The Cardinal Sins
The Cardinal Sins
PhDelicious
Rating: Adult-ish
Fandom: Stargate SG1
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Spoilers: Consider everything fair game.
A/N: This is a series of short ficlets based around the prompt of the seven deadly sins, written for a a certain group of ladies.
LUST -- Jack
You’ve wanted her since the beginning, and the experiences you’ve shared through the years have done nothing but strengthen your desire. You admire her brain, which can run circles around yours. You love her personality; her loyalty, determination, and support have saved your collective asses more times than you care to count. But you lust for her body.
For nearly a decade you’ve fantasized about having her, on her back, on her knees, on her feet, in a bed, in your office, in her lab, even off world. You’ve imagined spreading her open before you and working her up with fingers and tongue until she’s screaming above you and clutching at the fingers embedded within her. You’ve fought the impulse to force her to her knees and show her that there are better uses for her mouth than speaking techno-babble. You’ve prayed for the opportunity to slide slowly into her, unconcerned about the chaos that has characterized your lives.
Occasionally, it occurs to you that this is not normal, to be so focused for so long on a woman you’ve never had. This all consuming lust would bother you, but you’ve seen its twin in her eyes and felt the flame of it in the heat of her mouth against yours. If this is a sin you will gladly suffer the fires of Hell, as long as you get to experience the press of her bare breasts against your chest and the warm heat of her depths wrapped around your cock before you go.
ENVY -- Sam
You don’t want to be jealous of yourself, but it’s probing impossible despite the fact that her Jack is dead. The blatant happiness shining from your… their wedding photo hits you like a staff blast to the gut, but you can’t get the image out of your head. Even as her world crumbles around her you see his arms wrapped comfortably around her shoulders in a completely innocent gesture and can’t help but wonder how it would feel in an intimate setting. Alone in your quarters you allow your mind to wander.
He is hard and hot as he steps firmly up against your back. Rough hands slip over your shoulders and down the swell of your chest, nimble fingers caressing you. His arms cross and his hands turn to cup your breasts, teasing your nipples to aching points. Your head falls back on his shoulder and one hand lifts to clutch in his hair, while the other toys with the waist band of your BDU pants.
His mouth drops to the crook of your neck for a quick kiss before his tongue trails up to pull your ear lobe into his mouth. One hand moves southward in tantalizing counter-point to cover yours. Together you push past the cloth barrier. He presses your fingers to your clit and slides beyond them, circling teasingly before slipping home deep inside your body. He moves inside you, stroking against your sweet spot. His foot nudges you to widen your stance and the change in angle sets your heart thudding loudly in your ears.
Distantly you realize that the thudding is him knocking at your door. There are, in reality, several feet of air and a few more inches of steel and concrete separating you from him. You sigh and pull back from the fantasy. Duty calls and you had better answer it. You need to send yourself home before you give in to the temptation to take her out for having everything you’ve never allowed yourself to dream of.
WRATH -- Jack
You pound the bag into submission, picturing his face in its stead. Stupid ass cop! Trailing your team, screwing up your operation! Dating Carter doesn’t give him the right to interfere with her life! And yes, even as you beat the crap out of the bag, you are well aware of the irony of contemplating rights when it comes to Carter.
You have none, never will.
Her face appears before you in place of his for a moment and your body stops responding to your brain’s commands. Even when she’s not real you can’t find it in yourself to hurt her. You step away from the bag and close you eyes, trying to force Carter and her boyfriend from her thoughts. You reach back through the years, searching for someone else to focus your anger and aggression on, but all you can see is blond hair and brilliant blue eyes. You cock your arm back to punch through the image and your elbow slams into soft flesh.
“Sir?”
The voice is that of your tormentor and you spin around to face her, but your feet tangle in her legs and you both fall to the mats. She lands beneath you and the feel of her body yielding to yours sends your anger searching for another form of release. You glare down at her, hips forcing her flat. You know you should roll off of her and leave well enough alone, but she’s here and this could well be your last chance, because she belongs to him now. Her lips part on a ragged breath and her tongue darts out drawing your eyes. You rock against her instinctively, expecting a protest.
“Sir,” she breathes and it’s more request than protest, her voice hitching and her hips tilting towards you. You’re drawn to her like a moth to flame, determined to drive any lingering thoughts of the cop from her head, to finally claim her as your own.
Your lips whisper over hers and she’s the one who closes the distance. She arches up against you then gathers herself as if to flip you, but your emotions are still running high. With a growl you pin her hands above her head, dominating your interaction, turning the kiss into a brutal melding of lips and mating of tongues. You grind your growing erection into the heat between her thighs and the whimper that escapes her causes you to tighten to the point of pain.
The urge to take her on the gym floor is so strong that it crosses your mind to wonder if the Brocca Virus has some how begun spreading through you again. You shift to bracket her wrists with one hand and just as you’re reaching down with the other to tear away her shirt the gym door opens.
“Jack? Sam?”
Cursing Daniel and his timing under your breath, you roll away from the only place you want to be and push to your feet. You give your friend no answer. Instead you turn your back on the other people in the room and return to slamming your bare fists into the bag. Bruised and bloody knuckles are a small price to pay as atonement for this release.
PRIDE -- Sam
He’s been trying to catch you alone for the past few days and you’ve been working just as hard at avoiding him. You can’t be around him right now, not without losing it and that is something you can’t allow. You’ve broken down in front of practically everyone else; you refuse to add your erstwhile CO to the list.
While you may be pathetic enough to continue to love him after he’s disrespected, deceived, and denied you, that doesn’t mean he has to know. Maybe you should just take Janet up on her offer to recommend and extended vacation, at least then you wouldn’t have to see him every day. You look both ways before ducking out of your office and heading for the infirmary.
Normally you’d head for the elevator, but that’s too much time in an enclosed space when you can’t be sure where the Colonel is. Except, now you do know, because he’s standing between your and the stairs, freedom. You’re tempeted to flee, back to the security of your lab, but you know that he’s faster. Instead you square your shoulders and stalk towards him, intent on ignoring him.
He steps aside, allowing you to shoulder past him into the stairwell, following close behind you. When you continue to walk away from him, his hand shoots out to clamp over your shoulder.
“Carter…”
You can hear the guilt and pain filtering into his voice. And you’d be tempted to forgive him already, if you hadn’t spent three months working your fingers to the bone to rescue his ungrateful ass only to be ignored and dismissed. You move to shrug out from under his hand, but his grip tightens. You start to struggle in earnest when his other hand wraps around your waist.
“Carter…please…”
He’s begging and you can feel yourself breaking. You whirl from his arms, but he continues to advance on you, backing you into a corner, both literally and figuratively. You throw your hands up to stop his approach and he halts, just inside your personal space.
He is heat and warmth and life and standing in front of you when the laws of the universe say he shouldn’t be and it’s too much and not enough at the same time. You can feel it coming, your body shutting down, breaking the link to your mind, your control. Your eyes dart around the empty stairwell, avoiding his face, looking for an escape, another miracle, because as bad as having him gone was, having him back is worse. You’re one step closer to the fall, but your pride hasn’t deserted you quite yet.
“Sir, please. I, we can’t…don’t…please.” You know you’re begging and you can’t meet his eyes, staring over his shoulder at a non-existent spot on the wall, seeing, but not with the blank look every cadet learns to perfect.
A hand brushes over your cheek, and even if you can’t control the shudders running through the rest of your body, you have enough strength to hold your head still. Theirs is no advancing or retreating, only strategic stillness. The Colonel breaks first and suddenly you are free.
You bolt up the steps, barely suppressing the need to take them two at a time. His voice is soft, but it’s enough to make you pause at the top of the flight as he pulls out the big guns.
“Sam.”
You wait, poised at the door, not turning around, knowing that if you did the anguish you’d see would toss your pride to the wayside and you need just a little bit more from him before you can allow that to happen. But nothing comes.
Your back straightens and you walk through the door, out of the stairwell. As the door closes behind you, you fight the urge to sink back against it and lose yourself in your whirling emotions. Luckily there’s a storage closet across the corridor that will do and if the guy on security detail notices, well it won’t be the first time and you won’t have to look him in the eyes after.
Gluttony, Greed, and Sloth to follow.
PhDelicious
Rating: Adult-ish
Fandom: Stargate SG1
Pairing: Sam/Jack
Spoilers: Consider everything fair game.
A/N: This is a series of short ficlets based around the prompt of the seven deadly sins, written for a a certain group of ladies.
LUST -- Jack
You’ve wanted her since the beginning, and the experiences you’ve shared through the years have done nothing but strengthen your desire. You admire her brain, which can run circles around yours. You love her personality; her loyalty, determination, and support have saved your collective asses more times than you care to count. But you lust for her body.
For nearly a decade you’ve fantasized about having her, on her back, on her knees, on her feet, in a bed, in your office, in her lab, even off world. You’ve imagined spreading her open before you and working her up with fingers and tongue until she’s screaming above you and clutching at the fingers embedded within her. You’ve fought the impulse to force her to her knees and show her that there are better uses for her mouth than speaking techno-babble. You’ve prayed for the opportunity to slide slowly into her, unconcerned about the chaos that has characterized your lives.
Occasionally, it occurs to you that this is not normal, to be so focused for so long on a woman you’ve never had. This all consuming lust would bother you, but you’ve seen its twin in her eyes and felt the flame of it in the heat of her mouth against yours. If this is a sin you will gladly suffer the fires of Hell, as long as you get to experience the press of her bare breasts against your chest and the warm heat of her depths wrapped around your cock before you go.
ENVY -- Sam
You don’t want to be jealous of yourself, but it’s probing impossible despite the fact that her Jack is dead. The blatant happiness shining from your… their wedding photo hits you like a staff blast to the gut, but you can’t get the image out of your head. Even as her world crumbles around her you see his arms wrapped comfortably around her shoulders in a completely innocent gesture and can’t help but wonder how it would feel in an intimate setting. Alone in your quarters you allow your mind to wander.
He is hard and hot as he steps firmly up against your back. Rough hands slip over your shoulders and down the swell of your chest, nimble fingers caressing you. His arms cross and his hands turn to cup your breasts, teasing your nipples to aching points. Your head falls back on his shoulder and one hand lifts to clutch in his hair, while the other toys with the waist band of your BDU pants.
His mouth drops to the crook of your neck for a quick kiss before his tongue trails up to pull your ear lobe into his mouth. One hand moves southward in tantalizing counter-point to cover yours. Together you push past the cloth barrier. He presses your fingers to your clit and slides beyond them, circling teasingly before slipping home deep inside your body. He moves inside you, stroking against your sweet spot. His foot nudges you to widen your stance and the change in angle sets your heart thudding loudly in your ears.
Distantly you realize that the thudding is him knocking at your door. There are, in reality, several feet of air and a few more inches of steel and concrete separating you from him. You sigh and pull back from the fantasy. Duty calls and you had better answer it. You need to send yourself home before you give in to the temptation to take her out for having everything you’ve never allowed yourself to dream of.
WRATH -- Jack
You pound the bag into submission, picturing his face in its stead. Stupid ass cop! Trailing your team, screwing up your operation! Dating Carter doesn’t give him the right to interfere with her life! And yes, even as you beat the crap out of the bag, you are well aware of the irony of contemplating rights when it comes to Carter.
You have none, never will.
Her face appears before you in place of his for a moment and your body stops responding to your brain’s commands. Even when she’s not real you can’t find it in yourself to hurt her. You step away from the bag and close you eyes, trying to force Carter and her boyfriend from her thoughts. You reach back through the years, searching for someone else to focus your anger and aggression on, but all you can see is blond hair and brilliant blue eyes. You cock your arm back to punch through the image and your elbow slams into soft flesh.
“Sir?”
The voice is that of your tormentor and you spin around to face her, but your feet tangle in her legs and you both fall to the mats. She lands beneath you and the feel of her body yielding to yours sends your anger searching for another form of release. You glare down at her, hips forcing her flat. You know you should roll off of her and leave well enough alone, but she’s here and this could well be your last chance, because she belongs to him now. Her lips part on a ragged breath and her tongue darts out drawing your eyes. You rock against her instinctively, expecting a protest.
“Sir,” she breathes and it’s more request than protest, her voice hitching and her hips tilting towards you. You’re drawn to her like a moth to flame, determined to drive any lingering thoughts of the cop from her head, to finally claim her as your own.
Your lips whisper over hers and she’s the one who closes the distance. She arches up against you then gathers herself as if to flip you, but your emotions are still running high. With a growl you pin her hands above her head, dominating your interaction, turning the kiss into a brutal melding of lips and mating of tongues. You grind your growing erection into the heat between her thighs and the whimper that escapes her causes you to tighten to the point of pain.
The urge to take her on the gym floor is so strong that it crosses your mind to wonder if the Brocca Virus has some how begun spreading through you again. You shift to bracket her wrists with one hand and just as you’re reaching down with the other to tear away her shirt the gym door opens.
“Jack? Sam?”
Cursing Daniel and his timing under your breath, you roll away from the only place you want to be and push to your feet. You give your friend no answer. Instead you turn your back on the other people in the room and return to slamming your bare fists into the bag. Bruised and bloody knuckles are a small price to pay as atonement for this release.
PRIDE -- Sam
He’s been trying to catch you alone for the past few days and you’ve been working just as hard at avoiding him. You can’t be around him right now, not without losing it and that is something you can’t allow. You’ve broken down in front of practically everyone else; you refuse to add your erstwhile CO to the list.
While you may be pathetic enough to continue to love him after he’s disrespected, deceived, and denied you, that doesn’t mean he has to know. Maybe you should just take Janet up on her offer to recommend and extended vacation, at least then you wouldn’t have to see him every day. You look both ways before ducking out of your office and heading for the infirmary.
Normally you’d head for the elevator, but that’s too much time in an enclosed space when you can’t be sure where the Colonel is. Except, now you do know, because he’s standing between your and the stairs, freedom. You’re tempeted to flee, back to the security of your lab, but you know that he’s faster. Instead you square your shoulders and stalk towards him, intent on ignoring him.
He steps aside, allowing you to shoulder past him into the stairwell, following close behind you. When you continue to walk away from him, his hand shoots out to clamp over your shoulder.
“Carter…”
You can hear the guilt and pain filtering into his voice. And you’d be tempted to forgive him already, if you hadn’t spent three months working your fingers to the bone to rescue his ungrateful ass only to be ignored and dismissed. You move to shrug out from under his hand, but his grip tightens. You start to struggle in earnest when his other hand wraps around your waist.
“Carter…please…”
He’s begging and you can feel yourself breaking. You whirl from his arms, but he continues to advance on you, backing you into a corner, both literally and figuratively. You throw your hands up to stop his approach and he halts, just inside your personal space.
He is heat and warmth and life and standing in front of you when the laws of the universe say he shouldn’t be and it’s too much and not enough at the same time. You can feel it coming, your body shutting down, breaking the link to your mind, your control. Your eyes dart around the empty stairwell, avoiding his face, looking for an escape, another miracle, because as bad as having him gone was, having him back is worse. You’re one step closer to the fall, but your pride hasn’t deserted you quite yet.
“Sir, please. I, we can’t…don’t…please.” You know you’re begging and you can’t meet his eyes, staring over his shoulder at a non-existent spot on the wall, seeing, but not with the blank look every cadet learns to perfect.
A hand brushes over your cheek, and even if you can’t control the shudders running through the rest of your body, you have enough strength to hold your head still. Theirs is no advancing or retreating, only strategic stillness. The Colonel breaks first and suddenly you are free.
You bolt up the steps, barely suppressing the need to take them two at a time. His voice is soft, but it’s enough to make you pause at the top of the flight as he pulls out the big guns.
“Sam.”
You wait, poised at the door, not turning around, knowing that if you did the anguish you’d see would toss your pride to the wayside and you need just a little bit more from him before you can allow that to happen. But nothing comes.
Your back straightens and you walk through the door, out of the stairwell. As the door closes behind you, you fight the urge to sink back against it and lose yourself in your whirling emotions. Luckily there’s a storage closet across the corridor that will do and if the guy on security detail notices, well it won’t be the first time and you won’t have to look him in the eyes after.
Gluttony, Greed, and Sloth to follow.