#and maybe Sue Reed and reader

[musingsofheaven]

THREE THINGS

summary: You hate three things: Johnny Storm, Lucky Charms’ Human Torch Special Edition Cereal, and motion sickness. Unfortunately, you’re stuck in space with the three so try your best not to puke, not to punch him, and definitely not to fuck him. You’re failing at all three.

pairings: johnny storm x engineer!reader

warning: 8.3k words. mature themes. unprotected p-in-v. internal ejaculation. dry humping. d/s dynamic. (light) claustrophobic space. space sex. exhibitionism implication. power imbalance. read responsibly.

note: this one’s for my friends… ! @burymenot and @coffinkissd who helped me build the plot because we are thirsting over johnny. i fear we ate. <3 hope you enjoyed it and reblog if you so !

Johnny Storm loves three things in this world. Women. Space. Sex.

It is not always in that order, but it is close enough. People can always catch him flirting with women, it’s like he’s not picking a date and time. As long as you got his attention? He will charm you. And space, yeah, he loves it for a thrill. Maybe for attention too. He likes the way his stomach flips. He also likes the adrenaline in his system when he’s in the air. Oh, don’t forget when people cheer for him because his grin is so big when he’s witnessing that. And sex? Well, that’s his favorite hobby, if you can call it a hobby when he makes it sound like a public service.

Meanwhile, you hate three things. For starters, Johnny himself, with his cocky grin and the way he tips his head when he thinks he’s charming. Then there’s his cereal. The kind of cereal with marshmallows shaped like little fireballs and his face plastered across the box. He always leaves sugary crumbs all over the counters in the lab. You hate how he always leaves the box open, like it’s waiting for him to come back for another handful. And third, motion sickness. The kind that churns in your gut and makes you want to vomit or shake.

They picked you as a trainee engineer for this mission. A fresh assistant for the Fantastic Four. Reed said you were the top candidate. Sue was excited to have another woman on board. Ben just gave you a gruff nod of approval. Johnny? Johnny has the biggest smile like he won the lottery while leaning against the doorway in his suit. His hair is brushed clean and his eyes are glinting like he knows something you don’t. He must think he’s smooth when he gazes down at your body slowly and lazily sweeps before he throws a wink in your way.

You wanted to throw your knuckles in his face and it also didn’t help that you caught him laughing with other assistant candidates in the hall. It’s always the same grin he throws at women and he has that plastered to his face right now while giving them false promises about taking them to fly sometime. The thing is, it’s also the same shit he told you about you days ago in the cafeteria when you spilled your coffee on your shirt. The way he looks at you during training didn’t also help. It’s like he was waiting for you to mess up so he could enter and make a joke out of it.

What's way worse is when your little overthinking brain starts to wonder if he is only annoying… or noticing you because you were the one who got picked for this mission. Because it’s you who are standing next to him now. You are the one who is strapping yourself into the seat next to him. The one who is holding your breath while the engine is ready for its function and you can feel it under your boots. You feel you’re in some kind of game you didn’t agree to play because of the way he looks, how his fingers brush against you, or the way he says his stupid joke that makes your lips curl up even if you don’t want to.

You hated that too because it’s one thing to stand next to Johnny Storm on Earth while fighting the urge to roll your eyes every time he winks. It’s another to sit shoulder to shoulder when the shuttle left the earth. You can already feel your stomach crawling from there up to your throat. The warmth that sneaking around your neck and sweat beads are already forming under your collar. It’s sticking to the fabric while you are clamping the straps so hard that you feel your knuckles shaking. His low hum of excitement doesn’t help, fingers drumming a beat only he hears.

The shuttle tilts into that first dizzy climb, and a hot and sour wave rolls in your gut. Closing your eyes doesn’t help. The air is thick with plastic and metal. A small groan slips before you can swallow it back. “Aw, don’t puke yet,” Johnny says, leaning closer. His warm breath ghosts across your cheek. “We’re barely at the fun part.” Your glare snaps toward him, but your stomach flips again while forcing your mouth shut as you swallow hard.

When the engines ease, your forehead presses to the cool seat. Breathing slowly helps, but nausea still hangs heavy that pulling another groan from your lips. A rustle drags your eyes open, and Johnny’s smirk greets you like the world’s worst sunrise. “Got you something,” he says, tone bright with that fake sweetness he uses when he’s about to be annoying. A cereal box drops in your lap. Not just any box, but one with his face printed beside a cartoon of him flying with texts saying ‘Get your free Johnny Storm figure inside!’

You can see the bright letters label of Lucky Charms Cereal. There’s also a cheap figurine picture placed on top, its head too big, hair bright yellow and spiky in a tiny blue uniform. He presses the figurine he’s already holding, and a tinny voice echoes, “FLAME ON!” You blink. The figurine’s grin matches his. “Bitchass,” you mutter, pushing the box back toward him with a shaky hand. “What is this?” Johnny waves the cereal closer, ignoring your glare. “A welcome gift,” he says with eyes wide, and a grin stretching. “I heard sugar helps with motion sickness.”

A hand slaps over your face as another groan pushes out as you feel half nausea, and half exasperation. You peek through your fingers just to see if he’s already walked away but you catch him hovering and shaking the box so marshmallows rattle. “You’re unbelievable,” you said while your voice clearly sounded annoyed. He just shrugged lazily and brought the figurine into your face before tilting it so you could see it more. Once he makes sure it’s close enough, he presses the button so it yells “FLAME ON!” in your ear. You nearly choke on a laugh, pressing your lips tight, but they curl up anyway.

Your stomach flips for a different reason when you catch him watching with a grin softening before snapping back bright and smug. “Eat your cereal, rookie,” he says, dropping it back into your lap. “Captain’s orders.” When the cereal stops rattling, you think the worst is over. You survived launch without puking on his boots, and he leaves you alone while Reed walks you through cabin checks. Sugar sits heavy in your stomach, at least giving you something to focus on besides the engine hum.

A small hope sparks that you’ll get a moment to breathe without Johnny in your space. That hope dies fast when Sue finishes crew assignments, tapping her tablet with a small, apologetic smile. “Unfortunately, we’re tight on sleeping quarters for this mission,” she says, and unfortunately already sounds like a death sentence. Tension curls in your shoulders as your gaze skips over the narrow bunks. A tiny piece of you praying Johnny’s is on the other side of the shuttle.

Sue’s finger slides down the screen, eyes flicking to Johnny, who’s lounging near the wall, arms crossed, grin lazy, boots kicked out like he owns the air. “You’ll be bunking with Johnny,” she says. Silence slams so hard your brain takes a second to catch up. Johnny’s eyebrows shoot up, that grin widening like someone handed him a medal. “Hell no,” you blurt. Sue’s smile tightens. “Space limitations. We need you in Engineering and him in Pilot standby. It’s easier if you two are near each other.”

Your jaw hangs open, but Johnny beats you to a response, pushing off the wall with a clap of his hands that makes you flinch. “Sweet. I don’t snore.” You hate the way he says it like it’s going to fix everything. You hate the way his eyes glint while looking at you. “Usually.” Heat travels up to your neck and the irritation prickles under your skin. A small sputter leaves your lips, but you clamp them shut before saying something that’ll get you launched back to Earth without a parachute. He leans to you so close that you can smell the faint scent of his soap before he throws a wink at you. “Guess we’re roommates now, rookie.”

The rooms are small. Maybe it’s just two outstretched arms wide and two narrow bunks are touching the walls. A very tiny round window to see the view and enough floor for you to stand. The ceiling is low enough for you but not tall enough for Johnny so he has to duck. Of course, he already does it. He’s even laughing as he drops his duffel on the lower bunk… Asshole. Claiming it without talking to you, but you can’t fight much about it because what if he toasts you? Or your things. No, thanks. Your stomach sinks while the cereal box is tucked under your arm as you hover in the doorway. You look like you’re praying for Sue to come back and tell you it’s a mistake.

Reed’s voice echoed over the comms and Reed being Reed, he’s listing the safety protocols while Sue’s laughter can be heard in the background. Johnny peeks to look at you with his brow arching as he sprawls across the lower bunk. It looks small to him because it takes every inch of the space with his legs being long and his shoulders just fitting right in. His hand is patting the mattress beside him if he wants you to lie down and cuddle him. “This is the worst,” you say with a voice that sounds annoyed, and stepping inside so the door slides shut. His grin spreads slowly, pushing into that dimple as he props an arm behind his head. “Aw, come on. It’s not like we haven’t been close before.”

Your jaw clenches while you set the cereal on the shelf while ignoring the figurine beside it that he gave you. The room smells like metal and the hint of the shampoo he used before the launch. Also, the sweet smell of sugar is clinging to his clothes because his clumsy ass spilled half of the cereal on his body earlier. By just looking at the bunk above him already earned a groan. It’s narrow and cramped. The ladder wobbles a little when you test it. The launch still feels heavy in your body, and nausea curls in your gut while the world spins a little.

“Why can’t I be with Sue?” you mutter, hauling yourself up onto the top bunk with a thump that rattles the thin mattress. Johnny’s laugh follows, warm and smug, as you flop down and stare at the metal ceiling. Below, boots scrape the floor while the mattress creaks as he unpacks, humming under his breath. “Because, rookie,” he says, voice drifting up, “you’re lucky enough to get the Johnny Storm experience.” The urge to throw the cereal box at his head is strong, but your arm feels too heavy, your stomach uneasy, and your eyes slipping shut as you press your hand over your mouth.

Rustling sounds below. It’s probably him grinning while waiting for you to lean over and glare. “Don’t worry,” he says, softer, words pulling your eyes open as the shuttle hums, “You won’t even realize I’m here.” Another groan crawls out as your arm drops over your eyes. You’re swallowing down a roll of nausea while his laughter drifts up, the cereal box rattling on the shelf, and that stupid figurine’s head that makes you pissed. And just that’s the start because you don’t know how funny a routine builds in space. Mornings mean protein bars and Johnny bragging about only needing five hours of sleep. Afternoons pass with you elbow-deep in wires while he hovers, tossing marshmallows in his mouth, talking too much while you work. Nights end with him flopping onto his bunk, smirking up at you while you pretend he’s not there.

After dinner, Reed reads updates while Sue flicks peas across the table at Johnny, who pretends to catch them in his mouth, while Ben rumbles about wasting food. Zero gravity training comes up again and Johnny swears he can handle it. He even calls himself the “human torch and human rocket” so floating should be easy. He says it with a grin that makes you want to call him an idiot with your foot knocking your boot under the table. Sue rolls her eyes, telling Reed to let everyone have one night of fun. Ben mutters that if you want a good way to bruise a rib then zero gravity sounds fun, but he doesn’t say no. Although you can tell he’s not loving the idea very much. Reed sighs because Johnny won’t stop listing reasons why it should be turned off. You’re sure that Reed only flipped the switch off for Johnny to shut up. Gravity slips out like someone pulls the floor away from you.

The air changes and whooshes in your ear while your body drifts and floats. Your hair is messy, and some of it is going in front of your face while your stomach churns. It feels fizzy in a way that makes you giggle before you catch yourself you just did that. Johnny whoops funnily and pushes off the wall with one foot like he’s in a game. His arms spread while he spins around as if he’s a kid. One of Johnny’s open cereals is now scattered around, and a marshmallow drifts near your face before you swat it away. You grab the rail as your feet lift while knees curl as you tumble softly. At first, it feels like a dream because you are just floating around and fulfilling some kid’s dream and you move like you’re swimming in the air. You push off one wall to drift toward the opposite you. Carelessly bumping into Johnny’s shoulder when he cuts across your path. His laugh vibrates in your ear as he grabs a cabinet edge, curls floating around his head. “Watch it, rookie,” he says. He’s smirking widely as his legs tangling with yours before you both push off, spinning in opposite directions.

“You’re the one in the way,” you fire back, flipping before your elbow thumps against the wall that sends you drifting. Hours pass while you float, push off walls, and try to drink water from a bubble that nearly ends up in Johnny’s nose because he won’t stop making you laugh. Your stomach finally settles. Your body feels light. Air tasted faintly of metal and the sweet scent of cereal stuck in Johnny’s pocket. Floating is fun for exactly twenty minutes. But when it’s time to sleep, the fun dies fast. Your bunk is useless without gravity, the mattress doing nothing but thankfully it’s strapped there so it’s not floating around as your body hovers. You’re drifting the second you exhale too hard. Knees bump the frame while your arms wave, fingers curling around the rail before your legs float up again. You flip until your face nearly plants into the ceiling.

Johnny’s behind you, and trying to get into his bunk. He’s laughing too hard because he’s failing so his feet are kicking while he spins like a slow top. “Get your foot out of my face,” you snap before batting his ankle away when it drifts near your nose. “Stop hogging the air, then,” he fires back, snorting when you shove at his thigh. It sent him drifting in a slow spin. Both of you should have gotten the sleeping bag ready so that you both know how to strap in the railings so you can sleep when the idea of turning off the gravity for the whole night is laid on the table. Now both of you try to hold the rails, but every small movement sends you floating again. You are trying your best to ignore him when an elbow knocks your ribs and his knee bumps your hip. But when it comes to him, you have no patience, so your hand catches his arm to stop him, but you two just spin together slowly. It’s ridiculous and the two of you are now tangled clumsily. Hair drifts across your eyes that tickling your cheek, and you blow it away. You catch a glimpse of Johnny’s face inches from yours and he’s upside down while grinning like an idiot. His laugh is low and breath warm when it puffs across your lips.

“This sucks,” you mutter, trying to untangle your arm from where it’s pinned. “It’s awesome,” he says, spinning you until your head bumps softly against the bunk frame, making you hiss. His calf brushes against your thigh when your legs tangle again with his. Breath caught in your chest while your bodies are hovering over each other. Are you ignoring now how you bump into him with every shift because it’s really not spacious here. There’s the grin you hate but it quickly dies down and is replaced by something soft that also didn’t last long. His throat bobs while he gets closer to you. Noses almost brushing to each other while warm breath grazes your cheek. “Can’t sleep like this,” you whisper. “Yeah,” Johnny says and voice lower, “I know.” Neither of you moves. The ship hums, vibrations running through the metal while your arms and legs drift, tangled around him, floating above the bunk in the tiny room you hate sharing but suddenly don’t hate as much.

No one speaks after that, and for a moment, it almost feels like you could fall asleep. Yeah, you are delusional like that and ignoring the fact that you are floating. Your eyes drift shut, and your hair fanned around your face in the cold air while you let yourself sink into the smallest drowsiness you feel. The soft bump of your knee against the bunk frame barely even registers. Limbs float, legs drifting out, toes brushing the ceiling as you chase the edges of sleep. Your last clear thought being that maybe, just maybe, zero gravity isn’t the worst thing in the universe.

Then the heater dies. There’s the loud sound of a click rattling in the pipes and it is followed by silence. It feels too empty, and the quietness feels too loud, even though you can’t hear anything besides the breathing of you and Johnny. The heat is slowly exiting out of the air like someone banging the window open in space. The coldness slapping on your skin, especially on your stomach, because your shirt is riding up with zero gravity. That leaves goosebumps in its wake. Oxygen from your body puffs into tiny white smoke in front of your face, and you wrap your arms around your body. You try to tuck your knees in but couldn’t hold it because it’s floating back out uselessly.

Johnny’s voice was sliding through the muffled coldness somewhere in the darkness. “Don’t tell me you’re cold already,” he says teasing but it disappears the moment he hears the soft clatter of your teeth grinding together. You sniff before you can stop it, and the environment is too quiet to hide it. Lips pressed together and shivers crept into your system so hard that your body spins a little in the air. Your hands are holding tightly against the rail of the bunk like you are trying to fight the zero gravity but your arms feel wobbly and like a noodle. Especially in the cold so you just end up floating sideways again.

Johnny sighs exaggeratedly, but you can feel the faint concern and softness there while he comes closer to you. He’s drifting until his feet bump your hip. “Come on, you’ll freeze,” he says. The warmth of his body reaches you even in the freezing air, and it’s infuriating how much you want to cling to it. “Don’t you dare,” you mutter, voice shaking, but another shiver cuts through your ribs. It makes your arms fly up as your body twirls again. Your eyes closed when you feel the coldness in your fingertips. But honestly, you just refuse to look at him. “Seriously, rookie,” Johnny says, closer now, breathing warm for half a second as it ghosts across your cheek. “You’re shivering like a Chihuahua.”

The retort dies on your tongue when another shiver runs through your spine. Your body curls instinctively toward the nearest heat source, which happens to be him. Fingers press into the soft fabric of his shirt as you catch yourself steady. Legs bumping his thighs, and your forehead landing against his shoulder. A muffled curse leaves your mouth. Voice low and defeated. “Just for heat,” you grumble. “Sure, just heat,” Johnny says, but his voice dips. It’s teasing in that way that makes you want to smack him, except your hands are too busy clutching his sides to keep from floating away.

Both of you drift in the middle of the tiny room while tangled together, and spinning slowly as your legs bump into his hips. Your arms are hooking around his shoulder tightly. Each tiny movement sends you rotating again and your hair brushing across his face. You can feel his breath fanning over your temple. It’s cold, which is ironic because his power is flame, and he could easily heat up the room, but he doesn’t. He chooses to offer this way. You can feel the heat from his chest that soothes you when you press closer, and it’s enough to ease the coldness for a moment.

The quiet and uneven breathing fills the space. You can hear his heartbeat thudding under the ear that’s pressed to his chest. It’s steady and grounding, even the zero gravity makes you rock in gentle, slow circles. Fingers curl into his shirt, holding tight, and your eyes slip shut against the cold. “This is so stupid,” you whisper. “Yeah,” Johnny says, a grin in his voice as he shifts. He’s pulling you closer until your legs hook around his waist, keeping you steady. “Best stupid idea ever.”

You don’t answer because it’s easier to focus on the heat spreading in your chest. It’s easier to focus on the vibration of his stupid laugh when your bodies bump against the wall. It’s easier to listen to the quiet whooshing of the breaths in the dark. See? You can focus, even every few seconds, there’s a gentle spin that moves your hair across his jaw, and his hand settles at the small of your back. He’s keeping you from drifting too far each time you shift. The heater might be dead, but at least you’re not freezing alone and you’re with this stupid guy.

Floating around him in half-sleep almost works. Your eyes slip closed, warmth pressing against your front, and the sound of the ship mixes with Johnny’s soft breathing near your ear. Every so often your bodies drift in a slow spin with limbs shifting as you try to settle in the cold that is kept away only by the heat trapped between you. For a moment it feels like you could actually rest. Then a small bump jolts through your hips. A warm and solid pressure that drags right between your thighs. It’s sliding over your clit through the thin layers of your sleep shorts. It forces a gasp out of your mouth before you can swallow it down.

“Shit- sorry.” He apologizes quickly like it’s an accident. His voice sounds low and muffled near your neck. The words brushed warm against your skin. The feeling you can’t explain is collecting in your cheeks as your legs tighten around his hips. You try to keep steady so it doesn’t happen again. Breath is choked and stuck in your chest. Your heart is beating so fast, like you are having hypertension, while you wait for the moment for it to disappear. It does, eventually, leaving a silence so heavy you can almost taste it. A few minutes later, the slow spin of your bodies brings you back into alignment. Another shift pushes your hips against his. It’s the same heat and pressure catching you off guard again. Your breath leaves in a shaky puff, and your thighs clench before you can stop them.

“Fuck- okay, that was me this time,” Johnny mutters, a strained laugh rumbling under your palms where they rest on his shoulders. “Sorry. Really.” It’s impossible to answer, your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth while you try to pretend you don’t feel how hard he is, and how your pussy throbs at the drag of fabric over your clit. The heat spreads low in your belly. Silence wraps around both of you. It’s only broken by the soft rattle of something shifting on the wall as you spin. Your bodies pressing together again in a way that makes your head spin.

It happens again. For the third time, there’s no apology. You initiate after he does that, and you start chasing the friction before you can even stop yourself. There’s a quiet whimper slipping past your lips. His breath catches, and his arms tighten around your waist to pull you closer. The movement is slow, but bodies glide in the cold air while warmth builds where you press together. “What are we doing?” Your whisper hangs between you, breathless. Your forehead pressing to his as you try to keep your eyes open, try to ignore the way your hips keep moving to chase another drag of the pleasurable friction.

“Fuck if I know,” Johnny says, his voice rough, hand sliding down to your lower back to hold you there. “Feels good, though.” Legs tangling around his waist as your hips roll again while the spinning of your bodies slows down. The movements are not hurried. Fabric dragging against fabric with the heat spreading in your body every time you both repeat the motion. The shape of his cock is grinding right exactly at your clothed clit. The friction makes your breath catch and your fingers curl in the fabric of his shirt. Every small drag goes straight through your nerves, which makes your thighs twitch while you fight the noise boiling in your throat. Head dropping to your shoulder when a groan slips from his mouth. Every exhale is warm against your neck. “Fuck- sorry, I can’t-”

“Shut up,” you manage to say despite your voice breaking on a gasp. But it’s endearing how he can’t hold himself back. Hips continue to grind down and contact remains. Your clit catching on the hard ridge of his cock again makes your eyes flutter. When you make another roll of your hips, it pulls a needy sound from his throat. His hands grip your waist tighter while returning the movements and rocking up to meet you. It’s slow and shaky. Pressing closer while floating in the cold and chasing every spark both of you can find. The quietness of the environment feels too loud around the two of you, which mixes with the sounds from your mouths. Everything is narrowing down to the way the bodies rub, slide, and catch together again and again. The head builds until it’s too much to ignore. Hands clutch fabric, hips rolling as another breathless whimper slips free, your forehead pressed to his shoulder while you grind again, chasing another slow drag of pressure that makes your clit throb.

A soft curse vibrates in his chest. His breath is hot against your neck while he tries to stay still. It doesn’t work for either of you. The small shift sends your bodies apart, and it’s enough for the cold to get in between you. It makes your skin crawl while your fingers clutch his shirt before it slips away from his body after he removes it. The fabric is floating in the air and twisting in the low light. His chest comes into view, and warm skin catches the dim glow while his hands hover near your waist. Touch feels unsure like he doesn’t know if he’s doing anything right. Your breath comes out in a shaky laugh. “How the fuck does sex even work up here?”

A crooked grin lifts his lips, eyes flicking down between your bodies before coming back to yours. “Wanna find out?” He asks like it’s already decided. You float backwards and your hair lifts around your face while you try to keep your knees pulled up. Thighs pressing together as a tingly feeling is buzzing heavily in you. All you can give him is a nod with your teeth caging your bottom lip when your eyes drop to his chest. You watch how it rises and falls while he breathes.

Johnny’s hand touches the hem of your sleep shirt, and his fingertips brush against your chest when he pulls it up. The shirt slipping over your head and drifting in the air to join his that’s already somewhere settling in the air. You don’t even realize that your bra is also off now on how his hand moves fast. Just realized it when goosebumps scatter across your skin. Your nipples harden when they come into contact with the cold air while your arm floats upwards. Hands are trying to push your hair back from your face. His eyes catch on your tits, pupils darkening before he drags them back up to meet yours. Lips parted as he breathed out a soft, “Fuck.”

Shorts come next, your fingers sliding with the waistband while your body spins gently in the air. The fabric of your shorts and panties slides down to your thighs. He just throws it somewhere that joins the clothes above your eyes. Your cunt is exposed now. It’s wet and warm in the cold at the same time. His gaze drops again and the muscles in his jaw flex as he swallows. “Come here.” His voice has a glint of a perfect mix of roughness and softness that pulls your organs tangled deep in your stomach. A hand lands on your waist to guide you closer to him. His knee makes your thigh drift apart to open.

Your hands are shaking with the waistband of his sweats before you tug it down along with his boxers inside. It’s enough for his cock to spring free. He removes the rest, and your eyes lock at his flushed tip. There’s a bead of precum glistening on the head. It doesn’t stay in his body for too long because it drifts away in a tiny droplet. After all, there’s no gravity right now. “Johnny,” you whisper. Voice sounds broken already. Forehead pressing to his and your body shivering as your cunt clenches around nothing. It’s desperate for friction.

“Yeah.” His breath mixes with yours warmly and softly, while his hands slide down to your ass to pull you closer until your hips align. “Hold on to me.” Fingers clutch his shoulders as your legs wrap around his waist. Your body presses closer as the head of his cock brushes through your folds. It catches on your clit in a way that sends a whimper from your lips. A shiver runs down your spine before your hips tilt to chase the feeling again. Forehead bumps against his white hair floating between your faces.

“Fuck, wait- shit- Johnny,” you stammer as you try to keep your body steady while you adjust. The slide of his cock against your pussy makes your thighs twitch. “I’m trying,” he mutters with a breathless laugh leaving him. His hand slides up your spine to steady you and presses you back against the nearest wall panel. “Just- here, like this.” You could feel the cold metal when your back meets it. The feeling sends electricity to your spine, but it gives you enough leverage to change the position of your hips and tilt them. You start grinding his cock between your folds with your clit catching on the thick ridge as your body rocks. It chases the growing forest in your belly that, at this point, it’s not just butterflies or fluttering you feel right now. His forehead drops to your shoulder as a low groan vibrates against your skin. His hips roll in a slow and shaky motion.

“Fuck, you feel- hnngh- good,” he breathes out, his cock gliding through your slick, and dragging over your clit with each slow thrust. “Don’t stop,” you whisper. Your voice breaks on a gasp as your legs tighten around his waist to pull him close. Hips moving to grind your pussy against his cock while your body starts to tremble. “Not gonna,” Johnny says, his hand slipping under your thigh to hold you in place. The other is bracing against the wall near your head as he thrusts again in slow and careful motion. His cockhead slides against your clit in a way that will make it pulse.

Both of you are floating in the cold with bodies pressed together. The warmth you feel is getting worse with every grind especially how your cunt gets more slicked and needy. Clit throbbing each time the tip drags over it. Every breath he makes comes out shaky. Every small movement you both made sends sparks in your skin. It feels awkward how things are floating around you like it’s some kind of silent witness. It’s also forgotten in the low gravity while your hips roll again, desperate for more. The burn builds the moment his cock slides in slowly. It’s thick and long and it’s splitting you open until your walks flutter around him. It snatches a rough sound from his throat.

Head falling back against the wall while you try to anchor yourself. Knees tight and legs wrapped around his hips while your nails scratch the muscles in his back. Nails digging and clearly will draw red lines that you’ll see tomorrow. The stretch of his cock makes your cunt pulse and clench. There’s a soft gasp that catches in your throat while your toes curl. The small shifts send your body floating a few inches from the wall and the gravity. A small shift sends your bodies floating a few inches from the wall. The gravity is nonexistent in the cold air while your hair drifts around your face. His hands grab your waist to pull you down on his cock again, but the movement only sends you both drifting. A laugh slips from your lips. It’s breathless but it turns into a whimper when his cock nudges deeper.

“Hold on,” Johnny grits out, trying to push you back toward the wall again. His hips roll, pressing you against the cold metal as your thighs tighten around him, ankles locking behind his back to keep yourself close. “Trying,” you manage to say while your fingers are gripping his shoulders. Nails dig into his skin and will create moon shapes when you pull them away. It makes you press them harder when he thrusts again. It’s slow but deep. You can feel all of him. Cunt so slick, so you can hear how it moves, especially since it’s so quiet right now. He drags against your walls and his tip kisses your cervix, which makes your stomach turn upside down.

Your back arches when his hand slips between your bodies and fingers brushing over your clit. The touch is light, teasing, making your hips jerk forward as you chase the pressure. A soft “fuck” leaves your lips when he circles it again, slow and steady, matching the slow thrust of his cock as he fills you. “D-don’t stop,” you whine out. Breathing hitch as your nipples brush against his chest. The friction makes your pussy clench more around him. He managed to drop his mouth to your neck and teeth grazing over your pulse point before his tongue licks it. Doesn’t take long before he bites it like he wants to taste more of you. It pulls another shaky moan from your throat.

When he thrusts, it sends you both to drift upward again. Bodies are moving away from the wall. It made you clutch into him tighter just to try to pull him back down. The movement just makes him press deeper inside of you. Angle hitting it perfectly as your head drops forward to rest against his shoulder. It makes you wetter as the warmth spreads in your stomach. Feels heavy and sweet when your hips roll and trying to keep the pace slow. “Fuck, you feel so good,” Johnny mutters against your skin, breath warm on your neck while his hand keeps working your clit. His other hand grips your ass, pulling you closer as he thrusts again, the slide messy and perfect, your cunt squeezing around him with every slow drag.

“Johnny,” you whimper. Voice breaking when his cock pushes in deep, hips grinding as you feel the ridge of his cockhead catch on your spot. The drag is so good it sends your legs shaking, thighs trembling around him while your toes curl. “Yeah, baby, just like that,” he mutters before groaning. He presses you against the wall again, and it makes a soft thud when your back touches it. The coldness is fighting the heat burning in your body while he’s thrusting in slow and deep motion. Each roll of his hips sends green lights of pleasure through your body while your nails scratch down his back. It leaves faint red lines on his skin. Your body starts to float again with each slow grind, and. your hair drifts while your cunt clenches around him.

It feels wet and tight for him when his cock slides in and out. The pace is impossible to keep steady in zero gravity, but it doesn’t matter when every push sends you both one step closer to finishing. His head dropped down to the ground, and you can feel his hot breath on you. “This is so fucking hot,” he whispers, voice rough, before his mouth catches yours in a messy kiss, teeth clacking softly as your bodies float and bump in the air. Your hips roll again, clit grinding against his hand, heat building and building without letting you fall over the edge. The drag of his cock inside you is too good to stop, each slow thrust making your cunt clench tighter, slick dripping down your thighs while you both breathe each other in, your legs wrapped around his hips like you’ll never let go.

Floating bodies knock together as Johnny tries to thrust, hands braced on your hips while the two of you spin lazily in the room’s low light. A soft laugh breaks from your lips when your back bumps against a panel. The impact made you shove your body to him and you felt him slide deeper. Arms tangled around his shoulder like you are locking him in place. Nails are marking him up on his back muscles. Legs wrap tighter around his waist like you are scared he will go. “Fuck, hold on,” Johnny mutters, shifting to press you back against the nearest wall.

His palm slides between your thighs, fingers slipping down to find your clit. The touch sparks, making your head tip back while a breathy, “nhh- Johnny,” falls from your mouth. A rough moan vibrates in his chest as he continues to thrust into you again. “Yeah, that’s it,” he says with his lips brushing against your jaw. Freehand squeezing your thigh hard, enlistment to make it bruise if you don't remove it from there. He’s trying to keep the angle where he can slide deeper as he thrusts into you. Each movement is messy. It’s pushing you both off the wall a little before he drags you back while his forehead pressed against yours.

Pussy clenching around him when he thumbs your clit. It pulsed underneath his thumb while your hips rocked forward to welcome his movements. The weather smells like sweat, sex, and metal and it hangs in the air. When your chest slides against him it feels a little cold because the sweat is cold in your body. The soft, needy moan leaves your mouth while your toes curl in the air. Heels brushing along the hard muscle of his lower back. His lips find yours in a sloppy kiss, all wet heat and breath, muffling your broken sounds as he keeps moving inside you. Hips jerk upward, bumping you both away from the wall, forcing his hand to grab a rail to pull you back into place.

The moment you settle, he thrusts again. It’s harder and makes you gasp. “Johnny, oh- shit, Johnny-” Your voice breaks as your head tips forward with eyes squeezing shut while his cock drags against your walls. He hits the spot that makes your thighs tremble around him. “Can’t- can’t keep us steady,” he pants, but his hand doesn’t stop on your clit, rubbing tight circles as your body tenses. A small laugh breaks between your moans, but it’s cut off by a gasp when he thrusts again. “Feels good,” you whisper, breathless, forehead pressing to him as your hips push back against him, wanting more.

He grins, but it’s strained, his eyes dark as he looks down between your bodies. “Yeah? You like this, baby?” His voice drops, rough, while his thumb presses down, making you jerk. Hands sliding and caressing his shoulders. Nails continue to draw red lines on his skin just to make him closer if that’s even possible. You just want him to fill you again despite him being inside you already. The sound of the skin slapping and wetness fills the space, mixed with his heavy breathing and your shaky moans. Johnny, on the other hand, tries to keep the pace, but every thrust pushes you both away. He just keeps dragging you back and forcing your back to scrape against the wall before he ruts forward again.

The constant push and pull turns everything sloppy, his cock slipping deeper with each grind while your walls flutter, getting close. “Fuck- fuck, Johnny, wait-” Your voice breaks when his hips roll again, cock pressing inside so deep your toes curl. “Not yet,” he mutters, forehead pressed to yours as he slows, but his thumb keeps working your clit. “Just a little longer.” Legs starting to shake and knees knocking on the sides of his ribs while you cling to him like a koala. Your mouth falls open, but there's no sound when he thrusts up again into your pussy. His lips catch yours. He’s swallowing your soft and broken moans as you float together in the cold cabin. The heat between your bodies is the only thing keeping you balanced.

Each breath you release feels tight inside your chest. Your body is straining toward him and needing to let go, but trying to hold on just a little longer. The sounds from the ship got silenced by the sounds you are making. The quiet whimpers, the slick slide of your bodies, and Johnny’s rough groans as he tries not to lose it. Your pussy is squeezing around him again and again while you hover on the edge and are almost there. You don’t care if it’s hard to move or when you move around. Or when your back makes a noise against the wall again. A curse leaves your lips when you tighten around him. The stretch has you panting. Nails digging into his shoulders while your legs squeeze tighter around his waist to keep him close.

You try to muffle a moan but each thrust makes out a needy and breathy moan for you. The way your clit has been getting a lot of affection from him. It is catching that spot that makes your hips jerk against him. A soft whimper was made by you when he thrusts again. It’s deeper this time. His cockhead nudging your sweet spot so good it steals your breath. The slide of his skin against yours feels hot, sweat sticking where your chests touch, and the air cold on your skin in the small cabin. His mouth finds your neck, teeth catching your skin in a way that makes your eyes flutter shut while your thighs shake around him.

“Shit- Johnny, please-” The words come out broken as your cunt tightens again, squeezing around him as you chase the edge. His hand doesn’t stop, thumb rubbing fast circles over your clit while his cock keeps pressing deep, making you gasp, “ngh- fuck, Johnny- !” His low groan vibrates against your skin when your pussy finally gives out, fluttering around him as your orgasm hits, sharp and sweet, pulling a cry from your throat. Legs spasm around his waist, body arching into him as your hands claw at his back, leaving red lines down to his hips while you whimper, “oh- oh god- Johnny, Johnny-”

“Fuck, that’s it, baby,” he pants, voice rough in your ear. His thrusts get sloppy as your cunt keeps squeezing around him, wetness dripping down your thighs in the low gravity while you feel him swell inside you. Another thrust pushes you up the wall before he drags you back down, his hips stuttering as he buries himself deep, cock throbbing. A grunt leaves his chest, head dropping to your shoulder as he mutters, “Gonna- fuck, gonna cum-” before his hips snap once, twice, pressing all the way in as warmth fills you, thick and heavy.

His arms locked around your waist like he’s caging you with the way he holds you tight as his cock twitches inside. Your cunt pulsing around him while you both float around and panting into each other’s neck. He can’t feel you clenching from time to time and it’s actually impressive how he doesn't cum yet straight inside your pussy. Your arms loosen so your hand can brush through his hair while your legs stay hooked around him. You're keeping him inside as your pussy throbs with the aftershocks. A small laugh bubbles out of you, breathless and shaky, and Johnny lifts his head, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead while he grins.

His breathing slows down while both of you float in the air and tangle with each other. Legs still clinging tight around him while his cock is softening inside you. Your forehead rests on his chest as you try to catch your breath. Lips brushing against his skin while the sweat cools on your body. The room feels too quiet, your ears ringing from how hard you came, from how loud your moans must have been in the thin metal walls.

Something small bumps against your ankle. Plastic scrapes against the floor before a loud, cheery voice blares into the silence. “FLAME ON!” Your eyes fly open in horror. A groan leaves your mouth, head tipping back as you cover your face with your hand. The stupid Johnny Storm figurine floats near your foot, the one he gave you just to annoy you, its speaker crackling in the quiet.

“Johnny.” Your voice sounds tired, deadpan, while your pussy still clenches weakly around him. “I hate that thing. I hate you for giving me that thing.” A snort breaks out of him, bright and sharp, his chest shaking against yours while his laugh bounces off the metal walls. “It’s my biggest fan,” he says, wheezing through the giggles while his hand slides down to your hip to keep you steady. You glare at him, fingers smacking lightly at his shoulder. “It’s fucking creepy. Turn it off.” The figurine keeps spinning near your feet, repeating in that stupid tinny voice, “FLAME ON! FLAME ON! FLAME ON!”

“Johnny, if you don’t turn it off, I swear-” Your threat dies off when he shifts to stomp it with his heel, but the zero gravity just sends it floating away, still yelling. You burst out laughing, your head dropping onto his shoulder while your body shakes against him. He wheezes, snorts again, and tries to kick it into the corner, but it bounces off the wall, shouting, “FLAME ON!” in a muffled echo. “God, I hate you.” You choke on another laugh, legs still wrapped around his waist, trying not to slip off his cock while you both float.

Johnny’s head tilts back, mouth open with laughter, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. “You don’t,” he teases you before reaching to grab the figurine and shove it into a drawer. It muffles the voice at last. Moment of peace for you. Silence falls again. It’s broken only by your soft panting. Your pussy flutters once more around him and making you both flinch with a small gasp. The last bit of warmth drips down your thigh, floating away in tiny drops before sticking to the wall.

“Do you think the others heard us?” You ask him even though you know they heard both of you. Your voice comes out small, embarrassed, and shy. All three, while your cunt clenches around him one last time, and makes you both flinch. Johnny’s grin widens as he leans in. He presses a quick kiss to your lips while he’s still buried deep. “Nah,” he says but it’s clear he’s just trying to reassure you by saying that, “but if they did, I’m never gonna let you live it down.” You groan, letting your head fall against the wall while he laughs, holding you tight in zero gravity ,your bodies sticking together, your legs wrapped around him, the two of you still floating and warm, close in the cold dark of the cabin.

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⠀⠀⠀twenty-twenty-five © addie / musingsofheaven.

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[scarletmika]

The Wonder of You : ̗̀➛ Johnny Storm x Reader

Pairing: Johnny Storm x Reader

Summary: Over your four years working for Reed Richards, you'd given yourself one job: you can be his friend, but don't fall for Johnny Storm's charms. Too bad you had already failed that mission before it could even begin.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI, SMUT (making out, unprotected sex, p in v, nipple play, oral f. receiving, temperature play, creampie, aftercare), porn with a LOT of plot, slight hint of some angst, fluff, friends to lovers, Johnny is a massive flirt, mutual pining, SPOILERS! for The Fantastic Four: First Steps, female reader but no characteristics described, mentions of parental loss, maybe some incorrect stuff regarding the 60s and how it worked but it's a fantasy world, lightly edited so apologies for any mistakes

Word Count: 17,433 words

Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧

“We need to adjust the parameters for this. There’s a few more levels that I want to adjust, to ensure that we’ve scanned the baby for all possible anomalies,”

Years ago, when you had miraculously been offered the position as Dr. Reed Richards assistant, it was a dream come true. The smartest man alive, holding 18 Doctorate degrees himself, choosing you out of the thousands of applicants to be his assistant was a ‘pinch me’ moment. Of course, he didn’t want an assistant, it was thrust upon him by his wife, but you liked to think after all this time you’d wormed your way into his heart.

Working with Reed…was something else entirely. It was a learning curve, understanding just how the man’s brain worked. Even to this day, you weren’t sure you understood it. Even when things went perfectly, when test runs on prototypes worked out better than you could’ve ever imagined, Reed was never satisfied. Something could always be better, be improved, as if his brain was factoring in the hundreds of thousands of possibilities that could occur and alter your data. You made it work, though–with patience and understanding–you managed to find the best way to work around Reed’s faults and work with him, to support him.

What was supposed to be just a job in the Baxter Building became so much more. Through it, you gained a family you never thought quite possible.

Reed’s wife, Susan Storm, was another one of the brightest minds that you had ever encountered. Kind, compassionate, but fiercely loyal and unafraid to step up to the plate when a challenge arrived, when the people she loved were threatened. You admired her and everything she stood for, the way she carried herself day in and day out. And since the day you had arrived at the Baxter Building, she welcomed you with open arms, as if you had always been part of the family.

Ben Grimm was the most talented pilot you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. The perfect counter to Reed and his panicky mind at times, having known the man long enough to understand his quirks in a way you could only hope to. Ben was always kind, always open, always ready to lend a hand or be a shoulder for anyone that needed to listen.

Johnny Storm…was the bane of your existence, in the best way.

“Wrong address, sweetheart. The modeling agency is two blocks down. I could escort you over there, if you’d like?”

Those were the first words the hot-headed younger brother of Sue Storm had said to you, passing by you in the lobby of the building on your first day, a wink thrown in for good measure when he’d spoken.

Having followed Dr. Richards' work long enough, which meant knowing bits about his personal life, you were well aware of the reputation that Johnny Storm carried. The papers and magazines, talk shows and gossip blogs, all called him a playboy simply because he’d never been in a long-term relationship but was still a ladies man. You never saw him like that, though. All you saw was a brilliant guy, a lover of space, even if that passion of his was sometimes overlooked because of his ‘love for women’.

And, oh, how you wished his empty, blatant flirting with you didn’t bring a blush to your cheeks every time, or make your heart skip a beat, but it did. Every single time, it did. You weren’t blind: Johnny Storm was objectively handsome and much too charming for his own good, and you decided right then and there that you would use every ounce of your willpower to ignore his empty flirts. You didn’t need to become another girl hopelessly in love with the heartthrob of the Fantastic Four, even if your heart ached when you saw him with anyone else.

Those four had become important to you in ways that you would never be able to describe, but Sue always described it best: a family. 

That’s why when four of the closest people to you in life went up into space for Reed’s exploration mission, and came back cosmically changed forever, you never left their sides. They were your family, and family stuck together, no matter what.

“Reed,” your comment was cautious, hands stilling at your work station in the lab of the Baxter Building. Glancing over your shoulder, Reed was hunched over the machine he’d built in just a day, specifically to monitor the health of the baby growing inside of Sue’s stomach, as Herbie rocked back and forth beside him. “You’ve scanned Sue a thousand times at this point-”

“That’s an exaggeration. I’ve scanned her 123 times-”

“That’s not the point,” he glanced over at you then, looking away the second he saw the pointed look you were throwing at him. With a sigh, you abandoned your work, leaning back against the table behind you to watch him fret over the device. “We have run every test possible, scanned for every data point that links back to the fluctuations in your DNA from the cosmic rays we noted years ago, and we’ve gotten nothing. Your baby is okay.”

“There are still more tests to run,”

Another sigh escaped past your lips, and you allowed yourself to hang your head with a shake.

Since the moment Sue had announced her pregnancy, he’d been like this: even more on edge than usual. Baby-proofing the kitchen, smoke detectors in every single room and hallway, baby gates around every corner, it was getting insufferable. A sweet gesture, overall, and a testament to how much he loved and adored Sue, but exhausting to everyone else that had to be in his presence.

“Fine, but I’m not breaking the news to Sue that you want to scan her…again,”

“I already told her to meet me down here before dinner for another scan. We can adjust the parameters tomorrow. I want another data set from today’s scan at the current parameters to compare the changes with,” Reed never looked in your direction, still fiddling with the machine in front of him. “You’re staying for dinner, yes?”

“I’m making it,” was the response you shot back to him, powering down your workstation in the lab and rising from your chair, crossing the room to stand in front of him. “Apparently Sue has been craving spaghetti, and requested my family recipe.”

“You can’t argue with a pregnant woman,” Reed muttered, just loud enough for you to hear, but he still never looked up. “I’ll see you up there for dinner, then. There’s a few more tests that I want to run.”

“You also have a meeting at 5:45 and one at 6:15,” you shot back to him as you turned to leave the lab, checking the desk calendar lying beside your work station. There was a hum from the man, the smallest acknowledgement you were going to get, so you set your sights on Herbie and waved him forward. “Come on, Herb. An extra hand in the kitchen is always nice.”

As much as you thought of the Fantastic Four as your family, you never stayed for dinner often. You always tried your hardest to uphold the lines between your work life and personal life, not wanting to blur them completely (though, you were sure you had already blurred them enough for it to be too late). There had been plenty of times over the years where you’d stayed for dinner, usually once a month at this rate.

Sue always invited you, and you never wanted to disappoint her, and you gave in often. Ben had a way of wrangling you into saying yes before you were ever given the chance to speak at all. Reed had only asked once, asking you to stay back for the dinner months ago in which they announced to you that Sue was pregnant.

Johnny asked every day. You said no, most of the time, but when you did stay for dinner it was usually because those captivating, bright blue eyes were staring into your soul and pleading with you to stay.

Speak of the devil: there he sat at the dining room table. Clad in a white t-shirt with their logo resting over the pocket and the blue pants of his suit, a weird sight given that you had been in the lab with Reed all day and didn’t think any of them had left to attend to any ‘hero’ work.

You didn’t say a word as you strolled past him into the kitchen with Herbie on your heels, simply plucking the box of Lucky Charms from his hands as you swooped past. It was impossible not to smile to yourself at the scoff of indignation he let out at your actions.

“Hey-!”

“You’re going to spoil your appetite,” you shot back at him, throwing him a smirk over your shoulder before slotting the now closed cereal box into the cupboard where it usually sat.

Herbie beeped out a set of beeps that, over the years, you had come to understand. This time, he was agreeing with you, pointing out some facts about how eating out of the box lacked moderation, and would in turn actually spoil his appetite. You gave the little robot a fist bump for that, something that Johnny shot the little helper a glare for.

“Come on, Herbert, you’re supposed to take my side on these things!” There was no real malice in his words as he got up from the dining room table, rounding into the kitchen as you took the pots and pans that Herbie had gathered for you, setting them out along the counter where you needed them. “Baby, you didn’t tell me you were staying for dinner.”

When you told yourself that you weren’t going to fall into the trap that was the charming and charismatic Johnny Storm, you weren’t prepared for two things.

One: when he got comfortable around someone, he could be an even bigger flirt. Pet names were constant. Baby, sweetheart, honey, doll, love…you name it, Johnny called you it. Constantly. So constantly you were sure the blush on your cheeks was a permanent staple. He’d even once called you his little flame–that had been met with the tip of your heel being dug into his foot.

The second thing you weren’t prepared for: touch. Johnny Storm didn’t understand personal space, not when he was comfortable around you. If you were in the room with him, he was standing less than a foot from you, and you always knew because you could feel the warmth that radiated off his unusually hot skin. His hands would always rest on your arm, your elbow, right at the bottom of your lower back.

Moments like this in the kitchen were normal, and yet they still fried your brain. That simply little pet name, and Johnny’s warm hand ghosting over your lower back, before coming to rest on your hip. Clearing your throat, you gently pried his hand from your body, shooting him a look as you moved around to get the ingredients for dinner, hoping your flushed cheeks didn’t give you away.

“When your pregnant sister has cravings for my personal family recipe spaghetti, I’m required to oblige her,”

“I asked you to make this for me two weeks ago and you refused,”

Johnny followed close behind you, like a little puppy following its owner. You tried, and failed, to contain your smile at his actions. The media might paint him as some sex god (you weren’t going to lie…if he wanted to be, he could be) but you saw him for what he was: the epitome of a little golden retriever at times.

“Well you aren’t a hormonal pregnant woman with super powers,” you shot back at him, taking the opened jar of spaghetti sauce from Herbie’s hand and dumping it into the pot on the stove top, turning up the heat on the boiling pot of water for the noodles Herbie had laid out for you.

“No, but Johnny is a hormonal guy with super powers, who adores your cooking,” bumping his hip with yours, Johnny stole the wooden spoon from your hand with ease, dipping it into the simmering sauce to stir. With that same ease, he leaned down just slightly, leaving a kiss to your bare shoulder that felt as if it had left a brand into your skin. “Johnny also happens to just adore you, and loves when you stay for dinner.”

You had given up on the blush by now. He’d surely seen it enough over the years with his incessant flirting, there was no use in hiding it. Bumping your hip back with him, biting into your bottom lip in a failed attempt to conceal the smile spreading across your lips, you stole the wooden spoon back from him.

“Johnny also talks in the third person too much, and is an insufferable flirt half the time,” he dipped his hand into the sauce, coating his fingers in red as you whacked lightly at his hand, forcing him to withdraw as quickly as he’d dipped in. “What have I told you about doing that!”

He’d laughed, one of your favorite sounds, as you glanced over at him with a bright smile, unable to truly stay mad at him…ever.

That was, until he dipped his sauce-covered ring finger and middle finger into his mouth to lick the sauce clean off, eyes never leaving yours and a smirk curling up on his lips. It forced you to swallow the lump that had formed in your throat and look away as quickly as you could, feeling a different kind of heat swelling in your body: yeah, Johnny knew exactly what he was doing.

“Not sure, baby, that look you’re giving me right now doesn’t scream that I’m insufferable-”

“Oh, that’s exactly what it’s screaming,” you shot back, even with the ghost of a smile pulling at your lips as Herbie readied the garlic bread on the counter behind you. “If you’re not going to help, you can leave this kitchen. I don’t care if you live here.”

Johnny rolled his eyes in response, hopping up onto the counter next to the stove where you worked. You caught the box of noodles he knocked over before they could fall to the ground, shooting him a look as he held his hands up innocently, dumping them into the boiling water pot.

“You basically live here, too,”

“I don’t-”

“Yeah, because you keep refusing the room that Sue prepared for you,”

He…wasn’t wrong. Two years ago, Sue had transformed what was previously the guest room into a room that looked like it had been built just for you. Your favorite color on the walls, a matching quilt set on the bed, and she’d offered it to you. A place to stay, to live, given that Reed sometimes had you in the Baxter Building until the oddest hours of the morning.

You declined, still desperate to keep that line between your work life and your personal life separate, as tempting of an offer as it was. Sue wasn’t slighted by your decision at all, instead offering it to you to use whenever you needed to. There had been times in which you had taken up that offer, a few changes of clothes tucked away in the room on the odd chance that you’d need them.

“This place is your home, not mine,” you didn’t look at Johnny as you spoke, simply shaking your head as you stirred both the sauce and the noodles in their respective pots. “I’m Reed’s assistant, I’m not family-”

“Stop it,”

Even with the heat that rolled off Johnny Storm, every time his bare skin touched your own it sent a shiver straight down the length of your spine. His hand curled around your jawline, thumb and index finger pinching at your chin to force you to look up at him, to gaze into those intense blue eyes and the look on his face that had morphed so quickly from playful to serious.

“Johnny-”

“You are family, whether you like it or not,” the statement didn’t surprise you, it wasn’t the first time in your four years of knowing him that Johnny had said something like this to you, or anyone on the team for that matter. It always made you feel warm inside, though, to hear him say it, to see that loyalty and love for the people he cared about shine through in his words, such a stark contrast to the way the media sometimes portrayed him. “There’s not a thing I wouldn’t do for you.”

That was new. He hadn’t made a declaration like that to you before.

It was something about the look in his eyes as he said it–so genuine, so soft–that had you melting into his touch. His hand curled back up to your cheek, thumb just barely caressing the apple of your cheek, leaving a trail of heat with every swipe of his finger against your skin. Your heart betrayed you, fluttering in that moment like it always did.

These moments used to be few and far between. You didn’t know how else to describe them besides just calling them moments. Over the first few years of knowing Johnny Storm, there were small moments where that empty flirts verged on the edge of something different, something raw and real. But in the last year, they happened more often than they didn’t. Johnny wasn’t pictured out with as many women anymore, wasn’t brazenly caught flirting with anyone with legs and a pulse at events. And in moments like this, even in front of his family, he’d touch you, caress you, speak to you in a way that felt so genuine, that felt like it was real. Like the flirting was no longer just empty, meaningless fun.

That line between your work and personal life might have been a muddled mess, but the line between being Johnny Storm’s friend and something entirely more was practically non-existent now.

“You say that to all your women?” you quipped back, trying to hold your own, even as you were melting inside and your voice came out as a whisper. The playful look on Johnny’s face returned in a second, his fingers instead pinching the cheek he’d just been so softly caressing.

“Never, honey. Those words are reserved for my brother-in-law’s pretty little assistant,”

In typical Johnny fashion, he was able to dissolve and ruin whatever the moment was in an instant with his usual ‘charm’. Swatting his hand away, you returned your attention to the food on the stove in front of you, smiling to yourself as Herbie beeped out a popular song you’d heard on the radio behind you.

“You always have a line, don’t you?”

“Hey, you know what you signed up for, being friends with all this,” he jokingly motioned to his body, and you caught sight of the smile lighting up his face again as you laughed incredulously at his actions. “As part of the package deal, being friends with me, you are legally required to attend movie night in the living room with me after dinner.”

You hummed in response, even if you were smiling the entire time just from listening to him talk.

“This sounds like an impromptu movie night-”

“All of our movie nights are impromptu, babe-”

“I saw earlier that channel 2 is playing The Sound of Music tonight,” you shot back at him, finally looking up at him with an expectant look on your face. “That’s what I want to watch.”

Johnny groaned, throwing his head back and knocking it against the cupboards with a wince on his face. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his overdramatic antics, as usual.

“But channel 3 is showing Psycho!”

“And you dipped your hand–which, god knows where that thing might have been–into my sauce for dinner,”

Johnny opened his mouth to speak, before mulling over your words, and effectively shutting it with a nod.

“You know what, if it gets you to have a movie night with me, then I’ll take it,”

God, you adored this man, more than you should. More than you wanted to. In his presence, especially now, you were pretty sure the smile on your face was a constant, that it would never leave, as you laughed at him once more. 

Finishing off the special blend of additions to your sauce, giving it another swirl with the wooden spoon, you brought it up to your lips for a quick taste. Satisfied, you held one hand under the spoon to keep it from dripping, holding it up toward Johnny.

“Alright, give it a taste,”

His eyes stayed locked on yours, that familiar intensity and warmth in them keeping you locked in place, holding your breath, as he took a quick slurp from the spoon. Smacking his lips together, running his tongue out along his lips, he gave a definitive nod.

“As always…perfection. Though, I expect nothing less from you,”

Before you could retort to his cheesy comment, his hand reached out, eyes still locked on yours, as he cupped your chin once more and ran his finger over your lips. With the slightest of glances down, you saw the small spot of red on his finger, the remnants of the sauce he’d so gently just wiped from your lips.

Glancing back up to those blue eyes you loved more than you cared to admit, you caught the way they finally glanced down at your lips, before looking away as if to not get caught.

“...am I interrupting something?”

As if Johnny had burst into flames and burned you, you jumped away from him immediately the second you heard the voice of Sue Storm across the room. You never even looked back up at Johnny, or turned around to look at the woman by the dining room table, just stared down into the sauce pot as you continued to stir it and the noodles.

“Actually, sis, you very much are interrupting something here,” Johnny called out across the room, and you could see him gesturing with his hands between you both from the corners of your vision.

“Johnny,” you rolled your eyes, glancing over at him with flushed red cheeks from what had just transpired. “Sue isn’t interrupting anything.”

“She kind of is. We were kind of having a moment here-”

“Johnny, we were not having a moment,”

You very much were having a moment, but you weren’t admitting that to him. His ego burned hot enough, no need to stroke the fire.

Sue laughed, rounding into the kitchen as she stopped by Herbie, thanking him and taking the garlic bread tray from him to pop into the oven he had preheated.

“Johnny, why don’t you go get cleaned up for dinner and stop bothering the poor girl. Bad enough I’m making her cook for me, she doesn’t need you hovering,”

The man let out a sigh, muttering something mocking toward his sister, as he threw himself off the counter with dramatic flair. He wasn’t done making your heart race, though, his hand curling around the back of your head as he planted a kiss directly to your hairline, before he disappeared from the kitchen with a pat to Herbie’s head.

The pots on the stove were forgotten as you turned around, simply watching him disappear with an incredulous look on your face. Quickly, your eyes shot to Sue, who was watching you with a smirk as she leaned against the island counter.

“There was nothing happening there,”

“I didn’t say there was,”

“But you’re giving me that look,”

“I’m not giving you any kind of look,” the blonde laughed, stepping up beside you to take the wooden spoon from your hand, tasting the sauce herself with a happy little sigh. “Just…enjoying watching the show from the sidelines, waiting for one of you to make a move.”

“Sue, there’s no move to make. He’s just…he’s Johnny,”

“And Johnny is my brother,” she shot back with a grin. “And Johnny has never been like that with someone, just with you.”

You didn’t get to respond, before Herbie cut in with another series of beeps. Your eyes shot wide as you listened to what he was saying, cheeks flaring an even brighter shade of red as Sue choked on air, laughing to herself at your side.

“HERBIE! THAT’S SO INAPPROPRIATE!”

❤︎

It had been two weeks, and Reed had somehow managed to scan Sue a total of 142 times, now. Sometimes, you wondered how she was able to put up with his hovering, the hovering that had gotten exponentially worse since she announced she was pregnant.

“I’m not getting clear imaging,” Reed called out from the other side of the lab, the only sound in the room being the incessant beeping of the machine he’d built to monitor the baby, and the solder iron in your hand as it worked away on the small device in front of you. You shook your head at his comments once more, adjusting the eye protectors resting on the bridge of your nose as little sparks jumped up as the last piece of the triangular device was finally attached. “I’m going to have Herbie recalibrate this, I don’t like the data output I’m getting, I want a clear image on the next scan. Is the second bridge device ready?”

“Just finished fixing the soldering on the stand, so it should be good to go,” you shot back, tossing your eye protectors down at your workstation, lifting the device carefully and carrying it over to Reed’s station, setting it down with the matching device. “And, once again, you really don’t need to scan the baby again.”

You were met with silence, unsurprisingly. Until, the workstation down the room set off its alarm bell, a familiar tone that had you stand up straighter where you stood.

“New deep space transmission,” there was a hint of elation in Reed’s tone as he said it, quickening his pace across the room with Herbie hot on his trail. “Let’s identify the origin, then record it for further analysis.”

Quickly walking back over to your workstation, your eyes drifted to that desk calendar sitting next to you, and to today’s date: a poorly drawn flame, and the time “2:15” scribbled in a barely legible handwriting that you recognized instantly. Even if you hadn’t, the terribly drawn heart with your initials in it scribbled in the corner would’ve given it away.

“Your analysis is going to have to wait, Reed,” you called out with a sigh, knowing you weren’t the one who put this meeting on the calendar, but you sure knew who had. “You have a 2:15 incoming.”

“2:15? What 2:15?” Reed never even looked in your direction, focused on the new transmission. “You didn’t tell me there was anything on my calendar.”

“Well, I didn’t put this one on the calendar myself, but you must have cleared it at some point…”

Just then, the elevator doors to the lab popped open with a familiar ding sound.

“Ah–Reed!”

Good god, Johnny Storm was trying to kill you. You weren’t even sure if that was an exaggeration at this point, because you wouldn’t put it past him.

Blue looked good on him, it always had, but the navy blue button up he was wearing was doing nothing for your mind that was screaming at you to “keep it professional.” It didn’t help that the first few buttons were already undone, giving a slight peak to his chest. The white chinos–those were the nail in your metaphorical coffin. They had no right to be that tight, and he had no right to look so damn good in them.

“Ah…that 2:15,” you tried your best to conceal your laugh at Reed’s comment across the lab. “Johnny, do we have to today?”

“Johnny, do we have to today? As if I didn’t ask to put it on the schedule,” the blonde man in question mumbled mockingly to himself as he slid up to your side at your workstation as you laughed at his antics. One of his hands grabbed the back of your neck, tugging you closer before you could even think about it, pressing another kiss to your hairline. Suddenly, you felt like you were back in the kitchen weeks ago. “Darling, have I ever told you how breathtaking you look in your lab coat?”

“It’s a white coat, Johnny, it’s nothing special,” you deflected, taking just a short glance up at him before you had to look away, already knowing you were as red as the table beneath your hands.

“But the girl wearing it is-”

“Johnny, do you want to have this meeting or do you want to flirt with my assistant?”

You hung your head with a groan, even as Johnny laughed at the comment from his brother-in-law. His arm slung around your waist, hand settling on your hip as the heat that rolled off his body enveloped you for a moment, letting yourself lean into the side hug he gave you and the squeeze to your hip, before he was gone.

“There’s enough time in the day to do both! No, I had some thoughts about the new suit designs,”

“There are no new space suit designs-”

You glanced over at the pair as they met face-to-face in the middle of the lab, Johnny holding up the sheet he was concealing behind his back.

“You finished them years ago…they have dust on them,” Johnny deadpanned, letting out a sigh as Reed took the design sheet from him. “Look, I get it. You’re going to be a father soon, you’re scared-”

“I’m not-I’m not scared,” Reed cut in immediately, and you could hear the anxious undertone that overtook him immediately at Johnny’s words. Without even having to be summoned, knowing how his brain worked after all this time, you simply shrugged off your lab coat and stalked over to the pair, taking the design sheet from Reed’s hands without a word and placing it on his chalkboard full of equations. “I’m-I’m busy, Johnny. I’m busy. I’m busy, there’s a difference.”

“He means busy on his pace to scan Sue at least 200 times before she gives birth,” you shot back, sending Reed a bright smile that he frowned at, clearly seeing that you were siding with Johnny here. “Not terrified of becoming a father at all, those two things definitely don’t correlate.”

Johnny laughed, smile bright, and it only brightened the one on your face, a tug somewhere deep in your chest pulling on you when he locked eyes with you. Reed snapped your attention back to him in an instant, running a hand down his face as he gestured in Herbie’s direction.

“Just handle the new deep space transmission, please, instead of ganging up on me with Johnny,”

You laughed, heels clicking against the floors of the lab as you joined Herbie’s side as he waited for the transmission to be scratched into the record. There was a woosh of air, the air beside you heating up instantly as a hand found its way to rest on your lower back.

“Have you listened to it yet?”

The smile on your face softened as you glanced over at Johnny, who was staring down at the record in front of you both with pure excitement in his eyes. Beyond the physical moments, his flirtatious moments, these were the moments that had your plan to not fall for Johnny Storm splitting at the seams, if it hadn’t already.

“Seems to be a lot more of the same, just another complex signal,” Johnny left your side, the heat going with him, as he leaned against the blue table behind him. Herbie took the record from its place, rolling over to Johnny to hand it directly to him. “You’re more than welcome to take it with you, give it a listen.”

He twirled the record in his hands with a grin, absentmindedly reaching out to scratch the top of Herbie’s head. That simple little action elicited a giggle, hand coming up to cover your mouth as Johnny glanced up at you with a smirk.

“What’s so funny?”

“Herbie isn’t a dog, and yet you treat him like one,” you explained, stepping up just in front of him and grabbing his hand lightly, stopping the twirling of the record in his hands. “Also, you do know you aren’t supposed to get your fingerprints all over these, right?”

It was Johnny’s turn to laugh as he spun his hand, catching it in his palm and bringing it up to his lips, leaving a scorching hot, but gentle, kiss to your knuckles, sending a shiver straight through your bones. He didn’t even have a retort to your comment, just simply held your hand in his, thumb stroking along your skin, while your entire body flushed with a feeling you wanted to ignore.

“Johnny, what have I told you about flirting in my lab? I need my assistant, we’re trying to run a test,”

The moment was gone in seconds, your hand dropped from Johnny’s as he raced to the other side of the lab, following closely behind Reed and tossing the record onto the closest table.

You could only shake your head with a laugh, walking beside Herbie to join them, knowing Reed would be mumbling to himself the rest of the week about this moment and how much Johnny liked pissing him off.

“Cool! I got time,”

Reed didn’t roll his eyes as you and Herbie joined them back at your workstations, but you could see how much he wanted to. Holding the device you’d just finished off in his hand, you watched in the same awe you had for four years as his arm stretched across the length of the lab, placing it right back beside your own workstation.

“Bridge teleportation test one,” grabbing the notebook lying beside the device that contained your notes on the project, you flipped to a new page, prepared to note down any disparities that occurred during the test, as Reed placed an egg on the newly soldered stand. “Movement of organic matter six meters.”

Johnny grabbed the protective glasses beside the work desk, about to slip them on, before Reed took them with no hesitation and slipped them on himself. The blonde turned to you with an incredulous look that simply drew a laugh from you.

“Those are his pair, you can’t touch his pair,” you teased the man, who simply shot you a wink in return, as you both took the pairs that Herbie was holding out to you both. Johnny gave the little robot a quick fist bump.

Such a simple action that still had you grinning in childlike adoration at the side of his face.

Reed gave you a simple look, confirming you were ready. You gave him a nod, as he took hold of the switch to activate the device.

“Let’s run it,”

The whirring of the machine sounded, three silver beams of energy emitting from the device and encasing the egg within a sphere of energy. There was a shift in the room as that energy grew, as the hum of the machine filled the air, before there was a simple POP–and the egg was gone.

One glance from each of you over your shoulders was enough to confirm that the egg was, in fact, sitting on the opposite platform. Completely untouched and intact.

“It worked!” Johnny exclaimed, gesturing toward the egg.

That’s when the power to the building cut out.

It wasn’t surprising, given the notes you both had taken. The amount of energy that needed to be funneled through the device in order to channel enough energy to actually move organic matter without hurting it was sure to be beyond the energy limits of the Baxter Building. A full power outage…not what you were expecting. Not that you could write that note down in the pitch black of the room.

“Johnny,” Reed’s voice called out in the dark, steady with no hint of any emotion you could decipher in it. The man in question came to life beside you, body engulfed in flames, the flame resistant fabric of his specially tailored clothing working overtime to keep him from being stark naked. He stood with his hands on his hips, and even from the side you could see the smirk curling up on his lips. “Could you reset the breaker?”

You’d known Johnny long enough now, been his friend for enough years, to know him. Know him better than a colleague should. The instant dip in his smirk to a frown was clear, the tension in his broad shoulders, as he tossed his glasses down onto the table. He didn’t spare either of you another look, crossing the room to grab the record.

“Other way-”

“I know,” Johnny snapped, beside his flame engulfed body was on the other side of the lab, flipping the breaker as the electricity of the building roared to life again. The second it did, he was in the elevator, doors shutting without another word.

Neither you nor Reed spoke for a moment, simply looking down at the bridge teleportation device on the table in front of him.

“I’ve upset him,”

Reed didn’t phrase it like a question, he said it like a statement. Both were true, though. Reed always knew when he had upset Johnny, but never how he had really upset him.

You took a deep breath, nodding, as you scribbled a note in your notebook before turning on your heels, stalking back to your own workstation.

“Well, he went out of his way to put time on your calendar just to talk to you about the suits, and you did dismiss him…” you trailed off as you reached your station, eyes flickering back down to that desk calendar beside you. You couldn’t help it, letting your fingers lightly trail over that little heart with your initials, smiling to yourself, wishing it meant more than what it did mean: nothing. “Johnny loves space, he only got to go up once before…this all happened. You can’t blame him for wanting to go back.”

It was quiet for another moment in the lab, before Reed spoke up again.

“You know him well…better than I think I do,”

The flush in your cheeks was inevitable at that, embarrassment flooding you as it was easy for you to read between the lines of what Reed was trying to insinuate.

“I-I just listen to him. I always listen,”

It was quiet again.

“Go check on him,” was all Reed said. “If there’s anyone he’d want to talk to right now, it’s you.”

You wanted to argue, to save the crumbling bits of that wall between work and personal, but even you knew it was too late for that.

Johnny’s bedroom door was just two down from the guest room Sue had offered you years ago, a bathroom being the only thing that separated them. Ben’s room was at the other end of the hallway, along with the nursery where the soon to be baby Richards would sleep.

You may not have stayed in that guest room often, but you’d been in these hallways enough to know it like the back of your hand. To know it like it was your own home. 

There were countless nights, before you’d make the short walk back to your apartment, where Johnny had coerced you into movie nights in his room. He’d never try anything, never push you into something, always leaving the door open to make sure you knew he wasn’t bringing you upstairs for some alternative reason. His room was just quieter, and felt more private. It gave you the chance to see the side of Johnny that the world didn’t get to see.

The space lover, who spent his life dreaming of being an astronaut, of going into space and seeing the stars. He was a thrill-seeker, always wanting to live his life on the edge, to find joy in those rushes of adrenaline. But beyond it all, just a good man. A man who had an entire collection of records lining one wall of his room, organized from his favorite records to his least favorite, even though he claimed there wasn’t really a least favorite. The world got to know the Human Torch, but in  the confines of those four walls, you got to know Johnny Storm. The second you did, you knew your heart was fucked.

You found him in a spot you’d found him in before: leaning against the floor to ceiling windows of his room, staring out at the spaceship he hadn’t stepped foot in for four years. Your heart broke slightly from where you stood in the doorway, able to see the longing that was woven into his frown, that shone through his eyes that never strayed far from the Excelsior.

“You know,” with a few steps into the room, standing beside the record player, you lifted the needle to stop the replay of the foreign language from the deep space transmission that played on a loop. Johnny looked over, a soft smile overtaking his frown at the sight of you, as you kept your own voice soft and light. “I don’t think deep space transmissions are the right background music if you’re going to stare longingly out your window.”

Johnny laughed in a huff, turning on his heel to flick through his record collection.

“And suggestions then for a melancholic moment such as this?”

“Elvis typically has some hits that can set that mood,”

You watched him, the slight shake in his body that hinted he was laughing again, before he plucked a record from the shelves and rose back to his feed. Standing beside the record player with you, he slid it into your hands without another word and plopped into the chair just across from the player.

With care, like you’d done it a hundred times before (you had, right here in this room), you slipped the record onto the player, dropping the needle down as it coasted along the grooves etched into the record.

When no-one else can understand me, when everything I do is wrong…you give me hope and consolation. You give me strength to carry on.

The lyrics settled in you heavily, but it made your body feel lighter. It was impossible not to read into them, to not think too hard about the deliberate music choice that Johnny had made. You couldn’t help that, somewhere deep in your heart where you had buried your feelings for the flaming man years ago, you were hoping these lyrics were a personal message to you.

“Reed send you to check on me?” Johnny asked after a moment, leaning back in his chair, arms folded over his chest as he watched you. Composing yourself for a moment, shoving the flurry of butterflies beating against your chest down, you turned to face him and his blue eyes with a shrug.

“Technically, but I would’ve come on my own,” Johnny hummed, the ghost of a smile on his lips, as his gaze found its way back to the spaceship taunting him just beyond the window. “Come on, matchstick, talk to me.”

He huffed out another laugh, stretching his arms above his head as you tried your best to keep your eyes trained on his face and not drift down his torso. Eventually, his arms settled back across his chest, his gaze still stuck out the window.

“I don’t know…it’s stupid. Last time we went up, we came back with superpowers, trust me, I get that. Now, he’s got a kid on the way. But I know–I know–that he knows how much space means to me. So, when he just dismisses me like that-”

“It makes you feel inadequate? Like you’re a child?” Johnny’s gaze found you again as you shrugged with a light smile. “I’ve worked in an enclosed space with him almost every day for four years, Johnny. He used to make me feel that way all the time, until I realized that Reed’s never trying to make me feel like that.”

“I know he’s not doing it on purpose…doesn’t mean I’m not going to shit talk him in the confines of these walls,” he gestured around the room as you laughed, coming to stand beside his chair, looking down on him as he sighed once more. His hands fell, gripping his knees, as he rubbed them back and forth against the fabric of his pants. “I love space. Simple as that.”

You hummed, bending down beside the chair Johnny sat in so that you were essentially squatting before him, having to look up at him. Hesitation caught you for just a second, your brain actively fighting a war with your heart as you raised your hands, but you ultimately took his hands in yours. 

All it took was a second for your eyes to drift over to the table beside him. One lamp, a stack of books, and the flash of a polaroid photo leaning against those books: a photo of you. Taken at some point in the lab, laughter written across your face, your hand almost blocking a portion of the lens as you tried to stop him from taking the photo. You didn’t even remember it being taken in the first place.

Good god, he was really going to be the death of you.

Eyes quickly back on him, with a little squeeze to his hands, you gave Johnny the most comforting smile you could, even as your heart did somersaults in your chest.

“I know you do. You’ll go back to space, Johnny, I promise,”

His eyes watched your hands, and you could see it on his face: that hint of adoration, that hint of something genuine that suggested it wasn’t all just a game, that you weren’t imaging moments for more than they were.

“What if I don’t?”

“You’re Johnny Storm, I’ve never seen you not get something you wanted before. Especially not something you want this bad,”

His mouth parted just slightly as he hesitated. You watched as his tongue darted out, just barely grazing over the edge of his bottom lip, before you flicked your eyes back to his.

“You’re wrong…I think there’s something I want more. Been trying to get it for awhile, but…she just keeps slipping through my fingers somehow,”

That tug on your heart was back. Your heart was surely beating so fast that it could be heard, hammering against your ribcage, as his thumbs glided back and forth across your skin. You could barely think of a response, too stuck on his words: the closest thing to a confession of any kind you’d heard in four years. Raw, real, genuine.

Johnny stood quickly, barely giving you a chance to potentially think of a response as he tugged you back to your feet. His arm enveloped your waist, your hand falling to his bicep as he still held your other hand in the air beside you both. You weren’t sure now if the flush crawling up your neck into your cheeks was from the moment, or from the heat radiating off of him.

“W-What are you doing?”

“We’re dancing,” he said it as if it was the most casual thing in the world, that usual smirk of his back on his face. Whatever had happened moments before, whatever confession may or may not have been said, was brushed away in an instant, that charming, flirty personality of his back in full force. “Can’t turn on Elvis and not dance, I think that’s a literal crime.”

“I didn’t know you even knew how to dance,”

“Oh, I don’t, Sue’s been telling me for years that I have two left feet,” Johnny shot back, shooting a wink down at you as his hand readjusted its grip along your waist. “Can’t be that hard with the prettiest girl in the building in my arms, right?”

Swaying back and forth, wrapped up in the heat of his body, in the faint smell of the cologne that coated his clothing, you were very certain that Johnny Storm was going to be the death of you.

And when you smile the world is brighter. You touch my hand and I'm a king. Your kiss to me is worth a fortune, your love for me is everything.

Johnny tilted his head back from you by just a hair, and you followed suit. Deep blue eyes, as captivating to you as they were the first time you ever saw them, shone with an emotion you couldn’t quite decipher. If you could, you weren’t sure you would survive knowing. 

Faces just an inch away, the closest and most intimate moment you’d ever shared with the man you knew in your heart was never going to be just your friend, your colleague, you were verging on the edge of making a terrible choice. Of opening the floodgates, of unlocking the feelings you’d buried away so long ago and letting them flow.

“This is an interesting little relationship you and I have, you know,”

Johnny always found a way to ruin these moments, and this was just another example. Lips tugged up into a smirk, mischief swarming his eyes as he teased you, that fleeting moment of raw vulnerability was gone.

Hand slipped from his, body pulled back from his and a roll of your eyes, you turned on your heel within seconds.

“So typical of you, Storm,”

“What-? What did I do!”

You huffed out a laugh, a smile creeping onto your lips even as you tried to keep it at bay, as you threw your comment over your shoulder as you walked toward the door.

“You went and killed the moment, Johnny, as per usual,”

“...so you admit it, we WERE having a moment!”

You barked out a laugh, shaking your head as you crossed through the doorframe. You could never stay mad at him, not when your heart yearned for him in a way you wish it didn’t.

“Come on! At least let me make it up to you. Will you stay for dinner?”

With a final glance cast over your shoulder toward him, you shot him a bright smile.

“If you’re lucky, flame boy!”

❤︎

Yeah, you really couldn’t say no to Johnny Storm.

Not when he’d spoken so sweetly to you, held you so tenderly, and all around just invaded every part of your brain and your heart. To be fair, he barely had to try honestly to do that.

It wasn’t shocking to see Ben in the kitchen, it seemed to be one of his happy places. You weren’t complaining: on the nights you did stay for dinner, and Ben was cooking, you knew you were going home with the best leftovers the city of New York had ever seen.

“Decided to stay for dinner again?” Sue called out toward you with a smile, giving Herbie a pat on the head as he worked away at carving a pumpkin. You shot her a smile in return, pouring yourself a quick glass of water before making your way toward Ben.

“Johnny asked…and I decided to be nice and oblige him,” you didn’t miss the teasing hum that Ben let out, lightly whacking him on his rocky shoulder. Not that it did you any good, hurting your hand more than it would ever hurt him. His laughter was ignored as your eyes lit up, catching sight of the familiar black and white cookies he was dumping onto a plate. “Oh my god, did you go grab these from Maisie’s?”

“Yes,” Ben waved your hand away when you went to reach for the cookies, producing another paper bag and sliding it your way. “These ones are yours.”

The smell that wafted from the bag was enough to have you almost moaning in the middle of the kitchen, eagerly digging one of the cookies out. Maisie’s famous snickerdoodle cookies, the perfect blend of cinnamon and sugar that you had adored since you were a little girl. One bite of the cookie had you in absolute heaven.

“Oh my god, I haven’t had these in ages!” Ben and Sue both laughed at your excitement as you took another bite of the warm cookie in your hand. “How did you know these were my favorites?”

Ben’s smirk wasn’t hard to miss at all.

“Oh, I didn’t. Johnny asked me to pick those up for you,”

It was probably time to accept that blushing around this family was the only thing you were capable of.

Sue’s laughter rang loudest as she rounded the island counter, high fiving Ben as she shot you a pointed look.

“You really have my brother wrapped around your finger without even trying, huh? You know, before I went to get scanned–again–in the lab, I stopped by the nursery to check out the crib progress. Heard a little The Wonder of You from down the hall, thought I’d peek in…”

The groan you emitted could probably be heard from the other side of the country, leaning down to barely bang your head against the countertop. Ben and Sue’s laughter rang through the air again as you looked up, desperately waving your hands.

“I swear, it wasn’t what it looked like-”

“What wasn’t what it looked like?”

Of course, Johnny chose to make his grand entrance at that moment. Thankfully for you, he’d changed out of that ridiculously hot button up. Unfortunately for you, he was still wearing those god forsaken white chinos.

“Your little dance Sue was telling me about earlier,” Ben teased, easily catching your hand as it came up to whack him again in his rough, oversized one. “What’s with the long face?”

“Oh that dance was exactly what it looked like. Thanks for coming to dinner though, sweetheart, glad you like the cookies,” Johnny tacked on a wink in your direction, one you affectionately rolled your eyes over, before his smile was back to a frown. “And what of it, Ben?”

“Sounds like your 2:15 with Reed didn’t go well. I’m sorry, pal,”

From across the room, you could see Johnny’s shoulders move in a huff of laughter as he clapped, bringing down the cabinet shelf that held the same box of cereal you had taken from him two weeks ago. You moved around the island counter, filming your cup with more water before standing opposite of Ben while Johnny made his way back over.

“Hey, I’m fine,” he spoke, though the edge in his words was clear as he did, coming to stand directly at your side. “I don’t mind or anything, it’s just, uh-”

“I hear you, pal. We’ll go to space again,”

“That’s what I was trying to tell him earlier,” you tacked on, bumping your hip with Johnny’s, who quickly did the same back to you.

That smile you adored was back in moments, though, as he dug his hand into the box and produced the action figure waiting inside: a miniature Johnny Storm. His bright grin was turned in your direction as he waved the toy toward you, his signature catchphrase from the cartoon–flame on–ringing through the air as Reed entered the room, greeting his wife by the dining room table.

“They captured my likeness so perfectly, don’t you think?” he quipped, activating the catchphrase once again as you rolled your eyes. “Do you still have the one I gave you a few months ago?”

“Yeah, buried in the junk drawer of my kitchen,”

Johnny feigned shock, pinching your side quickly as you squirmed away with a laugh.

“At least upgrade me to your bedside table so I can be with you while you sleep,” that stupid line was accented with another wink before Johnny thrust the toy in Ben’s face. “Come on, admit it’s cool.”

That catchphrase just kept repeating.

I’m Johnny Storm! Flame On!

Flame On!

Flame On!

Ben grabbed the toy from Johnny’s hand in seconds, crushing it to nothing but dust and blowing it back in Johnny’s face with a smirk. You tried everything to conceal your laughter, but it was inevitable.

“Flame off!”

Sirens rang outside the balcony of the building’s living room. The flying cars of the police force raced past, bathing the room in red and blue lights. The second they disappeared, another squadron flew past in the other direction, the sirens all intermixing in the air.

These were the moments you never got to see often, when the team sprung into action. It was clear in Johnny and Ben alone, how their silly little moment was forgotten as they thrust into action, prepared to go running out of the building into danger. Reed simply held up a hand, shaking his head at the group.

“No, no, it’s alright. This is me,”

Ben and Sue followed Reed out onto the balcony, but Johnny hung back, his gaze stuck on you as you hadn’t moved from the kitchen. He simply tilted his head toward his family, holding his hand out for you. Such a simple move that shouldn’t have kickstarted your heart into what was surely an irregular rhythm, but it did.

The second you were at his side, Johnny’s hand rested at the small of your back, fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt just so to tug you slightly closer to his side. Together, you stepped out onto the balcony of the Baxter Building beside Ben, overlooking New York as it was bathed in every corner in red and blue.

“For the past few months, I’ve been tracking a small number of criminal organizations throughout the city,”

You shot a look down at your boss, eyebrow raised.

“That’s what you’ve been doing in that notebook by your desk?” Reed simply waved your comment off, pointing just down the block, fairly close to the area in which your apartment resided.

“47 of them, to be exact. Including the Puppet Master in the Bowery, the Wizard in Gramercy Park, and Diablo in Washington Heights,”

Everyone on the balcony went quiet for a moment.

“You…baby-proofed the world,” Ben finally spoke. Sue’s sigh could be heard from the other end of the balcony as she tried to defend her husband.

“It’s a sweet gesture,”

“It’s a little insane,” you mumbled to yourself, just loud enough for you and Johnny to hear. The blonde at your side simply shrugged, glancing down at you and catching your gaze.

“It’s not totally crazy. He’s trying to protect the things he loves, what’s most precious to him…” Johnny’s lips quirked up just slightly. “I’d do it too…I’d do it for you.”

He said it so…so earnestly. With so much conviction in his tone, as if this was a certainty to him. That protecting not just his family, but you, was something he needed to do. That if it came down to it, he’d do it without a second thought.

“You…you have to stop saying things like that to me, Johnny,” you hated how breathless your voice came out, how wrecked you sounded as you whispered your response back to him, the conversation still droning on in the background between the other three.

The smile on Johnny’s face only widened, his hand slipping around from your lower back to your waist, as he gave you a light squeeze.

“Stop saying what, the truth?”

No, you need to stop saying things that are making me fall in love with you.

Love. That was a word that had only crossed your mind once when it came to Johnny Storm. 

It was two years ago, a week to the day that you had lost your mother, your biggest supporter in life. You stood at that funeral, surrounded by estranged family members you hadn’t spoken to in years, and family friends who wept for your loss. Reed, Sue, Ben and Johnny had come, offered their condolences, paid their respects.

When the others left, Johnny stayed. He stood by your side through the first viewing, never left it during the second viewing, and stood with you in the pouring rain an hour after they’d put her in the ground. You had cried, he held you, and he’d simply never left you alone that day. The colleague that had quickly become a friend, who flirted with you every chance he got, never uttered a single flirtatious comment that day. He’d simply been there, been the shoulder you needed.

That was the day you realized you may have fallen in love with the one man you told yourself not to fall in love with, and you buried those feelings in your heart for what you thought would be forever.

“Stuck in your head over there? Come on, it’s dinner time,”

Ben’s voice broke you from your stupor. The team had all started to make their way inside while you were left at the balcony railing, hands white knuckled on top of the rail. 

Johnny’s hand was held out toward you, and you ignored every part of your brain that told you not to and slipped your hand into his, letting him pull you back in toward the living room.

That’s what their watches all went off, alerts blaring in sync with one another.

It was like a firework went off, a boom shattering the night air of the city. The clouds, the sky, were painted in gold, streaks of meteors and debris crossing the sky as they fell to the earth. The sound that emitted from the golden cloud that stretched across the sky, bathing the city in its light, felt…otherwordly. Like a scream, like a warning.

A warm hand enveloped your face, turning your wide eyes away from the scene.

There were very few times you saw Johnny as serious as he was now. Jaw locked, eyes narrowed but still soft as they looked at you, the cascades of gold shone over his face, highlighting his features as another boom sounded off in the distance.

“Go inside, don’t come out,”

Words were caught in your throat. All you could manage was a nod, his thumb doing a single swipe over your cheek, before he patted Reed on the shoulder and launched himself over the railing and into the air, igniting himself as he went.

If not for the moment, you would have stopped to admire him as he flew, bathed in the reds and oranges of his fire. You were awestruck every time you got to witness those cosmic powers firsthand.

Reed, Sue, and Ben had followed not long after, as you could hear the familiar whirled of their car through the air, chasing after Johnny through the city, following whatever had just appeared from the sky.

You? You sat on the living room couch, wringing your hands together to keep them from shaking. You’d been there as they had dealt with Red Ghost, or even Moleman, but this? 

This was different. This was otherworldly. This was terrifying. And when Herbie flipped the switch of the television, rolling to your side, you were greeted with the sight of the silver alien woman hovering in Times Square for the first time.

“Your planet is now marked for death. Your world will be consumed by the devourer,” 

Her voice sent a single chill down the column of your spine. Herbie’s robotic hand reached out for yours, ceasing the endless wringing of your hands together. You took it without hesitation, though you wished in your heart it was someone else’s hand holding yours in this moment.

“Hold your loved ones close, and speak the words you’ve been afraid to speak. Use this time to rejoice, and celebrate, for your time is short. I herald his beginning…I herald your end…I herald, Galactus.”

And thus began the longest night of your life since the day your colleagues went into space and came back forever changed.

Sending the team into space was the only option, to confront this mystery at its source. Reed had given you the basics in passing: the threat was real, there was documentation of plants across the universe disappearing entirely, the chrome woman’s signature left on each of them. He’d tasked you to the launch team, to prepare Excelsior for launch in T-16 hours.

Hold your loved ones close, and speak the words you’ve been afraid to speak.

Those words rattled around your brain the entire night, into the wee hours of the morning. Even as you helped Lynn set up the press conference, as you conferred with the launch team to ensure that the Excelsior was prepared in every conceivable way, as you checked and double-checked every data point throughout the entire ship, her words never left you.

Hold your loved ones close, and speak the words you’ve been afraid to speak.

The anxiety was clawing at you, even as you threw yourself into work. The notion of what her words meant, of what could happen, of how close the end could be.

The clock read sometime around 2 a.m. when you had finally stepped foot in that guest room made for you. There was no way you were walking home tonight. Besides, come morning, there would still be too much to do, too many data points that needed to be checked, too many scenarios that would need to be run through to make sure your team came back to you.

You knew sleep wasn’t coming to you, though, not when that metallic voice was rattling around your head. Not when an alien threat was upending your life. Not when, two doors away, there was a man that you did, in fact, want to hold close…in case you never got the chance to again.

You loved him. All it took was the end of the world to admit it.

Clad in nothing but an old t-shirt with the 4 logo on the front, one you were sure was Johnny’s, and a pair of shorts, you didn’t care what you looked like as you tore out of the room and into the hallway. Not now, not when your world was being threatened, not when your entire life could be ripped from you in a matter of seconds.

Johnny was awake, just as you knew he would be. White shirt, plaid blue pants you’d seen him sleep in so many times, he stood in his dark room by the windows once more, watching the crews rush around on the ground as they prepared the ship for launch in just a few hours. That same record from earlier in the day was still playing.

I guess I'll never know the reason why you love me as you do. That's the wonder, the wonder of you.

With a step into the room, shutting the door behind you and flicking on the lamp just beside the door, Johnny finally met your eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep,” was the only thing you could manage to say. Johnny tilted his head, studying you silently, before he held out his hand just as he had done hours before.

“Come here,”

Crossing the room in a matter of moments, you all but fell into his arms. His outstretched hand ignored, he was frozen in place for just a moment as you curled your arms around his neck, throwing yourself into his arms. The faint smell of his cologne lingered, as did his bodywash, and the sigh you let out the second the smell hit you was in comfort.

It didn’t take Johnny long to unfreeze, his arms finding their place around your waist. One hand rested on your upper back, one pressing into your lower back. A faint kiss was placed to the side of your head, heat lingering for a second. Heat lingered in your entire body, radiating off of him in waves.

“You have to talk to me, baby,”

Talk? The truth was, you didn’t know where to start. How were you supposed to explain that, since the moment you had met Johnny Storm, your heart was already his. That in all your moments over the years, you’d fallen for the man you told yourself not to fall for. And as the threat from the metallic woman loomed over the world, as he prepared to try and save life as you knew it, the only thing you wanted was to be held by him. To know he was here, that he was okay, that he was with you.

“I-I’m scared,”

Those were the only words you could settle on. Johnny pulled back, his hands sliding gently around the fabric of the shirt hanging loosely from your body until they reached your face. He cradled you, so softly and gently in his hands, it was almost involuntary the way you closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, his warmth, chasing the feeling of security it brought you.

“It’s okay to be,” the gentle tone in his voice washed over you, covering you like a blanket. It’s exactly how he had spoken to you that day, standing in the rain when you refused to leave your mother’s side, reassuring you he was there. “I don’t care what the herald said, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You know that, right?”

Of course you knew that. If there was anything you knew for certain in this world, it was that when Johnny Storm said he’d protect you, he meant it. He’d spent long enough proving that to you.

There was no hesitation on your part when you laid your own hands overtop of his. Fingers curling around them, tugging his right hand just barely from your cheek, you turned and pressed the lightest of kisses to the palm of his hand.

Johnny froze. You could feel it. The slight tilt of his head, the questioning look that flickered across his face in the moonlight that shone through the windows. It was all fair. You were never the one to cross the boundary like this, to make a move such as this.

“I can’t stop thinking about what she said,” was how you tried to explain yourself, stopping and starting your sentence over and over as you tried to find the right way to explain yourself, the walls crumbling and the floodgates bursting wide open. “Hold your loved ones close, and speak the words you’ve been afraid to speak…it’s why I came to you.”

A single emotion crossed Johnny’s face in seconds: understanding.

That signature smirk of his was back in moments, even if it was twinged with a softness reserved only for you. The heat left your cheeks, but found your hands as Johnny’s fingers intertwined with yours, hanging your joined hands down between you both. There was a bright light that passed over the window for just a moment, bathing the two of you in bright light, before you were plunged back into the darkness of his room yet again.

“You did come to me…why’s that?”

“You know why-”

“I do,” he said it so matter-of-factly, that smirk growing just a tad as he leaned into your personal bubble by just a hair. “This push and pull, four years of ‘will they’ or ‘won’t they.’ I want to hear you say it, baby.”

“It’s not that easy,” you immediately shook your head, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip as Johnny simply watched you. “Saying it…makes it real.”

He scoffed, the sound mixed with laughter, as his head cocked slightly more to the side.

“You came into my bedroom at 2 in the morning–wearing my shirt, might I add–is that not real enough?”

“When you’ve spent years trying to ignore how you feel and refusing to say it, it’s not that easy to say,” you desperately tried to explain. “If I say it…then everything changes.”

Johnny took barely another step forward, and you almost wanted to step back, to bring back the space between you and preserve the small, crumbling wall that still stood between you both.

“A sexy, naked alien woman came to earth and basically prophesied our demise, darling. If there was ever a time to ‘change everything’ and lay it all on the line, I think it’s now,”

Your heart wanted to hang onto the word darling, but your brain was too stuck on the ‘sexy, naked alien woman’ part of his sentence. The sigh that escaped you was instantaneous, as well as the frown, as you shot the blonde man a pointed look.

“Sexy, naked alien woman, Johnny? Seriously?”

“Come on! She was–objectively–attractive. You can’t deny that!”

It was your turn to scoff, tearing your hands from his in a heartbeat, before spinning on your heel. You felt like an idiot–on the precipice of finally confessing your deepest, darkest secret you’d kept locked away for years, and this is what you got.

“I try to be serious with you, Johnny, and you turn it into a joke once again-”

You didn’t get far from him. A hand enveloped your upper arm mid sentence, tugging and spinning your back around. A gasp fell from your lips as you collided with the chest of the man before you.

Whatever you were going to say never saw the light of day. Not when Johnny Storm gripped at your hips, tugged you as impossibly close as he could, and finally–finally–kissed you.

The kiss you’d dreamed about for four years, finally yours.

Johnny’s lips were soft as they slanted against your own, enveloping you in his warmth. They moved against you in a steady rhythm, passionate but still gentle, still testing the waters of the line you had never crossed before. 

His hands curled into the fabric of the t-shirt clinging to your body, pushing it up just enough so that his hands could dip underneath. Your breath caught, even as his lips continued to move against yours, as his heated skin made contact with yours, and any part of your brain begging you to stop this was silenced as you melted into him.

Hands landed on his broad chest, gripping the fabric as you let him mold your body to his, the scent of his bodywash enveloping you as your body almost became one with him. In the pits of your stomach, as those heated hands trailed up your waist and ghosted over your ribcage, another flurry of butterflies erupted as a moan slipped past your lips, swallowed by his mouth.

A moan left Johnny’s lips at the sound of your own, one hand leaving your waist to curl around the back of your neck. Those slender fingers buried themselves into your hair, gripping just enough to have another groan of pleasure tumbling from your lips, as he guided your mouth against his own.

“You can’t keep making little noises like that,” his mouth barely left yours as he spoke, lips moving against yours, as he dove back in for another kiss the second he was done speaking.

“Your fault,” was all you could manage out, trying to back away just enough to speak, but Johnny never let your lips go far. Your hands glided up his chest, his neck, curling into his short hair as your thumb crested the ridge of his ear. “I’m trying to be mad at you.”

“Be mad at me later,” was his immediate response, his lips leaving yours just to find their place along your jawline and slide down into the hollow of your neck. His tongue danced its way across your skin, leaving tingles of electricity everywhere he touched you, his words murmured into your neck as he buried himself there. “I’m trying to kiss you.”

There was some part of you that wanted to protest him–over what, you weren’t even sure at this point–but you couldn’t. Not when his teeth dug just so into the side of your neck, leaving his mark on your skin as if he was claiming you as his.

You were always his.

“You c-called–oh god–you called the alien sexy while I was trying to confess,” you just barely managed to get the words out through your moans. Johnny was slowly walking you backward, straight in the direction of his bed while his lips never left the side of your neck, leaving his mark on every inch of skin he could see.

Your foot caught on the raised edge of the platform his seating area sat on, your feet stumbling backward. Johnny was there–he was always there–and tugged you back into him. And god, if you loved those blue eyes before, you loved them even more now: pupils blown wide, Johnny Storm looked about as wrecked as you felt.

“Your confession was four years late, and I’m impatient,” he stole another kiss from you, his teeth sinking just barely into your bottom lip, tugging gently. He let go, pressing a messy kiss to your lips to soothe the pain of his bite, words fanning out over your lips. “I’ve been trying to tell you I’m in love with you for four years now, so please just shut up and let me show you instead. Now–jump.”

At this point, you’d do just about anything he asked of you.

Johnny caught you with ease, both of his hands splayed out across the bare skin of your thighs, locking your legs around his hips. A choked moan fell from your lips the second your core was dragged against the painfully hard length bulging against his own pants, hands curling into his hair as you, this time, desperately pulled him into a kiss.

I’m in love with you. Those words repeated like a mantra in your head. Johnny Storm, the Human Torch, the world’s fire boy and hero that they painted like a sex symbol. The ‘playboy’ with a new girl all the time, never able to hold down a girl…was in love with you.

Your back hit the bed, body bouncing just slightly before settling. His eyes never left you as you crawled back just slightly, propping yourself up on your elbows to look up at him in the dark of the room, lit only by sky and the lamp by the door. The music played faintly in the background, but at this moment, it meant nothing to you.

Johnny’s hands gently touched your knees from where they dangled off the edge of the bed, parting them just so in order to step between them. You watched, entranced by every move he made, body flushed from the heat that coursed through your bare skin at the slightest of touches from him. With a practiced ease, his hand took hold of the back of his shirt, yanking it over his head without hesitation. It found a place to lay somewhere across the room, discarded until the following morning.

It was impossible not to stare. His broad chest, those biceps that always threatened to bulge out of every shirt he wore. His toned abdomen and the trail of hair that led straight to the waistband of his pants, the outline of him still prevalent and straining against the fabric.

“I need to know that you’re sure…about this,” you weren’t used to it, the vulnerability in Johnny’s tone. He leaned over you now, hands splayed across the bed on either side of you, barely a few inches from your face. Those blue eyes flickered down to your lips time and time again. “Because if I kiss you again, I’m not stopping until you’re mine.”

There was no hesitation on your part. Just a single movement of your arms, tossing the old shirt hanging from your upper body across the room to join his. As simple as that, you sat bare before him, chest heaving with every deep breath you took in.

“I was already yours. I always have been,” there was only certainty in your tone as you held his gaze. “Speak the words you’ve been afraid to speak…that’s why I came to you. Because if this is the end of the world, I needed you to know that I love-”

He didn’t let you finish your words. His next kiss was anything but gentle.

Messy, spit coating your lips as Johnny’s tongue seemed to invade your mouth and every one of your senses, his lips devoured yours as if you were his first meal in decades. He kissed with the hunger of a starved man, his hands grasping at every part of your skin they could–your waist, your hip, before finally your ass. The squeeze he gave to your skin, the uptick in heat you felt as if he was burning himself just slightly hotter on purpose, had another moan tumbling from your lips and into his mouth.

The hand still gripping your ass tugged you upward on the bed until your head fell against the silk pillows at the headboard. Your hands never left Johnny’s hair, carding through the strands as you frantically kissed him back, addicted to the feeling, as his hips ground into yours. That bulge in his pants pressed heavenly into your core, the friction rolling your eyes into the back of your head as you let your head fall to the pillows with a moan.

Johnny’s lips were everywhere. From your jawline, to your neck, until they finally reached your collarbone. He lavished you with his lips, tongue running over your skin as his hands trailed up the sides of your lower abdomen, stopping just as they reached the swell of your breasts.

“Since the day you walked in, I’ve thought about this,” his voice was raspy, the words barely understood as they were spoken against your skin. “Since the moment Reed introduced you to us.”

“I-I was wearing a lab coat,” you choked on your words as Johnny’s lips reached your sternum, trailing kissing down your chest, but never where you wanted him. “Hardly sexy, I’d argue.”

“It is when I’m picturing you in that coat and your heels, and nothing else,” he tacked on, before his lips wrapped around your nipple without warning.

You mewled at the sudden contact, one hand returning to his hair on instinct as your back arched off the bed and into him. Johnny’s hand on your abdomen was quick to push you back down, holding you down against the bedding beneath you.

God, with the fire that felt like it was burning through your body, you could’ve sworn that Johnny had caught you on fire. His teeth just barely grazed the sensitive bud in his mouth, a sharp intake of breath leaving your lips on instinct. He was quick to soothe you, tongue swirling around the erect and sensitive bud with rapt attention. A moan slipped through him, felt through your entire body, as your other hand tore into the bedding. Desperate for something to hold onto. Something to ground you in your pleasure.

“I’ve dreamed about you under me. Kissing you, tasting you, loving you,” his practically purred out every single word, tongue flicking back and forth over your sensitive nipple. He moved to the other one easily, delivering the same rapt attention to it.

“I’ve thought about you, too,” you relented, divulging every secret you held dear to the man who lavished every inch of you in love and adoration. “In the kitchen, the lab, in that stupid button up from earlier-”

“I knew you liked that shirt. Wore it just for you,” his husky tone sent another shot of pleasure through you, heat curling through every inch of your body.

The tips of his fingers trailed lightly down your stomach. When Johnny’s head lifted for just a moment to lock his eyes with yours, that familiar smirk on his face, you weren’t given a second to react before heat poured through his touch.

Gasps mixed with moans of pleasure fell from your lips on instinct, that unnatural heat of his pouring through his touch and into your skin. Every movement of his fingers over your ribcage and down your abdomen felt as if it was leaving your skin on fire, branding his touch into your skin so that you would never forget the feeling. Burning him into your memory so that you would always feel the phantom sensations of his touch on your skin.

“You’re absolute perfection, you always have been,” Johnny moaned into your skin, lips trailing over the mounds of your breasts with another series of a thousand kisses. Those heated fingers dipped past the waistband of your shorts, pressing directly against your clothed clit without a warning. The moan you let escape mixed in the air with the moan that tumbled from Johnny’s lips against your skin. “Jesus Christ, baby, you’re so soaked.”

The heat was still there in his fingers, setting off every little nerve ending in you even through the soaked fabric of your panties that you desperately wanted gone. Your hips ground up into his hand, whimpers falling from your lips as you chased after the feeling of him, desperate for friction.

“All for you,” even this hint of pleasure had you stumbling toward the edge, babbling almost incoherently. With a tug to his hair, you were quick to bring Johnny’s lips back to yours, arms wound around his neck. He gave into your needs immediately, devouring you in a kiss as heated as his touch was, fingers rubbing slow circles over where you needed him so desperately. “Please–Johnny, please! Please, I need you. Need you–need you so bad.”

“I got you, baby. I got you. Keep moaning my name like that, and I’ll give you the world”

Those whispered words stayed on your lips, lingering, as Johnny left you. His touch wasn’t gone long. Fingers curling into your shorts, they were discarded across the room in a flash, panties gone with them as well.

For the first time, you laid completely bare in front of the man you loved–the man you denied loving for so long. And Johnny Storm was a mess. His hair stuck up in multiple directions, skin flushed, but he was still beautiful. The most beautiful man you’d ever met, inside and out.

Johnny didn’t give you a second to truly breathe once he was done admiring you. He sprawled out along the end of the bed, head dipping between your thighs, as he licked a single stripe with his flattened tongue directly up your center.

“Fucking beautiful, and all mine,” his words were growled into your core, two fingers lazily moving between your folds and spreading every ounce of wetness around, holding you open so he could see every inch of you. “Sweeter than I ever dreamed you could be.”

He dove into you like you were the only thing that mattered. Fingers spreading you open, giving him access to every square inch, his mouth devoured you. A cool drink of water for a starving man in the middle of the desert. Johnny moved his tongue with precise expertise, as if he knew exactly what your body craved.

Delving into you, flicking back and forth as he drank in every secretion of arousal that dripped from you. That same tongue dragged its way up to your clit, swirling around in figure eights, flicking back and forth.

Cries fell from your lips wantonly, hands digging into his hair. Eyes fluttered shut, head tilted back to the ceiling, there was only one word you could repeat over and over again: Johnny, Johnny, Johnny. 

His name was all you knew anymore, too lost in your own bliss and pleasure.

In one fell swoop, your thighs were settled over his shoulders, before his head was back where you wanted it more than anything. His lips and tongue focused on your clit, still swirling back and forth, as his fingers dipped slightly lower, dancing right across your opening.

It started with one long, slender finger sliding into you. One of your hands was forced to leave Johnny’s hair, falling over your own mouth to try and conceal the cry that threatened to burst from you, afraid that the others would hear you.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he laughed against your core, his finger curling just perfectly against your walls as they clenched around him every time he dragged his finger back and forth. “Want to hear you.”

“Don’t want to–fucking hell, Johnny–let the others hear,” 

“Let them. Let them hear me love you,”

Fuck Johnny Storm and his stupid lines. His stupid dirty talk that had your walls clenching around him again and again.

Another finger joined the first, followed by another, before you were stretched as wide as you could be around Johnny. The squelch of your juices rung through the air with every move of his fingers–dragging so deliciously into you, curling up, before dragging out just to the edge of your opening. His mouth–god, his mouth–never let up, lapping away at your core like it was his job, what he was meant to do.

That coil of pleasure deep within your lower body came out of nowhere, sneaking up on you just like your love for this man had.

“Johnny–baby–I can’t. I can’t–I’m gonna-”

“Let go, darling,” came that growl in his voice again, the speed of his fingers increasing. “I got you baby, let go.”

That coil snapped in seconds after he spoke. The precipice of your orgasm was earth-shattering, like you’d never felt before. Like trails of fire through your veins, the pleasure coursing through you had your head buried into the pillow behind your head, desperately trying to conceal the wails of pleasure that tumbled from your lips. Your thighs snapped shut around Johnny’s head, but his ministrations never let up as he eagerly drank up every bit of your arousal that leaked from you.

The come down was slow, like waking up. Your breath was uneven, heart beating erratically when you finally pulled your head from the pillow. Eyes bleary, it took a moment to blink them back to life.

Johnny stood at the edge of the bed, discarding his pants and boxers to the pile of clothing littering the other side of the room. And even in your fucked-out, blissful state, one look at him for the first time had that burning desire coursing back through your veins.

He was big. There was no way around it, no denying it, no other way to put it. Flushed, hanging with that beautiful reddened tip, one large and prominent vein throbbing along the edge of it. Beads of precum collected at the tip, his hand smearing it down along his length as he gave himself one single pump before he was crawling back onto the bed.

Johnny knelt between your legs again. Even with limbs that felt like Jell-O, you met him halfway, dragging yourself into a seated position. It was the smile on his face right now, the one erupting those butterflies once more, that you decided was your favorite: soft, adoring, loving.

It was your hands that cupped his cheeks, bringing him into a soft kiss. The taste of you lingered on his lips, sweet just like he said. You poured every ounce of emotion into your kiss, trying to convey to him the years you’d spent loving him so quietly that you couldn’t admit it.

“I might be addicted to you, Johnny Storm,” your words were mumbled into his lips. He laughed so gently, stealing another peck.

“Glad you finally caught up with me, princess, I’ve been addicted since day one,”

Pressed to him, his lips stealing a thousand pecks from yours, the lust in your bones was back in full force. All you could do was hum in response, one of your hands trailing down his chest, nails dragging slowly over his abdomen, before you finally took his throbbing cock in your hand.

He felt even bigger than he looked, which didn’t even make sense in your mind. But he was hot, the skin searing into your hand in the best way. You gave him one squeeze, one tug, and you smiled at the hitch in his breath. The twitch of his cock in your hold.

Johnny’s hand quickly grabbed yours, though, unlatching it from him. All you could do was shake your head, practically whining as you tried to take your hand back.

“Johnny-”

“God, it’s so hot how eager you are to touch me,” he laughed again, tilting his head to leave a single kiss to the column of your throat. “This is about you, doll. Save that for next time. It can be a ‘welcome home from space’ gift for me. A ‘thanks for saving the world’ gift, if you will.”

Space. 

That word was enough to have your next words caught in your throat as the weight of everything came crashing back down on you. The threat, the herald, the space launch commencing in a matter of hours now, the events that brought you here in the first place.

You weren’t sure when you started crying, when a single tear slipped down your cheek, but Johnny caught it. Eyes full of concern, but understanding, he simply wiped the tears from your cheek, laying a kiss to the wet splotch of your skin.

“No crying, none of that. Just lay back, baby,”

You listened, letting his hands guide you gently to rest back against the pillows once more. Parting your legs, Johnny placed himself between them, holding himself up over your body on his forearms. Right where he belonged.

Your hands rested on his chest, sliding up so gently to his neck. His eyes never left yours, his length sitting right against your soaked and sensitive core, gliding back and forth with each gentle twitch of his hips.

“You didn’t let me say it earlier. So let me say it, for the first time outloud,” you gave him a watery smile, lips quivering as you looked up at him. “I love you, Johnny Storm. I’ve loved you for so long. I’m sorry it took the world maybe ending for this, that I didn’t let myself be yours sooner.

He smiled, that same charming smile he always did, as he rolled his hips once more. His cock caught just along the edge of your opening as Johnny dipped down, breath fanning over your lips.

“Like you said: you’ve always been mine,”

The first press of his length into your core stung. As wet as you were, as prepared as you were for him, it had been so long. He stretched your walls little by little, taking his time as your body adjusted to him. Then, inch by inch, he sunk within your walls that clung to him tightly.

His cock bottomed out, sunk fully within you, bare hips pressed to bare hips as you both let out shaky breaths. Your nails dug into the hair at the nape of his neck while his hands trailed up your ribcage, squeezing every moment or so as choked out moans fell from his lips.

“God–so tight for me, baby–you feel like heaven,”

His name was the only thing you could manage to choke out between your moans as he dragged himself back to the tip, before burying himself again to the hilt. Your moans, your cries and the way your hands threaded into his hair only spurred him on more, Johnny’s hips snapping into yours again and again and again.

His lips found yours amidst every snap of his hips, every drag of his cock against your walls. Every moan that slipped through your lips was drowned out by him, by the feverish movements of his lips against yours. They trailed away, back to your neck, leaving a trail of saliva connecting you together as he bit another love bite into the side of your neck. It didn’t matter to you how this would look to others, how scandalous you might look in the light of day to others.

All that mattered was Johnny Storm.

“Oh god, Johnny!” your head fell to his shoulder, teeth sinking into his skin as his hips snapped against yours over and over, driving him deeper with every thrust into you. “Holy fuck, w-why weren’t we doing this for years?”

“Because you’ve been a stubborn–fuck–little tease all these years,” his tongue dragged up the column of your throat, peppering kissing up and down your skin as his cock dragged against your walls. “Bent over your workstation in the lab–oh god–you don’t know how many times I’ve thought about it. Thought about walking in and taking you right there, making a mess right at your desk.”

“R-Reed would walk in and you’d scar him for life,”

“Sounds like a win-win to me,” there was shared laughter, punctuated with a shared moan as his cock dragged right against that spot nestled within you. “And try not to talk about my brother-in-law when I’m fucking you.”

There was no time to reply as Johnny scooped up your wrists in his hand in a single motion, pinning them down above your head. He adjusted your waist, suddenly driving into you at a new angle that had you mewling his name all over again.

Johnny whispered your name into your skin with every kiss, timed just so with every snap of his hips against yours. That coil of heat was burning, wounding itself tighter and tighter for the second time that night. All you could feel was him, was Johnny.

His warmth, the heat that burned off of him. It warmed your skin, it had beads of sweat dripping down your forehead. It was uncomfortable in the best way. His one hand still trailed up and down your ribcage, every so often tweaking your sensitive nipple between his thumb and index finger and coaxing another moan of pleasure from you.

He worshiped you, every inch of you, like you were the greatest thing to ever grace the earth. To him, you might have been

“Fucking perfect, baby. Fucking made for me,” his lips found yours again, slick with spit as his tongue dipped into your mouth to taste every inch of you possible.

His stroke faltered, the rhythm uneven, and you knew he was close. That coil of heat in your stomach was threatening to snap any second every time his cock pulsed and throbbed within your walls. His grip on your wrists was tight, even as you struggled against him, desperate to just hold him.

“Johnny–baby–please I-I’m so close-”

You choked on your words once more, the hand still trailing across your stomach heating up again, leaving a burning trail of heat in your skin. Those heated fingers found your clit like it was second nature, a cry of pure pleasure leaving your lips as they circle that bundle of a thousand nerves over and over again, hips still snapping into you as quickly and desperately as they can.

“Let go,” his voice was husky, eyes blown wide as he looked down at you. Your wrists were finally let go, your hands immediately finding their place in the strands of his hair again as his free hand cups the back of your neck, smashing your lips into his in a flurry of moans. “Let go, baby, let go.”

Your second climax burned hotter than the first.

The pleasure burned so hot, so bright, you were practically sobbing, every cry and moan of pure bliss muffled by his kiss. Your legs locked around Johnny’s waist–tightly–so tight he could barely move away from you. It was overwhelming, the shockwaves of bliss that ran through your veins, the shaking of your thighs as you held onto his hair like it’s a lifeline.

He ground himself into you over and over, rhythm so far gone he was struggling. But all it took was your lips lazily finding his neck, teeth sinking in to leave your matching mark to his, for his hips to still as he spilt into you.

Johnny breathed out every moan into the side of your head, your name tumbling from his lips along with a flurry of swears. The grip he had on your hip was bruising, so tight you think he could snap the damn bone if he held any tighter. And his cock? Seated so deeply inside of you it’s as if you are one, heat pooled within your lower abdomen with every wave of cum that filled you to the brim.

On the other side of the room, the record was still playing softly. Bright lights still flashed by the windows every so often, crews still at work on the spaceship set for launch by mid-morning.

None of it mattered in the silence of the bed.

You aren’t sure how long either of you laid there. Your heartbeat, eventually, returned to normal, even as your chest still heaved to take in every breath that it could. Johnny still laid half on top of you, pressing repeated kisses to the side of your head, but said nothing. Your hand stayed in his hair, carding through it, as your core pulsed. It would ache come morning–hell, it already did–but it was worth it. It was so worth it.

Neither of you were quite sure when he pulled out of you, or how long you simply laid there and basked in the afterglow of a moment that should’ve happened years ago.

Eventually, Johnny shifted down. His lips trailed down your body in worship, like they’d done already that night. From your cheek, to your neck, your collarbone, the swell of your breasts, and down your lower abdomen.

“Careful…not sure I’d survive a round three,” your voice was hoarse, mouth dry. Johnny laughed against your skin, still kissing every inch he could see.

“I don’t think I would, either,”

His hands were heated once more, but not for the same purpose as moments before. Now, his touch was gentle, massaging every piece of you that he could get his hands on. His thumbs rubbed into your wrists, your waist, and your hips, digging into the muscles. A sigh escaped you at the comforting feeling, taut muscles loosening at the feeling of the heat and the movement of his hands.

With every kiss pressed to your skin, you could feel it: Johnny was humming. It didn’t take long to know which song he was humming, which lyrics: that same song once again.

I guess I'll never know the reason why, you love me as you do. That's the wonder, the wonder of you.

“Is that our song now?” you laughed, even if your heart was clenching at the mere thought. The mere idea of that song belonging to the two of you–the idea that Johnny Storm belonged to you.

You could feel his smile against your abdomen as he spoke. “It should be. It’s accurate. Because I don’t ever think I’ll get over the miracle that is you…loving me.”

It’s not a miracle. What you really want to tell him is that falling in love with him was so easy, you barely realized you had done it. It might be the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

Johnny crawled back up your body, slotting himself onto the bed beside you, before tugging you in. There’s no hesitation on your part, simply curling into his side with your head over his chest and arm slung around his waist. Words aren’t needed in the silence, not when you’ve both clearly laid everything out on the table now. Instead, you just listened to the beat of his heart, the natural rhythm that lulls you into a state of peacefulness.

He’s yours. Johnny Storm is yours. He’s always been yours, you just didn’t know it.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, hand cradling the back of your head as he said his next words confidently.

“We’re going to go up there tomorrow, and we’re going to stop this guy. We’re going to protect this Earth, like we’ve sworn to do. But me? I’m going to do it so I can come home to you, and love you for the rest of my life. I promise,”

He can’t promise that, you knew he couldn’t. There was no telling what might happen when that ship took off tomorrow, what they might encounter, or who this Galactus really was.

But Johnny Storm loved you. For now, in the quiet of the night, just between the two of you, that’s enough.

[bodhiscurls]

mine next, please. ( johnny storm )

it starts when johnny sees you hold his nephew for the first time and all he can think about is how incredible life could be if you were holding his.

human torch! johnny storm x fem! reader

themes: fluff, fluff, fluff, talks of having children and marriage, obsessed johnny- if you would like a follow up, then find girl dad! johnny here!

masterlist.

"well fuck me," johnny breathes as he blatantly stares across the room.

"hard pass," ben immediately replies, shovelling a forkful of steak into his mouth. he groans in delight at the taste, sending compliments to the cook mentally- himself, duh.

"yeah, hard because you're a fucking rock, pal," and at the insult, reed immediately shoots his brother in law a look of disapproval, not that johnny even bothers to notice. how could he, because across the room at approximately fifteen feet away stands you.

"well you're clearly not fucking this rock, pal," ben slides back, but johnny doesn't even have it in him to hit him right back because again, your entire existence has him haulted.

and you're fucking starstruck stunning as it is, that's not an unusual sight for johnny to stare at you, mouth open gaping at the woman who makes him feel as invincible as when he's flaming pure fire at impossible altitudes. but when there's a baby- his sister's beautiful baby boy, attached at your hip, boy johnny storm is a goner.

the baby gurgles and the noise must alarm you because he watches as your brows narrow dangerously low and close in concentration and you gently pat the infant's back, cooing words of adoration in their ear at a high pitch that sends johnny flying right back into outer space.

he sees you, a home forever, a little army of kids that share your kind eyes and johnny's blonde hair, maybe a fusion if your smiles- though he hopes they mainly take after you. he sees sunday mornings in bed, playdates with his little girls with matching tiaras and teacups, he sees movie night with four instead of two, he sees the whole damn world where you stand at the very centre of it.

"you're such a natural, look reed," sue calls her husband over with excitement. reed abandons his male counterparts and comes to her side immediately, as she leans into his hold and sighs out in relief, "she's a baby whisperer," sue whispers in awe, slight fear of ruining her child's rare moment of peace lingering in the air. the world spins lightly but johnny is still heaven struck in his spot opposite you.

"literally an angel, heaven sent above," reed commends and you flush under their praise. being liked by johnny's family was something you took so seriously and you took pride in the efforts its taken for you to feel like one of them. "you know, if you ever want to watch him, please do," reed asks slyly and sue elbows him in return, shooting you a look of apology then leaning in close and murmuring.

"no seriously, please do. lord knows i haven't had some time to even sleep lately," she rubs at her temples and you smile in understanding.

"if you guys ever need help, i'm here," you offer, "honestly, whenever, such a cute little guy, how could anyone ever say no?" you gush, tickling his nose and your lover arrives at your side in an instant.

"you better be talking about me," he scoffs but abandons his persona once he sets eyes on his nephew, coo'ing and booping his nose gently. he comes from behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle, mindful of the baby at your side and rests his head on your opposite shoulder.

"johnny boy has competition," ben teases and johnny flips him off away from the baby's line of view.

there's an overlap of johnny's confident "please, you think i can't take him?" and your high pitched baby voice tickling their soft skin with a "there's no competition, this little fella takes it all, don't you? aw" and johnny pulls back in feign outrage, gasping at your so obvious favouritism.

"what?" you smile at him and its enough to heat his blood and melt him to liquid jelly, he's momentarily stunned by your beauty that you bite back the growing laughter, "johnny?" and you wave your free hand in his face.

"mine next please," is all he mumbles, it's half coherent through his drooling mouth and fixed intensity on you that when you hand susan back her child and turn to your boyfriend you place your hands on his heart; searching for his soft thuddering chest and bringing him back to planet earth.

"what?" you stutter, and he has the gall to look confused.

"what?" he echoes.

"what do you mean what?" you press urgently, sure of what you're heard but maybe it's the delusion talking. it very much well could be-

"what do you mean what?"

"oh my god, john- do you know what you just said?" your heart pounds in your chest. each vessel begs for attention, for blood flow to your muscles, pumping all around you and it roars in your ears. you've talked about marriage, you've just about moved in together but kids? kids is a whole different ballpark.

"i want your children- or ours? they'd be ours right?" he asks and you let out a low breath.

"yes johnny, my love but," you pause, bringing your hands to his shoulders and grounding him. "children are little humans, they're not toys-"

"i'm not stupid," he rolls his eyes, "i know you'd look hot pregnant babe, and pregnant with my kid?" he exclaims excitedly and you stare at him. "honey, at some point we are going to have some right?" he meets your patient gaze, as your thoughts try to catch up and align with what you're hearing.

"you've never asked me!" you almost shout.

"i thought it was a given!" he returns, "do you not want my kids-"

"of course i do!" the words leave you quickly with a strong confidence to them, "you just don't mean right now right?" you double check. he sticks his tongue in his cheek in thought, tapping his feet to the ground and hums. its torturous and he does it just to rile you up as you wait patiently. he leans in close, lips brushing the shell of your ear and you close your eyes, soaking in the nearness of him

"i mean if you want to leave early, go home, we could start putting in the work today," its a dangerous tease and when you start to think about it, he knows he has you trapped. you bite your lip and he watches how it drags between your teeth in slow motion and a glint of mischief shines in those beautiful blue eyes of his. he presses a soft touch of a kiss in the corner where your jaw meets your ear, then one lower and catches the bottom of your lobe between his teeth.

"johnny," you mumble, "your family are here," you warn.

"so we leave," he shrugs, "we make one of our own," and the words slip so easily from his lips.

"we're doing things in the wrong order," you break apart and face him. he scoffs,

"fuck the order- i'll marry you and make love to you tonight- two for the price of one," he nods determined and a laughter so loud and bright as the universe bubbles out of you and johnny's world slows to a stop.

"i'm serious sweetheart," he presses your forehead to yours, "i'm all fucking in, and we only do this if you want it," he swears.

"i do want this, but maybe not a child tonight johnny," you admit, "one day, just not today," and he hums in agreement.

"as long as i still get laid tonight," he grins cheekily and its your turn to elbow your lover. he grabs your elbow immediately, lifts you from the ground and twirls you around before wrapping you in a hug where he rests his head in the space above your shoulder- a perfect fit.

"they're good for each other," sue stares fondly at her brother and you, estatic that he's been able to find someone who grounds him, drives him insane and keeps him happy. it's all she's ever wanted; she found her reed and johnny had found you. reed kisses his wife's cheek and murmurs in agreement, family really is what you make it.

riya saying hi: ugh domesticated johnny storm sign me tf UP ‼️‼️‼️ working on a longer fic which i hopefully might get out in the next few days but other than that, i hope you like, hope you love ( i have still not seen the movie yet LOL but i am obsessed w joseph quinn so i feel like that makes up for it ) love u, have a great one wherever this finds you <3

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! 💘

[feelingdozy]

WE EQUATE TO LOVERS - Johnny Storm

Pairing: Johnny Storm x Shy!Reader

Summary: hired as Reed's assistant to help him in the lab, you're not a people person. And you're definitely not a Johnny person. Yet, when he starts coming by constantly, you can't help but ask yourself if he's just being nice, or if what you're starting to feel is real.

Warnings: f4 spoilers, post movie, emotional mild hurt/fluff, extrovert x introvert, friends to lovers, shy tendencies, overthinking, anxiety, self doubt/depreciation, johnny being down bad, heavy makeout sesh, eventual confessions, eventual romance

req: Can I req an extrovert x introvert trope (the reader being the introvert and Johnny being the extrovert)... read full

w/c: 3,2k ･ a03 ･ prompt list ･

"Yes she's my assistant, but she's not up for unnecessary chat, do you have that clear?" He wagged a finger aggressively for Johnny as he sighed dramatically with a hint of defeat though even he knew he wouldn't back down if he got the chance to bother his in-law.

"Hey man, I don't flirt with every single woman I come across. Just the interesting ones-"

"Well you don't flirt with this one at all, because she won't want to talk to you in the first place" he sighs, turning on his heel to approach his lab again, papers in hand that also have your application of a brand new assistant.

Ever since the whole incident with Galactus had happened, Sue had encouraged (begged) Reed to find some way to take a break and get more time with Franklin than with saving the world.

So he landed on the smart idea of an assistant. He found one almost immediately when his eyes landed on your resume full of courses you'd taken, classes completed and the sciences being a full time job of exploration for you.

He knew with one scan that this wasn't just a career. It was everything to you, just like they were to him. You were a special one- and he wasn't gonna give that up because Johnny couldn't keep his words, and hands, to himself.

When you first walked into the Baxter building, it was safe to say your jaw had dropped in amazement at the size. It was almost overwhelming to see it in person.

Getting lucky enough to finally get a good solid job off your resume you worked years to polish with a renowned scientist teaching you and getting to see his projects?

You'd think you might finally be seeing the light.

This was your holy grail- beep beep

A- a robot..? You were taking in the view you didn't realize the little robot that had come up to you, waving with his tiny hand and gesturing for you to follow. You were in for a ride.

When you got to the door, Reed had shook your hand as you managed to contain your excitement to a smile and not shaky hands (it was almost impossible), and he had given you a tour of the whole place, up and down. The living quarters where your room would be next to Mr Storms, the kitchen you could get food at any time, the multiple bathrooms scattered around which him and Sue had built early on.

Just as you were almost done the tour, grazing through some of his projects and skimming through the detailed formulas, you heard footsteps approaching and the air get extremely humid very quickly.

"Reed! You finally brought her-"

When you turned around, he couldn't help but shut himself up when he saw you.

It was like a.. twinkle in his eye. Like he knew, the first time seeing you that you were it for him. He was already falling.

Like that singular strand of hair over your face. The way you wouldn't admit it, but your cheeks lit when you saw just how stunning he was in person. How your eyes longed and sucked him in immediately.

You stood, eyes wide in shock, nervous, definitely nervous to be near the Johnny Storm.

Boisterous, loud, womanizer and non-stop talker that he was. It scared you, but you couldn't deny the charming looks and the confidence oozing out of him like second skin- well, until he met eyes with you.

Oh.. maybe he didn't like you? Maybe women who weren't his type just got in the way.

Little did you know, his heart was skipping beats like no tomorrow. His flames grew hotter, and somehow he was flushed to the tips of his ears like a schoolboy witnessing his first crush again.

He smelt burning. Was his hair burning?

"Johnny.. meet my new assistant" Reed attempted to break the ice, ending up with you sporting a very awkward smile, and Johnny giving one back.

You had already messed this up haven't you, god-

"You're- pretty, very, I mean, haha! Pretty! Woman- you are. Jesus" he left the room in a rush, brushing the hair out of his face in a flurry to stop the sweat beading down his neck.

Stuttering? When had this man stuttered in his life over a woman? Let alone Reed's new assistant! First he was going to get pummeled by him, then Sue, maybe Franklin next. And then you.. with that look and that shy demeanour that made your shoulders shrink.

He wanted to see it again.

The next few days were spent solely in Reed's lab. You refused to exit unless you desperately needed something that science couldn't provide you.

Breakfast was short and easy. Lunch was a sandwich made hastily with crooked meat thrown on and cheese that wasn't the right one, but you hadn't time to change it anyways.

Dinner.. well. Dinner was spent with the rest of them, and somehow, a constant locking of eyes with the blonde that sat across the table.

Sue would ask the questions, but Reed would always answer because you chose to stay quiet and everyone knew that Reed didn't just interrupt for anyone.

You spoke up when she asked how your day was, Ben poking a threat at you that you better like his food with a small laugh. But Johnny never took initiative to spark a conversation.

Not until he found you stored up in the lab.

"So this is what you've been up to, sugar?" His voice was loud and very recognizable, echoed off of each glass vile stored in there with the utmost precision and perfection.

You stopped in your tracks and turned to find him there, smile wide and a hand holding his chin while he leaned on a desk nearby.

You only nodded, turning back to distract yourself.

"I just uh- wanted to say sorry for the sudden compliments.. probably overwhelming to you and I realize that now, just.. wanted to start off a little simpler."

You poured one test tube into the other before he came up on the other side, eyes focused on the concoction you were making up.

"this for one of your experiments? Or for the lab grump?" You huffed out a tiny laugh at that, making his eyes sparkle at the sound, giddy that he'd been able to cheer you up a bit.

"It's for Reed- he's been working on stabilizing the teleportation so it doesn't take up as much energy as it has before" He nodded along, acting like he was listening and not just staring at your lips.

You added, "But the test tubes? Those are mine." he observed the way your fingers poured one into the next, took a pencil and wrote things down.

"What does the Johnny Storm have bursting into the lab at this time?" You almost shied away from asking, but you were genuinely curious as to the time this man had in his schedule to be talking to you.

"I- uh.. hah, honestly- just wanted to see you again." He tried to shrug it off casually, but he had to keep his hands away from the countertops in case something else of his decided to light itself again. He didn't want explosions other than the hair on top of his head.

You attempted to hide a smile at his confession, since when has this happened to you? You almost didn't want to believe him, gaze settling anywhere but his dead on.

"Now, if I let you hold this, do not heat it up, alright?" He stood straight and nodded eagerly

"Got it!" With a playful salute.

Every since that day in the lab, he had almost clung to you like a puppy. You wanted a snack from the kitchen?

You were already there, putting together one of your weird uneven sandwiches, until he scooped in behind you and took it, "Here, let me show you how it's done" with a wink.

It only took him about a minute, crafting and bantering with you while he did so, fist-pumping Herbie for handing him the right cheese.

It was a pretty good sandwich.

Movie nights with the team usually happened on weekends, Franklin tucked and soundly asleep. Usually, Johnny would've made do and sat by Ben. But tonight, he was curled up weirdly close to your side.

"D'you want some popcorn, sugar?" He'd whisper, just raspy enough by your ear for you to catch it and reach in, hand grazing his own. For the first time you had ever been near him that close physically, he was warm.

Almost welcoming, and soft for a man who lit on fire. It set something inside you alight too. A knowing. Creeping in, deep in the pit of your stomach you were losing the battle to time and patience of liking him.

"Chocolate?" He asked as he reached a hand out, offering you a piece of his own.

This- this was your favorite chocolate?

And he knew that. You'd mentioned it a few days ago off handedly to Reed when nagging him about how he'd sneak a piece when no one but you was looking and announced your favorite. He'd never admit it, but he listened more than you thought.

You took up his offer again, and your touch lightly meshed with his fingertips when he passed it over. You froze in your seat at the images popping up in your head.

You wanted to put your head on his shoulder- but you'd resist it.

You'd act casual, stay calm, try to keep your vitals down and act normal.

And still, the two of you got closer. Off time spent travelling to bakeries on breaks while you got a whiff of fresh air and sunlight, drinking in his boyish laugh and gentlemanly tendencies when he'd open a door and say, "m'lady" with a bow.

Until a harsh realization began to sink.

It had been going good until an interview you had passed by on the living room television, Johnny standing tall, stance playful and grin wide to appease the shrieking girls that lined the back of the camera, streets full and compact as his hands rested on both hips.

"So, Johnny, what can you tell us as of lately on your love life? As single as ever?" The journalist held the mic close, and you could see the twitch in his eye before he went back to his charming smirk as they shrieked again, shaking his head as he looked down like he was reigning defeat.

"Now, now. You know I don't answer these questions on the air. These poor girls- what are you trying to do?" He laughed, bold and gave her his classic wink and ooze of charm before flaming up and flying away

The angle they showed gave you a quick span at all the girls that had lined up, magazines, mini storms and posters that had him plastered like their favorite little collectible.

Their hair was done up.. makeup flawless and bases shiny. Their dresses were rich of color that spoke of knowing how to come off nicely, heels, jewelry, the whole collection.

And who were you?

A little scientist Reed had scouted to do your science project along with his.

Not some model type girl. Not the flawlessly pretty, easily confident and flowy ones that crowded and observed his every move? How would you even admit you were falling for him in a sea of all the others?

You wouldn't.

No, you couldn't. He liked space, and he liked women, but..

Not the type who would spend all day in the lab, dark circles and hair barely brushed, eager to get back to the workspace. Not the ones that analyzed deliberately, for enjoyment and for success that had you on the tips of your toes.

The fashion ones maybe. He'd like a girl who baked him cookies and tucked him into bed-

So you ignored him.

Avoided, moreso.

And it got harder each time. More noticable.

The dinner table became harder to sit at when he tried to make conversation and you just spaced out, faraway smiles and hollower laughs. Reed almost let himself give way to asking about it- but Sue's hand on his thigh made him do a take back and realize what he was going to say was wrong in the moment.

She mouthed small affirmations to ease his nerves a bit.

In the bathroom where once he might've snuck in to spare a glance at your tied up messy hair, over the shoulder shirt while you brushed your teeth and splattered words out over the toothpaste with a slap of his chest at his stupid dad jokes and weird humor.

Now, it was already dark and scented by the time he'd gotten there. He could still sense your presence in there. Shampoo faintly lingering, clean, somewhat soft and warm familiarity that stuck to your clothing after a wash.

He missed it all- but most, the little talks you squeezed in with him while in the lab. Things may have exploded once or twice, a third from a heated hand reaction to a very sensitive mix.

Now, he started to get anxious when he entered. Almost nauseous, a sense of not wanting to mess it up with you when he finally found you. But before he could enter, Sue interrupted his thoughts in the hallway.

"Johnny?" Sue called out, softly as she rubbed a hand down his back.

She asked it like she'd always known, "What's on your mind?"

"I-" he hesitated with a huff, knowing she'd see through it if he lied anyways.

"Her. She- she started avoiding me and I.. I dunno what I did. I thought we were going good?"

*So it just happened one day? Like a switch?"

"Yeah! And I.. I didn't want to let that personality get in the way- cameras and journalists. We had our talks, personal and I liked them. I actually.. looked forward to them and now- now something's missing." Sweeping his hair back with his hand, he rubbed his eyes with a tiredness that spoke of confusion and prolonged agony.

Sue nodded along, as she knew just how all the fans could get and how he came off, although deep down he was very sensitive- genuine and soft, through and through Johnny was a family man.

But that wasn't obvious to everyone. She knew that. Knew the opinions, the views, the big posters and what they showed.

And Sue had started to know you. She saw the ponder. She saw the border of overthinking cross it's line. You were like a tiny reflection of her husband in the way his mind always got the best of him before someone could show him the way back.

"Not to bring it up, but, I heard the news going a couple days ago- I forgot to turn it off because I went to check on Franklin, but when I came out, she was there listening. Almost starstruck while staring at it."

The realization started to kick in when he glared behind him to see you staring back, hastily turning away from his line of sight and tensing like you'd stumbled across something you shouldn't have.

"Oh. Oh."

"Crowds of ladies don't mix with a little scientist and a brain that's built with doubt. She might just be.. scared." Baby monitor in her hand, Franklin started to whine.

"Scared?" It came out desperate, like he just needed to grasp whatever he was missing. That one puzzle piece to put it all back together like it was.

"Of what is truly there between you two. Not the fans. Not the articles. You, and her."

That night, Johnny had come up with the best stealth mission of finding where you'd hidden yourself this time around.

He knew it wasn't your bedroom, too early. He could've knocked.

Not the kitchen nor living room, too obvious, spoke too loud and petty. Left nothing to the imagination.

You'd never think of the bathroom, too stuffy and easily caught.

Until he thought of the balcony.

"I like the stars" he announced, making your knuckles grip the rails a little tighter when you realized he had finally caught you.

"They make me feel like I've got someone sometimes. I can talk to them." As he got closer, his voice got quieter. More.. peaceful, though you stayed silent.

"And.. I want to be that someone."

You looked at him.

"I know...I know that's not your thing. It might be too far. But I don't want you to shy away from me. Not the things we shared. Behind the looks and tiny smiles, you spoke out to me."

He continued, passionate and earnest

"No matter what those interviews say- what you think of those girls and their collections-"

"Wouldn't you be better off with someone like them?" You interrupted, trying not to come off as mean, but biting your lip to hold back tears wasn't helping the tone and the way it happened to slip out.

He stayed quiet for a second too long, wide eyes and mouth slightly ajar.

"fluffy hair, dressed in their cute sundresses and bowties. They're nice. Heels and all. The better choice. Easier." You said it like it was fact- like you were already certain he'd chosen them.

"I don't want easier. I don't want flawless and perfect- I want those morning's with your laugh that makes Reed choke on his food because he never expects it. The one that makes Ben smile though he doesn't admit it, and how you'll insult his cooking just to see him pout funny,"

"they're not the better choice- no, you're the only choice. Do you think they clean my vinyls when I don't notice? Make me special hand protectors and Franklin fireproof baby shirts? Not those girls. You do"

You almost couldn't believe it, though his eyes were glassy and his hands desperate to grab onto you again. To find you in your mind that swam one hundred miles per hour.

"It's always been you." He whispered, strained and raw.

Still a little unsure, you gripped the fabric of his collar, pulling him in closer to you.

"Then.. then show me, Johnny. How much I mean to you" And with that, your lips collided.

It wasn't hungry, or quick. It was slow. It was like the both of you had broken down the barriers and everything failed to come out before was spilling in hidden feelings and covered confessions in the way gentleness carved itself into the mold of your lips.

His fingers held your jaw, crawling up behind your neck to deepen the kiss and find his tongue exploring your mouth with unexpected fervor. He cradled you closer, not wanting to part, last forever with you intertwining with him in shared saliva and swollen lips at the gesture.

You gasped into it, knuckles tightening onto the hem of his shirt for dear life, dissolving into the way he slotted against you so perfectly and took you into his arms like he'd needed it to survive- and maybe, just maybe he did.

Before pulling away completely, he pressed a peck to your lips again, then below your jaw, up to your ear. You giggled at the sensation, and he laughed back, delighted to finally have the moment with you.

He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes finally connected and noses bumping. "I'm never letting you go, you know that?"

"even if Reed says so?" He smiled widely at that. And with a firm nod of his head,

"Even then."

thank you for reading :) requests are open! || Marvel Masterlist

[eds6ngel]

duty calls 𖹭.ᐟ

johnny storm x fem!reader

summary: when you wake up alongside franklin on yours and johnny's night with him, the sight of the two of you in the kitchen stirs something within johnny.

warnings: FLUFF! food mentions. established relationship. that's it! [0.6k].

a/n: i still haven't seen this movie (*cries in poor*) so i'm going based off of what i've heard, released clips and my general knowledge of johnny. i apologise if this isn't the most accurate thing in the world <3

It was yours and Johnny’s turn for overnight babysitting duties.

Reed and Sue had been on a date night the evening before, the two of you taking on the responsibility of looking after the bubbly six-month old.

You could hear Franklin fussing around 6AM, and to be honest, you were also pretty hungry yourself. You quickly left him be for a moment, shuffling into the bathroom to brush your teeth and give your face a splash of water. You were taking care of a baby after all, it’s not like you could do the entire skincare routine this morning.

When you returned, Johnny was still sprawled out across the bed, his arm laying across your pillow where it was resting above your head. Thankfully, little Frankie’s stirs had not woke him up.

You carefully lifted the small boy from his crib, whispering “Hey, baby. You want some food? Auntie wants some food too. Come on.”

After feeding him his warm bottle, it was time for you to make some food for yourself. Johnny still wasn’t awake, and you were glad. Since you had woken up many times that night, either Franklin was in a very peaceful slumber, or Johnny fed him a few times, you assuming the latter.

However, not long after you started cooking, Johnny stumbled into the kitchen slowly, rubbing his eyes from the tiredness overtaking his body. But, the sight in front of him soon woke him up.

You had Franklin on your hip, a metal pan on the stove as the egg mixture was solidifying into a beautiful omelette. You were bouncing side to side, small giggles coming from Franklin’s lips as you sang “We are making eggs! We are making eggs! Do you want an egg? Oh no! You can’t have an egg!”

You had tried to feed Franklin a small piece of spinach since that was the one solid he had began eating, but today was not that day. Instead, he scrunched it in his small hand and smashed it into your cheek.

You gasped, “What are you doing? What are you doing?!” before tickling his belly, the giggles turning into complete laughs.

Johnny was just in awe at the situation in front of him. It was like he was getting visions, and it was no longer Franklin on your hip, but a baby Storm instead. Johnny always considered himself limited to the ‘fun uncle’ type, not really confident in becoming a dad. But, seeing you like that? Baby on your hip, making breakfast in your pyjamas at seven in the morning, the kid laughing away? Maybe that was a life he wanted now more than ever.

It was at that moment you turned around and held your heart a little, “Jesus, baby, you scared me.”

“Sorry, I just—” Johnny stuttered, a very unusual thing for him, “It’s a sight to see, let’s just say that.”

Franklin was already kicking his feet and flailing his arms at the sight of his uncle. “And you like the sight of me!” Johnny exclaims, gracefully taking Franklin from your arms so you could use them both to tackle breakfast.

And what you thought had already been dropped on the floor was still scrunched in his hand, as Franklin now squished some spinach into Johnny’s cheek too. “Hey! Attacking me as well now, are you? Are you?!” Johnny teases, Franklin laughing again as Johnny blows a raspberry into his stomach.

And now, only a few minutes later, you were showing the same expression Johnny was just before. You had the same thoughts as him. You didn’t think you were fit to be a mother either, considering the life you lived, but seeing Johnny like that? Maybe you wanted this life yourself.

Maybe you both wanted this.

links: masterlist | taglist | wattpad do not repost to other platforms or feed my work to ai !

[malfoys-demigod]

Big Eyes, Little Lies

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ JOHNNY STORM X READER

summary: Johnny picks up his nephew Franklin from school just once. That’s all it takes. Now he’s suddenly volunteering to pick him up every day. Sue knows something’s up — but Johnny’s not talking. Not until he's got a plan. Warnings: None, just sweet chaos and mutual pining.

a/n: requested by @totaldystopiannerd !! thank you for your request!

this is the prequel to Big Eyes, Little Rings

It started with one favor.

Sue had a meeting downtown. Reed was in his lab, locked in some dimensional whatever. Ben was on asteroid duty. That left Johnny.

“Pick up Franklin at 3. Don’t be late.”“Yeah, yeah, sis, I got it.”

He hadn’t expected anything life-changing. He parked the car (slightly crooked), adjusted his sunglasses, and strode across the parking lot like someone being filmed in slow motion — until he tripped on a sprinkler head.

Kids were spilling out of the classroom, tiny backpacks bouncing, and that’s when he saw her.

You.

Standing by the door in a sunflower-yellow cardigan, kneeling to tie some little girl’s shoe, speaking softly. There was something familiar about the softness of you — like the end of summer, or the first hot cocoa of the year.

Your eyes — God, your eyes — went wide and warm when you looked up and said, “You must be Franklin’s uncle.”

Johnny blinked. Twice. Maybe three times.

“I — Yeah. Yep. That’s me. Flame... Johnny. Just Johnny. I’m Johnny.”

Smooth.

You giggled. Actually giggled. Like a Disney character or someone who made their own granola.

Franklin ran into his legs, breaking the moment. “Uncle Johnny! Can we get donuts?”

“Kid, you can have whatever you want.”

You smiled and handed Johnny a paper folder. “He’s been very curious this week — lots of questions about space. I think someone’s been bragging about his uncle.”

Johnny glanced at you, then the folder, then back at you.

You had those ridiculous, round eyes and this calm, sparkly way of speaking. Like nothing bad ever happened in your world. He didn’t even try to be charming. He just stared at you like a man who had seen the sun for the first time.

When Sue called him that night, she sounded suspicious.

“You picked him up today?”“Sure did.”“...You offered to do it again tomorrow?”“I’m a giver, Sue. A saint.”

By the third pickup, you were expecting him. You greeted Franklin first, always, with the kind of gentle authority that made Johnny consider asking you to organize his schedule.

Then you looked at him, smiled like he was already part of your day, and said something like, “Hi, Johnny,” like it meant something.

Which was insane. Because you didn’t even know him.

Except… maybe you did. You didn’t fawn over him like fans did. You weren’t impressed by his hero status. You just talked to him. About Franklin. About your class. One time you said he had “mischief in his smile,” and he barely survived the moment.

Johnny Storm — chaos incarnate — was melting over a kindergarten teacher.

By week two, he started dressing nicer.

By week three, he learned what time the class went to recess, just so he could “accidentally” show up early.

He brought snacks.

He helped stack tiny chairs.

He took a “volunteer” flyer from the bulletin board and asked you how many hours counted as “a few.”

He told Sue nothing. She was watching him like a hawk.

It wasn’t just the big, soft eyes. (Though God, those eyes…) It was the way you leaned in when kids whispered, like their thoughts were treasures. It was how you made every day sound magical. Like watching the world through glitter and hope.

It made Johnny — a man who flew into battle and called it Tuesday — want to slow down.

Want to stay.

One Thursday, Franklin forgot his lunch, and Johnny offered to drop it off.

“Class is in story time,” you whispered, when you met him outside the door.

Inside, a sea of little heads sat crisscross on the rug while you held an open book.

“Would you like to read the next page?” you asked, voice mischievous.

Johnny froze. “Me? Oh — uh. I don’t really—”

But then you smiled and held out the book. The kids squealed. One asked if Johnny could make fire from his hands.

He read the page. You sat beside him, calm and radiant, like this was exactly what should happen. He smelled your vanilla perfume and forgot the plot halfway through.

After, as you walked him to the door, you said softly, “You’re good with them.”

Johnny snorted. “I barely survived that page.”

You shrugged. “Still. You’re gentler than you let on.”

He stared at you again, all stupid, until a kid asked if he was your boyfriend. Johnny nearly combusted.

You just smiled. “Not yet.”

That night, Sue cornered him. “You’re in love with her.” “I am not.” “You picked up Franklin in a collared shirt, Johnny.” “I can wear collars!” “You ironed it.” “I did not— okay, I might have steamed it—” “You brought cupcakes to the staff lounge!” “Okay, now you’re just making things up.” “Franklin said she has ‘princess eyes.’” Johnny blinked. “That’s… actually very accurate.”

Sue smirked. “Ask her out.”

Johnny hesitated. “What if she says no?” “Then she’s got terrible taste and you move on. But… I don’t think she will.”

He showed up on Friday with a coffee just the way you liked it (you once mentioned it, in passing — he remembered).

You took it with a surprised smile, eyes going even wider than usual. “This is… exactly right.”

“Yeah, I pay attention.”

You looked up at him, gentle and glowing. “I know you do.”

That did it.

“I was wondering,” he began, tugging at the hem of his jacket, “if maybe, sometime when you’re not, you know, herding thirty tiny humans, you might want to… get dinner?”

You tilted your head. “Like a date?”

“Yeah. A real one. No crayons involved.”

Your smile lit up your whole face. “I’d love to.”

Later that night, Franklin announced to the room:

“Uncle Johnny kissed Miss Y/N’s hand and then walked into the door.”

Sue just laughed and shook her head. “I told you,” she muttered. “Big eyes. Big trouble.”

[rhaenyraeri]

───✮Playing with Fire✮───

Johnny Storm x fem!New Avenger!Reader

Summary: You’re helping the Fantastic Four create a strategy for a new threat, and your boyfriend Johnny is bored out of his mind. He decides to try and fire you up to heat up the meeting.

Warnings: dom!Johnny, hair pulling, fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap<3), dirty talk, prob lightly ooc Johnny but it’s okay lol

No spoilers for The Fantastic Four First Steps! It takes place during Doomsday (hopefully <3)

The new threat in New York has both your team, The New Avengers, and your boyfriend’s, The Fantastic Four, working together strenuously to plot a strategy to save the city. Everyone’s working hard, putting their ideas together and talking amongst their teams to discuss the best course of action. The New Avengers, (or Thunderbolts, Bob still doesn’t know which exactly to call your group), are at the Watchtower, going over their own plans. As for you? You’re at the Baxter Building relaying your own team’s information with the Fantastic Four, working alongside them to merge both routes together to tweak some small bumps around. It’s all very, very important, and you’re extremely focused and intrigued.

And Johnny couldn’t be more bored.

He’s sat in the chair directly across from where you stood, his eyes not leaving you. You’re standing between Reed and Sue, the squeaking of his marker making Johnny close his eyes in disagreement. It’s so antagonizing just.. knowing each frantic erase meant adding more time to the meeting. You felt heat on your back, sending a shiver through your body. Ben glances at you, opening his mouth to comment on your sudden movement, but shut his mouth. Maybe you just got a chill?

Your eyes flicker up as Reed spoke, looking at Johnny. He’s slouched in the chair, legs spread with his head tilted to the side a little. One elbow is propped up on the armrest, fiddling with a paperclip, and the other arm is laid on his lap lazily. His eyes are locked, glaring as he focused on you. He looked like he commanded the room, he radiated power. Power he used on you.

Reed hums, another idea coming to him, because of course it is. He’s only the smartest man in the universe. “So, if we take this route, we run the risk of getting intercepted from the one way exit. It’s easy and secure until we get there. Anyone have any ideas they would like to add?”

You cleared your throat, preparing to propose another idea, “We could split up. If we get intercepted, at least it wouldn’t be all of us. This way, the others could come around and hit them from behi-,” your voice catches, cutting you off as warmth caresses your inner thigh. Your eyes closed, mouth snapping shut to prevent yourself from moaning in front of the team. “Honey, are you okay? Do you need some water?,” Sue comments, placing a hand on your shoulder. You took a deep breath, before looking to her. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just feeling a little under the weather. Thank you though,” you lie, giving her a grateful look. You felt horrible lying to her, knowing her genuine concern for you, but you couldn’t let anyone, let alone her, know that her brother was teasing you during a very important meeting. She nods, returning the smile before both of you move your eyes back to the map in front of you. You take one more glance up to Johnny, who’s now looking to the ground as he now spun a pen around in his fingers. He’s pretending to be bored by it all, but he’s now heavily intrigued in this meeting as he tries to to get you hot and bothered.

He’s succeeding.

He knows he is.

It’s not like he’s never saw you like this. Just this time, it’s more interesting to see you revel under his touch, as you try to shrug it off.

“I like that idea. The next time they come back, we’ll be ready for them. I appreciate you and your team working with us, you’ve been more than helpful. Now, about sending a few of us through this building— what are your plans to hit them in the dark?,” Reed asks, now switching to a tablet, showing the blueprints to a warehouse. One where you plan for Yelena, Ava, and Walker to take out a group in the dark. Your body has calmed down, your voice now strong again as you point at the tablet.

“If we send Ghost through here, she can hit the transmission and knock the power out. I’ve read up on the building’s power lines. If she does it correctly, we’re looking at the power being rerouted. It would take at least 3 minutes for the generator to start up, and the alarms wouldn’t trigger if we cut the wire to them first. Saying she does this right, it would give Yelena and Walker time to take them out in the dark, significantly lessening the blow on the rest of us. I’ve seen their work before in a similar situation, at an O.X.E facility. They’re perfectly capable for a job like this,” your voice firm, confident in your team as you pitched the idea to him. Reed nods his head, tapping his fingers on the table. Sue and Ben exchange a look of approval, trusting your judgment.

“Are we looking at any guards? Anything possibly unprecedented that we should take into consideration?” You nod at Reed, before zooming into the map. “This building, last year, had some suspicious activity. There were some guards that came and went. Some days there were none, others rotated ever so often. Just last month, I spotted a handful of them going in and out. Their gear was unmarked, but,” you voice falters. Heat ignited between your legs, right at your core, making you grip the table and shut your eyes tight. “Are you okay? It seems like you’re not doing the best,” Ben comments. He’s noticed your moments of weakness during the meeting, but after three times it’s more concerning than he thought. Through clouded eyes from the tears threatening to fill your eyes from the stimulation, you look at him and nod. He stares at you for a moment, before turning around to grab a thermos of water. You looked at Johnny, who’s looking at you blankly, eyes slightly dark, and he mouths:

“Keep. Talking.”

The rest of the team are busy looking through files, giving you time to mouth a reply back.

“Stop. Teasing. Me.”

He smirks, tapping his foot slightly.

“Make me. I dare you.”

You shake your head in frustration. He won’t back down. He’s going to tease you until this hell of a meeting ends. No one noticed how your hands grip the table so tight that it creaks and your knuckles turn white, or how you’d unconsciously made a face of pleasure as you looked down at the map again.

Well, Johnny noticed. And it made him want to make you suffer more.

Your legs pressed together, feeling the warmth from before travel in circles around your center. You looked back at him from the table, noticing the pen from before was now bit between his teeth, as a small flame came from his fingers in your direction, slowly making the motions of rubbing you. He stood up from his chair, placing the pen on the desk beside him, before walking around the table and behind you. He reached around you, hand extending to grab a sheet on the table, as his other slides around your hip and into your pants, going between your legs. His fingers rub slow, painful circles around your clothed pussy as he keeps the façade of reading up. His breath was hot on your neck, kissing the shell of your ear before whispering:

“That’s it, baby. Be good for me. You’re so wet. Interrupt the meeting or have attitude with me again, and I’ll drag you right out of here to remind you how to listen to me.”

A small moan escapes you without warning, and he kisses your neck before harshly cupping your center, then removing his hand from you. He takes the papers he was “looking at” back to his chair, propping himself up again in the same way he was before: one hand preoccupied as the other was free, ready to tease you again at any moment. Your knees buckled, yearning for his touch to come back to you. Everyone else was heavily into looking through files, talking amongst themselves. You could be helping them, but there’s no way you’re in the right mind to do so. Not when you’ve got Johnny Storm, the universe’s hottest man, watching you like your prey as he thrives in your agony. Just as you thought he was done teasing you for now, the heat against your core returned. You’re struggling to keep quiet, knowing you cannot give into this. A smirk formed on his mouth as he watched you writhe oh-so-subtlety, your eyes following each movement his fire-lit fingers made. You’re lucky your knees haven’t given out, and that everyone is still looking through their plans and information. You looked at him again, eyes glaring before you rolled them, pleasure and frustration taking over. Johnny’s flame extinguished, hand moving to take the pen out of his mouth. His smirk falls, and he ‘tsk, tsk, tsk’s at you, shaking his head. Now you’ve gotten more attitude with him, and he told you what he’d do. He placed the paper beside him on the desk, moving to stand up. Then, he stops.

“We’re missing some files, Reed. I’ll have to go through the system and see what I can find,” Sue interrupts the silence, turning around. Ben agrees, with some of the blueprints he’d been going through being too outdated to be a trustworthy piece of data. Reed nods again, before clearing his throat.

“Alright, we’ll call it for now. Everyone, do what you can to find more up-to-date information and layouts. Meet back here tonight around 8,” he declared, his leadership coursing through this voice. He pushed his glasses up, before grabbing the tablet and folder with one hand, and reaching the other out to Sue to guide her to the office. Ben follows suit, taking a thick portfolio with him, heading off to the another part of the Baxter Building. The door shuts, the silence was deafening. The chair creaked as Johnny stood up, making his way over to you. You turn so your back is against the table, though not looking at him.

“You’ve got an attitude today, huh?,” his voice calm, concerningly calm as he stood in front of you. Instead of playing into his words, you let some of your frustration take hold of your actions and you ignore him. You move from the table, walking away from him and towards the door. You don’t hear him coming up behind you, until the door slams shut before you could make it through the frame. You turn to face him, and his body is so close to you that you’re practically pressed against his. He locks the door, sliding the hand up your body and around your neck. He didn’t squeeze, it’s not a tight grip. It’s a reminder of who’s in charge. It’s warm, passionate, controlling.

“I told you to keep that attitude in check, didn’t I?”

He pushed against your neck a little more, the slightest ounce of pressure now tightening your airways.

“You want to go against my orders? You better be ready to take what comes with it, sweetheart.”

Thoughts run in your mind. You could answer him and let him take you now, ending your desire for him after the tantalizing hour-long meeting— or, you could keep being a brat to him to see what really pushes him over the edge. Yeah, that seems like the right one. Your eyes glare at him, “I don’t have to listen to you. It’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands off me. You even have to use your powers against me because you can’t help yourself.”

“Oh, honey, I know how to keep my hands to myself. There you were, so damn interested in your little plan, I just had to make it interesting for me,” his voice low, face dangerously close to yours. So close, you could kiss him with the slightest movement of your head. But you’re not going to. You’ve got more fight in you.

“I tried to ignore you. I told you to quit teasing me.”

“And I told you to behave or else.”

“Yeah. Or else what?”

That was it. That pushed him. His other hand grabbed your wrist, holding it tightly above your head, as the hand around your neck pressed even tighter.

“You really want to find out, princess? Because right now, I really want to bend you over that table and fuck some sense into you.. remind you who you belong to and who you’re gonna listen to. All because you didn’t want to behave today,” he growled, voice darker than you’d ever heard it sound. He let go of the hand holding your wrist, moving it down to your pants to start unbuttoning them. Maybe one more snarky reply wouldn’t hurt.

“It’s not my fault you have no self control.” His hand left your neck and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look straight into his eyes. “I’d be real careful if I were you, sweetheart. You keep it up and I’ll have the entire building know how much of a brat you’re being.” Your eyes stare into his darkened orbs, the look matching his intimidating one. The hold on your jaw tightens, stopping you from sneaking another remark in. “You really want me to stop teasing you? Fine. You asked for it.”

He picks you up over his shoulder, carrying you to the table in the middle of the meeting room. He basically throws you down on the table, face first. Your hands are beside your head, reaching straight out in front of you. He makes quick work of your pants and underwear, pushing them down in one solid move. He glides his hands up your waist, up to your arms to grab you by the wrists. With one hand, he holds them behind your back.

“Think you can listen to me now?”

You shake your head no. His snarls are loud, and you could swear you felt his body temperature raise. The grip holding your wrists together stays steady, but his movements stop. It was silent, too silent. You turned your head to look back at him, before feeling his hand push your head back down. His breathing slowly got louder, matching your racing heartbeat. He’s thinking about something. Then, he huffs.

His palm lands on your bare ass with a loud, sharp crack. It burns, but not the way a normal slap does. He smacked your ass while his hand was ablaze.

“Count,” he demanded, the words falling from his mouth were laced with desire.

The smack burned, the pain of the hit made it worse. You couldn’t really process it, before he spoke again.

“Count,” he ordered again, voice deeper as he felt anticipation charging in his veins.

“One,” you finally muttered out, teeth gritted together.

“Louder. I can’t hear you.”

“One.” You spoke with as much stability as you could muster.

“Good girl,” he praised, rubbing the red print on your ass.

With each strike, his hand warmed more and more, and the pain was almost too much, but not enough that it wasn’t still the hottest punishment you’d ever received. Literally.

By the 6th smack, your voice had fallen to a light whimper. You can almost tell the way he’s looking at you with each hit. There’s no smirk, no smile. Just a focused look on you, mouth open in admiration for how you’re doing as he says, with his teeth gritting after he landed each one.

“Now you’re behaving me, huh?,” he bends over your back, lips close to your ear, “It’s a little too late for that, sweetheart.”

He leans back up, rubbing his warm hand over the prints he’d left on you, light burns and palm shaped welp marks overlapping each other.

“Now, you’re gonna keep listening to me, correct?”

You nod quickly, eager for his next move.

“You’re not going to come until I say you can. Not until you tell me who you belong to. Do you understand?” His voice is strong. Commanding. Controlling.

The sheer power in his voice brought shivers back down your spine. He’d never been this dominant. Sure, there were times, more often than not, that he had control over you in the bedroom. That was just Johnny’s nature. But this? You have yourself to blame for this. Had you just listened, he’d not been this powerful over you. Not to say that’s a bad thing, not at all. Hell, you were enjoying this.

Your breath is shaky, not really having it in you to respond.

“Hmm? Do you?”

You nod you head, but that’s not enough for Johnny.

He lets go of your wrists and at the same time, he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you harshly up to him.

“Say it.”

“J-Johnny..”

Another harsh smack to your ass, hotter than the previous ones.

“Say. It.”

“I’m yours, Johnny. Only yours. I’m yours..” you quickly whimper out, the whiniest and most pathetic your voice has sounded the entire night.

“There it is. Now, you’re gonna take your punishment like a good girl.”

He unzipped his pants, pulling them, alongside his underwear, down to his ankles.

He rubbed his cock a few times before lining it up with your absolutely soaked pussy. As he pushed in, the heat from his body had you clench around him, your exposed core was cold in comparison. He pushed your head back down, grip never faltering on your hair. His other hand holds onto your hips, bracing himself so his thrusts hit as hard and as deep as he could possible get them to go.

“Oh, fuck,” you cried out, each thrust hitting that spot. Your hands reach to grab something to hold onto, one finding some sheets of paper to grip and the other holds one of Johnny’s wrists as they’re holding tight onto your hair. Your moans are more whiny than anything, showing Johnny just how desperate you were for this.

“That’s it, baby. Take it all for me. That’s good,” he praises, disguising his moans with the words. You could barely make what he said out over the sound of your uncontrollable whines of pleasure.

He gripped ever so slightly tighter on your hair, using it as a reign to pull your body into each of his thrusts. Fuck, does he want to make you come now, but he also wants to tease you just a little more.

He pulls out of you, causing you to let out a sad moan, immediately missing the feeling of how he felt.. He tugged on your hair, bringing your weak body to a stand. Letting go, he turned you around to face him, lifting your arms, and removing your shirt before taking his own off. His eyes scan up and down your exposed chest, revealing in the beauty before him. He shook his head, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you to sit in the table.

“Open your mouth.”

You obeyed, your lust-filled eyes driving him insane. He wastes no time, grabbing the hair at the top of your head and fucks his fingers into your mouth. Your eyes start to close, and he yanks your hair to bring your gaze back to his.

“Don’t look away. Keep your eyes on mine.”

It’s hard. You’re already getting exhausted, but you don’t want it to end and neither does he. You’re enjoying your punishment. His fingers go deep into your mouth, just almost enough to make you gag, but he knows your limits. He respects them, even when he’s fucking the shit out of you like he is tonight. There’s the unspoken trust the two of you share. Sure, he may be an asshole, tonight more than usual, but in your relationship he wanted you to trust him. He treated you like a princess, worshipping the ground you walked on, respecting you even in your deepest, most sensual moments like this.

He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, taking his hand down to your pussy. The two fingers slid in perfectly, reaching as far back as he can, curving as much as can, as quick as he can. Your hands hold onto his shoulder, head buried into his neck as he uses you for his own viewing pleasure. “Fuuuck, Johnny, please, let me- ughhhhhh,” you growned. He stopped again.

“I told you, not until I say so. I thought you understood?,” you did. But you couldn’t control it, not when his warm fingers were as deep into your cunt as the were, his breath blowing straight onto your face as he moaned in safisfaction. By now, tears were filling your eyes from the many times you were denied pleasure, denied your desperately needed release.

You wanted to respond, but you just couldn’t form coherent words, stuttering over the same few sounds. The two fingers from your core are brought to his mouth, as he looked you dead in the eyes, licking your slick off of them. Then, you felt a slight smack to your face. Warm, as he uses his powers against you for the seemingly thousandth time tonight.

“Are you going to answer me? Do. You. Understand?,” he questioned you. He knew you did, but he was addicted to the way you were already losing it from the relentless teasing.

“Yes.. Yes, I understand,” you whimpered out.

“Good girl.. That’s what I thought,” his hand moved back down to your throbbing core, rubbing it lightly.

“A little reward for you. Feels good, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

“Mmm-hmm, it.. sure does.. Johnny,” you whisper out, pleasure numbing your responses.

He hums back, kissing your forehead. He was giving you a break, reminding you that despite how harsh he’s been tonight, he still wants you to feel loved. It’s a small gesture, but there’s an understanding between you two. It’s short, sweet, refreshing.

He stops his movements, taking his hand away and moving it to your hip.

“Please, Johnny, I.. I..” you whine, leaning forward to nuzzle your head against his bare chest. He knows exactly what you want, and what you’re trying to say to him.

“You think you deserve it? After mouthing off at me? You need my cock buried inside you? The one belonging to the man you smart-assed?”

“Yes, yes I do. I’m so sorry, Johnny. I’ll be a good girl for you,” you promised. The levels of desire and yearning were taking over you, making you say whatever got you closer to finally getting to come.

He grabbed your shoulders, pushing you off his chest.

“You promise you’ll be good? If you’re not, you’re going to make me ruin you all over again. And you wouldn’t want all that, would you?”

Vigorously shaking your head no, you tilted your head to look at him, using your best puppy-dog eyes.

“There’s not an ounce of fight or attitude left in you, is there? Looks like my job is almost done,” he noted, knowing you’re both more than ready to receive the full extent of your punishment.

“Ruin me, Johnny. Please. I need you,” your voice is small, but he heard you perfectly fine. He taps your legs, signaling them to open farther, running his hands down your body before stopping one at your hips.

“No, sweetheart, you don’t get to need me. You’re going to take what I give you. You got that?”

“Yes, mm-hmm, yes.” You’re not sure how much more desperate you could sound, but you’re more than overdue his touch, and you’re willing to do anything to relieve yourself.

His other hand holds the back of your neck, bracing you as his slams into you in one rough thrust. It’s desperate, it’s aggressive, it’s needy. Just like you.

Your moans are loud, echoing off the walls and right back into your ears. You can barely hear his grunts under the sound of your own cries of pleasure.

“Oh, baby, that’s it. Yeah.. that’s it. Take everything I’m giving you. Taking it all so good… my sweet girl.”

He doesn’t set a pace, a rhythm, anything. It’s just him fucking you as hard and as much as he can get from you. By now, you’re overstimulated and haven’t even gotten your release. You know it’s coming, and part of you doubts you’ll get it— that he’ll pull back out of you again and ruin your orgasm, much like he’s ruined you all night.

He’s denied you, teased you, fucked you, fingered you, everything. There’s not much else you could take if he were to pull out of you. Hell, you’d probably come just from the thought of it all.

“Fuck, you’ve got the tightest fucking body. You knew what you were doing, huh?”

You didn’t respond. You weren’t even going to try this time.

Another slap to the face; not hard, not too painful. Just enough to bring you back to him. The flames flickered off his hand as his touched your skin. You hadn’t even noticed the heat.

“Didn’t you?”

“Mm-hmm,” is all you could muster.

“Look at you. You’re so beautiful when you’re fucked stupid. I don’t even have to move,” he abruptly stops his thrusts, and you don’t even notice for a second— your hips are rocking back at his without knowing, “See? You’re so lost in it all.”

He picked his thrusting back up, moving his hand from your neck, and to your other hip. You put your arms over his shoulders, holding your body closer to his as to keep yourself braced. You’re close— dangerously close.

“I can’t anymore, Johnny, I’m.. I’m gonna..”

“You want to come, sweetheart? Who do you belong to?”

“Mmmm, I’m yours, Johnny, I’m forever yours,” you croak out, voice hoarse and throat hurting from the now hours of teasing and denial.

“Good girl… such a good girl. Come for me, baby,” he finally said. After what seemed like forever, your release was here.

And you’re destroyed. Your body shakes as your nails scratch at Johnny’s back, the intense wave of your orgasm driving you insane. You practically convulse as your moans are nothing short of loud, hoarse whines.

He comes inside you, and had you not felt the warmth of it filling you up, you wouldn’t have been in the right mind to know it happened. The combined symphony of your moans and his bounced off the walls of the room, the silence holding the two of you making it all more sensual. Your body is shaking, hips involuntarily jerking as he’s still inside you. The feeling of his warm cock has you clenching him, and he’s still moaning at each one. You feel his hands run up your body, holding your arms and pulling back to look at your face.

“That’s my girl, you did so good- hey, are you okay?”

You feel one of his hands rub at your eye. You’re crying, and you didn’t even notice.

It’s not from pain, or agony, or anything of the sort.

You’re just downright exhausted. You went through hours of denial and to finally be granted the okay to let it all go? Yeah, you’re absolutely spent.

“I’m okay, just overwhelmed,” you laughed, giving him a small smile, “that was a lot.”

He pulls you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug. You can hear his heart thumping still, letting you know that he needed this almost as bad as you did.

“Easy, princess, I got you. Just breathe with me, okay?” He kisses your forehead again, before setting a steady breathing pattern for you to follow. A hand runs through your sweaty hair, lightly scratching your scalp as an act of comfort.

You hum in content, kissing his chest as a ‘thank you.’

“Did I go too far? Was I too rough on you, baby?”

At first you didn’t respond, trying to focus on keeping your breathing steady so you wouldn’t just lay back and pass out.

“Baby, tell me. I’m worried now, did I do too much?”

He feels your head slowly shake against his chest, and he let out sigh, relief showering him. He didn’t even think during most of it, neither did you; you were just living in the moment of it, too caught up in the tension to have anything else run through your mind. Now that you both were recovering, his voice matched yours; hoarse and spent.

“It was amazing, honey. Perfect, even,” you spoke against his skin, before kissing up his chest and to his neck, each one filled with love and reassurance.

“Thank God,” he said with a long sigh, “look at me.”

You obliged, looking up at his face. He’s so handsome like this— the level of care and comfort he gave you after each private session where you showed each other the amount of trust and love you shared. It was raw, it was.. always so perfect. Johnny may be an asshole, and yeah he’s got his moments with you. But he’d never want to hurt you, and deep down he knew that you’d let him know if he did. And tonight, despite the rough demeanor, you both knew you trusted each other, and would be reassuring if the other ever doubted.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You did so good, always so perfect. You’re such a strong woman. I love you, so damn much.”

And just like that, the tears threaten to fall again. This time from the love you felt for him. He rested his forehead against yours, taking in the peaceful silence left between you too. You took his chin in your hand, bringing him in for a kiss. One filled with more love, more reassurance, more trust, more than anything the two of you had voiced tonight.

“If I ever push you to your limits, or I hurt you, or.. if anything ever feels wrong, you’ll let me know, right?”

You nod, putting your forehead against his shoulder.

“Of course I will. Never once have I or did I feel like you would. I trust you, Johnny. I always will. I love you with all of my heart.”

A few moments of silence pass, before he goes to move, finally pulling out of you. Your core throbs at the loss of what felt like a perfect puzzle piece. Johnny puts his clothes back on, and walks across the room to gather the pieces of your clothing that he threw. He offered you his hand, and you hopped off the table. As soon as your feet hit the ground, you almost, legs weak as water.

“Woah, woah, woah, I gotcha.” He lifted you back onto the table, helping you redress as much as he could without you standing. “You sure you can walk? Or do I need to carry you?”

“I got this, watch me,” you playfully rolled your eyes, before hopping off the table once again, a little sturdier this time, buttoning your pants. Standing was one thing, but actually walking? Yeah.. that’s not happening right now.

“Okay, I’m carrying you. Come on, sweetheart.” He muttered to himself as he bent down to carry you. You yelped in surprise as he lifted you, carrying you bridal style to the door.

“You know, one day I’ll be carrying you through a doorway just like this, except it’ll be on our wedding day.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. There was one thing that many people agreed on: Johnny Storm was not marriage material.

You never expected him to say anything about that— ever. You were content with just being with him, married or not. But to hear him say those words? That one day the two of you will get married? It made your heart swell.

“Oh, really, now? You’ve thought that far ahead?”

“Of course I have. I would love nothing more than to grow old you with, baby.”

The two of you come to a stop as you arrive at Johnny’s room, and he puts you down for a second to unlock the door.

“Like this,” he states, picking you up again and crossing into his bedroom. Your head just barely hits the frame, and he stops, frantically making sure you’re okay. You’re laughing, and the look of panic on his face somehow makes it even funnier. He watched you crack yourself up with a loving smile, just thinking about how much he adored you.

After the two of you finally got into his room, he sat you down at the edge of the bed and went to run a bath. Once you both relaxed in the warm water for what seemed to be forever, you both got ready for some well deserved rest, and nestled into his bed.

You’re curled up into his side, your head on his chest, ready to doze off before you heard him speak.

“You okay?”

“Mm-hmm, just tired is all. I’m more than okay,” you promised, nodding your head against his warm chest.

“Tired from what? Having so much attitude or getting what you deserved for an hour?”

Ah, there it was. There’s the Johnny you knew. Now, not to get it misconstrued or anything, you loved when Johnny had his soft, romantic side. But this? This version of Johnny is what you loved the most. His sarcastic, joking manner. You flicked his chest, laughing slightly. His grip on you tightened, starting to laugh with you.

A few moments pass of you both just taking in the peace and comfort of being in the presence of one another.

“You really do trust me, don’t you?”

“Absolutely. With my life, Johnny.”

He doesn’t reply, not immediately. You feel him nod, and the hand on your arm rubs up and down.

“There’s no one else on this Earth I’d rather spend my life with.”

He opens his mouth, ready to hit you with another joke, but he stops himself.

“Get some sleep, you deserve it. I got you, sweetheart.”

You nestle closer, and Johnny pulls the sheets up farther up over the two of you. Listening to his heartbeat as the calm, grounding sound echoed in your ear, you drifted off into sleep, in the arms of the man you loved more than life itself.

The meeting at 8 that night never happened, seeing as some of the blueprints were smudged and crumbled up. Wonder how that happened?

[rosygaze]

busy woman

pairing: johnny storm x assistant!reader

summary: you’re way too busy at your new job to even remember to eat sometimes. but you could spare a minute or two to pretend not to like it when johnny flirts with you. inspired by busy woman by sabrina carpenter!

word count: 3.9k+

note: help wanted part 2 is here! thank you for all the love on part 1 🫶🏻 i’ve been working on this for like three months and she’s finally here 🥹 i’m definitely planning more stuff for these two but i may need to see the movie before more parts come out lmao who knows! enjoy !!!

< prev part

“Excuse me. Sorry.” You weaved and dodged the hoard of busy employees rushing in different directions. With the looming deadline on the horizon, the facility resembled an ant colony more than an office. Each person had a single goal and that was to get that rocket up in space.

While you couldn’t solve a complicated equation or weld metal, you quickly learned that you were pretty good at being an assistant. You had already built a system and connections with other departments that made it easier for you to do your job. Sue seemed to like you, at least you hoped she did cause it’s only been a month and you realized that you really liked working here.

Currently, you were on your way to deliver the stack of folders in your arms. Across the floor, you spotted the long chalkboard filled with various symbols and numbers that you would probably never understand. Dr. Reed Richards stood at one end, a piece of chalk hovered over the board. You approached him.

“Dr. Richards?” He flinched a little as if you pulled him out of a number-induced trance. “Sorry to disturb you.”

“Ah, you didn’t. You saved me, actually. I needed a break. This equation’s been racking my brain for weeks now.” Dr. Richards crossed out a string of numbers and letters.

“It does look pretty tricky.”

“Tricky’s one way to describe it.” He rubbed his stubbled jaw while he stared at the board in thought.

“I don’t wanna keep you for too long. Sue wanted you to have these documents.” You handed him the stack of files. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly at the mention of his wife.

“Thank you.” He flipped through them and picked out a single folder. “Has she mentioned anything about tonight?” He glanced at you expectantly.

“She’s very excited for your date.” You grinned. Over the past few weeks, you’ve been a firsthand witness of Sue and Reed’s relationship. The sweet nothings they would mumble to each other when they thought you were out of earshot, the extra slip of paper slipped in between stacks of folders, the way they seemed drawn to each other in a crowd.

Definitely didn’t make you feel more single than you already were.

Nope.

“Great.” Dr. Richards smiled shyly. You tried to ignore how red his face had gotten. “You tell her I’ll be done in a few hours and that I promise to be on time.”

“I will.”

“You’re the best.” Dr. Richards turned back to his board and immediately started scribbling. You took that as your sign to go back to your desk. Again, you weaved and dodged the crowd to get back to your desk and get started on yet another task. You were listing down to-dos in your head when you spotted a man by your desk. You sighed and braced yourself for impact.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Jonathan Storm called out as he saw you approaching. He was leaning on the front of your desk. One leg crossed over the other, arms bracing his weight behind him. Big, handsome grin on his face.

“Johnny.” Your voice clipped as you walked around him. You started typing on your computer, trying to ignore him in hopes that he would leave you alone before he could see how flustered he had made you with two words and a smile.

“Busy?” He turned and put his forearms on the edge of your desk, eyes burning a hole in the side of your head.

“Kinda.”

“Gunning for employee of the month?” Johnny picked up a pencil from your cup and started tapping it against the side of your monitor.

“Maybe.” You spared a glance at him. “Do you need anything from Sue?” You tried to divert the attention away from you.

“No, I don’t need anything from my dear sister today.” Johnny sighed and plopped down on the seat you kept in front of your desk for any visitors.

“Then what are you doing here?” You stopped your typing and you fully faced him.

“Wanted to see my favorite assistant.” He shrugged.

“I’m not your assistant.” You scoffed.

“No? Then I just wanted to see you.” A sly grin spread across his lips like the Cheshire cat. You blinked at him for a second, two. Allowing yourself to indulge in his attention until you remembered who he was, who you were, where you are.

You pulled your eyes away from his and looked down at your desk.

“Johnny… You can't say things like that to me.” You strained.

“Why not?” He asked you.

“Cause you work here.” You threw your hands up in exasperation. Could he really be this dense? “And I work here. For your sister, might I remind you.“

“What does that have to do with anything?"

“You can’t…you know.” You moved your hands in the air awkwardly.

“What?” He was goading you now, big brown eyes boring into yours.

“Flirt with me.” You said through your teeth.

“But I want to.”

“But you can’t.”

“You don’t want me to?”

“I-“

He had you cornered. Damn him.

“How about this? I’ll try my absolute best not to flirt with you.” You glared at him but he never wavered. He continued to blind you with that signature Storm smile. “And you can pretend not to like it. Deal?”

“Johnny.”

“Seems like a pretty sweet deal to me.” Johnny put his arms out as if to say ‘See?’. “Just as pretty as you are.” He added with a wink.

“Johnny!” You exclaimed. You couldn’t stop the flush that spread over your body even if you wanted to. Before you could tell him off again, you heard Sue’s voice calling you from inside her office. “This isn’t over.” You pointed a finger at him and narrowed your eyes.

“Oh, I hope not.” Johnny simply smirked and slid down on the chair as if he were lounging on the beach.

The keyboard clicked and clacked away as you typed out a report. The office had gotten quiet, people started leaving a couple of hours ago. Even Sue had passed by your desk and told you not to stay that late. You promised you wouldn’t. You just had a couple more things to do and you could call it a day.

But you thought about how you would save so much time tomorrow if you got a few more things done today. So here you were, neck aching and hands cramping, checking off yet another one of your to-dos.

You rolled your neck around to relieve some of the ache. You really needed to be more conscious of your posture.

“If you keep staying here this late, I think they’re gonna start charging you rent.” A voice echoed through your empty office, making you jump. Your relief turned into annoyance when you saw who it was.

“Johnny, you scared me!” You put a hand to your pounding chest.

“You’re working in a dark office all alone and you get scared by little old me?” Johnny dropped down in the seat in front of you again. “But, don’t you worry. Johnny’s here now and he’s gonna keep all the scary monsters away.”

“My hero.” You said dryly but a smile tugged on your lips. “Nothing better to do tonight?”

“Just keeping you company.” He shrugged. “And making sure you don’t stay here overnight. Do you realize how late it is?” You shook your head and checked your watch.

“It’s already 10pm?” You gasped. The nearest window to you was a couple of desks away so you didn’t realize just how late it had gotten. You swore you weren’t working that long.

“Didn’t see the sun setting?”

“Not really.” You mumbled sheepishly.

“Did you leave this desk at all today?” Johnny raised a brow at you.

“Yeah, Sue had me pick up some reports from her earlier.” To which you took to your desk, sat down, and typed out reports for.

“And?”

You rattled your brain. “And… I used the ladies’ room a couple of times.”

Johnny made a ‘tsk’ sound and plopped a brown paper bag on your desk. “Eat up, busy bee.”

“What is this?”

“Food.” He reached inside and tossed something your way. You awkwardly caught it and saw that it was a burger wrapped in parchment paper. “I'm pretty sure you haven't had anything to eat the whole day.”

“How’d you know that?” You said, voice barely over a whisper. Your stomach grumbled as if it remembered what hunger was. Meanwhile, Johnny was already digging into his own burger.

“Well, I’ve been watching you for a couple of weeks now. I know you get so focused on your work that you skip meals.” He picked up a fry from the bag and popped it into his mouth. “And when I saw your car in the parking lot, I figured you'd be in here for another hour or so, so I went and picked up some burgers for us. Lo and behold, here you are. Glued to your desk.”

You were quiet for a second. Since you started here, Johnny had been pestering you. He was nice, of course but he had a knack for catching you at your busiest and talking your ear off. He annoyed you most days, made you smile on others.

Today. Today, he made you smile. Johnny noticed that you were working late and brought you food. You could cry but you weren’t sure if it was because you were touched or hungry.

“You've been watching me? Stalker.” You unwrapped your burger and took a bite. He rolled his eyes at you.

“That's all you got? No ‘I love you, Johnny! You saved me from starving to death!’?”

“Thank you, Johnny. You saved me from starving to death.” You continued to eat your burger and looked Johnny dead in the eye.

“I think you got that first part wrong.” Johnny lifted his brows, expectantly. He wanted to hear the words ‘I love you, Johnny’ come out of your mouth. Fat chance.

“Mm,” You moaned exaggeratedly around your burger, making Johnny shift in his seat. “This is so good. It wiped my memory. Who are you again?”

Johnny chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Go eat your burger.”

A-choo!

You sneezed into a wad of tissue that you’d crumpled into your hand. You wiped your nose and stuffed it into your skirt pocket. There was a bug going around and you did everything in your power to keep it away from you. You took your vitamins, overloaded yourself with fruits and vegetables, stayed far away from anyone who tried to clear their throat.

And yet. It got you.

You sniffled miserably and went back to taking notes on the engine test Sue asked for. It was hard to focus when you had a pounding headache and a round of coughs threatening to spill out. Shake it off.

“You feeling okay, hon?” A gruff voice asked. You turned and saw the kind, worried eyes of Benjamin Grimm.

“I’m fine, Ben.” Your voice was hoarse.

“That runny nose and wad of tissues sticking out of your pocket says otherwise.” He pointed a finger down.

“That’s nothing.” You shoved your hand in your pocket and pushed everything down.

“If you say so.” He nudged your arm with his elbow. “Take it easy at least.”

You smiled gratefully. Ben looked rough and mean on the outside, piercing blue eyes and a mouth of a sailor to match. You were pretty intimidated by him when you were first introduced but you quickly learned that he was just a big sweetheart once you got to know him.

The two of you continued your work. Ben was helping you make sense of all the technical jargon. After a couple of minutes of note taking, your vision started to get hazy and you wobbled on your heels.

“Okay, let’s take a break.” Ben stated. He gripped your arm and gently pulled you down to a nearby chair. You wanted to protest but he cut you off. “No, no. Sit down. I’ll get you some water.”

You tried to call out to him but that round of coughs you were suppressing finally made itself known. When you were done, you sunk down in your chair. I hate this. You thought. God, you missed the days when your nose wasn’t clogged.

“Hey, so I stayed in last night. Crazy, I know. Who am I?” You groaned. Johnny was gonna rip you a new one. You sat up and put on the most “I’m not sick!” expression you could muster, even slapped your cheeks a few times to get some color back in them. Johnny strolled up, carefree as always. “Anyways, I watched that movie you were talking about last week and- whoa, wait.” He stopped in front of you. Johnny scanned your face with an intense gaze.

“Hi, Johnny.” You said, sweetly, but he just narrowed his eyes at you.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned.

“Nothing’s wrong. How was the movie?” You tried to distract him.

“No, no, no. You look pale.” Johnny put one hand on the back of your chair and bent down to be closer to you. Your face was heating up. You were going to chalk that up to the fever you were probably developing…and not because of his face so close to yours. “Did you forget to eat again?”

“I had lunch.”

“She’s sick!” You looked over Johnny’s shoulder and saw Ben coming back with a glass of water in hand.

“Ben!” You groaned.

“Sick?” Johnny immediately grabbed your face with both hands. “You’re burning up, sweetheart.” Johnny’s voice was soft. His thumb brushed your cheek with a featherlight touch. You leaned into his palm for a fraction of a second. Blame it on your flu-ridden brain.

“Johnny, it’s okay.” You matched his tone.

“What the hell are you doing here? Go home.” He gave you an incredulous look. He took one of his hands away from your face and reached back for the glass of water from Ben. “Drink.”

You took big gulps. You didn’t realize how dehydrated you’d become. “I’m not going home.”

“I’m taking you home.” Johnny put his hands on your forearms and pulled you up gently but firmly.

“You don’t know where I live, Johnny. And I’m not leaving.” You shook your head which was a big mistake. You felt light-headed again and wobbled. Johnny gripped you even tighter while glaring at you.

“Sue!” Ugh. You heard your boss’ heels clack behind you. You turned your head much slower this time. “Your assistant has the plague and refuses to go home.”

“The plague?” Sue raised a brow.

“He’s being dramatic.” You corrected him. Sue put the back of her hand to your forehead and tsk-ed.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve given you the day off.” She crossed her arms.

“We have so much to do.” Your argument was getting weaker every time.

“It can wait til tomorrow. Today, all I want you to do is to rest until you feel better.” She pointed at you.

“But-“

“No buts.”

Fight’s over.

“Fine.” You conceded with a pout.

“I’ll drive her home.” Johnny put an arm around your shoulder and guided you to a walking pace.

“Feel better, hon!” Ben called out to you. You waved back to him.

“Did you like the movie though?” You asked Johnny.

“Loved it.”

The copy machine was slower than usual today and you were getting impatient. You had a pile of 30-page reports that needed 4 copies by tomorrow morning and you were only at number 3. It didn’t help that you picked the wrong pair of heels today and they were pinching your toes. Never, ever wear pointy heels at work.

You fed another piece of paper through the machine and put your weight against it while you tried to alleviate some of the pain on your feet. You rolled your ankles a few times on each side while grabbing the warm piece of paper and placed it with the rest of the copies. That was the last of copy 3. You pulled out the original pages and started the process one last time.

Sighing, you put the first page in. You looked around the office. It was pretty empty at this time, but there were a few stragglers that you knew would start packing up soon. The machine whirred while you took a headcount of who was still here. John, William, Shelley, Johnny….

Wait.

Your eyes snapped back to your desk where a certain blonde was in his usual seat. A smile tugged on your lips and you may or may not have started speeding up your copying. Once the final page shot out onto the tray, you gathered all of your papers and walked back to your desk.

Johnny was mindlessly fiddling with the pens you kept in a mug on your desk. He had his back to you so you would be able to surprise him for once.

“I think people are starting to notice that you spend more time at my desk than you do at yours.” You giggled when he flinched.

“Well, the view here is much better than mine.” He recovered quickly and shot you an easy smile. You shook your head, letting the flirty comment wash over you.

You pulled out the puncher and punched holes through the reports. You opened your box of paper fasteners and started to arrange your copies into their respective folders. Sparing a glance at Johnny, you saw that he was tapping a beat on your desk with a pensive expression on his face.

“Is everything alright?” You asked.

“Why wouldn't it be?” Johnny tried to keep it light but you heard the edge in his voice.

“You're just…” You dragged, trying to find the right words. “Quieter than usual.”

“‘s been a long day.” He let out a long breath. Johnny’s brows furrowed and the corner of his lips turned downwards.

“I heard you went out into the field today.” You fastened the last report into its folder and gave Johnny your full attention.

“Keeping tabs on me?” A ghost of a smirk graced his lips.

“Part of the job.” You shrugged. “Did something happen?”

“I’m grounded.” Johnny said after a beat.

“What?”

“I’m not allowed to fly.” He stopped his drumming and placed his palm flat on the wood.

“Why would they do that?” Johnny was one of the most competent pilots in the program. It made no sense to suspend him like this.

“You know that the new jets came in this week, right?” You nodded to answer his question. “Well, they asked me to test those bad boys. See how fast they’d go. And that’s what I did.”

“That doesn’t explain why they’d ground you though.” You tilted your head in confusion.

“Well, they only wanted me to go up to a certain speed but I knew they could go faster. I could go faster.”

“Did you?”

Johnny smiled, the first genuine one of the day. “I did. Going that fast. Nothing better than that. You just feel so…free.”

“That sounds amazing.” You couldn’t help but smile with him.

“It was. Until I landed.”

“What did they do?”

“Insubordination. That’s what they called it. The jet was fine, by the way. It was built to go that fast. The admiral just has a stick up his ass. I let him know that too.” Johnny said through gritted teeth, hand curling into a tight fist. You could see a flush of red on his cheeks and his breaths getting shallower.

“How long ‘till you can fly again?” You wanted to reach out and touch his hand but you held yourself back.

“A month.” He scoffed.

“Okay.” You sighed in relief. “You’ll still be able to join the launch.”

“Ha, they can try to replace me.” Johnny jabbed a finger on his chest. “They won’t find someone else.”

“Oh, I know. The team wouldn’t let that happen.” You paused. “Neither would I.”

Johnny’s eyes crinkled. “Going soft on me now, sweetheart?”

“Just cause you’re all mopey today.” You teased. “I am sorry, Johnny.”

“Ah, it‘s not your fault.” He waved a hand at you. You frowned.

“But you’re upset and you’re my friend so still. I’m sorry.” You rambled.

“I’m your friend?” He asked, sounding way too happy about it.

“I think so. Do you think we are?” Your voice got quiet, feeling shy all of a sudden.

“I do.” Johnny nodded.

A warm, fuzzy feeling came over you. You didn't know when it happened, but Johnny had become a staple in your life. It was so easy to talk to him. You found yourself drawn to him in a crowd, saving seats for each other every time there was an office-wide meeting. Then of course, you found yourself here on most days. Sitting at your desk, talking about everything and nothing. Some days, Johnny would just sit there and wait for you to finish working. He’d talk your ear off but you realized it was just to get you to stop working and go home.

Johnny was a friend. And a pretty good one at that.

“Do you wanna go get something to eat? I think we both need to get out of this place.” You logged off your computer and shut it down.

“Asking me out?”

“As a friend.” You gave him a pointed look.

“Uh-huh, sure.” He played along, nodding sarcastically. “Unfortunately, I’ve got plans tonight so I’m gonna need a raincheck on that.” A part of you was disappointed but you brushed it off.

“That’s okay. Next time?” You slung your bag over your shoulder.

“Next time. But, thank you.” Johnny locked eyes with you. “For listening.”

“Any time.” You smiled at him. “Ready to go?”

“You go ahead. I forgot something in my locker.”

“Okay, I’ll see you Monday?”

“Drive safe.”

You navigated out of the building and pushed the doors open. Fresh air filled your lungs, something you often take for granted after being in a stuffy office all day. The parking lot was fairly empty. You could see your own car a few rows down and spotted Johnny’s fire red convertible parked close to the door.

What you didn’t expect to see was the woman leaning against it.

You recognized her. She worked here too but in a different department. She didn’t pay you mind when you walked past, too caught up with finding something in her bag. You looked away before she could catch you staring but your brain was going a hundred miles an hour.

Did she know Johnny? Of course, she knows Johnny. Everyone knows him. What was she doing by his car? And most importantly…

Why was this bothering you so much?

Eventually, you made it to your car and started the engine. As you were pulling out of the driveway, you caught a glimpse of Johnny coming out of the building. In the rearview mirror, you watched him walk up to the woman, kiss her cheek, and open the passenger door for her.

You pulled your eyes away and focused on the road ahead. An uncomfortable feeling settled in your gut. You felt a little nauseous but you ignored it, just like you ignored the green-eyed monster that was slowly making itself known.

Whatever.

You were too busy to have a crush on anyone, anyways.

Much less on someone like Jonathan Storm.

next part > (to be continued)

[joelsrose]

Dark Matter

i haven't written reed before but here we go! i hope yall enjoy xx

warnings: fingering, age gap? (reader is mid 20's), cheating (sorry sue), power-dynamic, semi-public

☄︎₊˚⊹☆

You walked into the lab the same way you always did—quietly, carefully, your notebook hugged to your chest like a shield, pages dog-eared and smudged with graphite, filled with half-solved equations, theoretical scribbles, and tiny margin doodles of molecules and stars.

The click of your heeled boots echoed off the cold, polished floor, a sound that somehow felt too loud in the stillness of the room. The air inside was always a little too cold, like the whole space was suspended in a vacuum—untouched by the warmth of human hands—but you liked it that way. It made you feel sharp, focused. Like anything could happen here. Like everything already had.

It had been exactly seven days since you started your internship under Mr. Richards—or Reed, as he’d insisted you call him on the very first day, his tone polite but firm, eyes flickering to yours with something unreadable when you stammered out “Dr. Richards” instead. The man was brilliant. Obviously. He was also deeply intimidating in the way only truly intelligent people could be—effortlessly so, like he didn’t notice the way the rest of the world bent around his mind.

He wasn’t cruel, not at all, but there was something about him that made your pulse skip whenever he turned to you with a question, something about the way he spoke in low, thoughtful tones, his hands always busy with some piece of machinery or scribbling formulas on the glass board like his thoughts couldn’t be contained by paper.

You’d been selected from a pool of thousands—won the LUMINA International Science Initiative, a fellowship that granted a single spot, once a year, to shadow one of the world’s leading innovators.

You never expected to get it. You’d submitted your proposal last-minute, half-convinced it was too ambitious, too naive. But something about it must’ve caught their attention—maybe your hypothesis on temporal field distortions, maybe the way you phrased it like a love letter to curiosity itself. Either way, it landed you here, standing just inside the threshold of the Baxter Building’s most secured lab, wearing your best skirt and your favorite boots, heart thudding in your chest like a metronome gone mad.

You adjusted your grip on your notebook and cleared your throat softly, the sound swallowed by the lab’s cavernous quiet. “Morning,” you offered, voice smaller than you meant, eyes sweeping the room for him—half-hoping he wasn’t here yet, half-hoping he was.

From behind one of the massive monitors, you heard the gentle clink of metal, followed by a low voice.

“You’re early.”

You turned and there he was, sleeves rolled to his forearms, collarbone peeking where his lab coat had come undone. His hair was tousled, like he’d been up for hours already, running his hands through it between equations. There was graphite smudged on his wrist, and a faint streak of oil down one thumb, and somehow that made him look even more untouchable. He glanced over his shoulder at you, then down at your notebook.

“More scribbles?” he asked, one corner of his mouth lifting—not quite a smile, but close enough to make your chest flutter.

You nodded, holding it out. “A few questions from last night. I kept thinking about the energy dispersion curve in the 5-D field model, and—well. It didn’t make sense that it plateaued. Not at those values.”

He took the notebook, flipping through the pages like he was reading a novel written in his own handwriting, then looked up at you with a sliver of something warmer in his gaze.

“You know,” he said quietly, “I think you might be the first person to ever challenge that curve. Everyone else just accepted it.”

You blinked. “Oh. I—didn’t mean to be... disrespectful or anything.”

“You weren’t.” He looked back at the page, his brow furrowing like he was genuinely considering your notes. “You’re just... asking the right questions.”

And the way he said that—asking the right questions—it made your cheeks heat, made your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag like you were suddenly fifteen again, flustered and awkward and unsure of what to say next, even though you were here because you belonged here, even though you were brilliant in your own quiet way.

He glanced at you again, slower this time, eyes scanning your face like he was watching a theory unfold in real time, and said, “Let’s run it. See if you’re right.” Just like that, like it was nothing, like it didn’t mean the world.

☄︎₊˚⊹☆

Hours passed, though you barely noticed them. What started as a single equation quickly unraveled into an entire evening of hypotheses and recalibrations, the two of you moving around each other in this strange, quiet rhythm—typing, adjusting, scribbling, calculating, retrying, failing, fixing, retrying again.

The room had fallen into that kind of sacred stillness where every noise felt sharper—the whir of machines, the scratch of pencils, the occasional creak of the stool beneath you. Every time a result came back wrong, you’d lean in beside him and try again. Every time it came back right, your shoulders would touch, just barely, and you’d both say nothing.

And then it happened again—casual, effortless—Reed stretched.

This time, to grab his phone from across the room without moving from his chair, his arm extending impossibly far and elegant, fingers curling around the device with that same practiced ease, like it was just another part of his body responding to his mind. You watched it happen with that same quiet awe you always did, eyes following the length of his arm as it retracted, as he settled back into himself like it hadn’t been strange at all, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn’t even the stretch itself, not really—it was the nonchalance, the way he didn’t even think about it. But you did. You thought about it too much.

You were still thinking about it when he glanced at his screen, a quiet frown flickering across his face.

“It’s eight already,” he murmured, thumbing through a text. “We’ve been here all day.”

You blinked, surprised by the time, and then watched as his expression shifted—something soft and faintly guilty tugging at the edge of his mouth as he read whatever had been sent to him.

“Sue made dinner,” he said after a beat, sighing, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand like he hadn’t sat down for a proper meal in days. “Guess I should…”

He trailed off as he stood, the chair sliding back with a scrape, and something in your chest twisted—tight and unexpected. Not sharp enough to hurt, but deep enough to notice.

You weren’t sure if it was jealousy, exactly, but there was something inside you that ached a little at the thought of him leaving. At the thought of him sitting across from someone else, in a warm apartment somewhere above the city, eating food someone else had made for him, laughing over things that had nothing to do with lab results or radiation curves or the way your hands always trembled just slightly when he got too close.

You didn’t realize you were staring until he glanced back at you with one brow arched, curious, amused, his coat slung half over his arm and a faint smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth.

“Something wrong?” he asked, voice low and too steady, like he already knew the answer but wanted to hear you say it.

“No,” you said quickly, too quickly, the word tripping over itself on your tongue. “No, nothing.”

He looked at you for a long second, long enough that your skin prickled under the weight of it, his eyes steady and a little too knowing, like he could see past your flustered expression and straight into the chaos of your thoughts. Then—he chuckled, soft and brief, like the sound had slipped out before he could stop it, low and warm and close enough to make your pulse stutter.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly, not in disapproval, but something more bemused—like he found you endlessly curious and had all the time in the world to figure you out.

You ducked your head, the heat rising in your cheeks again, blooming in a flush that you tried to suppress with a tight little smile, your fingers worrying the corner of your notebook as though it could ground you, steady you, hide the fact that your heart was now pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears.

Then his voice came again, low and coaxing, that soft velvet drawl of someone deeply used to being the smartest man in the room—“Come on,” he said, “what’s going on in that brilliant mind?”

And you should’ve lied. You should’ve laughed it off, said something safe, something neutral, something clever and unassuming and appropriately scientific. But your brain had been wandering all week—had been drifting there over and over again, uninvited, unwelcome, inappropriate, gnawing at the edges of your curiosity in the quiet moments between experiments.

You’d tried not to think about it, tried not to let your gaze linger when he stretched, tried not to imagine what else could stretch, how far, how much, how deeply.

And somehow—somehow—it slipped out of your mouth before your brain had a chance to intercept it, just a whisper of a thought spoken aloud, soft and breathless and too curious to be innocent.

“Does everything stretch?”

The silence that followed was instant and absolute.

You heard it in the way the machines kept humming but your breath caught.

You felt it in the way Reed’s eyes snapped to yours, too quickly, like he wasn’t expecting that.

And you saw it—oh, you saw it—in the way he froze, the way the lines at the corners of his mouth shifted, lips parting slightly like he was about to speak but couldn’t quite remember how.

Your eyes widened almost immediately, your whole body locking in mortified horror, hands flying up to your face as if that could undo what you’d just said, as if that could pull the words back into your throat and shove them into the void where they belonged.

“Oh my God—I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that, I swear—I swear, it was just—I was talking about your arm, I mean your body—not your—oh God, not your body body, I meant your abilities, like biologically—scientifically—I’m so sorry—”

You were rambling now, barely breathing between the words, voice growing higher and faster with every sentence, and he was still just looking at you, still absolutely silent, like you’d short-circuited him and he was trying not to let it show. His expression hadn’t changed much—but his eyes were different now, darker maybe, or maybe just sharper, like a wire had pulled taut somewhere beneath his usually-calm exterior.

Then—finally—he blinked.

And his mouth twitched.

Not a smirk. Not quite. But close. Very, very close.

“Everything?” he echoed softly, voice rough around the edges like it had dropped an octave without permission.

You wanted to melt through the floor.

“Forget I said anything,” you mumbled, practically squeaked, your hands halfway up your face now, notebook clutched uselessly against your chest like a shield made of paper and shame.

But he didn’t laugh. He didn’t tease. He just looked at you for another long moment, like he was tucking the question away in some private drawer of his mind, like he was considering it—you—carefully.

And then he said, his voice quiet and unreadable. “Some things stretch more than others.”

He said it with the same offhand ease he might’ve used to mention the weather or the results of an equation, as if the words weren’t heavy with meaning, as if they didn’t land like a struck tuning fork in the center of your chest and hum there, low and electric. And then—just like that—he glanced at the time again, slipped his phone into the inside pocket of his coat, his fingers moving with quiet efficiency, and looked toward the door without even a flicker of hesitation in his expression.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, voice smooth and calm, like it had all been nothing—your question, his answer, the unbearable silence that followed—like he hadn’t just reduced you to a trembling, wide-eyed mess with five words and a look you couldn’t quite decipher.

And then he turned and walked out, his footsteps steady and unhurried, as though the entire moment hadn’t happened, as though he hadn’t noticed the way your breath had caught or your lips had parted slightly or the way your fingers had curled around your notebook like you were holding onto it for dear life. The door eased shut behind him with a soft, final click, and the silence that followed felt far too loud, as if the air itself had been holding its breath and now didn’t know what to do with the tension left behind.

You stood there for a moment, completely still, eyes fixed on the door like he might come back—might say something, might clarify or laugh or admit that yes, that had been what you thought it was, that you weren’t imagining the way his gaze had sharpened, the subtle shift in his voice, the pause before he’d answered like he was trying to decide how honest he wanted to be.

But the door stayed shut. The lab was quiet. And your face was burning.

☄︎₊˚⊹☆

The next morning, you thought about quitting.

No—worse—you thought about being removed, escorted out of the lab with quiet, professional shame, the faculty committee shaking their heads at the girl who couldn’t keep her thoughts scientific. You’d spent the entire night twisted in sheets and mortification, staring at the ceiling of your tiny dorm room with cheeks that wouldn’t stop burning and hands that kept curling into fists against your pillow, your mind looping the same sentence over and over like a taunt.

Does everything stretch?

It had sounded so much worse in hindsight. In your head, it was a purely biological question—curiosity, theoretical, relevant. But the moment it left your lips, soft and shy and tilted with unintended suggestion, you’d felt the way it landed. The way his eyes had flickered. The way his voice had dropped just a hair lower. The way he’d looked at you after.

And then he walked out like it was nothing.

Which somehow made it worse.

So when you walked into the lab that morning, notebook clutched to your chest like a shield, heart crawling up the back of your throat with every step, you were fully prepared for disaster—for tension, awkwardness, maybe even polite dismissal. But he was already there, of course he was—leaning over one of the central consoles with his sleeves rolled, hair still rumpled from sleep, lips pursed slightly in thought as he ran through some new readout, a mug half-full of black coffee resting near his elbow.

And when he glanced up at you?

Everything was... fine.

He offered you a brief, familiar nod, the same one he always did, and then gestured to a screen without so much as a hint of discomfort, as if the night before had been a dream, as if you hadn’t asked the most humiliating question of your life and then spiraled into a dimension of shame he probably discovered himself.

You blinked, stunned by the ease of it, by the way he moved through the morning without even a trace of tension, without a single flinch. It was—professional. Cordial. Kind.

And strangely, that grounded you.

The day unfolded slowly, then steadily—small victories, clarified hypotheses, new data sets—and your body slowly began to relax into the rhythm you’d started to love, the silent teamwork of minds that trusted each other. And even though he hadn’t said anything beyond the work, even though the stretch of time passed with nothing but research and updates, you caught yourself looking again—watching the way his hands moved, the way he’d lean into the screen, the way he thought so deeply with his whole body, and the way you were beginning to understand him in ways that had nothing to do with science.

It wasn’t until late afternoon, when the sun outside had dipped low enough to cast long gold shadows across the lab floor, that he finally spoke without referencing an equation.

“Sue was asking about you,” he said casually, eyes still on his screen, voice calm as if he didn’t know he’d just sent your stomach tumbling.

You blinked, startled. “Oh?”

He nodded once, the motion subtle. “Think I’ve been talking too much about how smart you are.”

Your breath caught in your throat and then returned all at once in a rush of heat to your face. You looked away, your lips parting slightly as your blush bloomed across your cheeks, creeping down your neck, the words lingering like sunlight on your skin.

“She wants to meet you,” he continued, finally glancing over at you with that steady, unreadable gaze that always made you feel a little exposed, a little unsteady.

“Really?” you asked, blinking up at him, your voice too soft, too unsure. “I—I mean, I’d be honored.”

He chuckled, quiet and amused, and God, it made your heart stutter.

“Tonight?” he asked, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Your lips parted again. “Tonight?” you echoed, because your brain was clearly still catching up.

He tilted his head, expression flickering with something close to amusement. “Unless you’re busy,” he said smoothly. “Or unless you were planning on camping out here all night again, trying to crack the wavefield inversion curve without sleeping or eating—because that does sound like you.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself, the sound escaping like a sigh, soft and a little breathless, and he smiled—genuine and rare, the kind that made your knees feel unsteady and your chest warm.

You shook your head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly too shy to meet his eyes. “No,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not busy.”

“Good,” he said, his smile deepening just slightly. “I’ll see you for dinner then.”

And with that, he turned back to his screen, the moment slipping away like mist, but the warmth of it stayed, curling low and steady in your chest.

You were going to dinner. With Reed Richards. And Sue Storm.

☄︎₊˚⊹☆

The Baxter Building stood tall and impossible in the heart of the city, its sleek, glinting frame catching the last of the golden evening light like it had been plucked from some distant future and set gently down in Manhattan.

The security in the lobby had let you through without question, as if they’d been expecting you, as if your name already belonged in the same breath as Reed Richards and Sue Storm, and that thought alone made your stomach twist with something between awe and panic as you stepped into the elevator.

It was silent inside—sterile and smooth, the walls a brushed metal that reflected the softest version of your silhouette back at you, almost dreamlike. You stared at your reflection for a moment, adjusting the bottle of wine you held with both hands, the paper bag crinkling slightly beneath your fingertips.

You’d picked it up on the way here after spending a full thirty minutes in the wine shop pretending to know what pairs with intellectual dinner parties hosted by superheroes. You smoothed the front of your dress—a soft, modest thing that you’d chosen carefully, something that felt like you, but maybe a little prettier, a little more delicate than usual, your lips painted just faintly, enough to make you feel like you were trying without looking like you were trying.

You exhaled slowly, barely noticing the way the elevator glided up without a sound, your heartbeat louder than anything around you. Your thoughts raced, of course they did—what if it was too much? What if you shouldn’t have come? What if he hadn’t meant it the way it sounded, that subtle curve of his voice when he said see you at dinner, the glint in his eye, the way his attention had lingered for just a moment too long?

The elevator chimed softly.

The doors opened.

And then— There he was.

Reed stood just inside the threshold, one hand braced casually on the edge of the doorway, the other slipping his phone into his back pocket like he’d only just finished checking something, his sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, collarbone peeking slightly where his top button had been left undone, no tie, no lab coat—just a simple, perfectly tailored shirt that made your brain stutter for half a beat.

His hair was slightly tousled, like he’d run his fingers through it absentmindedly more than once, and there was a tiny streak of ink or maybe graphite on his knuckle that hadn’t been washed off completely.

It was Reed, but not the version of him you’d grown used to seeing in the lab, not the hyper-focused, brilliant blur of intellect you worked beside every day—this Reed looked like he’d been waiting. For you.

His eyes moved over you slowly—once, all the way down and back up again, not rushed, not obvious, but deliberate enough that you felt it everywhere, like heat pressing into the skin of your chest and the backs of your knees, your fingers tightening instinctively around the bottle you were holding.

He didn’t say anything at first, just quirked the corner of his mouth into something halfway between a smirk and a smile, soft but amused, his gaze still lingering just a little too long.

“You clean up well,” he said finally, voice lower than usual, not teasing exactly—more like he was confessing something he hadn’t meant to say aloud.

Your mouth parted slightly, but your voice caught, and when you finally managed to speak, it came out soft and a little breathless. “I—brought wine.”

He glanced down at the bottle, then back at you, his smile deepening just enough to make your heart skip. “Dangerously overqualified,” he murmured, stepping back to let you in. “Smart and thoughtful. Sue’s going to love you.”

You stepped past him into the apartment, the warmth of the space wrapping around you instantly, the scent of dinner and city lights and him curling at the edge of your senses, and even as you tried to focus on your breathing, on your posture, on not tripping in your kitten heels, you could still feel the echo of his eyes on your skin, like he hadn’t really stopped looking.

The apartment unfolded around you like a page in some impossibly curated design magazine, only softer, warmer, more lived-in than anything artificial—clean, modern lines met rich textures, brushed steel softened by warm walnut floors and deep navy accents that glowed golden under the cascade of low, amber-hued lighting.

One entire wall was glass, and beyond it, the Manhattan skyline burned softly against the horizon, city lights just starting to glitter like distant stars, and even the air inside smelled expensive and comforting—like slow-cooked herbs and something faintly sweet.

You were still catching your breath, still clutching the wine like a lifeline, when you heard a voice float in from down the hall—clear, warm, and unmistakably female.

“There she is.”

Sue Storm walked into view like she had been sculpted from light itself—tall and impossibly graceful, wrapped in soft neutral fabrics that draped just right, her golden hair falling in loose waves that framed her face perfectly, her eyes a crystalline blue that held a kind of sharpness you immediately respected.

She was breathtaking, in that way women are when they know who they are, and the moment she looked at you, her whole expression softened with something kind and curious and real.

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said with a small smile, her voice smooth like honey stirred into tea, her gaze never once breaking from yours.

“Hi,” you breathed, the word escaping before you could shape it into anything more eloquent. “It’s such an honor to meet you.”

She waved you off with a flick of her manicured fingers, as if the formality embarrassed her. “Please,” she said with a light laugh, stepping closer. “The way my husband talks about you? I’m the one who’s honored.”

And you blushed so hard you felt it in your ears, your whole body warming beneath the soft light, fingers tightening just slightly around the neck of the bottle as you dipped your head in modest disbelief, not quite sure if you should laugh or hide.

Reed, who had stepped away to adjust the music or maybe just give you a moment, said nothing, but you felt the weight of his glance again—the quiet satisfaction in the corners of his mouth like this was exactly what he wanted: you here, now, nervous but luminous, admired and welcomed.

“Come in,” Sue insisted gently, her hand brushing your arm in a way that grounded you immediately. “Dinner’s almost ready. I made way too much food—he said you don’t eat much, but I never trust him when he says that. He’s never once finished a plate himself.”

You smiled, heart still beating a little too fast, and followed her deeper into the space, the sound of your shoes soft against the hardwood, the city glowing quietly beyond the windows as if watching you take your first steps into something bigger than an internship—something warmer, more dangerous, and far more personal.

☄︎₊˚⊹☆

Dinner was lovely—elegant but warm, the kind of meal that felt intimate without trying, served at a long polished table that glowed honey-gold under the overhead lights, the city sparkling just beyond the glass like a living mural.

You sat across from them, Reed to your left, Sue across from you, and despite the tight coil of nerves you’d carried into the evening, it was… comfortable.

Sue had a way of making you feel like you belonged, like you weren’t just a guest in the home of two of the most brilliant minds on the planet, but someone worth sitting at their table, someone they genuinely wanted to know.

You found yourself watching them more than you meant to—Sue leaning toward him with quiet laughter, Reed murmuring something back without looking up from his wine glass, the two of them moving in the kind of rhythm that only came from years of intimacy and quiet understanding. And still, as you watched them, something bloomed low and warm in your stomach—not jealousy, exactly, but a kind of quiet ache, a fascination that hummed beneath your skin, a longing that had less to do with their relationship and more to do with him.

You were still chasing the thread of that thought when Sue turned to you again, eyes bright with interest.

“So,” she said, “how did you get interested in all of this?”

You blinked, startled out of your reverie, and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear with a shy smile. “Well,” you began softly, glancing down at your plate before meeting her gaze again, “ever since I was a kid, I just… I always wanted to understand how the world worked. The math, the movement, the rules. I remember watching the stars and thinking—that’s what I want to learn. That’s what I want to be part of.”

Sue offered you a warm smile, nodding in that gentle, encouraging way that made you feel like your words mattered, like they weren’t small or naïve or too eager. “Well,” she said, “it’s always nice seeing young people interested in this kind of work—especially a fellow…” she paused, grinning as she reached for her glass, “…girl genius.”

You laughed softly, cheeks warm, about to reply with something awkward and grateful and probably too modest—when it happened.

You felt it.

Unmistakable.

A hand. Large, warm, and undeniably real, sliding gently across your thigh under the table.

Your heart stopped. Your breath caught somewhere high in your chest, your eyes flickering toward Reed so quickly you barely caught Sue sipping her wine across from you. But he didn’t look at you—not exactly. His gaze remained calm and forward, his profile composed and entirely unreadable as he took a slow sip of his wine and then glanced up at Sue, his hand still resting firmly on your leg.

“She’s brilliant,” he said casually, his voice smooth and even, like he was commenting on the weather, like he wasn’t currently touching you from across the table while sitting next to his wife.

You sat frozen, pulse thundering in your ears, body rigid but electrified, your fingers tightening ever so slightly around the stem of your glass as you tried to focus, to breathe, to not move.

“She corrected me the other day about a flux equation I wrote in ’04,” he continued, eyes finally drifting to meet yours—and holding there, steady and direct, a silent dare written behind his calm expression. “She was right, too.”

Sue laughed, clearly delighted. “Good. God knows someone needs to keep you in check.”

You could barely hear her. Could barely focus on anything except the heat of Reed’s hand, the way it pressed gently into the top of your thigh, just enough to let you know it was real, just enough to make your stomach twist with something hot and shivery and shamefully thrilling.

And then—his hand moved.

Not in that subtle, polite way you might’ve been able to ignore or convince yourself had been some kind of misunderstanding, not a graze or a twitch or something incidental—but deliberate, slow, intentional, his palm sliding higher, slipping beneath the hem of your dress in a single fluid motion that felt so impossibly confident it made your entire body lock up at once.

The heat of his skin against your thigh stole the breath from your lungs, and when his fingers skimmed the delicate edge of your underwear, just barely brushing the fabric, you felt your heart climb straight into your throat and stay there.

You almost choked on your wine.

The glass halted halfway to your lips, your hands trembling just enough for the crystal to click against your teeth, and you let out a strange, stifled sound—half gasp, half cough—your eyes wide, your posture going ramrod straight as you struggled to swallow the panic and arousal crawling up your spine in tandem.

“You alright?” Sue asked gently, glancing up from her plate with concern etched between her brows, the picture of warmth and kindness and everything undeserving of what was happening beneath her dinner table.

“Yes,” you stammered, too quickly, the syllable snapping out of your mouth like it had been fired from a slingshot, your cheeks flushed a deep, telltale red as you nodded a little too hard. “I’m fine. Just—went down the wrong way.”

Across from you, Reed glanced up from his glass at the sound of your voice, his expression calm—no, worse than calm—amused, like he was enjoying watching you fall apart in real time, like he was studying the way you squirmed and flushed and fidgeted with quiet, academic satisfaction. His fingers moved—barely a shift, just enough to press the pad of his thumb along the inside of your thigh, skimming the thin lace of your panties with a featherlight drag that made your vision blur for a moment, your teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek to stop a sound from escaping.

Sue kept talking, mercifully, unaware of the silent war happening beneath the table, and you tried to nod along, tried to pretend you were still following the story she was telling about something at the foundation gala last week, but Reed’s hand was still moving—so slowly, so wickedly gentle, fingers drifting along the edge of the fabric like he was memorizing it, teasing it, learning every soft line of you with nothing more than a ghost of touch and that insufferable, unreadable look in his eyes.

You were blushing so fiercely now you were sure it had reached your chest, heat blooming down your neck like a fever, your knees squeezing together reflexively beneath the table as your breathing turned shallow, chest rising and falling in a way that did not feel casual anymore.

“Are you hot, honey?” Sue asked suddenly, concern returning to her voice, her eyes flickering to your cheeks. “A house full of so-called geniuses and we still haven’t figured out how to fix the aircon properly. I’ll be back—I’ll check the thermostat.”

And before you could answer—before you could find any response at all—she stood, placing her napkin neatly beside her plate and disappearing down the hall with a rustle of fabric and the click of her heels.

The door hadn’t even shut all the way before Reed finally spoke, low and calm and just for you, his fingers still resting against the soft, soaked curve of you beneath your panties.

“You’re doing so well,” he murmured, voice a dark, honey-dipped whisper that sent shivers straight through your bones. “Don’t stop now.”

“Reed—” you stammered, your voice cracking under the strain of your own name trembling on your lips, barely more than a whisper, a breath caught halfway between panic and disbelief, your thighs squeezing together out of instinct, out of desperation, out of need you didn’t yet know how to name. “What are you—”

He didn’t lean in.

He didn’t move closer.

He didn’t even blink.

He simply sat there, on the opposite side of the table, one elbow resting near his wine glass, the other arm subtly stretched beneath the surface like a quiet secret unraveling in the dark, and his voice, when it came, was soft and low and steady.

“Tell me to stop.”

And as he said it—calm, impossible, infuriatingly composed—you felt it: the cool air against your skin, your panties slipping down your thighs with a slow, torturous grace, peeled away by a hand that wasn’t even near you, stretched from across the table, precise and gentle and unspeakably brazen. The fabric caught just slightly at your knees before his fingers nudged it past, and you sat there frozen, wide-eyed, red-faced, with your dress pooled neatly over your lap and nothing beneath it now but heat and humiliation and the thundering pulse between your legs.

“Reed—” you breathed again, barely able to shape the word, and his gaze met yours in that maddening, quiet way—no urgency, no shame, only that still, measured calm that made your insides tremble, as if he was watching a reaction unfold under glass.

And then—

Sue's heels clicked softly on the polished floor as she entered the room again, moving with that effortless, elegant grace as she crossed behind you and returned to her seat.

“That should fix it,” she said lightly as she sat, her smile warm and unbothered, her tone casual as if nothing had changed in the few moments she’d been gone.

You turned toward her, your face flaming, your smile shaky and paper-thin as you tried to find your voice again, tried to stitch together whatever pieces of yourself hadn’t yet dissolved under Reed’s hand, which now rested high on your bare thigh like it belonged there.

“Thank you,” you managed softly, the words nearly catching on the breath that refused to sit still in your chest, and somehow, impossibly, you held her gaze.

And across from you, Reed Richards—calm, brilliant, monstrous in his control—simply took another sip of wine.

You tried to focus, truly you did—on Sue, on her words, on the soft clinking of silverware and the gentle thrum of jazz somewhere in the background—but all of it became nothing more than a blur of light and noise the moment his fingers moved again, slow and purposeful, the stretch of his arm impossibly seamless beneath the table, as if he could command every tendon, every muscle, with surgical precision.

He didn’t even shift in his seat, didn’t look down, didn’t so much as twitch, and yet—you felt him, truly felt him now, his fingers slipping between your thighs with exquisite control, brushing over your bare, trembling core with a deliberate slowness that made you forget how to hold your breath steady.

And then—he pushed.

Just one finger at first, and it was too much, because it was him, because it was stretched impossibly long and thick, curling up with inhuman ease, reaching deeper than anyone had ever dared, pressing into you like he already knew exactly where to go, what you needed, like he’d studied your anatomy and had all the answers memorized.

Your thighs tightened automatically, knees trembling under the weight of holding in a sound you very nearly let out, and your hands clenched into your lap, the wine glass beside you forgotten, your whole body alight with the unbearable tension of being touched like this—open, pulsing, absolutely undone—and doing nothing about it.

And then—

“Why don’t you explain to Sue what we went over the other day,” Reed said smoothly, as if he hadn’t just buried his finger inside you under the dinner table, as if he wasn’t slowly crooking it up to find that sweet, aching spot that made your stomach twist and your eyes nearly flutter shut.

You froze.

“What?” you whispered, blinking at him.

He offered a slight tilt of his head, his eyes resting on yours with a look of calm expectation—amusement, even—and then shifted his gaze to Sue, who was looking at you with the kindest, most open smile, entirely oblivious.

“The resonance collapse formula,” Reed said helpfully, voice steady. “She corrected one of my assumptions about it earlier this week. She’s sharper than she lets on.”

He curled his finger again.

And it took everything in you not to cry out.

You blinked rapidly, your lips parting around a breath that wasn’t quite a word, trying to remember the theory, the math, the basic principles of language, but all you could feel was the stretch inside you, the thick, gentle press of him moving in slow, unrelenting circles, coaxing you open without haste, without apology, without shame.

“I—” you started, your voice embarrassingly thin, “we—uh, we talked about—about the resonance curve failing at the threshold of—”

He added a second finger.

Your breath caught so hard you coughed, the burn of it tight in your chest, and you reached for your water like it might ground you, like the coolness of the glass could balance out the unbearable heat pulsing between your legs.

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Sue asked again, concerned.

You forced a smile, shaking your head quickly, eyes wet with the effort to look normal, to act normal, when Reed’s fingers were pushing deeper now, stretching you in a way that was obscene, careful, perfect, and somehow managing to keep the rhythm slow and steady, barely moving, just enough to make you drip helplessly onto his knuckles under the table while you tried to describe a physics principle with your body unraveling second by second.

“I’m okay,” you managed to whisper, voice too soft, too high.

Reed’s thumb brushed upward. You jolted. He smiled—just slightly.

“You were saying?” he asked gently.

You wanted to cry. Or scream. Or crawl under the table and never come out.

Instead, you looked up, cheeks flushed, throat tight, and murmured, “We adjusted the decay rate curve based on the harmonic threshold failing beyond point-six-three, and—and recalibrated the control conditions to reflect a more dynamic waveform—”

His fingers pressed up, deep, and you gasped—but you made it sound like awe, like wonder.

Sue beamed at you. “That’s amazing.”

You blinked, barely nodding, and Reed—still untouched himself, still seated like a man entirely at ease—just gave you the faintest smile across the table, like he was proud of you. Like you had passed some unspeakable test.

You weren’t sure when it changed—when Reed’s fingers, once so slow and exploratory, shifted their rhythm, no longer teasing but deliberate, their movement suddenly quickening beneath the tablecloth, each stroke firmer, deeper, more precise, curling up into that one devastating place inside you with the kind of methodical expertise that only a man like him could possess.

His thumb pressed again and again against your swollen clit in quiet, unrelenting circles, and it was obscene, unbelievably obscene, because he was still sitting across from you, back straight, shoulders calm, expression thoughtful and polite as Sue continued her story—talking about an ambassador, or a charity gala, or maybe a speech she gave—and you couldn’t hear a single word of it.

Because you were about to come.

Right there. At their dinner table.

Your thighs were trembling beneath the fabric of your dress, your body pulled taut like a string about to snap, nerves alight and burning in every limb, and you could feel it rising, fast and hot, building in your belly like a storm, spreading up through your spine with every practiced motion of his hand—stretched from across the table, long and dexterous and hidden beneath the soft, quiet clink of silverware.

You were soaked, dripping, pulsing around his fingers, and he knew. Of course he knew. He could feel every flutter, every desperate little squeeze your body gave him, and when he looked at you—really looked at you—his eyes burned with a satisfaction so soft it felt like praise.

You tried to hold it back. God, you tried. Your nails dug into the fabric of your skirt, your breathing shallow and uneven, your lashes fluttering as you ducked your head and bit into the back of your hand, trying to hide the sound, trying to bury the moan that threatened to rip itself from your throat. You were right on the edge, hovering there, helpless, when—

DING!

The sound of the oven’s timer rang out sharply through the kitchen, perfectly, cruelly timed—at the exact second you broke apart, your body shuddering around his fingers as the climax hit you so hard and fast you saw stars behind your eyes. You muffled the moan with your hand, trembling violently in your chair as you faked a cough so sharp it made Sue look up, concerned, just as she was standing to go check the dessert.

“Poor thing,” she said sweetly, already halfway out of the room, completely unaware of what had just happened right beneath her nose. “Let me go grab the cobbler—Reed, didn’t I tell you to turn on the vent fan for the oven? It smells like caramelized sugar in here.”

You barely managed to nod, your breath still stuttering in your chest, the taste of your own bitten-down moan lingering in your mouth like smoke, your vision wet and dizzy as you tried to collect yourself—but it was impossible, completely impossible, because Reed was still watching you, still calm, still composed, still seated like nothing had happened at all, as though his fingers hadn’t just coaxed your orgasm from you with the kind of precision that only a man with endless patience and supernatural reach could possess.

And then—he moved.

His hand, the one he had just pulled back from beneath your dress, rose slowly from beneath the table, casual, unhurried, and with the sort of smooth detachment that made your blood run hot all over again. You watched—helpless, horrified, entranced—as he brought his fingers to his mouth, his expression unreadable but his gaze never leaving yours, and then—

He licked them.

Just the tips. Just a quiet, deliberate motion—his tongue flicking out to drag across the pads of his fingers with unbearable slowness, like a man tasting something rare and sacred, like someone who savored knowledge, savored reactions, savored you—and your breath caught so hard it made your throat ache, your hands clenched in your lap, body still trembling beneath the table.

And that was the exact moment Sue walked back in.

The tray in her hands held a golden, bubbling dish still steaming at the edges, a pitcher of vanilla sauce tucked beside it, and she moved with the same easy grace she always had, placing the dish gently in the center of the table as the scent of caramelized fruit and butter filled the space.

“Was the sauce that good?” she asked with a light laugh, glancing over just in time to see her husband finishing his little motion, his fingers slipping from his mouth like it was nothing at all. “You just licked your fingers like you hadn’t eaten in days.”

Your entire body tensed.

Reed—calm, collected, horrifyingly composed—didn’t blink. He didn’t flinch. He simply tilted his head toward her, then turned back to you, his eyes locking with yours across the table, his gaze heavy with meaning, with memory, with the weight of what he’d just done to you, and said, without a flicker of shame—

“Delicious.”

Your stomach dropped. Your cheeks flamed. You looked away instantly, your eyes darting toward your lap, toward your empty plate, toward anywhere that wasn’t him, your skin hot and crawling with mortification, your thighs pressed tight together under the table, still slick and tender and sensitive as hell, and now—now you had to eat dessert.

With him. With her. With the taste of your orgasm still on his mouth.

☄︎₊˚⊹☆

You said your goodbyes to Sue as sweetly and shakily as you could manage, your voice still thin and breathless from the quiet ruin Reed had left you in, the remnants of your orgasm still echoing in your body like a pulse you couldn’t calm, and still—still—you smiled, you nodded, you played the part of the polite, well-mannered girl who had not just come in silence at the dinner table. Sue hugged you lightly at the door, warm and soft and lovely, thanking you for coming and saying how nice it was to meet you, her words kind and sincere, her smile so genuine it made you ache.

“We’ll have to do this again,” she said gently, her voice carrying no suspicion, no awareness, only the comfort of a woman who’d welcomed you into her home and truly meant it.

“It was an honor,” you murmured, your voice barely more than a whisper, eyes lowered, fingers nervously wrapped around the strap of your bag, heart pounding loud and unrelenting in your chest.

Reed appeared behind you then, as if summoned by the rhythm of your exit, and without saying anything, without asking, he moved to walk you out, his hand resting lightly at the small of your back—a simple gesture, one that should’ve been harmless, innocent, but that felt anything but, especially after what those fingers had just done to you beneath a tablecloth in the dim golden light of a family dining room.

The door clicked shut behind the two of you, and the hallway beyond was quiet, cool, and still, a soft hum from the city beyond the glass, but the silence between you buzzed with something thicker, darker, more intimate than you could bear. He said nothing at first, only walked beside you with slow, unhurried steps, like the moment hadn’t already been branded into both your bodies, like he hadn’t watched you fall apart with your hand over your mouth while his wife got dessert.

At the door to the elevator, he stopped, and you turned toward him, still too flustered to meet his eyes, still trying to hold yourself together with trembling fingers and shallow breaths, your lashes lowered as you whispered, “Thank you for… dinner.”

His response came after a pause, his voice smooth, impossibly steady. “You were perfect.”

You froze—eyes flicking up, breath catching—and found him watching you with that same calm, unreadable expression, but there was something beneath it now, something warmer and darker and dangerous, the ghost of a smile at the corner of his mouth that made your knees weaken all over again.

“Good girl,” he added softly, low enough that only you could hear it, and the elevator doors opened behind you with a soft ding, cool air spilling out into the hallway like a breeze that didn’t belong.

You stepped inside on trembling legs, unsure if you remembered how to breathe, and as the doors began to close, you looked back—just once—and there he was, standing exactly as he had before, his hands in his pockets, head tilted ever so slightly, still watching you, like you were a puzzle he couldn’t wait to take apart again.

And when the doors shut fully, sealing you into silence, your hand finally flew to your chest.

Because you had just survived dinner. Barely. And you weren’t sure you’d ever be the same again.

☄︎₊˚⊹☆

let me know your thoughtssss

[inknopewetrust]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚌 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Summary: When fate forces abilities upon you, adjustments are made to roll with the punches. It’s only when living with a lover who spontaneously combusts and yourself being an unpredictable icebox that life’s pleasures become a little bit more complicated.

Johnny Storm x Fem!Reader [wc: 4.0k]

warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut. p in v, oral (blow job + hand job), and no, no body parts are frozen or burn in this fic—that’s a different kind of story.

Quick Links: Masterlist

Someone once told you that the power you’d received was not only a gift, but an extension of something inside of you. A trait that hovered below the surface and only emerged in its truest form because of the rays.

You argued that it couldn’t have been right.

But then you thought… maybe, just maybe, you were actually a little cold. Not a stone cold bitch but close to it if a person got a little too big in their britches to make assumptions about people you loved.

Yet you didn’t feel completely like one—especially not when the warm hands of Johnny were feeling you up.

“Johnny,” you whined as the bubbling sauce on the stove fought for your attention.

His rough hands smoothed over your sides. Gently playing with the fabric of your shirt, Johnny’s fingertips slid over your skin, across your stomach to hold you tight. His lips found purchase against the column of your neck.

To breathe you in, to nip at the skin in a wish to mark you for the world. What scandal, you imagined: a beloved hero with love bites from the hot-headed heartbreaker.

“What?” He played at his innocence. “I won’t distract you.”

You huffed. “Of course not. It’s like you’re never distracting to me, at all… like ever.”

Against your neck, his smile grew wide. Johnny’s nose traced a line upwards to your ear, lingering beside it and threatening to sway you as he rocked his body from side to side.

“Never,” he whispered dramatically. “Just pretend I’m not here.”

He nipped your earlobe playfully. Your neck contracted, sending a fit of your arms trying to push him away but the effort was moot.

“Johnny,” you pressed again as the sauce’s bubble burst in the pot. The remnants of the explosion sent droplets of red across the countertop and to the spoon lodged in it.

“I’m not here remember.” His hands slowly removed themselves from your body and it was no different to you than losing a limb.

The warmth that escaped you was instant—something new and welcome upon your return to Earth. For you, the constant chill was an uphill battle when the air conditioning became too cold or the winter’s approached with warning. The frigid temperatures extenuated your problems while the heat only seemed to blossom Johnny’s.

Ying and Yang, two sides of a coin, the most obtuse of afflictions were a new river to navigate.

You didn’t think dealing with cosmic powers was what the “next step” in your relationship was going to be.

First it was setting the bed ablaze in a fit of passion. Then, it was the glass of his bedroom windows freezing over and bursting from the rapid cold. There was once an incident in the lab that left some lab coats singed and another where the sofa was defrosting for days.

A cleaner had to come into the apartment and get the wet fabric smell to disappear.

Reed and Sue didn’t have these problems. Ben… well… it was difficult to adapt to. But you and Johnny? You still tried even if it always ended in a little bit of disaster.

“I’m trying to cook here.”

Johnny moved away from you as asked and leaned up against the counter behind you. His hands spread out beside him, fingers searching for something to fiddle with as his intentions to ravish you were becoming too difficult to subdue.

“Trying, is the key word. But I appreciate the effort.”

“Hey!” You exclaimed, rightly offended by his comment. “At least I even try to cook. If it weren’t for me, we’d be starving or eating your cereal scraps when everyone is gone.”

“H.E.R.B.I.E. can also make a mean dish,” he reminded you. “And then we would have time for… other… activities.”

You looked over your shoulder at him. “Is that all you think about?”

“No.” He plastered a fake smile onto his face. “I also think of the universal hierarchy but every time I bring it up—“

“—someone always shuts you down,” you finished.

“So, yeah,” he nodded. “Right now I am thinking about how much I really, really wanna do some really, really bad things to my lovely girlfriend but she is far too busy cooking to pay attention to me.”

“Oh…” Your voice dragged out comically. Johnny’s knuckles rapped against the counter. “You’re not getting enough attention, is that it?”

He wasn’t wrong, per se, just exaggerating. Seven months ago, everyone on the Marvel-1 was suddenly struck by the most inconvenient of special abilities when Reed piloted the ship through a cosmic storm.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to find out that Johnny, being a blazing body of fire and you, a body infused with ice, were unable to figure out a way to make the intimacy of your relationship happen without something going wrong. Yet you both tried anyway—often.

Johnny blew raspberries behind you. Your hand fiddled with the temperature. The flame on the stove shrinking as the timer on the oven was set to seventeen minutes.

“I don’t need attention, I just want your attention.”

“Awe,” you fostered. “That warms my heart, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He looked down at his feet, not budging from his spot.

With the food balancing out and calming in the kitchen, you felt the moment ascend upon you. He’s here, you’re both alone, no one to burst in on you to ruin the moment.

You pivoted in your spot. Johnny’s eyes flicked up, watching your deft fingers undoing the apron around your waist. He loved the way it pinched you; shaping your figure to show off every curve and inch he sought out. You weren’t a fabulous chef, and he didn’t want to force you to show off those skills, but he adored the look of it. Domesticity, a home you’ve built alongside of him. He knew you’d feel the same if he tried to bake you a cake… even if it’d be burnt at the end of its timer.

For two scientists, it was a wonder how you were both so bad at it.

“You know,” you started conspiratorially and the blue in his eyes seemed to illuminate. The wavelength you remained on hadn’t changed in the incident. “I think we have a little bit of time.”

No faster had the words come out of your mouth and he was across the space and attached to you in an instant. His lips fell onto yours with a start; heady and bereft of contact. The sensation was panicked for time. He couldn’t waste a second, neither could you. If you did, then maybe it would all disappear again and you’d both have to start over. Johnny would wake again with the urge to tease, you’d wade in the water of accepting it or trying it out yourself.

But a part of you was done trying. Ice be damned. You loved Johnny and fuck, if you wanted to blow him or let him rail you to the goddamn moon, the powers would have to step aside.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, nails raking the base of his skull where his hair laid short. The thrill of your touch sent shockwaves through his system. It alerted every sense, igniting a plume of heat where he needed, missed, you the most.

The sweats he wore gave everything away. The sloppiness of your kiss paved way to distraction. Johnny’s blood rushed to his cock like a tidal wave. The cotton fabric tightened and looked to him to relieve it with a tug. With each break of your kiss, you moved closer to feel his excitement grow.

The mere thought of you wanting to feel him getting hard was enough for him to get there.

“Going well so far,” Johnny murmured between kisses.

Don’t jinx it. God, please don’t jinx it.

You glanced back at the timer. Ten minutes.

“I think we’ve got time for one thing.”

Looking back, Johnny couldn’t refuse the doe-eyed plea you gave him. He hated not pleasing you first. A part of him wanted to object out of clear morals—it wasn’t how your relationship had ever functioned, it was bordering on something new. However, everything was new now.

It had taken four months to return to Earth after the storm and now, three months of being home with the powers has been all about saving the world, brand deals, and being the perfect “hero.”

“Sweetheart,” Johnny began but you shushed him with a single finger. Those nails ran across his chest, soothing the realities of what dangers may arise between you both.

“Let me,” you begged. “I like it, I do. I want you to feel good too.”

“And you? You know I can’t leave you like that.”

“There will be other times. Just let me blow you and then we can have dinner.”

Johnny’s head tilted backwards in disbelief of your brashness. When it returned upright, his hands cupped your face carefully. He held you as if you were made of glass. The glint was unmistakable in his eyes. They shone so brightly, big and enraptured.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“I don’t know,” you joked, smile too big to conceal. “I think it was your nerdy charm but you’re pretty cute too.”

He planted a kiss softly on your lips before the music behind your eyes changed the melody of your intent.

Your lips pursed. His eyes flickered to them as his own remained reddened and bruised from the sear of your kisses. You lifted one hand, its fingertips, to your lips and let the saliva gather into your palm. It slid quickly, rushing you to act as you cupped it expertly and brought your hand to the soft elastic band of his pants.

Fuck, Johnny thought, you’ve ruined him for anyone else.

Your wet fingers brushed the light spattering of pubic hair before molding along the curve of his dick. He was so fucking hard. With your spit, your hand glided along to the tip. Johnny was leaking and he’d barely been touched for a few moments out of sheer desire for you.

It mixed with your spit well. The pulse of your hand rocked his shaft with even strokes; both hands occasionally joining in knowledge of his preferences. Johnny didn’t mind you stroking him tightly, he enjoyed the pressure and release when your hand let go.

“You see why I can’t live without you that long?” He laughed in awkwardness.

You eyed him, watching as his cheeks grew red and the stuttering in his chest became pronounced.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’ve barely made it past third base.”

With the length of him in your wetted palm, you stroked him from base to tip and over again. Your palm gave way, thumb pressing into the tip lightly as it worked over and set rhythm. His slit leaked in loose dribbles; collected by your thumb to be smeared down his shaft.

Johnny’s jaw tensed. The strain from his teeth bore down on his jaw while he held his breath in his chest for too long. He breathed out loudly, groaning when he touched his face to yours. Feeling him hot and heavy in your palm buckled your knees. A frenzied need abandoned your stoic nature and sent you to the floor in front of him.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’ve barely made it past third base.”

With the length of him in your wetted palm, you stroked him from base to tip and over again. Your palm gave way, thumb pressing into the tip lightly as it worked over and set rhythm. His slit leaked in loose dribbles; collected by your thumb to be smeared down his shaft.

Johnny’s jaw tensed. The strain from his teeth bore down on his jaw while he held his breath in his chest for too long. He breathed out loudly, groaning when he touched his face to yours. Feeling him hot and heavy in your palm buckled your knees. A frenzied need abandoned your stoic nature and sent you to the floor in front of him.

Johnny’s hands looked for somewhere to sit and cradled the crown of your head gingerly. You pulled his pants down just enough for his cock to spring out at the tug. He was harder than he had ever been in his life. He could barely stand the pressure of his blood concentrated there. Johnny had never needed you this badly before. At the return of your hand, your hands curled around him while your lips assisted beside them.

You licked one long stripe up the base of his cock and he saw stars. Galaxies upon galaxies floating in his eyes as you orbit his pupil with a self-satisfied grin plastered into his vision. Your lips parted, taking him into your mouth far enough to make the spit that gathered there to escape the sides. And then you looked up at him.

He swore his heart stopped beating. Yours was going a million miles an hour while his was going a billion.

“Holy shit,” he moaned with a chuckle. “I love you so fucking much.”

You take him a bit deeper and the sentiment grows. Johnny doesn’t press on your head enough to guide you, allowing you to take the wheel of his pleasure and enjoy what you were providing. You pulled back from him, releasing him with a lewd “pop” before stroking him with what was left behind.

“I love you,” you replied.

“I don’t think you realize how much, sweetheart. You’ve got my heart on another planet right now.”

“Well now you know what you do to me, lover boy.”

“Lover boy,” he scoffed. “I’m not lovin’ anyone but you from here on out.”

“Good,” your lips returned to the tip of his cock so full of blood it was almost purple with a bruise. “But you’re my lover boy so I can call you that forever.”

“Sure thing, baby.”

You were smug with reward as the seconds inched further to his orgasm because it meant that you’d done it. Finally. A god-forsaken time where neither of your powers had gotten in the way of finishing in intimacy.

Johnny’s hands remained on your head, barely restraining himself from pushing you down further on his dick. His hips, however, shallowly thrust every time you’d take him back into your mouth. The sounds you made forced the blush to return to his cheeks. Each pass you’d take closed in on the back of your throat. Tongue flat, inviting his straining cock to the very last inch you could take.

You choked but didn’t let up. His hands attempted to lift you up, give you that relief but you swatted them away as you held yourself there. Your nose could smell the scent of his soap—he’d just showered for you—and the light trace of your spit. The salty traces of him on your tongue was intoxicating.

You’d all but forgotten about the food in the oven and on the stove.

“I’m not gonna last very long if you keep takin’ me that deep.”

With a start, you gagged at your will to speak. Johnny grinned from ear to ear.

“You did not just try to talk with my dick in your mouth.”

You kept up pumping him with your fist as your mouth freed itself. “Laugh about it all you want but I still have your dick in my hand.”

“And it feels great, keep it up.”

“Oh you…” your eyes narrowed, challenging him from below as his hands gently caressed your head in appreciation.

“But you know what?”

“What?”

“I really don’t want to cum down your throat.”

“Charming,” you flatlined. Your hand slowed its pace and all he could think about was getting your pants off and fucking you silly against the kitchen counter.

Everything was perfect. It was a little sloppy, unprepared, and back to the way it was. This felt normal and simple. It felt like seven months ago when you whispered sweet nothings into each others ears the night before you left Earth because of the “just in case” scenario of never returning.

Johnny’s hand tightened around yours as he helped you to your feet. You staggered, losing your footing with a laugh while he held onto you. His hands shifted along the sides of your waist to rub you up and down in comfort.

“We’ve got this,” he affirmed with a nod. His blue eyes searching your weary ones as the premise of a future finally moving forward was promising.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “We’ve got this.”

Reaching one hand to your face, his thumb traced your bottom lip in remembrance. He envisioned the night before you left—every breath and hesitant mark made to forgive any wrong doings and assurance that there was something to return to after a risky, experimental chance.

“We might be different now but we will always be the same,” he admitted honestly. “How I feel about you has never changed.”

Your eyes were glassy. “I love you so much.”

“You have no idea,” Johnny whispered.

He kissed you again with that promise. The pull of his fire, that of your ice, were nothing against the foundations of what made you stand.

Johnny guided you against the counter, peppering kisses along your shoulder blades when the counter pressed up upon your waist. It dug into you sweetly. His fingers undid the button of your pants and slid them, with your underwear, to your knees. His foot appeared between yours and guided your legs a little further apart.

“This alright?” He asked tenderly. His head came to rest on your shoulder enough for you to turn and look at him. “You ready for me or…?”

“Lover boy,” you mused. “You might miss your chance if you wait so long.”

You were more than ready for him. Always were, always would be.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He grasped his cock in his hand and rubbed his length along your slit. You were wet—far more than he thought you would be but you hadn’t lied, you did enjoy pleasing him. He used what you left and what he gathered to lubricate himself. Johnny lined himself up, breathing hard as he watched your fingers clench on the edge of the counter and your head leaned against his chest.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured to you as he pushed the head of his cock into your pussy. “You’ve got me. I know you’ve got me.”

The tightness was rousing. You squeezed him in; expanding to take his girth and pushing back against him to accommodate his length. An arm wrapped around your waist for support while the other firmly planted itself on your hip. You missed loving each other like this.

“F-fuck,” you grunted. “Goddammit, Johnny.”

“Why’s it always me?” He quipped. “You’ve got the tightest pussy I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

“Charming,” you repeated as he retracted enough to keep his head inside before pushing back in. “You’re so charming.”

The stretch of his cock was delicious. Your ears caught the sound: the snap of his hips to your body, the sounds of your friction sending spasms up your spine.

“And I should say only pussy I’ll be in till the end of time.”

You nodded against his chest. “That’s more like it.”

Johnny hummed, refocusing to the motions. His cock was deep, kissing your cervix with pleasure as the simple thought of Johnny watching himself disappear from below your ass was making you wet. You started to imagine how much dirtier it could get for you.

What if there was a mirror? You could watch him rail you from behind and grope your breasts with his large palms. Dinner was almost done. Handcuffs would be a pleasant surprise. Johnny, tied to the bed and zoned in on you bouncing on his dick without an option to touch you. Dinner was done.

Johnny’s cock drove into you relentlessly. Never ceasing for a break, he hammered his hips into you against the countertop enough where you knew there would be a memory imprinted in hazy colors on your hips. But it would be a reminder of this success. You’d done it. Truly beat the powers. Dinner was really fucking done.

“Oh shit baby,” Johnny hissed as his hips started to falter. “What’d you need from me? What do you need?”

You could barely think of what you needed. Every inch you took from him was accelerating a path to the feeling you missed. It was building, stepping toward the sky in insurmountable numbers as his hips swirled.

“Clit,” you ordered succinctly.

Johnny’s finger flew to your bud in record speed. He always had the best luck with his middle finger, so he pressed down and made quick circles that left you stuttering.

“Faster.”

Your shoulders lurched but you didn’t finish. Both of you were almost there. You could see the light, feel it starting to peak around you when the sudden smell of rancid burning began to overtake your senses.

Dinner was burnt.

Dinner was on fire.

“J-Johnny,” you sputtered out his name yet his cock kept finding its way back inside of you. Your hand left the counter rapidly and slapped at his arm wrapped around you.

“Johnny, fuck,” you barely got out. “Dinner. The goddamn dinner.”

“Yeah,” he breathed heavy, “we’ll eat in a minute.”

“No,” you swore. “It’s on fucking fire. The dinner is on fucking fire!”

“Wha—“

Before either of you could come to a complete stop and figure it out, the fire alarm screeched throughout the apartment. Reed had reprogrammed it to sense a real fire after one or two inside incidents that you may or may not have been a part of.

“Shit!” Johnny spat.

As he went to pull out of you, the world seemed to freeze. Arriving at the speed of light, H.E.R.B.I.E. came flying from his sleeping place with its alert system blaring as loud as the fire alarm.

But H.E.R.B.I.E had eyes.

H.E.R.B.I.E had a soul.

“Oh my—“ you didn’t have time to form the full thought before your arm reached out into the robot’s direction and the wheels of its small body went rigid.

The fire alarm stopped.

H.E.R.B.I.E was silent.

And the smell of a burnt dinner now lingered in the background.

Johnny kept his hands on you as he tried to keep you titled sideways and out of the general direction of H.E.R.B.I.E even if your hand was outstretched. He was breathless; awestruck in the moment.

H.E.R.B.I.E was frozen like a brick of ice and the trail of a white, frosted over landscape appeared from the stove, to H.E.R.B.I.E, and across the hallway. The bots eyes were preserved in a state of shock—or perhaps that is what it always looked like.

Nevertheless, H.E.R.B.I.E was right there.

You’d have to erase its memory chip before the others arrived back home. It was staring right at the both of you: forever imprinted on that one spot, eyes locked in on the scene.

“You killed it,” Johnny spoke first. “I think you killed H.E.R.B.I.E.”

“I didn’t kill it!” You exclaimed too defensively. But your pants were at your ankles now and you were literally leaking onto your legs. Fuck.

“Is H.E.R.B.I.E looking at us?” His voice got lower, quieter as he looked at H.E.R.B.I.E suspiciously.

“I don’t know.” You didn’t. It was hard to tell.

Johnny nodded in assurance to himself before patting your bare waist. He stepped back, kneeling down to gather your underwear from where they combined with your pants before pulling them up one by one. It wasn’t ideal but he knew the options the two of you had: make a bigger mess of things or fix what’s happened.

Sex could wait another day.

You let him redress you. Johnny made an effort to turn you around, buttoning your pants for you and pulling your apron back down over the lower half of your body. He shoved himself back into his sweatpants and even if you could still see the outline of his arousal, Johnny didn’t press.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized out of disappointment.

“It’s not your fault.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and placed his lips on your forehead. You filled his embrace readily.

“But we did it… kind of?”

“Yeah,” he smiled proud. “We fucking did.”

A/N: Johnny is literally everything to me. S/O to @uzmacchiato for the beautiful animated dividers. If you’re a writer and looking for ways to make you work a little bit more flashy, check out their work!!

p.s. sorry for traumatizing herbie. took one for the team here.

p.p.s. all writers love to hear from readers and it’s the one thing I love more than anything. Thank you for taking the time to read this!

[munsonsmixtapes]

One of Our Own

Johnny Storm x fem!reader

summary: You decide you want to have a baby with Johnny when you see him playing with Franklin.

cw: MDNI (18+) smut ( p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) breeding kink

Laughter fills the living room where you sit with Johnny, Reed, Sue, Ben, and Franklin. Johnny is holding Franklin as you all make conversation with one another and you can’t help but stare at him. You’ve always wanted children and right here and now, you’re sure that you want to have Johnny’s baby. 

It gets to a point where you have to turn away before your thoughts consume you. You’re both always so careful in the bedroom, trying to prevent pregnancy and you’re not entirely sure how he would feel about actually getting you pregnant right now. You’re actually very sure because you always agree that you want them eventually. 

You wonder if he’ll let you take him back to his place and do unspeakable things to you. You need him so bad that you’re starting to ache between your thighs and he needs to take care of it soon or there will just be a huge mess. 

Johnny knows something is up with you, but he can’t quite put his finger on what. You’re antsy and he’s wondering if you maybe had too much caffeine. You did have three cups of coffee the entire time you’ve been there and he’s thinking maybe that he should cut you off. He doesn’t want to go another night where you don’t sleep. He would hate that for you. 

Reed has suggested that the five of you play a game, but you need to get Johnny home right now and you haven’t had a chance to discuss why you’re acting so strangely. After agreeing to stay for games, he moves to sit next to you after he hands Franklin off to Ben. Your hand lands on his thigh as you scoot closer, your thighs touching. 

“I need you,” you whisper in his ear.

“I’m right here,” he tells you, only understanding what you mean when he pulls back, your eyes boring into his. “Sorry guys,” he turns to face everyone else who’s on the opposite side of the living room. “But y/n’s stomach is upset. I hate to cut this short.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Sue says as she stands up from the couch, following you both to the door like the good hostess she is. “Feel better, y/n,” she tells you as Johnny helps you put on your coat. As you head out the door that Johnny is holding open for you, Sue hands him some leftovers from dinner while leaning close to her brother so you can’t hear what she’s about to say.

“You’re not as slick as you think you are,” she tells him with a glare. “I’d come up with a better lie next time.” With that, she ushers him out the door and slams it in his face when she sees he’s about to try to defend himself. He just shakes his head and helps you get into the car like the gentleman he is. 

He’s definitely going way over the speed limit but he doesn’t care. He probably needs you right now more than you need him, which didn’t seem possible. Those damn pants that you’re wearing have been torturing him all night and he’s very much looking forward to ripping them to absolute shreds as soon as he gets you into the house. He wants lie you on your bed and fuck you until neither of you can take it anymore. He wants to make a mess-to absolutely violate you. His mind is racing with impure thoughts and he’s surprised that he’s able to get you both to your house in one piece. 

You don’t even make it upstairs, your lips on his as soon as you’re in the house and he’s backing you into the living room. Clothing is flying as you undress each other and when you’re both in your underwear, you push him onto the couch, unhooking your bra as you do so. 

Your panties follow and he’s gotta take a second to look at you-to admire the woman who, for whatever reason, chose him. He doesn’t know how the fuck he got so lucky but never takes you for granted. 

“Fuck, I love you,” he sighs. 

“I love you too,” you reply, wondering how you’re going to tell him that you don’t want to use a condom. There was only one time where you didn’t use one and that was only because you were drunk and neither of you could get the packaging open. “I was thinking…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I saw you with Franklin tonight and it got me thinking…what if we have our own baby?” His eyes widen and you get worried that you’ve fucked everything up. 

“A baby?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Honey,” he pauses and you hold your breath, “I think that’s an amazing idea.” You finally breathe and all either of you can do is smile about the decision you’ve just made. He kisses you again and again as you slide off his underwear then get on top of him. He’s pounding into you as you ride him, the most filthy things he’s ever said coming out of his mouth and that’s making you even more wet. Your hands are scratching down his back as moans pour from your mouth, only encouraging him even more.

“God, you’re gonna be so hot,” he says, his nails digging into your hips, yours scratching down his chest. “I’m gonna lose my mind just thinking about it.” Your pace picks up and he follows, both of you moving so fast and hard that the couch is shaking underneath you. 

“Well, you’re going to be a great dad,” you reply. “I just know it.”

“Shit, sweetheart, are you trying to make me cum?” 

“Yeah, baby, that’s kind of the point,” you laugh. You both move even faster and just by the look on Johnny’s face, you can tell that he’s close. He just needs a little more and then he’ll get there. A few more thrusts from him and he’s at his peak. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whines as he’s coming, fully seated inside you and you can practically feel him in your stomach. You both stay there as he comes down and then you grab a damp washcloth to clean yourselves up. Once you’re done, he carries you up the stairs where you both climb into your bed, snuggling up to each other just like you do every night. You go to sleep with smiles on your faces, hoping that not long from now, you’ll be showing him the positive test.

part two

[shortnfreaky]

Aw man imma need a Johnny Storm x Reader where he tries to tell everyone about the alien language thing but no one listens to him except y/n please 🙏🏼

ೃ⁀➷ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ ⋆·˚ ༘ * ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

a/n: keep sending these requests people, absolutely infatuated with johnny rn

warnings: fantastic four: first steps spoilers, suggestive ending but no actual smut, reader is mentioned to have powers, johnny being an irresistible menace per usual

masterlist ✶ requests are open!

Always By My Side

"Guys!" Johnny exclaimed, speeding into the lab where the rest of you were sat.

Nobody heard him, or maybe they did and were just ignoring him. "Guys!" He says again, standing in front of you all now.

You turn to look at him, taking your attention off of Reed's rambling in front of his chalk board, "What is it, babe?" You ask.

"I did something, you guys need to come see this." Johnny rambles, clearly caught up and excited in whatever it was that he's done.

"Not now, Johnny. We're kind of busy here." Ben tells him.

Sue nods, readjusting Franklin on her lap, giving her brother an apologetic smile, "Sorry Johnny, Ben's right though."

Johnny lets his arms fall to his sides, a sigh escaping him, "Alright." He mutters before walking out of the lab.

You let your eyes follow him as he walks out, a slight frown on your face. "I'll be right back." You tell Sue, excusing yourself as you leave the room. You make a beeline towards yours and Johnny's room, knowing that's probably where he's at.

You slowly creak the door open, stepping in slowly before clicking the door shut behind you, "Babe." You call, seeing Johnny sitting in the arm chair, headphones on. There's papers all over the floor, he takes his headphones off, looking at you. "What did you figure out?" You ask. Johnny smiles at you, getting out of the chair and urging you to sit down. You oblige, as Johnny grabs his space helmet, "Okay, put this on." He says, helping place it over your head. Once he has it on you, he flips the visor down, pressing a few buttons to show you the video of that mysterious silver alien that the helmet had captured.

It was quick video, it was Johnny asking what she had said to him a few weeks prior in her own language. She responded, telling him what it meant, then the video ended. Johnny quickly took the helmet off of your head. He unplugged the headphones from the record player, playing you the audio of her language that Reed had captured before this all went down. You looked at him quizzically, "So what does this mean?" You ask.

"I've been listening to all of these recordings over and over again." He pauses, coming to kneel down in front of you, "And, I've been working on trying to translate everything. I finally did, I've figured out her language." He speaks.

You grin at your boyfriend, "Johnny, this is incredible. We have to tell the others."

Johnny shrugged, "Well, they didn't seem to take me very serious."

You stand up, pulling him up with you. You rest your hand on his cheek, "I think they're just worried, we all are." You say softly.

He nods, "I know. I just wish they'd take me seriously here and there. They just think of me as Johnny. Johnny who loves women, Johnny who's mischievous, Johnny who isn't smart."

"You are smart, Johnny. You just translated a whole unknown silver, naked alien language." You scold lightly.

Your boyfriend just smiles at you, "Thank you." He pauses, "Thank you for taking me seriously, for always being by my side." Johnny whispers, letting his hands rest on your hips as he pulls you in for a kiss.

"Always, Johnny." You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Jesus, I love you so much." He murmurs, pressing your foreheads together.

"I think you're going soft on me, hotshot." You laughed.

Johnny raised an eyebrow, "You sure about that?" He asked, that boyish grin on his face.

"Yeah." You whispered.

"Guess I got to prove you wrong then." He grinned, picking you up bridal style, throwing you onto the bed as he hovers above you.

"Johnny!" You giggle, "I promised Sue that I'd be right back."

"Hmmm..." Johnny pretended to think, tapping a finger on his chin, "Nope, don't think so. Think I gotta keep you right here and show you how much I love ya'."

You shook your head lightly at his antics, "Guess I can't say no to that."

"I know, I'm irresitiable." Johnny murmured, bringing his lips to yours again, slipping his tongue in. You sighed into it, quickly flicking your hand to lock the door with your powers, before wrapping your arms around his neck.

[taleofharrison]

Not leaving you | Johnny Storm x gn!reader

Summary: it is the last chance to save the Earth, the last chance to be with Johnny.

Warnings: Fantastic Four First Steps spoilers. I started writing this as female reader but checking it I realized it is very neutral, let me know it that's not the case.

A/N: My first time writing reader insert fanfiction in three years since Eddie Munson graced our screens, Joseph's characters are the only ones who get me writing this kind of fics lol. Anyways, enjoy.

Navigation

You entered Reed's lab after all the hard work from people all around the world and the nights saving energy, the day of putting the plan into motion was finally here, what would be the craziest idea ever thought by anyone in the world was about to become a reality, an idea that would save the Earth, your world, from Galactus.

"Where's Johnny?" you asked Ben as you approached him, your boyfriend had been working on translating the Silver Surfer's language and it was taking a lot of his time which you understood, in this context it was important you just wished he would take some time off.

"I don't-" Ben was about to answer when Johnny finally graced you with his presence in the lab.

"I got it!" Johnny celebrated, he looked so happy and proud of himself, he didn't even think as he reached out for you kissing you softly "babe, I've go it."

"Johnny sit down, now's not the time" Ben told him dismissing him "it's the Fantastic Four not the Fantastic Three, remember?"

Johnny and you took your seats next to Ben, checking that all cities and countries were ready to put the plan into motion and hiding successfully from Galactus, all the effort the entire world had put was finally going to see its results.

"Copy, Lisbon" you confirmed "that was the last city."

It seemed like it was actually going to work everything was going smoothly when the Silver Surfer appeared and began destroying all the bridges, like they were nothing.

"She's coming for Franklin" Sue realized when the last standing bridge happened to be the one in New York City.

"Lock the building now!" Reed reacted quickly protecting his son and family.

"Hey, where's Johnny?" Ben asked noticing that your boyfriend was no longer in the room.

Next thing you knew Johnny was talking to the Surfer who you now knew used to be known as Shalla-Bal and all about his deal with Galactus, Johnny came back defeated after an unsuccessful negotiation.

"Maybe we could bring Galactus here" Reed suggested "bring him to our only bridge and send him into the universe with away from us, it'd be impossible to get back to us without a spaceship"

"And how do we get Galactus near the bridge?" Ben asked.

"Using something Galactus wants" Reed replied, everyone knew he meant Franklin. Sue was the only one who dared to say it out loud, much to the entire family's dismay.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

"Do you think this will work?" You asked Johnny back in his room, he was holding you close your head on his chest "I mean plan A seemed bulletproof and we are improvising a plan B, where your one month old nephew is playing one of the most important dangerous part."

"Hey" Johnny spoke softly "I don't like this either but it is what we got, and I'm going to try my hardest to save the world and get back to you in one piece ok?"

You nodded "I'm scared".

It was the first time since the Surfer announced Galactus that you admitted it out loud, but Johnny knew. He knew you better than anyone in the building, he saw you gain his family's and the city's trust after working for so long with Sue since before they go their powers. Johnny was the love of your life and you were his often getting recognized on the magazines as the one who "tamed him down".

"I know" Johnny sighed "I love you."

"I love you too" you replied "and I'm also very proud of you, translating all those messages and learning an entire alien language."

"It had to be done" Johnny shrugged as if it was nothing "you would've done it in half the time."

You hummed cuddling more into him, he was kissing your head assuring you everything would be alright that you had a future ahead, that you had nothing to worry about.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

The following day it had been decided that the city had to be evacuated after getting an agreement with Mole Man buses started transporting all civilians to his underground city Subterranea.

"The last bus is leaving soon" Johnny mentioned you casually as you help elderly people and other people aboard one of said buses.

"And?"

"What do you mean "and"? Johnny seemed offended "you have to leave."

"I'm not leaving you" you told him, like it was an obvious thing "it is our last night before Galactus come and you are crazy if you think that I'm going to spend that night without you."

"Y/N you cannot be serious right now" Johnny exploded "it is not safe for you. You don't have any powers, I need to know you're safe."

"And I need to spend tonight with my boyfriend" you replied not backing down "it's been decided and you guys might need me. I've worked in some missions with you guys and I..."

"...and you are leaving the city" Johnny finished for you "H.E.R.B.I.E is staying with us anyways just please listen to me, I can't lose you."

"So what? I'm just supposed to accept that my boyfriend is essentially going up against a space god and I won't spend what could be his last night with him?"

Tears were in your eyes at this point, Johnny closed his eyes at the outburst. He knew the risks, the team knew the risks. This had become the biggest threat they had ever faced and he couldn't blame you for the outburst, he was near to having one himself wanting nothing but to hold you and never let you go.

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you stay" Johnny whispered "just leave please...for me."

Johnny was begging at this point, you could see the desperation in his eyes, the worry, the love.

"Fine" you finally accepted "I'll hope on the next bus, but you better come back to me."

"You know I always do"

[unterdans]

contempt

johnny storm x ex-gf!reader

summary: You and Johnny dated briefly in college. Things ended when he got his powers and his whole world changed. When Sue asks you to tutor Franklin, you come back into each other's lives.

content warnings: reader with fem pronouns, no use of y/n, reader is referred to as "doc" or "professor," lovers to enemies to lovers, some hurt, mostly fluff :3

wc: 3.9k

a/n: as you can see, i got carried away with my first fic here/written in... five years! sorry if it's ooc, i've only seen the new movie once so far! please enjoy-- it'll be up on ao3 in the near future.

“If she should make tender of her love, ‘tis very possible he’ll scorn it; for the man, as you know all, hath a contemptible spirit.” - Don Pedro, Much Ado About Nothing

You had met Johnny in your third year at Harvard when he was in his fourth year at MIT. Things flowed easily between you two. Your romance was fast but tender. Past his cocky first impression, Johnny was caring, softer than butter, and toothachingly sweet. On the nights you spent together in your apartment curled around each other in your bed, he would read whatever was on your nightstand until you fell asleep in his arms. 

Then came his graduation.

You were proud of him, of course, but also scared of what would become of your relationship. He was moving to New York to work with his sister and while that wasn’t horrendously far, you knew it would put a strain on the easy, light, sugary thing you had going. You had met Sue, her husband Reed, and Reed’s best friend Ben when they would come to visit Johnny. They were all nice in their own ways, but you weren’t close enough with any of them to voice your fears about Johnny. Was what you had serious enough to inconvenience him? To inconvenience you?

When he left, you both swore up and down that you would write to each other and call in the evenings when you had the time. And at first, you both did. Johnny wrote as much as he talked— about his sister, about New York, about this space trip he and his family were selected to go on. 

The letters and the calls stopped when he came back from space. Everything changed: his DNA, his job, his whole life. What would you two even talk about anymore? You were just the nice girl from his old life. It hurt like hell but you pushed on, finished your English doctorate the following year, and moved to New York yourself. 

For unrelated reasons— for opportunities, of course. 

You got a teaching gig at a university uptown, settled down, made friends. You didn’t forget about Johnny— how could you when his face was on literal billboards? But the ache of his leaving was just that: a dull pain in the back of your mind that you didn’t consciously think about most days. Most.

But sometimes, when the hum and glow of the city punctured your closed curtains, the loneliness hit you. He was out there, without you, a new girl on his arm every few weeks. What you had didn’t mean anything to him. 

Two years passed in the comfortable rhythm that had become your life when you received a letter in a pale blue envelope at your office mailbox. It was from Sue. Although only two years old, Franklin’s intellect was developing at a rapid pace. Of course he was surrounded by the most brilliant scientists on Earth, but they wanted him to have a well-rounded education. When it came to literature and history, the Fantastic Four were aware they lacked the same prowess they had in the various sciences. Yes, Sue was a renowned diplomat. Yes, Reed had solved teleportation. Yet neither of them had read any Shakespeare beyond Romeo and Juliet. Long story short, they were looking for a tutor and her first thought had been of you, “that brilliant girl we met in Cambridge, in a different life.” She invited you to the Baxter Building Friday to meet Franklin.

No, was your first thought. That would be entirely too much. But how could you say no to this opportunity, to the goddamn Fantastic Four? Maybe Johnny wouldn’t be there. You doubt he hung around the penthouse with his nephew all day. He probably had interviews to do, magazines to pose for, and whatever else came with being America’s heartthrob. So you sat at your desk and wrote back to Sue with shaky hands.

Yes, of course. It would be great to see you again and to meet Franklin.

Your students came and went, asking for help, extensions, book recommendations. As they did, you only had Friday on your mind.. When your office hours were over, you mailed the letter, hesitating before the mouth of the mailbox. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, tutoring the Fantastic Four’s fantastic toddler.

Rather than dragging by, the week sped headfirst towards Friday. As one of the younger professors at your university, you got stuck with the undesirable Friday morning lecture slot. For once, it went by quickly. Too quickly, because the next thing you knew you were in the Baxter Building elevator. You prayed as it trudged upwards that Johnny wouldn’t be there. You could do this if your contact with him was minimal.

The elevator jolted softly when it reached the penthouse floor. Even before the doors opened, before you stepped out of the shaft, you could hear the strained voices.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” The last time you heard that voice was over the phone. Back then, warmth exuded through how tired he was. Now his words had a fiery edge to them, burning you.

“I didn’t think it mattered to you, Johnny.” Sue, ever the diplomat.

Panicking, you step heavily to announce your presence. Thank god for loud heels.

“Oh, come in—”

“Give us a minute!”

Sue and Johnny’s voices mixed together in the high-ceilinged echo. You decided to listen to Sue and tentatively stepped out of the elevator and onto the landing. Blue and orange toys littered the contemporary carpet. Your eyes were glued that way for a few seconds, hesitant to look up. When you did, Johnny was already looking at you. Fuck. Franklin had been in his arms but he now handed the toddler back to his mother. Johnny looked sharply back at Sue, a soft scoff coming from his perfect mouth.

He stormed out of the living room and onto the balcony. He glanced back at you and saluted to his sister before lighting his fire and leaping into the sky.

Sue turned to you. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

You swallowed, trying to regain your composure. “It’s fine! If my being here is a problem at all—”

She smiled at you in that dazzling, comforting way of hers. “Not at all. He was just caught off guard.”

You nodded in understanding. “This handsome guy must be Franklin!”

Talking to Sue and getting to know Franklin had a sense of ease to it. On the part of the Invisible Woman, it nearly felt like you were picking up right where you had left off. Although her whole world had changed— not only with her new powers and her role in international politics, but with her son as well— she was the same earnest and intelligent woman you had briefly known those years ago. She listened to you intently as you discussed the curriculum you had come up with. She seemed to respect you, despite how things had fizzled out with Johnny.

Franklin was a wonder, his intelligent eyes sparkling all over the room as he played on the floor, examining you from time to time with curiosity. Despite your initial hesitancy and awkwardness around Johnny, you were excited to take up this challenge. Having next to no experience teaching children didn’t make a difference— Franklin was far from normal. 

As the sun lowered in the sky, Reed and Ben returned from the lab. Both men came up short for a moment upon seeing, no, upon recognizing you. You were a ghost from their past, however briefly they had known you. You were Johnny’s ghost most of all. Besides Sue, they all reacted so strongly to seeing you that anxiety prickled your neck, worrying about what they thought of you. You took a breath to steady yourself and in that span of time, both Ben and Reed regained their composure and greeted you.

“Good to see you again,” Ben said when he shook your hand.

“Same to you, and to you Dr. Richards,” you said and turned to the shorter man.

“Just Reed, please,” he shook your hand for longer than most would. “Sue has been filling us in on your career since we last met.”

Your face flushed. “Oh!” was all you could squeak out.

“We have a lot of catching up to do, don’t we?” Sue said from the living room. “Would you be able to stay for dinner?”

Your face flushed further. Dinner with the Fantastic Four? Dinner with your ex’s family? Dinner with your ex?

“I wouldn’t want to impo—”

“It’d be our pleasure,” Reed assured you.

Sue came up behind you and put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Have you read James Baldwin's new book?” Ben asked. All the tension eased out of your shoulders. You could do this.

“I actually just picked up a copy last week,” you said.

H.E.R.B.I.E had started cooking while you were talking to Sue, so all that was left was to set the table and make some finishing touches to the meal, which Ben did eagerly. You chatted with the family about the political context and perspective Baldwin brought to his new work as you gathered around the table, waiting for Johnny. Five minutes passed easily, then ten. 

When he finally flew in from the balcony, he didn’t notice you at first. His eyes glazed over you, but not as if he were purposefully ignoring you. 

As if you belonged there. 

You blinked rapidly to get the thought out of your head. Johnny could have anyone he wanted, why would he be stuck on you? Normal, nerdy you.

“Sorry, sorry everyone. Flew upstate to clear my head and lost track of time.” He sauntered over to the table and took the seat across from you. Only when he sat down did he realize you were there. He stilled. Maybe this had been a bad idea.

“Wasn’t expecting you to still be here, doc.”

You scoffed lightly, it could almost be a laugh. Hardly anyone ever called you doctor, even if you did have a doctorate. “If you call me doc, I’ll have to call you the Human Torch.”

Ben laughed and it encouraged you until Johnny glared at him and spoke. “I could live with that.”

For such a hothead, he seemed to be icing you out. The rest of dinner was somewhat tense as the rest of the family asked you about your dissertation, the university you taught at, and your students. Johnny didn’t speak the rest of the time, which was both a relief and a concern. Johnny never shut up. Never. But tonight he sat like a kicked puppy across from you, his big eyes glued to his plate.

The deal you cut with Sue was to come Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons to teach Franklin. Most of these would end right before the family had dinner, so you became a regular at their table, much to Johnny’s chagrin. After two weeks of pouting, though, he seemed to at least accept that you’d be around for a while. 

At the end of the third week of having you around, Johnny was finally able to admit to himself that it was nice seeing you again. You were on his turf, which was remarkably different from when you two had dated. He never want to bring you to his apartment back then, because what if you didn’t love his space, his things, didn’t love him, like he—

But that was a lifetime ago. Everything was different now. When you never called after the space mission, it was clear to Johnny that you didn’t want to be part of his life now that he was… not normal. Imagine his confusion when Sue told him you were coming to tutor his nephew, the least normal child in the universe. As you sat at his family’s dinner table multiple times a week, his confusion only grew. You treated them no differently than you did three years ago. To Johnny, it didn’t seem like it registered to you that they were celebrities either.

So why did you never call?

“You’re on fire, Johnny,” Ben said, gravelly but cool. The rest of the table looked at Johnny with surprise; he never put his flame on at the dinner table and had gained complete control over it… or so they thought. The torch himself looked down at his hands in surprise and extinguished them. He realized with embarrassment that he had been staring at you and warped his fork with his heat.

“Are you feeling alright?” you asked. 

Why did it have to be you who asked? The worst part of all was the genuine care in your voice. Your eyebrows knitted together in concern and it made Johnny’s heart stutter. He couldn’t reconcile this version of you with the one he had in his head: ashamed and distant.

“Johnny?” Sue brought him back to now.

“Should I get some water?” You asked him.

“No,” he said sharply, “I don’t need you to get me water.”

“Jonathan!” Sue scolded him.

“What does that mean?” you asked as he stormed to the kitchen with his plate, half tripping over H.E.R.B.I.E.

“That means I don’t need anything from you,” he said simply. “Ever.”

The room collectively sighed as he escaped to his room. Your face burned with embarrassment and hurt. “Ever.” Maybe you had hoped that things would change when you took this job. How foolish. Everything about him was different. Where was that sweetness, that softness you had known? Had it all burned away?

Sue, for one, had had enough. She knew her little brother and she knew you well enough to read how you both still cared for each other. Platonically at the extreme least. So she came up with a plan: the two of you could hardly communicate with each other, but if the rest of the team were to convince one of the other’s feelings, maybe, just maybe, you would come to a resolution. Back when you were both in college, you brought out the best in Johnny— enough that Sue could tell, even though she didn’t see her little brother often. His grades improved, he got in trouble less because he wanted to impress you. His motorcycle stunts and purported nonchalance had no effect on you, so he had no choice to bring out the real Johnny. And the real Johnny was refreshing to Sue.

The only problem Johnny had with an open floor plan was that it made it difficult to eavesdrop. Reed and Sue sat on the sofa just out of sight from the kitchen, behind the fireplace in the center of the room, discussing the seating plan for the Future Foundation’s upcoming benefit.

They seemed to have forgotten he was there.

“And the professor?” Reed asked.

“I’m not sure,” Sue said, humming thoughtfully.

“There’s an open space next to Johnny.”

The Human Torch swallowed his cereal and ate another handful, crunching quietly.

Sue chuckled. “I thought we wanted this to run smoothly.”

“She won’t know anyone else there,” Reed offered.

“She told me the other day that—” Sue lowered her voice enough so that Johnny had to focus to hear her “— she misses Johnny’s friendship. She’s professional, so she didn’t let on at dinner last week, but their exchange really hurt her.”

Johnny’s heart stuttered. He had been shoveling more cereal into his mouth but paused his chewing to listen.

“Why hasn’t she told him?”

“You know Johnny, Reed. Once he’s been burned, he doesn’t forget. And you’ve seen them interact enough— it wouldn’t go well. He’s too proud.”

Too proud? Is that what his big sister really thought of him? Of all the people, Sue knew him best. And apparently she knew him to be… unforgiving. He didn’t want to be that person— for her, for Franklin, for you.

Reed and Sue moved on from discussing you, and Johnny crunched on his Lucky Charms, lost in thought.

You arrived at the penthouse of the Baxter Building at three pm on the dot, like always. Johnny had made a point of leaving out the window when you arrived most days, but today, he sat with Franklin in the living room. You hesitated to come closer, but he noticed you and… smiled.

“Hi,” he said with a little wave. Your face must have betrayed your thoughts, because his grin turned sheepish.

“Is Sue around?” you asked.

Johnny shook his head. “No, sorry, she was called to present at the UN today. Seems you're stuck with me till Reed comes back from the lab.”

Anxiety crept up your neck again. You were not emotionally prepared for this. Shit.

“Okie dokie, then,” you said, mentally kicked yourself, and entered the den.

The lesson was brutal. Sue always sat in and it never bothered you, but Johnny’s gaze felt so heavy on you as you explained the act of Much Ado About Nothing you had just read with Franklin.

“Sometimes people that love each other have a hard time expressing it. Benedick and Beatrice were so wrapped up in what they thought the other had done wrong that they couldn’t realize how deeply they cared for one another.” Your voice trembled. When you lifted your eyes from your notes, Johnny was staring at you again. His lips were parted as if he were about to ask you something, but instead he looked away. Your heart raced for some reason— he had made his feelings clear, hadn’t he? Or…

“Shakespeare makes it clear that they have a history, but never what exactly happened. Perhaps even they don’t know and it was simply…”

“Circumstance.” Johnny finishes your sentence when you trail off.

“Exactly,” you breathe.

The elevator dinged and Reed entered the apartment not a moment too soon.

“Hello, professor,” he greeted you warmly.

“Hi, Reed.”

“Are you staying for dinner?”

“I was wondering—” Johnny interjected as he picked up Franklin, bouncing the boy in his arms, “—if you’d want to go out to dinner?”

“H.E.R.B.I.E.’s been cooking for hours already,” Reed said.

“Just the professor, Stretch, I see you more than I’d like.”

Reed rolled his eyes as he took Franklin from his uncle. You watched the two tentatively.

“So, how about it?” Johnny asked again. He rocked back and forth on his heels, hands in his pockets, the very image of a nervous little boy. His eyes sparkled in the low light, brows knitted together almost apologetically.

“Sure,” you finally said with a nod. Johnny grinned and legitimately cheered. Reed flinched at the volume of it. As the two of you walked towards the elevator, he pat Reed on the shoulder. 

“Sue and you are not that slick,” he whispered to Reed. “...but thank you.”

Johnny took you to a quiet restaurant that was only fifteen minutes from the Baxter Building. All the waitstaff recognized him and you figured he must bring girls here often. Nothing special was going on here, surely. You were intrigued, though, by the fact that the restaurant was a little worn down. It wasn’t flashy, like you expected Johnny Storm’s date spot to be. In fact, it occurred to you as you sat down across from him, none of the tabloid pictures with his various flings featured the checkered tablecloth the establishment was very fond of.

“First of all,” he started as he poured you a glass of wine, “I’d like to apologize for being… well for being an ass these past few weeks.”

You shrugged. “It’s been weird for me, too. Apology wine accepted.”

He laughed as you brought the glass to your lips. “You’ve changed a lot since Cambridge.”

At that, you raised an eyebrow. “Your DNA was literally restructured. You’ve saved the universe. I’m the same person you knew then.”

“No, you’re not. You’re— you’re more mature. I mean, you’ve really made a life for yourself and I’m proud of you. I haven’t changed much besides being more… of an uncle.”

You laughed lightly and he giggled along with you.

“You’re the only person I’ve ever met who was born to be an uncle, Johnny.”

“It’s a good fit, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

He looked lovely like this: lit by warm candleglow, eyes darting between you and the table, his leg bouncing anxiously. Johnny similarly marveled at the way you leaned in close to listen to him, the way your eyelashes fanned across your cheek when you laughed, how you nervously fiddled with your hair.

He swallowed his pride and finally asked you.

“Why did you never call after the space mission?”

You perked up at the question and he watched as a wave of sadness rolled over you. A pit dipped in his stomach at the sight of how you turned inward, how you withdrew from him. You looked at him like he should know the answer already.

“It was clear life had more in store for you. I didn’t want to hold you back from that. I was just me and now you were a hero. When you never called, I thought it was because you had moved on. Because you had changed and now I was too regular.”

As you spoke, your eyes drifted towards the flame between you two, gaze becoming distant as you remembered those feelings at their most raw. When you looked back up at Johnny, his face was stricken.

“I thought… you never called because you didn’t want to be with someone like me. That you didn’t like the changes I— we— had gone through.”

“No, Johnny, of course not. It’s quite cool, actually.”

“Fantastic, even?”

You laughed and rolled your eyes. What a cornball. 

Dinner came and went pleasantly, mostly talking about music, but Johnny laughed unprompted while you shared dessert.

“What?” you asked. 

“Nothing,” he tried to dismiss it.

“No, tell me!”

He put his spoon down and leaned back in his seat. “We’re just a couple of idiots, that’s all. This whole time I thought you didn’t like me, you thought I didn’t like you, meanwhile I never stopped caring about you.” He didn’t dare to speak on your behalf.

“I never stopped caring about you, either,” you breathed. Your hands prickled with excitement. 

“See? A bunch of idiots, you and me.”

“Mostly you.”

“Mostly me.”

When you left the restaurant, your hand dangled near Johnny’s, begging him to hold it without saying a word. Your fingers bumped once, twice— he finally got the hint and laced your hands together. Sometimes your strides would become unsynchronized, but he’d make a point of slowing down to match you. The air felt charged between you two, now that everything was revealed.

“I missed this,” you hummed.

“I missed you, pretty girl,” he said, pausing in the street. You took this moment to embrace him. He didn’t respond at first, stunned, but then hugged you tighter than he ever had. Your cheek pressed against his warm chest as if it were meant to be there. Johnny pulled away first, but only to look down at you, admiring. One hand snaked up to brush hair out of your eyes.

“Is it too soon to ask to kiss you?” he whispered.

“We’ve been waiting a few years, haven’t we?”

He chuckled at that. “May I?”

“Of course.” He leaned down to kiss you— so chastely it almost made you laugh. It was fucking sweet, how gentle he could be. When your mouths met, they weren’t hungry or desperate but full of steady longing. In your previous relationship, things had been fast and intense. A perfect match marching towards its inevitable fizzle. This? This was a hearth you could build a home around.

thank you for reading! let me know what you think :3

dividers by @saradika-graphics.

[lnfours]

LIFELINE | JOHNNY STORM

MAJOR PLOT SPOILERS FOR THE FANTASTIC FOUR: THE FIRST STEPS UNDER THE CUT! PLEASE CONTINUE READING WITH CAUTION!

summary: after defeating galactus, johnny realizes something, and he has to get it off his chest immediately.

warnings: quinn!johnny storm x reader, friends to lovers!au, mention of sue’s resurrection scene, mentions of fear of being alone, johnny being johnny, language, a little teeny tiny bit of angst, fluff and him being 100% down. fucking. bad.

— 💌 message from jordan: i know this isn’t my usual content, but the marvel brain rot has come back after seeing f4 and i simply can’t get johnny out of my head 😅 if you guys like this, maybe ill write some more for marvel again! anyway, i hope you guys love this as much as i do! it was super fun to write :)

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the soft yellow glow of the lamp on your nightstand illuminated your bedroom, the tv on as background noise as you rung your hair out in a towel, clad in your robe. you padded back to the room, sitting on the end of the bed and watching the news reporters cover their newest story.

“— and thanks to the fantastic four, the citizens of new york can sleep peacefully in their beds and be surrounded by their loved ones tonight knowing we are now safe from galactus.”

you reached back for your phone, tapping on the screen to see if any new messages came through while you were in the shower. the sight of a blank lockscreen made you frown, tapping to your messages to see if they had even been seen by him.

hey, saw the news. you okay?

delivered, 9:10pm

with a huff you tossed your phone back on the bed and walked back to the bathroom, grabbing your skincare products from the drawers. just as you were about to wash your face, there was a bang outside the room, forcing a jump from you. you furrowed your eyebrows, slowly tiptoeing back to your room.

when you turned the corner, the bright glow of yellow and orange now lit up your entire room. you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding, walking towards the window and undoing the lock to let him inside.

“johnny, what the hell!?” you turned around as he climbed in through the window, “i texted you! i saw the news and i texted you and you never answered and…”

you trailed off when you finally turned around, taking in the man who stood in front of you. his face was wearing an expression you rarely saw. a look of guilt and sadness, mixed with a hint of fear. his hair tousled from the wind, his baby blue eyes heavy and bloodshot. your movements froze.

“i uhm- i saw your text,” he said, taking a deep breath, “sorry i didn’t respond, i just… i wanted to see you. in person.”

“what’s wrong?” your voice softer now as you padded closer to him, now feeling guilty for raising your voice at him. but damnit, he scared the hell out of you.

“i watched my sister-“ he closed his mouth and looked off to the side, his eyes finding the cityscape outside the window as he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. his eyes met yours again after a moment, a stray tear rolling down his cheek as he looked at you, “i watched my sister die and then magically come back to life,”

you furrowed your eyebrows, “what?”

“i don’t— i don’t know,” he sighed, flopping down onto the edge of your bed, “she was pushing galactus towards the bridge and it was too much and she…”

he paused for a minute as you sat down, your hand reaching out to his shoulder to comfort him. he took a deep breath, “i mean, reed checked her pulse and everything. she wasn’t even breathing. and then when reed put franklin on her chest to say goodbye, that’s when she came back to life,”

“i’m sorry,” you said softly, eyes soft as you scanned his features, “that’s… a lot.”

he let out a humorless chuckle, “yeah,” his eyes shifted to look at you, the whites of his eyes still slightly red, but you could tell they were still hiding something.

you had always been the one to notice that sometimes, no matter what his mouth said, his eyes said something different. they couldn’t hide the truth from you. no matter how hard he tried, he was an open book to you. completely vulnerable. a side not everyone got to see, but you were lucky you were one of the few.

“you’re sure that’s all that’s bothering you?”

damn it to hell.

he blinked, sucking in a breath and suddenly the air felt different. it felt heavier. like there were unspoken words between the two of you.

“it’s stupid, really-“

“johnny,” you watched as he stood from the bed, suddenly finding interest in the new york night sky once again. you tilted your head, unconvinced.

“no really, i promise, it’s nothing. i’ll go to bed and wake up tomorrow and it’ll be in the back of my mind-“

“c’mon,” your voice was still soft as you stood behind him, “it’s me. you know you can tell me anything and everything, and its clearly bothering you, so please. let me help.”

he turned back around, “when reed tried bringing sue back, and even when she did come back, you could just see how much he truly loved her. how glad he was that his person was back, and it made me realize that i’m a compete fucking idiot. that i’ll never have someone to love the way he loves her, or love me the way she loves him, because i’m an idiot who's too scared to tell the woman i’m in love with that i love her.”

you felt your heart drop to your stomach. sure, johnny had mentioned the long list of women waiting to have their turn with him, but it was never anything serious. never something more than a fling here and there.

but you had always held a tiny sliver of hope that you’d be the one to make it all seem worth it to him. the relationship, the dates, the anniversaries, all of it. you had loved him for so long, wished for just a single chance on every birthday cake candle and shooting star, but you always knew the answer. it was no use.

or so you thought.

“you’re not an idiot,” you said through the lump in your throat, “it’s just unnatural for you. you’re used to the girls lining up to have shot, not the sappy feelings part. and it’s okay to be scared of it. love is scary. but it’s also really beautiful.”

“have you ever been in love?”

you sucked in a breath, ignoring the pit in your stomach. you said you wanted to help, but had you known it was going to be about this…

“once,” you nodded, “i don’t think he ever felt the same way. especially not now.”

he swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing before he spoke, “did you ever tell him?”

you shook your head before he asked another question, “do you regret it?”

he could see it in your eyes. he knew. he knew for a while now, or at least he thought he did, but now he really did. the way you watched him intently, the way your eyes stayed locked on his. you looked at him like he hung the stars in the night sky. like he had all the answers to your problems.

and he hoped he did. because you were the answer to all of his.

you nodded again, this time your heart rising to your throat as he stepped closer, “maybe you should tell him. i’m sure he’d like to hear it right now.”

you pulled your eyebrows together, “what do you-“

“you said it yourself, it’s scary but beautiful,” he said, “so tell him. and i’ll tell her.”

you tried to play it cool, “i don’t-“

“say it,” his voice was soft but pleading, “please.”

you took a breath, now realizing how close the two of you were all of a sudden. your tongue swiped over your lips to wet them as you let out a shaky breath.

“i love you, johnny.”

that’s all it took before he was pulling you in closer by your hips, pressing his lips to yours in a messy kiss. he kissed you like he was drowning and you were oxygen.

like you were his lifeline.

“i love you,” he mumbled against your lips when he finally pulled away, “i’m sorry-“

“you’re here now,” you shook your head, smiling as you took in the smell of his cologne underneath the layer of faint ash, “that’s what matters.”

he leaned down and kissed you again, this time he picked you up off your feet and spun you around, hands gently placed on your back as your giggles broke the kiss.

you wrapped your legs around his hips, hands clutching the burgundy material in your hands. he smirked down at you playfully, forcing a smile on your lips and a chuckle to fall from them, “what?”

“nothing,” he shook his head, placing your back gently onto the mattress, his body scaling yours. he was warm to the touch, always had been since the accident, “just, feeling really lucky.”

you ran your fingers through his blonde strands, “lucky?”

“lucky cause the girl i love never stopped loving me, never gave up on me, even when she should’ve.”

“i would’ve waited a million lifetimes for you, you know,” you confessed quietly, “as pathetic as it sounds,”

he dropped his head to yours, foreheads pressing together, “i don’t deserve you.”

“mm, yeah, probably,” you joked back as he let out a chuckle. his smile lighting up his face. his usual, ‘johnny like’ persona slowly creeping its way back in.

“wanna find out why the ladies call me ‘torch’?” he joked and you laughed, maybe a little too loud but you didn’t care.

“no one calls you that!”

“sure they do!” he argued back, a cocky smile still on his face, “y’know, in their dreams and fantasies or whatever.”

“maybe in your dreams, hotshot,” you mumbled before kissing him once again. his lips slotting with yours almost as perfect and intoxicating as the first time. his free hand cupping your face, thumb slowly caressing your cheek as he kissed you.

he was finally yours. your lifeline.

[earlgreylatte]

If I Get To Meet You

(Self Aware Marvel Rivals x Reader) When eyes begin to stare back at you from your screen, playing like an idiot has seriously gotten more embarrassing…

You weren’t a particularly dedicated or skilled player, but you enjoyed playing Marvel Rivals. It was fun to play as your favourite characters, and maybe getting kills was a bit invigorating. Even if the player base was stupidly annoying, you continued to rack up hours on the game.

Until you stopped, just for a couple of months, life having gotten in the way. You had nearly forgotten about the game until seeing people online rave about the newest update. After waiting hours for the game to update to the latest patch, you were finally logged back in.

But weirdly enough, the character on your home screen was no longer your main, but…Spider-man? Despite your fondness of the character, you knew better than to play the character, considering your own ability and the reputation of his mains.

“Look who’s finally back! Had a good time out there while we’re here trying to deal with a multiversal threat? Joking! But seriously, don’t disappear like that on me again…”

Woah, they got interaction quotes! That’s actually pretty cool, you think, excited to see what other lines you’ll encounter. A small part of you wonders how you’ve never seen any clips of this new feature online.

Things seem to get stranger once you actually start playing, but maybe it’s your fault for playing ranked. After selecting Invisible Woman (“Let’s show them how it’s done…together.”), you find yourself being pressured to switch to DPS rather than have three support. Which was rather unfortunate since you totally sucked ass at roles outside of support.

Before you could lament at how annoying Captain America mains are, your screen flickers for a moment before returning back to normal, but only now you’re playing as…Johnny!? (You can almost hear Sue’s annoyed complaints.)

You’ve barely played him, your team is definitely going to lose now…

“Why don’t you let me take a spin at it? You can just sit back and look pretty, which should be more than easy for you—“

Okay, this definitely isn’t normal, but right now you’re more concerned about Torch diving the back lines solo while your supports are still in spawn.

“What are you doing!? You can’t win a 6v1!”

“Don’t mean to sound like Spidey, but O’ ye of little faith…”

After horribly losing and probably getting blocked by your team, you promptly exit out of the game, despite Johnny’s protests. You are dreaming, that’s the only reasonable explanation you can think of. Maybe you need to leave, touch some grass or something. Pulling out something more presentable, you shrug off your shirt before freezing when a smug and disturbingly familiar voice rings out.

“Woah, seem to have caught you at a, well, honestly good time…”

Figures Ironman would be a pervert, considering his go to move was humping anything that moves (“the actions of other players do not represent me, frankly that’s just character assassination.”).

After trying to sleep the oddities off and checking any game related discussion, you concluded this wasn’t some prank from the devs, which is probably the worst case scenario for you. You tried deleting the game, but the file stubbornly remained on your hard drive, the only thing you gained being Bucky’s surprisingly soulful eyes staring at you with disappointment.

Knowing you wouldn’t trash your PC despite the creepiness of the situation, you quickly accept your fate of having to live with a possessed? Lucid? Fuck ass game taking over your computer.

Honestly, it isn’t horrible. Maybe a little annoying when Johnny or Clint hijack your screen to harass you into playing, but mostly tolerable.

The support characters always remind you to hydrate or rest, already invested in your wellbeing to the point they send Jeff to stare you down.

Bruce, Peter, Reed, and Tony always pop out to guide you in any PC related issues. They mostly talk over each other and regress into an argument on who’s actually helping you, Loki stopping by only to instigate them, but you appreciate the sentiment.

Ultron might be the most disturbing, wordlessly appearing on your screen and closing all your tabs and applications when you try to switch off the game.

Loki is the most annoying, constantly opening and closing windows, deleting some of your files, and trying to jumpscare you anytime you do something work related. He even kept himself as your locked character, much to everyone’s annoyance.

If you ever find yourself feeling down, Ben, who usually tries to give you space, pops up to give you a pep talk and lend you an ear.

Clint, Bucky, Frank and Marc have all, on separate occasions, forced you to practice your aim, sometimes becoming frustrated enough to hijack your control mid match, only to tease you afterwards for needing ‘some extra help’. You tried to delete the game again.

Emma is currently blocking you from getting the game’s latest update, more than happy to prevent Jean from entering the game, with the other characters not too dismayed at that.

“It’s honestly crowded enough as is, so you don’t mind, do you, darling?”

Despite the arguments and the unwanted alarm clock/schedule notifications everyone insists on giving you, things aren’t so bad. Sure, you’re barely able to play for a minute before control is taken away, but your tier’s never been higher!

Bitch is more concerned about their win rate than the lucid characters😭

Did you guys see how the dvd bonus files for ‘The Incredibles’ are trending after 20 years? The one hero that looks like cyclops is pretty hot. Lore, man.

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