₊˚. ༘ ❝ Petit Calepin ˚✧

The conference room sat nearly forty floors above Manhattan, its floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a city blissfully unaware that somewhere beyond its skyline, another extinction-level threat was steadily making its way toward Earth. 

Government officials crowded one side of the polished table, military personnel the other, while holographic projections cycled through satellite imagery, casualty estimates, and reports so heavily redacted that more black ink covered the pages than actual text.

"We're out of options."

The words came from a gray-haired general standing near the head of the table, his fingers pressing so firmly against the folder before him that the edges had begun to curl beneath his grip.

He looked exhausted, though whether from the lack of sleep or the realization of what he was about to authorize, it was difficult to tell.

Reed Richards stood opposite him, one hand resting against the tabletop as another projection rotated lazily above the center of the room, displaying a fracture in space that seemed to grow wider with every passing hour.

"If the projections are correct," Reed explained evenly, "the incursion reaches Earth's atmosphere in approximately seventy-two hours. Even assuming optimal conditions, the Fantastic Four cannot contain it indefinitely."

"So you need reinforcements."

"We need someone capable of closing dimensional fractures from the inside."

Another official cleared his throat. "...There's only one."

Nobody seemed particularly eager to say your name.

A younger agent finally slid a weathered manila folder across the table toward Reed, the classified stamp nearly worn away after years of being handled by too many nervous hands.

"Eclipse."

Even saying your codename seemed to lower the temperature in the room.

"Conditional Release Asset Zero-One."

"...She already refused four deployments."

"Five," another corrected quietly.

"And she's ignored every attempt at communication."

"We've tried encrypted satellites."

"No response."

"Secure phones."

"No response."

"Letters."

"No response."

Reed looked up from the file. "You've sent letters?"

The agent nodded. "She mailed one back."

"...What did it say?"

He cleared his throat. "'Respectfully, no.'"

For reasons no one could adequately explain, Ben Grimm let out a snort from the opposite side of the room before coughing into his fist when several heads turned in his direction.

"What?" he muttered. "It's kinda funny."

"It is not funny," the general replied.

"It was a little funny."

Sue elbowed Ben beneath the table as Reed continued reading. The pages painted a horrifying picture.

Cities leveled. Entire military divisions erased. Threat assessments labeled OMEGA. Power output listed as unknown. Psychological evaluations. Containment procedures. Emergency protocols.

And yet, buried between pages of classified incident reports and casualty estimates, a single line appeared over and over again.

Complied voluntarily. Surrendered willingly. Civilian casualties minimized by subject.

Reed frowned. "These reports contradict each other."

"They're supposed to."

He looked up, and the general met his gaze without flinching. "The public record calls her a weapon."

"The classified record?"

"...Calls her the reason several countries still exist."

Johnny leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "So we're really doing this?" he asked. "We're bringing in the woman everyone keeps locked in a magical witness protection program?"

"No," the general answered flatly. "We're asking."

"And if she says no?"

Every eye in the room shifted toward the woman who had remained silent since entering. Wanda Maximoff.

She stood near the windows with her arms folded, watching the conversation unfold with the patience of someone who had already seen how this meeting would end.

"If she says no," Wanda replied calmly, "then you can threaten to send her back."

A few confused glances spread around the room as Johnny frowned. "...Back where?"

"The Raft."

His eyebrows shot upward. "Wait."

He looked around the room. "She's not just... living somewhere?"

"No."

"She's on conditional release."

"Yes."

"And you people let her... what? Go buy groceries?"

"Yes."

Johnny stared. "...Who's idea was that?"

"The alternative was keeping someone capable of tearing open reality imprisoned indefinitely," Wanda answered. "Believe it or not, treating her like a human being has produced better results." 

Then Wanda stepped away from the windows.

"So," she said, extending one hand toward the empty stretch of polished marble floor at the center of the room, crimson magic already curling between her fingertips, "shall we ask?"

No one objected.

Within moments, the overhead lights dimmed as scarlet energy spread across the marble in intricate, glowing patterns, ancient runes carving themselves into existence one by one while the air inside the conference room grew heavy enough that even breathing required effort. 

Every screen flickered, every electronic device lost signal, and somewhere deep within the building, the emergency generators kicked on despite the power never actually failing.

Johnny shifted uneasily in his chair. "...Please tell me this is normal."

Without looking away from the forming circle, Wanda answered simply, "No."

And then she began the incantation. Scarlet energy spilled from Wanda's palms, weaving across the marble floor until the intricate pattern of runes stretched nearly twenty feet in diameter. 

The monitors lining the walls flickered violently before going black altogether, phones lost service one by one, and somewhere beyond the conference room doors, alarms began sounding throughout the building as electronics inexplicably shut themselves down floor by floor.

Johnny shifted in his seat. "...Is that supposed to happen?"

"Pretty much,” Wanda answered evenly, never taking her eyes off the growing circle. The light intensified before everything came to an abrupt halt. 

A dark circle began to ripple, like the night sky had been poured onto the floor. Tiny pinpricks of light shimmered beneath its surface, galaxies drifting lazily through an endless sea of black until the void slowly rose from the ground, twisting into the unmistakable outline of a person.

Combat boots emerged from the darkness first, their heavy soles striking the marble with a muted thud before the rest of your figure slowly materialized from the living void. 

Long legs disappeared beneath a floor-length cloak of deep indigo, the fabric pooling around your boots before drifting lazily despite the complete absence of wind.

A broad hood concealed most of your face, casting your features in shadow while the cloak itself fastened neatly at your collarbones with a polished silver clasp engraved with an unfamiliar crest.

As the last traces of void energy unraveled from your form, glimpses of the suit beneath the cloak became visible: a fitted black bodysuit designed more for movement than spectacle, interrupted only by angular panels of muted violet armor protecting your shoulders, forearms, hips, and knees.

For a long moment, your hood remained in place, obscuring everything except the curve of your jaw, until you released a quiet sigh and lifted one gloved hand to push it back.

Dark purple hair spilled freely over your shoulders, and the room was finally met with a face that looked far softer than anyone had expected. 

"...This better be important." You sighed, scanning the sea of surprised faces in the conference room. 

Across the room, Johnny blinked. Well, that wasn't...

That wasn't what he'd expected. He'd expected horns, or glowing red eyes, maybe some claws. Something. Anything that matched the classified reports he'd skimmed on the way over. Instead…

You looked normal. Beautiful, admittedly. Annoyingly so. His eyes lingered for perhaps a second longer than they should have before he caught himself, clearing his throat and forcing his attention elsewhere.

Seriously? A demon? That's what everyone's terrified of? He'd met scarier accountants.

You, meanwhile, hadn't acknowledged anyone else in the room. Your attention remained entirely fixed on Wanda.

"I was making tea."

"I know."

"I had just sat down."

"I know."

"It had steeped for exactly three minutes."

"...I know."

"You owe me another cup."

The corner of Wanda's mouth twitched. "I'll buy you a whole box."

"I like the expensive kind."

"I'm aware."

Only then did your eyes wander around the conference room, taking in the rows of military officers, government officials, Reed Richards, Ben Grimm, Sue Storm...and finally Johnny.

You regarded him for exactly half a second before moving on without so much as a flicker of recognition.

Johnny frowned. Rude.

Reed stepped forward first, extending a hand. "My name is Reed Richards."

"I know."

"...Right."

"You stretch."

"...I do."

"You overthink."

Ben coughed to hide a laugh, and Reed lowered his hand. "Fair enough."

Your attention shifted toward Sue. "Susan Storm."

She offered a small smile. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"You too."

"Ben Grimm." You nodded once. "I've heard good things."

Ben's rocky brow lifted. "...Really?"

"You volunteer at children's hospitals."

"...Yeah."

"They like you."

His expression softened almost immediately. "Well… Thank you."

Finally, your gaze landed on Johnny again. "...Fire."

He blinked. "...Excuse me?"

"You catch on fire."

"...Yeah."

You nodded once, as though confirming something to yourself. "Hm."

That was it, and nothing more. Johnny wasn't entirely sure why the single syllable irritated him as much as it did.

"So..." he said, folding his arms across his chest. "Do you always introduce people by their powers?"

"No."

"Then why me?"

"You seemed self-explanatory."

Ben barked out a laugh as Johnny shot him a look. "Oh, c'mon."

Before he could answer, the general standing at the head of the table cleared his throat. "If introductions are finished..."

"We have a mission requiring your assistance."

"I assumed."

"The Fantastic Four cannot complete it alone."

"I'm flattered."

"We're asking that you join them."

Your expression remained perfectly neutral. "No."

The answer came so quickly it almost overlapped his question. The general blinked. "...No?"

"I've retired."

"You are not retired."

"I retired myself."

"That isn't how this works."

"It worked wonderfully until about five minutes ago."

A few officials exchanged uncomfortable glances as the general inhaled slowly. "You understand the terms of your conditional release."

"I do."

"And that refusal to cooperate during a Level Omega event constitutes a violation."

"I know."

Then he opened the folder resting before him. "The Raft has already approved your return."

Your eyes dropped to the document in his hands.

"...You're serious."

"We are."

"I've complied with every restriction for six years."

"Yes."

"I've remained exactly where you told me."

"Yes."

"I've hurt no one."

"We know."

"And your reward is threatening to lock me up the moment you need something."

You let out a slow breath, rubbing absentmindedly at the silver ring wrapped around your finger before looking toward Wanda.

She didn't speak, but instead simply gave the smallest nod.

Not because she agreed with the government's methods. But because she already knew there was no changing their minds.

You looked back toward the general. "...How long?"

"Until the threat is neutralized."

"And then?"

"You return home."

You studied him for another long moment before your shoulders sagged ever so slightly in weary acceptance. "...I hate when you people remember I exist."

"There'll be conditions," you continued.

"I work with them." You motioned toward the Fantastic Four. "Not for you."

No objections.

"I answer to Reed tactically."

Reed nodded once.

"I don't wear tracking tech."

The general frowned.

"Non-negotiable."

"I don't kill unless there is absolutely no alternative."

Another nod.

"And the second this is over..." Your eyes swept across the room. "...I disappear."

The Baxter Building came into view just as the sun dipped below the Manhattan skyline, its glass exterior catching the last streaks of orange and gold before surrendering to the growing blue of evening.

You stood beside the quinjet's open ramp with one hand tucked beneath your cloak, your eyes following the building upward until they disappeared into the clouds.

"...It's taller than I imagined."

Ben chuckled beside you as the team made their way down the ramp. "Reed compensates."

"I heard that," Reed called from several paces ahead without turning around.

"I wanted ya to."

A ghost of a smile tugged at your mouth, small enough that only Ben happened to catch it.

"Huh."

You looked over. "What?"

"Nothin'." He kept walking. "Just thought maybe your face got stuck for a second there."

The smile disappeared. "It did."

"That's more like it."

Johnny watched the exchange from farther up the walkway, eyebrows lifting despite himself.

She smiled. Barely, but it happened. Weird.

For someone whose government file read like the opening chapter of the apocalypse, she seemed normal. Or at least close enough. Not that he'd admit it, anyway. 

The lobby was unlike anything you'd expected, sunlight giving way to warm lighting that reflected against polished stone floors and impossibly high ceilings.

Massive windows overlooked Manhattan from nearly every angle, while sleek laboratories stretched beyond glass partitions and robotics wandered the halls carrying trays of equipment with surprising efficiency.

One particularly small robot rolled directly toward Ben.

"Hey, buddy."

The robot extended what appeared to be a tiny mechanical arm, and Ben bumped it with his fist.

"...Cute."

Everyone looked at you, so you shrugged. "What?"

"You just called H.E.R.B.I.E. cute," Johnny said.

"I did."

"...Most people call him unsettling."

"I like unsettling."

"...Right."

Reed set the mission folder onto the nearest workstation before turning toward the group. "We'll begin briefing first thing tomorrow morning. Everyone should use tonight to settle in and familiarize themselves with the building."

His gaze shifted toward Johnny. "Johnny."

Johnny looked up from where he'd been leaning against the counter. "Yeah?"

"Would you mind showing her around?"

Johnny looked at you, and you looked back. Then, almost simultaneously:

"No."

"No."

Reed blinked. "I wasn't asking both of you."

"I know," you replied.

Johnny pointed toward himself. "Why am I tour guide?"

"Because you're the most familiar with the residential floors."

Ben snorted loudly enough to earn a glare from Sue. "He means because you'd talk to a brick wall if it smiled at you."

"I do not—"

"You named the toaster."

"It deserved a name."

"It was a toaster."

"It made excellent toast."

Reed pinched the bridge of his nose. "Johnny."

He sighed dramatically. "...Fine."

Reed smiled. "Thank you."

"You know I hate being volun-told to do something."

"I know."

A few minutes later, the two of you stepped into the elevator alone, the doors sliding shut with a quiet chime.

Johnny leaned casually against the mirrored wall, shoving both hands into the pockets of his jacket before stealing a glance toward you.

You stood perfectly still near the opposite corner, your cloak hanging neatly around your shoulders, eyes fixed on the glowing floor numbers as though they were infinitely more interesting than conversation.

He gave it approximately seven seconds. "So..."

Nothing.

"You always this chatty?"

"...Compared to who?"

"...People."

"I've met people."

"And?"

"They're exhausting."

Johnny laughed once. "...Okay."

The elevator climbed another five floors. "So," he tried again, "Eclipse isn't your real name."

"No."

"You gonna tell me the real one?"

"No."

"...Can I guess?"

"You can."

"Will you tell me if I'm right?"

"No."

He grinned despite himself. "You know, this whole mysterious thing probably works on most people."

"It isn't a thing."

"No?"

"I simply don't know you."

"...Fair."

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open onto a hallway lined with expansive windows overlooking the city.

Johnny stepped out first. "Alright, bedrooms are down this hall, kitchen's around the corner, gym's two floors below, labs are—"

"You've done this before."

"...What?"

"The tour."

"...Yeah?"

"You memorized it."

"I live here."

"You practiced."

"I absolutely did not practice."

You looked at him. "...You rehearsed in the mirror."

"I—"

He stopped walking. "I have literally never—"

"You gesture with your right hand every time you mention a room."

"...That's called pointing."

"You smiled before saying 'kitchen.'"

"...People like kitchens."

"You enjoy giving tours."

"I do not enjoy giving tours."

"You've slowed your pace three separate times so I could keep up despite the fact I've matched your speed since we left the elevator."

Johnny stared. "...Are you profiling me?"

"I'm observing you."

"...That's somehow worse."

"It usually is."

He let out an incredulous laugh. "Alright."

He pointed a finger toward you. "My turn."

"I'm listening."

"You're judging me."

"I am."

"You think I'm annoying."

"I do."

"You've decided that in under ten minutes."

"I decided approximately forty-three seconds after meeting you."

"...Forty-three?"

"You interrupted Wanda."

"I was asking a question."

"You interrupted."

Johnny folded his arms. "You know..."

A grin slowly spread across his face. "I don't think you're nearly as intimidating as everyone's made you out to be."

Then, you smiled the kind of smile someone wore immediately before saying something devastating. "I don't think you're nearly as charming."

Johnny's grin faltered. "...Excuse me?"

"You've attempted to flirt with me three times since we left the conference room."

"I wasn't flirting."

"You complimented my eyes."

"I said they were interesting."

"You asked if all demons looked this pretty."

"...That was hypothetical."

"You winked."

"...That could've been an eye twitch."

"It wasn't. But don’t worry, I've definitely had worse."

Johnny couldn't help laughing. "...You know what?"

"What?"

"I'm gonna make you like me."

You resumed walking without looking back. "I admire your optimism."

"...That's not a no."

"It wasn't intended to be encouragement, either."

Johnny watched you continue down the hallway, cloak trailing quietly behind you, and shook his head with an amused scoff before following after.

He had no idea why proving you wrong suddenly sounded like such a good challenge.

And you had no idea that the cocky man walking a few paces behind you would, in a matter of weeks, become the one person capable of getting under your skin in ways no one else ever had.

Three days. Three days inside the Baxter Building had been enough for everyone to establish a routine.

Reed practically lived in the laboratory. Sue alternated between mission planning and reminding Reed to eat. Ben could almost always be found in the kitchen. Johnny?

Johnny had made it his personal mission to discover exactly how many sarcastic remarks one person could make before another finally snapped. Current record?

Seventy-two. You hadn't so much as raised your voice.

The training room occupied nearly the entire sublevel of the building, reinforced walls stretching nearly three stories high and lined with holographic projectors capable of simulating almost any battlefield imaginable.

Weapons racks covered one wall while combat drones stood dormant along another, each waiting for Reed to activate them when necessary.

You were already inside when Johnny arrived.

A long practice staff rested comfortably between your hands as you guided it through slow, deliberate movements, the wood spinning over your shoulders, around your back, and between your fingers with the kind of effortless precision that only came from years of repetition.

Johnny stopped in the doorway. "...Show off."

Without looking up, you answered. "I heard that."

"I know."

The staff continued its lazy rotation. "You wanted me to."

"...Maybe."

Only then did you glance in his direction. "What do you need?"

"Ouch."

"What?"

"You make it sound like seeing me is a chore."

"It usually is."

Johnny pressed a hand dramatically against his chest. "You know, that one actually hurt."

"I'm devastated."

"You don't sound devastated."

"I was lying."

He laughed through his nose. "I figured."

He wandered farther into the room, grabbing a pair of sparring gloves from a nearby bench before tossing them carelessly back down. "So."

You continued practicing. "So."

"I've been thinking."

"My condolences."

Johnny paused. "...Do you rehearse these?"

"No."

"They're coming out a little too fast."

"I've had three days."

"To do what?"

"Study you."

He blinked. "...Study me?"

"You aren't particularly complicated."

"Oh?"

You finally stopped moving.

The staff settled horizontally across the back of your shoulders as both hands rested casually over either end. "No."

"I'm listening."

"You crave attention."

"I do not."

"You've interrupted Reed seventeen times this week."

"They were important interruptions."

"You flirt with anything that has a pulse."

"...That's slander."

"You've flexed in reflective surfaces on four separate occasions."

"I was stretching."

"You named the espresso machine."

"...Espressa."

You stared. "...You named it Espressa."

"It was funny."

"It wasn't."

Ben wandered into the room just in time to hear the end of the conversation. "It kinda was."

Johnny pointed triumphantly. "See?"

"I didn't say it was good."

Johnny groaned. "Oh, c'mon."

Ben settled himself onto one of the nearby benches with a cup of coffee, clearly sensing entertainment.

You looked back toward Johnny. "My observations remain unchanged."

He folded his arms. "You done?"

"For now."

"Good." A grin spread slowly across his face. "'Cause I got one."

"I'm thrilled."

"You think you're better than everybody."

"You walk around here as if you've already figured everyone out."

"You barely talk."

"Mhm."

"You act like nothing impresses you."

"Mhm."

"And you've got this whole..." He gestured vaguely toward you. "...mysterious thing going on."

"...Go on."

"I think it's an act."

"An act."

"Yeah." He shrugged. "I think everyone keeps telling me how scary you are."

Another shrug. "So far? You've just been kinda mean."

Ben muttered quietly into his coffee. "...He's gonna regret that."

You rested the practice staff against the weapons rack before slowly rolling your sleeves back over your forearms. "I've been called worse."

"I'm sure." Johnny took another step forward. "So let's see it."

You tilted your head. "...See what?"

"What everyone's so afraid of."

"Spar me."

Ben looked up immediately. "...Johnny."

"What?"

"I wouldn't."

Johnny waved him off. "It's training."

"Johnny."

"What?"

"I said I wouldn't."

"I'm not asking her to vaporize me."

"No." Ben took another sip. "I'm worried she'll make you cry."

Johnny rolled his eyes. "Oh, please."

He looked back toward you. "Unless..."

He smirked. "...you're worried."

You stared at him for several long seconds. Then, "...One condition."

His grin widened. "There we go."

"No powers."

"...Seriously?"

"You wanted to see what I could do."

You unclipped the twin daggers from your belt, setting them neatly onto the bench before unfastening your sword and placing it beside them. "No magic."

The gloves followed. "No weapons."

Finally, you stepped into the center of the mat. "Just us."

Johnny cracked his neck. "Works for me."

Across the room, Sue and Reed entered just as Ben called, "...You're both gonna wanna see this."

Johnny dropped into a fighting stance, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet. You simply stood there, hands resting loosely behind your back.

"...You're not even gonna put your fists up?"

"I haven't decided if you've earned them."

"Oh, that's cocky."

"It is."

"You know what?"

He rushed first, fast, with a clean right hook aimed toward your jaw. But you weren't there.

He barely had time to register the movement before your hand caught his wrist, redirected the momentum effortlessly past your shoulder, and sent him stumbling three steps beyond you.

"...Again."

Johnny turned. "...Lucky."

He came faster this time. Combination strikes. Left. Right. Body. Kick. Every single one met empty air.

Not because you were particularly quick. But because you moved exactly enough. An inch. Half a step. A slight turn of your shoulder. The smallest tilt of your head.

He wasn't fighting someone faster than him. He was fighting someone who somehow already knew where he intended to strike.

His frustration began building almost immediately. "You gonna hit me?" he snapped.

"You haven't given me an opening."

"I've given you plenty."

"No."

Another swing, which you counter with another effortless sidestep. "You've given me opportunities."

He spun. "What's the difference?"

"You survive one."

His teeth clenched. "Oh, now you're just pissing me off."

"I noticed."

He lunged again. This time, however, you moved. One hand caught his wrist while the other hooked beneath his elbow. A single pivot of your hips and suddenly the floor disappeared beneath him.

Johnny hit the mat hard enough to force the air from his lungs. Before he could even sit up, a knee rested against his chest, and one hand pinned his wrist.

The other hovered two inches from his throat, perfectly still. You hadn't even broken a sweat.

Johnny blinked up at the ceiling. "...How."

"I've been doing this longer than you've been alive."

"I'm twenty-seven."

"I know."

"...How old are you?"

You smiled. "Rude."

Then you stood, offering him a hand. He looked at it, then back at you. "...No."

"As you wish." You withdrew it immediately.

Johnny climbed to his feet on his own, brushing imaginary dust from his shirt as his jaw tightened.

Across the room, Ben whistled low beneath his breath. "Damn."

Sue looked genuinely impressed. "I don't think I've ever seen him taken down that quickly."

Reed, meanwhile, was already scribbling notes into a tablet. "Fascinating."

Johnny glared. "...Whose side are you on?"

"No one's." Reed didn't even look up. "I'm simply documenting that she anticipated every strike approximately four-tenths of a second before you initiated movement."

Johnny groaned. "Reed."

"What?"

"Stop making it sound worse."

"I'm making it sound measurable."

You retrieved your weapons one by one, fastening each back into place with practiced efficiency before pulling your sleeves back into their usual position.

Just before leaving the room, you glanced back over one shoulder. "For what it's worth..."

Johnny folded his arms. "What?"

"You almost landed one."

His expression brightened...

"Maybe another six months."

...and immediately fell again.

Steel beams twisted like paper overhead, showering the cracked concrete below with showers of rust and splintered glass as something enormous dragged itself through the skeletal remains of the station. 

The dimensional fracture hanging above the tracks pulsed with violent streaks of violet lightning, each pulse widening the tear another few feet until fragments of another world bled into New York's skyline, jagged cliffs and crimson clouds flickering in and out of existence where they had no business being.

Civilians screamed somewhere beyond the collapsed entrance while police sirens echoed in the distance.

"Reed!" Sue's voice crackled through the comms as another support column buckled. "The west side's giving out!"

"I know," Reed answered, stretching across nearly thirty feet to keep another section of the roof from collapsing onto a cluster of trapped civilians. "Ben, reinforce the eastern wall. Sue, evacuation corridor. Johnny—"

"I see 'em."

Johnny was already gone. A streak of orange fire shot past the fractured ceiling before anyone could stop him, weaving between falling debris toward a family trapped beneath a collapsed platform.

Your head snapped upward. "Johnny."

No response. "Johnny."

Still nothing, so you closed your eyes for a second. The void answered your call.  The creature wasn't attacking the civilians; it was waiting.

"Johnny!" Your voice rang through every communicator at once.

"Don't go underneath—"

The floor exploded.

A deafening crack tore through the station as massive black tendrils erupted from beneath the tracks, wrapping themselves around the steel support beams before violently wrenching them downward. 

The entire western platform lurched, concrete splitting apart beneath Johnny's feet as thousands of tons of metal began collapsing inward.

"Shit—"

Everything happened at once. Johnny tried to pull upward, but it was too late.

A support beam slammed across his back, sending him crashing through two stories of concrete before disappearing beneath an avalanche of twisted steel.

"JOHNNY!" Sue's scream echoed through the station.

Your body moved before your mind did. The creature lunged, but you ignored it.

Void energy erupted from beneath your boots, black ribbons spiraling violently around your body as you shot forward, one hand extending toward the collapsing terminal while the other disappeared into the growing darkness surrounding your arm.

Every falling piece of debris froze. Thousands of tons of concrete hung suspended in midair. Steel screamed, windows shattered across neighboring buildings, and the sky darkened.

Reed looked up from the civilians just in time to watch the entire station stop collapsing. "...No..."

Your feet never touched the ground. You hovered beneath the fractured ceiling, one arm trembling violently as impossible amounts of weight settled against your shoulders.

Blood trickled from your nose, then your ears. The darkness surrounding you deepened until tiny stars shimmered within it, the void stretching across the station ceiling like ink spilled into water.

"Ben!" Reed shouted. "Get Johnny!"

Ben didn't hesitate. He barreled beneath the frozen rubble while you continued holding the entire structure in place, every muscle in your body beginning to shake as the dimensional energy fought against your own.

"Hurry," you breathed.

Ben disappeared beneath the debris.

"I GOT 'IM!"

Ben emerged carrying Johnny over one shoulder, the younger man coughing violently through clouds of dust as the four of you cleared the station.

The second Ben crossed the evacuation perimeter, your hand dropped. The building collapsed, the sound shaking the city as dust swallowed the skyline. When the smoke finally settled, nothing remained.

The emergency crews worked around them almost immediately, paramedics weaving through civilians while SHIELD agents established a perimeter around the dimensional fracture now slowly sealing itself overhead.

You stood several yards away from the rest of the team, one gloved hand pressed discreetly beneath your nose as you wiped away another streak of blood before anyone could notice.

Of course, however, Johnny did. "You knew."

You looked over. "I did."

"You knew it was a trap."

"I told you not to go."

"I was trying to save those people!"

"They were bait."

"They were civilians!"

"They were already evacuated!"

His voice rose. "Then maybe tell somebody that!"

"I tried."

"You yelled my name!"

"I expected you to listen!"

"I don't take orders from you!"

"No." You laughed once, though you weren't amused. "I've noticed."

"You think you're always right," Johnny continued, still riding the high of adrenaline and humiliation. "You walk around acting like everybody else is an idiot."

"I think before I act."

"I think too."

"Barely."

His jaw tightened. "You don't trust anybody."

"I trusted you to follow the plan."

"I made a judgment call."

"You made a reckless one."

"I SAVED PEOPLE!"

"YOU ALMOST GOT YOURSELF KILLED!"

Your breathing had become heavier now. "You are not invincible, Johnny."

"I never said I was."

"You behave like you are."

"I was trying to do the right thing!"

"And I was trying to make sure you survived long enough to do it."

He scoffed. "Oh, here we go."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're always talking down to everybody."

"I am explaining consequences."

"You're acting like you're better than us."

"No."

"You are."

"No."

"You think because you've got all these scary powers—"

"My powers have nothing to do with this."

"They have everything to do with this!"

He threw both hands into the air. "Everybody walks around here like you're some tragic saint. You barely speak. You judge everybody."

You simply looked at him. "I observe."

"You hide behind that cloak, and those one-word answers like you're above the rest of us."

Ben stepped forward. "Johnny."

"Not now."

Sue frowned. "Johnny."

"I'm talking."

"No," Reed said quietly. "You're escalating."

Johnny looked around. Everyone, every single one of them, was watching him. Watching you. Watching the argument.

His embarrassment curdled into frustration. Frustration became anger. And anger made him careless.

"You know what?"

You remained silent.

"Maybe there's a reason everybody keeps leaving you."

He took another step. "Maybe all those files weren't wrong."

Ben's expression shifted immediately. "...Kid."

Johnny didn't hear him. "Maybe you're not misunderstood. Maybe you're just impossible."

Your face hadn't changed, and that somehow made him crave a reaction even more.

"So tell me." His voice dropped. "When your own people sent you away..."

Another step. "...did it ever occur to you that maybe they had a good reason?"

When you finally spoke, your voice barely carried above a whisper.

"I saved your life."

Johnny's chest tightened. "I know—"

"I held a building over my head..."

Your gaze never left his. "...and the first thing you chose to do afterward was become another person who decided they knew my story. I expected better."

"...I..." One step.

You closed the distance between you. Johnny thought, hoped, you were going to walk past him. Instead…your fist connected cleanly with his jaw.

The impact wasn't enhanced by magic; it didn't need to be. His head snapped to the side as he stumbled backward, catching himself just before he hit the pavement.

You flexed your aching hand once before pulling your hood back over your head.

"I've fought monsters..." The shadows gathered around your boots. "...They've rarely disappointed me as much as people."

Void energy climbed your body in slow ribbons, swallowing your silhouette piece by piece until only your eyes remained visible beneath the hood.

"I hope saying that made you feel good."

A violent gust swept through the ruined street. Then, you were gone.

Johnny stood frozen, one hand against his jaw, his pulse still racing. Not from the punch, but from the realization that, somewhere between the collapsing building and this argument, he'd crossed a line he couldn't uncross.

Ben was the first to speak. He looked at Johnny for a long moment before shaking his head.

"...Kid." There wasn't anger in his voice, only disappointment. "You really fucked that one up."

By the time Johnny could muster up enough courage to come talk to you, it had been well beyond midnight. 

Sleep had proven impossible, his mind replaying the argument over and over until every word he'd thrown at you echoed back louder than the last, each one somehow sounding crueler in hindsight than it had in the moment.

Ben hadn't spoken to him since returning to the Baxter Building; Sue had offered him one look that managed to convey an entire lecture without saying a single word, and Reed had quietly informed him that you still hadn't returned before disappearing back into his lab, leaving Johnny alone with the growing pit in his stomach that had only deepened with every passing hour.

He hadn't meant it; that much was true. But intent didn't erase impact. And judging by the look on your face before you'd disappeared… he wasn't sure an apology would either.

Finding you hadn't been particularly difficult.

The Empire State Building was the tallest structure within several miles, and somehow it felt painfully obvious that if you were going to disappear anywhere, it would be somewhere the rest of the world couldn't follow.

Johnny landed softly atop the observation tower, the warm glow of Manhattan stretching endlessly beneath him as millions of city lights flickered against the darkness like stars reflected on water.

You sat at the very edge of the building, legs crossed, hands resting lightly atop your knees.

Your cloak pooled around you in dark folds that fluttered lazily in the wind, the hood long since pushed back as loose strands of hair drifted across your face. 

You didn't turn around. "I figured it'd take you longer."

Johnny rubbed the back of his neck. "...You knew I was here?"

"You've been hovering behind that antenna for almost two minutes."

He looked back over his shoulder. "...Seriously?"

"You've got a very recognizable heat signature."

"...Right."

Johnny took a few hesitant steps forward, stopping several feet away.

"You can come closer."

His eyebrows lifted. "I wasn't sure if you'd throw me off the building."

"You'd survive."

"...True."

He lowered himself onto the concrete beside you, though he made certain to leave enough space between you that neither of your shoulders came close to touching.

Johnny rested his forearms against his knees. "I've never actually been up here."

"It's nice."

"...Yeah."

"I’ve been coming here a lot."

"I kinda figured."

Johnny stared out across Manhattan before quietly asking, "Do you ever get lonely?"

"Constantly."

"I thought..." He searched for the right words. "...I don't know."

"You thought I preferred being alone."

"...Yeah."

"I prefer solitude." You looked out toward the city. "That doesn't mean I enjoy loneliness."

He hadn't expected that answer; hell, he hadn't expected you to answer at all.

"I'm sorry."

Your gaze remained fixed on the skyline.

"For today."

Still nothing.

"For... all of it." Johnny swallowed. "I shouldn't have said any of that."

"You shouldn't have."

"I don't even know why I did."

"You were angry."

"I was embarrassed."

You nodded once. "I noticed."

"I wanted to win."

Finally, you looked at him. "And?"

He let out a quiet, humorless laugh. "...Doesn't feel much like winning."

Johnny stared down at his hands. "I read your file."

"I figured."

"I thought I understood you."

"No."

"I didn't."

"No."

"I was wrong."

Your expression softened. "But you believed it."

He frowned. "What?"

"You believed everything you read. It wasn't your fault."

"It kinda was."

"No." You shook your head. "They wrote those reports to make people afraid of me."

"They worked."

"They usually do."

Johnny turned to look at you. "I don't think you're scary."

A quiet huff of laughter escaped you. "...That's unfortunate."

"No, I mean—"

"I know." Your face warmed a tad. "I know what you meant."

He found himself smiling back before he even realized he was doing it. "There it is."

Your brows knit together. "What?"

"You smiled."

"It was an accident."

"I don't think it was."

"It won't happen again."

"I dunno..." He leaned ever so slightly closer. "I kinda like it."

You held his gaze for just a second longer than either of you probably should have.

Your eyes drifted down to his lips for the briefest heartbeat before you caught yourself, the realization hitting like cold water. You stood abruptly. 

Johnny blinked, almost disappointed by how quickly the warmth between you disappeared.

"I should go."

He rose with you. "You don't have to."

"I do."

"You don't."

"I do."

He sighed softly. "I know saying sorry doesn't fix it."

"It doesn't."

"But..." He hesitated. "I want to."

You looked back at him. "...Want to what?"

"Make it up to you."

"I don't know how yet." A small, self-conscious shrug. "But I will."

"...We'll see."

Three evenings later, a steady tapping echoed against your bedroom window. Not loud enough to startle you, just persistent enough to pull your attention away from the novel balanced comfortably in your lap.

You frowned, confused. Your room occupied one of the upper residential floors of the Baxter Building. There wasn't exactly a hallway outside your window.

The tapping came again. You set the book aside before walking toward the glass, pulling the curtain back just enough to peer outside.

Johnny floated a few feet beyond the window, one hand tucked behind his back while the other tapped the glass once more, a sheepish grin already spreading across his face the second he realized you'd spotted him.

You stared. "...No."

He couldn't hear you through the glass, but he read your lips anyway. His grin widened.

You sighed toward the ceiling before unlatching the window, a rush of warm summer air immediately spilling into the room. "...What."

"Hi."

"...What."

"I come in peace."

"I doubt that."

Johnny laughed quietly before finally taking in the sight of you properly.

Gone was the indigo cloak.

The armor.

The belts.

The weapons.

Instead, you stood barefoot against the hardwood floor wearing an oversized charcoal sweatshirt whose sleeves nearly swallowed your hands, paired with black lounge shorts that disappeared beneath the hem. 

Your hair hung loose around your shoulders, slightly messy from where you'd clearly tied it back earlier before giving up, and a pair of reading glasses rested low on your nose, making you look significantly less like the government's most feared superweapon and considerably more like someone he'd accidentally interrupted halfway through a quiet evening.

"...You wear glasses."

You looked down at the book still resting open on your bed. "...Sometimes."

"I didn't know that."

"You've known me for two weeks."

"...Still." He smiled. "I like 'em."

You blinked once. "...Thank you."

Johnny mentally celebrated the fact that you'd accepted a compliment without immediately insulting him…progress.

"What are you doing here?"

"I have something to show you."

"No."

"You don't even know what it is."

"I don't need to."

"It involves food."

"...Continue."

He laughed. "I tried to make dinner."

"You cooked."

"I attempted to cook."

"A distinction."

"It went...decent."

"...Johnny."

"What?"

"You set cereal on fire yesterday."

"That happened one time."

"It happened yesterday."

"I've grown."

"In twenty-four hours."

"I've matured."

You folded your arms. "I remain unconvinced."

"Well..." He slowly extended one hand toward you through the open window. "Guess you'll have to come see for yourself."

Your eyes drifted from his face to the offered hand. "...You're asking me."

"I am."

"You could've just told me to follow you."

"I could've."

"But?"

"I figured I'd ask instead."

Eventually, you reluctantly slipped your hand into his, fingers closing gently around yours.

"You trust me?" you asked quietly.

He met your eyes. "Enough to catch you."

You glanced down toward the city several hundred feet below. "...That's not exactly what I meant."

"I know."

Your feet touched solid ground a moment later. You looked around, expecting... honestly, you weren't entirely sure.

A thick navy blanket had been spread across the concrete, anchored carefully beneath a pair of small lanterns that cast a warm golden glow over everything surrounding them. 

There was a wicker basket sitting off to one side alongside two neatly folded blankets in case the wind picked up, a thermos, two mismatched mugs, and what appeared to be an alarming amount of takeout containers.

You slowly turned toward Johnny. "...You made this?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well..."

"I definitely didn't make the food."

"I did almost burn the kitchen down trying."

"...Johnny."

"So I pivoted."

"You ordered takeout."

"I ordered from four different places."

You looked back toward the spread. "...Four?"

"I wasn't sure what you liked."

Your gaze drifted across the containers. Italian. Thai. Chinese. A little bakery box. Even fresh fruit.

"I figured statistically speaking..." he continued, "...one of them had to be your favorite."

You couldn't stop the tiny smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth. "That is... strangely logical."

"I've been listening to Reed more."

"It shows."

He grinned. "I also asked HERBIE to help."

Your eyebrows lifted. "...HERBIE planned the picnic?"

"He made a spreadsheet."

"...Of course he did."

"It was color-coded."

You wandered toward the blanket, your fingers brushing absentmindedly over one of the lanterns before crouching beside the basket.

There was more thought put into this than you'd expected. Napkins. Real silverware. Dessert. A deck of cards. Even...your fingers paused over a familiar hardcover tucked neatly beneath one corner of the basket.

You picked it up. "...This is my book."

Johnny looked almost guilty. "I borrowed it."

"You stole it."

"I borrowed it... aggressively."

You flipped it over in your hands. "There are page markers."

"I, uh..." His ears turned noticeably pink. "I asked Reed what kind of books you checked out from the Baxter library."

"You researched my reading habits?"

"I was trying to figure out what you'd actually enjoy."

You stared at him. "...Nobody's ever done that before."

Johnny's smile faded into something softer. "They should've."

Your eyes met his then, the annoyingly beautiful shade of blue staring back at you. The breeze carried a loose strand of hair across your face before Johnny instinctively reached forward.

His hand hesitated halfway there, so he looked at you with a silent look of permission. You gave the smallest nod.

Only then did he gently tuck the strand behind your ear, his fingertips brushing your temple so lightly they were gone almost before you could register the warmth.

Johnny's gaze dipped, just for a heartbeat, to your lips before returning to your eyes. "I meant what I said."

You blinked, confused. 

"...About making it up to you."

"...I know."

His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. "I also know this doesn't erase what happened."

"It doesn't."

"But..." He smiled, a little sheepishly. "...Can I at least buy myself another chance?"

You looked at him for a long moment, then slowly lowered yourself onto the blanket.

"...The food's getting cold."

Johnny's face lit up. "So that's a yes?"

You reached into one of the takeout bags before glancing up at him. "...Don't make me change my mind."

He practically dropped onto the blanket across from you. "Nope." 

You couldn't help it.

As you watched him immediately begin rambling about how HERBIE had insisted on proper picnic etiquette and how Reed had somehow turned food recommendations into a lecture on nutritional balance, another small smile found its way onto your face.

By the time the last takeout container sat empty between the two of you, the city had settled into that strange hour where New York never truly slept, but somehow still managed to grow quieter. Your conversation hadn’t faltered in the slightest, though. 

It had wandered from one meaningless topic to another with surprising ease, bouncing between Reed's inability to leave a conversation without somehow turning it into a lecture, Ben's secret obsession with old sitcom reruns that he'd vehemently deny if anyone asked, and HERBIE's insistence on announcing the weather every morning despite every room in the Baxter Building already having windows.

"...He gave me a five-minute forecast while I was brushing my teeth yesterday," Johnny said around a laugh.

You tilted your head. "...Did it rain?"

"No."

"So he was wrong."

"He was technically predicting humidity."

"...Of course he was."

Johnny snorted. "You fit in way better than you think."

You looked down at the mug warming your hands. "I don't think I do."

"You do."

"I tolerate everyone."

"They tolerate you back."

"I don't think that's the compliment you think it is."

"It absolutely is."

A smile tugged at your lips despite yourself, which Johnny caught immediately.

"You've smiled, what..." He pretended to count on his fingers. "...Five times tonight?"

"I have not."

"Six."

"I think you're hallucinating."

"I'm witnessing a miracle."

"I should've pushed you off the building."

"I would've looked majestic."

"You would've screamed."

"I would've screamed majestically."

Your laugh escaped before you could stop it.

Johnny froze. "...Whoa."

You cleared your throat almost immediately. "What?"

"That."

"What?"

"I've never heard you laugh."

"It was an isolated incident."

"It was adorable."

"It was temporary."

"It was cute."

"It was involuntary."

"I'll spend the rest of my life trying to hear it again."

The words left his mouth before he had time to think about them. Johnny blinked.

"...That came out way more romantic than I intended."

You looked over at him. "...Did it?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean..."

Another pause. "...Maybe a little."

You studied him for a second before looking back out over the skyline. "...I didn't mind."

Johnny smiled to himself. 

"So..."

You hummed.

"What'd you actually do before all..." He gestured vaguely toward you and your imaginary aura. "...this?"

"I liked libraries."

He looked over. "...Yeah?"

"They were quiet." You smiled faintly to yourself. "No one asked questions."

"What'd you read?"

"Everything."

"Favorite?"

"I don't have one."

"C'mon."

"I don't."

"You have to."

"I genuinely don't."

"You can't tell me you've never reread a book."

"...Pride and Prejudice."

Johnny's eyebrows shot up. "...Seriously?"

You nodded. "Seven times."

"I... did not expect that."

"What were you expecting?"

"I don't know." He laughed. "Ancient spell books."

"I've read those too."

"...Right."

As the conversation progressed, and without really thinking, his hand shifted across the blanket. You noticed it immediately, your eyes lingering there, then lifting to his.

He didn't say anything. Didn't encourage you, didn't ask. He simply left the choice entirely yours.

You exhaled a low sigh as your hand drifted across the blanket, fingertips brushing his. Johnny didn't move, didn't want to startle you or have you rethink your decision. Another second passed before your fingers finally slipped between his.

Johnny’s thumb brushed once over your knuckles, and you didn’t pull away.

“You know,” he said eventually, voice lower than usual, “I had a whole speech planned for this part.”

You glanced at him. “Of course you did.”

“It was good too. Very charming. Slightly self-deprecating. Perfect amount of sincerity.”

“And yet.”

“And yet I’m sitting here holding your hand like a teenager who just realized he’s allowed to.” He huffed a quiet laugh. “Reed would be taking notes.”

“Reed would be measuring the chemical composition of the moment.”

“Exactly.”

Your thumb moved this time, tracing the line of his. Johnny’s breath hitched, barely, but you felt it. The way his fingers tightened for half a second before consciously loosening again, giving you the choice to stay or retreat.

You stayed. So, he reached for the edge of the blanket, tugging it more securely around your legs.

“Cold?” he asked.

“No.”

“You’re always cold.”

“I’m fine.”

He studied your face for a second longer than necessary. The soft blue of his eyes looked darker up here, reflected city light catching in them. “You can tell me if you’re not.”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead you let your gaze drop to your joined hands, then back up. The distance between you on the blanket had somehow shrunk without either of you consciously moving.

“I know,” you said at last.

Johnny’s mouth curved, small and real. “Good.”

You could have left it there. Could have let the night stay soft and careful and unfinished. But the air between you had changed the moment your fingers interlaced, and neither of you seemed willing to pretend otherwise.

His free hand rose again. This time there was no hesitation when he reached for the strand of hair the wind kept stealing. He tucked it behind your ear the way he had earlier, only slower. His fingertips lingered at your temple, then traced down the side of your jaw with a carefulness that felt almost reverent.

“Can I—” he started.

You answered by leaning in.

The first kiss was quiet. Johnny’s mouth was warm and surprisingly soft, and for a second he seemed almost startled that you had closed the distance yourself. Then his hand slid to the back of your neck, and he kissed you back like he’d been waiting for permission longer than he’d admitted.

It stayed slow for a while, the kind of kissing that explored rather than claimed. You felt the heat of him rising under your palm when you finally set your free hand against his chest, felt the way his heart kicked harder the longer you stayed close. When you parted just enough to breathe, his forehead rested lightly against yours.

“Okay,” he murmured. “That was… yeah.”

You made a low sound that might have been agreement. Your fingers were still in his hair now (when had they moved?) and the slight tug you gave earned a soft, startled exhale from him.

Johnny’s eyes opened; the usual cocky spark was there, but quieter.

“You keep doing that,” he said, “and I’m going to start getting ideas.”

You tilted your head. “Then get them.”

He leaned in again, but this time you met him halfway and took control of the kiss. Your hand slid from his chest to the side of his throat, thumb resting just under his jaw, and Johnny made a quiet sound against your mouth that went straight through you.

When you finally drew back, his breathing had changed. “Blanket’s not exactly private,” he said.

You glanced toward the edge of the observation deck, then back at him. “No one else is up here.”

“Still.”

You rose onto your knees without breaking eye contact, then shifted until you were straddling his lap, knees bracketing his hips. Johnny’s hands settled automatically at your waist. He looked up at you like he was still half-convinced this was about to be taken away.

“Then stop talking about it,” you said quietly.

His answering grin was crooked and a little breathless. “Yes, ma’am.”

You kissed him again before he could say anything else. Your fingers threaded into his hair and tugged, guiding the angle of his head, and Johnny followed without resistance. His hands slid higher under the hem of your shirt, palms spreading heat across your lower back. When your teeth caught his lower lip, he made a low, needy sound that you felt more than heard.

You took your time undressing him. Jacket first, then the soft henley underneath, revealing the warm, golden plane of his chest and the faint residual glow that always seemed to live under his skin when his emotions ran high. 

Johnny watched you the entire time, blue eyes half-lidded, lips parted. When your hands finally settled on his belt, he lifted his hips to help, never once trying to rush or take over.

“You’re killing me,” he breathed when you paused to look at him.

“You’ll live.”

“Debatable.”

You finished with his jeans, then sat back just long enough to pull your own shirt over your head. Johnny’s gaze tracked every movement, open and hungry, but his hands stayed where they were, resting on your thighs, waiting. 

Only when you reached for his wrists and guided them higher did he touch you properly, palms sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts through the thin fabric of your bra.

You let him explore for a moment. Let him learn the shape of you with careful, reverent hands. Then you reached back, unhooked the clasp yourself, and watched his expression change as the fabric fell away.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

You leaned down and kissed the sound from his mouth.

The rest of your clothes followed in the same measured pace. Johnny’s hands never left you for long, but he didn’t try to set the rhythm. He let you decide when to straddle him fully again, skin to skin, the heat of him pressed against you. 

Let you decide when to roll your hips and draw that first broken groan from his throat. Let you decide when to reach between your bodies and guide him inside.

The stretch was slow. Johnny’s head tipped back against the blanket, eyes squeezed shut, hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave faint marks that would fade by morning. 

You took him inch by inch until you were seated fully, breathing through the fullness, watching the way his throat worked as he fought to stay still.

“You good?” you asked quietly. 

He nodded once, sharp. “Yeah. Just… give me a second.”

You gave him exactly that, then you began to move.

Slow at first. Deep, rolling your hips in a steady rhythm that made Johnny’s fingers dig into your skin. Every time you rose and sank back down, he made a sound, half curse, half prayer, and you cataloged each one. 

When you leaned forward, bracing your hands on his chest, the new angle dragged a sharper noise from him. His eyes fluttered open, dazed and dark.

“Look at me,” you said.

He did.

You kept the pace deliberate even as heat built low in your stomach. Johnny’s hands slid up your back, then down again, restless, like he didn’t know where to put them. 

You caught one of his wrists and pinned it lightly above his head against the blanket. His other hand stayed on your hip, guiding but never forcing. 

“You’re—” he started, then broke off with a low moan when you rolled your hips just so. “God, you’re so—”

“Quiet,” you murmured, and kissed him to make the point.

He went beautifully quiet after that. Only the soft, punched-out sounds he couldn’t quite swallow remained, each one feeding the slow burn under your skin. You kept him there, held on the edge, for longer than either of you expected. 

When his free hand finally slipped between your bodies and found the place that made your breath hitch, you let him. Allowed the extra friction, used it.

The orgasm rolled through you in a long, controlled wave. You stayed upright through it, hips still moving, riding it out while Johnny watched with something close to awe. Only when the last of it had passed did you lean down, lips against his ear.

“Your turn.”

You shifted the angle, took him deeper, and set a firmer rhythm. Johnny’s control frayed fast. His free hand gripped your waist hard; the one you still held above his head flexed uselessly against your fingers. 

When he came, it was with a broken, almost desperate sound, hips stuttering up into yours as heat flooded between you. You stayed with him through it, slow and steady, until the tension finally left his body in a long exhale.

Johnny’s chest rose and fell beneath your palms. His eyes were closed, lashes dark against his cheeks, the usual easy confidence stripped down to something softer. 

When you finally released his wrist, he didn’t immediately pull it back. He left it where it was for a few more breaths, as if the simple fact of being held still mattered.

Eventually you eased off him and reached for the edge of the blanket, tugging it up and around both of you. Johnny made a quiet, contented noise and shifted so you could settle against his side, head on his shoulder. 

One of his arms came around you automatically, the other resting over your waist. The residual warmth of him soaked into your skin..

Johnny pressed a slow kiss to the top of your head. “So,” he said after a long moment. “That happened.”

You hummed.

“Any chance we can do it again sometime? Preferably somewhere with actual walls and fewer potential witnesses.”

“Possibly.”

“I’ll take it.”

His fingers traced idle patterns along your bare shoulder. The touch was unhurried, almost absentminded. After a while he spoke again.

“You know I’m still going to try to make you laugh, right? Even after… this.”

You tilted your head just enough to look at him and notice the soft blue of his eyes were calm now.

“I know.”

“Good.” He smiled. “Because that sound is still my new favorite thing.”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you let your eyes close and shifted closer, one leg sliding over his as Johnny’s arm tightened around you in answer.

that is all. hope you enjoyed! <33

the taglist system has been fucking me royally so i'm sorry if you are on this list and didn't get tagged IDK HOW TO FIX IT UGH >:(

taglist:

Plates clinked softly as the little robot hummed to himself, dutifully stacking dishes before zipping them toward the sink. Charlotte couldn't help but smile as she threw on an apron and reached for the dish towel.

"I'll wash," she teased, nudging H.E.R.B.I.E.'s metal arm. "You dry."

H.E.R.B.I.E. chirped happily, extending one of his mechanical appendages toward the faucet before giving an enthusiastic beep of approval.

"I know," Charlotte laughed. "I'm slowing you down."

A series of electronic whistles answered her. "Well, aren't you just the sweetest thing?"

"I've been told that once or twice." Johnny's voice drifted into the kitchen before he did.

Dressed in his Fantastic Four uniform, he leaned casually against the doorway, tugging one of his gloves into place with an all-too-satisfied grin.

Charlotte glanced over her shoulder, unable to hide her smile. "I was talking to H.E.R.B.I.E."

Johnny placed a hand over his chest in mock offense, "Ouch."

She laughed softly as she turned back to the little robot. "He's making me blush today."

H.E.R.B.I.E. chirped proudly, almost as if agreeing with her. Johnny pointed an accusing finger at the little robot.

"You know, for a robot, you've got a dangerous amount of game."

H.E.R.B.I.E. answered with a triumphant whistle. Charlotte couldn't help but giggle, "I think he's winning." She placed a quick kiss to the robots head.

Johnny sighed dramatically, "I've been replaced by a robot before..." he looked down at his watch, "nine in the morning."

"Don't worry," Charlotte teased, handing the last plate to H.E.R.B.I.E. to dry. "You're still my favorite human."

Charlotte finished drying her hands and set the dish towel on the counter just as Johnny closed the distance between them. Without a word, he slipped an arm around her waist, the other hand gently tilting her chin toward him.

"Is that so?" he murmured, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Mm-hmm."

"I'll take it." He pulled her against him and captured her lips in a slow, lingering kiss that left her smiling before it was even over.

When he finally drew back, he rested his forehead against hers. Johnny's grin returned in full.

"See?" he said softly. "That's all I needed to hear."

Charlotte laughed, giving his chest a playful shove, "Don't let it go to your head, Hotshot."

"Too late."

Charlotte rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway.

"That ego of yours is going to need its own room one of these days."

"Already does." Johnny said matter of factly.

"Oh?"

"Right here." He tapped the center of his chest proudly.

She nodded her head, "How convenient." Chuckling to herself, she reached up and smoothed the front of his blue-and-white uniform.

Her fingers brushed over the embroidered 4 on his chest before straightening the collar he'd managed to leave slightly crooked.

"You know," she murmured, "for someone the city insists is one of its greatest heroes, you're remarkably incapable of dressing yourself."

Johnny glanced down as she fussed over him,

"That's why I keep you around."

She looked up, feigning offense, "Excuse me?"

His grin softened, "Well... that, and because I'm crazy about you." She patted his chest, and pressed a kiss to his chin, leaving a lipstick stain. "Much better."

She gently wiped away the pink stain from his chin, and Johnny looked down at himself.

"How do I look?"

Charlotte stepped back, pretending to inspect him. "Presentable."

"Presentable? You helped dress me." He questioned, and she smiled at him.

"Don't push your luck."

He laughed before nodding toward the folder resting on the counter. "So..." he said. "What's the damage today?"

Charlotte picked up the folder and flipped it open. "Prepare yourself, because it's a lot.

Press briefing at ten. Reed's demonstration immediately after. Questions from the press, then a meeting with the Future Foundation board." She turned another page. "Lunch with the mayor's office, interviews with Channel Six and the Daily Bulletin..."

Johnny groaned dramatically.

"I'm not finished yet...and," she continued, unable to hide her amusement, "you're expected to smile through all of it."

"Smile? Now that's asking too much."

She nudged him lightly with the folder.

"You'll survive."

He watched her for a moment before his expression turned just a touch more earnest. Johnny tapped the folder with his finger, "How about tonight?"

Charlotte opened the folder, "Tonight? Oh no, did I forget something? Because the last thing we have on the schedule is the Channel Six Bulletin..."

Johnny took the folder from her hands and Charlotte looked up. "Dinner. Tonight. And before you can say, 'we have dinner together every night,' let me ask you this." He sat the folder on the counter.

"When was the last time we had dinner somewhere that didn't involve Reed disappearing halfway through because he had an idea? Or it was interrupted by some emergency?"

Charlotte looked up thoughtfully; honestly, she couldn't remember the last time dinner wasn't interrupted.

Johnny slipped his hands into the pockets of his uniform, "What do you say we pretend we're normal people for one night?"

Charlotte tilted her head. "Normal?"

"Dinner." He shrugged. "Maybe a walk through Central Park. I'll walk you home."

One of her brows arched, "You mean... upstairs? You don't live that far from the park."

Johnny's grin grew, "No." He stepped closer until only inches separated them. "I mean your apartment. I feel like I haven't seen it in weeks."

To be fair, neither of you had seen your apartment in a couple of weeks.

"You haven't, because I haven't either." Charlotte stated and then she sighed, “Oh, I forgot, tomorrow I have two schools coming for a field trip. I’m giving them a tour.”

His smile softened, losing some of its usual mischief. "One, I miss your couch. Two, I know you’re nervous about tomorrow, but you’ll do fantastic.”

Charlotte laughed, "One, you have an entire floor of couches here. And two, thank you but I’m still nervous.”

"They're not your couch." He defended.

Shaking her head with an affectionate smile, Charlotte reached up and smoothed the front of his uniform, straightening his collar before brushing a speck of lint from his shoulder.

"There," she murmured. "Now you look like New York's favorite hero."

"Favorite?" he teased. "Not your favorite?"

She looked into his bright blue eyes and smiled.

"I thought we'd already settled that."

Johnny's expression melted into something softer. “So..."

"So..."

"Is that a yes?" He asked.

Charlotte nodded, "It's a date."

"Seven o'clock," he said.

She smiled and replied back, "Seven o'clock."

"Dinner first. Then," continued, his hands falling to her waist, "I'm stealing you away from everybody else."

Charlotte felt a familiar warmth creep into her cheeks. "Johnny..."

His lips inched closer to her ear, "No reporters. No Reed calling us into the lab. No Ben knocking on the door because he can't find the remote."

His hands settled comfortably at her waist. "Just you and me."

She looked up at him through an amused smile.

"You seem awfully confident." She pulled back from his face, his cheek brushing hers.

Their eyes met, his nose brushing hers, "I am."

"And why's that?"

A mischievous glint lit in his eyes, "Because I have every intention of making sure you forget about tomorrow for a little while."

Before she could answer, he swept her effortlessly off her feet. Charlotte let out a surprised laugh, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck as he spun her once around the kitchen.

H.E.R.B.I.E. emitted an exaggerated series of whistles that sounded like applause.

Johnny looked at the little robot without taking his eyes off Charlotte.

"You hear that? Even H.E.R.B.I.E.'s rooting for me."

Charlotte shook her head, laughing. "Put me down!"

He leaned in, brushing one last lingering kiss against her lips before resting his forehead against hers.

"Tonight, will be special. I'll stay up all night for you." he whispered.

Charlotte smiled, "Don't make promises you can't keep."

Johnny's grin only widened. "Sweetheart..." He set her gently back on her feet, his hand lingering at the small of her back. "I wasn't planning on getting much sleep anyway."

Before Charlotte could respond, the rest of the team entered the kitchen, "Alright, let's get this day started!" Ben said as he rubbed his hands together.

Johnny pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, "We'll see you out there." He said before joining the three in the elevator.

He spun on his heel and jogged back into the kitchen. "Before I forget," Snatching Charlotte's folder off the counter, he uncapped a pen and scribbled across the top page before handing it back.

Tonight— Dinner at 7. Have a wonderful day beautiful.

He flashed her a grin, "So you won't forget."

He sat the pen on the counter, and took off for the elevator, "Have I ever forgotten anything?" She shouted as the doors started to close.

Johnny pointed at her, "There's a first time for everything, sweetheart!" The doors clicked shut and Charlotte looked down at her folder.

Almost absentmindedly, she traced her thumb over his handwriting. There wasn't much she forgot. She'd never been allowed to.

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Comment to be added to the tag list. Every tag list will be added to the bottom underneath the chapters.

Some connections feel written long before you ever cross paths.

Jolene Johnson has built a life she can be proud of. A life running her late father’s autobody shop, taking her boat out at sunrise, and coming home to her loyal German Shepherd, Chewbacca. She’s strong, self-reliant, and perfectly content with the quiet rhythm of her days. Love, she’s decided, just isn’t something she needs. Then one winter night, after two weeks away, Jolene walks into the small-town bar owned by her godparents and catches the attention of a stranger laughing at one of her jokes.

Sam Walsh is a Navy SEAL, stationed in Little Creek for six months of training before heading back overseas in July. He’s steady, composed, and used to keeping his emotions in check. When he meets Jolene, the daughter of a man who once wore the same uniform, something in him stirs. She’s everything he never expected: grounded, wild-hearted, beautiful and impossible to forget. From the start, their connection burns fast and fierce. Too strong for hesitation, too real to ignore. But as their worlds begin to collide, distance, duty, and the ghosts of their pasts threaten to pull them apart. Because sometimes love doesn’t wait for the perfect moment. It finds you in the most unexpected one, and dares you to simply hold on.

Table of Contents

NSFW Chapters 🔥

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 🔥 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 🔥 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 🔥 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 🔥 Chapter 20 🔥 Chapter 21 🔥 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24🔥

Fanart of Sam & Jolene : Kiss Cam BOOK 2 INFO HERE

List of Songs I listened to while writing

Tag list? Just ask babes

@strawberrypinky @peterhollandkait @sheneedsrocknroll92 @bruneambre @vinecstasy

Resources for Veterans and Their Loved Ones

In the United States:

Veterans Crisis Line – Dial 988, then press 1, or text 838255. Available 24/7, confidential, and for all service members, veterans, and their families — no matter discharge status.

VA.gov – https://www.va.gov/ Central hub for healthcare, disability claims, education benefits, housing assistance, and more.

Make the Connection – https://www.maketheconnection.net/ A VA-supported site sharing personal stories from veterans and offering mental health resources.

Wounded Warrior Project – https://www.woundedwarriorproject.org/ Provides physical and mental health support, peer groups, and transition assistance.

Team RWB (Red, White & Blue) – https://www.teamrwb.org/ Builds community and connection through fitness and social activities for veterans.

If you’re outside the U.S.: (Please feel free to send me more and I can update or correct!)

Combat Stress (UK) – https://combatstress.org.uk/ Free, confidential mental health services for veterans in the UK.

Veterans Affairs Canada – https://www.veterans.gc.ca/ Offers financial, health, and mental health support for Canadian veterans.

Lifeline (Australia) – https://www.lifeline.org.au/ or call 13 11 14 24-hour crisis support and suicide prevention services.

These are just a few of the many organizations out there doing incredible work, but this list is certainly not extensive. There are countless ways, big and small, to make a difference. I genuinely encourage you to reach out to your local VA office and ask what programs or volunteer opportunities they recommend. You might be surprised at how many ways there are to get involved.

Don’t be afraid to get creative: support can take many forms. Connect with local churches, community centers, or civic groups; sometimes they know of families quietly struggling who could use an extra hand. Even something as simple as dropping off a meal, writing a thank-you letter, or helping with errands can mean the world to someone.

And remember, it’s not just about veterans themselves. Their families often carry heavy loads too. If someone in your neighborhood has a loved one deployed or recently returned home, offering practical help or just a kind ear can make a huge difference. When I was in high school, for instance, the stable I worked at used to partner with the Wounded Warrior Project to host a rodeo at our local Agriculture Center. It wasn’t fancy, just a small-town event, but it brought people together, raised funds, and, most importantly, reminded everyone that support doesn’t have to be complicated to be meaningful.

You moaned softly as he pressed his body against yours. “You have to keep quiet. My neighbors are already asleep.” 

Just like that, he reached his hand in his coat pocket again and finally found the key. Pulling away from you, he unlocked his door and took your hand, dragging you inside his place. You smiled as you studied his place for a moment, while Joe slid his coat off. You haven’t been here for a while, and you noticed that he decorated the place a little better. It used to just have empty white walls. Now, there was a bookshelf and paintings on the wall. The one thing that caught your eyes was the frame that was in his hallway. It was a big frame with a picture of you, Sara, Wes, Jared, Laura and Joe. It was your whole friend group. 

You couldn’t help but admire it. It was one of your favorite photos of the group. Feeling Joe’s presence behind you, he brushed your hair away from your shoulder before planting a soft kiss on your cheek. 

“This is new.” You smiled at the picture. 

Joe hummed softly, wrapping his arms around your waist, his chin set against your shoulder. “Just put it up when I got back a few days ago.”

“It’s nice.” You turned to face him, his hand cupping your cheek. “I love that picture of us.”

Joe’s brown eyes sparkled as he studied your soft facial features. He didn’t say anything but the look on his face was saying so much. The way he was staring at you. He never looked at you that way before. 

“You know,” You cleared your throat. “You have been running in my mind too.”

A grin tugged on Joe’s face as he raised a brow at you, stepping back a little bit to fully look at you. Investigating your expression if you were actually telling him the truth. 

“Oh?” He grinned playfully.. 

You felt your cheeks flushed as you chuckled softly, leaning against his touch. Joe laughed softly, pulling you in his arms. He knew exactly what you meant by that, and he couldn’t help but squeeze you softly in his arms, reassuring that your thoughts were fine. 

That you weren’t the only one who also was thinking the same. 

“There it is again.” He said. “You’re so adorable when you’re all flustered.”

“It’s embarrassing.” You murmured on his chest. 

“Oh, darling. It’s fine.” Joe grinned. “Can’t deny the fact that maybe I also have been thinking the same.”

You gazed up at him, as Joe cupped your face between his hands, leaning down to kiss you softly. You let out a soft hum, smiling through the kiss. You were literally melting in his arms as he pulled you close, and you couldn’t help but think how this was something you could never imagine. 

This feeling. 

All of this. 

It was all so much to take in, and you didn’t know if your heart could still fit in your chest. Pulling away from the kiss, Joe took your hand and led you towards his bedroom. This was the first time you ever saw his private space. A king size bed in the middle of his room, two bedside tables on either side with a lamp on top. A walk-in closet on the left side, and a little desk on the right side of his room. It was spacious, but he was able to make it look so cozy. 

“It’s so… organized.” You smiled as you felt his hands on your hips. 

He slowly turned you around to face him, “I’m barely home, that’s why.”

“Unfortunately.” You joked. 

“I’d love to take you with me whenever I can.” Joe said.

“No,” You shook your head. “I want you to focus on your job. Don’t worry about me. It’s okay, really. I understand.” 

“Are you sure? I know my schedule is crazy.” 

“Joe, I understand your job.” You reassured him. “I know what I’m getting into.”

“And that’s why I love you.” 

Your body suddenly was paralyzed when you heard those three little words escaped Joe’s lips. He did admit to you tonight that he loved you, but he never actually said those three little words until now. It was three little words that meant too much. 

Three little words that made your heart swell. 

“I… I’m sorry.” Joe realized what he just said. “I didn’t mean to freak you out like that—”

“No,” You cut him off. “I love you too.” 

Pressing his lips on yours, he pulled your body against his as you kissed him deeply and hungrily. His hands on your hips gripped you tighter as you ran your fingers through his hair. For a moment, Joe kissed you passionately, and his hands ran down to your sides before he inserted them under your shirt. A soft gasp escaped from you through the kiss as he felt your warm skin under his touch. This was something that you never thought would actually happen to you. The dreams that you had weren't anything like this at all.

It was better.

Joe continued kissing you lovingly as he slowly led you towards his bed. The back of your knees found the edge of his bed as he pulled away from the kiss and gently and slowly laid you down. His knees dug on the mattress on both sides of your thighs as he towered over you, a smile tugging on his lips. Your hands found the buttons of his shirt and started unbuttoning them, Joe helping you with it and slipped it off his broad shoulders. Your eyes immediately studied his naked body in front of you and all you could think of was:

He was so beautiful.

So gorgeous.

Almost unreal. 

Joe watched as your hands gently caressed his bare chest, and you leaned in to press soft kisses all over it. Joe carefully closed his eyes, smiling through every kiss that you left in his body. It was almost like a dream to him as he found his fingers tangled in your hair. Then, your lips trailed up to his neck and on the line of his jaw before finding his lips again with yours. A soft moan escaped from him as he pulled your shirt over your head and threw them on the floor with the rest of his clothes. Soon, your bra was gone too, and you were completely naked in front of him. 

You felt your cheeks flushed as you covered your chest with your arms, and Joe immediately pulled away from the kiss, staring at you.

“You’re so beautiful, darling.” He whispered, gently taking your arms off your chest. “Don’t be embarrassed. You’re literally the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

His lips pressed a soft kiss on your forehead as you felt your cheeks heat up even more. Joe chuckled softly, cupping your face between his hands and gave you a small quick peck on the lips. 

“You’re so cute.” He murmured, pressing his face on your neck. “So smart.” He pressed a kiss on your neck. “So beautiful.” Another kiss on your collarbone. “Stunning.” Pressed a kiss on your chest. 

A breathless gasp escaped from you as his mouth found your nipple and sucked on it softly. You arched your back as his hands ran down your back and down to your sides. He continued to suck your nipple, making you squirm under his touch as his fingers played with the other one. Your hands tugged softly on his soft brown curls as he pulled away and trailed feather light kisses down your stomach. 

“Joe.” You whispered his name, only for him to grin even more.

The sound of his name escaping your lips was like music in his ears, and he wanted to hear more. He wanted to hear you make all the sounds that you have never made just for him. He left repeated soft kisses just on the bottom of your torso before his lips found your inner thighs. Another gasp escaped from you, and you could practically feel yourself trembling from how much you wanted him. 

“Joe, please.” You begged. 

“Easy, darling.” He smiled, kissing your inner thigh. “I want to learn all of you.”

You moaned softly, your eyes closing as you felt your head spin from all the heated kisses that left your skin on fire every time. Joe used his palm to open your legs even more and paused for a moment, gazing up at you. 

“Joe.” You said sternly, opening your eyes. 

“You’re so wet for me, darling.” He said, pressing a kiss on your wet clit, knowing it would just make you squirm even more.

Then, he moved up to you again, towering over you and pressed a kiss on your ear and whispered, “Tell me about those thoughts.”

“What?” You gazed up at him. 

“What did I do?” He smiled, kissing down your neck.

“Joe, please.” You pleaded. “Don’t make me do this.”

Joe smiled through your skin before his fingers found your clit, rubbing it softly and letting you moan out his name again. 

“Was it like this?” He asked, pressing on your sensitive spot. 

“Yes.” You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. 

Joe continued to rub your wet clit as he kissed you passionately, both of you moaning each other’s name. Your head was spinning, and you could practically feel Joe’s member hard between your legs as he inserted a finger inside of you. Your hands turned into a fist under the sheets as you arched your back, feeling Joe’s finger pumped inside of you deeper and faster. You were out of breath, your legs were trembling. Joe had gone down on you, his finger still pumping inside of you before taking it out and replaced it with his mouth. 

“Ah—!” A scream caught on your throat, your fingers finding his hair again. 

His tongue licked your sensitive spot until you were so close to scream his name, but you had clamped a hand over your mouth as pleasure built up inside of you. 

“Joe, stop. Stop.” You panted heavily. “I need you, please.”

“No, darling. Come for me.” He whispered as he sucked and licked your clit until your legs were trembling. 

You were trying your best to hold in the orgasm that was about to wash over you, but Joe kept going until you shattered right all over his mouth. You breathed heavily, throwing your head back on the pillow. Beads of sweat covered your forehead as you closed your eyes and felt Joe’s lips on yours. You felt him smile through the kiss as he slowly inserted himself inside your tight walls. A moan from you was muffled by his passionate kisses as he thrusted inside of you slowly. 

Pulling away from the kiss, Joe buried his face on your neck, quickening his pace and small groans escaping from him.

“Shit, fuck!” You cursed under your breath, your nails digging on the skin of his back. 

Joe let out breathless gasps as he moved deeper inside of you and thrusted faster. He slid his hands under your thighs, wrapping your legs around his hips as he continued. 

“Come here.” You panted, pulling him down for a kiss. 

Kissing you hungrily, Joe could feel your walls tightening around him as he groaned your name. You couldn’t even describe the feeling that you had, hearing your name like that escape from him. Your head was spinning, your vision was seeing stars as you scratched your nails down his back. You were making sounds that you didn’t know you could make before, and you have forgotten the world around you. You have forgotten your name as Joe thrusted deeper and kept continuing to hit you on the right spot. 

“Fuck, darling.” He cursed under his breath. “You’re so tight.”

“Don’t… stop.” You buried your face on his shoulder as you closed your eyes. 

You could feel the pleasure building up in your stomach as you flipped the both of you over on the bed and thrusted Joe inside of you faster. Your hands were holding onto the headboard, while Joe’s hands had found your hips. His mouth had found your nipple again as you moaned his name, throwing your head back. 

“That’s it, darling. Come for me.” Joe murmured, quickening his thrusts.

After a few more seconds, you finally let go, both of your moans echoing through the walls of his room as waves crashed over and pleasure took over the both of you. Breathing heavily, Joe slowed his thrusts as you collapsed on top of him in his arms. 

“I love you.” Joe whispered, stroking your hair and brushing it away from your face. 

“I love you.” You murmured as he finally pulled himself out of you and covered the both of you with the duvet. 

Reeling you in his arms, Joe pressed a soft kiss on your hair as you both tried to catch your breaths. You could barely open your eyes, and you could barely feel your legs as Joe held you close in his arms. 

You hummed softly, wrapping an arm around his torso and buried your face on his chest. 

“You’re… amazing.” You smiled. 

“Speak for yourself.” Joe chuckled softly.

The feeling of his fingers stroking your hair was making you sleepy, but you kept telling yourself to stay awake. To enjoy this moment with him. This moment that you literally been dreaming of. The conversation you had with Sara earlier had returned back into your mind, thinking about your feelings with Joe. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of being in love with Joe this whole time. The constant fights and arguments just so you could prove him wrong. The constant spark between the both of you that you kept ignoring because this whole time, you thought maybe Joe really just didn’t like you at all. 

It turned out to be the opposite. 

“I’m guilty of denying this spark between us.” You said, barely opening your eyes and gazing up at him. “I really thought you just hated me so much.”

“Hate you?” Joe smiled. “How could anyone hate you?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. 

“I’m sorry if I ever made you think that way. I overdo it sometimes.” Joe shook his head. “Seeing you blush… you have no idea what it does to me.”

“Hm…” You smiled, leaning up to kiss him softly. “Now, I do.”

Joe sat up on the bed, pulling you on his lap as you lay your head on his shoulder. You could barely move, feeling exhausted after what just happened.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, caressing your bare arm.

You shook your head and said, “Just tired.”

“Well, get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Joe smiled, kissing your head. 

Closing your eyes, you let sleep take over you, peacefully knowing that tomorrow Joe was going to be here next to you. No more dreams that made you feel guilty and created a knot in your stomach as you thought about it. 

This time, everything was real. 

And not only that, Joe loves you too. 

The End.

************

“Hey!” Joe grabbed your wrist. “Make your own.”

“Don’t be so selfish.” You teased him, pulling your wrist away from his grip before putting the handful of popcorn in your mouth.

Joe chuckled softly and shook his head as he grabbed a piece of popcorn and threw it at you. 

“See, now you’re just wasting food.” You rolled your eyes before reaching over to grab more. 

Joe threw his head back on the sofa and let out a sigh. You couldn’t help but chuckle softly as you focused your attention on the television. There was a comfortable silence between the both of you for a moment. 

“How was your night?” Joe finally asked. 

You shrugged, “It was okay.”

“I’m surprised you came home this early or that you came home at all.”

You side eyed him for a moment before shrugging again and stuffing your face with a handful of popcorn. He knew that you went out tonight with your friends, but you were also hoping that you would meet someone at the pub tonight. 

“Men are assholes.” You murmured. 

Joe couldn’t help but let out a laugh and moved himself a little closer to you and said, “Not all of them.”

You threw your head back on the sofa and turned your head to face him. His chocolate button eyes were sparkling as he gave you a playful smile. Joe was always like that. Even if you two had made an agreement that nothing would happen between the two of you, you still felt your heart beat out of your chest every time those eyes stared into yours. You both had one night of mistake—at least that was what you two had agreed on— and promised each other it wasn’t going to happen again. 

It was the beginning of the year last year, and you both got too drunk during New Year’s Eve, and you both didn’t even remember much of what happened. Again, that was what you told yourself at least. You didn’t know if Joe was lying too, or he truly didn’t remember it. You, however, remembered that night crystal clear, but you didn’t want anything weird between the two of you, so you told him that you didn’t remember anything. Since that night, you two agreed that you both just got too drunk and got carried away since both of you were single. 

That was all. 

But that didn’t mean that you couldn’t stop thinking about it. That didn’t mean that you were okay with it because you had told yourself many times to move on from it because Joe didn’t feel the same. However, you always found yourself pushing other men that you would meet at the pub because they weren’t like him. They weren’t Joe. 

God, you were pathetic. 

You needed to let go of these unrequited feelings. 

“Hmm…” You hummed softly, giving him a soft smile. “Oh, yeah? And is that one of them, you?”

Joe shrugged and just stared at you with a smile tugging on his lips. You let out a belly laugh as you stared at the ceiling. Letting your head rest on the sofa was making your head spin from the alcohol you had drank tonight, and you were sure Joe also had some considering the amount of beer bottles that were sitting on the coffee table. 

“Wanna go for a smoke?” Joe got up from the sofa, reaching his hand towards you. 

“Yeah, sure.” You took his hand in yours and followed him out the balcony. 

Lighting the cigarette, you leaned against the metal railing and stared at the starry night sky. It was quiet, and the streets were empty. It was almost so peaceful and unreal. 

“So, how come you haven’t met anyone that interested you?” Joe asked.

You didn’t know if you wanted him to press this subject because honestly at your state right now, you didn’t know if you could just stay cool and tell him some lame excuse as to why you weren’t so interested in anyone other than him. 

After letting out a puff of smoke, you shrugged again. “Like I said, men are assholes.”

Joe laughed, shaking his head. “Even I don't believe that. It has been months. You’re telling me they’re all assholes?”

You tilted your head, brows furrowing. “Why do you care so much? Is this what happens when you can’t sleep? You just get into everyone’s business?”

A playful smile tugged on your lips and Joe took a step forward towards you. His eyes studied you for a moment, and it only made your knees weak. You didn’t know what he was doing, but it definitely was making your insides turn. 

“I just care.” Joe murmured. “There’s no way a man would let you go that easily even if you refused them.”

“Well, they’re all assholes and cowards then.” You inhaled your cigarette one more time before finally putting it out. 

You chuckled softly and stared at the night sky for a moment. You didn’t have to look for you to realize that Joe was just staring at you. You didn’t want to turn and face him. You were too scared. You may have drank tonight, and your head was spinning, but you knew you were close to stepping over the line. 

“Well, what about you? Since you’re so interested in my personal life, how come you haven’t gone out there either? I’m sure all the girls are all over you since you’re so famous now.”

Joe laughed and said, “None interests me either.”

His answer sort of made your heart skip a beat. You were being way too vulnerable. At this point, you were telling yourself that you were being delusional for hoping that maybe Joe hasn’t dated anyone because maybe he felt the same. Walking back inside the flat, you grabbed yourself a bottle of beer, which probably wasn’t such a good idea and flopped yourself back on the sofa. 

“Hm… I guess I’m not the only picky one here.” You teased him, taking a sip of your beer. 

“Okay, so why are you so picky? What are you looking for in a guy?” Joe settled himself next to you on the sofa. 

You glanced up at the ceiling as you thought about his question. However, there wasn’t anything that was popping up in your mind because you already knew the answer. But you had to make some kind of excuse, right?

“I don’t know. Someone that doesn’t bore me to death.” You laughed. “What about you?”

Joe shrugged. “Not sure, honestly. I haven’t thought about that.”

You raised your brow at him. You may be lying to him, but he definitely wasn’t a good liar when it came to his excuses. 

“You’re such a liar!” You laughed, taking a piece of popcorn and throwing it at him. 

“Me? You’re the one who couldn’t answer my question too.” Joe laughed.

You grabbed more popcorn as you flicked more towards him, making his jaw drop in shock. Laughters echoed in the living room as Joe tried to defend himself, but you were at this point just making a mess in the living room.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Joe laughed, trying to use the throw pillow as a shield. 

He then grabbed you by the wrists gently as you stared into each other’s eyes. You felt your heart beating so fast that it was roaring in your ears. You stared at Joe’s chest that was also heaving as he moved closer to you. You felt the air between the two of you shift, and you knew that you were about to cross the line. 

“Joe…” You whispered as he gently brushed a strand of hair away from your face. 

“Am I part of your asshole list?” He asked, and you immediately shook your head so fast that your mind was spinning for a moment. 

“Never.” You replied, voice so low. 

You could feel your hands tremble as your eyes stared at Joe’s lips. His fingers slowly grazed your cheek before letting his thumb traced the outline of your lips. It sparked something inside of you, and you couldn’t explain what it was. All you knew was that the alcohol was running through your veins, and Joe being this close to you was electrifying every bone of your body. 

“Good.” Joe murmured. “Because you were right. I am a liar.”

You bit your bottom lip as you held in your smile. 

“Oh?” You raised your brow at him, your eyes suddenly staring down at both of your hands. “How so?”

You played with his fingers that were on your lap. You couldn’t bear to look at him. You knew if you did, you wouldn’t know what to do. 

“Because you’re the only one that I can’t stop thinking about.” Joe admitted. 

The surprised look on your eyes immediately caught his. You had too much alcohol, but you knew you weren’t dreaming, right? Joe actually told you that. 

“W…What?” Your voice stuttered. 

Joe softly brushed his thumb on your cheek, his face inches from yours. You could feel his trembling breath as he grazed his nose against yours. Closing your eyes, you could feel the oxygen leave your lungs. Your heart couldn’t fit in your chest anymore, and you kept telling yourself that this was a dream. That you would wake up, and Joe wouldn’t be here anymore. 

Was the alcohol getting in your head right now? How many drinks did you have tonight? 

“Maybe I’m… I’m a liar too.” You whispered. 

“I know.” Joe grinned before pressing his lips against yours. 

A small gasp escaped your lips, and your body was paralyzed for a moment. You didn’t know what to do, but as soon as you felt his soft lips move with yours, you couldn’t help but slide your fingers through his hair and pull him close. It felt like a dream, but you knew it was real. Joe’s hands found your hips as he held on to them and pulled you on his lap. A soft hum escaped your lips as you hovered over Joe, tugging on his hair slightly. 

“Joe…” You whispered, pulling away from the kiss breathlessly. “Are you sure about this?”

“A hundred percent.” Joe kissed you hungrily and desperately as he gently laid you on the sofa, his lips finding your neck. 

Stars exploded at the back of your eyes as you felt Joe’s lips against your skin. Every kiss he left was making your skin on fire, and you never knew you wanted this so bad until now. Pulling away, Joe stared down at you for a moment and smiled. His fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead. 

“Are you sure you won’t regret this like last time?” You asked.

“Darling, I never regretted it the first time.” Joe grinned before getting up from the sofa.

Taking you in his arms, you let out a squeal as he carried you down the hall and into his bedroom. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you kissed him again. Kicking the door closed behind him, Joe gently laid you down on his bed. 

Staring into his chocolate button eyes, you knew you weren't going to regret it either because you never did in the first place. This time, you wouldn’t lie about how you felt too because this was everything.

All of this was everything.

The End.

*************

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As if he hadn't just fucked you against the kitchen counter and you'd had to go clean his leaking cum from yourself. But he'd found whatever he was looking for and had thrown himself down on the sofa, legs spread wide as per usual, flicked through the document and then asked if you wanted to order takeout.

And so you'd ordered from your favourite Chinese place, the same place you'd ordered from most weekends before… well… before everything had changed and Eddie had come steamrollering into your lives. You watched a movie, you leaned your head on his shoulder as he told you about his latest trip and where he'd be going next. He made no comment about where the two of you stood now after that argument, after what had happened. And you didn't ask. So you continued as if your ass hadn't been bouncing on that counter an hour ago.

And you ignored your phone with the frequent messages, because you knew it was Hannah and you didn't want to get into it with her right now, you wanted to stay in this bubble of pretending everything between you and Joe was okay.

And then you'd gone to bed, just the way you always had done. Brushed your teeth, climbed into bed, he'd slipped in behind you with an arm around your waist and within minutes he was snoring against your ear, while you were lying there having an internal breakdown with that one 'WHAT DOES IT MEAN' TikTok sound playing in your head until you'd fallen asleep.

The birds were chirping when you awoke, you yawned sleepily not wanting to open your eyes in the harsh light of the morning. Flashbacks of the previous night came back to you and you felt like you'd been doused in cold water. Especially when you realised you couldn't feel a warmth next to you on the bed. "Joey?" Your gravelly morning voice muttered, reaching out but you only felt cold sheets where his body should be.

You sat up, palming your eyes with the heels of your hands, wiping away sleep with your heart beating a mile a minute. You're not sure what you were expecting, or what you'd wanted when you'd fallen asleep last night, but hadn't been this. It hadn't been him gone.

You throw the warm covers off of your body and slip out of bed, your bare feet touching cold hardwood floor. You're half expecting to find him in the kitchen, concentrating on some eggs in a pan just like in the old days, but there was no sign of him in the main room of the flat either and silence coming from the direction of the bathroom.

You look to the doorway, where he'd toed his shoes off and left that suitcase last night.

Catching a midsized wave, you popped up to your feet and quickly found your balance, riding the wave successfully to the end for the first time.  Pride swept through you and you threw your arms up, crowing loudly, giddy laughter spilling from your lips as Tom let out a proud whistle.

“That’s my girl!” he cried, a wide grin stretching his face.

Floating near the shallows, you sat, straddling your board as you watched Tom catch the next larger wave.  He looked so confident, so at ease when he surfed, and you just hoped that with practice, you’d be just as good some day.

After nearly an hour of being out on the water, the sun having already passed its zenith, Tom paddled over to you, grabbing the edge of your board as he sat up, holding you close so you wouldn’t float apart as you talked.  

“It’s gettin’ late, what d’ya say we head back in and make some dinner?”

“Yeah, alright,” you agreed reluctantly.  “Can I catch one more wave first?” you asked, spying a good one coming up.

Tom grinned at your eagerness.  “Yeah fine.  One more,” he relented, letting go of your board to let you paddle out.

“Hey!  Don’t go out too far!” he called after you, but the wind carried his warning away.

Paddling out further than you had yet, you caught the wave, wobbling slightly as you popped up, and for one triumphant moment you were cutting across the swell, the next, you were falling.

You hit the water hard, your board flying in the opposite direction, and for one dizzying moment, you tumbled through the water, losing track of which direction was up.  Panic seared through your veins until finally you glimpsed faint daylight shimmering down through the water.

Reoriented, you kicked frantically for the surface, gasping for air as soon as your head broke the choppy water only for a wave to crash over you, buffeting you as you fought for breath.  Tossed by the current, you tried to cry for Tom, only to splutter as seawater filled your mouth and nose, leaving you coughing.

Fear washed over you with the waves as tears blurred your vision, and you managed to gulp down a lungful of air before the current pulled you under.  Each second you fought to break free of the undertow, your muscles only weakened, burning like the burn in your chest as you ran out of oxygen.

Unable to hold it any longer, you instinctively gasped for breath, even though you knew there was none, and as the water rushed into your lungs, your vision went black.

“No no no!  Fuck, c’mon!”  

Tom’s voice was sharp, frantic, but muffled, as if you were hearing it through water.  He sobbed your name and there was a rhythmic pressure against your chest before his lips covered yours and suddenly air filled your lungs.

Your eyes snapped open as a coughing fit wracked you and you rolled to your side, expelling the salt water from your system, gulping down air as if it were the best thing you had ever tasted.

Beside you, Tom let out a sob of relief and hastily scrubbed the tears from his eyes.  “I told you not to go out that far!” he cried, his voice wavering in a way that had your stomach knotting with guilt, his large brown eyes filled with anger and fear, but mostly relief.

“I know, I’m sorry!” you exclaimed weakly, throwing your arms around his neck.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again!” he breathed, wrapping you tight in his arms, his voice breaking.  “If anything were t’happen to you–  I don’t know what I’d–”

Before he could finish, you silenced him with a kiss, and for a split second you were afraid he might be cross with you, until he kissed you back just as fervently, a moan catching in his throat.

Fueled by the leftover adrenaline in your system, a wild flame of need seared through you, burning you from the inside out, and your kisses turned bruising—a desperate clash of teeth and tongues—your desire reflected in Tom’s haste to free you of your bikini bottoms.

Luckily, the beach was empty, because in that moment of frenzied desperation, neither of you cared if you were alone or not, your awareness blinded by mindless desire.  And as Tom pressed into you, swallowing your broken moan, the burn of the sudden intrusion soon melted to a pleasant ache as he began to move in you, his pace quickening as you rolled your hips to meet his thrusts, pulling him deeper.

As your pleasure swiftly crested, a thick syrupy warmth suffused you, spreading outward, and your kisses turned sloppy as Tom’s thrusts grew jerky, until you were merely panting heavily into each other’s mouths as you fell apart together.  All at once, your muscles went taut, clamping down around him, and Tom groaned, his hips stuttering as he filled you, your name on his tongue as his head fell forward, his brow pressing to yours.

“Oh God, I love you.  I love ya so fuckin’ much,” he exclaimed, finally stilling, though still clutching you tightly, your body yet twitching beneath him with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“I love you too,” you gasped, kissing him breathlessly, the adrenaline finally leaching from you, leaving you boneless and exhausted.

When Tom felt you shiver in his arms, reality shifted back into place and he looked up, suddenly very aware of where you were.

“Oh shit–” he hissed, bleating a relieved laugh when it was evident the coast was clear and you were still alone.  “I can’t believe we just did that,” he gasped, his kiss-swollen lips tugging into an incredulous grin as he quickly tucked himself away and covered you with his towel.

“Me either,” you admitted, though you couldn’t keep from smiling as well.  “You saved my life, it’s the least I could do to repay you,” you joked, taking his face between your hands to steal a kiss, and Tom let out a grunt.

“If you really wanna repay me, you can do it by never doin’ that shit again,” he huffed, his brows furrowing.

“I won’t.  I promise,” you assured him and his expression softened.

“Good,” he quipped, pressing one last peck to your lips before standing and hoisting you into his arms, careful to keep you covered with the towel.  “Now, what d’ya say we wash this sand off and I make us some dinner before I spend the rest of the night holding you?” he asked, his brows raising expectantly.

“I think that sounds absolutely perfect,” you replied, letting your head rest against his shoulder.