Fic: Poison (Lost)
Title: Poison
Fandom: Lost
Pairing/Character: Charlie/Shannon/Sawyer, Charlie/Shannon, (slight) Shannon/Charlie/Claire; implied Boone/Shannon, Sawyer/Shannon, Charlie/Claire.
Spoilers/Warnings: Nup. 'Cept Boone died. And I stopped watching after that.
Disclaimer: Not mine. ;/
Word Count: 698
Rating: Light R (implied sex)
Summary: It wasn't meant to mean anything.
Notes: Written for the 'Love Triangles' challenge over at cult_ships. I haven't watched Lost in ages, - and I've never written anything for this fandom - so if I were you I would expect a lot of OOC and weirdness. Anyway, his happens somewhere in season one, before and after Boone (my baby!) died; I don't remember if Charlie and Claire got together in season one, but if they did it's AU with them. Did I tell you this was weird?
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It had started way before she became depressed and almost mentally gone. She had come to him, asking for something to get rid of that feeling. He had thought she had meant drugs, but the sudden thirst that was aroused within him at the mere thought of the substance made him yearn for the sweet powder he had foolishly tossed away on that wretched plane. She didn't say anything more as his nervousness was swallowed up by her lips crashing onto his and her tongue meshing with his own.
-
It didn't hurt his feelings when he saw Sawyer push her up against a tree, his hands sliding over her body and pulling her shirt up.
-
He kissed her like he longed to kiss Claire. Soft and gentle; but Shannon was nothing like Claire. She was rough and in control and passionate against him. She would always rip his shirt off, just like the very first night she'd asked him to take away that feeling of loss, and he'd never stop her from handling him like the money from her purse.
Careless, distant, dead; because to him, Shannon was nothing but someone to touch. He never saw her as Shannon but as her, the innocent, the pregnant, and the almost unforbidden Claire.
-
It was when he realised Claire would never be a part of his life, that he took control of the reins and had pushed the blonde vixen against the sand, the little grains implanting themselves into her skin, and the waves washed up over them, soaking them to the bone as the night sky covered them like a blanket in the bed they pretended they were wrestling stark naked in.
-
It was when Boone had died that she had lunged at him. She clawed her way up his body, touching him, baring her mark with her sharp nails on his very existence, and, what surprised him even more, was when she had stopped, and had invited an outsider to join in on their little adventure.
-
Sawyer would still look at him straight in the eye, even after the previous night before, when they were coated in sweat and sandwiching the blonde brat in between them. Even though their fingers collided, Sawyer could still look at him dead on, and it unnerved him to the bone.
He felt the guilt swell up inside of him for whenever Claire gave him a sweet smile. The way she said his name set his nerves alight with fear of her knowing what had happened, instead of the usual longing he'd have to be near her.
Whenever he looked at Shannon, the world seemed to be swallowing him whole, the air around him became humid, and his heart pumped wildly against his chest. Her smile - her smirk - sent his head soaring into the clouds, forcing him to almost stumble on sand as he tried to turn away, to not look at his devil in disguise.
-
Her fingers would slide up his leg, her lips on the hollow of his throat, and her chuckle in his ear, and he'd know he wasn't dreaming about the sensations he'd never seemed to have acknowledged before. "Charlie," she growled, as she arched herself against him, intoxicating him with her poison.
The way she said his name made him want to be swallowed by the sand before he could elicit the groan longing to escape from his throat.
-
He'd see her with Sawyer, the lingering touches and the eyes that did The Naughty that their bodies were longing to perform, and the stench around him wasn't because of the island or because of the lack of soap. He could smell his jealousy a mile away, and it didn't do anything to satisfy the need that needed to be satisfied by his nightly pleasure, whom was currently chatting up the occasional excitement.
-
"I love you," she breathed, as she kissed his arm and played with Sawyer's hair. Sawyer was kissing her back as Charlie kissed her neck. He wasn't sure whom she was speaking to, but the sudden thrust in energy made him believe that it was him.
-
Fandom: Lost
Pairing/Character: Charlie/Shannon/Sawyer, Charlie/Shannon, (slight) Shannon/Charlie/Claire; implied Boone/Shannon, Sawyer/Shannon, Charlie/Claire.
Spoilers/Warnings: Nup. 'Cept Boone died. And I stopped watching after that.
Disclaimer: Not mine. ;/
Word Count: 698
Rating: Light R (implied sex)
Summary: It wasn't meant to mean anything.
Notes: Written for the 'Love Triangles' challenge over at cult_ships. I haven't watched Lost in ages, - and I've never written anything for this fandom - so if I were you I would expect a lot of OOC and weirdness. Anyway, his happens somewhere in season one, before and after Boone (my baby!) died; I don't remember if Charlie and Claire got together in season one, but if they did it's AU with them. Did I tell you this was weird?
-
It had started way before she became depressed and almost mentally gone. She had come to him, asking for something to get rid of that feeling. He had thought she had meant drugs, but the sudden thirst that was aroused within him at the mere thought of the substance made him yearn for the sweet powder he had foolishly tossed away on that wretched plane. She didn't say anything more as his nervousness was swallowed up by her lips crashing onto his and her tongue meshing with his own.
-
It didn't hurt his feelings when he saw Sawyer push her up against a tree, his hands sliding over her body and pulling her shirt up.
-
He kissed her like he longed to kiss Claire. Soft and gentle; but Shannon was nothing like Claire. She was rough and in control and passionate against him. She would always rip his shirt off, just like the very first night she'd asked him to take away that feeling of loss, and he'd never stop her from handling him like the money from her purse.
Careless, distant, dead; because to him, Shannon was nothing but someone to touch. He never saw her as Shannon but as her, the innocent, the pregnant, and the almost unforbidden Claire.
-
It was when he realised Claire would never be a part of his life, that he took control of the reins and had pushed the blonde vixen against the sand, the little grains implanting themselves into her skin, and the waves washed up over them, soaking them to the bone as the night sky covered them like a blanket in the bed they pretended they were wrestling stark naked in.
-
It was when Boone had died that she had lunged at him. She clawed her way up his body, touching him, baring her mark with her sharp nails on his very existence, and, what surprised him even more, was when she had stopped, and had invited an outsider to join in on their little adventure.
-
Sawyer would still look at him straight in the eye, even after the previous night before, when they were coated in sweat and sandwiching the blonde brat in between them. Even though their fingers collided, Sawyer could still look at him dead on, and it unnerved him to the bone.
He felt the guilt swell up inside of him for whenever Claire gave him a sweet smile. The way she said his name set his nerves alight with fear of her knowing what had happened, instead of the usual longing he'd have to be near her.
Whenever he looked at Shannon, the world seemed to be swallowing him whole, the air around him became humid, and his heart pumped wildly against his chest. Her smile - her smirk - sent his head soaring into the clouds, forcing him to almost stumble on sand as he tried to turn away, to not look at his devil in disguise.
-
Her fingers would slide up his leg, her lips on the hollow of his throat, and her chuckle in his ear, and he'd know he wasn't dreaming about the sensations he'd never seemed to have acknowledged before. "Charlie," she growled, as she arched herself against him, intoxicating him with her poison.
The way she said his name made him want to be swallowed by the sand before he could elicit the groan longing to escape from his throat.
-
He'd see her with Sawyer, the lingering touches and the eyes that did The Naughty that their bodies were longing to perform, and the stench around him wasn't because of the island or because of the lack of soap. He could smell his jealousy a mile away, and it didn't do anything to satisfy the need that needed to be satisfied by his nightly pleasure, whom was currently chatting up the occasional excitement.
-
"I love you," she breathed, as she kissed his arm and played with Sawyer's hair. Sawyer was kissing her back as Charlie kissed her neck. He wasn't sure whom she was speaking to, but the sudden thrust in energy made him believe that it was him.
-