hoult-nicholas - Tumblr blog

hoult-nicholas · 2 days ago

Text

blazing fire

Johnny Storm x f!reader

Summary: You’re the team’s newest recruit. Serious, quiet, and far from nonsense. Johnny is everything you dislike in a person: loud, arrogant, and attention-seeking.

Warning: Just fluff, a little angst, a minor F4 spoiler probably

Word count: 4.2k

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

Johnny Storm is a literal dork. He’s not commonly adequate for situations sometimes, but that’s what makes him unique. He’s also very persistent, and worst of all – an attention-seeker at best. He’s absolutely charming, yes. Inconveniently bold, and smart at times. Johnny just doesn’t get to crack your walls, because you don’t buy his persona.

And it doesn’t help that you’re the new team’s recruit. You’re quiet, serious, a little introvert – and he is everything you dislike. Loud. Arrogant. Maybe a little try-harder.

There are over seventy floors at the Baxter Building. Gyms, rec rooms, coffee and lab snacks. And you thought you’d be doing yourself a favor if you just reached the rooftop for a little quiet.

Although quiet doesn’t go well when it comes to him. Because as soon as you sit far from the ledge, just to take a breath and look over the sky, the door cracks open loudly. A heat irradiates immediately in your surroundings and a male cologne roams in the air. You instantly close your eyes and wince when you hear his footsteps.

He holds a takeout of container in one hand, chopsticks in the other, and that same smug expression that makes your blood pressure spike every single time.

He’s probably allergic to quiet. Johnny tries to make jokes, to flirt– he goes out of his way to make you laugh or smile, but you’re a tough crowd. You don’t even smile when it comes to Johnny, but it’s not like it matters anyway when he has an ocean of women crawling after him.

“You always this cheery at midnight?” He asks.

“Only when I’m interrupted by human fireworks.”

He chuckles around a mouthful of noodles. “Come on. You love it.”

You don’t answer. You won’t give him that. And he knows you won’t give him the time of the day to even pay attention to him. That’s why he likes you so much.

Johnny is not a bad person, he just lacks a little mannerism. Maybe if he took things more seriously, you’d give him a chance, but you’re not there to make jokes or play around like he does.

You’re always up around the same time as Reed. He’s not. He’s always late, he misses his alarm clock like a teenager who doesn’t have responsibilities. And God, he never does shut up during dinner. The training missions are always a ritual for them. Well, for the three of them, because unlike the oldest ones, he likes to think it’s as simple as lighting the stove with his fingers.

You don’t know why Reed keeps pairing you with Johnny. Actually, you do. It’s because you’re the only one who doesn’t let him get away with good hair and a raw talent. You don’t laugh when he does it, you don’t swoon when he just lights up and unlike Ben and Sue, you don’t let him charm his way out of the drills. Which is exactly why today’s training mission has already gone to hell. Almost literal hell.

Johnny is flying overhead really fast and hot, as you duck under a collapsing beam. His figure leaves a streak of fire that blinds the rest of the team’s sight. He’s practically blowing the tracking sensors off course, when you told him to suppress the flame. He refutes saying he did it.

“This is me being subtle!”

“Oh, great. Then I must be hallucinating the fire tornado!”

“That was totally controlled!”

You glare at him from behind a wall. He’s about as controlled as a frat boy in his 20s during a party.

Johnny lands with a dramatic burst of flame, his arms out like he’s just finished a gymnastics routine “You’re welcome for saving your ass back there.”

“I didn’t need saving.”

“You were pinned.”

“I was crouching!”

He throws his hands up “God, you’re exhausting.”

You brush past him, checking the holographic terrain, glad it’s not real.

It’s all a game of back-and-forth with him. He accuses you of micromanaging every his little detail and every step during the drills, insinuating you always bite his head off. Because that’s what you do best, just to keep him in line, even though it’s not actually your real job.

“I don’t need you to babysit me” He says, his jaw clenched and his fire still burning.

“I’m not babysitting you. I’m trying to keep you alive.”

“Well maybe don’t act like I’m some reckless idiot who doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

He’s pissed at you. It stretches through the week, and he doesn’t come up to pester you at the rooftop, which makes you feel more relieved. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you accepted the job, you knew you’d have to deal with Johnny and his lousy remarks. His attempts of showing something off, like when the power went out and he lit up in flames as a replacement for the candles – just so you could watch him walk around on fire.

The fact is, he’s really trying to make you fit in. To get you to see the real side of the family in the front seat. But his personality... it’s always been like that. Yes, he’s kind of stupid. But he’s caring, he pays attention, he worries. Whenever he notices you're feeling cold, he either stands or sits next to you just so his warmth spreads around you. He’s far from perfect, but he wants to prove to you that he can be trusted. You’re just not letting him.

And the more he tries harder, the more it backfires. Because it won’t get him anywhere when it’s you who he pulls the strings until you lash out. Sue always reasons with you. She’s been there, she’s still there until today. Ben is his best friend, he knows better than anyone how difficult it is to deal with a youngest.

But Johnny still manages to almost burn something during the drills, he makes exaggerated entrances, exploding a tripwire like it was nothing.

“You are, without a doubt, the most frustrating person I’ve ever worked with.”

“That’s not true” He says, showing up beside you with that infuriating grin “You love working with me.”

You don’t, truly. You like the way he makes light jokes when everyone is around but you don’t show it. It doesn’t take an expert to see how you soften when he strokes his sister’s baby belly at night, how he blows raspberries against it just to make her laugh. How he helps H.E.R.B.I.E with the nursery room when Ben gets too tired.

It’s truly exhausting to be in the same room as he is, but you’re trying your best to let it past you. You’ve been more patient, your lips always twitch in a subtle smile when he’s not watching. He gets on your nerves most of the time, but it always fades when you see him around Sue.

How thoughtful he is with the steps so she won’t trip, how fast he stands to give her a hand. Johnny likes to be curious, he does that with Reed, who doesn’t always have the energy to give him attention. He loves cooking with Ben. And when you think deeply – there isn’t exactly a task you do together.

He tries to keep his distance when he sees a frown on your face. Thinks it’s best if he stays away. But when you’re not pissed or remotely angry, he gets closer. Tries to flirt playfully. Whistles music he knows Ben listens to all the time, even though he swears he doesn’t like the type.

Now, during missions, this is where you draw the line. It’s impossible to be paired with him, and you promise yourself every night that one day you will murder Reed Richards for that. It started during the pre-op briefing when Johnny blinked at you. His blue eyes a shade lighter from the sun burning upon your heads.

Two hours later, you're sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with him in a dark, silent monitoring room – both cut off from the rest of the team. You don’t know what caused the blackout. All you know is that the entire communications, the doors are magnetically shut and Johnny is breathing way too loud for someone who caused half the damage.

“This is not my fault” He says.

Of course he would say something like that, knowing exactly he was the one who caused it.

You stare ahead “You literally overloaded the power grid.”

“There was a bomb about to go off. What did you want me to do? Politely ask it to stop?”

“I wanted you to use the tools we brought instead of blasting it with flare.”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

You shoot him a glare “Barely.”

His grin flickers in the dark, illuminated by the low orange light coming out from the tips of his fingers “You’re cute when you’re mad.”

“Don’t.”

He leans back against the wall with a dramatic sigh “So this is what rock bottom looks like. Trapped with someone who hates me in a room without windows, no snacks, no internet, and– wait, are you breathing heavy now, or is that just me?”

“Just you.”

“Right. Of course. Because you’re calm. Always calm. Never shaken.”

You glance at him. The darkness softens his features. It makes him look more like a person and less like a neon disaster. He’s watching you, legs stretched out, fingers drumming against his knee like he’s trying to stay distracted.

“I’m not unshakable” You say quietly.

That shuts him up. You don’t know why you said it. Maybe because it’s been building for weeks, all the heat, the tension, the pressure to pretend you don’t notice the way he looks at you when you think he’s not. The way he tries in his chaotic, impossible way, to prove himself.

“You think I don’t care” He says after a moment, tone softer “You think I’m just fire and ego and cheap one-liners.”

“You don’t make it easy to think otherwise.”

“I know.”

He sighs again, this time without the flair. His voice drops.

“But I do care. I just... don’t know how to show it in ways people trust.”

When you really look at him, you see it clearly. The way there is no bravado behind those blue eyes, just a little bit of fragility under the surface. You exhale almost loudly, because you can’t believe what you’re about to say – but you don’t think it’s a mistake, you don’t think it’s a lie.

“I trust you” You say, surprising even yourself.

He blinks “Since when?”

“Since you yanked me out of a collapsing stairwell without even thinking. Since you stopped cracking jokes when I was bleeding out last month. Since... probably before that.”

He slightly leans in, enough to notice. Just enough to make the air between you warmer.

“You suck at teamwork” You add.

He snorts “Yeah.”

“You improvise too much.”

“Guilty.”

“And you have the attention span of a drunk homeless man.”

He grins “Now that’s just rude.”

“But” You say, tilting your head toward him “you’re not the idiot I thought you were.”

His eyes flicker to your mouth for half a second before he catches himself. He thinks you won’t see because there’s barely any light. But the flames coming off his fingers still cast an orange glow over the side of his face, and you catch his glance from the way his right eye snaps back at you so fast that if you blinked, you’d miss it.

Although the silence settles in the room again, it’s different this time. It’s not heavy, not charged with snarky remarks coming from you. When the power goes back along with your communication, Ben’s voice snaps both of you out of the silence.

“Storm with you?” He asks.

You glance at Johnny. He raises both brows.

You press your finger to your earpiece “Unfortunately.”

You hear him snort beside you. Reed starts rattling off recon instructions, but you barely hear it, because Johnny’s standing now, brushing dust off his pants, and glancing at you like something unspoken just happened.

Drills and missions started to become something less painful with him around. It actually surprised you, especially coming from someone so reckless like him. One day you wake up a little later than usual, and when you walk in the kitchen, Johnny is already there – resting against the countertop, pouring syrup over his nearly-burned waffles as he talks to Reed. You freeze on your spot, feet planted against the ground beneath you, eyes widened in shock.

He just never woke up before nine in the morning.

He doesn’t see you at first, not until Reed lifts his head up toward you, smiling at you. Johnny twists his head back against his shoulders, eyes softening at the sight of you. He scans you over – you’re still wearing plain sweatpants and a tee. You see him smiling at you as he chews on his waffle. His hair is all messy, sweatpants that are too big and the hem just drags on the floor. He looks too domestic. And it makes your throat burn from the thought, because you’ve seen him like that many times before.

The morning goes by too fast, with planning and talking. A day off for you all to just do whatever fits better in your schedule. Reed obviously stays home, nerding about something he’s good at. Sue is getting herself a really good bath, for obvious reasons. Ben goes for a walk in the park, already knowing people are gonna ask him “what time is it”. And Johnny is probably going to flirt. Nothing new under the sun.

Nothing you didn’t know about. But why does it bother you to think about that? Why is it a big deal to you, since you don’t care about him?

You shouldn’t, right?

But it still stings a little.

He doesn’t bring women home. But you know he spends the night with them. You keep thinking about it, and it just brings something uncomfortable to the pit of your stomach. He’s Johnny, he likes women, he likes to flirt. It doesn’t add to the list of your love interests. But God, it’s so stupid to realize what you’ve gotten yourself into.

You walked past the rec deck at the exact moment Johnny Storm is leaning across the pool table, laughing with someone in a low-cut blouse and heels that probably doesn’t even like playing. You keep walking casually, trying to remain calm until you’re out of view – then you stop. Your jaw clenches so hard your molars ache. You can still hear his laugh echoing down the hallway. It’s warm and familiar. The same laugh he gave you every time you fire back something rude just for playfulness. You’re not jealous. That would be insane. You’re not with him, he’s Johnny Storm. A human fireball with a hundred admirers and too many broken flirtations.

But still. That laugh? That stupid little grin he gets when he leans in close, like he’s about to say something that matters? You hate how familiar it’s become. You hate even more that it’s not for you right now. So you do what you’re best at, you bury it.

You make it to the gym, start training really hard. You use a punch bag to release all your stress and the tension that seemed to only worsen through the week. It’s not about him. It’s not. You’re fine, you’re level. You don’t care. Until the door opens – and you don’t need to turn your head to know it’s him. And of course he notices the way throw jabs like someone pissed you off. Because, well, someone did.

“If you’re here to flirt, I’m not in the mood.”

“Who said I was flirting?” He asks.

You huff and throw another punch “Then go back to whoever it was who you were flirting with.”

“Oh” A pause “You saw that, huh?”

You don’t answer. He leans against the wall, arms crossed

“She was just someone Sue invited. Works in the building next to ours.”

“I didn’t ask.”

“No, but your death glare kinda spoke volumes.”

You toss the towel over your shoulder, a snarl forming through your throat “You’re not that special, Johnny.”

He chuckles “Then why are you acting like I broke your heart?”

Your hands still. That one hits too close. It burns, hot and unexpected, like the flash of a match too close to skin.

You turn to face him fully now, anger flaring in your eyes “Don’t flatter yourself. You can flirt with whoever you want.”

“I know” He says quietly “But I wasn’t. Not really.”

You scoff “Looked like it from where I stood.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have been watching so hard” He bites back a little too sharp, a little too honest.

“I don’t care who you flirt with” You force your voice out.

“Then why are you mad?”

“I’m not mad.”

He steps forward “Jealous?”

You flinch for a fraction of a second, but he sees it. And then he’s deliberately close, closer than he should be. His voice dropped low.

“You can lie to me all you want, but your eyes always give you away.”

You want to shout or walk away, but your next best thing is landing a punch over his shoulder, catching him off guard. Johnny hisses with the impact, his hand immediately lifting to rub against the area that hurts most.

“Jesus Christ, woman.”

He still winces a little, but it doesn’t do damage to him. It makes him flattered, in fact, but he hides it behind another sharp inhale when he rotates his shoulder. Just to keep a smile off his face.

You push past him without another glance, and this time he doesn’t just smile. He grins widely.

You definitely start to avoid him as much as you can. You literally begged Reed to change your partner and he put Ben with you. During dinner, you sit as far as you can from him, earning glances from across the table when he attempts to lighten the mood. Even though you don’t try to pretend you’re not even close to being jealous of him, he knows. Not because he’s an expert and he’s full of himself. But because of the way you glare at the women who shout his name on the streets.

Does he respond to those? Yes, but because he’s being polite. Somehow, even though you’re as sharp as a knife and too difficult to crack, he loves the way you try to play cool. He loves the way you treat his family and how you always help even when you don’t need to. How you instructed him during the drills – how you plastered a smile on your face albeit you were in too much pain after a mission.

He’s not tired of trying, he’s tired of the way you glance at him. Like he committed a crime, as if he did something so very wrong and couldn’t redeem himself. But he won’t be the one to tell you how incredibly annoying you’re being because of that. It’s all you. Because you can’t control the way your heart thumps in your chest when his socked barefoot feet are always propped over the coffee table when he’s reading something. Or when a brighter light hits his eyes just so perfectly that you wonder how it’s possible for them to be so blue.

Or the way your stomach drops when you walk in the kitchen and the coffee is already made. Reed doesn’t wake up that early lately, he’s focusing on his health for when baby Franklin arrives.

And he does, three weeks later. It’s a mess, everything is chaotic and fucking loud. No one sleeps much, although you were told you didn’t need to help, you just couldn’t let Sue do it all by herself. Especially when Reed wasn’t around. Especially when the other two remaining people were just two guys who didn’t know much about babies. Neither do you, but still.

And everything burns inside you when you see him holding his nephew – as though he’s made of glass. He doesn’t know shit about babies. Doesn’t know how to hold him yet, hasn’t changed the diapers. But he’s always there, and that’s what matters for his sister. That he’s around, that he’s present and he tries.

You catch him in the middle of the night, feeding little Frank as he sits on the loveseat with the baby propped over one of his arms. Your heart races too quickly, heat blooms in your chest with the sight. He’s not wearing a shirt, only a pair of shorts because it’s too hot. He doesn’t see you at first, only when you take tentative steps further, does he see you. Johnny gives you a short smile before turning to his nephew, mumbling something like “aunt” – and you go off the deep end inside.

He's undeniably adorable. He doesn't struggle to be charming, he's uncharacteristically gorgeous. But what attracts you the most about him is just how altruistic he is.

After grabbing a bottle of water, you get to the rooftop. It’s not late, the sky is full of stars and the moon is shining too bright not to enjoy the view. Airplanes are flying nearby and you’re mesmerized at how big they look the closer they are. You hear footsteps, and you don’t need to look to know it’s him. He walks slower this time. No swagger, no smartass greeting. Just a quiet and careful presence, like he knows something is different. Because it is. He sits down beside you, not too close. Not touching.

“I thought you weren’t coming up here anymore” He says, voice lower than usual.

“I wasn’t.”

He nods. The silence grows again, it’s tight and heavy. Like it holds too much pressure.

“I didn’t mean to piss you off. Not ever, not the last time either.”

You exhale through your nose “It’s not about that.”

He turns toward you “Then what is it?”

You shake your head “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

You don’t answer. Not yet. You’re too busy holding the wall up, the one that’s been crumbling since the moment he started looking at you like you were something worth for.

“I can’t keep doing this, Johnny” You say quietly, like you're exhausted from beating yourself up for nothing.

“Doing what?”

You finally turn your face to his. The city glows behind him, but it’s nothing compared to the warmth in his eyes.

“This thing. Whatever this is. I don’t know how to be around you anymore without... feeling something I’m not supposed to feel.”

He blinks. You keep going, the words spilling faster now – like they’ve been waiting for months.

“You drive me insane. You never follow orders, you light everything on fire, you flirt with anything that breathes, and you make everything a goddamn joke. But then…”

Your voice cracks, and you hate that it cracks.

“But then you’re... you” You whisper “And you save people without thinking. And you look at me like I’m the only thing in the room. And it scares the hell out of me because I don’t know how to not feel this.”

He remains silent, but his eyes are burning. Not just them, but his entire body, and it’s not from the flames. He moves closer slowly, trying to get permission, trying to get through you without trespassing. Just close enough for your knees to touch.

And when he speaks, it’s barely louder than the wind.

“Every time I look at you” He says “I think about how long I’ve been trying not to fall.”

You blink.

“What?”

“I’ve been trying to be what you needed me to be. Controlled, focused. Not a joke. I’ve been trying not to mess this up because I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way.”

“I didn’t. I don’t. I mean... God, I didn’t want to” You try to breathe, but your heart is beating too loud and you lose focus.

“But you do now.”

You don’t deny it. You can’t. You just stare at him, eyes locked, heart hammering, wall completely gone now.

“I wanted to hate you. I really, really tried.”

He laughs once. A short, broken sound.

“Yeah?” He whispers “I wanted to make you hate me.”

“Why?”

“Because if you hated me, then it wouldn’t hurt when you looked away.”

He’s so close now that it makes your shoulders touch. Your breath mingles with his breath, and then his hand brushes yours. It’s a warm, tentative touch.

“Tell me to back off” He whispers “And I will.”

You swallow hard, but your hand doesn’t move.

Your voice is barely there “I don’t want you to.”

And that’s all it takes for him – he slowly inches closer, and you meet him halfway. It’s not a dramatic kiss, there aren’t fireworks or anything. But it’s soft, warm, and careful. Like it’s long overdue. His hand cradles your jaw like you’re something fragile, you twist the fabric of his shirt like you’ve been reaching for him but couldn’t touch him. And when he finally pulls back, he stays close, with your foreheads touching.

“I don’t flirt with everyone” He murmurs “Not like I flirt with you.”

You smile. Just a little.

“I know.”

You breathe together, and his hot breath hits your face. His fingertips are warmer than usual, smoke starts coming off of his skin – a response to your touch, your kiss. Johnny becomes a blazing fire when something sparks inside him. There’s no more hiding or games. Just heat. And truth.

And him.

391 notes · View notes