My Sims Sweet Escape

List of Installments

Part One: "The Night You Met"

Part Two: "The One-Sided Pining"

Part Three: "The Time Daredevil Saved You"

Part Four: "The Night You Almost Kissed"

Part Five: "The Wedding Day"

Part Six: "The Wedding Night"

Part Seven: "The Post-Wedding Brunch"

Part Eight: "The First Date"

Part Nine: "The Pool Game"

Part Ten: "The Growing Insecurity"

Part Eleven: "The Night Together"

Part Twelve: "The Week You Tried to Avoid Matt"

Part Thirteen: "The First Time He Walked You Home"

Part Fourteen: "The Time Matt Got Jealous"

Part Fifteen: "The Vulnerable Side of Matt"

Part Sixteen: "The Time You Saved Daredevil"

Part Seventeen: "The Revelation in the Rain"

Part Eighteen: "The Visit to Fogwell's"

Part Nineteen: "The Time You Almost Told Him"

Part Twenty: "The 'I Told You So'"

Part Twenty-One: "The Time You Did Tell Him"

Part Twenty-Two: "The Night You Couldn't Sleep"

Part Twenty-Three: "The Day of Phone Tag"

Part Twenty-Four: "The Devil and the Baker"

Part Twenty-Five: "The Leather Couch"

Part Twenty-Six: "The Big Win"

Part Twenty-Seven: "The Grocery Run"

Part Twenty-Eight: "The Early Morning Wake Up"

Part Twenty-Nine: "The Questions Over Coffee"

Part Thirty: "The Introduction at Clinton Church"

Part Thirty-One: "The Flight to Chicago"

Part Thirty-Two: "The Night He Couldn't Sleep"

Part Thirty-Three: "The Thanksgiving Dinner"

Part Thirty-Four: "The Ex Encounter"

Part Thirty-Five: "The Very Bad Day"

Part Thirty-Six: "The Cozy Night In"

Part Thirty-Seven: "The Bad Dream"

Part Thirty-Eight: "The Black Suit"

Part Thirty-Nine: "The Secret Santa"

Party Forty: "The Secrets in Your Suitcase"

Party Forty-One: "The First Half of the Trip"

Part Forty-Two: "The Argument in the Hotel Room"

Part Forty-Three: "The End of the Trip"

Part Forty-Four: "The Christmas Eve Party"

Party Forty-Five: "The Christmas Dinner"

Part Forty-Six: "The Night of Christmas"

Part Forty-Seven: "The Devil in Need"

Part Forty-Eight: "The Perfume"

Part Forty-Nine: "The Cemetery Visit"

Part Fifty: "The Interview"

Part Fifty-One: "The Devil's Wrath"

Part Fifty-Two: "The Breaking Point"

Party Fifty-Three: "The Downward Spiral"

Part Fifty-Four: "The Impossible Friendship"

Part Fifty-Five: "The Disheartening Valentine's Day"

Part Fifty-Six: "The Nightmare"

Part Fifty-Seven: "The Rough Conversation"

Part Fifty-Eight: "The Aftermath"

Part Fifty-Nine: "The Necessary Conversation"

Part Sixty: "The Long Awaited Kiss"

Part Sixty-One: "The Things You Didn't Know"

Part Sixty-Two: "The Pinky Promise"

Part Sixty-Three: "The Dinner Party"

Part Sixty-Four: "The Lesson at Fogwell's"

Part Sixty-Five: "The Shower"

Part Sixty-Six: "The Night Out"

Part Sixty-Seven: "The Morning in Bed"

Part Sixty-Eight: "The Sleepover"

Part Sixty-Nine: "The Lunch Date Delay"

Part Seventy: "The Thoughts About the Future"

Part Seventy-One: "The Sleepwalking"

Part Seventy-Two: "The Belated Valentine's"

Part Seventy-Three: "The Easter Sunday"

Part Seventy-Four: "The Boy's Night at Josie's"

Part Seventy-Five: "The Hangover"

Part Seventy-Six: "The Request"

Party Seventy-Seven: "The Very Frustrating Day"

Part Seventy-Eight: "The Night You Cooked Together"

Part Seventy-Nine: "The Hell Day"

Part Eighty: "The Revisitation of Moving In"

Part Eighty-One: "The Nighttime Visit"

Party Eighty-Two: "The Overload"

Part Eighty-Three: "The Really Bad Idea"

Part Eighty-Four: "The Late Night Snack Hunt"

Part Eighty-Five: "The Romantic Voicemails"

Part Eighty-Six: "The Moving Day"

Part Eighty-Seven: "The Week of Distractions"

Part Eighty-Eight: "The Birthday Brunch"

Part Eighty-Nine: "The Stray"

Part Ninety: "The Ring"

Part Ninety-One: "The Helping Hand"

Part Ninety-Two: "The Recurring Nightmare"

Part Ninety-Three: "The Unexpected Introduction"

Part Ninety-Four: "The Offer"

Part Ninety-Five: "The Evening of Insecurity"

Part Ninety-Six: "The Quiet Morning at Home"

The mattress creaks and the frame knocks into the wall, chipping the paint, denting the wood where the two meet.

Forehead to forehead, sweat accumulating with torrid breaths and aching muscles, Bucky's hips caught to yours. Pressing, slamming, holding down as he clenches his glutes and humps, elongating the pleasure, taunting.

But the light chime of his tags kept ringing. They keep batting across your chest, cold and moist, patting your chin and dragging across your skin when you were right there.

It was just as your legs fell open, knees laying up as his dick dragged in and out, and he willed his noises to stay at a minimum, when the tags flittered to the dip of your neck. Your lips parted, sighing, rolling your eyes as it tap tap tap's and sings against your hot skin. You move, careful not to ruin the precision, pressing the chain against his peck, holding them firm to his chest.

At first, Bucky almost sat up, almost paused to ask if you were okay — pushing at his sternum, brows taut and eyes glassy, whining with every breath. Instead he pushed deeper, metal fingers drawing up your body until they held your jaw, squeezing your cheeks, making you look into his eyes.

"What's the matter?" His breath sticks to your face, bumping his nose to yours. "Pushin' me away? C'mon, speak to me."

You can't. That's the problem. It feels like with each pull and push, each pulse around his cock, and every kiss his tip grants your cervix, he drives all linguistic knowledge out of your brain, spilling it from your lips in garbled nonsense and breathy moans.

A whiney hum spills out as you tighten your lips into a line, keeping your jaw firm. You lean back into the pillow, shutting your eyes trying to find any semblance of words, but his hips keep moving. Slower now, yet still as effective, still holding you rigid and perfectly, and tauntingly precise. Rutting the length of himself inside of you while the fuzz of hair that littered the base kept grazing your clit. It isn't until one hand claws at the meat of his shoulder, and the other, the hand that pushed at the chain, leaving tiny dents in it's wake, fisted at the metal.

It clinks as the tags stay dangling from your palm, bumping to and fro.

"Oh, sweetheart," Bucky soothes, the warm metal of his thumb strokes against your bottom lip, slicked with spit and salty with sweat. "We're they botherin' you?"

You nod quickly, leaving a sharp smile on his face, dipping down to leave gentle kisses against your jaw.

"My smart girl," you keen into the praise, leaning deeper into his hand, letting his voice rasp and vibrate into your skin, leaving more room for him to lick and kiss. "Thought you wanted me to stop."

Ardently, you shake your head, ruffling your hair into the pillow behind you.

"No, no stopping. 'M not gonna stop." And he doesn't. His flesh hand replaces your own around the tags and he slots them between his teeth.

Salt and iron cover his tongue, sweat that had dripped from his down body, and your own that had mixed in as it had laid against your own skin, or tapped annoyingly your neck. It makes a dull sound as they sat firmly between his teeth, braced to the side, just where his molars start and his canines dig into the printed letters of his name.

It shouldn't be hot.

The sight of his mouth full, his teeth bared, carrying something precious with an iron grip of his jaw, made your walls pulse. You almost wanted to swap it out, to reach up and take the tags in your own mouth, enveloped in the debauched taste of century old metal, skin and spit.

But its hedonic. You love how he looks. Skin slick, chest heaving, drool already pooling at the edges of the tags, at the corner of his mouth right where his lips met. Animalistic in a way.

"There we go, there we go," his speech muffled, yet still affirmative and firm as he brings back the pace. Making your head drop back and mouth hang open on a gasp, arching your back. The warmth of his palm glides up your torso, leaving goosebumps as he drags up and down, before pulling your leg up by the thigh to latch onto his waist and holding you firmly at the hip. All while holding himself up on his forearm, vibranium fingers holding the top of your head reassuringly, grazing his thumb on your hairline.

He hums, unable to speak with his mouth full, unable to gather the spit about to fall. Your hands claw at the contorting muscles of his shoulder blades, moving to capture his hair between your fingers.

The tug you force has him stuttering, hips pressing to your own, the hair surrounding his base tickles again, right against your nub.

"Oh—fuck," you breathe out, jaw slack and tight all at once, the light feeling of release easing up your back as your thighs begin to tingle and tremble around his torso. "Bucky… Bucky, please."

The rivulets of spit drop, coating your neck and chin, and he follows them down until his hot, wet breath finds your temple. His chest caves with each inhale, keeping his hips up, holding down the pace that has you throbbing up his shaft, your nails digging into his shoulder and thighs shaking. He can feel the ring around the root of him, creamy and white, mixed in with the dark patch of hair.

The tags tinkle dully, let go from the cell of his teeth to lay wet next to your neck. You pay no mind to the slurping sound of him gathering spit from his lips; only staying in the blissed out haze of Bucky's body atop of yours and his pretty cock slapping in and out of you.

"C'mon, c'mon…" he repeats like a mantra, whispering under his breath, heated on the shell of your ear. "You got it, fuck, you feel so good. Wanna cum—cum inside of you, wanna push it in deep, n'keep fuckin' it in… Please, please, please…"

As your nails print crescents into his skin, your mouth holds a jumble of 'yes's to his shoulder. Balm and torrid to the meat of his shoulder, your body locks and a sweet ache begins to release around the stretch of him. Your lips press to his collarbone, muffling the shudders and whines and gasps that release as he fucks you through it, wet slaps and mumbled grunts chorusing together while you jolt and pulse.

It isn't long until he follows through, finishing deep inside, pressing and holding himself as his cock twitches with each spurt of cum. As if awoken from his daze, he keeps his hips moving.

Splatterings of white coat both of your pelvises and thighs, shuddering with overstimulation, muscles limp from overexertion, eyes half lidded and lips parted and red.

Bucky slowed himself as your jerking lessened and your teeth bared to hiss at the mild pain, and his dick softened. He watched, holding himself up with his knuckles to the pillow, guiding the softer limb to stay inside of your full warmth, uncaring about the mess that now coats his fingers — absentmindedly licking them off like candy residue.

Sighs and soft groans alike leave you both as he slips out. Your nails caress his torso, gliding gently up the red marks you printed on his back, down to the sensitive muscles of his ass, making him twitch and press his hips to yours again with a stifled laugh to your jaw.

"Careful, might get hard again before I can clean you up." He kisses and breathes you in, holding you into his body as your fingers hold their gentle rhythm.

You huff a lazy version of a laugh, nosing against the sweet smell of sweat where his neck meets his shoulder.

"Oh no, how awful," You croak sarcastically. The weakness in your voice makes you both laugh fully, rumbling chests pressed against one another, cheeks tight with smiles, and eyes watching with warm fragments. After a short moment of silence, of lungs catching up, you follow down the column of his neck to where his dog tags laid lopsided on your chest, and hummed. "I liked that thing you did."

"'That thing'?" He pressed, smirking, lowering his voice. "I've got many things goin' for me, sweetheart, be specific."

Another laugh breaks, crinkling your eyes at the corners, playfully pushing at his chest.

"That dog tag thing, you know, putting them in your mouth."

"You liked that?"

You nodded, fervently. "Uh-huh. Very much."

His lips move into a soft smile, catching the slick metal cards between his fingers to bring them up.

"That so?" He teases quietly, dragging them across your bottom lip, leaving the dewy residue to sit, sliding them just between the seam of your lips only to jut it out with a pop. "Maybe next time you can hold them for me?"

With your tongue poking out, you get a taste of the flavour that pooled alongside Bucky's own tongue. Musky and sour, tangy with body heat. And with a soft press on your thigh, you know that you're under a limit.

"Next time meaning five minutes?" You prod, tilting your head innocently. "Haven't even gotten cleaned up and it seems like little Sergeant Barnes is reporting for duty."

With a tut, he holds your chin, shaking his head. "Nuh-uh, fuck that and your smart mouth. Open wide, hold tight."

You obey and bite down as he slots the tags between your teeth, tugging at the chain twice to test out your grip. You scrunch your nose and furrow your brows, playfully pulling back at the chain. The grotesque brackishness of the tester you got grips you fully and drips down your throat.

"'Little Sergeant Barnes'," he repeats, sitting up as far as he could to grab ahold on himself. Sticky, wet and just as hard as before. He strokes himself, groaning as he fists tighter at his ruddy tip, coaxing a pearl of precum. Defiantly, he taps his heaviness on your clit. "Keep that up and making sure every inch of you aches with me the next day, understood?"

A giggle bubbles up before you could force it down. He slaps his cock against your clit again, holding and coating it down and between your lips, still creamy and dripping his own release, bullying your button with his tip. Your whine is muffled between your teeth as you bear them down.

"Understood?" He pushes, voice firmer, harsher, and you nod, heart racing, ribs already quivering. The sounds of your joint bodies squelch louder and louder, as your head lays dizzier and dizzier, but his voice whispers so soft and the way he terrorises and hounds your insides brings stars to the corners of your eyes.

taglist: @devililithh @buck-star @buckyfmd @nikkitabarnes @miraclediviner @barnes-babydoll @kqtholins @wint3rbarnes @swimmingnightcolor @ilovestizzy @chronic-fangirl-222 @ornateglass @bucklesby-barnes @avgdestitute @demiebarnes @sunkissedspell @stanmarvelous @castielscaplan @ladymiseryy @phoenix-in-writing @layaflores @wherewinterblooms @sunday-bug @buckybunni @filthgf @angelryex @megsavengersslut @sassandscribbles @amidnightwish21 @goobers-mcgee @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @angelryex @iloveotters101 @venigrantrogers

marvel taglist: @colettebarnes @marvel--obsessed @pughsbelova @quantumbarnes @my-drvidess

seb taglist: @slutdier @clover1004 @colettebarnes @metal-armed-muse @68ep @herejustforbuckybarnes @quantumbarnes @buckysdecaflove @erina00 @onyx8514

Hey!! Today I'm bringing you this really cute pride makeup, inspired by the rainbow flag and a few other pride flags. I've labeled everything so it should be easier to navigate. Have fun!

Credits: arowenc for the original textures, @paluding for the Tattooer.

♡ Download ♡

SFS | simblr.cc

♡ Swatch ♡

⋆ Pride Blush Facepaint - PU-EU, 2 swatches, layerable with other makeup and face paints, will go under most makeup ⋆ ⋆ Pride Heart Facepaint - PU-EU, 2 swatches, layerable with other makeup and face paints (including the Pride Blush) ⋆

⋆ Pride Eyeliner - CU-EU, 4 swatches ⋆

⋆ Pride Eyeshadow - CU-EU, 8 swatches ⋆

⋆ Pride Eyebrows - PU-EU, 10 swatches ⋆

It was short, the tug on your leg.

You peer down to see a little girl. Soft brown hair with little clips to keep it out of her face, round face and blue eyes that were full of fear.

“Hey there,” you say, and crouch down. “You okay?”

She blinks, tears falling down her cheeks. “I can’t find my daddy.”

“Hey, hey,” you reach to rub her shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

She lets out a sob, unable to control the hysteria shaking her small frame.

“Oh sweetheart,” you breathe, and offer her your hand. “Hold my hand, we’ll find your daddy. Don’t worry.”

She continued to sob, unrestrained sounds that twisted your heart.

You walked slowly down the aisle, allowing her to keep pace with you, heading for the large central aisle where it would be easiest to be found.

“El!” You hear someone shout.

“Daddy?” The little girl turns her head, her eyes alert and wide.

You peek over your shoulder to see a man rushing over.

“Oh my babygirl,”

The girl lets go of your hand, her little feet pushing her forward into the arms of the man.

You smile to yourself, relieved, yet feeling a little out of place at witnessing the reunion.

The man presses his forehead to the little girl’s, his daughter you assumed.

“Are you okay?” He spoke quickly. “You aren’t hurt?”

She shakes her head. “I saw glitter pens, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he spoke as if to himself. “You’re safe.”

It was then his eyes flicker up to you. They are the exact same shade as his daughter’s, a light blue that gave away more emotion than any expression. His hair was the same colour also, pulled back into a messy bun. His face differed from hers entirely, a strong jawline marked with stubble peppered with grey, and faint lines across his forehead and eyes.

He scoops his daughter up with ease, her body looking tiny next to his large build.

“Hi, uh,” he shifts awkwardly.

“Hi,” you press your lips together nervously.

“I, uh, thanks for taking care of my Eileen,” he says.

You shake your head. “It was nothing, only for a few minutes.”

“Still,” his lips twitched. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” you shrug and turn to walk away.

“Come back!” the little girl, Eileen, called.

“El,” you hear her father hiss. “Leave the lady be.”

You feel a tug on your hand, and peek down to see the girl, who must have forced her way down and rushed to catch you.

“What’s your name?” She asked.

You tilt your head, giving it quietly.

“Pretty,” she smiles. “You’re pretty.”

“Eileen Barnes,” you hear her father call out disapprovingly.

“What?” Her eyes moved to her father. “She’s pretty.”

Her father sighs. “She’s busy, babygirl. Let her go.”

“It’s okay,” you say quietly, and crouch to Eileen’s level.

“I think your dad is wants to get going,” you tell her softly.

She frowns, her eyes appearing watery once again. “I don’t want to.”

Her father stepped closer.

“Eileen,” he put a hand on her back. “That is enough.”

His voice was gentle yet firm.

“But Daddy,” she began to protest. “She’s pretty and kind. Can we be friends?”

“El, it’s not that easy,” he breathes.

“It’s okay,” your voice came out stronger. “Eileen?”

She peeks up, her eyes meet yours.

“I can be your friend,” you say to her.

“Daddy’s friend too,” she insists. “Daddy is always alone. Daddy needs a friend.”

“Eileen,” her father’s face was starting to go red.

You laugh quietly. “That’s up to your daddy.”

She looks up expectantly at her father.

“El, I—” he looks at you, eyes moving up and down you.

“You are pretty,” he murmurs. “Really pretty.”

You feel blood rush to your cheeks.

Eileen beams, her eyes moving between you and her father.

“I’m Bucky,” he holds out a hand to you. “Bucky Barnes, this is my daughter, Eileen.”

You reach out, allowing him to shake your hand, his hand rough to touch, yet gentle.

“Hi,” you breathe, still a little flustered from his compliment.

Bucky smiles, an expression that makes your heart stutter a moment. The pull of those pink lips, the way it crinkled at the edges of his eyes. It felt like you could stare at him for days and never tire of him.

“I—” he cleared his throat. “Look I know this is, uh, weird. But, Eileen likes you, and she won’t stop until I ask. Would you… do you want to get coffee sometime?”

“Oh,” you stammer. “Yeah, sure.”

You reach into your bag, ripping off the bottom of your shopping list and pulling out a pen, then scribbling down your phone number.

You fold it in half and hold it out between your fingers.

He takes it carefully.

“Text me?” You ask with a small smile.

“Uh,” his eyes move to your lips for a moment. “Yeah, yeah. I will.”

Your smile widens and you pat Eileen on the head.

“See you around then,” you say. “Eileen… Bucky.”

Eileen looks up at her father grinning.

“She’s nice,” she says as if it were the most important thing in the world.

Bucky holds the piece of paper tightly between his fingers, eyes on you walking away.

“Yeah, she is.”

That evening you’d checked your phone constantly, waiting for the text that never came. You checked again the next morning to nothing, and began to wonder if you’d written the wrong number.

A few more days pass, when you hear your phone buzz once.

You reach over from your place on the sofa, eyes still on the comforting program you are watching.

A quick glance shows a text from an unfamiliar number.

Hey, it’s Bucky. We met at the grocery store the other day. Do you still want to meet for coffee sometime?

A small smile graces your face, warmth filling your veins. He hadn’t forgotten.

I’d love to. Any recommendations? x

You send the text without thinking, jerking slightly as you realise that you’d put a kiss on there out of habit.

A few minutes pass before the next buzz.

There’s a coffee shop in the park?

Immediately another text followed.

Eileen will be coming, she can play on the swings whilst we chat x

Your lips part, seeing him also put a kiss made you smile wider.

That’ll be nice. I’d love to see Eileen again! x

She’s dying to see you again, been pestering me every day to skip work to take her x

You laugh at that.

I’d skip work for her x

There is a brief pause.

I would too, if I could. Would Saturday work for you? Say around 9am? x

You check your calendar briefly, confirming what you already knew - you weren’t busy.

That will be fine. Pretty early don’t you think? x

El will be asking when we are going all day if not. She likes to get me up at 6, and there is no stopping her once she is up x

You laugh again to yourself, there was something endearing about how this man complained about his daughter, yet you could hear his adoration for her.

I’ll be sure to get there in time for Eileen x

Appreciate that, doll. See you Saturday x

You duck your head slightly at the nickname, slightly embarrassed at how your heart squeezed despite being alone.

The park is quiet, filled with only a few people running or cycling and the distant sounds of birds.

It takes a few minutes to walk to the coffee shop, the temperature is warm, not too hot to be uncomfortable but cool enough you could wear a light jacket.

The air fills with the smell of freshly baked goods and coffee, the shop itself is small, most of the seating outside on paving slabs overlooking a playground.

You linger a moment, only seeing people enter to take out and then depart. You turn, scanning the area before reaching for your phone checking for a message. There was none.

You silently remind yourself it is only ten to nine, he wasn’t late.

The sound of your name startles you. Your head whips around until you notice little Eileen running at you.

You crouch down allowing her to fling her little arms around you.

“You came!” She declared as you broke apart.

“Of course,” you reach and boop her nose with your index finger. She grins, reaching to do the same to your nose.

You hear someone chuckle above you, and look up to see Bucky. He’s in dark blue jeans, a wool jacket with a hint of red peeking underneath.

“Hi,” you smile at him.

“Hey,” he greets you.

“Daddy!” Eileen rushes back to her father, grabbing his hand and pulling him forward.

“She came! She came!” The little girl bounced in place with enthusiasm.

“Easy El,” he speaks softly. “I’ve already lost one arm, I don’t need to lose another.”

You get to your feet, noticing the girl pulling on his metal fingers.

You feel yourself smiling at the sight. “Shall we go in?”

Bucky nods politely, wrapping his hand around El’s.

“Ohhhh,” Eileen pulls away from her father, the moment you enter. “Look daddy! Pain a-“ she frowns as she thinks. “Pain Aux Chocolat!”

Bucky chuckles with a shake of his head.

“She has a lot of energy,” you note.

“Yeah,” he puts his hands on his pockets, glancing at you a moment before returning his gaze back to the little girl. “She’s always like this.”

“She wanders off a lot?”

“Mhm,” he sighs. “She saw some glitter gel pens when you found her. One minute he was next to me, I turned to reach for some tins and then she was gone.”

“All that for gel pens?” You ask, amused.

“Yep,” he gives a slight smile. “They kept her busy whilst I made dinner.”

You let out a snicker.

“What?” His eyes now return to you.

“I’m sorry,” you press your lips together to suppress your smile. “That’s cute.”

“Hm,” he huffs. “Cute, eh?”

You give him a timid shrug and step forward to join Eileen.

“Hi,” you greet the barista. “Can I have a Latte, one croissant, a pain aux chocolate…” you look down to Eileen. “Would you like a drink, El?”

“Hot chocolate!” She declares. “Please.”

“A hot chocolate,” you turn to Bucky. “Bucky, what would you like?”

He recoils in surprise and approaches, your back tingles as you feel him behind your back. “A black coffee please.”

The barista puts it all in and you pull out your card, tapping it against the reader.

“They’ll just be a few minutes,” the barista tells you.

“Thanks,” you smile and walk around.

“You should have let me pay,” Bucky shakes his head, his hand holding El’s again.

“It’s fine, I wanted to get Eileen something,” you give her a grin.

Bucky sighs.

“Is he always grumpy?” You ask El, teasing him.

“Yes,” she nods.

“El,” his lips twitch and eyebrows scrunch together. “Please.”

The barista then placed down the drinks with two paper bags.

“Thank you!” El chimed in a sing-song voice, eagerly reaching for the drinks.

You get there first, picking up the ones in her reach.

“Thanks,” Bucky sounds immensely grateful. “Eileen, please be careful, they’re hot.”

She gives him a sassy look.

“Why don’t you take the food?” You compromise.

Eileen nods, reaching to take the paper bags.

Bucky reaches to take his coffee. “Let’s find a seat.”

He leads you outside, it remains quiet, peaceful. Bucky strolls to the table closest to the playground, whilst your eyes remain on his back, his wide shoulders.

He pulls out a chair, then another, places his cup down and picks up his daughter to help her up into the chair.

“Take a seat, doll,” he gestures, letting you sit first before taking the last seat.

You carefully reach over placing the hot chocolate in front of Eileen and taking the Croissant.

Eileen seems too distracted by her own food to pay any mind to anything else.

Bucky chuckles fondly before taking a long sip of his drink.

“Want any?” You ask him as you pull part of the croissant apart to eat.

“Hmm,” he considers for a moment. “Sure.”

You smile, ripping off the other end. He leans over parting his lips slightly, you carefully put the piece in his mouth. His mouth closed and he chewed carefully.

You have to sift your eyes away, a warmth filling you at how he’d trusted you.

“Daddy never eats here,” Eileen cuts through your reverie, her blue eyes on her father as she concentrated. “Says it's bad for his muscles.”

You raise an eyebrow and smirk at Bucky.

He leans back, sipping his coffee and doesn’t say a word.

“You enjoy the gym?” You ask.

“Not as much as I’d like,” he places his cup down again. “I’m ex-Army.”

“What do you do now?” You ask, taking a sip of your own drink.

“Boring office job,” he admits. “But I can work from home, and take care of this one.”

He pats his daughter on the head.

“What about—“ you pause, hesitating.

“Eileen’s mother?” He finishes.

Eileen looks at her father, as though sensing the tension of the moment, then at you.

“Mummy works away,” she speaks as if she has said it a thousand times, her eyes suddenly appearing tired.

“Busy lady,” you reply.

“Mmm,” you hear the disapproval in Bucky’s tone. “Eileen, do you want to go try the swings whilst we chat?”

“Huh?” She perks up, then drops from her seat. “Yay!!”

She runs off eagerly into the playground.

“Stay in my sight!” He calls after her.

You watch Bucky once more, his face smooth yet his eyes soften, betraying the love he has for his daughter.

“El’s mother,” he begins, eyes still on his little girl. “She doesn’t come to see Eileen much. El barely remembers her.”

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, unsure what to say.

He shrugs. “We have each other. It’s enough.”

You gently place a hand on his arm. “You’re a single parent, you shouldn’t have to face it alone.”

“Despite what El told you, I do have friends,” his eyes return to you. “They are few, but I couldn’t have gotten this far without them.”

You nod, relieved. Bucky’s eyes then flicker over you, taking you in.

“You look lovely,” he comments.

“Thank you,” you lean back, hoping the distance will hide the blush on your cheeks.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t have a real first date,” you allow your eyes to drift back to him, his eyes on his daughter - now climbing steps on a slide. “You deserve to be taken out for dinner.”

“You don’t need to explain,” your voice is soft. “Your little girl has to come first.”

His head turns slightly, giving you a faint smile. “Thank you.”

“Besides, I wanted to see El again,” you continue. “She’s adorable.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, she is.”

There is a moment of silence. You keep your eyes on Bucky, taking in how his eyes never strayed from his daughter, occasionally drinking his coffee whilst his other hand lay on his lap.

“What do you do for work?” Bucky’s voice is quiet.

You twitch a second. “It’s pretty boring. I'm an archivist. Spend all day typing up what is written in old dusty books, or help people find old dusty books.”

He chuckles. “Sounds like it makes you happy.”

Your voice gets caught in your mouth for a moment. “It does,” you admit.

Bucky shifts then, turning his seat towards you.

“Would you like another drink?” He asks, the creases in his expression giving away his nerves.

“No, thank you,” you shift to face him. “I would like to just talk.”

He smiles then. Not the faint twitches of his lips before, a real smile. It seemed to light up his whole face, brightening his eyes, crinkling at the edges and his forehead.

“Your eyes,” you lean forward, heart thrumming a little harder from his gaze. “They’re incredible.”

His face drops, lips parting slightly as he drinks in your words.

“Uh, thank you,” he stammers.

You smile at him, and reach over to place your hand on his.

He swallows, suddenly nervous. “Do you like Italian food?”

“Yeah,” you respond. “Why do you ask?”

“There’s a little Italian restaurant not far from my place,” he says. “We could go, if you’d like.”

“With Eileen?”

He shakes his head. “Eileen is staying with my friend on Tuesday night. It would be just the two of us.”

“I think I’d enjoy that,” your lips twitch.

“More than this?” He playfully responds.

“It’s nice,” you smirk. “And I adore Eileen. But I’d also like to get you alone.”

“Alone, huh?” He chuckles. “That might be difficult.”

You grin at his face, he seemed so happy, a far cry from the grumpy man from earlier.

“I can share,” you tease.

“Yeah?” He turned his hand over, fingers interweaving with yours.

“Yeah.”

Bucky squeezed your hand. “You know in a fight she’d win, every time.”

“I know,” you nod. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Daddy!” Eileen was running over. “Did you see? Did you see? I was so fast.”

You suppress a laugh.

“Oh, I’m sorry, babygirl. I missed it,” he responded. “Go again, I’m watching.”

The little girl’s eyes narrow, eyes flickering between the two of you before running back, climbing the steps and flinging herself down the slide at speed.

“Oh my—” you begin to get to your feet in fear for her.

“Relax,” Bucky mutters. “She’ll be alright.”

“Did you see, Daddy?” Eileen shouts.

“I saw,” he calls back. “You were faster than my bike.”

Eileen beamed, running back over the bark chips to the table.

“That was fun!” She declared.

Bucky grins, pleased to see his little girl so happy. “Need a rest?”

She nods, climbing onto the chair. “I need a drink.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow at his daughter.

“Please,” she adds.

“Good girl,” he shakes his head fondly, reaching down into a bag Eileen had been carrying, passing over a drink bottle from the side to her.

She happily slurped through the straw.

“You’re a good dad,” you nudge him gently.

“I try,” he murmurs.

“Daddy’s happy,” she notices and then looks at you. “You’re happy.”

She takes another sip. “You make Daddy happy.”

“Don’t sound so surprised, El,” he chuckles.

“You laugh when I’m silly. Or Uncle Sam is silly,” she says.

“Uncle Sam?”

“My best friend,” Bucky explains. “He’s a pain, but he takes care of El when I can’t.”

“It’s nice of him to take care of Eileen,”

“I love Uncle Sam!” El declares in agreement.

“Because Uncle Sam lets you stay up till 8pm, and brings you chocolate,” Bucky shakes his head in disapproval.

She shrugs, taking one more sip from her drink before taking off again.

“What time do you want to meet on Tuesday?” You ask.

“I’ll book the table for seven,” his eyes were on his daughter.

You nod. “Seven then.”

He nods, his eyes flickering back to you.

“I’ll be waiting.”

You shift from one foot to the other, tugging at the material of your dress praying it’s not too short. You chose a simple red dress that hung just above your knees, in the hopes of being alluring yet modest.

You hear someone call your name, your eyes flicker around, seeing no one until you turn and spot Bucky.

He’s dressed semi formally, jeans, black boots, a light blue shirt that matched his eyes and a leather jacket slung over his shoulder.

“Hello,” his voice is quiet yet warm, his left hand holds out a small bunch of flowers with a nervous smile. “These are for you.”

You cannot contain the smile that crosses your face. “Thank you.”

His face remains still, but his eyes betray his relief. “I wasn’t sure what you would like,” he confessed.

You shake your head, stepping closer. “They are beautiful.”

“Shall we—” he hesitated. “Shall we go in?”

You nod, holding the flowers in one of your hands and reaching out with the other to offer your hand.

Instinctively, the fingers of his right hand weave between yours. They are gentle yet slightly rough to touch, yet somehow the feel of them sends a slight tingle up your arm.

Bucky guides you forward to the door, holding his jacket with his thumb and the rest of his fingers grasping the handle, holding it open for you.

“Thank you,” you give him a smile.

His lips twitch slightly upward, and follow you into the restaurant.

It’s small, yet quiet, simplistic in its decor.

You blink as you take it in, eyes flickering as he tugs your hand carefully to speak to the server.

“Table for two, under the name Barnes,” his voice is low.

The server nods. “Ah yes, I have it. Good to see you Mr Barnes.”

They pick up two menus and lead you to a small table to the side, a little out of earshot of the nearest table.

“Here,” Bucky pulls out a chair for you as the server places down the menus.

“Thanks,” you sit, place the flowers carefully under your chair and shrug off your jacket.

Bucky gives you a nod of satisfaction before taking his seat, slinging his jacket casually over the back.

“Any allergies we need to be aware of?” The server asks.

You shake your head.

Bucky doesn’t speak, his eyes remain on you.

The server nods and departs.

“You’re quiet,” you notice.

“I normally am,” he leans back, his gaze still intense.

Now it felt like a first date, the momentarily silence, the awkward feeling sinking into your stomach. Was this a mistake? Did he really like you?

“I come here with Sam,” he breaks the silence.

“Like— on a date?” Your tone is casual yet teasing. His nose crinkles together for a moment before he lets out a soft chuckle that shoots through you, the sound of it makes you want to join in.

“No,” a slight smile remains on his face. “We’d end up killing each other at the mere suggestion of sharing anything.”

You smile easily. “I share.”

“I remember,” he exhales. “Not sure I can say the same.”

Your lips part slightly at the implication.

“You look nice,” he adds, before allowing his eyes to move slowly over you.

There was something there, in the tenor of his voice, the way he was so obvious, yet taking it slow. It drew you in dangerously fast.

You feel blood rush to your face.

“So do you,” you admit quietly, eyes on the stubble of his jawline. Even with his long hair slicked back and the stubble, he looks smart, and the shade of his shirt brings out his features. “You’re— you’re pretty.”

His eyes widened a moment before a real smile graced his face. “Not sure I’ve been called pretty before.”

You pursue your lips. “Well, I think you are.”

He leans over the table as if to speak for no one to hear. Instead a voice interrupts you, the server.

“Can I get you any drinks?”

You see a flash of frustration on Bucky's face, and observe him inhale as if to calm himself.

“I’ll have a glass of white wine please,” you say, giving the server a polite glance.

“I’ll have a beer,” Bucky’s voice was low, tight with emotion that was barely contained.

“I’ll be right over with them,” they walk away again.

Once out of earshot you hear Bucky make a noise of dissatisfaction, one that makes you cover your mouth to hide laughter.

“Eileen is right, you are grumpy,” you allow yourself a small giggle once the server is out of earshot.

“Aren’t you?” His eyes never strayed away from yours. “They had to interrupt when things were just getting interesting.”

“There is no rush,” you say softly.

“I only get tonight with you sweetheart,” he shakes his head. “I don’t know when we will get time like this again.”

“I don’t mind Eileen coming,” you remind him.

“I’d rather not have the questions,” he admits. “El was so young when her mother and I separated. I never expected to meet someone else. I never prepared her for it.”

Your head tilts, sensing guilt.

“Bucky,” you lean forward. “We don’t have to rush, or do anything you don’t want to. You don’t have to feel any guilt.”

His eyebrows come together. “It’s not—” he pauses. “It’s been me and El for so long. She has always been my priority.”

You nod. “As it should be.”

The server then approached again, placing drinks on the table, then asked for the order. The pair of you are quick to order, wishing to return to the conversation.

As soon as they left, Bucky reached to take his glass, having a sip.

“I can’t give you what I’d want to give you,” his voice is quiet, almost tired. “I can’t put you first. If my babygirl needs care when we have a date, I have to pick her.”

He sounded as if he were convincing himself.

“Well, we aren’t there yet,” you speak lightly. “Why don’t we see how today goes before worrying about the future?”

He closes his eyes momentarily, taking a deep breath.

“You’re right,” he nods, and his right hand reaches over. “We have to make the most of this.”

You copy him, stretching to take it — his large hand eclipsing yours.

“I’ve never seen you around town before,” his voice was quiet. “Not before the other week, have you just moved here?”

“Mm,” you hum the affirmative. “About six months ago, I was offered a higher paid position at the museum. Thought it might be more of a challenge.”

“And is it?”

You sip your wine at the thought of your job. “It feels like I’m doing three people’s jobs,” you admit. “There is more to record, more things to go wrong, more people to cover for.”

You finish your drink and sigh.

“I love it, but I’m not sure the pay is worth the workload,” your voice is quiet.

“Mm,” he hums. “You’re overworked.”

You shrug. “For now,” you give him a half smile. “It’s been stressful the past few months. The move, new job… but meeting you gave me a little bit of normalcy.”

You pause before admitting the next part.

“I was looking at my phone to see if you’d text me, rather than panicking over bills,” you keep your eyes to the table. “It was nice.”

He chuckles softly.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to text you,” he breathed. “I— I was afraid. It’s been so long since I did this.”

“You’re good at it,” you reassure him. “You make me feel seen. You’re listening to me, paying attention to me even when I’m not asking you anything.”

“You’re more interesting,” he says, his fingers now making patterns on the back of your hand.

You shake your head slowly. “You’re an ex-army vet, with a metal arm and an adorable little girl. You are far more interesting.”

It was then your food was brought over and placed before you continue.

“I might have many stories to tell, but many of them aren’t pleasant, sweetheart,” his tone is dark and warning. “I haven’t lived a pleasant life.”

You let go of his hand, picking up a doughball from his plate and holding it between your fingers in front of him to eat.

Bucky eyes you for a moment before biting into it. Something about feeding the man felt strangely intimate.

“If you give me a chance,” your voice came out quiet yet determined. “I’d like to help you create some nice stories. Happy stories. Some about Eileen that you can embarrass her with when she’s older. Some about you and Sam… and maybe some about you and me.”

His brow furrows, contemplating.

“I'd enjoy that,” he admits.

You squeeze his hand a moment before starting to eat. The two of you eat, not quite in silence but in a comfortable quiet where you’d occasionally speak to comment on the food.

You peek up to look at Bucky, the blue of his eyes seem endless as he ponders.

“What is it?” You ask.

“What do you do outside work?” His eyes flicker up to you.

“Currently, not much, I’m still decorating,” you admit. “I like going on walks.”

“Hmmm,” he leans back.

“What about you?”

“Most of my time is taken up by Eileen,” he admits, his eyes still distant. “Or I tinker with my bike.”

“You ride motorbikes?” You tilt your head in interest.

Bucky nods. “Even when I was a kid. My friends and I used to piece together scrap to ride around.”

He pauses a moment, measuring your interest before continuing. “Working on bikes led me to the Army. I thought I could get a degree through them. Didn’t turn out as I planned.”

He looks down to his hands. “I ended up a Sniper. Turns out my hands were good for things other than fixing bikes.”

You could hear the stiffness in his voice, but he continued as if he could no longer contain himself.

“I got promoted to Sergeant,” he then twitched, his metal arm flexing slightly. “Then I lost my arm, and was allowed to resign my commission.”

“I met El’s mother a few months later,” his eyes then locked on yours. “I was still recovering, and she didn't look at me with pity. Things went fast, El came along and…”

His eyes appeared to look behind you, distant as though reliving a memory.

“When I proposed she said no,” his jaw came together, eyes watering slightly. “She screamed about how she’d put up with me for the past two years, and how Eileen and I were holding her back, keeping her life on hold, stopping her career.”

His eyes flicker back to yours.

“El thinks her mother walked away,” his voice was quiet. “But in truth, the next morning I packed up and took El with me. She was seven months old. Her mother never even contested when I requested custody of her.”

“You never got in trouble for taking El?” You wonder.

“No,” he shakes his head. “As I said, my custody was never contested. In truth, I believe she wanted me to walk out and take El with me.”

You lean over, taking both his hands in yours.

“You did the right thing,” you speak softly.

“So I’m told,” his eyes are sad, guilt etched into the lines of his face.

“What would you like for dessert?” You ask, keeping your eyes fixed on him, trying to distract him from his train of thought.

“Hmm?” He blinks. “I don’t know…”

“I was thinking of a tiramisu,” you say. “But the sorbet also looks good.”

“I usually skip and have a coffee,” he admits.

“We could share,” you suggest. “If you’d like.”

His eyes refocus.

“I can’t remember last time I had a tiramisu,” a semblance of enthusiasm began to seep into his voice.

You smile, heart fluttering slightly at your success.

You remove the silk gown slowly before hanging it up, and slipping into your bed.

You allow yourself a soft sigh, eyes closing your eyes as your fingers interlock, remembering the feel of his hands on yours.

Just as your hands begin to trail up your arms, there is a faint buzz. You ignore it, shifting under the covers in an attempt to keep warm.

You hear another buzz, and groan slightly as your eyes flicker open.

Your hand aimlessly reaches for your phone on your bedside table. With a tug, the cable disconnects and you pull the phone in front of your face to see Bucky’s name on the screen.

Your thumb lingers for a moment before pressing the green button and raising the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You keep your voice quiet, to avoid disturbing others.

“Hey,” you hear the soft rumble. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No,” you admit. “Just got to bed.”

“Mm, sounds nice,” you hear him rummaging around. “El insisted on a bedtime story, and that I stay with her until she fell asleep.”

He inhales slowly, and you hear his heavy footsteps. “Haven’t got a shower yet.”

“Go and get one,” you encourage him sleepily.

He chuckles on the other end. “Are you falling asleep, sweetheart?”

“Your voice is nice,” you admit in a haze.

His laugh is brighter. “Good. I’m sorry I called, I— I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Bucky,” you blink in an attempt to keep awake.

“It’s been a long time since I met someone who seemed intent on my happiness,” he goes quiet for a moment. “My life is dedicated to Eileen, there is no room for myself.”

You shift to sit up.

“You deserve to be happy,” you say softly. “Eileen wants you to be happy too.”

“Mm,” he murmurs. “I’d like you to come with us.”

“Bucky?”

“Eileen and I were planning to go to a Science Museum in a few weeks,” he says. “I would like you to come with us.”

“I thought you didn’t want to confuse El?”

“Well,” he exhales. “Fuck it. She likes you. I like you. I want you there and I know El would too. It’ll be hard, and we may have to struggle. But, how I feel — it is worth it, you are worth it.”

You blink away at your tired eyes.

“Bucky, I don’t know what to say,” you whisper.

“You don’t have to, sweetheart,” his voice is smooth, like butter, soothing. “Just be there. That's all I ask.”

“Okay,” you whisper. “I’ll be there.”

It took three weeks before a date was set.

So here you stood, in the shadow of the museum, a large backpack on your back and eyes flickering across the car park.

You hear a screech of excitement before you feel something collide with your legs.

“You’re here!” You peek down and smile at the girl clinging to your legs

“Hey El,” you greet her, and attempt to crouch down. She backs off for a moment before seeing your open arms, and jumping into them, almost launching you backwards.

You hear a chuckle from above and you give her a squeeze. Your eyes flicker up to Bucky, his shadow casting over the pair of you, protecting you.

“Hey,” he says softly. He is wearing a plain shirt and jeans, a backpack over his shoulders.

Your eyes are unable to resist flickering over the broadness of his shoulders to the way the shirt clung to his arms, down to the veins along his forearms. Seeing him in person like this suddenly made all those video calls and texts worthwhile.

Eileen backs away, stepping back towards her father and giving you a grin.

Without even thought you straighten up, still overshadowed by the man slightly.

“Hey,” you greet him. “What’s with the bag?”

“It’s for a picnic,” he shrugs. “Didn’t want to pay for the cafe.”

You tilt your head and look at Eileen. She looked unfazed, as if it were normal.

“I made ham and cheese!” El declared proudly. “And boring salad for Daddy.”

Bucky visibly rolled his eyes. “It's chicken, and my salads are to die for.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Is there enough to share?”

“I made two,” El bounced in excitement.

He pats her on the head gently.

“She insisted we make enough for you,” he shrugs casually. “El, hand please.”

The little girl reaches up automatically, taking his hand whilst Bucky holds out his metal hand to you.

“Shall we?” He suggests.

The inside of the museum is wide and open, a glass roof overhead of the central rocket filling the auditorium.

“Oooo,” El begins to rush forward, dragging her father with her. “A rocket!”

Bucky smirks in amusement at his daughter and gives you a wink.

“It’s a replica of the Rocket from Apollo 13,” Bucky keeps his eyes fixed forward.

Eileen bounds forward to the glass fence. “Three, two, one… Blast off!”

You smile and look over to Bucky who you also see smiling.

“She likes space?”

“I showed her the Artemis launch, and she’s been obsessed ever since,” he squeezes your hand. “She gets it from her father.”

“You like space?”

“Anything Physics,” he nods. “Engineering especially.”

“Nerd,” you tease him.

“Remind me what your job is again?” He sasses back, eyes returning to his daughter. You gently nudge him playfully with your arm, fingers still interlocked with his.

A slight tremor runs through him as he chuckles.

“You’re cute,” he keeps his eyes on Eileen, who is now standing entranced by a small screen showing the launch of a rocket. “People usually aren’t brave enough to tease me.”

“Because you are ex-Army, and built like a house?” You ask, your eyes remain on him, taking in how his hair was down — kept behind his ears.

“Mm,” he agrees. “I have what Sam calls a resting bitch face.”

You snicker, and feel Bucky’s eyes flicker to you.

“You aren’t denying it?”

“You do have this tendency to look a little…” you pause. “It doesn’t bother me.”

“No?” His lips twitch for a moment.

“No,” you repeat. “You’re gorgeous even with the resting bitch face.”

“Mm,” he lifts your joined hands, brushing his lips across your knuckles. “Thanks.”

The next few hours were filled with the excited squeals of Eileen at the different exhibits. Space suits, moon rocks, and a long documentary on the International Space Station. The three of you ended up in the large auditorium, sat on a bench with the picnic spread out in front of you.

Eileen sat talking animatedly about space, about all the planets she had looked up in books, what astronauts did in space and how much she wanted to see the stars.

Through it all Bucky never once interrupted her, to try to deter her from her dream. He nodded and spoke to her casually, almost like an adult.

“You okay there, honey?” Bucky’s voice broke you out of your thoughts.

“You’re such a good Dad,” you say without thinking about it.

He gives you a gentle smile, reaching over to squeeze your hand. “Thank you.”

You look over to Eileen who seems content eating her sandwich, whilst carefully colouring in a page she’d been given. Her eyebrows were scrunched together slightly, and the grip on her small pencil was tight.

“Is it like this all the time?” You wonder. “With you and Eileen?”

“What do you mean?”

“Peaceful, just out having fun,” you say.

“No, this is a treat,” he admits. “Normally we spend our weekends at home, we might go to the park or take a walk.”

“Just father-daughter time,”

“I guess,” he shrugs.

“Daddy colours with me,” Eileen interrupts, taking a sip of her juice. “In our NASA colouring book.”

You smirk and from the corner of your eye spot Bucky, placing his metal hand over his face.

“Daddy bakes with me. We made cookies!” She declares proudly.

Bucky chuckles, allowing hand to fall back to the table. “The icing was everywhere.”

“It was yummy!” She waves her arms in excitement. “Can you make cookies?”

You give her a gentle smile. “Yeah.”

Eileen gasps in excitement. “Come to my house! Let’s bake cookies.”

You laugh quietly.

“Maybe another time,” Bucky reaches over to calm her. “We have more of the museum to see.”

Another hour passed, walking through the long exhibit on the Solar System. The corridors were dark, covered with small lights to represent stars, every so often opening up into a room for each planet, projections of the planet flowing onto the walls, with paintings of the surface of the planet.

Upon reaching Saturn, you hear the sound of rocks for Saturn’s Rings.

“This is incredible,” you murmur.

Ahead, Eileen was bounding forward, keeping a close but far enough she could watch first.

“It is,” he agrees, squeezing your hand. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,”

“Would you like to visit an observatory?” He sounded nervous.

“With El?”

He shook his head. “She’d get bored of the talk. I— I have always wished to go.”

“Bucky,” you smile at him, flattered that he was willing to openly be himself with you. “Of course, I will.”

“You will?”

“Sure, sounds kind of romantic,” you shrug shyly. “Sat looking up at the stars.”

“Maybe,” he sounds unsure.

You squeeze his hand as you speak. “Bucky, you don’t need to give excuses. If you want to go to an observatory, we can go. All I want is to be with you.”

He stiffened a moment before keeping pace with you again, his eyes moving from your face to his daughter.

“You really want that?”

“Yeah,” your voice is quiet against the vast expanse of projected space. “I like spending time with you both.”

You feel a kiss against your hair. “Thank you.”

Your eyes flicker to glance at the lights crossing his features, then forward again. Your mind slowly began to list other date ideas, not just an observatory. Walks under the night sky, visits to climbing walls for El, maybe a motorcycle show or two.

A small smile remained on your face as you leaned into Bucky, feeling a sense of contentment amongst the stars.

One, two, three.

You count the knocks as you tap against the door.

Immediately you hear the sound of rushed footsteps, before the door flings open.

And there he is.

It takes a moment to process the sight in front of you. Bucky stood inside in a white tank top, with simple grey sweatpants and slips on his feet.

“Hey,” his voice is soft. “I’m glad you’re here.”

You feel heat creep up your cheeks, recalling the dazed rush you’d been in. Receiving his text asking you to come round, changing frantically from your loose shirt and leggings into a summer dress, checking yourself in the mirror, once, twice and then a third time before leaving.

“Did you need something?”

He gives you a simple nod and steps aside. “Come in.”

You step inside, taking care to remove your shoes as you hear the click of the door shutting.

“Here,” Bucky passes you, heading straight to the sofa.  You glance around the room, it isn’t as messy as you anticipated. There were no signs of El or her toys. Just a glass of water on the coffee table, and a beer bottle on the side table.

He slumps onto the leather, one arm up perched on the back as he nods down next to him.

You pursue your lips as you sit down, curious.

“Breathe,” his voice is soft. “I wanted to spend time with you.”

You take a shaky breath. “I thought you might’ve—“

You blink to try and hide the tears in your eyes. “I thought you were breaking up with me.”

His lips parted for a moment before he allowed his head to fall back slightly, chuckling.

 “It’s not funny,” you protest weakly.

He stills a moment, tongue moving visibly inside his mouth, leaving you slightly entranced. The things he could do with that tongue…

“I’m sorry I worried you,” his tone was gentle, the fingers of his metal hand tracing your collarbone over your shirt. “Eileen is having a sleepover with a friend.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Really?”

He gave a soft smile as he nodded. “She’s been begging me for months. I thought it might be time.”

“And you invited me?” You twitch, beginning to understand.

“I’ve missed you,” he admits. “The phone calls don’t feel like enough.”

A surge of warmth filled your heart softly running through your veins.

“I missed you,” you reach over to lay your hand on his thigh. “I’m sorry I couldn’t see you.”

His fingers begin to play with the hair at the nape of your neck. “You’ve been busy, I understand.”

You lean into his hand, the cool metal cupping your cheek.

“So have you,” your voice cracks.

“Hm,” his face relaxes into its usual expression, slightly grumpy with the lines on his face plain. “Too busy.”

Almost of its own accord your hand most up, brushing against the cotton stretched across his chest before allowing the tops of your fingers to linger on the stubble on his jaw.

“I was going to cook you dinner,” he confesses. “Got too eager and invited you before I could decide what to cook.”

You begin to smile, thumb brushing his chin. “That’s okay, I’m just glad to be here.”

Bucky shakes his head. “You’ve dressed up, and I didn’t even cook you dinner.”

The leather of the sofa squeaked as you shuffled closer to him, legs brushing.

“We can order take out?” You suggest. “Order pizza, lounge around with bad TV on.”

He chuckled. “Now that is a good idea.”

He reached into his pocket for his phone, flicking his fingers across it.

The next few minutes were filled with the quiet chatter of debating which pizza to order. Unconsciously, you find yourself pulled closer to him, practically leaning on him as you look at the screen.

“Hm,” he grunted. “It’s going to be a while, sweetheart.”

You allow your head to fall into his shoulder, allowing your eyes to close. His metal arm tightens slightly around your waist.

“What a shame,” you murmur sarcastically.

“Did you have plans?” he teases back.

You tilt your head up as your eyes open. “I wasn’t sure how late you’d want me to stay.”

“Oh,” he breathed and shook his head. “Doll, I want you to stay all night.”

“All night?”

“You think I’d let my baby girl out of my sight for the night if I didn’t?” He points out.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. “You wanted to—“

“I hoped,” his flesh hand was in your hair now, holding you in pace whilst his left kept you against him. “I can’t keep up this façade, pretending I don’t want more with you. Like you don’t brighten both our lives with your presence.”

“Bucky,” your breaths are shallow, fast, eyes fixed on his.

His face contorted, several emotions passing across his face whilst his eyes softened.

“Tell me if I’m going too fast,” he pleads. “I couldn’t bear to go through it again.”

Your eyes water slightly, heart tightening in empathy. The past month he’d held back, only holding your hand, or pressing a kiss to your forehead. You’d feared the lack of intimacy indicated no interest, but now you knew otherwise.

He had avoided moving too fast out of fear of repeating the past.

“It’s not too fast,” you promise. “I did wonder why you held yourself back.”

“I’m sorry,” he frowns. “I— I didn’t want to lead you on. I like you, in fact, I adore you. You’ve worked past the steel I’ve forged around my heart to make your home there, and you’ll never leave.”

You swallow audibly.

“When I met you,” your voice is quiet. “All I wanted to do was try and put a smile on that face. You looked so shaken from El wandering off, and concerned about disturbing me. My heart went out to you. The more time we spent together, the more you showed me every facet of who you are. The more I found myself wanting to be around you. Ironically, you make me happy when all I wanted was to do that for you.”

“You make me happy,” he gives you a nod before licking his bottom lip. “Let me show you.”

His breath fans across your face, and you faintly smell beer on it. A slight movement and his lips are on yours, keeping you secure against him as you reciprocate feeling the softness of his lips but not pushing any further.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is thick as his forehead leans against yours.

“Have you been drinking?” You say quietly, your heart sinking at the thought of him being drunk.

“Oh,” he hand drops from your face, reaching behind him to pick something up and show you the brown bottle — mostly full. “I took a sip when I heard you knock, I needed some courage.”

You glance at the bottle, feeling your muscles loosen up and give a relieved laugh.

“Sorry,” you apologise.

“Don’t apologise,” he shakes his head. “Want one?”

“No, thanks,” you reach up to allow your fingers to tangle in the hair, flowing from above his ear to the base of his neck.

“Fair enough,” he takes a long sip before placing it back on the side table behind him. You quietly laugh again. “What’s so funny?”

“You,” you grin. “Needing a beer like you’ve never spoken to a woman. It’s cute.”

“I don’t need a beer to speak to a woman,” he pretends to be offended. “I need a beer to speak with you.”

You snort. “Corny.”

Unable to hold the serious expression, he laughs lightly.

“I am,” he agrees, then leans forward to press a quick peck to your mouth.

“Hey!” You complain with a laugh of your own. “Bucky!”

His left arm tightens around your waist a moment, and he continues to tease you. “Sweetheart.”

“You’re so—” you wave your arm in mock frustration.

“Devastating handsome?” He winks.

Your voice gets caught in your throat, making a choking noise. His eyes widen slightly his horror, hand moving up to rub your back.

“You okay?” His tone dips in concern.

“You made me choke on my own spit!” You accuse him.

A relieved look passes his face.

“Thank fuck,” he breathes, his hand still gently moving up and down your spine.

The sight of him suddenly felt too much. The fear in his eyes, the pink of his lips pressed together, the way his jawline twitched slightly as he strained.

“You are handsome,” you admit, leaning closer and pressing a soft kiss to the edge of his mouth.

“Yeah?” His lips twitch up slightly.

“Yeah,” you breathe. “And kind, and funny.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “And you’re the most generous woman I have ever met. Beautiful, gentle and caring. You ask nothing of me, you accept my poor excuses for not being with you—”

“Taking care of your daughter isn’t a poor excuse,” you interrupt.

“Let me finish,” he presses a finger to your lips. “You don’t mind Eileen being on our dates. You ask after her, treat her as your own.”

His blue eyes soften. “She loves you, you know?”

Your lip trembles slightly. “I love her.”

Bucky’s lips pull up into a proper smile, a rare sight. “As do I.”

The doorbell then rang.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Coming!”

In a flurry of shuffling and cursing, Bucky got off the sofa and headed to the door. The sight of such him stumble around, almost tripping brought a giggle to your lips.

You hear him grumble at you down the corridor before enthusiastically greeting the delivery driver, exchanging pleasantries before re-emerging into the room, carrying several boxes under his arm.

“You remain wordless, amused as he lays out the boxes onto the coffee table.

“Ah,” he slumps back next to you, remote in hand to turn on the TV. The chatter and music seemed faint compared to the sound of Bucky shifting to grab his beer again and reach for a slice with the other.

“Happy now?” You tease.

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Been a long time since I had an evening like this.”

“Should I leave you alone with—?” You nod to the food.

“No,” he answers quickly, placing his beer down, then swapping the pizza from one hand to the other before holding out his free arm. “Get over here.”

You shuffle over, half your body covering his, as he finishes off his slice.

“Here,” his left arm holds you as his right reaches over for another slice. “Open.”

You blink a second before opening your mouth to allow him to feed you. You chew slowly, taking in his relaxed expression.

“This is nice,” you admit. “Domestic, comfortable. Like… home.”

He freezes for a moment. “Like home?”

You nod softly. “Better, because you’re here.”

“Yeah?” He asks rhetorically. “We could make this more permanent, honey.”

“What do you mean?”

“You could stay over,” he suggests. “Spend the weekends with El and me.”

“I thought you didn’t want to cause Eileen any confusion?” You say quietly. 

He snorts. “I’d cause her more by keeping you away.”

“And what if we sleep together?”

“We will cross that bridge when we get to it,” he snags another piece, taking a big bite to avoid speaking further.

“Bucky,” you voice is almost a whine. 

“Hush and eat your food,” his voice is gentle, no semblance of harshness in his tone.

“Yes sir,” you mutter, reaching over to join him in having pizza.

Slowly, as the take out boxes emptied, you ended up laid down, Bucky underneath, his back against the armrest, whilst your head was on his chest as your fingers brushed against his shirt.

Every so often, you’d move up and kiss him, softly. Taking your time to make the most of being alone with him. Then he’d occasionally move, tilting his head down to push his lips against the crown of your head, then tilting your head back to kiss you lazily, no force behind it, only a tempered heat that sparked the desire for more.

“Hey,” you hear him murmur. “You awake, sweetheart?”

“Barely,” your voice is a whisper, his body rumbles as he chuckles.

“Need me to carry you to bed?” His tone is teasing again.

“I— I don’t have any clothes,” you don’t move despite the comment.

“You can have some of mine,” he promises. “Come on, doll. Let’s get you in bed.”

As he moved, keeping you on his lap before turning and picking you up with surprising ease, it occurred to you that this is what he probably did with Eileen every night. Let her tire herself out before scooping her up and gently putting her under the covers.

It was a basic act of love. Something Bucky was used to, rather than the awkwardness of trying to force something on a date.

You barely notice where you are until he pops you onto what you assume is his bed. He goes to his drawers pulling out several pieces of clothing

“Here,” he gently tosses you a grey shirt. “I’m gonna change. Feel free to use the bathroom.”

He leaves through the open door, and you hear his footsteps as he heads down the corridor.

The room is dimly lit by the light filtering from the neighbouring bathroom, the bed sheets a simple navy blue, and upon the drawers were framed photos. Several were of Eileen, one was of Bucky, his arm around a man you didn’t recognise — Sam, you assumed. Then there was another, a new one, that you recognised. It was you, sat next to Bucky on the bench in the Space Museum. The photo was blurry, having been taken by Eileen herself, but even so you could see the happiness in Bucky’s eyes, the slight tilt in his lips.

You hadn’t realised you were standing until you reached to touch it, eyes watering slightly at his sentimentality.

“Hey,” his voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “You okay, doll?”

“You framed this?” Your voice is shaky.

“Of course,” he speaks casually. “It’s the only picture I have of you.”

“It’s only been two months,” you peek over at him from the corner of your eyes.

“It doesn’t matter,” you feel him step behind you, arms wrapping around your waist. “Whether you know it or not, you’ve brightened my life. You’re important to me.”

“Bucky,” tears begin to fall down your cheeks.

“Don’t cry,” he murmurs into your ear. “I’m not worth your tears, baby.”

“Yes, you are,” you sniffle, placing your hands on his. “You’re worth it all.”

You feel his breath against your ear, lips brushing faintly against your hairline.

“Still sleepy?” He asks.

Your head twists to look behind you then up at him. “A little, but I want you more.”

His eyes widen slightly at your words. “You’re sure?”

You nod, turning in his arms, and wrap your own arms around his neck.

“Yes,” you agree. “Nice and slow. Like you said.”

“I can do that,” he pulls you forward, stepping back until he falls back onto the bed, bringing you with him.

“Buck!” You laugh as you land on his chest, the thin cotton of his pyjamas gave little protection when your hands brushed his hardness of his chest.

He chuckles. “Buck, eh?”

You feel heat rush to your cheeks. “It kind of slipped out.”

“It’s okay,” he pulls you up carefully until you are face to face. “It’s more than okay.”

“You don’t mind?”

He shakes his head with a gentle smile. “I only allow those closest to me to call me Buck.”

“Yeah?”

The smile turns into a smirk as he hums in approval, leaning up to kiss you.

The kiss is different again, slow like before but with clear intent. A hand reaches to cup your face, thumb tracing your cheekbone. His lips move with precision, taking care not to push too far.

“Slow,” he murmurs against your lips as if reminding himself. You lean down this time, pressing gentle kisses across his face, working down to his neck before giving it a nip with your teeth.

“Easy,” his fingers brush through your hair. “Gonna get me off before our clothes are off.”

You giggle quietly. “Sorry.”

“No apologies,” his hand moves from your head to tilt your chin up. “Don’t be sorry for any of this. This is perfect.”

You pull back, and catch the hurt in his eyes. Your chest tightens with guilt, and you manage a deep breath before reaching under your skirt — pulling the dress off in a single movement.

“Oh,” his hands fall to your hips, eyes locked on your bare chest only covered by a simple bra. “That’s not slow, sweetheart.”

“I want to feel you,” you admit as you reach down, hands roaming up his arms as you lower yourself back down onto him.

He doesn’t say a word, instead his right hand moves up your skin, leaving a soft tingle in its wake, before stopping just at the hem of your bra.

“May I?” His voice is low with desire, eyes on your chest.

You nod, feeling enraptured by the sensation of his hands on you. His hand slid under your bra cupping your breast, then brushing his thumb over your skin.

“They’re real soft,” he murmurs, concentrating on how his fingers seemed to disappear into them.

“Been a while?” You guess.

His eyes flicker to yours. “I never got to experience this — to just touch. To get to know someone so intimately.”

“Here,” you reach up and pull down the straps on your bra, then unhook from behind you and throw it on the floor. “I trust you.”

He pulls himself further up, keeping you seated on his lap whilst his hands hovered over you.

“Still okay?” He asks, and you nod.

The sensation of one hand cold and the other warm, sent your mind into overdrive with sensation. Your nipples perking up slightly in interest as his fingers squeezed.

You reach forward, humming quietly at the feel of him on you, and reach for the bottom of his top.

“May I?” You whisper.

“Please,” he removes his hands and allows you to pull it over his head. Your breath catches in your throat for a moment at the sight of him.

You had known he was well built, and big, but seeing him without a shirt felt altogether different. Large shoulders framing his chest. Curiosity breaks through, your hands drift onto his chest, brushing softly against his chest, downwards as you notice there is no six pack, only the feel of muscle with a healthy layer of fat. It felt soft, like somewhere you wished to lay your head on every night.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” He asks, eyes fixed on your every expression.

“It feels nice,” you admit.

“Don’t exactly look like I’d fit the cover on Men’s Health, do I?” His tone is joking, but you scowl at him regardless.

“Yet you probably could lift a small car with those muscles,” you say, fingers now pressing into the muscles of his arm, one hand exploring soft muscle the other tracing the plates of his arm.

“That’s what the metal arm is for,” he jokes and leans forward to press a kiss to your mouth again.

You laugh as you pull away from the peck. “Could you lift me?”

“Easily,” he admits casually.

“Very humble,” you tease him, as his fingers begin to trace your sides.

“You asked,” he smirks.

“I did,” you agree, brushing your nose against his. “I’m curious what else,” your hand roams over his metal arm. “This arm can do.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up. “Dirty.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks. He laughs then, all tension removed from the moment. 

”Bucky,” your voice is almost a whine.

“Breathe,” his voice turns soft. “It’s just us. You don’t have to hide anything.”

You give him a playful scowl, then shake your head.

“Are you asking me to talk dirty?” Your voice is slightly hesitant.

”Only if you want to,” his fingers made patterns on your bare sides. “Or I can…”

You feel his lips brush your cheek before speaking low in your ear. “You have no idea how hard it has been to keep our dates safe for El’s eyes. Trying to keep my eyes off you. When we first met—”

He pauses, shifting back to stare at you, suddenly serious. “I’m sorry about that. I checked you out and spoke without thinking. I was as embarrassed as you were, it’s why I wished to escape, and why it took me so long to text you.”

Your arms tighten around his neck. “You’re only human.”

He lets out an awkward chuckle, licking his bottom lip anxiously. “Thanks”

You lean forward to press a kiss to his mouth, moving slowly as you press yourself against him. One hand presses against the small of your back as the other slides up to cradle the back of your neck.

You gasp as he turns, causing you to land on your back head against the pillows looking up at him.

“Had enough talking?” His voice breaks slightly.

You nod, still slightly wide eyed.

“Good,” he buries his head into your neck, inhaling through his nose as his hands moved down to your underwear.

Your own hands mirrored his, reaching to pull him free. The moment dragged, suddenly the urgency of made it feel like no matter how hard either of you tried the clothes were just not coming off.

“That was more difficult than when it was my first fucking time,” he grumbles, kicking his leg to ensure he was completely bare.

You laugh quietly and shake your head. “Come here.”

He leans down again to kiss you. Even as your lips moved with his your could feel him against you, the warmth of his skin against your chest, your hands feeling the muscles of his back.

With a groan, his hips roll over yours to allow you to feel how hard he was. Your legs lift instinctively to allow him easier access.

There were no words passed between you. Bucky only lifted himself slightly to look into your eyes as you give a tiny nod to confirm you were consenting to all of it.

A hand abruptly landed on your thigh, curling inwards before moving between your bodies reaching to grasp himself and line himself up.

“It’s been a while,” he admits. “If I do anything it hurts, or anything you don’t like. Tell me, and I’ll stop.”

“Okay,” your voice is breathy, almost silent from the tension of the moment.

His blue eyes stay fixed on you, reading your expression before you feel the tip of him press against you.

He moved slowly, as if he feared that moving too fast would break you in half. Yet somehow it made everything better. You gasped as you stretched around him, friction building despite your arousal and the an ache that had previously gone unnoticed seemed to soothe as he bottomed out.

You exhale slowly as he pressed his forehead against yours, the room silent other than the sound of heavy breathing.

“You okay?” His voice broke slightly at the intensity.

“Yeah,” you respond, reaching so your arms wrap around him, hands grasping his shoulders. From the corner of your eyes you see the showdown of his own arms bracing himself above you.

Bucky keeps his eyes on yours. “Keep yours eyes on me, please.”

His hips move and withdraw slightly before pushing forward gently. A moan gets caught in your throat as you feel the stretch again.

The look in his eyes is intense, focused and his jaw ticks slightly as he concentrates.

“You’re making it real hard to hold it together honey,” he voice come from between clenched teeth.

“Slower?” You suggest and he shakes his head sharply.

“That’ll kill me,” his lips twitch in amusement at the thought. “I need to move.”

You brace your feet against the softness of the bedsheet, allowing your thighs to wrap around his hips lightly.

“Then move, Bucky,” you whisper your encouragement. “I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

He remains still, his eyes still focusing on you.

“Trust me?”

The words seem to stir something in him, his face softens, jaw loosening and he lets out a sharp exhale as though he had been holding his breath.

In a single movement he pulls out, then in an instant he pushes back in, watching as you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

His body begins to move in rhythm, faster than the first few thrusts but enough you find yourself keeping up, attempting to sync up with him.

The room felt oddly quiet only than the soft slapping of skin and your breathy sighs of pleasure.

“Feels good,” he murmurs, and leans down brush his nose against yours. He begins to move faster, just enough that you see him groan, his mouth passing yours a moment before leaving a trail of saliva from the edge of your lips to jawline.

“Bucky,” you moan as you feel him give a hard thrust and hold it there.

“More?” He suggests, his lips at your ear.

“Please,” your eyes sting slightly as your chest tightens slightly, desperate.

He pulls himself up to hover over you. One hand grasping your thigh, pulling it up, swinging your calf over his shoulder and pressing down.

“Oh f—” you cry out as you feel him push deeper, brushing against a spot that sends a flood of warmth through you.

“There,” he inhales, taking a moment whilst his left hand brushed your side, the cool of the metal leaving tingles in its wake before slipping down between your legs. “I’ve got you.”

The headboard banged against the wall with his next thrust, your voice gets caught in your throat, lips still parted as he hits with such precision you begin to fear being overheard at the noises you suppress.

“Let it out,” he commands, tone gentle. “I wanna hear it.”

Your voice cracks slightly as a long moan escapes you. “Bucky, please—”

“Close?” He asks and you nod frantically.

It was then he leaned down to kiss you, your bodies still rocking in an attempt to sync up, your legs begin to tremble around him. The metal of his fingers brushed the swollen nub between you, forcing your apart just a moment as your back arches into him with a soft cry, before he presses himself down on you. His weight holding you in place, mouth suppressing your sounds. His fingers continue, rubbing hard against you as he snaps forward hard.

Your body clamps around him, your cries muffled by his mouth. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, as you feel him continue, the friction against your walls making your eyes roll.

Bucky kisses your deeper then, almost as through to push you further into the mattress as he presses hard against your walls before his large frame shudders, and you feel a rush of liquid alongside your own.

His forehead lays softly on top of yours, and you watch his entire face soften. His eyes are shut, lips slightly parted as he breathes deeply before letting out a quiet laugh.

“Bucky?” You whisper, his eyes flicker open. The blue piercing through you.

“That was reckless,” he chuckles, shifting his weight to prop himself on both arms. “No condom.”

“Oh,” heat rushes to your cheeks as you realise the slight faux pas. You lips part to apologise.

“Don’t apologise,” he cuts you off. “I haven’t felt like this in nearly a decade. Just doing something because it’s fun, consequences be damned.”

You swallow, fingers reaching up to brush against his cheek. “I like that.”

“Yeah, enough to do it again?” His voice is quiet, nervous.

“Now?” You suppress a smile.

“Maybe in an hour,” he shrugs. “Was thinking of a bath? Then we can sleep, get El and maybe brunch?”

“That sounds…” your eyes gaze over for a moment, consumed by domestic thoughts. Sitting in the living room, colouring with Eileen. Having Bucky laid on your lap, running your fingers through his hair. Maybe a day would pass when you’d surprise Eileen with a sibling.

“Sounds nice,” you agree.

His shifts instantly, scooping you into his arms to carry you into the bathroom. His arms tighten around you instinctively and you hear him murmur above you.

“As long you’ll have me, I’ll be here.”

“Really?” Morgan asks, leaning back in his chair. 

“A transfer.” Hotch confirms. 

Prentiss looks up from her coffee, “A good transfer or a political transfer?”

“Good transfer.” 

Hotch’s immediate and positive answer got everyone’s attention. He was the last person to willingly alter the team dynamic by throwing someone new in the mix. Hotch wasn’t one for compliments either. If he said someone was good, they were good. 

“Who is it?” Reid asks. 

Hotch opens a file and sets it down on the table. The room skimmed the highlights. Top of your class at Quantico, fluent in three languages, multiple commendations and a highly decorated agent. You’ve spent recent years a part of the counterterrorism task force and hostage negotiation before that.

Morgan whistles, “Okay.”

“She’s twenty-eight?” JJ asks. 

“That’s annoying.” Emily sighs. 

Rossi smirks, “She’s making the rest of you look lazy.” 

The conference room opens and before anyone can continue, or hide the evidence of your career on the table, you walk in. Everyone glances up and Aaron forgets to breathe for a second. He simply stares. The woman in front of him looked different than the teenager he still had in his mind. 

You looked more confident and polished. It looks dangerous. But your smile is exactly the same. It is still warm, bright, and familiar. 

“Aaron!” 

The entire room stills, hardly anyone called him Aaron. Morgan looks between the two of you and his jaw actually drops when Hotch smiles. An honest to God smile that the team hadn’t seen from him in months. Maybe years. 

“Y/n.” 

You break into a grin of your own. 

“Aaron Hotchner!” 

Hotch stands tall still, somehow the smile got bigger. 

“I think the last time I saw you was your high school graduation.” Aaron admits quietly.

You roll your eyes and nod, you step forward and he gives you a careful hug. You turn back to face the team and two of them look like they could fall out of their chair.

“Wait,” Morgan holds up his hands, “you didn’t know he was gonna be here?”

“You know, they said it was his team but I didn’t really believe them.” You tease, 

Aaron rolls his eyes, but he’s still looking at you fondly. 

“Hold on,” Rossi points at Hotch, “you know how to smile?” 

He shoots him a look, immediately dropping the grin which causes you to laugh. 

“Oh, so that hasn’t changed?” You bite. 

He does a poor job of trying to keep his smile to a minimum. 

“Does he still do that thing where he stares at you until you feel guilty?” You ask. 

“Every day.” Prentiss answers quickly. 

Hotch sighs and the room erupts into laughter. 

“You haven’t changed much.” Aaron comments, a lie.

“That’s rude.” 

“You still talk too much.” 

“Definitely rude, I’m so contacting HR.” 

“Shut up.” 

The teasing came naturally, it was effortless. The team watches it with way too much joy for nine in the morning. They had never seen Hotch interact with anyone like this. Ever. 

Even Rossi looked surprised. 

“So,” Rossi breaks in, “one of you explain.” 

“I dated Sean in high school.” 

“Sean Hotchner?” JJ clarifies and you nod. 

“Little Hotch?” Garcia shrieks. 

“All throughout high school.” Aaron shakes his head, a teasing smile still creasing his face. 

“Aaron thought I was too smart for Sean.” You roll your eyes.

“Well, you did end up here.” 

“Aaron!’ You scold, the big brother side coming out on rare display, “He was the scary one-”

“I wasn’t scary-” He defends. 

“Oh, the stories I could tell-”

“Y/n.” He warns and your smile grows even wider. 

It had been years, but you practically lived at the Hotchner house. You and Sean dated for years on and off in high school, it was never great but he was your first real boyfriend. Aaron was ten years older than the two of you so he wasn’t always around. You remember him studying for law school and then eventually bringing home case files but somehow he still had the time to help you with your college applications. 

Back then he always seemed so impossibly grown up. Catching killers during the day, but still finding a way to come back home for a weekend every month to see his brother. But now you’re standing in the same room and you’re older than he was then. It feels familiar in a way you can’t place. 

“You did well, Y/n.” 

His words are simple but they mean a lot. You knew Aaron did not give out praise easily and you feel your smile soften. 

“So did you.” 

“So, are you going to introduce the rest of us?” Morgan asks, gesturing to the entire team at the table. 

Everyone laughed and with burning red ears Aaron introduced the rest of the team. Everyone explained their current case load and the ones they are monitoring, everyone is on standby for a case if a call comes in. 

Judging by the way the team kept staring at Aaron’s rare smile, you learned something very important. No one on the team knew the version of Aaron Hotchner you knew long ago. The one that laughed and teased. Somehow that made joining the BAU feel a little less intimidating. 

-

Eventually everyone broke out into the bullpen, settling in at their desks and you follow Aaron to his office to finish up the last of the transfer paperwork. 

You glance around his office while he gets everything in order. It’s exactly what you could’ve expected. Minimalist. Organized. Awards and accommodations lining his shelves as well as pictures of Jack. There’s still one picture of Jack and Haley, she’s wrapping him up in a tight hug. You step closer, your finger dancing over the edge of the frame. Aaron clears his throat behind you and you turn to face him. 

You glance back at the picture frame briefly before focusing back on him, “I’m so sorry to hear about Haley.” 

His expression remains calm, years have passed. Jack was older now and life had moved forward but it was clear that the pain would never disappear completely. 

“I appreciate that.” 

You open your mouth to speak and his expression shifts. 

“How’s your father?” He changes the subject, handing you paperwork and turning back toward his desk. You groan and sit down in one of the chairs facing him. 

“There he is.” 

“What?” 

“The classic Hotchner deflection.” 

His mouth twitches. Barely, but you catch it clearly. Changing the subject to avoid being vulnerable was something both him and Sean were masters at. 

“My dad is good.” You eventually offer, “Retired, but still finding a way to complain about everything.” 

“That’s reassuring.” He smiles. 

“He’s proud.” 

“He should be.” 

You smile, “Look at you giving out the compliments today.”

He rolls his eyes, focusing back on the paperwork in front of him. 

“It was one compliment.” 

“Two.”

“It was one-”

“Defintley two-”

“Red alert!” Garcia walks right into the office, teetering on her heels. She freezes looking between you and Hotch. 

“Oh, were you guys having a moment?” She grins, her eyes shooting higher than the frames of her lime green glasses. 

“No.” Aaron answers immediately. 

“Absolutely.” You answer at the same time, saying anything to get Aaron riled up. 

“Don’t get Garcia started, she’ll never drop it.” Aaron warning, pointing an accusatory finger at you. 

You hold up your hands in mock defence, “Noted.” 

Aaron can tell you don’t mean it one bit. 

She squints her eyes looking between the two of you, “I knew it.” 

“Garcia.” Hotch warns. 

“Right. Horrible murder.” 

The mood in the office shifted instantly. Aaron stands from his desk and reaches out to take the file from her hands. 

“Montana.” 

Aaron starts looking through the case file and images, everyone else in the bullpen looking in their direction catching the news. 

“Three victims in twelve days. Rural county, the closest neighboring town is forty miles away.” 

Aaron continues to scan the report, “Victimology?”

“Different ages and occupations without any obvious connection. They actually called us in because every four days someone goes missing, and that same day the previous missing person is found.” 

Aaron closes the file, “Wheels up in thirty. Tell the rest of the team.” 

Garcia nods rapidly and leaves the room as hurriedly as she had burst in. 

“You’ve got a go bag?” He glances at you. 

You give him an offended look, “Do you really need to ask?” 

Thirty minutes later the team settles onto the jet. Garcia is coming with too, looking deeply unhappy to be there. 

“I don’t belong in nature.” She huffs, crossing her arms and looking out the plane window. 

“You’ll survive.” Morgan nudges her shoulder. 

“Will I?”

The case photos appear on the screen, everyone has the file in front of them with the details. 

“Let’s start.” Aaron announces. It’s weird having him as your superior and seeing him manage a team, but you know it’s what he was best at. He was bossing around Sean as soon as he could walk, you witnessed it first hand for years. 

“Remote location suggests he’s comfortable with the area.” Rossi offers. 

“Local hunter?” Morgan raises his brows. 

“Maybe.” 

“Most serial offenders operate within a comfort zone. Rural offenders generally hunt closer to home.” Reid vocalizes. 

You study the map and something bothers your gut. Screaming at you to correct it. 

“What if we’re looking at this backwards?”

Several heads turn toward you, Aaron watches silently. 

“The bodies were recovered here,” You point out each spot on the map.

“So?” Morgan questions. 

“What if that’s not where he hunts?”

Reid frowns, “The distance would be inefficient.” 

“Unless efficiency isn’t the point,” The jet cabin goes quiet while you continue, “Everybody assumes remote offenders want privacy-”

“Which is statistically true.” Reid interrupts. 

“Usually.” 

You put a little more emphasis on the word when you say it and it makes him pause. 

“What if he’s moving them intentionally?”

“Why?”

“Control.” Rossi answers, immediately catching onto what you’re theorizing. 

“Exactly.” You smile, “These sites aren’t random.”

Aaron notices it, his eyes narrow. 

“Water.” 

Every body had been found near a water source. Streams, creeks, even a small river. 

Reid leans forward, “Interesting.” 

“Thank you.” You smirk. 

“I’m not agreeing with you.” Reid argues. 

“You will.” 

Aaron hides a smile and Reid continues on unphased now. Aaron can remember you trying to debate him while you were in mock trial and he was a practicing prosecutor. You somehow held your own back then and it would appear that hasn’t changed now.

“If water is important to our unsub it could represent cleansing.”

“Or disposal.” Emily adds. 

“Or symbolism.” JJ jumps in. 

“Or all three.” You shrug. The debate continued back and forth between everyone for the rest of the flight. You held your ground every step of the way, but easily meshed with the group's ideas. It was exactly the way a group of experienced profilers should operate. 

“She’s fitting in fast.” Rossi leans in toward Aaron to say it quietly. It goes unnoticed by everyone else, still exchanging ideas. 

“Mhm.” Aaron doesn’t look up at the older man. 

Aaron wasn’t surprised with your intelligence. You said it yourself, he knew you were too smart for Sean and he made that known back when the two of you were dating. He was still a little surprised with how well you were slipping into a rhythm with everyone. The challenge and the willingness to defend a theory without taking disagreement personally. 

Outside the jet windows the vast Montana wilderness stretches below. Somewhere out there was someone dangerous, the case would be difficult but you felt certain of one thing. You were exactly where you were supposed to be. 

-

Five days. 

Five days in rural Montana and the team was no closer to catching the unsub than when you had first arrived. Everyone was exhausted, small town cases were surprisingly difficult. The sheriff’s office had become a second home to everyone, coffee cups littered every open spot on the table. 

Morgan doesn’t hesitate in giving you a hard time, making you feel more welcomed than it should by annoying you. Prentiss demands embarrassing stories about Hotch and has invited you out for drinks whenever the team gets back. JJ seems genuinely relieved to have another woman in the field. Garcia adores you and wants details about everything early twenties Hotch. Reid was somehow fascinated by the fact that this was your third FBI specialty before thirty and enjoyed debating with you. Rossi found you entertaining, loving the new side of Aaron that you seem to bring out. 

Dozens of interviews and countless hours in the field had turned up nothing. The unsub was still out there, and as of two days ago the fourth victim was found and he had someone new. Eighteen year old Madison Cooper was taken from a gas station, her car still waiting at the pump. Victim photos stare back at you from the board ahead, your brain replaying the past few days over and over. 

The newest body was discovered mutilated by a shallow creek twenty miles from where she had disappeared. She was clean, no traces of DNA or anything else left behind. The pattern continued and no one could kick your water theory from the table. 

“I’ve searched every registered hunter, fisherman, trapper, and landowner in a fifty mile radius.” Garcia reminds, still typing away rapidly at her keyboard. 

Morgan sighs and runs a hand over his face. 

“And?”

“Nothing.”

You continue to pace in front of the boards, unable to sit still any longer. 

“Every fishing license and criminal record known in Montana state.” Garcia continues, “I’ve reached the stage where more people look suspicious than not.” 

You turn away from the boards to face the team again. 

Reid squints, “You’re smiling.” 

“You’re about to disagree with me.” 

“I am?”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fun.” You grin. 

He shakes his head. 

Emily leans in closer to JJ, “She fits in way too well.”

“Yeah, she’s already annoying.” Morgan jokes, turning in his chair back and forth. His eyes jump over to you with mischief. 

“Annoyed that I’m already right more often than you?” You smirk, “Get used to it.” 

Hotch chuckles at the far end of the table and everyone notices. You look back to study the map again, thinking about all of the disappearances and the amount of time he’s with them. 

You grab a marker, “The water.”

Morgan sighs, “You’ve been talking about the water for five days.” 

You circle all of the locations where bodies have been recovered. 

“Look.”

Everyone turns their attention onto you and the board. 

“We’ve been assuming these were disposal sites-”

“They are.” Reid interrupts. 

“Not just that.” You argue and the certainty in your voice makes the room go quiet, “I think these are the closest locations he can get to.”

Aaron frowns, “Explain.”

“What if he isn’t bringing them there because of convenience? It’s a necessity to him.”

Rossi picks up on what you’re saying before anyone else, “He needs the water?” 

“Exactly, the bodies were cleaned and for whatever reason he doesn’t have access to do that privately.” You nod.

The room froze. 

JJ blinks and crosses her arms, “Cleaned?”

“The forensic reports mention minimal trace evidence every time but we don’t have any idea what he used.” 

Reid’s eyes widen, “He washed them in the water.” 

The pieces start to click together for everyone. 

“The water isn’t of the fantasy,” Emily discusses, “It’s part of the disposal.” 

“Garcia, instead of looking for properties can you look for RV titles?” You ask. 

“Oh yes I can!” She begins tying more rapidly, talking to herself as she filters out her search, “Oh my god. Joseph Dixon has an RV for his primary address and has lived in the area for the past thirty years. His wife drowned at the beginning of the year,” Garcia frowns, “He lost the house a few months after and has been in the RV ever since.”

Ten minutes later FBI SUVs tear down a dirt road with lights flashing. Garcia had found all of the RV campsites in town and eliminated the previously occupied locations, narrowing it down to one stream. 

It was a remote site, surrounded by tall trees that creak and sway with the evening wind. You get out of the car and Aaron circles everyone together before approaching.

“Remember, Madison is likely still alive if he is still following his timeline.” Aaron looks between everyone with sharp focused eyes. 

Everyone acknowledges him and moves to surround the RV with weapons drawn. Morgan breaches the front door and half the team floods inside behind him. The smell hits your nose immediately, strong with bleach and moisture. 

Joseph is standing toward the back of the RV with Madison barely standing in his arms. He holds her up as a shield with a knife held to her throat. 

“FBI!” Aaron shouts, “Drop the knife.” 

The man looks wild and desperate which is never what you want to talk down. 

“You don’t understand.” Joseph shouts back, tears starting to stream down his cheeks. 

You could see the grief and obsession all over his face. The loss of his wife and then his house has created this delusion. 

“They have to be clean.” He whispers, the room going still, “They have to be clean.” 

You keep your voice calm, “Let her go.” 

He shakes his head, “She isn’t ready.” 

You step forward carefully, making sure not to block anyone’s line of fire. 

“You couldn’t save her.” Your voice is soft, and more tears flood his vision, “And you think you’re saving them now, but you’re not.” 

His expression breaks, just enough to lessen his hold. He closes his eyes briefly to wipe at the tears and Morgan moves instantly. The takedown happened in seconds and you have Madison before she can reach the ground. She was safe, and now the unsub was in custody. 

A nightmare was finally over. 

You help Madison over to the back of an ambulance and return to the team once EMTs start checking her out. Morgan puts Joseph in the back of the sheriff's car. 

“Not bad.” Rossi calls out as you approach. 

You smile tiredly, “High praise from the founder of the BAU.” 

“You called the water on day one.” Reid has a confused look on his face. 

“Of course I did.” You smirk, some energy returning to your eyes, “You guys are going to have to get used to it.” 

Emily groans, “Oh god.” 

Aaron just smiles, shaking his head and following you and everyone back to the SUVs. For the first time in nearly a week the entire team looked relieved. The case was closed and the victim was alive. 

He finds himself watching you without being able to help it. You were a new agent to the team, but you were still a familiar face. You walked into the BAU less than a week ago and somehow it felt like you had been there for years. You look back and catch his eyes, when your eyes meet you smile. He smiles back and this time, no one on the team seemed surprised by it. 

-

Four short months, and several cases later, you finally had become one of them. Not the new agent. Not the transfer. Not the girl who knew Hotch. You were just one of the team members of the BAU and it was impressive considering how difficult it was to truly earn your spot with them. 

Aaron was impressed with it as well, but he wasn’t surprised. It was part of your skill. You were smart enough to challenge Reid without being intimidated. Confident enough to stand your ground with Rossi. Capable enough in the field that Morgan trusted you at his back without hesitation. 

You make people laugh, and that was surprisingly valuable in a unit that spent most days facing humanity’s worst moments. You brought energy into rooms. Life. A little chaos. It was the kind that reminded everyone that there was still good in the world. Even Aaron. Especially Aaron. 

Which is why everyone was becoming increasingly suspicious. 

“Tell me I’m not crazy!” Morgan holds up his hands, looking around at everyone sat at their desks in the bullpen. 

JJ doesn’t even look up from her paperwork. 

“You’re going to need to be more specific.” 

Emily leans against her desk, glancing back to where you and Aaron are standing in the conference room still talking after the morning meeting. 

“The way Hotch looks at Y/n.”

JJ finally looks up and peeks back to where Emily is still looking. 

“Oh.”

“Right?” Morgan claps. 

“Definitely.” JJ nods. 

Aaron was smiling as he was standing in front of you. Again. Not a full smile. Not the rare surprised laugh they occasionally managed to pull from him. Just a little crinkle around his eyes that wasn’t there before. 

“I’ve been saying it for weeks.” Derek shakes his head. 

Emily points at him dramatically, “Thank you!” 

Reid finally looks up from his book, “I don’t understand.” 

He looks up between everyone and they stare back at him. 

“You don’t see it, Spence?” JJ asks. 

He simply purses his lips and shrugs, Morgan looks horrified. 

“Kid.” 

“What?”

“They’ve got chemistry.” 

“Who’s got chemistry?” Rossi asks, stepping out of his office and down the stairs to lean against the edge of Spencer’s desk. Derek points up in the direction of the conference room. 

Reid shakes his head, “They’re just discussing victimology.”

“Exactly.” Emily nods, “When has Hotch ever looked that happy to do that?” 

Reid studies him for a long moment before letting out a “Ohhh”. 

Inside the conference room you and Aaron are surprisingly unaware of the curious eyes behind you. At least mostly unaware. You were aware of one thing. 

Aaron. 

It was becoming a problem that you didn’t know what to do about. Logistically it was ridiculous. Aaron was older. Significantly older. And he’s your boss. The Unit Chief. The man you have known since you were fifteen years old. The man whose younger brother you dated on and off for years. Every reason possible told you this was a terrible idea. 

Somewhere between Montana and now you started to look forward to seeing him most days. You noticed little things about him you didn’t pay attention to or have the privilege of knowing before now. 

The way he loosens his tie when he is tired. The way he pinches the bridge of his nose when he’s frustrated. The rare smile that appeared when Jack came up in conversation. The new smile that appeared when you were involved. This is dangerous territory. 

So naturally, you’re ignoring it as much as possible, which is becoming harder and harder to do. 

Aaron wasn’t doing any better. He knew every practical reason that told him no. Every professional instinct told him no. Every ethical concern told him no. And yet every time you walk into a room, it is getting harder and harder for him to hide. 

You make him laugh and challenge him. You understand him in a way that very few people do. It wasn’t because you’re a profiler, it was because you knew him before. Before he was in the BAU. Before Haley died. Before Foyet. Before the walls. 

You knew the version of Aaron Hotchner that existed before the grief and you somehow have a habit of bringing pieces of that man back. 

“Sir.” 

He looks over to see a panicked Garcia standing in the doorway with a tablet in hand. 

“What is it?” His brows instantly drop together.

“Florida.” She simply answers, making a face. 

“That’s bad.” You sigh. 

He nods immediately, taking the tablet from her and looking through the case. He steps out of the conference room and stops at the rail. 

“Everyone cancel your weekend plans,” He looks out over everyone in the bullpen, “Wheels up in thirty.”

A chorus of groans pass around the room. It was a Friday and everyone had looked forward to spending the weekend doing various things. It didn't take long for everyone to round up and grab their things. By the time the team reached the jet, it was already fueled and ready to go. 

“Three women missing over the last month.” Garcia explains over the monitor, “All of them taken from touristy parts of Miami.” 

Aaron skims the report in front of him, “Abductions?”

“Likely.”

“No bodies?” Reid questions, looking up toward the screen. 

“Not yet.”

Nobody liked that answer. 

“What about victimology?” You ask. 

“Different ages, backgrounds, and occupations.” Garcia sighs, “I’m looking for other connections.” 

You frown. No bodies and no obvious connections was a rough start. You look out toward the window where sunlight is streaming in. After a minute Aaron’s foot bumps yours and you look back over at the table and then up at him. 

He nods back to the monitor and you roll your eyes before focusing on the case again. Somewhere in Florida an unsub was waiting for all of you. 

-

The second the jet door opens, you are regretting today’s outfit choice. 

“Oh, absolutely not.” You groan. 

Morgan laughs, following you down the jet stairs, “You’ve been here for three seconds.” 

The humidity hit like a physical force the second the air hit your face. You push your sunglasses onto your head to keep your hair away from your face. 

“Who lives like this?” 

“People who live in Florida.” Reid answers and you roll your eyes dramatically. 

“Where are the cars?” Aaron asks, looking out over the tarmac where SUVs would typically be waiting. 

“Oh god,” Morgan sighs, “She’s gonna melt.” 

You bump his shoulder, but regret the physical contact. He practically sticks to you for a second. You unbutton the top button of your dress shirt and fan at your neck. 

Aaron’s eyes automatically follow your hands, watching you pull at the collar of your blouse. The heat was already turning your cheeks a rosy shade of pink. A few loose strands of hair were blowing around, a sheen of sweat gathering from the humidity. 

His gaze lingered, and for a second too long. You look over and catch him, immediately smirking. 

“Hotch, you staring?” Morgan asks, it would seem he caught the moment as well. 

He blinks, looking over at him. 

“What?”

Morgan bursts out laughing and you shake your head, “That wasn’t even remotely convincing.” 

Aaron adjusts his bag on his shoulder, “The heat seems to be affecting your judgment.” 

“Interesting.” You nod, “It would seem I’m not the only one.” 

Emily has to use her hand to cover her mouth in an attempt to hide her laugh. Morgan’s grin was outright dangerous. Aaron shoots everyone a look, landing on you last.

“Good talk.” You walk ahead, noticing the SUVs finally pulling up. 

Twenty minutes later everyone arrives at the Miami police department. The local task force that had requested the BAU was already waiting. The case board covered an entire wall. Three women from three different tourist-heavy areas. No witnesses and no bodies.

You step closer to the board to get a better look at the pictures. The youngest victim was twenty-two, here on a college break. The oldest was thirty-four and was there as a travel blogger. It looked like the unsub was selecting his victims based on opportunity. 

The conference room door opens, a detective walks in carrying a stack of files and copies for everyone. You look up and the detective looks to forget what he was doing. Aaron noticed the sudden falter in his steps. Detective Gabriel Martinez was in his mid-thirties, former military with a good record and a strong reputation. And apparently he was incapable of hiding his attention. 

“Sorry,” He walks toward you, “Didn’t realize we'd be getting reinforcements.” 

Morgan physically bit his lip and watches you smile politely at the detective. 

“Agent Y/FN Y/LN.” 

His smile widens, “A pleasure.” 

Aaron suddenly found him significantly more annoying than he had thirty seconds ago. 

You accept the file from him, “Catch us up?”

Martinez moved happily beside you, Aaron watched the entire interaction closely. The detective points out spots on the map and you nod thoughtfully. The two of you laugh about something and Aaron actually frowns. 

Morgan glances over and sees it instantly. It was very entertaining, for nearly an hour. Everyone was still reviewing evidence and trying to get a baseline for the unsub. You spent the hour exchanging theories with Detective Martinez and trying to get a locals perspective, everything was purely professional. 

“Hey, there’s a coffee cart downstairs...” The detective clears his throat. The team exchanges glances, darting between you and Hotch.

You look up from the file, “What?” 

“Coffee?” 

“Actually,” Hotch interrupts, “The briefing is in ten minutes, we need to prepare.” 

You raise your brows at Hotch, surprised at him interjecting at this. He’s never opposed a quick coffee run on a case before. 

The detective clears his throat again, “Right, I’ll just go. Would you like one?”

You eventually pull your eyes from Hotch to look back at Martinez, “I’d love one.” 

The detective laughs before walking out of the room. You look back at Hotch, who is avoiding your gaze. You shake your head before turning back to the file in front of you. The entire team was watching Aaron and he was pretending not to notice. It was a poor strategy considering it was a team of profilers. 

“Hey, Y/n,” Rossi asks, “Can you call Garcia and give her an update?”

You roll your eyes but stand up anyway, “Even though we’re only ten minutes away from the next briefing?” 

You snatch your phone from the table and walk out of the room to call Garcia. The second you disappear out the door, Morgan strikes. 

“You’re jealous!”

Aaron doesn’t even look up, “No.” 

Rossi laughs loudly, “Aaron.” 

“I’m not.” 

Emily sighs, “Oh, you absolutely are.” 

He finally sets down his file and looks up at everyone. 

“Can you explain why you’ve spent the past hour glaring at him?” Rossi questions.

“I haven’t.”

Emily and JJ laugh, and even Reid looks skeptical. Aaron looks around the room and has no allies, none of them believe him for a second. 

“Let’s review,” Morgan leans back in his chair, “You’ve been glaring, and you interrupted him twice.” 

“Case-related.” He defends. 

Derek shakes his head, “You corrected his profile.” 

“He was wrong.” 

Rossi’s smile widens, “Not entirely.” 

Aaron sighs and now everyone else’s smile gets bigger. He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, somehow making it even funnier. 

You walk back into the room and everyone immediately becomes professional again. You stop in your tracks and narrow your eyes. Aaron snaps up to look at you and your eyes scan everyone else. 

“What happened?” 

“Nothing.” JJ shrugs. 

“Nothing?” You question. 

Derek nods enthusiastically, “Absolutely nothing.” 

You look at Aaron, and then Rossi, and then back to Aaron. 

“Why do I feel like I just walked into something?”

Aaron immediately stands, “Let’s get back to work.” 

“Right,” You straighten, “Can’t be late.”

-

The briefing wasn’t great, there still wasn’t a lot of information to go off of. By seven that evening, the case had officially worsened. A fourth woman had gone missing. Twenty-four years old and taken near the boardwalk in broad daylight. 

The good news? Garcia was briefly able to ping her phone before it was ditched, it wasn’t enough to locate her but it was enough to paint a better picture of the unsub’s hunting ground. The bad news? That was all they got and the clock was ticking. 

The conference room buzzes with tension, Garcia remains on speakerphone but she’s uncharacteristically quiet. Reid and JJ are comparing timelines between victims. Morgan and Prentiss just got back from getting witness statements. Detective Martinez is back at your side again while you review the maps. Aaron notices immediately, of course he does. 

At this point, noticing you had become second nature to him. 

“You know,” Martinez leans against the table casually, his eyes drinking you over, “I’ve been thinking.” 

You don’t even look up, “Dangerous.” 

He laughs. 

“I’m serious.” 

“That’s even more concerning.” 

Martinez smiles, god he thought you were flirting. Everyone could see the reality, except for Martinez. You continue reviewing your work, not even paying him any attention. A missing woman had you very focused on the case at hand. 

“We should compare notes after this.” He pauses, “Maybe over dinner.” 

That finally caught your attention, you look up and he’s smiling confidently at you. 

“A real dinner.” 

There it was, any poor attempt at subtlety was gone. His offer was not professional or ambiguous and that made you sigh internally. 

“That’s kind of you,” You say politely, “But no.” 

A beat passes and Martinez blinks a few times. 

“What?”

Your smile remains the same, “No, thank you.” 

“Oh, are you seeing someone?” He questions, relief briefly settling on his face. You won’t let it last. 

“No.”

Somewhere at the table behind you Hotch snorts and coughs in an attempt to cover it in the quiet conference room. Silence fills up the room after that and for a moment you thought that was the end of it. Then his expression changes, and it was the kind that women noticed immediately. 

Martinez laughs, a short dismissive sound, “Seriously?”

Your smile instantly disappears. 

“Seriously.” You say it slowly and nod as you do so. 

The heads of your team members turned, now openly watching instead of pretending they weren’t watching this all unfold. 

“Wow.” He shakes his head. 

Your eyes narrow, “What does that mean?”

“Nothing.” He smiles bitterly, showing how hurt he really is and shakes his head again. It was clear it meant something, “I just figured all the smiling meant you were interested.” 

The room freezes. 

“Detective-”

“No, it’s fine.” His tone was far from fine, “Should’ve known.” 

Aaron’s head snaps over and the temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees. You recognize the look on his face instantly and know it’s not a good one. 

Martinez wasn’t finished, “You BAU people come in acting like you’re better than everybody else anyway.” 

Your jaw tightens, now you are genuinely annoyed. 

“Maybe don’t act interested next time, save a guy some effort.” 

The words had barely left his mouth when Aaron stood. The entire room felt the danger in the shift and Martinez’s confidence vanished instantly. He crosses the room toward him in quick strides, every profiler in the room gives up on working for the next few minutes. 

“She said no.” Aaron stops directly in front of Martinez and he towers over him. His voice wasn’t raised, yet. 

The detective swallows, “I wasn’t-”

“She said no.” Aaron repeats for emphasis, he remains calm and cold and it’s terrifying. Martinez glances around the room looking for support but doesn’t find sympathy in anyone. 

Aaron takes a step closer, “If an FBI agent politely declines your invitation and your response is to insult her professionalism, that’s a reflection of you.” 

Nobody moved a muscle. Garcia didn’t even utter a squeak. 

Martinez’s face reddens, “I didn’t mean-” 

“No, you did.” Aaron’s voice booms, “You implied she led you on because she treated you with basic professionalism courtesy.” 

The detective looked like he wanted to disappear. You honestly weren’t sure you’ve ever seen someone fold so quickly and Aaron wasn’t done. 

“You are a detective working an active investigation,” The conference room feels even smaller, “And if your ability to work with female colleagues depends on whether or not they agree to date you, you are in the wrong profession.” 

Complete silence. This is Aaron Hotchner angry, which was a rare occurrence. It took a lot to actually make him mad.

“I apologize.” Martinez finally mutters. 

“To her.”

The detective looks in your direction now, “I’m sorry.”

Aaron stares, “I think it’s a good idea for you to find a new case to work on.” 

He nods and actually escapes the room, the door closes loudly behind him. Nobody spoke, took a breath, or even moved a muscle. Finally Aaron breaks his staredown with the door to look over at you, letting out a pant of adrenaline. Your arms are crossed over your chest and it’s clear that you’re still mad. 

You look up at him and point toward the door, “Outside.”

“What?”

“Now.”

You walk out the door and know he follows, the gaze of every pair of eyes in the room watches the two of you go. You walk downstairs and right out the front door of the building to get some fresh air. The sound of downtown traffic breaks up the silence and the heat from the day is lessened now that the sun is down. The look on your face tells Aaron that this isn’t going to be fun. 

“You shouldn’t have done that.” 

His jaw tightens, “He was out of line.” 

“He was.” You nod. 

He looks confused, “Then why-”

“I can handle myself.” You interrupt with the real issue. 

He sighs running a tired hand over his face, “I know.” 

“Do you?”

“Y/n.” 

“No.” You gesture upstairs toward the building behind you, “You didn’t even give me the chance back there.” 

He looks away from you, dodging your eyes which told you everything. Your eyes narrow, reading him better than anyone else. 

“Oh my god.” 

“What?” He questions suddenly looking back and you laugh once in disbelief. 

You take a step closer to him, “So that’s what that was?”

His expression becomes cautious but he lets you continue. 

“So was that protective ‘older brother’ Aaron back there?”

He winces as the words leave your mouth. 

“Or was that Unit Chief Hotch, defending my honor?” 

You pause.  

“Or was that the man who has been staring at me for months and pretending not to back in there?” You raise your brows to show how serious you’re being. 

“Y/n.” He warns. 

“You were jealous earlier.” You cross your arms over your chest again.

The air felt like it disappeared, his expression doesn’t change. You hold his gaze, waiting for him to admit what he knows you can see on his face. 

“Y/n.” 

“Aaron.” 

“Y/n.” He repeated himself but now his tone is a warning, telling you to shut up and pretend this conversation never happened. Pleading with you. Neither of you can look away, you feel drawn closer somehow. Like two magnets fighting the inevitable. Eventually Aaron sighs and it’s a slow surrender, he’s tired of pretending. He relaxes, his head tilting slightly to the side as he melts a little.

“You’re right.” 

Your heart skips a beat. Aaron looks down briefly before meeting your eyes again. 

“I was jealous.” 

The words land and you don’t even crack a joke. 

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He continues quietly. 

Your pulse quickens, “He wasn’t the first.” 

“I know.” 

“Then why now?” 

Aaron laughs softly without any humor because he knew exactly why. This time he cared, far more than he should. 

“You know why.”

Your breath catches and he notices. 

“Say it.” You dare.

Aaron rubs a hand across his jaw, his eyes studying you openly. He knows once he puts it out there, he can’t take it back. 

“I don’t know what to do about this.” 

Your heart softens at the admission. The honesty surprised both of you 

“Aaron…” 

His eyes dart between yours, and he wishes he could hear you saying his name like that on a loop. For the first time since you joined the BAU, he didn’t have any walls up and he takes a step closer to you.

“I know every reason this is a bad idea,” He sighs, “My brother,”

You nod. 

“I’m your supervisor.” 

“True.” 

“The age difference.”

“Yep.”

He sighs again, “And yet… I cannot bring myself to stop wanting you.”

You smile at him softly, “Will you just kiss me?” 

Shock flashes across his face and now it’s his turn for his breath to catch, “That was your takeaway after all of that?” 

Neither of you move to step away from each other. 

“Is that a no?” You smirk, “Because if you-”

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, cutting you off with his lips. His hand cups the side of your face and you let him deepen the kiss. You melt against his touch and welcome his tongue to explore your mouth. After a few seconds you hum, pulling back while remembering exactly where you are. Directly outside of the Miami PD with your entire team close by. 

“I want you too.” You admit, you hadn’t really confirmed that earlier other than by asking for a kiss. 

“Can we try and figure this out sometime after we get back from this case?” He asks, his hand still holding your face. 

You nod immediately, leaning back in to steal another kiss and a quick peck. You take a step back from his hold, the two of you need to straighten back up again. Just in time too as Morgan bursts out the doors and jogs over to join you guys, “If the sexual tension is gone, we have a serial killer to catch.”

You roll your eyes, but you and Aaron follow him back into the police department anyway. Neither of you miss the smiles on each other’s faces before heading back inside. For the first time, neither of you was pretending anymore. 

-

It's been a couple months since Miami and everything has changed. The team noticed it immediately, of course they did. They were profilers and noticing things was literally the job. You and Aaron were taking things slowly. Kind of. 

It was a few dates after returning on the rare nights that the two of you got out of the office at a decent hour. The team tried to trip the two of you up, placing bets on who would crack first. Neither you nor Aaron had any idea one of Jack’s soccer games would destroy any last denials from the two of you. 

Garcia and Morgan wanted to surprise Jack on their Saturday off, and it paid off tenfold when they saw you sitting on the bench passing out orange slices. Garcia nearly passed out when Aaron lean down to press a kiss to your cheek. 

Things were going really well, even now that the team had been clued in on it for a week now. You would wait in his office after everyone left, it felt comfortable and steady. Aaron would tempt you into coming home with him rather than back to your apartment. It was becoming more frequent for the two of you, and you were loving every second.

“We’ve got a case.” Garcia walks into the bullpen, carrying on all the way into the conference room without stopping. Aaron walks out of his office and you automatically look up and catch him staring. You smirk and he immediately looks away, Morgan catches the entire exchange. 

Everyone settles around the round table and Garcia connects her tablet to the bigger screen to display the crime scene photos. 

“What do we know?” Aaron asks. 

“New York City.” She clicks through the images and you wince instantly, “It’s bad.”

Bad was an understatement because the crime scene photos were brutal. Young women in their early twenties with extensive injuries completely mutilated and found in abandoned warehouses. The killer was deliberate, organized, and angry. 

Emily frowns, “That’s overkill.” 

“Extreme overkill.” Reid agrees. 

Garcia swallows, “It gets worse.” 

Nobody liked the sound of that. 

“All of these have occurred in the last nine days.” 

Six different victims were in the file, meaning there was rapid escalation. This unsub has no intention of slowing down. 

-

The jet had just reached an altitude high enough to cruise, everyone is buried in the case file at this point. You sit next to Aaron, Reid and Rossi taking the spots across the table from the two of you.

“It feels personal, he’s got a serious hatred for women.” You comment. 

“It does.” Reid agrees. 

Morgan leans forward from the couch, “These women have to remind him of someone specific.”

“All of the victims had dark hair.” Emily notices. 

The team continues to work, it isn’t a long flight. Rossi looks up from the file between you and Hotch. 

“Hey,” Rossi starts, “Doesn’t Sean live in New York?”

Without thinking the answer came quickly from you, “Yeah, he does.”

Morgan smirks and leans in even closer, “The brother?”

You roll your eyes and nod before turning your focus on Aaron, “We should call him?”

Aaron looks up at you, a second of panic flashing across his face. 

“See when he’s off work?”

He doesn’t say anything and the smile fades from your face. 

“Aaron?”

He hesitates, “It’s been a few years since I’ve spoken to Sean.” 

You stare at him, completely surprised and convinced you had misheard him. You knew they weren’t as close as they used to be, but you had no idea it was this severe. 

“Years?”

The team exchanged looks and it was clear that everyone else was aware of this fact. Aaron hates how genuinely shocked you look. 

You lean back angling yourself toward him, “You seriously haven’t talked?”

He remains silent. 

“What happened?”

Everyone sits back quietly because this clearly has become more interesting than the case for the time being. The Hotchners had always been close. That was how you knew Aaron so well, he came back so frequently to see his brother even when he was busy with school and work. The two of them were close because of how distant they were with their parents, Aaron’s dad has never been someone they could look up to. 

“He hasn’t seen Jack since he was three.” Aaron sighs, “I haven’t talked to him since he didn’t come to Haley’s funeral.” 

“Oh.” 

Silence envelops the entire jet. 

Rossi breaks it, “Does he know?”

“Know what?” Aaron plays along obliviously. 

Derek gives him a look, “Hotch.” 

“No.” You answer simply, “We haven’t told him.” 

Morgan grins and your eyes narrow. 

“He doesn’t know?” Emily almost jumps up from her seat. 

Aaron pinches the bridge of his nose briefly and you close your eyes for a few seconds. 

“We haven’t-”

You can’t finish the sentence. There is absolutely no good way to finish that. 

Morgan still looks delighted, “You haven’t told him.”

You look at Aaron. Aaron looks at you. 

“That’s going to be a fun call.” Rossi leans back in his chair. 

You cover your face, “This is going to be terrible. This is worse than I thought it would be.” 

You and Aaron always knew this was something that would have to be addressed, but both of you had written it off as a future issue. You knew it wasn’t going to be an easy conversation, but you didn’t know he and Sean weren’t even in communication. 

“You could always do it later.” JJ offers. 

“Yeah,” Derek claps, loving this way too much, “He could always find out on the Christmas card.” 

You roll your eyes, “Such an ass.” 

“Merry Christmas. Also, I’m dating your brother.” 

The team breaks out in laughter, but it slows when Aaron’s glare levels the room. You knew it was something deeper that would keep them apart for so long. Something unresolved and painful, the teasing around the room faced away. 

You hold his gaze, everyone else focuses on themselves again. 

“We should call him.” 

He looks at you, his face void of annoyance or defensiveness now. After a moment he nods and reaches out under the table to grab your hand and give it a squeeze. 

“Together?” His expression is warming. 

“Together.” You nod. 

Unfortunately the heartfelt moment lasted about three seconds. Then Morgan spoke. 

“Oh, this is serious serious.” 

It wasn’t long before the New York skyline slowly appeared out the windows. You were confident that Derek’s rapid texting was updating Garcia back home on the recent revelations. Everyone now had a new mystery to obsess over. 

-

The case has gone one for two more days after the team lands in the city. Three more bodies have been found, the unsub was still escalating. The profile had narrowed, the suspect pool was shrinking. 

You called Sean the minute you landed, you forced Aaron to stand next to you on the tarmac so he couldn’t back out of it. The call itself was relatively easy, you and Sean have been in contact for years. 

“Hey stranger.” He answered. 

The conversation picked up like no time had passed, like it always did. By the end of the call, he agreed to dinner with the two of you without hesitation. The only problem was that he couldn’t get away from work for the next two nights. 

Which gave Aaron days to dread the conversation that was to come. 

Now the dreaded evening has arrived. 

“Don’t forget your date.” Rossi chuckles, looking between you and Aaron. 

Aaron doesn’t even look up from the evidence board, “Not a date.” 

“Family dinner night.” Morgan corrects with a wicked grin.

“God, that’s even worse.” You groan. 

Derek cuts you a look, “Coming from the girl dating brothers.” 

“Shut up!” You smack his shoulder. 

“I’ve been waiting for this all week!” Garcia cheers from the laptop. 

You step closer to where Aaron is standing. 

“If you say something about how long his hair is, you’ll sound just like your dad.” You threaten, knowing that will stop him more than anything else you could possibly say. 

“Jesus.” He mutters under his breath. 

“Sorry,” You look back at him and offer a small smile, “we just don’t need to start this off on the wrong foot.”

Aaron knows you’re right, this isn’t going to be an easy conversation. Sean was meeting the two of you at the precinct, you guys didn’t really have time to stray far in case anything developed in the case. 

“Hello, hello!” Sean knocks on the open door and walks into the conference room. 

A smile appears before you can stop it. He looks older than the last time you saw him, a little more tired, but unmistakably Sean. 

“Y/n!’ 

He wraps you up in a big hug, the kind that’s reserved for people who you have known for a long time. 

“Look at you!” 

You laugh and Sean steps back. 

“I can’t believe you’re on Aaron’s team, what are the odds?” 

“What are the odds indeed.” Morgan says quietly enough for most of the room to miss it. 

He shakes his eyes and his eyes finally land on his older brother. The smile on his face fades slightly, but not completely. Aaron steps forward and offers him a hand. 

“Sean.” 

The younger of the two nods and meets his firm handshake, “Aaron.” 

The exchange was civil but definitely awkward. Apparently neither Hotchner knew how to communicate in the presence of the other. Sean starts to notice the group, the famous BAU he had seen briefly a couple times over the years. 

“Morgan, right?” Sean reaches out to shake his hand. 

“Yeah man, good to see you again.” 

He exchanges polite conversation with everyone, making the rounds. You stand at Aaron’s side by the door, his eyes rake over your figure and you can tell he’s nervous. A rare side of Aaron. You give a reassuring nod and small smile to try and offer some comfort. 

Sean clears his throat, the two of you snap up in his direction. His expression slowly changes the longer he stares at the two of you. 

You straighten, “Ready?”

He doesn’t move, blinking a few times. The slow painful realization was becoming clear on his face as he looks between the two of you. 

“No way.” He says weakly. 

Prentiss covers her mouth to hide her reaction and JJ has to turn away. Aaron closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“Sean-” You try. 

“No.” 

He walks right past the two of you, straight out of the precinct. You and Aaron both follow behind all the way out onto the sidewalk. 

“Sean.” Aaron calls after him several times. 

He keeps walking. 

“Are you kidding me?” He tosses over his shoulder, not slowing his stride. 

“Sean, please.” You call, his steps falter for a second before he stops and turns around to face the two of you. 

Twenty minutes later the three of you are sitting in a small Italian restaurant. The shock had not worn off at all and the table was quiet. Aaron looks exhausted and Sean looks like he would rather be anywhere else on the planet. 

“This is unbelievable.” Sean shakes his head, breaking the silence that had been sitting with them since the waiter left, “Aaron, you’re dating my ex girlfriend?”

“From high school.” Aaron reminds defensively. 

Sean points in his face, “Still.”

“It was over a decade ago.” 

Morgan would’ve loved this. Aaron pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a sigh. 

“How long?”

You decide to answer, “A couple months now.”

“Since you joined the team?” His brows raise and you shake your head. 

“Not right away.” 

“Huh.” He reaches forward and takes a piece of bread that had been sitting in the center of the table the entire time. “And you’re both happy?”

You tilt your head, “That’s it?” 

He shrugs, “What do you want me to say?”

“Aren’t you mad?” 

Sean laughs, “Y/n.”

His expression softens and you and Aaron look at each other unsure and confused. 

“We broke up a decade ago.” Hotch holds up his hands at Sean’s words, but he continues anyway, “We’ve been friends ever since. It’s a little weird, but I’m not mad.”

Aaron looks completely surprised. 

“Aaron did tell you for years that you were too smart for me.” Sean reminds.

You snort loudly.

“I do, however, reserve the right to make fun of the two of you about this.” 

“That’s fair.” Aaron cracks a small smile. 

“Extensively.” 

Aaron sighs, “There it is.” 

For the first time all evening, the tension eased. The conversation shifted to lighter topics. Old stories and family memories dominated the meal. Work was part of it, but it didn’t last long since you had to step on Aaron’s foot to drop the judgement over his career path. Some time after the table was cleared and leftovers boxed up, Aaron and Sean started talking. Really talking. 

Years of distance could never just disappear overnight, but it was a start. You noticed the way the two of them had both relaxed. They would never admit it to the other, but they missed each other. 

Eventually Sean points at you, “You know she’s the one responsible for this?” 

Sean is staring closely at his brother. Aaron would admit that this conversation wouldn’t be possible without you. After the years had passed, Sean missing core moments of Jack’s life, he never thought they could get back to this place. 

Aaron nods, “I know.” 

For a moment the younger Hotchner looks genuinely happy. It wasn’t about the relationship, or even the weirdness of it, but just being happy to see his brother smile again. He knew things had been rough, he wouldn’t deny either of you the happiness you clearly bring each other.

Sean raises a glass, “To questionable life choices.” 

You laugh and Aaron groans. 

For the first time in years, both Hotchner brothers laughed together. 

-

You and Aaron take your time walking back to the hotel. The team let you both know that everyone was heading back to the hotel for the night, hoping fresh eyes tomorrow would help. For a few hours the two of you weren’t behavioral profilers. The warmth of the dinner had almost felt surreal considering how it had started. 

It was a brother reconnecting with his family and two friends reuniting.

The elevator ride up was quiet in a comfortable way. You lean against his side as he watches the floor number flash as you climb higher. 

“Tired?” You ask, looking up at him. 

He huffs a laugh that even sounds tired, “Very.” 

“Emotionally?” You tease. 

He glances down, “Mostly.” 

You smile and the elevator doors open. The two of you were only a few doors apart, standard BAU procedure. Separate rooms and separate spaces were the professional way. The two of you stop outside your door. Neither of you are eager to separate. 

“Goodnight, Aaron.” 

His expression softens, “Goodnight.” 

He waits for you to get into the room and for the door to lock before walking down to his room. You immediately move toward the bathroom to take a shower and wash off the day. After the fact you reach into your bag and pull out one of Aaron’s old law school hoodies. It was something you were quick to claim the first time you came over to his place. 

It was faded and comfortable. You saw him wear it a dozen times all those years ago. 

You’re brushing your teeth when your phone lights up on the bathroom counter. 

Aaron. 

You smile instantly and answer the phone and put it on speaker. 

“Miss me already?” 

He pauses and it’s long enough you look down at the phone to see if the line is still connected. 

“Yes.” 

You freeze, toothbrush halfway to the sink. 

“What?”

He sighs and you can practically see him rubbing a hand over his face. 

“I’m aware how that sounds.” 

You laugh, “Aaron.” 

Another pause. 

“I do. Miss you.” 

Your smile was impossible to wipe off now. This was not the composed Unit Chief most people knew, this was the one you have been seeing for months. This is your boyfriend being the needy man he is. You move to your bed, taking your phone with you and sliding under the covers. 

“I’m right down the hall.” 

“Yes.”

“LIke twenty feet away.” 

“I’m aware.” He passed out everyone’s keys, of course he’s aware.

You’re smiling so wide it’s starting to pull on your cheeks, “You know, you’re quite needy.”

He lets out a surprised laugh. 

“You’re to blame for that.” 

You laugh loudly, not expecting that. 

“Sneak in then.” 

The line goes quiet for a few seconds. You can practically see him debating it. It’s late enough now, few people on the team would even be up at this point. The two of you have not done this once since the relationship started. 

“They’ll notice.” He eventually says. 

“Not if you’re careful.” 

He takes a few more seconds to debate. 

“You make terrible suggestions.” 

“Hey, you’re the one who called me all breathy saying ‘miss you’.” 

He laughs suddenly and the sound brings another smile to your face. 

“Twenty seconds.” He hangs up and the line goes dead. 

Less than twenty seconds pass and there’s a quiet knock at the door. You chuckle to yourself and walk over to open the door. 

“Aaron.” You smile. 

He walks straight in, his arms wrapping around your waist. His lips find yours, pressing hard as he backs you up closer to the bed. He pulls back after a few more seconds pass, pressing a couple quick pecks after. 

You smile and run a hand through his hair. You can see the weight of the last few days lessening. 

“Hi.” He smiles. 

His smiles weren’t rare anymore, they happened all the time now. You still appreciate seeing them every time. The two of you move to get under the covers, he doesn’t miss the hoodie you’ve managed to get ahold of. He’s confident this isn’t the only one you’ve got.

Aaron pulls you in against his chest and reaches out to turn off the lamp. The room goes dark, but you can still faintly see his outline in the moonlight. 

He lets out a deep sigh after a few moments pass, holding you a little tighter. 

“Rough day?” You ask, sensing the tension leaving. You trace your hands up and down his arms that are wrapped around you.

“Long day.” He pauses, “A good day.”

Your expression softens because you know exactly what he meant. The conversation and the relief afterward had been a lot to worry about. You could see that he was carrying it for days. Everything you had been worried about somehow worked out.

“You okay?” 

“Better than okay.” He leans in closer to press a kiss behind your ear, “I was worried.” 

“About Sean?” 

You feel him nod behind you and squeeze his hand. 

“He loves you.” 

“I’m glad tonight happened.” He quietly admits. 

“Me too.” 

“I’m so glad you’re here.” 

The words were simple but they meant everything. 

“Me too.”

For the first time that Aaron could remember he felt completely at peace. Even if it was only for one night and the two of you would likely have to face another crime scene tomorrow. Tonight was all he needed. He has you in his arms and that’s enough.

-

an// a little one shot turned LONG one shot just as a mini break from the Hotch series i’ve been working on! so fun, i love dating brothers even tho it’s so so wrong lmao. the beauty of fiction, my loves! please let me know your thoughts, i’m dying to talk about this!

also