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Archive for the tag “genre: first kiss”

[REPOST] Stargate SG-1 fic: Simplifying

Jack tries to talk Sam into taking over as head of the SGC but Sam has other ideas.
995 words | [PG-13]


“You know, Carter,” Jack said as they rounded the corner heading for the bank of elevators, “you could just come back to the SGC.”

She walked next to him, hands clasped behind her back but looking completely casual. He marveled at her. “I suppose.”

Their heels clicked on the polished stone floor of the Pentagon. Jack nodded at several startled servicemen as they exited an office to his right. They eagerly got out of his way. Rank did have some privileges he thought with a smirk.

“You don’t seem too enthused at the thought.”

She shrugged.

“And that means?”

That got a bit of a smile out of her. “I hadn’t really thought about it, sir. After Atlantis and the Hammond-” She trailed off, her gaze getting glossy. She shook her head slightly before continuing. “I’m not sure I want to go back to the field.”

They arrived at the elevators, and Jack slammed his thumb into the up arrow. “Carter,” he said, keeping his voice low, “you have to realize you are on the shortlist to take over for Landry when he retires. A very short list.”

She shrugged again, her eyes never quite meeting his. Jack frowned. At her, at the elevator, at the situation. She seemed to notice his agitation because she gestured with her head at the stairs. Jack shoved the door open with a little more force than necessary.

“You want out, don’t you?” he accused. Read more…

[REPOST] Girl Genius fic: Quit Pretending

This story is being reposted from 2018 as part of this endeavor. Since it was written in the last few years, it didn’t need any extra editing (yay!), but it fits with my theme for February, so I’m reposting it. Enjoy.

Canon-diverent. Set sometime after Mechanicsburg is freed as everyone settles into life at Castle Heterodyne. Agatha thinks she knows how to fix Gil and Tarvek’s relationship. She’s usually right.
1,065 words | [PG_13]


“That’s it! I can’t take it anymore!”

Gil stumbled to a stop as Agatha swung around to face him and Tarvek. They shared uneasy glances at the slight Sparkiness in her tone. “Wha-” he started to say, but she cut him off.

“The arguing and bickering. Can’t you two do anything without fighting?”

Another exchange of looks. Gil couldn’t even remember what they were fighting about moments ago, but he knew they’d been doing it. They fought over everything and anything and nothing. He wasn’t even sure why anymore.

“We’re not-” Tarvek protested, but Agatha put a hand up to stop him.

“Enough. I don’t want to hear it. I want you to fix it.”

They looked at each other, neither wanting to ask the question. Agatha sighed dramatically. “You’re both ridiculous, you know that. This isn’t as difficult as you’re making it out to be.”

Gil was so confused. “Making what difficult?”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Getting along. Being around each other. You try so hard to irritate each other instead of being friends. You spend all your time pretending to hate each other—always pushing the other aw—when it’s obviously not what you want.”

“It’s not?”

The Spark flashed in her eyes again. Uh-oh. “No. And since you two are stubborn idiots, it looks like I’m going to have to fix everything like I always do.”

She wrenched each by the arm so they were facing each other then took a step back, expectantly. Gil stared at an equally baffled Tarvek.

“Agatha,” Tarvek said, slowly, “are you feeling ill?”

“I told you, I’m going to fix this constant fighting thing.”

“How?” Read More…

[REPOST] The 100 fic: Wash Away the Pain

This story is being reposted from 2017 as part of this endeavor. Since it was written in the last few years, it didn’t need any extra editing (yay!), but it fits with my theme for February, so I’m reposting it. Enjoy.

blood

Clarke has too much blood on her hands, but Bellamy is there to help wash it away.
1,280 words | [PG-13]


Clarke staggers through the trees towards the rush of water she hears in the distance. Her right hand presses against a growing pain in her side. Her left hangs limply, knife dangling from her fingertips. The noise of the river drowns out the echoing screams of death in her head.

She falls to her knees on the bank, retching until the bile erases the bitter taste of copper that stings the back of her throat.

So much blood.

It’s everywhere—staining her clothes, caking her hair, dripping from her eyelashes. She stares at her hands—sticky with red—until they blur behind a curtain of tears. She thrusts her hands into the freezing water, scrubbing her skin raw, but the red isn’t going away.
Her chest seizes up as another sob wracks her.

It’s not my blood.

“Clarke?”

She’s not sure if she’s relieved or terrified that it’s Bellamy that followed her. She goes back to scrubbing the blood from her hands. Bellamy squats next to her, pulling her hands from the water to hold between his. He gently tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and wipes a line of blood trickling from her temple.

“What do I do?” she whispers. “I can’t get it off.”

He looks down at her hands. “They’re clean, Clarke.” Read more…

 

[REPOST] Stargate SG-1 fic: Talk of the Town

This story is being reposted from 2011 as part of this endeavor. It’s been lightly edited for spelling, punctuation, grammar and for clarity. See the original here.

Sam and Jack get stranded on a planet when the Gate malfunctions. What to do with their time?
2,693 words | [PG-13]


“You know, Carter,” Jack said, kicking at a half-buried rock, “people are going to start talking.”

“About what, sir?” Her voice was muffled by the DHD—her head buried in the innards of the ancient device.

“Us.”

She looked up at him, squinting at the sun that glinted over his shoulder. “What about us?” She had that look in her eye. The one that said she thought she knew what they were not discussing.

Jack pulled his gaze away from her and stared at the barren horizon. This planet was desolate. No civilization. No habitation at all as far as they could tell. They did their tests, set up their equipment and huffed it back to the gate as quickly as possible.

“Just… these things keep happening to us,” he finally said with a slight grimace.

Carter grunted. “It’s not our fault the Gate malfunctioned.” She ducked back into the DHD, a string of muttered curses following her.

Jack smiled and tried to ignore the fact that all he could see was her wiggling backside. He quickly looked away, his thoughts confirming his concern over the situation. “No, it’s not. But when the same thing keeps happening to just us.”

“It’s not always just us, sir. Last time Teal’c got stuck with us.” She continued to grumble to herself as she tried to figure out the issue with the DHD this time.

“I know that. Doesn’t stop people from talking.” Jack kicked at the offending rock, finally breaking it free of its grave. It skittered across the hard-packed dirt landing next to Carter’s leg. She suddenly rocked back on her heels and threw a broken crystal into the now empty compartment with disgust.

“Since when do you care what people think?”

“I don’t.” Read more…

[REPOST] The 100 fic: Fall to Pieces

This story is being reposted from 2017 as part of this endeavor. Since it was written in the last few years, it didn’t need any extra editing (yay!), but it fits with my theme for February, so I’m reposting it. Enjoy.

falltopieces

Canon divergent. After a year on the ground, Bellamy and Clarke are finally ready to confront their feelings. As long as Bellamy doesn’t break his neck first.
1,461 words | [PG]


By Clarke’s calculations, they’ve been on the ground for around 380 days. It’s the end of September. Or maybe it’s early October. It’s hard to tell. The chill of autumn has chased away the sweltering heat of July and August, but summer is making a last stand. The sun that filters through the treetops tickles her skin, leaving little goosebumps down her arms. She glances to her side—those might be from another reason, though.

Next to her, Bellamy’s hair flutters around his head in the warm breeze. He repeatedly shoves it out of his eyes with a huff, but it does no good. Watching him try makes her grin.

“You need a haircut.”

He snorts. “Thinking of making a career change to hairstylist, princess?” he asks without any of his usual derision. He shoots her a smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes and releases a swarm of butterflies in her stomach.

Clarke looks away before he can see her blush. She’d never hear the end of it. If there was one thing Bellamy was good at it was teasing her. He knew how to push all of her buttons. Which, she has to admit, isn’t always a bad thing. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see him still smiling. It looks good on him. She wishes he would do it more often. “Why are you in such a good mood?

“What do you mean?”

She doesn’t believe his innocent act for a second. And she’s not going to fall for his charm. Not much anyway. She narrows her eyes at him, hoping she looks more stern and less like he has her insides doing gymnastics. “You’re acting weird. What are you up to?”

“Are you always this suspicious?”

“When it comes to you—yes.” Read more…

Girl Genius fic: Fate in a Bottle

When Gil left for university, he knew it would be filled with wondrous new experiences. He just never thought he’d be trapped in a room with a dozen students, Tarvek Sturmvoraus, and a mysterious bottle on the floor.

2,164 words | [PG-13]


“Okay, mes cheris,” Colette said, clapping her hands, “everyone take a seat in a circle—it’s time to play a game.” She went around the room, closing the curtains and tossing pillows onto the floor.

The other students giggled and got comfortable. Gil just stood there, confused. Across the room, Tarvek looked equally baffled.

“Come on, boys, don’t be shy.”

Colette’s words were soft and friendly, but there was an edge of an order to them, and no one argued with the Master’s daughter. Gil dutifully plopped down on a pillow. Tarvek took a little more convincing by the hushed but tense conversation he had with Colette. Eventually, he sat, too. Colette always got her way. He definitely didn’t look happy about it, though. Or maybe it was just Gil he was unhappy with because he hadn’t stopped glaring across the circle since he entered the room a few minutes after Gil.

Gil swallowed hard and turned his attention to the game, trying to suss out the rules before they started. The group of about twenty students, equal numbers of boys and girls, gathered in the circle on their pillows. An empty glass bottle sat in the center of the circle. Gil couldn’t guess what it was for.

Colette took center stage. “All right people, settle down. Settle down!” The noise instantly ceased causing Colette to smile. “All right, you know the rules, so let’s keep this fair. No drama-”

Gil slowly raised his hand, knowing he was probably going to regret this but needing to know the answer more.

Colette paused her instructions. “Yes, Gilgamesh?”

“Um, I don’t actually know the rules.” Read more…

Girl Genius fic: Quit Pretending

Set sometime after Mechanicsburg is freed as everyone settles into life at Castle Heterodyne. Agatha thinks she knows how to fix Gil and Tarvek’s relationship. She’s usually right. Written for day 1 of Girl Genius Week 2018 on tumblr.
1071 words | [PG-13]


“That’s it! I can’t take it anymore!”

Gil stumbled to a stop as Agatha swung around to face him and Tarvek. They shared uneasy glances at the slight Sparkiness in her tone. “Wha-” he started to say, but she cut him off.

“The arguing and bickering. Can’t you two do anything without fighting?”

Another exchange of looks. Gil couldn’t even remember what they were fighting about moments ago, but he knew they’d been doing it. They fought over everything and anything and nothing. He wasn’t even sure why anymore.

“We’re not-” Tarvek protested, but Agatha put a hand up to stop him.

“Enough. I don’t want to hear it. I want you to fix it.”

They looked at each other, neither wanting to ask the question. Agatha sighed dramatically. “You’re both ridiculous, you know that. This isn’t as difficult as you’re making it out to be.”

Gil was so confused. “Making what difficult?”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Getting along. Being around each other. You try so hard to irritate each other instead of being friends. You spend all your time pretending to hate each other—always pushing the other aw—when it’s obviously not what you want.”

“It’s not?”

The Spark flashed in her eyes again. Uh-oh. “No. And since you two are stubborn idiots, it looks like I’m going to have to fix everything like I always do.” Read more…

The 100 fic: No Place Else I’d Rather Be

When Bellamy and Clarke get stuck in the mud, it’s finally time to have a conversation that’s been brewing far too long.
2585 words | PG-13


Bellamy’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. He leaned forward, scowling at the pounding rain. The windshield wipers couldn’t keep up, making it almost impossible to see. Next to him, Clarke stared out her window like she didn’t have a care in the world. This was her fault. He told her coming out here was a mistake. They should have waited until the clouds passed. But she insisted they needed to go now. So here he was, driving through a freaking monsoon. Because Clarke always got what Clarke wanted.

“We need to stop,” he said, not looking at her.

“What? No, we’re almost there.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not going to make it in one piece in this storm. I can’t see where I’m going.”

She craned her neck to see out the front window. “Just stay on the road.”

“What road?” His voice raised an octave. “There’s no road, Clarke. Just mud.” Read more…

The 100 fic: Wash Away the Pain

blood

Clarke has too much blood on her hands, but Bellamy is there to help wash it away.
1272 words | rating: PG-13


Clarke staggers through the trees towards the rush of water she hears in the distance. Her right hand presses against a growing pain in her side. Her left hangs limply, knife dangling from her fingertips. The noise of the river drowns out the echoing screams of death in her head.

She falls to her knees on the bank, retching until the bile erases the bitter taste of copper that stings the back of her throat.

So much blood.

It’s everywhere—staining her clothes, caking her hair, dripping from her eyelashes. She stares at her hands—sticky with red—until they blur behind a curtain of tears. She thrusts her hands into the freezing water, scrubbing her skin raw, but the red isn’t going away.
Her chest seizes up as another sob wracks her.

It’s not my blood.

“Clarke?”

She’s not sure if she’s relieved or terrified that it’s Bellamy that followed her. She goes back to scrubbing the blood from her hands. Bellamy squats next to her, pulling her hands from the water to hold between his. He gently tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and wipes a line of blood trickling from her temple.

“What do I do?” she whispers. “I can’t get it off.”

He looks down at her hands. “They’re clean, Clarke.”

She doesn’t believe him, but she’s afraid to look again. He watches her a moment longer then stands, pulling her up with him. “Come on.”

He unties his boots, kicking them to the side. He tosses his jacket to the side and peels out of his t-shirt. Clarke swallows, squeezing her eyes shut. She doesn’t want to think about how perfect he looks without a shirt on or how he has a smattering of freckles across his shoulders. It’s both adorable and sexy. And completely inappropriate.

Bellamy leans over and dips his shirt in the water then starts wiping her face. He’s gentle, starting at the top and working his way down. Despite the cold, she feels the heat rolling off of his bare skin.

“Do you trust me?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

With my life, she wants to tell him, but the words catch in her throat. Instead, she nods. Without saying another word, he carefully pulls off her shoes and socks. The rocks dig into her blistered feet, but she doesn’t complain.

He bites his lip—his eyes catching hers. He holds her gaze as he carefully removes her jacket. His fingers trail down her arms, sending a shiver up her spine.

He grips the hem of her shirt. “Still with me?”

She nods again, closing her eyes as he lifts the shirt off of her. She’s not sure she can look at him now. He casually undoes her pants, and she steps out of them, shivering. But he’s not done. She hears the zipper of his pants—the fabric pooling at his feet. He grips her hand tightly and guides her into the river.

The water is like a thousand tiny daggers hitting her all at once. She gasps and nearly sucks in a lungful of water. Bellamy wraps his arms around her waist—their chests pressed together—to keep her from sinking.

Bellamy carefully leans her head back and washes her hair, threading his fingers through the knots. Then he wipes her cheeks with his thumbs. His hands glide down her arms, pulling her hands between them. He rubs at her fingernails until the dark stains are gone.

When she looks up at him, his face is blurred behind tears. She blinks them away. He gives her that shy, sad smile he reserves just for her. She knows the emotions behind it. The way she keeps breaking his heart. The way he just accepts it. Because that’s who he is. She loves him for that.

She swallows down the lump. She might be in love with him.

Before she can think better of it, she reaches up and wipes a smudge of dirt from his temple. He doesn’t take his eyes off of her as she returns his favor—cleaning his face and hair. Even when she’s done, she can’t stop running her fingers through his curls. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer until their bodies are completely flush. His nose brushes hers, and she lets out a little sigh.

“Clarke,” he says, voice rough. He pushes her hair from her face, letting his fingers skim her chilled cheeks. Everywhere he touches heats up. He leans in closer until their lips are nearly touching. But something stops him. He pulls back ever so slightly, and she thinks she might die from the anticipation. He clears his throat. “Clarke, we-”

“Please,” she whispers. “Can we just forget about everything else. Just this once. Can it be just you and me. No Ark, no Earth, no grounders, no war.”

“No Lexa?”

She shakes her head. “Lexa’s gone.”

“Clarke, I don’t want you to forget her.”

“I’m not. But-” She runs her fingers over his lips. They’re chapped but soft. “I’m afraid I’m going to lose my chance.”

He chuckles softly. “With me?” He waits for her to look up. “Never, Clarke. I’ll be here when you’re ready. Whenever that is.” He slips his fingers into her hair and pulls her face closer, planting soft kisses on her forehead. “I’ll wait as long as it takes. I love you, Clarke.”

Every molecule in her body hums alive at his words. She wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. He doesn’t question her breakdown; he just holds her tighter. When she finally gets control, she pulls back just far enough to see his face. The sun is setting behind him, casting him in shadows, but his eyes are wide, tracking her movements. She places a hand on either side of his face. The blood is finally gone—her skin shining white in the waning sun.

Slowly, she leans forward, letting their lips touch softly. He doesn’t react at first, but she presses, knowing he just needs a sure confirmation. And then he groans. His arms tighten in a bear hug as he deepens the kiss. It’s like he can’t get enough. And damn, Clarke doesn’t want this to end. Some small part of her mind starts to compare this with her first kiss with Lexa, but she shoves it away—surprised at how easily she boxes up the memories. It’s been over a year; she has to move on eventually. And Bellamy’s been waiting this whole time.

When she pulls away again, his eyes are slightly unfocused but with a hint of fear like he thinks maybe she changed her mind. “Bellamy.”

He tenses, obviously waiting for it all to fall apart. Her heart aches for him. She did this to him. She left him over and over. Chose someone else at every turn. And he’s still here. At her side every day without question. Her lip trembles. And not from the cold. “I love you,” she whispers. And to erase any questions he might have, she adds, “I’m in love with you, Bellamy, and I have been for a long time.”

He sucks in a sharp breath—his body completely still. She meets his gaze as tears gather in the corners of his eyes. She tilts his face closer, kissing each tear away before returning to his lips.

“God, Clarke,” he moans into her mouth. “I love you so much.”

“I know. I’m sorry it took me so long to figure out what I wanted.”

He kisses her softly. “You’re worth the wait.”

She smiles against his lips. “So are you.”

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