Brollins x reader where reader is getting her business degree and is stressed out from trying to keep up with that and wrestling for wwe?
Break || Becky Lynch x Reader x Seth Rollins
Summary: Working towards a business degree and wrestling at the same time is stressful to say the least. Seth and Becky practically have to drag you away from your laptop to make you take a break.
A/N: Not me making reader resist when Seth tries to convince her but she folds the second Becky speaks up (me behaviour). Also this gif is everything. Becky in this episode of UUDD is my favourite thing ever.
You're hunched over your laptop, fingers typing furiously as you try to balance studying for your business degree and keeping up with your wrestling commitments. It's a juggling act that's been taking a toll on your well-being, and you know it. But the pressure to excel in both aspects of your life is unrelenting.
"Hey," a voice interrupts your focused concentration, and you glance up to see Seth standing there with a concerned expression. "You've been at this for hours. Maybe it's time for a break?"
You let out a sigh, running a hand through your hair. "I can't afford a break right now, Seth. I have so much to do."
He leans against the table, folding his arms. "I get that you're dedicated, but you can't keep pushing yourself like this. It's not healthy."
You give him a half-hearted smile. "I'll rest when I'm done."
Seth shakes his head, his expression firm. "That's not how it works, and you know it. Come on, let's go do something fun for a while. It'll be good for you."
You're about to protest when another voice chimes in, this time it's Becky. "Seth's right, lass. You've been glued to that laptop for days. A little break won't hurt."
You glance between them, their concern evident. It's as if they're a united front, determined to get you to take a breather.
Reluctantly, you close your laptop and stand up. "Fine, fine. What do you two have in mind?"
Becky grins mischievously. "We're going to the beach. Sun, sand, and not a single laptop in sight."
Seth nods in agreement. "It'll be a nice change of scenery. Trust me, you'll feel better after some fresh air."
You let out a defeated chuckle, realizing that they're right. Maybe a break is exactly what you need, even if you're hesitant to admit it.
As you arrive at the beach, the sun is warm against your skin, and the sound of waves crashing is oddly soothing. Seth and Becky encourage you to kick off your shoes and join them in a game of beach volleyball. It's a welcome distraction, and for the first time in days, you find yourself laughing and enjoying the moment.
After the game, you all sit on the sand, watching the sunset. Becky nudges you playfully. "See? A little break doesn't hurt, does it?"
You smile, feeling a weight lifting off your shoulders. "No, it doesn't."
Seth wraps an arm around your shoulders, giving you a reassuring squeeze. "Remember, we're here for you. You don't have to do everything on your own."
Becky nods in agreement. "And stressing yourself out won't help you excel in either wrestling or your studies. Balance is key."
You take a deep breath, letting their words sink in. Maybe it's time to start finding that balance, to give yourself permission to take breaks and enjoy life outside of your responsibilities.
As the sun dips below the horizon, you lean back on the sand, feeling grateful for the support of your partners. With them by your side, you know that you can tackle the challenges ahead, one step at a time.
Agony. Red hot, burning agony coursed through my body.
I couldn't work out how long I had been hanging here but it felt like years had passed since I last saw my team. Days and nights had blurred together with my periods of unconsciousness and day and night were indistinguishable in this basement.
My skin was littered with cuts, bruises and burns, arms chained above my head and legs shackled to the floor. The metal cuffs bit into my skin until blood ran down my arms, cracked and flaking in some places. The cold air enveloped my body, my underwear being my only sense of warmth. I hadn't quite lost hope but I was weak and I couldn't lift my head from its resting place on my shoulder.
Footsteps pounded down the hallway, he was coming back. In my mind, I could hear my screams of protest but my body was too weak for them to become a reality.
I wanted my team. I wanted them more than I had ever wanted them before and them finding me was the only reason I hadn't given up yet. I was so close to giving up, to just embracing the darkness and accepting my fate but they kept me alive.
I wanted my boyfriend and his warm, secure arms that made me feel so safe and loved. My best friend, who sprouted off random facts and figures because he knew that it was calming for me or read poems to me when I couldn't sleep after hard cases. I wanted to go shopping with my girls and gossip about everything and anything. I wanted to watch movies and munch popcorn with my gorgeous tech queen. I wanted to take Jack to the park with his dad and tell him amazing stories about his mom and the adventures me and his dad had in the BAU. I wanted to sit in a kitchen and be taught all about Italian cuisine and learn recipes to make for the team. I had so much more I wanted to do, but not until I escaped this hell.
As a profiler, I had studied my kidnapper as carefully as I could in this state and just hoped that the team knew as much about him as I did or their chance of finding me alive was slim. I prayed they were close by now, and begged for them to make it stop. I knew Derek wouldn't be much of a help right now. He'd be snapping at people, making impossible demands out of worry and fear and being an overall hothead. They would all be pushing themselves beyond their limits to find me, that much I knew.
My kidnapper was very organised and careful, a sadistic twat. He wanted everyone to know he had an FBI agent and taunted the authorities by sending them messages. He thought it was a game.
It was my own fault I was here. I was doing some door-to-door questioning and he baited me with some evidence he had apparently found. I knew I should have waited for backup, but we were desperate for new information and I didn't feel like I was in danger. Until the sudden pain in the back of my head and waking up in a basement that stunk of congealed blood and rotting flesh.
I had a killer migraine and I hadn't drunk anything since I woke up. My sight was limited but I could make out shapes in the dark, the wall full of tools, the wooden door that rotted on its hinges and a slight glow of light under the door. Every so often my body would go on temporary shutdown and I would become unbelievably drowsy and weak, passing out for hours at a time. When I woke, I had fresh cuts and bruises, exhaustion so strong my body didn't register the feeling anymore. He taunted me from the second my eyes opened, telling me I would never be found, and that we were too far away but he didn't know my team like I did. They would always come for me.
As he sauntered in, I lifted my eyes to glare at him. It wasn't my smartest move but I was in too much pain to say anything. I couldn't let him believe that I had no fight left in me.
"You look so beautiful just hanging there with all those pretty little marks on your skin," I growled at him, anger was the only thing left to fuel me. My neck snapped backwards as he threw a punch at my nose, smiling as the blood ran down my face.
"They'll find me. They'll always find me." My voice was hoarse and scratchy and talking only made my sore throat worse.
"Is that right?" He smirked grimly at me, aiming another fist at my gut as blood trickled from my mouth. His face was inflamed with rage as he stormed to a table equipped with weapons, grabbing his favourite blade before stalking towards me.
I lost track of how long he carved into my skin, revelling in my pain and cries, staring at me like I was his prey the whole time. Only when he heard thundering footsteps upstairs did he throw down the blade, facing the door with the biggest, most disgusting grin. He wanted to be famous, he wanted people to know what he was and what he did. He made me sick.
The footsteps stopped outside the basement door for a moment before it was thrown open, splintering under the force.
"FBI! Get your hands where I can see them! Cole Bailey, you are under arrest for the kidnapping, torture and murder of 3 women and the kidnap and torture of an FBI agent!" An unfamiliar voice thundered through the rank space as he was cuffed and dragged away by multiple officers. My head flopped down with relief as my body swayed in pain and exhaustion.
"Y/N? Hey, we're here," I winced as Spencer stood before me, hands and eyes assessing my state and the chains I was rigged in. "Can I get a medic and some bolt cutters in here!" My head swam as he shouted up the stairs. "Guys, Y/N is down here!" Despite my pain, I couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the relief I felt hearing his voice again.
"You didn't think you could get rid of me that easy did you bookworm?" My voice came out as a raspy whisper but a caring smile grew on Spencer's face upon hearing it. Footsteps thundered down the wooden stairs as the team came flying in like a herd of elephants. They got to work straight away, David holding me by the waist as Aaron cut the chains. Slowly and carefully they moved my arms down to rest them on David's shoulders. After being held up for so long the pain was excruciating and I slumped forward with a cry as I was freed. Spencer quickly shed his vest and cardigan, draping it over my shoulders before JJ appeared with a blanket which was also piled on me. It felt like years since I had seen their faces and I couldn't help but smile through the pain and grip onto Rossi like he was my lifeline.
My tired eyes came to rest on Derek who stood at the back of the room, face painted with anger and sorrow. Even though I felt I could barely move let alone stand, I tried my best to walk towards him and as I got closer to him my knees buckled from underneath me. His arms wound around my waist just in time.
"Why are you hiding over here away from me?" I loved the fact the rest of my team helped but I thought he would have been the first one there, not letting anyone too close.
"I couldn't protect you in the first place Y/N. Why would you want me to be close? I had my chance to prove I could care for you and that psycho managed to get to you and hurt you." I fought back a sob as he held me to his chest and I gripped his shirt as hard as I could. How could he ever think that
"Derek Morgan, you have done everything you could to protect me. It was my fault for not waiting for back up but we needed evidence and I didn't want to lose the only chance we had at finding him. You have protected me so many times before, this wasn't your fault, just like it wasn't anyone else's fault. Nobody knew he was our unsub until it was too late. I'm just glad I got to see you and the team again." I cried against him, my body shaking with weakness as he lifted me into his arms. "I don't need better Derek, I have the best I could ask for. If anything I should be apologising. I'm so sorry, I promise next time I'll wait for backup." He choked down a sob as he kissed my cheek, his tears mixing with mine.
"Don't you ever do that to us again Baby, ever. Let's get you out of here." I whimpered as pain shot through my body when he walked up the stairs to an ambulance. The team followed behind us, relieved and overcome with their own emotions. I sighed in relief and rested my head in the crook of his neck, squeezing JJ's hand as it clasped gently around my own and smiling at Emily as she wiped her tears away.
I was finally home. In the arms of the most important man in my life, surrounded by my family and I felt like I could finally relax. I couldn't ask for better people. As I was carried to the ambulance I let my eyes droop closed and fell into a deep sleep knowing that I was safe with my family now.
Summary: you have history with conrad fisher & an emotional conversation brings it to light
Warnings: A mention of a spoiler from season 2
“What’s your biggest regret?”
The sound of Conrad Fisher’s voice tore through the waves that were crashing up on the sand. It was the first alternative sound that you have heard in the last two hours and it broke you out of your daydream. You were laying on the sand, staring up at the dark sky that was lit up with glistening stars and the occasional plane sweeping through the air.
Everything was getting too much in the house and you snuck away. A text to Belly ensured her that everything was okay but you just needed air. You knew it wouldn't have been long until someone came to hunt you down.
“And there you go again, Fisher,” you sighed, voice straining and you tried to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill down your cheek, “always the deep, dark questions.”
“The answer doesn’t always have to be dark,” Conrad slowly sat down beside you, careful to not disrupt the sand too much. He lay on his side, propping his head up with his palm, and you could feel his gaze roaming your face.
Seconds turned into minutes before you spoke again, the words falling softly off your tongue, “I regret not coming up here last summer but I think you knew that, Connie.”
Without a second thought, Conrad brushed his thumb over the cheek closest to him and wiped the tear away which led to your lips quivering under the determination to not sob in front of him. You looked up through your eyelashes, praying silently that you wouldn’t break down but you knew that this has been building over the last couple of days that you’ve been back to Cousins.
The waves were non-existent as Conrad moved his hand slowly to cup your jaw and turn your gaze to him. You breathed in an unexpected sigh at the sight of his brown eyes staring back at you. Hurt. Pain. Regret. You recognised the emotions too easily.
“You didn’t know,” he whispered, “No one did and that’s what my mother would have wanted.”
His words were meant to give you a sense of relief, but instead they struck a cord that you have been carefully avoiding since the death of Susannah. Anger washed through your veins and you sat up, bringing Conrad with you. “She knew and she refused to tell me, she refused to beg me to come here to have.. To have one last summer with her.” Your voice wasn’t loud, but there was frustration dripping from the words, “She didn't fight."
“She didn’t want you to give up your life for her.”
“Stop defending her, Conrad!” you screamed, standing up and walking away from him.
“Y/N,” Conrad snapped, chasing after you as you rushed down further away from the house you grew up in. “You had a great summer, with your friends.. At your parties, living your life, as she wanted you to.”
This has been a topic that everyone has been avoiding since you arrived with Jeremiah. You never made it down to Cousins last Summer and it was all because you wanted to spend time with your friends. "I'm not a child anymore, mother, you can't make me go." were the words you said to your mother before she made the devastating call to Susannah.
You turned quickly on your heels, stopping dead in your tracks, “She was my life! You! Jeremiah! Belly! Even Steven!” Conrad was about a meter away from you, but you shouted the names at him, “I was too stubborn to give up one more summer to see you again, to see Suzannah again.. I thought I was too cool for Cousins, I kept saying to my mother ‘there’s always next year’ but now… that’s it,” you breathed out, looking him in the eye and seeing his heart break for you. “There's not a next year and there's nothing we can do about it.”
Before you knew it, Conrad wrapped his arms around you and pulled you to his chest. His chest was rising and falling, taking in the information you screamed at him. You couldn’t stop the tears from taking over, everything became too much and you were thankful that your face was smudged into his t-shirt. “It’s my fault,” you repeated, hearing Conrad shush you and running his hand up and down the back of your head. His aftershave swirled around you, it was like a drug to you, calming you down immediately.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, and you could feel his chest shake with his own tears. The realization hit you hard, it’s always him. He always has you.
Conrad guided both of your bodies to the sand, sitting back and letting you release the build up of emotions. You couldn’t tell how much time passed, but from the pain starting to come up your back, you knew it was time to face the music.
Pulling back from Conrad, he let you go gently, his eyes never leaving your face. You breathed out, your eyes feeling puffy and swollen, “I’m sorry about that.”
“You know there’s no reason to be sorry,” his voice was soft, just like it always was. Conrad Fisher was too pure for this world. “I should have told you the moment I found out but..” he paused, “things were complicated between us.”
You nodded understandingly. The last time you saw Conrad, it was hard saying goodbye to him. There was a first and last kiss, and the distance became too much for the both of you. Missed phone calls, forgotten texts and two teenagers trying to be adults. You need to live, and so did he.
“I do wish you called.”
“That’s my biggest regret,” Conrad whispered, before taking your hand in his and bringing it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on it, “I’ll live with that for the rest of my life, for making you feel this way.”
“Connie,” you breathed out, twisting your body to look at him with both eyes, “It wasn’t your fault, please believe that.” You watched his tongue dart from his mouth to lick his bottom lip, feeling your heart start to get heavy. Since the moment you returned to Cousins, your heart has been aching for Conrad like it always has been. “I missed you,” at your confession, the pain disappeared from Conrad’s eyes, and they softened with the side of his lips turning upwards.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he whispered, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek and he didn't miss the nervous gulp you took which only made him chuckle. “Y/N, I’m not me when you’re not with me. You change everything, you make me a better person and I… really like you for that,” he hesitated, a mischievous glint flickered in his stare.
“Were you just about to admit your love for me?” you teased, your mouth growing wide and your teeth were on full display.
“I think everyone and their dog knows that I love you, y/n y/l/n. I fell in love with you the moment I met you.”
“We were five,” you chuckled, shifting closer to him.
Conrad shook his head with a laugh, his thumb massaging your jaw gently, “and yet we’ve only ever had one kiss, how unfair is that?”
in losing grip, on sinking ships (you showed up just in time)
BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER
summary: when the avengers pick up unusual activity, they realize that not all of hydra was destroyed. one unidentifiable face sends the team into a frenzy but bucky knows it. he could recognize those eyes anywhere.
warnings: heavy angst, one sided enemies-to-lovers-ish, hydra!assassin!reader, hurt/comfort, happy ending, brainwashing, trauma, guns & knives, fighting, implied kidnapping of reader when young, all the feels, misunderstandings, poor attempt at writing action
wc: 4.7k
a/n: sorry it’s been forever but i hope my fellow buckyluvrs are still here <3 i actually wrote this a long time ago but never got around to editing until recently so i guess you can say this is (from the vault) ? inspired by the idea: what-if there was another winter soldier and bucky finds himself in steve’s position this time trying to get you back to him. anyways, i hope you enjoy this one :)
Bucky’s life was a never ending montage of gunfire and bloodshed. It didn’t matter if he was under the clutches of someone else, he still lived through the wars—the lingering smell of smoke and tang of metallic forever ingrained in his senses.
And just when he thought it was finally over—a glimmer of peace at last—it comes and steals that dream away from him.
Like deja-vu, he’s looking at faces that were once responsible for his pain.
On the screen, three Hydra officers stare back at him. All faces identified by Tony’s system. Alive. Last seen in the outskirts of some small country in Europe. Irrelevant low ranking officials that had managed to survive the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D and have been hiding and secretly continuing Hydra’s mission underground ever since. Low officials or not, it was one too many.
Bucky freezes in his spot when Tony swipes the screen. The billionaire goes on a rant saying this particular face cannot be identified, which was according to Tony, bullshit because his face recognition system is the best in the world. The rest of the team is arguing and flipping through countless files and internet archives. But Bucky knows. He knows that face and those haunting eyes that he still sees in his dreams.
“Buck,” a voice calls out. “You know her, don’t you?”
He looks up at Steve from his spot, his best friend's face worried and all knowing.
One thing about Hydra was that they were always prepared. They had backups and multiple plans ready, or else how would two heads take its place when one was cut off? Unfortunately for the world, Hydra managed to make another deadly assassin, one whose work was so discreet and nimble that even intelligence didn't know they existed.
You were a ghost story that lived in the shadows of the Winter Soldier. You were another one of Hydra’s prize possessions—less known, but just as deadly.
With Steve’s comment, all eyes are now on Bucky. A pregnant pause fills the air and he gulps before he confesses, “I wasn’t the only one.”
The room becomes tense. The war that they thought was over suddenly looms over like an unpredicted oncoming storm. “Jesus Christ, Barnes. You couldn’t have informed us about her earlier?” says Tony.
“I thought,” he says, shifting his eyes onto the ground, “I thought she fell with S.H.I.E.L.D.”
Bucky couldn’t find you anywhere after he escaped their grasp. After he joined the Avengers, he tried once again secretly using Tony’s technology but it was to no avail—it always ended up being a dead end. And for that, he assumed Hydra had put you out of your misery the day they were caught.
But the face on the screen says otherwise. And suddenly, Bucky feels very guilty.
Steve clears his throat, “Well, they were picked up not too long ago heading north. If we leave now, we might be able to find them and stop them once and for all.”
Everyone looks at each other, debating on his proposal. “What the Captain said. Everybody, suit up. Quinjet leaves in ten,” says Tony.
On the jet, Bucky stares off into space but countless questions run through his mind.
Steve walks over and sits beside him. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asks, voice quiet.
Bucky sighs, “I just… I thought she was gone.”
“Hey, it’s not your fault. You didn’t know.”
He looks up, wondering if he should tell Steve the truth. That he’s not brooding about the fact that he concealed you to them. After a moment, Bucky speaks up. “When we get there, let me handle her. Please.”
Steve didn’t know what kind of history Bucky had with you. But judging from the look his best-friend is giving, it’s more than what Steve could understand or even comprehend but he trusts Bucky and so, he gives him a nod. “She’s all yours.”
After scouting the area and tracing the location to a very hidden underground warehouse in the middle of nowhere, they split up. The warehouse was dark and dusty, surely abandoned, but Bucky knew better—it was their facade behind the most sinister of activities. Through the comms, Natasha announces that she has already taken care of all the troops in the West wing. Moments later, Sam reports that he has eliminated one of the Hydra officers. They wouldn’t last long. Hydra didn’t have much resources or time to rebuild—their current empire was weak, they were no match for the Avengers this time.
The only person Bucky’s truly worried about is you. The fact that he trained you, made you into what you were today already gave him the chills. He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore, but he was certain that you were still in that killer mindset that Hydra forced upon you.
Step by step, Bucky walks through the quiet hallway, the echoes of his footsteps the only noise. It’s cold here, he notices, which gives him flashbacks to those days in his dirty cell and the cryostasis chamber. Down a hallway to the next, round a corner and another, there wasn’t a single soul in the eerily Eastern wing.
But he spoke too soon, because seconds later, a garrote wire was around his neck. The swift invisible steps and the perfect pressure that was being used to quickly cut off his air supply was all too familiar. He knows this move, he taught this move. You’re here, and you’re dragging him backwards.
Before all oxygen gets cut off to his brain, he jabs his elbow backwards and hits you hard on the rib which releases the hold you have on him and sends you stumbling back. Bucky takes a moment to regain his breath but you’re on your feet again. He looks at you and for a moment he freezes, then you let out a sinister grin. “Nice to see you again, Soldat,” you taunt, before running towards him.
Bucky’s deflecting your punches one after another. Maybe he’s glad he was the one who taught you everything you know because your moves were predictable—if it were another person, there is no doubt they would’ve been on the ground with multiple concussions bleeding out already. You’re ruthless when you do a triple roundhouse kick on him. On the fourth one, he manages to catch your leg and twists it, sending you to the ground with a groan.
How familiar this scene was, Bucky thinks.
Some forty-years ago, Hydra brought a woman into the training room. There was no further instruction than to train you and that’s what he did. He could tell you were well trained already—compliant and pliable. You were good. And you were just like him, injected with a serum that made you a hundred times more efficient and stronger. In just under a year, Hydra would start sending you on missions. Sometimes with him, sometimes alone.
During training, the both of you would spar for hours, leaving each other bloody and bruised, but it didn’t matter to the overlookers, the both of you would heal in a few hours anyways.
Once you pick yourself back up, he pulls a gun out on you. “Stop this,” he commands.
You smirk, “You going to shoot me, Soldat? I want to see you try.”
He clenches his jaw. You continue to look at him, a dark look on your face that shows no sign of true recognition.
His thoughts are disrupted when you tackle him onto the ground. You kick his gun away and pin his arms down as you straddle him. “I’m going to kill you,” you declare, “I’m going to put a bullet through your head.”
When he looks up at you, your eyes are full of rage. Bucky doesn’t know whether that’s the brainwashed version of you talking or the actual you talking—maybe both.
“What are you going to do after you kill me?” he says, irritated. C’mon, please recognize me. “This is all that remains of Hydra. Half the troops are already dead. One of your new leaders is dead. In a few hours, Hydra will be no more. What will you do after that? What are you going to do after you kill me?”
“What does it matter? You’re my mission. I’m going to finish it.”
He groans at your stubbornness that was identical to his Soldier persona.
He says your name slowly. “Get off. You can walk away from this.”
You frown, but he continues, “I know how you feel. You’re feeling helpless.” He clears his throat, “There’s someone behind this version of you. I want to talk to her.”
“What are you talking about?” you utter in annoyance. “Stop stalling.”
He says that name again, with calamity and care. You want to rip out his tongue.
“Let me talk to her. Please.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about!” you shout, grabbing for the gun that’s strapped onto your waist. “Stop talkin–”
“I was in the cell next to yours. You liked the colour green. You were wearing white when we first met. You always wanted to visit Bucharest. You hated the leaky cold showers in the Siberian facility,” he rambles, trying to remember every single thing about you in a desperate attempt to get your attention so this version of you won’t shoot him in the face.
And for a moment, it works because your hand freezes on the grip of your gun. He takes that moment to flip you over, so you’re under him now, hands pinned above your head. He takes your gun and throws it behind him.
You snarl at him while trying to escape his grasp. “I know you’re under there,” he says. “Please, come through. Please talk to me.”
Your face scrunches in pain, not from him—he would never hurt you—but from the mental warfare that’s currently going on in your mind. You close your eyes as he speaks again. “Listen to my voice, you know me, don’t you? мой милая.”
My darling.
For a moment, your entire body tenses up and then you let out a painful breath. When your eyelids start to flutter open, he finally sees the eyes he came to know and rely on—eyes he came to love.
The both of you are looking at each other unblinking. A scene neither of you expected but always dreamt about.
You break the silence with a whisper of, “James?”
Bucky slowly nods at your disbelief. Finally, he thinks. But such respite doesn’t last long, because seconds later, you hook your foot under his and flip him over and escape his grasp.
There's darkness in your eyes and he can tell that the Soldate is back and the fighting resumes.
You’re chasing him down the twisting hallway and when you catch up, you grab his shoulder and throw a punch to his jaw. He stumbles back and then a voice comes through the comms.
“Just took down the second one.” Steve. “Bucky, how are you holding up? You’ve been quiet ever since we split up.”
He’s trying his best to block your hand, which now has a damn pocket knife. Your quick movements are starting to tire him out. Maybe he taught you too well, he thinks.
“Buck? Bucky. Confirm your status, right now.”
Groaning in frustration, he taps his earpiece. “I’m fine,” he grunts. A second later, “Shit!” he huffs out as you nearly slice his face.
“You don’t sound fine. Is she with you? I’m sending back up.”
“No!” he says, “Don’t send anyone. I can handle her.”
In truth, he’s struggling right now—your stamina has always been better than his—but he’s worried that you’re going to accidentally get hurt and even more agitated when people appear. His main priority was keeping you safe. Fuck the mission statement they talked about back on the Quinjet.
You’re angry—no, you’re extremely angry at him. It doesn’t take a genius to tell. It’s a mixture of pure rage from both the brainwashed and actual you.
He supposed he deserved it. You should be angry. Because for the longest time, it was you and him.
Other than turning you into a ruthless assassin just like him, an unexpected companionship also formed during those hazy in-between moments when the two of you weren’t frozen or on the metal chair getting fried by those machines—during the times when he was just Bucky and you were just you, two unfortunate innocent souls that shared the same suffering.
They weren’t pleasant moments. It was dehumanising. It was getting shoved into draughty cells with nothing but a blanket until it was time to train or time to embark on a mission. Luckily, your cells were next to each other and it made the endless nights a little more bearable. He was a little off-putting at first, but when he yelled at you to stop crying because they would torture you even more for it, you knew he meant well.
During your shared time together, glimpses of your true selves would seldom come up and you would tell each other about the little bits and pieces of a life once known. And the both of you would hold onto each other's memories and stories in case the other forgets.
And whenever they prep the two of you for the chamber due to there being no current missions for the time being, the two of you would look at each other—a look of longing with the secret squeezing of each other's hand before going under.
Despite the absolute awful situation the two of you were in at the time, the both of you were hopeful for the next shared moments together. Because even when all hope was gone, you had each other. And that was good enough for the two of you.
He misses you. So damn much.
“Shut up,” you mutter.
He didn’t even realise he said it outloud. “Well, I do,” he admits, his back hitting a wall.
“You talk too much, Soldat,” you say, creeping up on him. “I ought to cut your throat.”
“I’m sorry I left you with them.”
You halt in your steps and your jaw ticks. In a second, you pounce on him, your knife against his throat. He’s gripping your hand to stop you from continuing your job.
He says your name again. You’re pushing but he’s pushing back just as hard. “I’m sorry…” he repeats, “I’m so sorry.”
The desperation in his voice… You glance up at him slowly and he sees the pink forming in your eyes and your trembling lips. “What are you doing? What are you doing to me?” you whisper.
He sees the internal war behind your eyes once again. Bucky gulps for a moment before letting go of your hand, trusting that you won’t do any actual harm, and moves his hands so he’s cupping your face, firm enough so you’re forced to look at him. You look into his eyes for a second, then a minute, and for a moment, everything stops. Your breath hitches, because those eyes… those arctic blues… you know them. You fell in love with them many years ago.
A realisation washes over your face, one that Bucky doesn’t miss. You’re back.
The first tear falls. Then the second. “Bucky.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispers.
You let out a small cry before you press the blade harder against his neck, your grip a vice from his betrayal. He could feel the sharp cold metal pierce through his skin ever so slightly, but he doesn’t try and stop you.
“Give me a reason to not kill you right now,” you grit through tears. “You left me. You left me behind to rot alone. You promised me. You fucking promised,” you say, voice laced with venom and so much hurt.
Bucky’s heart breaks at the sadness of your voice. Because he did promise. There wasn’t much to do in the cells other than throw around false hope. But whenever he told you he was going to escape one day and that he was going to take you with him—it didn’t feel like false promises at all because it wasn’t, and you knew it too.
Until he broke that promise and left you all alone.
“I didn’t mean to,” he says, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean to leave you there with them.”
“I waited for you,” you cry. “Day and night I waited for you to come back. Even when they relocated, I waited for you because I knew you’d find me.”
You remember that day clearly. Everyone was in a frenzy when the death of Alexander Pierce broke out and that they could not locate the Soldat. For a moment, you could taste your own freedom because government officials would come anytime now and finally arrest all these criminals. But right when they came, a few Hydra officers managed to escape and took you with them, and when you woke up, you didn’t know where the hell you were. But even then you didn’t lose hope because James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, the name you committed to memory, was going to come for you just like he promised.
Until days, months, and eventually, a year came with no sign of him.
You were angry at first, but it slowly turned into worry because what if something bad had happened to him? But what do you know? You were stuck in this building and only went out whenever they spoke those trigger words to you. And you were always under their watchful eyes, giving you no chance to even attempt an escape. Surely he would never break his promise to you so something must’ve happened to him, you told yourself multiple times.
But he was standing here right in front of you. Alive. We’re under attack, your handler said to you moments ago, Kill the Soldat before he kills you.
“You’re a liar. You never cared about me,” you hiss.
Sometimes, it got too much. But whenever reality was a bit too hard to endure, Bucky was there, always reaching his hand out to you through the metal cage, which you took and held tight. And it meant the world to you, that someone cared.
“All those moments, did it even mean anything to you?”
He uses this opportunity to pull your arms down slightly, knife finally away from his neck and his eyes start to sting from his own tears. “They meant everything to me. I care about you.”
You look up at him with a defeated expression and Bucky never wanted to punch himself in the face more. “Then why? Why didn’t you come back for me?”
“I did,” he chokes out. “When I escaped, the first thing I did was go back for you, but the facility had already been raided and there was no one there. I checked every inch of the building.”
Bucky had never felt so scared, because what if the government took you too? They would never understand—framing you as a villain even though that was far from the truth. But there was no news of your capture, so with a breath of relief, Bucky continued to look through other known Hydra facilities.
“I tried my best looking for you, but I also had to be careful because I was a wanted man at the time. When months passed by and there were no clues, I thought that maybe you had escaped. I was in Bucharest waiting for you. Remember how you said you always wanted to go there? I knew that if you escaped, you’d find me there. Even when you didn’t show, I never gave up. Steve… I think I told you about him once—he found me, he helped me and cleared my name. After that, I still searched for you but it all ended up being dead ends. And…” he pauses for a moment, “and so I thought you were dead. I should’ve tried harder. I’m sorry.”
He had mourned you and blamed himself endlessly for it.
He knows he should’ve asked for help, but instead, he took this task upon himself until it got too much—because that was the one thing he struggled with the most, asking for help.
When his side of the story finally comes to light, you break into a sob. “I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says, “but please, drop the weapon and let me help you.”
You swallow hard at his confession. He never stopped looking for you. You didn’t even consider how hard it must’ve been for him after everything and yet you’re lashing out on him.
“How are you going to help me?” you say. “I’m a mess. All you have to do is say those words and I turn into a weapon.”
“I got you out of your trance, didn’t I?” he says with a gentle smile.
Hydra needed you to rebuild their empire and they relied on those nine words to do so. To them, those nine words were your greatest weakness but one of them, the last one, the one they liked to spit out in vexation, was also your greatest strength—your salvation.
Blue.
You think back, moments prior, when all he had to do was use his voice and all you had to do was look into the blues of his eyes. Hydra can repeat those words all they want, but Bucky would always be able to bring you back.
At that, your grip relaxes and the knife finally drops onto the floor, it’s noise ricocheting off the walls.
“There’s a place called Wakanda and I know someone there who can help you. Her name’s Ayo and she’s amazing. She helped me overcome my words.”
He brings his hands back up to cradle your face and you shutter at the familiar touch—at the calluses on his palms. “And I think you’ll like it there. It’s quiet and there’s so much… green.”
You let out a small laugh through your tears but doubt still fills your mind. “But… all the things I did,” you whimper, “I did such terrible unforgivable things. There’s… there’s so much blood on my hands.”
Sadness flares around his heart. It was all so familiar. He knows the feeling.
“It’s not going to be easy. God knows how long it took for me to believe that none of it was my fault. But let me be the first one to tell you,” he says, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “None of what you did was your fault. You were a victim.” He swallows a deep breath, “There are going to be days where it’ll be too much too bear and there are going to be nights where all those casualties will haunt you,” he admits. “But… but you’ll get there. Someday, you’ll learn to stop punishing yourself for something you didn’t do.”
And he vows that he’ll help you every step of the way.
You breathe out slowly, digesting all his words. “You can trust me,” he tells you, “I won’t let you down this time. I’ll be here.”
Blinking up at him, the small hesitant part of you so desperately wanted to say, “How can I trust you?” but his eyes were telling you everything you needed to know. Because it was filled with nothing but honour and truth.
He breaks away from you and reaches out his hand. An invitation. You stare at it for a while, then you slowly lift yours and brush your fingers amongst his before grabbing it tightly—a truce of sorts, a promise. He squeezes back in return, a loving smile on his face, just like all those nights many moonlights ago.
Your breath hitches when he pulls you into his embrace, your face burying perfectly into the valley of his chest. He wraps his arms around you in urgency, in fear, almost afraid you’ll slip out if he doesn’t.
“It’s over,” he mumbles into your hair.
Because two floors down an explosion erupts, finishing off the last remaining garrison of troops. Three hallways down, Natasha sets fire to a room that contained the other small red leather book that held those nine suffocating words written in Russian. Outside, the last Hydra officer attempting to flee falls to his knees from an arrow to the chest. And the only hope they had left to rebuild their regime was safely in Bucky’s arms.
He pulls away and uses his thumb to rub gently across your cheek, “It’s over. The war is finally over.”
Now that the worst is over, Bucky’s hopeful. There will be other conflicts to come, that was just how it worked, but this one, the one that held you and him underwater for years was finally over. War always took too much, but this time, it gave something back. Because among the ashes and ruins you came back to him, no more oceans in between.
“What do we do now?” you press nervously. You were taken at a young age and spent years in the Red Room before you were sold off to Hydra. Like Bucky, you’re in the wrong time period, there’s no one to go back to.
There’s so many things you could do, Bucky thinks. You can finally start living the life you deserved, the life that was taken from you too early. He’ll have to explain all this to his teammates but he knows they’ll understand. They treated him so well, there’s no doubt they’ll show the same kindness for you. Then, he’ll go with you to Wakanda, get rid of the words, maybe stay there for a while so you could heal—maybe show you the goats he took care of during his time there.
You’ll probably adjust to the 21st century better than him—you won’t need to start off with a flip phone, that’s for sure. He’ll make you listen to all the great records and watch all the movies you missed out on. There’s so many things he wanted to do with you. He knows you have no memories, no recollection. It didn’t matter, Bucky thinks, he would make new memories with you, ones worth cherishing and remembering. If you’ll have him, of course.
But first and most importantly, “Let’s get you cleaned up, okay? Then we can talk about it,” he says, rubbing the grime off your nose.
He grabs your hand and heads for the exit. But before he does, you pick up your knife from the floor and in one quick motion, you spin around and throw it. The knife embeds itself into the wall a few metres away, right next to a prying face. You stand in front of Bucky and stare at the intruder with a murderous gaze and Bucky’s heart races at the thought of you still wanting to protect him after everything.
The blond raises his arms up in surrender.
“Steve,” Bucky says from behind and you briefly recognize that name. You turn around to look at him and he meets your eyes, nodding. You relax your stance.
“Hi,” Steve says, voice slightly hoarse. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”
Bucky scoffs at him, as if he wasn’t eavesdropping the whole time.
Steve looks at the both of you, then a gentle smile adorns his face. “C’mon, the rest are waiting outside for you both.”
You step forward. This is it. Freedom. A new life. Bucky notices your hesitation as you suddenly stop in your tracks. Intertwining his fingers with yours, he squeezes with reassurance. You take a deep breath, then the two of you follow Steve to the exit, leaving behind the smoke and memories of your old life.
Outside, the sun comes up slowly but surely on the horizon, painting the awakening sky a gentle warm hue of oranges and pinks.
What about a teenage!Jack where his friends are over and keep commenting how his Mom (reader) is attractive and Aaron finds it funny but Jack is mortified?
this is fucking GOLD. enjoy another installment of moments au
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader
Words: 665
CW: nothing, cursing mostly.
Tags/warnings: jack's friends being pervs, cursing, jack defending his mom and dad.
Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.
Aaron honestly couldn’t blame them. He honestly found it funny, how their cheeks would flush every time you walked past, seconds away from catching them saying the most inappropriate things about you. He knew they didn’t know he could hear them from his office, the angle keeping him hidden as he tried to work while also allowing for their voices to carry down the hall.
Jack had brought his friends over for a pool day and he’d requested that the two of you leave them alone, that they could fend for themselves. But as much as he’d pleaded, you were still unable to stop yourself.
You’d made them snacks, prepared a homemade ice tea, would check in every so often to make sure they were doing okay. And every time, without fail, his friends would pretend to be utter gentlemen, thanking you profusely until you left them alone once more and they turned from the kids their parents through they were into the horny teenagers they really were.
It became clear to Aaron immediately why Jack didn’t want you around. It had nothing to do with his independence but rather the fact that his friends clearly didn’t know how to act around his mom. They’d made every inappropriate comment a teenage boy could come up with, and every time Jack would groan or roll his eyes or politely ask them to chill. But every time you showed your face the comments would start up again.
It was after lunch when shit hit the fan. You’d ordered a big family meal style delivery, had set up the large containers in the kitchen, with the boys’ help which they were eager to give, and had made a plate for yourself and Aaron. They thought you couldn’t hear them in the kitchen, thought they were being so slick, but they should’ve known better than to not wait for you to exit the room.
“I still don’t know how your dad bagged her,” Eric started, clearly teasing. “She’s just so—”
“So out of his league,” Dylan finished and the two of them snickered together.
“If I had a step mom like that…” Nick sighed and the other two chuckled, no words needed for the four of them to know what he wanted to say. Jack couldn’t help but cringe, the mere thought of his stupid friends thinking about you this way appalling.
“You boys need anything else?” you said loudly from the kitchen, a cue for them to stop talking as you pushed the door open with your hip.
“We’re okay, thanks mom,” Jack’s voice was chipper like it always was with you, always soft and kind. His friends’ immediately perked up at your requests, their eyes sparkling with what you could only imagine were requests that you definitely didn’t want to know about.
“Thank you, Mrs. Hotchner,” they practically sang in unison, their teasing only getting more pronounced as you walked down the hall, desperately trying not to give them anything else to talk about, but apparently that was completely useless.
“Check out her ass—”
“Shut the fuck up, dude,” you heard Jack groan, his patience finally running thin. His friends stilled in an instant, your instinct to fix it slowly creeping up from your heart to your brain. But Aaron was quick, his hand wrapped around your waist before you could move. “How would you like it if I talked about your mom like that?”
Silence.
“That’s what I thought,” he stated, confident. “So can you please just stop it?”
His words were followed by a string of mumbles and murmurs in agreement, ashamed apologies and admissions of guilt.
You couldn’t help but chuckle, Aaron quickly pulling you into his office so the two of you could erupt in a fit of giggles. It was cute, almost too adorable that the boy you’d met so long ago was now defending your honor to his friends, was standing up for his mom, for his dad, for his family.
okay i'm trying to get through some of the requests. i apologize for not being as active, you know how fanfiction authors' lives go off the rails sometimes.
i'm going to try and post a few of these before my "taking some time off" announcement. i've got a big week coming up but know i am trying.
tag list: @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh, @cr1minalskies, @xladyxdreamer
I just wanted to thank every one for the love I'm receiving for my other little imagines, and to let you all know that if you have anything you want me to write (character or prompt, or both) just let me know and I'll see what I can do.
Description: You had a crappy morning and are clearly struggling to stay awake. Aaron offers the two seater couch in his office to you.
You absolutely hated wearing your glasses. You despised them to no end, and in a perfect world they'd never of been created. You hated wearing them. The way they dug into the bridge of your nose. The fact they'd slip every 30 or so seconds so you'd have to readjust them. How if you pushed them up, the second you'd try to take them off they'd tangle in your hair and create a small knot you couldn't detangle until later that night. The way that the lens was so powerful that whilst it gave you perfect vision, it also elicited a powerful headache.
You loved how they looked, but far out did you hate how they felt.
Today wasn't a good day for you, in fact you couldn't even remember your last good day, but today trumped all your other bad ones. You'd woken up to the night-time construction work happening on your street at 3 in the morning. When you finally managed to get back to sleep an hour and a half later, it turns out some of the tradesmen out front had accidentally hit a water pipe and it blew up out of the ground and into the air. So not only were you now awake at 4:30 am, but you were also getting drenched as everyone in your building was evacuated out, instead of staying inside, away from the burst.
Everything had been cleared rather quickly and soon enough everyone was filing back into the building at 5 in the morning. You had an hour and a half until you had to get up and get ready for work, but this mornings events left you wide awake and unable to sleep despite how desperately you craved it.
So you decided to have an actual shower. You got undressed, took all your jewellery off, stepped under the shower head, pulled the tap and...no water came out. You spent five minutes trying everything in your power to get it working when the memories of this morning hit you and you realised the construction workers had hit the main water source.
You were frustrated, tired, naked and on the verge of tears not because you were actually upset, but because you were so overwhelmed. You had been so tired the night before and were so excited to sleep the night away, but the day had other plans for you and now you felt partially blind, struggling not to fall asleep standing up every time you blinked and your eyes lingered closed for a couple seconds longer than usual.
It was too late to get anymore sleep in before work, so wanting to at least fix one issue you walked back into your room, threw on a nightie and grabbed your contact lens case from your bed side. Walking back into your bathroom you opened the little container, your hand beside it on the sink as you bent to grab the saline solution from the cabinet, but as you went to stand back up your hand slipped and a second later you heard a plop sound come from the toilet.
You stood, frozen in time and just shut your eyes. Breathing in and out slowly you imagined all the things that could've possibly fallen in the toilet. You could just buy a new toothbrush if that's what fell in. A new roll of floss was only a couple bucks. You thought of everything that wasn't exactly what you knew it was, purely just cause you couldn't have a worse morning.
But then you opened your eyes, found your open eye contact container floating upside down in the toilet and stormed back into your room to scream into your pillow that held mascara stains.
That was how you found yourself walking into the Quantico building, with the old black framed glasses you'd stopped wearing a year or so ago perched on the bridge of your nose.
"Hey gorgeo- Whoa" Derek's hands flew straight up in the air in defence, cutting himself off mid greeting as your exhausted eyes snapped to him. You didn't look scary whoa, or ugly whoa, you looked 'I haven't slept in years and my slightly red eyes are begging you to knock me out so I can sleep for an eternity' whoa.
"Morning" You grumbled, unable to even offer Derek a grateful smile as he slowly passes you the same coffee he brings in for you every morning. You two stop at the elevator, your tired eyes staring at the metal doors, and Derek's watching and worrying about you as you slightly sway back and forth.
"You look rough. Bad night?" Rough? Bad night? You felt like hell and that was underexaggerating it.
"Stupid construction woke me up, hit a main water pipe, evacuated my apartment building, left me showerless and then stupid me knocked my contact lenses into the toilet" Derek sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, reaching out and rubbing your back for you, trying to relieve some tension. You arched away from him, and caught his frown in the elevator door, offended you flinched away from his touch.
"If you keep rubbing my back I'll fall asleep on the spot" You mumbled, barely having the energy to even speak.
"You're not going to be productive if you're fighting to keep yourself from falling asleep all day. Just go home" Derek hoped he didn't sound rude and dismissive, and thankfully relief flooded his body as you looked up and offered him a lazy smile.
"I love how concerned you are about me, but I can't go home."
"Why not?" Derek asked, frowning. It was either just go home now or get up to the sixth floor, struggle and then have Hotch tell you to take the rest of the day off, neither of which you wanted. You loved your job, you wanted to be there more than anything, but...maybe a power nap isn't such a bad idea.
"Cause then I'll be letting the team down" Derek laughed, the elevator doors opening as he slung his arm over your shoulders and practically dragged you out.
"No you won't. You look like hell, every one will understand" You squinted your eyes up at Derek as you glared at him.
"So much for calling me gorgeous" You grumbled, Derek pushing on the bullpen door and shoving you in first before following after. He used his arm around your neck to pull your head toward him, before planting a kiss to your cheek.
"Y/n, you're absolutely breath taking, but you also look like hell" You huffed, glaring at Derek before pulling his arm off of you and taking a seat at your desk. You had barely been sitting for 5 seconds before Emily stopped in front of your desk.
"I haven't seen those frames in ages. What's it been, a year?" She asked, her loud voice gaining Spencer and JJ's attention, the latter standing to join Emily at your desk.
"I hate 'em" You grumbled, glancing up at the two girls before looking back down at your desk. Emily and JJ frowned, glancing at each other, wondering what was wrong, but all questions were answered as Derek swung around in his desk chair grinning.
"She flushed her contacts down the toilet" You sucked in a deep breath, side eyeing the direction Derek's voice came from before unpacking your bag, pulling case file after case file out, and neatly stacking them on your desk.
"Usually the nerdy teen in a high school rom com takes off her glasses and puts contacts in, but here you are, choosing not to conform. Good for you" Emily teased as you looked up at her, ignoring JJ and Derek's snickers.
"I love you Em, but I'm moody and running on about 2 and a half hours of sleep" Her mouth formed an 'o' shape as she held her hands up in defence and backed away slowly.
"Drift, caught" She said before turning and heading back to her desk. You sighed to yourself, turning back to face your desk properly. You noticed in the corner of your eye Spencer leaning forward in his seat.
"Are you alright, y/n?" You looked up and toward Spencer, offering him a tiny, appreciative smile as you slowly nodded your head.
"I'm alright, thank you Spence. Just a lot of night time construction going on lately. It's keeping me up" Spencer nodded his head once before sitting back in his seat and looking down at the case file open in front of him. Slowly, you sunk back into work, despite the overwhelming exhaustion consuming you. Spencer's silence lasted seconds.
"I know I live a little further out of the city-" Spencer began, sitting forward again and easily gaining your attention, "but if it gets really bad you can always stay on my fold out couch."
You couldn't fight the smile on your face as you stared at the genuinely caring and compassionate kid in front of you. Spencer had always felt like a baby brother to you, but he had the protectiveness of an older brother.
"I might just have to take you up on that offer" Spencer smiles before getting back to work and losing himself in his own mind instantly. You look away from him before half swinging around in your chair and looking in Derek's direction. Derek feels your eyes on him and looks up, frowning as you point at Spencer, mouthing 'real friend'. He rolls his eyes, a playful smile on his face as he shakes his head and gets back to work.
For at least 3 hours you manage to keep yourself awake. Cup of coffee after cup of coffee, after energy drink, after standing in front of the freezer in the kitchen, make you think you've finally got used to being awake. But then people start leaving at around 11:30, starting lunch breaks and you start getting tired again purely at the thought of eating and doing nothing.
Hotch glances out his window, looking into the bullpen when his eyes catch you frowning at your desk. From where he is it looks like you're stuck on whatever you're working on, when in reality you'd blinked but were yet to open your eyes. Noticing most of the others aren't in the bullpen to help, he stands up and makes his way out of his office.
"Y/n?" He calls from the top of the stairs, his usual frown deepening as you don't answer. He notices you don't have headphones on and wonders if maybe you're just lost in your head, too focused to even hear him. But then he walks down the steps, getting closer, and notices the slow rise and fall of your chest.
Hotch had heard about your morning, after all, it was hard to not hear the booming voices of your team as they all spoke too loud for such an early hour in the morning. So when he stepped even closer, and noticed the faint exhale every time your chest fell, he wasn't surprised to realise you were asleep.
Despite the fact you were at work where you were supposed to be busy 24/7, Hotch wanted you to sleep. He had every intention to slowly back away and return back to his office, but you looked so uncomfortable. Your head was almost completely tilted down, chin on your chest as your shoulders hunched over. You would be beyond sore when you woke up, and Hotch didn't want that for you either. So slowly he stepped closer before crouching down in front of you.
"Y/n?" He spoke softly, placing one large hand on your knee, and the other on the chairs arm rest. You stirred but didn't wake up, instead letting out a heavy exhale as you further sunk into the seat. Hotch patted your knee with a little bit more force, using his hand on the arm rest to lightly shake the spinning seat.
Slowly, you opened your eyes, the same frown you'd worn all day glued to your face as you looked up before back down, your eyes widening when you realised who was crouched down at your knees. You immediately sat up straighter, and a little more awake as you cleared your throat, immediately starting to apologise.
"Oh god, Hotch. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" He quickly cut off your rambling with one single amused raised eyebrow. You sputtered on your words, tilting your head slightly in confusion as you stared at the slight smile playing on his lips.
"You're going to give yourself a hunch back if you continue to sleep sitting up" Your hardened expression slowly softened, a light laugh passing by your lips as you raised your hands to rub your eyes.
"I know, I'm sorry. I was doing so good" You scolded yourself, disappointed you'd fallen asleep and your boss was the one to find you, out of everyone.
"For someone running on two and a half hours of sleep, you've done good" You sighed, keeping your hands to your eyes to block out the light.
"You heard about that?" You ask, spreading your index and middle fingers apart to peak out at Hotch. He nodded, his smile still small and soft as he stared up from you, not having yet moved from below you.
"Voices travel" Hotch replied.
"Sorry" You mumbled apologetically, eyes following Hotch as he used your knee to push himself up, going back to his naturally towering height.
"Make it up to me by moving to the couch in my office?" He asked, using his foot to spin you and your chair out from under your desk. You snorted, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms over your chest.
"Sounds more like a win for me" You stated, Aaron shrugging as he stuffed his hands in his pant pockets, his gaze unwavering, locked on you.
"You get to sleep, I get my smart, refreshed agent back. It's a win win" You absolutely loved the sound of a nice couch nap, and in Hotch's office of all places.
"Really?" You asked, Hotch slowly blinking before nodding and offering you a smile.
"Mhmm" With a dramatic huff, you stood like you were being forced to do what he said, when really you could kiss him for the suggestion.
"Well... only cause you won't shut up. I've never met a man that begs so much" You pushed your chair in, following Hotch up to his office.
"I don't know if that's what I'd call begging-"
"It is" You quickly cut him off, your grin widening as he glanced back at you over his shoulder, with his smile still present. You stepped inside his office, immediately making a b-line for the couch under the window that lead outside.
"You can close the blind if you want" Hotch pointed at the open blind behind you as he closed the door to his office, grabbing a coat off the back before making his way toward you.
"It's not going to make it harder to see for you?" You asked, wanting to make sure he was 100% okay with it. He snorted, stopping in front of you and holding the coat out, waiting for you to take it.
"I think I'll live, y/n" You took the coat with an appreciative smile, watching him turn around and walk behind his desk, before you closed the blind. You put your arms through the coats sleeves, the back of it against your chest like a blanket. You went to lay down but quickly looked to Hotch.
"You're sure this is fine with-"
"Yes....the company is nice" Hotch replied softly, now sat behind his desk, flicking through a case file. The corners of your mouth slowly spread into a genuine smile.
"Even mine?" You asked, watching Hotch as he looked up and away from his work, his eyes latching onto yours.
"Especially yours" You bit back a tired grin, turning away from Hotch to hide the blush quickly rising to your cheeks. You laid down, bringing your knees to your chest as you snuggled into the large coat Hotch had grabbed off the back of his door for you. You felt your eyes grow heavy, but just before you let sleep overcome you, Hotch spoke again.
"Just don't snore" You laughed, shaking your head lightly.
I know it’s cliche but I am SO in love with the idea of BAU!reader going undercover because she resembles the victims that their unsub is targeting.
It makes hotch so damn nervous. He’s been in the field for a long time and he knows going undercover is part of the job but he has a hard time maintaining objectivity when it comes to you and the thought of something happening to you while you’re undercover makes his stomach drop out from under him.
He’s always been a focused man but it’s hyped up to an 11 when you’re well-being is on the line. He knows your capable, of course. He wouldn’t have brought you on to the team if he didn’t believe in you but it doesn’t make it any easier, watching these vile men leer at you like a piece of meat and knowing he’s just supposed to sit back and watch it unfold.
breathe
cw; bau!reader, worried aaron 🫶🏻, takes place in a bar ps hehe i live for the aaron and dave playful banter 🤭
"breathe."
the words easily slipped past aaron, as his sole focus was on you and you only.
"hotch."
again, aaron provided no response. in it's place, his jaw only tightened, the arms crossed against his chest hardened in anticipation. dave was almost positive he hadn't heard an exhale escape from the start, or any indication aaron was in fact breathing.
"aaron. breathe."
aaron's eyes whisked over to dave's. there was a slight annoyance present, but lighthearted all the same. or, as lighthearted as it could be under the circumstances.
"i know." aaron mumbled, his eyebrows raising slightly as he held his stare onto you - navigating through the crowd of people in the bar, making yourself as subtly noticeable as you possibly could.
it was true - he had full faith in you and your skills, of course he did. aaron had no doubts you would manage to acquire the unsub's interest, bait him in, and finally put this case to rest.
however, it was the unknowns he was worried about, the things that weren't in your control. what if the unsub pulled a smart move, what if something didn't go according to plan.
whaf if, what if, what if.
"but i still don't like it." he stated bluntly as you found a seat at a lonely table. it's location could be within the view of anyone in the establishment, and as you were the definition of the unsub's type, it was only a matter of time now. he also tried not to think about all the other's eyes who had been glued to yourself all night.
you were his, he kept repeating to himself.
as you scouted the place, your eyes managed to find aaron's for a spilt second - he and dave were not too far away, same as the other team members, in favor of your safety - which caused his heart rate to instantly calm. just a bit.
you had given no indication you saw him, no visible acknowledgement to not give away your cover, but because he knew you, he knew what you were silencing voicing.
calm down. i'm going to be just fine.
aaron finally let out a breath. again, he had complete trust in you, and his heart warmed how you had managed to read him and his current anxieties over the present situation. if things were to go haywire, he was at a close enough range to act fast. you were in his line of sight. you were safe.
his want to protect you would never falter, and while aaron could never actually have full control of the concept, he would always do what he could. and besides, the fact you didn't always need him - you were strong and capable on your own - would always cause a surge of pride to ripple through his chest. he was in a relationship with a total badass, what more could he ask for?
"okay." he breathed out again, as a man made his way up to you. "here we go."
You stared at the rubble of the burning building that you had just put out, and you followed the trail of burning oil.
“Hey cap?” You called.
“Yeah?”
Bobby walked over and you gestured to where it stopped.
“Arson?” He asked.
“Think so yeah. I assume they lit it here, knew the building was empty, abandoned.”
“Then why burn it?” Bobby asked.
You looked up at your captain.
“Teenagers maybe? Someone real angry? Old owner? There’s loads of reasons.”
Bobby nodded his head and placed a hand on your shoulder and you recoiled a little bit, and he took his hand off.
“Sorry, I forget sometimes. Good job.” He smiled.
You gave a small smile back and you looked around, and that’s where you found him standing there.
The face you hadn’t seen for a long time.
“Come quietly, or they all go up…” he whispered.
He held a lighter in the air and gestured to the oil on the ground, surrounding you all.
“Don’t hurt them.” You said lowly.
“Then come quietly. You and I have unfinished business.”
You clenched you jaw and began to walk forward, glancing behind you to make sure no one was watching you.
The man gestured for you to get in the car and you did, and he drove you across the city.
You had muted your radio, so you didn’t know that they were calling your name, trying to find you.
You didn’t know that they knew you were gone.
“(Y/N) answer your radio now!” Bobby yelled.
“Cap! We got oil!”
Chim showed Bobby the oil around them, and Bobby looked around while everyone was running to find you.
That’s when he saw the camera.
“Everyone in the truck!”
“We need to find them!” Buck yelled.
“And we will! There’s a camera we will find them but get in the truck!”
Buck protested for a few more minutes before he was finally pulled in and they all went back to the station.
Athena met them with the footage from the storage lockers.
You on the other hand pulled up across the city in another abandoned building, and again you saw it surrounded by oil.
“Try anything and we’ll all go up.”
You looked at him idly, and he shoved you inside, into the large empty swimming pool area and you took a few steps back.
“I’m going to get you back for what you did to me.”
He turned around, running a hand over his head as he began to pace, and you took that as your chance.
Pressing the button on your radio, you leant your head down.
“Dispatch.. this is firefighter (L/N) from the 118, be advised I am with the arsonist from our last call out, and I have muted my radio… I’ll tell you my position..”
Bucks head shot up at the sound of your voice coming through the radio.
“Everyone be quiet!” He yelled.
You rattled out your location and Buck snapped his head to Bobby.
“Truck now!”
“I’ll lead the way!” Athena yelled.
You lowered your hand from your radio, unaware you left it clicked on, they could heard everything.
“You ruined my life.”
“You did that to yourself.”
“You’re that ungrateful to me?! Your father?!”
You scoffed, shaking your head at him.
Everyone looked to Buck at the back of the truck, and he furrowed his brows a little bit.
“Did you know about their dad?” Hen asked.
“They said he was dead…”
They all carried on listening.
“You were never my father, you were a drunk can abusive bastard who beat his wife and children every night!”
“You wouldn’t listen!”
“We were kids! What did we know about listening?!” You yelled back.
He walked over and grabbed you by your jacket, pinning you to the wall and you stared at him.
“I was trying to raise you to be strong!”
“By beating us?! We were kids! Deacon was 5! I was 13!”
“You were a brat! Ungrateful and selfish! You attacked me!”
You shoved him back.
“I was protecting my brother!”
He smirked a little.
“Too bad you stopped protecting him, he begged for you to save him.”
You stared at him in horror, hands falling limp by your sides.
“What did you do to my brother?”
“I finished what I started, and now there’s just you…”
He lunged forward and punched you in the face, knocking you against the wall, and you stood there, spitting some blood on to the floor.
You stared at him.
“Fight back!”
“No.”
He growled, punching you in the face once again.
“Fight back!”
“No.”
He hit you a few more times and you dropped against the wall, breathing heavily, and you looked up at him with an emotionless face.
“You’re a coward.”
“Then fight back. Just like you did when you were younger, when you took that knife and slashed it down my face!” He roared.
“Did it hurt?” You smirked, “did it make you scream? Cry? Beg for death? Beg for forgiveness?” You whispered.
Buck stared at his radio in pure shock.
“There’s no way that’s (Y/N)…” Eddie whispered.
“It can’t be. That’s… they’ve spoken like that…” hen whispered.
They all stared at Buck who was still staring at his radio trying to process everything he was hearing.
It wasn’t you. Not the sweet you that held him when he was hurt, who laughed and smiled so brightly.
This was twisted, dark.
You slowly pushed yourself up.
“Did it scare you like you scared us?”
“I’m going to make you pay for what you did, I’ll give you the exact same scar, so every time you look in the mirror you see me.”
He pulled a knife out of his pocket and he grinned at you.
“I’ll light this place on fire before they can stop me.”
He pulled out a lighter and tossed it behind him, and you watched as the flames spread.
“How dark is it in your mind (Y/N)? Did I turn you into a monster?” He asked.
“No…”
You slowly dropped your jacket on the floor, rolling up your sleeves.
“I turned myself into a monster, thinking about what I would do to you every single day when I next saw you.”
You lunged forward and attacked him, punching him in the face, and you both fought.
It felt like a fight that went on for years, none stop, and in a way it was. You had been fighting this part of yourself for years, ever since he was arrested.
How he’d gotten out was beyond you, but you knew you’d have to face him again one day.
After what felt like forever you knocked him to the ground, and kicked the knife into the empty pool.
You looked down at him, your blood dripping on the floor from your face, your arms.
“Going to leave me to die?” He asked.
You walked over to your jacket and tied it around your shoulders as you walked back over to him.
“No. I’m not like you. I want to watch you rot in a cell.”
Kicking his head, you grabbed his arms and dragged him through the other exit of the building, coughing and wheezing as you tried to fight the smoke in your lungs.
Dragging him away from the fire, you dropped him there, and you dropped your jacket, staring at the police cars and fire engines turning up.
You watched your team jump out and they all ran over to you.
“(Y/N)!”
Buck ran over to hug you, but when you held your hand out to him, he immediately stopped, teary eyes gazing into your blank ones.
“We need to check you out.” Hen said.
“I’m fine.”
“Get checked out, you’re not fine, you’ve got a lot of injuries.” Bobby said.
“I’m fine.”
“Well, if you mean alive that counts but we still need to check you over and get you to the hospital.” Chim said.
You looked at him, then turned to Buck.
“You’re alive, and that’s what counts. Just go get help, please? I’ll come with you.”
“I’m not alive…”
“What?” He asked confused.
You looked down at the man other paramedics were checking over and turned back to Buck, looking over your team.
“I’m not alive. I died years ago, this? This is just an empty shell of me.”
“No, no that’s not true okay? I’ve seen you, I’ve heard you laugh and seen your smile.” Buck said.
Tears were running down his face and you clenched your jaw.
“We heard everything, and he can’t hurt you again.” Athena said.
You looked at her.
“He stopped hurting me years ago. These wounds? Cuts? They don’t hurt. I can’t feel them.”
Everyone shared a look.
You weren’t crying, upset.
And they wanted to put it down to shock, but hearing you talk over the radio, they knew it wasn’t shock.
“Please.” Buck whispered.
“I can’t feel anything inside of me… believe me I’ve tried… but I lost all sense of emotions, all sense of fear, pain… love… I lost it all years ago.”
You looked at your bloodied arms.
“I’m going home.”
You began to walk away, and they tried to stop you, police officers tried to stop you but no one could, even Athena was scared to get near to you when she saw the look on your face.
You went home, standing in the shower you watched the blood mix with the water and you dressed again, and went to the hospital.
They stitched up and sorted all your wounds for you, and you discharged yourself against their advice.
You spent a few days in your apartment until the door was open and you looked over from your spot at the table to the front door.
Buck walked in with everyone.
“You went to the hospital, good.” Bobby smiled slightly.
They all walked over.
“How’re you feeling?” Eddie asked.
You set the file down that you were reading, and closed it.
Gazing at them all, you stayed quiet.
“He’ll get out again.”
“He won’t, he’s being moved to a max security prison across the country.” Athena said.
“He won’t stop.”
“Why?” She asked.
You took a small breath.
“The falling is easy when you’re alone. You don’t have to worry about others or how they’ll feel about this. I can’t sleep, i close my eyes and I feel the weight of it all on my chest. It won’t leave.”
They looked at you.
“There’s no telling what I might do… there’s something in my head and it won’t go.. I’m afraid of the shadows, my own reflection because I see him in the mirror.”
“You went through a lot.” Maddie whispered.
Buck walked over, and he stood in front of you, holding out his hands.
“You’re alive, and we can help you through all of this. You just need to let us, let me help you…”
You looked at him.
“I’m broken.”
“So am I.” He smiled.
You looked at his hands and placed yours in his, letting him pull you up and he wrapped his arms around you, and you stood there for a moment.
Slowly reaching out, you hugged him back, and something inside of you clicked.
You were safe.
You had your family around you, the people who kept you safe, and tears slowly fell from your eyes as you took a shaky breath, holding Buck even tighter.
Summary: You wake up thinking everything is perfect. In reality you've been stabbed.
Warnings: Mentions of blood, getting stabbed, hella angst.
Word count: 593
The sun was warm on your skin, you could hear birds chirping in the distance and feel the soft grass under your palms. You blinked your eyes open slowly looking up at the clouds. How did everything get to be so perfect? You sat up slowly and let out a content sigh. The only thing that would make this better was if Aaron was sitting by your side. Speaking of Aaron, where was he? Where were you? When you looked around all you could see was trees, a small pond in the distance. You heard your name called out and turned to see Aaron standing there. He was smiling and looking incredibly handsome. You walked towards him but as you got closer it seemed like he was moving farther away. “Aaron what are you doing?” You called out and he simply smiled, holding out his hand for him to grab. “Come on baby, you can make it.” He kept his hand held out and you picked up your pace, almost running.
Your hand finally grasped his but it slipped, his hand was wet. You looked down at your hand and noticed it was covered in blood. Both his hands were covered in blood as they reached for you but he was still smiling. “What’s wrong, are you hurt?” You questioned. “Marry me.” He said happily. “Where is this blood coming from Aaron.” You were starting to panic. You looked down to see yourself in a wedding dress. “What the?” You took a step back from Aaron who was in a tuxedo still holding out his bloody hands. When you tried to grab his hand it kept slipping from your grasp. You noticed a red spot starting to blossom on your abdomen soaking through the white dress you were wearing. “Come on baby.” Aaron said, standing there reaching for you.
You were going to speak but it felt like someone was crushing your chest every time you opened your mouth and all you could do was gasp for air. The bright blue sky was turning dark and the sun was fading. You were cold. There was no more warmth on your skin. “Aaron!” You called out frantically reaching for him. Everytime you grabbed his hand a shock ran through your body. The beautiful world you were just in was crumbling down around you.
“I think we got her back.” A voice spoke out in the distance. You turned to try to see who said that. It wasn’t Aaron. “Come on, open those pretty eyes for me.” That was Aaron. He sounded scared. You slowly managed to blink your eyes open. His bloody hand was clutched in yours. “Thank god.” He said as you looked over at him. You looked down to see a paramedic replacing the blood soaked gauze on your stomach. Then it all came rushing back to you. The unsub stabbing you in the abdomen before Aaron shot him dead. You looked over at Aaron and tried to speak but the oxygen mask on your face was making it hard. “No it’s okay don’t say anything. Just try to relax.” He had tears on his cheeks. You weakly clutched his hand and tried your hardest to do as he said. You didn’t want to disappoint him. But damn it hurt. He leaned forward and kissed you, his beard tickling your face made you smile the best you could. No matter how hard you fought you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. He called out your name as you slipped into the darkness.
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: What happens in the aftermath of part 1, and will Bucky be able to fix this?
Warnings: Angst, talks of manipulation, Bucky is a bit of an asshole, cursing
A/N: Hope you like Part 2 as much as Part 1! None of my stories or edited or beta’d so sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes. If you want to be a part of my permanent taglist, please request letting me know that you want to be on the permanent one.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: This is a 2-parter. You’ve been just friends with Bucky since you first joined the Avengers, but is there more? You both deny it. What happens with Bucky gets a girlfriend, who may not like your relationship?
Warnings: Angst, jealousy, asshole girlfriends, cursing
A/N: I hope I made this even better than it was before. It’s a 2-parter. Part 2 will hopefully be out tomorrow. None of my stories are edited or beta’d. If you want to be a part of my taglist, please request. My old taglist no longer is active.
Author’s Note: I’m more than willing to make a Part 2 for this if any of you are keen for one :) I also have plenty of other things in the works though now. Please enjoy and as always feedback is appreciated!
Word Count: 1.2k
Content Warnings: mention of anxiety, mentions of flying, hotch is just so comfy
Summary: Hotch doesn’t understand why the newest member of the team is so dedicated to spending all their time with him. He finally asks and he’s overjoyed with the answer.
——————————=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=—————————
Five months. You’ve been with the BAU five months today. You are still in as much disbelief thinking of it now as you were all those months ago, receiving your offer for an interview. You applied for the position, a promising agent, but still fairly new to the field. You’d made a name for yourself, however, in record time, at the Crisis Negotiation Unit. You’ve always had a bottomless affinity for conversing with people. It grounds you. When you’re all alone or in a big crowd, the chatter in your mind and surroundings all becomes too overwhelming. Like a buzzing in the back of your mind, always there, always distracting you. It isn’t until you can look somebody in the eyes and connect your soul with theirs that you hear the cacophony stop. You can never swim in the silence too long, though, as the more you bask in the quiet, the more you lose it, the noise all returning.
You’ve studied anxiety and sound processing disorders, you know you likely fit into one of the above boxes, if not both. But you can’t really bring yourself to have that added to your personnel file. So, you opt to use your affinity for conversation to your advantage. You’ve mastered reasoning with people. You can show them your complete undivided attention and gain theirs, opening the door for them to give you insight into their mind. This is the skill that allowed you to climb the ranks at the CNU, opening many doors to other opportunities including the BAU.
Hii!! Can you do hotch x reader where hotch is all grumpy and reader is the complete opposite but he is all soft and cute towards the reader
perspectives
wc; 1.2k cw; bau!reader, angst, hurt to comfort, no established relationship but <3
aaron had never been a fan of car rides.
long car rides, to be exact. heading to the bau was never an issue, same with running around town, errands, taking jack to soccer. but a journey more than an hour? nearly unacceptable.
the luxury of traveling via the jet throughout the years definitely didn't help. and while numerous rides exceeded well over that hour time frame, at least that didn't compare to a car ride's length to the destination. that ideology was more manageable, easier to accept. and besides, he wasn't the one who was flying the plane.
so whenever it was necessary to make the trek to the state prison for interviews, about two hours away from quantico, it was displeasing. it was irritating. but it had to be done and complaining wasn't in his vocabulary.
the changing point, however, was you.
the first time you accompanied him, you had newly been added to the unit- still wide-eyed with innocence, not subjected to the horrors just yet, nervous yet excited jitters making you squirm in your seat.
he envied you in that aspect- being able to see the world in a lighter view. so maybe when you asked if you could turn on the radio, he didn't hesitate to comply.
and upon your second ride together, he flicked the radio on as soon as the engine started.
perhaps that gave you the confidence you were waiting for - finding an open, more inviting atmosphere to speak your mind.
"you know, you frown more in the car."
your words surprised him, "what?"
"it's true." you were relaxed in your seat, looking out the window and admiring the scenery passing by. "sometimes i wonder if you can even see past the windshield with how much your eyebrows are drawn over your eyes."
his lips fell into a line, but amusement bubbled within his chest. "i can see perfectly fine."
you laughed, and in that moment, aaron realized just how badly he needed that to grace his ears. "i would hope so. we haven't crashed yet."
aaron chuckled softly, his eyes returning to the road ahead.
"so, car rides huh?" not only was your wit quick, but so was your ability to read him like a book.
he huffed out a breath through his nose. "hate 'em."
"haven't you heard, it's not about the destination, but the journey?"
"our journey leads us to a high security establishment containing the worst of the worst." aaron deadpanned.
"sure." you shrugged, turning back towards the window. "but maybe it's all about perspective."
and maybe you were right.
as time moved forward, you became his frequent passenger. when the opportunity arose to take a drive, anywhere in that matter, you were always the first to volunteer.
it became routine- aaron tuning the radio to your favorite station upon the engine's ignition. his once silent rides were now accompanied by music, small talk followed and ultimately turned into full blown conversations. work related or not.
and suddenly aaron preferred the car to the jet, enjoying your presence and lightness you suddenly indulged him in. you were rather talented in elaborating, your intuition seemingly limitless. the conversations you fabricated were both amusing and constructive, and the two of you could partake in such for hours. you were easy to talk to, kind and open, not the one to be judgmental. and throughout, you looked at him in a way that made him feel so vulnerable it was frightening, but extremely safe. he could open up about the depths of his mind and you would still look at him the same way. in addition, he couldn't remember the last time he actually had the urge to open up. willingly.
sure, he could sit with you on the jet (and notably, he did) and get the same exchange, but he preferred the peace and stillness of just the two of you. you, him, and the open road.
and maybe more importantly, you made him feel like himself again.
-
while it was bound to happen, aaron dreaded when the job would take it's toll on you.
aaron often admired your level-headedness, your ability to remain objective and to not dwell on the darkness as many agents do; the all consuming abyss. your bubbly personality coincided with seeing the good in all things, despite all circumstances.
no wonder you got along so well with garcia.
you maintained your sense of strength, for so long, aaron feared how hard it would hit you; the realization darkness would never cease it's attempts to triumph light. and that same darkness would attempt to overcome you, no matter how much light you offered.
manageable. if he couldn't protect you from the inevitable (although, he would if he could - in less than a heartbeat), he could at least make it manageable.
slowly and surely, your inner sparkle was dimming. and he wouldn't dare allow your light to diminish.
an interview at the virginia reformatory arose, and something about this unsub had riled you up to the extreme- aaron's never seen so much fiery behind your eyes. but despite your hatred, you had insisted on going- your vigor all too similar to one he knew well.
"his guy," you seethed, buckling your seatbelt rather forcefully. "is sick. what he's done-"
"i know."
"they didn't deserve it hotch." aaron nearly flinched at the use of his name, he's gotten used to hearing aaron from you. "why do we have to drive all this way, to get stupid answers from a stupid, vile ass clown who doesn't want to speak to us to begin with? we're going to get nothing out of it. nothing."
"i see you've been hanging around dave too much." aaron commented, hoping to lighten the mood.
but your attitude didn't falter, not like it would've previously. "why do we have to go? driving all the way out there is pointless."
aaron shrugged, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. "i don't mind the drive."
you snorted a laugh, your comment flying out of your mouth. "since when?"
"since someone," aaron's eyes found yours. "changed my perspective."
"yeah, well," you slouched in your seat, mumbling under your breath. "what do i know."
"a lot more than you give yourself credit for." his answer was simple, true.
"c'mon."
"i'm serious. yeah, this sucks. it's going to be an unpleasant afternoon. but..." he paused for emphasis, bringing a sense of playfulness. "the journey."
another scoff came from you. "and what could possibly come from that."
"you never know." before aaron could overthink himself out of it, his hand reached over the center console, finding yours naturally- as if it were it's rightful place to be. where it belonged.
your hand was just as soft as he expected, somehow more, even. he gave it a squeeze, and it immediately brought a bit of light back into you. your shoulders dropped, warmth returned to your face, looking at him in a sense of awe, almost.
unknowingly to each other, both of you felt it. where aaron's touch met yours, every part of him was aflame.
"the journey." he repeated. "that's the whole point, isn't it? you never know what, or who, will be the outcome."
