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vxlkyrieee · 4 years

Text

first blood

Endgame!Steve Rogers x Nurse!reader

Word count: 3352

*set during the latter part of endgame (some mentions of infinity war)*

Who would have ever thought that Captain America would need saving?

He appeared the picture of flawlessness. With a tall muscular build, pretty white teeth and a daunting stare, it was so easy to categorise Captain America as completely perfect and invulnerable.

Surely, living with a reputation like that would be exhausting. As someone that was expected to do no wrong all of the time, Steve was constantly on edge. He only ever disregarded his prestige if his moral compass took the unconventional route; he'd done that so many times, especially for Bucky. It usually cost him more than he would've liked.

But he's in too deep this time, and he can't pay for his salvation. Only you could do that for him. And it would cost you all your innocence.

You were never supposed to be a part of this shit. Steve mentally cursed himself, and he may or may not have mumbled a "fuck" when he first realised Thanos was attacking the compound, because you were still here with them. Why didn't you just go home when Steve insisted you'd worked enough hours?

You were his best girl, sweet and oh so gentle. Of course, you always held your own with more than enough handfuls of grit, but Steve believed you would never hurt a damn fly, and now you're all caught up in his mess.

The rubble seemed to deliquesce around your limbs as you try to recover from Thanos' artillery attack. Bruce, Rocket and Rhody, who were stuck with you, point out the arrival of water. It cascades down, sloshing into the confined space, and you couldn't help but start to sob. With every movement, the wreckage would attempt to submerge your body, leaving you struggling to keep your head above the surface. Rhody held your hand with cold, armoured fingers and Rocket clung to your arm for dear life. Here you were, just a mere woman among heroes.

Yet, that didn't matter right now.

Because Rocket was crying with you, The Hulk was struggling to hold up remnants of thick concrete, and War Machine couldn't move right without a full functioning suit. Just as the last flicker of hope was dimming, Ant-man squeezed his tiny body through the splits of rock and rubble, and added more sparks to your optimism. Still panting, Scott gives the three of you a hand and pulls you out.

"C'mon, guys! I'm pretty sure the whole band's back together now."

Making your way out into the open, you watch as the two adversarial sides yell their battle cries, and merge into a disorderly fight. A war, if you will. Leading the chaos was Steve, who now had everything to lose. The love of your life was throwing himself at a fucking Titan and his army, and all you were doing was spectating.

What the hell were you supposed to do? Wait on the sidelines until someone screamed "medic"?

It was as if that thought had climbed out from your skull and materialised before your eyes, when Steve took a particularly heavy blow. His shield was cracked, and if the vibranium was so easily broken, then what of Steve's bones?

As soon as he staggered to the ground, the cracks and fissures in your confidence began to make themselves known. Slowly, they paved paths along your heart, because what if Steve doesn't make it? What if he can't get back up? What if he's already dying?

Your sight becomes tunnel-visioned and you run towards Steve: the light at the end of the tunnel, as both earth and sky become one ash-ridden thing.

He saw your figure amongst the other Avengers, and they all fought tooth-and-nail around you, making sure you made it to Steve without an extra scratch.

"No! No, you've gotta get outta here now, Darlin'! Go!"

You hadn't moved from his side, and this was the only moment Steve ever wished you weren't so stubborn.

You stare at him, his face mottled with blood and freckles. At this point, Steve had trouble blinking without dirt invading his eyes. Instead of obeying his demand, or answering him, you ignore him completely. There were still many other Chitauri, that much you were sure of.

What you weren't sure of, was if Steve could make it to the end of this fight alive with the injuries he had, even when he could wield Mjolnir. His forearm had been torn open, the muscles just hanging onto their ligaments and bone. Steve being Steve, merely tightened the strap of his shield around the forearm, hoping that that would keep it in place. Another deep wound was opened on his thigh, blood soaking through the thick fabric of his uniform, forming a dark stain. He could feel the pain, like electric shocks, tingle down from his leg to his feet.

The same feet that you had once taught to dance.

The last five years haven't been easy. The first year was especially bad. There were days where you and Steve didn't get out of bed, hoping that your heads would stop spinning if you buried them under pillows for long enough.

This would count two times where Steve survived, and his best friend didn't. What made him so worthy of living?

Everyone would all tell him, the thoughts will pass. It's all in your head. But that was the problem. His head was so full with what he could've done, weighted and heavy like a dumpling, bursting and pounding with tears that never seemed to stop.

Steve could be all cloak-and-dagger sometimes. He was a marvellous arrangement of welded armour plates and kevlar, hiding behind a facade. But if you said the right words, touched him gingerly, held his gaze long enough, he'd dismantle and out would escape his affliction. Defences would crumble as he'd break down in your arms, and you in his. Castles and kingdoms collapsing together.

Even on the good days, Steve's blood flowed differently in his veins. His limbs were almost always exhausted, tired of waiting for some sort of breakthrough, holding on white-knuckled to a weakening hope that threatened to dissipate out of existence. Just like his friends.

But on the good days, the flurry of guilt and dust and Bucky and Sam, would shrink a little, even if by the tiniest fraction, to make enough room for something new. Those days meant slow dancing barefoot in the compound, cable-knit sweaters, ice cream flavoured kisses, filtered sun rays through windows, and tender bear hugs.

Those were the days where you had managed to get Steve's smile to reach his eyes: piercing blue, watery with laughter and flecked with tiny mellow greens. Eyes that glued themselves to your feet as he held your frame, swaying to the beat of soft jazz in the background.

On those days, he'd say "good morning." He'd have one hand in his pocket, and the other one wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. His eyes adorned with dark circles, almost a purple tinge to the skin, but smiley nonetheless.

On those days, he'd buy you a double-scoop cone when you passed an ice cream truck in Central Park, even when it was so cold, your breath would become mist in the air. He'd even try leading the dances you'd have in the afternoon sun, waltzing a little faster so you'd follow in kind, giggling as you did so.

And he'd stumble sometimes, but never once did he give up.

It reminded you of the Avengers' early days, when Steve had planned on courting you. When you were still somewhat an unfamiliar face, only appearing sometimes by Dr. Cho's side. But Steve had his eye on you. Determined to confidently allure you, despite how many times he stumbled over his words in your presence. Instead, he had slipped, fallen really, into a romance he couldn't ever recover from. It was like having his feet swept from under him in a panicked rush, only to land face first into your welcoming arms. It was scary, but he loved it.

And the closer you got to Steve, the closer you got to the rest of the Avengers. Even after the snap. You tried to distance yourself from them at first, as to maintain a professional relationship, but they had a pretty strong magnetic field. Especially the girls. It was like gradually being pulled by gravity into the orbit of a planet you hadn't known existed. It was only then you realised that the Avengers were people too. Human. Well, most of them anyway.

You'd found sisters in Natasha and Wanda who were lost much too soon, and unexpectedly strong bonds with both Nebula and Rocket. There were times before all of this time travel, that you and Nat missed Wanda so much, you cooked all her favourite Sokovian dishes together, from chicken Paprikash, to stuffed Sarmale. It was in her honour you supposed. May as well mourn with good food, right?

On one particular day, you'd made Smazeny Syr, and Nat absolutely insisted the two of you eat it in the unconventional way Wanda loved: with blueberry jam. The smell of frying cheese had lured Rocket and Nebula into the kitchen and you took both their hands, hurriedly dragging them towards the stove.

"It's fried cheese. But, you guys have to try it how Wanda used to eat it. Otherwise you get none," you said with a giggle. Nat cut a piece, stabbing it with a fork before adding a generous dollop of jam.

"Ugh, no thanks I'm out," Rocket sneered.

"Your loss."

Natasha lifted the fork, and Nebula accepted it, albeit with a grimace painted on her face. As she chewed, her expression gradually changed from disgust, to surprise, and finally, delight. She nods her head, humming as she swallows.

"See."

Rocket waved off Nat's 'I-told-you-so's, shaking his head in a disapproving manner.

"Some freakshow you guys are."

You gave him a pointed look, raising an eyebrow and crossing your arms for emphasis. His demeanour faltered under your stare a bit, and he clumsily tried to save himself by favouring you. "'Cept you, (y/n). I kinda like how ya scratch behind my ears."

The room erupted into laughter and muffled complaints from Rocket. "Okay, that's enough outta you, racoon," Nat smiled smugly.

That signature Black Widow smirk. The one that either meant she was amused, or she was gonna kick your ass. You miss that smirk. And your memories of her were smothered with it, mocking you, the memories themselves unraveling into demons of sorrow.

Because now your heart has been broken once again. Your sisters are gone and they'd left you behind. And you will mourn of course, go through the motions of unbearable pain, until eventually it becomes tolerable enough to go back to routine.

But Steve was different. Steve was riddled with more guilt than was possible to endure. And now he could bleed out right in front of you if you didn't do something. But amongst a cold-blooded war, you'd have to avoid being killed too.

You had no weapon on you, and Nebula appeared to be the only one who noticed. So she tossed you a dagger, one that was idly sheathed on her leg anyway. A Chitauri warrior ran straight for you, and Steve was already rendered helpless laying in the dirt. You did the first thing that came to mind. You plunged the dagger right into the warrior's abdomen with a grunt, then ripped it back out, effectively killing the alien without leaving Steve's side.

Steve wished he could have done something. He wished you didn't have to do that. Because although the Chitauri wasn't human, you had just taken the life of a living being, in order to save his. You killed for him, with no reluctance whatsoever.

That was an action that would never be reversed. It was an action that came along with a side dish of guilt that would always make a home in the depths of a person's mind. Steve knew this all too well, coming back from a world war, and having to experience killing other opponents on many occasions. But that was something he wanted to isolate you from. He was the soldier, and you were the nurse. That's how it was always meant to stay, so he could suffer the mental trauma for you. So you'd stay safe from the horrors of having blood on one's hands.

Unlike your usual nature, you end up killing many more Chitauri while trying to clean the site of Steve's wounds.

All you could see was red. The anger and anxiety was so potent, it pressed heavily on your chest, rendering a physical ache in your ribs. Thanos had ruined a lot of things for you. And right now you'd kill as many of his sons of bitches that would dare come near you and the love of your life.

As you apply pressure on Steve's leg, a wave of 5 years worth of longing crashes into you with the force of a meteor shower, when scarlet coloured sorcery crosses your vision. Soon you're up, leaping, flying into Wanda Maximoff's arms. A bone crushing hug steadies the way you tremble against her, and before you know it, her hair is wet with your tears. Of course, time had passed differently for Wanda, but her eyes were apologetic as she caressed your cheek for a second, and you knew she understood how much her absence hurt you.

"C'mon, Princezna. I'll help you with Steve."

Wanda assists you in her progress, stitching Steve's wounds quickly and messily with magic and thread.

Steve notices how his head feels detached to his own body, all his thoughts flooding and melding into one giant entanglement, making it impossible to take a proper look at who was tending to his injuries. Shit, he couldn't even lift his head, weighted by the beginnings of dizziness.

"Is that you, (y/n)?"

"It's me, Baby, it's me. I'm gonna fix you." Fix him. Haven't you already tried countless times? You had thought you could smooth over his creases with love and affection, with time and effort. That was before you realised, no one can fix anyone.

However, Steve knew your efforts weren't wasted. You could never fix him or make him forget about the damage done to him over time. But you always helped him adapt. You helped him carry his burdens. You'd given him space and time to open up his baggage, then even unpacked some of it with him. You had done so much more than fix him.

You made him a new person. Different, sure. But still yours.

Once you had Steve in a stable condition, your adrenaline begins to wear off, and all the noise that previously pierced through the air, had suddenly dissipated. You weren't sure how the battle ended, but

you begin to realise exactly what you had done.

It felt good. As much as you hated to admit it, the bite of sharpened metal into wicked alien flesh was exactly what you needed. Or maybe you needed a minute away from everything. Weren't you supposed to feel apologetic? You were a nurse, for goodness' sake. Your purpose was the exact opposite of what you'd just done. Regardless, you knew Steve would be right there to comfort and console you if need be.

But right now, he needed you.

Bucky makes an appearance amongst the other avengers, and he comes forward, taking Wanda's place beside you. He helps Steve lay down on a stretcher, and into a helicopter sent by who knows who. All you know is, it isn't Thanos, and that's enough consolation for you.

Steve slips from consciousness while in the air, and you catch up with Bucky. He tells you you look different. You tell him you like his hair half-up, half-down.

You all end up inside the home of Tony and Pepper, and it becomes a sort of refuge. A place where everyone can wind down after the chaos and just be. Bucky carries Steve into one of the spare bedrooms, and you properly attend to his wounds. You start by unclipping and disregarding his helmet, before passing your fingers through his flattened hair. Bucky takes it from you, putting it by the window sill.

The bottom half of his face was painted with ash, which despite his predicament, makes you bite your lip to keep from giggling. He smirks at you, and you smile back warmly, wiping his face with a washcloth and a bucket of warm water, careful not to disturb his blooming bruises. You examine them softly. Your fingertips tickle against Steve's chin, but he doesn't complain. You hand him the bucket and he spits in it, ridding most of the blood in his mouth.

Whilst the bucket became more and more clouded with the backwash of the battle, Steve looked more and more like himself. You were so tangled up in Steve, you almost forgot Bucky was there until you hear the sound of his voice. His tone seemed to be sweetened by the sight of how his two friends have grown so much closer than when he left them.

"I'll give you lovebirds some space."

Before he turns to leave, (and supposedly find Sam) Steve clasps his hand on Bucky's arm. "It's good to have you back, Buck. We missed you."

Bucky gives you both a warm grin, nods, then leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

You take off Steve's uniform with languid movements, and he releases a sigh of relief. He was still sore, and unbelievably lethargic, but being this close to you made his brain all fuzzy, blocking out physical pain, to just feel you. He leans forward, resting the weight of his bare shoulder on you as he kisses you softly. The kiss was full of a strong ardour that seeped right into your bones, yet fragile enough, so that both your insecurities shone through. You'd have to rebuild much of yourselves later on, especially after today. Brick by broken brick, you'll both assemble your castles again. But for now, the kiss was enough to put a band-aid over everything.

"Love you, darlin'"

His voice spirals down your ear canals like melted chocolate, almost making you forget your own name. It made you drunk and alert at the same time, a familiar buzz running through your body. And when you smiled down at him, as sweet and soft as whipped cream, you didn't have to return the phrase. He knew. Steve had always been sentimental in that way, even when he wasn't there beside you. Like the months he spent AWOL as a fugitive after the whole Winter Soldier incident in Washington. He'd send you cuttings of your favourite flowers in an envelope, every now and then. No address, no name, no sender, but you knew it was him. You knew they meant 'I love you, be safe, I'll be back when I sort everything out.'

You pull away slowly from his lips, giggling, eliciting Steve to chuckle too. Such a sound was too rare nowadays, and you savoured it, locking the sound in your head to replay over and over later on.

"Okay, Cap. No more distractions, I gotta get you all clean and patched up."

"Only if you kiss me like a war just ended," he bargains.

"Alright, baby. But no frisky business. I'm exhausted."

Steve winks, adding a flirty little salute on the end "Yes, ma'am."

You'd left the curtain half open, hanging the fabric over the top of the window frame like a limp puppy ear. That way, the sunlight came through the window pane in mellow slices, coating your skin in a warm blanket of light while you indulge in Steve's kisses again.

He tasted like salt and cinders, but among that, after five long years, he finally tasted like Steve again. He was starting to heal. And it had cost him the mantle of Captain America, but planning to place it in Sam's care, it was a price he was willing to pay.

Taglist:

@asgardiangurll @avengingnatasha @whyamihere-bro

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader #endgame fix it #don't know if this is even considered an endgame fix it fic but i'm gonna call it that #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #captain america #captain america x reader #steve rogers x nurse reader #avengers #avengers: infinity war #avengers: endgame #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst

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eastbluenative · 5 years

Text

Unexpected~~~~~

“Shit, shit, shit, shit.” You muttered while scrambling to grab a change of clothes as well as your shower caddy before running down to the “guys’ showers”. All the girls had just showered on their side so the hot water would surely be gone. And if there was one thing you absolutely could not deal with it was a cold shower. Lucky for you, the boys were all outside doing something together so you had their showers all to yourself. Once in the bathroom you rushed to take off your uncomfortable and sweaty clothes, and take a much needed shower.

The quiet of the bathroom was boring, peaceful as it was a stark contrast to the chaos you dealt with on the daily, but boring. You were in such a hurry that you forgot to play music from your phone before you got in. To fill the silence you decided to sing a song that had been stuck in your head all day. You certainly didn’t have the best voice but you could sing decently in some ranges. And no one would hear you anyway so you might as well.

“You just thought, I just wanted to be friends

You just thought, I just wanted to be friends,” the lyrics made you think of a specific ash blonde haired boy. When you closed your eyes you saw his face, his fierce red eyes, his perfect lips.... You opened your eyes and made a confused face in response to that random thought. It was something you never thought about before. The two of you were quite close, he let you talk to him when he wanted to blow everyone’s heads off. You let him scream and rage while he beat the shit out of punching bags with his bare hands when he was supposed to be training you. But that’s what friends were for right?

“And I never said it out loud

I'd end up looking like a fool”

There were rarely ever moments when you thought maybe there was something more to your relationship. There was no denying you both found each other attractive, but you wouldn’t dare act on it. You two were just friends. He let you sleep in his room sometimes when you had stayed late to study with him. You usually just slept on the floor, too tired to move.

Katsuki sat in his desk chair, remembered the upcoming test and thought She hasn’t slept over in a few weeks... All of a sudden he felt himself missing you. But for what? He had just seen you a few hours ago. It would be stupid to want her around again when he just got some peace and quiet. And he didn’t have the time to be distracted by you anyway. Did he? Katsuki contemplated going to bother you as he trudged down the stairs in search of something to do. He would rather not be around his idiotic class mates. All except one. He wondered where you were, what you were doing, how you looked. Stupid hormones. He wondered why he always wanted to be with you. It annoyed him to no end. Since when did he want people around? When he reached the first floor of the dorms, by the guys’ showers, he heard someone singing. Who the fuck is singing like a girl?

“Am I the only one afraid to make a move

Maybe you're feeling what I'm feeling too”

That voice, that damn voice sounds like...

Before he barged into the bathroom he paused, listening to you sing. It sounded like maybe you were thinking about the same things he was. Just maybe. The words you sang overwhelmed him and he felt his heart beating faster, harder. He was getting mad at himself for feeling so, so... he didn’t know. Am I nervous? Why the fuck would I be nervous?

“And I know it don't make no sense

But I'm getting used to this

And I'm older now, but I'm still young

And I got many, oh many years to come”

Katsuki didn’t understand what you were singing now, he could hear you but couldn’t figure out why you were singing those words. He heard you shut the water off, but didn’t move from his spot outside the door. For some reason his body didn’t want to move, like it was waiting to do something.

You squeezed the water out of your hair and stepped out to wrap a towel around yourself. After getting majority of the water off you draped the towel over the hook and turned to your clothes. Oh no... You must have dropped your shorts or simply forgot them while rushing to come down here. You had to work with comfy underwear and a large T-shirt and pray that none of the guys would be coming back. While walking through the bathroom to exit you repeated one line of the song.

“You just thought I just wanted to be friends

You just thought I just wanted to be friends

You just thought I just wanted to— FUCK KATSUKI”

Before you was the exact man you were thinking about as you sang. You nearly ran into him making your face burn a bright pink. His presence either meant that all the guys were back or he stayed behind - not surprising. What was surprising is the feeling you got deep in your stomach. It was a mix of butterflies and warmth and a tingling. There was something in the air between the two of you, like something that happened when you shared a heartfelt laugh and locked eyes or when you got too close.

“You wanna fuck me? You could at least buy me dinner first, pervert.” On the outside Katsuki appeared to be amused and confident as he took two steps back to lean on the wall opposite you with his hands stuffed in his pockets like usual. On the inside it was a completely different story. He was trying his best to keep his eyes from wandering on your body. He was trying to not get close to you in fear of what his stupid hormones would make him do. He was simply trying to act like seeing you in just a large T-shirt with your hair damp, face glowing did not turn him on.

As you stood there in just a T-shirt and underwear you suddenly became quite aware of the fact that you were both feeling the same thing. You felt a different wetness gather in your panties when you watched Katsuki shift his hands in his pockets, hiding something. You couldn’t believe what was happening. You couldn’t believe you made him feel this way. Your eyes scanned his face looking for anything that would let you know what he was thinking. He was doing the same to you, but he wasn’t sure if he could let you think that.

So he scoffed to disguise how he felt and muttered, “Pervert. What were you doing in our showers anyway?”

“Did you hear me singing?” You blurted the question out as you were thinking it. Katsuki had only heard you sing when there was music to accompany it so your voice was muffled.

The muscular blonde raised an eyebrow as if the answer was obvious. “Yeah you were so fuckin loud I’m sure Deku could hear you over his own mumbling and he’s not even here.” Slightly embarrassed, your gaze averted to the floor, but you were pleased to not hear him insult your singing. Katsuki quickly let his eyes focus between your legs and the hem of your shirt when you weren’t looking. The fists in his pockets shifted again.

When you looked back up at him he was focused on the front entrance, wondering when everyone would come back. As he was looking you slowly moved towards him, needing to close the space between you two. He seemed even more appealing than usual today. His black t shirt was hugging his arms perfectly, his sweatpants always looked good but today they looked great. His hair was perfectly scattered about, like always. His jaw and cheekbones caught your eye.

“So why don’t you have any damn pants on anyway? Do you want-” He paused and stiffened when he turned his head back to you, seeing that you were now half a foot away from him. You stood up straighter, tilted your head to the side and blinked a few times before you innocently said, “Forgot them.” You weren’t sure what was coming over you, why you suddenly had this desire for Katsuki.

In an instant he was holding your face with his hands, fingertips touching your damp hair, his forehead pressed against yours. The sudden touch made you drop your shower caddy. It also made your breath hitch and your heart race. His eyes fell to your lips and he cursed himself for letting this happen. He still didn’t understand. You kissed him hard and he kissed back harder. Your hands felt up his body from his hips to his waist to his chest. This feeling alone made him even harder. You stood on your toes between his feet and hummed when his tongue ran across your lip. Before you could do the same to him he briefly pulled away to look at your face. Your usually bright eyes were now dark, shadowed by his face blocking the light above but also by lust. His eyes too appeared darker than normal.

The small space now between you allowed you to sneak your arms up and loop them around his neck. You felt your shirt rise up as you did so and Katsuki noticed the newly exposed skin. In a swift movement your legs were picked up and wrapped around his torso. Your ass now fully out but covered by your comfortable panties. He held you under your thighs, daringly close to your butt. This time he kissed you just as aggressively as before and you responded with the same intensity. Again, his tongue licked your lip but you were stopped by the commotion of your class mates coming from the front doors.

“Fuck!” You exclaimed before jumping off of him to grab your shower caddy. “Just fuckin leave it.” He stopped you by grabbing your wrist and pulling you along to run after him and up stairs. You shook your arm free of his grip and hopped in front of him to lead him to your room because it was closer than his. From this angle he could watch your ass as you ran up the stairs and the sight made him grin. There must have been something in the damn air to make all of his emotions spiral today.

Once in your room you shut the door behind you and locked it without thinking before exhaling. You couldn’t stop yourself from giggling at the situation. You and Katsuki making out then running away from your classmates who surely did not even know you were there.

“What’s so fucking funny?” Katsuki sounded more curious than irritated, he even had a playful look in his eyes. You caught it before he hid his face by turning towards your desk. He pulled the chair out to face you and sat on it.

“Oh you know,” you mused while sauntering towards him. You decided to be bold, “just the fact that I gave you a boner.” The smile on your face to stifle your laughter didn’t make Katsuki’s feelings for you any easier to ignore. Your statement also made his boner more annoying, compromising his “I don’t care” facade. Fuck it. He pulled you down to sit on his lap before you walked past him. A gasp fell from your lips due to the rushed movement. You nearly moaned as you felt his boner prodding your ass. His left arm supported your back while his right hand slid up your leg.

His eyes glowed as they stuck to yours and you couldn’t look away. He growled in your ear, “Wanna know what I think is funny?” You pursed your lips as if about to speak, but you couldn’t answer him, you couldn’t form words. He intimidated you yet you weren’t fearful because you knew him quite well. The glow in his eyes was different than his usual and you just couldn’t read them.

He leaned close to your ear, his lips brushing it as he whispered, “How wet you are right now.” His finger tips hurried under the hem of your shirt and pressed into your soft panties covering your folds. Meanwhile the hand that was on your back had traveled to your chin so he could turn your head to face him. His voice was low, confident, and sexy as he said, “Because of me.”

You let out a soft moan in response. He hushed you by placing his lips on yours, much softer than previously and softer than the pressure his fingers had on your pussy. You felt a throbbing between your hips, a longing for whatever Katsuki had planned for you. The pressure caused you to squirm in his lap, right on his erection. His fingers moved upward slightly, petting your clit at a tantalizing pace. The feeling he gave you made your legs open wider, asking for more. Your kissing steadily got more intense with added tongue and lip biting. Both of you were breathing heavier and moving against each other to find friction. You let your hands travel from his hair to his neck to his strong shoulders, chest, and waist. The lower your hands got the angrier he became. When he had enough he abruptly picked you up and laid you on your bed before pulling off his shirt and climbing on top of you.

Your eyes traveled down his sculpted body, enjoying every inch. But your favorite part about him was his eyes because of the power they possessed. The intensity in his eyes could make anyone think lasers would shoot out of them. Normal people feared him when he looked at them. You felt time stop when you looked that his eyes.

“Katsuki I really like you. I needed to tell you before things got any further so you’d believe me.” Your blunt statement had shocked you but not as much as Katsuki.

He scoffed, getting off of you and sitting beside you with his back against the wall. “Damn you really know how to make shit awkward for me don’t you, dumbass?!” He looked down at his hands, face covered by his blonde hair. You couldn’t see how nervous he was.

“Sorry.” You blushed and rolled onto your side, propping up your head with your hand. “It’s just the way I do things.” You suddenly felt like you misread his actions. Maybe he didn’t feel the same after all.

But he was focused on the curve of your hip that became more apparent in this position, and Katsuki’s hand found its way on top of it. His fingers slowly moved back and forth on your skin. He thought about what to say. In fear of your feelings being one sided you immediately sat up, pulled your legs in and created distance from him. Why do something sexual with him if he didn’t care about you in that way? No matter how badly you wanted to...

“What’s your problem?” He asked once he lost contact with your skin. The frown on his face was not his usual one. “You were fine 2 seconds ago.” He spat, frustrated with your strange actions. He was hiding something behind his hostility, burying his feelings even though you had just admitted yours. When you didn’t answer he scooted closer to you and laid a hand on your knee. The touch made your core tingle, but you ignored it. You turned away from him and swung your legs to hang over the side of the bed.

You weren’t good with confrontation unless you were very angry. But you had already gotten this far and there must be a reason for that. Just do it, come on. He’s gotta feel the same way. You turned back around and got so close that your knees were touching. The only words you could manage to get out were, “Tell me.” Your hands were clammy in your lap as you awaited his response, but for a few seconds he wouldn’t break his stare. His expression had softened just a bit, but he simply stared at you. You repeated your self and he finally blinked.

“I love you too,” he mumbled before placing a passionate kiss on your mouth. You hadn’t said the word love but there was no way of stopping his kiss to question him about it. This time felt much different than before, much more meaningful. The way his hands found their place on your waist and yours grasped his jaw felt like you had done this a million times before. You took the first move and began to kiss, lick, and bite his neck. His hands slid down to your hips where he gripped them and pulled you chest to chest. Now you were straddling him and making him groan despite how hard he bit the inside of his cheek. Your kisses made their way to his collar bones while his hands lifted your shirt from your body. When your chest was exposed Katsuki glanced down but kept his gaze on you in hopes of making you more comfortable. That didn’t stop his hands from cupping and squeezing your breasts like he had felt them a million times, like he knew what to do to you.

Your moans and profanity let him know he was doing the right thing and it made his insides burn. He wanted to hear more of your moaning and feel more of you. In a smooth motion you were under him again, feeling more exposed than before. When he saw you like this he froze.

You giggled, “Quit staring pervert.” He couldn’t look away until he felt your hands toying with the waist band of his sweatpants. A devilish smile appeared on his face and he pressed his hips into yours. The movement brought his face closer to yours yet again, but you were sick of just kissing him, you needed more. Katsuki seemed to have the same idea as he skipped over your lips and made his way down your torso with wet kisses. His fingers pulled your panties down and off your legs before his mouth reached the sensitive area. Your back began to arch once his lips pressed against the inside of your thigh. After that he wasted no time.

“Katsuki oh...” You whined when you felt his tongue slowly flick over your clit. His pace quickened the more you moaned and when you let go of the sheets, grabbing his hair instead, he began to suck on the sensitive bud. The feeling was so intense you couldn’t stop yourself from squirming under his touch, even his strong grip on your hips couldn’t stop you. It wasn’t until he slid a finger into you that you let out a high pitch moan and settled down. The sensation didn’t get any easier instead it allowed you to move in rhythm with his finger pumping in and out of you.

Meanwhile Katsuki couldn’t keep his eyes off your face. You head was stretched to the side, your cheek pressed against your shoulder as you fought to keep your eyes open and moaning to a minimum. You felt every movement of Katsuki’s fingers inside of you, the feeling multiplied as he added a second finger. He pulled his mouth away and focused on pumping his fingers.

“Look at me,” Katsuki commanded in a deep voice. You couldn’t stop your back from arching in response to his fingers hitting your G spot. When you didn’t look at him he suddenly pulled his fingers out and pulled you by your legs causing you to whine. You were too busy trying to catch your breath to notice that he was pulling off his sweatpants and boxers. His left hand gripped your hip and his right pumped his hard length. He was ready to pound you hard enough to make you scream, but for some reason he paused. His eyes flickered between your face and his hands, his gaze staying on his hands. When you noticed he wasn’t doing anything you propped your self up on your elbows.

“Katsuki.” You whispered, unsure of what he was thinking. “Hey, look at me.” His confused and slightly frustrated eyes met your softer, glossy ones. Immediately he felt comforted and relaxed his hand on your hip.

You looked down at his dick that was doing nothing in his hand. You smirked, “I’m waiting you know.” Hearing that you weren’t afraid of going further gave him the reassurance he needed. He slowly, steadily, and smoothly slid into your warm core. The pain was outweighed by your neediness and the pleasure he gave you. Your face began to relax as your body adjusted to his size. Katsuki began a rhythm and got comfortable with being inside you. He kept your legs open while he thrusted into you and your body moved in sync with his deep thrusts, but you wanted him closer.

As if he could read your mind, he dropped your legs and let his arms rest on both sides of your head. You immediately kissed him between moaning and both of your heavy breathing. Your lips lazily met his as he cursed into your mouth. A strong tightness built in your lower abdomen that you needed to let release. Katsuki felt your walls pulse around his cock, making him groan.

“Dammit, come on.” He exasperatedly demanded into your ear. “I wanna feel you fuckin cum.” His words sent you over the edge into a head spinning orgasm. Your legs shook as they tried to close, the new feeling so intense you couldn’t stop the loud shriek leaving your lips. His hand instantly closed around your mouth to keep you quiet. Katsuki’s forehead pressed into your collar bone while he desperately chased his own release. His thrusts began to lose their speed and rhythm, a sign that he was close now.

You reached up to tangle your fingers in his ash blonde hair. His cock somehow felt even better after your first orgasm the feeling of him inside you intensified. He didn’t give you a break, but you weren’t sure you needed one. You tried your best to roll the two of you over so that you could be on top of him. The new position didn’t last long because it made Katsuki angry. He hissed, “Fuck! You know what?!” Then he pushed you to the side and flipped you around so that your ass was facing him. Without warning he was inside you again, this position hitting a new spot in your core. At first you were stunned, only able to accept his dominance over you felt the same knot building in your core and your legs began to feel wobbly yet again

“Mmm. Yeah, Katsuki mmmm.” Your airy, high pitched moan sounded better than your singing to his ears. The sound of your ass slapping against him and the feeling of his hands on you like you were the only thing he had, pushed you into your next orgasm. Meanwhile Katsuki was staring at your profile, partially covered by strands of hair and pressed into the mattress. He didn’t know how you two got to this point but it happened. The how doesn’t exactly matter anyway.

His left hand laid two smacks on your ass before gripping your waist and leaning forward, releasing his load into you. He then rolled onto his back beside you while you were on your stomach lost in a daze.

You rolled onto your side to face him with a stupid grin on your face. You were lost in the post sex exhaustion, post orgasm high, and everything felt right. “I love you too, Katsuki.” He side eyed you while trying to hide his own grin by biting his lip.

“Whatever,” he muttered while reaching down for the blanket to pull over both of you. “Shut up and go to sleep.”

#katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bnha katsuki #katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #BAKUGO SMUT #katsuki smut #smut #bnha smut #bakugo imagine #katsuki imagine #Morgann writes

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kbstories · 5 years

Text

And with this third chapter, the fic is complete!

Only Lost The Night

Tags: Recovery, First Kiss, Fishing (non-graphic)

No additional spoilers apply.

>>Read on AO3

<<First Chapter

<<Second Chapter

The coffee comes out of the pot piping hot, quickly warming his mug and filling the morning air with its scent.

Arthur downs it in big gulps, wincing as it burns down his throat. The bad taste in his mouth is gone, though, and his queasy stomach settles with something to digest. The cold sweat he wakes up in every morning, or the tremor in his hands, well – recovery, as it turns out, is one tough son of a bitch, much more so when your alcohol supply is out of reach.

A sigh worms its way out his mouth, clouding white in front of him. There's precious little for him to do in camp – he can barely raise his left arm higher than chest height without pulling some wound or other – and most of the gang's inner workings come along well without his input.

This must be the longest Arthur's been off duty in... a while. It's disorienting, to say the least.

It doesn't help that, additionally to Miss Grimshaw's care – a duty she caries out with a gruff undertone in her voice but an indulgent glint in her eyes –, Charles has been watching him like a hawk, grumbling about his hard work going to waste otherwise.

Arthur would be the first to admit that drinking himself into a stupor a week into his mandatory bedrest was not his brightest moment. It definitely beat sitting on his ass all day long, doing fuck-all to earn his keep.

At this rate, he'll end up going to the dogs like Uncle. Isn't that a fun thought to entertain?

Even now he can feel the man's gaze on him, all the way across camp. Arthur raises his mug in the general direction of Charles's usual post, and plants himself on one of the logs surrounding the camp fire. See, I can be good, too.

A lazy salute is his meagre reward. Arthur shakes his head, only noticing the smile on his own face when he goes to light a cigarette. Drawing deep, he exhales slowly, finding himself enjoying the bite of nicotine on his tongue instead of merely going through the motions.

Maybe he can ask Hosea for one of them crime novels he's been so involved with lately. How was the author called again? Arthur flicks the excess ash to the ground, chasing the name on the tip of his tongue. Nope, gone. Never been his strongest suit, books, but Jack's seems interested too as of late, and with how things have been, the boy deserves some hero's tale or other to dream of.

… not one of Hosea's, then. God knows the kid sees enough blood and death as is.

Gaze lost in the fire and with nowhere else to go, Arthur's thoughts drift like smoke in the wind. To Jack, and how somewhere in this mess, he became Uncle Arthur to him. About that boy Kieran, so desperate for somewhere to belong it's painful to watch at times, and John, who had it all and disappeared who-knows-where all the same. Dutch and Hosea and that ever-shifting dream they keep chasing.

And yet his fingers itch for... something more, something to touch, to hold on to, like a pen or a gun or–

A genuine connection, to tether his very being to something bigger than himself. What if, Arthur thinks.

What if, what if.

He blows another puff into the sky and watches it disappear into nothingness.

“Okay. Hunting. Nothin' fancy, just a doe or two. Need practice with that bow, right? Takes a lifetime to master, an' all that–”

“No.”

“Oh for... One ride. To– to the general store in Rhodes, or, uh, to the tree line and back. A glimpse at the fields.”

Charles hitches his elbow on his knee, hand under his chin. “No”, he repeats, the low, serious timbre of his voice crumbling with veiled amusement. A searching gaze is leveled on Arthur, the kind to reveal every weakness hiding under his skin.

“Is that what it takes, Morgan? Two weeks in camp?”

“Ain't beggin' yet”, Arthur mumbles under his breath and throws Charles an unhappy look – Charles, who is currently sitting cross-legged on his saddle stand, confident as a king and entitled like one, too. Behind him, Dyani sniffs Charles's hair and pushes it around with her nose, rubbing his shoulder in the process.

It took Arthur weeks of constant work (and treats) to get the hang of the Andalusian's fickle temper and here they are, chummy like old friends. Traitors, the lot of them. Arthur's shoulders slump in defeat.

“Fine, have it your way.”

The statement isn't immediately followed by action, however. The mere thought of wasting more hours walking a line into the dirt, watching people come and go and feeling their sympathetic eyes on him is revolting to an almost physical degree. Arthur stares at his cot, just a few feet away, and can't bring himself to move.

“Arthur.”

Just his name, without pity. He closes his eyes and rubs his neck, staring at his boots as he struggles to find the right words.

“Just feelin' useless, is all. Can't do nothin' for weeks now an' with the O'Driscolls and whoever else breathin' down our necks... Ain't the man I am, Charles. To sit around an' wait for things to happen.”

A rustle of movement makes him glance up. Charles hops to his feet, easy as anything, and Arthur barely registers he's throwing something until he's grabbed it. A fishing rod? Arthur tilts his head with a frown.

“But you–”

“Teach me”, Charles says simply, and all Arthur can do is shut his mouth and nod, trying (and failing) to ignore how warm his chest feels.

Little by little, the smooth lines of graphite connect, fill in blank space, spill over the shadowed fold between the pages and beyond.

The gentle rocking of the boat, the rhythmic lapping of water against lacquered wood, the sting of a wound, still healing – it all fades into the background, there but muted as his attention is bracketed by the edges of his journal.

With the sun warming his back, Arthur draws.

In front of him sits Charles, leaning back just as he is, feet propped up against the boat's curved hull. Rod and line in place, his eyes are alert and search the surface of the lake for any movement, the very picture of endless patience. The breeze plays with a loose strand of his hair before he reaches up and tucks it away.

Charles fishes, and Arthur draws... him.

(Arthur's sketch of Charles by @ISpitznagel)

His shoulder doesn't allow him to sit as he usually does, legs folded close to his chest and journal balanced on his knees, angled away so nobody can see what he's working on. The members of the gang quickly learned that whoever tries is more likely to catch a fist to the jaw than a glimpse at his sketches. What is to others a collection of landscapes and animals and the odd person, to Arthur, well...

Things in his life don't have the best relationship with permanence, as it were. He'd rather commit what he can to paper before they inevitably disappear too.

Charles asks later, “What do you think of when you draw?”, when the light has grown too weak to keep going and Arthur reached for his pack of cigs to occupy his hands instead. Arthur, who drew in his lap instead of on his knees and knows that Charles saw.

He finds he doesn't mind one bit.

“Depends”, he mutters, stretching his legs out as far as the narrow boat allows, bumping against Charles's hip. “Sometimes nothin', sometimes somethin' I can't put words to just yet. Just keepin' track of things, in my own way. Makes 'em less unfathomable, if I may borrow one of them fancy terms.”

Charles snorts, “You may”, his grin there and gone in a flash. He's set aside the fishing rod – with the bucket they brought along filled to the brim with fish, there wouldn't be anywhere to put them anyways –, merely watching Arthur smoke now.

“Never was much the artistic type, myself. Looks all a bit like magic to me.”

Arthur grins back, offering him a cig of his own. Charles shrugs and takes one out of the box, leaning close to the match Arthur lights for him; his face is momentarily lit by its flaring tip, his eyes reflecting the embers' glow.

Their fingers brush and Arthur hums, exhales another smoke-filled breath into the night sky.

“Well I'd show you how, Charles, but if you take to it as quickly as fishin', what unique skills would that leave me with?”

Charles shrugs. “I can think of some”, he counters easily, another step in this dance of theirs that they slip into on nights like these. Teasing words wrapped around tender spots and soft-spoken secrets. Arthur takes the compliment for what it is, shaking his head fondly.

They smoke. Arthur tells Charles of the time he went fishing with Jack, months ago now; how hard it had been for the kid to focus on the fish, and less so on picking flowers.

“Seems the creative sort, you know? Better to let 'em make things. Kid's too young for all this crap we keep puttin' him through.”

“Does Marston know, though?” Charles sighs. “Some days it seems to me like you're more of a father to that boy than he is.”

Arthur frowns, rubs at his chest and that dull ache that, years later, is still there.

“Well, in some ways... Can't up and leave for a year an' expect things to remain the same, I guess. But John cares, or at least I think he does.” A pause. “'cause that's the thing, ain't it? Dutch taught us to give a shit 'bout family an' whatnot but, John an' I, we ain't got the same charisma he does. 's one of those things that's easier said than done.”

For a while, Charles says nothing. Just sits and smokes, looking into the distance. Turning some thought or other in his head, Arthur assumes. Eventually: “Guess you're right. Just doesn't feel good, seeing a kid on the run. Too much of that, as of late.”

“Ain't that the truth”, Arthur nods, righting himself to shake off some of the somber mood weighing on his shoulders. Smirking, he nudges Charles's knee with his own. “Just glad he stuck by that when them O'Driscolls got me. Didn't know I was even worthy of the best damn rescue squad we got.”

Charles's eyes snap to his then, narrowing a fraction. “Huh?”

“Dutch, I mean. An' you.”

“Oh.” That peculiar expression vanishes, Charles's face all-too-neutral. “Guess so”, he repeats, and Arthur draws back a little.

“Did I, uh–“ Glancing down, Arthur fiddles with the burned-out stub, staining his fingers with ash. “Didn't mean no offense, Charles. Been complainin' a lot but I wouldn't be here at all without you. Just wanted to let you know, 'm takin' none of that for granted.”

Suddenly Charles's hand is there, giving Arthur's a gentle squeeze. “Hey. That's not what I meant. Was just somewhere else, there.”

Automatically, Arthur squeezes back.

“Point still stands. Thank you.”

A quiet chuckle reels him back in, as it always does these days, “I'd do it again in a heartbeat, you know that”, and Arthur can't not look up at those words, searching his expression for– What, exactly?

What if, what if. The distance is gone, Charles's gaze warming further as Arthur's thumb brushes over the scarred back of his hand, feeling the calm rhythm of his pulse against his.

“What are we doing, Charles?”

The question is soft, said without any idea where it's headed: a road untraveled, missing from every map yet waiting to be explored.

Charles blinks, taken off guard. He opens his mouth, hesitates, admits, “Whatever you want us to”, sounding just as vulnerable as Arthur feels.

A split-second decision: Arthur tugs, Charles follows, catching himself against the boat. “Arthur”, he whispers, close enough Arthur can feel his breath on his face.

Arthur rasps, “Tell me to stop”, but Charles never does; he leans in, interlacing their fingers in the same moment their lips meet, tentatively – Arthur's eyes flutter shut, his fingers find the collar of Charles's shirt blindly, pull him ever-closer as he melts into it.

They barely part between one kiss and the next; Arthur murmurs Charles's name with the little breath he can catch, and “Fuck”, as Charles's tongue pushes into his mouth and he tastes smoke. His blood sings, throbbing in his veins in a dizzying rush, all the more prominent when Charles's thigh slides between his, caging him in–

The white-hot flash of pain comes so unexpected Arthur gasps, twisting his shoulder away from the pressure. Charles flinches, leans back, “Shit, sorry”, he pants out, mouth spit-slick and eyes wide.

Arthur can barely hear it over how loud his heart is, drumming away in his chest– “'m okay”, he says because Charles looks like he needs to hear it, but he doesn't let go, not yet.

“Come back. Please?”

Charles sways like he's drunk, nods – presses his forehead against Arthur's, noses brushing, but his tone is cautious, now. “We– This is not wise. You need time to heal.”

Arthur laughs, more than a little husky. “Do I look like I care about wise right now? Fuck, Charles.”

Charles's voice isn't faring much better; he hums a low “mmhm” before he kisses Arthur again, fleetingly. “Fuck me, indeed. I swear I had pure intentions with this.”

“You hate fishing. Dunno why you tried to convince me otherwise.”

“... I do, sorry.”

They share a smile, and Arthur shakes his head, tracing the curve of Charles's lips with his thumb.

“I don't mind. I prefer the alternative, too.”

>>Read on AO3

#red dead redemption #rdr2 #arthur morgan #charles smith #charthur #rdr fanfiction #fuckin......... finally #i'll probably write smut next lmao it's been a while #but these boys desperately need to 👏🏽 get 👏🏽 it 👏🏽#pls rb to feed your local fanfic writer!#my stuff #RDR

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bananashemmo · 7 years

Text

Committed The Robbery

Pairing: Y/N/Gangmember!Ashton

Rating: NC-17

Request: Yes

Words: 3.000+

Summary: On a scale from 1 to shit, how fucked would Ashton be if he ended up banging the other gangmember Luke’s little sister Y/N?

”Can you believe this? They sell these packages down by the store for literally nothing and look it’s insane! There is literally 1000 in one tube!” Michael excitedly showed the package of homemade cigarettes in the air, a package of tobacco accompanying the soon to be grey ashes.

Ashton looked over his shoulder with his own loosely resting between his plump lips, one of his legs dangling down on the rear of his red mustang, smoke clouding from his mouth once he had taken a large drag.

“I thought you said you were the one to quit.” He simply stated and stubbed the cigarette to the dark gray asphalt that still had poodles of rain from the morning. A few cracks allowed weeds to grow up and blossom trying to fit in like the large green football field right next to the parking lot.

“Well you know how that goes,” Michael laughed quietly to himself, “I desire the things that will destroy me in the end.”

The loud bass and drumbeat coming from Ashton’s radio inside his car made him tap his fingers lightly on his jean clothed thigh, taking another drag of his cigarette and blew it out towards the blueish sky. He agreed, but he didn’t want to put himself through the phase of trying not to smoke one.

“You heard that girl coming up to me at the strip club last night?” Calum questioned and watched Michael roll the cigarette on the top of the rack with careful hands. “She said that a cigarette is a pinch of tobacco rolled in paper with fire at one end and a fool at the other.”

“Girls are wicked at times.” Luke laughed and shook his head in disagreement. He had one arm resting on the top of the roof of the red stang, his leather jacket clutching tight to his broad shoulders.

They weren’t looking at each other but the shared gaze was pointed towards the same. Students were walking in a mob after classes had finished, some walking with books stabled in their arms and others heading for either their cars or bikes.

The weather left smiles on faces, squeezing their eyes once they were out in the bright light. The mix of people showed different personalities, different life stages and different attitudes. Sometimes it was inspiriting to watch. It was like a mix of sweets.

Ashton slowly lifted up the cold Carlsberg beer to his dry lips from the cigarette, taking a small sip and furrowed his eyebrows in a mix of many thoughts.

He could see a few students fool around as if they weren’t in their early twenties, seeing them give each other hip pushes and one of them knocking into the Sydney Falls College sign. It still looked the same when he had dropped out but yet, it was almost as if it was only a picture to him.

“I thought you said she would be out by now?” Michael mentioned after the small silence, his head slowly nodding to the tunes of Guns N’ Roses.

“She did… I’m just gonna try call her.” Luke replied and jumped down from the mustang to give himself some privacy. There was after all noises coming from the boys and the music, he wanted to make sure he heard every word over the phone.

Ashton looked over at Luke and observed his face expression as he dialed the number on his phone and reached it up to his ear. He had no expression on his face but neither had he opened his mouth and that made Ashton assume he was still listening to voicemail beeps.

His gaze went back to his feet and fiddled with the cigarette between his fingers. He could practically see the word life being written over the long white paper, seeing it burn slowly into ashes and falling down to the dirty ground. He was constantly reminded it was bad but that didn’t change his mind or perspective.

As he would say, “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

He was almost done with the cigarette when he looked up out of habit, his eyes squeezing and his eyebrows to the point of touching each other. It was far away but with their position in the middle of the parking lot he was able to see everyone coming out from the front entrance of the building that was placed right in the middle of campus.

He held his breath when seeing James come out from the door with a huge smirk plastered on his face, high-fiving two of his best friends whom Ashton could only consider as lost fucking puppies, always making sure to walk in his ass like some sort of horrible hemorrhoid.

They were amused over something and he could already feel the gutted feeling creep up his long spine.

There was something by the way James looked around that made his temper boil just by the sight of him. He was disgusted, he was many things at once and if it wasn’t for several reasons he would have beaten the shit out of him the second he would get the chance.

He had to behave. Not that he wanted to but it was something he was trying to stay with, he hadn’t beaten someone up for a very long times and despite it have been lingering in his knuckles, he kept himself down for one particular reason.

“Does she pick up?” Michael yelled towards Luke’s direction, watching the blond haired boy furrow his eyebrows by the sudden distraction with his finger pressed against his ear and shook his head in answer.

“Might as well fold another one then.” Michael mumbled more to himself than the others, letting the last bit of smoke cloud from his mouth before he opened one of the many thousands of mini papers and found his tobacco.

“What was her last class? Maybe’s she’s still there and we can go inside?” Calum questioned and sat up from leaning down on the rear for a little bit of tanning, he loved the sun and especially when it was warm like today.

“Don’t be an idiot we’re still completely expelled from this place. It’s funnily enough the only reason why we’re situated right here on the parking lot, it’s the only place that is not owned by River Falls College.” Michael reminded but not in a matching tone as his wording.

He was smiling down at his new homemade cigarette with excitement in his eyes, oh boy how he loved doing this already. He should do it for the living and sell them illegal to the kids around, they would bloody love it.

“I still don’t regret that expelling though.” Calum chirped in and grinned, Ashton faintly hearing them in the background as they chuckled in unison by the memory.

He couldn’t count the months it had been since it happened, but it was still a moment he would never forget. Their target had always been James and it would always be the second his big brother was out of the picture.

A plan that they all had settled together seemed to be the one to break everything. At first it was just something made up from a drunken night of beers and girls. Suddenly the plan became into something real and when it actually happened they got expelled from college one by one.

Michael and Calum weren’t really the ones to care much, Cal had only been a part of the football team and Michael hung out at the computer room. Luke had never cared, he had barely given a single glance to the school without some sort of purpose but with Ashton… He actually liked it.

Not that he preferred to wake up early and had to share a dorm room with someone named Timothy Brown. The kid was wacked and definitely the opposite of him personality wise but it still gave him some sort of peace from his otherwise usual busy daily life.

“Maybe she went home with some sort of guy?” Calum said just to be a tease and by that particular word both Ashton’s and Luke’s heads rose up in reaction for different reasons.

“She wouldn’t do that.” Luke replied but without any mimic on his face telling whether or not he was offended by Calum’s question and settled with trying to call again. He was after all an impatient guy who either called one or thirty times.

Ashton shrugged off the gutted feeling that once again spread on his spine and looked towards the entrance again where James was still standing. He hadn’t moved a single bit but laughed with his friends and that was when Ashton spotted the phone in his hand.

It was as if it was on perfect timing because right at the second James looked over at Ashton’s direction and despite the long distance they could still see each other’s faces perfectly.

The smirk was growing on James’ face as Ashton’s was falling more, his eyes confused to why they kept on sharing eye contact. It didn’t help less as they continued doing it and that was when James suddenly wiggled the phone in the air, Ashton’s eyes widened.

“He did not.” He almost mumbled below his breath, catching the other guys’ attention and made them look towards James as well.

Luke was the last one to turn around and look towards where the others were staring, but before he got the chance to fully realize what was happening the beeps stopped and someone answered the call.

“Hello Hemmings.” The voice was enthusiastic but still low and when Luke’s eyes met James from far distance he felt how his jaw was slowly falling.

“Supposed to pick up your little sister?”

“Where is she?” Luke growled into the phone and marched towards the other boys to get closer but still kept his gaze on James. There was no way in hell he would look away.

“Where she belongs. Let me give you a small hint.” James smirked and hung up on the phone followed by throwing it over his shoulder and into one of the many silver metal trashcans that were covering the front part of the entrance.

Luke eyed James laugh to himself and high-fived his friends for the last time and decided to leave, sprinting away and towards his truck to get away before something could happen. He was smart after all because he would assume the guys wouldn’t dare to walk in on the college property.

“If he thinks the second he’s getting away with this he’s the dumbest clueless idiot on earth.” Luke spat and forcefully placed his phone back in his leather jacket and watched as the others jumped down from the mustang ready to take action.

“Expelled my ass let’s get her.”

They could tell that students knew who they were the second they had smacked the door open to the entrance, some even stopping in track and watching them in the corner of their eyes.

Everyone knew about them and if they hadn’t met them in person they would have heard from student to student. Even the professors had spoken about the gossip and warned that it would almost be worth quitting their job if one of them had been in their classes.

“What was the last class she had?” Calum questioned again in hope of actually getting an answer this time, glancing towards a few girls almost completely pressed against their lockers with books in their hands.

“It must have been her Studio and 2-D art classes, she usually has that as her last class on Wednesdays.” Luke explained in a low mumble, smacking the door open to get to the next hallway but didn’t care if somebody stood in his way.

He had fire in his eyes with many mixed emotions clear on his face. The first was frustration followed by anger but he was also feeling nervous because he had absolutely no idea what in the world James had done.

What he thought to be a warning became real once they smacked the door open to the art room, seeing as it was empty expect for the corner. At first they couldn’t hear more than whimpers but when Michael shut the door close with a loud smack knocking appeared in the otherwise large pictorial room.

“Y/N?” Luke questioned out loud with a worried expression on his face, knocking down a few painting brushes in the process of walking past a few tables.

The knocking continued but they couldn’t find the source of it. Michael and Calum hurried towards the small room attached to the class room where a large oven for clay to give it a small checkup and Luke looked around the room towards the windows.

They could hear the desperateness of the knocks because they became more violent and heavy, Ashton looking around confused but that was when he saw the small trashcans by the end of the room where all the bottles of paint were placed.

“Over here.” He was quick to yell and practically threw the lit of the trashcan into the wall behind him, his heart skipping a beat once he got eye contact with a frightened and tied up you forced down into the small space.

“She’s right here.” He breathed and leaned down to take you up, feeling how you were shaking from top to toe but it didn’t help once he had you out and sat you on top of the many tables.

You were shaking so much he had never experienced this before, he could feel the anger start to build in his veins by seeing your misery. Your hair was covered with stains of paint, hands were tied behind your back and your mouth was covered with grey tape.

“I’m gonna try take it off as gentle as possible.” Ashton whispered just to make sure you wouldn’t be more frightened than you already were and slowly grasped onto the piece of tape that wasn’t completely stuck to your skin.

It didn’t prevent the huge whimper to come from your mouth once he removed it from your lips, a small cry coming from your mouth but you had already been crying so it just added to your furious state.

“Michael, knots.” Luke directed and he hurried over to you as well, you could tell how much he was ready to kill James for this.

Michael went behind your back to tie up the insanely strong robes that had made small burns around your wrists but it was a breath of relief that came from your mouth once you had your hands free again. You also had burns around your mouth and Luke carefully touched it but you winched away.

“He-, He put hydrochloric acid on the tape.” You said above a whisper as if you couldn’t believe that he had actually done that, a small bit of drool still being around your mouth and he used his thumb to wipe it away.

It made sense to the burns around your mouth and Ashton could almost feel the pain lingering in his veins. In fact he knocked down one of the homemade vases that stood by the table in pure frustration, the glass falling to the ground in many small pieces.

“He won’t get away with this.” He promised and grabbed onto your upper arms softly.

You couldn’t do anything else but shrug your shoulder because this wasn’t surprise. It had become a habit that never seemed to get away the more the boys tried to stop it. James was a challenging person, it was as if they constantly had a competition where no winners were announced.

“No he fucking won’t.” Luke growled in agreement and gave Ashton a nudge in the shoulder, “Give me your keys I have an idea.”

Ashton wouldn’t normally let the others borrow his mustang but for this he felt it was needed. For every time it had something to do with you he gave out instantly, never argued and was totally wrapped around your finger.

Luke made a motion for his finger for Calum and Michael to follow him towards the exit, his eyes boiling with fire.

“I have an idea. If it goes as planned I’m sure James will never touch Y/N again in any sort of way.” He explained and opened the door, letting the boys walk out in excitement as Michael clapped his hands in the air, it was finally time for something fun.

“Ashton.” Luke said before he walked out of the door, looking over at the curly haired lad with both serious but also soft eyes. He hummed in respond and looked away from you to look at him.

“Take care of her while I’m gone.”

Ashton nodded his head with no doubt of disagreement, watching Luke walk out of the door with satisfaction to the fact that as long as you would be near Ashton, nothing would ever harm or hurt you in any sort of way.

“I’d never do anything to hurt you.” He softly said and removed a piece of your hair to toy it around your ear, the innocence growing in your eyes by realizing that you were now completely alone with Ashton.

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