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flame-nova · 1 year

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Chapter 8: Approaching Threat

While my secret crush for Vox had been resolved, the problem with the Testament remained pending. Time was running short, and her majesty looked paler day by day. We as the Templars of course felt worried for the future of Granadia, but we were hopeless as we were unsure of what to do.

"We gotta think of something. Isn't there other books on stuff like that Berwick?" After pacing to and fro in the lobby of the headquarter, Riviera had finally stopped and turned to me for help. I gave her a helpless look. I've been going through the whole entire library in the past two days, staying up late and reading every single book I could find on the topic "Cursed Blood". But I had reaped nothing.

Vox came over and placed a gentle hand over my cheek. "You didn't even sleep in the past two days? No wonder why you seemed out of it lately.... You need to take care of yourself, Berwick.... You even got bags under your eyes."

He looked distressed. I smiled tiredly at him and placed a hand over his. "Don't worry. I'm usually a night owl. It's not like you don't know that. I'll be fine. Besides, I'm not the current top priority. At least I'm not on the verge of dying. Her majesty is the one we really should focus on. Time's running out."

Duke, who had been standing next to the book shelf and leaning against the wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest spoke. "If our mage can't even find a single solution to this, we may have to be realistic and accept the possibility that there may not be hopes for Queen Juno. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but someone have to break it to you."

"Don't you have some kind of gratitude toward her majesty?! How dare you say such a thing!" Riviera said, charging up to him angrily and was about to land a hard punch to his dark face if Thetis didn't step in on time.

"Riviera, calm down. Getting mad isn't going to get us anywhere. I'm sure there are other way out. We just need to think harder. C'mon, let's go to the library to see if we can cover anything Berwick missed. He needed a break after all."

With that, Thetis escorted Riviera out of the headquarter. I smiled gratefully at him as I watched the two of them disappear behind the door. It was just me, Vox and a very silent Duke left.

"I think you should go for a nap." Vox said as he took a seat next to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder to pull me in his warm chest. I closed my eyes, thankful for the gesture but I was not quite ready to hit the hay like that. "We can explain the reason of your absence."

I shook my head. "No. I can work more. I'm not that tired."

It was a lie. I was indeed very tired. But of course I didn't want to worry Vox and had wished that I get to spend some time with him before I call it a day. Surprisingly, Duke seemed to know what I was thinking about as he urged Vox to take the day off to be with me.

Vox started to object, but Duke reminded him how much I needed his support right now as a boyfriend consider how the research in the past had been series of dead ends. He figured that I may need some encouragement from Vox. I marveled at Duke's high EQ. In the same time, I wondered why he chose to stay single.

While I was in my own thoughts, I heard Vox calling my name. I responded absentmindedly only to hear a small sigh from him. "You're out of it again. Are you sure you're not tired?"

"Vox," I begin. The lack of sleep had finally caught up to me as I snapped at him crabbily. "Stop worrying over something small like this. I'm not a baby, and I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I don't need assistance but thank you for the thought."

The minute the words came out of my mouth, I saw hurt flashed across Vox's face like a lightning, but it soon disappeared and he had changed to his signature calm smile. "Sorry about that. What would you like to do then?"

"Just leave me alone."

Feeling disappointed in myself and the thought that I had hurt Vox clouded my better judgement. I left a emotionless farewell before leaving the headquarter, ignoring Vox's attempt to stop me.

I wandered around, letting my feet take me to whenever I end up. Before I knew it, I was at the spot where Vox first confessed to me. The hill stood over a high place, overlooking the whole entire kingdom of Granadia. My eyes were wide with surprise and marvel as I never expected the place to be so beautiful during day time as it was during night time. I found a good shady spot and sat down with my knees pulled close to my chest. I wrapped my arms around my legs as I kept my eyes nailed to the scenery in front of me. But I wasn't there for long until I heard a voice behind me. One that I was way too familiar with.

"Care if I join you?"

I made no reply. The demon still made his way over to me, sat behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

"I know you wanted to be left alone. But I just wanted you to know that I care about you. And yes, there's that fear of losing you again. But I'll try better and not treat you like a baby. Will you forgive me?"

His voice soft against my ear, instantly calming me down. My shoulders relaxed as I let go of my knees and leaned backwards, against his shoulder. "And I have to apologize for snapping at you like that. I was exhausted and I couldn't think straight. I'm sorry."

He only wrapped his arms tighter around me as he buried his nose in my neck, breathing in my scent. "Don't worry. I'm not angry. I know."

I smiled softly and closed my eyes. Sleep finally caught up to me as my eyelids felt heavy. "I'm going to take a nap like this if you don't mind."

Vox responded with a muffled sound. I snuggled against him, tossed and turned my body until I found a comfortable spot in his arms before letting myself drift away into Dreamland.

It was late afternoon when I woke up. First thing I saw was a pair of strong arms around me. I smiled and looked up to see Vox sleeping peacefully leaned against the tree behind him. A few strands of his cerulean hair was in his face. I reached out a hand and brushed it away as I admired his handsome features. I was told that I had always looked feminine with my waist length hair and my delicate face. I didn't mind that. I was never offended by their comments. I took pride in being "beautiful", as they called it. I giggled, I remembered a time where demons mistakening me for a girl. I was 10 at the time.

"What's so funny?"

I pulled myself back from memory lane to see a very amused Vox looking at me with a teasing smile on his face. I blushed. "Oh, I was just looking at you and remembered a time where demons thought I was a girl. It was a long time ago of course."

Vox reached out a hand to play with my long hair before bringing a strand to his lips and kissed it. "Not going to lie, you are good-looking, and you do possess features like that of a young demon in her early 20s."

I rolled my eyes. "You're not the first one who told me that. Surprisingly, I don't take offense to being called 'beautiful'. I just got used to the teasing I suppose....."

I trailed off. Suddenly became aware with the fact that my family will probably not accept this relationship and will most likely not give their blessing if we do get married someday. Subconsciously, I felt a hand on my cheek. I pulled my train of memories back to the man in front of me.

"What's wrong, Berwick? You seemed troubled all of a sudden."

"What if my family don't agree with this relationship?" I begin, sounding separate. "I love you, and I cannot feel the same way toward any other demons. I had always and will always love you. It's impossible for me to deny my feelings of you...."

Vox gently kissed my forehead. "Berwick, my beloved. Don't worry about the future. Let's enjoy the present and let life do its thing. Life is like a current. If you swim upstream, you'll soon be tired and out of stamina. But if you learned to go with the flow, you'll be fine."

I nodded and closed my eyes, thankful that I had found such a caring and thoughtful boyfriend. Sure, he may not be romantic, but his love is silent. Only reserved for me. It made me feel special.

I smiled only to feel a pair of lips against mine. I returned the kiss and felt Vox's arms around me tighten. I moved a hand to his cheek and caressed it. He pulled away and held my hand to his. His amber eyes locked in gaze with mine. All of a sudden I felt emotional.

"Vox..... " I begin, but I had nothing to say. He only smiled and assured me with his own tender, gentle ways.

"Mhm. I'm here."

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It was dinner time when we made our way back to the castle. Thetis had cooked us quite a feast. Vox and I were the last to arrive as Duke was sitting at his usual seat waiting for Thetis to serve him while Riviera had already digged away at her own portion. Queen Juno was there as well, but she seemed lost in thought as she stared at the white tablecloth. I took a seat next to Vox and waited for Thetis to come to us with our plates of food.

Dinner was very good thanks to Thetis' hobby of culinary. However, Queen Juno didn't touch her food. Not even one bite. We all looked at each other wondering if she was okay until Vox gathered up his courage to speak. He was a dear friend to Queen Juno and she trusted him so it only made sense that he would be the one to pop the question.

"Ahem," he coughed. "Your highness, you seemed like you had lost an appetite today. Was Thetis' cooking not good enough to satisfy you?"

"Oh no!" She looked up and waved her hands in a frantic motion. "It's not him. In fact, it's very delicious. Thank you for the meal Thetis."

Thetis nodded but Vox didn't seemed happy that she had redirected his question. He didn't give up and tried again.

"You seemed troubled your highness. We are your knights and I believe you do owe us an explanation. Why do you seem so down?"

The Queen pushed away her food and stood up. Looking at all of us in the eyes, her crimson orbs dimmed in sadness. "I found out that all of you are trying to search for a way to cure me of the Cursed Blood. I am thankful, really. But I don't want to work you guys further and put the duty of protecting Granadia behind. I was just told by one of our soldiers patrolling the borders that someone in Granadia was trying to plot treason against us."

Then, her majesty's gaze turned to me. I had a sinking feeling inside. I kept telling myself that it was going to be fine, but reality proved me wrong.

"And apparently, the traitor is closer to your family, Berwick. I know it's hard to deal with old trauma with your own flesh and blood, but may I ask your hand in assisting us by acting as a double agent and infiltrate the enemy's database as a spy?" Her eyes pleading as they were filled with desperation. "I know I'm asking a lot. But it's the smallest way you can help me feel better aside of your effort to find a cure for the Cursed Blood."

Despite my own feelings, I placed my right hand over my heart. My eyes aflame with determination. "I swore on my heart that I will protect Granadia with all my life. If you need me, I will be right by your side without hesitation."

Her majesty smiled. Turning to Vox, she warned him solemnly. "And during this time, Vox. I need you to stay away from Berwick publicly as much as you possibly can. We don't want the plan being spoiled by letting Berwick being spotted with the captain of the Juno Templars. It will be very disadvantageous to our side."

Vox was about to object, but I squeezed his hand from under the table and mentioned for him to stay quiet. He nodded with a gravely expression. We were soon dismissed from the table. Riviera and Thetis went to take a walk in the woods. Duke hurried away to fill in for the night shift. Her majesty was called to deal with an important matter of the court. It was just me and Vox left sitting in the room. Servants were coming in to clean and collect the dirty dishes.

Vox still seemed to be stuck in his own train of thoughts. I didn't want to bother him so I told him that I'll be in my room if he needed me before leaving for my bed chamber.

I changed into my night clothes and was brushing out my tangled hair until I heard a knock on the door. I opened it to see a distraunt Vox standing outside. I let him in and as soon as I locked the door behind me, he wrapped me up in a tight hug. I hugged him back.

"What's wrong?" I asked, voice muffled in his chest. "You seemed awfully insecure tonight."

"I just don't want to lose you again." He replied. "Especially this time. Who knows how powerful our enemy is? Besides, if anything were to happen to you, I won't be there on time to save you like the last time."

I smiled and squeezed him in reassurance. "Don't worry. Consider my family is close to the traitor, he won't lay a hand on me unless he wanted to be burned to ashes. I think you forgot that your boyfriend here is the most powerful mage in all of Granadia."

I pulled back and grinned at him. My efforts of comforting him was not in vain as I saw a small smile escaping the corners of his mouth. "Can I sleep with you tonight?" He asked.

"Of course."

He left and came back shortly after a while with his own night clothes. Picking me up bridal styled, he laid me on the bed, switched out the light and snuggled me close to his chest.

My bed was facing the window and outside, the sky was clear and I could see Ursa Minor smiling brightly over us, its tail pointing at the north. I turned to see Vox sound asleep. I smiled. He forgot to say good night before he passed out. Maybe the day had been long, but I was thankful that I had someone so loving and protective like him as a boyfriend. I just hoped I could stay with him forever like this and never leave his side.

I gave his lips a small peck, tucked the blanket under his chin and snuggled into his chest. Smiling, I drifted off to sleep.

"Good night Vox, my beloved. See you in Dreamland."

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Author's Note

Done!!! Sorry for the late chapter update. I had fights with my own boyfriend and we almost came to a point of breaking up. So yeah, in the midst of my sadness, I didn't feel like writing so that's why I haven't been updating in the past two days. Sorry about that.

I decided to write my own experience into this because again, not all relationship are perfect and just because the partner don't say they love you doesn't mean they don't love you. You just haven't realized how they love you from your own point of view. That's all.

I don't want to rant on more on the topic of love because I could write a novel on such matter so yeah, let's move on lol. Hope you guys liked the little plot twist I added in this chapter. And next chapter will go back to the main plot, which is the canon side of the story. I hope you all are excited for that. I know I'm excited to write it!

I'm so thankful that you guys are still reading this up to this point. Really encouraged me to write more contents on this matter. Thank you all for your supports.

Special shout out to my good friend Flare-chan. I won't mention who she is for the sake of her confidentiality since I don't have her permission to reveal her identity. If you're reading this Flare-chan, thank you for being there supporting me through my pain and simp Berwick with me. It was fun and I dedicate this chapter for you. Thank you for everything and hugs to you!

Next chapter is on the way!

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blue-mood-blue · 3 years

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This time, the shot goes through his heart.

It feels... catastrophic. Like the end of everything, tearing through him in one breathless moment that promises he will never be back in one piece. It’s the slamming of a book, the screeching of a bow against strings, and it should happen too quickly to hurt but there’s still plenty of time to hurt.

Time slows down as Juno absorbs the full portrait of his last moments of life. There’s a burning in his chest and a ringing in his ears that almost muffles the strangled sound coming from where he last remembers seeing Nureyev. Juno feels flushed and cold in flashes, like his body doesn’t know what to do in the aftermath of the impact, and the shock fights to shield his mind while his eyes look for anything - anyone - familiar. He’s falling slowly, but it’s not such a long way down this time, just to the ground, and the thought that this isn’t how it’s supposed to end is ricocheting through his mind. Someone said something profound about the best laid plans and what to expect from them, but Juno is fading too quickly to remember. It doesn’t matter.

Everything surrenders to silence.

The pain is far away and getting farther. Everything is getting farther. Juno is getting farther, sinking into something, clinging to the last thought left to him: someone’s waiting on him, somewhere. He has to get up. He can’t afford to get stuck in his bed today with that heavy weight pinning him in place - he has to go find... someone.

Are you sure? It’s not really a question and not really words; it’s an idea in his head about a decision he might make, if he’s sure he wants to wake up. It would be easier to go back to sleep, he tells himself, maybe, without words.

I have to get up. They’re waiting.

So be it.

Juno is suddenly, hideously awake. His heart throbs like someone squeezes it, and again, and again - agonizing rhythm, a fasimile of a heartbeat that stopped when Juno wasn’t paying attention. He gasps for breath against lungs that won’t expand to accommodate him, drowning on nothing, mouth gaping. There’s a pressure in his chest, and it’s building, expanding...

He isn’t dying anymore. There’s no quiet dark waiting for him at the end of this. He’s dragged, gaping and struggling, back to life.

Three hours after being shot through the heart, Juno Steel gets to his feet.

~~~

He counts the steps of the guard, the seconds until his opportunity, the twirl of the knife they don’t know he has. Everything has narrowed to the count. The count keeps him still, in the moment, focused - the count, repeated steady as a dancer’s steps, is the only thing with the power to drown out that echoing sound of gunfire.

No. No. Don’t think about that now. It will be over soon.

Nureyev counts down the moments until he makes his move. It would be too much credit to call it a plan - more accurate by far to call it one last, desperate bid to sow a little chaos before he can just stop thinking.

Someone drops something on the metal floor nearby, and the sudden noise almost makes him drop the knife. He loses the count. The images crowd back in: Juno appearing like the answer to a prayer, furious but still looking for him, so close to reaching him... a guard behind Juno, blaster at his back... the noise... the blood.

Nureyev squeezes the handle of his knife, and he doesn’t stop until he feels the pinprick of pain on his palm where his grip is just a little uneven. Only a little while longer, and he’ll stop seeing it. He’d thought he wanted to know everything about Juno, but he never wanted to know what Juno’s face looked like when -

File it away.

(How is he meant to file this away - that sound, the sight of that blood - it shattered him. How can he file Juno away like he’s a distraction -)

Nureyev counts. It feels like all he’s capable of, or he’ll fall to pieces. Or maybe this is what he looks like, in pieces: one last clockwork part on the floor, ticking on for no one, for nothing.

He counts.

It doesn’t work.

He remembers the way Juno looked at him when the gun touched his back, the way he tried to interpret what Juno’s expression was meant to say. He remembers thinking that Juno couldn’t be here alone; even if the rest of the Carte Blanche decided he wasn’t worth the effort, they wouldn’t abandon Juno. They must be right behind him. Jet would barrel in, or Vespa would take out the snipers on the upper walkway. Buddy would demonstrate her own expert aim. Rita would cut the lights. Somehow, Juno’s family would save him, because Juno couldn’t be here alone.

So when they asked Nureyev if he knew Juno, and Juno looked at him with an expression that Nureyev couldn’t parse, he only wanted to give them more time.

We’ve never met, with a sneer perfected from a lifetime of playacting roles.

And then -

The knife is spinning frantically in Nureyev’s hand. It feels more like he’s trying to keep a hold on it, calm it and keep it falling back to him, than that he has any control over its movement. Soon. Soon he’ll kill as many people in the room as he can manage with a single knife, and they’ll kill him, and he won’t have to think about Juno dead on the ground anymore.

Nureyev thinks, I miss you. And at the sound of a blaster, he begins.

The damage he can do with one knife is considerable, and either he’s more adept at dodging blaster fire than he gave himself credit for, or the person firing has terrible aim. It’s a small blessing, and he’s not grateful for it. He’s ready. He would kill them all for Juno, but more than that he’s ready to be done and he hopes Juno can forgive him for that. His hands are bloody, he’s lost in a dangerous rhythm, and he thinks it’s nearly over when a hand reaches out and spins him around too quickly for him to ready his knife fast enough and -

And everything stops.

“Juno?” Nureyev doesn’t know who says it, but it couldn’t have been him - it couldn’t have been Nureyev, who feels like the air has been punched out of him. Nureyev is as still as a statue, unbreathing and unmoving with his knife in front of him and something impossible at the end of it, and maybe this is a blessing he can be grateful for. One more look.

But the hand that reaches up and lowers his knife is warm and familiar, and that voice is unmistakeable. “I don’t... I’m okay. I’m okay, Nureyev, but we have to go now.”

“How... are you...” How are you standing. How are you here. How could Nureyev possibly deserve another chance.

“I don’t know.” But his face says he might know something.

What Nureyev hates most of all is that he wants to believe it. He wants it so badly that he paws at Juno’s shirt before he’s found the words for a denial, looks for proof past bloodstained fabric before he demands it from Juno. He finds smooth skin. He finds smooth skin in a star-shaped pattern of scar tissue that interrupts the scars around it, the sign of a devastating wound that might have happened months ago.

It’s been hours.

Juno was dead.

Nureyev saw it happen. Nureyev saw the life leave his eyes.

“I lost you.” His voice shakes.

“Not yet.” The feeling of a calloused thumb wiping away a tear Nureyev didn’t know was there is the most real anything’s felt since seeing the blood. “You didn’t lose me yet.”

He wants to say more - there’s so much he thought of to say, after - but Juno doesn’t give him the time. He takes him by the hand and leads him through corridors, along a route that seems familiar to him. Sometimes he stops, breathing heavy and leaning against the wall, clutching his chest where that smooth scar is. Nureyev tries not to think about the possibility of losing Juno again. Nureyev counts their footsteps instead, counts the florescent lights they run under on their way to escape, counts the times he must lose his composure because he feels Juno’s hand squeeze around his.

When they reach the Ruby 7, Juno falls to his knees and Nureyev falls with him. A woman Nureyev doesn’t recognize stares at the bloodied shirt, the lack of wound... and then hauls Juno into the backseat. She doesn’t protest when Nureyev crawls in after him, just arranges Juno’s head on Nureyev’s lap while Juno gasps and writhes.

“Stay with me, love,” Nureyev whispers. He gives up holding Juno’s hand to hold his wrist instead. He counts the heartbeats. “Stay here with me.”

“Not going anywhere,” Juno grunts out, and it’s a testiment to his strength of will that he finds it in himself to smile up at Nureyev. “This isn’t what dying looks like.”

Nureyev leans down far enough to rest his forehead against Juno’s. “I know.”

#tpp #the penumbra podcast #jupeter #juno steel #peter nureyev #junoverse #tw character death #(but only for a little while!)#tw suicide ideation #(but also! temporary!)#season 4 speculation #listen what if the cmp gave Juno FUCKOFF regeneration abilities #I just think that would be tasty #I am going to speculate about the cmp for the rest of the hiatus and you cannot stop me #‘were you inspired by re8’ you may well ask and listen. yes.#’do you have an au of that type also planned’ MAYBE BUT YOU CAN’T PROVE ANYTHING

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jamestrmtx · 3 years

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Wish Upon a Night Sky - [Beastars | Various x Reader]

[Female, Sheep Reader | Slow Burn]

Act Two | Down to Earth

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

"What are you standing there alone for, (Y/N)? Come sit with me!"

While you expect Juno would rather have lunch with people she already knows well, you see her stand up from her seat and approach your side when she spots you nearby. She holds the tray firm in one hand and waves with the other. In response, you smile and grab your own tray tight before following her, all while ignoring the ever-growing feeling of everyone's eyes on you, regardless of almost all the students around being too busy eating, talking, and walking to notice your presence. So far, and -- close to what you expected -- you've only talked with the wolf and the dog; the latter you hadn't even come across with since yesterday afternoon. Truth be told, you want to take up his offer and knock at the door of his dorm, but more than one reason restrains you from doing it.

First, you'd only known him for a day, and even if you really did only need to ask him more about the school, you couldn't gather sufficient courage to do it. Second, you didn't want to risk making your parents worry by telling them the very first thing you'd done was run off to the boys' dorm without a care in the world. Third and most important of all right now, you didn't know how to keep up a normal conversation with Juno without worrying about your word choice every few seconds, so merely thinking of doing the same with Jack made you retreat on the idea without thinking it twice. Having to share a room with someone else and the impending need to form small talk and prevent yourself from seeming rude or awkward was already draining enough -- mentally, most of all. You're aware you're far from prepared to tackle any other, larger issues without having an internal meltdown over them, so it's best to set some limits for the moment being; perhaps eventually, you could handle a bigger crowd, but today's not that day.

Being homeschooled weights more as a con the more hours you spend at this school. Not only do you have a hard time being social and getting adjusted to such a large campus, but you barely have any knowledge of the relationship between carnivores, herbivores, and those in-between. If you didn't wish to be classified as ignorant or naïve, you would soon need to ask either Juno or Jack to tell you where the library is. Starting off with some basic research is about the least you can do to break out of that shell -- once and for all.

"...Earth to lamb?"

You flinch and almost topple the juice box on your tray.

It takes you a second to process that you've already made it to a table, and a few more to acknowledge Juno's now sitting down -- and with an empty chair waiting across from her, too.

"Sorry," you say, mouth and ears drooping just as much as your courage. Your head spins as you rush to sit down and shrink away in your seat, avoiding eye contact with her by all means possible. Then, you take your drink, open it, and sip some of it, hoping to ease the tension out of you. "I keep... spacing out lately."

Juno smiles and tilts her head to the side, while her ears perk and her gaze lights up. Her eyes are intent on you, and these carry the same brightness as when she talked with you about love. "Someone on your mind?" She looks behind her -- as if expecting to see your source of interest from close by; her smile remains intact as she goes back to looking at you. "Is it Jack?" she asks, winking. "You looked like you were getting along pretty well with him yesterday."

You smile back, though you still end up shaking your head to let her know otherwise. Having a crush on someone so quick and suddenly was unlikely for you, but the reminder of how passionate she seemed about this particular subject yesterday makes you believe she's the type to fall fast and love lavishly. You fork some of the salad on your tray and toy with it for a moment, mind yet to return from its journey as you consider her words and just how different your view on love is when compared to hers. "I was thinking of him, but not like that." You take in some air and brace yourself for any incoming questions. "I was actually wondering if… if you knew where the library is? I know he offered to help, but-"

"So there is something going on with you!" The wolf interrupts you with her excitement and stands up from her seat. Her gaze is now as wide as the smile on her face, and her energy almost rubs off on you. She places her hands on the table, leans in, and suspends herself over it. "Was it love at first sight? Don't skim on the details, (Y/N)!"

You scratch your throat and prepare yourself with a deep breath, at a dire need to tell her the truth.

"Ah, n- no." You set the fork down and look up to meet with her eyes. The desire to clear things up grows stronger, and you can't ignore it for much longer. "I just want to make friends, but I'm not sure I'll be too successful in that, considering how… who I am."

Juno's excitement falls. Her gaze knits as she sits back down, and a frown replaces her smile, overpowering her previous attitude entirely. "What do you mean?"

You gather wit to be blunt, not wanting to sugarcoat how you feel about yourself and this recent change. "Frankly, I'm…" Your words trail off and you hesitate with a deep breath in, along with one out. "I feel I'm too... ignorant to understand how to get along better with others at this school." Hunger stays absent -- even when you stare down at your plate and breathe in its scent. Your confidence from yesterday proves to be little and outright superficial with how different you feel today, reaching towards a level of self-consciousness you haven't experienced since your early teens. "I only ever went to kindergarten, and the rest of my years were taught at home." You grab the juice box and drink from it in an attempt at finding your appetite again. When you gulp, it feels worse than before. Nausea arrives with how much you dwell over a single topic. "To be honest, It… It surprised me when I noticed I'd be staying in the same dorm as you. Jack heard me say something… rude about it, though I'm not sure if you heard me, too."

"Oh, I heard you," Juno replies, a laugh leaving her mouth. She takes a bite from her food before continuing with, "But I pretended not to."

"Why would you do that?" you ask, now your turn to frown. "You were so close by when I yelled that…" Your face turns hot the longer you think about that memory. "It was rude of me. A terrible first impression, that's for sure!"

A grin forms on her face, though she doesn't say anything yet. Rather, she takes another bite off her meal, almost emptying the plate in the process. How fast she eats prompts you to start eating from your tray, against wasting any food and risking the chances of feeling hungry by your next class. "Maybe it was, but I wanted to see if you would bring it up someday." She sets the cutlery down and glances behind you, grin growing. "And you did," she adds, words as confident as you wish you could be. "Much earlier than I thought you would." Juno gazes behind you again; her tail wags and her eyes spark with what looks to be mischief. "Look behind you!"

You do as suggested and almost end up falling from your seat when you come face-to-face with Jack, his knees currently bent to match with your sitting height. His snout is nearly close enough to brush with yours, and that same excitement and joy from yesterday remains in his stance. "How's your first day going?" he asks, tail wagging at a similar pace to Juno's, although his smile proves to be more genuine rather than teasing. "It's nice to see you making friends already!" His eyes shift towards the wolf and turn back to you once more. Then, a slip of paper is offered out to you, this one folded neat and compact for you to carry. "Here's my number, in case you ever want to hang out."

"Being bold again, aren't you, Jack?"

His hold on the paper stays even as you take it; a hint of embarrassment shows up on his cheeks when he looks at Juno. Her comment -- slowly, but surely -- dawns on him and leads to him staying frozen in that same spot for a while. "It's not like that!" Jack exclaims, snapping out of it. He finally lets go of it to stand up straight and meet the wolf with a flustered gaze.

Juno, on the other hand, laughs it out with just as much glee as the first time "Sure, it's not," she replies, giggling. Her teasing nature returns in an instant, hardly giving him a chance to recover from the previous blow. "First, you invite her to your place, and then you give her your number, too? I'm the person you can least hide these things from."

That's enough for her to shut his mouth.

Jack's forced to find a distraction by facing you again, with a less confident look now present in his eyes. "Think we could talk later? I'm meeting up with some friends today." He stops for a second; fluster falls from his face as a cheery expression makes its return. "And maybe I can introduce you to some of them, too. I'm sure they'd like to meet someone new!" He takes a final glance at the paper before leaving the table, an act done while avoiding Juno's gaze from all angles.

"Y- You can still keep that, by the way."

With that last, stuttered sentence, he runs off -- but not before waving goodbye.

You wave back and watch as he disappears from your sight, leaving you alone with Juno once more, who smiles in response.

"So... Friends, huh?" she jokes, letting out a laugh.

Your tray almost ends up on the floor when she says that, hands shaking to the point where you can't bring much control over them anymore.

While you're aware she's not being serious and that it's all done in good fun, you can't help dwelling too much on whether you're supposed to be here, and if someone like you would only cause more trouble to the school and all its people.

"I'll take your word for it, (Y/N)."

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Updates will be weekly on Mondays from here on out!

#various x reader #legoshi x reader #legosi x reader #haru x reader #jack x reader #juno x reader #rouis x reader #louis x reader #beastars x reader #female reader #sheep reader #slow burn #romance #mystery #thriller #lgbt #lgbt themes #long fic

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moodykylo · 3 years

Text

Sleep Deprived

CW: Sleep deprivation, canon typical self loathing

Spoilers for tpp season 2&3

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Juno Steel was exhausted. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept a full night on the Carte Blanche, and it was starting to catch up to him.

Juno’s sleep was becoming increasingly restless as the nights came and went; each night leaving old memories rearing their ugly heads. When he was able to sleep, it was anything but peaceful. Whenever Juno found himself drifting off, nightmares would begin behind his eyes, jolting him awake. He had to stop sleeping in the same room as Nureyev in fear of waking him. Now, he was alone, nightmares becoming worse and worse. He had really thought he was done with these childish nightmares of Sarah and Benzaiten, but now they were increasing in both frequency and fervency.

Now, Juno was sitting in his own room, on his bed, eyes burning with fatigue and brain on fire with memories. He sat in his bed, eyelids drooping as he fought with sleep.

After about half an hour, sleep finally won and Juno’s dreams were anything but sweet. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he thrashed in his sleep, mumbling quietly, behind his eyes a scene of the past replaying like a favorite movie, until finally, he woke with a gasp, chest heaving.

Juno groaned, standing from his bed. He wandered out into the hallway - if he was going to be awake, he might as well make himself useful. He stopped in the middle of the hall to lean on the wall as dizziness hit him with no warning. Frustrated with the spell, he pushed through it, rubbing at his eyes.

Juno entered the kitchen, taking out his comms and squinting at it. The rest of the Carte Blanche crew would be up soon. At least he’d gotten some sleep that night, he thought to himself with a bitter laugh. He got himself a glass of water before walking over to the stove and starting to cook a simple meal as breakfast for the crew.

Contrary to popular belief, Juno did know how to cook. Sure, his ability wasn’t anything spectacular, but he did know how to cook something decent. Today, “something decent” was pancakes. He made almost every pancake perfectly round, saving the oblong one for himself (although he could only manage to eat half of it).

Juno was just finishing up making the pancakes for almost everyone on the ship - although Buddy would be having her usual morning cocktail instead - when Jet walked into the kitchen, bright and early as usual.

“Juno. You’re awake before usual,” Jet said before gazing at the pancakes. “And you’ve cooked. This is out of character, you sleep the latest of everyone,” Jet observed.

“Hey big guy. I was just awake early, couldn’t sleep.” Juno shrugged. He wasn’t exactly lying per se, but he wasn’t telling the truth, either. Juno rubbed his eyes as another dizzy spell threatened to make him lose his balance.

Jet looked Juno once over without saying a word, and then he grabbed a plate of pancakes. Rita walked into the kitchen next, eyes wide upon seeing Juno standing there.

“Mistah steel! You’re never awake this early! You made pancakes too!? What, is it my birthday or somethin’? No, no my birthday ain’t for another few months-” Rita rambled before Juno cut her off to explain.

“Just couldn’t sleep. Wanted to do something nice for once, I guess,” he mumbled, leaning against the counter to keep himself steady - why was he so dizzy? Well, it could be the lack of sleep, but it had to be more than that, he thought to himself before Rita’s voice pulled him out of thought.

“Awww Mistah Steel, that was awful sweet of ya. Thanks, boss!” Rita said before grabbing her pancakes.

“Not your bo- You’re welcome, Rita.” Juno sighed, a tired smile playing on his lips.

There was a short wait before the rest of the crew was in the kitchen all with varying reactions.

“Woah Steel, didn’t know you were capable of being awake before noon, or that you could cook!” Vespa joked before taking a look at Juno, he looked absolutely exhausted. She walked closer to him, talking so only he could hear. “You alright? You look tired.”

Juno sighed before pushing the heel of his palm into his eyes. “Just fine Vespa, just couldn’t sleep last night.” He blinked hard, trying to get rid of the thick weight of exhaustion from his eyes.

Vespa almost said something else before Buddy walked into the kitchen.

“What’s this about Juno cooking?” Buddy said looking over at the pancakes and her cocktail sitting on the counter, not missing how utterly wrecked Juno himself looked. She had known Juno had not been sleeping and saw it was now catching up with the ex P.I. “I’m impressed, wonderful job.” she praised.

“Thanks…” Juno replied timidly. He was always struck with an odd pride when Buddy complimented his work.

Before any other words could be said, Nureyev entered the kitchen. “Juno, you’re up early…” His eyes were filled with an unspoken worry. Juno just shook his head, already knowing Peter wanted to ask what was wrong.

“I’m fine, Ransom.” Juno replied before sitting down abruptly; standing was becoming too much work, his knees felt weak and his vision was fading in and out, he was cold, was anyone else cold? It didn’t seem that way…

“Look everyone I’m fine, I just couldn’t sleep so I figured why don’t I make myself useful for once in the morning.” Juno said again, a tad too crankily. The tone made both Nureyev and Buddy raise an eyebrow, but the conversation was already moving forward when Rita started talking about a stream. Nureyev grabbed his pancakes and Buddy grabbed her meal replacement, a pinot noir, and sat down.

When everyone was distracted from the discussion, Juno snuck out of the kitchen and into his bedroom to hide under his blankets - he was freezing. He knew that this probably meant a fever. The chills doubled with the room spinning when he moved too quickly and the splitting headache he had, he knew he was completely fucked for the day.

He closed his eyes for a second before someone was knocking on his door, next thing he knew he was on his feet grabbing clothes from his closet. “Come in,” he said quietly.

“Juno darling.” Nureyev’s gently called out before walking into the room. “Are you alright? You left rather quickly.” Peter looked over to Juno picking out clothes from the closet.

“Yeah, just changing into some actual clothes…” Juno responded, putting his selected clothes on the bed. He discreetly grabbed onto the bedpost as the worst dizzy spell that day hit him.

“Juno?” Peter asked as he watched Juno grip the bedpost and sway dangerously. “What’s going on?”

“‘M fine, just need a minute.” Juno straightened himself out trying to pretend nothing had even happened. “What’s up? What did you need?” Juno looked at Peter, shaking his head to clear the blurriness that was obstructing his view of his beautiful boyfriend, his makeup already done for the day, and suddenly he was embarrassed to be seen in his current state.

“Are you okay? What happened just then?” Nureyev walked closer to Juno, taking note of how tired he looked, of the slight flush he could see on Juno’s face. “Are you sick? You look exhausted.”

Juno mentally cursed himself, he was busted - he knew he couldn’t lie to Peter Nureyev, whenever he tried the thief saw through his lies immediately.

“No, I’m not sick. Just haven’t been sleeping very well lately. It’s kind of starting to take a physical toll.” He sat down on his bed, too weak to stand, a chill running up his spine, accentuating his weakness.

“Nightmares again?” Peter asked Juno, to which the other nodded. Peter took note of Juno’s state and frowned, concern evident on his face.

“Are you sure you’re not ill? You seem to have a fever.” Nureyev cupped Juno’s face, frown deepening at the heat he found.

“Careful Nureyev, you don’t want to get frown lines.” Juno joked before leaning into the coolness of Peter’s hands.

“Now isn’t the time for jokes, darling, I am rather worried about you.” Peter said to Juno, cupping his too-hot cheek.

“‘M okay.” Juno said, still leaning into Peter.

“You don’t seem okay, dear… I’ll be right back, alright?” Nureyev asked, sitting Juno down on his bed. He was going to get Vespa, she was the ship’s doctor, after all, she would know what to do.

“...Okay,” Juno responded after a beat.

Peter took a final look at Juno, smiling at him worriedly before walking out of the room and beginning the search for Vespa.

With Nureyev’s absence, Juno laid down on his bed, wrapping himself in blankets, trying to keep his eyes open. It was a grueling task, but he didn’t really feel like reliving every traumatic event he’d ever had upon falling asleep.

Sleep almost won, but just barely, Nureyev was back in Juno’s room with Vespa before the former P.I. could succumb to slumber.

“Steel, I knew something was up with you this morning,” Vespa said as she entered the room, looking Juno over.

Nureyev stood out of Vespa’s way, nervously watching, he’d seen Juno deal with quite a lot, and perhaps that’s what made him more nervous.

“So, you wanna tell me what’s wrong, or am I going to have to examine you?” Vespa asked Juno, who only nodded listlessly.

“Yes to which one Steel?” Vespa asked sharply, her worry coming off as impatience, she was used to Juno’s sharp tongue, and seeing him acting so unlike himself was worrying.

“First one. Haven’t been sleeping well.” Juno slurred exhaustedly.

Vespa looked at him sympathetically, she understood sleepless nights due to nightmares, she, however, had never had a time where the sleeplessness caught up to her quite as bad as it did Juno.

“There’s nothing I can really do besides treat the fever Ransom told me about.” Vespa explained, pulling out fever reducers and handing them to Juno, who swallowed them dry and laid down.

Vespa and Peter exchanged a worried look before Vespa left the room.

Juno watched Vespa leave through half-closed eyes, fighting against sleep. He ultimately lost the battle, however, when he was asleep within minutes of Vespa’s departure.

Peter watched Juno fall asleep, sighing in relief watching the ex-detective’s features grow soft and unguarded in sleep. Unfortunately for Juno, this peaceful sleep didn’t last long.

After about an hour of Juno sleeping “peacefully”, Nureyev watched Juno’s expression twist into discomfort, sweat rolling down his boyfriend’s face, cheeks slightly flushed from fever. Juno started mumbling incoherently, terrified of a threat invisible to Nureyev’s eyes.

Nureyev considered waking Juno as he watched him grow more and more terrified, but ultimately didn’t need to, Juno woke on his own, a strangled cry ripping from his throat.

Juno couldn’t remember what his dream was about when he woke, hearing his own screams and feeling tears slipping down his cheeks, but he was still shaken anyway. He remembered hearing screams and feeling cool tears in his dream but maybe that was just his own.

Nureyev was staring at him, looking at Juno with such worry that it made the P.I. feel sick to his stomach. He didn’t like being the cause of such a look.

“Sorry, I’m okay.” Juno said timidly, watching Peter relax a little.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Peter asked, but regretted it when he saw Juno visibly tense at the question.

“I don’t exactly remember what happened.” Juno explained, weariness seeping out with every word.

Nureyev only nodded, letting Juno drift off again.

____________________________________________________________________________

Many hours passed of the same cycle of Juno sleeping and waking with a strangled noise, whether it be a gasp or a scream, and Juno could tell it was only stressing Peter out, so when dinner finally came, Juno practically begged Nureyev to take a break from watching him.

“I’ll be fine, It’ll only be an hour at most.” He’d said, Nureyev, nodding and leaving with a look of apprehension.

Juno sighed, he knew why Nureyev was hesitant to leave, why he was always hesitant to leave; because Juno himself had left him alone.

After the guilt wore off, Juno found his eyes growing heavy once more and he fell back to sleep.

It was quiet for a while before Juno awoke again, sweat pouring down his face, and a faint knock at the door.

“Come in,” Juno said quietly, expecting Vespa to be checking in on him, however, that was not who it was.

“Ah Juno, I hope I didn’t wake you.” It was Buddy, her heels clicking on the floor as she walked into Juno’s room.

“You didn’t wake me, I was already awake,” Juno said, embarrassed; he respected Buddy, and here he was looking like a mess.

Buddy frowned. “Ah well, I’d like to have a chat with you,” Buddy said, her nerves ever slightly showing.

Juno’s chest tightened with fear. “Um, yeah, sure…” Juno replied, feeling like a child caught with their hand caught in the cookie jar.

“You’re not in any sort of trouble. I just want to ask, are you alright? I’ve just noticed you haven’t been sleeping recently, and well, I’ve been woken up a few times from hearing you scream.” Buddy explained looking at Juno with pity.

Juno felt small and weak. “I’m sorry.” He responded meekly, guilt ever so evident in his tone.

“Nonsense,” Buddy replied sitting on Juno’s bed, keeping her distance but still sitting close enough to be a comfort. “It’s no bother to me, it only concerns me that you’re bottling things up again.” She gave Juno a knowing look.

“Sorry.” Juno replied, looking at the floor. He felt the guilt crawl up from his chest and into his throat and before he knew it, he was crying in front of the person he respected the most.

Buddy felt a pang of sadness but did not let it show, she kept her composure and began to speak again.

“I know things haven’t been easy for you. I don’t want you bottling all these emotions up, how about you talk about these nightmares of yours with me? No pressure but, it might help.” Buddy said, placing a comforting hand on Juno’s back.

And with that, Juno began to sob, spilling his guts to Buddy, telling her everything that happened in his dreams. He wailed and retold the memories to Buddy, stopping with hiccuping breaths.

Buddy had known of the former P.I’s struggles but hadn’t known the extent of them all. Perhaps she could blame the fever but she hadn’t expected all the walls Juno had built up to crumble at that moment, but she knew one thing - Juno trusted her.

Juno couldn’t believe how easily he’d just said everything to Buddy, his captain, and the person who could kick him out of the crew at the slightest wrong move. He didn’t care, he finally felt light, lighter than he’d felt in months, and after a few moments, he spoke.

“So much for you not being my therapist,” Juno said with a tired smile.

Buddy laughed, the sound hearty and melodic, making Juno laugh along with her.

“I may not be your therapist, but I do care about you, Juno, and that counts for something,” Buddy replied once her laughter died down.

Juno smiled. “Yeah. Thanks, Buddy.” He laid down, suddenly too exhausted to continue sitting upright.

“Any time dear, now I do believe it’s time you get some rest, hmm?” Buddy suggested, standing from the bed.

Juno nodded, closing his eyes and drifting off, and as Buddy left he fell asleep, staying asleep, peacefully for the first time in a good long while.

#the penumbra podcast #sickfic #Junoverse #juno steel #peter nureyev #rita tpp #buddy aurinko #vespa ilkay #jet siquliak #tpp season 2 spoilers #tpp season 3 #tpp #fanfiction #tpp fanfic

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kingofkingdom-archive · 3 years

Text

Recovery [Ezra (Prospect) x Fem!Reader]

A/N: Hello all! This is my first Pedro Pascal work and the first to be posted here to this blog. If anyone has any requests, don’t hesitate to send them my way! As always, please read the tags/warnings, you are responsible for the media you choose to consume. Also posted to AO3 under the same username (kingofkingdom). I did not use “y/n” or anything similar in this story.

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You were taken from your younger sister, Cee, ten years ago. When you answered a distress call from the Green, you didn’t expect to be reunited with her, and you certainly didn’t expect to meet a man like Ezra.

Warnings: mention of past violence/death, discussion of medical procedure, discussion of disability (amputation/loss of limb), family dynamics, abstract discussion of philosophy, small SW universe cameo :)

Tags: considerable amounts of fluff, size kink, daddy kink, hint of dd/lg, copious use of various pet names, p-in-v sex, some breast play/worship, some dom!ezra & sub!reader

Word count: 9552

You hadn't seen Cee since your mother died.

Her father had taken her and left you in the care of your aunt, a woman you didn't know, a woman who jumped at the chance to send you off to boarding school on the Ephrate the moment you were old enough. Most of your memories consisted of your host family there, with a younger "sister" who reminded you all too much of the one you had lost. In your mind, Cee was still a toddler, all wispy blonde hair and big blue eyes.

Cee's father had never liked you. You were the evidence of his wife's life before him, and you looked too much like your own deceased father for him to have any affection toward you. It didn't surprise you that he left you behind after your mother died, but at ten that didn't make it hurt any less.

Since then, ten years had passed. Now, your aunt was gone, and your studies on the Ephrate completed. You'd taken to a rather nomadic lifestyle, catching rides from planet to station to planet and picking up odd jobs here and there. It wasn't much, but you'd become a strong woman in your time on your own, and thoughts of your half-sister plagued you only some nights now.

Jobs you took ranged from helping the lone-wolf prospector on an excavation to ship repairs at major stations across the system. In one of your darker moments, you'd even carried out a hit against some low-level merc who'd pissed off the wrong people. Those people paid well, enough to fill your stomach for a few days and cover a ride far away from that moon. The right circles knew you could hold your own, and that's what mattered.

This particular station was on the outskirts of the system, a rough-and-tumble place frequented only by prospectors and the people that paid them. You'd taken a shift at the bar here a few weeks ago, and knew the locals pretty well. In a spot like this, people could often get more information at your humble establishment than they could from the officials. You were lying low, and you itched to get moving again, like the nomad you were.

Hence why you kept the radio channels on all the time during your shifts, quiet and unobtrusive where you stood at the bar.

You were thankful, looking back, that it had been a quiet afternoon, and that you'd been so vigilant in keeping track of job openings.

"This is Kilo-Romeo 12, calling from Green sector 608. In need of assistance pronto, rapid extraction A.S.A.P."

The voice is faint, but frantic - a masculine growl laced with an edge of panic. Your radio isn't the best, and you don't recognize the prospector's callsign, but you know he must be in deep shit. A call like this from the Green is a death sentence if someone doesn't act quickly.

As with most of your decisions, you act entirely on impulse. As you hit the button to close up the bar's doors, the radio is already in your hands.

"This is Juno B-390, responding to Kilo-Romeo 12. Do you copy?"

You're down the hall by now, rushing to your quarters to collect your meager belongings. Everything fits in a single pack, and you're just pulling your helmet onto your head when the radio crackles to life again.

"I copy, Juno B-390," the relief is evident in his voice, even through the static. "We need extraction and medical care."

Well, that wasn't in the initial signal. "We? How many are with you? And what kind of medical care are we talkin' here?"

"Just me and one other. Deep trauma to the abdomen, I'm afraid."

You swear under your breath. Nothing you can't handle, but this guy's timer's really running out. You grab the necessary supplies and dash to your small pod racer, which is just big enough with its three seats.

"Hang on, Kilo-Romeo. I'll be there as soon as I'm able. You'll need to direct me to your exact location, is that clear?"

There's a moment of silence before his voice echoes through your racer one last time.

"Clear."

You descend upon the Green as fast as the forces of physics and gravity allow you to. Sector 608, as it says on your map, is a stretch of deep woods and rolling terrain, nearly unexplored save for the last rush. You slow up as you approach, and call out to the prospector over the radio once again.

"Kilo-Romeo 12, this is Juno B-390. I am approaching your location. Do you copy?"

It's quiet. Much too quiet. You slow the racer even more, as your heart begins to race. Just as you begin to worry that you're too late, the radio awakens.

It's not the man, however, whose voice you hear.

"This is Ez-- I mean, this is Kilo-Romeo's... uh... companion. He's gotten worse."

It's a girl. A young teen, from the sound of it. Your heart clenches, thinking of how scared she must be out there.

"Okay, hey there. It's gonna be okay. Can you tell me what landmarks you see? Help me find you."

"Um, yeah. We're in a clearing, there's another ship right nearby. It's not operational, which is wh-- uh, yeah. Clearing, big ship. Also sort of a gulley nearby."

You're about to respond when she speaks again.

"Please, hurry."

"I will, kid. Just keep him alive."

It takes you longer than you would've liked to find this clearing, but once you do you see a scene that brings more questions than answers. Dead bodies litter the field and a half-blown excavation site sits in ruins. Discretion's always been a virtue of yours, though, so you file the information away in your brain and swiftly land your craft. As soon as you exit, you hear the girl's voice not too far away.

"Here! We're over here!"

You grab the field kit and run over to where she stands over a slumped figure. The man you'd spoken to is now unconscious, and not only does he have a nasty looking wound in his chest, he's missing an arm. You look up at the girl. Her brows are furrowed, eyes like steel. You like her already.

"Go to the racer and grab the stretcher that's behind the passenger seat. We'll have to move him onto that and carry him over."

She nods and runs off. Immediately, you turn to the man and take stock of his injuries. The arm has been gone for at least a little while, so that's not of immediate concern. You set to treating the chest wound, making sure to purge it and his suit of dust. Nasty stuff, that which floats around this planet. His filter is as good as gone, so you quickly connect your own.

You drain the wound with the juice the locals here produce, which is generally in stock in the station's field kits. It smells rank, but it works, and the man below you groans. Good, he's still vocal, at least. It doesn't sound like a lung's been punctured. You set up a highly temporary pocket over his wound and torn suit through which you can patch the injury. You take some foaming antiseptic and apply it to the wound before adhering a sticky bio-bandage over the top of it.

It'll do for now. He'll need further treatment at the station, but this should keep him alive, at least.

The girl returns with the stretcher then, and places it next to the man. You glance up at her, and see momentarily a young version of yourself. Eager to help. Eager to make things right.

You shake your head, collecting your thoughts. "Okay, so I'm going to tilt his body towards me, and you slide the stretcher as far as you can under him. Then we'll let him down on top of it and secure him for travel. Can you do that?"

She nods, and you give her a small smile. You hook one arm around the man's waist, the other supporting his neck and shoulder.

"On three, okay? One... two... three!"

Quickly, you roll him up onto his remaining arm as she slides the stretcher under him. As gently as possible, you let him back down, and just like that he's mostly on the stretcher. You set to arranging him properly and tying straps down.

The girl fidgets, and you look up to her.

"Do you know how to stow the back seat in a racer like that?" you ask, and she nods.

"Good, go do it."

She runs off, and is back by the time you've gotten the man secured to the stretcher.

"You take the handles at his feet and I'll take his head. We have to be careful not to tilt him too much, to keep the weight on the stretcher even. Did he suffer any head trauma?"

The girl shakes her head. "No, I don't think so."

You probably should have asked that before moving him onto the stretcher, but then again no one's ever known you for your excellence in trauma care. Your knowledge of first aid comes only from what you've picked up in the field, so sometimes the order of operations gets a bit jumbled.

Whatever. He'll be okay. You can't let yourself think otherwise.

The girl stoops to grab hold of the handles at his feet. You do the same at his head, and again you count backwards from three.

"Up!"

Together you stand, and twin groans echo from both of you. The girl huffs, clearly struggling a bit under the weight.

"Okay, let's go. Slowly, remember."

You walk backwards, feet taking cautious steps so as to keep the same pace as the young girl. Her face is screwed up in focus and concentration, hands in a vice grip on the handles.

"You're doing good, kid. Just a bit further."

Before you know it, you've reached the ship. Carefully, you set the stretcher in the racer, and then the two of you slide it in. There's just barely enough room for it. You quickly secure it, and then close the hatch.

The girl is looking at you, eyes wide and chest heaving. You reach out a gloved hand and set it on her shoulder, giving a firm squeeze.

"He'll be okay. I promise. Now go get in the passenger seat and I'll get us back up to the station."

She nods, and seems to relax a bit at that. You can't help but wonder what she's been through, out here in this rough, unforgiving environment. "Thank you."

You smile, and sincerely hope that this young girl finds a way to leave this life of prospecting behind. You don't know how she got here, but it's no place for someone so young. You know that all too well.

"Let's go, kid."

The trip was pretty quiet save for a single groan from the man in back. The girl glanced back to him when she heard that, and then looked at you, concerned.

"It's okay. He'll be in and out of consciousness until we get to the station. I'll pull up to the emergency med-bay so the doctors can start treating him properly right away."

You look over to her, and she nods.

"Does he have anyone they can contact? Any family?" you ask. "The doctors will need to know."

She shakes her head. "I'm not sure. I don't think so."

You sigh. "Okay. Well, we'll deal with that when we get there."

It's not long after that you arrive at the med-bay. It's a whirlwind of nurses and questions and forms, most of which you have to leave blank, since you don't know the guy and the girl seems not to know much more. She does, however, give you a name.

"His name's Ezra," she offers, when she sees you pause at the line on the top of the screen.

You look over at her. "Ezra? Spelled E-Z-R-A?"

She nods. "Never told me a last name though."

"That's alright. A first name's enough."

She sits next to you and helps where she can as you fill out the form. Once you're done, you go up to hand the tablet back to the receptionist. You then sit back down next to her, crossing your arms over your flight suit. The girl's fiddling with her fingers, bag tucked between her feet.

"Do you think we'll be able to see him when they're done?" she asks, clearly trying not to sound as worried as she is.

You shrug. "Probably. It might be a while, though. Do you want something to eat while we wait?"

She nods, and when you look over at her, she's smiling.

As it turns out, it does take a pretty long time for them to complete the operation. It feels like hours that you two are sitting there. You watch the people come and go from the waiting room while the girl writes in some notebook, headphones secure over her ears, absently eating a chocolate bar.

She can't be more than 13 or 14. You think back to when you were that age - in the middle of your time at the Ephrate, moody and angsty like all young teens. It makes you think of Cee. She'd be about that age by now. You look over to the girl sitting next to you, wondering what ever became of your sister. Maybe she's at the Ephrate by now, or perhaps her father has taken her to some peaceful planet with beaches and a nice home, a few pets running around.

Hopefully a better life than the one you've led. Somewhere far from thrower blasts and gemstones.

This girl seems nice enough, and you're sure she's seen her fair share of shit. It's clear this guy's not only not her father, but that they haven't known each other long at all. You can't help but wonder how they ended up traveling together.

Images of the clearing littered with bodies flashes in your mind. Something went down there, and it clearly got ugly fast. It's amazing that the girl emerged relatively unscathed. You've seen a fair share of shootouts and fights, and never did you escape completely uninjured. It takes cleverness and a strong sense of self-preservation, the latter of which you don't often have.

You're ruminating on the mystery sitting next to you when the doors to the operating rooms swing open. A nurse steps out and looks at both of you. You stand, and she follows suit.

"He's awake, and asking for you," the nurse says. You nudge the girl slightly with your elbow.

"Go on, go see hi--"

The nurse cuts in. "He's asking for both of you."

Oh. You're surprised. He doesn't even know you, so there's no reason he should be asking to see you. Despite your confusion, you follow behind the girl as she follows the nurse to his room.

The hallways are sterile and white, cleaner than anything you've seen in months. The doorway is the last on the right, and inside is a single bed, with a small window looking out to the stars.

The young girl enters first as the nurse stands to the side, and you hover in the doorway to watch, still not quite feeling entirely welcome. You can just see the man's - Ezra's - hair behind the girl, with an unusual shock of blonde in otherwise dark brown curls.

"I was wondering where you went, birdie. One minute I was on the ground and next thing I know I'm sitting here like a babe in a bassinet, right as rain," he says, voice melodic with an accent you can't quite place.

"Do you feel better, Ezra?" the girl asks, voice wavering just slightly.

"I do. Are you faring alright yourself?"

She nods, and crosses her arms. Silence fills the room for a moment, then Ezra speaks again.

"Who was so kind as to bring us here, birdie?" he asks. The girl turns to you and steps aside so Ezra can see you.

"She did," she replies, a soft look on her face.

You step forward and look at Ezra properly for the first time. You hadn't really paid much attention to his facial features back on the Green, so concerned as you were with getting him out of there.

His dark brown eyes are kind, and his lips tease at a smile. He's got stubble growing on his chin and a mustache on his lip. There's a thin white line in the shape of a crescent underneath his left eye, the silvery remnant of a deep cut sustained long ago. He's older than you, maybe 40 or so. For some reason, you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach, but you're quick to snuff those out best you can. Mirroring the girl, you cross your arms, and flip your braid over your shoulder.

"Yeah, that would be me," you say, as nonchalantly as you can manage.

"I recognize that voice from the radio," he notes, looking at you intently. "I can't hardly give you enough thanks for getting the two of us out of that... sticky situation. You really are somethin' else, sugar."

You shrug, unused to such praise, such immediate kindness. You feel your face heat up with a blush, and you clear your throat.

"Well, it sure sounded like you were in need of some help. I'm happy to see you're doing better."

Your voice is softer than you intend. Spending even three minutes with this guy seems to have thrown you off balance. You haven't met anyone that talks like him since you were in school, and it's like a breath of fresh air.

His face turns serious at your words. Ezra's gaze is as intense as it is gentle, burning into your own.

"Oh, much better," he assures you, giving you a look you can't quite decipher. A smile quickly returns to his features. "It's a shame they couldn't get my arm to grow back."

You laugh a little at that, happy to see that he's in good spirits. The nurse steps forward then, tablet in hand. The three of you turn to her.

"Ezra will likely be discharged tomorrow morning, given how much progress he's made just today. He will need somewhere to rest, however, for the next week or so. We can help to make boarding arrangeme--"

"No," you interrupt, surprising even yourself. "No, he can stay with me. I have quarters in the 4th wing." You turn to the girl. "You can stay with me too, if you'd like." You don't know what's come over yourself, but you find yourself drawn to this unlikely pair.

The girl nods once, just as Ezra speaks up. "You're too kind, sugar. Your hospitality and generosity are appreciated beyond measure. Do let us know if there's any way at all we can show our gratitude."

You shake your head immediately, waving a hand as if to wave away the notion.

"No need for that. Consider it a celebratory gift for parting with the Green."

Everyone laughs at that - even the nurse, who hides her grin behind her tablet.

The next morning, you and the girl - whose name you still don't know, and who still does not know yours - visit the med-bay first thing after breakfast. Your quarters are small, enough to fit two comfortably and three at most. The girl has decided to take the sofa, since Ezra will need to rest, and a bed is most ideal for that. It seems you both tend to rise early, so you gave her some oatmeal and a cup of coffee. She took both without hesitation, and it warmed your heart to see her eat after however long she and Ezra had been out there.

When you two arrive, Ezra is waiting in his room, dressed in clean loungewear with a bag on his lap. He is seated in a wheelchair. You and the girl greet him, happy to see that he is rested and ready to leave.

"I told the kind folks that I am more than able to walk unaided," he comments when you begin to push the chair from behind. "They insisted, however, and I am not one to ignore the advice and orders of my physicians."

You see the girl try to hide a smile. It seems as though he's grown on her, and she struggles to admit that to herself. Before you can think better of it, you give Ezra a pat on the right shoulder, a small attempt at reassurance.

"You'll be walking in no time, I'm sure," you reply.

You feel his left hand cover your own, and you nearly stumble as you push him along through the hallway. His palm is rough and callused, a signature trait of most prospectors. It's large, too, covering your own entirely. Its warmth soaks through the back of your hand and into your stomach.

"With kindness as bright as yours to guide me, that will certainly be the case."

You don't know what to say to that, so you give his shoulder a squeeze and retract your hand.

The 4th wing is not too far from the med-bay; the station itself is smaller than most, so the distance is blessedly short. Ezra does most of the talking while the three of you walk.

"It would suit me just perfectly to never see that god-forsaken moon again so long as I live," he comments just as you reach the door to your quarters. You scan your ID card and the panel slides open, revealing a small but comfortable dwelling. "Forget the gems, forget the money. Prospecting is surely the most foolish endeavor of them all."

"The lust for wealth is stronger than the fear of death," you reply, almost without thinking.

Ezra looks up at you, smiling, a curious look on his face. "Asmolea. Ruminations, chapter seven. Color me impressed, sugar."

You look back, equally surprised. "You recognize that quote?"

"Why, yes, in fact, I do," he responds, and you notice the girl watching the two of you out of the corner of your eye. "I was an admirer of the great thinkers, long ago. When I was younger, and more -- well, more curious about such things, I suppose."

You wheel him into the small sitting area, arranged around a holo-screen. The walls are bare, lack of personality belying a short-lived residence here. You engage the wheelchair's brakes and take a seat yourself, across from him on an armchair. The girl sits on the sofa, where she slept last night.

"Philosophy is the sustenance of the mind," he continues, kicking his feet up to rest on the coffee table. He winces slightly at the motion, but keeps speaking nevertheless. "Without it, we decay. We risk succumbing to trivial errors of man. It is the sharpening stone to the blade of our intellect."

"What about literature?" the girl asks, her eyes firey and brow set. "I think that's much more valuable than what some ancient guy thought about a world we don't even know anymore."

You smile, pleased at this contribution. "I think great literature can convey philosophical ideas in the form of a modern narrative. You just have to keep an eye out for it, and understand its relevance to the story."

Ezra nods along. "I agree. Where did you read Asmolea, sugar?"

"At the Ephrate," you reply, and you see the girl perk up. You smile at her, hoping the two of you will have a chance to discuss that later. She seems entirely intrigued by you now. "I studied there for seven years, until I was eighteen."

"Why did you leave?" the girl asks.

You sigh, and bring your foot up to rest on the chair, so your thigh is pressed against your front. "Life there didn't suit me. I'm much happier on my own, not surrounded by stuffy academics and pretentious businessmen. The only ones I could stand there were the monks."

Ezra laughs at that. "The Neo-Carthusians?"

You nod, grinning. "Yeah. Considered joining, for about a month or so. I admire their lives of solitude and contemplation, but I couldn't imagine staying in one place for so long."

The conversation flows between the three of you so naturally you hardly notice the time flying by. They ask questions about you, and you return the favor by inquiring about their lives. The girl is quiet when it comes to her past, but you find out her father died on the Green. Both she and Ezra are hesitant to talk about it, which tells you all that you need to know.

Night falls quickly, or at least night according to standard time - on the station, there is no night or day, just a constant darkness visible out the windows interrupted by pinpricks of light. Everyone follows the standard clock, which runs according to time on the Ephrate.

You show Ezra to his room after the three of you have eaten dinner. It's a small space, just enough for a bed and a dresser. Carefully, he stands from the wheelchair, tosses his bag on the bed, and turns to look at you.

He's much taller than you are. The butterflies return as you look up at him, and a warm feeling radiates through the area below your stomach.

"Thank you again for the hospitality, sugar," he murmurs, voice low and deep. He moves the wheelchair out from between you, so there's nothing but air separating the two of you. "As I said, don't hesitate to ask if there is anything I can do to repay you. Anything at all."

You nod, at a loss for words. His hand comes up and gently brushes a loose strand of hair away from your face and tucks it behind your ear. You positively melt. This man is going to be the death of you.

"I'm just glad to see you safe, Ezra," you reply, and your eyes flutter at the way his fingers linger over the apple of your cheek. His lips look so soft, his eyes full of promises he intends to keep. You can feel yourself falling, as if in a dream.

You blink and lean back, away from him. This is a bad idea. For what reason, you can't say, but you dart to your room as soon as you begin to doubt yourself.

You shut the door and lean against it. There's no way, your mind whispers to you. He feels indebted. That's the only reason. You're too young, he just sees you as a kid.

In your haste, you didn't see the look in his eyes as you left so suddenly, or the way he stared at the door long after you shut it.

In the night, you dream of him. Dark eyes above you, heavenly, filthy moans filling the air around you, something thick and perfect filling the empty space inside you. His musical voice murmurs sweet words in your ear, and you hear the sound of your passion just as much as you feel it. Your hands grip his hair as he thrusts, your body trembling underneath him.

Your peak startles you awake, and you find your bedsheets soaked with the evidence of your fantasy.

Your bedside clock tells you it is the early hours of the morning. With a sigh, you toss back the blankets and emerge from your room quietly.

After a quick shower in the refresher, you step out and wrap a towel around yourself. You stare into the mirror, thinking about him.

You've never felt such an instant attraction to anyone before in your life. Sure, his looks contribute quite a bit, but it's much more than that. You and he seem to have a similar intellect, his passion and aptitude for prose matching your own knowledge and understanding of philosophy and the humanities. The girl is also equally respected by him as she is by you, and you both share a common want to see her thrive. You've known them both barely a day and a half, but they already feel more like family than anyone you've ever known.

You wonder if you're imagining his affections toward you. That could just be him, his way of communicating. You desperately hope it's more than that, but you also can't get your hopes up because of a silly dream.

A silly, beautiful dream.

Water drips from your hair, down your chest, and into the towel. As you begin to shiver, you decide to return to bed and try again for some uninterrupted sleep. You'll have to change the sheets, unfortunately, but that shouldn't take more than a few minutes.

You open the door and tiptoe back out into the hallway, quiet as a mouse. Just as you're about to sneak back into your room, towel clutched tightly in your fingers, you're startled by the door opposite your own sliding open.

And there he is. Dressed in little more than a pair of grey shorts, hair tousled and eyes weary with sleep.

He blinks a few times, and then his eyes widen, suddenly much more awake. You see him glance down, and his mouth parts ever so slightly before his gaze returns to your face.

You are frozen in place. Somewhere in your mind, you will your feet to dart away again, but the remnants of your dream still echo in your muscles, preventing you from leaving. Your hands tighten on your towel and despite yourself, you make note of his chest, his abdomen - the wound, which is an angry red line, held together with clear stitching, and which makes your heart clench at the thought of what would've happened had you not arrived - and finally, a rapid glance at his shorts, his thighs, before you find your sense and look back up at his face.

There's that intensity again, with considerably less gentleness. You inhale sharply, and spare a glance towards the sitting area, where the girl sleeps.

"She's quite the light sleeper, I'm afraid. I'd be mightily surprised if she didn't already hear --"

His voice is low, nearly inaudible to your ears as you look back at him. The tone of it causes the insides of your thighs to tremble, and your chest to heave with silent breaths. Ezra cuts himself off, clearly not having meant to say as much as he did.

Maybe it's the early hour that makes the words escape your lips with ease. Maybe it's the dream, the visions of which you can still see in your mind's eye as you look at him. Perhaps there's just something about Ezra that makes you bold, standing there with nothing more than thin terrycloth protecting your modesty.

"Hear what, Ezra?" you whisper, and set your jaw when his eyes widen ever so slightly.

Ezra reaches out, and his hand comes up to grip the back of your neck. His thumb strokes your jawline, behind your ear, and he steps forward. He's so close that you can feel the heat from his body on your own.

His lips press softly against your forehead, a surprisingly intimate gesture that makes you shiver. The hand that isn't clutching your towel moves to rest on his waist, golden skin warm under your cold fingers.

"Hear this, sweet thing," he murmurs against your skin, lips still pressed against you. "How strongly I feel for you. How deeply I know that it was divine providence that brought you to me. The ways I want to repay you for saving my life.”

His words are like molten gold, shimmering and hot as they slip over your skin and into your heart. You shiver, and your fingers curl gently into his side.

”I don’t - I don’t want you to feel obligated to... to do anything. With me. For me,” you whisper back, eyes closed, basking in the feeling of this quiet moment.

Ezra hums in dissent against your worries. “No... no...” he says, as his fingers slowly thread their way into your hair. “It isn't like that —“

He’s interrupted by a shuffling sound from the sitting room. You both freeze, wide-eyed, and look toward the room where the girl sleeps.

A moment passes, and then two. Enough that you know she is still asleep and there isn’t any risk of her finding you two like this.

It‘s like ice water thrown over you, the reminder of where and who you are. You look back up to Ezra, whose eyes are soft and knowing as they stare at you. His hand gently caresses the back of your neck, and then he brings it back to rest at his side.

"Go to bed, sweetheart," he murmurs, and then steps around you. He enters the refresher without another word.

You do as he says, but you find yourself struggling to fall back asleep once you return to clean, cool sheets. You watch the stars inch past outside your window as your mind races at the memory of his lips.

The next morning, you wake to sounds of movement coming from outside your door. For a moment you panic, before you remember your two visitors. And then you remember your encounter with one of those visitors last night, and the hushed words exchanged between you and him.

Beside you, the clock reads barely past 06:00, which is usually the time you wake up anyway. Today you have another shift at the bar, assuming you still have a job there after you ditched it the other day. With a groan, you pull yourself out from under the warm, soft covers and dress yourself.

The noise becomes more decipherable as you make your way down the hallway. Ezra and the girl are making small talk while something sizzles. You turn the corner and see Ezra standing at the stove with the girl sitting at the counter, the pleasing aromatic smell of pork bacon wafting through the air. You lean against the wall and watch the pair with a small smile, happy to see someone making use of a space normally reserved for microwave rations and alcohol snuck from the bar.

No one's ever accused you of being a particularly good bartender, that's for sure.

Ezra turns to look at you when he hears your footsteps, a bright smile lighting up his face.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he teases, and pushes the bacon around with a spatula. "I cannot emphasize enough how divine it was to wake up with a soft cushion beneath me rather than dirt. I could much too easily let myself get used to this, and I think Cee here agrees with me on that account. Don't you, birdie?"

The girl nods, but you don't notice it. The color has drained from your face and you feel a frantic, sinking feeling in your chest.

"What did you say?" you ask, pushing yourself off the wall and looking at Ezra with wide eyes.

He looks back, brow furrowed, confused. "I believe I said that I could get used to this...?"

You turn away from him and look at the girl. She's looking at you too, now, concern evident in her eyes.

"What did he say your name is?"

She blinks. "My name's Cee."

Your hand flies up to your mouth, and you feel tears gather at the corners of your eyes. It can't be. But she's the right age, and her hair's the same, and...

"What was your father's name?"

She looks even more confused now. "Um, it was Damon."

Oh my god. "Oh my god. You're Cee."

The two of them stare at you like you've grown a second head. You laugh, realizing how foolish you look.

And then you give her your name.

Cee's eyes light up like nothing you've ever seen before, and she nearly launches herself off of the counter stool to wrap you in the tightest hug you've ever been given. You laugh again, a loud and boisterous thing, as happy tears spring unbidden and flow onto your cheeks. Her hands grip the back of your shirt as you hold her head to your chest with both hands.

"I never thought I'd see you again," you mutter through the tears, pressing your nose against her hair. It's her. It's really her. Suddenly you think Ezra was right about divine providence, that the three of you were meant to find each other, the event arranged by some mighty cosmic force.

"Dad told me you were dead," she cries, as the two of you collapse to the floor. Propriety suddenly no longer concerns you, not now that you're cradling your long-lost little sister.

"I'm so sorry, Cee. I'm so sorry."

You can't say much more than that. There are simultaneously too many and not enough things to say to the last family you have left in the universe, to this girl who was so much like you even in the first moments of knowing one another.

Above you, Ezra clears his throat.

"While this is clearly an unexpected but happy reunion that I hate to interrupt, I do have to ask how you girls know one another, so that I might not be kept in the dark about your relation?"

You look up at him as you move backwards to rest your shoulders against the wall. His dark eyes look down at you from above, and though you've never felt so small, you've also never felt happier in your life.

"She's my sister," you answer with a smile. "Same mother, different father. We were separated when our mother died. She was hardly more than a baby."

Ezra's eyes grow soft at that, and he nods. You begin to think that maybe now you both have something to thank the other for. You may have saved his life, but his radio transmission brought you Cee.

You tighten your arms around her, and place a kiss on the crown of her head. You aren't sure how long you sit there - long enough to have surely lost your job when you don't show up for your shift, but you can't find it within yourself to care. This is all that matters to you right now.

The day passes with you and Cee doing most of the talking, for once. Ezra seems content to just sit and listen, though you catch him a few times looking at you like he did in the darkened hallway last night.

After lunch, he makes a point to sit next to you on the couch, arm draped across the cushions behind you.

If Cee notices, she doesn't say anything. You still aren't sure where your relationship with Ezra stands, but in the midst of sharing stories with Cee and learning about her life, you don't find time to sort that out.

Dinner comes and goes again, and the topic of the future comes up.

"When do you think you'll be healed enough to travel again, Ezra?" you ask, as the three of you work on cleaning the dishes.

He shrugs. "I'm fit to travel right now," he answers, and you give him a look. No, he isn't. He chuckles. "Alright, sugar. Maybe another day or so. The serum they gave me to apply daily has been working wonders, I must admit."

You nod, and look over at Cee. "Where do you want to go? The Ephrate? I have no doubt you could get into the school there."

She perks up at that. "You think so? Would you bring me?"

"Why not? I'm a traveler anyway, and I think it's high time I got out of this station. Ezra?" You look over to him, but he's already looking at you.

You feel his hand ghost over the small of your back. "I would be most honored to accompany you both to the Ephrate, if you'll have me."

"Yes, of course," you reply, leaning into his touch, and you turn back to the task at hand.

Later on, when Cee is in bed listening to her music, and Ezra's in his room, you sit on your bed thinking about what's to come. In order to apply to the school, Cee will need a guardian contact, and a record of education. You hope she can pass the entrance exam and submit a writing sample, and that that will be enough. Maybe you can talk some of your former professors into considering her.

It’s a pretty long trip from the station to the Ephrate, even with a ship that can travel at hyper speed. You can’t help but wonder what will become of Ezra after you get Cee set up in school.

The man captivates you, to put it plainly. His poetic manner of speaking and the gentle fire of his passion, when directed at you, gives you a feeling unlike any other you’ve experienced before. You’ve met plenty of men in your life. None have ever made you feel such a way.

Before you can think better of it, while the desire to see his sleep-ruffled hair still sits at the forefront of your mind, you get out of bed and leave your room. Quietly, so as to not disturb Cee, you knock on his door.

”Come in!” he calls out from somewhere within.

You slide the door open, slip inside, and close the door behind you. Ezra is sitting up in bed, looking at you.

”To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing such a beautiful woman enter my chamber in the night?” The question is teasing, good-natured, but the compliment still makes your stomach swoop.

You smile, and walk to where he lies in bed, leaning against the dresses. “I wanted to thank you, Ezra. You brought my sister back to me, which is something I’ll never be able to repay you for. Can we call it even?”

He laughs at that. “Sure we can, sweet thing. You know, when I first saw you in that recovery room, I thought I recognized you from somewhere, and that my brain had done me the disservice of erasing all memory of you. I now realize it was because you and Cee are so much alike. I haven’t known her for much longer than I’ve known you, and it remains a miracle that she has given me even a modicum of trust, but I see the relation between you clear as a bell now.”

You have to smile at that. It warms your heart to know you didn’t imagine it, that someone else noticed it too.

Ezra reaches out then, in the dim light, and you step forward. Thinking he's reaching for your hand, you extend yours - but he bypasses it completely and wraps his hand around the back of your upper thigh, thumb brushing against your sleep shorts. A giggle escapes your lips as he pulls you in even closer to him. Ezra leans forward and presses his face against your midsection, nose just next to your belly button.

Confused, but certainly pleasantly surprised, you place your hands on his head and thread your fingers through his dark curls. Gently you massage his scalp, not quite understanding this sudden show of affection. It's different than last night, though you can't exactly express how.

You decide you're really enjoying seeing these different sides of Ezra when the two of you are alone.

When you happen to massage a certain spot right behind his ear, Ezra groans, a low sound that ripples through your bones. His grip tightens, and you feel his next words more than you hear them.

"Come here, little one," he murmurs into your stomach, nosing at the hem of your shirt. The pet name makes you clench, desire flooding through your center.

He pulls you closer, shifting his face away so he can guide you down onto the bed. You swing one leg over his waist just as he slides his hand up to grip your ass, turning you further so you're on your back next to him. He's on his side, propped up by his elbow, leaning over you.

You're breathless, staring up into those infinite brown eyes.

"You have consumed my every waking thought since the moment I first saw you" he says softly, his voice a low purr that awakens some unknown part of yourself. You turn into him, resting a hand on his side, and he presses his nose against your cheek.

"I must have been a saint in a previous life to have earned this sweet embrace," he continues, breath warm against your face. "I want to learn you, to study you with the same vigor the ancients studied and examined the mind. I want to know you, sweet girl, in every way possible.

"But I must be truthful with you, because I could no longer live with myself if I were not. I am not a good man. I have lived a long life of violence and amorality, and death and deceit seem to follow me hand-in-hand. You are so young, little one, full of life and vitality, future bright ahead of you. I do not deserve you, and you certainly deserve better than me."

His words are like needles piercing your heart. You slide your hand up his chest to cup his face, tenderly stroking his cheekbone. You draw him away ever so slightly so you can look him in the eye.

"You and I are not so different, Ezra," you hum, making sure that he keeps the eye contact. "I have been on that same path, of death and violence, for years. I've lived for none but myself."

You slide your thumb across his lower lip, soft and pink and tempting.

"Let me live for you."

You punctuate your whispered plea by drawing him back down and pressing your lips to his. He gasps into the kiss before returning it with passion amplified twofold. His leg slides over your midsection to stabilize himself, knees pushing in between your own so your thighs stretch open around his.

Ezra deepens the kiss almost immediately. You surrender to his lips, one hand gripping his shoulder while the other tangles again in his hair. His mouth is hot, tasting faintly of mint but mostly a sweet flavor you attribute only to him. You let out a soft moan at the feeling building in your cunt, wet and warm and yearning for him, and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Ezra licks at your teeth, seemingly in an attempt to map out every part of you that he can.

All you're able to do is moan, melting into him like a candle to a flame.

You feel Ezra shift a little, followed by profanity muttered softly against your lips. He draws away, and you open your eyes to see him clenching his jaw.

"'M still not fully adjusted to not having a kriffing arm," he grumbles, frustration evident in his eyes. You hum, hurting for him, wanting to take his pain away.

"What do you need, Ezra?" you ask. "What can I do?"

He presses his forehead against yours and sighs. "I want to see you, sweet thing. I want to touch you."

You flush, understanding the meaning of his words and feeling your panties grow wetter at the implication.

"Yes," you breathe. "Yes." You push at his shoulders, urging him to sit back. He does so, sitting back. You rearrange your legs so that yours rest outside of his, and sit up. Your thighs are tucked against his hips in a position that feels much closer than before - you can just barely feel the heat of his groin against your own. A breath stumbles its way out of your lungs, chest heaving.

Before you can think any further on your insecurities, you grasp the hem of your shirt and draw it up and over your head. Ezra's eyes light up, glance at your face, darken considerably as he looks down again, and then he's on you once more.

His arm wraps around you tightly, hand pressing firmly into your ribs, and it's then that you really take in the size difference between you and him. As his head dips to press his lips against your breasts and nipples, you can't help but shudder at the way his body curls over your own. You feel distinctly small, in a way that would usually frighten you but instead makes you shiver.

This position is clearly more comfortable for Ezra, because he becomes more vocal as he lavishes your tits with attention.

"Gods, little one," he murmurs against the top of one of your breasts, tongue darting out to taste your peaked bud, "your body is divine, the sweetest fruit in the universe." He pauses to suck at your nipple, drawing it into his mouth, and the sight of it forces a whine from your throat. Something about it is so perfect, so perverse, for a man who's always been so sweet, that you can't help but press your clothed cunt down on his cock, the shape of which you can feel burning and hard like an iron through your clothes.

Ezra lets out a choked growl at that, a deep rumbling sound that you immediately commit to memory, in case of the unfortunate event that you're not blessed to ever hear it again. He releases your teat, now spit-soaked and throbbing, and looks at you with eyes so dark you hardly recognize them. His brows are drawn together, teeth bared like a feral animal.

"That's what you do to me," he growls, moving his hand down to cup your ass, squeezing harshly. You gasp, and press into him, bare chest to bare chest. "Feel my dick against your little pussy, baby? Think it can fit?"

You nod frantically, knowing your shorts are soaked through, as his filthy words send your mind reeling. You're not capable of thoughts beyond him and this any longer.

Ezra uses his grip on your ass to press your cunt against him once more, and he rolls his hips up into you in a mimicry of what he'd like to do you. You moan, completely unashamed, and drop your head to tuck your face against his shoulder.

"Please," you whine, nearly unaware of the words coming out of your mouth. It's quiet, hushed, this next utterance, and it's passed through your lips before you can think twice about it.

"Please fuck me, daddy."

Ezra freezes. It takes you a moment too long to realize what you've said.

"What did you say?" Ezra asks, the words rumbling from somewhere in his chest.

You get a frantic feeling in your limbs, panic crawling up your throat. Great, you think, I've messed it all up. He probably thinks I'm some freak, screwed up in the head.

You're broken from your spiraling thoughts by the feeling of his lips on your neck, teeth digging into the space beneath your jawline.

"I asked you a question, sweet girl."

You tremble in his grasp. He's not going to let it go. "Daddy..." you whimper, and he groans.

"You really are a perfect little girl for me," he mutters as his hand slides around from your ass to the front of your shorts. You tighten your grip on the back of his neck and lean forward, thinking he intends to pull your remaining clothes down your legs.

Instead, he clenches his fist and tears them, both your shorts and your panties, from your pussy. You yelp as he does so, and watch as the fabric goes flying somewhere off to the side.

"There you are, sweet thing," he murmurs, leaning back to look at you, hand back in position on your bare ass. "Look at you. Filthy and perfect for daddy, aren't you? A fantasy come to life, placed in my lap by the gods themselves."

You moan once more, pressing your bare cunt against the outline of his cock in his thin sleep pants. He reaches down to pull it free, and as you keep your balance against him, you look down and see perhaps the biggest dick you've ever laid eyes on. Ezra chuckles, watching your reaction.

"You ready, baby? Want me to fill you up, fuck you like you need?"

You nod, and lean in to press your face against the crook of his neck again. "Please," you whine. "I need your big cock in my pussy."

The words are completely unlike you - something about Ezra has awoken a completely submissive, unfiltered side of yourself you didn't know existed before. Sure, you knew you wanted him, and weren't a stranger to sex, but this is an entirely new personality, focused entirely on being his. It's almost like a dream, and for a moment you feel as though you're floating, with how relaxed you are in anticipation for --

Oh.

He's guided the head of his cock to your entrance, and is using his leverage on your ass to guide you slowly, slowly down. You gasp - he's certainly the biggest you've ever had, and the stretch is delicious. Ezra's restraining himself, going slow so he doesn't hurt you, but you have no such qualms.

You drop down in one fell swoop, and the way he fills you makes your eyes roll back in your head. His hand moves from your ass to around your waist, nearly encircling it entirely. He groans, loudly and deeply.

"You'll kill me like this, little one. You're just wrapped around my cock, aren't you? Desperate for it?"

You nod frantically. "Yes, daddy. Yes!"

Ezra moans at that. His hand grips your waist, teeth biting and sucking at your neck, as you push up on your thighs to lift off of him. The drag of his dick against the walls of your cunt is incredible, the head of it catching and pushing on hidden, sensitive ridges within you.

You drop down again, and begin to fuck yourself on Ezra's cock.

His hips piston up as you do so, finding and matching your rhythm with ease. His melodic voice mutters the dirtiest things you've ever heard as he slams his hips up into you.

"...That's it, sweet thing. You were made to fit on my cock, weren't you?..."

"...Wanted to do this that night in the hallway, take you right up against the wall..."

"...My strong, sweet girl, bouncing like a whore on daddy’s cock -- gods, look at your tits..."

You feel your climax building, rising like a fire about to consume you from the inside out. Ezra is close, too, from the way his hips stutter and his breathing becomes ragged.

"Sweet thing..." he groans, slowing his thrusts. "I can't... inside you..."

You shake your head. You know he's clean, since he was tested at the med-bay when he went in for the operation. And besides...

"I've got the implant, daddy. Come in me, please."

Ezra finishes with the most beautiful moan you've ever heard, and you come nearly at the same moment. It's an ethereal, heavenly experience, like the two of you have ascended and joined the gods who so graciously brought you together.

You fall asleep tucked into his chest, warm under his blanket, with the smell of him and you and both of you lulling you into the most peaceful sleep you've had in your life.

A month later, you and Ezra and Cee sit at a mahogany wood table, filling out a holo-tablet with the form for Cee's entrance into your alma mater on the Ephrate. Your sister is already taken with the place, and you couldn't be happier for her.

"Now it wants me to put in a parent or guardian's name," she says, stylus hovering over that section. The cursor blinks as it waits.

You're about to tell her to skip it, but Ezra speaks up before you can.

"Put my name down," he offers, and she looks over at him. "Is that okay with you?"

Cee nods, a genuine smile brightening her features. She turns back to the screen with haste.

"Ezra Stallard," he adds simply.

You look over to him, pleased with this revelation.

As you watch Cee enter Ezra's full name into the blank and select Guardian, you get a chill up your spine. Despite yourself, you think back to that night, and you know Ezra's thinking the same when his hand moves over to rest on your thigh.

You can't wait to have your ship to yourselves; the joy of seeing your sister thrive in a new setting is followed only by the anticipation of what is to come. You and Ezra have made no plans for the future yet - all you know is that he will be with you, and that's the only guarantee you need.

For the first time in a very long time, your heart sings.

#ezra x you #ezra (prospect)#ezra prospect #ezra x reader #ezra x female reader #prospect #prospect fanfiction #prospect (2018)#ezra x reader smut #pedrp pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #ezra fic #ezra prospect x reader #canon compliant #wrote this while listening exclusively to grimes #take that as you will

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matbenetti17 · 3 years

Photo

To celebrate the alliance between the Harpy Village and the Emperor's Coven Juno, the head of the Harpy Council, has organized a party. And she decided to make Tempest and some other girls sing for the occasion, this is what happened soon after their show.

Hunter: So you came! I thought you said you'd never dance with someone like me.

Tempest: Now don't flatter yourself. I only came to sing for your uncle, certainly not to dance with you. Now shut it, he's watching here-

Hunter: he makes her do a twirl

Tempest: Since when do you dance anyway~?

Hunter: Necessity. Don't get strange ideas. another twirl And since when do you sing that dull and choirs stuff? You never seemed like the type

Tempest: There are so many things you don't know about me~ chuckles No anyway, if it was up to me I wouldn't even come to this party...

Hunter: For that matter neither would I.

Tempest: ...I did it more for my mother, and the others of the village were counting on me to be here

Hunter: looks down Yeah...

Tempest: she looks at him for a moment, worried Did your uncle do something to you..?

Hunter: he lets her go WHAT?! How dare you?! gets away from the middle of the dance floor

Tempest: Hunter wait! she follows him, raising the hem of her dress to not stumble on it

Hunter: is about to go down the steps but catches eyes with Belos and pulls his ears back

Tempest: H-Hunter-!

Hunter: he clenches his fists, turns around taking Tempest's hand and dragging her back to the center Come on, let's get over this quickly.

Tempest: looks down O-okay... they both remain silent dancing for a few moments then she looks at him I-I'm sorry for before! I didn't mean to insinuate anything-!

Hunter: Forget it.

Tempest: No now listen to me! I don't know exactly how things are between you and the Emperor, and I don't even want to get you to talk about it, I'm not intrusive like- she widens her and looks down Someone... I know... she clears her throat What I want to say is that: if you have any problem with him you can tell me, I've confided with you about my father, it wouldn't be fair if I were the only one of us to always vent...

Hunter: he remains silent thinking about it for a moment, also turning a glance at Belos and then whispering Maybe at another time.

Tempest: she looks at him in surprise and smiles

Hunter: after a while he gets close and whispers in her ear Temp, who are those two who keep point at us and laugh?

Tempest: Uh? Who? she turns and blushes when she sees them

Apollinea and Artemis: both wave at them Yuhuh~

Tempest: turns at him O-oh those~? Those are just my aunts Apollinea and Artemis~ Leave them be, they're a bit airheaded~ she giggles nervously, then waves the two off and whispers at them Cut it out!

Hunter: They embarrass you... I like them~

Tempest: Hey!

Hunter: chuckles

Tempest: she glares at him and stamps his foot

Hunter: is about to scream in pain but bites his lip

Tempest: That'll teach you u.u gets off the floor as soon as the song ends

Hunter: watches her go You little-

soon after

Hunter: approaches Tempest The one who's dancing with the ambassador is..?

Tempest: That's Lamia, my other mom, I told you about her right? she smiles sweetly looking at them They are so beautiful together~

Hunter: ...A-anyway, you too- You're not... that bad, today.

Tempest: looks at him amused Was that a compliment~?

Hunter: Now you're the one who's flattering herself! he looks the other way embarrassed I-I was just trying to be polite-!

Tempest: nudges him Relax for once, now the Emperor is not around to tell you how to behave~ And by the way, for what it's worth... she comes over and fixes the Coven crest pinned on his sash ...You too look very elegant tonight she smiles at him

Hunter: Uhh... Thanks?

Tempest: holds back a chuckle You're not used to compliments, are you~?

Hunter: 'Cause you do? e.e

Tempest: Of course~ she turns around slapping him with her hair

Hunter: H-hey!

Tempest: Modestly I'm pretty popular~

Hunter: rolls his eyes

Tempest: Just yesterday I was talking about it with a schoolmate of mine- she widens her eyes seeing Apollinea and Artemis approaching them Oh Titan not them again! looks around, takes Hunter by the wrist, and drags him away

Hunter: What are you doing??

Tempest: Shut up and walk!

Hunter: I can't get away from the Emperor-! Tempest!

Tempest: she drags him to a secluded corner of the village, not far from the party and checks that no one arrives

Hunter: May I know what's got to you-?!

Tempest: Shh! without thinking she puts a hand over his mouth Those two nosy aunts of mine were aiming at us, I couldn't let them stop us! They would have bombarded us with embarrassing questions- she widens her eyes and pulls her hand away YOU LICKED IT! WHAT PROBLEMS DO YOU HAVE??! she wipes her hand on the hem of his jacket

Hunter: Hey what are you doing?! This is my good suit!

Tempest: The spit is yours and you keep it!

Hunter: hears someone coming Shh!

Tempest: whispers Is it them?

Hunter: I don't know.

Apollinea: I can no longer see them Artemis! Who knows where they ended up!

Artemis: C'mon, let's leave them alone, they'll have other things to do~ giggles

Apollinea: Yeah~ she makes kisses sound with her mouth and giggles Let's go see Hecate~ goes away taking her arm

Hunter: he blushes as he hears Apollinea

Tempest: whispers What are they saying?

Hunter: N-nothing, forget it... They are gone

Tempest: she sighs of relief sitting on the ground Oh thank the Titan~

Hunter: Tempest?

Tempest: Mh?

Hunter: What did you mean before? I mean, what questions would those two ask us?

Tempest: blushes violently Er... Oh look what a beautiful moon there is today~

Hunter: Temp...

Tempest: gets up No I mean it! Look how beautiful~

Hunter: Tempest-

Tempest: I've never seen one like this~

Hunter: takes her by the shoulders, turning her towards him For the love of the Titan, would you shut up??!

Tempest: I-I was trying to change the subject okay?! They would have been stupid questions. Thats it.

Hunter: he sighs letting her go You're acting weird, weirder than usual-

Tempest: W-why don't we go back to the party~? The Emperor must be looking for you~ she giggles nervously

Hunter: He can wait!

Tempest: looks surprised at him Are you serious?

Hunter: Of course I'm serious! Can I be the worried one of us for once?

Tempest: blushes violently You are worried... about me?

Hunter: he blushes too as soon as he realizes what he said N-no! I didn't mean it! I meant- I mean I-

Tempest: smiles amused and kisses his cheek Thank you~ she runs off the hideout and goes back to the party

Hunter: he stands there with his eyes wide open, not quite understanding what just happened, touching his cheek

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kuroos-moon · 3 years

Text

「viii. give in to you 」

You get off the van with your hood over your head just to be safe despite the quiet of the place. Where are you to be exact?

Your manager has just dropped you off at MSBY’s gym much to his protest—not that you ever listened much to him anyway. Definitely not here to see Sakusa, you shamelessly lie to yourself with the audacity to brightly smile as you greet everyone in the gym.

There certainly was a glare coming your way, an unfriendly one at that, but you feign innocence and flash the plastic bags of food in your hands. “I brought food!”

“Okay, let’s have our lunch break early, break time people!” Atsumu grins, clapping his hands as his teammates scatter except for your friends.

“Kid, how many times do I have to tell you, I’m the coach here! You’re not even captain!”

The trace of your dark, curly-haired love interest disappeared like magic amongst the crowd and for a while you wondered if he had the talent to avoid you so skillfully.

“Is he a ninja or something?” You mutter mindlessly as you try to activate your non-existent x-ray vision through their locker room.

“Huh? Ninja? Me?” Hinata’s face blocks your view and you shake your head with a small laugh, dismissing the shortie as you ruffle his hair. “Let’s eat, yeah?”

“So… no one’s gonna ask it?” Atsumu asks as you all squat in a small circle, helping yourselves with your meals.

“Right. Y/n, why did you bring food good for five people, did you know how much of a glutton I’ve become recently?” Bokuto tactlessly speaks with his mouth filled, which you respond to by pressing a napkin against the corner of his mouth.

“Thanks,” he beams.

Atsumu clears his throat, your heads snapping towards his direction in unison. “The fifth meal is obviously for Oomi, ain’t it? ‘Ya little fox, at least call him over here.”

You chuckle, ignoring the worried glance Bokuto and Hinata shared. “Does Kiyoomi, being the health enthusiast that he is, ever skip meals?”

They all shake their heads.

“Right. So no matter how much he tries to avoid me, he’ll crawl out the locker room eventually.”

As if on cue, the doors of the locker room opened, and walked out of them was Kiyoomi who refused to look anywhere near your direction.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi!”

“Oomi!” Both you and Atsumu call at the same time.

On Sakusa’s end, he could feel his migraine develop. Atsumu was enough to deal with but the power of hearing both annoying person #1 and annoying person #2’s voices at the same time was too extreme.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi, I brought food for you too, you know.”

You frown as he gets farther away from you, even exiting the gym. Getting up your feet, you run to catch up to him, and out of panic from hearing your footsteps getting closer, he finally turns to you and holds out his arms between the two of you.

Let’s keep this distance, is what he was obviously trying to say so you instantly come to a halt.

“What… the hell?” He almost growls in a low voice as he stares you down with hateful eyes, eyeing how close you both would’ve been if he turned to you a second later. You smile at him.

“Join us for lunch?”

“No,” he deadpans, not waiting for you to say anything more before he turns away again.

You moved without thinking, opting to grab his wrist but you missed. Both you and him freeze, the air around you two confusingly becoming hot yet cold at the same time as your contrastingly small and warm hand clasped his big, cold ones by accident.

Electricity travelled all the way to your chest, your breaths becoming unnatural with tingles present at every inch your skins touched as your face becomes flushed with heat.

“Let go,” he quietly says, and you unconsciously hold his hand tighter, noting how his voice was strained as if he were trying to hold back his anger. “I’m sorry, really sorry,” you say in a rush, “I really didn’t mean t-

“One month. That’s it. And once a week, make sure I only see your face that often, actually, much less than that.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“I’ll eat lunch with you for today then,” he says, walking back towards the doors to the gym, and much to your astonishment, you were tugged along.

The moment you look down, you realize how you still tightly held on to his hand, but you can’t—not for the life of you—let go, no matter how selfish you knew you were being. You wanted to see what face he was making right now, but he was facing straight ahead, his neat curly hair was all there was to see.

“Is onigiri fine?” You mumble, suddenly becoming shy considering you never pictured you two ever being in this situation—walking together in a silent hallway, hand in hand—well, more like you were holding his hand one-sidedly, but still.

“Well, you already bought it,” he says indifferently.

You finally stood in front of the doors and he stops. “My hand.”

“Oh, right, sorry.” You let go immediately, still, the tingles remained. It’s almost as if the ghost of his touch was as exhilarating as his touch itself.

He walks in ahead, leaving you standing there dumbfounded as you struggle to process what just happened. He allowed you to hold his hand, and he even said he’ll allow you to more or less spend time with him once a week. You cannot contain the grin on your face even if you wanted to, skipping to his side as you walk together towards your group who stared at the both of you with a variety of expressions.

Atsumu looked somewhat disbelieving yet proud, Hinata looked like he had seen a ghost, and Bokuto had a small frown on his face as if he were deep in thought.

Meanwhile Sakusa, who sat opposite you, silently ate his share, completely ignoring everyone. He perfected the art of never compromising and never giving in to anyone; and yet, there he sat with an aching chest—out of disappointment for himself for giving in to you and some other kind of emotion he couldn’t point out.

He couldn’t bring himself to swat your hand away, nor was he able to uphold his end on the bargain—you weren’t supposed to meet him at all—but now he himself said that you could once a week. His mind was a complete mess and it felt like he had just lost.

The palm of his hand, though he had already disinfected it, still tingled and maybe longed for yours. Looking at you, distractedly laughing along with the rest of your friends, he felt his heart skip a beat—an all too familiar feeling way back from when you were still unproblematic and naïve kids.

He’s losing. Too easily, and too soon.

But he knew he couldn’t shake you off, not because you were persistent, but because he longed for closure deep down; at least that’s what he tells himself, which only felt partially true.

Because if it wasn’t a clean and final goodbye with you that he longed for, then what else could he possibly want?

“Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

“What?” He lowly says, looking away as he realizes he was still staring at you.

“I’m going now. See you on our date tomorrow?” You grin, and you receive yet another deadly glare.

“Kidding, kidding. Next week, I meant. See you then,” you look at him hopefully. He merely eyes you indifferently, as he always does when he ignores you.

“Alright,” he says almost in a whisper, looking away, much to your surprise, “see you.”

Just for a month, he’ll lose to you just for a month; before he completely closes every chapter of his life that you were in.

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smau masterlist

a/n: i’m back?:DD

Taglist [Open]: @juno-multifandom @dope-squish @moonlightaangel @ladymartiini @kac-chowsballs @amareloecrime @bokutosuwus @animatedrapture @dianablushblush @seikamuzu @luvssuna @thepuffybubby @thomas-brodie-sangster-newt @cutiekawa @prcttylittlcthing @impromptuxprompts @lulu3mon @pockytokyo @arianatorgrand3 @coconut-dreamz @tskeiki @superstarsw18 @kaito-thedumbass @astrealia @paripedia @kasandrafaye @kac-chowsballs @bokuakadaily @doggonudezz @seokjinnieandthesixbabies @princess-angel-sweetheart @d-efend @sun-daddy-yoriichi @euphorihan @moncymonce @elianetsantana @gaychemicalwater @miitchii @channiechanchan @chaelysian @weebartistinc @bonkyandloki @dinablossom @adriivette @uwu-baby-boi @broccoliandwheeze @sunflowerirl @yeahhemmings- @violetarks @craftyfawns @haikyunicorn @tinymidgetsstuff

#haikyuu!! x reader #sakusa x reader #haikyuu!! smau #haikyuu!! social media au #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa smau

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quirklessidiot · 4 years

Text

Title: daddy’s first day [coward series au] Pairing: F!Reader x Miya Atsumu Genre: fluff, parents au, slice of life au Synopsis: In which Miya Atsumu takes charge of taking care of the kids for a day Warnings: none!

notes; you don’t need to read coward tbh to read this chapter, its just miya atsumu navigating his life as a daddy hshsshs [side stories are updated every friday] read the series here! [ ss;; one, two, three, four ]

“...Remember that Youta is allergic to shrimps and Yuuto’s got sensitive skin, I have all the medication in case anything happens and Yuuto has his soap in the bathroom in a separate container, just make sure that the water isn’t too cold nor too hot and remind him to wear sunscreen every two hours.” You explain, placing the last of your valuables in your bag “...I’m also on speed dial and you also have the number of their pediatricians on your number 2 speed dial, I also have the food in the tupperware prepared the night before-”

“Y/N, sweetheart, please calm down. I’m not going to kill our kids when you’re gone for the next nine hours.” he frowns at how distrusting you were towards him. okay, he admitted that he may have hated the boys at first but that was before. They were your kids now, that was totally different! They weren’t some random brats on the street! You should have a little faith in him!

“Atsumu, you almost burned down the house while making scrambled eggs.” You expressed, a glint of amusement on your eyes, “Would you like me to call ‘samu-san or Daiki-san?”

He scoffed at the mention of those two men, after ‘samu found out that he was actually an Uncle of those kids, he suddenly had a one hundred sixty degree change of attitude. Of course, Atsumu was happy that you guys got along and the kids seemed to start warming up to him but it seemed like you trusted ‘samu more these days and that daiki too.

“Alright, just help them with their homework and heat up the food okay? I have everything prepared.” You leaned in to give him a quick peck on the temple before leaving. He watches you leave the house in a hurry for work with a frown on his lips.

Married life with you was easy, you were like a superwoman. A great mom, a great co-worker, even a greater wife. How come he couldn’t be as half as good as you? Like be a cool dad to your kids or something? He couldn’t even cook the damn eggs well and there you were, making some Michelin star cuisine while making your kids happy and content and your work life thriving.

“Oh,” Yuuto’s brow is scrunched together as he exits his shared room with his brother, see, that’s what he gets from the kids, awkwardness and insults (mostly insults,really), “You know ever since you came back, ‘kaasan’s always been busy and hasn’t been spending time with us.”

“Yeah.” Youta yawns, scratching his eyes as he exits the room, “You even make bad food, I think you should just keep playin’ volleyball or something.”

Atsumu feels a tick on his forehead, they were definitely his sons that’s for sure.

“I’m trying here.”

Yuuto stifles as chuckle at his father’s reply, wanting to comfort him, he told him a little fact that their ojisan told him recently, “Sure you are, you’re doing a lot better than okaasan, Daiki-ojisan said okaasan didn’t know how to hold us until we were three or four.” the eight year old grinned.

Atsumu grabs a tupperware from the fridge that’s labelled ‘breakfast’ and proceeds to heat it up on the microwave, “I’m sure that’s a lie. Your okaasan seems to do very well now, it’s hard to imagine her messing up.”

He watches them eat their egg rolls and bacon, time flies quick these days. The boys were already eight years old and were getting more and more into volleyball. Youta exclaimed he wanted to be a pro like him while Yuuto wanted to be like you (although he still played volleyball a lot because he had the competitive streak thanks to his father)

“Can we invite Tobio-ojisan on our birthday?” Yuuto asks while Atsumu rolls his eyes, he can’t believe that this kid still idolized that idiot. He beated him thrice already! (okay, Tobio had beated him five times including high school nationals but still)

“Oh also, Shoyou-ojisan then we can play against them!” Youta grins, mouth stuffed with egg rolls. Atsumu grimaces at him then grabs a napkin to wipe off the rice on the side of his lip, “How are you guys not impressed by me?” their father grumbles.

“You’re our otosan.” Yuuto deadpanned.

“Yeah, we see you everyday.” Youta added.

After helping the kids out in the bath (especially Yuuto since apparently he needed a temp check for the water), he had them do their projects and assignments (you had a long list on what they should accomplish today and one of them was a science planetary object)

The thing is though, he wasn’t very good at that.

He ended up having ‘samu on speaker to help the kids as they choked on their laughter because their otosan still thought that Pluto was a planet.

It also didn’t help when their math assignments came up, oh boy, Youta had a problem with one number and when he tried to explain to Atsumu that there was a new way to solve that and that their sensei had told them to solve it that way, he got pissed, “I don’t know that way! Why would they change math? MATH IS MATH!” He screeches at the notebook as if it had done something wrong to him.

Safe to say, Yuuto had a field day as he watched his otosan frustratingly solve the math problem whilst muttering something about how math was complicated and they didn’t need to change up the equations. Youta, on the other hand, had to calm him down and tell him they could just use the old way to solve the problem.

“...I want pizza.”

“Your mom left us dinner.”

“It says here on the note that you have to bake it in the oven.” Yuuto reads out loud, “ ‘Samu-ojisan says that you shouldn’t touch an oven though.”

Atsumu feels like he’s aging quick because of these two kids, how is it that they were such angels to you but little devils towards him? “...when they’re angels, they’re Y/N’s kids but when they become devils, they’re yours.” ‘Samu jokes.

Ah, he felt his forehead tick on that statement. He had some pretty redeeming qualities that he passed on to his kids like his looks and skills in volleyball!

“Otosan, I don’t think you should put the tupperware in the oven.”

“I know what I’m doing here.”

Clearly, he didn’t. He ended up melting the plastic tupperware and having to call for takeout right after. The three of them looked at the melted tupperware and the food spillage in the oven, “Okaasan really likes those tupperwares.” Youta points out.

“I’ll buy her ten new ones.” Atsumu grimaced at the food in the oven, he should clean that and get rid of all the evidence when you come home in an hour. In fact, he should just buy a new oven because he thinks the smell is permanent there, “Wanna watch a movie before you go to bed? I promise I’ll cover for you.”

“You just don’t want us to tell okaasan that you melted her tupperware.” Yuuto pointed out.

“Pffft…” Atsumu laughs, pretending to shake it off, “I would not.”

“Extra scoop of ice cream on Sunday.”

“Yeah!” Youta echoes.

Atsumu narrows his eyes, “Deal.”

They ended up sprawling on the couch after putting on their pajamas. The kids sip their milk next to him, after seeing Kageyama drinking loads of it, the boys decided that if a big boy like Kageyama Tobio could drink milk, they could to (Osamu crackles because they didn’t seem to listen to Atsumu lecturing them about the benefits of milk) Halfway through the movie, the kids fell asleep and the blonde feels his eyes shut soon after too.

You come in quietly as you notice the quiet chatter of the TV and the figures of your three boys on the couch, all snuggled together. Your heart immediately softens as soon as you see the domestic scene in front of you. Something you probably never could imagine before, your boys. You take a picture before waking your husband up with a light kiss on the jaw, “You look like you had a fun day.” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear.

“I hate math assignments.” was all he could reply.

You silently chuckled as you picked up Youta, “I’ll put the kids to bed, mind running me a bath?”

“Can I join in?” Atsumu suddenly awakened as soon as he heard what you said, a smirk dancing on his lips, “Save water and all that?”

“Are you really going with me in the tub?” You narrowed your eyes, “Last time we did that together, we ended up having two kids.”

“What’s another two more?”

“Miya Atsumu.”

taglist [officially closed, if you guys want to be removed for the side stories, feel free to tell me hehe ilyasm and thank you once again, coward wouldn’t be possible without all you people + other readers]

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@misosamu @Etherynaw @ryaaaax @allysasteaparty @mikaashi @brownie0food @ph10xy @Chocolaterumble [hi, i can’t seem to tag u guys, i think you need to open your tags uwu]

#miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu fanfiction #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyu!! fanfics #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons

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alexandenigtscreations · 3 years

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Chapters: ½ Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast Rating: Teen and up Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel Additional Tags: Poisoning, Poison, Heist gone wrong, Peter Nureyev has ADHD, Rita defiantly has ADHD, Nonbinary Juno Steel, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, TPP, Junoverse | Juno Steel Universe Summary:

After Nureyev get’s poisoned on a mission, he’s determined to see it to it’s completion. He and Juno make quite the team after all. Had many thoughts after reading @kaiserkorresponds 's fic ---> [The Celestial's Kiss https://archiveofourown.org/works/31409258 ]. Which apparently has been spinning round and round my head. I do love a good poisioning <3</p>

Chapter 1:

It should have been obvious from the moment the drink hit his lips. The sour bitterness that the burn of poor quality alcohol failed to mask. It should have been obvious. But focused as he was on keeping a straight face; Nureyev found himself swallowing the vial fluid before he could begin to think better of it. He paused, eyes flicking down to the odd shimmer he’d mistaken for ice melt.

That- wasn’t ideal-

He filed deeper thoughts on the subject away in favor of assessing for further threats. The facility crawled with them, from the myriad of security cameras to their flamboyantly garbed host. They were watching a little too closely, a little too carefully. A smile playing across their garish lips.

Nureyev sat back, glancing over at his goddess. A vision in the scarlet A-cut dress. There was a slit running up his thigh, revealing quite a bit of leg and a hint of a holster.

Juno’s own drink, served neat, bore the same tell-tale signs of tampering. The Detective swirled it about his glass, clearly about to throw it back in his usual no nonsense fashion.

That would not due.

With all the coolness Nureyev could muster, he placed a gentle hand over Juno’s cup. His Detective tensed, sending a soft, questioning gaze his way.

“Not very hospitable, spiking a Lady’s drink.”

“What?” Juno pulled back, guard up.

Nureyev’s fingers curled around the glass, taking a moment to weigh his options. He had half a mind to fling it’s contents into the eyes of Jody, the large thuggish man directly across the table. He might even have time to incapacitate Mx. Balsa and get Juno to cover him before reinforcements came. They might even make it out in one piece-

It was tempting, but ultimately would get them nowhere.

They were on a job, after all. If there was any chance of salvaging the situation, that should be their first option. One little computer virus, how hard could it be to plant?

He took the glasses and poured their contents on the floor, the ice shattered on impact.

Mx. Balsa smiled. “Very good Mr. Tillerson. It seems you passed our test.”

“A test. We came to have a civilized discussion, Mx. Balsa.” Nureyev said pointedly, he could still feel the burn of the alcohol in his throat “Not play childish games.”

Mx. Balsa shrugged their narrow shoulders “Childish or no, it’s effective. We don’t let just anyone play with us. I’m sure you understand.”

“Understand?” Juno bristled, “Understand my boot! You try to pull something like that-”

Juno came up short when Nureyev squeezed his thigh; nodding his head graciously, “Naturally. Now are there any other- tests- we should be made aware of or are we free to get down to business.”

Was he imagining it? Or was his stomach already souring?

File it away-

“Down to business!” Juno blurted, “They offered us a spiked cocktail and you want to get back to business?” he sat back, crossing arms over his chest “I say no way. The only people that I know of who spike drinks are scoundrels and cheats. How are we supposed to take them at their word?” At some point the moral outrage in his voice changed into a conversational tone.

Nureyev could have kissed him, if it weren’t for their cover- “My colleague has a point. You’ve tested us, it seems only fair that we should test you.” he gave his best smile, “Perhaps a sample of your information for our technicians to verify.”

“I hardly believe that to be necessary-” said Mx. Balsa. Nureyev knew that they were the sort of person that relied heavily on their reputation. But deals weren’t made on reputation alone.

“Oh? But I do. Unless you are unable to deliver what we discussed?” Nureyev stared into their pale eyes. They didn’t flinch. He waited a beat, then two and still nothing. He stood with a heavy sigh “I believe our business here has concluded then. Mr. Micah.” He offered a hand to Juno, who accepted it.

“Sure Tillerson.”

The pair made to leave. Jody, Mx. Balsa’s companion moved to intercept. Which was effective both for the fact he was so broad of shoulder as to eclipse the door behind him and so tall that even Nureyev felt as though he had to peer up into his face.

Instinctively, Nureyev moved in front of Juno. It was ridiculous, a man that large simply should not be allowed.

“Like I said, there is no need to leave.” Mx. Balsa’s tone did not change, but there was a weight to it now, a tension.

“And why should we stay?” Juno crossed his arms defiantly over his chest.

They surveyed him for a moment. “If it’s information you want, it’s information you will have.” They slid a chip into their comms and made a fuss of downloading a sample. It chirped upon completion and they offered it up with a flourish. “Please, a sample, if you will.”

Nureyev’s eyes flicked from the chip to their host and back. He smiled, accepting it in a cocky, gracious manor that was felt exclusively by his alias.

“Very well, I’ll have our team verify this information. If you would excuse me.” Jody made an intercept but this time Mx. Balsa intervened. A small shake of their head, jewels shimmering in the light. That was a relief. With a nod to Juno, Nureyev slipped out the doors and made a beeline towards the restroom even as he sent the data to Rita.

As much as he wanted to run, he didn’t. He kept his gate easy and posture confident. That changed as soon as he was in the privacy of the privy.

Nureyev bolted to a stall, shoving two fingers down his throat. He gagged and wretched till his eyes watered, jaw cramped and his skull pounded. Bowing lower with each convulsion, clinging to the hope he’d retch up the vial cocktail.

It wasn’t working.

He reached deeper, spayed his fingers further, feeling the bite of his sharp teeth in his hand, nails scraping on the inside of his throat-

Historically, he’d viewed being ill at will as a necessary evil of his trade. A skill, as it were.

One he’d never mastered.

It had landed him in the hospital on an occasion or two.

Try as he might, the only thing he succeeded in doing was ruining his makeup. He gave up, of course he did, there wasn’t a point in driving himself into exhaustion. Yet alone displaying that weakness for the world to see.

There was nothing for it. He would just have to bide his time until they returned to the Carte Blanche.

In all probability, he had time. Brahmese people were particularly resilient to a variety of toxins. Not by some evolutionary fluke, but by design. The planet had always been hostile to its human inhabitants. In all its infinite wisdom, the government, rather than deal with the expensive venture of cleaning the pollutants from living zones, had instead chosen to subsidize gene editing. That was before the war though.

Mag had been so relieved to find Nureyev had inherited the genetic coding. ‘First rule of thieving Pete’ he’d laughed ‘take any advantage you can get!’

Advantage- Nureyev snorted, more like a double edged sword. While it afforded him some protection, it also marked him as distinctly Brahmese.

File it away-

The thought of the Carte Blanche again, of Vespa Ilkay. She was the last person he wanted alerted to the genetic quirk.

File that away too while you’re at it-

Nureyev turned his attention to the vanity. He’d made quite the mess of himself. Lipstick and eyeliner smeared, ropes of various… secretions clinging to his nose and mouth, eyes red and puffy. He frowned at the fine dusting of red circling the tender flesh behind the spectacles. Petechiae- apparently he’d burst a few blood vessels.

Great, just great. All the work he’d put into Tillerson’s visage for naught- file it away.

All the same, he allowed himself a moment of discontent as he began the process of cooling the swelling, washing away the evidence and rework his appearance.

The door swung open, and scarlet filled his periphery.

“God Damnit , there you are- Tillerson-” bless him, they’d practiced using their aliases for a week before the job and Juno was still uncomfortable with them.

“Mr. Micah.” Nureyev returned, blending the concealer under his eyes.

“You were gone for a while-” Juno didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. Nureyev could tell when his Detective was worried. He was fidgeting head to toe, poor thing.

“I decided to visit the powder room while waiting on our team to analyze the data.” he glanced at his comms “The information appeared to check out- And- oh my they seemed to have attempted to sneak in a trojan horse. Rita assures it isn’t a problem but-”

Juno plainly wasn’t listening. He was looking him over with that sharp eye, stepping into his space. “You okay babe?” he breathed, reaching out to smooth a hair back into place and cupping his cheek “your eyes are red.”

Nureyev jumped in surprise. Had Juno even bothered to check for surveillance devices or- People slept with their co-workers all the time, he and Juno were no exception to that rule, but what if they were seen? Found out? Their cover blown! What if-

But no- he trusted the Detective.

He cleared his head gently kissing the lady’s palm. He considered for a moment telling Juno about the poison, but what came out of his mouth instead was “Just some minor irritation, love.” He stepped away, Mr. Tillerson sliding back into place. “I suppose we should return to our hosts.”

“Yeah-"he flashed an uncertain smile. Just don’t go disappearing on me again. Thought they were going to eat me alive or something-”

“We can not have that now, can we?” He returned the smile, trying to exude his usual confidence despite the weakness in his legs. They would have to wrap this up quickly, if the dizziness was anything to go by. Plant the virus and leave.

“You were gone for quite a while Mr. Tillerson.” greeted their host.

“Merely conversing with my associate.” he shrugged, “And you’re in luck, Mx. Balsa. Your information appears to be- genuine.” Nureyev planted a firm hand on the table, as much for balance as it was to return the chip.

“Of course it is, we went through great pains to ensure it to be so.”

“Indeed. I’m sure the origin story would be most interesting but we have a matter to settle. The price.”

They had discussed this before. Mx. Balsa wouldn’t deal with those who didn’t have something interesting to offer. It had taken Buddy and Rita time to figure out their tastes, and even more to fabricate a program. A hacking bot. It wasn’t real of course, the only thing that made it halfway convincing at all was Rita piloting the thing remotely.

“Yes, the price-” they drawled. Nureyev did not take kindly to that tone. “The price just went up.”

Nureyev’s eyebrows crept upwards while Juno bolted upright “Hey now! We agreed to the terms before this even-”

“Micah, please”

“No! So far they’ve tried to poison us and hid a goodie in their sample intel. Now they want more . Hell, they should be paying us for this-”

“Mr. Micah, please. I merely desire to know what it is you hope to accomplish with the information. And to get a taste for your program’s capabilities as you have of my intel.”

Nureyev pretended to consider it, placing a hand on Juno’s knee and tapping out a message, before saying “These appear to be fair terms, however, what I’m wondering is if there are any more hidden fees.”

To say Mx. Balsa was slippery, was an understatement. Nureyev had seen people like them before, knowledge brokers, able to root out and twist any grain of truth to their heart’s desire. This was not someone he wanted to be investigated by. Juno would be a veritable beacon. Public employees were so easy to track-

Mx. Balsa took their time in testing the program. Rita informed them when she’d gotten the virus set up in their system, it didn’t take her long at all. Now they just had to play the wait game. They fained interest in the intel, made up a story to satiate their curiosity and asked enough questions to avoid suspicion. All the while Nureyev could feel his health take a steady trend downwards.

Once or twice he thought they shot him a knowing look as his attention began to wonder, or that Jody was leaning in a little too closely. He tugged at his collar absently, the sweat plastering his shirt to him under the corset. It was hard to gauge if the pressure of the boning was having a positive or negative effect on the nausea. If they knew he’d been poisoned, what would they do? Would they try to revoke their deal? Detain them? Hurt them? Hurt Juno?

He could not let that happen, would not.

Juno squeezed his thigh, startling him out of his thoughts. Mx. Balsa was pushing a new chip towards them, the one with the information they’d spent the better part of a day mulling over. It was encased in a silver embossed box, flashy and probably manufactured to ensure no one could scan its contents.

Nureyev took out his comms once more and clicked it into place. It was all there, Rita checked for them. Thank the stars it wasn’t another test. After all, it would be suspicious if they left with only half the intel.

“I believe that concludes our business.” he smiled, rising gratefully to his feet.

“We’ve kept you so long, won’t you stay for dinner?”

“Dinner my ass.” Juno grumbled for only Nureyev’s ears.

“Didn’t quite catch that-” Mx. Balsa frowned.

“Ohh Sorry, we’ll pass, don’t feel like dying today.” Juno smiled, voice dripping in sarcasm.

“Ahh, Pity.”

Nureyev’s laugh was cut short from a stabbing pain in his abdomen. He started again, swaying, hand pressed to his stomach. Certain he’d find blood.

“Everything okay there Mr. Tillerson?”

Glancing down revealed only the pristine pearl embroidery of the corset. No blade, no blood, he was…. fine-

He released his death grip on the chair, quickly filing away that sensation best he could. Their mission was nearly done after all, no need for theatrics now.

“Perfectly.” He smiled wider, displaying sharp teeth. “We’ll show ourselves out.”

Jody made a big show of opening the doors for them so that the muscled chords of his biceps were on full display. They’d just managed to step before slamming it shut at their backs.

The smile Nureyev had been wearing, dissolved into a grimace. He set a brisk, if uneven, pace to the exit.

“Hey- Ran-” Juno groaned “Tillerson! Wait up!” Juno clacked to his side.

“Apologies Micah, I merely-ah!” he stumbled over his feet, Juno caught him in his strong arms.

“Hey- are-are you alright?”

His head was still spinning and there was that question again. He had no desire to deal with it at present. “I-”

“The truth this time.” Juno pressed, ever the persistent Lady.

“Just a tad under the weather-” he admitted.

“Babe, why didn’t you say something-”

“Something I drank. It’s fine love.”

Bone deep tiredness pulled him down. He wanted nothing more than to surrender himself to the arms of his goddess. It would be safe there, warm.

Juno looked like he was going to ask more questions but was interrupted.

A shrill cry tore through the hall. It sounded like Mx. Balsa.

“What the hell?” Juno craned his neck to look. "You don’t think they found it yet?“

"Let’s- not check.” Nureyev entwined his arm with Juno’s, setting up a brisk pace towards the doors. Relying on the Detective as one might a crutch.

There was a wash of hurried footsteps, people shouting, blasters charging- the only thing that made sense was security-

“I believe we’ve overstayed our welcome Detective!” Nureyev said.

“Ya Think!” Juno yelled back, voice cracking from the force of it. Even so- he withdrew a fist full of blaster from the dress slit.

But Nureyev wasn’t focusing on Juno, wasn’t focusing on the escape. Jody was barreling on through the guards, weapon raised and charging and trained on-

“Micah!” He slammed into Juno just as the bolt whizzed past striking another employee. They rotated so that he could serve as Juno’s shield while giving him time to line up a shot. It might have worked too if he’d been a little quicker-

The next thing he knew he was violently ripped from the Detective. A strong, bulky arm wrapped about his throat, crushing it.

Jody-

It had to be, few could make Nureyev’s toes leave the ground. His chest quaked with strain of forcing air in and out of his constricted windpipe. He kicked for purchase, skiving off the panic by attempting to worm his forearm up through the choke hold; the other diving into a pocket for a blade.

“Tillerson!” Juno shouted.

“Important to you isn’t he.” Their voice was surprisingly soft and high for their bulk.

Juno fired two shots beyond them, he must have hit his mark because there was the sound of something hitting the floor.

Jody jerked back, causing stars to burst in front of Nureyev’s vision. Fear clouded his mind, making him claw at the bodyguard. Even so he blindly groped for the familiar curvature of a handle-

“No more of that-” they warned “Or I will be forced to-” but what they’d be forced to do was lost.

Nureyev found a knife amongst the stashed trinkets and baubles, he had just enough wherewithal to mouth ‘ ready- ’ before manically plunging the blade into the brute’s thigh.

They howled, dropping Nureyev. Juno sent a stunner straight to their chest as soon as his partner was clear. The lady darted forwards, catching the thief under arm and hauling farther along the passage. Nureyev, for his part, gulped down air and forced his sluggish legs to take his weight.

They had no choice but to run. Nureyev readied fresh blades, easier to locate now his brain had a proper supply of oxygen. Pressed for time as they were, he couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t recovering like he ought to.

They rounded a corner and “Damn it” Juno hissed, taking in the thick ring of guards round a door “There’s too many-”

Manny there were. But they also appeared green, scared. Nureyev didn’t need three decades of experience reading people to know they could be intimidated.

“Perhaps-” he puffed, flashing a wiry smile. "Let’s see what they are made of.“ It was all the warning he gave before sprinting towards the group.

It was a foolish plan, a desperate one. There were screams and shouts as Nureyev’s blades flashed. He had to give them a little credit, they held ranks far longer than he’d imagined them capable. That all changed with the first spray of blood. Typically he’d aim to wound in Juno’s presence; but with the way his hands shook he was taking any opening that presented itself.

Distantly he could hear the bite of Juno’s words as he called out and could feel his presence joining at his side. The two of them versus the small army of guards. He allowed himself to get caught up in the simple rhythm of the moment.

For the first time since the mission started, Nureyev’s mind cleared. All there was was the ache of his breath, the burn in his limbs and the death defying dance with Juno Steel.

They shot and sliced their way to an opening; clawed a path to the hall, the entrance way and the street beyond and-

Sweet escape-

This - this moment right here, was what Nureyev lived for.

The dizzying rush of the night air spurred the pair on until all sounds of pursuit faded. Despite his long legs and penchant for running, Juno easily kept pace. He could feel it now, the sickness worrying away at him from the inside. He didn’t know how much more he could take before his legs would give out or lungs burst. Still he pushed harder, dug deeper, counting his steps to drown out the complaints of the body.

At long last they stumbled into an ally way; a narrow thing that reeked of misuse.

"Okay- What the Hell!” Juno rounded on Nureyev, eye flashing in the dim light of the dome.

Nureyev swallowed, hardly able to keep his focus on the Detective. The light cardio had left him feeling queasy and weak. Wrong. He supposed poison on an empty stomach would do that to you. Not to mention how tender his throat was after Jody’s mistreatment.

He put a hand to his clammy forehead, swaying a little.

“I thought I was the reckless one,” he lectured “the one that went off half co- babe? Nureyev?!!!”

He’d doubled over, retching earnestly this time. Just as before, there was nothing to bring up- The cruel dry heaves cramped his core and set his eyes watering, legs folding under the crushing weight of it.

“Babe, heyheyhey, hey~ I got you-” strong arms wrapped around him, propping him up, “I’ve got you.” Small circles worked into his back as they waited for it to end.

“S-sorry-” he gasped between convulsions. They didn’t have time for this, they didn’t have time for any of this. Yet here he was endangering Juno with his own ineptitude. “I’m- ss-”

“Ugh-uh, no, you’re not doing that.” Juno cut him off. “Hell, when you said you weren’t feeling good-” Nureyev made to apologize again, but Juno gave a warning “hun”

He slumped against the brickwork, trembling and breathing heavily.

“Done?”

Nureyev gave a non committal hum. It was all he trusted himself to manage.

All the same, a moment was afforded to him to clean up with a moist towelette. Again his makeup was ruined, but he was far from caring. The important thing at present was to leave this city behind.

Juno seemed to be thinking along the same vein. “Think you can stand? Or should I contact Jet?”

“No need for that love.” Nureyev smiled weakly, nausea churning within “Just give me a hand.”

The Detective obliged, neatly entangled their fingers and pulled him along using his comms to navigate. He was mighty grateful for the assistance, between the stomach ache and the weight in his limbs, he was having difficulty remaining upright.

Nureyev eyed the nooks and crannies of the back streets. Had he been alone he’d likely of spent the night curled up in one of those charming locations. Cold and cramped, but out of sight. He sighed, surrendering himself to the guidance of his goddess.

“Hello Ruby.” Nureyev greeted wirily. It chirped in response alerting Jet to their presence. The door swung open of the Ruby’s own volition and the pair slid in. “Jet-”

“Ransom.” Jet acknowledged.

“Hey big guy.”

“Are either of you injured?” he asked, glancing back in the rearview mirror. “I ask because of the blood.”

“Don’t think so. Had to get a little rough on the getaway.” Juno explained glancing down at his gore streaked dress and coat. “Honestly, if we could move out, that would be great. I don’t really fancy meeting up with those nut jobs again.”

Nureyev hummed in agreement. Doing his level best to keep his expression neutral and his breathing measured. He must look a mess judging by the way Jet kept eyeing him.

Turbulence made him gasp as pain blossomed in his abdomen. His composure slipping and rearranging like water. He slouched lower, trying to get some relief-

Juno was talking with Jet, or talking at him more like. Nureyev stopped listening after the first few moments, lulled instead by his Lady’s warm voice and the way it crackled at the edges when he became impassioned. He was just so tired-

Before he knew it, the thief was leaning on the Detective’s shoulder, sinking into his side, bloodshot eyes fluttering shut. Normally he’d be loathed to sleep at the end of a job like some worn out child. But he couldn’t fight anymore.

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ratisnotcrying · 3 years

Text

you’re useless

Summary: “Well, maybe if you weren’t so goddamn useless then we wouldn’t be stuck here.”

Juno hadn’t meant to say it. He didn’t even really believe it. Maybe he would have, when he was still a PI, before he had first met Peter, but he had changed so much since then. He still had bad days, but he handled them better now. He knew when he was in the wrong.

Prompt: "You're useless." from palettes-and-prompts

Pairings: background Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel, background Buddy Aurinko/Vespa Ilkay

Warnings: implied child abuse, descriptions of violence, hidden injury, hurt/comfort

Word count: 2.6K

A/N: this is crossposted on ao3 - ik that repeticism isnt a word but im making it one for this fic

~~~

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so goddamn useless then we wouldn’t be stuck here.”

~~~

Rowan isn’t quite sure how they found themself on board the Carte Blanche and on the outskirts of the Aurinko crime family.

They had the typical, cliché backstory of a lone-wolf operating within the underbelly of society - a surface-perfect home life destroyed by something seemingly mundane blah blah blah, trust issues, a long line of enemies, enough friends to count on one hand, and nothing much else to show for over two decades of living.

One good thing about working alone is the need to get creative, and this is what had put them on Buddy’s radar in the first place. A few years ago, Rowan had been hired to acquire a tank of rare fish - this is about where they stopped asking questions, they didn't care as long as they got paid - and, after some very elaborate lies, an even more elaborate disguise and a rigged game of cards, they had managed to win a tank of the ugliest fish they had ever seen.

The part that caught Buddy’s attention, though, was the escape. Rowan had been found out before they had a chance to get out of the building, and had only managed to escape because they had memorised the security’s routes. It took a bit of guesswork, but they had been able to work out where the security would be coming from, found an unguarded window, clambered down a drain pipe, fish tank sloshing precariously in their bag, and landed near perfectly in a pile of rubbish bags outside the window - if you discount the broken bottle that had gouged their leg.

Buddy had picked Rowan up a few weeks after Juno and Rita, but it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows, no matter how much anyone may have wanted it to be.

The problem wasn’t that Rowan couldn’t do their job - if that were the case they wouldn’t be here. No, the problem was that being thrown into close quarters with a bunch of strangers was… a lot. Especially for someone who had been alone for so long.

Rowan liked Jet well enough, he was straightforward and honest but intense; Buddy’s ‘take no shit but do no harm’ attitude aligned perfectly with her unwavering morals, and this was a welcome relief from the lies and deceit Rowan had lived with for so long. Rita and Peter were surprisingly welcoming, and Rowan formed a reluctant almost-friendship with Vespa. Juno, though. He and Rowan were too alike: fiercely independent, stubborn as a mule, and they both fell back into old habits as easily as anything.

Maybe this clash of bad habits, the deceptive comfort in being who you were, even for a moment, is how this job went so spectacularly wrong.

~~~

It was supposed to be a simple in-and-out job. Rita had taken out the security cameras, Jet was waiting in the car, and Juno was sneaking down the darkened hallways with Rowan.

“I still don’t understand why we need this goddamn painting. It looks like a baby threw up crayons and then just threw up on a canvas.”

“I’ve just eaten, Juno, shush if you don’t want me to throw up too.”

“Rowan, darling, please do not do that - this painting is priceless and highly sought after, which is why, Juno, we need to swap this for the information August Reid is refusing to give us. I did mention this in our family meeting before you left.”

Vespa’s aggravated voice piped up in the background of Buddy’s comms, “He was too busy swooning all over Ransom to pay attention.”

~~~

They had gotten the painting easily, so it was just a matter of getting out again. Rowan had been tasked with studying the guards’ shift patterns and routes, and had had no problem getting them in. Apparently, their luck couldn't hold.

They crept forwards, leading Juno left, right, left again, ducking this way and that to avoid the, quite frankly excessive, number of guards patrolling the halls. And that’s when it happened.

Rowan ducked right around a corner into another corridor, one that was supposed to be empty for another six minutes at least and there, at the other end, was a guard. A guard who was looking right at them.

“Crap.”

“What? Rowan we need to kee- crap.”

Both of their comms beeped, Buddy asking them questions with thinly veiled panic in her voice, but neither of them answered, stood frozen, eyes locked with the guard. Then all hell broke loose.

Everyone took out their guns and bullets started flying, the guard was shouting and footsteps could be heard thundering closer from all directions.

A tidal wave of de ja vu crashed over Rowan, “Fuck, this way,” they shouted, turning to run, voice tinged with something Juno didn’t have time to decipher, but Juno grabbed their sleeve and dragged them in the opposite direction.

“Hell no. You are done giving directions, I am not letting you get me killed here.”

They ran back the way they had come, and Juno skidded to a stop in front of a storage cupboard.

“Get in, quickly. There’s a vent at the top we need to get through. Do you think you can manage that?”

Rowan wasn't sure - there was a searing pain in their side that sent shocks of nausea through them with each breath and black dots into their vision with each movement. But this was their fault - they had failed at the one job they had - the one thing they were supposed to be able to do, they got themself shot and had put Juno in danger. They did not need to hold the job up any longer - they just had to get out of here and they could deal with the shot later.

It was a tight squeeze, both of them were crammed awkwardly into the vents, waiting for Rita to work out where they were so she could guide them out.

“Christ, it’s cramped in here - my side is killing me.” Rowan muttered to themself.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t so goddamn useless then we wouldn’t be stuck here.”

Everything seemed to shift and sharpen, Rowan suddenly violently aware of everything around them whilst simultaneously being blurred by memories they had tried so hard to bury: Juno was trying to listen and see if they had been found, there was shouting from down the hall, the smell of musty metal was almost overwhelming and Rowan jerked as if physically struck by Juno’s words, completely at a loss for what to say. Luckily, Rita, who had been on the comms, was not quite as speechless.

“Mistah Steel! That is a horrible thing to say, how could you-”

“Goddamnit Rita, I don't have time for this - how they hell do we get out of here?”

~~~

Jet was still outside with the car, and took off at break-neck speed as soon as the doors were shut. Juno sat in the front seat, the painting on his lap, talking to Buddy about something, and Rowan was slouched in the back, trying to cover up the fact that their organs were about to fall out. Well, that was an exaggeration. Probably. Just to be safe they grabbed a jacket they had left in the car weeks ago and slipped it on, wrapping it tightly around themself to try and hide the blood and hopefully-not-organs.

Juno had gotten a bit banged up in the vents, so when they arrived back at the Carte Blanche he went straight to the medical bay to meet Buddy with the painting and then to get checked.

“Rowan, it is recommended that you also get checked out. You look very ill,” Jet said as Rowan turned away from the medical bay and towards their room.

“No worries, Jet, I just want to get changed first - these clothes are filthy.”

~~~

“It was a mistake, darling, the best of us make them.”

“Yeah, well, it ws a stupid mistake - all they had to do was make sure they knew where the guards would be and then make sure we weren’t there!”

Vespa growled at Juno, who was gesticulating wildly whilst she was trying to wrap a bandage around his arm.

“Juno, I don’t care if Rowan walked straight up to that guard and told him why you were there - we are a family, and you will not speak to any member of this family like that.”

“That’s another thing - I get why everyone is here except Rowan - you said it was some daring escape that brought them here, but after today’s performance… what exactly do they bring to the table?”

“I’m going to leave that for you to work out, Juno.” Buddy said tersely.

He deflated a little, head tipping back to stare at the ceiling. Goddamnit.

“Are we about done here, Vespa, I’ve got places to be.”

~~~

Rowan would quite like a stiff drink right about now. Partially to actually drink, but mainly because they had run out of steriliser and this wound was definitely going to get infected and it would be this whole thing and they would get ill and-

“Get it together, Rowan.” They hissed, pulling out a sterile needle and taking a deep breath as they began to stitch themself up. This was not the first time, and likely wouldn’t be the last, that Rowan has had to do this - working alone and working recklessly meant most jobs ended with soft pink staining bandages and staining baths, throat and skin burning from cheap whiskey. Tonight didn’t have to be different.

The shot had skimmed their side so, luckily, no organs were falling out, but it was still going to be a bitch to heal, likely would be ripped open a few times and leave a nasty scar. This, unfortunately, was also not uncommon.

The painful repeticism of the needle going in and out lulled Rowan into a violent comfort they tried to avoid, the panicked calm soothing them until they couldn't quite hold back the memories they had been reminded of earlier.

Raised voices, gritted teeth and finger shaped bruises. Running, up stairs, through doors, arou-

There was a knock at their door. They flinched, snapping back to reality.

“Rowan, it’s Juno. Can I- can we talk?”

They almost said yes, just called Juno in like nothing was wrong. Then their brain kicked it’s way through the fog and realised they were sitting in bloody trousers, half stitched up wound and thread fully exposed to anyone who might walk in.

“Rowan?”

They picked up the shirt closest to them - part of a matching pyjama set - and tried to tuck the needle away so they could carry on when Juno was gone, and threw the door open.

“Sorry, I was just getting changed. Just sit anywhere.” They mumbled, haphazardly shoving piles of washing off of a chair.

“Thanks. Listen, about earlier, I know that you didn’t mean for that to happen. It’s been a rough week, not that that’s an excuse for what I said- are you alright?”

Rowan had half-sat, half-fallen back onto their seat on the bed and was focusing very hard on not fainting, so much so that they couldn’t really understand what Juno was saying. Maybe this wound was worse than they had thought. They nodded and hoped for the best.

“Right… Anyways, what I actually came to say is that I'm sorry I called you useless. You made a mistake, no one died, well I don’t think anyone died. Whatever, it couldn’t have been avoided. I know that I can be abrasive,” he said with a look that meant he had been told this many, many times before, “but that doesn’t mean that- Rowan, you really look like crap.”

“Wow, thanks, Juno, you say the sweetest things,” they took a deep breath and tried not to panic at the fact that they couldn’t really feel most of their torso anymore, “I know you didn’t mean it, we’re fine. Stop looking at me like that, I’m fine, I just need a nap.” The last words were pointed, hinting sharply at Juno to leave.

“Yeah, because slurred speech and sweating and shaking all scream ‘I’m fine’,” he paused for a moment and Rowan could almost see the cogs whirring, piecing together the information - bullets flying, the unidentified something in Rowan’s voice, the jacket they hadn’t been wearing before, the sterile wrappers on the bed… Then the last piece clicked into place, “Rowan, is that blood?”

They looked down at their top - their white pyjama top - as their vision began to fade out, their head too heavy to hold up and mouth too numb to speak, “No-”

~~~

When they came to, they were in the medical wing wearing a loose sleep shirt - distinctly not soaked in blood - and shorts. They tried to get up and go but a not-so-gentle hand pushed them back to lying down.

“Goddamnit, stop moving. You’ve already ripped your stitches once and you weren’t even awake,” Vespa growled, fussing with the bandages wrapped tight around Rowan’s middle.

“Sorry, I’ve always been lively in bed.”

“That’s cute, darling. What’s not cute is the stunt you pulled last night - if Juno hadn’t come to see you when he did... “ An uncomfortable look passed over Buddy’s face, “Let’s not dwell on that. I will want to talk about this later, but, for now, somebody else wants to see you.”

“Great,” Rowan tried to get up again, “Where are they?”

“Nice try, tough guy, but you’re staying right here until mean old Vespa lets you out.”

“Bite me, Steel.”

“No, thanks, I think I'll leave that to-” He cut himself off at Buddy's warning glance and didn't speak again until Buddy and Vespa had both left the room.

Rowan glanced at the bandage wrapped around Juno’s bicep, “Is it bad?”

“No, just a flesh wound, unlike that one you’re sporting - what was the plan? Stitch it up and hope you didn't drop dead in the middle of the next job?”

“Something like that.”

“Goddamnit. Okay, I don't know how much of what I said yesterday you heard but I'm sorry for what I said. I know we don't really… get along, but you remind me of,” he sighed, “You remind me of someone I used to know.”

“Juno, I really don't need a pep talk.”

“Well, here's the thing - you absolutely do because this,” he gestured to the bandages and the bed, “can’t happen again. You can't see that we care about you - you wouldn't be here if Buddy didn't think you were worth something and Rita is the best judge of character I know; she thinks you’re great. You have a goddamn family here, Rowan, stop trying to push us out.”

Rowan sighed, and Juno graciously didn't mention the tears in their eyes. “I don't know how to-” Rowan shook their head.

“We aren't going anywhere, Rowan, I know that's not what you want to hear but I don't care. For right now you need to stay here and stop ripping out your stitches. Take care of yourself for once. Then we can work on whatever complexes you’re holding onto so tight.” Juno said, squeezing Rowan’s shoulder as he stood.

Rowan didn’t say anything till he was half-way out the door, “Hey, Juno? Thanks.”

“Sure thing.”

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