts. They are small, extenuating their lithe form, the agile body of Huntresses. But here you stand, barely an adult, with tits bigger than your hands. Your hips are noticeably wider too.

As time made you older, so too did it make you bolder. You care not if his gaze meets yours as you shamelessly stare down at him when he trains. You openly watch him do any human ritual, especially when it involves him testing the limits of his physique. And you notice too, how his gaze lingers on you. His eyes travel up and down your form when he thinks you do not notice. You eat up the silent attention. You sure as shit weren’t getting it from the young boys of your tribe.

Sure, mother and father tried their best arranging future mates for you. But every meeting of the family, you seem to be the only one to notice the boys’ upturn sneer. To them, you were always a freak. Proportionally wrong. A half-breed.

Your friends tell you not to worry about it. Boys are stupid anyway and wouldn’t know a good thing even if Eywa herself was prostrated before them. Yet you can’t help the jealously that rips through your very blood when they speak of stolen kisses and secret rendezvous. They do not make tsaheylu, as that is sacred and meant for their future life mate, but that doesn’t stop them exploring their baser desires with equally eager boys. And as the days to weeks to months pass, the frustration of it all builds until you are bursting at the proverbial seams.

And when the dam finally breaks, so too does your rational thinking. You are sick of your feelings being rebuffed by these stupid, immature boys. And you are equally as sick of this bizarre dance you’ve entered with Quaritch. If his soul is going to share Dreams with you, and so blatantly eat you with his gaze, then by Eywa does he owes you some actual attention.

---

And so tonight you are going to put your plan into action. You adorn the least amount of beads and thread you possibly can, barely covering your nipples let alone the rest of your chest. You wear a loincloth with a thinner cut fabric in the back, it easily gets eaten into the swell of your ass. You’re sure Quaritch is going to like that, if his roaming eyes are anything to go by. The final touch are some pretty feathers in your hair which you let hang lose and un-braided. You take your ikran and fly somewhere else into the forest; you do not want to be disturbed this night and Eywa forbid your family asks about what you are wearing (or lack thereof).

You find somewhere suitable to lay your head for the night, the flattened top of a nearby tree. Your ikran makes themself comfortable elsewhere, far enough to give you privacy, but close enough to hear you call should you need them.

You sit on your haunches and take a big calming breath. You look up to clear sky. Eywa has blessed tonight with warm breezes and a dazzling display of stars. The forest is alight with bioluminescence and it brings you a sense of comfort. And with that, you lay yourself down and close your eyes.

---

The Dreamscape too, it would seem, has taken the shape of Night. As you have hoped, you are immediately in a Human settlement. You think it is perhaps Hell’s Gate, but something is different. You cannot tell, but it feels different. No matter. These are irrelevant details. You are here on a mission.

You let pure instinct guide you into and through a building. You are drawn to him and he to you. Finding him is never difficult. As you traverse the halls, you are thankful you do not have to bend as to not hit the ceiling, though were you fully grown it would probably be a problem. You immediately stop in front of a door. He’s in this room. You take a moment to steel your resolve. You do not want to back out now. Not when you’ve already come this far. You take a deep breath, then press button on the side.

---

Quaritch finds it strange. To know oneself is dead. To be a wondering soul, bound to The All Mother. To say he was surprised to learn she was indeed real, would be an unprecedented understatement. Yet she does not speak to him. But he can feel her influence wherever he wonders. Most surprising though, is You.

By Eywa’s grace, the two of you keep sharing Dream spaces. He’s sure you’re not dead though your spirit visits him often. And he’s also sure of one other thing; you must be sweet on him. Never in his waking life, and apparent afterlife, would he have foreseen something like this. A savage girl, the daughter of the traitor Jake Sully, developing a crush on him.

It was cute at first. When you were small. But you’re not a child anymore. And he has, to his disgust and pleasure, taken notice. He thinks of the way you tease him, swaying your hips with purpose when you jog ahead so as to walk in front of him. That damn tail flicking whichever way to draw his attention. When you puff out your chest when you show him how good you’ve become with bow and arrow. Oh yes, he’s sure you’re doing this shit on purpose. And you stare! You openly stare, and when he catches you, you don’t even try to hide it. The audacity of it all.

He’s not even sure if you’re considered an adult by your people’s standards. He never once cared to learn about the filthy natives’ culture. If he remembers correctly, you had mentioned to him last time he saw you that you were 16, coming on 17. You were complaining about some dumb teenage boy in your clan. Something or rather about not finding you attractive. He let you vent your frustrations by manifesting an appropriate sized gun turret in the shared Dreamscape for you.

You mounted the machine without hesitation, and shot at nothing in particular. Your frusted yells drowned out by the loud rhythmic expulsion of bullet rain. And while you had your cute little moment, he watched as your supple body jiggled and bounced oh so wonderfully.

It’s wrong, he knows it. To lust after such a young teenage girl. But you’re not exactly human.  

He rubs the back of his neck frustratedly; doesn’t even notice he’s manifested himself in his old quarters, a place of comfort.

---

He tries to clear his mind. Think of something, anything else. But it all comes back to you. Fuck you’re a God damn tease. A succubus sent by Eywa to torture him. God dangling a piece of Eden in front of him, just out of reach.

What he wouldn’t give to bury himself deep into that pretty little cunt of yours, a hand grabbing fistfuls of your hair as you cry out in pain and pleasure. He wants to leave pretty purple bruises up and down your skin. Mementos he hopes you carry out with you into the waking world. He wants every one of those pathetic teenage boys to know who you really belong to. Show them how a real man lays claim to what’s his. Typical savages having no fucking taste. There’s a tent in his pants now, and he’s about to reach in and relieve himself when the sound of the door sliding open catches his attention.

Speak of the Devil and so shall She appear.

When the door opens you stop yourself in the door way. There he is, standing in the centre of the room. He’s wearing that black singlet you love so much; the entirety of his arms are exposed as well as part of that divine broad chest. The giant window ceiling lets in the natural light of the night awash the room in gentle moonlight.

You’re blushing hard, you can feel the heat spread up from your neck and dust your cheeks. There is a gentle heat forming between your legs as you keep staring.

“Well hey there Sweetheart. Now aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes…” Quaritch is the first to break the silence. His eyes start from your face, and slowly he rakes it down to your loin cloth and back up to face; not before lingering on your chest you notice.

“Now you didn’t have to get all dressed up pretty for lil’ old me—or should I say, dressed down?” You smile shily, brushing some of your hair behind your ear. “Come closer darlin’, let me get a good look at’cha.” He’s smirks at you mischievously.

You obey without thinking and step into the room to stand before him, the door shuts behind you instantly with a quiet swoosh.

When you’re this close, the height difference is a bit more apparent. His head height is perfectly situated at your breasts.

He hums approvingly, then gestures behind him for you to take a seat on the bed. When you, he standing in front of you, arms crossed on his chest. You bite your lip noticing the bulge of his biceps, your tail flicks excitedly behind you. He chuckles when he notices.

“Now tell me, [Y/N]—” it takes a great deal of willpower to stop the whine threatening to escape your throat when he says your name in that delicious accent. You audibly inhale. “—what exactly is it, that you think you’re doing Sweetheart?”

You decide you to feign ignorance. It is far too embarrassing to simply come out and say it. You want him to say it; want him to be the one to admit it first. He wants you just as much as you want him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Colonel,” you see the slight tense in his arms when you address him by his title; ‘oh he definitely likes that’. You place your hands in your lap, lightly squeezing your breasts together with your arms. You see his eyes shift down to stare at your cleavage, you can feel your nipples teasing through the bare fabric. He licks his teeth and you inwardly shudder at the action.

“Oh ho, I think you do, you little fucking tease. Now what I’m wondering is, does your Dear ol’ Pa know you’re here? Presenting yourself in front of the enemy like that.” Quaritch bends forward so he’s eye level with you. “I wonder how disappointed he’d be right now. Guess his sweet little [Y/N] ain’t so innocent after all, huh?”

“I do not want to talk about my Father right now Quaritch,” you huff at him frustratedly. You don’t want to think about your family right now, that’d be a sure-fire way to kill the mood before it’s even begun.

“Oh? Then, what is is that you want to do, [Y/N]?”

“You know exactly why I’m here Quaritch…” you avert your eyes, too embarrassed to make extended eye contact. You don’t see him lean closer, moving to the side of your head to whisper directly into your ear.

“Come now you’re a big girl [Y/N]. Why don’t you use your big girl words? Be a good girl, and tell the Colonel what it is that you want?” You audibly whimper. He moves to the front of your face again, grabbing your chin in his hand, forcing your face forward.

“Now I’ll ask again—What is it that you want hm? What is your plan here?”

“Eyes on me baby,” your ears perk forward at the new moniker, eyes immediately fixed on him. Oh Great Mother this man is going to break you.  

“I—I—want…”

“SAY IT.”

“You! My plan! You were my p-plan! It is you that I want! Please Colonel!” You all but yell when he commands you. You squeeze your eyes shut, the shame and embarrassment too much after such a declaration.

You hear Quaritch hum approvingly and can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“Well, aren’t you just sweet?”

His lips crash onto yours suddenly. Both of his hands are on either side of your head, holding you firmly in place. He doesn’t move at first, testing to see your reaction. When he feels you tilt slightly to one side and gently push up into him, he deepens the kiss. You’re a mess of teeth, saliva and tongue. Hot breath mingling in each other’s mouths. By Eywa does he taste divine. Better than anything you could have possibly imagined. Heat pools at the base of your belly. The tiny flicker of a flame come to life. You stupidly wonder if the boys of your clan are even a fraction as skilled as he.

“I can feel ya thinkin’ about something you shouldn’t be, naughty minx.” He says when he breaks away from you. He pushes your collar bone forcefully enough for you to fall back onto the bed with an oof. You lean up on your elbows to look at him at the foot of the bed, your legs planted firmly on the ground.

He uses his legs to kick apart your legs and stands in the space between.

“Let me clear that pretty little head of yours…”

He leans onto the bed, presses his right thigh firmly against your sex, his hands are on your hips holding you in place. A pleasured gasp escapes you, the sudden unexpected feeling of pleasure sparks from your core through your entire body.

Satisfied that you won’t move, you can feel him move his hands up the expanse of your body, thumbs pressing into you as he traces the stars painting your skin. Upward he travels till he reaches your chest. Your breasts are exposed to the open are, your meagre coverings having fallen wayside when he pushed you back before.

He delicately traces the glowing pattern of one breast, before he gives you a gentle squeeze.

“Hmmm~” you murmur at the feeling, warmth pooling at the precipice of your legs. He grabs you, one in each hand, and starts kneading you firmly. The rough callouses of his palm causing delicious friction upon your nipples. He feels them peak into his hands and squeezes you tighter.

You can’t help but moan. You’ve never been touched like this at all by anyone else. It feels nothing like when you do it yourself. No, this is so much better.

He swings his left leg over you, resting on your side, his right leg presses harder onto your cunt as he leans forward. He kisses you roughly, forcing his tongue into your mouth; immediately seeking you out to fight for dominance. You feel the slick of your cunt coat your loin cloth.

He breaks the kiss to plant kisses on the underside of your jaw. Slowly he starts licking the dots there, tracing down your neck, and he sucks hard on the flesh there, catching the skin between his teeth. At the same time he pinches both your nipples between his forefinger and thumb roughly.

“Fuck!” You exclaim loudly, the pleasure in your body starting to burn. Each nerve is set alight in pleasured brilliance. You body demands more friction, so you rub your greedy clothed pussy up and down his thick muscular thigh, drenching his pants leg in your juices.

“Aww is that all for me? Well ain’t you just a peach,” Quaritch teases you when he feels the wetness upon his leg. He looks down and inspects the darkening hicky on your neck. Satisfied with his work, and continues to leave more on either side of your neck. Not content yet, he starts leaving them along your collar bone. All the while you grace him with the sing-song of your voice, openingly moaning in pleasured ecstasy at his ministrations.

You feel his hands vacate your chest, his leaves a wet trail as he traces his tongue along one swell. He gives your nipple an experimental lick causing you to make the cutest mewl. And when he takes your whole nipple into his mouth and starts sucking like a starving man, you can’t help the profanity that escapes your lips.

You push harder against his leg, enjoying the feeling of his strong muscles rub against your neglected clit. The pleasure from your cunt and tits pool together in your belly. A gentle coil of a promise starting to form. The build up stops suddenly when Quaritch moves his leg from your sacred conjunction. But before you can even complain, you watch as he moves his entire body lower until his face is between your legs.

Your embarrassment is renewed tenfold. You lay your head back and cover your face with both hands; too bashful to watch what’s about to happen. You aren’t completely ignorant, your friends made sure of that, sparing no detail of their escapades.

You obey his command, pushing yourself up on your elbows to stare down at the man poised at your nether region.

Quaritch laughs quietly at your display of embarrassment. He unties your loincloth with ease. When he takes in the sight of you, he cant help but suck in a large breath through clenched teeth. The stars painted on your cunt glow brightly in the moon light, the nectar of your arousal flows freely from your slit. A Waterfall of Eden before him.

 

“Now that just won’t do Sweetheart. Eyes on me, I wanna see those pretty eyes while I eat this pretty pussy.”

He nods approvingly and lowers himself once more, his eyes never break contact with you.

You inhale sharply when you feel him flatten his tongue against your slick, giving your slit one long slow lick up and over your clit.

Louder and louder you moan, there is no need to keep quiet here; there is only the two of you blanketed in soft moonlight.

He presses his hands into the groves of your hips to hold you down as he gets to work eating you out proper. Up and down he licks between your folds, sucking on your clit finally, in between. He cleans you up good, drinking deep of your honeyed nectar you so graciously give him.

He listens to every keen, mewl and moan. When the pleasure becomes too much you’re on the flat of your back once more, eyes closed in blissful ecstasy. Each hard suck on your clit pulls tight the coil in your core, the fire burning brighter with each passing moment.

And just when the tension on your belly threatens to snap in glorious orgasm, suddenly the feeling stops completely. Quaritch having ceased his ministrations.

“Delicious, thank you for the meal.”

You whimper unabashedly, tears threatening your eyes as you look down at him with a confused lidded look.

“So sorry Sweetroll, but the first time your cumming is going to be on my cock; no exceptions.”

You watch with bated breath as he undoes the belt around his waist. Eagerly does he free his throbbing cock from the confines of his pants. He’s already so fucking hard as he starts slowly pumping himself. He sees you bite your bottom lip as you drink in the sight of him. You lick your lips eagerly.

He feels himself twitch in his hand at the thought of you on your hands and knees as he throat fucks you till your insides are raw. But he’ll save that for another time. Right now the sweet musk of your cunt is beckoning him, and nothing is going to stop him answering the call.

He gathers some of your nectar to spread up and down his member, before he lines himself up with your entrance.

He looks down at you, eyes meeting yours.

“You ready baby? I don’t think I can be gentle,” you nod in response. He rubs his thick tip up and down your slick, gathering more of your nectar. When he finds our entrance, he slowly pushes in just the tip, gauging your reaction. Your eyes close as pleasure assaults every nerve of your body. You feel your cunt immediately drench, excited at the prospect of being utterly fucked full. He can’t help it, seeing your face like that, hearing you sing like that? His resolve all but shatters. In one fell fluid motion he pushes all of himself in up until the hilt, meeting no resistance.

The suddenness of him, feeling his long hard cock stuff the entirety of your pussy, you can’t help the scream that rips itself from your throat. There is a pleasure you didn’t think possible, but also a dull pain from the sudden stretch. You can feel the hairs of his crotch brush against your clit. He isn’t moving though, waiting for you to adjust to this new feeling.

“[Y/N]…Can I?” He’s trying to ask if he can move in between laboured breath. You nod almost immediately. The dull pain nothing you can’t handle.

“P-please move Quaritch,” you beg and he hums in response. You feel him lift both your legs, holding them up at the knees. He pulls out slowly till the tip, then slams back into you.

“Aaah!” You yell in pleasure at the friction gracing your inner walls. Quaritch takes in one deep breath, and he starts pumping into you with all the force he can muster. He is not gentle. He leans over your body, pushing your legs up and apart, granting easier access to your welcoming cunt.

It’s all too much, all too good. The pleasure is insurmountable. Touching yourself will never bring you pleasure like this. Each time he slams back into you, he crashes against your throbbing clit; lightning sparks through your veins, each nerve ending singing a chorus of pleasure, your body is burning in the flames of desire.  

You feel the coil tightening; the build-up of orgasm approaching far quicker than you anticipated.

“Fuck—fuck you feel so good baby,” Quaritch starts praising you. Despite the size disparity, you are tight, perfect, made just for him.

You can’t answer him with words, the only sounds escaping your swollen lips are sing-song moans. It strokes his ego something deep, to see you like this; folded in half, hair framing your face like a [h/c] halo, your face dusted in deep blush. And oh, the faces you make. You can’t be this cute. It should be illegal. If this was Earth, it would be illegal.

But he’s not on Earth. And you’re not Human. Such delicate sensibilities don’t apply out here 4 light years away. Besides. Eywa presented you before him oh so generously, and it would just be impolite to refuse such a gift.

“Q-Quaritch—I’m—” You can’t seem to get the words out, your orgasm approaching without mercy. He knows it though. The squeezes of your drenched cunt warning him. But he’s not ready for you to cum yet. He’s got one more little thing he wants to do.

“Don’t you dare cum [Y/N], you hear me? That’s an order,” he doesn’t relent his pace, the bastard. You close your eyes tight, trying through sheer force of will not to cum.

“Y-yes Sir,” he all but growls the moment you call him that, and you can’t help but smile cheekily. You feel his pace slow to deliberate thrusts. He doesn’t say anything but you feel his hands remove themselves from your legs and hear him fidget with something. You open your eyes in time to see him brandishing his belt in hand.

“Now hold still darling,” he instructs as he, without question, ties the belt around your neck, wrapping the leather around his left hand in tight coils.

“Do you trust me?” he asks as he smirks down at you. Your hand traces the belt around your neck, and your eyes meet his. You stare deep into those blue pools; he is brimming with lust, desire, and something so much deeper. You can’t explain it, but you trust this man with every fibre of your being.

“Yes…I trust you,” You give him the sweetest smile you can muster, and hold your left hand. He threads the fingers of his right hand through yours.

He picks up his pace, returning once again to that brutal pace before. He thrusts and hard as he can, pounding into your cunt with all the strength he has.

“Yesyesyesyes!” You chant eagerly, feeling your orgasm build up for the third time. Without warning, Quaritch pulls on the belt. It tightens around your neck, cutting off your oxygen.

Your eyes widen in sudden panick, reasling you can barely draw in any air. And that feeling, the leather as it bites into the skin of your neck, the tightness in your chest at the lack of air, it is delicious. Your cunt squeezes unabashedly around Quaritch and he huffs with a smirk.

He lets go of your hand then, you bring it up to your throat, grabbing the belt to try and relieve some of the tension.

“No you fucking don’t—!” Quaritch pulls tighter, and with his now free hand, grabs a hold of your tail—and pulls.

Your shut your eyes at the pleasure, tears falling freely down your face. Drool seeps from the corner of your mouth hanging open. No sound escapes your parted lips.

“Such a good girl, you take my cock so well [Y/N]! No one will ever fuck you like I do! Don’t you ever forget that, you God damn hear me?”

You are unable to form any words, the only sound you can muster is a strained moan. Good enough for him.

“That’s it baby—FUCK—Take it all of me like the slut that you are. Throwing yourself at those boys, knowing full well you belong to ME!”

That does it.

The coil in your belly snaps violently, your pussy grabbing his cock in a tight vice as your orgasm wracks your body in glorious ecstasy. You ride the high for all you’re worth. The only sound your able to make is a quiet choke as you struggle to breath, eyes rolling back into your head.

Black spots appear along your vision from the lack of air. But you don’t care, your cunt is still cumming and hard, gushing relentlessly, bathing Quaritch in your heavenly nectar.

You feel his thrusts falter as you continue to squeeze him without mercy. And after a few final pumps, he cums with a load growl. He’s coating your slick walls in his hot seed. He pumps a few more times into you weakly, his hold on the be belt slackens, rewarding you with glorious air once more. You gasp greedily, taking in long slow breathes.

You lay there for a time. Drenched in all manner of bodily fluids. The smell of sex permeates your senses, and you blush, embarrassed suddenly by the activities. You feel Quaritch slowly pull his softened cock from you, the feeling of his cum slowly seeping from your slit giving you a dull pleasure.

Your hole feels utterly abused, but the pain throbs pleasurably, you find you don’t mind the feeling. You feel Quaritch untie and remove the belt from your neck. He hums approvingly at the bruise left in its wake and plants a kiss to your sensitive skin.

He moves up over your jaw to your lips, planting soft kisses along the way.

He kisses you deeply, you can taste yourself on his lips and it almost reignites the fire within you.

When he finally pulls away from the kiss, he’s staring down at you. There is something unreadable in his expression. He opens his mouth to speak. But when you blink, he’s gone.

The room is gone.

Instead, your eyes are greeted with the blinding light of morning; your senses suddenly assaulted with the burgeoning life of the day.

You sit up and immediately notice your clit is sensitive. You smile to yourself; your body must have cum while you dreamt. You stand and stretch, feeling utterly refreshed. You feel a bit bad leaving so suddenly, but that was out of your control. You’ll be sure to apologise in the next Dream.

You call for your ikran, and make the short journey back home. You are trying very hard to remember to wipe the stupid grin from your face. You make your way back to the family nest in the trees, grabbing the extra garments you hid near where you leave your ikran.

Everyone in your family is awake already. You can hear the sound of idle chatter and the smell of breakfast hits your nose. Good, you are practically starving. You don’t bother trying to be quiet as you make your way up. Just as you pull yourself up and onto the platform, it is your brother Lo’ak who addresses you first.

“Ahhh look who finally decided….to…” his voice trails off when he looks up to you.

“What the—WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR NECK?!” Kiri yells as she immediately stands up and rushes over to you, cold hands immediately on you, turning you this way and that.

Your neck?

Oh.

OH!

Oh no…

---

Author's Note: Thanks for reading!!! Hope it was to your liking! Apologies for any mistakes. It's 1am and I have working in the morning lmao TwT

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2 years ago

BRUH THE DOG XD

KEEPING UP WITH THE SULLY’S

LITERALLY CANNOT BREATHE BECAUSE OF THIS

(made by reytiri on tiktok)