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scarletmika · 20 days ago

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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

READ PART 2: The Wonder of Him : ̗̀➛ Johnny Storm x Reader

✧･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!

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.

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rebecca--barnes · 24 days ago

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munsonstorm · 26 days ago

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Childproof

my main masterlist

pairing: johnny storm x fem!reader

word count: 3.5k words

description: sue announces her pregnancy. johnny is elated for his big sister. but it makes you feel some type of way when you know he wants kids of his own. something you're not very sure you want.

warnings: 18+ content, MDNI, no spoilers for f4 really, no use of y/n, reader is 18+, established relationship, basically pwp, talks of use of birth control, reader is afraid of being pregnant, johnny is a menace, johnny the Dom, sub!reader, uses of "daddy" and "momma", heavy on the breeding kink, lots of dirty talk, unprotected sex, fingering, exhibitionism, creampie, no real aftercare lol

authors note: hey..... this came to me before i even watched the movie. i watched that one clip and was like yeah.... i'm horny. anyway. saw the movie, loved it and needed to write more for this doofus. also coming up with the title made me giggle. if you get it, lemme know. hope y'all enjoy!

how to help palestine ~ dividers by @saradika-graphics

Johnny knew how to get under your skin. He loved it.

You and Ben had just completed dinner, working for over an hour on perfecting his famous red sauce. Johnny had been bothering you two the entire time, pestering you specifically on how much longer it would be.

“We have dinner at the same time every night, Johnny,” You bite as you butter the bread. He did not let up, asking you to elaborate. He loved seeing your face get red and your lips opening up to let out a long sigh.

Once everything was plated and the table was set, you sat down at the table. You turn everyone’s forks and knives the right way as Ben sprinkles some more Italian seasoning over the pasta.

Johnny slams down in the chair next to you, a big box of Lucky Charms in his grip. Ben immediately takes note of it before you can even say anything.

“What are you doing?” He asks Johnny, his voice sort of small with a slight offense to it.

Johnny takes a handful of the cereal and dumps it in his mouth. “What do you mean, what am I doing?”

You peer at him, annoyed, already on edge with him today. He had been extra irritating today after you rejected his morning advances. You swore the man needed you for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

“You are going to ruin your appetite,” You say, grabbing the box from him. His bright blue eyes rolled to the back of his skull as he dumped the rest of the handful he had into his mouth.

“‘M hungry, baby.”

You grit your teeth, ignoring the question Ben had posed about Sue and Reed being late to dinner. Everyone always arrived before the set time, and by the looks of it, they were about 5 minutes late. You check your small watch front, humming a response. You hear some footsteps from across the living room, and see the two of them looking like they just got caught with their hands in a cookie jar.

“You’re late,” Johnny shouts to them, dusting his hands off over his clean plate. You grit your teeth. Why was he like this?

Reed and Sue stop dead in their tracks.

“What, uh, what do you mean?” Sue poses, slowly walking forward to her usual spot at the table. Johnny rolls his eyes again, and you silently plot how you could get away to stab him with your fork.

“What do you mean, what do I mean? You’re late for dinner,” Johnny explains, pulling his napkin into his lap, just like you taught him. Took him years to figure out how to prevent so many stains on his clothing until you came around and completely changed his entire world.

Sue and Reed go into an elaborate explanation as to why they took so long, but you sensed a shift. Reed never had a good poker face, his big brown eyes giving him away immediately.

Ben noticed, too, because he shot you a look.

“Why are you being weird?” Johnny asks, noticing their behavior to be rather off.

They go into more word vomit, and you cannot help but let a smirk spread across your face.

Ben quips up, “Are you pregnant?”

Sue’s face instantly shifts into a smile as she lets out some air from her nose, “Yeah, I’m pregnant.”

She and Ben stand up together, hugging one another in celebration. Reed gets up as well to join in on the embraces after he rattles off some weird and awkward gestures towards a flabbergasted Johnny. You shift out of your chair, grabbing him for a hug, whispering excited congratulations.

Johnny is sitting there completely astonished. “What? Really?”

You all look to him, still seated at the table. Sue nods, giving him a confident ‘yeah’. And then the celebration gets even bigger, with Johnny slamming his hands on the table. You are still half hugging Reed, slowly pulling away, watching Johnny lift his sister in the air, and telling her how great of a mother she would be. When he grabs Reed, he tells him how he’s going to be out of his depth. He’s always one to pull something mean out of the depths of his mind to lay into Reed. You pat Reed’s shoulder, whispering to him to ignore his jab.

You hug Sue and tell her congratulations. She gives you a squeeze, thanking you. Johnny grabs onto Ben as you pull away, “We are going to be the best uncles ever!”

You giggle, enjoying the excited look on Johnny’s face. He may be more thrilled than anyone else here.

After Johnny got his powers, you two decided it was probably best not to have children. With every scientist you know telling you it would be fine to have a mutant’s baby, you were still unsure. Even Reed had brought up the possibility, and that’s why he and Sue had given up on it for a while.

You did not know that they never really wanted to give up trying.

But you had done some semi-permanent things to ensure you would not get pregnant by your needy, insatiable boyfriend. Birth control. A small little pill you would take every morning with some orange juice and toast.

It had worked for the year that you two had been together, and you were confident that you would not have to carry his child until you knew 100% what you wanted to do.

But now a baby would be directly in your lives, and you had heard what baby fever can do to people. You were still sure you did not want a child, but the way Johnny is just blissful on the idea of having a nephew, you knew he would bring it up again.

And you were right. Seeing his sister and brother-in-law beaming over the prospect of their future child made him envious. He always wanted a little Johnny, a little you, but he understood your hesitancy. He respected it, of course, but there was now a nagging voice in his head that said if he didn’t do it now, it would never happen.

Dinner is finished in less than an hour, and you and Johnny take up the responsibility of cleaning up with H.E.R.B.I.E. Mainly, it was you cleaning off the table and stacking dishes while the robot did the rest. You still liked to busy yourself with tasks, making yourself seem useful to the team due to your lack of superhero abilities. You were essentially just their publicist and managed their daily lives at home while they went off to save the world.

You begin to wipe up the dinner table. Johnny creeps behind you, his hands shifting over your waist. He loved seeing you doing domestic activities. You were so pretty in your blue half-sleeved top, tucked into some high-waisted black trousers.

“You do not need to be cleaning, beautiful,” He hums into your neck, pressing a kiss to your pulse point.

“Let me finish what I’m doing,” You demand, scrubbing off some sauce he had spilled off his plate. By the way his warm hands rested where your shirt rode up slightly, you knew what he was trying to do.

He could sense some tension off of you, but refused to move away from you, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing,” You lie, your mind still settling with the exciting news, “I am just tired, is all.”

“I think you’re lying, sweet cheeks.” He pulls your hips closer to him, his back against your shoulder blades, “Tell me what’s on your mind, hm?”

You could not lie much longer, “I’m more worried about what’s on your mind.”

He halts any more movements, using his grip on your hips to turn you around. He was not expecting such a response. You knew he would never pressure you to do something you did not want to do. So you must be referring to something else. “What do you mean?”

You shrug, your eyes shifting towards the floor over his shoulder before reluctantly returning to his piercing gaze, “You seem excited about the baby.”

He furrows his brows. You always thought he was always so painfully clueless when it mattered most. But the truth was, he did not understand why your response would be so bitter about his excitement.

His head shifts down towards you, “Of course, I am. I know how much Sue wanted it.”

You groan, throwing your head back. “Yeah, I know.”

You were starting to feel a bit dumb and dramatic about the whole thing. At the end of the day, you are excited for them. You like children for the most part, and it will keep the public off you and Johnny’s ass for 9 months. They won’t bother you about the timeline of your future child. Truthfully, you just hated the questions. There is almost a demand to produce the next generation of the Fantastic Four.

“Then what’s the big deal, beautiful? Why are you being weird about it?” His hands press into your hips in a possessive and needy way. You brush those thoughts off, knowing Johnny is doing it without even thinking twice.

But then the look he gave you during dinner started to enter your mind.

The longing.

“'Cause it’s only a matter of time before you start asking again.”

His hands still, “Asking for what? A baby?”

You slap his shoulders in frustration, “Yes!”

H.E.R.B.I.E takes his leave, knowing this could get heated quickly. He beeps his goodbye, heading down the hallway to the charging port that is set up for him. You grit your teeth, looking at Johnny’s silly expression, watching the robot roll away.

Johnny cannot help but play oblivious, now. After you clarified for him, his mind was now plotting the ways he could sidetrack the conversation. He knew exactly what you were saying, but it’s so much sweeter when you lay it all out for him, your bubbling frustration only gets him off. And you knew that, which only annoyed you more. You usually fought spelling it out for him, but with a conversation like this, you wanted to be explicitly clear.

He sighs, shaking his head dramatically. “Of course I want a family with you, baby.”

“Well, we can’t. Not right now.”

Johnny smiles knowingly, slowly slipping into that cheeky smirk he gives you when he lets you win an argument. “Well, yeah, I know that.”

“Okay, good.”

Hands slip down your hips, reaching back to your rear and palming the flesh, “I would never put that responsibility on you. You know that?”

He drags out his fondling, his fingers rubbing closer and closer to your crack. His hands are wandering to places he only touched you in private. You want to smack him away, but he feels so good, you refuse to bother to reprimand him.

“Yes, I know,” You squeak, your hands now wrapping around the nape of his neck to almost pull him closer. After rejecting him this morning, you spent most of the day regretting not lazing in bed with him until noon. That option was always on the table, but today you were adamant about getting work done. What an idiot you were.

“Good…”

His head dips down to trail kisses on your jaw, down to your pulse point on your neck. Your fingers rake through his blond locks, holding his face close to you. His hands do not stop moving, tracing the line where your ass meets the top of your thighs.

“You know what, though?” He ponders, his lips cresting the edge of your ear. He returns you to your previous position with a quick pull of your hips. Your ass is now pressed against him as your front half is practically folded over the white countertop. “It’s not stoppin’ me from acting like I can put one in you.”

“Johnny,” you warn, eyes fluttering close at the thought.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss right below your ear on your already sensitive neck, “Come on, baby. We can do it in a hypothetical sense.”

You breathe out a long sigh, knowing this was a terrible idea. You give Johnny an inch and he runs a mile. Even pretending he could get you pregnant felt like manifesting it. “Why, though?”

“Cause it’s hot to imagine,” He states, his hands traveling slowly between your thighs. You can feel him growing in his pants with the way his hips are practically melted into your backside, “Just thinking about fucking you full until you are dripping and full of my seed.”

“Johnny, please.”

“Oh, now you’re begging for it?” His hands warm up, like a reflex to get the truth out of you. Fingers spreading over your lower tummy as he lifts your top. You cannot stop the moans that leave your lips.

“No,” you try to say with an ounce of confidence. He just giggles, his teeth starting to toy with your earlobe.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” His hand dips under your pants, not even bothering with the button. “I’ll give you that baby I want so badly.”

His words are so filthy. They always were. But these ones held an odd amount of weight.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, feeling his fingers go past your panties and seeking out your soaked slit. Once his fingers slide between your lips, a choked-out gasp leaves his lips. His words were enough to get you this wet. It fuels his ego every time.

Your body jolts, hands finding a spot on the counter to grip onto. There’s nothing to grab onto, so you let Johnny take control.

“You would be so fucking beautiful pregnant, you know?” His fingers dip further into you, and you surrender, laying your upper body on the freezing marble. He fucks you slowly, dragging his fingers in and out of your wet center with precision, “God, I’m so fuckin’ hard imagining it. All round with my baby.”

His other hand pulls you upward, resting right where your womb is. You know how effective your birth control is, so you know his words are just words. But god, are those words making you a mess.

“Shit,” You gasp, practically out of breath as he toys with your hole, “I can actually see the appeal of these hypotheticals.”

“Yeah?” His nose bumps the shell of your ear, “You like imagining making me a daddy?”

“Jesus, Johnny,” You sigh, as his fingers pull out of you, the wetness of your core dragging up to your tummy. He finally pops the button on your pants and shoves them down around your ankles. Your pants were quite tight, so you decided a seamless thong would suit the outfit. Johnny thanks his lucky stars for your usually-dragging-morning-brain for being so brilliant.

“We are going to get caught-”

“Everyone is in bed,” He replies quickly, not letting you finish your thought. He’s already shoving his pants down with one hand still resting on your body. “Just let me do what you deprived me of this morning.”

“Deprived you?” you quip, turning to face him. He does not take kindly to your movement, grabbing your hips and pressing them into the edge of the counter again.

You hated to admit that you loved it when he dominated you in this way. He was such a playful presence in day-to-day life, but when the switch flipped inside him, you were like sand between his fingers.

His palm comes down, slapping your ass. “Behave.”

You bite your lip and nod, smiling at his actions.

“You would be such a good momma, you know?” He ponders, his right hand reaching down between you two. You feel his tip swipe against the skin of your asscheek, his precum trickling slowly down your flesh. His words send your brain into a tizzy. You wiggle in his grip, wanting him to sink into you already. “I’d get to see your tits even more than usual.”

You stop your movements, peering over your shoulder at him. The statement is almost so comically funny that you cannot take it seriously. “How does that even correlate?”

His face is deadly serious before that familiar grin creeps across his lips. He moves your thong out of his way, rubbing his cock between your sopping pussy lips, “Gotta feed the kid somehow.”

You close your eyes, letting out a depraved sigh. You can feel the smile on his face as he sinks into you, his length taking up every inch of your pussy. You squeeze him briefly, trying to adjust to his size.

“So tight. Relax a bit, honey.”

Johnny is always warm, so in turn, so are you. Especially when you fuck. The moment his hips shift inside you and he drags his cock in and out of you, you break a sweat. Even the coldness of the counter could not cool you down as his body hangs over you and completely overtakes your space.

Johnny may be hot, but your cunt was even warmer. It was like his own personal drug. He would spend the rest of his days buried inside you, listening to your desperate whimpers as his hips snapped into you.

“Faster,” You urge, wanting to feel that familiar build-up in your tummy grow. He presses one hand into your waist, the other holding that spot that he’s now hyper-focused on.

He speeds up his motions, his waist slapping against the fat of your ass, “Greedy momma, huh? You just want my babies so bad, huh?”

The pressure builds up only intensifies when the hand from your waist pushes your thong out of the way. His pointer and ring finger spread you wider as his middle finger swipes across your swollen clit. The mixture of meticulous work on your clit on top of the swiftness of his thrusts makes your ears ring.

You are being loud, and you both know it. Usually, soundproof bedroom walls protect your pretty sounds from being exposed to the rest of the family, but you are in the middle of the condo, bent over the kitchen counter.

Johnny takes the initiative to quiet you by slapping his hand over your mouth, leaving a warm spot on your tummy. His other hand does not let up on your clit, chasing that familiar feeling of you spasming around his sensitive cock.

He jerks your head back, curling your back up into an arch, “I want you to cum for me, momma. I’m close, wanna feel you first. Then I’ll give you what we both want.”

Fingers speed up as his hips falter in speed a bit, but it’s still enough for you. Your eyes roll back the moment the burning spreads across your nerve endings. You moan into his hand, his name falling from your lips over and over. His hips go flush with your ass the moment his cock twitches, emptying every last drop deep inside you. His face is pressed into the side of yours, his words a jumble of “fuck” and “yes, take it all, baby”.

You stand there on wobbly legs as Johnny recovers and moves his hand away from your mouth. He kisses your cheek a couple of times before his hands go back to your lower tummy again.

“I’m in no rush,” He mumbles, drawing circles into your skin. You know exactly what he’s talking about, and hearing him reassure you again makes your heart grow a million sizes, “I'd rather have you all to myself anyway.”

The giggle that escapes your throat is clouded by some phlegm. You clear your throat, “I like that it’s just us. Especially right now.”

“I’m not ready to share you.”

He slips out of you as he says it, making it sound so casual. His cum literally drips down your thigh as he removes himself. “Sorry, honey.”

You run your fingers between your hips and thong to straighten it back out over your ass. When you slap it against your own skin, you hear Johnny chuckle at the obscenity. He bends down, grabbing the waistband of your pants, shimmying it up your leg, effectively wiping away the white liquid he left on your skin. To him, it’s a job well done. All clean!

To you, it means you have to ensure you run the pants through the laundry twice.

“Johnny-”

“Sorry,” He beams as you spin to scold him, “Again.”

There he is. Embedding himself so deep into your skin like a lovesick leech. You want to smack him for annoying you so quickly after getting you blissed out on his dick, but instead, you just grit your teeth and pinch his cheek.

“Daddy is going to sleep on the hard couch if he keeps it up.”

His eyes light up at your words, completely disregarding the latter half of the sentence.

“So you did like that little fake scenario I mocked up, huh?”

You shake your head, buttoning your pants. He is a menace and he knows it. “Oh, you read me so well, honey. You’re on fire tonight!”

You don’t mean it to have a double meaning, but of course it does with Johnny. The expression he makes is so painful to your pride that you scrunch your nose in disgust.

“I’m always on fire, Momma.”

#johnny with a breeding kink confirmed by me and me only #he told me #johnny storm x reader #johnny storm #johnny storm x fem!reader #johnny storm x you #fantastic 4 #fantastic 4 first steps #the human torch #human torch x reader #fantastic four smut #johnny storm smut #johnny storm fic #fantastic four #marvel smut #mcu smut #gracieheartspedro #fic: childproof

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musingsofheaven · 27 days ago

Text

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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6K notes · View notes

keeryhours · 16 days ago

Text

the calm before the storm - johnny storm

Johnny Storm x pregnant!gf!reader

Masterlist Tag Lists

Summary:

You have some news for Johnny, but the last thing you expect is for Sue to beat you to it. However, it turns out becoming parents isn’t even the biggest thing the family has to worry about - there are much bigger forces at work. Follows the timeline of about the first half of the movie

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, oral (m receiving), creampie, movie spoilers, pregnancy, birth, fluff, angst, dangerous situations

Word Count: 19.2k

A/N:

I’m so beyond happy to have this completed and posted for y’all! This fic follows the timeline of the first half of the movie and contains spoilers, and is left open for more. I’m sorry if there’s anything in here that doesn’t make sense or isn’t canon compliant, I know nothing besides this one movie 😅 Much more can be written in the world of this fic - let me know if you want to see it! Big giant thanks to @punkrockmlchael for my banner, @writhingg for always being the best beta reader, @glassbxttless and @getaapologist for being the most helpful ever for this girl who knows nothing about marvel, and to @feral4youu and @sudsys for reading literally every scene the second i finish it (you’re both real ones ilysm)

“Oh, sweetheart…”

Johnny was a panting mess above you, leaning up on his elbows on the bed and watching your every move as you took his cock deeper and deeper down your throat. You looked up at him through your long eyelashes, taking in the fucked-out look on his face.

He was looking down at you with his face screwed up in pleasure. His toned chest heaved with his breaths, a whining moan at the end of each one.

His cock was hot and heavy in your mouth, throbbing between your swollen lips. Precum leaked from his tip, the heady taste on your tongue every time you swiped over his slit, which drove him crazy. His head would loll back on his shoulders as a low groan tore its way out of his chest.

You splayed your hands across his thick thighs, bobbing your head a little faster, making sure to give every part of him plenty of attention. He loved when you were sloppy on it like this. Johnny raked his hand through your hair, pushing you down all the way and holding you there until you couldn’t breathe.

“God-“ he choked, his eyes falling closed. “Oh, jesus baby, that’s- h-oh- oh, god-“

He let go and you pulled off of him, gasping for air. You took only a moment to compose yourself before you were sinking back onto him, sending Johnny flopping back onto the pillows with a groan.

You cradled his balls in your right hand, gently massaging them as you took him down slowly, focusing your tongue along the underside of his cock. His thighs trembled, muscles clenching.

“Fuck,” he whined. “Sweetheart, I- I’m so close, I’m so close. Wanna be inside you. Please.”

You lifted off of him with a pop, his cock twitching weakly as it was left wanting. Your lips were shining, wet with saliva. “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

Johnny laughed breathlessly and reached for you, pulling you on top of him and drawing a giggle from your lips. Your naked body landed on top of his, your chests pressed together as he tangled his hand in the back of your hair and dragged you down into a playful kiss.

Your lips moved together like they had always known one another. You straddled Johnny’s waist, legs on either side of his hips as you kissed him. His free hand rubbed down the smooth skin of your back and gripped your ass, making you gasp into the kiss. He chuckled.

“You’re perfect, y’know that?” he said quietly against your lips. He licked into your mouth, tasting a hint of the wine you’d had together, now forgotten across the room. A moan rumbled from his chest and against yours as your tongues rolled together, his cock pressed right up against what he wanted more than anything.

“You’re too sweet, Johnny,” you said as you broke the kiss and sat up. You rolled your hips experimentally, his cock dragging through your soaked folds. Johnny gasped, his hands flying to grip your hips tightly.

“Shit,” he hissed. “I can’t take it anymore. I need to fuck you right now.”

You moaned, you could feel his impressive length pressing insistently against you. He needed it bad tonight - you loved it when he got like this. Sometimes he was so needy and desperate, sometimes he was dominant and in control. Tonight was the former, and you weren’t complaining. “D’you want me to ride you, baby?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Fuck yeah.”

You lifted yourself up on your knees and Johnny reached beneath you to line his cock up with your hole. His thick tip was pressed tight against you, his blue eyes looking up into yours with so much fiery lust behind them it took your breath away.

You mentally prepared yourself, then lowered, sinking down onto Johnny’s thick cock slowly. His head dropped back and he let out a loud groan - you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole Baxter Building could hear him. Johnny was never shy about letting you know how good you felt.

He rocked his hips up into you right away, feet planted on the bed and his thigh muscles working as he pumped up into you. He was so deep already, your head tossed back as you cried out.

“Johnny! Oh my god-“

He was fucking you so hard from beneath you, you forgot you were supposed to be doing the work, too lost in your own pleasure. Eventually Johnny tugged on your hips, encouraging you to move. “Ride me, sweetheart. Please.”

You rocked your hips slowly at first, grinding down against him. You rested your hands on Johnny’s chest, rolling against him, the hair at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit just right. It felt incredible for you, but he needed more. He grabbed your ass in each of his large hands and started guiding you up and down, lifting you before letting you fall back down onto him.

The first drop back down onto him made Johnny’s back arch, a loud moan filling the air. The muscles in his neck and shoulders were straining, his pink, kiss swollen lips parted in a pretty O. Oh, he was needy.

You set a steady pace bouncing on his cock, Johnny watching your every move with intense focus. Your tits bounced with your movements - he couldn’t decide whether he’d rather look at that or the way his cock was disappearing inside you.

“Jesus,” Johnny groaned. “God, yes, keep riding me like that. You’re so tight around me, so fucking hot and wet- oh-“

“Feels so good, Johnny,” you cried, your voice higher than usual. He guided you a little faster, needing more, needing to fuck you deeper and harder. His cock felt so good with you wrapped around him - he’d never felt anything so good. He thought he could stay there indefinitely.

He sat up, burying his face in your bouncing tits and groaning as he groped them with his large, warm hands. His thumb swiped over the nipple of one while his hot mouth wrapped around the other, making you gasp. He moaned unabashedly, deep and low and drawn out, loud enough for the whole city to hear.

He fell back against the pillows and grabbed onto your hips again, guiding you faster. He was getting close, you could tell by the way his muscles were clenching, the way he needed more more more, the way he started whining and babbling and praising you like you were some deity bestowing upon him pleasures like he’d never before experienced.

“That’s it, that’s it sweetheart, keep riding me like that, keep- keep- fuuuuck- oh god-“ He was gasping, whimpering, losing control as his orgasm crept up his spine like electricity. “Need you to cum, baby, because I’m not far off.”

“‘m close, Johnny,” you whined, falling down onto his cock over and over, your head tilted back, his tip pressing so deep inside you - it was sending you reeling. When he moved a hand from your hip to rub quick, small circles on your clit with his thumb, it nearly made you scream. The coil in your belly tightened and tightened and tightened-

Your pussy clenched around Johnny again and again as you came, which was almost his undoing. You were screaming and moaning his name and Johnny was trying to hold it together just a little bit longer, just a little more, he didn’t want it to be over yet but-

Flames crackled on his skin as he let out a roar of a moan, planting his feet and thrusting his hips up into you as hard as he could. You gasped, surprised by the actual fire flickering along his arched body - but you were too fucked out with his cockhead currently buried as deep in you as possible while he held you there, his cum dripping out of you and down the sides of his shaft.

You were both shaking hard as you came down. The flames disappeared and you were left with your normal not-flaming boyfriend, still holding onto your hips while he tried to catch his breath, his chest shining with sweat.

“Jesus,” you finally said, laughing lightly. Johnny joined you, breathless but chuckling at the situation. He helped you carefully pull off of him, more of the cum he’d given you dripping from your hole. His eyes zeroed in on it, and you thought you heard him whimper.

“That was incredible,” Johnny said. He reached for his bedside table and grabbed a water bottle sitting there, opening it and taking a long drink.

“Do you usually catch on fire when you have sex?” you teased.

“Only when it’s fucking incredible,” he said, giving you that charming Johnny Storm smirk. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your lips. “You’re incredible. I love you.”

“I love you too, Johnny.” You kissed him again. You cuddled up to his side on the bed. “Is it okay that you…y’know…” Johnny had never cum inside of you like that before. Usually you used condoms, or he pulled out.

“I can get you a morning after pill if you’re nervous,” he said quietly. “But with my powers, my DNA mutation - I’m not even sure if I can have kids. Reed and Sue have wanted them for ages and it never happened.” He shrugged sadly, still a hint of a smile on his face. “Kinda sucks, because I really wanted kids one day.”

The idea of never being able to have children with Johnny made you sad. It made your heart ache. You knew any child would be the luckiest in the world to have Johnny as their father.

“You don’t have to,” you said. “I know it's unlikely.”

Johnny kissed your temple. He knew how badly you wanted children, and he felt terrible he couldn’t give them to you. “I love you, sweetheart,” he said simply again. “I’m always gonna take care of you.”

“I love you too, Johnny.” You nuzzled into his neck, slumber catching up to your aching body. “I’m gonna take care of you, too.”

He chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath your head. He stroked your hair as you laid together and held you close.

“You are everything to me.”

“I can’t believe she’s having a baby,” Johnny laughed as you closed the door to your bedroom, still wrapping his mind around the news of his sister being pregnant. He was thrilled, that much was clear. Sue was happy, he was happy - he knew Reed would take good care of both of them. That wasn’t even a concern. They’d wanted a baby for so long. He shook his head with a smile, running a hand through his blonde hair.

“Yeah,” you said, trying to muster up as much enthusiasm in your voice as you could. “It’s really exciting!”

The truth was, your stomach was buzzing with nerves. You were beyond happy for her, but Sue announcing a pregnancy was the last thing you expected tonight -

You had been planning an announcement for Johnny yourself.

Now, you weren’t sure what to do. You didn’t want to take over Sue and Reed’s baby news, especially with how long they’d been waiting for this. And sure, Johnny was over the moon about becoming an uncle - but how would he feel about becoming a dad? Right now?

Johnny gave you a strange look as he sat on the end of the bed, removing his shoes. “You okay? You seem…weird.”

“I’m fine!” you exclaimed, maybe with a little too much energy. “Seriously, I’m fine. It was just…a big evening.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But…something’s off. Are you not happy?”

“No!” you blurted too quickly. “I mean, yes, I am. It’s not that, I swear.”

You had begun to pace, fingers tangled together. Johnny was properly concerned now, leaning on his knees as he watched you. When he couldn’t take it anymore he reached out, grabbing your hand and stopping you. “Sweetheart. What’s bothering you? You know you can tell me anything.”

Unable to keep pacing with your hand in his, you felt like the news was going to burst out without your permission. “It’s nothing, Johnny, I promise.”

He pulled you down onto his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist. “What, do you want a baby now that it’s on the table?” he asked, his tone teasing. Your stomach clenched in a knot, your skin like ice.

“What?” you asked, your laugh too high, too awkward to be casual. “What are you talking about?”

“Did my sister’s announcement give you baby fever?” he teased you even more, oblivious to your internal panic. “We’ll have one one day, baby. I wanna get married first, wait until things feel…right.”

That made you feel even worse. Would he not want the baby now? The way he’s talking now makes it sound like he doesn’t want one. But you were pregnant. It was happening whether it was the right time or not.

You felt tears brimming in your eyes. Your gaze was locked on the floor, avoiding Johnny entirely. When you didn’t laugh or joke back, he moved to look at your face better, seeing your wet eyes and trembling lower lip.

“Jesus, baby, what’s going on?” he asked, placing his hands on either side of your face. “I was just messing around. What’s bothering you so much?”

Your hormones were really getting to you. You weren’t much of a crier, not usually, which was what had Johnny extra freaked out as you sobbed in his lap. He rubbed your arms up and down soothingly, his warmth transferring to you. “Baby, please. Just tell me what’s wrong so I can help. I hate seeing you like this and feeling helpless.”

You shook your head. “I can’t. I…I can’t.”

“You can’t what?” The longer you went without just telling Johnny what was wrong, the worse his panic got. “Sweetheart, please. Just tell me, you- you can tell me anything, you know that.”

“I just…” you sniffled, wiping at your eyes. Johnny wiped a stray tear away with his thumb. “This isn’t how I wanted this to go.”

“How you wanted what to go?” He was so lost. “Baby, please, just tell me. I’m so confused. You know I’m not good at…figuring feelings out. If I did something wrong, please just tell me.”

You shook your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Johnny.” You met his blue eyes, your own red and puffy. It broke his heart. “I just…I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot going on.”

“Like what?” he asked. “Let me help. Please. You don’t have to do anything alone.” He squeezed your hip. “I’m your family. We’re your family now.”

A deep breath. You had to tell him. And he knew enough now to be scared - it had to be now. “Johnny…”

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he said. He was looking right into your eyes, you were surprised he couldn’t read your thoughts straight out of your head. Those eyes were so intense, they could have fooled you. “Let me in.”

“I…” He squeezed your hands in his. You took comfort in his touch. “Johnny, I’m pregnant.”

It was like time stopped. Neither of you moved an inch - or even breathed. Johnny just kept staring at you as if you hadn’t said anything. Then, finally - “Are you serious?”

You nodded. You were terrified as you watched him, waiting for his reaction. He looked like he was processing the words, like they hadn’t fully set in yet. Then-

“Really? A little Storm baby? Right now?” he grinned - but his mouth dropped when something else occurred to him. “And they’ll have a built-in best friend!”

“You’re happy?” you asked. Relief flooded your veins, but you were still shaking from the anxiety. “You want this?”

“What do you- of course I want this,” he said, laughing like he couldn’t believe what you’d said. He rubbed your upper arms, warming your entire body. “Who cares if we’re not married yet? This is the best news. We’ve gotta tell everyone right now.”

“Hold on,” you said, laughing lightly. Johnny had surprised you - he looked ecstatic. You had been worried for nothing. “Sue just announced, I don’t want to take away from her moment. They tried for a long time.”

Johnny considered your words. “She’s going to be happy for us,” he said.

“I know she will be.” His blue eyes were shining, the excitement physically visible in them. “But this is her moment. I don’t want to take that away from her and Reed.”

Despite your words, he still couldn’t wipe the huge grin off his face - he was happy enough at the idea of becoming an uncle, but a father too? This was one of the best days of his life. “Okay. We’ll wait. But this is the best. Who could have predicted me and my sister having babies at the exact same time?”

“It is pretty crazy,” you said, your voice nervous. You were still wrapping your mind around the situation yourself. You’d only known for two days, and had spent those worrying yourself sick over Johnny’s reaction. You had finally worked up the courage, but the news of Sue’s pregnancy coming out at Sunday dinner was the last thing you expected.

You knew that, eventually, this would be amazing. Two cousins so close to the same age were bound to be close. But you worried about how Sue and Reed would feel. Would they be hurt? Would they resent you and Johnny for getting pregnant so easily? By accident?

The anxiety made you sick. Even when you changed into your pajamas and climbed into bed with Johnny, your boyfriend spooning against your back with his hand already resting protectively on your stomach - you worried. Johnny snored softly in your ear and you thought about how you might have just ruined everything in your new family.

It was two weeks after telling Johnny about the pregnancy, and Sunday dinner had once again rolled around. You were content to keep the secret for a while longer still, but Johnny was driving you crazy about it. Every day he asked when you could announce, every day he begged you to say yes.

You’d finally agreed. Now Johnny was practically bouncing off the walls, excited for dinner. He was dressed handsomely, a button down shirt with dark blue pants. You had been suffering from the worst morning sickness the past week, and only had the energy to dress in an oversized t-shirt and leggings.

He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as you ate, and the others definitely noticed, looking at him strangely. Finally, as dinner was wrapping up, Sue spoke up.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” she asked her younger brother as she helped gather dirty plates, Johnny trailing behind her with more dishes. “You look like you have some good news.”

Johnny beamed at you - you mustered up a half hearted smile in return, but in reality your heart was beating out of your chest, your throat felt like it was closing. You’d hardly said a word all evening and didn’t have much of an appetite, most of your plate untouched. With the moment now here, you thought the little you had eaten might make a reappearance.

“I do, actually,” Johnny said, grabbing the box of Lucky Charms off the counter despite having just eaten. He grabbed some and popped them in his mouth.

Sue, Reed, and Ben looked at him with more concern than anything, exchanging a look with their eyebrows drawn together. That made you even more sick.

“What is it?” Reed asked. Johnny had everyone’s full attention now.

“Well,” he said, trying somewhat to contain his face-splitting smile. He sat the box down and walked back to where you sat, standing behind you. He placed his hands on the back of your chair. “We have something exciting to tell you guys.” He glanced down at you, then back at his family. “We’re having a baby.”

It was so silent, only the soft whirrs of Herbie as he bustled around filled the air. Reed and Ben looked at Sue - it was tense. Johnny’s smile began to falter.

“Wow,” she finally said, and it was obvious that was the last thing they expected Johnny to say. Her face was stone, and you felt your heart actually crack when you noticed her eyes becoming glassy. “That’s…wow.”

Reed reached over and took his wife’s hand, looking at her like he wanted to read her mind. She was unreadable, however.

You looked up at Johnny. He looked back down at you, the sudden understanding of your concerns now all over his face. He looked back at his sister, eyes darting to Ben and Reed before meeting hers again. “Are you…upset?”

“No!” she said quickly. “No. I’m not upset. It’s just…you know, it’s a lot.” She smiled, although it seemed a little forced. She let go of Reed’s hand and stood, approaching her brother and wrapping him in a tight hug.

Johnny glanced at you, but hugged her back. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked her quietly.

“Of course I’m okay,” she said. “I just…Johnny, I can’t believe it.” They parted and she looked at each person in the room. “What are the odds, huh?”

“A little reckless maybe, don’t you think?”

You all looked at Reed. He wasn’t smiling. The look on his face was completely unamused, serious. “Was it an accident?”

No one said anything. The question hung in the air, although each person there already knew the answer.

“Why does that matter?” Johnny finally asked.

“Have you even thought of the repercussions? The potential consequences? Dangers?” Reed asked. He gestured to you, towards your belly, and you covered it with your arms. “The child’s father has cosmically compromised DNA. You have powers, and she doesn’t. Have you thought of what might happen to her carrying your child?”

Silence. Neither you nor Johnny had even considered that. Johnny looked down at you with something a little like panic in his eyes.

“That- what do you mean?” he stuttered. “Could something happen to her?”

“We don’t know what could happen,” Reed said. “That’s why you were reckless.”

“We just don’t know if we’re going to have a fire baby to worry about,” Ben said lightly. The idea made you cringe.

“You don’t know what’s going to happen with two parents with powers, either,” Johnny said. “This is new territory for all of us.”

“I know,” Reed said. “I’ve been developing a device to scan the baby and check for abnormalities.” He nodded to Sue, then you. “I can check them both.”

Johnny looked at you. The sweat on your brow and the trembling in your hands were immediately noticeable - you were scared shitless. He crouched down next to your chair, speaking quietly for you only. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“Could something really happen?” you asked him. “To the baby? To me?”

His mouth opened to tell you no, of course not. You’re safe. I would never let anything happen to either of you. But the truth was that he had no idea - no one did. And if something bad did happen, he thought, it would be his fault. He did this to you.

“I don’t know, baby,” he said. “But I can promise you I will do everything in my power to keep you both safe. And Reed is gonna make sure there’s nothing going on while that little Storm’s brewing.” A goofy grin took over his face as he placed a hand on your belly.

“Oh, come on,” Ben groaned, unamused by the pun.

Johnny stood. “Whatever you have to do to make sure she’s going to be okay,” he said to Reed, “that they’re both going to be okay- do it. I can’t lose-“ He stopped, taking a deep breath. “I can’t let anything happen to her.”

“Getting this machine built is my top priority,” Reed said. “I promise you, I’m going to do everything I can for both of them.”

You were relieved when everyone started returning to their rooms. You were exhausted, still felt sick, and were now stressed beyond belief. Johnny gave Herbie a scratch on the head - “Night, Herbert.” - to which he beeped contentedly.

As you were about to leave with Johnny, Sue stopped you. She hurried over, but once she reached you, she wasn’t sure what to say. Eventually, she smiled at you apologetically, grabbing your upper arms and running her hands down until they rested on your elbows.

She said your name, then looked at Johnny, giving him a look that said Some privacy, please? Johnny held his hands up, backing away.

Sue’s attention now fully on you, you felt nervous once again. You’d always liked Sue - you and Johnny had been dating a year now, and she had been nothing but kind to you since you’d known her. But this was a different circumstance entirely.

“I wanted to tell you congratulations,” she said. “And apologize for the way I reacted when you told us the news. It just- it shocked me. It was a shock. Reed and I- well, you know.” She smiled softly. “But I really am happy for you and Johnny. He’s going to be a great dad. I should have told him so.”

Warmth spread through your veins, comfort - like a hug from Johnny himself. Relief. “You don’t have to apologize,” you assured her. “I understand how you felt. I’m sorry we kind of…made you share the most important event of your life.” You grimaced - you felt horrible about it, even though you hadn’t in any way meant to get pregnant.

“I don’t mind sharing with you and my baby brother,” she said. “Don’t worry, I’ve shared a lot with him over the years.”

You laughed lightly. “Thank you, Sue. And I am really, really happy for you. I know you’ve wanted a baby for a long time.”

“Thank you.” She pulled you into a tight hug. “You’re going to be an incredible mother.”

With the news out amongst the family and your bumps becoming increasingly difficult to hide, it was time to come out and tell the press. You announced with a spread on a magazine cover, the Four with two empty baby seats.

The public debated whether you and Sue would have boys or girls. Most seemed to think you were both having boys, but whatever the stance, everyone was passionate about theirs. There were articles, polls, bets being exchanged.

“The countdown continues as the Fantastic Four prepare to welcome two new members to the family,” the reporters were saying. “Preparations inside the Baxter Building are well underway!”

And they were. Herbie was busy baby proofing the entire building, flitting around and making sure everything was safe for the new arrivals. He was just as excited as the rest of you. He put plug covers in all the sockets, moved sharp objects out of the way, installed locks on the cabinets, placed baby gates - much to Ben’s annoyance.

“The question on everyone’s mind is - will the babies be born with superpowers?”

It was true - everyone wondered. Even you. Even Johnny.

You thought back to Ben’s joke. What if you really did have a little fire baby to worry about? The idea of your child bursting into flames terrified you - it was still weird enough when Johnny did it.

The public wasn’t quite as nice to you as they were to Sue and Reed. Between a married couple who had been hoping for a baby for years, and a couple who had been dating for a year and got pregnant by accident - yeah, it wasn’t hard to imagine who they favored. As if it were a competition and not your family.

Gossip magazines had a lot to say about you in particular. Johnny was beloved, but you? You were just some girl who came out of nowhere, took the world’s most eligible bachelor off the market, then overshadowed the pregnancy of everyone’s favorite family.

There was a lot said about your intentions, like that you were only with Johnny for money and fame. They speculated that Sue secretly hated you. They implied you had trapped him with this pregnancy. How could the public be so happy for Johnny while being so cruel to you?

Johnny always told you to ignore it, that it wasn’t worth even keeping up with what those people were saying. But that was impossible for you - it’s like you had to know. Every time you passed a gossip mag at the store, you had to read the cover. You couldn’t help it.

“Those people don’t know anything,” Johnny would say. “Seriously. They have nothing better to do but make up fake drama. It’s sad. Please don’t pay attention to them, sweetheart.” A lopsided grin. “You’re my future wife. The love of my life. The mother of my child. No one is going to change that.”

You got to where you didn’t even want to leave the building anymore because you’d be followed by reporters. You were already struggling enough with the way your body was beginning to change, the last thing you needed was an unflattering photo of yourself ending up on the cover of another magazine, speculating if you’re having twins based on the size of your bump.

Johnny hated to see you isolate yourself. He was constantly trying to convince you to leave the building, to at least go on a walk with him. You’d agree some of the time, but not as often as he’d like.

“You and the baby need fresh air,” he’d plead. “It’s not good to stay cooped up in here all day.”

You would be cuddled in bed like a burrito at 2pm. “I just don’t feel up to it, Johnny.”

Johnny frowned. “It hurts to see you like this,” he said softly. “You’re depressed, sweetheart. I hate that these people are getting to you. It makes me so…” He looked away from you, flames combusting on his skin. You jumped - it was still so strange.

“Sorry,” he said, the flames disappearing. He smiled sheepishly at you. “It’s just…I wish I could do something. I wish I could do more. I’m not used to feeling helpless.” He rubbed his hand over your back, and you let out a deep sigh. “Just want my girl to be happy and safe.”

The gossip slowed down eventually as your pregnancy progressed, much to your relief. Despite the way they’d treated you, the public was absolutely beside themselves at the thought of Johnny and Sue both having babies. You were even asked to do a photo shoot with her for a magazine - that was completely out of your depth, but you’d done it.

You felt so small standing next to Sue Storm. Like, who cares about me?

Your family did, and they showed you that every day. Before long, you were feeling more like yourself again, walking around in public with your bump proudly visible, hand on it protectively. The public warmed up to you. You were really becoming a part of the family - in everyone’s eyes.

“Can I carry that for you, sweetheart?”

You turned, seeing Johnny jogging up to you. He reached for the laundry basket in your hands.

“Oh, sure,” you said, handing it off to him. He grinned - he always did have the most charming smile. It made your stomach fill with butterflies, just like the first time you’d seen him in person.

He followed you back to the bedroom with the basket, placing it down on the bed. He lifted a shirt from the top of the pile and began folding it.

“Babe, you don’t have to do that,” you said, placing your hand on his arm. He turned to look at you, those blue eyes so close to your own, it nearly took your breath away.

“I don’t mind,” he said. “I don’t want you to have to do it. You should rest. You’ve still been so sick.”

“That’s sweet, Johnny, but no, seriously. Herbie usually does it.”

Johnny stopped, his cheeks tinged pink. “Oh. Yeah. That’s right, isn’t it?”

You giggled. “What’s gotten into you?”

Johnny sat on the bed, reaching for your hand and pulling you down to sit on his lap. His hand settled on your four months pregnant belly. “Nothing,” he said. “I just wanna take good care of my girl. You know there’s two things I love-“

“Yeah, yeah, Johnny loves space, Johnny loves women,” you teased. Johnny chuckled.

“Johnny loves you,” he said. “He loves his girl,” he rubbed his hand across your small bump, “and he loves whoever this one is going to grow to be.”

“Will this tell us if everything’s okay?” you asked, standing nervously in Reed’s lab. Sue stood to the side, there for moral support - they were all concerned about you especially.

“It should,” Reed said. “I’ve developed and tested it extensively, and ran some tests on Sue just this morning.” He looked at his wife. “It did not detect any anomalies.”

That was a relief - but it didn’t mean you would have the same result.

You wished Johnny was there. But he was busy, and he had been bugging Reed about the new space suits so relentlessly, you know he certainly didn’t miss him.

“Everything is going to be fine,” Sue said softly, sitting her hand on your shoulder. “It’s quick and painless.”

You nodded. You were scared, but you would also do absolutely anything this baby needed. You laid down on the cool table. There was nothing visibly interesting about it - it was a flat white table with a piece that arced over your stomach.

Sue stood by as Reed worked the machine. It emitted a bright light, scanning over your stomach. The machine began printing all kinds of…graphs and measurements. You had no idea what you were looking at. You often felt a little inadequate in a family full of geniuses. You were just…you. No powers, no fancy degree. Never been to space. Just a girl who’s boyfriend/baby daddy flies and occasionally combusts.

Reed and Sue both examined the results that were printing rapidly. Reed wrote some things down, while Sue pointed over his shoulder, saying some things too quietly for you to hear. It made you nervous.

They still hadn’t told you anything when Reed shut the machine off. You looked at both of them. “So? Is the baby…is everything okay?”

They exchanged a look. “There’s…some kind of anomaly,” Reed said carefully. Your body went cold. “I don’t know what it is. I’m going to have to do more tests, but for now, I need you to relax. I don’t see anything that has me immediately concerned.”

“But you just said-“

“I know.” He looked at you seriously, Sue hovering behind him. “Just because there’s some kind of anomaly doesn’t mean it’s necessarily…bad. The baby’s father is an anomaly himself.” He smiled in a way that felt like he was trying to comfort you. “I don’t want you to worry. I’m going to keep running tests.”

Your mind was spinning for the rest of the day. When you saw Johnny that evening, his brow immediately creased, knowing something was on your mind right away. “What’s going on? You look…bothered,” he asked as he ate Lucky Charms straight from the box. You hadn’t even had dinner yet.

“It’s just…” you sighed. “Reed said he found some kind of anomaly on the test.”

His concern visibly deepened. “What kind of anomaly?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “That’s all he said. That there was an anomaly but not to worry about it because he’s going to run more tests.”

Johnny looked lost deep in his own head. His brow was furrowed as his mind filled with a million thoughts you’d never understand. Suddenly, he stood. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

“Where are you going?” you asked him - he was already at the door.

“To the lab,” he said simply.

And he was gone.

“What do you mean there are anomalies?” Johnny asked his brother in law as he stormed into the lab. Reed turned from the chalkboard, only mildly surprised. “What does that mean? What kind of anomalies?”

Reed sat his chalk down. “Hi, Johnny. Good to see you.”

Johnny looked at the machine as he passed it, his hand rubbing over the top of it. He picked up a long strip of paper with your results on it, but he wasn’t sure what exactly he was looking at. He looked back at Reed. “What kind of anomalies?” he asked again. “Reed, be straight with me.”

Reed sighed. “I don’t think it’s anything too serious. I want to start with that,” he said. “But there’s something…off. I need to do more tests, that’s the truth. I don’t have any concrete answers for you. I’m sorry.”

Johnny shook his head. “What about Sue?”

“I haven’t detected anything from Sue.”

“So it’s just my child,” he said bitterly. “Two parents with two different powers are fine, but my powers alone are enough to mess things up?”

“We don’t know that anything’s messed up,” Reed explained patiently. “I need you to calm down, Johnny. There’s no reason to panic right now.”

“Right now?” he said. “So I panic later?”

“That’s usually how it goes,” Reed joked - but Johnny was unamused. “Look. If I find something that seriously concerns me, you two will be the first to hear it. I promise. For now, I need you to trust me.”

Johnny hated feeling helpless. Even now, he wasn’t angry - he was scared. Terrified. But what could he do besides trust his brother?

“Okay,” he conceded. “I’ll try.”

Reed clapped him on the shoulder. “Fatherhood is terrifying,” he said. “Super powers or not. You’re right where you’re supposed to be. Worrying about your family is normal. I know you love them both.”

“More than anything,” Johnny said quietly. “I love them so much it…” He rubbed his chest. “God, it hurts.”

A knowing smile crossed Reed’s face - because he knew the exact feeling.

“Shit,” Johnny hissed, sucking his pinched finger into his mouth. “Baby, can you hand me the screwdriver?”

You leaned over, hand on your swollen belly as you grabbed the screwdriver from the floor with great effort. You were huffing by the time you handed the tool to your boyfriend, and he turned around, giving you a winning smile.

“We could have let Herbie do this, you know,” you said. “That’s what Reed did.”

Johnny waved you off. “I’m going to put my own child’s crib together myself.” He nodded towards the rocking chair in the corner. “You should sit down.”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. Your feet were killing you. You waddled over to the glider, sitting down carefully. Your feet up on the foot stool, you watched Johnny building the baby furniture.

“Only a couple months left,” Johnny mused. “Getting close.”

“Yep,” you agreed. You looked down at your round bump as you rubbed your hand over it affectionately. “Are you coming with me to the lab after this for Reed’s test?”

“Of course,” he said instantly. “I feel bad I haven’t made the others.”

The thought filled you with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. It was still such an abstract thought, the baby in your belly. You knew they were real, and they were growing and healthy - you could feel them most of the time, sticking an arm against your spine or kicking you so hard in the bladder you had to run - it was a comfort, although uncomfortable.

“Are you nervous?” you asked him. He screwed in the leg of the crib and turned back to face you.

“To have the baby?” he questioned. “Honestly? Yeah. I’m scared out of my mind. But I’m excited.” His blue eyes glittered with it. He was practically buzzing out of his skin - you were surprised his hair wasn’t on fire.

“I hope they look like you,” you said lightly, your fingers dancing over the bump ever so gently, lost in the cloud of your thoughts.

“Me?” He gave the railing of the crib a shake, making sure the finished thing was sturdy before he looked at you again. “Why?”

You looked at him like he was dumb. “Have you seen yourself?”

Johnny’s cheeks tinted pink. “Okay, Ms. Flaming Hearts Club,” he teased. “Were you the one who kept sending me those filthy love poems with the lipstick prints?”

“You caught me,” you grinned.

Johnny shook his head, laughing. Unfortunately, you remembered those poems from his mystery admirer vividly. They were far from family friendly.

He stood, moving to a box next to the completed crib. He opened it and started pulling out space themed decorations - a mobile of the planets, glow in the dark stars, a blanket printed with constellations. You stood with some effort and joined Johnny by the side of the crib.

He lifted the mobile, installing it above the crib. You watched him work quietly - he was careful and precise. When it was hung perfectly, he smiled down at you.

“It’s coming together,” you said. Almost all the baby prep tasks had been completed - the Baxter Building was completely prepared for the two newest members.

Johnny looked a little pale. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Almost time.” He was quiet. He rested both hands on your bump, now large and very much in the way. His thumbs rubbed over it while he looked down with all the affection in the world on his face.

“I hope they don’t have powers.”

The statement caught you off guard. Johnny had never said anything like that before, and you had just assumed he’d want the baby to be like him. But now his words told a different story, one coming from a place of love - and anxiety.

“Why?” you asked softly. You got the vibe it was a sensitive subject for him.

“I just…” he sighed. “I want them to have a normal life. Having powers…it comes with an expectation, a responsibility. I didn’t ask to have powers. It just happened to me.” You were quiet. You hadn’t known Johnny before the accident, and he had never talked about it. You let him continue.

“I don’t want their life decided for them like that,” he went on. “I want them to be able to do and be whatever they want to be. Not born in a Fantastic Four suit.” He smiled crookedly. “Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

“I can understand that,” you said. The baby moved beneath Johnny’s hand, giving him a strong kick. He smiled. “I just want them to be healthy and happy. And if you think having powers would prevent that, then I agree with you.”

“I do think that,” he said, quiet. You wondered if he had thoughts about his own powers he’d never spoken aloud. “I want them to have a good life. An easy life.”

He gazed into your eyes, like he was reading you from the inside. His hand came to rest on your cheek. “You’re going to be the best mom, you know,” he said, so quietly. “I know we didn’t mean for this to happen right now…” He traced his thumb over your bottom lip, and you let out a short gasp. “But there is no one I’d rather be having a baby with. This baby is going to be so lucky to have you.”

Herbie hurried in at that moment with a basket of freshly washed and folded baby clothes, saying a little “Hello,” as he sat the basket down and began putting the clothes away. Johnny scratched the robot on the top of the head.

“Thanks, Herbert, you’re a lifesaver,” he said. Herbie happily beeped in response.

“Ready?” Johnny asked you as Herbie continued his work, hand on your lower back. “Let’s go check on this baby.”

Laying on the table in Reed’s lab once again, the machine doing its job, you watched Johnny’s anxiety manifest by being as annoying to Reed as possible.

“So is this test gonna give us answers this time or what?” he asked, pacing next to where you laid. He was giving you anxiety with the way he wouldn’t stay still. Reed was trying to ignore him, Sue standing and reading the results over her husband’s shoulder.

“It should tell us more, yes,” Reed said, distracted, but he’d already been over this. He was being remarkably patient with him. But the longer he focused on the endless graphs and lines, the more nervous you and Johnny became.

Reed gripped the paper in his hands, staring at it intently. He was reading quickly, clearly thinking a thousand miles a minute. The look on his face made you nauseous - he was concentrating, and if something was going on to make Reed act like this, it was something.

“…What is it?” Johnny asked, his heart beating uncomfortably hard. “Just tell me. Is something wrong?”

“It…” Reed stopped himself, looking back over the paper. Johnny stopped next to you, and you reached for each others’ hand. “It appears as if their DNA has also been…altered,” Reed mumbled.

Quiet. “What do you mean?” Johnny asked, his voice dead serious. Not a hint of his usual goofy personality.

Reed looked up at Johnny - then at Sue, back to his paper, to you, and finally Johnny again, who was waiting. “They’ve inherited the father’s mutated DNA. They have the X-gene.”

Johnny’s eyes went wide. You looked at everyone, but no one was explaining anything. “What does that mean?” you asked, anxiety rising in your voice. Reed was about to answer, but Johnny wasn’t even looking at you.

“So - a mutant,” Johnny said.

Another exchange of looks between Reed and Sue. “By definition…yes.”

“A mutant?” you asked, sitting up on your elbows. “What does that mean? Will they be-“ You didn’t even know what you were asking. You didn’t know what any of this meant, if it was bad news or not.

“It means they will develop powers at some point in their life,” Sue explained. “They have the X-gene exclusive to mutants.”

The information sent your head spinning. Your child would have powers after all. You hadn’t thought news like that would have upset you, but after your conversation with Johnny, you saw things a different way.

Speaking of Johnny, you looked up at your boyfriend, who was still staring at Reed, his face hard as stone. “They have powers.”

“They will,” Reed confirmed. “I don’t know when they’ll appear, or what they’ll be, but…”

Johnny abruptly pulled a chair out, sinking into it. You didn’t notice how he was shaking until he was sitting next to you, his hands intertwined in front of his mouth. He was thinking.

“It’s nothing to panic about,” Reed said. “We’ve been living with these powers for years now, and I will be performing further testing-“

“I just didn’t want this,” Johnny said simply. His words echoed through the room in the silence.

Reed closed his mouth, going back to the results, giving Johnny time. You didn’t know what to say either - was there anything you could say to make anything better? You didn’t think so. Not right now.

It was Sue who stepped forward, her left hand resting on her baby brother’s back and her right on her stomach. Johnny looked at her, and it was like they were communicating something to each other by nothing but their eyes.

“Would it make you feel better if you could see the baby?” she asked him gently.

Your lips parted in surprise - she could make that happen? - but Johnny looked up at his sister like she’d just uttered the secret to the universe. “You’ll do that for us?”

“Of course I will,” she said. She was looking at Johnny with so much love, it made your chest feel warm. They both turned to look at you. “Would you want that?”

It took you a minute to catch up to the conversation. “What? To…see the baby?”

Sue and Johnny nodded.

“Will it…hurt?”

Johnny chuckled. “No, sweetheart. I promise it won’t.”

You laid back down on the table, your head slightly inclined. Reed and Sue moved in close on your left side, while Johnny was on your right. You didn’t know what to expect.

Carefully, Sue laid her hand against the bottom of your belly, yours resting on top. It was just a minute of anticipatory silence, and then - your body, your stomach, became invisible, revealing the baby curled snugly inside.

“Oh my god-“

The choked words, like holding back a sob, were the first thing you heard. Johnny had covered his mouth with his hand, his blue eyes wet and shining in the light of the lab. His forehead was creased, and his eyes were locked on your stomach - at the baby inside. He looked like he was about 2 seconds away from losing it.

You were right there with him. There really was a baby in there - the thoughts you’d had the past months about not being able to wrap your mind around it were out the window with the vision in front of you. That was your child. The baby’s head was pressed right against where your hand rested. They were curled up in a little ball, eyes closed. Their nose reminded you of Johnny’s. Your heart was beating out of control, and you hadn’t even noticed the tears that had spilled down your face.

Reed and Sue let the two of you take your time. Sue cradled your belly like it was the most precious thing as she used her powers on you for the first time. She was the baby’s aunt, and she had so much love for them already, it was clear in her expression.

You looked at Johnny again. He was looking at your stomach with absolute awe - you wished you could hear what he was thinking. Slowly, like he was scared, he reached out and gently laid his palm on your stomach.

“See?” Sue said “There’s nothing wrong. Nothing to worry about.” She rubbed your stomach affectionately. “She’s perfect.”

“She,” Johnny repeated, his voice a mere whisper. You hadn’t even caught that yourself, hadn’t been able to think any deeper than seeing your child finally in front of your eyes. “She.”

It hadn’t even occurred to you that with seeing your baby, you’d be finding out what you were having. That wasn’t just the baby - that was your daughter. You were lost in your own thoughts when you heard a voice next to you that surprised you.

“Hey,” Johnny said quietly. He and his daughter might as well have been the only ones in the room. “Hey, baby girl. It’s your daddy.”

Reed and a teary-eyed Sue exchanged a look.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” Johnny continued. “You have the coolest family ever. You’re going to be the coolest person ever. And…” he was quiet for a moment. “And I’m going to teach you everything I know. One day, you’ll see space, too.”

Before you could completely burst into tears, Johnny turned to look you in the eyes. There was so much unspoken between you, it felt like something tangible taking up space and air. He surged forwards and kissed you, then pressed your foreheads together.

“I love you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve never loved anyone like I love the both of you.”

At eight months pregnant now, you were starting to really be over the whole thing. You were aching, swollen, tired, and irritable, and it felt like Sue was handling pregnancy with a lot more grace than you were.

Not only did she come across as significantly less miserable - usually dressed nicely with her hair and makeup done while you could barely handle getting out of bed and throwing some sweatpants on - she was also just lucky. She didn’t have the crippling morning (all day) sickness like you did, and her bump was small and cute, nothing like how huge you were. You knew every pregnancy was different, but it seemed a little unfair.

Johnny had been doing everything in his power to cheer you up. He took care of you, rubbed your back and feet, put lotion on your belly, and kept you company when you were too miserable to leave the building. However your pregnancy hormones were raging, and he often got snapped at - followed by a tearful apology.

He never minded.

You were looking for him now, waddling throughout the house with a hand on your stomach for support. Something you hadn’t been prepared for was your sense of gravity being thrown off - that was strange.

He wasn’t in the kitchen, and you had just left Reed’s lab after another scan - nothing new to report. Baby girl was totally healthy and not throwing you any more shocks. She was getting so big - she’d be there before you knew it.

You huffed as you dragged yourself up the stairs, getting plenty of use out of the handrail. By the time you reached the top you were breathing heavily, having to take a minute to lean against the wall at the top and catch your breath. Finally, you made your way to the bedroom.

There he was.

Johnny stood across the room at the window. His back was to you, so you didn’t even know if he knew you were there. He was staring out, the longing nearly radiating off his body. He was looking at the spaceship.

You walked up behind him, your feet sliding against the plush carpet. He didn’t turn, which was odd - you weren’t trying to be quiet. He only got like this when he had a lot on his mind.

And he did have a lot on his mind. Now that the due date was getting closer and closer, he knew he was running out of time to be ready to be a father. This baby girl was coming whether he liked it or not. The Baxter Building would be a much different place when the babies arrived.

He thought to his own parents. After the death of his mother, his dad had tried his best with Sue and Johnny, but he saw how hard it was for him. Being a parent isn’t easy at all, and now he was about to become one. Very soon.

The thought of the baby being here filled him with an overwhelming anxiety. What if he didn’t know the first thing about being a dad? What if he was an awful one? What if he screwed his kid up? What if he got killed on a mission and left you both on your own? What if-

“Do you miss it?” you asked.

Johnny startled, snapped out of his spiraling thoughts, but he smiled when his eyes landed on you. “Space?” he asked, looking back out the window. “God, yes.”

He gestured you over, putting an arm around you. You looked out the window with him - the ship was a sight. It was massive, and it was in your backyard. Johnny looked at it often. It was his favorite part of this room.

“I always loved space,” he said. “It’s like nothing else. The most beautiful thing you’ll ever see in your life.” He looked back down at you, giving you a wink. “Well, one of them.”

You scoffed a laugh, and Johnny squeezed your shoulder. “Do you think you’ll go back one day?”

“Absolutely,” Johnny answered right away. “If I thought I would never see space again…I don’t know what I’d do.”

Space had been his first love. You had to respect it.

“Are you okay?” you asked him. “You just seem like you have a lot on your mind.”

Johnny didn’t say anything at first. You weren’t sure if he was going to answer you, but finally he sighed deeply and his lips parted, as if he was about to speak but lost the words.

“I’m okay,” he said. “We’re just, y’know, about to take a big step together. We’re about to be thrown into something we know absolutely nothing about. And it’s scary.” He chuckled lightly. “It scares me.”

“It scares me too,” you admitted. “But I know you’re going to be the greatest dad. Do you know how cool she’s going to be at school? Her dad is the Human Torch.”

Johnny laughed at that. The thing is, you weren’t wrong. These babies were being born into a family of celebrities - being born into celebrities themselves. His smile faded a little as he thought of that.

“I just…” He sighed as he thought. “I wanted her to be her own person.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder. “She will be,” you promised him. “Her life isn’t over just because she’s going to have powers. And who’s to say if she didn’t have them, she wouldn’t wish she did?”

Johnny hasn’t considered that. “I guess that’s true.”

“The point is,” you said, “everything about parenthood is…uncertain. We don’t know who she’ll be or what she’ll be like or who she’ll grow into. But I know she’s going to love her daddy with her whole heart.” Johnny’s cheeks flushed at the title - he still wasn’t used to it yet. “She’s going to be strong and, more than anything, loved.”

He nodded, and you thought you saw him sneakily wiping his eyes. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m doing what I said I didn’t want to happen. I’m deciding what she wants for her.” He scoffed lightly. “Is it always going to be this hard?”

“Harder, I think,” you said jokingly - but it was the truth. Parenthood would only get more and more challenging. “Who knows. Maybe one day she’ll be on that ship with you.”

Another thought that Johnny hadn’t even allowed himself to consider. But with the idea in his head, he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his lips. “That would be…”

“Your dream?” you teased. “She’ll probably end up a genius like the rest of her family and leave me the only normal boring human.”

Johnny turned to you swiftly, placing his hands on either side of your face. “Don’t talk about yourself like you’re nothing special,” he said firmly. “Because that’s not true. You are smart. You don’t have to be a damn scientist or astronaut for me to think you’re one of the smartest people I’ve met.”

You looked at him skeptically, your eyebrows raised. “You know how many scientists, engineers, and physicists you know?”

He smiled. “That doesn’t mean anything. Doesn’t mean they’re smart.”

“Kinda does.”

“You’re missing the point.” He kissed your forehead. “I don’t want to hear you talking like you’re nobody. That couldn’t be less true. You’re everything.”

You looked down. “It’s just hard not to feel useless in a house full of superheroes and a very productive and cute robot.”

“Well, I can say for certain that you’re cuter,” he said. You giggled as he leaned in abruptly and kissed your cheek, his fingers tickling your sides. You laughed, fighting him off, pushing him away as he only pulled you closer. He covered your face in kisses when he finally caught you.

“I love you,” he said. “God, I love you. You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Later that day, you were in the kitchen with the family. Herbie carved a pumpkin, Ben was working on a meringue, and you were helping Sue set the table.

You looked up as Johnny stormed in, grabbing a box of Lucky Charms. He was clearly in a bad mood.

“Hey,” Ben greeted him, before noticing his demeanor. “Why the long face? Your 2:15 with Reed didn’t go well?” Johnny said nothing, which was answer enough. “I’m sorry, pal.”

“Hey, I’m fine, you know, I don’t mind. It’s just that-“

“We’ll go to space again,” Ben said.

“Yeah, we will.” Johnny said it with confidence. He pulled the toy out of the box of cereal. “Oh! Nice!”

He pointed the little figure at Ben, pressing the button - “Flame on! Flame on!” Ben took the toy and crushed it in his hand, blowing the dust back in Johnny’s face. You shook your head, but stifled a laugh.

After messing with Ben a little longer, Johnny made his way over to where you stood. He placed his hand on your belly and leaned in for a kiss.

“You sure you’re okay, honey?” you asked him quietly. You knew he’d been looking forward to this meeting with Reed for a while - he had really been hoping.

“I’m okay,” he said, smiling at you like he wanted you to believe it. “Ben’s right. We’ll go back. I just…need to wait.”

The last person to arrive to Sunday dinner, Reed walked in and straight to his wife. As he spoke to her and Johnny stood with you, hand caressing the bump, sirens went by outside - that was unusual.

Reed motioned you all out to the balcony. Johnny led you out, hand on your lower back as you all walked out the glass doors.

“For the last few months,” Reed said, “I’ve been tracking a small number of criminal organizations.”

You peeked over the balcony - there was a police presence all over the city. Your eyes widened in shock.

“A small number, huh?” Ben said.

“47,” Reed said. He pointed out some specific organizations, pointing at different spots in the city. Often left in the dark about these things, you didn’t even realize there were that many in the city.

“You baby proofed the world,” Ben said.

“It’s a sweet gesture,” Sue grabbed Reed’s hand. You agreed - you wouldn’t complain about the city being safer for the babies.

“It’s a thorough gesture,” Ben continued. “But, uh, I like punching.”

“You mean clobbering?” Johnny goaded him.

“No, I mean punching.”

“Hey, what time is it?” he asked as Ben turned to go back inside the house.

“It’s dinner time.”

“You sure it’s not clobbering time?”

“Stop it.”

At that moment, as the five of you were turning to leave, the Four’s alarms began going off. You all turned to see some kind of explosion in the sky - fire and flashing lights. Johnny placed a hand on your shoulder, a silent You better be in this exact spot when I get back, and then he was gone - a creature of flame, taking off into the sky and directly into the heart of the danger.

You grabbed Sue’s hand as he went. “What’s going on?” you asked her weakly, hand protectively over your stomach. She placed a comforting hand on your back, but didn’t turn away from the sky.

“I don’t know,” she said. She turned to you. “But we’ve got to go. I need you to stay here.”

Once again reminded of your uselessness - you could do nothing but nod. What else could you do? Get in the way? Put yourself and your child in danger when there was nothing you could do to help?

You watched on with worry as Reed, Sue, and Ben left the building as quickly as possible, leaving you with Herbie. When they were gone, you watched the commotion through the window - until you ran to the TV and turned it on, wondering if anyone was reporting. You didn’t have to look far.

“Breaking news from Times Square.”

You watched on as a woman - an alien? - stood before the city. You clutched your chest with one hand and protectively held your bump with the other. You could see the Four standing, watching. Seeing Johnny safe sent relief flooding your veins.

“Are you the protectors of this world?”

“Yes, we are,” Sue said, standing with confidence.

“Your planet has been marked for death.”

You barely even processed anything she was saying after that. Marked for death? Fear struck into your very soul.

“I herald your end.”

When Johnny and the others returned, you ran into his arms. He held you tightly - this was his first time facing galactic danger while having a child and you to worry about. He found it made him feel sick, an unfamiliar kind of worry and uncertainty he wasn’t used to.

They all went straight to the lab upon return to the Baxter building - there was no time to waste. The fate of everyone was quite literally in their hands. You joined them, despite feeling like you had nothing to contribute.

Reed was tracking where the herald had been. He found at least five planets, destroyed - and she was at every one. Galactus could and would do exactly what she said.

The herald had spoken to everyone, but she had spoken only to Johnny directly. He was hung up on it - what had she said to him? It was in her native language, but, he thought, there had to be some way to decode it.

After the herald, Johnny became obsessed with solving the message. He was making progress, too - he discovered transmission recordings that were the same language. Whenever Johnny got like this, it was cute. You loved seeing him in his element, even if it meant he had less time for you. The baby prep was done, there was nothing more to do but wait for her to arrive.

You were relaxing in the bathtub, the hot water soothing your aching muscles, while Johnny was in the bedroom, listening to the recordings. You gave him his space.

Sue walked in as he was working. “Okay. So she spoke to you, yeah? And?”

Johnny played her the recordings. “I don’t know who they are or what they’re saying, but this? This is the same. This is her language.”

Sue looked at her younger brother, impressed. “Okay. Maybe that is something.”

He held up his hand for a high five. “Reed wants to see you in the lab,” she said before slapping his hand.

She didn’t have to tell Johnny twice. He hurried straight there. “You summoned me?”

“I finally knocked it off the list,” Reed said.

Johnny furrowed his brow. “What?”

“The new space suits.”

He turned to see four brand new space suits, all set up and ready to be worn. Johnny was barely even listening to Reed as he examined the suits, then he pulled his brother into a hug. “I take back every single bad thing I’ve been saying about you. To myself. In private.”

Reed didn’t acknowledge the comment. “Are you ready to go back?” he asked.

“Of course,” Johnny said immediately. “I’ve missed it every day.”

“Even if it means leaving your family behind?”

Johnny hesitated. That was true. He thought of you, and your baby girl who would be here so soon - what if he missed the birth entirely? What if you needed him and he wasn’t even on the planet? What if something happened and he wasn’t here to protect you?

“I can see you thinking,” Reed said. “It’s a lot to take in, I know. You’ve been excited to go back, but things are…different now.”

Johnny nodded. Reed was exactly right. It was an unfamiliar feeling for him, to have something here that made Earth a place that was more like a true home. “Can I ask you a question?”

Reed was slightly taken aback. “Of course.”

Johnny sat the suit down and sunk into one of the chairs sitting around the lab. Reed sat across from him - he could tell Johnny had a lot on his mind.

“How are you so calm?” he finally asked his brother in law.

Reed shook his head with a light laugh. “I’m glad you think so, but I certainly don’t feel calm.”

That surprised Johnny. “You don’t?”

“No, of course not,” he said, shaking his head. “Are you kidding? I’ve been panicking for eight months.”

“Seriously?” Johnny asked with a laugh. “You could have fooled me. I’ve been wondering what the hell I’m doing wrong compared to you.”

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Reed assured him. “You’re going great. I can already see it in you - you’re a dad now.”

That hit Johnny like a shot to the chest. He jerked back in surprise. “What? You think so?”

“I can see it in you clearly,” Reed continued. “You’ve been making the transition since you found out. You take care of both your girls like there’s nothing more precious in the world. You put the crib together yourself - I can’t say I did the same,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, but you were in here building that,” Johnny motioned towards the table you’d laid on countless times by now. “You made that to make sure the babies are safe.”

“I did,” Reed agrees. “Sue would have liked me to build the crib.”

Johnny laughed. He was feeling looser, the longer he sat and talked to Reed. Two soon-to-be fathers. The only other man who knew what Johnny was going through right now.

The atmosphere turned quiet. There was something in the air just waiting to be spoken.

“I’m terrified to leave her,” Johnny finally says. “Both of them. I’m scared out of my mind. What if she goes into labor without me?” The thought made his chest hurt. “You know, I’ve waited so long to go back to space, and now I’m going - have to go back - and here I am, wondering if I really want to.”

“You’ve never had something you cared about like this here.”

That was true, Johnny realized. “Yeah,” he said. “You’re right.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “I don’t…I don’t know how to handle it.”

“There’s no easy way,” Reed said - that wasn’t exactly what Johnny had been hoping to hear. “Being in love is irrational and all consuming.”

Being in love.

It hit him like a ton of bricks. He was in love with you. Yeah, he knew that - but did he know it? You hadn’t been together that long, hadn’t even known each other that long before you got pregnant, all things considered. Now, for the first time, he was struck with the uncontrollable urge to run out and buy a ring, to make you his wife, Mrs. Storm.

He had never had those thoughts about anyone before.

“Johnny?” Reed asked, sensing the emotional turmoil in the other man’s head. “You alright?”

Johnny nodded, distracted. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.”

“What’s going on in there?”

Johnny thought for a moment. Then - “Do you want to go on an errand with me?”

You weren’t completely surprised when you got out of the bath and Johnny was gone. There was a mess around the bedroom, all the transmissions Johnny was going through scattered around the turntable. You didn’t touch them - there was usually a method to his madness.

You went through your post-shower routine, doing your hair and putting lotion on your skin - and Johnny still wasn’t back. That was a little strange. It was late.

You were in your pajamas (an oversized shirt and panties), about to go to bed without Johnny at all, when he came abruptly through the bedroom door. The nervous energy was coming off of him in waves - it was clear there was something going on.

“Baby,” he said, moving straight to sit next to you on the bed. He was dressed in his F4 t-shirt and pants from earlier.

“Johnny?” you said, confused and bleary eyed. You waited for him for so long, you were about ready to pass out for the night. “Where were you?”

He held your hands, his thumb rubbing the back of one of them. “Reed wanted to see me,” he said. “He finished the new suits. We’re going to space, to try to negotiate with Galactus.”

The news both did and didn’t come as a shock. You’d known this was inevitable from the night the herald came, but it hadn’t been set until now. “When?”

“Soon,” he said. “I don’t know. Very soon.”

“I can’t go to space with you?” you asked, only half-joking and looking at him with big sad eyes. “Both of us?” You took his hand and laid it over the bump.

Johnny chuckled, looking affectionately down at where his hand rested. He rubbed circles against your belly. “I wish you could,” he said.

You sat in a comfortable silence for a minute.

“Do you think it’s going to work?” you asked him nervously. “Do you think there’s hope of getting through to this…Galactus? Of saving Earth?”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to anyone,” Johnny said firmly. He looked you directly in the face when he said it, flames flickering in his blue eyes.

You trusted him with your whole heart. You knew if Johnny said he was going to make something happen - or keep it from happening - he was going to keep his word.

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” you said.

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“You don’t know what’s gonna happen,” you reminded him gently. His hand stayed protectively where it sat, while your hand rested on the side of his face. He tilted his head, leaning into your touch, letting you cradle his handsome face.

“I just want to know if the surfboard is part of her body,” he said like he was dead serious, and you burst into laughter.

“Johnny Storm, do you ever take anything seriously?” you teased.

He smiled, turning his head to place a kiss on your palm. “Just you.”

Your chest felt warm. You could feel your love for Johnny spreading through your body like the very flames that lived within him.

“There was…” Johnny began, but stopped himself. You didn’t interrupt, wanting to know where he was going. “There was something I wanted to say. Or…ask you?”

Your brows furrowed. “What?”

He gave your belly one last caress before he let go. He stood, pulling your weary body to sit on the edge of the bed in front of him. You were confused, but watched him with an anxious excitement anyway.

Johnny looked nervous. You waited as he stood there, gathering his thoughts - you could practically see the steam coming off his head.

Finally, he said your name. “I just…had something to say.”

“Say it,” you encouraged, laughing lightly - nervous.

He smiled softly at you. “Do you know how much I love you?”

The question caught you off guard. “I think so?” you said - because what kind of question was that really?

“I’m in love with you,” Johnny said, looking at you so intensely it nearly took your breath away. “Completely, wholeheartedly, in love with you. I’ve known for a long time, but it didn’t hit me until today, not- not like this. It’s been there, I just never saw it for what it was.”

“Johnny…” you whispered. “What-“

“I needed to say it,” he said. “I know we haven’t been together that long, all things considered - and I knew I love you, I know we’ve been saying it for a while - but it hit me today, hard, like Ben punched me in the chest or something. Like I’d never known anything, nothing has ever made more sense, than how much I love you. Both of you.”

You were in shock, tears welling up in your eyes. The things he was saying were overwhelming, and completely out of nowhere.

“I just had to do this before we leave.”

“Do what-“

You cut yourself off with a gasp as Johnny dropped to his knee in front of you. He reached his right hand into his pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box.

“Johnny-“ you gasped, your hands flying up to cover your mouth, your eyes wide.

“Marry me,” he said, flipping the box open to reveal a beautiful (way too expensive looking) diamond ring. His deep eyes bore into yours, and it’s like he was communicating every ounce of love in his body to you. It left you shaking. “Be my wife. Spend the rest of forever with me- as a family. My family.”

You were so stunned, the words didn’t come right away. Johnny reached forward with his free hand and wiped the tears you hadn’t noticed off your cheeks with his thumb. “Will you marry me?” he asked, softer this time, his eyes almost pleading.

You nodded. Slowly at first, then faster as more tears spilled down your face. You were pretty sure you would be sobbing even without the extra hormones. “Yes. Oh my god. Are you serious? Yes.”

Johnny’s face broke into a huge grin. He took your shaking left hand in his and slid the ring on your finger - a perfect fit. How did he know?

“You have made me,” he began, “the happiest man in the universe.”

You laughed through the tears, wrapping your arms around Johnny and pulling him into you. He hugged you back with just as much love, lifting you with little effort and spinning you in a circle. You couldn’t stop giggling, the joy overflowing from within you.

He wrapped his arm around your lower back and dipped you backwards as he kissed you passionately, something like from one of those romantic movies you used to watch. You cradled his face with both hands while he held you, communicating just how happy you’d made him by the way he kissed you breathless.

When he stood you back up, his arms still wrapped around you, you laid your foreheads together, just looking into each other’s eyes. You could have gotten lost in that sea of blue.

Mrs. Storm had a ring to it.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face after the proposal. The ring glittered on your hand like a star plucked directly from the sky, just for you. You knew that’s exactly what Johnny would have done if it were possible.

You waddled out into the kitchen, the pancake craving striking once again. It was a good day - you felt light as air, metaphorically at least. It was a low pain day, the baby didn’t have a foot shoved into your spine, and you had an appetite.

Too busy mixing the batter together, you didn’t hear Sue come in. She startled you a little when she came up next to you, and you both laughed.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said. “I was too preoccupied by the pancakes.”

“Craving?”

“Oh yeah.”

Sue smiled. “It’s been pretzel sticks for me, can you believe that? I probably eat a bag myself every couple of days.”

You laughed - it was relatable. “Sounds like Johnny with his Lucky Charms.”

“That’s what I said!” she smiled. She moved around you, grabbing a couple of plates. “Make me some too, would you?”

“Yeah, of course.” You made a little extra batter, mixing it up well before dumping the first pancakes into the pan.

A few minutes later, you and Sue were both leaning against the counter holding a plate of steaming pancakes doused in syrup. You took the first bite and closed your eyes, an unintentional moan escaping your lips. “God. So good.”

“They are,” Sue said after swallowing her first bite. “You make a mean pancake.”

You chatted lightly with Sue until you’d both finished your plates. She helped you wash them up, then leaned back against the counter. She smoothed her hand over her belly as she looked at some papers she had brought with her before putting them away.

“Where’s Reed?” you asked, just wanting to break the silence again.

“Lab,” she said. “Working on things for the mission. I was just about to head down to join him.”

You nodded. “Johnny wanted to work on his cars today. I told him go - it’s not like he’ll have much time for them for a little while.”

Sue smiled at you. “You’re really good to him, you know that?”

You were surprised, both by the randomness of the comment and the sentimentality of it. She had never said anything like that to you before.

“You- you think so?” you asked, unsure of what else to say. You certainly weren’t close with Sue - she was older than Johnny, and was usually too busy to sit and chat with you outside of group settings.

“I can see it,” she said. She sighed. “You know, Johnny…after our mother died, I helped raise him. He’s my closest family - he’s important to me. I always wanted to see him find a girl to settle down with, to be happy with…I’m glad he found you. I’m glad it’s you.”

Utterly speechless, you gaped at her, your eyes teary. Hadn’t you done enough crying? When you finally picked your jaw up off the floor and shook yourself out of it, you spoke. “I- thank you. Johnny means everything to me, I- I want to make him happy.”

Sue reached forward and took your hand in hers. She held it under the light, the ring shining, and smiled. “He loves you,” she said. “I know you know this, but…I don’t know if you understand how much without knowing him the way I do.”

Your heart thudded. You thought of Johnny - and how you loved him, too. How he had told you just how much he loved you last night - and showed you after. “I love him too,” you said. “More than anything. Him and the baby.”

“He’s going to be the best dad, you know,” she smiled, dropping your hand. She looked down at your stomach now - you were standing practically bump to bump.

You felt a strong kick at that moment. You gasped, placing your hand over the spot where you’d felt it - and noticed Sue had done the same thing to her own belly.

“You felt that too?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

You still felt it. It’s like she was trying to get comfortable in one specific position. You took Sue’s hand in yours and placed it where the movement was for her to feel.

She looked up at you, her expression unreadable. Leaving her hand on your belly, she took your hand with her free one, and pressed it against the same exact spot on her own body. There was nothing from either of you, and then-

A kick. Two kicks. One from each side at the exact same time. Your wide eyes met Sue’s own.

“How interesting…” she finally said as you parted, as if in total awe.

“The cousins are excited to meet each other, it looks like,” you said lightly with an awkward laugh, but even you knew that was bizarre.

“Yeah, must be,” she said - but it was clear her mind was working. A moment later, she seemingly shook it off. “Anyway…that’s what I wanted to say, because I haven’t said it enough. You’re my sister. You’re good for my brother. You make him happy- he loves you, and I love you.”

She pulled you into a hug. “Welcome to the family, officially.”

The day of the launch came upon you faster than you expected. You woke up that morning sick to your stomach, and it had nothing to do with the baby. But you knew this had to be done - they were saving the world.

You had spent the night before wrapped in Johnny’s arms. He’d wanted to make love to you, as he put it, wanted to be as close to you as possible before he left. He didn’t get as much sleep as you would have liked him to before the launch.

Johnny held you on the bottom floor of the Baxter Building, dressed in his spacesuit already with the helmet sitting by his feet. He kissed you with every bit of passion in his body - which was a lot. You were going to miss your fiancè so badly, you didn’t care what anyone thought about the two of you practically making out in front of everyone.

Reed walked by, tapping Johnny on the shoulder to let him know it was time to go. He pulled back, his lips kiss swollen and pink. He grinned at you, but there was sadness behind his eyes. You couldn’t muster up as enthusiastic of a smile.

“Everything is going to be okay,” Johnny said. “You’re going to be fine. Herbie is going to take care of you, you have a whole team-“

“I’m not worried about me,” you cut him off. “I’m worried about you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” he said. “We can take care of ourselves, I promise you. We’re going to go fix this mess.” He pulled you back into another lingering kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Johnny,” you said. You rested your hands on his cheeks, the diamond on your finger flashing. Reporters ran over to start taking photos - you knew that would be in the magazines tomorrow. You didn’t pay them any mind. You and Johnny might as well have been the only people in the room.

He placed both hands on your 8 months pregnant stomach, looking down at it. “Please take care of yourself. If anything is weird, tell Herbie and he’ll call your doctors.”

“I got it, Johnny,” you said. You’d been over this countless times in the days leading up to this. “I’ll be careful. I’ll be alright.”

Johnny nodded. Then he knelt down on the ground, surprising you. The camera flashes kept going off as he kissed your bump, still holding it with so much affection it nearly took your breath away - and completely distracted you from how much attention was on the two of you.

“I love you, baby girl,” he said to your belly. “You better stay cookin’ in there for me. Don’t come out until Daddy gets back from space, okay?” She kicked his hand and he smiled.

You giggled. “I think she hears you.”

Johnny stood and wrapped his arms around you again. He pulled you into one final kiss, full of emotion and want. “I’ve gotta go,” he said, once he’d reluctantly parted from you. “Please be safe. I love you. Both of you. I’ll be back as soon as we can manage.”

You nodded, tears brimming in your eyes. “I love you too, Johnny.”

He kissed you on the forehead and then he was picking up his helmet, walking backwards for a little while to look at you as long as he could. He smiled, waved, then turned and joined the others, leaving you alone.

Well, ‘alone’. You were surrounded by people. You joined the crowd, carefully making your way to somewhere you could have a good view.

Johnny, Sue, Reed, and Ben walked the walkway to the spaceship. This was your first time seeing Johnny go to space since you’d been together, and as much as you missed him and didn’t want him to go, it filled you with pride. Your Johnny really was incredible, super powers or not. You held your bump protectively as you watched.

They were being filmed as they made their way onto the elevator. At the top, they walked onto the ship. Johnny paused right before boarding - he looked around until he found a camera. He stared directly into the camera and mouthed your name, with a blown kiss and an emphatic I love you.

The crowd awwed, and you could hardly see Johnny disappearing onto the ship through the tears in your eyes. You rubbed your belly - You see that, little one? Your daddy loves us more than anything.

The countdown began, and your stomach tightened in knots. You knew how dangerous launches and landings could be.

“3…2…1.”

The ship took off, rising into the air. Your heart ached as you watched them go, knowing it would be a long time before you saw Johnny again. You would see him again - you weren’t entertaining any other possibilities.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve had a successful launch.”

You couldn’t believe he was gone, they were really gone. Before you could dwell too much on their absence and how much you would miss every one of them, you turned and let Herbie lead you out of the crowd and back upstairs.

It wasn’t hard to find Galactus, not really. They were able to track the herald straight to him.

Upon arrival, she greeted them on their ship.

“Galactus will see you. All of you…you should not have come.”

Now, standing before Galactus - a giant, possessing more power than they had even pictured - they attempted to negotiate. But some prices are too high to pay.

“I will spare your world,” Galactus said with finality, “in exchange for both the boy and the girl.”

“What?” Sue said, incredulous. “No.”

“Absolutely not,” Johnny said, looking around at the others for validation that they agreed. “No. No way.”

“They are connected. They both possess the power of cosmic, and they together will inherit this cursed throne.”

What?

“They’re just- they’re normal,” Reed lied nervously. “We would know. I tested them myself.”

Galactus leaned in, eyes glowing purple. Sue grabbed her stomach at that moment, groaning in pain. She looked around at the others in a panic - and for once, Johnny’s blood went cold with fear.

“What are you doing to her??” he yelled.

“You won’t have our planet,” Reed said, “and you will never have our children!”

But it was happening. Whatever Galactus had done - Sue was in labor.

The pain came when you were home alone. You’d been in the kitchen, mixing up the batter to make your biggest craving - a chocolate cake. You felt fine, good even - but then a horrible pain stretched across your stomach.

You wrapped your hand around it, holding onto the counter for support as you cried out. Herbie sped into the room, making what you could best describe as concerned beeps.

“Herbie,” you said, your voice strained. “I think- I think something’s wrong. I think we need to call somebody.”

Herbie beeped again, then took off - contacting your medical team, you hoped. The pain was getting worse, coming in fast. You figured you had to be having contractions at least once every two minutes - this was the real deal. And Johnny was gone.

You couldn’t help it - you panicked. You lowered yourself to the floor amidst the pain of another contraction, and you sobbed. You were terrified. Of all the scenarios you’d come up with, doing this alone hadn’t been one of them.

It was only minutes later when a team of medical professionals came bursting into the room - Johnny and Reed had left you with a team ready at a moment’s notice in case of emergencies. It was a coveted position - every medical professional in the city wanted to be involved in the birth of the two newest Fantastic Four members. You didn’t like your child being seen as a spectacle.

You were screaming through another contraction, a white knuckled grip on the side of the counter as it passed through you. The doctors and nurses got to work fast. It was humiliating having a stranger up your skirt, but you had to have a cervical check.

It hurt, but the pain was already everywhere. It was the look on the nurse’s face after she checked you that scared you, though.

“The baby is coming right now,” she said. “We have to do it here.”

Back on the ship, things were progressing. Sue was in the back, laboring in zero gravity. Ben was steering the ship while Johnny and Reed helped.

“Do you think-“ Johnny asked Reed quietly, but he didn’t even have to finish his question.

“She might be,” Reed said seriously. Johnny felt like he might throw up.

“We need to strap her down,” Reed said, back into action, moving through the ship towards his wife.

“Strapping her down,” Johnny moved to help.

“Do not strap me down!” she yelled, pushing Johnny away - who quickly backed off.

“You need gravity to push,” Reed told her, helping her lay back on the table.

“This is not how it’s supposed to be,” she said, breathing through the pain. Sue was remarkably brave, but right now, she had to admit she was scared.

“I know, but we’re gonna make it work.” Reed helped to hold her down, multitasking while he helped Ben and Johnny, concerned they didn’t have enough fuel to make it home. Their only option was a slingshot maneuver - which they put into action.

“He’s coming,” Sue announced. “He’s coming.”

Her pants kicked off, it was time to start pushing. She pushed and pushed as the ship made its journey.

Sue became invisible. Reed held her - it was silent. She reappeared, and-

A cry sounded through the air. A tiny little hand raising high - and a beautiful baby boy curled in Ben’s hand. He held him out to Reed, who took the precious little guy in his arms - bringing him to his mother. Sue held her baby boy in her arms, Reed cradled around them both.

Johnny came floating back from the front of the ship. His blue eyes were wide as he saw his nephew for the first time - a perfect baby.

He thought of you. He thought of his daughter. And he prayed you were both okay, that he hadn’t missed the birth. That Galactus didn’t want his daughter or his nephew. That he’d get home and you’d run into his arms, healthy and still pregnant.

But for now, he caressed the chubby cheek of the baby with his index finger, and looked into the exhausted eyes of his sister - one of the strongest women he’d ever known.

Franklin Richards was here.

The only coherent thought you could muster was I wish Johnny was here. It repeated through your head, like a prayer, like the ship might descend that very second and he’d come running to your side if you wished for it hard enough.

But you were on your own, about to give birth on the living room floor without your boyfriend. In a room full of strangers looking at your most intimate parts, Herbie was your only friend. He stood nearby, attempting to be a comfort. It worked somewhat.

“It’s time to push,” the doctor said between your legs. “I need you to push hard on every contraction.”

You nodded. You could do this. You may not have been a superhero, or a genius, but you were strong and you could get through this, with or without Johnny. You felt angry in that moment, angry at Johnny for not being here, angry at him for leaving you, angry at him for getting you pregnant in the first place. It wasn’t rational, but it was there.

At the start of the next contraction, you gritted your teeth and pushed. You pushed with everything you had, the pain shooting through your body like electricity. When you couldn’t take it anymore you let go, falling back against the pillows they had put behind you and breathing heavily.

You’d heard pushing could last for an hour or more sometimes - but that wasn’t the case here. This baby was coming now. Another contraction flared and you pushed down again, screaming though the pain and the pressure.

Three pushes later, and the doctor spoke up excitedly from below. “She’s crowning,” she said. “Just one more good push for me, you’ve got this.”

The next contraction crashed into you and you mustered up every bit of energy in your exhausted, sore body to push as hard as you could. You screamed through it, a deep, primal scream.

The pain was gone. An immense relief left behind, you fell back against the makeshift bed and breathed. You opened your teary eyes, a nurse using a cloth to wipe the sweat off your brow.

Then you heard it. A cry. Your heart stopped in your chest as the doctor handed the bundle to you.

You took it, pushing the blanket down below her little chin to see her full face. She was gorgeous. Johnny’s little twin for sure. She opened her blue eyes and looked up at you - you swore you had never felt love in your life like you did in that moment.

Celeste Storm was here.

Early days with Celeste were difficult, yet blissful. You only wished for Johnny, that he could be there to experience it with you (and help a bit). Herbie was a great help, essentially waiting on you hand and foot while you recovered.

It has been a month since the births when the ship descended back home.

Johnny had been in a perpetual state of anxiety since Galactus. He was worried sick about you, to the point that Reed, Sue, and Ben were worried about him.

His stomach was in knots as they descended, and not just from the motion of the spacecraft. As they landed, he could see the crowd running to greet them, and he wondered where you were amongst it. You had to be here, right?

People were running from all over the city to see their return. There was no way you weren’t part of it. His eyes scanned the crowd who still looked like ants, as if he could see you from this distance.

“She’s okay,” Sue assured Johnny, placing her hand on his arm while the other cradled baby Franklin. “She’s a strong girl. She’s okay.”

Johnny just nodded. He wanted to believe his sister, because he wanted that to be true more than anything.

They rode the elevator down together. He had never been so quiet before - his mind was running too quickly to speak. Reed patted him on the back from behind him.

When the elevator landed, they could hear the deafening cheers. Ben walked off first, then Johnny, who scanned the crowd immediately. He didn’t see you - but maybe you were waiting inside where they would stop to speak? Yeah, that made sense.

Reed and Sue were behind him with Franklin, and the crowd went crazy the second they saw them. They smiled politely at the crowd, Sue holding the baby close to her chest while Reed had his arm around her.

They were led into the Baxter Building where the press were waiting. They mobbed them, and Johnny was so overwhelmed by the flashing lights, yelling voices, and no sight of you even in here, that he started to feel panicked.

“Give them space!”

“They’re ready for you,” Reed was told, with a gesture towards the podium. None of them wanted to speak. There was no good news to share. All Johnny wanted to do was see his fiancée.

Reed took the podium, glancing back over his shoulder at the rest of the team. Johnny continued scanning the crowd, not seeing a single sight of you. He was feeling more sick by the second. Where were you? It wasn’t like you to miss this. What if something had happened to you while he was gone and no one told him?

Something was wrong.

“I’m sorry we don’t have a prepared statement,” Reed said, sparking unrest in the crowd. Everyone raised their hand for a question.

“Welcome back,” one of the reporters said. “Can you walk us through how you defeated Galactus?”

It was silent.

“Um…” Reed said, looking back to Johnny and Ben for some kind of help.

“We didn’t,” Ben said simply.

“Not…yet!” Johnny said, with little enthusiasm. “Not yet, we didn’t.”

The crowd murmured. This wasn’t going well.

“What do you mean you didn’t?”

“We attempted to negotiate,” Reed said. “But Galactus…he asked too high a price.”

“Well, what does he want?” “What did he ask?”

Reed felt sick. Johnny really thought he might be. They exchanged a look - fear, in both of their eyes. Would this put a target on their backs? On their children’s backs? Reed looked back out into the crowd.

“He asked for our children,” he said, gesturing to Sue and Johnny. Sue stood behind, holding Franklin protectively as more worry spread through the crowd. “He said give us both children, and I will spare the Earth.” A murmur rose in the crowd. “We said no, obviously. We said no.”

Everyone started speaking at once.

“You said no?”

“Would giving Galactus the children save us?”

Done with this and with fire burning beneath Johnny’s skin, the four turned to leave.

“Wait, just answer this, answer this!” someone called. They stopped and turned. “Are we safe?”

“Are we safe?” Reed repeated. “I don’t know.”

The crowd began speaking at once again, upset. Ben waved Reed off and they left the room, the reporters yelling after them.

“She wasn’t there,” Johnny said to the others once they were safely on the elevator. “She wasn’t…there.”

“She’s probably in the house,” Sue said gently. “Maybe she isn’t feeling well, or couldn’t come down in time. Herbie has her.”

Johnny nodded, but he didn’t feel much better.

With the spacesuit stripped off, he was left in his F4 t-shirt and sweatpants. When the elevator doors opened to the house, Johnny rushed in, looking for any sign of you.

It didn’t take him long.

You sat on the couch, a blanket wrapped around your lap. The TV was on to the news broadcast of the landing. You looked up at him and the others as they entered, a teary smile on your face.

“Johnny,” you said, your voice thick with emotion.

But it was the bundle in your arms that stopped him short. Slowly, cautiously, almost like he was scared, he approached you.

And he fell to his knees.

The baby girl in your arms opened her blue eyes and peered over at him. She was beautiful - more beautiful than he ever could have pictured. Perfection. He reached out a shaking hand and laid it on her, like he couldn’t believe she was real.

“…Oh my god,” he said.

Totally forgotten by him, Reed, Sue, and Ben stood behind, watching the moment. Johnny leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the baby’s head, before looking up at you with wonder in his eyes.

“She’s here,” he said, like he was trying to wrap his mind around it. Saying it didn’t make it feel any more real - he felt like he was dreaming.

“She was born about a month ago,” you said gently, softly running your fingers over the baby’s fine hair. “Shortly after you left.”

“A month?” Johnny asked. He turned to look at the others - who seemed to be thinking the same thing he was. Galactus.

Turning back to you, Johnny rested a hand on the side of your face and pulled you into a gentle kiss. Then he was focused on the child again, his child, his baby girl. He was in awe.

“She’s beautiful,” he said, his fingertips just barely trailing over her smooth skin. She shifted, reached a little hand up, and wrapped her fingers around one of Johnny’s. His heart stuttered, and he choked out the quietest sob.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, looking up at you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know, I- if I had known this would happen I wouldn’t have left you, I swear.”

“It’s okay, Johnny,” you said softly. You ran your fingers through his blonde hair. “You couldn’t have known.”

He laid his head against you, gazing down at his daughter. She really was incredible - he’d gotten to see her the one time, but it was nothing like this. It was nothing like seeing his child, here, earthside.

“Do you want to hold her?” you asked him. It seemed like he was too stunned to ask himself.

He looked at you with his blue eyes wide. “Really?”

You laughed. “Johnny, she’s your daughter.”

He nodded. Yeah, she was. And he could do this. You lifted her towards him and he slowly reached out, taking the bundle from your arms. The transfer was so slow and careful, and once he had her he cradled her close to his chest. Johnny held her, his strong arms now so delicate with his baby girl. A single tear trailed down his cheek.

They gazed at each other, both mesmerized by the other. Celeste cooed softly, making her little baby noises, and Johnny’s heart cracked. Oh, she had him wrapped around her little finger from day one.

“Hi, baby girl,” he said quietly, only for her. “I’m…I’m your daddy. I can’t believe you’re here. I’ve been so excited to meet you.”

Celeste cooed again, her little arms moving jerkily, still not used to moving her own body. She looked all around, but kept returning to Johnny’s face. She reached up and touched his nose, and he chuckled.

He was a natural with her. He looked back over his shoulder at the others finally, who all looked like they might also cry. He waved them over. They approached the three of you, peering down at the baby.

“Oh, she’s perfect,” Sue said.

“Nice job,” Reed said, patting Johnny on the shoulder with a brotherly smile.

“Hi there,” Ben said, looking down at her. She gave him the biggest smile that he couldn’t help but return.

But baby Franklin was watching her closely. Johnny turned her so she could see her cousin, and the babies reached for one another. Sue and Johnny held them closer as they reached for each other, fingers brushing together. Like they had a connection of some kind, drawn together.

“Interesting,” Reed mumbled. He would need to run some tests - there was a link here, and he needed to find out what it was.

After the tearful reunion, everyone returned to their own quarters. They were all exhausted and relieved to be back home. Johnny sat on the bed, holding baby Celeste while she slept. You moved throughout the room, gathering pajamas and a clean diaper.

“The surfboard is not part of her body, by the way,” Johnny said randomly.

You laughed - “What?”

“I just needed to know! I was curious.”

You smiled as you moved back over to the bed. “Well, I’m glad you found out,” you said. Johnny chuckled.

He told you all about their trip while he helped you change Celeste and put her to bed. He told you everything - the flight, seeing Galactus, chasing the herald and running away. Galactus wanting the babies - which you’d heard on the broadcast. It worried you sick, but he promised there was nothing to worry about.

He wouldn’t let anyone touch a single hair on Celeste or Franklin’s heads, that was for sure.

In the days after their return, everyone was hard at work trying to figure out what was to be done about Galactus. Johnny didn’t want you and Celeste out of his sight, so you spent a lot of time sitting in Reed’s lab with the baby girl on your lap, or doing tummy time on the floor with Franklin.

The truth was, they didn’t know what to do. Giving the children to Galactus was completely off the table, obviously, but so was putting Earth in danger. They suggested blowing the ship up, and running, but neither would work. There had to be something to be figured out. You just wished you could be more help.

“Reed, you wanna take us through what you have?” Sue asked.

“What I have?” he turned. “What I have is nothing.”

“Nothing? Did you say nothing?” Johnny asked. He glanced at you where you sat feeding Celeste.

“I have the samples from Galactus’ ship,” Reed said, handing out some papers for you all to see. “All evidence suggests he predates our universe, our reality. You could take 10 years to understand his composition, let alone his existence.”

“So you’re talking about a god?” Sue asked.

“I’m talking about something beyond our experience. An unknowable life, who imagines Franklin and Celeste as his successors in possessing some kind of cosmic power.”

“That can’t be true, right?” Ben asked, looking at the others. “You ran all those tests.”

“I have, but I don’t know what can or can not be. I’m not sure of anything.” He was getting frustrated. “Celeste has the X-gene, Franklin does not - at least, not that I saw.” He turned, walking back to the chalkboard. “I have nothing. I have nothing!”

You had never known Reed to have nothing. The idea scared you more than you wanted to admit. No one had anything, no one knew how to keep the babies and Earth safe.

Since the trip, Johnny had spent every moment he wasn’t with Celeste hard at work trying to decode the herald’s language. He knew that could give them answers, and that’s what they needed more than anything.

You spent your days caring for Celeste while the Four were hard at work. Johnny spent as much time as he could with the two of you, and it killed him to be away from her, but you both knew the fate of the world hung in the balance.

Reed ran seemingly endless tests on both Franklin and Celeste. No new answers were coming forth.

“It’s getting bad out there,” Ben said one night as the family was in the living room together. Johnny held Celeste, who was wearing a little Flame on! onesie. Ben turned the TV on.

“It seems to me they have no plan for Galactus,” some idiot on a talk show was saying. “We as a society have to reckon with the idea that the Fantastic Four could save us today, but they choose not to. The idea is simple - Reed Richards and Sue Storm, and Johnny Storm and that girl of his, hand over their babies and we all live.”

Sue blew the TV up. No one had a problem with that. Out on the balcony, there was a mob visible right outside the front doors.

“Give us the babies!”

“They’re scared,” Reed said.

“Who isn’t scared?” Johnny asked. He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder as he patted a sleeping Celeste on his chest. “That…is scary.”

Everyone was stressed. The discussion was constantly going in circles, no one coming up with anything new.

“Right now we don’t have a workable plan, and the clock is ticking. So their plan looks good. It’s…available,” Reed said.

“What are you saying?” Sue asked.

“I’m not…saying anything.”

The baby monitor lit up as Franklin started crying. Sue left to go attend to him, Reed following behind her. You were left at the table sitting silently with Johnny and Ben.

“Let me take her,” you said gently, taking Celeste from Johnny’s arms. He let you take her, although he was reluctant to let her go. He never felt like she was properly safe unless she was in his arms.

You were in the kitchen, making yourself busy, when Sue approached you with Franklin in her arms.

“Come with me,” she said.

The mob outside was angry. They held anti-F4 signs, yelled horrible things, demanding the babies.

And you followed Sue through the crowd, Celeste clutched tightly to your chest and Franklin to hers. You knew Sue wouldn’t let anything happen to any of you. Everyone stared as you walked through, making it to the middle where you stood together.

The crowd looked at the two of you expectantly. You weren’t sure where Sue was going with this, but you trusted her.

“I wanted to introduce you to someone,” she began. “This is our son, Franklin. And this is his cousin, Celeste. There’s been a lot of talk about both of them.” She stopped to compose herself. “Most of you know me. You know my story. When Johnny and I were kids, our parents were in a car crash. Our dad was driving, and he lived, but our mom didn’t. I know what it’s like to be a part of a family that was torn apart. Our dad wasn’t always a great father, but he wanted to be. He did his best. He wanted us to be together because that’s what a family is. It’s about fighting for something bigger than yourself. It’s about connecting to something bigger than yourself.”

Celeste wiggled in your arms. You and Sue both turned, seeing Johnny, Reed, and Ben coming out behind you. You smiled tearfully at Johnny - and he looked at you like he was proud.

“It’s about having something bigger than yourself,” Sue continued. “And the four of us already do because we have you. You know, our mom always used to say, Susie, for you, I would move heaven and earth. And we would do that for you. We will not sacrifice our children for this world. But we will not sacrifice this world for our children. We will face this together. We will fight this together. And we will defeat this together. As a family.”

The crowd clapped, and you wiped a tear away. Sue’s speech had been beautiful, and it seemed to have gotten through to everyone. You were filled with relief for Celeste - you’d barely slept an hour since the public turned on you all, terrified someone would manage to break in.

As soon as he could, Johnny had his arms back on you, leading you back inside.

“That was amazing,” he said, “and so, so reckless.”

“But it worked?” you offered. He smiled at you, leaning down and kissing you.

“Yeah. Looks like it did.”

You were walking back to the elevator as a family when Reed spoke up.

“Archimedes,” he said. You all turned. “The law of levers. Give me a lever and a place to stand and I will move the earth. We are going to move heaven and earth.”

That was something. You took a step closer to him.

“Well, just earth,” he continued. “Sue…you solved it. We are going to move earth to a place that Galactus will never find us.”

With an idea, plans were underway. It would take the cooperation of the entire globe to pull off - but they thought it could work.

You spent as much time with Johnny and Celeste as you could. He was an incredible dad, truly. He spent most of his time preparing to put the plan into action, but his favorite time of the day was when he could relax in bed with you.

He laid back, Celeste sleeping on his shirtless chest. He was drowsy himself, his eyes half lidded as he slowly rubbed her back. Fresh out of your shower, you joined him on the bed.

“Ready for me to put her in bed?” you asked him gently.

He cracked an eye open to look at you. “Not just yet. I wanna hold her a little longer.”

You smiled. “Okay.” You laid down on the bed next to him. You looked at the clock just in time to see it strike 8pm, and all the power went out. The global power curfew was in effect to conserve what the bridges would require.

In the dark, you laid your tired head on Johnny’s shoulder. He felt content for the first time in a long time - his family together, a plan in motion. Hope for the future.

He may not know how things were going to turn out, or who Celeste would grow up to be. But he knew as long as he was with his family - they would be okay.

He would make sure of it.

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shortnspidey · 21 days ago

Text

NONSENSE

Johnny Storm X Female!reader || WC: 5.6K

SUMMARY: Being best friends with Johnny Storm had always come naturally, maybe a little too naturally. Somewhere between late-night movies and whispered secrets, your feelings began to shift. But you kept them to yourself, tucking the crush away and convincing yourself that friendship was more than enough. So when Susan and Reed ask you to help Johnny watch Franklin, you agree without hesitation. What could go wrong?

WARNINGS: Contains minor Fantastic Four: First Steps Spoilers! Established friendship, eventual friends to lovers, cursing, oblivious idiots in love, fluff galore, flirty banter, Reed and Susan are unintentional matchmakers, domestic uncle!Johnny, slight angst, suggestiveness but no smut!

A/N: The way Johnny acted whenever he interacted with Franklin had to be one of my favorite parts of the entire movie! Men that are good with kids are just INCREDIBLY attractive. So this one-shot is purely self-indulgent! Hope we get more of them in the future!! Divider by @saradika-graphics <3

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The Baxter Building had practically become your second home. Between late-night movie marathons, joining impromptu family dinners, and Susan’s gentle insistence that you never needed an invitation. It's safe to say you’d spent more time there than in your own apartment lately. The elevator doors gave a gentle chime before gliding open, revealing the sleek, interior of the Fantastic Four’s private floor.

H.E.R.B.I.E. zipped into view the moment you stepped out, whirring cheerfully with blinking lights and enthusiastic beeps that filled the hallway like confetti. You laughed and crouched down slightly, holding out your hand as the robot spun in a delighted little circle. “Hello, H.E.R.B.I.E., you miss me already?” You grinned, giving the top of his head an affectionate tap.

Before you could ask about the others, a familiar figure emerged from around the corner in a whirlwind of motion. Reed Richards looked like he'd just walked out of a scientific hurricane, shirt slightly wrinkled, tie askew, and hair in the kind of tousled state only existential stress could cause. “Oh, thank goodness.” He breathed, already halfway across the hall and closing the distance with long, purposeful strides.

In a rare show of affection, he wrapped you into a brief but firm hug, clinging like a man about to board a rocket. “Jeez, Reed,” You chuckled, stepping back as he released you. “Don’t you look thrilled for date night.” His expression twisted with half a smile and half a wince as he ran a hand down his face, fingers tugging at the collar of his shirt like it was suffocating him. Behind him, H.E.R.B.I.E. let out a low, sympathetic beep.

Reed pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something that sounded a lot like a plea to the universe. “Johnny.” That was all you needed. One name, and the entire situation became crystal clear. Your best friend was a whirlwind of chaotic energy, and wherever he went, trouble wasn’t far behind, usually smiling, charming, and completely unapologetic.

Almost as if summoned by name, or more likely because he had been eavesdropping, Johnny Storm burst into the room like a one-man parade. “There’s my favorite girl!” He announced, arms already open wide. Before you could react, he was scooping you up in a familiar, dizzying spin, his laughter rumbling against your ear. You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped you, the sound bubbling up like it always did around him, effortless, easy.

Only when he seemed satisfied with the display of affection did he finally set you back down, but even then, his hands lingered on your waist like he hadn’t quite decided to let you go. You didn't exactly mind. When the room stopped spinning, you looked up, and instantly regretted it. God, he looked good. Too good. A maroon bomber jacket was thrown over a white tee, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows with casual flair, displaying his veiny forearms that never failed to make your mouth water.

His blonde hair, annoyingly perfect as always, caught the light just enough to look sun-kissed, and those blue eyes sparkled with mischief, like he was already planning his next stunt. Behind him, Reed cleared his throat meaningfully. Johnny glanced over his shoulder with a grin that was all innocence and zero guilt, as if he hadn’t just been encouraging a toddler to weaponize household objects moments prior.

“Causing trouble already?” You asked, folding your arms with mock sternness and one raised brow. “Me? Never.” He winked, oozing charm, though the mischief in his eyes betrayed him completely. At last, his hands dropped from your waist, and even that small absence left your skin tingling. You tried to focus as he dashed off, already on a mission to corral the minefield of toys strewn across the living room floor.

You watched as he picked up a stuffed alien by one leg, then a miniature drum, and then immediately dropped both to make a siren noise with a plastic fire truck. Unsurprisingly, the room was destined to be chaos again the moment Franklin reentered it, but Johnny was at least pretending to tidy up, which was worth something. “How do you deal with him?” Reed asked, sounding as exhausted as he looked.

He stood there taking in the sight of his brother-in-law playing with his son's toys, rubbing at his temple with the air of a man who knew he’d never truly be free of the chaos. You offered a shrug, casual but fond. “Years of practice. He grows on you, eventually.” You didn’t even have to look to know Johnny had heard you. A dramatic gasp echoed behind you, followed by the sound of him stumbling backward as if wounded.

“Hey! I can hear you!” He cried, one hand over his heart like you’d mortally offended him. Grinning, you stuck your tongue out at him like the mature adult that you were. Before Johnny could retaliate, probably with a pillow launched in your direction or another lecture about how everyone secretly loved him, a small blur shot around the corner like a pint-sized comet.

“Y/N!” You turned just in time, crouching down with open arms as Franklin launched himself at you. His tiny body slammed into your chest, and you caught him easily, steadying the both of you with a laugh. “Whoa, careful there, sweetheart.” You chuckled, pulling him in tight. His little hands curled around your neck as if he hadn't seen you in years, and you pressed your face into his soft hair.

“My goodness,” You whispered, leaning back to take a better look at him. “You have got to stop growing.” You showered his chubby cheeks in kisses, laughing as he giggled uncontrollably, little legs kicking in excitement. The sound lit something up in you, pure, uncomplicated joy, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded out. All that mattered was the warmth of Franklin’s hug and the sound of his happiness echoing off the walls.

Which is why, you didn’t notice Johnny had stopped moving. Across the room, he stood frozen mid-step, a toy truck dangling forgotten from one hand. His usual smirk had softened into something quieter, eyes fixed on you and Franklin like he was watching a dream he hadn’t dared name. There was something in his expression, something fond, unguarded, maybe even a little stunned. For once, Johnny Storm was speechless.

“Y/N, hello darling.” Susan’s voice broke through the chorus of giggles still echoing in the room. You glanced up to find her walking in with effortless grace, powder blue dress nipped at the waist, pearl earrings, blonde hair pinned up in soft curls. Even when wrangling genius husbands and precocious toddlers, Susan Storm somehow made it look easy. You shifted Franklin on your hip, his arms still looped loosely around your neck as you rose to greet her.

“Hi, Sue, you look gorgeous.” You grinned, wrapping one arm around her in a warm hug. “Thank you.” She returned the smile, her eyes softening as she squeezed your hand with that calm, nurturing energy only she could exude. Her gaze drifted to Franklin, then flicked briefly toward Johnny, who was now pretending to inspect the bookshelf but had clearly not stopped watching you since you walked in.

A knowing glimmer sparkled in her eyes, but she let it pass with only a subtle lift of her brow. “Are you sure this isn’t an inconvenience?” She asked gently, though the hesitation in her voice told you she already felt guilty. “I know watching a toddler on a Friday night isn’t exactly ideal.” You scoffed before she could finish the thought, pulling Franklin a little closer. His sleepy weight pressed against you like he belonged there.

“He’s my godson, there’s really nowhere else I’d rather be.” You replied easily, brushing a bit of hair from Franklin’s forehead before placing a loving kiss on his forehead. “Get outta here, lovebirds.” Johnny chimed in, slipping an arm over your shoulders with the casual ease of someone who’d been doing it since childhood. His other hand waved dramatically toward the door. “Franklin’s in fantastic hands.”

You rolled your eyes, snorting at the awful pun. “Really?” You muttered under your breath, elbowing him lightly in the ribs. He grinned, utterly unapologetic, and leaned a little more of his weight against you like he had no intention of moving anytime soon. “Both children will be in one piece when you two come back.” You promised, giving Johnny a pointed side glance.

Susan let out a quiet chuckle, her eyes flicking toward her brother, clearly amused. “We won’t be out too late,” She assured again, though her tone had softened, more relaxed now. “If he gets fussy, there are snacks in the kitchen, and his bedtime is around eight.” Reed reappeared from the hallway, his composure mostly restored, tie straightened, coat neatly draped over one arm.

With his usual efficiency, he helped Susan into her coat, adjusting the shoulders with a care that made you momentarily forget he was the world’s most distracted genius. Before leaving, Susan turned one last time, her gaze resting on you and Franklin, and just briefly, on the way Johnny’s arm still lingered around you, fingers absentmindedly tracing idle patterns against your upper arm.

She mouthed one final thank you, before slipping through the front door with Reed in tow. The soft click of the latch left behind a hush that settled over the room, which left just you, Franklin, and Johnny. “So,” He drawled, quirking a brow, blue eyes fixed on you. “You, me, and one dangerously powerful toddler. What could possibly go wrong?” You smirked. “Everything.” And somehow, you were looking forward to every second of it.

As predicted, the moment you set Franklin down, he making a beeline straight for the living room. Without hesitation, he scooped up as many toy cars as his tiny arms could manage, cradling them to his chest like precious cargo. He dropped to his knees with all the focused determination of a world-class engineer, lining up the miniature vehicles in a meticulous row alongside the winding, high-tech racetrack Reed had crafted in the lab.

Johnny wasted no time. He vaulted over the back of the couch like a kid on Christmas morning, skidding into place beside Franklin on the rug. Within seconds, he was deep in the throes of an imaginary race, arms outstretched, making high-pitched engine noises, mimicking tight turns, screeching tires, and dramatic crashes. At one point, he even narrated the race in a terrible British accent, which made Franklin laugh so hard he rolled backward into a pile of pillows.

You leaned against the doorway, arms folded, unable to wipe the smile off your face. Watching Johnny with Franklin was unfair in every way. He looked too good like this, lit up from the inside out, eyes crinkled with laughter, hair slightly mussed from all the movement. Your ovaries were overwhelmed with joy, hormones, and entirely inappropriate thoughts that you had absolutely no business entertaining while a two-year-old was in the room.

To distract yourself, you busied yourself in the kitchen. The warm light over the counter glowed like amber as you set out apple slices, crackers, and a juice box, arranging them on a plate shaped like a cartoon spaceship. But, toddlers are nothing if not delightfully unpredictable. “Uncle Johnny’s loud.” Franklin announced from the floor before trotting over to you, toy car still clutched in one hand. “Book now, pwease.”

With zero resistance, you scooped him up and headed for the couch, already grabbing the well-worn copy of The Very Hungry Caterpillar from where it laid on the coffee table. Franklin nestled into your side like he belonged there, head on your shoulder, thumb in his mouth. You flipped open the book, voice gentle as you began to read. Or at least, you tried to read.

You stumbled over words you’d read a hundred times before, tongue tripping more than you’d like to admit, not because of Franklin, who was happily turning pages too soon, but because Johnny was watching you. His gaze hadn’t left you since you sat down, blue eyes softened with something too warm, too intense for casual friendship. You refused to meet his eyes, cheeks burning hotter than any of his fire tricks.

After dinner, Franklin was back to racing around with his cars. Only now, he wanted you and Johnny to play too. Which is how you ended up cross-legged on the living room floor again, mid-race chaos, with Franklin assigning you very serious car duties, like “crash dis one” and “make dis one fly.” Johnny, of course, took it way too far.

He zoomed his car off the edge of the coffee table with a dramatic explosion noise, tossed Franklin gently in the air, which earned him a fierce scolding glare from you, and then proudly unveiled a mini Johnny Storm action figure from one of the toy bins. You groaned, the moment it crackled to life with a mechanical, over-enthusiastic: 'FLAME ON!'

“Bet you didn’t think I’d let this masterpiece go out of production.” Johnny puffed his chest out like he’d won a Nobel Prize. “It talks? “Why on Earth does it talk?” You deadpanned. “Because it's genius,” He stated matter-of-factly, holding the tiny figure like it was sacred. “And because the world needs more me.” You opened your mouth to disagree, but Franklin grabbed the figure from his hand and hugged it to his chest like it was made of gold.

"Uncle Johnny, cool!" Johnny beamed, smiling from ear to ear. “See? The people agree.” You rolled your eyes so hard you nearly saw another dimension. You wanted to argue, saying Franklin was clearly biased, but the truth was, watching him, with Franklin curled up against you and laughter echoing around the room, you couldn’t remember the last time your heart had felt this full.

Seeing as Johnny had playtime thoroughly covered, complete with dramatic reenactments and the occasional sound barrier being broken, you took the opportunity to slip away and handle the aftermath of dinner. The dishes weren’t going to wash themselves, and frankly, you needed a few minutes to cool down. Watching Johnny be good with Franklin, be soft, had your heart doing things that felt mildly illegal.

You stepped into the kitchen just as H.E.R.B.I.E. glided up beside you, silently offering the now-empty plate Franklin had used for his macaroni masterpiece. With a fond smile and a quiet thank you, you reached for it, and that’s when all hell decided to break loose. “OW! Buddy, not the hair!” Johnny’s voice cut through the room, followed by a shrill, high-pitched wail that had every maternal instinct in your body firing at once.

You sprinted the short distance from the kitchen to the living room, nearly slipping on one of Franklin’s rogue race cars. The scene that met you was peak disaster, Johnny was crouched on the floor, a frazzled mess with a toy still in one hand and Franklin squirming in his arms, red-faced and wailing. Johnny’s blue eyes snapped up the moment he heard your footsteps. His expression was a mix of panic and guilt.

“Give him to me.” Your voice was calm, instinctive, even as your arms reached out without hesitation. The moment Franklin caught sight of you, he lunged like a rocket, practically leaping into your embrace. You caught him easily, cradling his small frame against your chest. His sobs were still jagged and hiccupy, but they began to slow as you rocked him gently from side to side, your fingers drawing soft, rhythmic circles against his back.

His little fists clung to your shirt like lifelines, breath hitching in that pitiful post-cry rhythm that tugged at every heartstring you had. You murmured soft nonsense into his hair, words that didn’t matter so much as the tone, reassuring, steady, warm. Gradually, the tension left his body, replaced by that heavy-limbed drowsiness that always followed a toddler meltdown.

Over Franklin’s head, your gaze drifted to the wall clock, it read 7:58 PM. Of course, his body knew. Right on cue, the crash before bedtime. “Can you finish cleaning up?” You murmured, glancing over to Johnny, who was still sitting there, looking like he’d just been emotionally sideswiped. “I’m going to try and get him settled for bed.” Johnny nodded, standing quickly, carefully. As he stepped closer, he placed a gentle kiss on Franklin’s tousled head.

Then, his hand came to rest on your shoulder, warm and grounding, fingers giving the faintest squeeze as he brushed past you and disappeared into the kitchen. The touch lingered even after he was gone. And for a second, just a second, you let yourself close your eyes and breathe in the moment, Franklin's weight against you, the quiet settling over the room, and the echo of Johnny's tenderness still trailing behind him.

As you disappeared down the hallway, cradling a drowsy Franklin against your chest, Johnny let out the breath he hadn't realized he’d been holding. It left him in a slow, uneven exhale, chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon, not because of exhaustion, but because watching you like that wrecked him in ways he couldn’t begin to explain. The sight of you, arms wrapped protectively around Franklin, murmuring in that soft voice that made even the toddler’s screams quiet down.

He dropped into a chair at the kitchen island, elbows on the counter, scrubbing a hand over his face as if it might shake off the feeling tightening in his ribcage. God, he was so screwed. It wasn’t just the way you looked tonight, though, yeah, that was enough to short-circuit him on a good day. The soft, lived-in familiarity of your smile, the way you rolled your eyes when he got too cocky, the gentle way you brushed Franklin’s hair back like you’d done it a thousand times before.

It wasn’t new. The feelings had been there for a while now, growing in quiet corners between inside jokes and late-night calls, rooted in the unshakable way you just got him. But this? Tonight? Watching you soothe his nephew like it was the most natural thing in the world, while he just stood there helpless, hair askew, ego bruised by a toddler? Yeah. That cracked something open.

Johnny leaned back, staring at the ceiling like maybe the answer to his emotional ineptitude was hidden in the plaster. He wasn’t good at this part, the messy, vulnerable, heart-in-his-throat stuff. Flirting, he could do blindfolded. Grand gestures? Easy. But feelings that mattered? Feelings that made his pulse stutter and his brain go fuzzy and his mouth forget how to be clever? That was harder.

But no matter how loud his heart got, there was one thing louder: the fear of ruining everything. You were his best friend. The constant in his chaos. You just got him, ego, flaws, fire and all. And the thought of letting these feelings consume him, of risking what you already had for something that might never work out? That terrified him more than anything.

Because what if he said something, did something, and it changed the way you looked at him? What if the easy laughter and casual touches turned awkward? What if he lost you? He looked toward the hallway where you'd disappeared, the quiet hum of your footsteps still echoing faintly in his ears. You’d taken Franklin like he was yours. Like you belonged here, in the middle of this family chaos, perfectly slotted into a space you hadn’t even asked to fill.

And somehow, everything felt quieter with you in it. He glanced toward the sink, eyes landing on the half-finished dishes, but his mind was still on you. Your hand on his shoulder. The way you didn’t flinch when things got messy. The way Franklin launched himself into your arms like it was instinct. Johnny rested his chin in his palm, staring at nothing in particular, lips curving just a little despite himself.

He was in love with you. Completely, stupidly, irrevocably in love with you. And the most ridiculous part? You probably had no idea. So he did what he always did. He swallowed it. Pushed it down, tucked it behind a grin and a joke and a wink. He’d take the way you looked at him now, fond and familiar, over losing you entirely. Even if it meant sitting here in the quiet, heart full of things he didn’t know how to say.

“Finally got him down.” You sighed, stepping back into the kitchen with your shoulders drooping slightly, weariness and warmth both lingering in your expression. You set the baby monitor on the kitchen island with a quiet clink, the soft static crackle filling the space just enough to remind you he was still only a room away. Johnny blinked, snapping out of whatever tangled thoughts he’d been drowning in.

“Sit.” His voice was gentle, coaxing, already rising from his chair. One hand brushed the small of your back, a fleeting touch, but enough to make your breath catch. He pulled out the chair next to his, guiding you into it with a casual attentiveness that never failed to send a zoo of butterflies stampeding through your stomach. You dropped into the seat with a sigh that was part exhaustion, part resignation. “But the dishes—”

“Herbert and I got it.” He interrupted smoothly, shooting a smirk toward H.E.R.B.I.E., who rolled up at just the right moment with mechanical precision. Johnny bumped fists with the robot, taking a bowl from his outstretched arm. You raised your hands in mock surrender, lips curling into a tired smile as you leaned back against the chair. Your eyes followed Johnny as he casually peeled off his bomber jacket and tossed it over the back of the chair.

Without it, he was all forearms and muscle, the short sleeves of his t-shirt hugging the defined curve of his biceps and the broad stretch of his chest like it had been designed with malicious intent. You glanced away quickly before your gaze betrayed you, but not fast enough to stop your face from flushing. You could feel the warmth blooming at your cheeks and cursed him, silently, lovingly, for existing so effortlessly.

The room fell into a quiet rhythm: H.E.R.B.I.E.'s faint whirring, the occasional clink of dishes, the lullaby-soft hush of a house winding down for the night. Then Johnny’s voice broke through, soft and unguarded. “You know…” He began, fingers still lingering on the edge of the countertop, but his eyes now fully on you. “You’re going to make an amazing mom one day.” The words landed with more weight than you expected. Not just because of what he said, but how he said it.

Not as a joke. Not as some offhand compliment. It came out quiet, earnest, a whisper of a truth he couldn’t stop himself from saying aloud. Your lips parted, but nothing came out at first. For a beat too long, you stared at him, trying to read what was hidden behind the usual mischief. There was no mask this time. No smirk. Just Johnny, bare and sincere in a way he rarely let himself be. You smiled, small and surprised, a flutter stirring in your chest. “You think?”

He shrugged, but the smile he wore was warm enough to melt through any doubt. “I know.” You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, heart full and aching in a way you hadn’t expected. That look in his eyes, bright, a little reverent, maybe even something closer to love, it made the air feel too thick, too still. You wondered if he felt it too. That quiet hum between you, the one that had been there for years but now felt impossible to ignore.

And then, without even trying, the words fell from his mouth as if he’d been fed a truth serum. “I think about it a lot, honestly. More specifically, you being the mother of my children." Your breath hitched. Time slowed. Even H.E.R.B.I.E., bless him, seemed to sense the gravity of what had just been released into the room and rolled discreetly out of the kitchen. Johnny stood frozen, one hand clenched around the dishcloth, knuckles white, eyes wide.

Like he hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but now that it was out, he couldn’t take it back. And frankly, he didn’t want to. A nervous laugh escaped him, breathless and uneven. “Shit, that sounds way more intense when it’s not just in my head.” You turned to face him fully, your heart beating so fast you were sure he could hear it echoing in the silence. “I mean it.” He added quickly, voice dropping, sincerity bleeding through every word.

“It’s not just some passing thought I get when I see you with Franklin, or when you laugh, or when you fall asleep during movie nights and drool on my shoulder.” You made a quiet noise of protest, heat blooming across your cheeks. He grinned softly at that, but it faltered just as quickly, replaced by something more hesitant. “I try to ignore it, y'know?” His fingers fidgeted with the hem of the dish towel, eyes focused on the counter like it might help him stay grounded.

“Because I didn’t want to mess this up. You and me... we’re good. We work. And I kept thinking, if I opened my mouth, I’d ruin it all. That I’d lose you.” His eyes finally met yours again, open, uncertain, completely unguarded. “But lately? It’s like... I can’t not feel it anymore. It’s everywhere. You're everywhere. Every time I look at you, I think about what it’d be like to wake up next to you. To build something real. I think about how natural it feels when you're here, like you're already part of the family.”

His hand hovered near yours on the counter, not quite touching, but close enough to feel the heat between your fingers. “I’m tired of pretending it’s not there. Tired of pretending I don’t—” The words caught on his tongue. “Tired of pretending that I don’t love you, Y/N.” And there it was. Simple. Raw. Undeniably real. The air between you felt electric, charged with everything that had been buried under years of stolen glances, long talks, missed chances, and the quiet kind of love that grows too strong to ignore.

"Oh, fuck it." Before you could react and before he could talk himself out of it, Johnny rounded the kitchen island with a kind of reckless purpose, his restraint unraveling in real time. And then, he was there. He surged forward, big hands finding your waist, as his lips crashed against yours. Your eyes flew open, shocked by the force of it, by the sheer heat, but your body answered before your brain could catch up, instinct overriding reason.

Your fingers twisted in the fabric of his t-shirt as you kissed him back, years of pent-up tension igniting like gasoline meeting flame. His hands gripped your waist tighter, dragging you flush against him as his mouth moved hungrily against yours. When his tongue pushed past your lips and brushed against yours, a soft moan slipped out of you before you could stop it, swallowed by his mouth like it was the very thing he’d been starving for.

You felt him groan low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips and sending another wave of heat straight down your spine. His hands roamed, one sliding up your back, the other briefly gripping your hip before pulling you impossibly closer, like he needed to feel every inch of you to believe this was really happening. Your hands had a mind of their own, smoothing up the planes of his chest, over his shoulders, fingertips trailing across the warm skin of his neck and into his hair.

He shuddered beneath your touch, deepening the kiss like he never wanted to come up for air. It was messy. Intense. Every press of his mouth against yours was filled with every stolen glance, every suppressed feeling, every unsaid word that had sat between you like a live wire for years. When he finally did pull back, breathless and wide-eyed, your lips were swollen, your chest heaving, and so was his.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” He breathed out, voice low and wrecked with emotion, his forehead pressing gently to yours. His thumbs stroked your hips, like he couldn’t stop touching you now that he’d started. You nodded, still catching your breath, eyes searching his face for anything, regret, hesitation, but there was none. “I thought I was dreaming,” You whispered. “I’ve been in love with you since I can remember.”

The words, settled over your skin like a warm blanket, uncomplicated, long-overdue, and unmistakably true. “Say it again.” He begged, voice hoarse, like he needed the sound of it more than air. Like your confession might be the only thing tethering him to reality. “I love you, Johnny.” That did it. He surged forward again, but this time there was no urgency, no crashing wave of desperation, just reverence.

His lips met yours with a gentleness that threatened to undo you entirely. No rush, only the kind of kiss that felt like a promise. One hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing lightly over your cheekbone as his mouth moved against yours, patient and aching, as though he was trying to memorize the shape of your lips and the rhythm of your sighs. Your hands curled around his wrists, anchoring yourself to him as he kissed you like it was sacred.

His breath hitched slightly when your fingers threaded back through his hair, but he didn't press further, didn’t deepen the kiss like before. This was about worship. Like he'd spent years imagining this, and now that he had it, he wanted to slow time down and savor every second. When he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his eyes remained closed, like he was afraid they’d snap open and find it had all vanished.

You couldn't stop the airy laugh that left you lips. "You've seriously thought about me as the mother of your children?" You raised a brow, hand absentmindedly tracing the veins of his forearm you ogled more than you'd like to admit. "Baby, seeing the way you act with Franklin always gets me all hot and bothered. Anything you do really." He stated matter-of-factly, smirk breaking out onto his face. You rolled your eyes, but the heat crawling up your neck betrayed you.

"Why do you ask, want to practice?" Johnny huskily murmured in your ear, his breath hot and intoxicating as it fanned across your skin. The low rasp of his voice sent a shiver down your spine, awakening something dormant and long-suppressed. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the sensitive curve of your neck before pressing a deliberately slow, kiss just beneath your jaw. The heat of it bloomed across your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake, and your breath hitched involuntarily.

Years of unspoken desire and stolen glances rushed to the surface, threatening to unravel your composure. As much as you wanted to surrender, to drown in the fantasy you had nursed for so long, a quiet voice inside pulled you back. You placed a gentle but firm hand on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. The tension between you crackled, heavy with want, but you pushed him back, just enough to create distance, not rejection.

"Not with the two-year-old were supposed to be watching less than ten feet away." Johnny pulled back with a dramatic groan, his expression pure betrayal. You watched as his eyes had darkened considerably, but they still sparkled as he opened his mouth to throw out another flirty one-liner your way, only to be cut off by a familiar, high-pitched wail echoing from the baby monitor that made both of you freeze.

“Traitor.” He muttered, narrowing his eyes at the tiny screen like it had done it on purpose. You placed one more chaste kiss to his heated cheek, patting his chest sympathetically, before you were already on your feet, chuckling as you padded toward the hallway. He followed with reluctant steps, grumbling under his breath but unable to stop glancing at you with that soft, besotted look he probably didn’t even realize he was wearing.

Later that night, when Susan and Reed returned to the Baxter Building, they were met with an unfamiliar but very welcome sound: silence. Brows furrowed, Susan kicked off her heels and made a beeline toward Franklin’s room, her mom instincts already stirring. Her heart skipped as she peeked into the dimly lit nursery, only to find the crib empty. “Reed?” Her voice was barely a whisper, nerves creeping up her spine.

“Hold on.” Reed called quietly from down the hall, standing in front of Johnny’s bedroom with the door slightly ajar, light from the hallway spilling just enough to illuminate what was inside. Susan joined him, brows raised in silent question. He merely tilted his head toward the crack in the door. Inside, Franklin lay curled on your chest, tiny hand fisted in your shirt, lips slightly parted in sleep. Your head rested against Johnny’s shoulder, your breathing steady and deep.

Johnny’s arms wrapped around both of you, one across your waist, the other lightly covering Franklin’s back in a protective cocoon. Susan exhaled slowly, something warm blooming in her chest. “Looks like you were right.” Susan’s smile was nothing short of smug as she crossed her arms. “I’m always right.” She quipped, fully planning to tease both of you relentlessly at breakfast. But for now, she simply stood there, soaking in the quiet proof of what she’d suspected all along.

Thanks for reading! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! Feeling generous? Leave a tip!

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gallavichsreddie1128 · 27 days ago

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In My Head (Johnny Storm)

Description: Y/N has Telepathic abilities and without realizing it, she’s putting fantasies she has into Johnny’s head.

Warning: Smut, fantasies in this font, oral (female receiving), fingering, lactation kink, car sex, use of powers in a sexual way

Word Count: 1,780

Request:

Hey, love that you're taking Quinn!Johnny requests 😆 so....

Johnny x reader smut where she's telekinetic and still learning to control it so snapshots of their relationship where when emotions run high she loses control like arguments, joy, fear and sex.

Thank you 😊

Author’s Note: Inspired by this request as I have changed a few things about it. I hope you like it!

“Johnny.” She cried out, clinging to him as he thrusted into her like he was on a mission.

Her nails dug into his back, marking him as he groaned in her ear from the pain, the pain which he loved. Sweat made them stick together and fill the air with a scent that made her head spin. His eyes were orange as he looked down at her, waiting for her to scream or cry his name as she cums all over his dick. This moment felt so heated and passionate, all like a dream…

“Y/N?” Sue called her name, seeing her in a zoned out state.

She knew that having new powers was difficult and trying to control them was even worse. They knew very little about her powers and what she was capable of. Johnny on the other hand stared at her with wide eyes as she managed to somehow get in his head with her fantasies. She didn’t mean to, it just happened. Johnny shifted in his seat and looked away from her.

“Are you okay?” Sue asked her and she looked at her.

“I think so. I don’t know what happened.” She lied.

She knew but she wasn’t aware that Johnny knew as well. The poor guy was red in the face and thankfully nobody else looked at him. “You didn’t use your powers?” She asked and Y/N shrugged.

She honestly had no idea what just happened.

The next time it happened Johnny was asleep and he was having a good dream.

Her hips moved against his as she rode him in the car, her cute sundress covered their lower halves but his hands were gripping her hips, wanting to drag her faster against him. His head was back against the seat and his eyes were closed. Her sweet moans and whimpers filled the air of the night and his ears.

It’s all he could hear. Her head was tilted back and her hands placed on his chest. She could feel his warmth through his t-shirt and inside of her. He let out a soft moan as she clenched around him once and she wanted to hear that noise again and again. The more she clenched around him, the more he moaned and soon enough he was close,

“I’m about to cum!” He warned her but that was enough for her to pick up her pace.

She wanted him too.

Right when he was about to cum he woke up and looked around his room for a second. That was a crazy dream, he thought though it was yet to end.

He cried out into the night as he filled her up with his cum. Her hips didn’t stop, not even slowing as she rode to her orgasm. Johnny was whining for overstimulation but that noise made her move faster and soon enough she was crying out his name as she came.

Johnny looked down at himself and muttered curses as he realized what just happened. It wasn’t just a dream, she was using her powers again. He had came in his PJ pants just from the visions. He didn’t move for a second, too embarrassed and lost as he never had that happened before. He got up to change his boxers and pants before going to talk to Y/N.

He knocked on her door and waited for her to answer. She opened the door seconds later and looked like she barely slept.

“Hey Johnny.” She said in a tired voice.

“Can we talk?” He asked and though her facial expression was confused, she nodded and opened the door anyway, letting him in her room.

He was red in the face at the thought of what she put in his head and he wasn’t even sure how to bring it up.

“You okay?” She asked, sitting on her bed.

He nodded and cleared his throat,

“Yeah uh it’s just that you’ve been putting sexy visions in my head.” He closed his eyes and wanted to hit himself for bring it up like that.

Her face turned red as well and her jaw dropped, she hadn’t realized that someone else could see what she was seeing.

“Oh my God Johnny, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize I was doing that.” She stood up from her bed and apologized.

“It’s okay, truly. You don’t have to apologize.” He tells her and she shakes her head, she was so mad at herself.

“No I do. You didn’t want to see any of that.” She said, actually she was wrong.

“It was hot.” Johnny said and she looked at him surprised.

“What your brain came up with, those scenarios are hot.” He says and she was more than surprised and a little turned on that he felt the same way.

Though she’d imagine it would be hard to make Johnny Storm uncomfortable.

“Wow, I wasn't expecting that.” She mumbles.

“I mean you have to feel the same way if you’ve been doing it.” He pointed out and he was right.

She definitely found him attractive, hot even and all her thoughts were on purpose.

“Yeah I just had no idea that I was projecting them onto you.” She said and looked away from him.

He smirked and walked up to her,

“No big deal. I just think you should make them a reality.” He mumbled before kissing her.

Her eyes widened for a second before she relaxed and kissed him back. Her hands rested around his neck and he hugged her to him.

She was spread out on her bed, covers in a mess on the floor and the sheet half off her mattress. There between her legs was Johnny, eating away like she was his favorite meal. Her hands in his hair and her moans filled the room.

“Johnny.” She cried, thighs squeezing around his head some.

He groaned against her and the vibrations made her cry out.

The scene had switched to a little later,

Johnny pulled away from her cunt that he made cum 4 times. His mouth dripping with her cum, his eyes glowing orange as he stared up at the tired girl with hunger in his eyes. He wasn’t done.

Johnny pulled away from the kiss,

“Oh my.” She looked at him, fake innocence in her eyes.

“We need to recreate that.” He said and pushed her onto the bed.

She looked up at him with a smile, agreeing with him through their minds.

“That’s so fucking cool.” He groaned and nearly collapsed on her, chasing her lips.

She let him kiss her in a hurry, sloppy mess, trying not to laugh. He was so hungry for her and it was funny how sloppy he was with every move. His kisses went down to her neck, wetting it with his lips and spit.

“You’re like a dog in heat.” She joked and gasped when he bit her neck a little.

He didn’t respond and moved down to her chest area that was covered by her shirt.

“I need this off.” He groaned and she sat up and removed her shirt, being the early day she didn’t have on a bra yet but he wasn’t complaining.

She smiled and laid back so he could get a good view. He mouthed the word fuck and Immediately started attacking her breasts. She hummed and ran her fingers through his soft hair. He sucked on her nipple like he was drinking from it,

Milk dripped from her nipple as it ached, she was moaning and groaning in pain, needing a release. Unfortunately she was far away from her baby or the pump, all she had was Johnny and his sick fantasies. He looked concerned until he saw her leaking through her shirt. His eyes widened and all he wanted to do was rip the shirt from her body and drink her milk.

“Johnny.” She groaned and looked at him.

She knew she wouldn’t have to beg him. He already knew what she wanted and pulled over immediately. He stopped the car and unbuckled his seatbelt in a hurry, like he was late to an event. He pushed his seat back and patted his lap. She climbed over and straddled him, lifting her shirt, wasting no time.

His lips immediately wrapped around one of her aching nipples and began to suck, a loud moan rang through her lips as the relief set it and it felt really good. Johnny drank up all her milk until some was leaking from his chin. She threw her head back as he switched to the other nipple and did the same.

Johnny pulled away from her nipple with this hungry look in his eyes, like her fantasy had awoken something in him. He moved down to her PJ pants and pulled them down,

“No panties?” He asked her with a teasing tone.

Do something about it then, she spoke to him through their minds and he didn’t need to be told twice. The feeling of his mouth on her was surreal and better than in her head. His mouth moved like a mad man wanting something so bad and finally getting it. His hands gripped her thighs, keeping them apart even though he craved to feel them squeeze his head.

His tongue lapped up her wetness and swirled it all over, making her moan his name out loud.

“Johnny.” Over and over again as he lapped up her juices and brought her closer to the edge.

He used his fingers to penetrate her and to feel her walls clench around them. Her hands gripped her sheets, trying not to rip through them. Her body shook with need as she begged him for she didn’t know what but she needed more. His mouth and fingers weren’t enough, she needed his dick.

Her pulsing clit got him to pull away with a soft cry from her lips. His lips were covered in her juices as was his fingers that he pulled out of her. He was breathing hard as he wiped his mouth and got face to face with her,

“You taste amazing, better than in my head.” He told her and her eyes nearly rolled back.

“I need to know something.” She says, her voice desperate.

Her hands ran through his hair and her body bucked up against his clothed one. He was hard, so hard that he needed to be inside of her soon or he might explode in flames.

“Do your eyes light up orange when you cum?” She was shy about the question yet had no problem showing it in her fantasies.

He smirked and pulled down his PJ pants,

“Wanna find out?”

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sapphireplums · 22 days ago

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JOHNNY STORM FIC RECS

hello my lovelies!! with my heavy obsession with this gorgeous man right here, this is a list of recs that i have LOVED. they're mostly fluff, but some angst and spice too 👀

i have so much love for all of these writers. you all truly make my day with these amazing fics 🥹💕

rule breaker

When you and Johnny Storm started fooling around, he made sure to tell you that it was going to be nothing serious. Well, at least until he broke his own rule and fell in love with you. @fireinmoonshot

first introduction

they finally meet johnny's new girlfriend @wwinterwitch

night light

after another one of reed’s infamous power outages, your boyfriend johnny comes with the solution to all your problems. @plaidcowboy

childproof 18+

sue announces her pregnancy. johnny is elated for his big sister. but it makes you feel some type of way when you know he wants kids of his own. something you're not very sure you want. @munsonstorm

put me to work, dollface.

all the ways in which you utilise your boyfriend johnny whilst refuses to let go of you, including the moment you get ready to meet his family for the first time. @bodhiscurls

waited all night for you, i'll wait forever.

after an long coming arguement with your boyfriend at dinner, you leave, desperate for space. forty thousand missed calls and texts later, you come back in the morning when you've cooled off only to find johnny storm slumped against your front door where he's waited all night for and will wait forever too. @bodhiscurls

mine next, please.

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. @bodhiscurls

the family dinner

It's your first time meeting Johnny's family, and you've never been more nervous in your life. @spider-starry

warm cuddles

soft moment with your “celebrity” boyfriend @ssweeterthanfiction

whatever you say

Johnny Storm never thought he'd end up like Reed—until his pregnant wife told him he wasn’t going on that mission. Superpowers? Useless. Against her? He never stood a chance. @not-yuyu

little does he know

two superheroes, johnny and y/n are sneaking around behind the teams back, assuming their relationship rendezvous are underwraps. little do they know, the entire team already knew! @tomsparkyr

my heart races for you, doc.

reed richards brings in an old family friend to help make sense of their new powers. johnny storm can deny that he's been trying extra hard for you to look his way all he likes. brushing his hand against yours at dinner, bumping into you outside your opposite rooms- purely accidental. but when you've got him hooked to a monitor and his heart beats double the usual, he can't hide what he feels anymore. @bodhiscurls

temptations

You’re Ben’s little sister and needed a place to crash after graduation. He only asks of one thing in return. Don’t fall for Johnny @eddiesxangel

Johnny Storm relationship headcanons @wordbunch

freeze me, baby

you’re hired to babysit franklin, but johnny’s the real handful. he’s all fire, you’re all ice, and somehow that just makes things worse. or better. depends who you ask. @hangmanwrites

personal heater

when the heater blows out in the midst of a large snow storm, you seek shelter in your boyfriends arms @munsonify

Fluffy headcanons | Johnny Storm @averagewriter-inthedark

SFW alphabet | Johnny Storm @averagewriter-inthedark

fool (for you )

hiiiii could you do a johnny storm x reader pre established relationship where he gets hurt doing something dumb and you have to patch his wounds. the reader like scolds him during this and he’s trying to make it sound like he did nothing wrong but your tired of it. thank you so much have a great day/night! @violetrainbow412-blog

fire and ice

Earth-616 is no stranger to the multiverse. Since the defeat of Thanos in 2023, the Avengers have had their fair share of visitors from other worlds and know what to expect when they do. But when a man wearing the same face of their late comrade arrives, the Avengers are in for the shock of their lives when a group of heroes tailing the individual fall through the portal behind him. And for the flying, fire-wielding, and sometimes charming Johnny Storm, he meets his match in the form of a woman whos @averagewriter-inthedark

with the amount of fics i'm reading, im sure i will have a part two soon LOL. i hope these feed your johnny obsession hehehe

#johnny storm #johnny storm x reader #fantastic four #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #johnny storm fanfic #johnny storm fluff #johnny storm smut #johnny storm angst #the human torch #human torch x reader #fantastic 4 first steps

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violetrainbow412-blog · 16 days ago

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Sun and Storm

[Bob Reynolds x fem!reader x Johnny Storm]

warnings: smut MDNI, threesome (M/F/M), voyeurism, oral (f receiving), jealousy, emotional tension, aftercare, established relationship, friends with benefits, full consent.

It was at a party. One of those nights in the tower where everything seemed lighter, where jokes ran freely and glasses were refilled without question. She said it with a laugh, answering Yelena's question; as if it were something distant, an unimportant fantasy.

But he heard it. And he didn't forget it. Not out of jealousy. Not out of insecurity. It turned out to be something more awkward: curiosity, fear, and, above all, love.

For days he thought he'd misinterpreted it. That maybe it had just been a joke, a provocation. She didn't mention it again. She didn't even seem to remember it. But he did. He thought about it so much that he ended up wondering how bad an idea it was.

He didn't like imagining someone else touching her. Much less seeing her enjoy it. But the possibility of giving her something she wanted, of offering her an experience without judgment or consequences, seemed... powerful. And terrifying. One of those things that, if done right, can strengthen a relationship. The kind that, if done wrong, can tear it apart.

So he planned everything in silence.

An intimate dinner for her birthday. Just the two of them. Soft lights, their fingers intertwined, the kind of atmosphere where he felt comfortable looking at her without the world interrupting. He kissed her hand throughout dinner, listened to her talk, laugh. He pretended everything was normal. That there was nothing more.

Until dessert.

That's when Johnny appeared. Smiling, relaxed, too well-dressed to be a coincidence. She was surprised to see him, even tensed for a moment, as if afraid something had happened. As if it were a mistake.

Bob was the one who explained that he'd invited Johnny, and at first, she was confused. She didn't understand what the blond boy's role was during the evening, since this was supposed to be a private date, not a get-together with friends.

Then, rushed words came out of her boyfriend's lips, saying that—if she wanted it—Johnny would be part of her surprise gift.

It had been his idea.

She blinked, her initial confusion turning to surprise. And then there was silence. Bob watched her carefully, with that expression he used when he didn't know if he'd done the right thing. He hadn't pushed. Johnny made it clear that if she didn't want to, he could leave without a problem. Everything was under her control.

But it was she who sought his gaze. She who asked him, wordlessly, if he was really okay with this. And he, still trembling, held her hand tightly. He was afraid of not being enough, of not being able to bear it. But stronger than fear was love.

The idea of seeing her happy, desired, adored. Not by another man. But by him, through another, like a gift. Like an offering. It wasn't about sex, nor about Johnny. It was a matter of trust, of knowing that she was loved even in the midst of the unexpected.

She nodded, very slowly, and from then on... the night changed.

Everything was slow. Carefully orchestrated.

At home, the atmosphere was already set. The lights were dimmed, the room warm, the bed freshly made, with soft sheets spread out like an invitation. Nothing was improvised. Bob had thought everything through in more detail than he would ever admit out loud.

The tension was evident, but not uncomfortable. It was the kind of tension that arises when something intimate is about to happen and no one wants to make the first move without being completely sure. Bob was the first to approach her, as always.

He cupped her face in both hands and kissed her forehead, her cheek, her jawline. As if he needed to remind her that, no matter what, he loved her. That she was his, even if he shared her tonight.

Before they began, Bob gently reminded him of one rule. A boundary he wasn't going to budge from, even if everything else was possible:

Don't kiss her on the lips. That's just for me.

And Johnny nodded seriously, without joking, without sarcasm. He understood the weight of those words and didn't question them. He only added, in a calm and honest voice, that if at any time either of them felt uncomfortable, they just had to say so. Nothing was obligatory; it all depended on how they felt. That security was part of the gift.

The clothes didn't disappear suddenly. Layers fell away one by one, amid soft caresses, lingering gazes, and increasingly deep breaths. She was at the center of it all, between them both.

When she finally lay naked on the sheets, it was Bob who held her, who helped her lie down, who sat beside her to hold her hand while Johnny settled between her legs.

And then, without a word, Johnny began.

The first touch was like an electric shock. He touched her with his tongue with the confidence of someone who knows what he's doing, but with the delicacy of someone who understands the importance of doing it right. She tensed, her back arched, and a whimper escaped her lips, which she couldn't contain.

Bob held her instantly. His hand on her waist, his lips against her cheek, his voice close to her ear. Soft words. Sometimes not even words, just sighs, murmurs. The way he told her he was there. That he loved her. That he saw her.

Johnny didn't stop. He worshipped her with his mouth, with his hands. With every movement, she trembled. With every sound that escaped her throat, Bob kissed her more. Her neck, her shoulders, her collarbone. He caressed her tenderly, as if he couldn't bear how beautiful she was, seeing her like this: lost between pleasure, between two bodies, between two different forms of affection.

And yet, in the midst of it all, she was looking for her boyfriend.

She cupped his face, stroked his beard, returned his kisses with trembling lips. She wanted him to know she was with him, that she hadn't let go, not even now. That even though Johnny touched her, even though her body trembled for another mouth, her heart was anchored to Bob's.

Her hand then descended, slowly and carefully, seeking Bob's erect member. It wasn't an impatient or covetous touch, but a subtle caress, an act of tenderness amidst the hurricane of sensations.

Bob looked at her for a moment, that look filled with doubt and fear he always tried to hide. No, it's not necessary... he tried to say, trying to push away the feeling of vulnerability that was growing in his chest.

But she didn't let go. With a soft sigh and a smile, she replied wordlessly, as if the skin itself spoke: But I want to.

Bob swallowed deeply. It was an unexpected shock, a mixture of nerves and excitement he hadn't anticipated. The experience was far more intense, more complex, more real than he'd ever imagined.

That simple insistence, that small act of wanting to give him something back, of including him in everything, lit a spark that seemed to burn inside him.

Bob whispered things to her that made her moan differently. Not because of the physical contact, but because of the devotion with which he said it. I love you so much, baby. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I'm here. I'm with you.

She gasped, her eyes closed, as waves of pleasure coursed through her. Johnny didn't just use his mouth; his fingers moved carefully, exploring and stimulating, deepening the pleasure he offered her. Each touch was measured, respectful, attentive to her every reaction, seeking nothing for himself, only for her.

Bob, for his part, never stopped showing her how much he loved her. His trembling hand rested on her boobs, caressing them and occasionally squeezing them gently, as if to reassure her that he was there, present, holding her every moment. He didn't avoid contact; on the contrary, he clung to her with tenderness and desire.

Bob kissed her neck, with warm lips and fingers slowly running over her curves, while she clung to him, as if that contact was the only anchor to keep her from losing control.

He leaned closer, wrapped his arms around her, held her steady as her hips began to move rhythmically, carried along by the pleasure that surged through her and overwhelmed her.

And when her climax reached her, it was with a smothered cry against Bob's neck, her body shaking uncontrollably. Johnny didn't stop until she was still, her body relaxed and exhausted, until she stopped shuddering.

She opened her eyes with a mixture of tiredness and satisfaction, and with a gentle smile, she asked Johnny to sit up. His lips glistened with the juice he had extracted from her, and she took his chin, turning his face, placing a light kiss on his cheek. It was a playful gesture, a small token of gratitude and complicity that lightened the intensity of the evening. Without letting the situation become too serious, she softly invited him to snuggle up next to her, just as she had done with Bob.

Johnny approached, with a kind and somewhat amused smile, settling in beside her. But she, tenderly and firmly, turned her face toward Bob to give him a deep, warm kiss, the one she had reserved just for him. Between the kisses, she whispered, I love you.

Bob held her tightly, returning that love with the same intensity, feeling his chest fill with relief and emotion.

He hugged her silently. He kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her wet eyelids. His breathing was ragged too. Not from jealousy or anger; but from love. From the shock of having seen her like that.

And for the relief that, at the end of it all, she was still looking at him with those eyes.

#johnny storm #the human torch #johnny storm x reader #the human torch fanfic #joseph quinn #bob reynolds #sentry #void #bob reynolds x reader #sentry fanfic #lewis pullman #johnny storm smut #the human torch smut #bob reynolds smut #sentry smut

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wonderlandwalker · 6 days ago

Text

Interlude (Interrupted)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: johnny storm x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: mdni, smut with comic relief 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Johnny's work life is starting to interfere with his sex life, and that just won't do.

: ̗̀➛ 𝐧𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 / 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱

𝐚/𝐧: haven't been a swift writer recently, but here's another thing I made (also I was stoned when I edited this, so there's that)

“Fucking finally,” he mutters against your lips, kicking the door shut behind you both with enough force to rattle the frame. His body crowds you against the wall, heat rolling off him in waves, his thigh sliding between yours with deliberate, maddening pressure. The friction draws a whine from your throat, and his grin sharpens, wild and wicked.

“Yeah? You like that?” he teases, voice already rough, breath uneven. His hands skate down your hips, gripping hard enough to bruise—not that you’d complain. Not when you’ve spent the last two weeks aching for exactly this.

You don’t answer with words. Instead, you drop to your knees, and the way his breath stutters is its own reward. His fingers tighten in your hair, not pulling—yet—but holding on like he’s already fighting the urge to fuck into your mouth. His free hand braces against the wall, muscles taut under sweat-slick skin as you take him deep, his hips jerking forward on instinct.

“Shit— just like that—” His voice is ragged, head thudding back against the wall. “Keep goin’ and I swear I’ll—”

Then, the blare of his mission alert slices through the room like a particularly sadistic punchline.

“Priority one. Latverian drones spotted in Manhattan. Suit up.”

Johnny doesn’t just groan—he growls, a sound so genuinely feral you’d laugh if not for the way his grip on your hair gentles, his forehead dropping to yours in sheer, agonized frustration.

“No. No. Absolutely not,” he hisses, yanking you up to kiss you again, sloppy and desperate, his hips grinding against you in a way that makes your thighs tremble. “Ignore it. Five minutes. Four. I’ll be fast—”

You can feel the way his body wars with itself—the tension in his muscles, the way his fingers flex against your scalp. But then the alert blares again, more insistent this time, and he lets out a noise that’s half-snarl, half-whine.

“I hate Doom,” he grits out, pressing one last searing kiss to your mouth before wrenching himself away. His hands linger on you, though—trailing down your arms, squeezing your hips like he can’t bear to let go, and you’re left slumped against the wall, flushed and frustrated, watching as he yanks his suit on with aggravated precision.. “This isn’t over,” he promises, voice dark with intent. “The second I get back, you’re mine.”

You arch a brow, still breathless, still aching. “Better make it quick, hotshot.”

Then he’s gone in a blaze of fire—leaving you aching, unsatisfied, and absolutely counting down the minutes until he returns.

The second he’s got you beneath him again, Johnny’s hands map every inch of you like he’s trying to prove a point—like he’s spent every second since the last time relearning you, rehearsing the exact ways you fall apart for him. His mouth is relentless, tongue dragging slow, filthy circles that leave you gasping, your thighs trembling around his head as if they might never remember how to close again.

And the bastard savors it.

His grip on your hips is ironclad, fingers pressing into your skin, holding you down as you writhe. His own arousal strains against the confines of his pants, every stifled groan against your skin betraying just how much he’s aching too. But he won’t rush—not when he’s spent weeks starving, not when the taste of you is finally on his tongue again.

“Johnny—” Your voice cracks, fingers twisting in his hair as he hums against you, the vibrations shooting straight to your core, sparking white-hot behind your eyelids.

He grins, sharp and smug, flicking his tongue just to hear you moan louder. “Yeah?” he rasps, breath hot and uneven against your soaked skin. “Missed this, didn’t you? Missed me.” His teeth graze your thigh—not quite a bite, but a promise—before his mouth is on you again, licking into you like he’s chasing the last embers of a fire.

You tug at his hair, hips jerking, but he doesn’t let up. If anything, he doubles down, fingers digging in harder, his free hand sliding up to palm your breast, thumb circling your nipple just to feel you arch off the bed.

“Fuck— Johnny, please—”

"Yeah, that’s it," he murmurs, lips brushing your clit in a way that makes you scream out his name again, your nails scraping down his shoulders hard enough to leave marks. His grin is pure sin against your skin. "Gonna make you cum so hard you forget your own name—"

Bzzzt.

The comm unit on his nightstand crackles to life, Sue’s voice slicing through the haze of pleasure.

"Johnny, the charity gala started twenty minutes ago!"

He groans—deep, guttural—and the sound vibrates against your core, sending a jolt of white-hot need straight to your already throbbing cunt. You whine, hips jerking helplessly, torn between grinding down on his tongue and launching the damn comm unit into the nearest wall.

"Tell them I’m dead," Johnny shoots back, voice wrecked, before diving back in with renewed determination. His tongue flattens against you in one long, lewd stroke, and you choke on a sob, thighs shaking as he sucks your clit between his lips, just right—

But Sue is unrelenting. "Ben’s already covering for you, and he’s running out of excuses. Get. Down. Here."

Johnny pulls away with a filthy curse, resting his forehead against your thigh as his breath comes in ragged bursts. His fingers dig into your hips like he’s physically restraining himself from saying screw it and finishing what he started.

"Fuck," he mutters, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the inside of your thigh—one last promise—before dragging himself up. His pupils are blown wide, lips slick with you, and the sight alone makes your stomach clench, your core pulsing with need.

"This isn’t over," he growls, voice low and dangerous as he grabs his jacket, throwing a glare at the comm unit like it’s personally betrayed him.

You collapse back onto the bed, still trembling, still aching, and watch as he stalks toward the door—every inch of him radiating frustration and unspent want.

"Better not be," you call after him, breathless.

Johnny pauses, glances back at you over his shoulder, and the smirk he shoots you is pure, wicked temptation.

"Oh, sweetheart," he says, voice dripping with intent. "I was just getting started."

By the time he finally stumbles back into the room, the gala’s champagne-bright chatter still ringing in his ears, the space is bathed in the amber glow of the bedside lamp you’d left on for him. The light spills like honey across the sheets, gilding the curve of your shoulder, the loose strands of your hair fanned out over his pillow.

His side of the bed.

Not that he minds. Not when the sight of you—curled into the space he usually occupies, cheek smushed against the fabric like you’d tried (and failed) to wait up for him—steals the breath from his lungs. The faintest impression of your face lingers on the pillowcase, and something in his chest twists, too big and too fragile to name.

For a heartbeat, he hesitates. The part of him that’s spent all night itching to get back here, to pick up exactly where you left off, wars with the exhaustion dragging at his limbs. He could wake you. Should wake you, maybe—press his mouth to the sleep-soft slope of your shoulder, murmur half-drunk apologies into your skin, let his hands relearn every inch of you until you’re both gasping.

But then you sigh in your sleep, nuzzling deeper into the pillow, and the fight drains out of him all at once.

So he moves quietly, toeing off his shoes, shrugging out of his suit jacket with none of his usual dramatic flair. The mattress dips under his weight as he eases onto the bed, careful not to jostle you—

—he shouldn’t have bothered.

The second the sheets shift, you turn toward him instinctively, drawn to his warmth like a magnet. Your arm drapes over his waist, fingers curling into the rumpled fabric of his dress shirt with a quiet, possessive urgency, even in sleep. A sigh escapes you, warm against his collarbone, your body molding against his like it was made to fit there.

Johnny huffs a laugh, soft and wondering, and presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “Missed you too,” he murmurs, though you’re too far under to hear it.

It doesn’t take long for the rhythm of your breathing to lull him under, his own limbs going heavy.

After three more agonizing days of obligations—press conferences, team briefings, and a fundraiser where Johnny spent half the night staring at you from across the room like he wanted to devour you whole—you finally manage to slip away.

The Baxter Building’s rarely used guest bathroom is a sanctuary of marble and muted gold, all cool surfaces and pristine lighting—thank you, Sue, for insisting on “luxury accommodations”—but Johnny doesn’t give you any time to appreciate it.

The door locks behind you with a click, and then his mouth is on yours, hot and insistent, swallowing your gasp as he spins you toward the counter. His kiss is all teeth and tongue, the kind that leaves your lips throbbing and your head spinning.

His fingers dig into your hips, pressing hard enough to leave bruises, and the thought alone has you shuddering—yes, let me remember this tomorrow.

Then he’s gripping your ass, hiking your skirt up in one impatient tug, and the noise he makes when he sees you’re already desperate for him is downright feral.

“Christ, you’re killin’ me,” he growls against your neck, lips dragging over your pulse as his fingers tease the soaked lace clinging to you. A rough jerk—rip—fabric tearing (he’s never been patient), and then his palm slaps against your bare skin, the sharp crack of it echoing off the tiles before the sting blooms, making you cry out.

His free hand fists in your hair, tipping your head back as he nips at your jaw, his other hand working you open with filthy, slick strokes. “Love you so fucking much,” he murmurs, voice wrecked, before sinking into you in one slow, devastating thrust.

The stretch burns, perfect, and you choke on a moan, fingers scrambling against the marble counter for purchase. Johnny groans, forehead dropping to your shoulder as he stills, trembling with the effort not to lose it right then and there.

“Fuck, fuck—shoulda known you’d feel this good,” he grits out, hips rolling just to hear you whine. His hands tighten on you, possessive, like he’s trying to fuse you together.

And then he moves—no patience, no finesse, just raw, relentless need—each snap of his hips driving you harder against the counter, the mirror rattling. Every ragged breath, every bitten-off curse, every time his grip on you tightens like he’s afraid you’ll vanish—it all coils tighter and tighter until you’re both hurtling toward the edge, too far gone to care who hears.

“What do you want, baby?” he teases, lips brushing your ear as he drags his cock out agonizingly slow, just to watch you squirm. His breath is ragged, his voice all rough-edged amusement—like he’s savoring every second of your desperation. “Use your words.”

You’re right there—teetering on the edge, ready to beg, demand, scream if that’s what it takes to push you both over—when—

BWEEEEEEEEEEP.

The alarm doesn’t just sound—it attacks, a deafening, soul-crushing shriek that rattles the walls and the very foundation of your patience. The Baxter Building’s safety system cuts in with infuriating serenity:

“Alert: Unauthorized thermal activity detected in residential wing. Please evacuate immediately.”

Johnny goes statue-still behind you for one glorious, suspended second—silence.

Then—

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

His voice is a frayed wire, sparking with barely restrained fury. When he lifts his head, his eyes are molten, his entire body radiating enough heat that the air shimmers around him. He looks like he’s about to burn a hole straight through the floor.

With a snarl, he wrenches himself away, hands raking through his hair like he might actually light himself on fire out of sheer frustration. “It was one time!” he roars at the ceiling, as if the universe itself is conspiring against him. “One time I got a little carried away and maybe set the couch on fire—”

The alarm blares louder, as if in protest.

Down the hall, Ben’s thunderous laughter shakes the walls, followed by Reed’s long-suffering sigh. “Johnny, we talked about this.”

Johnny whirls toward the door, finger jabbing at it like he’s about to shoot a flare straight through the wood. “I hate this family.”

You can’t help it—you’re laughing, breathless and giddy, even as your body still thrums with unfinished need. Johnny turns back to you, and the look on his face—all wild-eyed desperation and hunger—sends a fresh pulse of heat between your legs.

“Oh, you think this is funny?” His voice drops, rough and dangerous, his hands caging you in before you can so much as squeak. “You’re laughing while I’m out here suffering?”

He leans in, his mouth hovering just above yours, his body burning against you. “You know what this means, right?” His grin is pure, unrepentant mischief. “Now I owe you. And I always pay my debts.”

The alarm wails again.

Johnny exhales, long-suffering, and presses his forehead to yours. “...After we evacuate.”

Right now is apparently his last straw.

You’re stretched out beneath him on the living room couch, his mouth searing a path down your neck, his hips grinding against yours in a rhythm that’s just shy of mean. Your nails scrape red lines down his back, and he hisses in gratitude, like he’s been starving for the sting.

You’ve both been too patient for too long, and now? Now, there’s no room left for restraint—just skin and heat and the desperate, aching need that’s been building for too long. His teeth catch your pulse point, and you arch into him with a whimper that goes straight to his dick, your thighs tightening around his hips in a silent plea for more, faster, now—

Then the door whooshes open.

"Johnny, have you seen the—oh."

Reed’s voice slides into the room like an unwelcome algorithm, smooth and utterly oblivious.

Johnny doesn’t even look up. His entire body locks tight—not with embarrassment, not with shame, but with sheer, unbridled rage.

"No," he snaps, voice lethally calm. "Nope. Absolutely not. Get the fuck out."

His hand flings toward the door in a wild, dismissive gesture, like he’s banishing Reed from the planet.

A beat of silence.

Then, Reed—because he’s Reed—clears his throat. "Right. Well, if you do find the quantum stabilizer—"

"REED." Johnny’s voice cracks like a whip. "I swear to God, if you finish that sentence, I’m setting all your lab notes on fire."

Another pause. The door starts to slide shut—then stops. Reed’s head pokes back in. "Actually, you do realize this is a common area, right? If you two wanted privacy—"

Johnny moves.

One second, he’s pinning you to the couch. The next, he’s halfway across the room, fingers sparking, eyes literally glowing with fury. "OUT. NOW."

Reed finally—finally—gets the hint. The door shuts.

Johnny exhales, long and slow, like he’s counting to ten in his head. Then he turns back to you, his expression shifting from murderous to hungry in half a second flat.

"Now," he growls, stalking toward you like a man on a mission, "where were we?"

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scarletmika · 10 days ago

Text

The Wonder of Him : ̗̀➛ Johnny Storm x Reader

READ PART 1: The Wonder of You : ̗̀➛ Johnny Storm x Reader

Pairing: Johnny Storm x Reader

Summary: Falling in love with Johnny Storm was easier than it should've been. Loving a superhero, though, is never easy. But he's worth it. He's always been worth it.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI, SMUT (making out, oral m. receiving, shower sex, unprotected p in v, creampie, hint of temperature play again), porn with a LOT of plot, sequel, slight hint of some angst, fluff, lovers who haven't put a label on it, Johnny is a massive flirt, hopelessly in love losers, SPOILERS! for The Fantastic Four: First Steps, female reader but no characteristics described, maybe some incorrect stuff regarding the 60s and how it worked but it's a fantasy world, VERY lightly edited so apologies for any mistakes (message me if you find some big ones)

Word Count: 18,781 words

Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here

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

One month.

One month without Johnny Storm and you were, slowly, going insane. Truthfully, you were going insane without the entirety of the Fantastic Four in your life while they were in space.

The Baxter Building lab was quiet. You had the entire, elongated room to yourself, from the workstations to the monitors. It felt like you had spent every waking moment since the Excelsior went up into space in that damn room. Every inch of Reed’s notes had been combed through, you’d made some minor adjustments to the bridge teleportation devices based on Reed’s notes, and had reached the point of rereading old notes and studies to try and fill the void.

Sue’s warm presence couldn’t be felt in every room of the building. She wasn’t sneaking into the kitchen to grab yet another craving during the day, even though she muttered to herself loud enough for you to hear that she was going to spoil her appetite. The scent of her perfume had slowly fallen from the air, it no longer clung to the cushions of the living room couch, could no longer be smelled simply from stepping past her bedroom door.

The kitchen felt lonely without Ben. There was no one to taste test your dishes, make recommendations of the perfect blend of spices to add to your sauces. Even picking up Maisie’s cookies felt sad, knowing you didn’t need to grab any of those delicious black and white ones for your friend to enjoy.

Even Herbie’s missing presence could be felt in every room. No little beeps down the hallway in the morning, his little arguments with Reed in the lab, or the little humming he would do when he’d help Ben in the kitchen.

The Baxter Building felt cold without Johnny Storm.

You felt cold without Johnny Storm.

Four years of working with Reed, of knowing this family, and it was after they’d been gone for three days that it finally hit you. Over the course of those four years, you had never been apart from any of them for more than a week. Every day of your life was spent in that building, working at Reed’s side, cooking with Ben, talking with Sue over the dinner table, or curled up beside Johnny on the couch for whatever movie Channel 2 was playing that night.

It took that long for you to realize that the line between your work and personal life, the one that you had been trying so hard not to muddle up, had blurred a long time ago.

At that realization, you hadn’t left the tower since. Your apartment was long forgotten. Instead, Johnny’s bed became yours.

His warmth didn’t flood the sheets anymore, not without him to lie in them. They were cold, the silk pillowcases cool to the touch every time you laid your head upon them. Fall was quickly winding down, though, winter on the horizon, and you craved the warmth your favorite flame boy gave off. One night to love him how you truly did wasn’t enough. His closet very quickly became your own, too.

Lynne hadn’t said anything the first time you met her in the boardroom for a meeting, but the glance she shot your way said it all. Heels, highwaisted black pants with a tucked in white blouse, but the oversized off-red jacket thrown over your shoulders was the dead give away. That, and what you knew was the faraway look in your eyes.

Reed had left you in charge to speak on his behalf, which prompted Lynne to drag you into any and all meetings for the Future Foundation. You attended, wore a smile, spoke when spoken to. Every other minute was spent staring out the windows, eyes on the skies, praying to see the Excelsior. All while the faint smell of Johnny’s jacket, whether it was his cologne or just simply him, reminded you that he wasn’t here with you.

One single night with Johnny Storm and you were a goner.

Today was no different than the last thirty days. An 8 a.m. meeting with Lynne and the Future Foundation, followed by hours holed up in the lab, trying not to let your brain wander.

The bridge teleportation device sat in front of you, the soldering fixed to strengthen the energy arms, while the other sat across the room at Reed’s workstation. The dress you had worn for the meeting was discarded, replaced instead with a pair of sleep pants you kept in the guest room and Johnny’s faded Elvis t-shirt he’d had as long as you had known him.

Johnny. What if he was dead? What if they all were-

A quick bang of your hand against the workstation was enough to break you from your thoughts, those terrible thoughts that you tried not to have. It was impossible to outrun them, though. A month of no contact from the Excelsior, no updates, no word from the four up there in space. Complete radio silence, and it only had your nerves growing by the minute.

There was a beeping across the room, the same beeping that had been occurring for the last 45 minutes. With one swift press of your keyboard, you silenced it, keeping your attention entirely on the device in front of you. It was just the alert for a message, most likely from Lynne trying to bring you into yet another meeting. You didn’t have the energy for that, not now.

Not when your mind was constantly repeating those final moments one month ago.

Johnny’s hands were warm, they were always warm. But with you, they were warm in a different way, a softer way. He cradled your cheeks in his hands, thumbs running a smooth line back and forth over your flushed skin. All you could do was press a small kiss to the part of his palm exposed, while your eyes stayed trained out the glass panels beside you leading up the walkway to the Excelsior. Reed, Sue and Ben stood with Lynne, the cheers of the city all lining the sidewalks booming through the walls.

“Can you look at me?”

You did, but it felt like a gut punch to do so. There he was, the man you loved, standing before you in that blue and white spacesuit. “J. Storm” embroidered over his right chest.

“It’s not fair,” you said after a moment, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat. “I tell you I love you and now you’re just jet setting off to space.”

Johnny’s lips quirked up slightly at that, his fingers pinching at your cheek.

“I’ve got a reputation, baby, I can’t be falling in love. Have to run away before you suck me into your orbit,”

The swift punch you laid to his abdomen did nothing but force a laugh from his throat, the layers of the suit stopping the force of your outburst. His hands caught yours, still balled in a fist, as he laid a gentle kiss to each knuckle cradled in his hands. You did your best not to melt at the sight alone.

“I think we remember last night very differently, Johnny. You were the one who said I love you first,”

His lips hummed against your knuckles, and you could feel the smirk growing on his lips as those blue eyes darted back to you.

“Oh, believe me, I remember last night perfectly. Especially the moment I had my head buried between your le-”

He caught your other fist easily, laughter ringing through the air. Using the leverage of both of your hands in his, Johnny tugged you into his chest with ease, curling his arms around your back with a squeeze.

“Don’t go flirting with the herald while you’re in space,” you tried desperately to lighten the mood, chin resting on his chest to look up at him. Even as you tried to lighten the mood, you knew the tears forming behind your eyes were inevitable. “Don’t forget about me up there.”

One of his arms left its place around your waist in an instant, holding it up straight for you to see. The edge of his suit sleeve fell down just slightly, letting the overhead lights glint off that familiar silver bracelet around his wrist.

“You remember this? You got it for me for my birthday two years ago, and I haven’t taken it off since,” his arm fell back down, hand curling around the back of your head to press a kiss directly to your hairline. “You’re always with me, I couldn't forget you even if I tried.”

Fuck Johnny Storm and those stupid lines once again. Burying your head into his chest, wishing the suit wasn’t there so you could feel his heat, the smile that crawled onto your lips was inevitable as you hugged him tightly.

“Just come back to me,” your words were muttered out against his chest, silently willing your tears to stay at bay until he was gone. “If you die up there, I’m just going to regret ignoring this for four years even more.”

His body shook with laughter. Johnny’s glove-covered hand left the back of your neck and curled around your neck, just slightly tugging on your hair to pull your head back. He didn’t say a word, barely gave you a chance to think, before he tugged you up into a kiss–gentle, soft, but pressed to your lips with every ounce of love in his body. A love so overwhelming you were sure your knees would give out right then and there.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily, baby,” his words were whispered against your lips like a promise. “You’re stuck with me now.”

But what if you’d already lost him? A month with no contact…there was no telling what could have occurred up there.

“Alright, bridge teleportation test six,” you muttered to yourself with a shake of your head, running a hand down your face and trying to rub the sleep from your under eyes and fight away the intrusive thoughts plaguing your mind. The switch was placed in front of you, a new egg balanced on the stand in the middle, and one of Reed’s many notebooks open beside you. Safety glasses on, you took a deep breath. “Let’s hope this data calibration doesn’t fry the entire eastern seaboard.”

A simple flip of the switch in your hand, and the pulsing white energy of the device was lit up. Three beams of energy, encasing the pearly white egg in a misty sphere of white energy, before it was gone in the blink of an eye. The energy dissipated as you threw your protective glasses down onto the table, whipping around just as the egg reappeared across the lab.

The power flickered off, but you didn’t flinch. Instead, you counted quietly to yourself: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven-

The power to the building flickered back on the second you got to seven. It was enough to bring a miniscule smile to your face, turning to jot that down in your notebook.

“Alright, power back on automatically at seven seconds, up from 15 seconds, which is up from manual breaker override,” your words were mumbled to yourself once again as you noted the new development in your notebook. “I’m pulling power from, at least, seven different boroughs, but at least it’s automatic-”

“Is talking to yourself a new development, or do I not come visit you enough to notice?”

That voice was enough to stop you dead in your tracks. Your body froze at the sound, the sound you knew well. For four years, you’d heard it every single day: moaning about something Reed had done, flirting up a storm with you around every corner, ranting on and on about space. You had heard it moan your name, whisper “I love you” into your skin in the dead of night like a sacred promise.

When you turned, there he was. Still in that blue and white spacesuit he donned the day he left, as if he’d just left yesterday. But that look, the one reserved only for you, was still soft on Johnny Storm’s face, even as his lips ticked up into that impeccable smile you knew so well.

It took a moment of silence, just staring, for your voice to finally find you again.

“Is this real, or am I sleep deprived?”

Johnny laughed, a sound that skipped your heart almost immediately. But that smile softened as your voice broke on every word, sobs already threatening to escape your throat.

“I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m real, but how sleep deprived are you? Lynne said you’ve been sleeping in my bed, and as far as I know that’s a damn comfortable bed-”

“You’re actually here?” your voice cut through his words again, eyes wide as you took that most cautious of steps forward. “You’re…you’re alive?”

If it was even possible, Johnny’s smile softened even more at your words. His arms stretched out, an open invitation.

“I’m here, baby. I thought I told you already, you’re stuck with me,”

That was all you needed to hear before practically flying across the room, launching yourself into Johnny’s arms. He caught you, with ease. He’d always catch you, and you knew that.

The warmth. It was the first thing you felt. His warmth enveloped you in its own separate hug, seeping into your skin and bones. A choked sob fell from your lips before you could stop it, arms curled around his broad shoulders and one hand desperately clinging into the short strands of Johnny’s blonde hair. The wet trail of tears that soaked your cheeks was inevitable, soaking the skin of Johnny’s neck as you buried your head into the crook of it, sobbing through each inhale of that familiar smell of just him.

A month of no little touches. No hugs, no hands brushing your lower back, no thumb dancing over the apple of your cheek. Johnny’s arms felt like home, and god, you never wanted to leave them.

Johnny’s voice was soft as he wrapped your body just as tightly into his own arms. One of those gloveless hands found its home right at the small of your back, while the other cradled the back of your head like something precious. Little whispers of “shhh” accented every phrase muttered directly into your hairline, with every little kiss peppered to your skin: I’m here. We’re okay. I love you.

When the tears subsided, when the worst of the sobs left you, you finally managed to pull back from the now soaked crook of Johnny’s neck. Hands resting on his chest, one over his heart and one over that embroidered “J. Storm”, you finally got a good look at those blue eyes prettier than the sea itself.

Then, you shoved him.

“Whoa–okay, what the hell?” clearly caught off guard, Johnny stumbled back just slightly, eyes wide as he looked at you.

“A month!” you practically shrieked, hands quickly shoving at his chest again. Johnny was slightly more prepared for it this time, but still stumbled back slightly. “A fucking month!”

“Whoa-! Okay, okay, I know, I know!”

“No contact for a fucking month, Jonathan!”

“To be fair, we were literally lightyears away-”

“You could’ve been dead!”

“As you can see, I’m very much not dead,” his hands were ready this time, catching yours as you moved to shove him again. He clutched them in his, holding them tightly against his chest as he shot you an unimpressed look. “If you could stop shoving me for two seconds, that would be really helpful.”

“I won’t stop, because I’m fucking pissed at you-”

It was Johnny’s turn to cut you off with a single tug on your hands. Stumbling into his chest, you didn’t get another word out before he surged forward, connecting his lips with yours.

Your brain didn’t want to give in, but it very quickly lost that battle to both your heart and your body. The air knocked straight from your lungs didn’t matter the second you both collided, the feeling of Johnny’s lips on yours better than oxygen itself. You tore your hands from his, curling them up around his neck in a desperate attempt to hold him as close as possible. Your body curved, molding itself into every part of him.

Johnny was no better. The desperation, the longing in each of his movements was prevalent. His hands grasped at every part of you they could: your arms, your waist, your hips, your thighs. No piece of you seemed good enough for him, no way to hold you close enough, as those heated and slightly chapped lips moved against yours as if devouring you whole. A meal he couldn’t get enough of.

With every semblance of willpower left in your body, your fingers tugged on his hair slightly, separating you for even just a moment. Panting heavily, in sync with one another, you didn’t want to know what you looked like to anyone else. Flushed skin, t-shirt falling off of one shoulder, eyes blown so wide the color almost couldn’t be seen. Johnny was no better.

“Y-You can’t just keep kissing me every time I’m pissed at you, Johnny,”

“It’s such an effective way at shutting you up, though,” he quipped, the stupidly handsome smirk back for just a moment as he dove back in for another kiss before you could retort. When he pulled away, the smirk was gone though, replaced with a face full of guilt as his lips pressed a featherlight mark to the tip of your nose, your forehead, and then to your cheek. “I’m sorry. We made the jump, shit went south, and we lost the FTL engine in the process. Ben had to slingshot us around a neutron star–a literal neutron star–just so we could jump again. We didn’t have comms until just a bit ago.”

“Someone could’ve at least told me you were back,” you weakly tried to argue back, but all the fight had left you now that your brain had finally caught up with the present and accepted that Johnny was here. He was alive, he was okay, and he was with you.

His little smirk was back in seconds at your words, his glance turning to look back toward your workstation.

“Honey, I was standing right outside of that elevator watching you ignore Lynne’s hundredth call of the last hour. She’s been trying to tell you since we made contact with the Foundation that we were landing soon,”

You froze, cursing yourself in your head for ignoring that incessant alert, giving the man before you a sheepish smile in return.

“Well…oops?”

He laughed again, the sound like music to your ears. Johnny took one of your hands in his, bringing it to his lips as he ghosted small kisses over every knuckle of your hand. You just wanted to melt at the sight, a new round of tears threatening to fall as his gaze stayed locked with yours.

“I’m here, you’re okay,”

“I was so scared,” your admittance came out in a hush, sucking in a deep breath to try and stave off the tears again. “I was so scared you guys weren’t coming back.”

“No way I wasn’t coming back to you, not when I’ve finally got you,” his words came easily, like it was the easiest thing in the world for him to say. With a single flick, he uncurled your fingers from your palm, placing a kiss there instead as his next words were mumbled straight into your skin, into your very being. “I wouldn’t leave you. I promise.”

The way he said it, the conviction in his tone, you knew he meant it. A promise he couldn’t keep, one he wouldn’t know he could break until it happened, but a promise he’d fight tooth and nail to keep. For you.

“I’m amending my no flirting in the lab policy. I’m adding in no public displays of affection,”

If your heart had broken to see Johnny in front of you again, it shattered once more when you turned to see Reed and Ben standing outside the elevator doors. Both still clad in their own blue and white space suits as well.

“Come on, we’ve been waiting for these two to figure it out for ages,” Ben tried to reason with his best friend, the semblance of a smile pulling at his rocky lips for just a moment. “He only talked about her every day for a month straight. Give them some leeway, Stretch.”

“Maybe,” Reed commented after a moment after humming in thought. “It is quite nice to see Johnny so soft with someone-”

You hadn’t let your mentor get another word out, crossing the room in seconds to tug him into a tight hug just like you had with Johnny.

The laughter of the boys in the room could be heard as Reed definitely froze in your arms, giving you a light hug back with a short pat against your shoulder blades. Deciding not to torture the man too much, you pulled away after a moment, before quickly slotting yourself into the hold of Ben’s rocky form.

“God, you guys can’t do that to me again,” you muttered just loud enough for them all to hear, rubbing frantically at your face to try and keep another round of tears at bay. “I thought I was going insane.”

Ben shook his head, throwing a pointed look over your shoulder in Johnny’s direction. “You thought you were going insane? That one wouldn’t shut up about you for a month. Love you, kid, but my God I was ready to toss him into space.”

“Uh, given the way she just beat me up for almost not coming home, she probably would’ve found a way to turn you from rock into dust if you did that, buddy,”

The noise of the two’s playful argument was nothing to you as you locked eyes with the one last person you’d yet to see. Blonde hair pulled back, clad in the jumpsuit you knew she always wore under her flight suit, cradling something to her chest as she stood quietly behind the boys.

“Sue,” her name fell from your lips in a breathless huff as you ducked under Ben’s arm, walking quickly toward the woman. Sue smiled in your direction, turning just slightly to the side as she unwrapped the emergency thermal blanket bundled up against her chest.

“Before you get ahead of yourself, there’s someone you should meet,”

And God, was he beautiful. The most perfect little baby cradled right up against Sue’s chest. Wide little eyes like a doe’s, as blue as the ones you had fallen in love with years ago, taking in every little detail of the room. Little tufts of hair matted down to his forehead, body still cradled in the confines of the thermal blanket tucked around him.

Just before Sue, you came to a stop, resting a single hand on her arm. Eyes full of wonder, you couldn’t take your eyes off the little baby now looking up at you.

“Sue…oh my god, you gave birth in space,”

There was a short echo of laughter through the room. Sue joined in, before quickly maneuvering the little baby into her hands, passing him off into your own without warning.

“This is Franklin. Franklin, this is your aunt,”

Holding little Franklin Richards in your arms was surreal. Cuddled into your chest, as if seeking out your warmth, those little blue eyes looked up at you like you were the greatest thing he’d ever seen. It was impossible not to let a little laugh slip past your lips, a tear leaving its trail down your cheek.

With just a single finger, you brushed the little hairs on his forehead back, trailing it down the side of his face. His little hand came up, tiny fingers wrapping just barely around your finger, holding it in his grasp as he babbled in your arms.

A hand wound its way around your hip, your body tugged back into the warmth of the one you’d come to recognize so easily. Your tear gaze met Johnny’s. The softest smile you’d ever seen was on his face, an emotion swirling in his eyes, as he looked down on your and his nephew, that you’d only come to put a label on a month ago: love.

He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, fingers flexing against your hip, before he placed another kiss to the same spot: firmer, longer.

That was the moment you looked up to the rest of the team, your family, as they stood in front of you now. Behind the tiredness in their eyes, the bags under Reed and Sue’s eyes, you could finally see it written across their features. The notes of terror in Sue’s eyes as she looked down at her son in your arms. The way that Ben looked as if he’d aged a thousand years, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders suddenly. The guilt that racked each of Reed’s features, followed by a quiet determination you’d come to know so well.

That’s when the pieces of the puzzle finally snapped together in your head.

“Oh god…you couldn’t stop him, could you?”

❤︎

If you had thought that Reed was obsessive over scanning Sue repeatedly while she was pregnant, you had yet to see this side of Reed Richards.

The side that came out when a being predating the universe itself, who hailed himself as the Devourer of Worlds, was threatening to destroy the Earth in what could only be mapped out as a matter of weeks, or even days. Top that off with that same being wanting little baby Franklin Richards for himself, to use him as some kind of successor to his power…yeah, maybe you could slightly understand Reed’s obsessive nature in this sense.

Reed hadn’t let you leave the lab in a matter of three days since they had returned from space. Not that you tried to, wanting just as badly to find a solution that didn’t involve having to give up a child to some kind of space god. Every night you’d passed out on the couches in front of the chalkboards, long after you had forced Reed to retire for the night and go see his wife and son, promising yourself that you’d scan every note, every equation of his, in hopes of seeing something the smartest man in the world couldn’t see.

Every morning, you’d awoken on the lab couch instead of the floor, draped in the blanket that you knew usually sat folded at the end of Johnny’s bed. Even his scent clung to the fireproof fabric, invading your senses, your body begging you to simply go upstairs to him.

You had just gotten him back and now you’d been without him again for three days. It was worth it, though. You had to help Reed find an answer, something that would protect this little family you had found. Your DNA was as normal as it could be, untouched by cosmic rays. You couldn’t help protect them in the way they could protect you, protect the world, but you could do this: help them find a solution. Comb every ounce of data available to you, find something, anything, that could point them in the direction of a solution.

“And you see that building over there? That’s the Empire State Building. Almost 1,500 feet to the very tippy top, and I once watched your uncle fly circles around the top of it,”

Little Franklin Richards babbled some kind of nonsense in your arms, tapping his tiny hand against the glass overlooking the skyline of New York from the living room.

Sue had practically dragged you out of the lab somewhere around 8 at night, telling you to get proper rest somewhere that wasn’t the floor or couch of the lab. You chose to ignore her side remark about how she assumed that wasn’t going to be in the guest room. Reed had gotten a scolding next, a promise from his wife that if he wasn’t upstairs by 9:30 she was coming back for him, too. And the beautiful, innocent sight that was little Franklin in your arms was enough for your break from the lab to be worth it.

“Central Park is that way,” you guided the little baby’s gaze to the right of the darkened skyline, smiling as he followed your gaze. Sue was in the kitchen just feet away, preparing something for Reed to eat when she inevitably dragged him out of the lab. “Way over there, streets and streets away. One time, I watched your uncles throw hot dogs at each other on Bethesda Terrace for ten minutes. They just kept buying them to throw them at each other, your mommy was really over it.”

The cutest of noises left the little baby. That grabby hand came back to you, clutching to the edges of your blouse as those blue eyes looked up at you, wide and beautiful. The sight alone stretched your smile even wider, reaching up a single finger to swipe against the edge of his nose.

“Don’t worry, your uncles are trouble makers when they’re together. You’ll get to see all their shenanigans for the rest of your life,”

If we live that long.

“Seeing you holding a baby is invoking some feelings I didn’t know I had. Is this, like, a secret kink or something?”

The thought that infiltrated your head was gone in seconds, replaced with a playful eyeroll as Johnny stepped up to your side. He leaned over your side, pinching at his nephew’s cheek, before meeting your waiting gaze.

“Really? Can you not be inappropriate around your nephew for, maybe, three seconds?”

The second the words left your lips, you regretted them. Johnny dramatically began to count to three as she shoved your hip as hard as you could into his. It only drew a laugh from him, his hands coming to curl around your hip with a squeeze.

“He can’t understand it, there’s no harm! See, watch: Franklin, do you care that I’m trying to explain to your aunt how incredibly sexy I find her at all times?” even your eyeroll was accented with a grin you desperately tried to bite back. Franklin simply blinked up at Johnny, who threw his hand out to the side in a shrug. “See? No harm, no foul. He’s none the wiser.”

“Doesn’t mean you should talk like that in front of him,”

“Sweetheart,” god, you hated how easily he could make your heart skip a beat. “He’s, like, a month old. He’s not going to remember this conversation in the slightest, until I inevitably repeat it for the rest of my life.”

That drew a laugh out of you. His hand never strayed from its place against your hip as you turned in his hold, now facing him head on so you could fully see that shit-eating smirk on his lips.

“You’re lucky I love you, Johnny Storm,” that simple statement was enough to turn that smirk into a softened smile, reserved just for you. It didn’t stop the pointed look you shot him, though, as you adjusted your hold on baby Franklin. “But get those thoughts out of your head. We said I love you, that doesn’t mean I’m having a baby with you.”

“Right, right, makes sense. I’m thinking we revisit that conversation in about a year,”

“Johnny-”

“You’re so right. God, you’re just a genius, baby,” he cut in again, snapping his fingers as that smile shifted back to that playful smirk. “It's too soon, I have to put a ring on it and keep you all to myself for a bit first. I’ll have to ask Sue where mom’s ring is, though, she always said mom wanted me to give it to someone someday. We’ll put the baby conversation on track for the year and a half to two year range.”

As absurd as a conversation it was, it was enough to draw short laughter from you once again.

He was so good at doing that, so good as simply shifting your train of thought, of making you laugh and smile until your cheeks hurt. He’d always been good at it, and you were ready to forever curse yourself for being so scared that you deprived the both of you of this for four years.

“I…really do love you. So much, it’s kind of concerning,”

“And I’ve missed the hell out of you these past few nights,” Johnny turned to Franklin quickly, whispering a quick ‘sorry’ for his swearing as he dropped a kiss to his little forehead, before one of his hands cupped your cheek. You leaned into the feeling as if it was second nature already. “I finally come home and my girl locks herself away in the lab with my brother-in-law? Sleeps there, too, to the point where I have to carry her to the couch every night. You’re killing me, baby, my entire room smells like you but you aren’t in it!”

“Well, someone has to try and keep Reed in line while he’s trying to decipher the composition of Galactus and find a way to stop him from devouring the world…”

You hated talking about it. Knowing he was out there somewhere in the universe, slowly moving his ship toward Earth on his conquest to destroy the world you knew. To take the innocent child in your arms away.

“Hey, we’re all helping,” Johnny cut in, fingers squeezing at your jawline just slightly as you brought your attention back to him. “I’m trying to find him some kind of a crank-shaft thing to solve the problem.”

“A lever, Johnny,” laughter bubbled out of your as you shook your head at him. “The law of levers. We talked about this.”

“Yeah, law of levers. From that Achilles guy-”

“It’s Archimedes-”

“It started with an A, I was close enough. Point is, we’ll find a way to solve the problem, just like we always do,” your chin was pinched between Johnny’s thumb and forefinger as he dipped his head closer to yours, breath fanning out over your lips. “Doesn’t mean you can hide from me for days, baby. You’re like a drug, and I’m having some serious withdrawals.”

When he stole a kiss from you then, silencing the laughter that once again tumbled from your lips, you didn’t hesitate to melt into him. The warmth of his hand as it cradled your jawline, thumb rubbing the most gentle circles against your cheek. The soft touch of his lips as they slanted over yours, pressing into you with every ounce of love he could convey in a single touch.

It was enough to hate yourself for locking yourself away for three days, trying to solve a problem larger than life itself. Because if the world was going to end, you wanted to know every spare moment you had was spent in his arms, with his kiss searing itself into your skin.

The kiss was over much sooner than you ever would’ve liked it to be, Johnny’s lips practically torn from yours. Your eyes popped open just in time to see Johnny now just two feet away, pressed against the windows of the living room, that familiar rainbow shimmer hovering in the air in front of him to hold him in place.

When little baby Franklin clapped his hands, you had to cover your mouth with the one hand not holding him to conceal your laughter.

“Absolutely not,” Sue’s voice cut in, now just a few feet away from you both. Her hand was stretched toward her brother, still holding him in place against the window, with her eyes narrowed. “No funny business in front of my son, Johnny.”

“Sue, he was literally made with funny business,” the unimpressed look that you and Sue both shot at him was practically identical. “What is life without funny business? Speaking of–Reed can stretch…everything, can’t he? When you guys were making Franklin, did he-”

“Jonathan, I advise you don’t finish your sentence,”

You laughed at the antics of the Storm siblings, joining Sue at her side to hand her back her wiggling son. It was then that she finally dropped her hand, letting Johnny off of the window to take Franklin into her arms again. The way his little smile seemed to brighten just from being in his mother’s arms was unmistakable.

“Thanks for finally figuring out whatever is going on between you two,” Sue nodded her head toward Johnny with a soft smile to you. “I’ve been rooting for it. Plus, maybe you’ll be able to actually keep him in line.”

“Come on, now, she always has!” Johnny called after his sister, who was stalking back across the room to grab the food she’d made for Reed, no doubt to take it down to him in the lab. The warmth of Johnny’s hand rested against your lower back as he found his way to your side once more.

Left alone in the living room with just the man behind you now, you didn’t hesitate to lean back into his touch. You could feel the rumble in his chest from his laughter, a gentle kiss placed to the side of your head,before suddenly you were swept straight off your feet.

A yelp escaped your throat as Johnny threw you over his shoulder like it was nothing. Arms locked around your thighs to hold you in place, Johnny didn’t say a word and simply stalked across the room toward the stairs

“Johnny!” you exclaimed, bracing yourself against his back and shoulders so that you didn’t slip out of his hold. “I should get back to Reed, you can’t just kidnap me!”

“Uh, I can, and I did,” was his simple response as he began the trek up the staircase toward the bedrooms. “He’s gotten enough of your time, it’s my turn with the pretty assistant.”

You couldn’t argue with him. Truthfully, you didn’t want to argue with him. You missed him, and if this was the end of the world, right here in his arms was exactly where you wanted to be. It’s where you needed to be.

It was impossible to decipher the look on Ben’s face when you both passed him in the hallway, fresh out of the bathroom. Johnny gave him a simple greeting, walking past him as if there was nothing unusual about the sight before him. When you were face to face with him, you could only offer the rocky man a sheepish smile.

Ben only shook his head, mumbling something about “keeping the noise down”, before he disappeared to his own bedroom.

Johnny dropped you at the foot of his bed, grinning down at you as your back jumped against the mattress below you. With one hand on his hip in a mocking stance of authority, he pointed down at you.

“You make yourself comfortable. You basically made my bedroom yours while I was gone, so just pretend it is yours anyways,” you could only roll your eyes fondly in response. “I’m about to take the world’s quickest shower, and if your adorable ass isn’t in this room when I get back I’m going to burn Reed’s lab to the ground.”

You didn’t have the heart to argue that burning Reed’s lab was impossible, given that Reed had custom designed everything in this building to be fireproof in the last 4 years. Instead, you only gave him a mock salute, one that seemed to satisfy him, before he practically ran back into the hallway with a slam of the bathroom door.

The only thing saving your mind from wandering was the linens beneath your skin, still teeming with the unmistakable scent of Johnny that lingered everywhere in the room.

With your blouse and pants discarded into a pile on the opposite end of the room, you didn’t hesitate to slip into one of Johnny’s grey sweaters that he typically wore in the winter. It hung loosely around your shoulders, the one side almost slipping off your arm, and hung low enough to just barely cover your panties-clad bottom half.

One glance around the room was enough to calm your mind for a moment, too. You’d stayed there for the month without him because it was the only place in the entire building where you could just be surrounded by him. The shelving by his closet, decorated with memorabilia and the framed photo of him taken before their first launch into space. The bookshelf of records, with The Wonder of You perched right on top. The record itself had been played almost on a loop some days when you missed him the most, one phrase of his stuck on an endless repeat in your head.

I don’t ever think I’ll get over the miracle that is you…loving me.

There was also the obnoxious painting of him on the wall opposite of the bed. A pretentious gesture to have a painting of your own face hung on your bedroom wall, but such a Johnny move that deep down inside you found it endearing.

The moon hung high in the sky over New York as you stepped up to the window of the darkened room, letting its light bathe over you. It hung just behind the Excelsior, highlighting the damage across the ship in its light. A frown crawled its way to your lips at the sight: the siding torn, the windows cracked, the hull misshapen from the pull of lightspeed space travel. A reminder that they barely escaped, that they barely came back to you.

Your eyes flickered down to the streets, so far below. Even from the high vantage point in the building, you could still make out the people below. The mobs that had begun to form since they had returned, demanding Sue and Reed give up their son in exchange for the planet. The talk shows that called them selfish, the radio hosts who spoke as if they knew what had happened in space, the impossible position your family had been put in. The people who would never understand your family, who would never understand the lives they’ve sacrificed in order to protect them these last four years. What they’ve given up to become the world’s protectors.

These people didn’t know shit, and they’d been pissing you off since they’d begun to form outside on the streets below.

It was the papers hanging on the far window that caught your eye, dragging it away from the ship and the people below. You took a step over to stand before them, flicking on the lamp sitting just beside the window to get a better view.

Johnny’s handwriting had never been the neatest, but you knew it well. The alphabet was strewn across multiple pages, lines connecting certain letters to a phrase written in a language you had never seen before. Taking a glance around all of the pages, that alien language seemed common among every page, as if Johnny had been building new words the more he connected that one phrase to certain letters.

As if a lightbulb went off in your head, you turned on your heel quickly to step up to the record player behind you. Thankfully, under a few other records, lied the one you had handed Johnny that day in the lab a month ago. The second you dropped the needle down onto it, as it slid into the grooves etched into the record, that same alien language sounded through the room: the same thing written across the papers in front of you.

Her language. The Herald’s. Johnny had said something about it on some trip into the lab the day before, before Reed had gathered everyone to explain the little information the two of you were able to gather from Herbie’s samples from their trip to converse with Galactus. She’d said something to him…now, he was reconstructing her entire language from a single phrase.

“You genius, genius boy,” you couldn’t help but mutter to yourself, overwhelming love and pride blooming deep within your chest, before you turned on your heel to stalk back into the hallway.

You didn’t bother knocking on the bathroom door. Shutting it quietly behind you, a soft smile overtook your face at the sound of Johnny humming to himself from behind the curtain.

Whatever was driving you right now, you didn’t even know. Whether it was seeing the lengths that he’d go to in order to protect the people he loved, like reconstructing an entire alien language, or the threat of the world ending in a matter of days, all you wanted was him in the end of it all.

Sweater and panties discarded into a heap with Johnny’s own clothing by the sink, your fingers curled around the edge of the bathroom curtain, pulling it back just slightly. The humming ceased as Johnny looked up, startled for just a moment before his gaze landed on you. His gaze trailed down the length of your body, and you could almost see his pupils dilate in real time. That handsome, heartbreaking smile of his returned as he held out a soapy hand in your direction. You took it without hesitation.

The water was hot, almost on the verge of scalding since Johnny didn’t understand the concept of what was truly hot or not anymore. The water temperature didn’t matter to you, not in the slightest. Johnny only watched quietly as you curled yourself around his bare body, hands sliding up into his wet strands of hair. His own hands curled around your waist, tugging you under the stream of water with him.

“This is a bit of a surprise appearance,” his voice was quiet in the intimate moment under the pouring water from the shower head. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your gorgeous company?”

“Just wanted to be with you,” was all you could manage to say. You were too wrapped up in those blue eyes, the gaze that was entirely fixed on you since the moment you appeared around the curtain. “And…wanted to tell you that you’re a genius. I saw the papers on your window.”

The smile on his face immediately turned sheepish. It always had over the years whenever you complimented him like that. Johnny Storm was used to being complimented on the way he looked, but when it came to someone complimenting him on that genius brain of his, he never did quite know how to take it.

“I-It’s probably stupid and won’t help-”

You surged forward, slotting your lips against his in a passionate kiss. Your fingers tugged just so on the strands of his wet hair threaded between them. His chest rumbled with a groan at the feeling, his grip against your hips tightening as he pulled you until every inch of your bare skin was pressed to his. You didn’t miss the twitch of him pressed against your abdomen.

“It’s not stupid,” your words were mumbled against his lips, stealing another breathtaking kiss from him before you fully pulled away to look up at him. If his eyes were dilated before, then you hadn’t seen them after a kiss.

Johnny stood silently for a second, mouth dropped open just slightly in shock.

“Did…did you just kiss me to shut me up? I thought that was my thing?”

“No, you keep kissing me when I’m mad at you. I kissed you to stop whatever self-deprecating thing you were about to say,” one of your hands slid back down the side of his neck, over his collarbone, and came to rest right over his heart. The thump against his chest was comforting to hear, even as it beat slightly faster than it ever would normally. “It’s a genius idea. To know what it is she might be saying, especially when her language is all over those deep space transmissions we’ve been receiving, you could be well on your way to figuring out the exact piece we didn’t even know we needed to figure out a solution.”

That smile, full of wonder, quickly shifted up into a smirk for just a moment. Your eyes were already prepared to roll, even though your smile was still bright across your lips.

“So, what you’re saying is…I found the lever?”

You laughed: lighthearted, free, full of the most joy you had felt in weeks. You swore you could feel Johnny’s heart skip a beat under your hand.

“Yes, Johnny. I think you may have just found us a lever of some sorts,”

His laughter mixed with your own as he pulled you back into him, peppering a thousand kisses to every inch of skin in his reach. Your cheek, to your neck, right over your pulse point, and down to your collarbones and across your bare shoulders. The water from the showerhead still beat down on your both as you curled your hand further into his hair, nails trailing over his scalp.

“You're one of the only people who has ever believed in me like that,” his words were soft as they were mumbled into your shoulder, almost drowned out by the water. “Sue always has, but not the way you believe in me. You have since the day you walked in, and always made sure to remind me around every corner.”

With a little tug to his blonde hair, you brought Johnny’s face back to yours. He didn’t seem sad, per say, but there was the slightest hint of melancholy throughout those handsome features you adored so much. Like he was thinking back on all the times he was belittled by someone, the times when the press reduced him to nothing but a playboy.

“Because you deserve to hear how brilliant you are. You don’t have the absurd amount of degrees that Reed has, but you are one of the brightest people that I’ve ever met,” the tip of your nose just barely brushed against his as you leaned in, beads of water trailing down the side of your face and dripping from your chin. “It also didn’t help that I was quite taken with you from the get go.”

“You did a semi-decent job of hiding it for four years,”

“Did I, though?”

“Yeah, or else I would’ve fucked you years ago,”

“Well-”

Any retort that could’ve possibly fell from your lips was swallowed by Johnny’s heated kiss.

As long as he always kissed you like this, you’d happily let him shut you up mid sentence forever.

Johnny’s hands were greedy, trailing over every inch of your skin that they could. His tongue dipped just past your lips, mingling with yours as his hands made their way up your sides. Even in the heat of the shower, those heated hands of his still left goosebumps along your skin as they traveled up.

It didn’t take long for one hand to cup your breast fully. His thumb flicked over your already hardened nipple as his fingers squeezed into the plump flesh around it. The moan that cascaded from your lips was swallowed by his own groan of pleasure, and hopefully drowned out by the water itself. His lips found your jawline, nipping at your skin before they trailed a heavenly heat down your neck. His teeth sunk in gently, but firmly, leaving a mark right where the last had just finally fully healed over.

“Missed this. Missed you,” he practically groaned the words into your neck. Johnny’s free hand quickly found its way lower, taking hold of the back of your thigh in order to hike it up around his waist, giving himself the perfect opportunity to ground himself up and into your core. Already soaked, already desperate for him, your head fell back with a moan, thankful for his hold on you keeping you upright in the midst of the water beating down on you both. “Thought about you every day up there, just you. Holding you, kissing you, telling you how much I love you.”

God, you loved this man. More than anything. You weren’t sure words could accurately explain it anymore, so instead you chose the Johnny route: show him.

Dropping your leg from his hold, you were just barely able to find the leverage to spin the two of you out from under the showerhead. The cold never hit your skin, too warmed up from the heat that radiated from Johnny himself. With a gentle push, his back met with the shower wall.

His wide blue eyes never left you as you slowly sank to your knees between his legs. You didn’t miss the twitch in his cock either the second you were level with it.

“Baby, what are you doing?”

“What you did to me before you left: showing you how much I love you,” one palm splayed across his thigh for leverage, your free hand came up to hold his length. A shudder visibly ran through his body the second your skin touched the sensitive skin of his pulsing cock, your gaze locked onto his. “You told me to save this for when you came back. A “saving the world” gift, I think is how you described it?”

His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, laughing lightly to himself.

“Yeah, but Galactus kind of told us to fuck off. Also, he kind of induced Sue into labor and tried to steal my nephew, so I’m not sure I’ve really earned this-”

Johnny cut his own words off the second you gave a single squeeze to the length still resting in your hand. Leaning in, you rested your cheek directly against it, lips so tantalizingly close, eyes still innocently trained up on him, even if every thought in your head was far from innocent anymore.

“Do you want me to get off my knees, or do you want the blowjob, Jonathan?”

He huffed out another laugh. His one hand came to cup your cheek for just a moment, fingers pressing firmly into your skin.

“Baby, if I ever say no to you on your knees, I want you to douse me with a fire extinguisher"

You buried your laughter in the kiss you placed right along his v-line. The tufts of blonde hair that trailed down the pronounced lines tickled at your skin as you lavished kiss after kiss into his skin, desperate to show him your love just like he had to you that night.

The hand that was on your cheek left, finding its place instead against the back of your head as he let out a sharp intake of breath as your lips glided over every inch of his skin along his lower abdomen. Johnny fingers didn’t curl into your hair, didn’t tug, his hand simply sat there and caressed you. Still holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. It lied in wait for you to give him the okay.

Johnny’s moans mixed with the beating of the water against the floor of the shower, half of your body still positioned under the stream of water. That cock, hot with need and throbbing in your hand, twitched the second you gave him a single tug along his entire length. You swiped your thumb gently–but firmly–over the tip, spreading the beads of precum that had collected there across the sensitive, flushed deep pink head.

“I-I don’t remember teasing you like this,” he stuttered over his words, something Johnny didn’t do often. It brought a smirk to your lips in seconds.

“You didn’t,” was your simple answer. Your gaze met his through hooded eyelids, thumb still rubbing just perfectly against the head of his cock, allowing you the perfect sight of his mouth dropping open in another low moan. “Consider this retribution for disappearing into space for a month.”

“I thought we talked about that-”

Johnny's own words were cut off by his own loud, uncontrolled moan the second your tongue darted out to lick a stripe straight up the head of his cock. Sweet, smooth, and addicting the second you had a single taste.

Whatever quip dared to fall from Johnny’s lips ended the second your lips closed around the tip, his cock laid flat against your tongue as you took as much as you could in a single go. It wasn’t enough–it would never be enough–you wanted more. You needed more.

“Fucking hell, baby,” he rasps out, breath hitching the second your tongue reaches further down his length, swiping along every inch of him you can take into your mouth. His hand still lies on the back of your head, still hesitating there, still hovering. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

You want to argue back, about how that’s the exact opposite of what you wanted. What you wanted was him alive, for a very long time, so you could spend the rest of your life showering him in praise and love.

Saying any of that would mean removing him from your mouth, though, and you were already too lost in a sea of pleasure to let go. Not until he was bursting with pleasure at the seams, until you’d shown him how much you loved him. How much you adored him.

Johnny was big, you’d known it the moment he’d entered you and filled you in a way that surely ruined you for anyone else on this earth. In the entire galaxy. You’d never be able to take every inch of him, as much as you wanted to. Even though you wanted to devour him whole, to have him writhing in ecstasy in the palms of your hands.

Instead, you let your hand work over the rest of his length–twisting, caressing every part that you couldn’t sloppily take within the warmth of your mouth. Your tongue salved over every stretch of skin it could reach, gliding down the prominent vein throbbing along the side of his length as your head bobbed back and forth along his shaft.

“Baby–Jesus fucking Christ–I think you’re actually trying to kill me,” he groaned out, words lost in the sound of rushing water and the sound of your head bobbing back and forth.

His fingers curled again, before unfurling, still not crossing that line. The hand you were using for leverage against his thigh came up to grasp his hand in your own, forcing his fingers to curl into the soaking wet strands of your hair without ever removing yourself from his twitching, aching shaft.

For just a moment, you stopped, the groan he let out indicating just how badly he didn’t want you to. Johnny hips canted forward just slightly, as if he was still restraining himself.

Your eyes glanced up at him, his cock still enveloped in the warmth of your mouth and resting against your flattened tongue. You didn’t need to have a mirror to know how much of a mess you were in the moment–remnants of makeup strewn across your cheeks from the water and steam, skin flushed red from the heat, spit dribbling out of your mouth and down your chin.

Johnny was no better. He was unraveling, and it was clear in his eyes. They were blown wide, hiding any semblance of the blue you loved so much. His mouth hung open in bliss, chest heaving with pants. His fingers flexed into your hair just slightly.

You forced him to grip them tighter, and he finally seemed to get the hint–you trusted him completely. There was no one else you’d rather be at the mercy of.

His fingers curled, tugging on the strands. For a moment it stung, but that pain soon gave way to pleasure. The moan that fell from your lips vibrated around his shaft, causing his fingers to flex once more against your scalp, dragging you even closer, forcing himself just slightly deeper within your mouth and profanities to fall from his lips like a song.

“Fuck–shit–fuck baby,” Johnny threw his head back against the tile of the shower, hand against your head guiding you back and forth, keeping the rhythm you had already set the pace for. “If this is what I get for not saving the world, I kind of want to find out what happens when I do.”

You wanted to roll your eyes at his antics. Instead, you pressed yourself forward further, inviting him deeper into your mouth until he filled every crevice of you that existed. That was enough to shut him up for the moment, as his moans grew louder.

Letting go of control, you let him guide the pace. Everything about it was sloppy–obscene–the way your head bobbed back and forth along his shaft, slick with your spit. Your lips were swollen, puckered around him as you sucked in your cheeks just a tad, feeling the twitch of his cock within your mouth once again at your sudden change in pressure.

“Sweetheart–oh my god–I’m not going to last like this,”

It only spurred you on. Taking back just a bit of the control from the hand gripping your hair, you bobbed your head up and down along his length as quickly as you could.

The furthest parts of him were still enveloped in your hands, still being twisted and tugged and now slick with your spit as well. You lost yourself in the pleasure, tongue gliding up and down every ridge and vein of his throbbing cock. Your chest heaved with a gag, the head of his cock reaching as far back as your body could possibly allow him to. All it did was spur you on, another moan falling from your lips, gargled by the sound you made as you dragged yourself back and forth across him.

Another moan fell from Johnny’s lips–your name. It was sinful, the way your name sounded on his lips in this moment of pleasure. The coil of heat within you that had been winding itself up since you’d dropped to your knees tightened, and you knew without ever touching yourself that you were completely soaked, aching for this man you loved more than anything.

“Fuck–baby–I can’t. I can’t, I’m going–I’m going to-”

Pushing yourself to your absolute limit, you took him as far back as you could, forcing back that gag that your body tried to heave from you. Hands taking hold of his thighs, nails digging into his skin, both of his hands found your hair in an instant as the downright delicious moan was practically choked out of him. His cock twitched, his hands gripping to your hair as tightly as possible, before he finally spilled every drop held within him into your awaiting mouth.

Slightly saltier than the precum you had licked straight off of him, but still with a hint of sweetness to it. Still just as addicting to you–the proof of how good you could make him feel, of how good you had made him feel. And, eagerly, you swallowed every drop that he gave you.

Johnny’s hands within your hair tugged you back gently, letting his cock slide back down your tongue before it fell past your lips with a slight pop. Your body heaved, taking in a deep breath of air once again, trying to catch your breath. Johnny heaved above you, too, the sound of your heavy breathing mixing with the shower, the temperature of the water having dropped slightly now with how long you’d been under the running water.

“Come here,”

In contrast to everything else he’d said in the heat of the moment–so raspy, so riddled with pleasure and desire and lust–his words were soft. That coil of heat in you was still wound tight, but that familiar sound of his softened voice had your heart skipping a beat. Something he could so easily do.

His hands grasped yours as Johnny tugged you slowly back up to your feet. Your knees buckled just slightly on the way up, but Johnny’s arm was quick to wrap around your waist, molding you to him to hold you upright.

“Was that good?” your question left your lips quietly, his lips pressing a series of kisses to your temple.

“Better than every dream I’ve ever had about it,” was Johnny's quick response. Hand cradling your cheek, his thumb drawing over the outline of your lips as soft laughter bubbled up from you at his comment. “God, I love you so much.”

Both of your lips found one another, searching blindly with eyes already closed as the constant stream of water beat down over you both. Johnny’s teeth dragged over your bottom lip, taking the skin of your lip between his teeth in a quick bite, his kiss there to soothe the sting before you could utter a single groan.

Johnny’s lips never left yours as he spun you, pressing your back up against the cool shower wall this time where he’d just been. A shiver ran straight up your spine from the coolness of the tiles against your skin, before those heated hands trailed up and down your sides. Around your hips, to your lower back, filling you with warmth as his lips greedily moved against yours still slick with your own spit.

The heat that spread through your body was unbearable. It was driven by lust, by love, by the pure need to feel him in every sense of the world. To have Johnny Storm as close to you as humanly possible. You hike one leg up around his hip, ankle pressing into his lower back, as you ground yourself into him.

An almost primal growl seemed to emit from somewhere within Johnny at the sound, a warning as his hands flexed against your hips to lock you in place against the tile wall. His mouth found your jawline, nipping just barely at your skin.

“You’re going to have to give me a minute to recover here, baby. Think you sucked my soul straight out of me,” your chest rumbled with another round of laughter as he nipped at the skin right beneath your jawline again. You could feel his smile against your skin. “You did! If you don’t give me a minute, I won’t be able to ravish you the way I want to.”

A retort died on your lips as his own moved down, laying kisses against your neck. Soft, gentle, filled with love and passion in every single press of his lips to your skin. You let your hand curl into his wet hair, to glide through the strands and let you nails scratch against his scalp, immersing yourself in the feeling of simply being held by Johnny Storm. Being loved by Johnny Storm.

Then, it happened again: he hummed. You heard it, you felt it right against your neck, and it was impossible not to let tears prick your eyes as you recognized the song once again. That same song–your song.

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

“Did I ever tell you?” Johnny's voice cut through his own humming, head still buried into the crook of your neck. “Did I tell you when I knew I was in love with you?”

You willed the tears away as they threatened to fall, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of love you felt in your heart. All you could manage was a shake of your head, answered with another kiss to the column of your throat.

“I thought you were the prettiest thing in the world those first few months you worked for Reed. Turned on the charm, pulled out every trick in the book, and none of it worked,” another open-mouthed kiss was pressed to your neck. “Then, I came into the lab one day. I had an idea for the suits before we went up that first time. Drew up some shitty looking plans for my idea, too, was just some extra strapping around the legs to give us more mobility. I thought the current ones wouldn’t let us move our legs much. Reed dismissed me, telling me nothing else needed added to the suits. Then, I came back down for a fitting one day, just to see those exact straps I designed added to each of the suits, and none other than you shuffling your papers at your workstation to cover up my designs that I’d left down there.”

You remembered it well, as if it had happened yesterday. The look of dejection on Johnny’s face was clear as day as Reed dismissed him, already happy with the design of the suits as is. That look was burned into your brain as you stayed the night that night in the lab, looking over every aspect of Johnny’s terribly drawn plans to execute them perfectly on the suits.

Reed had come down that following morning and seen the changes. He’d said nothing at first, just examined them, before he gave a little nod of his head and approved of your changes. You’d been quick to tell him they were Johnny’s changes, the ones he had dismissed.

That was the same day you were sure Reed’s opinion on you changed as well, that maybe he didn’t resent the idea of having an assistant anymore. Not when you went out of your way to do something like that for his family.

“That’s when I knew,” Johnny continued, lips following his same trail back up to your jawline before ghosting over your cheek. Still cradling you as if you were the most precious treasure the earth had ever seen. “I took one look at you, hiding those papers, and my heart skipped a beat. And suddenly I was just thinking to myself…shit, I’m about to fall in love with this girl.”

You took a deep breath, letting his words settle within you, before you spoke.

“It started a long time ago, but…I admitted it after the funeral,” his eyes came back to yours as he pulled his head back to look down on you now. You let your hand stray from his hair, fingertips ghosting over every feature on his face–from the curve of his brow to the outline of his lips, memorizing every single piece of him. You weren’t sure if it was a tear that fell down your cheek, or another droplet of water. “I admitted it to myself, and then I locked it away. It terrified me.”

“It terrified you to love me?”

“Yes, because I knew you could break me,” a short laugh left your lips, accenting your words. “The names the media always called you weren’t who you were, but you did always have a reputation. I knew that. Johnny loves space, Johnny loves women…how could Johnny ever love me? If you didn’t, I knew it would break me, shatter me like I was a fragile pane of glass.”

Those blue eyes trailed down to your lips, his thumb tracing your lips, fingers holding your chin within their grasp.

“What changed?”

“The end of the world. It made me realize…I’d let you break my heart if it meant I got to love you, even if it was only for a moment,”

Johnny’s lips found yours without another word, slotting them right where they belonged. Where you never wanted them to leave.

His hand curled around your neck, the other your hip to mold your body to the tiled wall, his own fitting perfectly into the space against yours. One leg still hiked over his hip, his length pressed into your core with a single roll of his hips–hard, hot, and throbbing once more.

Your mouth opened on instinct, inviting him in. Johnny took the invitation in seconds, letting his tongue delve in to mix with yours, to taste every inch of you available. The moan that tumbled from your lips swallowed by his own, drowned out by his own deep groan.

The hand cradling your neck trailed down your body: from your neck, to your chest, along your hardened nipple, and down your abdomen until it curled around your thigh. The heat trail left along your skin bloomed, goosebumps traveling up and down your arms. His hand splayed across your thigh, fingers finding purchase in your skin as he hiked your leg around his waist, allowing your ankles to cross behind his back. Suspended, pressed against every inch of him, at his mercy.

“I won’t break it. I’d never break it,” his words were moaned against your lips, his cock dragging through your soaked folds with every drag of his hips against yours. You desperately tried to conceal the mewls that fell from your lips with every delicious drag of him against you, every catch of his head against your opening. “Not sure if I made this clear yet, but you’re it for me, sweetheart.”

“That’s a bold statement to make,” you whispered, breath fanning out over his lips as your eyes locked with his.

Johnny smirked, eyes never leaving yours, as the head of his cock caught along your opening with another roll of his hips.

“I know, you make me do some crazy things. There’s not a thing I wouldn’t do for you,”

Your brain couldn’t even reflect, to think back on that night in the kitchen weeks ago when he’d said those words to you the first time, before he sunk into you with one single push of his hips.

There was no adjustment needed. No sting. No need to prepare. Your body welcomed every inch of him with a single stroke, like your walls were already carved for him and him alone. Cried left your lips in seconds, hands curling into his hair once again for something to hold onto as you messily slammed your lips back to his, melting into the feel of him as his hands dug marks into the skin of your hips.

“Please–please, please please,” were the only words you were able to cry out, babbling them over and over as you clawed at him, trying to bring him even closer, as if it was possible. It was your teeth that then took his bottom lip between them, biting down just hard enough to bring a groan from his mouth. “Please, Johnny, please, please-”

He pulled his hips back without warning, just the tip barely lodged within your walls, before he drove back in. Hilt buried as deep as your body would allow, his hips pressed to yours, grounding up against you as you threw your head back against the tiled wall. Johnny’s heated lips trailed back down to your neck, a place you were sure he’d live if he could.

“I got you, baby,” he muttered through gritted teeth, another mark placed upon your neck by his mouth. His hips snapped back again, driving along the heat of your walls, star forming in the corners of your vision once more. “Fuck, baby, I got you.”

Your hands never left his hair, curled around the dampened strands. Tugging in time with every gasp of pleasure that tumbled from your lips, with every cry of his name like a prayer into the streaming water over your bodies.

His hips drove into you at a maddening pace. Pulling himself almost the entire way back before driving to the deepest depths that he could reach. A chorus of profanities tumbled from his lips into your neck, littering your skin with calls of pure pleasure and ecstasy. Johnny hands heated themselves just a hint, enough to draw another gasp from your lips, as they curled around each cheek of your ass, gripping the flesh beneath his palms like it was the only thing keeping him going. His handprints surely seared into your skin, marking every piece of you as his.

Body pressed back against the tiles so tightly they were sure to leave indents along your skin, his rhythm never faltered. His throbbing cock, twitching with need, dragged along the warmth of your walls with every bruising thrust into you. The ache was already prevalent in your bones, in your hips, from the snapping of his body into yours without care. You didn’t care, though, not when the pain felt this good.

“Fucking perfect,” his lips found yours again, cutting himself off to lay another open-mouthed, heated kiss to your lips. It was sloppy, filled with the shared moans that dripped from both of your lips, a string of saliva hanging between your mouths when he pulled back by just a hair. “Made for–fuck–made for me, baby. Made just for me.”

“A-All yours. Only yours. Just for you,” you repeated his words, crying out between them, choking on them through mewls of pleasure.

Locking your ankles tighter, dragging him just a tad closer to your body, Johnny’s thrusts changed. Shorter, deeper, but still driving in just as quickly, just as frantically as before. The choked gasps that escaped your throat only increased in volume, tears pooling at the corners of your eyes as you shut them. Head thrown back in ecstasy, you weren’t sure if you were even in the room anymore. Too lost, too deeply buried in your own pleasure to care.

That coil of heat burned deep within you, tightening, threatening to snap at any moment. One of Johnny’s hands made its way back up your body, fingers tweaking at your nipple as you groaned at the sensation into his mouth. A smirk crossed his lips, pressed into yours as he licked his way inside once more, still toying with the sensitive bud rolled between his fingers.

You retaliated, pushing yourself off the wall to drive your hips into his, meeting his thrusts. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass, lips finding your ear as his teeth tugged down on the earlobe. The profanities that fell from his lips sounded like pure sin, mixed with the huskiness and raspiness of his voice, sending another shot of pure heat straight to your core, soaking you more than you already were.

“I-I’m not going to last,” he stuttered out, hot breath fanning over your ear as he rutted into you, pace still brutal and addicting. “Not when you’re so warm, when you feel this good.”

“I’m n-not going to last either,” you barely got the words out, tugging on his hair as you buried your own head into the crook of his shoulder, crying out as another pang of pleasure shot through you with another drag of his cock against your walls. Another press of his hips to yours.

With the end in sight, creeping up on both of you, Johnny renewed his efforts.

One hand grasped onto your ankles behind him, hiking your legs up higher. The angle of his thrusts shifted, somehow burying him deeper within your walls, hitting a part of you he hadn’t yet touched. A sob of pure pleasure tore through your lips, the sound only growing louder when one of Johnny’s hands snaked its way down your front, thumb rubbing little circles directly to your sensitive clit as your body was thrown into overdrive.

You keened at the feel of him, at every snap of his hips as he drove himself into you. Every sink of his cock, every time it nestled deep within your walls. You met his thrusts back with as much force as you could, throwing your hips off the tiled wall and into his, slamming yourself onto him with every ounce of strength you could muster.

That coil of heat only got tighter, threatening to snap with every throb and twitch of him inside of you. Every little circle that his thumb made around that bundle of nerves, every firm press he gave to it. The squelch of your arousal around the place in which you were joined together was loud, louder than the running water still beating down on you both.

The waves of pleasure were threatening to crest over you, and you knew Johnny was right there with you. His hips were faltering, his rhythm shaky, barely able to maintain himself as he still fucked into your with reckless abandon, chasing his own high.

Fingers curled into his hair still, you tore your head from his neck, surging forward to connect your lips with his. Messy, a clatter of teeth together as he tried to pull at your bottom lip and vice versa.

“Johnny–Johnny, I can’t,” was all you could manage to mumble against his lips through your high pitched squeals, his rhythm faltering and his thrusts growing shorter, but still just as deep. “I can’t, I can’t I’m–I’m going to–I’m so close-”

“Me too, sweetheart,” his own words were clipped, mumbled through his fervent attempt to place a thousand kisses to your lips, digging in his hips as deep as they could go. “Let me feel you. Please–please, let me feel it, baby.”

The crest of your orgasm hit like a shockwave, like a rippling wave of pure pleasure moving through your body.

Every cry that left your lips was his name, just his name falling from your lips like a mantra you wanted to repeat for the rest of your life. Your thighs shook, muscles tightening as every ounce of your own pleasure gushed out of you, practically dripping from you, pooling into a ring around his cock as it still drove frantically into you, chasing his own release.

Your name fell from Johnny’s lips, too, as they pressed to yours. His hips dragged in short, deep thrusts before they still, buried to the hilt inside of you. He twitched within your walls–once, twice–before that familiar warmth pooled within you again, every drop of him collecting deep inside of you.

Quiet filled the bathroom once more. Just the sound of your heavy breathing mixing together, accented by the shower. Water still rained down, your skin surely beginning to prune after all this time, the water having turned cold.

You never dropped your ankles, nor tore your fingers from his hair, or let your forehead stop resting against his. Johnny never moved either, not from within you, not even an inch back to fully look at you. He simply leaned in, stealing a kiss from your lips with all the gentleness in the world, reminding you that you were still the most important thing in the world to him.

“Have I mentioned that I love you?” you managed to speak after a few moments, as the charged energy within the room finally dissipated. He laughed, pressing his lips back into yours.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t mind hearing it again-”

A loud bang sounded through the bathroom, coming from the doorway into the hallway. Both of you jumped just slightly at the unexpected noise booming through the walls.

“Look, I’m all for young love, and I’m glad you two are done with your back and forth game that’s been going on for years,” Ben Grimm’s voice carried through the walls, muffled only slightly by the door. “But I’m about ready to tell Reed to put saving the world on hold so he can sound proof every wall in this building. Come on, kid, Johnny can’t be that good.”

Ben muttered something else from beyond the door, something about his earlier comment about keeping the noise down and how he meant it. When you and Johnny locked eyes again, though, all either of you could do was laugh.

“Sound proofing the building,” Johnny managed to say within laughs, pressing a featherlight kiss to your cheek as he shot you a cheeky smirk. “Not a bad idea. Gives me plenty of other places I could ruin you.”

“You’re impossible, Johnny Storm,” was all you said, even as you tugged him back into another kiss. A feeling you were certain you would never get enough of.

❤︎

Reed Richards was insane, that was something you knew long before you began working for him. Just how insane, though?

Well, he’d never attempted to teleport a planet to a different point within the universe, that’s for sure.

The idea was crazy, certifiably insane…but just insane enough that it could work. The same teleportation bridge you’d worked on together, able to teleport an egg just across the lab, was about to be applied on the largest scale possible in order to teleport the world to another point in the galaxy. The only idea just crazy enough to maybe save the Earth from the impending doom that was Galactus.

Somehow, in just 36 hours, this crazy group you were lucky enough to call your family was able to mobilize the world, teleportation bridges built in every major city across the entire world. The power consumption was another problem, but one that Reed’s brilliant mind had been able to solve. He’d praised your work, shortening the length of the power outage from bridge usage to just seven seconds. That mind of his made it smaller, sending the world into a worldwide energy curfew, enough to conserve enough power to move the world without a hitch.

In that dark of that night, you had laid with Johnny in the bed you were slowly calling your own. Those usual plaid pajama bottoms, white t-shirt with that bright blue 4 over his chest. One of his sweaters covering your body, which was curled into his arms.

“Galactus had been reported by the team at the Future Foundation to have passed Mars just hours ago,” the radio across the room, sitting on a bookshelf, sounded through the quiet of the room. “The window of time to save the earth is slowly closing in, as we await the hail mary of Dr. Reed Richards and the Fantastic Four.”

“This is going to work, right?” you had whispered out into the quiet of the night the second the radio had stopped, eyes trained across the room on the sliver of Excelsior you could see through the windows across the room. Most of them were covered by sheets upon sheets of papers, scribbled in an alien language by Johnny’s handwriting.

His grip around you had tightened, a kiss pressed to your forehead.

“We’re going to make it work,”

You hoped that Johnny was right. You needed him to be right.

Nerves wracked your entire body, the sound of Reed, Sue and Ben moving through the lab sounding through your ears. You felt far away, though, like you weren’t truly in the room as you looked up at the giant lab screen before you.

A map of the entire world, markers one by one flickering on as bridges went live across the world. And you? Stationed at the main panel, overlooking the four workstations in which the Fantastic Four would ready the world in, preparing to make the final call. Your hands, shaking, tugged on the oversized sweater you’d stolen from Johnny’s closet, fiddling with the ends of it that rested against the top of your black slacks, trying to find a way to ground yourself in the unfamiliar territory.

“Nervous?”

Sue’s voice cut through the haze in your mind, pulling your gaze to her. Her smile was easy, like this wasn’t the most nerve wracking moment of her entire life, as she slid a coffee onto the table in front of you, her other hand holding the portable baby monitor that looked down on sleeping Franklin Richards upstairs. You took it without hesitation, giving her the tiniest grin you could muster as you took a sip.

“Oh, you know, just the end of the world and whatnot,”

“Take a deep breath, kid,” Ben appeared at your other side, sliding a little paper bag your way: one of Maisie’s snickerdoodle cookies sitting wrapped inside of it. He shot you a large grin as he moved past toward his workstation. “I want it on the record that one is from me, not Johnny!”

“He’s right, though,” Sue chimed in, bringing your attention back to her as your laughter subsided at Ben’s little comment. Her hand came up to your upper arm, resting there in comfort, her thumb sliding back and forth over the fabric of the sweater. “This is going to work.”

“I know. It has to,” you said back with a nod. “Doesn’t mean it’s not terrifying. I haven’t felt this terrified since you four went into space the first time.”

Sue laughed, a sound that somehow managed to instantly bring peace to you. Like a sense of comfort that only she was ever able to bring. Her smile was still soft as her hand squeezed your upper arm gently.

“I don’t know if I’ve ever properly thanked you for everything you’ve ever done for us. None of this is possible without you, you’ve been with us every step of the way,” she gestured around the room as she spoke, to the operation you were about to attempt. “Plus, I think I have to thank you for loving Johnny. Lord knows he was pining for you long enough, I’m the one that always had to hear about it.”

You laughed, bringing over your hand to rest over her hand, squeezing it back.

“Johnny, somehow, might be the easiest part of it. But all of this…I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’d do anything for you guys, you’re my family,” you glanced down at the monitor in her hands, at the sleeping form of Franklin. “I’d do anything to protect him, too. That’s your firstborn, Sue. I…I’d do anything to make sure you never lose him.”

Reed called something out through the lab, something about multiple calls rolling in at once from cities across the globe. Sue turned for just a moment, before she glanced back, squeezing your hand once last time.

“You’re wrong, honey. He’s not my firstborn,” her hand left yours, gently caressing your cheek for a moment, just like a mother would, before her hand slipped away. “I had two kids before I ever had him.”

You wondered, then, how you ever could’ve doubted if these people around you considered you family.

Reed, Sue and Ben took their places at their workstations. Headphones on, microphones to their lips, you listened to their callouts through the room, confirming with multiple cities across the globe.

Copy Lima.

Copy Cape Town.

Copy Sydney.

Copy Tokyo.

With each city copied, you watched every red dot on your map turn green.

The elevator dinged open across the lab, footsteps practically running across the floor before they came to a stop right beside you.

“Guys, I am onto something!” Johnny called out to the room, hands thrown wide in celebration. Reed shot him an unimpressed look from his chair, turning back to the list on the screen before him.

“We’re moving a planet here, Johnny,”

“Yeah, Johnny, it’s 4. Fantastic 4,” Ben emphasized, holding out four fingers in his direction. His gaze shot to you quickly, as he put a fifth thumb up. “5 including you, of course. 6 if we want to count Herbie, and uh, 7 is old enough to be in the mix yet.”

You only shook your head, a smile stretching across your lips for a fleeting moment as Johnny swooped you into his arms. A rushed kiss was placed to your lips before his forehead rested against yours, blue eyes boring into yours.

“I figured it out, baby,”

“The whole thing?” you questioned, understanding exactly what he was talking about.

“Everything I need, completely reconstructed,”

Your smile returned for a moment as you cupped his cheeks, pulling him into another kiss, before planting them on his chest and gently shoving him away.

“Knew you could, genius. Now go get this planet ready,”

With your four favorite people placed before you now, more cities were called into the air: Delhi, Vienna, Rome, Chicago, and countless others.

It was the second every light on the screen before you flashed green that your stomach felt like it had shot into your throat.

Reed glanced back at you, catching your eye, waiting for your signal. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you gave him a nod.

“Earth go for countdown,”

With a single press of a button from Reed, the twenty second countdown began to play on the screen before you.

The hum in the air of electricity was prevalent immediately, along with the slight rumble in the ground as the device just blocks away in Times Square roared to life, along with every other device across the world.

Elbows resting against the table in front of you, your hands covered your mouth, foot tapping incessantly against the ground as you watched the countdown drop second by second: 16, 15, 14, 13, 12.

You spared a glance at Johnny. He was already looking back at you, smile as easy and comforting as he could make it, and he mouthed “it’s okay” to you over and over again.

11, 10, 9, 8, 7-

Maybe that comforting smile would’ve worked if the alarms hadn’t begun to blare, and if the green lights across your map didn’t slowly start to flicker back to red.

“What is that?” Sue called out in worry, lights beginning to flicker red faster and faster. Johnny shot from his chair toward the screen, throwing off his headset in the process.

“What’s happening?”

The quickest that your shaking fingers could, you tapped in a series of keys across the keyboard before you, pulling up the live newsfeeds from around the globe to the main screen of the room.

The Herald. Flying straight through every single bridge across the globe at a speed you couldn’t comprehend. Using whatever power was infused into her to shatter every bridge on impact.

Until every single green light on the map had faded back to red, all except New York.

“She’s coming for the bridge,” Reed called out to the room as everyone stood, staring up at the map displayed before them on the screen.

“No,” Sue cut in, glancing around the room with a look of pure horror. “She’s coming for Franklin.”

You’d never seen Reed Richards panic, not the way he did just then. He’d practically sprinted back to his workstation alongside Sue, just as Ben went back to his. Reed’s finger thrust back in your direction, his gaze turning to you–wide eyed and full of fear–as he shouted.

“Lock the building down!”

There was no hesitation on your part as you input the lockdown code, hand coming down to press the button for activation as Reed, Sue and Ben shouted things across the room at one another.

Johnny’s hand caught your wrist before you could press the button. You turned, catching his eyes as they pleaded with you.

“I have a plan,”

Truly, that’s all you needed to hear. You only nodded, hand not moving an inch.

“Okay,”

“I don’t know if it will work-”

“It will,” you cut him off, surging forward to press a kiss to his lips quickly, before stepping back with a small grin. “I trust you. Go.”

Johnny didn’t hesitate before he was out the windows across the lab, igniting and streaking through the air in moments. The second he was out the window, your hand slammed down on the lockdown button, shuttering every window in the building.

“Wait, where’s Johnny?”

When you spun back around on your heels, all three sets of eyes were trained on you as Ben asked the question. You simply switched the feed on the main screen over to the live feed from Times Square, nodding at the three in front of you.

“He has a plan…he’s got this,”

Moments later, moments that felt like ages, Johnny finally appeared on the screen. Landing directly between the arms of the bridge, on top of the platform, the fire that surrounded him dissipated. With a single flick of the device on his wrist, those same deep space recordings sounded off through every screen littering Times Square, every single recording in her language.

The herald came to a stop, feet in the air above him, the second she heard the recordings.

As if he was fluent, spoken it all of his life, Johnny spoke the language he’d spent days upon days deciphering, piecing together from a single phrase spoken to him. She spoke back, a language no-one else in the room could understand. You couldn’t help it that your nails found their way between your teeth, grinding back and forth against your nails in an attempt to calm the nerves that threatened to jump out of your throat.

“How is he doing this?” Ben called out to the room, glancing around in astonishment, before his gaze settled on you. “He barely had a grasp of the English language.”

“Because he’s a genius,” you simply said, a smile cracking through your anxiety for just a moment. “A genius, genius boy I love so god damn much.”

“23 transmissions, all in your language, traced back to the planet Zenn-La. Your home,” Johnny’s voice broke through on the screen again, speaking in English once more. “They were looking for you so that they could thank you. Once I translated one phrase, I pieced together enough language to understand a part of your history.”

As Johnny spoke, talking through her story to make sure he got it right, something in your heart broke for the woman who was shining in silver on your screen: Shalla-Bal. Just a scientist, desperate to save her own planet and to spare her family, choosing to make the ultimate sacrifice in order to do so.

“Those were messages from the one planet Galactus spared–your planet. These other planets weren’t so lucky. How many do you remember, Shalla-Bal?” the recordings switched over, cries and desperate pleas in alien languages you’d never heard before. “They all begged for mercy. You brought Galactus to all of these planets, and now you’re bringing him to my home. To the woman I love, to my family!”

A scream cut through the recording, her scream, before it cut out. The lab was plunging back into silence, just the faint chatter on the other end of every headset sat across the room at each workstation, every city across the globe trying to piece together what had transpired.

It felt like hours, but it had barely been minutes later, when Johnny finally reappeared in the lab. You’d spun the second you heard him, colliding halfway with him to throw your arms around his shoulders, tugging him in for dear life to hold him. His lips instantly pressed to your temple, hand curling around your waist to hold you to him, as he turned to the others.

“Johnny, that was incredible,” Ben called out as you moved from Johnny’s arms, his hand shooting down to interlace his fingers with yours, tugging you to his side as he shook his head.

“Does it even matter?”

“You saved Franklin,” Sue told him matter-of-factly, leaning back against her workstation with her arms crossed. “Yes, it matters.”

“She told us to leave, to save ourselves. That..maybe we’d live long enough to forgive ourselves for it,” his eyes glanced down to your hands for a moment, before back to Reed. “We aren’t leaving, are we?”

“No,” his response was easy, quick, as he sat on the benches encircling the middle of the lab area. “No, we’re not leaving. We can’t.”

The direct line at every station began to ring, signaling incoming calls from each city across the globe. Reed stalked past all of you, picking up a piece of chalk along his way to his boards. You gave Johnny a small nod, sending him back to his desk as you approached yours, slipping on your own headset and transferring the incoming calls to Reed’s desks to yours.

The frantic voice of a man from Vienna sounded over the headset, desperate to find answers. Your hand ran down your face, trying to will yourself to handle what were sure to be hundreds of calls like this.

“We have multiple calls coming in at once, hold Vienna,” you told the man as easily as you could, holding the line with a single click. Another frantic voice came through on the next picked up call, this time a woman from Rome. “Please, hold for a moment, Rome-”

“We need to bring Galactus here,”

The sudden words from Reed Richards sounded through the room, and silenced everyone in seconds. You turned, headset slipping off your head to look at your mentor, head cocked to the side. There was only one word you could use to describe how he looked in that moment: defeated.

“We need him to come here?” Ben questioned as he and Johnny stepped up along one side of you. “I feel like we just spent a lot of time trying to prevent that from happening?”

“We need to get him away from his ship, and we need to bring him here,” Reed stepped up alongside you, reaching over you to hit a series of keys against your keyboard, pulling the live feed of Times Square back up on the main monitor. “To Times Square, to be exact. Then, instead of moving a planet away from one giant, we move one giant away from a planet.”

He was gone in seconds from your side, stalking back to his chalkboard across the room. Equations were written across the board in seconds, without a second thought, like it was built into Reed’s nature to do so.

You stepped up closer to him, watching him work, and Ben and Johnny hovered behind you.

“If we route every power grid on the Eastern seaboard through our one last bridges, charged back up, we can keep the portal open for…” the equation stretched across the length of the board, before he finally reached his answer, circling it in the white chalk as he dropped it down onto the ledge of the board. “37 seconds.”

“37 seconds?” you questioned, eyes feeling as if they were going to fall out of your head.

“Not a lot of time to throw a space god off a planet,” Johnny cut in as you shook your head.

“It’s not, and it’s insane,” you tacked on, shaking your head at Reed, voice rising in volume. “I follow you blindly into most things, Reed, but this is crazy. I mean, where would you even send him?”

“To the far edges of the universe, he’ll be stranded there without his ship,”

“And how are we supposed to lure him to Times Square?”

Reed grew quiet, a sign you always took as a bad omen. When Reed didn’t know what to say, or was struggling to find the way to say it, it almost never ended well.

“I haven’t figured that out yet-”

“You have,” Sue cut in, drawing the attention of every person in the room over to her. “We have to use the only thing Galactus wants. It’s the only way…we have to use Franklin.”

The room went still at her words, as if every ounce of oxygen was plucked straight from the room. Maybe it had been.

You turned, along with Johnny and Ben, to look at Reed. Hoping he’d argue.

“...yes,”

The scoff that fell from your lips was instant. You couldn’t even describe the emotions that curled within you, the pure anger and rage at the mere idea of using a poor, innocent child as bait for some devourer of worlds. Within a second, you stalked across the room, shoving past Reed on your way to the elevator.

“No, absolutely not,”

“Please, just wait-” Reed’s hand barely caught your upper arm before you ripped it out, turning with tears pooling in your eyes.

“No! I will, and always have, followed you everywhere Reed. I trust your judgement around every corner, because I know you’ll always find a way to fix a problem. Because I look up to you. But if this is what has to be done…I can’t. I can’t do it, I can’t be a part of it. I can’t do that to him, not even if it would save the world,”

No one tried to stop you from leaving the lab, not that you would have listened.

The cool night air couldn’t even calm your nerves, could satiate the anxiety coursing through your veins. It could’ve been minutes, or even hours you weren’t sure anymore, of standing on the balcony overlooking New York from the living room of the Baxter Building. Your hands were white knuckling the railing. Every so often, you attempted a deep breath to try and calm yourself, but nothing seemed to work.

Poor, innocent little Franklin Richards. To be used as bait. Of all the absurd ideas you had entertained from Reed over the years, the thought of having to use his child like that wasn’t something you could fathom. Even if you knew, as well as everyone in that room, that it was the only way.

“Are you accepting company on the balcony, or did you want to brood alone out here?”

You scoffed, casting a glance back at Johnny. He rested so casually against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you. You didn’t turn him away, but flicked your head back to the skyline.

“How long have I been out here?”

Johnny slid into the open space beside you, the sleeve of his burnt orange jacket sliding along yours.

“An hour. Enough time for Reed to talk to Sue, for them to hatch a plan, and for it to all come together,” he bumped his shoulder with yours, bringing your gaze to him. “Galactus’ ship is on pace to reach earth by late afternoon tomorrow. We’re going through with the plan.”

“I figured. It’s the only way,” with a soft groan, you let a hand run down your face, rubbing at the sides of your eyes. “I’m sorry, I freaked out. I shouldn’t have stormed out.”

Johnny’s hands took yours, tugging you into him. You turned without hesitation to face him, palms resting against his chest as he held both of your hands within his.

“Ben and I kind of screamed Reed’s head off for a hot moment afterward, so trust me, no one blamed you. I was seconds away from following you out,”

His head bent forward, leaving the lightest of kisses to your knuckles, eyes never leaving yours the entire time.

“What’s the plan for the city?”

“Sue is going to talk to Harvey Elder–yeah, I know, the nickname Moleman is funny–in the morning. He’s got a bit of a soft spot for her, so she’s pretty sure that he’s going to agree,” Johnny paused for a moment, thinking over his words, before he let out a deep breath. “We’re going to evacuate the city into Subterranea. When the buses come to shuttle everyone in…I want you on one of them.”

Immediately, you shook your head, mouth dropping open to argue.

“Johnny-”

“I can’t lose you,” he cut you off, blue eyes looking earnestly down on you, pleading with you to listen. “It’s bad enough that I’m going to have to worry about Franklin, and my sister, and Reed and Ben the entire time. I can’t worry about you, too, I’ll go out of my mind. Because if the girl that I cherish, that I treasure, that I love the most was in the line of fire too, then I can’t focus on anything else. I need to know you’re somewhere safe, where Galactus can’t hurt you, where he can’t take you from me. I…I need something to come back to. You’ve done your part, let us do ours.”

Every part of you wanted to argue, wanted to fight back. You’d been with them this long, been through every step of this process with them the whole way. You wanted to be with them, to help them, but what could you do?

You’d done your part, and now, you had to trust that they’d all come back to you in the end.

“Okay,” you agreed softly. The relief that flooded his face was instant the second those words had left your lips.

Johnny’s hands curled around your neck, tugging you up into a kiss that stole your breath away. A single tear slipped down your cheek as you felt every emotion that was poured into that kiss. Every ounce of love, every promise he’d made, every firm press of heated lips to yours that promised to engrave the feeling into your soul for the rest of your life.

A goodbye kiss. One in case it was the last you’d ever have.

“No matter what happens tomorrow,” Johnny whispered the words against your lips, cradling you within the palms of his hands, looking down on you as if you were the sun and he was a planet simply stuck in your orbit. “Just remember that I love you.”

You repeated the phrase like a mantra in your head. Every second, every minute, every hour that you were without him.

From the second you and Lynne stepped onto the bus to Subterranea, the last two employees of the Future Foundation to evacuate the city in the final moments of peace that Earth would know, you whispered it to yourself over and over again.

Remember that I love you.

Lynne never let go of your hand, gripping onto it like a lifeline.

That hand became your lifeline, every moment you were trapped in the cold depths of Subterranea, wishing you could just feel the sun for a moment, see the blue of the sky.

Every time the earth above you rattled, thundered, and bits of debris fell to the ground around you and coated you in dust, you knew it was the footsteps of Galactus marching across the city you loved. Toward your family. And every time, you repeated those words once more to yourself.

Remember that I love you.

And finally, after what felt like forever, the message was relayed through the radios from Reed himself: it was over. They’d won.

Every single citizen around you celebrated. They cried, they cheered, but you didn’t. You wouldn’t, not until you saw them with your own eyes. Not until you saw him.

The destruction of the city was evident. Building torn apart, debris littering the roads, various avenues torn to shreds by the sheer size of Galactus.

Citizens lined the streets as they poured back out into the city from Subterranea. You stood with Lynne at the doors of the Baxter Building, welcoming employees who met up with one another, reuniting on the front lawn and the sidewalks, cheering that, somehow, the world was saved.

A smile only crossed your face the second you laid eyes on them again.

Blue and white suits torn, covered in debris, hair a mess, but alive. Walking straight up to the building together, little Franklin cradled in the arms of his mother. Battered, maybe a little broken and bruised, but alive.

Lynne’s laughter rang through the air the second you broke into a sprint. Johnny met you halfway, ignoring the laughter of his own family, as you flew directly into his arms.

Arms wound tight around his neck, his around the backs of your thighs as he lifted you from the ground without a second thought, spinning you through the air. Your laughter rang out, even as tears slid down your cheeks.

Johnny’s hands slide from your thighs, to your hips, to cradling your waist, bringing you back down until your feet finally touched the ground again. He didn’t even give you a chance to speak before he leaned forward, capturing your lips in a kiss.

“There’s so much I have to tell you,” he murmured against your lips, never straying far enough that you weren’t touching. “You probably won’t believe me.”

“You came home from space with superpowers, Jonathan Storm, I think I’ll believe just about anything at this point,” giggles left your lips as you said it, pecking at his lips over and over again, never wanting to stop touching him.

“Good,” he spun your once more, a smile as bright as the sun stretching across his face as you laughed through your tears again. “As long as you always believe me when I tell you I love you.”

Johnny Storm loved you, now and forever, and you knew it was true. You would never fully understand the reason why, but maybe that was just the wonder of him.

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rebecca--barnes · 28 days ago

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…no thoughts just this🫠

#sir… this is a family friendly movie #fantastic four #fantastic 4 #fantastic 4 first steps #fantastic four first steps #johnny storm #human torch #joseph quinn #johnny storm x reader #johnny storm smut #johnny storm x y/n

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legacygirlingreen · 5 days ago

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That you are || Johnny Storm

Pairing: Johnny Storm (FFFS) x female! reader

Summary: Johnny Storm was many things. Hot headed, shameless flirt, and your bosses younger brother. But, what happens when you realize there is more lurking beneath the baby blues and charisma? Someone intelligent, thoughtful and maybe even a bit bashful... (No use of y/n)

Warnings: lonliness, tooth rotting fluff, Johnny is that perfect blend of soft/uncertain/scoundarl, office sex, desk breaking, don't get to blow a load but I think it's better this way...

Word Count: 25,000+ (I got carried away...)

Author's Note: Couldn't help myself after seeing it a second time for my birthday. You are getting Johnny round two. Loosely inspired by the vibes of Hozier's "that you are", because I was feeling soft and slow and easing one's self into love. Enjoy folks.

How could someone be so utterly wrong about another person?

Perhaps it wasn’t all intentional. Bias was unavoidable to a degree. Woven into human nature as certain at times as our hair color or eye color. We built our opinions from scraps of known information, shaped by learned behavior and the neat little patterns our brains insisted on seeing. It was biology to use that information in order to protect oneself from harm. And it certainly didn’t help that the temporary promotion came with a gentle but pointed warning from Mrs. Richards herself…

“I need to warn you about something that comes along with the territory the next few months—”

“I think I’m prepared to handle the job’s tasks,” she interjected, aiming for a mix of humility and quiet confidence in her abilities.

“Oh, it’s nothing to do with your skills,” Sue assured, though her pause lingered a fraction too long. Ever the diplomat, she weighed each word with care, as if balancing her professionalism against the instincts of an older sister.

“Johnny is…” Sue’s eyes softened, but there was something underneath. An almost imperceptible flicker of concern. “A handful.” The warning hung in the air, far heavier than the casual delivery suggested. A handful could mean many things. Immature. Demanding. Reckless. Charming in that dangerous sort of way. And yet, no amount of quiet bracing could have prepared her for the moment he actually walked in.

The door swung open like it had been waiting for his entrance, and if his sister’s comment had summoned him. The faint scent of motor oil and something faintly burnt drifted in with him. He wore the grin of someone who’d never been told no. A confidence in his step that made it feel like he knew the entire world stopped and stared at him alone. “Hey, Sue—” his gaze slid, easy and unhurried, until it caught on her.

Sue gestured between them. “Johnny, this is—”

“The temporary assistant,” he finished for her, stepping forward without hesitation. “I’ve heard plenty about you.” His handshake was warm, literally, and he held it for half a beat too long, grin deepening like he wanted to see what it would take to make her blush.

“I hope it was all relevant to the job,” she replied, meeting his eyes with the same measured steadiness she’d use in a boardroom. Her tone wasn’t cold, but not open either; it was precise, like every word had passed inspection before leaving her mouth.

Johnny tilted his head, studying her. “Guess we’ll find out.”

She withdrew her hand, smoothing the edge of her clipboard against her palm. “If there’s anything you need work-related, you can go through me. Otherwise, I’ll be coordinating with Mrs. Richards directly.”

“Oh, I think we’ll be talking plenty,” he said with an easy wink. It was the kind of gesture most people would let linger in the air. She didn’t.

“As much as the job requires, Mr. Storm.” Her nod was crisp, professional.

“Please, call me Johnny.”

“I prefer to keep things professional in the workplace,” she said evenly. “It helps maintain clarity.”

“Yeah, see, that’s not going to work for me,” he said, grin leaning more boyish at that moment.

Sue stayed quiet, her expression unreadable. As if deliberately letting the moment stand. It was both proof of the warning she’d given moments ago and a silent test to see how her new assistant would handle the man in question. Luckily, the charms of the Human Torch seemingly missed. Without missing a beat she replied, “Then we’ll just have to disagree on the matter until you give me a real reason to adjust to informality.”

Johnny’s eyebrows lifted, and for the briefest moment, amusement and curiosity sparked in his eyes like a struck match. “Well,” he said, leaning back just enough to suggest he’d conceded without actually conceding, “guess I’ll just have to earn the downgrade to ‘Johnny.’”

“Highly unlikely, given this arrangement is only through the duration of Mrs. Jones’s maternity leave,” she replied, tone even. “However, I can’t dictate how you choose to spend your time, Mr. Storm.”

“A challenge.” His grin sharpened, all boyish confidence. “I like that.”

“Okay, Johnny,” Sue cut in, her voice edged with older-sister authority. “That’s enough harassing the poor girl.”

“I reject that. I’m not harassing.” He scoffed, looking at the woman mouthing can you believe her, only to be met with an unamused shrug.

“Go.” Sue’s tone was flat, firm. It was the kind that brooked no argument.

“Leaving.” He tipped his head toward her in mock salute, then glanced back at the assistant. “Pleasure meeting you, Sweetheart. I’ll see you around.” And with that, he’d left as casually as he’d arrived, like the interruption had been nothing more than a warm-up act.

Thus began a steady procession of small, unavoidable run-ins with the man. The first came during her opening week on the job. Sue suggested a short trip back across town to the Baxter Building. Something small to act as a private celebration before Tabitha’s send-off to bed rest ahead of her little one’s arrival. Just the three of them, some bakery pastries, and coffee spread across the couch in the quiet living area.

The peace lasted all of ten minutes.

“Alright,” came a voice from the elevator, carrying the particular brand of mischief that seemed to announce him before he actually appeared. “I return the galactically powered menace to your watchful eye. After letting him skip nap time and pumping him full of sugar.” A blond head poked its head into the living space, eyes lighting up as they saw her. “Oh, speaking of sugar…”

Johnny strolled in like he owned the floor beneath him, Franklin perched easily in his arms. The toddler’s little sneakers bounced against Johnny’s side with every step, the boy practically vibrating from whatever sugar-laced adventure they’d just had. Judging by the spark in Johnny’s eyes, he himself was in a similar state.

“Johnny,” Sue scoffed, already sensing the trouble before it unfolded.

“What?” He grinned, all innocence that didn’t fool anyone. “I gotta beat Ben at being the Funcle.”

“How’s my favorite non robotic assistant?” he’s eyes darted to Sue’s regularly staffed assistant who looked at him unamused. “No offense Tabby,” He told her as she rolled her eyes, hands settling on her swollen belly.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Storm,” Sue’s newest charge replied evenly, offering him the same professional nod she had the first time they’d met.

Johnny grinned, as if her resistance was the best thing that had happened to him all week. “Y’know, most people would’ve cracked by now. You’re starting to make me nervous.” When she didn’t respond to his comment he continued. “Guess I’ll just have to find another way to win you over. Maybe Franklin can help.”

At the sound of his name, Franklin beamed at her and held out a tiny hand. She reached forward and shook it gently, the faintest smile touching her lips. “See that? He likes you already,” Johnny said, shifting his hold on the toddler. “And the kid’s got great instincts.” Sue made a quiet, knowing sound from her corner of the couch, and Tabitha sipped her coffee to hide a grin.

The assistant straightened, folding her hands neatly in her lap. “Instincts aside, I’m sure Franklin’s affections are much easier to earn than mine.”

Johnny’s brows were lifted in a mock challenge. “We’ll see about that.”

Sue cut in, her voice warm but pointed. “Johnny…”

“What? I’m just talking,” Johnny said innocently, bouncing Franklin on his hip with practiced ease. The toddler let out another gleeful squeal, arms flailing in delight. Johnny's eyes, however, lingered on the young woman next to him on the sofa. That ever-present smirk playing at his lips never wavering. “We’ve got months, Sweetheart,” he added, voice dropping just slightly, just enough. “I’m a patient guy.”

His gaze flicked toward the coffee table. Years of living with Sue had trained him not to ask before grabbing what he assumed was fair game. Especially with a toddler in the mix. In the Baxter Building, "what's mine is yours" was practically law between the Storm siblings. So, without a second thought, he reached out and snagged the to-go cup resting beside a stack of picture books and spare pacifiers. He popped the lid, took a confident sip... and immediately regretted it.

Instead of the lightly sweetened, milky, vanilla thing Sue usually drank, he was hit with a full blast of unadulterated espresso: jet black, no sugar, extra strong. He paused mid-sip, visibly tensing like someone who’d just been punched in the taste buds.

Sue caught sight of him and let out a sharp breath. “Johnny—”

He grimaced, forced the liquid down with theatrical suffering, then stuck his tongue out like a scolded child. “Who drinks this willingly?” he rasped, eyes watering. “This isn’t coffee, it’s punishment in a cup.”

Setting the drink down with exaggerated caution, he glanced back at the woman, her amusement clearly growing behind her smirk. Something ignited in his stomach watching as her less than rigid act came at his displeasure. The first time she’d let down the professional act even for a moment.

Johnny leaned in, tilting his head, his grin finding new life. “You know,” he said, voice smooth now, “a girl who drinks coffee like that... probably needs a little sweetness in her life.” He let the words hang, just long enough to be felt before flashing her the kind of grin that usually came with a warning label. “Lucky for you, I’m happy to provide...”

“Out.” Sue’s voice cut through the air, firm and unforgiving as she extended her arms toward Franklin. Her expression left no room for argument, just the steady authority of an older sister who’d long since run out of patience for Johnny’s antics. Johnny raised his hands in surrender, already backing toward the door, mischief practically radiating off him. But as he stepped away, he cast one last glance over his shoulder, eyes locking onto the woman again.

With a wink and that signature smirk, he added, “Rain check on the Sweetness. Don’t think you’re getting out of it. I’ll wear you down eventually.”

He hadn’t been entirely wrong, either. Because it wasn’t long after that moment that he surprised her. Not with another joke, or a ridiculous stunt, but with something far more disarming.

Three days. That’s all it had taken. Three days into managing the carefully coordinated chaos of Sue Storm’s professional life, and she was already debating whether or not she should fake her own death and vanish into the mountains. Tabitha had officially left for maternity leave and the mess left behind had fallen squarely into her lap. She was doing her best not to buckle under the pressure, holed up in the adjoining office, a fortress of to-do lists, unanswered messages, and too many events to cram into someone else’s schedule. Sue Storm really was Mrs. Fantastic, if she managed this much on a normal basis.

A vinyl record spinning low in the corner, some vintage jazz number meant to soothe her fraying nerves. It almost worked. Until the faint murmur of voices in the hallway reached her. It was barely noticeable over the gentle crackle of the record, but enough to prick her ears. Then: a knock. Polite. A beat too casual. Followed by the door opening anyway. She didn’t look up, figuring it was Sue, back early from her meeting. But the footsteps were too light, too familiar in their rhythm. Then a voice.

“Man, you look tense, Doll.”

She blinked, then raised her head. Johnny Storm stood next to her desk, grinning like he’d just stumbled upon something far more interesting than whatever his day had originally held. Her glasses were crooked. Hair a mess from her anxious fingers running through it all morning. She knew she looked a wreck. Not the kind of way anyone wants to be caught in, and especially not in front of him. But then again, he was just her boss’s younger brother. Still, the sting of his observation made her wince.

“Way to make a lady feel great about herself, Mr. Storm,” she said, voice dry as paper. The apology started to form on her lips, soft and automatic. “I’m—”

But he laughed. A real, unpolished sound that came from somewhere deep in his chest. It hit the walls of the office and filled the space entirely, as it worked to clear out the tension just a little. “No, no, you’re right,” he grinned, holding up his hands in theatrical surrender as perched himself on the only empty corner of her cluttered desk. “I mean, I’ve been waiting to see a crack in that ironclad wall of yours,” he said, head tilted as he looked down at her, not with judgment, but with curiosity. “Gotta say, I like it.”

“Not much in here that lets me know more about you,” he said after a beat, voice thoughtful. “I thought I’d come do some recon, but looks like all you dragged up here was some music.” He gestured toward the corner, where the record player spun something low and moody. All smoke and soft brass, filling the spaces where words might’ve been too much.

She blinked, caught off guard by the weight of his comment. For once there hadn’t been teasing. Just… genuine curiosity. Still, she shrugged, returning to her screen without really seeing it. “There’s not much to know,” she said lightly, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Just a girl trying not to drown in Sue Richard’s impossibly packed schedule.”

In her tone she tried to push off the soft, dismissive, nature with her practiced kind of armor. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to be known. Not here. Not by him. But Johnny didn’t push. Instead, he sat something onto the desk beside her keyboard with a quiet thunk. A to-go cup.

Her eyes flicked to it, then to him. He nodded to it without a word, his eyes effectively saying for you. She’d been expecting, instinctively, something saccharine and ridiculous. A caramel swirl monstrosity with six sugars and whipped cream, and enough milk to supply a whole maternity ward. A callback to his over-sweetened preferences, that time he’d drank from her cup when he’d assumed it Sue’s.

But the cup was plain. The aroma sharp. She lifted it slowly, cautious and took a sip. Dark. Strong. Bitter. Exactly the way she drank it. Her brows lifted, just slightly, and for once, words didn’t come easily. She glanced at him, surprised, and found him watching her with a small, satisfied smirk. Not smug. Just… pleased. “Didn’t think I’d get it right?” he asked, a playful edge to his voice, though his posture hadn’t shifted.

She blinked once, then set the cup down gently, fingers lingering on the warmth. “Honestly?” she said, glancing back at him. “No.”

“Well,” Johnny leaned back slightly, bracing his hands behind him on the edge of her desk, his posture relaxed, but his grin anything but. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

And damn him, he was. His words tugged at something in her chest. Something small and inconvenient and far too easily stirred. She hated that it caught her off guard, hated more that he didn’t seem to notice the ripple his presence left behind. His gaze had already shifted, roaming over the cluttered corners of her office again with idle interest, like he was seeing it for the first time.

“You know,” he added casually, “you should really make this space yours. At least for now. Studies say people work better when their environment actually feels like them.”

She huffed a small breath through her nose. “I’ll bear that in mind.”

Johnny straightened then, clapping his hand lightly against the desk as he stood. “Anyway. I’m off. Some charity golf thing. Sunshine, cameras, pretending I know what a nine iron is. You know how it is.”

She offered him a glance, amused, maybe even a little reluctant to see him go, but it was brief. Controlled. “Thank you,” she said softly, fingers curling around the warm cup still nestled beside her keyboard. “For the coffee, Mr. Storm.”

He rolled his eyes with theatrical flair as he turned toward the door. “One of these days,” he tossed over his shoulder, “it better be just Johnny.” And with that, he disappeared, leaving behind the faint scent of his cologne, the lingering heat of the espresso, and an absence she suddenly wasn’t sure she was thrilled to notice.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Saturdays were sacred. Or at least they were supposed to be. A quiet little corner carved out of her week, untouched by phones ringing or emergency scheduling changes. No Sue, no international crisis, no chaos in superhero suits. Just her and the worn spines of old books, the scent of paper and dust, the ritual comfort of a place that didn’t expect her to perform.

The shop was tucked away. Not the sleek chain store down the block, but a tiny, tucked-in independent with uneven floors and the kind of silence that invited exhale. She came here often enough that the owner, a soft-spoken man with thick glasses and a deep love for Victorian ghost stories, knew her name. She was halfway down the second-floor fiction aisle, a stack of paperbacks already under one arm, when a voice spoke from just behind her. “Didn’t peg you for a poetry girl.”

She froze. Turned. And there he was. Johnny Storm, of all people, standing a few feet away, sunglasses pushed into his hair making it look disheveled, a to-go coffee cup in hand, and the most unbothered expression she’d ever seen him wear. He was in jeans. A white shirt. Some kind of casual jacket. Not the polished charm of his media persona, not the gleam of a man trying to impress. Just… a guy. In a bookstore. On a Saturday morning before most of the city bothered to be awake.

She blinked at him. “You’re kidding.”

“What, because I know the British romantics?" he grinned, stepping closer and casually leaning against the shelf. “Give me a little credit. I read things. I went to college. I suffered through English class. Birds and mountains, all that jazz.”

“I bet you pretended to read them. Or got some girl in your class to give you the bullet points ahead of class with that charming smile.”

He laughed and held up a hand in mock defeat. “Guilty. But seriously, Rime of the Ancient Mariner?” he nodded at the book in her hand. “You into seriously ruining the vibes of a wedding?”

“I’m into the classics,” she said, slipping it into her stack.

“Well,” he said, with a half-smile, “guess I’ve been categorizing you under the wrong genre.”

She raised a brow, skeptical. “What genre did you have me under?”

He sipped his coffee, thinking for a beat. “Non-fiction,” he said finally. “Sharp, efficient. All structure, no fluff. Certainly not poetry.”

She snorted before she could help it, and regretted it instantly when his smile brightened like he’d just won a bet with himself. “I try to be professional,” she said, mostly to herself.

“And you’re great at it,” Johnny replied, surprising her with the sincerity behind the words. “But I’d like to assume there’s more to you than lists and calendar reminders.”

Her arms tightened around her books, something about his tone striking too close to something she hadn’t let herself think about in months. That she’d built her entire life around being useful. Efficient. The calm in someone else’s storm, and somewhere along the way lost a bit of the things she found enjoyable. It was hard to have a life when the majority of your working life revolved around keeping someone else afloat. “Shouldn’t you be at some event?” she asked, shifting the subject, her voice steady again. “Shaking hands, lighting things on fire for charity?”

He shrugged. “Needed a reset. My therapist says I have to find quiet places that don't come with a camera pointed at me.”

That surprised her. Enough that she glanced up from the shelves of gently loved books in front of her. “You have a therapist?”

“Why does everyone sound so shocked when I say that?” he laughed. “I’ve seen things. Fought things. Spend quite a bit of time on fire. That can mess with the mind I’ll admit. Sue cried the day I voluntarily booked my first session.”

She laughed, and he smiled like that had been the goal all along. Then he held out the coffee in his hand. “Trade you. You recommend a book I’ll pretend I’ll finish, and I’ll give you this, on the condition I get something that doesn’t taste like battery acid in return.”

She eyed the cup with suspicion. “What is it?”

“Straight espresso,” he said, lifting it like a dare. “No sugar, no cream. I’m branching out. Figured if you drink enough of this stuff to kill a man, it must be worth the risk. Spoiler alert: it’s not. It's still crime in a cup.”

She took it, sniffed, and sipped. Bitter. Strong. Exactly how she took hers. He didn’t joke after that point. Didn’t smirk. Just turned and walked toward the front counter and waited for something better from the tiny espresso machine tucked into the back corner of the store, installed by the owner’s wife in what looked like a quiet rebellion against the chain cafés nearby.

She brought the cup to her lips again, pretending not to notice how easily he left it behind in her hands, like it was second nature to share. Like the fact that his mouth had touched it before hers wasn’t worth remarking on. Not that it mattered. She’d drunk after him once before. This just felt… different.

Her eyes followed him as he drifted toward the shelves, one hand brushing the spines like they might give him the answer to some quiet question. No rush. No bravado. Just a guy wandering a bookstore like the world outside wasn’t made of crime, gossip columns and headlines. Then she recalled his request. Something for him to read.

Johnny Storm didn’t strike her as the kind of man who read often, and certainly not by choice. There was too much velocity in him, too much need for movement and distraction. She imagined him more of a fan of the cinemas than novels. There was strong doubt he sat still long enough to fall into a story unless the pages were filled with action or something lude. And so, she'd never quite assigned him a literary genre in her mind. No tidy label. No easy shelf to place him on.

Something accessible seemed safer, palatable, maybe even charming in its simplicity. So by the time he returned, a faint grin curving his mouth, one hand cradling a new cup of something more suited to his taste, the other tucked coyly behind his back like it contained a secret, she already had a book waiting in her hands.

She wasn’t entirely sure what made her reach for that particular one. Maybe it was a quiet rebellion against his reputation. A subconscious test, curious to see how he'd handle a story that offered less escape and more reflection. One with a title that might resemble a mirror. Maybe she simply liked the way it looked, worn and quietly tragic among the glossier titles. Whatever the reason, she held it out between them.

The Beautiful and Damned. He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “This isn’t some cryptic signal for me to back off, is it?”

She shook her head, lips twitching. “Not unless it needs to be, Mr. Storm.”

Johnny turned the book over in his hands, scanning the blurb with a surprisingly thoughtful glance. “Read Gatsby a while back. Liked it more than I thought I would. I’m sure it’s good. Thanks for the recommendation.” Then, without missing a beat, “Which brings me to my much more superior suggestion for you.”

She tilted her head. “What do you mean, your suggestion for me?”

“I’m giving you a book rec. Equal exchange. A little literary diplomacy if you will. We read, we reconvene, we give each other another and so on.” Something about that phrasing caught her off-guard. We reconvene. Casual, natural. Like it wasn’t strange at all. Like they were just two friends with overlapping routines and not… whatever this was. It wasn’t quite friendship, was it? And it certainly wasn’t nothing.

A quiet discomfort flickered at the edge of her thoughts. It was all a little too casual, too familiar. Too easy. She worked for his sister, after all. There were boundaries, weren’t there? Unspoken, maybe, but understood. Sue had never forbidden anything, never drawn a line in the sand. Her only warnings had been gently pragmatic: that Johnny could be a lot. Loud. Reckless. The type who flirted with beautiful women because he didn’t know how not to.

But she’d never said stay away.

Before she could dwell on it too long, Johnny was already extending the book toward her with something like pride glittering in his eyes. The Blazing World, by Margaret Cavendish. Her brows lifted slightly, surprised by the choice. A name she didn’t recognize. A curious blend of science fiction, philosophy, poetry and in ambitious prose. Strange and brilliant in ways that rarely showed up on casual reading lists, and even fell through the cracks of scholarly work.

She took it slowly, fingers brushing his as they passed the slim volume between them. His skin was warm, unsurprisingly, given he carried the sun’s power in his body. She let her thumb skim the edge of the pages, not yet opening it. Her voice came quiet, more contemplative than she'd expected. “You’ve read this?”

“I’ve attempted to read it,” he said, a little sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t get far. But I liked the idea of it. Worlds colliding. A woman building her own Empire. Seemed like something you’d appreciate more than I could.” The comment caught her off guard. Not because it was simply flattering, but because it was…observant. It showed his understanding of her tastes, given the little information he had on her, and provided a thoughtful recommendation. It almost made her feel sheepish, given she’d picked something off best sellers lists to pass along to him, where he’d put in more effort.

She glanced up at him, studying the way he leaned back slightly, letting her set the tone. No teasing. No firework smile. Just him, standing there, strangely sincere beneath all that practiced bravado. “It seems weird,” she said finally, thumbing the cover. “But brilliant. The kind of thing I’d stumble upon.”

He grinned again. “Sounds like I provided a better suggestion,.”

She tried not to laugh but didn’t quite succeed, and he looked far too pleased with himself. They stood there a moment longer than necessary, the space between them a breath too close, books cradled like offerings in their hands. Then, casually he said, “So. Same time next week? For the post-mortem?”

She blinked. “You’re seriously going to read it?”

He shrugged, but there was something steady in his eyes. “I said I’d try. Besides…” He nodded toward The Beautiful and Damned in his hand. “Feels like the kind of deal you don’t back out of.”

She smiled. It was small, restrained, but real. “Same time,” she said softly before she could overthink how unprofessional it was to be seeing her boss’s brother on a familiar basis. It was the kind of thing she’d scold herself for… later.

He offered a mock salute before turning to leave. He didn’t bother her after passing a few bills to the owner. Didn't even turn back around. She could hear the bell above the door jangling as he stepped out into the late afternoon light. She watched him go, unsure what it meant. If it meant anything at all. But with the book still clutched in her hands, she tried not to dwell. And when she finally cracked open the cover, she found herself smiling.

Not because of the words on the page. But because, against every reasonable assumption, Johnny Storm had just surprised her.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The office lights were too bright when she came back in. The kind of artificial white that bleached out time and made everything feel faintly unreal. Her meeting had run over, leaving her with a dull headache and the vague sense that she’d forgotten something important, though she couldn't name what. She set her folder down with a muted thud, shrugging off her coat before freezing mid-motion.

There was something on her desk. Not just something. A book. She recognized it immediately. The worn, wine-colored cover. The familiar weight of it in her memory. The Beautiful and Damned. Only, this copy wasn’t hers. Hers had never been dog-eared like that, the spine a little more cracked now than before, the corners softened as if handled too often in too short a time. She stared at it, unmoving. A note might’ve made it easier. An explanation. Even a dumb sticky note with Told you I’d finish it in his cocky handwriting would’ve fit the narrative she’d built for him in her head. But there was no note. Just the book, left deliberately.

Slowly, she pulled out her chair and sat down. The silence of the office folded around her. When she opened the cover, her breath caught. The margins were full of ink. Not dense, frantic scribbles or anything that suggested pretense. Just... notes. Small, blocky handwriting in black pen. He hadn’t annotated passages with inherent rhyme or reason or filled every blank space. He’d written where it seemed to strike his fancy.

She flipped to a random page.

“This guy's self-pity could power the city grid.”

“Does Gloria actually like him or is she just bored?”

“This part… hits harder than I wanted it to.”

She turned another page. Then another. Every few leaves, there’d be another brief line in the margins. Some funny. Some startlingly intelligent. Some… vulnerable in a way that made her heart trip a little in her chest. Not because they were bold confessions, but because they weren’t. They were insights. Real glimpses into how his mind worked. He’d read it. Not skimmed, but truly read it. In a matter of days. And he’d thought about it. Enough to leave pieces of his perspective tucked between the lines.

She wasn't sure what she had expected from him on Saturday. Maybe a careless toss of the book back into her hands, some joke about the slow downfall of rich people, a sarcastic rating. But not this. Not a thoughtful connection with the literature. Not ink on paper. Not something left behind, with no need for acknowledgement or using it as an excuse to harass her at work. Just a quiet answer to a question she hadn’t realized she’d been asking.

There was more to Johnny Storm than he truly let on.

Her eyes drifted back to the desk. Nothing else was left with it. But there was something in the way the book had been placed deliberately there without spectacle. Like he wanted her to find it. Like he wanted her to notice. But he didn’t want to be around when she flipped through it. The realization was almost endearing in a way. Perhaps he wasn’t fully confident with the situation after all.

She leaned back in her chair, the book still open in her lap. The office buzzed faintly around her, but she didn’t hear it. Instead, she felt the weight of those pages, of everything between the lines. And for the first time in a long while, she didn’t know what to do with that kind of sincerity.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The bookstore was quieter than usual. No light filtered through the front windows, not with the snow falling outside. And the cold shift in weather seemingly kept everyone away. A coffee grinder rumbled briefly before dying into stillness. The smell of cinnamon and old pages curled in the air. She was already in the same aisle when he found her, pretending to browse, fingers resting lightly on the spine of a book she wasn’t reading.

“Hey,” came his voice, softer than usual.

She looked up. Johnny stood a few steps away, hair slightly windblown, coffee in one hand, the other shoved casually into the pocket of his jacket. He didn’t look like someone who set things on fire for a living. Here, he just looked... a little uncertain. Maybe even a little hopeful. He nodded toward her, then toward the shelves. “So. Did you finish it?”

It took her a beat to register the question. She gave a small nod, folding her arms. “I did.”

A pause. He took it in stride, stepping closer, careful not to get too close. “And?”

She tilted her head, fingers still resting on that forgotten book beside her. “It was strange,” she said finally. “Dense. Messy. Ahead of its time. Kind of brilliant. Kind of exhausting.”

A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So... you loved it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

She rolled her eyes, but softly. “What made you pick it?”

He shrugged. “I remembered the title from an old lecture back in college. Seemed like it’d match your energy. A woman building her Empire and all, with that dramatic energy of hers.”

That pulled a laugh from her, and she tried not to internally scold herself for the involuntary nature of it. “You think I have dramatic energy?”

“I think you build your own world,” he said, too quickly, before glancing away like he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. “Or, you know. Something like that.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. Just... charged. She watched the way he sipped his coffee, how his fingers wrapped around the cup like he needed something sure to ground himself in the moment. “I liked the annotations,” she said after a moment. “You are actually funny when you aren’t trying too hard.”

“I can’t say I get that a lot,” he said, but the smile was modest. No fireworks. No bravado. He looked at her then and for a second she didn’t feel like she was standing in a bookstore at all. Just suspended, caught between the margin of something she hadn’t named yet and something he wasn’t forcing her to.

He gestured toward a nearby display. “Okay. Your turn.”

“For what?”

“New picks,” he said. “I’m clearly on a streak. I’ll try not to ruin it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is this becoming a regular thing now?”

He gave a half-shrug, half-smile. “Only if you want it to be.”

The words hung in the space between them, casual on the surface, but landing somewhere far less casual inside her. He said it with the same ease he said most things, like nothing mattered too much, like no moment was ever heavy enough to be held too tightly. But now, with him standing just behind her, following her lead as she turned down a quieter aisle, she couldn’t quite ignore the way her thoughts tangled around the simplicity of it.

Only if you want it to be.

What did she want it to be?

She let her fingers trail the shelves, touching covers she didn’t read, spines she didn’t care about. Searching. A book for him, that was the task. Another title. Another exchange. Something witty or unexpected. Something that said I see more in you without actually saying anything at all.

And yet her mind refused to focus. Because now, the game felt different. Slightly altered in its stakes. It had been harmless, hadn’t it? Originally just a test to see what he was made of. Now it could be a flirtation wrapped in pages and margins, passed between them like a secret handshake. Now it felt like she was making choices with weight. Choosing a book meant choosing how much to show. What version of herself she wanted him to hold in his hands. How much of her growing appreciation for him she’d let on.

Behind her, she could hear the subtle shift of his footsteps as he paused somewhere down the aisle. Not crowding her. Not pushing. Just… waiting. As if he knew better than to fill the silence too soon. She pulled a title from the shelf, turned it over, and put it back. Too grim. Another. Too ridiculous. Another. Too transparent.

How did you find the perfect book for someone who was suddenly no longer a passing curiosity? What does he see when he looks at me? The question slipped in before she could stop it. It wasn’t that she needed an answer. But lately, the way he watched her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention, it was quieter than the Johnny Storm she’d been warned about. No charming remarks. No obvious lines. Just these brief, disarming glances. Like he was trying to understand her.

And now here she was, stalling in front of the fiction section. Like what she picked for him could open or close a door she hadn’t even decided she wanted to walk through. She glanced sideways, found him leaning lightly against the end of the shelf, idly flipping through something he hadn’t really chosen. He looked relaxed. At ease. He was watching her, eyes lifting from the pages every so often to her, then back down. Not like he was even particularly curious about the outcome. Just... present. There. Noticing. She turned back to the shelves, pulse ticking louder than it should’ve. Eventually, her fingers settled on a slim paperback. One she remembered liking years ago but hadn’t thought about since. She turned, holding it out to him before her mind could make her lose the nerve.

Johnny took it, thumb brushing the edge of the cover, then flipping through a few pages like he was testing the weight of it. “From the Earth to the Moon, huh? Any particular reason?”

She hesitated, then lifted a shoulder. “Sue mentioned once that you liked space. Said it was your first love. Probably would be your last.”

That pulled a faint smile from him, the crooked and boyish kind, but something flickered behind it. He leaned into the shelf beside him, posture casual but gaze a little more focused now, the book still resting open in his hand. “Asking my sister about me,” he said, voice lighter than the look he gave her. “Now that’s unexpectedly personal.”

“I wasn’t asking about you,” she replied, too quickly, too defensively. “She mentioned it, and I simply cataloged the information.” Her voice was clipped, her posture a touch too stiff. Like she’d said more than she meant to and was trying to shrink it back into something neutral.

But he didn’t tease her for it. Didn’t grin or throw out some easy line the way she expected. He just watched her. Not with judgment, but with something far more subtle. Curiosity, maybe. Or understanding. She couldn't tell. He flipped the book closed with one hand, the soft sound of the pages coming together. “Well,” he said at last, eyes flicking to the cover, “it’s a good pick. You’re not wrong, by the way. About space.”

She raised an eyebrow, surprised he was still on that thought. “I used to memorize the constellations,” he continued, more to the book than to her. “Could name them all before I hit eight. Used to think the stars made more sense than people did.”

That last line hung there, a small piece of himself that was unguarded. Like it had slipped past his usual filter of flirtation. She didn’t say anything right away. Just watched the way he shifted his weight, his free hand sliding into the pocket of his jacket, like maybe he regretted the truth of it.

“You don’t think that anymore?” she asked, carefully.

“I think,” he said, glancing up again, “that the older you get, the harder it is to look up. So much happening around you, all the responsibility of being an adult, it leaves little room for those daydreams of distant stars.” He said it like it wasn’t profound. Like it didn’t carry a weight that caught her off guard.

Her fingers curled slightly at her sides, aching to fidget, to ground herself in something tangible. Instead, she said, “That’s why I picked the book. Thought maybe you could use a reminder of simpler times.”

That made him smile again. “I’ll read it,” he said, voice low. “Promise.” She gave a small nod, unsure what else to do with the weight of him looking at her like that. Like she wasn’t just a person passing through his orbit, but something fixed. A point of gravity. Then, thankfully, he broke the moment. “Alright,” he said, tucking the book under his arm. “I owe you one now. You want to cry, laugh, or question the futility of existence?”

She smirked faintly, relief bleeding into the expression. “Dealer’s choice.”

“Dangerous words,” he said with a wink, stepping away from the shelf and back toward the café corner of the shop. “Alright, emotion roulette it is.” She followed a few steps behind, bookless, hands tucked into her sleeves. But the space between them wasn’t awkward. It was almost familiar; comfortable in a way that snuck up on her.

“Okay,” he said, a little breathless, like he was admitting something that might cost him. “I’ll confess, I did some research before today. So this isn’t just a spur-of-the-moment pick. I might’ve also called ahead to make sure they had something in stock.” He didn’t wait for her reaction. Just pressed the book gently into her hands before she could protest. She looked down.

John Clare.

A collected volume. Thick, matte-bound, the kind of edition usually found in academic libraries or quietly aging on secondhand shelves. It wasn’t a single title, not a curated selection by the poet himself, but a posthumous compilation. Normally, she avoided those. They always felt like someone else’s hands had been too involved. Like the purity of the author’s voice had been filtered through other intentions.

But this time, she didn’t move to hand it back. Not when he stood there, a little hopeful. Like he knew it wasn’t flashy, and certainly was off the beaten path, and had still chosen it anyway. She traced a thumb lightly along the edge of the pages. The spine cracked faintly under her grip, and she could already feel the density of it. The weight of someone’s entire lifetime of work captured in the binding.

“You called ahead,” she repeated softly, not quite a question.

He shrugged, half-apologetic. “Didn’t want to wing it. Figured if I was gonna bring you poetry, it should be something thought out a bit more than your Frosts of the world."

That answer surprised her more than the book itself. She opened to the first page, letting the weight of it settle in her hands. The paper was thinner than she liked. The font, a little too small. But there was something in it that made her pause. A sort of stillness she hadn’t expected. “Clare’s not one of the poets I’m largely familiar with, but I know of him. A bit more accessible than most,” she said.

“Yea,” he agreed. “I read a few of the shorter ones. There was this one about a field, or maybe it was a tree? Either way, it didn’t sound like much. But then halfway through one of them just… it made sense in a way I didn’t expect.”

She blinked. That wasn’t the kind of reaction she expected him to admit. Especially not about a 19th-century poet who wrote about hedgerows and abandonment in the same breath. “So you picked this for me,” she said slowly, “because… it got under your skin?”

“I picked it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “because it felt honest. Messy. Kind of sad, but not in a showy way. Thought maybe you’d like that. I thought breaking up the rich academics with a man who spent time in an asylum or living amongst paupers would have a genuine nature you’d enjoy. You don’t seem to like flashy things.”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she looked down at the cover again, the faint embossed lettering of Clare’s name. Something inside of her shifted. Like a door opening somewhere she hadn’t noticed was locked. Normally, she would’ve dismissed the book. Too long. Too curated. But he’d gone looking for it. For her. With intentionality. And that changed everything. She didn’t say thank you. Not because she wasn’t grateful, but because the words felt too shallow for what he’d just handed her. Not the book itself, but the thought behind it. So instead, she just held it. And that seemed to be enough for him.

Johnny didn’t press. He didn’t wait for a reaction like he needed validation. He just gave a small nod, "There's a table open near the back," he said, tilting his head in the direction of the café corner, where a window seat sat mostly in shadow, partially hidden by a crooked row of nonfiction titles and a wilting potted plant. “If you’re not in a rush.”

She hesitated, then followed. Neither of them said anything as they settled into the space. He placed his drink down, she set the book beside hers, and for a while, the only sounds were the low murmur of voices across the store and the soft shuffle of pages turning somewhere nearby. She watched him over the rim of her cup. He’d leaned back in his chair, eyes scanning the shelves across from them as if thinking through something he didn’t want to name. His fingers tapped an idle rhythm against the wood, quiet and patient.

Finally, she reached for the book again. Her thumb flipped through the first few pages. The introduction. The publication note. The timeline of Clare’s life, compressed into neat paragraphs. Born poor. Largely self-taught. Obsessive. Unwell. Brilliant. Forgotten.

She landed on a random poem.

“I am! Yet what I am, none cares or knows.”

Her breath caught, just slightly. It was the kind of line that didn’t require understanding. It simply existed with profound truth. Like someone had written down a thought that had once lived, wordless, at the back of her own mind. And now here it was, plain and devastating and true. She didn’t look up right away. Didn’t want him to see the way the words had impacted her. But he must’ve noticed something. Because after a beat, his voice cut in, quiet.

“That one stayed with me, too.”

Her eyes lifted slowly to his. He didn’t smile. Didn’t try to soften the weight of it. He just looked at her like he knew. And it wasn’t the intensity that got to her, it was the ease. The way he let silence exist between them without rushing to fill it. He was simply present.

She closed the book carefully, ran a finger once along the edge of the pages, and asked, suddenly needing to know, “Why are you doing this?” Johnny blinked, caught off guard by the directness of it. “This,” she said again, motioning vaguely between them. “The books. The effort. Poetry, for God’s sake. I know you’re not doing this just to cure some momentary boredom. I’m sure you could find much better company for that.”

There was no accusation in her tone, just quiet curiosity, laced with something more hesitant underneath. A softness mixing with caution. He leaned back in his chair, exhaled once through his nose, and ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Honestly?” he said. “I’m not totally sure.”

He gave a short, humorless laugh, more reflex than anything else, and looked down at the table like the words might be hiding there. “But when I’m around you,” he continued, slower now, “it’s like I don’t have to keep being whoever everyone thinks I am. I don’t have to try so hard to be entertaining. Or clever. Or whatever version of me people are used to.”

His eyes lifted to hers again. “You don’t look at me like I’m supposed to prove something. That’s… rare.”

She didn’t speak, but she didn’t look away either. “And I think there’s something about you,” he went on, quieter now, almost hesitant. “Something still. Like, there’s this kind of loneliness to you, but not the sad kind. More like you made peace with being on your own. I don’t exactly like to just sit with myself and my own thoughts if I can avoid it.”

That made her inhale a little too sharply. His expression softened, but he didn’t apologize for saying it. “I guess I just like being around that,” he said. “It feels safe. Real. I don’t know. Maybe that sounds selfish.”

“It doesn’t,” she said, almost before he finished.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. “It’s not about impressing you. If it was, I’d be doing a way worse job, trust me. I’ve got a knack for putting people off at a point when the ‘charming’ nature no longer seems, well, charming. I think I just… want to know what it’s like to be seen by someone who doesn’t already have an idea of me in their head.”

She held his gaze, heart ticking too loudly in her chest. She felt guilty. Just because she hadn’t made the thoughts known, she did have ideas in her head. Ones that were constructed from Sue’s warning. From the articles she tried to avoid. Small giggled conversations on her walk home from young women calling the billboard of him half exposed dreamy. The only contradiction to those being from the sparse moments he’d shown her since those flirty interactions at the beginning.

This version of him — stripped of bravado, all the golden-boy confidence gone — felt startlingly close to something she hadn’t realized she missed in the company of people. A kind of honesty that didn’t ask for anything back. She looked down at the book again, ran a thumb along its frayed edge. “Well,” she murmured, her voice soft but not without a hint of dry amusement, “you’ve shown me a few sides I didn’t expect to experience, Mr. Storm.”

The use of his name was deliberately formal, but not cold. More playful than professional now. A tease, laced with familiarity. The kind of formality that invited contradiction. He caught it immediately. His grin flickered to life. “Careful,” he said, eyes narrowing slightly in mock warning. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late.” He tapped a knuckle gently against his temple. “It’s already in there.”

She rolled her eyes, but it lacked any real bite. The weight of the moment hadn’t lifted entirely. It lingered beneath their words, steady and quiet, but this, the soft return to banter, felt like exhale. Like an acknowledgment that they could hold both things at once: the intimacy, and the distance. The honesty, and the pretense. Johnny took another sip of his coffee which had long since gone cold, but he didn’t seem to care. His gaze drifted back to the book in her hands, then to her. For a moment, something uncertain passed through his expression. Almost as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do next now that the conversation had settled, now that silence had taken root between them again.

He looked away, toward the front windows of the shop. Outside, the snowfall had thickened. What had started earlier as a quiet flurry had built slowly into something more committed. The light from the streetlamps cast soft halos through the drifting flakes, and the sidewalks were turning from gray slush to something closer to white. “Huh,” Johnny murmured, more to the window than to her. “Coming down harder now.”

She followed his gaze. People passed by in heavy coats, shoulders hunched, breath visible in short bursts of steam. The kind of cold that made your bones feel thinner. “I could walk you home,” he offered, lightly.

The words were casual. He tried to make them sound that way, at least. But there was a quiet earnestness underneath. She looked at him for a second too long. Long enough that his confidence wavered just slightly, a flicker behind his eyes. “Are you planning to set yourself on fire for warmth if I say yes?” she asked, deadpan.

He grinned, his shoulders loosening with the shift in tone. “I mean, I wasn’t planning to, but I could probably manage it if things got desperate.”

She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched despite herself. She stood, the book still in hand. “Fine,” she said, slipping her coat on. “But if you turn this into some dramatic chivalry act, I’m leaving you.”

“Noted,” he said, reaching for his jacket. “Subtle heroism only. Got it.”

They paid for the books without conversation. Just silently ringing up, bags wrapped tightly around the precious cargo so it wouldn’t get damp. Then they stepped out into the street together. The snow greeted them in silence. Clinging to their hair and eyelashes as they walked side by side down the sidewalk. The city felt smaller in the snow. The world reduced to a few feet ahead of them, the hush of their footsteps, and the occasional flicker of streetlight through the white.

They were halfway down the block when the wind came slicing between the buildings, sharp and sudden. It cut through the wool of her coat like it wasn’t even there. She flinched at the cold and instinctively curled in on herself, shoulders tucking tighter, hands disappearing deeper into her pockets. A shiver worked its way through her before she could stop it.

Johnny noticed. He glanced sideways at her, brow lifting just slightly, like he was trying to decide how much trouble he'd be in for what he was about to do. Then, without a word, he reached across the space between them and tugged her gently into his side. One arm slung easily over her shoulders, like it had happened a thousand times before. Effortless. “Pretty sure Sue would kill me if I let her assistant freeze to death on the street,” he said, casually. Light on the surface.

But his arm stayed where it was. Solid. Warm. Unmoving. Her steps faltered for a half-second. Less from the physical shift and more from the fact that it felt... Natural. Not like something he was doing to be charming. Not to get a reaction. Just a kind gesture to keep her warm.

She glanced up at him, lips parted slightly like she might object on principle. But he was staring ahead, focused on the snow, pretending like he hadn’t just closed the distance between them with no ceremony whatsoever. “You really think Sue would care that much?” she asked, tone deliberately flat.

“Oh, she’d absolutely care,” he said. “She really likes you. Warns me pretty repeatedly not to run you off.”

She let out a quiet breath, not quite a laugh. And then, surprising even herself, she didn’t move away. His warmth radiated through the fabric of her coat. The snow was still falling, heavier now, and the sidewalks were turning slick with a fine sheen of frost, but beside him, tucked neatly into his side, she didn’t feel quite as brittle in the cold. They kept walking like that. No big moment. No shift in the world around them. Just his arm around her shoulders. And her letting it stay there. Which, for both of them, felt quietly remarkable.

They rounded the final corner before her building, the familiar stoop materializing out of the haze. She slowed her steps, and so did he. “This is me,” she said quietly, pausing at the foot of the stairs.

He stopped with her, but didn’t pull away just yet. His arm stayed where it was for a second longer than necessary before he let it drop. The absence of it made the cold return too quickly. He looked at the building, then at her. Snow clung to the edges of her coat, melted on the curve of her collar. She didn’t meet his eyes right away.

“You warm enough now?” he asked, tone light.

She nodded. “More or less.”

He gave a slow exhale, breath fogging in the space between them. Then, almost as if to explain the gesture retroactively, he added, “Didn’t want Sue to kill me for letting her assistant freeze to death on a Brooklyn sidewalk.”

She huffed a quiet sound that wasn’t quite a laugh, but close. “How noble of you.”

“I have my moments.”

She glanced up at him then, finally meeting his gaze. Snow was caught in his lashes, and melted into the blond fringe over his forehead. There was nothing performative in his face now. No smug smile, no raised brow. Just a softness she didn’t quite know how to answer.

“Well,” she said, adjusting the book under her arm. “Thanks for the escort, Mr. Storm.”

He gave a slow nod, as if there were words he wanted to say but chose to hold back. Then, with a small, familiar tilt of his head, he said, “Anytime.” Stepping back from the stoop, he added, “I’ll see you Monday.”

The reminder settled between them. Sue’s schedule, the foundation ceremony for their late mother, with Johnny needing to be there for part of it. She nodded, the thought grounding her. They’d see each other again in less than forty-eight hours.

“Goodnight, Mr. Storm,” she said softly, a smile tugging at her lips as she started up the steps. She didn’t look back, but her fingers curled tighter around the book she carried. Eager to lose herself in its pages. In something that made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t in years.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

She didn’t see him on Monday. Not because he’d flaked. Johnny was many things — sometimes reckless, often loud, and rarely on time — but never unreliable when it counted. Especially when it was related to his family.

She didn’t see him because she never made it to work at all.

Sunday night had slipped into a quiet blur, the kind of fatigue that wasn’t cause for alarm. But morning came with a harsh jolt. A fever burning through her, a stuffy nose that wouldn’t clear, muscles aching in a dull, persistent throb. The flu had claimed her completely. She spent the day wrapped in blankets, while she drifted in and out of restless sleep. Outside, the world moved on, but inside her house, everything felt still. Except the steady, frustrating pulse of illness.

Sue had told her to stay home. The call had gone through that morning. Franklin crying in the background, muffled sounds of bickering between Ben and Johnny over cereal and Sue’s gentle insistence and no-nonsense warning. “You need to rest. You’re not permitted in the office until you feel better. That’s an order.”

She had reluctantly agreed, lips pressed tight, even as guilt settled heavy in her chest. Missing work felt like failure. Like letting Sue down. Letting Johnny down, especially since the foundation was in memory of their parents, stung especially hard given their recent… breakthrough. But the fever that had clawed its way into her bones didn’t care about guilt. It demanded surrender. And so she surrendered, curling deeper into tangled sheets, the weight of the blankets somehow both comforting and suffocating.

The hours passed in a strange blur. Outside, daylight faded from pale to gray, then sank into the muted shadows of early evening. The city’s usual hum dulled to a low, distant thrum. The apartment felt hollow. She’d never put much effort into updating the place. Where most clung to sleek, modern trends, she preferred the warmth of older things: a four-poster bed, a worn chestnut wardrobe, faded floral wallpaper, candle holders still half-used. It had a quiet kind of charm. A lived-in elegance, even if she rarely spent time there. Her fever-glossed eyes drifted over the room. Past the quilted blanket draped over the plush chair in the corner, the wooden record player and vinyl stack beside it, the shelf overflowing with books, titles spilling onto the floor like fallen soldiers.

And there, on the nightstand, lay the book Johnny had given her. Still unopened.

She closed her eyes again. The television murmured in the background, turned low, more ambient noise than entertainment. The stillness was a comfort.

Until it wasn’t. A knock. Hesitant. Unexpected. She froze. The room seemed to shrink around her. Another knock came, firmer this time, breaking the fragile calm. Her pulse fluttered. Who could it be? Friends? She didn’t have many in the city. Family? Even fewer. Maybe the fever was playing tricks on her. When the knocks didn’t come again, she sighed and sank back into the pillows. Probably someone at the wrong door. A delivery. A mix-up. She was too sick to care.

But then, light. Not the flicker of the television, but something warmer. Like a fireplace glow. That’s nice, she thought hazily. Fireplaces are nice. A small, delirious smile tugged at her lips as she buried herself deeper under the covers.

Another knock. Not from the front door this time. From her bedroom window. She sat up, breath catching, sheets clinging to her overheated skin. Panic lanced through her, briefly, until she registered the source of the flickering light outside the glass. She stumbled toward the window, ignoring the fever-sweat clinging to her back, the weakness in her knees. Fumbling with the latch, her fingers finally managed to pry it open. A blast of cold winter air rushed in, stealing the breath from her lungs and chasing heat from her cheeks.

And there he was. Hovering just above the fire escape, flames curling lazily around his shoulders and hands, casting flickering light across the snow-dusted ledge behind him. Johnny Storm. “I thought I had the wrong window for a second,” he said, grinning, though his voice held something gentler than his usual swagger. A thread of concern tugged behind the humor.

She blinked, dazed, gripping the windowsill like it might keep her upright. “You’re here?”

“Uh... yes? Is that a question?” he replied, one brow arching in that familiar, teasing way.

“Just... fever,” she mumbled, her gaze drifting past him, toward the soft mess of her room. The nest of blankets, the tissues, the half-empty mug of cold tea on her nightstand. “Wasn’t sure I was hallucinating.”

He didn’t laugh. Not really. Instead, he stepped closer, the flames fading from his skin until only the natural warmth of him remained, haloed in faint light. Then, before she could even process it, his hand reached forward. Back of his dexterous fingers, cool and gentle against her forehead. “Oh, doll… you’re burning up,” he murmured, brow furrowing.

She turned her face slightly, attempting a weak smile. “Bit ironic coming from the Human Torch.” That led to a chuckle, short-lived though it was, as it dissolved into a sudden coughing fit. She braced herself against the window frame, chest heaving, head spinning.

Johnny’s hand hovered, uncertain, ready to steady her if she swayed too far. “Easy. I’m not worth laughing to death over, yeah?”

She gave him a look, still half-glazed from the fever. “Do you... need me to come down and unlock the front door?”

Johnny tilted his head, a spark returning to his grin. “What? And ruin the moment? I’m Prince Charming, Sweetheart. I can crawl through the window like Romeo.”

Despite herself, a breathy laugh escaped her lips. She stepped back, giving him room. “Just don’t fall, Hotshot.”

“Oh, I never fall,” he said smoothly, one foot swinging over the windowsill. “I fly.” With practiced ease, he climbed inside, landing softly on the hardwood floor beside her bed. The moment he was in, she noticed the bag slung over one shoulder. Navy blue backpack, slightly beat-up, and obviously full.

Her brows furrowed. “What’s in the bag?”

“Supplies,” he said matter-of-factly, already setting it down on the floor. “Soup. Electrolites. Cold meds. Every single cough drop the corner store had. A thermometer shaped like a dinosaur, don’t ask, and your favorite cookies. Which, for the record, I had to bribe someone to get the last pack of.”

“You really came all the way here... just to bring me cold supplies?”

He shrugged, kicking off his sneakers. “Sue said you were sick, and when you didn’t show up today, I figured I’d do what any irresistible fire-powered hero would do.”

“You broke into my room.”

“I entered with style,” he corrected, “Huge difference.”

She sat on the corner of the bed, the warmth in her cheeks no longer just from the fever. “You’re ridiculous.”

Johnny pulled out the soup can, shaking it gently. “And yet, here I am. Ridiculous with a side of chicken noodle.” She watched him move around her space like he belonged there. Like it wasn’t weird at all that a literal superhero had just flown into her bedroom window in the middle of a winter night. Or that her boss’s brother, Jonathan Storm himself, was standing in her room with a bag and concern written all over his face. Like taking care of her was just something he did now.

Almost as if he could sense the direction her thoughts had drifted, Johnny’s gaze wandered across the space. His expression shifted. She followed his line of sight, bracing herself. It wasn’t the Baxter Building. Not even close. He lived among glass walls and touchscreens, floors that practically cleaned themselves, and a fridge that probably told you the weather and your mood. Her apartment, in comparison, felt like it belonged in another century. The kind of place with creaky floorboards and mismatched furniture passed down, not bought.

Framed photos lined her dresser. A school portrait from second grade with pigtails. A blurry snapshot of her with a chocolate-covered mouth at a birthday party. Trinkets from forgotten vacations. A chipped ceramic dish that held earrings and loose change. The floral wallpaper had peeled in places, but she hadn’t bothered to fix it.

And then… the books. He turned toward the far wall, stopping short. “Whoa.” Her eyes followed his. Three narrow shelves were mounted unevenly, packed end to end with novels. Classics, sci-fi, romance, history. Some stacked sideways, others crammed on top of one another like a game of bookish Tetris. And that wasn’t counting the ones on the floor. Piles of them leaned against the wall, curling at the corners, some clearly re-read until the spines cracked.

“You… uh,” Johnny said, gesturing at the organized chaos. “You ever think about getting an actual bookcase?”

She blinked. “The shelves work fine.”

“They’re working overtime,” he replied, stepping closer. “You’re one sneeze away from a paperback avalanche.”

Despite herself, she smiled. “They’ve survived this long.”

“I think we oughta ban you from the bookstore until you figure out a better way to display this incredibly large collection of yours,” he teased, eyeing the leaning towers of novels like they might collapse at any moment.

“That’s only about a third of it,” she admitted, voice raspy with exhaustion. “I’ve got boxes tucked in closets. Bit of a hoarder when it comes to books…”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Johnny said, still grinning. Then, after a beat, his expression softened. “Sorry, I shouldn’t be making you talk this much. You sound like you’ve been gargling gravel.” He glanced around the room again, his gaze landing on a small door just to the right of her bed. “Bathroom?” he asked, nodding toward it.

She nodded. Without another word, he made his way over and opened the door. She frowned slightly when it didn’t close behind him, her curiosity rising, until she heard the faucet turn on.

The sound of running water filled the room, followed by the creak of a cabinet and the soft clatter of what she guessed was a soap dish. He emerged a moment later, brushing his hands together. “Alright. Got the water running. Not too hot, not too cold. Just enough to ease the pain.”

She blinked at him. “You drew me a bath?”

He shrugged, casual. “Better you try it while someone’s here to make sure you don’t drown or fall and hurt yourself.”

She let out a breath that was half a laugh, half disbelief. “Wow. That’s… unexpected.”

“I’m full of surprises, sweetheart.” He turned, walking back toward the window like he might be heading out. But then he stopped and looked back at her with a more serious expression. “I’ll wait downstairs. Unless you want me to go?” His voice was light, but there was a flicker of something unsure beneath it. His eyes dropped to his sock-covered feet, as if she might suddenly ask him to grab his sneakers, climb back out the window, and forget this ever happened.

For a moment, she said nothing, just watched him, feeling the warmth behind her ribs outweigh the fever in her skin. “You can stay,” she said softly. His head came back up at that, relief flickering across his features. “But,” she added, clearing her throat, “no making fun of Mr. Bear or anything else mildly embarrassing you may come across. I’m too fevered to fight back right now.”

He gave a low chuckle, hand already over his heart. “Scout’s honor. I’ll be on my best behavior. And I’d never mock… Mr. Bear,” he paused, testing the word as his eyes settled on the little brown teddy bear on her bed.

She rose unsteadily from the bed, and for a second, he instinctively stepped forward, attempting to steady her but she waved him off gently, managing her way to the bathroom door. Just before disappearing inside, she glanced back over her shoulder.

“Hey Jonathan?”

“Yeah?” Hearing his full name, not the one he went by, was a step in the right direction, but still felt entirely too formal for his liking. Still, he fought the grin threatening to take over his face at the small concession she’d offered.

“Thank you,”

His mouth opened like he had something clever to say, but what came out was softer. “Anytime, Doll.”

She lingered just a moment more after the door clicked shut, listening faintly as his socked footsteps padded away from her bedroom. A second later, the soft creak of the floorboards in the hall told her he was far enough to respect her privacy. She exhaled slowly and turned toward the bathroom. Warm steam curled gently around the frame as she stepped inside. The tub was already filling, the water swirling with just enough heat to soothe without scalding. But what stopped her wasn’t the bath. It was the candles.

Three of them. Set along the edge of the sink and the corner of the tub, flickering softly. Matchbook she kept in the drawer absent. He’d lit them. So she wouldn’t have to use the bright overhead light. Her chest tightened. Just a little. She didn’t dwell on it. A few minutes later, she sank into the water, the warmth pulling a shaky sigh from her lips. It didn’t erase the ache in her bones, but it helped. The low flicker of candlelight danced across the tile. Johnny Storm. Lighting candles. Drawing baths. She smiled faintly to herself.

Ten minutes. That was all she could manage before the fatigue started tugging her under. She climbed out carefully, dried off, slipped into fresh clothes. Sweats, thick socks, and the hoodie she usually reserved for laundry days. It smelled like clean cotton and fabric softener. Damp but brushed hair soaking through the material, she padded down the stairs slowly, gripping the rail for balance.

Her apartment hummed. Soft record on the turnstyle, Elvis it sounded like, and the occasional soft clink of metal against ceramic. When she turned the corner into the kitchen, she saw him. Johnny was standing at the stove, stirring a pot of soup with focused intensity. He’d found one of her oversized mugs and had clearly decided it doubled as a bowl. He hadn’t noticed her yet.

She leaned against the doorway, watching him. This was... new. Unexpected. And honestly? Kind of nice. She couldn’t recall the last time someone had gone out of their way to take care of her. “Didn’t burn the place down, did you?” she rasped, voice still rough but lighter than before.

Johnny turned, surprise flickering across his face before it gave way to something softer. “There she is,” he said, voice low, dramatic in that way television hosts announced the mundane like it was breaking coverage. “Looking a little more alive.”

She moved slowly, cautiously, into the kitchen. Her legs were still shaky, but the bath had cleared some of the fog in her head. “I’d say it smells good, but I currently can’t smell much,” she murmured, eyeing the oversized mug he was ladling soup into.

“I didn’t screw it up, or go snooping while I waited,” Johnny said.

She slid into one of the kitchen chairs. The wood was cold, grounding. “Thank you,” she said simply.

He set the mug down in front of her, along with a spoon, then sat across from her, forearms resting on the table. For a moment, there was only the sound of the spoon clinking against ceramic as she stirred the soup, letting the steam warm her face. She felt the weight of his gaze but didn’t look up. “You didn’t have to stay,” she said eventually.

“I know,” he replied. “Didn’t really feel like leaving.”

She glanced up at him then. His hair was still tousled from the wind, his cheeks faintly pink from the cold. He looked almost out of place in her old kitchen, like a snapshot from someone else’s life. “You could’ve just dropped the stuff off,” she said.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “I don’t know. I just, wanted to be sure you were okay.”

She broke eye contact, focusing on the soup instead. “This is a lot of effort for someone who is simply your sister’s overglorified secretary.”

Johnny smiled faintly. “I stopped seeing you as just ‘Sue’s assistant.’ a long time ago.”

She went still at that. He didn’t push it. She took a slow sip of soup, Let it warm her from the inside out. He waited patiently, watching her without hovering. “This is good,” she said after a beat, voice low.

“Not much of a cook, but I’m good at heating things up,” he said. “It’s kind of my thing.” That got a small smile from her, the first real one since she sat down.

Johnny stood slowly, the chair legs scraping softly against the tile. For a second, she thought he might walk off, give her space again. But instead, he circled the table and lowered himself into the chair beside her. She turned slightly, eyes following him, uncertain. He didn’t speak, just reached out, his hand brushing lightly against her forehead. His palm was cool, fingers steady. She leaned into it without thinking.

Still too warm. His brow twitched. His touch moved gently, sliding from her forehead to the side of her face, then drifting into the damp strands of her hair. He paused there, fingers tangled loosely in it. “You’re soaked,” he murmured finally, barely above a whisper. “It’s going to keep you sick.”

Her breath caught, at the quiet concern in his voice, at how close he was now, at the way his fingers held more tenderness than she was used to. Before she could say anything, he pulled back slightly. Palm smooth over her head, and then: Warmth.

Not fever-warm, but something softer. A slow, radiating heat that started at the base of her skull and traveled through the heavy strands of her hair. She could feel it shift, lifting dampness, drying gently. It was careful, completely in control, and absent of the heat she knew him capable of. She closed her eyes. When it faded, her hair was dry. Still tousled and messy, sure, but no longer soaking through her sweater. No longer clinging to her skin.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. Johnny’s hand dropped, resting lightly on his thigh. He didn’t meet her gaze right away. His eyes were on the floor, like he hadn’t meant to do it. Like he wasn’t sure if he’d crossed a line. She didn’t say anything. Just reached for the spoon again, when she noticed his other hand resting near it. She brushed their fingers together intentionally. His head turned toward her at that. Her voice, when it came, was quiet. “Thanks.”

He only nodded. But he didn’t move away. “Our mom used to get on Sue about going to bed with wet hair,” he said quietly, his voice a little rough at the edges now. “She’d lecture her every time, like it was some cardinal sin.” A faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, even as exhaustion pressed behind her eyes. Johnny glanced at her again, then down at where her hand was still resting on his. “Sorry,” he said. “I should’ve asked first.”

She shook her head. “Johnny, it’s okay.” The name slipped out too easily, too naturally. Her eyes widened slightly at the sound of it. So did his.

“You called me Johnny,” he said, turning more fully toward her now.

“Yes,” she murmured, suddenly self-conscious, “but—”

“No ‘Mr. Storm.’ No ‘Jonathan.’ I admit, I kind of thought you’d take that to your grave.”

She gave a tired, almost embarrassed laugh. “Blame the fever.”

He didn’t smile this time, just looked at her a beat too long. “You don’t have to pretend with me right now. You don’t have to be professional. I sought you out, remember? After hours.”

Her fingers shifted slightly against his. “You’re my boss’s brother,” she said, though it came out thinner than she intended. The old lines she’d drawn between them felt faded now, like chalk in the rain.

“And you’re not at work,” Johnny replied, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it. “You’re sick, and alone, and I’m not here because anyone asked me to be. I’m here because I want to be.”

She looked down again. Not at their hands, but somewhere past them. “I don’t… let people see me like this,” she admitted.

“I noticed,” he said gently. That pulled her gaze back to him, an almost startled kind of glance. He held it. “I mean, you are practically apologizing every time you cough. Got those apologetic eyes,” he added, more lightly, but the warmth in his tone didn’t waver.

She let out a soft breath. Not quite a laugh, not quite a sigh. “I guess I thought if I stayed professional enough, you’d stop looking at me like I was…”

“What?” he asked.

“Like you are right now,” she whispered, too worn down to keep the words in.

Johnny’s brow furrowed slightly. “I don’t think I could stop looking at you like this if I tried.”

The words hung in the space between them. They were irritatingly sincere. Something about the way he said it made her throat tighten. Her chest rose and fell, slow and steady, like she was grounding herself. She didn’t respond. Couldn’t. The moment felt too fragile. Heavy with something she wasn’t sure she had the clarity to unpack just yet. Not tonight. Not like this, bleary-eyed and fever-warm, emotions unguarded and closer to the surface than they usually were.

But what struck her most was that he didn’t push. He didn’t follow it up with another line or ask her what she was thinking. He didn’t move closer or lean in. He just… gave her room to sit with it. And that, more than anything, made her exhale a quiet, breath of relief. Because the truth was, she didn’t trust herself right now. Not with her head foggy and her heart aching and all these new emotions rising like steam off hot pavement. She couldn’t tell yet if they were real or just fever-drunk fiction. And she needed space to know the difference.

“Alright,” he said, pushing his chair back with an exaggerated sigh. “Moving on before I say something less than charming and ruin the whole mood. If you’re done with that” he nodded to her soup, “I’ll take care of it while you go lay back down.”

She blinked. “I can—”

“Nope,” he cut in. “Your only job right now is not fainting on your way to the couch. I’ll handle the rest.” She watched him collect her mug and spoon with an ease that made the whole thing feel normal. Like he’d done this before. Like taking care of her wasn’t some burden or performance. He turned back, halfway to the sink. “Also, I put on something actually worth watching. What’s the point of being sick if you’re stuck with the news? You need something comforting.”

She narrowed her eyes faintly, wary. “Like what?”

“Like something you enjoy,” he said over his shoulder, rinsing out the mug and tossing the rest of the soup.

She wandered toward the television, feet dragging softly across the floor. She hardly watched anything these days, but her fingers moved on instinct, flipping to the one channel she remembered always airing the reruns that brought her a strange kind of comfort.

By the time he returned and dropped onto the couch beside her, she had already sunk into the cushions, blanket pulled around her shoulders, the black-and-white with intro music drifting through the room. He raised a brow, surprised. “The Twilight Zone?”

“What’s wrong with it?” she asked, glancing over.

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “I just wouldn’t have guessed you were a Serling girl.”

“It’s my favorite,” she said, voice low but sincere.

Johnny leaned in slightly, lowering his voice like he was sharing top-secret intel. “Can I let you in on a secret?” She arched a brow, waiting. “It’s my favorite too.”

A soft scoff escaped her lips before she gently shoved his shoulder, surprising even herself with the casual contact. “You are such a liar, Jonathan Storm.”

He grinned, relaxed and unbothered. “I’m not. You can ask Susie. I still make her watch them with me, though she claims I just like how dramatic the opening theme is.”

She gave him a sideways look. “That does sound like you.”

He turned back to the screen, his expression growing briefly more thoughtful. “I really like that one with the World War I pilot. Y’know, the guy who disappears through the cloud and ends up going back to save his comrade.”

Her eyes flicked over to him, a little surprised at the depth of the reference. “That’s a good one,” she murmured, tucking her legs up beneath her. “Kind of poetic, actually.”

She tried not to unpack the notions under his favorite episode. The idea he saved lives for a living, and he seemingly understood what standing one’s ground to save others meant. It was a sad thought. One day he may do the same to save his family or a civilian.

He smiled, oblivious to her internal thoughts, and said nothing else. For a moment, the show filled the room with that strange mix of eerie music and philosophical narration. The light flickered gently on both of their faces, shadows shifting as they sat in silence. Then Johnny glanced over at her and frowned. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, though her hands were balled beneath the blanket and her skin was noticeably pale.

“You’ve got chills,” he said, already sliding closer. “You should be under like, six blankets right now.”

“I’ve got one,” she pointed out, feebly. He didn’t say anything, just reached for the other end of the blanket she had half-draped over herself and scooted closer until he could pull it around both of them. She went rigid. “Johnny, don’t. I don’t want you to get sick.”

He gave a short, soft laugh. “Sweetheart, cosmically altered DNA makes it nearly impossible to get sick”

“But still—”

He turned slightly to face her, his expression gentler now. “Hey,” he said, voice low. “Let me take care of you.”

She looked at him for a long second. Her guard almost rose again, but didn’t. Maybe it was the fever. Maybe it was the warmth he gave off, literally and otherwise. Or maybe she was just too tired to keep pretending she didn’t want him close. So she nodded, and leaned, just slightly, into the space between them. And Johnny, in his own quiet way, shifted to make room. Pulled her in.

He was warm. But it wasn’t harsh. It was like curling up beside a sunlit window, steady and soft, and she couldn’t remember the last time anyone had held her without expecting something in return. Actually, the last time was the night he walked her home. She rested her head against his shoulder, her body finally beginning to settle, her muscles less tense, her breathing slower. “See?” he murmured, voice close to her ear.

She huffed out a faint laugh. “You’re very proud of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Unbelievably.”

The episode played on, but she barely registered it, her body finally relaxing into the pull of warmth and fatigue. Every now and then, she felt Johnny’s fingers shift where they rested along her arm, just light, absentminded motions.

“You really don’t do this much, do you?” he asked after a quiet minute. She didn’t answer right away. “Let people take care of you,” he clarified gently, as if afraid to spook her.

“I don’t really know how,” she admitted. “I got used to being the person who handles things. Who keeps the wheels turning.”

Johnny nodded, not teasing now, not performing. “I see that.”

“Being vulnerable,” she added, “it never felt safe. Even when it was.”

There was a beat of quiet between them. “You don’t owe anyone softness,” he said, voice low and even. “But you deserve to have it. When you want it.”

That made her blink. Not because it was overly sweet or romantic, but because it was… kind. Thoughtful. Honest. And completely unexpected coming from someone the world painted as a hotshot. “Thanks,” she said, and meant it.

“For what?”

“For being much more than I originally thought you were. You’re, well for a lack of better words, kind.”

Johnny chuckled at that, his hand brushing over her blanket-covered arm in a casual motion. “That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it,” she murmured, her voice already starting to drift with sleep.

“Noted.” Her head grew heavier on his shoulder, and Johnny didn’t move, just adjusted slightly to let her rest more comfortably, eyes flicking back toward the screen but not really watching. Outside, the city moved on. Cars in the distance, and the hum of nightlife. But in that little pocket of warmth and television static, she was finally still.

And Johnny, for once, was content to be quiet.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

She was back at work. Back to pressed collars and polite emails, back to the soft echo of her heels against the polished floors. Her desk was where she’d left it. The schedule just as full. Sue had barely let her finish “I’m fine, really” before sweeping her into two meetings and asking for three updates. It was easier, in a way: Slipping back into routine. No vulnerability required. No warmth, no weight, just structure and the quiet comfort of being needed.

And yet. Her fingers paused on the keyboard.Her mind drifted back to that night. To the TV flickering in her living room, the glow of black-and-white episodes washing over her walls. To Johnny’s arm around her, steady and warm. He hadn’t stayed. At some point, long after she’d fallen asleep, he’d moved her upstairs to bed. She hadn’t even stirred. Just woke the next morning under her own blankets, still flushed with the remains of fever and confusion, the TV off, a note on the counter in barely-legible handwriting:

Didn’t want to wake you. Get some rest, and I’ll check in later. — Your own personal Prince Charming aka Johnny Storm

She hadn’t told anyone. Not even Sue. Not because it was a secret, but because the words weren’t easy to find. Something had shifted, but she didn’t know what name to give it yet.

Not a romance, not exactly. But something more than familiarity. Something quiet. Unrushed. She rubbed her temple absently, eyes flicking to the digital clock on the bottom corner of her monitor. A little past three. The week had crawled and sprinted all at once, especially after returning on Tuesday. Her gaze drifted toward the tote bag tucked under her desk. She’d brought the book with her. The one Johnny had picked out.

John Clare had been a delightful surprise. There was something raw and untamed about his work, brilliant and aching in a way that clung to her long after she’d set the book down. He wasn’t polished like the other Romantics. His verses didn’t care for perfection. They bled loneliness and dirt and madness, and somehow, they still made her feel seen. Clare was a laborer, a man of the earth, not the universities. His longing was not performative, but primal. Honest. It had struck a chord she hadn’t expected.

She still had a day left before Saturday. What had started as a casual coincidence now felt like something... A rhythm. A tether to something outside her routines. It wasn’t grand, or loud, or public. But it was theirs. And she was looking forward to it. More than she wanted to admit. Not just for the books. Not even for the quiet comfort of thumbing through dusty spines in side-by-side silence.

But because she was genuinely eager to hear his thoughts on Verne. His take on the moral gray areas, the invention of impossible machines, the way he always seemed to latch onto the underdog character no one else noticed. She wanted to talk about what she’d read. Wanted to see the way his eyes lit up when he made a point, or how he interrupted himself when he got too excited. She wanted to know what he’d pick next for her. She wanted to sit next to him and—

God. Those eyes. That particular shade of crystalline blue that somehow still felt warm. The bashful smile he sometimes slipped into when he was proud of something and didn’t want to say so. The way it curved gently at the edge of his full lips like a secret.

She blinked hard, realizing she was staring at her monitor, her browser still open to a tab she hadn’t meant to click. With a quiet sigh, she closed it. Her fingers returned to the keyboard, but the page in front of her looked like static.

Focus? Long gone.

It was as if Johnny Storm — brash, ridiculous, too-handsome Johnny Storm — had shown up with that ridiculous navy blue backpack and cracked something open in her. Not with grand gestures. Not with fire and flair. But with soup. With gentle whispers into her damp hair. With the quiet, unexpected way he’d tucked her in and left without needing to be thanked.

And that was the part she couldn’t shake. Johnny Storm was kind. Truly. In a way people didn’t give him credit for. He was the type to pay attention when no one thought he was looking. The kind of person who remembered how you took your coffee. Who lit candles so the light wouldn’t hurt your eyes when you were sick.

He was careful with her. Considerate. Like she was something delicate and worth handling gently, not because she was fragile, but because she deserved the opportunity to be if she chose it. That’s what he said. Said she deserved the choice of being soft. And somehow, that made her head pound worse than any flu ever could.

The quiet hum of her thoughts was broken by the subtle ping of the pager clipped to her waistband.

SUE RICHARDS : OFFICE. ASAP.

She sighed, already pushing back her chair, straightening her blouse in the reflection of her black screen. Back to business. Back to the part of her life where everything made sense, where emotion had its place. Boxed and filed neatly beneath efficiency. But as she reached for the doorknob to close the door behind her, something stopped her. Soft yellow and crooked at the corner, a sticky note clung to the wood just above eye level. She stared for a beat before plucking it off.

"Hope your day is fantastic. See what I did there? Fantastic. Anyways, Johnny"

There was a tiny doodle of a winking face next to his name. Also a little doodle of their team's logo next to the word fantastic. Of course there was.

Her lips twitched. And then, despite every effort not to, she smiled. It was ridiculous. The handwriting was awful, and the joke barely qualified as a pun. But it was so very him. Playful, charming, and still, somehow, thoughtful. He hadn’t made it into a performance. Just a small note, as if to be respectful of her packed schedule with the lost days this week. Meant for her, and no one else. She pressed it flat between her fingers for a moment, then carefully tucked it into the side pocket of her planner before heading down the hall toward Sue’s office, still smiling.

Saturday needed to hurry up.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Saturday morning came quietly, sunlight sifting through gauzy curtains in pale ribbons. The kind of morning that felt like a breath held just a little longer than usual. She put on music while getting dressed. Something light and old. The kind of record that made the apartment feel like it belonged to a version of her she hadn’t let exist in a long time. Normally, Saturday meant comfort. Casual. Efficient. But today…Today, she hesitated over her wardrobe. No T-shirt. A sweater instead: soft blue and warm against her skin. A nicer pair of jeans. The nail lacquer she’d brushed on the night before had dried into a muted burgundy that made her feel quietly elegant. Her makeup was subtle, but thoughtful. Deliberate. She didn’t think too hard about the why. Not yet. Maybe for once, she didn’t need to analyze or compartmentalize what this was. Maybe she could just let it be. It wasn’t a confession or a declaration. It was a choice. To feel something. To want something. To allow herself to be soft.

A lightness threaded through her chest as she smoothed down the hem of her sweater. Something weightless and unfamiliar, like the feeling of stepping outside just before a storm breaks and realizing, for once, you don’t mind if it rained.

A knock at the door. Startled, she blinked and glanced at the clock. He wasn’t supposed to meet her at the shop for another thirty minutes. Curious, she jogged down the narrow staircase of her townhouse, feet against the old wood, and pulled open the front door, only to be met with…Wood. A solid wall of it.

She stepped back instinctively, eyes adjusting to the unexpected sight. It wasn’t a wall. It was furniture. A bookcase. A towering, beautifully worn, dark walnut bookshelf stood on her porch like some kind of offering from the gods of literature themselves. And behind it, peeking over the top, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning, was Johnny Storm. “Surprise!”

Her eyes widened. “What in the world—?”

“I know we said bookstore,” he said, edging the bookshelf forward with careful steps, “but I figured if I’m going to keep enabling your addiction, you need somewhere to put your hoard.”

“My collection,” she corrected, stunned, still standing in the open doorway.

“My mistake,” he said solemnly, stepping into full view. His hair was wind-tousled, cheeks flushed with cold and exertion, the sleeves of his henley pushed up to his elbows. He looked infuriatingly handsome. Like he’d just stepped out of an autumn-themed magazine spread. “I rescued it from a junk shop down in Brooklyn,” he added. “Had to sweet-talk the guy to part with it. Said it belonged to some ex-college professor who chain-smoked and read philosophy aloud to his cats.”

She blinked at him. Then at the bookcase. Then back at him. “You… dragged a whole bookcase to my house?”

“I carried it,” he corrected proudly, setting it down with a grunt just inside the threshold. “Didn’t trust a delivery service not to damage it. Plus, dramatic entrances are kind of my thing.”

She stared for another breath. Then, without fully meaning to, she laughed. Not a polite chuckle. Not a tight-lipped smile. But a genuine, bubbling laugh that warmed the air between them. Johnny’s grin softened at the edges as he looked at her. “I figured if we’re going to hang out in bookstores every Saturday, you need a place to keep the spoils.”

She shook her head, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’ve been called worse.” But he didn’t step back. Not yet. Just stood in her doorway like he belonged there, looking pleased with himself and, at the same time, strangely... hopeful. She rested a hand lightly on the edge of the bookshelf, fingers grazing the worn wood. It was beautiful. Not new. Not modern. But solid. Thoughtful. Like he’d really looked for something that would suit her, not just fill a space.

“I love it,” she said quietly. And she meant it.

“I saw it and immediately thought of you,” he admitted. She looked up at him then, brows faintly lifted. “Not in a weird way,” he added quickly, scratching the back of his neck, suddenly sheepish. “Just… it felt like something solid. Not some new modern thing that doesn’t fit the vibe of your place, but something that would last a couple generations.”

She nodded once, slow. “It’s perfect.”

He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at her. Eyes soft, the usual spark of mischief dimmed down to a low, steady glow. She was still in the sweater she’d picked carefully that morning, her hair half-tucked behind her ears, eyes brighter than they’d been in days.

“You feeling better?” he asked finally.

“Getting there,” she said.

“Good.” He leaned slightly against the bookshelf, arms crossing. “Because I was hoping maybe we could still do the bookstore. Unless you want to stay in. I can take down those poor shelves and set up this bad boy. Promise I’ll try not to set anything ablaze if I get frustrated.”

She laughed, “I think the bookstore’s still on the table,” she said, then glanced at the shelf again. “But maybe we move this first? I don’t want it sitting in the doorway all day, reminding the neighbors how weird I am.”

Johnny grinned. “You mean how classy and well-read you are?”

“I mean how I’ve let a man deliver furniture to my door like some Regency-era courtship ritual.”

He smirked. “If this is a courtship ritual, I’m definitely doing it wrong. I should’ve brought flowers.”

She stepped aside, opening the door wider. “Next time, maybe.”

He arched a brow. “So you’re saying there’ll be a next time?”

She gave him a mock-serious look. “Get the bookcase in the door first, Romeo.” With a dramatic sigh and an over-the-top bow, Johnny lifted the bookshelf again and carried it inside, the wood groaning slightly as he maneuvered it through the narrow entryway. She closed the door behind him, warmth curling at the edges of her stomach as she watched him start up the stairs without being told what to do.

Johnny Storm had been in her home before. Enough to feel comfortable navigating it on his own. Something that should’ve felt more disarming than it did. She followed behind him. He knocked her bedroom door ajar with his foot and stepped in, mindful of the pair of shoes she’d been planning to wear before he showed up unannounced. Glancing around her tidy room he smiled as he looked at her made bed. A grin tugged at his mouth. “Well, well. If it isn’t Mr. Bear. Survived the great fever of the century, huh?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the faint smile. “I thought we had a no-teasing agreement about Mr. Bear.”

“We did,” he said, already walking toward the corner where the old wall shelves sagged under the weight of her books. “But it was provisional, and frankly, I’m reconsidering the terms.”

She scoffed softly, leaning against the doorframe as he set the bookcase down with care. He was already sizing up the room, scanning for a suitable spot. “Do you happen to have much in the way of tools?”

Her nose wrinkled with a grimace. “Sparse would be generous. I have a sad little drill I found at a pawn shop in Harlem. Missing most of the bits. Pretty sure it gave its dying breath the last time I tried to hang a curtain rod.”

Johnny winced in playful sympathy. “Let me take a look. Maybe I can coax it back to life.”

She raised a brow. “Since when do you fix power tools?”

He glanced over at her, feigning offense. “I do have an engineering degree, you know. I wasn’t just invited to the Baxter Building for my charming smile or last name.”

Her lips twitched. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He grinned, that easy, spark-in-his-eyes grin. “I actually worked. Built things. Ran simulations. Helped Reed maintain the ship before everything went sideways. Just because I light on fire doesn’t mean I forgot my mechanics classes.”

She nodded, quiet again. Another layer. One more thing about him that didn’t come through in headlines or swaggering entrances. It wasn’t loud or performative, it was subtle. Quietly competent. Jonathan Storm was kind. He was loyal in a way that wrapped around the people he cared about without asking for anything in return. And, frustratingly, he was smart. Not just clever, but sharp. Capable.

It was borderline infuriating to watch him revive the half-dead drill with a few taps and a muttered, “Come on, don’t embarrass me now,” and then methodically take apart the sagging old shelves. He moved with a purpose, placing the new bookcase against the wall like he already knew exactly how she’d want it.

She’d meant to help. Maybe even offer to hold a side steady or hand him screws. But she’d ended up sitting there instead, caught in the tangle of her own thoughts, watching him work like he belonged there. And then he sat beside her on the edge of the bed, his warmth brushing against her skin. “Something wrong?” he asked, voice soft.

She hesitated, then let out a breath. “Just thinking.”

He nudged her knee gently with his own. “About...?”

“You.”

He turned his head to look at her fully. “What about me?”

She swallowed, gaze fixed somewhere near the floorboards. “I just… I was wrong about you. In so many ways.”

There was a pause.“How so?” he asked quietly.

She exhaled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before meeting his eyes. “You told me you liked that I didn’t have this idea of you in my head. And maybe it looked that way from the outside. But Sue warned me before I ever took this job what I’d be dealing with. And I don’t live under a rock, Johnny. Your face is everywhere: News outlets, gossip blogs, billboards. You’re a public figure, and people talk.”

He didn’t flinch, just listened. “I didn’t want to make assumptions. But... It's human nature, isn’t it? You take what you’ve seen, what people tell you, and whether you mean to or not, you start to build a version of someone in your head.”

She laughed softly, almost bitterly, and looked away. “But then you showed up. You took care of me when I had no one else around. You noticed I didn’t have a bookcase and carried one across the city for me like it was nothing. You’ve been thoughtful. Selfless. And every time you do something like that, it makes me feel guilty. For getting you so incredibly wrong.”

He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was low but steady.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being careful,” he said. “And yeah... people do look for patterns in others. We make snap judgments to protect ourselves. I’ve done it, too.”

He shifted, glancing down at his hands before meeting her gaze again. “But when I said I liked that you didn’t have an idea of me in your head, I meant that you didn’t treat me like I was just the Human Torch. You didn’t flirt, or flatter, or try to get something out of me.”

She blinked, surprised. “I had a wall up.”

He smiled faintly. “Exactly. It was all business. No games. And for some reason… that was comforting. Honest. You didn’t pretend to like me.”

“I didn’t know you.”

“And now you do?”

A beat. Her voice dropped. “I’m starting to.”

Johnny’s expression softened, but he didn’t push. He sat with it for a moment, then gave a half-smile. “Well… I guess it’s my job now to keep getting to know you without screwing it up somehow, huh?”

She didn’t respond. Her eyes drifted to the bookcase again. The dark wood, worn at the edges, like it had lived another life before finding its way to her room. “Why me?” she asked quietly.

He blinked. “What do you mean? I feel like I just—”

“No, not really,” she cut in gently. “You’ve said pieces. But I still can’t quite wrap my head around it. You could be anywhere. With anyone. And somehow, you’ve ended up… here. Sitting on my bed. Moving furniture. Talking like this. With your sister’s assistant.” He opened his mouth, but she kept going, voice tightening just a bit. “And before you say it, yes, I am Sue’s assistant. That’s how you know me. That’s the reason we’ve spoken at all. But why go past that? Why become… familiar? Why keep showing up?”

Her eyes met his, searching for something. Johnny sat forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He didn’t answer right away. “When I first met you,” he said slowly, “you treated me like I was just another guy getting in the way of your schedule. You barely looked at me. You were busy. Focused. Unimpressed.”

She tilted her head, arms crossed, but her expression had softened.

“And yeah, maybe I thought it was funny,” he admitted. “The Human Torch getting iced out by someone who literally booked my schedule the day before. But it didn’t feel like a joke. It felt… refreshing.”

His gaze found hers, steadier now. “You weren’t trying to be liked. You weren’t interested in some version of me that other people expect. You were honest. Blunt. Professional to a fault, honestly. And then, little by little, I started noticing things.”

“Like?”

He smiled faintly. “Like how you hum when you’re trying to multitask. Or how you pretend you don’t care about your desk plants dying but secretly bring in new ones every time. Or how you never ask for help, even when you obviously need it.” Her brows lifted, surprised. “I noticed, because I started caring. And I didn’t mean to, not at first. But the more I paid attention, the more I realized you were someone who listens more than she speaks. Someone who takes care of everyone else and doesn’t let anyone take care of her.”

He paused. “And I guess I just wanted to show up. Because not many people do, for you. And you sure as hell won’t ask. I can’t wrap my mind around someone who’s so selfless, so good to Suzie and Franklin, scheduling down time for Reed so he’ll take it, or can make Ben smile, being all alone in this city.”

The room was quiet again. Still. Then, her voice came, softer than before. “You make it hard not to care back, you know.” Johnny’s eyes flicked up, a little stunned by the honesty in her tone. She gave a quiet, almost embarrassed laugh, shaking her head. “I don’t even know when it changed. One minute you were just this... constant distraction. Loud, dramatic, always two steps from setting something on fire—”

“Three steps,” he said automatically, lips quirking.

She shot him a look, but didn’t lose her thread. “And then it just… shifted. Somewhere along the line, I started looking forward to seeing you come around. You brought me coffee and I started enjoying your nonsense. The teasing. Even the interruptions.” She glanced down at her hands, picking at her sleeve absently. She looked up again, meeting his eyes. “I guess I realized I liked you a lot more than I thought. That I liked having you around. More than I wanted to admit.”

Johnny blinked, then gave a quiet smile. But there was something softer behind it now. Something grateful. Like hearing it from her was something he'd wanted, but hadn’t expected. “Do you have any idea,” he murmured, “how rare it is for me to feel... understood? At least by people who aren’t family. It’s easier to be that version of myself so people don’t go digging.”

She shrugged a little. “You’re not that hard to understand, Johnny. You want to be taken seriously. You want to be more than what people out there know you for. And you are. You’re so much more.”

The space between them had shrunk without either of them noticing. They weren’t touching, not yet, but the distance was gone. It was just them now, the air thick with everything they hadn’t said until now. He reached out, not to grab her hand, but to rest his fingers near hers. “You don’t have to decide anything today,” he said quietly. “But if you ever wonder why it’s you, it’s because I feel more like myself around you than I do anywhere else.”

Her hand turned slightly, brushing against his. “I already decided,” she said. That made him still. “I don’t know what it means yet,” she added, voice barely audible, “but I decided the day you brought soup and took care of me.”

He grinned wide and disbelieving. “That was your moment?”

She gave a soft, shy smile. “Yeah. That was it.”

A beat. “Can I kiss you now, or would that ruin everything?”

She didn’t speak right away. But her smile deepened just a little. Her eyes met his, steady and warm. “It wouldn’t ruin anything,” she said.

And that was all it took. Johnny leaned in. Not rushed, not cocky, not the flirty bravado he used to wear like armor, but careful, like he knew exactly what this moment meant. His hand hovered at her cheek, giving her the space to stop him if she wanted to. But she didn’t. When their lips met, it wasn’t fireworks or sparks, it was something softer. The kind of kiss that didn’t feel like a beginning or an ending, but like something already known.

She felt him exhale through his nose, slow and steady, like even he couldn’t believe it was finally happening. His hand brushed her jaw, thumb resting lightly at her cheekbone as he pulled back only slightly, their foreheads touching now. “You taste like coffee,” he murmured.

She laughed under her breath. “You taste like smug satisfaction.”

He grinned, eyes still closed. “Can’t help it. Been wanting to do that since the day you sternly called me Mr. Storm like some old librarian."

“That was literally the first thing I ever said to you.”

“Exactly.”

She shook her head, forehead still pressed to his. “This is probably a terrible idea.”

He opened his eyes, just barely. “Yeah. Probably.” And then she kissed him again, because if this was a bad idea, it was already too late.

A few minutes later, they’d migrated back to the pillows, not in a rush of passion, but a slow sprawl of limbs and conversation. The bookcase stood quietly against the far wall, half-filled with the books Johnny had started placing before everything spiraled into confessions and kisses. She lay on her side, head resting in her palm as she watched him stretch out beside her, one arm slung over his stomach.

“Does Sue know you’re here?” she asked, teasing.

Johnny snorted. “She knows I’m with you. Doesn’t know exactly what’s going on, beyond a shared appreciation for literature, but she’s definitely suspicious.”

“She’s not wrong.”

“She is usually right,” he said with a grin.

Her fingers drifted lazily across the edge of his sleeve, brushing the fabric like she was trying to memorize the feel of it. “Hey Johnny… This... whatever this is between us, it doesn’t have to be some big, dramatic thing.”

He turned to her, the grin fading into something quieter. “No. It doesn’t. But it’s something. And I’m not going to pretend it’s not.”

She nodded once. “Good. Because I’m done pretending, too.”

There was a stillness after that. Not awkward, but content. Comfortable. Then Johnny tilted his head, a slow smirk playing at his mouth. “So... will you let me take you out sometime? Go steady, as the youths say these days?”

She rolled her eyes and nudged his shoulder. “Please don’t say ‘go steady.’”

He caught her hand before it fell away, bringing it to his lips in a way that felt effortless. Familiar. “That’s not a no,” he murmured.

She smiled, soft and certain. “It’s a yes. I’d love to let you take me out.”

“Perfect.” He glanced around the room, then back at her with a mischievous glint. “Can we still go to the bookstore?”

She let out a laugh, surprised by how easy it was to imagine. The two of them wandering between shelves, arguing over paperbacks, drinking coffee. They’d done it already but now instead of tiptoeing around one another, they’d be pretending they weren’t quietly obsessed with each other. Pressing kissing in quiet corners of the store when no one was looking…

“Yes, Johnny. We can still do the bookstore.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

One month later…

If someone had asked her back when they first met, she never would’ve paired the word gentleman with Johnny Storm. Not in a million years.

New York’s most famously charming rake? Absolutely. A flirt with a face made for magazine covers and a reputation to match? That checked out. Maybe, at some point, he had lived up to that image. She wasn’t there for all of it. Maybe he was that guy once.

But not now. Not with her.

Not since that quiet Saturday with shared kisses in her bedroom, hands brushing in the bookstore, smiles traded like secrets. Since then, Johnny had been something else entirely.

Yes, he was still unmistakably Johnny, goofy when he thought he could get away with it, always ready with a smart remark and a ridiculous grin, but there was a kind of intention behind everything now. His coat slung over her shoulders without her asking, just because the air turned sharp in the evening. Kisses that rarely wandered beyond knuckles or the curve of her cheek in public, like he wanted to keep something about it just theirs. Doors held open. Seats pulled out. And the truly indecent comments? They were now whispered low and slow, right against her ear, where only she could hear them and usually accompanied by a devilish smile that made her want to roll her eyes and kiss him all at once.

It was strange, really. She hadn’t expected this version of him. But maybe what surprised her more was how much she liked it. How much she liked him.

Not the version plastered across gossip columns or paparazzi photos, shirt half-unbuttoned, sunglasses at night, the so-called hotshot of the Fantastic Four. But this version. The one who sent her pager “I’m proud of you” after a long day she hadn’t even mentioned was weary. The one who was slowly making his way through all her books, writing notes in the margins, just so she could read them later. The one who showed up to the office unprompted with a coffee in each hand and no real reason to be there other than the fact that he wanted to be.

It scared her sometimes, how easily he slipped into her life like he belonged there. And it surprised her even more how little resistance she’d put up when he did. Sue had taken the news with an almost alarming amount of grace. No lectures, no big-sister glares, no stern “don’t-hurt-her” speeches from the kitchen table. Just a knowing smile.

“She’s good for you,” she’d told Johnny one morning over breakfast. He’d tried to play it cool, said something like, ‘Don’t start planning the wedding just yet, Suzie,’ but she could tell how much it meant to him.

And later, Sue had pulled her aside and said, “He’s steadier with you around. Not dull. Just… softer.”

That had stayed with her. Softer. Because that’s how he made her feel, too. He didn’t dim things down. He didn’t take up all the space in the room. He just fit into it, into her world, like he’d always been there, waiting for her to notice. And now, a month in, it still didn’t feel loud or chaotic or fast. It just felt real.

With the territory of being his girl came a quiet shift in her world. A soft deviation from the life she’d been living, subtle at first, then all at once. What used to be long nights at the office, microwaved leftovers eaten in silence, and waking up to do it all over again had become something warmer. Cozier. Messier, in the best possible way.

Now there were dinners at the Baxter Building, where laughter bounced off the high-tech walls and a giggling toddler often ended up curled in her lap, sticky-fingered and beaming. There were double dates with Ben and his sweet-natured schoolteacher girlfriend, Rachel, who always brought homemade dessert and insisted they share it, no matter how full they were. There were evenings where Johnny roped her into ridiculous experiments with H.E.R.B.I.E., and she caught herself scratching the robot's “head” without thinking, just like Johnny always did.

She started keeping an extra box of that absurdly sugary marshmallow cereal in her pantry, because Johnny was prone to munching throughout the evening even after he swore he was full. Somehow, a drawer in her dresser had emptied itself without her even meaning to, only to slowly fill with worn t-shirts that smelled like smoke and soap and him. A second toothbrush had appeared in her bathroom. He didn’t even mention it, just left it there like it belonged. Hair gel. Cologne. A familiar hoodie draped over the back of her couch. Socks in the laundry she hadn’t bought. These weren’t big declarations. They weren’t moving boxes or dramatic speeches.

They were small signs that he wasn’t just passing through. That somehow, somewhere between the bookstore and those soft, sleepy mornings in her bed, Johnny Storm had started taking up space in her life. Not loudly. Not recklessly. Just… genuinely. And the wildest part? She liked it. All of it.

Even the cereal.

She hadn’t really noticed when it happened. There was no hard line or sudden declaration. No “so… are we dating now?” moment whispered over takeout. It was gradual. Now she saw him more days than she didn’t. He had a key, though neither of them had ever said the words “here, take this.” It had just appeared on his keyring one day, nestled between the fob to the garage at the Baxter Building and a tiny glow-in-the-dark Saturn “Franklin” had given him. He slept over. She stayed at his. There were goodnight chats that turned into “I’m already outside” calls. Sunday mornings with his head buried in her pillow and one arm curled around her waist like he didn’t intend to let go.

But. Despite the closeness. Despite the sleepy mornings and stolen glances and passionate kisses that left her breathless, nothing had happened in that arena. They’d slept in the same bed more times than she could count. Curled together beneath blankets, his body warm and familiar beside hers. She’d felt the tension. She knew he had too. The way his breath would catch sometimes, the way his hands would still on her waist, gripping like he was afraid to want more. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want her. That much was clear in the way he kissed her when no one else was around. Deep, slow, full of heat and intent, like he was memorizing every inch of her mouth.

But Johnny always stopped short. Sometimes with a soft groan into her neck, sometimes with a sheepish laugh, sometimes with nothing more than a lingering touch and a whispered, “Not tonight.” At first, she’d wondered if it was nerves. If he was afraid to push. Then she thought maybe it was a phase, a slow burn he wanted to savor.

But as the weeks passed and the boundaries held, close but never quite crossing, she started to realize something else. He was waiting. Not out of fear or disinterest, but… respect. Control. Maybe even intention. For a man so famously impulsive, Johnny had been anything but with her. There was restraint in the way he handled her. Not cold. Not distant. But reverent. As if what they were building was fragile in the best kind of way.

And she couldn’t lie. It made her fall even harder. He could’ve had anyone. That was never the question. But he’d chosen to go slow. With her. To let this unfold without pressure or expectation. To give her time, or maybe give them time, for whatever it was they were growing into. And the way he looked at her when she caught him watching, full of something she couldn’t quite name yet but felt like the beginnings of forever, made her wonder if, somehow, he already knew what they were becoming. Maybe he was just waiting for her to catch up.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t increasingly growing a bit… frustrating in a physical sense. Because for all of Johnny’s patience, his gentlemanly restraint, his whispered goodnights and feather-light touches, there were moments when she found herself staring at the ceiling in the dark, aching. The way his hands fit around her waist, the way his mouth moved against hers when he stopped holding back just long enough to make her dizzy, it was maddening. A kind of slow, controlled burn that curled low in her spine and settled in her chest, tightening every time he pulled away with a kiss to her shoulder and a barely-there “Goodnight.”

She wasn’t inexperienced. She knew what it meant to want someone. But this wasn’t simple want, it was suspended tension. It was nights where his breath would stutter against her skin and he’d press his forehead to hers like he was grounding himself. It was those long pauses in between kisses when her hands found the hem of his shirt and he caught her wrists, kissing her palms instead.

She wasn’t sure if it was nobility or torture. And it wasn’t like she didn’t want more. She did. God, she did. There were times when she nearly said it aloud, nearly asked him why they were still dancing around the line. But the truth was… some part of her liked that he didn’t expect it. That he hadn’t made a move even when she had, in not-so-subtle ways, invited him to.

He didn’t push. Didn’t ask. Didn’t turn her desire into an obligation. It felt… safe. Unusual, in the best way. But she couldn’t deny how much it meant. That, for once, someone wanted her, not just her body. That he could spend the night tangled up beside her and still walk away in the morning with nothing more than a sleepy smile and a joke about the way she hogged the blankets.

And yet, underneath all that comfort and affection, there was this hum of anticipation. An unspoken current that ran just below the surface. She felt it in the way his hands lingered on her back a little longer each time. The way his voice dipped when he said her name. The way he looked at her like he was imagining all the things he wasn’t doing. And it made her wonder. How long could they keep this up? Because love was growing. So was want. And somewhere between soft restraint and quiet intimacy, she knew they were on a path.

That didn’t make the waiting any easier. Especially not when she seemed to be the one feeling it most. That quiet ache followed her even when Johnny wasn’t around. It snuck in during the quiet moments: brushing her teeth at night, folding his hoodie he’d left behind again, slipping into bed alone and finding his scent still clinging to the pillow beside hers. She hated how often she caught herself imagining him there, not just beside her, but with her. Close. Pressed against her in the dark, mouth warm and purposeful, his voice gone hoarse from saying her name.

She’d never needed someone before, not like this. Not in that bone-deep, restless way where just the thought of him adjusting his sleeves or raking a hand through his hair made her chest feel too tight. Worse still, it crept into her daydreams. Mid-meeting thoughts where she’d suddenly imagine his mouth on her neck, or what it might feel like to wake up to more than just his arm slung across her waist. She’d snap out of it, cheeks warm, flustered by fantasies that came entirely uninvited.

He’d ruined her. And he didn’t even know it. Or maybe… maybe he did. Maybe that was the point. Maybe he was waiting, not because he didn’t feel it too, but because he wanted her to be the one to say it first. To ask. To choose. And part of her hated how much she wanted to. But the other part? The other part was already starting to plan what she might say the next time they were tangled up in each other’s arms, all breathless laughter and too-close proximity. The next time his lips paused just beneath her ear, and his voice dipped low enough to make her stomach twist.

The next time it would be her who didn’t allow them to stop.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The office lights had long since dimmed to half-power, casting a quiet glow across the Building's upper floor. Most of the staff had gone home hours ago, but her desk was still a pool of light and blue screens, surrounded by open folders, highlighted notes, and a half-empty coffee cup gone cold. Sue had tried to coax her out earlier: twice, actually. Once with gentle persuasion, and again with a sharper edge when persuasion didn’t work.

"You’re going to burn yourself out," Sue had warned, arms crossed in the doorway. "It’s just a press conference."

"It’s not just a press conference," she’d countered, fingers flying over her keyboard. "It’s the first time we’ve invited press into the building since the Latveria incident. If this doesn’t go smoothly, Reed’s going to spiral, and the board’s going to blame you, and you know it."

Sue had sighed, muttered something about overachievers, and finally left her to it. Now, the halls were quiet. The only sound was the soft clack of her keys and the occasional hum of the cooling vents. She didn’t even notice the elevator chime at first, or the soft, familiar footsteps that followed. Johnny leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, a lazy smile tugging at his mouth. His hair was a little windblown, probably from flying, and he had that infuriatingly relaxed aura about him, like showing up uninvited at 11 p.m. was perfectly normal. “You know,” he drawled, “most people go home when the sun goes down.”

She didn’t look up from her screen. “Most people don’t have to prep four departments and write a twenty-minute speech for a room full of skeptical reporters tomorrow.”

“Mm.” He stepped inside, slow and deliberate. “Well, most people also don’t look this good in computer lighting, so you’ve already got a head start.”

“Johnny.”

“Just saying.” He moved behind her chair and leaned down, arms bracing either side of the desk, voice dipping near her ear. “Come home.”

She tensed, eyes still locked on the screen, though her fingers had paused on the keys. “I can’t,” she said quietly. “Not yet. It’s got to be perfect.”

“It’s already perfect.” His nose brushed lightly against her hairline, his breath warm as he spoke. “You know how I know that? Because you wrote it.”

Despite herself, she smiled faintly, gaze still fixed ahead. “Flattery doesn’t change anything.”

“No,” he agreed, lips brushing her temple, “but maybe a little light kidnapping would.”

She let out a soft laugh, finally turning toward him. He stood over her, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off him, but he didn’t touch her beyond the way his hand rested casually on the back of her chair. “Johnny, I’m serious.”

“So am I,” he said, quieter now, eyes locked on hers.

And there it was again, that shift. The playful spark hadn’t gone anywhere, but something heavier sat just beneath it. That restraint. That way he looked at her like he wanted more, but was holding himself back from asking.

She swallowed. “You always do this.”

“Do what?”

“Get close. And then stop. Like we’re both standing at the edge of something and you keep waiting for me to jump first.”

He didn’t deny it. Just watched her. “You said you wanted slow,” he said softly.

“I said I wanted real,” she replied. “And this, us, it is. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel things. That I don’t want more than just—” She stopped herself. Heat bloomed in her chest and her face.

Johnny’s brow creased. “You think I don’t feel that too?”

“You never let it show. You always stop.”

He exhaled, hand dragging through his hair as he leaned back slightly. “Because if I don’t stop… I don’t think I’ll be able to.” Her heart stuttered. He stepped closer, slower now, until she had to tilt her head to meet his gaze. His thumb brushed against her jaw, his voice barely above a whisper. “I want everything with you. But I didn’t want you to think that’s all I wanted.”

She didn’t speak. Couldn’t. Because that was it, wasn’t it? The thing she couldn’t name. The thing that made her both ache and hesitate. He hadn’t been holding back because he didn’t feel it. He’d been holding back because he did. She stood slowly, rising from the chair so they were eye to eye. “You’re not just some guy I’m passing time with,” she said quietly. “I’m not here for casual.”

He reached for her then, not pulling her in, just… grounding her. Fingers grazing her waist. “Neither am I.” The air between them shifted: Warmer, denser, laced with something neither of them could ignore much longer. This time, when she leaned in to kiss him, he didn’t pull away.

His mouth met hers like it always did, a familiar rhythm, but something had shifted. There was more behind it now. More intention. More heat. The kind that curled low in her belly and made her press in closer without thinking. His hands found her hips, steady, warm, fingers flexing but he didn’t pull away.

It wasn’t frantic or messy. It was deep. That kind of kiss that quieted everything around them and filled the room with nothing but breath and skin and want. Her fingers curled in the collar of his shirt, and for once, he didn’t stop her. Didn’t deflect with a joke or pull back with a whispered “Not tonight.”

His lips just moved with hers, hungrier now. More certain. Then, just as she started to slip her hands beneath the hem of his shirt, he froze. Not pulled away. Just… paused. She felt it immediately. That subtle change in pressure. That catch of breath. That moment when his self-control kicked back in, like a hand on the brake.

“Wait—” he said, his forehead resting against hers now, his voice low and strained. “Are we really about to do this in the office?”

She blinked, lips swollen and breathless. The glowing screens cast long shadows along the walls. It wasn’t romantic. Wasn’t planned. But somehow, none of that mattered. “No one’s here,” she whispered, touching his cheek. “It’s almost midnight. Everyone’s gone.”

His hands still rested at her waist, but he wasn’t moving. Not yet. “I just—” he exhaled, eyes closed. “I don’t want this to feel like something it’s not. You deserve… more than some desk and low lighting.”

Her voice was soft but firm. “I’m tired of waiting, Johnny.” He opened his eyes, searching hers. She continued, quieter now. “Do you really think it’s going to mean less because it’s here? Do you think I’ll look back and regret it? Because I won’t. It’s not the location that matters.” Her fingers slid into his hair, tugging gently. “It’s you. Being with you is the part that matters.”

Something in him broke loose at that. The last of his hesitation slipped through his fingers like water, and when he kissed her again, there was no more holding back. No more careful restraint. Just months of slow-burning tension finally unraveling. And it didn’t matter that it wasn’t a bed with candles or soft music. It didn’t matter that the desk was cluttered or that she still had her heels on.

In fact, the heels were helpful.

Johnny wasn’t absurdly tall, but he had enough height on her that the added inches made things smoother, more aligned, as they stumbled in tandem, laughter and heat tangled between them. The edge of the desk bumped the backs of her thighs, and with one sweeping motion, papers went flying to the floor, coffee tipping sideways in a startled arc. Johnny barely broke rhythm. With one hand still bracing her waist, he flicked his other toward the spill, steam hissed as the liquid vanished in an instant, evaporated before it could touch a single document.

And then she was on the desk, perched firmly as he stepped between her knees. “God, I love these little skirts,” he murmured against her skin, the words half-laugh, half-groan as his lips traced down the curve of her neck. “You have no idea.”

She did, in fact, have some idea, judging by the reverent way his hands slid along her thighs, fingertips pressing in like he was discovering her body for the first time. His mouth dipped to the hollow of her throat, and he nipped there, just enough to make her breath hitch, leaving heat pooling under her skin.

Her hands moved with growing urgency, untucking his shirt with practiced ease as his own fingers toyed at the waistband of her skirt. That same slow-burning control was there in every movement, but this time there was no pulling back. No hesitation. Just the rising intensity of months of reined-in desire finally breaking surface. “You're still—” she tried to say, voice catching as he dragged his lips along her collarbone, “—obnoxiously overdressed.”

He laughed again, husky and breathless, forehead pressing to hers for a second. “You started it. And I could say the same to you,”

“Johnny.”

“Okay, okay.”

But there was no teasing now, not really. His grin softened as he looked down at her, hands stilling just long enough to give her one more chance. One last out. She leaned forward instead, brushing her mouth against his, slower now. More certain. “I want this,” she whispered. “I want you.”

He answered her without words. Just action: swift, sure, and full of intent. He leaned back, fingers gripping the hem of his shirt before tugging it over his head in one fluid motion. The fabric landed in her desk chair without a second thought. Then he was back, sliding between her knees again like he belonged there.

His hands found the edge of her blouse, tugging it free from where it was tucked neatly into her skirt. The buttons gave beneath his fingers one by one, slow at first, then with a quiet urgency, like he’d been holding back for too long and couldn’t stand the wait anymore. “You always look so put-together,” he murmured, eyes flicking up to meet hers as he worked the last button. “Drives me crazy.”

His palms pushed the material off her shoulders, leaving the fabric of her bra as the only thing covering her from the waist up. Low lighting, darker now that the computer had kicked into reserve power, he still glanced at her longingly. Blue eyes tracing the exposure without hesitation. Her breath hitched, goosebumps racing along her skin as his palms slid over her sides, memorizing her shape like he needed it etched into memory. He smiled against the skin of her shoulder, pressing a kiss there. “You ruin me. You know that, right?”

She pulled him back to her by the waistband of his jeans, kissing him hard enough to answer. Her fingers fumbled with the latch of his infamously tight chinos, cursing under her breath as the fabric refused to budge. The effort alone made her laugh, a soft burst of amusement she couldn’t hold in. Johnny leaned back with a mock-offended look, a smirk already tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Not exactly a confidence boost when your girl starts laughing mid-strip.”

She rolled her eyes, still grinning. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m laughing at these pants. They’re a crime against movement.”

He arched an eyebrow and wiggled them for good measure. “They’re flame-retardant. Functional and fashionable.”

“They’re a straightjacket for your legs,” she muttered, tugging again, this time with both hands. “Seriously, how do you even get into these things without a shoehorn and divine intervention?”

Johnny laughed, the sound low and warm in his chest. “What can I say? I make insanity look sexy.” With one final tug, the pants finally gave in, sliding down over his hips in defeat. She leaned back, victorious, breathless from the effort, and maybe a little from the view.

He stood there with all the smugness of a man who knew he looked good half-undressed, his hands resting casually on his hips. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

She shot him a look. “I’d argue that it is quite hard…”

His voice dropped an octave, softer now but still edged with mischief. “They always say it’s the quiet ones you gotta watch out for,” He stepped closer, heat radiating off him, literally. A faint warmth always clung to his skin, like the sun had taken a special liking to him and never quite let go. His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek, slow and deliberate. “I wear them because I always hope you’ll end up taking them off.”

She looked around at the dark office, her shirt and his tossed to the side, now his pants removed. Only her bra on her top half but completely dressed from the waist down from where she sat perched on her desk: nylon, skirt, undergarments, heels. Johnny seemed to notice this fact as well as his fingers traced the outside of her thighs and his eyes darkened. “Speaking of taking things off…” he gestured to her tights.

She only had it in her to nod, allowing his large hands to work their way under her skirt. Scooting to the edge of the desk to make it easier she lifted herself for a moment as he tugged them from her waist, leaving her skirt bunched up as he then pulled them down the length of her legs. Kitten heels knocked off, tights gone, but skirt still remaining, she looked at him expectantly.

"You know," Johnny murmured, his voice thick with amusement, "I won’t lie, this is some view. Not at all like the fantasy I had the first time I stepped into your office…” came sarcasm dribbling into his tone. He chuckled against her skin, lips brushing the curve of her neck as he leaned in. The warmth of his breath sent a ripple down her spine. One of his hands slid upward, finding the pin tucked into her hair. With a gentle tug, the twist unraveled, and her hair tumbled free across her shoulders, soft waves catching the dim light like silk. Johnny pulled back just enough to take her in, one brow lifted. “Hmm… that’s an improvement.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding the flush that bloomed across her chest and up her neck. “Do you say that to all the women you undress on desks?”

“Only the ones who make power skirts look sexier than lingerie.” His hands were already at her waist again, thumbs brushing over the exposed edge of her skin, just above the waistband of her skirt.

She laughed, but it faltered slightly when he leaned in again, lips ghosting over her collarbone, slow and deliberate. Every brush of contact was heat and patience and promise. “You always flirt this much when you’re half-naked in someone else’s workplace?” she managed, fingers threading into his hair.

His grin was pure trouble. “Only when I’m with my girl. What can I say? She brings out a side of me…” Then his hands slid lower, anchoring at the backs of her thighs as he pulled her closer to the edge of the desk, their bodies aligned, breath mingling. For a heartbeat, the teasing stilled. “I don’t think I can look at this office the same again,” he murmured, voice soft now, more confession than joke.

She gave him a slow smile, her forehead nearly touching his. “Yeah me either”

“Mind if I try something?” he asked, voice uncertain for the first crack in his bravado since this had escalated. She nodded, and he brought his hands to her waist, tugging her until she stood in front of him. He knelt, reaching back up her pencil skirt until he found her panties, eyebrow raised for permission as she nodded, holding his shoulder lightly for balance. He tugged them free, tossing them on top of the growing pile of clothes and standing once more.

Gently, he turned her to face the desk, the warmth of his hands a steady guide. She heard the soft rustle of fabric behind them, and when she glanced down, she saw his briefs pooled around their feet: quiet evidence of just how far they'd already gone. Fingers, deft and unhurried, brushed her hair to one side, exposing the line of her neck. His mouth followed, lips grazing her skin before he caught her earlobe between his teeth, just enough to make her inhale sharply. “I’ve gotta say,” he murmured, voice husky with laughter, “the skirt staying on? Kind of doing it for me…”

She smiled, lips parting around a breath. “Yeah?”

“Oh, definitely.” He tugged her back against him, the length of his body fitting to hers. “Just picture it. You laid out across your desk…” As he spoke, his hands slid over her waist, guiding her down with gentle pressure. Her stomach met the cool surface of the desk, the contrast sending a ripple up her spine. She turned her head to the side, hair spilling like a curtain as she felt his palms move over the bare skin just above her hips. “God,” he whispered, almost to himself, fingers tracing the line where her skirt ended. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

His touch never rushed. Each pass of his hands over her body was like a promise, one he fully intended to keep. Her eyes drifted down from his face to see all of him. Exposed, standing behind her. His manhood stood at attention, already flushed and solid. A bit larger than she’d honestly have expected. Either way, the anticipation and long month of having it restrained behind his sweatpants and pulsing on her backside as he slept made her desperate to finally experience it all. Widening her stance she looked at him with a nod, hands seeking the edge of the desk to brace herself.

“Yeah much better than just a fantasy,” he muttered, stepping closer. She felt him tug her waist up as much as possible, fingers darting down to see how far along she’d gotten. His fingertips, glistening with arousal when he pulled away.

Johnny didn’t ask as he lined himself up, bunching the skirt around her waist in the process. He didn't ask permission as he pushed his way inside either, grunt filling her office as he bottomed out relatively easily. He did, however, pause and ask permission before moving. “Wow, that’s, are you—”

“Please move,” she whined, hands braced on the desk as she glanced over her shoulder at him.

“Yes Ma’am,” and that’s all it took. From one bashful, always stopping advances man, to fucking her right and raw against the desk. The wood groaning, the smacking of skin filling her silent office. After all that time waiting, heavenly.

“Oh, Johnny,” she gasped, the sound escaping her like breath she’d been holding for far too long. Every thrust was a sweet, relentless ache. Stretching, filling, claiming. He moved with purpose, no hesitation, only the kind of need born from restraint finally shattered.

“Yeah…” he breathed out, the word barely more than a hiss, forehead dropping to rest against her shoulder. His breath was hot against her skin, uneven and desperate, syncing with the rhythm of his hips as he drove into her.

The desk beneath her creaked with every movement, sharp staccato echoes of skin meeting skin reverberating through the quiet office. What she'd once imagined might be slow and tender like the nights they’d shared in secret, had unraveled into something far more primal. And God, it was perfect. All those nights of looking. Waiting. Wanting. They’d simmered into this: a moment neither of them could pull back from.

Her fingers curled around the edge of the desk, knuckles white, trying to hold onto something solid while her body threatened to dissolve around him. “Johnny—” her voice was a broken moan now, thick with need. “Don’t stop.”

“Not planning on it,” he gritted, one hand splaying across her hip, grounding himself. The other slid up her back, slow and reverent, tracing the curve of her spine through the mess of lace bunched fabric from her bra. He leaned in, lips brushing her ear. “You feel, fuck, you feel like heaven.”

She couldn’t answer, too far gone in the rush of sensation. Her world had narrowed to the heat of him, the sound of their skin meeting, and the tension spiraling through her with every breath. That was when she heard it: a groan. Not hers. The desk.

“Johnny—” she warned breathlessly, voice half-laugh, half-panic. But he didn’t hear her, or didn’t care. One more thrust, rough and deep, and—CRACK. The desk gave with a sharp, splintering snap, the legs buckling beneath them in dramatic betrayal. Papers flew. An empty coffee mug that survived his initial clearing hit the floor and shattered. And they dropped, a chaotic tangle of limbs and laughter.

She landed with a thud, his weight half on top of her, half braced by what was left of the desk. Wide-eyed, she blinked up at the ceiling, catching her breath.

“Well,” Johnny said, completely unbothered, voice muffled slightly as he pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, “I guess we’re filing this under workplace hazard.”

She burst out laughing, hand coming up to shove his chest lightly. “You broke my desk!”

He grinned, eyes glittering with mischief and no small amount of pride. “Technically, we broke it. I believe in equal rights, Doll, and it takes two to tango.”

She stared up at him, wide-eyed, flushed, and breathless. “How am I supposed to explain this to Sue?”

That earned a groan, low and drawn out, as he dropped his head briefly against her shoulder. “Okay, please don’t mention my sister while I’m still inside you.”

She let out a breathless laugh, one hand covering her face. “Right. Sorry..”

“Thank you.” He lifted his head again, brushing a few strands of her hair out of her face. “Now let’s go back to the part where I was making you see stars.”

She raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the wreckage of her desk underneath them. “Pretty bold of you to assume I stopped seeing them.”

His grin widened. “Oh? So I am that good.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you still let me wreck your office furniture.”

“I didn’t let you,” she scoffed, rolling off the ruins of the desk and onto the floor with a dramatic sigh. “You did that all on your own.”

Johnny propped himself up on one elbow, watching her with an unrepentant smile. “Excuse me, you were the one begging me to stop holding back and finally ravish you.”

She shot him a glare over her shoulder. “I did not say ravish.”

“You didn’t have to. I read between the lines,” he said with a wink. “Here I was, planning to be a gentleman. Take you out to dinner, light some candles, go slow, make it all romantic…”

“And instead, you went full ‘raunchy office scandal,’ like this was some bad porno,” she deadpanned.

He sprawled out on his back, arms folded behind his head like he’d just been awarded a medal for outstanding contribution to office destruction. “You encouraged it. Don’t go rewriting history now.”

She groaned, tossing a crumpled folder at his bare chest. “God, I really am a cheap date. Letting you defile me on a desk without even springing for dinner first.”

Johnny caught the folder against his ribs, grinning. “I can still buy you dinner, Doll. Late-night takeout, your place. Then I’ll run you a bath, light a candle or two, do this the right way.” He gave a lazy, suggestive wave between their tangled bodies. “The desk was just the… prologue.”

She raised a brow, tugging her blazer tighter around her chest. “You better not break my bed, Jonathan Storm.”

He barked a laugh, sitting up and running a hand through his wild hair. “No promises.”

“I’m serious,” she warned, a playful glint in her eye. “It’s an antique.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

She rolled her eyes, but the grin stayed, soft and lingering. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re irresistible,” he shot back, tugging his pants up with that same effortless swagger. “Now come on, I wanna do this properly.”

She stood with a quiet laugh, brushing off imaginary dust and tugging her skirt back into place, still slightly rumpled but beyond the point of caring. Around them, the remnants of chaos — cracked wood, scattered papers, the occasional button — told a story neither of them would ever live down. But somehow, in the aftermath, it all felt worth it. They dressed in a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional smirk or lingering glance exchanged across the room. Johnny, shirt still half-buttoned and hair a charming disaster, held the door open for her with an exaggerated bow.

“After you, Miss Desk Slayer.” She rolled her eyes but stepped through, her fingers brushing his as she passed.

And later, after the food had gone cold on the coffee table and the city lights flickered softly outside her townhouse window, he touched her like he had all the time in the world. No rush. No games. Just quiet, deliberate care. The kind that only comes after you stop pretending there’s nothing to lose. His hands moved over her like he was memorizing her, like he wanted to know every breath, every shiver, every unspoken truth. And she let him, opened herself to him fully, as though their bodies could speak the words of a now familiar language.

When it was over, when they lay tangled in sheets and each other, her head resting on his chest and their fingers still laced together, the room felt suspended in a place as vast as space and timeless as infinity. She broke the silence first, voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t have to come find me tonight.”

He turned his head, pressing a slow kiss to her hair. “I didn’t want to be anywhere else.”

She tilted her face toward him, eyes searching his. “You say that now.”

Johnny’s voice was soft. Softer than she’d ever heard it. “No. I mean it. Wherever you are... that’s where I wanna be.”

Her breath caught. She smiled then, fingers tightening just a little in his. “You’re such a sap.”

“Only for you,” he murmured, already slipping into sleep, his arm pulling her in tighter. And as the night settled in around them, warm and still, she realized something she hadn’t let herself admit until now.

She didn’t want to be anywhere else, either.

Thanks for reading!

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