Pairing: June x GN!Traveller
Description: His mind soothed by your everlasting touch.
The softness of your hands could smooth diamonds to dust.
The heat in your gaze could boil precious metals; your adoration could bring Eros to his knees. With every soft caress of your palms, like warm wind over the valleys and gentle slopes of his body, touched golden by light, your light, June can only think that he has never been touched like this.
Touched, and been touched, he has, with hands that cut like steel and bit like the maw of a starved beast. Those touches have been seared into his skin; reflected between mirror and iris, he has read the words written on has body as pain and hurt. Each time he turned from his reflection with a ripple of disgust, thus he has grown to believe he always deserved those touches and stifled the ache in his stomach, snuffed out the flame of his desire for anything minutely more.
Then you arose from the ashes like a phoenix and brought with you everything he has ever, no, never, wanted. Who was he to fall to your feet, when all he had to offer you was the broken pieces of something that had never been?
All too happy to take those pieces and stitch them back together, you were, your careful hand sewing thread between the aching cracks of his skin. Such surgical precision, to him, was no stranger, yet the way in which you worked rivalled every memory of white coats and anesthetic in his mind.
“June,” you breath his name into the flesh of his hip, lips grazing over sun-kissed skin.
How you can take one syllable and overflow it with an ocean of hidden meaning, he knows not. He knows only the sweet press of your mouth in this moment, your molten breath seeping into the crevices and setting fire to his veins.
You’ll take his poison and set in aflame, he hopes. Let your heat drive out the toxins which lie dormant in his blood, flip him inside out and give to him with your touch the sweet sanctity of rebirth.
He wants to be made new by you.
You drift with the softness of a gentle wave over the expanse of his skin, find a new target in his scars. Through clenched fist he cannot hide the way he jolts under your tracing tongue, memories threatening crushed ribs with their heavy weight upon his chest.
Your fingertips say, “I’m here” and your lips speak of comfort. The heady tranquility of everything that is you makes calm his rapidly beating heart. When next met with his own reflection, he’ll look upon his scars and think nothing but this, of you, all-encompassing and whole.
His hate for himself will be forgotten. His love will seep into you and then bleed back into him, until your equilibrium is infinite, and his mind soothed by your everlasting touch.
Notes: This was just a short lil’ thing I wrote to try and get my motivation to write back so I hope y’all enjoy :) I’ll have more A6 soon.
Taglist: @amlovelies @writersgonefishing @oatssss @kimberrrrr @femmeshep @serana-spring
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Pairing: June x F!Traveller (Celeste)
Fandom: Andromeda Six (I know the fan base isn’t huge so I encourage those who haven’t played to read these and see if you’d like to try it out!)
Warnings: Angst, minor mentions of gore and death.
Words: ~ 1800
Description: When Traveller tries to save June instead.
Notes: I chose my traveller for this little fic but will totally take requests if you’d like me to use yours. Just pop into me DMs and make a request! Also, this is one of several fics for A6 that I have so let me know if you’d like to be tagged.
This is self indulgent nonsense and I am sorry. I will do better next time. Actually I probably won’t.
Tags: @amlovelies @writersgonefishing @oatssss @kimberrrrr @femmeshep @serana-spring
There’s a sort of weightlessness to death.
An instant where you rest suspended in the between. Passed from warm hands into a cold, steel grip, there’s a split second where everything stops. Life no longer holds meeting and death has yet to make known its cruel face, so you are left...
It takes a moment for Celeste to realize that this isn’t the weightlessness she’s feeling. The sensation of suspense is not one due to hovering between life and death. The strength which holds her is not of some otherworldly being.
She looks up and sees kindly grey eyes. June cradles her head with gentle, reserved strength. Tawny strands of his hair fall against his forehead as he looks down at her with an expression of fear and unbridled concern, one that is utterly unfamiliar on the usually calm gunman’s features.
His fingers press against her side and withdraw, sticky and crimson with blood.
“Celeste,” June whispers, though it’s faint with the ringing in her ears.
Her name on his lips sounds sad, agonized even. The feeling that knowledge invokes within her is foreign. Once, existing only as the youngest child in a line of royals, fated for a life in the shadows, she held the belief that no one would mourn her death. Now, the look of anguish on his face makes guilt flare in her gut; she doesn’t want to hurt him like this.
He pulls her close against his chest, draws her into his arms as easily as if she were, truly, weightless. She knows of the strength that lies hidden under the layers of his sweet, gentle exterior, buried under his warm smiles and soft, thoughtful gestures.
Her fingers’ weak grasp finds his wrist, delving into the crisscrossed scars written in his skin. In them, she finds the affirmation she seeks.
Even if it drains her of blood, life, and spirit, it was worth it. For in this, just once, he will remain untouched.
She wakes to metal tables and blinding white light.
“Hey, easy now,” comes Ryona’s soothing tone. Her pale blue skin and soft, pretty features follow as she stands from her desk before rushing to Celeste’s side.
Ryona immediately starts fluttering around, reading numbers on screens and pressing buttons as Celeste puts her hand over the bandage on her newly-sewn side with a wince.
“You’re in the med bay. Came in pretty banged up, if I do say so myself. June had to carry you back.”
The incessant ringing has cleared to the steady beeping of the surrounding machines. For the second time, it occurs to Celeste in her clarity, that man has pulled her back from the brink of death and carried her toward safety in his arms.
“I’ve never seen our cowboy quite so upset,” Ryona adds, her tone full of meaning. “He really cares about you. Remember that if he-“
Celeste shifts on the table. “If he what?”
“I had to give you eight stitches, and you lost a lot of blood. You should-”
Golden eyes, filled with conflict, meet green.
“June doesn’t handle strong emotion well. He’s afraid it makes him volatile, destructive. Dangerous.”
“Oh.” The plastic sheet crinkles as Celeste settles back against it. The non-answer makes her nervous. “Okay.”
“He’ll be fine,” Ryona comforts, squeezing her ankle softly as she sits down by her feet. “Luckily, so will you. I was worried.”
Celeste stumbles in her attempt to formulate a reply. “I- thank you.”
The words stir some strange sentiment within her, an immense wave of affection threatening to drown her in their wake. Never in her life did she imagine she would be lucky enough to be cared for so deeply by people so utterly kind.
Suddenly, a knock sounds at the door, startling both women where they sit.
“That’s probably June. He sat by your side for hours until he went to get a blanket. Said you looked cold,” then, louder, “come in!”
June almost has to duck under the door, given his immense height, and he enters carrying a stack of blankets high enough to clothe a small army.
“I didn’t know which ones-“ he begins, setting the stack of fabric on the countertop, then trails off as he registers the sight before him.
Silence ensues. Ryona’s eye flit between the two of them before she stands, says, “I’ll be outside if you need me,” and excuses herself with a warm, supportive smile over her shoulder.
“I am so, so sorry,” he breathes, air rushing forward from his lungs, coming to kneel by her side. His eyes search her face, looking for what, she doesn’t know.
“What do you have to be sorry for?”
“I should’ve protected you. I shouldn’t have let you get hurt.” He looks disgusted with himself. This, this self-loathing, is something she recognizes. “There are a lot of things I should have done,” he adds softly.
Celeste moves to sit up and hisses as the skin around her bandages stretches.
Realization dawns in June’s eyes before they shift to her side. “Can I?”
She nods, lifting the edge of her shirt to reveal the expanse of fabric that hides her wound. Looking briefly into her eyes for confirmation, June lets his fingers brush against her skin, tracing the edges of the bandage and sending a tingling feeling up Celeste’s spine. At every point where their skin meets, warmth trickles outwards from his fingertips, seeping through her skin and settling in her veins. She can feel his breath, the unmistakable warmth of it, against her bare skin.
“You’ll have a scar,” June murmurs.
“So? You already have so many.”
He frowns. “I don’t want you to be like me, Celeste. I don’t want to make you like me. How could you- that’s the last thing I want.”
“You told me to run and I chose not to. You didn’t make me do anything. I’m responsible for my own actions. Did you really think I would leave and risk you getting hurt?”
That seems to throw him for a loop. His jaw drops slightly, eyes wide. “You- you wanted to protect me?”
She traces a featherlight touch along his cheek with a shaking hand. June’s eyelashes flutter, briefly, at her touch. “Of course.”
“You’re delusional,” June says, though it lacks any bite. He simply sounds lost, a little confused. “I’ve survived much worse than a back-alley gunfight. I can handle a few more scars.”
“But you shouldn’t- you shouldn’t have to.”
She swallows, jaw working as she looks toward the ceiling, yet she can see how he shakes his head, features pulled between frustration and overwhelming torment. “You shouldn’t have to put yourself in danger for me. I’m not worth that.”
“But you are-“
“I am not.” And the finality of his words draws her gaze towards his once more. She sees something there that she’s only seen once before, the day she stood outside his cabin and he shut the door in her face .
Anger. Fire, bright flames quickly smothered with a brush of his large palm over his face.
He breathes deep, chest rising with the motion under his vest. His grey eyes look more like steel than rainclouds as he speaks. “If you can’t follow orders, I won’t be able to take you on supply runs any longer.”
“June, please. You don’t mean that.”
She doesn’t know what she’s asking for. Acceptance? His friendship? His love? Would she dare?
Could he even give her such a thing?
“I’ll see you in the morning, Celeste.” June stands again, sleeves shifting further up his forearms to show his scars. “Get some sleep.”
He doesn’t once look back once as the door closes behind him.
The metal table beneath her feels so much colder without him there. How cruel he is, to let her taste what it’s like to have him by her side, then rip it away. Left with nothing but the hum of machinery and her thoughts, she begins to wonder if she’s broken, or he is.
Or maybe they’re both broken, she thinks. Maybe they both have jagged edges, and no matter how hard she tries to fit them together, there will always be a little space in between.
It’s an uncomfortable thought, one that lulls her to sleep under fluorescent lights and the weight of her own fractured heart.
Outside, June slumps against the wall, running his hand through his hair with a sigh.
How his heart ached when he turned her affection aside, how he wanted nothing more than to relish in the feeling of her caring for him, for him, to bask in it and soak in it and let it fill all of his cracks and crevices and make him whole.
And how he knew, just as deeply and with equal certitude, that that was the last thing he could ever let himself do.
He is no stranger to pain. But the hurt he feels now is different, gnawing at a part of himself he didn’t know existed. Not since he closed it off, so long ago. Not since-
No. Not going there. No amount of time will strength long enough for him to open those doors again.
Just look at what you’ve done to her already. All you’ll ever do is hurt her.
June presses his fists into the wall by his sides, hands trembling with the effort not to leave dents in the metal. It’s so easy for him to break and ruin, so difficult to build. And that is why he cannot have her. He won’t let her become another beautiful thing shattered by the strength in his hands.
How difficult she makes it, when she looks at him as if he’s fragile, when her lips form words like care and protect and things he never thought a monster like him could ever hope to receive. He wants to lay himself down at her feet and thank the gods for giving him something so sweet.
But he is dangerous and he is deadly and he has no idea how to love someone the way she deserves.
“You could stand to let someone in, every once in a while.”
Ryona crosses her arms as she leans against the wall beside him, one eyebrow raised.
“I won’t kill you to let yourself feel, June.”
“It’s not myself I’m worried about killing.”
June tries not to flinch as she lays a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not the monster you think you are,” she says.
A part of him wants to scream, to say that she doesn’t understand, that’s she’s wrong, but that part is smothered by the warmth that bubbles in his chest at her words.
He lets his head hit the wall and closes his eyes. “I don’t know if you’re right.”
“Am I ever wrong?” Ryona grins, eyes twinkling.
He has to admit, she does have a point.
“I hope you’re able to work this out,” she says, pushing herself off the wall. She walks back into the med bay and June keeps his eyes scrunched closed until he hears the door slam shut.
More than anything, he hopes for that too.
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Andromedatober Day 4- June
June was uncharacteristically quiet. The rest of the crew was celebrating a successful mission, but June was quiet. You sat at the bar nursing your drink studying the gunman.
“If you think any louder, the whole bar will hear your thoughts.” Damon says as he saddles up next to you. “What has your brow furrowed?”
Snapping out of your daze you look at the assassin. Ever since two of you reconciled after Cursa, you counted him as one of your closest friends. “When you’re with Alisa, you seem so comfortable, you two have your own language and clues….” You sigh and take a sip of your drink. “I wish I had that with…” instead of finishing your sentence you finish your drink.
“You know, I’m pretty sure he feels the same way.” Damon pats you on the shoulder and walks off to go gamble with Bash. Damon wouldn’t lie to you, not after everything it took to get the two of you to this place in your relationship.
You gnaw on your bottom lip and try to get up the courage to go talk to June. He hasn’t been the June you know since Orion, and that scares you. What if the June you knew is gone forever? The idea of losing your first friend on the crew and the man you’ve come to care for deeply, terrifies you.
You decide you need some more liquid courage before talking to June, but you decided you would talk to June tonight.
Several drinks later you make your way over to a still sullen June.
“Hey handsome.” You smile at him.
June looks up and blinks a few times at you. “Your majesty! I didn’t see you there!”
“I just walked over so no harm done.” You smile.
June forces a smile then looks back at his drink.
You take a seat next to him. “So, uhm, is something wrong June?”
“No. Yes.” June groans. June takes a deep breath and continues to stare at his drink. After a while he speaks “Do you want to take a walk? I need some fresh air.” June gets up and leads you out of the crowded bar.
The two of you walk in silence until June stops in front of a small garden. He looks up at the stars and takes a deep breath. “I really don’t know how to say this.” He stays quiet for a few moments before meeting your eyes. “I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified.”
He chokes back a sob. “I’m in love with you and I’m terrified of the danger that would put you in.”
“I’m in danger regardless, June. I am a princess on a mercenary ship. Being hunted by a usurper and his gang of professional killers.” You grin, trying to lighten the mood.
“No. That’s not…” June runs his fingers through his hair. “You’re in danger from me. You saw what I am, you saw what I did on Orion.” He gulps down air to try to maintain his composure.
“Juniper Nyux.” You walk over so you’re directly in front of him. You make him look you in the eye, “Juniper Nyux, I love you too. I love everything about you. Nothing will change that.”
June looks at you and tilts your chin up and kisses you gently.
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