Ochako Bashing - Tumblr Posts
And She Cried When The Sun Came
Fandom: Bnha / Mha
Pairing: Bakugo x Reader
Rating: 16+
Words: 951
Warnings: Major Character Death, Angst, Coping, OOC Uraraka, several references to sex, swears, sl*t shaming
A/n: A self indulgence angst, cringe in a way but it’s what I wanted
Remastered: Aug.9 2022
“Hey Y/n-- It’s me again. Izuku. Just uh, well, just wanted to say we’re still thinking about you. I know it’s really hard but we’re here for you. That’s all-- see you soon.”
“Hi Y/l/n, this is Yaoyarozu. I just wanted to let you know we’re all here for you. Call if you need anything.”
“Y/n!” Ashido cheered, “Let’s go out tomorrow! I hate thinking about you all alone in that huge condo of yours. Let me know!”
“Hey Y/n...This is Shoto. I know it’s hard but It’ll get better. I swear.”
“Y/n, get your cute little ass out of that apartment! Katsu wouldn’t want this. If I know my son, he’d throw a bitch fit if he saw you sulking. Come to dinner with me, my treat. I love you, sweetheart.”
Y/n stayed on her couch, covered in about three blankets wrapped carefully as a cocoon to shield her. She didn’t exactly know what she was shielding herself from, but she knew she needed protection.
Her answering machine read out these messages multiple times a day, all from people who knew her fiance.
“Don’t listen to those extras,” Bakugo scoffed, leaning against the wall across from her, “take your time princess.”
"Shut up." She rolled onto her side, facing the cushions, "what do you know? You're dead."
He faded away, like he always did. The first time Katsuki appeared in their home he was looking out the window and Y/n started to cry-- when he vanished she broke down into messy sobs. Now, her cold eyes were hardened. And she was numb, so very numb.
Three knocks resonated through her apartment, stirring her from the comatose state which rolled over her in waves after a sleepless night.
“Y/n, sweetie? It’s Uraraka and Izuku!”
“Y/n, we brought some food over.”
She didn’t move. She couldn’t move.
“Y/n?”
“It’s okay! We’ll just leave it at the door for you.”
Time moved on, and eventually, his name vanished from the tabloids. Memorial candles burnt out, food spoiled, and the memory of Ground Zero slowly faded away into a hazy fever dream.
To her credit, Y/n did put in an honest effort to move on. Truly, she did what every therapist, self-help book, pretentious podcast told her to. She cleaned herself up, took regular showers, ate health, redecorated some, contacted her old friends, did everything she could.
But no book could tell her how to handle the nights she laid alone, shivering in the bed that used to be so full. No motivational speaker could tell her what to do when she turned to look at her husband and find nothing there. What to do when she's walking down the street and her hand keeps flexing because it's so use to being held that the air feels forighn in her palm. Everything felt so empty now. Her apatite was large yet unsatisfactory, her joy felt superficial, even the pain inside felt lacking.
So she did what anyone would do.
“Your place or mine?” Y/n whispered against the lips of a new stranger, eyes locked up with theirs while tugging her lip between her teeth.
And don't you dare blame her for it.
She loved when they said “Mine,” getting to go somewhere else, be someone new. She loved being a person who wasn’t destroyed over Bakugo Katsuki.
But when they said “Yours,” she still took them home. She peeled off the layers of clothes piece by piece until they were both naked and yet completely covered from one another.
There was her line.
Her body was free for her to give, to use in any way that brought her comfort. Her soul however, belonged only to Katsuki. She’d lay bare for no one but him.
When it got around the group that Y/n had been leaving behind a string of one night stands, it was a mixed reaction. Some nodded in understanding, others closed their eyes in a disappointing acceptance. A few, though, were disgusted.
“How could you do this to him?”
When Ochaco came to her door Y/n was surprised. They hadn’t spoken directly ever, and she only visited with Midoriya by her side, never alone like this.
“What did I do?”
Her face contorted, eyes narrowing into a hateful glare-- “Bakugo loved you and this is how you repay him?”
Y/n’s face returned to a hazy state of numb nonchalantes.
“You sleep around with the entire region? Talk about loyalty.”
A moment of silence passed between them.
"I mean come on! At least give him the courtesy of a year with your legs closed do we can pretend you gave a shit about him! He was my friend!"
“I’ll give you five seconds to leave before I call security to drag you out.”
“What’s the matter with you?”
Her straight lips broke into a snarl-- “Fuck you,” she took a step back. “Fuck you and your ‘I brought you food!’ Fuck you and your ‘Sweetie!’ Fuck you and the fake ass sympathy, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!”
Blood fell from her palm, where nails had pierced through the skin. “You don’t have the right to tell me how to cope! You don’t get to have a fucking opinion, Uraraka! You don’t get to! You’re fucking husband is alive and well, a hero loved by everyone who’s gonna go down in history as the most overpowered saint to fucking live, so fuck off! You have no clue what it’s like!”
She scoffed, “Obviously it’s not affected you as much as you like to pretend it did.”
Her hand flew of its own accord, striking the hero in front of her.
“I don’t owe you an explanation.” She shook her head, letting her anger die in her throat and suffocate the words that came with it. Y/n’s face returned to a passive state, “I don’t owe you anything.”
The door closed between them, and she never saw the floating hero again.
Bodies still moved against her own, when the nights were too cold. She still grasped on to as much heat as possible, still let people she didn’t know into their her home. And still, tears watered her pillow when the sun came up on another day without him in it.
So yes, time still moved on without the past number two hero; but Y/n didn’t.