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Entry tags:
fic: new BSG, Fractured Sun, 18+
Disclaimer: not mine. Rating: 18+ Sex. Language.
Pairing: Kara/Adama, refrences: Kara/Anders, Kara/Lee, Kara/Helo.
Spoilers: Big time. 'Scar' episode insert. In two parts.
Length: 2,000ish, total. Half that for each.
Notes:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rabbit_the_wise = WORST INFLUENCE EVER. This should have been finished last night, but random asparagus intruded.
Summary: There's nowhere else to go.
Part one is the disturbing part. Part two has no smut.
Part Two is here
Fractured Sun
by ALC Punk!
Lee thinks too much. Has always thought too much. Kara feels like she's known this forever. The Adama men have a bad habit of thinking too long, and too hard, and too carefully.
Except when it comes to her. And then only Lee thinks too hard.
It shouldn't be a surprise that he's still awake when she knocks on the hatch. Her clothing is as straight as it can be, but if you know what you're looking for, she missed a button on her pants, and the tanks aren't tucked in. The bottle of ambrosia in her hand is heavy.
"Starbuck."
The thought occurs to her that this is the stupidest idea she's had yet. Far worse than passing Zak on his exam. Worse than the last time she turned up on his doorstep, rain dripping from her nose (she refused to believe it was tears), eyes wide and begging. He hadn't gotten it until she kissed him wildly, almost begging for him to hurt her.
He hadn't. Though he should have.
But then, last time, she called him 'Zak'. Maybe this is penance.
"Sir." Kara licks her lips, tries to think of something to say that will convey what she needs. Maybe he'll pat her on the back and send her on her way. Except that there's no one left. Helo's off-limits, despite being in love with a Cylon.
But something shifts in his expression and he backs up. "Come in, Starbuck."
There's nothing she can say, so she moves instead. Waits until the hatch closes, sets the bottle of ambrosia down and then reaches out, hand grabbing his collar. He lets her pull him close, and when her lips clash against his, a soft sound escapes him.
She remembers this. Last time, he was gentle, her hands fisted in his uniform greys as his fingers and tongue worked across her until she broke, sobbing. It was the second time he saw her cry.
There's nothing gentle about the way he presses her into the wall. Not quite slamming, but she's going to have a line of bruise down her left side. Probably. It depends on if the vessels broke close enough to the skin.
Her hands yank his jacket open, then off as his mouth works its way down her neck.
Kara tries to be silent.
One of them growls, and she has no idea who it is. Doesn't care when his hand slips into her pants, fingers finding her easily. And she's already wet and desperate.
Definitely her that growls, the second time.
One finger, and it's not enough. She's suddenly begging, scaring the hell out of herself until he complies, second finger sliding in. Her legs part further, stretching the material and giving him more room to maneuver. And it's still not enough until his teeth close on her shoulder.
She clamps her lips closed, unwilling to find out whose name she'll whimper. With her luck, it'd be Gaius.
He doesn't stop when she climaxes, doesn't even slow down until she's limp, gasping and shaking. Then he slows his hand and eventually removes it.
Only his body pinning her against the wall is holding her up.
A shift, and she can feel him against her hip. His knees won't take a frak against the wall, and his heart--well, she's not going to consider that. Not yet.
Maybe later, when she's sober.
"Bed," she whispers against his neck, pushing a little at his chest.
She almost trips on her sagging pants before ripping them off in irritation and following him. Her mouth finds his, and for just a moment, the kiss is chaste.
His hands cradle her face, thumbs brushing over her cheeks gently. And that's too much.
This isn't about connection.
Kara shoves her hand down his pants and grazes him with her fingers.
A groan escapes him.
The kiss changes, and she tries hard not to pop a button off his jacket, then gives up because her fingers aren't quite working. One yank, and the lapels are finally open enough and she runs her free hand down his chest, then shoves.
He lands on the bed and they both work on getting his shirts and pants off.
Kara pauses to stare at him before climbing after, still with her tanks on. The surgical scar is still pale pink against the paleness of his skin. The dusting of hair is distracting, and she suddenly wonders if Zak would have looked like this in twenty years.
The thought gets shoved away as she moves up, straddling his legs as she bends over and licks his chest like a cat. From navel to sternum, up the scar. It's morbid and strangely fascinating, and she does it again before giving into his tugging at her shoulder and moving up.
Still wet and slick, it takes very little effort to slide down onto him and they both gasp.
Last time, she remembers rain. And he had a cold for three days afterwards. She never bothered blaming it on herself.
She bends down and licks at the scar as she rides him with swift, precise strokes. Like most men, he's easy to read and within a short time he's writhing beneath her, breath coming in pants.
Very careful not to leave a mark, she nips at his chest. Wouldn't do for the Admiral to be seen with love bites.
The intense need abated, Kara leans against his chest. She doesn't want to feel content, but her skin has stopped buzzing and she thinks she can sleep now.
Adama's hand gently smooths through her hair.
The gesture is too gentle, too careful, and she jerks back, slides out of the bed and scrambles for her clothing. She shoves her underwear in a pocket and yanks her pants on without looking at him. She doesn't bother with her boots. Shoe-less Starbuck isn't going to disturb anyone.
He doesn't try to stop her.
On her way to the door, she detours for her bottle of ambrosia.
-=-
Pairing: Kara/Adama, refrences: Kara/Anders, Kara/Lee, Kara/Helo.
Spoilers: Big time. 'Scar' episode insert. In two parts.
Length: 2,000ish, total. Half that for each.
Notes:
rabbit_the_wise = WORST INFLUENCE EVER. This should have been finished last night, but random asparagus intruded.Summary: There's nowhere else to go.
Part one is the disturbing part. Part two has no smut.
Part Two is here
Fractured Sun
by ALC Punk!
Lee thinks too much. Has always thought too much. Kara feels like she's known this forever. The Adama men have a bad habit of thinking too long, and too hard, and too carefully.
Except when it comes to her. And then only Lee thinks too hard.
It shouldn't be a surprise that he's still awake when she knocks on the hatch. Her clothing is as straight as it can be, but if you know what you're looking for, she missed a button on her pants, and the tanks aren't tucked in. The bottle of ambrosia in her hand is heavy.
"Starbuck."
The thought occurs to her that this is the stupidest idea she's had yet. Far worse than passing Zak on his exam. Worse than the last time she turned up on his doorstep, rain dripping from her nose (she refused to believe it was tears), eyes wide and begging. He hadn't gotten it until she kissed him wildly, almost begging for him to hurt her.
He hadn't. Though he should have.
But then, last time, she called him 'Zak'. Maybe this is penance.
"Sir." Kara licks her lips, tries to think of something to say that will convey what she needs. Maybe he'll pat her on the back and send her on her way. Except that there's no one left. Helo's off-limits, despite being in love with a Cylon.
But something shifts in his expression and he backs up. "Come in, Starbuck."
There's nothing she can say, so she moves instead. Waits until the hatch closes, sets the bottle of ambrosia down and then reaches out, hand grabbing his collar. He lets her pull him close, and when her lips clash against his, a soft sound escapes him.
She remembers this. Last time, he was gentle, her hands fisted in his uniform greys as his fingers and tongue worked across her until she broke, sobbing. It was the second time he saw her cry.
There's nothing gentle about the way he presses her into the wall. Not quite slamming, but she's going to have a line of bruise down her left side. Probably. It depends on if the vessels broke close enough to the skin.
Her hands yank his jacket open, then off as his mouth works its way down her neck.
Kara tries to be silent.
One of them growls, and she has no idea who it is. Doesn't care when his hand slips into her pants, fingers finding her easily. And she's already wet and desperate.
Definitely her that growls, the second time.
One finger, and it's not enough. She's suddenly begging, scaring the hell out of herself until he complies, second finger sliding in. Her legs part further, stretching the material and giving him more room to maneuver. And it's still not enough until his teeth close on her shoulder.
She clamps her lips closed, unwilling to find out whose name she'll whimper. With her luck, it'd be Gaius.
He doesn't stop when she climaxes, doesn't even slow down until she's limp, gasping and shaking. Then he slows his hand and eventually removes it.
Only his body pinning her against the wall is holding her up.
A shift, and she can feel him against her hip. His knees won't take a frak against the wall, and his heart--well, she's not going to consider that. Not yet.
Maybe later, when she's sober.
"Bed," she whispers against his neck, pushing a little at his chest.
She almost trips on her sagging pants before ripping them off in irritation and following him. Her mouth finds his, and for just a moment, the kiss is chaste.
His hands cradle her face, thumbs brushing over her cheeks gently. And that's too much.
This isn't about connection.
Kara shoves her hand down his pants and grazes him with her fingers.
A groan escapes him.
The kiss changes, and she tries hard not to pop a button off his jacket, then gives up because her fingers aren't quite working. One yank, and the lapels are finally open enough and she runs her free hand down his chest, then shoves.
He lands on the bed and they both work on getting his shirts and pants off.
Kara pauses to stare at him before climbing after, still with her tanks on. The surgical scar is still pale pink against the paleness of his skin. The dusting of hair is distracting, and she suddenly wonders if Zak would have looked like this in twenty years.
The thought gets shoved away as she moves up, straddling his legs as she bends over and licks his chest like a cat. From navel to sternum, up the scar. It's morbid and strangely fascinating, and she does it again before giving into his tugging at her shoulder and moving up.
Still wet and slick, it takes very little effort to slide down onto him and they both gasp.
Last time, she remembers rain. And he had a cold for three days afterwards. She never bothered blaming it on herself.
She bends down and licks at the scar as she rides him with swift, precise strokes. Like most men, he's easy to read and within a short time he's writhing beneath her, breath coming in pants.
Very careful not to leave a mark, she nips at his chest. Wouldn't do for the Admiral to be seen with love bites.
The intense need abated, Kara leans against his chest. She doesn't want to feel content, but her skin has stopped buzzing and she thinks she can sleep now.
Adama's hand gently smooths through her hair.
The gesture is too gentle, too careful, and she jerks back, slides out of the bed and scrambles for her clothing. She shoves her underwear in a pocket and yanks her pants on without looking at him. She doesn't bother with her boots. Shoe-less Starbuck isn't going to disturb anyone.
He doesn't try to stop her.
On her way to the door, she detours for her bottle of ambrosia.
-=-