"There is No Restart Button" an ex Bakugo x reader fanfic

(Chapter 11) Maybe I'd Get More

Bakugo's POV

I was never good with people. Not like most heroes seem to be when they talk to news reporters on TV or meet fans with big smiles and hand written autographs. Since I was just a little kid, I swore I had all eyes on me. Truthfully I was just like any other kid back in primary school, dreaming of being a pro hero like how everyone dreamed of being astronauts or doctors. What really set me apart from those innocent dreams was I knew mine could actually become true. My quirk manifested like all the others my age, my eyes marveling at the sparking flickers of light in my palms. So much power in the hands of a stubborn six year old, but not more than I could handle. Everyone loved me, wanted to be my friend, always playing on the playground with me. I was never alone if I didn't want to be, and there was no one who didn't gawk at my gifts. Adults said I was a golden child, teachers said I had a bright future ahead of me. You feed a developing mind with enough praise, give him enough privilege, those praises start to become fact. Of course there's nothing wrong with giving a kid some hope, convincing him his dreams will come true, but what's wrong is how quickly it got to my head. Being the best was no longer an "if", it was the present. I was the best, and everyone else was just lucky to be in my story. When I'd become the number one hero, they'd tell stories of how fortunate they were just to be my classmate, or shake my hand. I'd be people's idol, their inspiration, their envy. I'd be the best...

That's why my people skills were always trash. I didn't have to try and get people to like me, they just did. It didn't matter how mean or dismissive I was, I'd always have admirers. That did change the older I got, more people realized that spending time with a guy who cared for nothing but himself was dull and unrewarding. Hanging out with the "golden child" was only fun if he had a matching golden personality, and I definitely didn't. Friends came and went in batches, which never bothered me because I'd always find some sucker who'd leach onto my popularity. There was one person who did stay though, one person who convinced me my entitlement was justified, and that was you.

I barely knew you back then, but apparently we shared primary school together. I never noticed you, never cared about you until our third year of middle school. You approached me during class over something stupid I didn't remember what for, and it didn't matter. You had my attention. I could admit it, I thought you were attractive. You had these soft eyes full of life, a cute smile that made your cheeks look rounder every time. You seemed eager to talk to me too, not intimidated or shy like most other people in our class. At first that annoyed me about you, but then I realized you weren't doing it because you thought you were above me, you just did it because you admired me. You admired me a lot...and I liked that. I was bored, wanted something to do with my bland middle school life, something to talk about in a future biography of my life's great journey to being the best hero, so I asked you out. Looking back at it, it was the most pathetic excuse of a date I could imagine. I told you (not asked you) to come to the local arcade with me, and you didn't hesitate to say yes. I knew right then I had you hook, line and sinker. It was perfect, a person who'd just follow me around, not pester me for attention or affection, because you were just grateful to be in my presence. I could feed my ego consistently with you around. The real trouble with this arrangement was if you'd ever get sick of my one-sided treatment. Plenty of people did, which was why I went through friends like wooden pencils. They snap, they dull, they disappoint me. You, however, were far more flexible. With enough "care", I could patch you up over and over if I ever pushed you too hard, and you'd mold back together like new. That was just the kind of person I wanted to have around.

It was almost pathetic how you'd follow me around, always smiling and asking how my day was or if I needed anything. After the first time I hurt your feelings snapping at you, I figured you'd just move on from me. It wasn't like I'd be upset if you broke up with me, I didn't need you. But you didn't. Instead you apologized like you were the one at fault for my outburst. It stunned me at first, but then instead I felt this growing dark feeling of satisfaction seeing you beg for my forgiveness. You didn't just admire me, you RELIED on me. I hadn't ever felt that power yet, to have a human life bend over backward just to appease me. You'd be heartbroken if I was upset with you, because you needed that reassurance. You were the opposite of me, you were trying to catch strays of my shining ego for yourself because you had no true confidence of your own. All I had to do was keep you on that edge, make you believe I didn't need you but kept you around anyway. God, it was perfect.