(no subject)
we are, we're curious
lost. jack/juliet. nc-17. au season 3. 2,134 words
set post-stranger in a strange land. jack living with juliet.
for prettybutt, iorwen107 and aliasledger
note: no whip cream. no banana. but plenty of other shit to keep you happy for a loooong time. (this is for a very particular person, you know who you are). Also. No angst. That's right.
He once dreamt of fucking her up against the glass. Holding on to her ass as she rode his cock, harder and faster with ever second.
They could be caught. Any second someone could come through the hatch. They’d be exposed. Their secret. His secret.
This was his fantasy.
Her nails clawing at his shoulders, her cursing, her blouse unbuttoned only at the top and bottom, her stomach exposed, her mouth and how it never closed. Breathing in, exhaling, eyes looking up at fluorescent lights; eventually, nothing to hold on as she worried for herself, hands against the glass. “C’mon,” she’d say. “Harder.” And he’d oblige, forcing his feet into the pavement, nearly gliding. One hand holding her weight, the other next to her neck up against the glass.
“C’mon,” she said again and again, her tone visceral.
There are better times to wake up.
Perhaps finishing.
They never finished, they were never caught.
Now in her house. He sees her reaching for something, and his primal thought is how much he’d like to hear her come. Turn her around and unzip her slacks, reach under her blouse and bend over with her to bite on to her neck, lick her ear and bite the lobe, move her blonde hair away to her right shoulder then run his fingers through them, making a fist and pulling.
“Is this how you want me?”
Jack looks at her when she asks him, “Is this how you want it?”
She has an apple, some parts of it brown, rotten. He can see a hint of her skin, her blouse, pink and white and ordinary, tugged slightly the wrong way.
Her hair up, away from her face.
It takes him a moment, he blinks a couple more times and says no.
No, thank you.
After he takes a shower, he bumps into her in the hallway, of course.
Her towels are short, he’s naked, wet. A giant.
Juliet doesn’t look at any of him. Eyes on his face, a small, polite, smile. But they’re close, close enough to make a hilariously awkward mistake.
But this isn’t college, except his fantasies have had the better of him. Fucking your roommate, your college professor, your mother’s best friend, your captor, your island Other. It’s all relative.
Juliet takes this silence naturally, placing a soft hand on his arm and pushing him aside, making her way into the bathroom and shutting the door.
Through the towel, Jack scratches his crotch to pain his erection down.
The clothes they gave him are a bit small, a bit tight, but they fit. He tried them on when they arrived, making sure he had clothes to wear for the rest of his stay.
She gives him boxers when she comes out of the bathroom. “I forgot you don’t have any sleeping clothes.”
Jack takes them, looks at the design. Airplanes.
“Funny.”
Juliet agrees with a head nod.
In her bedroom, her bed unmade. When she turns around to get him more clothes, she tells him he can throw the towel where ever. He does, and by the time a shirt and a pair of sweats are in her hands, when she turns back to him, he’s got them up to his hips.
He wants her to look at his stomach, his navel, further down the trail of his hair. She doesn’t.
She walks up to him and gives him the pajamas.
He purposely touches her hand. “Thank you.”
Juliet does that look, the squint in her eyes as if she knew what he was thinking. “Don’t worry about it,” she says.
He gets the couch.
He closes his eyes.
It continues.
Now they’re here, safe, in a house. No cameras. Night, darkness.
She’s naked, her hair still up in that proper way, and she tells him to shut up when she removes the blanket off his body. She mounts him, his cock already hard and out of the slips of his boxers. Juliet grabs a hold of it, placing it right where it could enter her pussy easily.
This is like girlfriends at home summers between Columbia. When he got the couch, they’d sneak in, and moan just loud enough. Quick, easy. Breakfast was a snickering fest, feet under tables, groping at lunch, bathroom fucks at fancy restaurants in Los Angeles.
But even in his dream, Juliet has the upper hand. She gets tired of this position, and she pulls him up.
No kissing.
Funny thing about wet dreams, orgasms are never short, intense, on the way to. So when she gets off him, his disappointment is clear, the tension in his dick is gone, but the hard on is still there. The staple of wet dreams: permanent Viagra.
It isn’t enough, and light shines on him when he’s finally fucking her, her left leg stretched up and on his shoulder, Juliet’s hands on either side of his hips, helping the movement, directing him.
And he wakes up.
One minute he’s fucking her, the next its morning and she’s in the kitchen. She’s reaching for something on one of the higher cabinets and he gets up to help her.
Instinct.
Then it happens, the head turn, the simple sway of her chin towards him when half of his body is pressed up against hers. The nonverbal, “Oh.”
Jack gives her a Dharma Initiative box of pancake batter and swallows nasty morning spit.
“Toothbrush?” he asks, still there.
What was the point in mumbling backwards like an ass? None.
Still, alternatives to staying there... he would’ve taken them.
“I put an extra one for you in the medicine cabinet.”
Jack smiles. “Thanks.”
He moves away and avoids eye contact on his full turn, walking to bathroom with his dick forming a tiny mountain on his crotch.
He goes into the bathroom, breathes fast. As a doctor this was something he learned early on. Morning erections could be controlled and released without the need to jerk off; all it took was determination, thought.
It took him a few minutes, but he managed.
A part of him was trying to figure out what would happen when they faced each other again. In a few minutes he’d come out of the bathroom, pancakes done. They’d eat.
“Oh, by the way, I’m sorry I put my erect penis all up over your ass. I was having sexual fantasies about said ass and couldn’t control myself.”
No. He wasn’t that forward.
He got the toothbrush in a seal, ripped it open, and began brushing his teeth.
He spits out the first mouthful of white mint toothpaste saliva, and places the brush under the running water, wiping the excess of spit around his mouth.
The bathroom door opens and Juliet enters. She has batter on her cheek; her hair has been messed from countless times of bending down to pick up materials.
“You don’t have to cook.”
“You’re right,” she says, grabbing a towel and passing over it her dark t-shirt, spots of batter over her. “That’s why breakfast is cancelled.”
She nudges him over and reopens the medicine cabinet, her eyes dropping slightly to his torso. He notices and removes the toothbrush from his mouth.
“Sorry about that,” he says.
Juliet can’t hold her bemusement. She grins. “Don’t worry about it,” she says, grabbing a Dharma product he didn’t recognize.
And she was so fucking cute. The batter, the cooking cliché.
He kisses her, toothpaste and all. The cold sensation in his mouth suddenly tastes like the buttermilk she must’ve tasted earlier. The image of her finger in her mouth, it drove him crazy.
Juliet starts laughing against his mouth, inadvertently getting that mint taste to the back of her throat.
“Shouldn’t you finish,” she says even as his mouth continued to travel over her mouth and to her cheek and neck.
“Just needs some water,” he says, and he’s pulled her up just enough to walk them over to the shower.
He almost trips back at the small step needed to go in, the curtain going with them.
He finds the faucet handle and turns it between, the shower head drops the water on them, and he’s already on his knees, kissing her stomach as they drench.
Juliet removes the batter from her face first, combing her hair back with the water and opening her mouth to let some of the water in to rinse off the taste.
She grins as she feels his tongue, the feeling different with the water drizzling down. It feels good and clean, and it passes him that they’re clothed. She stops his mouth from going further down and brings him up, her hands on his face.
She kisses him in direct motion of the water, and it makes the texture of their tongues different. He loves it, the feel of her tongue, and he playfully twists it and makes it touch the rib above behind her teeth.
Juliet breaks away, her lips enclosed on his tongue all the way until they were apart. And Jack smiles, his hands on her back, her shirt heavy. He lets the water fall over his eyes and he enjoys the shiny curtain it makes on his view. He lifts her shirt up, removing it, and drops it out of the shower, his hands sliding back down between her and feeling the sides of her breasts. He goes down with his hands and his puts his mouth over her nipple and sucks, feeling her hands on the back of his head, her nails scratching.
As Jack mouths her torso, Juliet tugs at the end of his shirt and removes it over his head, stopping him momentarily. She drops it just like he did with hers, a smug grin on her face when he lifts his chin up to look at her.
Their pants and underwear fall down of their own weight and it isn’t long before they’re nude. More kisses, their breathing scattered, muffled by the water.
Jack loves the feel of her with him, likes how she brushes her face against his body as his own travels to her neck. Her hands travel slowly, but not in a curious way. It was for her, feeling him, his body, the creases on his back and his hard ass. She pulled them to the wall and he entered her, one of her legs stretched to the other end of the wall.
She was that tall, her legs were that long.
She dropped on her hands from his neck to the wall. The water falling so it only hit their sides.
Jack held on to her hips and with her help began moving her to his thrusts. She was looking at where their bodies joined, her expression rough, trying.
Jack swallowed his pride. This wasn’t a dream. Fucking wasn’t a magical, unicorn ride where orgasms burst out of them.
She was concerned. This, right there, in the middle of it.
“I wanted to fuck you,” he says, picking her up so they were closer, against the wall.
Juliet breathes hard. “You did?”
“I wanted to fuck you against the glass, when we were in the Hydra,” he elaborates. He spreads her ass cheeks against his hips and fucks her deeper. She opens her mouth as the rush of pain went over her.
Jack let his other hand creep up hard on her side, up to her breast, his thumb on her nipple and it digging, pulling, and then letting go.
Juliet closed her mouth and began to breathe hard to her nose. “What else did you want to do to me?”
Jack thrusts into her again, harder, sending her up. Juliet didn’t bite, holding in her moan. “I wanted to bend you over, your hands on the glass. I wanted you to come so hard.” Juliet places her hands on his arms and digs her nails in. “And I wanted to get caught,” he continues. “I wanted it to be our only shot.”
Juliet grins, her hips relaxing, her muscles calming. She let her hips grind against his, and she welcomed his next hard thrust, her exhale strong and moaning. “Our only shot,” she repeats.
“So it had to be fast,” he adds.
“Fast?”
Jack goes slower, forcing her hips nearly still, letting him do all the work. “Fast,” he says.
Juliet closes her eyes and draws her head back, her chin up. She lets him work, lets him continue the rhythm inside her. She could feel the heat rising in her pussy, the tingling sensation starting in her center and spreading to the nerves on the end of her fingers and toes.
“Faster,” she breathes out.
Jack keeps the pace, and he says yes.
.end
lost. jack/juliet. nc-17. au season 3. 2,134 words
set post-stranger in a strange land. jack living with juliet.
for prettybutt, iorwen107 and aliasledger
note: no whip cream. no banana. but plenty of other shit to keep you happy for a loooong time. (this is for a very particular person, you know who you are). Also. No angst. That's right.
He once dreamt of fucking her up against the glass. Holding on to her ass as she rode his cock, harder and faster with ever second.
They could be caught. Any second someone could come through the hatch. They’d be exposed. Their secret. His secret.
This was his fantasy.
Her nails clawing at his shoulders, her cursing, her blouse unbuttoned only at the top and bottom, her stomach exposed, her mouth and how it never closed. Breathing in, exhaling, eyes looking up at fluorescent lights; eventually, nothing to hold on as she worried for herself, hands against the glass. “C’mon,” she’d say. “Harder.” And he’d oblige, forcing his feet into the pavement, nearly gliding. One hand holding her weight, the other next to her neck up against the glass.
“C’mon,” she said again and again, her tone visceral.
There are better times to wake up.
Perhaps finishing.
They never finished, they were never caught.
Now in her house. He sees her reaching for something, and his primal thought is how much he’d like to hear her come. Turn her around and unzip her slacks, reach under her blouse and bend over with her to bite on to her neck, lick her ear and bite the lobe, move her blonde hair away to her right shoulder then run his fingers through them, making a fist and pulling.
“Is this how you want me?”
Jack looks at her when she asks him, “Is this how you want it?”
She has an apple, some parts of it brown, rotten. He can see a hint of her skin, her blouse, pink and white and ordinary, tugged slightly the wrong way.
Her hair up, away from her face.
It takes him a moment, he blinks a couple more times and says no.
No, thank you.
After he takes a shower, he bumps into her in the hallway, of course.
Her towels are short, he’s naked, wet. A giant.
Juliet doesn’t look at any of him. Eyes on his face, a small, polite, smile. But they’re close, close enough to make a hilariously awkward mistake.
But this isn’t college, except his fantasies have had the better of him. Fucking your roommate, your college professor, your mother’s best friend, your captor, your island Other. It’s all relative.
Juliet takes this silence naturally, placing a soft hand on his arm and pushing him aside, making her way into the bathroom and shutting the door.
Through the towel, Jack scratches his crotch to pain his erection down.
The clothes they gave him are a bit small, a bit tight, but they fit. He tried them on when they arrived, making sure he had clothes to wear for the rest of his stay.
She gives him boxers when she comes out of the bathroom. “I forgot you don’t have any sleeping clothes.”
Jack takes them, looks at the design. Airplanes.
“Funny.”
Juliet agrees with a head nod.
In her bedroom, her bed unmade. When she turns around to get him more clothes, she tells him he can throw the towel where ever. He does, and by the time a shirt and a pair of sweats are in her hands, when she turns back to him, he’s got them up to his hips.
He wants her to look at his stomach, his navel, further down the trail of his hair. She doesn’t.
She walks up to him and gives him the pajamas.
He purposely touches her hand. “Thank you.”
Juliet does that look, the squint in her eyes as if she knew what he was thinking. “Don’t worry about it,” she says.
He gets the couch.
He closes his eyes.
It continues.
Now they’re here, safe, in a house. No cameras. Night, darkness.
She’s naked, her hair still up in that proper way, and she tells him to shut up when she removes the blanket off his body. She mounts him, his cock already hard and out of the slips of his boxers. Juliet grabs a hold of it, placing it right where it could enter her pussy easily.
This is like girlfriends at home summers between Columbia. When he got the couch, they’d sneak in, and moan just loud enough. Quick, easy. Breakfast was a snickering fest, feet under tables, groping at lunch, bathroom fucks at fancy restaurants in Los Angeles.
But even in his dream, Juliet has the upper hand. She gets tired of this position, and she pulls him up.
No kissing.
Funny thing about wet dreams, orgasms are never short, intense, on the way to. So when she gets off him, his disappointment is clear, the tension in his dick is gone, but the hard on is still there. The staple of wet dreams: permanent Viagra.
It isn’t enough, and light shines on him when he’s finally fucking her, her left leg stretched up and on his shoulder, Juliet’s hands on either side of his hips, helping the movement, directing him.
And he wakes up.
One minute he’s fucking her, the next its morning and she’s in the kitchen. She’s reaching for something on one of the higher cabinets and he gets up to help her.
Instinct.
Then it happens, the head turn, the simple sway of her chin towards him when half of his body is pressed up against hers. The nonverbal, “Oh.”
Jack gives her a Dharma Initiative box of pancake batter and swallows nasty morning spit.
“Toothbrush?” he asks, still there.
What was the point in mumbling backwards like an ass? None.
Still, alternatives to staying there... he would’ve taken them.
“I put an extra one for you in the medicine cabinet.”
Jack smiles. “Thanks.”
He moves away and avoids eye contact on his full turn, walking to bathroom with his dick forming a tiny mountain on his crotch.
He goes into the bathroom, breathes fast. As a doctor this was something he learned early on. Morning erections could be controlled and released without the need to jerk off; all it took was determination, thought.
It took him a few minutes, but he managed.
A part of him was trying to figure out what would happen when they faced each other again. In a few minutes he’d come out of the bathroom, pancakes done. They’d eat.
“Oh, by the way, I’m sorry I put my erect penis all up over your ass. I was having sexual fantasies about said ass and couldn’t control myself.”
No. He wasn’t that forward.
He got the toothbrush in a seal, ripped it open, and began brushing his teeth.
He spits out the first mouthful of white mint toothpaste saliva, and places the brush under the running water, wiping the excess of spit around his mouth.
The bathroom door opens and Juliet enters. She has batter on her cheek; her hair has been messed from countless times of bending down to pick up materials.
“You don’t have to cook.”
“You’re right,” she says, grabbing a towel and passing over it her dark t-shirt, spots of batter over her. “That’s why breakfast is cancelled.”
She nudges him over and reopens the medicine cabinet, her eyes dropping slightly to his torso. He notices and removes the toothbrush from his mouth.
“Sorry about that,” he says.
Juliet can’t hold her bemusement. She grins. “Don’t worry about it,” she says, grabbing a Dharma product he didn’t recognize.
And she was so fucking cute. The batter, the cooking cliché.
He kisses her, toothpaste and all. The cold sensation in his mouth suddenly tastes like the buttermilk she must’ve tasted earlier. The image of her finger in her mouth, it drove him crazy.
Juliet starts laughing against his mouth, inadvertently getting that mint taste to the back of her throat.
“Shouldn’t you finish,” she says even as his mouth continued to travel over her mouth and to her cheek and neck.
“Just needs some water,” he says, and he’s pulled her up just enough to walk them over to the shower.
He almost trips back at the small step needed to go in, the curtain going with them.
He finds the faucet handle and turns it between, the shower head drops the water on them, and he’s already on his knees, kissing her stomach as they drench.
Juliet removes the batter from her face first, combing her hair back with the water and opening her mouth to let some of the water in to rinse off the taste.
She grins as she feels his tongue, the feeling different with the water drizzling down. It feels good and clean, and it passes him that they’re clothed. She stops his mouth from going further down and brings him up, her hands on his face.
She kisses him in direct motion of the water, and it makes the texture of their tongues different. He loves it, the feel of her tongue, and he playfully twists it and makes it touch the rib above behind her teeth.
Juliet breaks away, her lips enclosed on his tongue all the way until they were apart. And Jack smiles, his hands on her back, her shirt heavy. He lets the water fall over his eyes and he enjoys the shiny curtain it makes on his view. He lifts her shirt up, removing it, and drops it out of the shower, his hands sliding back down between her and feeling the sides of her breasts. He goes down with his hands and his puts his mouth over her nipple and sucks, feeling her hands on the back of his head, her nails scratching.
As Jack mouths her torso, Juliet tugs at the end of his shirt and removes it over his head, stopping him momentarily. She drops it just like he did with hers, a smug grin on her face when he lifts his chin up to look at her.
Their pants and underwear fall down of their own weight and it isn’t long before they’re nude. More kisses, their breathing scattered, muffled by the water.
Jack loves the feel of her with him, likes how she brushes her face against his body as his own travels to her neck. Her hands travel slowly, but not in a curious way. It was for her, feeling him, his body, the creases on his back and his hard ass. She pulled them to the wall and he entered her, one of her legs stretched to the other end of the wall.
She was that tall, her legs were that long.
She dropped on her hands from his neck to the wall. The water falling so it only hit their sides.
Jack held on to her hips and with her help began moving her to his thrusts. She was looking at where their bodies joined, her expression rough, trying.
Jack swallowed his pride. This wasn’t a dream. Fucking wasn’t a magical, unicorn ride where orgasms burst out of them.
She was concerned. This, right there, in the middle of it.
“I wanted to fuck you,” he says, picking her up so they were closer, against the wall.
Juliet breathes hard. “You did?”
“I wanted to fuck you against the glass, when we were in the Hydra,” he elaborates. He spreads her ass cheeks against his hips and fucks her deeper. She opens her mouth as the rush of pain went over her.
Jack let his other hand creep up hard on her side, up to her breast, his thumb on her nipple and it digging, pulling, and then letting go.
Juliet closed her mouth and began to breathe hard to her nose. “What else did you want to do to me?”
Jack thrusts into her again, harder, sending her up. Juliet didn’t bite, holding in her moan. “I wanted to bend you over, your hands on the glass. I wanted you to come so hard.” Juliet places her hands on his arms and digs her nails in. “And I wanted to get caught,” he continues. “I wanted it to be our only shot.”
Juliet grins, her hips relaxing, her muscles calming. She let her hips grind against his, and she welcomed his next hard thrust, her exhale strong and moaning. “Our only shot,” she repeats.
“So it had to be fast,” he adds.
“Fast?”
Jack goes slower, forcing her hips nearly still, letting him do all the work. “Fast,” he says.
Juliet closes her eyes and draws her head back, her chin up. She lets him work, lets him continue the rhythm inside her. She could feel the heat rising in her pussy, the tingling sensation starting in her center and spreading to the nerves on the end of her fingers and toes.
“Faster,” she breathes out.
Jack keeps the pace, and he says yes.
.end