sg-1: code of life (sam/hathor | pg-13 | 195 words)
Dudes. I don't even know. This was all I could think about right after finishing the episode? I'm awful.
*
[ Sam/Hathor | PG-13 | 195 words | 2008-07-16 ]
AU-ish snippet based on 1x13, Hathor.
Code of Life
"We are pleased by your form," she says, fingers snaking through your hair. "You are a most beautiful woman."
"Mmmm," you mumble senselessly, turning your face into her palm, inhaling her in. Somewhere, far away, words are circling, aimless shots in the dark that fall short of firing any synapses. Shouldn't... the enemy... manipulating...
"We are here to honor you," she whispers against your ear. Her reassurance melts doubt as if she read your incoherent thoughts; the warmth of her otherworldly voice dispels the last lingering cobwebs marring her touch.
She is electricity along your nerves, fire in your blood. You arch back to let your clothes fall, distantly hear the clatter of your gun on the ground. You have no recollection of why you were holding it.
"We are here to grant you the blessings of fertility," she promises, hand slipping down your front, between your thighs. "We would taste of you." She licks her finger in one long, slow stroke. She smiles ocher, red as sunset.
"Yes," you say as you step into her embrace, and when you look into her face, you see indigo stormclouds and the rage of a thousand gods. "Yes."
*
[ Sam/Hathor | PG-13 | 195 words | 2008-07-16 ]
AU-ish snippet based on 1x13, Hathor.
Code of Life
"We are pleased by your form," she says, fingers snaking through your hair. "You are a most beautiful woman."
"Mmmm," you mumble senselessly, turning your face into her palm, inhaling her in. Somewhere, far away, words are circling, aimless shots in the dark that fall short of firing any synapses. Shouldn't... the enemy... manipulating...
"We are here to honor you," she whispers against your ear. Her reassurance melts doubt as if she read your incoherent thoughts; the warmth of her otherworldly voice dispels the last lingering cobwebs marring her touch.
She is electricity along your nerves, fire in your blood. You arch back to let your clothes fall, distantly hear the clatter of your gun on the ground. You have no recollection of why you were holding it.
"We are here to grant you the blessings of fertility," she promises, hand slipping down your front, between your thighs. "We would taste of you." She licks her finger in one long, slow stroke. She smiles ocher, red as sunset.
"Yes," you say as you step into her embrace, and when you look into her face, you see indigo stormclouds and the rage of a thousand gods. "Yes."