FIC: Making Do (LOST) Jacket, Rated NC 17
Dec. 27th, 2006 01:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madwomanwithaboxTitle: Making Do
Fandom: LOST
Pairing: Jacket (Juliet/Jack)
Rating: NC 17 for major hotness of the SEX variety, language, and mild roughness
Words: 1,871
Warnings: Spoilers for any and all of LOST S3, and speculation that could be spoilery. Y'know...if it actually HAPPENS.
A/N: Done for the TAKE OFF THE JACKET PORN BATTLE (prompt: shortmidgetdooowop), and will not be the only fic I write for this little foofooraw, because I AM GOING TO BEAT![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lollobrigida!!!!! Ahem. :P...oh, and though the aforementioned Goddess Of Awesome beta'd, all mistakes and general suckiness are mine alone.
Forlaura4lad, because I USED HER CRAZYEE-AZZ PROMPT OF LOVE AND JACKET HAWTNESS. It's not *exactly* dead on...but I rolled with it. ;)
ENJOY!!
* * * * *
“Pasta.”
“Penne.”
“Short.”
“Midget.”
“Doo wop.”
There was a long pause that stretched out interminably, until Juliet’s laughter finally broke the silence. “All right, I give up.”
Jack simply grinned, leaning over to refill her wine glass for her. “Bottoms up.”
Giggling, she reached for her glass and after a deep breath, downed it in one go, licking a few stray drops from her lips when she was done, still laughing. “You realize how ridiculous this is, right? Playing drinking games with chardonnay?”
“Well, seeing as how you don’t have any tequila...” he quipped with the same smile, filling his own glass even though he hadn’t lost on a turn. Juliet had a feeling that their improvised word association drinking game was over as he lifted the glass and downed it swiftly, and without much trouble. Given what she knew about his background, she had a feeling that even tequila wouldn’t be too strong for him.
“You’re settling in well.” she observed, shifting on the sofa to rest her bare feet on the cushion, drawing her knees up to her chest after setting her glass down.
Jack rolled his lips between his teeth silently, then shook his head as he reached up to rub his chin. “No, I’m not. That’s the big joke that none of you seem to get.”
“I don’t--”
“You offered me a place here, and I accepted. Instead of a ticket home, I chose to stay.” His voice was almost venomous as he spoke, and when he turned those dark eyes on her, they were flat and dead...mere shadows of the dark, angry look filled with living fury that she’d gotten so used to seeing in the shark tank.
“You said that you know who I am.” he went on quietly. “Tell me, Juliet: does it all add up? My agreement...my perfect little house next door...my new practice, my evenings spent in your living room, talking and drinking and getting to know you? Does *any* of it add up?”
For a long moment Juliet could only sit there, staring at him, torn between hatred and grief. In the few short weeks she’d dealt with him, face to face...learned his moods, his temperament, his heart...all the things that the reports hadn’t told her...she’d fallen in love with him.
And now he was still a prisoner, just in a bigger cell...he’d joined them, accepted them, and had been working hard to adjust to living in their new community with a great deal of success. It was a smooth transition, and a beneficial one.
For Them.
It was the only victory Jack could achieve over them...giving them exactly what they wished for. Somehow, he knew they needed more than just a body...more than just his skills, more than just his physical makeup. Ben wanted *Jack*...unconditional surrender, to remold the good doctor into their own image.
What he got was a broken shell of a man. He didn’t have new acolyte, he had a new property acquisition. He’d never get anything from Jack but a hard day’s work. No faith in anything, no hope for the future...no passion for his great vision.
And all Juliet got was the empty fantasies she’d fostered since his arrival. Or so he thought.
“Some of it does add up.” she finally replied quietly, holding his gaze. “After what happened, I wouldn’t expect you to spend time with me...to *want* to spend time with me. But I think you do...because here with me is the closest you can get to feeling alive again...the closest you can get to being Jack Shephard.”
For a long moment, he didn’t answer her, and after a heartbeat turned to stare into the depths of the wine bottle sitting between the two glasses on her coffee table. She knew that she was right...and Jack was starting to see it.
She moved first, leaning in to kiss him. She felt rather than heard his gasp of surprise as their lips met...hard, almost brutal, probably with a lot more ferocity than he’d been expecting. It was a habit too many people had...underestimating her. But with Jack, it was different...he wasn’t underestimating her in terms of skill or personality...he underestimated her need, the level of her own feelings for him.
She could forgive him that sin.
It was a moment before he finally responded to the kiss...submissively at first, allowing her whatever liberties she wanted, but when she crawled into his lap and straddled his waist, she felt something change...a little more pressure from his lips on hers, a little more force as their tongues tangled together.
Then it really did change when his hands slid up her thighs to grip her hips hard...almost painfully, hard enough to bruise. The action wrenched a gasp from her and brought their gazes level...light on dark, his eyes demanding and raw as they stared into hers.
When their lips met again, it was all hard, searing passion...a primal need that drove them both as they worked at each other’s clothes, fighting and struggling with belt buckles and bra clasps in an effort to disrobe as quickly as possible. Their battle with clothing took them to the floor, where Jack took control and rolled her on her back, roughly pinning her wrists above her head with one large hand while the other worked at the fly of her jeans. He used enough force to make it harsh, almost cruel, but hesitated with every movement, just long enough to give her a chance to fight, to say no...
She knew he wanted this to be anything but what it was...a chance to hurt her, to lash out, to recover his precious shell of defeat. Without it, he’d have nothing with which to fight Them. They would have everything they wanted...all of him, because she knew...she could *feel* as his tongue caressed her breast, as he caught her nipple between his teeth, not hard enough to hurt her but just hard enough to send a delicious thrill through her.
He wanted her...with a frightening, animal level of desire that overwhelmed him. She could feel it as he fought, struggled to rein it in as his mouth blazed a trail down her body, nipping at the valley between her breasts, nose nuzzling her sternum, tongue flicking out to trace her navel before she felt only his lips and tongue, kissing and licking a painfully slow path the rest of the way down her body.
“Jack...” The high, keening voice sounded so little like her own as she lifted her hips just a little, urging him on as her hands, now free of his grip, moved to slide through his close cropped hair. She wasn’t one to beg, but she could barely stand it. It had been too long since a man touched her the way she wanted to be touched...hard and hot, left with marks of passion and knowing that in the morning, she’d still feel the sweet burn of sex in her muscles and in her skin.
He stopped then, his head lifting from her body. Gazing into his eyes, she felt her heart in her throat when she saw the look there...the spark she’d seen in that tank, the smoldering coals of living fury that always sent a shock through her...only now they were glowing with something in addition to rage.
“No talking.” he rasped, voice hoarse with passion as he crawled back up the length of her body. “No moving, no touching...not unless I say.”
Juliet knew a lot of things about Jack Shephard...but she could never have prepared herself for this. The look in his eyes, the sound of his voice, the sheer, overpowering presence he had become...irrationally, Juliet found herself thinking of another face...dimpled smirk and glittering blue eyes, far warmer and more human than the depths she stared into now...
Slowly, she nodded, the golden image bleeding out of her mind as she welcomed the darkness onto her skin and into her body. Every touch branded her as his hands gripped, his teeth scraped, and his mouth finally found her center, mouth warm and wet as he lapped and sucked, but saved that first sweet penetration for himself when he finally abandoned his oral ministrations and sank into her, face buried against her neck as he finally moved inside her, combining every hard, piercing thrust with a sweep of his tongue or a light rake of his teeth against her skin, enfolding her in his arms in silent permission for her to finally touch him.
Juliet knew she wasn’t anything more than a body to him at the moment...in this one instant that she wanted to be closer to him, fought to be closer as her hips lifted to meet his thrusts, as her hands greedily devoured the muscled planes of his chest and shoulders, he was driving her away. It might have been because of everything that had happened, or because of the truth she’d learned about him just from this single encounter...or maybe it was simply Jack. Maybe he’d been this way since his ex-wife...
Coherent thought slowly left her as his thrusts quickened, and a slow, lingering kiss against her jaw, with a warm, wet sweep of tongue and just a little press of teeth again gave her voiceless permission to cry out, which she eagerly did, moaning as she felt him growl against her skin. There were no other words, but the unspoken demand for her release was there in every touch, every movement.
It came all at once, unexpected and all-consuming as her eyes shut and her spine bowed with the force of her orgasm, a choked cry roaring from her throat as the world went soft and fuzzy around the edges, her blood roaring in her ears as she came in a blinding rush that left her absolutely weak. She wasn’t aware of touching him, but after she finally sagged beneath him, dimly aware that he’d come with her, the tension in her fingers and the wet warmth against one fingertip told her that she’d dug her nails into his shoulders hard enough to draw blood.
Rolling off of her, for a moment Jack just lay at her side, his body radiating warmth against her as her own skin cooled with a faint sheen of sweat, limbs and muscles already aching with exertion, and the bruises that would come by morning.
It was a long moment before she could muster enough strength to roll her head to the side, regarding him with a small smile. “I know it’s not as much fun as blaming it all on the tequila...but if you want, you can blame this on the wine.”
Silence reigned for a long moment before his muted laughter touched her ears...and as it did, she felt a strange little flood of warmth in her chest, and had to wonder if maybe they made more sense together than she initially thought.
In the end, maybe he wasn’t the only one looking to feel alive again.
Fandom: LOST
Pairing: Jacket (Juliet/Jack)
Rating: NC 17 for major hotness of the SEX variety, language, and mild roughness
Words: 1,871
Warnings: Spoilers for any and all of LOST S3, and speculation that could be spoilery. Y'know...if it actually HAPPENS.
A/N: Done for the TAKE OFF THE JACKET PORN BATTLE (prompt: shortmidgetdooowop), and will not be the only fic I write for this little foofooraw, because I AM GOING TO BEAT
lollobrigida!!!!! Ahem. :P...oh, and though the aforementioned Goddess Of Awesome beta'd, all mistakes and general suckiness are mine alone.For
laura4lad, because I USED HER CRAZYEE-AZZ PROMPT OF LOVE AND JACKET HAWTNESS. It's not *exactly* dead on...but I rolled with it. ;)ENJOY!!
* * * * *
“Pasta.”
“Penne.”
“Short.”
“Midget.”
“Doo wop.”
There was a long pause that stretched out interminably, until Juliet’s laughter finally broke the silence. “All right, I give up.”
Jack simply grinned, leaning over to refill her wine glass for her. “Bottoms up.”
Giggling, she reached for her glass and after a deep breath, downed it in one go, licking a few stray drops from her lips when she was done, still laughing. “You realize how ridiculous this is, right? Playing drinking games with chardonnay?”
“Well, seeing as how you don’t have any tequila...” he quipped with the same smile, filling his own glass even though he hadn’t lost on a turn. Juliet had a feeling that their improvised word association drinking game was over as he lifted the glass and downed it swiftly, and without much trouble. Given what she knew about his background, she had a feeling that even tequila wouldn’t be too strong for him.
“You’re settling in well.” she observed, shifting on the sofa to rest her bare feet on the cushion, drawing her knees up to her chest after setting her glass down.
Jack rolled his lips between his teeth silently, then shook his head as he reached up to rub his chin. “No, I’m not. That’s the big joke that none of you seem to get.”
“I don’t--”
“You offered me a place here, and I accepted. Instead of a ticket home, I chose to stay.” His voice was almost venomous as he spoke, and when he turned those dark eyes on her, they were flat and dead...mere shadows of the dark, angry look filled with living fury that she’d gotten so used to seeing in the shark tank.
“You said that you know who I am.” he went on quietly. “Tell me, Juliet: does it all add up? My agreement...my perfect little house next door...my new practice, my evenings spent in your living room, talking and drinking and getting to know you? Does *any* of it add up?”
For a long moment Juliet could only sit there, staring at him, torn between hatred and grief. In the few short weeks she’d dealt with him, face to face...learned his moods, his temperament, his heart...all the things that the reports hadn’t told her...she’d fallen in love with him.
And now he was still a prisoner, just in a bigger cell...he’d joined them, accepted them, and had been working hard to adjust to living in their new community with a great deal of success. It was a smooth transition, and a beneficial one.
For Them.
It was the only victory Jack could achieve over them...giving them exactly what they wished for. Somehow, he knew they needed more than just a body...more than just his skills, more than just his physical makeup. Ben wanted *Jack*...unconditional surrender, to remold the good doctor into their own image.
What he got was a broken shell of a man. He didn’t have new acolyte, he had a new property acquisition. He’d never get anything from Jack but a hard day’s work. No faith in anything, no hope for the future...no passion for his great vision.
And all Juliet got was the empty fantasies she’d fostered since his arrival. Or so he thought.
“Some of it does add up.” she finally replied quietly, holding his gaze. “After what happened, I wouldn’t expect you to spend time with me...to *want* to spend time with me. But I think you do...because here with me is the closest you can get to feeling alive again...the closest you can get to being Jack Shephard.”
For a long moment, he didn’t answer her, and after a heartbeat turned to stare into the depths of the wine bottle sitting between the two glasses on her coffee table. She knew that she was right...and Jack was starting to see it.
She moved first, leaning in to kiss him. She felt rather than heard his gasp of surprise as their lips met...hard, almost brutal, probably with a lot more ferocity than he’d been expecting. It was a habit too many people had...underestimating her. But with Jack, it was different...he wasn’t underestimating her in terms of skill or personality...he underestimated her need, the level of her own feelings for him.
She could forgive him that sin.
It was a moment before he finally responded to the kiss...submissively at first, allowing her whatever liberties she wanted, but when she crawled into his lap and straddled his waist, she felt something change...a little more pressure from his lips on hers, a little more force as their tongues tangled together.
Then it really did change when his hands slid up her thighs to grip her hips hard...almost painfully, hard enough to bruise. The action wrenched a gasp from her and brought their gazes level...light on dark, his eyes demanding and raw as they stared into hers.
When their lips met again, it was all hard, searing passion...a primal need that drove them both as they worked at each other’s clothes, fighting and struggling with belt buckles and bra clasps in an effort to disrobe as quickly as possible. Their battle with clothing took them to the floor, where Jack took control and rolled her on her back, roughly pinning her wrists above her head with one large hand while the other worked at the fly of her jeans. He used enough force to make it harsh, almost cruel, but hesitated with every movement, just long enough to give her a chance to fight, to say no...
She knew he wanted this to be anything but what it was...a chance to hurt her, to lash out, to recover his precious shell of defeat. Without it, he’d have nothing with which to fight Them. They would have everything they wanted...all of him, because she knew...she could *feel* as his tongue caressed her breast, as he caught her nipple between his teeth, not hard enough to hurt her but just hard enough to send a delicious thrill through her.
He wanted her...with a frightening, animal level of desire that overwhelmed him. She could feel it as he fought, struggled to rein it in as his mouth blazed a trail down her body, nipping at the valley between her breasts, nose nuzzling her sternum, tongue flicking out to trace her navel before she felt only his lips and tongue, kissing and licking a painfully slow path the rest of the way down her body.
“Jack...” The high, keening voice sounded so little like her own as she lifted her hips just a little, urging him on as her hands, now free of his grip, moved to slide through his close cropped hair. She wasn’t one to beg, but she could barely stand it. It had been too long since a man touched her the way she wanted to be touched...hard and hot, left with marks of passion and knowing that in the morning, she’d still feel the sweet burn of sex in her muscles and in her skin.
He stopped then, his head lifting from her body. Gazing into his eyes, she felt her heart in her throat when she saw the look there...the spark she’d seen in that tank, the smoldering coals of living fury that always sent a shock through her...only now they were glowing with something in addition to rage.
“No talking.” he rasped, voice hoarse with passion as he crawled back up the length of her body. “No moving, no touching...not unless I say.”
Juliet knew a lot of things about Jack Shephard...but she could never have prepared herself for this. The look in his eyes, the sound of his voice, the sheer, overpowering presence he had become...irrationally, Juliet found herself thinking of another face...dimpled smirk and glittering blue eyes, far warmer and more human than the depths she stared into now...
Slowly, she nodded, the golden image bleeding out of her mind as she welcomed the darkness onto her skin and into her body. Every touch branded her as his hands gripped, his teeth scraped, and his mouth finally found her center, mouth warm and wet as he lapped and sucked, but saved that first sweet penetration for himself when he finally abandoned his oral ministrations and sank into her, face buried against her neck as he finally moved inside her, combining every hard, piercing thrust with a sweep of his tongue or a light rake of his teeth against her skin, enfolding her in his arms in silent permission for her to finally touch him.
Juliet knew she wasn’t anything more than a body to him at the moment...in this one instant that she wanted to be closer to him, fought to be closer as her hips lifted to meet his thrusts, as her hands greedily devoured the muscled planes of his chest and shoulders, he was driving her away. It might have been because of everything that had happened, or because of the truth she’d learned about him just from this single encounter...or maybe it was simply Jack. Maybe he’d been this way since his ex-wife...
Coherent thought slowly left her as his thrusts quickened, and a slow, lingering kiss against her jaw, with a warm, wet sweep of tongue and just a little press of teeth again gave her voiceless permission to cry out, which she eagerly did, moaning as she felt him growl against her skin. There were no other words, but the unspoken demand for her release was there in every touch, every movement.
It came all at once, unexpected and all-consuming as her eyes shut and her spine bowed with the force of her orgasm, a choked cry roaring from her throat as the world went soft and fuzzy around the edges, her blood roaring in her ears as she came in a blinding rush that left her absolutely weak. She wasn’t aware of touching him, but after she finally sagged beneath him, dimly aware that he’d come with her, the tension in her fingers and the wet warmth against one fingertip told her that she’d dug her nails into his shoulders hard enough to draw blood.
Rolling off of her, for a moment Jack just lay at her side, his body radiating warmth against her as her own skin cooled with a faint sheen of sweat, limbs and muscles already aching with exertion, and the bruises that would come by morning.
It was a long moment before she could muster enough strength to roll her head to the side, regarding him with a small smile. “I know it’s not as much fun as blaming it all on the tequila...but if you want, you can blame this on the wine.”
Silence reigned for a long moment before his muted laughter touched her ears...and as it did, she felt a strange little flood of warmth in her chest, and had to wonder if maybe they made more sense together than she initially thought.
In the end, maybe he wasn’t the only one looking to feel alive again.
