RepliCarter/Jack, RepliCarter/Jack, RepliCarter/Jack,
Dark!Jack, dark sex, allusions to violence
RepliCarter/Jack, RepliCarter/Jack, RepliCarter/Jack,
This is a response to a conversation that happened on Twitter today.
Written according to quick draft rules–meaning beta, no major edits, just grammar and spelling corrections (I hope I caught them all >.<).
Also, after I was done, I realized this story became something much deeper than just sex somehow. Ugh… Not sure how that layer sneaked in there. But it makes Jack come across as a bit of an ass in the end–still, it kinda fits with his attitude towards Repli!Carter on the show. And y’all like dark!Jack, so here ya go.
This is not a Sam/Jack pairing, but Repli!Carter/Jack.
Lips locked with hers, he shoved her up against the wall. A grunt broke from her, the sound muffled by the kiss. When her arm hit the shelf above, she sent books raining down on them. Ouch.
Who cared, though? He sure as hell didn’t, and neither did she.
She cupped his face and nipped his lower lip in a stinging bite. Before he realized her intention, she spun them around, pinning his hands to the front of the shelf. Her strength was impressive, but he’d be damned if he let her get the upper hand in this.
Growling, he shoved against her shoulders. Then again, more forceful.
This isn’t Carter.
As much as she looked like her, used that the same voice and wore the same hairstyle, this version was much stronger than his Carter. No need for chivalry.
He yanked his arm out of her grip and fisted his hand in her hair. Satisfaction surged through him at her gasp. So she hadn’t expected him to match her strength. Well, she was in for a surprise.
He searched her blue eyes and for a moment something resembling fear flashed in them. Could’ve fooled him had he not known she was an illusion, created by millions of tiny replicators. A very hot illusion.
Who even smelled like Carter. Tasted like her. Fucked like her?
A grim smile pulled at his mouth. So if the vicious little replicator wanted to play, he’d give her a game. He yanked her towards him and ravaged her mouth. Served her right for toying with him like this. Posing as his Carter to trick him into revealing classified information deserved some punishment.
“Sir…” She panted, her dark blue eyes wide, her pupils dilating. Impressive accuracy of mannerisms and behavior.
“Don’t you Sir me.” He pushed her backwards until her back hit the table. “Lose the pants.”
“Sir!” She gave him a deer in the headlights look, and he rolled his eyes.
“And cut the crap. We both know that’s not you.”
She froze for a moment, before a devilish smile spread across her lips. “You’re right. What does it take to fool you?”
“More than you got to offer.” Which didn’t mean he couldn’t still take what she had to offer and revel in the fantasy. Just for a moment. Just to refresh his memory of the actual Carter. How she’d tasted and writhed under his mouth. How she’d sighed her release when she came. Damn, how much he wanted it to be her instead. Why was there never a time loop around when one needed it?
Carter—no, RepliCarter—gave him a teasing smile, looking at him from under her lashes. Then her pants dissolved in a glowing light, leaving her bare to his sight. “Is this what you want, Sir?”
“Gettin’ there.” So the whole Replicator thing did have advantages after all. She reached for his arms, but he slapped her hand away. “We’ll do this my way, or no way.”
For the first time, hesitation flickered in her eyes. Interesting. He couldn’t physically hurt her, so why the insecurity? He leaned in and nipped her earlobe. “Scared?”
She scoffed. “Don’t kid yourself. I could break your neck in an instant.”
“Which brings up an interesting question. Why don’t you?”
“You pose no threat to me. It would be a waste of energy.”
“And this isn’t?” He placed his hands on the table and leaned down, bracing himself on his arms. “What is it you really want?”
Her hand shot up and grabbed his nape in a steel grip while her other hand fumbled with his belt. “For now? Less talk, more action.”
Definitely not Carter. Still, close enough. Once she’d opened his pants, he grabbed her soft, round ass and pulled her close to the edge of the table. Then he searched her face. “You’re not gonna give me some weird STD, are ya?”
She let herself fall back, her chest shaking with soft, very feminine laughter. “As I said, if I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead now.”
Good point. Besides, she wouldn’t need sex to infect him with some odd machine virus. He grabbed her hand and pinned it to the desk next to her head, before he leaned down and nipped her chin. “Brace yourself, I’m not gonna be gentle.”
“You’re such a fucked up thing.”
“Look who’s talking, General.”
Anger built inside him. Maybe because she had a point.
“You gotta learn when to shut up.” Clamping his hand over her mouth, he thrust into her warm, welcoming body. God, she felt good. So tight, but so ready for him.
She tried to turn her head and writhe out of his grip, but he didn’t give in. His hand muffled her angry scream. He forced her head to the side and brushed her check with his nose, while he picked up a hard, relentless pace. If this were the real Carter, he’d use a much different approach. But this one didn’t deserve gentleness. “Still convinced I don’t pose a threat?”
She gave a moan in response, her eyes falling closed. He slowed, giving her a few more deliberate thrusts. Pleasure tingled in his balls, when she wrapped those endless legs around his hips, drawing him deeper. Shit.
He buried his face in her neck. Now her mannerisms did resemble Carter’s way too much. She squirmed against his hand, and he loosened his grip. Her soft sighs and moans filled the room.
“Sir.” She clasped his biceps. Hard. No difference from the real one at all anymore.
He growled and bit her neck when the pain from her fingernails short-circuited something in his brain. He pounded into her, each stabbing thrust underline by a growl. “Don’t. Call. Me. Sir.”
She hadn’t earned the right to call him that. Not when they were doing this. Not ever.
When she gasped, her hand clawing at his shoulder, he lifted his head. Her gaze held his, but she seemed to look through him. Skin flushed and lips parted, she looked like she’d jumped right out of one of the fantasies he’d had during the past three years. Since that one time loop when he and his Carter had…
She let out a soft scream and arched her back, her inner muscles rippling around him as she came. All illusion. It had to be. But he was way too close to stop now and so he followed an instant later.
When he found her gaze again, every muscle inside him tensed. Her fingers caressed the hair at his nape. Her blue eyes had darkened and glistened in the cold light of the lab. So vulnerable. So warm. As though she cared about him.
He threaded his fingers through her hair. Just a replicator. A machine. A collection of tiny bugs forming an eerie double of Sam Carter, made to infiltrate the SG-C.
He straightened and pulled out of her. “Get dressed.”
A breathless nod was all he got, and when she got up he could swear she trembled.
Just. A. Fucking. Replicator.
Her fingers grazed his hand, and before he had a chance to withdraw, she leaned in from behind. Her warm breath washed along his neck. “Thank you.”
The words echoed in his mind and took a moment to process. When he finally turned, she’d left.
He swallowed against the unease in his stomach. What the hell had just happened? She was just a killer, nothing like his Carter. And still, for a moment there, she could’ve fooled him.
The End (November 17, 2015)
Read the sequel for this story: Double Demise
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Now I’m sad for Repli!Carter, and I wanna create a Repli!Jack for her, so she can get her happy ending, too. Damn it. What did I just do?