you’re not like the rest of your Super-Family. Gotham calls your name, and now? So does an annoying anti-hero you’ve managed to find yourself close to. Jason Todd.
based on this request! ◞ follow for more!
DC masterlist ◞ Jason Todd masterlist
You weren’t supposed to be in Gotham.
The Kent family had a long-standing, mostly unspoken agreement about that. Metropolis was clean lines and bright hope. Gotham was shadows and teeth. Your younger brothers—Jon with his earnest heart and Conner with his complicated edges—mostly stayed on the side of the map that made sense for Kryptonians who still believed in the symbol on their chests.
You preferred the side that didn’t.
You weren’t an anti-hero. You still pulled people out of burning buildings and stopped muggings and put the worst of the worst in the ground when the system failed too hard to fix. You just didn’t smile for cameras afterward. You didn’t give speeches. You wore black more than blue and red, and handled justice the way you handled everything else: on your own terms, with a sharp tongue and sharper fists.
Lois once said you reminded her of herself, if she’d grown up able to bench-press a truck and less inclined to file stories about it. Clark just sighed a lot and made sure you knew the farm was always open when Gotham got too heavy.
Gotham always got too heavy.
That was how you ended up in a dive bar in the Bowery at two in the morning, nursing a drink that barely did anything to your metabolism and listening to the low murmur of people who knew better than to look too closely at strangers.
He walked in like he owned the place.
Red Hood, leather jacket scuffed, that white streak in his hair catching the cheap neon. Jason Todd. You’d heard the stories from Clark and Conner. Dead Robin. Angry gunman. The one who didn’t mind making the kind of messes the others cleaned up after.
He noticed you the same moment you noticed him. Something in the air shifted.
He ordered a drink, leaned against the bar two stools down, and looked you over with open appraisal. “You’re not from around here.”
“Observant,” you said dryly. “Does the attitude and the guns come with a detective license, or is that just a hobby?”
His mouth twitched. “Cute. You got a name, or should I just call you Trouble?”
“Only if you’re feeling optimistic.”
He laughed under his breath, low and rough, and moved closer. The banter sharpened fast—two people used to being the most dangerous thing in the room testing the edges of each other. You didn’t give him your name. He didn’t give you anything real either. By the time the bartender started casting pointed looks at the clock, you’d argued about everything from the best way to clear a trafficking ring to whether hope was a useful strategy or a liability.
You left first.
He followed you out into the rain like it was inevitable.
“You’re strong,” he said, watching the way you didn’t bother pretending the weather affected you. “Stronger than you look. And you move like someone who’s used to landing on their feet from a lot higher than a fire escape.”
You tilted your head. “And you’re nosy for a guy who wears a helmet to hide his face.”
“Occupational hazard.” He stepped closer. The rain plastered his hair to his forehead. “Stay out of my territory, sweetheart. Gotham doesn’t need another idealist with powers and a savior complex.”
“Good thing I’m not an idealist,” you shot back. “And it’s not your territory just because you bleed in it.”
That was the start.
You kept crossing paths.
A weapons deal in the Diamond District. A hostage situation in the Narrows. A corrupt official who needed a different kind of pressure than the Bats preferred. Every time, the two of you ended up on the same rooftop or the same street, arguing about methods while the actual problem waited.
Jason thought you were reckless. You thought he was a hypocrite with a death wish and too many guns.
“You can’t just drop a guy off a building and call it justice,” you snapped one night, hauling a trafficker up by the collar after Jason had dangled him a little too convincingly.
“Worked, didn’t it?” he shot back. “Your way takes three weeks of paperwork and a prayer. Mine takes five minutes and a warning they actually remember.”
“You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“Already did that once. Didn’t take.”
The tension between you was a live wire. You hated how much you noticed the way he moved. He hated how much he noticed the way you smiled when you were about to do something deeply inadvisable.
Then the case came that neither of you could handle alone.
A new player in Gotham was experimenting with something that messed with powered people—dampeners, control devices, the kind of tech that made your skin crawl and made Jason’s trigger finger itch. The Bats were stretched thin. The Titans were elsewhere. It was just the two of you, a shared enemy, and a city that didn’t care if you liked each other.
You worked together because you had to.
It was messy.
You saved his life twice in one night and he still called you a “flying girl scout with daddy issues.” He took a bullet meant for a civilian and you still told him his contingency plans were “paranoid bullshit designed by a man who never learned how to ask for help.”
You bled on the same rooftops. Shared the same terrible coffee from the same all-night diner. Argued until your voices went hoarse and then fell into charged silence that felt worse than the yelling.
Somewhere in the middle of it, the anger started changing shape.
You noticed the way his hands shook after a close call. He noticed the way you went quiet when the mission brushed too close to the kind of loss you didn’t talk about. You started leaving medical supplies in places you knew he’d find them. He started texting you warnings about neighborhoods that had gone hot overnight.
“This doesn’t mean I like you,” you told him after he’d dragged you out of a collapsing safehouse, both of you coughing and soot-streaked.
“Wouldn’t dream of assuming,” he answered, and then pressed you against the brick wall of an alley and kissed you like he’d been thinking about it for weeks.
It was angry and desperate and tasted like smoke. You kissed him back harder.
After that, everything got more complicated.
You still argued. You still threw sharp words like knives. But now the arguments ended with teeth on skin and hands fisted in clothing and the kind of sex that felt like another form of combat. It was toxic in the way that burned hot and bright—two people who didn’t know how to be soft without first being sharp. You pushed each other’s buttons on purpose. He baited you. You baited him back. And underneath all of it was something neither of you were ready to name.
“You’re going to get tired of this,” you said one night, sitting on the edge of his safehouse cot while you cleaned a cut on his arm with more care than ever showed.
Jason glanced up, green eyes unreadable. “Of what? The most infuriating woman I’ve ever met showing up in my city and making everything harder?”
“Yeah. That.”
You finished with the bandage, then tugged you forward by the wrist until you were close enough that his forehead could rest against yours.
“Maybe,” he said quietly. “But not today.”
You stayed in Gotham longer than you meant to.
Clark called. Lois called. Jon sent worried reels. Conner just sent a single message that said Don’t do anything dumber than usual and then left you alone. You ignored most of them. Gotham had its claws in you, and so did the man who met you at every rooftop with a sarcastic greeting and a look that said he’d been waiting.
The case ended the way things in Gotham usually did—messy, loud, and with more damage than anyone wanted. You and Jason stood over the wreckage together, both of you exhausted, both of you still standing.
“You could leave,” he said. Not quite a question.
“I could.”
“You won’t.”
You looked at him—the white streak, the scars, the mouth that had said a hundred cruel things and a few true ones—and felt the familiar pull of something reckless and inevitable.
“You’re the worst idea I’ve ever had,” you told him.
Jason’s smile was slow and sharp and almost soft. “Takes one to know one.”
You kissed him there in the ruins, tasting blood and victory and the promise of every argument still to come. It wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t simple. It was the two of you—Kryptonian rebellion and Lazarus pit rage—choosing the friction because the alternative was walking away.
And neither of you had ever been good at walking away.
Later, when the sun started to rise over a city that still didn’t deserve either of you, Jason nudged your shoulder with his.
“Stay,” he said. Not a demand. Not quite a plea.
You looked out at Gotham, then back at him.
“For now,” you answered.
It was as close to a promise as either of you knew how to make.
And for the two of you, it was enough.
a/n: j love and hate this fic pls give me some love chat x
Dudes, this whole writing thing is hard. I’ve been trying to work on something and I never am satisfied with my work. Ugh.
I’m also trying to catch up on Campaign 4. I’m currently on Episode 30 and have been warned that this episode is a rollercoaster. It’s always episode 30-something where shit hits the fan in CR campaigns lmao
Dudes, this whole writing thing is hard. I’ve been trying to work on something and I never am satisfied with my work. Ugh.
I’m also trying to catch up on Campaign 4. I’m currently on Episode 30 and have been warned that this episode is a rollercoaster. It’s always episode 30-something where shit hits the fan in CR campaigns lmao
Summary: The fall of House Davinos, House Royce, and Occtis Tachonis
A/N: Hello! This isn’t related to my previous Occtis x reader story and takes place Episode 4. Not my best writing but I’ve been itching to write a Davinos!reader. Julien has been growing on me and I wanted to explore the reader’s sibling relationship with him while crushing hard on Occtis. Not proofread. Took some dialogue straight from the episode.
“Occtis, No!!” Were the last words Occtis heard before his last breath left him. Your scream is full of anguish and echo throughout the entirety of Palazzo Davinos. You hear your brother, Julien, call your name from somewhere else in the building, worried that you were slain. You barely register anything other than Occtis’ body on the table and the blood rushing in your ears.
There’s another scream, one full of rage. You think it was yours. You don’t even remember breaking out of the ghoul’s grasp and charging at Ethrand, blade out. You do remember the yelp of pain he made as you manage to slash him deep, twice, sending his blood spraying across your face.
He throws a spell at you, sending you flying into the wall, hitting your head, hard. Then everything goes to black.
—————————
You wake up on a soft surface, sitting up quickly with a gasp, immediately looking around for Occtis. A hand touches your shoulder and you look up to see Julien staring down at you with a worried, mournful expression.
“Occtis. Where is he? Is he okay? I-I saw him-“ you choke out, Julien squeezing your shoulder to ground you, kneeling next to you.
“He’s gone. So is father and most of House Royce and Davinos.” He tells you. A strangled noise leaves your throat and hot tears streaming down your face before you can stop them. Julien wraps his arms around you in a hug, holding you close as you cry into his shoulder. This all has to be a bad dream, right?
You manage to steel yourself, pulling away from Julien and wiping your tears away.
“Is Aranessa okay?” You ask, voice hoarse. Julien nods and you sigh in relief at least someone survived. Julien helps you up and takes you to the others. Aranessa, Thaisha, and the newcomer Vaelus, all surround Occtis’ body, his head resting in Thaisha’s lap as she protects his body like a mother bear. You feel your heart break once more. It seems his wounds have been healed, most likely by Thaisha.
You start to walk towards him, steps hesitant. You could’ve saved him. The others look up to you and you see the looks of sympathy on Aranessa and Thaisha’s face, but you ignore them. You kneel next to Occtis’ body, raising a shaky hand to move some stray hair out of his face. You hear more people enter but don’t look.
Thaisha gently steps away to give you a moment with Occtis’ body and talk to whoever came in. You hear Hal’s name mentioned. Your eyes don’t leave Occtis’ face until Aranessa pulls you out of your head.
“Bolaire and Murray need to take a look at him. He has something in his chest.” Aranessa says softly. You don’t resist and let her pull you away, sagging into her side.
You have to close your eyes when Bolaire and Murray open Occtis’s chest, the familiar wet and horrible sound of flesh tearing fills your ears.
You only open them when Murray says they removed a stone. You see his body reopened, organs exposed. It makes you recoil.
Suddenly, the ground starts to shake and there’s a powerful energy in the air before Occtis’ eyes snap open and he sits up, trying to catch his breath.
“What happened?” He asks, unsure as he looks around, just in time to see you running at him, tackling him in a hug, burying your face in his neck. You don’t care that the blood from his open wound is getting all over you. You just care that he’s here.
“You’re alive? How?” Your voice is confused but relieved. He’s surprised by the hug but quickly reciprocates it.
“I…don’t know.” He admits. You feel rustling from him and pull back just in time to see Pincushion’s head pop out from the wound in Occtis’ midsection. He jumps out, wagging his tail and yipping happily like he didn’t just crawl out of Occtis’ midsection and is now covered in gore. He nuzzles Occtis in a disturbingly cute kind of way.
The stone is still held in Murray’s mage hand, covered in Occtis’ blood. The blood drips from the Stone of Nightsong, turning into a ribbon and stitching his wound closed.
You are all silent for a moment before Occtis is swarmed by questions. He explains the best he can, what he remembers. The concerning vision he had.
Vaelus, the tall elf who you don’t know much about, crouches next to Occtis and asks if she can place a hand on his chest. He nods, confused but curious. You can see she’s thinking about something, trying to find something. She uses a spell on him that seems to make him uncomfortable but he doesn’t stop her.
“Remarkable.” Vaelus says after a long moment. Occtis furrows his brow.
“What is?” The confused look never leaves his face.
“You are.” Is all she responds. It’s quiet for a moment before Julien speaks up, raising his blade and pointing it at Occtis’ chest, sending a spike of alarm through you.
“Remarkable indeed.” He mocks. “What do you know?
Occtis is still confused, still not over the fact that he is alive but not. No heartbeat. No breath.
“About what exactly?”
Julien doesn’t seem to like that answer and steps closer. You spring into action, positioning yourself between him and Occtis.
“Julien, don’t. I just got him back and I won’t let you take him from me.” You growl, reaching for your own weapon. He seems a bit hurt that you’re choosing Occtis’ side. But he shouldn’t be surprised. You always choose the wrong people, in his opinion.
“You trust all so quickly. This one who walks from the realm without a heart once again amongst you and you’re so easy to call him a great gift from beyond,” he hisses “His family has always been nightmares. And tonight, they have taken everything from me.”
“From us.” He adds, looking at you as he says that, pressing forward. “His family killed ours and yet you still stand by him.”
“Occtis isn’t like his family. You know that. They killed him.” You retort. “I know I’m not your favorite, Julien, but trust me this once.”
He scoffs, not backing down, pressing his blade against your shoulder. Occtis steps in, not liking that there’s a blade against you.
“Everybody. Just calm down. I’m so sorry about your family. I have no idea why my family was there. I haven’t seen them in years. I’ve been traveling with Thaisha and your sibling. I-I tried to help Thjazi. I-I don’t know what they were doing.” Occtis explains.
“Did you see anything across the veil? Did they- Did they unveil some great plan? What did they take from you and why? Are you still the bait in our midst? Is this miracle a way to gain more trust so we follow you even further into whatever their great plan is to- to guide us into what meat shredder will make more of whatever it is that killer everything that matters to me?! So you put your hand and you defend him. You call him a miracle. You laugh. You sit there and you- you are so prideful with what you do here.” Julien explodes, voice raised, anger, grief, and confusion in his tone. He jabs his blade into your shoulder. You’re unsure if it was an accident or not but you see he doesn’t even notice the hiss of pain from your lips, too focused on Occtis.
“I don’t have an answer for you.” Is all Occtis can say. Julien grits his teeth, his blade going further into your shoulder. Aranessa steps in, a hand on your chest and one on Julien’s wrist, pulling you apart. Only then does Julien snap out of his anger and see his blade in your shoulder. A flash of regret is seen in his eyes. You press your hand over the bleeding wound, refusing to meet his eyes.
“Tonight, the House of Davinos, the House of Royce, have fallen. Our allies turned against us. This city is no longer safe. But we are not without our own strengths. So understand me when I say this, Julien. There is a fight waiting for you, and it’s waiting for me, too. Shadows lengthen. They surround us all. The doors to Faerie have closed. Step by step, wound by wound, we are made less. I will not have it. They have counted on our acquiescence, our kindness, which they see as weakness, but no one in the wide world has counted on what we have all just seen here. If there are answers, we will find them. We will find them!” Aranessa says firmly. She turns to Occtis. “I know you saw something on the other side. Please, Occtis, however you can, tell us what you saw. Perhaps the fate of this city, our houses, and this world depends on it.”
You leave after her words, needing to cool off. You don’t spare a look at anyone as you head back inside the Lloy estate. You know you’re way around well, having been here plenty of times before.
You head to the library, perusing books to try and focus on something else. The wound in your shoulder stings and still bleeds, but it seems to be slowing. You find a couch, sitting down, running your hands over your face.
All gone. The House of Davinos and House of Royce have fallen. Your father is gone. You’re didn’t get to say goodbye. You don’t stop the tears that well up in your eyes. You feel the warm drops fall onto your pants, darkening the fabric.
Time passes and you don’t notice quiet footsteps entering, only realizing you’re not alone when you feel someone sit next to you. Occtis. You always know when it’s him.
“Hey.” He says quietly. You don’t respond, keeping your gaze on your lap. He reaches over and moves the hair from obscuring your face, hooking it around your ear. “You okay?”
You don’t answer, slumping into his side instead, ignoring the sharp pain in your shoulder. You feel him wrap his arm around your shoulders.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” You whisper, your voice barely audible.
“No, don’t say that. We were outnumbered.” He chides softly. “Besides, Aranessa told me you managed to get a few good hits on Ethrand.”
“It wasn’t enough. I lost you. And I couldn’t even manage to take down one man.”
Occtis says your name firmly, turning your head towards him, holding your chin so gently.
“I don’t blame you. The attack was planned and a surprise. You lost so much, don’t add this onto your plate. I’m here. I may not need to breathe anymore or have a heart, but I’m here. Not even death can pull me away from you.”
More tears fall. “I was so scared. You mean so much to me and I didn’t know what to do with myself. Occtis, I-” you pause, “I love you. And I should have said it sooner. You could’ve been gone forever and you never would have known how much I love you.”
He’s silent, blinking in surprise. His face would be red if he still could blush. He cradles your face with his hands, wiping your tears away. You can’t help but lean into his touch.
“I-I love you too.” He responds. “And I’m not leaving you again. Aranessa, Sir Julien, Thaisha and I think it best to leave Dol-Makjar. Vaelus is also coming, though I’m not sure why. I assume you’re coming as well?”
“Of course. Where you go, I go.” You nod. He gives you a small smile, full of fondness and devotion.
“Where you go, I go.” He repeats and leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
A/N: Thanks for reading :) Not my best work, but I’m trying to write better! I also skimmed through it so I apologize for any inconsistencies and mistakes!
So… the thread of the Tachonis going around digging shit up in ancient tombs…and the Barrowdells being essentially grave robbed is the vibe I’m getting…
Considering they pushed for him to get executed, I’m guessing Thjazi was really fucking On to them with all his god relic collecting
A/N: Hiya! Just to get things outta the way, there ARE spoilers for the end of Campaign 2. So be aware!!!!!
Summary: Having lost your lover, Mollymauk, and dealing with his revival. But it wasn’t Molly who came back.
Word Count: 809
Lucien isn’t Mollymauk. You hate Lucien. A man who inhabits the body of your dead lover. So what if Lucien came first? He died and a piece of his soul was left behind. A piece that blossomed into the beautiful person that was Mollymauk.
Lucien isn’t Mollymauk. He doesn’t have any memories of Mollymauk or his short life. He doesn’t remember you or any of the Mighty Nein. Not even Yasha. Lucien catches your brisk glances, the expressions of pain and the torment in your eyes every time you look at him. You know he revels in it. Makes him curious.
~~~~~
The winds blew hard today in the frigid hellscape that is Eislecross. Why did Aeor have to crash into a tundra of all places? Endless walking in snow that seems to go on forever with no end in sight.
When it’s finally time to settle in for the night, Caleb sets up his Tiny Hut. Small and cramped but you prefer it in here to outside. You all huddle up to check in, whispering quietly, knowing Lucien is always watching.
You spare a glance outside the dome and see the Tombtakers settling in, setting up a fire, chatting. Lucien, on the other hand, has his gaze on the dome you are all in. He can’t see inside, but that’s doesn’t stop him from watching. You swear you make eye contact but it’s just a trick of the light. He isn’t Mollymauk.
~~~~~
Once everyone has settled in for bed, you volunteer to take first watch. Yasha stays up with you. You watch snow fall, slowly piling up and obscuring your vision outside the dome. You manage to see Lucien’s gaze still on the dome. Never sleeping. Always watching you and the Nein.
It’s as if he’s thinks he can burn a hole into the dome if he stares hard enough.
“You’ve been distant.” Yasha speaks up quietly, her words forward but not meant to force you to talk. It’s an invitation to open up.
“It’s…been a lot.” You respond after a while, your words an understatement. Yasha stays silent, letting you speak at your own pace. “Every time I look at him, every time he speaks, it fucks with my mind. I can easily see it’s not Molly. Though it sure as hell sounds like him. There’s a gleam in his eyes Mollymauk never had. But it’s the same body Molly had.”
Yasha listens, knowing how you feel. After all, Mollymauk was her best friend. She didn’t watch him die like you did, but is still just as haunted by his death. She knows that you blame yourself. Hells, she even goes through the ‘What if’s’ in her head too. If she wasn’t kidnapped, Molly would’ve never died. But she can’t change the past. And neither can you.
“We’ll figure it out.” Yasha finally says, the conviction in those simple words almost makes you believe them.
~~~~~
The next day is filled with more walking. But at least the weather seems to have cleared up. Still as cold as Gelidon’s tits but more bearable than the past few days.
You barely notice Lucien sidling up next to you, matching your steps. But he makes it known when he lets out a wistful sigh.
“Beautiful weather isn’t it? Not a cloud in the sky.” Lucien grins, his accent adding a melodic lilt to his words. You barely give him a side glance.
“I prefer to not to be freezing my ass off.” You click your tongue, keeping your gaze forward. He chuckles. That irks you, makes you want to crawl out of your skin. A laugh you used to love now sounds sour.
Lucien seems to consider something, tilting his head as he looks you over. A flicker of something passes his eyes but you don’t catch it as you look ahead.
“So, I assume you were fond of that temporary unwanted guest that took room in my body?” Lucien inquires with a smirk, his eyes knowing. You scowl, your blood boiling at him calling Mollymauk nothing more than a ‘temporary unwanted guest’. Your expression seems to confirm his guess and his smirk turns into a grin.
“Ah, young love. That relationship was doomed from the start, I’m afraid.” He muses with a melodic lilt in his tone.
“Fuck you, Lucien. Mollymauk was more the person than you’ll ever be.” You bite and walk ahead, falling in step with Yasha who gives you a concerned look but says nothing. You miss the way Lucien’s right hand twitches at your words.
* You’re slipping He hears in his head.
‘Shut it’, he hisses to the interloper in his mind. It’s already crowded enough with the Somnovem constantly nagging him like petulant toddlers. He doesn’t need this ‘fragment’ pestering him too. He hears an amused laugh in response before the voice goes silent.
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Notes: I am writing a part two for the end fight but it might take a while cause I’ll probably need to rewatch the Cognouza episodes. Thank you so much for reading!!
A/N: Hello! This is my very first fanfic and I wanted to write something for Critical Role. There’s not enough /reader fanfic for CR in general. This was a quick work that bounced into my head. Warning: I am not a good writer lol but I wanted to get this idea out of my head and share it. Dialogue isn’t a strong suit of mine. Apologies if there are grammar mistakes!
Also, at least have watched past Episode 4 of Campaign 4!
Word Count: 1.2k
The past few days have been….awful. The execution of Thjazi Fang, a man you looked up to, now gone. The slaughter of the Royce and Davinos houses. Occtis’ death and revival. And most recently, leaving Dol-Makjar entirely. The city you lived in all your life. Not to say you haven’t traveled but it’s making you anxious leaving Hal and the others behind. The group consists of you, Aranessa Royce, Thaisha Lloy, Vaelus of the Mournwood, Occtis Tachonis, and Julien Davinos. You get along well with all of them, but are tempted to smother Julien in his sleep.
You and this group of misfits you found yourself with are heading to check on other Royce relatives. You remember Aranessa said you’re heading to a town called, Riesingürtle. She said something about one of their caravans possibly being stopped there since it never arrived to Dol-Makjar. The Tachonis’ have taken away so much. And trying to uncover their motives is quite difficult.
But, you still have a ways to go, and are currently staying in an inn on the Dvalmar Pass. It’s been hard to sleep, plagued by nightmares and your mind filled with worries of what can go wrong. You sit by the window, staring out at the starry sky. Everyone’s asleep but Vaelus, who doesn’t sleep just meditates, and Occtis, who no longer sleeps due to being undead. Occtis, your best friend, has been a bit distant. He did die, after all, and is now what they call a Hollow One. You imagine being brutally murdered by your own brother and then coming back to ‘life’ might fuck with your head a bit.
Your gaze occasionally falls onto him. He sits quietly in the corner, gazing into the room’s fireplace, absentmindedly running his fingers through Pincushion’s fur, who is currently snuggled up in his lap. The fire flickers over Occtis’ gaunt face, his olive skin paler now. His green eyes now holding a supernatural glow. He mutters quietly to himself, a quirk he has. You want to talk to him, but your mind weighs heavy with everything that has happened, and you haven’t had the chance to have a conversation with him. You suspect Occtis isn’t doing well either. He’s always kept to himself. Though he seems so far away now.
After a while, he seems to sense your intermittent glances and meets your eyes. He gives you a soft, yet anxious, smile before setting Pincushion aside, who runs to sit on Vaelus’ lap instead. Occtis then shuffles towards you, grabbing a blanket before draping it around your shoulders and sitting next to you. Your shoulders relax a bit, as he tends to have that effect on you.
“You should sleep. I haven’t seen you rest for more than an hour since we left Dol-Makjar.” Occtis says, his voice quieter than it usually is, not wanting to wake the others, but it’s still just as soft as it always is.
“‘M not tired. Besides, I can’t sleep without seeing Thjazi being executed. Or you torn apart on that table.” You murmur, keeping your gaze to the stars. Occtis is quiet for a moment, fidgeting with his fingers. You used to find comfort with him beside you, and don’t get it wrong, you still do. But you don’t hear his steady breaths anymore. It’s unsettling. And you know if you rest your head on his chest, you won’t hear his heartbeat because it’s gone. His heart was ripped out by his own brother. Under all those clothes is a poorly stitched wound that no healing spell or potion can fix. You have half a mind to help him stitch it. That stuff doesn’t gross you out as much as it used to. But you know he won’t let you get anywhere near it, fearing you’ll see him differently.
The distance and silence between you two seems to get to you and you finally lean into Occtis’ side. He tenses a bit, having not expected it, before relaxing after a few seconds. You know he worries that you find him repulsive, which is far from the truth. His body feels the same, though now cold. He has that familiar scent of frankincense, something uniquely him, and a hint of formaldehyde.
“I’m sorry we haven’t had the chance to talk. It’s a bit hard to have a one-on-one while traveling. And there’s…uhm, been a lot on my mind. How have you been holding up?” Occtis inquires, breaking the silence, albeit quietly.
“I should be asking you that. I’m not the one who died and came back.” You respond, glancing up at him, taking in his gaunt features and pale skin. He meets your gaze before glancing away, never able to hold eye contact for long periods of time.
“Well, I..uh, asked you first. You’re obligated to answer. Those are the rules.” He retorts, his lips quirking up ever so slightly to show he’s trying to be lighthearted. You let out a huff of amusement and indulge him in answering.
“Not well. I watched the man I looked up to die. Then watched the Royce and Davinos families get slaughtered. Then saw you dead on a table with your chest cut open and your heart missing. Now we’re far from home, trying to pick up pieces of everything. So many questions and so far, no answers,” you sigh “It’s just…so much.”
Occtis doesn’t respond for a long moment so you reach up and cup his cheek, pulling his gaze back to you, not wanting him to get lost in those thoughts of his. If he was still able to, he’d be blushing. You always had a talent for leaving him a blushing, flustered mess. Not that it’s a hard thing to do.
“I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you didn’t come back. I was a wreck when I saw you on that table. Though I can’t imagine how you’re feeling.” You whisper as if telling him a secret. Occtis swallows nothing, his mouth is dry and absent of saliva.
“It’s, uhm, hard to explain. I am aware of my body. I can feel it pressing down on me like I’m wearing my flesh. And the lack of breathing is hard to get used to. I find myself not thinking about it and then realize I’m not doing it. There’s always that panic for a split moment which causes me to gasp for air, though I don’t need it anymore. It’s…it’s unpleasant.” Occtis admits, finding himself leaning into your touch before stopping himself and pulling away, much to your displeasure. You let your hand fall with a sigh and go back out to looking out the window at the stars. Your mind briefly thinks of the Halovars and their bullshit religion you’re 100% sure they made up. Getting their power from the cosmos. ‘The Light’ is a joke.
You stay leaning against Occtis, who has wrapped the blanket around you more, and adjusted you to be more comfortable; not so subtly trying to get you to sleep. Unfortunately, it starts to work. You find your eyelids drooping and soon you slip into a fitful rest, though comforted by the fact that Occtis is watching over you.
—————————
You wake up the next morning, seeing that Occtis hasn’t moved and Pincushion has settled in your lap, asleep in a little ball. You’re slow to move away from Occtis as your gaze sweeps the room, letting yourself wake. You quickly you catch the eye of Thaisha who’s giving you a knowing grin and two thumbs up.
-
-
-
Notes: TYSM for reading! I posted this to Ao3 first and I’m trying to figure out the best format on how to post on Tumblr. I have another fic on Ao3 I plan on posting here as well. I want to start writing more, especially for Occtis. Maybe some of the Mighty Nein as well. I really like Critical Role guys lol.
Anyway, here’s some fanart I drew last year after finishing Campaign 2 as a treat for reading my bad writing 🥰
READ PART 1: Unequivocally : ̗̀➛ Johnny Storm x Reader
Pairing: Johnny Storm x Witch!Reader
Summary: You didn't mean to fall in love with Johnny Storm, nor did he with you. Two different universes, two people that should have never met to begin with...but then why did it just feel so right? Why did home suddenly feel like a person instead of a place...why did it feel like it was destined to be the two of you from the start?
Warnings: so much fluff, some angst, some adult themes mentioned, pre-established lovers torn apart by the multiverse, Johnny is a little shit sometimes, SPOILERS! for The Fantastic Four: First Steps, MCU spoilers, female reader but no characteristics described, reader is kind of depressed but so is Johnny, can we consider this a soulmate AU at this point cause we might be able to, VERY lightly edited so apologies for any mistakes
Word Count: 22,620 words
A/N: I am so sorry this took so damn long for a part two, that's what happens when your mental health takes a nosedive for a hot minute because of other health related things lmao but we're all good now we're back baby
“Honey–no–that’s the gas pedal. You want the clutch-”
“What the hell is the clutch?”
“The second one in on the left, you have to press that down-”
Johnny bit into his bottom lip, trying desperately to try and conceal the laughter that was threatening to fall from his lips. In dramatic fashion, you threw your head back into the headrest of his blue Corvette. The sigh that tumbled from your lips was probably loud enough to be heard from Lower Manhattan at this point.
Gaze turning on him, stern and annoyed, Johnny could still see the notes of playfulness under it all.
“Stick shift is stupid, Johnny,”
“It’s not stupid-”
“Where I’m from, we can hit a single button to start our cars these days,” you accented your comment by pressing your finger into the space next to the steering wheel. “Hell, we can start some of them with our phones. They even drive themselves!”
The laughter Johnny tried so hard to keep at bay came tumbling out anyways, further cementing the annoyed look that crossed your face. He reached into the car, taking your hand in his, cradling it and littering soft kiss after kiss along each of your knuckles.
For just a split second, he saw that look in your eyes soften, that familiar affection he’d grown so used to creeping in along the edges. It always happened when he did this, and Johnny would take advantage of it every single time.
“This is the 60s, sweetheart, we aren’t that advanced. Unless I go tell Reed to make it happen,” you tried to drag your hand away but Johnny held tight, still kneeling on the ground in the open driver’s side door in front of you. “Also: be nice to the car. She’s my prized possession.”
“Prized possession?” you questioned, eyebrow lifting up immediately at the remark.
“Well, she’s been demoted to second place now,” Johnny’s lips turned into their usual smirk. Rising to his feet, he tugged your hand without giving you a second to think. Stumbling from the car and straight into his arms, Johnny’s wound around your waist to lock you in tightly to his body, nose just barely brushing the tip of yours. “My real prized possession has to be the little witch I managed to wrangle into loving me.”
You laughed, and Johnny could see it then like he saw so many times before: love. Written so clearly across your face, hidden in the lines of your smile and in the creases around your eyes as you laughed. A love her truly didn’t understand how he’d been blessed with, but was prepared to do whatever it took to keep it.
“I’m still trying to figure out how you managed it, too,”
Johnny just hummed, his lips finding yours with a practiced ease. A simple action that lit his skin on fire in a different way than he was very literally used to. Kissing you the moment you woke up in the morning, in front of his family until Ben complained, or in every little moment he could find, Johnny would never get tired of it. He’d simply never get tired of you.
He’d said it before, and he’d keep saying it until the end of time: you were it for him, ruined him in the best way, and he never wanted to go back to a life without you.
“It’s not good to mope, you know?”
As fast as that memory had overtaken him, invaded every single one of his thoughts, it was gone. The weight of your hand in his, the scent of your perfume, the feel of your lips pressed to his was resigned, once again, to what it was: a memory.
And suddenly, Johnny was back right where he didn’t want to be…in a life without you.
Standing by the window of his bedroom, gazing out at the Excelsior was where Johnny found himself as his sister’s voice invaded his thoughts. His room hadn’t changed much. Your favorite record had never left the player across the room, and in every single corner, on every single piece of furniture in the room, there was a memory of you burned into the very fabric of it.
“I’m not moping,” Johnny immediately shot Sue a look where she stood in his doorway, before looking back to the ship standing tall outside the window. Gesturing wildly with his hands, even he wasn’t sure what he was doing. “I’m simply…admiring the craftsmanship.”
“The craftsmanship-”
“Reed made some upgrades, it looks good,” Johnny shrugged, not having to look to feel Sue walking further into the room to stand beside him. “Darker blue around the windows, larger engines in the back, freshly painted logo–hey, has your husband ever thought about a career in interior design?”
“Given that everything you just said is on the outside of the ship, I don’t think it counts as interior,” Sue’s knowing gaze was already trained on him when Johnny finally met her eyes. “And you are trying to deflect.”
Johnny simply rolled his eyes at his sister’s words. Clapping her quickly on the shoulder, he stalked across the room to his bed, his freshly dried laundry sitting on top of the bed where he had neglected to actually put it all away. Busying his hands, he didn’t look back up at her as he talked.
“It’s not deflecting, you act like I refuse to talk about her. I talk about her all the time,” halfway through folding one of his shirts, Johnny simply gave up and tossed it across his bed, deciding it could just get hung up instead of folded. “We all talk about her all the time. I’m allowed to miss her, you know?”
“I didn’t even mention her, Johnny-”
“Not the point. I did love her, you know? I’m allowed to miss her,”
“Did, as in past tense?”
Sue was standing on the other side of the bed now when Johnny finally looked up. He sent her an unimpressed look as she folded her arms across her chest.
“You know what I mean,”
“Yes, because I know you. Which means I also know that you typically hide your moping and pining better than staring longingly out of a window. There was only one other time you looked this pathetically sad, and that was last year,” Johnny returned to the pile of clothes before him, refusing to meet his sister’s eyes as she slowly settled herself down onto the bed in front of him. “It’s almost the anniversary, isn’t it?”
Of course it was. Johnny knew it, Sue knew it, Reed knew it, Ben knew it–hell, even Franklin and Herbie probably knew it.
Hanging on the wall of his bedroom, right by his dresser, sat that stupid little calendar. And five days from now there was one simple, tiny little blue heart drawn on the date. The day you had to leave him, turning his world upside down more than you had when you first arrived, and left him feeling as if a part of him was missing.
“Two years, Sue,” Johnny took a single glance up at her, shrugging his shoulders. “I think I’m allowed to be a little depressed around this time, okay? Give a guy a break, I smile in all our interviews and in every Ted Gilbert appearance.”
“A half-assed smile,”
Tossing one of his shirts at Sue, she caught it easily. But that look remained in her eyes, that knowing look. The one that, for his entire life, was able to see right through Johnny as if he was made of glass.
“Put yourself in my shoes, think about it as if it was you and Reed, and he got ripped away from you,” he tried to explain, getting frustrated with folding yet another shirt and tossing it off to the side. “It’s stupid, because I know she had to leave. I knew the entire time that, one day, she’d have to leave because she didn’t belong here. But it just…felt like she did, you know? Like she belonged with me. She didn’t see the Human Torch, she just saw me…the same way you see me.”
Quiet enveloped the room again. Johnny let the shirts in his hands fall to the bed, giving up on focusing on something else, as he met Sue’s eyes again. There wasn’t a second of judgement in them, not a single ounce of pity, just understanding. An understanding that for Johnny’s entire life he was sure only his sister could have for him, until you came along.
With his usual dramatic flair, Johnny threw himself down onto the bed. Clothing be damned, strewn out across the comforter, Sue’s light laughter filled the room as his head landed beside her leg. Her hand found its way to his shoulder, rubbing little circles into it in the most comforting way she could.
“I get it Johnny, we all do. We all miss her, too,” she quietly reminded him. He could feel her watching him, even as his eyes stayed trained on the ceiling above them. “Franklin asked about her today…asked where his auntie was.”
“He always asks where she is,” Johnny mumbled, still not looking away from the ceiling as Sue hummed.
“True, but he doesn’t usually cry. Doesn’t usually tell me how much he misses her, how he can’t feel her magic and it makes him sad,”
Johnny really thought, two years in, it would get easier. That maybe, after a few months, he’d stop missing you as much as he did those first few weeks.
He’d eventually forced himself to put away the few pieces of your clothing that had still been littered around his bedroom from that fateful day. Your perfume had begun to fade from his pillowcases. He thought it would get easier then, that he’d just be able to look at the photos of you and him that still sat on his bedside table or hung on his wall and smile at the memories. That he could move on, look back on them for what they had to be: memories. Thank you for showing him what it felt like to be loved and how to give it so that he could give it to someone else. Because as much as you had promised him that it wasn’t a goodbye that day, and as much as he told himself he’d see you again, he knew the likelihood was slim. Two different worlds, two different universes, two different people who were just never meant to be. Who never should’ve met to begin with.
It was month three without you when Johnny decided that maybe, just maybe, he could try again. But the second Ben came home from a night out and cautiously told him that there was a nice young woman Rachel wanted to introduce him to, Johnny broke down into tears for the first time since that sparkling gold portal had opened in Reed Richards’ lab.
You had ruined Johnny Storm completely, and he knew right then and there he wasn’t going to be able to ever love someone again. Not like he loved you.
“I’m pathetic,” Johnny muttered in mock disdain, eyes still trained on the ceiling. “Little witch turned me into a pathetic, hopeless romantic. Maybe she really did put a spell on me.”
“No, Johnny, you just fell in love. That’s the beautiful tragedy of it,” Sue laughed, her fingers reaching out and bumping with Johnny’s cheek gently to grab his attention. He let his head lull to the side, catching her gaze and the soft smile on her face, the one that spoke a thousand words without having to say a single thing.
“Two different worlds, Sue. How real can that love really be?”
“Tell me: if she was standing here right now, and I handed you mom’s ring, would you ask her to marry you?”
“Yes,” it was the easiest thing Johnny had ever said. As easy as the first time he’d told you he loved you. Like he knew it in his heart.
“Then who cares if it makes sense? It was real, it still is,” Sue gave a little shrug, an easy smile on her face. “Love doesn’t always make sense. Sometimes it’s complicated, but at the same time…when you know, you know. That’s the only girl I’ve ever seen you like that with, Johnny, and I’ll forever be thankful to her for the man she helped you become.”
“I sent you up here to stop his pity fest, did you turn it into a heart-to-heart?”
Ben’s voice cut into the conversation, his large form looming in the doorway as he raised his rocky eyebrow in the direction of the siblings. Johnny simply rolled his eyes at his friend, practically vaulting himself off the bed and back to his feet, laundry wrinkled across the bed now and a problem for a later time as he tried to shake himself awake from the conversation that loomed heavily in the back of his mind.
Sue shook her head, rising to her feet as well as she walked over to join Ben in the doorway.
“His pity fest was worse than usual. He was staring longing out the window. I almost saw some tears,”
“Damn, haven’t seen tears in a hot minute from matchstick,” Ben whistled, clicking his tongue. “The window is pretty bad. Worst I saw was his birthday–don’t think he took that sweater she got him off the entire day-”
“When did today become ‘Make Fun of Johnny Day’ huh?” Johnny cut in, eyebrow raised and arms thrown out as he cast a glance between both Sue and Ben on the far side of his room. “What, did you make it a city-wide holiday? Call up the mayor?”
“Not a bad idea-”
“Come on,” Sue cut in, landing a light slap to Ben’s chest, even as he laughed at his own comment. The pair were already turning to walk down the hallway together as Sue threw in another comment over her shoulder. “Reed wants you in the lab, it’s not an option!”
There was no point in arguing with the pair, especially if Reed was requesting his presence. He let his eyes drift to his bedside table, to that familiar polaroid photo that sat leaning against his lamp, of you wrapped in his arms on the living room balcony. He’d lost that magically preserved Plumeria flower weeks ago, spent days upending his room trying to find it, but your hand writing was still scrawled across the edge of the photo in your magic.
Unequivocally yours.
With a sigh, tearing himself away, Johnny followed the pair through the hallway and down the stairs and into the living room of the Baxter Building. His mind was far from in the moment, though, too lost in his own memories.
The memory of walking down those exact stairs into the living room to see you, dolled up for your first official date together. The many mornings he’d walked down those stairs to see you cooking breakfast with Ben in the kitchen, or sitting with Sue and Reed in the living room, laughing with Franklin on your lap.
Even the elevator brought memories as he stepped into it beside Sue and Ben.
“You know,” Johnny’s voice was low, twinged with a heat that he hadn’t felt before. His eyes took just a moment to glance down at your lips, flickering back to your eyes before you could catch him. “This would be the moment during the date where I’d probably try and kiss you.”
He waited with bated breath, a flurry of butterflies hammering against his chest the second your brilliant smile lit up your face. But then your eyes glowed blue for just a moment, a small burst of magic leaving the hand resting on his chest, pushing him backward and out of the elevator doors.
Johnny’s wide eyes watched you as he caught himself, steadying himself on the ground as he stared at you with a dumbfounded smile. You only returned the look, pressing the button for the guest floor without ever breaking eye contact as he felt every ounce of breath rush out of him in a single moment.
“Guess you’ll have to try your luck tomorrow night,”
Ben’s rocky hand collided with Johnny’s shoulder gently, knocking him out of his own head.
“Come on, buddy, quit daydreaming,” Ben teased, but his words were gentle. Almost pitying as the elevator descended down to the lab. “I know I said love looks good on you…but I hate seeing you like this.”
“Yeah, well, blame the wizard dude,” Johnny huffed out, waving his hand off-handedly as he tried to change the subject, trying not to let his mind wander once against and get lost in his own head for the hundredth time in the last hour. “Next time I see him, I might punch him.”
“That I might pay to see,” Sue chimed in, sharing a laugh with Ben as the elevator dinged, the doors sliding open to the familiar lab.
Reed Richards was down near his chalk board, handing a set of papers off to Herbie as he wrote what Johnny could only assume was another long-winded equation across the board. Herbie took the papers from him, rolling across the room to feed them into the computer down at the far end of the lab and wait for the results to print out.
Sue and Ben continued to converse with one another as they moved to join Reed at the chalkboard. Johnny, though, was in no rush. He lagged behind, arms crossed over his chest as he took tentative steps into the room, simply watching the three converse quietly in their little huddle by the chalkboard.
That is, until a little ball of blonde hair collided with his leg, latching onto him like a little leech.
“Uncle Johnny! You left your room!”
If anything, or anyone, was going to bring a smile to Johnny’s face right now, it was always going to be Franklin. With a single swoop of his arm, Johnny positioned his nephew onto his hip. The smiling four year old giggled, wrapping his little arounds tightly around his uncle’s shoulders to hold on as Johnny reached up to ruffle his hair playfully, tugging just barely on his ear to make the boy squirm in his hold as he shot him a bright smile.
“Hey buddy. I was told your crazy dad wanted to see me, I didn’t think this was a family meeting,”
“We made you a present!” Franklin excitedly announced, hands curling into Johnny’s shirt as he practically bounced in his arms. Johnny held on tighter, trying not to let the boy slip from his hold. “I even helped.”
“Did you now?”
Taking a few more steps into the room, Johnny shot his inquisitive look toward Ben, his sister, and his brother-in-law. The former two both shoved Reed forward, who simply shot them both looks for their actions, before he tossed the little device in his hands in Johnny’s direction. He caught it easily in one hand, turning it over in his palm.
“I’ve been working on it for a few months. Franklin just got to pick the color,”
Johnny…had no clue what he was looking at. The rectangular device was slightly larger than the palm of his hand, an opening in the back revealing a set of exposed wires that he was sure were meant to be connected to something else.
The lit screen showcased a series of complicated numbers and equations. Multiple strings of numbers looked almost like coordinates, some looked like jump points that they used to calculate jumps through wormholes in space, but they all led to one number on the screen, highlighted in bold: 616.
“My gift is a little box with numbers…thanks?” Johnny raised an eyebrow in Reed’s direction.
Sue sighed, tugging on her husband’s arm and gesturing toward the chalkboard beside them. He nodded, waving Johnny over in their direction. He complied, albeit warily, standing in front of the couch with Franklin still positioned over his hip as Ben and Sue stood at Reed’s side while he ran him through the series of equations littering the board.
“We’ve been mulling over the idea for months now. Close to a year. More so the ethical implications of it,” Reed underlined one of the longest equations on the board, accenting the end of it with his chalk. “You’ve been in a funk, it’s been clear. I knew that I could accomplish this, but it came down to whether or not it was ethical for me to do this, to build this. But in looking back on my own notes, from my own data collected from her time here, nothing seemed thrown out of balance. From quick studies, I see no sign of any incursions. Which–theoretically–would suggest that the same could work in reverse. The construction of the device was simple, really. A device that could allow our ship to break through a jump point and use quantum physics in order to cross through a multidimensional stream was simple to construct-”
Multidimensional stream.
Johnny couldn’t breathe. Reed kept talking, his mouth kept moving, his hand kept sweeping across the chalkboard, but Johnny couldn’t comprehend a single word that came out of his mouth.
It wasn’t until he placed Franklin down on the couch behind him that he realized he was shaking. With both hands, Johnny clutched that device in his hands, staring down at that three digit number staring back at him. When he finally looked back up at his family, they were already staring back at him.
“You…you’re saying that t-this thing?” he held the device up, shaking it in the air in Reed’s direction with wide eyes. “Can help our ship travel the multiverse?”
Reed stalked across the room to his workstation without another word, digging around for something. Johnny caught Ben and Sue’s eyes. Their smiles were prevalent, those encouraging ones, the ones that screamed ‘you deserve this,’ that said ‘we did this for you’.
“Did you know, in the infinite multiverse, I was able to find approximately 17,835,239 other versions of your witch with energy signatures that are almost identical to hers? All slightly different, but very similar, almost impossible to tell apart,” Reed spoke up as he stepped back toward Johnny, pulling his hand out from behind his back and holding it out in Johnny’s direction. “Luckily, I knew just how to find yours.”
The Plumeria flower. Still shimmering, encased in your blue magic, forever keeping it alive.
Johnny glanced down at the device again, eyes catching that number once more: 616. A lump formed in his throat, every emotion he’d felt for the last two years swelling in him all at once as he let his finger drift over the screen, right over the number.
“So…616-”
His sister’s hand found his upper arm, curling around it, squeezing it in comfort. Johnny leaned into it without a second thought, too overwhelmed to think twice.
“It stands for Earth-616,” Sue told him softly. He could hear the smile in her voice. “It’s her earth, Johnny. Reed found it. He found her.”
❤︎
Dear Johnny,
It’s been awhile since I’ve written you one of these, probably since I stopped seeing my “Wong Appointed” therapist. He’s still upset about that, but therapists don’t exactly understand how to help me deal with falling in love with a man from an entirely different universe, so I felt like it was just a waste of both of our times. The letters were her idea, and they sometimes helped, so I guess she was good for something.
Today is the two year mark. I don’t like thinking about it. I’ve been trying not to think about it all day, actually. Joaquín and I left for a mission at almost three in the morning today, that’s how badly I didn’t want to think about what today was. The mission was easy, barely took half of the day. I threw two dudes out of a window, then I laughed to myself because I could almost hear you in my head saying “wow, that was so hot.”
I miss you. That’s the whole point of me writing this, because I’m really trying not to cry right now. We’re on the quinjet back, and at some point in the middle of this data retrieval it just hit me that it’s been two years since I’ve seen you. Since I’ve held you. Since I’ve kissed you. I thought maybe writing down how much I miss you, how much I love you, would make me feel better. Honestly, I think it might just be making it worse-
“OW! Joaquín, I swear to god-”
“It’s not exactly easy to stitch your arm when you’re writing. Put the pen down for two seconds and let me finish the damn stitches first, please and thank you,”
He had a point, even if you didn’t want to admit it. The quinjet was cruising on autopilot, the overhead indicator calling out that you’d just passed over Baltimore and the ETA to the compound was now ten minutes.
The pen in your hand dropped as a sigh escaped your lips. Joaquín shot you a mockingly thankful look, focusing back in on the exposed area of your forearm where the bullet had grazed, cutting through your suit and leaving a deep enough cut to warrant stitches. Thankfully, your teammate and friend knew you well enough to know you weren’t stopping by the hospital, and had volunteered his services before Sam forced you to be seen by a doctor the second you stepped foot off the jet.
“Did you finish off the report for Sam?” you managed out through gritted teeth, hand flexing as Joaquín finished off the final stitch, tying it closed and wiping down the area with a final anti-septic pad that had you inhaling another hiss of pain. You took the bandage he passed your way with a nod of thanks as he packed away the med kit laid out in front of him.
“Did it the second we got in the air, it’s on the table,” he nodded his head toward the main table of the room, stashing the medkit in its rightful place across the room before heading back toward the cockpit, double checking on all the indicators to ensure that everything was in place and holding steady. “So, are we going to talk about it?”
You hummed, rubbing at the now bandaged part of your arm over the torn portion of your suit. Rising from your chair, letter abandoned, you did a quick flip through of the report to ensure everything was in order: SERPENT base, files recovered concerning resurfaced HYDRA activity, no casualties, single gunshot graze.
“Talk about what?”
“Uh, the fact that the all powerful witch got so distracted she basically got shot?” you glanced in Joaquín’s direction as he spoke. He stood with his arms crossed, still donning his suit, raising an eyebrow in your direction as he gave a little shrug. “Come on, I’m the one who always needs a second pair of eyes watching his back in the field. You’re, like, a model of perfection on missions. You never slip up. What happened back there?”
“It was stupid,” you tried to deflect, but Joaquín held your gaze. With a sigh, you cast your eyes down to the table, drumming your fingers along the edge. “The two agents were just making callouts to each other. One of them…his name was Johnny. I just froze for a second when I heard it, that’s all.”
It really was stupid. Such a trivial thing. A name, just a name was all it took for you to freeze in a moment where you shouldn’t have frozen. Any other day and it wouldn’t have affected you, wouldn’t have stopped you in your tracks the way it had.
But not today. Not on the anniversary of the day you’d been forced to leave behind the little family you’d found for yourself, leaving a piece of yourself forever behind with the Human Torch himself.
Joaquín’s laughter cut through the silence of the jet, and the glare you sent his way immediately at the sound was piercing. He was hunched over, arm wrapped around his middle and one hand on the back of the pilot’s chair to try and steady himself. Each time his eyes met yours, he only doubled over more in laughter, waving his hand in your direction.
“I-I’m sorry, all it took was his name?” you crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the table as you fixed your friend with an unimpressed look. He howled with laughter again, wiping at his under eyes with his hand. You couldn’t tell if it was an exaggeration, or if he really was crying from here. “Jesus, sweetheart, you really are pathetic when it comes to him.”
Stalking past him, a wave of magic rolled off you with a single thought, shoving him out of the way to allow you to climb into the pilot’s chair. Ignoring the tail end of his laughter as Joaquín clung to the back of your chair, you disengaged the autopilot feature of the jet, locking in the controls to prepare for landing at the compound
“Thanks, Joaquín, I can always count on you to make me feel better,” your words grumbled out under your breath, hands tight on the controls. Joaquín climbed into the seat next to you, wings shoved off onto the floor behind him to allow him to settle into the seat comfortably next to you. Even without looking, you could see the stupid smirk on his face.
“Sorry, sorry, you know I’m just teasing. Everyone knows you’re always pathetic when it comes to your flame boy,” the only response you gave was a hum as he scoffed, reaching over and lightly hitting you on the shoulder with his hand. “Come on, lighten up! You’re my friend, you think I don’t know today is the anniversary? I’m trying to cheer you up, make you laugh, you know?”
“Might want to try a comedy class at this rate,” you shot back, head rolling over as you shot him a smirk of your own. “Maybe we should visit Isaiah. Watching him kick your ass in the gym might bring a smile to my face.”
That comment brought a laugh out of Joaquín, one that was enough to momentarily distract your mind enough to let a soft smile make its way to your lips.
“Damn, you’re one cold witch sometimes, you know?” the comment earned him a slap on his shoulder from you. His laughter died down, a soft smile mirroring yours finding its way to Joaquín’s face. “You’re allowed to talk about him with me, you know? I’ll listen.”
Your smile fell, just slightly. It got tighter by just a pinch, jaw tightening just a little, as your eyes turned back to the skies as you nodded.
“I know that,”
“You sure? Because you really don’t talk about him much. Not out loud,”
“It’s not easy to. If Johnny wants to talk about me, he has an entire building full of people that got to know me for a year to talk to. I don’t have that,” a bitter laugh found its way out of you before you could stop it. You didn’t want to be bitter about the situation, but it was impossible not to. There was no one you were made at except the situation itself, except the universe as a whole. “I love you and Sam dearly, but you two don’t know him. Chances are you never will. I can talk about how much I miss him, how much I miss all of them, but will you ever really understand why when you don’t know them like I do?”
Casting your eyes back over to him for just a moment, Joaquín still held that soft smile toward you. He gave a little shrug.
“Maybe not, but I’m still your friend. I’d still listen,”
Quiet enveloped the two of you for a few moments, the weight of the conversation settling between you both. You tried to shake it from you, to will away the memories that threatened to creep into your mind anytime you were left to stew alone in your head for too long. Suddenly, Joaquín shot up in his seat. Leaning closer to the windows of the jet, eyes wide and full of excitement, he cast a quick glance back at you and he pointed out of the glass. “God, I love when we fly back into the compound this way and can see the monument from the sky. One hell of a skyline, isn’t it?”
“One hell of a skyline, isn’t it?”
The nighttime breeze of New York City drifted over you, the cool feeling dancing over your skin. That cool feeling didn’t stay long, not when that familiar deep burgundy jacket slid over your shoulders, it’s warmth enveloping you. That same warmth suddenly found your waist, seeping straight from Johnny Storm’s hands and through your shirt, straight into your skin as he squeezed, the tip of his nose brushing along the edge of your ear as he slotted himself into the space behind you on the Baxter Building balcony.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” you hummed back, leaning back into the warmth reflexively, hands gripping the railing of the balcony. The lights of the city glittered in the distance, car horns beeping and distant sounds of sirens could be heard from miles away. “Grew up here, remember?”
“Come on, our skylines can’t be the exact same,”
“Pretty damn close, baby,” you shot back, turning your head just barely to catch his eyes. Even in the night, those baby blue eyes were still so brilliantly bright. The smile that stretched across your lips was easy. “Sorry, guess your city isn’t that special.”
Johnny rolled his eyes. You moved then, stepping out of his arms and trying to step away from him, turning away to walk inside, but of course, he wouldn’t let you. His hand caught your waist again, spinning you back into him, hands landing on his chest as his grip held firm against your lower back.
Laughter bubbled out of you before you could stop it, smile bright, as your hands slid up to cup the back of his neck. Before a single word could slip past your lips he surged forward, slotting his against your own, a sigh of pure contentment falling from your lips instead as you let your fingers curl into his hair instead. Relishing the feel of his hands along the small of your back.
“You’re such a dork,” the words were muttered against his lips through a smile. “But I love you.”
His smile matched yours, lips never leaving yours either as he spoke.
“Your dork, who loves you, too,”
A flash of light interrupted the kiss, tearing the two of you away from one another, but only by an inch. Sue stood sheepishly in the doorway of the balcony, balancing a giggling Franklin on one hip and a Polaroid camera in her other hand, muttering apology after apology, quickly trying to sneak away with the newly printed photo.
You could only laugh, leaning into Johnny as his lips pressed into the crown of your head over and over again, a rush of something shooting through you in the moment that you hadn’t felt in so long: safety. That comforting feeling, where in that moment, everything just felt right.
You hated memories. You hated how easy it was for something so simple–something so trivial–to invoke them.
“Yeah…it’s great,” was the only response you could muster back to Joaquín at that moment. Your smile was gone again, that youthful glow and that playful tone replaced once more with the wistfulness that had engulfed you since you’d stepped foot back in your own universe two years ago.
Not another word was said as you landed the quinjet further up the Potomac River on the landing pad outside of the compound, the one specially designed for the new team formed under Sam Wilson’s own Avengers team. Being left a sizable fund in your name by an old teammate and mentor left plenty to fund a compound for your new team.
If Joaquín noticed your quick change in demeanor, which he certainly did, he chose not to mention it as you strode side by side into the compound together. You were grateful for it. Talking about your feelings was, quite frankly, the last thing you wanted to do.
Wallowing in self pity in bed, all by yourself, sounded like the better option for the rest of the night.
The crumpled, unfinished note was tucked into the back pocket of your suit as you trailed through the empty compound behind Joaquín. He was flicking through the mission report, ensuring that everything was in place and he hadn’t screwed anything up, knowing that Sam preferred everything on these reports accurate when he wasn’t on the mission with either of you.
Both you and Joaquín came to a halt the second you saw the sight before you in the compound’s main kitchen.
“Uh…Sam?”
The man turned on his heel, sending a bright smile in the direction of you both, before he put the pot of noodles in his hand on the burner behind him, flicking it on just like the others were on their own pans. The entire island counter looked as if the local grocery store had thrown up on it: empty boxes of noodles, some flour littering the counter, homemade garlic bread sitting on a baking sheet waiting for the oven to most likely preheat. Enough food to, probably, feed the entire US military if Sam Wilson really wanted to.
“Who is this guy and what happened to our Sam?” Joaquín muttered toward you, thought not discreetly at all as you could see the roll of Sam’s eyes from the other side of the island. “He never cooks. At least, not for us.”
“Tonight is different,” Sam cut in, checking on everything on the stove quickly before turning back to look at the both of you. His hands gripped the edge of the counter as his eyes roamed over both of you, eyes landing on the bandage wrapped around the torn forearm of your suit. “What happened? I thought it was mission success?”
“It was,” you waved him off, taking the file from Joaquín’s hands and tossing it across the counter to Sam, letting him flick through the report. “I got grazed by a bullet, it was nothing. Don’t try and change the subject, Wilson, why is tonight different? We never do ‘team meals’ together, that’s not our thing.”
Sam was silent, didn’t answer your question for a moment, as he flicked through the rest of the report. Letting it fall back to the counter in front of him, the bright smile was back on his face in seconds as he glanced back up, specifically right at you.
“We have guests tonight,”
Joaquín stood a little straighter next to you, his own smile growing as he excitedly clapped his hand down on your shoulder.
“Guests? You finally make up with Bucky and invite those guys down here? Or is this a, like, military-strategy type of dinner meeting and we should go get out of our suits?”
You just watched Sam, whose eyes never left you. He just smiled, that cheeky smile that said he had something to hide. Before you could question it, he tilted his head over to the side toward the dining room, forcing your gaze to follow.
Wong stood, rigid, hands tucked behind his back. His robes billowed out down by his feet as he just silently watched you, face unreadable.
It was enough to make you tense, as well as Joaquín, who patted your shoulder this time in comfort.
“He kind of looks like he wants to kill you,” Joaquín whispered in your direction. You only nodded in response, taking a slight step toward the man as you gave him a hesitant smile. A tiny, miniscule nervous laugh fell from your lips.
“Wong…nice to see you?” he hummed in response as you quickly jerked your thumb backwards toward Joaquín. “I promise, whatever it is you think I did, Joaquín is probably the one that did it. I’ve been a perfect angel, no performing spells that I don’t already know.”
“Hey…” Joaquín muttered out behind you, fake-hurt laced in his voice.
Wong stayed silent for a moment before he let out a deep sigh, running a hand down his face. His eyes stayed watching you the entire time.
“You didn’t do anything, though at first, I thought you had. If that was true, we’d be having a much different conversation right now,” the Sorcerer Supreme crossed his arms over his chest, taking in another deep breath. “It’s been a long day, I’ve been dealing with your guests since they entered Earth’s atmosphere. So…I expect a thank you for the fact that I even brought them here and did not send them home immediately.”
Wong was making no sense. Not a single thing he said was registering with you. Earth’s atmosphere? They’d entered it? The only thing you could think of was Carol, but you were pretty sure she was back on Earth permanently at the moment. Plus, why would Wong send Carol of all people away?
Your eyes drifted to Joaquín, who looked just as lost. They drifted then to Sam, who still held that knowing smile, like he was biting back a thousand secrets he was dying to tell you.
Before you could utter a single question, something collided with your leg, wrapping itself around it and latching onto you like it never wanted to let go.
“Auntie!”
The word froze you in place. The feeling on your leg was clear in that moment–two tiny little hands gripping onto the fabric of your suit like their life depended on it. Morgan was the only one who ever called you that. There was only one other person that could–or would–call you that.
And when that thought hit you, your breath caught, and your eyes drifted down to the little body wrapped around your leg.
Your head told you it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be him. But your heart? Your heart knew when you looked at his little body. Taller than the last time you’d seen him, held him. More hair, but still just as blonde. As bright as his mother’s. And those eyes…as blue as the ones he’d inherited, the ones you’d accidentally fallen in love with.
He let go the second you dropped to your knees, eyes level with him now. Your chest felt like it was constricting, like it couldn’t decide if you couldn’t breathe at all or if you were about to start hyperventilating. It was him, you knew it was him. Hands reaching out, cupping his cheeks, a breathless little laugh left your lips in a whisper as he smiled at you through his little gapped toothed smile.
“F-Franklin?” his name just barely made it past your lips. You could feel a sob burning in you, your throat tightening, as he nodded his little head.
“I missed you, auntie,”
Tears finally found their way down your cheeks the second you wrapped him in your arms, tugging his little body into you and holding him as tightly as you possibly could. That sob threatened to escape, hiccuping out of you as Franklin wrapped his arms around your neck, hugging you back. You gripped to the back of his shirt, trying to comprehend it: little Franklin Richards, the little boy you hadn’t held since he was a baby, was here. He was here, on your earth, in your arms.
“I told him to wait and not jump on you, but he really missed his aunt,”
If Franklin almost pulled a sob out of you, this was the end of you. You let go of him, looking over, just to see her standing there: Sue Storm. In those blue and white suits you hadn’t seen in so long. Her hair was longer than it was before, just a tad bit straighter, but it was her. Smiling across the room at you, with that same warm, motherly grin that you hadn’t seen in so long you were beginning to forget the sight of it.
“Sue-!”
Her name had barely left your lips before a sob tore through you. On shaky legs, you practically bolted across the room, throwing yourself into her arms as you simply just let yourself cry without a care in the world. She laughed, her arms coming around your body and holding you back just as tightly, hand running down over the back of your head to smooth your hair as you held onto her.
“I missed you, too,” she said quietly, sweetly, pulling back to wipe the tears that were streaming down your cheeks. She reached down, grabbing your forearm and quickly giving you a pointed look at the bandage wrapped around your arm. “We told you to take care of yourself, remember? This doesn’t look like that.”
You laughed, pulling back to furiously rub at the tears on your face. You could faintly hear Joaquín behind you conversing with Sam, most likely having finally caught on to what was happening.
“If I remember the story correctly, you died at one point, so you don’t get to make comments about a tiny injury,”
“I prefer if we don’t talk about that day,” Reed Richards himself cut in, stepping up beside his wife. Still the same man you remembered, maybe an extra line or two around his face, but a warm smile on his lips none the less as he nodded his head to you. “Good to know it worked and I found the right version of you. You wouldn’t believe how many of you exist in the multiverse.”
You laughed. The brightest, happiest laugh you had let out in what had surely been two years. It was like a weight you hadn’t even realized had been sitting on your chest had finally lifted, like the grey clouds that had invaded every corner of your life had finally cleared away. You reached out, squeezing Reed’s hand as you gave him a watery smile.
“I thought I told you not to invent multidimensional travel?”
“Well, I do like being the first person to do things, so-”
“Alright, alright, quit hogging her! Let me see the girl!”
Ben’s voice commanded the room. Sue and Reed both laughed, parting, letting you practically run through them and straight into Ben’s awaiting arms. His laugh bellowed in your ears as his rocky form enveloped you in a hug, his head resting down on top of yours as he gave you a light squeeze.
“God, Ben, I can’t tell you how much I missed you,”
“I missed you too, little witch,” Ben pulled back, reaching behind him and grabbing something from the table behind him, presenting it in front of you with a large grin. “Don’t worry, I made sure to bring you the good stuff.”
You laughed the second you saw the logo on the paper bag: Maisie’s.
With one of Ben’s hands still resting against your shoulders, you turned back to Sue and Reed. Franklin was back in his father’s arms, messing with the edges of his suit, and something about just looking at them all in front of you, to seeing Sam and Joaquín smiling and watching the entire thing in the background, just filled you with a feeling that you hadn’t known for quite some time.
Not since you’d lost them, the people you had called your first family. Having all of them in this room, though, it finally brought back that feeling–that feeling of being well and truly home.
“This can’t be permanent,”
Wong’s voice cut through the moment, bringing your attention back to him, along with everyone else in the room. You straightened up, wiping at the tears on your cheeks, nodding your head toward him.
“I know-”
“A week, that’s the best I can give,” Wong cut you off, a sense of urgency in his tone as he spoke. He was making it clear that this could not, in any way, be permanent. No matter how much it would hurt in the end. “I’m still studying your magic and if your extended time in their universe had any lasting effects on the strands of time. In the interest of knowledge, you can have a week, so I can see what effects their presence here has. A week, though. Nothing more.”
You nodded, and Wong continued on. Something about how, if he found that their presence here was affecting the timelines, they’d have to leave immediately. How the fate of the universe, how ensuring that the strands of time themselves stayed intact was more important than anything else. You were barely listening at that point.
It was impossible not to just look at them. To admire in awe at the fact that they were really here. Sue, Reed, Franklin, Ben-
They were missing someone.
Sue’s eyes found yours the second that realization seemed to hit you. And like always, it was as if she knew. A soft smile crossed her face as she simply nodded her head toward the rest of the compound.
“He got curious, went snooping for your room,”
That was all you needed to hear before you took off running, anything else from Wong’s mouth ignored in your haste to get to your room.
The twists and turns of the compound passed by in a blur, your feet pounding down them. You knew them like the back of your hand, it didn’t matter if you couldn’t see anything through the blur of tears covering your eyes with every single step you took.
Your bedroom door was open down the hallway, something it never was when you weren’t here. It was always shut, a habit you had always had for privacy reasons. The soft lighting from the lamp inside spilling out of it and into the hallway, the beams of light crawling across the floor and up the opposite wall. You had to hang onto the edge of the doorframe to fully stop yourself.
There he was.
A sight that made your heart skip a beat, that had your chest clenching at the thought that you were finally–finally–seeing him again. Two years, 730 some days since you had last seen Johnny Storm, and there he was. Standing in your bedroom like he belonged there, like he wasn’t universes away from his own.
His back was turned to you, but you knew him. You knew that blue and white ribbed suit, you knew that blonde hair, and you knew those hands. Those hands that were discarded of their gloves, that were rifling through a stack of papers he’d surely taken off your bedside table.
You knew those papers. Your letters, every single one you’d ever written. The first line of them was memorized, from the first letter, to the last one you’d written.
I still think this exercise is stupid, but I’m going to do it anyway. Joaquín said I moped today, told me I looked like a sad, wet kitten that had been abandoned in an alleyway. I didn’t have it in me to tell him it’s your birthday today.
To be completely honest, I kind of hate you right now. I hate that I’m crying in bed, in the middle of the night, trying to write a stupid letter to you that you’ll never see because I woke up from a dream where you were holding me and I realized how cold reality was without you. It’s not fair. I really hate you for this.
Sam was showing me stupid tweets on his phone today and I saw one that said “I didn’t fall for you, you fucking tripped me.” It made me think of you…you kind of did, in a way.
Today’s my birthday. Sam and Joaquín got me a cake, and then Pepper brought Morgan by so I could have dinner with her. I visited the makeshift grave I made for Wanda. Went to Nat’s and Tony’s, too. And through all of that…I just wanted you. I just miss you. I miss the drive-in, I miss kicking your ass at bowling, I miss dancing at The Regent. I miss you…and I don’t know how to stop. I’m not sure I ever will.
Sam asked me today if I regret falling in love with you, if it’s worth the pain I’ve carried since I had to leave. Without a second thought I told him no, no I don’t regret it. Getting to love you, and be loved by you, is worth any amount of pain I have to endure. Doesn’t mean it sucks any less, though.
As if he could feel you, feel your gaze watching him, Johnny finally turned.
There was no way to describe it. No way to accurately explain the flutter of your heart in your chest, the trail of goosebumps that seemed to travel your skin in seconds, or the utter pull that you felt in your gut to just run into his arms. There wasn’t a book, a song, a movie scene, a single thing in the world that could accurately describe the way in which simply looking into those blue eyes–no longer just a staple of your dreams–had you wanting to break down sobbing while simultaneously dancing across the room.
Johnny Storm wasn’t always the easiest person to read, not when you had first met him. But over time, as you’d let yourself fall in love with the man standing before you, you’d come to understand him better than you feared you understood yourself at times. You could see it all in his face, in his body language: the instant sag in his shoulders, like the weight that had been sitting on your chest had been sitting heavily on him all this time, too. The slight twitch of his lips, the way they curled up into that smirk that you had missed so desperately.
He raised his hands, waving the letters slightly in the air, eyes never leaving you for a second.
“I’m not usually one for telling strong, pretty women what to do,” even just his voice, just hearing it again, had a single tear rolling back down your cheek. Even as his voice was laced with his usual teasing tone, a contrast to the softness he carried in his eyes reserved just for you. Saying that same line, the first thing he’d ever said to you all those years ago. “But it’s not safe to just leave private letters like these sitting around. You never know who might find them.”
“W-Well, I don’t usually have curious blonde men from the ‘60s combing through my personal belongings,” you managed out, wiping at the tears that were silently falling from your cheeks. “Joaquín snooped in here once and found out the hard way why my room is off limits.”
“What, you give him a stern talking to?”
“Hexed his suit for a week so that his wings always did the exact opposite of what he wanted them to,”
His laughter filled the room. Warm, inviting, a sound that felt like a hug. A sound you had missed so dearly. Carefully, he laid the letters back on your bedside table, eyes never leaving you for a moment as he stepped out into the middle of the room.
“That’s my girl,”
Every step you took was shaky, still at war with yourself in your head on how this could be real, as you gingerly stepped into your own bedroom. How they invented multiversal travel, how they were here. How after two whole years of feeling like you left a part of yourself in another dimension, it was finally standing in front of you again.
“This really is real, right?” you asked softly, just a few feet in front of him now.
Johnny hummed, tilting his head slightly, before holding out his hand in front of you. Within a millisecond those familiar flames burst to life, burning bright within his hand. The heat that accompanied them enveloped you, warming your skin. A new set of tears managed to fall at the feeling.
“I hope it’s real,” Johnny shot back, but that teasing tone left his voice quickly. It was replaced with a soft smile, almost a hesitant one, like he was just as scared as you were that somehow this wasn’t real. Somehow, he’d wake up back home to this all having been a dream, and you’d wake up in your room alone again. “I’ve been kind of miserable without you. Really pathetic, if I do say so myself. It’s pretty depressing, I don’t know how they’ve put up with it for two years.”
“It’s not like I’ve been much better. I’ve missed you…so much,” you shot back at him.
“Baby, Reed invented multiversal travel because that’s how sick he was of seeing me mope around. I think we know who missed the other more,”
The flames in his hand died, but it stayed stretched out toward you. An invitation, calling you in.
You ignored it, launching yourself into his arms instead.
Johnny wrapped himself around you, molding and conforming to your body just as you did to him. Like two puzzle pieces that snapped together perfectly. His hands found your waist, curling up your back, splayed out between your shoulder blades and across your lower back. Heat bloomed everywhere his hands touched you as his fingers curled into the fabric of your suit, pressing into your body, pulling you as close as he could physically hold you, but never close enough. You could feel the exhale that left him, that one that felt like relief now that he was holding you again. You understood it all too well.
One of your hands curled into his hair on instinct, feeling the soft strands of blonde between your fingers again, while the other simply clung around his neck as you buried your head as far into his neck as you possibly could force yourself. You took in a deep breath, letting the familiar scent of him wash over you, as another round of cries racked through your body.
Being in his arms again: a feeling that both was overwhelming and made you feel lighter than you had in years.
Johnny’s hand moved itself, leaving a trail of warmth from your upper back, over your arm, and up the side of your neck until he fully cupped your face within his hand. Pulling you back just slightly so he could see you, tears stained cheeks and all, you leaned into that hand, into that warmth, chasing after the feeling. Your eyes met his for just a moment before you surged forward, stealing from him the kiss you’d dreamt about for the last two years.
Shaky breaths mingled together, intertwining in the lack of space between your bodies and Johnny’s lips devoured you in a way that had your knees threatening to buckle beneath you. The heat within his touch seemed to climb, burning the feeling of his skin into every piece of you he touched, but you didn’t care. You craved the feeling of it, the fire it lit within you, as your fingers dug into his hair and tugged him as close as possible.
“I love you,” Johnny’s words were mumbled against your lips, never straying far from you. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, biting down just slightly until a moan tumbled from your lips, swallowed by him. The moan that fell from his own matched yours–low and full of longing–as his hips pressed forward, feet shuffling along the ground.
“I love you, too,” you barely managed to mutter out before your back was pressed up against the front of your dresser, caged in by his body. His hands cradled your face, pads of his fingers digging into the nape of your neck as his lips found the hollow of your throat, languishing heated kiss after kiss as your head fell back. Hands gripping at his forearms, the sides of his body, anywhere you could for leverage.
“Kind of the bane of my existence, though,”
It was the first time he’d pulled away enough since your lips found one another for you to see his face. That charming smirk, full of mirth, eyes slightly squinted as he looked down at you. But even through all the bravado that was Johnny Storm, you could see it clear as day in his features, in the way his fingers still flexed and pressed into your skin. He was relishing every second of this, of having you back, just as you were him.
“Bane of your existence?”
“Very much so,” the kiss he stole from you then was lighter, softer, but still just as deep. Still just as full of love. His hands trailed their way down your sides, sending a shiver straight up your spine as they ghosted over your hips, fingertips grazing right over the sides of your thighs as his words were spoken against your lips. “A hot witch from another universe comes and steals my heart and then leaves me pathetically pining for two years. Insane. Absolutely unfair, you should be jailed for these crimes.”
The laughter that fell from you was different, different from what it sounded like these last two years, and you knew it. Lighter, freer, happier than it had been in so long. Genuine.
“You only have yourself to blame, you pursued me!” a shriek tumbled from your lips the second that the words left your mouth, as Johnny’s hands swept under your thighs and hoisted you up on top of your dresser without a care in the world. His hand swept out behind you, sweeping everything sitting on top of the furniture out of the way as you laughed, quickly trying to stop him and grab the frames he was knocking over before they could break. “Johnny! You can’t just mess up my room!”
“I’m just trying to kiss my girl,” the shit-eating grin on his face could be felt against your skin as he pressed yet another kiss to your cheek, moving down to lavish them along the line of your jaw.
“You can kiss me without destroying priceless photographs,”
He hummed, the sound vibrating against your skin, before he plucked the frame from your hands that you were still clutching onto. You watched as he pulled back, inspecting the photo in the frame, eyebrow raising quizzically as he turned it toward you.
“You’re holding up a middle finger and the man next to you looks like he’s screaming in terror–this is a priceless photo?”
“When it’s one of the first photos I ever took with Tony, yes,” you plucked it from his hands, gently tossing it across the room onto your bed so it was as far from Johnny as it could be. The look you shot at him was unimpressed, but nothing could keep the smile from your lips. “I’ve had you back for all of five minutes and you’ve already managed to get on my nerves.”
“I haven’t been able to annoy you daily for 17,520 hours,” Johnny shot back before he pressed in closer. Your legs parted just slightly on instinct, making space for him between them as he invaded every inch of your personal space. “Making up for lost time.”
The playfulness of the moment dissipated in that moment as his hand came back up, curling around your cheek to cradle you in his palm. You leaned into the feeling, eyes never leaving his, as his thumb drew circles back and forth across your skin. His eyes visibly softened, that smirk falling into a smile as he watched you.
“That’s a lot of hours,” you shot back softly, turning your head just barely to place a light kiss to the palm of his hand. “You've been keeping track?”
“Every day since you walked through the gold, sparkly portal,” you hummed in response, finger curling into one of the belt loops of his suit as you tugged him in closer. His eyes trailed down, taking in your own suit, a low whistle leaving his lips. “All this time later and–yeah–it’s still true, this suit is still doing it for me. God damn.”
Your laughter filled the air again as you tugged him in, chasing after another kiss that neither of you were able to stop smiling into, even as you nipped lightly at the reddened skin of his bottom lip.
“Maybe you’re right, maybe you are pathetically in love,”
“Unequivocally,” his answer was easy, rolling off his tongue without a second thought. “And maybe a little irrevocably.”
“That’s a big word for you, Johnny, don’t hurt yourself,” you shot back, his fingers pinching into your sides as a cascade of laughter fell from your lips.
Love. It was a feeling you didn’t need to describe, and honestly, you weren’t sure you could if you tried. You could explain the way you loved Joaquín like a brother, or the way you loved Wanda like a sister, or even Sam, Tony, or Steve like they were family. But the way you loved Johnny Storm? You couldn’t explain that, not in a thousand years, but you didn’t need to. You didn’t want to.
When he looked at you like he did now, with that light smile playing at his lips, face still twinged with the same nerves he had that day on the rooftop, you just knew. Loving him made sense in a way that nothing else ever had.
Like a well oiled machine, like you understood one another without having to speak, you crashed into one another again. Your hands were back in his hair, combing through those blonde stands, while his hands settled on your waist, digging into your sides as they held you close. That heat fluttered through you, that familiar one of his, as your lips moved against his in a tango, leg curling up around his hip higher to keep him as close as physically possible.
“Sam said that he’ll have the food done–JESUS CHRIST, DUDE!”
The sound of Joaquín’s voice at your door didn’t even deter you. You didn’t jump back, you barely even pulled away from Johnny at all. If anything, you gave him a single inch of space before turning your head to shoot Joaquín a murderous glare.
“Yes, Joaquín?”
“What–dude, I get you missed your boyfriend, but if you’re going to fuck him, can you shut the door?”
Johnny’s forehead fell to your shoulder, his entire body shaking with laughter as you kept your glare centered on Joaquín, who was peeking through his fingers as if terrified he’d see something he didn’t want to see.
“We weren’t there yet, don’t worry,” Johnny shot back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before pulling back, a mischievous grin in your sights. “We learned our lesson about locking doors for that.”
“You mean that one time when Ben walked in because he wanted me to try a new cookie from Maisie’s, but you were about to press me up against the window-”
“Oh my god, you two are actually disgusting,” the fake gagging Joaquín did outside the door sent both you and Johnny into your own fit of laughter, still wrapped up in one another. But beyond the theatrics, you could see it on Joaquín’s face. The happiness for you, just seeing you happy, seeing that light back in your eyes. “Look, catch up on two years of physical activities later, Sam made dinner and it looks good as fuck but he won’t let me touch it until you both come downstairs.”
Johnny let out a low whistle, and before you could react, he’d stepped out of your hold completely. Your mouth dropped open in betrayal, lips fighting against curving up into a smile as Johnny shot you an apologetic look, backing out of the doorframe and clapping a hand down on Joaquín’s shoulder.
“Sorry baby, but multiversal travel did make me pretty hungry,” he shot you a wink, hand still grasping Joaquín’s shoulder as he tugged him down the hall, before speaking very dramatically and loudly from down the hall so that you could hear. “Now that we’re nowhere near her, I need you to give me every embarrassing story you’ve got.”
All you could do was laugh at the absurdity that was Johnny Storm, at the man you loved more than you could express. The man who managed to steal your heart while helping heal the wounds you hadn’t been able to close for years, who went on to be one of your hearts biggest wounds, only to close it right back up just by standing in front of you again.
And walking back down the stairs of the compound, and glancing out over that dining room table–Johnny laughing at something that Joaquín said as Sam regaled Ben, Sue, and Franklin with a story, while Wong spoke quietly off to the side with Reed–everything in the world finally felt right.
❤︎
“So, let me make sure I have this right: he was from the ‘40s, he was a stuck up billionaire, he’s a literal god, she was an assassin, and he brought a bow and arrow of all things to fight aliens half the time?”
“Put some respect on Clint’s name, baby. The one time he wasn’t there we did, in fact, lose,” with a short laugh, you reached over and swiped the photo from his hand, sliding it back into its protective sleeve in the binder laid out in front of him at the island counter. “These aren’t the originals, these are magical recreations, so please keep them in the sleeves. Also, you act like I didn’t talk about them all the time?”
“Seeing them is completely different,” respecting your wishes, Johnny didn’t remove the photo, this time instead holding the entire binder up near his head as he pointed toward the super soldier standing beside the young version of you in the photo. “This dude’s bicep is the literal size of my head, and he’s not even made out of rocks like Ben!”
It didn’t surprise you that the first thing that Johnny had dug around your room to find were photos. Most of the original photos, which had decorated the walls of your room in the Upstate New York compound had been destroyed years ago, prior to the final fight with Thanos. Magically recreated and preserved in a photo album you ensured to hex to be fire proof, bomb proof, and truly anything proof, it had become Johnny’s favorite thing over the last 16 hours they’d been in your universe.
From the Battle of New York, to photos you’d taken late at night in New York with Wanda or ones you had snuck of Steve when he wasn’t looking, it was like looking straight into your past. A past that Johnny hadn’t gotten to know, that he clearly adored.
“Well, he was a super soldier,” you chuckled lightly under your breath, turning back to the paperwork laid out in the manila folder in front of you.
Johnny was quiet for a moment, and you snuck a glance over at him. He was still looking at that same photo, taken all those years ago in the aftermath of New York, of Loki’s invasion. There was a softer look in his eyes, though, as he let a single finger trail over the protective layer lying over the photo, right over where you stood.
“You were so young,”
“I was. I was just a kid,” you nodded your head, glancing at the little version of you for a second longer, before focusing back on the papers in front of you. “Dedicated my life to saving the world. It’s all I’ve ever known.”
Johnny didn’t say anything for a moment, and neither did you. Signing your name along the lines that Sam had indicated he needed your signature on, Johnny eventually continued to flip through the photos beside you at the island counter.
“Oh…oh, baby, tell me this is the dress?”
You didn’t have to look over to know what photo Johnny had stumbled upon. Instead, a light laugh left your lips as you looked over at him: red had crawled into his cheeks, his eyes wide as he looked down at the photo. He met your gaze for a single moment, and you could see his eyes dilate in real time.
“We had just found Loki’s scepter, which had the Mind Stone in it, and brought it back to the tower. Tony threw a party in celebration,” you explained, still laughing, as you reached over and tapped on the photo with a smirk across your lips. You were younger, but still you. Standing beside Natasha by the Avengers tower bar in that gorgeous black dress she’d bought for you, the slit on your thigh much too high for your age. “Nat had bought me that dress. To answer your question: yes, that is the one I mentioned.”
A low whistle left Johnny’s lips as he shoved the photo album to the side. His hands found the island chair you were seated on, spinning it before you could stop him and pressing your back into the edge of the counter, paperwork long forgotten. You didn’t mind, though, not when those heated hands found your sides as he stepped up into your space, dilated eyes roaming up and down your figure.
“These 21st century clothes really are going to be the death of me,”
“How do you think I feel?” you shot back, hands traveling up the bare skin of his arms until they caught the edges of the t-shirt sleeves handing around his biceps. Adorned in a t-shirt you’d stolen from Joaquín’s closet, as well as jeans and shoes you’d quickly ran to the local mall early in the morning to procure (along with clothing for the rest of the team), it was unfair how good Johnny Storm looked in clothing decades removed from his own. “21st century men’s fashion suits you. You should bring some back with you.”
“Nah, this stuff isn’t fireproof like my own clothes,” he shot back, lips pulled up on the edges into a soft smirk. Johnny leaned in, breath fanning out over your lips as, but never quite touching. “Besides, the only 21st century thing I care about is my 21st century girl.”
Another laugh left you, hands trailing up his arm until it cupped the heated skin of his cheek. You pinched at the skin lightly, giggling once more at the exaggerated wince he gave.
“Cheesy, Storm. Where’s that effortless charm? Have you gone soft these last few years?”
“Oh, darling,” fingers flexed against your hips, lips practically pressed to yours as he spoke. “I went soft the second you kissed me on the rooftop.”
A sigh of pure contentment fell from your lips the second Johnny fully surged forward, bringing you into a kiss. Soft, sweet, as if he was pouring every ounce of love he couldn’t show you for the last two years into it. It differed from every kiss you’d shared since that dinner the night before, the ones full of desperation and longing, the ones that seemed to consume you whole and fill your mind with nothing but thoughts of Johnny Storm.
You clung to him, lightly wet lips moving against his: slow, sensual, soft. His hands curled around to your back, pressing against your spine to bring you in as close as he could, though you weren’t sure there would ever be anything quite close enough. You let your hand thread back into his hair, tugging lightly to elicit a groan from his lips, head tilting to the side for a new angle as Johnny pressed forward more.
“Oh my god, were rounds one through five not enough for the two of you last night?”
Ben’s groans sounded through the living room, forcing you and Johnny apart. He didn’t let you stray far, arms staying locked around your waist and body still pressed into your personal space as you both tilted your heads in the direction of the others, just now walking into the room.
“You brought him to my universe because he was moping, and now that we’re together you all keep complaining,” you shot back at Ben with a teasing lit to your voice, able to see his eyeroll from across the room. “That’s so hypocritical of you.”
“In all fairness,” Sam’s voice shot in as he walked into the room, flanked by Sue and Reed as they donned their own 21st century clothing. “It was a bit overkill after round 2. I thought my ears were going to start bleeding.”
“Told you you should’ve put a spell on the room so they couldn’t hear us,”
Johnny’s comment, and subsequent nip at your earlobe, earned him another laugh and a shove against his chest. A small burst of blue magic from your hand sent him stumbling backwards, giving you enough space to hop off the chair and collect the paperwork on the counter behind you, stalking over to Sam to hand it to him in the living room.
Sam hummed, flipping through the paperwork to ensure everything was signed as needed. Johnny launched himself over the back of the living room couch, landing beside his nephew and ruffling his hair, as the others all settled into spots on the couch themselves.
“Looks in order,” Sam shot you a grateful nod, before passing over the data pad in his hands. The screen instantly lit up, flipping through multiple surveillance photos as you projected it onto the living room screen. “Had an informant send these over about an hour ago, wanted you to take a look and tell me what it looks like to you.”
“Looks to me like Sidewinder got out of jail early,” you shot back easily, flipping through the surveillance images across the screen. “Escaped, more like it. It probably didn’t take him long to find out we recovered those files yesterday. Seems like a simple enough job for you and Joaquín to handle.”
With the data pad placed back in Sam’s hands, you turned to face Johnny. His eyes trailed from the screen full of images back to you, raising an eyebrow in your direction.
“Please, don’t stop your day job just because we’re here,” he shot at you, along with a wink, holding his hands up beside him. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you go full superhero mode. I’m sure that suit looks real good in action-”
A wave of transparent energy flew across the room, the slight hues of the rainbow visible as the invisible field of energy slammed into Johnny’s shoulder, jolting him to the side. You covered your mouth to conceal your laughter, as did Sam, as Ben and Reed laughed at the look on Johnny’s face as he shot his sister an unimpressed look.
“Do you ever stop objectifying her?”
“It’s not objectifying her, it’s admiring her many assets,”
You shook your head, stalking out of the room with a grin to unplug your phone from its place on the kitchen counter. The sound of the others groaning floated through the room, along with Sam’s laughter.
“She’s relieved from superhero duty for the week while you guys are here, unless another purple alien decides to try and destroy the world,” the look you shot Sam over your shoulder was anything but impressed. He ignored it, though, shooting Johnny a smirk. “Joaquín and I can handle Sidewinder without her. Besides…it’s date night for you.”
By the time Johnny had fully turned in your direction, you were standing beside the island counter with a sly smile on your face. He didn’t get a single word out before that usual glow of blue enveloped your hand, and you gave a single flick of your wrist in the air beside you.
The room was practically bathed in energy and in the hues of blue that encompassed your magic as it essentially tore into the area, a long streak of pulsing magic hanging in the air beside you. With another flick of your wrist, it tore itself open, widening as a pulsing magic portal hung in the air.
Multiple pairs of eyes and smiles watched as Johnny crossed the room, staring at the shimmering blue magic in awe. His feet came to a stop just in front of you, his hand reaching out as he let his fingers drift right through the magic. Those blue eyes found yours, head tilting to the side slightly as a grin crossed his lips.
“Magic portals…that’s a new development,”
“It’s amazing what you learn to do when you actually read and learn from a book, instead of blindly performing a spell,” Johnny laughed lightly as you reached forward, poking him just slightly in the side, as you stepped closer to the portal itself. “Come on, like Sam said: it’s date night.”
That grin grew cheeky, Johnny’s eyebrows furrowing slightly as he hummed, nodding his head.
“Right, date night. Thought that was my job to plan the dates?”
“This isn’t the 60s, baby,” you shot back immediately. Reaching forward, you let your hand wind itself into the fabric of his t-shirt, before you stepped back through the portal and tugged him along with you before he could say another word.
Wind immediately whipped around your face, a familiar sensation, as the quiet of the D.C. compound was replaced with the hustle and bustle of the city. Johnny stumbled forward, feet stumbling as you laughed, holding onto his arms to keep him upright as he practically fell through the portal and to your side. His own hands gripped right back on your forearms, steadying himself as the portal snapped shut right behind you both with a flick of your fingers.
Johnny’s blue eyes were wide as he looked at you, before looking at the now closed portal behind him, and back to you once again. It was impossible not to laugh at the adorably shocked look on his face.
“I’m afraid you have to take us back,” was the first thing he said, hands leaving your arms to slide down onto your hips instead, tugging you against him. “I’ve warned you how incredibly hot using your powers is to me. That-That was unfair.”
“It was a portal, Johnny,”
“Still hot, my overpowered little witch,” his fingers pinched at your sides, eliciting another laugh out of you as you whacked lightly at his chest. The wind continued to whip around you both as Johnny squinted at the feeling of the air hitting his face. “Where the hell did you even take us?”
“Well,” you took a single step back, letting your hands find his own and lace your fingers through his. “I spent a year getting to know your New York. Thought you might want to see mine.”
It was then that Johnny turned his head, and you could see it in his eyes immediately: the awe at the sight laid out before you both.
New York was beautiful, in your world and his, but nothing quite compared to New York City as the sun was setting. Situated on the rooftop of a building down 8th Avenue, the entirety of the city skyline was laid out before you both. The oranges and pinks of the setting sun glinted off of every building, reflecting right back along Johnny’s face as he took a step toward the edge of the building, eyes still wide as he took in the sight.
You couldn’t tear your eyes from him. At the cascading colors that fell over his face. Every moment you looked at him, it was impossible not to think about how you had gotten to this moment. Crash landing in a universe so different, yet similar, to your own and his face being the first thing you saw. His face being the first thing you saw through every high and low moment for an entire year. The face of the man you didn’t mean to fall in love with, but stole your heart somewhere between late night breakfast and a drive-in movie.
“You know, I think you’re supposed to be looking at the skyline. Even if my face could be considered the eighth wonder of the world,”
Johnny’s voice snapped you out of your reminiscing, of your mind wandering over every second of the last three years of your life. His eyes were back on you, one hand still laced with yours, that soft yet cocky smirk on his lips. You rolled your eyes.
“That might be a bit of a stretch,” his hand left yours as you slotted yourself into his side without hesitation, curling around him. His hand came up to rest around your waist, and you could almost feel the way that he pushed some of his heat through his skin and into you as the cool, night air began to slowly set in. “I used to look at this skyline every day from this exact spot.”
You pointed off in the distance, and Johnny followed your finger toward the building you knew so well. It had lost the color it used to have, lost the giant glowing “A” that hung from the helicopter pad, but you recognized it all the same. All this time later and it was still the same structure, the same place you used to call home. Johnny gave a low whistle at the sight.
“Your old home might rival the Baxter Building,” his words were mumbled into the side of your head as he placed a kiss there gently, a feeling that all this time later could still send a cascade of butterflies crazy deep within your chest. “Is that what date night is? A sightseeing tour of the city I already live in?”
His comment earned him a pinch to the side, which earned you one in retaliation.
“Not entirely. I didn’t really have a plan, to be honest,” tilting your head back to look up at him, you gave him a tiny shrug in response. “I just…wanted to be with you.”
“Missed me that much?” he teased, even as his hand came up to cup your cheek, thumb gliding over the skin.
“More than I think I could ever explain,”
Your two New York Cities weren’t all that different, not once you were walking the streets down below and not up on the rooftops. Unlike Johnny’s, your own lacked the futuristic advancements and stylized buildings, but almost everything else laid out the same. The roads, where the buildings lay, even the colors of many of them.
The people were different. From the clothing, to the attitudes, those who walked the streets in your New York were vastly different from the ones who walked Johnny’s. Johnny Storm and the Fantastic Four could walk from Upper to Lower Manhattan and only be stopped a handful of times. The people of their world treated them like people, like normal citizens who could come and go as they pleased. You, on the other hand, were a spectacle. You were something to gawk at for those that recognized you, someone that they treated like a celebrity. It was something you tried to ignore, even if it felt impossible at times.
Hand resting in the crook of Johnny’s arm, you laughed as he took a sip of the boba tea you’d forced into his hands, begging him to try it. You watched him every second he held it, with every sip, as he too tried to decipher how he felt about the drink as groups walked past you on the sidewalks of the city as the sun fully set and the night set in.
“It’s not terrible,” Johnny finally came to a conclusion, passing the drink over to you so that you could take a sip from it as well. He wiggled his hand back and forth in a ‘so-so’ motion as he explained his thoughts. “It’s pretty sweet. Not sure how I feel about the little, floating balls at the bottom.”
“Tapioca pearls, Johnny,” you giggled back, taking a final sip of the drink before tossing it into one of the trash cans lining the sidewalk. “Pretty sure it was invented in the 80s, which is why you’ve never heard of it before.”
“I take you go-karting and to a dance hall, and you get me a chewy drink. I think I might have to give you a failing grade so far on this date,” your elbow dug into his side as he laughed, elbowing you right back. It grew quiet between you both for a moment, before he spoke up once more. “I went back there once, last year. To The Regent.”
You watched him as he spoke. That soft smile on his face, the fond one, as he reminisced. Looked back on the years without you, let you in on the memories.
“What was it like?”
“Felt empty,” he said simply, looking down at you with a shrug of his own. “It was the anniversary of our first date, I had refused to go the year before. Sue thought it could be good for me to go back, to think about the happy memories. But standing in there, without my pretty little witch on my arm, it felt like that whole place had lost its magic.”
It wasn’t hard to understand where he was coming from. You felt it too, in everything you’d done the last two years. The absence of him was loud.
“I woke up from a nightmare one time and couldn't fall back asleep. Joaquín found me at three in the morning attempting to make a milkshake in the compound kitchen,” Johnny’s eyes stayed locked with yours as you spoke. Even as a group of young adults, obviously in a rush to get somewhere for the night, shoved past you both. Even then, as their bodies collided with his shoulder, he never looked away from you. Hung off every word you spoke. “He thought I was insane, especially because I’d fucked up with the blender so badly there was ice cream everywhere. Told him about that one night at Griddles and Waffles, told him it was the only thing that seemed to help after nightmares.”
Johnny nodded, giving a low whistle. That soft smile on his face turned up into a smirk, his eyebrows wiggling as he leaned his head in closer to yours.
“If we’re going to make this a competition about which one of us was more pathetic the last two years, you might win-”
“As if!” you shot back with a laugh immediately, letting go of his arm to shove him to the side. Johnny laughed, his body bouncing back to your side immediately as you pointed a finger at him. “Ben told me this morning that you spent your birthday in that sweater that I bought for you!”
“It’s the softest thing! A pure cashmere sweater, bought for me by the love of my life. Sue me for enjoying the feel of it,”
You laughed again. Warm, genuine, one of the realest laughs you’d let out in years. It didn’t feel forced, you didn’t feel like you were trying to put on a show and pretend to me fine. You felt fine. You felt happy for the first time in so long.
Johnny’s hand was laced back in yours within seconds, and it never left it as you wandered the streets aimlessly. There was no objective in mind, there was just him. Just endless hours, endless possibilities, with just him at your side.
The streets gave way to the lush greenery of the park nestled between the high rise buildings. The trees rustled in the nighttime breeze. Leaves that had fallen to the ground crunched under your feet, breaking into a thousand little pieces as they broke apart. The sounds of the city could still be heard, bouncing between the buildings, but it was quiet. An elderly couple was walking the other end of the park together, a young family was just leaving the park, but other than them it was quiet.
Not much about the park was different, not since the last time you stood in it. The path was still paved in light grey concrete. The statue in the middle was the same, the edges of it decorated with different bushes and flowers than before. Benches still lined the area, illuminated by the soft light of the lamps surrounding the path. It felt like it had that night, three years ago.
You let Johnny’s hand slip from your own as you came to a stop, right in that same place in front of the statue you had been years ago. Johnny didn’t stop you, taking a few steps further along the path, simply looking around and admiring the sights of the falling leaves, of the buildings all around, before he finally turned back to look at you. Standing just feet away, in the same spot he was all those years ago. A smile seemed to cross his lips as he realized exactly where you both were, throwing his arms out to the side exaggeratedly.
“I’d prefer not to hurt you, doll,” it was impossible not to laugh at the performance that he was putting on, at the tone of his voice as he spoke. The most dramatic rendition of your first meeting, which had already been dramatic enough. Careful not to burn his non-fireproof clothing, Johnny lit just his hand on fire. “So why don’t we do this peacefully and you just come with me?”
In the same way you had all those years ago, you flicked your fingers, encasing his hand in that wall of blue magic. And years ago when you’d done it, he’d freaked out, tried everything to get it to go away.
This time? His eyes never left yours, full of nothing but love and adoration.
“No use trying, pretty boy,” you shot back, softer than the first time you’d ever said it. With another flick of your fingers, that magic dissipated with ease.
Johnny shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, taking a step closer to you. You took a set along the concrete wall surrounding the park’s statue behind you, crossing your legs out in front of you as you simply watched him. The way he bounced on the balls of his feet, the smile that never seemed to leave his face since the moment he’d seen you again.
“Pretty sure after that I made a comment about being turned on,”
“Oh, you did,” you laughed, shaking your head at the memory. Johnny sat down along the wall beside you as you turned your body to face him, poking a finger into his chest. “And for some reason, it worked on me.”
Before you could pull your hand away, he caught it in his own. Those blue eyes you adored never left yours as Johnny gingerly brought your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the pad of your finger, before pressing another one gently along your knuckles.
“Why…why does everything feel right the second I have you back?”
The question was heavy, holding the weight of a thousand things with it. In the quiet of the night, you let your fingers stretch out in his hold, ghosting over his cheek and jawline. He let his hand slip down to your wrist, keeping a hold on you, as you let yourself caress the skin beneath your fingertips.
“I don’t know,” it was the only answer you could give. “All I know is I meant what I said all those years ago. You’re my home, just as much as this earth is.”
Johnny smiled, turning his head for a moment to press a kiss to the inside of your wrist, sending a flurry of soft heat through your skin and your veins themselves.
“What if we just tell the multiverse to fuck off?” The laugh you let out was soft, and Johnny’s own matched it. “No, seriously. Why does the universe get to tell us if we can be together? What if I’ve already decided that you’re it for me.”
“Because it put us in two different universes, Johnny. There’s no correcting that, as much as we want to. Not when us jumping between earths could alter the fabric of reality itself,”
“You spent a year with me, you’ve been back here for two, and the multiverse hasn’t fallen apart…as far as I know,” you shook your head, even as his hands took yours between them, letting them fall into your lap. “You came into my life and you fucked it up, baby. There is no amount of time, there is no multiversal distance, that will ever change the fact that I love you. I don’t care what the multiverse wants–I don’t care about the multiverse at all–or what fate and destiny want, I want you.”
Your lips quirked up on the side just slightly, into the tiniest of smiles. Fingers clutched between his hands, you let the pads of your fingers draw little circles into the soft skin of his palm.
“That’s selfish,”
“Don’t we deserve to be selfish?” he shot back. “The battle in New York, against the greasy haired god you always told me about–how old were you?”
“Honestly, I couldn’t tell you. Young. Too young, truly-”
“Exactly,” Johnny shifted, his face becoming serious. But you could see it in his features, those same nerves you’d seen on him before. The bobbing of his Adam’s apple, the way his hands fidgeted against your own. “You have dedicated your entire life to the people of your world, just like we did when we came back with cosmically altered DNA. That doesn’t mean we have to sacrifice everything, the things and the people we want, for them too.”
A sigh left your lips, your eyes trailing down to his hands. Watching the way his fingers fidgeted, the way the veins of his hands strained as he clenched up with every passing moment.
It wasn’t like you hadn’t thought about it. Defying Wong, performing the spell you now knew how to perform so you could see him again. Taking off to their world, but this time, never coming back. But you loved what you did, you loved being a hero. For all this world had taken from you, it was still your home, still held people that you loved and cherished and needed. But you needed Johnny Storm as much as you needed them too.
“I’ve thought about it,” you spoke after a moment of silence. “I told you that the next time I saw you, I wouldn’t let you go. That we wouldn’t have to leave each other again. But you have a duty to your world, and I have a duty to mine. The stars have told us no, as much as I wish they’d tell us yes.”
Johnny grew quiet, those blue eyes never leaving yours, as you simply sat together. Holding hands, staring at one another, and letting the weight of the words settle between you both.
“Close your eyes,”
You didn’t argue. Your eyelids fluttered shut without another word, plunging you into darkness. Johnny’s hands left yours. You could hear the shuffling of fabric, the sound of a tiny chain rattling, before those warm hands hovered around your neck, the feel of a cool chain hitting your skin as his hands found their way back to his lap.
When you opened your eyes again, they landed on the silver chain now lying around your neck. It was the end of that chain that caught your eye, allowing what hung from the end to lie in your hand as you brought it closer, rolling it around in your fingers.
A simple silver band. A sparkling diamond, shaped into a square, resting in the middle. Smaller diamonds encrusted the band on either side of the main little gem, glinting in the soft moonlight of the park at night.
A wedding ring.
“It was our mother’s,” your eyes drifted back up to him, mouth hung open slightly in awe as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. His own were locked on the ring between your fingers, a soft grin stretched across his lips. “Before I found out that Reed invented time travel, Sue asked me if I’d ask you if she gave me her ring. I told her yes.”
“Johnny-”
“We have duties to our worlds as superheroes, I know. I’m not asking…as much as I want to,” his hands came up to cup around yours, the one still holding the ring, as his eyes found yours again. It felt as if the wind had been knocked from your chest, your lungs unable to draw in the air needed to breathe. “I just need you to have it, because there’s no one else that I’d ever give it to. Universe be damned, you are it for me, sweetheart. And if we can’t be together, I just need you to know that I am still 100%, unequivocally and irrevocably, yours.”
The tears that threatened to fall did in that moment, cascading down your cheeks and leaving a wet trail behind them. Johnny’s fingers caught them before they could fall too far, wiping them away.
“I-I don’t know,” were the first words you spoke after a moment of silence, of letting your tears fall. A watery smile grew on your lips, hints of a teasing tone finding their way into your voice. “What if the Silver Surfer comes back some day and professes her undying love for you?”
Johnny made a small hissing sound, squinting his eyes as he thought about it for a moment. He nodded them, giving you an apologetic smile that was threatening to let laughter break through as he let his fingers take hold of the chain around your neck again.
“Actually, that’s a great point. Maybe I should take this back-”
You launched yourself into him, lips colliding with his in a flurry of laughter from you both. Kiss after kiss you laid onto his lips was reciprocated in kind, the hands around your waist holding you firmly against him as you let your hands travel every piece of skin of his you could possibly touch. The smiles on your faces never faded, not through every move of lips against lips, or every kiss seared into skin.
Neither of you moved until the late hours of the morning, time spent right there in Johnny Storm’s arms as you recounted to one another every possible thing you could think of: dinners with Morgan, appearances on Ted Gilbert’s show, conferences with nations, one of Reed’s new designs knocking out the city’s power for an entire week.
That ring laid against your chest, feeling as if it was burning a hole through your sternum with every passing minute though, Johnny’s words never quite leaving your head.
Don’t we deserve to be selfish?
❤︎
A week wasn’t enough. You knew it the moment Wong said it. Seven whole days with Reed Richards, Franklin Richards, Ben Grimm, Sue Storm, and Johnny Storm would never be enough.
You made the most out of every single day, though. Of all 168 hours that you were gifted with the people who had become family to you.
Morgan Stark adored them, just as you knew she would. She had often asked you over the last two years to recount stories for her, to tell her about the man who could set himself on fire and the man who could stretch his body to his will. The second you’d strolled up to the door of the familiar cabin and she’d burst through the door, excitedly calling out the names of the people she’d only heard stories about, before dragging Franklin off to show him something in her room full of toys, you knew just how much she adored them. Getting to watch her drag Johnny outside and force him to play ‘heroes and villains’ with her was also the most adorable sight you’d ever seen.
Ben had found a comparable bakery to Maisie’s nestled in Hell’s Kitchen. It would never beat Maisie’s, you knew that, but you also could see the look of disbelief on Ben’s rocky face the second he’d bit into one of their world famous chocolate chip cookies.
Reed loved all the technology, fascinated by the advancements that your world had compared to theirs, even if some of their own technology surely rivaled the power of your own. He asked so many questions you were sure Sam’s head was going to explode at one point, taking both his wings and Joaquín’s wings to mess with them, trying to understand their mechanics and how they were built. The conversation surrounding vibranium had a look on Reed’s face that said he was determined to discover if their own universe hosted any deposits of the metal.
Sue just wanted to know the history. She wanted to know all your world had been through, all you had been through. Luckily for her, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, the debut exhibition that chronicled the entire story of The Avengers, had opened just months prior in the heart of New York. You’d walked them through it, through the photos and mementos on display and the memories: the battle against Loki, Sokovia and Ultron, the downfall of the Avengers, all the way to the arrival and defeat of Thanos. Sam took every opportunity to throw in an embarrassing story pertaining to you.
Johnny? He didn’t care for any of it. Not the cities, not the history, not a single thing besides you. There wasn’t a moment of any day where he willingly left your side. A warm hand resting on the small of your back, or curled around your hip rubbing circles into your skin, or fingers laced between your own. He was glued to your side, even if he had his moments where he was more like a thorn in it, unwillingly to let you out of his sight. Those crystal blue eyes were the first thing you saw every morning, and the last thing you saw every night, and there was nothing else that mattered to you than that.
You had filled those seven days with as much love for the Fantastic Four as they’d spent a year showing you. But through every moment, that lingering thought that when your time was up they’d have to leave again never left your mind. It had buried itself there, unwilling to move, constantly reminding you that your time with them was finite. That no matter how much you loved them, no matter how much you loved Johnny, he simply couldn’t be yours.
That ring still felt as if it was burning a hole into your sternum every time you thought about it.
“All systems are go for launch,”
Those were the words you had been dreading to hear. Standing in a field in Upstate New York, not entirely far from the ground that had held your former home, the compound, the Excelsior was uncloaked from the spell that Wong had put over it. It stood tall, the light of the sun glinting off of it, and all it did was fill you with dread.
Sam’s hand rested comfortingly against your back, rubbing soft circles into your muscles that were tensed tight, threatening to snap. The breath you took shuddered, your entire body shaking, as you saw them: Ben, Sue with Franklin on her hip, and Johnny stepped out of the ship and back onto the grass, wearing those white and blue spacesuits of theirs you’d never had the privilege of seeing in person. Reed stood not far from you, conversing with Wong in hushed tones, as the others made their way toward the area in which you stood.
“Don’t go crying on me now, witchy,” Joaquín shot at you, his tone teasing but still light, as he bumped his hip into your otherside. You spared him a single glance, the nail of your thumb resting between your teeth as the nerves radiated off of you. “You’ve been so vibrant–so fun–this last week, I don’t want to have the depressed version of you back.”
“Wow, you really do have a way with words,” Sam muttered just loud enough for the three of you to hear, shaking his head at Joaquín’s words. His hands traveled to your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “At least you got to see them again.”
Johnny’s eyes locked with yours as they fell into step beside Reed, all walking in your direction now.
“All so I could lose them again…as if I haven’t lost enough,” was all you could manage to say.
Reed shook hands with both Joaquín and Sam, thanking them for their hospitality over the last week. The pair thanked him back, wishing him safe travels, before moving on to Ben standing behind him.
Your eyes locked with Reed’s as he stepped up in front of you.
“It’s been nice seeing you again,” his voice was quiet, firm, as he gave you a small smile. “It was nice to see Johnny so…not mopey.”
His words gained a short laugh from you, along with a shake of your head.
“Just don’t go inventing any other forms of dimensional travel,” you shot at him lightly with a grin of your own. “I don’t want to hear that you went dimension hopping.”
Laughter was shared between both of you for a moment. Reed’s arms opened, and you stepped into them without hesitation. That burn in your eyes appeared almost instantly the second he wrapped his arms around you.
You let yourself sit in his hold for a moment, taking it in, as he muttered his next words right by the curve of your ear.
“I’ll see you soon,”
Reed pulled away without another word. Just a simple nod of his head before he backed away to stand off to the side. Your eyes followed him, a question hanging from your lips as your head cocked to the side at his words, but Ben was quick to saddle up to you and pull you into a crushing hug before you could.
“I fear bringing flame brain here was a terrible idea…I feel like he’s just going to mope more when we get home,”
You laughed, pulling back to look at the man before you with a wide grin, one that matched his own. With a pat to his shoulder, your smile fell just slightly as your mind drifted, eyes darting back to his.
“You told me once that the people I love will be waiting for me back home, no matter how long it took me to get there,” Ben nodded as you spoke those words he’d told you so long ago in the kitchen of the Baxter Building. “Will you guys be waiting for me, even if…if I can never get there?”
Ben’s smile softened, his rocky hand coming up to cup the side of your head. Stroking over your hair lightly, he gave you a tiny nod.
“You’ll find your way back to us, kid, I know it. I’m not sure there’s anything in this universe that could stop you from getting back to him,”
Those words hung with you for a moment as Ben stepped away, joining Reed in the distance. There was no reprieve from the goodbyes, not when Sue stepped up in front of you, adjusting Franklin on her hip.
A shuddering sigh fell from your lips, those tears burning once again in your eyes. Lip quivering, you laughed, unable to find the words to say as you fumbled to find the right thing to say.
“I-I don’t even know what to say,”
Sue only smiled, reaching forward and tugging you into a hug. You reciprocated without a second thought, wrapping your arms around both her and Franklin, the little boy’s arm slotting itself around your neck in a tight hug. The first tear finally fell at that moment.
“Thank you for loving him,” her voice spoke softly, just loud enough for you to hear. You pulled away, wiping at the tears on your cheeks as you gave her a watery smile.
“It’s a privilege, even if he’s a pain in my ass,” you shared a laugh, before you turned your gaze over to Franklin. The little frown on his face, the tears that were pooling in his own red rimmed eyes. He leaned into the hand you brought up to cup his cheek, pinching at the skin. “Hey buddy.”
“Hi auntie,” his voice broke a little bit as he spoke, and god you were terrified that was going to be what broke the dam holding back most of your tears. Pulling your hand back, you let a little ball of magic roam over your fingers again, watching the way the blue light lit up his face, illuminating that little smile it was able to bring to his lips for a split second. “I love you.”
You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead, a single tear slipping down your cheek as you did so.
“I love you too, buddy,”
You weren’t ready to stand in front of Johnny Storm again. You weren’t ready to say goodbye. But the moment was here, and there was no running from it.
There were no tears this time. Not like the day you left, not like when you both cried into each other's arms, promising that it wasn’t a goodbye.
“Earth-616 is alright,” Johnny quipped. You could see the difference in him, though. It wasn’t the overconfident cockiness and teasing tone you were used to. It was more subdued, more quiet. “It’s got nothing on our earth, though.”
You laughed, those tears burning in your eyes, but this time refusing to fall.
“Sorry to disappoint. Did it have any redeeming qualities?”
“Just the one. It’s this pretty little witch that I still think put a love spell on me. I wish I could take her with me…”
No, this time was different. This time felt like a goodbye.
You stepped into Johnny’s arms without another word, curling around him. He did the same, glove covered hands cradling the back of your head as he pressed kiss after kiss to your forehead: soft, gentle, loving. You shut your eyes, basking in the feeling, wishing to stay in that moment for the rest of time.
“I really do want to be selfish,” you muttered out, eyes still shut as your hands curled into the fabric of his space suit. Johnny’s laugh was light, reverberating against your skin as he kissed your forehead again.
“You won’t be. There’s not a selfish bone in your body, unlike me,” one of his hands slid down to the back of your neck, tilting your head back just enough that when your eyes popped open, you were looking up at his smiling face. “Guess we’re just destined to be star-crossed lovers.”
You made a face of disgust, a giggle falling from your lips as you shook your head.
“Absolutely not. That’s, like, Romeo and Juliet type shit,”
“Weren’t they madly in love like us?”
“Yeah, but star-crossed lovers always end in tragedy. You know…like those two dying?”
“Hm, that’s a good point,” Johnny’s grin grew, his gloved hand rubbing back and forth against the skin of your neck. “Soulmates, then.”
Soulmates. A trivial word, a cliche one, a word you had never really thought of until Johnny Storm had just uttered it between you both.
Your love for him hadn’t appeared at first sight. It sunk into you with every passing moment, with every chance you got to see behind the curtain at the man behind the Human Torch. A love that had rooted itself so deeply inside of you that you knew you’d never love someone else the same way. A love that came so suddenly and unexpectedly, in the height of everything you’d ever lost. Your family, your best friend, your home was all torn away from you in a matter of years to the point where you felt lost. You’d lost little pieces of yourself along the way. Until you’d crash landed in that park, and Johnny Storm waltz into your life with an arm on fire, and helped you rebuild new pieces for the ones you had lost.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, but right on time.
You took one of his hands in yours, grasping that gloved hand in your bare palms. Your eyes never left him as you laid that hand right over the center of your chest, so he could feel the beat of your heart right underneath the diamond ring, still dangling on that chain tucked under your clothes. His hands curled in on itself slightly, grasping at that ring, as a bright smile lit up your face.
“Soulmates,”
You crashed into one another without another word, lips finding lips, falling into the feel of one another again. His hand curled around your waist to tug you as close as humanly possible, the other never moving from the outline of that ring. Yours curled into his hair, lips moving desperately against his as you tried to memorize every single bit of him: the soft skin of his lips, the warmth that bloomed under his skin, the feel of every strand of blonde hair between your fingers.
It was only when air was fighting to enter both of your lungs that you finally parted. Foreheads pressed together, noses just barely brushing, breathing heavily into the shared space between you both.
“I love you,” Johnny whispered one final time.
“I love you too. Always,” you whispered back.
The second he pulled away, almost having to drag himself out of your arms, you could feel it. That ache in your chest was back, those pieces of you threatening to break away again.
Sam and Joaquín were back at your side in seconds, each with a hand resting on your back as Wong stood off to the side.
The Fantastic Four walked up the ramp of that ship, casting one last look back at you, before the doors shut them in.
With a shaky hand, you tugged that chain out from under your clothes, grasping that diamond ring in your hand. You let the feel of it try to ground you, running your finger back and forth across every ridge and bump of each and every diamond.
You didn’t stop as the engines of the Excelsior roared to life. You only gripped the ring harder, never letting go. Even when the ship disappeared into the atmosphere, nothing more than a blip in the sky
The wind settled, the trees and grass stopped rustling in the wind created by the ship, as the entire field was plunged back into quiet. It was then that you turned to Sam, eyes red rimmed as the tears began to fall, breaths uneven and short as you tried to take in a deep breath.
“I-It’s not fair,” you barely managed the words out as Sam nodded his head, turning your body fully toward him.
“I know-”
“H-Haven’t I given enough?” you hiccuped through the words, almost sobbing by the end of it. That ring was still grasped tight in your palm, digging its shape into your skin. “Haven’t I-I lost enough?”
“You have-”
“Nat, Tony, Steve, Wanda, a-and now I can’t even have him-” a sob finally tore through your throat as Sam tugged you into him, burying your head into the crook of his neck as you sobbed. One hand gripped his t-shirt, while the other refused to let go of the ring. “I-I’ve given this world everything a-and I can’t even have this! It just keeps taking, and taking, and taking from me.”
Sam simply shushed you, hand cupping the back of your head as he let you cry. For the people you’d lost, the life you’d given up in service of the world, and for the man you loved that you let walk away.
It was a pain you couldn’t describe. A pain that only a hero would know: the sacrifice of a hero.
“Do you remember when Steve Rogers chose Peggy?”
Wong’s voice cut through the air, the only words spoke in the silence of the field amidst your cries. Sam’s hand on your head paused, the hand Joaquín had placed against your shoulder blades froze.
You pulled away, a mess of tears still littering your face as you wiped them away. Your chest still heaved, struggling for air, as you watched Wong. He stood in front of all three of you, hands clasped behind his back, that same stoic look on his face not giving away a single thing.
“W-What does that have to do with-”
“Rogers’ choice should have broken the sacred timeline. It should have created an alternate reality, started an incursion that destroyed the timeline as we know it. It didn’t,” Wong took a single step forward. Sam’s hand glided down, resting against your back, as you all turned toward the Sorcerer Supreme. “His choice did not break the timeline, it did not create a new reality, it simply worked. It defied the rules of time travel. It worked because that is the way it was written, that is how his story was always meant to end.”
You cocked your head, wiping away the trails of tears under your eyes once more as you shook your head.
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because neither of you broke anything either,”
Wong’s hands flourished through the air in front of you all, shimmering in that familiar yellow and gold of magic. Hanging in the air in front of you all were two lines of pulsing, deep orange energy, stretching parallel to one another from one end of the field to the other, disappearing between the trees. Little stars almost seemed to twinkle in the spaces around the streams of energy.
“These are flows of time. This one represents us here, on Earth-616. This one represents Earth-828…their world,” you gingerly took a step forward, hand hovering over the flows of time pulsating in the air, Sam and Joaquín still glued to your sides as Wong pointed along the streams. “When something interrupts that flow of time, interrupts what is meant to happen, that branch splits. This creates alternate timelines, this creates incursions that can destroy the multiverse. I studied your time on Earth-828 for the last two years, trying to make sense of the year you spent there. Both of these branches should’ve been splintered, breaking apart at the seams: ours because it didn’t have you, and theirs because it had someone it wasn’t supposed to. These branches never split. Not once.”
The gears were turning in your head, but not fast enough. Wong continued on, waving his hand as the flows of time shifted, moving down until he stopped those streams of energy in the air at a new point.
“This section represents now, and the last seven days. I have studied these, night and day, since they arrived on this earth. I have waited for a single piece to break, for a single part to crack, but it never did. You didn’t break their timeline, and they didn’t break ours, for the same reason that Steve Rogers didn’t break it either…because it was always meant to happen,”
It was still hard to catch your breath, and it was harder then in that moment as Wong spoke those words: always meant to happen.
Your eyes widened a fraction, lips parting as your jaw went slack as the weight of his words settled in on you. Sam let out a breathless laugh from beside you, and Joaquín muttered an ‘oh shit’ just barely under his breath. Your legs felt numb, your hands were beginning to shake as you gripped onto the chain in your hand, looking up at Wong.
“I…I was always meant to meet Johnny?”
Wong waved his hand, the flows of time dissipating in front of him, as his hands settled behind his back once more.
“I have kept you apart, forbade you from performing that spell again, in the interest of protecting the timelines. In the interest of protecting the multiverse. All I have done, though, is stand in the way of something that was always meant to be,” for a fraction of a second, Wong’s lips quirked up into a miniscule smile. “There is no fundamental proof that soulmates exist in the vast multiverse, but if there was, you two would be the best example there is.”
Sam launched into a thousand questions, the logistics of it all. Could you freely travel between worlds? Could travel, eventually, break the flow of time? Every question that you knew needed to be answered, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
Not when you opened the palm of your hand, and that diamond ring was glinting back up at you in the light, and Johnny’s voice could be heard in your head.
Don’t we deserve to be selfish?
❤︎
Johnny Storm wasn’t the same man he was three years ago. He knew that.
He had searched for love in all the wrong places all his life, finding it with the wrong people. He’d taken on the public persona of a playboy, the kind of man who would never settle down, when that’s all he wanted. He wanted the life, the love, the family that Sue and Reed had built together. It was all he’d ever wanted, but something he never thought he’d find.
Then, you appeared.
The witch from another universe, holding a power that could quite literally kill him if he didn’t watch his mouth. You matched his wit, you ignored his charms, and you fell in love with the version of him he was sometimes afraid to show the world. The version of him that he wanted someone to love. You’d done it so easily, too, captured his heart somewhere between that day in the park, that night with the milkshakes, and that late night on that New York rooftop.
You had changed him in a way he could never understand, fundamentally at his core. His entire life was changed irrevocably the second you had turned around in that park and looked at him.
“We’ve been home for two hours and you’re sulking already,”
Johnny rolled his eyes at Ben’s comment, picking at the pieces of meat in his to-go Chinese container before flicking them across the table at Ben. Franklin laughed from his seat at the moment as Johnny shot Ben a smirk, laughing along with his nephew as the man threw the stray pieces of meat back onto the table.
“I’m not sulking-”
“You haven’t said a single word since dinner arrived,” Ben shot back. Johnny opened his mouth, a retort on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t come up with one. “Yeah, exactly. That’s what I thought.”
“Give him a break, Ben,” Sue told him gently, reaching over to pat his arm as she took another bite of one of the pieces of chicken in her own container. “Not every day you have to say goodbye to the woman you love.”
“I still vote we should’ve left him there with her,”
Johnny barely looked up from his food, just shooting a little ball of fire in the direction of Ben, burning the meat currently on his chopsticks to a crisp in seconds. Franklin laughed even louder at the sight from the other end of the table, as Sue shot her brother a look that screamed for him to behave.
He was trying not to sulk, but it wasn’t easy. Not when he could already feel himself forgetting the feel of your skin, the scent of your perfume, or the exact shade of your eyes.
At that moment, Johnny let his eyes drift to Reed. Sitting across from him at the table, just as quiet as he had been the entire dinner. Reed glanced up, looking back down, before double-taking to meet Johnny’s eyes.
“What?”
“I’ll admit, I’ve been quiet, but you’ve been way quieter. It’s weird,” Johnny threw his container down, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in the dining room chair. “Thought you’d be talking about the success of the trip, or about how much cooler some of their technology is and how you want to recreate it and totally not wipe out all the power on the Eastern half of the country in the process.”
Sue gave a small hum of agreement to Johnny's comment, but Reed only shrugged, averting his eyes down to his plate. The shifty behavior set Johnny off immediately, his eyes narrowing as he leaned forward.
“What’s going on in that supersized brain of yours?”
Reed made a move to comment, when the watch on his wrist beeped. It was that same alert, that familiar sound that Johnny had heard so many times before. That day in Gramercy Park, that day in the lab…Reed only smiled, silencing the alert and taking another bite of his food.
“Uh, stretch?” Ben jabbed his thumb in the direction of Reed’s watch. “Is everything good there?”
“Nothing I wasn’t already expecting,” Reed glanced back up at Johnny, nodding toward the stairs behind him. “Why don’t you freshen up for the night since you’re obviously not eating anything else. We’ll handle the dishes.”
The three adults around the table exchanged curious glances, confusion prevalent among everyone at that moment. Johnny was tired, though, and he wasn’t going to fight him on it.
The dining room chair squeaked against the floors as Johnny left the rest of his family at the table, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Franklin’s head, before leaving the room. Ascending the stairs, trying not to let his mind wander to the thousand moments that were littered in every square inch of this building of you.
Maybe he needed to move out of the Baxter Building. He was only going to be depressed for the rest of his life if he lived in a building crawling with memories of you hidden in every crevice.
The door of his bedroom was already slightly ajar. Johnny barely paid it any mind, swinging it open without a second thought as he entered the darkened room.
He’d yet to set foot in his room, not since the day they’d left a week ago to traverse the multiverse. The polaroid of you both was still lying on his bed, right where he’d left it, your handwriting still magically scribbled across the bottom half.
Unequivocally yours.
Johnny held it in his hands, letting his thumb brush over the words for a moment. Smiling, letting the memory of you satiate his broken heart for just a moment.
“Hi,”
The photo fell from his hands the second he heard it, that voice. All it took was one word, and he knew it. He knew that voice, but he couldn’t trust his own head. There was no way what he was hearing was real.
But there you were. Standing by that record player, the soft light of the moon through the windows streaming in, illuminating you from the back. You looked the same as you had hours ago in that field. The same clothes, the same hair, the same little smile on your face. The same woman he loved.
Johnny’s breath was caught in his throat. His mouth opened and closed, trying to find the words, stumbling over himself. Your smile only grew, hands tucked behind your back.
“...did you fuck up a spell again?”
You laughed, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet, teeth digging into the plush pink of your bottom lip for a split second.
“More like performed it right,”
The shock on Johnny’s face, somehow, grew more prevalent. He wasn’t sure if his brain had fully caught up with the sight before him, if he had fully processed that it was you standing in front of him yet. He’d left you, he’d said his goodbye, but here you were.
“You purposefully came here?” you nodded your head. “Isn’t that, like, against everything the monk dude has been drilling into you for the last two years?”
“That’s the thing,” you shook your head, taking another step forward until you were on the single step that led off that elevated platform in the center of his room. “Apparently Wong was wrong.”
“He was wrong? Sounds like something he wouldn’t like,”
“Not at all,” the giggle you let out shot straight into his veins, Johnny’s body almost feeling weightless at the simple sound. “It’s…it’s complicated. I’ll explain everything to you, I promise, because it’s complicated.”
Johnny took a single step forward, still hesitant, still unable to believe the sight in front of him.
“How complicated?”
“Let’s just say that, when I call my world my home but you my home too, I’m not wrong,” you gave a tiny shrug, accented with a grin. “But for now, let me just answer the question I never did the other night…yes, we do deserve to be selfish.”
Johnny didn’t need to question your words, not when you took your hands out from behind your back and held your left hand up into the light in front of him: that diamond ring, the same one that always sat on his mother’s hand, glinting in the light and reflecting off the walls, now sitting on your finger.
Every question died on Johnny’s lips at that moment. He didn’t need to ask any questions, not when that simple action spoke a thousand words. He knew, in that moment, at least a semblance of what it was you were trying to say.
A squeal left your lips as Johnny practically rushed at you. His arms wound around your waist, squeezing the life out of you while yours clung to his shoulders for even just a moment of balance. He spun you, your laughter floating through the air as he finally let your feet touch the ground again.
Johnny’s hands cupped your cheeks, cradling your face as he looked down at you. Astonished, adoring, completely and utterly in love. Your hands laid on top of his, and he couldn’t help the way his eyes were drawn straight to that ring once again.
“Better late than never on that third rule, right?” you laughed, smile wide, as the tip of Johnny’s nose bumped the tip of yours. “I think the last name Storm will suit you nicely.”
“I think so too,” you shot right back, squeezing affectionately at his hands as your face scrunched up just slightly, smile still impossibly wide as you looked up at him.
And when his lips found yours, when his hands trailed down your sides and tugged you in, and when you fell back against the comforter of his bed in a heap of laughter of pure love as the sound of his family bounding up the stairs echoed in the hallway, Johnny had never felt more at peace. More at home. More loved.
Multiverse be damned, he loved you, and Johnny Storm was never letting you go. You were unequivocally, and irrevocably, his.
Summary: The Fantastic Four thought they were done dealing with cosmic threats after the defeat of Galactus. That is, until you crash-landed in Gramercy Park. Except, you aren't a threat, and Johnny Storm might be head over heels in love with a woman who couldn't care less for his flirting...again.
Warnings: little steamy but nothing major, making out, so much god damn fluff, some angst, some adult themes mentioned, strangers to friends to lovers, Johnny is a massive flirt, star-crossed lovers, slow burn, bittersweet ending but there will be a sequel, SPOILERS! for The Fantastic Four: First Steps, MCU spoilers, female reader but no characteristics described, reader kind of has PTSD, maybe some incorrect stuff regarding the 60s and how it worked but it's a fantasy world, VERY lightly edited so apologies for any mistakes
Word Count: 24,720 words
Requests are open! : ̗̀➛ Find my masterlist here
READ PART 2: Irrevocably : ̗̀➛ Johnny Storm x Reader
Johnny Storm was barely paying attention to the conversation happening around the dining room table of the Baxter Building. Instead, he dug his hand even further into the Lucky Charms box, popping another handful of the cereal into his mouth.
Sue shot him a look across the table, half of the bits of cereal falling from the side of his mouth to the table. His only response was an incredulous look her way, which was met with an affectionate eye roll from his sister.
“He probably just got caught up with something,” Sue tried to calm Ben’s nerves, bouncing little Franklin in her arms as he babbled out nonsense of some kind. That was enough to bring a smile to Sue’s face, her lips pressing a kiss to the side of his little head. “You know how Reed is.”
“Ben’s got a point, though,” Johnny chimed in, as the giant rock hand of his friend swiped his cereal box from his hands. With a defeated sigh, he decided he wasn’t going to start a fight over it, turning his gaze back to his sister and nephew. “Last time he was late for Sunday dinner it’s because you were pregnant and he was having an existential crisis. As much as I enjoyed that crisis, I think we’ve dealt with enough in the last few months.”
He wasn’t wrong, and he knew it. They all knew it. A year later and the aftermath of Galactus and Shalla-Bal still hung in the air. The implications of intelligent, threatening life out there in the universe casting a shadow over every news broadcast across the globe.
“That’s exactly my point,” Ben high fived Johnny from across the table, turning his gaze to Sue as well. “If he’s this caught up with something to miss family dinner, that means he found something.”
“And we all know when your husband finds something, that spells trouble for the rest of us,” Johnny lit his hand on fire for added effect, lips pursed as he waved the burning flames around gently in the air. “For example…cosmic radiation.”
It was clear that Sue wanted to argue with the pair, but Johnny knew there was no arguing with them. Their point was made, and that smirk on his face creeped in as Sue sighed, rising to her feet with Franklin situated on her hip.
“Alright, fine. Let’s go see what he’s up to,”
The chorus of cheers shared between Ben and Johnny from behind was surely making Sue roll her eyes once again. Any moments that Johnny was given to bother his brother in law in the lab was a win in his book.
Following his sister into the elevator, Johnny snapped his fingers in Ben’s direction as they descended toward the lab floor.
“10 bucks says it’s another alien woman,”
Ben’s groan sounded through the elevator, bouncing off the walls. Short laughter from Sue mixed in with it, even as she shook her head in response.
“Johnny, just because the first one dumped you, doesn’t mean you can go chasing after any alien woman in existence,”
“She never dumped me, for your information. She heroically sacrificed herself to save me because of her deep, profound love for me,” the shove Ben gave Johnny’s shoulder pushed him into the wall of the elevator. All he could do was shoot the rock man a glare, following his family out of the elevator and onto the lab floor, but not before pretending to grab at little Franklin’s nose to make the baby laugh. “Plus, I think it’s about time little Franklin got an auntie. A cool one.”
None of them were prepared for the mess of a lab they were stepping into.
Papers scattered the entire floor, from the workstation to the chalkboards. Those chalkboards had a thousand equations scattered across them: some scribbled out, others circled over a hundred times. Poor Herbie was frantically moving throughout the room, trying and failing to pick up every piece of paper that he could and bring some form of organization to the room.
“Uh, Suze,” it was Ben’s voice that cut in first, the trio stood just outside the elevator doors in mild shock at the state of the lab that was usually pristine. “I think your husband may have finally lost it.”
“That or he bought some drugs and tried them for the first time,” Johnny tacked on in a mumble that still got him an unimpressed look from his sister.
Johnny wasn’t wrong, though, and neither was Ben. Reed Richards looked like a certified mess.
He stood at the far end of the lab, moving between workstations at the deep blue tables lining the area in a half circle. He typed viciously, new data points mapped upon the screens adorning the walls. The middle screen, the largest, held a map to the entirety of New York City, markings appearing every so often in certain sections of the city before disappearing.
Even as the group approached, Reed never moved from his place, still typing away as he mumbled to himself.
“Reed,” Sue spoke up, just as her husband stalked across the floor once more.
The freshly written upon papers in his hands fell to the ground the second he laid eyes on them. Hair slightly disheveled, tie almost entirely undone, Reed Richards looked as if he had been rocked by a hurricane.
“Something is coming,”
Those were all the words he had to say. Johnny felt as if the air had been knocked from his lungs, as if all the oxygen in the room had been sucked straight out. He heard the sharp intake of breath from his sister first, before Ben stepped forward.
“Reed, what are you talking about?”
Ben quickly had multiple papers shoved into his hands as Reed gestured to the large screen showing the map of New York. One of the workstations beeped as the scientist quickly logged whatever data his system had just mapped out, another blip appearing on the screen that Reed pointed to desperately.
“For the last fifteen minutes, I’ve been tracking these energy signatures,” the map zoomed in on a focused location of the city. “They’re appearing at strange intervals. They started just a minute or two apart, but have grown to be just seconds apart now. All contained in an area between 24th and 17th street, in conjunction with Park Ave and 3rd Ave.”
“Gramercy Park?” Johnny chimed in, crossing his arms over his chest. He cocked his head slightly, looking at the map and the park that lay directly between the streets his brother-in-law had just named off. Honestly, he was still trying to understand what it was he was looking at, or just understand Reed’s mental state as a whole. “Maybe your baby proofing didn’t work and the Wizard is just out of prison.”
“That was my first thought as well, but the energy signatures proved me incorrect,” Johnny only rolled his eyes, running a hand down his face at Reed’s inability to take a joke. “These energy signatures are different, even more so than those of the Herald. It’s a culmination of dimensional energy–energy that’s being pulled from the fabric of the universe itself–it matches with energies given off by planets, or even stars themselves. But there’s another component to it, something so inherently not scientifically explainable that I can’t understand.”
Johnny shared a look with his sister and Ben, and even a look with confused little Franklin, before Sue chimed in.
“Okay, so there’s some weird space energy in the area-”
“Energy that has organic life woven into it,” Reed emphasized for those standing in front of him. He crossed the room back to his desk, pulling up a clear imaging of the energy itself from a nearby street camera that happened to catch the pulse. It was like a burst of blue strands, interwoven, pulsing and dousing the surrounding area in color, before it blinked away. “This energy beats, like a heartbeat. It moves organically, as if being pushed and pulled by someone. Compare these scans with a simple energy scan of any one of us, anyone in New York for that matter, and the fundamentals match perfectly. This isn’t some cosmic energy seeping into our earth for a moment, there’s something attached to it, something causing it. It’s forewarning something–someone.”
The lab grew quiet, the weight of Reed’s words hung in the air. For Johnny, they hung a little harder.
The last time something–someone–showed up on this Earth, he’d almost lost his family, lost his nephew. He had lost his sister, even for just a brief moment, but that was enough. Enough to never want to be put through this again. Johnny’s jaw clenched at the memory, his gaze flickering back to the screens.
“Why’s the park empty?” he questioned, gesturing to the live feed of the park from security cameras placed around light poles. “It’s not even 8 at night.”
“Suspicious activity in the area over the last week. I spoke to the mayor and had a curfew put in place out of an abundance of caution,” Sue chimed in.
“Okay, so another space alien is coming,” Ben clapped his hands together, the sound echoing as it drew everyone’s attention to him. “We threw the devourer of worlds through a portal to deep space…let’s just do that again.”
“This isn’t Galactus,” Reed muttered, voice just loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room as he turned back to the screens before him. “This is something else.”
Before anyone else could speak again, another pulsation of blue energy directly in the center of the park this time. Bigger than the others, strands of energy moving and beating in the air. Growing brighter, bathing the park in light.
The power of the building flickered for half a second before the live feed into the park cut off suddenly. Reed tapped incessantly, trying to bring it back, but it was no use.
“Reed…what is that?”
On the main screen, right in the center of the park on the New York City map, was one single blip of energy. Unlike the other blips, this one didn’t leave. It held steady.
“Johnny-” his name had barely left Reed’s mouth before Johnny was at the windows of the lab, swinging them open before streaking through the air in a blaze of red and orange.
No one was threatening his family again.
Gramercy Park wasn’t far away from the Baxter Building, especially not for a man who could light himself on fire and streak through the air at speeds humans couldn’t comprehend.
The park and every surrounding street was quiet the second his feet touched down on the pavement, flames dissipating from his body with a single thought.
The trees rustled above him in the night time breeze, stray leaves breaking off of the branches and falling to the ground. In the distance Johnny could faintly hear the usual sound of New York traffic, the muffled sound of sirens streets and streets away.
Straight ahead of him, down the path, laid the circle of greenery and flowers planted around the statue that sat in the middle of the park.
When he approached the center of the park apprehensively, flaming fist at his side ready to attack, the last thing he expected to see was you.
Pacing back and forth until the point he was sure you’d burn lines into the ground under your feet, you were glancing up at the sky over and over, muttering something to yourself. He cocked his head as he creeped closer, taking in the clothes that adorned your body: a pain of jeans adorned with so many tears and holes he couldn’t comprehend why you were still wearing them, and a tight fitting shirt that plunged way too far down your sternum to be considered decent to wear…anywhere. He wasn’t sure he’d even seen a woman wearing a shirt quite that revealing before.
His foot hit a single branch littering the pavement, ten feet from you now, before you froze and spun on your heels to face him. Johnny was pretty sure every bit of oxygen in the air was ripped away the second his eyes locked with yours.
Well, fuck, you are the prettiest fucking woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
It was the only thought capable of filtering through Johnny’s head. Reed must have gotten something wrong in his data, been tracking something that didn’t really exist, because there was no way that you were the blip that had appeared on the map. You were just another New Yorker–a drop dead gorgeous one, at that–who was out past the mandatory curfew…even if the clothing you bore threw him for a loop.
You didn’t look scared of him, his hand still burning with flames at his side. He could see the way your eyes drifted to the fire, head almost tilting in curiosity, before you glanced back at his face. Your hands were held out at your sides, fingers flexing as if you were prepared to defend yourself if the need arose.
Johnny wasn’t going to hurt you. You were a civilian, one who should be in her home during this curfew. Just another normal civilian that he would definitely be coming back to this area for the following day so he could figure out where you worked, or which cafe you visited most often so he could orchestrate a way to run into you again-
His watch beeped, that familiar alert sound. Johnny’s eyes tore themselves away from you for just a second to glance down: an energy reading, matching the same one from Reed’s lab, pointed directly at you.
Way to go, Johnny. Get the hots for yet another alien woman that’s probably here to destroy your world and kill your family. Nice job. Way to go. Ben totally isn’t going to make fun of you for this.
“I’m not usually one for telling strong, pretty women what to do,” Johnny quipped, flames igniting on his other hands, both now burning bright at his sides. “But you’re out after curfew.”
“Curfew?” you had practically barked out a laugh, and fuck Johnny hated the fact that even your voice was pretty. Even as it was dripping in disbelief. “Yeah, right. I haven’t seen a single curfew ever go into effect in this city through the multiple alien incursions it’s seen.”
Johnny cocked his head immediately: multiple alien incursions? Given that Shalla-Bal was the only alien he’d watched descend into Times Square, he was utterly confused.
“Makes sense–given that you’re another one of those alien incursions–that you don’t know about the curfew,” flames burning just a tad bit brighter, crawling up his forearms, Johnny raised his hands in your direction as he took a cautious step forward. “I’d prefer not to hurt you, doll, so why don’t we do this peacefully and you just come with me?”
It happened in the blink of an eye. Johnny’s eyes never left you as your head tilted just slightly, a flash of blue crossing your eyes as your fingers twitched at your sides, before suddenly his arms were enveloped.
Like a casing of blue tinted energy, pulsing around his hands and up his forearms, the flames that ignited Johnny’s skin were extinguished in moments. Blue eyes shooting wide open, he shook his hands frantically. Willing himself in his head, telling his flames to ignite, but they wouldn’t. Every wave of his arms did nothing, the blue energy unmoving and shifting with him.
“No use trying, pretty boy. There’s not a single ounce of oxygen in the air around your arms right now, so I suggest you keep the flames at bay because I’d prefer not to do that to your entire body,” you shot back at him. With a single wave of your hand, the casing of energy dropped from around his arms. Johnny let the fires reignite for just a moment, confirming that he could indeed use his power again, before his wide eyes shot back to you.
“...I’m going to be so honest, I can’t tell if I’m terrified or completely turned on right now,”
“I’m, also, not an alien. I grew up upstate. And, why does Gramercy Park look so…weird?” Johnny’s comment was ignored, even though it was a valid question that he was trying to work out in his head. He instead watched you spin around on your heels, pointing around the park and up toward the surrounding buildings. “I know I haven’t left the Sanctum in a few days, but I feel like I would’ve heard construction. That building was never white, that one–wait, how did they build an above ground subway system? That wasn’t there three days ago when I got in, and I know for a fact the city doesn’t have the budget for this.”
In all of his life, Johnny Storm had never been more confused. He’d sat through countless lectures from Reed about matters of organic chemistry that he didn’t understand in the slightest, or cooking lessons from Ben that ended in him shoving his hand deep into a box of cereal, and this was more confusing then all of those combined.
Your clothing, something just about the way you talked and looked, whatever the hell this blue energy was it looked like you were controlling–and what the hell was a Sanctum?
“Back up…the Sanctum?” Johnny chose to start there as you turned back to him. He chose to keep his flames at bay, having a gut feeling that if you really did want to cut off the oxygen around him you could, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with that. “Isn’t that, like, some type of Church thing? Are you from some weird alien cult?”
“I literally just told you I wasn’t an alien. The Sanctum Sanctorum, over on Bleeker street? You know…Wong, Stephen Strange, the Masters of the Mystic Arts?” you must have seen the confusion on his face grow, because Johnny could see the moment your back seemed to straighten. “Wait, you have no clue who they are? Actually–beyond that–you have powers. How do I not know who you are?”
“Great question, sweetheart. The Fantastic Four kind of just saved the world a year ago, so I’m about as lost as you are,”
Johnny wanted to be apprehensive, wanted not to trust a word you were saying. He wanted to be cautious, to put his walls up, because the last time someone had come down into his world like this, he’d almost lost everything.
But you weren’t Shalla-Bal. You weren’t standing on a silver surfboard, speaking with confidence and heralding the end of the world.
No, when Johnny looked at you now, he saw pieces of himself. Of little him, hugging Sue, losing their mother forever. Of the version of him that came back to Earth over four years ago forever changed: confused and scared. The version of him that locked himself away in Building Q, charring the sheets and everything around him as he cried, trying to understand what was happening.
“I meant what I said, by the way,” Johnny cut in, that usual charm infiltrating his words. You were still the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, and he was curious, more curious then he was the moment a woman coated in silver appeared in the air. You had his full attention, even if he was still trying to figure out who the hell you were, but he hoped showing off his charm would ease the tensions a bit. “You’re a very pretty woman…and I might be turned on right now, the jury is definitely still out on that one. Took my breath away when I first saw you, and you could literally do that if you wanted to. That’s hot.”
He watched as you huffed out the semblance of a laugh, still teetering back and forth on if he was a danger to you. Given the fact that you had demonstrated your ability to cut off his oxygen…he was hoping you wouldn’t see him as a threat anymore.
“Ah, a charmer, aren’t you? Knew someone like that, been awhile since I’ve seen someone so brazenly flirt with a woman,”
“Oh darling, that’s my whole brand,”
You hummed across from him, but he caught your body language. Slightly more at ease, not as rigid anymore.
“The Fantastic Four?” your eyebrow shot up, eyes still wide with confusion, but slightly less apprehensive than before, as you brought the conversation back to that name he’d dropped. “Bit of a pretentious name to give yourselves.”
“That was all the fans,” Johnny shot back with a hint of a grin. A ghost of a smile seemed to find your mouth as well, and Johnny mentally cheered to himself that it seemed he was able to convince you he wasn’t a threat to your life.
“Fair enough. The Avengers was chosen for us…I feel like I would’ve heard about another new superhero team being formed in our absence, though,”
Johnny’s confusion was back again as he mulled over your words.
“Avengers? What are they, some superpowered band?”
It was your turn to mull over his words.
“You…you don’t know who the Avengers are?”
There was a whirl through the air as Johnny watched you glance behind him. He turned too, eyes landing on the familiar blue of the Fantasti-Car landing behind him on the pavement, Sue, Reed and Ben stepping out just moments later, practically running down the pavement toward him.
“Johnny-!”
“No, no, wait!” he called out frantically, glancing back at you again. Your hands were rigid at your sides again, fingers flexing, eyes narrowed in a terrified glare in their direction. He glanced back at his family, holding out a hand for them to stop just behind him. “She’s not a threat, I swear!”
Ben’s thunderous steps came to a halt, his head thrown back to the sky as he let out the loudest sigh in the world. “Johnny, seriously, you can’t keep falling for every alien woman you meet-”
Johnny didn’t let him finish, spinning back around to face you. His eyes pleaded with you, hoping you would see his hesitance to hurt you, feet shuffling forward a few steps. You took one back for each step he made forward, that same blue energy dancing around your hands once again.
“I really don’t want to hurt you,” you spoke, voice steady and loud enough to carry through the air. Your eyes glanced past Johnny, to his family. “Any of you. It’s not who I am, that’s not what I do. But if I have to, I will.”
“We won’t,” Johnny promised, taking a glance back at his family. Ben seemed unsure, Reed apprehensive, but Sue watched him. Curious, unsure of what he might do next. He glanced back at you. “I won’t. We’re just as confused as you are right now.”
You laughed. “I really doubt that.”
Reed brought a device out from his pocket, that same alert that came from Johnny’s watch ringing through the air as he pointed it in your direction.
“It’s coming from her,” Reed announced. Johnny tried desperately not to roll his eyes and make a comment of ‘obviously’ toward his brother-in-law. “These readings are coming from her. I was right: she’s controlling this dimensional energy, bending it to her will.”
Johnny hung his head with a sigh, still mulling over making a comment as he turned his gaze back to you. It was apologetic, accented with an eyeroll, one that brought a hint of a smirk back to your face. It worked, though, as you dropped your hands, body relaxing once more as Johnny confirmed for you once again that they didn’t want to hurt you.
With a single flick of your wrist, the device in Reed’s hands was enveloped in that same energy, wrapping around it and carrying it over to your hands before their very eyes. Johnny froze, along with the three directly behind him, as they watched it happen.
“Not energy–well, not technically–it’s magic,” you explained, never taking your eyes off the device in your hands as you fiddled with the controls. “This thing is…so strange. It looks like such a primitive piece of tech but functions so modernly. Did you get this from Stark Industries? Is this some old prototype of Tony’s that Pepper sold you?”
“I designed it,” Reed answered after a moment. You hummed, flicking your hand again as the device made its way through the air and back to Reed’s hands. “Stark Industries, are they a foreign company? Do you work for them?”
Johnny watched that confusion bubble up in your features again, tinged with nerves now. He caught it, the way your leg began to shake as the pacing you’d been doing when he first showed up resumed once again. All he could do was watch.
“T-This doesn’t make any sense. I’ve never heard of you guys, everything about New York looks different, you don’t know the Avengers, hell you don’t even know who Tony is!” you laughed, incredulously this time, as your eyes locked with Johnny’s again. “This has to be a joke, right? A-Are one of you Wong in disguise, trying to teach me a lesson for opening a book to perform a spell that I wasn’t supposed to touch-”
You stopped in the middle of your sentence.
Johnny took another step forward the second you cut your own words off with a gasp. Hand flying up to cover your mouth, your wide eyes never left him as he took a cautious step forward.
“We just want to help you. What are you talking about? Help us understand,”
“The Book of Vishanti,” you said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, like the four standing in front of you were supposed to understand it. “Wong thought I was ready for powerful light magic, h-he invited me so that he could show it to me, so that I could learn from it. I should’ve listened to him, I shouldn’t have snuck down there-”
Sue stepped up to Johnny’s side. He watched his sister, the easy look on her face, the understanding in her eyes, as she spoke softly to you.
“What happened before you showed up in this park?”
“I touched the book without him, I thought I could teach myself things without him,” you spoke quickly, shaking your head frantically. “I could barely read the spell and yet I performed it anyway. Either I fucked it up, or I did it right and I didn’t know what I was doing because…this isn’t my earth. It can’t be, not with all the differences.”
Reed and Ben joined either side of Johnny and Sue now, all four of them staring down at you in front of them as you came to a realization of what had truly happened.
Through it all, Johnny just couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Curiosity pulled at him, more than it ever had before.
“What are you saying?” Reed chimed in.
“I’m saying this isn’t my universe…I think I accidentally traveled the multiverse, and I have no idea how to get back,”
❤︎
Performing a spell from the Book of Vishanti that you couldn’t yet read was, in hindsight, probably the worst idea that you had ever had in your entire young adult life.
When the Sorcerer Supreme believes that you’re ready to handle a book such as that, lined with the most powerful magic and spells and knowledge of light magic that have ever existed…it’s not hard to get an ego about it and jump the gun. You could already hear the berating you’d get from Wong, the things that Steve would’ve said to you if he was still around, the things that Sam most definitely would say to you when you got back to Washington.
If you ever got home, that is.
It was a thought you tried not to dwell on. Every night, as you closed your eyes, you saw them. The ones still here, the ones taken from you even as you fought with every ounce of you to save them all. The final look in your best friend’s eyes before she destroyed the version of herself that she had become, destroying what felt like a piece of you in the process. All so you could wind up in a world without any of them, a universe so far away from your own, nursing what felt like a shattered heart as you tried to find a way home.
You cried enough every time your head hit the pillow of the bed that wasn’t yours, you wouldn’t let the tears find you during the day too.
To their credit, the Fantastic Four were the most welcoming and kind group of people you’d ever met. If a strange woman basically crash landed in your universe, claiming to be a witch, you too would probably have hesitated. But here you were, a week later, having taken up the space on the unused guest floor of the Baxter Building at the insistence of Susan Storm. Trapped in a universe so similar to your own, but so different.
You weren’t alive in the 60s of your Earth, but now you got the chance to experience it firsthand…with a twist. It was strange how retro and yet futuristic this Earth was. The technology was advanced, sometimes more advanced than anything you had seen in your own universe, and that was all thanks to Dr. Reed Richards. You had thought that Bruce Banner and his 7 PhDs was the smartest person you would ever meet, but Reed and his 18 Doctorate degrees blew him out of the water by miles. But beyond the advanced technology of the world, everything else was still so primitive.
The clothing was different, more modest and brightly colored than anything you were used to seeing before. The hairstyles were different, sometimes shorter, almost always poofier than they were in the 2020s. They talked differently, the music was different, everything felt so familiar and yet so wrong at the same time.
This little team, this family you had stumbled upon, had been nothing but helpful, even if they were still wrapping their minds around the idea of the multiverse. The protectors of their Earth, the only superheroes this universe had compared to the plethora yours seemed to have, but some of the most down to earth people you had ever met. Reed Richards was abrasive sometimes, but curious, asking a thousand questions when you would venture out of the guest floor about your magic and the scientific properties surrounding it and its composition. Ben Grimm was kind, giving you space, but always dropping off something to eat on the guest floor for you every day. Sue Storm was kind and bright, strolling in with confidence and her son, Franklin, perched on her hip, filling your closet with an array of clothing to wear so that you would be comfortable.
Johnny Storm followed you like a puppy dog, hanging off every word you spoke and popping up in every corner of the building you found yourself in, much like he was now.
“Find anything in there?”
You rolled your eyes, tossing the book borrowed from the city library onto the coffee table of the guest floor living room. It landed with a thud on the multiple other books that Sue had picked up for you before you glanced over your shoulder, seeing Johnny stalking toward the couch you were sitting upon from the elevator.
“Just more confirmation that witches don’t seem to exist in your universe, except in the fairy tales," you shot back with a sigh. Your gaze turned to the floor to ceiling windows adorning the wall before you, giving you a glimpse of the New York skyline as night crept in on it, the sun dipping below the horizon line in the distance. “Which leaves me with exactly what I started with: nothing.”
Johnny hummed, hands grasping the back of the couch from beside you as he too glanced out over the skyline. The record player in the corner played some Elvis tune, something to fill the silence.
“Can’t you just, like, do the spell again to get home?”
“If I knew what spell I did, probably,” came your answer as you glanced over to him, finding his blue eyes already watching you. “No clue what spell I did, so without that I have no means of traversing the multiverse.”
Your gaze watched him as he left the couch, stalking across the room toward the record player. Another eye roll left you as he plucked the Elvis record off the turntable in seconds, muttering something about how that record ‘wasn’t good enough,’ before combing the collection beside it for another one.
This wasn’t the first time he’d done this over the course of the week. It felt like Johnny Storm practically lived on this guest floor with you: he’d brought his dinner down every night to eat with you, lounged around the living room while you searched through book after book, and had gone through every bit of clothing his sister had procured for you and made comments about which ones he thought you’d look best in (spoiler alert: it was every single item).
You didn’t entirely mind. His presence felt like a soothing balm over the pain that still sat within you, his ability to joke and make anyone around him smile, able to slap a bandaid over what felt like a gunshot.
“What’s music like in the 2020s?” he called out from across the room, settling on a Bob Dylan record instead that he dropped the needle down onto. “Does everyone have giant record collections now, ones that would rival my own?”
“Music is…much different than what you’re used to now,” was the response you settled on, chuckling slightly as you tried to imagine the man across the room listening to the likes of Eminem or even Taylor Swift. Taking a sip of your drink settled on the table in front of you, you dug your now dead cell phone out of your pocket, waving it around. “We listen off our phones, can connect headphones to them wirelessly. Vinyl collections are usually just collections now, not typically used to play music.”
Your cell phone was plucked straight out of your hands by Johnny himself, who had crossed the room with impressive speed. With a chuckle, you shook your head at his antics, leaning your head against your hand as you watched him inspect the dead device.
“I should tell Reed to invent this thing. Have to use that big brain for something useful,”
“And somewhere in Chicago, I can hear Martin Cooper crying that his invention is about to be stolen,”
Johnny tossed your phone back onto the cushion next to you without another thought, plopping down right next to it. Head thrown back against the back of the couch, he turned to look at you again with a giddy grin.
“Ignore the little talking box device for now, can you show me more of your magic?”
That was the question Johnny had asked at least three times a day in the week you had been on his earth. It was cute, the way his eyes would light up with excitement like a little kid every single time you showed him something new. That sparkle in them, the grin that lit up his face every single time, as he’d beg you to show him again.
You tried not to focus too much on how cute it actually was.
“What haven’t I shown you at this point?” you laughed, smile bright, though you already knew the answer. There was a neverending stream of things you could show him.
“There has to be something,” he sat up a little straighter, leaning even more into your personal space now. “Come on, I have a witch sitting in front of me. I thought those only existed in movies and books. You can’t blame a guy for being interested, baby.”
Ignoring that pet name that so easily fell from Johnny’s lips, you took a quick glance around the room. Acting as the centerpiece of the table sat a fresh bouquet of wildflowers, curated by Sue herself and brought up as a gift. Leaning forward, you plucked a single daisy from the bunch, leaning back and holding it in the space between you and Johnny.
Your eyes never stopped watching him as that familiar swirl of blue magic seeped from you, enveloping the delicate flower. The thin, white petals merged together into five beautiful petals, the white coloring fading into an enchanting ombre of orange and pink. Then, as fast as it started, your magic dissipated and the blue hue that lit up Johnny’s face disappeared.
He took the new flower from you with the brightest of grins, a sight that stirred something deep within your chest you were keen to ignore. He took a single sniff, eyes glancing back to you as his smile slipped into a charming little smirk.
“What did that poor daisy ever do to you?”
“It wasn’t a Plumeria,” you shot back with a slight laugh, plucking the flower from his hand and slipping it back into the vase. “They’re my favorite flower.”
“Noted,” he casually stretched his arm over the back of the couch, resting it over the portion directly behind your head, as that charming smirk grew even more. “Want them incorporated into the wedding decor, or should I pin one to my suit jacket so you can see it while we stand together at the altar?”
With a bright laugh, your hand met his face, pushing him back slightly as you rose from the couch, sauntering over into the kitchen with your empty glass. You could feel his eyes on you with every step.
“I have to hand it to you, Johnny, your flirting this past week has definitely gotten more brazen with each passing hour. Be careful, you might fall in love,”
“Too late, that happened when you first turned around,” shooting a glance back at him on the couch, he dramatically flopped backward on the cushions, pretending an arrow had just struck him in the chest. It was impossible not to shake your head and laugh at the sight. “I took one look at you and thought…wow, that’s the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”
You hummed in response, pouring yourself another glass.
“Does your charm and your flattery typically get you places with the ladies?”
“Depends, is it working right now?”
Ben had warned you about Johnny’s charming personality and what would surely be incessant attempts at flirting, but you hadn’t thought the man would be as persistent as he had been this past week.
You’d taken to keeping a running list in your head of some of your favorite lines of Johnny’s that he’d thrown your way.
Are love spells a thing? You could put one on me and I wouldn’t even notice: I’m already too far gone for you, baby.
Do you think you fell into our universe because you and I were made to find each other?
Before you head back to your universe eventually, we should send you back with the last name Storm. I think it fits you nicely.
Each one had made you laugh, and you begrudgingly had to admit that most of them were quite cute. It helped that Johnny Storm was as charming as they came.
From the moment you had laid eyes on him in that park that night you’d known it. This man was a heartbreaker, a face that girls across the world surely had hanging on their bedroom walls and were fawning over. Magazines called him a playboy, his personal fan club, The Flaming Hearts, swooned at his feet over how he was the ideal man women should strive for. You saw why they fawned: Johnny was attractive, anyone with eyes could see it. Perfectly swept to the side blonde hair, blue eyes that felt deeper than the ocean, and the charm and wit to have you laughing into the night.
He could flirt all he wanted, but it was going to take more than a flirty comment and a pretty smile to make you feel a thing. Johnny Storm wasn’t the first charming man you’d ever encountered, and he surely wouldn’t be the last.
“Sorry, pretty boy,” you shook your head, finishing off your glass that you’d just poured before dumping it into the sink for later. “Takes a little more than superficial flattery to butter me up.”
“I’m pretty sure you just called me pretty, that has to count for something,”
“It doesn’t,” you shot back, leaning against the island counter as you looked across the room toward him. Johnny was rolling off the couch in the most unelegant way, hopping back up to his feet to lean against the other side of the counter from you, shooting you a wink.
“You know what they say–denial is the first step to falling in love,”
“Acceptance. The quote ends in acceptance,” you barked out another laugh, shaking your head as the man as you stood up straighter. “Now, what did you actually come up here for, or was it just to bother me?”
Johnny clapped, eyes going wide as he seemed to remember exactly why he’d come upstairs in the first place.
“Right! It’s Sunday, family dinner night. You’re invited, and I was volun-told to come and get you,”
“Of course, because I’m sure you really protested being given that job,”
As charming as ever, he shot you another wink as he banged his hands on the table.
“You already know me so well, darling,”
“Are the pet names necessary?”
“Why, are they making you swoon?” yet another wink was shot at you.
“Johnny, I’m sure your charm works on just about every other woman in this universe. You want me to swoon? It’s going to take a lot more than that,” you pointed toward the shirt on his body, the bright blue logo over his chest shining in the light. “Plus, wearing your own team merch all the time? How superficial of you.”
He feigned hurt over your comment, looking down at the logo himself.
“I’m just representing the team. Plus, it’s comfortable, like our suits are too,” Johnny instantly snapped his fingers, eyes wide again as he giddily smiled toward you across the counter. “Your suit! You’ve never shown me your superhero suit! Come on, I’m dying with anticipation here, baby.”
Even as you rolled your eyes, you indulged his request. With a single flick of your wrist, your clothing shimmered in blue tendrils of magics, transforming it into the suit you knew like it was a second skin. Reinforced black and blue fabric that trailed high up your neck and down to your wrists, down your waist and finally tucked into the black boots that sat directly below your knees. That shimmering silver “A” still sat on your belt, something you were never able to part with.
Johnny let out a low whistle, teeth biting into his bottom lip as his eyes scanned you up and down over and over again.
“Hot damn…remember that comment I made about being turned on? Yeah, yeah this is doing it for me,”
With yet another eye roll, something you were learning you did quite frequently around him, you waved off the magic and dissipated the suit once again. The look you shot at him was anything but impressed, even if you were trying to hold back laughter.
“Why are you like this?”
Before some other flirty comment could fall from his lips, the elevator dinged across the room, its large doors sliding open. Neither of you were expecting it to be little Franklin Richards stumbling out on his tiny, wobbly legs.
Tufts of blonde hair on his head, blue eyes wide as could be, a happy little smile overtook his face as he spotted the two of you in the kitchen. His little hands clapped together, incoherent but otherwise happy babbles falling from his lips.
“Frankie! What has your mom told you about playing with the elevator, little guy?”
Johnny was across the room in seconds, sweeping Franklin into his arm with a single swipe. The laughter of little Franklin echoed through the room as Johnny dipped him, practically holding the little guy upside down, before spinning him upright. The little boy wearing a matching grin to his uncle, the man he could practically be a twin of, continued to laugh as Johnny pulled his shirt up, blowing a raspberry directly into his stomach and muttering something about how ‘magic babies never listen to their mothers.’
The skip your heart did at the sight was enough to have the beginnings of a flush crawling up your skin. Maybe his charm didn’t work on you, not his flirty jokes, but this? Seeing the side of Johnny Storm that the media didn’t see, the part that wasn’t the persona he played up for the world, was enough to bring a soft smile to your face and to fully understand why people across the world fell for him so easily.
Willing the blush to go away, desperate to hide the evidence that you did, in fact, find this man cute, you stalked across the room until you came to stand beside the man and his laughing nephew. They both turned to look at you, looking like twins with their bright smiles and blue eyes. Another round of giggles fell from Franklin as you swiped your finger over the edge of his nose slightly, pushing past them both toward the waiting elevator.
“Well, come on then. Guess I shouldn’t be late for my first family dinner with the Fantastic Four,”
In all honesty, you needed Johnny to put Franklin down. He looked too adorable, making faces at the little boy as he pressed the button for the main living area on the elevator. Franklin just continued to clap, babbling nonsense.
“You’re good with him,” you cut through the silence after a moment, smile still soft as you watched the two of them beside you in the confined space.
Johnny glanced up, an air of sheepishness finding him as he laughed lightly, looking back at Franklin. The little boy was watching you once again.
“Yeah, well, what can I say? Always loved kids,”
Bringing your hand up between the two of you, with a single thought you let a little ball of blue magic appear along your fingertips. Franklin’s eyes widened, following the movement of the little ball of magic as you rolled it around your fingertips, dancing it around his head and back to your hand.
Your eyes flickered to Johnny after a moment. His head rested against the wall of the elevator still slowly moving its way down. His smile was soft, softer than you’d seen it look at you before this week, his eyes holding a gentle pensiveness as they watched you.
“What?” you questioned lightly. He shrugged, adjusting Franklin on his hip.
“Nothing. You’re just good with him, too,”
“Well, he’s not the first baby in my life,” you answered, the edges of your smile dropping just a fraction as you thought about her. The little girl that was only, what, 6 years old now? Brown hair and eyes just like her father’s, the wit and sass to match it. Universes away from you, a little piece of someone you used to hold so dear that you may never see again.
“Whoever you’re thinking about,” Johnny was more observant than you gave him credit for, picking up immediately on the thoughts that seemed to plague your mind, even if he didn’t know the full extent of them. His fingers lightly grazed your cheek, an action that you so wished didn’t feel so nice. Comforting, warm with the heat that burned within him, brushing a strand piece of hair back behind your ear, tucking it there. You met his gaze, burning with a quiet determination. “You’ll see them again. We’ll get you home.”
Ignoring the slight flutter behind your ribcage, you raised an eyebrow at him.
“Oh, you’re suddenly content with letting me go? I remember Ben telling me yesterday that you were planning to keep me trapped here forever,”
His laughter echoed into the living room as the doors to the elevator pushed open, allowing the three of you to step out into the room fully. Ben was hard at work in the kitchen, calling out things to their little helper robot, Herbie, who zoomed around the kitchen at his command. Reed’s arm stretched out across the room, setting the table without ever leaving the kitchen, his other arm wrapped around his wife as Sue laughed at something he said.
“Oh I’ll help get you home, but there are conditions to your departure,” Johnny shot back, walking alongside you toward the dining room. “The one non-negotiable is that you have to leave unequivocally in love with me-”
“Whoa, that’s a big word for you, Johnny-”
“You also have to leave admitting that I’m the most charming man that you’ve ever met-” he cut back in, cutting you off after you had cut him off.
“I mean, you’re definitely on your way to joining the ranks of Tony, Quill, and Joaquin-”
“You also have to leave with the last name Storm,” Johnny spun, back facing the kitchen, as he shot you a wink. “We can negotiate that one. I don’t want to rush our wedding, but I’d prefer you go back home with it. A little something to remember me by.”
Sue Storm was quick to slap Johnny on the shoulder as he dipped into the kitchen, practically tossing the laughing baby into his sister’s arms, before ducking around her to dip his hand into the pot of sauce that Ben was working to season. His rocky hand whacked Johnny on the shoulder, who pretended to crumble to the ground in pain as Ben cried out “you haven’t even washed your hands!”. Reed’s arm stretched across the room, coming between the two and pushing his brother-in-law to the other side of the kitchen without a word, trying to maintain a semblance of peace.
Sue sighed, pressing a kiss to her son’s head, before she turned to you: still standing still, frozen in place by the dining room table, watching the events before you unfold with a smile you couldn’t hide if you tried.
“Welcome to family dinners,” she told you with a laugh, Ben once again yelling at Johnny in the background as he dipped his hand into a cereal box. “Before you ask: yes, it is always this chaotic.”
The chaos was nice, it almost felt like home. A home you hadn’t known for years now. Watching them, you could almost picture them all, the family you used to have: a flash of Natasha’s red hair in your head, the sound of Steve’s laughter, Tony’s quips that Sam always met back just as quick, Wanda muttering to you about how you worked with idiots.
Johnny’s eyes met yours again, a soft smile and a playful wink sent your way before he ducked out of the way of Ben’s arm again, and that was somehow enough to soothe that ache in your heart for just one night
❤︎
“I know people usually look exhausted after leaving Reed’s lab…but you were down there for two hours. I’m surprised you’re alive,”
Stalking across the room into the kitchen of the Baxter Building, you faked a laugh in Ben’s direction, dipping into the fridge for a bottle of water to nurse the headache you could feel approaching. The man let out a laugh at your actions, shaking off his oversized trench coat and tossing it over toward the dining room as he placed the multiple paper bags in his hands down on the counter.
“I am, too,” you shot back at him, hopping up onto the island counter beside him to sit. Ben just laughed at your antics, rifling through the bags on the counter from the market down the street. “He asked for more blood tests, so I consented even though I told him he’s not going to find any answers to why I have magic in my blood.”
“And did he?”
“NO!”
Ben’s laugh thundered through the room as he put some of the groceries away in the cupboards. Returning to the island counter, he dipped into a smaller, white paper bag, producing a small sleeve of paper holding a warm cookie within. The headache you felt coming on almost completely dissipated the second the sweet smell filled the air.
“Good thing I grabbed some of these, then. Eat, before you pass out from blood loss,” you didn’t argue, taking the gooey chocolate chip cookie from him with a smile and sinking your teeth in. “It’s from Maisie’s. Figured it was about time I showed you the best cookies in town, not sure how I held off for two months.”
Two months. It was a time period you tried not to dwell on. If you thought too long about how long you’d been stuck in another universe with no way back home, you were sure you’d start spiraling more than you did every night that your head hit the pillow of the guest floor. The guest floor that was slowly just becoming your floor.
If you thought about it too long, you’d remember how you were starting to forget the sound of Sam’s laugh. How this was the longest you’d gone without visiting Pepper, how Morgan was probably asking where you were. You hadn’t put flowers at Nat’s grave in so long, you could only hope her sister had gone and changed the flowers.
“Well, it’s quite good,” with a slight shake of your head, you sent Ben a strained grin, enjoying the taste of the cookie. It wasn’t a lie, it was quite possibly the best cookie you’d ever had.
Ben hummed, holding your gaze for a moment, before he smiled. It was soft, but you could see it woven in: the pity.
“Thinking about home?”
You swallowed, both the bite of the cookie you’d taken and the lump that formed in your throat.
“Yeah…always am. I hate how good you are at reading me, by the way,” Ben chuckled at your comment, returning to putting the rest of the groceries away in their designated spots. “Reed offered to invent multidimensional travel again today.”
“Did you say yes?”
“No, I turned him down like I do every time,” Ben returned as you shook your head with a wry laugh. “It sucks because I know he could do it, he’d have me home within a week. But multiverse traversal spells exist, they have for a very long time, which means they obviously don’t blow a hole in the space-time continuum. I don’t need Reed to accidentally blow a hole in the entire multiverse just to get me home.”
Ben hummed. Placing one hand on the counter, his other rocky hand laid across both of your legs, delivering the slightest of squeezes in comfort that he was able to. You looked up, meeting his eyes, and practically melted under the kindness and comfort in them.
“You’re going to go home, I promise you that. You’re homesick: it’s where you belong, it’s full of the people you love, and we’ll get you back there. But think of it like this: you’re in a different universe, how many people get to experience that? Take it in, enjoy it, learn from it, eat all the Maisie’s cookies this world has to offer. The people you love will still be waiting for you back home, no matter how long it takes to get there,”
He moved away, his hand sliding back down to his side and he returned to the groceries. But his words stuck with you, hung in the air, settled deep within you.
The quiet hung there in the room for a moment as you just watched him, placing cereal box after cereal box on a shelf near the fridge. He met your gaze again when he turned around, rocky brow raising in question as you let a sigh slip past your smiling lips.
“You remind me a lot of Steve,” Ben waited, letting you collect your thoughts, never pushing. “He always knew what to say, especially to me. That’s how it feels talking to you a lot, like I’m talking to him again. I…I miss being able to talk to him.”
“Well, you can talk to me anytime,” he motioned his hand toward the cupboards of the island counter blocked by your legs. Sliding off the countertop, you stepped to the side as he bent down to put another bag away. “Who do the others remind you of?”
You mulled the question over in your head, grabbing a bag from the counter and helping Ben place the rest of the groceries away across the kitchen.
“I think Reed has to be Bruce, simply because they’re both too smart of their own good. Sue reminds me a lot of Natasha, with the way she takes care of everyone. Nat was quiet about it, but she was always picking up after the boys. Johnny…unfortunately reminds me of Tony. He’s got his same sass, wit, charm and flirtatious nature,”
Ben waved his hand in the air, a grimace on his face.
“Please, no, I don’t want to think about there being another Johnny out there in the multiverse,” you laughed, catching the bottle he threw in your direction to slot into the fridge. “Speaking of matchstick, where’s he at? He’s usually attached to your hip, what with his whole plan of whatever he calls it-”
“Ah, you mean Johnny Storm’s Complete Guide to the 60s?”
It was the dumbest name in the world, but given that Johnny had named it, you weren’t surprised. He’d taken it upon himself to give you a complete guide to what the 60s were like, with the added footnote that the weirdly futuristic 60s they lived in was bound to be different than the 60s of your own universe. Johnny had claimed you were too ‘cooped up’ on your floor of the building, and it was time you got out and ‘lived a little’ since you were here.
Johnny’s guide to the 60s began with bowling. He’d been so excited, sliding into those custom shoes for the alleyways, that you didn’t have the heart to tell him until you were beating him by 70 points in the 8th frame that bowling was very much the same game in the 2020s.
“No, that’s unfair!” Johnny had called out, mouth dropped open as he pointed an accusatory finger in your direction. The manual scoresheet in his hand was all but crumpled at this point. “You didn’t tell me bowling was still a thing!”
“To be fair, Johnny, you didn’t ask,” was the only response you could manage through your laughter, grabbing your ball once more and aligning yourself with the lane in front of you. “Bowling is very much still around, and very much the same game. I guess you just aren’t as good at it as you think you are.”
You weren’t laughing long, a spark of heat igniting along the back of your hand just as you let go of your ball. Your hand jerked immediately at the feeling, sending your ball rolling straight into the gutter. Mouth dropped open, it was your turn to point an accusatory finger in Johnny’s direction.
“Hey!”
“Leveling the playing field here, baby,” he teased, skirting by you as his fingers bumped your chin slightly, before he grabbed his own ball as his body was racked with laughter. “Now, let me show you how good I really am at this game.”
Johnny’s own laughter was short-lived. His ball made it halfway down the lane before coming to a sudden stop along the slick surface, surrounded by a hum of blue magic that flicked it off into the gutter. His betrayed face turned to face you, met with your smirk and hand held out toward the ball. You only batted your eyelashes at him.
“Hey, if you’re going to level the playing field with powers, then I am too. It’s only fair,”
“Oh, I’m going to show you fair-”
The laughter that poured out of you mixed with a shriek the second Johnny practically tackled you, throwing your body over his shoulder like it was nothing and parading you down the alley, highfiving little kids along the way as you could do nothing but laugh, smile never slipping for a second.
Go-Karting, on the other hand, was definitely a little different in the 60s. The karts themselves were much different, a lot less structurally sound at times and incapable of doing the speeds that you knew Johnny really had wanted to drive them at. He had claimed to win the race fair and square, even as you pointed out that he’d gone as far as to melt one of your tires right before you crossed the finish line.
Record stores, golfing, roller-skating, you named it and Johnny dragged you off to do it. He filled every moment with vibrant stories: the record store was one that Sue liked to take him to when they were growing up, golf was something he fell in love with after coming back from space with powers, and how roller skating was something he swore he’d never do, but the smile on your face the entire time had been well worth it.
The diner had been your favorite. Griddles & Waffles, nestled deep in the heart of Queens. A 24/7 joint that sold breakfast and breakfast only, a beloved place by locals. Johnny had been awake into the early hours of the morning that night, the only one still up, diving into a box of cereal buried in the kitchen when you screamed. The next thing you knew, he was practically diving out of the elevator onto your floor as you shakily grabbed a glass of water in the kitchen, eyes wide and panicked as he informed you that he could hear you scream floors away. One look at the state you were in and he was shoving you into the hoodie he was wearing and shoving you out of the building and into his car.
“You took me to a place with waffles in the name, and you ordered pancakes?”
Johnny’s eyebrow shot up, half of the stack of pancakes in front of him practically shoved into his mouth as he pointed the fork in his hand in your direction.
“Don’t you ever diss these pancakes, you hear me? Best flat pieces of dough in the entire state of New York,”
You couldn’t help but laugh lightly under your breath as he barely got his words out through the food in his mouth. Taking another bite of your own waffle, it was easy to get lost in the decor of the diner. Bright colors, shiny metal gleaming under the lights, it looked exactly like the recreations that existed in your own universe. The simple thought of home brought your frown back in seconds, and Johnny was instantly snapping his fingers.
“No, there’s no frowning in Griddles & Waffles, you hear me?” you rolled your eyes, but that simple thought weighed heavy on you, lips still pulled into a frown. Johnny made some motion toward the waitress before he leaned into the table toward you, drawing your gaze to him and his waiting, patient, gentle eyes. “Honey, I’m surprised that scream didn’t wake anyone else up. What’s wrong?”
“It was nothing. Just a nightmare…a memory of a day I don’t like thinking about,” you tried to deflect, shoving your fork around your plate, scraping it against the ceramic. Johnny’s hand caught yours, his eyes still soft and gentle, as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze until you relented. “It’s…I don’t like talking about it. I don’t get nightmares about it often anymore, but when I do, it feels like I’m there again: in that forest full of nothing but blood and dust.”
The blonde hummed, fingers gently rubbing small circles into your knuckles. His skin was warm, unusually warm from the heat that coursed through him, the feel of it on your skin bringing a sense of comfort. Then, he took his hand away, holding both his hands out like he was presenting something, that dazzling smirk of his lighting up his face.
“Have no fear, because Griddles & Waffles has the perfect cure for sadness!”
The waitress came back, sliding a single tall glass onto the table between the two of you with two straws tossed down onto the tabletop. You glanced at it: one large, over the top, classic chocolate milkshake with a large cherry resting right on top. You looked back up at him, your eyebrow raised this time.
“A milkshake? At two in the morning?”
“Have some faith in me, baby,” Johnny teased, slipping the two straws into the shake with ease. He took the cherry between his fingers, easily biting off the majority of the fruit as he twirled the stem between his teeth. Your eyes flicked down for just a second, to the stem between his lips and the hint of red juice that covered them, before your skin flushed and your eyes were back on his. “This is about to be the best milkshake you’ve ever had, and it’s going to cure every bit of sadness in your body.”
Johnny was known for exaggerating, but you indulged him anyway. With a short eyeroll you leaned in, taking a single sip from the straw pointed in your direction. Johnny waited, his smile wide and bright as his fingers tapped against the table, the sound echoing through the mostly empty diner in the middle of the night.
“...alright, it’s pretty damn good,”
His cheer echoed through the diner, the waitress shooting him an unimpressed look as his hands banged down on the table. Another round of laughter slipped past your lips as you shook your head at his antics.
“See? You have to trust me more often,” Johnny teased, leaning in to take a sip of the shake from his own straw. “These milkshakes are the cure to sadness.”
You didn’t have the guts in that moment to tell him the shake didn’t cure anything. No, you felt lighter simply from that boyish grin and the laughter that fell from Johnny Storm’s lips, something you weren’t keen to admit quite yet.
“Talking about me, baby? I leave you alone in the lab for a few hours and you miss me that much?”
As if hearing his name from floors away, Johnny Storm himself came strutting straight into the kitchen, charm rolling off him with every step he took. That smile of his was as bright as ever, eyes wide and full of mirth.
He practically skipped up to your side, tossing the box of food in your hand somewhere onto the counter. Cradling your hand in his, he brought it to his lips without another thought, pressing a featherlight kiss to your knuckles. His gaze never wavered from you the entire time.
With a roll of your eyes, though paired with a smile full of affection, you shoved him off, placing the box of food he’d just tossed away into its rightful place as you shot him a look over your shoulder.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Johnny. Contrary to what you think, you are not the only thing I’m thinking about,”
“You see, but that implies that I am one of the things you’re thinking about,” his response came easily as he made his way over to Ben, stealing one of Maisie’s cookies from the bag before he could be stopped. Ben only let out a sigh that could probably be heard from the other side of the city. “Nevermind that, though, I came here on a mission. The sun is setting and we’ve got a 40 minute drive, so get upstairs and attempt to look even cuter than you already do, if that’s possible.”
Exchanging a quick look with Ben as Johnny walked backwards out of the kitchen and back into the living room, you both looked back at the blonde moments later.
“Get ready for what?” you questioned. “To go where?”
“Long Island, sweetheart. Your guide to the 60s continues tonight,” he paused at the stairway, one hand on the railing and the other pointing across the room toward you. “Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes, got it?”
You considered arguing, but the truth was, you didn’t want to. Every one of these excursions with Johnny so far had been fun, had been enough to fill that little hole in your chest for a fleeting moment, and right now you wanted that more than anything.
“Alright, ten minutes,”
He clapped, beginning to move up the stairs as he practically shouted across the room.
“Good girl. It’s a date-”
“It is not a date-” your words fell on deaf ears as he went sprinting up the stairs, yelling out a distant “It very much is a date!” from the next floor. It was impossible to ignore the heat spreading in your cheeks at his words, though.
The silence of the room only hung there for a minute before Ben’s laughter filled it, echoing off the walls. Shutting your eyes for a moment, you let out a deep breath, trying to understand the enigma that was Johnny Storm sometimes, before patting Ben on the shoulder as you moved toward the elevator.
“Well, wish me luck on whatever this next excursion is. Hopefully it doesn’t involve him almost whacking me in the head with a golf club again,”
“You’ll be just fine,” Ben called out from the kitchen, speaking through his laughter. You could clearly hear the underlying teasing tone to his words. “Have fun on your date-”
“Benjamin, don’t start with me!”
It might not have been a date, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to try. There really was no reason to, though: Johnny had seen you at your worst over the last two months. Always arriving on your floor sometimes at the crack of dawn with an idea for the day, startling you before you even had a chance to wipe away the mess of tears streaking across your cheeks from yet another nightmare you’d just awoken from.
It wasn’t a date. Just because you chose the cutest pair of pants and a sweater that the closet full of 60s style clothes offered didn’t mean anything. Not a damn thing.
You hated to admit how good Johnny looked in just a simple grey sweater and some slacks. Strutting toward you through the lobby of the Baxter Building, employees already sent home for the day and leaving the lobby bathed in silence, he let out a short whistle as he came to a stop in front of you.
“You say it’s not a date, but you sure do look nice,”
“That’s because your sister filled my closet with all nice clothing,” you shot back.
Johnny hummed, eyes still scanning you up and down. Eyes finding yours again, he held out his arm to you, just as he typically did on these little excursions.
“Come on,”
Hand resting in the crook of his elbow, the cool night air sank deep into your bones as you stepped outside. Johnny’s hand was quick to find the handle to the passenger side door of his custom blue Corvette, swinging it open and taking your hand in his to help you into the leather seat, just as he always did.
The leather made a noise as you shifted, buckling yourself into place as Johnny cooly slid into the driver’s seat. One hand rested on the wheel, the other drumming along the knob of the gearshift as his foot hit the gas, sending you speeding out of the drive of the Baxter Building and onto the roads of New York.
“What’s today’s adventure?” you asked after a few moments of silence. Johnny’s grin simply brightened, his glance finding you beside him for a second before his fingers turned the knobs of the radio on, filling the call with music as he continued to cruise down the streets he knew like the back of his hand.
“That’s a surprise, sweetheart. Just enjoy the drive,”
It was easy to enjoy it. The same city you’d grown up in, yet so different at the same time. Every building looked new, the atmosphere felt lighter than New York had for you in years, everything about the city you knew so well felt different. The lights, the skyline, everything still felt like home as you crossed the East River, flying through the streets of Brooklyn and eventually Queens.
The heaviness eventually found you, though, just like it had every day for the last two months. As city lights shone off the windows of the Corvette, bathing you in its light, your mind still wandered back to memories. The first time Tony had driven you upstate to the new compound in the passenger seat of the god awful orange Audi. The quietness that came with the blip, the way the entire city fell still. The sweeter moments, like dragging your best friend from the compound late one night and sneaking into the city, sitting along the Brooklyn Bridge to admire the lights.
“Hey,” those memories came to a halt, Johnny’s hand brushing across your knee, settling there with a gentle squeeze. “You’re thinking hard over there.”
You hummed, head still resting on your hand as your elbow sat against the window of the car door. You let your eyes settle on his hand, just watching the way his thumb drew circles into the side of your knee.
“Reminiscing on my New York, that’s all,”
“Ah, getting homesick,” the sight of Johnny nodding was just barely visible out of the side of your eyes, His hand slid from you, joining his other hand on the wheel. “You’ll go home, back to your futuristic universe eventually, I know it. Then you can forget all about us in this little universe.”
The radio was blaring a Frank Sinatra song, something much too slow for the night time around you. The song crackled through the speakers as you glanced over, observing the side of Johnny’s face. For a man that hid behind such an extravagant persona for the media and the fans, you could see right through it. That hint of sadness in his own features, woven into the creases of his eyes and the lines around his lips, at the thought of you leaving.
I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast. I fall in love too terribly hard.
“I think you’re underestimating how much I will miss you guys when I go home,” you told him simply, the music playing lightly through the speakers. It really was that simple, it was the truth. “I’ll miss you guys a lot. I’ll miss you.”
Johnny’s hand seemed to tighten along the steering wheel for just a second, so quick you almost missed it. Those blue eyes glanced over at you, catching your gaze. His features were riddled with something you couldn’t understand, but could see how gentle it was, until his charming smile was back, wiping away any trace of the strange emotion you had seen.
“Careful there, little witch. It’s starting to sound like you’re falling unequivocally in love with me-”
His laughter filled the car, overtaking the sound from the radio as your hand reached out and shoved his shoulder, your own laughter mixing in with his own.
“You’re fucking impossible, Johnny Storm,”
Of everywhere that you could’ve thought Johnny would be dragging you to, a drive-in theater was the last place you would’ve imagined.
The entire stretch of lawn buried deep within the heart of Long Island was packed with cars of all different kinds, vintage ones you had never seen in person. There was a group of teenagers crowded around one of the cars, hugging their friends and talking animatedly between each other. Some couples walked through the lines of vehicles, giggling together under their breath as they carried their food from the little stand off to the side.
Johnny pulled the car to a stop in one of the last remaining spots, side windows immediately rolling down to allow the sound from the mounted speakers to infiltrate the car. Night had set in, an announcement projected onto the large screen that the movie would begin soon, as you turned to find Johnny already watching you with a wide grin.
“Come on, don’t tell me you’ve been to drive-in theaters too?”
“They’re still a thing, but I’ve never been,” was the response you gave, a small laugh falling from your lips as he excitedly punched the air. “I have always wanted to go to one, though”
“Then your wish, princess,” in his usual dramatic fashion, Johnny stole your hand in his. With a kiss placed to your knuckles, he was already halfway out of the car before you could truly process the moment. “Is my command. Be right back with the snacks.”
You watched him the entire time he was gone. From the moment he slipped out of the car to ordering something from the snack stand, you watched. Even as the young girl working behind the counter seemed to fangirl at the sight of the Human Torch in front of her.
His charm was stupid most of the time. Little one liners, flirtatious jokes, touches that were all but friendly in nature. You didn’t care for a single one of those moments. It had been awhile, but you’d seen Tony use the same tricks. In the briefest of time you had known Peter Quill even he had tried it. Those moments meant nothing to you, but these did.
Bringing you breakfast in the morning just so you didn’t have to be alone. Dragging you around the city to participate in a thousand activities on the off chance that you hadn’t done them before, once again so that you wouldn’t feel alone and left with your thoughts. Hearing a single scream from you, seeing a single tear, and dragging you through New York in the middle of the night just to see you smile again. Those moments worked on you–meant something to you–more than you wanted them to.
The moment he was swarmed by a bunch of little kids trying to leave the snack stand didn’t help the turmoil you felt inside either. Johnny didn’t complain, not once, simply balanced the food in one arm so he could lean down and high five one of the girls, ruffling the hair of another little boy standing right next to her. He smiled wide, you could see the shake of his chest as he threw his head back in laughter, igniting his hand quickly as the kids all clapped and gasped in awe at the sight of their own personal superhero. There was a news reporter nearby, calling out for a photo that Johnny happily posed for with the kids, leaving them with one last story that had them all looking up at him in awe and adoration.
You hated the stutter that occurred in your heart. You weren’t dumb–you knew what it meant. Johnny Storm was charming, handsome, a literal superhero that had captured the hearts of the entire world. He, also, was the most down to earth man you had ever met sometimes, more observant than you gave him credit for, and too sweet for his own good.
If you thought hard enough, you could almost hear Wong’s voice in your head, scolding you for slowly falling for a man from an entirely different universe. The definition of a man you could never have, never meant to be yours.
“Got swarmed by some little kids, had to make sure I showed off the flames,” Johnny’s voice broke through your thoughts as he slid back into the car, passing a bag of popcorn over the console and into your hands. Just as he did, the large screen in the lot changed, the beginnings of the movie beginning to play as some of those teenagers from earlier began to clap and holler. “Just in time.”
Shaking those thoughts from your head, trying to will them away, you brought your gaze back to the screen. The opening shots of the credits, directors names and actors names plastered across the screen as it dove into the first scene without hesitation, situated on some mountain with hoards of people who were dressed for an even more vastly different time period than now.
“Spartacus?” a questioning glance was thrown Johnny’s way from you as you took a quick bite of your popcorn. “An action/adventure movie was your choice for a drive-in movie date?”
“Hey, you’re the one who said this wasn’t a date,” Johnny retorted, meeting your glance as he took in another handful of popcorn himself with a cheeky grin. “Besides, I didn’t peg you to be a romance movie kind of girl.”
“On some occasions I can be,” you gave back with a shrug. “A good action movie is definitely more my speed, though, so good choice.”
“What can I say, I know you,”
He did. He really did.
It was barely an hour into this three hour movie when your mind finally began to drift off again. Legs curled up on the seat under you, your own popcorn bag finished off and discarded at your feet as you reached over to steal from Johnny’s own bag, you found your thoughts leaving the movie once more. But instead of thinking about home, about the people you lost or the ones waiting for you to come back, you found them on Johnny once again.
Watching the side of his face quietly, you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him mouth some of the words to the movie under his breath, almost mimicking the accents of the actors themselves. It was enough to elicit a small giggle from your lips, bringing his gaze from the movie over to you instead.
“Are you quoting this movie word for word?”
“Hey, don’t knock it. I happen to really like this movie,” your giggles persisted, even as Johnny reached into his bag and tossed a handful of popcorn in your direction. “You should see Ben watching Breakfast at Tiffany’s, he could probably act that entire movie out for you. Don’t tell him I told you that.”
“You’re both such dorks,”
“Come on, don’t you have a movie you can quote?”
You hummed, letting the question sit with you for a moment, memories rushing back over you.
“Not a movie, but a show. Full House,” Johnny’s gaze never left you, the movie long abandoned in his eyes for a moment. An idea sprang to mind, your head tilting ever so slightly as you shot him a grin. “Want to see it?”
Excitement crawled into Johnny’s eyes immediately, his head nodding as he sat up straighter in the driver’s side seat.
You took a deep breath. Holding up your hand to the door beside you, that familiar blue magic seeped from your fingertips as that same color glowed in the irises of your eyes, crawling along the interior of the car until it reached the windshield. Your eyes were watching Johnny once again, the absolute wonder in his eyes as his windshield shimmered in blue, before the screen through the windshield changed before your very eyes: gone were Kirk Douglas and Laurence Olivier, replaced instead by John Stamos and Bob Saget in that iconic kitchen of their San Francisco home.
With another flick of your hand, the speaker at your car switched, playing the sound of the show you were now broadcasting instead of the movie.
“Don’t worry, no one else can see or hear this. Just us,”
Johnny was barely paying attention to what you said, too busy dipping his head in and out of the window in shock and awe, the screen beyond the windshield still playing Spartacus while within the confines of the car your tv show was playing.
“You…I don’t know how you do it, but you somehow get hotter every time you use your magic,”
Laughing, you reached into his popcorn bag and threw an unpopped kernel at the side of his head. Resting back into your seat, arms wound around your knees, you found yourself lost in the scene before you on the screen.
“This was one of Wanda’s favorite shows,” after a minute of silence, engrossed in the scene, you told him. You could feel Johnny’s eyes watching you instead of the show. “She always liked older shows, like Bewitched or I Love Lucy. We used to watch this one all the time in the compound, whenever Steve didn’t have us training constantly.”
Johnny didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched you.
“She was your best friend, wasn’t she? I don’t think you’ve ever said her name,”
“That’s because it’s hard to talk about her,” finding his gaze again, the gentle comfort shining in his gaze washed over you, as if draping you in a blanket. Swallowing the lump in your throat that always formed when you thought too hard about her, you offered him the smallest smile you could muster. “Just a few weeks before I wound up in your universe, I lost her. She lost herself to dark magic, let it consume her, so like the brave woman she was, she chose to protect the world from herself.”
Your words hung in the air, neither of you speaking for a moment. The scene from the show continued to play out before you swiped your hand through the air, dissipating the magic and letting the picture and sound of the movie return to the screen and the little speaker. It hurt too much to relive those moments.
“Hey, do you think by showing me a show that hasn’t come out yet in my universe, this will mess up, like, space and time? Like, what if I go pitch this show to Hollywood real quick and get it made a whole decade before it’s supposed to get made?”
The car got quiet, the only sound being the audio from the movie still playing through the speakers. Raising an eyebrow, entire face contorted in confusion, soft laughter sputtered out of your lips at the simple comment.
“I…what? Johnny that…” his smile grew, as did your laughter as you struggled to get your words out. “Johnny, that doesn’t make any sense?”
“I’m aware,” his hand reached out, thumb and index finger pinching your chin between the soft pads of his fingers. Your breath caught, laughter dying down as you just stared at him, as he drew small circles into your skin, heat blooming under his touch. “You were getting sad. I just don’t like seeing you sad.”
Johnny’s words were so sincere. Not a hint of his usual charm, not a single signature Storm smirk in sight, just genuine affection. Genuine care for you, for your thoughts, for the way your memories made you feel.
The idea of never going home again hurt, but the idea of leaving the Fantastic Four? Of never seeing Johnny Storm again? That was starting to hurt even more.
Even as his blue Corvette was parked in front of the Baxter Building again late that night, headlights flickering off and plunging the car into darkness except for the street lights around the building, your eyes kept flickering back to him.
Driving through Queens, you no longer thought back on the memories of walking through the city one night with Steve when you were younger. Now, you thought about the diner, about the smile on Johnny’s face as he watched you try that milkshake in the dead of night. As you crossed over the bridge into the city, you didn’t think of the nights you and Wanda would sit on the edge and watch the city lights, you instead watched the way the lights danced over Johnny’s skin through the glass.
The elevator of the Baxter Building popped open on the floor of the main living room. The building was quiet, just a lamp in the corner by the staircase to the bedrooms lit up, everyone else fast asleep.
Johnny stepped out of the elevator, pausing just barely still in the doorway. One arm leaning on doors, keeping them open, you both just stood still and watched one another for a moment.
“For a not date, this very much felt like a date,” you threw at him after a moment. Those blue eyes of his lit up, smile lines etching themselves into his skin as his little grin grew immediately.
“Oh sweetheart, this definitely wasn’t a date. Our first date would be a lot different, trust me,”
You hummed, taking a step forward in the elevator, eyes never leaving his. There was barely space left between the two of you now. Johnny's sharp intake of breath was evident, the smile on your lips growing as you ignored every little voice in your head telling you this was a terrible idea.
“What would our first date be like?”
Surprise crawled into his expression. Eyes wide and bright, the smile on his face warped into something you couldn’t quite place. The hand tucked into the pocket of his slacks crawled forward, gingerly placing itself against your waist. Not pulling you closer, just lying there: steady, grounding, present. You didn’t push him away.
“The Regent,” he spoke softly but certainly, eyes never straying from yours. “Exclusive little dance hall just a few blocks away. Live band every night. You’d look just as beautiful as you always do, and I’d get to spend the entire night spinning you around in circles. Making you smile, watching you laugh, holding you close. That would be our first date.”
You hummed, stepping just a hair closer to him. His fingers flexed along your waist, squeezing ever so slightly, as one of your hands came to rest on his chest, looking up at him through your lashes.
“Sounds like you’ve thought about this,”
“Every night since the moment I realized you weren’t a threat that was coming to destroy my entire world…again,”
“I don’t know,” you teased, hand curling into the fabric of his shirt. “According to Sue, you’re kind of into that thing. I could always coat myself in some shiny silver paint if that does it for you.”
He huffed out a puff of air in laughter, tugging you in until you were pressed to his chest in the doorway of the elevator.
“No, you just have to be you. The pretty little witch that could cut off my oxygen supply with a flick of her wrist is all I need. All I want,”
Your eyes trailed down, along the bridge of his nose, until they settled on the pink of his lips. As you spoke, you never looked away from them.
“When would this date be?”
“Tomorrow night, 8 on the dot,”
“That’s so soon, eager?”
“Extremely, I’ve only been thinking about this for two months,”
Your laughter was soft as your eyes finally trailed back to his, only to find them settled on your lips in turn.
“It’s a date, then,”
His blue eyes found yours, shining with an affection that made your knees week. The hand gripping your waist trailed up, fingers dancing along every curve of your body, until it curled around your cheek to cup it within his hand. The heat of his skin bloomed through yours, sending a single shiver down your spine.
“You know,” his voice was low, eyes blown slightly wider than they had been before, as his eyes quickly darted back down to your lips for a moment. “This would be the moment during the date where I’d probably try and kiss you.”
Even with the flutter of butterflies through your chest, head feeling lighter than it ever had before, your lips curled into a wide grin. Eyes glowing blue for just a moment, a small burst of magic left the hand resting on his chest, pushing him backward and out of the elevator doors.
Johnny’s wide eyes watched you as he caught himself, steadying himself on the ground as he stared at you with a dumbfounded smile. You only returned the look, pressing the button for the guest floor without ever breaking eye contact.
“Guess you’ll have to try your luck tomorrow night,”
Even with the amount of bravado laced into your words as the elevator doors swung shut, cutting you off from Johnny’s captivating gaze, nothing could quell the swell of emotion building behind your chest at the simple thought of the blonde man who’d managed to capture your heart without even really trying.
❤︎
“I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you want to go on a date with matchstick. I mean, he’s my buddy, he's a great kid, but come on. There’s no one waiting for you back in your universe?”
Ben’s comment earned him another affectionate eyeroll from you, along with a deadpan look shot across the kitchen island counter.
He was deep into making a fresh batch of cookies that he had been given the recipe for, the little old woman he’d met claiming they could match the quality of Maisie’s cookies. Reed was skeptical of the recipe, trying to offer advice from further down the counter, but Ben waved him off every single time.
Little Franklin was sitting in his highchair at the counter between you and Sue, babbling incoherently as he played with the little pieces of cereal laid on the counter in front of him. You were simply flicking the little pieces around with little tendrils of blue magic, Sue laughing every single time Franklin tried to catch a piece and you yanked it away.
“No, Ben, there’s no one waiting for me back home,” was the answer you gave the man, never looking up once as you continued to toy with the food on the counter. “Being a superhero for most of your life kind of makes dating an impossible situation.”
“I, for one, fully support this,” Sue chimed in, rising from her chair to refill Franklin’s bottle on the counter. She passed behind you, reaching out to help smooth down the white long sleeve blouse along your shoulders, forcing you to adjust it along your waist where it was tucked into the navy blue slacks she had helped you pick out earlier on. “This is the first time I’ve seen Johnny so head over heels for a woman in a way that might just stick. He worships the ground that you walk on, I love to see it.”
“It helps that you could kill him if you really wanted to,” Ben threw in for good measure, ducking the slap that Sue tried to land on his shoulder. “Sometimes I think it’s a secret kink of his-”
“Okay, I don’t want to hear about what kinks my little brother may or may not have,”
You laughed at the antics you had grown so used to from the group in front of you. Franklin got upset with the constant moving of his little cereal bits, grabbing a handful and tossing them toward you. Wide eyed at his antics, you grabbed onto his tiny hand, blowing a raspberry into the palm of his hand as his shrieks and giggles sounded throughout the room.
“Reed, I’m surprised you don’t have any comments to add in,” you threw in the super genius’ direction. “Nothing about how we’re from two different universes, or how this could blow up the entire multiverse?”
“I’ve been taking notes regarding it, actually,” Ben’s groan sounded through the room the second Reed said it, pulling a notebook out of his back pocket and flipping it open. “Your genetic makeup, based on previous tests, seemed to align with ours, but that doesn’t mean that fundamentally there isn’t something woven into your DNA that doesn’t match with ours. There’s also the idea that, given you’re from two different universes, you were never supposed to meet, so if you managed to fall in love there could be an unforeseen breakdown of the fabric of the-”
Sue’s hand immediately clamped over her husband’s mouth, giving him an unimpressed look, as she shot you the brightest smile she could manage. She slid the now refilled cup for Franklin across the counter to you as you caught it, laughing under your breath at the entire situation as you handed it over to the little boy beside you who made grabby hands in its direction.
“What Reed means to say is that you’re good for him, and honestly, we haven’t seen you as happy as you’ve been the last few weeks since you started spending more time with him. Since you got here he hasn’t done a single PR nightmare worthy thing. I think Lynne might want to get you the keys to the city for it,”
“What are we getting my girl keys to the city for?”
Maybe his charm never worked on you, his endless flirtatious moves and jokes. But in this moment, as he descended the stairs into the living room and your heart stuttered over several beats, you finally understood the hoards of women across the universe that had Johnny Storm plastered across their walls and their hearts.
The navy blue button up he adorned clung to him, almost slightly too tight on him as the fabric pulled in the creases under his arms and by his waist. It was tucked into a pair of white chino pants, accented with navy blue dress shoes. His smile was bright, cheeky as it always was, his hands clasped together behind his back as he made his way across the living room.
Taking a semi-shaky stand on the strappy heels that Sue had helped you into before, you met him halfway across the room, a hush having fallen over the kitchen as you felt their eyes watching every movement both of you made.
Johnny’s eyes trailed up and down your body the second you came to a stop in front of him, taking in the navy blue of your pants and the white of your blouse, before he cheekily shot you a wink.
“Twinning on the first date? What’s the slang they use in your time for that? Couple goals, wasn't it?”
“Couple?” your eyebrow shot up. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Storm. You have to earn that.”
“Oh, I’ll earn it,” his hands finally unclasped from behind his back, thrusting out toward you. “For you, gorgeous.”
A beautiful bouquet of flowers: Plumeria flowers. Glittering in an ombre of pinks and oranges, taking you back to one of those first nights on that couch just a few floors away.
You took the bouquet in your hands, eyes never leaving Johnny’s as you inhaled the sweet scent that wafted from the petals. The adoration that shone in his blue eyes sent your heart into another flutter.
“My favorite,” you responded.
“What, did you think I’d forget?”
“Kind of,”
“Give me a little more credit, darling,” he lifted one of your hands from the bouquet, cradling it in his as he left a kiss along your knuckles. “When it comes to you, I don’t think I could forget even if I tried.”
“Can you two leave for your date and go flirt elsewhere? My god, this is painful to watch,”
Sue laughed at Ben’s comment, and you joined in. Johnny shot the man a look, flipping him the bird that you were sure was being shot right back at him from behind your back.
Sue saddled up to your side seconds later, plucking the bouquet from your hands with a soft smile.
“I’ll put these in water for you and leave them upstairs,” she shot her eyes to Johnny, narrowing them. “Treat her well or I will cover for her when she drags your lifeless body back later tonight.”
Too busy laughing, you never even noticed Johnny’s eye roll toward his sister. The only thing you could comprehend as he pulled you into the awaiting elevator was the feeling of his fingers slipping into the empty spaces between yours, intertwining your hand with his.
It felt right. Too right for two people who should have never met one another.
The Regent was situated just a few blocks away from the Baxter Building, the perfect distance to walk straight there. You weren’t complaining, not with the way Johnny gripped your hand like he was afraid you’d pull it away, every so often tugging it gently so that your body fell into his, arm brushing against his arm.
“We fought with Moleman–well, I guess he prefers to be called Harvey–right here,” he pointed out just a few blocks from the Baxter Building, gesturing toward the blocked off area right beside a small park. There were fences up around what looked like a giant hole in the ground with just the very top of a building sticking out of it, signs indicating ‘keep out’ to everyone that walked past. “He runs Subterranea, the whole civilization under New York.”
“There’s an entire city under this city?” you questioned, looking up at him in alarm.
“Oh yeah, you guys don’t have that?” he quirked an eyebrow toward you as you shook your head in response. “He stole the entire Pan Am building, sinking it down into the ground before we could stop him. Been years and they’re still working on what to do with it.”
You took a single glance around: 45th Street and Park Avenue. The familiar intersection made you smile, one that Johnny seemed to understand all too well. Taking a quick glance around to ensure that there weren’t too many people watching, you slipped your hand from Johnny’s in order to tilt his head to look at where the building used to stand. With a single wave of your fingertips toward his temples, blue seeping into his eyes, you could see the moment they widened at the sight you were projecting to him.
“In my world, this was the site of the Avengers tower,” you could see the glamour you were showing him, but you knew it like the back of your hand. The tower that hung high above the skyline of the city, the shining ‘A’ that matched the one hanging from the belt of your suit. “It was Stark Tower, until Tony decided to fashion it into a base of operations for the team after the battle of New York.”
The vision faded, the traces of your magic leaving Johnny’s eyes, as they turned back to look at you. His hand found yours again without hesitation, fingers tangling with yours again as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him.
“How do you possibly get cooler and more interesting with every passing thing you tell me and show me? It’s not fair,”
Johnny filled every second of the walk with story after story. A diner on the corner that he’d rescued a little girl from during another fight in the city, and the way she’d hid behind her father shyly the second he’d dropped her back down on the ground. Another diner just a block away that he’d dragged Reed to after he’d locked himself in his lab for upwards of 48 hours, not having eaten a single thing to the point where Sue was concerned he’d just pass out on the floor in front of his chalkboard. The bakery that sat underneath a row of apartments that Johnny was convinced had the best pie in the world, but Ben still argued there wasn’t a single bakery in the world that could compare to Maisie’s over on Yancy Street.
Before you knew it, you were standing before The Regent. Elegant, sign shimmering and lighting up the darkened sidewalk before it. One single man stood at the door, surveying the area. With one look to Johnny, he nodded his head toward the door to grant him access.
Stepping into that room felt like entering an entirely new world. Light wooden floors that matched the light wood of the walls, which were decorated themselves with photographs upon photographs of couples and celebrities dancing and performing on the stage. The stage itself was beautiful, shining bright at the end of the room as the lights illuminated the band that was currently engrossed in some Elvis song that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. The walls were all draped with velvety red curtains from the ceiling to the floor, accenting the dimly lit room, dance floor, stage and bar in color. Couples, friends, groups all mingled about, dining at the tables elevated at the back of the room, mingling along the walls, and dancing together in front of the stage.
“Of everything you’ve dragged me to these last few months,” you spoke up, voice rising to be heard over the music as the band switched songs, playing a cover of River Deep - Mountain High now. “This is the most 60s feeling thing yet.”
“And that, sweetheart, is why I saved it for a proper date,” Johnny appeared in front of you, your hand still clasped in his, as he tugged you forward. “Come on!”
Your laughter rang through the room as Johnny pulled you into the throws of people, finding an open spot among the crowd on the floor.
He spun you, that smile never dropping from his lips as you twirled in circles. Each twirl left you dizzy as the song played on in the background, the groups of people around you clapping along to the beat from the band. It was inevitable that you’d eventually stumble in the heels you weren’t accustomed to. Johnny’s arm was there, like you somehow knew it would be, curling around your waist. He dipped you, cheekily pretending as if it was all meant to happen, before spinning you back up onto your heels and pulling you into his chest.
“Come on, I can’t have you tripping and falling for me just yet,” he teased, hands holding yours as he spun you out once again just to pull you right back in.
“You try dancing in heels!” you shot back at him, earning a bright laugh from the man still dancing you around in circles. “We never danced like this at Tony’s parties.”
“I thought you said he threw a lot of those,”
“Yeah, but they were more stand around, drink, and talk parties than dancing,” you took a single glance around the room, at every woman being danced around by their friends and their partners. Swishing skirts, some almost touching the floor, loosely hanging from their bodies. “Not that the dresses I was forced to wear would've allowed for dancing. Too tight fitting–the one had a slit almost the entire way up my thigh.”
Johnny’s hand tugged you in at that moment, your chest flush against his. His lips skimmed over the edge of your ear, voice husky as he whispered into it just loudly enough for you to hear.
“I need you to not give me a mental image of your 21st century clothing while we’re in public, honey,”
A laugh bubbled from your throat as you pulled back to see him fully. The ways his eyes had darkened just slightly, the blue of his eyes almost completely overtaken, had your stomach doing a flip. But it wasn’t enough to stop the slightly sadistic smile that overtook your lips.
“Why? It’s so much fun, seeing you all worked up,” you let your fingers touch his jaw gently, nails dragging down the expanse of his neck and to the small bit of skin just barely visible along his collarbone, before you pushed away from him. “Come on, let’s get drinks!”
You could just barely hear his groan of “You’re going to be the death of me,” behind you as he followed you diligently through the crowd, his hand finding the small of your back within seconds so that you were never quite far from him.
Seated on one of the barstools, sipping gingerly at the drink Johnny had procured for you, it was impossible not to watch Johnny.
The way he animatedly retold a story about how they’d been invited to a fundraiser years ago in a dance hall, how he’d talked Ben into getting up onto the stage to dance. The way he so enthusiastically greeted those around the bar that did recognize him, as they slid in little comments about if you were the “mystery woman” that the papers had begun to pick up on over the last two months. He deflected them with ease, remembering many of those that said hello to him, asking such personal things about their families, their jobs, as if they were his best friends.
Your laughter spilled into your drink as the band played their own version of The Twist, and Johnny chose to demonstrate his moves directly in front of you. He smiled wide, eyes never leaving you, as he mouthed the words in your direction, following along with the dance every other person in the club was doing along with him.
“Johnny Storm: a superhero, an avid golfer, a lover of space, and now we can add dancer to that extensive list,” you teased, taking the final sip of your drink before leaving the empty glass on the counter behind you. “Do you frequent these dance halls a lot?”
“When I was a teenager I found my way here pretty often,” he answered easily as the song came to an end, the room cheering out and erupting in applause for the band. With one arm, he leaned against the counter beside you, looking up at you. “I wouldn't call myself a dancer, though. Just had enough practice to be semi-decent.”
“Practice, huh?” you questioned, just as the band started back up again. “How many girls have you taken dancing before?”
The band kicked back up, their next song already ready to go. You recognized it immediately: that same Frank Sinatra song that had played in the car through Long Island barely 24 hours prior. Johnny only smiled softly, standing out in front of you with his hand outstretched toward you.
“None. Promised myself that only one woman would ever have the pleasure of seeing me dance. Now, will you do me the honor?”
It wasn’t a line, not one of his usually charming, flirtatious lines. Not the way in which he said it: so genuinely, so vulnerably. You slipped your hand into his without a second thought.
Johnny guided you back out onto the dance floor, finding another open space among the couples around with ease. His arm slid around your waist, resting there as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You didn’t want to dwell on the fact that it really did feel so right, in a way you had never felt before.
His hand pressed firmly into your lower back, holding your body close to his. You could feel that unnatural heat that radiated off of his skin through the layers of clothing that adorned your body. One of your arms found its place around his shoulder, hand curled around the back of his neck and tangling just slightly with the hairs that laid there. Your other hand was clasped in his, taking in every bit of warmth that seeped from his palm into yours.
I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast. I fall in love too terribly hard for love to ever last.
“Can I ask you something?” you asked him quietly, nose just barely brushing along the edge of his jawline as you danced together, swayed back and forth across the floor with him.
“Anything,”
“You didn’t have to trust me that day in the park. You could’ve assumed I was a threat, taken me out. Instead, you took me in,” you closed your eyes, leaning in just slightly as your nose brushed over his jawline once again. “Then, you took it upon yourself to make me feel comfortable, to not let me feel alone in a universe that isn’t mine…why?”
“I mean, from the moment I saw you I thought you were pretty, but it was because I felt like I was looking at me,” Johnny’s answer was simple. No charm, no jokes, just the truth. “I saw myself for a moment, the me I was when we came home from space with powers. Confused, angry, terrified of what I had become. I didn’t know what to do. You looked so lost, so alone, and you continued to look that way every day. I didn’t…I didn’t want you to feel alone. I didn’t want you to feel like I did when I came home that day, when I felt like I had to lock myself away. It didn’t help that…I kind of fell for you along the way.”
Any hesitation in your heart, any thought in your brain still telling you that this was a terrible idea, that it could never work, melted away in that single second.
My heart should be well schooled ‘cause I've been fooled in the past. And still I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast.
“Can I ask you something?” he tacked on as your brain and heart still searched for a way to respond to him. All you could give him was a nod, one he could feel from where your skin touched his. “I’ve been flirting with you every day since we met. What made you finally say yes to a date?”
“Because I wasn’t saying yes to Jonathan Storm, the Human Torch, one of the four protectors of this Earth,” you told him simply, leaning back just slightly so that you could catch his gaze as you spoke, bodies still swaying back and forth to the swell of the violin. “I was saying yes to Johnny. The flame boy who decided to trust me. The guy that does the dumbest shit just to make his nephew laugh. The only one who’s made the pain of what I’ve lost lessen these last few months. I didn’t fall for all the bravado, or the charming lines, I just fell for him.”
Your confession was laid bare, as was his. He didn’t say a single word. Johnny simply smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to the crown of your head, before letting his eyes close and his forehead rest against yours. You followed suit, mirroring him, simply existing in the space within his arms.
My heart should be well schooled ‘cause I've been fooled in the past. And still I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast.
What felt like hours later, while also feeling like no time had passed at all, you found your hand clasped in Johnny’s once more. Roaming the streets of New York in the cool air of the night, a giddiness present in each of you that could only be compared to the feeling of pure childlike wonder and joy.
All you could think about was how right it felt, being with him. Having his hand in yours. Being in his arms. Universes separated you, but in this moment, you felt as if you had never belonged somewhere more than you did right now.
“Okay, okay,” Johnny forced out through his laughter, leaning into you as you turned another street corner, trying to find the next question to ask in the long line of questions you had been throwing back and forth. “Favorite fight that you had with the Avengers?”
“Oh god, I don’t know if I can answer that,” you responded easily with a laugh, shaking your head at the thought. “None of them were really fun, they all kind of left immense damage in their wake. One ended with me locked in a high security prison in the middle of the ocean for a short period of time, so, I guess that was fun.”
“That…that sounds like the opposite of fun,”
“Oh, it was. It sucked immensely,” he shoved his shoulder into yours for the comment. “Okay, my turn. Favorite memory with Reed?”
“When he asked me permission to marry Sue. I thought he was going to piss himself, I’ve never seen the man look so nervous,” Johnny laughed, tugging on your hand to bring you in closer to his side again. “Okay, how about your favorite thing you can do with your magic?”
Now that was a show instead of a tell question. Dropping his hand, you slid into the space in front of Johnny on the side walk, shuffling backwards against the pavement. He cocked an eyebrow as you shot him a tiny grin, before your hands at your sides began to glow in that familiar blue as your body lifted off of the grow by just a few feet, uncaring for anyone that could possibly see you in the area.
Johnny stopped in his tracks, dumbfounded as his wide eyes looked up at you. He sputtered for a moment, trying to find his words.
“Wait–you could fly this entire time, and you didn’t tell me?”
“You never asked!”
Johnny’s body ignited in flames, a sight you’d sparingly seen over your time in their world. From the chest down, every bit of him burned in those bright orange and red licks of fire as he, too, flew above the ground before you, back to being level with you once more.
“We could’ve been flying everywhere instead of driving!”
“Well, let’s just have some fun with it now,” you shot back with a wink, before propelling yourself upward. “Keep up, flame boy!”
The chill in the New York breeze was a familiar feeling, beating against your face as you propelled yourself up into the air, flying along the edge of the buildings. Johnny followed along right beside you, the heat of his flames fanning out over you and cancelling out the chill that night air brought with it.
His eyes never left yours as you spun around a corner of the building, propelling yourself further up into the air. You looked down, watching him with a smile as you hung there high above the buildings and the city of New York. Johnny joined you in seconds, hovering just in front of you. The clouds practically kissed your body, the city so far down below you both, leaving you alone together among the clouds.
You could see it, the glint in his eyes, the way they flickered down to your lips for just a second before glancing back up, pretending as if they’d never strayed away. He leaned in, and you let him for just a moment, before letting your body fall backward and freefall through the air back toward the city.
His laughter echoed through the sky as he flew down after you, following the sound of your own laughter. He saddled up to your side, flying down alongside you once again before you took a sudden turn, propelling yourself toward the rooftop of a building just barely in the distance.
Your feet touched down on the private rooftop moments later, magic dissipating from your fingertips as you landed, taking in a deep breath as the rush of flying left your body in one fell swoop. The rooftop garden you’d landed in was clearly one for a private residence, somewhere you probably shouldn’t have been, but you didn’t care. Not with the smell of the flowers invading your senses, the glint of the dim fairy lights strung around the roof bathing you in their light, and the view of the Baxter Building dead ahead.
Johnny’s feet touched the ground just moments after you, the sound of his shoes hitting the flooring alerting you. Spinning, he was standing just a few feet away, watching you with a little smile as he shook his head with laughter.
“You might be insane,”
“Sorry,” your giggles fell into the mix with his own laughter. “It’s been a minute since I’ve flown. I’ve missed it.”
“Can’t say I’ve ever flown with someone on a first date,” Johnny countered, taking just a few steps forward toward you. “Unless you count Shalla-Bal throwing me off her surfboard in space, but that wasn’t really a date.”
“Guess this was a first for both of us, then,”
You matched his steps, barely a few feet between the two of you now. Johnny didn’t make another step forward, though, didn’t close the space separating you.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, his foot tapped against the ground, and his hands clearly didn’t know what to do with themselves.
“What’s wrong?” you asked gently, even though you could practically see the nerves rolling off of him. He laughed, shaking his head as he glanced to the ground for just a moment, before back to you.
“I…I’m kind of nervous, if you can believe it,”
You hummed, taking the initiative to step up into his space, barely a few inches separating the two of you now. Your eyes never left him.
“Why? I thought the charming Johnny Storm had been on a bunch of first dates?” you teased.
He laughed breathily, eyes darting to your lips for just a second.
“Not ones that mattered…not like you do,”
You barely let him finish his sentence before you curled your hands around the back of his neck, tugging him down to you and slotting your lips against his.
It was short, but poured every bit of passion into it that swarmed through your heart and your head. Your lips moved against his just slightly, still testing the waters as the heat that coursed through his skin and into yours felt as if it was sinking straight down into your bones. Johnny’s lips were soft, supple, a shaky breath leaving his lips and fanning out over yours the second that they touched for the first time. Something in your head clicked at the feeling, something that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, making you light-headed as your fingers just barely curled into the hair kissing the nape of his neck.
It was you that pulled away first. Barely a few inches away, the heat of his body still filling the air between you. His blue eyes bore down into your, wide and full of awe, lips slightly parted. A smile stretched across his face first, a matching once crawling across your own as you let your hands fully dive into his hair.
Johnny moved first, hands enveloping your waist and tugging you until your body was almost one with his, his mouth devouring yours in a kiss that had your knees almost crumbling to the ground.
Those heated hands swarmed your body desperate to touch every single expanse of you that they could in the way you were sure he’d thought about, in the way you never wanted to admit you sometimes dreamed about. Goosebumps crawled across your skin with every move of his hands, with every flex of his fingers and they pressed into you. His lips moved against yours like a starved man, slick with spit as your mouth opened to him, letting him invade every bit of you that you could, his tongue slipping just barely in and grazing over your bottom lip. A moan fell–from you or Johnny, neither of you knew–but the sound only spurred you both on.
His hands tightened their grip around your waist, holding him to you like a possession, one he couldn’t bear to lose. Claiming you. Your hand wound into his hair, tugging to elicit a groan from him, as you let your other trail down to rest over the patch of skin just barely visible under the single unbuttoned part of his shirt.
When your lips finally broke, soft pants filling the air between you, neither of you dared to look away. You couldn’t. It was like being in a trance, being pulled to the man in front of you almost magnetically. He leaned in, pressing a series of soft pecks against your lips, hands still flexing across your hips with each little peck that sent the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy.
“This is crazy, right?” he muttered out between kisses. You hummed in response, matching each kiss of his with your own through your grin, hands still carding through his hair.
“What, falling for each other when we come from completely different universes?”
“Exactly that,” he responded, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, before his forehead rested against yours. Those blue eyes bore down into yours, a soft smile over taking his kiss bitten lips again. “I don’t care much, though. Not when it just…feels so right.”
Your smile matched his in seconds as you leaned forward, stealing yet another kiss that flooded your body with warmth.
“Me too,”
Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t so crazy: falling for someone universes away from you. Even universes away, maybe Johnny Storm was always meant to be yours, always meant to be the missing piece to your incomplete puzzle.
❤︎
Johnny Storm had been called many things over the years by the media. A playboy, a womanizer, noncommittal. They were all wrong.
He preferred the term hopeless romantic, especially when it came to you.
Especially in this exact moment, leaning against the doorway of his bedroom in the early hours of the afternoon to see you sprawled out, tangled in the covers that were halfway off his bed. You looked as if you belonged there, and in Johnny’s eyes, you did. There was nowhere else that you belonged than right by his side.
Crossing the room quietly, trying not to disturb you, he gently placed the glass of water he’d ventured into the kitchen for down on the bedside table. He got distracted, as he typically did, at the sight of the polaroids splayed out across the wooden table. Taking them gingerly in his hands, terrified to ruin them, the smile that crossed his face couldn’t be wiped away.
You wrapped in his arms along the Coney Island beach in the early hours of the morning. One of just you, sprawled out in his bed in nothing but one of his button downs that fell down to your thighs. You on the couch, Franklin curled into your lap as you read him a book. His favorite one, sneakily taken by Sue late one night, wrapped in his arms on the balcony of the Baxter Building, lips pressed together through smiles.
He loved you. Johnny loved you more than he ever believed he could love someone in life. Multiverse be damned, you were it for him. You were meant to be his and his alone, and he was hell bent on loving you to the fullest extent every single day that he could, knowing someone could come along and rip you away at any moment.
But the universe had given him a year. An entire year to love you in every way that he could, to prove to you that you were it for him. He thanked whatever being out there in the multiverse he needed to every single day for the time he’d been given with you.
Johnny crawled onto the bed, tugging the comforter down from around your shoulders so he could fully see you. His pillow was clutched between your arms, the space in which he usually occupied. His white t-shirt, bearing the 4 logo that you’d made fun of him for months ago, covered your body, falling to the middle of your bare thighs.
He leaned in with a smile, pressing kiss after kiss to the bare skin of your arms he could see, trailing down to leave heat filled kisses to the bare skin of your thighs. He’d barely left three there before he could hear your giggle, body flipping over onto your back so that you could look down on him with a raised eyebrow and a grin.
“You left me,” you teased with a fake little pout. “I had nothing to hold but a pillow.”
“I’m so sorry, princess,” Johnny mumbled through his smirk, pressing yet another kiss into your thighs. His hands traveled up the sides of your legs, pushing his t-shirt with them as his kisses trailed further up the expanse of your skin. “How could I ever make it up to you?”
“I-I don’t know…round three doesn’t sound that bad,”
Johnny hummed through his laughter, mumbling a quiet “I love you” into your skin. He knew you could hear it, though, he knew that you knew it.
He reveled in every little noise that left your lips, every puff of air that was on the cusp of being a moan as he lavished every inch of your skin in a kiss.
“Look, you’re both adults so I try not to tell you what to do, but it’s the middle of the afternoon and–JESUS CHRIST, JOHNNY!”
He’d never sprang away so fast, throwing himself so hard to the side of the bed that he fell straight off of it to the floor with a thud. Your laughter filled the room as he crawled back up the side of the bed, your hand covering your mouth to conceal your laughter and the comforter pulled back up your legs.
Johnny immediately shot a glare at his sister, standing in the doorway of his room with her eyes covered by her hand.
“Sue, you have no one to blame but yourself for this–”
“You could have closed the door! I don’t need to see you doing all of that, my god,” Sue shook her head, peaking between her fingers to finally see that there was nothing happening, before dropping her hand. “Reed wants you in the lab for a few more tests, okay, he promised those would be the last ones this week. Just…look decent and meet us down there, okay?”
She grumbled the entire way out of the room, muttering comments about scarring her for life.
Johnny only rolled his eyes, throwing himself back onto the bed to hover above you. Nothing could ruin his mood, not when you looked up at him like that, smile bright and eyes full of adoration.
“That’s the third time this month she’s done that,” you managed to speak through giggles, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. “She’s going to kill us one of these days.”
Johnny only hummed, ignoring the comment. Instead, his fingers trailed down your neck, grasping the chain of the necklace that rested against your chest, a little charm of a Plumeria dangling off the end. His Christmas gift to you, one of the many you received as you were showered in them by his entire family. He pressed a kiss to the flower, looking up to you, only to see that same soft look in your eyes.
“I love you,” he whispered out, leaning in to capture your lips in his before you could speak back. He could feel you sigh into the feeling, your fingers dancing over his cheek lightly as you kissed him back just as softly.
“I love you, too,” you whispered back against his lips, before your hand rested on his chest with a little push. “But we’re going to go down to that lab because if we stay here another second, Sue is going to be walking in on a sight that she really doesn’t want to see.”
Johnny groaned, but relented. Falling back to his knees, his hands wound under the covers to your hips, pulling you up to your knees quickly on the bed. His mouth found yours in an instant, cementing another kiss there just for good measure.
“Round three after, right?”
It was your magic this time that pushed him, sending him tumbling back off the bed as your laughter rang out through the room.
“If you can behave, then maybe,”
Still clad in his t-shirt, having thrown on the old pair of ripped jeans you’d arrived in this universe in over a year ago, Johnny tucked you under his arm the second you stepped out of his bedroom, unable to go a second without touching you in any way shape or form. You never complained, even leaned into him as he pressed a kiss to your hairline.
“Lynne was able to get us reservations at that one restaurant you’ve been wanting to try for tonight, by the way,” he told you as you stepped into the elevator, hitting the button for Reed’s lab instantly. He grinned at the way your smile brightened, eyes turning to look up at him.
“Oh my god, that new one in Times Square?”
“That’s the one,” Johnny shot back. He let his arm fall from your shoulders, letting it wrap around your waist. His hand found the edge of his shirt, dipping beneath it so that his hand could press against the skin of your bare back. “Thinking maybe afterward we could go for a little fly around the city, sit down on the Brooklyn Bridge for a little while.”
Your hands cupped his cheeks almost instantly after he spoke, pulling him into a kiss. A feeling Johnny was sure he would never grow tired of, never get enough of.
“It’s a date,”
Stepping out into Reed’s lab, the entire team was gathered around. Reed was fussing over a machine, just as he normally was, with Sue trying desperately to calm him down. Ben was entertaining Franklin over on the couch, reading to him one of his favorite books.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” Reed called out, ignoring the doting of Johnny’s sister as he waved you over frantically. “I just want to run a few more tests for this week. I changed some of the parameters, I just want to make sure that we have all of our bases covered.”
You gave Johnny’s hand a quick squeeze before crossing the room, sliding into the same chair you always sat in for Reed’s tests, presenting your arm for the usual blood draw. Reed was convinced that it was necessary to test your blood, to do weekly scans of your body, to ensure that there were no lasting effects on your from staying in the wrong universe for an extended period of time like you had.
Johnny joined Ben and Franklin over on the couch, leaning down to leave a little kiss on his little nephew’s forehead, one that left the boy smiling and giggling.
“Johnny,” Franklin was barely able to say his name, stumbling over most of the letters, but he heard him loud and clear. He ruffled the boy's hair with a laugh, kneeling down in front of the couch.
“Hey buddy,” Johnny glanced over at Ben, at the smirk on the man’s rocky mouth, and raised an eyebrow in question. “What?”
“Nothing, nothing. Love just looks good on you, kid,” Ben teased.
Johnny shot a look over his shoulder, straight toward you. Smiling in that chair, laughing at something Sue said, as Reed drew the blood from your arm with a practiced ease for his various tests.
“Nah, it’s just loving her,” Johnny glanced back at Ben, a hint of a sheepish grin on his lips as he shrugged. “I don’t know how to describe it, man. She’s just…I think she’s just it.”
Ben smiled, that knowing one that he always had, as his rocky hand came down to pat Johnny’s back.
“I think so too. You deserve this, matchstick. You were practically made for each other,”
Johnny agreed. He was trying to decide mentally if one year was too soon to officially make your last name Storm like he had promised months ago.
The quiet, the lightheartedness that filled the lab, couldn’t stay forever. Not when the alarms across the room began to blare.
Every head shot up at once, turning to look down the length of the lab to the computers where the alarm was blaring. Reed shot to his feet, taking a step in front of Sue as you ripped the needle from your arm in seconds to join them.
“Johnny-”
“On it!”
He’d practically sprinted halfway down the lab at that point, pulling up the alarm system at the designated workstation. That same map that had foreshadowed your arrival blinked on the screen, the same blip that showed your arrival in Gramercy Park blinking on the screen–right on the Baxter Building.
“It’s the same readings as when she got here,” Johnny called out down the lab, eyes frantically darting back and forth between you and Reed. “The blip, though, it’s right here on the building-”
There was sound from right beside him, startling him. Johnny whipped around, little sparks of yellow and gold flashing in the air beside him.
He instantly took steps back, shuffling backward and away from the growing sparks until his legs hit the back of the couch. Ben stood somewhere behind him, holding Franklin protectively in his arms. Reed held onto Sue across the room from where Johnny stood, keeping her at his side, as you stepped up in front of them: eyes glowing, magic dancing at your finger tips.
Until those sparks of energy grew, larger and larger, until they formed the makings of a small circle. Johnny could hear the second your breath caught, that glow in your eyes fading and the magic at your fingertips vanishing in seconds as you took another step forward.
“O-Oh my god…”
The sparking circle grew, almost the size of an entire person, before it stabilized, and out of what Johnny could only assume was a portal stepped a man. Older, tired, short hair and the remnants of cuts along his face. Body draped in elegant robes of purple and yellow he’d never seen before. His eyes darted around the room, before they landed on you, and he let out the loudest sigh Johnny had ever heard.
“Oh, thank god-”
“WONG!”
You’d practically flown across the room and into the man’s arms. Wong hadn’t wasted a second, hugging you back just as tightly as you cried, holding onto the man for dear life.
Johnny froze: Wong. He’d heard that name before. You talked about him all the time. The Sorcerer Supreme, the man you were supposed to wait for before you performed the spell that had landed you here in the first place. Johnny felt his heart break at the realization. He could feel the eyes of his sister on him from across the room.
His time had finally run out. Home had finally come to take you back from him.
“When I tell you that you aren’t to touch the Book of Vishanti without me, it is not a suggestion,” Wong scolded, hands clasping your shoulders as you violently wiped your tears across the room. “I already had to deal with Stephen breaking into the restricted section years ago, I do not want a repeat of that again. Do you know how difficult it is to find your energy signature through the vast multiverse?”
“I know, I know,” you nodded your head, before shaking it back and forth. “No performing any spells from an ancient book without your supervision. I got it.”
Wong nodded once, before his eyes finally glanced over the rest of the room. They settled on Reed and Sue, Ben and Franklin, and finally on Johnny.
“Do I need to worry about-”
“No, no, they’re friends. They’re practically family,” you assured the man, turning and gesturing out to the room. “This is the Fantastic Four. They’re essentially the Avengers of their universe…”
Your words trailed off as you finally met Johnny’s eyes again. He could see it, the moment that the realization seemed to settle in over you like it already had for him, and he thought his heart was going to break all over again.
From the corner of his eyes, he could see the glance that Wong sent between both you and him. A knowing one, one that spoke volumes without having to speak at all. He sighed, the sound ringing through the otherwise quiet lab, as he squeezed your shoulder.
“Five minutes,” Wong told you gently, his gaze drifting back to Johnny for just a minute. “There’s no telling if your time here has done any damage to the time streams. We need to get you home…I can give you five minutes.”
You only nodded, tearing your eyes away from Johnny. There was no arguing.
He knew this day would come, even if selfishly he wished it never would.
His eyes never left you as you crossed the room, practically flying into Sue’s arms. Johnny felt as if his head was under water. He could see your lips moved, Sue’s lips moving, but he couldn’t hear a word either of you said.
In his head, Johnny could guess what you were saying. A thank you for taking you in, for taking care of you, for all the times Sue had helped you dress for a date or taken you out into the city with her. He was sure Sue was thanking you for simply loving her little brother.
Reed pulled you into a tentative hug, short but still sweet. You didn’t exchange many words, but he could make out a “thank you” on his brother-in-law's lips.A thank you that simply encompassed everything, everything that he was sure Reed struggled to say.
Johnny saw your tears again when you stepped into Ben’s arms finally. A conversation that he was sure detailed the many early morning trips you’d made to Maisie’s together, or the late night talks that happened on the couch over drinks as some movie played on TV.
Franklin’s cries pierced the air, his hands making grabby motions toward you as he cried. You placed a single kiss to his head, walking away before you broke down.
Finally, you stood before him. Mascara running just slightly, tear stains littering your cheeks and down to your chin. You mustered the smallest of smiles that you could for him, albeit watery. Johnny tried to do the same, feeling the lump in his throat beginning to form.
“I thought I had three rules for you before you went home,” he managed to say, trying to swallow back the burning need to cry. You laughed, though the sound almost sounded like a sob, as you nodded your head.
“I’m leaving having accomplished two of those things. I guess that counts as a win,”
Johnny nodded, the beginnings of a sob almost bubbling out of his throat. Like two magnets pulled together, you fell into his arms. Head buried into his neck, Johnny’s one hand curled into your hair, tears slipping down his cheeks and soaking into the skin of the side of your head as your own tears soaked into his neck, your cries muffled by his skin.
“I love you,” he muttered into the side of your head, pressing kiss after kiss to your skin. “I don’t care. I love you. I love you more than anything.”
You pulled away, those red rimmed and watery eyes finding him, as you cupped his cheeks in your shaking hands.
“I love you too,” you whispered, stealing a kiss from his lips that took every bit of breath out of him. Your next words were whispered against his mouth. “This isn’t goodbye. I promise.”
Johnny managed a laugh, stealing another kiss as he gripped you as tightly as possible, hoping if he held on tight enough you wouldn’t slip away.
“What, you’re going to find a way to defy the multiverse to see me again? Abandon your home?”
“For you? Yeah,” you answer was short, meaningful, determined, definitive. Johnny believed every word. “I’ll see you again. And next time, I won’t have to leave. Because you’re my home, too.”
Johnny managed a smile, hoping it was as comforting as he wanted it to be, as he stole one last kiss. Not a goodbye, he wasn’t sure he could handle a goodbye. He wasn’t sure he could handle the idea of never seeing you again. This kiss was a promise. To what? He wasn’t sure. Maybe just a simple promise that he was yours.
“I’ll be counting the days,”
He couldn’t bear to look down at you again, afraid if he kissed you again he’d shove Wong back through that portal and find a way to hold you here forever. Johnny settled for a single kiss to your forehead, accented with the tears that were still running silently down his cheeks, before he let you go.
You slotted yourself back to Wong’s side, wiping at the tears that stained your cheeks. He placed a hand on your shoulder, and even Johnny could see how much it pained him to do this to you. He caught the slight flick of your hand, though, the slight burst of your magic, so small he wasn’t sure at first if he’d seen it correctly.
The room was silent as you and Wong stepped back through the glittering gold portal and onto the floor of the other side. Your eyes met his one last time, a watery smile crossing your lips, before it closed.
And in the blink of an eye, you were gone. Gone as if you’d never been there in the first place.
Franklin’s cries were still the only thing he could hear in the room, No one dared to speak, dared to break through the air, as Johnny’s eyes stayed locked on the last spot you had stood in.
“Johnny…”
He turned, tear filled eyes meeting with his family. The heartbroken look on Ben’s face, the conflicted look on Reed’s, and the absolute pity that shone through on Sue’s. She took a single step forward, but Johnny waved her off immediately, shaking his head as he wiped at his tears, forcing a smile.
“I-I’m fine. I just…I just need a minute,”
No one rushed after him, and he was thankful for it.
The entire elevator ride back up to his room was done in a daze, in a haze of emotions. His vision was blurry the entire time, but no more tears fell. He wasn’t sure he had more to cry.
Stepping into his room again, he felt like he could muster a few more tears. The bed was still unmade. The scent of your perfume, one you’d picked a few months ago with Sue, lingered in the air. Your clothes from the night before were strewn over a chair by his record player.
It was the only sign that you had, in fact, existed here in his universe. You weren’t a figment of his imagination.
Approaching his bed, wanting to bury himself in the lingering scent of you, his breath caught.
Lying there, on the unmade sheets, was a single flower. A single little Plumeria, remnants of blue magic dancing over and around its petals. Right below it? That same Polaroid Johnny loved so dearly.
He clutched it in his hands, willing himself to be back in the moment: holding you on the balcony that night, kissing you, telling you he loved you. As he did, your magic seeped across the bottom white edge of the photo, scrawling your handwriting across the bottom.
Unequivocally yours.
That, alone, was enough to bring a smile back to his lips.
Multiverse be damned: you were his. There was no one in this life or the next that Johnny Storm was convinced he could love more, just as there was no one that could love you the way he could.
In that moment, he knew for a fact he’d see you again. And next time, he was never letting you go.
Something that really stuck with me while I was playing Mass Effect 2, and that I feel was so important to understanding the relationship between Shepard and Garrus, whether you romance him or not, is that Garrus is your only companion from ME1 who never moved on.
You died. The crew watched you die. Assumedly they grieved you, there was a funeral service, there were tears and all five stages of grief. Things were rough, but eventually life took on a shade of normalcy again.
Kaiden/Ashley got reassigned and continued their work for the alliance. Liara fights tooth and nail to get your body to Cerberus, but then it’s out of her hands and she becomes an information broker. Tali goes back to the Floatilla, like she was always supposed to. Wrex becomes a clan leader. And yes, they’re all fundamentally changed by their time on the Normandy, but no one seems as stuck as Garrus Vakarian.
Because he doesn’t go back to the Citadel. He doesn’t join the Turian Hierarchy. He ships himself off to Omega, one of the most dangerous places he could be, and makes a life out of pissing off the most dangerous people there. It’s kind of a suicide mission, especially after what happened with Sidonis. He kind of figures he’s going to die doing this, but what else can he do?
There is no normalcy for Garrus in a world without Shepard, and I think that’s why he’s always immediately ready to come back to the Normandy. The Normandy, and Shepard, are home for Garrus and that’s why I think romancing him feels like the natural conclusion for so many femme Sheps, because Shepard feels that way too.
Of all the companions, no one needs Shepard to live more than Garrus, and no one needs Garrus more than Shepard. They’re perfectly matched, as lovers, as friends, as soldiers, as whatever they are in your universe and when you’re that perfectly matched with someone, you never quite feel whole without them.
Molly didn’t know where he was, barely knew who he was. When he finally opened his eyes - eyes? eyes never shut - and was faced with a pink firbolg, Molly was more confused than ever. So he ran.
Empty empty empty. He’s lost in himself and in this terrifying cavern - of flesh? - and he doesn’t know anything. There’s words in his mouth and people around him and he doesn’t know who anyone is. They’re hugging him and saying things and he’s just lost.
Except you, back behind everyone and quiet, you catch his eye and he knows you, he’s sure he does. But his heart is beating out of his chest and he can’t catch his breath so he gives in, lays on the ground, lets himself fade out.
*
Molly had never seen the Blooming Grove before, but he quite liked it and the Clay family. Eccentricity appealed to him - he was eccentric, wasn’t he? - but the family was just kind. They almost reminded him of another group, people he couldn’t quite picture or name, but the lingering feeling of family made him wonder.
For a week or so, you watched as Molly wandered the Grove, slowly recovering memories. He was never far from Yasha. Jester had fixed up his coat for him and he looked nearly like he had before you’d lost him. Some missing eye tattoos and slightly underfed but that would change with time.
*
“Is there a reason you’re avoiding a particular tiefling?” Fjord asked you, joining you where you were weeding a section of the cemetery.
“I spoke to Jester like an hour ago.” You reply without looking up.
“Alright, smartass.” Fjord scoffs and rolls his eyes.
“I’m not avoiding Molly; I’m giving him space.” You say.
“Does he know that?” Fjord asks. You look up at him sharply, frowning.
“He doesn’t remember…us. Whatever we were. I don’t wanna add any extra pressure on him.”
“And when he does remember, what then?” Fjord asks.
“I’ll tell him what I just told you.” You stand, yanking off your gloves. “What’s this about Fjord?”
“Everyone’s worried about you.” Fjord admits, rubbing his neck. “All of this is…a lot. Molly’s back but you’ve hardly reacted, barely talked to him. I just wanted to check in.” You try not to bristle at Fjord, he’s just doing what he does, checking in on his friends. But hardly reacted?
You’ve cried yourself to sleep almost every night since you returned to the Grove.
What was worse? Losing Molly or having a Molly who didn’t remember you? Losing Molly or having him so close but out of reach? Your chest aches and you fought hard not to cry in front of Fjord.
“I’m fine.” You tell him.
“Bullshit.” You and Fjord both jump as Beau speaks up. Sometime during your conversation she’d wandered over and now she was facing you with crossed arms and a raised brow. “You look like shit.”
“Beau.” Fjord hissed. She just rolled her eyes, waving her hand at him.
“You gotta talk to him or something, just watching you is making me miserable.” She said, poking you lightly in the chest.
“I don’t want to pressure-“ Beau cuts you off.
“Yasha said he asks about you, can’t figure out why you’re avoiding him. Molly’s not remembering everything yet but - just go talk to him.”
*
Molly’s been watching you, keeping track of where you were throughout the day. He wasn’t sure why. He’d wanted to speak to you before now but you seemed to disappear anytime he got too close.
Until today. He was sitting against a tree outside the Clay home, reading through Beau’s journal. Well, more specifically, he was struggling to read the journal and was considering asking Beau to just read it aloud. Molly looked up at the sound of feet crunching grass.
“Hey.” You greeted him with a small smile.
“Hello.” Molly replied blankly, confused - and intrigued - by the way his pulse quickened in your presence.
“Can I join you?” Molly nods so you settle beside him on the ground. You can’t bring yourself to say anything else though. What do you say?
“Did I…do something to you?” Molly asks and you jolt back to the present, out of your head. “To make you avoid me?”
“Oh no, no, I wasn’t-“ You sigh. “I wasn’t trying to avoid you but I was. I wanted you to have space.”
Molly cocked his head, observing you through narrowed red eyes. He looked back to the journal then his gaze wandered to your lap, where you were wringing your hands together.
“Space from you?” You nodded and he hummed in thought. “Because…we were together?”
“…yes.” You answer. Molly blinked.
“Wait, really?” He asked, grin curling across his lips.
“Yes?” You reply, slightly confused.
“I didn’t think I’d be right.” Molly laughed, reaching and grabbing one of your hands. “I’d hoped, of course, and obviously something had happened between us but- it really was like this, the two of us?”
Molly was looking at you so openly and adoringly that you almost couldn’t think straight, couldn’t really fight the heat rising to your cheeks.
“Yeah, for a while before…” You trailed off but started again. “I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to be with me, remember me right away.”
“Trust me, I’m very unhappy to have forgotten anything about you.” A sweet sentiment but you’re pretty sure Molly’s enunciation was meant to be teasing too. “Thank you for treating me so kindly though I would have preferred you spoke to me earlier.”
“Sorry.” You say softly, glancing up from your hand in his to look at him. He leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours.
“We’ll just have to make up for lost time.” Molly said. He took a deep breath, just enjoying your presence when something tickled at the back of his mind.
“You used to call me your Tea-lightful Tealeaf when you were in a silly mood.” Molly says it as a statement but pulls away enough to see your face, to see if he’s right.
“Okay, you could’ve waited to remember that.” You groan, covering your face with your free hand. “I only did it because it made you laugh.”
“Don’t you hide from me.” Molly pulled your hand off your face, held both of your hands in his. “We have all the time in the world now to be silly and laugh together.”
“I’ve missed you. A lot.” You manage to say without crying. Molly gives you a small smile.
“I feel like I’m missing me still.” Molly admits. “But I have you and our very odd friends, so my memories can take their time. They’ll return, in time.”
“And in the meantime,” Molly says, leaning his forehead back against yours, “I will delight in learning about you all over again.”