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no more dreaming...

Fanfiction: Primary

Fanfiction: Primary

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Title: Primary
Rating: NC-17/MA for sexual content
Word Count: 4,455
Summary: “Sex.” She spoke the word like magic, a chant not to be overused, the way Ben said the name of Jacob. “I want to, I’m ready.”  The Prequel to an earlier fic of mine, "Anything You Want" (http://the-hostiles.livejournal.com/3641.html)
Pairings: young!Alex/Richard, implied young!Eloise/Richard, mention of one-sided Ben/young!Alex
Characters: Richard and Alex, mentions of Ben
Prompt: Conversations with and several fics from bittersweet325
Notes: This story explores an emotional and physical relationship between an adult man and a twelve-year-old minor girl. Issues of consent are mostly clear, but there are some grey areas that could be read as dub-con or non-con. If the things described in this story happened in real life, many would call them morally wrong and possibly illegal. I don't condone these types of actions in real life, only in the world of storytelling. Ah yes, and lobsters are slaughtered, too. If you think this fic will offend you, please don't read it! There are many other choices available within the Lost fandom that will suit most any taste.

Alex at twelve was an interesting mystery. Richard remembered the bland, if sweet, child she had been at eleven and felt a thrill of arousal every time he considered what changes would be wrought by the time she reached thirteen.

    "What are you doing there, Alex?" Richard asked her, one glorious afternoon. In the northern hemisphere, it was winter, but on the island, it was warm bliss, as usual.

    She was sitting on the end of the dock that had once served the Pala ferry for the Dharma Initiative, dressed in faded shorts and an old tank top, the strap of which continually slipped down her tanned shoulders, exposing a strip of paler flesh beneath, where the suns rays had been unable to extend. Her hair was in plaits, dark locks trailing down her back, and she was barefoot, up to her knees in water.

    "Fishing," she called back, not paying him much attention as she worked the reel of her line. That suited Richard fine. For the past eight months he had lived for the stolen moments when he could watch her unobserved, his gaze studying the girlish hips just beginning to flare, the hint of undeveloped chest beneath her top. "Reading," she amended a moment later, jerking her head toward the book she'd tossed down on the dock, someone's dog-eared copy of Great Expectations. Her eyes were upon him suddenly, deep blue. "Don't tell Dad, but I left school early."

    School, for Alex, was whatever one of the adults among them chose to offer. Hers was a haphazard curriculum that on any given day could consist of baiting traps for game, being shown the right way to hang sails on a repaired boat, listening to taped biology lectures or watching a video on military manoeuvres at one of the old stations. Their people were her teachers, giving her books to read or reciting a bit of poetry for her edification, demonstrating how to install plumbing fixtures or putting her to work in the garden. In Ben’s home, she made due with scavenged science books and French flash cards from his own school days. At Richard's request, she had spent many a long afternoon at his house, ostensibly learning Latin. That he moaned the words against her ear, his hands roving beneath her clothes, was a fact he kept concealed from Ben.

    "Don't worry," Richard promised, lowering himself beside her. “I won’t say a word.” He never told her secrets, and counted on her to keep his. The dock was hot, the breeze coming off the water refreshingly cool. "Catch anything?"

    She smiled, indicating a bucket where a live fish swam. "Sunfish."

    "Great." He shifted a little, one arm snaking around her small waist, once he was sure no one was watching them. She leaned back against him comfortably, abandoning the fishing pole, a warm weight resting against his chest. Automatically, one of her hands settled on his upper thigh, and Richard felt the first stir of arousal through him. He kissed the top of her head, her sun-warmed hair. "How's the book?"


    “How’s the fishing going?”

    Her hand slid up his thigh, cradling his cock, and she smiled when she felt his erection. “It’s boring, too. Plus it’s too hot outside.”

    “Then why are you out here?” Richard asked. He did not dare touch her, not out where anyone could see.

    She smiled, wider, batting her eyelashes as she looked at him, a miniature coquette. “I was waiting for you.”

    Richard nodded, his own smile concealed. “Come on,” he said, rising and pulling Alex to her feet.

    “Wait. Dad wanted me to check the traps. Here, help,” Alex called as she dropped to her knees, pulling lobster traps up from the depths. “Hand me that bucket, okay? You can throw back the sunfish. It’s not big enough to eat.”

    He could barely hold himself back from grabbing Alex and dragging her to the bedroom the moment he kicked the door shut, but Richard had had a lot of practise over the years in training his patience. He affixed the lock, which he never used unless Alex was over, put on soft music and closed the curtains. She was sitting at the dining room table by the time he joined her in the kitchen. An old Latin textbook lay open before her, scavenged pieces of paper she sometimes used to write notes waiting, along with a pen and a bottle of ink, as Richard had taught her. She had put water to boil on the stove; an island girl, in a world where compassion could be dangerous, she had no problem cooking the lobsters she caught.

    “Doing homework?” he asked, waiting, watching.

    Alex smirked. “Not unless you want me to.”

    Richard lifted her up with ease and carried her down the hall, to the little used bedroom. He had never slept well, even though time itself was spread out before him in a never-ending tapestry, just waiting to be spent. The bedroom was pristine, and he laid Alex down on clean sheets.

    “I missed you today,” Richard murmured, laying down beside her. He slid one hand under her shirt, exploring the smooth skin only he had ever known.

    She had been an innocent when the affair had first begun, and he had made the first move after watching her for months. She had come to him in the night shortly after turning twelve, dressed in a wisp of a nightgown, her eyes red from crying after a nightmare had woken her up. Richard had known he was the second choice; Alex had gone looking for Ben first, but Ben had been on the smaller island and planned to stay a week, overseeing preparations for making the Hydra station usable again. Richard had been on the couch, idle and wakeful, tired of thumbing through Ben’s old books but not restless enough to pace when Alex had emerged, questions about Ben’s whereabouts on her lips.

    Richard had done the right thing, at first. He had fixed her a snack and given her a sip of hot brandy for the soporific effect, then settled her beside him on the couch, cradling her close and reciting snatches of Homer’s Odyssey. Once Alex had calmed down enough to talk, she had told him, haltingly, about her nightmare: a man in the darkness, a woman she thought was her mother, crying, and tinkling music she had never heard before, or at least did not remember. She had cried slightly, nostalgic for an unknown mother, and her arms had found their way around Richard’s neck after he had kissed her face, chasing away the tears.

    The next night, things had gone a step further. She had come to him before bed, freshly washed and still damp from the shower, bright and smiling, to clamber into his lap. For a time, she had been content to listen to Richard read aloud, unconscious or uncaring about the way his arm draped over her shoulder, his hand moving over her the buds of new breasts. Then she had brought up the subject of Annie, the surrogate Ben had assigned as Alex’s missing mother. She had cried again, but this time, she had lifted her chin at the moment Richard was kissing her beneath her eyes, and his salty lips had caught her mouth. Tentatively, after a moment, Alex had begun to kiss him back.

    At the last night of the week, before Ben had come back, they hadn’t waited for nightfall. She had come in, found Richard in the kitchen, and he had lifted her onto the countertop, drawing her in to a gentle kiss. With one hand, he had gingerly explored the dampness between her legs, lifting her skirt slightly, his fingers moving atop the fabric of her underwear. Alex had seemed startled and reluctant at first, but Richard had spoken to her softly, in ancient poetry and Spanish whispers, and eventually she had relaxed enough to let him continue.

    He had taught her, over many months, how to touch him and be touched in return, though he had never demanded it. Some afternoons, Alex had turned her back on his attentions, and he had always let her, his mannerisms brisk and professional as he found books for her to read, taught her to build miniature replicas of ships in bottles. Most of the time, though, she abandoned her studies as soon as Richard did, looking up from the pages to catch his knowing glance, or begging off additional lessons but leaning in close, promising to be a good student in an entirely different subject.

    “Missed you, too,” Alex remarked, a faint blush on her cheeks as she shifted, lifting her arms over her head so that Richard could pull off her shirt. She wore no bra underneath; she had no need for one. “Hey, this isn’t fair,” she added in a teasing voice, plucking open one of the buttons on Richard’s shirt. “You, too.”

    Richard obliged her with a smile, unbuttoning his shirt and casting it aside, then unfastening his trousers. He studied Alex’s intense expression as she looked him over, and bent to kiss her shoulders, ribs, the slight swelling of breasts.

    “Where were you all day?” Alex asked as Richard’s mouth roamed over her, hot breath tickling her sensitive skin. “I looked for you and I even asked Ben, but he said he didn’t know.”

    “Hydra. I try to stay out of his way these days,” Richard answered, guiding Alex’s hand to his cock and smiling back at her when she wrapped her fingers around his erection, her touch fluttering and soft, making him harder. “December 19th,” he recounted with a sigh. “Not a good day to bother Ben.”


    “Because,” Richard said, punctuating each word with a kiss. “A lot of bad things have happened to him on December 19th.”

    She frowned, stopped, posing with one arm under her head like a pillow. “Like what?”

    Richard’s lips sought her barely developed breasts, and he flicked his hot tongue across them, one hand sliding under the waistband of her shorts. “You’ll have to ask him about that, Alex,” he spoke after a few moments. “I’m not sure they are things he’d want you to know.”

    Alex rolled her eyes. “You mean, you’ll tell me when I’m older, right?”

    “Something like that,” Richard responded with a grin. He drew back, stepping off the bed, and pulled Alex down by her hips, until she was at the end of the bed. “Up,” he told her, and obediently she arched her back, making it easier for Richard to pull off her shorts and panties. He dropped them beside her on the mattress and knelt, pressing kisses against both knees, then rising up, kissing the tops and insides of her thighs. He could smell the scent of her arousal, mingled with her own girlish smell. She was wet, anxious, and Richard did not make her wait.

    He dropped to his knees, slid Alex’s legs farther apart and ran his tongue over her opening, pleased when she moaned and tensed beneath him, her hands seeking out his shoulders desperately, coiling through his hair. She had been shocked the first time, Richard remembered, sitting up hastily in confusion and blurred bliss, asking him exactly what it was Richard thought he was doing to her.

    “You don’t like it?” Richard had asked her, that time, his brown eyes wide and curious.

    Alex’s cheeks had burned. “I didn’t say that...”

    “Then lay down,” he had admonished lightly, with a satisfied smile, tongue delving in to taste her again.

    She had never protested, though she had continued to be uneasy a few times, torn between the delight of physical pleasure and her confusion over what it meant. The sensations had been entirely new; of all the predators waiting in the shadowy jungle, casting covetous gazes over Alex’s pre-pubescent body, Richard had gotten there first, as he was meant to. Richard had backed off, knowing there would be plenty of time to teach her everything he wanted Alex to know. Soon enough, she had asked him for it.
    A particularly interesting lesson had come the first time Alex had demanded to see him without clothes. Richard had stood before her in the shaded bedroom, his eyes watching the heat on her face, noting the curiosity in her eyes with a mixture of apprehension and hope. She had been dressed, then, in an old Dharma t-shirt Richard suspected had once been Annie’s and a cast-off skirt she had rummaged from somewhere. There had been light on her hair, a slight furrow to her brow as she stared down his erection, touching him cautiously at first, then deliberately. She had been the one on her knees, then, hands roaming the forbidden places of his body, breathing in musk scent. She had taken him into her mouth without coaxing, her lips wet from Richard’s kisses, and it had been so long that Richard had come almost at once, with a rapid spasm, despite her inexperience.

    “Stop,” Alex spoke suddenly.

    He withdrew immediately, rising up to look at her, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “Alex?”

    One of her feet moved artlessly up the outside of his thigh, and she looked at him, half-lidded eyes full of secrets. “I want to do it.”

    “Do it?” Richard repeated, incredulous.

    Rolling her eyes, Alex slapped the empty place on the bed beside her, and Richard laid down next to her immediately, a hand on her naked hip. “You know,” she said, and pink flamed across her cheekbones once more. “Sex.” She spoke the word like magic, a chant not to be overused, the way Ben said the name of Jacob. “I want to, I’m ready.”

    “You’re sure?” Richard asked. He could feel a shiver across his spine at the idea, heat spreading over his crotch, the erection building. “Alex,” he went on as she nodded, “you know you don’t have to, not for me, not if you don’t want to.” It was the next step, he knew, a boundary that could never be rebuilt once crossed. He had sent her reeling on waves of pleasure using his hands and his tongue, but the one time he had positioned himself between her legs, ready to go further, she had laid on the brakes, and he had, of course, complied with her wishes. Subtle coercion was his style, if coercion was necessary at all. He preferred willingness, especially from one so young.

    She puckered her lips thoughtfully, and her hands found the bulge in his open trousers, as if she knew how easily her touch could crumble Richard’s resolve. “I’m ready,” she confirmed after a moment, stroking him to impossible hardness. “Why, don’t you want to?”

    “Not unless you do,” Richard answered in a breathless voice.

    “Well, I do,” she went on, arching her back and laying there, arms and legs akimbo. “So what are you waiting for?”   

    There was no answer, so Richard kicked off his trousers and gathered Alex into his arms, positioning her beneath him. He lifted her body slightly off the mattress, feeling the tension as she wrapped her arms around him, the quickness of her breath against his shoulder as he moved her legs further apart and adjusted her hips to the precise angle he wanted. “This might hurt,” Richard warned in a soft voice, his lips at her throat.


    “Because this is your first time.” It sent a thrill through his midsection to consider that; he was the first. “It takes a while to get used to it.” As Richard spoke, he slid one finger into her body, unsurprised when she squirmed beneath him slightly. Moving in and out of her cautiously, he watched Alex’s face until she relaxed slightly. “We don’t have to,” he reminded her.

    Alex shook her head. “I want to.”

    “Tell me, if it hurts too bad. I’ll stop,” Richard promised. He kissed her neck, entering a second finger inside. The kisses grew fiercer, and he knew he was leaving marks, but Alex made no protest, only small sounds in the back of her throat, like the mewing of a cat. His erection bumped against her thigh, skin on skin, and he shivered, more from heat than cold.

    Richard held Alex tight as the head of his cock nudged her entrance. He stared into her eyes as he entered slowly, watching the bewilderment of her expression change to hurt, a crease of pain across her brow. She reached for his neck, but Richard pinned her down to the bed, holding both wrists down, not wanting to be distracted by her touch, only to concentrate on Alex’s needs for the moment.

    “Ow!” she winced, frowning.

    He froze. “Do you need me to stop?”

    Alex shook her head. Her lips were very red, and Richard kissed them gently, entering a bit deeper. Alex was hot and tight around him, impossibly unprepared, and though he was sure she was uncomfortable with him inside, to Richard it felt like heaven. He moved out slightly, then back in, keeping to a slow and shallow rhythm as Alex slowly adjusted to what he was doing.

    “Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?” Alex asked him frankly after a moment. A sheen of tears remained on her eyes, but she did not seem to be too badly hurt. Her expression betrayed more curiosity than pain, along with fledgling arousal.

    Richard kissed her, pausing in his rhythm. “What does it feel like?”

    “Good,” she answered. “But my hands are falling asleep.”

    Richard smiled, released her wrists and guided Alex’s pelvis into a slight tilt. He thrust back inside, deeper than before, and was rewarded by a deep moan and an amazed look in Alex’s eyes for a moment before she closed them. Her mouth opened slightly, and she panted, but her lips were curved into a slight smile, and when Richard thrust in, she lifted her hips up in response, letting him move deeper inside her.

    He held Alex, rocking her against him, soft words whispered in her ear as they moved in time, and this time when she wrapped her arms around him, Richard let her. He listened to the sounds of her moans as they increased in intensity, more needy than he had expected; he had worried she would not enjoy herself for her first time, but she bit her lip and let him thrust in hard, echoing a primal sound of pleasure.

    “You’re heavy,” Alex whispered, her nails digging into the sensitive skin of Richard’s back.

    He had forgotten their comparative sizes, but rectified the situation in an instant, barely breaking stride as he moved onto his back and brought Alex up on top of him.

    “This is...oh!” Alex’s eyes rolled back in her head slightly as Richard thrust up into her. “Mm, Richard,” she spoke, and he quickened his pace, bracing her hips and helping her follow his lead. The sight of Alex atop him was overwhelming. Richard stared unabashed at her body exposed, the neat braids unravelled, rosy cheeks and wet mouth dark eyes. He circled his hands around her waist, pressing her down against him.

    She was wet and warm around him, her body a tight sheath around him, and Richard felt himself rising to higher planes of ecstasy as Alex moved awkwardly in time with his thrusts, grunts and whispers of pleasure rising from her lips. When she came, he felt the clutch of her inexperienced body against him, and let it drive him over the edge alongside her, moaning her name as he came. “I love you,” she whispered, collapsing against him as Richard kissed her face. She had never said that before.

    For a long time after, Richard held her. He could feel her body as it went through aftershocks of the orgasm he had brought her to; her eyes grew blurry and her smile soft and distant, and her hands, holding one of his, clenched him. He kissed her forehead, her face, everywhere, letting her drift into shallow sleep in his arms. Too soon, though, it was time to wake her.

    Richard got up first, moving Alex gently aside. She turned over onto her side, curling up against his pillow, nude and uncaring. He dressed, went to the kitchen, checked the lobsters and put soup on the boil before going back into the shadowy bedroom and waking her with a kiss.


    “No,” she murmured, burying her face in his pillow.

    Richard smiled indulgently. “It’s time to wake up.” He jostled her shoulder slightly, then trailed his fingers over her chest. “Alex, hey.”

    She rolled over onto her back and blinked, then smiled at him. “Do you want to do it again?”

    Richard chuckled, unable to help himself. “Yes,” he told her, kissing the slight rise of her hipbones. “Soon, I hope. But right now, it’s time for you to get up. Come on, get dressed. I’ll get you some dinner, but then you better head home. Ben will be wondering what happened to you.”

    She nodded and got up, but then she picked up her clothes, which she had been laying on. “I can’t wear these.”


    Dampness, and a spot of blood, showed across the shorts. “I see,” Richard told her. He reached for her hands and pulled her off the bed, smoothing hair back from her face, his expression worried. “Did I hurt you?”


    “You’re sure?” His eyes pleaded for forgiveness.

    “Yes, I‘m sure. Really, Richard,” Alex said in a teasing voice. She kissed his hand, laughed and pulled away like a child. “I need to take a bath.”

    “You know where the bathroom is,” Richard told her, kissing her brow and then releasing her. “I’ll get you some clean clothes.”

    “I think I left my dress here last time,” Alex said. “After you ripped it taking it off.”

    “So you did,” Richard confirmed, watching her with heat in his eyes. “I’ve got it in the closet. I sewed the buttons back on,” he added, chagrined by her memory and the recollection of his own impatience.

    They ate a hurried dinner before she left, Richard in his rumpled shirt and trousers, Alex wearing a dress of blue velvet that he remembered slipping from Eloise’s shoulders, once upon a time.

    “Any more of that candy you brought back from the mainland?” Alex asked, toward the end. She batted her eyes, laughing, looking more innocent and happy than Richard had expected, though he was glad for it.

    Richard raised an eyebrow. “Possibly.”

    “Can I have some?”

    “I suppose you’ve earned it,” Richard told her, with a wink, and something deeper than the arousal flaring over his groin stirred in his heart. “Alex,” he added, catching her hand after he slid the candy box over to her. “I -” He bit back the words before he could speak them, thinking for a moment of Isabella, the vows they had made. Alex studied him intently and Richard felt the promises crumble. “I love you, too.”

    She nodded. “Like with Isabella, right?” He had told her the truth, not long before, when he had slipped and whispered his wife’s name instead of Alex’s.

    “It’s more than that.”

    “How?” she asked, and he was reminded that she was just a child, even after everything.

    “Never mind.” There would be time, Richard knew; for him there always was. He gave her a small smile. “When you’re older.”

    She pushed back her meal, stuck out her tongue, put the candy in her satchel. After a moment, her cheery look faded. “I better go. Ben’s going to ask where I’ve been all this time.”

    Richard nodded. “Tell him what you have to.”

    “I won’t tell him about us,” she promised with a toss of her hair. Rosebuds bloomed on her cheeks, and her lips were glossy, but there was a sudden darkness over her eyes. “He wouldn’t like it.”

    “No, probably not,” Richard agreed with a sigh. “You’re still pretty young, Alex. I know you don’t like it when people say you’re still a child, but Ben thinks of you that way. We both know he would probably think you’re way too young for what we’ve been doing.”

    She shrugged. “It’s not that.”

    “What is it, then?”

    Alex shook her head, looking vaguely perplexed. “I think he’d be...jealous.”

    Richard was not sure what was worse, that Ben had crossed some lines, or that he, Richard, was unsurprised. “What makes you say that?” he asked, his tone deliberately light and casual.

    “He watches me, at night, when I sleep. Not all the time, but some nights, he comes in late and stays for a long time. I used to think he was just checking on me, but then I heard him in his room. He was making sounds, like you do,” she said, and Richard raised an eyebrow. “Sex sounds. He used to say my mother’s name. Now he says mine.”

    “I see,” Richard said coolly.

    Alex looked at him significantly, slipping out of the chair, pulling her satchel over her shoulder. “Well, it’s creepy, right? I mean..” her voice lowered, a barely audible whisper. “He’s my father.”

    Richard set his hand on her shoulder, pulling her close, his brown eyes liquid. “Is he?”

    She frowned, shook her head slightly like a swimmer with water in their ears, her eyes wide. Mystified, she stared back at Richard for a few moments, and finally changed the subject, letting the silence crash behind them. “Can I come see you early tomorrow?”

    “I’ve got a lot of work to do,” Richard admitted, disappointed. “I’m heading out tomorrow morning to set up a camp on one of the hills for us. Ben thinks we’ll need it. I’ll be back tomorrow night, late, and then I head out again for a week, to the Hydra. I promise, I’ll find you as soon as I get back.”

    “Maybe I can come with you,” she tried.

    “I’d love that,” Richard answered. “But I suppose Ben will want you close to home for a while. He has a lot of work himself, getting ready to send the sub out. Alex,” he added, catching her hand before she could walk away. He kissed her hair, her hands. “I do love you.”

     Her eyes were older than he was used to, more knowledgeable, but that too was good. “I know,” Alex said back, reaching up to hug him tight and press a butterfly kiss against his cheek before she went to the door. “I’ll see you before you go,” she promised. “Tonight, if I can.”

    “And exactly how do you plan on doing that?”

    She laughed, a child. “You’ll see. I love you, Richard,” she sang in her girlish voice, giggling as she walked out and shut the door behind her.
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