Serendipity

by pickledpascal

Summary:

In a world where you're colorblind until you see your soulmate, suddenly, Milena can see color but is unsure who her soulmate is.

As the main reporter of the superhero column for the Daily Bugle, she covers the Fantastic Four and their heroic deeds all the time. Until she gets the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to get an interview with the one and only Mr. Fantastic.

Chapter 1: Now in Color!

Life in color seemed overrated. There were just too many colors to name. So many different shades of red, blue, yellow, green—all with their own specific titles. 

Black and white was simple. Shades of grey colored the world since Milena was born, since most people were born. 

Most found color young, in their adolescence, in their teenage years, destined to be with the person who made them see the world as it was meant to be. 

Some, like Milena, found their soulmates—their color—well into their adulthood. Hardened, bittered by the world as if something had passed them by, always seeming so near, yet somehow out of reach, so used to the black and white that it may take weeks, if ever, to fully adjust to color once they have it. 

In her thirties, Milena had become used to the fact that she may never find her soulmate. Maybe they lived on the other side of the world or another planet, if they existed at all. 

What really mattered to her was leaving her stamp on this world. Unlike the super-powered beings of this world, she would do it in a much more mundane way. Chronicling their heroic feats in print. Sometimes even the front page if their acts were grand enough. 

As the leader of the Superhero column for the Daily Bugle, she woke up early to go to a conference for one of the most popular teams of beings ever. The Fantastic Four. It would be her first time seeing them in real life. She’s seen pictures, their faces were plastered nearly everywhere, on billboards, magazines, they even had their own cartoon and comic books written and drawn by some guys who worked down the street from where she lived. Their names escaped her.

Milena poured herself some coffee in a to-go cup, grabbed her coat—labelled ‘chocolate brown’ underneath the tag of the brand—and her bag with a pen tucked behind her ear before she left her apartment, opening her personal notepad with a flourish since she held it one-handed and reviewed her questions. 

She flashed her press badge at the security for the Baxter Building and joined a sea of other journalists, pushing her way to the front. The others narrowed their eyes on her. 

Milena was a formidable force when it came to getting the scoop on the superhero happenings. Her questions were quick, concise, thoughtful, that no one else would think to ask, and generated interesting responses. It didn’t hurt that she was friends with one of them, though the public didn’t know that. 

She downed her coffee and shoved the empty cup in her bag, taking out her recorder as she triple-checked her questions, marking which ones would be more important. 

Soon, a woman—Lynn, Milena realized, who was very integral to the Future Foundation—announced the team would be arriving soon. Milena pressed the button on her recorder, glancing around the room, a sea of blacks, whites, and grays surrounded her but the interior of the Baxter Building seemed carefully curated. She could tell even through the filter on her eyes. 

While the Baxter Building was free for the public to enter during the day, the largest center in the world for the greatest minds to gather, a place where children would come every so often for a field trip, trying to catch a glimpse of Dr. Richards, Mr. and Ms. Storm, or Mr. Grimm using their powers, Milena had never made the trip before. After all, there were plenty of other super-powered individuals she could write about. 

And she could never quite comprehend scientific formulas. Chemistry was her least favorite subject, especially when they explained how flames would change color depending on the element burned or how bright it was. She couldn’t see the color, regardless. It was all white to her. So why should she care?

But the idea that people’s entire physiology could be changed because they got caught in cosmic rays? Well, that made a great story. 

As the Fantastic Four came out to the podium, hands went flying upwards, reporters clamoring to the front as they yelled out questions, pushing Milena behind them. She rolled her eyes. 

“How did you defeat the Red Ghost!”

“How did he escape prison!”

“Are all of his monkeys captured!”

Amateurs. 

Milena did not yell questions but observed them all. She wasn’t expecting to get a word in. Nevertheless, she was there if, by some miracle, they chose her for questions. 

Ben, Johnny, and Sue stood to the side of the podium, letting Reed get bombarded. He seemed different from the others. Ben, of course, was made of rock, a light grey color under natural light. But Reed carried himself differently. Sophisticated. Precise. Like he desperately didn’t want people to know he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders every single day. His hair was two-toned, lighter at his temples. It was his most recognizable trait.

As someone pushed her, Milena crashed into someone else’s shoulders. She turned to potentially yell at the man who bumped into her, the words dying on her tongue as the black and white she saw faded into a kaleidoscope of colors. 

She had never known what the color blue meant. She never asked someone to describe it because she would never understand. But now she knew it was beyond description. Blue was quite blue. And the Baxter Building was covered in it. 

Milena blinked rapidly. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. 

She retreated from the conference, stepping outside. Perhaps that was worse. Her eyes had to adjust to the light and the colors she had never known before. 

The sky was blue. The sun was yellow. A child and their parent walked past, wearing matching green jackets and yellow rainboots. A window showcased a beautiful, floor-length purple evening gown. The billboard advertising sunscreen that showcased Johnny Storm she walked past all the time was a mixture of blue and orange and brown and white.

Milena’s lips were parted, sucking in soft breaths before she looked down at her coat. She ran her hand down the lapel, letting out a broken laugh. Now she knew the meaning of ‘chocolate brown.’ 

She clicked her recorder off and shoved it in her pockets along with her notepad, deciding it might be nice to take a walk instead. She admired the colorful cars, noting a jade Beetle, a navy Hudson Hornet, and stylish scarlet Aston Martin. 

Finding herself near her favorite cafe, Milena decided to enter. She never realized the walls were painted a pale auburn. 

“Heya there, Ms. Sánchez!” Greeted Ray. 

“You have… reddish hair.” Milena said aloud, confused. 

Ray’s eyebrows furrowed, a smile still on his face. “Yes, ma’am, I have for all my life as long as I can remember.”

Right. Ray, though ten years younger than Milena, had known his soulmate since pre-school. He had known color longer than he hadn’t. One of the lucky ones. 

“Are you alright? Is there something you’d like?” He asked kindly, drumming his fingers on the familiar porcelain counter.

Milena noticed the small brown, circular stain on the counter before she shook herself out of her thoughts. “I’m well. I don’t mean to worry you. Just my usual, please, Ray.” She finally said, digging through her satchel to give him exact change.

She had never realized pennies were a completely different color than other coins. She saw it now, as she handed some over to Ray.

Once her coffee was done, he handed it over with a bright smile. “Here you are. A latte with sweet cream and extra vanilla!” The cup had a striped pattern on it, alternating in blues and oranges. 

“Thank you, Ray.” Milena nodded at him before she took a sip and made her way back home.

Her apartment building was in the heart of the city. Times Square. A sensory overload without color and even worse with it. 

She sighed as soon as she closed her door, pressing her back against it. She shrugged her coat off along with setting her bag on the floor, moving through the space on autopilot to put her half-empty coffee on her living room table. She stopped when she realized her furniture did not match at all. 

Milena had bought her couch and loveseats from two different stores, both labelled them as ‘green,’ but clearly they were entirely different shades of green. One was lighter and paler while the other was darker and richer. 

With a frustrated breath, Milena rubbed her forehead and caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the wall parallel to her. She blinked and got closer to her reflection. 

She had always thought of her hair as black but that wasn’t it at all. It was brown. A deep brown. With a red undertone? What did that even mean? And her eyes. They were green? With flecks of…what was that? Gold? Her skin was the only expected part. Something a few shades lighter than her hair, still deep and rich in tone. 

Milena fell back onto her couch, hands on her face. There were so many stories of people saying that their life was changed once they saw color and she couldn’t help but assume that was bullshit as a true cynic would. Except they were right. The world wasn’t black and white at all, if it ever was. 

Then, her thoughts started spiraling. 

She started to see color in the Baxter Building, surrounded by hundreds of people. Her soulmate could’ve been anybody. It had to be another reporter. Maybe the guy that bumped into her? Perhaps the woman she was pushed into? 

She needed to figure out who it was. 

Most stories she listened to, it was immediately apparent who their soulmate was as the colors would fade into existence mere moments at staring at their soulmate for the first time. But they weren’t always surrounded by reporters trying to get the attention of superheroes, were they?

Milena grabbed her notepad and pen from her coat, sipping on the rest of her now lukewarm coffee as she compiled a list of all the people she knew would be at the conference. 

Ben, Sue, Reed, and Johnny were obvious but surely it could not be any of them—there were rumors Reed and Sue were soulmates and Milena was friends with Johnny’s soulmates although that wasn’t public knowledge either. That left Ben. And, although she wouldn’t mind being paired with that hunk of rocks, he wasn’t quite her type.

Soulmates were meant to compliment each other, flawed in ways the other was strong, be the other's ideal partner in every way, including looks. 

An investigation was on her hands. Thankfully, Milena had a doctorate specializing in investigative journalism that was collecting dust on a shelf.

Chapter 2: Presented in Fantastivision!

Summary:

Essentially chapter one but from Reed's point of view!

Black and white was a simple way to see the world. But it made sense. Much like the known and unknown. Two opposing sides of the same coin yet complimented each other nicely. 

Reed Richards had made it his duty to find the unknown to make it known, ever since he was young. When he was young, he tried inventing different gadgets to let him see color. He wanted to see the world the way other people did. None worked. 

Over time, he thought of that simplicity as a blessing, convincing himself he was fine not having color in his life. He had to focus on other parts of his life, like earning his sixteenth PhD or the fate of the world as more and more superpowered beings started to pop up.

As a superhuman himself, smarter than ever before, he could solve all the world’s problems if he just focused. If he tried hard enough. Or that’s what he kept telling himself. 

Reed carefully tied a patterned tie around his neck, supposedly a venetian red as the label suggested though he could never know for sure. The only thing he really liked about it was the fact that it stood out from his suit, mostly due to the pattern on it. He carefully brushed his hair into place with a comb that had metal prongs. 

The Fantastic Four had just defeated the Red Ghost. Again. 

And that meant yet another conference with the press. Again. And he knew he would be really the only one answering the questions as many saw him as the leader when, rather, they were all very important. Equals by some measure. 

There was a knock on his bedroom door. He walked over, opening it to find Herbie carrying a tray with some toast slathered in jam, hard-boiled eggs, and a mug of a beautifully made latte. He beeped curiously. 

“That’s very kind of you. Thank you, Herbie.” Reed nodded before he grabbed the tray and walked over to his desk to begin eating.

Herbie entered as well, making a few more curious beeps as he stared up at Reed. As if his face could ever really show concern upon it. 

“I know I don’t eat breakfast enough. I’m—” Reed drew in a frustrated breath as he unshelled the eggs and smoothly cut them in half. “I’m trying to get better about it.”

“You know it’s hard to think on an empty stomach.” Ben said from the doorway. “Or, that’s what people say.”

For someone completely made of rock, he sure could sneak up on people. Perhaps that was by design.

Reed let out a soft huff, amused by his friend. “I think plenty fine without food. Though it is always delicious when you’re making it, my friend.” He took a bite of toast and hummed. “Is that—?”

“Apricot? Yeah.” Ben shrugged. “Thought you might appreciate it.” 

“Was this your idea?” Reed said between bites, narrowing his eyes at Ben, “Get Herbie to force me to actually have breakfast for once? One that does not consist solely of coffee?” He was not bothered at all, or tried not to make it seem like he was. 

Ben chuckled, “Actually, I think it was Herbie’s idea. Wasn’t it, Herb?” He gently patted Herbie’s head as he beeped in protest. 

“Whoever’s idea it was…” Reed wiped a napkin against his lips, “I appreciate it very much.” 

“Just lookin’ out for you, stretch.” Ben nodded at him before he turned to leave the room with small, retreating stomps. 

Right. 

Ben was one of the only friends Reed had. His longest friends. Sue and Johnny were close but no one could quite understand him like Ben did. If platonic soulmates existed, Reed would come to the conclusion that Ben was his. 

After finishing up his breakfast, he gave the tray back to Herbie who was already in the middle of doing the dishes. 

“There you are.” Johnny smirked, patting Reed’s shoulder. “Lynn said there’s going to be hundreds of reporters down there this time.”

“Exactly one-hundred and fifty-two.” Reed corrected. 

Johnny faltered slightly, raising an eyebrow. “She tell you that?’”

“No, but I had a look at the news outlets invited as well as some of their biggest writers that are sure to come.” Reed then narrowed his eyes to nowhere in particular, “Perhaps less than one-hundred and fifty-two because people may be unwell since it is currently flu season.”

“You are one weird dude.” Johnny commented.

Sue appeared, nudging her brother. “More like prepared.”

Even in black and white, Reed thought Sue was one of the most beautiful people he’d ever seen. If she allowed him to see her, that is. 

Before, and even a little after, the cosmic rays altered their DNA, they had tried to be together, had tried building a life together, but something was missing. He loved Sue. Dearly. Or so he thought. But he imagined it would be different with his soulmate. Deeper. More profound. Horrifying. 

Did he even have a soulmate? He was well into his forties, nearing fifty with grey streaks in his hair, and still, there was no color in his life. Was he capable of that funny little emotion so many people devote their lives to? Sing songs about? Write entire novels, paint masterpieces, make art in service of? 

Was he even capable of that feeling? He sucked at the arts. He could barely cook. Baking, somehow, was always a disaster. That’s why he left the kitchen duties to Ben and Herbie. 

When they arrived in the lobby for the conference, Reed took the podium as he always did. Camera flashes and yelled questions only served to make him feel like the spotlight was solely on him rather than him and his companions. 

“How did you defeat the Red Ghost!”

“How did he escape prison!”

“Are all of his monkeys captured!”

All to be expected. It felt like no one was even trying anymore but the importance of journalism and exposure could not be overstated. It helped The Fantastic Four appear more friendly, less like science experiments gone wrong, but even Reed had his thoughts about the cost of it all. 

As he tried to answer one of many questions, he caught a glimpse of a woman getting shoved into someone else so they could get closer to the front. 

“All of the Red Ghost’s apes are currently in captivity, however they are being treated humanely by the best—” Reed paused, blinking slightly as color began to fade into existence. 

Splashes of blue first, then yellow, then red. And then came the more intricate colors like greens or purples or oranges. Was the Baxter Building always so blue? 

“Doctor Richards?” A reporter spoke up.

Reed was snapped back into reality. The reporter wore a dusty orange coat. “Right, I apologize. I’m not quite myself. Sue,” He looked to her, “Would you mind taking over?”

Surprised, Sue simply nodded and they traded places. She easily took over as she was an incredibly gifted speaker and was the co-founder of the Future Foundation. Some seemed to forget that in the heat of extracting information.

Reed retreated upstairs, a hand rubbing his forehead. Surely this couldn’t be happening and yet, each time he opened his eyes, color was everywhere. Not just the rainbow. No, life was more nuanced than that. 

Reed Richards had fought world-ending threats and survived life-altering catastrophes but he could not comprehend this. 

Somewhere in that sea of reporters was his soulmate. 

Herbie beeped a few times, signalling his presence.

“Oh. Hello, Herbie.” Reed greeted flatly before he focused on the bot in front of him. 

He had built the house robot himself, designed the Baxter Building and their suits and was starting to realize, somehow, he unknowingly had a preference for the color blue.

He made his way to the lab, Herbie following behind him, chirping. “I’m fine. I’ve just started to see color for the first time is all.” When he entered the lab, he paused. 

It appeared that the three different sections were color-coded: red, blue, and yellow. Who allowed him to decorate the interior? Now he knew what Johnny was saying all those times he made fun of the lab.

Herbie chirped, tilting his head. “Yes, but I haven’t a clue who it is. I need to find them.” Reed sat at a computer, pulling up the camera footage from the thirty minutes. “I need to comb through this footage carefully. Can you help me?” Herbie beeped in confirmation and nodded. 

Trying to analyze thirty-minute footage turned into hours of Reed and Herbie trying to identify each reporter and where they were in relation to when he began to see color, factoring in for any sort of delay that could have happened.

He was in the midst of scribbling down potential names when his watch buzzed with an alert. It snapped him from his reverie. He checked the time.

7:02.

He was late for family dinner.

“Goodness.” Reed blinked, glancing around the blue desktop which had crumbled papers strewn all over it. He ran hand through his messy hair as he stood and ran to the elevator with Herbie behind him. “I know, I know. Out of everyone, I’m never late for family dinner.”

He smoothed out his—was that burgundy?—tie before he realized it was still tucked into his shirt so he could look more put together. 

“Oh, there you are. I thought you disappeared!” Sue half-smiled, concerned. “You don’t leave in the middle of something like that.”

“I apologize, there was some… research I had to do.” Not technically a lie. “Quite urgent.” Reed slipped into his seat next to her, mustering up a nervous smile.

Johnny cut in, shoveling some mashed potatoes onto his plate. “I told you he was probably busy being a nerd and look! He was.” He passed the bowl to Ben. 

Reed caught himself staring at the salad on the other side of the table. Not because he wanted it but because of the crisp green shade of the lettuce and the brightness of the tomatoes, carrots, and red onions. But those onions weren’t exactly red. More purple. 

“You saw your soulmate didn’t you?” 

All clattering of utensils of idle chatter died when those words left Ben’s mouth. Johnny and Sue shared a look before they turned towards Reed.

He looked at all of his friends’ expectant faces. “Yes, but I—”

“Well, that's wonderful!” Sue smiled, genuinely happy for him.

“Thank fucking christ.” Johnny quipped.

“I don’t know who it was.” Reed finished.

The table went quiet again. They were used to peculiar situations but not immediately knowing who someone’s soulmate was entirely unheard of. Then again, life had been nothing short of interesting since their lives were altered on an atomic level. 

“You’ll find them. I know you will.” Ben said, without a doubt in his mind. “You’re already trying, aren’t you?”

Reed shrugged, feeling caught. “I compiled a list of names, particularly those within my line of sight.”

“God, you are so weird.” Johnny said under his breath as he shook his head. 

“Whoever it is,” Sue squeezed Reed’s shoulder, “I’m sure you’re going to be great together.” She said it as if she knew how his brain worked, like he was already coming up with excuses as to why he should not pursue them. Maybe he had. 

The rest of dinner remained uneventful, Sue filled him in on the rest of the conference and how it went and then Johnny began to rave about how he wanted to go back up to space. Reed kindly reminded him that they had no reason to.

As he prepared for bed, Reed began to realize just how colorful his wardrobe truly was. He wore a white and green striped set of pajamas to bed after brushing his teeth and shaving some of the extra scruff off his jaw. 

Then he grabbed the newspaper he saved from last night to read. The article on the front page of the Daily Bugle was about the Red Ghost attack and how he saved the day using his smarts rather than by relying on his abilities. It was extremely well written and simultaneously praised his, Sue’s, Ben’s, and Johnny’s efforts while remaining completely unbiased. Hard nowadays. 

He glanced up at the byline underneath the title. 

Milena Sánchez. 

That name seemed familiar. Had she done another front-page article before? Johnny would likely know.

Notes:

i love when comic book movies stay faithful to their source material bro like it's just too damn good

Chapter 3: By The Byline

Summary:

Milena gets the opportunity of a lifetime.

Slowly, Milena began getting used to color. Very slowly. She was still fascinated by the subtle differences in certain shades of color. Periwinkle was much different than lavender and mauve was not at all like lilac. 

She nearly considered getting a new wardrobe or at least some more clothes and donating half her closet. Her friend, Esha, had convinced her not to.

Her usual morning routine for work was the same, yet felt so different. Her sheets were a burnt orange, the color of the sky as the sun began to set, and her room was painted a deep green but decorated with black and white photographs with the occasional film poster in color. 

She got up, dressed in a simple white nightgown that went down to mid-thigh, and made her way to the bathroom. The brush she used was a deep, cool brown, and then quickly did her makeup. The usual style for the time—winged eyeliner, a light eyeshadow, vibrant blush, and a neutral lipstick.

Then came her clothes. 

Milena decided on a brown patterned pair of pants that had a matching vest, she put a white button-up underneath, then some brown heeled boots for shoes. She didn’t have anything important to do at work so she didn’t have to dress up too much. She put a white headband in her hair to match the shirt. 

She put the coffee pot on as she made breakfast. Out of all the colors that fascinated her, the brightness of certain foods really captivated her. Egg yolks could be so yellow! Before, they were a light grey that didn’t seem that appetizing but they were full of protein so she ate them anyway.

She made a simple bagel sandwich packed with scrambled eggs, cheese, and two different meats and then prepared her coffee in a to-go cup. She grabbed her jacket and bag, taking both with her on the walk to the Daily Bugle so she could eat and still manage to arrive early. 

Milena was always on time or fifteen minutes early. She despised being late. It felt as if she was being disrespectful. Especially if she were to be late to an interview. 

By the time she arrived in the office, she wiped her mouth with a napkin and threw it away. Her bagel was gone. Her coffee was almost there. 

“There you are, Sánchez!” Esha greeted, a Daily Bugle mug in hand. She began walking with Milena to her desk. “I hear Jameson wants you on something top shelf.” 

Milena slid her bag off her shoulder, rolling her eyes. “You know how I feel about office gossip. Your glasses are crooked, Sha.” She turned on the research computer as she discarded her coat onto her chair. 

Esha quickly adjusted her glasses. “I’m being serious, Lena! I have no clue what it is, but I will find out by the end of the day.” She vowed dramatically. 

“I’m sure you will.” She said, a little amused and absent as she grabbed her notebook from her bag.

Esha glanced at Milena’s notes, voice turning more sad. “Still trying to find your soulmate?”

“Yeah. You’d think there’d be an ad in the paper for me by now. Or something.” Milena hummed, simultaneously writing notes for another paper that she was about to finish while typing. 

“What if it is just someone from the Fantastic Four? Sans Johnny. It makes complete sense. You were staring at them and a few minutes later, your color started appearing.” Esha reasoned, a hand on the back of Milena’s chair.

“Except it’s not any of them.”

“Except you might just be in denial.”  

“I am not.”

“Yes. You are.”

“Nope.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Where’s Peter?” Milena quickly changed the subject.

Esha hummed, “Oh, I think he’s currently taking a spider out of my bathroom. Or maybe checking if my oven is on. Very kind of him.”

“Hm. I’m sure that’s all it is.” Milena chuckled. She ripped a page from her notepad and handed it to Esha. “Well, when he gets here, tell him I need all of those photos before my story can go to print.”  

Esha’s eyes scanned the scribbles. “I’ll be sure to pass this along.”

“Sánchez!” Came the all-too familiar sound of J. Jonah Jameson’s booming voice. “In my office! Now!”

Esha and Milena shared a look. “Top shelf.” Esha repeated with a smirk.

Milena rolled her eyes as she grabbed her notepad and made her way into Jameson’s office. “Yes, Mr. Jameson? What do you need?” She closed the door behind her and observed the older man. 

He was sitting at his desk like he wasn’t just yelling at her—or even an intern—a few moments ago. “Kid, I think you should sit down for this.” Milena stared at him suspiciously but sunk into the seat across his desk. “You’re not getting fired.” He paused for effect, “The Daily Bugle has been offered an exclusive interview with Mr. Fantastic and I want you to conduct it.”

“Me?” Milena blinked.

“Yes, you.” Jameson took a puff from his cigar.

It wasn’t necessarily that Milena was surprised—she was the superhero column writer—it was that she wasn’t expecting to see Reed Richards again. Not so soon after getting color into her life. Unreasonable, in a sense. Why should that matter? She had done way worse, confronted horrible politicians, asked heroes about those they couldn’t save, and always stood by her more controversial writing. 

Substance mattered. Milena had plenty of that. 

If a story didn’t have substance, at face value, then she added it. Making it ten times better, if not more.

“You’re gonna do great, kid. Now get outta here.” Jameson ordered.

Sometimes Milena wondered why she stayed at the Bugle. But Esha was there. And Jameson had more heart than he let on. 

When Milena arrived back at her desk, Esha was waiting there. “So…. top shelf?”

“Top shelf.” Milena confirmed, still slightly dazed.

“Yes, I knew it! What is it?” Esha asked excitedly. “Are you being invited to the Stark Expo? I heard Stark likes to bang reporters, though. So watch out for that. Or maybe you’re touring the Xavier Insititute! Being born with powers must be as cool as it is scary.” She rubbed her chin in thought. 

Milena opened up her notepad and wrote ‘Richards:’ in immaculate handwriting as she looked up his name on her computer. “I’m being tasked with interviewing Mr. Fantastic.” 

He had eighteen PhDs. Who needed that many doctorates? Apparently, the smartest man on Earth did. 

“You’re interviewing Mr. Fantastic?” Esha asked a little too loudly, capturing the attention of some of their nearby peers. 

 

“You want to do an interview… solo?” Sue clarified, confused but attempting to understand his line of thought. “You haven't done a solo interview since before we went up to space.”

“Even then, you hated it.” Ben added. 

Reed had wanted to run his plan by the team since the interviewer, regardless of who it was, would be entering the Baxter Building. Their home. And most people didn't like having someone they didn't know in their home unless given warning. 

“Loathed it, more like. But you're growing. That's good.” Johnny smiled, patting Reed’s shoulder. 

Reed stared at Johnny weirdly before he looked at the others. “My soulmate is clearly a reporter. And I believe it is this reporter.” 

The universe had a funny way of showing people exactly what they needed to see and when. He knew it wasn’t a coincidence that Milena was one of the reporters at the conference and the newspaper with her article on the front page was the one waiting for him on his nightstand. 

Coincidences were just another word for destiny, for fate and its invisible strings. 

“But you don't know for sure?” Sue pressed.

“Not exactly. No. But I'm ninety-eight-point-seven percent sure.” Reed answered.

Ben cocked a rocky brow. “So this is your way of meeting her?” 

“Yes. How else would I go about it?” Reed’s eyebrows furrowed. 

Johnny laughed at Reed’s clear ineptitude for social situations. “By telling her that you're her soulmate! Maybe even bring flowers or chocolates or something. Just… be normal.”

Be normal. Reed Richards has never been normal. And sometimes it irked him when people asked him to be. Normal for him was this. It was calculating the exact chances of something and weighing it against its opposite. It was tinkering with robotics in the middle of the night, calibrating certain modes Herbie had, turning his chirps and beeps into more understandable words. It was research that ran too long when he was completely and utterly fixated on a certain equation or a certain phenomena. 

“Okay but… you are going to tell her, right?” Ben's eyebrow twitched slightly. “Do you even have a plan?”

Reed subtly adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. “Well, I haven't exactly worked it out yet.” He admitted, “I have that scheduled for later.”  

Johnny shook his head and sighed. “You deal with that. I gotta go take out a spider.” He patted Reed’s shoulder before he turned to leave.

Ben and Sue shook their heads at Johnny. He kept saying that like they didn’t know what he was leaving to do. It was annoying at this point. And he meant it to be, just to be a subtle nuisance. 

“From what I gathered from the little research I’ve already done, Milena Sánchez is one of the best superhero journalists out there meaning she will ask wonderfully thoughtful questions meaning the interview may take some time so I was hoping that she would simply… read our connection after being around me for long enough.” Reed ignored Johnny’s exit and focused on Ben and Sue. 

Reed didn’t usually lead with his emotions as he had a hard time expressing them in the first place. Not because he was wronged as a child for any particular reason, he was simply wired that way. 

But soulmates were not completely logical. Of course, the concept that two people were made of the same space dust and were intrinsically connected did make sense on a molecular level but the idea that certain people just knew when they looked at their soulmate was not logical. Not really. And yet he was counting on it with Milena. That he would simply know it was her. And she would know it was him.

Notes:

reed "autistic" richards you are so dear to me

Chapter 4: Yellow Pages

Summary:

The awaited interview with Reed Richards.

Researching Reed Richards was quite easy. He was everywhere. Even before he gained his abilities, there were plenty of articles about his mind, about his upbringing.

But none really broke down Reed Richards into more of a human. They were all about his intellect and what he planned to do with it, what he had already done. In Milena's opinion, interviews were meant to humanize someone, to make the public see that, perhaps, a certain celebrity or politician might not be all that different from anyone else. 

However, how does someone go about humanizing literally the smartest man alive? They start with the basics. Simple questions that can be built upon later.

Milena woke up extra early, triple–quadruple–checking her questions to make sure they made sense, switching around the order a few times for a proper flow. She didn't get nervous about these things anymore but she knew the sort of privilege she had. The Fantastic Four didn't let just anyone interview them. Clearly, Jameson and someone from the team thought she was fit for the job and that added some pressure she wasn't prepared for. 

She made her way to the Baxter Building twenty minutes early, a pen behind her ear as she checked in at the front desk. A bright yellow school bus was parked outside. A class must've been there for a field trip. 

“I’m here for an interview with Dr. Richards. He should be expecting me.” Milena told a front desk operator, showing them her badge. 

They looked at her badge and then at the computer on the desk and typed a few things in. “Right. Of course. I’ll let him know and someone should be down in a few minutes. You can wait here, if you’d like.”

Milena nodded, “Thank you.” She stepped away from the desk to take a more in depth look at the lobby than she had before. 

It was sleek with rounded shapes and walls that were half white, half blue and stainless steel lettering letting visitors know where certain things were—like bathrooms or conference rooms—the front desk or ‘check in’ area had one too. To offset the blue and white with some warmth, there was the occasional paneling of light wood.

Then she looked at the statue outside that greeted visitors before they ever set foot inside the building. A statue of the Fantastic Four immortalized in stainless steel. Somehow, it never looked dirty or dull or damaged. Always gleaming.

Maybe it wasn’t strictly made of steel?

“You’re quite early, you know.” A calm, even voice said from beside her. Reed Richards. She’d heard enough of his voice on television and the radio to know the sound. 

However, something in her assumed he would have an assistant or someone not himself to come fetch her. He might’ve just wanted to be polite. Either way, it was nice. 

Milena turned towards him, offering a polite smile. “Well, I like to give a good first impression.” She took in his appearance—the impeccably tailored dark grey suit, light blue button-up, and dark green patterned tie but also the dark pools of his brown eyes—and offered a hand to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Richards.”

Reed had, of course, done his own research on Milena and that included finding very few pictures of her. She was beautiful in those portraits, yet nothing could be comparable to her beauty in real life. 

He was struck by her. Perhaps it was the clothes that helped. 

She wore a deep, almost dusty, green dress with a thick brown belt around her waist that matched the knee-high boots on her legs. Her coat—more of a trenchcoat—was brown, too, but it was darker, warmer, richer. The pen tucked behind her ear made her look all the more charming and the hazel of her eyes, knowingly or not, matched her clothes. 

She looked like the Earth, personified. 

“The pleasure’s all mine, Ms. Sánchez.” Reed shook her hand, noting her firm grip in the back of his mind. He motioned for her to follow him to the elevators. “I hope it’s alright but I’ve decided we should do the interview in my personal lab. There, we can have some more privacy.”

Milena walked with him, nodding. “That sounds perfect. Whatever makes you most comfortable.” 

She watched as he entered a code to the elevator. It was a different one than the others, the public elevator she realized. This was the private one. 

The doors slid open and Reed let her get in first, a steady hand hovering over the small of her back before he entered next and pressed the button for the floor. 

“This won’t be on the record but,” Milena spoke up, the slightest of creases between her eyebrows, “What do you prefer I call you? Mr. Fantastic? Dr. Richards? Or just Reed?”

Reed didn’t answer right away. He simply looked at her, a sort of blankness in his stare. No one ever asked him that. “I suppose Mr. Fantastic would sound silly for an interview, so Dr. Richards or Reed would work just fine.” He answered. 

Milena made a mental note of that, nodding, “Alright then, Dr. Richards. I have to imagine you do want to be reminded of all the hard work you did to earn eighteen PhDs.” 

“I forget, did the interview already start?” He raised an eyebrow.

Milena bit her lip, shutting herself up. “Right, I apologize. I’ll save the rest for later.”

Inexplicably, Reed had her talking, ranting without even trying. Milena, by no means, was unfriendly, she was just not particularly sociable. An introvert. And yet, she was already going on side-tangents around him. Peculiar. 

When the elevator door slid open, Milena was greeted with one of the most interesting looking labs ever. Not that she had been around many labs in her life but she always assumed they were all white and sterile. Not this one. 

There were three separate sections, divided by color—yellow, red, and blue—each with their own designated purpose, it seemed.

A robot beeped in front of her as soon as she stepped into the lab. She was slightly taken aback. Part of her forgot that Herbie, the Fantastic Four’s robotic companion, existed for a moment. She glanced at Reed when the robot chirped again.

“He’s asking if you would like anything to drink.” Reed translated as he guided her to the yellow section. “You’ll start to understand him if you’re around him long enough.”

“Right.” Milena stared at Reed weirdly and then looked at Herbie. “I’m alright, thank you.” 

Herbie nodded and buzzed something that suspiciously sounded like, “You’re welcome!” but the syllables weren’t said quite as clearly as a human would say them. 

Reed sat on the yellow couch, hands folded in his lap as he watched every single light twitch in Milena’s body as she shouldered off her coat to prepare for the interview. The way she moved was so unintentionally fluid. She had taken the pen from her ear and put it between her teeth as she put her notebook aside and grabbed her tape recorder from her bag. Again, a slight tension in her brow that she probably wasn’t even aware of. 

He felt like he was studying a subject in a controlled environment. To some degree, he was. He was just so fascinated by every part of her, he could watch her for hours just to pick up on the subtleties of her movement and her behavior. 

All the color in the world appeared brighter when she was in sight. Surely, she was his soulmate. And he was hers. 

Once situated, Milena sat on the couch with Reed, facing him with an arm on the back of the couch, and set her tape recorder between them, clicking it on. “Just as a formality, I am Milena Sánchez and I am sitting with Doctor Reed Richards otherwise known as Mr. Fantastic. Starting off easy, how are you today?”

“I must admit, I’m nervous. Usually, I have three other people I can turn to when words fail me.” Reed chuckled, feeling the faintest of heat on his face. 

Milena smiled politely as she flipped open her notebook, “Well, I promise none of these questions will be too terribly hard for you to form an answer.”

“That would be greatly appreciated.” Reed returned with a smile of his own but it was smaller, measured, controlled. Shy. 

“Do you use your powers for everyday life?” Milena wasn’t necessarily lying. Some of her questions were softballs, while others were not. But certain inquiries were deceptively simple. 

Reed looked at the chalkboard sitting opposite to them. His own scrawlings of physics equations and drawn diagrams stared back at him. “I don’t think about it, normally. My mutation hasn’t caused as much of a physical transformation as, say, Ben. Johnny certainly does. He’s always burning things, flying around town, cooking with his flames.”

“But this interview is about you, Dr. Richards, not Johnny Storm.” Milena reminded. She didn’t even look up as she scribbled notes.

“Of course. Sorry.” Reed’s lips drew into a thin line. He always defaulted to talking about his team members when he wasn’t sure what else to do. 

Milena hummed, eyes finding him again. “One of your most popular initiatives is your TV show, ‘Fantastic Science with Mr. Fantastic,’ why make a science show geared towards children?”

“Science is for everyone, regardless of their background due to race, age, or gender.” Reed’s jaw clenched a moment, tilting his head. “I think it can be seen as inaccessible lest you have the proper funds or you look a certain way but everyone has the culpability to become great nonetheless. I was privileged enough to have parents that nurtured my intellect instead of shunning it.” 

“Without them, you wouldn’t be here?” She went slightly off-script, but she did that a lot anyway.

Reed nodded, “Certainly not.” 

Milena noted that down on the yellow pages of her leatherbound notebook. Reed watched her pen more closely as letters began flowing out of it. Her handwriting was elegant but there was an edge to it, the lightest amount of messiness, of charm. 

“You and the rest of the Fantastic Four are pretty much everywhere. On advertisements for pizza, bespoke tailoring, on magazines for engineering, quantum-physics, and politics. Do you enjoy your face being plastered on cereal boxes?” Milena adjusted her position slightly, bending her knee to set her notebook on top of it.

Reed blinked, surprised by such a question. Yet another thing he had not been asked before. However, he thought about it all the time. “I wouldn’t say I particularly enjoy it. I am not… a people person. I do not enjoy attention.” He confessed. “But I am the one who came up with the idea for us to become ‘celebrities.’ It is a necessary evil when trying to make the public comfortable with us, to listen to us. We could have come back and people may have been afraid of us unless we… weren’t on the front of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.” He tried to joke. 

“Your abilities could certainly be seen as horrifying.” Milena agreed, studying Reed. He didn't ever meet her eyes. Even when he looked at her, it was always a little above or a little below her eyeline. “Technology can also be seen as scary by some. As someone who creates more advanced tech, why do you think that is?”

Reed adjusted his hands in his lap. “People are afraid of being replaced, of what it can do. But technology, in itself, is not bad or good. It is a thing. It exists. It depends on what people do with it. Much like a weapon.” He began to motion with his hands, displaying his passion on the subject. “Do you use it for protection, to shield, or to kill? Technology has the same capabilities.”

If there was one thing he believed above all else, is that technology could help humans go forward, not backwards. Innovation mattered. It would better humanity. But there would always be people who used things, invented things, to breed fear and suffering. 

He could think of plenty of people who did that. 

“There are some who accuse you of bringing more super-powered villains to light. Do you agree with that?” Milena’s voice and face were passive, not accusing nor uncomfortable by her own line of questioning. 

She had integrity, wanting to ask questions from all angles. Reed could respect that. He did respect that. He was not treated like a celebrity as he normally was, reporters fawning over him, but as a human. 

“I believe power breeds power. So, partly, yes.” Reed nodded, his eyes solemn and contemplative. “Yet some of these threats are ancient, way older than the Earth. Perhaps, even our solar system.”

“Do you think you’re helping to thwart these threats?” A simple question but a heavy one. 

Reed took a deep breath. “I really hope so.” He breathed, eyebrows morphing into something of a concerned expression. “I would never want people to be in danger, for them to fear something may happen, but it is a fact of life. For joy to occur there must also be sadness. For pleasure, there must also be pain. For every life I save, someone else may die.”

“That must be a lot of pressure.” Milena commented, a small crack in her calm exterior. A flicker of sympathy.

“It can be, but I–” Reed awkwardly smiled, “I manage.” 

Milena pursed her lips, clearly contemplating something before she asked her next question. “Many say you are the greatest mind of our time. Why pursue science?”

“I am naturally quite curious. I like to ask questions. I like to know how things work—from the mechanisms in a camera or the formula to calculate how to breach the multiverse. I do not like the unknown. It is—”

“Scary?” Milena suggested.

“Petrifying.” Reed nodded. “For something to exist that may never be known, but exists anyway.” 

There was a pang in his chest. Nerves. 

For so long, that unknowable thing was his soulmate. Milena. She had existed for thirty-six years, if his research was correct—and it always was—but he had just never realized it. Until now.

The unknowable has become known. And, somehow, right now, that was so much more terrifying. 

Milena hummed and scribbled a few more notes on his answers before she closed her notepad and turned off her recorder. “I appreciate you taking the time to talk with me today, Dr. Richards. It was really… informative.” She smiled, more friendly than the polite one she gave earlier. 

“I’m glad you thought so.” Reed nervously returned the smile, offering a hand to shake. 

She was leaving. That much was easy to read. 

As Milena packed up her things and shouldered her jacket back on, Reed spoke up again, rushing the words out, “Maybe you’d like a tour of the building? Tomorrow? And, perhaps, it would be beneficial for you to study me for the next few days. How I work and all that. For your article, of course.” 

Stupid excuse. Johnny would probably laugh if he was there. Thankfully, he was not. Reed was panicked. What if she didn’t realize who he really was to her? What if she’d hate him? All sorts of questions rolled around in his brain.

“I’m not sure—” Milena stopped herself when she really looked at Reed. “Actually, yes. That would be helpful.”

“Great!” He stood with her, clasping his hands together. “Let me… walk you out.”

“Thank you again, Dr. Richards.” 

The way she kept saying ‘Dr. Richards’ was making his head spin. The only other people who called him that were his employees, even then, they began to call him ‘Reed’ after a while. 

“Trust me, the pleasure’s all mine.”

Notes:

this entire chapter was really reed richards vs human interaction with people outside the fantastic four

Chapter 5: Rose-Colored Lenses

Summary:

Milena tours the lab with Reed.

Notes:

my astronomy 101 class really came in clutch trying to write this

as they say, a smart character is really only as smart as the writer and i am NOT that smart guys

The idea of watching Reed Richards at work was an opportunity Milena couldn’t pass up. Such a brilliant mind on display, specifically for her and her article? Sign her up.

It certainly didn’t have anything to do with the way he would look at her like something worth studying or how soothing the sound of his calm, matter-of-fact tone of voice was. Not at all. It was strictly for professional purposes. 

Though, deep down, Milena knew that was a lie. Even watching Reed offer such a thing, she knew there were ulterior motives. She was good at reading people. Though she wasn’t quite sure what his ulterior motive was. 

As far as she knew from the research she did, Reed Richards did not have many partners. Only one on record. That one being Sue Storm, or the Invisible Woman, as children knew her, but she was so much more. She was a scientist in her own right but contributed largely to the Future Foundation and was a major political leader. 

That left Milena feeling inadequate. She was a simple journalist who got her start in Los Angeles doing regular stories about ordinary people. She had such a normal life. From the way she took her coffee to the times she would get yelled at by her boss and took it in stride, though she probably shouldn’t. Or how she’d face off a corrupt politician in the wake of their controversies, knowing it could be dangerous, that her life could be in danger just because she dared to ask questions. 

Maybe not that normal. Still, it was crazy. Sue and Reed weren’t even together anymore, and Milena had no claim over either of them anyway. 

Her feelings were confusing. It was natural to be attracted to a man like Reed. Regardless of his incredible brain and academic pursuits, he was an attractive, kind man. But Milena was not easily swayed by things such as good looks or nice manners. Usually. Strange. 

And so Milena arrived at the Baxter Building early. Again. This time, thirty minutes early rather than twenty. Something in her was making her more than nervous, stressing over wanting to make a good impression.

She had chosen a blue and white dress that day, something instinctive about the choice. It was paired with white buckle-heels and sheer blue tights since the weather was getting colder with every passing day. Her trusty brown jacket was draped over her shoulders as it usually was. She didn’t go many places without it. 

Picking clothes now that she could see color seemed so much harder. A part of her wondered how she looked before, if she had accidentally worn one of the worst outfits ever, even though every piece of clothing was labelled with its color. 

“You’re even earlier than yesterday.” Reed commented when he came down to the lobby to fetch Milena. His tone wasn’t complimentary or surprised, just factual. 

Today, he wore a deep blue suit with thin stripes and a pale brown tie. Unintentionally and unnoticed—by Milena, at least—they matched. 

Milena followed him to the elevator and shrugged. “I like being prepared. And I don’t like wasting other people's time.” She stood next to him, the cylindrical doors closing them inside. 

“That is a nice thought. However, I would hate to keep you waiting if I were in a meeting.” Although there was plenty of space in the elevator, Reed stood a few inches away from her, a light smile on his face that made her heart do something weird. 

“Were you?” She asked. “In a meeting?”

Reed shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “No. Because I was expecting you.”

“Did you clear your schedule or something?” Milena joked, though there was a twinge of hope in her voice that she didn’t register.

Reed chuckled, shaking his head. “No. Not completely, anyway. That would defeat the entire purpose of you studying my work habits and such.” 

Right. That’s what she was there for. Nothing else. Then why did it feel like they had known each other for so long? Milena trusted her instincts because they were usually right, and something was telling her there was more to all of this, but she wasn’t quite sure what yet. 

The doors to the elevators slid open once they arrived on the private lab floor. Reed let Milena step out first, a careful, steady hand hovering over the small of her back like it belonged there. 

“So,” Milena reassessed her surroundings, “What do the different colors of the lab mean?” 

Of course she would catch onto that. Reed smiled, almost proud. “If I’m honest, before I saw color, I had no clue they were completely different colors.” He confessed. “The red area is for testing. I’ve been working on a portal—a bridge of sorts.” He gestured to the working prototype. “Mostly just been teleporting eggs.”

“Huh.” Milena hummed, eyes roaming over the three prongs of the machine. “Have you tried anything bigger?”

“No. I’m afraid it takes too much power. Even just teleporting an egg causes a blackout throughout Manhattan.” Reed said, not quite disappointed, but something close enough.

Milena gasped. “ You’re the reason my apartment keeps running out of power!” She wasn’t accusing or angry, just mildly amused.

“Apologies.” Reed chuckled, then gestured to the yellow area where they had their interview the previous day. “This is for thinking—brainstorming.”

Milena walked up to the chalkboard. She couldn’t really understand anything on it, but there were a bunch of scribbles of formulas and doodles—figures. “You do a lot of that, then.” She commented.

“Plenty.” Reed agreed, stepping next to her. 

She pointed to a specific formula that seemed to run on forever. “What’s this?”

“I am attempting to solve the multiverse theory. To find a way to travel to different universes.” Reed explained with a wave of his hand. “It is proven they exist. That, perhaps, there is a different version of you and me—a version where you are not a journalist and I, not a scientist, or where I have never become,” He paused, pursing his lips as a melancholic look passed through his eyes, “This.” 

Milena felt a pang in her chest, twisting around her heart at the sight. “That world must be worse off, then.” The words came out on instinct, as if she hadn’t processed saying them. 

“Possibly.” Reed looked at her, eyes narrowed slightly, flickering over her face as if really studying her for the first time. He motioned to the blue section with all of the computers and monitors in the wall. “And this is for monitoring both our planet and deep space. We get a new transmission almost every day.” 

“That’s quite something.” She smiled, eyes flicking over the monitors as she adjusted the strap of her bag as it sat on her shoulder. She had no idea what any of the waves or numbers on the screen meant, but it was cool to see either way. 

Reed noticed her interest. “Would you like to listen to one of the transmissions?” 

“I’m allowed to?” Milena blinked.

“Of course. You’re my guest, you’re allowed to do whatever I say you are.” He responded, already looking for a transmission that was etched into vinyl. He grabbed one from a few days ago. “Here we are. I haven’t listened to this one yet.” He set it on the record player, dropping the needle.

Slowly, a gentle dissonant sound came from the record player, unlike anything Milena had ever heard before. It was strangely calming, the sort of thing that would be playing in a spa. 

“I never thought space would sound so… beautiful.” She hummed, tilting her head slightly as if to listen closer. “Like deep-sea noises.” 

Reed smiled at her observation, slightly impressed she would draw that conclusion. “The ocean and outer space are quite similar. They both emit waves. Although the ocean is made of water, space is made of invisible waves. Such as radio waves, which allow us to get transmissions such as these.” He gestured to the vinyl. 

“I never knew that.” Milena pursed her lips and then shrugged. “Or maybe I did and I forgot. Either way, that’s interesting.” And she meant it.

When Milena was younger, science wasn’t one of her stronger subjects. STEM was where she was weak, but the humanities? Yeah, she aced all those classes. She wrote wonderful, thoughtful book reports that had her classmates jealous. However, Reed was a wonderful teacher, even for the basics.

He began to talk about something else. Something about “parsecs” or “lightyears.” She couldn’t quite remember because her mind was elsewhere—which was royally bad since she was technically working—but she had been thinking about him. Specifically, the fact that he could see color. Yet, seemingly, his soulmate was nowhere to be found. Was it Sue Storm and they had just been lying to keep up appearances? Or was it someone completely different, unknown, that did not wish to be known? Why did she feel a flare of jealousy? 

“Because Proxima Centauri is approximately eighty-six percent smaller than our sun and there are fluctuations in space’s magnetic field, it causes various dramatic increases and decreases of luminosity—”

“When did you start seeing color?” Milena asked suddenly, then tried to soften the blow by adding, “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Reed blinked, actively looking away from her. “A few days ago.” He said evenly. 

Weird. That’s when she began to see color, too. But that had to be a coincidence. 

“How about you?” He retaliated, though there was no malice in his tone. “When did you start seeing color?”

“A few days ago.” Milena crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s kinda funny, actually. I was at that conference you were holding for the recent Red Ghost attack and someone ran into me and, a minute later, I could see color.”

Reed stared at one of the big monitors on the wall. “Interesting. I think I saw that happen.” He glanced sideways at her. “Then, a minute later, I could see color.”

“But that would mean—” Milena scoffed. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. “You’re my soulmate.”

“And you’re mine.” 

That would explain the weird, unfamiliar feelings she had around him. The jealousy although they had never been in a relationship, perhaps in a previous life. The strange familiarity she felt with him. It was funny how she didn’t want to think it would be him. How the simplest, most obvious answer is usually the right one. 

Esha would have a field day with this. 

“But you’re Mr. Fantastic.” Milena said as if that were somehow the reason for her not being his soulmate.

“What happened to Dr. Richards?” He was almost disappointed, though he knew he should have expected she would need to get used to the idea. 

She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I just—” She drew in a sharp breath. “I’m very normal. Very not fantastic.” 

Reed tilted his head and then turned to face her properly. “There’s this theory out there—theory because it is not a proven rule but works in most cases—that soulmates are supposed to complete each other. Not just because they are two halves of a whole but in the sense that one may be great at something the other is not. Not entirely opposites.” Something in him itched to touch her but he wasn’t sure what her threshold for physical intimacy was yet and did not intend to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with. “You are smart in the way that you know how to craft a wonderful story. I do not. I can only write formal research papers. So your ‘normal’ with my ‘fantastic’ seems quite alright with me.” 

“You’ve read my work?” Was the only thing that came from Milena’s mouth. It was the only thing she could think of.

Sure, possibly millions of people read her work every single day. Including superheroes. If not because they got the Daily Bugle regardless, then it was to see what she was writing about them. But Reed Richards? Maybe he was her soulmate because that had her heart doing backflips in her chest. 

“I may have done some research.” Reed felt some heat creeping up his neck. He cleared his throat to try and mask it. “Would you do me the honor of going on a date with me?” 

Milena didn’t answer immediately, although she was compelled to say yes. Mr. Fantastic was everywhere—late-night talk shows, milk cartons, newspapers, TV shows—and she didn’t feel prepared for that kind of publicity. At least when writing articles, her face wasn’t plastered next to the byline. 

But Reed Richards was soft. Composed. Thoughtful. He answered every question she asked, not talking down to her nor dumbing down his terminology. Even if the question was stupid. He was the type of man she could imagine spending the rest of her days with—of making coffee in the morning and dragging him from the lab at night—as she was destined to. 

“I’d like that.”

Notes:

i really think milena and reed are giving adhd independent girlfriend and autistic dependent boyfriend and they're not even really together yet but that's beautiful to me

Chapter 6: Drinking In Sunshine

Summary:

Reed and Milena's first date includes something they both love.

The sun was out, allowing some warmth, although it was a cold, winter day, with snowflakes slowly drifting to the frosty ground. The world seemed calm, with children playing in the snow, parents watching them, and every other passerby holding hot cocoa.

“You alright, Lena? You seem… distracted.” Esha frowned. She sat on Milena’s desk, her Daily Bugle mug cupped in her hands. Instead of coffee, this time it was filled with cocoa. “Are you nervous about your date with Dr. Richards?” She asked in a whisper as if it were top-secret information. 

Milena appreciated it because it probably was. She’d seen the fan-zines. Most Fantastic Four fans either wanted him and Sue to be together or wanted to keep him for themselves, hoping they might be his soulmate. 

She shook her head, rubbing her hand against her face. “I’m not nervous about that. Just… struggling with the article.” She looked at the blinking cursor.

She had the interview itself, the recording, the sound of his voice as he described the potential of technology but something was blocking her from putting it on the page. The angle she was originally going with escaped her. It didn’t seem right anymore. No idea or angle she could come up with seemed to capture the brilliance and humanity of Reed Richards. She had written three sentences, if she could call them sentences. 

Esha glanced at the monitor and looked at Milena with a solemn expression. “Maybe your date will help you relax, gather your thoughts, and come back with a fresh set of eyes.” 

“God knows you need to get laid.” Peter chimed in, his camera strap draped around his neck.

“Don’t say that.” Esha scolded him before she shrugged. “But he’s right. It’s been a while.”

Milena ran a hand through her hair. “Well, sorry, I don’t have two soulmates who can tire me out. I tire myself out well enough.” There was no real malice behind her words, just a bit of frustration with the whole situation. 

Esha pursed her lips and shared a look with Peter. “You should go home early. I can cover for you. You need to relax.”

“That’ll just make me stress out even more.” Milena pointed out. 

She could be quite the workaholic. Something she had in common with Reed. An article couldn’t write itself so, when she couldn’t, she would stress more, pulling an all-nighter just to churn out one paragraph because she’d write and rewrite and throw pages away. It wasn’t sustainable and she was conscious enough to know that but it was just how she was wired. 

Her friends gave her a look that made her shoulders slump. “Fine.”

“And if I get even the slightest intuition you’re trying to work, I’ll send Peter to kick your ass.” Esha scolded.

Peter shrugged with a light smile, “Or to give you a very stern talking to.” When it came to his friends, he didn’t have the heart to be outwardly mean. 

Because of her friends’ advice, Milena went home early. She ignored the whispers of her leatherbound notebook like it were telling her to cast a plague on the world. While the stress of her writing eased, a new sort of stress emerged. 

Figuring out what to wear for her date. 

Reed hadn’t told her where it would be taking place. The Baxter Building? A classic Italian restaurant? Or something completely new and different? Surely, it would be something he knew she’d enjoy, but she wasn’t sure how much he knew about her. It couldn’t have been much; they’d known each other for only a few days. And she’d known of him longer than he’d known of her. 

She rifled through her closet, attempting to find something that could cover all the bases she could think of—warm, dressy but not too formal in case the place they went to was more casual, and something she could move around in. 

A pile of clothes began to form on her bed. A rainbow of colors. 

Life was so much easier when she couldn’t see color. Now she had to actually care about matching her clothes or attempting to find a good pairing.

But life was so much more beautiful with color in her life. Milena ran her thumb over the material of a plaid pair of pants, complete with thin stripes of green. There was so much nuance to color that it astounded her. She would not have known that splash of green was there if she still couldn’t see color. The pants were simply labelled as red. 

With a sigh, Milena pulled on those pants and a simple, tight black sweater. She sat on the edge of her bed as she tugged on heeled black boots. She debated on painting her nails but decided there wouldn’t be enough time. 

As she left her bedroom to grab her trusty trenchcoat and bag, there was a knock on her apartment door. Milena quickly checked her watch. It was seven in the afternoon and, although he had set that time, she didn’t expect him to come exactly at that time. 

She opened the door, greeted with the sight of Reed Nathaniel Richards dressed in a cozy-looking coat, gloves, slacks, and a patterned red tie. But what caught her attention were the flowers in his hands. Chocolate Cosmos.

“How did you know my favorite flower?” Milena was astonished. “And how did you get them? They die in the cold.”

Before color came into her life, they were her favorite for the unique look of the petals and scent. Afterwards, she absolutely loved them for their dark, enchanting color. 

Reed held onto the arrangement a little tighter. “I may have lab-grown them with some modifications and expedited their growth. I suppose I thought you’d like them since they’re grown in Mexico…” He was not quite shy, but not confident either. 

The reality was he had poured himself into researching everything about her. As much as was available, he found. Her mixed heritage being one. Some may call that stalking, but he didn’t find anything that wasn’t already public, so he’d call it being prepared. 

“I’ll, uh, get a vase.” Milena took the flowers from him, “You can come in.” 

Reed followed her into her apartment. “Since they are lab-grown, they will drink less water but last longer.” He informed. 

He took a look around the space. It felt warmer inside there than, say, the Baxter Building, but he attributed that to the warm colors that decorated her apartment. The walls, in the living room at least, were a deep, rusty red adorned with pictures and metal signage from restaurants, roads, or old shops from around town, mixed with Native American tapestries and beadwork. 

Truly a combination of what made her who she was. And Reed was quite eager to learn. 

This place was such a contrast from the Baxter Building. It felt so lived-in. Less sterile. More like home than any place he had ever been before. 

Strange. What a soulmate can open the possibilities to. A life, a feeling, he might not have ever known. 

His eyes narrowed on what could be assumed to be a photo of a smaller, younger Milena and her family. Her hair was down to her shoulders and was smiling brightly, missing a front tooth, with a trophy in hand. A winning soccer trophy. Her family—consisting of a mother, father, and a younger sister—smiled too. 

This was what he couldn’t find in newspapers or through archives. These soft, quiet, but clearly impactful moments that would never make headlines but mattered nonetheless. 

“Alright. We’re good to go.” Milena announced, causing him to turn. “Where are we going, by the way?”

Reed raised an eyebrow. “That, my dear, is a surprise.” He motioned for her to leave the apartment first. “But I have a feeling you’ll love it.”

When Milena locked her door and they began walking to wherever it was he had planned, Reed kept a hand hovering over the small of her back. An unconscious move he wasn’t aware of. But any bystander, without knowing who either were, could assume they had been together for years. When, in reality, they weren’t in any relationship quite yet. 

“It’s the Planetarium?” Milena asked excitedly just outside the walls, a wide-eyed sort of wonder already in her eyes. “How’d you know?”

Reed smiled, happy he could make her happy. “There are space pins on your bag.” It was something he’d noticed right away—pins of cartoon rocket ships, Neptune, Saturn, and Jupiter all decorated her bag. 

“Right.” She pursed her lips, almost feeling dumb, but happy he was paying attention enough to notice such a thing. 

Friends had only ever noticed these things before. Sure, people had flirted with her, but Milena had no interest in anyone. For the longest time, she believed she was destined to be alone. There was no way she was finding her soulmate. 

Until she did. And all those things she thought about doing became more solid than wishes. 

As they entered the Planetarium, Reed showed the attendant their tickets, and he watched Milena as she looked around in awe at the large recreations of the Sun and the solar system. 

She pulled Reed over to the Jupiter exhibit. The sphere in the center even turned. “Jupiter is the largest planet in our solar system, but it’s not the brightest. It’s the third brightest! Venus is first, partly because it’s closer to Earth, and then Mars is second. But Jupiter is really pretty.” Milena gazed at the recreation. 

While science wasn’t her forte, she loved the idea of space. But specifically, the planets. How different, even in black and white, they all looked. Saturn’s rings, Jupiter and Neptune’s storms, the cracked surface of Venus, and the snow peaks at Mars’ poles. 

“But you must already know that.” Milena smiled shyly.

Reed gazed at her. “I don’t mind hearing it from you. It bears repeating sometimes.” He nodded towards the sphere. “Why do you like Jupiter?” 

“I guess I’ve just really been drawn to the sort of mythos around it.” Milena chuckled. “In ancient Rome, Jupiter was the name of their version of Zeus. The God of all Gods. There has to be a reason a planet was named after him besides the obvious.”

“Which is?”

“That it’s fucking huge.” 

Reed followed Milena around, listening to her tangents and fun facts of things he already knew, but that didn’t matter. It was the sound of her voice that made him more interested, how there was a clear excitement in her tone when she talked about something she liked. 

It made his stomach flip—not uncomfortably, because he remembered to eat that morning—but in a way that also had his heart feel full.

When they entered the comets and asteroids section, a group of children were also there. For a field trip. Their teacher seemed to be re-lecturing them about a concept they learned in class—the difference between a meteoroid, a meteor, an asteroid, and a comet. 

A few children recognized Reed and left their class to go up to him. “Excuse me,” A little boy said, “Are you Mr. Fantastic?” 

Reed gave Milena a slightly apologetic look before he crouched down before the children and nodded. “Why, yes, I am. Is someone causing trouble?” It was clear he had some experience with children. 

“No, no!” A girl adamantly denied with a giggle. “We just wanted to see you stretch!” They had no real concept of the brilliance in front of them, beside the Sunday morning cartoon. 

“Oh, well, that can take quite a bit of energy, you know.” Reed said politely. Not outright denying the request.

A second boy pouted, impatient, “Well, do you have the energy now?”

Milena stood off to the side and watched Reed interact with the children, a soft look in her eyes, though the rest of her face remained passive. He was gentle, careful with them, like he knew, one day, one of them would become him. To deny their curiosity would be turning away an opportunity for them to learn. 

The young mind was impressionable. He couldn’t turn them down, knowing how important it was to nurture their brains rather than shun them. Even if some were a little bossy. 

“Alright. A small demonstration.” Reed caved and stood to his full height. The children cheered as he looked around for something to grab.

He noticed Milena and how her eyes gravitated toward a piece of a meteor encased in glass. She was just a few feet away, but the perfect distance to show off his abilities to the children without drawing a crowd. 

Outstretching his arm, it wrapped around Milena’s waist and pulled her close. She blinked as the children cheered and quickly went back to their class before they were left behind, whispering to themselves about his show of power. 

“I thought you didn’t use your abilities day-to-day.” She wasn’t accusing, just teasing. Though there was a hint of blush on her cheeks from the way he grabbed her, 

“I don’t, but the kids wanted to see it.” Reed said matter-of-factly, not even catching on to how his actions could be perceived. “I apologize if you didn’t want me to touch you.” His hand completely left her waist. 

Milena stared at Reed a moment. He had to have gotten specially tailored clothes for them to move when he stretched. “No, it’s okay.” She didn’t want to admit the way her insides felt when he touched her, even when separated by layers of clothes, she felt warmer. 

The rest of their time at the planetarium was filled with a little more closeness, more intimacy than before, and some fun facts from Reed every so often. After all, he had gone to space a few times, and his perspective was more than interesting. 

How big, yet so tiny the Earth looked from so far away compared to the vastness of space, glittering with faraway stars like a black gown dripping in diamonds. It was beautiful but terrifying, like most beautiful things were. 

At least the truly breathtaking ones. 

When they stepped out into the night, they both looked up at the inky black sky. There was more to it than that, though. It wasn’t quite black, but a deep shade of blue more akin to the velvet of a nice evening dress. Their shared breath was visible from the cold air but quickly disappeared as it floated upwards.

 “It’s crazy to think how small we are.” Milena hummed, her eyes reflected the stars.

“Yes,” Reed looked at her, “But, simply by being born, we have fundamentally changed the universe. Don’t underestimate your impact.” 

Milena let out a soft huff, looking down at her shoes. He wasn’t trying to flirt, she could tell by the almost indifferent way he said it as if it were fact. Because it was. Yet it still made her face heat.

Reed pursed his lips. He needed to go for it, like Johnny said. Well, Ben and Sue said it too. “There’s a cafe still open. More of a bistro. It’s a few blocks away. Would you… have dinner with me?”

Milena looked up. Surprise was written all over her face. “Oh, uh… yes.” She was astonished that he'd want to continue their night together. 

“Good. That’s… good.” Right? 

This, somehow, felt more stressful than telling Ben how to get out of the asteroid belt. But Reed always struggled with manners of the heart rather than the head. Miraculously, he was doing well so far.

Perhaps it had something to do with their shared stardust. 

Notes:

oh they both like space but for different reasons... crazy... who could have predicted this...

Chapter 7: Presented in Technicolor!

Summary:

Milena published her article and shares a quiet moment with Reed in the aftermath.

Maybe Esha was right. Maybe that date, as much of a conflict of interest as it was, was the perfect way to get Milena to relax and, eventually, finish the article in a flurry of fingers on her typewriter the next morning.

The date was perfect. More than perfect. When they arrived at the bistro, almost no one was there. It was dimly lit with some extra brightness coming from the few candles on each table. Reed, ever the gentleman, pulled her seat out for her and asked questions. Genuine questions. Eyes calm, steady, but clearly yearning for every bit of information she could give him. 

“What made you want to become a journalist?” Reed had asked some time after they got their entrees. It seemed like he had been wanting to ask that for a bit. He was just working up the nerve.

A simple question, really. But a complex answer. 

Milena stared at the condensation dripping from her cocktail glass. The candlelight danced in the reflection, an orange wave among the deep umber color of the liquid. “I like the thrill, I suppose. I like exposing the truth when others would rather hide it,” Her eyes flicked up towards his face. He was still watching, attentive. “And I also wanted to show the press is for everyone. Anyone could be a part of it just like anyone could read it. People forget that.” Her fingers absentmindedly traced the length of her beveled glass. 

“I suppose that’s something we have in common, then.” He stated. As if it were nothing. As if it didn’t mean anything. 

But it meant everything. A drop into the ocean of who Reed Richards truly was.

So, when Milena woke up the next morning, she realized what her angle would be. The man was brilliant, sure, but he was also so brilliantly human. He just didn’t seem like it at first, whether because of his seeming indifference or the celebrity status he now holds. No, he wasn’t a cold, unfeeling man some may think he was. Quite the opposite. He just masked those emotions. Didn’t wear them on his sleeve. His eyes told a different story, softening or narrowing just enough that a normal person wouldn’t realize his expression had changed at all. 

She noticed. She noticed more than she let on.

One of the reasons she was such a good journalist, besides her obviously good writing skills, was because she had such a sharp eye. 

“Can you believe it, Lena? Front page!” Esha said animatedly, holding up the day’s issue of the Daily Bugle. Her blouse is yellow and bright, much like her. “‘A Look Past Mr. Fantastic Into Reed Richards.’ What a title!”

Milena chuckled, amused. Her elbow was on her desk, face pushed into the palm of her hand. “Thanks, Esha.”

As many times as Milena had a front page article, Esha celebrated like it was the first. A good quality to have in a friend. 

“Sánchez! In my office!” Jameson’s booming voice yelled.

Ah, well, all calm moments must come to an end. Especially while working at the Daily Bugle. 

She sighed softly and stood from her desk, rubbing Esha’s arm and smiling as Peter walked in—looking flushed either from his night job or by his other soulmate—on her way to Jameson’s office. 

Sinking into the seat across from his large mahogany desk, Milena folded her hands. “Yes, sir?”

He took a puff from his cigar, letting the smoke leave his mouth as he talked. “I want you to focus on the Fantastic Four, no other supes. Clearly, you’re good at writing them.”

“But, sir—”  Sure, that was a compliment but it felt backhanded. As much as she liked writing the article about Reed she wasn’t sure she’d want to write about him all the time. Then her pieces would become rigid and stale.

And she couldn’t admit to being Reed’s soulmate. No, that has to be secret. For now. 

“No ‘buts.’” He said sternly, then let out a breath. Softening. "You’re a damn good writer, ‘specially with these guys. And it won’t be just their superhero stuff I want you to cover. You’re gonna be covering the Future Foundation too.” 

Well, that was better. It would give her much more to work with. He must’ve known she would have been disappointed. That’s how he always was. Caring, but it was hidden under a hot-head façade. 

The rest of the day went by fine. Parker only had to leave once for his “extracurricular activities” as Milena and Esha called them. There was a robbery around the corner, but Spider-Man caught the culprits. 

Milena sighed as she came home, the lock jingling slightly before she pushed it closed, dropped her bag, and hung up her coat. Only then did she register the burnt smell wafting from her kitchen and the soft clinking of dishes. 

Someone was in her house.

As a New Yorker, and previous LA native, she didn’t panic. She reached for a machete behind the table that was right next to the door, held it tight when she peaked around the corner. 

There was Reed Richards, sleeves rolled over his elbow, tie tucked into his shirt, attempting to make something. Whatever it was, was burnt to a crisp. There was a pinch between his brows, more confused than she had ever seen him. 

Gently, she set her machete down and stood in the arch to the kitchen. “How’d you get in here?” Milena crossed her arms. She should have been annoyed, angry even, but she couldn’t bring herself to be.

Reed’s head perked towards her, a small frown at the edges of his lips. “I picked the lock.” He said simply as he ran the blackened pan under cold water. “An easy mechanism, perhaps you should get a better one. I was thinking about talking to the landlord so I could replace them myself.”

When he turned back, Milena was closer than he anticipated. “What was that?” She glanced at the crisp in the sink.

“It was supposed to be dinner.” He murmured, almost shy as he couldn’t meet her eyes. “I thought I had finally figured out the perfect heat but your stove must be different than the one at the Baxter Building.”

Milena raised an eyebrow. Playful, not mad. “It’s okay,” She turned, hair flowing like a waterfall behind her, “I was gonna get takeout originally anyway.” Opening a drawer, she grabbed a few to-go menus. 

It was peculiar. How there was no scolding, she just took the information and pivoted. Even Sue would get a little mad, irritated by the burning smell and the ruined cookware, though she knew he attempted with good intentions. 

Now that he could see color, he had realized Sue was built with cold colors. Nearly platinum hair, light skin, and icy blue eyes that could cut through glass. He had once enjoyed it, the chill that ran through him when they kissed so long ago. 

Milena was the opposite, with hair that appeared like a dark chocolate ganache slipping from a spoon in thick ribbons, skin the shade of medium roast coffee beans, and eyes that held an entire meadow’s ecosystem inside them. Warm. A warmth that could be infectious. He never wanted to find a cure. 

They settled in the living room, letting Reed get a better glimpse of Milena when she wasn’t performing as a fearless journalist in the comfort of her own home as they waited for the food to arrive. Every little twitch, every move, every grin she hid or didn’t hide felt like one more step to really knowing her. Really seeing her. He drank it up like a thirsty man in the desert. 

“So why are you here?” She asked, legs bent beneath her torso, facing him to give him her full attention. 

The same way she sat when interviewing him. Something different this time. More comfortable. More laid-back. An unguarded curiosity behind her words compared to the sharp inquisitiveness she had while essentially asking him if he felt like a failure because he attracted powerful beings to their world like a beacon in the night. 

Reed had his hands in his lap. “Johnny is having people over.” He stated.

“So?” She pressed. Not hard. Light, leaving a foot in the crack of the door. 

“We know not to be home when he has people over.” He felt a light heat creeping onto his face. 

“Oh.” Milena caught onto the meaning behind his words. “So you came here.”

Reed was suddenly very interested in the distressed rug beneath his feet. “I would have gone to the lab, but Sue said I shouldn’t.” He said as an explanation. 

She hummed in response. A soft, simple sound that made his heart jump.

Emotions were funny things. Unpredictable and volatile which were integral to the human experience. He knew that. Stowed them away anyway. She had cracked his purposefully prickly exterior open, sweet juices seeping from his insides. He waited for her to take a bite.

She didn’t on their date. There was a chance she would tonight. A strong chance. 

The food arrived not much later after their conversation. They collectively agreed on an Italian place from the Lower East Side. Milena set the food—their pasta and an order of breadsticks—on the coffee table and then made her way back into the kitchen. 

“Red or white?” She called to him.

“Red.” He responded. Red wine was a classic pairing with pasta. Or that’s what he’d heard. 

She came back with a bottle in one hand, two glasses in the other, stems tucked between her fingers. She set them on the table, uncorked the bottle and poured a healthy amount into each glass. 

Was this the color of blood? Deep in tone, thrumming with life. He needed to test that hypothesis later. 

Reed took a tentative smell, pleased by the aromatics before he took a sip. Color seemingly exploded on his tongue.

“That good, huh?” Milena smiled, a smug thing that hung from her lips in a crooked way.

“Yes. It is.” He could count good wine selections as one of many things that he didn’t expect from her. 

Some idle chatter began as they started eating. He had asked about her day and she got into a rant about her job and that her boss—the ever loud J. Jonah Jameson he’d heard of—that stuck her with writing about him. He could tell that wasn’t the only thing, though. It was the idea of being restrained, chained down, that had her frustrated. 

Her hair, now messy from her running her hands through it, was like the sun’s magnetic waves connecting one sunspot to another. He decided he liked the look on her. Domesticity. 

He’d never thought about it much. Maybe when he was young and his hopes for a soulmate were still somehow within his grasp or sometime when he and Sue tried to have a relationship. That was long ago. 

Seeing it is easier with Milena in the picture. 

Somehow, he’s sure she’d wake up earlier than him with coffee already on the pot with a steaming mug set aside for him, dressed, maybe even helping Ben and Herbie in the kitchen for breakfast before she’d wrap up a bagel sandwich to eat on the way to work and kiss his cheek on the way out. 

“You got something.” Milena motioned towards her cheek.

Reed grabbed a napkin and swiped at nothing. “Did I get it?”

She shook her head and did something he could have never seen coming. She licked the pad of her thumb—a tantalizing peek at her tongue—and wiped it against the smear of tomato sauce just outside the perimeter of his mustache. 

She was so close. So close he could see the flecks of gold and brown in her hazel eyes, the small clumps of mascara on her eyelashes, the light crinkles that would deepen when she smiled, and smell an aroma of grapefruit and bergamot that hit him like some sort of aphrodisiac. Perhaps it was the wine. But that was just a lie he could tell himself. It was her. All her and her beautifully blemished skin.

Without thinking, which was something he rarely ever did, he caught her lips in a kiss when she was about to pull away. Milena went rigid at first, surprised, but slowly melted into him. Reed tried to be a gentleman. Let her make the first move towards physical contact, but he couldn’t help it anymore. 

The wine they shared somehow tasted richer on her lips, her tongue, than his own. Their noses, both aquiline, bumped against one another in the sweetest way. His hand slid up her neck, palm on her cheek to hold her steady. Similarly, her hand landed on his shoulder, fingers lightly twisting the fabric of his shirt. 

Here she was, finally drinking the fruits of her labor. Devouring it as rivers of scarlet dripped down her chin and neck, running underneath the collar of her sweater. Carnage, but oh-so-sweet. 

Milena pulled away for breath, lips parted and lightly swollen as they glistened, hair more tousled than before. He imagined he didn’t look much better. 

“Needed that?” She asked, a breath escaping her. Her expression was tinged with pride.

“Yeah.” Reed sighed like he’d just drank a gallon of water.

“Good. I needed it too.” She whispered before diving in for another, breath-stealing kiss. 

Notes:

i swear to god i was not doing sue slander, this chapter is just partly in reed's pov and he's autistic okay

anyway i feel it in my bones pedro is watching superman sometime this week and i hope he enjoys it
it made me cry like a baby

and if some parts of this were inspired by superman so what? mind your business.

Chapter 8: Stupid Cupid, Stop Picking On Me!

Summary:

Milena and Reed have another date in the wake of the article being released.

The article had been out for nearly a week and Reed knew Milena was awaiting his reaction. He could read her like a novel misunderstood by most, but loved by few. 

What was his reaction? Positive? Negative? Indifferent?

When he was in bed a week ago, reading the newspaper, he had to reread her article a few times. That feeling in his chest began again. And Milena was nowhere in sight. Perhaps it was the idea of her—of these being her words rather than anyone else’s—that made him feel this way. 

“Dr. Richards has all the qualities one would expect of any scientist. He’s in the lab from the late night to the early morning, obsessing over getting a project done while foregoing human needs like sleep or sustenance. 

The difference between him and the expectation of him is that he is not as cold or aloof as he appears. His expression may remain blank but his eyes tell a different story. That he cares. He cares so much—too much—so he can save us before bad things ever happen. He has not put that pressure on himself because he had to but because he wanted to.

If you can do something to prevent a disaster from happening, do you not have a duty to prevent it? Not everyone with money or power sees the world this way. 

A true hero in every sense of the word.”

Reed looked at the wall across from his bed, face blank but eyes soft. They stung. Tears hadn’t even welled up yet, but they would if he thought too much about Milena’s written word.

He cares—too much.

If you can do something to prevent a disaster from happening, do you not have a duty to prevent it?

A true hero in every sense of the word.

They echoed in his head like he was trapped in a bell, resonating in his skull. 

Somehow, she had managed to capture exactly how he felt in fewer words than he could describe his line of thought himself. She was the writer, after all.

He had the money. He had the power—both literally and politically. He had the resources. He could make those resources himself. The entire reason he became a scientist was to help, to explore different possibilities to solutions. His abilities only enhanced that want, that need, to help. Not because he wanted to be hailed a savior, but because he couldn’t imagine not attempting to save those in need if he was capable.

Is it not the duty of those in power to do all they can to better the lives of those less fortunate than them? 

Perhaps it is. They have just forgotten. Or actively ignore their own duty. A concept he could never understand. 

“‘A true hero in every sense of the word.’ It’s a wonder you two haven’t fucked yet.” Johnny laughed as he read the newspaper at the dinner table. Now, breakfast table. 

Ben had made a classic assortment of fried eggs, bacon, toast, for no particular reason Reed could discern. There was no occasion. 

Sue rolled her eyes at Johnny’s comment but smiled nonetheless. True older sister behavior. 

Reed speared a slice of sausage with his fork. “I am going at a pace that feels natural. I can’t help that it’s slower than most.” He wasn’t defensive. There was no need to prove himself to Johnny. Just cautiousness. 

“I think it’s good you’re takin’ your time. Compared to others, who just jump into things.” Ben smiled softly.

“Johnny.” Sue pointed out, arching a brow.

“Hey! They’re hot! What do you want me to do?” Johnny exclaimed. 

Ben leaned over to Reed as the Storm sibling bickered. “I just hope you’re actually enjoying your time with her. Instead of being stuck up on all the details.” He stared at his friend, eyes narrowing. 

“I’m trying.” Reed mustered up a smile. It turned softer when he remembered the look in Milena’s eyes at the planetarium. “She makes it easy.”

“Good.” Ben patted his friend’s shoulder, careful not to make it too forceful.

Now, under a billion shining stars under the night sky, he sat atop Milena's apartment building with her next to him. They sat close, a blanket under their bodies, pillows for comfort, and an insulated picnic basket beside him. 

It was his idea. He wasn't sure if the view was better here than the Baxter Building because it was mostly antennae and other science instruments. Not here. 

Reed pointed at the sky, mapping the stars with the tip of his finger. “That is Orion. It consists of two of the brightest stars. Rigel, on the lower right of his skirt, and Betelgeuse, on the upper left of his torso.” He turned his head to look at Milena, only to find her looking at him. 

It was strange. To be the center of one's universe. Not loud or rough, but quiet and gentle. Not the birth or death of a star, but the soft waves that took up empty space. 

“You're not looking.” He said softly. Only a little chastising. 

She kept staring. At him. “Sorry.” She wasn't. “It's just… your eyes reflect the stars beautifully.” 

Thank the stars it was dark, because Reed felt his face heat. A simple compliment, really. But one he had not been paid before. Ever. 

“Well, uh, thank you.” He stammered slightly. He could never get used to anyone being so forward with him in such a way. 

He quickly went back to naming constellations, stars, and planets. Some of which he had seen up close more than anyone. Except for three other people. Humans. 

Even Reed knew it wasn't fair to say he discovered them. They were inhabited with life very similar, yet not at all, to life on Earth. However, it was new to him. To his world. Does a discovery mean finding something that already existed, but he had not known? It was hard to say. 

When they began to eat, Reed handed Milena a container of butternut squash soup. It was cold, moving on from November to the depths of December, so regular picnic food didn't seem to be applicable. 

“I didn't make it. I had a friend do it. He's much better at cooking than I am.” He admitted as he opened his own container. 

“Well, we all have flaws. Glad to hear you didn't burn another pan.” She smiled, breathing in the scent of the aromatic golden delicacy. Then she shoveled a spoonful into her mouth and practically melted. “This is so delicious.”

“I'm inclined to agree.” He chuckled after his own spoonful. 

One of many things Reed appreciated about Milena was just how comfortable she was in her own skin. She dressed up, wore makeup, because she wanted to. Not because she had to. And, unlike other women who would rather eat almost nothing for the appearance of femininity and grace, she ate food like any other human would. An area he lacked in. 

He’s in the lab from the late night to the early morning, obsessing over getting a project done while foregoing human needs like sleep or sustenance. 

She’d brought it up in the article. He wasn’t quite sure he liked his flaws being told to the public, but he knew his flaws were the best way to show others that he was human. He had areas in which he didn’t excel in. Many, if he was honest. 

Cooking was one he could never get down properly. It was embarrassing. He was a grown man; he shouldn’t mess up a recipe as simple as a grilled cheese, yet he had. Many times, in fact. 

It was more of an art. He couldn’t overthink, but he always did, causing most things he tried to make to end up more like mush or a black, inedible lump. 

“I was meaning to ask,” Reed set his container to the side, “Why do you like space?” 

Milena was in the middle of another bite, quickly swallowing it and wiping her face in case there was any on the corners of her mouth. “I guess I’m just fascinated by the beauty of it.” She glanced up at the stars. “How there are big hot balls of gas that would be scary up close but look so gorgeous from far away.”

“Two seemingly opposite truths can exist at the same time.” He hummed.

He’d seen the sun up close. Had seen technology he created ripped to pieces as its gravity pulled it closer and closer until it exploded on the surface. 

But so alluring, the churning of gas on the surface. A million little explosions at once. Dangerous, sure, and the source of so much life. Warmth that trickled down to Earth, helping plants grow, seeping into the skin of every person on the planet, creating energy to use for a lifetime.  

Finishing up their soups, Reed noticed Milena’s stare gravitated towards the moon. It was full that night, the perfect complement to the chilly air and bright glittering stars. 

“Would you like to go to the moon?” He looked at her, taking in the sight of the moonlight on the curves of her face. A soft halo. 

Milena snapped her head towards him. “What do you mean? Is that something you can just do?” She raised an eyebrow at him. Did she not have to undergo thousands of tests to make sure she could withstand the g-force on the way out of the atmosphere?

“I would have to prepare, get the flight accepted, but yes. It is something I can just do.” Reed gently nudged his shoulder against hers, the faintest of smiles at the edges of his lips. 

She wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pecked his cheek, rendering him speechless. The scent of cinnamon and burnt oak kissed her skin. He breathed her in like it was the natural state of the air. 

“As much as I would love that, I don’t think that’s going to happen anytime soon.” Milena chuckled. 

“Well, uh…” He got lost in the happiness etched into her face. “Whenever you’d like, the offer is open.” 

She smiled softly in return. “Good.” 

A kiss to his lips and he melted, shoulders sagging like she was transferring some of her calm to him. Or maybe he was transferring all his fears to her. So they could carry them together. 

And that was terrifying. Every time he looked at her, he couldn’t help loving her. He hadn’t said it aloud yet, he didn’t have the words to describe what he felt. Consuming his whole body and mind. 

The weeks or days or hours or minutes they didn’t see each other were filled with wondering what she was doing. Was she safe? Did she style her hair differently? What was she writing about? Did she wear something new? Was Esha bothering her about the details of their date? Had she told anyone else? Did she think about him? Did she love him the way he loved her? 

Even as soulmates, it wasn’t a guarantee that they would end up together. But he felt the pull to her. Two opposing charges, attracting each other. 

The terrifying thought that he would do anything just to be with her. Kill a hundred men. Sacrifice a thousand suns. Eat anything at her feet. 

But Milena was a merciless god. If she wasn't, maybe he wouldn’t be as quick to offer himself to her. 

Notes:

who knew that reading poetry and books would make your own writing better? certainly not me!

jk i love finding inspiration from other people.

in other news, i love writing reed richards as an autistic that has a strong sense of justice

Chapter 9: Not So Blue

Summary:

Family dinner at the Baxter Building leads to a few discoveries.

Reed Richards had no biological family living, as far as he was concerned. His family was his team. They had dinner every single night at 7 o’clock sharp, occasionally having breakfast and lunch if their schedules allowed. 

So, having Milena meet his family did not consist of driving somewhere in the New York suburbs to be greeted warmly by a mother and father that no longer existed, but of another trip to the Baxter Building. No longer confined to the lab but to their living quarters. Less sterile, still colorful and bright.

Reed met Milena at the elevator as it opened, pecking her lips in a greeting before he even took in her appearance. She wore a brown sweater that had no right making her look warmer than ever and some slacks that flared at the bottom in a yellow-orangish color. 

Then he noticed the bottle of wine in her hands. Another nicely aged, deep red wine. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” He gently took the wine from her.

“I wanted to.” She said simply.

He didn’t argue more. Just the idea that she wanted to give him something, him and his friends, spoke a thousand words. Why would he deny it? 

He kissed her again, a hand on her bicep. It felt natural, though he could count the number of times they’d kissed in single digits. “Thank you, then.” He whispered, a rasp that was softer than he intended.

“Just being a good houseguest.” She shouldered off her coat and folded it over her arm, holding it close. 

Milena took in Reed’s appearance in exchange. He was significantly softer than usual. Foregoing his sharply tailored blazers and intricately designed ties, he wore a brown cardigan over a white button-up. 

As she followed him to the kitchen, only a few steps away, she took in the sweeping architecture—the light wooden floors that traveled up the walls, the large windows that gave way to a balcony, the large conversation pit with blue carpet and upholstery that almost matched, and a fireplace with a television on the other side that swept down from the ceiling, connected to the ground. Stylish and sleek.

Reed’s hand slid to the small of her back. Not grabbing or hovering—like it had before—just sitting and waiting. 

Ben was in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on dinner. From what she could tell, it was just a bit of extra salt on a plate of roasted vegetables.

“This is Milena.” Reed said, catching his friend’s attention. “She brought us wine.” He handed it over to Ben.

The rocky man smiled. “This’ll pair nicely with the ham.” The bottle looked small in his large hand, more like a beer. He set it down and opened his arms. “You’re practically already family with the way Reed talks about you.”

Milena didn’t hesitate to hug Ben. He was surprisingly comfortable, probably due to his layers of clothes. “All good things, I hope.”

“I would be incapable of saying anything bad.” Reed said seriously.

“Like I said. Lovesick.” Ben teased, rubbing Milena’s back as they pulled away. She laughed.

She wasn’t nervous at all. She was basically meeting his entire family all in one night and she’d heard stories of families, somehow, not accepting of their child’s soulmate. She covered those stories herself. As much as the world wanted to be one without borders or discrimination, as much as government officials and those in power wanted to parade themselves as accepting, they were not. 

Rich families didn’t want their child to have a soulmate from a poor family, a non-socialite family, a non-white family.

Even when two people were made to complement one another, the people around them still wanted to police that connection, tell them what could or could not be. 

She remembered a story she covered in LA. A young rich woman, who was white, came across her soulmate, a working-class young man, who was Mexican and crossed a country to meet the love of his life. Her family wanted her to reject him or they’d disown her. Instead of letting them make the choice for them, the couple made their own choice.

She took as much money as she could and they ran away together. 

This was not that. She didn’t feel even an inkling it would become that. And she was never happier that story was not her and her soulmate. 

Ben moved to the dinner table, setting the vegetable tray and wine down.

“You know, I don’t think Reed said quite how beautiful you were.” Sue appeared, causing Milena to jump slightly. 

Right, she nearly forgot the Invisible Woman could do that. 

Reed flushed, “It’s hard to describe.”

“Not really.” Sue chuckled and turned to Milena again, taking her hands. “In case this one doesn’t tell you enough,” she nodded towards Reed, “you’re absolutely gorgeous.” 

Milena shrugged, a lop-sided smile on her face. “He does. In his own way.” 

“Well, I'm certainly glad he's invited you to dinner. I've been dying to meet you.” Sue grinned. 

As they sat down for dinner—a beautiful ensemble of roasted ham, vegetables, and mac and cheese—Herbie rang a bell. There were two missing spots at the table. 

“Sorry we're late!” Johnny said frantically, pulling someone along with him. 

Peter Parker. 

Milena blinked. Her friend Peter Parker. She knew he, Esha, and Johnny were soulmates but she wasn't expecting to see him. Here. At the same time she was supposed to be meeting the family. 

“Right, Milena, Peter. Peter, Milena.” Johnny quickly introduced them both before he grabbed a healthy helping of mac and cheese. 

Sue speared a piece of asparagus. “Peter has dinner with us every Friday. Esha, who is Johnny's other soulmate, sometimes too. Where is she by the way?” She asked Johnny.

Johnny spoke with his mouth full, “At a conference or something. Important political shit.”

Right. Esha was at a charity gala, taking notes on the Mayor’s policies and how said gala supported them. 

Though, it could be confused for a conference the way Esha described it. Like it was boring, just watching rich socialites talk about how great they were for supporting a cause. Any cause. 

“We actually—” Peter started.

“We know each other.” Milena finished. 

Almost as soon as dinner started, it stopped. Utensils stopped moving, Johnny even stopped chewing. 

“We both work for the Daily Planet. Peter’s my photographer most days when he's not… busy.” Milena said carefully, unsure if Peter had told the team his night job. 

Johnny swallowed, “So you know he's Spider-Man?”

Sue and Ben yelled at him, “Johnny!” 

“What if she didn't know?” Ben hissed. 

Johnny shrugged, shoveling a piece of ham in his mouth while Peter laughed nervously. 

“Did you know they knew each other?” Sue asked Reed, not quite pointed but something similar.

He tilted his head. “It's not hard to assume two people who work at the Daily Bugle would know each other.” He uncorked the bottle of wine and poured some for himself and Milena. 

Dinner after that went without a hitch. Milena noticed how relaxed Peter had become, that almost never happened. He was a nervous nelly. Not with Johnny and his family. It made her smile. Though, she probably would have hated it if Esha was there cause then they'd be a lovesick mess together. Cute, but disgustingly so. 

As dinner wound down, Herbie picked up plates, and the family went their separate ways. Milena wandered out to the balcony, looking across the New York skyline. 

“You're in your head.” Reed commented, voice soft as he wrapped an arm around her waist and stepped next to her. “Do you mind letting me in?” 

“It's… hard to explain.” She murmured. “I guess I've just felt… good.” But it was so much more than that. “And confused. You're my soulmate. Obviously. But I feel like I've been waiting forever and sometimes I'm not sure I deserve you.”

Reed gently slid his hand up her shoulder, asking permission with his eyes which she gave with a nod. “I get what you mean,” He took a step closer to the point she could feel his breath on her face, “Some days I think I may have invented you. That I may have whispered your name in some dark corner of a room and you came into being in that very moment. With skin and hair and eyes the color of the Earth and a soul as bright as the sun.” He brushed a few hairs away from her face, fingertips curling softly around her ear as his thumb caressed the hollow of her cheek. 

For a moment, though it felt longer, Milena couldn’t breathe. Not suffocating, nothing weighing against her chest, but struck by the sheer sincerity of his words. He may not have identified as a poet but he sure sounded like one. 

“But I’m real. We’re real. Flesh and blood. Not a dream.” She eventually said. Her hands naturally found the curves of his waist. 

“Yes,” Reed leaned close and pressed a barely-there kiss to the corner of her mouth, “We are. And isn’t that grand?” 

It meant they could kiss, could touch, could feel every bump, dip, valley, blemish, and the lightest of hairs on each other. They could make the blood of two join together as one. 

But that would have to wait for another day. A more important day, when both were more than willing and they had talked more about what they wanted from each other. And, as much as people may not want others to think, relationships took work. Even the most beautiful, easy ones did too. 

Milena turned her head to press a kiss to the palm of Reed’s hand. “Maybe you should meet my family, too. Call it even.” She shrugged, “But I do have to say we are not as organized as you are.” 

“I’m sure I can handle it.” He assured.

She cocked an eyebrow. Clearly not convinced. 

Her family was loud, boisterous, had cackles rather than simple laughs or feminine giggles. Dinners usually consisted of loud gossip, completely different from person to person, as dinner was being made. Women who chatted as they made frybread in oil or flipped tortillas and chiles on an open flame. Men who drank beer and watched over the grill as their kill of the day sizzled. 

Her sister, Kyona, who chopped vegetables with practiced ease, not sparing a glance downward as she chatted with friends and occasionally stopped to sip a drink or yell at the young children of their cousins as they got too rowdy playing cowboys. 

She could only imagine Reed in that situation as quiet, half-heartedly nodding along to one of her aunties attempting to flirt while he was completely and utterly overstimulated by the sights, sounds, and smells whirling in her family home. 

It could be a lot. Even for her. She was always the quiet one of her family. It was a wonder some of her readers thought she was an extrovert given how outspoken she was.

Reed could tell what was on her mind. “I won’t deny, I do appreciate a more… calm family dinner.” Was that the right word? “But If you think I should meet them, regardless, I will.” 

“Maybe not dinner, then.” Milena hummed. 

“What else would your family do?” He asked, inquisitive. Didn’t most parents meet their child’s soulmate through a dinner? 

She slid a hand up Reed’s chest, curling her fingers on the perch of his shoulder. “Nothing in New York, that’s for sure.”

Notes:

does this even make sense? i have no fucking clue

trust you will be seeing a little of overstimulated reed richards in the future (yes in that way too)

Chapter 10: Chrome Lining

Summary:

Reed learns something new about Milena in the aftermath of another destroyed Fantasticar

Another day. Another fight. 

Which meant another time the Fantasticar was almost destroyed. The chassis was destroyed by acid made by Diablo and his ever-enduring curiosity for alchemy. 

Reed wouldn't hate him as much if the alchemist wasn't evil. Well, that would be a lot of other people too. 

Although, Mole Man, or Dr. Elder, still got on his nerves and he didn't cause chaos anymore. Though, it was a mutual distaste. 

Either way, Reed was in the garage, attempting to find some way to salvage the car before simply making a new one. He could replace the chassis with another. One made with a stronger, acid resistant metal. That seemed plausible. Though, that would take some time. Lots of work. Not unwilling, but certainly skeptical if it was worth it. 

He scratched at his cheek, eyes scanning over the notes he'd taken and the small sketches he'd made. He was by no means an artist but the only thing that mattered was that he could understand what he meant. 

“Reed?” Was that a ghost? Had he been in the lab too long? When was the last time he checked his watch? “Reed?” The voice was more insistent. “Hey, sweetheart, you okay?” A warm hand slid up his back. 

Wait. Not a ghost. Milena. 

He looked at her, meaning to greet her but quickly became speechless. 

Milena was not dressed in her usual clothes. Oh, no. No sweater or patterned pants or beautiful A-line dress. This time she wore denim jeans that flared over worn boots and a button-up Western style shirt in red that was unbuttoned just enough that he could see the white tank top underneath. 

What really stole the show was her hair. He had only ever seen it down, flowing over her shoulders and curling outwards. He'd seen it neat. He'd seen it messy. Now, however, it was up. In a bun complete with thin braids and a bandana that acted like a headband. 

Was this the appeal of Rosie the Riveter come to life? It had to be. Or some Aztec God who came down from the Heavens just to experience what life would be like as a human woman. 

Looking closer, Reed noticed a spike coming out of the septum from her nose. A tradition many indigenous individuals from all over the world had were body adornments. Piercings, scarrings, tattoos, or even specific hairstyles. Most notable were the ornaments worn in the nose or mouth. 

He may or may not have been brushing up on Native cultures, especially those Milena hailed from. 

He wondered how agreeable she would be to being monitored by him, just to learn the quirks of her everyday behavior that he hadn't seen yet. How entwined her culture was with her very being. How many practices she did on a day to day basis. How quickly she could get bored. What entertained her? What was her favorite color now that she could see it? 

She did wear a lot of warm colors. Perhaps by chance. Perhaps not. Even the blues she wore seemed warm, inviting, like a cabin in the middle of a snowy forest with a fire going and hot cocoa that was just about to be served. 

God, he really was turning into a poet, wasn’t he? The changes people went through while in love were always astonishing, weren’t they?

“Reed!” Milena shook his shoulder gently, effectively pulling him from his thoughts. “You alright, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Sweetheart. 

A person whom someone is having a romantic relationship. High school sweethearts entail a long-lasting relationship that started in high school. 

Used as a term of endearment or an affectionate form of address. One that sounded so good coming out of her mouth. Soft. Sweet. She didn’t pronounce the ‘t’s very hard, truly making it into one, complete word that had Reed’s stomach fluttering. 

“I’m sorry. I’m alright.” He adjusted the glasses perched on his nose, sliding them back up. “I didn’t realize you’d be coming today.” He quickly gathered his disorganized papers. 

Milena leaned a hip against his desk. “I saw what happened with Diablo. Wanted to be sure you were alright.” She cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at her. “Are you okay?” 

Reed blinked, mouth suddenly dry. “I’m fine, just—” He swallowed thickly, glancing over at the destroyed Fantasticar. “Just working.” 

It was hard to focus when she looked like that and touched him like that. Like she could tell him what to do and she knew he would do it without a thought.

“Mm. The chassis got corroded, right?” She turned to the car, hand falling from his face as she crouched to take a better look at it. “I could salvage this for you, if you wanted.”

He turned in his chair. “What?” His eyebrows furrowed. “How?”

Because he was too in his head, mulling over one problem for hours, he couldn’t find a solution to attempting to salvage the entire car. Too focused. It was irritating, but gratifying that his partner could come up with a solution.

Milena stood back upright. “I could weld the places where the acid completely ate through the chassis and then dip the whole thing in a bath of a strong anti-acid agent to prevent this from happening in the future.” She motioned with her hands and shrugged, “I have no idea what it is, but it works.”

Reed was so taken aback. Welding? An anti-acid agent? She knew her way around a car, clearly. 

Milena had a mechanic background. He had no idea. It never came up in any of the research he did. He could have guessed given where she grew up and how there was a large car culture within the Latin community. It just never crossed his mind. 

Though, he did want to learn things about her organically. He tried to, at least. 

“That… sounds like a good idea.” Reed nodded once. 

So that’s what they did. Reed had Ben help them take the body off the chassis before they could do any real work. Once it was off, Reed was astounded at the pure skill on display before him.

Milena wore a welding mask and gloves as sparks flew past her face. She never flinched, never even twitched a muscle. Not only that, but the welding was done like an expert had done it. Because she was one. She had even sanded down the welding marks until they looked almost non-existent, like the new metal had always been there. 

Never, in all his life, had Reed been so attracted to someone. He hadn’t noticed his slacks got tighter around his crotch for a while. Thankfully, Milena was busy so when he noticed, he slipped out of the garage and into the bathroom. 

He wasn’t sure what to do. Of course he knew what he could do, but it didn’t seem right yet. Use his hand or use her? No, use wasn’t the right word. Ask her? Still. Not a good moment to ask such a thing. 

It couldn’t be helped. She was so good at what she did. Whatever it was. Writing, talking, cooking, kissing. This was just another level. It didn’t hurt that her ass looked good in those jeans. Particularly when she bent down. A natural reaction, really. Any other man would think so. 

Except Reed wasn’t just any other man.

He gripped the sink tight and squeezed his eyes shut as he attempted to will his erection away like it was the Black Plague. 

Before anything, before color, the one attribute he was only ever attracted to was competence. Seeing someone so good at something, anything to the point of being an expert in that particular field made his stomach fill with want. 

It was the reason he was in a relationship with Sue. She was quite beautiful, of course, but she was an amazing scientist in her own right, an astronomer, a wonderful public speaker. Far better than him. He felt drawn to her. 

But this—Milena—was on a whole new level. She excelled at things more tangible, less theoretical. Things he could see were well done. That affected him more. 

When thinking about other things didn’t work, Reed splashed cold water over his face. Still. Nothing. The heat in his belly never ceased. It throbbed every so often. 

He ran a hand up his face, gathering stray water droplets on his palm. Should he pray to a God that didn’t exist? Now was as good of a time as any to become a believer. Was that how it worked? He could never tell for certain. 

The only God that popped into his head was her. 

Her in those jeans, hugging the curve of her ass just right as she crouched down to the point he could see the faintest sliver of skin on her lower back. Her muscle as it faintly made the fabric of her shirt tighter around her bicep as she held onto the soldering tool. 

“Fuck me.” Reed said hopelessly, bracing himself against the wall as he unbuckled his belt with clumsy hands. 

He was flushed and needy. Which led to only one conclusion. He needed to get it out somehow. 

He had never, personally, found the need or purpose for masturbation. Genuinely finding anyone attractive was hard for him. Of course, that had changed. As most things do when people find their soulmate. 

Reed pulled his aching cock out, letting out a small hiss when it rubbed against the fabric. He didn't completely pull down his pants or boxers because he didn't plan on lasting long anyway. Or he just wasn't thinking straight. 

He began to stroke himself, thinking of Milena. Simple things. At first. Her smile, how her dimples showed, even when smiling with one edge of her lips. Her beautiful eyes that somehow stared at him with a profound curiosity and understanding. Her skin. Or the glimpses of it he'd gotten so far. 

Autumn and Winter didn't allow for much skin to be shown. So he had to use his imagination. 

Did the light freckles on her face travel down the rest of her body? Did she have scars from some childhood accident? Tattoos that she hadn't talked about? Piercings maybe? What sort of underwear would she wear? Something practical? Something sensual? Did she shave? Did she trim? Maybe she waxed? 

Realistically, Reed had a feeling she was more practical. Simple cotton bras and panties rather than frilly lace with pink bows. Had she ever worn pink? Not that he remembered. He could assume she kept herself nicely groomed if the hair on her head was anything to go by. Not bald because who did she have to impress? 

Him. Though, she never had to try very hard in order to do so. 

He had no preference. He just longed to know, to know that what he was imagining was real. 

Reed groaned, head dropping back against the wall. It was hard, steady, and cool compared to his seemingly steaming body. 

His mind could almost replicate her voice perfectly, making it whisper sweet words of encouragement meant for his ears only though they were never spoken. 

“You're doing great, Doctor.”

“Just like that, sweetheart. You're doing so well for me.”

“Good boy.”

“Attaboy.”

“Good boy.” 

“Good boy.”

“Good boy.” 

Slapping his hand over his mouth, Reed whimpered as he came in his hand. Thighs twitched, chest heaving, face flushed, when he slowly came down from his high. 

For a moment, he felt amazing. The pinnacle of pleasure and ecstasy that he had never known before, just by using his hand and the imagination. 

Shame was quick to cut through that. 

It felt wrong to do such a thing when the object of his affection was only a few doors away, unknowing and, perhaps, confused as to where he went. And Reed had been trying to wait to do anything sexual until Milena wanted it. He failed his own attempt at letting her choose their pace. 

A valiant attempt since most soulmates had sex a mere week after meeting, studies have shown. They'd get married a week after that. 

He'd known Milena for a month now. A beautiful, amazing, lovely month. He wouldn't trade it for the world. There was no need to rush things. 

Though Reed saw this escapade of his as a breach of trust, it wasn't. If only he knew what Milena was doing in the middle of the night all alone, then he might understand the feeling was mutual. 

Romantic attraction doesn't always mean sexual attraction. But it does most of the time. 

With another splash of cold water, Reed readjusted his pants into place and ran hand through his hair. There were a few stray hairs falling over his forehead. He rubbed his hands over his cheeks. Still burning, but calmer. A hint of pink tinging his skin. A little abnormal for him but it shouldn’t be noticeable. 

He quickly washed his hands a few times, scrubbing the sin from his body like it had burned him. Once that was done, Reed slipped back into the garage. 

“I was just about to find you. Herbie got us dinner.” Milena pulled off her gloves and set them on the desk. 

Dinner consisted of two sandwiches with a loaf Ben had made, slices of turkey, beef, red onion, small sprigs of arugula, mayo on one slice of bread, and the slightest spread of mustard on the other, cut diagonally. 

She scratched Herbie’s head, causing him to chirp. “Ben said the anti-acid wouldn’t be coming until tomorrow, but the chassis is pretty much done.” 

“Right.” Reed nodded, stiffer than usual. 

Milena’s eyes narrowed. “You sure you’re alright?”

Of course she would realize something is wrong with him. Most times, that was a blessing. He wouldn’t have to explain himself. She just knew. Right now, it felt more like a curse. 

“I’m fine. Just tired.” He was partly telling the truth. 

They had been working on the Fantasticar for hours. Longer for him. He checked the time. It was past one in the morning. He was sure he had some bags under his eyes while she looked just as beautiful as when she arrived, if only a few hairs out of place and a small sheen of sweat on her hairline from the welding mask.

Maybe his exhaustion was part of the reason he couldn’t control himself. Likely not true at all, but he was gonna tell himself that until it became true. 

Skeptical, Milena just hummed. “Well, food should help a little. C’mon.” She took Reed’s hands and pulled him toward the desk where their sandwiches sat. 

They ate mostly in silence. If Reed was forced to speak a single word, he might’ve burned even brighter with shame. The silence helped to think about anything, everything else. 

“How did you become so well-versed in… mechanics?” Reed asked, eyes trailing up to her face.

Milena wiped a napkin against her mouth when she finished her meal, catching any stray crumbs. “My dad was one. Is one, still. He had me and my sister learn some basics. I liked it more than her, so I learned more and would occasionally help him on restoration projects, clean engines, install transmissions, paint cars, stuff like that.” There was a faint smile on her lips as she reminisced. 

“Runs in the family, then.” He commented.

“Something like that. Yeah.” She chuckled. 

They talked more about her growing up in LA. About times her father had to remind her which colors to use because some looked way too similar to her in her black and white vision. To her, it was choosing between two light grays. For her father, it was light yellow and lime green. 

She had mixed up colors once, but her father told her what she did turned out better than what he wanted. A happy accident. She wasn’t sure if that was true or he was just being kind. They still sold the car and, as far as she knew, there weren’t any complaints about the paintjob. 

“Anytime I’m in LA for whatever, my dad still wants me to help him paint cars.” Milena had gotten closer to Reed, an arm on the table while her other one was at her side. “I think it’s ‘cause he’s getting old now, can’t do brushstrokes as smoothly anymore.”

“Your father sounds like a lovely man.” He hummed softly, other thoughts so far away now. 

Milena brushed her shoulder against his. “That's ‘cause he is. Says he loves me any chance he gets.” 

He didn't want to say he wished to have that. In the darkest parts of himself, he whispered it. 

His mother, Evelyn, died when he was young, but Reed remembered her well. Beautiful black hair that was usually pinned back and a sharp nose he shared with her. She was kind, smart. Her area of expertise was botany, attempting to find the secrets of the universe here on Earth within the dirt and slides of chlorophyll. She always reminded Reed to take in his surroundings, to breathe between his studies. 

Her soft voice which sang lullabies. Or just songs that sounded like lullabies when they came out of her mouth. 

Blackbird singing in the dead of night,

Take these broken wings and learn fly,

All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise,

Her favorite song to lull him to sleep. The only thing he could remember her voice saying so clearly. 

His father was different. Colder. A man who had everything riding on his child’s intellect. If he, Nathaniel, could produce a child so unlike him, did it matter? 

While Reed appreciated the want to nourish his mind, it was not for the right reasons. His father was an intellectual, himself, a man famous in many circles for his robotics work and space research. He had to be like him or he wouldn't matter. He didn't deserve his father's love. 

When Reed was grown and his father had died, too, he didn't feel much of anything. How can someone mourn a man who didn't care about them? Not the way he could've. With conditions. 

If Reed got first place at a science fair, he was rewarded with going to the ice cream parlor. If he didn't, he was forced to do chores around the house. 

Not the worst thing. Still not healthy. Not what should've been. 

Reed checked his watch. 2:38 blinked back at him. They had been talking longer than he thought. 

“Would you like to stay the night? Get some sleep?” He offered to Milena, sliding a hand over hers to squeeze it gently. 

She nodded. No words needed. She pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Not sure what I'm going to wear to bed, though. Unless you want me wearing this.” She motioned to her clothes. 

The shirt she wore was slightly burned from the welding but it looked like it was always meant to be there. A sign of use. That she worked with her hands. That it was worn and loved. 

“You can wear my clothes.” Reed's eyes scanned her body. A catalog of all the things he had that could fit her began filtering through his head. 

It wasn't hard to estimate her measurements. Even when they first met, it was a thought. 

She was approximately his height, perhaps a little taller with the right boot or heel, so six feet or six-one. Maybe one-hundred and fifty pounds? One-sixty? Her bust was more than likely forty inches all around and her waist was between thirty and thirty-four—probably the latter because she needed the extra room for her backside. 

When they arrived at his room, Reed rummaged through his clothes and pulled out a button-up and a pair of boxers. “I'm going to prepare for bed. You can change.” He handed them over to her. 

Milena looked down at the folded clothes and back up at him. “Thanks.”

He made his way to the connected bathroom, pulling off his tie and unbuttoning his current shirt. He dropped them off in a hamper, revealing the undershirt he wore and the expanse of his shoulders. 

As he brushed his teeth, it was hard not to think about Milena possibly staring at him. It was also the most skin he'd shown. 

Like she read his mind, she entered the bathroom too. “Do you happen to have an extra toothbrush?” 

He nearly swallowed his toothpaste. He stopped brushing, staring at Milena's reflection in the mirror. 

The shirt fit her nicely, if a little snug around her chest. What caught his attention the most was the way her thighs were exposed. Thick and clearly full of power, with the occasional scar he could only assume were from learning mechanics with her father or some other childhood memory she hadn't told yet. 

Reed quickly spit his saliva in the sink before he had the chance to choke on it. “Yes, I-I do.” He stammered, opening up random drawers. “I swear it's in here somewhere. I always keep extras in case we have guests because Johnny never remembers to get some for Peter or Esha. Which is counterintuitive because they stay here a lot and, somehow, he always forgets.” He rummaged through the drawers, wondering where they had gone. 

Milena simply watched, half amused while he opened and closed drawer upon drawer until he finally found an extra toothbrush. She gladly took it and began brushing her teeth. 

Reed took that as a good opportunity to change into his own pajamas. Another matching set. This time a marigold set with a pattern of rusty-orange diamonds. 

“Look at you.” Milena whistled, causing him to flush. “Adorable.” She got in bed next to him and pressed a kiss to his nose. 

He felt his cheeks burn even more. When was the last time he was called something close to cute? It felt like a while. The last person who said such a thing had to be his mother. 

Reed ran a hand through her hair—it was out of the bun but there were still some braids—just to feel the texture of it. “Thank you. And you are unbelievably gorgeous.” He whispered, eyes trailing over her face. “Maybe it's the low lighting.” 

The room wasn't bathed in light but there was some coming from the lamps on the bedside tables. A warm, soft light that diffused nicely across her skin. 

“Only you would say something like that.” Milena chuckled, sliding a hand over his waist just to hold. 

He felt a pang of self-consciousness. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not at all. Quite the opposite, really.” The smile that spread across her lips was tired, but slow and easy. 

Like how the sun rose over the horizon to start a new day. Or how it set, signaling the end of it. 

Notes:

am i kind of making up reed richards lore? yes. mind your business.

in the meantime, crazy how reed richards is also capable of lust.

Chapter 11: The Green Light

Summary:

Winter is in full swing. For some animals, it means hibernation. For others? Not so much.

Notes:

so the ao3 authors curse got to me because why was i so incredibly ready to upload this chapter and then my computer screen broke? anyway, i got a new computer so hopefully nothing bad happens to this one!

December was in full swing, a constant chill in the crisp air, snow sticking to the ground. New York around this time truly felt like a winter wonderland, strings of multicolored lights across every building that astronauts could probably see from space. 

Nearly everyone—including parents and their children, couples, or friends—held a warm cup of hot cocoa as they walked or sat on park benches, simply enjoying the atmosphere. Some children played in the snow at the park, making angels or building snowmen complete with dead twigs or rocks and spare buttons and scarves. 

For someone who didn’t grow up with winters like these, Milena adjusted pretty quickly to the sight and feeling of snow. She didn’t hate it. She didn’t like it, either. But even she couldn’t deny there was a certain magic of feeling all four seasons rather than the two—three if she was being generous—she was accustomed to back in California. 

It was a tradition that, around this time of year, she and Esha would get some hot cocoa and walk around Central Park, look at the lights and watch some children play in the snow. Esha would muse about having one of her own eventually. 

They met at the corner of the street, where their favorite hot chocolate stand sat just as the sun began to set. 

“Hey, Markus!” Esha waved, a bright smile on her face as they walked up to the window. 

“Ah, my favorite girls.” Markus smiled, his dark eyes twinkling in the lights. “How are you?” 

They had gone to the stand every year since they became friends. Five years, consistently. Sometimes, they'd go every weekend when snow touched the ground but, this time, it was their first of the season. They knew Markus quite well.

He had two daughters with his wife, a red-headed woman—from Esha’s description—who would occasionally help him at the stand. 

“Great!” Esha grabbed Milena’s shoulders, squeezing them gently. “This one finally met her soulmate! So we’re kinda celebrating.”

Markus chuckled, “Well, that is good, isn’t it? Who is the lucky man?” He looked at Milena with an expectant expression. 

She froze. She knew that question would come soon but that didn’t mean she was prepared to answer it. What should she say? The truth? That would warrant even more unwanted questions. If not by Markus himself, because he was a polite man, then by the others in line. 

She wasn’t sure she was prepared for that sort of publicity, and had told Reed to his face. There was a sort of public claim to him that she didn’t want to get between, even as she had already done so without knowing.

Milena Sánchez was a name which lived in his mind among the unsolvable equations, worries of the future, and musings of what was yet to be discovered by man. 

As if on cue, Reed stepped next to Milena. “Do you mind if I buy your drinks?” He asked the women, a polite smile spread across his lips. 

He wore yet another cozy-looking coat, this time in a dusty orange-red color complete with gloves that matched the dark color of his slacks. Fashion as sharp as ever. 

No wonder women tried to have him. If to no avail, they still tried.

Markus looked between Reed and Milena. He wasn’t an idiot. Though Reed was being polite, or wanted to seem like he was, Markus could tell there was a certain warmth shared between the pair. The same warmth between himself and his wife, a particular warmth that could only be shared between soulmates. 

“No, that’s okay—” Milena tried to decline.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you.” Esha interrupted, holding out a hand for Reed. “It’s nice to really meet you, Dr. Richards.” 

Although Esha had gone to the Fantastic Four’s family dinners for some time now, she and Reed had never gotten a chance to speak. He was not quite shy but if he spoke to anyone while she was around it was usually Ben or Sue, though he would listen when she spoke about her day or what she did for a living.

Reed nodded, shaking Esha’s hand firmly. “It’s nice to really meet you too, Ms. Karak.” 

The others in line began to whisper about the presence of Mr. Fantastic, but especially why he would bother to pay for two presumably random women’s drinks. He was kind, of course, but Reed rarely made a public appearance lest he had to for academic or political purposes. 

“Did you want anything, sir?” Markus asked as Reed gave him a few dollars for the hot cocoa. 

The doctor shook his head. “I’m not one to enjoy sweet things.”

“Ah. You do strike me as someone who likes bitter things.” Markus hummed as he prepared the two cups. 

“I suppose you’re right.” Reed muttered.

Milena was sweet. But not outwardly so. She was not nearly as bubbly as her friend, did not plaster a bright, genuine smile on her face when meeting someone new, did not want to yell about her relationship on the highest of rooftops across New York. She was kind, respectful, understated. 

Though, there was a tingle at the back of his throat every time Reed got even a glimpse of her. It lingered like the taste of bitter ninety-percent dark chocolate, covering his taste buds long after she left. 

“Well,” Esha grabbed her cup, taking a quick sip, “I actually think my oven is still running. Which, y’know, not good. You two have fun.” Just like that, she was gone.

Reed and Milena looked at each other as they stepped out of the line. 

“I apologize, she does this sort of thing a lot—” Milena tried to excuse her friend.

Reed shook his head, waving it off. “It’s alright. Johnny does the same thing all the time. It’s no wonder they’re soulmates.” 

They began walking side-by-side, shoulders brushing while Milena took sips from her cup every so often. “What kind of things does Johnny say?” She asked. 

“Oh, something like ‘I have to save a spider, ride a reporter.’” Reed recounted, eyebrows furrowed. He still didn’t get that one. 

Milena laughed. Hard. To the point she almost choked on her drink. Clearly, she got the joke but he didn’t. 

Confused, he simply enjoyed the sound of her laughter. He hadn’t heard more than a chuckle from her so this was new. Refreshing. Her laughs came in threes, shoulders shaking as her eyes crinkled at the sides and her wide-dimpled smile was on full display. 

Was she emitting solar flares? Why did he feel so suddenly warm even as the cold was biting into his cheeks? She was a human, was she not? He would know if she wasn’t. However, the way she made him feel could not have been done by any ordinary human.

They kept walking, chatting about the hours they were not with each other, subtly admiring the strings of lights as they walked through the park. 

Milena had covered the fight with Diablo, as was her new assignment, and submitted the article for review and Reed updated her that the anti-acid agent was applied to the Fantasticar and seemed to be working fine given the few tests he’d done to it. 

The moon was glowing bright in the night sky, full and large. “Did you, uh, want to come home with me?” Milena asked, something meaningful stirring in her eyes. Her cup was long empty now. 

Reed, for all his flaws, understood what this meant. “I would love to.” He breathed. 

When they arrived at her apartment, he watched her intently. The way she smoothly removed her coat and hooked it on the coat rack or how she took off the paperboy hat on her head, putting it on top of her coat. He almost forgot to take off his own overcoat. When he did, he quickly stuffed his gloves into the pockets. 

He remembered this awkward dance like his first time was yesterday. The buildup, the waiting, was the worst part but he intended to keep going. 

Statistically, many couples had sex after the third or fourth date—minus most soulmates, they did things on the fast track—so they were about on track to fit into that statistic even if they were soulmates. 

If Milena was ready, so was he, even as the shame of previous memories burned at the back of his mind. 

She took his hand, leading Reed through parts of her apartment he’d never seen before. To her bedroom. For a moment, he admired her choices of decor. This felt more personal than what was on display in the living room. There were a few of her front-page articles framed, from both the Daily Bugle and LA Times, the ones she was most proud of, and a few awards for her writing on shelves, amongst Navajo tapestries and paintings from LA artists. 

“I've never… done this kind of thing before.” Milena confessed once the door clicked shut behind them, as if that was another barrier between them and the rest of the world. 

Such was a variable Reed had considered. Virginity was simultaneously a made-up concept that valued the untouched for their purity but also did not matter at all. Not really. 

However, people were self-conscious of the lack of experience even with their soulmate. In their case, Reed had only been with one person before Milena, and yet that seemed like more experience than he needed. 

Most people saved themselves for their soulmate, if not immediately upon meeting, then after they married. But it wasn't completely uncommon for people not to wait, for them to crave another's touch regardless of who it was. They were only human, after all. 

Reed cupped her cheeks, a gentleness in his eyes that nearly made her melt. “That's okay. I didn't expect you to, anyway.” He murmured. 

“Nice that you have faith in me.” Milena said dryly, but her eyes held no indication of offense. 

“I merely meant—” He tried to explain himself.

She shushed him with a kiss, hands naturally grabbing at his waist with a softness he hadn't expected. “I know what you meant.” 

The closeness made him pause. Then the realization of just how close they would be getting finally set in. 

Those dreams, those thoughts, his wonders, questions about her would all be confirmed. His heart began pounding in his ears and he could feel his slacks getting tighter around the front. 

Reed powered through. “What do you want? How do you want this to go?” He brushed a few hairs behind her ear, thumb caressing her jaw in the process. 

In his very limited experience, Reed liked being whatever his partner wanted him to be. To morph himself into somewhat of a machine designed for their pleasure and their pleasure only.

With a small tug to his shirt, Milena answered. “I think I want to be on top. Wanna be inside you.” She whispered, pulling him closer so she could press tender kisses to his neck and insert a leg between his thighs. 

“Inside—?” Reed’s brain short-circuited when he could feel a bulge that was not his own pressing into his hip and Milena’s lips found the perfect spot on his neck to render him speechless. 

It was weird he hadn’t realized sooner. With the way she preferred to wear pants more often than skirts or dresses and how there was a little extra room on the crotch. Though Reed had fantasized about her body, when he was around her, he always kept his eyes above the belt.

More or less. 

“C’mon,” Milena began to undo his tie and unbutton his shirt, “Help me?”

Snapping back to reality, Reed surged forward to kiss her. It was sloppy, hurried, like unleashing a feral animal in the middle of a concrete jungle. He practically tore his shirt off and internally cursed at himself for wearing an undershirt. 

Milena chuckled when they broke apart. She helped him take off the tank, warm hands skidding across the skin of his sides. 

Reed’s chest rose and fell with each deep breath he took, a dark look in his eyes as he stared at her. His skin was lightly flushed and she traced it with a soft palm, over his shoulders, his chest, the column of his neck. 

The warmth of her touch made him feel more alive than he had ever felt. Like he was something worthy. Like he had been praying at the altar of a goddess and she had finally graced him with an answer. 

With a soft hand, Milena guided Reed down onto her bed. Maybe he was being delusional but he could almost feel the warmth of her body from where she slept last night. A thrill ran through him. Then another as she settled between his thighs and slipped off her sweater. 

As suspected, Milena’s choice of undergarments were practical. Her bra, a simple t-shirt style, was completely opaque with no special design in a maroon color. No extra padding, either. Not that she needed it. 

What really interested him were the freckles that ran down her body in clusters. There were some that kissed the tops of her breasts over the fabric of her bra, decorated the arch of her shoulders, and the length of her arms. Few were darker than others but he made note of one on her collarbone. 

She leaned down, peppering his skin with kisses just as he was contemplating doing the same to her. A few tender kisses on the softness of his stomach, light pecks between his pectorals, and then she began sucking and nipping at the plane of his pec. He groaned softly, fingers carding through her hair, pulling some back so he could still see her face. 

“And you said you had no experience?” Reed commented, breathless as Milena sat back on her haunches. 

“I don’t,” She pulled at his belt, “But I’ve been wanting to do that.” His belt fell to the floor with a small clink. 

Reed hummed, “For how long?” His hand slid up her forearm until it reached her bicep, feeling the undeniable, unyielding muscle there. Likely due to working on cars on top of regular gym visits. 

“Now why would I admit that?” Milena chuckled, leaning down to kiss him as she unbuttoned his slacks. 

“Scientific curiosity?” Reed smiled against her lips, squeezing her bicep when he felt the muscle jump underneath his palm. 

“Mm, that’s not enough.” She murmured, tugging his pants until he lifted his hips so they could come off smoothly. 

He flushed as he was practically bare before her. His white boxer briefs didn’t leave much to the imagination. His cock was hard, tenting the fabric, and leaking into the fabric. His fingers curled into the sheets beneath him. 

“Could you—” He drew in a sharp breath. Her eyes trailed over his body until they met his eyes. “Could you take your pants off too?” He felt awfully bare compared to her, as if fairness had anything to do with this. 

Yet Milena complied without complaint. She stood from the bed to take off her pants as he requested. Though Reed would have loved to take them off himself, he admired the new skin. Those freckles trailed down her thighs, becoming lighter as they met her calves. 

His eyes fixated on the dusting of hair above her pantyline—which was a hipster style in the same color as her bra—that dipped below. There was a smooth bulge between her thighs, a testament to how well she must have tucked, he noted. 

An idea struck him. One he felt like he had to voice. Reed pushed himself up with his forearms to look at her. “I think, if you would like to still fuck me,” He cringed at his own wording, “Perhaps I can ride you in the lotus position.”

Milena cocked an eyebrow. “What’s that?” She wasn’t put off by the suggestion, just confused. 

Ah, right. With a light tug, Reed pulled her onto the bed and had her sit beside him before he sat in her lap. “It’s like this.” He whispered, breath hot on her face.

Naturally, her hands found his waist and squeezed lightly. “Ah.” Her jaw tensed. The intimacy of the position, though there were still scraps of clothing separating them, was not lost on her. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes.” He nearly whimpered, a breathy, needy sound. 

His fingers slipped underneath the straps of her bra, a silent question passing between them. She nodded, causing him to slip his hands around to the clasp of her bra, unhooking it, and helping her out of it. He was blessed with her bare chest, a few more freckles revealed to his greedy gaze. “Absolutely beautiful.” He ducked his head to press a few affectionate kisses to the curve of her breast.

There were so many words Reed wanted to say but none of them seemed to capture the absolute wonder he had for a soulmate. Even the sun didn’t burn as bright as her, didn’t give the same warmth as her, but it was the only thing he could compare her to. 

A deity not quite cosmic but not quite human either. A mixture of the Earth and the Sun.

Milena cupped his cheek, forcing him to look up at her with a gentle hand. “I want to see you.” There was a subtle movement of her hips against his as she spoke the order so gently which had him swallowing thickly. 

“I should, uh—” Reed moved off of her so he could properly take off his underwear. His dick stood tall and long between his thighs, the tip glistening with a few beads of arousal. 

She did the same. 

Before, Reed had never understood the idea that upon seeing someone's dick, their mouth would immediately water. Now, he understood. In a way. Milena's shaft was deliciously thick, slick with pre-cum as it stood at full height, underneath a patch of nicely trimmed, dark curls, and he couldn't help but wonder what she must taste like. Salty? Sweet? Bitter? 

Realistically, it could be a mixture of all three. A taste uniquely hers. 

“C’mere, sweetheart.” Milena rasped, pulling his hips to straddle her again. He set his hands on her shoulders. “Shouldn't I prep you, though?” She asked, nearly concerned. 

Though she was a virgin, she wasn't unknowing. She learned the basics of sex as most people did, in school, and did a little research beyond that on her own. Lube was a very handy tool in the bedroom, particularly between those of the same sex. Or those with the same genitalia. 

“I'll be fine.” Reed whispered, capturing her lips in a kiss as he lifted his hips and slowly lowered them. He could feel her breath was stolen, given to him. 

He just sat there a moment, letting himself feel the weight of her inside him, watching her eyelids gently flutter as she stared up at him with something akin to wonder. This was what he wanted. He wanted, maybe unconsciously, to be taken by her. To relinquish some semblance of control and give it to her. Although he was the one on top, she could stop his pleasure whenever he wanted, could tip the scales, change their positions and take whatever she wanted from him.

He'd let her. 

One of her hands wandered up the curve of his spine, a feather-like touch that had Reed arching towards her. A ghost of a whine was on the edge of his lips. 

“Move for me?” Milena rasped, lips brushing against the cut of his chin. 

How could he deny her anything when she spoke like that? Reed began to roll his hips at a steady, but gentle, pace. Even then, the drag set his nerve-endings on fire. 

“Fuck,” He groaned, “You feel so good, baby.” 

She nuzzled into his neck, letting out her own low moans. “You, too, sweetheart. So tight.” He never swore, and the fact that he was now made her feel all the more aroused. He could feel it. 

They stayed like that for a while. Reed’s gentle rocking, a sensual dance, with their shared gasps and whines against each other's lips. Milena's hands never stopped exploring, warm fingertips sliding against the cleft of his ass, the dip of his spine, the ridges of his ribs as he breathed, and the valleys in his back as his muscles tensed. 

He didn't think about equations or the inevitability of death. For once, his mind was clear besides the feeling of her. The idea of her. Her touch, her kisses to his neck and jaw, her eyes, her breath against his skin, her cock as he moved up and down. Up and down. Side to side. 

“Fuck,” Reed hissed, growing more desperate as time went on. His pace hastened, growing sloppier. “Can you—” He whimpered sharply when Milena anticipated his request and thrust upward, finding a rhythm with him. 

“That good?” Milena asked, warm against his ear.

He trembled. “Great. Perfect.” 

Every time he sat down, she thrust up to meet the trajectory of his hips. She somehow felt deeper like that. Like she was reaching places no one else could. And maybe never would have before. 

A sharp thrust from her and Reed cried out, nails digging into the meat of her shoulders to leave crescent shapes she would discover in the morning. She'd hit his prostate like it was nothing. Like she already knew what to do though she didn't. 

He buried his face into the crook of her neck, huffing and moaning hard enough that moisture began to build on her skin with each thrust. 

A gentle hand cradled the back of his head. “You're doing good, sweetheart.” Milena praised in his ear. “So good. And you feel good too. So fucking good.” 

The sound of her voice set his insides on fire. The real praise was so much better than the voice in his head. Because he wasn't imagining it anymore. No longer was he lost in his thoughts, he could just feel. 

“Good boy.” 

“Just like that. Doing good, sweetheart.”

“Mm, attaboy.”

“So goddamn tight—”

“So good for me, aren't you?”

Reed wanted to answer, wanted to beg, but he couldn't form the words. He just whimpered weakly and nodded eagerly. He was a good boy for Milena. He was. He was. He was as long as she said so. 

The pressure was building to an explosion, Reed could tell. His cock was practically weeping, red and wanting as it bobbed along to each roll of his hips. He was so very close. On the precipice of falling off a cliff. 

“Lena, oh—” Reed's hips stuttered as stars exploded behind his eyes. 

Was that the Big Bang? A flashing of white and suddenly everything was everywhere, particles moving at such a speed never believed possible. Stars began forming as the particles began to settle, bright colors of orange, red, yellow, white, and blue, millions of light-years away from one another. 

He was in some far-off place. So far that he hadn't registered that she had cum shortly after he did.

“Reed, sweetheart,” Milena called to him, caressing the side of his face, “Where are you?” 

She had caught him, but he still wasn't with her—not really—while he was conscious. In an attempt to help ground him, she pulled him close so that their chests were pushed together. 

The physical contact helped. Reed breathed in deeper, less shallow as he nuzzled into her shoulder. “I think I saw the secrets of the universe.” He mumbled. 

A more conscious, thoughtful Reed would have immediately gone to his lab to try and make sense of what he saw but he was completely and utterly fucked. His brain, not quite melted, but was not being useful the way it usually was. 

“Did you, now?” Milena hummed, not even a hint of sarcasm in her voice. “What was it like?” 

For all she knew, he could see the secrets of the universe.

“I think I saw you there.” He murmured it so incoherently she wasn't quite sure what he said. 

Reed fell asleep not long after. His face still buried in her neck, his hands looser on her shoulders but they did not fall completely slack and lifeless. 

Carefully, Milena shifted them to lay down. She pulled the covers over their intertwined, naked bodies, and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple where the grey of his hair grew. An arm rested on his waist while the other slipped underneath her pillow. 

“I think I saw you there, too.” She whispered to the dark. 

Chapter 12: Golden Rays

Summary:

The aftermath of the previous night gives Reed a glimpse of what life would be like spent with Milena.

The morning sun was filtered through the curtains, creating a dreamlike haze across the bedroom as Reed began to wake.

Usually, he woke and nearly immediately got out of bed, took a shower, got dressed, maybe he ate breakfast if he felt he had the time, and went to the lab afterwards. 

His brain hasn't quite caught up yet. He felt floaty, not human, as his fingers curled in the sheets of a bed that was not his own but felt like home. His eyes were unfocused until he rubbed them with the back of his hand, then looked around the room. 

Right. Last night. 

Reed blinked slowly, looking over to where Milena had made an imprint on the bed. The sheets were strewn about and, when he ran a hand across the mattress, he could still feel the heat of her body. She must've woken up a few minutes before him. 

He stayed there, eyes still hazy even as he took in more detail of the world. Her world. She had a singular lamp, on the nightstand on the side where she had lain, a glass now emptied of water, some rings, and jewelry. And he was there among them. Not quite an accessory, but something that orbited her world, inhabited it now that the mattress would remember the curve of his body and the warmth of his skin. 

Sitting up in bed, Reed rubbed his eye with the back of his hand as the sheets pooled in his lap. Realistically, he knew that it wouldn’t help his vision focus, but he couldn’t stop himself from doing so.

As he began to see properly, he began to breathe in the scent of maple mixed with meat as it sizzled in the other room. He drew in a deep breath, letting the aroma fill his lungs. 

Milena was cooking for him. A smile appeared on his face. 

He began to get dressed somewhat absentmindedly, not as methodical as usual but with a similar sort of instinctiveness. He pulled on his boxers, slacks, socks, and tank top—even tucked it in—but did not put on his belt or his button-up and tie. However, he did fold them on the edge of the bed for later.

As suspected, in the kitchen, Milena stood in a burgundy silk nightgown whilst she manned two pans—one for pancakes which were piled high on another plate while the other was for the sausages. 

“I suppose it’s good you’re making breakfast rather than myself.” Reed commented, voice soft as he stepped close and pressed a gentle kiss to Milena’s cheek. 

Turning her head, Milena brushed her nose against his in a kiss of their own. “Why would I make the tired guy make breakfast anyway? That would not be very kind of me after last night.” 

Reed flushed, memories of last night coming back to him in flashes. Her hands roaming over his skin, touching, not grabbing, every part of him that she could. The way she filled him so wholly and completely, even as he stretched to take her length. How she whispered sweet things to him like he was something precious, to be cradled so gently, an ancient artifact covered in straw.

The memory of his vision came back, too. How he saw so much white until, suddenly, he didn’t and there was an explosion of color behind his eyes, of stars and planets and galaxies forming. 

“That is a good point.” He murmured. 

“I could always teach you to cook.” Milena suggested, transferring the remaining food onto their respective plates. 

Reed blinked, “You would do that?”

Ben, and even Sue, have tried to teach him even the basics of cooking but he always ended up with something that was very much not the intention of the recipe. Something about Milena, however, made him believe she would be the one to properly help him. 

“Sure, why not?”  She shrugged and then brushed her shoulder against his. 

Breakfast was a soft affair. Perhaps the only time Reed did not mind eating food and genuinely enjoyed it, though he wasn’t sure it had anything to do with the food itself but who he was sharing it with. 

“Do you have work to do today?” He asked, simply to make conversation.

Milena rolled around a link of sausage on her plate. “I am not going to work today but, I think I’m gonna do some research later. I’m not well-versed in Fantastic Four lore as I should be.” She teased lightly. 

“Perhaps I can help.” He suggested.

“And have Reed Richards be my source again?” She raised an eyebrow, “I’m not sure that would be good for me. They’d question my credibility.”

Reed tilted his head minutely, “How so?”

“I would be the only one who would consistently get private interviews with you, even I would question that were it someone else getting these interviews with you.” Milena explained, motioning with her hands and a clear passion in her voice. 

Right. The public did not know for certain who Milena was to Reed, if she was anything at all. Only a select few knew the truth. 

Clearing the table, he helped do the dishes but there were other things on his mind. “Do you not want people to know who you are to me?” He caught her eyes as he dried a plate with a towel. 

“I don’t want people to think I get special privilege because I’m your soulmate.” Milena admitted with a sigh.

“But you do.” He said as if it were fact. 

She went silent, a mixture of displeasure and acceptance warring in her eyes and the line of her lips. Deep down, she had known the truth but to have it plainly said was somewhat of a shock to face. 

He understood her perspective. She did not want the value of her work to be discredited simply because most of it was about her soulmate, though none of her writing held any indication at all. She treated the Fantastic Four as equals; no one person was written as better than the others, as they had their own strengths. And weaknesses. 

Reed set down the towel and pulled Milena into his arms, a soft hand against her waist. “I do not need it shouted from rooftops, but I want people to know you are mine and I am yours.” He brushed some unruly hairs away from her face. “People trust you and I think admitting this will make them trust you more.” 

“Because, even though I’m your soulmate, I include a report of how much damage is caused after every fight you’re in?” 

A flicker of guilt rose in his chest at the mere mention of it but he nodded regardless. “That is precisely why.” He pressed their foreheads together. 

Milena let out a breath, shoulders relaxing as she leaned into his arms. Their breaths mingled into one, lips parted, as their noses touched. She nuzzled her nose against his, eyes fluttering closed, craving the touch of him against her.

“I guess it isn't,” Her eyes opened slowly, “The worst thing in the world. To have people know you're taken.” 

Reed chuckled softly, palm caressing her cheek. “It's not. In fact, I would like more people to know.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. 

The feelings he had for Milena were soft, gentle, yet so consuming and so loud they would ring in his ears. Something that didn't require much besides the presence of her, even as he felt waves of desire. Something that did not need to be said aloud but he wanted it to be. He knew what people thought. A man of his status, without a partner? That meant he would be seen as single, someone who could be taken by others in the deepest of fantasies. He didn't want that anymore. 

“You want to be left alone.” She commented softly.

“Yes.” He confirmed. “But, now, I want to be left alone with you.” His palm slid down to her jaw, a gentleness in his touch he didn't intend for. It just happened.

Milena's hazel eyes sparkled with an emotion he couldn't quite place—something profound and affectionate—as her pupils dilated. She looked absolutely gorgeous. Heavenly. More than that.

She was something he could never quite comprehend. And that was terrifying. In the best way possible. To throw himself into her gravitational pull, accepting his fiery fate.

He swallowed thickly and quickly changed the subject before he could think about it too long. “What sort of thing are you going to teach me to cook?” Reed wondered aloud, as if scared by the intimacy he initiated. 

“How about…” Milena squeezed his hands as she thought, a cute dent between her eyebrows and a light pout on her lips. “A basic pasta?”

“Pasta?” He froze. Last time he tried to make pasta, it was a disaster. Flour and dough everywhere—if he could even call what he made dough, it turned out more like a slurry. 

She quickly added with a chuckle, “Not from scratch.” With another gentle squeeze, she tried to reassure him. “We’re just gonna make a sauce. Maybe with some chicken.”

Immediately, Reed relaxed though there was still trepidation in his eyes. Was there such a thing as simple pasta? Everything he watched Ben cook seemed awfully complicated for his logical brain to comprehend. How could someone trust themselves so much to not mess up something meant to nourish the body? It might as well be another language to Reed. Well, one that he didn’t already know. 

Cooking with Milena, though, that was like finally getting the hang of a new language to the point of fluency. It was being able to say more advanced sentences, understanding others in a language that was not his native tongue, finding words he could not translate but understood regardless. 

She had him in front of a pan with garlic frying, cherry tomatoes just about to burst, and wilting spinach. He was just about to pour some cream in to make the sauce. 

“Can I get an exact measurement?” Reed glanced at her, just a quick one since he was afraid that something would happen if he looked away. This was about the time it went horribly. Thankfully, she was manning the chicken. 

Milena shook her head. There was a playful sternness to her demeanor. “No. If you think there’s enough, add a little more. This isn’t baking, so try not to worry.” She instructed as she turned the chicken over, revealing its crisp bottom. 

Try not to worry.

“I’m not sure I’m capable of that.” Reed muttered.

She stared at him for a moment. A few breaths passed. Then, her warm hand enveloped his as he held the container of cream. Like a lazy wave upon a shore, he relaxed. 

He poured in about half the container. For good measure, he added another teaspoon or so. 

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Milena teased in his ear, causing a shiver to run down his spine. 

No, not at all. Not with her help. Reed knew he was an overthinker. He was painfully aware of every single shortcoming he ever had, and yet, they all seemed to melt away when she touched him so sweetly, when she spoke to him like no one else mattered. 

Soon enough, they had a proper meal. Something edible that he made. Or had a hand in making. 

A flicker of pride surged in Reed’s chest as he looked at the finished plate—a piece of chicken sat on a bed of creamy pasta, complete with the tomatoes and finely chopped spinach. 

“Can you hold up the plate, baby?” Milena had procured a polaroid camera, pointing it at him. “We have to take a picture for proof.”

Baby. 

That simple word seared itself into his brain. It was somehow more intimate than ‘sweetheart’ in a way he couldn’t explain. Made him feel like the worries of a normal day just disappeared before him like a spectre. 

Reed complied, holding up the plate so Milena could see it within frame. 

“Smile for me?” She requested softly.

He had no choice, did he? Not when he ran the risk of disappointing her. He mustered up a smile that became more genuine the more he stared at her, a calm washing over his bones. 

Milena snapped the picture and lowered the camera as it pumped out the undeveloped film. She took the picture out and waved it around to help it develop better. 

When the picture began to peek through, still starkly contrasting, she slid next to him in order to show it. Sure enough, Reed saw himself, clad in a tank top and smiling at the person just behind the camera with a mixture of affection and pride in his eyes. 

“I didn’t realize you had a dimple.” Milena commented casually. “Just one, too.”

Reed looked at her, staring intently. “I got it from my father. However, he had two.” He didn’t mention how that made him seem imperfect in his father’s eyes. 

Even as the smartest man alive—a boy, then—he could never measure up to his father’s expectations. He was too small in his childhood, didn’t grow like he was supposed to, didn’t look like he was supposed to, reminded his father too much of his mother with his dark, round eyes and aquiline nose. He viewed it as a negative, like his mother was a memory he wanted locked away in the dark recesses of his mind, which just kept resurfacing every time he looked at Reed.

“Makes you look cute.” She pressed a kiss to the cheek where his dimple would deepen as he smiled. 

Instinctively, Reed leaned into her kiss. “I could reorganize your cabinets to optimize space. If you wanted.” He set down the plate on the counter. “While you work.” 

He had noticed her kitchen was a bit of a mess. Clean, but disorganized. Or it was organized in a way only Milena could understand. He wanted to understand, too, desperate for it. 

“If you want to do it, then sure.” Milena set the camera off to the side as she pinned the picture of him to the corkboard hanging off the nearest wall. Pictures of her and her family, her and her friends, decorated the board with small indications of each date they were taken underneath each picture. 

She took the plate from the counter and made her way to the living room, pressing a kiss to Reed’s cheek as she brushed past him to where her typewriter was set up. She put the plate on the coffee table and went to her record player to pluck a vinyl, setting it on the mat and dropping the needle gently before she went back to the couch to work.

Dear soulmate,

Do you think of me? 'Cause I do,

Do you have green eyes? Or are they brown like mine?

Do you have a sister too?

Dear soulmate,

One day I'll give this song to you,

As soft music filtered in through the living room, Reed tried not to think about Milena trying his dish and hating it. Even if it looked good, the flavor was what mattered most. Instead, he busied himself with sorting her pots and pans by size, material, and intended use. 

By the time he was done, the afternoon sun filtered in through the windows above the sink. The vinyl was still playing, now onto a song further into the album.

With a sigh, Reed made his way to Milena and sat next to her. He wrapped an arm around her and nudged his face into the crook of her neck, craving closeness. She leaned her head against his, not missing a beat as she typed. 

He noticed her plate was cleaned with light streaks of sauce decorating it like an abstract painting. She liked it. A simple revelation that made his chest fill with a light affection that made him feel like he could float while grounding him in some peculiar dichotomy. 

But he learned long ago that two opposites can coexist simultaneously. He could never have expected those opposites to live inside him. 

“Did you… like it?” Reed asked, embarrassed by how hesitant he sounded. 

“Yeah. I did.” Milena focused on him rather than the work in front of her. She adjusted an arm so it was around his shoulder, keeping him close. “I know it’s your job to think, to muster up a million different possibilities, weigh them against one another, but you have to embrace that there are things you can’t predict, that are not reliant on plans or equations. Things that you probably won’t ever understand.”

Reed leaned into her easy touch. “You are one of those things I don’t quite understand.” His words were soft, but clear. Direct. “Just when I think I have you figured out, you do something, and it escapes me.” There was a twinge of amusement in his tone. 

There was something inexplicable about Milena Sánchez. He could say what attracted him to her—the steadfast attitude towards her job, the way she carried herself, careful yet sure, the gleam in her eyes as story beats inside her head began to make sense together—but that did not tell him how she ticked. He wanted to know her thoughts, her feelings, her dreams, as if they were his own. 

Milena chuckled, “I like to keep you guessing.”

“You do it well.” Reed wanted to mold himself to her, become a part of her, maybe that would give him a better understanding of the inner-machinations of her mind. 

For a while, they stayed like that. His arm around her, hers around him, while her other hand typed, just as efficient if she had both to use. She would occasionally stop to think, press a pen between her lips, a crease between her brows, and kiss his lips in a chaste, but ever-so-sweet peck. 

Eventually, the arm around him left when inspiration struck and it seemed like she needed both hands to write down her thoughts accurately. No matter, Reed pressed himself further into Milena’s side, nose pressed against the curve of her cheek. 

Then, they both heard a light thump followed by a pained groan from somewhere in the apartment. Their heads turned to the source. The bathroom. 

Reed stood and made his way to the bathroom, creeping the door open. It couldn’t be anything horrible. Normal crime was at an all-time low, so the chances of a robber trying to break in were slim.

“There’s a spider on your floor.” He called back to Milena. 

In an instant, she was at his side. “Oh, Peter.” She frowned, looking at the pathetic heap on the floor. 

Peter was greatly beaten up, his suit torn in places, mask thrown off to the side as a splatter of blood lay next to him. The window was slightly ajar with a twinge of scarlet on the edge. He was still breathing, but it was shallow and labored. 

There went their seemingly uneventful day together. 

Reed and Milena hoisted him up and carried him to the living room to let him lay on the couch. Peter groaned at the movement but snuggled up in the pillows. 

“I’ll go get the first aid kit.” She said as she disappeared into the bathroom again to retrieve it. 

Just some gauze would do since Peter had accelerated healing but it didn’t hurt to disinfect and care for his wounds regardless of the fact. 

“What happened?” Reed questioned when Milena began to care for Peter’s cuts. He rephrased, “How did you end up like this?”

Peter’s eyes had to focus on Reed for a moment before he registered it was him. “Dr. Richards…” His words were slurred. Delirious. “When did you get hot..?” He murmured.

Blinking, Reed glanced down at himself. He was just wearing a tank top and slacks. There was nothing particularly hot about it. His arms were on display. That was it.

“Peter, babe,” Milena tapped his cheek with her palm, “Who did this to you?” 

Reed couldn’t help the smallest shiver of jealousy that ran through him when she called Peter a pet name. 

He hissed as she dabbed an alcohol wipe against the cut on his lip. “Doc Ock.” 

Ah, the scientist who went mad when his creation took control of him rather than the other way around. A sad story, really, because Peter liked the guy so much. Unfortunately, Otto Octavius didn’t have the same sort of soft spot for Spider-Man. 

“Why’d you come here instead of Esha’s place? Or the Baxter Building?” Milena questioned further.

“You were closer.” Peter said before he coughed up more blood. 

He passed out when she pressed a cool compress to his head. He likely had a concussion and a few broken ribs alongside some internal bleeding but he needed rest as he healed up. 

It was somehow comforting to see Milena take care of Peter. Reed was reminded of the way his mother took care of his scraped knee after playing in the garden. Her soothing touch mixed with the sting of the ointment she massaged into his skin. 

Was Peter Milena’s child in a similar sense? She was quite good at taking care of things. Taking care of people.

Milena sighed as she began to clean up the bloodied gauze from her coffee table. “Sorry about this. He can be a mess sometimes.” 

“I know. It’s nothing you need to apologize for.” Reed helped her clean up, throwing gauze and alcohol pads in the trash.

He didn’t mind this easy, gentle domesticity that was beginning to form between them—even as it was disrupted by a bleeding spider—it just felt right. His brain did not turn off but it did not explode either. Rather, there was a happy median where he only needed it to memorize the details of Milena’s face, her voice, or the way she touched him so softly. 

It made him remember where he stashed his mother’s ring. 

Notes:

i know this fic is almost done aka there's two chapters left but trust me when i say there is still so much more to come within those next two chapters alone.

in the meantime, have fun waiting!!!

"dear soulmate" by laufey is a modern song but it is in the style of music made in the 1940s-60s with jazz influences so i thought i might as well use it here.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of Pedro Pascal
• Part 13 of Marvel