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corazondebeskar-reads · 2 months

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live to rise - chapter seven

live to rise series

seven: not worth my soul

series masterlist | prev chapter | final chapter

gladiator!Din Djarin x f!reader

word count: 3.6k

summary: An escape attempt is made.

chapter warnings: CREATOR CHOSE NOT TO USE WARNINGS. This chapter contains many very dark themes. I have omitted them as they are all spoilers. Please see end notes for chapter-specific warnings and/or feel free to DM me.

Sorry this is late; life found a way to get in the way. This is the penultimate chapter and thank you all so much for coming along on this journey. I hope you bear with me through this.

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

You’re not cut out for this. This isn’t a surprise. You’ve never had the stomach for danger.

Having to stand still and calm and like nothing at all is making your heart race, nothing is brewing a storm in your stomach, nothing is wrong? Like you aren’t facing near-certain death in a matter of hours?

Your feet are stuck on the metal floor of the sponsor box and it’s not from the sun melting them there. You can’t even bring yourself to face Shand, stuck solidly in place staring out over the arena like you’ll fall apart if you move.

And there are still two hours until he fights, let alone what comes later tonight.

You’re covered in a thin sheen of sweat, thankful again for the light linen blouse and skirts. The circulators billow them with cold air for the sponsor’s comfort but you can’t seem to keep your brow dry.

You’re the weak link and Shand knows it. Luckily, Gideon didn’t seem to register that at your report this morning.

Probably because you had thrown up on his floor before you could say anything and he sent you away, thank the stars.

When it comes time for Din to fight, the dizziness is creeping in. The normal nerves of a battle are incompatible with this newer, stronger terror. You’re practically shaking.

No one notices, though. Not when all eyes are on the Mandalorian as his opponent’s ax settles in the meat of his shoulder.

You think maybe your body betrayed you, that maybe you made a sound. The dryness of your throat was the only saving grace.

Despite the way that everything in you has gone cold, hot tears burn in the corners of your eyes. You squeeze them shut. After all, you had promised. He had pushed and pushed until you promised not to watch.

If there’s any mercy in the universe, you think, this won’t be the end. It can’t be.

It isn’t.

Shand’s hand smacks against your arm and you realize she’s been speaking. You’re hurt that she hit you for only a moment.

“It’s over. He won. Go,” she snaps once she has your attention.

You run.

He doesn’t come back for a long time. You pace the cell, wringing your hands. He doesn’t usually stay in medical, shouldn’t need to, so this was… bad. You can’t hear with the way your heart is beating overtime, the blood rushing in your ears, the tunnel closing in until most of the room is just static.

Until the doors open.

The guards are gone as soon as it closes behind him, not caring for how pallid he seems or the way his eyes aren’t focusing. They’ve healed him, mostly, though you know the damage must be far worse than their bacta shots can fix. You’re at his side in a second, though your strength isn’t enough to hold him up.

Between the both of you, he stumbles to the bed and you ease him down to sit. He tries to pull you down beside him with his good arm but you’re faster, right now, dodging his grip to move, forcing a canteen in his hand instead of your body.

You’re out of the room before he can take a drink, though you know you shouldn’t. It’s almost too risky but far riskier not to.

So you sneak into the kitchens. You’ve only ever used the passcode before to take the little containers of oil and fat left for you by Jyoti. She trusted you immensely and you were going to break that, now. Going to use her code to enter and take real, actual food.

The guilt only lasts for a moment.

The stars align in your favor—or rather, you think, in Din’s, and you make it back to the cell with your contraband unnoticed. He’s dozing off, slumped against the wall, and your heart stops for just a moment before you see the rise and fall of his chest.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” he scolds predictably when you rouse him.

“You lost too much blood,” you snap. Doesn’t he understand? Doesn’t he get it yet? Everything is on the line and he’s worried about theft? The list of your crimes is already insurmountable. A handful of Bantha meat and bread and cheese were hardly going to register.

“I’m fine,” he says, slow and placating.

“Don’t start,” you say with a huff.

He puts down the sandwich and pulls you to him by the back of your neck, cupping gently until your foreheads meet.

“I’m okay, kar’talyc. I’ll be okay.”

“You better,” you try to say, but you choke on it. Here, in his arms, both free from immediate danger, you fall into the breakdown that’s been building all day.

“We’re okay,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “Nothing’s wrong that can’t be fixed.”

And you have to believe him.

When it happens, it happens so fast.

It has to.

You’re in the lounge. There’s a private room reserved, but for now, the three of you are in the crowd. Shand keeps the both of you close, making sickening conversation with other sponsors and encouraging them to ask Din questions about his armor.

It’s, of course, still mounted on display in the center of the room. There’s no barrier, no shield between it and the true scum of the galaxy that populates the room.

Thank the stars for Gideon’s ego.

He’s not in the lounge tonight. Not yet, anyway. It’s a small mercy.

There’s no signal when it begins. No precise timing, no secret comms. Those were not luxuries afforded tonight.

It just happens.

Shand looks at Din and he moves at once, twisting fluidly to shield you with his body. His chest pressed to your back. His to the explosion.

There’s no chance for the dust to settle. Smoke and ash fill the room in hazy orange.

Din’s hand is on your arm until it isn’t.

Shand is by his side until she isn’t.

You’re frozen on the spot until you aren’t.

You finally move, the invisibility granted by your status letting you slip through the screaming socialites.

Blaster fire pings behind you.

In front, a green Mandalorian reaches Din. He doesn’t reach his armor, so you lunge for it. For the helmet.

It flies from your grasp when the trooper grabs you.

Shand snaps it from the air with a grappling cable, whipping it to Din. There’s another Mando, you think, moving through the smoke. A blue one, going for the armor.

Whoever’s in the green kit is strong enough to wrangle Din, yelling something unintelligible as they make for the new exit carved by detonators. There’ll be speeders there, at the former windows of the private room, and they’ll get him to the ship.

You have to believe that’s true.

It’s too late for you, though.

You don’t even fight it when they drag you away.

There’s no chance against two of Gideon’s dark armored troopers.

You think you hear Din yelling and fighting to get to you, and you pray they have the sense to get him out.

The troopers are not any gentler when you go limp in their arms, the ache of their grasp promising to bruise. You hang there, feet dragging, and find yourself blessedly numb.

What awaits you will be worse than death, you expect. They’re going to extract every bit of information from you before they let you die. But it’s okay.

He’s free. He has his helmet and his people.

His son is alive.

You’ve always been willing to martyr yourself for your residents. At least this last time will make a difference. A man walks free; a child gets to keep his father.

Maybe in another life, you could have loved one another wholly.

Dying for him will have to be enough.

When they lock you in the tiny cell, they toss your body to the ground, and your head cracks against the metal bench. The last thing you remember before you lose consciousness is that maybe you understand Vrar’s choice a little better.

Death is the only freedom you’ll get.

When they come for you again, you’re still unconscious. They remedy that with an acrid-smelling capsule cracked under your nose that yanks you back to the real world.

Once you’re in binders, they drag you through the halls back to the sponsor lounge.

Gideon always did have a knack for the dramatics.

In the wreckage, there’s a slanted platform facing what still remains of Din’s armor. You’re dismayed that they only seem to have retrieved the chest plate and helmet, but even that is better than nothing.

The troopers strap you in and leave you there. You suppose they’re hoping you’ll get upset at the sight.

When Gideon swoops in, cape fluttering, he’s accompanied by an interrogation droid. You’d expected that, at least. Not that you aren’t terrified by the sight.

You don’t intend to fight, though. You know next to nothing—he was always careful not to tell you anything he didn’t want tortured out of you.

They won’t believe you, and they’ll torture you anyway. You know this.

Gideon looks you over silently and then turns sideways so he can see both you and the armor.

“Do you know what this is?” He gestures to a pauldron.

“Beskar armor.” You keep your voice as flat as possible.

“Technically correct, I suppose. I meant this specifically.” He taps two fingers against the mudhorn.

“It’s a shoulder pauldron.”

He backhands you. A gasp escapes you, and tears spring to your eyes.

“The symbol, you stupid girl.”

“Yes,” you give in. “It’s a mudhorn.”

“Do you know what it means?”

“It’s the symbol of his clan.”

“Did he tell you why the symbol of his clan is a mudhorn?”

“No.”

He searches your face but finds no lie. “I’ll tell you a little story, then, about this man you think is so high and mighty.

Once upon a time, he stole something very precious from me. A baby, you see, that was under my protection.”

You almost scoff, and he seems to be waiting for it. When you keep control, he carries on.

“But when he tried to escape with the baby, he couldn’t get past a single measly mudhorn. All that bravado, and he had to rely on a little magic baby for help to defeat a single creature.”

When you fail to react again, he steps closer. Too close, really.

“Some champion. You know he was only the Mand’alor by chance? The saber is mine by rights.”

“He won it from you.” He’s goading you, and you know it, but it works all the same.

His palm connects with your face, and you cry out.

“It’s such a shame. You were so well-behaved, so close to freedom. Yet you risked it all for… for what? For him to leave you behind to pay the price?”

“Wasn’t about me.”

“No? He didn’t, say, kiss you and make sweet promises for a future together? Did you really fall for the oldest trick in the book? A weak-willed, heartsick little girl sacrificing herself for a man incapable of love?”

Wretchedly, his words do tug on something deep in your gut. But it’s okay, you remind yourself. It doesn’t matter.

You don’t, either.

You just wish you had been able to send one more comm to your parents. Oh, stars. You can’t think about your parents. Nausea bubbles up in your throat.

“You know, I admired them once, too. Of course, I was just a foolish little boy, jealous of the armor and the power. Until I learned of their savagery, brute nature, and primitive way of life. And then we had the trooper’s suits, but without the beskar…” His eyes are bright and wild. “Well, I solved that little issue, didn’t I? As the leader of Mandalore, I can do whatever I like with the beskar.”

You still don't respond. You’re trying to tune him out. He thinks this will… what, convince you to share information you don’t have? Endure you to him? No, he just likes the sound of his own voice. Wants to boast and brag since his peers are tired of the same stories.

You’re a captive audience.

Unfortunately, this little performance requires your participation. But when he gets to that portion, his sudden question throws you entirely off.

“Who is the rebel spy?” he asks calmly.

“The rebellion was eliminated,” you say automatically. This was the line coached into your brains, the truth the Empire wanted plastering the beaten down remains of hope.

He scoffs. “Don’t play stupid with me, girl. Who was your contact? Who led this little ‘operation’?” His smooth voice was dripping with condensation.

“I don’t know. I was only here as his attendant,” you recite.

“I’m a busy man. I don’t have time to stay here all day. Luckily, I don’t have to.” His grin is practiced power, a crafted cruelty. “That’s the nice thing about IT-Os, you know? They’ll just keep going, even when you break.”

He steps closer. “Or, you can report to me as is your duty. It can tell me if you’re telling the truth.”

“I don’t know anything.”

“So be it.”

And with a swirl of his cape, he leaves. He actually leaves. Your breath picks up, hitching a little.

The droid whirs as it nears you, the buzz reinforcing the mistake you’ve made.

It shows no mercy.

The IT-O may not have let you faint, but the troopers don’t care. Everything goes dark almost as soon as they have you in arms and you wake up in your cell.

The first thing you notice is that you’re about to vomit.

Unfortunately, you do.

The second thing you notice is the full body agony. As if your muscles have all been stretched beyond limits and you’re left to drown in the ache.

The third thing you notice is the ash.

It covers the ground, some soaking into a pool of your sick, some scattered. Whatever it was is curled into dark fragments, thin and brittle with blackened edges.

You lay limp on the bench, arm dangling over the side. You try not to look at it, at how some of your fingers don’t sit quite right. Looking at them makes your head pound and your vision blur.

Instead, you force your eyes to focus on the charred flimsy. It’s familiar. Too familiar.

The colors don’t make a recognizable shape, too torn and burnt, but the way the colors flow over the paper is…

No.

You can’t move. You can’t see anything else. The thick layer of ash and scraps tells you everything you need to know.

The cell is blanketed in what little is left of all of the fighters’ portraits.

Gideon isn’t there when the troopers bring you back. Just the droid. You can’t even control it, you start struggling, pathetic as it must seem, as they strap you onto the table. You’re hyperventilating as your chest feels like it caves in. You can’t take another day of this.

You can’t.

But you do.

Gideon wanders in around dusk, the setting suns visible through the wreckage. The IT-O stands down from its tortures but stays at your side, monitoring vitals and keeping you awake. The drone of its motor is enough to have you shaking.

“So how many souls did you betray for one man?” Gideon says, brows furrowed as if he actually cares.

You don’t say anything, can’t really.

“I know that’s what your little books were for. I am a man of culture, after all. When I visit planets, I like to learn a little about its people.”

So he had gone. Personally.

He answers your thoughts before you think them. “Don’t worry, your parents are fine. You still have a chance to spare them.”

The IT-O whirs and it’s over. You can’t. You know it. Gideon knows it.

He smiles. “Who was your contact?”

“The sponsor. Shand.”

“Is that all you’re going to tell me?”

“That’s all I know.”

“Confirmed,” says the IT-O.

You nearly faint when it talks. You didn’t know it could. It has a horrible, horrible voice and you know if you live past this day, you’ll hear it in your sleep for the rest of your life.

By now, you’re hoping it won’t be for long.

“By the way,” Gideon says casually. “Those little pictures? One might consider those treason. Those are enemies of the Empire. You really should be thanking me for destroying the evidence. If you give me the name of the Rebel spy, I might even be convinced to forget about them.”

“I don’t know anything about a spy,” you say, voice cracking.

“False,” says the droid and you scream.

“I don’t, I don’t,” you cry, but it’s useless. You knew that Gideon and Din suspected there was a spy. It was enough to condemn you.

“So be it,” is all he says before the troopers take you away.

When they come for you again, it’s not the lounge they bring you to.

It’s the arena.

When you realize where you’re headed, having walked these halls enough that it’s ingrained in your core, you almost cry. It’ll be quick this way, you’re sure of it. Whoever you face will be desperate to win, and you, well.

You won’t be.

If only you could have been so lucky. You should have known Gideon wasn’t going to grant you the mercy.

It’s an all-hands assembly. Every Imperial, every servant, every prisoner. The troopers drag you up the steps and secure you facedown on the slanted platform. The restraints are excessive, rendering you essentially immobile.

It doesn’t bode well for a quick death. You had still been clutching the fluttery hope that he’d just decapitate you.

“Last chance to tell me who the spy is,” Gideon murmurs.

“It’s me,” you say.

He laughs. “Oh, stupid girl. If it were, you’d be dead already. You see, even the filthy Rebels don’t leave their own to suffer torture. But you didn’t get even a lullaby, did you?”

You close your eyes. Your crooked fingers twitch of their own accord, a staccato beat on repeat. You hope he’s not watching, but just in case.

Ni ceta. I’m sorry.

“You’re certainly going to wish you did,” he promises.

You don’t listen to his little speech. You try very hard to be anywhere but here, even as your body trembles beyond your control.

When he ignites the darksaber, that tiny hope flutters back to life.

It, and everything else inside you, turns to ash the moment the tip of the blade touches your skin.

He takes his time. You’re sure you scream, but you can’t hear it. Can’t hear anything but the ringing in your ears. Death lingers on the edges of your vision but won’t take your hand, won’t save you.

When he stops abruptly, you don’t register it right away. The pain remains, though the blade is swinging in an arc somewhere behind you.

Someone else screams.

“Don’t let him bite it,” Gideon is saying to a trooper. The words don’t make sense. You think maybe you faint. When you come to, Gideon has his gloved fist around your neck, and you can see the blurry form of someone behind, restrained by troopers.

“I was right,” Gideon sneers. “You knew the whole time.”

“She didn’t know!” Eli says. “She didn’t know. We didn’t tell her.”

“Shut up, or I’ll take the other one,” Gideon snaps.

Your vision clears enough to figure out what he means. Eli’s right leg has been sliced diagonally above the knee, the limb somewhere out of your field of vision. His saving grace, for better or worse, was that the wound was cauterized instantly.

Much like your back.

When Gideon reignites the saber, Eli struggles. You wish you had the strength to tell him not to.

You’re beginning to suspect neither of you will be dying any time soon.

When he finishes, Gideon is almost gleeful when he grabs a holopad to show you what the cameras are showing everyone. The Imperial Crest burned into your back, almost exactly where Din’s Mythosaur is.

When you black out this time, he doesn’t bother to wake you.

You wake in the cage. It’s dark and the arena is empty, but you’re not alone.

Eli has dragged himself to lean against the back wall, looking a sickly pale blue. You aren’t sure how he’s still conscious. Or how you are.

He’s coaching himself through breathing and your own pain begins to fade in, your brain no longer able to ignore the new wounds any more than it can ignore the work of the droid.

“Why did you draw attention to yourself?” you ask him with a hoarse, shattered voice. “ I feel like that should be spy 101 or something.” You crawl closer, desperate not to die alone.

He gives you a wry smile. “You know, I didn’t come here to make friends. Allies, sure. But not friends.”

“Oh, you absolute fool,” you sigh. Your head rests on his good thigh, allowing you to more easily lay on your side and keep dirt off your back. “I wasn’t worth it.”

“Maybe,” he says. “But maybe the Rebels left me here for six years, and I wasn’t allowed to save a single person. And then you came and cared so much.”

You sigh.

"You saved someone. Not for the cause, but just because you could. And you would have done the same for me," he says. “I don’t blame you."

But you wish he would.

Silence settles with the stars. For the first time since you’ve been on the surface, you’re able to enjoy them.

“What?” Eli says as you stare upward.

“The sky is so pretty,” you say, huffing a breath. “The sky is so pretty, and we’re going to die.”

“Technically, those things are always true,” Eli says.

His truth is, at least, a comfort.

next chapter

writing this made me physically ill even though it was planned from the start so if you want to cry/yell with me please do :(

title from "Towards the Sun" by Rihanna.

WARNINGS/SPOILERS BELOW -- -- -- -- -- --

Chapter Specific Warnings: graphic injuries, graphic descriptions of injuries, torture, graphic description of torture, mutilation, dismemberment, suicidal thoughts, suicidal ideations, hopelessness, trauma, mental torture, anguish, angst, hurt NO comfort

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #mando x you #din djarin x f!reader #mando x f!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #gladiator!din djarin #fic: live to rise

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sushisocks · 6 months

Note

MORE MACSUMMER I BEG

I GOT YOU ANON!!!! Here's an assortment of MORE silly goofy headcanons about my favorite silly goofy couple <3

These bitches are COMPETITIVE!! Anything can be a race or a bet between them, to the detriment of EVERYONE else. A friendly rivalry over who between them can bring in the most for the camp isn't enough, they're also betting on whether or not Sean'll eat that fisheye Pearson just discarded, or whether Lenny can shotgun a can of soup before Sean counts to 20. A lot of their less-destructive dares are food-consumption-related, yes, how did you know?

They’ve almost broken their legs and arms several times over with the racing, though. They’ve been scruffed by Arthur about just as many times.

Yes, Lenny is a morosexual. Yes, being around Sean debuffs his impulse control. Part of the fun is that they’re always egging eachother on!!

Meanwhile Sean’s type is very much ‘down to earth, smart, with a fun streak’ and Lenny checks all the boxes. He likes the push-and-pull Lenny offers, as someone who’s unafraid to call Sean on his BS while also going along on the more lighthearted stuff.

(Granted, ‘lighthearted’ in this context may or may not include robbery and arson!)

The inside jokes are neverending; Sean can, like, hold up a spoon and waggle his eyebrows and that'll mean something that has Lenny in hysterics.

Sean might not be that inclined towards reading for himself, but he LOVES listening to Lenny's voice, and will often ask Lenny to read aloud. It doesn't matter if it's a news article, a children's story, or the driest factual book on the face of the planet; if Lenny is reading it to him, Sean will remember what he hears up until the moment he starts dozing off. If Lenny quits too early, Sean will wake right back up and demand he continues until he starts dozing again.

They’ve been stuck in that loop for hours before, but the clue is to let Sean fall asleep properly before Lenny can rest his voice - he’s a lot more willing to do this when he realizes it’s one of the only surefire ways for Sean to NOT have a nightmare <3

They are SO “We aren’t joined at the hip!!” *is actually joined at the hip* core, to me. Lenny will be like ‘I can go on this job on my own!😤’ and then come back and beeline towards Sean to tell him how it went.

You know that one comic that’s like “I gotta pee” “Ok” and then they walk away hand in hand? Literally. They don’t even realize this is what they’re like!

They’re VERY good at keeping arguments or fights private; the gang only notices because those are the only times they’re not constantly around each other, beyond camp/gang duties. The fights never last long, and are never that serious - they're usually good and back to normal within a day or so.

Their most public fights are the ones they have when they’re drunk, and they only really consist of them fussing over each other. “Did you have any water, Len? I’ll grab you some water.” “Are you cold, Sean? Here, take this blanket” <- They’re both slurring, wobbling, and can’t see straight. The second one of them stands, the other is yelling at them to sit down bcz they’ll break a leg after two steps, so nothing actually gets done or fetched, unless it’s within arms reach (and that's usually more liquor). It’s a whole thing; they’re both of the mind that ‘No! You shouldn’t take care of me, you’re drunk, I’m taking care of YOU!’ and SURPRISE it’s like another competition where they can't let the other win. See Lenny grabbing Sean by the ankle while Sean's trying to drag himself towards the water canteen, and now they're yelling and wrestling in the dirt over it. It’s stupid but entertaining for anyone witnessing them, if nothing else <3

Sean has a tendency to get lost, and Lenny is usually the one who ends up looking for/finding him. Sometimes it’s not even that Sean is lost, just distracted, and Lenny will join him in whatever misadventure he’s found himself on. Other times that distraction means Lenny finding him in like a field 30 minutes from camp, and promptly laughing his ass off bcz Sean is high in a tree after pissing off a bull or smth.

#im just THROWING these out here!!! if yall have like any specific situations or versions of macsummers #that you wanna see me talk abt ur always welcome to ask for that too!!!#or for sean and/or lenny specific stuff. honestly im just honored yall are encouraging my ranting abt them lmao #these were FUN though lolol I hope you enjoy dear anon!!!#sean macguire #lenny summers #macsummers #lenny x sean #sean x lenny #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 headcanons #teki talks #rdr asks #asks #meta asks #ship asks #ship posting

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silentwillowwhisperer · 11 months

Text

Negotiating

I just watched the entirety of Owl House in 3 days, why is it over? My soul hurts.

——————————————

When Keith permanently steps back up as black paladin, he does it knowing he will have to step out of his comfort zone.

However, he would gladly never negotiate with an alien leader ever again.

Anytime someone turns to him, expecting an answer or comment on the conversation, he can’t help but freeze up. The others have already accepted that this is just Keith being incredibly socially awkward, but it’s still painful to watch.

Finally after a grand total of 3 separate occasions of watching Keith struggle, Lance steps in. He, along with the rest of the team, all know what Keith has to say, but the alien leaders always turn to Keith, completely ignoring the others.

This particular planet has a name too long for Lance to pronounce, but the regal queen sitting at the head of the conference table acts the same as any other upper-class individual.

At the moment, her cold, unnerving glare is set on Keith as she waits for him to gather himself enough to speak.

Lance beats him to it.

“Your imperial highness. It’s our k pleasure to be here with you, and if I may, I’ll start with the briefing.”

The queen is shikwe. She whips her head back and forth between Lance and Keith so hard that Lance knows that she’ll feel it tomorrow.

She sneers. “I was told that the black paladin is in charge. As his second, you should not be speaking out of turn.”

Keith is not at all impressed. He suddenly, his chair screeching backwards. His hands slam down on the table and all eyes turn to him.

“Lance is my right hand, and has as much of a right to be speaking as I do. If you’d like us to continue to aid you and your people, then you will not treat any one of my team like that, ever.”

Lance had been sinking down into his seat at the queens words, worried that he had cost them the alliance, but he should have known that Keith wouldn’t let that slide. As inept as he is with his words, his fiery temper gains him the respect and compliance of everyone around him, when applied correctly.

Keith sits back down and motions for Lance to continue, a small smile settling on his face.

Lance grins back and leads the meeting. He is not questioned after that.

It continues on like that on every planet they recruit.

Keith has small panic attacks during those meetings regularly, but they’ve gotten manageable since Lance took the reins.

Lance doesn’t mind at all, he has a way with people, and this role makes him feel useful. It helps that Keith mouths a small thank you to him and pats his hand after every meeting.

Over time, their small gestures grow until it’s not uncommon for them to hold hands under the table and tangle their legs together while making agreements with foreign races.

The comfort each other like that, and while they both know that it’s not just friendly, neither wants to ruin the good thing that they have going.

So they don’t acknowledge it, even when they become close enough to read each other’s minds on the battlefield and start to confide in each other.

They spend more time together than they do with anyone else, but it brings them closer than ever before.

It’s Lance who breaks first. While he can be a serious person when need be, he’s also a hopeless romantic. It hurts to have so much and yet so little with Keith.

It’s 12am earthtime (or so they think) and both boys are talking in the kitchen over Hunk’s space-modified version of hot chocolate.

“I like you! Will you go out with me?” Lance blurts out suddenly.

Lance expects Keith to offer one of those fleeting smiles, or reject him.

Instead, Keith ducks his head, and his ears turn red. (Hey that rhymed, yay me.)

“I… I really want to, Lance. We both know by now that what we have is not friendship. Not like what we have with the other paladins. But if I accepted… and then if something were to happen to you… I wouldn’t be able to live with it. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

Lance has the same worry deep in the bottomless pit of his mind, but it hurt to hear Keith say it. He tries to keep us heart intact and his tears in.

“Well, that’s too bad. Because my heart is already yours, and when we get onto earth, we are going to date LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE. Do you hear me? I’m not having my life be taken my this damned war, and I will date you like we deserve to. That’s how I know we will make it back. That’s how I know that you won’t go sacrificing yourself like you always do anymore, because if we are together then you’ll have to live. For me. So, for now, can we just be boyfriends?”

Keith stares at him long and hard. Lance can feel the anxiety and fear creeping through him as Keith keeps him trapped in that deep gaze.

“Fine. Yes. We can be… boyfriends, if you’re sure that you really want to date me.”

Lance shrieks with joy, which startles Keith, before tackling the black paladin to the ground.

“Yes! Of course I want you, and I promise this will be the best decision of your life, babe.”

Keith’s face turns a bright, blotchy red, but he’s too content in Lance’s arms to care.

#vld #voltron legendary defender #keith kogane #voltron #lance mcclain #klance #lance vld #keith vld #vld keith #tawny post

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russilton · 9 months

Note

oh mark I absolutely LOVE when you post your wips. Just read the Jeddah one and OMG I would spend hours reading it

It unfortunately probably wont be long enough to spend hours reading but im getting close with it! It only needs two more dialogue heavy scenes. But either way im seriously touched! You are always so v nice to me and for that you can have another snippet- because you are nice and not bc im slutty about people reading my fic

(Warning- Gewis and not very sexy pillow talk)

———

In the cold light of post coital come down, all Lewis can feel is how sticky they both are, skin tacking anywhere it touches in the humid air only made worse by the sweat they produced rutting together. His clothes feel damp and he doubts George feels much better, said man letting out a hiss through gritted teeth when Lewis finally pulls out.

At least George no longer looks angry at him, if anything he just seems exhausted, laying back against the couch and gazing up at Lewis as he sets about righting himself. The older driver tries his best to ignore the eyes on his back as he slips the condom off and wipes himself down best he can with the tissues he finds lying around on one of the little tables in his cramped room, the space only feeling smaller with Georges palpable expectation taking up space behind him. Lewis only turns back when he’s tucked himself back into his now cold, damp, underwear and thrown the soiled trash into the tiny garbage can by the door.

Now they’ve finished, now he’s fucked all the anger out of his body, all he can feel is yawning, empty space in his gut, a pit he’d been suitably distracted from when he could focus on the writhing rage and jealousy. He feels hollowed out, unable to mask the creeping anxiety that today's performance will become one of many, a pattern of slipping away from the apex. It had been easy to blame George for it all earlier, for standing in his way, for… for doing his job.

But now George is spent on the couch behind him, giving into Lewis the second he’d pressed and allowing him to seek respite from his too loud brain, he can’t bring himself to blame the other man, a guilty feeling settling heavily alongside the doubt.

Lewis wonders distantly if Sebastian ever felt like this when Mercedes’ dominance began, or if Seb was more pragmatic about it. If the German ever felt shame crawling up his legs, chasing each breath, or if the end came all at once.

When he looks up from tugging his trousers back over his hips, George is watching him still, haphazardly cleaning himself up while Lewis was stuck in his own mind. Now the lithe man is leaning back causally against the sofa, his own release wiped off his abs, something horribly observant behind those big blue eyes. The room feels claustrophobic now, like George can see through him to the flaws even sitting here, back in his shorts with his skin still covered in a mix of Lewis’ sweat and his own.

The not so distant memory of Nico using those same anxieties against him after far, far less roars loud and deafening in his mind.

“So-“ George begins, clearing his throat pointedly when it comes out rough, his calm but expectant voice making Lewis jump. “Can we talk about the race now?”

#asks #kissonthelips-blog #mark’s wips #full wets #for safety

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natashasfilms · 2 years

Text

Chapter Twelve - The Creel House

Summary: Returning to Hawkins for spring break, Aria is finally glad to be back at home to see her mom and friends. However, she soon finds out that the danger they’ve all faced before, is back yet again. This time, she may or may not fall at the center of it.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Original Female Character

Warnings: This story contains mature themes such as sexual content, strong language, violence, mentions of alcohol and drugs, blood, gore, and death.

Note: I imagine Aria Kaul as South Asian but I have decided to let you, the reader, imagine her appearance, hence the reason why I have not given her a face claim. However, her race does not affect the story, whatsoever. You, as the reader, are free to imagine her however you want. If you don’t see her as South Asian, then that’s fine. It won’t affect the storyline.

Series Masterlist

Sometime during the night, Aria and Steve went back downstairs. The pair sat on the floor, whispering to each other without waking the others up. Eventually, they woke up Dustin so he could be on Max watch. Soon, Aria and Steve fell asleep, not knowing exactly when.

Aria suddenly woke up to the voice of someone’s voice from the walkie-talkie, blinking the tiredness away. She slowly sat up and realized she had fallen asleep on Steve’s chest, getting flustered at the thought.

“Dustin?” The voice, Eddie, called out. She grabbed the walkie-talkie to talk. “Earth to Dustin.”

“Hey, it's Aria.” Aria spoke.

“Kaul! Hey.” Eddie responded. “Um, I'm gonna need a food delivery, like, really soon, unless you want me going out into the world.”

“No. No, no, no.” Aria stopped him. “Please don’t do that. Uh, just stay where you are, and we'll be there as soon as we can.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Eddie said. “Listen, um… can you pick me up a six-pack?” Aria rolled her eyes. “I know, it's stupid as shit, drinking right now, but a cold beer would really calm my jangled nerves.”

As Eddie was talking, she turned her head to look at Max, only to see that she wasn’t on the couch where she was supposed to be. “Hey, I'm gonna have to call you back.” She said frantically, turning the walkie-talkie off. She hit Dustin’s shoulders, waking him up. “Dustin!”

“Mm…” Dustin hummed.

“Wake up!”

“What?”

“Did I not leave you to be on Max watch?” Aria asked him angrily.

“Yep. Yep, yep, yep. Sorry.”

“Then where is she?”

“She's right there. A second ago.” Dustin said, checking his watch. “I swear, I just dozed off for…an hour.”

Aria and Dustin widened their eyes, quickly standing up and running upstairs. They opened the basement door and looked around, walking to the kitchen to see Max sitting at the dining table. Aria let out a relieved sigh, putting a hand over her heart.

“Morning, guys.” Karen greeted them. “Everything okay?”

Aria smiled at her. “Yeah. Yeah, everything's okay, Mrs. Wheeler.”

“I think it's so sweet that you guys are sticking together like this.” Karen told them, grinning at Aria.

“Could try sticking together at a different house for a change.” Ted said nonchalantly, to which Aria just ignored. Aria took a deep breath and walked over to Max, who was sitting next to Holly.

She sat down next to her, eyes gazing on the pictures she drew. “Hey, Max.”

“Hey.” Max looked up, giving Aria a small smile.

“You okay?”

“Just couldn't sleep.” She admitted. “People kept blasting music in my ears, for some reason.” Aria gave her a sheepish smile, silently telling her sorry. “But Holly let me borrow some of her crayons. We've been having fun, right, Holly?”

“Mm-hmm.” The little girl hummed.

Aria took a good look at her drawings. “Is this what you saw last night?”

“I mean, it's supposed to be.” Max answered. “I thought it'd be easier to draw it out than to explain it, but…Not so much.”

Aria slid a drawing with faces on it, narrowing her eyes. “Is that…?”

“It was like they were on display. And then there was this red fog everywhere.” Aria glanced at the redhead. “It was like a dream. A nightmare.”

“You think Vecna's just trying to scare you?”

“With Billy? Yeah. But when I made it here…I dunno, something was different. He seemed surprised, almost. Like he didn't want me there.”

“Maybe you infiltrated his mind.” Dustin said, sitting down at the table. “He invaded your mind, right? Is it that big a leap to suggest you somehow wound up in his?” Aria furrowed her brows, thinking over what Dustin said. “Like Freddie Krueger's boiler room.”

“Freddie Krueger?” Holly asked, giving Dustin a confused look.

“He's a super burned-up dude with razors for fingers.” Dustin began to ramble. “And he kills you in your dreams.”

“Dustin! Seriously?” Aria exclaimed, watching as Holly started to get scared.

“Sorry.” The boy apologized. “It's a movie. It's not real.” He looked back at Aria and Max. “Just…think about it. What if you somehow unlocked a backdoor to Vecna's world? Like, maybe the answer we're looking for is somewhere in this incredibly vague drawing.” He looked at one of Max’s drawings, criticizing it with his eyes. “God, we need Will.”

“No shit.” Max remarked. “But I tried them again this morning, and it's the same busy signal.”

Aria saw one of the drawings had a door with a rose on the window. She narrowed her eyes, trying to remember where she had seen it before. “Is this a window?”

“Yeah.” Max responded.

“Stained glass with roses.”

“Yeah. See?” Max looked at Dustin. “I'm not so terrible after all.”

“Yeah, well, it helps that I've seen it before.” Aria told them, bringing all of the drawings together to fold them into smaller pieces and outlining the outside with a sharpie to soon create a picture of a house.

“It's pieces of a house.” Max furrowed her brows.

“Not just any house.” Aria said, putting the door in the open space of the house. “It's Victor Creel's house.” She stood up from the table to walk back downstairs.

“Where you going?” Dustin asked.

“Waking the others.”

After waking up everyone else, Aria drove them all in her car to the Creel’s house. She had a feeling that all the answers would be here, that somehow the Creel’s are connected to Vecna in some way.

They got out of the car, walking towards the house. They saw the door blocked with wood so Aria and Steve started to take them down, one by one.

“What exactly are we supposed to be looking for in this shithole?” Steve asked Aria, turning his head for a second to face her before going back to taking down the nails from the wood with the hammer in his hand.

“We're not exactly sure.” Aria answered, using another hammer in her hands to get the nails off as well. “We just know this house is important to Vecna.”

“Because Max saw it in Vecna's red soup mind world?”

“Basically.”

“Great.”

“Maybe it holds a clue to where Vecna is.” Dustin spoke. “Why he's back. Why he killed the Creels. And how to stop him before he comes back for Max.”

“We don't think he's in here…” Lucas said slowly. “Do we?”

“Guess we'll find out.” Max responded.

They managed to take off all the nails so Steve looked at Aria, nodding his head. “Ready?”

“Mm-hmm.”

They slowly lifted the wood from the door, letting it fall into the ground. Aria looked at the rose on the window, pursing her lips.

“Aria…”

“What?” Aria turned around to look at the others.

They all looked at her confused. “What?” Steve asked.

Aria furrowed her eyebrows before shaking her head. “Oh, nothing. I thought someone said my name.”

Steve nodded his head, turning his head back to check the door knob. “It's locked. Should I knock, see if anybody's home?”

“No need.” Robin told them, showing them a brick. “I found a key.”

Aria looked at her, shrugging. “I was just going to kick the door down but…that works too I guess.”

Aria and Steve stepped back as Robin threw the brick at the window, glass shattering inside the house. Steve stepped up to the door, bringing his hand through the opening of the window to turn the door knob, opening the door for them.

They slowly walked inside, their eyes roaming around the dark house.

“Looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill.” Lucas said, attempting to turn on the lamp.

They all took out their flashlights, everyone except Steve who was very confused on where they all got them from. Dustin irritatingly threw him his bag so he could search for a flashlight himself.

They started to walk around, Aria with Nancy and Robin. “They just left everything.” Nancy said.

“I guess a triple homicide isn't good for resale value.” Robin answered. Aria tilted her head, raising an eyebrow at her words.

Max called them over, everyone walking over to her. “Hey, guys? You all see that, right?” They stood in front of an old grandfather clock.

“Yeah.”

“Is this what you saw?” Aria asked Max. “In your visions?”

“I mean, it's…just a clock.” Robin stated. “Right?” She walked over to it, wiping the dust from it. “Like a normal old clock.”

“Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?” Steve questioned. “Maybe he's, like, a clockmaker or something?” Aria rolled her eyes. Not a single thought goes through that brain of his.

“I think you cracked the case, Steve.” Dustin remarked.

“Whatever it is, it’s definitely important.” Aria said. “The answers are all here, somewhere.” She looked around, her eyes falling on Nancy and Robin. “Alright, everyone stay in groups of two. Nance, Robin, upstairs with me.”

The three girls walked upstairs, looking through the different rooms for any sort of clues. Aria kept looking, using her flashlight but found nothing. She knew the answers were here. She was sure of it.

Suddenly, she heard glass shatter and Steve running out of the room, aggressively dusting off his jacket. “Whoa, whoa. Hey” Aria exclaimed, walking up to him. “What's wrong?”

“There was a spider.” Steve breathed out. “It's a black widow.” He looked at her before rushing to close the door he just came out of. “Don't go in there.”

Aria nodded her head before her eyes fell on the spider and web stuck on the back of his head. “Wait, hold on.” She said, trying to use her hands to dust off the web from his hair.

“Something? Shit. Okay.” Steve asked, moving around frantically.

She held tight onto his shoulders to stop him. “Stop moving.” She said sternly. He obliged, standing very still as she used her hands to take off the spider and remaining dust and webs.

Steve felt his breath hitch as Aria’s fingers touched the skin below his hair. He suddenly forgot how to breathe at that moment.

“Okay, I got it. I got it.” Aria told him softly, picking the spider and throwing it onto the ground.

“Thank you.”

“If there's a spider, you're never gonna find it till it lays eggs and the babies spill out.” Robin chuckled.

“What's wrong with you?” Steve asked, annoyed. “Robin, seriously.” He sighed. “She's got problems.”

Aria chuckled. “Tell me about it.”

“It's cool you two are friends now.” Steve told her. “You, Nancy, and Robin.” Aria hummed. “Maybe after we find Vecna, kill him, save the world and stuff, maybe we can all go out.” Aria smiled at his words, the thought making her heart go insanely warm. “You know? Me, you, Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan, when he's back. You could also bring your boyfriend—“

“Boyfriend?” Aria asked, furrowing her eyebrows. Steve turned around, lips parted.

“Uh, I just thought that, I don’t know, you had a…a—“

“You assumed I had a boyfriend?” Aria raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh at his assumption. He sheepishly nodded his head. “I don’t have a boyfriend.” Aria laughed.

He pursed his lips. In truth, he didn’t actually know if she had a boyfriend but he thought it was insane that she didn’t have one. He was a little shocked at the fact of her still being single but nonetheless, it made him feel relieved. “Uh, oh that’s cool. I mean, that’s nice. I mean, not nice, that’s…it’s nice to know—wait, shit…”

Aria giggled. “No, it’s okay, I get it.”

Steve’s eyes met hers, his heart skipping a beat. He turned back around to let her resume her work. “Um, also, it’s not like we're dating.” He said. “Me and Robin. Not like we're dating. She told you? That we're not?”

“Yes. She made that very clear.” Aria reassured him.

“Platonic with a capital P.” Robin exclaimed.

“Yep. Thank you.” Steve yelled out. “I mean…I would date her.” Her heart dropped. “It's just…She's…We're just…Never mind. We're friends.”

“Right.” Aria nodded her head. She made sure all the dust was gone from his hair, her fingers lingering on his skin for a few more seconds until she let go. “Okay. All better.”

Steve turned back around, eyes meeting hers once again. “Great. Thanks.” He chuckled, stepping closer. “Well…Great. Um…”

Aria held back a smile, staring into his eyes. She could feel the bottom of his jacket touch the tips of her fingers.

“Guess we should, uh, get back to the investigation.” Steve said. She nodded her head, agreeing. “‘The obvious things are not what people observe.’ Or…’Do…Don't observe.’” Aria looked at him, confused. “Or…Sherlock Holmes.” He walked away, leaving the girl alone to her thoughts.

“What?” Aria whispered, not knowing what just happened.

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington series #angst #fluff #reticent series #steve harrington x aria kaul #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic

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careless-with-your-heart · 1 year

Text

Oceans Between

I fell in lovе with a girl that is on life support.

Oh, I'd been wandering 'round these halls myself

Am I the one that needs a doctor?

I need some help.

What if she doesn't need

All of the wires and machines?

What if I break her free?

Well, she belongs with me...

***

Olivia is floating. The room is cold, but she doesn’t mind it—in fact, she doesn’t mind much of anything. She’s drifting on a cloud, floating in an amorphous space that has no detail behind her closed eyes.

Then, the pain comes. It’s a stabbing, piercing pain in the back of her neck, and it makes something that feels like electrical current zip down her spine. Her throat constricts. The cloud goes away, and the amorphous space takes shape—it’s now a box, close and claustrophobic, dark and sweltering, filled with pins and needles, closing around her, fast.

“Retractors,” a deep baritone instructs. “Quickly.”

The tips of Olivia’s fingers begin to feel hot.

The pain at the back of her neck widens, as though whatever has stabbed her is making slow, spreading circles, the point at which it jams into her flesh a nadir of agony. Olivia can smell blood. She can feel her heartbeat in the nape of her neck, where the sizzle of electricity is only growing more intense.

“Port,” the baritone says. “On three. One, two—"

Pressure, and then, Olivia comes to know what real pain is. She screams.

When she tries to reach back, to discover the source of the anguish, Olivia can’t move either of her hands—her wrists are held down by straps that flex, but do not give as she struggles against them.

She still can’t open her eyes.

Peter… she thinks wildly, desperately. Maybe she says it out loud, because someone close laughs, and then, there’s a voice next to her ear. There is a hardness even in his soft accent.

“Peter’s not here, my dear. No one is coming. Just relax. It’ll be over soon.”

Walter?

She tries to move her head, but she can’t. That, too, has been rendered immobile. She’s aware that she’s lying somewhere, face-down, and she can’t shake the feeling of suspension, even though the cloud is gone.

Olivia concentrates.

“Her core temp just spiked two degrees.”

That voice is not familiar—Olivia can’t tell who the other is, who the deep baritone is coming from. But the words, the spike of heat, both make her think of how she and Peter had connected at the lab, how he had tried to calm her when she’d been anxious. Olivia casts out her reeling mind again for him, trying to reach him in some between-world so that he can find her.

Olivia isn’t sure what Peter would be walking into—where she is, who’s in the room, what weapons or dangers surround her are all mysteries—but she knows he’ll come, even if he doesn’t know the dangers. Walter will help him—Astrid, Lincoln, they’ll help save her.

She can’t sit idle, though.

Now is okay. It’s okay to use the powers.

“Another dose of sedative, immediately,” Walter—no, Secretary Bishop, she realizes suddenly—says.

There’s an ache, a pressure in the crook of her right elbow. The soft clank of something wheeled, metal. Olivia shifts her arm, can feel the IV there. They must have pushed something new into the tubing, must have…

Now. It’s okay. Burn them.

Olivia tries to race whatever they’ve put into her before the cloud comes back. She splays her fingers, pushes with all her might, imagining heat coming up from her heart and through her arms. She pictures the heat roaring from her fingertips, flame and ash, leaving nothing unscorched.

After three full seconds of intense concentration, she opens her eyes. She is staring down at a glaringly white tile floor, the squares so neatly together that she can barely make out the individual pieces.

The pain at the back of her neck dulls, but now she can feel the warm slide of something new. As she watches in horror, three fat, dark drops of blood drip from what she assumes is her chin, their contrast startling on the tile below her.

The heat in her begins to fade. As the sedative takes hold, again, Olivia thinks that she can almost see Peter’s profile in the Rorschach shapes of her blood against the stark white.

Peter, she thinks before the white fades to black. Peter, come find me.

Read more here @ AO3: I'm Found in the Water by CarelessWithYourHeart

#fringe #fringefox #fanfic #au #polivia #ao3fic #olivia dunham #peter bishop #otp: you belong with me #otp: burn it all down #otp: time for a daring rescue #fanfiction

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kazeofthemagun · 2 years

Text

@shiroi---kumo asked the summoner:

It's dark and they've had to come to stop for the night.

They've had to stop and make a small campsite out in the wilds of Wonderland because they have come to learn the hard way they aren't welcomed within the space of society. All the surrounding towns have been the same and they all end with the Unlimited finding themselves uncomfortable with the talk of the town locals before the pair of them end up fleeing from town as quickly as possible.

At least they managed to refill on some much needed supplies.

The crackle of the fire fills the place between and the Misterican is bringing himself to set down - not on the opposite side of the fire as he usually would - but directly next to his counterpart.

"It's cold tonight." He comments, his words falling with the smallest shiver from his lips and it's in that moment that the white clad man leans.

He allows himself to lean up against the body of the Dark's Unlimited as he once did when he was a child and they would spend the night reading novels in the cabin. His eyes are falling closed as his lips part again and he near roars releasing a loud yawn. He's tired and all this travel is not helping. He shifts himself a bit closer and leans his weight in a bit more. There was no invitation but there was also no ask for permission.

The prince has just boldly acted. He'll be sleeping here tonight. He doesn't need to ask about next watch. It's nearly never his turn, so he'll just settle in like this.

The lazy crackle of flame and the occasional chirping of insect life were the only sounds to accompany the quiet evening. The world felt calmer - stiller. Nights spent by the campfire could not compare to resting in a proper bed, and yet with how little the gunmage slept at all these days, the thought of comfort was one that hardly occupied his mind. Sleeping on the ground was second nature, had always been so for him. Winds knew they were not welcome in town anyway.

Surely, there were sectors that could care less about Gaudium's most wanted - or a myth of pale death given flesh - and they could breathe easier there. As of now, their reality was rather bleak indeed, with every brush with civilization carrying risk. Not that they were not hunted outside of it as well.

Though the soft warmth of the fire did not erase those concerns, it helped move them aside if but for a fleeting moment.

The sound of his counterpart's voice saw the Windarian's gaze shift just in time to catch the prince's posture changing, a smaller frame leaning lightly against the thick cape that covered the summoner's form. A mighty yawn and a few wordless seconds simply sitting like so - the Misterican seemingly testing the waters before inching a tad closer and leaning in fully.

How natural such behavior was for a Windarian tempered by cold desert nights. White Cloud, however, was more comfortable with the cold than he and his race, and though a subtle shiver and standing hairs disproved such a notion, a part of Kaze did briefly wonder whether the evening chill was but an excuse to sit near and let a body dressed in white rest closer to one dressed in black. Touch starvation - hardly surprising. Mundane affection. It was evident the Misterican could not survive without it.

Could anyone?

Black Wind did not question. The dim orange light sectioned off a tiny fragment of Wonderland just for them where worries vacated the mind. No need to think. Mechanically, blue eyes continued to scan the dark where light did not reach, but the motion was more instinct than alarm. To watch was his instinct. Who better to keep vigil than the bearer of the nine-eyed Beast? The woods were peaceful and unmoving. Calm. It felt calm.

...Felt like home.

An arm lifted, though hardly to push the other away. Rather, it only draped dark cloth over them both, wrapping the swordsman's opposite shoulder before retreating to the side of the gunman.

Something inside ached. But the flicker of fire said, live in the moment.

#shiroi---kumo #:)#[[Shining like the Younger Moon ║ White Cloud #[[ask response #kaze is slowly letting me write more stuff have a cute bittersweet ;u;#[[ARC: The Creeping Shadows of Anarchy #[[He's a mystery. A destroyer. A man with a single-minded mission - Main Verse~

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kamaandhallie · 4 months

Text

The Dark Lord and the Savior: Chapter 4

Wander Over Yonder x Star Wars x Dune crossover fanfic

Chapter 4: The Targets

The Executor-class Star Dreadnought, more commonly known as the Super Star Destroyer, hovered through the vast emptiness of space, surrounded by dozens of significantly tinier Star Destroyers that were themselves surrounded by squadrons of TIE Fighters patrolling the area. From the command bridge of the Super Star Destroyer, Admiral Karus, commander of the ship and leader of the galactic conquest just below Darth Vader himself, stared out the window to the blackness of space that was riddled with stars and Star Destroyers flying all around.

As he stared out the window, the Admiral contemplated this new galaxy, particularly just how small yet vast it was. The planets of this galaxy were all much tinier than the ones back in his home galaxy, to the point that a lot of them could barely really be considered planets, more oversized asteroids, and even their smallest Star Destroyers dwarf them. Not only are the planets and systems small, but they are impossibly close to each other, to the point that they’ve rarely ever had to use hyperspace most of the time. So despite the vastness of this galaxy, conquering it should be a breeze for the Empire, especially since most of the inhabitants seem pretty defenseless. Unfortunately for them, there have been several complications getting in their way, from smaller local conquerors like Lord Hater and an evil sandwich of all things, and now they had equally big, if not bigger competition looking to conquer the galaxy as well.

To make matters worse, Karus had just received some troubling news not too long ago, something he knows Lord Vader would eventually need to hear, but anyone who’s worked in the Imperial Armada long enough will know that Vader does not take bad news well, especially if you were the cause. He was nowhere near responsible for what happened, but with Lord Vader’s anger, you can never be sure. He supposed there was no point delaying the inevitable, so he turned around and left the command bridge.

The Admiral entered Lord Vader’s meditation chamber, a dark room with very few sources of light, the biggest of which was the life support pod Vader was in right now. The top part of the pod was lifted to reveal its insides, and for a brief moment, Admiral Karus could see Vader’s bald pale head before it was covered up by his helmet put on by the many types of machinery inside the pod. Vader’s chair spun around slowly to face Karus, with the man himself sitting calmly and staring at him with his dark expressionless mask.

“What is it, Admiral?” Vader asked in his cold robotic voice.

“Lord Vader, we’ve just received news from a Commander Dannin. It appears Admiral Dramar and his Star Destroyer have been destroyed, and the system he’s been assigned to has also been taken…by Lord Hater,” Karus answered, trying to hide his worried tone behind his professional behavior.

“Is that so?” Vader said, still in his cold emotionless voice.

“Lord Vader, we must try hunting Lord Hater down, this is the second time he has ruined our invasions and destroyed our forces. If he managed to take down Admiral Dramar, surely we–”

“Admiral Dramar was as ambitious as he was careless, he was bound to fall to such a fate sooner or later. We will not be wasting our resources on Lord Hater,” Vader interrupted.

“But, my lord…”

“Have you forgotten we are dealing with a much bigger problem than Lord Hater? We are in a race against time here, Admiral. I will not lose this galaxy to Emperor Muad’Dib. Our own Emperor is not forgiving to those who fail to get him what he wants. Continue focusing your fleets on the invasion as usual, and eliminate any sign of Muad’Dib’s forces.”

“But something must be done about Lord Hater! As well as those two vagabonds, Wander and Sylvia. They are a constant thorn in the side of our conquest, and they will soon be a problem if left unchecked for too long,” Karus said.

“I am aware of that, Admiral. Put out a target on Wander and Lord Hater, and place a bounty on them as well if you need to, let everyone who works under us know to destroy them on sight. I do not want to hear any news about Lord Hater again,” Vader replied. “Besides, I hear that Emperor Muad’Dib is also hunting them down. Soon there will be no place left in this galaxy for them to hide, this problem will take care of itself sooner or later.”

“Yes, my lord.” Admiral Karus said and bowed his head.

The Admiral then left the room, and Vader’s chair rotated back to its original position as his meditation pod closed up again.

Once Admiral Karus returned to the command bridge, he immediately called out to one of his subordinates. “You! Send a message to all our troops and fleets in this galaxy! Tell them to look out for the fugitives Wander and Sylvia and also watch for Lord Hater! Tell them that if they see either of them, destroy them on sight!”

As soon as his subordinates heard this, they immediately transmitted the order, sending out wanted poster holograms of Wander and Sylvia as well as Lord Hater, together with the instructions to destroy on sight. It didn’t take long before every Star Destroyer, every Imperial officer, and every Stormtrooper battalion got the message.

Karus spoke again, though this time mostly to himself. “Those thorns in our side must be destroyed as soon as possible! I will not let the expansion of our great Empire be thwarted by a singing vagabond and a terrible excuse for a conqueror, and I will certainly not lose it to Emperor Muad’Dib!”

Far away from where the Super Star Destroyer was, on a distant bright planet, Wander and Sylvia had just finished eating at a diner in the town they were passing by. Wander had just finished his bowl of salad, while Sylvia was having her last bite of jellyfish pie. As Sylvia chewed up the last bite, she wiped off the crumbs around her mouth.

“Gor, almighty. This jellyfish pie might not be as good as the one in Slarnack’s Deli, but it’s still pretty darn good.” Sylvia said with a smile.

It was nice to enjoy the simpler things again after facing two crazy villains in a row, it helped Sylvia take her mind off things for a while. For the last few days, Sylvia wasn’t able to get rid of the worry she had for Vader and Paul, especially for Paul, he seemed pretty deadest on taking over this galaxy and bending it to his will. Over the past few weeks, Wander and her have been seeing more and more of Vader’s Star Destroyers and Paul’s Heighliners in a few systems they’ve visited. It seemed like everywhere she went, she’d see more Imperial flags or Atreides banners hanging on the walls of the towns of each planet, and a few times she’d even see statues of Paul erected in spots for everyone to see, and that’s not even counting their several run-ins with Stormtroopers and Fremen soldiers. But Wander and her have faced many dangers together, they even saved the galaxy from total destruction when Dominator showed up, and if they can get through that, they can surely get through this too.

“I do agree that was a fine and dandy meal, Sylvia. Shall we hit the road again?” Wander asked, gesturing out the window.

“Sure thing, buddy. Just let me pay for the food real quick.” Sylvia said as she reached for some money in her bag.

After Sylvia finished paying for their meal, she and Wander stepped outside the diner, but something felt off, it seemed darker than when they came in less than an hour ago. Their confusion was gone when they looked up to see a Star Destroyer hovering above the planet and blocking out the sky. Wander and Sylvia panicked even more when they heard the thundering march of hundreds of feet growing closer, and as they looked down the street they saw a Stormtrooper army heading their way. Sylvia grabbed Wander and ducked into the alleyway beside the diner, hiding behind some garbage cans as the legions of stormtroopers marched past them. Sylvia poked her head out to see what was going on, and as she did, a hover tank appeared into view amid the passing battalion, sticking out of the top of the tank was a stormtrooper with a red pauldron watching the march. He then pulled out a device from his pocket, looking like he had just received a message, and as he turned on the device, it projected a blue hologram of two figures with red letters in front of them. Sylvia couldn’t see who the figures were at first since she was pretty far away, but as she squinted her eyes more she realized who they were. The hologram was of her and Wander, and Sylvia didn’t know what the red letters said, but she knew it wasn’t anything good, especially after the commander stormtrooper shared the message with his army and told them to keep an open eye.

“Oh, grop…” Sylvia murmured nervously as her eyes widened. “Wander, we gotta get off this planet fast.”

Ever since Wander gave the Stormtroopers shooting lessons on Goolopia, their aim has improved significantly, so that’s one major window of survival completely shut off. Sylvia looked around to find a way to escape, but it seemed there were very few options. They can’t fly out with their orbble since a Star Destroyer is blocking the sky, and the borders of the city have now been barricaded. Sylvia then tried to look for other escape options within the town, and she found two possible candidates, one are the public transport ships leaving the planet and the interdimensional door in the town square, both of which might get them to the Space Train Station, and the space coasters will help get them as far away from Empire territory as quickly as possible. The problem is that both of those things are guarded by Stormtroopers who inspect every person thoroughly before letting them pass, which is gonna be hard to get through, and that’s if they’re lucky enough to pass through the streets since they’re crawling with Stormtroopers.

Sylvia was honestly confused as to how to get through this situation, and she was a lot more scared for herself and Wander this time because this wasn’t like dealing with the Watchdogs where they’d get captured but there was still hope of escape, these Stormtroopers will destroy them on sight, meaning one wrong step and it’ll be over. The only thing she could be thankful about in this situation was that they weren’t dealing with the Fremen, because those guys are a lot more ruthless than Stormtroopers, and they’ll slaughter anything in their path if they feel like it.

Suddenly, an idea popped into Sylvia’s head. There’s one good thing about Stormtroopers that can give them a better advantage than when dealing with Watchdogs or Dom-Bots, that being nobody ever actually sees under them. Sylvia waited behind the garbage cans for the opportune moment, and it came pretty quickly. Two Stormtroopers passed by the alleyway Wander and Sylvia were in, and Sylvia quickly yanked the two armored soldiers into the alley and knocked them out just as fast, then took their armors off, revealing the very plain ordinary-looking human men underneath. Sylvia put the armor on herself and Wander, and even though their proportions looked way off for Stormtroopers, Wander especially with his short size, Sylvia figured it should be enough for her plan to work.

The two nomads peeked out of the alley with their stormtrooper armor on, but not before Wander provided blankets and pillows for the knocked-out armorless stormtroopers, even placing ice packs on the bruises where Sylvia hit them. The blue zbornak analyzed the streets, carefully planning their escape route, and she found it.

“Alright, Wander, here’s the plan. We’ll march through the streets, just acting like regular stern, quiet Stormtroopers, sir!…” Sylvia said while doing a salute and soldier voice. “…and then we’ll sneak into the trunk of one of those shuttles that take us straight to the Space Train Station, and we’ll be home free!” Sylvia declared confidently, before dropping it and getting down to eye-level with Wander. “Now look, buddy, I know you’re gonna see someone out there in trouble and you’re gonna wanna help ‘em and all, but I’m asking you for once just please, please stick close and listen to me! Those troopers out there are not gonna hesitate to destroy you on sight, and the Fremen warriors are even worse so let’s just be thankful we’re not dealing with them. So please don’t do anything stupid because if you get in trouble and I can’t help you in time, I…” Sylvia cut herself off before she could finish that sentence.

Wander looked at his best friend sadly, he felt pretty bad that he made her really scared and worried, but it’s not really like he could help it with his constant need to help those in need. But he could see the worry in Sylvia’s eyes, and he didn’t want to hurt his friend, so Wander sighed and then smiled at her, pulling her in for a hug.

“Alright, Sylvia. I promise I won’t wander off.” Wander said in his hug with Sylvia, which got a warm smile from her before it disappeared when she noticed what Wander just said. “Aahh, see what I did there?” Wander asked with a cheeky smile.

Sylvia stared at Wander with an unamused look, but after a few seconds, she warmed up again and chuckled. “Alright, buddy. Let’s get outta here.” Sylvia said as she and Wander put on the Stormtrooper helmets.

Wander and Sylvia walked out of the alley in their full Stormtrooper armor, imitating the stride and the blaster hold of all the other Stormtroopers around them. Sylvia didn’t know how long these disguises were gonna fool them considering how awkwardly the armor actually fits her and Wander, but considering no one has looked their way so far, it seems to be doing a fairly decent job. If all goes well, they should be able to reach the shuttle ships in no time at all, though for some reason Sylvia felt that wasn’t going to be the case.

Wander marched right behind Sylvia, doing an exaggerated military march, while constantly reminding himself “ Do not wander off, Wander. Do not wander off, Wander ,” in a whispered tone. Around them, hundreds of Stormtroopers patrolled the streets, a lot of them in squads, some taking care of traffic, and others guarding important spots like the radio the borders, and the spaceport they were sneaking into. Wander was kind of surprised not a single Stormtrooper had noticed their disguises, considering how unconvincing they were. Maybe attentiveness wasn’t a Stormtrooper’s strong suit, aiming certainly wasn’t before Wander tried teaching them.

Wander then saw to his right a squad of Stormtroopers marching down the street, but a group of purple alien kids stood in their way, barely getting out of the way in time. A little girl in the group who was eating ice cream stood too close to the marching troopers, and one of them shoved the little purple girl out of the way, causing her to fall to the ground and drop her ice cream. When she saw her dropped frozen treat, the little girl started crying uncontrollably, while the marching Stormtroopers walked on like nothing ever happened.

The moment Wander saw this, his helping instinct immediately went haywire. He desperately wants to run over to the crying little girl and help make her feel better, but he’s already promised Sylvia to not run off, especially since they’re in disguises now. Wander frantically looked back and forth between Sylvia in front of him and the little purple girl, sweat dripping down his face like crazy. Finally, Wander snapped and sped off to the little girl, promising himself he’d be back with Sylvia as quickly as he could. When Wander stopped in front of the crying little girl, she backed away from Wander, which he realized was because of his Stormtrooper disguise. Wander quickly calmed her down, and pulled a brand new ice cream out of his hat which he hid in his armor, giving it to the girl, who now stopped crying and had a big smile on her face.

“Thank you,” the girl said before leaving.

“Never hurts to help!” Wander said cheerfully from within his Stormtrooper mask. Wander was now ready to leave, it seemed his plan went smoothly, and he’ll be right back with Sylvia before she even notices he’s gone. But before he could even turn around, something made him stop dead in his tracks.

“You! Soldier! What do you think you’re doing?!” a voice behind Wander shouted, causing him to freeze in place.

Wander slowly turned around, and saw two people approaching him. One was a Stormtrooper with an orange pauldron on his shoulder, and the other was a young Imperial officer in a black uniform. They both looked pretty displeased, even if Wander couldn’t see the Stormtrooper’s face.

“Who? What? Me?” Wander asked nervously.

“Yes, you! What were you doing just now?!” the Imperial officer asked, his tone becoming angrier.

“I was just, uh…giving some ice cream to this little girl. She dropped hers so I gave her a new one.” Wander answered, growing more nervous.

“And why would you do something like that?! You’re a Stormtrooper, not an ice cream vendor!” the officer yelled. “Speaking of which, aren’t you a little small for a Stormtrooper? Where are you from?” he asked again.

“Well…I’m just kinda shorter than usual. Nothin’ to worry about there, right?” Wander answered again, trying to figure a way out of this situation.

“What is your service number?” the Stormtrooper asked him.

“M-my service number?”

On the other side of the streets, Sylvia was still marching through. Wearing this armor was actually quite tiresome, and she had no idea how much longer it would fool people or she could take wearing it. Not only was her body not proportionate at all to fit the armor, making it look very awkward, but she also had to try to hide her tail as that would be the biggest giveaway, and there was nowhere she could really hide it. Luckily, Sylvia could see they were getting close to the space buses, one step closer to safety.

“Haha! You see that, Wander? We’re almost sa–” Sylvia said happily as she looked back behind her, only to cut off when she saw Wander had disappeared. “Oh, of course! Flabdrass it! I should’ve learned by now!”

Sylvia frantically looked around the streets to see any sign of Wander, a little furry orange spoon-shaped guy with a big hat shouldn’t be too hard to spot in a crowd like this. “Wander? Wander!” she called out.

Sylvia eventually spotted Wander somewhere to her right, and she was about to be relieved until she noticed that in front of him was a Stormtrooper and an Imperial officer talking to him. “Oh, no…”

On the other side, Wander was still trying to answer the Stormtrooper’s question. His lack of knowledge coupled with his nervousness made it hard to answer. “Let’s see, service number. I think it was 8…16…20…13…” Wander threw out random numbers hoping it would work, but it looks like it didn’t.

“I think you’re gonna have to come with us, soldier. Let us do a proper inspection on you,” the young Imperial officer said.

Wander gulped in fear. This was it, there was no way he was getting out of this. But luckily, help came just in time.

“ Wait !” a voice yelled out.

That voice came from Sylvia, wearing her Stormtrooper armor and rushing towards Wander, and stopping just in front of him and the Stormtrooper and Imperial officer. “Hehe, sorry, sirs. The little pipsqueak’s with me. New recruit and all, doesn’t know how stuff works. We’re supposed to be guarding those space shuttles over there.” Sylvia explained to the two officers and pointed to her and Wander’s destination while deepening her voice a bit to sound more like a typical Stormtrooper.

The Imperial officer and the Stormtrooper captain stared at Wander and Sylvia for a few seconds but ultimately decided to leave them alone. Not before a scolding, of course.

“Watch your subordinates more closely next time! I do not want any incidents like this again that will make our great Empire look like a joke! Now get back to your posts!” the Imperial noncom officer warned Sylvia before storming off with the Stormtrooper, and Sylvia had to resist the urge to blow a raspberry at him behind his back because of his ‘Great Empire’ schtick.

After the two officers leave, Sylvia immediately grabs Wander tightly by the shoulders and turns him towards her, pressing her helmet-covered face against his. “Wander! I just told you specifically not to leave my side! You just promised yourself too!” Sylvia scolded in a whispered tone.

“Sorry, Syl. I just saw that little girl get pushed by Stormtroopers and dropped her ice cream, I couldn’t just leave her crying like that.” Wander explained shamefully.

“Wander, what if I didn’t notice you were gone until it was too late?! What if you were taken away before I found you?!” Sylvia scolded in a slightly louder tone.

Wander said nothing, and eventually just turned his head away and looked down. Even though Sylvia couldn’t see Wander’s face, she could tell how sad he looked under that helmet. Sylvia sighed and managed to calm herself down.

“Sorry I yelled at you, buddy. I was just worried, that's all.” Sylvia said in a more relaxed caring tone as she pulled Wander in for a hug.

“And I’m sorry for worryin’ ya, Syl.” Wander said as he hugged Sylvia back, and they both smiled and closed their eyes as they embraced each other.

They remained silent for a few seconds before Sylvia opened her eyes and realized there were a pair of Stormtroopers staring at them awkwardly.

“What’re you weirdos lookin’ at? Never seen two Stormtroopers hug it out before?” Sylvia shouted at the pair. The troopers then looked at each other, shrugged, and marched away.

“Alright, we’re pretty close to our getaway, and try to stick closely this time, Wander. If next time we were dealing with Fremen, they’re not gonna let us off as easily as Stormtroopers do, so please try to be careful.” Sylvia said.

Wander and Sylvia continued marching through the streets, heading towards their intended target point, and miraculously, there wasn’t another thing that happened to distract Wander, which is impressive since it’s nearly impossible for a Stormtrooper-occupied planet to not have something bad going on. Now, Wander and Sylvia were just across the street from the shuttle ships, so close to escaping and freedom. They crossed the street and marched past the Stormtrooper security guards who were inspecting every passenger about to board the shuttles. While no one was looking, Wander and Sylvia quickly took off their Stormtrooper armors, jumped into the trunk of one of the shuttles, and closed it, hiding among the many suitcases. Then, the shuttle took off from the ground and flew up into the sky, passed under the Star Destroyer, and reached space. Nobody seemed to notice them.

After a while, the shuttle finally came to a stop and reached the Space Train Station. Once it stopped, the trunk swung open and Wander and Sylvia leaped out of the pile of suitcases.

“ Woohoo! ” They both cheered.

“We made it, Syl!” Wander exclaimed excitedly.

“We sure did, buddy. We sure did.” Sylvia patted Wander on the head. “So long Stormtroopers, we’re outta here!” she announced to nobody.

“Kind of a shame we couldn’t help the people on that planet, huh?” Wander said as he looked back sadly.

“Hey, don’t worry, we’ll help them later. But we can’t help others if we can’t even help ourselves.” Sylvia said. “Let’s just focus on getting as far away from Empire territory as possible.”

“But…”

“Yeah?” Sylvia asked, looking back at Wander.

“…no, nothing. You’re right, Syl.”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up over it, buddy. Ya can’t help everyone all the time, but we’ll get another chance.”

Wander and Sylvia started to walk into the station, but soon noticed something about it felt off. It looked the same and was still as crowded as ever, yet it just didn’t feel right. It’s not chaotic in the usual way. They soon came across several long lines of people who were waiting in queue for a bunch of ticket booths that led to the rest of the station.

“That’s weird, I don’t remember those ticket booths ever being there,” Sylvia said, eyeing the booths skeptically.

“Maybe it’s a new add-on for the station?” Wander suggested.

“I don’t know, something about this feels–” Sylvia said before stopping dead in her tracks and gasping.

Next to each of the booths stood Stormtrooper security guards that either guarded the gates and booths or were inspecting the luggage of each passenger trying to get into the station, some of the passengers were even blocked and dragged away to a corner of the station with some other rejected passengers next to big shuttle ships to be prepared to be taken back to the planets they came from. Speaking of the booths, Sylvia could finally see the people inside them, they were Imperial officers, and they were either offering tickets or interrogating and dismissing passengers.

“Oh, Grop! There are Stormtroopers here too?!” Sylvia exclaimed worriedly.

“Seems that way, Syl.” Wander confirmed.

“Grrgghh! But we just escaped Stormtroopers! What are we gonna do?!”

“Don’t worry, buddy. I think my hat will have a solution.” Wander said as he reached into his hat, and pulled out two disguises.

Sylvia just stared at the disguises in confusion. “Wander, there’s no way those are gonna work.”

“You two! Turn around!” the voice of a Stormtrooper shouted behind them.

Sylvia immediately put on the disguises in a panic, Wander did the same, and they both turned around to face the Stormtrooper who was approaching them. Sylvia was sure the disguise wouldn’t work.

“No loitering around the station. What is your business here?” the Stormtrooper asked.

“Well, uh, to ride trains, obviously,” Sylvia answered, altering her voice a bit.

The Stormtrooper stared at Sylvia silently, and the tension between them grew thicker as Sylvia started to sweat nervously. Sylvia shifted her eyes nervously as the Stormtrooper continued to stare at her silently, unmoving, and she kept thinking to herself Oh, Grop. Is he seeing through us? The silence was starting to become deafening before it was finally broken by the Stormtrooper.

“Oh yeah, duh, you’re right. Why did I even ask that?” the Stormtrooper said to himself and smacked himself lightly on his helmet’s forehead. “But loitering still isn’t allowed, so if you wanna ride a train, you’re gonna have to wait in line and pay for a ticket from one of those booths like everybody else,” the trooper pointed to one of the long lines, which, like all the other lines, seemed to be moving at a pretty slow rate due to there constantly being some drama or complication going on at the ticket booth.

“Strange, I don’t remember ticket booths like those being there the last time we were here,” Sylvia said, half playing innocent and half genuinely curious.

“Well, things change. Now get in line, you two,” the Stormtrooper ordered Wander and Sylvia, and they both stepped to the back of one of the long queues.

“Why, thank ya very much for your help, kind sir.” Wander said as he tipped his head and did a short bow.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t mention it,” the Stormtrooper dismissed Wander’s sayings before walking off to continue his duties, leaving Wander and Sylvia with their Groucho Glasses disguises behind the queue.

“Well, whaddya know. These disguises actually work.” Sylvia remarked about the disguises they were wearing, genuinely impressed.

“Sometimes the simplest things can be of the greatest help!” Wander happily reminded Sylvia.

Sylvia smiled and rolled her eyes at what Wander said, he was often right, but that doesn’t mean Sylvia doesn’t still get confused or roll her eyes at what Wander says or does. “Yeah, I guess so, pal.”

Wander and Sylvia stood in the line, surrounded by many miserable-looking aliens. Sylvia then turned to Wander.

“Alright, Wander. I’m sorry I keep repeating this, but don’t leave my side, alright? This station is packed with people and Stormtroopers, and it’s easy to get lost here. You already did it once today, but please don’t do it again. I’m serious, buddy, we’re literally in a tight space surrounded by enemies actively tryin’ to kill us! So just try to think about keeping yourself safe for once, alright?” Sylvia tried to tell Wander as warmly as she could. But instead of Wander’s reassuring smile she was expecting, the little fuzzy nomad instead started snickering, trying to hold back laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Sylvia asked.

“Sorry, Syl, but I jus’ can’t take what you’re saying seriously with those silly glasses on,” Wander answered, pointing at the Groucho Glasses that were still on Sylvia’s face the whole time.

“Ugh, seriously, Wander. Couldn’t ya have picked a better disguise?” Sylvia groaned as she remembered what she was wearing.

“Hey, if it works, it works,” Wander said before smiling with his tongue stuck out.

Sylvia stared at Wander’s Groucho Glasses-covered face, and Wander stared back at hers. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments, before they started snickering at each other’s faces, and then eventually laughing uncontrollably, even falling to their backs on the floor and busting a gut.

“Hey!” they heard the voice of a Stormtrooper yell, which caused them to immediately stop laughing. “You two move it! You’re holding back the line!”

Wander and Sylvia looked in the direction the Stormtrooper was pointing and found out that the line in front of them had moved quite a few steps forward, leaving a large space which Sylvia was surprised no one had tried to take yet. Then behind them, they could hear the angry complaints of people in the back of the line telling the nomads to move forward.

“C’mon, we haven’t got all day! Ya think we wanna be here?” the man right behind them said, who was a large and buff green one-eyed alien.

“Oh, sorry about this, sir,” Wander said politely.

“Alright, alright, we’ll move,” Sylvia said as she picked up Wander and moved the line along. After they finished moving the line, Sylvia put Wander back on the ground to continue what she was saying. “Okay, but seriously, buddy, don’t wander off again.”

“Don’t worry, buddy. Wander won’t wander over yonder.” Wander joked.

“Stop it.”

“Alright, alright, Syl.” Wander grinned widely.

Wander and Sylvia stood in line, which moved as slow as they initially thought it did. Sylvia was quickly getting bored as well as getting increasingly wary as she did not know how long it would be before a Stormtrooper saw past their disguise. Wander was also getting bored, and he was starting to fidget a lot, from rapidly tapping his finger on his leg and rubbing his shoe on the floor back and forth. Sylvia couldn’t see what was holding up the line so much, it was already ridiculously long as is, but it seemed that the inspection and ticket-buying at the booth was so strict that a single person had to go through an entire police interrogation before getting approved to finally enter the station. On top of boredom and wariness, Sylvia was also beginning to get irritated, the constant noises of Wander’s fidgeting, the angry grumbles of the one-eyes alien behind her, the loud marches of passing Stormtroopers putting her on edge, the loud crying of babies of other people in the queue, were not helping her current mood. So much so that she didn’t notice when Wander eventually disappeared again.

Wander was starting to fidget like crazy, clearly getting impatient and having a hard time keeping himself composed to not anger Sylvia or get them kicked out of the line by Stormtroopers. Wander saw how Sylvia was perfectly silent, not moving a muscle, just standing in place with her arms crossed. But it was obvious from her expression that she was starting to get irritated, bottling up more emotions than Wander was. Wander wanted to sit and lie down since the line was really slow anyway, which also seemed like what Sylvia and everyone else in the queue wanted to do. But unfortunately, there were several signs not allowing people to sit or lie on the floor, which was not helping the moods of anyone waiting in a long, barely moving line. He also wanted to play his banjo to entertain himself, but there were signs against playing musical instruments in public too, so that was out of the window, and Wander hummed quietly to himself instead. Wander tried to find something else to take his mind off the agonizing waiting, so he decided to look around him at whatever was going on in the station. Wander wanted to go around and explore, but he knew he couldn’t leave the queue, which was just bringing him down more.

As Wander looked around him, all he saw were more queues. Sure, queues filled with aliens of all shapes and sizes and colors, some alone and some with friends and family, but queues nonetheless. Wander continued just looking around until something finally caught his eye. At the end of one of the queues, he saw a purple mother alien with several kids surrounding her pleading with an officer in a ticket booth while the officer and a Stormtrooper behind her were forcing her to move along past the gate, though Wander couldn’t hear what the whole thing was about. Wander looked around the station some more, then saw amid the crowd a lone purple alien kid crying to himself, and it didn’t take Wander long to figure out this was the purple alien’s child and they got separated.

Wander immediately panicked after witnessing what just unfolded. Wander was just about to make a beeline to the purple child but stopped himself before taking a step and looked back at Sylvia, who did not notice any of what happened as she was still lost in her frustrations. Wander knew he was in a lose-lose situation right now. If he ran off to help the child, he’d break his promise to Sylvia for the second time today, and after Sylvia already pleaded with him twice as well, which was a thought he couldn’t bear. But if he did just stay, the man would have his day, or as far as Wander knew, his whole life ruined because he couldn’t board the train and Wander didn’t step in to help. Either way, it’s just gonna end with guilt on Wander’s part. Wander now started fidgeting even crazier than before, his feet didn’t stop moving causing his shoes to constantly squeak against the floor, he started biting his fingernails, and sweat was starting to pour down his face fast as he kept looking back and forth between Sylvia and the direction of the crying purple kid. Eventually, Wander finally snapped and ran off.

Sylvia was starting to get a headache from the waiting and the constant wariness of everything around her. She grumbled and rubbed her forehead.

“Grrgghh! Could this line possibly be any slo–” Sylvia said as she looked down at Wander, only to see he wasn’t there anymore. Sylvia could feel her eye visibly twitch rapidly and her arm started to shake before her teeth clenched and she finally yelled. “WANDER!”

Wander ran through the heavy crowd of the station, heading straight towards the lone purple child, and avoiding some passing Stormtroopers along the way. Finally Wander made it to the child, gently touching his shoulder, in which the child stopped his wailing and looked up at Wander. To Wander’s confusion but also delight, the child started laughing at Wander.

“Hey there, little buddy. Are ya lost?” Wander asked, to which the child quietly nodded after he stopped laughing. “Well, don’t ya worry! Yer old pal Wander here knows where your mommy is, and I’m gonna take ya to her as quickly as possible! She’s really worried about you, y’know?”

The child smiled brightly and took Wander’s hand, and Wander quickly led himself and the child through the large crowds in the mother’s direction. As Wander and the child approached the mother who was surrounded by many of her other children, he could hear the argument going on between her and the Imperial officer in the ticket booth.

“Look, ma’am, for the last time! Either you board the trains without your child or you and your entire family can leave the station and go back to the planet you came from! There are people waiting in line!” the officer in the booth argued.

“But we can’t go back to our planet, sir! It’s been completely overrun by Fremen! Please, you have to help find my child!” the mother pleaded to the officer, who was not moved by her at all.

“Lost children or property is not our problem, ma’am!”

“But it is mine!” Wander interjected, getting the attention of the mother and the officer.

“My child!” the mother cried with joy and hugged her child tightly while her other children cheered at the return of their sibling. The mother then turned to hug Wander as well. “Thank you very much, kind sir! You brought my kid back to me!”

“Aw, shucks, ma’am. I’m just helpin’ out someone in need.”

“Alright, you finally got your child back. Now can you please move along already?!” the officer in the booth groaned, gesturing to the mother to go through the gates.

“Of course, sir!” the mother said, now with a relieved happy voice, as she called all her children to follow her through the gates.

As the mother and her children walked into the station, the child that Wander helped turned around one last time and waved goodbye to Wander. “Thanks, Funny Glasses Man!”

Wander smiled proudly but was also pretty confused as to what the child meant by that name. It was only when Wander looked down on his nose and remembered that he was still wearing his Groucho Glasses disguise the whole time that he chuckled to himself and realized why the child laughed at him upon them initially meeting each other.

Suddenly, Wander felt himself get grabbed by the shoulders and quickly turned around to face whoever it was that just grabbed him. For a split second, Wander was worried that it was a Stormtrooper that was about to arrest him, either because he unknowingly broke some newly-placed station rule, or they saw through his disguise and recognized him. But to Wander’s relief, but also fear, it was Sylvia, who was completely out of breath from worry and exhaustion.

“Wander! Where the flarp have you been?! I’ve been all over the station looking for you! You told me that you wouldn’t go anywhere again!” Sylvia scolded while shaking Wander roughly.

“Sorry, Syl. But this kid was in trouble! They got lost in the station and separated from their mommy and was all alone and crying! I couldn’t just leave them alone and let ‘em get separated.”

Sylvia just sighed, any worry and anger that was on her face faded away. “Look, Wander, don’t get me wrong, what you did was a very good thing. But you need to stop running off without telling me. Otherwise, I won’t know where you are, and I won’t be able to help you!”

“Alright,” Wander said quietly, feeling ashamed and not knowing what else to say.

“C’mon, buddy. Let’s just get back to our place in the line,” Sylvia guided Wander back to the queue they were in.

As the both of them arrived at their queue, Sylvia tried looking for their previous place in the line. Sylvia recognized the buff green cyclops alien who was behind them. Sylvia then stepped into the line right in front of him, along with Wander, but the green alien behind them suddenly pushed them out again.

“Hey! What’s the big idea?!” Sylvia shouted as she got up to her feet again.

“Don’t cut into the line like that, ya chumps!” the green one-eyed alien scolded.

“What?! We were the ones in line in front o’ ya, buddy! Remember?!” Sylvia argued with the man.

“No, I don’t remember ever seeing you two in front o’ me,” the big green cyclops crossed his arms, but Sylvia could clearly tell he was playing dumb.

“That’s it, pal! Let me an’ my buddy in! We were here first!” Sylvia tried to fight her way into her and Wander’s spot in the queue.

“Oh no ya don’t! Security! Security! These two are tryin’ to cut the line!'' The green one-eyed man called out to someone passing by behind them, which Wander and Sylvia turned around to see was a passing Stormtrooper.

“What?!” Sylvia exclaimed. “No we’re not, ya big liar!”

“Hey, you two! No cutting into lines or starting fights, or we’ll have you kicked outta the station and back to the planet you came from! Now go to the back of the line where you belong!” the Stormtrooper shouted at the two disguised fugitives, pointing them in the direction they should go.

“Wha-! But…!” Sylvia stammered, trying to argue even further. But she remembered that she and Wander were supposed to lay low right now, and causing a scene could get them arrested and found out. So she had no other choice but to do what the Stormtrooper told her. “Yes, sir,” she sighed.

Sylvia turned to the direction of the back of the queue and was shaken to her core seeing how long the line had gotten, with at least a hundred new people. Now the two of them were going to have to wait twice, if not three times as long as they would’ve if Wander hadn’t run off and Sylvia hadn’t gone looking for him. Sylvia could do nothing but groan and reluctantly walked to the back of the line, with Wander following close behind her. Sylvia turned around to see the alien who got them kicked out of the queue, and she saw him looking back at her too, waving goodbye mockingly while having a smug smile on his face. Sylvia’s anger grew upon seeing this, which only caused the one-eyed alien to smile even more because he knew she couldn’t do anything at the moment.

“Ooh! If only these stupid Stormtroopers weren’t constantly breathing down our necks, I’d give that guy a serious piece of my mind!” Sylvia growled while making a fist.

“I understand yer upset, Syl. But ya can’t just start a fight in a public place, or we’ll both get kicked out! Plus, it’s jus’ plain wrong,” Wander attempted to calm the zbornak down.

Sylvia just sighed again. “I know, buddy. Let’s just try to keep our heads low.”

Wander and Sylvia stepped to the very back of the line, and now the ticket booth they were trying to get to seemed further away than ever before. The two of them then waited for a painstakingly long time for the queue to make any major progress, with the nomadic duo sometimes even finding themselves sitting or lying down on the floor just to wait for the line to move, before the person behind them yelled at them to get up and move, or some passing Stormtrooper security guard told them that it’s not allowed to sit or lie down on the floor, both merely fueling Sylvia’s frustration. After a while, Sylvia decided to stick her head out to the side of the queue to glare at the large green cyclops alien who caused their entire situation right now in the first place. She could see that the man was now practically at the end of the line, approaching the ticket booth, which only made Sylvia flare her nostrils and grit her teeth. Suddenly, as the line moved forward, and so did the green cyclops, Sylvia saw something fall out of his back pocket as he walked up to the ticket booth, something small and brown. It was hard for Sylvia to tell what the object now on the floor was because of how far away she was, but the more she looked at it, she realized it was the one-eyed man’s wallet. Sylvia couldn’t help but feel a bit of sadistic pleasure at seeing him lose his wallet since she knew that meant he wouldn’t be able to pay for his train tickets and would get transported out of the station.

“Heh, serves him right,” Sylvia murmured with satisfaction.

“Serves who right?” Wander suddenly asked, curious as to why Sylvia was smiling and snickering to herself all of a sudden.

“That jerk who got us kicked to the back o’ the line just dropped his wallet. Yeah, have fun gettin’ kicked out yourself, buddy! Right, Wander?” Sylvia turned to her best friend, only to find he had disappeared yet again.

Sylvia facepalmed hard, and wanted to be mad at Wander, but couldn’t bring herself to do so since she realized she pretty much brought this on herself. She should've expected her friend would go running off to help someone immediately after she’d told him that said someone was in any form of trouble. “Me and my big mouth,” she sighed to herself.

At the other end of the queue, the one-eyed green alien was in the middle of buying one ticket for himself, but when the time came for him to pay for it, he reached into his pockets only to find nothing in them. He then starts to panic and frantically searches every crevice of himself, but still finds no sign of his wallet.

“Is there a problem, sir?” the officer in the booth asked, who was starting to grow impatient with the green cyclops.

“I, uh…can’t seem to find my wallet…yet. Just, uh…gimme as sec,” the large muscular alien stammered.

“Sir, if you want a ticket, you’re going to have to pay for it.”

“I know that! Just gimme a minute! I’ll find it!” the cyclops man began double-checking his pockets more frantically now.

“If you are unable to purchase a ticket, you will not be permitted to board the trains. If you are unable to board, you shall be transported back to the planet you came from. Can you state the planet you arrived here from?” the officer asked in a very monotone voice as if reading standard procedure, which it probably was.

“No, man! C’mon, just wait a moment!”

“I have many more passengers to attend to, sir. So I’m afraid I cannot just ‘wait a moment’.”

“I know I had my wallet with me! Let me just try to find it! Please, just tell security to look for a missing wallet!” the green cyclops pleaded, but the officer wasn’t having it.

“Missing items are not our responsibility, sir. You shall wait by the space shuttles and you shall be transported down to the nearest Empire-occupied planet.” The officer then gestured to two nearby Stormtroopers to the green cyclops man. “Guards, please escort this man to the shuttles.”

“No! Wait! You can’t do this to me!” the cyclops man struggled as the two Stormtroopers grabbed him and attempted to drag him away until they were stopped in their tracks by the arrival of another individual.

Wander was out of breath by the time he arrived in front of the green cyclops man due to how far and fast he had to run, but he thought it was worth it.

“Excuse me, is this your wallet, sir?” Wander held out the brown wallet in front of the green cyclops.

“Yes, that’s mine!” he yanked the wallet out of Wander’s small hands and opened it just to be fully sure it was his own. “Thank Grop you found this!”

The green cyclops man’s face then shifted from joy to a more solemn expression as he turned to Wander. “You’re…really helping me? Even after I was such a jerk to you and your friend?”

“Aw, sir. What you did was very rude to us and you should never do it again, but that doesn’t mean I should’ve just stood by and done nothin’ while you got in trouble because of an honest accident.”

“Gee, uh…thanks, man,” the green cyclops man said, with an expression of quiet surprise and amazement at Wander’s actions.

“You should consider yourself lucky, sir. We don’t get many do-gooders like him around here willing to waste their time to help the likes of you,” the officer commented from inside the booth, though he still had an air of condescension in his voice.

With that, the green cyclops man turned around back to the booth, paid for his ticket, and walked through the gate. Wander felt bad about running off yet again, but he was also proud of himself for not only taking the time to help someone in need, but it seemed he also made an impact on the cyclops man with his simple act of kindness. Wander could see it in his eye and face. Then, Sylvia walked up beside him, also exhausted and out of breath.

“Sylvia? What’re ya doin’ here? Why didn’t ya just wait back at our spot in the line? I was gonna come back.”

“Yeah, I considered doing that,” Sylvia said after regaining her breath. “But I did say you were gonna stick by my side no matter what, right? Well, that’s exactly what I’m doing. No matter what, we stick close, buddy,” Sylvia said as she embraced Wander with one arm.

“Aw, thanks, Syl!” Wander hugged his friend back.

As Wander and Sylvia snapped out of their embrace, Sylvia saw a Stormtrooper security guard pointing his finger in the direction behind the two nomads, and despite not saying a word, Sylvia understood what he was saying.

“Alright, alright! We’ll go to the back of the line again,” Sylvia groaned as she walked away, dragging Wander behind her.

This time, despite being moved to the back of the line for a second time and waiting a while yet again, Sylvia did not feel frustrated, or at least as frustrated as she was before, though she couldn’t really tell why. Maybe because she’s just gotten used to waiting in line for long periods of time, but it’s more likely it’s because she stopped being frustrated and stressed out by Wander, who now that she thought about it, was the main thing causing all her worry and stress throughout this entire thing anyway.

As the two fugitive nomads continued waiting in line, something miraculous happened; the line moved fast this time. Turns out, the only thing making the line Wander and Sylvia were in ridiculously long was a centipede man (whom Wander recognized from the time he tried buying Thunder Blazz for Sylvia) who took up most of the space of the queue due to his length. As the man who took up most of the line only had to buy one ticket for himself, the moment he left and went through the gates, the entire line in front of Wander and Sylvia had completely disappeared. The two nomads then decided to run towards the ticket booth as fast as they could before the people behind them could get the smart idea of stepping into the empty queue in front of them. Finally, after waiting for who knows how long (Wander and Sylvia had pretty much lost all track of time by this time, they could’ve been in the station for either thirty minutes or two days and they wouldn’t be able to tell), they finally reached the end of the line and in front of the ticket booth.

The Imperial officer in the booth looked up at them, who from his face got bored from waiting for the centipede man to completely pass through the gates. He stood upright again and put one hand on the computer panel to his right and the other on the microphone in front of him. “Well, look at that, the do-gooder finally made it.”

“Hehe, yeah, that’s me,” Wander chuckled nervously.

“Alright, anyway…where do you two want to go?” the officer asked while looking down at the computer screen he was tapping.

“Uh…pretty much anywhere that’s available,” Sylvia answered, trying to put on a fake regal accent.

This response from Sylvia seemed to make the officer look up at her with a somewhat confused look. “That’s not an answer, ma’am. What is the purpose of your trip? Business or pleasure?”

“Er, well it’s kinda neither. Y’see, sir, we had to flee our planet that’s been overrun by Fremen warriors, sir. Me an’ my pal here just need to get on a train that’ll take us anywhere far enough to be safe.” Wander explained.

The officer’s expression then shifted from one of frustration and confusion to a blank unfazed expression as if he was about to repeat a tired old routine. “Of course you are. Every day this station sees more and more immigrants fleeing Fremen-invaded planets.”

“If you don’t mind my saying, sir…” Sylvia said, trying to make her voice as regal as possible. “Why exactly are you all working in this place now? Aren’t you all busy conquering the galaxy or something?”

“That’s exactly what this is.” the officer answered. “Any conqueror and invader who knows anything about what they do would know that the most important places to strike first when taking over new territory are the communication centers and the transportation centers. Good thing too, the space travel in this galaxy is way too unchecked, too many inhabitants flying around whenever and wherever they please, there wasn’t even any security or authorities in this station. That’ll change once the Empire brings much needed order to this chaotic galaxy. Can’t have a rebellion forming in another galaxy as well.” Sylvia started to glare after hearing the officer’s explanation.

“You should be thankful that we’re the ones who got to these places first, you know? Especially with the forces of Emperor Paul Muad’Dib running around. Those desert savages are destroying every spaceport and spaceship they come across.” the officer continued as if responding to Sylvia’s inner thoughts.

“They’re destroying spaceports?! Why?” Wander and Sylvia asked in unison.

“Obviously to restrict interstellar travel to just those heighliners of theirs. Emperor Muad’Dib seems to be trying to monopolize space travel as well. At least we are civilized enough to not destroy and still preserve all the spaceports here, unlike those barbaric Fremen who are so blinded by their idolatry to their emperor with a saviour complex that they can never think for themselves.” Sylvia supposed he had a point, anything was better than Paul and the Fremen at this point, but that didn’t make what the Empire was doing any better, and it certainly didn’t make her hate them any less, they were still a bunch of cruel arrogant jerks who think everyone else is below them.

“Aw, sir. What the Fremen are doin’ is terrible and all, but there’s no need ta call ‘em all that nasty stuff.” Wander said with sympathetic eyes.

“After all they’ve done to this galaxy we’re supposed to claim and their audacity to think they can just go against the Empire? I’d say nasty words are the least they deserve. Can’t wait for the day we decimate the lot of them and their delusional emperor,” the officer then started staring at Sylvia and Wander, narrowing his eyes, as if trying to analyze something about them. “You know, you two look strangely familiar. Have I seen you two somewhere before?” the officer asked.

“Seen us? Whaaatt? Of course not! We just have one of those faces that look like wanted fugitives for some reason!” Sylvia said, chuckling nervously.

“You two look kind of like…” the officer said as he looked down to turn on a device, which projected the wanted holograms of Wander and Sylvia. “Wait a minute, aren’t you–” the officer looked up from the hologram, only to find Wander and Sylvia having disappeared from their spot in front of the booth, leaving only two Groucho glasses falling to the ground where they originally stood.

The officer quickly pressed a button, sending an announcement that echoed through the speakers riddled throughout the station. “Attention all Stormtroopers! The fugitives Wander and Sylvia are inside the station! Pursue them immediately and destroy them on sight!”

Sylvia ran through the station with as much speed as she could muster, throwing Wander onto her back in the process, which was a better alternative than holding his hand through the entire thing. Sylvia and Wander finally reached the giant clock at the center of the station, and Sylvia looked around quickly to find any possible escape routes, and while doing so, she also saw several squads of Stormtroopers heading their direction from multiple corners of the station. Sylvia started to panic, she now frantically scanned her surroundings as quickly as she could, and luckily, an opportunity presented itself. In one of the platforms, a train had just arrived, giving Sylvia a glimmer of hope, but the downside was that it was way over on the other side of the station where she and Wander now stood. But it was better than nothing, and Sylvia wasn’t someone who never not took a chance.

Sylvia started running again, maneuvering around the crowds and the twists and turns of the station. In front of her, a squad of Stormtroopers stopped dead in their tracks and aimed their blasters at them.

“Stop right there, fugitives!” the lead Stormtrooper shouted.

Before the Stormtroopers could fire, Sylvia leaped in the air, Wander holding onto her tightly. Sylvia used the top of the lead Stormtrooper’s helmet as a jumping pad, before leaping yet again over the Stormtrooper squad and landing behind them, and Sylvia continued running. The Stormtrooper squad behind them turned around, the leader rubbing his head in pain from Sylvia’s foot jumping off it.

“Blast them!” the leader shouted again as he and the rest of his squad opened fire and began to pursue the two fugitives.

As Sylvia ran, none of the laser blasts hit her or Wander, luckily. These Stormtroopers must’ve not been part of Wander’s training program back on Goolopia. Sylvia continued maneuvering through the crowds, a lot of them just continuing about their day as if nothing was going on, which considering this station allowed Dominator-Bots to run around without anyone batting an eye, didn’t surprise Sylvia too much. The good thing about it is that it helped slow down the Stormtrooper squad chasing them, as Sylvia easily slipped through the crowd at full speed, the Stormtroopers behind her and Wander kept bumping into angry passersby and having their path blocked by the large crowds, which slowed them down significantly. Sylvia was glad for that, but that was just a minor setback for their problems.

In front and to the left of them, Sylvia saw other squads of Stormtroopers headed in their direction, numbers greater than before. Sylvia quickly made a turn to a path on the right, where the two squads joined together upon crossing paths and continued chasing her.

In front of them, Sylvia could see the family of the purple alien mother and her children. Wander’s eyes and the eyes of the child he helped met, and the child knew what was going on. As soon as Sylvia ran past them, the little purple kid told their siblings to all play in the path of the pursuing Stormtroopers. As they did, the Stormtroopers halted in their tracks as the dozens of small purple children blocked the narrow station path, with no way to get around them.

“Ma’am, get your children out of the way!” The lead Stormtrooper ordered the purple mother.

“What?! I can’t hear you!” the mother shouted, her voice and the Stormtrooper’s command getting drowned out by the noise of all her children’s screaming and playing.

The purple child that Wander helped looked back at Wander and gave him a wink, and Wander returned it as Sylvia kept running.

Now, another troop was heading in their direction from a different path. It seemed like they all kept coming from different directions and just won’t stop. Sylvia made a quick turn in the direction of the train she’d been targeting, deciding to stop wasting any more time as that train would probably depart any second now and would leave her and Wander trapped in the station.

This time in front of them, was none other than the buff green cyclops man, who seemed to have noticed what was going on and stepped out of the way for Sylvia to run by, and as soon as she ran by he extended his large muscular arm which all the Stormtroopers chasing them bumped into.

“Hey, get out of the way! Or you’ll be taken into custody!” the lead Stormtrooper shouted while getting back up after running face-first into the green cyclops’ arm.

“Take this into custody!” the green cyclops man retorted by punching the lead Stormtrooper so hard that he was sent flying back into the other Stormtroopers who didn’t bump into the cyclops’ arm.

Once he did that, the green cyclops man turned back to Wander and gave him a smile and a thumbs up, which Wander also returned. Wander knew that the cyclops man would get arrested for doing what he just did, but it was clear from his face that the cyclops man knew this, but was willing to risk it to help Wander and Sylvia escape. Wander couldn’t help but feel touched at how he helped this man change in such a short period just by doing a simple kind act for him.

The two fugitives are now nearly approaching the platform with the boarding train, but to their panic, the train is about to depart, and on top of that, behind them, many Stormtroopers troops and even several uniformed Imperial officers leading them are close on their tail, quite literally. Sylvia decided to put all her energy into running as fast as she possibly could before the doors of the train closed and the Stormtroopers could get a hold of them.

Behind them, one of the Imperial officers shouted a command at all the chasing Stormtroopers he was leading. “What are you waiting for, you fools?! Blast them! Fire at will!”

Every Stormtrooper behind them fired their blasters, with no regard for the safety of the crowd of people in the station who could get caught in the crossfire. Many red laser blasts flew around Wander and Sylvia, and one of the Imperial officers behind them, who ran surprisingly fast for someone in his position of power, was nearing Wander and Sylvia with his hand reaching out, intending to grab Wander.

Now Sylvia saw that every person on the platform had entered the train with no one else going in or out, meaning the doors were about to close any second now. Sylvia just kept running with all her might, didn’t look back, and even ignored all the laser blasts flying around them. The hand of the Imperial officer behind them is mere inches away from Wander, and it seemed prepared to grab the small fuzzy orange nomad any second now too.

“Gotcha!” the officer grinned just as he was about to grasp Wander’s back.

But just before the officer could grab Wander, Sylvia leaped forward off the ground and towards the doors of the train that were about to close. Miraculously, Sylvia and Wander crashed safely into the train, and the doors closed just in time before any of the officers and Stormtroopers could enter, causing all the ones in front to run face-first into the closed doors and fall on their backs.

“Nooo!” the lead officer who was about to grab Wander cried out, banging against the closed doors’ windows. But the train was now departing at full speed, and Wander and Sylvia saw the Space Train Station get smaller and smaller in the depths of space by the second.

Back in the station, the lead officer could do nothing but throw his hat to the ground and stomp on it out of anger, as he and the Stormtroopers could now do nothing as the fugitives they were pursuing were now on the train that flew farther and farther away.

“Woohoo! We did it, buddy! We made it!” Sylvia cheered as she high-fived Wander, and the two of them hugged each other yet again. “Ugh, if I had known we could’ve just ran through the gates like that, I probably would’ve just done that from the start.”

“But Sylvia, don’t you see? We wouldn’t have made it if all those people didn’t help us, and they wouldn’t have helped if I didn’t also help them! Like I once said, Syl, one o’ the good things about helpin’ other is that sometimes they help ya right back.”

“I guess you’re right, buddy,” Sylvia said with a calm smile. “But, wooh, am I out of it. I just wanna sit down and take a break.”

“Right there with ya, buddy.”

The two fugitives sat down at two empty seats and decided to take their well-deserved rest, but not before Wander suddenly asked something. “Hey, Syl. Where does this train go, anyway?”

“Uh, I actually don’t know, buddy. And I don’t care as long as it takes us as far away as possible from any Stormtroopers,” Sylvia answered, deciding to shrug off any worries.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Wander said, and the two of them finally decided to rest.

After a long ride, the train finally stopped on a planet, where Wander and Sylvia decided to get off. Sylvia felt very relaxed after her long rest on the train, and so did Wander, and the two of them embraced this new planet with open arms.

“Ah, finally, completely Stormtrooper and Empire-free,” Sylvia said until she and Wander took a good look at the planet they arrived on.

In front of them was a city that seemed to have just been invaded, with a statue of Paul Muad’Dib being built in the center, many signature red hawk Atreides banners being hung in many of its buildings, and even many ornithopters flying around. The two fugitives realize they have just got off on a Fremen-invaded planet.

“Oh, are you kidding me?!” Sylvia shouted, realizing she just got her wish, but they merely just got out of the frying pan and into the fire.

Wander then pulled out two Groucho Glasses, one he already wore on his face, and the other was being offered to Sylvia. “Ready to face another dangerous situation, buddy?” he asked with a wide grin.

Sylvia could do nothing but groan and just put on her ridiculous disguise again, having to deal with the exact same situation for a second time.

#wander over yonder #star wars #dune #fanfic #fanfiction #stormtrooper

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elysianslove · 3 years

Note

yes bestie the sounding hc of suna !!

i am presenting now my formal petition for you to please share your thoughts 🤲🤲

okay bae i gotchu !!! ALSO PLEASE DONT USE THIS AS SEX ED I AM NOT KNOWLEDGABLE AT ALL IM JUST WRITING WHAT I KNOW AND MAKING IT SEXY PLEASE DONT DO THIS WITHOUT RESEARCH I BEG

anyways

so suna’s very open minded, especially when it comes to kinks, meaning he’s pretty much either tried nearly everything, or has thought about trying. but when you bring up sounding and send him a video, he just looks at you blankly with slightly furrowed brows and goes, “that looks uncomfortable.”

but shit, he wouldn’t be suna rintarō if he didn’t at least try it. so eventually, he finds himself with his legs spread wide on the bed to accommodate you sitting in between them. you haven’t tied his wrists down or anything of the sort, but they’ve already begun fisting the sheets tightly. you’re sitting cross legged, knees resting on his thighs, and in your gloved hands is a sound. it’s pretty thin actually, a short metal rod glistening with lube. when you bring it closer, the hand free of the sound reaching to grasp his stiff cock, he inhales sharply, hands squeezing the bedsheets again and knees twitching and lifting slightly.

“you okay?” you ask, pulling your hands back.

suna breathes easier, and a second, two, three, four pass, before he exhales deeply. “okay,” he decides. “i’m okay.”

“okay?” you ask again, reaching out for his dick again, but a lot more cautiously and slowly. he’s nodding, mumbling yeah, yeah, yeah, as you squeeze his cock, stroke it slightly, thumbing at the slit. “you know the word if you want me to stop, mhm?”

he nods again, eyes squeezing shut tightly, turning his head when he feels the cold metal against the tip of his dick. it edges closer, closer, closer to the slit, before slowly, ever so slowly, you push in. he inhales again, breath catching in his throat as you push the sound in deeper, your hand around his cock stabilizing it completely. he can vaguely hear praises fall from your lips, something about how good he is for you, about how pretty his cock is, about how pretty he is, but his heart is pounding, racing and beating unbearably fast. he can hear it so loud in his ears as he holds his breath, continues to, until all of a sudden, the pressure of your fist around him disappears.

when he opens his eyes and looks down, he finds the metal rod completely disappeared, except for the hook at the top preventing it from sinking in completely. (he doesn’t think he would’ve agreed to this without that merciful hook).

at the sight, he finally, finally breathes again.

“it’s all in,” you say cheerfully say, smiling proudly up at him. suna realizes just how breathless he is then, how sticky his skin is from sweat, how heated he feels. he’s dizzy, almost, and the feel of the sound inside of him is so foreign, so weird, so present. but something about it— something about it is so satisfying? “look at you,” you continue, awe and fascination evident in your voice. “you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

this is stupid, suna thinks. it’s stupid how dumb it’s making him. his chest feels so light, but his muscles heavy, incredibly tense. he’s sweating awfully, skin heated and flushed, but if only he could see himself. could see the way his hair hangs over his eyes, his hazy, cloudy eyes, or the way his cheeks are flushed, his lips are parted, pink and pretty, the way his chest is pink and his nipples have hardened, or the way his abs are glistening and so, so tense. and his dick— holy hell, his cock. the veins along his darkened shaft are protruding, his balls tight and stiff. the tip is red, dripping lube from where the sound entered and oozed.

he really is a sight for sore eyes, especially when you reach for the hook of the sound and pull. he gasps, doubling forward and pulling at the sheets. struggling to compose himself, he pants desperately, thighs shaking as he attempts to keep them still. you’re pulling and pulling and pulling, and when the pressure from within his dick disappears, only remaining at the tip, you push in again, and his head flies back, mouth tight lipped as he moans and groans and sobs.

it’s overwhelming, so fucking overwhelming. it’s such a weird feeling, the sound touching him in places he‘s never been touched before, he never should be touched, but it’s good. it’s good, it’s good, it’s good. he’s still trembling, toes curling and knuckles whitening.

god, he’s glad he agreed to this.

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #suna smut #suna x reader #suna rintarou smut #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintaro smut #suna rintarō smut #sal’s thirst tag <3 #hq smut #tw sounding #?????

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nastybuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

Hoist the Colours - 2/3

Pairing: Pirate!Bucky X SeaGoddess!Reader

Summary: An encounter with the man you used to love lands you and your new crew in peril, stuck on a ship with the people responsible for binding you. And what they have planned for you is far worse than what you’d first imagined.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Fluff, Kinda slow burn

Word Count: 4.3K

A/n: Second part of this mini series! inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean: At World’s End

~*~

“Alright lads, you know the drill. I expect you back on the ship by dusk tomorrow.” The men of the king are more than eager to head to the longboats, wanting nothing more than to satiate their hunger for ale and whores.

The door to the quarters that you and Wanda share gets slowly pushed open, and Tony smiles brightly at you.

“Are you going to be coming ashore with us?” He asks, eyes hopeful. You don’t have it in you to say no, and you also can’t fight the nagging feeling that there’s something waiting for you here.

“Yes, we will. We’re ready now,” You say, smiling at him. He leads you out to the longboat and helps you in. There are a few other cremates already in the boat, waiting to be lowered to the shallow waters below.

You and Wanda sit beside each other, across from the men as they row you to shore.

Wanda looks at you, her eyes asking a question. You incline your head the slightest and she leans forward.

“You’re looking for something,” she whispers. You sigh and shrug weakly. “Something is coming to find me. And I must meet it.” She nods thoughtfully, eyes flashing from you to the docks up ahead.

As soon as the longboat is tied off, men on the shore are hurrying over to you and Wanda to help you both.

You accept the outstretched hand and climb up onto the dock, turning and waiting for Wanda to join you. As she comes up, a man’s hand strays too far south, and she hisses.

You grab him by the wrist, thunder clapping above you as you glare at him.

“You lay another finger on a woman without permission, and you’ll lose your entire hand. That is a promise.” He opens his mouth to make some sort of snarky remark but snaps it closed when he sees the tip of his fingers starting to turn black with the mark of death. He nods quickly and you drop his hand, watching with a stone-cold look on your face as his fingers return to normal.

The group of men who were so willing to help you quickly disperse as they realize that they aren’t going to get what they want from you or from Wanda.

“You ladies feel free to roam. I have no doubt that you can take care of yourselves. If you want to rejoin us, we’ll be leaving at dusk tomorrow.” You’re surprised at the offer, having thought that you and Wanda would have been forced to rejoin them.

“Thank you, Tony. For all you’ve done and for your kindness.” He smiles warmly at you and nods. “It’s nowhere near what you deserve, but it’s the best I could manage.” He offers you a small bow then heads off to drink himself into a coma for the night.

“Well. Shall we explore all that Tortuga has to offer?” You ask, extending your arm to Wanda. She grins and takes your outstretched arm. “We shall.”

~*~

Bucky sits in the pub, eyes roaming around the place for the millionth time as he tries to pinpoint your face amongst those of the strangers in the crowd.

A man plops down beside him, a cup of ale held loosely in his fist and a poisonous grin on his face.

“Barnes, good to see you again.” Bucky hardly glances at him. “Rumlow,” he says with a nod.

“What are the odds of me seeing you here, huh?” Bucky shrugs, sighing heavily. “What is it you want, Rumlow?” “Where’s your captain? I’ve got a proposition for you.”

“Over by the bar chattin’ up a dame. Go interrupt him, I dare ya.” Rumlow purses his lips and chuckles lightly. “A man of business, as usual.” Rumlow gets up from the table and heads over to the bar, giving the woman talking to Steve a smile before stepping between them, far too close for Steve’s comfort.

Bucky watches them, watches as Rumlow speaks and as Steve’s eyes widen. The eyes in question are suddenly on him, a chin raised up towards the ceiling, beckoning the dark-haired man to join the conversation.

Bucky gets up with a groan and heads over to the bar. Crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the two other men expectantly.

“There’s a ship of the King’s men here tonight, they leave tomorrow at dusk,” Steve starts, waiting for his friend to catch on. When he simply stares back at the blond, Steve sighs.

“We split the bounty down the middle if we help take the ship. Think about it, Buck. They’ve always got gold on those ships.” He shakes his head. Right as he’s about to open his mouth he hears a familiar note being played on the piano. It’s being played softly, so softly he has to strain to hear it, but he hears it no less.

Whipping around, his eyes search for the piano, and, more importantly, the person playing it.

“Buck?” Steve asks, concern lacing his voice. Bucky ignores him, pushing his way through the pub until he gets to the back corner.

His breath catches in his throat, heart racing in his chest as he sees the woman seated at the piano, playing the song that lulls him to sleep every night. His fingers instinctively find the locket around his neck, the one that plays that very same song, and he finds himself blinking back tears.

You can feel him behind you before he says anything, but when he whispers your name you can’t help the shiver that rolls down your spine. Your fingers continue playing but your posture stiffens slightly, the only indication that you heard him.

“Where have you been? We’ve been searching for you for so long.” This has your fingers freezing, and you slowly stand up.

You turn to him and he’s beyond confused and concerned at the betrayal and sadness in your eyes. Without speaking a word, you brush past him, ready to walk straight out of the pub and meet up with Wanda.

He grabs your wrist, urging you to stop, and you do, only to yank your arm out of his grip as if he scalded you. “Don’t you dare touch me,” you hiss, your eyes filled with rage.

His brows pull together in confusion, having absolutely no idea why you’re treating him this way. You turn away from him again and he runs after you, fighting the urge to grab you again.

“(Y/n) wait! Stop!” As soon as you’re out of the pub you feel better, the cool air doing wonders to clear your head.

“Where are you going?” You continue walking, grinding your teeth together as he follows you. His fingers just barely graze your shoulder and you whip around to face him, thunder crackling above you.

Clouds roll in, your emotions getting the better of you as a storm forms quickly overhead.

“You have no right to touch me. I should kill you for even looking at me after what you did!” He looks genuinely confused. “What I did? (Y/n) what are you talking about?” You chuckle once without humour, your eyes stinging with unshed tears.

“Don’t play dumb, James. It doesn’t suit you.” With that you turn and walk away just as the rain starts to fall around you, droplets splattering on your face as tears claw their way down your cheeks.

He stands there in the pouring rain, staring dumbfounded at your retreating figure while wondering what the Hell happened that you’re blaming him for.

“Buck? You okay?” He doesn’t look away from where you last were, his eyes having lost you in the downpour.

“She... I...” He looks over at his friend, eyes rimmed red. “What happened?” Rumlow asks, squinting against the harsh rainfall.

“I don’t know. She just... she hates me. I don’t even know what I did.” Steve pats the man on the shoulder. “After we lost you she went ballistic. Maybe she heard a rumour of something untrue and believes it? I’m sure she’ll come around.” Bucky shakes his head. The way you stared at him, utter betrayal in your eyes... he knows you far too well to believe that you’ll simply change your mind.

“Enough of that. Do we have a deal, Rogers?” Bucky looks over at the two men, confused about whatever deal is going down.

“The King’s ship is here. And they never travel without gold. The colours on this one lead me to believe that there’s an important man travelling for his Majesty. And you know what that means,” Rumlow explains, grinning at the metal-armed sailor. “Leverage,” he murmurs, mind still on you while he ponders the deal.

“The amount of Gold on a king’s ship, even if we split it halfway, would set us over for months,” Steve whispers. Bucky sighs then nods.

“Alright fine. Now which ship are you wanting?”

~*~

“Ladies! It’s good to see you. I’ll be honest, I was unsure if you’d be joining us again. But I’m glad you did.” You smile warmly at Tony then look back out across the open water, eyes flittering towards Tortuga in the distance.

“What did you expect to happen if not that?” Wanda asks softly, stepping beside you and keeping her eyes focused on the horizon.

“I thought he would be surprised to see me. And he was. But he acted as if he didn’t know it was he who caused this in the first place,” you whisper. She frowns but says nothing more, giving you the silence to think over your interaction with the man you used to love.

“Captain! We.. we’ve got some trouble it looks like,” Peter says hurriedly. Tony steps away from where he was listening to your conversation and glances to where the young man is pointing. Sure enough, coming up on the stern are two ships, each with dark flags waving.

Clouds roll in overhead quickly and Wanda’s eyes glow red.

“Pirates,” she whispers. The wind comes in strong, sending a few crew-mates stumbling as they run across the deck.

“They aim to plunder, they want nothing to do with us, unless they deem us of value,” you inform, gathering your skirts in your hands and marching over to Tony.

“We have no chance of outrunning them. And outgunning them... not even a hope.” He looks at you then up to the skies. “Can you not conjure something?” You shake your head. “Nothing more than a storm. But what aids us will aid them. We’ve lost.” He sighs heavily then nods, looking over at his men.

“What will they do?” Your eyes travel to the two pirate ships that are quickly gaining, trying to focus on the flags and determine which ships they are.

You incline your head slightly to the right and a gust of wind comes in, pushing their flags to the side. With wide eyes, you stumble back, the sight of the flags making your heart roar in your ears.

“What is it?”

You shake your head, the wind picking up as the rain starts to fall harder.

“We’ve got no chance,” you whisper, chest rising and falling rapidly as the ships grow nearer.

Wanda is by your side in an instant. “It’s them, isn’t it?” She asks, staring at the ships. You nod, grinding your teeth together.

“There is nothing we can do now,” she says firmly, taking hold of your arm to grab your attention. “Do not let them think they’ve won. They have not.” You take a few deep breaths, reigning in your emotions and clearing the rain. The skies stay grey, but the winds die down and the rain ceases.

“We’re going to be boarded, men. And when that happens we are to remain calm. They are pirates. They will take our gold, they may take our lives, but they will not ever take our pride! They will not strip us of the very thing that makes us men! We are strong and we stand for the King!” The men on the ship all shout their agreements, readying themselves for whatever fate awaits with the coming of the pirates.

Quickly, far quicker than you would’ve expected, you’re being flanked on either side by massive ships. One of them far too familiar. A home long forgotten.

You can see the pirates on either side, shouting profanities and grinning wickedly.

“Prepare to be boarded!” A man shouts at you. You look around at the men surrounding you and take a step closer to the back, burying yourself in the crowd as much as you can.

Pirates swing onto the ship, swords and pistols drawn and prepared for a fight. When they receive none they seem far too happy.

“Imagine my surprise when I see a ship of the King floating idly in the waters of Tortuga. Seemed too good an opportunity to be missed, right boys?” That voice... it sends a shudder ripping down your spine and darkness taints the sky.

You look up, eyes burning with anger, and you stare directly at the man who’s speaking. His murky eyes meet yours and he smiles a sickly grin, stepping down onto the main deck and pushing his way through the crowd.

“Ah, but you are not all men of the King, are you? No, some of you are much more valuable.” He stops when he’s in front of you, eyes raking over your figure.

“Yes. Some of you are far more valuable than mere men of the King.” He raises his fingers up to stroke your cheek and a clap of thunder shatters the silence. You glare at him in warning but he only chuckles, grubby fingers tracing dirty paths down your cheek.

“What are you going to do, witch?” He asks softly, stepping even closer to you. You say nothing, glaring up into his eyes with pure hate. He chuckles and right as he leans down to say something more you spit in his face. He flinches back then glares at you. He raises his hand to strike you but before it can come down, long fingers are wrapped around his wrist.

“No harm is to come to her.” You look over at the man, clenching your jaw shut so tightly you fear you may break it.

“Fine,” Rumlow spits, yanking his hand free from the blond man’s grip. “But we’re going to be changing course,” he shouts, pushing through the crowd to the poop deck.

“Tow the ship! And bring the prisoners aboard and shove ‘em in the brig. We set sail for Nassau.” Rumlow’s men are more than happy to start grabbing at people and chaining their wrists, stopping them from fighting and forcing them towards the edge of the ship where a plank is being laid down.

As men start crossing the gangplank to Rumlow’s ship, the man himself walks over to you and Wanda. Two men come behind him, each with thin metal cuffs in their hands.

“Hope you don’t mind, darling. Just a little precaution. Can’t have you using what little you have left to disturb my ocean.” The way he says it, with such smugness and certainty makes you want to pull his tongue right out of his mouth.

The cuffs are snapped into place and you nearly collapse. The remainder of your powers are stripped from you entirely, leaving you a mere mortal. Wanda inhales sharply at the sensation and you know she’s feeling just as terrible as you.

As the two of you are being pushed towards the plank, a hand lands on your shoulder.

“The witch will have my quarters. She has no place with the men of the king.” You wrench your shoulder out of his grasp and stumble away from him.

Rumlow watches in amusement as Bucky pleads with you with his eyes.

“As generous as an offer that is, I’d rather remain with the only crew who hasn’t betrayed or abandoned me,” you whisper harshly, glaring daggers at them. You cross the plank and are promptly shoved below decks, Wanda close behind.

You’re then locked in the brig with the rest of the crew, chest heaving at both the emotional strain and the physical one of having your powers drained.

Tony looks at you in complete and utter confusion, trying to piece together what he can, but he has little success.

You stay absolutely silent, back pressed against the damp wood of the ship.

Trapped and bound yet again by the hands of the same men.

~*~

“Once they reach Nassau they will look for the other ship of the King, try and find any leverage that they can. They are gathering far too many hostages, and we will be killed soon,” you whisper to Tony, a frown on your face as you peer through a crack in the wood. The ocean is rough, not by your doing, but you cannot help but feel as though the gods are on your side.

“Those men know you. Who are they?” Your bottom lip trembles and you take a few deep breaths. “One of the ships... used to be my home. The other is the reason why I am bound. Why I cannot access my powers fully. And there is only one man alive who knows how to strip me of my powers.”

He’s quiet for a very long moment.

“Why not just kill you? Why bind you?” He asks. You shrug, having asked yourself the same question. Because this, this fate that is now yours, is one worse than death.

“They mean to use you as a weapon,” Wanda says softly, her eyes closed as she tries to get used to not having her powers.

You and Tony both look over at her, waiting for her to continue.

She opens her eyes and looks between the two of you for a moment.

“By keeping you alive, your power remains on this earth. If they were to kill you, then your power would be lost, and that power is of great use to them. I anticipate that it will only be a matter of hours before you’re brought to the captain’s cabin and your purpose is discussed.”

Wanda is correct.

It’s only after the sun has set and night has taken hold that anyone descends the stairs.

“Cap’n wants you in his cabin, Witch,” a man sneers, yanking the door open and grabbing you by the wrists.

He’s awfully rough with you, but you pay it little to no mind, trying instead to focus on figuring out Rumlow’s game plan.

You’re forced into his cabin, nearly tripping over yourself in the process, but you regain your footing just in time and your eyes find those of your captor.

“I thought you would put up more of a fight if I’m honest,” he says, arms crossed over his chest as he looks you up and down.

You say nothing, mouth shut tightly and eyes focused on a scratch in the wall.

“Nothing to say? Really? I thought you would have some choice words considering your current predicament. Or are those words reserved for someone else?” A muscle in your jaw ticks and he grins, realizing he struck a nerve.

“It was he who told me how to bind you, how to strip you of your powers. He was there when we did it too. And yet he acts so innocent.” He stands up and walks over to you, circling you slowly, like a vulture.

“How does that make you feel? Does that... anger you? Does it make you hungry for revenge?” He stops when he’s in front of you, two fingers brushing gently across your jaw.

“Your wrath is something I’ve only ever dreamed of harnessing. And I can bring it back. You only need swear alliance to me, and you’ll be free from your bonds. You need only tie yourself to me, and your power will return.”

You look at him, face stoic and cold.

“I will not trade one set of bonds for another. Find someone else to do your bidding.” With that you turn on your heel, only to be yanked back to his chest.

“You will watch your tongue, woman, or I will cut it out. Do you understand?” You say nothing, but for the first time in a long time, you feel truly helpless.

“I am your captain now, and you will listen to me. Unless you would like to join all those that you have sent to the depths. And this time, you won’t have your powers to save you.”

You clench your jaw and tug out of his grip, glaring at him for a moment longer before turning and leaving his cabin.

“You will do my bidding one way or another, Wench! It is only a matter of time before you realize it!”

You’re ushered back below decks and shoved into a separate cell than before, successfully isolating you from the rest of the crew.

“That was brief,” Tony says cautiously, eyes on the retreating crew-mate before returning to your figure.

You say nothing, only close your eyes and pray for something as sweet as death to take you.

~*~

It’s hours later that you’re woken from your sleep, metal clanking together and hushed voices speaking quickly.

“Hurry now, before they wake up.” You push yourself into a seated position, watching in curious confusion as Steve and Bucky hold the cell door open, helping the prisoners out and up the stairs.

Only after they have the permission of Tony do they leave, and even then, the Captain and Wanda stay behind, each of them looking at you.

Upon realizing where you are, Bucky yanks your cell door open, holding his hand out to you.

“We must hasten, it won’t be long before they realize what we’ve done.” You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. Tony and Wanda leave their cell, lingering on the stairs and watching as you refuse help.

“Why would I exchange one traitorous pirate for another?” You ask rhetorically, your words like a slap across Bucky’s face.

“Buck, we need to leave. We don’t have time for this,” Steve whispers, gently pushing Wanda and Tony up the stairs.

You stare at the brunet in front of you, daring him to make a move.

When he doesn’t, you take matters into your own hands.

“What are you waiting for? Leave. It’s what you’re good at.” He doesn’t have time to argue, but your words cut him deep.

Against his better judgement, he turns and runs up the stairs, hating himself for abandoning you, but knowing that there are far more lives at stake.

The ship branches away from Rumlow's, heading West to escape him.

“We’ll drop you off at the nearest trade stop, but that is all we can do,” Steve says, looking across the table to where Wanda and Tony sit, each eyeing the goblets of rum in front of them.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Tony asks, looking at Bucky. The pirate furrows his brows in confusion.

“You’re the one who got her trapped.” He’s beyond confused now.

“What the hell are you talking about?” He demands, metal hand clenching into a fist.

“Don’t act so innocent. You’re the only person alive with the knowledge of how to bind her to her human form, how to cut her off from the sea. And you act as though you’ve done nothing.” Wanda’s eyes glow red with her anger but Bucky is still confused.

“I-I never told anyone... She trusted me and I kept it to myself. Why...” He trails off, horror colouring his features.

“Steve, when Rumlow found me after I fell overboard, what did he say happened?” Steve ponders this for a moment then shakes his head.

“Just that they found you in the water. Nothing else.” The red slowly fades from Wanda’s eyes as she realizes what must’ve happened.

“Rumlow’s the one who wanted power all along. And he’s stopped at nothing to get it. He means to use her as a weapon to control and conquer the seas. He’s the one who bound her. He must’ve used your knowledge to bind her without you knowing.” The three men in the room are confused by her suggestion.

“Consider it. He has no recollection of the time spent away from the ship, and he is also the only one with the knowledge.” She rises slowly to her feet, red glowing from her fingertips.

“If you let me, I could bring forth the memories, show you what your mind is trying to forget.” He looks at her hesitantly for a moment.

“(Y/n) is a dear friend of mine. If what you are saying is the truth then I promise I will not harm you.” His gaze travels from her to Steve then back to her, a new determination in them. He nods once and then her fingers are hovering right by his temple, a red hue flowing from them.

His eyes slowly take on the same colour before rolling back into his head, his hidden memories finally being brought to the surface, the truth being revealed.

It takes a few minutes, but he finally reopens his eyes, anguish written on his face.

“She... Steve, we must free her.” Steve sighs, not knowing what to say.

“Buck, how are we supposed to do that? We need to free the crew before we do anything. We cannot risk all of their lives.”

“Rumlow’s knowledge may be enough to bind her powers to his ship, his command. The only way to keep the seas safe is to release her, and soon,” Wanda pipes in.

“My crew can wait. And any man who wishes to leave may take a longboat and find their own way.” The Pirates look at the King’s man for a moment before nodding.

“Very well,” Steve says, turning back to his friend. “How do we free her from her bonds?”

“The same way they trapped her in the first place. And to do that we must go to the island where she was born.”

#pirate!bucky #pirate!Bucky Barnes x seagoddess!reader #pirate!au #pirate!Bucky barnes #Pirate!bucky x reader #bucky x goddess!reader #bucky x seagoddess!reader #Pirate!bucky x goddess!reader #bucky x reader au #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x reader slow burn

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ethan-torchio-angelo · 3 years

Text

Oh, love

Summary: It takes a year of trial and error, of love and heartbreak, for the two to finally realize there's no one else they'd rather be with. Or in which she becomes they're photographer for a summer tour and falls in love with the dark haired drummer.

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: swearing, angst, sexual content

A/N: I just want to say a huge thank you to @ethanesimp for proofreading and hyping this fic up, thank you so much amore! This is the first piece I've written for any of the members of maneskin, and also the longest thing I've ever written! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

January

It’s a call in the middle of the day that begins it all. She’s been in a shoot all morning, running around snapping photos of a wanna-be teen idol. She’s been here many times, being hired to do promo shots for someone who never makes it farther than this. But this call, she knows it’s different. She’s heard the name, seen some videos, she knows this won’t be like the rest. She’s instructed to clear her schedule for the week and to be in Rome by the end of the day.

The cold air hits her as she leaves the building, suitcase and camera bag in hand. This is the moment she’s been waiting for since joining the company, the chance to become a permanent fixture instead of hopping from gig to gig. She’s told that they requested her specifically, that one of the band members saw her collection from a festival last summer and was dead set on booking her for their summer tour. It’s all new to her, the feeling of being the first choice and not second best. She barely hears anything that’s said on the plane by their manager, too busy trying not to freak out.

It’s only a few hours plane ride, but it feels like a lifetime. Thoughts run wild in her head as the seconds tick by, she can’t remember the last time she’d been this excited, or nervous, for something. She’s greeted by more people from their team as she steps off the plane, and is quickly ushered to the villa they’ve been staying in. She barely has time to process the beautiful new city she’s in before she’s hidden by walls of an even more beautiful place.

They give her time to relax and unpack, but clear instructions to not leave the property without security. Things have been crazy, she’s told, since their winning last year fans have become more clever with their tactics. She laughs at some of the stories, but heeds the warning all the same. She’s seen quite a few things that have shaken her to her core, so she knows to be careful and wary.

Music floats through the halls and into her room, the band practicing on the other side of the villa. The music fills her veins with a feeling she can’t quite place, but it’s a welcome humming that gets her blood pumping. She grabs her camera and follows the melodies, laughing at the jokes thrown around in english whenever someone messes up. She angles herself behind a corner just right where she can take pictures while still being hidden from the band.

Her heart races at the scene in front of her. It’s a family like she’s never seen. They all seem to orbit around each other, pushing and pulling each other into their atmospheres. She watches Victoria dance around the room, bass in hand, strumming the lines to an old song. Thomas lays on the floor with a notebook reading off words, Damiano repeating them as he draws on eyeliner. And Ethan, who sits at his drum set, twirling the drumsticks in his hand as he observes the scene before him.

She captures picture after picture of their dynamic, taking the most of Ethan, who seems to have a magnetic pull to him. She only pulls herself from the moment when she’s spotted. “Sai, qualcuno chiamerebbe questo strano comportamento.”

The words are warm against her ear, and she jumps at the unexpected presence. She turns around, laughing to hide her embarrassment, trying to translate the words in her head. She freezes when she sees it’s Ethan, trying to figure out when he slipped away from the rest of the group.

“Ah, niente italiano. Er, it’s unusual, what you are doing.”

Another nervous laugh leaves her lips, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be creepy. There’s something about the way the group is when no one is watching, it’s hard to ignore, it needed to be captured.”

He smiles at that. It’s soft and warm and she feels as if the world has stopped spinning. A song plays between their hearts as a silence falls over them. There’s a beauty about him that makes it hard to focus on anything but him.

A series of crashes followed by loud curses in Italian breaks the spell that they were under and Ethan pulls himself away from her to go and manage his friends. She uses this moment as an excuse to slip away and tour the rest of the house, ending in the kitchen where dinner is being prepared. She snaps a few photos of the chefs cooking, already envisioning the blog post they’ll go along with.

When everyone has made their way to the dining room a toast is made; to new adventures, to new friends, and to family. Sweet wine and light rain makes the time pass faster and the evening flows into night easily. The group parts only moments after midnight, long days ahead calling them to catch up on sleep now.

The month flows by with days and nights blurring together. It seems the studio is really the only place they call home, spending every waking moment in the room that houses their instruments. She stays with them through the long hours, snapping photos of the weird things they get themselves up to. Her hard drive slowly fills with collections of each band member, ones for the public eye and ones she sends to them to make them laugh.

The end of the month brings a party, something small to celebrate sold out tour dates. A night out to a local bar and far too many drinks. She dances with Victoria, who has become her best friend in the few weeks she’s been with them. Damiano and his girlfriend are not far away, but much more caught up in their own world. Thomas has disappeared somewhere, no doubt warming someone's bed for the night. But through all the commotion, she can’t stop watching Ethan.

He’s sitting at a table nursing the only drink he’s had that night, planning to take on the role of babysitter at the end of the night once everyones had too much to drink. He drums his fingers on the table, following the beat of each song that plays. He seems lost in his own world, content with being by himself. She moves away from Victoria, who easily finds another partner, and makes her way to the table.

“Sembri solo,” the words fall from her lips quietly as she takes a seat beside him.

He smiles at her, “Seems your little lessons are paying off.”

She blushes at that, not realizing he’d picked up on her daily lessons with their English tutor. “Only enough to not seem like a tourist.”

A small chuckle escapes his lips, and she wishes she could bottle the sound.

“But don’t change the subject. Tonight was about having fun, celebrating a big accomplishment. Yet you’re sitting here alone.”

He sighs at her insistence, “Sometimes we don’t need to celebrate everything so publicly.”

Something pulls at her heart. She can’t imagine having such a public life, but she understands how it must feel to never have anything to yourself. Before she knows what she’s doing, she places a hand on his arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze, a light tingle shooting between the two of them.

She pulls her hand away quickly, a small blush forming on both their cheeks. He offers her a small smile to make the moment less awkward, and she returns it.

The night ends not too much later, the rest of the crew having decided that warm beds would be much more comfortable than the crowded bar. She helps Ethan herd their friends home, laughing along with him at their drunken antics. Victoria jokingly calls them mom and dad as they help her to bed, and the blush that was plastered on her face earlier that night makes a second appearance.

It’s almost morning by the time she makes it to her own room. Ethan isn’t far behind her, realizing for the first time tonight that they share the same hallway. “Buona notte,” comes his voice from down the hall.

She turns to face him, catching herself stuck in his stare. She can’t quite place the look in his eyes, but it gives her butterflies all the same.

“Buona notte.”

February

February brings more time in the studio and less time outside the walls of the Villa. While winter in Rome is not like the ones you’d experience in colder places, it still brings a chill to her bones. She steals one of Victoria's sweaters after a night spent lounging under the stars, a small break from a busy schedule.

A fire had been lit and a bottle of sweet wine was making its way around the group. She’d set her camera aside for the evening, planning on enjoying a night without the calls of work. She doesn’t know when it happens, but suddenly she’s swaying to a drunken beat in the arms of Damiano who can’t stop giggling at her two left feet. The man had not believed her when she said she couldn’t dance, but was now biting his tongue as they moved around the courtyard.

As the night seemed to come to a lull, a game of truth or dare was proposed and all were in agreement. She finds herself sitting beside Thomas on the floor as Victoria begins the game, a stupid dare aimed towards Damiano that earns him a new haircut. The night drags on in a flurry of laughter and silly dares. By midnight half the group is wearing someone else’s clothes, and the others have barely any on.

She’s moved to be sitting by Ethan, who has an arm casually draped across her shoulder. It shouldn’t feel so electric, his skin touching hers, but it does and it’s the only thing she can focus on. Her heart feels like it’s almost beating out of her chest and the blush on her face isn’t caused by the alcohol in her system.

Damiano is the first to notice her situation, and starts poking fun at her whenever it was his turn to ask her something. It started off innocent enough, small questions aimed towards her love life, but it soon caught the attention of Thomas who was the first one to issue a dare towards the girl. This was how she’d ended up sitting beside Ethan, cuddled into his side. Ethan was oblivious to the things going on around them, until Victoria dared her to kiss him.

It seems as though time stops, the laughter fades and the silence becomes deafening. She turns towards Ethan, a mixture of panic and excitement painted on her face. He smiles at her, “We don’t have to, amore.”

“A dares a dare.” She shrugs at him.

A round of cheers raises up around them as the two lean in. It’s meant to be only a small peck, something good enough to count in the eyes of those around them. But as she goes to pull away his hand reaches up to tangle in her hair and he pulls her closer. Their lips meet again without any hesitation and it’s like the world lights up around them. Blame it on the alcohol, but if she were to die right now she’d be happy.

They pull away a second later, a small laugh leaving both of them, chests rising at an unsteady rhythm.

“Awe, they’re blushing! How cute!” Comes the voice of Damiano, further pulling a blush from the girl.

She grabs one of the pillows beside her and aims it at his head, laughing when she misses terribly.

The night fades into morning and they all climb to the roof to watch the sunrise. It’s a moment she wants tattooed in her memories forever. She’s got her arms wrapped around Victoria and the three boys huddle around them, alcohol still flows through their veins and they’re all singing different versions of the same song.

March

The beginning of spring in Rome is magical. Flowers start to bloom, mornings are coated in a light dusting of rain, and clothing starts to become less of a necessity. She takes photos of the band trapezing the streets. The Villa studio has become too familiar, moving instead to a studio in the city.

By now, a routine has been put in place. Mornings sipping coffee and eating fresh pastries while she laughs at the varying states of wake the band is in. Afternoons in the studio, recording their new album while she collects photos and videos for their ‘making of’. Evenings spent in restaurants and bars, eating some of the best food she’s ever had, and she swears she’ll never eat anything better.

She’s never fallen in love with a city like this before. Maybe it’s the city, or maybe it’s the people she’s with, but she swears she never wants to leave. It suffocates her in the best way possible, the feeling of being home. She hopes that when the tours over and her contracts up, that she’ll move here, maybe even keep these people she’s grown so close to in the past few months.

She’s thrown out of the daydream by Thomas yelling at her in a mix of italian and english for not paying attention. It’s the middle of the afternoon, they’ve taken a lunch break at a restaurant down the block, and Thomas is expressively telling a story. His hands are in the air and he’s almost knocked his wine glass over too many times to count.

Damiano sits across from her, fiddling with her camera, snapping his own photos that he presents to her proudly. She laughs at every one, but never discourages his actions. Victoria is on her left, Ethan on her right, both vying for her approval as they argue over something. She’s overwhelmed by the different directions her brain is being tugged, but the hand that snakes its way into hers calms her.

She looks down to see Ethan rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand, a soft smile grazing his lips as they make eye contact. She returns it, whispering a small thank you to the boy.

That night, she lays in bed, in the room she’s begun to finally call hers, thinking of the boy with stars in his eyes. She doesn’t know if it’s feeling like she finally belongs somewhere, or the wine that still coats her veins, but there’s something about him that she wishes she could become a part of. She wants to wrap herself in it and never leave. She’s falling for him, hard. Vaffanculo.

April

It is Victoria's birthday and everyone has decided that she must be princess for the day. Ethan and Damiano have been up since dawn making an extravagant breakfast, something that should be put in a five star restaurant. Her and Thomas had disappeared shortly after waking, returning with a stack of presents that was almost as tall as him, and the best bouquet of flowers she could find.

After decorating the patio with anything and everything they could find, it was a mad dash to Victoria's room to wake her up. She protested, claiming that sleep was more important than being awake, but at the mention of presents she was the first one out of the room.

It was a morning of happiness, and a much needed break from their hectic schedule. She recorded the entire day, from the dramatic wake up call to the celebratory sparklers that were set off that night, it was all captured.

After breakfast the princess requested a trip to the beach, and no one would dare refuse her. They found something private, a little hidden oasis an hour's drive from the villa. They spend hours there, switching between swimming and laying in the sun. She finds herself alone on the sand with Ethan at one point, watching the others like proud parents.

She tries not to think about how close his body feels to her, how she can feel the heat his body is radiating seeping into her, the smell of his body wash. He’s invading all of her senses and she’s trying so hard to focus on anything but him. “Let’s go on a walk?”

His voice is warm as the question escapes his lips. She turns to look at him and she’s thankful to be able to blame the sun for the blush on her cheeks. She nods and gets up to follow him, brushing off the sand that’s clinging to her bathing suit and wrapping a towel around her shoulders.

They disappear down the beach, walking side by side, a comfortable silence enveloping them. It’s not till they’re halfway down the beach that either of them speaks. “Are you enjoying your time?”

She doesn’t miss the hint of worry that laces his voice, and she’s quick to reassure him that she is. “Yes, very much. This is probably the best job I’ve had in years.”

He softly chuckles at her words, “Good. Good. We’re trying to make you feel like one of us, don’t want you running away.”

She’s grateful for the confession, glad that they don’t see her as just another person that works for them. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

He bumps her shoulder with his, a small smile forming on his face, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They head back to the group soon after, realizing they’ve let the day slip away and need to leave soon if they want to make their dinner reservations.

A small vineyard hidden in the valley, they’ve booked the place so it’s just them, and ordered every bottle of wine on the menu to taste. They laugh away the night, enjoying plates of delicious food and letting their minds wander. A gorgeous cake is brought out at the end, half of which ends up destroyed thanks to an impromptu food fight. More presents are opened and Victoria starts tearing up, blubbering about how much she loves the idiots she’s surrounded with.

They walk through the dark streets of Rome, singing happy birthday loudly in every language they know. It’s unusually cold, but she’s somehow been wrapped in Ethan’s jacket, his arm slung over her shoulder. She’s holding Vic’s hand, Damiano and Thomas taking turns with her camera.

The air surrounding them is electrified, she looks up into the sky and thanks the stars for the life she’s living.

May

The summer tour is fast approaching, and nerves are starting to set in. The already high energy group somehow is bouncing off the walls even more, making for an interesting collection of photos. Nerves are starting to get the better of them, and she often finds one of them wandering around the Villa at odd hours of the night. She’s good at being able to channel her nerves into something else, focusing all of the energy on a new project.

One night though, it gets the better of her. She tosses and turns in her bed for hours before she decides that sleep isn’t coming. Instead of lying in bed willing her brain to shut off, she throws on a pair of shoes and heads for the front door, thinking a walk in the warm spring air will do her some good. What she doesn’t expect to find is Ethan sitting out on the terrace, cigarette in one hand and a book in the other, lost in his own world.

She doesn’t mean to catch his attention, hoping to allow him this little bit of uninterrupted peace, but he spots her anyway. “Buona serata,” He rasps, voice laced with the quietness of the night.

“Buona serata, Ethan.” She returns the greeting.

He motions for her to sit down in the chair beside him, closing the book and placing it on the table. “What’s troubling your mind tonight?”

She’s not used to the way someone can read her so well, but there’s something about Ethan that brings her comfort in the fact that he can. “Nerves, I guess. I’ve never done a gig this big, never spent so much time with one group. I’m used to being moved around a lot, still getting used to being a permanent fixture I guess.”

The words are heavy on her tongue, never having voiced her worries out loud before. He takes a long drag of the cigarette hanging from his lips, “La vita ci dà solo ciò che sa che possiamo gestire.”

“Some would think you were a poet in a past life.”

A small laugh escapes his lips, and he shakes his head. A comfortable silence falls over them and she wishes she could bottle this feeling to keep with her forever. He turns to look at her, and it’s hard to put into words the feeling that washes over him. He’s not sure where it comes from, the urge to kiss her, but it sends him spiralling.

He reaches his hand up to brush a few strands of hair out of her face, “Le stelle brillano più luminose nei tuoi occhi, amore.”

The words and his actions cause her heart to raise and her breath to hitch. They’re close now, the closest they’ve been since that night in February, and all she can think about is that kiss that they shared.

Neither knows who leaned in first, but suddenly their lips are touching and it is everything and nothing like they remembered. While the other kiss had been hesitant and brief, this one was full of purpose. Their noses brush and their breaths tangle together, he bits her lip for a moment and a small moan escapes her. He swears it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

He grabs at her hips, lifting her from the chair and placing her so she’s straddling his lap. She tangles her fingers in his hair and tugs softly, earning a groan from the man. The sound sends shockwaves through her and she rocks her hips against his almost involuntarily. His lips move from hers to the side of her neck, pulling small whimpers from her as he nips and sucks at the skin. It’s everything she’s ever imagined and more. The feeling of his body pressed to hers, the pleasure he can so easily give to her.

She moves her hands down to fumble with the hem of his shirt and that’s when he pulls away. “While I would normally love to do that here, how about we continue this somewhere more private?”

She nods eagerly and removes herself from his lap. He all but drags her inside the villa and towards his room. She trips over her own feet and they both laugh at her clumsiness, falling into each other as he tries to catch her but trips over his own feet in turn. He leans in to kiss her again as their bodies collide, this one sweeter and softer than the previous one.

The moment passes quickly and soon she’s being dragged through the halls again, only to be met with a half asleep Damiano standing in the doorway of his room. They stop in their tracks, jumping apart, trying to act like nothing was happening. “It’s rude to have a party and not invite everyone, you know.”

She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, glad that he didn’t know what had been happening moments prior. Ethan is quick to explain that they were just having a cup of tea on the terrace and were now heading to bed, and thankfully the lie is believed. Damiano wishes them a goodnight, heading back into his room, and the two are left in silence in the hallway.

“Maybe we should go to bed,” he whispers to her.

Her heart sinks, but she nods her head in agreement and turns to walk back down the hall to her room. She’s not really sure how the night was going to end, but this was definitely not how she wanted it to; walking in silence next to someone her heart aches for, pretending that nothing had happened between them.

He walks her up to her door, still ever the gentleman, and places a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Buona notte, amore.”

The words should not sound as sad as they do, and she tries her hardest to keep the tears welling up in her eyes at bay as she watches him turn and walk away.

June

How do you go back to being just friends after making out with someone? Well, you don’t. At least, not fully. They dance around each other without knowing it, avoiding any contact that could lead to something more or allude to something else, but there are still moments where the world seems to slip away and it’s just the two of them.

The tour kicks off at a festival in Amsterdam. Blue skies and sunny days greet them as they get off the plane. They have a day to explore before their first show, and no one can decide how to spend it. In the end, Victoria drags Thomas off to do some shopping, Damiano plans a trip to a few museums with his girlfriend, and she is left with Ethan.

She’s not truly stuck with him, but she doesn’t feel like wandering a forgein city all by herself. Since the night in the Villa, they haven’t spent longer than a few minutes alone together, both refusing to acknowledge what had happened.

A trip to the beach seems like the best place to be, and within the hour she’s lounging in the sun listening to Ethan read a book. It’s peaceful, the sound of the waves and his voice lulling her into a half sleep. She’s got a drink in her hands, something sweet and fruity, and she’s sharing a cigarette with Ethan. It’s a scene she thinks one would find in a movie.

She rolls herself over so she’s laying on her back, staring up at Ethan who sits beside her. She places her hand on his leg and traces random shapes into his skin. Goosebumps rise in the wake of her fingertips, and he tries to stay focused on the book in his hands but finds it hard to do so. “You are very distracting, amore.”

She looks up at him innocently and she can’t help but admire him. His hair is tucked away in a bun, but a few pieces have fallen out and are flying in the gentle breeze. He’s only wearing a pair of swim trunks, broad chest on full display. He catches her roaming eyes as they make their way back to his face, a smirk slowly forming on his face. “Or maybe I’m the one distracting you, no?”

She smiles shyly and looks away from him, because yes, he is distracting her, and she’s finding it very hard to not kiss him right now. He chuckles at her, reaching his hand towards her face and turning it back towards him. He leans down towards her, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

All she can do is nod, and a second later his lips are on hers. It’s sweet and slow, she can taste the tobacco on his lips and it’s intoxicating. She moves so she’s sitting up, leaning into him more, the world around them fading out until all that is left is them.

A few days later they find themselves in a hotel room in Munich. There’s music playing and everyone’s laughing. Her camera hasn’t left her hands all night, every moment needing to be captured as they ride the after show high.

She’s in the middle of recording Thomas’ one man act when a pair of arms wrap themselves around her waist. She knows exactly who it is by the scent that invades her nostrils and sends her brain into overdrive. She lets out a sudden, loud laugh, as his fingers trace themselves up and down her sides, collapsing into his chest as she struggles to breath.

He picks her up and spins her around, letting out an equally loud laugh at her protests. He’s happy, and it’s something that looks better on him than any designer outfit he could ever buy.

He falls onto one of the beds, pulling her down with him. She lands beside him tangled in his arms, he’s looking at her with a goofy grin on his face. The world seems to silence around them as their eyes lock. Her smile softens and she reaches her hand over to brush an eyelash off his cheek, he catches her hand before she can pull it away and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently.

He looks ethereal in this moment, hair strewn all over the place, a wild look in his eyes. She reaches for her camera and brings it up to capture him, never wanting to forget this moment.

The streets of Prague are empty, save for the two of them walking hand in hand down them. It’s early, almost too early to be considered an acceptable time to be awake, but they continue on nonetheless. A wild craving for something sweet had brought upon their adventure, and with the look she was giving him, he couldn’t say no to accompanying her.

They had been sitting on the balcony of her hotel room, watching the sun starting to peak out over the horizon and sharing a cigarette when she had turned to him with a mischievous look in her eyes. “I want something sweet.”

The comment had earned her an offer to order room service, but she shakes her head at the idea, standing up and walking back into the room. “No. Something real, maybe a coffee too.”

He follows her in, watching her pull on a shirt to cover the bralette she had been sitting in. “È presto, amore. Let’s go to bed. We can order something when the sun is awake also.”

She smiles at his words, but makes no move to stop dressing. She grabs her wallet and room key before heading to the door, stopping to turn and look at him, a question in her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll come with you.” He says after a moment, throwing on his jacket and walking over to her.

It’s 7:30 in the morning, the sun is starting to make it’s daily appearance, and they are happy. The small bakery they stumble into is just opening for the day and they’re greeted by the owner, an older lady with the sweetest smile. She speaks in broken English, an obvious language barrier between the group of them, but no one seems to mind.

She orders herself a poppy strudel and a coffee, Ethan ordering a croissant and an espresso, before sitting down at one of the small tables. He sits beside her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. He presses a soft kiss into the crown of her head and she sighs in content.

Moments like this are what she lives for. She might only be here because she works for them, but somewhere along the way she’s become part of their little family. She looks over to Ethan who’s lost in conversation with the owner, and she whispers to herself, “Penso di essermi innamorato di te.”

She doesn’t know that he hears her, his smile spreading wider across his face.

July

The turnover from June to July happens mid concert in Stockholm. She swears she can feel it, the sudden shift, a slight change in the air. She’s running around in front of the stage capturing pictures of the band in what she’s come to call their ‘natural habitat’. There’s an indescribable buzz in the air as they perform, the crowd becoming louder and louder with each song.

She keeps catching Ethans eye and there’s something primal in the way he looks at her. During a song switch, while Damiano rambles to the crowd, he motions her on stage. He tells her to get closer to everyone, promising that they won’t bite, and she giggles at him. She does what he says nonetheless, capturing some up close photos of the band and a few great shots of the crowd.

All too soon the show is ending and everyone’s piling into the car, a small party taking place in the backseat. Damiano has music blasting from his phone, Victoria and Thomas are dancing along to the beat, and Ethan is belting out the lyrics. She watches the group of them, laughing so hard her sides hurt, and she’s never felt more at home.

When they get to the hotel he’s quick to pull her towards his room, thankfully void of a roommate for the night. The second they get into the room, his lips are on hers. He pulls her close to his body and her hands tangle themselves in his hair. It’s nothing like any of their previous kisses, it’s heated and fast, every thought trying to be conveyed by the fever of it. She pulls back slightly to catch her breath and he leans in to whisper in her ear, “Join me in the shower?”

It’s not so much a question as a statement, but she nods her head eagerly, quick to follow him into the bathroom. He strips himself of the few clothes he’s wearing (most having been thrown off during the show), before turning to her. He reaches his arms out towards her, pulling her close to him and tugging on her shirt. She barely registers him pulling off her clothes, too focused on his body in front of her.

She’s never seen him so bare, and she’s having a hard time focussing on anything else. It’s not until her body hits the warm water that she snaps back to reality. He looks wild, eyes blown with lust, a wicked smile on his face. She firmly plants her lips on his, moaning into the kiss as he grabs at her. His hands are skilled and know every way to pull those delicious sounds from her lips.

It’s quick and dirty, and it is everything she has ever imagined it would be.

An hour later, she’s tangled up in the sheets of his bed, his entire being engulfing her as they watch the stars outside the window. She wonders if they are watching them too.

Paris is the city of lights, a statement she’s never been more sure of. The streets are lit with every light, shining brighter than the stars. She’s in a permanent state of bliss, after the night she shared with Ethan. Their relationship is hidden from the public, living in stolen moments and nights in hotel rooms, but she’s never been happier to be someone's dirty secret.

The band is electric on stage, something about the city they’re in taking their performance to a whole new level. The show goes on longer than it should have, but none of them even care when their manager comes over to reprimand them. They hang around to greet fans and take photos with anyone and everyone, and it’s not until security has to kick them out that they finally leave.

They find themselves in a bar, not sure what part of the city they’re in, but no one cares when the night feels like this. They drink expensive drinks that they can’t pronounce the name of, dance to songs they don’t know the words to, and feel more alive than they’ve ever felt. It’s like the world turned itself up to 11 just for them.

She dances with Ethan, not caring who sees because the night is theirs and no one cares. She kisses him in the middle of the dance floor and he pulls her into a vacant bathroom. It’s hot and heavy and the smell of alcohol envelopes them, but they couldn’t care less. Is this love? They don’t care. They’re young and dumb, and well, you only live once.

Back at the hotel they spend the night wrapped in bedsheets on the balcony, a bottle of champagne and a pack of cigarettes shared between the two of them. He points to the stars, a stupid grin on his face, “Le stelle brillano solo per noi.”

She snorts, throwing an abandoned pillow at him. He grabs her arm and pulls her into him, tickling her sides until she’s begging him to stop, tears staining her cheeks but a laugh like no other leaving her lips.

As the night bleeds into morning, and both are hazy with sleep, he whispers to her, “Sei il mio universo.”

They walk down the streets of London, his arm slung over her shoulders as she rambles away, both blissfully unaware of the few fans snapping photos down the street. They don’t notice the group of girls following them, cameras and phones in hand, capturing picture after picture of the couple.

By the time they reach the shop, the photos are already out into the world.

As they order, reposts and comments start flowing, and their phones start lighting up with notifications.

Before they can pay, she’s crying.

Rule number one of being in the public eye; never look at the comments, distance yourself from social media as much as possible, it will never end well.

The final stop in Rome was supposed to be a welcome home. A big celebration was to occur after their last concert, but now, it’s nothing more than finding the quickest way back home. She sits in one of the dressing rooms the entire show, waiting for it to end, scrolling through her social media.

She knows she shouldn’t be, that’ll all it’s doing is hurting her, making her feel worse. But she can’t stop. The comments aimed towards her and the drummer are terrible, and she wishes she could just delete herself from existence. They aren’t even dating, at least not officially, but she’s been deemed the girlfriend from hell. She’s unknowingly stolen something that never belonged to anyone to begin with.

Damianos girlfriend is in the room with her, telling her of her own horror stories dealing with fans, and she knows she’s just trying to help, but she really wishes she would just shut up. She loves the girl to death, she’s been a blessing this entire time, but she feels her mind is too far gone to be saved from the madness.

It’s only a few minutes later that the band wanders in, the usual after show high replaced with a sudden heaviness. Ethan comes to stand by her after putting his things away and pulls her into a tight hug. “Amore mio.”

He’s sweaty and could definitely use a shower, but the hug is comforting. She rubs his back soothingly, knowing this is just as hard on him as it is on her. Their management team has told everyone to remain quiet about it, disappearing from the internet until further notice while they figure out how to manage the situation. It’s maddening, the inability to speak out and protect her. He wishes he could snap his fingers and everything would be fixed, but he knows nothing is ever that easy.

They make their way back to the villa in silence, the car filled with a strangeness. She’s sandwiched between Victoria and Ethan, leaning on the bassist's shoulder, watching her play a game on her phone. It’s not how anyone wanted to end the tour, but the world is a strange and cruel place. Everything good always comes burning down.

August

There’s a party at the villa one night. Things have calmed down enough that she doesn’t spiral every time she looks at her phone, but there’s something in the way Ethan acts around her that makes her uneasy. She’s standing out on the patio, trying to avoid the questioning eyes from everyone in the house. She hasn’t spoken to Ethan all day, and the alcohol coursing through her veins makes her even angrier than she knows she should be.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees him walk out the door beside her, a small scoff leaving her lips as he tries to speak to her.

“Couldn’t be bothered to talk to me all day, what’s changed that you’ve decided to grace me with your presence?”

He looks at her, stunned. “I don’t get what you mean.”

She scoffs again, placing her glass on the table across from her. “Since London you’ve done nothing but ignore me. I get that this wasn’t easy for you, but it wasn’t exactly a cake walk for me. I needed you, Ethan, and you left me.” Her voice is raw and scratchy, the feeling of wanting to cry tickling the back of her throat.

“I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how Dami does it, how he can deal with the comments and messages. My brain won’t shut off, I can’t stop thinking about how if I had been more careful, I could’ve protected you and none of this would’ve happened. I feel stupid for thinking I could have. I hate seeing you like this, I wish I could take you away from all of this.” His voice slowly lowers, till it’s nothing more than a whisper, words meant only for her.

“I was never what you wanted, was I? This was just all some stupid game to you. I was just someone you could use to get off.” Her voice is laced with pain, a small crack coming out as she speaks.

He shakes his head, laughing slightly, and turns to look away from her. He walks a few steps before turning to face her again, “No. No, you were exactly what I wanted. You were everything to me. We were the same type of crazy.”

“I don’t understand Ethan, then what was the problem? This feels like a confession and a break up all in one.” She crosses her arms and leans against the wall, watching as he pulls a cigarette out from his pocket and lights it.

The familiar sight creates something warm in her chest, memories of summer nights like this flash through her mind. Spending the evening sitting on the balcony of different hotel rooms, sharing a cigarette between the two of them while they let the events of the day soak in. She’d give anything to go back to one of those moments. He blows a breath of smoke out and starts to speak again, “I don’t know, amore. I don’t. I want to tell you I love you, to hold you and call you mine. But I can’t.”

“Can’t, or won’t.” It’s not a question, but a statement.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t turn this into something it’s not. I want to, believe me, I do.” He steps towards her and reaches out his arms, “But we both know we can’t.”

She doesn’t know where the tears come from, but they’re there, pooling in her eyes. It’s only been a few months since they’ve met, there were no promises to be anything more than a summer adventure, but this doesn’t feel right. Her heart should not be breaking at the thought of losing someone she barely even knows.

He stops when he notices her state, reaching out to wipe the tears falling down her cheeks. “Merda. Merda! This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.”

She looks up at him through clouded eyes, “Then how was this supposed to go, Ethan? Breaking my heart wasn’t supposed to hurt me this bad? I was supposed to smile and tell you that I'm not madly in love with you and these past few months meant nothing to me?”

His heart breaks slowly at her words. He never meant for the night to go this way, and he wishes he could just pull her into his arms and tell her he loved her, that everything could be okay. But he can’t, so he pulls away from her, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

They’re the only words he can manage to get out without breaking down. He takes a second to watch her, memorize all the features of her face, before turning around and walking away. It’s a sight that rips her heart out, watching his form disappear back into the house. She knows this is it, the goodbye she’d been preparing for these past few weeks, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

Before she can help herself, she’s calling after him. “Being in love isn’t a weakness, you know!” But the words fall upon deaf ears.

Vic finds her standing in the same spot an hour later. She’s got a smoke lit in her hand, the third one from the pack. She hasn’t touched her lips to any of them, but the smell and the feeling of holding it brings her comfort. She was never really one to smoke, but she found it entrancing to watch Ethan do it, and right now, it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. It’s silly, how something so small can mean so much.

Her heart aches in the most unbearable way, but she can’t bring herself to do anything about it. Vic doesn’t speak, just stands beside her. She doesn’t need to ask to know that she is well aware of the events that have just unfolded, she’s just grateful for the company.

September

It’s stupidly hot in London for the time of year, but mother nature loves her unexpected heat waves. She’s home now, having left Rome shortly after the fight with Ethan, assuring their manager that she would be able to edit and upload all of the photos and videos from the comfort of her own flat.

Vic and Thomas had driven her to the airport, had walked her all the way to security and hugged her tightly before letting her go. She’d promised to keep in touch and Victoria had made her pinky swear that if she was ever in Rome again, she’d come visit. The flight was short, and she was glad the time difference was only an hour.

Her sister had picked her up and dropped her off at her flat, and she’d immediately collapsed into bed. That was three days ago, she’d barely moved since. Someone had caught her at the airport and the photos were everywhere, articles upon articles had been released, she’d had non stop messages from everyone, but all she could bring herself to do was turn her phone off.

Her photos make it to the front of magazines, her articles getting featured all over the globe, she’s made a name for herself. She gets emails from prospective clients wanting to book her in at shows, her boss sending her information for more high end gigs, but all she can think about is her drummer boy.

Her phone still sits turned off on her desk, she refuses to turn it on for anything, resorting to using only her email, but she knows everything that’s going on with the band. She’d been asked to join them again in a few months, to become a permanent part of their team. She hasn’t been able to reply.

She gets panicky thinking about seeing him again, about the things people will say if she’s caught in the same country as him. She’s stopped receiving death threats, but there’s still comments that creep in, fans thanking whatever gods made them seperate.

Victoria tries to reach out every few days, worried about the state of person she’s become, but she can’t even manage to type out an I’m okay. The world seems to be too fast and too slow, too bright and too dark, too much and not enough. Her heart aches and it’s a pain so deep she thinks she’ll never be okay again. Love is a cruel, cruel creature.

October

She finally brings herself to go back to work at the beginning of the month. She books herself in for a small band, someone no one really knows but she hopes they will one day. She’s in Amsterdam now, trying hard not to think of the memories the place brings. The band is good, the music heavy and the beat strong. They find a way to tell a story that leaves everyone with a soul searching question by the end of the night. Do you know who you are?

She’s only with them for a few nights, a short gig, but something she needed to get the ball rolling, to remember why she was doing this in the first place. After submitting the photos and writing an article that sends another wave of offers her way, she takes a few days to explore the city. It was wonderful before, when the air was warm and it felt like there was magic enveloping the city. But now, with the change of seasons, it’s even more beautiful than she remembers.

She walks the empty streets one night, huddled in the safety of her hoodie, camera in hand, and captures moments. A couple standing under a street light, a cafe closing for the night, kids running. It’s not until she hears a laugh she’s all too familiar with that her heart stops and her blood turns cold. She turns, ever so carefully, hidden behind the side of a building, and sees him.

He’s beautiful, even more than she remembers, and he looks happy. He’s walking with two girls, the resemblance making her sure it’s his sisters, but in this light she can’t be sure. She’s never met them, but he talked about them often, and she felt a pang in her chest for the homesickness he must have felt.

She tries to run, tries her hardest to get away, but she’s in an alley that leads nowhere and he’ll for sure be able to see her no matter what. The voices of the three get closer and she starts to panic, but there’s nowhere to go and she knows she’ll have to pull on her big girl pants and face him. But her heart won’t stop beating so loudly and she’s afraid she’ll break if he looks at her.

She pretends to be busy with her camera, focusing all of her attention on settings she knows are perfect, but a voice carries it’s way to her ears. “Hey stranger.”

It’s soft and it makes her knees weak and she hates herself for it. She looks up at him and his expecting eyes and her heart breaks all over again. She can’t help it, but suddenly there are tears running down her face and she can’t breathe. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.”

He places a hand on her shoulder but she pushes it away, “No it’s not.” She says between breaths.

“I shouldn’t be here, I should not be here. I have to go.”

She turns to leave, but one of his sisters stops her, “Let us walk you home, please. My brother may be a dumbass, but we have good genes. Let us make sure you get back safe.”

She doesn’t know why the words calm her, but she nods her head and lets the girls lead her in the direction of her hotel. The twins, Eleanora and Lucrezia, talk to her in fits of italian and english, trying to keep her brain occupied. But her whole body is on high alert, too aware of the man trailing behind them and how much of a fool she must look like. She feels like a mess, like someone drowning in a foot of water, but she can’t help it.

They walk her into the lobby of her hotel, the girls wish her a goodnight before shoving Ethan towards her. She doesn’t want to talk to him, and he must see it in her eyes because he tries to leave. But his sisters won’t let him, they stand tall and he looks like a child being scolded by his parents.

“Can we sit?” He asks, pointing to a couch.

She doesn’t want to, she wants to run up to her room and cry, but she nods. They sit and it is silent. Her stomach is in her throat, her eyes hurt from trying not to cry, but she sits and she waits. She studies his face, the crease in between his eyebrows that only forms when he’s confused or thinking, she wants to reach over and smooth it out. He turns towards her and catches her staring, a small smile forming on his lips.

He takes her in, allowing himself to really look at her for the first time in months, and something in his heart breaks. How did he ever let her go? Why was he so stupid to ruin something so beautiful?

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out before he can stop himself. “I’m so sorry, amore. I know I can’t say it enough, I know it’s not as easy as that, but I’m sorry and I love you. So much it hurts.”

The words hit her like a truck, they knock the air out of her lungs and the tears she was trying so hard to keep at bay start falling down her cheeks. She stands up so fast she gets light headed, “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

She turns and starts walking towards the elevators. He calls after her, but she’s determined to leave, to get away. He runs after her, catching her right before the doors of the elevator close, and he wishes she didn’t look so broken. The doors slip close and she is gone and he feels like he could break something.

Her room is cold and she wishes she was home in her flat. She throws herself into the shower, the water burning her skin, and she sobs. She sobs so hard her body shakes, she screams and hopes no one can hear her.

He’s still standing by the elevator, crying now, too. His body aches in a way he’s never felt before and he hates that he isn’t holding her right now. He knows he messed up, he beats himself up for it everyday, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay, but he has to do something.

November

The ground is covered in snow. It is peaceful and quiet. He’s not used to this, the cold and the snow, but he understands the appeal. He’s standing outside her flat, or at least what he hopes is her flat, Victoria wasn’t exactly sure which one was hers. He’s bought her favourite flowers and he’s prepared to pour his soul out to her.

He paces outside her door for what feels like hours, trying to get himself to knock, but before he can, she opens the door. “Ethan?”

Her voice is soft, his heart sings at the sound of it. He turns to face her and the sight before him takes his breath away. She’s wearing a dress that shows off everything he loved about her, a coat thrown over her arm, she looks like an angel on earth. “Do you have a moment?”

She’s running late for dinner with her sister, but she’s afraid if she says no to him, she’ll never see him again. She hasn’t forgotten that night in Amsterdam, wishes she would have been brave enough to stay and talk, but she can’t change the past. “Yes, yes. Come in.”

She lets him into her flat, taking the flowers he hands her, and brings him over to her couch. “So.”

The script he’d had prepared in his head is suddenly gone from his memories. “I’ve thought this through a thousand times, planned this out a million different ways, but I can’t figure out the right words to say. I’m sorry, amore mio. I can’t say that enough. I never should have left you, shouldn’t have let things happen the way they did. Loving you was easy, and I think that scared me.”

She takes a deep breath, not sure what to say. She feels tears bubbling in the back of her throat and she hates that this is her response to everything revolving around him. He notices the shift in her, can tell she’s about to cry, “Amore mio, please don’t cry. I’ll start and then neither of us will be able to do anything else.”

She laughs quietly at his words, “I don’t think there are any tears left inside of me. I cried them all for you.”

His heart breaks at her confession. He moves closer to her and wraps himself around her. She hates how easy it is for her to melt into his touch, but she enjoys the comfort of it. “Tell me how to fix this. Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me. I’m yours amore.”

“Please, don’t leave me again.” The words are barely more than a whisper, but he hears them.

He pulls her tight to his chest and holds her. She doesn’t care about anything else but this moment and him.

She wakes up the next morning in her bed. The sun is streaming in through the windows and she can smell Ethans body wash laced in the fibres of her bed sheets. She rolls over, expecting to see him beside her, but is met with an empty bed. Her heart sinks, afraid that everything he’d said was too good to be true, that he’d left her, again. But the sounds coming from her kitchen prove her wrong.

She gets up, quickly changing out of the dress she was wearing the night before, and follows the sound of clinking dishes. She’s greeted by the sight of a shirtless Ethan, back turned to her, hunched over her stove. There’s the smell of coffee brewing and something soft playing from the radio. If she doesn’t think too hard, she can almost imagine this being a daily occurrence.

He turns around when he hears the floorboards creak, a smile on his face, “Buongiorno amore mio.”

“Buongiorno.”

He hands her a cup of coffee and plates the pancakes he’s made. She smiles at the domesticality of it all. He sits down beside her on the couch and they eat in silence, leaning against one another. Afterwards, she washes the dishes and he dries them. Neither one of them says anything until the sun is high in the sky and they are laying in bed together. “I love you.”

It is the first time she’s said it in such a permanent way, she recites it like it is a fact written in history books. He looks down at her, she’s curled up on his chest, a hazy look on her face. He reaches down to tuck her hair behind her ear and leans his head towards her, “Ti voglio bene.” He seals the statement with a soft kiss.

It’s light and barley there, she chases after his lips as he pulls away, and he chuckles in a way that sends butterflies into her stomach. She places herself on his lap, weaving her fingers into his hair as his tether to her waist. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

He stares at her, memorizing all of the features of her face. He loses himself in thoughts of days spent exactly like this, of a life he hopes isn’t just a dream. He flips them over carefully, laying her down on the bed. He hovers over her, arms on either side of her head, “I’m going to show you how much I love you.”

December

“Move in with me.”

It’s early in the morning and they’re sitting in bed sharing a pot of coffee and a pack of cigarettes. His arm is wrapped around her shoulders, she’s leaned into his side, and he whispers those words.

She hasn’t yet told him about the offer from the band's manager, to become their permanent photographer, but it seems like the perfect moment to. “Yes.”

“Really?”

She laughs at his shock, “I was offered to come and work for the band full time, I haven’t replied yet. But I want to take the job.”

A goofy grin makes its way onto his face, “Do it! Right now. Tell them yes, come and stay with us. Be my girlfriend?”

He’s rambling and he doesn’t care. She smiles at him, her heart bursting with love for the man. “Okay, yes! Absolutely!”

Christmas is celebrated in their apartment in Rome. The band is there, her sister flies out and his family comes too. It is a day filled with love and laughter. They eat a grand lunch that they spent the previous day cooking, his mom brings a homemade panettone. They exchange gifts in the evening, and it is everything she’d dreamed of.

On New Year's Eve they make a trip to the villa. They sing songs and drink expensive wine. Fireworks light up the sky brighter than the stars. They sit out on the porch and tell stories of things that seem so far away. He’s sitting beside her, hands intertwined. He tells her about all of the things he wants to do in the new year and she is mesmerized by the way he talks.

There will be a moment in time when the world stops spinning and everything goes quiet, and she thinks that if that were to happen now, it would be the perfect way to go. Surrounded by the people she now calls family and the person she loves most in the world.

Fireworks go off in the distance, someone shouts out a drunken happy new year! and as time flows from one year to the next, she realizes that this is all that will ever matter.

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nctsworld · 3 years

Text

skateboard love

✩‌ yangyang x reader | skater boy!yangyang | college au | fluff | 2.2k

SUMMARY | yangyang tries to get you to skateboard for the first time and in doing so, you’re taken back to when you first met him. // for @notnctu’s beginning collab! WARNINGS | slight injury (reader trips over a curb), one swear word, kissing RATING | teen+ TAGLIST | @infnteen

“I can’t do this,” you mutter, shaking your head in defeat.

The ocean waves clamour nearby as you stare down at the skateboard and concrete pavement beneath your sneakers in frustration.

The weight of your helmet and the wrist guards are blatant in your every movement. Sure, it’s a little embarrassing at your age, but it’d be best to rather be safe than sorry.

Thankfully, they’ve been coming in handy during the times you almost fell and slipped off of your boyfriend’s skateboard. It may have been his idea to try to learn, but you weren’t opposed to it, thinking it’d be easy.

They say things are easier said than done, and now you’re forced to admit skateboarding definitely falls under that list.

“Yes, you can,” Yangyang softly says. Beside you, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, causing you to peer into his gleaming eyes and bright smile.

Despite the recentness of your relationship, your boyfriend’s patience and encouragement feels like routine, like he’s been by your side for your entire life. His words don’t fall on deaf ears; you parrot his smile and muster a small nod, albeit glancing away shyly.

“Just think about all the times you’ve watched me skate past the library and copy what I did.”

Petulantly, you stick your tongue out. “It wasn’t that often.”

Disbelief reflects back at you in the form of an eyebrow raise.

“Really?”

“Really!”

Around mid-September, in the most modern, glass-structured library on campus, you found a studying area that was perfect for you.

Main floor, nearby the entrance doors for an easy exit when class was about to roll around. A high stool chair that was cushioned comfortably for endless hours of equal parts studying and procrastination. Plugs and desk space galore.

Above all, it was perfect because you had the picturesque view of the boy who always skated every other day around 11:50am towards his next class across the wide stoned boulevard in front of the library.

You noticed him the first few times when you initially sat upstairs. Even from afar and above, your interest was piqued over how coolly he skated past all the students. There were only so many students who biked to their next class, and even less who skateboarded.

And after you decided to sit downstairs for once to finally steal a closer glimpse of him, you were completely smitten upon capturing his handsome features.

Thus, your heart constantly raced in anticipation when 11:50am hit, as students scattered all across campus during this transition period.

With a thumb tucked in his pocket and headphones over his ears to boot, the mystery skater boy often slid past around 11:55am, making your mind wonder where his former class was and where he was going. Was he in Engineering? Arts? Business?

The latter option didn’t seem likely since his style didn’t echo the stereotypical look of the faculty. Dark coloured hoodies and sweaters, bomber jackets, and skinny jeans were his usual choice of fashion, alongside the occasional baseball cap. And on the days he wore his cap backwards, he was truly in his skater element.

No matter, you always swooned with your chin perched atop your fist or resting inside your palm as he passed by. The brief sighting of him easily became the highlight of your day.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t try to look for him in your classes, but to no avail. You had to live with the fact that you’d only get to know him in passing as he skated on by the library.

When the mere hoodies and sweaters were exchanged for heavier, thicker jackets and coats, he still continued to traverse across campus via his unsurprising mode of transportation. You especially admired his dedication on the days filled with rain and wind, wishing there was some way for you to ease his trips to his next class.

All throughout the couple of months, he was consistent in attending that one class.

Except one day.

It was a Friday, about a week or two near finals season. The weather was quite chilly now, but snow wouldn’t be an issue until after winter break and well into the next semester, so there wasn’t any reason for him to not use his skateboard still.

Maybe he was sick at home, you thought. Pouting, you tried not to dwell over the stranger because that’s all what he was.

Someone you didn’t know, someone you only watched from afar. Someone that filled your daydreams, pondering what he’d be like and what’d you two could talk about... but nevertheless a stranger.

Oddly enough, about an hour past noon, someone dragged you out of your thoughts momentarily as they unusually sat nearby your spot.

The unspoken library etiquette was to sit as far away from others for more personal space, especially in the area where you frequented. You tried your best to ignore the shuffling of the person placing their laptop and books onto the elongated wall-length table, feigning laser-focus on your notes.

But a few moments later, you heard a whisper coming from their direction.

“Is this your favourite spot in the library?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dragging your headphones down to your shoulders as you swivelled towards the seated stranger. Air seized in your lungs and your eyebrows shot up.

The gorgeous skater boy glowed with rosy cheeks from the cold air outside, paired with his stunning smile. You realized this was the first time you’ve ever seen him smile—preciously, by the way, with his teeth on full display—and your heart stirred like crazy.

A beat stretched out. Your jaw hung in shock and you blinked blankly. Guess you solved the mystery as to where he was today.

He beamed more intensely at your awe struck and continued to whisper, “I always see you sitting here when I get to my next class.”

“Uhm,” your jaw snapped up, prior to your dry gulp. “What?”

“Yeah,” his deep chuckling tickled your ear. God, of course a smooth voice matched a face like that. “you stare out the window so cutely whenever I pass by the library.”

A record scratched, then you rewound the moment in your head. Not only did he knew you existed but...

Did he just called you cute?

Catching on with awareness over his own words, the skater boy pouted to one side. His cheek jutted out adorably and red seemed to crawl over them, progressing over to the tips of his ears too.

Light giggling from both parties filled the space, with you tucking your hair behind your ear and him tugging on the ends of his sweater paws.

“So, are you skipping class?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

“Yeah,” he replied, gesturing towards his busy study set-up ahead of him. It was a similar scene to yours—notes layered and layered upon each other, a laptop which displayed more notes, and a few textbooks were open too. “When you need to skip a class to study for another class...”

You nodded sympathetically, pointing a finger to your organized mess to imply the same. “Finals season.”

He nodded as well in unity and you two exchanged another round of smiles.

“I’m Yangyang.”

With that, introductions were made and bits of information were shared. Your hunch was right—he was in Engineering, but he also had some elective labs that were being held in the Science side of campus. Made sense why he had to navigate across campus from one end to the other.

Before the conversation began to get carried away, he issued a small apology. “Sorry, I really shouldn’t be interrupting your studying. I’ll leave you be.”

Admittedly, it caught you off guard. You wanted to pipe up about how he wasn’t interrupting, that you wanted to dive into getting to know him more. You’ve seen him practically almost every day for the last couple of months and you didn’t want to let this chance slip through your fingers.

Yet, at the same time, you begrudgingly knew he was right. You had to study for your upcoming in-class final, so you held your thoughts back and unwillingly turned back to your responsibility at hand.

It was difficult to study with skater boy being in the same vicinity as you—practically an arm’s length away from you—but you eventually tampered down your jitters and honed your attention.

Hours passed. Neither of you really shifted much besides the casual stretching or the much needed break to the bathroom.

Darkness loomed in the winter sky and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him writing, which he hadn’t done during the time he’d been there.

And then, after an ear-piercing slow rip of paper that echoed in the library, he slid that piece of paper in your direction with one simple question that ignited the spark for the beginning of you and him—

I know we just met, but do you want to go out sometime?

“’Cause if I recall...” Yangyang continues, breaking you away from your bout of reminiscing. He absentmindedly tucks away some loose strands of hair sticking out of your helmet. “You watched me at least since the beginning of last semester—”

“Nu-uh,” you cut in, lying in a childish tone.

“Yuh-huh,” he rebuttals.

Under the warm afternoon sunlight, you two begin to have a staring contest, squinting and playfully seething at one another. When your boyfriend squints harder with a ruffle of his nose, you follow suit. Eventually, you give in with a sigh.

“Okay, fine. Even if I did watch you a lot, it doesn’t mean I can just absorb your skateboarding skills through memory.”

Cockiness fades over his joking exterior as he flashes you a shit-eating grin. “It’s cause you were too busy focusing on my handsome face.”

Becoming second nature for you by now as he’s often like this, you roll your eyes and lightly punch him in the arm, but... he isn’t wrong.

And from your lack of an articulate response, Yangyang knows he’s right.

Sparing you from injuring your pride further, he swings the conversation back to what you were doing here in the first place.

A hand of his steadies you by the bottom of your back. “Balancing feels weird, I know, but you’ll get the hang of it. Let’s try again.”

Releasing a lengthy exhale, your head bounces fervently in hopes that false confidence and your boyfriend’s support can morph into a successful skateboard run.

The careful push he gives you is ample enough to have you ride down the street by yourself. Your body wavers side by side and you fear that you’ll teeter to a stop like all the other times, but somehow, your foot swipes across the pavement, carrying you further down the street.

It’s not fast by any means, but as you persistently execute it, you gain traction and see yourself finally riding without any issues.

“Yangyang, I got it. I got it!” you shriek as you quickly glance back towards him.

He radiates in response and gets lost in you, equally proud that you finally found your balance and basking in how stunning you look as you coast down the beach side street.

However, his trance breaks when he sees you’re about to hit the edge of a street curb.

“Babe, watch ou—”

The scene happens fast. You’re suddenly laying on a patchy part of the grass, with the skateboard by your feet. Yangyang bolts to you, hunching down as he daintily tugs you to sit upward.

“You okay?” he pants nervously.

At first, you nod without a thought since the helmet and wrist guards have saved you from any potential major injuries.

However, your boyfriend’s eyes widen when out of nowhere, you draw in air between clenched teeth. Your butt feels as if it’s on fire, since it was actually the body part that mostly broke your fall.

He suggests to sit here for a while to let the pain dissipate, reassuring you’ll be fine from his own past experiences.

As you rest awkwardly beside him on the grass, placing weight on your hip rather than your rear end, he aids you in ridding of your safety gear. Once they’re off, he kisses your hand tenderly.

“Maybe we should leave the skateboarding to me, for now,” he mumbles softly into your skin, leaving another kiss upon your hand.

You mope in agreement. “Maybe so...”

Caressed in his arms, you link eyes with him. Your eyes flutter to a close while he delicately eases you into him by the back of your neck.

The intense pressing of his lips against yours feels heavenly, almost entirely sedating your mild pain. He kisses you deeper, disregarding everyone and everything in proximity. You reciprocate it all back eagerly, cupping his cheek and gripping onto his strong frame as you do so.

Peeling away breathlessly, you tip your forehead against his. “Should we go back to the library and have me watch you longingly from our old spot?”

Yangyang hurriedly shakes his head.

“Nope. Never again,” he replies, his thumb stroking your cheek. “If you’re watching me skateboard, you’ll be doing it by my side from now on, beautiful.”

A chuckle trickles from you. You’re about to retort back, but your one and only skater boy diverts your train of thought, dragging you in for another long, blissful kiss.

#yangyang x reader #yangyang fluff #yangyang fanfic #yangyang imagines #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct fanfic #wayv fluff #wayv imagines #wayv fanfic #yn brainrot #beginningscollab

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