#my school life pretending to be a worthless person x you

[yusume-the-writer]

𝙼𝚢 𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚘 𝙱𝚎 𝚊 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗

Nothing yet... Maybe another day?

[offorestsongs]

THE ORANGE PEEL THEORY, BUT WITH MY OC X CANON'S

summary; literary just the "would you peel an orange for me?" thing but with my oc x canon ships (feat. Rook, Floyd, Vil & Riddle). that's all that's it

author's note; this is so very self indulgent forgive me. ALSO if there's any mistakes pretend there aren't its like 5am for me rn

LILYARROW

♡ “Uh, hey, would you peel this for me?”

♡ Lysander feels a bit silly asking for this; he knows Rook would bring him a piece of heaven if he just asked, there is no need for silly tests. But Cater had mentioned the idea a few days ago, and for one reason or another, it had stuck with Lysander.

♡ It’s just for fun, he tells himself, no harm in that.

♡ Rook smiles softly as he takes the orange out of Lysander’s hands.

♡ “But of course, mon fleur. Let’s give your pretty hands a rest, shall we?”

♡ It’s kind of stupid, Lysander thinks, how watching his boyfriend peel an orange for him makes him feel like basking in the sun. Maybe there is a point to this whole thing after all - it is still sweet to have such tangible proof that somebody cares. 

♡ If Rook knows he's being put to a test (and he most probably knows, let's be real) he doesn't show it in any way. 

♡ He treats the orange peeling with the seriousness of a military order. And he even takes off the gross white parts that Lysander hates!

♡ “Mhm. Now open your mouth~”

♡ Lysander blushes, a vivid pink on his pale cheeks. “You- You really don’t have to! It’s fine!”

♡ “Oh, but I do. It’s an honor, really.”

♡ Lysander never had much of a strong will, not when it came to Rook, anyway. He puts his embarrassment aside and lets Rook hand feed him the orange, piece by piece.

BLUEGLASS

♡ There’s no point in testing their relationships because they’re very much not in a relationship. A few (a lot) make out sessions in the dark corners of the school’s hallways do not a relationship make.

♡ And yet there Kalle is, in the Octavinelle Lounge, when it’s just them and Floyd, that stupid orange in hand.

♡ They know it’s a bad idea before they even ask.

♡ “Wanna peel this for me?”

♡ Floyd (the audacity!) laughs.

♡ “Nice try, fishie,” he says, still looking smug and amused, and annoying (so — like usual). “You don't think I'm stupid, don't ya?”

♡ “It's just an orange, Leech. It's not like you have anything to do anyways.”

♡ Floyd gives them a long look. “Yea, no. I don't think I feel like it.”

♡ Well. That was about what Kalle was expecting.

♡ Floyd leans over, in one swift motion takes the orange out of Kalle's hand m. Kalle doesn't even have it in themselves to protest.

♡ It's not like they care. It's just a stupid trend and a stupid orange, and a stupid eel. They don't care the slightest bit about any of this. 

♡ Floyd throws and catches the orange, looks it over carefully. For a brief, horrifying second, Kalle expects him to bite into it like an apple.

♡ But no. He peels it like a normal, well adjusted person then breaks it in half.

♡ “Here ya go, fishie. Happy now?”

♡ He throws half of the orange at Kalle. They're too surprised to actually catch it, letting the fruit fall on their lap.

♡ “Yeah. Thanks,” they mutter.

♡ When the silence falls between them, neither of them seem particularly happy.

THORNQUEEN

♡ “Vil, my darling dearest, my sweetest heart, the light of my worthless life, the apple of my eye, the—”

♡ Vil rolls his eyes. “Stop this,” he cuts in before Rosienne can continue with his tirade. “Spending so much time with Rook is bad for you. Just tell me what you want.”

♡ Rosienne grins.

♡ “Would you do me a favor and kindly peel this orange for me?”

♡ He’s being silly, he knows it well, but he can't help it. Rosienne's heart is an ugly, thorny thing that without constant reassurances will rot and wither. 

♡ Vil raises an eyebrow. “Really, dear, really? Is that what we're doing now?”

♡ Of course he instantly figured it out. It's Vil, after all.

♡ “Hey now! I was trying to be romantic, alright!”

♡ “No, you're being silly. Do you really think you need to put me to a test? Because if so, that's frankly quite insulting.”

♡ Both his tone and stare are as cold as the darkest months of winter and Rosienne is ready to start spilling apologies.

♡ And then Vil leans over to place a light kiss on Rosienne's forehead.

♡ “I will still peel it for you, if you just want the orange. They're good for your health either way.”

♡ Rosienne feels like he may cry. 

♡ “...yeah, yeah I do.” He takes a second to take a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. Sometimes he hates how easily crying comes to him. “Thank you.”

GLASSROSE

♡ For Eliott, it's less of a test and more of a cute little game. He loves Riddle more than the world itself, but he just wants to see Riddle’s reaction. For the fun of it, nothing more.

♡ At least there was a very low chance Riddle would know it's a trend — the boy didn't even know how to use most social media, bless his heart.

♡ “Would Her Majesty be so kind as to peel this orange for me?” Eliott asks, not even trying to contain his amusement.

♡ Riddle eyes him over carefully. He's definitely suspicious, taught by experience that his boyfriend is prone to coming up with various schemes, but finally comes to the conclusion that it can't be anything harmful.

♡ “Of course,” he just says, nodding.

♡ Eliott beams. “I love you so much. Have I told you that already? Because I do. So much.”

♡ The blush that blossoms on Riddle’s cheeks is maybe the most delightful thing Eliott has seen today. “Quite a lot, yes.”

♡ He peels the orange, quick and clean, then passes it back to Eliott.

♡ “You should have a half,” Eliott offers. “It's only fair.”

♡ Sometimes i love you is a neat little pile of orange peels. Sometimes i love you is an orange shared in half.

♡ When Riddle smiles at his boyfriend, it's soft.

[vegetable-man]

I don’t want to waste your time

AN: Hi this is my first fic. I wrote this instead of doing my mountains of homework. If you don’t like it that’s okay-- be nice >:).

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, character death, grief, wounds, and violence.

Steve Harrington x reader ANGST: Steve is your rock. Things go terribly and it’s too late to fix things.

Steve had been the most loving and kind boyfriend you had ever had.

You had been working in star court mall back when it had opened, across from scoops ahoy. Robin had convinced you one day in band class that if you worked in the mall, perhaps she would be able to sneak you cones for free. That, and she had wanted someone to spend her breaks with.

It was just you and Robin, that was, until good ole Stevie came into the picture. Over the course of all the coordinated breaks and flirting, Steve had swept you off your feet. It was only an added bonus that he was good enough for your best friend to come out to, and that your brother saw that world in him.

After asking you out after your shift one day, Steve was up a girlfriend and a tally under the ‘you rule’ column on Robin’s whiteboard. But, he wasn’t planning on earning anymore tallies for the foreseeable future.

Being Dustin’s older sister, and often a fly on the wall at Hawkins High, you had heard about Steve’s failures with love, of his ugly breakup with Nancy. But, you had never had the pleasure of meeting this ‘King Steve’ who suffered the heartbreak. Although pleasure would’ve not been the word for it, you assumed, you had been familiar enough with the personalities and quirks of most of the people at Hawkins High.

It seemed like Steve had really turned over a new leaf. He had forgotten Nancy and moved on with you, someone he expressed and showed his love for, much to your brother’s disgust. But, while your brother was busy playing in campaigns at Hellfire, you had been immersing yourself in all things Steve.

Now, with Steve working at Family Video, you made all the effort to visit him when you could. Tuesday nights would come, the door would ring and his head would pop up like one of Pavlov’s dogs, just to watch you saunter in, lunch in hand.

It always started the same. Steve would pretend not to know you, send you a heartbreaking smirk, and flirt with you like his life depended on it. The back and forth was the highlight of his night, always ending with some loving and a lunch that you made for him. He considered you one of his blessings, as hard as they were to come across in a town like Hawkins.

Through all the craziness and the strange things that happened in the town of Hawkins, you were glad to have Steve. Although right now, it didn’t seem like such a blessing.

…

You had been familiar with all of Dustin’s friends, even those like Eddie, who you had talked to on numerous occasions even before Dustin entered high school. So, when Hawkins became a little stranger, and a bit more dangerous, you were on high alert.

Eddie had been accused of murder.

Of course, if anyone had really known Eddie, or at least had a conversation with him, they would have known this was bullshit. Eddie had shooed the small spiders in the theater room away during Hellfire more than once and displayed his kindness in many other ways. But, the town needed a scapegoat and who better than the town’s freak.

Finding Eddie in the boathouse and skull rock had been gut wrenching and planted a seed of anxiety in you. Not only was this because of the uncertainty of Eddie’s future, but the feeling of impending danger for you and your closest friends.

Vecna was the cause, and you all had been the unfortunate heroes.

Heaviness was not a stranger to you. You often expressed to Steve and Robin your anxieties and feelings of worthlessness that always seemed to creep up on you. Without hesitation, Steve had been the one to hold you close and whisper with lips to your temple how much he needed you, how much he loved you.

This, however, was an unprecedented brand of heaviness, and Steve wasn’t going to be there like before.

Throughout the craziness of preparing and planning to take down Vecna, you had noticed a change in Steve. You initially wanted to attribute it to the stress of the world, and the lives of the kids he loved so much, on his shoulders but something was off. Steve had been acting differently around Nancy.

He had been sending glances to Nancy and stepping away from you at the height of this mess.

You weren’t a jealous person, but it did hurt you to lose some of his support at such a critical time for the lot of you. So, if he wanted some space, you weren’t going to waste his time.

…

The bumps of the stolen RV on Hawkins dinky roads kept you from sleeping in the presence of all your friends. Laying on one of the benches next to Robin, you closed your eyes in an attempt to get some rest when you overheard a conversation between Steve and Nancy.

Steve was speaking gently, “you know” he breathed “I always had this dream that I’d have this really big family… like really big with a full brood of Harringtons, three girls three boys” he paused “and I have this dream that we would travel the country in an RV like this, settle in some beachside town learn how to surf or, I don’t know make sandcastles or something”

You smiled from the backseat, thinking about how much you and Steve had talked about having a family. One thing for sure, is that you both wanted to have as many kids as possible. After all this distance between you and Steve, it felt reassuring to hear that he was still on the same page about your futures.

Nancy smiled at him and responded absentmindedly but had this nagging nervous feeling in her chest. She quickly glanced towards the back benches to see that you had been leaning on Robin with your eyes closed and, for all intents and purposes seemed asleep.

Looking back at Steve, Nancy smiled again and then looked out the window.

“you know” Steve’s hands shifted on the steering wheel as he looked back towards the others in the RV, the people that he grew so close to and loved within the last few years “you were always in that dream”

Nancy’s heart fell through her chest and the floor of the RV, getting squashed under the running wheels on asphalt.

“Sometimes I just feel like I’m wasting my time here in Hawkins, and you have so much potential and life in you its… I don’t know” Steve sighed and glanced at her quickly, not noticing the anxiety in her eyes as she looked through the rearview mirror to see you still leaned against Robin.

There was some sort of relief in her, but she knew you had been listening.

“thank you” she whispered.

Thanking god, rather, that you had at least not said anything or shifted in the moment, she turned up the music and tried to distract herself the upcoming plan to take Vecna down.

…

Robin, for all he awkwardness and lack of social cues, felt like the fly on the wall. Robin had heard everything, from the six kids, which he was horrified by, to his admission to feeling like his time was being perpetually wasted.

She would be remised to say that that didn’t hurt her, that she hadn’t once thought that her friendship hadn’t been good enough for him. All that to say, she was furious. Not only for her, but for you. Robin felt you shift under his admission and bore holes through your eyelids begging you to open them and say something. If not to him, to her. Robin had also been your rock and knew how harshly  he had opened the feelings he, and herself, had tried so hard to sew together in a small unbreakable pocket.

However much Robin had felt the disappointment and hurt at the beginning of the dismantling of yours and Steve’s relationship, unknown to him, there was a job to do. Going through the opening to the upside down and breaking off into groups was her main concern, she could coddle you after Vecna’s death.

When they all arrived, Steve took charge of the plan, separating everyone and assuring them of their roles.

Steve was with Robin and Nancy and you had been with Eddie and Dustin. No matter how much Steve tried to argue with you, you refused to leave your brother alone. And perhaps, you thanked your foresight because you didn’t know how useful you would have been next to the man who had finally expressed his distain for you.

Steve looked around at Eddie and Dustin, with his eyes landing on you. “hey guys, if anything goes bad, you hightail it out of here, you understand?” his eyes were pleading with you to be safe, to be careful, but you averted your gaze towards the ground “don’t try to be cute, or heroes, or something”

Steve paused to take steps toward you when he was interrupted by a smiling Eddie, “look at us, are not heroes”. Eddie wrapped his arm around you waist and his other around Dustin’s shoulder to bring you both closer to him. With that motion your chin was brought up to smile at Eddie’s shit eating grin. Although there had been a hurt growing in your chest since riding in the RV, Eddie had a soothing hand.

Steve, nevertheless took steps toward you to guide you out of Eddie’s form into his.

“Please be safe” he searched in your eyes with furrowed brows “I love you”.

Although he had said it with an air of finality, your heart could no longer believe him. “Okay,” you paused as his brows furrowed even further at the strange response “I love you too”. And, with that, Steve’s face slightly relaxed as he pecked your lips and squeezed your waist. Reluctant to let you go, Steve slowly pulled away and walked the long journey to the Creel house.

…

Robin was walking in front of Steve, mulling over the words he had so carelessly expressed to Nancy in the RV. Having had enough of her spiral, she paused to let Steve catch up to her and confronted him.

“You should tell her, you know” Robin muttered casually.

“Huh?” Steve was confused about Robin’s sudden somber attitude, looking around to find Nancy a few yards in front of the both of them.

“You should tell her you don’t love her anymore.” She said quickly, “you know, instead of stringing her on to fill your miserable time at Hawkins”

Steve was taken aback by the bite of her tone. For all the years he had known Robin, he knew that she wasn’t one to snap at anyone.

“Are you talking about my girlfriend?” Steve asked incredulously.

“Yeah your girlfriend, my best friend, who I might add I’ve known longer than you and don’t appreciate what you said in the RV because it hurt my feelings too but I cant imagine how much it hurt-“

“woah hey stop” Steve looked at her and stopped walking. “what did I say?”

Robin’s head shook, “Steve, do you really feel like you’re wasting your time with us?... and why are you with her if you still love Nancy?”

Steve started to feel itchy with anxiety, “I don’t love Nancy, Robin.”

“Then why couldn’t you hold yourself back from telling her about all the babies you wanted to have with her?”

Steve was quiet, and started to walk again, albeit faster and pointedly away from Robin.

“Steve, seriously, when we get back you have to talk to her.”

Steve didn’t respond because he didn’t realize you had heard what he said. In the moment he had forgotten about the two women in the back bench listening on his conversation, too busy trying to gauge Nancy’s interest in him and relive old feelings from a much simpler time. The itch of regret and anxiety got worse as he raked his hands down the column of his neck, thinking about all the times you had sat in the front passenger seat of his car in tears searching for his approval and healing hand.

Steve knew he fucked up.

Steve also knew that feelings were complicated and, maybe, he did have residual feelings for Nancy.

Something Steve didn’t know was how he was going to fix this.

The dark floor of the upside down swallowed his feelings as he focused on getting his job done so he could go back to you and pick up the pieces.

…

“Are we ready?!”

“All set lets go!”

You and Dustin were sitting on the sidelines of Eddie’s amps and chords waiting for the first strum of Eddie’s guitar. You squeezed Dustin’s shoulder and looked him in the eyes with a smile as Eddie perfectly recreated the newest Metallica hit. Looking out into the thunderous sky, you could see the swarm of demobats heading towards the trailer you had all built into a fortress.

With the ending of Master of Puppets and the impending contact with the bats, the three of you rushed into the trailer.

“DUDE MOST METAL EVER!!!!!!” Dustin was screaming as they both jumped up and down. You couldn’t help but laugh at the two boys and, honestly Dustin was right, it was pretty fuckin metal.

Interrupting the celebration was the beating of bat bodies on the aluminum of the trailer. Fuck, your heart started racing as the bats found new ways to enter the trailer and ultimately put you, Eddie, and Dustin in danger.

In a moment of panic you screamed, “FUCK LETS GET OUT OF HERE” and pushed both Dustin and Eddie towards the portal in the opposite room of the trailer.

“go go go fucking go Dustin I’m not playing with you” you screamed at him as he climbed the rope. Moving aside to let Eddie go, you pushed him toward the rope despite his protests and bit out “I’m coming right after you so go now dumbass”.

The rattling of the bats on the plates and structure of the trailer made your bones feel cold and, with a sudden thought, you knew that if the bats went through the portal, all three of you would be in danger.

You grabbed one of the spears discarded on the ground and with a quick swipe of a blade on the top of the portal, you cut the rope. Dustin was screaming for you to come back as you sprinted out of the trailer doors to expose yourself to the hoard of bats.

Running away from the bats was not going to get you anywhere and your adrenaline could only get you so far. You spotted an abandoned bike near the edge of a nearby trailer and frantically got on it. Pedaling towards the center of the trailer park was no easy feat. You were hoping it would be a safe distance away from the portal to draw out enough time for Steve, Nancy, and Robin and enough distance for Eddie and Dustin.

You couldn’t bike forever, and with the force of bats pummeling your side, you fell.

The carnivorous bats, then, did what they knew best.

…

“Eddie let me go now please” Dustin sobbed as Eddie pushed him into one of the rooms in his trailer, taking furniture and barricading the door.

Eddie knew that Dustin would go back without hesitation but he also knew you would kill him if he let Dustin get hurt.

With that in mind, Eddie locked and forced Dustin out of the room, then finding a chair to stand on, jumped back through the portal to find you.

It was quiet.

Eddie could only assume that the bats had gone elsewhere and carefully left the trailer. In the distance, he could see the falling of thousands of bats and a small form in their center.

Eddie’s heart dropped as he sprinted towards you. When he got to you his legs fell weak and his hands were violently trembling. Eddie saw your body in a ball, clutching your legs and protecting your head.

You were still breathing, however, and that lifted a worry off Eddie’s shoulders.

Eddie gently took your body and rolled you onto your back. Once again, the worries settled tenfold on his shoulders as he looked at your torn flesh. As you glanced at his face you began to have a panic attack. There was no hope for you to get out of here, so Eddie embarked on damage control.

“Sweetheart you’re ok, you’re going to be okay” he tried to smooth the blood soaked hair off of your forehead and out of your eyes.

“I’m sor-sorry. I’m s-so sorry” you were choking on your words and erratic breaths impaired your speech. Eddie noticed that while the blood on your cheeks was beginning to clear from your tears, there was even more blood coming out of your mouth as you spoke and spluttered.

“What are you sorry for sweetheart? You did so good, Dustin is safe, you’re going to be okay” Eddie tried to soothe you.

“I h-had to m-ake up for it” a large sob escaped your mouth “p-please don’t let D-ustin se-ee me like this” and your breaths became more erratic and violent.

Eddie didn’t know what to do but lift and hold you. With his mouth to your temple he shushed and hummed to you as your breathing slowed and ultimately stopped.

As you died, Eddie couldn’t help but let out a couple sobs of his own. But once done, he picked you up and slowly walked you back to his trailer.

In the distance he could see Dustin limping down the steps and making his way toward the both of you.

“Eddie, what happened, WHAT HAPPENED?” Dustin choked. Eddie did not respond, but by the looks of your limp form in his arms, Dustin knew you were gone.

…

Beaten and battered, Eddie and Dustin had managed to get you through the portal and set your body on a mattress. Both of them had sat next to you, looking at your face while Dustin stroked your hair.

They could hear the footsteps of three people near the portal and Eddie turned to see Steve enter first.

“How did it-“

Steve saw the somber forms of both boys and bloodstains coming from a body on the mattress.

His heart dropped, his legs went numb, and his skin began to crawl.

As Steve took shaky steps around Eddie’s hunched form to see you on the mattress, he stumbled and almost fell. Once he took a look at your mangled face, still beautiful, still the woman he fell in love with, he felt the urge to puke.

Steve took a step to the side and puked in the corner of the room. He was feeling lightheaded and strange as he looked back to the wounds and blood exiting your body.

Nothing could have prepared him for this.

Nothing could have prepared him for the scream that Robin let out as she threw herself onto the mattress that held your body.

“Please,” she sobbed “this isn’t real please”. Robin was gasping and gripping at your blood-soaked clothes, a shirt that Steve bought you because it reminded him of you.

Eddie stood up and sat back down, feeling weak and anxious, not knowing what to do with his body.

Nancy stood behind the two boys with tears in her eyes, not being able to look at you for more than a few moments.

Steve felt selfish. Without looking at you, he saw the faces of the other four people in the room and his vision swam. When his eyes scanned you too long, he could see a new wound, he could feel the fear and pain in every bite, imagining how scared you must have felt.

Steve worked at family video. He felt like this was some sick movie.

He no longer had to think about how he was going to pick up the pieces of you.

He knew that you died feeling unloved, alone, and scared, and that was more than enough to send him reeling.

His heavy steps approached your body as he collapsed and held a hand far too cold to the warm and gentle havens he knew.

Words could not form, and none escaped him.

…

Hawkins was in shambles. The earthquakes rattled almost every facility, and deaths tolled by the thousands.

You were just one number in the thousands dead from the earthquake.

While Eddie reunited in secret with Wayne, Nancy met with her family, and everyone clung onto the ones they loved, Steve was left bare. Sure, he had his family, his irrevocably fucked family. He could almost laugh at the words he used to tell you: ‘you’re the only thing in this town that loves me, I love you so much, you mean the world to me’. He used to say it in your darkest moments, but right now, he finds it ironic as he tries to grasp for anything you.

Dustin and his mother were crushed by your death. You were his only sister, her only daughter, and the strain it put on their family was unmatched. Steve knew that they would come out stronger. Dustin was a good kid, a smart kid. He could only watch as they closed the door to your room and left it untouched.

Steve wanted to scream. He wanted to take everything from your room and hoard it under his covers, keep it close to him and pretend you were there with him but he knew it would cause him more grief.

Robin had barely spoken to him. Considering the circumstances, and resentment he assumed she had for him, he couldn’t blame her.

Steve felt guilty. Hours before your death he ripped away the strongest sense of security you had. Eddie had told him the details of your death after much prodding from the shorter haired man.

He often wanted to throw up when he thought about it for even a moment.

Steve knew what you were thinking. He knew you didn’t want to waste his time.

But, with a jagged feeling in his chest he couldn’t help but think he had wasted yours instead.

[iguessilovebakugou]

Stranger ||  Bakugou x Reader ||  { Anon Request }  ||  Stalking

TW:  Cursing ||  Stalking || Threats of violence  ||  Implied desire for Non-Con (not from Bakugou tho) Word Count:  5.5K

It started after the Sport Festival.  

A DM that had been sent to your private social media account - a friend from your old school named Honoka. You hadn’t spoken to her since starting UA - and the moment you saw the notification, you felt guilty that this was how she had to reach out to you.  She had been so proud of you when you got accepted, she almost started crying, hugging you tightly and telling you as much.  She asked you to keep in contact in High School.  You had promised her you would.

You had been so busy, it was hard keeping promises.

Honoka: Hey!  I saw you on the TV - you were amazing!  I can’t believe they wouldn’t let you pass onto the finals.  Good thing though - you would have gone against that asshole.

Honoka:  Not that you couldn’t have handled it!

It should have tipped you off that one of the quieter kids of school would have used such language, but it didn’t.  It had been a few months since starting high school and people have changed faster.  You didn’t think much about it aside from replying before your train pulled into the station.  You might miss your stop and be late to school.  

You were always punctual and refused to have something as stupid as that go against your record.  

You waited until you were off the train, standing on the steps before sending a quick message. 

Thanks!  It was really terrifying.  But I lost fair and square.  Besides, I wasn’t the only one who didn’t make it to the finals.  So I guess it’s okay. :) 

You decided not to humor her comment about Bakugou.  While it drew a hot, angry tie around your neck, part of you understood.  Honoka wasn’t alone in thinking he was...less than pleasant.  It had been a point of contention, something that bothered you both that day and since.  People were just wrong about him.  She didn’t know him like Class 1-A did.  A few short clips from some televised sports festival didn’t do him nearly the justice he was deserved.

You didn’t have enough time to put your phone back in your jacket pocket when it buzzed again. 

Honoka: Still.

Honoka: You were so strong.  We all think they should have made an exception for you.

Honoka: We should meet up sometime.  Gtg! Text me after school to set up a time!

You wanted to question it but you didn’t.  

You really should have questioned it.  

King Explosion Murder was a perfectly good name.

Miss Midnight just doesn’t understand art.

The conversation had been going on for a hour.  It was the longest that you and Bakugou had texted.  You had moved from a group text to your own private thread.  He didn’t text you like normal boys did - no pictures, no emojis, no stupid memes he had found.  It was...conversation, one that hadn’t been as hard to keep going as you thought.  you tried to distract yourself with school work while he replied, but found it hard not to keep your attention on your screen as the text bubble flashed.  

Bakugou:  It was better than “Deku”.

Well Deku was less violent

Bakugou:  AND IT WAS STILL BETTER

Bakugou:  THAN FUCKING DEKU’S

Honoka: You still up?

You stopped.  Honoka?  Why on earth was she texting you...oh shit.  You groaned, rubbing your eyes and kicking yourself for forgetting to text her back like she had asked.  You had been so wrapped up texting Bakugou since getting home that it just completely slipped your mind.  Though, to be fair, most things slipped your mind around him.

You opened your chat with her, trying to figure out how to apologize without seeming like too much of an asshole.

Hey, yeah, sorry.

I started talking to one of my classmates and totally forgot.  

My bad, dood. 

Once again, she replied quickly. 

Honoka: Who were you talking to?

There was a small part of you that wanted to ask her why it was her business, but you bit your tongue.  She probably didn’t mean anything by it and some residual bitterness from her comment this morning was probably lingering.  You took a deep breath. 

Bakugou.  

We workshopped hero names today.  His got shot down by our teacher.  

It was so sad. 🤣🤣🤣

Honoka:  Why are you talking to him?

It wasn’t a question, not really.  It was a statement.  Like you talking to Bakugou was taboo, you could practically hear her grasping her pearls.  You shouldn’t have had to explain to her why you were talking anyone, let alone him, and it bothered you that she felt she was owed that right. That she even dare ask the question. Your brow furrowed as you sat up in bed.  

What do you mean?

Honoka:  Why are you talking to him?  He seems like an dick

Honoka:  And isn’t good for you. 

Honoka:  You need to focus on being the best hero you can be.

Honoka:  He seems like he would only drag you down. 

Rage filled your stomach.  Your hands were shaking as you tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.  She had never acted this way before...right?  She had always been so nice and meek and unassuming and... 

You were confused, finding yourself chewing on your lip as you tried to make sense of what the hell you were seeing.

He’s my friend.  I really like him.

Look, he’s not as mean as he appears on TV.  He’s actually a really good guy.  And he’s really smart and he’s going to be a better hero than even me some day.

So I would appreciate it if you didn’t talk about him like that.

The chat bubble popped up.  Then disappeared.  Then popped up.  And disappeared again.

It’s funny - you had never felt so threatened by someone not answering.  But as the bubble flashed for a final time, something told you that you had fucked up. 

Honoka was always quiet, yes, but she was also amazingly sweet.  She cried when you were little kids at the ending scene in All Dog’s Go to Heaven, always scrounged up change to donate to someone on the street looking for food, and volunteered every weekend to help with the younger students struggling in studies.  She hadn’t been born with a mean bone in her body.  

But by the end of the week, you were certain the person messaging you wasn’t the same Honoka you knew.  She had changed - and not for the better.  Not in the slightest.  She was growing more insistent that you talk to her - every night.  And if you didn’t?  

The calls were incessant.  One after the other until you finally had to shut your ringer off.  And the voicemails - she never spoke.  Just let it sit for a moment before hanging up.  And you were grateful for it - you didn’t want to talk to her.  Every chance she got, she showered you with praise and adoration while slinging hate at all your friends in 1-A.  But no one got it like Bakugou did.

Honoka:  Stop talking to him.

It’s not any of your damn business who I’m talking to.

Honoka:  If you don’t stop talking to him, I’ll tell him what a whore you were in Middle School.

The water of your bath was scalding, but that didn’t stop you from shaking.  Why was she doing this to you?  Why was she so adamant about making your life miserable?  This wasn’t Honoka - not even in the slightest.  

I’m blocking you.  Leave me alone.

Don’t talk to me anymore.

No matter what, he was pure evil to Honoka.  He was disgusting, arrogant, rude, a monster, a villain hiding in sheep's clothing and would do nothing but drag you down.  He would hurt you, she said.  

Honoka:  Go ahead.  I’ll just make other accounts.

She was as good as her word.  At least that hadn’t changed.

Your classmates were starting to take notice.  After the first few accounts were blocked, she started using a calling app to randomly call you - only to hang up the moment you answered.  Sometimes it was once a night, supplemented with texts about what a no good, lying whore you were.  About how you were just some slut who’s opening you legs for the first guy who gave you any attention. 

Honoka:  Fucking skank.

Honoka:  You’re so fucking worthless.  

Honoka:  You fucking him?  Is that it?  Is that why you want to defend him so bad?

Honoka:  He’s probably fucking every other girl in your class.

Other times, the calls were every hour on the hour.  It had gotten so bad, that you started sleeping in later and later.

You raced through the empty halls, trying to will time to back up.  You had slept in, missing your first train.  When you got on the second one, you fell back asleep until the stop after yours.  The only thing you could do was get off and just run to school as fast as you could.  Class had started 20 minutes ago.  This had never happened before - in your whole life.  You were always meticulous about getting to class early.

You were a good student.  A good person.  You were.  

“Well, look who decided to join us.”  Mr. Aizawa didn’t even bother to hide the annoyance in his voice.  It made it all the more terrible

You wanted to cry.  You felt the eyes of everyone in your class fall on you.  It made your skin squirm, your stomach flip.  You wanted to turn around and just...run home.  To crawl into your bed and... 

You bowed low, your head almost hitting the floor.  “I’m so sorry I’m late, sir!  It won’t happen again!”

“Be sure that it doesn’t.”  His glare hardened.  “We’ll talk after class about your punishment.”

Punishment.  Shit.  You couldn’t speak, resigning to solemnly nodding as you making the walk of shame to your seat, collapsing down.  You had to take a minute, to steady your breath.  To try and collect yourself.  At least at school, you had an excuse not to answer her texts.  To ignore her and pretend like she wasn’t out there being fucking crazy.  School was safe.  School was free from it all.

Almost by habit, you turned and looked over at Bakugou.  A small part of you was praying that he was looking at you.  That his glare would ground you in a way only it knew how.  But when your eyes met...the only thing you felt was misery.  

You fucking him?  Is that it?  

Your heart raced, panic flooded your nerves, and all you wanted to do was run.  Get away from everyone and just...just go to sleep.  You just wanted to sleep.  But Honoka wasn’t allowing that.  You couldn’t stop thinking about half of the things she said while the other half had been resting heavily in your stomach, making you sick.  She was stealing everything from you.

You’re a fucking slut opening her legs for the first guy who gives you attention.  And of course it had to be that fucking dog.

No...no you couldn’t look at him for too long, afraid that he would know.  Terrorized as you were, you couldn’t run the risk of him finding out.  Because...what if she messaged him first?  What if she told him all of her lies and...what if he believed her?

No.  No, that couldn’t happen.

You pulled away from his stare, folding in on yourself.  Just get out your books.  Focus on class and get out your books.  Your phone dinged and your blood ran cold.  You dreaded even looking at it, but as you tugged out your notebook,  the piece of plastic fell, resting against the back of your bag.  It was as if some higher power was damning you to be always aware of the vitriol Honoka was spewing in your direction.  The lock screen shone bright: 21 missed texts, 44 missed calls.  But the most recent message sent horror down your spine.

Honoka:  Naughty girl, sleeping in late for school.  

You slipped out of the lunch room and made your way down the hall.  You were going to put an end to this - once and for all.  You didn’t know what game Honoka was playing at, but whatever it was, you were fucking done.  She was starting to seep into every facet of your life and it was ending now.  Right then, in that hallway.  

When you got a safe distance away from the double doors, to ensure no one could hear you when you started screaming, you searched through your contacts for her number.  When you finally found it however...

God, just looking at her name made you sick.  The fact her contact picture was of you and her, eating ice cream at a beach, grinning and giving the camera a peace sign, posing as only 12 year old girls knew how, it drove a knife into your chest, twisting it even deeper the longer you stared at it.  She was making your life a living hell.  It wasn’t right, it didn’t make any fucking sense.  Why was she doing this to you?  Did you do something to her?  Were you cruel in your last interaction?  Did you make a joke that went so poorly that she decided the only way to get back at you was to ruin your entire life?  To push you so close to the edge that...

She going out of her way to make your life a living hell and for what?  

Well, no better time like the present to find out.

Your thumb slammed down on the dial button.  Each ring was like nails on chalk board.

Her voice was even worse.

She said your name so surprised, before crying it out in joy.  “Oh my god, it’s been so long!”

Well...that...wasn’t...true?

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Honoka went silent on the other end of the phone.  “Uh...are you okay?”

“You’ve been harassing me since the festival and you’re just going to act like-”

“Wait...what?”

“The thousands of texts!?  The millions of calls!?”

She didn’t answer.  You couldn’t help the grin that spread over your face.  You fucking got her.  You caught her in her bullshit lie and she didn’t have anything to say for it.  You hated to admit it, but part of you was excited to hear how she was going to explain it way.  How she was going to break down and finally you could tell her off and it was going to stop and you could get a good night’s sleep and maybe your mom could make your favorite curry and you would be able to eat it and not throw it up later and -

“I haven’t been texting you.”

Well...you couldn’t have said you were expecting that.  You stopped, staring at your feet.  “I...what?”

“I...haven’t been calling you.  Or texting you.”  She said, her voice - that ever familiar voice - filled with worry.

...of course she would be worried.  She was always so fucking nice. 

“Yes you have!!”  You shouted, gritting your teeth.

She said your name, so softly and so calmly, “No.  I haven’t.  I promise you, I haven’t.  Are you okay?  Is everything alright?”

The phone vibrated in your fingers and the screen lit up once more.  Another unknown number was calling you.  You didn’t hesitate and for the first time since this all began you answered the her-him-they-it. 

“What!?”  You screamed, pressing the phone to your ear.  You strained to hear, to try and find out who was doing this to you.  “What do you want!?  Why are you doing this to me!?  Leave me alone!!!”

...click!

The dial tone felt like a death sentence.

The hallway shrunk and expanded, growing larger and darker - like the mouth of the beast, it was going to swallow you whole.  You pressed your phone to your forehead, slumped to the floor and realized...you were crying.  No, not just crying.  You were sobbing, each one wracking your body and shaking your bones.  Shit...shit, shit, shit.  You just wanted to go back to the way things were.  You wanted it to stop, wanted whoever was doing this to leave you alone and - 

Your phone buzzed again.  Another message.  

Another sob rocked your body, but you found the strength to turn it back into view.

UNKNOWN NUMBER ::  [ MULTIMEDIA MESSAGE ]

Your fingers trembled so hard you almost dropped the phone.  You didn’t want to look at whatever it was.  Whoever was doing to you was fucking sick, was deranged and psychotic and out of their mind and...you had to do something about it.  Maybe you could tell a teacher?  But what could they do about it?  Up security?  Just for you?  No, it was entirely out of the question.  You couldn’t go to the police - since who ever this was hadn’t physically done anything to harm you.  

You were on your own.

You opened the message.

It was your house.  The sun was setting.  Then another.  This one was early in the morning.  Then another.  And another.  Another another another another another another another another another different angles, different times of day...but all focused on one spot. 

Your bedroom.  Sometimes it was empty, but other times you were in shot.  Sometimes working on homework, sometimes sitting with your cat on the window sill, other times pulling your shirt above your head, reaching behind your back for your bra and...

UNKOWN NUMBER :  Stop ignoring me.

Your phone clattered to the floor as you gripped your hair, trying to steady your breathing.  In two three fours, Out two three fours.  In two three fours, Out two three-

“Hey.”

The scream was involuntary, as was backing against the lockers so hard that you slammed your head against them.  Bakugou recoiled, staring at you, his eyes wide with surprise.  It didn’t last long, quickly overtaken by gritted teeth and snarls.  “The hell is your-”

He must have noticed the tears, the absolute panic on your face.  The silence fell over the two of you, the echo of your scream now long gone.  You wished you were.  You couldn’t look at him, couldn’t face the shame of what was happening.  How could you explain it. 

“You alright?”  

You pulled your legs up to you chest, hugging them tightly.  “No,” You replied.

Bakugou was never one for consolations.  So you were almost surprised when all he made his way over to where you were sitting and sat down beside you.  You flinched, only a little, but it didn’t seem to bother him none.  He shoved his hands in his pockets, but didn’t say a word, his bright red eyes focused out the window across from you.  You...were grateful.  For the first time in almost two weeks, you didn’t feel entirely vulnerable.  Like everything was crumbling down around you.  And in this small moment of peace, you felt horribly exhausted.  Your mind ached, your body was sore, your eyes were so red and...and...

You rested against his shoulder and he didn’t make a move to stop you.  It was like Bakugou was putting himself between you and...whoever was stalking you.  

Stalking you.  You had a stalker.  

You sniffled, wiping the tears from your eyes.  “I’m sorry.”  You offered.

“For what?”  He barked.

“For crying.”

He didn’t answer for a moment, “Tch.  Yeah, well...maybe suck it the hell up.  Whatever it is, it’s not a big deal.”

Not a big...you turned to look at him, eyes narrowing.  “Not a big deal...?”  

He looked at you, a bored and disgruntled expression on his face.  “Yeah.”

“It’s kind of a big fucking deal.”

“Oh yeah?  Well then what the hell is it?”

“Whoa, it’s that kid who just won the Sports Festival!”

“Oh, wow!  He’s so much scarier in person!”

“Do you think he would be mad if I asked for an autograph?”

“Yeah! Look at his mug - he’s obviously pissed off about something!”

Bakugou had stayed late, even through your detention, to walk you home.  It was nearly dark now as you walked side by side down your street.  The sun was struggling to peak over the row of houses and a purple ink had settled over the top of the sky.  

It was taking everything in you not to apologize...again.  He didn’t need to be dragged into your mess.  But...shit, it wasn’t like you weren’t ecstatic that he offered to walk you home back in the hallway.  He was a terrifying presence, unstoppable.  As he stalked down the road towards your house, a scowl on his face as his eyes peered around every corner, it hit you that you felt safer now than you had the past few weeks.  

“Hey.”  You picked up the pace, making sure to stay close.  “Thank you again.  I just-”

“Ugh, stop thanking me!”  He glared at you.

“I’m just-”  You sighed and gripped your bag straps.  “I...I don’t see the point of you walking me home.  Not...that I don’t appreciate it, I just...won’t that make him mad?”

Bakugou scoffed.  “That’s the point, you idiot.”

Sometimes, you thought you almost understood him.  But then he blew up Rome and screamed at you to start over tomorrow morning.  You stared at him in confusion though ultimately decided you didn’t have the energy to argue.  You were just...thankful that he was here.

“This is me.”  Your house was a small thing, nestled on the corner and surrounded by a garden that was meticulously maintained by your mom while you were at school and your father was at work.  Sometimes the pictures had her in the shot, busy at work.  Your lips thinned as you stared up at the second story window,  Your white curtains lay still and your cat stared down at you, like she knew something was wrong.  Like she knew...that things were amiss. 

Well...Bakugou came all this way and the guy didn’t have the guts to show himself.  As you had figured, you had completely wasted his time.  It wasn’t like he was going to move in just to be your watchful protector.  You didn’t want to think that maybe he was just patiently waiting until you were alone but...

“Do you want to come in for something to drink.  It’s the least I could...”  

Bakugou wasn’t looking at you.  His attention was focused entirely over your shoulder.  You blinked, taken aback by the cold, dead glare on his face.  The way his eyes seemed to burn with...rage?  Unbridled anger?  Nothing seemed to do whatever it was justice.  “You’ve been following us since the train station!”  He yelled out.  “Why don’t you stop being a fucking coward and come out of hiding!!”

…someone...had been following you?

You could see the reflection of someone in his eyes.  With a shaking breath, you turned to look at who he was talking to.

You weren’t sure what you expected.  But throughout the day, you had come up with an image in your mind of what your stalker had looked like.  He would be the perfect embodiment of the horror you had suffered though, that was for certain.  A Cheshire grin, wild unkempt hair, vacant, glossy eyes, maybe a knife or something - anything to solidify himself as the monster who had been making your life miserable.  But...he wasn’t.  As you got a good look at him, you realized that he looked relatively...normal.  And for some reason, that thought alone made you sick.  

He was about your age - maybe a bit older - in a school uniform you didn’t recognize.  His hair was dark, pulled back and pushed behind his ears.  His chin was dusted with facial hair and his eyes were darting between you and Bakugou.  He had been standing by the cross walk and tried to pretend to be shocked that Bakugou was even addressing him. 

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t pull that bull with me.”  Bakugou stepped around you, making his way towards him. “I saw you get off the train with us.  You made every turn we did.  Always stayed one step behind where you thought we couldn’t see you.”

The kid only got a word out before Bakugou gripped him by his shirt and slammed him up against the wall of the neighboring house.  “Please!” The kid yelled.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Bakugou!”  Your legs finally remembered they could move.  You bolted over to where he was standing, looking between the two of them.  “Bakugou maybe it isn’t him!  Maybe he-”

“Show us your phone then if you don’t have anything to hide!”  He lifted him up and slammed him back against the bricks.

“I don’t have to show you anything, you fucking lunatic!”

You don’t think you had ever seen him on this street.  You don’t think you had seen him ever but-

“HEY!”  The boy tried to stop Bakugou from reaching into his pocket.  But it was no use.

You caught it was ease, “Try the day of the sports festival for the password.”  Was all he said.

This was fucking insane.  What if this kid wasn’t the stalker?  What if he was just some random guy who was meeting a friend.  You looked back and forth between the two of them - Bakugou, hair wild and death in his eyes, and this guy who looked down at him with fear and...

...oh...

You swiped up, entering the date as instructed.

It unlocked.

And you were met with a pretty lain layout.  Some photo editing apps, Youtube, a few games, and...

Texting and Calling apps.  Your blood ran cold as you opened the first one up.  Texts apon texts, all to the same unlisted number.  Your unlisted number.  You went to the photo gallery and there they were.  The pictures of your house.  Some of them were zoomed in and cropped to only show you.  You wanted to be sick.  You wanted to-

“I can explain!”  

“What the fuck,” You breathed, scrolling through the pictures.  Not just of your house, but of you - walking home from school, of hanging out with your friends, of you shopping.  And that’s when you saw the edited versions.

Fuck.  Oh Shit Fuck. 

“I was only trying to help you!!”  He cried, scratching at Bakugou’s wrist, making his skin bleed.  “I only want what’s best for us!”

“I think I’m going to be sick.”  You covered your mouth, trying to think of what to do next.  Should you call the police?  Your parents!?  What do you do now?

His eyes fell on Bakugou, practically snarling.  “I knew he would do something like this!!  I knew he would try to make me look like some psycho, but I’m not.  I know how he would treat you!  He’s a rabid fucking dog, a mongrel!  I couldn’t let him treat you the same way!  I couldn’t!  I’m just trying to protect you!  But you wouldn’t fucking listen!!  So I thought if maybe you and I could talk you would understand!  You would see what I’m-”

“ARGH!”

Your body tensed as the smell of burnt stone and ash filled the air.  You looked up and half expected his head to be blown clean off.  But it was still attached, only now he looked terrified as he stared down at Bakugou.  You followed his gaze, saw the look of pure, unadulterated rage.  His hand had connected to the wall beside the man’s head, smoke dancing up and around them.  And he was shaking.  Oh, god, how hard Bakugou was shaking.

He spoke low, deep in his chest.  “Listen close, you freak.  You’re going to leave her alone from this point forward - you got that?  If I find out you’re even thinking about her, I’ll kill you myself!!”

The world fell silent.  No one said a word until.  Your stalker was crying now, shaking as he nodded, quickly, mumbling apology after apology.  You couldn’t find the words to say, but your heart.  God, your heart was beating so hard in your chest as you stared at Bakugou.  He...he was...

Oh.

The window in the house behind you slid open.  An older man leaned out the window, his wife nervously peering over his shoulder.  The looked to the source of the commotion before standing up straight, fumbling as the smoke continued to rise from the spot Bakugou...well...destroyed.  “Hey!!  If you don’t get off my property, I’m calling the cops!”

...the police.  

...

The police.

Oh god, you had his phone.  You could prove he had been stalking you!!!  You perked up, smiling for the first time in weeks, “Yes!  Yes, please, call the police!”

The man stared at you, confusion on his face. “....what?”

The weight of the situation only grew heavier when the police searched the contents of the guy’s backpack. 

Rope.  A knife.  Some cloth.  A box of condoms.  And a jar of a clear, sickly sweet smelling liquid.  You heard one of the officers say what it was, though you were sure you weren’t supposed to hear.  But you did, and so did your parents.  Your mom nearly broke down for the third time that evening as your father swore under his breath.  

Homemade chloroform.

His name was Eito Moto - a second year at another High School near your home.  You would find out later that the stalking had started long before the Sports Festival - ever since he started working at the coffee shop you and your mom would go to every Sunday for breakfast.  Your neighbors, the ones who actually called the police, had seen him hanging around sometimes but didn’t think much off it.  

They thought he had just been a fan.  

They decided not to press charges against Bakugou for putting a hole in their fence.  “Given the circumstances,”  The man said, “I think I would have done the same thing.”

You had to go to the police station to file a report and request a restraining order.  It took well into the morning hours, where you mainly spent your time talking to different police officers, retelling the same story, going over evidence, assuring them you didn’t know this guy so you had no clue why he thought you two had been dating for months.  

They sent Bakugou home, your parents offering him their thanks and promises they would find a better, proper way to think him for essentially saving your life.  

By the time you fell into a crumpled heap on your bed, it was 2 in the morning.  It had been so long since you felt...okay.  Your stalker was in police custody for now, you could at least rest easy tonight.  You gripped your pillows, tugging them up and over your head to block out what meager light filtered in through the hallway.  No more late night calls.  No more insistent texts telling you what a no good whore you were.  You were okay.  

Everything was going to be okay. 

Bzzzz.

...oh no.  Oh no.  Oh no.

You peeked out from under your pillow, trying to calm your racing heart.  It couldn’t be him, you thought.  He was in jail, so they wouldn’t let him call you - right?  They wouldn’t let him do that, even if they did give him one call.  With shaking fingers, you reached out and plucked your phone from your end table.

Bakugou is calling!

Oh....oh thank god.

You couldn’t press accept fast enough.  You sighed, resting back against your pillows.  “Hey.”

“Is that bastard in jail?”

A laugh, a good honest laugh.  “Yeah.  Yeah, he’s in jail.  Dad and mom are gonna to talk to a lawyer tomorrow about our options.”

“Did you get a restraining order?”

You nodded.  “Yeah.  That’s what took so long and why we have to go to court.  They gave me an emergency one so...”  You blew out a puff of air, watching as a lock of your hair jumped up and fell back into place.  “At least there’s that.”

“You should have talked to me about this sooner.”  It was softer than you anticipated, less of a bite than he normally had.

You knew you should have.  You should have told someone but...it felt so...pointless?  Like it wouldn’t have mattered.  But, you had to give credit where credit was due.  “I wish I would have.”

He didn’t respond.  You had expected he would have started yelling at you, about hiding it from everyone.  Chastised you for being so stupid and letting it go on for as long as it had.  But no, he stayed quiet.  You could imagine him laying in bed, staring up at his ceiling, and wondered what he was thinking about.  What he wanted to say.  

You rolled over onto your side.  “Hey, Bakugou?”

“What.”

“Thank you.”

There was a long pause before he let out a soft noise.

“Don’t be stupid.  I was only doing what I had to do.”

Stalkers are fucking scary, yah know.  I had to listen to some voicemails left by stalkers to get the vibe down right - and I still don’t think Eito sounded perfect but hey.  At least one blessing in that:  I’ve never been stalked.  

[zevlors-tail]

Rooftops

Pairing: ProHero!Deku x Reader

Description: Sometimes being a Hero isn’t just fighting villains and rescuing people from burning buildings; sometimes it’s battling demons and rescuing people from themselves instead.

Warnings: Suicidal reader, thoughts of suicide, attempted suicide? (reader doesn’t succeed), trauma bonding, mentions of bullying, little bit of touch starvation? Talks of therapy, decision to try therapy.

A/N: I guess you could say I needed to vent some heavy things. PLEASE do not read this if you are triggered by anything mentioned above. Also, I HC that Midoriya never would have gone through with it, but he might have at one point been in the reader’s position, and I wish they would expand on how what Katsuki said and did to him in middle school affected his life more. I will never be satisfied until we get a proper apology from Bakugou and the two of them sort out their feelings about it, bc you KNOW that had to create some trauma. So I guess this might be sort of a fix-it fic? Also, I’m sorry for the ending, it might be cringe, idk. I can’t help but add fluff to everything I write, apparently. I love Best Boi, what can I say?

You breathed in the cool night air as you leaned against the railing, fingers trembling slightly against the rusty metal. Everything seemed so surreal; the noisy traffic below, the people bustling down streets and alleyways, the dimmed apartment lights from the building across... What did any of it matter? In the grand scheme of things, you were just a small spec of the universe observing all these phenomenons, a waste of space taking up time that could belong to something or someone more useful than your sorry excuse of an existence. That’s what you thought, at least.

You leaned a little farther over and rested your chest against the bars of steel. Would anyone miss you if you were to just...disappear? If you dropped everything and left right now, would anyone care? Would anyone cry for your absence? These were questions you had asked yourself over and over again, and each time you had managed to convince yourself that maybe, just maybe, the answer was yes, someone would care. But each time the questions rolled around in your head, it got harder to convince yourself of that. You found doubts in every corner of your mind, in every crack and crevice of your brain that they could slink into. Quiet at first, but now as loud as a siren, they overwhelmed you and made you believe you were worthless. They beat you down, exhausted you, claimed your once happy spirit and soiled it with numbness and apathy. Those doubts were the reason you wholeheartedly believed that you no longer mattered to anyone.

They were also the reason you were twenty stories up in the air on the roof of your apartment building.

Steeling your nerves and taking a deep breath, you let everything sink in. This was what you were waiting for all these years. All of your life had lead up to this single moment; all of your past mistakes, all of your life decisions, all of the lost friends, your job, your family and their snide remarks, your short comings...and all the rest. It didn’t matter. Every time you blinked, every sneeze, every laugh, whether genuine or fake, didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, including you.

Nothing matters, and no one cares.

And with that final thought, you hoisted yourself up and over the railing, limbs heavy with a dull numbness as you planted your feet loosely on the other side. For a second you balanced yourself, arms outstretched behind you to grip on to the bars for one last fleeting sense of security. Just one more step. But even as you moved forward, you found that your hands seemed to tighten their grip on the steel, and suddenly you felt physical panic despite your mind telling you that this was what you really wanted. It seemed your body was defying your mind.

“I don’t think you want to do that.”

Startled, you stumbled back and tightened your hold on the rails until your knuckles turned white. Were you imagining things, or did you just hear a voice? And if so, who was it and what were they doing all the way up here? Whatever their business was though, it surely had nothing to do with you, right? So why were they meddling in your affairs when you just wanted to be left alone? The thought of it was just a little too much, and you found yourself snapping at whoever was behind you.

“Uh, yeah, I think I do.” It came out more spiteful than you meant it to sound. But then, that was just how you were these days...bitter and cold. All the more reason to end everything.

“Please, just come back over here to the other side of the railing. We can talk if you want, or I can just sit with you, or we can listen to music together if that would help?” The stranger’s voice was gentle and pleading, as if he was afraid to break you if he spoke too loud. 

“Just leave me alone! Why do you care anyway?” You stole a glance behind you to get a good look at the person trying to talk you down. The first thing you noticed was the green hair, and then the pair of concerned emerald eyes reflecting back at you. Under those were a set of freckles, giving him an overall boyish look, and finally- his costume. You recognized Japan’s Number One Hero, Deku.

“Because I don’t want to see you get hurt...or worse.” His tone was solemn. “I’m sorry, but I can’t just leave you alone up here. Clearly you had one purpose for coming up here, and I’m not going to let you go through with it.”

For a moment, you felt your heart soar at the possibility that someone cared after all. But just as hope was about to take root and bloom within your chest, it seemed that your mind had other ideas to cut the poor blossom out. As fast as the feeling settled, it was gone, and you reminded yourself that this was his job; he was required to help anyone who he thought might be in trouble. It wasn’t like he really wanted to be up here talking to you.

“What the hell do you know about why I’m up here? And anyways...it’s your job to save people. You don’t have to pretend to care about me. It doesn’t matter if you’re the number one hero or not, you’re still going to forget about me some day or another. A week from now you won’t even think twice about me. I’m forgettable. I don’t matter...not really. So please just leave me be. You’re bothering me.” No matter how hard you tried to keep the anger in your voice, you couldn’t help how it faded with each passing second. It was tiring to keep feeling everything and nothing all at once. You wanted it all to just stop.

There was long moment of silence that passed between the two of you, which you took as a sign that you had been right about everything you had just said. Your anxieties and nerves were starting to get to you by then; you were about to really go through with it and had inched forward slightly when he decided to speak again. 

“Once, someone told me to take a swan dive off the roof of my old school.” Your breath hitched as you stopped in your tracks. “I know what it’s like not to be wanted or needed by everyone around you. To feel like a failure, like there’s no hope left... Like you’re not worth saving. But even if you really think and believe all those things you said about yourself, just know that I care. And it’s not because it’s my job to, or because I’m a Pro Hero, or because I just happened to be in the area and saw you up here after my shift ended. It’s because at one point in my life, I could relate to where you are now.”

You were left without words for once as you stood there, wind whipping through your hair and eyes focused on nothing in particular. After the initial shock wore off, you finally turned around to face him. You searched his eyes for any trace of deception, anything to prove that maybe he was lying or just trying to get to you, but all you could find was sincere honesty. And Deku, upon seeing you turn around from the edge of the building, seemed to tense for a second before continuing.

“I climbed up to the top of the school roof that day and when I got up there, I just...stared down. All I could think about at the time was making the pain and the numbness go away. But then I thought of my mom’s face when she would hear the news...and I thought of how I would only be a statistic after that- a number, you know, like the ones I recorded every day in my notebook. But I didn’t want that. I had a name that I loved, a mother waiting for me at home, and a dream I was still holding on to. I realized what I really wanted was to prove everyone wrong, to still become the hero I wanted to be as a little boy. And even more than that, I just wanted the pain to stop. I think that’s what people truly want- just to feel better.” He gave you a small smile and offered a hand to you after that, and you swore his eyes were glistening a little if you looked close enough. “I would care if you were gone. I would think about it every day. I don’t even know your name, but your face is already engraved in my mind. I would have made the biggest mistake of my life had I ended things that day; look at where I am now! If I let someone else take away all their future opportunities and potential life experiences knowing that I could have stopped them, knowing that I didn’t offer them the support I desperately wanted when I was going through it, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

“...you mean that?” You couldn’t help the tremble in your voice.

“Every word. Please, just come back over to this side and talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours. I promise I’ll do my best to help however I can.”

Something pulled at your heartstrings as you listened to him. He had put into words everything you had been feeling these past few months, everything you wanted to express but just couldn’t. Tentatively, you reached out a hand to meet his, and he wasted no time as he wrapped his other arm around your waist and hoisted you back over the railing towards safety and into his arms.

“Oh thank god,” he breathed out. His arm was still wound tight around your waist as he pulled you flush to him and walked you backwards. When the two of you reached the wall of the entryway to the rooftop, he stopped and slid down to the floor with you, a heavy sigh of relief escaping his lips. “Please don’t ever scare me like that again.” You blinked back tears as you leaned into Deku’s tight hug, your arms coming up to wrap around him as well. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so loving and caring with you or the last time you had been hugged like this. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m here.”

That was all it took for the dam inside of you to burst.

Hot tears finally spilled over and soaked Deku’s costume as all the emotions you had been suppressing came back full force. You hid your face in his shirt to try and stifle your cries as much as you could, but it was no use. There was no hiding the turmoil in your soul; all you could do was endure the sadness and frustration while he held you and comforted you. Slowly the reality of the situation started to sink in, and the realization that you almost took your own life hit you full force.

“I...I almost-!” You didn’t have the strength to finish your sentence as you sobbed harder and shook in the hero’s arms. He eventually shifted the two of you around to a more comfortable position and rubbed circles on your shoulder soothingly while you cried, a look of understanding and empathy in his eyes.

“But you didn’t. And you know what that tells me? That despite all those lies you’re telling yourself, there’s still a part of you left that wants to live. There’s still a part of you, no matter how small, that’s holding on to hope that things will get better. Find that feeling deep down inside you, grasp it, and never let go of it. You deserve to exist here. You deserve to be loved. You deserve to wake up each day and live and enjoy life. And I know you probably don’t feel that way right now, but believe me when I say that it’s the truth.” A comfortable silence settled between the two of you as you took a moment to contemplate his words.

“You said we could talk if I wanted to...” you sniffled.

“Sure, we can talk. It doesn’t even have to be about anything in particular. Whatever you want to talk about, I’ll listen.”

So you told him everything. You poured your heart out to someone who was no more than a stranger to you, even if you recognized his face because it was plastered on every poster and broadcasted on every T.V. Even if you knew who Deku was, the person behind the mask was someone else entirely, and it brought a sense of comfort to you to know that a real person was listening to your troubles and caring about them. For once, someone was taking the time to make you a priority, and that was not something you were used to.

“I’m sorry, you’re probably tired of listening to me by now. I can’t believe I dumped all of that on y-” you tried to apologize, but he shook his head and cut you off before you could finish.

“Don’t be. I offered, didn’t I? I genuinely want to hear about what’s troubling you. Everyone deserves to be listened to, especially when they’re hurting. You’re important, and what you have to say is also important. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”

You blinked up at him with wide eyes. How was he so good at this? A thought crossed your mind then, and you wondered for a brief moment if...had anyone ever listened to him? He had taken the time to calm you down and make you feel important by listening wholeheartedly to everything you had to say. The least you could do was return the favor, right?

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a really good listener?” you asked, a small but sincere smile on your face.

“Yes, actually. Plenty of times, but I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing it. It just means I’m succeeding at making others feel important, which is what I aim to do, so thank you for that.” He stared up at the night sky, his eyes reflecting the sparkling stars above. They were...so full of life. You found that fact inspiring.

There was a small pause before you asked him another question, hesitance evident in your voice. “Have you...told anyone? About what you said to me earlier, I mean.” It came out more awkward than you intended it to, and he seemed confused about what you were trying to ask.

“About what I said to you earlier?”

“Y-You know, the...rooftop...” you trailed off, not wanting to pry if he didn’t want to talk about it after all. “I’m so sorry, I just assumed since you mentioned it earlier that maybe you wanted to talk about it or something- Ah, I’m making things worse, I’m really sorry!” You ran your hands through your hair, anxiety getting the better of you and making your heart race. Deku shifted slightly beside you but kept his arm around your shoulders, a look of understanding coming over him.

“Oh, that?” He gave a small airy laugh. “While I appreciate the concern, I have a really great therapist. It’s kind of a requirement for Pros; we deal with a lot on the job.”

“...oh.” Oh. Oh. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but certainly not...that. “Again, I’m sorry if I pried,” you apologized one last time. At the sound of your third ‘I’m sorry’, Deku looked over at you thoughtfully.

“You know, I used to apologize a lot too. Actually, my therapist was the one who got me to kick the bad habit. Speaking of which...” He reached into one of the red pouches on his costume belt and produced a single card between his index and middle finger, the lamination of it emitting a dim glare as he held it out to you. “I think you could really benefit from therapy. I’m not saying that to be rude or anything-!” His face flushed as he tried to explain himself; he didn’t want you to feel like he was dismissing you or that he wasn’t concerned with your issues. “I swear! I just...really think you could use another person in your corner right now. They’re super nice, I promise! I’ll even help you set up an appointment if you want.”

You shrunk a little at the idea of seeing a therapist, but took the card anyway. The writing on the little piece of plastic stared back at you menacingly, an uncomfortable feeling settling in your gut.

Dr. T/N T/L/N Deku Agency Specialist in Psychology Phone: 800-888-8880 Email (Mon-Fri): T/nT/l/n@deku.agencies.com Office Hours: Mon-Sat, 9am-5pm

As if he could read your turbulent mind, Deku pulled you closer and rested his head against yours. “I know talking to someone else about your problems seems scary at first, but it really helps. If you keep everything bottled up, then those feelings and problems don’t have anywhere to go, and they’ll eat you up on the inside. Therapy gives you a safe way of letting those feelings out and sorting through problems in healthy ways. Of course it’s ultimately your choice, and everybody’s experience differs...but it did help me.”

You considered everything he said, including his offer to help schedule an appointment. If nothing else, you could really use another friend... You pocketed the card and decided to worry about it later; exhaustion was starting to settle in by now, and the air only seemed to get colder by the minute. It had to be past midnight by now.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done. It means a lot to me, truly. I’ll...think about the therapist.” 

“I’m glad to hear that. But in the mean time, can I see your phone?” The question caught you off guard and forced you back to the reality of where you were, and what you’d planned to do earlier.

“Uh, well...” you started, “I left it in my apartment. I didn’t think I’d need it up here since... Anyway, I don’t have it on me.” You stared off to the side, not wanting to talk about the subject any longer.

“Do you live around here?”

“Yeah, actually, I live in this apartment building.”

“Oh! Then, I’ll walk with you back to your apartment, since it’s getting kind of cold now. But first...” He whipped out his own phone, opening the contacts app and clicking on the ‘Create New Contact’ option. “What’s your phone number?”

“My phone number?” You stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Yeah, so I can text you and call you. I’d like to be friends, if that’s okay?” He gave you a shy smile with a faint blush, and it was hard not to burst into tears again.

A friend. You had made a new friend. One that cared about you, that wanted to make sure you were okay, that would put in time and effort to talk to you and see you. You could hardly believe it.

“Really?”

“Of course! Sooo, can I have it, then? Oh, and I guess I’ll need your name at some point too, huh?” he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

“It’s Y/N,” you stated happily.

You immediately gave your number to him, and then the two of you stood to go back inside. He helped you up and held the door open for you, and from there you took the stairs back to your apartment. You made small talk on the way back, and things finally started to feel normal to you for once. But as soon as you turned down the hall that led to your apartment door, you started to feel it; that familiar sinking feeling was creeping in, apathy and the sense of nothingness overwhelming you again. The night was finally coming to an end. You would go back to your apartment, and things would go back to normal, and Deku would probably forget that you even existed. He said he would text, but would he really? He was so busy with hero work, and you half expected things to go back to the way they would be. What if nothing changed? What if you went back to feeling numb? What if everything that happened tonight didn’t really matter? What would you do?

“Whoah, Y/N, slow down. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

Huh? Shit! Had you said all that out loud?

You panicked as you stared at your door. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

“Hey, look at me.” He cupped your face between his hands, tilting your head up to meet his concerned gaze. “Everything will be okay. But these kinds of problems don’t just disappear over night, they need time, and sometimes some outside help from others. I promise to keep in touch with you. I want to make sure you’re okay, and I’d like to get to know you better too. Maybe I can introduce you to my friends? They’re really great people, and they would make you feel right at home. But for now, let’s just focus on one thing, okay? Let’s get you settled back into your apartment for the night.” He ruffled the top of your head softly, and while others might have taken the gesture as offensive or belittling, you were just glad to have felt his warm touch.

“Okay,” you agreed quietly, and you twisted the handle to the door, which you remembered you had left unlocked.

The small apartment greeted you with familiar darkness, that is, until Deku flipped your light switch and the few lamps you had lit up the living room. He let himself in and shut the door behind the two of you, earning a surprised look from you and giving you an apologetic look of his own. “I don’t mean to intrude...I just...” He looked like he was choking over his own words. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to let you be alone right now...but if you want me to leave, then-”

“I don’t want to be alone either,” you were quick to cut him off. You had wanted to invite him to stay, but you also didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. However, it seemed like he beat you to the punch. “I don’t mind you staying. Besides, it’s late, and you look tired. The couch pulls out into a bed; let me get you some extra blankets.” 

You tried your best to be hospitable, even with him insisting that you didn’t need to and that he could just crash in the comfy clothes he wore under his costume. You didn’t have any extra clothes for him, but at least you could give him a pillow and a blanket. As you went to fetch those, you also grabbed your phone from your desk and dropped it next to him on the makeshift bed. He took the liberty of entering his phone number and his real name into your contacts before passing it back.

“No way, you like All Might too?” he asked as you handed him the themed blanket. “This is the same exact blanket I have at home!” A wide grin came over him as he cuddled into it.

His enthusiasm made you laugh a little as you tossed him the pillow. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.” You started to walk away to your bedroom, and as you were about to turn the lights out, he stopped you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Did you need something?”

He peeked his head over the edge of the couch. “I just realized I never gave you my name. You can call me Izuku, if you want. Since, we’re friends now, and all.”

“Izuku,” you echoed, “I’m really glad I met you.” And you meant it.

“Yeah, me too.” A moment of silence. “That I met you, I mean! I’m glad I met you too!”

You smiled and turned the lights out. “I’m gonna head to bed.” You hesitated a bit to ask him the question burning at the back of your mind, but your anxiety forced you to ask anyway, the fear of not knowing eating at you. “Will you still be here tomorrow morning?”

He answered you right away and gave you a reassuring look. “I’m off work tomorrow, and I don’t have any plans, so I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me to.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Izuku.” 

“Sweet dreams, Y/N.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding for so long, and with that, you made your way to your bedroom and changed into your favorite pajamas. The card that Izuku had given you earlier dropped to the floor while you were changing, and you picked it up carefully before reading it over again. Maybe...it was worth a shot. You had a lot you were dealing with, and the idea that you could talk to someone about it without being judged or made fun of almost sounded too good to be true. Sure, you had Izuku now, but you knew realistically he wasn’t going to be around all the time. You were tired of feeling like you were always alone, tired of feeling everything and nothing all at once, tired in general. It was all so exhausting. And he had said the therapist was nice...

You crawled into bed with your phone and pulled the covers over yourself. The home screen lit up the room as you opened your contacts and scrolled, looking for one name in particular. You tapped on his name and the familiar conversation screen appeared, the little vertical line blinking at you repeatedly as you worked up the courage to type out your message. Finally, your fingers flew across the keys, and you hit send before you could think twice about it.

Y/N: I think I want to schedule an appointment with the therapist. Can you help? 1:34am

It didn’t take long for you to get a response.

Izuku: Of course. I can contact them tomorrow, if you’d like? 1:34am

Y/N: I’d like that a lot. Thank you, Izuku. 1:35am

Izuku: Are you alright? If you need anything, come get me. I won’t mind. 1:35am

Y/N: I really appreciate that. I’m doing a little better. I’ll let you know if I need something. 1:35am

Izuku: Promise? 1:35am

Y/N: I promise. 1:36am

[yoonpobs]

alone | pjm

pairing: park jimin x oc

genre: angst, hurt no comfort, unrequited love?

warnings: hints of mental illnesses

words: 1, 141

summary: you'll never be ready

"Why do you keep running?"

Jimin hasn't seen you in months except for the occasional phone call. He alluded it to school being extra demanding, or that you were just caught up in the throes of life.

But Jimin always wanted to help, to be there. It's just that you've never let him.

"What else can I do but run? Pretend that my life isn't falling to pieces? That every person I know ends up hurt or hurting someone? I'm collateral and I'm sorry if I don't solve my problems healthily like you do, Jimin." You snap.

Jimin's eyes soften, attempting to reach out to you but you're pulling away like you always have.

"I just want to be here for you ..." Jimin whispers.

You purse your lip to give him a glare so vehement that Jimin almost doesn't recognise you.

"You just want to feel like a hero picking up a lost cause like me. I don't need your help so stop looking at me like I'm some abandoned cat that needs a home!" You shove your fingers into his chest.

Jimin's eyes widen but he grasps your wrist, looking at you with a desperate expression on his face.

You're breathing heavily and you hate that Jimin looks so put-together. A clean cardigan with expensive jeans and hair styled perfectly because Jimin was annoying, pretentious and always-in-your-business but never unprepared.

It's a stark difference to the fact that you've lost the energy to care about anything. You want to care about yourself and to a certain extent, you do. You know you couldn't be the saviour of your family when your parents argued about money. And you couldn't be your brother's therapist to deal with his anger issues—but you couldn't be anyone for yourself if you've lost all hope.

"Can you please calm down for a second and listen to me?" Jimin exasperates.

Your eyes narrow at him and you feel tired already. You haven't slept and you didn't expect Jimin to turn up at your dingy apartment to see if you were alive or not.

"So you can tell me how I'm throwing my life away or making problems out of nothing? I don't need your blind optimism and I sure as hell don't need you acting like my fucking guardian."

Jimin still has a grip on your wrist that shows his stubbornness as he levels his eyes to your own, seeing the sullen depths of your irises that could only make him feel guiltier for nor being there for you.

"You can think of my presence as anything as you wish but that doesn't change the fact that I want to be here, ______. I've always been here and I've never once judged you for anything because that isn't my place to do so. All I want is to be in your life and all you're doing is pushing me away—"

"Why don't you think long and hard as to why I'm doing that, Jimin. It's because I know people like you—the perfect, has your shit together and goes for weekly therapy sessions because you've got the cash to spare and the time to go. You don't get to be here for me and berate me with your coping mechanisms when I've finally found peace in mine!" You yell at him, eyes drooping shut because you're so exhausted.

You're exhausted about worrying. You're exhausted about arguing with every person that you've spoken to. You're exhausted about waking up to be welcomed with a new bundle of problems that you have no idea how to go about.

You're exhausted because Jimin keeps trying to fix your problems for you.

"I'm not asking you to go to therapy or buy yourself an expensive meal to feel better!" He throws his hands into the air, "I'm asking you to let me be there for you."

You roll your eyes.

"Oh spare me your altruism, Jimin. Go save someone closer to your level." You hiss.

Jimin grits his teeth before caging you against the wall so you don't have anywhere to run. He knew you and knew the look on your face when you were about to flee the scene so he wouldn't be able to get another word in.

"If you keep waiting to be ready to deal with the world then I've got some bad news for you, kid. You'll never be," He whispers and you bite your lip to hold the tears in. You don't want to cry in front of Jimin because his presence is already making you feel so small, so worthless in comparison to the life he's built for himself.

"I just want to support you. If that means being the person you cry on, or just the person who's there—I want to be there but you're being stubborn and avoiding every form of confrontation I try to offer you when I try to talk about my—"

"And you think that'll change my mind, Jimin?" You say softly, energy drained, "You think telling me you love me will make me realise how much I need you in my life?"

The anger returns and it's tenfold. It's because Jimin thinks that he loves you—that he loves you enough to help you or deal with your hourly mental breakdowns or erratic behaviour. He thinks he loves you but he doesn't know a single damn thing about you.

"No _____ it's because I love you that I want to be in your life." He says.

"Then let me tell you something, Jimin," You shove him away from you, "You're right. I'll never be ready. But at least I'm aware. You think you're ready to be with me because you've convinced yourself that this is just a phase, right? I just need companionship and suddenly all my problems don't exist? Well, guess what? My problems existed before you came into my life and they're still very much here when I met you."

Jimin's face falls because you've turned your body against him and the only thing he sees is the hunch of your back.

"Why won't you let me in?" He whispers.

"I wasn't able to protect myself from life so I'm protecting you from me," You say simply.

"______—" He sighs, another hand reaching out.

The glimmer of his rings just reminds you of how different the two of you were. That he was always safe despite any falls. That the world favoured the rich and the capitalistic structure was in the same hand that tried to reach out of you.

"Get out, Jimin. I don't want to see you ever again."

His eyes widen, but you don't turn around to look at him when you hear him splutter for a response.

You retreat to your room and don't even bother to shut the door.

[kojinnie]

tis is ranon! i wanna try the twisted match-up eventho it'll probably hurts. my worst traits would be

1. Not knowing myself well enough, having to ask others how i actually am from their eyes instead of looking through my own lense because I care of other's judgement better than mine.

2. I suck at handling compliment. Everytime anybody says anything good about me, I always get defensive by saying no, change the topic of the conversation, or saying "thank you, but [insert why i don't deserve compliment]"

3. Similar to the 2nd one, I have horrible horrible self esteem. I never really look at myself in a good light, I think I am horrible. Sometimes I feel like "im the worst" yet some of the times I feel like "woah I'm a queen". Even worse, sometimes I don't have the motivation to better myself in order to raise my self esteem.

My favourite(s) would be reiner and jean, you can choose the one with the worst(or whoever you prefer) compatibility with my traits. tears up already as I slip 1 dollar to your hand, whispering happy ending please..

Pairing: Jean x Reader

Summary: You accidentally meet Jean, your high school sweetheart, thirteen years later. While he has turned into a successful man whose face you'd see on TV a lot, you think of your life and what could have been with him, if only...

Tags: Angst/Fluff, coming of age, slice of life

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: Oh Ranon my sweet child, hereby I present to thee... hopefully an antidote to the despair Yams had given us with 138. Hope you like it love!

Song mentioned: Linger by The Cranberries

"It's nice to see a familiar face 'round here."

There was no word that could describe the feelings you had upon hearing that voice. A voice that was once the first sound you hear in the morning and the one you say goodbye to before falling asleep. A voice that you had not heard for what felt like forever.

You didn't have to turn around to tell who it was, "Jean?"

The two of you erupted in laughter, both surprised by the mere coincidence of meeting each other at this old and ran-down department store, on the outskirt of the town you both grew up in.

Jean was quick to pull you into a big embrace that you gladly came into. A familiar piece of warmth was his hug, and yet it had struck you as odd that it did not feel foreign at the closest, although it had been years since the last time you met him.

Jean had grown very tall. There was no longer his signature undercut as he had let his hairs to grow past his ear. His chiseled jaw hid beneath dark brown beard he now had. You pretended to check him out and be shocked with the view, "You really grew! Like grew, GREW!" as if you hadn't seen him on the news station or the daily mail. As if you didn't follow his Instagram with your second account. As if you never thought of him at all.

He held your shoulder and pulled away to look at you, "Thirteen years and you don't look any different."

Your face grew hot and the compliment sent an uncanny discomfort to your guts, "Ah the lighting sucks here - to my advantage, fortunately."

There was a disapproving look in Jean's eyes for a passing moment before he carried on with the conversation. He didn't expect to see you at the old department store the two of you used to roam in after school, he said. Neither did you to ever meet him again, especially here. A place so awfully ordinary for someone who had grown to be the best version of himself. Jean had finally achieved his dream to be a household name in the country as one of the rising young attorneys.

The celebrity status he had achieved, all the actresses and models he had dated - it all inflicted you with some kind of inexplicable pain. One that made you feel worthless, to say the least. Someone who used to be so close to your heart, had grown so magnificently, leaving you with the painful fate of being ordinary. Yet, still your face lit up in distant pride each time a mention of Jean’s name surfaced, be it from the passing conversation your friend had, or to see it announced by the news anchor for some big public case he was working on.

Jean said that he returned home for a funeral. His uncle died, and he needed a spare sandal. He didn't know any other store, as the area both of you grew up in had changed a lot. Leaving this old department store the only place he could remember.

You passed your condolence but he was more curious with what you were up to. You chuckled because he seemed so serious when he asked, "Didn't you move out to the city? Why the hell are you coming back?" as if the misplacement of seeing someone so glitzy in this boring, dilapidated town didn't apply to him.

So you answered, and Jean turned silent for a moment. He tilted his head downward, and you noticed that he was the same person with the same mannerism. Although he was no longer the 17-year-old boy who used to get all ruffed up in school fight, trying to defend you from some stupid jocks; nor was he still the tall, lanky kid from your Home Economics class that you gave your first kiss to.

Your mind couldn’t help but to race to all the what-ifs, and the presence of Jean before your eyes right now only made the wonderings more palpable.

Jean smiled faintly to your answer, “Congratulations,” he still made his way to pat the side of your head, something he used to do every time, “big step, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s scary.”

“So, who’s the lucky guy? Anyone I know from school?” Jean said, faking the enthusiasm in his tone, but you didn’t notice. Because in your mind, it would be an absurd idea to think that you would still have the tiniest bit of effect on Jean, for he had outgrown all the memories he ever had with you.

“No, no,” you tried to mask the bitterness that suddenly emerged on the back of your tongue, “we met at work. He’s a great guy.”

Indeed, he was. The reason why you returned home was because you were getting married, and your fiancée wanted to be close with your family, for he didn’t have one growing up. He was an exceptional man, he had this magnetism in him, with the way he perceived things, to the abiding tenacity he had in him.

Your fiancée was a man you knew you could lean on in the eye of adversity. That’s why you agreed to marry him. But then again, there was always a void inside your heart that had no resolve to it for so many years. Your fiancée was your foundation, and yet, perhaps selfishly, you still yearned for the childish laughter and the irreplaceable feeling of freedom you once had with the man standing tall before you. Whose glance never failed to make you feel the most at ease with.

“He must be a pretty great guy to get you,” Jean’s faint smile grew into a grin, he was trying to down play the commotion he started to feel within his chest, “what’s his name? So, I can picture him.”

You laughed, because it was only natural for you to do so in the presence of the first guy you had fallen for, the first guy to ever told you how pretty you were and how all your imperfections never mattered to him, the first one to bring your teary face into his embrace after a gruesome day, before saying, ‘I never thought it’s possible. But, crazy, seeing you cry hurts me too.’

However, you knew, that all those memories had passed by and you were happy with where you were now. “Reiner,” you smiled at the mention of his name, “my fiancée’s name is Reiner Braun. He’s… amazing.”

“Wow. Tough name. Probably someone I’d stay clear from in high school.”

Both of you laughed, and the two of you continued to talk, as you walked him through the desolated alleys to find the sandal that he wanted to buy, and Jean walking you to the towel aisle that you had meant to buy one for Reiner, only to find out that they had stopped selling towels since long time ago. The laughter and reminiscing persisted until the cashier row when Jean heard your stomach grumble. Both of you exchanged glances and broke into yet another laughter.

“Salerno’s?” Jean said, suggesting the pizza place off the highway, where you had spent so many dates with him back then.

“How could I ever say no to that?”

“Settled, then. Did you drive here?” Jean’s eyes gazed afar to the parking lot, strangely looking for the old car you used to drive back in school, before realizing that thirteen years had passed and there was no chance that sickly car could ever survive the time.

“No, actually Reiner dropped me and—” As if staged by the universe, your phone rung and Reiner was calling, “—right in time, it’s him!”

You walked away from Jean for a moment as he looked for his car key inside jacket. Across the line, Reiner was gruntling, his voice was hazy, “Babe—”

“Reiner, I bumped into an old friend!” there was a sing-songy tone in your words. Through the phone, Reiner chuckled, picking up the excitement in your voice, even though it was getting more apparent that Reiner was drowsy, “Anyway babe, can you get an Uber? I took the cough syrup your mum gave me, and now I’m sleepy as fuck. ‘Fraid I won’t be able to drive.”

You turned to Jean and saw him jingling his car key at you, before returning back to Reiner on the phone, “Rei, I think my friend can drive me home. I’ll be stopping at Salerno’s, do you want anything? The calzone maybe?”

Reiner yawned, “That sounds nice but—” yet another yawn, “I’m gonna pass out. Come home soon, okay? Tuck me in.”

You cackled at the buff man whining before you said goodbye and followed Jean into his car.

The trip to Salerno’s was nourishing with memories. The poplar trees along the avenue had been replaced by lines of billboards – from advertisement of real estate agent to divorce attorney, they all reminded you of how much the town had changed. Yet the sense of comfort you shared with Jean as you joked about all of the absurd things you saw along the way, had not changed at all.

If for one second you forgot that you were driving in Jean’s expensive car, and that you imagined he was wearing a shabby soccer jersey instead of a tailored-fit shirt – if you closed your eyes and thought that thirteen years hadn’t gone by between the two of you, it almost felt like you rode a time machine to a time when Jean was yours and you were his. And something about the thought of it just broke your heart.

When Jean pulled over at Salerno’s and found out that it’s past the time for dine-in, the two of you decided to eat at his car instead. Jean didn’t even ask what you want and he returned with exactly what you had in mind, the classic calzone, something you always used to have. He remembered.

The two of you laughed, bantered and joked at each other. It felt almost as if no distance had ever been laid out between the two of you, like you hadn’t lived an entirely different life, like he was the same person after all. He hadn’t once made you self-conscious like you thought you would, considering the amount of success he had attained for himself. You felt bad for accusing Jean of the worst, when all it was just a projection of your own insecurity.

“So, you’re getting married on the 15th, and your annoying aunt is not invited?”

“Yeah, thank God for the pandemic somehow. Legit excuse, when all I wanted was not to have her talk shit about Reiner on my wedding day,” you munched through your calzone, talking mindlessly, “as for you, sir, you’re invited. That’s a no-brainer. Hereby I invite thee to my humble dwelling. Bring your model girlfriend, please, so I can brag to my cousins.”

His grin subsided into a weak smile and then into nothing at all, as he sipped on his coke. Suddenly awkward silence loomed within the small space of his car.

“Jean,” you shifted in your seat as the guilt grew on you, realizing the error in your judgment, “sorry I was being presumptuous.”

“No worries, it wasn’t serious. None of it ever was.”

You nodded, engulfed in your own guilt for bringing a bad topic up. The silence let the radio’s murmur to become noticeable, and an old song had just been played through the local radio, a tune that you used to listen with him on the back of your old creaking car after a make-out session filled with enraging teenage hormones.

And I’m in so deep~

You know I’m such a fool for you~

You got me wrapped around your finger I—

Do you have to let it linger?

You sighed and finally looked at Jean with his head hanging low, “Do you want to settle down someday?”

“Eventually.” Jean answered nonchalantly, “Not even sure about the whole relationship thingy.”

“Oh.” An acknowledgment you voiced, before succumbing to yet another silence.

Jean called your name softly and when you turned to face him, he was looking at you. Even in the darkness of the parking lot, you could see his honey eyes gleamed in a look that was so familiar to you—a look of disappointment, “Tell me, how could you never end up working where you’ve always wanted to be?”

You were pulled even deeper into your silence as you looked away. Suddenly a hot rash of sadness started to swallow you whole, “I—”

You tried to voice out a tangible reason, but you had realized that all of it was your own doing. Your insecurity, your self-consciousness, the thought that you were never good enough for the thing you once wanted so bad; all of it led to a life unlived, and to have someone finally putting you in your place was embarrassing, if not painful, “—wasn’t sure if I really wanted it and—”

“—wasn’t sure if I was good enough to pass the test.”

“So, after college, you never ended up applying there? Not even a try?”

You shook your head embarrassed, looking down at your shoes.

Jean sighed and laid his food on the dashboard, before reaching for your right hand and held it warmly into his grasp. He called your name which propelled you to look back at him, “Weren’t you the one who talked me into getting into law school? Even when I thought it was impossible? Weren’t you the one who wrote on my yearbook to-my-future-attorney when everyone was convinced that I’d end up working a mediocre office job? Or a mechanic in my Dad’s shop?”

Jean carried on, “I just… I just don’t understand. How could you have so much conviction for other people but—but yourself?”

You passed a grim smile, as vulnerability started to catch up with you, “Nevermind Jean, it’s passed. I am where I am now.”

“But, wasn’t it your dream?” Jean grew antsy on his seat, it was obvious that he truly didn’t understand, “The pages and pages and pages of diary you wrote about wanting to work there? What happened?”

You sighed, running out of words to say, until you caved in, “Maybe I never knew what I truly wanted.”

“Is that why?” Jean shot another look at you, there was an intensity in his eyes that you had never seen before. There you wondered what had happened to Jean’s life in all those years passed at your absence, had he led a difficult life before getting the success he was enjoying now? “Is that why you left me—because you didn’t know what you truly want?”

Jean understood the consequence of his action, he was a well-accomplished attorney after all. He also understood the vivid pain painted all over your face, but he was taking his shot. Years of wondering where had you gone, what kind of live had you lived – you never ceased to haunt him, all the what-ifs with you he always thought about whenever he broke off yet another meaningless relationship with yet another woman he’d never cared for in his life. Over the years, he’d taken a close look at you. He’d find you on the internet, he’d asked about you to friends of a friend that was still in touch with you, he’d ‘accidentally’ found your legal documents just to see that you had gotten your college degree one year earlier than him. He didn’t know why the thought of you lingered, you just did. Arriving into his dreams where he was seventeen again and unassuming, only for him to wake up disappointed at seeing a woman that wasn’t you in his bed.

For the longest time, Jean had fended for himself to be where he’s now. When survival had finally bore fruits, what else could there be for him? Still, he felt lonely in the embrace of another woman, still he felt the void persisted even if he spent his money on things he didn’t need. Jean never thought, that after years of dreaming to be the person he’s now, all he yearned for was to have a piece of simple, ordinary and innocent happiness he once had with you.

You were, after all, the only thing that could remind him of the innocence Jean had lost after years of grueling work as an attorney—seeing how corrupt and insidious men can be. So, when his wearied eyes landed on the sight of you this evening, in the alley of that long-forgotten Department Store, Jean had no choice but to finally face his haunting.

“Jean, it’s a long time ago,” you smile, cupping his hand with your free hand, “besides, I’m no longer your type, right?” A grin, a playful grin, painfully fabricated and Jean saw right through it.

You could feel the air had gotten thick in his car, and you shifted closer to the door. Jean let go of your hand as he moved closer to you, running his long fingers through your hair. His voice had gotten deep and you could sense a hint of pain in his words, “Maybe I never had a type.”

He dragged his gaze all over your face; your eyes, your nose, your lips – the way he used to reassure that you were so beautiful in his eyes despite the self-hate you inflicted upon yourself, “Maybe all I ever wanted was you and all I ever did with those girls was to try finding you in them,” he forced a smile, so stale, so painful, “to no avail.”

You could feel the air into your lung was compromised as you battled the tears, “Jean…”

“Out of so many things that I have been brave for, I was never brave enough for one thing that I needed the most: to tell you that it’s always been you,” Jean slithered his hands through your waist and pulled you into his embrace. He laid his head, heavy with loneliness and exhaustion on to the nook of your shoulder. For lack of better term, Jean was finally back home, as he muttered, letting go of all his inhibitions, “Baby, it’s always been you. It’s always been you.”

Your whole body was weak with emotions. The thoughts, the persistent ones – the what-ifs you could have had with Jean, the life you could have lived and the dream that could have been fulfilled. Without your permission, the tears fell to your dismay as you thought of one last thing remaining in your heart: Reiner. The way he smiled and listened all through your nightly despairs, caressing you close until you fell asleep, exhausted with tears dried up all over your face. The way Reiner whispered on to your ear, amidst your drowsiness, that he loved you and that he promised to make you whole, to fill the void you had always feared for. All the little things he had done without you asking, or the way he loved your family as if they were his own.

You cursed yourself for being surprised at how much you realized that you truly loved Reiner, even when you were in the embrace of someone you wondered about often. You realized, the best way to prove to someone that you love them was to stick around. And Reiner had stuck around, as much as you stuck around for him.

You left Jean long time ago for reasons you only vaguely remembered now, but life went on and sooner or later you should make it in your heart to accept it. You smiled and thought of your life. Sure, there was a lot of thing you need to patch up, but what is life if not persevering?

You pulled away from Jean, surprised to see a beaten look on his face. Far away from the dandy and sharp young attorney you would see on the news. Once, you loved this man, but years had passed and the one he wanted was no longer there. You were no longer the person you were thirteen years ago. You were no longer the girl Jean longed for, all he wished for was a passing ghost that you have left behind in your adolescence.

You caressed his cheek for the last time and landed a kiss to his forehead, “Jean, I’m so proud of you. How far you have gone. I’m sorry I wouldn’t be the one you’d share your future achievement with, but for all the things you have done to me, for seeing the good in me when I could hardly see it… I want to say thank you,” you smiled although pain was searing within your chest, “there’s a world out there where this would work out. But not this world.”

The unexpected rendezvous you had with the man whom you had given your first love to ended with both of you crying at each other’s embrace, until Salerno’s closed and turned off their lights.

When Jean finally dropped you at your childhood home, the place he used to spend all the times in, Jean smiled and pointed at your room with the lights still lit, “He’s waiting?”

“I think he’s asleep. He’s a deep sleeper, he forgets to turn off the lights every time.”

“Does he even fit in your tiny bed?”

“Well, you did fit.”

“For a time.”

“Yeah, for a time.”

“So, you’ll be Mrs. Braun?”

“Yep, Mrs. Braun I will be.”

Jean scoffed, pretending to be annoyed, but smiling nonetheless, “Lucky bastard, that Mr. Braun.”

[ffangirlingsince2001]

Nothing Alike: IV

Description: Geralt of Rivia has been tasked with taking out a fellow Witcher who has decided to settle down in a town. She has no intention of leaving and Geralt is forced to take matters into his own hands.

Geralt x Reader

Warnings: smut, angst, choking, language

Masterlist

He was shocked to find her still there the next morning, tangled up in his white sheets. She was on her stomach, face pressed into the pillow, snoring softly. She was surprisingly muscular for being someone so small. He fought to trace her spine. Despite the muscle he could see every vertebra, and he did his best to focus on nothing else. The scars reminded him of his own days at school, not something he preferred not to remember. Most of them weren’t deep, merely a reminder she would have to endure for her eternity. The rest of her was soft, even the scars were softer than his own. He would have to enjoy it while it lasted, because the moment she was awake she would return to rough and jagged. He watched her as she stretched, back arching like a cat in the noon-day sun. Through her early morning haze she glanced at him, tossing locks of hair behind her shoulder.

“G’morning,” she mumbled, propping herself up on her elbow as she rolled to face him. He offered her a small smile, a betrayal to himself. He enjoyed her sleepy too, it was when she was fully awake that he wanted to toss her across the room. She kissed his jaw before dropping back to the bed, resting her hand on her bare stomach. He trailed a finger down her arm, shocked when she jerked away, glaring at him.

It seemed she was awake once more.

She left the bed like a whirlwind, wrapping the sheet around her as she strode towards the window. She pressed her hands against the rotted window ledge, looking out of over the street.

He could still see the scars.

“So, where are we off to?”

“What do you mean we?”

“That was the deal, remember. I come with you and you leave your child surprise alone.” He had almost forgotten about that; about the deal he had so irrationally made as she stared at him across the table with murder in her eyes. That’s what had gotten her into bed with him in the first place, his orders.

“I had forgotten.” She turned around, biting her nail, a smile playing at her lips.

“Liar.” It was a bite, harsh and unforgiving. It was laced with a heavy iron chain, one of her own making, and one she was willing to bear in order to spare another. She claimed to be selfish, but it was clear that she was anything but.

“Come here,” he said, crooking his finger as he ushered her closer. She raised an eyebrow but drifted closer, allowing the sheets to slip from her arms and to the ground. He licked his lips and she blushed like the virgin damsel he knew she wasn’t. She knew, she knew fucking everything, and yet she acted as if she knew nothing.

That was when he hated her the most, not when she was soft, or jagged, but when she was acting. He just wanted her to be honest, to look at him and tell him how much she despised his very existence. He wanted her to scream, to insult him the same way she had when they had first met, and instead here she was pretending like she would obey every word he uttered.

He flinched as her knees pressed into the mattress. Her touch against his chest was soft, loving if it had been anyone else, but it made him wince. She pressed her lips to his sternum, painting a path towards his neck. He regretted his order as she swung a leg over his body, straddling his waist.

“Stop,” he ordered, pushing her off and onto the mattress beside him. “Stop, stop, stop.” She pulled away, as smug as could be. She knew everything, she had known everything her entire life, and she loved every minute of it. Without uttering a word, she climbed off and began to dress. Pants first and then she pulled out bandages he had never seen before. With the skill of someone who had done it a thousand times she wrapped her chest until it was tight and snug. She buttoned her shirt, tucked it in and tightened her belt. The only thing that reminded him she had been naked moments before was her boots, laying beside his. She climbed into bed beside him and he shifted, the discomfort had only grown now that she was dressed, and he was not.

“Get dressed huh?”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean if you’re not going to fuck me, we might as well get on with it, I’m paying for the room after all.”

“I thought I was giving orders.”

“And I thought you were too pussy to give them.” He growled and flipped over her, pinning her against the mattress. She struggled and he breathed a sigh of relief. This was her; the struggle was her. She glared at him, pushing and pulling at his grasp.

“Get off,” she growled, head thrashing.

“No, I want you listen.”

“You don’t have anything worth listening to.”

“No, if you’re going to be tailing me before I decide to kill you, there are a few rules you need to learn.”

“I’d like to see you try.” Geralt growled, shifting both her wrists to one of his hand. With the other hand he dragged it towards her throat, fingertips feeling the bumps in the mattress and strands of hair as they went. She struggled until his fingers closed around her throat.

“Y/N, I could do it right here, end your traitorous life right now,” he snarled, his fingers tightening. She coughed, arching her back, bucking her hips as she tried to free herself. “I could do it without a second thought, snap your worthless neck and go about my day.” She was practically unrestrainable now, twisting and turning like a wild cat trapped in a snare. “So, don’t test me, little girl.” He held it a moment longer and then relaxed. Her body snapped like a rubber band, falling to nothing as she struggled to regain her breath.

“Fuck you,” she managed to rasp through her breaths.

“You already did,” He climbed off her and began to dress, leaving her panting on the bed. She was right, because of course she was. The rush of not giving a fuck what the rest of the world thinks about his actions, well it was almost better than the feeling of her beneath him. When he turned around, pulling his shirt on in the process she was lacing her boots with rageful vigor, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye every time she messed up. He could see bruises forming in the shape of his fingers. She leaned back, fingers tracing the bruises as she stared at wall.

He stared back, daring her to say anything more, to test him one more time. That was really all he wanted, a fight that he knew he could win. She was the first person he had ever met who let him throw her around and fought back without fear in her eyes. He had searched for it in playfights with friends, real fights with enemies, even sex with whores, but no one had ever looked him in the eyes, struggling as their body went limp, without an ounce of fear. Yet, she had. She had looked him dead in the eyes, dared him to continue, and never shown an ounce of fear.

But now, now she wouldn’t even look at him. Her eyes were closed, eyelashes fluttering every time she touched a particularly tender spot. He watched her as he pulled on his boots. She was still herself, strong and fierce, but she wouldn’t look at him.

She wouldn’t fucking look at him. He thought about ordering her, demanding that she look at him, but the thought of her biting back moved his hand forward. He had assumed his hand would be harsh, angry, but it was soft. He gently lifted her chin and her eyes fluttered open.

“Look at me,” he muttered enjoying the sight of gold reflecting gold. She didn’t bite back, didn’t pull away just stared back at him, eyes wide and full of light that no one, not even he could choke out.

“I am,” she replied softly, and he chuckled, pulling his hand away before offering it to her. She took it and he helped her stand. When she smiled at it him it was completely genuine, not an ounce of hurt. It would have been impossible for anyone else to even know that he had almost killed her before, had the bruises not been so glaringly obvious. “So where are we off to?”

“I’m not sure.”

“So… just wandering the countryside then?”

“For now?”

“I’m not sure how profitable that is, but I’m all yours.” He hated it when she said that. It was always and would always be a lie.

“Anything to protect the child?”

“Anything and everything.” He laughed again before stepping away and holding open the door for her. She raised an eyebrow at the chivalry before picking up her own weapons and stepping into the hallway.

People stared as she walked through the bar. They stared at the pair of them and the bruises on her neck, whispering to one another as she strolled by. She didn’t care, he wasn’t sure if she had ever cared about anything. That was something he would have to ask her about: if she cared about anything.

The sun was rich against his skin, soft, warm, and golden. It was just like her eyes, perhaps even a little colder. It dulled in comparison, faltering even further when she turned to smile at him.

“Don’t look, but there’s a man here to kill me,” she muttered behind a bright smile. His head shot up and she rolled her eyes. “I said not to look.”

She wasn’t wrong, of course. Another man was standing down the road, staring at them with confusion and anger. And then he noted the bruises, fingers clenching around the handle of his sword.

“She has to die, White Witcher,” he called over the bustle of the street. Y/N glanced at him with a smile.

“I see you know each other.”

“Everyone knows me.”

“Awfully arrogant, aren’t you?”

“Only when people threaten my keep.” She scoffed at him and drew her sword.

“I think you forget, my lord, I am no one’s keep.” And then she stepped forward brandishing her sword in the sunlight. Quickly he grabbed her, pulling her back beneath the crook of his arm. She struggled, eyes narrowing.

“I know.”

“Then let me go.”

“I can’t do that, you’ve stolen his money, of course he wants to kill you.”

“Then let him try.”

“You just like the rush.”

“Maybe a little,” she smirked and he rolled his eyes leading her towards Roach. He pulled her on after he had mounted and quick as a whip they rode past the angry man and into the countryside she had slandered only minutes earlier.

What on earth had he gotten himself into?

[stray-kids-react]

Polaroid

Han x Fem. Reader Soulmate au

Warnings - Swearing, mentions of sex, and Fluff that'll make you cry.

Masterlist

...

Y/n's pov, November 27 2020

My mother once told me that I will know when I'm in love, she never specified what hints will cross my path... She just said I'll know.

As a young adult now, sharing an apartment with my close friend Yeji. I'm starting to become impatient with this whole game of love, why can't I just get told who is my perfect match. I'm so tired of having my hopes risen up and then crashed down onto my heart... Breaking it each time.

"Any plans today?" Yeji asked from the kitchen, making me cringe at the word plans.

I just was still recovering from a terrible break up, where I caught the supposedly love of my life slurping the life out of his assistants pussy. I won't forget the feeling of my heart completely stopping for a few seconds, as my mind told me to run and not look back.

"Yes actually, I have a date with Netflix and the leftovers in the fridge." I replied, slyly smirking as she stared at me like a worried mother.

"Well Netflix isn't going to have to wait for his turn. Because I have this guy who is really interested you and is a total sweetheart." She sighed, showing me a photo of the guy she was trying to set me up with.

"Yeah... No." I replied, beginning to retreat back to my room.

"Y/n! JISUNG TOLD ME!" Yeji announced, catching my attention from the front of my bedroom door.

"I-it's still a no Yeji." I whimpered, shutting the door harshly behind me as she sighed in defeat.

Yeji's pov

She needs to get out of this place, it's been two weeks now. All over a guy she barely even knew, I know the true reason she is hiding and she will never admit it.

Y/n is scared to see his face again, our best friend Han Jisung. The best friend that she happened to fall in love with, and moved away from after she got accepted into the university of her dreams.

They were never just best friends in anyone's eyes, not even there own. Yet they both tried to fill in the whole in their heart with other people, never realizing that all they had to do was just say three difficult words.

Y/n was in a hurry to find her perfect partner after I found mine, the man next door with the matching tattoo on his wrist. Your tattoo shows up when you are over the age of 19 and are near your soulmate, it shows up on your wrist, neck, or shoulder blade.

She didn't want to see Jisung in case that tattoo never came, they both wouldn't be able to handle the realization. But it is a part of life, and I'm not going to let my best friends live alone when they could have a chance to be in love and happy.

Han wanted to see us both while he was visiting the city, even though he knew the risk of utter devastation. That fake profile was just a set up so that she would finally meet up with Han, and she probably already knew about my plans.

I walked up to her door cautiously, gently brushing my knuckles against her door.

"Y/n... I know why you are actually upset."

Y/n pov

"Because of Han Jisung." I answered, brushing past the old childhood photos saved on my phone.

"I know that's what you were going to say Yeji, and you're right. I know I won't be able to take it if the guy I love isn't the one for me, and that all of those nights alone with him that are coded into my brain are worthless. I'm scared Yeji, I'm scared that I won't be able to think of most of my life without tearing up." I explained, as she plopped down on my bed next to me.

"You're fear will just get worse until you find out, you'll never know the result until you actually try." She replied, placing my head on her shoulder for comfort.

I let out a shaky breath as a couple tears streamed down my cheeks, she was right as usual. But I still needed at least one day to prepare myself.

"Fine, but let me rest today. I'm not going to fancy restraint with puffy eyes and bed head." I remarked, watching as a sly smile spread across her lips.

She slowly began to exit my bedroom, delighted that she finally got her way with me. Not even explaining who that fake date even was, probably just a random guy from Google. It was 11:30 at night, and all of my crying really wore the energy out of my body and mind.

So eventually sleep crossed paths with my mind and hooked up, completely losing consciousness as my memories flashed like a polaroid camera.

December 15th 2018

"I can't believe we're graduating this year, seems like we only started high school yesterday." Jisung sighed, carrying both of our bags while walking home together.

"Don't worry quokka, you'll still carry my bags for me even after high school." I teased, pinching the reddened skin of his cheeks.

"Oh very funny, and you'll still put crackers in your mouth and pretend to be a walrus." He remarked dodging the snowball that came his way.

He set my bags down on my front yard as he gathered his own army of cold fluff balls. I tackled him to the ground as we both drowned the silence in laughter, I traced my frosted mittens across his face. Gently crossing his lips as he brushed the snow chunks from my hair.

The close warmth of his breath against my face sent my heart into a frenzy, I secretly craved the closeness of him... But I never wanted to admit it in case I'd lose him.

His now glossed lips looked so kiss able, the way they pouted as he focused on my hair. And how they stretched into a warm smile that left a fuzzy feeling in my heart for years, made it only harder to stop myself from interlocking them with mine.

"I better get going bun bun. I'll see you tomorrow at school though." Jisung reassured, lightly booping my nose as he left his trail from my snowy front yard. Waving one last time to catch my attention as I was at the front door.

"Farewell loser!" He shouted, showing off that bright smile of his.

"Farewell to you as well, asshole!" I retorted, giggling as I walked into my empty house all alone.

November 28th 2020

Y/n pov

"Wake up! Time for bubble tea!" Yeji screamed, jumping on top of me as she consistently hit me with my own pillows.

"I thought we were meeting Jisung later." I sighed, looking at the red numbers of my alarm clock reading 7:30am.

"Yes we are, but I want bubble tea and to talk with you about some stuff I found out." Yeji replied, pulling me out of bed to soon push me into the washroom.

I complied to her excited energy, understanding it is pretty exciting for her.

The steaming water swallowed every inch of my skin, blocking out all of the noises outside. Only leaving me and the blank wall to stare at, droplets of water racing against each other. A flash of the mirror and sunlight clashing, sending the flash of a polaroid to my memories.

August 16th 2018

Yeji squealed as her boyfriend threw her into the pool, soon joining her in a large cannonball jump. All of his friends danced around with liquor drenching their breath, as their bodies clashed together in ways they didn't fully understand.

It wasn't my style of fun, it instead gave me a wave of fear and stress. Not recognizing any of these people, while they danced around half naked. Yeji's boyfriend decided that she had enough fun for one night, and took her home to rest.

I hurriedly gathered my belongings and rushed out the door, just as excited and horny shouts came from the pool. I was okay to walk home alone, it felt nice to be surrounded my silence for once. Even if my conscious tortured me about every bad possibility.

"Need a drive home party animal?" a familiar voice called from across the road, that voice of the man who has always had my back.

"I'd actually really like that." I replied, feeling a wave of comfort when I entered the car.

"I can tell your a bit freaked out." He sighed, throwing his bad into the backseat.

"That party was just... A lot. A lot more than I expected." I whimpered, still a bit overwhelmed from the experience.

"How about you stay at my place for the night. We'll even watch some American horror story..." Jisung suggested, even though he was shit terrified of anything remotely scary.

"I'm holding you to it quokka." I giggled, slapping his thigh teasingly.

We drove to his home as the car filled with a random playlist of songs, one landing on my favorite 'Turning Page'.

"I didn't know you liked this song." I commented, blushing softly at the tone of the song.

"I want this to be the song that represents me and my soulmate. It sounds cheesy, but it's true." He revealed, glancing my way as the car stopped in the from of his home.

The whole topic of soulmates use to be humorous to me, remembering when me and Han drew matching docks on our palms as 'our' symbol. Even taking a polaroid photo of the amazing art we drew, I still have it in my phone case.

Then it hit me, how much it would hurt to see him destined with someone other then me. That moment when he glanced back into my eyes with a shy smile, is when I admitted to myself for falling madly in love with my best friend.

November 28th 2020

I walked along the streets of our home town, hanging my mask off my chin when sipping my bubble tea.

"You know what's crazy." Yeji started, catching my focus immediately.

"I remember the moment you started crushing on Jisung. You didn't even have to tell me, I already knew." She admitted, gazing at me with only a soft warmth in her eyes.

"It was obvious by how many photos you had of him and you on your wall, and the way you looked at him as if he were your dream person." She continued, texting something on her phone that I couldn't quite see.

"Or how when he caught you staring he'd reply with 'take a picture it'll last longer'... And you always did to get revenge. I will never forget the day I saw you two as more then best friends, that was the same day when I bought you that polaroid camera for Christmas. " She replied, taking a short break as her hands nervously fidgeted with her skirt.

"That's why I want a 'thank you' later on." She mumbled, before running off and leaving me completely stunned on the bench.

"Y/n..."

September 14th 2018

"It's crazy that this is your last day here." I sighed, trying my best not to cry.

He nodded trying to smile the pain away like me, but soon caving in once his arms met my body. I nuzzled into the crook of his neck, hoping I could capture his scent one last time.

"I'll still visit. I can't cope without seeing your face, asshole." He chuckled lightly, sniffling quietly when he retracted his arms away.

He stared at my features for a few long seconds, as if he was contemplating on doing something. Jisung shook his head, smiling brightly once more as he pulled me into one last hug.

As he put his palm on the door knob, I shouted his name one last time. Running across the room towards him, he turned around immediately dropping his bangs on the ground.

He instantly knew what I was going to do, since his lips molded with mine without one ounce of hesitation. His hands lost in my hair, pulling me closer and closer until there was no space between us. Jisung's lips were so much sweeter and softer then any other kiss I've had.

The sweetness was sprinkled with the salty taste of our mixed tears. Only creating more as the kiss began to end, both of us realizing we should've told each other so much sooner.

"I love you." We both sighed at the same time, smiling sadly at the bittersweet sting in our hearts.

November 28th 2020

"Jisung..." I gasped, turning around quickly to make sure I wasn't hallucinating.

"W-wow... You've really. Wow." He stuttered, cautiously inching closer towards me.

"You too." I chuckled airily, swallowing back my tears. I missed him so much, but it hurt too much to see him at the same time.

"Y/n... I know it's been a while. But I honestly came here because I needed to see you. I still love you, and I don't care if we're soul mates or not. I'll sharpie our own symbol on us everyday if I have to." He revealed, grasping my hands between his own.

"I'm sorry that I was being so selfish." I sighed, caving into my own tears. Regretting my fears of seeing him again, feeling terrible for torturing him just as much as I tortured myself.

"We are both scared. It's not our fault, but I just want us to accept that things may not go our way. But that won't stop us from being together." He reassured, lightly brushing frosted his mitten across my features. Glossing over my lips gently, his eyes warm and gentle as they fluttered shut.

I molded into his kiss immediately, lacing my fingers through his silky hair. Soon pulling him closer to my so there was no space between us, making sure no one could try and ruin this moment for us.

His lips still were as sweet as the first time they molded into mine, and his fingertips could still make my legs give out by how gentle they were against my skin. Every emotion flashed through my mind, all my regrets, confidence, love, lust... It all flashed just like a...

"Polaroid." He gasped, tugging my palm next to his as the ink slowly traced the same picture into my palm. The picture of the camera that captured all the moments I treasured with my soulmate, the soulmate that was everything I could've asked for.

[hinatas-sunshine]

✩ “She’s Almost...Cat Like?” ✩

Nishinoya X Reader

Request: Hello! I was wondering If I could request a fic for Nishinoya where he finds out that the reader is cursed by the cat spirt similar to Kyo from Fruits basket when ever she's hugged or embraced by a male she turns into a cat. - @loveforbakugo

Genre: Fluff, Little Angst

Warnings: Some spoilers if you haven’t finished Haikyuu or Fruits Basket!

A/N: My inbox is a little busy since I got back but I wanted to finish Fruits Basket before writing this and I HAVE IT WAS SO GOOD 10/10 🐈‍⬛🤍 this is bad but it’s wtv I’ll probably rewrite it as a headcanon in the future 😗

“You know we’ve been friends for years and you have never given me a hug! Not even after we got to nationals!”

You froze in your spot, feeling your stomach turn. What were you supposed to say? You know Noya is all about showing instead of saying... you forced yourself out of your own thoughts and looked at your pouting friend sitting on your bed.

“I just prefer not to Noya I’m not about physical affection.” You shrugged giggling. He dramatically threw himself back onto your bed while your smile dropped. If he knew the truth about you, he’d leave. Stop thinking like that! Noya isn’t that type of person! But still... if he found out everyone would despise you even more... you don’t need more reasons to be a burden-

“Y/n? You okay? You know you don’t have to give me a hug it was just a joke!” Noya frantically got up while you backed away, “No! don’t worry it’s not that! I just zoned out.” You smiled at him again while he nodded.

To stay safe, you and your family all kept this secret from everyone. You had been sent to school with the other Zodiac memebera such as Sugawara, The Rat Spirit and Tanaka, The Dog spirit. It was hard to do so for yourself but since they spend their time around boys so much, it was easy for them. You really did try to block out all of the boys from entering your life but upon hearing you’re “Very Distantly Related” they all brought you in as a manager.

——————

“Well look who woke up on the wrong side of the bed again today.”

“TSUKI! Leave y/n alone!”

You glared daggers at the blonde haired boy while he pretended to be spooked. “You wanna talk about wrong side of the bed?! I’ll snap your glasses in half right now!” You yelled while you and the boy approached each other, not breaking your glare at one another.

“I’d like to see you reach them.” You opened your mouth to speak until you felt someone take you by the back of your backpack and drag you back. “Y/n, you should really watch what you do. Tsuki is just trying to push your buttons.” You turned to Suga who stopped and turned to look at you. You huffed, “Why does the bean pole always get the last say?!” Suga brushed off your comment while you kept your angry face.

You had to admit, Suga was right. Your buttons were pushed, and they were quite easy to push. Still, you couldn’t allow yourself to get to close to these people. No one in your family even knew you were friends with Noya and if they did they would all freak on you again. The only one who knows is Suga, the rat spirit.

“You let yourself get your buttons pushed too often.” You scoffed and shoved Suga off of you, “I don’t wanna hear it from you.” You sneered at Suga who only sighed, “And I don’t want to keep saving you everytime so stop getting into so many arguments with Tsukishima.” You now held a glare on Suga, “You don’t have to put up with people hating on you half of the ti- Don’t walk away from me you stupid rat!” You stomped after Suga while many of the girls from your school stepped in front of you.

“We don’t appreciate you calling our Suga a rat.” You felt your blood boil, “You don’t know anything about Suga, Tanaka or I! So butt out!” You angrily yelled, pushing past them. You were really a ticking time bomb, going off every few minutes on everybody. You wish you could be kinder but you can’t be so confident in other people.

“Y/n!” You jumped at the voice and saw a smiling Noya walking towards you with a mischievous Tanaka following. “What?” You answered a little to harshly, “Woah Kitten calm down there, you need to cool down or something?” Tanaka lazily put his arm around you while you punched his side about the nickname. “Don’t put your nasty paws on me.” You glared while he whimpered “I thought of something, If I can guess your least favorite animal, I get a hug!” Noya smiled, making you look down at a now scared Tanaka, “I should end you Tanaka, this was your plan wasn’t it?!”

“Come on Y/n! It’s just one hug!” You looked at Noya who only whined like a child, “Nishinoya that’s enough! I said no!” You looked down at Tanaka who’s eyes widened, “Why do you always want to cause trouble for me! I have enough of it!” You continued to yell with tears in your eyes.

Why am I the one stuck with the curse of the cat zodiac?! Why am I treated like I’m worthless?! Why couldn’t I be born like every normal kid?! You began to breathe heavily and run away from everyone. Stupid stupid stupid stupid CURSE. Why can’t you just go away?! You sat outside and fiddled with your beaded bracelet you kept on you at all times. It was a little calming knowing you could control some part of yourself...

You sighed, wiping your tears away. Hearing your phone ding you pulled it out of your bag.

Tanaka: tell him. I won’t tell anyone. But please, do this for yourself. I didn’t mean to upset you...

Y/N: What happened? Why are you supporting me all of the sudden?

Tanaka: No reason. None at all. 😗

Y/N: You didn’t.... Tanaka.

Tanaka: Kiyoko was going to give me a hug! Plus she promised not to tell anyone!

Y/N: YOU IDIOT!

Tanaka: I’m sorry! But I’m not planning on being alone all my life! Kiyoko is an angel and I know she’s not a snitch!

You sighed and looked up seeing Noya walk up to you, “I’m not going to ask for a hug, I’m just here to check on you.” You put your phone in your bag, before approaching Noya. “I’m sorry for pushing you, I know better. I just wish you would allow people to care for you like I do. You matter so much to me, and I want to take care of you if it’s the last thing I do! Y/n, I’m never going anywhere!-huh?

You threw your arms around Noya, digging your face in his neck. While his arms where barely about to wrap around your waist, you two were clouded with pink fog. You fell back and looked down at your (color) fur coat and tiny kitten paws.

“A cat? Wow y/n that’s a cool trick! How’d you move away so fast?!”

You glared at Noya making a chill run down his back, “I-It’s you! I know that glare from anywhere!” You walked towards him while he crouched down to your level.

“So Tanaka wasn’t lying when he said you’re a cat. I thought it was because of how feisty you were!” He laughed sitting with you putting you on his lap, “Shut up! How does this not bother you?!” You were surprised to say the least, but he picked you up abruptly, “You can still talk to me?! Or can I talk to animals!?” You sighed and closed your eyes.

“YOU IDIOT I SHOULD CLAW YOUR FACE OFF I SWEAR YOU AND TANAKA SHARE ONE BRAIN CELL-“ you stopped talking when you felt Noya cradle you in his arms. Your loud self calmed down, for once and rested on him. For a few seconds, before another poof happened.

“NOYA CLOSE YOUR EYES!” You yelled frantically trying to get your clothes, “Huh? OH! IM NOT LOOKING!” He yelled, “STOP PEEKING YOU PERV!” You threw your jacket over his head while you continued to get dressed. You held onto your bracelet for a few seconds after getting dressed, that’s another story for another time...

“Can I uncover my eyes now?”

“NO NASTY PERVS DESERVE TO STAY LIKE THAT!”

“Oh so I see Miss Feisty Cat has returned- OW!”

With a bonk on the head you took the jacket off of him, his brown hair and little highlight sprawled out crazy and his smile shining bright.

“Why are you smiling perv?”

“I’m just happy you trust me with this.”

You smiled softly at him, helping him up. You knew this would cause a little trouble but maybe... maybe it was worth it.

This was so bad Bye 🤩 TAGS:

[yusume-the-writer]

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚕𝚎;

𝙼𝚛.𝚅𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝙾𝚏𝚏;

𝙼𝚢 𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚃𝚘 𝙱𝚎 𝚊 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗;

𝙸'𝚖 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝙾𝚏 𝚃𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝;

𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚈𝚘𝚣𝚘𝚔𝚞𝚛𝚊 𝙵𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢;

[incorrectbandofbrothersquotes]

I Don’t Think You’re An Angel (Anymore)

A Lewis Nixon x OFC One Shot

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Thank you to @basilone​ @softspeirs​ and @mercurygray​ for all your help on this! I am much happier with how it turned out thanks to y’all’s suggestions :)

Warning(s): Some suggestive language, but that’s about it

***

Her father once told her that nursing would make her feel fulfilled. It would get her back on her feet after such tragedy struck. Nothing healed like giving back and healing others, he said. Especially after downing whiskey and kissing strangers didn’t work, she thought. 

It did the trick, to be sure. Nursing school was rigorous, but it taught her a lot about herself. She met some of her greatest friends there, and new connections soothed the ache from the burn of the ones she lost. With a new support system, she wearily clawed her way out of the ashes of her grief, and stood up again. And when the war came, she and thousands like her were able to charge into the fray. 

But the last thing Bonnie wanted now was to be on her feet - in a much more literal sense. The Austrian sun shone outside, calling to her, coaxing her to come out and warm her face and rest her sore feet. But she didn’t have a day off for another two days. And after almost eight hours at the hospital, there were still more patients to check on before she could clock out. She felt that familiar throb in her heels as she headed into the next ward. 

Shit.

There he stood. The man she once knew as Lewis Nixon, but for many years, only referred to as “The Worst Mistake I Ever Made.”

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit.

He was coming closer, accompanied by a red-headed major she didn’t recognize. To her dismay, they headed for Sergeant Grant’s bed, the very patient she was supposed to check on. He was still recovering from his surgery until he was well enough to be moved to England. 

She decided to grit her teeth and bear it. Years had passed. Why should he bother her now? He probably wouldn’t even recognize her. She knew herself to be an unremarkable part of his life. How else could he have done what he did?

She strode over to the bed and ignored the men standing beside it. She lifted Grant’s chart and scanned it, but she couldn’t absorb anything. She could feel Lewis’s eyes on her. Moments that might have been hours passed as he stared, and she pretended she didn’t notice.

“Bonnie?”

Shit.

Biting back a groan, she looked at him, and met his eyes. Those eyes that once made her legs weak and her heart soft. But now only activated her punching reflex. She glanced at his collar to get his rank.

“Captain,” she said coolly. 

She returned her eyes to the clipboard.

“Okay, I know it doesn’t take that long to read a chart,” he said. 

She snapped it shut and glared at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were a medical professional. Would you like a white coat and stethoscope? Just clock in since you seem to know so much!”

“Still mad, I see,” he said with a grimace.

“Oh, get over yourself,” she shot back. 

“So, you two know each other?” the red-head observed, cutting the tension. 

“It was a long time ago,” she said. “We went to school together.”

“We used to date,” Lewis added. 

“Could not have been more obvious I preferred to keep that private, but I guess we’re in this room now,” she said. 

“Dick, this is Bonnie Butler,” Nix said. “Bonnie, this is Major Dick Winters.”

“How do you do?” she said politely. 

“Nice to meet you,” Dick replied. “Bonnie Butler...like the little girl from Gone With the Wind?”

“If fairness, I had the name first,” she pointed out. “And I haven’t broken my neck falling off a horse, but I avoid them just in case.”

They both chuckled, and she refrained from smirking with satisfaction. Her need to impress him disturbed her. 

“I gotta admit I’m surprised to see you here,” Lewis said. 

“We haven’t spoken in years, Lewis, anything I’m doing should come as a surprise to you,” she returned.

Now that the initial contact was made, she had an easier time going about her job checking on Grant. It was pretty basic, just taking vitals and ensuring he was still stable. Which he was.

“Well, I’ll let you visit now,” she said.

She started to go.

“Kathy’s leaving me,” he blurted out.

She turned to face him, expression level. “Is that supposed to mean something to me, Lewis?”

It should have felt like victory. Like justice. But it only made her sad. None of it meant anything now. Her loving him, him loving Kathy, and Bonnie hating them both for it. The agony she faced because he chose her friend was only worth a few years of marriage. 

Did everything have to fall apart? Was nothing truly built to last? The war showed her that even thousand-year-old buildings would crumble under a bomb. Just as she crumbled when Lewis dropped the truth about him and Kathy. But now they were in ruins as well, so what was the point in any of it?

He shifted his weight between his feet, as he always did when he was anxious. He looked at the ground and then back at her, his eyes revealing how deeply he was stung. 

“Guess not,” he said. “I’ll see you around, Bonnie.”

She didn’t answer for so long he feared she would not at all. But she was still looking at him.

“I should hope not, Lewis,” she finally said. 

With that, she turned on her heel and walked out of the wing. Dick looked at Bonnie and then at his friend. He had never seen Lewis look so guilty. There was a deep remorse there, which indicated a great impact on his life, but Dick could not recall Lewis ever mentioning this woman. 

“What did you do to her?” Dick asked. 

Lewis cleared his throat before he answered. “Did I ever tell you how I met Kathy?”

Dick shook his head. 

“Well, Bonnie and I were dating,” Lewis began. “Kathy was her best friend. And, well...we fell in love. Behind Bonnie’s back. We had an affair for six months before we came clean.”

Dick blinked, taken aback. He knew Lewis was not the most ethical person in the world, but he did not expect his friend to be capable of something like that. He didn’t blame Bonnie at all for the way she spoke to Lewis. That kind of betrayal went deep because it was not just her boyfriend, but the one person she was supposed to be able to rely on when her boyfriend messed up. And then, to add insult to injury, they ended up married. Now, Dick was impressed with how Bonnie handled the news of the divorce. She had every right to laugh in his face. And she didn’t.

“Did you apologize?” Dick asked. 

“Oh, only about a thousand times,” Lewis replied. “And even after some time went by, Kathy and I tried to reach out again, but she wanted nothing to do with us. And we didn’t blame her, of course, but it still hurt.”

A beat passed. Lewis watched the door where Bonnie disappeared and wondered now if his split from Kathy was his punishment for what he did to her. That he and Kathy - because they started as a transgression - were perhaps doomed to fail. 

“C’mon, Nix,” Dick said. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

“Or dink,” Lewis returned. 

They left the hospital, but he found himself wishing he could find her again. Explain some more. But he knew better.

The following morning, Bonnie went to change an IV for a young corporal who had drunkenly jumped from a fourth story window and broken his leg. Many of the injuries she treated these days were caused by the jubilance of VE-Day, and she couldn’t say she blamed them, but she did wish they would be more careful. 

“Thanks, Nurse Butler,” the corporal said. 

“I’m just doing my job,” she replied gently. “This’ll only take a moment.”

She reached for the bag, when she suddenly heard a dreaded voice from behind her. 

“Careful with those, they can get messy,” Lewis said. 

She whipped around. 

“I’m sorry, don’t I first open my eyes and realize it’s a new day?” she asked sarcastically.

“I didn’t -”

“What is this magic bag in front of me?!” she exclaimed, holding the IV bag out with taunting wonder. 

“Look -”

“I’ve done this before,” she said sharply, becoming serious again and facing the patient, who was snickering.

“I know that,” he said.

“Then stop telling me what to do,” she retorted.

“I was joking,” he said calmly. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” she shot back, with a bitterness that told him she meant more than just the joke.

He did not speak again until after the IV was replaced. When she finished, she ignored Lewis and began walking away. 

“Bonnie, wait, I think we should talk about things,” he said, trailing behind her. 

“I disagree,” she replied. “Besides, I’m working.”

“When is your shift over?” 

“You know I’m not going to tell you that.”

“Please -”

She halted and whirled around. He skidded to a stop a few feet away. 

“What is it you’re so desperate to tell me?” she demanded. “That you’re sorry? Because I’ve heard that before, Lewis, and I don’t care.”

“You really can’t forgive me?” he asked. “After all this time?”

She wondered that herself often enough. But there was too much. Not only the betrayal, but the effects of it. How could she forgive him for the worthless way she felt? How could she forgive him for her now ingrained lack of trust? How could she forgive him for the nights she spent crying on the kitchen floor, convinced that this was what love felt like? 

His eyes clung to her gaze, and she endured a long moment of weakness where she felt totally incapable of turning away from him. But she knew she could now because she had done it before. 

“No,” she said, surprised by the croak in her voice and the lump in her throat. 

She didn’t wait for him to answer. She walked away, and thankfully, he didn’t follow. 

Another day passed. Lewis did not return to the hospital, and Bonnie was relieved. She worked the rest of her shift in peace. The only disturbance was a violent thunderstorm, which rumbled in the sky and pelted rain down against the roof all day.

When her shift concluded, it was still raining. Unwilling to get drenched, she went to the doctor’s lounge, which nurses frequented as well, for a drink. She had the next day off, so she figured she could afford to get a little tipsy. Her true goal was to get Lewis Nixon off her mind, but as she walked in, she met a dismal sight. There he sat at the bar, nursing a whiskey, looking sadly at a letter. 

She looked at the heavens to address God directly.

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?”

She waited a moment, but received no reply. So with a sigh, she went over to the bar and took the stool beside Lewis. 

“You know, if you’re not medical personnel, you’re not really supposed to be in here,” she said.

He looked at her. “Are you speaking to me now?”

“I never said we can’t speak in general,” she said. “Just not about our past.”

“I see,” he returned. “Well, to address your earlier statement, this is the only place they have Vat 69 in all of Europe apparently.”

“You’re still drinking that nasty stuff?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.

“You’re not?”

She shook her head. “No, I’ve moved on.”

With that, she ordered a gin and tonic. They waited in silence as the bartender prepared it. The soft clink of ice and pop of the gin bottle might as well have been explosions. There were no other patrons to fill up the space. 

“So, are we gonna catch up?” he wondered. “Like old friends?”

“I don’t think we were ever really friends,” she replied. “If we were, you wouldn’t have done what you did.”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he warned jokingly. “That is forbidden territory.”

“Do you wanna talk or do you wanna fuck around?” she retorted. 

“If we’re not gonna address the elephant in the room, I’d argue that all we’re doing is fucking around,” he said. 

She couldn’t help but chuckle at that. As she relaxed into her chair and took a sip of her drink, memories of them laughing together swam before her. Those tidbits of happiness that she locked away so that they couldn’t hurt her anymore. Back when she thought of him as her whole world. 

“Alright, let’s fuck around,” she said. 

She let him go first. He talked about his son, then about joining the Airborne, about meeting Dick Winters, and he even admitted that he never fired a shot in combat. She told him about nursing school, enlisting, and a bit about her journey through Europe. It was all very surface level and appropriate. But it wasn’t them. 

“Would I be trespassing if I asked about your parents?” he wondered after their third round.

She considered it as she sipped her fourth cocktail. They grew up together, so she supposed it was fair. 

“Fine,” she said. “But it might depress you. Dad passed away, and Mom really hasn’t been the same since.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “They were always nice to me. Even after…”

She nodded, turning her glass on the counter, keeping her watering eyes focused on it. As her mother deteriorated, she kept asking where “that angel Lewis” was. Mrs. Butler doted on Lewis Nixon as if he were her own son. And Bonnie’s was not the only heart broken when everything happened. But now Mrs. Butler was stuck in a time before that, and Bonnie never had the heart to remind her that things were different now. 

“She asks about you,” Bonnie blurted out. “Mom does.”

“And what do you say?” he asked. 

“I tell her you’re coming any day now,” she said. “Of course she doesn’t know the difference. She can’t remember anything.”

He half smiled. “Well, I better go see her so I don’t make a liar out of you.”

She half smiled back. “That’d mean a lot to her.” 

She paused a beat while a doctor and another nurse filed in and took up two stools just a few seats away from her and Lewis. The other two were obviously romantic - their knees touched, their hands lingered close to each other, and they hardly looked at the bartender as they ordered. They were so wrapped up in each other. Bonnie felt the distance between her and Lewis was cavernous in comparison. She took a dink.  

“Um, how are your folks? Feeling alright?” she asked after swallowing.

“Oh, they’re the same as ever,” he said. “A little cold, a little rich. They’re gonna lose it when I tell them about the divorce.”

“You’re a grown man,” she reminded him. “What could they do?”

“You act like growing up means your parents can’t be obnoxious,” he said. “They can and they will.”

She bit her lip with hesitation. “Can I ask you something? It might be crossing a line.”

“Honey, I’m on my fifth whiskey, you can ask me whatever you want,” he assured her, knocking back the last gulp in his glass.

“Why can’t it work between you and Kath - your wife?” she asked. 

She couldn’t bring herself to say the name. Calling her “Kathy” made her who Kathy was. Bonnie’s former best friend who betrayed her in the worst way possible. Calling her “his wife” reduced her to an abstract. She could be anyone in theory. 

“She met someone else,” he answered. “Ironically enough.”

The air around them felt thick again. 

“You can laugh,” he said. “It must feel like poetic justice or something to you.”

She shook her head. “The last thing I feel like doing is laughing. That kind of hurt is not something I would wish on anyone, not even you.”

“It feels like you’re supporting me, but just barely,” he joked. 

She offered a smile. “I’m sorry, Lew. Really, I am.”

“Thanks,” he said. “But how on Earth are you so goddamn understanding?”

Her brow furrowed. “What? I’m not being understanding. I still think you’re rude for what you did.”

He blinked. “Rude?!”

“Yes, rude!” she cried. “You wanna cheat on me? That’s fine! You wanna marry that girl and get her pregnant? Fine! But to make it my best friend? That’s just rude!”

He laughed. An old, buried admiration for his smile crept up into her heart - right along the very cracks he had created and she had forced back together, never fully repairing the damage. She looked away, only to see the other couple was kissing now, and Bonnie had to turn her back to them.

“Well, I apologize for my rudeness,” he said.

“Based on the situation, I’m sure it won’t happen again,” she replied. 

“Ouch,” he said. “But well deserved on my part.”

“I’ll say,” she agreed. “But...can I ask you one more thing?”

“We have already crossed way beyond the line, go ahead,” he said.

“If you two felt that way about each other,” she began. “Why didn’t you just tell me? If you had been honest, I would have told you I’d be fine. I would never have stood in the way of your happiness. The lie hurt me more than the blow to my ego.”

He took a drink of his fresh glass of whiskey and swished it in his mouth briefly before swallowing - a tactic she was familiar with. He was constructing a careful answer.

“First of all, in fairness to us, we had no way of knowing that,” he said. “Second of all, and perhaps worst of all, we...we didn’t want to hurt you.”

“But don’t you see how it’s worse that you -”

“Of course,” he cut across her. “Of course we see how what we did was worse. We were young and stupid and afraid. And look where we are now.”

At that, they both finished their drinks. She bounced her foot a moment as what she was about to say bubbled up. Could she really say it? Did she mean it? She glanced at his face and got her answer. 

“Okay,” she said. “I’m ready.”

“To what?” he asked. “I hope it’s to tell those two to get a room.”

He nodded down the bar at the doctor and nurse. Their drinks remained untouched, but the same could not be said for their legs or their backsides. Bonnie snorted.

“C’mon, give them a break,” she said. “You remember what it was like when it was new.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said fondly. “Remember that time at Joan Watson’s party, when you and I went upstairs and -”

She squeaked to cut him off and her face went beet red. A fleeting memory of his hands on a lot more than her legs made her squirm in her seat. She cleared her throat. 

“As I was saying,” she said firmly. 

“Right, sorry,” he said through a chuckle. “What is it you’re ready for?”

“To forgive you,” she told him. “We’re both different people now, aren’t we?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’d say that’s true.”

He sat up a little straighter, appearing lighter. He pursed his lips too, fighting the grin that was spreading across his face.

“Wanna get out of here?” she suggested. 

“I’m still enjoying my whiskey,” he said. 

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough whiskey for - I dunno - a lifetime?”

“Not my lifetime.”

She rolled her eyes. He met her gaze and smirked. Then, he got to his feet, and offered her his hand. She took it, and they touched for the first time since what they each thought was to be the last time. Who could have imagined they would find each other again in Austria? So far from home and everything they knew together? And yet, through clasped hands, they felt that home was not so far away after all.

He helped her off the stool, they paid, and then walked outside together. The clouds had disappeared and the sun was beating down a fresh, fragrant warmth. The air was clear. The storm had passed. 

[allandoflimbo]

Take It Back (Chapter 26)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary:  About five years ago, a one night stand with Y/N tore Bucky’s life apart. It was also the night before his wedding. Now he’s married to her sister and she needs a place to stay.

Chapter Warnings: None.

Take It Back Full Masterpage |

Boys workin' on empty Is that the kind'a way to face the burning heat? I just think about my baby I'm so full of love I could barely eat

Paris, France

She was a sight to behold - a silver tweed dress that fell just above the knees, accompanied by black six-inch heels with red soles; Louboutins.

Her long hair cascaded down her exposed back as she threw her head back in a gorgeous sounding laugh that had all the men around ogling her.

She held a tight grip on the vanilla flavored champagne, the other hand holding onto the clutch that carried her spare euros and a MAC matte red lipstick.

A particular brunette man had his hand on her lower back as she reached over to put her glass down, his wide smile mimicking hers.

Where his black suit hugged his male-model physique, her tan legs ran for days passed the edges of her dress and into her shoes- toned and appearing worked out to perfection.

At least that’s what the envious woman around her thought. Especially little blonde Kelly Sanders who eyed her from across the banquet floor, in a Valentino and all.

Little did they - Kelly especially - know that she was genetically lucky. Not having to go a day to the gym, she’d been blessed with curves in the right spots, a decent speed metabolism, and imperfections that were constantly overlooked, but to Ashlyn were bluntly obvious.

Not that she wanted people to see her imperfections or for them to vocally state their awareness about it - she had enough of that to deal with from her nagging self because of her extremely low self-confidence - but, sometimes, she wondered if the love the people around her showed her was really genuine.

She knew Tony’s wasn’t.

The only genuine thing in her life right now was Bucky, and she was ruining it because she thought she had been doing them a favor. Anything that once had a potential to be good in her life had been jeopardized by her, and she had spent the last five years trying to make up for it.

She’d do anything for her husband.

When you had turned to her in the train that one day many years ago, and brought up Kelly and her boyfriend and how they had gotten engaged after only five months of dating, any doubt she had about moving too quickly with Bucky had left her mind.

There was no doubt in her mind that what she had with him was rare and true love.

When she had seen his perfect blue eyes for the first time and the way he had reached out to flick a snowflake off of her hair, she had been caught in a trance.

It was like something out of a movie and her heart had fluttered when he gave her that iconic smile.

The smile that would soon belong to the man she’d end up marrying.

She knew who he was when she met him, but she had lied and pretended like she didn’t know. She was afraid of coming clean after so many months, afraid that it would make it look like she did it out of using him, when the truth was that she didn’t want him to think that his reputation was why she wanted to be with him in the first place.

They had swapped numbers after their first encounter, and she fell in love with him after two weeks, and she was certain he felt the same way.

Even you saw it; that un-denying chemistry.

Bucky was sweet, he was kind, and he was everything she had been waiting for since her parents had died.

After their death, she had felt more alone than ever.

She had already faced bipolar and other emotional issues before their death, you (her little sister), seeming to be the only light in her life anymore.

She knew there was times where she felt like she did things that didn’t make sense, or say things that didn’t make any sense either.

She would most often than not, realize it too late, but she knew.

She did it because of herself. She felt worthless and she felt like she deserved every consequence that was handed her way. She didn’t know why- maybe it was whatever unbalanced chemicals that were being produced in her brain that made her feel a certain way about herself.

Since a child, she never really found her true herself or who she was.

She was never certain about her identity, to begin with.

She didn’t help her mother cook in the kitchen like you did, and she never fit into any clique at school. She’d ditch going out on Friday nights to instead help you with your homework or your hair and makeup so you could go out and meet your friends.

Her senior year she had ditched the cafeteria and resorted to eating her lunch in the bathroom stall, the loneliness and the fear of being alone forever engulfing her.

The echoes of the footsteps in the bathroom from her classmates as she chewed her peanut butter and jelly sandwich - swallowed down by a gulp of chocolate milk - were her lullabies.

Not too long after, she was diagnosed with bipolar and depression by age nineteen, making sure she was keeping it from everyone around her.  

The last thing she wanted was to be treated the way she viewed herself.

The reason people were distant wasn’t because she was bullied or because people thought she was weird, she just didn’t know who exactly she was.

She didn’t know who she was until Bucky Barnes showed it to her.

He saved her in many more ways than she could ever say, and she goddamn loved him for it. He was her saving grace, and his presence reminded her just how much she needed to take care after you.

After your parent’s death she had become distant again, her depression was worst and she took it out on you, by no fault of her own.

When Bucky came into the picture, and he had upped her spirits in surprising ways that made her unbelievably happy, it was like a fog was cleared from her eyes and she was reminded that she had to take care of you.

It happened all because of him.

Ashlyn loved him with all her heart, but it came with a price.

Because of him, she discovered herself, and what she liked was material things and doing things for her husband, that in the long run, would benefit him [them].

Everything that she had transformed herself to become, which was now making her happier than ever, she had done it because of and for him.

And now that she’d been doing better mentally, after taking many drugs and lots of therapy, she found herself falling into the arms of another man.

When Mr. Barnes had taken her aside after their first interview, he had looked at her a certain way that made her tummy turn in uncertainty.

She had trembled slightly in apprehension as she saw a familiar form in his hand.

Resting his leg on his desk, his eyes darkened but remained on her.

It wasn’t to deny, Mr. Barnes had been a beautiful man (a silver fox in all ways), but he had made her feel uneasy with the way he stared at her ass when she had greeted her son earlier in the lobby.

The interview had gone well until she saw in his right hand a piece of paper that would either make or break it all.

“You didn’t have to keep this from us. Not me, especially my son, as I’m assuming he doesn’t know. Is there a reason why you chose to not mention this?”

He took Ashlyn’s silence as his answer and makes a sound of understanding.

“Why,” he taps the papers against his legs and walks around to sit in his big chair behind his desk, “did you keep your medical records a secret?”

Ashlyn swallowed nervously, her mouth opening but no sound coming out.

“Did you think this would stop me from hiring you?” Mr. Barnes wasn’t yelling, but his voice was strong. When she doesn’t say anything, he leans over his desk, drops the paper down, and with crossed hands continues, “look, you’re a sweet girl. And I see a lot of potential in you. You have good qualities, you stick up for what you want regardless of if it’s right or wrong-“

She couldn’t help it.

“I’m sorry, you got that from a fifteen-minute interview?” Ashlyn chuckles nervously.

Mr. Barnes smiles.

“Trust me, I have good instinct. Anyway, am I wrong?” When Ashlyn doesn’t respond, Mr. Barnes smirks, eyes drifting once more to her gorgeous legs, “bipolar, depression, anxiety, personality disorder, a manic episode-“ Ashlyn flinches with each word thrown at her, she feels it eating away at her bones and most importantly - her dignity. He notices and his eyes soften, “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Many famous businessmen, celebrities, big figure names—suffer from the same illnesses. It doesn’t make you any less human or capable.”

A breath of relief escapes her lungs.

Ashlyn nodded.

He smirked.

“Come here, I want to show you something.”

She had followed him out to the large window and stood there next to her for a few minutes before continuing.

“You see this?” Ashlyn followed his gaze out into the city, the hundreds of people walking below in the streets, the famous buildings hanging high in the skies like goddamn trophies, “Barnes Enterprises owns about seventy five percent of everything you’re seeing. From the Hudson to the bay-“ He turned slowly to Ashlyn and examined her face, “I see the way your eyes shine when you look at it.”

Ashlyn swallows as her eyes drift down, “It’s all really nice. Everything he’s done for me so far, it’s almost like he knows exactly what I need. It’s like he’s cured me.” She trembled slightly under his heavy gaze and as his finger played with a strand of her that was on her shoulder.

“And what is it that you need?”

Ashlyn thought about it- really thought about it. The answer was simple, and it wasn’t one that she had ever expected to be the answer to all her issues. After Bucky had given her the apartment, the job, and now looking at the city, she knew exactly what it was that she wanted.

“Everything.”

Barnes’ bit his bottom lip and nodded, looking once more out the window.

“Perfect. Look I think you’ll be perfect for this job more than you think. If anything I’m going to want your help, but it’s something that can only stay between us. It will make you happy and it will help you.” “Of course, anything.”

Mr. Barnes sighed.

“Look, Bucky’s a great kid, as I’m sure you know. But he’s got some weaknesses. He thinks too much with his heart. I’m going to want you to work under my eye, and there are certain tasks you might have to do that at first won’t make sense to you, but in the long run you will see it pay off. That is, if I choose you to stay.”

His words at first had surprised her. Bucky’s own father wanted Ashlyn to keep a secret from him. She loved Bucky and she loved the things he was doing for her.

“It will help me?” Her voice shook with uncertainty.

“Yes.”

It was on their trip to Paris that it had happened.

It was a simple assistant job, follow Mr. Barnes around like a fucking chihuahua taking his calls, making sure everything was in order, keeping appointments, etc.

She made sure that all his emails were read and she read lines with him on what he had to say to Tony at their meeting the following night.

Everything was all set until it was time for her to go to her own hotel room when Mr. Barnes stopped her.

She spun around with a small frown and asked if there was something she had missed. He simply shook his head and beckoned her with his finger to walk over to him.

She hesitated for a moment until those familiar eyes took her in, shivering at how it sent a weird warmth down her body that she didn’t expect.

Somewhere along the way, she’d ended up between his legs. His hands had been on her waist and her own hands in his silver luxurious hair.

He had started with simple kisses around her belly button around the heavy rummaging of his corse hands on her denim were the only sound.

In the back of her head, she had that burning guilt of the reminder of her boyfriend and she pushed him away softly, almost painfully.

“Mr. Barnes, this is wrong.”

“Remember that test I was telling you about? This is it, Ashlyn. If you can do this, you can do anything. And you can have anything you want.”

She wanted to be cured, she wanted to be okay again like when she was a child. She hated her illness, and the only thing that seemed to make her better was what Mr. Barnes was offering her.

He was right. Wasn’t he?

She felt a heavy knot in her throat.

“You can’t tell Bucky.”

“No. Never. That would ruin everything.”

She took in his words and after a few more seconds succumbed to his ‘test’.

She’d gone down on him and she had felt disgusted with herself. When he was finished, she wanted to run out of that room and call Bucky, tell him she loved him.

She was turned away and had wiped her mouth one more time on the back of her hand when that husky voice from behind her started again.

“Have you ever owned a five thousand dollar purse before?”

She had thought that was a weird question, especially after just giving a man a blowjob.

“No.”

“It’d look good on you. I’ll take you tomorrow to get one.”

Her brows furrowed.

“I don’t have five thousand dollars.”

“Yes, yes you do.”

The second he said it everything in her head finally clicked.

Anything she wanted really could be hers.

The first few work ‘trips’ and ‘meetings’ after that night killed her. Her love for Bucky was still so strong and the guilt ate her alive.

But Mr. Barnes promised her that what she was doing would be for him, too. It was good for the both of you, he had said. And Ashlyn believed him.

She had to convince Stark and Pymm for a percentage of their company's proceeds and it was up to her. She hated that she was spending more time away from her boyfriend and she noticed how much it was tearing them apart.

But it was strange because part of her was no longer depressed. She finally felt beautiful and happy, like she was meantfor something.

She felt wanted.

Her happiness soon became bigger than the pain she felt for cheating on Bucky. He still loved her anyway.

He wouldn’t leave her.

Her escapades with Hank had been brief and almost felt pointless.

For the most part, he’d just lay there beneath her like the old man he was and let her ride him until his body jerked.

She’d go back to Barnes’ shower and scrub her skin until it was raw, almost certain that with the way their sex was going it wasn’t going to turn into a good result.

They weren’t going to get the percentage Barnes Enterprises was hoping for.

To say she was surprised when Mr. Barnes told her they’d gotten forty percent of the gross pay, after their disappointing fuck fest, was an understatement.

Maybe she was better than she thought.

Maybe Bucky was right, she really was perfect.

Then she met Tony.

She thought that what she had with Bucky was true love until Tony.

Unfortunately, it was unrequited.

She had been shattered at the thought of what she had allowed her heart to feel and what she had ruined. When Bucky had run out that night to God knows where, she had finally had a taste of her own medicine. And it was fucking bitter.

She needed Bucky in her life. He was her guardian angel.

But she also needed to do it for her health. She couldn’t risk the chance of Bucky finding out about what she had done and and leaving her with nothing.

She was afraid of what would happen to her sanity.  

So her and Mr. Barnes came up with a plan. It would not only help salvage the company but it would keep Ashlyn at peace. After all, he’d convinced her that she was mentally stronger at keeping a better financial outcome for the company than Bucky ever would.

His thought process was too logical, hers was more practical.

The moment she promised herself that she would no longer cheat was exactly four years ago, about a year into their marriage.

Her change of heart was mainly because there was no longer a reason for it, she had the money she needed, THEY had it all.

She tried so hard to love him again and to make him love her again.

And one day, it almost seemed like they did.

It almost seemed too good to be true. And now, they had a baby on the way.

This was their second chance.

She thought for many nights of asking Bucky about the one night he ran out on her many years ago. She thought about asking where it was he had ran to, but she knew she couldn’t handle it.

She was thankful he never brought it up again.

For a while, everything seemed great.

Until you showed up again, the so-called light of her life.

It was like Bucky’s switch flipped and it had been how it used to be five years ago.

And that’s how she ended up at Steve’s front door.

It didn’t take more than three persistent knocks for the door to swing open.

She was met with Steve’s distraught expression which quickly turned into shock.

“Ashlyn.”

Ashlyn was momentarily stunned as she looked back at the face that she hadn’t seen in years.

“Steve.”

Steve swallowed hard as his eyes darted down her body, his grip on the door tightening.

“What are you doing here?”

“I think you know why I’m here.”

Multiple possibilities swam through Steve’s head and a strange fear that he couldn’t place crept up his spine.

He tilted his head.

“I can’t talk right now—“

“Like hell, you can’t, Rogers.”

Ashlyn had moved up until her our hand was on his door, trying to pry it open. He stared up at her, eyes still bloodshot.

“What do you want?” He whispered painfully.

Her eyes were just as pained, “I need to talk to you, please.”

He looked at her for a second longer, contemplating if he would be able to handle another wave of drama after what he had just experienced in his now ex-girlfriend’s hotel room, before finally letting Ashlyn in.

“Please tell me what you were doing with Bucky.”

She says after he has the door closed. She notes the way the muscles in his back tense at her words, the heavy puff of air that escapes his lungs as his fingers flex against the wood of the door.

“Please, Steve. What don’t I know?”

“I-“ his breath catches in his throat as he plays back the image of his best friend and his girl next to a used condom, “You should call him.”

“He’d hiding something isn’t he?” Steve took in a deep breath as he ran a hand down his face, “Please, Ash—“

“Is it business-related, or does it have to do with something else?” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, “You don’t know what I’ve been through, how hard I have tried to salvage our marriage. And just when I thought I had him back, he’s hiding something and I know it.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve mumbles as he turns around to make his way to the living room, walking right past Ashlyn with a stern face.

“If you’re sorry you would tell me what you know, you would tell me the real reason you left, you would explain to me-“

“Will you stop?”

His sudden shout shocks both of them. Ashlyn’s breathing hard as she sees the fresh tears sprung his eyes.

“I know it’s hard. It’s fucking hard, I know. But I’m not in the mood right now to be anyone’s psychologist or couples mediator. You want to know everything, why don’t you try communicating with your husband? Why don’t you ask him your damn self, Ashlyn?”  He watches as she started to cave into herself, eyes looking away from him in shame.

“I’m afraid.”

It comes out quietly. Steve’s sighs in disappointment - disappointment with himself for the way he snapped at you.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s hard to ask something you secretly don’t want the answer to, and damnit, I feel horrible that I can’t be the one to speak to you about it. It has to be him.”

A few tears run down her face as they both stand there in silence.

Steve’s eyebrows dart up as he sees Ashlyn reach for the buttons of her wool coat, unbuttoning it slowly.

It isn’t until she has it draped over her right arm and she faces him completely -eyes darting towards her belly- that he realizes what she was showing him.

His eyes dart immediately to her stomach. If it wasn’t for her move or for where her gaze was, he wouldn’t have even noticed the small little bump.

He swallows thickly as many emotions course through his body.

“Are you…?” It comes out softly.

She nods.

He was angry at his best friend for doing what he did to his wife - his pregnant wife-, he was confused because did you know about this, and he felt pain for Ashlyn. For the betrayal, she would feel when she found out what Bucky did to her.

He felt pity.

Steve walked over to his couched and motioned for Ashlyn to follow him.

“Please.”

She became timid under his gaze as she brushed a few tears off her face.

“Tell me everything.”

Ashlyn took a deep breath and started from the beginning, but leaving out the inappropriate details that involved Mr. Barnes, Tony, and Hank.

“—I knew we were going through a rough patch, and it was mostly my fault because I was so busy with work, but he shouldn’t have given up on me so easily. I still tried so hard to fight for us, but something was distracting him. I don’t know what, I mean at one point I thought maybe he was even cheating on me- kissing some other girl on the side- but never actually fornicating. He’s too good.”

Steve’s gaze trailed down the side of the couch, his heart grew heavy.

“Right?”

Steve reached over and took Ashlyn’s hand in his, “I’m sorry you’ve both been going through all this. You don’t deserve it. But I can’t tell you what I know.” “Why?” “Because it’s not my place. But you need to talk to him as soon as possible,” Steve ran his hand through his hair, “I can’t stand that son of a bitch right now, but at the end of the day,  I can’t get it out of my head that he’s still that same little boy I grew up with. I want to hate him so much, but I still have some kind of respect that I just can’t shake.”

“What happened between both of you, if it doesn’t relate to me? You seem shaken up.”

Steve was caught off guard by her questions.

“Look, I think you should go—“

Steve stood up quickly before the tears could make its way up his throat.

“Steve-“

“Please take care of yourself, Ashlyn.”

“It’s so hard not being able to touch you,” you whimper when you get a chance to pull away from his mouth, “But we can’t. Not until we tell her.”

His fingers continued to trail down your chin and you got lost in his touch again.

“James.”

You whimpered softly. You were hypnotized by his presence as he leaned in to kiss you.

You kissed him back deeply, moaning the second his tongue flicked against yours.

You ran your left hand up through his hair and your leg wrapped around his waist. He groaned as he ground up against you.

“Just once more.” He whimpered into the soft skin of your neck.

“We can’t keep doing this—“ your hands drifted down to the buckle of his belt, “we can’t.”

You continued to open up his fly.

He was panting while he looked down at what you were doing.

“Then stop,” he met your eyes in an intense stare that left you shaking, “I dare you.”

Your only response was to raise yourself higher onto your elbows, grabbing him in a harsh kiss.

“One more time.” You breathed out.

He kissed you again and again.

You shuddered as you felt the tips of his fingers on the waist of your jeans and underwear.

Your kisses began to get heated and you had to physically pull yourself away from him.

“Bucky, wait.”

“What’s wrong?” “We’re good people, but look at what we’re doing to the people around us. I love you so much, but I can’t keep doing this knowing that they are still hurting.”

“So what do you suggest we do?” “We need to speak to Steve. We need to explain everything. And then Ashlyn needs to know.” You watched as he visibly swallowed hard. You reached for his left hand and played with the ring there, “I can’t keep having sex with you when you’re still married to her.”

“You’re right. No, I agree.”

You’re both sitting next to each other and Bucky reaches over to grab his leather coat when a vibrating sound startles the both of you. Your eyes furrow together as an unknown caller comes up on the screen.

“Hello?” “Why hello to you, too.” “Nat?”

Yours and Bucky’s eyes meet briefly.

“The one and only.”

Nat sits in a coffee shop, and she twirls the edge of her mug with a pointer finger. Across from her is Wanda, her face in her hands.

“How have you been? You cut me off and not even an “I miss you” either?”

You let out a long sigh, guilt consuming you.

“Look, Nat. Its been a hard five years,” your eyes flicker up to Bucky again and he gives you a sad look, “I’m sorry, I do miss you. I missed all of you.”

“Listen, tell Bucky I need to steal you for tonight. He wouldn’t mind now would he?” Nat smirked while Wanda groaned into her hand.

You’re shocked, and you’re quite positive Bucky heard her judging by his equally stunned face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You add in a fake/nervous laugh for extra measure.

“Who do you think sent Barnes after you in the first place?” You don’t answer still shocked, “Tonight, come out to dinner with me and my friend. We have a plan. I’ll text you details.”

She hangs up on you and you're left fazed and confused as you look down at your phone.

“What was that?” Bucky asks concerned.

“Nat wants to meet up with me tonight. She says she has some sort of plan.” “Plan for what?” “I have no idea.”

Bucky nods. He’s just got his shows slipped on when he walks over to you, planting a deep kiss on your swollen lips.

You part them slightly, letting your hand go to the back of his neck, pulling him in deeper into you.

When you both pull away he smiles at you,

“Everything will be fine. You go meet Nat, as I’m sure she misses you just as much as you miss her. I think I’m gonna go to talk to Steve.” “Are you sure?”

Bucky nodded, “Yeah. Bro to bro.”

Steve knew that by the second time that evening if one more person were to knock crazily on his front door, he would burn his apartment down along with his body.

He was so exhausted he didn’t even care to look through the peephole before ripping it open.

What he was face to face with was the last thing he was expecting.

He sucked in a deep breath through his nose.

He didn’t hesitate before shutting it closed again in Bucky’s face.

“Come on, man.” Bucky sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. He raised his hand and knocked once more, “Please.”

Steve remained silent, back leaned up against his door.

“I know all of this is a mess, but I want to explain myself. It’ll make sense if you just let me talk,” Steve’s eyes closed tight together, “Steve, please.” Bucky leaned his hand down to the doorknob and jiggled it, “Come on. You’re my best friend.”

Steve let his back drag down the door, bringing his knees to his chest.

Bucky took a deep breath, “Fine. I’ll talk and you can listen.”

__

@wxntersoldxer16 @void-imaginations @heykarsyn @avashroom @sarcastic-and-cool @lunaticbarnes @benhardygalileo @wildmavs @runaway-escape @stevieboyharrington @kimvmarvel @chipilerendi @hardygal69 

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Boys when my baby found me I was three days on a drunken sin I woke with her walls around me Nothin' in her room but an empty crib

[fallingallin701]

Breathing

Pairing: Koutarou Bokuto x gn! Reader

Warnings: depressing thoughts, suicidal thoughts, please don’t read if this could trigger you, and know you can always talk to someone and reach out to me if you feel this way

Word count: 2.8k

Author’s note: This is my first Haikyuu! drabble, I hope I did a good job! 

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Breathe in. Breathe out.

You had to remind yourself to take each breath in and to let it out. Otherwise, how could you relay on your body to do it, when each inhale made your aching muscles hurt just a bit more? You were scared that, if you were to stop consciously thinking about it, you would just stop.

Most of the days were good. It wasn’t like anything really triggered this. You had a stable, sometimes crazy family, you had friends, you had good grades, you had an amazing boyfriend. A groan ripped from your throat as you remembered Bokuto. Just yesterday, you had waited for him to finish practice, and the two of you went for some ice cream and walked around the city endlessly, the talk and laughter never stopping. Bokuto always had a way to make you smile and laugh. He was like a sun, that’s how you would describe him. Ball of energy and happiness, sometimes just his appearance was enough to brighten the room and lift everybody’s mood.

You were not shy, but certainly not as boisterous and extroverted as he was. People called you friendly, someone they could talk to so easily about their problems, and appreciated your calmness. But you only had a handful of friends, and your ideal Friday night was never going out for a party or doing something crazy, it was cuddling up in a blanket with a good book or a good movie, or perhaps, if inspiration hit you, your laptop, fingers typing furiously as words flew at the speed of million miles per hour in your head, making it hard to catch each one of them, making you shudder and squeal in excitement as an interesting moment arrives.

So why you? Why did someone like Koutarou pick you? You heard people wondering in the hallways, and those questions always swirled in your mind. One night, as you two sat on the roof of his house watching the clear sky, you decided to ask him that.

“You bring me peace,” he said, without an ounce of hesitation, like it is something that was obvious. “With you, I don’t have to pretend, I don’t have to hold back. You accept me, the way I am, and support me with so much passion- you don’t have to jump and yell for me to know that, I see it. You know me, inside and out, and accept me and love me. And that is something I would never give up.” He took your hand, bringing it up to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, before pulling you even closer. “Now, tell me, who gives the constellations their names, I just don’t see it. Can you show me again?”

With him, things felt right, they felt real. He never hesitated to show you or tell you just how much you mean to him. Never. That amount of unwavering stability and certainty was refreshing and something you needed so much. He made it hard not to trust him. He was always there to listen, always there to hear you out and try to help you.

But this, this was something you have yet to show him.

Truth to be told, it was worse before him, when this painful loneliness would swallow you whole and it hurt to move, and to breathe. When the hopelessness would wrap its cold boney hand around your throat and make your heart beat like a scared bird trapped inside a cage. When it all seemed hopeless and worthless, when you felt so exhausted and cold and alone, so worthless and good for nothing.

Everybody had insecurities, but yours have been taking control over you for a big part of your life, so much they would incapacitate you and cage you to the bed to wallow in your tears and fear. On days like these, you were afraid to go to the kitchen, scared of what might happen if you got a hold of a knife, scared of not being able to stop that same fear and hopelessness from doing something you knew you did not want to do.

Depression is a silent killer. It sneaks under your skin, and starts off as a few bad thoughts, which then turn into bad days and then into a whole week. It never helped your parents worked long hours and you were constantly alone at home. You tried to hide it, and even managed to control it for some time, forcing yourself to engage into club activities, going out, anything just to keep your mind busy and occupied. You even got a gym membership and went with Koutarou often, hoping that dealing with your body and making sure you were as healthy as one can be physically would improve your mood.

But then, slowly, everything just stopped bringing joy. You dropped club activities, one by one, stopped going out, started skipping workouts. Your concentration was barely there most of the days, and your grades took a spill down. The fear of failure was there- if there was something you were always good at, it was academics, but now, it seemed you were bad at it too.

A sob tore from your throat as you curled deeper into yourself, shaking despite not being cold. What did he see in you? You were good for nothing. You were hopeless, with no future ahead of you.

In the darkness of the room, your phone lit up. Without even looking, you knew it was Koutarou. It had to be the morning now, and you didn’t show up at school. He would usually wait for you at the gate to kiss you good morning and then walk you to your class, but you didn’t show up. You were thankful for the thick curtains you had, because you couldn’t face a sunny day, not in this mood.

In school, Bokuto’s mind was racing. The first period already started, and you weren’t there. Akaashi had dragged him into his classroom, but Bokuto asked your friends to text him if you showed up. Has he done something? Said something? Last night was so fun, with the two of you eating ice cream and then buying bread to feed the ducks at the pond, and when he left you at home and kissed you good night, you seemed fine. Should he have seen something? Was he missing some signals? The two of you had a very open communication, and never hesitated to speak about problems or let the other one know just how much they loved them. Were you sick? Were you hurt? Did you not love him anymore?

He wanted to run to your house so bad as the day went by, but he couldn’t miss another class, as another tardy or skipped class would end in him not being able to take exams and, consequently, not be able to play volleyball. His worry grew throughout the day, especially since you never even opened all the messages he sent. Your friends said you were probably having a headache so you skipped school, that he shouldn’t worry about it, but he knew you. You were the type of person to come to school with a fever, a headache would not stop you.

By the time it was his practice, he barely could jump, and if he did, he would miss the ball, or spike bad, and yet he could not even go further into a low mood, too worried about you to pout about missed spikes and tosses. It was so hard for anything to get done that Akaashi just suggested that they should end the practice, and the brunette could say with certainty that he had never seen Bokuto bolt out of the gym so fast.

Bokuto knew he had to see you. It was the only thing he knew. He changed quickly and made a quick dash to your house, only stopping by a convenience store to buy some candy, things he knew always cheered you up. Upon arriving at your house, he noticed all the blinds were closed, so he dialed your number again, wondering if you even were in the house. When you didn’t pick up again, he knocked a few times, barely able to stand in one place while he waited for you, but you never came. When ten minutes passed and you still hadn’t opened the door, he looked around, reaching under a plant to grab the spare key, letting himself into your house. He hated doing this, but his gut was telling him something was wrong and his gut was never wrong.

The house was dark, as you hadn’t opened any blinds, which was something he knew you did first thing in the morning. He took off his shoes and dropped his bag, calling your name softly. As he climbed up the stairs, he froze when he heard soft whimpers and sobs. Without thinking, he dashed to your room, expecting to see you hurt. And upon pushing your door open, he saw that you were hurt, but not in the way he immediately assumed.

Your eyes snapped open when the door pushed open, widening once you saw Bokuto there. “B-bo, what are you doing here?” you stuttered, and the heartbroken expression on his face not helping how you felt.

“You didn’t come to school and you weren’t answering anybody’s texts and I got worried something happened,” he said, approaching the bed slowly, kneeling before you and taking your hands. Your flushed, tear-stained face made his heart clench deeply. He had never seen you look like this. He had seen you upset, but this, this was another level.

You took a deep, shaky breath and sniffled. “I-I am sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you,” you said, wiping some tears away with your fist.

“Did something happen, baby?” his voice was soft, barely above a whisper, his brows furrowed slightly as worry flashed through his golden eyes. More tears gathered in your eyes and you whimpered, but you shook your head. You knew you couldn’t explain it, not now.

His heart broke when he saw how sad you were. He wished he could do something to take it all away, make it so he was the one in pain. He could take it, and even if he couldn’t, he would suffer if it meant you were okay.

He squeezed your hands slowly, hoping to bring your attention to him. “What do you need me to do? Do..” he stopped, biting his lip, “do you want me to leave?” He couldn’t leave after seeing you like this, but he would if you needed it.

You shook your head frantically, the thought of him leaving now making another cold wave of loneliness wash over. “No, please don’t leave me,” you sobbed, unable to hold back the tears anymore, “Don’t leave me alone, please.”

Bokuto didn’t need you to tell him another word. He used one hand to loosen his tie and unbutton the first few buttons of his uniform before he crawled into the bed with you, leaning against the headboard and pulling you between his legs, letting you rest against his chest. His strong arms held you tight, rubbing soothing circles in your back as you sobbed. Each one broke his heart a little more, but he stayed strong. You needed him to be strong, so he would be.

He didn’t know how long you two stayed like that. He kept rubbing your back, kissing your hair, forehead, temple, cheek, hand, shoulder, anything he could reach, telling you that he was right here, that he loved you, that he wasn’t leaving you, ever. You cried, and would sometimes calm down, and he even managed to lull you into sleeping, the deep circles beneath your usually sparkling eyes making him feel bad for not running over sooner, volleyball and missed exams be damned.

After some time, he gently tilted your head up, fingers curling under your chin. He smiled softly, kissing your eyes and cheeks and forehead. “Would you feel up to some food, maybe? I promise I will stay here the whole time, but we need to get some food in your tummy,” he said, and though you did not feel like eating, you knew you had worried him enough, so you nodded.

Effortlessly, he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and laying a few kisses along your shoulder as he brought you downstairs, grabbing the food he bought before sitting you down on the kitchen counter and pouring you a glass of water, which you drank thankfully. He didn’t know much in the kitchen, but he knew how to make a mean sandwich, so he did just thank, swearing to himself to make the best one yet.

The two of you ate in silence, you on the kitchen counter and Bokuto between your legs, close enough to soothe you and far away enough so you could eat in peace. Once you ate as much as you could, he pecked your cheek, telling you how proud he was of you, before putting the dishes away and washing them up quickly.

“I love you.”

The words fell from your lips before you could stop them, but seeing him like this, after all of this, your heart warmed.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around, smiling widely.

“I love you more, baby. I am sorry for breaking in,” he said, wiping away his hands and coming up to you.

You shook your head. “No, Bo, it is my fault, I shouldn’t have worried you like this, I just… couldn’t help it,” you said softly and looked down at your knees. Your cheeks warmed when he kissed your forehead.

“You don’t get to apologise, okay?” he asked, bending down a bit to meet your eyes.

You nodded, and bit your lip. A deep sigh. Here we go.

“I am depressed. I didn’t get an official diagnosis, but that is it. It’s a family thing, a lot of women on my dad’s side of the family have it, and on days like these, I find it hard to breathe,” you said, your voice shaky, but your eyes were not tearful. “Everything just becomes too hard, and I feel so hopeless and worthless and alone. It is not that I am ungrateful for what I have, I love you and my friends and family, but everythinig has been getting so hard, and too much. I have been almost failing my classes and I have been missing our workouts and I have no energy for anything.”

Bokuto listened carefully, nodding along.

“Have you talked to your family about this? Do you think that maybe seeing a doctor could help?” he asked carefully, not wanting to cross a line or offend you.

“I haven’t, they are just so busy and I don’t want to bother them,” you admitted and Bokuto nodded.

“I am not the smartest person in the world,” he shushed you when you opened your mouth to speak,” and I don’t know much about depression, but what I do know is that you mean the absolute world to me. You are the brightest star in my life. You are so charming, so sweet, so grounded and the most supportive person I have ever met. If there is anyone in our school who makes it big, it’s you. Do you know how smart you are? How funny you are? How stunningly beautiful you are? Do you know how much of a better person you make me, every day? You are supportive and caring and so damn beautiful, every single thing about you is beautiful, and I hate to see you in pain. Thank you for trusting me with this. Thank you for letting me see you like this. I promise I will stay by your side, okay? We don’t have to talk, I will be here, just holding you. Or we can talk, whatever you want, we can do. A lot of things are uncertain and life is tricky, but I promise to stay by your side, and I will remind you how much I love you every single day, just like you do to me. And when it gets hard to breathe, I will be here, breathing with you,” he smiled softly, his thumb caressing your cheek before he brought you in for a hug, and this time, the tears streaming down your face were those of happiness.

This didn’t make things magically better, and you knew one hell of a dark, taunting road was ahead of you. But with your little sun by your side, holding your hand, it certainly seemed possible.

[marvelslut16]

A helping hand

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader

Synopsis:(Y/N)’s younger sister is part of the party. so what happens when she witness’s Billy getting hit when she goes to pick Max up and then when he arrives bloody and bruised on her doorstep two days later? Will she help him and let him in on her life before Hawkins, or will her hatred for him make her turn him away? Takes place between seasons 2 and 3.

Word count: 2602

Warnings: First (and possibly only) time writing for Billy, so he’s pretty OOC. Swearing. Abuse. Neil being the grade a asshole that he is. Talk of domestic violence. Angst?

“Stay in the car, I’ll be back in a minute,” you turn around to face your little sister, Carol, who’s sitting in the back seat flipping through the pages of her seventeen magazine.

“Okay,” she glances up at you. “We’re supposed to be at the arcade in ten minutes, we can’t be late.”

She’s frantic that she’ll be late and upset Dustin. “Ah, young love,” you tease her as you step out of the car, catching the last seconds of her sticking her tongue out. Carol and Dustin had been friends their entire life, and she’s been in love with him for almost as long. 

You make your way to the front door of the Hargrove house, you’re here to pick up Max and drop the two off at the arcade to meet up with the rest of the party. It was a cold and snowy January in Hawkins, so the kids obviously couldn’t ride their bikes or skateboards. As you get closer to the door, you swear you can hear the hushed tone of someone yelling at their kids. You ignore the uneasy feeling rising in your stomach and knock on the door. 

Susan Hargrove answers the door with a fake smile plastered on her face. You’re about to greet her when you hear shouting coming from down the hall. “You’re just a worthless fucking faggot Billy,” you hear a male voice bellow, you make eye contact with Max over her mothers shoulder. She looks embarrassed, which makes a deep frown appear on your face. This must be normal. “You’re too busy staring at yourself in the mirror that you can’t drive your sister to the arcade, you make some girl come out of her way to get Maxine.” Billy and his father are now in your line of sight, but blocked from your sister's view because of your frame.

Before you can assure them that it’s no problem and that it was actually on the way Billy mumbles, “she’s not my sister.”

“We’ve already talked about this,” his father seethes. “You need to learn respect and responsibility.” As the last word leaves his lips the sound of flesh on flesh resonates in the air. 

It takes you half a second to realize that Neil’s hand is in the air and Billy’s face is turned away from the door. The smack happened so fast that you almost missed it. A small gasp leaves your lips, reminding everyone that you just witnessed their dark secrets. Billy’s blue eyes snap to yours as they seem to glow in rage, but towards you and not his father. There’s also a sadness deep within those angry eyes, a sadness that only someone who can relate can see. 

Max is frantically pulling on her red winter coat, trying to get out of the house as fast as humanly possible. 

“I’ll have Max home by eight,” you give Susan a sad smile. “I have to go shopping, but then I’ll be at the arcade with the kids for the rest of the time. And really, it was no bother picking her up, Max and Carol get along great.”

“Bye mom,” Max mumbles as she pushes her way out the door and towards your car. Susan gives you one last sad smile, and your eye’s briefly flick to Billy who looks like he’s about to break something, before the front door closes. 

As you walk away you can hear Neil’s voice pick back up, there’s a part of you that wants to cry for the poor broken boy on the other side of that door. But it’s Billy, the bully, the new king of Hawkins High. The Billy that goes around tormenting Steve, and the one that makes fun of the nerdy kids. No, you wouldn’t cry for him. He’s just as bad as his father. 

Max and Carol talk and laugh the entire way to the arcade. Max pretending nothing happened, and Carol none the wiser to what goes on in the Hargrove house. Carol is impatient and practically jumps out to the car before it stops moving, five minutes late from when she promised Dustin she would be here. Max is slower, almost like she’s at war with herself on whether to say anything or not.

“Max,” you say as she slides a foot out the door. “If it’s ever too much and you need somewhere to stay for a night, our door is always open. No questions asked and no one has to know.”

“Thanks,” she says quietly before following your sister into the arcade.

When you drop Max off later that night Billy’s Camaro is nowhere to be seen.

--

At school the next morning you feel a tight grip around your wrist as you’re walking down the hall to first period. Before you can properly react you’re spun around and engulfed in the strong scent of cologne and cigarette smoke. You’re once again greeted by Billy’s angry blue eyes as he pulls you into a secluded corner. 

“Let go of me,” you glare at him, yanking your wrist away from him. Taking a few steps back, wanting as much space between you and him as you could get. Billy looked angry, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be on the receiving side of that anger. 

“I don’t want your pity and you best not say anything to anyone about what you saw yesterday (Y/L/N),” Billy threatens. Even though it’s the middle of January Billy still only has half of his shirt buttoned. His chest muscles visibly flexing with his erratic angry breathing. 

“Why the hell would I say anything? Just so you can deny it before beating me to a pulp like you did to Steve? I’ll pass,” your eyes narrow at the bad boy. “And I sure as hell don’t fucking pity you. Yeah, you’re life sucks, Neil sucks. But you choose to be just like him. Abused or not, that’s no excuse to become the bully Hargrove. A bad life doesn’t give you the excuse to be a shit person. And you could try to be nicer to Max, while she may not be the one getting hit, living in a toxic home is just as terrible.”

Billy takes a step back, like you’ve burned him. His face holds a faint trace of sorrow, good. Maybe he’ll be knocked down a peg or two. Out of the corner of your eye you see Steve shoot you a weird look as his eyes land on you and his enemy. 

“Harrington,” you call as Steve walks passed you and Billy. He stops and turns around, raising an eyebrow when his eyes flick to your company. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Studying for our calculus test,” he watches you intently as you step closer to him, still wondering why you were with Billy. 

“The kids are coming over to watch the new Indiana Jones, do you want to join us? We can study after the movie, I love Harrison Ford too much to actually miss the movie,” you laugh softly. “Plus my parents left this morning, so I’m babysitting seven hormonal middle schoolers alone, please save me.”

“You’ll be fine,” Steve laughs at your over dramatic attitude. 

“Half of them are dating each other, and then my sisters crush on Dustin, I can’t handle all that drama on my own,” you whine as you start to walk down the hall. “Plus it's free pizza, popcorn, and all the ice cream you can eat. And a new episode of Saturday Night Live when the kids fall asleep” You bat your eyelashes at your friend and co parent to the party. 

“Fine,” he sighs reluctantly. “But Hargrove better not be there.”

 “Like he’d ever show up,” you laugh as you run down the hall as the warning bell sounds. 

--

Before you know it, it’s Saturday afternoon and you’re surrounded by kids. Susan dropped Max off first, and the poor woman couldn’t look you in the eyes. And that fact that Billy, who according to Max always takes her places, wasn’t the one dropping her off made you slightly worried. 

You’re about twenty minutes into the movie and throwing popcorn at Steve when there’s a hesitant and irregular pounding on your front door. “Stay here,” you tell the kids. Steve follows a few steps behind you.

 You’re greeted by Billy’s bruised face when you open the door. He has a bruised and swollen eye that pairs with his split lip. Dried blood on his chin and drops on his white shirt. 

“Oh my God, Billy,” you breathe. Your body works without your brains help, and you gently grab his wrist and pull him into your house. 

“I know you said the door was always open for Max,” his voice hoarse, almost like he was in a screaming match earlier. His right arm wrapped tightly around his torso. “Do ya think you can make an exception for me?” Max joins the three teens when she hears Billy’s voice, her face falls slightly at the sight of his condition. 

“Steve, Max, why don’t you guys go back to the movie. Billy, let’s go get you cleaned up,” you grab his hand and gently pull him towards the stairs. Steve goes to protest, but Max pulls him away with her. 

“What happened?” you ask after you shut the bedroom door behind you, running to the bathroom to get a wet washcloth. Billy remains silent as he watches your concentration face as you lightly dab at his split lip.

“I was working out too loudly, then I accidently spilled his beer,” Billy won’t look you in the eyes. 

“We graduate in a few months and then you’ll be free,” you interject optimistically. 

“You know I’ll never change, right?” Billy says as he thinks back to what you said to him school.

“I think you can,” you sigh, grabbing some aspirin. “You just choose not to.”

“What do you know?” he snaps, blue eyes murderous. 

“More than you would think,” you deadpan, lifting his shirt to rest under his pecs. Boy was it hard not to just rip it off completely. 

“If you wanted me shirtless you just had to ask sweetheart,” Billy winks and seductively licks his lips. You inhale sharply, trying to ignore the rush of heat you feel throughout your body. Sure he’s hot, bet he’s a manwhore and an asshole. Don’t fall for it. Instead of verbally responding, you push on his ribs without warning and it’s his turn to inhale. “Shit!”

“They don’t feel broken or fractured,” you stare at the splotchy blue and purple bruises forming over his rib cage. 

“How would you know?” he asks through clenched teeth. 

“I have years of practice,” you hand him the aspirin and wait to talk until he swallowed the tablets. Were you really going to tell him this? “My dad, my birth one, used to toss me around like a rag doll. Carol got lucky, he liked her so he would never hurt her. But when he was mad at something she did he would just take it out on me twice as hard. I had to clean myself up when my mom would shut down, and I’d have to fight through the pain to check to see if anything was broken. One night it was so bad that I was unconscious on our kitchen floor when my mom and Carol got home. That’s the day my mom decided to leave him.”

“How old were you?” Billy’s face a mix of sadness and anger. 

“Younger than Carol and Max. We moved around a bit before finally landing in Hawkins,” you’re afraid to look in Billy’s eyes. Afraid to find that pity he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of. “I know you have a distaste for the town, I did too when I moved here my freshman year, but it’s the first place we stayed. It’s where my mom met my amazing stepdad, it’s home to some of us.”

“That’s why you offered Max a place to stay when it gets bad,” his voice softens as he stares at the side of your face.

“I had nowhere to go. Carol had nowhere to go,” you sigh. “I couldn’t let Max suffer through the same life we did.”

“I didn’t know,” he reaches forward and rest his fingers on top of yours. 

“No one did, you’re the only one,” you pull your fingers away from his to wipe a single tear away. “Carol doesn’t even know, the doctors say she’s blocking out the memories, that it was so painful her brain refuses to remember it.”

“I want to be better,” he refuses to look you in the eye, opting to pick at the corner of your comforter instead. 

“And you can be, one step at a time Billy,” you gently place your hand on his shoulder He finally looks up at you, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It’s why I said you could change, be better. I’m nothing like my father, and I know you're strong enough to be better than yours.”

“Will you help me?” he sounds so vulnerable and defeated. So broken.

“Of course, as long as you’re actually trying.”

Thank you,” he lays down on your bed, pulling the sheets up over him.

“Do you like Saturday Night Live?” you ask as you walk to your door,

“I love it,” he gives you a lopsided smile you’ve never seen before. 

“Cool. Get some sleep, and you can join Steve and me when it’s on tonight.”

“Anything for you sweetheart,” he shoots you a lazy wink. 

“And Billy? You owe me big time,” you put on a fake scowl as you look into Billy’s tired blue eyes. “You made me miss shirtless Harrison Ford.”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, but doesn’t say anything. He’s too caught up in the way the bed smells like your floral perfume, and the strawberry shampoo that you use. He takes a deep breath, deeply inhaling your scent, trying to memorize it. To memorize the smell of safety and home. His eyelids grow heavy and he drifts off to sleep, wondering what changing would mean for the two of you.

“Where is he?” Steve immediately jumps up from the couch when you walk back into the living room.

“Upstairs sleeping off some pain meds,” you send hi a warning look. “Now how much did I miss?”

“Harrison is making out with the blonde chick,” Lucas says through a mouthful of popcorn.

“Well that narrows it down,” you laugh lightly. 

“They’re giving the stone back to the village,” Carol adds. You let out a long sigh as you realize you missed almost the entire movie. You give Max a small smile, hoping that it conveys to her that Billy is alright. 

“When’s Hargrove leaving?” Steve asks annoyed. 

“He’s actually gonna watch SNL with us tonight,” you meet Steve’s angry eyes. “He promised to help make french toast in the morning.” That may have been a lie, but Steve doesn't need to know that. But something tells you that you’ll be able to convince him to help. 

“So when are we gonna order pizza?” Carol cuts in, wanting to cut the tension. 

“In a little,” you promise, as you sit down to enjoy the last few moments of Harrison Ford. 

An hour and a half later, when the pizza’s on it’s way, you go upstairs to wake up Billy. “Don’t let me down Billy,” you whisper to his sleeping form as you lean against your door frame.

Part 2: Too much

Forever tags:  @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny​

[redrobin-detective]

crazy au story: izuku isn't treated like crap by the adults and doesn't get reprimanded as much for actually saving people or doing his best as he at least tries. Also he gets the much needed therapy before he kills himself.

This kinda ended slightly off topic but i found it interesting

x

Not all men were created equal, Izuku has known that his entire life. Hundreds of years ago, small populations of people all over the world developed unique powers called quirks. Shunned by the normal majority, the quirked became targets of cruelty and abuse. Most were funneled into demeaning, slave-like jobs with no choice in the matter. 

“Midoriya, you’ve gotten another acceptance into a prestigious high school. Nagasaki Technical School would be a great fit for you, that makes, what? Nine schools that have waived entrance exams to accept you? Simply marvelous.”

“Thank you, sir,” Izuku beamed. He couldn’t deny he had it good. Izuku was the star student of the school, a member of multiple after school programs and even involved in several studies of the quirked population. He’s just gotten a third essay published in a scientific journal. Mom wanted to frame it but they were running out of room on the wall. “I’m very grateful for NTS’s interest in me but you know I’ve already made up my mind where I’m going to high school.”

“Don’t tell me, you’re still thinking of applying to Yuuei? That’s the school for the quirked freaks not for brilliant young students who will go onto to successful, lucrative careers.” 

“I want to be a hero,” Izuku said sternly, not letting his glance stray over to the isolated desk in the far corner of the room. “No matter what people say, the  heroes and quirked people in general do great work that I want to be apart of. I’m hoping as the first non-quirked hero, I can help bridge the gap betwe-” The school bell rang, signaling the end of the day. His teacher merely rubbed at his eyes as the class started snatching up their bags.

“Midoriya, it’s time you let go of your silly childhood dreams and started being realistic. You have potential, don’t waste it.” That said, the man grabbed his things and strode out of the room.

“Why the hell do you want to go to Yuuei, Izuku-kun?” Nami said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Being in a school filled with freaks who have no future? Bad enough we’ve have to deal with Bakugou in our class. Go to a nice normal school away from the freaks.”

“Kacchan’s not a freak,” Izuku defended harshly, “he’s my best friend and we’re going to be amazing heroes together.”

“Deku, shut up, I don’t need you defending me,” Kacchan said quietly from his lonely section of the classroom. He used to be so loud, so vibrant. But any potentially aggressive offense was put in his file. Another complaint and Kacchan would be locked away, never to be seen again.

“Kacchan,” Mayomo scoffed gathering his bags. “You should’ve dropped that piece of trash the moment he revealed himself as a freak with those exploding hands of his.” He walked past Kacchan’s desk and slapped his notebooks out of his hands before walking all over them. “How about this you explodofreak, why don’t you take a high dive off the roof and think about becoming normal in your next life?”

“Mayomo, that is out of line, I’m reporting you!” Izuku threatened as he jumped out of his seat to help Kacchan grab his things. 

“Yeah I’m sure that’ll work as well as all the other reports you’ve sent in,” Mayomo rolled his eyes. “You’re too cool to waste time on trash, see ya when you feel like hanging with real people.” 

“Asshole,” Izuku cursed as he neatly set Kacchan’s books back on his desk. “Don’t listen to them Kacchan, they just want to get a rise out of you. In a few months, we’ll be out of this dump and be among the greats at Yuuei.” Stars formed in Izuku’s eyes at the thought. “All those powers, the unique biologies, imagine all the good we’ll be able to- Kacchan?” 

But his friend had already shoved his books in his bag and was storming out the door, away from Izuku. Izuku grabbed his bag and chased after.

“Hey come on, wait up,” he said, trailing after his friend. He had other friends in the school, people from club but none came close to the kinship he’d found with his first friend. Kacchan surprise developing a quirk despite no family history hadn’t swayed Izuku in the slightest. 

“Stop Deku,” Kacchan said harshly before his voice mellowed out, sounding exhausted. “Just.... stop.”

“S-stop what?”

“Stop pretending!” He hissed, spinning to face Izuku with burning red eyes. “I’m the one being forced into the quirked school. Yuuei might be the top of the shitpile but it’s still nothing compared to all those schools begging to have you. I don’t have a choice, you do. Don’t fuck it up.” 

“I’m not,” Izuku emphasized, clutching at the straps of his backpack. “I want this Kacchan, it-it’s not just about you. I want to help people, I think quirks are amazing and what people say about them is wrong. I want to change that.”

“You can’t change the way the world works no more than I can stop my explosions,” Kacchan said wearily, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Izuku hasn’t seen Kacchan use his quirk in so long; he remembered the early days how happy using his power had made him. Izuku wanted to give Kacchan that love back, make every person see how amazing these quirks were.

“Everyone loves All Might,” Izuku wobbled using his familiar defense. 

“Yeah well I’m not fucking All Might,” Kacchan said with an eye roll. “The only reason All Might is treated so well is because his quirk is so goddamn powerful he could wipe everyone out if he wanted. Face the facts, Deku. I’m a worthless freak who’s gonna die two years out of high school because the government doesn’t care about our safety. Go to one of those fancy high schools, save the world,” he turned and walked away slowly, shoulders slumped. “Just don’t fucking forget me, that’s all I ask. You’re the only friend I got.”

“Kacchan,” Izuku whined softly but let his friend go. It hurt so much to see him like this but like he said, Izuku couldn’t change the stupid opinions of the whole world. Was it better to do as Kacchan said? Do what was expected of him and be an upstanding citizen? Or did he follow Kacchan and his heart and become the first non-quirked hero? Mulling over the decision Izuku crept home to his proud mother and a wall full of empty accomplishments.