east is up

BUCKY BARNES

F: how's your head? by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky you and bucky didn't exactly have a meet-cute. your first encounter is you bleeding from your head.

F: bucky being shy around a girl he likes + part 2 by @ro-is-struggling

F + A: through his eyes by @sebbytrash 𖥻 ever since bucky came to the compound, he always thought you were familiar. when he slowly regains his memories as the winter soldier, he is horrified.

F: pastel colours by @the-canary 𖥻 mr barnes, the physics teacher, seems to have a thing for stealing pens. you, an avid stationary collector, cannot stand it.

F + A: caught in the fire by @dreamwritesimagines 𖥻 growing up in a bakery right in the middle of a mob neutral zone, it’s no surprise you and bucky barnes become the best of friends. life gets in the way and you facing circumstances. whether you let bucky stand by you through it all is up to you.

A: say it by @sgtjbuccky 𖥻 you love bucky with all that you have. sacrificing yourself to save him included.

F + A: the new recruit by @angstysebfan 𖥻 you and bucky were in a good place. a new recruit to shields threatens to take it all away.

F + A: picture perfect by @writingsoftheloser 𖥻 you're steve's fake girlfriend to help make his crush jealous. you meet his best friend and fall in love with him. all while trying to keep up your facade with steve.

F + A: something domestic by @fandoms-writings 𖥻 a majority of bucky's adult life has been dedicated to the military. losing an arm and being discharged leaves bucky to try and rediscover who he is, even if it meant living a hundred miles away from the city in the middle of nowhere.

F + A: heart of glass by @buckybabesonly you and bucky rarely had disagreements, let alone he be angry at you.

F + A: accidentally in love by @creativebeang 𖥻 sargeant barnes was a complete hardass. he always had something to critique you about. a mission gone wrong flips a switch in his head and suddenly he's all over you.

F + A: the ask out by @delaber bucky barnes is no longer the charming boytoy he once was. it's completely evident in his interaction with you.

F: old fashioned by @demxters bucky was traditional, old fashioned, nothing like other men of current times.

F + A: personal ghosts by @fandoms-writings you lose bucky to the snap and he presence looms over you even after he's gone.

F + A: they don't know you the way i do by @themorningsunshine bucky overhears a conversation between a few agents, agreeing with what they have to say about him.

A: out of time by @drailyter all good things must come to an end, your relationship included

F: where or when by @hopelessromantic423 yours and bucky's friendship ended when you left without a word. you reunite over dinner and relationships are repaired.

F + A: the outbreak + part 2 by @stxrvel in your head, a self sacrifice is nothing as compared to a successful mission. bucky thinks differently and it causes your friendship with him to crumble.

F: missed you by @stuckylaufeyson bucky comes home from work missing you more than usual

F + A: relationship tutor by @samingtonwilson 𖥻 bucky is infatuated with natasha rudolph, who you happen to know from your yoga class. you reluctantly agree to be his wingwoman.

F + A: looking for a heartbeat by @justreadingfics 𖥻 you left without a word 2 years ago to finally pursue what you have been searching for your whole life. you're back in new york now and it seems that bucky's long moved on from you.

F + A: vacant mirrors by @whirlybirbs 𖥻 the blip chipped away at everyone. you were no different. dr hart shares an office with fellow therapist dr raynor. this meant that you shared a waiting room with one james buchanan barnes.

F + A: time after time by @justsomebucky 𖥻 at just seven years old, your parents got divorced. you move in next door to the barnes family. it's only right that you became friends with bucky.

F + A: until his last breath by @witchywithwhiskey bucky comforts you after a break up with your long-term boyfriend.

AARON HOTCHNER

F: mess of mine + i'm a mess but by @hotchgirlsummer you are far from SSA hotchner's type. he usually goes for those older, mature. not adorably clueless women who work at a clothes shop.

F + A: 'tis the season by @happiest-hotch 𖥻 hotch needs his family to get off his back when he visits them for the holidays. you come up with the terrible idea of being his fake-date. what's worse? you have feelings for him.

F: the mark of a lover by @wildflowerluver aaron hotchner is not a touchy person. the five times hotch has to adjust to your physical affection and the one time he embraces it.

THE BATMAN

F + A: all for us by @the-daydreaming-show 𖥻 jason's death had been tragic for the waynes. you will do whatever it takes for you to be the happy family you once were.

F + A: one bad day... by @a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all 𖥻 bruce refuses to avenge jason's death due to his moral code. you, however, do not share the same morals as him.

S: the billionaire affair by @kaleidoscopewritings19 𖥻 you and bruce rekindle an old flame, despite being married.

"No breathers out in the field," Steve grunted, tackling you and practically tossing you over his shoulder, but with enough finesse so you landed safely on your butt.

"Hey!" You exclaimed loudly in shock. If you had been looking, you would have seen how Bucky reflexively half-rose from his perch, afraid that you had actually been hurt, until he saw the way you scrunched your nose in annoyance at Steve and bounced back on your feet indignantly.

"I was making a point -" Steve ducked to the side when you launched a fist towards his head, then threw out a sharp roundhouse kick. You just managed to graze the top of his hair, and he laughed jovially.

"Almost. Try again."

Bucky settled back in his seat, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he watched you throw yourself again and again at Steve. Especially when Steve's strong arm encircled your waist, the other one hooking itself under your thigh to throw you onto the ground once more.

He clenched his fist, wishing it was him with his hands on your body instead, and in an entirely different setting.

His excuse for being in the training room was to try and see where your weak spots were and offer you pointers, in hopes that you would improve your hand-to-hand combat. You were an excellent sharpshooter, and could easily defend yourself, but needed to work on your offensive attacks.

Lately, the idea of you attacking someone head on had been making Bucky feel uneasy. Which was ridiculous, since you were part of the team and it was literally your job, but he found that it was affecting his focus out on the field. He felt like he had a constant obligation to look out for you, to protect you.

It seemed like Steve shared the same sentiment. The super soldiers were both oddly protective over you, and it had actually been Steve's idea to up your training in recent months.

The way you moaned as Steve landed a punch in your abdomen made Bucky simultaneously want to rugby tackle his best friend to the ground, and somehow planted sinful thoughts in his head. He knew Steve would never hit you with full-force, however, and made himself to stay put.

"Rogers, I swear one of these days, I'm going to kick your ass," you groaned.

He laughed again, and you took the opportunity to exploit his distraction, using your position on the floor to knock his feet out from under him with surprising force. Your kicked his shins sharply, sending him on his knees, and lunged for him.

You had him on his back for once, finally, and you grinned triumphantly at Bucky. He was mildly perturbed at your position, semi-straddling Steve, but he managed to crack a smile.

Steve finally called it a day half an hour later, leaving you and Bucky alone in the room. You were humming to yourself, stretching out your limbs. Bucky didn’t miss the way you winced slightly.

“Does it hurt?” Bucky asked, tossing you a bottle of water.

“A little, but it’s alright,” you shrugged. You took a sip, eyes sliding over to his form. He was looking particularly handsome today in a pair of form fitting black jeans, heavy boots and his leather jacket zipped up around his torso.

God, this man could be wearing a garbage bag and you would be drooling. From the first day you met him, you had developed a crush on him, hooked by his ruggedly handsome looks and tough exterior. What really made you fall, however, was that surprisingly soft personality hidden underneath. He made you laugh, too, and you loved the way the corners of his eyes creased when he smiled at you. Bucky had easily stolen your heart.

Said heart was continuously fluttering nowadays whenever you were near him, like he was a silly teenage crush. You tried to play it cool.

“So, any tips?”

Soon, you were both grappling at each other playfully, peals of laughter leaving your mouth as you “fought”. Bucky was smiling that darn smile, looking almost childlike as you circled each other.

At some point you ended up on top of him, your hands around his wrists as you pinned them back. He could easily free himself, but he humored you.

“Hah!” You called out.

Bucky’s laughter subsided slowly as he took in the sight of you, panting on top of him. His eyes inadvertently fell to your cleavage, where the swell of your breasts was oh-so-visible from his vantage point, your skimpy tank top doing little to hide your skin.

Mortified, he felt a rush of blood to his groin. He knocked you off swiftly before you could feel anything which would reveal what a pervert he was, coughing loudly to hide his embarassment.

“That’s enough,” he said, surprising you with a change of tone. You felt a little disheartened at the switch-up, confusion settling in.

“Ah, okay,” you said, nodding. He was probably getting tired of your games, knowing how you didn’t like to take everything too seriously. Bucky mumbled something about going to take a shower before he excused himself and left.

Being an Avenger was always going to be life threatening. However, you could think of nothing else you'd rather be doing than fighting alongside your chosen family, trying to make your contribution to the world, even if it meant risking yourself.

You usually considered yourself a solid team player, trusting Steve to make the right call out on the field. Now, you weren't so sure, faintly aware that maybe, just maybe, you had screwed up. Especially in situations like these, lying on concrete with your ears ringing, the metallic taste of blood in your mouth.

Smoke and dust filled your sight. Your mind was scrambled, unable to comprehend what had happened. You couldn't see a thing, but you could feel the pain in your shoulder, and you wondered if you had dislocated it or worse.

The smoke cleared. All of a sudden, Bucky's face appeared, panic clearly written in his eyes.

The pieces were slowly coming together. You suddenly became aware that Steve was lying behind you, shield in hand and positioned above you. You could hear him groaning in mild discomfort. The clanging in your ears were subsiding so you could hear him and Bucky's shouting.

Your disorientation faded, and you realized what had happened. The explosion.

Four S.H.I.E.L.D agents had gone rogue and had secretly been working for HYDRA, who had been spending the past year regaining power and presence. You had been one of the people dispatched to take them down after the team received intel on the location of their base. They had been holed up in an underground bunker beneath an abandoned warehouse, the perfect spot for a group like them.

You weren't even supposed to be in that part of the bunker, but you saw an opportunity to breach their control room, where undoubtedly you would be able to find all sorts of valuable information about what HYDRA was planning, or what terrible projects they had ongoing. Unfortunately, they had been savvier than you thought, and had implemented a safeguard in the event of a security breach.

That safeguard, as it turned out, was explosives.

Steve had found you as soon as he was made aware of what you were doing, and he had appeared no more than 15 seconds before the bombs detonated. If he hadn't been around, you were almost certain you'd be dead.

You barely had time to register Steve's appearance before you suddenly found yourself flying off your feet, Steve a blur of blue as he re-positioned himself to protect you.

"...fuck, will you say something? Are you okay?"

Bucky was screaming in your ear, and you blinked, the haze finally clearing. Alarms were blaring, Steve was back on his feet, scooping you up with ease.

"We need to get back to the Quinjet," you heard Steve bark, and he began sprinting, jumping over rubble with you in his arms, Bucky following close behind.

As soon as you boarded the jet, Steve sat you down and ordered Bucky to tend to you. He was already kneeling at your feet and inspecting your injuries wordlessly. Steve swiftly geared the Quinjet to life, desperate to get them out of the area before anything else went to hell.

"Look at me," Bucky said sharply, his voice rough. You were startled at his tone, his hands brushing your hair back as he inspected your head for any serious injuries. Blood was trickling from your temples, but from what he could tell, they were only shallow cuts. "Where does it hurt?"

"I'm fine," you managed to say faintly, the reality of what had happened slowly sinking in. You had put all of them in danger because of your reckless actions, and Steve had actually been injured because of you. You could see the blood dripping off his fingers as he sat at the console, though from the way he handled himself you knew they could only be minor lacerations.

Your eyes landed on Bucky's face then, scanning him for any signs of injury. He seemed physically unharmed, but his face was bright red and he was shaking with rage as he spoke to you. You were ashamed, knowing that he was furious you put his best friend in danger.

“I told you to stay put,” Bucky snarled, slamming his hand against the back of your seat.

"I - I know," you stuttered, vaguely remembering Bucky's request in your earpiece just moments earlier.

“Why couldn't you just listen? You had to play the fucking hero?"

"Bucky, lay off of her." Steve's warning was stern, and Bucky shot a glare at the back of his head.

"No. She was being stupid," he spat, looking back at you. "What were you thinking? Were you even thinking at all?"

You bristled then, despising his patronizing tone. “You’re one to talk. How many times have you completely gone off script and blindsided us with your decisions?” As soon as the words left your mouth, you knew it was an unfair statement.

He scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I don't think you realize what could have happened back there."

You looked at Steve again, guilt consuming you. He was focused on operating the jet, and you knew that he hadn't been seriously hurt, but he could have been. Or, worse, Bucky could have been caught in the explosion. He was lucky not to have been there.

"I'm sorry," you began, but Bucky cut you off.

"You need to take this fucking seriously," he snarled. "You went marching in there blindly, and look what happened."

"I thought I might be able to get something useful," you said weakly.

"Look how well that turned out," he said sarcastically. "You blew everything up."

You recoiled, hurt. You wondered if Bucky was actually upset that you had destroyed a valuable chance to get information on HYDRA. Though how were you supposed to know extracting the information would set off literal bombs? You had been acting quickly, wanting to get in and out. Maybe Bucky blamed you for destroying that chance.

"You can be so fucking stupid and selfish," Bucky exclaimed angrily, lashing out in full force. So reckless, doing whatever you wanted to do, without so much as a thought to how much potential harm you could be putting yourself in.

"That's enough," Steve shouted loudly, his voice angry and booming.

You flinched visibly, biting down hard on your lip to stop yourself from snapping back. Or worse, crying. Bucky walked over to the other side of the jet, away from you.

The feeling was awful. Your shoulder was burning, throat in pain from the smoke you had inhaled, and all Bucky had done was shout. It was surprising, how much your feelings hurt at his outburst.

Bucky was as tense as a statue. His mind was racing as he refused to look at you, thinking of all the worst possibilities. His heart felt as if it had literally skipped a beat the moment he saw you lying in the rubble, seconds after he'd heard the explosion and realized he could no longer hear you in his earpiece - there was a chilling moment amidst the action where he really, genuinely believed you had been killed.

Having you act so blasé about it after the fact infuriated him.

You, on the other hand, felt a heavy weight in your chest as you watched Bucky mutter to himself, the muscle in his jaw twitching. You felt so guilty, feeling so...incapable in Steve and Bucky's presence. Steve had been hurt because of you, and Bucky had every right to be mad at you. Nonetheless, his words cut you deeply.

Stupid and selfish.

The rest of the journey back to the compound was tense and silent. Bucky stared at the wall whilst you stared at the ground. As soon as the jet landed, Bucky stood up with full intention of hoisting you up against his chest to take you to the medical wing, but found Steve standing between you and him instead. Like a barrier, as if he wanted to protect you from Bucky's wrath.

"Let's get you checked out," Steve grunted, his arm once again around your damn waist as you stood.

Even though it was neither the place nor the time, jealously instinctively entered Bucky's bloodstream at the way you leaned on Steve. He wanted to be the one to take care of you, dammit, but all he had achieved was make you avoid his stare.

"Get her head checked out whilst you're at it," Bucky barked. "See if you can find out why she lost all her fucking common sense."

Tears sprang to your eyes when Bucky stormed off the jet, heading into the compound first. It hurt you more than you cared to admit that he hadn't even stayed to see if you were alright.

"He didn't mean that," Steve said quietly.

"He did," you retorted, wincing in pain as you experimentally moved your shoulder. "Shit."

"You alright?"

"Dislocated, I think."

Steve helped you to the medical wing, where you were promptly checked and - yep, dislocated shoulder. No other injuries though, thanks to Steve.

"You saved my life," you said gratefully as Steve stood beside you, wiping dried blood from his hands and face. "Thank you. I'm sorry, as well."

Steve's face was kind yet stern as he moved to stand in front of you. "No need to thank me. But yeah, the way you behaved was kind of reckless."

"I know."

He placed a heavy hand on your good shoulder, squeezing gently. "Get some rest, okay?"

"Do you think Bucky hates me?" You asked suddenly, looking up at Steve searchingly. "You know him best. Do you think he hates me now?"

Steve sighed loudly in a way that planted doubt in your mind despite his answer. "No, of course he doesn't hate you."

"I think he's at least annoyed that I risked your life," you mumbled.

"Okay, first of all, I've been in so many explosions that it's just a regular day at the office, now," Steve said, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Secondly, I think he's just annoyed that you risked your life."

You were dubious, thinking that Steve was just trying to placate you. You recalled how Bucky had glared at you before. If he actually cared, surely he wouldn't have just stalked off like that?

“I think my safety was the last thing on his mind.”

"Get some rest," Steve repeated. "Stop overthinking."

You nodded unconvincingly, all while your thoughts continued to be plagued by a certain dark haired, blue eyed man.

"She okay?" Bucky asked Steve the moment he saw him in the hallway just off the medical wing.

"You could ask her yourself, you know," he said, cocking an eyebrow. When Bucky didn't respond, he offered, "Dislocated her shoulder. Few cuts and bruised ribs. Otherwise, she's fine."

Bucky felt himself let go of a breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He had inspected you pretty closely on the jet and was sure you had been fine, though he was annoyed he didn't realize your shoulder was hurt, however part of him was still fearful. To hear Steve confirm that you were mostly fine was a relief.

"Good," Bucky said brusquely. Steve tilted his head at him, observing his best friend with judgmental eyes. The silence between them spoke volumes. “Shut up," Bucky added.

Your shoulder had been easily maneuvered back into place, though you were confined into a sling and would be for the next few weeks, rendering you useless on the field. That, combined with the gnawing guilt of putting Bucky and Steve in danger, dampened your usually upbeat self.

After being discharged from the medical wing, you had retired to your bedroom and stayed there for the rest of the day. A few mornings later, you left your bedroom at the crack of dawn, startled to see Bucky already making breakfast in the kitchen.

"Oh. Hey," you said meekly, clearing your throat as you made your way to the coffee machine.

He had dark circles under his eyes, and you wondered if he had slept at all. His hair was disheveled, like he had been running his fingers through it, and he had stubble all across his sharp jawline.

Things were weird now after his tirade at you. You considered the two of you to be friends - very good friends, actually. In fact, you would be lying if you said you didn't have a deep-rooted hope that you might become more than friends. But, after Bucky's explosive verbal attack on you, you felt so small standing in front of him. You had avoided him for the past couple of days, afraid of any potential confrontation.

He thinks you’re stupid and selfish, you reminded yourself. Each time his words replayed in your mind, a fresh wave of pain hit you. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about how harsh he’d been for the past few nights whilst in bed, tears slipping down your face and onto your pillow as you tried to sleep.

Your gut twisted in discomfort. You liked Bucky so much, and his admonishing had crushed you somewhat. You wanted him to respect you, didn't want to disappoint him, but you had achieved the opposite.

You turned your back on him and poured yourself a coffee, knowing that if you looked at him for too long, you might start crying. His face was one that you used to love looking at, loved how affectionate he was when he spoke to you, but now you were just scared. You didn’t think you could take it if he snapped at you again.

"Are you okay?" He broke the silence first, and you wondered if he actually genuinely cared about the answer. You really weren’t sure anymore.

"I'm fine," you said, nodding and moving over to the pantry to try and find something to eat. You stretched up to the shelves with your good arm, fingers curling over a bag of croissants but not quite being able to reach.

You felt his presence behind you, his chest pressing against your back softly as he took the pastries down for you, setting them down on the counter.

Bucky watched when you stiffened slightly, and felt a heavy twinge of regret at how he had spoken to you that day. He was already feeling like an ass about it, but now he wondered if you were somehow frightened of him. He knew that he had crossed a line, said some pretty nasty things.

He stepped away from you, clearing his throat loudly to catch your attention. When you half-turned to face him, he spoke.

"Look, I'm sorry about what I said the other day. It was out of line."

He could only see your profile as you bit down on your lower lip, shrugging as if to say no big deal. From the way your eyes were darting about, Bucky could tell you were holding back on your emotions. "It's okay. You were right."

Bucky frowned, watching as you chewed on the inside of your cheek. "What do you mean?"

"What I did was stupid and selfish," you said, your voice quivering. Bucky's lips pressed into a thin line as you continued. "I wasn't thinking, and I put both of you in danger. I'm sorry. You have every right to be angry at me."

Realization hit Bucky like a freight train.

"Hey," he said gently, approaching you again, his hand awkwardly curling around your wrist. He could see your eyes beginning to well up. "Don't get upset." He tilted his head at you, trying to coax you to look at him.

"I'm not," you sniffed, blinking hard in an attempt to rid yourself of your budding tears.

"When I said you were stupid and selfish," Bucky winced at those adjectives now, "I meant I just felt you were stupid to put yourself in danger, and selfish because - well, you didn't even think about what it would do to me."

Your brow furrowed at Bucky's rushed explanation, looking up at him quizically. Your eyes were still glistening, and his heart ached.

"I don't understand."

Bucky made a slightly frustrated noise, releasing your wrist. He planted his hands on the kitchen counter instead, trapping you, your lower back pressed against the marble edge. He sighed loudly, making you swallow nervously.

"Bucky?"

"I care about you," he began, suddenly unable to articulate himself properly as he looked into your eyes. “A lot. As in, a lot."

"Oh-kay..." The syllables were long and drawn out. You were still nonplussed.

"No, you don't get it," Bucky said through gritted teeth. He cast his mind back to the events in the bunker, that same fear creeping into his system. "There was a second where I heard the blast, and I thought you were done for. I was terrified."

Bucky leaned closer, so close that his forehead was almost resting on yours. His eyes fluttered closed. It was easier if he didn’t look at you to voice his feelings.

"There was a very real moment where I thought I lost you, and it was horrible." The unspoken meaning hung in the air. I can't live without you.

His confession made your heart rise in your chest with surprise and disbelief.

"Oh, Bucky." The way you spoke his name made him want to hold you tight. "I had no idea you cared so much," you said softly.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, and they were anguished. "That's the problem. I'm so scared of showing you my feelings that you had no idea I care about you more than anything." He scoffed, shaking his head. "I don't know what I was so afraid of. The idea of you being hurt is infinitely more terrifying than telling you how much I really like you."

“I - really?” His words were black and white, but you were afraid to truly believe them.

“Did you know,” Bucky began, lifting his hand to brush his knuckles against your cheekbone, “how much I want to protect you? Keep you from harm? At first, I didn’t understand it, but then I realized that I was falling for you.” He took a deep breath. “It’s been so long since I felt anything like that for anyone, that I barely recognized what it was.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed down his nerves. He knew he had to tell you how he felt. The way you were gazing at him now in pure adoration was motivation enough.

“I want to be with you, as more than friends.” He let out a soft huff of laughter, like he was amused it had taken him so long to admit something so simple.

You lifted your hand to cup the back of his neck, feeling a renewed confidence and sense of happiness at his words.

“I should have told you long ago how much I like you, too,” you whispered. Bucky's chest swelled in happiness at your admission.

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?" He asked quietly, his eyes flickering down to your lips.

You’re a fairly understanding person. When he has to leave suddenly for a case, you don’t mind. When he gets caught up in work and suddenly it’s almost nine at night and he’s still at the BAU, you just laugh. When he wants to go everywhere possible with you because he’s having a hard day with his anxiety (even if he won’t admit it), you let him follow you around like your personal bodyguard.

You knew what you signed up for when you took things further than a few dinner dates. You understand.

Which is why tonight’s argument is so stupid.

“I just need a straight answer. That’s all.”

“I don’t know what else you want me to say,” you shrug. “I literally don’t care, Aaron.”

“I don’t want to make all the decisions,” he replies. “I want you to have some say.”

“But I don’t mind it if you make the decisions.”

“It feels one-sided, and I don’t want that.”

“It’s fine, I swear.”

“I can see on your face that it’s not.”

“Don’t profile me, we talked about this.”

“I’m not profiling you, I’m just trying to get you to tell me the truth for once.”

“Well, I--”

Your sentence stops abruptly when you gasp, flinching, raising both of your arms in an X in front of your face.

And just like that, the argument is dropped.

All Aaron had done was raise his hand to run his fingers through his hair. But in the midst of an argument -- and on one of your worse days with your PTSD -- you legitimately thought he was pulling his hand back to hit you.

“Y/N…” He slowly lowers his hand, gaze softening when he hears you sniffling. “Honey…”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, your arms still raised. You know he would never, ever hurt you, but you can’t move them. You’re trying, but it’s like all your muscles have tensed, refusing to let you move. “I won’t do it again, I’m sorry,” you say, rushing your words now. “Just please, don’t…”

It’s not until Aaron hears these words leave your lips that he realizes you’re not here right now -- at least not in your mind.

He doesn’t know anything about your past relationship. He put a few pieces together and knew it wasn’t necessarily a happy relationship, but he had no idea it was that bad.

“Y/N, it’s Aaron,” he pauses, mind reeling, trying to figure out how to get you back. “Can you hear me?”

“I won’t-- I’m sorry, please--”

“Y/N, you’re at my apartment with me. Can you open your eyes?”

You hear his voice this time and you open your eyes, a gasp falling from your lips as you yank your arms down to your sides. “I’m so sorry--”

“What are you apologizing for?” He asks softly. “You have no reason to apologize, Y/N.”

“Okay…” You say, flexing your fingers to ease some tension. “Well, still, about--”

“No, no we don’t need to talk about that anymore,” he shakes his head. “It’s not a big deal and I think this is more important.” He pauses. “But if you don’t want to talk about it, I...I completely understand. No pressure.”

You exhale, balling your hands into fists. “We can talk.”

“Okay. Wanna sit down?” He gestures to the couch.

You nod.

“Can I sit next to you?” He asks, and you’re grateful for his ever kind heart.

“Of course,” you smile. “Please.” And when he still sits a little too far away, you tug him closer. “You’re not going to break me.”

“I know that,” he says, smiling when you take his hand. “Are you okay?”

You have no idea how, but you are. “I am. I’m sorry I freaked out.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he says again, sandwiching your hand between both of his. “You can’t control your reactions.”

He’s right, even though you have suppressed them for a very long time. “I try to. I don’t want to scare you.”

“I don’t want to ever scare you,” he says, squeezing your hand. “I’m sorry that I did.”

“It wasn’t you.” He gives you a look with a hint of disbelief. “Okay, it was the sudden movement, I think. With your hand.”

“Okay,” he nods. He had already pieced that together, but now isn’t the time for him to talk about how he silently profiles you. “I’ll be more conscious of that.”

“Honestly,” you chuckle, “I’m not sure how you haven’t pieced it all together before now.” You pause, looking up from his hands. “Have you? Be honest.”

“Some things,” he admits. “Little things. Your problem with eye contact and agreement to everything -- and I should not have approached the topic that way. We’re both tired and that wasn’t the correct way to talk about it.”

“It’s…” He raises his eyebrows and you stop before you can say okay. “Right. I see now.”

“I gathered that the relationship, whatever it was, wasn’t healthy, but I never wanted to bring it up until you were ready. And I know it goes without saying, but I want to say it anyway. I will never lay a hand on you. I promise.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, lifting your free hand to stroke his cheek. “You have been so kind to me and I never know what to do with myself.” You shake your head slowly, smiling. “It’s like every time I start floating away, you’re right here, pulling me back down to earth.”

He lets go of your hand to wrap his fingers around your wrist, keeping your hand on his cheek so that when he turns his head, he kisses your open palm. “I’ll always be here to pull you back down.”

You let some silence pass before you say what you’ve been hiding all this time.

“He used to hit me,” you whisper. “It’s why it had been five years since I went on a date. Honestly, if Dave didn’t speak so highly of you, I don’t know that I would’ve even said yes that night. But I’m glad I did.”

“I’m glad you did, too.”

You smile softly. “Everything about you is so different from what he was. You’re such a gentle giant, you know that?”

He chuckles at the new description. “I guess I do now.”

“I just want you to know your gentleness never goes unnoticed or unappreciated. I love it. It makes me feel safe and loved and cared for. And I’m not used to it at all yet, but...I hope I’ll get there.” You pause. “I was having a rough day today with flashbacks and things. Today was our anniversary, but none of them were ever good, so I’ve been on edge.”

“Honey…”

“Even though I know nothing will happen because he’s gone and nothing bad has happened on this day for six years, it still… I still can’t shake it.”

“Well, let’s do everything we can to make the rest of this day the best day,” he says. “Let’s order your favorite for dinner. You pick the movie, and we can sit on the couch until we want to go to bed.”

“And then?”

“And then…?” He waits for your answer.

“And then...you make sweet love to me all night and go into work late tomorrow?” You add a shy grin, hoping to convince him.