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brunchable · 6 months ago

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FREAKY FRIDAY | Body Swapped Steve Rogers x f!reader.

Pairings: Johnny Storm Possessed Steve Rogers x f!reader Themes: Body Swap. Sexual Themes. Funny? Horndog Johnny, for an unknown reason, body-swapped with Steve. Summary: You woke up with Steve suddenly out of character and having an overflowing amount of rizz. A/N: It's comedy central in my blog this week. . . I can't help but insert one particular meme lmao

taggies: @mrsevans90

Like you did every morning, you woke up to the gentle warmth of Steve next to you, but there was something different about the way he was looking at you today. His eyes twinkled mischievously as he leaned in close, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Morning, gorgeous," he murmured, his voice smoother than usual. You blinked in surprise. Sure, Steve was affectionate, but this was... new.

You smiled back, albeit a little wary.

"Good morning?" Before you could say anything more, he captured your lips in a kiss that was how to describe it-more confident, more playful than his usual gentle morning kisses. You pulled back slightly, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

“Wow, someone's in a good mood today,” you said, trying to shake off the weird vibe.

Steve just grinned and gave you a little wink. "What can I say? I'm just appreciating my girl."

You squirmed under his intense gaze. You couldn't help but notice how his hand casually trailed down your arm, lingering a little longer than usual. You weren't sure if you should feel flattered or... flustered.

“Should we stay in bed a little while? You know…” he asked, his voice dropping suggestively as he wiggled his brows.

But this time, he didn’t stop there. As he leaned in closer, he slowly stuck out his tongue and wiggled it playfully, making his intentions blatantly clear.

Your face immediately turned bright red.

“Steve!” you exclaimed, quickly pressing your hand to his lips and pushed him away to stop him before he got any closer, utterly flustered by the suggestive gesture.

He chuckled against your hand, his eyes twinkling with mischief. For a second, you felt him wiggle his tongue against your palm, teasing you further before you jerked your hand back with a mix of shock and embarrassment.

“Unbelievable!” you muttered, feeling your face heat up even more.

He gave you a devilish grin, clearly enjoying how flustered you were.

“What? Just offering some ideas, sweetheart,” he teased, giving you a playful wink.

“No, Sam’s going to be here soon for your morning run, so go prepare.”

The excitement drained from his face, “I do?”

“Yes!”

Johnny—or rather, the man you thought was Steve—let out a low chuckle, clearly unfazed by your refusal. This wasn't like Steve at all. Steve was always respectful, sweet, and… well, a gentleman. But today? He seemed like a different man entirely.

“Guess I forgot,” he said with a smirk, sitting up slowly and stretching. His tone was casual, but the grin he gave you was anything but innocent.

As he shifted in bed, he leaned back casually and gave a quick, deliberate glance downwards before gesturing toward the noticeable outline in his sweatpants. The fabric clung snugly, revealing the distinct, firm shape of his dick pressing against the material, enough to leave little to the imagination.

“But if you change your mind about staying in bed…” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you know where to find me.”

You blinked in disbelief, your cheeks burning as he got out of bed and strolled toward the bathroom. He threw one last playful wink at you before disappearing behind the door, leaving you there in a state of complete confusion.

"What the hell is going on with him today?" you muttered to yourself.

You climbed out of bed and started to get ready for the day, you tried to shake off the feeling that something was… off. Maybe Steve was just in a playful mood? Maybe he was testing out some new approach to your relationship, though you couldn't help but wonder where it had come from all of a sudden.

But, soon enough, you heard the front door open and Sam's voice echoed through the apartment. "Yo, Rogers! Are you ready for our run?"

You peeked out from the bedroom just in time to see "Steve" step out of the bathroom, giving you another grin before heading out to meet Sam. He greeted him casually, as if everything was perfectly normal.

Sam looked over at you with a quick nod. “Hey, Y/N. Morning.”

“Morning,” you replied, though your voice sounded more distant than usual. You couldn’t quite bring yourself to look directly at Sam, worried your face might give away just how weird the morning had been.

As they left for their run, you were left alone, still wondering why Steve was acting so differently. But then, you shook your head. Maybe it was all in your head. Maybe he was just feeling particularly confident today. Either way, it was Steve, your Steve, and you trusted him.

Right?

× × × ×

You made breakfast while ‘Steve’ is out on a run. You tried to shake off your confusion by busying yourself with making coffee. It wasn't helping. The memory of Steve's unusually bold behaviour lingered in your mind.

And just when you were about to pour yourself a cup, you felt a sudden smack on your ass. You yelped in surprise, nearly spilling the coffee. Whipping around, you saw Steve standing there with a smug grin on his face, looking very proud of himself.

"Steve!" you gasped, your heart racing for all the wrong reasons. "What are you—"

"What?" he said with an innocent shrug, though his mischievous grin betrayed him. "Just saying hello."

You narrowed your eyes at him. “By smacking me on my ass?”

“Can't help it, you look too cute when you're all focused," he teased, stepping closer.

His hands slid around your waist, and before you could protest, he lifted you effortlessly onto the counter. Your breath hitched. This was not the Steve Rogers you knew. But as much as his behaviour was throwing you off, you couldn't deny the butterflies his actions stirred in your stomach.

"Steve, what's gotten into you?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Instead of answering, Steve leaned in with a mischievous glint in his eyes, peppering kisses all over your face—your forehead, your cheeks, and your nose—until you were giggling uncontrollably.

“Steve, stop it!” you laughed, trying to push him away, but he was relentless, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Your laughter was cut short as his lips trailed lower, brushing down to the side of your neck. The playful atmosphere shifted instantly, your breath hitching in your throat. His kisses became more deliberate, slow and teasing, sending sparks of heat through your skin.

“Steve…” you whispered, but your words melted into a quiet gasp as his lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear. He lingered there, pressing soft, lingering kisses, making your pulse race.

His warm breath fanned over your skin, and without warning, his lips latched onto your neck, sucking gently but with enough pressure that you knew he was leaving a mark. A deep, guttural hum escaped him as he continued, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled your body against him.

The sensation of his lips and the gentle tugging of his teeth made your head spin, and you instinctively tilted your head, giving him better access.

“Steve,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair, your body arching into his.

“Can’t help it,” he muttered against your skin between kisses. “You drive me crazy.”

His voice was low and rough, sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. He sucked on your neck again, his tongue flicking over the spot before he pulled back slightly to admire his work.

"You’re gonna have to explain this one," he murmured with a grin, his lips ghosting over your ear, still hovering close enough to keep you breathless.

× × × ×

For the next hour, you tried to regain some composure, but it was hard with the heat of Steve’s kisses still tingling on your neck. Every time you moved, you could feel the slight sting of the mark he’d left behind, a not-so-gentle reminder of how wild this morning had been.

After making the bed and tidying up, you decided to head to the living room to relax for a bit, hoping that "Steve" had calmed down from whatever flirty streak had taken over him. You still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was a little… off. He's been too quiet.

You stepped into the living room, you stopped dead in your tracks, your jaw practically hitting the floor.

There, casually sprawled on the couch, was Steve in his birthday suit. Stark naked. The only thing covering him was your guitar, strategically placed across his lap. His posture was relaxed, one arm draped along the back of the couch, while his free hand strummed lazily at the strings.

He looked up as if nothing was out of the ordinary, a casual, half-lidded grin spreading across his face.

“Hey,” he said, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

You blinked. Once. Twice.

“Steve… what the hell are you doing?” you finally stammered, struggling to form coherent words as your brain scrambled to process what you were seeing.

He shrugged nonchalantly, still strumming the guitar.

“Just thought I’d serenade my girl.” His eyes sparkled with mischief as he tilted his head. “You know, I think I’m getting better at this guitar thing.”

Your cheeks flamed red as your gaze flickered between his shamelessly exposed body and the guitar that, frankly, wasn’t doing the best job at covering much.

“Put some clothes on!” you squeaked, your face burning from the sight in front of you. “What if someone walks in? Sam might—"

“Sam’s gone,” he cut in smoothly, winking. “It’s just you and me, babe.” He tilted his head, clearly amused by your reaction. “Besides, you weren’t complaining this morning.”

You could feel the heat rising to your face again, this time in full force. "That doesn't mean you get to... to do this!"

He just smirked, lazily leaning back on the couch, the guitar still resting against him. “Come on, don’t act like you don’t like it.”

“Steve, for the love of everything, PLEASE, just put some clothes on,�� you muttered, rubbing your temples as if that would somehow erase the image from your brain.

Instead of listening, he suddenly stood up, the guitar still barely covering anything, and with the confidence of someone performing at a sold-out show, he started singing. Loudly.

“And you're kissin' on my neck, I'm like, “Oh”, Got your hands up on my chest, I'm like, “Oh”” he belted out dramatically, grinning ear to ear as he took a step toward you, his voice echoing through the room.

You panicked.

"Oh my God, Steve! No!" you squealed, immediately clamping your hands over your ears, turning away from him as fast as possible

“Kiss me 'til there's nothin' left, Oh my god, oh my god!” he sang even louder, walking toward you like some rock star, his guitar still precariously covering him as he inched closer.

You darted behind the coffee table, creating a barrier between the two of you, your face blazing red.

“Lalalalalalalala!” You covered your ears tighter, trying to block out the sight and sound of your naked boyfriend serenading you. “Lalalalalalala! I can't hear you.”

But he wasn't stopping. If anything, your reaction only encouraged him further.

“Why are you running, baby?”

He grinned wickedly, circling around the coffee table like a predator playing with his prey. "You could really tear me apart, but- I love you like that, Everything you do just turns me on, I love you like that, Body on my mind like all night long.”

You squeaked and moved in the opposite direction, keeping the table between you, but Steve—guitar still precariously positioned—was unstoppable, matching your every move. It was ridiculous, like a slow-motion chase scene in a rom-com, but you couldn’t help but laugh through your embarrassment.

"Steve! Seriously, stop!" you cried out, ducking and weaving as he chased you around the table, his singing never faltering.

"I love you like that!" he belted, reaching out with one hand as if trying to grab you. You yelped, dodging him by moving to the other side.

"Lalalalalalalala!" you cried, your hands clamped tighter over your ears as you rushed toward the door, desperate to escape.

His laughter echoed in the living room, the sound of his voice-and that ridiculous guitar performance following you as you fled to the safety of the kitchen. Behind you, you could hear him laughing even harder.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop!" he called after you, his voice still tinged with amusement.

You leaned against the kitchen counter, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, your face still burning red. Today was officially out of control.

And this wasn't the Steve Rogers you signed up for.

× × × ×

As the day finally wound down, you were still trying to recover from the whirlwind of events that had unfolded earlier. After a long, flirty, and borderline chaotic day with “Steve,” you were just glad it was almost bedtime.

You had managed to avoid another musical performance from him after the whole guitar incident, but the playful energy hadn’t completely faded. As you stood in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing your teeth, you could feel his eyes on you from across the room, watching your every move.

“Don’t even think about it,” you mumbled through a mouthful of toothpaste, meeting his gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

He was lounging on the bed, shirtless now, with that same mischievous grin you’d been seeing all day.

“What?” he asked innocently, though the glint in his eyes said otherwise.

You rolled your eyes and spit out the toothpaste, rinsing your mouth. “You know exactly what.”

He laughed, the sound low and smooth as he got up and sauntered over to you, his bare feet padding quietly against the hardwood floor. Before you could react, he was behind you, his arms sliding around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“I was just admiring how cute you look in your pajamas,” he murmured, his breath warm against your neck.

You sighed, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to the heat of his skin against yours.

“Steve, it’s been a long day,” you said, your voice weary but laced with affection. “Can we just... go to bed? Without any more surprises?”

He pressed a soft kiss to your neck, lingering for just a second before pulling away with a grin.

“Alright, alright,” he relented, raising his hands in surrender. “I’ll behave.”

You gave him a playful glare, narrowing your eyes as you turned to face him. “You said that earlier today, and then I walked into the living room and—”

“Okay, this time I’ll behave,” he interrupted with a laugh, holding his hands up defensively. “Promise.”

Shaking your head, you couldn’t help but smile. He may have been driving you absolutely crazy today, but this version of Steve—or Johnny, whoever he really was—was still undeniably charming in his own chaotic way.

Once you finished up in the bathroom, you both crawled into bed, the covers cool against your skin. Steve—or, well, Johnny—rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he gazed at you with that playful smirk.

“You sure you don’t want a little bedtime serenade?” he teased, his voice low and suggestive.

You groaned and pulled the blanket up over your head, burying yourself beneath the covers. “No!” you said, your voice muffled. “We’re done with that for today!”

He laughed again, the sound warm and contagious as he settled down beside you. The teasing faded, replaced by a softer, more familiar warmth as his arm slipped around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice gentle now as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

You peeked out from under the covers, smiling despite yourself. “Goodnight, Steve.”

As you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but wonder how long this flirty version of Steve would last—and whether or not you were ready for whatever tomorrow would bring.

× × × ×

The next morning, you stirred awake, the early light filtering through the curtains, and you felt the familiar warmth of strong arms slipping around your waist. Instinctively, you leaned into the embrace at first—until the events of the previous day rushed back to you. Your eyes snapped open, and before you could stop yourself, you jumped slightly, pulling away from the arms that had suddenly felt different, your heart pounding.

“Whoa, hey—what’s wrong?” Steve's voice came out soft, laced with confusion and concern. You turned over to face him, and instantly, you could tell something had changed. His eyes weren’t twinkling mischievously, there was no sly grin or playful wink. Instead, his brow was furrowed in concern, his hands hovering over you like he wasn’t sure if he should touch you again.

“Steve?” you whispered, your voice hesitant, scanning his face. He looked… like himself again. That quiet, gentle warmth was back, the one that had been missing yesterday.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said, still looking concerned. “Are you okay? You jumped like I startled you.” He reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch soft and careful, nothing like the bold, confident gestures from the day before.

You blinked at him, your mind racing. The contrast between today and yesterday was stark. Yesterday, he had been all cocky smirks and teasing touches, constantly riling you up. But now? Now, Steve seemed completely aware of what had happened, but wasn’t letting on.

“I—uh, I’m fine,” you stammered, still trying to process it all. “You just… caught me off guard.”

Steve frowned, clearly still confused by your reaction. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he said softly, his thumb brushing gently over your arm as he studied you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, but your heart was still racing. "Yeah… you’re just… different from yesterday."

His brow furrowed further, but now there was something else behind his eyes. He looked like he was holding something back. “Different? What do you mean?” he asked, though you could sense he already knew.

You hesitated, biting your lip. “Yesterday, you were just… more… flirty,” you said carefully, watching his reaction. “Like, a lot more. You were… singing to me. Naked. With my guitar.”

Steve’s eyes widened in shock, his face turning red almost instantly, but there was something else—recognition. “What? I—I did that?” He didn’t seem shocked by the words, more by the fact that you were telling him.

You nodded, your own face heating up at the memory. “Yeah. And you were… really, really bold. Smacking my butt, picking me up, kissing me all over…"

Steve's gaze drifted down, and before you could even say another word, his fingers gently brushed against your neck, right where Johnny had left that bold mark. His touch was tender at first, but the moment his thumb traced over the small bruise, his entire expression shifted.

"That motherfucker! I'm going to kill him!”

2K notes · View notes

hellfire--cult · 8 months ago

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Johnny Storm x Fem!Reader

wc: 6.7k+

summary: Johnny grows infatuated with you, something he never thought was going to happen to him, at least for a long while. He liked being single, but then you came along, and all he could think about was you... then you got kidnapped thanks to him, and he felt so guilty for it... but not everything was as it seemed.

warnings: +18 smut, p in v (no protection), roughness, hate fucking, some fluffiness, branding of skin, description of getting burnt, slapping, some violence, porn with plot

a/n: I had this vision that needed to be written cause it would not leave my fucking mind, and this was the only chance i would be able to write something like this. I will clarify, this is my first ever MCU fic, and I do not believe I will write anything else for it, at least not now. If you are from the MCU fandom, and decide to follow me, don't expect more really... i mainly write stranger things, i was just... too haunted with this image...

Anyways, I love Joseph Quinn, so I pictured HIS Johnny Storm for this (yes, he triggered the thots.)

thank u to @andvys and @ghost-proofbaby for proofreading this and helping with my editing cause i never wrote marvel and i needed their opinion, i love both thank u

Enjoy and don't forget to reblog!

BRAND ME

When Johnny Storm saw you for the first time, he thought Cupid fired an arrow his way.

Now, it wasn’t the best of situations of course, he had to save you from a slight altercation regarding some of Doctor Doom’s subjects wreaking havoc in the city and all that, and he saved you by beating up the guy that held you hostage in spirits of saving his ass.

You had thanked him, smiled at him and he may or may have not thought of having you as one of his conquests. He was known for it, you absolutely knew about it, but he couldn’t really help himself when he started talking to you. He first asked to meet up with you privately and you immediately rejected his advances, surprising him, sure, but not stopping him, so you offered to meet up with him for a coffee after work.

Coffee was not something he did often. It was usually drinks, and to be fair, no women really ever said no to him. Sure he messed up a few times, but who hasn’t? Still, sharing a coffee with you didn’t sound like a bad idea. It was different, but different didn’t always mean bad.

So you gave him the address to your building, and at 1 PM sharp on Tuesday, he met up with you right outside of it. You were wearing the typical office attire, skirt to the knees, a nice blouse, a comfortable jacket and he still thought you looked absolutely beautiful. Sitting down at the coffee shop, you two talked, and talked, and he found out so much about you.

You were an only child, and you have been working since you could remember. You lived alone, you liked to cook, and you absolutely disliked pickles. Every small thing he found out about you, he reciprocated with a fact about himself, without giving much away of course.

One coffee date turned into two. Then four. Then, counting didn’t matter anymore.

For a month he has been seeing you, and never once has he made a move on you. It’s not that he didn’t want to… He absolutely wanted to. But you were different. You were completely different from all the flings he had, and he even tried to have one after meeting you and it felt pointless. He didn’t know himself any longer, even Reed got a little worried from all the sneaking around he did, but Johnny couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help it when it came to you.

You were magnificent, a breath of fresh air to be around with. You always greeted him with a smile to your face and he’s never felt more alive when you did. He, of course, had to be careful with you. Not because of trust, but of what might happen to you if you were seen being involved with one of the Fantastic Four. He always picked out private places for the two of you to meet, away from public eyes.

Coffee shops turned into take-out coffees and parks. Talks that happened at your home’s balcony. Him looking for a comforting shoulder after a long day of being a hero. He was always careful in keeping you away from public. In keeping you a secret. In keeping you safe.

But not careful enough.

When you didn’t answer your phone that day, his heart stopped. You always answered. He tried and tried but you just wouldn’t pick up and he became restless. He flew out of the headquarters, not caring for the waves people gave him, with your apartment as his only destination. He felt himself growing cold despite being up in flames, flying, the horrible feeling that something happened to you making him want to puke.

And when he arrived at your home, he froze. Your balcony’s sliding door was open and what he saw inside made his whole world shatter. Your things were all thrown to the floor. Your furniture was destroyed. Your pictures were all broken and shattered. And then, as he put a foot into your apartment, he saw you.

You were breathing heavily as you lay on the floor, facing down, and your hair was all over your face. He rushed towards you, jumping over everything that was on the floor, and immediately dropped to his knees in order to scoop you up in his arms and turn you. He pushed the hair off your face as his heart beat loudly in his chest, only for it to come to a stop as he saw the open wound on your eyebrow and the bruise that was starting to form all around it.

“Crap– fuck!” He felt his world plummeting to the ground as he tried shaking you awake, calling out your name, and he sighed with relief as your eyes slowly opened, only for your face to contort into a wince.

“What…?” He shook his head at you and held onto your form, one arm underneath the back of your knees while the other was wrapped behind your back. He got up on his two feet with ease as he rushed towards the balcony. You made a sound of discomfort as you were moved around, and all he wanted was to keep you safe right now. He needed to take you with him. He cannot leave you alone, not when all of this is probably his fault.

“It’ll be quick, I promise…” He took a deep breath as he controlled his flames temperature, ensuring it would not go towards his arms. Your eyes looked up to meet his, his eyes that were now fiery orbs, looking down at you with sadness displayed on his eyebrows. You whined through the pain again and he immediately leaped out of your balcony.

You could feel the heat off his body, but he made sure to make it as less uncomfortable as he could, but he still knew he had to be quick. He was angry, desperate, and that wasn’t making the flames be any less intense. He knew he was gonna break a rule, but he couldn’t give two shits for the consequences he might face with his family. His sister was going to kill him, but she will understand. They all will have to understand.

He sneaked you in, heading straight to his room, laying you down on his bed. The rage he felt with himself was scorching him from the inside out, so he took the top of his suit as fast as he could and rushed towards the bathroom to get one of his medical kits.

He aided you, cleaned your wound, put the butterfly strip over it, and even gave you medicine for any impending headaches. He checked for other wounds besides the one on your eye, but there was nothing else, at least from the places where your clothes did not cover you.

An hour passed and you were slowly coming back to your senses. You opened your eyes to see him walking back and forth, pacing, worry displayed on his features as he seemed deep in thought. You slowly sat up on the bed, looking around, wincing slightly thanks to the throbbing in your head.

“Johnny?” Your voice was small but it was enough for his head to snap towards you and rush to the bed, sitting on the edge right next to you. His hand came up to caress the side of face, making sure to not touch the bruise on your eye.

“Hey…” His eyes were filled with fear, anger, sadness, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat as your eyes roamed all over the room.

“Where… am I?” Your eyes found his again and he gulped, thumb caressing your cheek softly.

“My room… I– I couldn’t leave you alone…” Your eyes widened for just a second to then look down at your hands. Your breathing turned heavy as your eyes filled with tears, shaking your head at him.

“I– I thought it was you… I opened the sliding door and– They wanted information–” Your voice was cut off with a sob and Johnny saw how you winced in pain, your hand flying to press onto your temple and he quickly shushed you, scooching closer to you, lifting his hand to grab yours gently and move it away from your face.

“Don’t touch it– I… I seriously thought I was careful in keeping you safe and hidden… I screwed up.” Your eyes met his, seeing the guilt that was flooding inside, knowing he was torturing himself because of it. His lips were downturned, disappointment written all over. You shook your head at him, your hand grasping his.

“I don’t regret a minute of it…” His eyes met yours as you guided your gaze around the room, frowning slightly as your headache seemed to start to drift away. “So this is your room…” “Fantastic Four headquarters… nobody knows I sneaked you in, but I really couldn’t care less. I won’t let you out of my sight, at least until whoever is stalking me is captured.” You turned towards him again, a soft smile on your lips that made his heart combust in its own flames.

“Probably a fan.” Even now you still joked to him, when you were the one hurt. You were too beautiful. Too incredible, even for his own good. He should be careful with his moves, he should let you know how different you are to his other flings… but his body betrayed him as his free hand came towards your cheek, holding it gently, and his lips surged forward, slotting right onto yours.

Your eyes were wide as a surprised gasp fell from your lips, but you reciprocated that kiss, even if a bit hesitant at first. His lips moved with yours as his body started rising in temperature which he was trying to keep at a warm number. He could easily control his temperature but with you, he was finding it hard to do so.

He was happy because you were not pulling away from the kiss. You were moving into it, following his lead, not even stopping it after your tongues started to dance together. He wanted you. He definitely wanted to show you just how special you are but– You were hurt, and he can’t do that to you now… so he pulled away. Your breaths were heavy as you looked at each other and he rubbed your cheek with his thumb.

“I’ll tell everyone tomorrow you’re staying here for a while. You need safety, and I can give that to you… Just stay with me…” He held you so gently, afraid of you running away, or disappearing right before him. You licked your lips as you nodded slowly at him, to which he responded with a satisfied smile. He leaned forward, pecking your lips once more before getting up which alarmed you, getting hold of his hand.

“Where are you going?” Your voice was small and he thought he was going to break listening to it.

“I’m not going anywhere, just going to get you some clothes for you to sleep in, baby.” Your eyes widened at the new petname, but Johnny noticed how you tried to look away from embarrassment, and he found you too cute. He will definitely protect you. He won’t let whoever is looking for him, or his team, hurt you.

But when he fell asleep and cuddled up to you after having some tea with you before bed, he didn’t expect to be awoken in the middle of the night to a ring of his cell phone. He was startled, sitting up on the bed quickly only to realize you were not by his side. He looked around frantically and grabbed his phone from the night table next to his bed. He answered it, getting up from the bed to walk towards his bathroom in hopes of seeing you in there.

“Hello?” And all he heard was heavy breathing on the other side until a raspy, robotic voice talked.

“How does it feel to wake up alone?” And Johnny’s blood drained, evaporated, and he knows you are not in the building. How did it happen? How? There were cameras, security, detectors, how?

“What the fuck did you do to her?” His voice was coming from in between his teeth, like a growl, a hiss, a threat. The other voice only laughed, igniting Johnny’s anger even more than before.

“Come find out. We’re at her old apartment. We have to talk, Johnny, so come alone.” And like that, the line clicked. He was breathing heavily as he looked down at his phone and his hand shook as he grunted, his eyes igniting in yellow as the hand that was holding his phone set aflame, destroying the device before he threw it across the room, making it hit and for the plastic to splash onto the wall.

He ran his hands through his hair, wanting to rip it all out, to burn the whole building down. If he didn’t tell anyone, he might die, but if he does, then you… He couldn’t. He has a chance, even if alone. He has to save you, he can’t let them have you, he can’t let you suffer because of him.

So he stepped out to his balcony, his body engulfed in flames as he leaped into the sky, headed straight to your apartment. He was trying to go as fast as he could, his breathing heavy with anticipation as he swerved through the buildings. He finally got onto your balcony, the sliding doors were open again but when he looked inside, he couldn’t help but feel confused.

He took a few steps in as his flames subdued, and all your furniture was gone. All your pictures, even the cabinets… it was just empty. Empty except for the big windows that were on the side. What happened?

A chuckle coming from one corner startled him. It was the robotic voice that slowly transformed into a female one. A voice he knew too well. A voice that never chuckled in that manner, always be it a giggle, or a little scoff, but never… this. He turned to face it, and his eyes widened as the figure stepped into the small bit of light that came through the windows thanks to the night sky.

“Aren’t you a little naive Johnny?”

And there, in front of him, was you. Face hard, wearing a simple cocktail black dress, some black heels… nothing like what you normally wear. You didn’t look dizzy because of your bruise, the butterfly strip he applied to you hours ago was still there. It was you… but at the same time, it wasn’t.

“W-What…?” He stuttered, not feeling the tips of his fingers as he looked at how you slowly walked towards him, throwing a device to the ground, a voice-changing device.

“I really didn’t think you would take me to your headquarters. Not this quickly at least.” You sighed, looking out the window as you kept talking. “I had a whole large plan for it, but you just had to make it THAT easy.”

You finished with a giggle, the giggle that he knew too well. The giggle you directed to him many times when he told you stories about Sue and him. Stories about how he made a fool out of himself on a few dates. The giggle that he liked so much… all for it to be a fucking lie. You–

“You lied to me… You–” He felt his heart twist as your eyes turned to meet his once more. He really isn’t lucky, isn’t he? The first time he feels something genuine and he gets stepped on by the universe. You took a step towards him as you put your hands behind your back.

“Not all the time. I can promise that, but my boss will be glad to hear I got into the headquarters in such a short period of time…” Your eyes studied his face, seeing how his features turned from shock to anger, slowly, making a wicked grin appear on your face. “Aw… are you mad?”

“What the fuck do you think?” His voice turned low, and it almost made you freeze in your place, but you kept talking, your head high.

“You look cute when mad. I wish I could take a picture right now–”

“Stop–”

“I would hang it up, frame it… Name it ‘My best show yet’.” Johnny felt his body start to burn, and he had to try to keep the flames from igniting out of his suit, but each word you spat out, made it more and more difficult for him to hold himself back.

“I said stop–”

“I just didn’t think it would be this quick. Who would've thought that Johnny Storm would be so desperate for actual love? So much, he throws himself head first like an idiot–”

A hand came to grab the back of your head, fingers gripping onto your scalp, grabbing your hair, and yanking your head backwards with no restraint, no care. And suddenly your eyes were looking at the Human Torch. His eyes were yellow flames, his face, his hair, his body, everything was on fire and it was burning you. He was baring his teeth at you, your face illuminated by his flames, and you noticed the hand holding the back of your head was not lit.

“I could kill you right now. I could easily burn you to a crisp for no one to find your body.” You trembled under his grasp, and your breathing turned a little heavy as you stared into his flaming eyes.

“But you won’t…” Your reply was soft, making the flames go down, making you breathe out in relief, feeling the cool air again on your body and face. He was still glaring, his nose slightly scrunched up in anger, in disgust. “Approaching you romantically was never the intention.”

That made him tilt his head at you, his eyebrow twitching at the mention of romance. Of how he was so close to having it but–

“Why tell me this? Why not keep the fucking act until you have more?” And you didn’t answer him, still under his grasp as you looked up at him. He couldn’t describe what he saw in your eyes, but he knew that it wasn’t hatred. He knew that there was a feeling that you shouldn’t be experiencing but you couldn’t help it.

So you stayed silent, swallowing as you kept your eyes on him. You saw him tremble slightly and he raised his free hand, making your gaze turn to it as the flames enveloped it all, to the tip of his fingers. It wasn’t a massive flame, more like embers, small, yet damaging.

You felt anything but scared of him, and he knows it, yet his anger fuels him in ways he cannot describe, and he wants to show you. He wants to show you just how fucking angry, enraged, he is. He wants to hurt you, burn you, engrave himself deep on your skin and in your mind.

“Say you don’t want this.” He needs to know if he connected the dots right. Why tell him? Why tell him who you truly were? Why not keep faking it to get more out of him? Did you take whatever you needed in the short period he kept you there? Those few little hours…

You remained silent, looking into his eyes as you struggled in his grasp slightly. Your right hand flew to the wrist holding the back of your head, which only made him pull on your hair once more, making you wince. It was another warning, another chance for you to push him away.

But you didn’t.

His right hand lifted up to reveal that it was slowly being covered in small embers, not yet flames, and he pressed it on your back. Your eyes widened when you felt heat engulf your back, the scent of burning fabric filling your nostrils. You winced when the burning turned a bit painful, his eyes not leaving your face.

He was still scowling at you, his eyes traveling to your exposed neck as his hand kept moving on your back, making small holes in it, the embers spreading slightly. He knew he was burning you, but it doesn’t compare to what you did to him. You will heal from these superficial burns.

You wanted to tell him to hurry up, but you knew that you weren’t the one with control right now, so you had to be careful with your words. You yelped when his hand started moving to your front, leaving embers fluttering over the black satin. It was burning easily, the material too thin, too flimsy.

His eyes caught onto yours once more. You were breathing heavily, waiting for his next move. He clenched his jaw as the memories of those picnics filled his head. Those movie nights. Those nights when you told him about your family. You showed him those pictures that were on your wall that you probably faked. Those pictures were all fake.

His fist grabbed onto the front of your dress and pulled on it as he grunted from the force. Your dress ripped easily away from your body thanks to the holes that were burned on your back and side. Your body will probably have scarring, burnt marks, or red spots, but you couldn’t help the excitement in your body when he held your torn dress in his hand.

His eyes turned to it for a second and then back at you. You saw how they glowed in a deep yellow and his hand engulfed into flames, your dress catching on fire and burning into ashes in three seconds. His eyes returned to their natural color as his hand dropped, and then he could finally take a look at your half-naked form.

You took the opportunity of his distraction to push him away, making him rip his hand off your hair, looking at you with surprise and anger. You were breathing heavily in just your bra and thong, a matching black set, looking at him, the anger in you also coming out to light after how he treated you.

Anger, but no hatred. Not from your side… nor his.

So you took a sharp intake of breath as you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you slammed your lips against his, connecting your chest to his. He groaned at the kiss, his arms immediately wrapping around your frame, his lips moving against yours instantly, like a starved man. Weeks of wanting this with you, dreaming of having you, but he never thought it would be like this.

You bit his bottom lip, yanking a bit on it with your teeth, provoking a protest on his part but you silenced it by sliding your tongue into his mouth. You moaned in satisfaction as his right hand slid downwards, grabbing onto your ass cheek and squeezing tight. You responded by raising your leg up, thigh against his hip, while his hand moved, leaving your behind to graze your thigh, gripping it tightly to hold you in place.

His hips pressed against your core, earning him a moan from you. You felt his buckle against your clothed cunt as well as his hardness as he rutted himself on you, moaning into your mouth. One of your hands went towards his hair, running your fingers through it and then you gripped tightly, pulling his head backwards and away from the kiss. He hissed at the action, his eyes connecting with your defiant ones.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it?” Your voice came out through your teeth, a taunt. He gave a tilt of his head as if asking if you were really defying him right now. You could almost see the smoke coming out of his nostrils as he huffed in anger, his hands flying to the back of your thighs, pushing you upwards with his strength, making you yelp slightly at the sudden movement.

Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist so you wouldn’t fall, but then your back was slammed against the window, with such force that you were amused by how strong the glass was. You whimpered at the coldness against your naked back and ass, eyes glaring back at him.

“You think you have the right to talk back to me right now?” One of his hands left your thigh so it could get between the two of you. His lips reconnected to yours before you could even reply back to him, and you heard how he started undoing his buckle, that ‘F4’ shaped stupid belt he had.

You felt him move underneath you and you heard the rustling of clothes and then something pressing against your wet thong, making you whimper into the kiss. You pulled away to look down in between the two of you, and he had pulled his pants and underwear mid-thighs, enough to let his cock free, which was now pressing against you.

He got hold of the elastic of your thong, pinching it between his thumb and index finger, pulling it away from your body. You then saw a tiny and quick flame set fire and it quickly snapped the elastic apart, making your thong drop from your cunt, left to dangle thanks to the scraps still holding onto your other thigh.

You were exposed to him now, and then he pressed himself against your aching clit, rutting his hips against yours, causing a beautiful friction that left you moaning, throwing your head back, thumping against the glass.

He groaned as he looked at your exposed neck, moving forward so he could bite on the side of it, making you wince as your clit kept being hit with the ridge of his dick. It was hot. Literally hot. Not even warm temperature, it was burning and you wondered how that would feel inside of you.

He was coating his cock with your wetness, and he couldn’t be bothered with foreplay, he didn’t care for it, and you didn’t either, not that you needed it. You’ve been wet the moment he gripped your hair. So he pulled his hips back, letting the tip of his cock kiss your clit for a brief second before it caught on your entrance.

A voiceless moan got caught on your throat, where his teeth still remained, as he slowly pushed inside and– it was a perfect burn and stretch. He was perfect as he seethed himself inside, your walls fluttering in need around him as his mouth unlatched from your throat in order to look at how your face contorted at each inch of him.

“Good. That shut you up.” He held back the groans as he watched how your eyes were wide, looking in between the two of you now, seeing how his cock was disappearing inside of you. He wanted to hate you. He wished he could. It wasn’t fair that even now all he could think about was you, even if it wasn’t like before.

He cracked his neck as he felt his control slipping away, afraid of letting his flames burst out without his intention. He slammed his hand on the glass, right next to your head, as his left one gripped your thigh tightly and he struck his hips forward, bottoming out inside of you in one forceful thrust.

You gasped as your eyes met his. He was deliciously deep. There was a little bit of discomfort due to not having any prep but it was worth it. He was breathing heavily as he looked at you and your eyes danced with his in uncertainty, in rage, in sadness, in confusion. He was letting you adjust, or maybe he was just catching his breath, either way, you didn’t think you deserved it.

“You’re gonna cum already Johnny boy?” He gave you a glare, which only made you smirk at him. You didn’t deserve the kindness, at least not from him. He started pulling out of you, only to roughly slam back in, causing you to choke on your own moan. You felt it in your throat almost. And then, he set the bruising pace. No mercy, slamming into you like a wild man.

The glass behind you shook, the metal hinges making loud sounds as he kept smashing his hips against yours over and over again, not leaving a single second for conscious thought, not leaving a single second for even a memory to slip through the both of you. All he wanted was to pour his anger out, all he needed was to show you how you made him feel then and how you made him feel now.

The sound of skin slapping echoed through the now empty apartment, an apartment where he spent a few nights with your company. He growled at the memory, his hips picking up a pace as your moans raised in pitch, your fingers digging into his shoulders, scratching on him while your eyes filled with tears. Was it pleasure? He didn’t know.

“Not acting so smartass now, huh?” You choked out a moan as you tried to speak but he was piercing you right where you needed. Your g-spot was being abused at each sharp thrust of his. Punch. Punch. Punch.

You felt your body heating up, more than any other time you slept with someone, feeling as if you were sweating more than you should and you knew it was him. You knew he was raising the temperature of his body, including the one in the entire room. Your forehead was sweaty, your neck, your chest that was still covered in your bra that you now need to rip off because it was just too fucking hot.

You lowered a hand and pressed it against the glass, right next to you, and you grunted as you pushed against it, forcing him to stumble backwards. He fell to the ground, holding onto you, his back hitting the floor, his dick never slipping out of you as you landed on him, which caused you to choke.

You were breathing heavily as you looked down at him, who only winced slightly at the sudden hit on his ass and back. Your hands were now on his chest, still covered with his suit. You stared at the number 4 logo, glaring at it, and then your eyes found his. He was looking at you now with furrowed brows, sad instead of angry ones.

You didn’t deserve those.

Your hands went towards your back, unclasping your bra off and ripping it off your body. A sigh of relief escapes you as the air hits the sweat that’s on your tits. Your hips started circling against him, slowly, and he threw his head back as his hands gripped your hips, his digits digging into your skin.

Your belly coiled as you started rising yourself up and then slam back down again, knees pressing against the hard floor, knowing you will be bruised tomorrow, but you could give two shits about that right now. His hands traveled upwards, grabbing onto your breasts and everywhere he touched just left a lingering feeling of warmth, of burning.

You threw your head back as his fingers pinched your nipples, making your belly coil as you slammed yourself down again and circled your hips against him, making the tip of his cock rub against your g-spot repeatedly. He moaned your name in pleasure, the first time he did during the night and you looked down at him.

“You sure that’s my name?” And his eyes clashed with yours in new found anger, sitting up as his left hand gripped your waist, while the rest remained on your hip. His face came close to yours as his words became venomous.

“I wonder how many names you had to come up with. With how many you had to whore yourself to in order to get information for your boss. Whoever that might be.” And him calling you a slut was not something you expected. You didn’t want him to think that. You became angry. Not at him, but yet, you had to direct it towards someone.

So you slapped him.

His head was turned with wide eyes and you had to pretend you weren’t shocked at your own actions. You looked at your hand and then back at him, opening your mouth to say something but as he slowly turned to face you again, you knew you had fucked up. You saved yourself by talking once more.

“I didn’t jump your bones. You jumped mine, back in your room. Who’s the actual whore here, Johnny?” And you let him have the small memory of that innocent kiss he gave you. Of that kiss that made him so happy you had reciprocated, only for that memory to be shattered, tainted. His glare turned murderous as he looked at you.

You started feeling the areas he was grabbing you at become hotter and hotter. Your breathing became heavy in nervousness as your head turned to look at his hands which were becoming redder by the second. He laid back down and pushed his hips up, making you raise yourself a bit on your knees and before you could say something, he started slamming himself inside of you once more.

Your mind became mush in an instant, your moans choking up your voice as he hit your insides over and over again, the slapping of skin loud and quick. Your belly started turning, the elastic band about to snap as your hands dug into his chest. And then, you screamed as pain took you out of your pleasure palace.

The smell of burning filled the room, very slightly, faint, but still there. You looked down at where he was holding you, and his hands were now almost as red bright as metal against fire. He didn’t stop his pounding either, growling as he looked at you with his yellow irises, filled with flames.

“This is your reminder of who you betrayed. For you to remember me.”

Tears fell down your cheeks as you felt the pain of your skin being burnt, of being branded by him, and then your climax hit you out of nowhere. You choked out a whimper, a cry of his name as your walls tightened around him, pulsating. His balls tightened with the need for his own release, and he cooled his hands once more but kept them in place on your body.

He groaned loudly at your tightness and he looked at how tears fell down your face as well as the drool that had pooled in the corner of your mouth. He cursed under his breath and slammed his hips upwards one more time, completely seething himself inside as his cum filled your insides and you felt the heat of it. You could feel it.

He was breathing heavily as he lowered his hips, his hands keeping you in place so you wouldn’t lower on him. He hissed as he pulled out of you, his cum already dripping down from your hole, falling on the red tip of his cock. Your eyes looked down at his hands as they slowly parted from your skin, a squelching sound following after.

You were bleeding in some places, layers of your skin successfully burnt with his handprints. They were hurting you, they were very painful, and you… you couldn’t be mad at him for them. Your eyes connected to his as he lay there looking at his own hands, trembling at the sight.

Pieces of your burnt skin were stuck to his hands, on his palms. He lost control. He didn’t want to hurt you like this. You saw the guilt that displayed on his face and you raised your hand, wanting to touch him and tell him–

“Shit…” You winced before you could say anything else. He snapped out of his thoughts and sat up, pushing you to sit on the floor next to him. Without another word, he got up and you looked as he pulled his pants back up and buckled his belt once more.

“I guess we’ll see each other again now that you’ve entered the headquarters.” He was asleep while you were there. He was sure you took something, and it was just a matter of time for you to strike the building or him. He walked towards the sliding doors, and you moved on your place, wanting to go after him, but the sharp pain of the burns made you stay put.

“Johnny… wait.” Your voice was choked, but he turned around to face you again. You felt the room becoming cooler, and you didn’t want it to be that temperature… but it had to do for now. “My name… I didn’t lie about my name.”

His eyebrow twitched in confusion at that. Should he believe you? Should he trust you on that one? He didn’t know, he didn’t want to find out, he didn’t want to see you again, but he knew that one was inevitable. He turned away from you and you saw how his whole body turned into flames and flew out of the balcony, leaving you bruised, branded and alone.

In an empty, cold, room.

“It’s been a while since your last report, Chameleon.”

The stupid nickname your boss gave you. You had the ability to infiltrate through people without being spotted. It wasn’t a superpower, just good hiding.

“Got a little bit busy Boss.” Your voice was flat as you looked at how the man turned to look at you. So many people are afraid of this man, but there was something about Doctor Doom that just made you want to laugh.

“I hope that ‘bit busy’ was to get the information we need.” His voice was threatening, menacing as he looked at you through the screen. You gave him a sharp nod.

“Yes, I was planning my next encounter with Storm.” At your report, he gave a small nod of approval. You felt your bandages becoming sticky underneath your oversized sweater. It was about time to change them again, so you had to make this a quick call.

“I see. So, you still didn’t get into the headquarters then?” And you wanted to smile at his question. You wanted to show him how fucked he was, but you held yourself back because you had another plan in action, one that doesn’t include a boss.

“No sir. I require more time to create a bond with him.” He gave a small nod as his sharp tone filled the speakers.

“Get it done.” And the call ended abruptly.

You stared at the black screen, a smile appearing on your face as you slowly got up from the couch, walking towards the windows that were all blacked out. You pressed a button that was on the side and the windows returned to be transparent, showing the city lights in the night.

But what caught your attention was the orange gleam that was far away, still, floating, as if looking your way. You knew it was him. He has been waiting for you to turn the windows transparent once again. You had blacked out the apartment from his view for a whole week. You had refurbished it again, even hung up a real picture this time, the only one in the room.

One of you and him. One that you took at a picnic you had planned for the both of you. One that wasn’t part of the plan. Like the theater. Like the nights spent in this fake apartment. Like the drinks spent on a terrace. But he didn’t know that.

And then you saw him fly away, making your heart plummet to the floor. You winced as you turned to walk towards your kitchen, ready to take care of your wounds. Of his markings. Of his handprints that will permanently stay on your skin.

It was funny. First, you betrayed Johnny, and now you are betraying your boss, someone who might rip you apart the moment he finds out you’ve been lying. Yet, you are more scared of losing the only fire that made you feel alive after a long while.

You’ll keep that flame alive. You have to.

You’ll make sure it does.

end

a/n: um, yeah, the thot was the burning of clothes, like, how was i supposed to do that one with just like, a normal person with no superpowers... with a lighter? not sexy enough.

also, handprints.

ta-ta

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starboye · 5 months ago

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Kinktober Day 20

starring: johnny storm x male reader x reed richards

request: Sue Storm and The Thing are in an undercover mission which leaves Human Torch (Chris Evans), reader and Mr Fantastic (John Krasinski) alone in the same building. Johnny and reader use their free time to fuck, waking Reed from his sleep who is both frustrated and horny from reader's moans, he gets to the scene and finds Johnny fucking reader while holding him standing, this makes Reed turn feral and joins them to make a really dirty night

warnings: smut, cusring, oral sex, face fucking, unprotected sex, creampie, threesome, cheating!reed richards

with the whole building being empty it would be such a shame to not seize the opportunity for johnny to fuck you after not being able to for weeks due to the overwhelming amount of work.

johnny having you stood up as he fucked you deeply, he was spewing all kinds of shit in your ear "your ass feels so fuckin' good, i wanna give you all my cum so bad, i wish you could get pregnant" sometimes he was dumb but he was hot so it evens out.

but to the dismay of reed who was trying to get some sleep, but with being awoken by your slutty moans reaching down the hall, his cock hardening in his pants and after not being able to get off or have sex with sue in forever he was definitely complementing fucking you too.

but after hearing the way you moaned and praised the way johnny was fucking you he lifted out of his bed and walked to johnnys room, opening the door to see your ass getting plowed by johnny while standing up, but that didn't stop johnny.

meanwhile you were freaking out trying to stop him "you just gonna stand there or are you gonna get to fucking" johnny calmly said as he angled you towards a horny and sexually pent up reed, and what else could he do with a fine man like yourself right in front of him and an aching cock in between his legs, fuck you dumb.

he gives you a sloppy kiss before moving your head down to his crotch. bringing his cock out of his joggers to then slip into your mouth, his hands tightly holding your throat to fuck your throat like a sex toy.

"fuck it feels so good" he whimpers out, falling apart at the mere feeling of your tight mouth walls taking his whole length "i know right, got him all stretched out myself" johnny brags making your roll your eyes at his cockiness.

you mouth felt way better than that of sues, every night reed tried to have sex with sue she would deny him so after a few night of that you get a pent up man who needs to get of right then and right there and luckily you were the one to help him.

his thrusts into your mouth become deeper and harder as he closes in on his climax "shit can i cum down his throat" reed asks, wanting to make sure it's okay with you "don't worry y/n loves getting his holes used and cummed in, right baby" johnny asks to which your reply with a gargled 'mhm'.

reed gives a couple more thrusts into your mouth before filling you with his cum, johnny following close behind with his load spurting into your hole, filling you from both ends, lucky you, "thank you for that" reed says pulling out and putting his joggers back on.

"where do you think you're goin' you still got another hole to fill" you say panting and pulling your ass to the side and letting johnnys load drip down your leg, pulling reed back in, the fucking went on all night before sue and thing got back, you all acted like you just chilled the whole day but it was pretty obvious with that new limp you had.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft@wompwomp-1mh3re

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grimmsbride · 20 days ago

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⠀⠀⠀ ▒ ❀ ̭͡⠀ ❛ Promises, promises. Johnny Storm

summary. out of desperation you make a deal with the literal fiery devil. let’s see if you can keep up your end of the bargain.

tags. johnny storm is ooc (based off my interpretation of him in the game & little things i remember from the movies). reader is a healer. mentions of usual game mechanics. not proofread. smut. porn with little plot. face seating. oral sex (fem. recieving). reader is chubby/curvy & black girl coded (all are free to read ofc). attempts dirty talk. like one pet name. overstimulation. multiple orgasms. entire plot is inspired by that one luna snow & human torch comic by; CEO OF MILFS on twitter.

author’s note. trying to get back into tumblr writing with marvel rivals, i’m sorry for being so mia everyone. i hope you enjoy and as always please excuse any typos or grammar mistakes.

I’m tired.. The statement was simple running through your mind, jogging closely behind a salivating Venom and your other teammates. Being a hero was a daunting job, one you didn’t regret— but daunting nonetheless. And having to use your abilities to heal wounds was even harder; the concentration that went into it— nevermind the fact some people were just so demanding at times.

A heavy sigh escaped you, hands caressing the air to heal Venom, hearing his tongue-filled thank you shortly after. The time was ticking, only about a minute and thirty seconds left, with zero progress to the last objective. Your teammates were dropping like flies and it seemed like they took even longer to come back from recovering.

Between the match looking quite bleak and the tiredness running through your body, you wanted nothing more but to find a corner and hide; awaiting that familiar feminine voice to tell you, the team had lost.

Caught up in your thoughts, you jumped in surprise the moment something slammed into the wall beside you; concrete crumbling from the impact. You spun around, gasping as a familiar silhouette came into view.

“Johnny!” His name escaped your lips urgently, rushing over and stepping carefully over the debris. Your eyes scanned his body, noting the fact his skin was back to normal as he laid amongst the rubble. A hiss escaped, lowering to your knees and gently scooping the man closer.

You couldn’t deny the level of affection you held for the infamous Human Torch. Despite his frat boyish and overly flirty ways, you knew there was a good heart underneath all that flame.

Not that you would ever admit it anyway.

“I got you, Johnny.” You mummured, hand rising right above him and healing him, the pink glow covering his body like a comforting blanket. You watched happily as his eyebrows undid from his pained crease, watching his own gaze focus on your face.

A boyish grin crossed his features, “Hey, thanks…” He spoke, albeit strained. Though soon he coughed, a hand rising to cover his lips. “I—I think you missed a spot with your healing.

Your eyebrows pressed close, eyes scanning up and down his body for a moment. “Where?”

Like the overgrown child he was, Johnny pointed right to his lips, even making an effort to pucker them in your direction. You gave a loud groan, basically tossing him off you and back into the rubble where pained laughter escaped him.

“Be serious for once, we’re about to lose.” You huffed, slowly dragging your body to standing whilst patting your bodysuit free of rocks and debris. You glanced down at your watch spotting the fact you had forty seconds left. Forty, and your teammates progress wasn’t far at all.

You gritted your teeth, glancing down at Johnny who seemed all too comfy on a bed of rocks.

“Johnny— come on! We have to help the others.”

Johnny gave an unenthused expression, tucking his hands behind his head. “Let the time run out, we can’t do much like this anyway.”

You crossed your arms, struggling not to strangle him right then and there. “I thought the Fantastic Four always fought to the end. I wonder what Reed would think of this..”

The threat went unnoticed, Johnny seemingly tuning you out. Now with only twenty seconds left, it seemed the anxiety began to stir within you, debating on whether to leave him behind and go back to your team.

It would be best, even without some extra firepower you going back to healing would help expeditiously.

Still..

With nothing left to lose, and clenched fists, you stared down at the man with a serious expression. One he caught quickly.

“Wha—“

“If you get up right now, help, and we somehow win this; I’ll sit on your face for however long you want.”

All was silent for a moment, Johnny slowly removing his hands from behind his head, staring at you with an unreadable expression. Suddenly, the air around you was getting hot— way too hot.

A loud flame on! thundered from Johnny’s throat, skin coated in flame as he blasted from the debris and back to the fighting area. You didn’t actually expect that to work, at all. You expected some laughter and him continuing to ride the time out. Not the sudden burst of energy.

But you couldn’t complain.

You chased close behind, hands rising to heal your teammates as they came into view. Sweat trickled down your body, eyes flickering between the time and the objective. It was reaching overtime, it growing closer and closer— more stressful as the seconds passed.

Your team was pushing though, whether with the extra fire or not you couldn’t tell— nor was it a main concern right now. You just needed to keep healing, even when your eyes grew blurry and body ached; you had to keep healing.

Flame began to consume your opponents, their numbers dwindling as you pushed and pushed, the seconds draining but oh so fulfilling.

Finally you made it , the objective clearing as a triumphant you win! echoed around you.

As this reality set you couldn’t help but smile, feeling your body relax slowly. Only to tense the moment you remembered.

You made a promise. And unfortunately for you. Johnny didn’t seem like the type to forget those so easily.

. . .

You dragged the towel along your body, drying your skin completely whilst standing in the middle of your bedroom. After the match you made your way quickly to your quarters, far too excited to wash off the sweat and grime that accumulated from the battle. The water was way too soothing, you nearly extending your shower but not wishing for your skin to get pruny.

With a heavy sigh you placed your towel off to the side, sliding on some panties first before going for your night gown; a pale pink cami style night gown that hung at your ankles, silky and soft against your fresh skin.

You lowered to your bed, legs crossed as you slid some shea butter along them. Focused on smoothing the lotion evenly, you jumped the moment someone knocked on your door, eyebrows creasing in slight concern.

It was getting late, and you weren’t exactly prepared for guests nor were you in the mood to hold any ounce of conversation.

But with another knock you were rising, lips curling into a grimace as you waltzed over to the door in lazy strides. Soon enough you were infront of it, fingers locking around the knob as you turned and pulled, opening the door to reveal the one and only Johnny Storm.

He was dressed in a simple pair of sweatpants and a black tshirt, hair tousled yet still neat enough. Johnny’s gaze traced your attire, smiling to himself.

“Nice gown.”

You rolled your eyes, arms crossing. “What do you want, Johnny? I wanna some sleep after today.”

The man wore a disgruntled expression and despite your best efforts — which really weren’t any — he crept into your room, busying himself with picking up some random knick knack upon your vanity.

“So soon? What about your promise?”

You rose a single eyebrow, trying to make sense of what he said. Silently you stood, arms crossed and staring straight ahead in thought— Johnny waiting ever so patiently, his own gaze settled on your form.

Finally it hit you, like a train, all at once— the stupid promise you made in the heat of battle.

You began to sputter, instinctively shutting the door behind you in fear of what someone might hear;

“Ar—are you seriously going to hold me to that? For what I said in the heat of the moment— that wasn’t a pun.” You added quickly the moment you noticed that damned smirk creep onto his face.

Johnny placed your random item off to the side, shrugging a little as he took you in.

“I mean.. you sounded pretty serious back there..” He hummed, eyes rising from you up to the ceiling. “And I did..” The man stretched the word to really get his point across;

“Hold up my end of the bargain.” Again, Johnny shrugged as if it was no big deal, clearly enjoying the way you squirmed.

“So how about it [Name]? Looking to keep your promise?”

You couldn’t handle the way he was staring at you, your gaze quickly looking at anything but him. From your vanity to your ceiling, your eyes danced about as if the answer was written plainly in the air. You expected to be in bed by now, cuddled up under blankets and sleeping away the stress of the day.

Not being propositioned for a statement you said randomly without a single thought.

As your eyes flicked back to the man, you noticed how he stood patiently— for once. Fully waiting for your reply. Maybe even a hint of excitement resting in his eyes.

Your teeth dragged across the inside of your cheek, rising a single hand and pointing towards your bed.

“Lay down..” You tried to sound much more confident than you were letting on, but you were sure your voice wavered with each word. Though it didn’t seem to faze the man, as Johnny was more than ready to abide your command; basically running over to the bed and dropping to his back— bouncing a little from the impact.

You took in a sharp breath, bending as your hands ran across your thighs for a moment, under your dress, and hooking onto your panties. All under his watchful gaze you slid them down, the fabric bundling before landing against your floor.

Stepping out of them, you glanced up spotting the excited smile practically glued to his face. Slowly you stepped closer, approaching your bed and going knee first onto the comfy blankets. Carefully you crawled up and over him, soon standing right over his torso, collecting your night gown in both hands.

Johnny stared up at you, hands going to glide across your exposed legs, awaiting your next move.

You clenched your dress, lips pursing as you spoke, “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

“Sit and find out.”

Johnny spoke far too quickly, voice devoid of his usual playfulness. You couldn’t deny his words sent a shiver down to the right places, your anxiety simply churning even more.

But, you couldn’t turn back now. Or rather, you didn’t want to. So with a careful step, you inched until you were directly standing right above his head, slowly bending your knees.

Just when you were an inch above his face, strong arms suddenly locked around your waist, quickly pulling you down the rest of the way. You couldn’t help but gasp, face flushed with warmth the moment you felt his gentle breathing right against your center.

“I—I’m not too heavy…right?”

You jumped the moment his annoyed grunt tickled against you, deciding it may be best to shut up right then and there instead of focusing on such trivial things. Rather you began to focus on his lips, and how they gently pressed against you.

Your own parted as the softest oh escaped. The feeling foreign but not at all unwanted. Your eyes fluttered closed, breathing softly as the gentle ministrations continued, Johnny purposely warming you up, slowly.

And when it seemed like you would get enough of just his lips, his tongue poked through, prodding at your lips before sliding them open with a slow lick.

You shook, clenching your night gown tight as those licks continued. His tongue was thick and long, slithering from your entrance right to your clit; paying special attention to that little bud. You were growing hot, eyebrows creasing closer as the pleasure grew. You weren’t experienced in this sort of thing; no one has ever gifted you the pleasure of cunninglingus, yet here you were; with a fellow hero nonetheless.

Your coworker, really, one whose tongue was doing wonders.

“Johnny..” His name fell from your lips in a soft moan, it etching into a groan the moment you felt a hand of his move towards your ass, a warm palm gripping a handful. There, Johnny’s rhythm sped up, his tongue twirling, creating a sloppy mess of your cunt.

Filthy sounds echoed from between your legs, a combination of your pussy and the downright sexy groans that the man was humming right into you. His fingers gripped your skin tightly, assuring you didn’t move an inch as he kept up his treatment.

Your legs began to shake, his hair tickling your thighs as your stomach tightened. A hand released your nightgown to instead grip your headboard, even leaning forward to rest your forehead against the cool wood. The pleasure was clouding your mind, hips slowly moving; grinding right down on his face— without a care if he could breathe anymore.

Johnny’s enjoyment was clear in the way his tongue went flat, gifting you a perfect surface to ride upon. The man was in pure heaven, having such a pretty thing right on his face, unable to move unless he says so. And albeit muffled because of your thick thighs, your moans were the perfectly melody to his already splendid front row seats.

The Human Torch wondered how loud he could get you with just his mouth. Maybe enough that someone bangs on the wall, begging for some peace within the night. Johnny couldn’t help but grin to himself, lips slowly circling your swollen bud, sucking eagerly.

“Fu—fuck…Johnny, Joh—johnny please!”

That’s it.. The man thought to himself, far too happy. He wish he could speak properly, muttering sweet praises and teases; wishing to mock you for being so loud yet encourage it in the safe breath. For now though, Johnny settled on humming along to your moans; the action causing the sweetest vibration.

Your hips increased in ferocity, chasing that high as the band within your stomach continued to tighten. Your eyes were going hazy, struggling to keep your voice at bay. It seemed your night gown went completely forgot, pushed up on your waist whilst your free hand went for his hair, tugging at the perfect locks; feeling the man grunt in response.

The harshest moan escaped you, hips grinding to a stop as you came; a sticky mess painting his face. Your chest rose and fell, heavy breaths escaping as your eyes shut close in an effort to relax.

Which, proved useless the moment you realized Johnny hadn’t stopped. At all. Not for a second. His tongue remained on your cunt, licking you clean of your orgasm and then some.

The pleasure bordered on torture now, quickly turning into overstimulation that had you babbling for mercy;

“J—johnny..! Ple..please I need a break..!—“ You reached for his forehead, pushing weakly at the space. The man didn’t move an inch, him even making an effort to snake a tight arm around your leg so you didn’t move off him.

Tears sprung to your eyes, using the headboard to steady yourself as tremors ran through your body. You could only sit there, paying the price for your poor choice of words in sobs and moans, the tears now streaming right down your warm cheeks.

Johnny was somehow able to peek at you, something he instantly regretted the moment he saw your features. So beautiful, face flushed, eyes glossy, and with the tiniest pout. He felt himself getting harder right in his boxers, struggling not to use a hand to stroke against the growing bulge. But the man knew if given the opportunity you would probably jump right off, so instead he settled on moving his hips uselessly in the air— hoping the friction would relieve even an ounce of tension.

“So fucking wet…I might drown.” Johnny managed to say right into your pussy, a loopy chuckle escaping him; as if drunk off your taste. But with the way his eyes were rolling back, he just might be.

“Jo..johnny, Johnny, please..”

“Fu..fuck..” The man muttered, sucking you up with such vigor as if his jaw was made of metal. “Keep.. saying my name, baby. Let me hear you.”

You obeyed his request easily, his name falling from your lips in a desperate mantra. With each call it pitched, your eyes going blurrier— possibly even rolling to the back of your skull. That familiar feeling broached your stomach, only harsher than before; a feeling that nearly scared you if it wasn’t for the pleasure that quickly washed over.

With shaky legs you were riding his face, your own a complete mess with tears, pressed against the cool wood of your headboard. Your eyes pinched closed, broken gasps and heavy moans escaping you— voice going raw the moment it all came crashing down.

Heavier than before, surely soaking Johnny completely with your mess. You struggled to breathe, eyes pinched closed as the hold on his hair and your headboard loosened.

You whined the moment you felt movement, worrying he would pick back up but pleasantly surprised to feel the man gently pushing you down to rest on his chest, hearing a sharp breath escape him.

Your head went slack, eyes opening to land on his face. Johnny was a mess, skin coated with your arousal and his saliva, marking up his lips and cheeks. Along with that, he was a little red, hair even messier than before.

Yet he still grinned easily, gliding his hands up and down your thighs, soothing you a little.

“See? I knew you could do it.”

You rolled your eyes slowly, shifting a little and moving in an attempt to crawl off. Yet you didn’t move an inch as his arms tightened, refusing to let you go.

You caught his gaze, Johnny chuckling softly at the look of confusion painting your features. His hand rose, thumb curling to your waist.

“You said for as long as I like..”

“John—“

The man gave a playful pout, head tilting up at you.

“You wanna keep your promise.. don’t you?”

367 notes · View notes

amethystarachnid · 1 month ago

Note

I didn’t see a list of characters you wouldn’t write for so I wanted to request a fic with Peter quill or Johnny storm, Ik it’s kinda random lol but it’s just something different since I haven’t seen them much.

ONLY PHYSICAL

⤷ JOHNNY STORM

ᯓ★ Pairing: Johnny Storm x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, spicy, some drama but also some fluff

ᯓ★ Requests status: open

ᯓ★ Summary: you hate Johnny Storm, hate his smirk and his jokes, that's what you keep telling yourself. But one night, as you're both drunk, you end up sleeping together...Which then leads to a particular arrangement between you two...What will happen after that?

ᯓ★ Word count: 9.3k

ᯓ★ TW(s): spicy, lots of spicy scenes but nothing too explicit

ᯓ★ Omg, Johnny my love, one of the first marvel character I loved <3 Also, since the ask didn't specify anything I wrote it using my ideas and it's been too long since I saw the fantastic 4 so some things may be inaccurate or wrong, sorry <3

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

It’s almost laughable how much you can’t stand Johnny Storm.

From the moment you join the team—a reluctant addition after Reed practically begs for your expertise in energy manipulation—Johnny makes it his mission to get under your skin. And he succeeds. Infuriatingly so. He doesn’t even try to hide it, flashing his smirk every time he catches you glaring at him, tossing out sarcastic remarks with the ease of someone who knows just how attractive he is.

“You know,” he drawls one afternoon, leaning against the doorframe of the lab where you’re trying to finish a recalibration of Sue’s invisibility suit, “I think I finally figured it out.”

You don’t bother looking up, tightening the screw on the prototype as you mutter, “I don’t have time for this, Storm.”

“No, no, hear me out,” he insists, stepping inside without invitation. His voice drips with mock seriousness, the kind that instantly makes your shoulders tense. “You’re into me.”

You actually laugh at that, short and sharp, finally turning to face him. He’s grinning like he’s just said the most brilliant thing in the world, his white teeth practically gleaming. His blond hair is tousled in a way that you suspect takes effort to look effortless, and he’s wearing that fitted T-shirt that always seems to cling a little too perfectly to his chest.

“In your dreams,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Oh, definitely,” he replies without missing a beat, his smirk deepening. “But don’t worry, you make frequent appearances. Very flattering ones, I might add.”

You roll your eyes so hard you’re surprised they don’t pop out of your skull. “How do you even fit through doorways with an ego that big?”

“I manage,” he says with a wink, strolling closer to your workstation. You step in front of it, blocking his access, but he doesn’t stop, leaning in just enough to invade your space. His cologne is annoyingly pleasant, a mix of something warm and spicy that makes your nose betray you by liking it. “Come on, you’re telling me you don’t feel this… tension?”

“The only tension I feel is homicidal,” you deadpan.

“Hot,” he says, as if that’s a compliment, tilting his head to look at you like he’s assessing just how much he can push you before you snap. It’s a game to him, and you hate how good he is at it.

“Do you actually have a reason for being here,” you ask, “or are you just here to annoy me?”

“Who says it can’t be both?” He leans back against the counter, resting his elbows on it as he watches you with infuriatingly amused eyes. “But if you must know, Reed wants to see us in the conference room. Something about a mission briefing.”

“And he sent you to get me?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “Was no one else available?”

“Oh, he sent Ben first,” Johnny says, grinning. “But I told him I’d handle it. Figured you’d appreciate the company.”

“Right,” you mutter, grabbing your tools and tossing them into your kit. “Let’s get this over with.”

As you brush past him, he falls into step beside you, his presence like an annoying shadow that won’t go away. The elevator ride to the conference room is painfully silent, though you can feel him watching you the entire time. It takes every ounce of willpower not to snap at him, not to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he irritates you.

When the doors open, you stride out ahead of him, eager to put some distance between you. But Johnny, being Johnny, catches up effortlessly, his long strides matching yours.

“You know,” he says, his voice low enough that only you can hear, “I think this whole ‘hating me’ thing is just a cover.”

“For what?” you ask, not bothering to hide the exasperation in your tone.

“For how badly you want me,” he replies, his grin practically criminal. “It’s okay. You don’t have to fight it.”

You stop in your tracks, turning to face him with a glare that could cut through steel. He stops too, clearly relishing the reaction, his hands shoved casually into his pockets.

“Johnny,” you say, your voice icy, “if I wanted you, you’d know it. Because I’d be dead. From shame.”

For a split second, there’s a flicker of something in his expression—surprise, maybe—but then it’s gone, replaced by that insufferable grin again. “Ouch,” he says, clutching his chest like you’ve wounded him. “I didn’t realize you cared so much.”

“I don’t,” you snap, turning on your heel and storming into the conference room.

Of course, Johnny follows, but he doesn’t say anything more. Not until you’re all seated around the table, Reed diving into a detailed explanation of the energy anomalies that have been popping up in the city. You’re trying to focus, taking notes on your tablet, but you can feel Johnny’s gaze on you again. It’s like a physical weight, burning against your skin, and it takes everything in you not to whip around and tell him to knock it off.

When the meeting finally ends, you practically bolt for the door, but Johnny catches up to you again, falling into step beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Hey,” he says, his tone softer now, less teasing. It’s almost disarming, and you glance at him warily.

“What?”

“You okay?” he asks, and for a moment, you think he might actually be serious.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you reply, narrowing your eyes.

He shrugs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Just checking. You seemed… tense.”

You stop walking, turning to face him with a frown. “Are you messing with me again?”

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, but there’s something almost genuine in his expression now. “Not this time. Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout,” you point out.

“Details,” he says with a shrug, and just like that, the moment is gone, replaced by his usual smirk. “But seriously, if you ever need to blow off some steam…” He lets the sentence hang in the air, his tone laced with innuendo, and you groan.

“You’re impossible,” you mutter, walking away before he can say anything else.

But as you make your way back to the lab, you can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to Johnny than the cocky exterior he projects. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud. Because if there’s one thing you know for certain, it’s that Johnny Storm is the last person you’d ever want to… feel anything for. Right?

The mission is straightforward in theory but chaotic in execution—par for the course when Johnny Storm is involved. A rogue tech company has been messing with unstable energy sources, creating erratic power surges across the city. Reed’s plan is for Ben and Johnny to infiltrate the lab while Sue provides cover and you, stationed at HQ with a direct link to the team, guide them through it.

“Johnny, focus,” you snap into the earpiece as he sprints ahead of Ben for the fifth time. “You’re going to trip an alarm.”

“Relax, sweetheart,” he replies, his voice annoyingly breezy. “I’ve got this.”

You grit your teeth, fingers flying across the keyboard as you monitor their progress. “I’m not your sweetheart. And if you ‘got this,’ you wouldn’t need me to tell you that there’s a motion sensor three feet ahead of you.”

Johnny pauses just in time, glancing around until he spots the small device in the corner. “See? Teamwork makes the dream work.”

“Just shut up and follow Ben,” you mutter.

“I think she likes me,” Johnny says, undoubtedly grinning. You can hear the smirk in his tone, and it makes your blood boil.

“Johnny,” Sue’s voice cuts in, sharp and no-nonsense. “Stop antagonizing her and get back on task.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Johnny replies, sounding far too pleased with himself.

Despite his antics, the mission goes smoothly. Ben tears through the reinforced doors like they’re made of cardboard, Johnny disables the main console with a burst of fire, and Sue uses her force fields to contain the energy surges until Reed’s stabilization device is activated. By the time they’re back at HQ, everything is under control.

“Well done, team,” Reed says, smiling as he powers down the main systems. “That could’ve been much worse.”

“Yeah, thanks to me,” Johnny says, striding into the room like he’s just saved the world single-handedly. He winks at you as he passes. “Don’t worry, I’ll let you buy me a drink as a thank-you.”

You snort. “In your dreams, Storm.”

“Every night,” he shoots back without missing a beat.

Later, when the adrenaline wears off, someone suggests a celebration. It’s unclear who, but you suspect Johnny has something to do with it because before you know it, the common area is transformed into a makeshift party space. Reed grumbles about the amount of alcohol, but Sue waves him off, promising to keep an eye on things.

You don’t intend to drink much—just enough to relax after the chaos of the day—but Johnny, of course, has other plans.

“You’re way too sober,” he declares, plopping onto the couch beside you with a beer in hand. “Come on, live a little.”

“I’m fine,” you reply, taking a small sip of your drink.

“Nope,” he says, grabbing a shot glass and pouring you something that smells like regret. “One shot. For me. As a thank-you for not letting me die out there.”

“Pretty sure I deserve the thanks,” you retort, but you take the shot anyway, if only to shut him up.

It’s a mistake. The burn of the alcohol hits you hard, and Johnny’s triumphant grin only fuels your annoyance. But then another shot follows, and another, until you lose count. Somewhere along the way, the tension between you and Johnny shifts. The teasing is still there, but it’s less biting, more playful. You’re laughing at his ridiculous jokes, and he’s leaning closer, his knee brushing against yours.

“You know,” he says, his voice lower than usual, “you’re kind of fun when you loosen up.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you reply, though your tone lacks its usual sharpness.

The party starts to wind down, with Ben carrying a passed-out Reed to his room and Sue calling it a night. You and Johnny, however, remain on the couch, the space between you shrinking with each passing minute. The alcohol buzz makes you bold, and before you realize what you’re doing, you’re leaning toward him.

“Did you just...” He blinks at you, his expression somewhere between surprised and amused. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Maybe,” you say, emboldened by the warmth in your veins. “What are you gonna do about it?”

His grin turns downright wicked. “Oh, I can think of a few things.”

And then he’s kissing you. It’s sudden and electric, his lips capturing yours with a heat that leaves you breathless. You respond instinctively, your hands tangling in his hair as he deepens the kiss. It’s messy and uncoordinated at first, both of you too drunk to be graceful, but the intensity makes up for it. His hands find your waist, pulling you closer until you’re practically in his lap.

“You’ve been driving me crazy, you know that?” he mutters against your lips, his voice husky.

“Right back at you,” you reply, tugging his shirt up over his head.

Somehow, you end up in his room, the walk there a blur of stolen kisses and clumsy touches. By the time you reach the bed, you’re both breathless, your clothes scattered across the floor. Johnny is surprisingly gentle, his hands exploring your skin like he’s committing every inch of you to memory. But there’s still that cocky edge to him, the teasing smirk that never quite leaves his face.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“Because you’re insufferable,” you manage to say, though the words lack conviction when his mouth finds the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“Mm, and yet here we are,” he replies, his grin evident against your skin.

The rest of the night is a blur of heat and intensity, a tangle of limbs and whispered confessions you’ll barely remember in the morning. All you know is that, for once, you don’t hate Johnny Storm. At least not entirely.

You wake slowly, your senses hazy and dulled by what must have been way too much alcohol last night. Your head throbs faintly, and the warm, soft cocoon of blankets threatens to lull you back into unconsciousness. For a brief moment, everything feels peaceful.

And then you realize there’s an arm draped across your stomach.

Your eyes snap open, and the first thing you notice is that you’re not in your own bed. The second thing is that someone’s pressed against you, their face nuzzled into your chest. You blink rapidly, trying to process the situation, but your sluggish brain takes its sweet time piecing things together.

The arm is muscular, the weight of it familiar in a way that makes your cheeks flush. And then there’s the golden blond hair brushing against your collarbone, the faint scent of cologne mixed with... smoke?

Oh. Oh, no.

Johnny Storm is sprawled across you, completely naked, his legs tangled with yours beneath the sheets.

Your breath hitches, and you freeze, trying not to move or make a sound. But the realization hits you like a freight train: You slept with Johnny Storm. You slept with Johnny freaking Storm.

Panic rises in your chest as fragmented memories of the night before come flooding back. The party, the drinks, the teasing banter that had somehow turned into a kiss... and then more. A lot more. Your face burns as you remember the feel of his hands on your skin, the way he’d looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

You’re mortified.

“Oh my God,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

Unfortunately, it’s just loud enough to wake him.

Johnny stirs against you, letting out a sleepy groan as he shifts slightly. His arm tightens around you, and he murmurs something unintelligible before finally lifting his head to look at you through half-lidded eyes. His expression is groggy at first, but then a slow, lazy grin spreads across his face as realization dawns.

“Well, good morning,” he says, his voice husky with sleep.

You stare at him, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “I—what—why are you—”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your flustered state. “You’re gonna have to use words, sweetheart.”

“Johnny!” you hiss, yanking the blanket up to your chest as if that’ll somehow fix this. “What the hell happened?!”

He chuckles, completely unbothered by the situation—or his nakedness, for that matter. Propping himself up on one elbow, he watches you with an infuriatingly smug expression. “You really don’t remember?”

Your face feels like it’s on fire. “I remember... bits,” you admit reluctantly, avoiding his gaze.

“Well, let me fill in the gaps,” he says, leaning closer. His grin is downright sinful now, and you want to smack it off his face. “You couldn’t keep your hands off me. Not that I blame you, of course. I mean, look at me.”

“Stop talking,” you snap, shoving him away and scooting to the edge of the bed. Your heart is pounding, and you feel like you might actually die of embarrassment.

Johnny doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, lying back against the pillows with his hands behind his head. The sheets pool around his hips, and you make a point of looking anywhere but at him.

“Come on,” he says, his tone teasing. “It’s not the end of the world. We had fun, didn’t we?”

“That’s not the point!” you say, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “This shouldn’t have happened. It was a mistake.”

The word wipes the grin off his face, and for a moment, he looks almost... disappointed. But then he shrugs, his usual cocky demeanor slipping back into place. “If you say so.”

You scramble to find your clothes, pulling them on as quickly as possible. Your shirt is wrinkled beyond saving, and you can’t find one of your socks, but you don’t care. You just need to get out of here before anyone sees you leaving Johnny’s room.

“I think we should forget this ever happened,” you say firmly, not looking at him as you tug your shoes on.

“Forget?” he echoes, sitting up. “Really?”

“Yes,” you say, finally meeting his gaze. “It’s better for both of us if we just... pretend it didn’t happen.”

He studies you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nods, though there’s a flicker of something—disappointment? Annoyance?—in his eyes. “Fine. If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” you say, though the knot in your stomach suggests otherwise.

Grabbing your things, you head for the door, pausing only to glance back at him one last time. He’s still sitting there, the sheets draped loosely around his waist, watching you with an intensity that makes your breath catch. But you shake it off and leave, determined to put as much distance between you and this mess as possible.

The hallway is blessedly empty, and you make a beeline for your room, praying no one saw you. You don’t know how you’re going to face the team today—or Johnny, for that matter—but one thing is certain: you need a very, very strong cup of coffee.

You make it to the kitchen without running into anyone, thank God. The lingering buzz of alcohol in your system combined with the weight of what just happened makes your head feel like it’s caught in a vise. All you want is coffee—a steaming, bitter cup of something strong enough to drown out the memories of last night.

You pour yourself a mug, gripping it like a lifeline as you lean against the counter. The warmth seeps into your palms, grounding you.

But no matter how much caffeine you consume, you can’t shake the overwhelming wrongness of this morning. You slept with Johnny Storm. Johnny Storm. The most arrogant, insufferable, smug—

“Morning,” Sue’s cheerful voice interrupts your spiraling thoughts.

You nearly choke on your coffee as she walks in, looking fresh and chipper as ever. “Morning,” you manage, clearing your throat and trying not to sound guilty.

She eyes you curiously as she grabs a granola bar from the counter. “You look... tired. Did you stay up late?”

The memory of Johnny’s mouth on yours, his hands roaming your body, flashes through your mind, and you nearly drop your mug. “Uh, yeah,” you say, forcing a tight smile. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Sue frowns, concerned. “Are you okay? You look kind of... flushed.”

You take a long sip of coffee to buy yourself some time. “I’m fine,” you say quickly. “Just... had a lot on my mind.”

Her concern doesn’t waver, but thankfully, she doesn’t press the issue. “Well, let me know if you need anything,” she says, her tone warm.

You nod, grateful for the out. “Thanks, Sue. I’m good.”

She flashes you a smile and heads off, leaving you alone with your thoughts once again. You let out a shaky breath, your shoulders slumping.

This is going to be hell.

The rest of the morning passes in a blur. You manage to avoid Johnny, though the tension gnawing at your gut doesn’t let up. When lunchtime rolls around, you reluctantly join the team in the common area, knowing it’ll look suspicious if you keep hiding.

Johnny’s already there when you walk in, lounging on the couch like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s laughing at something Ben said, his usual cocky grin firmly in place. For a brief, insane moment, you wonder if he’s already forgotten about this morning.

But then his gaze flicks to you, and for the briefest second, something unreadable passes over his face. It’s gone as quickly as it came, replaced by his usual teasing smirk.

“Hey, there’s Sleeping Beauty,” he calls out, leaning back with his arms draped over the couch. “Rough night?”

Your stomach twists, but you force yourself to act normal. “No rougher than yours, I’m sure,” you reply, taking a seat as far from him as possible.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by your attempt at a poker face. “Oh, I don’t know. I think I slept pretty well.”

You glare at him, your jaw tightening. You’re this close to throwing something at his stupid, smug face, but Sue and Reed are right there, oblivious to the subtext.

Johnny doesn’t push further, but you catch him stealing glances at you throughout lunch. It’s maddening—he’s acting like nothing happened, like you didn’t wake up with him draped over you this morning. And somehow, that makes it worse.

The next few days follow the same infuriating pattern. Johnny keeps up his usual antics, teasing and flirting like always, but there’s no hint that he’s holding anything over your head. If anything, he seems to be going out of his way to act normal.

You, on the other hand, are a mess. Every time he smirks at you, every time he makes a stupid comment or throws a casual wink in your direction, you’re reminded of how his lips felt on yours, how his skin felt beneath your hands.

It’s impossible to focus.

It’s especially bad when you’re around Sue. Every time she talks to you, the guilt gnaws at your insides like a living thing. She’s so kind, so thoughtful, and here you are, harboring the world’s most awkward secret about her brother.

“You’ve been distracted lately,” she says one afternoon while the two of you are reviewing some mission protocols.

You freeze, your pen hovering over the paper in front of you. “What? No, I’m fine.”

Sue gives you a skeptical look. “Really? Because you’ve been zoning out all week.”

“I’m just tired,” you say quickly, forcing a smile.

She doesn’t look convinced, but she lets it go.

Johnny, of course, doesn’t make things any easier. If anything, he seems to enjoy your discomfort. He keeps teasing you in front of the others, his remarks innocuous enough that no one else picks up on them, but laced with just enough subtext to make your cheeks burn.

“Y/N, you’re blushing,” he says one day during a training session, his grin infuriatingly smug. “What, can’t handle the heat?”

You grit your teeth, resisting the urge to throw something at him. “I’m fine,” you snap.

“Oh, I know you are,” he replies, his tone dripping with innuendo.

Sue smacks him on the arm. “Johnny, leave her alone.”

“What?” he says innocently, holding up his hands. “I’m just being supportive.”

Your hands curl into fists, but you force yourself to take a deep breath. If he can act like nothing happened, then so can you.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

But the truth is, you’re not sure how much longer you can keep this up. Every time Johnny looks at you, every time he makes a stupid joke or flashes that infuriating grin, you’re reminded of what happened—and of the fact that, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to forget.

It’s nearly midnight, and the quiet hum of the compound settles over you like a blanket. Everyone else is in their rooms, the lights dimmed, the hallways silent. You’re in your own room, pacing back and forth, chewing on your bottom lip as your thoughts race.

For days, the tension has been unbearable. Every teasing glance, every cocky smirk, every stolen look from Johnny is like a fire lit under your skin. And it’s not just him—your body betrays you every time you see him. It’s as if something deep and primal has been unleashed, and no matter how much you try to push it down, it refuses to be ignored.

It’s not just physical, either. Not entirely. The frustration you feel isn’t just because of the way Johnny looks at you—it’s because of the way you look at him, the way he gets to you like no one else. You’ve always clashed, your personalities like fire and ice, but somehow, that spark has turned into something neither of you seems able to control.

You’re sick of it. Sick of pretending it didn’t happen, sick of the way your pulse quickens when he’s around, sick of the way he acts like it doesn’t affect him when it so clearly does.

You can’t keep doing this.

The idea strikes you so suddenly it almost makes you stop pacing. It’s reckless, impulsive, probably insane—but it’s the only way you can see out of this mess.

You grab a hoodie, throwing it on over your pajamas, and quietly open your door. The hallways are dark, the compound silent except for the faint hum of the ventilation system. You tiptoe down the corridor, your heart pounding in your chest.

Johnny’s room is at the far end of the hall. You pause outside his door, your hand hovering over the handle.

This is a terrible idea, a voice in your head whispers.

But the tension inside you, the frustration that’s been building for days, drowns it out. You knock lightly, barely loud enough to be heard.

For a moment, there’s no response. Then you hear footsteps, and the door swings open to reveal Johnny, shirtless and disheveled, his blond hair sticking up in every direction. He blinks at you, clearly surprised.

“Y/N?” he says, his voice husky with sleep. “What are you doing here?”

You glance over your shoulder, making sure no one else is around, before stepping into his room and shutting the door behind you.

“Uh, come on in, I guess,” he says, his brow furrowed in confusion.

You turn to face him, your stomach twisting with nerves. “I need to talk to you.”

He raises an eyebrow, leaning casually against the wall. “This late? Couldn’t wait until morning?”

“No,” you say, your voice firmer than you expect. “I... I can’t do this anymore.”

His expression shifts slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “Do what?”

“This,” you say, gesturing between the two of you. “The pretending. The acting like nothing happened. I can’t—I can’t focus, I can’t think straight. Every time I see you, I—” You cut yourself off, taking a deep breath.

Johnny’s watching you intently now, all traces of his usual cocky demeanor gone. “You what?” he prompts, his voice softer.

You swallow hard. “I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. And I know you can’t either.”

His lips part slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “What makes you so sure?”

“Because you look at me like...” You trail off, shaking your head. “Like you want me just as much as I want you.”

There’s a beat of silence, heavy and charged. Then Johnny takes a step closer, his eyes locked on yours. “So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying...” You hesitate, your heart pounding. “We’re clearly bad at ignoring this. So maybe we stop trying.”

He blinks, clearly caught off guard. “Are you... proposing what I think you’re proposing?”

“Yes,” you say quickly, before you lose your nerve. “But just... as a way to get this out of our systems. No strings, no complications. Just... physical.”

Johnny’s mouth quirks into a half-smile, but there’s something serious in his gaze. “You want to be frenemies with benefits?”

You nod, your cheeks burning. “Exactly.”

He stares at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours. Then his lips curve into that familiar cocky grin, the one that’s equal parts infuriating and irresistible. “Well, I’m not one to say no to a good idea.”

You exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “Good. So we’re on the same page.”

“Crystal clear,” he says, stepping closer until there’s barely an inch between you. “And, uh... are we starting this now?”

Your pulse quickens at the heat in his gaze, the way his voice drops just slightly. “Yes,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t waste any time. One second he’s standing there, and the next his lips are on yours, claiming your mouth with a hunger that makes your knees weak. You kiss him back just as fiercely, your hands tangling in his hair as he presses you against the wall.

There’s no hesitation this time, no awkward fumbling or second-guessing. His hands slide under your hoodie, pulling it off in one smooth motion before his lips trail down your neck. You shiver, your body arching into him as his hands explore your skin with a reverence that makes your breath catch.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmurs against your collarbone, his voice low and rough.

You tug at his sweatpants, your hands roaming over the planes of his chest as he lifts you off the ground and carries you to the bed.

It’s fast and frenzied at first, the pent-up tension between you spilling over in a way that’s almost overwhelming. But then Johnny slows down, his movements deliberate and almost tender as he takes his time with you.

“You sure about this?” he asks, his voice barely more than a whisper as his forehead rests against yours.

“Yes,” you breathe, your hands gripping his shoulders. “Don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t.

It’s been two weeks since that night, two weeks of sneaking around, stolen moments, and whispered promises to “keep this strictly physical.” You tell yourself it’s working, that the arrangement is simple, no-strings-attached. But Johnny Storm is nothing if not difficult—especially when it comes to playing by the rules.

From the moment you agreed to this, Johnny made it his mission to test your self-control. It’s not just that he’s insatiable—though, God help you, he is. It’s the way he looks at you across the room, the way his hand brushes against yours when no one else is looking, the way he finds excuses to get you alone.

It’s maddening.

“Johnny,” you hiss one afternoon as he corners you in the hallway, his hands sliding around your waist. “Someone could see us.”

“Relax,” he says, grinning as he presses a kiss to your neck. “They’re all in the lab. We’ve got at least ten minutes.”

“That’s not the point,” you say, trying—and failing—to push him away. “We’re supposed to be discreet.”

“I am being discreet,” he says, nipping at your earlobe.

You let out an exasperated sigh, but your resolve weakens when his lips find yours, hot and demanding. You kiss him back, your hands fisting in his shirt as he backs you against the wall.

“Johnny—”

“Five minutes,” he murmurs against your lips. “That’s all I need.”

He’s impossible. But the worst part is, you don’t really want him to stop.

You manage to pull yourself together just in time, slipping out of the hallway and pretending nothing happened when you join the others in the common area. Sue glances up from her tablet as you walk in, smiling brightly.

“Hey, Y/N. You look... flushed,” she says, tilting her head.

“I just... went for a run,” you lie, avoiding Johnny’s amused smirk from across the room.

Sue nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer, and goes back to her work. You shoot Johnny a warning glare, but he just winks at you, completely unapologetic.

This is your life now—trying to keep a straight face while Johnny flirts with you like it’s a sport, all while pretending to everyone else that nothing’s going on.

It’s exhausting.

But somehow, you make it work. You keep your secret, sneaking into his room late at night and slipping back to yours before anyone wakes up. You convince yourself that it’s fine, that you’re in control.

Until she shows up.

It happens one afternoon during a team briefing. You’re sitting at the table, half-listening to Reed drone on about mission logistics, when you notice her. A stunning redhead in a sleek leather jacket, leaning casually against the doorway with a confidence that makes your stomach twist.

Johnny notices her, too.

“Amelia,” he says, his grin widening as he gets up to greet her.

“Johnny,” she replies, her voice smooth as silk.

They hug, and you feel something sharp lodge itself in your chest. She’s gorgeous, the kind of woman who looks like she belongs in a movie, and the way Johnny looks at her—like they have history—makes your stomach churn.

You force yourself to look away, focusing on the papers in front of you as Sue introduces Amelia to the team. Apparently, she’s a freelance operative Reed hired to help with the next mission.

Great.

Johnny spends the rest of the briefing sitting next to her, laughing at her jokes and leaning in just a little too close. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter, that you don’t care. This is what you signed up for, after all—no strings, no jealousy, no feelings.

But when Amelia laughs at something Johnny says, her hand resting briefly on his arm, you feel a surge of something hot and bitter rise in your chest.

You’re jealous.

The realization hits you like a freight train, and you hate it. You hate that you care, that you’re sitting here stewing over Johnny Storm like some lovesick teenager.

After the briefing, you make a beeline for your room, needing to put some distance between yourself and whatever’s happening downstairs.

Johnny catches up to you later that night, slipping into your room like he always does.

“You okay?” he asks, his brow furrowed as he sits on the edge of your bed. “You seemed... off today.”

“I’m fine,” you say, avoiding his gaze.

He doesn’t look convinced. “You sure? Because you’ve been weird since Amelia showed up.”

At the mention of her name, your stomach tightens. “I said I’m fine,” you snap, sharper than you intended.

Johnny raises an eyebrow, leaning back slightly. “Whoa. Where’s that coming from?”

“Nowhere,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “I’m just tired.”

He studies you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “Alright,” he says finally. “If you say so.”

But as he leans in to kiss you, you can’t help but pull away.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice soft.

“Nothing,” you lie, forcing a smile. “I’m just... not in the mood tonight.”

Johnny looks surprised, but he doesn’t push. “Okay,” he says, standing up. “I’ll leave you alone, then.”

He hesitates for a moment, like he wants to say something else, but then he nods and slips out of the room.

As soon as he’s gone, you bury your face in your hands, your heart aching in a way you don’t understand.

You signed up for this. You knew what you were getting into.

So why does it hurt so much to see him with someone else?

The days that follow are torture. Johnny spends more and more time with Amelia, laughing and joking with her in a way that feels too familiar. You do your best to act normal, but it’s impossible to ignore the way your chest tightens every time you see them together.

And Johnny notices.

He corners you in the hallway one night, his expression serious. “Alright, what’s going on with you?”

“Nothing,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Don’t give me that,” he says, stepping closer. “You’ve been acting weird all week. Did I do something?”

You shake your head, avoiding his gaze. “It’s nothing, Johnny. Just drop it.”

He doesn’t move, his eyes searching yours. “Is this about Amelia?”

Your stomach twists, but you force yourself to keep a neutral expression. “Why would it be about her?”

“I don’t know,” he says, his voice laced with frustration. “You tell me.”

You don’t answer, your silence stretching between you like a chasm.

Johnny sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, if something’s bothering you, just say it. I’m not a mind reader.”

You bite your lip, the words on the tip of your tongue, but you can’t bring yourself to say them.

Instead, you shake your head. “It’s nothing. Forget it.”

Johnny stares at you for a long moment, his jaw tight. Then he nods, stepping back. “Fine. Have it your way.”

He turns and walks away, leaving you standing there with your heart in your throat.

You tell yourself it’s better this way, that keeping your feelings to yourself is the right thing to do.

But as the days go on, you can’t help but wonder how much longer you can keep lying to yourself—and to him.

You’re pacing your room, your mind spinning, your chest tight with a cocktail of frustration and jealousy. The events of the day replay in your head like a broken record.

Amelia had been all over Johnny again—laughing at his jokes, leaning into his personal space, finding every excuse to touch his arm or shoulder. And Johnny, the infuriating, cocky idiot, seemed to revel in it.

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter. You remind yourself of the rules, of the arrangement you agreed to. No strings. No feelings. But those reminders crumble under the weight of the knot in your stomach, the jealousy burning through you like wildfire.

By the time night falls, you’re at your breaking point. You can’t think straight, can’t focus on anything except the need to release all this tension, to let go of the frustration clawing at your chest.

Without giving yourself time to second-guess, you grab your hoodie and storm out of your room, your feet carrying you down the hall before your brain can catch up. You don’t bother knocking when you reach Johnny’s door—you push it open and step inside, your heart pounding in your chest.

Johnny looks up from his bed, where he’s lounging with his phone in hand. He’s shirtless, of course, because why wouldn’t he be? He always seems to know how to test your self-control.

“Y/N?” he says, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What’s going on?”

You close the door behind you, leaning back against it as you meet his gaze. “I need to blow off some steam,” you say, your voice sharper than you intended.

Johnny raises an eyebrow, sitting up slightly. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. “And you’re going to help me.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, clearly taken aback. Then a slow, knowing smile spreads across his face. “Well, I’m not one to say no to a lady in need.”

You roll your eyes, pushing off the door and crossing the room to stand in front of him. “Less talking, more doing,” you mutter, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

Johnny doesn’t need any more encouragement. His hands find your hips, pulling you into his lap as he kisses you back with a hunger that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Someone’s feisty tonight,” he murmurs against your lips, his hands sliding under your hoodie.

“Shut up,” you say, pulling it off and tossing it to the side.

His grin widens, but he does as he’s told, his hands roaming over your skin as you straddle him. You kiss him fiercely, your fingers tangling in his hair as you press your body against his.

When he tries to flip you onto your back, you stop him, pushing him back down onto the bed.

“Not this time,” you say, your voice low and firm.

Johnny looks up at you, his eyes darkening with surprise and something else—something hotter, deeper. “Yes, ma’am,” he says, his lips quirking into a small smirk.

You roll your eyes again, but you can’t deny the rush of satisfaction at the way he looks at you, the way he lets you take control.

And for the first time, you do. You take your time, exploring every inch of him with your hands and lips, savoring the way he responds to your touch. Johnny, for all his usual bravado, seems to love it—his hands gripping your thighs, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps as you take him apart.

“Damn,” he murmurs, his voice rough. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Shut up,” you say again, but there’s no heat in your words.

When it’s over, you collapse onto his chest, both of you breathing heavily. Johnny wraps his arms around you, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your back as you both come down from the high.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. Then Johnny breaks the silence. “I think I like you on top,” he says, his voice teasing.

You groan, burying your face in his neck. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it,” he says, his lips brushing against your temple.

You don’t respond, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

After a few minutes, Johnny shifts beneath you. “Come on,” he says, sitting up and pulling you with him. “Let’s take a bath.”

“A bath?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” he says, standing up and stretching. “You know, to relax. Blow off the rest of that steam.”

You shake your head, but you follow him into the bathroom, your curiosity piqued.

Johnny starts the water, adding some soap that creates a light layer of bubbles. The bathroom is warm and steamy, the faint scent of lavender filling the air.

“Fancy,” you say, leaning against the counter as you watch him.

“Only the best,” he says with a wink, stepping into the tub and holding out a hand to you.

You hesitate for a moment, but then you take his hand and let him pull you in. The water is hot, the perfect contrast to the cool air of the room, and you sink into it with a sigh.

Johnny pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you as you rest your head against his chest.

“This is nice,” you admit, your voice soft.

“Told you,” he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You close your eyes, letting yourself relax in his arms. For a moment, everything else fades away—the jealousy, the frustration, the complicated mess of feelings you’ve been trying to ignore.

When the water starts to cool, you both get out and dry off, slipping back into bed together. Johnny pulls you close, his body warm and solid against yours as he drapes an arm over your waist.

“You staying the night?” he asks, his voice low and drowsy.

“Yeah,” you say, surprising yourself with how easily the word comes out.

“Good,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

As you drift off to sleep, you can’t help but wonder how long you can keep pretending this is just a casual arrangement. Because when Johnny holds you like this, when he looks at you with something soft and unguarded in his eyes, it feels like so much more.

It’s early morning, the sun barely peeking through the edges of the curtains as you make your way to Johnny’s room. You’d spent the night tossing and turning in your own bed, your thoughts constantly drifting back to him, to the way his hands felt on your skin, to the sound of his voice murmuring your name.

You’re not sure why you’re up this early or why you feel the need to see him now, but the pull toward him is irresistible.

As you turn the corner and approach his door, you freeze.

Amelia is stepping out of Johnny’s room, her hair slightly tousled, her jacket slung over one shoulder. She doesn’t see you right away, but when she does, her eyes widen slightly, and an awkward, almost guilty expression crosses her face.

“Morning,” she says, her voice light but strained.

You don’t respond, your gaze darting past her to the door she just closed.

“I, uh, should get going,” she says, brushing past you quickly and disappearing down the hallway.

You stand there for a moment, your mind racing. Your chest feels tight, your stomach churning with a mix of anger and something far more painful.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you push open Johnny’s door and step inside.

He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, shirtless and still half-asleep, his hair a mess of golden strands. When he sees you, he blinks in surprise.

“Y/N? What are you doing up so early?”

“What was she doing here?” you demand, your voice sharper than you intended.

Johnny frowns, clearly confused. “Who?”

“Amelia,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. “I just saw her leaving your room.”

Realization dawns on his face, and instead of explaining himself, he has the audacity to smirk. “Jealous, are we?”

“Don’t,” you say, your voice trembling. “Don’t make this a joke.”

The smile fades from his lips, and he stands, his expression softening as he steps closer to you. “Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

“Oh, so she just happened to wander into your room at the crack of dawn?” you interrupt, your anger masking the hurt that’s clawing at your chest. “We’re supposed to be just physical, remember? So I guess it doesn’t matter who else you’re screwing.”

“Hey,” Johnny says firmly, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders. “That’s not what’s happening here. Just... let me explain, okay?”

You glare at him but don’t pull away, your chest heaving as you try to keep your emotions in check.

“She came to my room because she wanted to talk to me before she left,” he says, his voice calm and steady. “The mission ended yesterday, and she’s heading out of town. She wanted to... confess her feelings or something.”

You swallow hard, your throat tight. “And? What did you say?”

Johnny looks at you, his eyes searching yours, and for the first time, you see something raw and unguarded in his expression. “I told her I wasn’t interested,” he says softly. “I told her there’s someone else.”

Your heart clenches painfully at his words, and you shake your head, stepping back. “Don’t do this,” you whisper, your voice cracking.

“Do what?” he asks, his brow furrowing.

“Don’t lie to me,” you say, your hands balling into fists at your sides. “Don’t say there’s someone else just to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying,” he says, his voice firm.

You shake your head again, tears stinging your eyes. “Then who is it, Johnny? Who’s so special that you’d turn down Amelia?”

He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to tilt your chin up so you’re forced to meet his gaze. “It’s you,” he says simply.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you blink up at him, your heart racing. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he says, a small, almost sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “It’s always been you. I just... I didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t want to scare you off.”

You stare at him, your mind reeling. “Johnny...”

“I know this wasn’t supposed to be anything serious,” he continues, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “But I can’t help it, Y/N. I’m crazy about you.”

Your resolve crumbles, and a tear slips down your cheek. “You’re such an idiot,” you say, your voice shaky.

He chuckles softly, his hands cupping your face. “I know. But you like me anyway.”

You laugh weakly, the sound half-choked by a sob, and before you can think twice, you throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss.

This kiss is different—softer, slower, free of the urgency and heat that usually defines your moments together. It’s tender and meaningful, a silent confession of everything you’ve both been too scared to say.

When you finally pull back, your foreheads resting together, you can’t help but tease him. “So... does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?”

Johnny grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Guess it does.”

“Good,” you say, poking his chest. “Because that means no more flirting with other women.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, his tone sincere.

You smile, your heart feeling lighter than it has in weeks. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Yeah,” he says, pulling you closer. “But I’m yours.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, and before you know it, his lips are on yours again, this time with more passion, more intensity. He backs you toward the bed, his hands exploring your body with a reverence that makes your breath hitch.

For the first time, there’s no rush, no frantic need to prove something. Every touch, every kiss feels deliberate, like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you.

When he lays you down on the bed, his gaze is so full of love and adoration that it nearly takes your breath away.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck.

“Johnny,” you whisper, your fingers threading through his hair.

“I’m yours,” he says again, his voice rough with emotion. “Only yours.”

The words send a surge of warmth through you, and you pull him closer, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

It’s different this time—not just physical, but emotional, intimate in a way that leaves you both vulnerable.

When it’s over, you lie tangled together, your head resting on his chest as his fingers trace lazy patterns on your back.

“Hey, Y/N,” he says softly, his voice laced with exhaustion and contentment.

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

Your heart swells, and you tilt your head up to look at him. “I love you too,” you say, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Johnny grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Told you you’d fall for me eventually.”

You laugh, smacking his chest lightly. “Shut up, Storm.”

He pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you as he presses another kiss to your lips.

It starts with Susan. Of course, it’s Susan.

You and Johnny had managed to keep your relationship quiet for a few days, sneaking kisses in the hallway, exchanging soft touches when no one was looking, and giving each other the occasional longing glance that lingered a bit too long. But when you’re both together as much as you are with the team, there’s only so much you can hide.

Susan is perceptive to the point of being almost psychic when it comes to her brother. That morning, as you and Johnny are sitting together at the breakfast table, laughing at something stupid he just said, her eyes narrow slightly.

“You two,” she says suddenly, pointing her spoon at both of you, “are acting... different.”

Johnny freezes mid-bite, his eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights. You, on the other hand, nearly choke on your coffee.

“Different?” you say, trying to play it cool. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You do realize I’ve known Johnny my entire life, right?” Susan says, crossing her arms. “He’s never looked at anyone the way he’s looking at you right now.”

Johnny smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Can you blame me? Look at her.”

You glare at him, smacking his arm lightly. “You’re not helping.”

Susan’s mouth falls open slightly, her eyes flicking between the two of you. “Wait. Are you... are you two... together?”

Johnny grins, his hand finding yours under the table. “Yup.”

“Johnny!” you hiss, smacking him again.

“What? She was going to figure it out eventually,” he says with a shrug.

Susan looks stunned for a moment, then her expression softens into something warm and almost maternal. “I knew it,” she says, a smile spreading across her face.

“You knew it?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course I did,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Do you have any idea how obvious you two have been? The way you bickered all the time, the way you couldn’t keep your eyes off each other when you thought no one was looking...”

Johnny snickers. “Guess we weren’t as sneaky as we thought.”

“You were terrible at being sneaky,” Susan says, shaking her head. “But... I’m happy for you. Really. You deserve to be happy.”

Her words catch you off guard, and you feel a lump forming in your throat. “Thanks, Susan,” you say softly.

She smiles, then looks at Johnny with a mock-serious expression. “But if you screw this up, Johnny, I swear—”

“Relax, Sis,” Johnny says, holding up his hands. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Susan nods, satisfied, then turns her attention back to her breakfast.

But, of course, the moment doesn’t end there.

As if on cue, Ben stomps into the kitchen, followed closely by Reed, who’s balancing a mug of coffee in one hand and a clipboard in the other.

“Morning,” Ben grunts, reaching for a plate of pancakes.

“Morning,” you and Johnny say in unison, maybe a little too cheerfully.

Ben pauses, his rocky brow furrowing as he looks at the two of you. “What’s with you two?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly.

“Uh-huh,” Ben says, clearly unconvinced. He looks over at Susan, who’s struggling to hide a smile. “What’s going on?”

Susan shrugs, but there’s a mischievous glint in her eye. “Ask them.”

Ben turns his gaze back to you and Johnny, his eyes narrowing. “Spill it.”

Johnny sighs dramatically, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Fine. Y/N and I are together. Happy?”

Ben stares at you both for a moment, then bursts out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“I knew it!” Ben says, slapping his knee. “I told you, Reed! You owe me twenty bucks!”

Reed looks up from his clipboard, his expression thoughtful. “Technically, the bet was whether they’d get together before the end of the month, and it’s only the twentieth, so yes, I suppose I do owe you.”

“You bet on us?” you ask, your jaw dropping.

“Of course we did,” Ben says, grinning. “You two have been dancing around each other for months. It was only a matter of time.”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter, burying your face in your hands.

Johnny, on the other hand, looks delighted. “Wait, how much money are we talking here?”

“Don’t even think about it,” you say, elbowing him in the ribs.

Reed clears his throat, clearly trying to shift the conversation back to something less embarrassing. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s a good match,” he says, adjusting his glasses.

You blink at him, surprised. “You do?”

“Yes,” he says simply. “You balance each other out. Johnny needs someone who can challenge him, and you need someone who can... bring out your fun side.”

Johnny smirks, clearly pleased with himself. “Hear that? I’m good for you.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” you mutter, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

The rest of breakfast is filled with teasing and laughter, and by the end of it, you feel lighter than you have in days.

Later, as you’re walking back to your room, Johnny catches up with you, slipping his hand into yours.

“Well, that went better than I expected,” he says, grinning.

“You mean the part where they all knew already?” you say, raising an eyebrow.

Johnny laughs, pulling you closer. “Guess we’re not as good at hiding things as we thought.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “You’re lucky I love you, Storm.”

“Damn right I am,” he says, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

As you walk down the hallway together, hand in hand, you can’t help but feel like everything is finally falling into place.

For better or worse, this is your family now. And with Johnny by your side, you know you can handle anything that comes your way.

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lilmisshellfireswritingblog · 1 month ago

Text

Play With Fire - Johnny Storm x fem!Reader

Authors Note: Well, since we have officially been introduced to MCU Johnny Storm, here's a little one shot I wrote a month ago because I am absolutely feral for Johnny Storm. We don't know much about how he's going to be portrayed so, I used my imagination. I hope you enjoy!

PS: Smut is not my forte so I hope it's...satisfactory.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, contains adult content, DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT 18+, smut, lots of fire puns (I'm not sorry or maybe I am), lots of yapping

Pairings: Johnny Storm x fem!reader

Word Count: 6k+

The glimmering lights of the charity gala bathed the New York skyline in golden hues, casting long shadows on the sleek, chrome surfaces decorating the event. The décor was a striking blend of mid-century modern aesthetics—smooth, flowing lines, geometric shapes, and vibrant colors—reminiscent of a time when the future was just a few glamorous steps away and held a more optimistic approach.

You didn’t want to be here but there you were, trapped in a sea of tuxedos and satin gowns, your father’s arm draped possessively over your shoulder like a shield. It had been his idea to bring you along, of course, a desperate attempt to put up a "family-first" front after the affair rumor hit the front pages of The New York Post a week ago.

You hated galas. You hated the small talk, the polite smiles, and the thinly veiled gossip that filled the air. You hated the way your father’s overbearing presence had turned the night into a performance, with you as the unwilling starlet.

“I’ll only be a minute,” your father whispered to you, his fingers tightening around your arm in that way that said, don’t move. “Keep a smile on your face. This is important. Our family needs this.”

You barely suppressed a groan, nodding stiffly before he was off, mingling with the city's elite. His eyes, always sharp, locked onto the wealthy faces around him, like a predator hunting for its next meal.

You took a deep breath, turning away from the throng of people, hoping for a moment of solitude. The jazz band played in the background, their smooth melodies swirling in the air. You found yourself in the back corner, near a large glass window overlooking the city.

A tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped into the room, a confident swagger to his stride. Johnny Storm, better known to the world as the Human Torch, was hard to miss. His sharp blue eyes gleamed, his blonde hair tousled just enough to look casually effortless. He was, of course, dressed to the nines—a sleek black suit that hugged his athletic frame and a white shirt that gleamed in the ambient evening lights.

You knew who he was. Everyone did. His exploits were plastered across every major newspaper and the tabloids couldn’t get enough of his charisma and charm. He was a man of fire, literally and figuratively, the kind of person who seemed born for attention.

There was something different about him tonight. No flames. No flashy heroics. Just Johnny, looking slightly out of place amidst the formality of the gala.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes when he caught sight of you and flashed a grin, as if he’d spotted an old friend. “Well, well,” he said with a teasing smirk, his voice warm with amusement. “What’s a beautiful woman like you hiding in the corner all by herself? You look like you could use some company.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Not really,” you replied, crossing your arms as you leaned against the glass. “I’d rather be anywhere but here, to be honest.”

Johnny’s grin faltered for a split second, then he chuckled. “Yeah, I get that. These things can be a pain. All the smiles and the handshakes and small talk.” He leaned against the wall next to you, hands in his pockets. “You’re not here for the free drinks, then?”

You shook your head. “My father dragged me here. He thinks it’ll fix... everything.” You waved vaguely toward the sea of tuxedos and gowns. “But you know how it is—people with money can’t stand to be seen as anything less than perfect.”

“Yeah,” Johnny said, his tone thoughtful, as he glanced around. “I get the pressure. I mean, being a public figure comes with a lot of... expectations.” He flashed a grin, a little wry. “You’d be surprised how many charity galas I’ve attended for reasons that had nothing to do with actual charity.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “You? I would’ve guessed you'd be more of a ‘save the day, destroy the bad guys’ type.”

Johnny laughed, his expression softening as he pushed off the wall and stepped a little closer. “That’s mostly me, but tonight… tonight I’m just Johnny. No fire. No superpowers. Just a guy who’s probably as uncomfortable as you are.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “You know, I was thinking about ditching this whole thing and heading to a dive bar. Could be more fun. You in?”

Your lips twitched upward. “I’m supposed to be here for my father. This whole thing’s a mess.”

Johnny shrugged. “Tell you what then. When your father’s done playing the ‘perfect family’ game, I’ll swing by and whisk you away for some real fun. In the meantime, if you ever need a distraction, just holler for me, doll. I’m pretty good at getting people out of awkward situations.”

You met his gaze, amused and a little skeptical, but something about his laid-back confidence and easy charm made the idea tempting. "I'll keep that in mind," you said, your voice softer now.

Johnny’s eyes flickered over to the crowd for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. “You’re probably sick of being the center of attention,” he said quietly. “I get it. Sometimes you just need a break from all the... stuff.”

You gave a short, quiet laugh. “If only it were that easy.”

Johnny’s grin returned, this time a little softer, more genuine. “Well, if you need a superhero to make your night a little less superficial, you know where to find me.”

Before you could respond, he turned with a wink, slipping back into the crowd, disappearing into the sea of well-dressed faces.

You stayed where you were for a while longer, the sound of the gala and the distant jazz playing in the background. Johnny Storm, the Human Torch, was one of the last people you’d ever expect to feel any kind of kinship with, but for a few moments, he’d made you feel a little less trapped in the fake world your father had built around you.

And in a night full of forced smiles and shallow conversation, that small bit of genuine connection felt like a flicker of light in a sea of cold steel and polished chrome.

The gala was starting to wind down. The last glasses of champagne had been sipped, the tables cleared, and the final whispers of forced pleasantries echoed through the room. Yet, despite the event nearing its end, the energy hadn’t quite shifted. The jazz band had given way to a recorded track—a gritty, energetic tune that you instantly recognized.

"Play With Fire" by The Rolling Stones.

The heavy, seductive beat reverberated through the room, slinking through the air with a raw, untamed edge. It was unexpected. Unusual for a place that so carefully curated its atmosphere with smiles and good intentions. But there it was—one of the most rebellious songs of the time, now lacing the air, intoxicating and dangerous.

Somehow, as if it were fate, amidst the sea of tailored suits and glittering gowns, Johnny Storm appeared again, walking toward you like he had some kind of magnetic pull.

He flashed you a smile, his eyes gleaming under the cool, metallic lighting, his posture still effortless and relaxed despite the formality of the event. “Didn’t think they’d play this here,” he said, nodding toward the speakers, his voice amused. “I mean, talk about ruining the mood.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the deep growl of the guitar riff matching the beat of your heart. "Definitely not the kind of song you'd expect at a gala like this."

Johnny tilted his head slightly, the mischievous grin never leaving his face. “You know what? I’ve got an idea.” Without waiting for your response, he extended a hand toward you, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Dance with me.”

Your first instinct was to refuse. You weren’t in the mood for any more attention, and honestly, you didn’t dance. However, something about Johnny's easy confidence and charms, the casual way he dared you to step out of the perfectly controlled lines of this polished world, made you hesitate.

He wasn’t asking for anything extravagant, not some perfect ballroom spin or rehearsed routine. He was just... offering a moment.

For a heartbeat, you just stared at him. And then, as the chorus of “Play With Fire” blasted louder, you shrugged and took his hand. "Alright, Mr. Storm. Let’s see what you’ve got."

His grin spread even wider as he gently pulled you toward the center of the floor. The room seemed to narrow around you. Those who had been murmuring and sipping champagne suddenly halted as they took in the scene.

But you didn’t care. Not now.

Johnny’s hand rested lightly on your waist, his other still holding yours as the two of you moved together. The pulse of the song matched your quickening heartbeat, and, for once, you didn’t mind the eyes on you.

The music seemed to speak to both of you, something unrestrained and reckless—something wild that had been suppressed by all the proper rules of society. Johnny’s movements were smooth, fluid, and effortless. He had the confidence of a man who knew exactly how to make the world bend to his will, and yet, somehow, his presence didn’t feel as overwhelming as you would assume.

You stepped in time with him, your own body moving with a freedom you hadn’t expected. The lyrics about temptation and fire seemed to mirror the electrifying pull between you. There was something present that was dangerous but exhilarating. Forbidden but impossible to resist.

You looked up at him, half in surprise, half in something else you couldn’t quite name. His eyes flickered back to you, almost searching, but not in a way that made you uncomfortable. No, it was more like he was giving you the space to decide just how far you'd go, how far you'd let this wild, reckless moment carry you.

“You know,” Johnny said as he guided you through a slow turn, his voice low, “they say if you play with fire, you’re bound to get burned.”

You raised an eyebrow, the edges of your lips curling upward. "You know what they say about fire, right?" you teased, spinning under his arm. "It can warm you up just as easily as it can scorch you."

He gave you a roguish wink, pulling you close again as the song picked up speed. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

The world around you seemed to fade away as the music built in intensity. The room, the gala, the whispers��everything was irrelevant in that moment. All that existed was the two of you moving in sync to the rhythm, bodies close, the heat of his touch igniting a spark in you that you hadn’t expected.

The song surged toward its climax, the pounding drums pushing the beat faster, wilder. Johnny’s hand slipped lower to the small of your back, pulling you flush against him, and the space between you vanished entirely. You could feel the heat of him. His body was a living furnace against yours, the friction of his energy igniting something within you, something that had always been held in check by the carefully constructed life you’d been forced to live.

You danced like you were both on the edge of a cliff, teetering on the line between control and surrender. Johnny’s laugh was infectious as he spun you one last time, a wild, unrestrained sound that made you realize how much you’d been holding back all night. He twirled you back into his arms, the song roaring in your ears as you laughed.

The moment lingered there, suspended in time. A brief but intense escape from the world you’d known.

When the final notes of "Play With Fire" echoed through the room, you stood there, breathless and laughing softly, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Well,” Johnny said, grinning down at you like a devil. “I think we’re both burned.”

You caught your breath, a little dizzy from the rush but you didn’t mind. “Yeah. Maybe. But it was worth it.”

He gave you a knowing look, eyes full of something that was both playful and... something more. He was the Human Torch, but in that moment, he wasn’t just fire. He was a spark that could have burned everything or lit a whole new path.

And maybe, for the first time all night, you felt like you were standing on the edge of something that wasn’t entirely out of your control.

Johnny winked, lowering his head so his lips were resting at the crest of your ear, his voice just above a whisper. “Sometimes, the best part about playing with fire is the burn.”

You smiled, feeling the heat of it in every fiber of your being. You hadn’t expected to find anything real tonight, but then again, you hadn’t expected to dance with a superhero to this song either. It was dangerous. Reckless.

It felt like freedom. That was the best part of it all.

The last notes of "Play With Fire" still echoed in your ears, even though the beat had long since faded, replaced by the hum of a million voices, all of them too eager to return to the business of looking perfect.

You had somehow ended up on the edge of the dance floor, your breath still uneven, your pulse racing from more than just the rhythm of the music. Johnny stood beside you, his smile more subdued now, a knowing glint in his eyes as if he understood that something in you had shifted—something you hadn’t expected to feel tonight. The dance had been reckless, free, but the moment you’d stepped back, the world around you had tried to pull you back into place.

His presence, however, still felt like a spark. An electricity you didn’t want to let go of. Not yet.

“Well,” Johnny said, his voice quieter now, the earlier mischievous tone replaced with something a little softer. “That was fun.”

You shot him a look, half-amused, half-skeptical. “Fun? You could say that again.” Your laugh was a little more breathless than you intended, but you didn’t care. It felt good to be this... unfolded for once.

“You know,” he continued, stepping just a little closer, the heat of his body still too tempting, “the night doesn’t have to end here. There’s a spot… a little hidden place I go to when I need a break from all this.” He gestured toward the glittering ballroom, the clinking of glasses and forced chatter drifting in the background. “It’s up on the rooftop. Private. Quiet. I think you’d like it.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in your stomach. Of course, Johnny Storm had a “private spot” for everything. He was, after all, the Human Torch—effortless, smooth, always in control. However, there was something about the way he said it, about the quiet invitation in his voice that made it hard to ignore. Maybe you did want to escape the fake smiles and phony pleasantries.

You glanced toward the entrance of the ballroom, where your father was still busy shaking hands with some benefactor from the event, lost in his world of polished deals. You hadn’t been looking forward to more of that tonight.

A part of you, the part that had spent so long just trying to keep things together, felt that pull. You needed to break free, even if just for a moment. And another part of you? The part that had danced with Johnny, felt his heat like an actual flare against your skin? That part wanted to see where this could go.

“Fuck it,” you said, your voice quieter than you expected. “Lead the way..”

Johnny’s grin returned, the familiar flash of confidence lighting up his face. Without another word, he took your hand, guiding you through the crowd with a smoothness that barely made anyone notice. His fingers curled gently around yours, warm, sure, the touch casual yet intentional. It was like he knew exactly how to move in this world—his world—while making it feel like it was all about you in that moment.

You followed him through a door to the back of the venue, into a dimly lit corridor that led to a discreet elevator. Johnny pressed the button without a word, his eyes briefly meeting yours. There was something unspoken between you two, something that felt like it had been building without either of you realizing it.

The elevator ride was quick, almost too quick, and when the doors slid open, you stepped out onto the rooftop.

The air hit you first, the cool night breeze sweeping through the garden, carrying the scent of the city mixed with something sweet and floral. It was a sharp contrast to the glossy, manufactured world of the gala below. Here, on the private rooftop, everything felt different. The towering buildings of Manhattan stretched in all directions, but above, it was quieter. More intimate.

Johnny led you through the garden, where lush greenery contrasted against the stark steel and glass of the city around you. The lights here were soft, golden, hidden beneath the plants, casting just enough light to make the space feel almost like a dream. The far-off hum of the city was muted here, and the distant skyline stretched like a canvas of muted lights.

“This is… nice,” you murmured, taking it all in. The silence, the peace, the fact that for a moment, you weren’t anywhere but right here with Johnny. No cameras, no whispers, no obligations.

“I come up here when I need a break from the chaos,” Johnny said, his voice quieter now, matching the serenity of the space. He stopped beside a stone bench, and you both stood for a moment, taking in the view together. “Sometimes it’s good to just… get away. I don’t know about you, but tonight felt like I needed to breathe.”

You nodded, feeling the truth of that. The gala had been suffocating in its own way. Full of too many expectations, too many eyes watching. Too much of your father’s mask.

Johnny leaned against the edge of a low wall, hands in his pockets, his body slightly turned toward you. His eyes, usually so full of energy and fire, seemed softer in the dim light of the rooftop garden. “I wasn’t sure you’d actually come up here,” he admitted with a small smile. “Most people aren’t exactly keen on leaving the spotlight. But I like that you did.”

You shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the rush from the dance still lingered, making it hard to keep your calm exterior. “What can I say? I needed a change of scenery. I guess you could say you have a way of making people want to step out of their comfort zone. Besides, the spotlight isn’t my thing. Never was.”

He chuckled, and there was a genuine warmth to it. “I don’t know if it’s me, or just that sometimes you need someone who isn’t afraid to break the rules.”

You met his eyes again and for a moment, it felt like the world around you had gone still. The wind was the only thing moving, brushing through your hair and ruffling Johnny’s shirt just slightly. And yet, there was an electricity between you two, quiet but undeniable.

“You’re a rule breaker, huh?” you asked, your voice low and teasing.

Johnny’s smile turned a little more wicked, that familiar mischief lighting up his face again. “Maybe,” he said, pushing off from the wall and stepping closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Maybe it’s just that… sometimes the rules are there to be bent.”

He was close now, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him, the same heat that had burned so bright on the dance floor. His presence was magnetic, inescapable, and you had to fight the urge to step closer to him.

“Well, I think you’ve already set my night on fire,” you said, voice a little breathless.

Johnny didn’t say anything in response. Instead, he took another step closer, his hand gently brushing against yours. His touch was electric, like he was waiting for you to make the next move.

You could feel the tension building between you—every heartbeat, every breath. The city below, the skyline, and the quiet garden was all just background noise now.

“Maybe we should just let the night burn then,” Johnny said softly, his voice deep and seductive, like he was speaking just for you.

You didn’t know what you were stepping into, but right then, under the stars with Johnny Storm, you didn’t need to. You let go of the last of your reservations.

And for the first time tonight, you let the fire take you.

Johnny was close, closer than you’d expected. His presence, that electric heat that never quite seemed to dissipate, was undeniable. His eyes were on you, dark and steady, but there was something different in them now. There was now something softer, more deliberate than the playful energy that had defined their banter earlier in the night.

You stood beside him, heart racing, mind whirling. The dance had been the first spark, the moment when something unexpected flickered between you. But now? The air felt thick with unspoken words, each one hanging in the space between you like a slow-burning fuse.

“You know,” Johnny said, his voice low and surprisingly serious, “I don’t come up here often with anyone. It’s usually just me and the stars, you know? The chaos gets too loud sometimes. But tonight… Tonight it feels different.”

Your heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t talking about the view or the quiet of the rooftop anymore. He was talking about you. Something about his tone, about the way his words wrapped around you, sent a shiver down your spine. The fire in him had shifted. The flippant hero, always surrounded by chaos and light, was now speaking softly, his words like an invitation, a promise.

“I get that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “This is nice. Peaceful. I could see why you wouldn’t want to share it.”

Johnny took a half-step closer, the space between you narrowing until his breath was warm on your face. His blue eyes—those beautiful stormy, electric eyes—searched yours like he was looking for permission, or maybe waiting for you to make the first move. The gravity between you was palpable, magnetic. Everything else faded into the background. All that mattered was the two of you standing there, in the heart of the rooftop garden, this space between chaos and quiet.

“Yeah,” Johnny said, his lips curving into a slow, unsteady smile. “I’ve been thinking... maybe I’m the kind of guy who can burn things down and fly, but I also know when it’s time to stop and just... feel. Not many people know that about me.”

His words wrapped around you like a firestorm, the heat of them sinking deep into your chest. It was too much and yet it was everything you’d been craving all night. No pretense. No walls. Just the raw pull of the moment, the intensity that was flaring between you two like a flame in the dark.

With no more hesitation, Johnny’s hand lifted, slow but sure, as though he was asking for permission even now. His fingers brushed against your cheek, warm and light, his touch like a spark against your skin. His thumb traced the line of your jaw, the touch so intimate that it made your breath hitch.

“You don’t have to worry,” he murmured, his voice low, just for you. “I won’t burn you.”

You swallowed, your own breath a little shaky. Something wild had taken hold of you, some primal urge that told you not to hold back. You stepped into him, closing the last of the distance between you.

“I’m not afraid of getting burned,” you said, your voice a little hoarse.

Johnny’s eyes flickered with something hot, something unrestrained. And then, without another word, he pulled you toward him, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that matched the fire he carried inside. The kiss was everything you’d imagined and more urgent, intense, full of heat, yet strangely soft. His lips were warm, the taste of him a mixture of whiskey and something electric, something undeniably him.

His hands slid to your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. You could feel the warmth of him. His body. His energy. It surged through you like a live wire. You kissed him back, your own hands rising to tangle in his hair, feeling the wild heat of his touch consume you, like he was setting a fire inside you that you didn’t know how to extinguish.

For a moment, there was nothing but the heat of the kiss, the steady rhythm of your heartbeats echoing through your chest. The world had fallen away. There were no rumors, no expectations, no father or gala or fake smiles. There was only the two of you, locked in this perfect, intoxicating moment, a kiss that felt like it could burn down the whole city and leave nothing but the ashes.

When you pulled back, just for a breath, Johnny’s eyes were darker than before, smoldering with something that went deeper than the fire he controlled. His chest rose and fell with each breath, but he didn’t step away. Instead, his forehead leaned against yours, and he whispered your name, like it was a secret he’d been dying to share.

You couldn’t help but smile, your fingers still tangled in his hair, your chest pressed against his. There was a quiet calm in you now, something that had been absent the entire night. Something that told you, even with all the fire and heat, maybe this was just the beginning.

“Maybe you’re more than just fire, Johnny Storm,” you whispered back. “Maybe you’re something a little softer. Less dangerous than you put on. Fire can be beautiful too. It’s not always destructive.”

Johnny’s laugh was low, his lips brushing against yours in a quick, gentle kiss before he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “Maybe,” he said, voice teasing but tender, “but I still have a few flames left to share.”

As the night stretched on, with the soft breeze swirling around you and the city still pulsing below, you knew one thing for certain: there was no going back. Not after this. Not after the fire had burned so bright between you.

You weren’t sure you even wanted to go back.

The city lights below flickered like a sea of stars, but up there on the rooftop, the night felt different. The soft hum of the wind moving through the plants, all of it was a contrast to the tension crackling between you and Johnny. The kiss you’d shared earlier hadn’t been enough—it was only the beginning of something more. Something you couldn’t quite control.

You needed more.

Johnny stood close to you. Too close. But you didn’t want him to step back. His scent lingered in the air around you, a mix of the fresh outdoors and something smoky, something undeniably him. His eyes, dark and electric, never left yours, and every beat of your heart seemed to echo between you. His lips were slightly parted, his breath shallow, like he was waiting for you to make the next move.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby,” Johnny says breathlessly. “You’re playing with fire.”

You felt a thrill run through you at the words. Everything about him. From his cocky grin, the edge of danger in his voice, the way his body practically hummed with heat… He was irresistible. You tilted your head slightly, daring him with a soft smile.

“I think you’re the one who started the fire, Johnny,” you said, your voice low, teasing. It wasn’t a challenge, not exactly, but it felt like one all the same. Something between the two of you had shifted and now there was no going back.

Johnny took a step closer, his heat radiating off him like a furnace. You could feel the air between you thickening, crackling with an energy you hadn’t known you craved until now. His hand reached for you, slow and deliberate, but he didn’t touch you just yet. Instead, his fingers hovered near your waist, the slightest of touches, making you ache for more.

“You sure you can handle it?” Johnny murmured, his voice almost playful, but there was an underlying intensity in his words.

You swallowed, your pulse racing. “You’re the one who’s burning up,” you whispered, taking a small step forward, closing the last bit of distance between you.

Your pulse quickens at Johnny's bold words, your breath catching in her throat. You look up at him through hooded lashes, your heart racing in anticipation.

“Is that a promise or a threat?” you ask, you voice barely above a whisper. With a sudden burst of courage, you wrap your arms around Johnny's neck, pulling him flush against your body. You can feel the heat radiating off his body, mingling with the cool night air.

“Because either way, I'm willing to take the risk,” you confess, your lips hovering tantalizingly close to his. You close the final distance, pressing your mouth to Johnny's in a searing kiss. Your tongue darts out, teasing the seam of his lips before delving inside to tangle with his.

Johnny groans into the kiss, his arms snaking around your waist to pull her tighter against him. He returns your passion with equal fervor, his tongue dancing with yours in a sensual duel. The taste of you is intoxicating, and he drinks it greedily, lost in the heady rush of desire. Breaking the kiss, Johnny trails his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. He lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he presses your back against the cold stone wall. The hard planes of his body molded perfectly against your body. Johnny grinds his hips into yours, letting you feel the evidence of his arousal.

“Tell me you want this,” Johnny said breathlessly, his intense gaze on you.

You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pins you against the wall. The rough texture of the stone contrasts sharply with the heat of Johnny's body, making you acutely aware of every point of contact.

“Yes, God yes,” you moan, your hips bucking against his in a desperate bid for friction. “I want this. Burn me alive, Mr. Storm.”

Your words are punctuated by a series of urgent kisses, your mouth seeking out Johnny's with a hunger that borders on desperation. Your hands roam over his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath his suit. You want to tear the fabric away, to expose the man beneath and claim him as your own.

“That's the spirit,” Johnny praises, his voice thick with lust. He captures your lips again, devouring you with a primal intensity that leaves you breathless and wanting more. His hands roam freely over your curves, squeezing and kneading the supple flesh. Johnny slips a hand beneath your skirt, his fingers tracing the lace of your panties before pushing them aside to delve into your slick heat. Johnny groans, his thumb finding your clit and starts rubbing it in slow, tortuous circles. “You're so wet for me already. I can't wait to taste you.”

With a swift motion, Johnny rips open your dress, the fabric ripping with ease. He palms your bare breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples until they pebble under his touch.

“You're perfect,” he rasps, leaning in to capture a pert bud between his teeth.

You cry out, you back arching as Johnny teases your sensitive nipples. The sensation of his hot mouth on your skin sends jolts of pleasure straight to your core, making you throb around his invading fingers. “Oh fuck, Johnny!” you gasp, your hips grinding wildly against his hand. “Don't stop, please…”

Lost in the haze of desire, you fumble with the fastenings of Johnny's trousers, desperate to free his straining erection. You need to feel him. All of him. As if reading your mind, Johnny relieves you of the task, swiftly shedding his pants and underwear. His cock springs free, thick and pulsing with need. You wrap your hand around it, stroking the velvety length with reverence.

A hoarse cry tears from your throat as Johnny thrusts inside you completely, stretching your inner walls to their limit. The sudden intrusion triggers a wave of intense pleasure that courses through your veins, leaving you trembling and breathless.

“Johnny... oh god, yes!” you moan, your nails digging into his shoulders as you adjust to his size. You start to roll your hips, experimenting with the delicious friction as Johnny remains still inside you. The sensation of his hot, hard length nestled deep within your core is almost overwhelming, stoking the flames of your desire to new heights. Impatient to move, you clench your inner muscles around Johnny's cock, urging him to start thrusting. “Please, Johnny,” you beg, your voice husky with need.

Johnny's restraint snaps at your pleading and he begins to move, setting a relentless pace that has you crying out in ecstasy. Each powerful thrust drives him deeper, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the night air.

“You're so damn tight,” Johnny growls, his eyes locked on your face as he watches you come undone beneath him. “I can feel every inch of you milking my cock. It’s driving me crazy.”

He leans down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as he pounds into you with increasing ferocity. The rooftop garden blurs around them, replaced by a world consisting solely of heat, hunger, and the primal urge to claim and be claimed. Johnny breaks the kiss to trail his mouth down your neck, biting and sucking at the delicate skin.

“Come for me, baby,” Johnny mutters into your neck, panting as he kept up with his relenting pace. “Come for me.”

The combination of his rough treatment and the unrelenting rhythm of his thrusts pushes you closer to the edge. Your inner walls begin to flutter and clench, signaling your impending climax. You wrap your legs tightly around Johnny's waist, locking your ankles behind his back to draw him impossibly deeper.

“Johnny, I'm gonna—!” you scream as the first waves of an orgasm crash over you, your pussy spasming wildly around his pistoning cock. The intense pleasure is almost too much to bear, sending you hurtling into a maelstrom of bliss. Through the haze of your release, you feel Johnny's movements become erratic, his thrusts growing shorter and more urgent.

Johnny's grip on you tightens as he feels your pussy convulsing around him, milking his cock for all it's worth. The sensation of your clenching walls and the sound of your ragged breathing spur him on, driving him to new heights of pleasure.

“That's it, baby, squeeze my cock,” Johnny grunts, his hips snapping forward in short, brutal strokes. “You're mine, all mine.”

With a final, guttural roar, Johnny buries himself to the hilt and erupts, painting your insides with his hot seed. Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over him, his vision blurring as he loses himself in the sheer ecstasy of the moment. As the aftershocks subside, Johnny collapses against you, his weight pinning you against the wall.

Breathless and sated, you cradle Johnny's face in your hands, gazing up at him with adoring eyes.

“That was... incredible,” you whisper, your voice trembling with residual pleasure. You run your fingers through his hair, marveling at the way his heated skin seems to glow in the moonlight. The intimacy of the moment, coupled with the lingering effects of their passion, leaves you feeling vulnerable yet deeply connected to Johnny. “I've never felt anything like that before,” you confess, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and wonder.

Johnny's chest rises and falls heavily as he tries to catch his breath, his forehead resting against yours. He's still buried inside you, their bodies intimately entwined. The sensation of your warmth wrapped around him is almost too much to bear.

“You're something else,” Johnny murmurs, his voice low and husky. “I knew from the moment I saw you that you were trouble, but fuck, I wouldn't trade this for anything.”

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, and sees the same awe and vulnerability reflected back at him. It's a moment of raw honesty, stripped of pretenses and societal expectations. Johnny brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle compared to the fierce passion they just shared.

Your heart swells at Johnny's words, your soul feeling as if it's been set ablaze by the intensity of their connection. You reach up to frame his face, your thumbs stroking his cheekbones as you search his gaze.

“It was a good reprieve from all the formalities,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. Your fingers trace the contours of his jawline, marveling at both the strength and unexplored tenderness etched into his features.

Johnny nods, a small, enigmatic smile playing on his lips.

“Yeah, definitely a nice distraction from all the pomp and circumstance,” he leans in, capturing your mouth in a tender, exploratory kiss. It's a stark contrast to the passionate frenzy that preceded it, but no less potent in its own way. When Johnny finally breaks apart, he rests his forehead against yours once more, his breath mingling with yours. “I should probably get you back downstairs before anyone misses you.”

Despite the practicality of the situation, neither you nor Johnny make a move to disengage. The moment stretches on, heavy with unspoken promises and the knowledge that their lives will soon return to their usual trajectories.

You sigh softly, the sound caught between your lips as you reluctantly pull away from Johnny's embrace. The sudden chill of the night air against your overheated skin is a jarring reminder of the world beyond this hidden alcove.

“Yes, we should…” Your voice trails off as you gaze up at him, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow across his face. There's a bittersweet quality to the moment, a sense of longing for something that may never come to be. “But what if I don’t want to?”

Johnny's eyes flash with a hint of mischief at your words, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

“Then we stay up here all night and let the world keep spinning without us.”

#fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #Johnny storm #Johnny storm x reader #human torch #human torch x reader #fantastic 4 #fantastic 4 fan fiction #Joseph quinn #the human torch #x reader #reader insert #fantastic four

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averagewriter-inthedark · 3 months ago

Text

Fire & Ice 🔥🧊 | MCU!Johnny Storm Imagine

Link to my Marvel masterlist

Characters & Pairings: JosephQuinn!JohnnyStorm x enhanced!reader (romantic), the Fantastic Four (platonic), The Avengers (platonic).

Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, mentions of canon violence and death, canon divergence, light angst | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 7K

Requested 📨 yes/no

Premise: 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 whose power and reputation matches that of her cold, steel, heart.

Note: Happy 2025 everyone! To kick off the year I am gifting y'all this damn idea that's been stuck in my head the past two weeks. Now if you've been following my work since I started, then you know I was pumping out Marvel fics back in the day. Phase 1-4 of Marvel have my heart, and unfortunately the disappointment of Phase 5 (with few exceptions) had me lose interest. BUT if there was one thing I absolutely loved when I was a kid, it was the OG Fantastic Four movies with Chris Evans, Jessica Alba, etc. I watched those literally every day and before the Avengers/MCU I rolled hard with the FF, Blade, & X-Men (I've got another idea involving Deadpool & Wolverine cooking). So I have a lot of expectations for FF: First Steps especially because the MCU has had so many misses the last two years. I love Pedro Pascal, Vanessa Kirby, and Joseph Quinn, I haven't watched The Bear, but I've heard great things about Ebon Moss-Bachrach and I look forward to his and the rest of the cast's portrayal of the FF.

I've been a fan of JQ since 2022 because like majority of people I discovered him by his performance as Eddie in Stranger Things. I'll admit I haven't seen much of his filmography, but I did watch A Quiet Place: Day One and he was phenomenal. And don't get me started on Gladiator II. I was pleased to hear he'd be playing my first love Johnny Storm and I know he'll do amazing, not to mention he has said that he was a fan of the OG movies and Chris' version of the character. Whenever I hear an actor is a fan of the source material, I know they're going to deliver.

The movie hasn't come out, neither has the trailer, so I don't have much to work with. But we know that FF:FS is following the origin story of the FF and will feature the Silver Surfer. AND it's rumored to be where RDJ's Doctor Doom will debut, setting up Avengers: Doomsday and he will be the big villain of the MCU. This obviously is diverging from canon and pretty much an AU story, remember that please. SO here's my treat to my fellow Johnny Storm lovers to feed y'all since we still got months until FF:FS. Enjoy.

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The blinding light of the sun peaking through the curtains pulled Johnny from his sleep before the alarm was set to go off. Had it been any other day he’d be upset. Wishing nothing more than to curl into the comforter and get the extra minutes of sleep. But thankfully it was Sunday--the day reserved for rest. No agenda. No training. No missions. Completely free and dedicated to recoupling after a week filled with non-stop action.

And if there was anyone who would be displeased at waking up earlier than needed, it was the woman lying beside him. Fast asleep on her back with one hand curled beneath the pillow and the other clasping his on her chest. Body cooler than the average person, which made the atmosphere of the room comfortable considering Johnny’s was hotter than the average citizen. Figuratively and literally.

Johnny smiled, happily tucking himself further into her space, chin leaning on her shoulder as he snuggled against her side. Allowing his eyes to flutter close and accept the slumber his body itched to claim. The fresh scent of shea butter from her shampoo and body wash filled his nostrils, and he sighed in content.

This was what life was worth living.

But just when Johnny welcomed the darkness, the annoying, blazing sound of their alarm clock echoed against the walls, disturbing the peaceful moment and making him flinch and groan. “Dammit,” he rolled onto his back, arm reaching to slap at the air until his fingers grasped the device. Snoozing it asleep with a press of a button.

Now he was fully awake.

Flinging himself back onto the mattress, he felt her body shift before letting out a soft chuckle, “Had you turned it off when you first woke, you’d have spared yourself this torment.” Her voice was laced with tiredness, and Johnny turned his head to find her eyes still closed but clear amusement painting her visage by the smirk on her lips.

Rolling his eyes, he moved to lay on his side and brought his arm around her waist, “Why didn’t you? Seeing as you were also awake.”

“Too comfy.”

“Well, so was I,” he sassed, mouth hovering over her jaw before leaning down to kiss the skin, the coolness sending a chill along his spine. She hums, nuzzling into the touch, seeking it.

“The alarm is also on your side.”

Johnny smirks against her cheek, mischief coating his gaze, “you could’ve reached over me, you know. Saved us both the hassle.” His hand reached up to stoke her jaw, trailing to tangle his fingers in her hair. Soft and silky. He takes a moment to appreciate the beauty before him. From her thick eyelashes, to her lips. Her cheekbones and kissable lips.

“Oh you would like that, wouldn’t you,” she challenged with no actual bite to her tone, one eye peeking open. “Me on top of you in the morning.” He didn’t even deny it, flashing a toothy smile

“Very much so.”

Instead of replying, Y/n moved to push the man onto his back, throwing her leg over his waist to lay herself on top of him. Johnny’s hands immediately grabbed her, keeping her body pressed against his with one hand on her back and the other firmly on her hips. The heat radiating off his complexion clashed against the frostiness of hers. Two polar opposites coming together in an explosion of love and devotion.

Johnny welcomed it with open arms, bringing her mouth to his in a tender kiss. Chuckling as she fought away while mumbling about morning breath to which he didn’t care. He kissed her like his life depended on it. Like they were the only two people in existence. For there was nothing sweeter on the planet than the taste of her lips on his.

And thanks to the fire that consumed his veins, Johnny was spared from getting frostbite.

“Happy?” She asked while pulling away, but not getting far as Johnny cupped her jaw in his hand to keep her close. Kissing her once more after mumbling, “exceptionally.”

The tale of the Human Torch falling in love with the Ice Princess begins long ago, three years to be exact, when the Fantastic Four find themselves sitting across the table of Earth’s mightiest heroes, the Avengers.

Everything leading up to the moment was still a blur to the young Johnny Storm. One moment he and his team, the Fantastic Four as they called themselves, were fighting the formidable Doctor Doom in their 60s-style futuristic Earth. And the next they are pulled into another universe while tailing the bastard to prevent him from bringing utter destruction to the world. It hadn’t even been five minutes and the Four were surrounded by armored trucks and individuals donning costumes similar to their own.

“Hands where we can see them!”

“State your name and purpose!”

“Who are you and where did you come from!”

Johnny’s heart pounded against his chest. The anxiety piling up like a volcano ready to explode as he took in the scene before him. There were guns pointed at him and his friends. A man in a blue tunic and red cape with his hands raised in defense next to a young girl wearing a brown tunic. Another man in a red, white, and blue tactical suit with wings who landed in front of them. His shield reflecting off the light. Next to him was a man in a similar attire with wings but in grey. Then there was a woman in all purple, bow and arrow trained on the Four. A man with five golden rings on either wrist. A masked individual in a bright red and blue suit with spider webbing detail crouched on top of a car. And finally, a woman in a striking gray tactical ensemble stood closest to Johnny with a cold look in her eyes.

Upon making a flame with his hands, ready to defend himself and his friends, Johnny watched her face shift to amusement. Raising her brow as though unimpressed by the trick, “Don’t even try, hotshot.” And without taking her eyes off his, her palm raised up to form an icicle in the shape of a dagger. Her other arm extended to show her skin turning completely into ice.

Yeah, Johnny wasn’t sure if it was fear or arousal that consumed him. He often confused them at times. All he knows is there was a pretty woman before him with ice powers with cold eyes ready to strike him down with God knows what laid in store for him should he dare tempt her.

But now wasn’t the time to flirt. There were more important matters at stake. Like the fact they were surrounded by highly advanced, highly enhanced, people with an army of soldiers at their command. In a place that looked like New York but lacked the 60s style he was accustomed to.

“Cuff them and begin transport to HQ!”

“Find me Banner and clear this area at once!”

The Four were at a loss. Outnumbered and confused, none able to process what the fuck was going on. They lost Doom. He was God knows where and they were not a match against these strangers. So they took their loss and compiled as they were restrained by agents.

“What the fuck is happening, Reed?” Johnny demanded, struggling against the cuffs on his arms and ankles. His power seemingly unable to melt the damn things which both intrigued and terrified him.

“I don’t know?”

“Where are we?” said Sue from beside the genius, expression full of confusion and slight fear. The last thing she remembered was falling through a glowing yellow-orange light in the shape of a ring and the feeling of nausea hitting her full force. Giving her whiplash.

But before anyone could answer, the blinding light of the sun hit them as the door whipped open and agents ushered them out of the vehicle. Clashes of voices, cameras flashing as news crews desperately tried to breach the barrier guards had formed and even a helicopter flying above. Johnny glanced up to take in the chaos, gaze falling onto the large building before him with a giant ‘A’

The Four are led to a large glass encased room, still cuffed, and ordered to sit and wait while armed guards post themselves outside. Expecting someone to come in and interrogate them, they take the moment to assess the area. Noting that the glass room sat perched above a large space, like a bullpen, where people were rushing to answer phones, type on computers, or stood watching the vast tv screens splayed on the wall. The news channels played footage of what transpired on the streets moments prior. The Four tense when they see an image of Doctor Doom, disappearing after falling from what appeared to be a portal in the sky.

Just like they did.

The sound of the glass door opening captured their attention, turning to find the man in the wingsuit and the woman in gray. Their body language showed they were on high alert, analyzing the Four for any potential threat, and they exchanged a look before the man set down his shield on a free chair while the woman placed a stack of files onto the table.

“I’m Captain Sam Wilson, this is Agent Y/n L/n,” The man spoke first, cutting right to the chase, “You’re not from here, are you?”

“Here?” Reed repeated, perplexed.

“Earth-616,” Y/n answered, locking eyes with each of the Four, lingering on Johnny before falling onto Reed. “At first we suspected you’re with Hydra, or part of the team Fontaine has been cooking up. But ruled those possibilities out once we saw the footage of your friend who preceded you in the portal.”

The Four processed her words, unable to identify the names she spoke of.

“Hydra?”

“We don’t know who this Fontaine person is, but we can assure you we’re not involved with them.”

“You saw Doom? We have to find him immediately!”

“I’m sorry, did you say Earth-616?,’ Reed reeled back to her initial answer. Y/n crossed her arms over her chest with a nod.

“I did,” she then turned to Sam, lowering her voice but they were still able to hear everything, “This isn’t going to be easy, Cap. They obviously hadn’t discovered what we know and that makes them a liability.”

“We have no choice. Whoever traveled with them is still out there and they know what we’re up against. We need them.”

“And how exactly are we going to send them back to where they came from?”

“We’ll figure it out like we always do,” Sam’s tone grows stern, but Y/n holds her ground and doesn’t reveal any ounce of intimidation. “Strange and Banner can find something.”

Johnny, having had enough of them talking about them as though they weren’t right there, spoke up with annoyance, “Can you two please tell us what the fuck is going on? What do you mean “send us back where we came from,” and that we hadn’t discovered what you apparently know?”

Reed pitches in, “Sounds like you’re suggesting the theory of the multiverse is real and that we’ve somehow breached the gap between space, time, and reality and have fallen into a parallel universe,” the genius scoffs, gaze flicking between the two as though waiting for them to say, ‘Sike!’ only for his stomach to plummet in fear as he saw how serious they were. “Oh my God.”

Reed’s reaction to the implication was enough to cause the same in his friends. Sue’s face paled, Ben froze, and Johnny felt a sudden urge to throw up. They were in another universe.

They watch as Y/n removes a device from her utility belt, stiffening as she points it at the man, a buzzing sound emitting from its speakers causing her brows to furrow and the man leaned over to read whatever it was on the screen. “You’re human, like us, and your DNA appears to be altered with enhanced biological traits.” Glancing up from the screen, her head tilts with suspicion, “but that’s not the interesting part…..your readings indicate you obtain multiversal particles.”

The revelation sent the Four into hysterics. All denying at first the inevitable truth, speaking over each other, struggling against their cuffs--which Sam removed once they calmed down. Reed was dealing with shock and excitement, for the scientific discovery was something he always theorized was true. Meanwhile the others were more fearful of what this meant for their world and the one they were in.

For hours after the initial shock wore off, they stayed in that room until all information was exchanged between the groups. Sam infomed the Four they were at Avengers campus, headquarters for the Avengers. A team consisting of biologically or technologically enhanced individuals responsible for the safety and order of Earth-616 against domestic, international, and intergalactic threats.

“Well now we can add multiversal to the mix,” Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, seemingly annoyed with having to deal with another damn enemy after they’d finally defeated an adversary not long ago.

Part of Johnny wanted to laugh at her irritation, but that probably would’ve made things worse on his end. So he kept his mouth shut.

Sam and Y/n were soon joined by the man in the tunic, who introduced himself as Doctor Stephen Strange. A Master of the Mystic Arts who had experience traveling the multiverse, and had even met a variant of Reed years prior.

He didn’t go into detail obviously of how that ended.

Not long later he was followed by a large man who’s physique rivaled Ben’s and was green. “Dr. Reed Richards, meet Dr. Bruce Banner,” Y/n did not look up from her tablet, full focus on the screen. “You two will surely get on well with figuring out what the fuck it is this Doctor Doom wants with our world.”

While they didn’t join the group, Sam explained who the other team members were that helped attain the Fantastic Four. Stephen’s protegee, America Chavez, who had the power to travel the multiverse--which had Reed’s eyes bulging from his head. He definitely wanted to have a conversation with her. There was Kate Bishop, the purple archer who trained under former Avenger, Clint Barton. Sam’s wingman, Joaquin Torres, and Shang-Chi, who possessed the Ten Rings. Lastly there was Peter Parker, the boy donning the red and blue webbed suit.

They mentioned the Thunderbolts, another team of enhanced individuals who were more anti-heroes and had once been adversaries of the Avengers but are now allies. Then there was the Guardians of the Galaxy. A team of intergalactic heroes traveling space and protecting the galaxy from threats not on Earth. The Norse Gods of Asgard, now living on Earth. Shuri, Scott Lang, Hope Van Dyne, and the Marvels. Lastly, they touched on former Avengers. Ones who retired, like Barton, and the ones who perished.

Finally, when things seemed to settle, Johnny decided to lift the mood by saying, “So do you guys have nicknames? Or like code for when you’re on missions?” Sue shot him a look that read, “For the love of God, Johnny.”

Y/n lifted her eyes from the tablet, giving him a once over, “Are you serious right now?”

“What?”

“Aye, take it easy, L/N,” Sam pitched in, waving a hand for emphasis. “Can’t blame the kid for being curious.” All he receives is a mock scoff.

“Okay, Captain America.”

Johnny’s ears perked up as he looked at Sam with interest. Boyish grin plastered on his face, “You’re called Captain America? That’s really cool.” He motions toward the suit and shield, “Should’ve guessed as much though with the colors of your suit and stars.”

“I used to be the Falcon, but Torres has taken on that mantle. Strange is just strange,” Y/n snickered under her breath, causing Johnny to bite back a smile. “We call America, Miss America.”

Ben nods his head in approval, “fitting.”

Sam continued listing off the aliases of the team, finally coming to Y/n who narrowed her eyes with a frown as he said, “And she’s the Ice Princess.”

Honestly she should be grateful for the nickname and that it sounded quite regal in comparison to other ice related names. Hell, they could’ve dubbed her Frost. Or Snowflake. Or God forbid Icicle. At least with the Ice Princess it made her sound both menacing and dauntless. Still, it was too on the nose. And it didn’t help that before the accident that granted her the powers and the Avengers, she was a socialite in America. Before they died, her parents were wealthy investors and friends with the late Tony Stark.

Johnny didn’t try to hide his grin, “The Ice Princess,” earning a glare from the woman, obviously not amused by the nickname nor his delight from it.

“And what do they call you, hotshot? Firestarter? Flame-man?”

He shrugs sheepishly, cheeks a tint red, “Human Torch.” Now that has Y/n’s lips curl, fighting back the smile as she hums.

Setting the Four up at campus, they were given rooms and full access to the labs and training facilities. Reed and Ben immediately joined Banner, while Johnny and Sue decided to observe the Avengers and learn from them. Their dynamics. Their history. The way they train and how they come together to develop strategy. How they are able to make a team consisting of individuals with different levels of abilities, experience, and ethics work.

Johnny would be lying if he said he wasn’t the most curious about Y/n. Not only was she the most beautiful, and quite terrifying, woman he’d ever met, but he was drawn to her aura. The power she held, both physically and on the team. She was extremely intelligent, a mentor to the young members, witty. Unafraid to go toe-to-toe with Sam or Strange.

And her powers….they were exact opposites. Fire and ice. Hot and cold. Where he controlled flames, she manipulated glaciers. He turned himself into a human torch, she transformed to a human icicle.

Talk about opposites attract.

Days passed, and the two teams merged together with the goal of locating their common enemy. By keeping up with the news and reports of suspicious activity, they were able to narrow down the search for Doom. Suspecting him to be hiding somewhere in the New England area.

The day before planning to scour the location, the teams trained with each other, none holding back. Showing off what they were made of. An enthralling experience considering the Fantastic Four had only been a team for a couple years in comparison to the fifteen plus of the Avengers. Banner being the only founding member there, Sam and Y/n not far behind.

“I like her,” Sue whispered to her brother when Y/n sideswiped Joaquin and put him on his ass. The group made a circle around the matts in the gym and were taking turns going against each other. Sue caught the way the man’s gaze followed the Avenger. Mesmerized by her skill and ability. And Sue always knew when her brother had a crush. “You should go next when it’s her turn again.”

Johnny didn’t respond, but the look on his sister's face, a cheeky smirk told him he wasn’t being conspicuous as he thought he was with his feelings. “Shut up.”

The most tense, and nearly destructible moment, came when the Four discovered a photograph of Tony Stark on the wall of a different debrief room alongside the founding Avengers. Who bore a striking resemblance, well actually he was identical, to Dr. Victor von Doom. The man they were after.

There was screaming. Accusations thrown at each other. Of course suspicion and confusion from the Four. Up until that point the Avengers only saw Doom with his cloak and mask from the footage, and the Four hadn’t described his appearance. And while the Avengers mentioned Tony Stark, they didn’t show any pictures.

It calmed when Strange had to remind them about the existence of variants. He met Reed’s when traveling to Earth-838. Peter Parker met two of his. It was completely possible that their Victor von Doom was a variant of their Tony Stark. Were they the same man? Not really when one thinks about it. But they shared a face. The Reed Richards Strange met looked nothing like the one standing in front of him. While in Earth-838, Strange met a young lady who worked with Christine, that world’s version of the Ice Princess, who was not Y/n. Peggy Carter was their Captain America!

Oh, and there was the big detail in the fact that Tony Stark was dead.

When the commotion settled and the two groups lost their steam, Johnny noted the deflated appearance of the Avengers. All falling quiet with unreadable expressions. Peter excused himself, “I-I don’t feel good. I’m gonna go lay down,” but the blonde saw the way his lip trembled and eyes watered. Rushing out of the debriefing room on a mission to get away from everyone before he burst into tears. A feeling of guilt suddenly consumed Johnny, glancing at his friends who shared the same concern.

Banner was quiet, as was Strange. The others, who didn’t know Tony personally, shuffled on their feet and quietly excused themselves as well. Sam had his back to everyone, a distant look in his eyes as he gazed down at the bullpen below.

And then there was Y/n. Sitting in silence with her hands clenching the arms of her chair, white knuckled and jaw so tight he swore he saw a vein protruding. Her breathing was shallow, eyes staring blankly at the wall.

Johnny felt unease, unsure of what to do. Should he say something? Should they leave the room? Nothing felt right at that moment. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this new revelation changed everything. This was no longer just containing a multiversal threat, this was personal so to say.

He was spared the ordeal when Sam finally spoke, only to be interrupted by Y/n, “You know you don’t have to--.”

“Do not finish that sentence, Sam.”

He turned away from the window to look at her, tone serious, “I’m trying to look out for you, Kid.”

“What’d I tell you about calling me that?”

“And Peter,” Sam continues, not letting up, “No one will fault you two for wanting to pull out of this.”

She scoffs, offended by the insinuation as she stands from her chair. The atmosphere in the room heated up again, and Johnny tensed, watching the woman step forward so she was nearly chest to chest with Sam. “There is a multiversal madman out there and you’re suggesting I stay grounded?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, “What the fuck, Sam?”

“This is different, Y/n,” his voice was steady, willing her to understand. He wanted the best for his team. And their situation was unlike anything they’d ever dealt with. “You have to realize that. This Doom is--.”

“Not him, Sam! Y/n threw her hands up, yelling as the anger she had tried to contain began to unleash, “I’m not fucking stupid! For Christ’s sake, I know that’s not Tony and I’m not going to compromise this team because the man we’re up against has the same face as him!”

“Y/n--,” Strange attempted to intervene but she shot him a look and he immediately backed down.

“If you think Peter and I should back out, then so should Banner,” she pointed to the man who had yet to say something since the news of Tony’s variant was revealed. “Him and Tony founded this team. And let’s not forget your history with the damn Accords. Should I go call Rhodey and see what he thinks?”

‘Accords? Rhodey?’ Johnny thought to himself, not familiar with the term as he thought back to the lessons on the Avengers. They must’ve omitted that detail, assuming it was a rather dark part of their history. A confirmation he got from the reactions of Banner and Strange, who’s expressions were complete shock and appalled.

Sam’s demeanor shifted to that of hurt and exasperation, her words hitting him like a bullet from a gun. “That was low, even for you.” Yeah, whatever it was they were references, the Four gathered it wasn’t good.

Y/n stepped back as though he struck her, a flash of regret in her eyes but she kept her head up, willing herself not to break. “I’m an Avenger. I took an oath, the same as you, and made a promise to Tony that I’ll do whatever it takes to protect this planet against any and all danger. I will not break that promise, and nothing you say or do will stop me.” Y/n backs away, moving toward the door, “I’ll see you on the quinjet tomorrow, Cap.”

An eerie silence remained as the door slammed shut behind Y/n. Nobody moved. Nobody made a sound. The air was thick, and full of tension. The Four glancing at each other with uncertainty.

“Wings up at eight,” Sam announced, voice strong with authority as though the last five minutes never occurred. Or didn’t bother him, though Johnny noted the pinched look of his brows.

The Captain then departed the room, Strange and Banner following out with a nod to the Four. Left to their own devices, the Four spent the next hour in the debrief room watching footage of the Avengers. Particularly ones with Tony Stark, the Iron Man, and the several catastrophic missions he dealt with alongside the Avengers. Provided with the mountain of videos from news channels and social media of people who experienced it first hand.

New York 2012. Ultron 2015. The Superhero Civil War of 2016. That’s where they learned of the Accords Y/n referenced and how she and Sam were involved. The two on opposite sides of the scale as Y/n pledged allegiance to Tony while Sam supported former Captain America, Steve Rogers. Witnesses flying a private plane around the airport captured the fight between the two teams.

Johnny watched with a frown as Y/n battled against her colleagues and friends. He could tell she was holding back on using her power to the highest degree, not really wanting to hurt them, but enough to send a message. For example, when Steve and Bucky attempted to flee to the hangar, Y/n created a layer of ice on the pavement, causing them to tumble and fall. Then she made a wall of ice to contain Scott Lang in his giant form. But that was a failure, as the wall wasn’t thick enough allowing Scott to break free, sending chunks of ice toward the ground, knocking the hero unconscious when one collided with her head, blood spilling from her temple. To prevent her from being crushed, Tony flew in a record speed to gather in his arms and rush her to safety.

Later that night when Johnny was wandering the building, he found Y/n on the balcony overlooking the main grounds. A hue of orange and pink painting the sky as the sun set on the horizon. The dark blue of nightfall taking over lurking in the background. She was out of her suit, dressed in casual clothes consisting of a hoodie and sweats. A faint expression on her visage as she stared out in the distance.

Gathering courage, Johnny took a deep breath before gently sliding back the door, the cool breeze hitting him in the face as he closed it behind him and approached the woman. Her head tilted slightly, acknowledging that she heard him, but made no move to address.

They stayed like that for a minute. In silence, basking in the peace they were afforded before the impending danger they were to face.

“I’m sorry you all had to witness that,” Y/n eventually spoke, tone neutral as her expression. “That was unprofessional of me.”

Johnny shook his head with a shrug, “You don’t have to apologize. I can’t imagine what you and your friends are feeling. And I’m sorry we jumped to conclusions--accusing you guys of--.”

“Considering what you told us of Victor von Doom,” She sent a pointed look, her voice one of understanding, “you had every right to be cautious. Plus,” she sighs, gaze flickered down to the railing, “you four are still new to the Multiverse. We’ve known about it for five years, and I remember that feeling of confusion and uncertainty. America told us all about her experiences traveling through various realities.” Y/n’s frown deepened, shuffling on her feet with unease. “In one world, she met a version of me that hated the Avengers--and tried to destroy them.” Her body shudders, and not from the wind, “That stuck me for a while. I couldn’t imagine a world where I was the enemy. Whose goal was to hurt the people I cared about. Steve, Nat, Tony.”

Johnny nodded, leaning his elbows on the railing as he pictured it. Surely there were versions of himself out there in the multiverse. He wondered what they were like. Did they have the same power? Did they get to live a normal life like he once thought he would? Was he a hero? Or was there a version of Johnny who went against all he stood for?

He too, refused to imagine a scenario where he’d want to harm his sister and friends. It saddened him to even think about such a thing. And the way Y/n said Tony’s name, showed him she felt the same.

“Was he your father?” the question left his lips before he could stop it. Immediately regretting upon the distant look that encompassed her visage along with the glossiness of her eyes.

“He was the closest thing I had to one after my own died,” Y/n bit her lip, scoffing lightly, “actually even when mine was alive. Met the man when I was five--my father invested in Stark Industries and the two were good friends. I have fond memories of going to Stark Tower and watching Tony’s expos.” A small smile appeared, but it soon turned to a frown. “My parents profited off the sciences and technology, but didn’t really care to understand it.” There was a bitter taste in her mouth as she spoke, and Y/n was a bit surprised she was being so open with Johnny. A rare feeling, for she was hardly this vulnerable about her past with her teammates. And she’d known them for decades almost.

“I was always smart growing up but they never acknowledged or praised me for it. Told me college wasn’t necessary since we were wealthy and what good would higher education be when we were well set. Mind you,” she shoots a glance at Johnny, who was watching her intently. “My father went to business school in Chicago and my mother was a journalist before they got married.”

“The pot calling the kettle black,” he muses, tone laced with disappointment on her behalf.

“Exactly,” she sighed, shaking her head as she looked back toward the city. “My father laughed when I told them I wanted to pursue physics at MIT. Told me if I was going to go to college then I should do business where the money was at--as if I needed more fucking money,” Johnny heard the frustration and sadness in her voice, picturing a young Y/n with dreams who just wanted the support of her parents and was denied. Thinking about it made his heart strain.

“Anyways, Tony was the one who helped me get to MIT. It was my freshman year he got kidnapped and became Iron Man. Barely saw him after that because his partnership with my dad ended.” Fiddling with her rings, Y/n closes her eyes briefly while taking a breath, then shrugs nonchalantly, “My folks were among the casualties in New York, my accident happened not long after….” she straightens up with a sniff, “Tony Stark helped me find purpose. Told me there were greater things for me--and my powers could be a tool to help people. He took me under his wing when the government advised him not to. I owe everything to him.” Turning to lock their eyes, Y/n’s gaze is filled with determination.

“As he died I promised him to continue his legacy. I intend to keep it, until my last breath.”

Defeating Doom proved itself to be the most defining moment for the Avengers and Fantastic Four. Lasting months on end, for each time Doom was in their grasps he managed to get two steps ahead of them. Thankfully the integrity of space, time, and reality didn’t seem to disintegrate with the Four in Earth-616. Something the geniuses of the team were concerned about.

When it was finally over, Doom neutralized and the multiverse saved, the Avengers and the Four--bloodied, bruised, and covered in grime, dragged themselves to a nearby shawarma joint to pig out. Beer flowed, music sounded from the jukebox beside the round table they took claim to.

And after months of tip-toeing around feelings, Johnny and Y/n finally said ‘fuck it,’ falling into step together as a unit they both craved. The Ice Princess seated firmly in his lap with her head tucked under his chin, eyes fluttering closed as the exhaustion kicked in.

For Johnny, he’d been crushing on the woman since he first laid eyes on her. Keeping his affections hidden as he knew deep down it would be unwise to pursue anything with someone who 1) was from another world; and 2) he needed to focus on the task at hand.

The same went for Y/n, who realized her fondness for the blonde about a month after he arrived. She’d be lying if she didn’t find him attractive during that first meeting. Anyone with eyes would agree. But she knew better than to be involved with him given their predicament.

Yet, by a power greater than universe, the man of fire melted her frozen heart. He wasn’t put off by her cool attitude, unlike most people when they first meet Y/n. Yeah he got under her skin with his boyish charm and flirtations, but he never crossed any lines. Always respectful. Always mindful.

Neither were sure when things changed between them. Maybe it was when Y/n pushed him out of the way of a line of fire from a Doombot causing her to take three bullets to her back and nearly bleed out right there in the middle of the street. Or when Johnny spent a week in a coma for exposing himself to a deadly dose of radiation to prevent Y/n from doing so. Whatever it was, the two could no longer beat around the bush. And the night before the final battle against Doom, they confessed their feelings on the balcony overlooking Avengers campus. Sealing their promise to stay alive with a kiss.

“You sleepy, darling?” Johnny murmured against her hair after finishing a conversation with Shang-Chi. Tightening his arms around the woman when she nuzzled his chest before laying a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“Just resting my eyes.” His finger brushed her cheekbone, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, making Y/n sigh in content.

“Rest,” he told her, not buying it at all, and by the tone of his voice she knew he was smiling. “I’ll wake you when we’re ready to leave.” All he received was a hum, the man beaming as he carded his fingers through her hair. And when Johnny lifted his gaze he met his sister’s, who’s expression was full of fondness, shooting him a wink as she gestured toward the sleeping Avenger in his lap.

‘Told you so,’ Sue mouthed, grinning at his pink tinted cheeks.

‘Shut up,’ he mouthed back, though he returned the smile.

In the days following their victory, one question remained: Will the Fantastic Four return home? America was their ticket out. All she had to do was open a portal. It may take time, but eventually she’d shuffle through enough realities until she found theirs. Luckily in the months they’d been away, the fabric of reality remained intact.

In all honesty, that fact alone is what made them contemplate leaving.

The Fantastic Four didn’t belong in Earth-616 having landed there by mistake, but it had been almost a year. Integrating themselves into the Avengers and developing bonds. Besides the romantic feelings between Johnny and Y/n, the remaining Fantastic Four were not sure if they wanted to leave. Reed and Ben enjoyed working with Banner and Strange. Sue longed for female companionship, and found that with Y/n and the other women of the Avengers. And Johnny connected with the guys. They all became friends.

They became a team.

And since they weren’t leaving anyone behind in their world, what harm was there by staying? The Avengers could use more allies. And who knows another high level threat would appear. Threatening the existence of the universe. They needed a strong team, and defeating Doom proved they were one.

Yeah, it was a no brainer.

Now here they were two years later. The Ice Princess and Human Torch cuddled in their bed, in their apartment in Avengers campus, on their day off where they could enjoy the peace as no new threats had emerged in the last two months.

Johnny groaned when Y/n pulled away from the kiss, moving to sit up so she was straddling his hips. The comforter falling behind her as she fought against his firm grip when he attempted to pull her back down.

“Sorry, hotshot, no sleeping in for me today. I have to get ready.”

He tilted his head, partly confused, partly offended, “For what?”

“I promised your sister I’d have breakfast with her.”

“But it’s Sunday,” He sat up, hands gripping her waist as he moved to press kisses on her neck. “We don’t do anything on Sundays. Except sleep….” he trailed off, pulling away to give her a cheeky smile, “and give each other some lovin’.”

Y/n chuckled, tilting her head back as his plush lips captured her chin, trailing down her jaw until he found the place behind her ear. “Baby, I’ll give you all the loving this afternoon until the sun sets and the moon rises,” she feels him shudder against her, smirking in satisfaction. “But I’m a woman of my word.”

Lifting herself off him, she leaned over to her side of the bed to grab her rings off the nightstand. Returning to his lap as she placed them on her fingers. Her college ring on her right hand, and the beautiful Cartier stack consisting of her engagement and wedding rings. Once all were placed on her finger, Johnny lifted her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles just below. His own wedding band shining against the sunlight peeking through the curtains.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long now,” Johnny flirted, chocolate eyes sparkling while pressing her hand to his chest where his heart laid. Heat radiated off his body. “I might come looking for ya.” The words earned him a playful glare.

“Behave,” she scolded without any bite. “Or I’ll punish you.”

“I want you too,” Johnny challenged, winding his arm around her waist to hold her closer.

All she did was shake her head, laughing at his behavior while he continued his assault on her neck, allowing him a few extra kisses before she really had to get up. “You are something else, Johnny Storm.”

“And you love meeeee.”

“I do,” she breathed out, tilting her head down to meet his lips halfway, hand cupping his jaw. He sighed in victory, chasing her mouth each time she pulled away, causing her to giggle. “Johnny! The sooner you let me leave, the sooner you get to have me all to yourself.”

He groaned again, loosening his hold but not completely letting Y/n go. “Fine,” he mumbled, pouting, but smiled when she kissed his cheek. “Bring me back a coffee, please?”

“Of course, my love.”

With that he reluctantly let go of her waist, allowing his wife to get up from the bed. But before she could make her way to the bathroom, Johnny caught her hand, making her turn back to him with a raised brow.

“Some say the world will end in fire.” He begins to recite the famous poem by Robert Frost. What started as a joke between the two because of their abilities, transformed into something far more intimate. The poem itself was about human emotions, and their power to lead to self-destruction. Fire was fast, Ice was slow. Together they were each other's strength and weakness. And despite being complete opposites, they both played a role in dismantling humanity.

But for Johnny and Y/n, they managed to do the impossible. They bridged the gap between fire and ice.

Y/n smiles affectionately, lifting her free hand to the back of his neck to scratch at the nape of his hairline. “Some say in ice.”

“From what I’ve tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire.”

“But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate, to say that for destruction ice.”

“Is also great,” They both recite, leaning in to capture each other's lips as they whisper the final line of the poem.

“And would suffice.”

#johnny storm x reader #johnny storm x you #human torch #human torch x reader #johnny storm imagine #joseph quinn!johnny storm #mcu imagine #mcu fluff #fantastic four fanfic #mcu fanfiction #joseph quinn imagine #marvel cinematic universe #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #fantastic four: first steps #fantastic four imagine #fantastic four

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buckylovinglokivariant · 8 months ago

Text

Casual >> Johnny Storm

pairing: johnny storm x popstar!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 3.7k+

summary: Johnny always meant to keep it casual with you but unfortunately for him, he wasn't so good at sticking to his word this time.

warnings: angst, johnny being his asshole self, hopeful ending

a/n: big thanks to my beta reader, mati! love you so much. her idea for a summary was "manwhore fucks around and finds out" which i thought deserved an honorable mention. this fic was inspired by my (believe it or not) first watch of fantastic four so enjoy and don't forget to reblog!

read part 2 here!

Johnny did not want to be here. Not here as in at a concert, Johnny loved concerts. Loud music, hot girls pressed right up against him as they either tried to flirt with him or get closer to the stage (both were fine by him), and lots of recognition from giggly blonde things that liked to cling to him in photo-ops. All that stuff was fine by him, truly. What he did mind was that it was your concert he was at. He hadn’t spoken to you in months, not that his sister or Reed or Ben knew that. To them, you just weren’t around the Baxter Building as much because you’d been on tour. But the truth Johnny had been avoiding since you blocked his number was going to be difficult to ignore when he was watching you sing your heart out for the next two hours.

Susan had been raving about this concert since before the tour had even been announced to the public. You’d told her about it yourself, offering up four tickets for the whole fantastic Reed-Storm-Grimm family to go. It was a few weeks before you and Johnny fought so you were still around their home all the time, hanging out with Johnny or even just with his sister or on occasion, even Reed or Ben. Johnny watched from across the room as you confessed to his sister how much you would miss spending time with them while you were on tour, so they just had to come and see you perform when you were back in New York. The tickets were special, you’d said–they would give them wristbands and let them backstage to see you after the show. Susan had been thrilled. Johnny, not so much.

You’d been going out for months out of the public eye, at Johnny’s behest. “It’s just casual anyway so what does it matter?” he always insisted. He knew it bothered you whenever he said it but stupidly, selfishly he kept saying it anyway. When it all blew up in his face, Johnny really hoped his sister would forget about the tickets altogether. Boy, was he wrong. And he’d insisted to his family for months that you were just friends so he couldn’t exactly use the excuse that you’d broken up, now could he?

It wasn’t until you were nearing the end of your set that your eyes found Johnny’s and you both froze. Thankfully you were between numbers so you were able to get your bearings quickly and continue thanking the crowd for their enthusiasm, but when you caught his eye a second time very much on purpose before holding your pointer finger up to the audience and then strutting upstage to talk to your band, Johnny’s stomach turned to lead. When you turned back around, you were looking at anyone but him.

“So the band and I were talking and we really want to thank you for being such a fantastic audience tonight. I mean, obviously I can stand up here and say ‘thank you’ a hundred times but I really don’t feel like that’s enough, you know? So to thank you, we wanted to give you guys a fun surprise. How does that sound?”

Everyone except Johnny squealed with excitement.

“I’ve been working on a new song the last few months while touring. And if it’s okay with you, I’d really like to sing it for you live for the very first time right now. Is that okay with you?”

If not for the sudden feeling of cotton in his ears, Johnny would have had to cover them with his hands with how loud the audience around him screamed. When you next locked eyes with him, you were smirking into the mic. Johnny gulped.

“This song is called ‘Casual.’”

Oh shit.

My friends call me a loser / 'Cause I'm still hanging around / I've heard so many rumors / That I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch

I thought you thought of me better / Someone you couldn't lose / You said, "We're not together" / So now when we kiss, I have anger issues

ELEVEN MONTHS AGO:

If you asked Johnny, he wouldn’t have been able to tell you what the gala was for. It was probably some fundraiser for charity or other that Reed organized so they could stay relevant, but Johnny had been to enough of them to know he wouldn’t be the one talking about anything of substance anyway, so he’d long since stopped paying attention. Normally these sorts of things were boring. The people with real money were the old, boring white collars with no personality aside from their wine and boat-in-a-bottle collections. Fortunately for Johnny though, this particular event seemed to be much more laid-back–younger crowds, louder music, shittier alcohol. And if there was a party, Johnny always had to be at the center of it. So there he was on a Friday night, getting drunk off his ass and grinding to the music with New York’s young elite.

He couldn’t tell you why you in particular stood out to him. There probably was a reason at some point but he was much too drunk at the time for it to stick in his mind for long. All he knows is that one moment he was standing at the bar and the next, he was downing the rest of Ben’s drink (ignoring the consequent protests), handing him back the glass, and making his way over to you. You were standing on the outskirts of the room, surrounded by similarly young and attractive girls who were chatting your ear off (or maybe it was the other way around). He wordlessly sidled up next to you, slipping an arm easily around your waist. You turned your head just enough to side-eye him, but you reluctantly allowed the gesture.

“Do I know you?” You asked stand-offishly.

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’ obnoxiously, “but you will. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

You looked over to your friends for approval and while they looked as suspicious as you, they generally shrugged in acquiescence.

“I don’t see why not.”

You looked him up and down appraisingly, handing off your drink to the girl next to you and allowing him to lead you across the room to a hidden corner.

“So? What did you so urgently need to pull me aside for?” You crossed your arms, stepping just out of his reach.

“Why so suspicious?” He raised his hands in surrender. “I just wanted to ask where you got that dress from.”

You cocked an eyebrow and he watched you search his face for an ulterior motive. Apparently finding none, you replied: “It’s Armani.”

“Armani?” He repeated, raising his eyebrows with intrigue. “Damn. It’s beautiful.”

You waited impatiently for the punchline.

“Would look better on my floor though,” he winked.

“There it is,” you rolled your eyes, unimpressed, before turning back toward your friends.

“Hey, come on!” He stepped in front of you, stretching his hands out to stop you. “Don’t be like that. Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“If you want to sleep with me, Johnny Storm, you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

“Full name!” He smirked, pleased. “I wasn’t sure you knew who I was for a second there.”

“I could spot your hot head from a mile away, Storm. And if I couldn’t, the terrible pickup line would have given you away.”

“Ouch,” he jokingly clutched at his chest. “Go figure. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

You leaned to the side to peek at your friends over his shoulder before sighing and giving him your name.

“Oh, shit. Like the singer?”

You nodded your head slowly, mockingly.

“Well damn, I really did hit the jackpot, didn’t I?”

“You know who I am?” You questioned him, not expecting him to enjoy your style of music.

“Duh, my sister won’t stop playing your music,” he tried to deflect onto Susan.

“And you know that because…?” You pushed.

He froze before awkwardly moving to rub at the back of his neck. “Because I… maybe… have listened to a few songs myself.”

“So the Johnny Storm is a fan,” you nodded, pleased with the revelation. “I’ll be sure to tell my publicist.”

“How about a deal?”

He took a risk and stepped toward you. You let him, though you pinched your eyebrows with skepticism.

“Go on.”

“You can tell your publicist whatever you want as long as you let me take you out of this place.”

You watched his cocky resolve flicker behind his eyes as you walked toward him, not stopping until your chest was pressed fully against his. You craned your neck to press your mouth right up against his ear.

“Only if you let me take you out of that suit afterwards.”

You’d be lying if you tried to pretend that was the last and only time you saw him. As much as you tried to resist (which admittedly wasn’t much), you continued seeing him. It was purely physical at first, him calling you at ridiculous times at night to fulfill a need or vice versa. But eventually, you found yourself seeking him out for reasons other than the physical. You craved his company so you’d invite him over for dinner or a movie, just in the privacy of your own apartment. When you finally visited the Baxter Building, it was only on the condition that you would be in-and-out and no one would see you. He’d been successful in sneaking you up to his room without anyone seeing. It was the getting you out that failed.

“Johnny, dinner!” A woman’s voice called and Johnny jolted away from your lips.

“Shit,” he muttered. “I gotta go.”

You blinked a couple of times, struggling to pull yourself out of the floaty headspace you always fell into when kissing Johnny.

“What?”

“You gotta go,” he grabbed your hand, pulling you up off the bed. “Come on, I’ll sneak you back out.”

You snatched your purse up off the floor as Johnny tugged you toward the bedroom door, opening it to make sure the coast was clear before dragging you quietly toward the front elevator. He’d just pressed the call button when the same female voice from before called out.

“Johnny, what are you doing over there?” The voice got louder as footsteps approached and Johnny shoved your hand away, covering his face with a groan. “I just told you that dinner was–.”

A beautiful blonde woman who bore some resemblance to Johnny turned the corner and did a double take when she saw you.

“Oh my god, you’re–!”

“Yes, hi, guilty as charged,” you giggled nervously. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

You stepped forward, outstretching a hand for her to shake.

“So you’re the girl Johnny’s been sneaking out to see!” She shook your hand with enthusiasm. “It’s so lovely to meet you! Please, you have to stay for dinner. I’ll have Ben set out an extra place for you.”

“We’re not together,” Johnny butted in, shattering the moment.

“What?” The blonde woman turned to face him, confusion glimmering across her face as you burned red with shame.

“We’re not together,” he reiterated. “Whatever you’re thinking… we’re just friends.”

“Oh,” she gasped, turning back to you. “Well, um, you’re still welcome to stay.”

“I would love to stay,” you smiled at her, embarrassment still burning at the back of your throat.

And as she pulled you away, you couldn’t help but turn around and glare daggers at Johnny before rounding the corner.

You said, "Baby, no attachment" / But we're / Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out / Is it casual now? / Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach / Is it casual now?

I know what you tell your friends / It's casual, if it's casual now / Then, baby, get me off again / If it's casual, it's casual now

TEN-AND-A-HALF MONTHS AGO:

You were in his car, one of the many but you couldn’t say which one this one was. It was dark when he picked you up in it and now you were god-knows-where, the passenger seat fully reclined as you laid half on top of him on it. You were tracing random patterns on his bare chest when he spoke.

“I’m gonna be away for a while.”

You stopped tracing.

“What?”

“She’s got a house on Long Beach,” he elaborated vaguely.

“Your mom?” It was a shot in the dark. You’d never spoken about his home life, nor yours. You didn’t do much speaking when you were together so you only knew about the people you’d met when you had dinner at the Baxter Building. He paused at your question, though you didn’t know why.

“My sister," he clarified. "She’s going up for a few weeks and me and her fiancé are going with her.”

“That sounds fun,” you remarked offhandedly.

“Yeah,” he snorts and you eye him, confused at what was so funny. “They told me to invite you, actually.”

You couldn't help the smile that crept onto your face.

“Johnny, I would love to–.”

“I told them you were busy.”

And then the smile was gone.

“Oh.”

It was silent for a moment, neither of you moving, both of you hardly breathing.

“Do you want me to take you home?”

“Not yet.”

You leaned up and kissed him again, drowning out the emotional turmoil that was rapidly threatening to consume your thoughts.

Dumb love, I love being stupid / Dream of us in a year / Maybe we'd have an apartment / And you'd show me off to your friends at the pier

TEN MONTHS AGO:

You hadn’t seen or heard from Johnny in a couple of weeks. Sure, he said he would be gone for a few weeks but you knew he had your number, which meant was a choice not to call you, not an inability to. Maybe you were just being stupid. You’d only been going out for a month, after all. And even calling it “going out” was a stretch. You had to face the truth at some point–you were just one of his conquests. He probably wasn’t even in Long Beach. He probably just needed an excuse to stop seeing you.

But as much as you tried to convince yourself of your idiocy, you couldn’t help but imagine having a life with him. You could get an apartment together or even just move into the Baxter Building with him. Either way, you wouldn’t mind. Maybe you could even have both and switch between them whenever you felt like it. Maybe next time he’d bring you to the Long Beach house and show you off to his family and whatever friends he probably had there.

Stop it, you scolded yourself. You’re being delusional. You have to move on.

That was when he knocked on your apartment door.

I know, "Baby, no attachment" / But we're / Knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out / Is it casual now? / Two weeks and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach / Is it casual now? / I know what you tell your friends / It's casual, if it's casual now / Then baby, get me off again / If it's casual, oh, oh, oh

It's hard being casual / When my favorite bra lives in your dresser / And it's hard being casual / When I'm on the phone talking down your sister

SIX MONTHS AGO:

“Please tell me he’s not with you,” Susan begged you over the phone. “Or that he is! Honestly, at this point I don’t know which is worse.”

Johnny watched you with amusement from where he was sprawled out across your sheets, naked as the day he was born. He definitely either saw Susan’s name pop up on your screen or heard her voice from across the room. Either way, he knew exactly who had called you and why.

“Uh… I’m not sure how to answer that question.”

You put a finger to your lips, making sure Johnny stayed quiet, before putting her on speaker.

“Well, if Johnny just so happens to be there, would you please remind him that we have a very public, very live television appearance that he’s supposed to attend which starts in twenty minutes.”

You caught Johnny’s eye and inwardly swore when you saw the sudden panic enveloping his face. He leapt out of bed, reaching for his own phone, and started whispering a chant of curse words when he saw what time it was. You threw your phone on your bed, ignoring Susan’s questions about what the noise was, and began throwing Johnny’s clothes from the floor at him. As he dressed himself, you began searching through your wardrobe for an outfit of your own that wouldn’t make it obvious from the wrinkles what you had been up to just before rushing to the studio.

“Um, yeah, I don’t know where he is, Susan. So sorry. But if I happen to see him or um, am able to get him on the phone, I’ll make sure to let him know.”

“Oh, god, I’m going to kill him the next time I see him. I swear, I’m going to take his phone away for a month!”

“You can’t do that, I’m an adult!” Johnny retorted absentmindedly as he fastened his belt before freezing.

“Jonathan Lowell Spencer Storm!” Susan bellowed from the other end of the phone.

“Damn it, Johnny!” You cursed him out as you desperately searched your wardrobe for your favorite bra.

“It’s in my dresser,” he reminded you, picking the phone up from your bed and handing it to you. “I’ll go. You stay here.”

“Johnny–,” you began to protest.

“I’ll get there faster if I flame on by myself anyway. I’ll see you later.”

He kissed your cheek before running out the door.

“Five minutes or I’m kicking your ass, Johnny!” Susan called after him.

“Susan, I am so sorry," you apologized on his behalf. "We lost track of time–.”

She just sighed.

“It’s not your fault. My brother is… not the most responsible person in the world, to say the least.”

You snorted.

“To say the least, yeah.”

“Okay, he’s a total blockhead.”

“You can say that again,” you rolled your eyes affectionately.

“But I love him,” Susan added. “And so do you, if I’m reading it correctly.”

“What!” You screeched. “No, I don’t. That’s ridiculous. I would never… Johnny’s…”

“He feels the same way about you, if it helps.”

“No, he doesn’t,” you replied honestly. “And even if he did, he would never admit it so I’ll take what I can get.”

“Hey–.”

“It’s fine, Susan. Have a good interview. I look forward to seeing it.”

You hung up.

And I try to be the chill girl / That holds her tongue and gives you space / I try to be the chill girl / But honestly, I'm not

THREE MONTHS AGO:

“I can’t do this anymore, Johnny.”

Johnny couldn’t tell you what had started the argument. To be perfectly honest, he’d thought the night had been going really well. He’d taken you to a fancy restaurant to celebrate right before you left for your big tour. You were in a secluded booth in the corner where no one would recognize you or even see you and… oh.

“Do what?” He blinked, forcing the lighthearted smile to remain on his face.

“Do this,” You gestured to the restaurant around you. “Going out on dates and pretending like everything is fine.”

“I thought everything was fine,” Johnny protested.

“It’s not, Johnny!” You smacked your hands on the table causing the silverware to clank together. “It never has been!”

“Tell me how you really feel,” he grumbled under his breath.

“Johnny, you can’t just… introduce me to your family, and kiss me, and take me on dates for months and then pretend like there’s nothing there. Like there’s nothing between us. I can’t… I can’t go on tour for six months wondering how you feel about me–if you think about me, if you’re waiting for me, if you’ll even want me when I come back.”

“I told you at the beginning, baby. I’m a no-attachment kind of guy.”

“Well, it doesn’t feel very no-attachment, Johnny!” You snapped at him and his jaw snapped shut. “Look, I try to be the chill girl that holds her tongue and gives you space when you need it but honestly? I’m not. I’m not like that, Johnny. I love you, and if you don’t love me back then I think we’re done.”

“You think we’re done?”

“That’s all you have to say? After all that?”

Well, Johnny never claimed not to be an asshole. And he certainly never did things halfway.

“Well I don’t love you, so if that’s how you feel then maybe you should just go.”

You sat there, panting, choking back the tears you refused to let him see if he was going to treat you like that after everything you’d been through over the last eight months.

“Go to hell, Johnny Storm.”

You grabbed your coat and purse and ran out of the restaurant. That was the last time he saw you.

Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out / Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her Long Beach house / I know what you tell your friends / Baby, get me off again

I fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner / Your parents at the table, you wonder why I'm bitter / Bragging to your friends, I get off when you hit it / I hate to tell the truth, but I'm sorry, dude, you didn't / I hate that I let this drag on so long, now I hate myself / Hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell

PRESENT:

It was the last thing you’d said to him. “Go to hell.” He deserved it, in all honesty. It was true that he’d never been one for attachment. Meeting you, sleeping with you, continuing to see you even when he knew it was a bad idea, it was all the biggest mistake he’d ever made. But he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since you walked out on him, and seeing you up there onstage just cemented it–it was also the best mistake he’d ever made. And as he looked down at the wristband adorning his wrist, he made a vow to himself: He was going to fix things with you. No matter what it took.

#johnny storm #human torch #fantastic four #fantastic 4 #mcu #marvel #johnny storm x reader #johnny storm x you #johnny storm fanfiction #johnny storm fic #the human torch #the fantastic four #susan storm #deadpool and wolverine #chris evans characters #chris evans #chris evans x reader #Spotify

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wolverigrl · 6 months ago

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Scorched Earth

Logan Howlett x mutant reader

!Disclaimer! Y/n is a mutant with the same skills as the human torch! Let me know if you'd like to read another part!

Warnings: mentioning of alcohol and death, angst

Enjoy!

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“Bobby, for real, you can’t possibly think that’s better than mine!” I laughed, leaning back on the chair in the kitchen, feet propped up on the table. Across from me, my brother grinned, folding his arms over his chest with that cocky smirk of his.

“You’re just jealous I got the better nickname.” Bobby replied, his voice light, teasing. “Iceman? It’s sleek, it’s cool - literally - and it fits me.”

I snorted, rolling my eyes. “Oh, please. ‘Iceman’ sounds like the title of some second-rate action movie. Meanwhile, I’m lighting up the sky over here.”

Bobby raised a brow, feigning offense. “That’s a lot of talk from someone who’s still stuck with ‘Firecracker.’ ”

I punched him lightly on the arm. “I’ll take ‘Firecracker’ any day over your ‘cool’ puns.”

Our banter was easy, the kind that came naturally after years of being siblings. Bobby had always been the steady one, the one who could calm everyone down with a joke, while I was the hothead - pun intended - never one to back down from a challenge. It’s what made us a good team, even if we drove each other crazy half the time.

The way he carried himself, his calm demeanor, and his unwavering sense of control over his powers - everything I wasn't.

I was the fire to his ice, the chaos to his calm. We clashed often, but it wasn’t because we didn’t care. It was because we cared too much. And despite all the bickering, all the teasing, there was a bond between us that no one could break. I’d die for him. He was my anchor when my temper flared, my tether to reality when my powers spiraled out of control.

Just as I was about to throw another sarcastic remark his way, Logan walked into the room, his usual gruff self. He barely acknowledged us, heading straight for the fridge. Typical.

“Hey, Logan!” I called, a mischievous grin spreading across my face. “Did you finally get that stick outta your ass, or is it still lodged in there pretty good?”

Logan froze mid reach for a beer, then slowly turned his head, giving me the look - the one that said 'I am not in the mood for your crap right now, bub.' But that just made it more fun.

“Don’t you have somethin’ better to do, hotshot?” he growled, slamming the fridge shut and twisting the cap off his beer with more force than necessary. “Or do you just live to run your mouth?”

I smirked, unfazed. “You know, it’s funny you say that, because I’ve noticed you love listening to me. Maybe it’s because no one else has the guts to call you out on your eternal grumpiness?”

Bobby snickered from beside me, enjoying the show. “She’s got a point, man. You’re not exactly known for your sunny disposition.”

Logan shot Bobby a glare before turning his attention back to me. “Maybe I’m grumpy ‘cause some people around here don’t know when to shut up.”

“Oh, come on, Logan. You’d miss me if I didn’t poke at you every now and then.” I said, leaning forward with a grin. “Admit it - you secretly love the banter.”

Logan let out a low, frustrated growl, shaking his head as he took a long swig from his beer. “The day I admit that, is the day hell freezes over. And even then, I’ll blame Bobby.”

Bobby grinned, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, don’t drag me into your weird dynamic. I’m just the innocent bystander.”

I shot Bobby a mock glare. “Innocent? You? Yeah, sure. Tell that to the last five people you pranked.”

Logan huffed, clearly done with the conversation, but I wasn’t quite finished yet. “You know, Logan.” I continued, leaning back again and stretching my arms behind my head, “You really oughta work on that sunny disposition. You’re gonna give yourself wrinkles with all that frowning.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, jaw clenching. “Why don’t you mind your own damn business and keep that fire of yours under control?”

“Oh, I keep it very controlled, thank you very much.” I said, flashing a smile. “Besides, you seem to enjoy living dangerously. Why else would you keep hanging around us?”

Logan shook his head, muttering something under his breath before retreating to his usual corner of the room, beer in hand, grumbling the entire way. Bobby leaned in toward me, his voice low enough so only I could hear.

“I still think you’re his favorite.”

I laughed quietly, watching Logan brood from across the room. “Nah, he just hasn’t figured out how to handle all of this yet.” I gestured to myself with a playful smirk.

“Sure, that’s what it is.” Bobby chuckled, leaning back with a relaxed sigh.

Despite Logan’s gruff attitude and my constant teasing, there was a kind of unspoken respect between us. He was the first to step in when things got dangerous, always willing to put himself on the line for the team. And even though he’d never admit it, I knew he appreciated having someone who wasn’t afraid to challenge him, to call him out when he was being extra cranky. In a way, it kept things balanced.

Bobby and I exchanged another look, both of us knowing exactly how this dynamic worked. I teased Logan, Logan growled, and the world kept spinning. It was our version of normal - a delicate balance of sarcasm, snark, and the occasional grumpy Wolverine glare.

It was one of those rare moments when everything felt light, even if just for a little while. Days like these, with Bobby teasing me, and Logan grumbling from across the room, were the best. I’d give anything to hold onto them.

But life as an X-Men had a way of reminding you that those moments could be fleeting.

And I didn’t know then just how fleeting they would be.

Todays mission was supposed to be a standard takedown. Another mutant extremist group, radicalized and bent on 'mutant supremacy'. Charles had briefed us thoroughly, and we had faced worse before. Or at least we thought we had.

It went south almost immediately. We were outnumbered, and it was clear that our enemies had intel we weren’t prepared for. They knew where we would be, how we would strike, and worse - they knew how to separate us. That was when things really started to fall apart.

The battlefield was a mess of chaos and screaming. Blasts of energy, ice, and fire lit up the sky, while the air howled with the sound of Storm’s winds tearing through enemy lines. I was a blur of fire and fury, every step a combustion of flame as I ripped through the chaos, throwing up walls of fire to keep enemies at bay. But no matter how hard we fought, there were too many. We were getting spread thin. Too thin.

I caught sight of Bobby ahead of me, just in time to see him raise an enormous ice wall to shield a group of our teammates. His back was to me, and before I could shout a warning, a blast from one of the enemy’s weapons slammed into him, sending him sprawling across the ground.

“Bobby!” I screamed, my heart lurching.

He struggled to get up, one knee bent, but the blast had been too much. His walls of ice began to crack and crumble around him. Panic rose in my throat like bile. He was surrounded, the enemies closing in.

I pushed forward, flames erupting from my palms as I blasted through the mob, trying to reach him. “Hang on, I’m coming!” I shouted, but my voice barely cut through the cacophony of combat.

But I wasn’t fast enough.

Before I could get to him, a second blast hit him. The impact was devastating. I saw his body jerk violently before he collapsed, crumpling like a rag doll on the cold, scorched ground. Time seemed to slow, my breath caught in my throat, and everything else faded away.

“No!” My scream tore from my chest, broken and raw, but there was nothing I could do.

He was still, too still.

I scrambled toward him, my flames fizzling out as I dropped to my knees beside his body. I reached out, hands trembling as I gently touched his face. His skin was cold, colder than it should have been. His chest didn’t rise. His eyes were closed. My pulse pounded in my ears, but I couldn't hear anything except the roaring silence in my own head.

He was gone.

“Bobby, please…” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Please don’t leave me.”

I don’t know how long I sat there, holding him, begging for him to come back. I couldn’t save him. I. Couldn’t. Save. Him.

Then, something broke inside me.

The grief, the rage, the helplessness - everything surged at once, overwhelming every rational thought. The fire inside me, the power I always tried to control, flared up in an instant. It wasn’t just fire anymore - it was fury, pure and uncontrollable.

Flames erupted from my body, hotter and fiercer than they ever had before. I screamed, the sound ripping through the air as fire exploded in all directions, a supernova of heat and light. The ground beneath me cracked, molten lava seeping from the earth as the intensity of my power burned through everything in its path.

I couldn’t stop it. I didn’t want to.

The flames raged out, consuming everything they touched. The enemy soldiers who had killed Bobby screamed as they were incinerated, their bodies turning to ash in mere seconds. The ground smoked, trees around us igniting in a blaze, and the air became thick with heat.

Jean’s voice echoed in my mind, faint, as if she was shouting at me from the end of a long tunnel. “Y/n, stop! You have to stop!” Her voice was desperate, but I couldn’t listen. Couldn’t hear her over the roaring firestorm inside me.

Storm tried to summon her winds, pulling clouds thick with rain to douse the flames, but it wasn’t enough. Even the sky couldn’t hold back the inferno that had taken over me. I felt her power strain against mine, but my emotions fueled the fire, making it burn hotter, stronger. I was losing control completely, my body heating up like the core of a star.

“Y/n! You’re going to kill everyone!” Scott shouted through the comm, his voice barely audible over the roaring flames. I could see them, all of them, struggling to get away from the heat, the fire spreading in every direction.

Charles reached out, trying to touch my mind, but I was beyond reach. His calming presence couldn’t get through the thick walls of grief and rage that had consumed me.

I was going to burn everything. Everyone.

Then, through the haze of heat and fire, I saw him.

Logan.

He was moving toward me, slow and steady, ignoring the screams of the others as they begged him to stop.

“Logan, no! You’ll die!” Jean’s voice, frantic, but he didn’t listen.

“Logan, don’t!” Storm shouted, the wind whipping around her, but he kept walking, one foot in front of the other, his eyes locked on mine.

I couldn’t stop the fire. I was too far gone, too lost in my own power. The heat radiated off me in waves, scorching everything in its path, and yet he kept coming.

His skin started to blister almost immediately. The heat was unbearable, even from where I stood. I could see his face contorting in pain, could smell the sickening scent of burning flesh as he got closer. His clothes were already charred, the leather of his jacket melting and fusing to his skin. But he didn’t stop.

I wanted to scream at him to get back, to stop, but the words wouldn’t come. All I could do was watch in horror as he walked into the flames, his healing factor struggling to keep up as his body was scorched by the heat I was putting off.

And then he was there, standing right in front of me, his skin bright red, his hands trembling as the fire licked at his skin. His face was a mask of pain, sweat and blood mixing with the charred burns that covered his arms and neck. But his eyes, his eyes were steady.

“Y/n.” he said, his voice low and raspy, strained from the pain. “You need to stop.”

“I can’t!” I gasped, my breath catching as the flames flared up again, fueled by the storm of emotions inside me. “I can’t control it. I-I’m going to kill you, Logan!”

“I don’t care!" he growled, taking another step closer, his boots melting into the molten ground. His body trembled, his skin bubbling and cracking under the heat, but he didn’t back down. “I’m not leaving you.”

Tears streamed down my face, evaporating the moment they hit the air.

His eyes locked onto mine, unwavering, even as the flames licked at his skin. His face contorted in pain, but he didn’t stop.

“Bub.” he rasped, his voice hoarse from the heat. “You need to let go. I know it hurts, but you gotta stop.”

I couldn’t hear him over the roar of the fire. I was too far gone. The heat, the flames, my emotions - it was all consuming me. I was a supernova, and there was no pulling back.

Logan took another step. His healing factor was working overtime, but even he couldn’t withstand this for long. Yet, he didn’t hesitate.

“Y/n!” Logan yelled, louder this time, and I felt his words cut through the haze. “I know what it’s like! To lose someone - hell, to lose everyone! You feel like you’re gonna burn up inside. You feel like it’ll never stop, like you’ll never breathe again. But this ain’t the way!”

I felt the fire flare around me, almost as if it were trying to drown out his words. I wanted to listen, but the grief, the rage - it was still so raw. Bobby was gone. How could I stop the fire when everything inside me was screaming to let it burn?

But Logan didn’t back off. He stepped into the heart of the inferno, his arms opening, and wrapped me in a hug. The flames surged as they met his body, and I could feel his skin burning under my touch. I could smell it. His face twisted in agony, but he didn’t pull away.

“Let it out, hotshot. Let it all out,” Logan whispered, his voice softer now, almost tender. “But don’t burn yourself with it. You ain’t alone. I’m here.”

I could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, his breaths ragged from the heat, but his arms around me were steady, grounding. In that moment, the fire faltered, flickering as my mind struggled to grasp what was happening.

Logan - the one person who could barely stand to be in the same room as me without a sarcastic remark - was holding me, burning alive in my fire, all because he wouldn’t leave me alone in my pain.

And then, I felt it.

The fire started to die down, the flames retreating into my skin as I began to sob against his chest. The heat that had consumed me so completely, so violently, began to ebb, leaving behind only the suffocating weight of grief. Logan’s chest was soaked with my tears as I clung to him, my body shaking with the force of my cries.

“I couldn’t save him, Logan." I choked out between sobs. “I couldn’t- ”

“I know." Logan murmured, his voice rough but soothing. “I know, bub. It’s not your fault.”

The last of the flames flickered out, and the air around us was suddenly cooler, still. Logan’s body, still blistered and burnt in places, didn’t move. He just held me tighter, letting me cry into his chest, never once letting go. I buried my face into the fabric of his ruined shirt, his heartbeat the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.

After what felt like forever, I became aware of the world around me again. The sounds of the battlefield had quieted. Jean, Storm, and the others were slowly approaching, their faces a mix of worry and relief.

“We need to get back to the mansion,” Scott said, his voice soft but firm. “Y/n, Logan… let’s go.”

Logan didn’t move to let me go, and I didn’t want him to. The thought of being alone right now, without the steady warmth of his presence, was unbearable.

“Can you walk?” Hank asked me.

Logan shook his head, giving a low grunt of pain as he stood up, still cradling me in his arms. “I got her.”

I felt Logan’s arms adjust under me as he began to walk, carrying me like I weighed nothing. I should’ve been worried about him, should’ve told him to let me go, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I pressed my face into his chest, feeling the burn marks on his skin, the roughness of his wounds. He was hurting because of me, but he didn’t care.

The journey back to the mansion felt like a blur, the sounds of the battlefield fading into silence as Logan carried me, step after step, his breathing labored but determined. I clung to him, my body exhausted, but my mind still racing with grief and guilt.

When we finally reached the mansion, Logan carried me straight to my room. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and laid me gently on my bed. His face was tense with pain, but his movements were careful and protective.

I reached out, grabbing his wrist as he turned to leave. “Don’t go... please.” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I-I don’t wanna be alone.”

Logan’s eyes softened, just for a moment. He gave a small nod and sat down on the edge of the bed, his weight making the mattress dip slightly. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to offer any more words of comfort, and for that, I was thankful. I didn’t need words. I just needed him to stay.

I curled into his side, my head resting against his chest once again. His heartbeat was slower now, more even, though his body was still warm from the burns. He didn’t flinch when I pressed closer, seeking the comfort of his presence. His arm wrapped around me, holding me close, and for the first time since Bobby died, I felt a small flicker of something like peace.

As I sobbed into Logan’s chest, my body exhausted from the emotional and physical strain, I felt his hand gently stroke my hair. He didn’t say anything, just let me cry. His presence as steady as the heartbeat beneath my cheek.

The tears slowly began to subside, my body relaxing into his as the exhaustion took over. I was grateful for the silence, grateful for the way Logan just was - strong, unyielding, and never pushing me for more than I could give.

Eventually, my eyes grew heavy, the grief and pain pulling me into a restless sleep. The last thing I remembered was the feel of Logan’s hand still in my hair, his quiet strength wrapping around me like a protective shield.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself drift into sleep, safe in his arms.

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bakubitchhh · 6 days ago

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Imagine a phoenix reader or human torch in an invincible fic!!! Just a thought :’)

#invincible x reader #invincible #mark grayson x reader #mark grayson #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #ao3 #mark grayson x oc #the phoenix #dark phoenix #the human torch #human torch #jean grey

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ro-is-struggling · 7 months ago

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First Impressions || Johnny Storm x Reader

Summary: the story of how you and Johnny met the morning after he slept with your roommate

THIS IS PART 1 OF MY MINI-SERIES FIREPROOF! Masterlist + info HERE

Warnings: Johnny is a bit of an ass (but that’s kinda like his thing in this lol)

English is not my first language

Word count: 1200

Notes: this is a lot shorter than the rest of the parts will be bucause originally it was only going to be a flashback, but I hope you guys like it!!

Johnny was being careful this time, tiptoeing down the hallway as he got dressed. He had learned the hard way that shoes were best left for last, they made a lot of noise when he stepped on the wooden boards that creaked under his feet and alerted the girl sleeping on the bed to his intentions. That wasn't a mistake he would make again —not after the scene Kate made when she discovered him trying to flee the morning after he met her—, so now he always made sure to put his shoes on once he was out of his latest conquest's apartment.

He thought he was in the clear. The front door was in his vision and he could still hear the subtle sound of Allie's? —he wanted to say that was her name, but wasn't sure— snoring coming from the room. However, the sound of someone clearing their throat made him stop in his tracks. Turning around, Johnny found you sitting at the kitchen island eating breakfast.

“Sneaking out, huh?” your eyes didn't lift from your phone as you spoke to him. But you didn't need to do so to know he had an uncomfortable expression on his face at having been caught in the act.

“No.” Johnny lied. “I just...”

“I have commitment issues that won't let me stay to say goodbye to the girl who sucked my dick the night before?” You answered for him, finally looking up to look at him. “I figured.”

“I was going to say I have an early class... but I guess that works too.”

“Oh, an early class, sure.” Your unimpressed tone let Johnny know you didn't believe him one bit.

As he awkwardly put on his shoes he took a moment to get a better look at you. He remembered that Allie —let's go with that— had told him she had a roommate and now that he got a better look at you, your face looked familiar. He had definitely seen you around campus and probably had taken some classes together, but he couldn't think of your name if his life depended on it. He wasn't very good at it, apparently.

“Are those pancakes?” Johnny asked curiously, his stomach growling at the smell of food. It made sense given that the night before he'd barely eaten before going straight to business.

“Yes... You want some?” You looked at him with an arched eyebrow and he nodded enthusiastically.

“Please!” He didn't wait for your response before approaching the kitchen and taking a seat next to you. He helped himself to a plate as if he were in his own home, groaning with pleasure as he put a bite of food in his mouth.

“What about your early class?”

“Oh, my buddy can cover for me.” Johnny spoke with a mouthful of food and you let out a giggle.

It was honestly surreal to have Johnny Storm, the womanizer everyone on campus swooned over, having breakfast in your apartment. Your friend had been trying to get his attention for a long time —and somehow you always ended up in the middle of it—, but when she asked you to disappear for a night from the apartment you didn't think it was because of him. You were happy for her, but at the same time you hoped she hadn't gotten her hopes up for him. Johnny wasn't a complete asshole, but from the way he tried to sneak away without being discovered you couldn't imagine that anything good would come of it. And from the way your friend talked about him, you doubted she'd settle for a one-night stand. So it was your job to protect her from her own heart and the antics of the biggest player on campus.

“You want some coffee?” You asked him after a moment of silence. Your voice seemed to snap him out of a trance, forcing him to stop thinking about how delicious those pancakes were and bring his attention back to reality.

“Sure!” He nodded with a smile and you got up to get a clean cup.

You poured him a cup of hot coffee fresh from the pot. The scent flooded the room and you could see in Johnny's tired eyes how much he wanted to savor the steaming liquid. When you placed the cup on the counter he reached out for it. However, you pulled it away before his fingers could close around the handle.

“What are your intentions with my friend?”

Johnny's confused expression turned to an amused one as he realized he had fallen into your trap. “Oh, it was a trick coffee. I see.”

“Yes, coffee is for talkers. Now talk.”

He laughed at your accusatory tone, but when he noticed your stern expression he realized you were serious. “I don't know, we're just getting to know each other.” Johnny said, scratching the back of his head. Actually he did know the answer to your question. He wasn't a fan of serious relationships, but he never ruled out the possibility of a casual second meeting with anyone.

“Well, you better figure it out! And you better tell Ellie about it!”

Oh, so that was her name!

“I mean it, she is a sweet girl and she's been trying to get your attention for a long time. She doesn't deserve to have you messing with her.”

“I wasn't going to!” Johnny threw his hands up in the air in a defensive manner. “If anything I was trying to let her know my stance on the relationship by sneaking out but you kinda ruined it. So if anything, it's your fault.”

“Please tell me you're joking.” You huffed, unable to believe what you were hearing. Although from the reputation he had on campus, you shouldn't be surprised. “Sneaking out is not communication! It only creates more confusion. You have to use your words, like the rest of us grown ups.”

“But talking about it makes everything more... messy and complicated.”

“Well, you better make it less complicated real fast or I will.” You threatened him, finally passing him the cup of coffee you had held hostage to make sure Johnny heard you. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma'am!” he assured you with an amused smile before raising the cup to his lips.

Johnny couldn't describe exactly what it was, but there was something about you that he really liked. The way you snapped at him, using that tone of voice that was at times serious and at times sarcastic, was refreshing. He was used to women reacting in the opposite way to his presence —always watching what they said and acting flirtatious to get his attention. Most of the time it took him ages to understand what they wanted or expected from him because they refused to be direct. He was not a mind reader and had no time to waste, so he appreciated your honesty, even if it was a bit brutal. He knew at that moment that he wanted to get to know you better. There was something that told him that your story wasn't over, even if his relationship with Ellie was.

And he wasn't wrong.

#johnny storm x reader #human torch x reader #johnny storm x fem reader #johnny storm #fantastic four #human torch #johnny storm fluff #johnny storm angst #johnny storm imagine #johnny storm fanfiction #fireproof series

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komotionlessqueenmm · 7 months ago

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Storm & Blaze

(1-1)

Short story # 22

Gifs NOT mine.

Summary - You were once friends with Reed, and when he calls asking for some assistance on a project, you're happy to offer him a helping hand. But the moment you enter the lab, Johnny finds himself completely smitten. And when he learns who and what you are, he truly believes you're the one for him.

Year posted - 2024

Rating - SFW

Reading time (roughly) - 10 minutes

Johnny is OOC af but what do you expect?

"Wait so why can't you finish this project?" Johnny asked for the fifth time in the past hour. Ben groaned in annoyance. "I told you, an old friend of mine has the final piece to this project." Reed explained, growing impatient waiting for his old companion. "What do you mean they have the final piece?" Johnny pried, confused as to why someone Reed hadn't spoke to in years, would have something so important to him. "Look you're just going to have to-" But Reed was cut off when the lab doors swung open, a woman dressed in a black leather jacket, with a large chain wrapped diagonally across her torso, skin tight skinny jeans, and killer combat boots, strutted in as if she owned the place. "You're finally here." Reed breathed a sigh of relief, while the others were stunned into a silence. "Sorry about that, ran into some trouble on my way over." She said with a cunning grin, her voice making Johnny's heart jump in his chest. "Everything okay?" Reed asked as he met her halfway across the large lab. "Nothing I couldn't handle." She shrugged casually, her eyes practically glowing as she looked at the others.

"Oh right." Reed chuckled before turning to his friends, ushering (Y/n) over to them silently. "Guys this is my old friend (Y/n) Blaze." Reed introduced her to them, Susan approaching her first. "It's great to finally meet you, I'm Susan Storm." She smiled brightly at (Y/n), who shook her hand with a kind grin. "This is my brother-" She turned to introduce her brother, only for him to practically shove his way passed her. "Johnny Storm." He stuck his hand out with a charming smile, his skin feeling hot when she shook his hand. "Ben Grimm." The largest of the group introduced, offering his hand for a moment, then pulling away thinking better on it. "Well it's a pleasure to meet you all." (Y/n) hummed with an amused grin, her attention turning to Reed when he grasped her elbow. "I'm really glad you came." He said, silently leading her to the equipment he was working on. "Let's get to it." (Y/n) mused, sensing his eagerness to get on with it. "It's right over here. I probably should have waiting before installing it, but the rod is just through here." Reed pointed to the small gap in the side of the machine. (Y/n) peered inside, her eyes landing on a rod that glew a dull shade of purple. "What do you need me to do?" She asked as she observed the rest of the mechanism.

"Essentially I need you to give it a jump start... You know... With your ability." He murmured the last part, feeling a little guilty for dragging her all the way out here for something that seemed a little trivial. "What's it for?" She asked as she faced her old friend, ignoring the eyes that practically burned into the side of her head. "It's a machine that will contain Johnny's powers, in case he looses control, or just needs to let off some steam." Reed winced at the pun, clearing his throat. "What's his power exactly?" (Y/n) asked curiously, and before Reed had a chance to explain, Johnny appeared at her side. "I can control fire." He said with a charming smile, allowing his hand and forearm to burst into flames. "That's ironic." (Y/n) chuckled as she smiled at Reed, who found her words equally amusing. Though Johnny, Susan, and Ben were a bit confused. "Alright back up, don't know how this will go." (Y/n) said as she turned her attention back to the machine. Reed and Johnny took her advice, and stepped several feet away. "You ever tell them about me?" She asked as she glanced back at her old friend, who looked a bit bashful. "No I didn't." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a little bad, despite the fact that they hadn't been close in years. "Okay. Well no matter what happens, don't touch me." (Y/n) said as she looked to the others, who seemed confused though they still nodded their heads in agreement.

Content with that, (Y/n) turned back to the machine, reaching her arm deep into the gap, until her fingers wrapped around the rod. Susan wanted to protest, knowing it wasn't safe for anyone to touch the rod with their bare hands, but Reed stopped her, placing a comforting hand onto her shoulder. (Y/n) shuddered at the electrifying sensation that burned up her arm. "Fuck." She breathed out softly, tapping just barely into her power. Her eyes glew brightly as the rod began blazing with life, a horrifying screeching sound echoed throughout the lab. Everyone but (Y/n) clutched their ears, hissing in pain. (Y/n) grunted a gutteral primal sound, her skin burning and turning a bright shade of red. "Let go!" Reed hollered, knowing it had done the trick, and if she kept at it, she might actually bring the machine to life. (Y/n) hissed as she released the now bright glowing rod, pulling her arm out to inspect the damage. Susan gasped at the sight of (Y/n)'s fingers, which had turned a deep shade of black. The woman seemed unconcerned about the development however, wiggling her fingers to make sure they still worked before letting her arm fall back to her side.

"You did it!" Reed gushed as he rushed around the machine to run a few tests. "Glad to help." (Y/n) hummed, her skin slowly cooling, and fading back to its natural tone. "What the fuck?" Johnny breathed out in utter surprise, having been watching her closer than anyone else. (Y/n) glanced his way, and shot him a casual wink. "How did you do that?" Susan asked in astonishment, approaching the machine she had thought would be a lost cause. "He really didn't tell you guys anything about me huh." (Y/n) said with a chuckle, shaking her head a little with a grin. "He never even told us your name." Ben stated gruffly. "Sounds about right." (Y/n) said with an amused roll of her eyes. "Are any of you familiar with the name Johnny Blaze?" She asked as she moved to lean against a large metal table. "Wasn't he that stunt motorcyclist?" Ben asked, to which (Y/n) nodded in agreement. "And my father." She added, the news making Johnny wince inwardly, knowing he shared the same first name as her father. "Didn't he like go awol and disappear years ago?" Ben asked, and (Y/n) clicked her tongue. "Something like that I suppose. Anyways the point is he made a mistake when he was younger, a futile attempt to save his dad. He sold his soul to a demon by the name of Mephisto." She could see the skeptical looks in each of their eyes, something she was used to.

"Anyways it changed him, he was unknowingly bonded with another demon by the name of Zarathos. It's where his power comes from." She thought for a moment before correcting herself. "Came from." She shrugged casually, and while they seemed to find her story odd, they listened intently. "And well when I was a teenager I made the exact same mistake as my father. In exchange for annulling my father's contract, I would take his place, and take up the mantle of Ghost Rider." She licked her lips, pushing off of the table. "I sold my soul, and became a spirit of vengeance." She said as she held her hands out at her sides. Reed had come back around the machine just in time to see her burst into flames, her skin muscle and tissue melting away in an instant, leaving her a skeleton, her clothes unaffected by the flames. The laugh that rumbled in her hollow chest, sounded like the devil himself. Susan had jumped back in surprise, Ben watched with curiosity, And it took everything in Johnny not to tackle her in a hug. Feeling as if he'd found the other half of his soul, his eyes sparkled with astonishment, hypnotized by the flames that lapped at where her skin had been.

Without really thinking Johnny strode towards her, feeling the intense heat of her flames with every step. "Flame on." He muttered as he neared her, ruining his clothes that burned away the instant his body engulfed in flames. (Y/n) observed him with a small tilt of her head, her bony hand reaching out to touch his chest. Another laugh rumbled from her, sounding sinister and dangerous. "(Y/n)." Reed called out to her, afraid she might try using her Penance Stare on Johnny. She looked at Reed for a moment, then back to Johnny, who couldn't tare his eyes away from her. "Johnny what are you doing?" Susan hissed at her brother, who ignored her, as he placed his hands onto (Y/n)'s waist, surprised to find that she didn't feel like a skeleton, but a whole person. (Y/n) in turn wrapped her arms around his neck, anticipating what he might do next. "Don't so anything stupid!" Susan hissed at her brother. Who tightened his grip, and pulled (Y/n) flush against his chest, her clothes still unaffected by the added heat, he suddenly flew them out of the tower. The demonic sound of her laughter made something buzz in Johnny's chest, as he flew them far from New York, and high into the great rocky mountains.

When he landed, they simultaneously extinguished their flames. Leaving Johnny standing there as naked as the day he was born, and (Y/n) looking human once more. "Couldn't keep your hands to yourself huh?" She asked with a teasing grin, still standing chest to chest with him. "Not really." He admitted with a smirk, observing the fine details of her face. "I feel like I'm being pulled towards you, like I'm meant to hold you in my arms." Johnny admitted, more sincere about his admission, than anything else in his life. "I just told you I sold my soul to a demon, and that I am bonded with another demon. And you're infatuated." (Y/n) chuckled with a grin, humming in her throat when Johnny nodded his head in agreement. "You might just be the strangest man I've ever met." She added in a playful tone. "But you like strange don't you?" Johnny asked, slowly inching his face closer to (Y/n)'s. "What makes you so sure?" She taunted, despite finding herself leaning in as well. "We were made for eachother." Johnny stated confidently, finally closing the gap between them. Fire ignited at their feet, and made its way further up their legs, stopping just at their chests as they deepened the kiss.

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delicatebarness · 7 months ago

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bridges to burn | chapter one

Summary: Struggling with the pressures of the compound, you seek an escape leading to you meeting another not much less like yourself.

Warning: Sexual Tensions and Implied Sex. Smoking. Uncontrolled Powers.

Word Count: 2030

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A/N: Flame on? Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

The first few days at the compound you tried to keep to yourself, barely leaving your room. The weight of your situation, and the simmering tension between Bucky and yourself, kept you in your own head, and you found solace in solitude. Yet, as the days went by, the four grey walls of your room started to feel like you were being locked within The Raft.

The compound was quiet one restless night, and you decided you needed to get outside and fill your lungs with fresh air. The halls were empty as you slipped out of your room, making your way toward the grounds. The cold air of night soothed your flaring skin, a welcomed change from the suffocating indoors.

As you reached a secluded spot near the edge of the property, you pulled out a cigarette. Fishing through your pockets, your frustration grew as you realized you’d forgotten your lighter. Quickly glancing around, you contemplated using your powers, but the fear of losing control held you back.

Suddenly, you heard a soft click behind you. As you turned your hand began glowing as you raised it toward the sound, and you saw a man, not much older than yourself, standing there, his thumb ablaze with a small, controlled flame. He was tall, with a chiseled jawline and an easy, confident grin. He was, clearly, the type of guy who knew exactly how good he looked and wasn’t shy about it.

“Need a light?” he asked, the flame dancing merrily.

You couldn’t help the smile spreading across your face at the unexpected assistance. “Yeah, actually. Thanks–” you said, leaning in to light your cigarette. The tension in your shoulders eased as you took a drag, then exhaled slowly.

“I’m Johnny,” he introduced himself, extinguishing the flame with a casual flick of his wrist, “Johnny Storm.”

Recognizing the name, you raised an eyebrow toward him. “Wait, Johnny Storm? As in, The Human Torch, Johnny Storm?”

“The one and only,” he said with a mock bow before shooting you a wink. “And, you must be Stark’s daughter. I’ve heard a bit about you.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” you nodded, your tone filled with annoyance. “I’m still getting used to this place, and just needed some fresh air.”

Leaning against a nearby tree, Johnny's posture relaxed. “I get that. This place can be a lot. Especially with all the… expectations.”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered, taking another drag. “It feels like I’ve been under a microscope since I got here.”

Johnny nodded sympathetically. “It’s not easy being part of a team, especially when everyone is watching your every move,” he paused, sending you a knowing look. “But, it’s not all bad, just gotta find your own rhythm.”

Appreciating his straightforwardness, you chuckled slightly. “It’s just… I’ve never been known for playing by the rules.”

“Rules are overrated,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Sometimes you’ve got to break a few to get where you’re going.”

You smiled, and a feeling of ease coursed through your body. “I think I’m going to like you, Flame Boy.”

He flashed that grin again, his gaze wandering over your figure, lingering a moment longer. “The feeling’s mutual, Firecracker,” he said with a playful smirk. “And by the way… you’re hot.”

You rolled your eyes, taking his comment in stride. “Was that supposed to be a compliment, or are you just making a play on this?” Smirking, you let your irises begin to shift, their usual coloring draining away as they ignited into a fiery, glowing orange.

Johnny’s smirk only widened as he witnessed the transformation in your eyes. “Oh, I definitely meant it as a compliment,” he said, a notch dropping in his voice. Taking a step closer, his played demeanor added a new edge of curiosity. “I bet you’re full of surprises, Firecracker.”

You smirked, and Johnny’s eyes lingered on your glowing irises for another moment, intrigued. “Well, it has been a pleasure, but I should probably get back before Reed sends out another search party,” he quipped, flashing that grin once more.

With a wink, Johnny stepped back, his hands raising in a casual wave. “Flame on!” he called, and instantly his body ignited in a brilliant, controlled blaze. The heat radiating from him would have been intense if you weren’t already accustomed to it. You watched in awe as the flame flickered and danced around him like they had a life of their own. Shooting into the air, he left a trail of fire as he soared back toward the compound, the fiery streak cut through the dark sky.

As you continued to watch him disappear into the night, a voice from the shadows startled you.

“He’s an idiot,” the low, gravelly voice of Bucky cut through the quiet, causing your entire body to flinch slightly.

Turning sharply to see him stepping out from behind a tree, you snapped, “What the fuck is wrong with you?” The smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, revealed by the dim light of the compound, illuminating his features.

“I’m doing my job, babysitting a dumb little princess,” Bucky replied, his tone dry and laced with sarcasm. For a moment, his eyes flicked down to the cigarette in your hand, and his expression changed, now holding disapproval in his features. “Shouldn’t smoke: Bad for your lungs.”

The tension simmered just below the surface as you narrowed your eyes at him. “Good job they repair themselves then, isn’t it?” you shot back, defiance edged in your voice.

“Are you always so quick to talk back?” he asked, eyebrow raised, clearly unimpressed but slightly amused.

“It comes with the surname,” you retorted, the glow in your eyes beginning to fade as you lifted your chin in defiance.

Bucky took a step closer, hardening his expression. “When Stark said I’d be babysitting, I figured a quiet, sweet kid, not… whatever you are,” he smirked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Ouch,” you replied with an exaggerated wince, feigning a hurt expression. “You really know how to make a girl feel special, and here I thought we were bonding.”

Tilting his head slightly, Bucky’s gaze unwavering. “I should have known Stark couldn’t produce anything but a little brat.”

“Hey,” you snapped, your temper beginning to flare as you took a step closer to him, almost closing the distance between you. “You haven’t earned the right to call me that yet.”

“Yet?” Bucky echoed, his smirk growing as a challenge flashed in his eyes.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the tensions locked you in a silent battle of wills. Neither one of you was backing down, your eyes daring each other to make the next move.

Bucky’s gaze was intense, his eyes searching deeply into yours as if trying to figure you out. Finally, he broke the silence, his voice low and filled with annoyance. “Just stay out of trouble, Princess. I’m not here to play games.”

“Please,” you let out a short laugh, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest. “If anyone’s trouble around here, it’s you… Winter Soldier.”

His smirk returned, this time more amused than before. “At least I know what I'm doing. You? You’re a walking hazard waiting to happen.”

You couldn’t let him see that his words stung more than you’d like to admit. Your heart pounded against your chest, and you couldn’t place the tightening in your throat. The space between you dwindled to almost nothing as the frustration bubbled up within you, threatening to spill.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me,” you hissed, your voice remaining steady despite the storm brewing inside you. You managed to keep your composure, refusing to let him see you rattled.

His face was mere inches from yours, his proximity caused you to feel his breath against your skin, and his voice was low, almost a growl. “I don’t have to know you to see what’s right in front of me,” he replied, his tone cold and unyielding.

His words lingered, sharp and cutting, leaving you torn. For another moment, you stood there, breathing beginning to pick up pace and eyes locked in a fierce stare. But, something shifted in Bucky’s gaze– a flicker of something softer. His jaw tightened as he broke the stare, glancing away toward the compound.

“Look,” he muttered, his voice gruff and lacking the earlier bite. “I’m not here to make your life hell. I just… I’ve seen what happens when people are careless. I don’t want that for you.”

Surprised, your defenses faltered for a brief second. Shaking your head, you quickly rebuilt them, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten through to you, even if for a second.

“I can take care of myself,” you scoffed. “I’ve been doing it for a long time.”

Carrying a weight, heavier than either of you would admit, the words hung between you. Creating a distance, Bucky turned, stepping back, a relieving yet strangely disorienting feeling rushed through your body.

“Just… be careful,” he said over his shoulder, his voice almost reluctant. Before waiting for a response, Bucky walked back off into the shadows, leaving you standing, the night feeling colder than ever before.

Your mind raced with everything that had just happened, and for a moment longer, you stood there, staring after him. And, the more you thought about the conversation, the more frustrated you became.

Then, with a sigh, you stomped out your cigarette, embers hissing as they met the ground. Your thoughts churned as you turned on your heel and made your way back to the compound.

Back inside the compound, the halls remained quiet as you wandered back to your room, your mind replaying the confrontation with Bucky. Wrapped up in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the large figure leaning against the wall until you almost walked into him.

“Woah there, Firecracker,” the playful voice of Johnny snapped you out of your daze. Stopping short, you looked up to see his grin, the same one that had begun etching itself into your memory.

“J-Johnny,” you shuttered, more of a surprise than anything else.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he quipped, his eyes sparking with mischief before sending you a wink. “What’s got you so deep in thought? Looked like you were about to walk right through me.”

For a moment, you hesitated, but then you shook your head, deciding to not burden him with the Bucky situation. “Nothing I can’t handle,” you replied, forcing a smirk across your lips, matching his energy.

Clearly unconvinced, Johnny raised an eyebrow but did not press further. Instead, pushed his body off the wall and took a step closer, his gaze scanned your face as if he was trying to read what you weren’t saying.

“Well… if you’re ever looking for a distraction,” he began, his tone dropping to something slightly more serious. “I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

You couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips, grow. There was something about Johnny that made it hard to stay angry but also, made you want to release all that fury and chaos swirling within you, out on him.

“Is that right?” you teased, your eyes meeting his, an unspoken understanding charging the air between you.

“Absolutely,” Johnny replied in a low voice, his once playful manner giving way to something more intense. “So, what do you say, Firecracker? Wanna blow off some steam?”

You felt your heart skip a beat, but the double meaning in his words did not get lost on you. And, without fully thinking it through, you grabbed Johnny by the front of his suit, pulling him closer.

“Come on, Flame Boy,” you murmured, your voice low and barely a whisper. “I’ve got just the place.”

Without waiting for his response, you led him through the halls toward your room. His surprise quickly morphed into anticipation as he followed. Then, when you reached your door, you pushed it open and pulled the man inside with you.

Right then, you didn’t want to think. Not about Bucky, the compound, nor the weight of your own existence. Just the fire, and the heat.

---

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