Love marvel rivals, hogwarts legacy, baldurs gate 3! in love with halsin. life cleric. Je parle français. Huge mizzie/Phan! Eponine is literally me. Chemistry and French major.
ׂ╰➤ prompt two of my kinktober schedule. 2k words.
ׂ╰➤ INCLUDES: yearning Johnny, weird and undefined relationship, themes of reader being kind of insecure, a bit of dubcon at the end, oral (fem!receiving), smallest hint of pussy pronouns (couldn't help myself sorry </3)
Johnny Storm wasn’t your boyfriend.
Not for lack of trying - far from it, actually - rather, a lack of acceptance. Human Torch, brother, uncle, flame-drenched king of the sky. He wore all these titles with ease, donning them smoother than he donned the skin covering his ivory bones.
Never yours, though. That was the only one he couldn’t seem to acquire.
You and him had a thing going. Something endlessly devoted to shapeshifting and never being tangible, never being definable. One day he’d be on a mission, and you were simply a ghost he carried, no different than the weight of his suit. You’d be fucking the next, he’d sleep in your bed, he’d kiss you like it meant something. Like you meant something. Like you were consumption embodied, like your presence was pure gluttony.
In those little molten moments after the peak of eruption, he’d ask if you were done dancing yet. If the two of you could be more than a bipolar force, a warm bed after a cold mission. You wouldn’t refuse, but you’d yet to accept it, either. It was a familiar routine, one laced with the needy rush of touching something that simultaneously was and wasn’t yours.
He didn’t want it that way. He wanted to plant his hands on something that was proudly his. Someone who would be waiting for him, someone he could wait for. He wanted love.
And, truthfully, you wanted it, too.
He’d had your heart for years, beating small and skittish in his heated palms. You just couldn’t acknowledge it. You were terrified to acknowledge it. Johnny was an enigma. He was one of the four shiny beacons of hope that your scarred world had to offer, someone that nearly everyone looked up to. He was the dream man of about half the women in the nation. How were you someone that could handle that? Being his companion would mean being known, being seen.
That was petrifying. That was why you couldn’t be the woman waiting for him.
A couple of boozy drinks and the too crisp air of early Autumn brought these grievances to the surface, the admission of fear tumbling out of your lips like a gymnast failing to stick the landing. The fear of being judged, the fear of being hated, the fear of being his. You loathed how weak it made you feel, not being able to take the strain of it. But you just couldn’t.
He listened, and nodded, and stared at you so heartbreakingly soft that it nearly cut the words straight off your tongue. You told him the pure depth of your shared interest. How you were already together, as far as you were concerned. You didn’t look at others, you didn’t bring others back, you didn’t let others touch you like he did. You watched him save the world; and then, you watched him have a meal and a quiet night in with you when it was all over.
He told you he didn’t care about the opinions of the globe he was constantly saving. That he did it because it needed doing, because he was capable. He cared about you and him. He cared about what happened here and now. Not about the desires of the people who depended on him, the people who wanted to be loved by him. You were loved by him. No question, no doubt. That was what mattered. That was the only thing that mattered.
“You’re more important than them.”
His eyes burned sickeningly blue, proudly holding every ounce of affection and loyalty you could hope for within the mighty circles.
“For now, maybe.” You fidgeted from inside the grip of intensity, feeling his gaze like a sniper taking aim. “But you want to be liked, Johnny. I see it in the way you talk to people. And that’s not bad. ‘s just not realistic if I’m the one you’re being seen with.”
He shook his head. “You think they’ll turn against me just because I’ve got…” He struggled with the words. A girlfriend felt entirely too trivial to be accurate. You were deeper than that. You were what his arms searched for on the nights he was alone in bed, the beat his heart synced to whenever you were near. He didn’t know what you were, but it wasn’t something juvenile. It wasn’t something pliable. “You know - cause I’ve got someone?”
“I just…I don’t know. I don’t think it’ll make sense to people.” Your intention truly wasn't to host your own pity party. You didn’t even necessarily see it as a bad thing, just something inevitable. Something true. “You’re The Human Torch, you know? Who am I to be next to that?”
He stared at you for a long, heavy moment that stretched far too wide to remain comfortable.
You thought he would say something, instead he stood up. He beckoned you to mimic his actions, waving his fingers and uttering a quiet ‘come on.’ His movement through your space was absentminded, knowing the place as well as he knew his own. He pulled you to the homely four walls of your bedroom, getting you close enough to him that you could feel the abnormal abundance of heat he radiated.
Then, he kissed you like the world was ending. Like the thoughts you’d voiced were crushing enough to end everything and everyone.
Your feet moved back as his crept forward, eventually ending with your back laying on the padded pristineness of the bed you often shared with him, the man in question taking his designated place on top of you. You liked it when he didn’t have to go, when he’d stay so long that the scent of his cologne stained the sheets.
It was such a stupid yet incredibly significant thing. You couldn’t suppress the tiny quirk of your lips at the notion, involuntarily breaking the seal of your connected mouths. He couldn’t help but follow suit, feeling your happiness like it belonged to him.
“What’s the smile for, sweetheart?”
“Just smells like you in here. It’s nice.”
He hummed, trailing dedicated pecks down the expanse of your neck. “Could be like that all the time if you’d stop running from me.”
You slid your hands beneath his shirt, groping the sturdy plane of his stomach. You felt the muscles contract a bit, stiffening at the gentleness.
“I don’t mean to.”
“Sure you don’t.”
Johnny was a teaser. Even to his family, that looming need to satirize ran deep and inherent. It was something about being close to him, unavoidable and completely signature. Something that only he held.
Tonight felt different, somehow electric. His contextual frustration hummed with a newfound sentience. You swore if you listened hard enough, you could hear it shouting profanities, cursing the eyes of arrogant interlopers. Cursing those who kept you wobbling in the confines of privacy, those who were the reason he couldn’t take you out properly. It was his driving force currently. He was vibrating with it.
He seemed displeased that he couldn’t get down further than your collarbones, bringing his hands up to pull off the fabric hindering his path. The motion bared your torso to the room, the feeling still making you inhale stiffly, even after years of the same illegitimate sanctity.
“Hate that you still tense up.” You felt the individual impact of each kiss he laid on your chest, moving down the softness of your stomach. “‘s just me.”
He said it like the knowledge was supposed to heal something, like the insecure wounds of your mortal skin could be purified by the superhuman love that pooled in every one of his touches. Like he could melt all that kept you frozen, like that was the true meaning of his powers.
Your pants came next, being lovingly dragged down the pudge of your thighs by his worldly hands, scuffed up and calloused from endless war. Your underwear went along with them, the man before you not having shed an inch of his own coverings. Just you, indecent and exposed and somehow completely his without ever claiming the spot as your own.
He stills with his face against your stomach, the sight of you still nearly stopping his heart even after knowing you so thoroughly for so long.
“Prettiest girl in the whole fuckin’ universe.”
His words made your ribcage ache, your hands shaky. He’d spoken like it was an irrefutable fact, as true as anything could be. He’d seen the universe. He’d coasted on the hazy atmosphere of the planet you lived on, marked the stars with his footsteps. He was the only one who could say something like that. He was the only one with the experience to prove it, and that made it so dizzying to hear.
The first glide of his fingertips through the abundant arousal spilling out of you is enough to make your jaw clench, a tight noise launching it’s way out of your dry throat. His thumb nudges your clit, just enough to give your nerves a jolt without lulling you into the build of full stimulation. His name scrapes your lips as it’s expelled, the harrowing burden of going so long without him gripping like a vice to the word.
“Miss this more than anything when I’m on missions. Hear you in my fuckin’ dreams most nights.”
The slide of his finger into you is met with essentially no resistance. It makes you keen, your back arching up and your eyes shutting. His thumb fully commits to circling your clit, resulting in the most painfully pleasant sensation you could fathom. It shouldn’t have been as disarming as it was, shouldn’t have subdued you as easily as it did. It wasn’t what he was doing, it was just him. Just what his attention did for you.
“Theeere she is.”
“Johnny-”
“Can feel you’re close, baby. Need to feel it. Please.”
The Human Torch was a breathing symbol of power, of light aloofness, of unwavering protection. But, in these moments, he was just Johnny. Begging, needy, and ravenous after having to abstain. He wasn’t usually a desperate man, but that steel-strong ego of his deteriorated rapidly when he took his place between your legs. In the times when he was nothing but the person who lived to please you.
The straight locks of his blonde hair curled around the base of your fingers as you gripped it. It was that contact that shoved you over the edge, infiltrating the empty corners of your brain and filling it with nothing but him. Nothing but the sliver of infinity the two of you existed in when you were together. You tasted the curses on your tongue as they fell, barely being able to keep air in your lungs from how much you felt it.
You expected him to wean you off the high, to gradually bring you back to the ground, but he wasn’t stopping. Your rushed questioning left your body in barely audible breaths, asking him what was happening, what he was doing.
“I think you’ve got another in you, yeah?”
The searing warmth of his mouth replaced his thumb’s position on your clit, eliciting a borderline pained noise from your parted lips. The immediate introduction of an entirely new kind of pleasure on parts that were already too sensitive was too much, was too fast. You hadn’t been given time to recover, hadn’t had time to prepare for it. It was simultaneously a bucket of ice water dumped right on your spine and the hottest flame eating you alive.
Your next orgasm was the sweetest and most torturous feeling. You held the sheets like they could save you from drowning in it.
And, still, he just continued. He disregards the climbing and crashing all in favor of pushing you to the absolute brink. You’re seeing that sentient frustration again, that bittersweet plotting he does when he knows his way won’t be followed.
“Wait - please -”
“Oh, but she’s begging me for it, sweetheart.” He pushes another finger into you, the second one joining his pace effortlessly. As if emphasizing his point, he grazes that padded spot inside you, making your hips buck involuntarily. “You feel it?”
You nod your head a little, slurring out something like an ‘mhm’ in mindless agreement.
“How about,” He starts, planting open and smeared kisses against your thighs, wetting the malleable flesh with a mix of his saliva and the messy evidence of what he’d made of you. “I make you cum once for every time you stopped us from happening, hm?”
The sharpness of constant stimulation ripped through you like a current, diving off a cliff and pulling you right over with it. You came for the third time in minutes, stomach tight and will crumbling by the second. A single, glaring truth became evident as he kept at his attempts to see you unravel.
Warnings: this one's a bit of an angst rollercoaster sry, johnny gets brought down to his lowest, technically character death, cursing, use of 'sir' (just once), smut, oral (f receiving)
A/N: holy shit you guys thank you so much for all the love on this series and thank you for your patience! the plot of this part is based loosely on the comic Strange Tales 105 (I included a link to the breakdown of that comic, which includes pictures of the strips!). this was the most difficult fanfic I've ever written so I really hope you guys like it<3 love you guys!!
Bentley Wittman.
Just another one of the many adversaries the Fantastic Four had gone up against.
He wasn’t anything special, not really. He was intelligent, sure, but not remarkably more so than any other villain they’d fought. Tech-savvy? Unfortunately yes. But even still, nothing the Four couldn’t handle. Truthfully, the only thing notable about him was his weird obsession with getting one over on Johnny. And Johnny knew this, knew it was technically nothing he hadn’t already encountered and beaten before. Yet he still could not quiet the racing of his heart, nor the dread that had long settled low in his stomach since he came home to your absence.
This was different.
Since the moment they met, Wittman seemed determined to make Johnny’s life hell for reasons unknown. They’d battled multiple times now, and Johnny always came out on top. He didn’t understand why Wittman even bothered, given his terrible track record, but Wittman was relentless, apparently. He had escaped prison multiple times before, but this last time had seemed to stick for a while there. It had been years since Johnny had even thought of Wittman.
But he was back, and this was different.
Before, Johnny never had to worry about anybody else when dealing with Wittman. He knew he was the intended target and always dealt with the adversary himself. Even if Sue, Reed or Ben had intervened, he still didn’t have to worry, not really. He knew the others could hold their own.
But you. You were different. You were innocent, caught in the crosshairs just as your relationship had gone public, and Johnny was feeling like a fool.
A terrified, lovesick, naive fool.
Had he really thought he could just exist peacefully and safely in the world with his soulmate, with everyone knowing exactly who she was to him? He really, truly thought he could find happiness and keep it safe from harm, knowing who he was, what his job was?
Fool.
His leg bounced restlessly while he sat back on the couch, hands folded together tightly in his lap as he fought the urge to punch Reed Richards right in his stupid, superhero face.
“If we just slow down for a second we can come up with a plan—“
“Reed, I swear to god I am trying to be patient, but if you don’t let me go save my girl right now I’m going to hit you.” Johnny sat up a little and was glaring daggers at his brother in law, his hands now clenched into fists as they rested against his thighs.
Reed sighed, pinching the space between his brow as he searched for the right words. Sue placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder, a silent plea to please hush for a sec.
“Look, the kid has already dealt with this guy plenty of times,” Ben intervened gently. “How about we try following his lead?”
Johnny stood up and clapped his hands together, gesturing to his friend. “See? He gets it.”
Reed opened his mouth. “But I—“
Johnny walked up to Reed and put his hands on his shoulders, stopping him with the intense look in his eyes alone. “Reed. What Wittman wants is me. I know that, and you know that. So that’s what I’m gonna give him. I’m not letting some asshole who calls himself the Wizard lay a finger on my girl. Now you can come with me if you want, or you can stay here and keep trying to come up with a ‘plan’. Either way? I’m out of here.”
Johnny clapped his brother in law on the back before turning around and taking off into a sprint, leaping off the balcony outside. His body erupted in flames as he soared through the air, leaving a faint trail of smoke behind him.
Reed sighed, rubbing an exhausted hand down his face.
Sue gave him a sympathetic look. “I’ll get the car.”
***
The first thing you realized when you gained consciousness was that your head hurt. It was the kind of headache that felt like someone was pounding the back of your head with a jackhammer, the kind that had you squinting your eyes against the throb.
You sat up slowly, wincing as you gingerly cradled the back of your head and opened your eyes. A flash of anxiety rushed through your system at the sight of fresh blood on your fingers when you pulled your hand away. That can’t be good.
“Ah, you’re awake,” an eerily familiar voice rang out from behind you, making you jump.
Whirling around, you came face to face with the man from the television audience once more, only now he was on a small screen on the wall, and his appearance had changed slightly. This time he was wearing a blue suit and purple helmet that encompassed his entire head and neck, his face the only part of him still visible.
He watched in quiet amusement as you took in your surroundings. You were alone in a small, grey room, nothing on the walls save for the tv screen and some kind of device in the corner of the ceiling that closely resembled a school bell.
“Truthfully, I wasn’t planning on physically harming you so soon, but you started to wake up in transit. Couldn’t have that.”
Your brain felt fuzzy as you tried to figure out what was going on, flashes of memory fading in and out in your mind. You remembered waiting for Johnny to return, something about a group called the Frightful Four. But then…then he appeared in your home. He had whipped out some kind of device that sprayed a blast of air in your face that had you choking; it had burned your lungs as you inhaled it, and that was the last thing you remembered. You had no recollection of starting to wake up after he had taken you, and no recollection of being hit.
“What do you want from me?” You finally spoke, voice raspy like tires on gravel. You would killfor some water, you realized then. How long had you been out?
“Not from you, necessarily. From your soulmate.”
The gears in your brain started turning, slowly but surely. You were being used as bait. “Why?”
He smirked. “Because I can. Because I want to wipe that smug little smirk right off his face when he realizes he cannot best me again, not this time. Not with his precious soulmate at stake.”
You narrowed your eyes, staring at this strange figure on the screen. You turned his words over in your mind, and one word in particular gave you pause. “‘Again'?”
His nostrils flared as he grimaced. “The Human Torch and I have battled before.”
“And you lost.”
His eyes narrowed as if in warning. "I was put in prison. But I escaped, bided my time for the perfect moment. And that’s when I saw you.”
You shivered. “You were there when we announced our relationship. How long have you been watching us?”
“I’ve been watching the Torch since I escaped prison 7 months ago. Imagine my delight when I watched him start walking across town every night in a meager disguise to go to a strange apartment.” His grin grew as your frown deepened. “I saw you and I knew. I just knew my moment had finally come.”
Tears burned in your eyes as the realization hit you—you hadn’t been safe since the moment you and Johnny met. He had been watching the two of you the entire time. Would you ever be safe? Were there others watching, biding their time? The thought pissed you off. “So, what? This is all because your precious little ego couldn’t take a hit from a superhero?”
“Careful, girl,” he snapped, gritting his teeth. “Your little Torch is nothing but an entitled brat. Everyone fawns over him, and for what? Because he was involved in a little space field trip gone wrong? No. He’s a gnat, and I will be the one to put an end to his existence. And then? Then I’m coming for the rest of you.”
Your heart pounded wildly against your ribcage. “Who are you?”
The man looked delighted that you had finally asked. “I am Bentley Wittman, known by many as ‘The Wizard.’”
You scoffed out a laugh without thinking. I seriously let myself get kidnapped by a guy who calls himself ‘The Wizard’?
And that’s when the rage really hit you, a white hot anger that started at the back of your neck and spread in a flash throughout your body. Your hands clenched into fists. How dare he try to ruin the best thing that had ever happened to you?
“You must not be known by that many, because I’ve never heard of you,” you bit back.
He quirked a brow as if amused by your sudden temper. “No? Then I’ll just have to make sure you never forget.”
Before you could even blink, a thin vapor began to swirl around the ceiling. You stared with wide eyes, searching for where it had come from, when the vapor began spreading throughout the room. The same substance that he had sprayed you with earlier. “No,” you whimpered. You grabbed your shirt and held it over your nose and mouth in an effort to keep from breathing it in, but you could feel the same burning in your lungs as before.
“Yes,” he said, laughter in his voice.
Spots filled your vision as your mind went hazy once more, your body beginning to sway. “No,” you repeated, your body slipping on the cold floor.
His cold, callous laughter was the last thing you heard before it all went dark.
***
Johnny’s feet hit the gravel as he landed at the exact location of the coordinates, his flames dissipating. The sun was hot in the sky above him, and he squinted against the light, trying to understand what he was looking at.
“A freakin’ cave,” he mumbled as Sue, Reed and Ben got out of the Fantasticar behind him.
The cave was huge, sitting tall and alone on the outskirts of Manhattan. It looked like any old cave, truthfully, only the entrance was a large metal door with a touchscreen panel beside it.
Sue squinted, holding her hand over her eyes to look at her younger brother. “What’s the plan?”
“I want you guys to just stay out here while I go in. If we’re not out in 30 minutes, come get me.”
“That’s your plan? We can’t just—“ Reed started, but Johnny interrupted.
“Reed. I need you to be my backup just this once. I can’t afford to be worrying about you guys too.”
“Johnny, we can help you. You don’t have to do this alone,” Sue urged.
Johnny closed his eyes and searched for patience, inhaling deeply before opening them again. “I know that. That’s why I’m telling you to come get me if I’m not out of there with her in 30 minutes.”
“But—“
Johnny didn’t respond and instead turned around and silently walked towards the cave entrance. His eyes scanned the touchscreen panel beside the metal door that hummed quietly with electricity underneath it. He knew Reed could probably figure out how to disarm it in minutes without alerting Wittman, but he really didn’t have the time. Or the patience.
“Johnny, what the hell!”
Johnny ignored the yelling from his sister as he simply melted the panel, door handle, and its hinges. With a swift kick, he sent the door crashing down to the floor with a loud bang. He turned around to look at the rest of his team, not missing the way Sue swallowed nervously at the look on his face. He was more serious than she’d ever seen him.
“30 minutes.”
They watched as Johnny stepped inside and disappeared down the hallway.
“We’re not really waiting 30 minutes, are we?” Ben asked.
Sue and Reed shared a look.
“No.”
***
This damn cave was a maze.
A seemingly endless, bleak hallway of twists and turns with no end in sight. Just plain grey walls and the faint hum of electricity. Every time he tried to retrace his steps, the floor plan seemed to change.
Johnny looked at his watch and almost growled in frustration. It’d been 10 minutes already and he had no idea where he was going, no idea where you were being kept. No closer to any answers. He didn’t have time for this.
Call it reckless, call it desperation, call it impatience, but Johnny made a snap decision to simply announce himself as he continued to make his way through the cave.
“Wittman!” He yelled, wincing slightly at the way his loud voice echoed off the walls. He knew this was a little stupid. He could picture the faces of the rest of his team now if they could see what he was doing. But he was desperate to get to you; he didn’t care what it took. He knew he could beat Wittman even on his worst day, so what difference did it really make? “It’s Johnny! I’m here, you asshole. Come and get me.”
The quiet hum of electricity suddenly got louder and louder until it went silent. Johnny froze, eyes looking in all directions for a potential threat. And then there was a click, like a microphone had turned on.
“Mr. Storm.”
Johnny whirled around, expecting to see Wittman right behind him. But there was nothing, just more empty hallways.
And then the sound of a chuckle. “I must say, I’m quite enjoying the sight of you wandering aimlessly through my maze.”
Johnny’s eyes scanned the ceiling as he continued walking once more, searching for any signs of cameras or speakers. But there was nothing.
“Where is she, Wittman?” Johnny demanded through gritted teeth.
“Ah, your soulmate. She’s here. Somewhere.”
Johnny turned a corner and ran straight into a wall. He took a step back and stared for several seconds, not believing what he was seeing. A dead end? There was no way. He ran a hand down his face, frustration rising with every passing second.
“Not there, though.”
He growled, staring up at the ceiling. “Damn it, Wittman, I’m right here! I know I’m the one you want so stop the bullshit. You wanna fight? We can fight. Just let her go.”
“Mmm, I don’t know. I think I’m having more fun watching you squirm.”
Johnny was seconds away from seeing red. Not wasting any more time, he held his hands up and began blasting the dead end with his flames.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Mr. Storm,” Wittman’s voice echoed in warning.
Johnny ignored him, instead turning up the heat and watching in disbelief as…nothing happened. The flames simply dissipated as soon as they made contact with the wall.
He heard Wittman huff through the microphone.
“I warned you.”
Johnny heard a faint hiss from above him. He glanced up and extinguished his flames as a thin layer of smoke began curling all around the ceiling before falling down like snow around him. “What the hell—“ He choked on his inhale, the mist burning his lungs. He began hacking, trying desperately to clear his lungs but it was too late, the mist was all around him, filling his chest. He knelt down, trying to fight against the rising dizziness, but when the black spots entered his vision, he knew he was in trouble. Stupid, stupid, stupid…
Your face was the last thing he thought of before he hit the ground.
***
Sound was the first of his senses to return to him. Silence, save for that constant, muted thrum behind the walls. He was still in the cave.
Sight was the second sense that returned. He blinked the blurriness away as he slowly opened his eyes and sat up, taking in his environment.
A small room with the same grey walls as the hallway maze, the only decorations a small television screen and some sort of school bell in the corner of the ceiling. He turned around then, and his heart just about lurched out of his chest at what he saw.
It was you.
You were laying on your side, your form curled into a ball with your back to him. And then he saw the dried blood on the back of your head, and all rational thought went out the window. Johnny scrambled over to you, ignoring the lingering dizziness in the outskirts of his vision.
“Y/n!” He gently turned you over, checking your face and body for any other signs that you’d been hurt. You were unconscious, and the sight of it coupled with your head injury had Johnny almost frantic. He brushed your hair back from your face, his hands gently patting your cheeks to rise you. “Baby, it’s me. Please wake up. Please, I’m begging you.” He leaned down and listened to your chest, feeling relieved when he could hear your quiet breathing, your heart still steadily beating.
“She’s quite alive.”
Johnny whipped his head up and saw Bentley Wittman himself appear on the small screen on the wall. Wittman looked as smug as ever, wearing a smirk as he watched his nemesis fret over the love of his life.
Johnny clutched you in his arms protectively. “What the hell did you do to her?”
“Careful with her head,” Wittman mocked. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have gassed her down again while she was already concussed…”
Johnny looked downright murderous. “You motherfucker.”
Wittman, on the other hand, appeared delighted. “Ohhhh, such language! You really do love her, don’t you?”
Johnny closed his eyes, swallowing the fear that repeatedly rose and fell in his chest like waves. He was starting to panic; the realization that he had completely lost control of the situation was finally hitting him. He’d never been so wrong, never totally underestimated a counterpart like this. The very idea that he or his soulmate could’ve been captured by the Wizard was completely absurd, and yet here he was, trapped in a cave with you unconscious and not a single clue as to how to get out. Not an inkling as to what Wittman really even wanted anymore. For the first time, Johnny Storm felt utterly powerless.
Wittman started laughing as if Johnny had told the world’s funniest joke, his eyes staring gleefully at the Human Torch so helpless through his camera screen. Johnny’s eyes burned, his arms still gripping you like you were his lifeline. “My god, what a pathetic sight. I’ve really won this time, haven’t I? You’re going to cry? This is more than I ever could’ve hoped.”
Johnny’s nostrils flared as fury rose in his chest. He was about to stand up and do something, anything, when he felt you stir in his arms. He looked down at you and suddenly all else fell away. He breathed your name like a prayer, one arm still cushioning you against his chest and the other reaching up to cradle your cheek in his hand.
You woke slowly, your eyes opening to a silhouette of a figure that looked identical to your fiancé. “Johnny?”
He nodded vehemently, a watery smile on his beautiful face as he affectionately rubbed his thumb against your cheek. “Yeah, baby, it’s me.”
You blinked the haze out of your eyes, the vision of your soulmate becoming clearer in front of you. It really was him. Your heart swelled, relief and the feeling of safety flooding your system. “You came.”
“Of course I did. You’re my girl.”
You grinned, reaching up to place your hand on his cheek, affection swirling in your chest at the way he melted into your touch.
“How adorable.”
You immediately froze, your brow furrowing. That…sounded like Wittman. But if Johnny was here with you, then Wittman couldn’t be—?
Johnny stared at you, swallowing nervously as he watched you piece together the situation at hand. You sat up and looked around, wincing at the ever-present throb in the back of your head. You heard Johnny mutter a “Careful” to you, but you barely registered it as you took in your surroundings.
You were still in the grey room. Wittman was still on the screen wearing a mocking expression. And Johnny was watching you like he was ashamed.
“Yes, you’re still here I’m afraid.” Wittman spoke like he’d known exactly what you were thinking. “The famous Human Torch couldn’t rescue his own soulmate.”
“Shut up,” you snapped, taking Johnny’s hand.
Wittman ignored you. “Now that you’re both awake, I’m going to tell you what’s going to happen next. I know you think you’re going to use your powers and fly off into the sunset, but you can’t. You see that bell up there?” He paused, watching yours and Johnny’s eyes flick to bell attached to the corner of the ceiling. “That’s a bomb. A bomb that is going to go off if you, Mr. Storm, raise the temperature by even a single degree. So I highly suggest not using your powers to try and get out of here.”
Shit. You turned and looked at Johnny, your heart breaking at the look on his face. You’d never seen him look like that, so…angry. Terrified. Broken. Your soulmate was only ever easy smiles, carefree yet still determined when it came to his job. So this? This felt very wrong.
“Why are you doing this?” Johnny asked quietly. “You wanted me, and you got me. What is your endgame?”
Wittman quirked a brow. “You really haven’t figured it out?” Johnny said nothing, instead continuing to glare at the villain on the screen. “I want to break you, Johnny Storm. I want to bring you to your lowest. Your weakest. I want you to see yourself for what you truly are: Nothing. And no one. A ‘superhero’ that couldn’t save his soulmate, nor himself. That’s my endgame…and my plan is working perfectly. So now, I will watch. I will watch you try and fail over and over again to escape, and I will watch you break.”
Johnny remained sitting on his knees. His hands were clenched in rage, but still, he said nothing. His eyes remained glued to the screen, but they’d glazed over. You knew he was taking in Wittman’s words, his mind elsewhere.
You stood up and walked over until you were right in front of the television screen. “You’re wrong. You’re nothing and no one, and you can’t stand the fact that Johnny is everything.”
Wittman frowned, his eyes narrowing. “We’ll see.”
And the screen went blank. Silence flooded the room.
You turned around and knelt down in front of your fiancé, taking his face in your hands. His glassy eyes stared down at the floor, his mouth pulled into a frown. “Johnny, look at me.”
He did as you asked, looking at you like a kicked puppy. “You are not nothing. You are Johnny fucking Storm, and we’re going to get out of this. Together. Do you hear me?”
“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly, shaking his head and placing his hands over yours. “I should’ve seen this coming, I should’ve known and I should’ve protected you. I’m a goddamn superhero, and yet I couldn’t—“
“Stop,” you interrupted. “You’re not a psychic, Johnny.”
“I should’ve known,” he said again. “Reed warned me about this, but I just thought…” He closed his mouth, shoulders slumping.
“Reed warned us, remember? But to hear about potential dangers and actually experience them is…a whole different thing, isn’t it?”
Johnny looked at you again but stayed quiet. And that’s when it really hit you. Was it devastating that you and the person that was quite literally made for you couldn’t exist like a normal couple? Yes. Was it terrifying that you may never really be safe again? Definitely. But would that make you change anything? If you could trade Johnny for guaranteed safety, would you? No. Even after everything, you’d do it all over again as long as it meant Johnny was yours.
“I would never trade you as a soulmate for anything, Johnny Storm. I don’t care if I’m never fully ‘safe’ ever again.”
“Don’t say that,” he pleaded, voice breaking. “I hate that I’ve dragged you into this…this life that you didn’t ask for. I can’t stand the thought of you risking your safety just to be with me. I’ve been going out of my damn mind since you were taken.”
“Johnny…I know we don’t have any control over who our soulmate is. But if I did, I’d still choose you. And I will continue to choose you. Every single day, for the rest of our lives. It’s you, or it’s nothing.”
A tear escaped Johnny’s eye at your words, which you were quick to wipe away. He placed his forehead against yours, lacing your fingers together. “I love you so much.”
“I love you too.”
“I promise you, we are going to get out of this,” he said, conviction lacing every word. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “The others came as backup, so if we can’t figure something out, they’ll come for us, okay?”
You nodded against him. “Okay.”
***
“Alright, I’m officially about to go insane,” Ben grumbled.
Ben, Sue and Reed were walking through the grey hallways, Sue in between them with her hands on their shoulders, making the three of them invisible. They’d been wandering aimlessly for an hour with no end in sight, and they were starting to lose hope. Every time they’d hit a dead end and turned around, it was like the hallways had changed, making it impossible to figure out where they were or had been.
“You’re telling me. My arms are about to fall off from exhaustion,” Sue grunted.
Reed turned the corner and stopped abruptly, ignoring the “oof” from Sue as she ran into him.
“Another dead end.”
“Yep, I’m going to go insane!” Ben exclaimed.
Sue sighed, stretching her neck. “We can’t keep doing this, Reed. Something has to give.”
“I know. We should’ve run into someone by now. It’s just—none of this makes sense.” Reed faced the wall again, staring at it as he tried to think through his next move. “Wait…” He trailed off, sliding his hands over the wall before knocking in various places.
“Uh, what are you doing?” Ben asked.
“Listening…” Reed trailed off, knocking a few more times before an elated laugh escaped him. “Ha! I figured it out! It’s hollow. This isn’t a dead end, there’s another hallway behind it.”
“How do we get past it?” Sue asked.
Ben cleared his throat. “Stand back.”
Sue scoffed. “You’re just going to bust through it? So much for not announcing our presence."
“Do you have any other bright ideas? I think we’re past the point of caring whether we’re seen or not—it’s been over an hour and not a hint of Johnny or Y/n. I don’t like it.”
Sue said nothing, instead taking her hands off of their shoulders and stepping back with Reed, all of them visible now.
Ben took a deep breath, shaking his head. “Alright, Johnny. For you, it’s clobbering time.”
***
“I really thought they’d be here by now,” Johnny muttered, his head hitting the back of the wall he was sitting against from beside you. It had felt like an eternity that you’d both been here, and still, no one had come.
You swallowed, biting your nails nervously. “Do you think Wittman could’ve gotten to them?”
Johnny shook his head, scoffing out a laugh. “I wanna say no, but I really don’t know. I’ve been wrong about everything else so far.”
You took his hand in yours. “Can you fly without your flames?”
He shook his head again, frowning.
You briefly wondered if you could get on Johnny’s shoulders and reach the bell that way, but the ceiling was still too tall.
“I think I’ve got a plan,” Johnny suddenly said, though he didn’t look any less dejected. “But it’s risky. It’s…well it’s a backup plan, honestly.”
You sat up. “I think we’ve reached the point of backup plans. What is it?”
Johnny turned and looked at you with a grimace. “Uh. I throw a fireball at it and try to melt the hammer on the bell.”
Your eyebrows flew to the top of your head. “But he said—“
“I know, if the temperature rises even one degree, it goes off.” Johnny then lowered his voice to a whisper in case Wittman was listening, which was likely. “I can throw fireballs at super speed.”
“But we don’t know how quick the bell can detect the rise in temperature.”
Johnny gave you a knowing look. “That’s why it’s risky.”
You rubbed your hands over your face. It was quite a risk, but it was the only thing either of you had come up with. Ben, Sue and Reed still hadn’t shown up, and you had no idea if something happened to them. It wasn’t like you had any miraculous powers to help you. The way you saw it, this was the only remaining option. “Okay. Do it.”
He took his hands in yours and tried to give you a reassuring smile. “Do you trust me?”
Your answer was immediate. “Always.”
Johnny leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaning down and capturing your lips in his before you could react. His hands cradled your face, pulling him against you like you were his anchor. “I love you,” he muttered against your lips as he pulled away.
“Love you more.”
He gave you a wink as he stood. “Not possible.”
He turned around and walked closer to the wall with the bell, staring up at it. His heart was pounding in anticipation, every nerve in his body alight. This was it. The do or die moment, literally. Everyone he cared about was on the line.
He closed his eyes, willing all thoughts to focus on his target. Holding his hands up and out towards the bell, he counted down in his head.
3…
2..
1.
You shut your eyes on instinct, a flash of red lighting up behind your eyelids, and then…
Silence.
Opening one eye, you looked up and saw the hammer had melted on its way to slamming into the bell. The bell remained fully intact.
“It worked,” you exhaled with a grin. “Holy shit.”
Johnny turned around with an elated smile on his face. “It worked!”
(x)
You stood up and ran to his arms, giggling as he lifted and twirled you around. “My hero.”
Johnny beamed at you, opening his mouth to respond when a furious Wittman reappeared on the screen.
“I wouldn’t look so smug,” he sneered, eyes wide and angry. “Not only are you still trapped, but you must really take me for a fool. You think I wouldn’t create a separate controller for the bomb?” You and Johnny both froze as Wittman held up a black box with a red button and pressed it before either of you could react. A rhythmic beeping began ringing out, and a manic grin spread across his face at your terrified expressions. “Yes, you hear that? That’s the countdown. You’ve got, ooooh, about 90 seconds before it goes off. Say your goodbyes.”
Johnny was momentarily stunned before he roared, punching the wall. “God damn it, Wittman! Please, just take me, okay? Kill me, whatever, I don’t care just please let her go!” He gently shrugged you off of him as you desperately pleaded with him to stop. “I’m not playing anymore, Wittman!”
But Wittman ignored him. “I suggest you spend what precious seconds you have left with your soulmate instead of begging me for a mercy that will not come.” He paused, laughing and shaking his head. “You have no idea the gift you’ve given me today, Mr. Storm, truly. Thank you.”
And then the screen cut to the timer. 75 seconds left.
Johnny immediately burst into action, throwing as many flames as he could into the walls and the ceiling in attempt to burn through them. “Come on, come on,” he muttered. “Come on!”
But nothing happened. The flames kept dissipating as soon as they hit the ceiling, just like they had in the hallway.
“Johnny,” you called out to him, tears in your eyes.
He ignored you, the flames continuously erupting from his hands and disappearing into nothing.
“Johnny, stop.”
But he didn’t stop. Not until you placed your hands on his shoulders and lowered his arms.
He fell to his knees.
You fell to yours right in front of him, taking his face in your hands once more and whispering his name again.
He looked up at you, tears now falling from his eyes, his lower lip wobbling as he placed his hands over yours. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Your own tears were flowing freely now. You did your best to give him a smile. “I’m not.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Why—“
“I told you already. I wouldn’t trade you for anything, Johnny. Not even after this.”
Johnny whimpered, his voice breaking at your admission. Even after being assigned a death sentence, you still chose him. “God, you’re just…you’re just the love of my life, you know that?”
You laughed through the tears despite everything, nodding. “You’re the love of my life too.”
He kissed you then, pouring every single emotion into it that he possibly could. “Best damn thing that’s ever happened to me,” he muttered against your lips.
50 seconds.
Neither of you were speaking anymore, instead just holding onto each other in a vice grip, your forehead against his. You supposed, in the grand scheme of things, going quickly with your soulmate wasn’t the absolute worst way to go.
“Johnny!”
The two of you looked up, and there on the screen was Sue, a panicked but determined expression on her face. Behind her was Reed, who’d stretched and wrapped himself around a raging Wittman to tie him to the chair he was still sitting in. Ben was beside her, his eyes glued to the screens in front of him as he worked to make a way out for you. You exhaled in relief at the sight of them.
“Sue?!” Johnny exclaimed.
“We got Wittman but we can’t stop the bomb. Grab the bell, Ben’s gonna lower the back wall. Fly out to the left, then go down the hall and make two rights and you’re out. Take the bomb up and let it blow once you’re outside the atmosphere. Y/n, follow after him and we’ll meet you outside.”
You both nodded urgently, Johnny wasting no time in flying up and carefully removing the bell from the ceiling. Ben slammed a button and the back wall began lowering into the floor, and that’s when Bentley Wittman yelled.
“STOP!”
All of you froze.
30 seconds.
Bentley Wittman looked stricken, frantic. “If you do this, if you put me in prison again, I will never stop. I will neverlet you rest, I will neverstop looking for you. You will never find peace. So long as I am alive, I will escape, I will look for you, and I will find you and your soulmate. I will make your lives a living hell, I promise you that.”
Johnny stared, the gears in his head turning as he mulled over what Wittman was really saying.
20 seconds.
“Johnny??” Sue demanded.
He blinked. “Let’s go,” he said suddenly, grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the exit.
“Johnny,” Ben called out. “You want us to—“
Johnny turned around for half a second. “Leave him.”
“But—“
“I said leave him!” he yelled. “Run!”
10 seconds.
Johnny scooped you up into his arms and set the rest of his body aflame, soaring through the maze of hallways and following Sue’s directions until he saw daylight coming through the hole in the wall that was once the cave entrance. Sue, Reed and Ben ran around the opposite corner, all of you sprinting out of the door and as far away from the cave as you could get.
“Sue, a little help!” Johnny called out.
2 seconds.
Sue immediately formed a forcefield around the 5 of you, and that’s when the explosion rang out.
The ground shook with the force of it, the sound deafening in your ears. Johnny instinctively covered your body with his as you shut your eyes and covered your ears, leaning into him. There was a flash of light across your eyelids, and then…nothing.
Sue took away her forcefield once all of the dust and rocks settled. You opened your eyes, and your mouth fell open at the sight before you. What was once a ginormous cave was now just a bunch of rubble and dust, and not a single trace of the one who’d taken you.
Bentley Wittman was no more.
***
Upon your return home to the Baxter building and thanking your superhero family relentlessly for helping to save your lives, Reed had your head checked out and found that you had received a grade 2 concussion from Wittman. Johnny had looked straight up murderous at the news, but Reed assured him that with adequate rest, you would be just fine.
“Just…no crazy funny business for a couple weeks, okay?” Reed had said, awkwardly clearing his throat and looking at anywhere but the two of you.
Johnny had choked on his own saliva at what his brother in law had insinuated, your cheeks burning in embarrassment. “Yep, thanks for the awkwardness, Reed! We’ll be going now.”
You’d immediately retreated to your bedroom, you and Johnny now just a mess of tangled limbs in your shared bed. From the moment you’d escaped the cave, Johnny had seemed physically unable to keep his hands off of you, like he was afraid that if he let go, you would vanish.
Your head was currently resting against his chest, taking comfort in the soothing sound of his steady heartbeat beneath your ear. His eyes were staring at a spot on the wall as his fingers played with your hair, alternating between halfheartedly braiding it and just simply combing through it. The silence was comfortable, but you knew what Johnny had on his mind. He’d had a far away look in his eyes since you’d both left the cave, and you knew why.
“Hey,” you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Hmm?”
You sat up and turned around to face him. “Are you okay?”
He swallowed, looking away from you. “I’m fine.”
Frowning, you gently took his chin in your hand, turning him so that he’d face you. “You didn’t kill him, Johnny.”
He sighed. “I didn’t save him, either.”
“He didn’t want you to,” you reminded him. “I don’t think he could live with himself knowing you beat him again, honestly.”
“I know.” Johnny rubbed his hands over his face. “Still sucks though.”
“I know,” you agreed. “But it doesn’t make you any less of a hero.”
You could tell by the look on his face that it still bothered him. You knew that as a general rule, Johnny didn’t kill people. Not even the supervillains. So you knew he was wrestling with his decision to leave Wittman behind, despite it being—in a weird way—merciful.
You sat up more and moved to straddle him in an effort to pull his focus towards you and away from his self doubt. You couldn’t stand the sight of him so dejected, so deflated, even after saving you. You’d put your life in his hands today and he had taken care of you, like you knew he would. You just needed him to see that.
His hands automatically went to your hips, the action making you smile softly. “You’re my hero, Johnny Storm.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up, just slightly. “Yeah?”
You nodded, running your hands up and down his chest before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his neck. “You came for me.”
He hummed, fingers squeezing your hips as you continued kissing his neck, your lips moving towards that one spot underneath his ear that always made him putty in your hands. “I’ll always come for you,” he muttered as his eyes fluttered shut, his voice getting huskier with every press of your lips against him.
You smirked, pulling away just slightly to look at him. “Oh yeah? You’re always gonna come for me?”
Johnny swallowed, desire coursing through him at the double meaning behind your words. He was starting to grin now. “Always have, always will.”
You leaned in and kissed him then, your tongue slipping into his mouth. Your hands slid underneath his shirt, your thumbs swiping over his nipples.
“Shit,” he gasped into your mouth before pulling away. “Wait, wait, remember what Reed said?”
You sat up and pouted. “I don’t wanna think about Reed right now.”
“Sweetheart,” Johnny huffed out a laugh, shaking his head and playfully poking your stomach. “He said no funny business. You’re concussed.”
“Nooo, he said no crazy funny business,” you corrected, leaning down to nibble at his ear, not missing the way his eyes rolled back into his head. He was just too easy. “So we won’t do any gymnastics this time. Simple.”
Johnny turned his head and captured your lips in another heated kiss. “Alright fine, I can’t argue with that. But I’m on top. For safety reasons.”
You smirked, gently climbing off of him to switch spots with Johnny, your head now resting back on the pillow as you looked up at him. “Yes sir.”
“‘Sir’ huh?” Johnny quirked a brow at you as he climbed above you, his fingers toying with the waistband of your sweatpants.
You bit your lip, fighting a grin as you nodded. He yanked down your sweatpants with your panties in tow, your breath hitching at the cold air hitting your increasingly wet core.
“Hmmm,” he hummed, his big hands spreading your thighs open for him. He licked his lips as he stared at your cunt before glancing up at you. “You like calling me that, don’t you?” His index finger swiped between your folds and gathered your slick, the action causing your back to arch as you gasped. “Jesus, yeah you do. Fuckin’ dripping for me and I’ve barely touched you.”
You whined, hips bucking towards him impatiently.
Johnny’s smirk only widened. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna give it to you, princess. Just gotta get a taste first.” His mouth was on you before you could even react, his hot, wet tongue sliding expertly against your entrance before his lips wrapped around your clit.
Your back arched almost violently at the sensation, his lips sucking harshly on your clit sending pleasure jolting through you. “You’re so good, Johnny,” you panted, fingers carding through his blonde hair. “So fucking good.”
Johnny hummed against you before pushing his middle and index fingers past your entrance and curling upwards, and you weren’t even sure if the sound you made was human. His fingers and mouth worked you over diligently until you could feel that burn in your lower belly start to grow hotter.
“F-fuck, Johnny, I’m close.”
He pulled away for half a second just to tell you to look at him, and when you obeyed, your climax hit you harder than you’d anticipated. The sight of him buried between your thighs, wide eyes staring at you like you’d hung the moon for him while simultaneously doing something so filthy had immediately sent you over the edge. Tears burned at your eyes at the intensity of it, wave after wave of pleasure sending your hips jerking against his mouth. He worked you through it until you began to squirm from sensitivity.
“Fuck,” you panted, huffing out a laugh as you caught your breath. “Come here.” Johnny beamed, haphazardly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he moved over you and captured your lips in a kiss that made your toes curl. You reached down past his boxer briefs and gripped his almost throbbing cock, grinning against his lips at the choked sound he made. “Never got to thank you properly for saving my life.”
His head fell to your shoulder, his breathing getting heavier as his hips bucked into your hand. “I’d do anything for you,” he panted. “Burn down the world just to get to you.”
Your heart squeezed in your chest. You pulled back a little, your eyes searching his beautiful face.
“I’d do anything for you too,” you breathed. “Most perfect soulmate I could’ve asked for.”
Johnny’s eyes turned glassy at your confession. He knew you loved him as much as he loved you, but truthfully, today had been the worst day of his life. He’d felt like a failure. But the way you were looking at him now, like he was your world, your rock, the only one you could picture your life with, maybe…maybe he really was still a superhero. Your superhero.
Johnny kissed you hard in response, letting his actions say what he knew words just couldn’t. He was so utterly and completely in love with you that sometimes he didn’t know what to do with all of it, like it was overflowing out of him. He motioned for you to sit up so he could slip your shirt over your head before taking his own off as well, his hands now exploring and memorizing every inch of you as if it were the first time all over again. He shook his head as if in disbelief. “Just fuckin’ beautiful.”
Your chest was damn near heaving in anticipation, desire swirling in your belly all over again just from the way he was looking at you. “Need you, Johnny.”
He nodded, leaning in to kiss your neck before positioning himself at your entrance. “I got you. Always got you.”
And then he pushed in, both of your mouths falling open at the delicious burn as your walls stretched to accommodate him. A guttural moan escaped you as he bottomed out, your eyes burning from the pleasure. Every time he hit home it was like he was always meant to be there, like he truly was made for you. It was always unlike anything you’d ever felt, and it was just so overwhelmingly good.
Johnny let out a desperate noise as he pulled back and snapped forward again, your nails digging into his back. “Y-you always feel so incredible.”
Your hips pushed up to meet his every thrust as he set up an easy rhythm, neither of you in any hurry to reach the finish line. You could tell Johnny wanted to take his time at first, his hands gliding over every inch of you like you were something precious and fragile. His lips peppered kisses all over your neck and chest as if he just couldn’t stop—and he couldn’t, he was fucking addicted to you.
“Baby,” he panted, placing his forehead against yours as he picked up his pace a few minutes later, the headboard starting to hit the back wall again with every thrust. “Need you to come with me, okay?”
You nodded frantically, the coil in your belly already winding tighter at his quicker pace. His hand slipped down between you and rubbed your clit just the way he knew always had you unfolding for him, and you were gone in seconds. “Fuck, I’m—“
“Yeahyeahyeah,” he chanted, finger working diligently as he kept his pace and continued to fuck up into you with precision.
And then you were both falling over the edge, Johnny groaning loudly as he buried his face in your neck and spilled into you, your mouth singing his name like a prayer. Completely spent, you held each other until your breathing returned to normal, Johnny gently resting on top of you. It was comfortable, like he belonged in your arms. Your fingers combed through his hair as his fingers gently ran up and down your arm.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled quietly after a few minutes.
“What ever are you sorry for?” You asked, sitting up a little.
He rested his head on your chest, eyes looking up at you. “That you were taken because of me. That you were hurt.”
“It’s not your fault.”
He sighed before pressing a kiss to your stomach and sitting up fully to take your hand in his. “I’m never gonna let anything else happen to you. I promise.”
“Johnny, you and I both know you can’t promise that,” you said gently. “And that’s okay with me. As long as I get to be with you, that’s all that matters.”
He frowned, but deep down…he knew you were right. Being soulmates with a superhero, danger came with the territory. Johnny knew that now, and he was determined to be more prepared from now on. Reed was right—there were definitely more safety protocols in your future.
Johnny pressed a long kiss to your knuckles. “Then I promise I will always protect you to the best of my ability. And I promise I will always come for you.”
You scooted closer, curling against him and resting your head on his shoulder. “My superhero.”
┊ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: after a snowstorm leaves you stranded at the baxter building for the night, johnny helps you stay warm.
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: johnny storm x fem!babysitter!reader.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.3K.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: very mild smut (mdni), suggestive content, nothing super explicit. friends to lovers, johnny is a professional yearner, confession of feelings, “share a bed to keep warm trope”, heavy making out, dry humping, groping, slight dirty talk, fluff, cute ending.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: first time writing johnny and lowkey loved this! I want to write a part 2 but we’ll see if my brain lets me commit! 😭 I hope you all enjoy!
Despite Reed’s mastery of crafting the upper levels of the Baxter Building, all of his intellect never accounted for how blisteringly cold it became in the wintertime.
New York was notorious for raging winters, blizzards that engulfed the city, stretching on for miles across the Atlantic. Today was no exception, with a cutting draft floating through every corridor.
It’s deceivingly pretty during a snowfall, blurred sleets of white blanketing the cityscape, twinkling amongst the graying skies.
Even in your sweater, you’re chattering away, staring outside as the blizzard seems to intensify with every passing minute.
“Reports say that it’s set to be one of the worst storms in Manhattan’s history,” The weatherman pipes up from the television. “We recommend light travel and staying indoors.”
“Looks like you’re stuck here,” Ben mused from the couch, Franklin dangling from one arm. “You can break from baby duty. I got him.”
“Thanks, Ben,” With a begrudging sigh, you rub your palms against your sleeves, catching over scratchy wool. “Reed and Sue won’t mind, will they?”
“Nah, they’ll understand. Can’t have you catching a cold or gettin’ stuck in the snow,” He shrugged, a sly smile creeping over his face. “Bet Johnny’ll be happy you’re staying.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You mumble, noting the humorous glint in his eyes. Ben isn’t oblivious in the slightest — but you might be.
“It doesn’t mean anything,” He countered, but you can tell that there’s more to it than that. “He’ll be happy that you’re here.”
It’s the middle of December — the thick of the holiday season, which explains Reed and Sue’s absence. Between Christmas shopping and maintaining the world’s safety, they were busy.
Hushed, you sit beside Ben, feeling Franklin’s hand reach for the collar of your sweater, letting out a myriad of baby coos.
It’s no secret that Johnny has the biggest crush on you; so monumental, in fact, that whenever the both of you were together, it was disgustingly evident.
Maybe you were somewhat oblivious, or afraid of falling — or both.
Johnny’s swoon-worthy history with women was commonplace, and you knew it, but he’d become unusually tame over the past year.
Coincidentally, Ben pointed out, this behavior aligned perfectly around the time you started to babysit.
“I can’t stay all night,” Despite your protests, Ben shakes his head, waving your concern aside. “Really, I can’t. I’ll have to drive home inevitably.”
“We got guest rooms,” Nonchalantly, he shifts against the couch cushions, gently bouncing Franklin in one arm. “You heard the news — stay indoors, no travel.”
“Light traveling,” Correcting him, you tuck your hands into your sleeves, body occasionally spasming with cold chills. “It’s freezing in here.”
“It’ll warm up soon,” Ben chuckles, and you shoot him a pointed glare, marked by warm features and furrowed brows. “Sorry, I’ll cut it out.” He surrenders, glancing back at the television.
As if on-queue, a human-shaped pyre comes blazing by the balcony, cutting through the grey haze of snow with ease.
Orange glitters against the snow, melting a rather sizable pool on the deck where inches of white used to be.
He’s carrying several bags when he strolls through the glass doors, leather jacket fringed with fleece, blonde tresses still in something of a disarray.
Johnny’s handsome; there’s no question about it, no second-guessing or hesitation. He’s suave, humorous, boisterous, charming, but above all, he’s astoundingly loyal.
There’s a sense of wonder about him, always looking for the next adventure, seeking knowledge in his own way.
You’ve maintained a cordial friendship over the last several months, with you babysitting Franklin. Admittedly, you had a crush, but what girl didn’t?
“You guys see how much snow’s out there?” Johnny muses, seemingly surprised to still see you sitting in the living room. “You’re still here.”
It’s almost breathless, the way he says it; full of a subtle amazement that almost isn’t so subtle, accompanied by a bout of ogling.
Sparkling blues roam over the sweater you’re wearing, a rich emerald that compliments your features. He keeps looking, longer than what was considered appropriate.
Ben almost coughs to break Johnny out of his spell.
“You sound disappointed,” Your remark is met with an immediate reaction as Johnny shakes his head and scrambles to counter you. “No?”
“No! Not disappointed, just — A good surprise, I—” He stops himself with a cough, mouth curling into a smile. “Probably best if you didn’t drive home in this anyway.”
“That’s what I said,” Ben cut in, bouncing a half-asleep Franklin in his lap. “I don’t think Reed and Susie’ll care if you stay a night.”
Johnny’s eyes glitter, his enthusiasm brimming at the edges, but he keeps it tactful. “Mi casa es su casa, m’lady.” He gives you a playful half-bow.
“Thanks, Johnny,” Flustered, you divert the sudden bout of tension toward the obnoxious amount of shopping bags he’s hauling in his arms. “Did you go on a spree or something?”
“It’s the Christmas spirit,” Johnny grouses, blonde brows furrowing together. “For the record, half of this is for my nephew.”
Ben blinks when he realizes the amount of stuff he’s toting around. “He’s a baby, Johnny.” He deadpans, but Johnny is already swift with a rebuttal.
“A baby who deserves the best first Christmas ever,” He scoffs, puffing his chest out when he hears you laugh. “I got everybody something.”
“Oh yeah? What’d you get me?” Teasingly, you toss the remark his way, playful and amused. The last thing you expected was Johnny’s response.
“Can’t tell you,” He states, matter-of-factly. “That’s a Christmas surprise, dear.” Johnny uses the nickname with a sense of endearment, but it borders on something more.
From the couch, Ben nearly wants to lock the both of you in a closet and force a confession to get it over with. He groans theatrically, rolling his eyes.
“Funny.” Thinking he’s still messing with you, you seem to miss the sincerity in his gaze. Johnny really did get you something.
Ben turns the television off, moving from the couch with a soft grunt.
“I’m gonna put the little guy to bed and turn in,” Ben interjects again, squinting at Johnny with a sense of scrutiny. “Make sure she gets her guest room.”
“I have excellent hospitality skills,” Johnny murmurs, arms beginning to strain from all of his various bags. “Tell Franklin that Uncle Johnny says goodnight.”
“Uncle Ben will relay the message to Franklin.” Ben chuckles, giving you a warm smile before wandering towards the stairs. “Night, lady.”
“Goodnight, Ben. Thanks again,” You give him a small wave before he departs, glancing at Johnny with an exasperated expression. “I feel like I’m overstaying my welcome.”
Johnny scoffs derisively, as if you’ve said something deeply offensive. “Overstaying? Not a chance,” He muses, gesturing for you to follow. “Right this way to the premium suite.”
Unable to keep from smiling, you trail after Johnny, smoothing your hands over your sweater. “I have to ask, what’d you get Ben for Christmas?”
“Season tickets to the Mets,” He wanted something sincere, something that wasn’t a gag-gift as he’d done once or twice in the past. “He’s a baseball guy.”
“That’s sweet of you,” The both of you make your way into another wing of the Baxter Building, past another corridor. “And Franklin?”
“Oh, uh,” Johnny had to do a mental registry of everything he’d bought his nephew. “It was a lot of baby stuff, you know — toys. Got him an abacus so Reed doesn’t think I’m a bad influence.”
With a huff of laughter, you find yourself in a wider hallway, adorned with pop-art and a few framed photographs.
“Uncle of the year,” You tease, watching as Johnny nudges open a door that hasn’t seen much use. “Is this it?”
“Mm-hm, the designated guest suite,” He shuffles past, fumbling for the light switch. As a soft, orange glow illuminates the room, he waves a hand toward it all. “Here we are.”
To entertain, you let out a theatrical ‘wow’, shuffling through the doorway and onto the pattered carpet. “This is gorgeous.”
Johnny shrugs, nonplussed. “Not too shabby. Window has a nice view, and —” Johnny holds up a remote. “Your very own television.”
The low whistle you let out makes him snort, and you can’t help but marvel at your surroundings anyway. Admittedly, it is beautiful — but it’s still freezing cold.
“Thank you for doing this. I feel bad,” Sheepish, you tuck your hands into the sleeves of your sweater. “Is it always really cold in the Tower this time of year?”
“Don’t feel bad. I don’t wa—” He stops himself and swallows. “We don’t want you to get caught in the storm. I don’t really notice the cold.” There’s a hint of a smile on his lips.
“Oh, right,” Gesturing to him with a sleeve, you let out a soft giggle. “You’re very warm.” You state the obvious, a twinkle in your eyes.
“I think what you really wanted to say was hot,” Johnny muses, and as much as you want to agree with him, you try to play it off. “Are you cold?”
Before you can tell him that you need four layers to survive, H.E.R.B.I.E comes zooming through the door, carrying a bundle of Fantastic Four pajamas.
“Perfect timing,” Grinning, Johnny bends to grab the fleece-lined clothing, blonde brows quirked in amusement. “Your very own wardrobe. Thank you, Herbert.”
H.E.R.B.I.E beeps excitedly when Johnny pats him on the top of his head, causing you to giggle. The robot slowly begins to roll out of the room.
“Thank you, Herbie,” The pajamas do look comfortable, and you’re inclined to take them and try to burrow beneath the covers. “These are very on-the-nose.”
“Well, you’re part of the family,” Johnny’s tone softens a bit, blue eyes flickering over you, albeit briefly. “Mm — Do you need anything before I go?”
You’re part of the family.
Johnny’s remark makes your heart swell, but part of you deflates in the same breath. Maybe that’s what he viewed you as — family, and nothing more.
Despite the momentary sting, you brush it off with grace, mustering another smile as you hold the pajamas aloft.
“I don’t think so. You’ve done more than enough,” You want to apologize again, but it almost seems futile at this point. “I might try and get some sleep.”
“Right, yeah,” He’s still shouldering an obscene amount of bags, feet like weighted anchors as he still stands there. “If you need anything, I’m upstairs.”
Johnny also wants to tell you that he’s completely head over heels for you, but it feels ridiculously inappropriate at the moment. He almost defies it anyway, stopped by his own thoughts.
“Thanks again, Johnny. This means a lot to me.” Your smile makes his brain go fuzzy, makes his mouth dry, heart stuttering.
He tries to recover his fumble with a noisy cough and a nod. “Yeah, it’s no problem,” Johnny trails off momentarily. “It’s nice having you around.”
Lashes flutter In rapid succession, lips parting as you try to pull yourself together. “Oh,” You want to wither away. “That’s very sweet of you to say. I like being around you.”
When you realize what you said and how it could’ve been interpreted, you almost blurt something else out. Instead, you’re quiet, and the tension brews like a growing storm.
Johnny’s typically the flirt; cool, collected, and gallant. Something about you makes him flustered, lose his balance. “Yeah?”
“Yes, um — You’re a very good friend.” As soon as the word ‘friend’ leaves your mouth, his hope is extinguished then and there.
He wants to implode with disappointment, knowing that you’ve made your feelings clear. You just see him as a friend, and nothing more.
You feel stupid, like you said something completely idiotic. A flicker of dismay crosses Johnny’s features, and he clears his throat.
“Thanks, uh — Goodnight.” He blurts, and with as much suaveness as he can, walks out of the guest room with his head held high.
His sudden departure causes you to bristle, and you fear you’ve said something wrong or upset him. “Goodnight, Johnny.” You say, but he’s already halfway down the hallway.
It was glaringly awkward, your exchange, but you don’t chalk it up to anything serious. Instead, you shut the door and change into the pajamas you were given.
You’re still cold even with the fleece lining; you’re starting to think that you’re doomed to be cold for an entire evening.
Flipping the lights off, you get comfortable in the bed, fluffing up the pillows and scurrying beneath the blankets. It offers some relief, but not as much as you were hoping for.
As you settle within the covers, you close your eyes and attempt to fall asleep, subject to chills passing through your spine even still.
When you wake up, the clock hasn’t moved as much as you hoped it would. Lashes kiss the skin beneath your eyes, brows furrowing as you adjust to check the time.
It’s only thirty minutes before midnight, causing you to let out a soft groan.
Outside, the snow drags on in quiet sheets of white, glittering against the nighttime cityscape. It’s slowed somewhat, but not enough to warrant any real change.
Goosebumps cling to your flesh, and you’re still cold, teeth chattering away as you rub your hands against the blanket. The friction is only a temporary alleviation, nothing permanent.
With a sigh, you drag yourself from bed, hoping to go searching for another blanket or two. The low glow sparkles against the glass panes of your window, shimmering over the carpet.
Shuffling towards the door, you creep through, met with the hush of the Baxter Building. You deliberate with going to ask Johnny, but you stop yourself.
You didn’t want to potentially wake him up just for blankets; it seems silly.
Nevertheless, you softly wander through the corridor, opening up the first cupboard you come across. It’s surprisingly empty, much to your dismay.
Continuing on, you step into the living room, hands tucked into your sleeves, palms rubbing together to find some spark of friction.
The Christmas tree sits soundly in the corner, decorated with blue-and-white tinsel and a myriad of ornaments. Amusingly enough, the topper is a glowing human-shape — Johnny.
Pausing in your tracks, your gaze lingers fondly on the top of the tree, and you can’t help but smile. It seems like something he’d do; or it might’ve been Ben’s idea.
Johnny’s always had a heart of gold, and tonight made you appreciate him even more. You cringe when you remember calling him a good friend; you wished you didn’t say it.
With a soft sigh, you turn around, catching a glimpse of orange emanating from the kitchen.
From your position beside the sofa, it’s easy to make out Johnny’s physique, one hand engulfed in flames, the other clutching onto a bag of chips.
When he swivels around, he sees you standing there, pajamas a size too large, looking as if you’ve just seen a ghost.
“Hi.”
He greets you, blonde tresses slightly disheveled from half-sleep. His tone is audibly perplexed, using his hand as a light source.
“Hello,” Your mouth twitches into a sheepish smile, hands hidden in your sleeves. “Hungry?”
“Always,” Johnny chimes, stepping from the kitchen as he lingers at the edge of the dining room, noticing the chill that passes through you. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for more blankets,” As you confess, you rub your hands together again. “I’m freezing cold. Did Reed not invest in a heater?”
Concerned, Johnny can hear your teeth chattering from where you stood. “Sure you’re not getting sick or something? You could’ve come and asked me.”
“I didn’t want to wake you up over blankets. I don’t feel sick, either. I’m always cold.” With an exasperated sigh, you shrink beneath Johnny’s poignant stare.
“C’mon, I’ll get you some,” He gestures for you to follow him, mouth curling into a soft smile. “Bed comfy, at least?”
“Thanks, and yes,” Relieved, you trail after him, and you’re delighted to find some warmth when you’re in his proximity. “It must be nice to be your own heater.”
Johnny had an idea; it wasn’t a good one, either.
He almost proposed sleeping together to keep you warm, but he knows that it’ll cross every boundary, ruin all thresholds, and make things awkward.
He’s your friend, you said it yourself. The last thing he wants is to ruin that, or say something that’ll turn you away, make you uncomfortable. He can’t fathom losing you.
“I barely notice it anymore,” Johnny replies, stopping by one of the closets near the staircase. He pulls out a few spare blankets for you. “I’ll escort you back, m’lady.”
His tone is teasing, a low lull that makes your stomach twist with butterflies. “Thank you, Johnny.” You murmur, smitten as he walks you back to your room.
A tenuous silence follows as you make the short trek back to your guest room, the door still left ajar from your earlier wandering.
Johnny comes to a halt in the doorway, fire dissipating from his hand, holding blankets aloft in one, bag of chips tucked under the other arm.
Taking the blankets, you give him another smile, and he nearly sways, gaze glittering as he stares at you.
You’re beautiful; the most beautiful thing he’s laid eyes on.
Glittering light dances across your eyes, visage illuminated by the ochre glow pooling from the bedroom. He’s eerily quiet, as if the words have been ripped from him.
“I’m gonna propose an idea, and you can say no,” Johnny begins, breaking the silence to alleviate the stewing tension. “Alright?”
“Alright,” A sudden pang of nervousness stabs at your gut, fingers tensing over the blankets in your arms. “Shoot.”
“You’re a glacier, I’m warm,” He starts in, and you already know what he’s about to say; you’re already feeling the goosebumps. “I can lay with you for a little while.”
“Johnny …” You know it’s a bad idea, but not for that reason.
It’s bad because you know it’ll only be as friends; and your feelings are already screaming. The affection you feel for him, how much you adore him, it’s pouring out of you.
“I know it’s stupid, and I know how it looks. I’m not — I just don’t want you to be cold,” His tone is mildly strained, and he feels stupid. “This is ridiculous, isn’t it?”
Johnny knows his reputation; he loves women, he’s popular, a metaphorical heartthrob. He doesn’t want to be that to you.
He wants to be just Johnny, stripping away whatever labels he’s been pinned with, no more playboy attitude; he wants to be yours.
“It’s not ridiculous,” The sweetness of your cadence is unmistakable as you clear your throat, deliberating your options. “It’s really sweet of you, Johnny.”
Feeling some relief, he unfurls himself from the brief bout of stress, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck. “I’ll leave whenever you want me to.”
“Okay,” Stepping backwards, you motion for him to follow you inside, and he does, gently shutting the door behind him. “Thank you for doing this.”
“It’s not a problem,” Johnny replies, watching as you place the blankets down on the edge of the bed. The both of you are still a little awkward. “We can lay down, or …”
“Right.” With a brief cough, you scurry into bed, delving beneath the covers as you anxiously wait for him to join you.
The beating of your heart is like hummingbird wings, quick and erratic, followed by a rush of blood to your head. You wait rigidly, watching as he sets his chips down on your nightstand.
Johnny is unusually slow to get in, but once he does, you can feel the heat bleeding from his flesh like an open flame.
The relief is instantaneous, and he adjusts to get comfortable, head on the pillow, arms folded atop his chest. He doesn’t try to invite you closer without your initiation.
Splayed on your back, you can’t help but gravitate closer, arm brushing against his as you bask in his body heat. You steal a glance at him, hoping this wasn’t too awkward.
It’s hushed for awhile; just your breathing and his, twined together through the dimly-lit darkness.
“You warming up?” He asks, head craning enough to look at you. You’re so pretty, hair slightly mussed, wearing those blue pinstripe pajamas.
“A little.” Clearing your throat, you hope that it’ll improve with time. Already, your body is thanking you, and Johnny takes away the cold’s bitter sting.
“Can I propose something else?” Johnny blurts, blue gaze trained on the ceiling.
“Of course.” The chatter of your teeth starts to subside a little bit, and you realize that you didn’t need those extra blankets after all.
“Would you be opposed to being held?” He inquires, chivalrous as ever. Admittedly, the way he asks makes you burn with want, features exceedingly warm.
“No,” You reply, barely above a whisper and as soft as can be. “I’d like that, if you’re okay with it too.”
“Mm-hm.” Johnny hums, shifting his right arm and simultaneously turning his body at an angle. You slip right into him, cheek pressed snugly against his chest.
He’s almost staring down at you with the newfound position, bicep cradling the back of your head, palm splayed out near the middle of your spine.
It’s glaringly intimate; you feel it, and so does he.
Maybe that’s the point.
Silence seeps between the both of you, but it’s lost any clumsiness, any sense of awkwardness stripped away in exchange for something else.
Johnny holds you close, other hand still glued to his side. He doesn’t want to ruin anything or shift the atmosphere; but this all feels right. It feels like a puzzle piece he’d been searching for.
“Johnny?”
His daze is interrupted by the sound of your voice, little more than a murmur, fringed by a sense of nervousness.
“Yeah?”
It’s on the tip of your tongue, a confession that could change everything, for better or for worse. It teeters perilously, and you decide to not say anything, swallow your words.
“Nevermind.” You internally cringe when it slips from your mouth. It’s quiet again, and he holds you still, hand gently adjusting against your back.
Johnny deliberates and knows that, whatever you wanted to say, it was serious. He decides to take the plunge that you swerved away from, for both of your sakes.
“One last proposal?” His suggestion is marked by a husked tone, like molten heat pooling from his mouth. It makes you shiver, attention fixated on him without wavering.
“You don’t have to ask, Johnny.” You whisper, tilting back enough to catch the warm cerulean of his stare, causing you to swallow.
“I want to be more than friends.” He utters, letting it fly into the open. When it settles, this great unspoken thing thrust between you both, you feel dizzy.
None of it feels real, and part of you worries he might be joking; from the look in his eyes, none of this is remotely close to a joke.
“What?” It’s all you can muster at the present, pupils expanding, visage contorting into an expression of bewilderment.
“I think you’re incredible; with Franklin, with us, with everything,” Johnny murmurs, hoping that he isn’t about to destroy your friendship. “I really like you — really like you.”
His emphasis is convincing enough, but his words strike right to your heart. Warmth snakes over the back of your neck, hot and burning.
“I really like you too, Johnny,” It’s tender, your tone of voice; a placating hum that helps him unwind. “I have for a while, I just — I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way.”
At last, he feels content.
No more uncertainty, no more believing he’d only ever be resigned to just a friend, no more breaking his own heart at the thought of you.
His mouth curls into a smile, toothy and all, and he almost seems disbelieving. “You really thought I wouldn’t be head over heels for you?”
“I don’t know,” You muse, sheepish as Johnny leans in to plant a chaste kiss against your forehead. Your first kiss, and he’s a gentleman. “I was wrong, obviously.”
“Obviously,” He teases, blue eyes alight, oozing with affection. “I am, though — head over heels for you. I’ll tell everybody.” Johnny’s grinning now, feeling you laugh into his chest.
“You’re perfect, you know that?” The sincerity in your tone is enough for him; he knows you mean it. “You have a beautiful heart, Johnny.”
Blonde lashes kiss the skin beneath his eyes, breath hitching subtly. It doesn’t happen often where he’s blushing, but he does, and it’s a good feeling.
The way he looks at you burns right through you, incendiary enough to erupt into something fiery. It’s how he’s looked at you for months.
“Another proposal I’d like to make.” He mumbles, voice dipping an octave, rich and husky. It makes you shiver with anticipation.
“Just kiss me.” Your minds are aligning, on the same path as you blurt it out.
Lacking a shred of hesitation, Johnny does just that, tilting inward until his mouth finds yours. Like the rest of him, it’s warm — and it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed it’d be.
The kiss is sluggish, exploratory; he’s more focused on the comfort of it, of making sure that he isn’t pushing the limit with you.
His hand caresses along your spine, the other shifting to sweep across your cheek until he’s cupping your jaw.
Reciprocating the kiss, your eyes flutter shut, gleefully basking in his fire, a common burn shared between the both of you. He’s a good kisser, and he’s painstakingly gentle.
You reach to gingerly hold onto his forearm, soft fingertips kissing the muscle there, tracing beside his wrist. He lets out a brief exhale, mouth still moving with yours.
To his surprise, you don’t stop for anything, other hand curled tight against the collar of his shirt. It becomes a little fervent, your kiss.
Johnny happily succumbs, thumb caressing your cheek as he urges you close for another kiss. It’s deep, tangled with a blistering passion.
Absentmindedly, his leg shifts, and without thinking, he nudges it between yours. It was done in the moment, while his head was so far up in the clouds.
When you feel his thigh brush at the apex of your legs, you shiver, mouth agape to make room for a gasp of surprise.
The pressure there only blossoms, pinpricks of pleasure surging through your core. You can’t tell if it fully registered with him or not, but you don’t want him to stop.
“You okay?” Johnny pulls away when he notices your gasp, hoping that it wasn’t too intense. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to get carried away.”
“More than okay, it’s …” Swallowing the slight lump in your throat, you chew at your bottom lip. “Your leg.” You state, and his eyes widen.
“That was not intentional,” He looks a little frazzled and apologetic, realizing what he’d done. “Let me adjust here …” As Johnny starts to pull back, you try to make him stay put.
His body tenses when he feels your hand against his thigh, like electricity jolting through his veins. Johnny pauses, looking to you for consent.
“This isn’t why I confessed to you.” He murmurs, hoping that you’ll understand. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that this was his goal all along.
“I know,” With a reassuring smile, you move to plant a kiss against his cheek. “I just — I don’t want you to stop.” Barely above a whisper, you let him know what you want.
Johnny’s breath hitches this time, tongue darting to wet his bottom lip when you express your feelings. He knows what it means, and he knows where things could lead.
His hand strokes circles over your cheek, quietly dipping down to capture your mouth in another kiss. Want simmers beneath the surface; he doesn’t try to hide it.
A soft noise stirs within your throat, brows creased in concentration as you return the kiss. Your hand ghosts across his chest, settled against his abdomen.
“Tell me if you want to stop, and I will.” He murmurs into your lips, forehead brushing over yours.
“Okay.” Through an exhilarated whisper, you shift closer, as if that’s possible. Space becomes nonexistent between you both.
Johnny adjusts himself enough to hover above you, still wedged close, keeping his thigh slotted firmly between your legs. The kiss is all heat; affection and desire intermingled.
It’s almost effortless, kissing Johnny; you aren’t nervous, you’re floating. He makes you feel comfortable, melting away your worry.
He’s passionate yet tender, never dropping the affection even as his thigh begins to graze against your core.
Ripples of bliss unfurl throughout your cunt, causing you to stifle a low whine into the kiss. His chest shakes with a groan, bicep flexing, features washed in scarlet.
Chasing after that sliver of pleasure, you begin to grind against him too, hips rolling into his, pouring gasoline onto an open flame.
Friction hums with a white-hot buzz, shooting through your body and his. “Johnny.” You sigh, still rocking into his thigh.
Johnny swallows another groan, hand caressing your jaw, and then dipping to your chest. He kisses you hard, pulling a whine from your throat.
Through the veil of clothing, you can feel the warmth of his palm, exuding heat in comforting waves. His hands flex over the buttons, contemplative.
“Mind if I take this off?” He murmurs, mouth trailing to press strings of hot kisses along your throat. Poised, Johnny notices the enthusiastic bobbing of your head.
“Yes,” A flicker of shyness creeps in, features stinging with heat, body a mess of desire and nerves. “You’re so handsome.”
Preening beneath your praise, his mouth quirks into a sultry smile, thigh gently fretting into your core. Another moan leaves you, hands gripping at his collar.
“And you’re the prettiest girl there is.” Johnny replies seamlessly, voice a low lull beside your ear. It’s enough to make you shiver, stomach churning with warmth.
With a tender embrace, he fumbles with your buttons, catching a glimpse of your chest. Being mesmerized is an understatement; he’s enthralled by you.
He feels your fingers surge through his tresses, gripping at the blonde locks as you drag him in for another kiss.
Steeped in the flicker of a dim ochre, you resemble some painting, painfully beautiful; Johnny wants to remember this forever.
His breath hitches, mouth still sweet with reciprocation. Slowly, your hips urge against him, eliciting another groan from his chest.
Between feverish, needy kisses, his hand moves to cup your breast, still covered by an ivory brassiere. Still, the action is enough to make you squirm, arching into him.
As the pajama top sags on your body, parted through the center, you feel his palm knead into your breast. It’s like a hot brand, a reminder.
The both of you remain tangled together in some conglomerate of heat, grinding against one another, friction prevailing.
Johnny huffs, cock throbbing with an incessant ache the more you rock forward; the more he touches you, the harder it becomes to ignore.
He’s sweltering like summertime, but it’s a sweet heat that you’re finding yourself sinking into. Lips collide again and again, never losing their fervor.
Each mesh of mouths is exceedingly kind, and Johnny treats you better than anyone has before. His touch is reverent, like you’re on some pedestal.
When tongues decide to swipe over one another, he groans into your lips, hips rutting forward. You cling tightly to him, kissing hard, kissing like you need his air to survive.
Outside, the snow begins to quiet, mere wisps of white instead of blistering sheets, blanched light pouring in through the windowpanes.
The barrage of intense kisses begins to slow to a lackadaisical crawl, lips somewhat swollen by lengthy stretches of twined mouths.
Hushed, his mouth drifts away from yours, only to press against the underside of your jaw, and then to your neck.
It pulls another whine from your diaphragm, hands clinging to him. He stops for a second to look at you, gaze half-lidded and devoted to you.
His thigh still shifts between your legs, applying another dose of pressure that makes you burn with desire. His name drifts from your lips, feather-light and affectionate.
In a clamor, one of your hands finds itself against the hem of his shirt, shifting beneath the fabric as you let it rest over his abdomen.
Somehow, Johnny interprets this as a universal sign for off, and so he adjusts, hand hooking into the hem of his shirt. He peels it off in one motion, tossing it elsewhere.
“Better?” He prompts, tone heavy with a teasing lilt as he lavishes across your neck. His mouth stops at a sensitive spot, pressing there instead.
“You look good no matter what,” You assure, palms dragging across his abdomen, towards his chest. “But this is nice.”
The icy temperature in your fingertips is extinguished by his natural heat, and you can feel him smile into your throat.
“Still cold?” Johnny mumbles, planting fiery kisses over your jugular, climbing down to the expanse of your collarbone.
“Not as much,” You sigh, lashes fluttering, butterflies erupting in the pit of your belly. “Think you’ve burned it all away.”
“Hm,” He hums, kissing along your chest, hand still kneading into your breast. “Are you sure?” Johnny teases, causing you to huff.
“Maybe.” Through a half-moan, your hand gently perches over his crown, through mussed blonde. Your other palm is steady, caressing against his chest.
Again, he grinds into you, the both of you making noise simultaneously, vocalizing your pleasure. You wonder if he plans to take it further.
A tenuous silence fills in the gaps, marked by your breathy sighs and his subtle grunts, mouth worshiping your flesh.
Johnny prefers it this way, appreciating you, taking his time in the ways that matter most. His lips fall between your breasts, blue hues momentarily searching your face.
He hesitates, jaw tense, tongue absentmindedly wetting his bottom lip. Slowly, he kisses his way back up to your jaw, blanketing you with his body.
Coming back to your lips, he kisses you with every shred of passion he can muster. It sets your nerves ablaze, causing you to let out a soft moan.
“How would you feel about going on a date?”
Unprompted, he asks you between sluggish ruts of his thigh pressed into your core. It makes you squirm, and when he realizes it, he stops.
“I would feel amazing about it,” You muse, fingertips skimming across his biceps, over the patches of freckles on his shoulders. “I’d love to.”
“Sweet,” Johnny sighs in relief, mouth curling into a smile. “I think you deserve that, you know, before we do anything more … Intense.”
Part of you felt a semblance of elation, flattered that he’d even consider such a thing. It showed his character, his heart before anything else.
“That’s really sweet of you.” You murmur, unable to stop smiling, skin burning with warmth. Whatever cold you felt before, he’d ripped it away entirely.
“I don’t want you to think that I’m after this,” He states, propping himself up on one elbow, his other arm draped over your hips. “Because I know how it can look …”
“Whatever perceptions people have of you, I know you, Johnny,” Reassuring, you melt into him, palm cupping his jaw, the other flat on his collar. “I know how you feel, and I know how I feel.”
He nods, mouth still pulled into a smile, revealing laugh lines and a twinkle in his eyes. “I feel crazy about you,” He sighs. “In a good way.”
“I’m glad you made that distinction, thank you.” With a bout of laughter, you feel his fingers draw circles near your waist.
“Of course, m’lady,” Johnny chimes, diving in to press several kisses along the side of your face. “Not to sound weird, but I’m glad you got snowed in tonight.”
“It’s not weird,” You grin, still caressing over his jaw, dipping toward the arch of his brow. “I’m really glad, too. I think this was perfect timing.”
“I concur,” He teases, tone sincere despite the playfulness of his expression. “You know, I really did get you something for Christmas.”
“You’re kidding,” With a theatrical groan, you plant a hand over your face. “Johnny, you didn’t have to!” You feel like you’re falling behind, but he’s shaking his head.
“Not kidding. For the record, this is the greatest Christmas gift I’ve gotten,” He beams, holding you against his chest. “Beats out Reed’s super-watch he got me two years ago. Don’t tell him that.”
“You’re ridiculous,” You muse, unable to smother your laughter as Johnny lifts his eyebrows. “But I’m really happy about this.”
“I’m yours,” Johnny murmurs, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “Good. I’d be worried if you weren’t happy.”
“I’m over the moon, for the record.” You murmur, accompanied by a noisy yawn. When you check the clock, it’s almost two in the morning.
“And you’re tired.” He counters, sinking down into bed beside you. Johnny gleefully invites you into his side, his other arm sprawled out.
“A little,” With another yawn, you curl up against him, draping an arm over his midsection. “You’re so perfect.” You mumble, tone heavy with exhaustion.
“So are you,” Johnny’s also visibly sleepy, eyes heavy as he plants a lazy kiss against the top of your head. “More perfect, mm-hm. G’night, sweetheart.”
Johnny heats up his hand so he can press it below your belly button during your period!!
Yes yes yes!! God, Johnny would be the best taking care of you😩 And I actually have a fic with this premise!! Get a Johnny!
This is a bit from it:
Tired of cramps? Get a Johnny!
Johnny is crouching in front of you, holding a mug of tea he made with a special mixture Reed once created for Sue’s cramps. You shift on the couch to grab it, the movement made the blanket around you fall open, revealing the useless heating pad lying crooked on your belly. Johnny doesn’t even doubt.
"Trade me, babe" he says, taking the cold pad away before slipping his hot hand against your low belly. The relief on your face is instant, like it was the last missing piece.
“Let's keep that there, and drink this before I have to spoon feed you, because I will." He mocks seriousness, guiding the tea to your lips.
You happily take a sip, smiling against the mug. "Since when are you so bossy?"
"Since you forget to take care of yourself," his tone is teasing, but his eyes are soft, lingering until you take another sip, so you do. "Better?" he asks, half smug half relieved.
"Better," you nod, not even able to control your smile anymore. "You are...simply the best, Johnny Storm," you praise wholeheartedly, starting to forget about the pain.
"I know, I know," he rolls his eyes playfully, getting up from his crouching position without taking away his hand, before gesturing to your side. "Now, your portable heating pad's knees hurt, scoot."
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