your suit was torn in several spots, the symbolic webbing ripped open to reveal bloodied skin. the window sill of the mansion was slick, the rain doing little to help your case. thunder struck in time with your soft bang against the edge, knocking the window open. you slid inside, quietly latching the lock behind you.
lightning flashed, illuminating the room. you pried the mask off your head, hair bouncing free as you breathed deeply. your wounds ached, and you grimaced when a particularly harsh throb wracked your ribs. you leaned against the wall, grateful for the dark that encased the room.
remy was out for the night, you were certain. he’d left you a note, saying he and the guys went to a gaming hall. you’d smiled fondly at the tiny heart he left next to his name.
you stumbled into the bathroom, blood smearing along the walls and the counter. the toothbrush cup fell over, spilling onto the floor. you went down next, your shaking arms barely able to hold yourself up.
before you could even think of picking them up, lights flicked on as the floors creaked.
“chère?”
you reached for the door, throwing your limp body against it. remy’s shadow appeared from under the door, his knuckles tapping against the wood, “did i wake ya up? y’alright?”
“m’fine, remy,” you shakily spoke, biting back a wince as your fingers dipped into the wound. you felt the hard casing of the bullet. “can’t lie t’remy, mon ami. let him in, please.” your nails grazed the bullet, a quiet grunt leaving your lips at the ache.
your brows knit together when the door you rested on began to rattle. it warmed, and you quickly scooted away when you saw the purple flecks of kinetic energy swirling around the doorknob. “remy—!”
it opened.
and there he was.
dressed casually—in one of those crop tops he adored and jeans—like he didn’t bankrupt other gamblers and win every game of poker. his crimson hair was fluffy.
“where’s your coat?” you asked with a gentle frown. it was cold outside, didn’t he wear one?
“you bleedin’ on our floor ‘n askin’ about some coat?” he knelt next to you, necklaces clinking as he tore his gloves off. you watched him tug the first aid kit from the cabinet, flicking it open and getting to work. remy was uncharacteristically quiet, which worried you deeply. he hadn’t acknowledged the suit you wore, nor gloated about the sheer amount he’d won tonight.
you grimaced when the bullet clinked on the tile, feeling your enhanced regeneration tingle through your cells. “i knew,” remy spoke, resting a comforting hand on your thigh, “‘bout de…spider thing. did’ya think i wouldn’t notice?”
you looked away, silent and ashamed.
“m’not mad at ya, chère. not even a lil,” he soothed, clasping a firm hand under your jaw and guiding your face back to his, “just wish ya told remy sooner. he didn’t wanna see ya like t’is before ya told him.”
“i’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling the skin of the wound close. remy stared down at it, dual-colored eyes swirled with confusion. “i heal over time,” you explained, “gunshots take longer, usually.” he shook his head with a fond grin, as if the thought of your wounds taking longer to heal would quell his worries.
remy’s eyes were molten, swirling with sparks of purple and admiration. it was quiet, his thumb simply sweeping over your cheek as your healing tingled your cells. “how much did you win?” you asked after a while, allowing him to scoop you up and carry you to the bedroom. “i’m offended, chère. ‘course i won lots,” he smirked lazily, “wan’ somethin’? remy’ll get it for ya.”
“my suit kinda needs repairs,” you sheepishly admitted, and he laughed. “mm. dunno ‘bout supportin’ such…dangerous endeavors..” he got you comfortably in bed, joining you quickly, and tucked you close. remy was always warm. you buried your face in his chest, hiding from his blazing eyes upon your next words, “and i wanted to go shopping for a dress for emma’s event..”
“ooh, now dat—remy’s got plenty,” his lips pressed against your head, “oughta let me see ev’ryone of ‘em. touch, too. tha’s requirement. needa see if the…quality is worth de price.”
you smiled and giggled, keeping your warm face hidden from him, “required, huh? you sure it’s just to test the fabric quality?”
“guilty as charged,” he mused, dragging his fingers along your spine, “close ‘dem eyes, chère. sleep f’remy.”
you hummed softly, the ache in your bones fading as remy’s touch soothed them. outside, sirens still blared and criminals still ran rampant—but right now? you were simply remy’s.
daredevil … MATTHEW MURDOCK
you’d learned how to circle matt.
adapted to his schedules, shifted around mishaps, smiled through painful throbs of bruises—you’d perfected it.
until you seen him out.
you were perched on a balcony, fingers barely grazing the iron safety bars. it was 3am, and matt was usually asleep at this time. home from a long day of court, and tonight, he mentioned going out to drink with foggy and karen. he was home at midnight—why was he out now?
you quietly leapt across buildings, pausing every time he paused, moving when he moved. his cane tapped lightly against the concrete, the familiar clicks making your heart rate slow.
then, a hand shot from the darkness.
matt was yanked into an alley, and you launched into action. you watched as the man threw matt to the ground, and before matt could retaliate, you were there. your fist collided with the thug’s face, webs zipping! out. your foot landed on his shoulder, launching yourself and him up as you threw punch after punch and kick after kick. the webs clung to him, pinning his struggling and bruised frame against the brick wall.
your feet touched the pavement, kneeling in front of a winded matt.
“sir, sir, are you alright?”
“i knew it,” he breathed, smiling in that utterly pleased way of his. you tried to subdue your increasing heart rate, handing him his cane, “knew what?” matt’s head tilted knowingly, hands drifting forward to grip your waist.
“i’m not a fool, sweetheart. i know your heartbeat,” matt leaned up, and you had to look away from him, “it got faster. you’re nervous. i know your footsteps—your breaths.” matt pushed himself off the ground, and you slid his cane in his hand. he took a step towards you, lips still pulled into that infuriating smile of his. you tried to pull away quickly, but he caught your wrist, “i know your touch, your hands. even if they’re covered.”
“did you plan this or something?” you embarrassedly asked, keeping your eyes averted as he tugged you closer. his lips curled up further, and you groaned in disdain, “matt!”
“don’t be like that,” he cooed, “i was getting tired of you tiptoeing around it. so, i gave you a reason to tell me.” your head thumped against his chest, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. he swayed you lightly, chin propped atop your head. he smelled like warm sheets and the candle on the nightstand.
“go home, please.”
“come with me,” he countered, bringing both arms around you. his fingers traced the webbing of your suit, trailing around the spider design on your back. “i can’t,” you muttered, tensing when one of his hands dragged up your arm. his fingertips grazed along your mask, and you clasped his wrist tightly, “matt…”
“just for a minute, baby,” he whispered, “please?” you hesitated, nodding briefly. matt lifted your mask over your nose, and you felt his breath tickle your lips.
then, you felt his softness.
matt’s hands held your face, his shoulders dropping in utter bliss. you backed him into the wall, smiling into the kiss. you broke apart, foreheads resting together.
your lips parted to speak—
“hey, can you let me down please? i need to go to the doctor!”
your head jerked up, and matt laughed:
“foggy?!”
SPIDERMAN … peter parker
it was hard being new york’s third spidey.
you usually stayed under the radar, cleaning up when peter or miles couldn’t—but there was one tiny issue.
they had no idea it was you.
peter was at grad school for the majority of the day—miles surely contemplating his existence in high school—so you had opportune time to be spidey during the day. they’d tried to contact you, of course, but you’d made it a point to avoid them at all costs.
right now, you were perched on a rooftop, eyes skimming across the city as you held a large icee in your hand. you sipped casually, flinching when your comms began to ring. your fingers pressed against your ear, a soft hum leaving your lips.
“hi, honey,” you greeted, “what’s up?”
peter didn’t answer.
“peter?”
“why didn’t you tell me?”
“tell you what?” you calmly asked, keeping your voice level despite the panic creeping up your spine. peter sighed, displeased, “delmar’s pickle sub was on sale an hour ago.”
“oh,” you laughed, relieved, “i’m sorry, i didn’t know it was.” peter groaned childishly, and you vaguely heard the bustling sounds of the cafeteria. “are you with miles?”
“yeah. gonna take him to get some actual food for his final week,” you heard him call him over, and then you heard his voice, “hey, pete’s taking me to get actual food. do you wanna go?”
your lips parted to agree, but a loud screech and explosions sounded nearby. you heard the phone rustle, “what was that? baby?”
“nothing—i gotta go, have fun!”
you swiftly hung up, ignoring the way peter called you back instantly. you tugged your mask back on, tossing your empty icee cup in a trashcan as you swung to the scene. you landed atop a streetlight, frowning when you saw a group of men holding women hostage.
their massive guns waved haphazardly, and you teasingly called out, “got a license for those?”
“it’s the spider!”
“which one?!”
you catapulted yourself at them, web bombs flying from your palms. the sticky threads flawlessly coiled around them, pinning them in one webbed up cluster. “huh. that was easy,” you shrugged, walking over to the women.
“hi,” you whispered, “anyone hurt?”
they shook their heads as you gently guided them away. you flinched when a sharp pain pierced your side. you glanced down, spotting an unfamiliar object. the dart’s contents were glowing purple, and your body broke into shivers upon its dispersal into your bloodstream.
“haha! it worked!” the cluster cheered.
you shot a web, barely able to swing properly. you crash landed on a nearby roof, curling up into a ball as your body shook. you were freezing despite the boiling hot weather.
“spidey?” the voice was warbled, but you recognized the familiar red and blue suit, accompanied by the black and red one. you tried to move, to hide from him, but his hand carefully moved you on your back.
“hey, hey, what happened?”
you shook your head, fingers grazing the rooftop’s edge. you were in agony. cold, hot, boiling, freezing, shivering, paralyzed.
“you need fresh air,” miles worriedly said, his hands nearing the hem of your mask. you weakly slapped them away, and he looked at peter for guidance.
“we promise we’ll keep your secret,” peter comfortingly said, “we can help you.”
“i don’t want it,” you heaved, mustering up enough courage to toss yourself off the edge. your body freefell, but your webs missed their landing—
a hand coiled around your wrist, your body dangling against the wall. you tiredly looked up, spotting peter upside down in front of you. he was stuck to the wall, one hand next to your head as the other held you up by your wrist.
“i tried to give you openings, but i seriously can’t take it anymore,” peter reached for your mask, yanking it up and off before you could react, “baby, please. we need to get you to the hospital.”
your mind was rendered to nothing but mush.
you could only hum and grumble, and you grimaced when he swept you up. your vision went dark, all you felt was his arms.
when you woke, he was staring at you with an intensity and a sadness you hadn’t seen since aunt may.
“pete?” you tiredly whispered. he didn’t speak, his knee bouncing rapidly, “are you mad?”
“i’d be a hypocrite if i were mad,” he sighed, shifting from his seat and sitting next to you on the bed. his fingers traced along your cheek, a weak smile on his lips.
“you could’ve told me.”
you didn’t answer to that, lifting your hand to cup his. his warmth permeated the cold of your skin. you shrugged softly, and he laughed as he pressed his lips to yours. “mm. i guess i didn’t tell you either, huh?”
“no, you didn’t,” you mused, “i found out because you left your mask in—“
“you promised not to talk about that!”
wolverine … LOGAN HOWLETT
“she’s not herself—logan!” charles shouted, turning in his wheelchair in an attempt to stop him.
“i don’t give a damn,” he snarled, spinning on his heel, “she’s mine. some fish-bowl headed lunatic ain’t takin’ her from me.” ororo stood instantly, grabbing her jacket and following him out. he briefly shot her a look of gratitude and utter respect, to which she nodded once.
storm always had his back.
the jet rumbled as it zipped through the air, and its screens displayed you in the city. mysterio hovered near you, the sky dim as the people’s symbol of hope ebbed away. “get me as close as you can,” logan grumbled to scott, who didn’t respond with one of his usual remarks.
he understood the gravity of the situation.
you, the girl who swung with webs through new york city, hands outstretched to whoever needed help—a child who fell off their bike, a man kicking a vending machine that took his money, the elderly woman who needs help crossing the hectic street—you were there.
now, you were suspended midair, body lifeless as mysterio’s control seeped into your mind. citizens cried and begged, their fingertips barely able to reach you.
“ah, the x-men,” mysterio cooed, “come to save a fellow hero?”
the jet landed harshly, and logan leapt out. he stormed closer, feeling the soft breeze of ororo’s aura behind him. jean and scott joined them, their eyes blazing with rage.
“where did you take them?” scott shouted. mysterio’s arms stretched wide, “allow me to show you.”
the city faded to black.
bodies were thrown and tossed about, and logan seen you. your suit was shredded to pieces, your mask completely gone. your eyes were black, tears staining your cheeks. blood coated your skin as you stood atop a pile of bodies.
how long had you been here?
what were you seeing?
he turned around, tensing when he realized that he was the only one here. logan sprinted toward you, and your eyes jerked to him. you jumped, webs slinging out to stop him. webs cocooned him in seconds.
your fingertips dug into his face, “sick joke, mysterio. using him against me.”
“bub—“
“stop talking,” you seethed, fresh tears filling your eyes, “i will break your neck.” logan’s claws slid free, slicing through the webs and shoving you against the ground. his hand pressed against your throat—a warning. “listen to me,” his tone was firm, eyes dark with anger, “yer stuck in an illusion. he threw me in here w’you.”
“you’re—lying!” your knee dug harshly into his stomach, but he didn’t move. logan’s claws dug into the asphalt, solidifying his posture, “i ain’t lyin’, stubborn thing. it’s logan,” he stressed, eyes flicking all over your injuries, “look.”
he cautiously raised a hand, reaching for the neck of his white shirt and tugging the collar down. a thin chain with a ring looped onto it—the stupid matching rings you’d bought as a peace treaty after a big argument. you faltered in your fight, hand lifting to further pull the shirt down—
“now yer just pushin’ it.”
then he felt your fingertips brush along a scar.
one that very little knew was there.
the scar that you’d given him for moments like these, moments that needed proof and grounding. logan relaxed, leaning back and pulling you up with him. you traced the tiny X with care, and he frowned when tears filled your eyes. “c’mon, sweets. don’t cry.”
your palms roughly swiped at your eyes, your breaths growing scarce, and his hands easily found your wrists, “stop. breathe.”
you cried apologies, falling into his arms. logan sighed, standing up with you secure in his hold. he rubbed your back as he walked through the domain, ears tuned into finding his comrades.
when he reconnected with the group, ororo greeted you with a soft smile. you stayed in his arms, eyes forcefully averted from the carnage you’d unleashed in here. logan wasn’t worried about getting stuck in the domain, he knew they’d find their way out eventually.
but right now, he had you—his darling spider—in his arms, and you needed him.
HUMAN TORCH … johnny storm
you’d broken your arm in an intense fight with sandman. you remembered the sick crack, the way your forearm was angled incorrectly as you sheepishly showed it to the emergency room workers. you hadn’t been able to reset the bone, so it had begun to heal like that. the doctors, pitifully, had to re-break the bone just to fix it.
it healed a week ago.
johnny still hadn’t stopped pampering you.
he refused to “hand you over” to peter when the city called, he refused to let you do literally anything. tonight, peter had messaged you, desperate for help on an intel-related task. johnny was sleeping, and so, you’d taken the opportunity.
you quietly snuck out of the bedroom, suit zipped up and ready to go. herbie appeared at the end of the hallway, his little head tilting curiously. you knelt in front of him, gently rubbing his head, “i’ll be back soon, herbie. don’t worry.”
“johnny?” he beeped quietly.
“sleeping. if he’s up before i leave, tell him i went shopping. wait, no don’t tell him that, he’ll be upset,” you considered a proper response, sighing as you shook your head and came up empty, “just tell him i’m helping pete.”
herbie beeped, nodding. he nuzzled into your hand, and you smiled warmly. “bye, be good.”
he followed you to the balcony, watching you closely as you leapt off it. the sky was blanketed with stars as you zipped through the city, landing calmly on the appointed building. peter appeared from around the corner, waving as he landed. “hey, thanks for coming. did johnny let you go easy?”
“i didn’t wake him up,” you admitted, “didn’t feel like arguing and wasting time.” peter hummed knowingly, perching next to you and pointing at the condemned factory.
“kraven’s got stuff in there. need to know all about it.”
“easy,” you mused.
it was in fact, not easy.
you and peter breathed heavily behind cover, bullet wounds coating the two of you. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, wincing at a throb of pain. “uh-huh,” you mockingly replied, flinching when a bullet embedded the wall next to you.
you silently contemplated what to do—
you were cornered, blood dripping from nearly every part of your body. peter was in a similar shape, wounded and exhausted. you groaned, your head thumping against the wood crate, “use the signal.”
“seriously? johnny’s gonna kill us…”
“i’d rather die to him than these guys, pete. just do it.”
peter visibly accepted his fate, thumb pressing against the line of webbing that alerted the fantastic four. within seconds, your comms rang. you pressed your ear against your shoulder, too tired to raise your hands.
“that better not have anything to do with you.”
“i don’t know how to tell you this,” you laughed weakly, “but it kind of has everything to do with me.”
johnny didn’t speak, comms shutting off. peter met your masked eyes, “how bad?”
“he’s dead silent,” you solemnly said.
“shit.”
the glass erupted into shards, and you flinched when rapid gunshots fired. a bright orange glow encased the room, and you vaguely heard the soft thrumming of sue’s barrier.
loud footsteps sounded to your left, and you saw ben standing over the two of you.
“hey,” you and peter greeted casually, as if the two of you weren’t staining the floor red. johnny landed next to ben, expression utterly displeased and furious. he knelt next to you, sending a nasty stare towards peter as he scooped you up.
“i’m sorry, man!” peter shouted as johnny walked away. he didn’t say a word as he ignited into flames and shot off towards the hospital.
“stupid, stupid,” he muttered, “i’m gonna sell out everything he loves.”
“johnny—“
“you scared me, baby,” he admitted, “woke up to the signal going off, you not in my arms.”
you murmured an apology, doing your best to withstand the heat he emitted. your suit was fireproof, courtesy of reed, but some places were torn. “do you wanna know how long i’m keeping you to myself now?”
you sighed, eyes closing as you accepted the inevitable.
“how long, johnny?”
“three months.”
generous, you thought amusedly.
“you’re also prohibited from communicating with peter for a good year.”
the doctors made quick work of you, and you assured them your healing would take care of what they couldn’t quickly fix. they had other people to help, people that couldn’t self-sustain.
now, you were in bed with johnny.
he had you wrapped in his arms, tightly. “are you gonna hold me like this the whole three months?” you softly asked, tapping your fingers on his back to the rhythm of the song he’d chosen.
“if i have to. i’ll hold you in the shower, at dinnertime, while you get ready,” he listed off, eyes sparkling with mischief. you smiled, cuddling closer to him. he kissed your head, gently pulling you away so he can reach the rest of your face. he peppered kisses on your skin, pausing before he reached your lips.
his blue eyes swirled with worry and love, and you nodded.
he kissed you sweetly, embers flickering in his hair. you separated with a shy laugh, and he embraced you again.
“seriously, don’t scare me like that again. especially don’t just…leave.”
reed richards brings in an old family friend to help make sense of their new powers. johnny storm can deny that he's been trying extra hard for you to look his way all he likes. brushing his hand against yours at dinner, bumping into you outside your opposite rooms- purely accidental. but when you've got him hooked to a monitor and his heart beats double the usual, he can't hide what he feels anymore.
human torch! johnny storm x scientist fem! reader (no use of yn, johnny calls you doc)
themes: fluff, strangers to lovers, swearing, johnny being a golden retriever, flirting, YEARNING, pining (no spoilers!)
masterlist.
susan storm has never really been nervous.
she commands a different kind of respect, the air sort of shifts its way around her and she doesn't need a force field to take control. she just does- and its that unintentional aura that attracted her husband to her at the very beginning. so why was she staring at your door so damn intently.
"who's the new neighbour," johnny sneaks up behind her and she lets out a startled gasp, shooting her brother a death glare of annoyance as her hand comes to rest on her chest patting it gently, counting her heartbeats to calm her down.
"how many times have i told you not to do that," she daggers towards him and he kisses her cheek loudly, grinning as she wipes it straight off of her cheek.
"who's the new neighbour," ben joins them in an instant and johnny scoffs at the repetition, an obvious retort ready to rile him up before sue places a hand in the air in warning. he bites back his laughter instead, planning on using his ragebait later with the stony look ben sends him and swings on his feet.
"but seriously," johnny asks, "new neighbour?" and sue nods slowly.
"a family friend of reed's, she's here to help us," she explains slowly.
"help us?" he furrows his brows, "so why are you looking at the door like it's going to eat you up sis," and she elbows him, causing him to stumble back a few feet wincing in pain.
"because," she sternly reprimands, "she is important to reed, so she is important to us." and johnny lights up at the pronoun use; its simple really, johnny loves space, johnny loves women. and a slow grin spreads all over his face.
"so how come we've never heard of this hottie before," he leans his arm against your door frame as he faces his sister and friend, "reeds never mentioned a family friend?" he quizzes, suddenly curious.
"you've not even seen her-" johnny cuts ben off with a raise of his brows immediately, "um, all women are hot, next question," and when sue shoots his a warning glance
"she's reed's family! no one is to mess with her," the warning is deathly and johnny nods in submission but he can't help but feel the buzz of excitement sift through his veins, roar amongst his blood and send him stumbling backwards as your door opens.
he recovers quickly, dusting his hands off in nonchalance and leans back into the frame effortlessly. he opens his mouth to speak, but for the first time in his entire life johnny storm is stumped, stunned to the core where the words are there but they never come.
not when you're standing milimetres infront of him, sleep wrinkled across your features and the soft curves of your eyes as you slowly blink at the three gathered at your door. you stretch, and johnny observes how feline your movements seem, tensing as you try and release a knot in your shoulder blades before straightening slightly.
"hi," sue gathers herself quickly, shooting you an apologetic look as she steps forward, she wraps you into a hug and its stiff- like she isn't sure this is appropriate but any family of reed's is a family of hers and she's desperate to make a good impression on you.
"hello?" it comes out as a question, lower pitched rumbled from the sheets and its the first time johnny hears your voice. he's sure in that moment he's flown through different universes and has landed in the next life, at the gates of heaven where nothing but blinding light and you engulf him. his sister pulls back after you awkwardly pat her back and johnny clicks his knuckles, a grin painted on his face as he steps forward,
"my turn-" and he's instantly dragged back by his sister.
"sorry about him," she apologises, "he isn't usually this-"
"handsome? charming? incredibly sexy?" he supplies and sue shoves him out of your peripheral.
"i was going to say annoying," she rolls her eyes, "but i don't think that's true that's johnny and he's always annoying, and i'm-"
"sue," you finish politely, "reed has mentioned much about you," and you send her a soft tired smile, she returns it bigger and larger and you're immediately hit with all the reasons why reed fell in love with her; she's unreal.
she looks like she wants to say more, apologise for disturbing you; she just wanted to make a good first impression before they all met you properly at sunday dinner but as usual, her brother and best friend had found a way to ambush her plans. she looks over at you but you're looking intently at ben, a sense of hesitation mixed with fondness laced in those kind eyes and she sees your hand is outstretched to him.
"hi," your voice is quieter and you offer it to him, ben hides his hand behind his back. the heavy weight a stark comparison to the soft skin you're holding out and he's worried he'll hurt you. yet, you stand, unwavering and patient with the same hand extended. its moments before he lifts his own to meet yours and its hard, rough and he has half a mind to pull back but you're gripping it firmly in reassurance. "hi," he returns back with a smile and you nod.
"it's just like you're saving best for last huh," and the flash of blonde hair makes an intimate appearance in your space again. you shoot him a look of inquisition, concocted with curiosity and then hold out your hand to him as well.
johnny storm is smug as he takes in your welcome, his hand unbelievably warm against yours, he hopes you can feel the heat he purposefully sends across the sensation as it tickles your skin. and when he wraps his in yours, a perfect fit, he brings the interlock to his lips, pressing a feather like touch to your knuckles. the kiss is barely there, but it is and it sends a pool of warmth straight to your head. you feel the heat crumble down to your neck and burn a pink into your ears as you flush under his attention.
"oh boy," ben mumbles and johnny shoots you a lazy flirtatious wink and in your sleep induced haze you just stand there, unsure of what to do. the flash of ocean blue twinkles with mischief and a promise of light-hearted fun, and it wakens you a fraction more.
"and on that note," sue interrupts the stumbling of your heartbeat as it knocks against your spine, "we shall leave you, dinner in a few hours! please join us!" and she drags her brother away in an instant, but his eyes never leave yours and you know now why reed referred to him as the human torch:
johnny storm has stolen your heart and set it alight.
. . .
johnny storm has it all set up meticulously, his seat is positioned right next to yours for dinner after tirelessly arguing and ignoring the warning looks his sister sends his way. he sets them closer than the chairs on the opposite side so when you are to sit, all he has to do is lean a little and you're at his side. its a perfect plan, one he takes with great pride as he indulges with reed into a very light interrogation on you to give him some talking points for the evening.
he learns many things, for one you have a phd in bio engineering, reed was flush with praise for your intellect, groundbreaking research and the years you spent on the opposite side of the world, taking part in research studied in london. he also learns that you're a family friend of reed's by some distant cousin relationship- though the love for science and funerals of the richards bloodline have brought you together closer than ever.
he also learns that you can play the piano, you're introverted, you love the ocean and reed had promised to take you to a beach sometime soon. you don't have much family other than reed and you're favourite food is anything roasted. which is perfect given sunday's dinner is a roasted chicken with stuffed potatoes and vegetables with a side of lightly spiced rice and ben's killer cheese and potato pie.
johnny learns a few things about himself that night too. how something in him dangerously melts as he watches you murmur a thanks of appreciation to ben, at the soft look of adoration in your eyes when you watch sue and reed. how he gets weirdly protective when you don't speak unless spoken to but each and every breath that leaves your pretty lips snags his attention, causing him to silence the little conversations between his family so they can all hear what you have to say.
he finds himself wanting to talk more around- more than usual. he asks about your time in london, which you smile like it's a distant memory, he asks about your current research and how you're going to be monitoring them for your study- and johnny learns that its sly what he's doing, but when waits for you to reach over for the serving spoon, he does it too at a lightning speed.
in a milisecond, your hands touch again and johnny doesn't need to flame on to feel the heat. he does it on purpose to watch that cute blush paint your cheeks as you shrink a little inwards to yourself. he shoots you a wide grin as he pours your plate for you, murmuring a gentle "eat up" into your hair when he leans back- the breath tickling your skin in ways you cannot focus on completely.
and when he watches you and reed laugh and joke, he has no problem settling into the back, blurring into the furniture- not when he gets to watch you all night long.
. . .
he makes his first official attack when he plans to leave his room at the same time as you for breakfast, bumping into you slightly and definitely not by accident.
an apology slips from your lips and he's also blessed with a giggle as you try and dodge him, work around him to get out of his way but his movements mimic yours in a lighthearted dance of some sorts. he takes advantage, slipping his hands on your waist and positioning you in tje right direction. johnny's careful to make his movements fleeting, not lingering as long as he'd like in case you'd catch onto his ruse and sends you a soft smile before gesturing for you to leave first.
he follows you to the kitchen where he tries to make small conversation, "how'd you sleep?" he asks, hopeful.
"really well, thank you," your eyes fold into a gorgeous smile and he feels his heart race, "probably the best i have in years,"
"oh wow," he grins, "such a stellar rating, you got enough energy to get started for today then?" and you nod in excitement and he feels ten years just lift off his body, "what's the agenda for today?"
"first, i've got to just run some tests, try and get an idea of what's your new normal so it'll just be stuff like heart rate, resting energy, sleep patterns, try and focus a little more on your cellular reactions and for each of you it'll be different but we have to do start small with comparisons first so a lot of testing i guess?" you raise your eyebrows and it's the most he's heard you speak at once. he doesn't understand anything you've said, not because he doesn't understand science- its because you're just so close to him. its a sliver of milimetres if he brushes by your skin one more time, he could reach out for your hands. but he doesn't, instead he nods eagerly as he tries not to focus on how it would feel if he could just press his lips to yours.
johnny storm has never been one to wait; he's bounced from woman to woman, he's never so much as had a relationship but there's something so magnetic about you that has johnny reducing his speed, sticking to a singular lane and waiting his whole life you if he'll have to. just your smile can instill that much patience in him.
"sleep patterns," he murmurs to himself but you catch it nonetheless and send a blinding smile of pure sunshine his way, "cool," he almost stutters, his heart most definitely skipping a few beats, he wonders if you'll ever know how he sleeps fine at night, dreams of you swirling in his mind lulling him to peaceful rest.
he sits again close next to you at breakfast, trying to remember to take his eyes off of you every now and then and eat his own food. he ignores the laughter ben sends him and the hidden smiles sue keeps locked away and just chews. you must've not realised it, but you've reached for his cup instead of your own, sipping the orange juice inches away from where his mouth had been before. it's an honest mistake but johnny leans back in his chair with a smirk, that could've been a kiss. his brain sends a jolt of realisation through his body and the smirk slows into a smile.
oh god, he thinks. he's in fucking deep.
. . .
he finally gets caught.
and he didn't ever think, he'd be so literally caught too.
you have him hooked up to a monitor, just recording usual observations when you look up from your notes for a single second, send him a reassuring smile before his heart combusts and your jaw drops slack.
"oh my god," you whisper, eyebrows narrowing in confusion as you stare up at the monitor in awe.
"gotta say," he laughs awkwardly, "you're scaring me a little doc, what's going on?"
"johnny you are four times the average pulse rate, jesus," you gasp. you look at the machine in disbelief, then back st him, then at the machine and he bites back a laugh.
"doc, i am an overachiever," he excuses and leans a little bit more into the chair, relaxing as he relishes in the attention as you fuss over him. this is easy, he thinks, he doesn't even have to try to get your attention today.
and when the back of your hand comes to press against his forehead, the monitor beeps even more obnoxiously and at the contact johnny panicks- he can't have you know already how he feels for you, he's moving a little too quick and the last thing he wants to do is come on strong and scare you off. he tries breath work, one in and two out, he thinks of happy thoughts- calm thoughts- thoughts of you when he catches you half asleep and head to the kitchen for some water; a lazy cute slumbering mess. but with your palm touching him, fuck, he can't control it.
"johnny," you breathe, and he closes his eyes at the sound of his name; oh it feels like heaven and he imagines how it would sound under him in the middle of the night, how it would sound when he finally gets the chance to kiss you, how it'll sound fifty years from now when he lives forever at your side, "johnny you're on fire!" you panic but his eyes are closed into a dream of bliss- dreams of you.
"thanks, doll," he lazily smirks and you bite your lip in panic.
"that wasn't a compliment!" you rush, "you're actually on fire!" and he opens his eyes, sees the concern swim in yours and focuses real hard and deep. you've removed your hands from him at the first signs of scorching and without the closeness, it doesn't take johnny long to return to his resting state.
"fuck," he mumbles at the loss of control and you murmur in agreement, breathless at the sudden escalation. you scribble down a few notes before removing the equipment from him. it's a second where your fingers overlap and the obnoxious beeping starts all over.
he watches you pause in thought, remove your hand and record the slower rate, then watches you place your hand back ontop of his- covering a little more than the accidental touch, a lot more purposeful and the instant racing starts again.
"oh," you whisper softly and johnny tries to be light-hearted about this and laugh offhandedly, but when the embarrassment creeps in at having his crush bared open for you to see and his ears tinge a rosy pink, there's nothing casual in the way he feels about you.
"what can i say doc?" he smiles nervously, "i guess the heart races just for you," and you don't respond immediately, sort of soaking up the intensity of the atmosphere but johnny can spot the small grin sporting your lips and returns it a million times more.
"i think," he tries to get up slowly and you help him steady on your feet, "it's time to get something to eat, you gonna join me doc?" and you do.
you follow him into lazy mornings wrapped up in each other, dinner for two and days of where johnny storm makes you feel like the most important person in his life. one things for sure, those cosmic rays may have altered his dna, but he's sure that they've only just made more room in his heart, stretched out in the shape of you.
riya saying hi: hi !!! (very much longer today i apologise omg) but god i love a little flirty but patient johnny x introverted reader theres something so cute about yearning and opposites attracting, hope you guys enjoy this one- i really had fun with this! thanks a bunch love u 🥺💘
summary: he puts every touch of private life at stake
warnings: none
word count: 1.0k
now listening... mosquito by pink pantheress
a/n: i have an obsession with johnny storm as you can see...
“THE HOTTEST ISSUE EVER!”
Funny.
You smiled at the sight. There he was on the cover of the magazine, Johnny Storm, wearing a beige sweater and a pose that he wouldn’t naturally come up with in a million years. You couldn’t count how many photoshoots he’d done for the past four years as one of the most famous superheroes on Earth, but plenty of them were of this sort. Magazines with young women as target audience. You liked that, even if you were with him and had been for a while now, there was something strangely intimate about having the domestic version of the man every girl wanted.
A couple pages went by, and your brow furrowed in amusement as one of the titles in black, bold letters cited “Johnny talks from his heart”. Of course. None of those magazines let the chance fly by.
Your nose scrunched as you read the article. Some of the descriptions were vague. “My ideal date is something spontaneous. A surprise picnic or a drive with the top down.” Cute. But some others were oddly specific. A certain kind of eye color, a certain kind of hair texture. And all of them resembled yours. Even the attitude of his ideal woman sounded like yours.
A dinging sound emerged from the elevator. Speaking of the Devil. Johnny walked in wearing the leather jacket he kept stored in the back of his closet until the leaves started falling from the trees. With that laid back strut he’d made his trademark, and spinning the keys in his hand, he walked towards the kitchen. You heard HERBIE’s beeping when your boyfriend patted his head.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he greeted you, as he opened a cabinet and took out a box of cereal. “What are you up to?”
You hid your lips. You didn’t know what to think. But you couldn’t lie to him. Not while the magazine was open in your lap.
“Reading your interview,” you replied, not looking away from the pages.
He paused for a moment, glimpsing back over his shoulder to spot the said magazine in your legs. But something was off. You weren’t looking at him. Were you angry?
“Oh, yeah?” he deflected. “Yeah, they asked me a bunch of silly questions, like what kind of girl I’m into and that jazz. Same old.”
You scoffed quietly to yourself. He was just shameless. How could he try to brush this off? It was cute, though, thinking he could charm his way out of this one.
“... I was reading just that.”
Slowly, you rose from the couch and approached the kitchen aisle where he had poured the bare cereals into a bowl, holding the magazine up in front of you as if you were about to recite a Shakespearean play to him.
“My type? I like a woman who can put up a fight. Tall, gorgeous, and hair that begs to be played with. But that’s me being specific. I would like someone who won’t let me do stupid things and will take care of me.”
You finished reading and turned to him, who was mindlessly leaning against the counter and attacking the cereals like he had been starved for the past twenty years. You didn’t say anything about how that description resembled your personality. You also didn't say anything about how he was brutally pretending like you weren't there.
“At first it was okay, you know? But immediately after this, you listed physical traits that sound oddly familiar,” you said, turning the pages to look for it. You then slammed the open magazine next to his bowl of cereal so he wouldn’t play dumb. “At least to me.”
He leaned over the paper. You weren’t lying. He happened to mention hair, eye colors, height. Even accessories he liked in a girl? Jesus Christ. He might as well just said “Yeah so my ideal type is the woman I’m actually dating, who lives at Baxter by the way. And is Reed’s helper. Yeah, she’s gorgeous.”
Strangely, though, you saw him smile. You shut the magazine closed, only to spot his smile on the cover too. You looked away, a little pissed now.
“What?” He asked, facing you with an amused expression.
You crossed your arms. “Oh nothing, just you casually putting out there that we’re dating.”
His eyes widened, and so did his mischievous grin, that just begged to be slapped away sometimes.
“I mean, I didn’t know you were going to read that,” he shrugged, visibly holding back his laugh. “But come on, it’s not like everyone knows you. I was subtle… ish.”
That smile of his slowly vanished a little when you didn’t loosen up. He sighed, leaving his cereal behind and wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. You didn’t resist. Instead you just stared at him, asking silently for an explanation. Or at least, that he admitted what a stupid thing that had been.
“Are you angry?”
You paused. “No, I’m not angry, I just think it’s reckless of you, Johnny. We said we would keep it private.”
“You know me, I physically can’t play by the rules,” he said, shrugging. “Besides, it’s fun, you know? I like casually putting things out there because no one will see it coming. I’m a spontaneous guy, baby.”
“... I don’t doubt that.”
He smiled softly, one of his hands cupping your cheek and tenderly sliding down towards one side of your neck. His thumb brushed along your jaw as he gazed at you with eyes full of affection. It was cute, you thought, how smitten he looked right now.
It was pointless. You couldn’t stay mad at him.
“I’m crazy for you. Completely gone,” he mumbled, breaking the silence. “You can’t blame me for wanting to scream it to the world.”
“Are you asking me to let you make it public?”
Your question was so sudden he visibly stopped breathing for a second, before ducking his head in disappointment. You giggled.
“Damn, I thought I was winning you over,” he sighed. “I just… being with you feels so right. It’s like there would be no downsides in this, no matter if we keep it a secret or if we make it public.”
“Yeah, you keep trying, hotshot” you teased him, seeing right through his poetic declarations of love and sneaking a kiss to his cheek.
Johnny Storm who asks you to be his Valentine immediately after celebrating New Year’s with you..like, the day after. He wakes you up with a card and a small bundle of roses. “Johnny…the year just started yesterday” you’d mumble as he kisses your cheek. “Yesterday was only a few hours ago..plus, I wanted to asks sooner, but none of the stores had Valentines cards yet.”
Johnny who continues to give you the cutest cards throughout the month of January as if you would forget he was your boyfriend. Leaving one on your pillow, some on your vanity a few days later, more on your nightstand with a flower the following week—even brings some he made with Franklin.
Johnny who gifts you the cutest heart shaped chocolate boxes as well. The kind that tastes too good to eat in one sitting in a box that is far too pretty to throw away.
Johnny who plans his outfit around yours just to make sure he’s matching his girl. “What are you gonna wear when we go out-pink or red? Or are we doing something completely different?”
Johnny who gets the biggest, dumbest love struck grin when he sees you in your pink outfit for the date. He nearly drops the bouquet he brought you as he leans in to kiss you, mumbling all about how beautiful you are as he kisses all over your face.
Johnny who takes you to the diner where you two had your first real date. “Sentimental, right? Thought it could be nice…we could split a milkshake, order some pie, maybe a few slices of cake…whatever you want! …But we are going to a bakery after this, so we might have to be careful about the sweets.”
Johnny who spends far too much time in said bakery. Pointing at every heart shaped treat, over thinking which cookies to buy or what flavor cake to bring home..He ends up buying way too much-a dozen frosted sugar cookies, cupcakes, and a wedding cake tasting box just to be extra romantic. “It’ll be fun! Plus, it’s probably gonna save us some time in the future!”
Johnny who thankfully planned with Reed so he could have the house alone with you for some hours before he and Sue came home. The second he walked in after you he handed H.E.R.B.I.E. the bakery boxes and shooed him off. He barely let you take a step further, just silently lifting you, setting you on a countertop then kneeling to remove your pretty heels. “You’re my favorite person” he’d mumble, pressing his lips to your ankle. “..y’so amazing” he continued as he kisses up your shin. “I’m so in love with you-God, you make me crazy” he went on, groaning as he quickly kissed all the way up your legs and torso through your dress until he was smothering your face in those kisses. “You really are the best thing that’s happened to me. Can I show you that?”
Summary: Johnny Storm/Human Torch x fe!Reader -> You and Johnny aren't exactly friends, but there is a spark there.
Disclaimer: Brief smut mentioned throughout, fluff, he falls first, flirting and banter, dislike to lovers, annoyance to lovers, found family vibes, reader helps patch Johnny up. Not fully proof read.
“You’re an asshole!” You called out over your shoulder, watching the Idiotic Torch finally leave your lab. “I hope you know that!”
Johnny spun around on his heel as he walked towards your door. “Oh, I do. But I also know you love it.”
Then he left.
“Asshole,” you whispered under your breath.
For two years, you’d been working in the Baxter Building alongside Dr Reed Richards. And by ‘along-side’ that meant three floors below and the only other employee besides the Fantastic Four team.
Reed used to be your Professor. He’d called you up one afternoon just as you’d kicked your rain soaked heels off by the door. He wanted to show you something.
It turned out to be a new lab in his building. It was practically a wing of a castle. Huge. And the size of at least four labs.
“It’s wonderful, Dr Reed. But why are you showing it to me?”
You’d been rained on all the way from work. Your hair was still damp and the fresh socks you’d put on before you left the house were once more wet due to the large puddle just outside the building.
“Because it’s yours.” Reed had told you. “If you want it.”
It took you twenty minutes of shock and wondering if you’d actually collapsed at home. As if the entire thing had been a dream. But it wasn’t.
And you accepted it.
And you spent the last two years wondering, when you were in the presence of Sue’s baby brother Johnny, why you ever said yes.
He was in your lab constantly. Talking, staring, fiddling with things he wasn’t supposed to.
He was in it so often he had his own corner where you vowed never to place any more parts. He had a tendency to “Press the big red button”.
But, more often than not, he did make you laugh. Even when you tried your hardest not to.
Johnny felt like he’d fought so hard for that first hidden smile that had broken through on your face, he tried everything in his power to bring it back.
And it gave him a whirlwind of butterflies every time he succeeded.
“Leave her alone, dude.” Ben warned him. “Johhny. I mean it.”
Johnny shrugged as he entered the elevator. “”She loves me for it.”
“She thinks you’re an asshole.”
“Same thing in her world, Ben.”
Before Johnny could hear Ben’s reply, the doors to the elevator finally shut.
“No, it’s not, Johnny.” Ben said to no-one.
The doors opened up onto your lab and Johnny called out your name three times before he found you.
“I was calling you.”
“I know. I heard. I was hoping it was just another nightmare.”
“Aw, you know I’m the man of your dreams.”
You sighed as you stood. “Even if I had time to have a man of my dreams, I can assure you, it wouldn’t be you.”
“It’d be Ben, right? He’s more your type. Nerdy. Rocky.”
“Johhny, why are you here? Again?”
Johnny smiled, watching you keep your back to him. “Because I missed you. And I think you missed me.”
“Only when Hell freezes over.”
“Come on,” Johnny teased. “It’s just you and me. You can be honest.”
Turning around sharply, you looked at him. “I was.”
Johnny continued to smile. “Is this foreplay?”
That cracked a smile on your face. You thought you’d turned around quick enough, but you hadn’t. He’d caught it. The small upturn of your lips, the less hardened look across your gaze.
“I’m busy, Johnny. Doesn’t Reed need help or something?"
Pushing himself from the desk, he sighed. “Maybe. But I think I prefer your company more.”
“I’m working.”
Johnny stood beside you, praying to whatever God could hear him that they’d keep you looking at him, too. “So am I. Pestering you is a full time job, you know. I know you live in that head of yours.”
He touched it, briefly.
“Come on. Please. Let me stay. I’ll be good. I promise.”
After two minutes, you finally sighed. “Kill the lights. And don’t touch anything.”
With a wide smile, he flew towards the light switch and knocked it off.
“Have you got a pair of-”
The goggles were brought to his face as he turned and looked at you in the quiet light of the bulb in front of you.
“Good.”
Johnny caught you smiling again. You didn’t hide it so much in the dark. Probably because you thought he couldn’t see it.
He could.
And it was the brightest thing to him, in the world.
A light he never wanted to see dim.
Carrying out the experiment, Johnny stuck by your side throughout it all. Asking random questions, talking and going off tangents until the third round of tests failed and the bulb went dark.
“Johnny.”
But rather than flying to the generator switch, Johnny simply presented the fire from his hand as a source.
That was the first moment you didn’t stop yourself from looking at Johnny.
“I’d never leave you in the dark,” he told you. “I hope you know that.”
And across the flames of his hand, you caught the look in his eye. It was different. Not teasing, or flirting. But sincere. He truly meant it.
So, looking back at him, you graced him a small smile.
“Thank you.”
That was when something flipped.
Rather than being annoyed and telling him to flame “off” in your lab, you simply looked at him.
It was a lot easier to admire him when it felt like it was just you two in a broom closet. Barely three inches from him, in total darkness save for the flame of his hand, you admired him.
“What?”
“Nothing.” You shook your head.
He smirked a little. “Come on, I know it was something. I’m good at keeping secrets you know.”
This was a secret you wanted to keep from everyone, including yourself.
“No,” you answered before walking away into the darkness. Only, Johnny followed you.
“I’ve never seen that look on your face before.”
“What look?” You asked as you searched for a flashlight in the draw. You found it almost instantly.
“The…look.”
“What look?” You made the mistake of turning to face him across the other side of his flaming hand.
“That look,” Johnny pointed.
With an internal panic alarm, you turned and flicked on your flashlight before heading towards the hallway and stairwell. Still, Johnny followed.
“There was no look.”
He laughed. “There totally was a look. Come on, I know you think I’m an idiot-”
“I don’t think you’re an idiot.”
Johnny paused in the stairwell, as did you. The look on his face told you a thousand things.
“Okay, maybe, sometimes I think you’re an idiot,” you answered honestly before continuing down the stairs towards the mid-level generators. “But that’s besides the point. There was no look!”
“There was a look!”
Again, you turned around to look at him. This time, your mistake wasn’t looking at him but rather not opening the door behind your back beforehand.
“What look? If you’re so convinced there was a look, what was the look?”
He was so smug you wanted to slap him.
“It was almost as if you liked me.”
You blew out air between your lips and rolled your eyes. “Like I said, when hell freezes over.”
“More like when hell is on fire.” Johnny said before looking at his flaming hand. As did you – but only for a moment.
Turning back to him, the smugness still clear on his face, you reached for your escape and scurried down the hallway, still being followed.
“You can admit it, you know.” Johnny said after ten minutes.
You’d finally found the circuit breaker that had blown, but you could repair it.
“Admit what?” You asked, half annoyed at him, half annoyed at yourself.
“That you like me.”
“I don’t like you.”
“Yes, you do.” Johnny nodded. “Or else you would have told me to fuck off and kicked me out of your lab the second you knew I was in there.”
“What if I told you to fuck off now? Would you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I know you don’t really mean it. You act all grouchy and scowly, but I’ve seen you smile.”
“You’ve seen me smile?”
He nodded proudly. “You have a nice smile. You should do it more often. More people should see it.”
“And why would I want that?”
“Because you never know if it might just brighten someone’s day.” Johnny stated before quietly adding, “It brightens mine.”
From your crouched position beside the breaker, you looked up at him. The flames from his hand were enough to light the space around him. And, suddenly, you were back to feeling like you were in a broom closet rather than a large lab or breaker-room.
“I…” You didn’t know what to say. Your body was screaming at you to stand and to face him, but some small part of you was screaming to look away.
The smaller part won.
“I should, uh, I should get this fixed before Reed comes down here and catches us.”
“What are we doing?”
Slowly, Johnny crouched beside you.
“Would…would you like to be doing something?”
You looked away again but you could feel his eyes on you, studying your reaction. Finally, with a spark or two, the lights came flooding back on and you both stood up.
“Keep it in your pants, Johnny.” You told him, watching the flame go out on his hand before you walked away and back to the stairwell.
And, for a moment, you took a breather.
Your cheeks felt hot, your thighs were shaking and your mind was going to places you scolded it for going to in your sleep, nevermind during the day.
Only, as you stood in the concrete stairwell trying to catch your breath, the door opened once again.
There he was. Again.
There was no explanation for what came over you – either of you – as you stood looking at each other in the stairwell. But the longer you looked, the louder it became until finally he was touching you and you were pulling him closer.
A messy kiss and a clash of teeth led to your back landing against the wall, your hands pulling Johnny in at his hips so you could feel the full length of him pressing against you.
A wanting moan against his lips had his hands moving down your body until he lifted you enough to let your legs wrap around him.
Behind your lab coat and under your skirt, the warmth of his hand pushed higher and higher until finally a surprised but pleasant noise escaped your throat, all before you whispered his name.
“You like that?”
You nodded before leaning down to kiss him again. He only seemed to apply more and more pressure; circling, stroking, rubbing. All in a steady motion until you were contracting around his fingers and soaking his palm.
“Fuck,” you whispered, leaning into him, feeling his lips still on your pulse point.
“This can’t be a one time thing,” he said, breathless. “I won’t let you.”
You shook your head. “Keep giving me orgasms like that and it won’t be.”
Leaning into you, Johnny kissed you back ten times as hard until your pager started beeping.
Five minutes later, you walked into your lab as if nothing had ever happened.
And five minutes after you closed the door to your apartment, someone knocked on.
You had less than ten seconds to realise it was Johnny before he was kissing you again, just as hungry and as needy as he had done in the stairwell.
“I meant what I said before,” he told you as he walked you backwards into your apartment. “I hope you know that.”
“So did I,” you replied, letting him lift you up. “I hope you know that, too.”
It was a little after five in the morning when Johnny finally left your apartment. And when you met him in your lab three hours later, whilst Reed was telling you what he needed help with, you both acted like nothing had ever happened.
That act continued for four months until Johnny got hurt.
The others had watched you curse him out a billion times before, especially when he got hurt. But something about this time felt different. Like there was more to it than just you being worried about him.
It was almost like you were fearful of losing him.
For more than one reason.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was saving an innocent life.”
You scoffed as he hissed when you placed the cleaning swap to his cut. “Well, next time, you duck.”
“I did!”
“Then duck earlier,” you told him. “Jesus, what did you even get hit with? A boulder?”
“A cinder block actually.”
“What the hell is a cinder block doing in the park?”
Johnny shrugged. “They’re doing construction. One of the guys accidently dropped one.”
You grumbled, stepping closer in between his legs as you cleaned the cut.
“I’m okay,” he told you quietly.
“A couple inches over and you would have been dead.”
You could feel his hands warming the sides of your thighs. “Hey, look at me,” he told you softly.
You finally did.
“I’m okay. Even better that you’re the one patching me up.”
“Please be careful next time. And remember to-”
“Duck earlier, I know.” He smiled, and for a brief moment, you did, too.
Then he hissed when you cleaned the wound once more.
“Do you think something’s going on between them?” Reed asked his wife as he gently took his son from her arms.
“Who? Johnny and Y/n? No,” Sue replied. “He would have told me.”
Reed hummed. “Just…a hypothesis.”
Sue smiled at her husband before laying her palm against his cheek. “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” he told her before pressing a quick kiss to her lips.
A couple of hours later, you finished up with work before heading a few floors up and directly towards Johnny’s room. You knocked lightly, twice, before entering.
From his bed, he looked up at you and smiled with a tired look.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” you told him.
Holding out his arm, you hurried over before crawling in and curling up beside him.
“I am now you’re here.”
“You really scared me, today,” you admitted. “They keep playing the clip on the news and all I could think was…”
“All you could think was…what?”
Tilting your head, you looked up at him. “All I could think was that I never told you how I really feel. I’m in love with you, Johnny.”
For a brief moment, all he did was smile.
“I’m in love with you, too.”
Slowly turning, he leaned down and pressed a long kiss to your lips as he held you tighter against him.
“I hope you know that this means I’m never letting you go.”
“Oh really?”
Johnny nodded, almost proudly. “You’re gonna have to spend every day being annoyed by me. I hope you know that.”
You nodded, a relieved smile on your face. “After today, I think I can live with that.”
Johnny smiled once more before leaning closer and kissing you. Which, as usual, swiftly turned into something more heated and more needy until you were coming with his name on your lips, his cock buried inside of you and his teeth grazing the soft skin on your neck.
Characters & Pairings: Johnny Storm x X-Men/Mutant!reader
Content Warnings: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, talks of discrimination towards mutants, unintentional child death, PSTD and the Genosha Massacre from X-Men '97, talks of trauma and healing, speculation for Avengers:DD, suggestive content and contains soft!smut (p in v unprotected sex, implied F receiving oral) MDNI | sunshine!johnny x grumpy!reader, no physical descriptions or use of Y/n, | Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 13.1k (holy shit look at me back on my long fic grind--kid you not this took me a whole ass month to write.)
Premise: The story of a King whose touch turned to gold hit close to home for a member of the esteemed X-Men. Johnny Storm radiated gold from the color of his hair to the color of his supernova flames. When universes collide and the threat of a multiversal being brings three teams from across the cosmos together, Johnny learns the true meaning behind, 'The Midas Touch.'
Note: before the MCU, the Fantastic Four & Fox X-Men movies were on repeat for me and I recently watched X-Men 97 and immediately had the idea of Johnny with a mutant reader who has powers like Colossus except she turns to gold, and then remembered the story of King Midas and thought, 'This, this could be something.' Also, I'm obsessed with Marvel Rivals and think Johnny would be head over heels for a tank/vanguard hero who could easily bring him to his knees 😏😏 ALSO! I haven't written smut IN YEARS so bear with me--I tend to just do suggestive/implied sex, but this man has me attempting something I've never done before I apologize if it sucks.
additional note: this brings elements from the Fox X-Men Universe, X-Men '97 (referencing episode 5) & the comic storyline of Casandra Nova's attack on Genosha.
Also I'm keeping the damn spelling and grammatical errors in if I didn't already catch them so y'all know first hand that I WRITE ALL MY FICS WITH MY OWN TIME, ENERGY, AND IMAGINATION!! I DO NOT USE AI AND I NEVER FUCKING WILL BECAUSE GUESS WHAT, IF YOU USE AI TO GENERATE/WRITE YOUR FICS YOU'RE NOT A WRITER FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!
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On the periodic table, 79 represents the atomic number for the chemical element gold. Notable for its reddish-yellow metallic color, compared to that of silver, platinum, and titanium, gold has driven humanity through wars, trades, and alliances over history for thousands of years. Starting from the prehistoric age to modern day.
Gold also has embedded itself in myths and legends. A symbol of perfection. A token of riches. Just look at the legend of El Dorado, a city constructed purely of gold. And in some cultures, it is viewed as a sign of immortality and power.
In ancient Greece, there is a story of a King named Midas, who loved gold so much that when the God Dionysus offered a gift in reward for his generous hospitality of his foster father, Midas requested the power of making anything he touched turn to gold. At first, he was elated, however, that soon shifted to regret and disdain.
For everything he touched, including his own daughter, turned to gold.
And for a certain human mutant, member of the X-Men, and current ally of Earth-616’s Avengers, she both loved and hated the story of King Midas.
Loved because she related to the gold king and hated because she was the gold king. Literally. And it didn’t help when the media dubbed her Midas as her superhero alias following her debut in the renowned team of mutants, the X-Men. Although to many critics across the globe of her home world, calling a hero was a far cry to the reality her abilities made her out to be. If anything, she was a danger to the average human, even if not intentional.
“I wish I knew you when it happened,” Johnny’s breath fawned against her skin, warming it against the cool air as they laid in bed basking in the afterglow of recent activities. His head tucked in the space between her neck and shoulder while one of her hands carded through his hair and the other stroked the length of his shirtless back. One of his arms secured over her waist, hand settled on her hip where it fiddled with the hem of her silver silked robe. One of the many gifts from him that left her amused.
All things considered.
“I would’ve been there for you,” pausing, he pressed his lips to her shoulder. “I would’ve raised hell against those people for what they did to you.” Another kiss to her shoulder, voice dropping an octave as the emotion seeped out of him. “I hate that you went through that alone.”
Closing her eyes, she focused on the feeling of his breath on her skin, the softness of his hair against her fingers, the tense muscles of his back she worked to smooth. Willing the painful memories to remain at surface level and not consume her entire being. “Unfortunately, my experience is not uncommon for mutants in my world,” she sighed, trailing her hand to the nape of his neck as his hand gripped her hip. “People fear what they don’t understand. It’s something I’ve had to accept the hard way, but….” her voice was steady, yet carried the weight of each word. “You learn with time.”
“That doesn’t excuse their shitty behavior.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed, leaning an inch to kiss his hairline to calm him down. He always got worked up when talking about the subject. Evident by the rise in temperature on his back. “But it does explain why my kind has had to deal with those kinds of people since scientists first discovered our gene.” For anyone who knew the woman and her past, her words were a far change from the perspective she had on humanity years prior. She’d come a long way from the angered teenager and young adult who simply upheld Xavier’s dream to self-serve her safety rather than play into it on her own devices.
Who was she kidding? It was the man in her arms responsible for her new outlook on life.
Despite coming from different universes, it didn’t matter how many times they’ve had the same conversation, Johnny always felt a deep heaviness when thinking about her past. The origin of her mutation that brought her to the X-Men and eventually to him.
At age eleven, her golden touch mutant gene unveiled in an unfortunate circumstance involving a childhood bully on a school trip to a water park. The bully, a rich boy with an eye for mischief and need for torment, dragged the girl to the top of a tower the dive board was after hearing she had a fear of heights and the deep end of the massive Olympic-sized pool. Several of their classmates, his friends, egged him on and laughed at the tears streaming down her face. She thrashed and pulled against his hold as he got her to the top and maneuvered her so her back was toward the end of the board. The ten foot drop ahead leading to 20 feet deep waters below.
It all happened so fast, no one could’ve predicted that when her fear morphed to anger, and her hands gripped his shoulders, that melted gold would pour from her eye sockets, leaving no trace of her pupils and consuming her entire body until it slipped through her fingertips to spread along every inch of his skin. Until a living boy no longer stood in his place…but a golden statue frozen in time.
And when she let go of him, her pupils returned, as did the rest of her body. But he did not. Altering the life as she knew it into something she never could have imagined.
She didn’t know she’d be a mutant. No one did. Like every other mutant in existence, the gene surfaced in response to stress and trauma. All she wanted was to pry him off her. However the reality was clear as day. She’d been born with the X-Gene, granting her the ability to transform her body into pure solid gold that gave her superhuman strength and durability, in addition to turning everything she touched into the mental substance.
And in the discovery, took the life of a child.
The aftermath of what occurred that fateful spring day had been catastrophic. She became a target of media outlets across the globe. News stations broadcasted the story on repeat. Journals and newspapers ran press 24/7. Then because of the mere fact that objects she touched turned to pure solid gold, it didn’t take long for people to attempt to get their hands on the few things she managed to transform in the short time following the incident.
A big thanks to certified metallurgists for confirming the gold she produced was in fact real gold.
Clothes, her shoes. The beach towel, the bench she sat on. Hell, even the diving board the water park cut down once they removed the golden boy’s body, was sought by greedy men and auctioneers.
At lightning speed she became a liability. Her safety was threatened by those who saw her as a gold producing mine, and not the eleven year old girl carrying a trauma no other person could understand.
On top of it all, her family was ostracized--her father losing his job and mother facing scrutiny from their peers. For they did not want to be associated with someone whose child committed an unthinkable act. The family of the boy demanded justice for their son, as the young girl could not reverse the effects of her power. Screaming things like, “Send her to the Vault!” and “Our son deserved to live and not die the way he did by the hands of a mutant!!”
Mutant. They hissed and spat as though the word was cursed.
She felt cursed. Mind straying to the story of King Midas and his golden touch he came to view as a misfortune. To her, her powers fell under the same category.
The family, as well as their supporters and haters of mutants, believed the act was intentional. That she chose to turn him into gold. Disregarding that she too, was a child, and was put in a place of immense stress. They chose to ignore the detail that the boy intended to push her off the diving board into the pool despite her objections. Witnesses to the event made statements, they included the facts, but the media pushed the narrative it was her fault.
Charles Xavier knew the truth. It was why he offered to take in the young mutant when the government went undecided on what to do with her. “I believe the best possible route for her is to remain with people like her,” he told them at the congressional hearing. “What good is a young mutant just discovering their abilities, if they are not with those who can relate and be the support system to help them control it. Rest assured, my staff and I will do everything possible to make sure what happened never occurs again.”
Despite their weariness and concerns, they agreed on the condition Xavier kept them informed on her progress. And so for the remainder of her childhood, well into her teenage years and ultimately into adulthood, she remained at the X-Mansion. Learning to control her abilities with the help of Professor X, Dr. Hank McCoy, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Logan Howlett, and Ororo Munroe.
It took time, but eventually turning an object she touched into gold happened by her own will and not automatically like when her powers first emerged. In the beginning her body transforming into its golden form often happened during moments of stress and fear. Uncontrollable at first, but soon with the help of her fellow X-Men mentors—including the organic steel transforming mutant Colossus, she learned to bring forth the metal form upon her own command.
Scott, Logan, and Ororo focused her training on hand-to-hand combat on an offense approach for when it came time to be in the field. They taught her to fight. How to go by an attack and to catch the enemy off guard. “Listen, Goldilocks,” Logan would say with a cigar attached to his lips, smoke in the air, “just because you’ve got a mean swing when you go metal doesn’t mean you only rely on your fists. Anything you grab can become a wicked fastball to throw the enemy off from a distance.”
Jean and Professor X, on the other hand, prioritized her wellbeing. Using a defensive tactic, they taught her how to control her powers so they may not risk hurting innocent people. As for Hank, he used his genius mind to study her powers and report progress. Not to mention creating an entire wardrobe for her when she first moved in that wouldn’t turn to gold when she put them on. And once she got the green light from Scott and Charles, Hank designed her signature X-Men suit consisting of black and yellow with a plated red belt.
Hence, the X-Men Midas was born.
Together with her fellow mutants, Midas battled Sentinels, the Friends of Humanity, Magneto and his Brotherhood of Mutants as well as Apocalypse and his Horsemen. She narrowly survived the destruction of Genosha, lost more friends than she could count, and dealt with the repercussions of her past daily.
It’s no wonder she built a wall around her heart. Thick like a block of 24 karat gold. And why she carried a boatload of anger everywhere she went. Often complaining about humans who put their lives at risk that they have to save and get no appreciation for. Keeping her thoughts and opinions of Magneto and Charles to herself, because if she were being honest, part of her understood Magneto’s mindset.
With each passing year, and each attempt on her life, Midas felt that anger grow. She did well of masking it, but there was a reason she didn’t bother with human-mutant relations like Xavier, Scott, and Jean. Why she trusted no one other than the X-Men. Who in the universe could relate to all she went through?
Johnny Storm loved gold. Gold jewelry, gold accessories. Gold paint on walls and detailing. He was even dubbed America’s golden boy by media outlets after he and his family got their powers from their space exploration trip gone awry. Blonde hair, sun-kissed skin, flames of bright orange and yellow. He was golden.
But when the Fantastic Four raced to save Franklin from the malicious Dr. Doom, trailing him across the multiverse until they reached Earth-616, the man made of fire met his match with the woman made of gold.
He probably should’ve predicted it. After all, he did get the hots for a silver surfing alien four years prior. Least to say, the moment his eyes laid on the golden goddess before him, he was captivated.
Now, let’s be real, they say first impressions mean everything and theirs was unlike anything they could’ve imagined. Having allied themselves with the Avengers—new and old, depending on who asks--the last thing on the Fantastic Four’s mind was running into more enhanced heroes pulled into the sacred timeline. And it was all thanks to Reed’s multiversal tracking device.
“I’m picking up a signal in the East Canadian region,” he announced, “A cluster of points not far from the border. Their readings suggest,” the area between his brows pinched, “that they're not from here.” It was his glance upward to look at Sue, worry in his gaze before flickering to Sam. “Like us.”
There was no hesitation from the Captain, “Let’s go.”
The team responding to the signal consisted of Johnny, Ben, Reed, Sam, Joaquin, Yelena, Ava, and Walker. Sue stayed behind with the others, tracking Doom and stressing to pinpoint where he took Franklin.
“Two miles out,” came Ben’s voice from the cockpit, causing Johnny to look away from his tablet to glance out the window, spotting a remote location in the middle of nowhere. Appearing to be an abandoned warehouse near a lake surrounded by the woods. “Doesn’t look like much if I’m being honest. Reed, you sure this is it?”
“Positive,” the genius replied, checking the coordinates before coming up beside the rocked man. “The multiversal energy levels coming from here are staggering.”
“Well, whoever you’re picking up is obviously hiding.”
Johnny put the tablet down, leaning over Ben’s chair to see the view, resulting in his eyes to squint when he caught a dark blob in the distance. “What the hell is that?” Upon the words leaving his mouth, he felt the presence of Sam and Yelena approach beside him, the former’s gaze following Johnny’s where he ordered Ben to get closer.
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
Landing, the blob formed into the clear image of an unusual aircraft with little to no markings indicating who it might’ve belonged to. No flag, no insignia. Just sleek black metal with large engines that thinned towards the cockpit.
‘Weird,’ Johnny thought to himself as he stepped off the ramp of the Quinjet, scouting the area. What was an odd-looking jet doing in the middle of the Canadian woods? And where were the ones who put it there?
He’d find out soon enough.
The owners of the jet, in fact, were a group of multiversal travelers from another world. And where Johnny and his fellow Avengers got their powers through accidents and lab mishaps, this team of enhanced heroes were born with theirs. They were mutants.
While Johnny was occupied battling a guy with a Cajun accent and playing cards he made go boom, Reed got caught dealing with a blue teleporter and teeth sharp like vampire fangs. Then you had Sam and Joaquin fighting a man wearing a visor matching his bright blue and yellow suit. Yelena in a 1v1 with another blue individual, who nearly made her shit her pants when they shapeshifted into Natasha. Ava and Ben against, yet again, a blue man this time with fur all over his body. And finally, Walker engaged in a heated exchange with…a woman made of gold?
At first, she looked normal. And Johnny would be lying if he said he didn’t do a double take when his eyes landed on her in the 30 seconds prior to the fight breaking out. Her black and bright yellow suit, similar to her peers, caught his immediate attention. As did the red plated belt barreling a distinct ‘X’, however, his focus shifted rather quickly by the sudden battle when neither side stood down and presented immediate threats to each other. But when Johnny managed to get the upper hand over the purple suited, pole swinging man, he caught the exact moment the mystery woman’s skin transformed.
Walker swung his shield, hoping to knock her off her feet, surprised she kept up with him in the first place, only for his eyes to widen in absolute astonishment upon her bare hands gripping the edge of the shield. But when his eyes landed on said hands…they reflected against the light in a golden shine.
“What the fu…” his voice echoed, causing Johnny to snap his head in their direction, where his own eyes grew in size as he watched in real time as the metal ran up her arms, encased her neck before swallowing her visage whole. Almost in slow motion, like an intense scene from a movie, the way the gold seemed to pour out of her like liquid until it solidified, turning her into a walking statue. No trace of whites or pupils in her eyes. The color of her hair molding into a sleek shape. The only remaining untouched was her suit.
Only it didn’t end there. Once the immediate shock barely wore off, it returned tenfold when they noticed the gold continued to pour from her fingertips. Walker’s shield transforming before their eyes.
“Oh shit!” The super soldier’s shout bounced off the walls, removing his hold off the object to take several steps back and see the last bit of red and black vanish. Before he could react, however, she launched forward, grabbed a hold of his neck, lifting him off the ground and sent him flying toward the wall, causing a loud groan to escape him. He got up, ready for the next attack, but Walker dropped to his knees in a haste as she spun 360 and flung the now pure gold shield in his direction. Embedding it into the brick wall with a rumbling crack that shook the foundation of the building, causing everyone to stop what they were doing. Freezing mid-battle.
“Well that’s not something you see every day,” Joaquin panted with a wince, having met the harsh ground moments prior from dodging an optic blast.
Everything slowed down. Sam and Scott talked on behalf of their teams, as did Reed, who explained they tracked the group by the trans-dimensional energy they produced. That’s where the Avengers and Fantastic Four officially learned the name of their new guests.
“We’re the X-Men.”
“Why the X,” Johnny asked before he could stop himself, noting the distinct X on all their suits, not just hers. Just like he and his family had the large 4 splattered across their chests.
“Because we carry the X-Gene,” the man they called Beast declared. And when he caught their confusion, he added with uncertainty of how their reaction was going to go. “Our powers come from a mutation in our DNA--a mutation we’re born with. In our world, we call it the X-Gene. Hence,” a blue hand motioned at his fellow mutants. “The X-Men.”
‘Fitting,’ Johnny thought, nodding to the man. “That’s cool.” The compliment didn’t really have its effect, as he heard the light scoff from the woman as well as some pinched expressions from the rest of them.
“Cool,” she repeated with distaste, like the word physically stung her. She then lifted her gaze from the floor to land on Johnny, who tilted his head perplexed by the sudden shift in the atmosphere. “I take it neither in this world—nor yours as your friend,” she lifted a lazy finger at Reed, “has mentioned—have people like us?”
While Johnny shook his head, Sam answered along the same lines, “No, we do not.”
“So all of you,” a golden hand flickered at the crowd, specifically the ones with obvious powers as her voice rose an octave. “Got what makes you special by some flux. Freak accidents—lab experiments gone wrong—or just by the grace of some God?”
No one answered. The question itself rhetorical and able to answer itself by their expressions and shuffle of body language indicating they felt the unease flood the space. That was enough for her to scoff, louder this time, and click her tongue. Beside her the teleported, a man calling himself Kurt Wagner, gave her a knowing look.
“Wow,” she exasperated, arms crossed tight around her chest as she stood tall and guarded, clearly vexed by the silence. Though her eyes were still encapsulated by metal, it was obvious had her pupils been visible, they would’ve been narrowed into slits. “How nice you all must have it.”
What was that supposed to mean?
“Midas,” Scott scolded the woman, who’d now shifted back to her normal physique and sent a scowl, stopping Johnny from asking the question on his mind as he processed the name Scott addressed her as.
“I’m just making an observation, Scott.”
“You know exactly what you’re doing.”
“And?” she hissed, throwing her arms out in frustration. “So what if I am?”
Scott stepped closer to her, voice dropping like a stern father reprimanding his daughter. The others couldn’t hear what was said, but by the way she tensed up and glared at the man, they could only guess. As Scott stepped away, she simply huffed, crossing her arms back over her chest and pivoting so her side was facing the Avengers. Not wanting to look at them any longer.
Eventually, after much debate and deliberation from each side, the X-Men agreed to follow the Avengers and Fantastic Four to the WatchTower where they would continue the pursuit against Doom, who they linked was responsible for the mutants for dropping into Earth-616, much like the Four. It was unclear why Doom targeted the X-Men, but they were determined to find out.
Now joined together on a race against time to save Franklin Richards and the multiverse, the teams exhausted their resources from all angles. They spent time learning about each other, drawing strategy, splitting up on multiple coverts when they got a lead. Sure there were times where they butt heads--specifically Sam, Bucky, Reed, and Scott--but they worked well together. And most of them were welcoming toward one another.
Key word: most.
“So like….” Johnny shuffled on his feet, arms crossed as he stood beside Midas--ignoring Ben’s warning look--who mirrored his position, the two off to the side while the leaders of the teams paced around the middle of the lounge to discuss tactics. Except that while Johnny’s demeanor resembled his usual, suave self, she stood cold and reserved. “Is the name Midas in reference to--.”
“The King who could turn anything he touched into gold,” she cut him off with a deadpan tone while continuing to stare ahead. “Yes, it is.”
Johnny assessed her profile, giving a short nod. He didn’t compliment it, despite finding the name clever and interesting. Learning his lesson from earlier when he found the X-Men’s origin of powers cool. “And you can--.”
“Turn anything I want into gold. Including my whole body.”
“Does it feel weird when you do it?”
“Does it feel weird when you set yourself on fire?” Annoyance laced her tone, but Johnny didn’t falter.
“At first, yeah it’s sorta ticklish,” if he heard the way she breathed heavily though her nose, he chose to ignore it and continued, “Now it just feels part of me.” No response followed, but he did notice how her shoulders dropped slightly, face losing the pinched expression as though she understood the statement. “Is it like that for you?”
“Yes,” she finally said after a moment, but still refused to look at him.
There had to be some sort of irony in the fact Johnny Storm found yet another metallic woman insanely attractive that he wanted to get to know even though it was painfully obvious she wanted nothing to do with him. He wanted to melt down her cold, metal walls and discover the heart of gold she probably was hiding.
Holding back his smile, Johnny saw the shift in body language as his first step to victory. And he adjusted his own position, turning back to the scene in front of them.
If there was one thing Johnny Storm enjoyed, it was a challenge. He thrived in the adrenaline and thrill of succeeding and he saw that with Midas. ‘I’ll get through to her,’ was the final thought before he accepted his new mission. ‘I know I will.’
Hours later Johnny was walking back to his assigned room when his ears picked up on voices in the nearby corridor. Unable to ignore his curiosity, Johnny paused and headed toward the direction of the noise. Light on his feet, he pressed his back against the wall adjacent and listened closely.
“Look, I’m as clueless as you on how long this is going to last,” Scott drawled in a low voice to whoever he addressed. “It could be days, weeks, months--hell we might even be here for years. So whatever you have against them, Midas--,” Johnny stiffened at the reveal, rethinking his decision as he knew what he was doing was morally wrong, but the blonde couldn’t help himself. “You need to put it away. Otherwise you can sit this out.”
“I don’t have anything against them, Scott,” the lie fell flat that even Johnny caught it.
“And the sky is red,” Scott scoffed, “You’re fooling no one and we can’t afford to have any tension amongst ourselves with what’s to come. As far as I can see, we can trust them.”
“Did you already forget this morning?”
“That was a mutual attack on both sides. They were doing their job as protectors of this world--like us, Midas. If we were back home and the roles were reversed, we would’ve done the same.”
She huffed, clearly not impressed by the defense despite the man being right. “Forgive me for not jumping for joy at the idea of us working together. For Christ’s sake, Scott--mutants don’t exist here! How are we supposed to trust they won’t turn on us--or-or suddenly feel threatened by our existence and want us gone?”
Johnny heard the frustration combined with the underlying fear in her tone. As though the assumption was layered with experience, causing the blonde to frown. What exactly did she mean? That they’d be threatened by their existence--enough to want to betray them? In their world were super powered people not worshiped like he and his family were? From the sound of it, he suspected the reality was far from his own experience.
Suddenly it all made sense why she reacted angrily to his remark. And why the others looked uncomfortable.
“They’re not going to do that--.”
“You don’t know that, Scott!”
“It’s not sunshine and rainbows for them like you think--they’ve dealt with horrible things because of who they are and what they do.”
“I highly doubt they’ve had to fight machines built with the sole reason to exterminate them.”
The air around Johnny seemed to disappear, his breath hitching so fast he had to rush a hand to his mouth to stop the sound from escaping. His entire face consorting to absolute horror. Machines? Exterminate mutants? He couldn’t believe what he’d heard--unable to even picture what she was describing. Attempting so brought a chill down his spine, a rare feeling given his blood boiled like lava.
Barely processing the revelation, the shock continued as he listened to the conversation, thankful they had yet to discover he was there.
“Midas,” Scott’s sigh was full of tiredness, mixed with dejection. “I understand your anger, believe me, I do. You’ve gone through things not many mutants have or will ever experience. And after Genosha--.”
“Don’t,” she hissed, and Johnny picked up the tremor she held.
“You have every right to be,” Scott fought his own emotions, the memories of that fateful evening clear in his mind. “We all lost a piece of ourselves that day--some more than others.” Some meaning her. The period of darkness that swallowed her whole following the tragedy lasted months. “But this--this blame you’re unfairly putting on these people is not going to help you heal or benefit this team. I need to know that I can count on you.”
“You can,” her insistence sounded strained.
“Can I, Midas?”
There was a pause from the woman, and Johnny assumed the question was a slap in the face coming from the man she looked up to. “Scott, when have I ever let you down?” she finally found her voice, unable to hide the defeat, causing Johnny to feel a tightness in his chest. He waited with anticipation for Scott’s answer.
“You never have,” there was pride in the response, and Johnny pictured the visor wearing man offering a small smile despite their heated exchange still lingering.
“Exactly. I’ve never let you down. I didn’t with Apocalypse, I didn’t with Trask,” a slight pause before she finished, “and I didn’t after Genosha. So, I’ll do what I have to do, because our team,” the X-Men she was referring to. Johnny didn’t have to be a genius to get the implication. “Is what matters to me. I’ll put my…differences aside. But don’t expect me to be buddy-buddy and pretend we’re all best friends, alright?”
“I’m not asking you to be best friends, Midas,” Scott sighed, “But I am asking you to be civilized.”
“Fine,” she huffed like a full blown child. “I’ll be civilized. Have some fucking faith in me, Scott.” Letting out another sound that came off as a huff mixed with a grunt, Johnny heard her stomp away from Scott.
“Midas--!” He tried to stop her from leaving, but the golden mutant sped off in the opposite direction, her footsteps growing faint.
Johnny finally let out the breath he was holding, careful to muffle the sound as best he could as he processed all the information he discovered. Talk about bombshells dropped. Extermination machines? Genosha? What was Scott talking about, and why did it bring an unsettling pit to Johnny’s stomach. Part of him didn’t want to find out.
And just when he thought he could relax, he heard footsteps heading in his direction, Scott coming down the hall after failing to stop Midas. Panicked and with no way to escape without giving himself away, Johnny shuffled on his feet like a maniac and contemplated his options only to freeze when Scott turned the corner.
“Jesus,” a gloved hand clamped to his chest, heart racing with adrenaline as Johnny started to stutter, hands raised in defense and face flamed red from embarrassment and shame for getting caught red handed.
“I-I-I--.”
“Have you been there this whole time?”
Johnny swallowed thickly, offering a hesitant nod, “I promise--I didn’t intend to--I was-was heading to my room and I…overheard you two,” Johnny lowered his hands, expression apologetic as his own heart rate increased. “I’m sorry, Scott--I know it was wrong--.”
“Johnny, It’s okay,” Scott waved a hand to calm him down. “I’m not mad, you just caught me off guard.” Letting out an exhale, Scott lowered his hand and assessed the blonde. “What all did you--.”
“Enough to understand why I offended you guys early.”
“No, Johnny, you didn’t…” Scott tried to say, but gave up as the words fell flat. Clearly Johnny heard the climax of the argument between the two mutants, and there wasn’t anything Scott could say that would try to brush the tension off. So instead he followed it up with, “Midas is...I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
“Scott, I should be the one apologizing--I’m the one who eavesdropped!”
The older man let out a low chuckle, “Well, we weren’t exactly being quiet. If it wasn’t you it was going to be someone else.”
“Still it was a private conversation, I should’ve kept walking…I was just--.”
“Curious?” Scott finished for him with a knowing smirk, causing Johnny’s face to redden once more as he sent a slow nod. Not bothering to deny the accusation. “I don’t blame you. But if I’m being honest, you’re lucky it was me who caught you and not Midas.”
“I take it she’d have kicked my ass?”
“More like she’d be tempted to turn you into gold,” Scott retorted with a clap to the blonde’s back, gently pushing him to start walking down the hallway. “Something she hasn’t done to a living person in years.” The emphasis brought a chill down Johnny’s spine. Realizing the extent of Midas’ powers go beyond what he initially thought. It wasn’t just her body she had the ability to transform, as well as objects, into gold.
She could do it to humans.
Johnny had so many questions on his mind, his expression unable to mask the interest that Scott saw right through and took it upon himself to explain to Johnny the depth of he and Midas’ conversation. Filling in the holes as to why she perceived the Avengers a certain way. Scott told him about the Sentinels--the machines created by Dr. Bolivar Trask to hunt down mutants, including his chief Master Mold. How the X-Men have been fighting the Sentinels for decades as they keep reemerging despite the superheroes defeating them time and time again.
Johnny had trouble swallowing that pill, only to feel the bile rise in his throat when Scott relayed the destruction of Genosha. “And she was there when it happened?” he whispered, voice cracking at the end as the emotion was too much to contain. How was one supposed to when they hear an entire island was wiped off the planet by wild machines programmed to exterminate a species.
“Midas never agreed with the forming of Genosha,” Scott explained, leaning his arms on the railing of the balcony the two stood on. “She had her opinions and thoughts. The country already had a dark history, and then you had Magneto rallying for it to be a mutant-only nation.” He paused slightly, feeling the familiar grief pool in his stomach. “When they asked for representatives for the X-Men to attend a gala after the U.N. formally recognized Genosha, I told her to go--even though I knew she didn’t want to.”
Johnny heard the regret in his voice. The sadness, the pain. It pooled out of him like lava from a volcano.
“I was supposed to be with them, but there was another commitment at the mansion they needed me for. I…” he let out a shaky breath, swallowing thickly, “nothing could’ve prepared us for what happened that day. Midas and Kurt were part of the lucky ones.”
The Human Torch walked away with a newfound respect for the golden mutant. As well as a deep found compassion for her and her fellow X-Men. They’d gone through unimaginable events. Survived inexplicable chaos. It’s no wonder Midas is distrusting of anyone who’s not like them.
As the days drew into weeks, Johnny thought about that day on the balcony. It appeared in his mind each time he got close to Midas. Whether that be the two standing next to each other or tasked together on expeditions with their teammates. And as the two interacted more, that curiosity in Midas turned into a full-blown crush that had the once most eligible bachelor in America acting like a teenage boy wanting to impress a girl for the first time.
Holding the elevator door open when he caught her heading toward it. Taking the open seat next to her in the conference room or simply shuffling over to the corner she’d taken claim to. He’d offer to get her coffee, or volunteer to join her when she’d go to the training rooms. And unbeknownst to Midas, Johnny picked up on cues that made him fall for her even more. Like how she stared out the windows of the WatchTower to watch the citizens below, holding back a smile when she saw a school bus full of kids peering up at the building in wonder. How she’d leave the last pastry for Gambit or Sue when she likely wanted it for herself. Sarcastic remarks under her breath that left Joaquin and Shuri stifling a giggle. Or the way she picked up after people’s trash when they were too distracted to notice.
But Johnny noticed. He saw everything. The softened features. The hidden interest. The mask she bore to protect her heart.
It was painfully obvious to everyone besides Midas that Johnny Storm was smitten with her. From the, “Good morning, Midas,” every day to, “I saved you a plate of Ben’s homemade ravioli,” there was no question about his feelings. Then there was the fact whenever she addressed him by a name other than his own--which was pretty much everyday--he’d blush like a schoolboy.
Flame. Torch. Hot-Head. Supernova. Star-Boy (his personal favorite). All spoken with sarcasm, but it did nothing to deter him.
Sue and Ben clocked it from the first day when Johnny strategically maneuvered himself to stand next to her during the first debrief as a conjoined team. Scott and Hank got their suspicions from Johnny’s lingering gazes when she entered a room, plus the many questions he had regarding her. Gambit and Kurt, her closest friends, made slick comments like, “I did not know you adopted a golden retriever puppy, mon ami,” or, “Schatz, you seem to be glowing brighter than the sun lately.”
For Midas, however, the behavior Johnny exhibited left her confused. And it didn’t help that she initially found the walking fire hazard annoying. Like a bug she was unable to swat away--or a stain too stubborn to be removed. His boyish charm and sharp wit combined with his constant flirtatious remarks paired with winks told her everything she needed about what he was like in his home universe.
A playboy, with an ego the size of a supernova.
“What’s your deal, Torch?” She finally confronted him after weeks of him following her like a shadow. Continuing his pursuit despite her jabs and attempts to shake him off.
“What do you mean?” He played dumb, leaning against the wall she shoved him into after she dragged his ass out of the lounge to get away from prying ears.
“The compliments? The winks--the suave lines you keep trying to pull on me,” her eyes narrowed, practically hissing the words out. “Why are you so determined to get a rise out of me?” She didn’t miss the way his expression, once playful, softened at the accusation.
“I’m not--I’m not trying to get a rise out of you, Midas.”
“Then why does it feel like you are!”
“I--I,” he stuttered, ears pink but thankfully the flush of his neck was hidden by the turtleneck of his suit. “Look, I promise I’m not trying to be an asshole or piss you off. I just…” The confession was on the tip of his tongue. Screaming at him to cave in and tell her what he’d been feeling the past couple weeks. And with the way she was staring at him, the fire he held ignited so deep he ended up blurting out, “Go out with me,” without thinking, earning a wide-eyed, gaping reaction.
“Have you lost your damn mind?” Well that certainly wasn’t the response he usually garnished, but there was no going back now.
“Far from it actually---although when this whole multiversal excursion started I did start to think so..”
She breathed hard through her nose, eyes closing as she focused on calming her heartrate, “There--there’s no way you’re serious--.”
“Is it so hard to believe I might have feelings for you, Midas?” Johnny offered a small smile, aware it was a lot for her to process and therefore he needed to be patient with her. After all, the confession came out of left field, at least from her point of view.
“Considering I’ve done nothing remotely warm and inviting to warrant this…” she waves a dramatic hand, “Affection…yeah, I am a little surprised.” Did he really observe her cold-hearted bitch behavior and think, ‘Damn, I want that,’ or was he breathing in one too many fossil fuels from the jet engines of the Excelsior and X-Jet?
Turns out, he did want that.
“Let me prove to you I’m serious.”
“And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” her hands rested on her hips, assessing him with a raised brow.
“Go on a date with me,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which in his eyes, it was.
“Johnny, we are in the middle of tracking a madman from your universe. I don’t see how we’re supposed to put a pause on that and go on a date.”
“We don’t. We wait until we beat Doom, and then we go on a date. Until then I flirt with you and you pretend you don’t enjoy it when secretly you find me irresistible and are just too prideful to admit it.” He finished with a grin, the complete opposite to her absolute stunned expression. “Simple as that.”
“Simple?” She repeated with an exaggerated tone, like she couldn’t process what he was saying despite the words being straight forward and not embedded with riddles. “We are way past simple with everything you just said.” The fact she didn’t deny his claim of finding him irresistible was telling, but Johnny didn’t comment on it.
She was about to turn on her heel and leave him right there in the hallway when he stopped her. “Then how about this,” he gently offered, bringing her attention back to him with a light touch to her forearm. “My prediction after we defeat Doom--which we will--they’re obviously going to plan some kind of celebration to honor us for our achievement.”
He was met with a slow nod and roll of the eyes, indicating she knew where he was heading, “Your point?”
Johnny’s grin burned brighter. Teeth flashing as he mentally applauded himself for succeeding in the goal he set out weeks prior that started with an annoyed huff and eyeroll. He finally melted those golden walls.
“What do you say about being my date to our expected ‘Congrats on defeating Dr. Doom and saving the multiverse,’ celebratory gala?”
~~~~~~~~~~
The ability to breath completely vanished the moment Johnny laid eyes on Midas as she descended the spiral staircase alongside Ava, donned in a mesmerizing gold dress sparkling like a million stars in the galaxy. Tight around her chest, which was accented by the deep neckline trailing her sternum, it had long sleeves and flowed out as it went down past her knees, paired with matching heels. Her hair was styled and her makeup was simple yet elegant. Little to no jewelry save for some stud earrings and a few rings on her fingers.
“Yo, Matchstick, you good there?” Ben nudged the blonde when he suddenly stomped rambling, following his gaze to which the rocked hero uttered, “Oh.” The rest of the group the two were huddled with by the bar, Walker, Joaquin, and M’baku, all started chuckling at the lovesick expression on Johnny’s face.
“Did it suddenly get hot in here?”
“Yeah,” Walker mused, “It does feel a bit warm now that I think about it.”
“Hey, Johnny, think you can tone down the heat? I’m sweating through my suit.”
“Yeah, yeah, sure buddy,” Johnny waved off, downing the remaining of his glass before pushing it into Ben’s hand and hurrying toward the bar where she stood. Bypassing Sue and Shuri, the former giving him an odd look reading, ‘What the hell?’ which quickly shifted to understanding when she caught Midas at the bar.
“Finally,” she muttered with a pleased smile around the rim of her glass, but not before clicking in with Shuri’s, who mirrored her expression.
At the bar and unaware of the hot-headed blonde speeding toward her, Midas greeted the bartender and gave off her order, “Hendricks gin martini, extra dirty with three olives please.”
“Coming right up.”
Thanking him, she leaned her forearms onto the smooth white quartz bar top and scanned her surroundings. It was a stellar sight to behold, the WatchTower loft lounge decorated with fairy lights and chandeliers. Packed to the brim with superheroes, family members, and politicians. Everywhere she looked she saw people engaging in conversation over cocktails and finger foods. The DJ, booked by Alexei, had his own booth near the makeshift dancefloor where Gambit, Kurt, and Shang-Chi had already taken claim to.
“You know, I always gravitated toward silver,” the teasing voice brought her out of her thoughts, heart skipping a beat as she turned to be greeted with the charming smile that was Jonathan Lowell Spencer Storm. “Thought it brought out my eyes more. But I have to say…” said sapphire eyes traveled down the length of her figure unapologetically, “there’s just something so bewitching about gold when it hits the light.”
Straightening her posture as she faced him, Midas controlled her expression from showing that his words did in fact affect her. Heat flaring her body like the sun on a summer day. “Well don’t you clean up nice, Star-Boy.”
Johnny’s hand went to the collar of his suit blazer, adjusting it while never straying his gaze, “I can say the same ‘bout you, Midas. Was gold always your color before your mutation surfaced?”
“Considering I was eleven years old when it surfaced, I doubt it.”
When the bartender placed her drink down, Johnny quickly went, “Bulliet, neat my friend,” and the bartender quickly went to work, leaving the two.
“Didn’t pay you to be a bourbon guy,” she observed nonchalantly.
“What did you pay me to be?”
“On the line of a basic vodka soda,” Johnny made a sound of offense, grin widening as he thanked the bartender and accepted the glass. Her own lips curled up, eyes drawing with curiosity as she watched him lift his glass toward her and gently tapped them together. “We toasting or something?”
“Yes we are,” they both raised their drinks to take a sip, not wincing at all when the burn of the alcohol hit the back of their throats. “You owe me a date.”
“Is that so?” she mused, maintaining the intense eye contact he refused to break. “Please remind me where I agreed to that.”
“When I asked you to accompany me to this,” he motioned to their surroundings. “I initially asked that after we defeated Doom--which we have successfully done--we’d go on a proper date. I’ve kept up my promise of charming you every chance I get,” he winked, “and you’ve kept up pretending it doesn’t phase you. But let’s be real, we both know you secretly find me irresistible.” She scoffed lightly paired with a light roll of the eyes which only amused Johnny. “Am I wrong?”
Quiet for a moment as she sipped her martini, Midas pivoted on her heel to press her back against the counter of the bar. Breaking away from his gaze to glance out to the center of the gala. “I will neither agree nor disagree to that assumption, Storm.”
Johnny went to speak, but was interrupted by none other than the Cajun card master himself, cocktail in hand “well well well, looks like Rogue and I are not the only ones fashionably late to this fais do-do.”
Midas lowered her martini, letting out an amused scoff, “please, I was only ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes is enough to think you were skipping out on us tonight, mon ami. Ain’t that right, Johnny Boy?”
Johnny sipped his drink, lips curling in a smirk as he answered, “Oh I was confident our dear Midas would show.” His eyes flickered between the two, before settling on the woman. “After all, she never breaks her word.”
“No, Midas does not,” Gambit mused, proudly clapping Johnny on the shoulder. Understanding the context of Johnny’s words paired with his smug smile. “Well then, I’ll leave you two to it. Better find my other half before the Sazerac starts flowing too strong.” Raising a hand in salute, Gambit went on his way, “Laissez les bon temps rouler.”
“Bye, Remy,” Midas rolled her eyes, albeit playfully as she raised her glass back to her lips, watching him leave to find Scott and Kurt to mess with.
Downing the rest of his glass, Johnny placed it on the bar top and stepped beside her, slipping an arm around her waist. “Dance with me.” A semi-slow song began to play, the mutant recognizing it as an old favorite of hers. Before she could refuse, Johnny grabbed her martini to sit on the bar top and guided her toward the dancefloor, where he positioned them with one hand on her mid back and the other interlacing their fingers.
She rested her freehand on his shoulder, aware of the drawn gazes they gathered from their fellow teammates, some of whom sent the mutant a cheeky grin and thumbs up. She ignored it for the first couple songs, before the constant accidental eye contact between her and several of the team became overwhelming for her own good. Like they were in on a secret she didn’t know about.
“Why do I get the feeling our colleagues are getting a kick out of this?”
Johnny smirked, leading her into a soft sway in beat with the music. “Maybe because they all know I’ve been waiting for this moment for months.”
Midas looked up at him with surprise at the unexpected confession, heart skipping once more as heat boiled in her chest. “Johnny--.”
“C’mon, Midas,” his chuckle was low and laced with nerves despite his beaming smile, “I’ve been chasing after you like a kicked puppy since you gave me the glare of a lifetime the first time we met. I haven’t exactly been shy about it.” He presses his hand on her lower back to inch her closer. “Everyone knows I’m…” he paused, tongue tracing his bottom lip as heat reached his ears. “I’m head over heels for you.”
There it was. The confession he’d been holding onto for months. The one which consumed his mind and had his family wondering what the hell happened to the once most desired bachelor who had no time for romance and relationships when he had the fate of the world in his hands. Who flirted with men and women alike, but always kept interest at arms length.
That all seemed to change the moment the man of fire met the woman made of gold.
Suddenly the air became hot, and not just because Johnny was emitting a bit of heat due to the anxiety he felt as he waited for her response. Midas herself felt a bubbling volcano in her stomach that erupted along her skin until her palms started to sweat. Unable to find her voice despite her mouth parting slightly from the gasp she released.
Johnny waited, his own palms feeling clammy against the fabric of her dress and the one holding her own. For a moment they just stared at each other. The noise around them dampened, as though they were the only two in the room.
“Midas,” he coughed, full of nerves. Realizing maybe it wasn’t a good idea to admit his feelings in the middle of the damn dance floor where their teammates surrounded them, causing his blush to deepen. “I should’ve waited ti’ll after--fuck I’m sorry. I-I get it if you don’t feel the same--.” His sentence was caught off when he felt her grip on his hand tighten followed by a gentle pull, coating him to follow as she led them off the dance floor and away from prying eyes.
Johnny kept his eyes on the back of her head as they ascended the spiral staircase, only peering behind his shoulder to see if any of their friends were watching them escape the gala. Much to his relief, it appeared the only one noticing their Irish goodbye was his own sister, who caught the worried expression he wore and immediately mirrored it, but relaxed when he shook his head as if to say, “I’ll be fine, trust me.”
They reached the top of the stairs to the overlooking floor, where Midas turned a corner where she knew a private balcony resided. The noise of the party soon became background noise, completely muffled by the sliding glass doors as the cool air hit Johnny the moment he stepped onto the terrace.
She released his hand, feet carrying her to the edge of the balcony where she steadied herself on the railing, keeping her back toward him. For Johnny, all it did was intensify his nerves, fearing he ruined his chances as he took in her stiffened demeanor.
Softly, he called out her name, “Please talk to me. If you don’t feel the same, tell me and I’ll turn around and we can pretend this never happened. I won’t pressure you--or-or bother you and give you all the space. Just please, don’t shut me out.”
A moment passed and then, “It’s not that I don’t feel the same, Johnny,” she finally breathed, and Johnny felt his heart skip, eyes widening slightly. “I…” peering over her shoulder, he caught the worry pooling in her beautiful face. “I’m scared.”
“Scared of what, baby?” The pet name fell naturally as he moved closer until he was directly beside her. She turned back to the overlooking city, glittering like stars from the array of lights.
“This. Us. Me. The world,” she blinked, voice beginning to waver. “I don’t….I don’t know how to--,” the words were a struggle to find. “Since my powers triggered it’s been one fight after another. Not just against bad guys, but a battle within myself. I’ve always kept people--even my teammates--at arms length because relationships of any kind are not permanent. My own parents…” she trailed off, the painful memory lingering in the air. Still, Johnny remained quiet, heart breaking when she whispered, “I don’t know how to let someone in.”
He understood this was Midas being vulnerable, a rarity considering she’s always come off with a cold, no-nonsense exterior. Vulnerability was scary. Something she kept hidden and as a fellow superhero with expectations, Johnny related to the feeling of fear one gets when they expose themself. That doing so would only be dismissed.
“Letting someone in is scary,” he agreed, tone gentle and comforting. “But we can take it slow,” he assured. “I know our lives are fast paced and hectic, but we don’t have to be that way. I care about you, Midas, and I want you to feel comfortable. Above all else, your feelings matter to me.”
“I’m too complicated, Johnny,” she tried to argue.
“So am I,” was his rebuttal, “let’s be complicated together.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“I never said it was simple, Midas. Look at us,” he gestured with a gentle smile, “Who we are. What we do. I never thought when I got my powers that I’d be pulled into a whole different universe and meet people who I could finally relate to. I met you,” he inched closer, “and everything I once thought wasn’t possible, suddenly made sense.”
His words affected her, teetering the edge of a love confession, sending another wave of heat in her chest as her heart began to pump rapidly. As much as she didn’t want to push him away, her mind was on overdrive. The hyperindependence she accustomed herself to since childhood kicking in and overriding her heart that called out to him.
“Johnny, you have to understand that I am…” she let out a shuddered exhale, hands trembling which were soothed when he gently laid his own on top. “I am not someone who's easy to be with. I wake up at night in a panic--I-I shut down when I’m overwhelmed or I lash out--and I’ll lash out at you even when I don’t mean to.” Water brimmed her eyes, coated in a shine that was enhanced by the moonlight cascading down on them. “You got your powers by external factors out of your control,” she hated herself for going this route, but she had to get it off her chest, “and were well received. I was born this way, and have been scrutinized, discriminated against, and hunted for it. It’s shaped the way I am--it’s not all golden like your sister and Reed--or-or Gambit and Rogue. I’m consumed with rage half the time, Johnny. I am a mess,” the crack in her voice shattered Johnny. “You’d be saving yourself the difficulty and hurt you’ll get from dealing with me.”
Deal with her? That alone hurt Johnny, for he did not view his feelings toward Midas and all the walls she built for herself he wanted to guard as dealing with her. Would it be difficult? Maybe. But that’s what one does when they love someone. When they want to not break down the walls but simply hold them together as a unit. Earning their trust, guarding it. No one ever said love was easy, but when it’s with the right person, it’s as peaceful as the gentle waves of the ocean kissing the sand as it makes it to shore.
Johnny wanted to be the one to bring her to the shore whenever the waves became too much. Even when her mind acted like a riptide and pulled her out at sea. She’d been through so much, it’s no surprise to him she’d attempt to push him away when he could see the conflict pooling in her eyes.
Sensing this, Johnny took one hand in hers to pull her closer, the other cupping her cheek. His soft smile remained as his eyes filled with determination and warmth. “I’ll wake up with you to hold and remind you where you are. When you’re overwhelmed, I’ll be that calm presence. If you lash out then I’ll take it while you get it out of your system until you feel better.” Her bottom lip trembled; Johnny gently let his thumb brush over it.
“I may not understand the full extent of everything you and your family have gone through, and God I probably never will,” The cold breeze disappeared as a comforting warmth spread across the terrace. “But I know one thing for sure: I will never, ever, let anyone hurt you like that again. So long as I breathe, anyone who thinks they can treat you differently because you were born different from them, born with gifts, will be given a healthy dose of flames.” The giggle mixed with her light sniffle was a reward in itself, Johnny bringing one of her hands up to his mouth to press a soft kiss to her knuckles, causing her to shudder. “I mean it, Midas. I want this--I want you. I’ll prove it every day if I have to, just give me a chance.”
The seconds felt like a lifetime waiting for her answer. The golden mutant stared up at him with tear stained cheeks, unable to keep them contained when he let his heart speak the words he’d been waiting months for. And right when Johnny began to accept the silent rejection, his chest tightened, and warmth exploded within him from the way Midas tilted her head slightly to mold her lips to his palm still cradling her cheek.
One kiss. The two, before she withdrew and met his gaze once more. “You terrify me, Johnny Storm,” she admitted with a whisper, her breath heating his hand. “But I don’t want to hide away anymore, not when it comes to you.” Fingers trailed up his suit-cladded forearm, all the way up to his shoulder. “I want this, too,” she nuzzled against his touch, causing him to melt and hold her against him. “Just promise to be patient with me, please? I’m not as strong as I come off to be.”
The grin on Johnny’s lips could not be suppressed, beaming bright like the sun as the sheer happiness soared within his veins. “Patience is my middle name,” he teased, earning a playful scowl. His tone then turned serious, “and baby, you don’t always have to be strong around me. I want to be the shoulder you cry on, the person you lean on when things get rough.” It took everything in him not to surge forward and bring Midas into a passionate kiss, but he held himself back, opting for a light peck to her forehead. “We take this slow like I promised, okay?”
She nodded against his hand, matching his awed expression as another wave of tears pooled in her eyes. “Okay.”
Okay. It was a promise. Hope for the future. For Johnny, it was everything.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” was his only warning before he sealed his lips onto hers, the mutant accepting it wholeheartedly with a light gasp followed by a chuckle. Arms moving to wrap around his heated neck while his hands stayed splayed on her cheek and lower back.
Midas felt his smile against her lips, resulting in her own. The two remained like that on the terrace, tangled in each other's embrace while exchanging sweet, soft kisses while the rest of the world vanished around them. The party continued, several of their friends catching on to their disappearance, to which Gambit and Ben clinked their glasses together while Scott, Reed and Sue gave knowing looks.
“About damn time,” Ben smiled around the rim of his glass. “Thought Matchstick was going to cop out tonight and miss his chance all together.”
Gambit hummed, lips curling in a smirk, “Johnny Boy just needed a little push to get the ball rollin’. Not to mention the cards were in his favor,” for an added flare, the mutant spawned an Ace of Spades car from thin air. “After all,” his red irises twinkled, “Once you make contact, no one can resist the Midas Touch.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Look at me,” The demand earned him her breathless gasp, eyes peeling open to lock on his, which were filled with absolute devotion. “I’ve got you,” one hand cradled her face, brushing over the bottom of her lip as another whimper left her from the gentle rock of his hips. Johnny drew back only to press forward again, pleasure erupting from both as the temperature in the room continued to rise with their lovemaking. Praising her with the gentle words, “You’re perfect--absolutely perfect.”
Usually when Johnny awoke to Midas thrashing against the covers from the nightmare plaguing her sleep, he’d quickly pull her out and proceed to hold her in his arms until she managed to fall back into a peaceful slumber. Pressing soft kisses against her hairline while he rubbed her back, shortly falling asleep on his own accord not long after. It’s been nearly two years since they took the leap and made their relationship official, and thankfully the terrors she faced in her sleep slowly became less frequent. Almost rare.
Tonight, however, the battle raging in her mind had been too much. Sending her back in time to the destruction of Genosha that left her shaken to the core. All the bodies. All the death. Blood seeping down her temples. Her suit tarnished and torn, covered with dirt and blood. Not just her own, but that of fellow mutants she failed to save. Green light beams shooting down from the sky. Buildings up in flames. Screams. The awful, blood-curling screams of those cowering to safety only to meet their end.
She saw herself calling out to Rogue. To Gambit. Praying to whatever higher power may exist they were okay. Then everything went dark. And she lifted her head to find the silhouette of mayhem in all its metal glory. The Sentinel staring down at her as she stood frozen. Eyes completely void until they glowed brighter and brighter until the last thing she saw before she woke up was a green glow consuming her vision.
Screams filled the darkened room, abruptly waking Johnny with a gasp where he turned to see his partner fling up from the mattress and nearly fall off the edge of the bed, Johnny reaching out in a flash to grab hold of her.
“Baby! Baby, wake up--It’s okay!” He tried to calm her down as she fought against his hold. “It’s all a dream--you’re dreaming, honey--.”
“They’re all dead!” she wailed, nails biting into his forearm, before she quickly removed them. Fearing her powers would unleash to their own accord if she touched him. “They killed them--they-they-they lied to us!! And they killed them!”
Immediately Johnny understood what she was referring to, his hold tightening as he attached his lips to her temple. “Look at me, Midas,” one hand came to her jaw, gently encouraging her to turn her head even though she still thrashed to get away, preventing their skin from making contact. “Honey, focus on my voice. Listen to me--I’m right here with you. You’re home. You’re safe.”
He felt relieved when she finally opened her eyes, but it broke him to see the utter despair in them.
“They lied, Johnny.”
“I know they did, baby,” he cooed, thumb smoothing the skin of her jaw in hopes to calm her down, happy she allowed the touch.
“They promised peace to us--ev-everything was supposed to be okay…and they lied to us,” her voice was hoarse from how dried her throat became from the screaming. “There were too many of them.” The sentinels. “We couldn’t do anything--I couldn’t do anything.” Her bottom lip trembled with a sob.
Johnny’s breath fawned her cheek, blinking away his own tears that threatened to fall. “You were dreaming, baby. It wasn’t real--.”
“But it was, Johnny!” her wail cut him off and bounced off the walls, hands clutching the sheets as a means to ground herself. “It was real! It happened--an--and they knew it would happen and they did nothing. They did nothing to stop it! They let us pick up the pieces on our own--I had to bury my friends.” The last sentence trailed into a wave of sobs, impossible to keep in.
Johnny pressed her face into his chest, one hand cradling the back of her neck while murmuring sweet nothings into her ear. Lips trailing all over her hairline and cheeks, tasting salt from the tears she released. A few of his own fell, for he felt the pain she poured out and wished nothing more than to take it away.
“Hey, hey,” he shushed when her sobs turned to hiccups, coaxing her back down. “Breath with me--you’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t take some deep breaths. With me, okay? In--.” He inhaled deeply, waiting for her to follow his lead. Once she did, he exhaled, “and out.” Again, she copied.
They repeated the action a few times until her hiccups subsided, letting her breath at a normal pace. She still shivered, and Johnny was quick to light the candle on her nightstand with a flick of his finger, bringing a dim glow to the room, and returned his tight hold around her.
“There you go,” he cooed, planting a kiss on her forehead. He kept rubbing her back until she evened out, relaxing against him which in turn relaxed Johnny.
The clock ticked by, seconds turning into minutes, and Johnny looked down to find her already staring back at him in a way that caused the air to catch in the back of his throat. An intense stare, pinning him in place and sent heat down his spine for he knew what she was thinking at that moment.
“What do you need from me?” His voice lowered as the atmosphere became thick.
She reached for him, drawing him close until their breaths mingled and the heat of his skin collided with her. “Make me forget,” came her plea. “Remind me it’s all in the past and they’ll never hurt me again. Please, Johnny,” he internally groaned at the desperation in her voice, heightened by the intensity behind her eyes. “I need you.”
That was all Johnny needed to hear before he was smashing his lips to hers, maneuvering their position, “I’ll give you everything to you, baby. You don’t have to beg--I got you.”
Raising them both to their knees so he could tug away the satin nightgown off her body, laying kisses to the expanse of her throat and chest while she grasped at his t-shirt, begging him to remove it to which he did in an instant. Laying his hands on her hips, he guided her to the mattress, pressing her down so he could hover above and resume his worshiping down her body. Teasing the trim of her underwear with his mouth as down the skin of her thighs, leaving her an absolute mess.
The remaining pieces of clothes peeled away, his mouth never leaving the area she needed him most until she leapt over the edge twice before Johnny removed himself and crawled up the bed, shedding his boxers and guiding himself between her legs.
He shuddered with each trace of her hands down his back.
She gasped with every kiss he left to her pulse point.
They moved as one and everything about it was transcending. The feel of their skin on one another. The heat he produced, pouring into the open space causing sweat to coat their skin. Her moans and soft sounds, each combined with his grunts and the gentle creak of the bed. Hands gripping shoulders and hips, hard enough to leave bruises, and marks of love across their necks and collarbones.
She looked heavenly under the dim glow of the candle beside their bed. The only light in the room--save for what peaked through the windows from the moon. And Johnny swore he lost the ability to breathe when she cupped his cheeks in her hands, maintaining the eye contact he yearned for.
It sent his heart soaring. Unable to stop himself from leaning down to capture her lips in a searing kiss. Pushing his nose against hers as he swallowed her moan, thrusts never ceasing their pace. Bringing them closer to release with each pump.
“I love you,” saliva coated his mouth, leaving a glistening sheen as he pulled away, but kept his arms by her head so that he was practically cradling her. “So much. God, I can’t get enough of you.” The words left her a whimpering mess, her body reacting as well it caused his hips to falter. “You’re the love of my life, sweetheart. Never fucking forget that--you hear me? Never.”
How could she really? When he spent every living breathing moment worshiping the ground she walked on. Gazing at her like some walking Goddess sent to make him forget everything else existed until only she remained. Touching her as though she were a priceless artifact that belonged in the Louvre.
“I love you,” she panted back, breath fawning his mouth, their gazes locked with so much intensity it made them hazy. “Oh, Johnny, I love you.” Hands trailed from his cheeks to the back of his neck, keeping him held close as she could not stand having him away from her.
As they neared their end, Johnny lifted her up and onto his lap, cradling her as one hand tangled in her hair and the other wrapped around her lower back. The heat intensified, the atmosphere spellbinding and Johnny tucked his face in the crook of her neck.
She choked on the air, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt the coil unravel and that familiar smoothness of metal forming at her fingertips, causing panic to quickly rise as it always did when she felt herself starting to lose control in the middle of their lovemaking. “Jo-Johnny--.”
“I got you,” his hold tightened, keeping her pressed to him as he slowed his movements and removed his face from her neck to see the area below her eyelids beginning to turn. “Open your eyes, baby. Look at me.” The hand in her hair moved to cradle her cheek, thumb brushing the soft skin turning beneath his touch. When she finally opened them after another sound of encouragement, they were consumed by solid gold.
It spread to her cheekbones and temples, over her eyebrows and the bridge of her nose. Covering her complexion in a way that made it look like she was wearing a masquerade mask. And Johnny caught his reflection staring back at him on the smooth, shiny surface.
She was close, he felt it in the way her body began to stiffen and her breathing faltered. Rocking against the slow pace of his hips to chase it while fighting against the fear of her powers taking over. It wasn’t the first time it had happened--evident by their golden headboard that was once a deep brown oak.
And her nightstand…..
“Come back to me,” Johnny’s eyes never left hers, easing his pace as he encouraged her with a gentle voice. Her shuddered breath had him lean closer so their foreheads were touching, holding the back of her head when she tried to move away fearing she’d hurt him. “You’re right here, baby. Just relax and breathe for me.”
She leaned into his touch, welcoming it this time instead of running from it, nodding as she inhaled deeply only to let it release it and allow herself to let go of the fear and just feel. Feel his heat, his touch, his love.
The coil in her stomach rose again, fast and powerful until it consumed every inch of her body and washed over like a tidal wave, releasing a sound from her lips that bounced off every wall and sent chills up Johnny’s spine. He continued to move, eyes planted firmly on her face to drink in every sound and flash of pleasure that poured out until his own climax seeped out before he had the chance to realize it was happening. Clutching her so tight it stole the air from her throat.
“God,” he groaned her name, sweat trailing his temple as he pressed his forehead to her chest, lips barely brushing her sternum. “You did so good, baby. So good.” He kissed the area between her breasts, hands caressing her lower back until he felt her relax against him.
Together, they came down from the high and back to Earth. Panting and holding one another as though it was the only thing they knew how to do. Johnny continued to kiss along her chest, murmuring soft praises that pressed into her skin until he finally glanced up to meet her eye. Relieved to see the gold retreating, her cheeks and temples returning to their natural complexion. The color of her eyes meeting his, no longer swallowed by metal. Leaving only sweat along her glistening hairline.
“That was an intense one, huh,” Johnny smiled, hand reaching to cup her jaw. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I just traveled at light speed for the first time,” catching her breath, she swallowed the saliva that had built in the back of her throat. Fingers moving to cup the back of his neck where they softly carded through his blonde locks. “For a moment there, I thought our bed was going to match the bedframe.”
Johnny laughed, pressing a soft kiss to her jaw, “Not going to lie, I thought so too.” Adjusting her in his lap, Johnny maneuvered them so they were back laying on the mattress. He removed himself with a hiss, planting one last kiss on her forehead before going to the bathroom to retrieve a warm cloth and her silk robe. Returning to the bed, he gently cleaned her up, lips brushing her knee and thigh which earned him a giggle and helped her into her robe, tying it with a secure knot. Then he approached her dresser to grab a clean pair of underwear, which he also assisted her into before he finally slipped into a clean boxers then into the sheets on his side of the bed. Flopping half on top of her.
“You need some water?”
“No, I’m good,” she replied, adjusting herself against the mattress. Once comfortable she wrapped her arms around his naked torso, head pressing onto the soft pillow with a soft sigh as her breathing finally evened out. “Thank you.”
He pressed his mouth to her cleavage exposed by the robe. The action speaking louder than any words could. It said, ‘I’ll always be here for you,’ and “I’ll always give you what you need.”
It said, “I love you,” which he whispered into her skin, shuddering at the way her hands trailed the expanse of his back. Soft lingering touches he melted into, completely spent and full of love.
“I love you,” she whispered back, the last waves of the high coming down causing her to sigh in content, “so much it hurts.” Another kiss, one with pressure, was laid to her chest. Feeling Johnny squeeze her hip as he nuzzled his nose into the area above her collarbone.
Together they basked in the afterglow, the cool air colliding with the heat left behind. Sweat lingering on their bodies, giving them both a dewy complexing that radiated against the candlelight. And sweet touches that left them dreamy.
Johnny, like he often did when her past came back to haunt her, voiced his frustration at the people responsible. “I wish I knew you when it happened--I hate that you went through that alone.”
Midas, as she always counted, calmed him down with kisses and words of understanding. “People fear what they don’t understand. It’s something I’ve had to accept the hard way, but…you learn with time.”
“That doesn’t excuse their shitty behavior.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
Eventually, the fatigue hit. The two heroes were unable to fight it as they positioned themselves on their respective sides of the bed. Johnny extinguished the candle, sending them into darkness and Midas rested her head leveled with his chest.
Johnny brushed one last kiss to her hairline, tilting her chin up with a thumb to lay one on her lips. “I’ll be here when you wake up. Always will be.”
Her hand caught his, interlacing their fingers to bring his knuckles to her mouth, “I know.”
When the darkness settled over them and with the heat of her love blanketed over her, Midas succumbed to a dreamy slumber filled with love and happiness rather than chaos and destruction. Johnny’s laugh echoed, his smile shining behind her eyelids. Reminding her of the light she found in a universe far far away from her own.
She may have had the power to turn anything into gold, but Johnny Storm’s love truly held the Midas touch.
The Baxter Building's private hangar buzzed with pre-mission energy, the kind that made the air feel electric and charged. Reed Richards stood at the center of the chaos, his stretchy arms simultaneously holding blueprints, adjusting his goggles, and pointing at various equipment scattered across the floor. Susan Storm-Richards, his fiancée and the team's invisible force field specialist, was reviewing mission parameters on a holographic display, her blonde hair pulled back in a practical ponytail. Ben was already suited up.
And Johnny Storm?
Johnny Storm was currently being physically dragged toward the private jet by a woman who had absolutely zero patience for his theatrics.
"There's nothing colder than your shoulder when you're dragging me along like you do." Johnny whined dramatically, his feet skidding against the polished floor as you maintained your iron grip on his wrist.
"You can walk, you know." you said flatly, not even bothering to look back at him. Your voice carried that particular tone of exasperation that suggested this was far from the first time you'd had this conversation.
"Walking is for people who aren't being manhandled by a gorgeous woman with the grip strength of a vengeful goddess!" Johnny countered, though he made absolutely no effort to actually stand up straight and walk properly. No, he was committed to this bit now. His feet continued to drag, his body going limp like a petulant child being carried out of a toy store. "I'm being dragged, okay? There's a distinction. A very important legal distinction, I think. If I were walking, that would imply I have agency in this situation, and I very clearly do NOT have agency-"
"You have thirty seconds to stop being insufferable before I take away your oxygen."
Johnny's eyes widened, though his theatrical protests didn't stop. "You wouldn't! That's abuse of powers! That's—that's super-powered coercion! I'm pretty sure that violates at least three sections of the Superhuman Accords!"
You finally stopped walking, turning to fix him with a look that could have frozen Hell itself. Johnny, caught off guard by your sudden halt, nearly toppled forward before catching himself. His blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, even the Human Torch felt a chill run down his spine.
Oh, he was in trouble.
He was so, so in trouble.
And he loved every second of it.
"The Superhuman Accords," you repeated slowly, your voice dangerously calm. "are about not using powers to cause harm to civilians or property. They say absolutely nothing about using powers to shut up a colleague who is being intentionally difficult because he wants to go snowboarding instead of stopping a potential catastrophe."
"Snowboarding is important!" Johnny insisted, gesturing wildly with his free hand. "It's a vital part of my mental health regimen! The mountains call to me, baby! The fresh powder-"
"The fresh powder will still be there when we get back."
"Will it, though? Will it really? Snow melts, darling. Snow is a fickle, fleeting thing, much like my attention span, and-"
You let out a long, slow breath through your nose. The air around you shimmered slightly, responding to your irritation. Johnny felt the pressure change in the room, the subtle shift that told him you were very close to using your powers to literally throw him onto the jet.
And honestly? That would be kind of hot.
But before he could voice that particular thought (which he absolutely would have, because he had no filter and even less self-preservation instinct) you spoke again.
"What," you said, enunciating the word with painful precision. "would it take for you to just shut up and get on the god damned jet?"
The question hung in the air between them.
Johnny's brain, which operated at approximately the speed of light when it came to flirting, latched onto the opening like a lifeline.
"Hmm," he hummed, tapping his chin thoughtfully with his free hand. "What would it take? What would it take for the Human Torch to shut up and be a good little superhero?" He pretended to consider it deeply, his lips curving into that infuriatingly handsome smirk that had gotten him into and out of trouble in equal measure. "Well, I suppose… a kiss from you would do just fine."
He expected the eye roll.
He expected the dead-eyed stare that usually followed his more forward comments.
He expected a scathing retort, maybe even a light shove, and then you'd both move on with your day, him nursing his wounded pride and you pretending you weren't at least a little bit amused by his antics.
What he did NOT expect was for you to stare at him with an expression that suggested you were actively calculating the fastest way to murder him and hide the body.
The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. The air grew heavy, thick, charged with something that made the hair on Johnny's arms stand on end. He could practically see the gears turning in your head, the part of you that was always strategizing, always planning, always thinking three steps ahead.
And then-
You moved.
Your hand fisted in the front of his shirt, yanking him with a strength that surprised him. His back hit the wall with a solid thump, and before he could even process the sudden change in position, your lips were on his.
It wasn't gentle.
It wasn't soft or sweet or any of the things he'd imagined in his more… private moments.
It was fierce. Demanding. A collision of heat and power that left him breathless and dizzy.
And then he flamed on.
It was instinct, pure and simple. The surprise, the shock, the overwhelming rush of finally—it all combined into a burst of fire that erupted from his skin.
But just as quickly as the flames appeared, they vanished.
You'd already killed them, cutting off the oxygen that fed his fire with a thought, leaving him gasping and cold and so utterly wrecked that he couldn't form a single coherent thought.
And then, just like that, it was over.
You released his shirt, stepped back, and turned to continue walking toward the jet without another word.
Johnny remained pressed against the wall, chest heaving, lips still tingling, brain completely short-circuited.
"How-" he started, breathlessly, then stopped. Swallowed hard. "How rude."
His voice came out breathless, shaky, completely at odds with the words he was saying.
"To kiss me like you want it," he continued, pushing himself off the wall and stumbling after you, his legs feeling like they were made of jelly. "How rude! To just- to ambush a guy like that, and then-" He gestured vaguely at his own face, which was currently the color of a ripe tomato. "And then just WALK AWAY? Without even a 'you're welcome'? Without even a 'thanks for the performance, Johnny, your suffering has been noted and appreciated'?"
You didn't respond, didn't even slow down.
But Johnny was grinning now. A huge, impossible smirk that stretched across his face and made him look like the cat that had gotten the cream.
"But I kinda like it anyway," he said, practically skipping to catch up with you, falling into step beside you as if he hadn't just been thoroughly and completely owned. "You know that, right? I kinda really, really liked it."
He leaned in close, his voice dropping to something that was almost intimate. "I could get used to that. Actually, I think I'm already used to it. I think I need it. Daily doses of you kissing me like you want to devour my soul. That's a medical necessity, I'm pretty sure."
You finally glanced at him, one eyebrow raised in that perfect arch of judgment.
"Are you coming on the mission now, or do I need to kiss you again?"
Johnny's eyes went wide.
"WELL I MEAN IF YOU'RE OFFERING-"
"Get on the jet, Storm."
"YES MA'AM RIGHT AWAY MA'AM ABSOLUTELY MA'AM-"
He practically sprinted toward the jet, leaving you standing in the hangar with the faintest hint of a smile playing at the corners of your mouth.
The private jet that the Fantastic Four used for missions was a marvel of engineering. Reed had designed it himself, of course, and it was equipped with everything from state-of-the-art navigation systems to a fully stocked mini-bar (Johnny's suggestion, very obviously).
Ben was already seated when Johnny bounded up the steps, practically vibrating with barely contained excitement.
"Someone's in a good mood," he observed, a hint of suspicion in his tone. "Did you finally get the lady to talk to you for more than thirty seconds?" he inquired, gesturing towards where you were already seated with Susan with a titlt of his head.
"I have experienced something today that has fundamentally changed me as a person. I am not the same man who walked into this hangar. I have been transformed. Reborn. Baptized in-"
"Please, for the love of god, don't say fire."
"-in the most incredible kiss I have ever experienced in my entire life."
Ben's eyebrows shot up. "Wait, what?"
But Johnny was already moving, practically vibrating with energy as he made his way to where you were sitting, calmly reviewing mission parameters on a tablet. Susan had claimed the seat next to you, and Johnny, being Johnny, saw absolutely no reason why that should stop him from sitting wherever he wanted.
"Excuse me, excuse me, coming throouughh" he sing-songed, literally plopping himself down in the seat right next to you, wedging himself between you and the window with the grace of a golden retriever who had no concept of personal space. "Just gonna sit here, right here, with my favorite person. My absolute favorite. The best person. The most beautiful, talented, powerful-"
"Johnny," you said, not looking up from your tablet, "do you remember what I said about taking away your oxygen?"
"I remember everything you say." he said earnestly, leaning in closer. "I catalog it. I treasure it. I replay it in my head when I can't sleep at night. The way you said 'get on the jet' earlier? Perfection. Poetry. I could listen to you say 'get on the jet' for the rest of my life and die a happy man."
You finally looked up from your tablet, fixing him with that dead-eyed stare that he'd grown to… well, he wouldn't say love, exactly. That would be weird. But he'd grown to appreciate it. It was part of your charm. Like how a cactus was charming because it could pinch you.
"You're sitting on my jacket."
Johnny looked down. He was, in fact, sitting on the edge of your jacket, which had been draped over the seat next to you.
"Oh!" He scrambled to move, picking up the jacket and holding it out to you with an almost reverent expression. "My apologies. Here, let me—"
He made to hand it to you, then paused, bringing the fabric up to his nose and taking a deliberate sniff.
"Johnny." you said, your voice flat.
"Just checking," he said innocently, handing it over. "It smells nice. Like… like the air after a storm. Clean. Fresh. Powerful."
"You're insane."
"Clinically," he agreed cheerfully. "But you already knew that."
Susan watched this exchange from your other side, a hand pressed to her mouth to stifle her laughter. Ben, seated further back, had a look of complete astonishment on his face, clearly still trying to process what Mr. I'm on Fire had boeasted to him about just mere seconds earlier.
Reed was at the front of the jet, reviewing flight plans with the pilot, but even he had a small smile on his face.
The dynamic between you and Johnny was, quite frankly, one of the team's favorite forms of entertainment.
Johnny leaned over, his shoulder pressing against yours in a way that was absolutely intentional. You didn't move away, which he took as a victory. You didn't lean into him either, which he took as a challenge.
"Comfortable?" you asked dryly.
"Extremely," he said, beaming. "This is the best day of my life. And we haven't even done the mission yet."
"We haven't even taken off yet."
"Exactly! Imagine how good it's going to get!"
You shook your head, turning back to your tablet, but Johnny could have sworn he saw the corner of your mouth twitch.
He'd take it.
He'd take any sign that you were softening toward him, even if it was just the barest hint of amusement.
Because Johnny Storm was a patient man when he wanted to be. Well, not really. He was famously impatient about almost everything. But when it came to you, he could wait. He'd wait forever, if that's what it took.
I don't mind if this is gonna take a million days, he thought, watching you as you spoke quietly with Susan, a small smile on your lips as you discussed something that was clearly not mission-related. I know you'll come around to me eventually.
He just had to make sure you kept looking at him like that.
Like he was something worth smiling about.
The mission went smoothly, all things considered.
The interdimensional rift that had opened up over downtown Manhattan was quickly contained—Reed's calculations were, as usual, impeccable—and the team worked together with the kind of synchronized efficiency that came from months of training and fighting side by side.
Johnny had been… surprisingly focused.
Sure, he'd still cracked jokes and made comments that made Susan roll her eyes and Ben grumble, but there was an intensity to him that hadn't been there before. A sharpness. He moved with purpose, covered your back without being asked, and at one point, when a piece of debris came hurtling toward you from an unexpected angle, he'd flamed on and intercepted it without a second thought.
You'd given him a look then. Not your usual dead-eyed stare, but something softer. Something that made his heart do a little flip-flop in his chest.
"Thanks." you'd said, and the single word had hit him harder than any punch ever could.
If you sit back, relax, enjoy my company, he'd thought, watching you as you rejoined the team. My company.
By the time the mission was over and the rift was closed, Johnny was practically floating on cloud nine.
When you got back to The Baxter Building, it's hallways were already quiet, given the hour of arrival most of the team having retreated to their respective quarters to decompress after the mission.
Johnny, however, had other plans.
He'd been waiting for the right moment, watching you move through the common areas with that controlled grace that made his head spin. When you'd finally excused yourself and started heading toward your room, he'd seized his opportunity.
"Wait! Wait, wait, wait!"
He caught up to you in the hallway, his footsteps echoing against the polished floors. You turned, and he saw the familiar flash of exasperation in your eyes.
"Johnny, it's late. We just got back from a mission. I'm tired, I'm dirty, and I want to take a shower and go to bed."
"Just gimme a minute-" he said, and for once, there was no teasing in his voice. "Just one minute. That's all I'm asking."
You studied him for a moment, your expression unreadable. Then you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest.
"One minute."
Johnny took a breath. He'd rehearsed this a thousand times in his head, but now that the moment was here, all his carefully prepared speeches seemed to evaporate.
So he did the only thing that felt natural.
He dropped to his knees.
"What are you doing?" you demanded, your voice sharp with surprise. "Get up!"
"No!" He looked up at you, and he knew his expression was probably ridiculous—all wide eyes and desperate hope—but he didn't care. "No, I won't get up until you hear me out. I'm on my knees here, okay? Literally. I am using the saying literally, so you must hear me out. It's the law. I'm begging. I'm literally begging. I don't do this for just anyone, you know. I'm a very proud person. I have a reputation. A very carefully cultivated reputation of being cool and unbothered and-"
"Johnny-"
"Just give me a chance!"
The words burst out of him, raw and honest and completely stripped of all his usual bravado.
"I know I'm not what you probably want.." he continued, his voice dropping. "I know I'm… a lot. I'm loud and I'm annoying and I don't think before I speak. I make jokes at the worst possible moments and I can't sit still for more than five minutes and I'm pretty sure I've single-handedly given Sue at least three gray hairs."
You were staring at him now, and he couldn't read your expression at all.
"But I-" He swallowed hard. "I really, really like you. Like, I like you like you. I know that's a dumb way to say it, but it's true. And I know you don't feel the same way, not yet, but I keep hoping that if I just stick around long enough, if I just keep showing up and being annoying and making you want to kill me-"
"I do want to kill you." you said flatly.
"I know! I know, and I love that about you! That's the thing, I love everything about you. The way you roll your eyes at me. The way you threaten to take away my oxygen. The way you pretend you're not even a little bit amused by me even though I know you are, I've seen you almost smile like three times now."
Your expression flickered, just for a moment, and Johnny's heart leaped.
"So please," he said, and he'd never begged for anything in his entire life, but he was begging now. "Please, pleasepleaseplease, just give me a chance. Give us a chance. I don't need forever, I just need… I just need one date. One date, that's all. If it's terrible, if you still hate me after, I'll never bother you again. I promise. I'll get a restraining order against myself if that's what it takes. But just give me-"
"Johnny, stop."
His voice died in his throat. He looked up at you, and for the first time, he saw something other than exasperation or cold indifference in your eyes.
There was… vulnerability. Uncertainty. A flicker of something that looked almost like fear.
"Once you know what my love's gonna feel like-"
"Nothing else will feel right!" he interrupted desperately. "Nothing else will feel right, I know it will, I've known it from the first moment I saw you-"
You took a step back, shaking your head.
"You can feel like—" you tried again.
"Moonbeam ice cream, taking off your blue jeans, dancing at the movies?"
The words came out in a rush, jumbled and desperate and completely ridiculous, but he meant every single one of them.
"'Cause it feels so mystical, magical," he continued, and he knew he was rambling, knew he probably sounded like a complete idiot, but he couldn't stop. "That's how it would feel. That's how you would feel if you just let yourself-"
"I can't."
The words were like a door slamming shut.
You stepped back again, putting more distance between you, and Johnny felt his heart crack just a little bit.
"I can't." you repeated, and your voice was steady, controlled, back to the cool professional he was so used to. "I'm sorry, Johnny. But I can't."
You turned and walked away, and Johnny stayed on his knees in the hallway, watching you disappear around the corner.
But I like it anyway, he thought, pressing his hand to his chest where his heart was pounding a frantic rhythm. I like it anyway, because I think I'm getting closer to you every day. I know you'll come around to me eventually.
He knew it.
Three days later, the Baxter Building hosted a charity gala.
It was the kind of event that Johnny usually thrived at: bright lights, expensive champagne, beautiful people who wanted to rub elbows with the Fantastic Four. He was in his element, working the room with that effortless charm that made him so popular with the press.
But his eyes kept drifting to you.
You were across the room, talking to a group of diplomats who were clearly trying to recruit you for their own agendas. You handled them with practiced ease, your expression polite but distant, and Johnny watched as you gently but firmly shut down their advances without ever raising your voice.
My little hard-to-get baby, he thought, a fond smile tugging at his lips. I wanna give you the world.
He really did.
He wanted to give you everything—the moon, the stars, a thousand snowboarding trips (with you, obviously, he'd teach you how to ride, it would be so romantic), a lifetime of making you smile.
Not saying you gotta chase me, he thought, watching as you extricated yourself from the diplomats and made your way toward the balcony. But I wouldn't mind it.
He waited a few minutes, letting you have some space, before following you outside.
The balcony was quiet, the noise of the gala muffled by the thick glass doors. You were leaning against the railing, looking out at the city lights, and Johnny's breath caught in his throat.
You looked beautiful. You always looked beautiful, but there was something about this moment, the way the moonlight caught your features, that made his chest ache.
"Hey," he said softly, approaching you.
You turned, and he saw the wariness in your eyes.
"Johnny."
He stepped closer, and he knew he probably shouldn't have had those last few glasses of champagne, because his filter was definitely compromised.
"If you gave me just a little bit," he started, his voice low and earnest, "of something we can work it with—"
"No, Johnny."
The words were sharp, cutting through the night air.
But all you do is push me out, he thought as you stepped away from the railing, moving toward the doors.
"Just think about it," he called after you, his voice desperate. "That's all I'm asking. Just think about it!"
But you were already gone, the glass door sliding shut behind you.
Johnny stayed on the balcony for a long time, staring up at the stars.
"But I like it anyways.." he whispered to himself, the words a familiar refrain. "Yeah, I like it anyways."
Just a few hours later and..
"You're hopeless, you know that?"
Susan's voice was amused as she watched Johnny pace back and forth in the common room. It was the day after the gala, and Johnny had been in a state of barely contained agitation ever since.
"I'm not hopeless," he protested. "I'm determined. There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Yes! Hopeless implies that there's no hope. Determined implies that there's hope, but it's going to take work. And I'm willing to put in the work, Sue. I'll put in ALL the work. I'll put in so much work that they'll write songs about my work ethic."
Susan laughed, shaking her head. "You really are gone on her, aren't you?"
"Completely," Johnny admitted, finally stopping his pacing to look at his sister. "Totally. Utterly. I'm a lost cause, Sue. I'm a cautionary tale. I'm the poster child for 'what happens when you fall for someone way too out of your league and then keep falling despite all evidence that it's not going to work out.'"
"You're not out of her league."
"Please. You saw her at the gala last night. She was talking to diplomats and ambassadors and—and people with actual titles. And I was over there, what, trying to figure out how many champagne flutes I could stack on my head?"
"Three," Susan said dryly. "The answer is three."
"Exactly! She's a class act, Sue. She's sophisticated and smart and powerful and she doesn't need my nonsense. She doesn't need anyone's nonsense. She's like… she's like a force of nature. She's the wind itself, and I'm just some idiot who keeps getting blown around by her."
Susan's expression softened. "You really do love her, don't you?"
Johnny was quiet for a moment. Then, quietly: "Yeah. I really do."
"'Cause I think I'm getting closer to her every day," he continued, and his voice was almost wistful. "I know she'll come around to me eventually. I just have to keep trying. I have to keep showing her that I'm serious about this. That it's not just… that it's not just about wanting to get her in bed."
"We know that, Johnny."
"Do you? Because I'm not sure she does. I'm not sure she understands that this is real for me. That she's the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep. That when I'm on a mission, I'm always looking for her, making sure she's okay. That the thought of something happening to her-"
His voice cracked, and he looked away.
Susan stood up, crossing the room to put a hand on his shoulder.
"She knows, Johnny. She's not stupid. She knows how you feel about her."
"Then why won't she give me a chance?"
"Because she's scared."
Johnny blinked. "Scared? Of what?"
Susan smiled, a little sadly. "Scared of what happens if she lets herself care about someone. Scared of being vulnerable. Scared of getting hurt." She squeezed his shoulder. "You're not the only one who's been burned before, little brother."
Johnny was quiet for a long moment, processing that.
"So what do I do?" he finally asked. "How do I show her that I'm not going to hurt her? That I would never—"
"Keep doing what you're doing," Susan said simply. "Keep showing up. Keep being patient. Keep proving to her that you're in this for the long haul."
"Patience isn't exactly my strong suit."
"I know. But she's worth it, isn't she?"
Johnny thought about you—the way you smiled when you thought no one was looking. The way you sometimes softened around Susan when you thought Johnny wasn't paying attention. The way you'd kissed him in that hangar, fierce and demanding, like you'd been holding back for so long and just couldn't anymore.
"Yeah," he said softly. "She's worth it."
It happened three weeks later.
Johnny had been on his best behavior, or at least his version of best behavior. He'd toned down the flirting, replaced the more forward comments with genuine compliments and quiet moments of support. He'd started showing up early to team briefings, had stopped trying to get out of missions, and had even done his own laundry for the first time in years (he'd accidentally turned all his whites pink, but it was the thought that counted).
And slowly, ever so slowly, he'd started to see cracks in your armor.
The way you'd started to hold his gaze a little longer. The way you sometimes almost smiled at his jokes before catching yourself. The way you'd started to lean into his presence rather than pulling away from it.
So when you approached him in the training room one evening, when everyone else had gone home, Johnny's heart started pounding so hard he was sure you could hear it.
"Johnny."
"Hey," he said, trying to sound casual, like his entire world wasn't revolving around this single moment. "Hey- what's up?"
You didn't answer right away. You just stood there, looking at him, and Johnny realized with a start that you looked… nervous.
"I've been... thinking.." you finally said.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." You took a breath. "About what you said. In the hallway. About giving you a chance."
Johnny's heart stopped. Then started again, twice as fast.
"Yeah?"
"Don't make me repeat myself." you said, but there was no heat in it. "But.. I'm saying… I'm saying maybe we could try. Whatever this is. Whatever it's supposed to be." You paused, looking away. "I'm not saying I know how to do this. I'm not saying I'm going to be good at it. I don't… I don't know how to be soft. I don't know how to let people in. I've spent so long building these walls, and I don't know how to take them down, and I don't know if I even want to, because what if I take them down and you see what's underneath and you decide—"
"I won't."
The words came out fierce, desperate, and Johnny stepped forward, closing the distance between you.
"I won't," he repeated, his voice softer now. "I know you're scared. I know you think you're going to mess this up or that you're not going to be what I expect. But you don't have to be anything except yourself. That's all I want. That's all I've ever wanted."
You looked up at him, and for the first time, he saw it: all the vulnerability you'd been hiding behind your walls.
"Once you know what my love's gonna feel like-" you started.
"Nothing else will feel right," he interrupted, and this time, there was no desperation in his voice. Just certainty. "Nothing else will feel right, because I've already felt it. I've felt it every time you looked at me. Every time you rolled your eyes at me. Every time you threatened to take away my oxygen."
A ghost of a smile flickered across your face.
He reached up to cup your face in his hands, his thumb tracing along your cheekbone.
You stared at him for a long moment. Then, slowly, hesitantly, you reached up to cover his hands with your own.
"What if I'm not good at this?" you asked quietly. "What if I mess it up?"
"Then we figure it out together," he said simply. "That's what relationships are, right? Two people figuring it out together."
You were quiet for a long moment.
Then, so softly he almost didn't hear it: "Okay."
Johnny's brain short-circuited, his hand falling away from your cheek as his eyes widened in nothing sort of awe.
"Okay?" he repeated, his voice cracking on the word. "Okay as in- okay as in yes? Okay as in you'll actually give me a chance? Okay as in-"
"Don't make me say it again." you said, but you were smiling now. A real smile, the kind that made his heart feel like it was going to explode.
"YES!"
The word burst out of him, loud and triumphant, and before you could react, he was pumping his fist in the air and doing a little victory dance that was absolutely ridiculous but he couldn't help it.
"YES! YES! OH MY GOD, THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE! I'M GOING TO BE THE BEST BOYFRIEND YOU'VE EVER HAD! I'M GOING TO BE THE BEST BOYFRIEND ANYONE HAS EVER HAD! I'M GOING TO BE SO GOOD AT THIS THAT THEY'RE GOING TO WRITE BOOKS ABOUT IT!"
"Johnny—"
"I'M GOING TO PLAN THE BEST DATES! I'M GOING TO TAKE YOU TO THE BEST RESTAURANTS! I'M GOING TO—"
He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes going wide.
Oh no.
He was flaming on.
The fire erupted from his skin in a burst of excitement, and you immediately raised your hand to extinguish it—
But then you stopped.
Instead, you stepped closer, reaching out to touch his chest. The flames should have burned you, but they didn't. Because you were controlling the oxygen around his skin, creating a bubble of safe air that let you touch him without getting hurt.
"Hi." you said softly, looking up at him.
"Hi.." he breathed, staring down at you.
And then—finally, finally—you leaned in and kissed him.
It wasn't like the first time. It wasn't fierce or demanding or desperate. It was soft. Sweet. A promise of something more.
Johnny melted into the kiss, his hands coming up to cradle your face, his flames flickering with pure joy.
And when you finally pulled back, you were both smiling.
"So," you said, your voice a little breathless. "That wasn't so bad."
"Bad?" Johnny sputtered, flames finally dying on their own. "That was- that was the best kiss of my entire life! And I've had a lot of kisses, okay? I've had so many kisses, but that one—"
"Don't ruin it." you said, pressing a finger to his lips.
He kissed the tip of your finger.
And when you laughed, aactually laughed, the sound warm and genuine and so beautiful that Johnny felt his heart swell to three times its normal size, he knew.
He knew that this was it.
This was the beginning of something magical.
Something mystical.
Something that would change everything.
And as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close and feeling the steady beat of your heart against his chest, Johnny Storm thought that he had never felt anything so right in his entire life.
Because his love felt so mystical, magical.
The morning after and: "Are you two going to be insufferable now?"
Ben's voice was gruff, but there was a smile tugging at his rocky features as he watched Johnny bounce into the common room, you trailing behind him with a look of long-suffering affection.
"Insufferable?" Johnny repeated, his grin so wide it looked like it hurt. "I'm going to be so much more than insufferable, Ben. I'm going to be unbearable. I'm going to be a menace to society. I'm going to be—"
"Johnny," you said, and he immediately shut up, turning to look at you with the most adoring expression anyone had ever seen.
"Yes, darling? Yes, love of my life? Yes, beautiful, powerful, amazing—"
"Don't be a menace to society."
"I'll be whatever you want me to be," he said seriously. "I'll be a model citizen. I'll be so good that they'll give me a key to the city. I'll be—"
"Just be yourself," you said, and the words were soft. Fond. Full of something that made Johnny's heart do a happy little flip.
"Really?" he asked. "Even my annoying self? Even my loud, obnoxious, never-shuts-up self?"
"Especially that self," you said, reaching out to take his hand. "I've kind of grown attached to that self."
Johnny's face lit up like the sun.
And yes, okay, he may have flamed on again.
But this time, you didn't extinguish it.
Instead, you just smiled and kissed his cheek, letting his warmth wrap around you like a blanket.
And from across the room, Susan watched her brother finally, finally get what he'd been working so hard for, and she couldn't help but smile.
Mystical, magical, she thought, watching the two of you together. That's what this is.
In which Johnny makes the reader dinner. Things go wrong, but Johnny makes them right.
A/N: Very short, but domestic Johnny :) Enjoy!
Warnings: none
You never thought you’d have the Human Torch cooking for you in your own apartment.
And yet, there he was, wandering around your kitchen as though it were second nature.
You leaned on the counter near him, watching fondly as he talked about his family while putting together ingredients for a surprise meal.
“Sue says we have to let him cry,” Johnny said, eyes focused on the stove. “She said she’d put a lock on the outside of my door if I kept going in to comfort him at night.”
You laughed, watching as his eyes turned to you.
His mouth quirked. “Thanks for being on my side, sweetheart,” he said.
You shrugged. “I would never speak a word against your sister,” you said simply.
Johnny rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the stove.
“Besides,” you added teasingly. “Mom knows best, not uncle.”
Johnny scoffed, dropping everything and making his way over to you. “No need to insult me when I’m making you dinner, sweetheart,” he said as he placed his hands on either side of you, blocking you in.
You blushed and refused to break eye contact. “And I appreciate it,” you said simply. “Very much.”
He smirked down at you, his eyes roaming over your face until they reached your lips. “Oh yeah?” he murmured. “Do I get a token of your gratitude?”
You tilted your head, your own eyes darting down to his lips before snapping back up to his eyes.
“Maybe,” you responded, trying to keep the excitement from your voice. “What did you have in mind?”
Johnny’s eyes sparkled as he leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “How about we-”
You both jumped at the sound of the fire alarm.
You gasped when you saw the fire in the pan on the stove.
Johnny’s reaction was immediate. He wrapped his arms around your waist and gently pulled you to safety before running for the fire extinguisher.
You watched in surprise as he pulled the aimed the nozzle and squeezed the handles. It took only a moment before Johnny’s hands were lowered once more.
He turned to you. “You okay?” he asked, dropping the fire extinguisher and walking swiftly towards you.
You didn’t answer, watching him come closer with your mouth slightly open.
“Hey,” he said as he reached you. He placed on hand on your cheek and the other around your waist as if to steady you. “Hey, sweetheart, talk to me. Are you okay?”
You shut your mouth and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. But Johnny…”
“What?” he said gently, not letting you go as he searched your eyes for an answer. “What’s wrong?”
You couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up your throat. You clapped a hand over your mouth, but it was too late. He was looking at you like you were crazy.
“I’m sorry,” you said as another giggle escaped you. “It’s just…you’re the Human Torch.”
He nodded slowly, looking for all the world as though you’d lost your sanity. “Yeah. I am.”
“You used a fire extinguisher.”
You saw the concern in his eyes give way to realization.
“Couldn’t you have put out the fire on your own?” you continued, your laugh increasing.
Johnny stepped away from you, exasperation taking over his features. “Okay, you know what? I didn’t see you trying to put out the fire.”
You were laughing so hard that tears were gathering in the corners of your eyes. “I have you,” you exclaimed as you fought to catch your breath. “I shouldn’t need to grab the fire extinguisher.”
His expression didn’t change, but you could see the fondness in his gaze as he looked at you.
After a minute, you righted yourself and pouted as you looked over at him. “I’m sorry,” you said, fighting the urge to laugh again. “Thank you for putting out the fire and saving my apartment.”
Johnny nodded, a smile pulling at his lips. “You’re welcome,” he said.
You smiled back, moving forward and wrapping your arms around his neck.
“It looks like dinner might have to wait,” you said.
Johnny hummed in agreement, pulling you closer.
You lifted yourself up and pressed a light kiss to his lips. Johnny’s hands on your hips steadied you as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss.
You pulled back, blinking up at him innocently. “But you did just save my life. Maybe now I can give you a token of my gratitude.”
Johnny swept you off your feet before the last word left your lips.
You yelped, tightening your grip as he laughed and carried you to your bedroom. “Whatever my lady wants, my lady gets,” he teased.
You giggled, pressing feather light kisses to his cheek. “My hero,” you said with a laugh, right before Johnny closed your bedroom door.
~~~~~~
Your face was buried in Johnny’s chest as you slept.
He held you tightly, pressing a small kiss to your temple before releasing you slowly and standing to leave.
He had just finished getting his shirt back over his head when he heard your voice, tired and small.
“Will you stay with me?”
His heart swelled as he looked back at you. “Really?” He couldn’t hide the note of excitement in his voice.
You nodded, blinking the sleep from your eyes and reaching out a hand for him. “Really. Stay with me.”
He was all too happy to oblige.
Johnny practically tore his shirt back off before climbing back into bed with you. “Our first sleepover,” he said, giddy as a child.
He felt the vibration of your laugh as you nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck. He savored the feeling of having you close, knowing that you would still be here in the morning.
“Goodnight, Johnny,” you mumbled as sleep claimed you once more.
He smiled softly, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you against him.
