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pillow-coded · 3 days ago

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To Have and To Hold — Chapter 9

Summary: A sunny morning, a planetarium trip, and a picture-perfect afternoon. Everything feels almost too good to be true. But when an innocent comment catches Spencer off guard, the day takes an unexpected turn. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Slow Burn Series (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Reader overthinking, a microscopic amount of angst towards the end Word Count: 6.4k

Series Masterlist

The sunlight woke me before the alarm did — sharp and golden across the floorboards, the kind of light that makes everything feel warmer than it probably is. But maybe everything just felt warmer because of how good things were going.

I spent the night over at Y/N’s last weekend. Maddie had fallen asleep in my arms, tiny fingers curled into my sleeve like she was holding onto a dream. The next morning, she’d drawn a picture of the three of us — stick figures with tangled smiles, all holding hands. Y/N saved the fluffiest pancake for me. Just set it on a little plate like it was obvious. Like I was expected to stay for breakfast.

I hadn’t had a nightmare in nearly a week. I wasn’t sure if that meant anything, but… I’d started sleeping with one of Maddie’s drawings pinned to the wall. Maybe that was my saving grace. A little paper talisman that reminded me why things felt lighter lately.

The team’s been side-eyeing me more than usual. If they hadn’t been suspicious after I slipped and said Maddie’s name instead of the victim’s name during the Jensen’s case, along with my little meltdown, then my recent cheerfulness definitely gave me away. JJ cornered me in the hallway yesterday and asked if I was “seeing someone.” I panicked and changed the subject — something about ant pheromones, I think.

But I smiled the whole way home, just from thinking… ‘Yes, I’m seeing someone.’

I stretched, blinked at the ceiling for a few seconds, then sat up slowly. It was a late-spring morning, the kind that smelled like wet grass and felt like a second chance.

When I checked my phone, I already had three messages from Y/N:

Y/N: hi :)

Y/N: I don’t want to overwhelm you or anything but Maddie has been up since 6:13

Y/N: she’s fully dressed, packed her purse, and keeps asking if “Spencer’s awake yet” like I have access to your brain

I smiled to myself, thumb hovering over the screen longer than it should��ve before replying with a simple:

Spencer: Just woke up, but I’ll be there in 15

I got ready faster than I thought I could. Just a minute or two — which was far too quickly compared to other times I’ve seen Y/N, where I stood in front of the mirror way too long, obsessing over how my cardigan sat over my button-up, or whether I looked like I was trying too hard.

Regardless, those two minutes of getting ready gave me three extra to spare and still make it to her apartment in the promised fifteen.

So I made some coffee.

By the time I’d poured it into a travel mug, Y/N had sent a photo.

Maddie, standing proudly in a glittery skirt and a sweater with a purple cat patched across the front. Two mismatched bows decorated her pigtails. Her tiny purse — the one she insisted on calling her “field bag” — was slung over her shoulder. I knew without even opening it that her little “stars notebook” was tucked safely inside, along with that purple glitter pen she guards like her life depends on it.

She was grinning like she’d just won Little Miss Universe.

I forced myself to set the phone down. I grabbed my bag, locked the door behind me, and slid into the driver’s seat — coffee safely in my travel mug, still hot.

I still have ten minutes to get there, and maybe spare an extra minute.

The drive wasn’t long, but the silence gave my thoughts too much room. I took a sip of coffee at a stoplight, trying to keep my mind still, but it never really worked.

It was strange — how natural it felt now. How familiar the route to their apartment had become. Like muscle memory.

I’d memorized the road since the first time I drove there. The house with the overflowing flower garden. The small kindergarten tucked at the corner of the block, right at the intersection where I turn right. The maple trees lined up neatly in front of her building, the leaves just starting to blush toward summer.

With every drive, I start to feel fonder of it all — the road, the houses, the crooked bus stops, even the cracks in the sidewalk. They’re markers now. Little signs that I’m getting closer to them.

Closer to her.

I pull into Y/N’s visitor spot. She gave me the pass last week— It was laminated and labeled — She told me to keep it, since I’ve been coming over so often. Like she expected me to keep coming. Like she wanted me to.

And maybe that’s what made my hands shake a little as I turned off the ignition.

Not nerves, but excitement.

I grabbed my coffee and stepped out of the car, the air still cool enough to nip at my collar. The trees rustled above me, and I counted the steps from the parking lot to her front door without meaning to. I always did. Twenty-six and a half. The last one’s a little shorter because the sidewalk dips just before the porch.

I used to hesitate here. The first few times, I’d stand at the edge of the welcome mat, rehearsing what I’d say. Trying to find the right tone, the right words, the version of myself that felt safest to offer.

Now I don’t rehearse. I just knock.

Because she always opens the door like she’s expecting me.

Because Maddie always squeals when she sees me — like I’m not a visitor, but someone who was meant to arrive.

Because this place — this life I only just started to tiptoe into — doesn’t feel like borrowed time anymore.

It’s starting to feel real.

And that… that’s the scariest, and best, part of all of it.

“Wow, you actually made it in fifteen minutes.”

Y/N’s voice hit me first — amused, teasing, the kind of dry warmth that always makes my stomach twist in the gentlest way. She was leaning against the doorframe, hair pulled back loosely, one hand on the knob and the other braced against the edge like she hadn’t just opened the door, but welcomed it. Welcomed me.

“Spencer!!!!”

Maddie was already charging at me before I could answer. Tiny shoes tapping against the floor, pigtails bouncing with each step. She wrapped herself around my leg like a very sparkly, very enthusiastic barnacle.

“You’re here! You’re here! You’re here!”

I laughed, steadying my coffee so I didn’t spill it all over her glittery skirt. “I told you I’d be here.”

“Mommy said you might still be brushing your hair.”

Y/N gave me a look over Maddie’s head — clearly not sorry.

I shrugged. “I considered it.”

“Well,” she said, pushing the door open wider, “you still look very brushed. Come in. She’s been waiting at the window like a cat.”

I stepped inside, careful not to trip over Maddie, who was now spinning in tight circles like she needed to release excess joy from her limbs. Y/N closed the door behind me with her foot, already halfway back toward the kitchen, muttering something about “goldfish crackers and fruit pouches.”

She was in motion — efficient, focused, a little chaotic in that way she always got when she wanted things to go perfectly.

“There’s still some breakfast on the counter, Spence. Feel free to grab some.”

“Oh, I’m good,” I said, lifting my travel mug. “I made myself some coffee.”

Y/N turned from the kitchen just long enough to give me a look — not annoyed, just deeply unimpressed. “You didn’t eat, did you.”

I hesitated. “…No.”

She sighed, grabbed a piece of toast from the counter, and handed it to me like a doctor prescribing medication. “You need to eat. Coffee doesn’t count as breakfast.”

I took the toast. “It’s… efficient.”

“It’s not,” she said, already back to zipping up Maddie’s backpack. “It’s a shortcut to passing out in a planetarium’s lobby.”

Before I could come up with a defense, Maddie darted into the room, swinging her bag behind her like a superhero cape, the zipper half-undone and a stuffed dinosaur hanging out the side.

“Mommy packed the purple gummies,” she whispered to me like it was top secret. “And two juice boxes. The good ones.”

I nodded seriously. “Sounds like you’re well-prepared.”

Her bag sat open on the counter. She zipped it, unzipped it again. Added a water bottle. Swapped one snack pack for another. Then checked it again. I watched her take out a tiny travel-sized sunscreen, hesitate, and put it back in.

“I know we’re going to be indoors mostly,” she said, more to herself than to me, “but there’s a courtyard, and she’ll ask to run around. I just know it.”

“She’ll probably demand us to play tag,” I offered.

Y/N looked up at me and smiled — flustered, fond, flushed. “Exactly.”

She double-checked the wet wipes, the napkins, the bandaids. Paused. Then checked again.

I didn’t say anything. I knew this part wasn’t about the snacks or the wipes or even the backup hair ties. It was about feeling ready. Feeling in control of a day she desperately wanted to go right.

She caught me watching and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like I’m going crazy. You deep cleaned your apartment before our tea night.”

I held up my hands in surrender, smiling into my coffee. “Fair.”

“Ready to go?”

I nodded, tightening the lid on my coffee. “Yeah. You?”

She let out a breath — not frustrated, just one of those quiet exhales that meant she was trying to ground herself. “I think so.”

Her eyes scanned the apartment one last time. She touched the strap of her bag like she wasn’t sure it was secure, then tugged Maddie’s tiny jacket out from the hook by the door.

“Mads, come here!”

“I am here,” Maddie announced, appearing dramatically from behind the couch. She held her Rapunzel doll in one hand and her glitter pen like a dagger in the other.

“Shoes,” Y/N said, pointing. “Both of them. Preferably matching this time.”

“But mommy, I want the pink sparkly one, and the silver one with lights…”

Y/N sighed, already glancing down at Maddie’s feet — two completely different shoes, equally chaotic in energy. She opened her mouth, probably to protest, but then… stopped.

Instead, she knelt down, brushed a curl from Maddie’s cheek, and smiled — soft, tired, full of something I couldn’t name but wanted to memorize.

“Alright,” she said gently, “just this once.”

Maddie lit up like she’d been granted a royal decree. “Yessss,” she whispered, triumphant, and immediately stomped her light-up foot to make her point.

Y/N stood back up and looked at me, shrugging like this is my life, but her smile hadn’t faded. If anything, it was stronger now. A little messier. A little softer.

“Fashion icon,” I murmured.

“You’re enabling her.”

“I’m just respecting her creative vision.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no heat in it. “Alright. Bag?”

I held it up. “Secured.”

“Maddie, You’re really bringing Rapunzel?”

“She wants to see the stars!” she shouted, already halfway out the door.

Y/N followed with a resigned but affectionate sigh. “Alrighty then… to the car we go.”

We made it down the steps in a not-so-orderly line — Maddie skipping every other stair, Y/N trailing her like a bodyguard with a purse and backup hair tie in hand. I unlocked the car and held the door open while Maddie climbed into her car seat with a surprising amount of coordination.

“Mommy, can we play I Spy while Spencer drives?” she asked, already strapping herself in like this was a full mission briefing.

Y/N gave her a look in the rearview mirror. “Only if we keep the volume at indoor voice levels.”

“I am inside,” Maddie argued, completely missing the point.

I smiled as I buckled in. “You can start. Just give me a second to warm up my deduction skills.”

“Okay, okay…” Maddie squinted out the window like a tiny detective. “I spy with my little eye… something that’s blue!”

“The sky?” Y/N guessed.

“Nope!”

“Your juice box?” I offered.

“Wrong again!”

I glanced in the rearview, then pointed toward the front seat. “Is it the museum flyer in the pocket?”

Maddie squealed. “Yes!!! That was so fast!”

Y/N looked at me like I’d just performed a minor miracle. “How did you even see that?”

“I have very advanced observational skills,” I said, sipping my coffee.

“Uh-huh,” she said, trying not to smile. “Just keep your eyes on the road.”

So I did.

We drove in that easy silence with the occasional interruption of Maddie humming in the backseat between guesses, Y/N leaning her head lightly against the window, sunlight catching in the strands of her hair. I didn’t say much. I didn’t need to.

The city passed by in flashes of spring color. Street signs I didn’t have to read anymore. A left turn I’d already memorized.

By the time we pulled into the planetarium parking lot, Maddie was pressed up against the window like it might disappear if she blinked. Her feet kicked excitedly, mismatched shoes flashing pink and silver like twin beacons of chaos.

“We’re heeere!” she sang. “I see stars! I see rockets! I see a UFO!”

Y/N laughed. “That’s the rooftop observatory, baby.”

I turned off the engine and smiled at the two of them. “It’s a retractable dome — it opens up so the telescope can track celestial objects without obstruction. Some of them are motorized to follow the rotation of the Earth.”

Maddie’s eyes widened like I’d just handed her the moon.

“Can we go in there?”

“Maybe,” Y/N said, glancing at me with a grin. “If our tour guide keeps the facts coming.”

I sipped my coffee. “I haven’t even started.”

“That is so cool,” Maddie whispered.

Y/N turned to me, eyes warm. “See, this is why you’re not allowed to skip these things,” she said, nudging my arm. “We’d miss all the fun facts.”

I felt myself smile—small, but real.

“Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s goooo!!” Maddie squealed, grabbing both of our hands and yanking with surprising force for someone who barely clears three feet.

Her tiny fingers wrapped around mine, sticky with what I hoped was just juice residue, and I let her drag me forward. Y/N laughed beside me — not the quiet kind, but the full, unguarded kind that made my chest ache in the best way.

We jogged awkwardly behind her, Maddie setting the pace, completely unaware of how fast her little legs were moving.

“She thinks she’s leading a mission,” Y/N panted, half-laughing as we reached the doors.

“She is,” I said. “Operation: Get to the Dome Theatre sky show in record time,”

Y/N giggled. It was a sound I never wanted to forget.

The kind of sound that makes everything else go quiet for a second — like the world stepped aside to make space for just that.

Her eyes met mine, bright and unguarded, and something shifted. Just a flicker. Just enough to make my steps slow down, even as Maddie kept tugging us forward.

I wanted to say something — something clever, maybe, or meaningful. But the moment passed before I could catch it.

“Come on!” Maddie whined, yanking harder on our hands. “We’re gonna miss the rocket show!”

“It’s not a rocket show, sweetheart” Y/N said, breathless from trying not to laugh. “It’s literally about the stars.”

“Well the rocket gets us there!”

“Mads, wait,” she called, chasing after her. “We have to buy the tickets first.”

Maddie stopped with a huff, her sparkly shoes blinking in protest. “But the show’s gonna start!”

“It’s in twenty-five minutes,” Y/N replied, pulling her phone out of her coat pocket. “You’ve got time to bounce in place.”

We reached the counter, and Y/N was already halfway through digging into her purse for her wallet when I stepped up beside her and offered my card without thinking.

“I got it.”

She blinked. “Spencer—”

“It’s fine,” I said, quietly, not looking at her just yet.

“You’re gonna have to let me pay one of these days, you know?”

“Maybe,” I reply and turn back to Maddie, leaving no room for discussion. “You ready, Captain?”

Maddie’s face lit up with a bright smile. She brought her hand to her forehead in a crooked salute — all enthusiasm, no coordination.

“Aye aye, space wizard!”

I couldn’t help it — I smiled. It tugged at the corners of my mouth before I could stop it. She had that effect on me. Both of them did.

Y/N watched the exchange with a look I couldn’t quite name. Somewhere between amusement and something softer. Something that felt like it might crack me open if I stared at it too long.

“Alright, crew,” she said, brushing her hand lightly against my back as she started walking toward the exhibit hallway. “Let’s blast off.”

And just like that, Maddie took off again, arms out like wings, narrating her own mission under her breath.

I followed a step behind them, coffee still warm in my hand, heart a little fuller than it had any right to be.

Maddie’s shoes squeaked softly against the polished floors as we stepped into the dimmed glow of the Space Gallery — all navy-blue walls and tiny flecks of light that mimicked stars. She gasped so dramatically you’d think she hadn’t just spent the last hour talking about constellations. Her hand immediately reached for Spencer’s.

They walked a few steps ahead of me, her dragging him to the first exhibit like he was the one who needed guidance. Spencer tilted his head slightly, reading one of the displays with quiet focus. I could already see the gears in his head turning.

“Did you know a single teaspoon of neutron star material would weigh about 6 billion tons. That’s more than all of humanity combined?”

“What’s a neu star?” Maddie asked, her voice bouncing off the curved walls like it belonged there.

Spencer looked down at her and instinctively lowered himself a bit, like he wanted to meet her where she was — not just physically, but entirely. It wasn’t performative. He wasn’t showing off. He just wanted her to understand.

“A neutron star,” he said, so gently it almost caught me off guard, “is what’s left after a really big star explodes. It’s super small, but so heavy it would sink right through the Earth if you dropped it.”

Maddie stared up at him, unconvinced. “That’s not real.”

He smiled at her like she was letting him in on a secret. “It is. I promise.”

She thought for a second. “Is it heavier than my bag?”

He nodded. “Definitely.”

“What about my couch?”

He barely hesitated. “Think about a trillion of your couch.”

Her eyes widened. “Wow.”

And me? I just stood there. Watching them. Feeling something bloom in the center of my chest that I didn’t know what to do with. Not because it was surprising — not really — but because I had no defense against it.

He made her feel smart. Important. Listened to. He didn’t just tolerate her curiosity, he fed it, gently and patiently, like it was the most natural thing in the world. And I’d dated men who couldn’t even hold a two-minute conversation with her.

I wasn’t sure when I’d started looking at Spencer like this. I only knew that now, in this light, with starlight reflecting off glass and her tiny fingers still curled around his hand… He was no longer just the guy I was falling in love with… He was starting to become part of our little family.

It was getting harder to pretend I didn’t notice.

“My teacher told me space is quiet,” Maddie said, pointing to a photo of an astronaut drifting alone, weightless and small against the vast black behind him. The image made me ache a little, though I couldn’t say why. Maybe because I knew that kind of floating.

“Actually, space isn’t entirely silent,” Spencer replied, gently. “Contrary to popular belief.”

And just like that, his voice slipped into that soft cadence he used when he was explaining something — the one that made even the most complicated ideas feel like bedtime stories.

I watched him, watched the way his hand stayed loosely around Maddie’s, the way he glanced toward me halfway through the sentence. Like he was making sure I was still listening. Like he wanted me to hear it, too.

“While space is a vacuum,” he continued, “sound can travel through plasma waves. Spacecraft like Voyager have recorded electromagnetic vibrations, and those can be converted into sounds. That’s how we get those haunting recordings — those low, eerie tones from deep space.”

He said it like it was magic. Like science and wonder didn’t have to cancel each other out.

Maddie gasped. “So there are noises?”

He nodded. “Not like voices or music. But the universe… hums.”

And I don’t know. Maybe it was the way he said it, or the way his eyes lingered on mine a second too long. Maybe it was just the way he stood there, so calm, so sure — like the universe wasn’t so quiet after all.

But I felt something settle in my chest.

A kind of humming, too.

And it had everything to do with him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, catching me staring.

I blinked, caught. “Uh… yeah. Sorry.” I smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s just… what you said. It’s really interesting.”

It wasn’t a lie. But it wasn’t the truth, either.

What I meant was: You’re really interesting. You make everything feel a little more possible. I’m falling for you faster than I thought I would. And it scares me. And I still want to keep going anyway.

But I didn’t say any of that. Just smiled. Just walked with him to the next exhibit. Just let the hum settle a little deeper into my chest.

The quiet, steady hum that now lived with the image in my head — of him and me, floating in space… weightless, slow-dancing among the stars.

Maddie tugged on our hands again a few minutes later, pulling us toward a life-size cardboard cutout of three astronauts standing on the moon. Their helmets were cut out, faces missing — waiting to be filled.

“Mommy, can we please take a picture? Please, please, pleaseee?”

She was already halfway into the cutout before I could answer, sticking her head through the middle astronaut and waving her arms like she was floating.

I glanced at Spencer. He looked amused. A little hesitant, but not in the no kind of way. More like he was waiting for permission to be silly.

“Come on,” I said, nudging him gently toward the display. “You can be the one on the right.”

“What about you?” he asked, even as he stepped into position.

“I’ll be left.” I smiled. “We’ll let the captain take center.”

Maddie beamed.

A nearby planetarium staff member — young, kind-looking, with a smart camera clipped to her side — had been watching. I waved her over.

“Would you mind taking one for us?” I asked. “She’s really into the moment.”

“Of course,” she said with a grin, already unclipping the device. “We’ve got a quick-print model. Want me to run a copy for you?”

“Yes please!” Maddie chirped from inside the helmet.

The staffer raised the camera. “Okay, astronauts — big smiles! Say ‘zero gravity!’”

“ZERO GRAVITY!” Maddie screamed, right in my ear.

I laughed so hard I nearly knocked the cardboard loose.

Click.

After, we stepped out and leaned together to look at the screen on my phone. The photo was... chaotic. Maddie’s expression was wild-eyed and joyful, mine a little blurry from laughing, and Spencer—

Spencer was smiling.

Not that small, nervous half-smile he gave strangers. Not the polite, professional one.

He didn’t even notice he had that smile on—he couldn’t have noticed the way it made my heart flutter out of my chest.

The attendant stepped aside, tapping at the small screen, and within seconds, a glossy photo began printing from the side. She handed it to Maddie, who took it like it was the single most valuable object in the galaxy.

“Oh my gosh, look at me!” she squealed. “I look so cool.”

As she spun in a circle with the photo, Spencer stepped forward — quiet, casual, almost as if trying to be discreet. It was as if he didn’t want us to know he wanted to keep this moment. “Is it possible to print one more?”

“Sure thing,” the staffer said, feeding the request into the machine.

He waited, then slipped the second print into his wallet when he thought we were not looking, but I was. I was looking, and I was melting.

The man I met not so long ago — guarded, uncertain, stitched together by his own quiet grief — was now keeping a picture of the three of us in his wallet.

Like we were his.

Like he wanted us to be.

And God, if I wasn’t already so in love with him… this would’ve been the moment.

“Mama, I’m hungry,” Maddie said, tugging at the hem of my sweater and breaking the thought clean in half.

“There’s a cafeteria here,” Spencer said gently, glancing down at her, then at me. “It’s just past the next exhibit hall.”

I nodded, still catching up with my own heartbeat. “Yeah. That sounds good.”

Maddie was already on the move, leading the way as if she knew exactly where she was going — like she’d memorized the map in her dreams. Spencer fell into step beside me, and for a moment, we didn’t say anything.

We didn’t need to.

“Let’s go sit at that table with the stars on top!” Maddie shouted, already halfway there before either of us had a chance to say yes. Her shoes lit up with every step like she was walking across a galaxy. She was positively buzzing — like the gift shop, the theater, and the entirety of outer space were somehow all crammed into this little lunchroom.

“Star table it is,” I said, watching as she hurried to the table. “Sweetheart, Spencer and I will go get the food. Don’t move from the table.”

“Okay!” she chirped, already climbing into the seat like she was buckling into a spaceship.

We turned toward the line, and I could already feel it — the way Spencer’s presence settled beside me. Close, but never overbearing. Just there. In that way he always was now.

“She’s in full astronaut mode today,” I said as we grabbed a tray.

“She’s very committed to the mission,” he smiled beside me, “I think she thinks this is her command center.”

“She’s not wrong,” I murmured. “We’re just lucky she hasn’t tried to assign us matching uniforms yet.”

He chuckled — a low, unguarded sound that slipped right through his ribs and out his mouth. I was convinced i would never get tired of hearing it.

I grabbed us a spot in line while he hovered near Maddie, making sure she was safe and wouldn’t cause any havoc from her excitement. From a distance, they already looked like a family. They were a picture I’d dreamed up once and forgotten, only to stumble into it again by accident.

By the time he joined me in line, I’d pulled myself back together. Mostly.

“She’ll want the mac and cheese,” I said, scanning the kid’s menu. “But she’s going to ask for no green things.”

“No green things?” Spencer echoed, like he was entering it into some invisible file.

“She has a personal grudge against anything remotely herbaceous,” I said. “If there’s a microscopic fleck of parsley on the edge of the plate, she will know.”

“She sounds like a tiny food critic,” he said, looking entirely too fond.

“She once asked a waiter if he knew spinach was actually poison,” I deadpanned.

Spencer laughed — He kept laughing throughout the day, and I swear, each time it chipped away at whatever guard I’d carefully built between us. Weakening me in the best, most dangerous way.

I just looked at him.

And he looked back, eyes warm, mouth tugged into this impossibly soft smile. It made me feel like my ribs might disintegrate under the pressure of how much I wanted him.

I was sure I was blushing. I could feel it blooming up my neck, burning behind my ears.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t tease or ask what I was thinking. He just… kept looking. Like I was something worth paying attention to.

And I wanted to stay right there — suspended in that silence, caught in the gravity of him — for just a little longer.

But then Maddie waved at us from the table like she was trying to land a plane, and I exhaled, breaking the moment before it could swallow me whole.

We got our food and made it back to the table, where Maddie had arranged her napkin like a placemat.

“Mac and cheese, no green things,” Spencer said, placing the tray in front of her. “Just how the captain likes it.”

She looked up at him like he’d just granted her a wish. “How’d you know that?”

“Well, Maddie, you forget I’m a wizard,” he said, like it was obvious. Like there was no other explanation necessary.

She looked absolutely enchanted. I looked at him.

And there it was again — that quiet pull in my chest. The part of me that ached in a way that wasn’t painful, just… full. Too full.

I slid into the seat across from him, setting my drink down as Maddie arranged her napkin like it was part of a formal galactic dinner.

Spencer took a bite of his hot dog and immediately got mustard on his sleeve.

“Oh,” I said, grabbing a napkin. “Hold still.”

“I’m fine—”

“I know.” I smiled, dabbing at the spot anyway. “You’re not being arrested. I just don’t want you to look like a guy who lost a fight with a condiment.”

He held still. Let me wipe at his sleeve like it was the most natural thing in the world. No awkward flinching. No muttering about how it didn’t matter.

Just... stillness.

Trust.

“You didn’t even try to stop me,” I teased, tossing the napkin into a pile.

“I figured you’d win anyway,” he said, voice softer now.

I glanced up. He was already looking at me.

And suddenly the table felt smaller. The air thicker. Not in a bad way — just charged. Like something unspoken had landed between us, and neither of us quite knew what to do with it.

“I don’t always win,” I said.

“You always do with me,” he replied — then took a sip of his drink like he hadn’t just casually short-circuited my brain. “You two always do.”

Maddie, mercifully, broke the silence by nudging his arm. “Can I have some of your cookie?”

He blinked, like he’d momentarily forgotten she was even there. “Of course.”

He broke it in half and handed her the bigger piece.

I watched it all — the soft way he passed it to her, the quiet smile on his face when she called him “Space Wizard” again.

And the hum in my chest — that same one from the gallery — came back full force.

We lingered at that star-covered table longer than I meant to. Long enough for Maddie to finish her meal and long enough for Spencer to wipe a crumb from the corner of her mouth without thinking. Long enough for me to realize — again — that he fit here. With us. So effortlessly it almost hurt.

Eventually, Maddie pointed toward the glowing sign near the exit and gasped like she’d just discovered treasure.

“The gift shop!”

I didn’t even have time to respond before she was on her feet, stuffing her bag under one arm and dragging Spencer by the hand with the other.

“Come on, come on, come on!” she cried, bouncing with every step. “We have to get space stuff!”

Spencer looked back at me helplessly as she pulled him along, and I just laughed, tossing our trash away and hurrying to catch up.

The gift shop was a blur of overpriced glow-in-the-dark toys, constellation kits, stuffed astronauts, and themed candy. It should’ve been overstimulating — the kind of place that gave parents a headache.

But for some reason, it felt… nice.

Warm.

Maddie darted from aisle to aisle, narrating every item like it was part of an expedition. I followed behind, but Spencer stuck close to her, letting her explain which rocks were “actually from the real moon” and which plushies were “too pretty.” He took it all in with that same quiet interest — like none of it was beneath him.

After a while, she held up a glow-in-the-dark space puzzle, her arms barely able to carry the box.

“This one! Mommy, please? It glows like actual stars!”

I took it from her to check the price, already reaching for my wallet.

But Spencer was faster.

He stepped in without a word, card already in hand.

“Spencer,” I warned, but he didn’t look at me — just handed it to the cashier with a polite smile.

“I’ve got it.”

“I thought we agreed you were gonna let me pay this time,” I muttered, trying not to smile.

He glanced over at me then, that little gleam in his eye like he knew exactly what he was doing. “No, you said that. I said maybe.”

“Smartass.”

“Mommy,” Maddie said, peeking up at me with wide, curious eyes. “What’s a smart ass?”

I froze. Spencer turned very still beside me, lips twitching like he was trying not to laugh.

“It’s… uh…” I cleared my throat. “It’s a type of donkey. Very clever. They use them in space missions sometimes.”

Maddie blinked slowly, unconvinced.

“You’re lying,” she said flatly.

Spencer coughed into his hand. “She’s kind of right, actually. There’s no documentation on NASA space donkeys.”

“See!” Maddie said, triumphant.

I gave him a look. “You’re not helping.”

“I’m trying not to laugh,” he whispered back, and God, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled — I wanted to bottle it.

The cashier handed over the bag with a smile. “You three make such a cute family.”

The world tilted.

Just slightly.

And then I felt it — the shift in Spencer beside me. Subtle, but instant. The way his body tensed. The way the warmth drained from his smile just enough to feel it.

He spoke before I could.

“Oh—uh, we’re not a family.”

It was quick. Sharp. Like he wanted to make sure it was said before it could be misinterpreted — before the moment could get away from him. His voice had that practiced ease to it, but I heard the hitch underneath. The flicker of nerves.

And still, it stung.

It shouldn’t have. I knew it shouldn’t have. Because he wasn’t wrong. We’re not a family. That word carries weight, permanence, things we’ve never said out loud — maybe never even let ourselves think for more than a second. We’ve been orbiting something unnamed for weeks, months. Carefully. Cautiously. Never too close.

But maybe, deep down, I’d started to believe in the blur between what we are and what we could be.

Maybe I liked living in that bubble. The warm, soft, unspoken place where our mornings felt like rituals and our laughter echoed like it belonged to something bigger. Where he kept photos of us in his wallet. Where Maddie called him a wizard. Where we just... fit.

And now the bubble had burst.

One sentence. One reflex. And suddenly everything felt colder.

I forced a smile. The kind you give strangers who compliment your outfit — small, polite, harmless. I didn’t let it reach my eyes.

He quickly payed for the puzzle, like he wanted to get out of there as soon as he could.

“Right,” I said, like it hadn’t scraped against something raw inside me. “Just friends.”

We stepped out into the late afternoon sun, the sky now a gentler blue, the kind that comes after a long day of wonder.

Maddie skipped ahead of us on the sidewalk, her sparkly bag swinging wildly in her grip, pigtails bouncing with every uneven step. She was narrating something to herself — something about stars and space wizards and how she was going to “glow in the dark” when she got home.

I couldn’t make out the words. I wasn’t really listening.

I clutched the museum bag in my hand a little tighter, fingers curled too tightly around the soft plastic. It crinkled loudly with every step. I didn’t let go.

Spencer walked beside me, just close enough that our arms nearly brushed. He said something — something low, something gentle. A comment about the gift shop or the sun or Maddie’s energy levels. I couldn’t even tell.

I nodded. Maybe I smiled. I don’t know.

I just kept walking.

Because my heart was still back at the checkout counter, sitting quietly next to the words we’re not a family.

He didn’t mean anything by it. I know he didn’t.

And even if he did… he’s not wrong, we’re not a family.

But that doesn’t stop the part of me that wishes we were — That he wanted us to be.

Previous Chapter |

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voidpvllman · 1 day ago

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freaks • bob reynolds

summary: the early days of a new team being assembled: the settling, the fighting, the dysfunctional dynamics that lead into a family, and maybe even something more. bob is desperate and pining, too awkward to say anything, or getting interrupted every time he tries or finally talks himself into it. you are angry at the world, now once again fighting for people that turned on you after you lost control. stuck living with people you barely tolerate, eventually like, and could maybe even love. training and fighting, being pushed to get your powers back, after swearing to never use them again; all while fighting off sneaking feelings that feel a lot like love.

content: angst, jealousy, void (almost) and sentry appearances! pining, anger issues, mention of self harm, self hatred, bpd, traumatic pasts, fluff, kinda family dynamic, kissing, slow burn, sexual themes but not explicit, desperation, a little makeout

[ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ʰᵃˢ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳˢ ˢᶦᵐᶦˡᵃʳ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵃⁿᵍ ᶜʰᶦ: ˢᵏᶦˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵐᵘˡᵗᶦᵖˡᵉ ᵐᵃʳᵗᶦᵃˡ ᵃʳᵗˢ, ˢʷᵒʳᵈ, ᵇᵒʷˢᵗᵃᶠᶠ, ᵉᶜᵗ; ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃⁿᵈ, ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷᶦᵗʰ ᵃᶦʳ ᵐᵃⁿᶦᵖᵘˡᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ

yelena flipped you over on the mat; leg wrapped over your hip, laughing as she pinned your face to the ground. you groaned, slapping the mat in defeat, “this is pointless! i’m not getting any better.” you hated how hard you were breathing; you hated how easily you had been beaten again. “don’t be so hard on yourself… most people can’t beat me. especially when you’re out of practice.” you glared at her at her subtle brag, “i’m just saying, you have only been training again for two weeks.” “and i don’t think i’m getting any better, yelena! i just- i don’t.. succeed at anything anymore. i can’t do anything…” yelena sighed, watching you sadly, “i know we haven’t known each other long… but from what i have seen, no one else here can handle a sword? and that’s pretty damn cool. you are our best brains, you keep us all on schedule and map out our missions and make the plans-“ “i don’t know what you saw on my file, yelena, but… i don’t even think i could lift a sword anymore. i haven’t… i’m retired.” you exhaled, laying flat out on the mat, “i got someone hurt, i lost control… ever since, it’s like everything is just… gone.” yelena watched you sadly, “that was ten years ago! you were a child...” you just shook your head, “i think i’m done for the day. i- i don’t think i’m ready. i may not ever be.” you crossed the gym floor, feeling much angrier and more frustrated than you had before you started. you ignored the grunts and swears coming from the mat, now that two competent people were fighting. you glanced over your shoulder as bucky sent walker flipping to the ground. john groaned, holding his ribs as he sat up, “damn,” “sorry.” bucky shrugged, “you’re lighter than you look.”

you turned your attention to the punching bag in front of you, taking all of your anger and frustration out in a punch. it felt good to hit something that didn’t fight back or send you straight onto your back. you felt a low growl come from your throat and suddenly all the frustration and anger became the bag’s issue. you relentlessly punched out, fists stinging as you made contact over and over. you ended up screaming at it, beating at it until you saw blood on the bag. you looked down at your knuckles; skin peeled back, blood dripping between your fingers. “damn it.” you should have wrapped your knuckles, you should have warmed up more. there was a cramp in your side, tears blurring your vision- from the pain in your knuckles or frustration, you weren’t sure but you just felt embarrassed now. the others were looking at you from across the room, concerned, worried, maybe judging slightly.

you felt anger surge in you again as you turned away, storming back to your bag. your knuckles throbbed, stinging as the open air tickled against the open skin. you swore quietly, hating how useless you felt, hating how pathetic you looked against the rest of the team, hating yourself for how you had let yourself get this way. “hey,” you jumped, pulled from your thoughts by the shy voice, “are you okay?” you held your breath, pushing away the pain and anger as glanced to bob over your shoulder, “fine,” you always made sure you kept your tone from reflecting your emotions, “i’m okay. just frustrated… and angry and…” you zipped your gym back up a little too roughly, cursing as the zipper tab snapped off. “damn it!” bob tilted his head slightly, eyeing you sadly, “are- are you sure you’re okay?” you sighed, finally looking up to to meet his gaze, “i’m just not having the best day, alright?” your tone sounded impatient, but there was still that hint of softness. “oh…” bob deflated just slightly at your change in tone, “sorry…” you rubbed your face, now angry at yourself for being cold to the one person here that didn’t push you in training, didn’t demand you try harder, didn’t wait for you to be better again. “i’m sorry. i- i don’t mean to be a bitch, i-“ bob looked up at you, eyes widening slightly; he wasn’t used to the others apologizing for raising their voices or snapping when he got in their way. “you aren’t-!” he had said it a little too quickly, “you… i don’t think you’re a-…” bob ducked his head slightly, shyly, as if he didn’t want to say the word. you smiled just slightly to yourself; he was charming, in his shy, awkward ways. “well, thank you. it seems you’re the only one that thinks that…” you hauled your bag over your shoulder. bob was muttering something to himself, before his voice finally came out loud enough to hear, shaking slightly, “hey, would you ever want to go—“

“nice job on the bag, time bomb!”

you tensed at the nickname, snapping your head to look at walker; he meant it playfully, but god, the anger that spiked through you made your hands shake. bucky looked at you darkly, sending a warning glare over to john, shaking his head just barely. “thanks walker, i was picturing your face!” bob snorted, face turning red as he tried covering it with a cough. you glanced at him just barely, eyes twinkling with something playful and kind. bob somehow reddened even more, hand coming to rest on his neck to scratch an imaginary itch. “i’m going on a grocery run. have a list ready when i’m out of the shower.” there were nods of acknowledgment around the room, though bob, thankfully unnoticed, was now struggling at the mention of you in the shower.

you dried your hair just enough that it wouldn’t soak through your shirt once you put it on. you stared at yourself in the mirror, towel still tucked securely around you. how did you get here? with these people, once again fighting everyone’s wars, once again fighting for people that had nearly called for your incarceration after saving them the last time. you grabbed the black t-shirt tossed beside you and pulled it over your fresh sports bra. it was hot out, but you hated shorts, so you decided on your favorite pair of jeans. they had holes in them, the denim was worn thin, but you couldn’t bare to throw them away. you were just going to the grocery store, and could have just thrown sweatpants on, but you felt that you needed the comfort of something familiar and sentimental- for emotional support- today. you tossed your towel in your laundry basket and grabbed your phone and keys. your boots were nearly as worn through as your jeans, and you swore within a month the soles would have holes in them. bob was sitting on the couch, nose buried in a book as you crossed through the living room area. you spared him a glance, small smile creeping on your lips. you heard what the others said about him, how he was unstable and dangerous. but you just saw you. broken, misunderstood, completely forgotten and abandoned by the world.

bob looked up, eyes widening as he caught you staring. “hi-“ his voice failed him, coming out as a squeak, then a cough to cover it up. “hey,” you held back your amusement at his shyness he still had towards you, even after living in the same house. bob kept his eyes on you, soft, expectant. waiting for you to say something else, because god knew he wouldn’t. “i’m just.. going to get groceries for everyone…” bob closed his book, stumbling to his feet before his mind could stop him, “do you need help? it’s..late.. and…the city can be weird at night.” you couldn’t hear how fast his heart was beating, or see how much his cheeks had reddened, or feel the fact that he was about to throw up or pass out. “oh, no, i-“ you were planning to sulk all night, brooding with a murderous expression on your face— scaring off anyone who would approach you in public with your rbf alone. it could be nice to have someone for once, a distraction from your own friend, a break from hating the world, something like a friend… “sure. if you want to.”

bob’s knees almost buckled but he forced himself to play it cool. he wasn’t about to throw up. he wasn’t going to throw up on her boots… he wasn’t going about to pass out. he would not pass out every time she looked at him and collapse, tripping her in the street… “okay-“ his voice squeaked again and he felt his cheeks heat up. you just smiled at him softly, not laughing at his blushing, not making a joke about his damn voice crack.

bob didn’t stand a chance.

bob pulled on his shoes at a walk, nearly crashing into the table as he scrambled to pull on his sweatshirt and walk. you held back a laugh, propping the elevator door open with your hip as he caught up with you. “hi,” he was smiling again with those shy, anxious eyes widened just slightly, as they met your gaze. “ready to go?” he nodded, far too eagerly, trailing behind you as you stepped in the elevator and the doors closed. bob felt like the walls were closing in, the elevator heating up to a dangerous level. you glanced over to him again, your usual glare not present, “you okay, bob?” your voice was so soft and full of concern- towards him- bob almost melted. he swallowed quickly, forcing himself to nod once, “yes! yes. yes, i’m… i’m fine. i just..run hot.” the blush on his cheeks would be a nice cover for that lie. he did run hot, but he didn’t always feel like he was about pass out, throw up, and have his heart burst through his chest all at once.

bob’s eyes widened slightly as you clicked your car keys and a 1980’s mustang beeped in response. “you- you drive that?” he hadn’t meant to sound so surprised, he was just in awe of every aspect of you. “were you expecting something boring?” you met him with a playful smirk. “n–no! never! never from you.” he reddened even further, and almost matched the shade of your car. you kept a sparkling eye fixed on him until you climbed into the driver’s seat. bob climbed in beside you, slowly, head like a swivel as he took in the interior. you watched him and tried to fight the smile creeping up your lips. “do the others know this is what you drive?” you smirked devilishly, “nope. because i don’t want their food wrappers and crumbs in it.” bob’s eyes widened slightly, frantically patting his pockets incase he he had forgotten he had snacks with him. “bob, chill.” you laughed lightly, eyeing him in amusement. bob reddened again, sitting up stick-straight, “sorry, i- sorry-“ you laughed again, “relax...” you put your hand on bob’s shoulder and the heat on his cheeks now spread throughout all of him, rapidly. his eyes widened, snapping up to your soft smile and sparkling eyes. “it’s just us. you don’t have to be tense and…” you gestured to his fidgeting. bob breathed in deeply, “right. sorry.” being just us, as you had said, was actually even more nerve wracking and terrifying and dizzying. and relaxing around you was actually impossible because he was the only other side of conversation and felt like he couldn’t talk to you without sounding stupid or squeaking like a prepubescent child.

you passed your phone to bob as you backed out of the parking spot. he eyed you with wide eyes, feeling like he had been handed something sacred and very forbidden. “pick something,” he eyed you, glancing at the aux cord dangling between your fingers. the radio had been upgraded to connect to an aux, while everything else was authentic and classic. you caught him admiring and smirked, “i like older things, but i still need my music.” “i don’t- um- know…” bob scrolled through your spotify, feeling lost. “just pick something, robert! i’ll listen to anything.” “okay, uh-“ bob picked a random album, looking pale as he set the phone down cautiously. the first few notes started and you hummed, eyeing him quickly, “what-“ she say up straighter, “what did i do- did i not pick a good-“ you held your hand up, shaking your head, “it was a good choice. interesting…” bob felt like he was being tested and was terrified of failing it, “interesting good..?” “interesting, interesting. you didn’t pick anything modern, but you also didn’t just pick the first thing on my spotify. so you saw my music taste and picked accordingly. you didn’t choose journey, which is a classic choice, if not slightly basic. ac/dc was a good pick.” bob nodded, exhaled, breath shaking just slightly. you made his head spin. he loved it… “i don’t think i have the best music taste. i usually just..listen to whatever is on the radio. my dad would listen to older rock, but…” your eyes snapped to him and he nearly flinched, “does this remind you of him?” the way you looked at him, bob would never get used to. so intensely, so softly, so full of concern, like you really cared. like you saw him and not his mistakes. it was a softness, but it wasn’t pity; you looked at him like he wasn’t something fragile that needed to be tiptoed around. “i—“ god he had been lost in those eyes and his inner monologue about you. you had asked about his dad- had your music reminded him of his dad? no.. god, no. nothing about you could ever remind him of that monster… you were good and soft and light…the complete opposite of everything he grew up with and ever knew… “no, it’s- nice- i like it.” you eyed him again, looking for any tell in his eyes, “okay… good.” you smiled to yourself, silently making a note of how he looked at you. and at how much different you felt away from everyone else… with just him.

bob pushed the cart, trailing beside you, very aware of your hand resting on the handle of the cart, inches from his own. he had to remind himself to breathe, focusing so much on not moving his hand or twitching a finger that he didn’t hear you say his name. “sorry- i- what?” he looked to you with an embarrassed expression, cheeks flushing again. god, you probably thought he ran so hot that he was always inches away from overheating. “snack requests? niche brands you prefer?” “i-“ he couldn’t just request his very child like taste in food around you, even if he did really want the usual, comforting, favorites. “i don’t really…do snacks. i like…fruit and stuff…” you narrowed your eyes at him slightly, “boring. you sound like bucky and john.” he watched you grab a box of cereal— from the kids section, not the grown up protein cereal. you eyed it, picked up another one, compared them, grabbed a third box. “which one?” coco pebbles, captain crunch and apple jacks. “i-“ it was his type of comfort food; you had no idea what you were doing to him. you eyed them all again before dropping them all in the cart, “all of the above it is.”

damn it, you were perfect.

after entirely too long in the junk food isles, and a fit of inappropriately loud laughter over an unfortunately named generic brand of candy, the cart was looking like a preschool teachers’. “two twenty four packs of mac and cheese?” bob looked at you with a playful smirk. “yelena…” you eyed him playfully, “plus, it’s valentina’s bill.” bob laughed at this and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. he had fake laughed in too many scenarios; stiff and uncomfortable.

“in that case, we should get one more…”

you smirked, “i thought about it but i can’t reach it.”

bob cleared his throat, waved his hand dramatically and bowed. he reached over your head and grabbed the last box of yelena’s macaroni and cheese. you forgot he was six foot. he carried himself so small, like he was always scared to take up space. “why thank you, sir.” you smiled genuinely, feeling your face heat up- you had lost track of how many times you had laughed or sincerely smiled this evening… “hey, i think i’ll bring you on all my grocery runs from now on.” bob’s heart skipped at this, hiding his red face behind the box of macaroni and cheese, “please do,” it came out before he could stop it. bob stumbled over his words to try and save it, “i mean- you shouldn’t have to shop for a superhuman team alone. …a-lot of bags to carry..” you met his eyes and there was something in your expression- something behind the slightly narrowed eyes, the quirked up eyebrow, the barely there smirk. finally you spoke and bob could breathe again, “sounds good… it’s a date.”

bob could not breathe again.

most nights you spent alone, in your room reading, while most of the others were out on missions or training exercises. you and bob would occasionally pass each other on the way to or from the kitchen, nodding in acknowledgment with a small smile. you both were happy being alone, content in the silence, lost in a book or movie. lately, however, nights the others were gone, you had wandered out into the living room. bob was already there, half interested in his book. his eyes found yours immediately, a small, hopeful smile on his lips, a far too eager glint in his eyes. you sat beside him silently, shocking yourself that you had someone you didn’t mind keeping you company. bob shifted slightly, giving you more room as he turned back to his book in silence. this had become routine when the others weren’t around and the tower was quiet and void of stupid arguments or mission talk. each night started in silence, as if neither of you wanted to disturb the other, as if there was an invisible thing that kept you from getting too close or starting casual conversation. one night as you grabbed your book to head to the living room, you were stopped by bob, standing right outside your door. “hi-“ you exhaled, failing to hide the surprise in your voice. bob just smiled softly, “i was going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie…” oh? “okay?” you fought away the smile that wanted to spread across your lips and ignored the warmth spreading in your chest. “i um-“ bob looked at you nervously, not quite sure if you were agreeing to it or waiting for him to actually ask you. “so-“ he shifted slightly, already feeling stupid, “do you..want to?” this time you did smile widely, “sure,” you stepped aside and held your door open, to which bob’s eyes widened and he looked like he may faint. “oh- um-“ “you can come in, robert. i don’t bite.” bob looked truly ill, buy he stepped inside your room with his best attempt at a stable smile.

“unless you want me to.” you added with a playful smirk, watching as bob took in your room and then suddenly tensed. “i- oh- well-“ bob cleared his throat, trying to pull himself together and recover from your joke. bless your heart, you always tried lightening the awkward tension with playful jokes or sugestive comments. you couldn’t do things like that around bob; he physically couldn’t handle it and would now spend the next twenty minutes trying to calm himself down and remind himself that it was just a joke, no matter how much he really would have liked it if you- no. bob shook his head which earned a sideways look from you. “fine,” bob mumbled it, placing his pile of movie selections on the bed, hands resting casually against his waist. he had gotten himself all worked up and now was in an even worse situation. you had to force yourself to look at the bed, force yourself to ignore his twitching and obvious situation. you really should stop teasing him, after all it had started innocently and playfully… but now… no. no time for that. you picked the closest movie, not really looking through them, but recognizing the title. “my tv is better than the one in there. for some reason, smartly- valentina assumed we wouldn’t be using the living room tv for group hangouts.” your voice was playful but it was hard to ignore there was a man sitting on your bed, in your room. you sat beside him, and he damn near scooted completely off the bed on the opposite side. “robert.” your voice was soft and scolding, “you don’t have to sit that far away. please get comfortable…” you eyed him, putting your spare pillows in the space beside you against the headboard for him. “are you sure- i can sit on the floor?” “i didn’t offer my room so you could sit on the floor awkwardly and be uncomfortable.” or maybe he would be more comfortable away from you and your stupid jokes… he looked at you quietly, still waiting for you to change your mind. instead, you pulled your covers back for both of you, looking at him softly, “robert.” bob finally climbed in next to you, sitting down so painfully slowly you thought he was terrified to wrinkle your sheets. you looked at him incredulously, simultaneously trying not to laugh. he winced in embarrassment, finally settled beside you, pulling your blankets over his legs. he wasn’t breathing. you could tell he wasn’t breathing because of how tense and awkward he looked. “robert,” you sighed, looking at him softly, wishing he could just fully relax around you, “i won’t bite you.” bob exhaled, finally sinking deeper into the bed and pillows behind him, the smallest playful smile on his lips, “unless i ask you to?” your breath caught in your throat as you turned to look at him. his eyes had darkened, playful expression gone; replaced with something hungry and testing. you were holding your breath now, suddenly very aware of how hot it was and how close he was to you. bob didn’t look away from you, for the first time since you had known him, he was looking at you with such intensity…and desperation that you felt shy. you wanted to look away, make more distance between you and pretend you didn’t notice the heat and electricity in the room. “right,” you finally squeaked out, nodding weakly. bob actually smirked, darkly, in amusement, clearly proud that he had for once gotten a reaction from you. he looked away from you, head falling against the headboard with a smug smirk. his jaw was clenched, clearly struggling with similar feelings as you, clearly trying to force them away. damn him… you cursed yourself for breaking your number one rule. never ever let anyone get close.

you pummeled the bag again, kick, punch, attempt to jump and kick higher, swear when you failed. the music in your headphones was loud enough to drown out any thoughts and make you deaf. just how you liked it… upper cut, right hook, punch to an imaginary gut. you were still very aware of the eyes that would occasionally look up from behind the pages of a book, watching you sweat and suffer. hitting the bag harder forced your mind away from him, away from the weekly grocery trips— that had also turned into introducing bob to different music, picking new nicknames for the team, a few inside jokes, and most recently, ice cream on the way home– away from the very clear shift that had happened three weeks ago. more often than not, it was the two of you left in the tower alone, while the others were off saving the world- or more minor things. they weren’t liabilities. they were trained. they didn’t have powers that needed to be held back so no one died. your heart was pounding, muscles throbbing, sweat pouring down your forehead and into your eyes. you wiped your eyes, squinting as you opened them once again.

john walker took up your entire field of vision, directly in front or you. you shrieked, throwing out your fist before you could process who it was. “god—!” john stumbled backwards, hand over his nose. “shit-“ you pulled your headphones over one ear, rushing towards john who was stumbling back to his feet. “i’m sorry- i didn’t-“ john pulled his hand away, blood covering his hand and dripping through his fingers. “oh—“bob had looked up, looking pale at the sight of the blood. “bob, get a towel—“ “i’m fine.” walker waved bob off, pushing away from you slightly, “you act like i haven’t been punched before.” you returned with your crumpled shirt from your back, smacking john’s hand away to hold it against his nose. it was better for a shirt to catch his bleeding nose, than his hands that caused blood to drip all over the floor. “thanks.” john reluctantly took the shirt from you, with a slightly apologetic look as he realized it was your shirt. “i can find another plain white shirt, i’m sure.” that one had been your favorite, but you could find another.

“i have been punched before.” he repeated it, the slightest hint of amusement on his face.

“not by me.”

“i think you broke it…” john almost sounded impressed. “you broke my focus…” you responded with a playful smirk. “why were you standing there anyway?” “i was trying to talk to you. i had been yelling for a full minute, but you couldn’t hear me over your angry music.” you grimaced apologetically, realizing sleep token was still blasting from the headphones around your neck. “sorry about my angry music.” your tone was sarcastic as you turned to pause the music from your phone. “why didn’t you ask bob to get my attention?” bob glanced up slightly at his name. walker glanced over to him with an eye roll of annoyance, “i tried.” bob smirked just slightly at this.

“he didn’t want to bother you. he said you were focused.”

“i was focused.”

“he said you might hit me.”

“i did.” you smirked to yourself and heard bob cough behind you. walker laughed this time and you were positive it was the first time he had appeared genuine in front of you; laughing, instead of scowling or complaining. “that was a hell of a punch.” your eyes glanced back to him, playful, amused, almost smug. “i mean it. it feels like you’re getting a lot stronger. it looks like it too.” walker eyed the muscles up your arms and to your shoulder; obviously more defined than they had been weeks ago. you watched his eyes study you, tensing slightly. john wasn’t even saying it in a flirty way- he wasn’t even looking at you like he was thinking anything like that- he didn’t make you feel uncomfortable, but it still felt off, standing this close to him with just your workout bra, soaked in sweat, still breathing hard… “next time you punch…” john gently cupped your elbow, guiding your arm to a different position. he moved your thumb just slightly, “you’ll break it otherwise.” something shattered behind you, causing you both to jump apart, eyes wide. bob was standing, eyes glowing golden, glossy, expression far away. “what are you doing, bobby-“ you shushed walker, taking another step away from walker. bob’s eyes snapped to you, golden rings gone from his irises. he looked confused, glanced at the bench he has been sitting at, trying to remember why he got up. “sorry, i-“ walker had tightened his fists slightly, waiting. “what did i…” bob glanced at to the glass bottle you had been drinking of, now shattered on the floor, “are you okay?” his confused expression immediately turned to concern, “did you drop it? don’t walk by it…” walker’s jaw was clenched, his eyes dark, expression failing to hide the confusion, caution, maybe even fear. “i’ll clean it up…” john sent a final glance to bob; it was cold, warning. you exhaled, not letting your expression falter as you gave bob a small smile, “come on… you can borrow a new book from my room, while i take a shower.”

you rubbed your face with the towel, still feeling the sweat on you. still feeling walker touch your skin. still seeing the burning in bob’s eyes when you looked at him. you wrapped the towel around your middle, groaning to yourself. you had other things to worry about besides whatever the hell that was. you didn’t need to worry about unstable flares of power showing, you didn’t need to worry about your skin tingling when someone touched your bare skin for the first time ever- without it being punishment or violent. you opened your bedroom door and nearly jumped out of your towel. “holy sh— bob!” bob was stretched out on your bed, new book in hand, eyes widening to what should have been an impossible size, “oh-“ it came out as a squeak. bob scrambled off your bed, collapsed to the floor, mumbling something as he tried to stumble back to his feet. “i’m sorry- oh god- i’m so sorry-“ you would have laughed at any other time; the redness on his face made it difficult to even be mad at him. you did say he could get a book from your room… you had never specified for him to take it somewhere else to read. you bit back a smile, trying not to laugh as he just stayed on the floor, on the opposite side of your bed. he was still muttering to himself, damn near hyperventilating. “robert.” no response. he was clearly afraid if he stood up you would shoot him. you shook your head, turning to your closet to find clothes. “robert…” no response. you rolled your eyes with a slight amused smirk, closing your closet door behind you. you pulled on sweatpants and a sweatshirt yelena had cut the neckline out of and then decided she didn’t want. it was not what you would usually wear; exposing your entire shoulders, loose on the arms and slightly baggy everywhere else; but she was right, it was comfortable.

when you stepped out of your closet, bob was waiting on the bed again. he was looking at the floor. “hey,” you snapped by his head and his eyes locked up to yours. “you okay?” you pushed the book aside and sat beside him. “i’m sorry.” he was fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves, “i’m sorry for- being in here- for- you told me to grab a book, i-“ “bob, it’s fine. honestly. i said you could come in here.” you had to talk him out of it before he started spiraling. “hey,” you placed the gentlest finger on top of his hand. his eyes snapped to your finger tapping the back of his hand. he breathed in shakily, eyes wide, staring at your finger like it had shocked him. his hand felt hot under your touch, his pulse quickening slightly against your wrist. “you can be in here, alright? i said you could. if you want to read… or sit on my bed… or if you ever need to talk.” he looked up at you with glossy eyes. he didn’t say anything, just looking at you, “it’s stupid.” you furrowed your brows, “what’s stupid–“

“it feels safe.”

bob looked to the floor again, clearly embarrassed, secretly trying to fight the urge to just get up and walk out. “being in here. being with you… you.” you exhaled, the words tumbling around in your mind, making your head spin, “you think i- you feel safe in here?” bob started fidgeting again, “i told you it was stupid.” “no- hey-“ someone felt safe with you. someone wanted to be around you, stay close to you, sit in silence with you, hang out in your room reading, reading while you worked out, volunteering to go to the grocery store with you. “it’s not stupid. it’s not. it’s really sweet, actually… it’s nice being looked at as.. someone comforting. instead of…” you shook your head, not wanting to go there, “don’t be embarrassed. it’s an honor. and really. come in here whenever you want. even if i’m not here. just- don’t… don’t be weird.” you nudged him with a playful smile, trying to break the serious tone. “oh- no! no, i would never do anything weird. i- i promise.” “i know, bob.” you gave him that same playful look, trying to assure him it was only a joke, “i let you in my car, remember?” bob laughed just a little, sad eyes looking up at you with the faintest smile.

bob leaned back against your headboard as he read, the fidgeting stopped, he was no longer radiating heat, he was just still, lost in a book, content. you glanced over at him occasionally, trying to focus on your own book, ignoring how close you were to someone else in your bed. “you and walker, then?” the words startled you right into a sitting position, looking over to him, hoping you had heard him wrong. he didn’t look up from his book, though his hands shook slightly, knuckles white as he held the book. you just stared at him, waiting, trying to process why this conversation was happening. “walker?” bob tensed slightly. bob said nothing, glaring into the book, eyes not moving on the page. was he- no. was he jealous? of walker?

“because of—?“

“it was me.”

he closed the book, sitting up quickly, face close enough to feel his breath, “the glass.” you held your breath, not sure if him remembering was a good thing… yet part of you wanted to hear him say it. to tell you why it happened. “i don’t know what happened. i was just sitting there and then walker—“ his hand shook slightly, eyes flashing, the slightest shadow passing across his face. “stop,” you grabbed both his hands in your own, “it’s fine. it doesn’t matter. no one got hurt…” “but they could have. you could have…” you exhaled slowly, “but i didn’t. glass breaks all the time… it got cleaned up and it won’t get brought up again.” “but if something happened-“ “nothing happened. walker was there, he-“ bob shook his head, twitching slightly, “can we not- don’t say his name…” his voice was still soft, but it had deepened slightly. this was what the others feared. the instability in his movements, the shaking in his voice, the darkness behind his eyes. “okay… okay. we won’t.” bob looked at you softly, shy, haunted by something, “i’m sorry. i don’t- i don’t know-“ you took his hands again, trying to pull him back to you and out of his own head. “i don’t think you would ever hurt me.” you weren’t there- in new york, in the void- you heard the stories. the horrors. but you just couldn’t imagine… even still. “i know you wouldn’t.” bob shook his head, “i wouldn’t. but you weren’t the one i wanted to hurt...”

a chill ran down your spine, breath catching in your throat. you shifted, just slightly- not away from him, not letting go of his hand. bob looked up at you with a sad expression, “i’m scaring you…” he jerked his hand away, expression hurt. he looked angry, disappointed, betrayed…broken. “no.” you ignored your pounding heart and the twisting in your stomach. “i should go… it’s late…” “no.” bob uncrossed his legs and was walking to the door as soon as his feet hit the floor, “stop. robert-“

“i’m sorry.” he shook his head again, posture deflating slightly, “i really am, i—“

you forced yourself to follow him, grabbing his arm, “robert, stop. i’m not afraid of you.”

bob stopped, his tense body relaxing slightly at your touch. he took a deep breath, turning to look at you over his shoulder; his eyes glowed behind his hair- but they weren’t golden.

“maybe you should be…” his voice was too deep, too dark. he tugged his hand away from your grip, stepping through the threshold, door slamming shut behind him; never once touching it with his hand. you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. it came out in a sob. you hadn’t realized you still had the ability to cry, after all the years of playing cold, staying unattached, acting like the bitch and playing the character that no one would miss– until the tears started falling.

you were in the gym before bucky or john, after not having slept a single second. there was an energy drink and a cup of coffee sitting beside your gym back this morning. you would either be buzzing enough to complete a record length workout, or you would get a quick shortcut to cardiac arrest. you didn’t have a routine ever, just moving to whatever you felt would get the most frustration and aggression out. you hadn’t realized it had been two hours; and you hadn’t realized bucky, yelena and walker were all watching you, wide eyed. the bag broke free of it’s hook, slamming into the wall as you swore. you turned slowly, sweat soaked and lost in your own head; nearly falling over when you came face to face with john. you flinched and this time he held his arm up in case you struck with your fist first again. “picturing my face again?” you almost laughed, the smallest smirk twitching to your lips. bucky whistled, eyeing the bag that now lay helplessly on the floor, “that’s definitely more like your track record…” you eyed him, almost appreciatively, but instead of thanking him you tipped your water to your lips and drained it, “i’m going for a run.” yelena didn’t hide her surprise, silently wondering how you suddenly still had the energy. you nodded to her as you brushed past, head still spinning.

there had been a moment where you knew you should stop– that you were pushing yourself too hard. it was after your stomach muscles felt like they were going to tear, and before your vision had started going funny. your breathing had evened out, body realizing you must have been in a survival situation and convincing your lungs they needed to get over it. your head throbbed, your vision danced slightly, black creeping in around the edges. every time your feet hit the ground, your head felt like it was hit with a baseball bat. you were nauseous, stomach now demanding you to stop or else. you finally did, bracing yourself against a tree, taking in a breath so deep that it hurt. you swore again, letting your head fall against the tree. you closed your eyes, relishing in the overdue rest. footsteps behind you snapped your attention back; you lifted your head so quickly you felt whiplash, “yelena,” you had meant it to be friendlier, “i caught up with you- you’re fast-“ she was out of breath slightly. yelena hated running so the fact that she came after you was a compliment. “you okay? you seem kind of…” she gestured to all of you and then made a grumpy expression. you would have laughed if you didn’t feel sick or in pain everywhere, “fine.” you forced it out, holding your side, “sure, right.” she eyed you with a speculative expression, nodding sarcastically. “i’m fine,” you looked at your watch, only mildly concerned at how many calories you had burned before eating. “bob is looking for you.” your body betrayed you by it’s reaction. you tensed, eyes snapping up to her’s, widening slightly, “is he okay?” yelena’s speculation only grew, crossing her arms, “why wouldn’t he be okay? did something happen?” you hated how she could read people. she was asking, but she knew. “i-“ “walker told me bob looked like he wanted to rip his head off while you two were training. does that sound familiar?” you exhaled, “we almost had a visitor from a certain shadowy friend.” “because john got too close to you and was touching you.” she was amused. “no.” shit. yelena was smiling just slightly, lips tight, eyes scrutinizing you, “because john was touching you-“ “yelena-“ she waved her hand, “whatever. i’m not going to tell you what i see.” are you sure about that? “talk to bob.” she jogged past you without another word, and you swore you could feel the smug expression on her face. you groaned, silently cursing her as you turned, preparing to walk back.

you had not, in fact, talked to bob. but you also were not going to avoid him. he sat next to you on the couch, half reading, half glancing up at you when he thought you couldn’t see him. he was fidgeting- badly- worse than you had seen him in a while. his fingers tapped against the spine of his book, his foot wiggled side to side, and his knee bounced up and down. he was practically vibrating. “bob,” you finally forced yourself to look at him. he froze, eyes widening, cheeks flushing. he had been shaking the entire damn couch. “is something bothering you?” his foot was moving again, “sorry- i’m sorry- i just-“ he closed his book, turning to look at you, “did something happen last night?” oh. “i don’t… i don’t remember… i feel like.. something happened? between us? or…” your heart sank but you felt as if you could breathe easier, “nothing happened.” if he didn’t remember there was no point in reminding him, especially when it was nothing. he looked at you, nodded once, but behind his eyes he didn’t believe you, “okay…” you smiled softly at him, happy there wasn’t this thing between you. “we didn’t um…?” bob’s fingers traced his chin, a phantom brush against his lips. you hated the way your heart leapt at the thought, “oh- no… we didn’t.” shit, it was like you were running again. “you would remember.” you hadn’t meant to say it, but the shy smile and blush on his cheeks was worth it. he nodded, slightly struggling for words, clearly trying to pull himself together. “okay-“ it was quiet, shy. he wasn’t meeting your eyes.

“are you… getting groceries later?”

it was grocery night. john had offered to go with you. you didn’t want john to go with you. you wanted bob to come with you… god, you wanted bob to come. “i am.” please come. “okay. i’ll come.” once again, your damn heart acted like a frantic bird slamming into something, trying to break out.

you had ended up sitting in the park, stars trying to flicker past the light pollution of the city. bob sat next to you, shifting a milkshake between his hands. you held your own ice cream, watching it melt in it’s cup. your body still felt tense, frustration and irritation pulsing through you; now mixed with something else. bob was watching you, silently, foot tapping anxiously, eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made you flinch.

“do you think they’ll ever fully accept us?”

the question hit you like a punch; leaving you feeling like someone had just punched you directly in the gut, taking all the air from your lungs and stolen your words. “i-“ you couldn’t remember if sentry had telekinesis abilities, but his eyes weren’t glowing, so maybe he was just thinking the same thing you had been. “no.” it came out as a sigh. bob’s expression saddened and you wished you hadn’t been so blunt. he nodded once, looking at his feet, “that’s what i thought.” the sadness in his voice made you recoil, cursing yourself for answering honestly. “i think yelena tries. she tries to understand and… include me. but i’m not like them. i can’t control it. i can’t fight… not without.. the other guy…” you felt yourself move closer to him on the bench, “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said-“ “no.” bob’s voice was soft, “don’t apologize. you’re honest. you’re one of the only people that have ever been honest with me.” you felt your heart swell at that, not used to someone appreciating your honesty. “i think they’re lucky to have you. even if you can’t control your powers… there might come a day when you need them. when they need you. one day it might not matter if you can control it, they might just need you.” bob looked at you again, eyes tracing your entire face, likely trying to figure out if you were just saying that to make him feel better. you wouldn’t do that. he knew you wouldn’t. you were the most honest person he had ever meant, even when it was harsh. you kept your eyes locked on his own, feeling that damn tug in your stomach again, ignoring the way your heart jumped.

“they should be happy to have you.” bob broke the stare again, shifting awkwardly, “you do everything for them… forget needing powers.” you scoffed, shaking your head, “anyone can get groceries and write things down, robert.” bob was looking at you again, sadly, “that’s not all you do. that’s- hey-“ he grabbed your hand and you may as well have been electrocuted. “look at me.” you did not want to. you were too scared to see the look he was giving you and what it would do to you. “you’re so much more than just their.. what? house keeper? manager? bullshit.” you looked at him finally, and god, it about did you in. his eyes were burning into yours, intensely, desperately, “you talk them down from fights, you defend me every time they…” his eyes dropped only for a moment, “you make me feel okay. no one has ever done that. yelena tries… she understands to a point… she- but not like you. you don’t treat me differently. you treat me like i’m more normal than they are. like i’m someone worth-“ bob’s jaw clenched and unclenched and you swore if he started crying you would really be out for the count, “i’ve never had that. you make it all okay. for all of us… they all respect you. they don’t say it… they should say it. but you’re so much more than just their housekeeper.” you weren’t completely buying all of it, but you nodded, “i’m glad i mean something to you too.” you hadn’t meant to say that. bob’s eyes snapped up again, listening, clinging to you with his eyes so he didn’t miss a single thing you said. “you-“ you looked away now, not able to handle the intensity and passion behind his eyes, “i’ve never been good for anyone. it’s usually just screw ups and getting people close to me killed.” bob had stood up now, “that was an accident—“ you shook your head, begging the tears to go away, “it wasn’t.” bob had seen it. in the void, in your shame room. he was there, but he still didn’t understand it. “you were a child. trained- manipulated… to be…” he was kneeling in front of you now, eyes locked on you like you were the only thing in the world. “i killed her, robert.” his hands found your knees, resting on them, trying to pull you back to him, despite still being scared to touch you, “stop.” his voice was pleading. “they told me if i went out there and found her and lured her back, i wouldn’t have to kill her. as long as i showed them i was strong enough to act on it-“ you couldn’t feel his fingers grip your knees tighter, “they promised… then they shot her.”

his hands moved to your wrists, holding them, pleading with you to look at him. he knew all about spiraling. about getting lost in your darkest thoughts and getting pulled down. he wouldn’t let that happen to you. he couldn’t watch you relive it again. “look at me.” warmth against your hands pulled you to him, bleary eyed, mind still far away. his eyes glowed a gentle golden, locked on you, not aware of anything else around him. “that wasn’t you.” “i should have just grabbed her and run-“ it came out as a sob and you wished you were just alone, that he wasn’t here to see you like this. “i’m not going anywhere.”

right, mind reading…

“you both would have died, then and you wouldn’t be here. and god, i don’t want a world where that’s the case.” your eyes snapped to his at that and you became aware of how close he was, then. of how he was looking at you, of his hands in your own, of the fact that he was kneeling between your knees. “i—“ he was slightly out of breath; you didn’t know if he was dizzy from your closeness, if he was using his powers to calm you and if it was draining him. or if it was something else. if it was the same feeling you had, a heat in your stomach, the lightheadedness, the roaring in your ears, the tension in you that begged to just be let out… the absolute desperation and need you felt for him that could no longer be ignored and shoved down.

his lips were on you, then; hungry and messy. you gasped as your hands found his hair, fingers tangling in it, pulling him further into you. his breath shook as he took a deep breath against you. “wait, i’m—“ bob’s hands shook slightly, eyes glowing brighter than the stars above you, “i can’t control-“ he was fighting to pull himself away from you, fists clenched as they shook. “i’m sorry-“ you found his lips again and he didn’t protest. his entire body was warm, radiating like a furnace against you. he melted into you, body trembling slightly, fingers shaking as they traced the outline of your shirt. your breath caught, the feel of his finger tips against the skin on your hips making your head spin. bob’s full weight was against you, practically sitting on your lap, melting into you, losing himself against you. his fingers traced your shirt, tugging up slightly on the fabric. “robert-“ you were breathless, lost in him, but also very aware you were on a public bench. “robert-“ you pushed him gently, almost laughing at his dazed expression and light drool on his lips. his eyes still glowed, but there was a darkness behind them. his nose brushed against yours, breathless, tilting his head just slightly to reach your lips, “robert, we’re still in public-“ you exhaled shakily, tilting just slightly out of ready of him. “right,” he breathed out, face reddening, expression still dazed.

bob shifted off you, groaning slightly, pouting as he did. “‘m sorry,” he smiled stupidly, grinning at you like he had just won the entire world. “don’t be sorry for that.” you smirked at him, letting him help you to your feet. god, he made your head spin. he dropped the groceries in the back of your car, climbing in the passenger seat with a sleepy smile. “so… home then.” he sounded disappointed; you felt it… “everyone might be asleep…” bob met your dangerous expression, “or gone…” bob placed a torturous hand on your knee as you put the car in drive.

you put groceries away with shaking hands, fully aware of how bob was looking at you like you were his next meal. he was reading from the couch, but his eyes were above the book, watching your every move. the others were either asleep or not home- you didn’t know, and you didn’t really care. you placed the final box of cereal in the pantry and turned around just to be nose to nose with bob. you exhaled, cursing your legs for growing weak. “i would like to finish what we started.” your breath caught, not at all used to bob being forward and confident. all you could do was nod, feeling pathetic and dizzy. he followed you to your room, watching with hungry eyes as you locked the door behind you. he sat on your bed, eyes softening as you joined him. “i don’t..” he hesitated as your hands found the bottom of his sweatshirt, “please don’t turn away…” your heart caught in your throat as he pulled his shirt over his head, hands gently placed over your own. your eyes dropped, shamelessly, to his ridiculous and dangerous abs. “turned off?” bob almost laughed, “i didn’t say turned off,” his shirt still lay around his neck, arms still in the sleeves, “that’s not what i was talking about…” you held your breath as he pulled his shirt over his head, pulling his arms out of the sleeves. you were still admiring his abs when his arm came to rest against you. your breath caught, choking on the air in your nose, “bob-“ “no…” his voice was quiet, he was no longer meeting your eyes, “please don’t treat me different now. you always call me robert. call me robert…” your eyes followed the numerous lines on his arms, not hearing him as tears filled your eyes. “bob, i-“ he was looking at you, guilty, broken, embarrassed, “please don’t treat me differently, i- they’re old.. most of them are old, they- i haven’t in a long time-“ you were already crying though, not sure how he could expect you not to react at all. to this. to him doing this. “i’m-“

“i’m sorry. i should have warned you, i-“

“why are you sorry?” your voice was flat, void of the usual softness it held towards him, shaking slightly, “why are you apologizing? i- i’m sorry you ever thought- i’m sorry it was bad enough that you-“ bob was looking at you again, still guilty, still trying to hold up his walls for you. you squeezed both his hands, trying to get the tears to stop, “if i had been there-“ bob actually laughed then, “you would have hated me back then.” he tilted your head up to look at him, “god knows i did…” you wiped at your eyes, hating that he was once again seeing you cry, but happy it was at least over him this time, “you promise you’ve stopped? completely?” bob nodded, looking at you shamefully, “i’m better now….. i- i didn’t want you to find out like this. i’m sorry. i didn’t think you would ever see them…”

you bit your lip, stroking his arms with the softest touch, “i’m sorry you thought you deserved this. you didn’t. no matter what you did.” bob’s eyes were on your face, even as your own traced up and down his arms, as your fingers ran gently along the uneven skin. bob was holding his breath, truly feeling like he could cry; knowing he had never felt such a gentle touch- especially on the darkest, most gruesome scars of his past. “i think i’m in love with you.”

you nearly tumbled right off the bed. you were sure your face reflected your shock, but hopefully not the way you were currently fighting for air. “you don’t have to say it back. i don’t even know what that means, really. i’ve never felt it before. not towards me, or directed at someone else… but i know how i feel when i’m with you. and how you make me feel. safe… happy, normal.. like i’m not a freak, or a screw up, or a total loser, or a burden… just.. that i’m me. something i’ve never really felt in a positive way. not really. but when you look at me… or laugh at something i say… being me isn’t…the worst thing ever.”

shit, now you were crying. how could he say those things to you and mean it? he knew what you had done… he knew what you were. what you had trained to be… “robert.” his soft eyes met yours and the look behind them made you nearly break, “i don’t deserve your love. i don’t care what your past was like. you are good. you are the best person i’ve ever met but, i-“ “bullshit.” bob was in front of you again, “absolute bullshit. i don’t want to hear that again. if you can see the good in me, then why the hell shouldn’t you deserve love and second chance when the two times you weren’t perfect were accidents?” damn. he had a point. but still- he was bob. you would never hold yourself to the same standard of the man you loved. “that’s the problem,” he was smiling just slightly, a playful smirk on his lips, “is that you will never see yourself as i do. and you will never see myself the way i do.” oh, damn him and that mind reading ability. “look at me.” you did, shamefully, embarrassed, guilty, “everyone i get close to dies. or i push them away before they can get too close…” bob squeezed your hand, “lucky for you, i can’t die. or even be injured. and i have been told that i am extremely annoying and clingy. so good luck with that other part.” you almost laughed, wiping at the tears in your eyes. bob let go of your hand, exhaling, “you don’t have to say anything back. i’m not expecting anything. i don’t need anything to change between us… as long as we can still be friends and-“ he stood up, a soft but sad smile on his lips, “please just don’t push me away. i’m sorry. i’ll give you time. i’ll go… just… please don’t push me away.”

you grabbed onto his wrist, stopping him before he could walk away. your mind had acted before you were caught up with the plan. bob looked at you wide eyed, eyes slowly moving to your interlocked hands. his skin was hot, always much too hot to the touch, always much more hot than the average person. he looked to you again, hopeful, expectant. say something, stupid. say something before he walks out, or before he starts another anxious rambling. what if you said something stupid and hurtful again? you tugged on his arm so quickly and suddenly that bob stumbled against you. his eye’s widened as he landed directly in your lap, stumbling over apologies as he struggled to get off you. your arms wrapped around his waist, tightly, holding him against you. bob’s breath caught, tensing against your touch. you pulled him in by the hair before he could mutter one more apology.

his breath hitched, inhaling shakily against your lips. he closed his eyes as he reciprocated, hotter, heavier, with even more passion. your own heart jumped, skipping entirely too fast to be healthy. bob melted into you, his full weight sending you gently against the mattress. his arms wrapped around you tightly, fingers tracing your skin softly beneath your shirt. your heart leapt, breath shaking, silently wondering who lit off fireworks in your stomach. bob pulled you closer against him, lifting your back off the mattress. you could have passed out right then alone, but then his other hand pulled your shirt over your head, as he continued to hold you against him. your head spun. the pair of you let out a sharp breath at the feeling of warm skin against warm skin. the room was spinning as his lips found yours again, messily, desperately. the room buzzed with electricity- or maybe it was just your head struggling to keep up with the rest of you. bob shifted down your jaw, to your neck, to your collarbone. you shifted, swearing that the room was sitting on top of a frisbee that had been thrown. his fingers against your skin sent electric bolts through your skin, heat spreading through you rapidly. his touch was soft and so full of love. his skin against you, comforting, the heat building all the way into your stomach. it was nothing like you had ever felt. it was gentle, careful, protective. nothing like hands that had been on you in the past; forceful, rough. no. you forced the memories down- refusing to ruin the moment. the perfect way he melted against you, the way he held you gently, but firmly. soft, but protective. bob was nearly gasping for air as he broke away from your skin. you would have smirked if you weren’t so pathetically out of breath and worked up yourself. he shook slightly, his eyes glowing a soft golden when he finally looked at you. “i’m sorry-“ he had a stupid smile on his lips, embarrassed, “too much-“ his hands shook and you were sure he was fighting for restraint, pulling himself together, not wanting to lose control. still, you grinned at him, foolishly and exhausted. “i’m sorry, i just-“ you stroked his hair as he collapsed into your chest, breathless and sweaty.

“too much…” he hummed against your skin, completely wrecked without even going further. completely lost to the world as soon as you started playing with his hair. “there’s no hurry.” you would have hated yourself if he did truly feel bad about needing to stop, “we have time.” there would be several nights of messy passion and tangled sheets. right now, all you wanted was to feel his skin against you, warm and soft- and his arms around you, firmly and protective.

“stay here tonight. with me…” it was not a question, but bob answered by pulling you closer to him, nestling your face into his chest, just under his chin. you breathed deeply, inhaling his scent, breathing him in. bob said nothing, breathing deeply, breath still shaky, holding you against him, “i’m all yours.”

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a/n: this took me soooo long oml. im not sure i love all of this, but i wanted to post something and finally finish this since i started it june 7th😵‍💫

#fanfiction #bob reynolds #thunderbolts #thunderbolt!reader #bob reynolds x reader #robert reynolds x reader #sentry fluff #bob reynolds fluff #bob reynolds angst #fluff #fluffy fic #Spotify #voidpvllmanfics

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bcksbarnes · 2 days ago

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time's never been on our side - chapter five

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: you and bucky happen to meet by chance one night, and it feels like there is a spark between the two of you - but he has to leave. was this destiny? or cruel fate?

word count: 3K

read the: previous chapter

How do you miss someone you've barely spent any time with? Someone that up until a few days ago was basically a total stranger.

It was wrong. Forbidden, even.

You didn't think it'd hurt so much when Bucky left, you tried your best to mentally prepare yourself for the fact that it had to end. He had made it very obvious — this was short term.

Although neither of you were prepared for how abrupt the end would be.

When the door closed behind him on the way out of your apartment, all you could do was stare at the white paint in a state of disbelief. You missed him already, and that was truly unfair.

Instead of trying to distract yourself, or even talk yourself out of these feelings, you opt to lay on your bed and nuzzle your face into your pillow, mustering all your strength to not scream, or cry, or both. Your mind is plaguing you with thoughts about how cruel and unusual it was to be ripped apart so soon. It didn't make it hurt less, but a good spiral was what you really needed.

He texted you as soon as he was on the plane:

This is bullshit.

All you could manage to respond with was:

And it's not like Bucky was handling it much better either. He ignored both Steve and Sam's attempts to speak with him when he boarded, opting to read the briefing sheet rather than listen in on Steve's mission overview. Though it didn't help much because he kept reading the words over and over again — they wouldn't stick in his brain, all he could think about was you and what he was leaving behind.

Bucky loved what he did and more importantly he loved the people he did it with. Being able to save the world, to feel like he's accomplished something other than mass destruction was a win in his eyes, but he kept having this recurring feeling that maybe his time in this field had run its course.

He had spent all of his life fighting, running, hiding. The world always needed to be saved, maybe he didn't have to be the one saving it anymore. You reminded him that life didn't need to be loading guns and counting dead bodies, it could be more.

So much more.

"Steve's about to pop a vein," Sam says, snapping Bucky out of his thoughts as he takes a seat across from him, his elbows resting on his knees as he settles in. "You two need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," Bucky mutters.

"I said this weeks ago when we were in Budapest. You can't continue being miserable because Steve wants to keep going."

"I don't want to talk about it, Sam."

There's a tiredness in his voice that lets the other man know he's serious, that right now he truly doesn't want to be bothered. He wants to stare out of the window of the plane, look at the clouds below him, and be angry at the world.

Was that too much to ask for?

"I know you don't, but you know I'm right," Sam says, receiving a look from Bucky that was less than kind. "Listen, maybe you don't want to talk about it now, and maybe Steve is refusing to come to terms with the fact that you're ready to start a new life, but just know that if you don’t talk — it won't end well. For either of you. You need to ask yourself if whoever you just left behind tonight is your path forward."

Bucky keeps his gaze towards the window, his jaw set as he could feel his pulse quicken, his metal hand curling into a fist as it rests on his knee. He watches in his peripheral vision as his friend stands and walks to the other side of the jet, leaving Bucky alone with his dark, depressing thoughts.

When the jet had finally lands in Lagos it was go-time. Bucky put on a brave face, as he normally did, and found Sam and Steve – ready to jump into action.

The mission was not as easy as everyone hoped it would be. It was a repetitive mess that led the team down too many twists and turns, and each day they inched further and further away from when it would end.

Three weeks turned into six, which was now looking more like eight.

What a fucking nightmare.

The only thing keeping either of you sane was the nights when Bucky finally got back to his hotel room, closing and locking the door for his privacy, and took his phone out to dial your number.

Tonight was especially hard on Bucky, they had somehow missed the signs of an ambush. Everyone on the team was badly hurt, he even took a few extra blows than what he was used to.

Not their greatest moment.

"Hello?" you rasp into the phone, immediately pulling Bucky out of his thoughts. He's startled by how tired you sound, and when he checks the time he understands why.

"Shit, sorry. I didn't realize it was so late."

"It's fine. Did you just get back?" you ask, a yawn leaving your lips slightly muffling your words.

"Yeah, it was a long day."

Bucky didn’t even bother to turn on the lights as he made his way towards his bed, his back hitting the mattress with a thud as he stared up at the ceiling. He tries to clear his mind of the sounds of gunshots and screams. As he’s grown older and further away from his days as the Winter Soldier it was easier to compartmentalize, but that didn't mean it didn't haunt him. So, he closes his eyes as he tries to picture your face instead, maybe then the bad thoughts will go away.

"You should go back to sleep," he insists, although deep down he doesn't mean it. Selfishly he wants you all to himself, despite how late it was. His stomach sinks at even the idea of hanging up.

"I'm fine," you reiterate, trying to hold back another yawn as you rub your eye with the palm of your hand. "I've been waiting all day to talk to you, what's missing a few hours of sleep anyway?"

"You're so stubborn."

"Oh, I can hang up if you really want me to."

"No," he responds, maybe a little too quickly. His hand moves under his shirt as he scratches his stomach gently. "Not yet."

Truthfully he wants to tell you he misses you, but the word is so profound and he's not even sure he's ever said it before. That scares him. What Bucky is unaware of is how the word is also on the tip of your tongue, just threatening to roll off at any moment.

An ocean apart, only connected by this nightly phone call, and neither of you could really say what you truly wanted.

"That's what I thought, Barnes."

You smile to yourself as you flip over onto your side, bringing your blanket up to your chin as you get cozy in the bed. Maybe one day Bucky could join you.

Maybe.

"What did you do today?" he asks. It's sincere in the way that he truly wants to know what you did, but part of him wants his mind to stop, your voice seems to be the only thing to bring him back down to Earth.

"I brought Alpine to the vet, then did some grocery shopping. Nothing really too exciting."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah, routine check up. She hates when they do the exam so most of the time I was trying to wrangle her while she hissed at all the nurses."

Bucky lets out a scoff at the thought, his eyes finally opening once more. The once dark room was starting to let light in, the sun starting to peek through the horizon of the early mornings.

"She's feisty. I wonder where she learned that from."

"I'm not sure what you're implying," you say, innocently.

"Mm, I'm sure you don't."

"Watch it, Buck."

"There it is," he teases, switching his phone to press against his other ear. "I knew I wasn't making it up."

"Shut up." You bite down on your bottom lip, your heart beating rapidly in your chest at his teasing. You feel like you were a teenager with a stupid crush that wouldn't go away.

A long silence passes between the two of you, and your eyelids grow a bit heavy from the darkness of the night — you knew sleep would be in your future soon, but you weren’t ready to let this moment go just yet.

Bucky definitely wasn't.

"I wish you were here," he whispers into the phone, clutching on it so hard that he's sure it might break. "Or that I was there, either way."

"Me too," you nod, even if he can't see it. "When you get back we should go back to that restaurant we liked."

"Which one?"

"You know with that spaghetti dish we liked? The one you spilled your drink on yourself?"

Bucky chuckles at the memory. He remembers missing his mouth when he went to take a sip because he was mesmerized by the way you looked. There wasn't even a way for him to recover from it, he mumbled some curse words under his breath as he tried to clean up the giant stain that was on his shirt and not focus on your hands reaching over to help him.

"Yeah, that place," he responds. "Sounds good to me."

"When will you be back?"

"I'm not sure."

"Soon?"

"Soon," he promises.

Your heart leaps even as the exhaustion overcomes you, clutching your phone a bit tighter — unaware that Bucky had done the same on his end. Some more soft whispers are exchanged between the two of you before you end up falling asleep on the line. Bucky hears the sound of your soft, even breathing through the speaker and it fills him with warmth. He hesitates and wages an internal war before he finally ends the call and readies himself for bed, despite the sun rising in the distance.

The next morning, well afternoon, is rough for Bucky who is now lacking sleep and is desperately itching to get back home. He checks his phone immediately, a bad habit he's now picked up, and instead of finding a text from you sees a few missed calls from Steve.

Will be there in 20, just getting up.

He texts his friend before rolling out of bed to start another (he’s assuming) long day.

One shower, one disgustingly bitter cup of coffee and twenty minutes later Bucky finds Steve in a hotel room now make-shift control room a few floors above his own.

"Hey," Steve nods his chin in Bucky’s direction. He was the only person in the room, sitting down on a desk chair that seemed way too small for a man so large, it was jarring.

"Hey," Bucky nods back, closing the door to the room behind him. "What's up?"

"We'll be here for another two weeks," Steve responds without any hesitation, straightening up his back as he sits in the chair. "Sam got a lead on another base about 50 miles outside the city. The teams working on a way to get in, apparently our system hasn't been picking it up since they're using some advanced technology to try and hide it in plain sight."

Bucky stands a few feet in front of Steve, his arms crossed over his chest, his brows furrowing.

"Two more weeks? We've been here for a while, Steve, there's no way this should be taking this long."

"Unless you want a lot of innocent people to get hurt, Buck, we're not rushing this. Red Wing did a diagnostic scan of the facility and there's a lot of hostages, just like the one a few days ago. It's a pattern."

There's no response from Bucky as he averts his gaze for a moment, feeling the irritation rise in his chest. He knows this is the moment that Sam wanted for the two of them; Bucky to finally admit his feelings and tell Steve that he's at the end of his days.

All he can think of is the people inside the facility who are waiting for someone to save them — he could save them.

All he knows is guilt.

"Will that be a problem?" Steve challenges, standing up so the two are eye level. Tension filling the air that took Bucky by surprise, straightening his own posture.

"Listen, Steve…"

"What, Buck? You want to quit?"

"What? I didn't say that," he defends himself. "Can you let me speak?"

"Go ahead."

"Thanks," he eyes Steve before taking a step back to create some distance between each other. There's so much going through Bucky's head at the moment he doesn't even know where to begin. "This has been a lot lately. We've been non-stop and it's been tiring. Taking some time off has made me … realize that maybe I'm not looking to do this forever."

Steve watches carefully, his jaw tightening as he listens, Bucky speaks again.

"I want a normal life."

"A normal life?" Steve scoffs in response. "Don't you think we all want that? We gave that up a long time ago, buddy."

"I know," Bucky snaps back through gritted teeth. "I'm fully aware of that."

"So you do want to quit, like I said."

"You make it sound like I have a choice."

"You do have a choice," Steve takes a step forward and minimizes the space that Bucky created. "You're either in, or you're out, Buck. There's no in between, there's no happy endings."

"What if I don't want to be ‘in’ anymore? I'm not quitting, I've done my time. I've done time that I should never even been sentenced to, a life that I didn't get to pick."

"Not all of us have a choice."

"You did," Bucky snaps back. "You wanted this. You knew when you took that serum it meant you were going from a scrawny kid from Brooklyn to a hero. I wanted to punch a few Nazi's and come home. Start a family. Meet someone. I didn't get to pick my life, someone else did for me."

"And what? You've found someone and suddenly you want to pick up the only life you know and throw it away? People are counting on you, they're counting on us."

"Don't pull that shit with me, Steve," Bucky raises his voice.

"Pull what? Your head out of your ass? Do you think I don't know that something's going on?" Steve raises his own back. "Who is it?"

Bucky feels like he should come clean, but a voice in the back of his mind is telling him that it'd be a bad idea. What were you and Bucky besides two friends who have only really spent a few weeks together? Would it even be worth mentioning to Steve? What if this blew up in his face? He couldn't tie this need to move on in his life back to you.

Not now, anyway.

"No one," Bucky says, keeping his expression neutral. "There's no one. I'm just tired."

"We're all tired, we all want to be done, but there's always something else. Something we can't run away from." Steve lifts his hand to clap Bucky's shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze and shaking the man slightly. "We can't stop even if we want to."

And just like that it all came tumbling down.

Bucky would never be free from this life.

"I can give you some more time off after this mission, but we need you back here. I need you back here." Steve gives his shoulder another reassuring squeeze, though it does nothing to calm the unease in his stomach.

Bucky averts his gaze, trying his best to not let his emotions settle to the surface.

Not here, not now.

He gives Steve some vague mumbled response that he doesn't remember and the two pretend like the conversation never happened. Even if there's a giant knot in his stomach and his brain is a little hazed as Steve jumps right back into the tactical part of the mission, it never happened.

Sam and the rest of the crew join them a few minutes later, and before he knows it they are off on another night of looking for hostages and fights he didn’t want to be in. If his heart wasn't in it before, it definitely wasn't in it now. Two more weeks and he had a break again, that's what Steve had told him — he hoped he’d follow through on his promise.

"He means well," Sam says hours later as the two of them enter the elevator of the hotel. Sam takes the liberty of pressing the buttons of both of their floors. They are covered in blood — Bucky had failed to stop a grenade that had been fired at too close of a range, they were both lucky they were still alive. His mind was elsewhere tonight.

Bucky gulps and keeps his eyes averted, biting down on his tongue as he holds back what little dignity he has in that moment. He was only a few feet away from his room, and, more importantly, only a few seconds from calling you.

The elevator chimed and Bucky stepped out, tossing his head over his shoulder as he gave Sam one final look.

"He doesn't," he says, watching as the elevator doors shut, leaving him alone once again.

Bucky's feet carry him to his room, and soon he flops down on his bed as a part of his nightly routine, but this time when he reaches for his phone in his pocket his hands shake. He had never felt so vulnerable in his life.

It rings only once before you pick up.

"Hey," you say, it’s late but with the time difference and how long Bucky’s days were, it always was when he called.

"Hey," he whispers back, his head turning to the side as he stares at the wall, studying the patterns on the wallpaper.

"What's wrong?"

Bucky bites down on his bottom lip, holding back emotions he tried never to reckon with: sadness, loneliness, wanting.

"I just needed to hear your voice."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #i know like 5 people read this story but im determined to update it

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woozisprincess · 9 hours ago

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Seventeen's reaction to you wanting to run through the entire group

You want to run through the Seventeen members like you're on the track team.

Seventeen x Fem Reader

Super suggestive, entirely talk about sex, Soonyoung wants a threesome, they are all dtf, it's the same scenario but if each member were the first to find out, reader gets called a slut (lovingly), unedited bs

Seungcheol

"Really?" He looks at you with a raised brow. Not what he was expecting when he asked if you had a crush on any of them. Was hoping you'd say him, but he supposes this can work in his favor. He leaned close to you, grabbing by the waist. "Well, you could always start with me." And if he got his way, you won't even think about the others once he's done. You thought a night with the leader was a great way to kick off your excursions.

Jeonghan

All of them? Not that he was judging. Just sounded like a lot of effort. Also Cheol's really possessive, the maknae doesn't like to share either, and Soonyoung is such a brag. So many things to consider, and work around. Sounds like more effort than it's worth. But then again... Sense you're offering. "I don't know about those other guys, but I can promise you won't regret a night with me."

Shua

Well that's... Not information that he asked for, but go off. "Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart." Dumb response. What does that even mean? Truthfully, out of everyone you did not mean to tell Joshua. Sweet, gentle Joshua. You apologize for your poor manners. Joshua thought for a moment. "Well I'm not exactly a perfect gentleman all the time." He smiled at you. Sum bout' how he said it. Did that mean what you thought it meant?

Junhui

"Damn, girl!" The reaction was automatic. "Like the whole team!?" You confirmed. After the initial shock Jun actually could not care less, just another thing about you that he probably shouldn't know, but you told him regardless. "Well... Shit," he muttered, "let me know when it's my turn." He might not care all that much, but he's not fucking stupid. If a bad bitch wants him, a bad bitch wants him.

Soonyoung

"Oh bet!? Can I go first!?" That's it. He jumps at the opportunity laid out before him, does not give a fuck that his band mates also take up space in your mind. Was actually weirdly into the fact that you wanted them all. Would you have two of them at once? That'd be so hot. Is giddy when you agreed to let him go first as long as he bought you dinner first. Told the whole group he hit. However, was a real one and did not tell them that they were potentially next.

Wonu

Oh? Okay then? You didn't even say it directly, but from how you were literally growling when talking about each member during the performance? Yeah you wanted that cookie, you wanted the whole fucking box of cookies. The bakers dozen, if you will. "Someone's libido is fucked." He mentioned, casually. You went flush after realizing how fucking feral you were acting. "Hey, you want what you want. I want you too, if that makes you feel any better." It did. It made you feel a lot better.

Jihoon

Could you even do that? Like that's a lot of dudes. Your body would need breaks, surely. He had no clue why he was focusing on the logistics so much, but he knew proper protection was a must. "Make sure they all wear condoms, don't get distracted." Solid piece of advice, but not the response you were expecting. Jihoon then showed you that he was ready for you anywhere and anytime by opening a random drawer in his studio, revealing a box of condoms. Extra large. Oh my god. You 100% put those condoms to use.

Dokyeom

"Sorry? What? Sorry?" He short circuited. You patted his shoulder and apologized. "Nononononono." You shouldn't apologize, it's your body! Oh, for freaking him out? No he's not freaking out... He's a grown man, perfectly capable of listening to a beautiful woman's sexual desires, especially if he's a part of them. "I just-" he sputters. "Me too?" Yes? Oh. So nice of you. Very generous. "Thank you." Adorable. You couldn't wait to ravage him.

Mingyu

Big softie, immediately asked to take you out for dinner. You grin at the prospect of princess treatment. And boy was he generous. Most selfless lover you've ever had. And the date itself was magical, he pulled out all the romantic stops. Truly, that night you didn't just fuck, Kim Mingyu, you made love to him. Definitely happening again... After you make your rounds though. Mingyu completely forgot you wanted to fuck the team. Was chill about it though. Very happy you had plans to return to him.

Minghao

"What do you mean by that?" You looked at him like he was stupid, confirming his suspicions. Another one you didn't actually tell, it just slipped out. While watching them practice, you pointed out Jihoon and Hoshi, started singing that two bad bitches song. Then muttered 'actually, all these bad bitches.' Minghao's interest was piqued. Really, the last person you wanted to tell was Hao, he could be awful... Judgey. But he was surprisingly very open minded. You supposed it wasn't that out of character. "So is this like a mission, or a fantasy?" Mission? Cool. "I'm very in support of women taking control of their sexuality's." Aka, 'I'm down to fuck.'

Seungkwan

"Slut." Automatic. Not a single regret. To be fair, he was calling you that already. You couldn't argue with him either. This would be the sluttiest thing you've ever attempted. Seungkwan was so proud. "You know you're gonna have to amp it up if you wanna pull the whole team, right?" Told you what to wear for who, how to act around who. Made you a slide show full of info, though, he gave you no info on himself. But then he finished his lecture and said. "And about the sex part, can't be a good slut unless you've had some proper experience." His voice was low when he spoke. And you had complete faith that Boo Seungkwan could make the best slut.

Vernon

"baller." He meant that shit too. High-key a power move. He's sure you'd have them all whipped in no time. And some of them liked to fucking spend! Not only could you have dick whenever you wanted, and also multiple lovers for different moods, but dinner dates, lunch dates, cuddle seshes, shoes, purses, nails, hair, Lego sets! Whatever you wanted! The world was your oyster! Vernon's always liked a woman who knows what she wants. "Question. Can you choke me?" The answer was yes.

Dino

"Reaaallllyyyy?" Chan wasn't judging. Okay he was judging a little bit, but just because it was his hyungs. "They're all so... Bleh." Like sure they were attractive and talented, but they were also his hyungs. He just didn't get it. What did they have that he didn't? Well a few of them are really buff... Some of them have quite the way with words... And Hoshi and Jeonghan were charismatic... So maybe they had a lot. But still, they're his hyungs!!! "Don't even bother with those guys, I'm sure once we're done you won't even want them." Only one way to find out.

(⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡

A/N: I want to run through svt like I'm on the track team. I really like Kwan's, like yes, training ark. Jihoon said wrap it losers!!!

Anyways, if you liked this pls talk to me about it, I'd love to hear your thoughts. Comments or reblogs appreciated.

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phantomchick · 2 days ago

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

Jason Todd/Batfamily/DC Comics

Ye Who Enters Here by Wisetypewriter

Trips to hellish dimension are, well, not routine per say, but they have lost their edges after the tenth Titans mission. Even the invasion that triggered the need for an incursion in the inflamed realms would ultimately another day for Nightwing and his team, if not for the trial. Confess your biggest regret truthfully. Heroes have plenty to regret, but to share it is another matter entirely. And it just so happened that Dick's little brother had joined them for the ride. Or, the Red Hood’s regrets are about death, but not in the way Nightwing hoped.

Field Notes by SalParadiseLost

short stories in a demon au.

One Rule by Wisetypewriter

A promise. An oath. And a threat. Batman does not kill. Nor do his allies. Even if he has to personally ensure that they don't. Or, a dead pimp found in Crime Alley leads to Batman and Ma Gunn meeting again for the first time in years.

If all the soul-and-body scars by GavotteAndGigue

The Bat family is left reeling after Jason succeeds in taking his own life. Bruce struggles through grief as he grapples with more questions than answers. Then, over a year later, Jason is found miraculously alive inside his tomb. But Jason’s mysterious resurrection isn't the simple blessing it appears to be. For Jason, nothing has changed since the day he died for a second time, and he's still hell bent on ending himself for good. Bruce desperately searches for answers as he contends with how to keep his violently suicidal assassin-trained son from taking his own life once more.

Let the Night be Dark for All of Me by GavotteAndGigue

Jason Todd and Talia al Ghul have a complicated relationship, to say the least. They've drifted apart and had little contact ever since Jason's reconciled with the Bats. However, one night after a disagreement with his family, Jason reaches out to Talia as a last resort to help him travel across the globe undetected. Why does Jason trust her even after their history of manipulation and lies? And does Talia still have enough affection in her heart to save Jason's life once more, or will she shepherd him to his doom?

Mine by Covenyt2950

But with all the bad luck he'd been having, he should've known he wasn't ready for the sheer terror that took over his body when the driver's window rolled down, showing the face of one of the most dangerous men in Gotham. Oh shit There it was, Richard Grayson-Wayne. Nightwing. Personal executioner, right-hand man, and dear son of Gotham’s most infamous crime boss: the Bat. Or Jason is a young prostitute who's just trying to take care of his little brother. Until one night he meets one of the Bats and has to struggle to survive and run away with Tim. Or so he thinks.

Flatline by dragonpyre

Jason's an idiot. A fucking idiot. He thought he could take some goons no problem, and now he's stuck on a warehouse floor with next to no heartbeat and his family crying over his "corpse". How the hell is he gonna fix this?

The Extremely True Story of the Titans Tower Attack by Wisetypewriter

Red Hood, evil, evil bastard, decides to murderize Robin. Yeah, right.

Lazy Sunday by foxglovefriar

Shipfic nsfw

Jason Todd does not have a boyfriend. He has a dom, because vulnerability is for chumps and Jason's playing it to win. It doesn't matter that Foley likes picking soft clothes for him, or eating breakfast together, or sharing chores— look, he's only here to get hypnotized straight out of his trauma-induced cycle of self-punishment, okay?? The blow jobs are just necessary to hit that end goal! That's all!

Two Robins in the Hand by MeiliSheep

While on patrol, Jason and Dick are both turned into their 13-year-old selves. To Everyone's surprise, Two Robins get along. Specially when both realize there is something the others aren't telling them. And if Batman doesn't have Robin's back, well, another Robin will just have to do. Specially if the Robins look so alike.

Thunder Screaming in the Sky by Ellegrine

Dick stares at the dirt with horror, the taste of stomach acid thick on his tongue. No, it’s not possible. He’s hearing things. He’s hallucinating. There’s no way in hell that Bruce buried Jason alive.

Kyle Rayner's Complete Guide to getting a Malewife by MeiliSheep

Kyle stumbles his way into getting himself a male wife.

Little bird by ittybittypenguins

During Dick's visit at Jason's apartment, some things are said. All while working together to get past an impossible boss in a level where Jason had been stuck on for weeks now. He didn't expect to have such a genuine good time with the older.

HOPE THE LOVE WE SHARED CAN RESURRECT THE LAST. by orpheusaki

"I would never be mad at you for this," Bruce tells him clearly, leaving no room for misunderstanding, blue eyes sharp and clear as they meet Jason's steadily, "I think you know this Jason, deep down. You know I would never blame you for any of this." Jason's heart is tight, "I'm —" Bruce places both hands on his shoulders, "Don't apologise. Just breathe with me." Jason takes a deep breath in, matching Bruce's unshakeable calmness. It's the first time in a long time that Jason feels like he can actually breathe. (Jason survives Ethiopia and returns home; this is the beginning.)

king of the lost boys by noharlembeat

This fic says Dickjay but nothing happens so you can ignore it and read it as platonic if you want. It's very very good and I love how it handled the ableism angst.

The clock stops and Jason closes his eyes. He wakes up at the manor. ~~~ or: Jason Todd lives, and how that changes things.

and when I wake up, let me be by forgotten_daydreamer

« Jason is used to his body and mind going numb, he’s used to his breath hitching, to his heartbeat slowing down so drastically that he sometimes finds himself sprawled on the freezing tiles, clutching the shirt drenched in cold sweat that’s plastered to his chest, just above his heart, mouth gaping as he regains feeling in his body. “Fine. Just一” he swallows, throat dry, “I’m only staying one night. I’m leaving at dawn.” » Jason reluctantly spends a night at the Manor, omitting some crucial information regarding the Lazarus Pit side effects.

Phone Alarms by quotidian_void

"Just imagine Jason recording Batman angrily yelling "Nightwing!" then setting it as the sound of Dick's phone alarm so in the next morning when it goes off he flips the fuck out"

Naruto

denizens of the sands of time by CherShare

Happy accidents were less rare than they used to be, even if they still had a trend of making things worse before they got better. Gaara would take what he could get.

The Milieu by funkmasterjo

Aka a series of oneshots written after gaiden but before boruto came out, a fun take on a good-at-his-job hokage Naruto.

POST SHIPPUDEN. Set after ch 1 of Naruto Gaiden: The seventh Hokage, though prior knowledge isn't really neccessary. Just some talks. Just life. A milieu.

Harry Potter/HP/Fuck JK Rowling

Letters by Morning Lilies

In the final months of the war, Harry entrusted Ron with a bundle of parchments marked 'just in case'. More than seventeen years later, Teddy accidentally unroots a bit of the past. But once he starts reading, he can't stop.

Cocktail Time by the real snape

Not many people know that Rita Skeeter and Gilderoy Lockhart were flatmates once. He invited her to parties, she Transfigured his clothes, they stole each other's hair products rampantly. And now Rita Skeeter has written the full, true, frank, and delicious account of the years they spent together. Don't miss Rita's Latest Blockbuster!

Geminio by Portus

Have you ever thought "It's kind of strange that such a competent and hyper-vigilant veteran auror went down so quickly offscreen in HP." This fic might help you understand. This story has everything: Mad-eye Moody waking up and murdering his way through death eater after death eater, a time loop, a tragic backstory, a perfect title, it's a self-contained oneshot that does SO MUCH in so little time, incredibly satisfying. The tale of Alastor Moody's last day on earth, from his point of view. Followers of the Dark Lord beware! or Some things never change, no matter a past which no longer sleeps. This is a lesson Alastor Moody must learn first-hand.

If we can't find where we belong, we'll have to make it on our own by Biromantic_Nerd

Neville's shoulders hunch further. It's not just his hands that are shaking now; his entire body trembles. It's not fair. And, when push comes to shove, Harry always has been a Gryffindor through and through. (AKA sometimes it's easier to be compartmentalize your own abuse than someone else's; life isn't fair to Harry but that doesn't mean he'll allow life to be unfair to his friends)

#fic rec list #jason todd fic recs #jason todd #red hood #robin 2 #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #nightwing #batfam #batfamily #dc comics #jaybin #weekly fic round up #naruto fic recs #harry potter fic recs #naruto #uzumaki naruto

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mrecury42 · 3 days ago

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@werewolfadmirer here ya go! it's currently one in the morning but i wanted to get this done :) (it's probably not great but who cares)

HOW TO KISS EVERYONE IN YOUR FRIEND GROUP AND GET AWAY WITH IT

First year, they didn't care about kissing in the slightest. All James and Sirius wanted was to have fun, all Remus wanted was "some fucking quiet!", and all Peter wanted was for Remus to stop swearing so much.

Sure, Marlene, Lily, and Mary were all right, and Bellatrix threatened to hex Sirius into next week when they passed her in the corridor sometimes, but there was never any talk of snogging. There was no talk of fancying one another, no initials carved into tree trunks inside crude hearts.

Second year, things got a little bit different. They still had each other, and they had sworn that they would always have each other. But other things started happening in second year at Hogwarts. James and Sirius could practically read each other's minds by that point, and Peter had discovered chess.

All of this left Remus feeling sort of outside. He didn't have anyone- or anything, really- to rely on like that, and one night, that all came spilling out.

It was after the first big Quidditch match with Slytherin, because, well, of course it was. Gryffindor had won. Sirius and James spent the evening celebrating, clinging onto each other excitedly, stuffing their faces with sausage roll after sausage roll. And while he wasn't on the team, Peter was glowing with excitement too.

It was past midnight when the four of them finally went to their dorm, three of them buzzing with joy and the fourth a sulky mess.

"Oh, c'mon, what's the matter with you?" Sirius asked cheerily, ruffling Remus's hair.

"Fuck off, Pads," He growled in response. Sirius opened his mouth to snap something back, more than ready to bicker with Remus again, when James stepped in, calmly instructing Sirius to fuck off.

"Lupin? Are you ok?" James asked gently, sitting down next to Remus. In the background, Peter and Sirius were having a pillow fight- the point is, they were distracted.

Remus nodded, staring at James's lips and feeling strangely warm. James noticed.

"Want me to take your mind off things?" He asked, voice low and kind and toffee-flavoured and so very James Potter that Remus couldn't help but nod again.

James leaned in, and Remus awkwardly followed suit, resulting in a brief, warm, kiss, that was nothing if not an excellent first kiss. James had forgotten the next morning. It was just a dumb, sweet way to cheer up his friend, right? Remus, however, spent the next few weeks thinking about every little thing James did before it wore off and he went back to his usual, sarcastic self.

Third year, there wasn't much new on the kissing front. The other boys had begun teasing James about the way he acted around Lily.

"Obsession, that's what it is," Sirius said.

"More like infatuation." Was Remus's reply.

"It's bloody Lilymania," Peter scoffed, earning him a mocking "language!" from his chums.

But it was all good fun. Nothing ever really happened there.

Fourth year was Sirius's turn. It was a birthday party- of course. Loud, colourful, cake and presents and far too much regurgitated alcohol for a 14-year-old's birthday.

It all happened very fast. Just an "oi, James, your glasses are fucking adorable, c'mere!", and then lips colliding with his and the sharp sting of something alcoholic.

James remembers breaking away, smiling, crashing back into Sirius's smug mouth. Sirius remembers waking up the next morning, the headache, the thrill of drunkenly kissing his best friend. They kept up like that for two months before agreeing that they were really just meant to be best friends, however fun the snogging was.

That was the start of something, though. All of a sudden, both of them started turning up all over the castle with various girls in various states of undress. Remus shook his head fondly while Sirius recounted his sexual adventures, and Peter listened entusiastically whenever James introduced the group to his new girlfriend.

Fifth year went by in a similar fashion. Lots of girls, plenty of sneaking about. Detentions for all of them. Remus, who had hit a growth spurt that summer, started getting looks too. Well, more looks than usual. He ignored all of them. Peter trailed after the three of them, pretending to be happy in his singleness.

Peter congratulated the two outgoing boys when they told him how far they had gotten with some girl or other. He listened when Remus told him about how pretty Sirius looked under the moonlight, how we would never dare tell him. His heart ached and he laughed. His heart broke watching the boy he liked fall for a hundred different pretty girls and he greeted every one one of them with a charming gap-toothed smile and a "hello".

Sixth year, Peter couldn't take it any more. A rainy morning on the Quidditch field was when he snapped. He was sitting in the stands, umbrella above his head, watching as James showed off and did laps around the field.

"Bet Juliette likes it when you do that," He muttered.

"What's that, Wormy?" James shouted, flying closer to where Peter was sulking. Peter hesitated for a moment, and he wasn't quite sure why he did it, but he decided to tell James everything.

Maybe it was the rain, maybe it was the cold, maybe it was how good James looked in his quidditch robes, but Peter found himself babbling about how he had liked James since forever, and how James was so careless, and how he knew that James had kissed both Remus and Sirius, and how it made him so bloody sad that he'd never be enough-

James cut him off with a kiss.

"Peter, mate-" James said, breaking away and climbing down from his broom. "I don't want you to be sad. I'll break up with Juliette for you if you want."

"Yeah, and then what? Go back to that other skank? I don't care, James, just fuck off, I know we'll only ever be just mates. Sorry."

"We don't have to be just mates, though."

From that day forth, Peter looked at James like the very sun shone from his eyes.

Seventh year, Peter and James were a thing. Seventh year, Remus finally told Sirius how he felt. Seventh year, all James and Sirius wanted was for their respective boyfriends to be happy, all Remus wanted was to see Sirius smile like that, and all Peter wanted was to keep his James safe.

The end??

#remus lupin #peter pettigrew #sirius black #james potter #mwpp #yes this is a reasonable time for me to be awake why do you ask #wolfstar #prongstail

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aosawako · 2 days ago

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Answer

“Feelings that come back

Are feelings that never left.”

Tobio Kageyama

Tobio Kageyama asked you to be his girlfriend in your 3rd year of middle school. It was the most he’d ever let someone in at the time. At the time, he was completely focused on volleyball and unable to let you completely in.

That didn’t mean you didn’t try. You managed to make him more comfortable with you, but you couldn’t change his mindset.

It was sweet at times, other times not so much. You understood him in a way no one else did. Understood why he never depended on anyone and chose to do it himself instead. Though, his independence in volleyball appeared in your relationship with him. Tobio insisted on not telling you anything, not communicating because he believed he didn’t need to.

He believed he could do it himself, forever and always. It started frustrating you, though you never admitted it. Instead, you tried to lightly encourage him to depend on you. At least a little. But he didn’t.

There was only so much a person could take before it became too much. Kageyama would push you away and then it would repeat. All it took was a bad game, someone else acting up, a slight mistake in his game.

Tobio would try, he really did. Though he couldn’t change because of the people around him. They just kept disappointing him over and over. Which lead to him being frustrated around you, shutting you out in the process.

That led to what happened a year ago. You told him how you felt, and he couldn’t answer you. Tobio just stared at you, he wanted to say something but he didn’t know what.

He wasn’t like you, comforting and good with words. You knew what to say to him, how to ease him even at the worst moments. He wasn’t anything like you, he couldn’t give you anything more than an, “Okay.”

It was nearing the end of the school year, a few months before summer. You had told him you wanted him to feel like he could open up with you. That you understood why he didn’t but it tired you how he wouldn’t attempt to communicate, just shut you out.

“I really do like you , Tobio.” You had sighed softly, preparing yourself. “And I’ll be rooting for you, in every way imaginable. Maybe right now isn’t the time for us, and maybe we’ll have a better chance in the future.”

Tobio Kageyama thought about that moment often. More frequently than he liked to admit. He saw you around at Karasuno, staring as you passed.

He thought about what you meant, a better chance in the future? Was his time up yet, or could he still make it?

Kageyama had changed, his team taught him more than he thought they would. He could depend on them, he wasn’t alone on the court anymore. The team irritated him but it was different this time. More for stupid reasons over anything.

Now, all he was missing was…you. He thought he lost feelings for you, but all he did was gain them back. He had grown, and you weren't there. You didn't see the fact he had changed. Tobio wasn't going to avoid communication with you, nor try not to depend on you.

So did you mean it? Would there be a chance to make it right this time?

Sugawara was the first person he asked. Kôshi supported the idea, only if Tobio was ready to be the person for you. He saw the progress and growth in him over the school year.

Then Kageyama asked Hinata before sending the message. If he really should do it, if you would even respond.

Hinata was excited for his friend, saying that if you said you really did like him, you would love him now. He encouraged him to send the message because even if it did go wrong, it's better to fail knowing you tried rather than fail not knowing if it could've worked.

You were walking home from school, chewing at your gum, headphones blasting. The music was cut off by a message being read.

‘From Tobio: I miss you.’

Then your music started up again, and you let it. Not checking your phone once as you walked, millions of thoughts running in your mind.

As soon as you got home you opened it, you saw exactly what you heard. You pondered for a moment, what to say. You had noticed his changes, they were subtle. But he had grown more from who he was.

He was in practice when you had responded. So as soon as it was over, he checked his phone. Relief filled him when he saw your name, a simple message followed but it was exactly what he needed. You reciprocated, you missed him too.

(Click photo if blurry)

His message surprised you to say the least. He was almost outside? The two of you didn't live necessarily far from each other, however it would take some time to get to your house. Was he already heading there before he sent you that?

That didn’t really matter at the moment. You quickly got yourself ready, whatever that meant. After a few minutes, you grabbed a pair of shoes. Putting them on before stepping out.

It was already dark out, but you could still spot him. He was standing in front of your house near the sidewalk. The door clicked close after you pushed it into place.

Kageyama looked back to see you, taking his hands out of his pockets. Rubbing them on his sides, was he nervous?

You approached him, walking down to the street. You were going to say something first but he beat you to it.

The top of his head was visible when he gave you a short bow, “Thank you for coming.”

“Well, I just came out of my house. I should thank you. You ran all this way didn’t you?”

Tobio stared at you, lips parting. “I did but it was nothing.” His head perked when he heard you laugh at him, he missed that.

“Thank you..Tobio. I can still call you that right?” He nodded. It was still new to him, but it was welcomed. His eyes stayed on you, he hadn’t been able to get a good look at you in a while.

“What I told you, I meant it. I do miss you and want to get back together.” Kageyama stumbled on his last words, but you could still see he was attempting to be better for you. “I promise you’ll be a priority and I’ll do my best to communicate. I won’t let you down.”

You smiled, he was so serious about it. He only really ever said something if he meant it. The silence sat for a moment, “Then..I trust you keep your promise. You’ve never let me down before so there really isn’t a need to say-“

Kageyama didn’t mean to cut you off but he couldn't wait. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He stared at you like you created volleyball itself. His ears were pink, followed by his face dusted with blush.

“Yes, I will.” You didn’t hesitate when you said it. Tobio really liked that, more than he would want to admit. You saw him bolt to the corner of the street, you were about to follow. Then he ran back, gently pushing flowers into your hands.

“I hope you like them, thank you again.” He watched you touch the flowers. His hands shoved back into his pockets, they were so sweaty. He didn't want you to see that.

“Thank you Tobio. That’s so sweet, you really didn't have to. Did you keep them over there in case I said no?” He looked away from you sheepishly.

“Maybe.” He looked back feeling your arms wrap around him. His face was so red, he was happy he didn't have any of his teammates around. Especially now that he was hugging you back, yeah. It was better that they weren't there.

Bonus ౨ৎ

Kageyama laid in bed, just about to fall asleep. His phone flashed back on, making him grab it begrudgingly. It was Sugawara.

Practice does pay off.

#kageyama tobio #haikyuu tobio #tobio kageyama x reader #hq x reader #hq fluff #kageyama x reader #hq #haikyuu kageyama

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alarwynnwhispers · 13 hours ago

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🧡 ᴜɴᴘʟᴀɴɴᴇᴅ — ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 39: ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴏʀ ᴏᴘᴇɴꜱ 🧡

ꜰ1 x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀʀɪꜱ ᴀᴜ | ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ + ᴅʀᴀᴍᴀ

⚠️ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:

ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴxɪᴇᴛʏ ᴛɪᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɪɴᴄᴏɴꜱɪꜱᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

ꜱᴜᴅᴅᴇɴ ʜᴀʟᴛ ɪɴ ᴀ ꜱᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴛᴇᴛʜᴇʀ (ɴᴏᴛᴇʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴇɴᴛʀɪᴇꜱ)

ꜱᴜʙᴛʟᴇ ꜱɪɢɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴘʀᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ʀᴜᴍɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ

ʀᴇᴛᴜʀɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴ ᴇꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀ

ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇx ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴅʏɴᴀᴍɪᴄꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ (ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅɪɴɢ ᴄᴜʟᴛᴜʀᴀʟ/ᴄʟᴀꜱꜱ ɴᴜᴀɴᴄᴇ)

ʀᴀᴡ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴇᴀʀ ᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴊᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ

ꜱɪʟᴇɴᴛ ꜰᴏʀɢɪᴠᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴘꜱ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅ ʀᴇᴄᴏɴᴄɪʟɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ-ʀᴇʟᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴠᴜʟɴᴇʀᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ

Qᴜɪᴇᴛ ɪɴᴛɪᴍᴀᴄʏ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴘʜʏꜱɪᴄᴀʟ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟɪᴀʟ ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ

ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴅᴇᴍᴘᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʀᴇᴘᴀɪʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴅᴇꜱᴘɪᴛᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴘᴀɪɴ

The notebook entries stopped on July 7.

(Y/n) noticed the absence immediately. That morning, she sat by the window of her childhood room, one carved from cool marble and colonial wood, where even the ceiling fan creaked with memory. The air smelled like fresh sampaguita. The tea at her side rested on a silver coaster engraved with her family crest.

The previous entry was dated the day before, and it had ended more quietly than usual.

July 7 – I’ve been wondering if you’ll let me read this to you one day. Or maybe you’ll read it aloud to me. Either way, I’ll wait. Even if it takes a lifetime.

She closed the book and looked out at the overcast Singapore sky, heart too heavy to settle. Part of her had grown used to the rhythm, one entry a day, like a heartbeat tethering her to something that still held meaning. When it stopped, she didn’t know whether to feel disappointed or… worried.

She told herself not to overthink.

But then Alaric came in, holding out her phone with an unread notification.

Amara: You might want to check the airport arrivals today.

(Y/n)’s brows furrowed.

And then she saw it.

Lando.

At Changi Airport.

No grand entrance. No bodyguards. No PR team. Just a hoodie pulled low over his head, a suitcase rolling behind him, and tired eyes beneath a McLaren cap. Someone had taken a quick photo. It had already gone viral on Formula 1 fan accounts with captions like:

“LN4 in Singapore?! Is it true what we think it is?” “Is the redemption arc beginning??”

Her hand trembled.

He was here.

She wasn’t ready.

But the twins kicked again, and something in her chest bloomed, painful, warm, electric.

Lando stood outside her family’s home for almost twenty minutes.

He stood beneath the ornate archway, where manicured bougainvillea spilled down white-washed stone. The wrought-iron gates had been left ajar, though the guards at the front knew exactly who he was. They had nodded respectfully but made no move to let him in without permission.

He clutched the notebook tighter.

Sweat clung to his neck, not from the heat, but from nerves. Everything about this house, the scale, the carved capiz shell windows, the polished balete wood floors, reminded him how little he truly knew about the world she came from. She wasn’t just beautiful or kind. She was from legacy. Lineage. Old money and deep roots.

And he’d broken her heart.

But then the door opened.

It wasn’t (Y/n). It was Alaric.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment.

“You flew here?” Alaric asked, arms crossed but not cold.

“I did.”

“You didn’t tell her?”

“No.”

Alaric exhaled and stepped aside. “You better not make her cry again.”

“I don’t plan to.”

Lando stepped inside, removing his shoes at the door. The entrance opened into a grand foyer, oil paintings of ancestors, pearl-inlaid furniture, and a chandelier that looked older than McLaren itself.

Everything smelled like home, lemongrass, ginger, faint traces of baby powder. He swallowed hard.

Her mother peeked from the kitchen, eyebrows rising in disbelief before she slowly nodded once and returned to slicing mangoes. Even her quiet approval felt weighted with centuries of unspoken tradition.

He made his way down the hallway, heartbeat thunderous.

And then he saw her.

(Y/n) stood barefoot in the doorway to her room, wearing one of his old shirts, hands resting protectively over her swollen belly. Her hair was slightly damp, her eyes red-rimmed but clear.

She didn’t speak.

He didn’t either.

He just stepped forward and held out the notebook.

“I didn’t know how to talk to you,” he whispered. “So I wrote. Every day. But nothing on paper compares to hearing you breathe right now.”

She blinked back tears. “Why now?”

“Because I couldn’t take being far anymore. Because I’m still stupid in love with you. Because I want to be here for everything, the kicks, the cravings, the late nights, all of it.”

His voice cracked.

“I don’t care if you slam the door in my face after this. I just needed to try. One last time.”

Silence.

(Y/n) reached out and took the notebook from his hand.

Then, quietly, she stepped aside.

And let him in.

Later that evening, the house felt still.

Lando sat on the floor beside her bed, one hand gently resting against her stomach. He was crying softly, not with regret anymore, but with overwhelming gratitude.

“I missed you,” she said at last.

He looked up, eyes glassy. “I don’t deserve you.”

She smiled through tears. “Then spend the rest of your life proving me wrong.”

He kissed her belly, and the twins kicked again, twice this time.

“I think they missed you too,” she whispered.

The world wouldn’t stop talking. There would still be press, scrutiny, gossip, and doubt.

But here, in this quiet room, beneath a spinning fan and fading sky, there was peace.

There was family.

And there was love.

To be continued... 🧡

🧡 ᴜɴᴘʟᴀɴɴᴇᴅ — ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 40: ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜ ʟɪɴᴇ 🧡

📝 Note from the Author: Sixth post for today, and we’re nearly at the end, Alarwynnites. Can you feel it? That aching, nervous, beautiful stillness before the storm breaks or the sun finally rises?

Today’s chapter is the arrival. The stillness before the door opens. The moment you hold your breath, wondering if love will walk in, or walk away.

Lando came not with flowers, but with pages. With proof. With trembling hands and a whispered plea. And (Y/n)? She let him in, not just into her home, but into a moment they’ll never forget.

If this chapter made your heart pound or your eyes sting, leave a ✈️ or 📓 in the replies. We’re almost home now.

With love, me 🧡

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darkmatilda · 2 hours ago

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𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the weight of distance presses heavier with each passing day, the ache of absence stitched together only by hour-long phone calls like a fragile sutures on a wound that refuses to close. so you choose his birthday — the perfect day to cross the miles in silence and secrecy, and surprise spencer on his special day.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: glasses!reid x baufemale!reader, long distance relationship, early seasons team, so our queen elle is here, lots of team interactions overall, both reader and spencer's pov, height difference, kissing until his glasses fog up xx

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 5k

𝐚/𝐧: literally started writing this over two months ago so i hope the first half doesnt differ too much in quality from the second one :/ the soul who’s the first to catch the tiny subtle mr darcy reference gets a cookie!

You admitted it without a trace of embarrassment – every time you called your long-distance boyfriend, you waited for him to pick up with your forehead almost glued to the screen and your lips frozen in a half-smile, ready to bloom across half your face the moment you saw his face.

Automatically.

The word nonchalance wasn’t foreign to you, but you deeply despised it. You had no intention of pretending it didn’t matter whether he picked up or not, or that you hadn’t rearranged half of your quite busy day for that shared moment. You weren’t going to pretend that hearing his voice meant any less to you than it actually did, just to maintain some kind of image or out of fear of being too much.

No, that definitely wasn’t your case.

If anything, you leaned toward paranoia — that you weren’t doing enough to take care of your relationship stretched across nearly 4000 miles and separated by the Pacific. That you weren’t trying hard enough. You had a set time for one call a day; usually, by then, you were already comfortably tucked under the covers and reporting in for duty (though duty was a very poor comparison—unless we’re talking about the duty of petting small fluffy puppies. yes. kissing the heads of twenty fluffy puppies was almost exactly like your daily call with Spencer).

But that one daily call usually wasn’t the only one. You reached out to each other spontaneously throughout the day, depending on your schedules and the plans of that particular day. On weekends, you watched movies together, he read a book aloud and you exchanged thoughts only when his calm voice reached the end of a chapter, or you played chess online. The bare minimum to fill the void left behind by the distance.

A void that was, however, ravenous—and seemed to deepen with every passing day. It wasn’t a graph line with rises and dips. It kept steadily taking up more and more space inside you.

And that’s how you came to the conclusion that even hundreds of books read aloud by Spencer wouldn’t be enough to dissolve it.

Not when his voice came through a phone speaker.

Not when it wasn’t followed by his breath, tickling your ear.

And that realization pushed you toward a certain…spontaneous decision.

But more on that later.

Your call was finally answered, and a premature, involuntary soft smile curled your lips before his face even appeared on your screen.

“Hey, handsome…” you began with your usual line, fully prepared to relish the blush that would bloom on his cheeks like cupcakes with sweet cherries on top—

but instead of your favorite treat, you were met with something entirely different.

Seeing Derek’s face, clumsily close to the front-facing camera and moving in a way that strongly suggested he was fiercely struggling to keep hold of the phone, snapped you back to attention like an athlete catching their footing.

“Hello, conventionally handsome man, long time no see. Anyway, where’s my handsome man?”

“Morgan, I’m serious, give me—”

“Hey, kid, how many times have I told you women don’t like possessive men? Let me talk to her for a sec…”

“I’m not possessive, I just…”

“You’re right, long time no see,” Derek cut in, completely ignoring his friend—his words, his attempts to wrestle the phone back from his hand. You kept your gaze fixed on the corner of the screen where a part of Spencer’s face occasionally slipped into the frame. Your lips were still curved in a smile, but shifting your focus to Morgan took effort. “What’s up, former-new girl? Don’t look too happy to see me.”

“Oh, I’m very happy to see you. In fact, the sight of you has turned this rainy Amsterdam day well, not exactly sunny, but let’s say we’ve moved from a downpour to a drizzle.”

“You’re welcome—that’s what friends are for. So? You in the mood for a quick chat with me?”

“Morgan.”

“Hmm, gladly,” you replied, tapping your free lip in mock thoughtfulness. “Let me just check my schedule to see when I might be available. How about next Friday?”

“Next Friday?”

“Morgan, I swear—”

“Oh my God, stop torturing them already,” cut in a woman’s voice you recognized instantly, and almost in the same moment, the phone moved from Morgan’s hand to your friend Elle’s.

She gave you a smile—a fleeting one, just a flash of sincerity—before replacing it with her trademark bossy expression. “Another second and they’ll both shrivel up from longing. Here you go.” She handed the phone back to its rightful owner. The first thing you saw were his eyes behind the glasses, aimed at her, full of grateful warmth. “You both owe me one. But since one of you is currently unavailable and clearly unable to repay it, you owe me two favors, Reid.”

A nod.

“Goes without saying.”

You just managed to catch Morgan’s disappointed sigh at having his thoroughly entertaining game cut short, before you found yourself finally, completely one-on-one with your boyfriend.

He was watching the two of them—presumably leaving—until, at last, his gaze shifted to you. That tiny smile of yours finally bloomed into something fuller.

“Okay, I feel like I was interrupted earlier and I need to say this again, properly,” you said before he could get a word out. You took a breath, like you were about to cast a spell. “Good morning, handsome.”

You loved that kind of smile on his lips—the one that came with an involuntary tilt of the head, like its weight shifted evenly and pulled just enough to cause that barely noticeable movement.

“Finally. Good morning, angel.”

It warmed you every single time he used that phrase with you, and you couldn’t help but blink a little faster at the thought of hearing it in person after such a long time apart. But that was still the future, a vision. For now, there was the present, reality.

“Please, tell Morgan I didn’t brush him off because I didn’t want to talk to him,” you said. “But I literally have fifteen minutes before I have to leave and just wanted to call you real quick, because I won’t be very available later. I have a seminar.”

Spencer nodded because, of course, he remembered. But still, his brown eyes clouded slightly.

“You mentioned it. And well, of course I’ll tell Morgan you brushed him off because you didn’t want to talk to him.”

You almost snorted, but held it back.

“Hey, being my boyfriend doesn’t give you permission to use me for your personal revenge.”

“It doesn’t?” he asked with a face of innocence, fake curiosity, like he’d just come across a tiny footnote at the bottom of a page, an unknown piece of information.

“Well, usually no, but there are exceptions to that rule. For example, when the personal revenge might bring satisfaction to both of us. The second is when you ask nicely. Just please, don’t abuse that option.”

“I’ll try, but I can’t make any promises.”

“I’d make you pinky-promise, but that wouldn’t really work in our current situation,” you said, glancing at your own raised pinkie, the corners of your mouth tugging downward.

Then suddenly, they parted, struck by a thought. “Oh, right. I just remembered. What are you planning to do tomorrow?”

Spencer’s brow furrowed slightly.

“The usual, I guess? Go to work…”

“For your birthday, silly.”

This time, it was his lips that parted with a soft, dawning hiss of realization. You looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“Don’t even tell me you forgot your own birthday.”

Spencer shook his head distractedly.

“No, it’s not that I completely forgot. But if you think about it, it wouldn’t be that weird if I had. I don’t have any plans anyway, and it’s just going to be…you know, a totally normal day.”

You watched him for a moment in silence. You rarely faked emotions around him. But this time, you had to summon a thick mask of exaggerated disappointment—couldn’t let even the tiniest flicker of stinging excitement slip through.

“I wish I could be there for you so badly.”

That part didn’t need faking. The sincerity in those words rang clear. You saw your boyfriend’s jaw tighten slightly, and you wished you could reach out and rest your hand against it, letting your thumb brush toward his lips.

The silence that followed suddenly felt especially heavy. You knew Spencer was masking his sadness so you wouldn’t feel bad about not being there. He didn’t expect you to feel guilty—but he anticipated it. And, well, he’d be right. You would feel bad.

You forced a smile onto your lips—only because you wanted to see how, eyes fixed on your face, he’d unconsciously mirror the gesture. You’d learned that trick a long, long time ago.

“I have to run,” you announced with a sigh. “Seriously, I have to run. technically, I should already be out the door.”

“Don’t forget your umbrella.”

“It’s not raining anymore.”

“Yeah, but it’s supposed to start again right around the time you’ll be heading home. And there’s a cold front coming in from the North Sea, so maybe wear something warmer under your coat. I don’t want you getting sick.”

Spencer knew the weather in your city—on another continent—better than you did.

A moment of silence to let that fact settle. Thank you.

“If you’re right, I love you,” you said. “If you’re wrong, I still love you, but I’m also mad I had to lug around an umbrella all day.”

For a fleeting moment, he dipped his head, eyes squinting just slightly, a small smile on his lips.

“I love you too.”

Spencer had never been particularly fond of celebrating his birthday.

To him, birthdays were simply another way of measuring time like years, months, weeks, and days—only a little more brutal. They were like a mirror you woke up in front of one day, a moment of realization and reckoning—not so much with time moving forward, but with everything that had been left behind. The new year reflected what you had achieved and who you had become. Birthdays, on the other hand, felt like a celebration of missed chances, honored with the addition of yet another digit to your age.

Twenty-six. He could’ve done something far more impressive by now—and he didn’t mean that just as self-criticism. He was being objective. At twenty-six, Einstein had his Annus Mirabilis, his miraculous year, the year he developed the theory of mass–energy equivalence. With that knowledge in mind, Spencer had every right to feel a certain pressure.

But beyond all that, that day…he just wasn’t in the mood.

He had just been wondering what to eat for dinner when his phone started ringing.

A long-distance relationship had trained him to reach for it the exact second the ringtone sounded—and to experience that brief flicker of disappointment when the name on the screen wasn’t the one he was hoping for. Just like this time.

“Oh, Reid, how wonderful that you picked up so fast,” came Penelope’s voice on the other end.

“Garcia, hey. Something’s wrong?”

“Yes. I mean—no. I need you to drop by for a moment, is that okay? I mean, even if it’s not okay, it’s still probably better if you come. Not that I’m forcing you, but—ugh, just come over.”

Spencer was standing in his kitchen, phone pressed to his ear, and as her explanation spilled out, a suspicion started blooming in him. He considered himself a fairly perceptive person—and Penelope a very open book. So it was no surprise that, almost immediately, he had a pretty good idea of what was going on. He leaned his lower back against one of the cabinets, folding his free arm across his chest.

“I’m not sure I can make it,” he said despite knowing full well that he could, and that he had the time. But he also knew that, on the other end, Garcia was probably exchanging panicked looks with the rest of the team, arguing about where exactly to hang the balloons in her apartment. And the image was amusing enough to drag out the moment. “For what?”

“I need your help. With something.”

“With what exactly?”

His friend let out something between a hum and a sigh—both thoughtful and panicked.

Meanwhile, Spencer waited patiently, smiling to himself and saying nothing.

“What am I supposed to tell him?!”Penelope’s voice came faintly from the speaker, as if she’d lowered the phone away from her mouth probably thinking that would keep him from hearing. It didn’t.

“I don’t know, make something up!” came a reply Spencer recognized instantly—Derek. A finger snap. “Lightbulb in the bathroom went out.”

“Oh, great! I love when your brain is the same size as your biceps.” She turned her attention back to the phone, voice suddenly loud and confident with her freshly invented excuse “The lightbulb in my bathroom blew.”

Spencer wasn’t about to let it slide that easily.

“What wattage?”

“What?”

“What wattage is the bulb? LED or halogen?”

“Normal. It’s a normal lightbulb, Reid.”

“Are you sure it’s burnt out? Could be a wiring issue. Might be better to call a specialist to take a look. I’d rather not end up electrocuted. Especially on my birthday.”

“Jeez, tell him to stop being such a child.”

Penelope pulled the phone away again.

“I can’t, then he won’t come at all!”

“I have an idea,” Spencer said suddenly, forcing her to scramble back to the call.

“Why don’t you ask Morgan to change it for you, since he’s already there?”

Garcia squeaked in panic. Then immediately broke into a cough, trying to mask the sound.

“There is no Derek Morgan here! Where would you even get that idea?” she squealed in a high voice. At the same time, a distinct snort of laughter echoed in the background. “That? That’s just the TV. Just…some dumb show with an annoying host. Ugh, I should really turn it off…”

The snort that echoed in the background this time didn’t belong to Morgan. It belonged to Elle. A quiet, distant argument broke out between all three of them, and Spencer didn’t understand a single word of it. He cut in at the moment he considered most appropriate.

“I’ll be at your place in 30 minutes.”

Complete silence.

“You’re coming? Seriously? Guys, he says that— I mean, ymm, great! See you!”

Before she hung up, he still managed to hear her deep sigh of relief that the conversation, in which she had to show off her conspiracy skills, was finally over.

Spencer slowly pulled the phone away from his ear, remaining for a moment in the silence that followed. Of course he had intended to show up from the very beginning. He might not have felt excited at the thought of his birthday, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the surprise his friends had put effort into preparing. It wasn’t his dream way of spending the day, but there was a reason that dream scenario remained in the realm of dreams—its realization was simply physically impossible. But a not-so-surprising surprise party ranked high on that list.

He hesitated over what to wear. In the end, his gaze settled on the shirt he'd gotten from no one other than you. You liked how that soft, muted pink color both slightly contrasted with his wardrobe and still somehow fit perfectly into it. You also used to say it brightened his face.

Spencer pulled it on, tied his tie, and sent you a photo. He wanted you to know that even though you were far away, he was still wearing your favorite clothes.mHe didn’t expect you to reply right away.You’d already had the birthday call, during which you gave him wishes you’d been crafting for two weeks. You delivered them at machine-gun speed with all your enthusiasm, then repeated them more slowly so he’d have a chance to actually understand anything.

Your reply came just as he was leaving his apartment.

my boyfriend sending me an outfit check??? never thought I’d live to see that day

He was just turning the key in the lock, the light from his phone casting a glow onto his face, letting the gentle smile on his lips break through the darkness slowly wrapping around the stairwell. He pressed the handle again to check whether being distracted had made him forget to lock it. Then he dropped the key into his pocket and slowly started down the stairs.

Not quite an outfit check. Just tangible or well, virtual, proof that I really like this shirt and I’m not wearing it just because you told me to. The team’s throwing me a surprise party and I figured it’d be perfect…

here his fingers slowed

…it’s your favorite, and in its own not-quite-explainable way, it makes me feel like you’re here.

The reply probably came in before you even finished reading the whole message.

so an outfit check?

wait what kind of surprise party is it if you know about it??

u’re so sweet. also you look so good in that color.

He wanted to text back, to explain how he even knew about this surprise party, but another message came in.

sorry cant really text rn just getting off the tram :( hope u have fun at the party kisses call u later

He was a little surprised, since you usually took the later tram home, but maybe you just had your own reason for coming back earlier. Maybe he’d ask about it later, when the two of you called. Spencer hoped he wouldn’t be too tired after the party to talk to you.

So he replied simply

Got it. Please, be safe.

The way to Penelope’s apartment passed very quickly for him. It occurred to him that he didn’t really know who would even be there. Definitely Morgan, Elle, possibly JJ, but he doubted that everyone had shown up—like, everyone everyone.

And if it turned out he was right, he didn’t intend to be even slightly offended—after all, it was understandable they might’ve wanted to spend the evening in a different way. He knocked on the door and didn’t even call out to come in, even though as he was approaching them, he had clearly heard voices coming from inside, which suddenly, as if by magic, fell silent.

He felt like rolling his eyes—in a positive sense. It was predictable. Of course it was. But it also filled him with a certain warm feeling.

He opened the door and stepped into Garcia’s apartment, heading for the living room. And that’s exactly what he did when he saw the entire team gathered there. He rolled his eyes, though that warm feeling grew stronger and made the decision on its own to stretch his lips into a broad, broader smile when he realized they really were all there.

They were silent, eyes fixed on him, Elle and JJ both holding a tray with a birthday cake with lit candles, but for some reason not bringing it any closer to him.

“Sorry, but I have to say this,” he began. “You’re so predictable.”

“Are we?” came a voice directly behind his back.

He didn’t exactly freeze in place, like he’d been hit with liquid nitrogen. His body transitioned into that state gradually — starting with his shoulder blades instinctively drawing together, long before his mind fully processed the situation or registered that voice.

That voice.

The voice he heard every single day through his phone or laptop speaker, desecrated by the quality of the device — which, even if it were the most cutting-edge machine built by NASA, wouldn’t be able to truly convey the tone of her voice, let alone force him to feel the kind of emotions that now crashed into him like a wave, drowning him.

Water filling his ears.

No, that couldn’t be — they had literally exchanged texts just moments ago!

His eyes locked ahead, all the team’s gazes fixed on him, waiting, expectant. Penelope, her hands tightly clasped together, resting just beneath her chin.

Spencer, not breathing, turned around — and only then drew in a deep, vital breath.

Vital, because he knew he was about to pull her into an embrace so tight neither of them would get a taste of air for a very long time.

Your eyes locked onto each other like two powerful magnets, desperately seeking one another — an instant click. Another instant click when both your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, lifting her feet off the ground. Click when his hands gripped your waist firmly, steadying you. Click when his face found its place in the curve of your neck, burying itself there completely, disappearing, hiding, drawing the curtains so no one else could interrupt this moment.

Click, because you were together.

Spencer drew in a shaky breath, entirely filled with your scent — a scent he seemed to rediscover after months apart — occupying his mind so completely that the words he had intended to say slipped away from him entirely. You took over the role of speaker instead.

“Happy birthday,” you announced tearfully, sniffling and pulling your head away from his shoulder so the tear rolling down your cheek wouldn’t stain his shirt.

The pale pink shirt. Your favorite shirt.

You pouted your bottom lip, trying to hold it together, but you couldn’t. Now that you were finally with him, the full weight of maintaining a long-distance relationship — the weight you had been pushing away to avoid sinking into sadness — crashed down on you all at once. But it was wild, unrestrained, and yet instantly found comfort in his arms, his scent, his presence.

You felt his chest cave slightly as he took in a breath and lifted his head to look at you. In the process, his glasses had been pressed all the way up his nose from where they'd been crushed between your neck and his face — the frames practically touching his eyelids — but neither of you thought about how ridiculous that must've looked.

His eyes immediately locked onto the tear that had slipped from yours. He wanted to wipe it away, but he didn’t want to let go of you either, so he settled for pressing a fleeting kiss to your cheek, brushing it away with his lips instead.

It earned a muffled, quiet laugh from you.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a hushed voice.

You blinked and dipped your head slightly, letting the tears pool without falling, then tilted it back up so you could focus on his face. Immediately, you had the impulse to adjust his glasses, which you did.

“Attending my boyfriend’s surprise birthday party,” you replied, sliding your hand down his chest and rising onto your toes to kiss him — briefly, because you could feel the eyes of all your friends on you, patiently silent and giving you time.

It wasn’t a good idea. The moment your lips brushed his, Spencer froze for a second, only to lean in for more right after. You barely managed to pull away, ignoring his disgruntled hum of protest.

“But I guess I’m the only element of this whole thing that was actually a surprise…”

You shot a meaningful look at Penelope, fully aware Spencer had known about some kind of party happening. The blonde defensively waved her hands in front of her, brushing off the implied accusation.

“Oh, you don’t get it. I let it slip on purpose so your entrance would be more spectacular! Our genius boy thought he had outsmarted our whole plan and then…” she gestured between the two of you, still tangled together.

This time, it was Spencer who shot her a look, full of disbelief at her words and amused pity. And, as it turned out, he wasn’t the only one — well over half of the people present mirrored his reaction.

To shake off all the attention suddenly weighing on her, Penelope snapped her fingers in the direction of Elle and JJ, who were holding the birthday cake.

"Those candles are practically melting! Don’t forget your wish, loverboy."

Your lips twitched the moment you heard that nickname, and you gave Spencer a light, urging pat on the arm still wrapped around you. You could still feel his hand gently tightening around your waist for a fleeting moment before he let go — his fingers performing a subtle flex before falling back to rest — and leaned down over the cake to blow out the candles shaped like the numbers 2 and 6.

He immediately tried to pull you back into his embrace, but you forced yourself to slip away, letting him get swept into the whirlwind of bear hugs from everyone else.

You stayed back, just slightly to the side, knowing you'd have time for just the two of you later. Your gaze lingered on his softly glowing brown eyes behind his glasses and the faint squint from the smile that simply refused to leave his face. The sounds of the room gradually faded away around you.

Surprisingly, you didn’t feel the slightest exhaustion after the long, connecting flights. And even if any fatigue dared creep its way into your body, it was instantly drowned out by what now burned in your chest — that warm, joyful feeling.

“Why did I even stress so much over picking a gift for him?” you heard from your left , Gideon muttering under his breath, but still loud enough for you to catch. He was staring in the same direction. “No matter what I gave him, the only thing he’ll remember from today is you.”

You exchanged a glance with him — the smile lingering only on your lips, but you could tell he shared it.

For the rest of the party, you and Spencer stayed within arm’s reach, always side by side, finally able to allow yourselves that closeness after so many months apart. Even later, as you made your way back to his apartment at night, hauling gift bags and a single box between you, he carried them all on one arm just so he could keep the other wrapped around you.

You clung to his pink shirt, occasionally rising onto your toes to press a kiss to his jaw or a smile, only to pull away again quickly — careful not to crash into a trash can or a lamp post along your path.

Clinging tightly to his side wasn’t exactly making it easier for either of you to walk. But Spencer didn’t complain. Even despite the fact that you were moving at the pace of a drunken turtle.

When his apartment building finally appeared within sight, you tilted your head back for a moment, breathing slower, more consciously.

“Tonight’s stars are so beautiful,” you remarked, staring at the faint, barely visible dots in the sky.

Spencer slowed his steps, lifting his gaze toward the sky, only to fully shift his attention to your face.

“Setting aside the fact that those are the same stars on the same day,” he started, in that scientific yet soft way of speaking of his, “which I’m quite sure you know…no, they’re not beautiful. Look again. You can barely see them.”

“They’re still beautiful,” you insisted.

You were two adults, standing in the middle of the sidewalk, loaded with birthday gift bags, arguing whether or not the stars were beautiful. Spencer stood firmly on the no side of that debate.

“Absolutely not. Artificial light sources in the city generate light pollution, which makes astronomical observation of the night sky difficult. If we were somewhere less urbanized—”

“But we’re here,” you cut in softly, your face still tilted toward the sky. “We’re here together, which makes them beautiful to me. Besides, beauty is a relative concept. Which I’m quite sure you know.”

His quiet sigh, the gesture of surrender. Instead of trying to convince you of something he simply couldn’t convince you of, he just pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Fine, you win, my little relative concept.”

Already on the staircase, your melancholic mood vanished entirely as you pulled him into a kiss he couldn’t escape from. Not that he wanted to, but he had to — if he actually wanted to dig the key out of his pocket and let you both inside. So while your hands clung to the back of his neck, his fumbled through his pockets — the same ones, because he was far too distracted to remember which ones he’d already checked and which he hadn’t.

“Wait—”

“Can’t—”

“Find—”

“The key—”

Slipped from his lips in the few short moments they weren’t covered by yours. You couldn’t care less about his key struggles — you’d been away from him for months, and you fully intended to kiss him for every single time you’d wanted nothing more than exactly that, but had an ocean between you instead.

Eventually, Spencer gave up and fell silent, returning your kiss with his entire being, both of his hands cradling your cheeks perfectly. You wished your skin was made of plaster, able to preserve the shape of them on you forever. You heard his short, muffled whimper and cracked your eyes open, just enough to notice that his glasses were completely fogged up.

His glasses fogged white, his cheeks flushed pink.

You giggled at the sight, making his face match the color palette of his shirt even more. One of his hands slid down from your cheek and drifted toward the small pocket on his chest. “Found the key,” he announced.

It immediately slipped from his fingers and hit the floor with a clatter.

His sigh, your next giggle, and both of you bending down at the same time.

A head collision and two groans.

You burst into open laughter and took full advantage of the fact that he was bent down, reaching for the key, to press a soft kiss to his hair—the very spot where you’d bumped heads. You left a trail of kisses along his head, wandering across his forehead, brushing the tip of his nose, slowly claiming his lips.

Meanwhile, he blindly fumbled with the key, trying to aim it at the lock without breaking the kiss for even a second.

You weren’t sure there’d be enough hours in the night to fully make up for all the time you’d been apart. Especially since you yourself still couldn’t quite believe this was happening. That you were seeing him again. Kissing him again.

Finally, after what felt like real, dragging hours and simultaneously exactly 4.24 light-years traveled in mere minutes—the sound of the lock turning.

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