johnny storm and stark’s son (you) race for the winning spot in the monaco grand prix, things get heated and it ends with a broken nose, a kiss, and an end to a years long rivalry.
𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐙, 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐑, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 the strong scent of sea. The Monaco Grand Prix was undoubtedly a special one. The Mediterranean weather was perfect, the atmosphere boomed with excitement, and more importantly, your parents stood in the audience.
There, in a special section above, stood Tony Stark and Pepper Potts excitedly waving and blowing kisses at you.
“Need your mommy’s good luck kiss, Stark?”
“Nah, but I’d love one from your sister, Storm.”
The blonde narrowed his eyes as he walked closer in full suit. The racers on the track intermingled as they send their last text before the race,
“You know, I had a dream about this last night, wanna know how it ended?”
“You having wet dreams about me, Storm? I appreciate it, but I don’t sleep with people on the job,” you smirked.
“I- what?” Johnny blushed. “No, it ended with me winning, and poor you looking up at me,” he teased.
“Well, hate to break it to you, but this is reality. So, let me tell you how this is really gonna end,” you leaned against the vibrant red car. “It’s gonna be you, looking at the back of this car, when I win.”
“Hm, and if you don’t win?”
“You’re just as cocky as your dad. Anyone ever tell you that?”
“It’s just genetics,” you replied.
Johnny laughed. “Didn’t your dad crash when he tried to race?” He asked before patting your shoulder. “Let’s hope your driving skills aren’t genetics either.”
“Think you can keep up, Storm?”
The other chuckled as he walked back.
“I know I can, but can you?”
The heat inside the car burns your skin. The cheers and the soaring cars fill your ears as you and Johnny go neck and neck for first. The other racers are light-years behind.
Time is relative, and for you it slows down. Every second lasts a minute, and every minute feels like an eternity.
A blur of blue came into your right peripheral vision.
“He’s on newer tires than you, you wanna box?” A voice rang in your ear.
You glimpsed at your cracked side mirror as Johnny fell slowly behind.
“What the fuck is he doing?” You questioned.
Just then, the blue car pushed to you, forcing you to go inside and only barely stopping from crashing into you. Continuously, Johnny’s car would close onto your tires before you narrowly escaped collision.
“Holy shit! This guy is fucking crazy!” You yelled.
“There’s left turn up ahead, use it,” your team told you.
God, this fucking guy is so annoying. You can just imagine his stupid smirk right now.
You huffed inside your helmet as you zoomed past the straight and onto the turn. However, instead of keeping to the inside for the distance, you pushed outwards—by default pushing Johnny Storm onto the wall.
Clashes banged in the circuit as the blue car scraped on the narrow wall. Dangerous play, outright practically illegal. Yet, your push only lasted for seconds before relieving the pressure off. Just enough for plausible deniability.
Johnny faltered when you pulled off. His car slowed and inevitably, only saw the back of your’s.
You let out a loud cackle. “Haha! Let’s go!”
“Nice play, Stark. Take it home.”
Your team rushed towards your car as you stopped. Quickly jumping out, you relieved your head from your helmet and took off your mask. Hands came to pet your hair, but your eyes only sat on one man.
“The fuck was that!” Johnny Storm yelled as he jumped out of his car. He rushed towards you, and like a magnetic pull, you rushed to him. "That play was bullshit!"
“What play? The one that you tried to take both of us out with?” You yelled back.
Johnny sat a finger right on your chest. “Don't fucking act stupid with me, Stark. You tried to murder me with that turn!”
Your eyes narrowed as you stared into Johnny. “I don’t know what you're talking about.”
“Yeah?” He chuckled. “You can’t win with skill, so you try to send me to the hospital, huh? Take me out?”
Your neck cranked down as Johnny’s turned up. Music blasted over the speakers, but it fell silent on your ears. Crew in both blue and red attempted to pull both of you, but their existence disappeared as you gazed at Johnny.
Huh, when did Johnny take off his helmet? His hair swooped in all directions and eyes widened like a mad dog. His breath heaved by the second and your heartbeat raised in decibels. You could feel nothing, sense nothing—-nothing but Johnny. You stood taller than him (which gave you satisfaction that Johnny hated it), but ironically, Johnny was the one consuming you. His presence covered you like a blanket. His eyes shined as vibrantly blue as his car and you could notice the redness on his cheeks.
Only Johnny Storm could bring out the worst in you. Only he could force you into illegal plays. Only he could incite childish petty behavior from you. Only him.
“How did it feel?” you breathed out. Johnny’s eyebrow raised in confusion. “How did it feel seeing the back of my car, when I won?”
“You bitch,” Johnny whispered before bringing a fist back and…
Your nose shot in pain, blood quickly fell down your face. Your team decided to appear once again and pushed in between the two of you. The cheers crashed into your ears like a tsunami. The sun was too bright—-your suit stuck to you like glue. You could hear a faint female “Johnny!”
Your head swiveled and swerved, as if it were a car taking a fast turn. Hands guided you back into a room, and you covered your nose in pain. Numerous yelling from others gifted you a migraine. You attempted to take control of your breathing, but quickly you felt yourself crash from adrenaline.
The couch laid comfortably beneath your body. Your temporary makeshift home blasted AC to freeze the room. Your body laid pathetically on the soft cushions and you tilted your head back onto the wall.
“You know, you’re not supposed to do that. Especially after a broken nose, take it from me,” a voice broke you from your trance.
“How many people have you angered, again?” You laughed.
Tony sighed as he took a seat next to you. “I stopped counting after the first 20,” he smirked.
You chuckled at your father’s answer and brought a hand to the bandages that covered your nose.
“You know your mom sent me here, right?”
Tony snorted. “Mad is an understatement.”
You groaned and rubbed your hands on your face. “Fuck…”
“And honestly kid, I gotta agree with her. I may…” Tony trailed off as he tapped his chin in thought, “dislike… the Fantastic Four. But what you did there on the track wasn't acceptable. You worried me there.”
You stared blankly at your fathers words.
“Well… maybe not entirely worried. Still unacceptable."
“Your mother was very worried.”
Tilting your head, you gave your father an unimpressed look.
“Okay, yeah, maybe I did get a little satisfaction from you humbling that kid…” Tony smirked. “Don’t tell your mom I said that.”
“He was on my ass. I had to do something,” you explained yourself.
“Yeah, I know. That’s not what I’m disappointed about.”
“You got punched… by Johnny Storm… on live television, seriously kid. After all those self defense classes I signed you up for?”
“I know, I know,” you sighed. “I just… I don’t know.”
“Listen, I know you two have this little… thing… going on,” Tony started. “I know you get a certain way about him, but-”
“Certain way?” You interrupted.
“Yeah, you know, like…” your father went silent, choosing his next words carefully. “Look, it’s very obvious you have some emotions about him.”
“What!” You yelped—wincing at your high voice. You stood up in an act of defense. “I don’t- No- You have it wrong- Him and I aren’t-”
“Kid, everyone can see it. You and him… you’re like your mom and I at first. She used to hate my guts, and now I rip her guts op-“
“Oh my god!” You groan. “I don’t wanna hear that! Him and I are nothing like you and mom! I don’t like him!”
“Mhm…” your dad hummed, seemingly unimpressed.
“Seriously! You gotta believe me!”
“I do believe you…” he smirked.
“I- Him- No! I don’t wanna kiss him, date him, let alone marry him!” You pace back and forth in the room. “He’s- He’s- He’s so insufferable! Annoying! Cocky! He just punched me!”
“I gave your mom strawberries once.”
“Isn’t she allergic to strawberries?”
“Yeah,” Tony laughed. “But, that isn’t my point. My point is this... childish rivalry-”
Your dad snorted as he tilted his head back. “Sure,” he said and turned to face you again, “I’m just trying to say, your mom already worries a lot for you. This thing,” he waved his hand around. “She still berates me about letting you do this. Don't give her any more of a reason to have a heart attack. Only one of us can have heart problems,” he only half joked.
You laughed weakly as you resumed your spot on the couch.
“Oh, and she said to apologize to Storm,” Tony added as if an afterthought.
“What!” you yelled. “He’s the one who punched me!”
“Hey, whatever your mom says, goes,” Tony brought his hands up in surrender.
“I’m not apologizing until he does,” you settle as you cross your arms.
“That’s your call,” he mumbled. Your dad cleared his throat as he stood up. “Alright,” he said as he laid a hand on your shoulder. “Good job, you did well.”
Tony turned to leave the room, but before he left, he turned around. “Hey kid?”
“Try not to get punched on live television again? Honestly, that was kinda embarrassing,” he said as he left through the door.
“Thanks dad,” you mumbled sarcastically. You huffed as you laid back on the cushions. A moment of silence passed until you groaned and rubbed your face.
“He’s never gonna let me live that down.”
“Mister Stark, in yesterday’s race, you and Johnny Storm were going head to head, and you had pinned him to the wall—an illegal play. What was going on at that time?”
The press room stabbed with silence- no, anticipation. The punch yesterday had unfortunately shined more attention onto your dangerous move on the circuit. Many speculated it was the reason for the interaction after—which, yeah, fair, it kinda- definitely was the reason.
A member of your team gave you a nod from the corner of your eye. You took a deep breath and tightened your lips. You went over this exact question last night, going over every plausible response. You steadied your breath as you leaned into the mic.
“What I did,” you started. “I… I was high on emotions and wasn’t thinking straight. I resorted to a dangerous move and I apologize to everyone that saw it.”
“And to Johnny Storm?” The reporter asked.
You furrowed your eyebrows and forced a smile.
“That’s between him and I,” you said with one of the worst attempts at an innocent voice. The reporter wrote notes on her pad as she nodded.
The microphone shifted to another reporter. The room fell into silence as the new reporter cleared his throat.
“So… regarding what happened after the race. Johnny Storm, member of the Fantastic Four, got into a uh… physical… debacle with you.”
“Can you, er, take us through that moment? What was the reason for it?”
You chuckled and pondered over how to answer.
“You’d have to ask Storm that. I have no idea what goes on in his head,” you smiled sweetly at the reporter. Perfect. Just enough innocence mixed with spite.
The reporter flushed as he wrote on his pad. “Right, of course, yes.”
The cold whirling of the AC froze your room. Your shirt scrunched somewhere on the floor as you laid on your bed with only sweatpants and boxers. The TV lit the room with yesterday’s race, it was always routine to watch your performance the next day.
You sighed as you heard a light knock on your door. Begrudgingly, you stood up—the cold floor of the Stark home burned your feet with every step.
You swung the door open. “I swear if thats you Peter-“
“Uh,” Johnny fucking Storm stood in front of your bedroom.
“I- What are you doing here?” You asked.
Johnny stared at you, his eyes trailing down to your abdomen.
“Hello?” You asked again.
“I, uhm…” Johnny averted his gaze.
You smirked at his fidgeting and bouncing leg.
“Your sister sent you here, huh?”
“No!” He squeaked. “Ahem,” Johnny cleared his throat, “I mean no.”
You chuckled under your breath and leaned against the door frame. “Right, right… then why are you here?”
“I know you’re here to apologize,” you smirked.
Johnny took a deep breath as he stared right into your eyes.
“Oh my god, your ego cannot be that fragile.”
“Shut up!” He yelled. “You haven’t apologized either for killing me. I saw what you said today, “'that’s between him and I?'”
You laughed and brought your hands in surrender.
“I was waiting for you to apologize to me first,” you said with an expectant smile.
The clock in your room ticked with every second as Johnny struggled to find words.
“I… fuck… look,” he took a deep breath. “I’msorryforpunchingyouIshouldn’thavedonethat!”
You blinked, you’d like to consider your brain pretty quick due to your job, but Johnny’s word had you standing for a minute to process.
Once you finally decoded his words, you barked into laughter. Johnny’s ears red with embarrassment. God, this was too funny.
“This is great,” you wheezed. “Come back again, same time tomorrow? I’d love to do this again.”
“Alright,” you laughed. “Well, thanks for stopping by,” you said as you turned to close the door. However, a hand held the door back.
“Oh no, Stark. You still owe me that apology for almost killing me,” Johnny demanded.
“What do you mean?” You asked sweetly with a smile.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. That illegal play!”
“Technically,” you said as you opened the door again. “They said it wasn’t illegal,” you smiled.
“Bullshit! How much did you pay them?” Johnny crossed his arms.
“Nada, I’m just that good. All skills baby,” you winked.
Johnny huffed in annoyance. “I still want that apology.”
“Look, I didn’t try to kill you. You saw the press conference, I wasn’t thinking straight,” you sighed.
“Doesn’t matter, you still did it anyway.”
You narrowed your eyes. “It was an accident.”
“Blah blah blah, excuses, excuses, excuses,” Johnny rolled his eyes.
“You’re insufferable, did anyone ever tell you that?”
“Nah,” Johnny smirked, he waved his hands. “Usually I’m described as hot, sexy, charming, you know, the guy that all the ladies want.”
“Yeah? Add annoying blonde to it too,” you rolled your eyes.
“You’re just jealous,” he hummed.
“Why would I be jealous?”
“Because I’m just better than you,” Johnny’s signature smirk plastered on his face.
“God, you are so fucking annoying,” you mumbled.
“Fuck you,” the blonde stepped closer. “You’re high ego won’t even let you say two simple words,” Johnny touched your naked chest with a pointed finger.
“I don’t have a fucking ego,” you breathed out. Johnny’s face crept closer, both your breaths bounced off the other.
The sound of heavy breathing filled your ears. You noticed the twinkle of excitement in Johnny’s eyes. His face lit up perfectly in the mellow lighting of your room.
The world stopped, memories from yesterday flashed in your mind. The closeness, the determination in his eyes, his finger putting pressure on the exact spot from yesterday. Only this time, you two were alone.
Johnny’s eyes flickered down to your lips—only for a quick second. And the world exploded.
You pulled the other by the arm into your room and shut the door. Slamming Johnny on the wall, you leaned in to, finally, close the gap between you two.
Teeth clattered with teeth, your hands pinned him by his waist while his hands came to your hair and pulled harshly. You let a groan slip past as the bastard bit hard on your lip.
Despite the air conditioning, sweat started to coat your skin. Your body buzzed with adrenaline, and it was as if you and Johnny were on the track again—going head to head for first, alive and ruthless.
You pulled away from his lips and immediately dived to his neck. Johnny cranked his head to give you more access and, god, is this what you were missing out on?
You licked and sucked on his skin, Johnny’s panting suffocated your ears. You smirked as you bit down on a small part behind his ear.
“Fucking hell, Stark…” Johnny breathed out.
You let out a small chuckle before planting a chaste kiss on the section before dropping to his adams apple.
“Shit- who taught you how- fuck,” Johnny groaned as you slipped a leg in between him and grinded your knee against his groin.
You chuckled on his neck and pulled up, deciding to drink in the sight of the blonde.
Johnny leaned back on the wall, panting for air. His neck littered with purple fresh bruises and lips red and swollen. His eyes half closed as he leaned his head on the wall. His adam’s apple moved as he swallowed.
Your eyes trailed down to his groin, where a tent stood front and center. Johnny noticed your smirk and he scoffed.
“Fuck you,” he whispered in between breaths.
Johnny huffed as he pushed himself off the wall and pushed you to sit on the bed.
“Asshole,” he said before diving in to steal another kiss.
You bring a hand to his waist to pull him in and straddle you, but instead Johnny slaps your hand away.
His smirk only grows before he slowly falls to his knees in between your legs, never breaking eye contact.
“Think you can keep up, Stark?”
You laugh and settle a hand on his hair.
“I know I can, but can you?”
obsessing over f1 and johnny rn so i js had to LMAO
im willing to turn this into a series if yall like