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katie865-blog · 1 day ago

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I would love a Johnny storm x fem reader, maybe reader is reed assistant, and she becomes family to the fantastic 4 and Johnny has a huge crush on her, and tries to ask her out but chickens out at the last minute, but maybe an explosion happens in the lab or maybe the fantastic 4 are fighting and reader gets in the cross fire, Johnny rushes to her and brings her to hospital, and he doesn't leave her side until she wakes up and confesses his feelings

Keep the Johnny fics COMING!! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

The assistant

At first, Johnny mocked Reed for hiring an assistant. The smartest man in the world couldn't figure out how to work independently. Johnny teased and mocked Reed for a week straight when he found out.

The doorbell went off and Johnny jumped off the couch to answer it. "Must be assistant time! Let's see how old this one is." Johnny laughed as he opened the door.

But there wasn't an old man in a white coat on the other side. Instead, it was a young girl. She had a white coat, filled with pens, goggles, and other scientific things, he assumed. She was gorgeous and Johnny felt himself freeze.

"Hi! I'm Y/N, the new assistant. Is Reed around?"

Johnny melted at the sound of her voice. He was still in awe of how beautiful she was, silently. She blinked a few times while waiting for him to speak but he never did. He stepped aside, letting her walk in. He tried to shake off his nerves and open his mouth to say something.

"H-"

"There she is! I'm Reed," Reed said as he appeared out of nowhere. Johnny glared as Reed shook her hand and the two disappeared to the lab.

"Did you just freeze in front of a girl?" Sue giggled as she held Franklin.

Johnny turned to her and laughed it off. "What? Of course not." He quickly ran off, leaving Sue behind as she smiled knowingly.

~~~

That was the first time they met, now almost a year later Johnny still hadn't made the move. Y/N got close with the family, easily fitting in as she assisted Reed daily.

She even started joining them for family dinners. Ben always cooked the best food. Johnny claimed he helped, but she never arrived early enough for dinner to find out. She loved the team, they were like family. Except for the hot, blue-eyed, and golden-haired Johnny. She had a massive crush on him and she feared it was obvious.

Which it was, to everyone but Johnny. Reed picked up on it the second she walked in for the first time. She met Reed, and her first question wasn't about science, it was about Johnny.

Sue knew her little brother and she always knew when he had a crush. She found it funny that no matter how old he was, he never hid his crush well. She was surprised by how difficult this crush was though. She had never seen Johnny struggle to talk to a woman before. He was always smooth and charming about it. But with Y/N? He couldn't seem to be confident enough to do his usual Johnny moves. Sue adored that Johnny got nervous around a girl, it made her think this girl might be the real deal.

She talked to Ben like they had known each other for years. She helped Franklin as if she were a nanny. She and Sue talked about whatever girls talk about. She was glued to Reed's side, so Johnny could excuse that since it was work-related. She fit right in. She fit so perfectly that Johnny liked to imagine she was his wife. Even though she didn't live at the house...or was even dating Johnny. But it was a pretty picture he liked to paint.

Reed, Sue, Ben and probably even Franklin could see the spark between the two, and it wasn't from Johnny's powers. They all knew it was a matter of time before someone made the move. They were just curious who and when.

~~~

"Dinner is done," Johnny winked as he presented himself in the lab. Reed and Y/N looked up from their notes. Johnny smiled as he took in how beautiful she looked. Her safety goggles on, black gloves, her white coat, everything was gorgeous to Johnny.

"Ah, and did you help with it?" Y/N teased as she took off her gloves. Reed raised his eyebrows as Johnny giggled. He smiled to himself as he watched the two. Y/N tried not to eye Johnny up and down as she took him in. His pants were a light tan and he matched them with a blue sweater that really brought out his eyes.

Johnny walked over, ignoring Reed as he slipped between the two. His back to Reed and his attention on her. "Who do you think keeps the food hot?" He smirked. Reed mouthed wow to himself as he turned around. He took off his coat and gloves.

Y/N smiled at his answer. God, everything he did was hot. "You know, I have a question about your power," she stated.

Johnny was intrigued, loving that she was thinking about him. Even if it was for science.

"Yeah? What's that, sweetheart?"

"Can you heat somebody up without harm? You know, like if someone was cold," she asked. Her tone was flirtatious as she stepped closer. Johnny almost choked on his spit as she softly pressed her body against him.

At this point, Reed felt uncomfortable and quickly left the room. Johnny lightly moaned as she softly ran her hands on his arm. She was so close and smelled so good. His brain kept yelling to kiss her but he didn't have the courage.

"Yeah, I can," he said smugly, "but for you? I don't think I need my powers to make you warm," he whispered.

"DINNER!" Ben called as he let himself into the lab. The two jumped apart as his voice boomed off the walls. Y/N coughed embarrassed, feeling as if she was caught. She quickly stepped away and took off her safety gear.

"Yes, dinner! Sorry Ben," she said as she hurriedly went off to the kitchen.

Johnny turned to him with a look of murder. "You fucking giant! I was finally going to ask her out!"

"I don't believe you," Ben laughed as he walked away.

~~~

Another time Johnny wanted to ask her out, he chickened out. He was feeling confident, and he had a speech prepared. There were no interruptions. But when he opened his mouth to ask, no words came out. He kept trying but failed to speak.

"You okay?" She asked.

"Yeah!" Johnny said before he vanished in a flash.

Johnny was practicing his speech again in the mirror. He refused to give up. He wanted her so fucking bad. He needed to get a pair and ask her out. He risked his life like it was nothing. Yet, asking her out was terrifying.

He was in his room for around an hour when he walked out and headed towards the lab. He kept repeating the words to himself as he walked. He was nearly down the hall when a big blast came from the room. He ran straight in, panic in his eyes as Reed stood over Y/N.

"WHAT DID YOU DO!" Johnny screamed as he ran over. The explosion wasn't nearly as bad as it sounded. But she was close enough for it to knock her backwards and smack her head.

"A small explosion. She smacked her head, there's no blood so that's slightly good. Let's get her up and to the hospital." Reed said as he went to pick her up.

"I got her," Johnny said. He scooped her up in his arms like nothing and walked them out of the room. Once he made it outside, he launched himself into the air. He was terrified as he screamed for nurses and doctors. He didn't settle when they brought her back. He walked the halls up and down until they finally gave him news and allowed him into her room.

He was going insane. What if she didn't wake up? All that time he had with her and he never made anything about it. He had so many regrets and he wanted the chance for her to know he liked her. The chance to make her feel special.

Y/N groaned as she felt pounding in her heart. She could hear the sound of a machine beeping at a steady pace. She cracked open her eyes, adjusting to the bright white room. She went to move her hands to cover her eyes, but her hand was weighted down.

Her movement snapped Johnny awake. He was on his feet instantly and moved close to her face. "Hey, are you okay? Need water or anything?"

"Water," she said, he moved fast as he heard how dry her throat was. He placed it up to her mouth and held it as she sipped it. "Thank you."

"You scared the shit out of me," Johnny laughed. "I mean, I'm on my way to talk to you, and I hear this big blast. And you're on the floor! So I immediately yelled at Reed because you're too smart to mess up."

"Yeah...I told him that would happen," Y/N softly laughed. She groaned as she sat up. "Did you want to get home? I don't want you to feel like you have to stay."

"No, no I'm good right here. I'm not leaving you alone," he said. She smiled and nodded. She was excited to have his company.

"Well, what did you want to talk to me about?" She asked. He looked at her confused so she quickly clarified, "I mean before the blast. You were coming to talk to me."

Johnny scratched the back of his head as he felt the familiar nerves creeping in. This time, he didn't chicken out.

"Yeah, I actually wanted to ask you out. Like on a date," he confessed. She looked at him in shock. She knew they flirted but she figured it wouldn't mean anything to him. He probably gets flirted with all the time. She was a little assistant, nothing special. "I've been wanting to ask for a while but you make me nervous."

"Me?" She gasped. "I make you nervous? But you're Johnny Storm!" She calmed down from her excitement. "Wow, I mean I didn't expect that. But if you ever want to ask, I'll say yes."

Johnny smiled as he turned his head. "Yeah? You'll say yes?"

"Absolutely," she said softly. She reached over and softly placed her hand on his. He turned his hand around to hold hers.

"The second you are released, I'm taking you on the best date you've ever been on," he said as he kissed her hand.

"I count on it, Mr. Storm."

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katie865-blog · 2 days ago

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I've been loving your fantastic four fics 💕could I please request Johnny x reader where he rescues her and she's terrified of heights like "put me down....put me down! Right now!" And he's more used to his damsels in distress totally fawning over him 😍

Dual Purpose Muffins

Johnny Storm x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Masterlist

AN: Thank you for the compliment and the request! I fully wrote and posted this at work oops!!!! I’m still working through them all, please enjoy xoxoxo Comment and say hi! I love chatting with you guys and getting your opinions!

You weren’t sure how you ended up here.

One moment, you were strolling out of your favorite coffee shop with an iced latte, and the next, you were being lifted through the air—soaring above the Manhattan skyline.

And the one thing you really couldn’t handle?

Heights.

Your entire face was scrunched up in an effort to keep your eyes closed as tightly as possible, leaving no room for even a peek at the city below. You knew you were inhumanly high, you could tell by how long you've been on the air. You could feel the breeze and the immense heat surrounding your body, which made you curious. Against your better judgment, you peeked one eye open—only to see none other than Johnny Storm holding you bridal-style as he flew through the air.

“What the hell?!” you screamed at him..

“Don’t worry, I’m going to get you to safety, sweetheart!” he said with a cheeky grin and a wink.

“Safety?! WE’RE A MILLION FEET IN THE AIR—HOW IS THIS SAFETY?!”

“Calm down—”

Before he could continue, you yelled again, “CALM DOWN?! HOW ABOUT YOU PUT ME DOWN, THEN I’LL CALM DOWN! PUT ME DOWN.”

Moments later, Johnny landed just outside the Baxter Building. He set you down gently, but before he could say anything, you shoved yourself out of his arms, landing on all fours in the grass.

You took deep breaths, trying to control the nausea you felt, and when you finally opened your eyes, you saw Johnny bent over in front of you, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you alright? This usually goes... a lot better,” he said lightly chuckling.

“No, I am NOT alright. We were just above the literal Empire State Building. One flick away from OUTER SPACE. What did you expect? A kiss?” you snapped.

He stood up fully and offered you his hand, which you accepted—aggressively.

Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, he said, “Well, I mean... to be honest, yeah. This usually ends much better. A kiss, a date—Jesus, at least a hug and some praise. And we weren't exactly... that close to space.”

You glared at him and scoffed, you now had your hands on your knees, still trying to catch your breath. “Well, newsflash: I. Do. Not. Do. Heights,” you said, emphasizing each word.

“That building was coming down fast and you had your AirPods in. Literally everyone around you left, but you just stood there sipping your coffee. You would’ve almost looked cute... if it weren’t for the fact you were about to meet your demise.”

There was a bite to his words now, which made you roll your eyes.

“Alright, alright. Thank you for saving me, but let’s never do this again, okay?” you said, turning on your heels.

“Where are you going so fast?” he called after you.

Without turning around, you replied, “To call my therapist and tell her that, in fact, my fear of heights did not go away.”

And just like that, you left Johnny Storm standing in front of the Baxter Building.

As the days went on, you watched footage from the attack—footage that clearly showed Johnny Storm saving your life. There was even some blurry video of him literally sweeping you off your feet. Guilt started to settle in.

Six days after the incident, you found yourself standing on the front lawn of the Baxter Building with a tray of homemade muffins. You tapped your foot anxiously, mumbling to yourself, debating whether this was the stupidest idea ever.

“He literally saved your life. Muffins are the least you could do,” you reminded yourself.

Steeling your resolve, you stepped into the building. At the security desk, you explained why you were there, but the guards gave you skeptical looks.

“Listen,” one of them said, “we get little fangirls like you all the time. We’re not falling for the ‘I just want to repay the favor’ crap with your little tray of baked goods.”

You blinked in surprise, just about to snap back when the elevator doors slid open behind them.

“Hey Harry, thanks for holding down the fort, but I’ll take this one,” Johnny said, strolling over with his trademark swagger. He turned to you with a grin. “Can you handle the elevator, or is it too high for you, princess?” he teased, ending with a pout.

You rolled your eyes and took a deep breath. “You know what… I tried to be nice…” You turned to leave, but he stepped in front of you, gently grabbing your elbows.

“Hey, hey—I'm only kidding. Come on up,” he said, more sincerely this time.

You followed him into the elevator. It was taking you up to the penthouse, which, yes, was extremely high—but you’d be fine. As long as you didn’t look out any windows.

When you stepped out, you were blown away by the beauty of the place. Suddenly, your capris and blouse felt woefully underdressed.

It hit you: you were inside the personal living space of the Fantastic Four.

Johnny caught you staring and smirked, “So, what made you come back for a visit?” He motioned for you to sit on the couch, which you did, placing the muffins on the table.

“I was just feeling… guilty,” you admitted. “For how I acted the other day. You were trying to help, and I completely projected my fear onto you. These are apology and thank-you muffins. Dual purpose.”

He laughed, already eating one. “Dual purpose, huh? Not gonna lie, your reaction really threw me. But these muffins? Totally worth it. They're amazing. Do you bake a lot?”

You gave him a curious look, trying to figure out if he was being polite or actually cared. “Um, yeah. I’ve always wanted to open a bakery… but that doesn’t exactly pay the bills in this city.”

You weren’t sure why you shared that, but he smiled. You clicked your tongue indicating the end of the conversation, or so you thought.

“Well, I’m sure your next hot girl with a thank-you basket will be arriving any minute now, so I should get going,” you said, standing up and patting your knees.

“Well, actually… what would you say if I told you these were my first ‘I’m sorry for being mean and thank you for saving my life’ dual purpose muffins?” he asked with a smirk that made you blush.

You knew he was charming—you’d heard the rumors—but you didn’t expect to fall for it.Then again, you also never thought you’d find yourself in Johnny Storm’s living room. “I would say, that I’m not buying that” you said back, crossing your arms.

He smiled and shook his head. “No, really—all that stuff about me, even what I told you that day? They’re just rumors. I don’t actually go around expecting kisses from everyone I save. That could get messy real fast.”

You laughed quietly at his words as he got up and walked around the couch, meeting you on the other side, preventing you from exiting just yet. You looked up and tilted your head at him.

“Maybe… you could give me your number. You know, in case I need more muffins. Or some other baked goods,” he said, trailing off with a grin.

“You want my number… for baked goods purposes?” you asked, smirking, clearly egging him on. You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, waiting for his response.

He took a deep breath. “I kind of like your spunk. I don’t know… I guess I was hoping you’d let me take you on a date—now that we’ve made up from our fight.”

You laughed out loud. “We made up from our fight? What, are we a married couple now?”

He chuckled and smirked down at you. “We could be one day, sweetheart. I don’t think you’re giving me enough credit here.”

You laughed at him again. There was that nickname again. It made your stomach do a flip—you recall him using it the first day you met, amongst the panic.

“So… your number? And maybe dinner?” he asked, grinning widely, clearly pleased with himself for making you laugh.

You sighed and shook your head. “Alright.” You held out your hand, and he placed his phone in it. You typed in your number and name, then flipped the phone and handed it back.

“So it’s a date then?” he asked, hopeful.

“It’s a date, Johnny.”

You turned and left the Baxter Building. As you walked away, your phone dinged.

Johnny: How about tonight? Pick you up at 7?

You rolled your eyes, smiling, as you began to type your reply.

That night, you had the first of many dates with the one and only Johnny Storm.

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katie865-blog · 3 days ago

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They get along so well🥰

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katie865-blog · 3 days ago

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Get a Johnny!

Pairing: Johnny Storm x reader Word count: 3.9k

Description: Bad cramps don’t let you sleep. You hesitate to call Johnny because you think you’re not there with him yet, but after nothing helps, you give in. Turns out having a boyfriend with fire hot powers comes very in handy.

Tags/warnings: no spoilers, fresh relationship, hurt/comfort, johnny is full of himself and surprises, putting his powers to good use, flame on, banter, he sucks at making breakfast, fluffy and domestic johnny <3

Note: I literally can’t stop kicking my feet when writing this man, please enjoy another self indulgent sweet and funny piece 🫶🏼

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You curl tighter on your couch under a weighted blanket, shifting again and again, as if the next position will finally trick your body into forgetting the ache burning low in your stomach. It doesn't.

The cramps continue, a deep pressure that makes it impossible to find comfort. You've been like this all evening, a pad you heated way too long ago now laying useless on your lower belly, a half empty mug of tea forgotten on your coffee table, and the soft glow of the moon coming through the glass doors illuminating your tired face. It's well past midnight now, and you feel frustrated with your own body for not being able to get up to your bed, or at least just fall asleep right where you are.

You think of Johnny.

How easy it would be to press the little button on the watch he gave you, send him a quick message, and have him there. But your stomach knots for a different reason at the thought. He doesn't need to see you like this, cranky, bundled in mismatched pjs, curled up like some wounded thing. At least your ex boyfriend never wanted to deal with... this. The unglamorous parts.

Surely, in the short period of time you've been dating Johnny, he has proved a million times he's better than any other excuse of a guy. Every single one. Which is probably why you feel the need to protect keep things romanticized in some way.

You've spent nights with him before, heavenly late hours tangled in his sheets, or sleepovers at your place that stretched into lazy mornings. But those nights had always been planned to some degree. Wearing cute little shorts, soft perfume, or maybe nothing at all if things got heated, which was pretty often to be fair. But always with a little polish, a little effort, like you were still trying to show the best version of you.

Cramp.

You roll over, again, and tug your blanket higher. Try to gaslight yourself into believing you're fine. But the wave of pain twists through you, sharp enough that you press your face into the cushion to muffle a groan. Your chest tightens and you suddenly feel small.

Alone.

Your arm comes out of the blanket and your fingers drift to the watch on your wrist before you can stop yourself. You trace the smooth edge of the screen, remembering how proud Johnny was when he put it on you the first time, like he'd just given you the most thoughtful thing in the world. And he did, he meant it to make you feel safe, connected, never too far away from him.

Johnny it is, then.

That’s what you needed. Just him, next to you, being warm, and solid and distracting enough to pull you out of the spiral of despair. Your finger hovers over the screen for a few seconds and finally, after another wave of pain, you give in. One press and a ping gets sent to Johnny, all the way to the Baxter Building.

It's quite comical when you think about it. Johnny likes to call it a superhero signal, in case you ever need him. Just like right now.

Wait– but what if he's already asleep? What if he just reads it in the morning and–

The screen lights up almost immediately. A ping vibrates softly on your wrist with his reply.

"On my way."

It's interesting how just a few words from him, on a screen even, already give you some relief. You lay tucked in, eyes on the ceiling as you wait for his arrival. And before you know it, you hear those familiar soft footsteps on your balcony, followed by the hiss of the glass door sliding open.

You glance up eagerly, and there he is, Johnny Storm in all his sleeping clothing glory.

A soft white shirt with some blue striped pants, blonde hair sticking up in every possible direction from where he must've rolled out of bed, and that signature, charming smile on his face when he caught you bundled up on the couch.

He doesn't even wait for you to speak before stepping inside and crouching in front of you, one knee pressing into the carpet, his hand going up to gently brush some stray strands of hair off your forehead. The teasing smile softens as soon as he sees your face.

"I was starting to think you forgot about me," he jokes about not seeing you all day, still trying to make it light, but his eyes give him away.

They're worried. Worried that you've been feeling sick all day and didn't tell him, worried that you're curled up like this without him knowing.

"Why didn't you call me sooner?" he tilts his head, as his hand continues to stroke your hair.

You open your mouth, but your throat closes around the answer. You don't know how to explain the mix of embarrassment and stubborn independence. So instead, you shrug weakly.

"I guess ... I didn't want to bother you. It's just.... it hurts and I can't sleep, and–"

"Hey," he cuts in gently, thumb brushing over your temple. "C'mere," he leans forward in his crouched position, pulling your upper body straight into his chest. He's so warm it feels unfair, his arms wrapping around you like all day you should've been there. "You could never ever bother me, you need me and I'm here, end of the story."

You bite your lip, the edges of your embarrassment softening under the warmth of his voice. He pulls away just enough to look at you, trying to coax a smile out of you.

"Besides, if I knew you'd be curled up like a burrito in this blanket, I would've been here hours ago. You're basically begging me to make fun of you," he teases, earning a snort from you.

You try to tug the blanket higher over your face, but he only laughs and tugs it back down, playful, his fingers brushing your cheek. "There she is," he says softly, eyes searching yours. "My girl."

You smile, about to say something but another cramp tenses your body, and Johnny immediately pulls you to him again, your cheek over his heartbeat. He doesn't let go right away, you stay pressed against his chest until you stop clutching his shirt. Only when your breathing steadies, Johnny pulls back to study your face, his eyes narrowing in that way that makes you feel completely seen.

"Alright, sweetheart" he whispers, cupping your face. "Tell me how bad it hurts."

You gesture vaguely at your stomach, cheeks heating. "It's just... cramps. Really bad. I just wanted you here ...you don't have to–"

"Stop," he kisses your forehead before you can finish. "I do have to. It’s literally my only purpose as your hot, lucky boyfriend."

That earns a soft laugh from you, probably the first in hours, and he smiles satisfied.

"I'm gonna need you to wait here for me," he backs slightly to stand up, but you grab his hand.

"Wait, Johnny don't leave–"

"It's only a few minutes, alright?" he reassures, and only stands up when you nod hesitantly and drop his wrist. "Don't miss me too much, I know you like to see my face and all that–”

"Johnny, just go..." you chuckle, and he grins wider, saluting his way out the balcony.

The room feels colder as soon as he's gone, and you realize how his absence feels like missing sunlight. Like all day you've been lying under a cloud of rain. But sure enough, the cold doesn't last longer than five minutes, when he's landing back again with a triumph smile on his face as he makes his way to your kitchen.

You stare curiously from the couch at Johnny moving swiftly through it, with a raised hand in flames to illuminate the countertop. You hear cupboards opening, the soft clink of a mug being set down, and being filled with water. He rips open with his teeth a paper package he pulls from his pocket, placing the tea bag in the water. He makes his way back to you carrying the mug in one hand, as the other lowered his fire to just one flame under the mug to instantly heat it up. You sit down just in time as he arrives, a steaming cup of tea now in his hands, the scent instantly soothing.

"Careful, sugar" he smiles, handing the hot mug to you, "and ... take these," he reaches the pocket of his striped pants, pulling out a small plastic pill bottle.

"Painkillers haven't been helping much," you shake your head, sipping from your tea. He just kneels in front of you again, so he can be on eye level.

"These are special ones Reed made specifically for my sister, since she deals with pretty bad cramps too," he explains, opening the bottle and pouring two baby blue pills on his hand before handing them to you. "The tea is also his mixture, Sue says it helps a lot."

You stare at him in silence, melting in awe. You can't believe you had convinced yourself all day Johnny wouldn't want to deal with this. He does have a sister after all. And he's been raised right, partly by her. So you nod, taking the pills with a sip of tea, and set the mug on your coffee table before wrapping your arms around his neck. Your lips meet his, and it feels like you've been stupidly depriving yourself of your oxygen. He's soft with it, slowly savoring it like he's been missing you all day too, smiling against your tea flavored lips when he pulls apart for air.

The movement made the blanket around you fall open, revealing the heating pad lying crooked on your low belly. Johnny doesn’t even doubt.

"Trade me, babe" he says, taking the cold pad away before slipping his hot hand against your lower belly. The relief on your face is instant, like it was the last missing piece. "Let's keep that there, and drink this before I have to spoon feed you, because I will." he mocks seriousness, picking the mug from the table, guiding it to your lips.

You happily take a sip, smiling against the mug. "Since when are you so bossy?"

"Since you forget to take care of yourself," his tone is teasing, but his eyes are soft, lingering until you take another sip, so you do.

"Better?" he asks, half smug half relieved.

"Better," you nod, not even able to control your smile anymore. "You are ... simply the best, Johnny Storm," you praise wholeheartedly, starting to forget about the pain.

"I know, I know," he rolls his eyes playfully, lifting up from his crouching position without taking away his hand, before gesturing to your side. "Now, your portable heating pad's knees hurt, scoot."

You move over amused, and he sits next to you, his free arm instantly curling around your shoulders. His body always radiates heat, steady and overwhelming in the best way. You can't help but relax, your head finding its way to his chest as you sip the last of the tea.

"So much for a superhero," you tease now, making him gasp in feigned offense.

"This is after hours, babe," he defends, "besides, I've proven myself to be very useful," to make his point stronger, he takes the empty mug from your hand and places it away.

"Oh you have, fire boy," you nod, playfully placing a kiss on his chest as a thank you.

"See? You could've had this hours ago if you'd just called me," his hand rubs soothing circles along your arm. "And I mean it ... I wanna be here for you. All of it. Even this. Especially this."

"I know," you whisper, hugging him tighter, the ghost of a smile on your face. "I know, Johnny."

You cuddle in silence for a while, the pain quickly drifting away from the medicine and Johnny's unbelievable heat. Your hand slipped under his shirt a while ago, tracing patterns on his toned skin.

"You know what..." he breaks the silence, and you recognize the spark in his voice. "Forget space travel. I could make commercials about this. 'Tired of cramps? Get a Johnny!’”

"Yeah? I'm sure Ben would love to see that," you shake your head laughing, patting his chest but he catches your hand, lacing your fingers with his. "Lucky for me, I have my Johnny already," you lift your chin up to look at him.

"Yes, but yours comes with extra features," he wiggles his eyebrows, while his mouth keeps running just to coax more giggles out of you. "I'm just saying... heating mode, snuggle mode, horny sex god mode–"

"You're so full of yourself, Johnny."

"Why thank you," he kisses your temple, obnoxiously sweet. "Full of snacks, too. I also brought gummy bears," he says, and you tilt your head to find his smirk.

"You did not."

"Check my pocket," he nods excitedly, and you reach over his pants, accidentally grazing his crotch. "Wow–wow, not that pocket!"

You can't help but snort, reaching the right pocket this time. Sure enough, there's a little crinkled bag tucked inside. Your chest warms almost as much as your belly does under his palm. Johnny looks far too pleased with himself.

"See? I even brought candy to your midnight pity party" he says, already reaching the bag to grab two gummies. He pops one in your mouth before eating one himself.

"My pity party? I hate you," your offended voice comes out muffled from chewing the gummy.

"Except you love me," he shrugs smugly, reaching for more gummies to do the same again. One for you, one for him.

And damn this idiot, you do. Especially when he tilts his head to peck your lips, lingering with the candy's leftover sweet taste. You eat a few more in silence, only giggling when he attempts to throw one and catch it in the air and fails miserably, only for you to get it at the first try.

"Alright, alright ... that's enough," he crinkles the bag and puts it next to your empty mugs on the coffee table. "Sue would kill me if she sees me eating candy right now."

"You're just saying that cause you lost–"you attempt to tease, but a yawn takes over your voice, your eyes inevitably narrowing.

"I'm saying that because you need to rest," he corrects, already getting up. "C'mon, sweetheart, we're doing this right" he slides one arm under your knees and another around your back. "This couch isn't good enough for you."

The blanket stays wrapped around you, tucked close to your chest, while his warmth radiates through your whole body as he walks to your bedroom. He nudges the door open with his foot, and in a couple of strides reaches the bed. He lays you down softly, and places a kiss your forehead that makes you smile. For a second, he just looks at you, messy hair, tired eyes, and you swear he couldn't look more in love.

Then, without warning, he starts tugging the blanket away.

"Hey!" you protest, clutching it tighter around you. "Johnny, I need that," you complain, but he just smirks, leaning over you.

"Wrong! You got me now. I'm waaay better than some blanket."

"You gave me this blanket."

"Yeah, well, now I'm taking it away," he shrugs, smiling condescendingly.

You groan, half laughing, trying to wrestle the blanket back, but he wins easily, tossing it onto the floor with a winning grin.

"There. Much better," he says, and before you can complain about him washing it, he slides in beside you, embracing your body with his.

The heat of him hits immediately, wrapping you far warmer and softer than the blanket ever was. His arm goes around your waist, palm flattening over your stomach again, radiating that gentle, steady warmth. The way you relax into his body makes him smile.

"See?" he mumbles against your hair. "Told you, babe, way better," he tugs you closer to his chest, pulling the covers of your bed over you.

One hand stays over your stomach, spreading heat exactly where you need it, while the other strokes slow, soothing patterns down your back. You listen to his heartbeat for a while, the rhythm grounding you more than anything else has all day.

This isn't another night where you prepped yourself the whole day to smell like literal heaven when he tasted your skin. Tonight is different. You're in mismatched faded pjs, hair undone, tired face. And he doesn't look at you like you're any less. If anything, his eyes are softer, more focused, like this is the you he'd been waiting to see.

"You know," he says after a long silence, voice getting lower with sleep, "this is my favorite look on you."

"I look awful," you groan, burying your face in his chest.

"Yeah, awful ... totally hideous. Which is why I'm keeping you forever," he chuckles, like it's a joke, but his words always hold more meaning to them.

You lift your head just enough to meet his blue eyes. The way he’s looking at you makes you realize this might be the most intimate night you’ve ever shared. And you’re happy.

Johnny can feel it. The way your body melts against his, the way your breathing evens out. And then suddenly your eyes are fluttering shut, lips parted slightly.

“Sleep babe, I got you,” he whispers, pressing a feather light kiss to your forehead.

And with his body pressed against yours, his heartbeat steady under your ear, you finally drift off. Safe, held, and cared for in every way that matters.

The first thing you notice when your eyes blink open is warmth. Not just the weight of his arm still around your waist, or the way his chest rises steady beneath your cheek, but the faint heat radiating from his palm, still exactly where it had been all night, like he never once let go. You shift, slow and careful, and he feels it.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Johnny mumbles, in his deeper morning voice. You tilt your head just enough to see him, his blonde hair even messier than last night, eyes heavy lidded and a lazy smile. “How you feeling?”

“Mmm, it doesn’t hurt,” you hum, snuggling into his chest.

“Told you, babe. Human torch heating pad, runs all night and never shuts off,” he drawls, joking even when he’s still half asleep.

You chuckle, and try shifting out of his arms, just enough to stretch, enough to maybe get up and get cleaned up. But the second you move, Johnny makes a low groan in his throat, instantly clinging tighter.

“Nope,” he mumbles. “I’m still in service. You can’t get up yet.”

You laugh softly against his chest. “Johnny, I need to–“

“Shhh,” his nose nuzzles into your hair, lips brushing the your head. “Don’t argue with Johnny.”

There it is, the third person his family always mocked him about. It should be ridiculous, really, but it’s also so him that your heart squeezes. He’s lying there with messy hair and the bedsheets wrinkles imprinted on his cheeks, clinging to you like it’s the best place he could be in, and somehow you love him more for it.

So you don’t argue, you don’t tease. You just let yourself sink back into him, curling closer, your hand finding its way under his shirt to rest against his warm skin. His grip softens a little at that, enough to let you breathe, but he doesn’t let go.

“That’s better,” he beams, satisfied. “Knew you’d see reason.”

Your laugh bubbles out before you can stop it, and you happily melt into his arms. Eventually, after a while of drifting between sleep and squinting at the soft sunlight coming through your windows, your stomach betrays you. It growls loud enough that Johnny finally cracks one eye open and smirks.

“Hungry?” he teases.

“Starving. I only had those gummy bears last night,” you shift against him, trying to sit up.

“Nope,” he says, gently holding you back down. “You stay. I’ll bring you something,” he orders, already rolling out of bed like he wasn’t in deep sleep just a few minutes ago.

“Johnny, angel, I love you but … you’re a literal fire hazard in any kitchen,” you look at him apologetically as you sit up.

“Excuse you, haven’t I proved by this point you’re in good hands?” He presses a dramatic hand to his chest, pretending to be wounded. You just raise your eyebrows at him, so he leans forward to press a kiss right between your frown. “I love you too, by the way.”

You bite back a smile, shaking your head. He makes his way to the door now, hair sticking up, crinkled shirt, striped pajama pants hanging low on his hips. He stops to point at you before walking out. “Don’t move, breakfast in bed.”

You smile with tight lips, pretending to be excited until he turns around and you can flop back in bed, knowing this is going to be a disaster. Because as ironic as it sounded, he’d been close to burning down your kitchen before. You guess he’s just not used to the fact that only the Baxter Building was fireproof from head to toe.

As expected, when your stomach wins out and you walk into the kitchen moments later, the first thing you see is Johnny leaning over the stove, hand glowing as he absorbs fire out of the frying pan. Smoke curls toward the ceiling, and the smell of something close to charred fills the air.

“What are you doing?” you lean in the doorway, arms crossed as you bite back a smile.

Johnny straightens instantly, tucking the pan behind him and airing out the smoke with his hand like that’ll somehow help. Unfortunately for him, when he moved the pan behind his back, a fried egg, or what used to be one, flops onto the floor. Suspiciously black, yet his grin is far too casual as he steps in front of it to hide it. “What? Nothing to see here. Everything’s under control. Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Uh huh,” you arch a brow, trying not to laugh.

He sighs defeated, placing the pan back on the counter and leaning to pick up the burnt ‘breakfast in bed’ from the floor. He mutters a curse as he throws it away, only to turn to you right after like nothing happened.

He lifts his hands up smiling, holding his index fingers up as if to say ‘wait up’. He goes through your cabinets, letting out a small cheer when he finds what he was looking for.

“Lucky for you, sweetheart… you got your very own Johnny Storm cereal,” he pulls out the box, holding it with one hand and pointing his face on the cover with the other. “Only the finest, of course. Your favorite.”

“That’s your favorite,” you argue, narrowing your eyes.

You think he’s about to protest but he’s too busy shoving his hand inside the box, eyes opening wide in excitement as he reaches what he was looking for. The mini human torch that came in the cereal.

‘Flame on!’ ‘Flame on!’ ‘Flame on!’

“Got another one for your collection, babe!” he beams, already walking over to the shelf display on your living room.

He finds the other identical plastic toys lining up there, and adds a third to your surprisingly growing collection. You shake your head as he strolls toward you all happy.

“Now you have three Johnny’s,” he cheers, his hands instinctively going to your waist when he reaches you.

“I have four,” you correct, draping your arms on his shoulders to bring in him close enough to almost kiss. “You’re my favorite one, though.”

Lovely divider by @enchanthings

Thank you so much for reading! feedback is always appreciated 🫶🏼

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katie865-blog · 4 days ago

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look at him look at him look at him look at him

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katie865-blog · 5 days ago

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Someday you'll fall for me

Johnny Storm x Reader

Summary: Johnny Storm knows you will fall for him one day and is willing to wait until you do

Warnings: Suggestive innuendo (No adult content). Fem reader. No use of Y/N. A tiny, tiny bit of angst, but only if you squint. An excessive use of the word sigh (But it's on purpose) Words: 3K

AN: Back at it with Johnny Storm. I'm meant to be writing a Superman imagine and a Stranger Things Fanfic on A03. Johnny Storm won't leave me alone.

"Someday you're going to fall for me," Johnny says ever so casually one day. You looked up from your notes with a raised eyebrow. "Unlikely." You simply said Going back to your notes. "You will." He wiggled his eyebrows at you. You sighed and almost slammed your notes down.

"No, I won't. Firstly, you are a complete flirt and you want every woman you see. I'll just be another name in your long list. Not really my type. Secondly, I work for you. Correction. I work for Reed. You are his brother-in-law. Complete power imbalance. We fight. I get fired. I don't want to be fired."

"Fired?" He gave you a cocky grin. You rolled your eyes at him. "Johnny. I'm working." You reminded him. "See. Do you want to know why I think you'll fall?" You didn't want to entertain him. Not in the slightest, but you were curious. "Why?" "Because your answer was unlikely. Not impossible. Meaning even you think there's a chance."

You wanted to punch him. "That's not what I meant, and you know it." You tried to get back to your notes, but he spoke again. "I think you are beautiful." "Thank you." You didn't look up from your notes. "You think all women are beautiful, so it's not really a compliment." "You'll change your mind." "Impossible." You looked up directly into his eyes. There was a hint of mischief.

------- His attempts never stopped.

"What would you rather?" He walked into your lab. Arms crossed behind his back. "I'd rather you left me alone." You said before he finished. "Be blind or be deaf?" He continued anyway. You were never going to finish your work. "Deaf. So I don't have to listen to your stupid questions." You huffed. "So you still want to be able to see me. I get it. You think I'm hot."

"Johnny." You sighed. "I love it when you sigh my name." He leaned back on a bench. "Stop putting words in my mouth." You put your hands on your hips. "You're right. I'd much rather put dinner in your mouth." "That wasn't as smooth as you think it was. If the women you take to dinner fall for that, then I'm concerned for them." "I haven't taken a woman out for dinner, or anything else. In quite some time."

"Oh no." You were so done with him. "I want to take you out." "Like murder? Or?" "Was that you flirting?" He put his hand to his chest with a fake gasp. "Johnny. No. No, it wasn't." "You're going to fall for me." He sung. "No, I won't."

He made a noise like he did not believe you before leaving.

-------

You were sitting, eating lunch with Sue. Johnny walked in with some coffee. Made exactly the way you like it. "Madame." He held it out. "Thank you, Johnny." It would be impolite not to thank him, especially in front of his sister. "You're welcome." He turned to Sue. "I didn't get you anything." He gave a fake grin. She rolled her eyes.

He continued to stand there. "Do you need something, Johnny?" Sue questioned. "I need this lovely lady to marry me and have 10 children." You almost spat your coffee out. "10?!" You repeated. "Ha! You protest the 10 children but not the marriage." He pointed a finger. "I'm winning."

"Johnny." You warned. He did a little spin and left. "What was all that about?" Sue looked between you and the now shut door. "Johnny is convinced I'm going to fall in love with him. He's been acting like this for days now." "How's it going?" She probed. "Not good in his favour. I'm not interested in being another notch... no offence." You winced when you realised who you were talking to.

"I can't deny he's had his fair share. But when Johnny falls. He falls." She shrugged. "Do you honestly think he's fallen for me?" "Maybe. I mean. I've seen him try and give up. I'd say if he's still like this in a week. He's totally fallen."

-----

You had popped out to get some fresh air. The experiment you had been working on has led you nowhere, and you needed the air to think. The problem was that it was cold out.

You sat on a bench thinking and rubbing your hands together in hopes of generating some heat when a certain flame hero appeared beside you.

"Are you following me?" You looked up at him. "No. I just followed the sound of angels singing and found you. May I?" He pointed to the seat next to you. "You may." He sat down.

"Do you..." You began to ask, but stopped. "What?" "Do you ever get frustrated..." You glared at him when he smirked. "Johnny." "You need to say my name more often." He smiled.

"I'm trying to ask a serious question." You rubbed your hands together. "Go on." He waved his hands. "Do you ever feel frustrated that you're job isn't going well? My experiments have been going wrong all day, and I can't figure out why."

It was his turn to sigh. He gently took your hands. He did it without thinking. He rubbed them together the same way you were. To keep them from the cold. "I'm an astronaut." He focused on your hands. If he looked at your hands right now instead of your eyes. He would feel less vulnerable. "I've been to space once, and you saw what happened. Yes. I know what it feels like."

You moved your hand to hold his properly. "I'm sorry, Johnny, I didn't think. Sometimes I forget. Obviously I know you went to space. But because of 'The Fantastic Four', I forget the reason you went up." "No matter." He shrugged it off. "If I hadn't, I wouldn't be the human torch, and I wouldn't be able to warm up your icicle hands

"Thank you." You smiled at him genuinely. Not something you did often. You didn't hear it, but his breath caught in the back of his throat. "So... do you feel the cold? Can you tell it's cold now or?"

It was his turn to smile. "I can feel the cold. But I change my temperature to compensate. Everything feels the same. Although. Your fingers feel like icicles. Or at least they did before I came to your rescue." "What about the summer?" "The same." "So you're warm all the time?" "Yeah." He seemed lost in thought. Maybe two could play his game. You shouldn't encourage him, but he seemed lost.

"Well, I guess when we spoon, we can't in the summer." You gave a dramatic sigh. He looked at you like a deer in headlights. "What?" You laughed. You couldn't help it. "Oh, you're joking." He realised. "I thought I'd won." "Letting you win would be no fun." You crinkled your nose. "I'd best get back to my experiments. See you later, Johnny." You took your hand back from his. But not without brushing every finger of his.

-----

Damn that Johnny Storm. You couldn't stop thinking about the way he just took your hands to keep them warm. He wasn't even trying to flirt; he was just being nice. Out of everything he's done the past week, this is what got you? All the grand gestures, and it was the one he didn't even think about?

No. You hadn't fallen. No.

"What are you thinking about?" You jumped in fright. You hadn't noticed he had entered your lab. "Johnny." You held your hand to your chest. "Well, yeah. But you're always thinking about me." He pretended to push hair that he didn't have behind his shoulder. "But what else were you thinking about?"

Obviously, you had in fact been thinking about him. But you needed to come up with a lie. "Ben. I was thinking about Ben." "Ben?" He repeated. "Sure. Okay. What were you thinking?" "So if you're always warm. Is he rock inside? Are his organs rock too?" "That's what you're thinking about? What you're so deep into thought that you didn't hear me enter or call out your name twice?"

"These are the questions of the universe. A scientific mind like mine has to know these things." "He's not. It's only his skin that's rock." Johnny sat down on a stool. "Interesting." You nodded.

"So..." He had that mischievous look on his face. "Here we go." You sat down too. "You thought about that question because you thought about me. Which means sometimes you think about me." "You just said I always think about you." You pointed out. "Yeah, but I was joking... unless it's not a joke?" The last part, his voice went slightly higher. Almost the sound of hope.

"Johnny." You sighed again. "Why do you want me to fall so badly? Just to say you won? What would you do if I did? Move on to the next challenge?"

He looked down at the floor. Then back up at you. "I'd take your hand." He did in fact take your hand. "I'd pull you close and never let you go." "Until the next girl." You scoffed, pulling your hand away. "There is no next girl." "Johnny. I'm not buying it. I'm sorry, but no. You're a friend, but I'm not blind. You've said yourself. You love women."

He stood up and began to walk away. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand before turning back to you. "Do you remember the day you came into the labs. It had been raining, and you hadn't dressed for it, so Sue rangled up clothes, and she found you that oversized Fantastic Four sweater? You had to wear it all day. It was far too long. It looked like a dress. Every time someone looked at you, you burst out laughing because you actually loved it."

"Yeah. I remember. I still wear it to bed sometimes. That was a year ago." "That was it. That was when I fell for you. And I fell hard. Harder than I've ever fallen before. Check the visitor log. The security log. I've not had a female guest since that day. I know I can't force you to love me. I know I've had more girlfriends than you can count on your fingers. But I had hoped you, my friend, would believe me." And he walked out of your lab.

----

Johnny stopped coming around to your lab every day. In fact it had been about a week since you saw him. You hated to admit this, but you missed him. You found yourself looking towards the door. Waiting for his distraction. His weird little questions or declarations of love.

At your next lunch date with Sue, she knew something was wrong. "What's up?" She tilted her head. She reached out and held your wrist; your hand was gripping onto your drink. Knuckles white.

"I think I messed up." You admitted. "I upset Johnny." You were suddenly worried about what his big sister would say to that. But she remained calm. "I wondered what had happened. He's been spending most of his time in his room listening to music... loudly." The way she looked at you told you all she needed to know.

"He was still trying to get me to fall for him. And I told him that... I told him that I knew what he was like with women, and I didn't want to be the next until someone else came along. He said I was the one, and I basically said... I didn't believe him." You closed your eyes in frustration with yourself "Oh. Ouch." Sue sat back. She wasn't sure what to say. He was her little brother, but she also knew what he was like.

"It gets worse." You warned. "As he left. The last thing he told me was he's been in love with me since that day in the rain, and you got me that oversized sweater." "That was a year ago." "I know." You winced, running your hands down your face. "He said he's never fallen so hard, and he's not been on a date since."

Sue looked into the distance for a moment. "Come to think about it. He's right. I haven't seen him with a girl in a long time..." "Sue, I feel awful." You admitted. "Right." She sat forward. "He can't make you love him. Only you can decide that. Don't let this sway your mind. Before this argument. How did you feel about him?"

"When he first started his plan, I... Yeah. I've always thought he was attractive." You tried not to blush at telling his sister this. "And he made me laugh. And annoyed me to no end but in an endearing way." "And now?" "He warmed my hands up when they were cold. He opened up to me about a personal matter, and it felt like the first time I saw him truly. He wasn't just Johnny anymore. He was more than that. And since not talking to me... I miss him so much."

"I think, as much as you didn't want to. I think you've fallen." "I think you're right." "Go fix it. Before it's too late." "Now?" "Now."

------

You stood outside his bedroom door. Sue was right. He was playing music loudly. How you couldn't hear ot from your lab, you'd never know. You knocked once. Twice. Nothing. You lifted your hand for a third, and the door swung open.

"What?" He said, annoyed. His face softened slightly when he saw you - slightly. "Hello." He rested slightly on one hip. Hand still on the door as if he was ready to slam it shut at any moment.

"I er..." You paused. Your mouth dry. What could you say? "Do I leave you that tongue tied?" He teased, but the look on his face didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yes." You gave a breathy laugh. "Come on." He rolled his shoulders. "I was open to you about my feelings. You hurt me, and now you're kicking me when I'm down."

You looked around the floor to make sure you were alone before giving Johnny a slight push into the room. Making sure the door closed behind you. "What are you doing?" He protested. "I'm not having this conversation out in the wild. I'm here to..." You paused. "Tell you what I think. What I feel. And I'd rather not have an audience."

"What you think? What you feel? I have no idea what you're meaning." "You've been flirting nonstop. Putting words into my mouth. Don't chicken out at the last moment. You know exactly what I mean." "I'm genuinely lost." "Johnny." You sighed and looked at the floor. This was a defeated sigh.

"Hey." He stepped closer and lifted your chin. "What are you saying? What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?" "You. You won. I've fallen for you, and this past week you've not spoken to me has been torture. Every time the door opens, I look up, hoping it's you, but it's not. I miss your jokes. Your smile. I know I upset you, Johnny, and you probably changed your mind about me, but you won." "You fell?" He repeated. "Yeah."

He took a step back and fist-pumped the air. "Yes!" He cheered. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to say that." "Johnny?" You tried to bring him back to earth. "What?" You pointed to yourself "Oh. Oh... Oh." It was like he was celebrating something he hadn't thought about, and now he was thinking about it.

"Yeah." You suddenly felt hot under his intense gaze. He put both of his hands on your face. One on each cheek. His thumbs brushing your cheekbones. "Can I kiss you?" "I was hoping you would." He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. They were as warm as his hands in the cold weather. One hand remained on your face while the other slid to your hip, pulling you closer.

"Johnny." You sighed. "I love it when you sigh my name." "Johnny."

He pulled away but kept his forehead on yours. "You really fell?" He ran a hand through your hair. "You told me I would. You were quite adamant." "I did doubt for a moment. Back in the lab." "I shouldn't have said what I did."

"No. You're right. I've not exactly got the best reputation. But I mean it. You are it. I'm yours. I want nobody else. You are my girl. There's no next. Just you and me." "I believe you." You gave him a quick peck. He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you back for a longer kiss.

"I mean it too." You pulled away. "No spooning in the summer." "Oh. I see how it is." He wrapped his arms around you, trapping you. "We can spoon now. It's cold." You hugged him right back. "The human water bottle." "You only want me for my heat." "That was when I fell. Maybe I already had. But that night on the bench. You weren't even trying, and I fell so hard. I haven't been able to think about anyone else since."

He couldn't help but grin at that. But it fell from his face instantly. "Wait. So you were lying when you asked about Ben?" "Of course I was lying!" You laughed. "You!" His mouth opened and closed.

"Just so you're aware. Your sister is probably outside your bedroom door waiting for us." "We can tell her the happy news?" "Yeah." You smiled.

"Someday you're going to be my wife." "Johnny!"

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katie865-blog · 5 days ago

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You Know, You Know Where You Are 🚀 | Johnny Storm Imagine

Marvel Masterlist | Part 2

Characters & Pairings: JQ!Johnny Storm x Earth-828!reader & Earth-616!reader

Content Warnings: angst, fluff, happy ending, kinda sad, mentions of violence, spoilers for FF:FS, speculation for A:DD, reader has powers like Static from DC | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 2.7k

Premise: Johnny Storm was already coming to terms with adjusting to the reality he and his fellow Fantastic Four family landed in a parallel universe--one where superpowered heroes and villains were not so surprising as they protected the planet from domestic and intergalactic threats. But when a certain Avenger makes their grand appearance, Johnny begins to question his feelings toward the owner of her name and face a universe away. Someone he will stop at nothing to get back to, even if he dies trying.

songs that inspired this: Let Down by Radiohead & Birds of a Feather by Billie Eilish. this will have a part 2!!

“God, what would we do without you, Y/n?”

“Probably get yourselves killed,” she snorted, handing him a water bottle and towel to wipe the sweat off his face. Her eyes sparkled with mischief like they always did when they bantered, but underneath there was a softness reserved only for him. “Or worse, find yourselves in a place far far away.”

It was almost comical how those words seemed to surface the moment Johnny and his family were introduced to Sam Wilson's team of Avengers. And when she entered the room via materializing out of nowhere--scaring the shit out of the Four which immediately turned into shock, followed by grief. The reality of their situation sinking in.

They were in another world. They were far from home.

Just like she warned them.

“You’re late, Static,” Sam scolded, unaware of the reactions of the multiversal guests in the room. Reed felt his breath catch, Sue visibly teared up. Ben bore a disheartened look. And Johnny….Johnny was unable to put a word to describe what he was feeling.

“Johnny, please--.”

“Nothing is going to happen to us, doll. We’re space professionals at this point.”

“I know you think it’s silly, but my intuition has never failed and right now it’s screaming that you guys need to let this go. This anomaly Reed wants to find out there that’s connected to Doom…something isn’t right.” Her eyes pleaded with him, filled with a worry he’d never seen since they defeated Galactus four years prior, “Please, don’t go.”

He stood frozen. Feeling cold--which was ironic given the sun levels of heat bubbling within him. Like Sue, he felt himself wanting to tear up. A sinking in his chest as he stared at the woman beside Sam, bearing the identical face of someone the Four held dear to them, but so different.

In place of a lab coat and goggles was a tactical suit compiled of mechanics and weapons. Instead of a clipboard in her hand was a mask made of metal she initially detached when she arrived. Revealing her face to the newcomers which caused their brains to scramble.

“You know you’re my best friend, right?”

“I thought that title was reserved for Ben.”

“Ben is my brother--anyway back to the point--you’re my best friend, Y/n. And you know I’ll do anything to protect you. You don’t have to worry about us--Reed’s got everything under control, Sue will keep us in line as always, and Ben is the best damn pilot on the planet. And me? I bring the fire. Doom doesn’t stand a chance.”

And God, when she spoke, she sounded the same.

“Sorry, boss. Things were getting a little heated in Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Everything cleared and secured?”

She gave a salute, “As always. No casualties, no inconveniences." Sam appeared pleased, nodding and moving his attention back to the center table where their plans for a strategy were drawn up.

Johnny let out a shudder breath--which pretty much was a strangled gasp, loud enough to draw everyone’s gaze toward them. Who all quickly pieced together the Four’s stares were directed at their recent arrival.

“Uhhh,” she straightened her posture upon glancing up to see the newcomers, four men and a woman, one man with an orange rocky exterior whose build could rival Bruce in Hulk form. A lanky gentleman with salt and pepper hair like Strange, and two blondes with similar features. Both with sparkling blue eyes that could put even the shiniest sapphires to shame. Their suits were matching white and blue, retro styled and ribbed. They stood out compared to the swarm of latex and leather tactical suits holstering dozens of machinery.

Oblivious to the group's goggling and scanning each of their faces, unable to decipher if they came in peace or were a threat, Y/n’s head tilts with confusion, “Hi?” When none of them responded, she leaned toward Sam, whispering, “why are they staring at me like that?” Eyes flickering to the group and back, she added, “Oh, and who are they?”

Sam assessed the Four, frowning when he came to a theory he wasn’t sure he wanted to voice. “This is the Fantastic Four, Static. They’re from Earth-828--entered our universe last week.”

Static released a sound, followed by a nod. “So they were the odd-shaped spaceship I saw on the news.” Come to think of it, she recognized the distinct 4 on their suits. “That doesn’t answer why they are staring at me like I just slaughtered a herd of children.”

Bucky grumbled at her choice of words, pinching the pinch of his nose like a tired father.

Johnny, however, couldn’t stop the name from leaving his lips, filled with the emotion he was battling beneath his skin. “Y/n.”

That shot her eyebrows to her hairline, eyes bulging. “Oh, that’s a plot twist.” It dawned on her then what their reactions to her indicated. The shock remained on her face as she leveled it on Sam, “Thanks for the head’s up, Cap.”

Sam shot her a look, “We didn’t know until just now, L/n.” He turned to address the Four, keeping his tone calm as he proceeded with caution. They’d been dealing with variates and alternate personas now that they discovered Victor von Doom bore the same face as their late friend, Tony Stark. Therefore, the Captain expected at some point they’d connect one of their own to a variant of the other team's world.

“Guys, meet Static,” he introduced carefully, noting the way their brows pinched, face consorting to light frowns. “Or, as you might know her as, Y/n L/n.”

Y/n, still processing the revelation as it unfolded before her, gave an awkward wave to the stunned heroes. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Her hand dropped to her side when none of them waved back, their brains scattered. “So, um,” scratching her chin she clicked her teeth. “I take it you have a version of me from where you came from?”

Reed, blinking rapidly to pull himself from his thoughts, stepped forward with a nod. “Yes. Yes we do.”

“Cool,” was her reply, pausing briefly to lick her lips as she tilted her head with curiosity. “So…who was I? To you?” There was no denying it fascinated the Avenger that she existed in parallel universes. Since discovering the multiverse, Y/n wondered what other versions of her were out there and who they were in those worlds.

Was she a hero? A villain? A regular civilian with no ties to the life of saving the universe?

Was she a scientist? A shop owner? Did she have multiple degrees or did she flunk out of school?

A million questions, a million possibilities. Now here in the flesh was an opening to one of those questions. And boy did she want to know.

Reed answered first, “You’re my collaborator.” At her puzzled reaction, Sue gently added, “You’re a brilliant scientist--one we’ve had the honor of working with for years.” What she wanted to also say was, “We wouldn’t be the Fantastic Four without you always being there to catch us when we fall.” Because at the end of the day, Sue may have been the heart of the family, but Y/n was the glue that kept them together.

She’d talk down Reed when he’d overthink. She’d assure Sue of her concerns, validating her feelings. She’d bring out the soft side of Ben when his walls were built. And she’d be the shoulder for Johnny to lean on when the weight of the world came crumbling down.

Next came Ben, offering a hesitant smile, “You’re family to us,” and her face softened at the words. Feeling the weight of them as the rest of their expressions matched his.

Finally, her eyes traveled to Johnny. And when he finally found his voice, all he could utter was a weak, “You’re my best friend.”

After introductions, long hours of strategizing, and a dinner consisting of Chinese takeout, Johnny sat on the balcony of floor 82 overlooking the New York skyline. It felt strange. Gazing down at the city vastly different from the one he grew up in. Of course, it still held the same chaotic, fast-paced environment, but it lacked the things that made his New York home.

No flying police cars. No boxed televisions. Hardly any payphones. And instead of people engaging in conversations as they walked down the streets, they were glued to hand held devices.

Then there was Y/n. The Y/n of Earth-616. After the initial meeting between the Fantastic Four and the variant of their dear friend back home, Johnny located a computer to do a little digging. And the internet was happy to deliver.

In the short few minutes it took to google her name, Johnny learned the hero had been a recruit of Tony Stark to the Avengers in 2015 during the team's infiltration of Hydra installations. After she’d been orphaned as a child, the group captured her for experimentation, where she was exposed to high levels of radiation granting her the powers of manipulating electromagnetism. And when she joined the Avengers, assisting them in their operations of saving the world from domestic and intergalactic threats, they dubbed her Static. As when she phased or used her powers, a red and blue hue ignited around her along with a crackling sound, like a television static during an interference.

She was a walking electric current. Able to drain batteries, powerlines, electrocute people upon touch. Like Sue, she can generate forcefields. One article stated she had the ability to sense electromagnetic energy. Another read her power pretty much linked her to the electromagnetic fields of both the sun and Earth. And given electricity ran through the heart, chances are she’d be able to stop or restart the vessel. Making her not only an important ally, but a dangerous threat.

Even Professor X, leader of the superhuman species called mutants from Earth-10005, says her power would label her an Omega-level mutant in their world.

The more Johnny read about Y/n--Static--the more he felt far from his Y/n back home. The two were so different from one another. They shared a name and face, but their history and lives went separate directions. On opposite spectrums really.

Dr. L/n was a Berkley graduate of Astrophysics. Collaborator and longtime friend of the Fantastic Four, responsible for discovering the existence of wormholes being jump points to different areas of the universe. Cementing her name in history with each publication she added into the field.

Static cemented her own name in history as a superhero of unfathomable ability. She fought robots, aliens, and terrorists. She’d traveled through time to stop to restore the universe when half the population vanished with a snap.

Yeah, they couldn’t be any more different from each other.

“You know, most people when they have an early morning usually try to get as much sleep as they can the night before.” The sudden intrusion made him flinch, gaze landing on Y/n, who’d phased through the glass doors of the balcony. “Too many thoughts running through your brain.”

He relaxed, returning his attention to the city below, elbows leaned on the railing. “You could say that.”

There was a pause in the air before she spoke again. “Although I can’t relate to what you and your friends are feeling,” she approached his side carefully, “I understand this is difficult for you.”

“Which part?” He tried to joke but it came out as a weak scoff.

“All of it,” there was no need to sugarcoat the truth, the hero leaning on the railing so she was facing him. “Landing in a parallel universe. Discovering it’s filled with superpowered beings like yourselves. Trailing a madman who wants your nephew.” Another pause, her tone lowering with caution. “Me.”

Johnny lifted his head, frown deepening as their eyes locked, unsure of how to respond to her accusation. If one can really call it an accusation. Obviously he and the rest of the Fantastic Four hadn’t shied away from showing the effect Y/n had on them. They hardly took their eyes off her during the meeting. Eyes continuously flicking between the draw board, Sam, and her even when the attention wasn’t on her. Johnny even had to have things repeated because of the distraction.

“I’m not saying it to be rude,” she explained. “Or to make things difficult for you and your family. Seeing variants of people you care for is not for the faint of heart--especially when they are polar opposites. Given the information you mentioned earlier about my variant, I’m not…” she gestured to her to her attire and the WatchTower, “who I am here.”

His slow nod confirmed her statement, and she let out an exhale. “That being said, we have to work together to fight Doom--who as we’ve established, looks identical to our--,” the ‘our’ referencing the Avengers, “--late friend Tony.”

He’d forgotten about that. A pivotal detail of their situation which had most, if not all, the Avengers--new and returning--consumed with dread at the reality their enemy was a man wearing the same face as Tony Stark. Even team members who’d never met him, only known by reputation and legacy, felt unease.

And for those like Y/n, it gave a whole another meaning to the phrase, “you either die a hero, or you live long enough to see yourself become a villian.” In this case, Tony died a hero, and in another world a man named Victor von Doom lived to become a villain,

“You have to…” She waved a hand, fighting to find the words, “throw away this version of me you have in your head--or-or push it to the back of your head for the time being. As harsh as it sounds,” her tone shifted with borderline remorse. “I’m not your best friend.”

Johnny’s jaw clenched, heart skipping with the wave of sadness despite the truth in her words. It was a weight on his chest, migrating down his body until it took over every inch, making his eyes well with unshed tears. So powerful it made him look away, unable to meet her gaze.

“I’d like us to become friends,” her voice turned soft, offering a gentle smile even though he refused to look at her. “We’re teammates now--with a common enemy and shared goal.” She watched him nod, silently agreeing as he swallowed the saliva that’d built in his throat. “Think we can do that?”

For a second he didn’t speak. Letting her offer linger while he focused his attention on the setting sun, painting the sky an array of orange and pink, dark blue shadowing as it enveloped the city skyline. Stars and constellations began to take shape to the naked eye, a reminder of the deep space he yearned to touch.

Blinking away the tears threatening to spill, Johnny cleared his throat with a firm nod. “Yeah,” his voice was hoarse, but genuine, offering her small yet shy smile. “We can do that.”

The woman beamed, eyes twinkling with appreciation. And the expression remained as she lifted her hand up. “Hi,” she told him gently, “I’m Y/n. You can call me Static.”

Johnny’s smile grew a tad bigger, glancing at her open palm before taking it in his own, the heat of his skin burning through her glove, but she didn’t show it. Instead she welcomed it, shaking his hand with certainty of the unknown.

Embracing the start of a long and endearing journey.

“Hi, I’m Johnny.”

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katie865-blog · 6 days ago

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Your favorite meme that you have in your gallery rn ? 😀

Truer words have never been said…

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katie865-blog · 6 days ago

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Blabbermouth

johnny storm x fem!reader content warnings: none! all fluff! summary: on a mission, Johnny gets sprayed with something that makes him way too honest. you try to keep him quiet, but he blurts out all the things he’s been holding back, especially how long he’s been in love with you. wc: 2k

masterlist.

It was supposed to be a standard sweep.

Alien bunker. Low threat. Weird tech, strange symbols, and enough glowing crystals to make Reed’s voice crack with excitement. Johnny had been bored from the start—hovering in the back of the group, tossing a ball of flame between his fingers while Ben kicked open doors and Sue cleared the path.

“I could be on a beach right now,” Johnny muttered, singeing the edge of a scorched blueprint with his pinky. “I deserve to be on a beach.”

“You got terrible sunburn last time,” Sue reminded him without looking back.

“It was a controlled burn.”

The air in the corridor felt stale, like something hadn’t breathed in there for centuries. They moved cautiously through the underground chamber, scanning for trip wires or pressure plates. Nothing. Just strange writing etched into the walls, humming with quiet energy.

That was the first sign something was off.

The second?

The pod.

It sat in the corner of the room. Dull silver, cracked slightly open, leaking a strange violet mist that curled and floated like it had a mind of its own.

Johnny, naturally, poked it.

“Johnny.” Ben snapped, too late.

The mist shot upward in a perfect puff—like a firework in reverse—right into Johnny’s face.

He blinked. Coughed once. Waved the smoke away.

“What the hell was that?” Sue asked, backing up with her arm half-raised for a shield.

“I’m fine,” Johnny said, squinting. “That was barely a breath. Not even spicy. Smelled kind of like lavender.”

Reed was already scanning him with some handheld monitor, muttering calculations under his breath.

Johnny grinned. “Relax, I’m fine. I feel great, actually.”

Then he looked at Sue and said, completely deadpan:

“By the way, your meatloaf sucks.”

A beat of silence.

“Excuse me?” she said, affronted.

“I’ve been pretending for years. I’m sorry. It’s bad. It’s like sadness in a pan.”

And that was when Reed declared the mission over.

The Baxter Building lobby smelled like smoke.

Not the scary kind. No alarms, no shouting, no flaming holes in the ceiling. Just a lingering warmth in the air, like someone had lit a match and forgot to put it out. You looked up from your notebook as the elevator doors slid open and the Fantastic Four filed in, one by one.

Reed had a sample tube in his hand. Sue was wiping green goo off her shoulder with a sigh. Ben was muttering something about “next time, I swear I’m bringing a flamethrower.”

And Johnny…

Johnny was beaming.

“Hey, guys!” he said way too brightly, his eyes going wide when he spotted you. “Look who it is! It’s the prettiest person in the tri-state area. No, the planet. Actually, the universe. Easy.”

You blinked. “Johnny?”

He marched right up to you with zero hesitation and zero regard for personal space.

“Hi,” he said, grin full blast, cheeks flushed. “You look amazing. I love that shirt on you. And your hair? Perfect. Is that a new lipstick? It’s making me go crazy. In a good way.”

“…Are you okay?”

“Me? Never better,” he said, rocking on the balls of his feet. “Got sprayed with a weird puff of alien gas in a tunnel, but I feel fantastic. And also, I’ve been thinking about how your laugh sounds like windchimes, and how it makes my chest all floaty and-”

“Johnny,” Reed interrupted from across the room, brows furrowed behind his glasses. “I need you to sit down.”

“I am sitting down,” Johnny replied.

“You’re standing.”

“Well, emotionally I’m sitting. Emotionally I am in a beanbag chair. Staring at-” he turned back to you, “a literal work of art.”

Sue groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Reed, tell me he didn’t breathe that stuff in.”

“He did,” Reed said grimly. “And based on his current behavior, I’m hypothesizing a psychochemical compound similar to a truth serum. But stronger. Less filtered. More impulsive.”

“Sweet,” Ben said. “So he’s just gonna be running his mouth until it wears off?”

“Correct.”

“Oh, this is gonna be good.”

You turned back to Johnny, whose attention hadn’t wavered once. He looked like a golden retriever that had just discovered affection. His smile was stupid. His eyes were shining. His hair was a little windblown and he had a small scratch on his cheek, but he looked annoyingly good.

“I am so sorry,” you whispered, placing a gentle hand on his arm. “You probably don’t feel like yourself right now.”

“I feel great,” he replied. “Your hand is soft. Did you know that? Have I told you that before?”

“Johnny-”

“And I love that perfume. It’s not too much. It’s, like, subtle but deadly. I would let it kill me.”

“Okay-”

“I’m in love with you, by the way.”

Silence.

Your mouth dropped open.

Sue choked on her coffee.

Ben muttered, “Aw, hell.”

Johnny blinked. “Oh. Should I not have said that?”

The words just…hung there.

Like a balloon popped in the middle of a silent room. Time slowed. You felt your ears go hot, your heart skip. Johnny stood there, blinking at you like he didn’t just say that, like he hadn’t just detonated the emotional equivalent of a nuclear bomb in the middle of the Baxter Building.

“Okay,” you said, voice tight. “Okay. So you’re, uh. You’re drugged. That’s cool. That’s fine. Everything’s cool-”

“I’m not drugged,” Johnny said proudly. “I’m just finally free.”

Sue set down her coffee with a loud clunk. “Johnny, shut up.”

“I won’t!” he declared, like he was giving a toast. “I have been in love with her for, like, six months- maybe more, who’s counting, not me, except that I definitely wrote it in my notebook at one poin=t”

“Oh my God,” you whispered.

“And I didn’t say anything because I thought, hey, you’re normal, right? And I’m me. Human torch. Fire boy. Disaster man. I figured if I told you, you’d run for the hills or laugh or worse. But I think about you all the time.”

“Johnny-”

“Like, all the time. Like, embarrassing amounts. Like I have quotes you’ve said stuck in my head like song lyrics.”

"Johnny can you-"

“I memorized the way you say my name,” Johnny added, eyes wide, honest to God sincere. “You say it different than everyone else. It’s like…softer. Like you’re letting me be someone else when you say it.”

You wanted to disappear.

No. You wanted to melt into the floor.

Or maybe fly into the sun.

But instead you stood there, frozen, while Johnny kept going, still not done.

“One time I flew over your apartment window to make sure you got home okay after that dinner with that guy you didn’t like. And I pretended it was a patrol run, but really I just wanted to make sure your lights turned on. And I saw them. And I smiled for, like, an hour.”

“Oh my God,” Sue muttered into her hands.

“Also!” he added brightly. “I have a collection of vinyls in a box labelled ‘If She Ever Lets Me Kiss Her’ and I will be playing it in full if that moment ever comes."

Ben was red in the face now, shaking with laughter. Reed just looked concerned.

You finally grabbed Johnny’s arm and pulled him into the hallway with a rushed, “I just need to talk to him, excuse us.."

Once the door clicked shut behind you, Johnny looked up at you with a dreamy smile.

“You’re holding my arm,” he said, like it was the best part of his whole day.

You stared at him. “Johnny.”

“Yes?”

“You are not in your right mind.”

“I’m in love.”

“No, you’re chemically compromised.”

He grinned wider. “Wow. That’s my favorite way someone’s ever said that.”

You ran a hand down your face, trying not to laugh. Trying not to feel the way your heart was pounding.

“You can’t just…say all that to me,” you whispered. “You can’t say things like that and not mean them.”

Johnny paused.

The smile softened. For the first time all afternoon, he looked a little serious. A little still.

“I do mean them,” he said quietly. “Every single word.”

You stared.

He wasn’t grinning now. He wasn’t performing. He was just looking at you like you were the only real thing in the room. No sparks. No flash.

Honest.

Open.

Yours, if you wanted.

“But,” he added, blinking slow. “If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. I can…walk that back. Just, like, tell me, and I’ll make myself forget. Or I’ll pretend this never happened. I’ll do whatever you want. Just…don’t stop being in my life. I need you. Even if I don’t get to have you.”

You didn’t realize you’d moved until your hand was on his face, fingers cradling his jaw, thumb brushing the side of his cheek.

He leaned into it instantly, heat curling off his skin like instinct.

“You didn’t even ask if I feel the same,” you said softly.

“Do you?”

You nodded. Barely.

He didn’t say anything.

He just kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t fiery.

It was warm. Solid. Real.

He tasted like cinnamon gum and something a little electric. He sighed into it like it was the one thing he’d been holding his breath for all this time.

When you pulled back, he looked dazed.

“You taste like strawberry chapstick,” he whispered. “I knew it.”

You laughed, breathless, forehead pressed to his.

“What happens when the serum wears off?”

“I panic. Sue makes fun of me. Reed writes a report. I pretend I don’t remember any of this.”

“And then?”

He looked at you again.

“Then I kiss you again,” he said. “But on purpose this time.”

By the time Johnny woke up the next morning, the serum had long worn off, and the crippling realization of everything he’d said had kicked in.

He lay on his back in his bed, arm over his face, replaying it all in horror:

“I think about kissing you, like, constantly.” “I flew past your window to make sure you were safe.”

He groaned. Out loud. Into the void. Into his pillow.

“Oh my god.”

There was a knock at the door.

He flinched. “Go away.”

The door opened anyway.

“Morning, lover boy,” Ben said, way too cheerfully.

“I said go away.”

“Too bad. I brought company.”

Sue followed behind, sipping her coffee. “How’s our little truth bomb?”

Johnny rolled over and buried his face in the pillow. “Dead. Gone. I’m quitting the team.”

“Aw, come on,” Ben said. “You were adorable. Real rom-com material.”

“Kill me.”

“I didn’t know your middle name was ‘romance’” Sue added.

“I swear to God-”

“And Reed says he’s almost done charting your ‘emotional spike timeline,’” Ben said. “Apparently you got more honest every time she smiled at you.”

“I will burn this entire building down.”

A soft knock interrupted his growing spiral of despair.

You stepped into the doorway, holding two mugs of coffee. One of them had little flame doodles on the side. Johnny peeked over his pillow, eyes wide like a scared cat.

You gave him a slow smile. “You, uh…remember yesterday?”

He groaned. Again. “Please say it was all a dream.”

“Nope.”

You walked over and handed him the flame mug.

“But it was a very good dream for me.”

His ears turned red. Bright red. Like the serum had activated all over again.

You sat gently beside him on the edge of the bed.

“I liked hearing the things you said,” you added. “Even if they were…sudden. And chaotic. And a little concerning.”

“So…you’re not never speaking to me again?”

“Nope.”

“You don’t hate me?”

“Definitely not.”

You leaned in, brushed your hand across his cheek, and kissed the corner of his mouth, warm and quick and real.

“I kind of want to hear more of the truth,” you murmured. “This time without the alien chemicals.”

His eyes widened. “You do?”

“Only if you promise to show me that collection of records.”

Johnny grinned, wide and stunned, like he couldn’t believe his luck.

“I’ll even throw in choreography,” he said. “But I’m warning you—it’s a lot of finger guns and dramatic pointing.”

“Perfect.”

And for the first time in twenty-four hours, Johnny Storm thought:

"Yeah. That wasn’t so bad after all."

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katie865-blog · 7 days ago

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missing them like a mfer

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katie865-blog · 7 days ago

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More Than Fire (Johnny Storm Fluff)

Johnny Storm x Fem!Reader

Summary: How do you even tell one of the world’s most famous superheroes that you’re hopelessly—and maybe foolishly—in love with him?

Word Count: 3.8k words

Tags/Warnings: None, really. just a very long Pure Fluff, with a sprinkle of angst (mentions of insecurities), and some inaccuracies of what life was in the 60s, especially the song creep.

A/N: I'm just obsessed with Johnny Storm right now and I can't stop myself from writing fics about him. Pretend that you have curly hair in this fic.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The Baxter Building is bigger than you expected.

Not just tall—though the glass facade stretches so high you have to crane your neck to see the rooftop—but imposing. Sleek, futuristic lines, tinted windows reflecting the New York skyline, and a security desk in the lobby that looks more like it belongs to ANSA than in a commercial building.

You hug your duffel bag tighter to your side, shifting your weight awkwardly from one foot to the other as the receptionist makes a quick call upstairs. You know you don’t look like you belong here—your curls are frizzing from the humidity, your glasses slide down your nose every few seconds, and your sneakers are already squeaking on the polished floor.

Then you hear it—

“Y/N!”

Your cousin, Ben Grimm’s gravelly voice echoes through the lobby.

You look up to see him—huge, orange, smiling warmly as he makes his way toward you. You don’t even hesitate to wrap your arms around him; he’s always been the steady, grounding presence in your life.

“Hey, kid,” he rumbles, patting your back gently. “Welcome to the madhouse.”

You laugh nervously. “It’s… huge.”

“Wait ‘til you see the lab.”

Ben walks you to the elevator, filling the short ride with small talk—how was your trip, how’s your mom, did you eat. You try to relax, but your nerves buzz under your skin. You’re here for a job, not a vacation. And your boss? None other than Reed Richards himself.

The elevator doors open directly into the heart of the Baxter Building’s upper floors. You’re instantly greeted by sleek metal walls, glass partitions, and the low hum of high-tech equipment.

Reed is at the far end of the hall, bent over a tablet. He looks up when Ben calls his name.

“Ah, you must be Y/N,” Reed says, offering a quick smile. “Ben’s told me you’re good with detail work. I could use that.”

You nod quickly. “I—I’ll do my best, Mr. Richards.”

He waves a hand. “Reed’s fine. Come on, I’ll show you your desk.”

And that’s when he walks in.

Johnny Storm enters like he owns the place—messy blond hair, a confident grin, dark denim jacket slung over his shoulder. When his gaze lands on you, it’s like a spotlight switches on.

“Well, well,” he drawls, sliding a hand into his pocket. “And who might this be?”

“Johnny,” Reed says without looking up, “this is Y/N. Ben’s cousin. My new assistant.”

Johnny steps closer, that infamous smirk tugging at his lips. “Welcome to the Baxter Building, gorgeous.”

Your heart skips—but not in the way you want it to. Not excitement. More like panic. You’ve seen the way women react to Johnny Storm. You’ve also seen the type of women he flirts with—magazine covers, red carpets, legs for miles.

You’re… not that.

“Hi,” you say shortly, shifting your bag and stepping aside so Ben can lead you past him.

Johnny blinks like you’ve just spoken a language he doesn’t understand. His grin flickers—just for a second—before he recovers. “Alright then,” he murmurs, amused.

You don’t turn around. Yet you could feel his piercing blue eyes on your back all the way to your desk.

---------------------------

Months have passed but working for Reed Richards is exactly as exhausting as you expected—and somehow, even more so. Your days blur into a steady rhythm: early mornings, coffee runs, sorting lab reports, logging data, keeping Reed from getting so lost in equations that he forgets to eat lunch.

It’s good work. You’re good at it. And it keeps you focused. Focused means you don’t have time to think about… other things. Like the fact that you live in a skyscraper with The Human Torch.

Not that Johnny Storm is easy to ignore.

The man is a hurricane in human form—he blows into the lab without warning, smirking like every second he exists is a gift to the universe. He has a way of making the air feel warmer just by walking into the room.

You keep your eyes on your work. Every time.

And still— “Hi, Y/N!” Johnny’s voice rings out from the doorway one afternoon. “You look—”

You brush past him, carrying a stack of sample trays to the storage cabinet.

“—like you’re going to ignore me,” he finishes flatly, his tone a mix of disappointment and amusement.

You don’t reply. Because you know that if you do, you’ll just encourage him.

He sighs—loudly, just in case you didn’t hear it—then saunters toward Reed, who’s hunched over a holographic model of the atmosphere.

“Reed,” Johnny says, leaning on the counter, “you gotta talk to her. She’s killing me.”

Without looking up, Reed replies dryly, “I told you to stop flirting with my assistant, Johnny.”

“At her,” Johnny corrects. “I flirt at her. She never flirts back.”

Johnny then looks at you while you were cataloguing samples on the other side of the room, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

Still, Johnny keeps trying.

Sometimes it’s big gestures—dropping by with a bag of cookies from Maisie's, “just because,” or hovering over your shoulder pretending to read your notes.

Sometimes it’s small—quick comments, a wink when you catch his eye across the lab, tossing you an energy bar when you’ve been working too long.

You tell yourself not to read into it. This is just who he is. Johnny Storm flirts with everyone. And women usually flirt back—women who aren’t you.

But little cracks start forming in the wall you’ve built around yourself.

One night, you’re alone in the lab, surrounded by the low hum of machines, your hair falling into your face as you type up Reed’s latest readings. You don’t hear him at first.

“Brought reinforcements,” Johnny’s voice says gently.

You look up to see him holding two mugs of hot cocoa. He sets one down by your elbow, then leans casually against the desk—not crowding you, not teasing. Just… there.

“I thought you were out with friends,” you say, wary.

He shrugs. “Was. But then I thought about you, stuck up here alone in this lab, drowning in equations.”

You snort softly, taking a cautious sip. “It’s data, not equations.”

“Still looks like alien to me.”

For once, he doesn’t launch into another round of innuendo. Instead, you talk—about your work, about his fascination with space, about things that have nothing to do with the tabloids.

At one point, you murmur, “I’m not really… part of this family. I mean, I’m just Ben’s cousin who happens to work here.”

He straightens, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. “Don’t say that. You are part of this family, Y/N. I’d do anything for you. Protect you, even.”

You laugh lightly, trying to deflect, but your chest feels warm in a way that has nothing to do with the cocoa.

You’ve seen Johnny Storm in the public eye—loud, reckless, charming to the point of arrogance. He’s the man women trip over themselves for. The man who makes headlines just for smiling.

But this—sitting on the edge of the lab counter, sipping cocoa with you in companionable silence—isn’t the man you’ve read about in gossip columns.

This Johnny is quieter. Softer.

He talks about how he used to lie on the roof at night as a kid, staring at the stars until his neck hurt. How space makes him feel small in the best way. How he reads astrophysics articles when he can’t sleep, even if he pretends otherwise.

And the thing that makes your chest ache most of all—he’s smart. Not just “he can talk about planets” smart, but truly brilliant. You see it in the way he asks questions, connects ideas, lingers over your explanations like he’s memorizing every word.

You’re painfully aware of the moment it hits you—

You like him.

You really like him.

But it’s not the glossy, smirking Johnny the world sees. You like the man who’s sitting here now, legs swinging, smiling softly into his mug like you’re the only person in the room.

And that’s why it hurts. Because this version of Johnny? The one who loves space and listens intently and doesn’t have to be “on” all the time?

He still wouldn’t go for someone like you.

Not when the rest of the world is full of women who look like they’ve stepped out of a magazine spread. Women who belong next to The Human Torch.

You’re just… you. The shy assistant with messy curls, glasses sliding down her nose, and ink stains on her fingers.

So, you bury the feelings deep inside.

You smile when he offers you another sip of cocoa.

And you tell yourself it’s better this way.

---------------------------

You’re balancing a takeout tray in one hand and Reed’s latest printouts in the other when the main doors open to the Baxter Building lobby.

The sound hits you first—low laughter, warm and easy, the kind that makes you want to lean in and hear more. Then you see him.

Johnny.

He’s leaning against the marble reception desk, leather jacket draped over one shoulder, hair just messy enough to look perfect. And in front of him.

Well.

She’s gorgeous.

Not in a subtle way, either. In a “could stop traffic” way. Long legs, bouncy hair, a dress that probably costs more than your rent. A slim notepad rests in her hand, a pen twirling between her fingers.

You recognize her instantly—not from TV, but from bylines. She’s a journalist. The kind who writes profile pieces that make celebrities look human in the most flattering way possible.

They’re close.

Too close.

You watch as she laughs at something he’s whispered—her fingers brushing his arm like she can’t help herself. He leans in, his mouth near her ear, and she blushes.

Your stomach twists so hard you have to grip the coffee tray tighter.

Of course.

Of course this is who Johnny Storm flirts with.

Not you, with your lab goggles and frizzy curls and sweaters two sizes too big. Not you, who keeps her head down and hides behind her work.

This—

This is his type.

And you’ve been stupid enough to let yourself forget that for even a second.

He spots you over her shoulder. His eyes brighten instantly.

“Y/N! Hey—”

You don’t stop walking.

His voice follows you as you head toward the elevator, sharp with confusion. “Y/N, wait—”

But the elevator doors slide shut between you before he can reach you.

You make it to your room before the tears spill over.

You set the coffee and papers on your desk with shaking hands, your chest so tight you can barely breathe.

You move to collapse on your bed, but your hip catches the corner of your little vinyl player stand. The needle arm jolts and drops onto an old record you’d been meaning to put away.

I don't care if it hurts

I want to have control

I want a perfect body

I want a perfect soul

I want you to notice

When I'm not around

You're so very special

I wish I was special

Your breath hitches. It’s too on the nose, too perfect in the worst way.

You press your palms to your face, but the music keeps going, digging into every raw part of you until you can’t tell where the song ends and your own thoughts begin.

You’d been so stupid.

Every shared cocoa, every quiet conversation, every time he made you feel like maybe you weren’t invisible—

None of it meant what you thought it did.

You cry until your pillow is damp and your chest aches, and you promise yourself—no more. No more hoping. No more falling.

---------------------------

You’d almost forgotten about the gala.

Not because it wasn’t important—Reed had mentioned it three times this week, muttering something about sponsors and funding—but because you had no intention of attending. Events like that weren’t for people like you. They were for Reed’s colleagues, Sue’s friends, and Johnny’s adoring fans.

You’d planned on staying in your room, maybe catching up on work.

That plan ends when Sue knocks on your door.

“Come on,” she says, sweeping in without waiting for you to answer. “You’re coming with us.”

“I don’t—” You start to protest, but she’s already setting down a garment bag.

“Nope. You’ve been cooped up in here for weeks, and you work harder than anyone in this building. You deserve one night to feel… special.”

Special.

The word sits uneasily in your chest.

But Sue is relentless. She gets you into the gown before you can argue—a soft, midnight-colored dress that skims your frame without being overly revealing. Then she’s at your curls, coaxing them into smooth, glossy waves instead of the messy halo you usually give up on taming.

Your glasses? Swapped for graded contact lenses that make your eyes look bigger.

She dusts a little shimmer across your eyelids, gloss on your lips.

When you look in the mirror, you almost don’t recognize yourself.

“You’re beautiful,” Sue says simply, smiling in the way that makes you almost believe her.

The ballroom is already buzzing when you arrive with the team. Ben and Reed are near the entrance, deep in conversation with a couple of important-looking men in tuxedos, but they both stop talking the second they see you.

Ben’s face lights up. “Kid, you look… wow, different. You look good.”

Reed nods in agreement, his usually distracted eyes actually focusing on you. “I wouldn’t have guessed it was you if Sue hadn’t been standing right there.”

You laugh softly, embarrassed, and murmur a thanks.

And then you feel it.

That prickling awareness of eyes on you.

You turn, and there’s Johnny.

He’s frozen in place a few feet away, a drink in hand, mouth slightly open like he’s forgotten how to speak. His gaze sweeps over you once, then twice, lingering in a way that makes heat crawl up your neck.

“You’re…” He swallows. “You’re beautiful. I mean—wow. Just… wow, Y/N.”

Something in your chest flutters before you can stop it.

But then you remember.

The journalist. The laughter. The whispered words and the blush.

The way you’d promised yourself—no more hoping.

Your throat tightens. You force a polite smile and murmur something about needing air before slipping away toward the nearest balcony.

The night air is cool against your skin, a relief after the heavy warmth of the ballroom. You grip the stone railing, trying to steady your breathing, but your chest feels too tight, like the dress is squeezing all the air out of you.

You should have stayed in your room.

You should have known better.

“Y/N?”

You turn to the sound of his voice. Johnny stands there in the doorway, the soft golden light of the ballroom at his back, turning him into something out of a dream. He looks… different out here. Not the cocky, charming Johnny Storm the public knows, but quieter, his eyes shadowed in a way you’ve only glimpsed in rare, unguarded moments.

You grip the railing tighter. “You should go back inside. People will notice you’re gone.”

He takes a step forward, then another, until he’s close enough that the faint scent of his cologne—something clean, warm, and just a little spicy—wraps around you. “Let them. I noticed you were gone.”

It shouldn’t mean anything. But it does.

You look away, down at the city lights twinkling far below. “You’re not supposed to notice me, Johnny. Not like that.”

“Why not?” His voice is softer now, almost uncertain.

You shake your head, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes. “Because you’re… you. And I’m just…” You let the sentence die in the air. Just an assistant. Just someone ordinary. Just someone who’s seen too much to get caught up in things like this.

But the truth is deeper than that.

You don’t love him for the headlines, the smiles, or the flashes of attention. You love him for the quiet things no one else seems to see—the way he stares out at the stars when he thinks no one’s looking, the genius-level theories he mutters under his breath when Reed isn’t around, the surprising gentleness in his hands when he fixes something broken.

And that’s the worst part. Because that real Johnny? That beautiful, hidden man?

You know he would never choose someone like you.

You’re about to step past him when his hand brushes your arm—light, careful. “Y/N… what’s really going on?”

The words you want to say—I love you, but it’s killing me—tangle in your throat. Instead, you give him the easiest lie you can. “Nothing. I just needed some air.”

He doesn’t believe you. You can see it in the way his brow creases. But he lets you go.

---------------------------

Later that night, after the gala, you’re in the records room, your little sanctuary—still wearing the dress because you couldn’t bring yourself to take it off yet. You’re pulling a folder from the shelf when your elbow knocks into the turntable you keep there.

The vinyl arm jolts forward. A record you’d forgotten was on it spins to life, and the needle drops in the middle of a track.

Just a few seconds of a song—raw, aching lyrics about wanting someone you can’t have.

Johnny’s voice comes from behind you, low and careful. “I didn’t know you liked this song.”

You freeze.

You whirl around, heart lurching. He’s leaning against the doorway, jacket gone, bow tie loose, looking at you like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.

“I—” You swallow. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to play it.”

But the way his blue eyes linger on you tells you he’s heard more than just the music.

You fumble for the tonearm, desperate to lift it before it gets to the part you know will hurt, but Johnny’s already crossed the room.

His hand lands gently on yours, stilling it.

“Don’t.”

The single word—quiet, almost pleading—freezes you in place.

You glance up, and it’s not the smooth, untouchable Johnny Storm looking back at you. It’s the man you’ve been secretly falling for—the one who talks to you about constellations like they’re old friends, the one who fixes broken coffee machines at 2 a.m. without anyone asking.

The one you could love too easily if you let yourself.

“It’s just a song,” you whisper, though it feels like the most transparent lie you’ve ever told.

“It’s not just a song.” He takes a step closer, his voice low and threaded with something raw. “I saw your face when it started. Like it… hit somewhere you didn’t want me to see.”

Your throat tightens.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Y/N…” His tone is careful now, like he’s afraid you’ll bolt. “You keep looking at me like there’s something you want to say, and then you bury it. You’re the one person I can’t figure out, and it’s driving me insane.”

You laugh—a soft, broken sound. “Johnny, you’re not supposed to figure me out.”

He shakes his head, stubborn. “I want to.”

“You should stop flirting with me,” you say suddenly, the words sharper than you intended. Your heart hammers in your chest, but you force yourself to hold his gaze.

“Just because I’m timid, doesn’t mean I’m naive. Or an idiot.”

Johnny blinks, clearly taken aback. “What?”

“It bothers me,” you said, your throat tight. “Because it’s not real. And I’m human, Johnny. You can’t just… play with my feelings. Not when I—” You stopped yourself, heart pounding.

“Not when you what?” he asked, his tone suddenly softer.

You swallowed hard. “Not when I love you.”

The silence that followed was deafening. His eyes widened. “Y–you… love me?”

Regret hit instantly, sharp as a blade. “Forget it,” you muttered, pushing past him. But his hand caught your wrist, firm enough to stop you, gentle enough to make you stay.

“I love you too,” he said, and it was so earnest it made your chest ache.

You shook your head. “No. You shouldn’t be with me. You should be with girls in your own league—like the one you were flirting with the other day.”

To your surprise, he smirks, that familiar spark dancing in his eyes. “So… my tactic to make you jealous worked?”

You blink at him, incredulous. “Why would you even do something like that?”

“Because you never notice me,” he said, a frustrated laugh escaping him. “You never seem to reciprocate my feelings.”

Your chest aches. “I love you, Johnny. but not the flashy version you show to the world. I love the real you—the one who loves space, the genius you try to hide under that cocky grin, the one who’s kind without needing an audience. But that’s the thing… you’re you, and I’m just me. The shy, timid assistant of Mr. Fantastic. And you only like me now because I’m all dressed up.”

His expression softens, the teasing gone. He steps closer, voice low and steady.

“No... I love you for you. I love you when an experiment blows up in your face and you’re standing there covered in smoke and ashes. I love you when you say something that makes me realize you’re smarter than half the geniuses I know. I love you when you’re quiet, and when you’re brave enough to tell me I’m an idiot.”

You feel your throat tighten, the air between you charged and fragile.

“I love you, just as you are.” He finished, and before you could say another word, he leaned in.

The kiss was warm, a little hesitant at first, like both of you were afraid the other might pull away—but then you melted into it. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, and his arms circled your waist like he had no intention of letting you go.

Somewhere in the background, you heard a muffled voice. “Well, about time.”

You broke apart just enough to glance toward the doorway. Sue was leaning casually against the frame, smirking like she’d known all along.

Beside her, Ben chuckled while Reed silently pulled a five-dollar bill from his wallet and handed it over.

“Told you they’d figure it out eventually,” Ben said, pocketing the money.

You groaned, pressing your face onto Johnny’s shoulder. “You bet on us?”

Sue crossed her arms, smiling. “Sweetheart, we’ve been waiting for this since day one.”

Johnny’s laugh rumbled against you, warm and smug. “Guess we just made ‘em some money.”

You pulled back to glare at him halfheartedly, but his grin softened, his thumb brushing your cheek. And somehow, you didn’t mind that everyone had been watching—because at that moment, it was just you and him, finally where you belonged.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

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