You decide to see if your boyfriend Johnny is down to put those flames of his to good use.
((team I had this idea a few weeks ago after making a video about it - so here's the product of no sleep & the fact that I'm deeply amused by the entire idea. also i've been toying with writing Johnny because he delights me so !! hope everyone enjoys !!))
The mid-1960s in New York City was a time of sleek chrome, martini lunches, mid-century modern furniture, and the steady hum of technological optimism.
And for you, specifically, it was the time of Johnny Storm.
You’d been dating the Human Torch for three months. It was the honeymoon phase in its purest form. The two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other, and it was intoxicating. The rest of the world blurred into the background, and where the very air around him felt electrically charged. He didn’t just set himself on fire, he set your soul on fire as well.
Tonight, you were “sleeping over” at the Baxter Building. The sun had long since dipped below the Manhattan skyline, leaving the penthouse apartment bathed in the soft glow of the city lights.
Johnny was lying on the rug in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking unfairly handsome in a pair of dark sweatpants, his chest bare. You were curled up next to him, tracing the lines of his stomach with a lazy finger.
Suddenly, your mind began racing with a sudden, devious idea.
"Johnny?" You murmured, sitting up and letting the blanket you’d snagged from his bed pool at your waist.
"Hmm?" He turned his head to look at you, a lazy, confident grin spreading across his face as his blue eyes raked over your lingerie-clad form. Johnny was many things. An appreciator of black lace was apparently one of them. "Ready for round three? Or are you just admiring the view?"
"I want to try something.” Your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that you hoped came across as a little bit of shyness.
Johnny’s eyebrows shot up, and he propped himself up on his elbows, interest instantly piqued.
"Oh yeah?" His eyes darted over you again. "What do you have in mind?”
“Ooh, eager, are we?” You laughed.
“I’m just telling you right now, I am open to just about anything, sweetheart.”
“Anything?”
“What’re you thinkin’?” He grinned. “Handcuffs? Whipped cream? Hot wax? If you want to get experimental then I’m pretty sure I’m the only guy in the world who can guarantee you won’t actually get burned. I’m something of a fire safety expert."
Johnny wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and you had to stifle another laugh. He looked so eager. So ready for something scandalous.
Noted.
"Trust me, baby." You clamored to your feet. "You're going to love this. Wait here."
"Where are you going?" He called out as you slipped out of his room. "Don't keep me in suspense! And don’t let Ben see you like that!"
Johnny’s somewhat jealous warnings about the view of you in lingerie being “off limits” to everyone else except him faded into the background as you turned a corner and disappeared into the sleek, ultra-modern kitchen.
After rummaging through the cupboards that were kept stocked with surprisingly normal snacks for a family of superheroes, you found what you were looking for. Grabbing two forks, you traipsed back to Johnny’s room, arms full behind your back.
Johnny was still waiting, looking expectant. “Watcha got there, baby?”
"I hate camping." You announced.
“Okay…” Johnny drew the word out, still trying to find the angle.
"I hate sleeping on the ground. Bugs. Communal bathrooms."
“Alright, no camping. Got it. But what -
You dropped your supplies onto the coffee table with a dramatic flourish.
"Are we having a midnight snack? I can get behind that. But what’s that got to do with -”
"It's not just a snack, Johnny." You replied, climbing back onto the rug and straddling his legs with a wicked grin on your pretty face.
Deliberately, you picked up a marshmallow and speared it onto one of the forks you’d swiped from the kitchen.
"I want a s'more. But there's no campfire."
You leaned close, your face barely two inches from his, your voice dropping to a sultry purr.
"But I know a guy who can turn himself into a roaring inferno on command."
Johnny blinked. Once. Twice. Then, a slow, incredulous laugh started to build in his chest. "You're kidding me."
"Dead serious." You waved the marshmallow dramatically. "So Flame On, hot stuff."
"You want to use me as a human rotisserie?" His tone wavered somewhere between disbelief and delight.
"Technically a human campfire.” You argued. “And it's the ultimate exercise of multitasking. I get my sugar fix, and I get to stare at your abs. Win-win."
“Oh, so you want to play Girl Scout over my abs?”
“Yes.”
“What’s in it for me?”
You sat back, sticking out your lower lip in a pout. “Everything is always about you, Mr. Storm.”
Johnny shook his head, but he was grinning so hard it looked like it hurt. His hands found your waist, his thumb drawing circles on your stomach through the lace of your slip. "You are actually insane. You know that?”
“Isn’t that part of my appeal?”
“Oh, definitely, babydoll.”
"So are you going to do it, or are you chicken?" You teased, poking his firm pec with the non-marshmallow end of the fork.
"Chicken? Baby, I’m the Human Torch." He shifted, settling back against the plush rug and flexing his shoulders. "Do your worst. But if you set off the fire alarm I’m telling Reed you violated safety protocol number one of Baxter Tower and he will not be happy."
“Deal. But you have to tell him why it went off.”
You scooted off his lap slightly as Johnny’s torso began to burn like embers from an actual campfire. Flames slowly flickered to life across his skin, dancing over his shoulders and chest in a mesmerizing display of orange and yellow fire. The heat radiating from him was intense, bathing you in a wave of summer warmth in the middle of the air-conditioned apartment.
"There," he said, the crackle of the flames making a romantic background noise. "Bonfire served, my lady. But don’t drip anything on the carpet or Sue’ll kill me.”
"Stop complaining.”
“Does this turn you on?” Johnny’s expression was devious.
You just grinned, holding the marshmallow out over the center of his chest.
It was, as you suspected, perfect. The flames were even and hot, roasting the marshmallow to a perfect golden brown in seconds. You rotated it, watching the sugar skin crisp up and feeling almost giddy with the absurdity of it all.
Meanwhile, Johnny watched you, his eyes glowing with an inner light, literally and figuratively. He looked like a god of fire. A god who was willing to lie there letting his girlfriend use his superpowers for junk food.
"Okay, I think they’re done." You said, pulling the marshmallow back. It was bubbling.
Quickly, you sandwiched it between two graham crackers and a square of chocolate, pressing them together until the marshmallow oozed out the sides (but not enough to drip on the carpet). You took a bite, the flavor exploding in your mouth. It tasted like sugar, chocolate, and the thrill of doing something incredibly stupid with the most powerful man in the city.
"Oh my god." You moaned dramatically, rolling your eyes back.
It was Johnny’s turn to pout. “Guess I need to step up my game if you’re capable of making those sounds that I’ve never heard before.”
"Sorry - but that is the best s'more I have ever had."
Johnny let the flames die down, his skin cooling rapidly until only faint wisps of steam rose from his shoulders. He reached up, taking the second s’more that you offered him.
"Yeah, yeah," he said, rolling his own eyes but still chewing happily. "It’s good. But admit it, the best part was the view."
"The view wasn't too bad." You conceded, popping the rest of the treat into your mouth. You leaned down, pressing a sticky, chocolate-flavored kiss to his lips. "Thank you for your service, sir."
"I live to please," he muttered against your mouth, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back down on top of him. Johnny pulled back slightly with a mock-stern expression, though the crinkle at the corner of his eyes gave him away. "But seriously. If you tell anyone about this, I will deny it. I will look you in the face and call you a liar."
“Admit you had fun and that I’m full of amazing ideas, and your secret will be safe with me, hot stuff.”
“Fine - you’re beautiful and smart. Happy?”
“Very.”
"Good." Johnny grinned, suddenly flipping you over onto your back and hovering over you, his eyes now dark with a different kind of heat. "Now that we've had dessert... I believe we were discussing round three?"
Fantastic 4 x F1: Driver Johnny Storm has been spotted trackside for the first time since returning from the Negative Zone. The team kindly asks everyone to give the star space as he readjusts.
this is minor but I couldn’t stop thinking about it, why would they use such a low rez background for this cover? it was visibly noticeable on the shelf at the comic shop
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