#this messed with me bad I've never yelled louder at a reveal before...

[fawnsmooch]

Misfits and Magic S2E4 spoiler without context;

[ryder-writes]

After the Dinner- Natuso x GN!Reader

A/n: I don't think I've ever written reverse comfort before tbh. It was an experience lol. Ive also never written for Natsuo before so srry if I messed up the relationship with his family and stuff

CW: Reverse comfort, take place before Dabi's reveal, family issues, mention of abuse

WC: 841

Natsuo felt heavy. Exhausted. He knew he shouldn't have gone. Why did he even bother at this point? Nothing was going to change. He would never forgive him. 'Forgive but never forget'- four words he never hoped to hear from his therapist and would never follow. How could he forgive a literal monster? The sole cause for the death of his childhood, his relationship with his family, his peace?

He swallowed, a faint burning in the back of his throat. Every dinner ended in yelling. Every. Single. One. Him and Endeavor- his dear dad- screaming, Fuyumi trying to calm them both down. It rarely worked. They were all forgiving him too fast, really. At least Shoto wasn't taking his 'apology' quite yet. Natsuo sighed, trying to calm himself down. He unclenched his fists, feeling the coldness dissipate from his palms. His quirk tended to activate whenever his heart rate increased a lot. He's pretty sure he accidentally left some frost on the door when he stormed out. Walking down the hallway to his apartment, he took a deep breath. He never liked falling apart in front of you. Even though he knew you would catch him.

-

You knew that Natsuo would be different when he came home. And, as much as you wanted to greet him with a hug and tell him that everything was going to be okay, you couldn't. 9 times out of 10 he just needed space to cool down. So, that's what you gave him.

-

When you heard the front door open followed by the lack of a tired "Hey, honey" or "I'm home", you knew things got pretty bad. You could faintly make out the sound of the door closing and him putting his shoes in the little organizer by the door. You stayed in bed, knowing that he would come to you when he was ready. If he wanted to talk. You heard his footsteps get louder as he walked towards your shared bedroom. He pushed the cracked door open, immediately going to the dresser to grab some clothes. He didn't acknowledge you, so you didn’t acknowledge him. You would wait- as long as it took.

After taking a cold shower, Natsuo felt a little better. He felt clean for the first time in hours. He walked back the bedroom in gray sweatpants and a white tank-top, putting his dirty clothes into the hamper in the corner. The bed dipped beside you as he sat down. You continued to look at your phone, waiting until he was ready. You heard him sigh. In your peripheral vision, you saw his hands drag across his face. He exhaled a shaky breath. You put your phone down and shifted a little towards him. This caused him to lock eyes with you. You saw the sadness and exhaustion. The pain. The bed creaked as he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He started to shake, finally allowing himself to cry. Your right hand found it's way to his hair, scratching gently. Nothing was said between you two for a while, the only sounds being the air conditioning and Natsuo's soft cries (when he was little he taught himself to cry quietly and still does it to this day).

Your hands grounded him, reminding him of where he was: here, with you. His fiancé. He sniffled and mumbled something.

"Hm?" You questioned, unable to hear what he said.

"'m sorry."

"There's nothing to apologize for, baby." You kissed his temple. "I'm always gonna be here, no matter what. I'm not going anywhere." He hugged you tighter, afraid you would evaporate into thin air if he let go.

You sat there for another few minutes before Natsuo spoke up again.

"How does he expect us- me- to forgive him…? He ruined our lives. W-we were just kids." He sniffles, leaving your neck and resting his forehead against yours.

"You don't have to forgive him. There's no obligation." You remind him.

"Touya wouldn't've forgiven him." The soft whisper leaves his mouth before he has a chance to stop it. He had told you about Touya and his death, albeit hiding many details and specifics about it.

You grabbed his hands off of your shoulders and held them to your heart. He could feel your warmth and the faint beat of your pulse. It was then he realized how thankful he was for you. How much he loved you. And how much that scared him.

You seemed to read his mind and kissed his forehead.

"You're not him. You are Natsuo. You are my partner, the love of my life, my fiancé. Nothing will change that. Nothing will change who you are."

You looked down and saw a single tear run down his left cheek.

"Thank you."

You kiss the tear away.

"Of course, baby. Are you feeling better?"

He hummed, feeling the dryness of his throat. He leaned forward and nuzzled your noses together. You giggled, happy to see the playful side of your partner start to peek out again.

My Masterlist :]

[sofreddie]

Fricking Free

Summary: After a close call, Dean decides it's time to settle down into a normal life.

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam x Eileen, Miracle (the beautiful floofy pupperz)

Warnings: 15x20 AU, Injury to Dean (but no death), Angst, Fluff, Pregnancy

Word Count: 2,239

A/N: A part 3 or epilogue of sorts to the Dog-Gone Witches and Pesky Portals mini-series. I combined them into one list since it's all connected.

Sam hissed as he pulled Dean's body off the pole of rebar that had impaled him, gently laying him on the floor of the barn. The wound was really bad. The rebar narrowly missed his spine and heart, but he was sure it broke through at least one rib and punctured his lung.

He knew he'd have to get his brother to a hospital immediately if he had any chance of saving him. With his last bit of strength, he hoisted Dean into his arms and hurried to the Impala.

Laying Dean across the backseat, Sam rummaged in his pocket for the keys before shutting the door on his brother and hopping in the driver's seat.

Dust kicked up as he sped off towards the nearest hospital. He kept glancing in the rearview mirror to keep an eye on Dean. He looked like he was passing out.

Other than subconsciously praying that his brother would be alright, only one other thought rang through his mind.

Y/N was going to kick both their asses.

Y/N parked the antique truck in the large parking lot of the hospital. Sam called her as soon as he got Dean to the hospital. She immediately took off to meet them, several hours away.

Sam shot up from the waiting seats in the hall outside Dean's room as soon as he saw her enter. He stood and waited for the yelling, but she rushed to him and crashed into his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around him. He was surprised, but grateful, as he understood her fear.

"He's in here," Sam said as he pulled from the hug and led her into the room. She walked through the door and her eyes landed on Dean in the bed. He was covered in bruises and bandages and so many things.

Her breath caught in her throat and she choked back a sob.

"Hey," Dean croaked with a small smile.

"You could've died," she blurted out in a whisper. She took several steps closer to him, speaking louder not but not quite yelling, "You almost died."

"I know," Dean rasped, "But I'm okay-"

She raised a hand to silence him, "I did not travel across the universe for you to turn around and die on a hunt Dean Winchester," she chastised, "You saved the world countless times. You've replaced God. You're frickin' free!" she huffed, "So be free Dean, with me. please," she begged, carefully taking one of his hands in her, tears streaming down her face.

"I can't handle seeing you like this. I can't handle not knowing if you're coming back. Please, please," she sobbed, dropping her head to his chest and holding him as carefully as she could.

Dean carefully draped an arm over her back, holding her to him as she cried. It broke his heart to see her like this. She didn't know, but Sam had had a similar conversation with him when he woke up.

He glanced at Sam then over Y/N's shoulder. His brother gave him an 'I told you so' look and Dean minutely nodded, looking back at Y/N.

"Okay," he said, brushing her hair back and looking into her eyes, "You're right."

He may never feel like he could completely quit hunting. But he trusted them and they both said he should. So he'd try. She was right. She was here, with him. After he had missed her so much.

It would be dumb to throw that all away. He almost died on that hunt. He swore to himself to never do that to her again.

Sam drove Dean and the Impala back to the Bunker, Y/N following behind in the truck. She was angry, hurt, scared. Sam hoped the drive back might give her time to calm down.

Dean was certain she didn't believe him and was gonna leave him. They all do eventually.

When they finally parked in the Bunker's garage, Dean was surprised to see Y/N there, helping him out of the car and offering to help him to their room.

Sam followed behind with their bags, ready to help if Dean seemed to falter. But he and Y/N seemed to make it to their room just fine. Sam set their things inside and helped Y/N get Dean settled onto the bed.

He still had a long way to go to heal. They were back to doing things old school. Just another reason not to take so many risks. This hunt made Sam realize that any day could be the last now. For real.

It was sobering. It made him want to seek out all the things he couldn't before because of the life, because of Chuck. He wanted that for Dean too.

Y/N sat on the bed next to Dean, taking his hand and Sam smiled.

"I'll just leave you two to it," Sam said, going for the door.

"Hey Sam," Y/N said, turning to look at him, "Thank you for your help, and for keeping him alive."

Sam grinned and nodded, "Always."

Y/N smiled then turned back to Dean once the door was closed, "You're gonna be laid up for a while," she sighed.

Dean swallowed hard, "Are you gonna leave?" he asked in such a small voice it surprised her, "Are you gonna go back home?"

She stared at him as if he'd grown a second head, "I am home," she responded, "I'm not going anywhere, Dean. But I am not above nagging and a little shoving and smacking if you put me through this again. I'd kick your ass now but looks like someone else did me the favor."

Dean laughed, taking in her playful smile. She called this home. She was staying.

"Now, do you want food or do you want to get comfy and watch some mind-numbing entertainment?"

"Pizza and Netflix in bed with you sounds fucking perfect," Dean groaned, letting his head drop back against the headboard with a lazy grin.

"On it, Babe," she responded, pecking his lips. Dean drew her back to him, reigniting the chaste kiss and deepening it. She pulled from the kiss and giggled, "Oh, no stud. You're out of commission for the time being," she patted his chest and he groaned once more, before taking off to set up for their relaxing evening.

Dean actually enjoyed the break he got while healing. Spending time with Y/N was just like back at her farmhouse. Except he was practically an invalid for weeks, Sam and Y/N having to help him with everything.

Now that he was healed, he was restless. He promised he wouldn't hunt, and he knew Y/N was still wary that he could or would even keep that promise. But he was determined.

Instead, he started picking up odd jobs around town: handyman, car repair, lawn maintenance. Whatever people needed, Dean offered a hand and started making a decent amount of money.

That's when the idea struck him.

If he could make and save enough money, maybe he could find a small home in the area. Maybe even a little farmhouse on the outskirts of town. Y/N would love that.

Suddenly, the apple pie life seemed attainable, tangible. So he turned to Sam for help with his plan. Sam was completely on board and started making all sorts of suggestions on how they could make the money: side jobs, part-time gigs, hustling, and selling a few non-dangerous artifacts from the Bunker.

Sam was certain they could make enough for Dean and Y/N, and for him and Eileen. Dean was over-the-moon when Sam told him he and Eileen wanted a home and to start a life.

Everything finally seemed to be falling into place.

Dean found Y/N in their room, folding and putting away laundry. He smiled at her, always loving the small moments of domesticity. They were new and refreshing and he didn't want to take any of it for granted.

"Hey, Babe," Dean caught her attention. coming up behind her and grabbing her by the waist as he placed a kiss on her cheek, "Can we talk for a minute?"

Y/N stopped what she was doing, turning to Dean with trepidation. She knew Dean wasn't a big talker. She nodded, giving him her full attention. He sat her on the edge of the bed and joined her.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking since that last hunt. You're right. It's time I left the life behind. It's time I focused on our future."

"Dean-" she interrupted, feeling incredibly guilty, "I'm sorry I said what I said. I know you hunt. I know that-"

He raised a hand silencing her, "I want to. I want a life with you."

She smiled brightly, leaning in and kissing him deeply with relief. Maybe they could have a simple, domestic, safe life.

"Rise and shine, Sweet Thing," Dean said as he swiftly pulled back the covers, revealing Y/N. She groaned as she wiped her mess of hair from her face to glare at him with barely open eyes.

Dean chuckled and pecked her lips before handing her a mug of coffee and sitting beside her on the bed.

"Why are you so chiper so early?" she groaned, "I thought that was Sam's thing."

He laughed again, "Well, I'm in a good mood and I'm really excited."

She raised a curious brow at him, taking a hefty gulp of her coffee to help her mind, "What's going on?"

"Get up and you'll see," Dean said, getting up from the bed and beginning to go through the closet and dresser, pulling out clothes for her. She decided arguing with this crazy person wouldn't get her anywhere, so she just went along with it.

Whatever it was, at least it made him smile so brightly. That tugged on her heart strings a bit.

She took turns getting dressed and gulping her coffee, trying to move as swiftly as her body would allow. Dean was practically vibrating in place, like a kid ready to go to Disneyland.

An hour later and she understood why.

Dean stopped the car at the end of the long driveway - practically a private road - to the charming yet dilapidated farmhouse in front of her. She climbed out of the car, her eyes taking in the property around her.

It reminded her of her own farmhouse in a way. Or it would if it wasn't so rundown and overgrown. That didn't deter her though. She wouldn't shy from a fixer-upper. Hell, her home was one too.

"I bought it," Dean said, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her middle. He rested his chin on her shoulder as they both looked over the house and property.

There was plenty of land. She could already pick out a few good spots for a garden. The property was surrounded by woods too, so there was a sense of privacy and quiet.

"I figured we could fix it up together," He said as he took her by the hand and led her inside, showing her around and telling her all the ideas he had for the place. Her face hurt she was smiling so hard so long, "Sam said he'd come by and help too."

"He's not coming with us?" she asked, wondering why Dean would leave his brother behind.

"He bought a house too," he grinned, "For him and Eileen. It's in town."

"Wow," she huffed a laugh, "So you really were serious. About leaving it behind? Building a life with me?"

"Yes. We can be happy here."

She looked around once more before settling on him again and smiling brightly, "I think we can," she agreed.

Y/N groaned as she placed the bowl on the floor, petting Miracle on the head with a smile. She stood up straight, a hand on her lower back for support, the other on her large belly.

She perked up, hearing a car pull up the drive outside. She opened the front door and went down on the porch, smiling in greeting at Sam and Eileen as they exited the car.

Sam reached her first, giving her a hug and kiss on the cheek. He rubbed a hand over her belly in greeting to the baby, before stepping aside for the women to hug and coo. They laughed, barely able to hug each other as their matching protruding bellies got in the way.

"Dean in the garage?" Sam asked and Y/N nodded with a roll of her eyes.

"Is he ever anywhere else?" she joked. She ushered Eileen inside, Miracle happily greeting them both.

Sam made his way to the garage. It was a large barn previously, but he and Dean had converted it. Sam smiled at the sign above the entrance: Family Business Auto Repair & Restorations.

With Baby and a few cars from the Men of Letters Bunker, Dean was able to showcase his skills locally - and eventually regionally - which allowed him to really take off with cars professionally. He always thought about it, but never thought it could be a reality.

After a quick hug and greeting, the brothers made their way back to the house. The four of them tried to have dinner together at least once a week.

The brothers stopped in the trek, spying the women sat on the porch chairs, sipping at lemonade. A pitcher and additional glasses sat waiting. Dean smiled at his brother.

"Living the dream."

Forevers:

@sis-tafics

@lyarr24

@calaofnoldor

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67

Dean Winchester:

@akshi8278

@jerkbitchidjitassbutt

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 10

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the support and feedback! I'm so glad you're enjoying this fanfic <333 Feel free to like, reblog and comment. Would love to hear more of your thoughts! Love u guys <3

CHAPTER TEN

Just like last time he was here, Bucky grabbed some cereal box, poured the contents on a bowl followed by a tall glass of milk dumped over, making a mess on the kitchen island like a ten-year-old kid. You just finished changing into some new clothes when he finished pouring the milk in the bowl.

You followed into the kitchen, pouring yourself a hot cup of coffee from Peter's new coffee maker he got just two weeks ago and cleaned the mess that Bucky had left.

"How is it," you started just as he was about to walk out, "that you can flawlessly make a drink without making a huge mess but not with a cereal?"

He plopped down on the couch and placed his feet on the coffee table and turned on the television. He shrugged in response, eating a mouthful. "I was just trying to impress you. You're Peter's best friend. I want you to like me."

You just hummed and sat down on the love seat as soon as you finished, lifting your knee to your chest and letting the warm liquid slide at the back of your throat, letting the caffeine sit in me. You gave him no response as you didn't know what else to tell him. You just gazed at him, watching him like a hawk, as he continued to take a mouthful.

But you weren't staring at him like you did before. You were, somehow, trying to read his mind because the person sitting right now on your couch felt and looked so much different from the person who kept giving you lingering stares at the bar. One moment he was complimenting your photos, and the next your face. It felt like there were two of him and you didn't know which one attracted you more.

No one had ever looked at your photos the way he did. No one had ever talked about your photos the way he did. And no one had ever succeeded in getting a sudden yet fleeting internal reaction from you by calling you "doll."

"It's rude to stare, doll."

Except Bucky.

You apologized, and averted your gaze from him towards the television screen which showed the news channel. You took a huge sip of your coffee and ignored the searing pain of the hot liquid on the roof of your mouth. That's gonna leave a mark.

You hibernated inside your room for the next few hours, watching some sitcom on your laptop. You would hear Bucky yelling at the television screen from time to time or into his phone. Some names unfamiliar to you were mentioned. You hated the feeling of isolating yourself from the world but here you were, cocooning because you didn't know how else to be around Bucky after what happened that one night.

Plus, it felt like you were a child stuck with your babysitter.

He would knock on your door, check up on you, ask you if you needed some snacks, or if you wanted to do anything else besides locking yourself up in your room. The last time he called out for you, he was asking you to lunch, to the little Italian place across the building. Starving, you agreed to come with him only if he paid.

He just shook his head with a smile on his face. "I feel like you're taking advantage of me."

"I am." You said, locking the apartment door behind. "It's not like everyday I'm out with a rich guy."

"You gotta stop calling me that. I'm not rich rich."

"Compared to me, Buck," you said, "you are. Come on, let's go, I'm starving."

Just as you anticipated, Marco was beaming at you two once you entered his place, clearing a way for you, parting the customers like Moses did with the Red Sea. He pulled out two chairs for you and Bucky. Marco, as you assumed, was more than happy to see Bucky and more of his money. Bucky shook hands with Marco, thanking him.

Once you ordered, you turned towards Bucky who was busy looking at the photos of the gorgeous places in Italy on the walls. There was a bridge of silence between you as you continued to stare at him, still trying to read him. He may be an open book but it felt like his pages were complete blanks. Pages that were deep, far away from the cover, hidden and hoping to never see the light of day.

"Hey, Bucky?" you said, grabbing his attention. "What did you mean that night? When you told me I was something else? And please, don't give me one of those 'you're not like most girls' crap." You gave a snort of disgust.

He chuckled, biting the inner part of his lower lip before speaking. "I wasn't, anyway. You just intrigue me, that's all."

You subtly glance at him. "I intrigue you?"

"Yes, honestly you do. And you're fun to be with. It's not everyday someone agrees with me to scare off a one night stand the first day we meet." He laughed. "And I would like to get to know you better. And not just here."

You knitted your brows together in utter confusion. "Wait, what do you mean not just here?"

He shrugged, his eyes leaving yours and looked at somewhere else besides you. "Like outside."

"Like outside?" You repeated, the realization dawning on you. "Bucky, are you asking me out on a date?"

Bucky lifted his head and proceeded to look at the spotty ceiling, his lips curved downward. "If you want it to be."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "I don't think it's a good idea."

Then, he shot his head towards you, an agonizing frown marring his perfectly chiseled face. "Why not?"

You could think of many reasons why it would be a bad idea. First, you haven't been on a date for a very long time. Every person who had asked you out never had the luck of receiving a good answer from you. Second, Bucky was a complicated man.

And third, it would feel like betraying Peter.

"You're Peter's stepbrother." You sighed, defeated. "I can't do that to him."

"Right. Peter."

Marco came just about damn time to give you your newly-cooked food. Bucky ordered the same thing he got last time he was here: an Aglio Oglio pasta, paired with two large slices of pizza and garlic bread while you got a footlong Italian sub dripping with Marco's secret family sauce he never dared reveal. Marco said something in Italian before going back to the counter to tend to other customers.

Bucky smiled at you before you started digging in and began to speak. "How about this? Just two friends hanging out, not in the apartment, not here, not even at the bar, and getting to know one another. No funny business. Just like this. How does that sound?"

"As long as you promise not to give me those weird creepy stares you've been giving me since last night."

"Please, you also couldn't keep your eyes off me." He rolled his eyes. "Plus, I do have to admit you do look hot making drinks." He scrunched up his nose, taking a bite of his pizza without his eyes leaving yours.

A wave of confidence surged right through you, prompting you to ask this next question: "Did the whole cleavage thing push things?" You winked.

Bucky tilted his head to the side, just like he did this morning in the apartment, swallowing his food. "I'm not gonna lie, doll, that was also pretty hot."

"You should thank my friend Nat for that then."

He smirked. "I'll be sure to. So, uh, are you in?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Well, I don't know how you kids these days ask things. Is it like that? I feel like it is."

You rolled your eyes, chucking a piece of garlic bread to his face. "I'm not a kid. By the way, how old are you?"

"I'm turning thirty-nine next month."

"Thirty-nine." You repeated. "Wow, if we were to go on a date, you'd be the oldest guy I've dated."

"Well, I'd be honored."

After your little lunch, Bucky went back to his office in his penthouse to deal with a few things with his associates while you, on the other hand, headed to the bar and started to fix all the stuff accordingly. A few hours later, Nick and Nat silently creeped up behind you, scaring the shit out of you and nearly making you drop the bottle of whiskey you were holding. You scolded both of them which they just, in turn, shrugged off.

You pulled Nat into one of the booths, making sure you were out of Nick's sight and wouldn't be able to hear you.

"Bucky kind of asked me out on a date." You whispered.

"Holy shit, I knew it. I knew he has the hots for you!" She said with a voice louder than you would've liked.

"Sshh, keep your voice down! I don't want Nick to hear this."

"Oh right, 'cause of the whole thing."

"Yes." You replied. "So anyway, I told Bucky it wouldn't be a good idea because it feels like I'm betraying Parker."

"He's just his stepbrother. Honey, you wouldn't be betraying anyone at all."

"But Parker's my best friend -- "

"Exactly." Nat's eyes bore into yours. "He's just your best friend, not your boyfriend so go date whoever you want to date. Just not Nick. He's kind of a loser."

"Isn't there some kind of code?"

"Like a bro code?"

"Yes, something like that."

"Did you and Peter have an agreement that you shouldn't date his stepbrother?"

You shook your head no.

"Then it's okay."

"Isn't dating your friend's siblings a part of some unspoken rule?"

She rolled her eyes at you, obviously fed up with all the excuses you have been trying to make. "As long as you're not hurting anyone then it's fine."

An exasperated sigh came out of your mouth. "Well, Bucky seemed to kind of agree to it, so what was supposed to be a date turned into just friends hanging out and getting to know each other. His words, not mine."

"Right, and once you get to know each other, you two can go on expensive dates and such."

"I don't know, it doesn't feel right."

"Now, now, don't be too sudden with that thought. Deep down you kind of want this to happen. If you didn't, you wouldn't be having second thoughts about this."

Oh, what you would give to prove Nat wrong but there was nothing else you could give because you knew she was right. You were fleetingly staring at Bucky as much as he did with you. And right from the get-go, there was spontaneity which opened up a whole new thrill in you. Something you never thought you'd ever feel.

The rest of the night felt excruciatingly slow.

There were some familiar faces in the crowd and some unfamiliar ones brought in by the regulars, having fun on Saturday night. While you were taking orders and making drinks left and right, your eyes kept roaming in the nameless faces inside the bar, hoping to see Bucky but your hopes were crushed when you found no sign of him. You were forced to take your mind off him for once as you were flooded with more orders, and complicated drinks that weren't on the menu. In the middle of your shift, there was even a small argument between a college student and a man in his thirties at the pool table. Eventually, the man, assaulting the poor boy, got kicked out of the house by Steve which was just a piece of cake with all the muscles he was packing.

Steve approached you with a stern look on his face. "If you see that guy again, don't let him in anymore alright? I don't want any fights in my bar."

"Got it." You said, taking note of the man's face from earlier. You warned the other bartenders beside you and the waitresses going around. You sighed, thinking to all the times you've told Steve to hire bouncers for the place but he just said:

"What do you need bouncers for when I'm here?"

And it was kind of hard to argue with that because it did make sense. The only problem was he was always cooped up in that small office of his. You never bothered to learn the secrets he was keeping in there. He couldn't always be doing work stuff. But after a few weeks of working with him, it was best to let those things slide as he was your boss.

Once your shift ended, you texted Bucky where he was but you never got a reply. You exchanged numbers right before he went back to the White Wolf.

You were greeted by an unlocked apartment once you got there but there was no sign of Bucky.

"Bucky?" You called out his name as you removed your jacket and placed it on the coat rack just beside the door. "Are you here?"

Silence answered you back. You went into your room and changed your shirt into something a bit more comfortable: an oversized sweater. A few seconds after you changed, you received a message from Bucky telling you to go to the rooftop.

You immediately went up, the chilly New York air touching your cheeks. You emerged from the ladder with a bewildered look crossing your face. The once grimy floor of the rooftop was perfectly cleaned up, leaving no dust and dirt behind. There were two large crates in the middle, big enough for two people to sit on. On top of the crate were a large box of pizza (you assumed it was from Marco's), and two bottles of ice cold beer.

"What on earth?" You gasped, finding Bucky emerging from behind a big box just casually standing against the brick walls.

"Hey, doll." He greeted you with a cheeky smile.

You stepped towards him, enveloping yourself in a hug in an attempt to warm yourself up against the cool air. "Did you clean our rooftop?"

"I may or may not have. Who knows? Anyway, I got us some pizza. I figured you were hungry from your late shift."

As a matter of fact, you really were. Drained from the endless orders and demands, you usually didn't have the time to sneak a bite of food or even a sip of water.

"I got the pizza from Marco's. He's a really nice man and was more than glad to see me when I stopped by."

"Of course he was." you laughed, sitting down on one of the crates. You opened the box, your mouth already drooling from the sight of Marco's mouth-watering pizza. "He likes the dough. Ha! Get it?"

He rolled his eyes at you but with a hint of a small smile in his lips as joined you on the crates. "So, are you gonna spend the night in the apartment?" You asked.

"Yes."

"What, got another girl back in the penthouse?" You teased, nudging his shoulder.

He gave you a throaty, sarcastic laugh. "This time, no."

"Too bad. I was ready to give a performance of a lifetime." You chuckled, glancing at him sideways and catching him with a big smile on his face.

You looked around you. The only source of light you had was the city lights towering above, and ahead of you. "You know," you started, "if you hung those little lights on the walls or just above us, this would seem like a date."

He pretended to wipe some sweat off his forehead. "Phew, dodged a bullet over there huh?"

You giggled, tipping the cap off the ice cold light beer and bringing the top of the bottle to your mouth. The liquid felt cold in your mouth but soon warmed up, nestling inside your stomach.

"This is nice." you commented then started to ramble on some more. "It'd be nicer to see New York during sunset though. Ever since I got the night shift in the bar, I rarely do. It's all the traffic and bright city lights."

You painted Bucky a picture of the last sunset you've watched. You had no recalling memory when it was but you remembered it as another cold day (but not as cold as tonight). The colorful sunset hues plastered in the high skies. Seeing it from the rooftop felt like they could easily be reached, as if they were wanting to be touched. And without a warning, the sun started to go down millisecond by millisecond.

"To others, what happens after a sunset is just another sign of the darkness to come. And then poof, city lights." you continued, then proceeded to gesture at the sky. "But for me, the feeling after a sunset is what I love the most. The sun wallowed in serenity in the pale break of light in between those dark clouds forming. Ugh, I just love that."

"I see what you mean." Bucky hummed, withdrawing his eyes to the sky to look at you. "It's like an afterglow."

"Yes, like an afterglow." You agreed, meeting his intense gaze. "If seeing something so beautiful makes you feel good then the after of it all must be... more pleasurable."

"A lot of people tend to miss that detail after sunset." He replied. "But not you. You're a photographer, y/n. The details in nature, in people are some things you can never miss."

You just hummed in response, taking a huge sip of your beer. " So, when did your love for photography start?" Bucky asked.

"It started when I was young." You replied. "I would play around with my parents' digital cameras, take photos of literally everything around me, especially when we were on vacation. It was just a hobby then. I never thought of it as a means of living until I was in college. God, I hated business school. Every second of it. I just did it to make my parents happy but I really wanted to be out there, embracing people, embracing everything in life. It's like -- "

"Capturing people's stories in a different light?" He continued for you, as if reading your mind.

"Exactly." You smiled, quite happy that he saw it the way you usually did.

"If it wasn't for the hotel business I also would've been an artist. Maybe an actor."

"So, why didn't you?"

"Because business is all I know." He sighed. "Tony Stark, the guy who adopted me, taught me everything there was to know. As he was building his empire, he pulled me towards it and now, I'm running one of his hotels. Y'know, I don't think of him as a father or anything. More like a friend, a wingman."

And just like that, Bucky peeled himself like an onion. Slowly. Layer by layer by layer. But then he stopped. He opened his mouth to say more but then he decided to stop. You waited but nothing else came out. As much as he wanted to know you, you too wanted to know him — and not just his wild adventures but the things that were deeper than that.

It felt nice to talk to Bucky this way. Actually, it wasn't just nice. It was very comfortable that it gave you a warm sensation on your chest.

Seeing that he wasn't as comfortable as he was before opening up, you steered to a different topic. "Have you ever felt that kind of feeling?" you asked.

"What feeling?"

"The afterglow feeling."

"No," he chuckled, "I don't think so. I'm stuck in a routine, y/n. Business, party, booze, girls. Nothing exciting, nothing out of the ordinary. Everything's the same, everything feels like nothing after."

You agreed with him. "I guess I'm also stuck in a rut." You harmonized with his laughter, seeing your life flash before your eyes. "Cheers to that."

With that, you drank the night away.

[tiny-slasher]

Billy Lenz x Reader | Coffee Shop AU | Part 2

(Mild blood tw)

The lights were beginning to worsen the never-ending headache Billy always seemed to have. They were too bright- and if the loud music blasting in his ears wasn't bad enough, the crowd of people loudly conversing sure was. Overly loud noises never managed to drown out the bad thoughts from Billy's mind...it just made them yell louder.

"Sorry, your drink is almost finished!"

Billy just glared at them, even folding his arms to make a point. Nearly ten whole minutes of his life wasted on waiting for a drink he probably wouldn't even enjoy. He prided himself in being able to brew quality beverages, even if his customers didn't have enough tastebuds to appreciate them. There was no way this...person could possibly outdo him. Their customers probably only came for the horrible music, and loud laughter of others. Overrated, and extremely irritating.

"Here you go! One latte," they said, giving Billy that smile. "Sorry, it's a lot busier here today than usual. You picked a heck of a day to come visit!"

"S'fine," Billy said, grabbing his to-go cup and giving them a wide and plastic smile.

"You okay? You look a little pale..."

"...S'loud."

They nodded in reply, wringing their hands a bit guiltily. As Billy sipped on his latte (which was disgusting), they leaned over the counter and gave him a kind smile.

"I was going to close up early today anyway, if you still feel like sticking around?"

Stick around? In this nightmare?? Who the hell did they think they were-

"Okay."

Fuck.

They had the nerve to wink at him as they went back to work. It made Billy want to vomit. If it weren't for the small child picking out a cookie not five from him, he would have, if only to see the look on their face - see if they winked and gave him that sickening smile after that! As it was, they would steal glances in his direction every so often, oblivious to the compulsions running through Billy's thoughts, and itching at his fingertips.

They should be thankful he had recently started working on that in therapy, otherwise they'd have been in a real mess. Literally.

Billy tapped his foot, watching the way the faux leather of his boot shone in the harsh lights above him, too dull to reflect the scowl on his face. Despite the atmosphere, Billy felt himself less bothered by the ordeal than he'd expected.

That was beginning to change with the increasingly loud complaints from the child near him.

"I don't want- I want the cookie! Mama, please- are you listening? I don't want a muffin! MAMA!"

Billy slammed his drink onto the counter before his fist, now clenched from annoyance, could crush the cup. As it was, some of his latte splashed out and hit him on the back of the hand.

"Take these again, for to the noble mind. Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind," Billy mumbled, clenching his jaw.

He felt them turn to look at him, and he wondered if they had actually heard him over the loud, obnoxiously generic jazz music blasting throughout the room. He couldn't bring himself to look at them, knowing it would only overwhelm him to do so. Still, the hairs on his neck stood up as he continued to ramble, trying to drown out everything and regain some composure.

Slowly, he felt his heart rate slow, and his nerves calm. He managed to relax his hands enough to stretch out his fingers, sighing at the feeling of his joints releasing. He straightened his back, took in a deep breath, and-

His leg nearly gave out as the whining kid shoved themself into his side, completely ignoring him and continuing to complain about their mother's choice of muffin. Billy's hands gripped the counter as he nearly fell to the ground, and narrowly avoided splashing scalding hot coffee all over himself and the child beside him. The kid glanced in his direction once, but then continued to pay him no mind - clearly focused on getting the dessert he wanted, instead of apologizing.

There was a loud ringing in Billy's ears as he grit his teeth and clenched his fists, angry and humiliated at not only being knocked over, but being ignored. Not even the kid's mother paid any mind to him, or apologized on their behalf.

Only harsh pants of breath escaped his lips as he tried to regain self control. His fingernails dug into the palms of his hands, no doubt leaving welts behind. He shook so hard he couldn't see clearly.

"She s-speaks mu-much of her f-father. S-says s-she...hears..."

Billy could no longer feel his fingers, or his toes. His heart felt as if it had stopped beating, and was simply sitting outside of his body. He felt a pressure around his waist, and visually he could tell that he was moving, but all he could focus on was the ringing. It sounded similar to an old rotary phone...

Brrrrrring! Brrrrrrring!

His vision grew dark for a moment, before white lights fulled the area. He could see a shape in front of him that seemed so familiar...

Brrrrrrring!

It was a person...he knew this person...but...

Brrrrrrrring!

HE COULDN'T THINK OVER ALL THE RACKET. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UPSHUTUPSHUTUP-

"Billy?"

He heard his name whisper through the noise. He could feel a pressure over his hands, gentle but grounding. He felt the way his lungs expanded as he breathed a bit too quickly, and as his heart raced in his chest. The shape in front of him cleared a bit as his shaking subsided, revealing a pair of concerned eyes staring back at him.

"Billy? Are you alright?"

Blinking once, Billy took in his surroundings. He was sitting in a chair in what he assumed was a back room, filled with boxes of unopened coffee grounds, and unused to-go cups. Rectangular ceiling lights burned into his eyes as he stared directly into them. He saw the carcass of a bug lying in the cover of one, wondering how long it had been there. It was some sort of beetle...

He turned back to them.

Suddenly, everything came rushing back to him. His eyes widened and felt his throat tighten as his pulse picked up from fear.

"Did I hurt anyone?" his voice was a frightened whisper.

Confusion took over their features, staring almost in disbelief at him.

"No...you were having some sort of panic attack, I think."

Billy's shoulders slumped in relief, and he tried to wish away the nausea in his tummy. He fought the urge to rip at his hair, and instead settled for staring up at the light again and letting it burn into his retinas.

"I took you back here where it's quieter...I'm sorry, I didn't really know what else to do..."

"S'fine..." Billy mumbled, unable to look at them.

As he glanced down, he realized their hands were holding his clenched fists. He jerked his hands away as if they’d been burned, his heart threatening to leap out of his throat.

They backed off upon seeing his reaction, looking a bit lost.

Staring down, he relaxed his hands, watched as the crescent shapes in his palms beaded with blood. A few of the cuts were fairly deep, considering he’d just trimmed his nails (for this exact reason).

"Oh no, here I'll get some bandages for that-"

They got up and left the small room, rustling what sounded like a container nearby for medical supplies.

Billy sighed, disappointed in himself. He'd had another episode...the first one in a while...and he hadn't been ready for it. He should have been. He knew he had been in a weird mood all morning, but he still decided to get coffee and visit them. He knew it was a bad idea. He should've have been more prepared. He should have done better.

Useless. Pathetic. What a pathetic excuse of a human being. No wonder he had no friends. No wonder his family wouldn't speak to him. Who would want to hang out with such a sad, miserable-

"I'm back! I brought some bandages and disinfectant!" their voice was so soft and gentle as they quietly opened the door.

“I’m back...” Billy whispered too quietly for them to hear.

They kneeled in front of him, opening up a packet with a disinfectant wipe.

"Can I see your hands?" they asked him, patiently waiting for him to respond.

He nodded, still unable to look them in the eyes, and held open his hands. The alcohol burned as it ran against the cuts on his palm, but he deserved it. He deserved to feel pain-

"You doing alright?" they asked, cutting off his thoughts. "I hope it doesn't burn too much...these look painful."

"...I've had worse."

They glanced up at him, brow furrowed, but said nothing. Setting the wipe down, they grabbed the bandages and began wrapping one of his hands. He watched how they ran it around and around, pulling it snugly, but not too tight. Definitely, not as tightly as he would have, if he'd been doing it himself.

"I'm sorry for what happened... You didn't deserve that."

Yes he did.

"I understand if you want to leave..."

See? They didn't even want him. They were trying to get rid of him, just like everyone else-

"But, I’d love if you stayed. I already turned the closed sign on the door..."

Billy watched the bandage wrap his other hand, as the two of them sat in silence. They were being so sickeningly sweet to him, as usual.

"You just want me to tell you my latte recipe."

Their laugh was so abrupt and loud and made Billy jump, but he couldn't help but notice the butterflies in his stomach at the sight of their smile. It was brighter than the damn lights.

"Nah, it would take away the magic. I prefer not knowing," they giggled. "It's your iced coffee you should watch out for."

"Fuck iced fucking coffee."

They covered their mouth, trying to contain their laughter. It didn't work, but Billy found it extremely annoying that he could stare at their teeth anymore.

He reached up and grabbed their wrist, catching them off guard, and gently pulled their hand down. Their smile began to wilt out of confusion, and Billy frowned in disappointment.

Probably because he was being a creep. Disgusting, filthy, nASTY-

Billy let go of their wrist with a sigh. Their eyes searched his face, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear.

"You always seem to have so much on your mind..." they whispered.

Billy grimaced and turned away from them. He swallowed down the acid reflux creeping up his throat.

“I'm always here, if you need someone to vent to. I’d be happy to listen."

Disgusting. It made him sick.

Slowly, Billy looked into their eyes, seeing no signs of malice. He ignored the beat his heart skipped.

"Come on, I'll make you some iced coffee," they winked with a smile, standing up and offering their hand to him.

He stared at it for an abnormally long length of time, looking at the shape of their nails.

Hesitantly, he reached out his own hand and took theirs, acknowledging the way their skin felt against his fingers. It was more comforting than he was willing to admit, and much more intense now that he was aware of it.

He was beginning to suspect that they knew that before he did.

They were horrible.