Love, Love, Love. You always seem to be in a relationship—or you've swung to the opposite extreme, ignoring the dozens of people crushing on you. Venus here gives off a popular "it girl" persona. Even if you're a loner, you're a popular loner. People are your anchors; someone is always willing to help. They gravitate toward you without you asking, desperately wanting to be your friend. If your Venus is in Scorpio, you might attract stalkers. Association is a big theme here—people want to be seen with you. It's like being part of an exclusive club, and that feeling brings them a giddy sense of exclusivity.
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Venus in the 8th House
Someone call Mariah Carey, because "obsess" is the only word for the intoxicating effect you have on people. It's all or nothing—you can’t do things halfway. Everything must be done with passion and a certain depth. You could be a great artist with this placement. Heartbreak feels like the end of the world, as if a part of your soul was left behind. You feel everything intensely, which can make you controlling and protective, yet you crave a deep, merging connection. Remember: vulnerability is part of that merger. Until you let your walls down, you won’t be able to connect in the profound way you truly desire.
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Venus in the 9th House
You love learning. How does it feel to retain any and all information about the things you love? You have way too many hobbies for your own good and can’t seem to settle on one career path—because you could genuinely succeed at anything. You've been told you ask too many questions, but we both know that's a sign of intelligence. You’re meant to roam free in this world, connecting with people from different cultures and walks of life. You’re drawn to smart, knowledgeable people and could be called a jack-of-all-trades. You have an international charm; everywhere you go, people seem to like you.
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Venus in the 10th House
Similar to Venus in the 7th, but with a different flavor. People love you at work. They put you on a pedestal, see you as a leader, and come to you for guidance. You're the love guru, the best friend everyone goes to for advice—a true pillar in any circle. Make sure you aren’t people-pleasing too much, because in this dynamic, people are supposed to be impressing you. I know how that sounds, but it’s the truth. Honestly, you could easily be a cult leader—like, easily. People naturally respect you and seek your approval. The second you walk through a door, you’re seen as a figure of authority.
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Venus in the 11th House
Love is tricky here. You’re looking for a perfect diamond—something extraordinary. You’re beloved by your community and thrive on attention (let’s be honest). You might be seen as the "community who*e," but you just have a lot of love to give! Seriously, this placement can manifest as a player… until they find "The One." After that, they’ll use every ounce of charm, connection, and resource to make their person fall. Venus in the 11th seeks something utterly unique in love—even if they can’t describe it, they’ll know it the second they feel it.
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Venus in the 12th House
The final house of the zodiac. Please learn to value and love yourself. People may have downplayed your looks, or you might have felt like the ugly duckling growing up. People tend to dream of you. If you have a crush, you could literally make them fall in love with you in the dream realm—techniques like the "O method" are especially potent for you. You wield a lot of power in manipulating the energy of love. You’re a bit psychic, able to read a room's energy the moment you enter. You can sense when people are secretly in love. I need you to understand the power you hold. You encapsulate all the houses—a true powerhouse. Don’t let anyone get into your head and pollute your inner beauty. You are so much better than them.
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You're a sweet little spaniel cocker hybrid (ankle biter more like) and Owner!Nikolai picked you up from the pound for his boys. He figured border collie hybrid!Soap's hole could use a bit of reprise from the other hybrids incessant urges to mate. You fit the picture perfectly, sweet and soft, but enough of a challenge that his boys would have fun turning you into the little bitch you are. When he gets you home he takes off the muzzle even though you immediately turn to bite him. "Ah ah little thing, I know you are very scary, no need to try to prick me." He scruffs you with a practiced hand and carries your hopelessly limp form over to the living room, where his boys are waiting. Price sits lazily on the couch, Gaz's head resting on his lap, while a whimpering Soap is taking Simons cock down his throat. When they smell you their ears twitch and and eyes turn to you.
"Got you a little present! Don't go too hard on her, da? So soft." With that he throws you on the floor. You growl and bark as Ghost approaches, Soap with a wagging tail behind him. When you're backed into a corner the Great Pyrenees gives a short, loud bark to make Soap and his hard, leaking cock back off.
"Look at you, dove, no need to be so combative, we just wanna play, eh?" He pounces so fast you have no time to guard yourself. Within a matter of seconds hes above you, his teeth in your neck, his hard cock, still slippery and red from Soap's ministrations, pressed against your hole. You try, you really do, to throw him off, but his placement above you, the hard muscles you can feel pressing you down so firmly, the teeth that scruff you and the heavenly scent of him turn off your brain. You don't exactly go limp, but the tension bleeds from your body, trickling out through your cunt and making your muscles flutter.
Your eyebrows arch up into a grimace of pain, pupils dialating. You whimper as the bit of brain remaining inside you prays he doesn't notice that you're arching your back, presenting your pussy so that he can please, pretty pretty please, stuff you full.
At least he doesn't let you wait. When he pushes the tip in, your eyes roll back, cunt relaxing to let him in further and further until he's kissing your cervix and you're certain you can't take any more.
"Thas it lass, useless thing, aren't you? All eager." He slams his hips forwards with no warning, making you loose a breathless moan as his fangs bite down on your neck yet again. His pace is ruthless and hard, making your face screw up and tears swell in your eyes. All of a sudden, there's another wall of muscle in front of you, gripping your chin between strong, calloused fingers and tipping it up until you're looking into stormy gray eyes. "Taking Simon so well, pup, gonna let him knock you up nicely? You're gonna be a good girl and let him breed you, yeah?"
The German Shepherd Hybrid looks older than the one fucking you, you think dimly. And he has a funny beard. But there is no more room for other thoughts, when he takes your head and shoves it into his armpit, right where his scent is strongest.
His smell is so all consuming and undeniably dominant that now, you really do go limp. All of you. Your pussy relaxes, as does your bladder, spurting piss in rythm with the merciless thrusts of the knot that is currently growing bigger and bigger around your entrance.
There are no thoughts anymore as the two other hybrids start yapping and whimpering. There is just feeling, as the older males let them approach and they start eagerly lapping up your juices. The fight has left you completely when a knot finally, goddamn finally, pushes into you and locks you in place on its impossible girth. You can only twitch your hole and close your eyes when cum floods your womb as soft praise is gently cooed into your ears. You don't mind the hybrids rubbing their hot, wet cocks all over you, at some point starting to leak piss to mark you up.
You're content and boneless, surrounded by hard flesh and soft words.
warnings: lowkey toxicish!daniela because she keeps leaving you, smut (very briefly, mentions of moans and such,) mentions of blood, not proof read
author’s note: hi all!! surreal to finally be able to put my writing back onto here after close to around 3 years… my bad gang… but!!! these are a little something to help me get over my writers block and prepare you all for bmvo<3 watch out for next month, yeah? a special thank you to all the people who have stuck by me whilst writing this (ven and syth, you two are amazing and i love you both endlessly!!) that’s all for now!! I hope you enjoy <3333 this is also loosely based off of Chappell Roans music video for casual… so be aware of that!!:) sincerely, venus
The first time you met Daniela, she was easily one of the prettiest girls you’d ever seen. curls that cascaded down her back, the softest of voices that filled your ears- she was perfection.
well- as much as she could be. she’d come and go, like a fleeting wind. but you still let her back in, because why wouldn’t you? when she talked to you in that sweet voice. It was almost like you could barely function without her.
“I know I’ve been gone, baby. But it was only for a little, yeah? I’m back now. All yours.” She’d murmured, voice sickly sweet. What about her was so… enchanting?
the point where you found out she was a siren did not come in a very linear fashion. It had been strange , terrifying, and yet you also couldn’t bring yourself to stay mad at her.
She’d come back one night, mouth covered in blood, her sharp teeth poking from her lips. Her pupils were wide, almost taking up the entirety of her iris. The sight had your heart skipping at first, a small step back following as she entered into your home. “Baby… baby…” Daniela had whined, almost immediately pouncing on you the second her hands could reach. You’d never seen her like this before. So… desperate. Aching. You could vaguely remember how her tongue licked over your pulse point, with kisses that soon followed. They descended down your body, right to where you needed her the most. Safe to say you had one of the best orgasms of your life.
Daniela always left, in one way or another. after that night, the moment you woke up, you were alone. The bed was cold, a sign Daniela had left much earlier than you’d woken up. Your heart squeezed, though you’d been through it forever. It never got easier. Even if you knew she wouldn’t stay, you always welcomed her back with open arms.
Although she tended to leave, it wasn’t like Daniela never gave you good memories. The first time she ever took you into the ocean, she’d held you like you were everything to her. It was then that you believed that maybe, just maybe, things could work out.
Daniela has the sweetest laugh you’ve ever heard. Not to mention the fact she’s also extremely ticklish, and you tend to use that to your advantage when she’s around. All to hear her laugh again.
After learning about her being a siren, seeing her coming from the ocean covered in blood wasn’t such a shock anymore. It hurt to think about the fact that she was using her voice to attract others into the water, but what could you do about it? It was what she had to do to survive. She wasn’t human.
Most of all, she wasn’t yours. Not entirely, at least. Sure, she came back to you, but she never lingered long enough. It got you to your breaking point.
“No, Daniela, I can’t keep doing this with you! This constant push and pull, where you constantly leave me! I’m exhausted, Dani! To see you come and go, I-“ Your breath hitched, warm tears trickling down your cheeks. Daniela stood there, her own heart clenching as she stared at the damage she’d done. She moved forward seconds later, cupping your cheeks in her hands. They were warm, not webbed like they usually were from the water. “I’m sorry, mi amor. I- I’ve been so selfish, I’m so sorry. Please, forgive me. I’ll do anything for you, to keep you.” She whispered, lips leaning forward to press against your own. A silent promise.
That very night changed everything. Truly, it did.
“I’m sorry, mami. Wasn’t thinking straight. I love you, I love you so much, I really do. Gonna show you, okay? Promise.” Daniela whined out, her hips grinding sloppily against your thigh. Your hands rested gently on her waist, guiding her along. Sure, her voice was beautiful, but her moans were another kind of pretty.
You both came too many times to count that night. For once, when you woke up, she was there. Her hair, fanned across the pillow, her lips parted as she slept. She looked so peaceful.
Soon after, when Daniela inevitably had to return to the ocean, she’d always bring trinkets with her. Things like shells, or any kind of cool stuff she’d find. She made you a shell bracelet one time, slipping it over your wrist and holding it like it had hung up the stars just for her. It was then where she officially asked you to be her girlfriend, entirely sealing every little worry you ever had away.
With all said and done, Daniela did change. She became the best girlfriend one could ask for. She was doting, careful, caring, sweet. She was yours. Finally, she was all yours, just as you were hers.
a/n: Well… I hope you all enjoyed!! please send me your thoughts, and or requests if you want another one of the girls<3 thank you so much for reading!!
Alysa x reader and the reader is from Italy and is at a local coffee shop ordering. And Alysa comes up to her, asking for help on how to order a drink because obviously she doesn’t know Italian.
Hehehe I know who requested me this 😼
Ask and you shall receive my people 💗
Thank you for not knowing.
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𐙚⋆.˚ <3 Reader is Italian (which is like the storyline), shorter than Alysa, love at first sight ?
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— jeez this place is packed —
You thought to yourself as you looked inside of your normal cafe, You just wanted a (whatever drink you choose). You scooted inside going into a line, behind a girl with three rings dyed in her hair.
You went on your phone waiting for the line to at least move an inch, looking down at your phone to check the time.
— It’s only 10:34 pm ? —
You huffed at the thought of it being that early, when it got to the girls turn to order, you could tell she wasn’t Italian, or even knew Italian.
You heard her voice stutter just a little so you stepped up and asked her what she was trying to order.
“Oh uh… I was trying to order the brown sugar boba” she responded to you a little nervous, “Anything else?” You continued in which she shook her head.
(I’m not Italian so please if I butcher it…ignore it)
You looked at the barista and started “Posso ordinare un tè boba allo zucchero di canna? E prenderò un caffè ghiacciato”, the barista nodded, pressing the screen in front of him and asked “contanti o carta”.
The girl looked confused as you talked, “Carta” you replied and you paid for both of your drinks.
“I’m Alysa” She blurted out which blush made its way onto her cheeks.
You giggled softly and responded “I’m (readers name), it’s nice to meet you”, Alysa smiled softly as you said that.
“Thank you for helping me…with ordering I really don’t know Italian” She added as you two walked over to the area to pick up your drinks.
“It’s okay really, I don’t mind” You assured as she looked around nervously.
Alysa smiled softly as you talked to her.
— She’s pretty, maybe I’ll ask her for her number —
You thought to yourself as the two of you waited.
— wait what if she’s straight —
You questioned yourself as you looked at her, she didn’t look straight, but there are straight girls who look straight.
Alysa looked back at you and said “thank you for paying too, I can send you the money”, quickly she pulled her phone out to send you the money.
“Oh it’s okay ! Really I don’t mind for paying, it’s my treat” You reassured, she looked a little guilty for letting you pay but honestly you didn’t mind.
You grabbed your drink when it came then turned to her, “Are you single by chance ?” You blurted as you got nervous (who wouldn’t be, it’s Alysa Liu).
She looked at you with wide eyes and responded with a small laugh, “I am single, why ?”.
You mentally cheered and you looked back at her then asked the risky part, “Can I have your number ? I’d love to help you with your Italian and get to know you”.
— Please say yes —
You thought as Alysa gave an iffy, “Uh sure !”, in which you gave her your phone to put her number in.
After you two exchanged numbers, you had to leave.
“Bye ! I’ll see you around” you called behind you, Alysa watched you leave the cafe with her drink in her hand and the contact screen on her phone.
You guys are definitely going to see each other around.
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Sooooo rate the story ? Ignore how I butchered Italian…
I just realized I never talk about eating pussy on here??? I am literally an eater first and foremost. I eat pussy so passionately. I like to lay face down with a toy in me while I hump the mattress and get off on making my partner feel good. I'm not even in it to stroke my ego over how fast I can make them cum I like to draw it out. I'll edge them for hours just so I can play in it for longer. or I will lick and suck until I overstim them to the brink of insanity just because I'm really enjoying myself. Sometimes I do both in the same session. Eating pussy is so lovely.
The salt and burn should’ve been the end of it. But something about you, the flames, and the dying church...
Content Warnings: 18+ sexual content, soulless Sam Winchester, post-hunt sex, church setting, wall sex, p in v penetration, creampie, rough sex, unsafe sex, dubcon themes, overstimulation, multiple orgasms.
Word Count: 2,483. Read it on AO3.
Divider by @easytiger-xo💋
The salt hissed as it hit the flames, a final, sputtering protest from the corpse beneath the floorboards. Smoke curled up through the gaps in the old church’s stone, catching in your throat as you stepped back. The air smelled like ash and old blood. The stained glass above was shattered, moonlight pouring in through jagged color, casting bruised reds and golds across the ruined pews.
You turned toward Sam.
He was already watching you. Standing there, sleeves rolled up, sweat shining along his collarbone, expression unreadable, but eyes dark. Focused.
You swallowed. “That should hold.”
He didn’t answer. Didn’t nod. Didn’t check the bones again. Just took a slow step toward you. Then another. Your hand twitched near your weapon out of instinct. But then you caught the look in his eye. Not aggression, or even curiosity. Just need. Blunt. Direct. Empty of apology.
"You fight like you like it,” he said, voice low.
You blinked. “Sam—”
“Your heart was pounding. Saw it in your neck.” Another step. “Got blood on your mouth.”
You went to wipe it off, but he caught your wrist halfway. Gripped it. Something between hard and gentle, but utterly different. Then he looked at you.
Really looked.
“You want me to fuck you?” His voice didn’t rise. Didn’t change. “Because I’m going to.”
The smoke behind him rose like a wretched halo. You froze. Not because you were afraid. But because there was something in the way he said it. Like a fact. Like the fire, the bones, the ash was all prelude to this.
"Sam,” you tried, quiet. But it wasn’t a protest. Your wrist still in his grip. Your pulse thudding against his fingers. His head tilted slightly, eyes scanning your face like he was trying to decide where to start.
“You gonna tell me no?” he asked, sounding vaguely amused.
You swallowed, throat dry from smoke and tension. And then you nodded.
Sam’s grip shifted. His hand slid from your wrist to your waist—tight, anchoring—while the other came up to the base of your throat, not choking, just there. He walked you backward without effort. Boots echoing on scorched tile. Until your back hit the stone wall. And then he kissed you. Too rough for the first time. Just mouth against mouth, heat and teeth, smoke and spit. He licked the blood from the corner of your lip like it was fuel. And you melted. Because his hands were already pushing your jacket back, his thigh slipping between yours, his voice a low rasp against your mouth.
“Gonna fuck you right here.” His hands were already on your belt. Practiced fingers unfastening the buckle, yanking your pants down just enough to bare you. The cold stone kissed your thighs as he pressed closer, his mouth dragging down your neck, breath hot and harsh.
Your hands braced on his shoulders, barely holding on. Then the sound of his zipper. A low rustle. The thick press of his cock against your thigh, already hard, already leaking.
"Turn around.”
You hesitated, surprised at the roughness in his tone.
He spun you himself. One palm to the center of your back, the other gripping your hip as he bent you forward against the wall. The stone was cold. The soot smeared. But all you could feel was him behind you. And then—he pushed in. You cried out, forehead pressed to the stone, legs trembling from the force. He didn’t stop. Didn’t wait. Just dragged back—and slammed in again. Your cunt stretched wide around him, soaked already, walls gripping him with every stroke. He filled you completely, thick and hard, fucking into you like he had nothing else to live for. You moaned, raw and open, body slamming into the wall with every thrust. His fingers dug into your hip, pulling you back onto him.
"You like this. You like being used," he grunted.
Another thrust—deep this time. And you did. God, you did. You were soaking his cock, crying out with every movement, trembling from the pressure building sharp and fast between your legs. And Sam? He was relentless. The stone scraped your cheek, the wall too cold, too rough, your legs already trembling from how hard he was fucking you. Each thrust punched the air from your lungs: deep, brutal, your cunt gripping him but still aching from how far he had to reach down to slam into you. And he noticed. Of course he noticed. His rhythm faltered for half a beat, just long enough for his hand to slip under your thigh—then the other.
"Too short for me like this,” he muttered. “Not gonna waste good friction.” You barely had time to gasp before he lifted you. Arms locked under your thighs, your back slammed against the wall—this time upright, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. He drove in again. And this time—
Fuck. It hit just right. The new angle let him sink deeper, his cock pressing hard against your sweet spot with every thrust, the wall at your back shuddering with the impact. You moaned. Loud, broken. Head falling back as your cunt clenched down hard around him.
"Yeah,” he groaned, breath hot against your jaw. “That’s what I wanted.”
His hands gripped your thighs tighter, fingers digging into soft flesh, holding you in place as he slammed up into you again and again. The slap of skin-on-skin echoing off burnt pews and hollow stone.
“So fuckin’ wet,” he rasped. “You hear that?”
You did. Couldn’t not hear it. The obscene, slick sound of him fucking into you, soaking wet, your body welcoming him with every thrust. And he didn’t stop. Didn’t slow. Just grunted low against your throat as he fucked you into the wall like the dead church owed you both an apology.
Sam held you so tight your skin burned. Fingers dug into your thighs like anchors, spreading you wider around his hips, lifting your body into each thrust like you weighed nothing. Like you were made to be held like this—fucked like this. Your back hit the wall with every slam of his hips. Stone bruised your shoulder blades. Sweat and soot smeared your skin. And all you could feel was him. His cock—thick, so fucking hard, dragging through your soaked heat with every savage stroke. He filled you completely, forcing your cunt to open around him over and over, the friction wet and obscene. Each thrust punched a sound out of you. Moans, gasps, the soft crack of your head tapping against the wall. Your nails clawed at his shoulders, nowhere to hold on, nowhere to go but deeper.
His mouth was at your ear, voice dark and low and vicious. "Getting fucked where they used to pray. Bet you never pictured it like this.”
Another thrust, brutal, perfect. Your pussy clenched down hard. He groaned. "You feel that? How tight you squeeze me when I talk like this?”
You whimpered—couldn’t help it. Because it was true. You were soaking him. Your cunt was gripping him with every pump, stretched wide, pulsing around his cock like you didn’t want to let go. And he didn’t let you.
"Stretched open on a goddamn altar,” he breathed. “Or up against a stained glass window. You’d let me, wouldn’t you?”
He bit your neck, sharp. You cried out, trembling around him.
"Doesn’t matter. I’d do it anyway.” His hips snapped up again, deep, hitting the sweetest, softest part of your pussy so hard your vision blurred. You were already close. You could feel it. Pressure curling tight. Your clit throbbing, your body shaking from the weight of him, his cock stroking every soaked, swollen inch of you like it belonged there. And maybe it did. Maybe this was what worship really felt like—your body wrecked, pinned, trembling around something bigger than you.
Sam’s grip tightened, shifting to rub your clit roughly.
“Say it,” he snarled. “Say you like getting fucked in a church.”
You opened your mouth. You tried. But your body betrayed you. The words collapsed into a moan, sharp, ragged, torn from your throat as your orgasm slammed through you. Your back arched against the wall, legs tightening around his waist, thighs spasming under the pressure of his grip. Your cunt clenched down on him, tight, wet, fluttering in helpless pulses that made Sam groan deep in his chest.
"Fuck yeah. That’s it.” He didn’t slow. He didn’t pause. He just kept fucking you through it, each thrust pushing deeper, dragging the orgasm out longer, until your whole body was trembling in his arms. Your vision blurred. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, thudding wild and out of sync with his savage rhythm. And still—he held you there. Pinned. Spread. Wide open. The wall at your back. His cock buried deep. Your release dripping down your thighs. His teeth grazed your jaw. Your body was still trembling. Soft, wet, limp in his hands. Your head lolled against his shoulder, breath stuttering, pussy still pulsing in loose aftershocks around his cock. And then—
Sam’s grip tightened. His fingers dug harder into your thighs. And he fucked up into you again. Harder. Rougher. A snap of his hips, deep and sharp, making your back thud against the wall with a dull smack.
You cried out—high and broken. “Can’t,” you gasped. “Too—too much—”
"You can,” he grunted into your ear. “You just did.”
Another thrust. Then another. Faster now. Harder. Your legs shook around his waist, your cunt tightening all over again as his cock dragged against your raw, soaked pussy.
“Still fuckin’ tight,” he hissed. “Still dripping down my cock. You like this too much to stop.”
You moaned again—loud, wrecked, already overstimulated—as he slammed into you over and over, chasing friction, chasing heat. The sound of your bodies, wet, violent, obscene, echoed through the empty church like a hymn turned heresy. And Sam? His thrusts turned savage—slamming so deep you could barely breathe, every inch of him forcing you open, pressing hard into the same sweet, swollen place that had already undone you once.
"Bet I can make you come again,” he muttered. “Just like this. Too fucked out to fight it.”
He was right. He knew it, too. His eyes caught yours—dark, bottomless, hungry. And then—that look. A flash of something wicked. An evil little glint that danced in his eyes just before he leaned in and kissed you, hard and bruising, nothing like softness. His teeth caught your bottom lip. His tongue shoved into your mouth, tasting, taking. It wasn’t about connection—it was about conquest.
"You wanted this,” he reminded against your mouth.
Then—he pulled back. And slammed into you. Harder. So much harder. Your body jolted—back thudding against the stone wall, hands tightening on his shoulders. You almost screamed.
“That’s what I thought,” he muttered, voice tight with exertion, hips snapping again—deeper this time, brutal. “You like it when it hurts a little.”
Your mouth dropped open. Another thrust—just as hard. Your breath broke. Your legs spasmed. Your pussy squeezed him so tight he cursed.
“Fucking perfect,” he hissed. “I could keep you like this all night. Back to this wall. Legs wide. Taking every inch.”
His hand slid up your thigh—smeared in your slick—and he fucked into you even harder, cock slamming against the deepest part of your cunt, relentless and obscene. You weren’t even moaning anymore. Just whimpering. Trembling. Trying to form his name, maybe plead. And he loved it. You were shaking in his arms, mouth open in a silent gasp. Each thrust now felt like too much. Too deep. Too hard. Your cunt was aching. Every time his cock slammed into your cervix, your body flinched, spasmed, burned.
"What’s wrong?” he rasped. “Hurts too much?”
You whimpered.
He groaned, deep in his throat, hips stuttering as his grip on your thighs turned bruising. “Good. Then you’ll feel this.”
One more thrust. Then he buried himself deep, his cock twitching inside you—and came. Hot. Heavy. You could feel it, his cum spilling inside you, thick and hot, the first sharp pulse dragging a gasp from your lips as your pussy clenched down hard, instinctive, involuntary. He grunted against your throat, cock jerking in your walls, filling you, the pressure unbearable as your cunt fluttered helplessly around him. And then he stilled. Didn’t pull out, or move at all. Just kept you pinned there—stuffed full, sore, leaking—his breath ragged against your jaw. You were shaking. But he wasn’t done. One hand slid down lazily, and his fingers found your clit.
“Want you to come again,” he muttered. “Not leaving you like this.”
You whined, high and broken, body twitching. “Sam— I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” His fingers moved in slow, cruel circles, slick from your own arousal, from his cum already starting to seep out around his softening cock, dripping down your thighs. You could feel everything. The way your walls clenched around him with every pulse of his fingers. The warm, thick stretch still deep inside you. The pressure of his release, sloshing with each twitch of your hips.
"Come on,” he breathed. “I want to feel you again.”
And you did. You came again. Sobbing. Trembling. Your cunt clenching so hard around him that his cock twitched again, even soft, even spent. His cum spilled down your thighs. You were shaking, broken open, a wet, slick mess with his release still inside you, still yours. You couldn’t stop shaking. Even after your orgasm faded, after your muscles went slack and your moans turned to whimpers, you clung to him, chest heaving, face pressed to his shoulder. Your cunt still fluttered around him, overfilled, oversensitive, his cock softening inside you but still so deep, sealing in the thick mess of his come. Your thighs were soaked.
The wall was damp with sweat and soot. And all around you, the church groaned, wood cracking above, embers still smoldering in the corners, smoke curling toward the empty rafters. You tried to breathe. He didn’t speak. Sam just held you. Not sweetly, nor protectively. But rather, instinctively, like his body knew to keep you there. To stay inside. To press your ruined body into his until whatever storm had passed in him finally quieted. His fingers were still locked around your thighs. Like you were something he'd taken and wasn't ready to let go of. The stained glass above was broken. Ash floated in the air like dust. And somewhere behind you, the last of the fire cracked in the pulpit.
There were no prayers here. No forgiveness. Just him. And you. And the scent of sex and death beneath the hollow eyes of ruined saints.
Notes: I've been cooking this JayRoy x Fem!Reader for some time now, the only thing is... I got excited and ended up writing waaaay too much so this will be separeted in two parts. This is part one, if you guys like it lemme know if you want part two, pls!!!
PART 2!!!!
WARNINGS: Talks about stalking, nearly death experince, violence, murderer, being socialy secluded, a lot of complicated feelings. This is part 1!
Words: 4,7k
Synopsis: It never crossed Roy's mind that his cute civilian ex would be knocking at his apartmant door asking for help. Jason never tought that he would've to help his boyfriend with his ex, but he is, especially because she might die if they don't help her out.
Things are not so great at the moment. And she knows it, that's why she stands in front of her ex boyfriend's apartment door, picking at her nails and looking everywhere but the door. She knows she shouldn't be looking for him, but in the situation that she finds herself, Roy may be the only person that can help her out. Rationality, she knows it's no biggie, showing up and asking for her ex boyfriend, who is a very known vigilante, to save her skin. However, emotionally, she knows it's fucked up.
Taking a deep breath, she knows it's a bad idea, but she reaches for the door and knocks. Taking a step back, y/n can feel her muscles starting to shake in a nervous fit.
It's been two years since she saw Roy for the last time, and she wonders how much has changed since then.
The door is open and y/n looks up, to find a tall brunette looking at her with an arched eyebrow. She smiles, trying to be polite. He doesn't smile back.
“Hi! Is this Roy Harper's apartment?” She asks, still picking at her nails and the man in front of her notices.
“Yes” he answers, his voice deep and intimidating and for the first time she knows for a fact that this is more than a bad idea, it's a terrible one. But then again, it's better than dying.
“Is he home?” The man crosses his big arms over his chest, taking in a more intimidating stance than before.
“Yes”
He is not the most polite ever, and it's starting to make y/n panic turn into frustration very quickly.
“Can I talk to him?” the man clicks his tongue, obviously not liking her request. Well, what can she do, a girl needs to try her shot.
“Who is at the door, love?” a familiar voice asks and now she understands. The huge guy in front of her is acting up in a jealous fit. Does he know who she is? Probably.
“Your ex” he says, and yeah, he knows who she is.
They can hear steps coming in the direction of the door and a very confused Roy shows up, wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants and his hair is longer, long enough to be put up in a man bun. Cute.
“Y/n?” He is pale and it seems like he just saw a ghost in front of him. She smiles and gives a tiny wave, not knowing how to act. When she decided to ask Roy for help, she knew that there was the chance for this to happen. A chance to find out about his new partner, a chance that he would look terrified, a chance that he would say no and let her die. Simple stuff.
“Hi, Roy” things are awkward, the three of them looking at each other like idiots.
“What are you doing here?” Roy seems offended that she ever had the guts to show up like this and honestly, she understands him and would deal with this situation in a more aggressive way if it was her in his place.
“I need your help” she can feel her cheeks burning and her heart rate increase, she feels the sting of a broken nail and her palms are sweating.
“With what?” Who asks the question is the brunette man, and y/n finally looks at him. He is wearing the same attire as Roy, paired up with a long sleeve black compression shirt, and she realizes how big he actually is. If he wanted to, he could throw her through the stairs of the building with ease. He is scary.
Instead of actually answering the brunette, she started rambling all of her thoughts to them, feeling her chest tight.
“I know you told me not to go, I know you said my brain would put me in danger one day and that my smart mouth would kill me and honestly I never believed you, but I fucked up. I fucked up real bad, Roy.” Desperation seeps through her voice, making her look ridiculous but the amount of panic in the woman in front of Roy only sparks his worry.
“What the fuck did you do?” He asks, taking her wrist and pulling her inside the apartment, practically throwing her in their living room.
“I stumbled across files I should have not stumbled across.” Roy Harper is not a man to worry, unless it's his daughter, Jason or Dinah. Or Y/n.
She was always one to worry about. Always too smart for her own good, always too clever to her own safety, always too curious. She found out way too easily his identity as Arsenal when they were dating. He knew that one day she would have a price over her head.
“What does that mean, y/n?” He is basically yelling at her now, frustrated that she doesn't give him the information he needs. She pouts, hating the fact that Roy is yelling at her.
“It means you were right, ok? I am too curious for my own good and now some rich people want me dead.”
Fuck it.
Jason didn't see this one coming, not even a thousand miles away. When he woke up this morning, sore from their last mission, he wouldn't have guessed that Roy's most recent ex and only civilian ex, would show up at their doorstep asking for Roy to save her skin from rich people.
Jason sighs, drawing the attention to him. He closes his eyes, hoping this is some weird dream, but when he opens them again, two pairs of eyes are staring at him. He thanks the gods that Lian is with Alfred.
“And how could Roy help you?” Jason asks, wondering what is going through this stranger woman's head.
“As Arsenal, obviously” she says, as if Jason is one dumb fucker, and he can't believe that this is happening.
“She knows?” Roy shrugs, as if saying ‘I have no control over that’.
“She found out when we were three months into the relationship” Jason looks at her again, shocked with this new piece of information. He knew they dated for over a year, and also knew how heartbroken Roy was when she left to live in Ireland because of a job opportunity. He didn't know she knew about Arsenal, though.
“It was actually quite easy to figure it out” she says, her eyes roaming over him, not in a ‘I am attracted to you’ way but in ‘who are you?’ type of way, and that made an uneasy feeling set in Jason's stomach.
“How?” He needs to know how she found out, how her brain works. Jason knows a lot of people, for fucks sake, he knows Tim and Tim found out Robin's identity at the age of nine, not many things shook him, but it's eight in the morning and this woman is definitely weird.
“I noticed they have the same scar on the left arm”
Jason's eyes bulge just a little and he looks at his boyfriend, who is looking at the floor, probably embarrassed with how easily a civilian found out his identity.
“I know” the read head says, clicking his tongue “she is a freak with that brain of hers”
It's y/n's turn to sigh, rolling her eyes. She looks at Jason again and says, very calmly.
“I knew I could say Roy is Arsenal near you because I firmly believe you already knew. Not because he told you, but because you are like him” the nervous and anxious girl from before is gone and she looks more confident and comfortable, and that uneasy feeling of having someone with a bigger brain than yours in the room comes back to Jason's stomach.
“And why's that?” Roy chuckles, and Jason looks at him with a quizzical look but the redhead says nothing, just smiles.
“You keep analyzing me, noticing every single move I make. For a guy your size you are very quiet and silent” she point out, numbering everything she says in her manicured fingers “Also, you keep reaching for your thigh, as if you keep looking for a gun in a holster” Y/n points to his hand, resting in his left thigh, and he wants to curse himself.
“I will make an educated guess and say you are Red Hood, the guy that is always with Arsenal” She says and smiles, tilting her head to the side, exposing her neck that has a hand imprint on it. “You are him, aren't you?”
Jason nods, not verbally answering her, but he knows there is no use lying since she knows about Roy's identity. What actually sparks his interest is the marks in her neck. She notices him looking and she once again hides her skin from them. Jason looks at Roy, to see if he saw the same as him, and his boyfriend's gaze is focused on y/n neck as well. There is more to this story than she is truly telling, and they know.
“She found out about Dinah in forty minutes in the same room as her.” Roy says, instead of saying something about the purple marks, walking to the kitchen to get a water bottle for himself.
Jason looks at her, doing exactly what she said he was doing before, but now he takes his time. Analyzing her. Meanwhile, she keeps an eye on Roy, who is not caring at all about the exchange behind him.
Roy turns around, holding his water bottle and looks at the two of them. He drinks all the water with a few gulps, feeling the cold water calm him down to the conversation he will soon have. He really wants to know who is the fucker that tried to choke her to death and left those marks on her smooth skin.
“Come with me” he says, pointing at a very shocked Jason and a very smug y/n to follow him.
The three of them get in a room decorated to be a study, Roy sits on a couch in the corner of the room and Jason sits next to him, his big arm going around Roy's shoulders.
“Explain yourself, pookie” Roy says and y/n takes a deep breath, collecting her thoughts to start explaining herself to the two vigilantes in front of her.
“It all started a few months ago when Campbell Enterprises, the place I worked at, developed a new project. One that was secretive and only a few would participate, the HR did a whole campaign to encourage us to participate in the selective process to choose the ones that would be a part of this new project. I was hoping I was not chosen, honestly, I was fine with the workload I already had at my lab at the time, but it was mandatory to participate” she pauses, taking a deep breath and looking at the window, watching the sun come through.
“They chose me and a few others to be a part of it, but it was all too secretive, even for us that were working on it. It was tiring, since my regular workload kept coming” she clicks her tongue and blinks, as if she was transported back to the moment that she is telling them about. “One night I stayed later than usual, it was just me in the laboratory, I was tired and annoyed with a few things so I started digging around, just so see if I could see the development of the others that I worked with.”
She blinks again, swallowing tears and looks at them. Roy and Jason are looking at her very attentively, waiting patiently for her to continue. There is no pressure, no tension in the room, just two men looking at her as if she was made of glass and that, for some reason, soothed the pain inside. Y/N is too used to not allowing herself to be fragile, but right now, with Jason and Roy, she feels that she can allow herself to be a little bit vulnerable.
“That's how I ended up coming across the real motivation of the project. They told us that we were developing a new medicine for kids with cancer, when in fact, we were developing a new drug so they could kidnap children and teenagers with more ease.” There is silence in the room and inevitably, they all thought about Lian, that is safely with Alfred, but she could not be, like many others are not.
“And they found out you came across those files and that's how you got five fingers in your neck?” Roy asks, arms crossed and a frown between his eyebrows, looking irritated.
“Not exactly” she says, her right hand going instinctively to her neck, gulping just to remember the touch of that man on her skin. “They found out I knew, but they didn't make it obvious. I knew they would find out eventually and come after me, but until then I thought I could keep living my life.”
Silence reigns the room, the three of them knowing she was just living an illusion until reality came knocking on her door.
“I went out on a date” she says, and that sparks even more their interest. Jason scoffs, not believing what he just heard.
“You knew you had a target on your back and you went on a date?” He asks sarcasm in every word that he says. She nods and Roy looks at her with disbelief in his green eyes.
“I was needy” she simply states, shrugging as if it was not a big of a deal, except it was. “He was a hitman”
Jason and Roy look at each other, not knowing how to actually react to her words. It all seems so out of this world, especially with the way she tells things, so calmly.
“We were kissing, he grabbed my neck and said that I was too curious, he had a good grip but I had a pocket knife” she is smiling and Jason knows for a fact now that she is crazy.
“So you stabbed him” Roy says, a smirk forming in the corner of his red lips. She nods.
“Didn't kill though, just enough to run away” she looks again at the window and takes a deep breath, “that's how I ended up in an airplane to Gotham. I called Dinah and asked where you lived, she told me you moved to Gotham, gave me your address and that's how I ended up here.”
She looks at them again and they can see in her eyes that she is lost. Desperate. In panic and disbelief of herself. What Jason can't see but Roy can is that Y/n truly believes she is going to die if they don't help her out.
Roy is not happy to have his ex, who broke his heart even if their break up was mutual and mature, standing in front of him. Roy is not happy that Dinah just gave information on him so easily. But he is less happy with the idea of y/n dying. No, he gets angry just with the idea of her not existing anymore.
And Jason may not know y/n, but he knows his boyfriend. He knows Roy just as well he knows himself and Jason can see it in the redhead's eyes that they will help her out, even if it fails, they will try their best. Jason can also see the care and admiration in Roy's eyes every time he looks at her, it's the same way Roy looks at him.
Jason will have to swallow his pride and jealousy, because he is going to help his boyfriend's ex to not die.
“We will help you” Roy says, looking at Jason for support and he finds everything he needs in his lover's eyes.
“But with a few conditions” Jason says, now looking at the younger woman. He knows she is younger than them, but now she truly looks like it. The sun is bathing her from her side, making her eyes shine and seem bigger, her lips are painted a glossy red and her cheekbones are chubby and pink. He can't deny, she is adorable and pretty.
“Anything” she says, her lips quivering just slightly. Jason smirks, he knows he is an asshole, but he also gets the job done.
“You will be staying at one of your monitored safe houses, and you won't leave the house, unless one of us is with you.” Roy nods, his gaze focused on her. The redhead forgot how beautiful she looks with her hair down and a turtleneck and he can't stop staring at her now that he noticed.
“We will make the groceries for you, just give a list. Also only burner phones and not social media” Roy says, and y/n was expecting nothing less than that. She is asking for them to keep her alive and she knows they will do it, even if it means keeping her away from society for a while.
“And we need all the information that you have” Jason finishes, reclining himself against the couch, relaxing his muscles.
Y/n stares. She was always curious and when she thinks something - or someone - is pretty, she stares. She didn't look at Jason until she did, and now that she sees what Roy sees, she can't stop looking.
They are both attractive men, she can't decide which she will take a look at longer, her brain working faster than normal to keep up with everything that she is thinking, from the information that they need to Jason's muscles and Roy's pretty lips.
She knows it's going to be a long ride with those two around her.
4 MONTHS LATER
It was comfortable to stay hidden from society while Roy and Jason were dealing with the issue she put herself in. It is comfortable to stay in and watch movies, read books and cook whatever she feels like cooking. It is comfortable not having to go out to do her own grocery shopping, since Jason did that for her in the last four months, and he never forgot anything from the list. It is comfortable to have them around all the time, it is comfortable to have Lian over on the weekends to play with dolls and paint ceramics with her.
However she knows it's not going to last any longer. Actually, all this comfortable scenario is over as she stares at Roy and listens to him talk.
“It’s all over, we fixed everything up, you can go back to living your life, pookie” he says, his green eyes shining with something she can’t quite comprehend, but she knows the feeling that is attached to her chest. He is sitting in a chair in front of her, only a table stopping Y/N to reach out and hug him until her heart stops growing with pain.
She got comfortable, she created an illusion for herself once again. They were there almost everyday, talking, making jokes and eating homemade food made by her, she even got to befriend Jason in the first month, just to develop feelings for him in the third. In the second month she already knew she still loved Roy with her whole soul, and seeing him so dedicated to see her safe again only intensified that.
She can’t explain, really, how she feels. She just knows its different but she loves them both. Roy is like a ray of sunshine that comes through the window, always warm and welcoming, always making her feel important and cared about. He was always good at making her feel like she is the only girl in the world, like she is actually important and easy to love. It's hard to let those feelings for him go, since she can’t get enough of his smile, his green eyes and his stupid jokes. She thinks that deep down, she never stopped loving him. It was like coming home from a long trip, the feeling of having Roy around again was that. His hugs became frequent again and she thinks she can’t let him go, the warmth and the intimacy are just too good and keeps her sane in the difficult days.
Jason was a surprise. Y/N never thought it was possible to love two people at the same time and in the same intensity, but so differently from each other. At first, she thought she was going crazy with guilt because she still loves Roy, and Jason is his boyfriend. But then, slowly, she realized she fell for him just as hard as she had fallen for Roy. Jason is attentive, caring and even though he is more introverted, he understands her on a deep level. He knows when she is upset before she even acknowledges herself, he always has a good book recommendation and he always helped her in the kitchen when he could. Lian loves him and he is good with kids just as much as Roy is. He is calm and collected and somehow, he soothes her mind.
She loves them.
But she is sure they don’t love her back.
“Really?” she questions it, not believing that she can once again live in society without risking herself.
“Yes” Jason says, he is behind Roy, his arms crossed and he doesn't look at her for longer than what's enough.
“Everything is clean, then?” She questions it once again, fear creeping inside her head, telling that they couldn’t do anything and that she will die if she leaves their embrace.
“Yes, pookie, everything is clean” Y/N nods, pressing her lips together and looking away from them, not knowing how to actually feel. She is happy that she is once again safe, that she can walk around without risking being murdered, that she can talk longer to her parents. But she can feel that pain in her chest, the one telling her this is the last time she will ever talk to them, see them and feel their presence. She is free to go anywhere, but the only place that she wants is not available for her.
While she sits in sorrow, she doesn’t realize that both men are devastated as well as she is. Roy knew it was possible to love two people at the same time, to want to be romantically with two people at the same time, but it never crossed his mind that he would be living this feeling so intensely. He loves Jason with his soul, he would die for his boyfriend and kill just anyone Jason asked him to kill. But he can’t deny that he also loves Y/N, she is everything he could possibly want and not deserving to have. Her smile, her scent, her eyes, her lips, her body, her hair, everything in her was an invitation to his heart. Roy loves her with his heart, he would do anything for her too, he just did. He killed for her last night just to be sure she would be fine. He doesn’t want to let go, but if that's what she wants, he will do it.
Jason was always skeptical about feelings until he fell for Roy, and he fell hard. He loves Roy more than he could ever be possible, he would take Roy in his worst days just as much as he would take Roy in his good days, and he would go against the world to see his boyfriend happy and calm. Jason stopped drug dealing because he thought it was disrespectful with Roy since he is clean and healthy after a long period of darkness. He takes care of all the things Roy doesn’t want to and he is nice to people that once hurt him because he wants to be good for his boyfriend and to Lian. It never occurred to him that he could possibly fall for Y/N during this time working for her safety. But he did. And it was embarrassing. He could not look at her longer than a few minutes or his mind would drift to scenarios they would never live, and then he would feel guilt eating him up. Jason was going crazy over his feelings for this woman, she was diabolical with the way she made him feel. The way she would make him blush with a brush of fingers while cooking, the way she would make his chest warm with happiness when she smiled at him and the way she would make him feel euphoric when she complimented something about him. She was diabolical, and that's why in the last month he told Roy about his feelings.
Jason remembers how long the talk was, and he was not shocked to know that Roy still loves her and he truly understands the readhad, it's easy to love Y/N. Her ramblings about things she likes, the way she walks on the tip of her toes when happy, the way her hair falls over her eyes when she is focused. Jason feels like he is not some monster around her, she makes him feel light and makes him forget about all the vigilante stuff, he feels normal around her and good, he feels good. She makes it seem it's easy to be around him.
They agreed to let her go if it was truly what she wanted, but if she decided to stay, they already talked about asking her out on a date, with both of them. If she didn’t want them both, they agreed that they would move on. It was the three of them together or nothing.
“What are you going to do now?” Roy asks, voice hoarse trying to keep the tears away. The young woman shrugs, her gaze on the wall next to her, deep in thoughts Roy couldn’t imagine what is about.
“A penny for your thoughts, sweets” Jason says, once again looking at her, he can feel the dread polling at his stomach and he just wants to hold her until she gets tired of him and Roy.
“Thinking about my mom and my dad” she says, finally looking at them with tears stuck in her bottom lashes, making her look like a crying angel in the dim light of the kitchen.
“Are you going to stay with them until you find another job?” the redhead questions, his fingers tapping lightly at the table, a clear sign of anxiety.
“Yeah, I think I will,” she says softly, her shoulders drooping and her head falling, somehow hiding her face from the vigilantes in front of her.
“Nice” Jason says, his voice thick with something not even him can say what it is, but he knows it’s not a good feeling. He feels like he is losing her without trying to actually have her in the first place. “They must miss you”
“They do,” she answers Jason quickly, trying to stop the conversation in its tracks, but it looks like he won’t bite the bullet.
“Where do they live, again?” the brunette asks, not wanting to stop because if they stop talking he won’t be listening to her voice.
“New York City”
Jason clicks his tongue not knowing what to say anymore so he looks at Roy, expecting to see the redhead formulating a plan to keep her around longer, but there is only acceptance in this eyes and Jason knows he lost the battle, he knows she would be leaving soon to NYC and if he tries to stop her, Roy wouldn’t help. Not because he doesn’t love her, but because he isn’t the type to hold people where they don’t want to be.
Roy gets up and smiles fondly at Y/N, hiding his true feelings behind a mask. “If you need anything, just call us.”
She smiles, a tiny one, and nods again understanding that she is not wanted around when in fact what they wanted more is for her to stay with them.
“See you around, boys” she says, leaving for the bedroom that will no longer be hers in the morning.
notes | this was originally supposed to be for the last day of @eywaite and @tallulah477 romancing pandora event, but life got in the way. still, i couldn't get this out of my head so please enjoy this now !
It was stupid—absolutely fucking insane, really—the situation you’ve planted yourself in. You knew you were a trespasser, not looked upon with any grace by Eywa on this exomoon but fuck, this must be some kind of sick joke.
“Dude, my dick is definitely nicer than yours.” Lo’ak’s cheeks are flushed with alcohol, grin toothy and shit-eating as his knee bumps yours.
You’d come across the Omatikaya purely by chance—a lone xenobotanist presumed dead after the tragic and fiery crash of your research team’s buggy in the depths of Pandora’s forests. You’d been warned about the local indigenous population, of course, and had been explicitly told your group was not important enough to risk more lives should you fuck up this exploration.
No one was looking for you, and you were alone on an alien planet with nothing but a scalpel and a faulty research tablet.
You’d wandered for hours, bleeding and disoriented, ears ringing with the impact of your buggy into the tree and heart pounding in fear at the inescapable situation you were now in. You were certain that you were smaller than anything in this forest, and that your sluggishly bleeding wounds and pounding headache would soon make you easy prey for whatever roamed in these woods.
You’d thought the time had finally come as you gasped against a tree for air, vision blurring with pain as your legs shook with the exertion to keep you upright. The air was rife with beastly screeching, the sound so high-pitched you thought briefly that this might be what death sounds like. The deafening flapping of giant wings had you scrambling to the forest floor, using the last of your strength to move pitifully away from the gnashing jaws of the creature who landed in front of you.
You were able to catch a glimpse of worried golden eyes and a lean blue frame that towered over you before the world slipped into inky blackness.
You’d learned afterwards that the Omatikaya did routine patrols in the areas known to the RDA, scheduled bouts of precautionary scouting should the Earth’s military ever stray too far from their boundaries. Well, you’d strayed a lot, apparently.
The man who’d saved you had carried you in a princess hold before the chief, his strong arm holding up your back and looped under your bent knees. It should’ve been embarrassing, you thought, a grown man having to be carried like a ragdoll by a stranger who was bargaining for your life to be saved. Then again, you didn’t exactly have time to worry about how tough you looked when you were on the verge of slipping unconscious again.
It had taken over a week in the medical care of the nearby human outpost before you were on your feet again, body weak from dehydration and healing minor fractures. The man who saved you, Lo’ak, came to check on you regularly, asking questions about your life and your intentions—how you’d wandered into the Omaticaya borders, why you were traveling in the forest, if you had any trackers on you, if anyone was following you.
After several days of him poking and prodding at you with questions, he returned with a much more intimidating man at his back—The chief, Jake Sully, adorned in ornate feathered regalia and a stern expression.
You knew you were best off telling the truth—you were a researcher with many injuries, nowhere else to go, and of no harm to any of the People. You’d even offered to leave once you healed, return to the RDA encampment with tight lips and fake amnesia, though Jake Sully had quickly brushed that off. It was in the People’s best interest that the RDA never knew you came in contact with them, and the only way you could do that was by never returning.
You were met with a mix of fear and anger from the local population. You were an intruder, an unwanted reminder of just how closely war knocked at their doorstep. It would’ve been easy to feel isolated, a bird without a nest.
Except you were surrounded with the most incredible flora and fauna you had ever laid your eyes on, the lands near the village so much more rife with life than the secluded bases of the RDA. The scientists at the outpost just outside the village welcomed you eagerly, sharing their notes and knowledge and living space with open arms. Then, of course, there was Lo’ak.
Lo’ak was a friend, one of the few that you’d acquired in the months since the crash. Turns out, one of his best friends was a human boy who’d grown up in the labs outside the Na’vi encampments, Spider, so he was neither scared nor angry with you. He was mostly curious, poking and prodding you with questions about Earth and showing you hidden wonders of the Forest when he got a rare day off.
He was also damn beautiful—tall and indigo-skinned, with lean muscles and swirling tattoos over the length of his strong arms and the curve of his ribs. You would be able to get over your little infatuation with some ease, you’d met plenty of good-looking people in your life, except he wasn’t just beautiful. He was fucking kind too, and it drove you nuts.
So yes, Lo’ak was beautiful, funny and kind. He made you feel safe and wanted in a world that wanted to kill you at every turn, and he did it with the most endearingly toothy smile you’d ever seen.
He was also the chief’s son, which made him explicitly off-limits even if you did have any chance in any multiverse of getting to be with him. Which was exactly why you shouldn’t be in this situation right now, lazing together on a couch that is far too small for the two of you, passing a leather flask of pxir that was quickly emptying.
You must have been more drunk than you thought, letting the rogue idea slip between your teeth. It was supposed to be a joke, really—a dumb quip about how much you missed getting dicked down back on Earth. Your options were extremely limited, even more than they had been in the RDA outpost. At least over there there had been some sexually repressed military guys to get it on with. Here, everyone was either decades your senior, or definitely not your type.
“You just need to get some Na’vi cock. It’ll make you forget all about whatever puny action you were getting on Earth, bro.” Lo’ak laughed
You were two young men, tipsy and comfortable with one another, it was completely natural to talk about sex. You knew that the Na’vi were extremely comfortable with sex, seeing it as a connection between life forms, something natural and beautiful. Plus, humans were inherently curious, not to mention repressed and hormonal. You figured that sexual experimentation between the two species was something nearly inevitable.
Still, it made you hot beneath the collar, having Lo’ak’s eyes so keen on you with hazy comfort as he suggests you get down and dirty with a Na’vi. With someone like him.
“Hey, watch how you talk about human cock. I’ve still got one, dude.” You scoff, taking another deep swig of the bitter alcohol. It’s always been so easy this way, hiding your discomfort behind sarcasm and dumb jokes. “Besides, it can’t be all that different.”
“Dude, my dick is definitely nicer than yours.”
It should be insulting. It is insulting, you tell yourself. That’s why your cheeks flush so devastatingly red, definitely. “Oh, fuck you, pretty boy. If that’s what you tell yourself to sleep at night, go ahead.”
“Well, there’s one way to find out.” Lo’ak’s eyes glisten with amusement, obviously reveling in the dumbstruck look on your face.
That was another thing you’d come to love about Lo’ak. He was always competitive, even over the stupidest things, even with stuff that will get him smacked or killed. He jumps at any opportunity to prove to himself and others that he was capable and brave. It usually made your heart flutter with admiration, now it just puts you on edge.
“You’re not seriously suggesting to whip it out, are you?” You chuckle
“What, you’re scared I might be right?” He goads.You’re about to deny him, about to insist you’ve had too much to drink when you’re barely even feeling a buzz so you can
Except that Lo’ak is already pulling his hips up from the couch, moving to sit up on the arm of the seat so he can untie his loincloth. His muscled torso stretches while he extends his body, black swirling lines of tattoos he acquired with the reef tribes etched down his ribs and tapering just at the edge of the v-line leading into his bottoms.
It’s completely stupid and irrational. It’s definitely something that could get you smacked or even exiled if people found out. Hell, Lo’ak could never talk to you again if he knew what dirty things were running through your mind. It’s also the start of every stupid, dirty fantasy you’ve been unable to repress for months.
If you were a stronger man, you’d get up and leave. Except, you’re not.
“Alright, pretty boy. Put your money where your mouth is.”
Lo’ak’s grin is a little smaller than before, still confident but edged with something that seems bashful, his tail swinging leisurely behind him. It only takes a few tugs of his practiced fingers for the leather of his loincloth to loosen, then fall to the tiled ground of your room.
You feel ashamed for looking, even though that was the whole point of this stupid competition, if it could even be called that. You try to keep your face neutral as Lo’ak lighty spreads his legs, brows furrowing a bit. The apex of Lo’ak’s legs resembles more of a human female’s anatomy than anything. His skin is smooth, hairless just as the rest of his body, the darker stripes on his skin narrowing to a slit in his crotch
You swallow heavily, tucking one of your legs up to your chest to hopefully obscure the growing bulge in your shorts. You try to keep your voice even, teasing, even as it shakes. “From where I’m standing, looks like there’s nothing to compare, bro.”
“Fuck off, just give me a second.” Lo’ak mutters, cheeks warm as he brings a hand between his own legs. “Only humans are dumb enough to have their shit hanging out all the damn time.”
You’re glad to see a flush on Lo’ak’s cheeks, hear the gruff rasp of his voice. It’s comforting to know you’re not the only one a little affected, and you feel a bit of hope blossom inside your chest.
His fingers move between his legs, parting the slit with soft movements, his fingers shining with slick between his legs as he coaxes the opening open. He keeps his lips tight, chest moving with heavy breaths at each of his own touches.
Your eyes are rapt at his every movement, heart pounding .You briefly wonder if this is how he touches himself when he’s all alone, if he makes the same heavy breaths and twitches of his ears.
It takes only moments for something to begin breaching the folds of Lo’ak’s slit, his breath coming a little heavier. Slowly, a cock emerges from the sheath inside his body, a lighter shade of blue tapering to pinkish at the tip. There’s no balls that follow it, though the base seems a bit swollen as he hangs at half-mast before you.
“Whoa.” You clear your throat quickly, averting your gaze from Lo’ak’s laughing eyes. “Thought you’d be bigger, honestly.”
It’s a big fat lie, and an obvious one too. Even without being fully hard, Lo’ak’s cock almost easily matches the length of your forearm.
“Oh, fuck off. I can smell you, you know. I know just what you think of your first Na’vi cock.” His tone isn’t malicious, just teasing, each word laced with
Your face flushes, fingers twitching anxiously against your thigh that still sits tucked up against you. It’s easy to forget how superior Na’vi senses are when you spend so little time with them, especially outside of the lab. You briefly wonder if Lo’ak has been able to tell every time you’ve felt a flare of arousal in his presence, if he had connected the dots that your brain constantly wandered to your filthiest thoughts in his presence.
He leans forward, pressing one hand on the arm of the couch behind you. He’s close now, his breath near ghosting over your face as his eyes search yours. “Your turn. Not much of a competition if I’m the only one showing off, now is it?”
This is quickly treading into dangerous territory, something that sobers you up quicker than any water of coffee could. Lo’ak’s hand is still cradling his length, just ghosting lightly along the enlarged base as he leans over you with his muscled body. You know you’re hard, can feel the blood rushing from your head to pound between your thighs, can feel your length pressing uncomfortably against the cotton of your shorts. Unlike him, there’s nowhere for you to hide, no way to conceal just how affected you are.
You feel like you’re free-falling, diving head first into all the emotions you’d convinced yourself would be better off tucked away. Part of you wanted to keep it all at arm’s length, to let this be a moment of lust, another memory to be tucked away. The other part wanted to jump in feet first, consequences be damned, fuck the fallout.
You steel your nerves as Lo’ak backs off a little, giving you the space to undo the buttons of your pants. You know you can end this all with a few words, that if it really bothered you Lo’ak would forget this ever happened and never bring it up again, because he was that kind of guy. Except, you’re sure you aren’t imagining the lingering heat in Lo’ak’s gaze, or the excited flick of his tail as his eyes follow the movements of your fingers as you drop your pants.
You don’t need visual confirmation to know you’re already hard and leaking, the tip of your cock red and aching as your fingers ghost along your thighs.
“Looks like I win.” Lo’ak’s voice is breathier than before, his knee brushing against your leg as he lingers closely to you. His hand still sits close to his own cock, which has made no signs of retreating back into his body.
“Okay, you’re obviously gonna be bigger than me. You’re a fucking giant.” Your face flushes, trying to ignore the throb in your cock as Lo’ak’s eyes trail across your body.
“Don’t be so hateful, bro. No one likes a sore loser.”
“Yeah, well, at least I have more stamina than you.” It’s so easy to slip back into teasing sarcasm, like a shield you can put around yourself to keep all the confusing emotions at arm’s length. It helps you feel some control that has been steadily slipping away, grasp onto some sort of reality.
Lo’ak just chuckles lowly. “More stamina? I’m a trained warrior, bro. Stamina is my game.”
You snort, trying desperately to forget the fact that you’re both naked beneath the waist. “You’re the most reckless fucker I’ve ever met. I bet you blow your load in two seconds.”
“Oh, come on, you’re the pent up little scientist. You really think you can last longer than me?” Lo’ak’s voice deepens, one of his hands trailing up across the outside of your thigh as he shadows over you.
“Try me.”
Lo’ak’s mouth is on yours before you have a chance to regret the challenge. He’s so much bigger than you, and the way his entire mouth encompasses yours is strange but not unpleasant. One of his hands eagerly comes up under your shirt and along your ribs, the other holding up his weight on the couch behind you. You run your fingers up along the planes of his body, tracing the ridges of his ribs and the curve of his shoulders, to embed them in your memory.
He gasps as he pulls away from you, his hips dipping to nudge his hardening cock against your hip as he leaves a line of wet kisses from the corner of your mouth to underneath your jaw. You vaguely register his tail thumping excitedly into the plush of the couch, the way his ears twitch forward to catch every hitch of your breathing.
“Shit, you’re so hot.” Lo’ak’s voice mumbles across your skin, canines grazing the sensitive skin of your neck as he pushes himself closer to you.
“Touch yourself.” You gasp, tightening your grip on Lo’ak’s bicep as he pushes his hips down into you.
Lo’ak pauses. “What?”
“Come on, you wanted to talk a big game. Let’s see how long you really last.” Your grin is devilish, edged with excitement and desire as you trail your fingers teasingly across the muscle of his arms. You delight in the little shiver that passes through him.
“Wouldn’t you rather be the one to touch me?” His voice is raspy, breathless as he nibbles along the curve of your neck.
“Oh, where’s the fun in that, pretty boy?” You bite your lip in a grin, resting your forehead along his own. “We want this to be a fair trial, and having my skilled hands on you could definitely skew the results.”
Lo’ak laughs, removing his hand reluctantly from your ribs to palm along his own cock. “Fine, no touching. For your results.”
You can feel yourself steadily losing control as you lean back and watch Lo’ak—the way he teasingly trails his fingers down his own chest and across his cock, the little gasp he lets out when he tightens his fingers around the base, the desperate hitching of his hips as he keeps his eyes firmly on you as he works himself over.
Lo’ak’s eyes flick expectantly towards your own hard cock, moaning loud as he finally sees you grip yourself in your palm. You’re so sensitive and it’s been so long, each touch feels magnified with Lo’ak above you, watching your every move with panting breaths. Lo’ak slows his movements on himself a bit, moving to grip himself at the swollen base of his cock. His reaction is immediate, a deep groan vibrating through his chest as his eyes roll a bit.
You tighten your grip on the base, heat shooting through you as you drink in the sounds of Lo’ak’s moans. Fuck, of course he’s loud. Your lips brush against his own as you speak. “Jesus, the sounds you make are fucking incredible.”
A knowing smile reaches across Lo’ak’s flushed face. He parts his lips to run over yours, drinking in the sigh you let out. “Really? Well, you’ve got a pretty incredible mouth too.”
“S-shut up-” You gasp. You know you should go slow because some stupid part of you still wants to win, to make Lo’ak come undone first because of you. Yet, you can’t help the way your fist tightens at each wet little gasp coming from Lo’ak’s mouth, the way your hand quickens around yourself as you watch his pretty cock move through his fist.
“It’s true. You don’t know how many times I’ve done this thinking of your stupid smart mouth, how it would feel.” Your breath hitches at Lo’ak’s words, each breath emphasized with the roll of his hips into his own fist.
“Oh, oh, shit.” You know your desperation is seeping into your tone, suppressed moans barely being hidden by your gritted teeth. You’ve always been weak to Lo’ak, and now is no exception, especially now with the admission that he’s thought of you before.
“You look so sexy like this, all spread out under me. You know, you’re always calling me pretty boy but you’re putting me to shame here, narlor.” Lo’ak’s eyes are hazy but calculating, watching each expression on your face as the filth he’s saying echoes into the air around you. He has a look in his eye, like he knows he’s winning.
“Oh fuck you.” You groan, your hips moving desperately up into your hand. You can feel the heat of Lo’ak’s body encompassing you, the head of your cock brushing against his leg with each movement of your hips. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Hah, really?” Lo’ak gasps. The sly grin that comes across his face is all the confirmation you need.
“You’re trying to get me off, by…by saying that stuff. I-it’s cheating.” You moan as your fingers snag against the head of your cock, catching the precum leaking from your tip to slicken the slide of your fist.
“Oh, that wasn’t in the rules,” he teases, licking a stripe up your neck. He lowers himself closer to you, the head of his cock bumping against your stomach where your shirt has ridden up. “Not my fault I can’t stop thinking how perfect you’d feel wrapped around me.”
Fuck, you don’t know if he means your mouth or your ass but it really doesn’t matter, either one of the images sending your brain into a frenzy. A moan rips through you, fingers twisting around your cock. It’s so easy to picture how Lo’ak would look inside you, or how he would fall apart on your fingers. It has you hurtling dangerously close to the edge.
Your breath quickens as you look up into Lo’ak’s eyes, dark pools ringed with the slightest amount of gold. His tail coils around himself, wrapping possessively around your shin.
“Fuck, look at you. It’s like you’re out of a wet dream.” Lo’ak grits his teeth, pushing his cock up against you as he strokes himself. You can see the slick from his slit dripping across his cock and down his thighs, a sweet and musky smell coating the air.
“Hah, have a lot of d-dreams about me?” You tease, but your voice is thready, more pleading than asking.
He grins against your lips. “Maybe. Wouldn’t you like to know.”
And fuck the thought has you reeling. It’s so easy to see Lo’ak in your mind, waking up hot and needy to dirty thoughts of you, half-asleep as he stuffs a fist in his mouth and strokes himself to completion with your name on his lips.
“S-shit, shit, Lo’ak, I-” your breaths come in quick gasps, too turned on to care about any embarrassing sounds that are leaking from your throat.Your body is thrumming with energy as heat coils tightly in your stomach.
“I want you to come, narlor. Right now, on me.” Lo’ak groans and you can feel his fist bumping into your hip with his rapid movements. Your eyes are clenched shut, riding the overwhelming feeling of your orgasm
“Come, let me see it. Now.” His voice is urgent, pleading.
“Oh, f—uh-”
The muscles in your thighs clench as you buck up into your fist, your cock bumping Lo’ak as you come across your fist and stomach, smearing your release onto your partner with each movement onto Lo’ak. Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulder, a moan tumbling from your throat as you come harder than you ever had. Maybe there was something to Lo’ak’s theory about Na’vi cock after all.
Lo’ak isn’t far behind you, panting into your mouth as his hips move unsteadily against you. His throat strains around a loud groan, and you’re able to open your eyes just soon enough to see his face scrunch in pleasure, ears twitching with each rolling wave of pleasure pulsing through him.
You try to commit the look to memory, down to the lopsided and dopey grin that stretches across his face. Lo’ak sighs with satisfaction, his dirty hand coming to rub softly across your hip. “Told you I would win.”
You can’t help the giddy smile that comes across your face, giving a peck to his grinning lips. “Best two out of three?”
