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httpscomorg · 2 months ago

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Crisis

Summary: You’re not exactly living your best life. Your dad is making it only worse and reek of hell. Luckily, you’ve finally accepted this isn’t the life you’re willing to live.

Parings: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Not in this chapter)

Warnings: Abuse, murder, gore, sex trafficking, child trafficking, self harm, implication of rape and other non-con sexual mentions, but nothing specific. Self harm is described in detail, and the gore is also. So please read at your own risk. (Individual warnings per chapter, Y/N is depicted as 19)

Word Count: 4845 (Find all chapters here) CH2

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments. This is a SAFE SPACE where we listen and we don't judge. (I do not proof read my writing, sorry if there's spelling mistakes)

Your dad would be out for the rest of the night on a work trip. He left three days ago, maybe four, and you dreaded having him back, but you also missed having someone else in the house that kept you safe. He’d be home for a week or two, a month at most, then he would have something come up where he’s just gone for more than one day at a time. And at those times, you take advantage of having fun.

You work two days a week, having college on the weekdays from AM to PM. Sometimes though you get lucky and have a few shorter shifts at the coffee place you work at with your best friend, Tiffany. But this week, with your dad gone for a few days, you managed to get a few days off of school, figuring you’d finish some of the assignments at home when you settle down, and turn the papers and work in as soon as possible.

Over the last three days, you and Tiffany have been going to parties, having fun at the amusement park close to home, and even went to a few festivals, and at the end of the day, you both stayed the night at your house. Which normally you can’t do, so you have to be careful, bringing her inside while avoiding the line of sight of the outside, and some inside cameras. Or your dad would be home sooner than tomorrow morning.

“Get the fuck up shit face!” Your friend throws a pillow at your head, getting on top of you and shaking you to wake up. You couldn’t even take the little nickname offensively. You were absolutely shit faced last night, and it shows on your face this morning. “We have a bunch of shit to do today. Ride some rides, get some ice cream…” She grabs your face and makes you look at her, your eyes opening her big brown eyes, her face already covered in makeup and fake freckles dotted over her dark skin. She was dressed and ready to go. “Maybe even ride some boys.” You laugh a little, you’re sure you look like absolute shit.

“Five more minutes.” Your voice, laced with a Russian accent, leaves your lips dryly. Fuck you were so thirsty. You sound like you have been doing karaoke all night, and the raspiness in your voice proves it.

“No! The boys are already here, come on, get dressed!” She hits you with the pillow one last time, then finally gets up off of you so you can sit up. Your body also feels like it has done karaoke all night. One thing is for sure, you weren’t excited to go back to classes tomorrow morning. “And don’t put on baggy clothes, we're gonna be getting wet!” You internally groan. You’re the only one that wasn’t exactly agreeing on going to the water section of the amusement park, but you needed to get out, so whatever works.

“Are we getting food?” You finally stand up, your body feeling like it was burning, you sort of half hoped the cold amusement park water would feel good. But the most painful thing settling on your body was your stomach, speaking Taiwanese for food.

“Micheal and Jessie and got donuts.” Tiffany throws two random pairs of clothes at you. Just a plain white shirt, and short black shorts. You were planning on wearing your black converse today anyways, so it matched, it also gave you a second to look down at yourself. Still wearing the ‘hippie attire,’ - Named by Tiffany - That you were to the party last night. A little flower imprinted on your stomach from the waist bead you were lying on.

You just get dressed in front of her. You two had been friends for years, so you felt more than comfortable around her. Not that you were self conscious, over the years of living the way you lived… You’d find it hard to believe you’re unattractive.

Once dressed, you grab your shoes, your phone, and your little black purse before leaving the house, keeping Tiffany out of the front door camera view as you both leave, also avoiding the one pointing at the driveway to get to the black truck parked in your front yard. The song “My Band,” by D12 fading out as Micheal, your gay bestie, turns it down.

“You both look like shit.” Jessie turns in his seat, his hand never leaving Micheals as he pulls away from your house to start driving.

“Jokes on you, I haven’t looked at myself today, so I don’t care.” You shoot back. “Have you looked at yourself? Did you even shower after falling in dog shit?” That makes Tiffany snort.

“I have that on video by the way, I have blackmail of you eating shit.” She says.

“I was dead drunk! And I fell!” He laughs, then looks at you. “For the record, yes, I showered, and brushed my teeth with bleach.” You roll your eyes.

“He’s not exaggerating by the way, he literally brushed his teeth with bleach and windex.” Micheal speaks up, taking a turn past the place you work.

“Yea see look.” Jessie smiles at you with his teeth, damn they were white.

“That's like… not safe.” You chuckle a little.

“You fall in dog shit and try to feel clean.”

“Okay, seriously, enough about dog shit, my stomach is eating itself right now.” Tiffany leans forward, grabbing Jessie's seat and shaking it.

“We had donuts.” He shrugs.

“Key word: Had. Jessie ate them all.” Micheal turns on his blinker, turning onto the highway.

“You motherfucker!” You yell a bit. “What’re we supposed to eat now!?” You groan, leaning back like you were defeated.

“I don’t know, my shirt from last night is still in the back of the truck in a bag, I’m sure there’s still dogshit on it.” With that, Micheal lets go of Jessie's hand and turns up the music, the original song over, with “She’s So Nice,” by Pink Guy playing now.

You all get to the park at around 11AM, and your stomach has progressed to speaking your home language, Russian. “Guys, seriously, if I don’t eat right now, Mickey Mouse is gonna be a snack.” You nod towards the Mickey Mouse actor in a big costume, walking over to his place to take pictures for the next thirty minutes.

“Okay, okay. We will eat first, then we can join the boys. Boys, go buy a lightsaber or whatever boys do.” Tiffany takes your hand, and Micheal and Jessies take each other, kissing before walking off.

“So what’s the plan? Do you have the ring?” You nudge her as you both walk over to a little Disney themed cafe, and she takes a ring box out of her pocket.

“Of course I have the ring. Should we ask Mickey or someone in the starwars place?” You both walk up to the front of the line. Damn you were lucky to choose a not as busy day.

“I think it would be funny if Chewbacca was in on it.” You look up at the menu, then order a normal powdered donut with icing and strawberry jam inside, Tiffany orders a chocolate one.

“So starwars?”

“Well, also, Mickey would be cute. Star Wars could just be funny.” You shrug, and pay for the order, which the donuts and bagged and handed over cold immediately.

You and Tiffany have been helping Micheal plan his proposal to Jessie for months. And today was finally the day. You were so happy for your friends. Tiffany was recently engaged, and now your two gay besties were gonna be. Yes, you were so excited for them, but you didn’t know what to do with yourself anymore. You were 19 and still living with your dad, supporting him and keeping the house clean while he was out for work. If you got a boyfriend and left him, you’re not sure what would happen, but it wouldn’t be good.

“Zhoom, zhoom.” You hear Jessie behind you, and the swing of air, when you turn around, both the boys are holding a lightsaber. “What do you think?” Jessie leans back on one foot, and holds the lightsaber like a sword.

“I think you look like Yoda.” Tiffany pats his shoulder, and you take a bite into your donuts at the same time.

“You and Micheal should go fight in front of Storm Troopers or something.” You tease, trying to lead them towards the Starwars area soon, and you give Micheal a look, but he laughs a little. “What? Is there something on my face?”

“Yes actually, I knew you were hungry but I didn't actually think you’d take a bite out of Mickey.” You roll your eyes, and look at yourself in a window, wiping some jam off of your face before sucking it off your thumb.

“What’re we doing first then?”

“I think we should do Star Wars last, do all the fun things first.” Tiffany shrugs, nudging Micheal, and he nods in understanding. “Me and Ms. Single are gonna go pee first, we can meet you guys over by the Marvel place.” You roll your eyes at the nickname, but agree with Tiffany. Of course, you two weren’t actually going to the restroom. Just needed to find an actor that’s willing to help with the proposal.

Hand in hand, donuts in your stomach, you both made your ways over to the area with Star Wars, there was a whole group of people, all taking pictures with storm troopers, a sign near them saying there would be a show later on.

“We’re like, one hundred percent positive Jessie is gonna say yes, right?” You look up at Tiffany and she nods. “You think we get them to do that at the end of the show?” You both stand there and stare, then she lets go of you.

“I’ll go ask the person that's watching them, you stay here.” She leaves you without another word, not sure why you weren’t going with her, but to be fair, you hated large crowds and knew she was just looking out for you.

Then you had sort of a panic moment, patting your thighs and pockets a bit aggressively and your heart drops a bit, your fucking phone. You left it in your purse at the cafe on the other side of the park- “Hey… You left this at the donut shop.” A hand and a soft voice, one you shouldn’t be able to hear over the volume of the place plus your ears ringing from the now stopped anxiety attack.

A man stands behind you, he’s wearing a red henley and black jeans, a black denim cap also on his head, helping hold together his man bun apart from little strands of hair peeking out from the front, some stubble on his cheeks, and he holds out your black bag with his left hand, the one hand covered with a glove.

“Oh shit- Thank you so much, I literally just noticed…” You take your purse from him, and search the contents inside, grabbing out your phone.

“Where’d your friend go?” He’s still there?

“Oh- She’s-”

“Right here!” You feel and arm go around your shoulders with a bit of weight to it. “What’s up?”

“Oh I just… I left my purse at the donut place by accident, and he found it.” You shrug, looking back at your friend who had a big smile on her face.

“You…” She squints a bit and then looks at the man. “Thank you, but respectfully… Why did you follow us around the park instead of just turning it in?” The man doesn’t say anything, and just before you try to speak on his behalf, he turns around and leaves.

“T-Thank you!” You shout after him, then snap your head at T who smiles again.

“I managed to get it to them. They said at the end of the show, Chewbacca is gonna come out and make a speech.” Your brain buffers for a moment.

“Can’t he not speak…?”

“He just kinda goes, ‘AAHH’ and then there's like subtitles or whatever, but someone is supposed to like… decipher it for us or whatever.” She crosses her arms.

“And they have the ring?”

“Yessss.”

“Awesome.” You sigh in relief, the plan was in place. But that relief leaves your body when you finally check your phone. Missed calls and texts from your dad. “Okay, so, slight problem.” You don’t show her your phone, but she already knows.

“It’s pretty quiet over there.” She points behind you at some grass where people were sitting and just watching the sky, waiting for the storm troopers to leave so they could get on a ride.

“Thanks…” You mumble, and quickly walk away, calling your dad as soon as you get over to an oak tree, and she was right, it was pretty quiet there.

“Why didn’t you answer me?” It sounded like a demand rather than a question. Your dad was pissed, and you weren’t ready for the aftermath just yet.

“Sorry dad, I woke up like an hour ago, and forgot where I left my phone last night. I found it in the couch cushions.” You kick at some dirt.

“You couldn’t hear the ringer?”

“I had it off.”

“You didn’t bother calling me from the house phone to let me know?”

“I didn’t know you were spamming me.” You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth.

“Are you working today?”

“No, I don’t feel good.”

“Why not?” You sigh, and you’re sure he hears it when he’s about to say something but you cut him off before he can even say anything.

“Damn it, my phone is about to die dad, I have to go, I didn’t get to charge it last night.”

“Okay, well I’ll call you on the-” You hang up abruptly, not wanting to hear another word from his voice, and you shove your phone back into your purse before going back over to Tiffany, which Jessie and Micheal joined at her side.

“Yea we got lost.” She shrugs, that was her excuse for why you were both at Star Wars right now. “And her dad called her.” She groans a bit then looks at you. “Are we okay? Do we need to call a SWAT team?” She teases, but it honestly might be true. Of course, you shrug off the comment with the roll of your eyes and shoving your hands in your back pockets.

“Who wants to get wet?”

You were right, the cold water did feel good on your body for some reason, and so did the little adrenaline rush from the drop of the bigger rides, definitely helped you forget the pain your libs were in. Not much for your head and panic though.

But hours pass. You all manage to spare a few rides without water to help dry you up, and your hair was an absolute mess. At some point you needed to just tie it up.

“So what’re we doing next? It’s getting late.” Jessie leans against Micheals side, and Tiffany huffs in a large breath of air before speaking.

“There is a show at the stormtrooper thing. I wanted to watch that.” You watch as Micheals face brightens up a bit.

“That would be so fun baby.” He kisses Jessie's head, and he looks up at Micheal.

“How long is it?”

“Who cares, it’ll be fun.” He shrugs, and stands up, then helps Jessie stand, and you all make your way over to the stadium.

“What’s it even about?”

“It’s a musical, stop asking questions.”

You don’t say anything, not wanting to ruin the moment obviously. But as the day went on and hours passed, with the sun now mostly set, you were slowly getting more and more anxious about going home. You know your dad said he wouldn’t be home until tomorrow morning, but something felt off, and you were usually right. But you didn’t wanna spoil your friend's proposal because your dad couldn’t be normal.

So the show goes on. There’s singing, dancing, laughing, and you try your hardest to just act happy. The show went on for an hour before some lights went white, and some stormtroopers cleared the stage. The Imperial March plays, and Darth Vader stands front and centre, then Chewbacca follows in behind him. Now, you’ve never watched the movies, but you were pretty sure Chewbacca and Darth Vader didn’t get along.

There’s a little speech from Darth Vader, and at some point you hear the audience awwing and cheering, along with your two friends leaving their seats, but your ears felt numb to sounds. You continue to watch of course, even as the buzzing in your eardrums gets louder and you start to feel really warm. And in the end when you hear everyone clapping, it was almost as if a switch was flipped, and you were back in the truck, sitting in the backseat and watching other cars drive by you. Your now engaged friends holding hands in the front seat, music playing quietly, and Tiffany was snoring next to you. It was almost as if you had passed out or just left reality, only just now waking back up.

“So what's the plan after dinner?” You hear Micheals voice, and take the opportunity to speak up, clearing your throat.

“Me and T will get an uber to my place. She wanted to stay the night again.” You stretch in your seat, and fuck it felt good.

“Are you feeling any better?” Upon further inspection, Jessie was also sleeping.

“Yea… Yea I feel fine. Sorry about uhm…” He cuts you off.

“You didn’t ruin anything. You just sorta…” He pauses, turning into a restaurant. “I guess dissociated for a little while there.” He chuckles a bit, and looks at you in the rear view mirror. You're biting your thumb nail and staring out the window.

“I feel fine… Thank you.”

After eating, you do just as you say. You get an uber back home with Tiffany.

A huge wave of relief settles over you when you don’t see your dads car in the driveway, and you both get out. Once again avoiding cameras and heading inside, into the warm house.

“Shit… I’m exhausted.” T collapses on the couch, and you pull off your wet shirt, leaving yourself in the black shorts and a lace bra.

“Me too… fuck…” You sigh, and grab a loose cardigan off of a chair, putting it on, crossing your arms for warmth as you walk over to the couch.

“When is your dad supposed to be home again?” She sits up, and you barely get your lips apart before another voice interrupts you.

“He’s already home.” You feel your heart drop, and your breath stops at your dads voice. Your hand absentmindedly clenching a pillow. You don’t even wanna look. You wish a plane would come crashing through a ceiling right now, only hitting you, but you just stare at Tiffany as she sits up quickly, eyes wide and on your dad before she stands up. And you close your eyes, pursing your lips before resting your face again and following after her.

“Dad!” You try to sound excited as he stands at the end of the stairs. Arms crossed with a pissed look on his face. Your hands at your front, picking at the skin around your nails nervously.

“Is that why you weren’t answering the home phone either? You’ve been out all day?” He takes a few steps towards you. He was breathing a bit heavily and you were prepared for whatever he had coming, but you knew he wouldn’t do anything with your friend here. At least, that’s what you thought. You’ve never actually introduced them before now.

“This is my friend, Tiff-”

“I don’t care. She needs to leave.” He cuts you off, and looks dead at your friend. Fuck…

“Excuse me? How about you stop being a dick?” Fuck… You knew she was gonna say something. Something stupid.

“I’m gonna show her out…” Your voice shakes, and you grab her arm, pulling her towards the front door but she holds still and your dad speaks up.

“No, I think she should stay.” He grabs your wrist and pushes you away by your chest, making you stumble a bit but you don’t bother trying to fight, he was two times your size and age. “She’d make me a hell of a lot of money, that's for sure. I know Henry is really good on sluts that act like brats.” He squares up a bit to Tiffany, and she does the same, but her face is written in disgust and a bit of fear now.

“Dad-” Then without warning, Tiffany punches him in the face, making your dad bleed a bit from his skin nicking on one of her rings. And you know it's over from there, but you try and help.

“No!” Your eyes widen, and you throw yourself at them as your dad easily tackles your bestfriend to the floor, your own hands grabbing at your dads shoulders, trying to rip him off but his hands keep flying at your friend. “Dad, stop!” You scream, tears now falling down your face, your nails scratching at his skin but he’s too strong and heavy, the elbow you get at your stomach proves it as you fly over the wooden floor, back hitting a wall. With another look at the two fighting, and the sound of a wet crunch, you know your friend is dead.

But you just sit there in silence for a moment, your dad still repeatedly punching at her face. Once beautiful now bashed in blood. Then you shakily stand up, not even wearing your shoes as you dart for the front door, the sound of your dads shoes slipping on some blood following you out but you don’t stop. Bare feet hitting the road's hard pavement, cold against your sore skin. You knew you wouldn’t be able to outrun in his work boots, but it was worth the try. Even if half a minute later, you were on the ground yourself, and he was on top of you. You were half surprised he was willing to catch you at night in your neighbourhood.

“You stupid bitch!” He growls, grabbing your hair and hitting your head against the asphalt once, twice. Your head spinning as you whine in pain. Then you feel his large hand grab one side of your head, pushing the other side against the concrete, and he growls more threats into your ear, something about listening to him and behaving, but your watery eyes are focused on something else. An elderly couple inside of their house, the woman peeking through the blinds and you can see she’s on the phone, but as soon as she sees you looking, she closes the curtain, and you zone back in on your dad who’s now picking you up, leading you back to the house with a chunk of your hair in his fist, leading you like you were a simple cook and he was a fucking rat.

As soon as the front door is open, he tosses you, and you fall to your knees but quickly stand back up, the body of your friend still on the floor, face unrecognisable. “Go clean up.” It's a demand, not a request, and you dart up the stairs and into your bathroom, locking the door. You half wanna tear out your hair in front of the mirror, scream about how much you hate your life, but you don't want another beating for being too loud. Instead, you listen. Cleaning yourself of blood and dirt, before checking the halls to make sure your dad isn’t there and darting for your room. But not even five minutes after you’ve calmed down a bit, you hear the doorbell, and you go quiet. Listening to the conversation at the front door.

“Good evening sir, sorry for bothering you so late at night. We got a report about some sort of disturbance from a concerned neighbour.” You feel like you recognise the voice, and you slowly start to leave your room, getting closer by hiding in the bathroom instead.

“This late at night? Probably just some teens out without parent permission.”

You roll your eyes, you swear if you just had the chance…”

“Is there anyone else in the home? Daughter, wife?”

“Daughter.”

“May we speak with her too?”

“Yes uhh…” You panic for a moment, but an idea pops into your head immediately. You were wearing a black hoodie now, loose on your body with different black shorts. So you stand on your toes, reaching for what you had above the mirror. “Archer!” You hear your fake name being called, the one your dad gave you in case someone was trying to take you. “Come here, these officers wanted to ask you some questions!” Your hand finds the sharp piece of glass, and you stand normally again.

“Okay! I’m coming!” You shout back, but before you do, you roll a sleeve up. Letting the edge of the shard dig into your skin before you pull back and let it slice open, blood immediately showing through your skin, which you quickly do two more times. Not bothering with how deep it was, or what it looked like. But as soon as the three cuts are in place, you leave the bathroom, pulling your sleeve back down, hoping the blood wouldn't leak down to your hand for your dad to see. But you had a plan.

“This here is my lovely daughter.” He wraps an arm around you once you stand next to him at the front door, and you can feel a cold blade pressed against your back.

“Hi, Archer. How’s it going?” You look up at the cop- no… He was something else. Dressed in straight up tactical gear. He was the man who returned your purse to you at the park. And you could tell by the smile on his face that he recognised you, but kept quiet.

“It’s good.” You answer simply, and the actual officer starts asking your dad questions again. That was your opportunity. While the agent was looking down at you, you pulled up your sleeve just slightly, acting as if you weren’t. Not even looking straight at him but you see him take two steps back, pressing a button on his radio and speaking into it.

“Sir, do you mind if we do just a quick inspection of the house?” The familiar face speaks again, his thumbs in his belt calmly, and your dad lets go of you, the both of you stepping aside to let him through. “A crisis team is on the way to pick up your daughter, but we need to do a thorough inspection of the home.”

“Now wait a minute.” Your dad puts his hands up. “You don’t have a warrant.”

“We don’t need one. The video evidence of you assaulting your daughter is enough to give us probable cause, and the injuries on her arms is enough for us to call a crisis.”

Your dad is silent as he looks at you, and you feel a drop of blood hit the floor. But you were more focused on your surroundings. The body of your friend was already gone. The mess cleaned like nothing happened.

“This is ridiculous.”

“Sir. We're gonna arrest you now. Use force and I have jurisdiction to fire on you.”

“James, you gonna wait here for the Crisis fuckers?” The actual officer speaks up to the man with the nametag “Barnes” on his uniform, and he looks over at you.

“Are you in fear of killing yourself?” He asks you bluntly, you could tell he wasn’t into the whole mental therapy thing. Shooting was his thing.

“No… I just… I did it to get attention…” You mumble, another drop of blood dripping onto the wooden floor.

“Okay. Then no.” Barnes looks back at the officer. “You take him in, I’m gonna go ahead and bring her to my office.” A single tear falls down your cheek and you sniffle. “I’ll get her to write up a statement or record one with her voice, then we’ll hold her until we get this figured out.” Barnes urges you over with two fingers, and he rolls up your sleeve. The cuts weren’t deep enough to do serious harm.

“Ezekiel White, you are under arrest for kidnapping, murdering, sex trafficking, child trafficking, assault, evading arrest, assault on in officer, holding illegal weapons, sexual assault, rape, and other charges. Anything you say can and will be used against you, with no chance of a lawyer due to proof of these crimes committed. You have the right to remain silent.” You hear his hand cuffs click. Then again, it’s like the world goes quiet. And everything goes blank…

(Spoiler for next chapter: There will be a lot more Bucky. This one just sort of introduces his job and whatnot, but the next chapter is gonna have him a lot more, I promise)

#bucky #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #winter soldier #white wolf #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfic #bucky x reader

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httpscomorg · 7 months ago

Note

Just came across your give me inspiration post and I’ve come to deliver 🫡

How about Bucky or Logan x naive reader? Well not really naive but sort of? Reader keeps making excuses for him and keeps brushing of the concerning things he does. Ex he keeps tabs on her he has to know where she is at all times or else he starts to FREAK out. He sabotages readers work or projects so that she will come to him for help. He even intrudes on her time with friends when reader says she’s going out he starts pouting and saying “I wish I had something to do. You should let me go with you. It will be fun they won’t mind”. Even their work place co workers mention it to reader but she just brushes it off saying “ oh he’s just a friend” or “he’s just lonely sometimes”. Basically he’s obsessed with reader and wants to be the only thing she thinks about and he will go to extreme measures to have her no MATTER what.

Hopefully that was good 🤷‍♀️ if it’s not feel free to ignore it lol it’s feels good to be back. I missed you 🫶

-love , S 💋

Barnes & Noble

Summary: Nothing goes right in your shitty life. Work, school, everything. It’s all shit. Until a worried friend finally looks out for you, and you have the best day you’ve had in probably years.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Professor!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Language, suicide, drugs, wounds, drinking, underage drinking, anxiety, panic, shit boss, shit mom, all that good stuff, (Individual warnings per chapter)

Word Count: 3408 (Find all parts here) Pt.2

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

AN: This is almost completely different from what you asked for, but to be fair, I don't plan what I write, I just let my brain and my fingers move however they feel like and if I process that something is bad, I delete it and refresh for a minute. But I think I'm back. And this will probably have three parts.

Lolly: Guess who’s throwing a party this weekend!

You: I’m assuming Trent?

Lolly: Ew no, I would not be excited.

You: You?

Lolly: Yea! And you’re invited!

You smile at the rectangle of light in your hands, the only source of light in the room as a matter of fact. Your eyes are tired, you had been studying all day and just when you were about to sleep, your phone buzzed. Of course, considering your addiction to the device, you immediately picked it up, losing every second of progress you had made earlier trying to actually fall asleep. Fucking insomnia. You either went to sleep quickly and woke up every hour, or you didn’t sleep until an hour before you needed to be up for class. If your higher dosage didn’t start to work on sleeping pills, you seriously considered chloroform as a personal prescription.

You weren’t exactly a party person, apart from the drinks. The thought of being in a house full of three hundred people dancing and drinking, sweating all night while fucking whereever because their drunken mind couldn’t think straight was seriously making your stomach fold in disgust. What was even the point in parties anyways? To lose your virginity and figure out who the dad is for the next 5 years and you can’t afford a test because now you have to take care of a baby? Sounded like prison, just being held in a cell for 18 years or until you decide to kick the bucket yourself, deciding debt was more depressing than your lifestyle.

To be fair, you weren’t raised in the best household. Your mom tried to kick you out at 16, which you instead ran away, thinking she hated you but really she just didn’t want you to walk in on her hanging halfway off the bed with an empty bottle of pills hanging loose from her hand. And your dad? Sometimes you think you’re a lab experiment. Mom never brought him up,and when you brought him up, you’d be sent to your room like it was a cage and you failed your test. You honestly got lucky with the amount of maturity your harder teenage life gave you. Now you’re either working, studying, going to class, or getting the five hours, and what feels like thirty minutes of sleep, of course, only every other day. Some days, you don't get to sleep at all.

So of course you didn’t want to go to your best friend Lolly’s party. Whenever you said you were busy she’d just tell you to take a sick day off, but obviously, that wasn’t a thing that would ever be able to happen. You think your mom is the worst? Wait until you hear about your boss…

Morning

“Keep it going! It’s just a scratch!” She shouted basically in your face, her spit from her smoke corroded teeth would probably be on the tip of your nose if you had turned your head just barely to the right. The ‘scratch’ on your arm bleeding, leaking down between the now goosebumps on your skin and a few drops dripping down onto the broken glass on the greasy tile floor. Some asshole wasn’t happy about how few chocolate chips were in their cookie, you wish you weren’t joking. But of course, the customer is always right, even if it means they get to throw a broken piece of glass at you, cutting your bicep. “I don’t even know why I bothered hiring you, you ain’t even a pretty face.” She scoffs as she walks away, half her ass sticking out from her way to small pants. You half expected her button to fly out and land in someone's drink. She’d probably broken about 80 different codes by now with the way she talked to you. But of course, you’re way too patient with people, unlike Lolly, who quit the job as soon as she saw the morning shift manager, literally set her hat and apron down on the counter and walked out. You wish you had walked out with her, as she now works at a pet store, grooming dogs while you bleed all over the floor. It was five in the damned morning, you didn’t need this shit. But here you were, scrubbing the floor of glass, spilt Fanta, and blood, which was dripping onto the floor still, creating more of a mess.

Afternoon

From five to twelve. That’s how long you had to work. Every. Single. Day. Then you have thirty minutes to get to your first class. You have to switch clothes in the bathroom at work, shove it in your bag, run out onto the streets of New York, jog down Grey Street, cross Midway Drive, cut through the park at the centre of the city, hoping to fuck there isnt some event happening that keeps you from going around, then you have to go down into the subway, walk through the crowd of people talking loudly on their phones, all sweating and holding briefcases, so you try your hardest to avoid their bodies, reminded of the gash on your bicep when a musty street performer covered in silver paint rubs against you, coating your skin in a not so shiny and sort of disgustingly sticky paint. You hold back the gag you wanted to release onto about 15 people, and you push through the rest, almost twisting your ankle halfway up the stairs, but you of course power through it, and look at your watch. You didn’t have time to go to your dorm and clean up, but fuck. You look at your reflection in the window of a Starbucks, you didn’t even realise you had started crying, but your mascara running down your cheeks just like the blood had run down your arm, which stopped at some point and dried up with the streak of paint, made you look an absolute mess. Like you just walked in on your husband cheating on you with your sister. You just gag at your reflection, then the walking symbol shows up, and you cross the street, it was rush hour, so you had two choices. Go to your room, and clean up, be about ten minutes late, or go to class and look like shit in front of everyone. It was a split-second decision. But you didn’t want to look like shit. Honestly, you didn’t even want to go to class, so missing a few minutes wouldn’t kill you. Even if it did, you wouldn’t mind.

So instead of taking a right and going to the class you so desperately needed to pass, you go left on Harper Road, and you run up some steps to your apartment, shoving the keys in the door and swinging it open before rushing to the bathroom, pulling off your white blouse - now stained red and brown from blood - and tossing it on the floor, quickly turning on your shower, and you didn’t give a flying fuck about the water bill, you were about to take your damned time under the water.

You step in once your fully unclothed, the warm running water stinging your cut but the damned shower was the only good thing going on in your life right now, so there were no complaints apart from the hiss that leaves your lips as it does hit the now inflamed wound.

About thirty minutes later

About twenty eyes land on you as soon as you walk into the classroom, which was actually just the library. Literary class for your want to be a writer, and your teacher - Professor Barnes - pauses for a moment. He looks you up and down, gives you a disappointed look, then you find an open seat, pulling out a notebook with only a few minutes left of the class, but you were about to spend the next hour or so in the library with your friends anyways. While you wrote, and studied, they had a project to work on. One that you’ve already failed twice. Once for turning it into the wrong class, and once for accidentally lighting it on fire at work when a co-worker dropped a flaming pan on it, which, of course, you were blamed for. Then just as class ends, and everyone packs to leave while you continue to write notes into your book, you feel a presence behind you. Before you can even apologise to him, you feel his large hand on your shoulder, and his voice in your ear.

“You were late again.” No shit Sherlock. “What happened this time?” He asks, moving to sit on the corner of your desk, and you put down your pencil. He asked the question as if he didn’t believe you every other time you told him your situation. You wait for the library to completely empty out before you could yell at him for being a dick, and as soon as the last student leaves, the second the door closes and leaves a whoosh of air from its weight, you don’t scream. Some unknown squeak of every emotion mixed together except for happiness and joy leaves your throat, and your newly applied mascara runs down your face, exposing your clear tears to be mixed with the black makeup, streaks of it running down your cheeks, causing you to lean forward, face in your hands as you start to sob. The sound of a heavy sigh is the only thing in the room apart from your absolutely embarrassing breakdown. “I gave you a hundred on the assignment for the day.” What? That makes you look up, once again looking like a wife just cheated on, only this time your false husband cheated with your own mother.

“W-What? I-I don’t even k-know what the assignment was…” You hear him scoff, but it wasn’t a hateful scoff, it was more of a ‘do I look like I give a fuck,’ sort of scoff.

“Look. Lolly spoke to me about how you’re doing. So I figured I’d give you a break.” That was… Weird… Why would he do that?

“But what about the assignments that go with it-?”

“Congrats, your grade just went from a D to a B. How about you go home and relax for the rest of the day instead of studying.” You’re silent for a moment. Relax? You haven’t done that since freshman year, and even then, you weren’t sure your lunch period was exactly meant for a thirty minute nap.

“Mr. Barnes- I-” You jump a little, his hand closing your textbook and he hops off the table.

“Come on, class is over, go home.” He sighs, and goes back to his desk with your textbook, scanning it and setting it on the shelf so you wouldn’t even need to bother turning it back in and most likely paying the late fee. You stand up awkwardly, grabbing your bag and only just realising you definitely twisted your ankle as you limp a little before barely catching yourself on your desk. You honestly looked pathetic, you weren’t exactly sure why he wasn’t laughing. “Are you alright there?” You hear his voice close again, and you turn to look up at him, his hand moving to the middle of your back. But momma didn’t raise any wimp.

“It hurts-” You whimper. What. The fuck. Momma would be disappointed - If she wasn’t dead - she’d probably choke you to death. That pathetic ass noise would’ve been enough to consider you a puppy ready for adoption. “I mean uh- I’m fine.” He chuckles a little dryly, his eyes widening at your horrible attempt to convince him that you were truly fine.

“Are you sure? You’re crying even more now.” Honestly, if he hadn’t pointed it out, you wouldn’t have noticed. You were so sleep deprived. So tired. Exhausted. You were genuinely ready to snap at the next person who even breathed wrong. “Are you gonna be able to walk back to your dorm?” He grabs your bag, swinging it over his shoulder before you can even answer.

“I-I’ll be alright…” You hold out your hand for your bag, but instead, his hand on your back gently pushes you forward, making you limp in pain before his arm snakes around your waist, which should’ve made you jump, but he was helping you walk.

“Well, Imma give you a ride home if that’s alright.” He pushes the button to open the automatic door, helping you walk out into the cold air which hits you in the face worse than it should with tear stained cheeks.

“I mean I can walk-”

“Doesn’t look like it.” He shrugs, walking into the teachers parking lot, dragging you towards his truck, the one you knew was his because he was the only teacher you could actually stand, so you’ve waved bye to him at the end of the day a few times before.

“Yea- I can’t.” You admit, limping along next to him.

He opens the passenger door to the truck, and he even helps you in, setting your bag on the floorboard before closing the door and rounding the vehicle, getting into the driver seat and the warm air from the vents feels amazing, everywhere except for your sleeve covered arm, which was still warm and inflamed.

“Go ahead and give me directions hun.” He asks, pulling out of his parking space. You turn on your phone, a few missed texts from Lolly that you could look at and deal with later swiped away by your thumb as you go to the maps app to get directions until you remember you live just across the street from the dorms.

“I uh… I’m in the apartment- the one with the red roof across the street from the dorms…” you mumble, but he does hear you, nodding as you set your phone down on the centre console and reach down, rubbing your shin with your palm and it hurts like shit - it's definitely more than sprained - and you were way too poor to go to the hospital to get it checked out. So a self diagnosis would be enough for now.

“So what happened? Did you fall or something?”

“I uh- twisted it going up the subway steps.” You sit back up and look out the window.

“Subway? What are you doing in the subway if you live so close to the school?”

“I have work in the mornings…”

“Sounds stressful.”

“You have… no idea…” You mumble again, looking out the windshield now, and you can practically feel his head turn to look at you, so you look back, you were of course, correct. “Sorry- I just- today has been really bad. Not as bad as like- other days, just like- the worst this month.” You shrug, trying not to just be some complaining idiot.

“No, no. It’s okay. You don’t have to apologise. If I were you, I wouldn’t even be going to class after that.” He shrugs in return, and turns back to the road, which you do too as he steps on the gas and continues.

“I just uh, I guess I’m clumsy.” You look down a little.

“I just assumed you got caught up in the rush hour crowds. You wouldn’t be the first person to be pushed around by assholes in the swarms of humans.” You chuckle a little. Swarms of humans is definitely the best way to describe it. “Lolly told me about your work, your boss sounds like a dick.” You laugh this time, throwing your head back onto the headrest behind you and you look at him, a little smile on his lips.

“Oh no, she’s the most loveable person ever-” He starts to laugh at your horribly acquainted sarcasm. “She’s the best part of my day.” You roll your eyes, looking back out the window.

“Well I heard that someone has some very mixed emotions about her. One being hatred, the other being pure infuriating anger.” You start to laugh, it honestly hurts a bit to laugh. You were so sore. It made you want to cry… again.

“Does Lolly just tell you everything about me?”

“Well I asked. You two hang out a lot, so I figured she’d be best to ask.” He shrugs, again. And he pulls into the parking lot of your apartment, finding the only empty space. Your space. “And she told me, and I quote.” He picks up his phone, opening a texting screen. “She needs a break. She has been working under this yellow bag of walrus shit for the last two years without a single break for her own health and I am worried about her. Maybe you could convince her to take a break. I would probably kiss you if you could.” He sets the phone back down. “But we're going to disregard that last part because she’s my student, and I’m positive she was drunk.” You grit your teeth. It was definitely Lolly. Because you do unfortunately remember calling your boss a yellow bag of walrus shit.

“Yep. But I unfortunately cannot take a break.”

“Well, I’m not exactly a doctor, but I’d say your ankle is pretty messed up.”

“Well-”

“And I looked into it- You will get paid in your time off. She cannot fire you if you’re injured with a doctor or nurse note.”

“Well-”

“And I occasionally take over for the school nurse, so guess who wrote you a doctor note for your fucked up ankle?” You don’t say anything. You don’t know what to say. “So. Grab your bag and head up to your room, and promise me you’ll relax and take care of yourself for a day?” Why was he even doing this? He didn’t pay attention to you before. You were always just another student and now he’s basically forging a document to give you a break? It just didn’t seem real.

“Okay…” You whisper, grabbing your back and opening the door as you step out back into the cold, and head straight to your room, which was in clear view from the spot he was in, so he sits in his truck, waiting for you to get inside before pulling away as he stays parked. But just as you set your hand on the doorknob…

“There you are!” Your neighbour. Of course, your fucking neighbour has to add to your most wonderful day. “Your dog won’t stop barking! She’s been yip yap and yip yap all day! I’m going to call animal control!” You don’t even own a fucking dog.

“Ma’am I-”

“You forgot your phone.” His voice makes you want to writhe out of your fucking skin. You turn around to see you professor holding your phone out, which you take slowly as he turns towards the lady. “Is everything alright ma’am?” You want to laugh. You and your exhaustion work together their absolute fucking hardest as you try so hard not to laugh at her words.

“Oh of course darlin, everything is fine. Just talkin to my lovely neighbour.” From the mean, stern, gritty yelling voice that you’ve grown used to, to a suddenly sweet old lady that sounds as if she takes care of butterflies and builds them new homes. You cover your mouth, genuinely struggling not to laugh, and you see the corner of her eye twitch.

“I thought I heard some yelling.” Barnes gently wraps his arm around your shoulder, and you take a deep breath, some confusion now etched into your features.

“Just some harmless bickering, nothing too much.” She looks away from Barnes, and looks down at you. “Have a nice day darling.” You can almost feel how hard her fucking teeth are clenched, and you give her a little smile. Apparently, she wasn’t willing to embarrass herself in front of handsome young men- er- your professor.

“Your neighbour is a dick too. Maybe you should get your dog something to distract it.”

“I don’t own a dog.” You both stare at each other for a moment, and you see him biting his cheek before he takes a deep breath.

“Go get some rest. I’ll see you next week in class.” He chuckles a little and stands there, watching as you half-awkwardly open your door, closing it behind you before you heard him descending the stairs, and you hear his truck roar back to life. A little relieved that you finally had someone on your side.

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