🪷

“Alright,” Steve said, pulling his arms tightly together. “Then it’s decided. Tomorrow, the girls will each wear an article of El and Max’s clothing to throw off the Demodogs.”

“They seem to be gunning for the two of them,” Dustin continued. “El for, well, obvious reasons. And Max, because she has dodged Vecna’s curse like, a thousand times. We add some of their blood to make the scent stronger, and some of Nancy and Robin’s to theirs, so the scent is thrown off. Sound good?”

“Yeah, I love being live bait,” Robin says sarcastically, scanning over to you and Nancy.

Nancy just nods in agreement before looking down at you on the couch. 

“What about Will?” You ask, nodding over to the next room. He sat with his back to the group, eyes staring out the window ahead, headphones tight around his head. “Won’t their connection just immediately give this whole plan away?”

Jonathan sighs and closes the door, “He won’t be coming with us. He’s gonna stay at the squawk with my mom and Lucas in case Vecna’s spying. He won’t even be in communication with us.”

You nod once, flashing him a quick sympathetic smile. 

“Alright!” Dustin claps his hands together. “Meet at Lover’s Lake gate sunrise tomorrow.”

The room filled with the sound of shifting bodies and tired sighs as everyone slowly stood from their spots around the Byers' living room.

Robin immediately groaned. “Awesome. Another sunrise meetup. Love that for us.”

“You complain every single time,” Steve muttered, grabbing his car keys off the coffee table.

“Because every single time we almost die, Steve.”

“Fair.”

Nancy was already gathering scattered papers from the table, slipping them into her bag with practiced efficiency. Jonathan disappeared toward the kitchen, mumbling something about coffee, while Dustin launched himself into explaining some other part of the plan to Mike for the third time that night.

You pushed yourself up from the couch slowly, exhaustion heavy in your bones. And unfortunately, your eyes caught Eddie’s from across the room.

He stood near the hallway entrance, arms crossed tightly over his chest, fingers tapping nervously against his forearm. His eyes flicked over you for barely a second before looking away just as quickly. Still couldn’t look at each other normally.

Cool. Normal. Totally fine.

You moved first, grabbing your jacket off the arm of the couch. “I’m gonna head out.”

“I’ll walk you,” Nancy offered immediately.

Before you could answer, Eddie suddenly pushed himself off the wall.

“I got it.”

The room went weirdly quiet for half a second. Robin’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline while Steve looked physically exhausted by the tension.

You stared at Eddie. “I think I can make it to the front door alone.”

“Wasn’t saying you couldn’t,” he muttered.

God. There it was, that sharp edge the two of you had been dancing around for months now.

Nancy glanced between the two of you carefully before stepping back. “Okay then.”

You brushed past Eddie toward the door, hearing his boots follow a second later.

The cold night air hit immediately once the front door opened, damp and sharp against your skin. Crickets buzzed faintly somewhere in the distance while the porch light flickered overhead.

You descended the steps first, and Eddie lingered behind you awkwardly.

“You really think this plan’s gonna work?” you asked quietly.

Eddie shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Nope.”

You huffed out a laugh despite yourself, and his mouth twitched faintly at the sound.

“But,” he added, softer, “it’s the best shot we got.”

You hated how easy it still was to stand beside him. Hated how your body still recognized him instantly. The smell of cigarettes and leather and that stupid cologne you bought him lingered in the cold air between you.

“You should probably get some sleep,” he said finally.

You glanced over at him. “You too.”

There was a moment of hesitation between you, then Eddie rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, curls falling into his face.

“Listen, about tomorrow—”

“We’ll figure it out. Night,” you said quickly, opening your car door and closing it just as fast. 

“Night,” he muttered to himself, tapping the hood of your car once. 

The Upside Down always felt wrong immediately.

The air was thicker here. Wet, heavy with rot and ash and something metallic that clung to the back of your throat every time you breathed too deeply.

The sky stretched above the group in angry shades of red and black lightning, spores drifting lazily through the air like toxic snow, every step squelching beneath your boots.

“God,” Robin muttered, pulling the sleeves of Max’s sweatshirt farther over her hands. “I seriously forgot how much this place smells like a dead animal’s asshole.”

“That is… unbelievably specific,” Nancy replied.

“It’s accurate, though.”

Steve ignored them, flashlight tucked beneath his arm as he unfolded the rough map Jonathan had drawn the night before.

“Alright, listen up.” Everyone slowly gathered closer.

“The crawlspace splits about a mile ahead,” Steve continued. “We cover more ground if we break into pairs.”

“Cool,” Robin nodded. “Dibs on not dying.”

Steve pointed around the group. “Nancy, you’re with Johnathan. Robin, you’re with Dustin and me—” He paused briefly. “Eddie, you and...”

“No.”

The answer left your mouth immediately. Sharp enough that even the distant growls echoing through the Upside Down suddenly felt quieter. Eddie’s head turned toward you instantly.

Steve blinked. “What?”

“I said no.”

You adjusted the shotgun strap harsher than necessary across your shoulder before looking anywhere except Eddie.

“What about Nancy?” you asked. “I’ll go with her.”

Steve shook his head immediately. “Nope. Both sharpshooters can’t be together.”

“Robin then.”

“Also no,” he replied. “You and Robin both have El's blood scent on you. Two El's means a dead giveaway.”

You clenched your jaw. Of course, there was a reason for everything; of course, it made sense. But still...

“No,” you repeated more quietly this time.

Steve sighed heavily like a tired father of six. “Seriously?”

You finally looked at Eddie, and big mistake. Because he looked just as frustrated as you felt, maybe even a little more exhausted from the situation than you were.

“Jesus Christ,” Robin whispered under her breath. “They’re divorced.”

“We were never married,” you snapped instantly.

“Yet,” Dustin mumbled.

You whipped around. “Whatever. Come on, Dustin.”

The kid blinked. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me.”

“Uh—”

“Dustin. Let’s go.”

Your voice cracked through the air hard enough that nearby spores trembled slightly as you shoved past the group toward the forest line. Dustin looked between you and Eddie like a hostage negotiator trying not to die.

Steve slowly lifted both hands. “Hey, Henderson?”

“Yeah?”

“I wouldn’t argue with an angry girl holding a shotgun.”

Dustin nodded immediately. “Excellent point.”

“Seriously?” Eddie muttered.

Dustin pointed apologetically at himself before jogging after you. “Sorry, man! Self-preservation!”

Robin watched the two of you disappear into the foggy tree line before glancing sideways at Eddie. “…So how bad was the breakup exactly?”

Eddie stared after you quietly for a long moment. “Bad enough,” he said finally, “that she’d rather walk into monster-infested hell with a fifteen-year-old.”

The three of them moved carefully through the wreckage of downtown Hawkins, flashlights cutting through the thick haze drifting between abandoned cars and crumbling storefronts.

Somewhere in the distance, something screeched. Robin immediately tightened her grip on the flare gun in her hands.

“Mm. Hate that sound. Really hate that sound.”

“Pretty sure that’s the point,” Steve muttered from the front.

Store signs flickered weakly overhead, vines pulsing slowly up the sides of buildings like veins beneath skin.

Eddie barely noticed any of it. Because every few seconds, his eyes kept drifting back toward the tree line where you and Dustin had disappeared twenty minutes ago.

“You know,” she said casually, “if you stare any harder, I think you might actually burn a hole right through the fog.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

“No, seriously,” Steve added. “It’s getting pathetic.”

“I’m literally just walking.”

“You basically broke your neck turning around five seconds ago.”

Eddie scoffed softly and adjusted the strap of the spear against his shoulder. “She’s fine.”

Steve hummed knowingly. “Uh huh.”

The group ducked beneath a collapsed power line before continuing down the street.

Robin glanced between the two boys. “Wait, hold on. I actually don’t know what happened between you two.”

Eddie groaned immediately. “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, come on,” she said. “We’re in hell dimension therapy hour. Spill.”

Eddie kept walking.

“Munson.”

“No.”

“Eddie.”

He sighed dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. “It was stupid.”

“That means it was definitely your fault,” Robin replied instantly.

“One-hundred percent,” Steve nodded.

Eddie shot both of them a glare before finally relenting. “Chrissy needed a ride home after a game one night.”

Robin blinked. “That’s it?”

“I didn’t tell her beforehand,” Eddie admitted.

Steve already looked exhausted. “Oh, my God.”

“I was going to!”

“But you didn’t,” Robin pointed out.

Eddie groaned louder. “Okay, yes, thank you, I gathered that much.”

Steve shoved aside a hanging vine as they entered the shell of an old grocery store. “So she saw you?”

“Yeah.”

Robin winced. “Oh, that’s brutal.”

“It wasn’t even like that,” Eddie argued quietly. “Chrissy was upset. Jason was being a dick. I just drove her home.”

“But from her perspective?” Steve replied. “Her boyfriend disappears for half the night with the prettiest girl in school.”

Eddie looked genuinely offended. “Why does everyone keep calling Chrissy the prettiest girl in school? That's not even half-accurate.”

Robin deadpanned. "Oh."

“You still love her,” Steve said it casually, like he was commenting on the weather.

Eddie kept his eyes ahead, flashlight shaking faintly in his grip. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Kinda does when you look one bad day away from throwing up every time she talks to another guy.”

Eddie let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, well. She’s still pissed.”

Steve crawled up beside him slightly. “Did you ever actually apologize?”

“Shut up,” Eddie snapped, ears turning red beneath his curls.

Robin gasped dramatically. “Wait, wait, wait— is that why she’s so pissed? Because she thinks something happened with Chrissy?”

Eddie’s expression tightened slightly. Because yeah, that was part of it. But not all of it, not the real part.

The real part was that instead of fighting harder for you, instead of explaining, instead of chasing after you when you stormed away crying…He let you go.

And he’d regretted it every single day since.

Meanwhile, somewhere deeper in the woods of the Upside Down, you and Dustin trudged through layers of ash and rotting vines in tense silence. Well, mostly tense silence. Because Dustin physically could not stop talking if he tried.

“I’m just saying,” he continued carefully, trying to keep up with your pace, “from an outside perspective, I really don’t think Eddie cheated on you.”

You climbed over a fallen tree branch without looking at him. “Congratulations.”

“I’m serious!”

“Dustin.”

“No, because you weren’t there after, okay? He was literally miserable.”

You snorted softly. “Please.”

“I’m not kidding!” Dustin insisted. “The guy looked like someone kicked his puppy for, like… three months straight.”

“That’s dramatic.”

“He started listening to sad music.”

You glanced back at him dryly. “He already listens to sad music.”

“Okay, fair.”

Dustin ducked beneath a low-hanging vine before continuing. “But seriously, he didn’t do anything with Chrissy.”

You tightened your grip around the shotgun because it still stung hearing her name, even now. Especially now. Because logically? You knew Eddie probably hadn’t cheated. But emotionally, that night still replayed in your head perfectly.

Waiting for him, watching the clock, then seeing his van pull into the trailer park with Chrissy Cunningham in the passenger seat, laughing at something he said. And Eddie, sweet, oblivious, Eddie, looking happier with her than he had with you in weeks.

“You didn’t see them,” you muttered quietly.

Dustin sighed. “I saw him after.”

“That doesn’t change anything.”

“It should.”

You stopped walking suddenly, sending Dustin nearly crashing into your back.

“You know what the worst part was?” you asked, voice strangely calm.

The spores drifting through the air caught in your hair as you turned toward him.

“I would’ve understood if he just told me.”

Dustin’s expression softened slightly. “He always thought you were too good for him,” he admitted quietly.

That one hit harder than you expected, because yeah. You knew that already, too. Knew it every time Eddie got weird when boys looked at you too long. Every time he joked about you “slumming it” with him. Every time, he acted as if your love for him had an expiration date.

Your chest tightened unpleasantly, but before you could answer, something screeched in the distance. Both of you froze instantly.

Dustin’s face paled. “Uh…” Another screech, but closer this time. Wet. Animalistic.

You slowly lifted the shotgun. The woods around you suddenly felt very, very quiet. Then, movement, fast shadows darting between the trees. One. Two. Three—

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Dustin whispered.

Demodogs, at least five of them. Their slick bodies slithered between the vines surrounding you both, snarling lowly as their flower-like mouths slowly opened.

You grabbed Dustin’s jacket instantly, shoving him backward. “Run.”

“You know what your problem is?” Steve asked as the three of them pushed through the hollow remains of Family Video.

Eddie sighed heavily. “Please enlighten me, Harrington.”

“You think if you screw something up once, that’s it.”

Robin nodded immediately. “Oh my God, yes. That’s exactly his problem.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “You two done psychoanalyzing me?”

“No,” Steve replied simply.

They stepped over collapsed shelves, boots crunching through broken VHS tapes scattered across the floor. Outside, thunder rumbled through the red sky.

Steve adjusted the nail bat over his shoulder before glancing back at Eddie again. “So...did you ever actually apologize?”

Eddie’s jaw tightened. “…Not really.”

Robin looked horrified. “EDDIE.”

“What?” he defended instantly. “Things got heated!”

“She cried and dumped you, and you just let her walk away!” Robin whisper-yelled.

Eddie scrubbed both hands down his face in frustration. “I didn’t know what to say!”

Steve laughed dryly. “Well, there’s your first issue.”

“I figured if she wanted to talk to me, she would’ve.”

Robin stared at him for a long moment. “Men are genuinely stupid.”

Eddie ignored her. “She looked at me like she hated me.”

“Because she was hurt,” Robin shot back. “There’s a difference.”

Eddie went quiet at that, because deep down? He knew. Knew every sharp comment and glare from you over the last few months felt more like woundedness than hatred.

Steve slowed slightly, expression softening just a bit. “Dude.”

Eddie glanced over.

“When this is over…” Steve shrugged. “Just apologize.”

Robin pointed at him enthusiastically. “YES. Exactly. Thank you.”

“Like a real apology,” Steve continued. “Not one of your weird little jokes where you deflect halfway through.”

“I don’t do that.”

“You absolutely do that,” Robin replied.

Eddie opened his mouth to argue, but static suddenly exploded through Steve’s walkie. All three of them froze instantly. A burst of panicked breathing crackled through the speaker. Then:

“STEVE?!” Dustin, terrified.

Steve grabbed the walkie immediately. “Dustin? What happened?”

More static, heavy footsteps, and your voice somewhere in the background, shouting something muffled. Then Dustin again:

“There’s— Jesus Christ— there’s like FIVE OF THEM!” A deafening screech echoed through the radio.

Robin’s face went white instantly. “Oh, my God.”

“We’re headed east through the woods!” Dustin yelled breathlessly. “They’re right behind us!”

Steve already started moving. “Stay moving. We’re coming to you.”

The radio crackled violently. Then your voice cut through this time, sharp and panicked.

“Dustin RUN!”

Eddie’s stomach dropped instantly. A loud gunshot exploded through the walkie. Then another, then static.

Branches snapped violently beneath your boots as you and Dustin tore through the woods.

The Upside Down blurred around you in flashes of red lightning and black vines, spores whipping through the air every time you shoved past another rotting tree. Behind you, there was screeching.

“LEFT!” Dustin yelled breathlessly.

You grabbed the back of his jacket, yanking him sideways just as a Demodog launched from the trees where he’d been standing half a second before. It hit the ground hard with a wet snarl. You spun instantly:

BOOM!

The shotgun blast echoed through the forest, the flare shell exploding directly into the creature’s chest. Fire burst outward, orange flames illuminating the dark woods as the Demodog shrieked and convulsed on the ground.

“Holy shit!” Dustin yelled.

“No time!” you shouted back. “MOVE!”

The two of you sprinted again. Your lungs burned as another screech split the air, then another. Then three more answered.

Dustin looked back once and immediately paled. “Oh, that is SO many.”

Shapes darted through the fog behind you. Fast, crawling over trees and vines with horrifying speed. One leaped from the side, and you reacted instantly, grabbing Dustin by the shoulders and throwing him down as the creature flew over both your heads.

You hit the ground hard beside him. The Demodog spun immediately, flower-mouth peeling open with a shriek. Dustin scrambled backward, fumbling desperately inside his bag.

“SHIT! SHIT! SHIT—”

The creature lunged, and a Molotov cocktail smashed against its face, fire erupting instantly. The thing screamed horribly, thrashing against the dirt while Dustin stared wide-eyed at the flaming bottle in his hand.

“…That was awesome.”

“Dustin!”

“RIGHT. MOVING!”

You hauled him upright again just as another creature burst from the trees, then another, and another.

Your stomach dropped. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

Because behind the Demodogs, towering above them in the fog…Demogorgons; at least two. Their massive silhouettes moved slowly through the trees, petals twitching open as they tracked the scent of blood soaking into the girls’ borrowed clothes.

“Okay,” Dustin said faintly. “I officially hate this plan.”

One of the Demodogs lunged. Boom. Another flare shell exploded through its jaw. The recoil nearly knocked your shoulder backward as you kept firing. One. Two. Three blasts. Fire illuminated snapping teeth and writhing vines while Dustin hurled another Molotov into the pack.

Glass shattered, and flames erupted across the forest floor. Still, more kept coming.

“Why are there SO MANY?!” Dustin yelled.

“I don’t know!”

A Demodog tackled you from the side before you could reload. You hit the ground hard enough to lose the shotgun entirely. The creature screeched directly in your face, claws slashing wildly as you shoved against its throat desperately, its teeth snapped inches from your face.

“GET OFF!”

You grabbed the knife from your belt and drove it upward into the creature’s neck. Black blood sprayed across your hands as the thing convulsed violently before collapsing on top of you. For one horrible second, you couldn’t breathe.

Then Dustin was there immediately, dragging the body off you. “COME ON!”

The trees ahead suddenly exploded with flashlight beams. Voices.

“THIS WAY!”

Steve. Robin. And then, your heart betrayed you instantly at the sound of his voice. He yelled for you, panicked and terrified; closer now. You turned toward the sound just as one of the Demogorgons burst through the trees.

“LOOK OUT!” Dustin screamed. You barely had time to move.

One massive claw swung forward, and white-hot pain exploded across your side. The force sent you flying backward violently into the dirt.

For a second, everything went silent. No sound. No air. Nothing.

Then warmth poured down your waist, and your hands instinctively grabbed at your sides. Blood, so much blood. Somewhere nearby, Dustin was screaming your name.

And across the clearing, Eddie stopped dead. Because you were on the ground, not moving.

“OH MY GOD—” Dustin’s voice cracked somewhere nearby as the others charged into the clearing.

Steve and Robin immediately started firing at the creatures still circling through the trees, gunshots and screeches echoing violently through the forest while flames spread across the ground from the broken Molotovs.

But Eddie? Eddie only saw you.

Blood soaked through your shirt in horrifying amounts, spilling between your fingers where you clutched desperately at your side. Your breathing came in sharp, uneven breaths against the dirt beneath you.

His stomach dropped so hard it physically hurt. “No no no no—”

He was beside you instantly, collapsing to his knees hard enough to draw blood. Your eyes fluttered toward him hazily, still conscious. Thank fucking God.

“Hey,” he breathed shakily. “Hey, stay with me, alright?”

You grimaced as another cough wracked through your body. Blood splattered across your chin, and Eddie visibly went pale.

“Jesus Christ,” Robin whispered somewhere behind him.

You sucked in a painful breath, immediately trying to push yourself upright. “I’m fine.”

Eddie stared at you in disbelief. “Are you insane?”

“I can still move.”

“You are literally coughing up blood!”

Another wet cough interrupted you immediately, like your body itself was trying to prove his point. You glared weakly at him afterward anyway.

“Don’t,” you rasped.

“Don’t what?”

“Look at me like that.”

Eddie’s face crumpled for half a second before he could stop it. Like that.

Like he was terrified, like seeing you hurt was physically ripping him apart from the inside out.

The sounds of fighting still echoed around the clearing. Steve yelling. Gunshots. Demogorgons screeching somewhere deeper in the woods.

But Eddie barely registered any of it as he pressed, shaking hands harder against the wound in your side. Blood immediately soaked through to his palms.

“You need pressure on this,” he said quickly, voice uneven. “Can you hold this?”

“I can walk.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

“You got launched ten feet through the air!”

You tried to sit up again anyway, and immediately regretted it. Pain tore through your side hard enough that a broken sound escaped your throat before you could stop it.

Eddie caught you before you could fall back completely, one arm wrapping around your shoulders carefully.

“There she is,” he whispered shakily. “That’s the stubborn girl I know.”

You clenched your jaw hard, humiliated tears burning behind your eyes. Not now, you refused to cry right now.

“I’m not dying in front of you,” you muttered weakly.

Something about that sentence completely shattered whatever composure Eddie had left. His eyes went glossy instantly.

“Hey,” he said softly, almost pleading. “Hey, don’t talk like that.”

Another scream echoed through the woods. Steve suddenly appeared beside them, blood splattered across his bat. “We need to move. Now.”

“Can she walk?” Robin asked urgently.

You opened your mouth immediately. “Yes.”

“No,” Eddie answered at the exact same time.

“I said I can—”

The second you tried to move again, your entire body folded from the pain, and a horrible gasp tore from your chest. And Eddie finally snapped.

“Jesus Christ, would you stop trying to be tough for five seconds?!”

The clearing went quiet for a second, and even you looked startled. Eddie’s breathing shook violently as he stared down at you, terrified and furious and heartbroken all at once.

“Please.”

That one word hurt worse than the injury. Before you could argue again, Eddie slid one arm beneath your knees and the other around your back.

You instinctively grabbed onto his jacket as he lifted you carefully against his chest. Pain exploded through your side immediately, making you gasp sharply into his shoulder.

“I know,” he whispered quickly. “I know, sweetheart, I got you.”

Sweetheart, your eyes shut briefly at the nickname, because he hadn’t called you that in months.

Eddie adjusted his grip tighter around you before looking toward the others. “Move.”

Nancy’s house in the Upside Down looked even worse from the inside.

The wallpaper peeled in blackened strips from the walls, vines crawling through cracks in the ceiling while spores drifted lazily through the stale air. The entire place creaked softly around them as if it were breathing.

Steve slammed the front door shut behind them while Robin shoved an overturned bookshelf against it.

“Are they following us?” she asked breathlessly.

“I don’t know,” Steve answered. “I don’t hear them.”

Eddie barely registered the conversation. The second they got inside, he lowered you carefully onto the couch and immediately dropped to his knees in front of you again. Your blood stained almost everything now.

The couch. His hands. Your shirt. The floor beneath your boots. It just kept coming.

“Okay,” Robin said quickly, trying to stay calm. “Okay, okay. Nancy keeps medical supplies upstairs, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded immediately. “Bathroom closet.”

The two of them disappeared upstairs instantly. Dustin crouched nearby, frantic fingers fumbling with his walkie.

“Nancy? Jonathan? Come in!” Static answered him.

Your breathing hitched painfully again, and Eddie’s head snapped back toward you immediately.

“Stay with me,” he whispered.

You leaned weakly against the couch cushions, face pale beneath the layer of grime and blood smeared across your skin. Every breath looked harder than the last. Still, you forced out a weak, sarcastic smile.

“Pretty sure… this ruins the mission.”

Eddie let out something halfway between a laugh and a broken sound. “Yeah,” he choked out. “Yeah, sweetheart, kinda.”

Your eyes flicked toward the blood covering his hands, then back to him. He looked terrified, like absolutely terrified.

And it hit you suddenly that Eddie Munson looked like he was watching the worst thing that had ever happened to him unfold in real time.

“You can stop looking at me like I’m dying,” you muttered weakly.

The second the words left your mouth, Eddie’s face crumpled completely. “No,” he whispered instantly. Your chest ached at the sound.

Eddie pressed both shaking hands harder against the wound in your side, trying desperately to slow the bleeding.

“You can hate me later,” he said shakily. “Just don’t leave me first.”

Something in your expression broke, because he sounded serious. His eyes glistened under the dim flickering light, curls stuck damply against his forehead, while blood soaked through his rings and sleeves.

And suddenly, all you could think about was Dustin’s voice earlier.

"He always thought you were too good for him."

Your vision blurred slightly. “Eddie…”

“Don’t,” he interrupted immediately, voice cracking. “Please don’t do the thing where people start talking all soft because they think they’re dying, okay? I can’t—”

His breath hitched sharply. Then…Oh. Oh God. Eddie was crying.

Not loud or dramatic, just silent tears slipping down his face while he tried desperately to keep pressure against your side.

You weakly grabbed at his wrist. Instantly, his other hand wrapped around yours.

“I’m here,” he whispered quickly. “I’m here.”

Upstairs, cabinets slammed open while Robin shouted something about peroxide. Dustin was still trying the walkies. But for a second, the rest of the world faded out entirely. It was just Eddie, holding your hand like letting go would kill you.

Your thumb brushed weakly across his knuckles.

“I don’t hate you,” you admitted quietly.

Eddie froze. His watery eyes snapped up to yours so fast it almost hurt to look at. “What?”

You swallowed painfully. “I tried to,” you whispered. “But I don’t.”

Eddie stared at you like the words physically knocked the air from his lungs. Then suddenly, the house went strangely quiet.

Dustin slowly lowered the walkie. “…Wait.”

Steve reappeared at the top of the stairs with Robin right behind him, carrying supplies.

“What?” Robin asked.

Dustin frowned toward the windows. “Do you guys hear that?”

Everyone went still, and there was nothing. No screeching. No snarling. No pounding footsteps outside. The Demodogs were gone.

Steve moved cautiously toward the window, peeling back the curtain slightly. “…Holy shit.”

“What?” Eddie snapped immediately without taking his eyes off you.

Steve looked back slowly. “They stopped.”

Robin blinked. “Stopped what?”

“Following us.”

Everyone went quiet, then Dustin’s eyes widened. “Oh shit.”

Robin looked at him. “‘Oh shit’, what?”

Dustin pointed toward you carefully. “The blood.”

Eddie frowned slightly, and then realization hit all at once. The creatures weren’t tracking El’s scent anymore, not Max’s either. Your blood threw them back to tracking the real deal. 

“Oh, that is dark,” Robin muttered quietly.

Steve looked back out the window one more time before letting the curtain fall shut again. “Doesn’t matter. We still gotta move.”

Eddie’s head snapped up immediately. “She can’t move.”

As if on cue, another painful cough tore through your chest. Blood stained the corner of your mouth again, and Eddie visibly flinched.

Robin quickly knelt beside the couch with the medical supplies, hands moving fast as she peeled back the blood-soaked fabric around your side.

“…Oh.”

Steve’s face tightened instantly. “Bad?”

Robin looked a little pale now, too. “Very.”

You glanced downward weakly. Honestly, you kinda wished you hadn’t.

The slash across your side was deep, way deeper than you originally thought. Blackened blood smeared across torn skin while the edges of the wound pulsed faintly with Upside Down spores and grime.

Robin pressed fresh gauze against it carefully, and you hissed sharply through your teeth.

“Sorry,” she muttered quickly.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not,” Eddie said immediately, everyone turning to look at him.

He was still kneeling in front of you, one hand locked tightly around yours like he physically couldn’t let go. And somehow he still looked angry at himself, like this was his fault too.

Steve crouched beside Dustin near the walkie.

“We need everyone back here. Now.”

Dustin nodded immediately, adjusting the frequency with shaky hands. “Nancy, Jonathan, Mike— anybody copy?”

Static crackled loudly, then Jonathan’s voice finally pushed through.

“Dustin?”

“Get back to Wheeler’s house now,” Steve ordered quickly. “We have a situation.”

“What happened?”

Steve hesitated briefly, but Eddie didn’t. “She’s hurt.”

Jonathan swore immediately. “How bad?”

Nobody answered fast enough, and that was answer enough. Dustin swallowed hard before grabbing the walkie again. “Guys, seriously, we need everyone here now.”

Robin kept trying to wrap the wound tighter, but every fresh layer of bandages turned red almost instantly. Steve’s expression shifted subtly from worried to straight-up scared.

“Hey,” he said carefully, crouching closer to you now. “Stay with us, okay?”

You let out a weak laugh. “Everybody keeps saying that.”

“Because you look like shit,” Robin replied automatically.

“Robin,” Steve hissed.

“What? I’m motivating her.”

Your eyelids suddenly felt heavy, and your head tipped slightly against the couch cushions.

Instantly, Eddie tightened his grip on your hand. “Hey.”

“I’m awake.”

“No sleeping.”

“I’m literally just resting my eyes.”

“Absolutely not.”

You would’ve laughed if breathing didn’t hurt so badly. Robin exchanged a quick glance with Steve. Then, he stood abruptly.

“We’re getting out of here.”

Eddie looked up sharply. “What?”

“She needs a hospital.”

“In the real world,” Robin added quickly. “Like yesterday.”

Steve nodded toward the ceiling. “Nearest gate’s at the trailer park. We move fast, we can make it.”

“And if the Demogorgons come back?” Dustin asked nervously.

Steve tightened his grip around the nail bat. “Then we fight.”

Eddie looked back down at you again. You looked exhausted now; blood loss had drained almost all the color from your face.

“Okay,” he whispered shakily. “Okay, we’re moving.”

Then softer, mostly to himself as he brushed blood-matted hair carefully from your face, “You’re not dying here.”

The trip back to the trailer park was brutal; every movement hurt. Every step Eddie took with you in his arms jolted painfully through your side, forcing weak gasps from your throat, no matter how hard you tried to hide them.

“You still with me?” he asked quietly after a while.

You hummed weakly against his shoulder.

“Words, sweetheart.”

“…Unfortunately.”

That earned the tiniest huff of laughter from him. Good. You liked hearing him laugh, even now.

Especially now.

The trailer park gates finally came into view ahead through the fog, and relief instantly loosened the group.

“We’re close,” Steve called quietly. “Gate’s right up—”

A screech exploded overhead, and everyone froze. Eddie’s entire body locked up beneath you instantly. Because he knew that sound, all too well. Demobats.

Robin looked upward first. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

The sky above them suddenly erupted with movement. Dark shapes poured through the red clouds in violent shrieking swarms. Dozens, maybe more.

“No, no, no,” Dustin whispered.

Eddie visibly went pale; you could feel it immediately. The way his arms tightened around you, the way his breathing changed to sharp, uneven, panicked. Because last time, these things nearly killed him.

“MOVE!” Steve shouted.

The swarm dove all at once, and chaos erupted instantly. Robin started firing upward while Steve swung the bat wildly at the creatures swooping down around them. Dustin hurled another Molotov skyward, flames bursting violently across the dark sky.

Still, more kept coming. One of the bats shrieked directly beside Eddie’s head. He ducked sharply, nearly dropping you. Another latched briefly onto his jacket, and suddenly he wasn’t here anymore, not fully.

Your stomach twisted painfully as you watched it happen in real time. The fear. The memory. His eyes looked exactly like they had that night in the Upside Down trailer. Terrified. Overwhelmed.

A bat swooped downward fast. 

“EDDIE!” you shouted weakly. Too late.

The creature slammed directly into him, and the impact knocked both of you sideways violently, causing you to slip from his grasp. Pain exploded through your body as you hit the ground hard, tumbling through ash and dead vines.

Your vision blurred immediately, and everything spun. For one horrible second, you almost blacked out. Then you heard Eddie release an agonizing scream. Your head snapped upward weakly.

The bats swarmed him instantly, exactly like before. Clawing. Shrieking. Dragging him toward the ground while Steve and Robin tried desperately to fight them off. And suddenly, you weren’t in the present Upside Down anymore. You were back there, watching Eddie nearly die.

Watching him bleed out while everyone screamed. Watching his body go limp in your arms. No, absolutely fucking not.

Adrenaline slammed through your body so violently it almost made you nauseous.

You forced yourself upward with a broken gasp, fingers scrambling desperately through the dirt until they found the shotgun lying nearby. Your side screamed in protest, but it didn’t matter. You cocked the gun shakily.

One of the bats wrapped around Eddie’s throat while another clawed at his back. His eyes met yours across the chaos, terrified. And that? That did it.

BOOM

The flare shell exploded directly into the swarm, and fire erupted violently across the sky. Shrieking filled the air as the Demo-bats ignited all at once, peeling away from Eddie in flaming screeches. Another shot, then another.

Explosions of orange fire illuminated the dark woods around you while burning creatures dropped from the sky one after another.

Steve grabbed Eddie immediately, hauling him backward. “MOVE MOVE MOVE!”

Robin ran toward you instantly. “Jesus Christ!”

Your arms finally gave out. The shotgun slipped from your fingers as the adrenaline vanished just as quickly as it came. Everything tilted sideways, and Eddie reached you before you hit the ground again.

His hands grabbed your face carefully. “Hey,” he breathed frantically. “Hey, hey, hey, look at me.”

Your vision blurred around the edges, but you still managed the weakest smile.

“Told you,” you whispered faintly. “Not letting you die.” Eddie looked absolutely wrecked by that sentence.

The first thing you noticed was the beeping, soft and steady. Then the smell of antiseptic hit next, clean hospital air replacing the rot and ash of the Upside Down.

Your body felt heavy and warm, and pain throbbed dully through your side the second you tried to move.

A small sound escaped your throat before you could stop it. Immediately, a chair scraped harshly beside you.

“Hey.”

Your eyes blinked open slowly. Hospital room. Dim lighting. And Eddie, kneeling beside your bed so fast it almost looked like he hadn’t moved in hours. Because honestly? He probably hadn’t.

His curls were a mess, dark circles bruised beneath his eyes, while dried scratches still marked his neck and jaw from the bats. One of his hands clutched yours tightly enough to hurt a little.

“Oh, thank God,” he breathed shakily.

Your throat felt raw. “You look terrible.”

A watery laugh escaped him instantly. “Thanks.”

You smiled weakly. Eddie immediately leaned forward in the chair, still gripping your hand like he thought you might disappear if he let go.

“You scared the absolute shit out of me,” he admitted quietly.

“How long was I out?”

“Day and a half.”

Your eyebrows lifted weakly. “Seriously?”

“Mhm.”

“Wow. Kinda dramatic of me.”

Eddie let out another broken laugh, but this one dissolved quickly. You glanced down at your intertwined hands, noticing how he still hadn’t let go.

“…You stayed?”

Eddie looked almost offended. “Obviously, I stayed.”

Something warm twisted painfully in your chest. You swallowed carefully. “The others okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded quickly. “Everyone’s okay. Couple scratches, Henderson won’t stop bragging about his Molotovs, Robin cried for like twenty minutes after you passed out—”

“Robin cried?”

“She threatened Steve when he laughed about it, too.”

That earned a small laugh out of you. God, he’d missed that sound.

Eddie stared at you for a second too long afterward, like he was making sure you were real, and alive.

His expression slowly crumbled again. “Listen,” he started quietly.

You already knew from his tone that this was gonna hurt. Eddie rubbed shakily at his eyes with his free hand before looking back at you.

“I am so sorry.”

Your chest tightened immediately.

“I should’ve told you about Chrissy,” he continued, voice uneven now. “I should’ve explained, and I should’ve come after you that night instead of letting you walk away.”

Tears burned visibly in his eyes again. “But honestly?” He laughed weakly at himself. “I think I was just waiting for you to realize you were too good for me.”

Your face softened instantly. “Eddie—”

“No, let me say it.” His voice cracked slightly. “Because I need you to know.”

His thumb brushed carefully across your knuckles.

“You are the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my life,” he whispered shakily. “Like… stupid beautiful. And smart, and funny, and everybody loves you, and I just kept thinking eventually you’d wake up and realize you didn’t wanna be stuck with some freak in a trailer forever.”

Your eyes immediately stung.

“And then when you saw me with Chrissy…” He swallowed hard. “I don’t know. Part of me almost figured maybe this was it. Like maybe I finally ruined the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Silence filled the room softly. Then finally, “You idiot.”

Eddie blinked, and you squeezed his hand weakly. “I never cared about any of that.”

His face crumpled all over again. “I know that now,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry too.”

Eddie frowned immediately. “For what?”

“I should’ve listened.”

“No, sweetheart—”

“I was hurt,” you admitted softly. “But I think part of me already knew you didn’t cheat.”

Eddie’s eyes went glossy again instantly.

You sighed weakly. “You’re too obsessed with me to cheat on me.”

That startled a laugh out of him so suddenly he actually snorted. 

“Well, yeah,” he whispered again.

You smiled faintly. Then after a small pause, “So…” you murmured. “What now?”

Eddie looked at you carefully, like he was scared to answer wrong.

Then slowly, he brought your hand carefully to his lips and pressed the softest kiss against your knuckles.

“Whatever you want,” he whispered.

Your heart melted a little. “…I think,” you admitted quietly, “I’d like my boyfriend back.”

Eddie actually stopped breathing. “You mean that?”

You nodded once, and that was all it took.

Eddie surged forward carefully, terrified of hurting you, one hand cradling your face while he kissed you like he’d been dying to do it for months.

Soft at first, shaky. Then emotional enough that you felt tears hit your cheeks before realizing they were his. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“I love you,” he whispered immediately. “Like, embarrassingly bad.”

You laughed softly. “I love you too, you idiot.”

Neither of you noticed the door cracking open. At least, not until:

“Oh, thank fucking God.”

You both startled apart immediately. Robin stood frozen in the doorway holding two vending machine coffees and an open bag of chips, staring at the two of you with pure exhausted relief on her face.

Behind her, Steve physically sagged against the doorframe.

“FINALLY,” he groaned dramatically. “Jesus Christ.”

Your face burned hot instantly while Eddie still hovered halfway over you, one hand on your waist. Robin pointed between the two of you accusingly. “Do you understand how insufferable you both have been?”

“Robin—” Eddie started.

“No. No, I’m serious.” She walked fully into the room now, setting the coffees down aggressively on the bedside table. “The sexual tension alone almost killed me before the interdimensional monsters even got the chance.”

Eddie groaned, dragging both hands down his face. “Can we have like… one emotional moment? Alone?”

“No,” Steve answered immediately.

Robin nodded. “Absolutely not.”

Then her expression softened slightly as she looked toward you lying in the hospital bed. “You scared the hell out of us, by the way.”

Your smile faded a little. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Steve said quickly, pushing off the doorway. “Just stop getting mauled by alternate dimension creatures. It’s becoming a weird habit in this group.”

“You first,” you shot back weakly.

Robin’s eyes flicked back and forth between you and Eddie again before narrowing suspiciously.

“So…” she dragged out slowly. “Are we all emotionally repaired now or what?”

Eddie looked toward you, and you smiled faintly before intertwining your fingers with his again.

Robin gasped dramatically. “OH, my GOD.”

Steve pointed immediately. “I knew it.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but he was smiling now, actually...no. More like beaming at the fact that your fingers were laced with his. 

THE END :D

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The van smells faintly like weed, leather, and something warmer that’s just simply, Eddie.

It’s parked crooked near the edge of Lovers Lake, tires half in the dirt, half on gravel, like he didn’t have the patience to line it up right before pulling you into whatever this night was supposed to be.

Fairy lights glow softly along the inside ceiling, tangled a little unevenly where you insisted they’d look “better imperfect,” and now they cast this golden, hazy light that feels like it belongs to a different world entirely.

Blankets are piled in the back, mismatched and soft, a couple of pillows shoved into the corner like an afterthought. It’s not fancy or polished, just something that is yours, together. 

You’re cross-legged on one side, knees brushing his thigh, passing the joint back and forth between slow conversation that doesn’t really have a direction.

The lake outside is dark and still, just a faint shimmer under the moonlight, and the only sounds are distant crickets and the quiet crackle of the lighter when Eddie relights the tip.

He exhales toward the ceiling, watching the smoke curl into the fairy lights. “Y’know,” he murmurs, voice a little slower now, a little softer, “this is... kinda perfect.”

You smile, leaning your head back against the van wall. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He turns his head, eyes lingering on you longer than necessary, like he’s studying something he’s not quite over yet.

“Got the lake, got the van… got you.” Then, quieter, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud, “Best part.”

There’s a warmth spreading through your chest that has nothing to do with the joint.

You take another drag, slower this time, feeling it settle behind your eyes, everything going just slightly floaty.

The world softens at the edges, and the lights blur a little. Eddie’s voice feels closer than it should, even though he hasn’t moved.

“You’re staring,” you tease, passing it back.

“Can you blame me?” he says immediately, like it’s obvious. His fingers brush yours when he takes it, and even that small contact makes your heart skip a beat. 

You laugh softly, but it fades into something quieter when he doesn’t look away.

There’s this moment where neither of you says anything. Just the hum of the night, the slow rhythm of breathing, the weightless feeling settling deeper into your limbs.

And then Eddie nudges your knee with his. “C’mon.”

“Where?”

He grins, a little crooked, a little mischievous. “Trust me.”

He hops out of the van first, nearly tripping over the door frame, which makes you laugh harder than it deserves. 

“Shut up,” he mutters, reaching back to help you down anyway, hands steadying your waist for just a second too long.

The air is cooler outside, brushing against your skin, grounding you just enough. The lake stretches out in front of you, quiet and inviting, the surface barely rippling.

Eddie gestures dramatically. “Your chariot awaits.”

You squint at the water. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh, I’m very serious.”

“It’s freezing.”

“Only for, like, a second,” he insists, already tugging off his jacket. “Then you go numb. Which is basically the same as warm if you don’t think about it too hard.”

“That is the worst logic I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, but it’s convincing, right?”

You hesitate for maybe half a second before laughing, shaking your head. “You’re insane.”

“And you love it.”

He’s already stepping out of his shoes, then his shirt, not in a show-off way, just… comfortable. The moonlight catches against his skin, all soft edges and familiar lines, and for a second, you just watch him.

“C’mon,” he says again, gentler this time.

There’s a brief pause where you consider your life choices, and then you follow.

The water is cold. You gasp the second it hits your ankles, grabbing onto his arm instinctively as you wade in, the chill climbing higher and higher until you’re half-laughing, half-protesting.

“Oh my god, Eddie—”

“I told you! One second!” he laughs, holding onto you as you adjust, his hands steady at your sides.

And then it levels out, somewhat. Not warm, but manageable. The kind of cold that wakes you up, that makes everything feel sharper and brighter.

You move deeper together, until the water laps at your shoulders, until the world feels distant and quiet, and just the two of you exist in it.

Eddie watches you, softer now. “You okay?”

You nod, pushing wet hair back from your face. “Yeah… yeah, I am.”

He smiles, something gentle and real.

For a while, you just float there, close enough that your arms brush, and your legs tangle under the surface. The lake carries you slowly, lazily, and the high wraps everything in this dreamy, almost surreal haze.

Then his hand finds yours. You turn toward him, and he’s already looking at you like that again. Like you’re something he’s trying to memorize.

“Hi,” he murmurs.

You laugh softly. “Hi.”

The kiss starts slowly and carefully, like he’s asking without saying it out loud. And you answer the same way.

It deepens gradually, naturally, his hand sliding from yours to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. The water shifts around you, rippling softly with every movement, every breath.

There’s nothing rushed about it, nothing demanding. Just warmth, despite the cold water. Just the quiet certainty of being wanted.

His forehead presses against yours when you finally pull back, both of you a little breathless, a little dazed.

“Still think it was a bad idea?” he whispers.

You shake your head, smiling. “No. I think you might’ve been right.”

He grins, soft and proud, and leans in again, slower this time.

The kiss lingers for a moment after you pull back, like neither of you is fully ready to let it end. Your foreheads stay pressed together, his breath against your lips, your hands still resting at his sides beneath the water.

And then his expression shifts. Not away from you, just his usual look, mischief creeping back in.

“Y’know,” he murmurs, thumb brushing along your waist, “for someone who was so against this idea…”

You narrow your eyes, already suspicious. “Eddie—”

He dunks you.

One second you’re looking at him, the next you’re gasping as cold water rushes over your shoulders and hair, your laughter bursting out before you can even be mad.

“Oh my god!” you sputter, shoving at his chest when you resurface. “You did not just—”

He’s already backing up, hands raised in surrender, grin wide and unapologetic. “Hey, hey! Scientific proof! Fully acclimated now!”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, smug, “but you’re smiling, so—”

You lunge for him. This time, he’s the one caught off guard, your hands pushing against his shoulders as you try to dunk him back, and he yelps, stumbling as the water splashes up around both of you.

“Whoa—okay—hey—!”

“Payback!” you laugh, clinging to him as he tries to twist away, both of you slipping and half-floating, half-tripping through the water.

He grabs your wrists, steadying you before you can both go under again, and suddenly you’re pressed close, laughing breathlessly, water dripping from your hair and down your face.

“You’re evil,” he says, shaking his head, but there’s no heat in it, just pure affection. “Absolute menace.”

“You started it.”

“And I regret nothing.”

You squint at him, trying to look serious, but it breaks the second he flicks water at your face with his fingers.

“Oh, it’s on,” you warn.

“Bring it.”

What follows is less of a fight and more of a disaster. Splashing, slipping, grabbing onto each other just to stay upright, both of you laughing so hard it’s impossible to keep track of who’s winning.

At one point, you manage to actually dunk him halfway, his hair going under and popping back up in messy curls, and the look on his face is so dramatically offended that you lose it completely.

“That was a low blow,” he says, pushing his hair back. “I trusted you.”

“You dunked me first!”

“Details.”

He reaches for you again, but this time it’s slower, less chaotic. His hands settle at your waist, steadying you as the laughter fades into something softer again.

You’re still smiling when you look at him. He’s already looking at you.

There’s a quiet shift, like the world narrows back down to just this space between you, the water gently moving around your bodies, your breathing slowly evening out.

His thumb traces along your side absentmindedly. “You’re… really pretty like this, y’know.”

You huff a quiet laugh. “Cold? Wet? Probably look like a drowned rat?"

“Nah,” he shakes his head, a little softer now. "Happy.”

You don’t have a comeback for that. Instead, you step a little closer, your hands finding his shoulders again, but this time there’s no attempt to push him under.

He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, a quiet, almost-kiss that lingers longer than necessary.

“You still freezing?” he murmurs.

“A little.”

“C’mon, then.”

This time, when he takes your hand, it’s not to pull you deeper. It’s to guide you back toward shore, fingers laced with yours, steady and warm despite everything.

You stumble a little getting out, both of you laughing again as the night air hits your skin, colder now in contrast.

Eddie’s quick to grab one of the blankets from the van, wrapping it around your shoulders before even thinking about himself.

“Here, here—sit,” he says, ushering you into the back like it’s second nature.

“And you?” you ask, watching him.

He shrugs, reaching for another blanket. “I’ll survive. Rock and roll, baby.”

You roll your eyes, but tug him down next to you anyway, wrapping part of yours around his shoulders so you’re both tucked in together.

“That’s cheating,” he mutters, but he doesn’t pull away.

“Shut up.”

He grins, settling in closer, arm sliding around you like it belongs there. Outside, the lake goes quiet again. Inside, under the fairy lights and the lingering buzz from the joint, everything feels warm.

The blankets are soft and a little scratchy in that well-loved way, but they hold the heat between your bodies quickly. Eddie’s arm stays looped around your shoulders, his fingers tracing lazy little circles against your damp skin through the fabric. 

The soft light overhead paints everything in warm gold and faint pink, turning the water droplets still clinging to your collarbones into tiny sparkling stars.

You’re both quiet for a minute, just breathing together, the high making every small touch feel electric and cushioned at the same time. His thumb brushes the edge of your jaw.

“You’re shivering,” he murmurs, voice low and a little raspy from the cold and the smoke.

“I’m okay,” you whisper back, but he’s already shifting, pulling you more fully into his lap so your chest presses against his. The blanket wraps around both of you like a cocoon.

Eddie’s free hand slides up your back, slow and careful, warming you with the broad heat of his palm. “C’mere, sweetheart. Let me fix that.”

He kisses you again: soft at first, then deeper, unhurried. His lips are still cool from the lake but warm quickly against yours.

There’s no rush in it, just the quiet sound of the kiss, the faint rustle of blankets, and the distant lap of water against the shore.

When he pulls back just enough to speak, his forehead rests against yours.

“Can I take care of you?” he asks, so gently it makes your chest ache.

His eyes are dark and warm, pupils blown wide. “Wanna make you feel good. That okay?”

You nod, biting your lip around a smile. “Yeah, Eddie. Please.”

He lets out a soft breath, almost a laugh, like he can’t believe how lucky he is. “That’s my girl.”

His hands move with deliberate care, peeling the damp blanket down just enough to expose your shoulders, your chest.

He kisses every new inch of skin he reveals: your collarbone, the center of your sternum, the soft swell of one breast, slow, open-mouthed presses that leave warmth blooming in their wake.

“Tell me if it’s too much or if you want me to stop, okay?” he murmurs against your skin. “We’ve got all night. No rush.”

You thread your fingers into his damp curls, nodding again. The weed and the cold have left you floaty and hypersensitive; every brush of his mouth feels like sparks.

Eddie shifts you both until you’re lying back on the pile of blankets, him hovering over you on his elbows so he doesn’t put too much weight on you.

He kisses down your stomach, slow and reverent, pausing to nuzzle his cheek against the soft skin just below your navel. “You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers. “Every part of you. Drives me crazy how much I love looking at you.”

When he reaches the top of your hib, he looks up at you through his lashes, curls falling messily around his face.

“Can I?” he asks, fingers already hooked gently at your skin.

“Yes,” you breathe.

He moves down with the same patience, kissing every new stretch of thigh he uncovers: inner knee, the sensitive skin just above it, higher, until he’s settled between your legs, broad shoulders keeping you open for him.

Eddie presses a soft kiss to the crease of your thigh, then another, like he’s savoring the moment. His breath is warm against your core when he finally speaks again, voice low and soothing.

“Just relax for me, okay? I’ve got you.”

The first slow lick makes your back arch, and a soft sound slips from your throat. Eddie hums in approval, the vibration traveling straight through you.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

He doesn’t dive in; he explores. Gentle, broad strokes of his tongue, learning exactly how you react to each motion. Every time your hips twitch, or your fingers tighten in his hair, he adjusts, listening.

“Right there?” he asks softly when he finds the spot that makes your breath hitch. “Yeah? Good. Gonna stay right here then.”

He’s relentless in the gentlest way; sucking softly, licking slow circles, occasionally pressing open-mouthed kisses like he’s making out with you. Between every few strokes, he talks you through it, voice muffled and warm against your skin.

“You’re doing so good for me… so fucking sweet… let me hear you, baby, don’t hold back.”

One of his hands slides up to lace his fingers with yours, squeezing gently. The other rests on your lower belly, thumb stroking soothing arcs, keeping you grounded while his mouth works you higher and higher.

When your thighs start to tremble around his ears, he doesn’t speed up. He stays steady, with perfect pressure and perfect rhythm.

“Close?” he whispers, lips brushing against you. You hum and nod, taking in one sharp inhale. "Yes."

“It’s okay. You can let go, I’m right here. I’ve got you. Come for me, sweetheart.”

The orgasm rolls through you slow and deep, like warm honey spreading through your veins.

Eddie keeps licking you through it, gentle and praising, murmuring soft little “that’s it… good girl… so pretty when you come” until you’re boneless and panting.

He kisses his way back up your body, slow and lazy, until he’s hovering over you again, lips shiny and smiling.

“Hi,” he says, the same way he did in the water.

You laugh breathlessly, pulling him down into a kiss so you can taste yourself on his tongue.

“Hi.”

Eddie settles between your thighs, not pressing in yet, just letting his weight rest warm and safe against you. His cock is hard and hot against your hip, but he makes no move to rush.

“You still with me?” he asks, brushing damp hair back from your forehead. “We can stop here if you want, sweetheart."

You shake your head no, wrapping your arms around his neck. "More. Please, Eddie."

He groans softly, forehead dropping to your shoulder for a second. “God, I love when you say please like that.”

He reaches down between you, guiding himself to your entrance with one hand while the other cradles the back of your head.

The head of his cock nudges against you, warm and slick from how wet he’s made you.

“Deep breath, baby,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Gonna go slow, tell me if it’s too much.”

He pushes in inch by careful inch, eyes locked on your face the whole time, watching every flicker of expression.

“Fuck,” he breathes, voice shaky with restraint. “You feel incredible. You're taking me so well, sweetheart.”

When he bottoms out, he stills, buried deep, holding you close while you both adjust. His lips brush your temple, your cheek, your mouth; soft, scattered kisses.

“Okay?” he whispers.

“Perfect,” you sigh.

Only then does he start moving, slow, rolling thrusts that feel more like rocking together than fucking. Every stroke drags deliciously, deep and intimate. He keeps his weight on his forearms so he can look at you, foreheads almost touching.

“Love you like this,” he murmurs between kisses. “My pretty girl… feels so good, baby. You’re taking me so good.”

His hand slides down to where you’re joined, thumb finding your clit in gentle circles that match the rhythm of his hips.

“Gonna make you come again,” he promises, voice low and sweet. “Want to feel it around me this time. Can you do that for me?”

You nod, already climbing again under his patient care. He never speeds up, never gets rough; just steady, deep, loving thrusts and that perfect pressure from his thumb.

When you come the second time, it’s even softer, a slow wave that pulls a quiet, broken moan from your throat. Eddie follows right after, burying his face in your neck as he spills inside you with a shaky groan of your name.

For a long time afterward, you just stay tangled together under the blankets, his weight a comforting blanket of its own.

He presses lazy kisses to your shoulder, your neck, wherever he can reach without moving too much.

“You okay?” he asks eventually, voice muffled and sleepy-satisfied.

“Better than okay,” you whisper, carding your fingers through his drying curls.

Eddie lifts his head just enough to smile at you: crooked, warm, completely in love. He then lets out a quiet huff of a laugh, like he’s still a little overwhelmed by you, by this, by everything that just happened.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, softer now.

He shifts just enough to pull the blanket back up over both of you properly, tucking it around your shoulders before settling back down, this time on his side so he can face you.

One arm stays draped over your waist, keeping you close, like he’s not fully convinced you won’t disappear if he lets go. You nuzzle yourself in more, head completely rested on his chest.

For a minute, neither of you says anything. Just the quiet hum of the lake outside and the faint buzz still lingering in your limbs.

“Think we killed the joint,” you mumble, voice lazy, words a little slower than usual.

Eddie snorts softly. “Tragic. Moment of silence.”

You huff a quiet laugh against his chest. “You’re so stupid.”

“Yeah,” he says easily, brushing his nose against yours, “but you’re still here.”

Your fingers drift up his arm, tracing along his tattoos absentmindedly. The lines blur a little under your touch, the lights making everything look softer, warmer.

“Best date ever?” you ask, barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t even hesitate.

“Best everything ever.”

You smile, pressing a small kiss to the corner of his mouth. He chases it, turning his head just enough to catch your lips properly, but this time it’s slow. Sleepy. Gentle in a completely different way than before.

His hand slides up your back again, slower now, fingertips barely grazing your skin in a way that makes you melt further into him.

“Y’know…” he murmurs, lips still brushing yours between words, “we should, like… do this again.”

You hum, amused. “Skinny dipping at midnight?”

“Yeah,” he says. “But next time, I bring towels. And, like actual snacks. Maybe a boombox. Really elevate the experience.”

You laugh softly. “Wow. So romantic.”

“I’m serious,” he insists, though he’s smiling. “Gonna make this a whole thing. Freezing our naked asses off in Lovers Lake? That’s us now.”

You tilt your head, studying him in the low light. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His thumb brushes along your cheek. “Got a good thing goin’. Not letting it go.”

You just lean in and kiss him again. He sighs into it, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, like this is exactly where he’s meant to be.

When you pull back, he rests his forehead against yours, eyes half-lidded, curls falling into his face.

“Stay with me a little longer?” he asks, voice softer now, almost shy underneath everything else.

You smile, nudging your nose against his.

“Wasn’t planning on leaving.”

“Good,” he whispers.

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You are currently in the shower, letting the cold water wash over you. The smell of your coconut scented bodywash surrounds the whole bathroom, the glass starting to fog because you switched to warm water. You closed your eyes, humming a soft tune while washing your body.

You suddenly got startled, feeling two strong yet soft arms gripping your body from the back. It was johnny, fully naked with his arms around you and his head resting on your shoulder. You felt his breathe against your neck, it was soft and warm, you heard him sigh. You tried to turn around and look at him, but he only held you tighter.

"Johnny, baby? Is everything okay?" You asked softly. He wasn't okay, you felt it, you immediately knew. His shoulders were slump, his mood was down, and he's holding you as if he doesn't want to let go. The water dripping on both of your bodies.

"Yeah...everything's okay." He whispers, soft yet tired. You know that voice, you know it better than most people. You held his hands that are wrapped around your waist, you softly turned around, facing him. And you were right, he's not okay even if he hides it. You cupped his cheek, flashing him a soft smile just to make him feel better.

"Wanna tell me about it, baby?" You asked, caressing his cheek while his hands remains on your waist, caressing it too.

"Mhmm... Later. Just wanna hold you right now. Want you close. Don't wanna lose you." His voice cracked, head down, and tears welling up in his eyes. He does not hold back any of his emotions when he's with you. With other people he does, he restricts himself, stops himself from showing too much, but with you he does not, he shows all of him the good and the bad.

"You won't lose me, never. Not today, not tomorrow, never." You assured him, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. You pushed his wet hair back, brushing your thumb on his cheek once more. "Johnny, i won't leave. Even if they drag me out, i won't leave. Even willingly, i won't do that. You got me, always, you always have me." You remind him, kissing his soft lips, he nodded before holding your face gently with his hand, he liften your chin up and his palm met your cheek again softly.

"Your eyes are really beautiful... Just by lookin' at them i feel better. I feel like there's always a tomorrow waiting for me." He whispers, eyes looking deeply at you, telling you how your presence alone reminds him of a brand new tomorrow. You chuckle under your breathe.

"Johnny, you have the prettiest eyes too. They also serve as a reminder, one look at your eyes I'm always at ease, at peace, and your love keeps me grounded, reminds me how beautiful your love is." He wasted no moment, connecting his lips with yours in a soft, gentle rhythm that shows how much he loves you. A testament of love between the two of you. Your lips danced into a slow and passionate rhythm, overflowing with emotions.

Johnny caresses your cheek softly while kissing you with nothing but love, with instinct you hooked your arms around his neck, palm on his nape to pull him closer. Your naked body pressed against his bare chest, the shower head showering you two in warm water, droplets of water going through your kiss.

"I love you so damn much. " How it rolled off Johnny's lips felt so natural, it felt so good. He didn't imagine himself falling in love, to have his person, a person who now shares his life and someone to call his own. Someone who keeps him grounded, not just to be with him through highs, but everything even the lows. You've been there for him through everything, you've been his anchor. Because the thing with johnny, he masks everything as long as he can, but with you, he can be himself, good days or bad days, he's himself with you. Sue was beyond thankful when you arrived in Johnny's life, telling you how much it means to her that you love johnny with everything you have.

"I love you, johnny. More than you know... " You kissed him again. He's the light in your life, he gave your life so much color. From darkness, he gave your life meaning. That being said, you two are like puzzle pieces that fit.

"Feel better, baby?" You asked him, panting, chasing for air. You smiled softly when he nodded.

"I do. I do feel a lot better, because of you." He smiled, the kind where it reached his ears. He brushed his thumb on your cheek before kissing it softly, then your forehead.

"There he is, my favorite smile. Glad you feel better, baby. " You whispered against him. "But, i can make you feel better. You trust me?" You asked softly, waiting for his answer. He nodded almost immediately.

"I trust you with my life, baby." He softly said, "trust you with my whole life." repeating it once more with a whisper. You slowly pushed him back, walking forward, he now walks backward until his back hits the wall. Your hand reached for him, for his cock which is visibly hard, veins angry and tip red, it's beautiful. You started stroking his cock, slowly and softly, earning a moan rolling past his lips.

"Oh shit, feels good... Baby." He pants, the way your hand wrapped around him, still not enough to hold all of him, he got harder, twitching on your hand. You felt it, the twitch, you smiled while stroking his hard cock. You locked your eyes with him, you tiptoed and kissed his lips softly.

"Yeah, baby, that good huh?" He nodded, biting his lips, controlling himself, slowly breaking in front of you while you're stroking his cock. The way your thumb brushed over his tip, it made him catch a breathe.

"Fuck, baby... " He moans, his voice surrounding the whole shower. His voice soft and rasped, looking at you with softened eyes, knit eyebrows from pleasure and parted lips. What a sight to see, you got wet just from that, your juices slowly dripping down your legs.

"Can you spit in my hand, baby? Please," You asked, eyes soft and eager. Johnny was hesitant, but by looking at you, at your pretty eyes, how can he say no. The way you asked, nipples perked from the cold, he didn't have the heart to say no. Your palm was open infront of his mouth, he did as he was told, he spit on your hands.

You lowered yourself, down to your knees infront of him. You stroked his cock, his own spit covering his cock. You kept stroking him with both hand, still it wasn't enough. Johnny looked down at you, sitting pretty against him. You looked at him with a smile, showing your dimples before taking him in your mouth, tasting the whole him. Your eyes rolled back while gliding your tongue on his cock, his cock half disappearing on your mouth because it was just too big. Johnny bit his lips, soft whimpers and groans leaving his lips.

"Fuck, baby... Your mouth feels so good... Feels good... " He whispers, groaning when he felt his tip crash against your throat, his cock buried deep inside your warm mouth. He released a loud groan, followed by your name leaving his lips, the sound enchoed in the whole bathroom. You wrapped your hands on the part of his cock that didn't fit your mouth, you stroked it while bobbing your head to suck him off. It was messy, filthy, but johnny finds you beautiful whatever you do. The sight of you kneeling infront of him, sucking him off, you look beautiful for him, even if spit was everywhere, tears on the corner of your eyes, you're beautiful.

You twirled your tongue on his tip, sucking on it, earning a loud gasp from Johnny from how sensitive it was. "Fuck, y/n! Baby... So good-" He leaned his head more against the wall, biting his lips when you increased your pace, the tip of his cock hitting your throat everytime. "Not gonna last, baby... Sh-shit!" His orgasm came fast, didn't even have the time to give you warning, the second his cock was buried deep in your throat he shot his loads, warm and hot deep in your throat. You wiped your mouth clean, johnny held you up softly.

"Fuck, baby you're amazing... So good to me, takin' care of me just like that." He kissed you, still soft even if he's eager. Just pure, no rush, just making love. "Let me take care of you now, okay? Will you let me, baby?" You nodded immediately.

"Good girl. Now jump for me, please." You did as you were told. You jumped and he immediately caught you, his arms right in your thighs. He switched positions with you, you're now against the wall, still in his arms. "There you go, good girl, my love." He presses a soft kiss on your lips. You felt his other hand letting go of you for a moment, lining his cock against your entrance.

"Relax for me, baby... " He whispers. "There we go, such a good girl." His tip slowly sinks in you, he held you firmly before adjusting your body properly.

"Johnny... " You moaned his name, almost like a whisper but for him, everytime you say his name, it's music.

"Yes, baby... Almost there, just a little more." He pushes his cock more into you, halfway there. He caught your lips, kissing you passionately as he pushes his cock fully in you. You gasped in between the kiss, "johnny... So big, so full... "

"I know, baby... I know, my love. We'll stay still for a moment, until you adjust." Johnny softly said, still thinking about you and your comfort. Your hand on his nape, tugging on his hair that drove him crazy, the way your fingers plays and tugs on his hair, that's heaven for him. He loves your fingers, you can do anything to him and he'd thank you.

"Move, johnny... Baby, you can move now." He nodded, forehead against yours. He started thrusting up to you. Your lips almost crashed with his from how close he was. You moaned, calling for his name and how he's making you feel so good. Johnny releases soft grunts, with every thrust he whispers your name like it's sacred, like it's the only thing he knows.

The way his cock explores inside you, deep inside you, hitting every place that sends you to a heaven filled with pleasure. How you closed your eyes shut, biting your lips, but whatever you do, his name rolls off your lips.

"Johnny... " You whimper. That's enough to drive him crazy, increasing his pace while still maintaining the softness, the delicate sex, no rush, just enjoying and making most of the moment in each other's arms. "Fuck, baby... Johnny, so good... " You whine, feeling his cock kiss your cervix with every thrust.

"Fuckin' love you, baby... Wouldn't trade this for an-anything. I want to come home to you everyday." He moaned, still keeping up with the momentum of his thrusts that sends you over the edge, too much pleasure, too much emotions, too much love, and you wouldn't want it any other way. Your fingers brushed his hair, breathing heavily, you can hear his heartbeat matching yours, like it's one.

"Johnny... " You whisper. "I'll always wait for you. You will always have a home waiting for you... Oh shit- you will always have a home in me, baby... Fuck-" You gasped, feeling him twitch inside you. You clenched around him too, squeezing him tight, leaving johnny a whimpering mess.

"Fuck- johnny, gotta cum... Almost there! Ahh shit-" You whined, wrapping your legs tighter on his waist, fingers clutching more onto his hair.

"Me too, baby... Almost there. Let's do it together, okay?" He rests his forehead on yours, you can feel his unsteady breathing, pants and groans. You moaned loud, your toes curled and your back arched that johnny had to hold you tightly just so you wouldn't fall. Your orgasm washed over you, releasing your cum all over his cock, making a mess on him. The aftermath washed over you, feeling tired and your head rests on his shoulder now.

"Fuck-" He cursed, his cock burried deep inside of you, shooting his thick and messy load deep inside of your cunt, letting your mixed orgasms trail down your legs. After a few minutes, He puts you down, holding you firmly because your legs are wobbly.

"I love you... " He whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead. Johnny shows you a smile, and you smiled back tired yet still genuine.

"I love you too, baby... " You whispered, followed by a yawn that made Johnny chuckle.

"Let me clean you up, baby. Don't have to worry about anything, I'm here." You nodded, almost half asleep that made johnny chuckle even more, placing another kiss on your forehead. He rinsed your body again with your favorite coconut bodywash, washing himself too.

He did your skincare for you, because he knows how much you value skincare, often telling him that you won't sleep without doing your routine. He doesn't want you to be upset that you missed a night of doing your routine, so he did it for you. He dressed you in his shirt, before tucking you in his bed. He finished wearing his pajama pants before completely joining you in the bed, wrapping his arms around you while your head lays on his chest.

It started with a phone call and a diaper bag.

Reed had explained, in his usual hyper-logical, overly detailed fashion, that he and Sue were finally—finally—going on their long-postponed couples weekend. Somewhere with minimal interference from unstable molecules and definitely no alien portals. Somewhere sunny and slow. Somewhere without Franklin.

“I packed four types of sunscreen,” Sue had added quickly over speakerphone. “He just started this weird nap schedule and he likes Daniel Tiger more than Bluey now—don’t mix them up or he’ll cry.”

Johnny had given a mock salute through the phone, arm draped lazily around your shoulder as you leaned into his bare chest on the couch. “Copy that, Cap’n. No Bluey. No fires. Baby safe. Marriage intact.”

“We’re not worried,” Reed had replied, even as his voice cracked slightly. “Well. Not that worried.”

Now, standing in the middle of the Baxter Building's penthouse kitchen, you were holding a squirming, wiggly two-year-old Franklin Richards against your hip like it was second nature. He was sticky-fingered and all cheeks and curls and absolutely attached to your left arm.

And Johnny Storm was watching you like you’d just hung the stars.

You caught him staring while you blew gently on a too-hot spoonful of oatmeal before guiding it toward Franklin’s waiting mouth. His eyes softened in that rare, heart-melting way that always got you—the Johnny Storm everyone thought was all fire and flirt and bravado, but who looked at you like you were his whole sky.

“What?” you asked, smiling around a mouthful of apple slices you were sneakily feeding yourself.

“Nothing,” Johnny said. “You just look good like this.”

“Like what?”

He nodded toward Franklin, who was now happily babbling between bites. “Like… momming.”

You snorted. “Momming is not a verb, Johnny.”

“Sure it is.” He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, shirt slightly wrinkled like he’d gotten dressed in a hurry after Franklin’s early wake-up call. His hair was slightly tousled and his grin was stupidly fond. “You're so good at it.”

Your cheeks warmed. “He’s two. He eats glue and sings about potty training. It’s not exactly rocket science.”

Johnny walked over, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Still. I mean… just sayin’.”

“Say it,” you teased.

He kissed your cheek. “You’re gonna be the best mom one day.”

You stilled.

He said it like a casual prophecy, like it had always been true. Your chest fluttered in a way that had nothing to do with the oatmeal or the scent of baby wipes and everything to do with the man behind you.

You turned your head to kiss him softly, just a brush of lips. “Only if you’re the dad.”

“Deal.”

Franklin, not one to be left out of any attention, squealed loudly. “Jo-Jo kiss!”

“Jo-Jo?” Johnny said, pulling back. “Since when am I Jo-Jo?”

“Since this morning,” you said, laughing as Franklin tried to climb you like a tree. “Get used to it, Jo-Jo.”

By noon, your apartment looked like a toddler tornado had touched down and never left.

Franklin’s nap had lasted exactly seventeen minutes, during which you and Johnny had stared at each other across the couch like soldiers in a war zone.

“Is it always that short?” Johnny whispered.

You shrugged, sipping coffee that had long gone cold. “Sometimes it’s shorter.”

The moment he’d stirred, Johnny had sprung up. “I got him!”

You heard giggling and the patter of feet, followed by your husband’s dramatic gasp. “Franklin Richards, are you in my sock drawer again?”

“Rocket!” came the shrieked reply.

He ran down the hall with one of Johnny’s red racing socks on his head like a crown.

“Aw, c’mon, man. That’s a limited edition!”

You tried not to laugh too hard as Johnny chased him, lifting Franklin upside down and spinning him in a circle until his giggles turned breathless.

You watched them from the kitchen doorway, hands on your hips.

Johnny caught your eye mid-spin, smiling like this was exactly where he was meant to be.

You were painting.

Correction: Franklin was painting. You were managing damage control.

He had two plastic smocks on, paintbrushes in both fists, and the table covered with a giant roll of brown craft paper. Johnny had even drawn flames on the edges, dramatically announcing it was “THE CANVAS OF DESTINY.”

“He has more paint on his face than the paper,” you observed, wiping a green smear off Franklin’s cheek.

Johnny crouched beside him. “That’s how you know he’s a real artist. Full-body expression.”

“I’m making mommy,” Franklin declared proudly, holding up a blob of swirly dark colors with a giant heart in the middle.

Your chest squeezed. “That’s me?”

“And daddy,” he added, pointing to a stick figure beside it. “Daddy’s loud.”

Johnny laughed. “Loud? What do you mean loud?”

Franklin just screamed in response.

Johnny turned to you. “I’ve never felt more seen.”

You giggled, crouching to kiss Franklin’s forehead. “It’s beautiful, baby. We’ll put it on the fridge.”

Johnny leaned in close again, brushing a speck of dried blue from your temple. “He thinks of us like his.”

“Maybe he always has,” you whispered.

There was a pause, one of those heavy silences that wasn’t sad—just full. Full of wonder. Full of maybe. Full of yes.

“I like it,” Johnny said finally. “The whole… parenthood preview.”

“You haven’t even changed a diaper yet,” you teased.

Johnny grinned. “Then I guess it’s time to check that off.”

It went… terribly.

Johnny had gloves, goggles, and a nose clip. You leaned against the doorway watching as Franklin kicked his legs in the air and laughed like it was the funniest show on Earth.

“You sure you got this?” you asked, hiding a smirk.

“I’m a superhero, baby. I fight aliens. I can handle—OH GOD IT’S EVERYWHERE—”

You doubled over laughing as he panicked, reaching for a wipe and somehow managing to get poop on his forearm.

“Why is it on my elbow? How did it migrate?!” he yelled.

Franklin was howling with laughter now, grabbing at Johnny’s hair.

Johnny looked up, defeated, wild-haired and slightly green. “I want it on record I’m doing this out of love.”

You winked. “Duly noted, Jo-Jo.”

That night, after bath time, story time, and three renditions of “Twinkle Twinkle,” Franklin was finally asleep in the guest room crib.

You and Johnny collapsed on the couch, your head on his chest, his arm around your shoulders, both of you smelling faintly of baby lotion and goldfish crackers.

“I’m exhausted,” you murmured.

“I’m in awe of Sue,” he said.

“Right?”

There was a beat of silence, the soft hum of the city beyond your windows.

“I really meant it, you know,” Johnny said suddenly, voice low. “You’d be the best mom.”

You looked up at him. “And you’d be the best dad.”

He reached over, brushing your hair back, fingers soft against your skin.

“We’d be good at it,” he said.

“We’d be chaos.”

“Sure. But cute chaos. Diapers and fruit snacks and tiny shoes.”

“And a Jo-Jo that changes poop with a hazmat suit.”

He laughed, pulling you closer. “I love you so much it scares me sometimes.”

You leaned up, kissing him slow. “I know. Me too.”

“I want that with you someday,” he whispered. “Kids. All of it.”

Your heart felt like it might explode.

“Then we’ll have it.”

Outside the door, a soft cry started up again.

Johnny groaned dramatically. “Round four?”

You smiled, already getting up. “He likes you best. Go show him the flaming nightlight trick.”

Johnny grinned, grabbing your hand. “Only for you, Mrs. Storm.”

Later, when Franklin was asleep again, and you and Johnny lay in bed tangled together, he whispered into your neck:

“Let’s have one. One day.”

You turned to face him in the dark, eyes meeting, fingers laced.

“One day soon,” you whispered back.

And that night, you both dreamed of the same future.

One full of little feet on tile floors, paint on walls, and a thousand mornings just like this one—messy and soft and full of laughter.

And love. So much love, it lit up the dark like fire.

A crackling beam of golden energy exploded from your hands, colliding with Ben and sending him skidding back, asphalt breaking under his weight. The crowd screamed.

"Hey!" Johnny zipped lower, fire trailing behind him. "Not cool!"

You turned, eyes blazing, and unleashed another burst at him. Johnny twirled midair, laughing. "Whoo! Okay, she's got good aim. I like her already."

Your answer was a sharp command in Tamaranean, voice ringing with authority. No one understood.

"Still no subtitles!" Johnny called, swooping down.

Reed tried to restrain you, stretching his arms around your wrists, but you twisted with inhuman strength and hurled him into the side of a bus. Sue's shield barely held against the next blast from your eyes, cracks spidering across the invisible wall.

"Reed, this isn't working!" Sue shouted.

Johnny landed in front of you, raising his hands. "Okay, hey—let's chill. Maybe we just... talk this out?"

You didn't understand. You grabbed him by the front of his suit and slammed him down hard enough to rattle his teeth. Flames sputtered against your grip as he struggled, staring up at you.

And then—you leaned down and pressed your lips against his.

The world froze.

Johnny's flames snuffed out in shock. Reed blinked from across the street. Ben muttered, "What the hell—" and Sue's jaw dropped.

You pulled back, eyes softening, and when you spoke again, the words came out in fluent English.

"Why are you attacking me?"

Johnny sat up, coughing, eyes wide. "Uh—wait, what?"

Reed's eyes widened. "She can speak English now."

Ben frowned. "How'd that happen?"

_______

The Baxter Building hummed with quiet energy, its sleek corridors lined with gleaming glass and metal. To you, though, it felt like stepping into a living machine. Every light, every panel, every beeping console was a mystery begging to be touched.

You padded barefoot across the floor, pausing every few steps to press a button or flip a switch. A lamp blinked on and off, on and off, making you jump each time.

"Light without fire," you whispered in awe, touching the bulb gingerly. "How does it burn without heat?"

"It's electricity," Reed answered absently, scribbling notes at his desk. "A current harnessed through filaments to—"

But you had already wandered away, crouching in front of the refrigerator. You tugged it open and gasped as cold air poured over your face. "Snow!" you exclaimed. "You have snow in a box!"

Johnny leaned against the counter, grinning. "That's a fridge. Keeps food fresh."

Your eyes darted over the shelves until they landed on a carton of milk. You picked it up, shook it, and peered through the plastic like it was a potion. "White liquid," you said with reverence. "What is its purpose?"

"Uh, that's milk," Johnny said, grabbing a glass. "You drink it."

Obediently, you took the glass he poured for you and gulped it down in one go. Your eyes watered instantly. "It tastes... strange. Thick. Like clouds that forgot how to float."

Johnny burst out laughing. "That is the weirdest review of milk I've ever heard."

You set the glass down carefully, nodding with determination. "I will try again until I like it. If it is important to Earth, I must learn."

"So about before," Johnny remarked looking down at you. "You were just speaking gibberish and now you're fluent English? How—how did you do that?"

Sue spoke next, her tone was careful. "Yes. You couldn't understand us before. What changed?"

You tilted your head, studying their puzzled faces like the answer was obvious. Your fingers touched your lips lightly, almost with pride.

"I... borrowed your words," you explained softly, your accent melodic. "On Tamaran, when we do not know another's tongue, we take it. From here." You tapped your mouth gently. "Through contact."

Johnny's eyes went wide. "Through... kissing?"

You blinked at him, trying the word out as if it were brand-new. "Kissing. Yes. That is what you call it." Your eyes flickered with faint golden light as you smiled, almost proud. "It was very effective. I understand all of you now."

Ben let out a low whistle. "Well, ain't that somethin'."

Johnny rubbed the back of his neck, still rattled. "Yeah, uh—just so you know, that's not... the normal way we do things around here."

Your brow furrowed, confusion softening your glowing features. "It is not?" You looked genuinely curious. "But how do your people learn new words, then? If not by sharing breath and thought through mouths?"

Reed's eyes lit up with scientific curiosity. "Fascinating. A direct linguistic transfer through physical contact. The process must be neurochemical in nature—"

Johnny cut him off, flustered. "Okay, okay, science later. Can we just... acknowledge that I just got space-kissed by an alien who now speaks English? Because that's a lot to process."

You blinked innocently at him. "I did not harm you, did I?”

Johnny glanced at the faint scorch mark on his suit from when you slammed him down, then at your wide, earnest eyes. "...No. No, you're fine.”

"Good," you said with simple sincerity. "Then it worked."

Sue leaned on the counter, arms crossed but her expression soft. "Johnny, don't overwhelm her. She's adjusting."

"I'm helping!" Johnny protested. "I'm, like, cultural orientation. Way more fun than Reed's science lectures."

Reed glanced up with mild irritation. "She is a biological marvel. If she allows me a proper scan—"

But you were already pulling open a drawer and marveling at the cutlery. You picked up a fork and held it like a weapon. "Blades with many teeth," you murmured. "For battle?"

Johnny snatched it gently from your hand. "Uh, not exactly. That's for eating spaghetti."

You tilted your head, uncomprehending. "What is 'spaghetti'?"

Johnny grinned, tapping his temple. "Don't worry. I'll show you."

_____

A little later, you discovered Reed's TV. You sat cross-legged in front of the giant screen while Johnny flipped through channels with the remote.

"Moving paintings!" you gasped, eyes huge as a cartoon dog bounced across the screen. "They are alive, but trapped."

Johnny snorted. "That's called a cartoon."

"Cartoon," you repeated carefully, tilting your head. Then your face brightened. "I like cartoon."

He switched to a cooking show, then the news, then a soap opera. You gasped every time, clutching his sleeve. "So much knowledge! How do you choose what truth to believe?"

Johnny rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh... yeah, that's kind of a problem here too."

Sue poked her head in and sighed at the sight of you practically glued to the screen. "She's going to fry her brain before Reed even gets a chance to study her."

But Johnny just smirked. "Hey, it's called immersion learning."

You pointed at the soap opera characters kissing passionately on screen. "That," you said proudly, "is how you learn language."

Johnny nearly dropped the remote. "Uh—nope. That's... different. Whole different thing."

You frowned, confused. "But it looks the same."

Johnny groaned, burying his face in his hands while Sue laughed from the doorway.

_______

After the TV debacle, Johnny decided you needed something simple—something you couldn't possibly confuse.

"Okay," he said, tugging you toward the table. "Lesson one: Earth food that doesn't taste like sad clouds. Pizza."

You blinked at him as though he'd just declared himself king of the universe. "Pee-za?" you repeated carefully.

Ben carried a stack of pizza boxes, setting them down with a thud. "Hope you like food that doesn't explode," he said with a grin.

Sue placed plates and napkins around the table. "Try not to make a mess," she said gently, though her smile softened the warning.

Reed, sitting at the head of the table, adjusted his glasses. "Pizza is... simple. Low risk. You'll manage."

You climbed into a chair and leaned over the largest box, eyes wide. "It smells... alive."

Johnny laughed, opening the lid to reveal steaming slices. "Not alive. Just amazing."

You hesitated, picking up a slice. Strings of cheese stretched between your fingers and the box, making you giggle. "It fights me," you said.

"Just bite it," Johnny encouraged. "Trust me."

You did—and your entire face lit up. "It is... glorious!" you declared, mouth still full. "The flavors—they dance together! Fire and bread and... what is the red?"

"Tomato sauce," Ben said, taking a big bite himself.

"Tomato," you repeated reverently, like it was sacred. You took another enormous bite, humming happily. "Your world is strange... but it makes this."

Sue handed you a napkin, and you tilted your head. "Lesson two: napkins," she said softly.

"I will learn napkin," you replied, carefully wiping cheese from your lips.

Johnny leaned back, watching you with a grin that softened into something quieter. "Yeah. Not so bad, huh?"

Ben chuckled. "You're fitting right in already."

_____

That night, he took you up to the roof. The city unfolded below—miles of glittering lights, endless rivers of headlights crawling through the streets. You walked right to the edge, barefoot, hair tossing in the wind, staring down with wide eyes.

"It is so alive," you whispered. "Your world is loud, and bright, and it never rests."

"Yeah," Johnny said softly, standing beside you. "That's New York. The city that never sleeps."

You pointed to the massive billboards glowing above the streets. "Are those stars?"

Johnny laughed. "Nah. Those are ads. Like... fake stars trying to sell you junk."

You looked utterly baffled. "Why would stars sell things?"

Johnny opened his mouth, then shut it again, laughing helplessly. "Man, I don't even know where to start."

You turned to him, your face bathed in neon light. "Your world is confusing," you admitted. "But it is beautiful."

For once, Johnny didn't have a comeback. He just looked at you, and for a rare moment, the fire in him burned quiet.

"Yeah," he said finally, almost to himself. "Sometimes it really is."

"Johnny..." you said softly, looking up at him. "Fly... with me?"

He blinked, taken off guard. "Uh... you mean, like—right now?"

You nodded, a small, excited smile tugging at your lips. "Yes. Please."

Johnny grinned, flames flickering around his hands. "Alright... try to keep up."

Before you realized it, he shot upward into the night sky, and you followed instinctively. The wind whipped past you, and the city below shrank into ribbons of neon and moving headlights.

Johnny pointed toward the city lights. "See that? Empire State. Over there, Times Square—where you first landed. And way off that way, that's the river we were dodging drones over the other day."

You listened, eyes shining, occasionally leaning closer to him as if drawn by his presence.

For a heartbeat, you drifted a little too close to a building, caught in the thrill and wonder of the city. Johnny's hand shot to your waist instinctively, pulling you flush against him, keeping you steady midair.

Your chest pressed lightly against his back, and the sudden closeness sent a rush of warmth through both of you. You blinked, heart pounding, cheeks flushing. "...I... I did not see," you whispered, breathless.

He chuckled softly, his lips brushing near your ear as he steadied you. "Yeah... I got you. Don't worry."

You laughed nervously, still pressed to him. "...Thank... you."

You hovered together for a moment, the city lights reflecting in your eyes. Then slowly, deliberately, you relaxed against him, feeling the quiet intimacy of the moment—a shared heartbeat in the midst of the chaotic city below.

When you finally descended back to the roof, neither of you spoke immediately, just shared a small, lingering smile, knowing something unspoken had shifted between you.

"You okay?" Johnny finally asked, his voice softer than usual.

"Yes... I... I am" you said, brushing a hand across your hair, still flushed from the thrill and closeness.

Johnny smiled, ruffling your hair gently. "Good. Me too."

________

The Baxter Building had tall windows, and though you were told to stay inside, you often pressed your palms against the glass and peered down at the streets. People bustled below, completely unaware of you. Sometimes you wondered what they might think if they looked up and saw you staring back.

They did not wonder for long.

The first photograph appeared the next morning. Someone with a zoom lens had caught you on the rooftop with Johnny, the two of you silhouetted against the neon skyline. Headlines followed quickly:

"Fifth Member of the Fantastic Four?"

"Alien Girl or Publicity Stunt?"

"Who's the Mystery Woman With the Human Torch?"

Sue placed the newspaper flat on the kitchen table, her lips pressed thin. "It was only a matter of time," she said.

You looked down at the picture, utterly baffled. "How did they trap us inside paper? Is this magic?"

Reed rubbed his temple. "Photography. A chemical and digital process of capturing light."

You traced the grainy outline of yourself on the page, tilting your head. "I look... small. Flat. Like a shadow."

Johnny leaned over your shoulder, smirking. "Well, at least they got my good side."

You frowned. "They should not have taken us without asking."

"That's New York for you," Ben muttered. "Everyone's got a camera."

⸻

By afternoon, crowds had started to gather outside the building. From the window, you saw them—clusters of people pointing, snapping pictures, holding up homemade signs. Some signs welcomed you: We ♥ Alien Girl! Others were less kind: Go Home, Space Invader!

"They do not even know me," you whispered, pressing your hand to the glass. "Why do they love me... or hate me?"

Sue came to stand beside you, folding her arms gently. "People fear what they don't understand. And they're curious. You're new. Different."

You turned, eyes wide. "Is being different dangerous here?"

Johnny slipped in between you and the window, grinning in that easy way of his. "Nah. Being different is the only thing that makes this city fun."

That made you smile, even if your chest still felt heavy.

⸻

By evening, news vans parked along the curb. Bright lights flashed against the glass. Ted Koppel's face appeared on the television, announcing he'd be speaking with the Fantastic Four—and their mysterious new guest—in an exclusive interview.

Johnny flopped onto the couch, tossing a pillow into the air. "Well, guess we're going prime time."

You tilted your head. "Prime time?"

"Means the whole world's about to meet you," Sue explained softly.

Your eyes widened, childlike wonder mixing with sudden nerves. "The whole world? Through the moving paintings?"

Johnny grinned, giving you a mock-salute. "Yup. Welcome to Earth, star girl."

_____

The Baxter Building's living room had been turned into a makeshift dressing area. Bright lights, a few cameras resting on tripods, and piles of clothes everywhere.

You sat cross-legged on the couch, holding a suit that was far too stiff for your taste, tilting your head in puzzlement. "This... is clothing for ceremony?"

Johnny hovered above you, flames flickering nervously around his wrists. "Nah. Just... normal human clothes. Kinda fancy for humans who talk to cameras."

You examined the jacket like it might bite. "It is... heavy. And it smells like... metal?"

"That's just the fabric," Johnny said, grinning. "You'll survive. Trust me. Think of it as armor for social combat."

You tilted your head. "Social combat?"

Johnny flopped beside you, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. "Interview. Humans talk. Sometimes they ask tricky questions. You answer without... overwhelming them with lasers or kisses."

Your eyes went wide. "No kisses?"

Johnny nodded gravely. "No kisses. At least, not yet."

You touched your lips, looking puzzled. "But kissing... it is how I learn words. How I speak your tongue."

Johnny pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, "Yeah... that's why we're having this conversation."

Sue entered the room with a calm, reassuring smile. "Don't worry. Just be yourself. Speak clearly, take your time. We will help you."

You turned to him, eyes wide and innocent. "You will help me?"

Johnny grinned, ruffling your hair gently. "Yep. That's my job."

_______

The studio lights were blinding, casting long shadows across the stage as you and the Fantastic Four were led to your seats. You had your hands folded neatly in your lap, legs swinging slightly, eyes wide as you took in the audience's roaring applause.

"Do not be afraid," Sue whispered, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "They're excited to meet you."

You nodded, still unsure. "Excited? Or..."

Johnny leaned close, grinning. "Mostly excited.. Don't worry."

The host, Ted Ferguson, stepped forward, microphone in hand, flashing a practiced smile. "Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we have a very special guest: the newest member of the Fantastic Four—and an extraordinary visitor from another world."

Applause and cheers filled the studio. You shifted in your seat, feeling your cheeks warm. The sound was so much louder than you expected.

Ted turned to you. "So... tell us a little about yourself. Where are you from, and how did you end up on Earth?"

You straightened, clasping your hands together. "I am from Tamaran," you began, your voice soft but clear. "My home... was destroyed. I have been searching for a place to live, to belong. Earth is... beautiful, and I hoped it might be a place where I could stay."

The audience erupted in polite applause. You tilted your head at the sound. "Do they approve?" you whispered to Johnny.

Johnny leaned down, giving you a quick grin. "Yep. They like you. You're good."

Ted's brow quirked. "And... we hear you have a rather unusual way of learning languages?"

You nodded earnestly. "Yes. I must... touch mouths to learn words. To speak."

A ripple of laughter went through the audience. You frowned slightly, tilting your head.

Johnny covered his face, groaning. "Uh... don't worry about it. They just think it's... funny."

Ted, catching the cue, tapped his own lips jokingly. "So, do you want to learn a little Spanish?"

Your eyes lit up, wide and innocent. "I would love to."

Without thinking, you took a few eager steps forward, hands held out slightly, ready to follow the method you knew.

Johnny leapt in, blocking your path, placing a hand gently on you waist pushing you back to your seat. "Whoa, slow down."

Sue leaned toward the cameras, smiling warmly. "We haven't explained what 'joking' means to her."

The audience roared with laughter. You blinked, tilting your head. "is it a type of food?"

Johnny groaned, muttering under his breath, "Nope. Definitely not a type of food."

You looked back at him, eyes wide and earnest. "Then I must learn this... 'joke.' How?"

Johnny laughed despite himself. "One step at a time, One step at a time."

You settled back into your seat, still curious, still glowing faintly, still utterly human in your wonder—even as the whole world watched you.

_____

The cameras flashed like lightning as you stood stiffly in front of a Fantastic Four banner, arms crossed just as Sue had shown you. Johnny leaned against the backdrop with his trademark cocky grin, smoldering at the cameras like he was born for it.

You, on the other hand, were tilting your head with an uncertain smile.

"Am I... doing this correct?" you whispered.

Johnny leaned down, lips close to your ear. "Perfect. You look like a star already."

You blinked at him, confused. "I am not star. I am... person."

He laughed and straightened. "No, no. It means you look incredible. Trust me, everyone's eating this up."

When you beamed brightly at the cameras—truly, innocently—the photographers erupted in excitement. Johnny groaned. "Great. Now you're the fan favorite."

Later, magazine covers read: "Fantastic Five?" / "Alien Heroine: Friend or Threat?" / "Flame Meets Firepower: Sparks Fly Between Johnny Storm and the Newcomer."

Sue rolled her eyes when she saw the last one. Johnny smirked for hours.

_________

Against Puppet Master's creations, you flew beside Ben, blasting apart animated wooden soldiers. He grunted after smashing one to pieces.

"Not bad, kid. You're quicker than you look."

You beamed. "We make strong team."

Later, during a clash with Hydro-Man, you soared above his waves, unleashing beams of searing energy while Johnny boiled the water to steam. Reporters caught the moment when you and Johnny struck side by side, laughing breathlessly. Headlines the next day: "Dynamic Duo? Alien and Human Torch Heat Up the Fight!"

But not every battle went smoothly.

During a fight with the Wizard, you slowed midair, mesmerized by the neon lights glinting off a glass tower. Just for a heartbeat, you forgot the danger. That was all it took for one of the Wizard's drones to lock onto you.

"Watch it!" Johnny roared, flames bursting as he streaked across the sky. He wrapped an arm around your waist, spinning you out of the blast's path. The drone's energy bolt skimmed the air where you had been.

He hovered with you pressed to him, fire trailing off his shoulders as he glared down at the villain below. "You try that again, and I'll turn your toys into scrap metal!" His voice cracked with fury, but it wasn't at you—it was all for the Wizard.

You glanced up at him, startled, still feeling the heat of his arm steady at your side. "You... saved me."

Johnny looked down, his anger softening when he saw your wide eyes. "Yeah, of course I did." His thumb brushed your hip before he realized it and pulled his hand back slowly, though not completely. "Just... don't drift off on me like that, okay? Just stay close."

Your cheeks warmed, and you nodded, quieter than usual. "...I'll stay close."

"Good," Johnny said, smirking faintly, though his voice carried more relief than teasing. He let you go gently, flames trailing as he turned back toward the fight. "Now, let's roast this guy."

Ben's voice rumbled through the comms, amused. "Well, looks like Torch's priorities are clear."

You pretended not to hear—but you didn't drift far from Johnny again.

_______

"Hold still," Reed muttered as wires and sensors dotted your arms. The machines hummed, spitting out data as your energy levels spiked.

You craned your neck, watching the monitor. "That squiggle is me?"

Reed adjusted his glasses. "That's your energy pattern. It's extraordinary. I've never seen anything so—"

"Beautiful squiggle," you interrupted proudly.

Reed stopped mid-sentence, then allowed himself a faint smile. "Yes. Beautiful squiggle."

When he asked you to lift a bar weighted for Ben, you did so with ease, giggling when the equipment snapped under your grip. Reed scribbled notes furiously, muttering about "upper limits" and "cosmic energy resonance."

Johnny peeked into the lab, watching you flex your strength with curiosity. "Careful, Stretch. Don't poke and prod her too much. She might decide she likes me better."

You tilted your head. "Like... you better?"

Johnny smirked. "Yeah. Who wouldn't?"

Reed groaned. "Johnny, out."

________

The kitchen smelled of frying onions as Ben maneuvered a spatula in his massive rocky hand. HERBIE hovered nearby, reading out a recipe.

"Add one teaspoon of paprika," the robot chimed.

"Teaspoon? My hand's bigger than the whole jar," Ben muttered. He glanced at you. "Hey, kid, wanna help out?"

You nodded eagerly, leaning over the pan. "It smells... happy."

Ben chuckled. "That's dinner. It's supposed to."

You carefully stirred with a wooden spoon, tongue peeking out in concentration. HERBIE buzzed approvingly. "Good motion. Even distribution achieved."

Ben winked at you. "You're a natural."

Later, when the team sat down, you proudly announced: "I helped make this food. It tastes... alive."

Johnny nearly spit out his bite laughing. "Alive? You mean good."

Ben crossed his arms, smirking. "Don't knock it, hotshot. She's right. Food's gotta have life in it."

______

Sue sat cross-legged on your bed, a pile of new clothes spread out around her. "Okay," she said, holding up two shirts. "These two go together. Matching colors is important, or else people will stare for the wrong reasons."

Behind the folding screen, you pulled on a pair of jeans and a soft sweater. "Earth has so many rules for clothing," you said, voice muffled. "On Tamaran, we wore what made us feel strong."

Sue smiled. "Here, it's more about expression—and sometimes, practicality."

The door creaked open and Johnny leaned against the frame, grinning. "She could wear a potato sack and still turn heads."

You stepped out just then, tugging at the sleeves of the sweater, hair slightly mussed from changing. You blinked at him. "A potato sack? Would that look good?"

Sue sighed. "He's exaggerating. Don't listen to him."

But Johnny only smirked. "Hey, with or without clothes, I'm sure anything works."

You tilted your head at his words, studying him. Then, completely serious, you said, "You have already seen me without clothing. And you liked it."

The room froze.

Johnny's mouth dropped open. His face went red so fast Sue almost laughed. "Wha—hey—I—" He sputtered, pointing vaguely at the hall like he might run for safety.

Sue's eyes widened. "Wait. What?"

You frowned, glancing between them. "When I was changing. He came in. He looked. I did not mind."

Johnny slapped a hand over his mouth hiding his smirk. "Maybe, please stop telling people that."

Sue pressed her fingers to her temples, caught between amusement and disbelief. "Okay, first of all, Johnny—you need to learn to knock. Second—" she turned to you gently, "—on Earth, that kind of thing is private. If you tell someone you don't mind them seeing you... it sounds like you're inviting them.”

You blinked, confused. "Inviting them to... what?"

Johnny choked, running a hand through his hair. "Nope. I'm out. I can't do this." He bolted out of the room, mumbling something about needing air.

"I should not invite Johnny?" You tilted your head, still puzzled. "But he likes to see me?"

Sue sighed, laughing despite herself. "Yeah, sweetie. That's the problem."

_________

The months since your arrival had passed in a blur of laughter, exploration, and rooftop nights overlooking the city. New York had grown used to you—mostly—and the Fantastic Four had become your family.

But the peace shattered with Reed's urgent voice over the comm.

"Everyone, I need you in the lab. Now."

You floated down from your room and followed the others, curiosity prickling your chest. Reed stood hunched over a glowing console, multiple screens awash with violent waves of shifting energy signatures. His jaw was tight, fingers tapping rapidly across the keys.

Sue was the first to step forward. "Reed? What's happening?"

Reed adjusted his glasses, not looking away from the screen. "Unusual energy readings. They've been escalating for the past hour. And now—" he tapped a graph that spiked so sharply it looked like a blade "—something massive is approaching Earth. High velocity. Purposeful trajectory."

Ben crossed his arms, frowning. "So we're talkin' big? Like how big?"

Johnny let out a low whistle. "Company, huh? Can't be good."

You hovered near the ceiling, your heart sinking, the air suddenly harder to breathe. A shiver crawled across your skin. You already knew. You had known the moment the alarms went off.

Sue turned her head, watching you carefully. "You okay?"

"I..." Your voice caught. You forced it out, softer. "I feel... nervous."

Johnny tilted his head at you, frowning. "You look worse than nervous. What's going on?"

Reed finally turned from the console, his face serious. "Whoever—or whatever—is out there isn't just passing by. They're coming here. Directly here."

Your stomach twisted. Fingers curled tightly against your palms, energy sparking faintly at your fingertips. You wanted to tell them, you needed to—but the words locked in your throat, strangled by fear.

Johnny noticed first, his flame flickering along his arm. "Hey. You're acting weird. Talk to us."

"I... I cannot," you whispered, eyes darting away.

Sue's voice softened. "Cannot or... will not?"

You shook your head, guilt boiling in your chest. "If I tell you... you will be angry. You will hate me."

Ben shifted, his gravelly voice quieter than usual. "Kid, we've seen each other at our worst. Nothin's gonna make us hate ya."

Reed's gaze was sharp, unrelenting. "If something's wrong, we need to know. The safety of this planet depends on it."

You flinched at his tone, hugging yourself. Every warning from the monitors pressed heavier on your shoulders. Every second you stayed silent felt like a betrayal.

Johnny stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You're scaring us more by not saying anything. Just tell me. Please."

The plea in his voice broke you.

You dropped to the floor, no longer hovering, and the words tumbled out in a rush, as if you'd been holding them back for too long.

"I said... my planet was destroyed. That was not true." Your breath came faster, chest heaving. "Tamaran still lives. I—" You stopped, biting your lip until you tasted copper.

Reed's eyes narrowed. "Go on."

"I left," you said quickly, the words spilling before you could stop them. "I left because I am... I am a princess there. And they... they wanted me to marry. An arranged marriage. To someone I did not want. I ran away. I thought—if I came here, no one would follow. No one would know. I wanted to choose for myself."

The room fell silent.

Johnny blinked. "Wait. You're a... princess?"

Your throat tightened. "Yes." You stared at the floor, ashamed. "And now they come. They come for me. Because of me, your world is in danger."

Sue shook her head firmly. "That's not your fault."

But you weren't listening. Your voice rose, trembling. "I should surrender. If I give myself, they will leave. They will not hurt Earth if I go. That is the only way."

Johnny's flames sparked brighter, his face twisting. "Are you kidding me? No way. You're not just handing yourself over."

You shook your head violently, tears stinging your eyes. "You do not understand! They will kill you if I stay. Your world will suffer because of me!"

Ben's voice rumbled, steady. "We've faced worse. You think we're gonna roll over now?"

Sue reached for your hand. "You're part of this family. And we don't abandon family."

But it was Reed's voice, calm and unwavering, that cut through the panic. He stepped forward, meeting your eyes. "You have every right to choose your life. You ran because you wanted freedom. That is not a crime—it is courage. And whatever force is coming for you, they will face us as well. Together."

You stared at him, lips trembling, your chest rising and falling too fast. "But... what if we lose?"

Johnny moved to your side, fire dimmed to a soft glow, his hand brushing yours. "Then we lose together. But I'm not letting you go without a fight."

The knot in your chest loosened—not gone, but lighter. For the first time since the alarms began, you let yourself breathe.

And deep inside, you realized: surrendering was no longer an option. Not with them beside you.

_______

Before you could answer, the alarms shrieked again, louder this time. The monitors flared with red warnings as energy signatures spiked off the charts.

Sue looked at the screen, eyes wide. "Reed... they're here."

"Already?" Johnny hissed, flames flickering across his shoulders.

A low rumble vibrated through the Baxter Building, rattling the lab equipment. The sound wasn't from inside—it was the city itself, groaning under the force of something descending fast from the sky.

You clutched your arms tight to your chest, terror flooding your voice. "It is them. The guard. They... they found me."

Ben cracked his stone fists together. "Then let's give 'em a proper welcome."

Reed's jaw set. "Everyone—move."

⸻

The four of them rushed out, you trailing behind with a weight of dread dragging every step. But when you reached the rooftop, the night sky confirmed your fears.

A massive ship hovered above Manhattan, obsidian and sharp-edged, its underbelly glowing with Tamaranian energy you knew too well. Around it, smaller crafts swarmed, soldiers clad in armor descending on beams of light.

The streets below screamed with panic.

Johnny swore under his breath. "You weren't exaggerating."

Your voice cracked. "They will not stop until I return with them."

"Not happening," Johnny snapped, fire bursting fully to life as he lifted off the rooftop.

The first wave of Tamaranean soldiers landed with a clash of steel and fire, energy bolts cutting across the night sky. Reed stretched forward to shield civilians, Sue raised a dome of shimmering force around a fleeing crowd, and Ben barreled into the first group with a roar.

You hesitated. Your powers crackled at your palms, but fear rooted you to the spot.

One soldier locked eyes with you and lunged.

"MOVE!" Johnny shouted.

The soldier fired an energy blast straight for your chest—Johnny streaked in, flames blazing, intercepting it midair. He wrapped an arm tight around your waist, pulling you against him. The heat of his fire mixed with the thundering of your heart.

"Eyes up, princess," he breathed, half a grin cutting through his worry. "You're with me."

Together, you shot into the sky.

⸻

The battle blurred around you—flashes of Reed's arms snaring ships from the sky, Sue throwing up shields to protect screaming civilians, Ben tearing through soldiers with unshakable fury.

Johnny guided you higher, weaving through beams of fire. "Focus on me. You can do this."

You nodded, breath shaky, and hurled an orb of green energy toward an enemy craft. It exploded brilliantly, scattering metal across the sky.

Your heart hammered as you whispered, "Johnny..."

He caught your gaze for a split second, eyes burning with fire and something softer. Then he grinned sharply. "Let's fry the rest of 'em together."

And for the first time since the alarms rang, you believed you could.

Then it happened.

A searing, jagged beam struck your back, the energy almost identical to your own. Pain flared through your body like a living thing, burning along your spine and exploding in your chest. You cried out, voice caught somewhere between shock and fear, as your body was hurled through the air.

Time slowed in a terrifying, vivid instant. The city stretched and twisted around you. Screaming civilians below, the chaotic dance of fire and energy from Johnny, the stone fists of Ben moving like meteors—none of it registered clearly. All you felt was the agony tearing through you.

You slammed into the ground with a deafening crack, the force of impact jarring your bones and knocking the breath from your lungs. You slid across the plaza, grinding against stone, your hands scraping as you tried to stop.

For a moment, the world went silent, except for the ringing in your ears. Pain clouded your vision; the edges of the plaza blurred, the lights of the city smeared into lines of color.

The heat of battle still lingered in the air—the acrid scent of scorched concrete, the hum of fading energy blasts. You struggled to your knees, winded and aching, chest rising and falling too fast. The impact from the beam had knocked the breath out of you, and your body screamed in protest.

"Are you okay?!" Johnny's voice cut through your daze. He hovered beside you, flames dancing low around his wrists, his eyes scanning every inch of your body.

"I... I... yes," you whispered, though your muscles burned and your back throbbed from the impact.

Ben crouched down, placing a massive hand gently on your shoulder. "Don't move too fast. You're shaken, but you're still here. That's what counts."

Sue hovered above, her force field flickering protectively, glancing skyward.

And then, like a living shadow tearing through the clouds, they descended.

Two figures, regal and immense, cut across the night sky—your parents. Your mother's robes flowed with an otherworldly luminescence; your father's body crackled faintly with the same energy that had blasted you moments before. The plaza felt impossibly small beneath their presence.

Your stomach tightened, and your hands curled into fists as your pulse surged. The beam that had struck you still throbbed in your memory, a burning reminder of their power.

"You defied us," your mother's voice rang out, sharp as a blade. It carried authority that made your knees want to buckle. "You abandoned your duty. You were meant to lead. You were meant to serve your people, and yet you ran."

Your lips trembled, but you forced words out, breath shaky. "...I... I had to leave. I could not stay. The arranged marriage... I could not accept it. I could not be forced."

Your father's eyes narrowed, energy humming around him like a living storm. "You disobeyed your family, your people. You leave everything behind. And now... you expect us to let you make this choice?"

"I have to," you said, voice rising slightly but still quivering. "This is where I belong. I want to stay. I cannot go back. I... I choose this life. Here. With them."

Your mother's voice snapped, rising like a whip. "Do you understand what you are saying? You are giving up your throne, your people, everything we have built. Do you think this is a game?"

"I am not playing," you said firmly, a tear slipping down your cheek. "I'm not running away. I want to protect them. I want to protect this world. I choose this. I am ready."

Your father's energy flared briefly, a crackling halo of power around him. "You are reckless, naive. You have no idea what you are giving up. You have no right to decide your fate!"

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stand taller, fists glowing faintly with energy as you channeled the nervous tremor into resolve. Reed stepped forward, calm but resolute.

"She does. She has every right to choose her life," Reed said firmly. "No one can force her to be something she is not. This—your daughter—has shown courage beyond measure. You would do well to respect that."

Your mother's gaze snapped to him, sharp and appraising, but she said nothing, letting his words linger like a weight in the air.

You drew a deep, shaky breath, eyes never leaving your parents. "...I do have the right. I will not rule. I choose to live here. I will protect the people I care about."

For a long moment, your mother's glare pinned you in place, and you felt the tremor of fear, the pull of the life you'd left behind. The weight of your decision pressed down on your chest. But you stood your ground, chin raised despite the quivering of your limbs.

Finally, she exhaled sharply, the edge of her voice softening slightly though her tone remained severe. "You are defiant, just as your father warned. This choice... it will not be easy. You will pay a price. If you falter, there will be consequences. We will not forget what you have done."

You nodded slowly, fists still glowing faintly, and met her gaze unwaveringly. "...I understand. And I am ready. Here... with them."

Johnny hovered close behind you, flames flickering low in a protective halo, his hand brushing yours ever so slightly. He didn't speak, but the quiet squeeze of reassurance sent a pulse of warmth through your chest.

Ben stayed nearby, arms folded, alert but letting you hold your own against your parents. Sue floated silently, watching every subtle movement, prepared to shield if needed.

Your parents exchanged a long, measured glance, energy humming faintly around them like coiled tension. You felt the sting of fear and the weight of responsibility settle fully on your shoulders—but now, you also felt resolve. This was your choice. Your life.

And for the first time, despite the power and authority of your parents, you felt ready to defend it.

With one last look of disappointment, your parents wordlessly turned, their expressions unreadable but sharp with authority. Energy crackled faintly around them as they ascended, their forms shrinking against the night sky until they disappeared into the shimmering hull of the awaiting ship. Behind them, the remaining soldiers and smaller craft hesitated for a moment, then fell in line, retreating silently into the darkness.

The plaza was left in an eerie quiet. Smoke drifted from scorched pavement, small fires smoldered in the wreckage of energy blasts, and the faint hum of residual energy lingered in the air.

You slumped to your knees, the exhaustion of battle weighing on you. Your chest heaved as adrenaline faded, leaving the raw ache in its place. Johnny hovered beside you, flames now low and flickering like a protective aura. "You okay?" he asked softly, not needing an answer—the way you shook slightly and pressed your palms to your back said it all.

Ben crouched nearby, his large hands gentle as he helped you steady yourself. "You fought well," he said quietly. "Better than most heroes could. You held your own."

Sue floated just above, arms crossed, eyes sweeping the plaza to ensure no hidden threats remained. "They're gone," she said. "The city is safe—for now. And you... you're safe too."

You nodded, energy flickering faintly along your hands as if testing your own limits after the strike. "I... I did not know... if I could..." you admitted, voice shaking.

Johnny brushed a strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering a fraction longer than necessary. "Hey, you're still here. That's what matters."

_______

The public's opinion was divided. Some feared you, whispering about the destruction and wondering if your presence had brought the threat to Earth in the first place. Others marveled at your courage, praising your restraint and the way you had protected civilians. Children drew pictures of you soaring above the skyline, energy trailing like ribbons behind your hands, while adults debated your intentions in hushed voices over coffee or on social media.

Morning drills in the Baxter Building began to feel routine. You and Johnny sparred on the rooftop, flames and energy beams crisscrossing as you laughed through minor mistakes. He grinned every time you caught him off guard with a well-timed blast.

"You're getting better," he said one afternoon, tossing a ball of fire gently toward you. "Almost as fast as me."

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing in concentration. "Almost? I will surpass you eventually."

Johnny laughed, shaking his head. "We'll see about that, princess."

Ben was just as patient. The two of you spent long afternoons in the kitchen, chopping, stirring, and tasting everything from pancakes to elaborate stews. "Careful!" he barked, laughing when a spoonful of batter splashed across the counter. "Cooking is about patience and precision, not just smashing things together."

"I... try to learn," you said earnestly, picking up the spoon and continuing. Batter clung to your fingers, and you licked it clean before anyone could react. Ben groaned, shaking his head, but there was a fondness in his gaze.

Sue guided you through missions with quiet authority, teaching you strategy, observation, and how to protect civilians without overexerting yourself. She never underestimated you, but she never pushed too hard either, letting you grow at your own pace.

Evenings brought quieter moments. Sometimes, you found yourself on the rooftop, gazing at the city lights with Johnny. Occasionally, your hands brushed, and a blush would rise to your cheeks while he smirked knowingly. Other times, you simply leaned against the railing, letting the wind carry your hair and the city's sounds wrap around you.

"I... I miss them," you admitted one night softly, eyes on the horizon, remembering your parents and the world you had left behind.

Johnny's expression softened, flames low around his wrists. "Of course you do. You're giving up a lot. But..." He nudged your shoulder gently. "...you chose this. And you made the right call."

You tilted your head, unsure of what "right" meant in this strange, complicated world. "I... I am happy. I am... content. I know I made my choice. Even if... they may never understand, I am where I belong."

The city stretched endlessly beneath you, alive and chaotic, but no longer frightening. You were part of it now. You belonged.

And for the first time, you smiled without hesitation—because this was your life, and you were ready for every challenge it would bring.

Coffee brewed, igniting the smell of roast to the already aroma of bacon grease and French toast. Eggs frying on the skillet, a flight of jam spreads and butter for a stack of bread waiting to be toasted. Johnny kept checking the time in between whisking the batter, making sure his love remained in her slumber while he orchestrated the perfect birthday breakfast for her. 

He woke up at the crack of dawn. A rarity considering it was his day off and he usually spent those in bed for a few more hours snuggling her until she had to leave for work or they got the chance to be lazy all day. But today was different. Sue gave him the day, knowing it was a special one and assured him she along with Reed and Ben would handle any city-saving situation should it happen and they’d meet for dinner and presents later that night. 

The sun was barely off the horizon when Johnny placed the baking pan in the oven, Herbie finished cutting an assortment of fruits to plate on the French toast, leaving the remainder in a bowl to pick on. Setting a timer, he busied himself cleaning what he could and setting up the tray, sneaking pieces of fruits in between and checking the clock again because at any moment the delivery guy would arrive with a bouquet of her favorite flowers.

He raced to the elevator doors when they sounded, signing off on the flowers and thanking the guy with a beaming smile, who gave a salute and went on his way. Johnny carried the bouquet to the kitchen, setting them on the counter and proceeded to quietly enter the bedroom towards his side of the wardrobe. He sneaked a glance to the bed, pleased to find her still asleep, and a soft smile etched his face at the sight of her cuddling his pillow, nuzzling her nose into the fabric as she let out a content sigh. 

The smile never left as he kneeled to open the bottom drawer where he kept his golf attire, lifting the pile of polos and reaching until he found the envelope containing her card and one of the many birthday gifts he hid in their shared suite. Clutching the envelope in his fingers, Johnny reached further into the drawer until he hit the backboard and then inched his fingers to the left where they met a velvet box. He didn’t remove it, no, that was for a later date, the memory of her comment to a friend when she thought he wasn’t listening that she despises when people propose on birthdays and holidays. 

Johnny already had a date set for when that little velvet box would get its moment to shine. It was on the horizon, a few weeks to be exact. He needed to finish up a few details with the help of his sister and then everything would be perfect. 

Taping the box twice, Johnny retracted his hand and put the polos back in their place. Closing the drawer as quietly as he could, he stood from his kneeling position and tiptoed his way out of the room. Back in the kitchen, the timer counted down two minutes and so Johnny positioned the card on the flowers and began platting the finished food. He scooped the fried eggs on a plate, the strips of bacon beside it, next to that was a few pieces of toast. He put the plate on the tray first, then put the bowl of mixed fruit, some napkins, and two forks. 

He grabbed their favorite coffee mugs and placed them in front of the pot, right as the buzzer sounded and he carefully removed the pan to place on the stovetop. Letting it cool, he prepared their coffee while Herbie plated the French toast, topping it with syrup, whip cream, and several of the fruits. The little flight of jams added to the tray, and finally Johnny plated the baked goods and placed them in the center of the tray, topped with a large candle. There were still some leftovers in the baking sheet, but those were reserved for his family knowing she’d be upset for them to miss out on some homemade goodies. 

“I think we did pretty good, Herbert,” he beamed, hands on his hips as he took in the final product. Herbie let out an agreeing sound, the blonde extending his fist for the robot to bump and they shared a laugh. “Alright, big man,” he placed the mugs on a separate, smaller tray, “you take the flowers and coffee, I’ll handle the main event.” 

Passing the two things over, Johnny gathered the tray in his hands, balancing it carefully so as to not let his hard work get ruined and left the kitchen. Herbie followed behind, Johnny light on his feet as they approached the bedroom where the door was still slightly ajar from where he left it. Once he got in front of the door he heard rustling and peaked inside to see her beginning to rouse, her hand coming to her face to rub her eyes. 

Not needing a lighter, Johnny lit a flame with the snap of his fingers and brought it to the candle, the glow of orange and yellow lighting the hallway, and he gave a gentle knock before pushing the door open. Right on time too, as his gaze landed on his beautiful partner beginning to remove the comforter. 

“Not so fast, darling,” he watched her jump in surprise, head snapping to his direction which led to a gasp. “You aren’t leaving that bed anytime soon.” Now usually when Johnny Storm spoke those words, he referred to something else that kept her in bed. 

Her expression softened, adjusting her body to sit up on the mattress, “Johnny, you shouldn’t have.” Pressing her back to the headboard, she watched with adoration as he came around the bed, carefully placing the tray on her lap and laid a kiss on her forehead. 

“You didn’t think I’d skip out on showing my love and devotion to you on the day you came into this world, now did you?” He teased, leaning down to now kiss her lips. He pressed, one, two, three kisses before pulling away, grabbing the flowers from Herbie to which earned him another gasp.

“Wow, breakfast in bed and flowers.” The smile she wore was wide, matching the sparkling wonder of her eyes as she watched him place the vase on the nightstand. “What did I do to deserve such treatment on my birthday?”

Johnny grinned, scratching Herbie on the head before taking the steaming mugs held out to him. “Oh you know, just putting up with the most hotheaded man on the planet and being the most wonderful person in the entire universe.” Walking around to his side of the bed, he handed her the mug and crawled into the space beside her, offering a nonchalant shrug. “Not because I love you or would move heaven and Earth for you.”

“Oh of course not,” she hummed, eyes full of mischief as she brought the cup to her mouth. Inhaling the scent before taking a sip, which resulted in a content sigh. “Johnny Storm in love? Devoted to his partner? Your fan club would go up in flames.” She couldn’t help but chuckle at her own remark, which Johnny also found humorous. 

Herbie let out a whizzing sound, gaining the attention of the woman, who grinned and patted his head. “Thank you, Herbs. I know he couldn’t have prepared this on his own.” Johnny gasped in offense.

“Excuse me, I’ll have you know I baked this all on my own!” He pointed to his masterpiece, the candle still burning. “Speaking of, make a wish, my love.” 

She let out a squeak, handing the mug to Herbie, who happily held it for her while she leaned into Johnny and closed her eyes. A second passed, then two before she opened them and leaned forward, blowing the candle out with a puff of air. Light smoke released and she gave a clap of her hands while Johnny kissed the side of her head.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

“Thank you, Johnny,” hands came up to cradle his face, kissing his lips so softly it made him melt. “This is beautiful. It’s everything I could’ve wished for to start the day. You truly outdid yourself.” Herbie hummed, causing her to laugh when Johnny went in for another kiss. She pulled away to look at the robot, “And thank you for all your hard work and supervision, Herbie.” She took the mug back, kissing her fingers to then press onto his head. The robot let out a series of hummed giggles, telling her happy birthday once more before taking his cue to leave. 

Once Herbie was gone, Johnny extended his hand holding the mug, "Cheers, babe, to another lap around the sun."

Clinking her mug with his, she grinned, "to another lap around the sun." They both brought the steaming cups to their mouths, sipping the liquid gold as it the heat hit their face. 

“Well, darling, where do you want to start?” Johnny handed her a fork, putting his mug on his nightstand before moving the tray so it was more on his lap than hers to give her room. 

“I don’t know,” she flickered between the assortment of breakfast foods in front of her. Debating on whether to dig into the French toast or start with a piece of crispy bacon. “Everything smells and looks so good.” 

Johnny cut some of the French toast with his fork, making the decision for her after he saw the way she was eyeing it. “Open wide,” he held it toward her mouth, laughing when the blob of whip cream got on her nose. She shrieked before falling into laughter while she chewed, humming with content as she gave him a thumbs up, “that’s some good French toast, Storm.”

“Glad I got it right,” he brought his own forkful to his mouth, making the same sound of approval. “It was either this or waffles, but I thought you’d prefer this since we had waffles last week.”

“You were right to assume,” she went for the bacon next, munching on it between sips of coffee. 

The atmosphere of the room was peaceful as they sat in their shared bed, feeding each other fruits and sneaking kisses in between bites. They devoured the eggs and bacon, took turns on the French toast and treated themselves to a slice of toast. When it came time to have the baked goods as dessert, she gave him a knowing look, “you saved some for the others?”

Johnny threw back the last gulp of his coffee, setting the empty mug on the nightstand, “I sure did. Enough for everyone---and for Franklin to have a little extra if my sister allows it.” 

“Good,” her tone was pleased, beginning to dive into the sweet treat. “I’d hate for them to miss out on your creation.” Before she took a bite, her gaze turned soft again, eyes filled with love at the man beside her who captured her heart and soul. “Thank you again, Johnny. This meant everything to me--and I know you put a lot of dedication into doing this.”

Johnny cradled the back of her neck with his hand, bringing her forward until their foreheads touched, “Anything for you, my darling darling girl.” He kissed her gently, placing one more on her forehead. “I know you mentioned not wanting to do a lot for your birthday, but you deserve getting special treatment today.”

She made a face, “you give me special treatment everyday, Johnny.” 

Johnny had planned on casually announcing it at the Sunday dinner, after you had talked him down from the long speech he had written in the palm of his hand. But it so happened to be the night that Ben figured out that Sue was pregnant. And being the unselfish people you are, opted to keep the spotlight on Sue and her pregnant glow and figure out another time to tell everyone.

That other time being when your earth was threatened and on the verge of being destroyed. It appears that the universe did not appreciate the love between the two superheroes.

And from that point onwards, you and Johnny decided that it was the universe telling you to keep your relationship a secret. And so you did.

For about a month. Maximum. 

Apparently being in a relationship with Johnny ‘loves women’ Storm meant you couldn’t keep your hands off each other for less than a minute; because according to him, if he didn’t have his hands on you, he’ll approach supernova and set fire to the earth’s atmosphere and kill all human life as you know it.

His words, not mine.

Which led to one of the worst kept secrets in Earth-828 and being in a house with literal geniuses and the world's smartest man, your private rendezvous with Johnny didn’t remain private for that long.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ④ ⋆ ˚｡⋆

Sue Storm was the first to find out, she knew her brother well and could tell something was off when he seemed to spend more time in his room than usual and held a shit-eating grin at 8:00 in the morning; his designated time to frown and tuck into his cereal.

She never verbalised it to him, knowing Johnny would throw accusations at her and somehow blame Reed for all of this. So she stayed quiet and in question, allowing her brother to keep his private life to himself.

But by chance, if she happened to walk into something she was never meant to see, then Sue couldn’t say she was actively invading his private life.

“Johnny!” Sue shouted as she stormed towards his room, his door closed and protecting whatever was inside. 

The Invisible Woman groaned as her brother didn’t respond, annoyed that he was clearly still asleep way into the afternoon and still in possession of what she was after.

Sue knocked on the door, “Johnny! You’ve got the baby monitor from last night, can I have it back?” She sighed as the room remained silent.

She knocked harder this time, “Seriously, Johnny! You said you’d give it back yesterday after you put Franklin down!”

The room was void of any response and Johnny, inside the room, made absolutely no effort to move. Sue couldn’t even hear the sounds of the bed cover rustling when she thought Johnny had finally woken up and got the memo, but there was no movement inside Johnny’s room.

Sue grew agitated, yet wanted to allow Johnny his privacy and didn’t barge in (yet). “It’s embarrassing that you’re still asleep at this hour, you know?” She teased from the other side of the door, expecting Johnny to groan and chirp out a witty comeback that would make Sue slap the back of his head; but again, nothing.

“I’m not joking around anymore! I’ll come in and get it myself!” Sue warned and put her hands on her hips, counting to 10 which would allow Johnny to get decent or respond.

“Whatever, I’m doing this myself.” Sue muttered to herself and barged through her brother’s door, eyes scanning the room for her baby monitor.

Sue’s hand flew to her mouth as her eyes landed on Johnny’s bed and how he was curled in on his side with his mouth open and little snores escaping them. But it was the woman his arms were wrapped around who shocked her.

She was aware Johnny loved women and he definitely wouldn’t be opposed to inviting one into his bed. But inviting one into the Baxter Building with the entire team a few doors away, surprised her to no end.

Either the woman was the real deal for Johnny and he only brought her in here because he truly trusts and loves her; or that she was a massive fan and when she sits up, she’d be sporting an ‘I Love Reed Richards’ shirt.

“Uhh…” Sue looked anywhere but the bed, embarrassed to walk into the two sleeping figures but she was on a mission to find her baby monitor.

As she searched Johnny’s room, Sue couldn’t shake off the fact that she knew that head of hair on the woman, it felt familiar. There were definitely multiple women with the same hair colour but none identical to the one that laid out on her brother’s pillow, strands twisted in his hand.

Sue squinted her eyes as her footsteps took her closer to the pair on the bed, Johnny’s large bedtime shirt engulfing the mysterious woman while he laid shirtless with plaid pyjama bottoms on that were short at the shin on him.

She recognised the woman. Sure, she had saved the world a couple times and recognised a few faces along the way. But she was different, this woman wasn’t just some person, she felt familiar…

Hell, she even looked like--

“Y/N?” Johnny groaned as he nestled his head into your shoulder.

Sue gasped and quickly turned herself invisible, holding her breath as she watched you turn around and lie face to face with Johnny. 

“Yeah?” You mumbled in response and thread your hands through Johnny's blonde hair, feeling his body grow warmer against you, a habit he had when he felt satisfied.

Sue slowly backed towards the door, baby monitor clutched in her hand. She thanked everything that Johnny was so enchanted by you that he didn’t look over your shoulder to see a floating baby monitor backtracking to his door.

Johnny sighed in content and pressed soft kisses to your neck, “Stay here for a little bit longer.” He mumbled into your skin.

You breathed out a laugh and let Johnny do how he pleased, while your words contradicted his, “No, Johnny. You know I’ve got to meet Reed in the lab soon--” “So? Who cares about Reed?” Johnny shrugged.

Sue’s mouth dropped open slightly, mouthing a silent ‘Me!’. 

“Johnny!” You scolded him and playfully pushed his shoulder, but he didn’t budge and instead propped an arm up to hover above you slightly.

“I need you more than Reed. He’ll make you go over some dumb equation. Stay with your hot boyfriend who needs another hour with you, minimum.” Johnny grinned and brushed stray hairs from your face.

You quirked a brow, “Was that a play on words? ‘Hot boyfriend’?” Johnny smirked, “Maybe. Did you notice?”

“Yes, I did.” You laughed and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer and letting his body heat convince you to stay a little while longer. No! No, you had work to do with Reed.

Johnny leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, feeling him smile into the kiss and his other hand cupped your cheek. “Johnny! I have to meet Reed!” You giggled into the kiss, but made no effort to shove him away.

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t say my brother-in-law's name while I’m kissing you.” He pulled away with his nose scrunched up, but a quick shake of his head and eyes widening made him lean down to try and kiss you again.

Sue grimaces from across the room. Of course Johnny would say something like that, he might be the Human Torch but he’ll always be Sue’s strange little brother to her.

“We’ll get caught if I stay any longer.” You protested and raised your brows. “You make a good point, beautiful.” Johnny smiled, “But I don’t care.” 

As he shuffled to hover over you completely, Sue cringed and took this as her cue to leave, coming back with a lot more than she had intended.

As she ventured out the room, she walked into Johnny’s record player which screeched uncomfortably against the flooring, causing Sue to freeze her movements as she remained invisible.

Both yours and Johnny’s head snapped towards the sound, lips swollen from the kisses and bed hair evident. Your brows furrowed for a moment but Johnny didn’t seem all that concerned.

He turned back to you and shrugged, “Probably Ben moving around upstairs or something.” He mumbled and went in to kiss you which you intercepted with your hand.

“Now you’re the one bringing up other team members while trying to kiss me!” You laughed and teased his earlier comment, causing him to groan and bow his head into the crook of your neck.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Y/N.” Johnny chuckled and moved off of you, letting you begin with your day.

However, neither of you noticed the Invisible Woman quickly dart out the room and didn’t question why the door was open when you swore you shut it before you fell asleep.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ④ ⋆ ˚｡⋆

The way Reed Richards found out was completely out of your control. Partially.

“That’s strange…” Reed muttered as he looked through his data beside him, your arm grasped in his hand as he did his usual checkup, being superheroes and all.

Your head turned to face him, pulling you out of your conversation with Johnny who was sitting on the table behind you, arms crossed against his chest. “What’s wrong?” You tilted your head.

“It’s just… I’ve never seen something like this before.” Reed stood and walked over to his chalkboard, hands moving frantically to try and figure out the cause of this.

“Something wrong with her, Reed?” Johnny stood, concerned and stepped towards you, fingers brushing your shoulder as you stayed sitting in your chair. Reed didn’t answer and repeatedly mumbled to himself, eyes closing for a moment to go over equations and solutions in his head.

Reed shook his head, turning back to face the pair of you, “Not particularly, no.” You and Johnny looked at each other with furrowed brows. “Out of the ordinary, yes. But nothing’s wrong with you.” Reed concluded and sat back down in his seat, shuffling the chair closer to yours so he could give you the debrief.

“So, what is it?” You questioned and crossed your legs over in the chair. 

“Your body temperature is a lot higher than usual.” Reed nodded. You shook your head, “I don’t get it. Is that a bad thing?”

“No! It would be if it was any other person but the slight concern is that your body temperature is far beyond the average. It’s like for a moment your vitals proved you could have reached full body on fire if you were a normal person.” Reed relayed and defended your spot in the team. 

You squint your eyes and felt Johnny tense up slightly behind you, “Huh…” You said quietly. Feeling like you already knew the cause to your body practically turning into the sun’s heat, you stood up to leave, “That’ll be all--”

“I think I’ve determined the cause of your issue, Y/N.” Reed stood just as quick as you, rounding you to stand shoulder to shoulder with you, sheets gripped in his hand and he pointed across the data.

“If you see here,” He pointed at your vitals, “It’s like your body has been exposed to too much heat consistently.” Your eyes widened and you subtly turned your head to see Johnny’s face paling.

“You sure it’s not just a coincidence?” Johnny stepped closer and read your data, laughing nervously and taking a sip of water.

Reed tutted, “Absolutely not, Johnny.” He handed you the data and pointed at your temperature in a bold font, “You’ve experienced this temperature so much that it’s practically becoming part of your DNA.”

Johnny choked on his water and coughed loud enough for Reed’s attention to be turned onto him, “You alright?” He moved closer to him and rubbed his back, glad Reed had missed your bright red face and wide eyes.

The blonde wiped his face and looked at you, “So what? You’re saying if she keeps… being exposed to this heat, we’ll have a female human torch walking down the street?” His voice raised and he flailed his arms between himself and you.

Your mouth opened at Johnny’s not-so-subtle question, “Johnny!--”

“No, you’re the only human torch we’ll have, don’t worry about that.” Reed reassured him, “What on earth could be causing this heat, what have you been exposed to…” He trailed off and turned his back to the couple.

You snapped your head to Johnny and whisper-shouted at him, “Are you kidding me?”

Johnny’s cheeks were flushed and he set his drink back down on the table, “What?” He said exasperated. “Way to make it obvious!” You said to him.

“Not my fault that Reed’s basically said that when we have kids--” “Sorry, did you just say ‘when’?” You cut him off and your mouth fell open.

Johnny chose to ignore you, “That our children will basically be mini superhero versions of us because apparently my super hot DNA - pun intended by the way! - will be a part of our kids!” He breathed out, making wild gestures with his hands.

“That is so not what Reed said!” You laughed and Johnny spiralling. “That’s so what he said!” Johnny’s voice raised slightly but you could see a grin fighting to appear on his face.

Across the room, Reed laughed to himself, “Hey, Y/N.” He called out but you failed to hear him, “It’s almost as if you’re around Johnny too much--”

Reed trailed off as his mind worked faster than his words. Temperature. DNA. Exposure. Johnny is the Human Torch. Johnny exudes heat. 

Johnny was the heat you were exposed to consistently. You were dating--

“Johnny Storm!” Reed said out loud which made you and Johnny snap your heads to him, breaking you out of your mini / private conversation.

“Yeah?” Johnny shrugged, trying to act nonchalant as if his little breakdown didn’t happen and casually pretended that he hadn’t told you he wanted a future with you via Reed’s overanalysed data.

For the first time, the smartest man in the world was lost for words. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t realised it sooner. He probably should’ve raised questions when Johnny practically sold himself out and brought up his Human Torch persona after a lengthy discussion on your DNA; but Reed was good at science, not relationship! (Sue could prove this point).

“Nothing!” Reed quickly scooped up his work and darted for the lab door, “Need to find Sue for something, got the Storm siblings mixed up!” Johnny furrowed his brows, not believing his brother-in-law. 

“Alright… So, Y/N’s fine?” Johnny asked, standing too close to you and asking about your wellbeing too much for you to be ‘just friends’, it was all coming together in Reed’s head now.

“She’s fine,” Reed nodded and turned to the door, "Especially now she’s with you.” He laughed to himself but Johnny didn’t catch the last part.

“What did you say?” You and Johnny questioned, confused by Reed’s sudden departure, the lab was basically his second home. More like his first home, actually.

“I didn’t say anything!” Reed quickly left the room and made a beeline for his and Sue’s room, finding her curled up on the bed with Franklin on her lap and a book between her hands.

Reed dropped his data and stood in the doorway, “Did you know that Johnny and Y/N are dating--”

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ④ ⋆ ˚｡⋆

To some extent, Ben Grimm always knew that Johnny was dating you, being the closest to him and able to see through his poorly attempted lies.

Over the last few weeks, Ben was more observant of you and Johnny, especially on the battlefield.

Being rational in interdimensional fights, Johnny’s actions drove Ben insane sometimes; specifically the times when Johnny would find any excuse to flirt with you while you fought to save their earth.

“Y/N!” Johnny flew down and landed next to you, panting with a smug smile on his face. You turned around and saw your boyfriend approaching in his light blue suit that he wore so well.

“Oh, God.” You groaned playfully as you knew Johnny was up to no good. Ben, a couple feet away from you, watched the Human Torch gravitate towards you as if it was normal.

“Let’s play truth or dare?” Johnny smiled and his height towered over you. You looked up at him as if he’d grown two heads, “Seriously, Johnny! We’re in the middle of a fight!”

The blonde shrugged as if it was nothing, “So? Hasn’t stopped us before.” You rolled your eyes and started walking to Ben who was helping your earth while also eavesdropping on your conversation with Johnny. “You’re impossible.” You laughed as Johnny jogged to keep up with you before standing in your way.

“Just ask me.” He winked. You looked up at him and tutted, “Fine. Truth or--”

“Dare. I’ll do dare.” Johnny interrupted you which made you scrunch up your face and your mind couldn’t come up with one to satisfy Johnny’s risk-taking approach to life. “I don’t know!” You gestured, “I can’t come up with one right now, ask me later.” You tried to walk past him and continue protecting your earth.

“I’ve got one!” Johnny exclaimed. You wondered if Johnny had known this whole time what he wanted to do, maybe even while he was fighting, bored out of his mind that it spiralled into this. “You should dare me to take down this guy in under three minutes.”

You tilted your head, “Why would I do that?” 

You watched Johnny scan the area, obviously not thoroughly because he failed to see the bright orange Thing in the corner of his eye, before he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “If I do it then I believe I deserve a reward tonight.”

You raised your brows, “And what would that reward be, Johnny?” A smile crept up onto your face as Johnny looked at you as if the answer was obvious.

“I think you know, Y/N.” Johnny winked and you nodded at him, agreeing to his dare. He chuckled and looked back at you one more time before flying off to complete his mission; only suggesting it in the first place because Johnny knew he could do it in under three minutes.

If he was being honest, he could do it in under one minute. But he had to stay humble, for once.

Ben shook his head at Johnny who chose the wrong time to flirt, but confused by his proposal. Would your reward to him be those personal cookies you made so well that had everyone in Baxter Building asking for more. They had the recipe, it just didn’t taste as good as yours.

Ben’s train of thought was cut short as more threats came his way, deciding to prioritise the earth’s safety over Johnny and his painfully obvious flirting with you, but of course, you would never date him!

Sure, the reward was personal as Ben had suspected. Just not the… type of personal he had initially thought.

And Ben would find that out later that night as he sat with Herbie and tasted the sauce the pair had made. “Is that too strong?” Ben turned to Herbie, his chirps and beeps a valid enough answer for him.

He lifted his head as he saw you and Johnny burst into the building, not seeing The Thing in the kitchen part of the room. 

Johnny’s arm was slung over your shoulder and you were lent into his side, clearly just coming back from the debrief after the mission. “So, I did it in under three minutes.” Johnny’s hand twisted into your hair and you tilted your head back to look at him.

“That’s right…” You hummed. “Can I cash my reward now?” Johnny licked his lips and watched as you pretended to deliberate on the question. “You know you can.” You whispered.

Across the room, Ben heard your answer and shuffled stuff on the kitchen countertop to make room for you and your ingredients, still thinking you were about to offer Johnny your famous cookies.

Ben turned around and his smile was wiped off his face as he saw Johnny lean down to connect your lips, ducking down and catching the back of your thighs as he picked you up. You kissed Johnny back and threaded your hands through his blonde hair and smiled as he groaned into your mouth.

Herbie practically malfunctioned from across the room as Johnny placed your back on the couch and hovered over you. Ben felt like this really wasn’t the time or place for you and Johnny to make mini superheroes, so bravely spoke up, “Guys!”

You and Johnny separated in rapid time, “Ben?!” The pair of you gasped and flung yourself to opposite sides of the couch.

Ben held back a smirk at your flustered expression and how pale the Human Torch had gone, making a mental note to mock him for it afterwards. “What were you two doing?” Ben knew exactly what they were doing, he just wanted to have a little fun with the situation.

Your mouth opened and closed, “Johnny was just…” You shook your head for an excuse, “He was just checking my temperature! I haven’t been feeling good the last few days.” You lied and widened your eyes at Johnny, urging him to follow along.

Johnny flicked his eyes between you and Ben, trying to understand what you were doing. ‘Oh!’ He mouthed, “Right, I was just checking in on my girl-- the girl!” He corrected himself and shuffled closer to awkwardly place the back of his hand against your forehead.

Ben nodded slowly, “Did you check her throat aswell?” Johnny looked at you and shook his head, “No, of course no. Why?”

“Well, you had your tongue stuck down it so I thought it would be a double feature.” You choked on nothing as Ben laughed. Johnny’s face grew bright red and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“That’s… Yeah, I was…” Johnny stuttered out, realising there was no recovery in this situation.

You stood up from the couch and walked towards Ben, “Hey, do you mind not telling anyone about… this? Us?” 

“We already know.” Reed and Sue laughed as they walked into the room.

Johnny jumped from the couch and stumbled over to you, “I don’t think we were all that good at hiding it now that I’m thinking of it.” You rolled your eyes and elbowed him lightly, but him being dramatic, yelped.

Reed and Sue entered further into the room and went to sit on the couch, before the pair of them cringed at the reminder of what you and Johnny were about to do on the exact seat, and decided to sit on the chairs tucked into the dinner table.

“You guys are just the worst at keeping secrets.” Sue laughed as she bounced Franklin in her arms. Reed agreed and coddled his baby.

“I don’t know, they managed to keep it a secret for more than an hour, that’s impressive for them!” Ben shrugged and continued working on his sauce.

Johnny furrowed his brows, offended, “Come on! We weren’t that bad!”

Ben raised his eyebrows, “Flame Boy, you proposed that you and Y/N should get married when you’re older when we were fighting Galatus!” Johnny groaned and threw his head back, watching you laugh with them now, “Don’t encourage them, Y/N!” He whined.

“I can’t help it!” You chuckled and shuffled closer to him, settling your body into his. As everyone relayed their previous experiences about you two, you looked up at your boyfriend who you could proudly show off now, and vice versa. After everything, you were happy.

Ben is making pancakes by the counter, taking in his wide grin before announcing to no one in particular: "Oh my god, here he comes."

"Good morning to you too, Ben." Johnny's arms are hidden behind his back for now as he makes his way over to the soft carpet in front of the big couch, the familiar sound of wooden bricks clicking together. "And good morning, ladies! And Franklin."

You are sitting on the floor with Sue and the kids and when your head whips around at the sound of his voice and Johnny is hit with that superstellar million megawatt smile of yours, he promptly wants to collapse and thank the universe for the existence of someone as magnificent as you right there.

"Hi, Johnny!" You brush a hand over the top of your daughter's babysoft hair. "Look baby, it's daddy."

"You smell like a flower shop." Sue looks at him curiously, resting her chin on Franklin's head while he browsed through a picture book in her lap.

"Yeah, I took a little trip downtown, becaaaause-" He pulls the first bouquet from behind his back, an elegant assemble of lilies and tulips with Sue's favorite colors carefully woven in to seal the deal. "- I wanted to wish my sister a happy Women's day."

"Aw Johnny, that's so nice." Sue takes a flowers from him, squeezing his ankle as she examined the colors. "Thank you."

"Reed named a star after her, dude." Ben comments from the kitchen.

"Yeah well, Reed's not her brother!" Johnny calls back and moves on to you. Kneeling down beside you, he softly cups your cheek and kisses you, the slow kind of good morning kiss he could not start his day without. "And for the love of my life, warrior goddess angel bride, I have..."

"Johnny!" You giggle at the nicknames, shortly followed by a gasp as he reveals another giant bouquet, a delicate mix of red and pink roses. "Oh my god, they're wonderful..."

"Happy Women's day, baby." He kisses your temple and flops down beside you, an impressed whistle on his lips as his daughter presents him a tiny cube that looks a little chewed on. "Hi, sweetheart. What do you have here, are you building a princess castle again? You might become a real good architect one day, huh?"

His daughter hums non committedly but otherwise delighted to see him, she wobbles over until she could seat herself right into her daddy's lap.

You are still admiring the flowers in front of you, chewing on your lip as you watch Johnny play and chatter with your daughter. She's growing every day, always changing and bewitching you and Johnny in different ways, but you wish you could freeze this moment right here in time.

She's laughing while he makes nonsense for her and you lean your head against his shoulder while Johnny sneaks an arm around you. "I love you so much, Johnny..."

"I love you too, gorgeous." He smiles down at you, yours and his baby happily babbling at the three of you sit together and Sue quietly snaps a photo of your little family.

Years later and a space expedition gone awry, Johnny Storm smiled at the memory that could not help but surface as his finger traced over the raised ink along her left shoulder. Beautiful vines with flowers trailing onto her collarbone and the area above her breast exposed by her tank top. 

He loved tracing her tattoos. With his eyes to admire the colorful patterns. With his fingers to feel the textured skin. With his mouth to hear the way it made her breath hitched and got her legs shaking. 

He couldn’t choose a favorite, no matter how many times she’d ask him. He could say the sword and snake on her legs that were accentuated when she wore dresses or skirts paired with his favorite pair of heels she owned. He could say the full arm sleeve and patchwork designs displayed when she had on her coveralls. The small birds behind her ear that caught his attention when she’d pull her hair back. Or the sun and moon on her lower back he’d stare at when he had her on all fours. 

“What’s got you smiling like that,” she mused, fingers tangling in his blonde locks. 

“Just thinking about the first time I saw someone with these,” his warm breath fawned over the writing etched onto her right collarbone.

“Oh. And what all did that entail?”

His smile widened, lips brushing over the words, “What usually happens when something catches my attention.” 

He remembered talking Sue’s head off, questions spewing from his mouth and happy she had an answer for every one. He remembered noticing more and more people with inked artwork on their arms whenever they went out. Not by a lot as tattoos were still uncommon and those with them caught unimpressed reactions from the general public. Johnny’s eyes, however, were full of awe. When he did see them, it was usually men unafraid to show off their ink. Yes there were a lot of bikers and sailors. Men who’d done time, etc. 

But there were also the outliers. People who one wouldn’t expect to have gone under the needle and permanently etch their skin. He thought of the math teacher of his high school who bore an anchor on his wrist. A great white shark on the leg of the owner at his favorite bagel place down the street from his house. Then there was the lady at the salon with a portrait of Rosie the Riveter on her arm. 

He had to admit, seeing a woman with tattoos not only intimidated Johnny but also caused a certain heat to pool in his chest. Intimidating because he knew with tattoos came a level of pain considering it was a literal needle going into the second layer of the epidermis and Johnny felt he was too chicken shit to experience. But It was insanely attractive to him. Something about not being afraid to go against social norms and just being oneself. Not giving a flying fuck what others think and embracing your individuality. 

That was truly inspiring. 

With that in mind Johnny’s thoughts traced back to the previous summer when Sue introduced him to her and Reed’s recent hire. 

“Johnny, this is Y/n,” the two approached a woman donning a labcoat that concealed her black button down and dress slacks. “She’s one of the engineers from MIT we met at the conference this past spring. She’ll be assisting and doing the final reports on our latest project with the foundation.”

Upon hearing Sue, her head lifted from the file she was currently nose deep in and addressed the siblings with a small smile, sending Johnny near comatose when he got a clear view of her. Often a pretty girl brought on that bravado personality he’d play into for PR purposes. But right now Johnny was at a loss of words.

She was a beauty unlike anything he’d ever seen. The type that made one do a double take when passing on the sidewalk or secretly let their eyes wander over when spotted in a cafe. His own did just that, cascading over her features to commit to memory from the color of her eyes to the tiny details of her visage. And when she extended a hand to him, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Storm,” Johnny’s caught the tiniest bit of black and red lines sneaking past the seam of her labcoat. 

Oh. Now he was even more intrigued. 

“Please, call me Johnny.” 

It wasn’t long before he discovered what truly laid beneath the seam of white material. Only two months later in August when Y/n ditched the coat in the lab and entered the lounge space to pour a cup of coffee and retrieve a muffin. Having been stuck in a lab all day and the summer heat pouring through the building, she had rolled up the sleeves of her button down just beneath her elbow revealing forearms painted with color. The right completely covered from the wrist upward to disappear under the blouse. The left with only a few small designs allowing some space of skin. 

“Woah,” Johnny stilled, unable to contain the reaction as he gawked at the various tattoos along her arms. He’d been speculating for a while since catching the ink the first time they met, but seeing it in the flesh sent a heat to his chest. A sudden urge to reach out and touch them. To run a finger along the lines and shapes. To feel the texture on his lips as he pressed kisses to each pattern.

He needed to fucking relax.

Y/n jolted, coffee spilling slightly onto the countertop, which made her let out a curse and rush to wipe with a paper towel. 

“Sorry,” he apologized with a wince, yet his gaze remained on her arms. Licking his lips that all of a sudden were dry, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright,” she waved a hand, unaware of his attention glued to said limb, occupied with cleaning the surface of the countertop. After throwing away the coffee-infused towel and washing her hands in the sink, Y/n patted them dry with a clean one and turned to face the superhero. “Just wasn’t expecting to have any company down here. Sue mentioned you all had a press conference today.”

He stepped closer, flicking his eyes to meet hers and praying the blush on his face was not noticeable. “We did. That was this morning---managed to wrap things up early.”

“Oh, that’s good news I assume.”

“Yeah,” a hand came up to scratch the back of his neck, pulling the collar slightly to get some airflow to his suddenly tight t-shirt. “Honestly Sue and Reed were the ones they really wanted to see. Ben and I could’ve just stayed back. Not like they needed all four of us there.”

Y/n raised a brow, lips curling up in a small smirk as she assessed him. The nervousness in his demeanor which was completely opposite to the reputation he held. Pink cheeks from the moment she caught him staring at her arms. Then of course how he desperately tried to make it look like he wasn’t staring by intently looking at her face or anywhere other than where he really wanted to. 

The realization made her chuckle. She knew the effect her tattoos had on people when they saw them. Especially when she dressed the way she did with her office button downs and slacks. Occasionally she’d put on a skirt and show off the sword on her left calf and snake wrapped around her right leg. It threw people for a loop even though tattoos were becoming more and more popular with musicians and sports players getting them done. Not to mention the percentage of women having tattoos was still slim compared to men. 

It worried her the first time Sue and Reed caught sight of her tattoos. She’d been working on repairing a piece of equipment involving her using a blowtorch and face protection helmet so to make things easier she wore her lucky short sleeved coveralls. When they arrived unannounced, she immediately saw the way both their gazes fell on her full sleeve and patchworked covered arms. They were obviously surprised to see she was what one would call tatted. And for a moment the engineer felt a wave of dread. Fearing they’d want to part ways in their collaborative efforts and find someone more socially acceptable to work with. 

But Reed and Sue were not those types of people. They knew better than to believe a person’s physical appearance or how they expressed themselves influenced their work. They simply asked her how things were going and if they could be of any help. 

Now here was Johnny. The man who’d make flirty comments anytime they were in proximity that made her roll her eyes despite the warmth it brought to her chest, in stunned disbelief. Clearly fascinated by the awe-struck expression he displayed, causing a slight boost in her self-esteem. 

“Well, I’m sure your fan club will be pleased to have new Human Torch content rolling in soon,” she winked, turning back to making her beverage. That made his cheeks flare even more, his own smile threatening to form. 

He watched her silently as finished up, coffee mug and muffin in her hands as she made her way towards the lab. But before she disappeared around the corner, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder, sending him a smirk that nearly sent him to his knees.

You love how he’s so passionate about all the things he cares about, his enthusiasm so contagious, you’ve even bought a few books on astronomy for yourself, just so you’ll finally be able to add something to Johnny’s passionate explanations. 

You haven’t put your newfound knowledge to the test, though, figuring that tonight might be a good place to start. 

Tonight is reserved just for you and Johnny, just for stargazing. 

You’re not quite sure when your monthly stargazing dates actually became a thing, you only know that they did. 

The first date you two went on, you’d had dinner at a nice little restaurant, before Johnny walked you back home. You two had been talking animatedly, arguing whether The Beatles newest album, A Hard Day’s Night was better than their last, With The Beatles. (To this day, you still can’t agree on this question.) 

Suddenly, Johnny had lost track of what he was saying, trailing off distractedly. 

Confused, you’d followed his gaze up towards the sky. 

„Is that …“, he’d murmured, squinting and taking a few steps forward. „It looks like the little fox, but …“ 

Some more squinting, paired with a confused shake of his head, followed by a disbelieving laugh. „It is!“ 

Then, his gaze had landed on you again, and even though it was already dark outside, you could see the flush on his cheeks. 

He grimaced, running a hand through his short blond hair in distress. „I’m sorry!“ 

You smiled, shaking your head. „Don’t be.“ 

He returned your smile with a shaky one of his own. „No, I really am sorry, that was incredibly rude of me … here I am, on this wonderful date and yet all I could think about for a second is this rare constellation!“ 

Thinking about that moment still makes you smile warmly, even years later. Whenever this particular story of how you two have gotten together is talked about, though, Johnny still gets incredibly flustered, trying to defend himself. 

„The Little Fox! Ben, do you know how rare that constellation is?“, he said one time at Sunday night dinner. His outburst was followed with a bout of laughter from everyone else. 

„I mean, getting this distracted over a rare constellation is something you’d pretty much expect from Reed, but you, Johnny?“ 

Under the table, you’d squeezed his hand, offering a reassuring smile when your eyes met his bright blue ones. 

Later that night, lying in his bed, you’d taken his hand, supporting yourself on the elbow of your other arm to look at him. He’d been unusually quiet and brooding all night long, and you knew exactly what was bothering him. 

„You know that the others are just teasing you, right?“ 

Johnny scoffed, starting to say something, but you were quicker. 

„Johnny, I knew what I was getting myself into, dating a renowned astronaut, as Sue and Ben would put it. And I may not know all too much about space myself, but I love how passionate you are about it. That moment during our first date? I actually thought that was quite endearing. Adorable, even.“ 

In hindsight, you probably shouldn’t have used these exact words. Knowing Johnny, you should’ve known that they’d only end up getting to his head. 

But then, a lot of things tend to get to Johnny’s head pretty quickly, especially when it comes to you. Johnny loves space, and Johnny loves you and he loves being with you, yet he’s never entirely lost the cocky and flirty side to him. It’s yet another thing you love so much about him. 

The things you love about Johnny could probably fill the entire night sky. It’s a sappy thought, yet it’s true nonetheless, you think as you snuggle closer to Johnny, resting your head on his chest as you listen to him telling you about the Aquila constellation, your gaze following your linked hands he’s holding up to the night sky. 

„ - carried Zeus’ thunderbolt, but he’s also known for carrying Ganymede up to Mount Olympus …“, suddenly, Johnny trails off, sighing. 

„I’m sorry. I’m probably boring you to death …“, he says, eyes meeting yours for a split second, before looking up at the night sky. 

„What? No!“, you protest immediately, raising your head from his chest and sitting up again. „I could listen to you talk about space and night sky constellations for-“

„I mean, I get it, having to listen to all of this over and over again-“

„Johnny“, you interrupt him, your voice stern. Your eyes find his, and you hold his gaze, squeezing his hand for good measure, hoping that you’ll get your point across. „I love listening to you talk about space and rare constellations in the night sky and foreign galaxies and everything else. Really, I do. I love how excited you get about a rare constellation, I could listen to you talk about the Little Fox or Cygnus for hours, I-“

„Really?“, he says. 

You raise your eyebrows in irritation. He sounds far too happy and his grin is far too confident and cocky, considering how unsure of himself he sounded just a mere moment ago. 

You roll your eyes, sighing in exasperation. „Johnny …“ 

Johnny only smirks, laughing when he sees your irritated expression. 

„You know how much I love receiving compliments, especially when they’re coming from you“, is all he says, before stealing a quick kiss from your lips. 

Your eyes find his bright blue ones again and you find that you simply can’t stay mad at him. 

„Idiot“, you say, an affectionate smile on your lips, before leaning down to kiss him again. 

After breaking the kiss, Johnny just shrugs, smirking up at you. „Yes, but I’m your idiot. I’m the idiot you love.“ 

You roll your eyes at him again, but, well - you can’t really argue with that. 

Sighing, you lower yourself down, until your head is resting on his chest again. Johnny presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head, before reaching for your hand and intertwining your fingers again. 

„Sometimes I truly wonder how you managed to get that degree“, you tease him. 

Johnny just laughs. „It’s all part of the charm, sweetheart …“ 

„Sure it is …“, you agree, smile on your lips. 

For a moment, you just lie there, gazing up at the starry night sky as you listen to Johnny’s steady heartbeat. 

Then, something else catches your attention, and you shift a bit, trying to focus your gaze on- 

Could it really be?, you wonder, once again sitting up. Because you spotting the rare constellation that Johnny spotted during your very first date is a cliché with a pretty bow on top and then some, but as you focus your gaze on the stars in the night sky, you see that you’re not wrong. It truly is Vulpecula, the Little Fox. 

„Look, Johnny“, you whisper, squeezing his hand before reaching up towards the night sky with your intertwined hands. 

„Wha-“

Even without looking at him, you can pinpoint the exact moment Johnny spots the constellation. His breath hitches before he laughs lightly in disbelief. 

He squeezes your hand. „It’s-“

You nod, turning to look at him. „Vulpecula“, you say, at the same time as Johnny says „the Little Fox.“ 

„Located in the middle of the Summer Triangle“, you continue, smiling when you see Johnny’s eyes widen. „The first pulsar was discovered just recently by Jocelyn Bell in Cambridge-“

„Wait“, Johnny interrupts you, shaking his head. „How- I - how?“

You laugh. „I ordered a copy of that one astronomy book you always talk about for myself, to - to be able to contribute to the conversation. Like I said, I love how much you love space, how passionate you are about it, Johnny.“ 

Johnny’s gaze softens, and he leans forward, kissing you softly. „I love you so damn much, you - you’re amazing.“ 

You smile, resting your head on his shoulder. „I love you too, Johnny.“ 

A beat, then: „But just so you know: I’m going to brag about what you’ve just said until we’re old and gray.“ 

You can’t help but laugh. „Well, otherwise you wouldn’t be Johnny Storm.“ 

divider @uzmacchiato

not me writing about Johnny's warm brown eyes, until I remembered that Joe Quinn wore blue contacts for the movie lol

All things considered. 

“I would’ve been there for you,” pausing, he pressed his lips to her shoulder. “I would’ve raised hell against those people for what they did to you.” Another kiss to her shoulder, voice dropping an octave as the emotion seeped out of him. “I hate that you went through that alone.”

Closing her eyes, she focused on the feeling of his breath on her skin, the softness of his hair against her fingers, the tense muscles of his back she worked to smooth. Willing the painful memories to remain at surface level and not consume her entire being. “Unfortunately, my experience is not uncommon for mutants in my world,” she sighed, trailing her hand to the nape of his neck as his hand gripped her hip. “People fear what they don’t understand. It’s something I’ve had to accept the hard way, but….” her voice was steady, yet carried the weight of each word. “You learn with time.”

 “That doesn’t excuse their shitty behavior.”

 “No, it doesn’t,” she agreed, leaning an inch to kiss his hairline to calm him down. He always got worked up when talking about the subject. Evident by the rise in temperature on his back. “But it does explain why my kind has had to deal with those kinds of people since scientists first discovered our gene.” For anyone who knew the woman and her past, her words were a far change from the perspective she had on humanity years prior. She’d come a long way from the angered teenager and young adult who simply upheld Xavier’s dream to self-serve her safety rather than play into it on her own devices. 

Who was she kidding? It was the man in her arms responsible for her new outlook on life. 

Despite coming from different universes, it didn’t matter how many times they’ve had the same conversation, Johnny always felt a deep heaviness when thinking about her past. The origin of her mutation that brought her to the X-Men and eventually to him.

At age eleven, her golden touch mutant gene unveiled in an unfortunate circumstance involving a childhood bully on a school trip to a water park. The bully, a rich boy with an eye for mischief and need for torment, dragged the girl to the top of a tower the dive board was after hearing she had a fear of heights and the deep end of the massive Olympic-sized pool. Several of their classmates, his friends, egged him on and laughed at the tears streaming down her face. She thrashed and pulled against his hold as he got her to the top and maneuvered her so her back was toward the end of the board. The ten foot drop ahead leading to 20 feet deep waters below.

It all happened so fast, no one could’ve predicted that when her fear morphed to anger, and her hands gripped his shoulders, that melted gold would pour from her eye sockets, leaving no trace of her pupils and consuming her entire body until it slipped through her fingertips to spread along every inch of his skin. Until a living boy no longer stood in his place…but a golden statue frozen in time. 

And when she let go of him, her pupils returned, as did the rest of her body. But he did not. Altering the life as she knew it into something she never could have imagined. 

She didn’t know she’d be a mutant. No one did. Like every other mutant in existence, the gene surfaced in response to stress and trauma. All she wanted was to pry him off her. However the reality was clear as day. She’d been born with the X-Gene, granting her the ability to transform her body into pure solid gold that gave her superhuman strength and durability, in addition to turning everything she touched into the mental substance.

And in the discovery, took the life of a child. 

The aftermath of what occurred that fateful spring day had been catastrophic. She became a target of media outlets across the globe. News stations broadcasted the story on repeat. Journals and newspapers ran press 24/7. Then because of the mere fact that objects she touched turned to pure solid gold, it didn’t take long for people to attempt to get their hands on the few things she managed to transform in the short time following the incident.

A big thanks to certified metallurgists for confirming the gold she produced was in fact real gold. 

Clothes, her shoes. The beach towel, the bench she sat on. Hell, even the diving board the water park cut down once they removed the golden boy’s body, was sought by greedy men and auctioneers. 

At lightning speed she became a liability. Her safety was threatened by those who saw her as a gold producing mine, and not the eleven year old girl carrying a trauma no other person could understand. 

On top of it all, her family was ostracized--her father losing his job and mother facing scrutiny from their peers. For they did not want to be associated with someone whose child committed an unthinkable act. The family of the boy demanded justice for their son, as the young girl could not reverse the effects of her power. Screaming things like, “Send her to the Vault!” and “Our son deserved to live and not die the way he did by the hands of a mutant!!”

Mutant. They hissed and spat as though the word was cursed. 

She felt cursed. Mind straying to the story of King Midas and his golden touch he came to view as a misfortune. To her, her powers fell under the same category. 

The family, as well as their supporters and haters of mutants, believed the act was intentional. That she chose to turn him into gold. Disregarding that she too, was a child, and was put in a place of immense stress. They chose to ignore the detail that the boy intended to push her off the diving board into the pool despite her objections. Witnesses to the event made statements, they included the facts, but the media pushed the narrative it was her fault. 

Charles Xavier knew the truth. It was why he offered to take in the young mutant when the government went undecided on what to do with her. “I believe the best possible route for her is to remain with people like her,” he told them at the congressional hearing. “What good is a young mutant just discovering their abilities, if they are not with those who can relate and be the support system to help them control it. Rest assured, my staff and I will do everything possible to make sure what happened never occurs again.” 

Despite their weariness and concerns, they agreed on the condition Xavier kept them informed on her progress. And so for the remainder of her childhood, well into her teenage years and ultimately into adulthood, she remained at the X-Mansion. Learning to control her abilities with the help of Professor X, Dr. Hank McCoy, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Logan Howlett, and Ororo Munroe. 

It took time, but eventually turning an object she touched into gold happened by her own will and not automatically like when her powers first emerged. In the beginning her body transforming into its golden form often happened during moments of stress and fear. Uncontrollable at first, but soon with the help of her fellow X-Men mentors—including the organic steel transforming mutant Colossus, she learned to bring forth the metal form upon her own command. 

Scott, Logan, and Ororo focused her training on hand-to-hand combat on an offense approach for when it came time to be in the field. They taught her to fight. How to go by an attack and to catch the enemy off guard. “Listen, Goldilocks,” Logan would say with a cigar attached to his lips, smoke in the air, “just because you’ve got a mean swing when you go metal doesn’t mean you only rely on your fists. Anything you grab can become a wicked fastball to throw the enemy off from a distance.” 

Jean and Professor X, on the other hand, prioritized her wellbeing. Using a defensive tactic, they taught her how to control her powers so they may not risk hurting innocent people. As for Hank, he used his genius mind to study her powers and report progress. Not to mention creating an entire wardrobe for her when she first moved in that wouldn’t turn to gold when she put them on. And once she got the green light from Scott and Charles, Hank designed her signature X-Men suit consisting of black and yellow with a plated red belt.  

Hence, the X-Men Midas was born. 

Together with her fellow mutants, Midas battled Sentinels, the Friends of Humanity, Magneto and his Brotherhood of Mutants as well as Apocalypse and his Horsemen. She narrowly survived the destruction of Genosha, lost more friends than she could count, and dealt with the repercussions of her past daily. 

It’s no wonder she built a wall around her heart. Thick like a block of 24 karat gold. And why she carried a boatload of anger everywhere she went. Often complaining about humans who put their lives at risk that they have to save and get no appreciation for. Keeping her thoughts and opinions of Magneto and Charles to herself, because if she were being honest, part of her understood Magneto’s mindset.

With each passing year, and each attempt on her life, Midas felt that anger grow. She did well of masking it, but there was a reason she didn’t bother with human-mutant relations like Xavier, Scott, and Jean. Why she trusted no one other than the X-Men. Who in the universe could relate to all she went through? 

Johnny Storm loved gold. Gold jewelry, gold accessories. Gold paint on walls and detailing. He was even dubbed America’s golden boy by media outlets after he and his family got their powers from their space exploration trip gone awry. Blonde hair, sun-kissed skin, flames of bright orange and yellow. He was golden. 

But when the Fantastic Four raced to save Franklin from the malicious Dr. Doom, trailing him across the multiverse until they reached Earth-616, the man made of fire met his match with the woman made of gold. 

He probably should’ve predicted it. After all, he did get the hots for a silver surfing alien four years prior. Least to say, the moment his eyes laid on the golden goddess before him, he was captivated.

Now, let’s be real, they say first impressions mean everything and theirs was unlike anything they could’ve imagined. Having allied themselves with the Avengers—new and old, depending on who asks--the last thing on the Fantastic Four’s mind was running into more enhanced heroes pulled into the sacred timeline. And it was all thanks to Reed’s multiversal tracking device.

“I’m picking up a signal in the East Canadian region,” he announced, “A cluster of points not far from the border. Their readings suggest,” the area between his brows pinched, “that they're not from here.” It was his glance upward to look at Sue, worry in his gaze before flickering to Sam. “Like us.” 

There was no hesitation from the Captain, “Let’s go.” 

The team responding to the signal consisted of Johnny, Ben, Reed, Sam, Joaquin, Yelena, Ava, and Walker. Sue stayed behind with the others, tracking Doom and stressing to pinpoint where he took Franklin. 

“Two miles out,” came Ben’s voice from the cockpit, causing Johnny to look away from his tablet to glance out the window, spotting a remote location in the middle of nowhere. Appearing to be an abandoned warehouse near a lake surrounded by the woods. “Doesn’t look like much if I’m being honest. Reed, you sure this is it?”

“Positive,” the genius replied, checking the coordinates before coming up beside the rocked man. “The multiversal energy levels coming from here are staggering.”

“Well, whoever you’re picking up is obviously hiding.” 

Johnny put the tablet down, leaning over Ben’s chair to see the view, resulting in his eyes to squint when he caught a dark blob in the distance. “What the hell is that?” Upon the words leaving his mouth, he felt the presence of Sam and Yelena approach beside him, the former’s gaze following Johnny’s where he ordered Ben to get closer. 

“Aye, aye, Captain.” 

Landing, the blob formed into the clear image of an unusual aircraft with little to no markings indicating who it might’ve belonged to. No flag, no insignia. Just sleek black metal with large engines that thinned towards the cockpit. 

‘Weird,’ Johnny thought to himself as he stepped off the ramp of the Quinjet, scouting the area. What was an odd-looking jet doing in the middle of the Canadian woods? And where were the ones who put it there?

He’d find out soon enough. 

The owners of the jet, in fact, were a group of multiversal travelers from another world. And where Johnny and his fellow Avengers got their powers through accidents and lab mishaps, this team of enhanced heroes were born with theirs. They were mutants.

While Johnny was occupied battling a guy with a Cajun accent and playing cards he made go boom, Reed got caught dealing with a blue teleporter and teeth sharp like vampire fangs. Then you had Sam and Joaquin fighting a man wearing a visor matching his bright blue and yellow suit. Yelena in a 1v1 with another blue individual, who nearly made her shit her pants when they shapeshifted into Natasha. Ava and Ben against, yet again, a blue man this time with fur all over his body. And finally, Walker engaged in a heated exchange with…a woman made of gold?

At first, she looked normal. And Johnny would be lying if he said he didn’t do a double take when his eyes landed on her in the 30 seconds prior to the fight breaking out. Her black and bright yellow suit, similar to her peers, caught his immediate attention. As did the red plated belt barreling a distinct ‘X’, however, his focus shifted rather quickly by the sudden battle when neither side stood down and presented immediate threats to each other. But when Johnny managed to get the upper hand over the purple suited, pole swinging man, he caught the exact moment the mystery woman’s skin transformed. 

Walker swung his shield, hoping to knock her off her feet, surprised she kept up with him in the first place, only for his eyes to widen in absolute astonishment upon her bare hands gripping the edge of the shield. But when his eyes landed on said hands…they reflected against the light in a golden shine. 

“What the fu…” his voice echoed, causing Johnny to snap his head in their direction, where his own eyes grew in size as he watched in real time as the metal ran up her arms, encased her neck before swallowing her visage whole. Almost in slow motion, like an intense scene from a movie, the way the gold seemed to pour out of her like liquid until it solidified, turning her into a walking statue. No trace of whites or pupils in her eyes. The color of her hair molding into a sleek shape. The only remaining untouched was her suit. 

Only it didn’t end there. Once the immediate shock barely wore off, it returned tenfold when they noticed the gold continued to pour from her fingertips. Walker’s shield transforming before their eyes. 

“Oh shit!” The super soldier’s shout bounced off the walls, removing his hold off the object to take several steps back and see the last bit of red and black vanish. Before he could react, however, she launched forward, grabbed a hold of his neck, lifting him off the ground and sent him flying toward the wall, causing a loud groan to escape him. He got up, ready for the next attack, but Walker dropped to his knees in a haste as she spun 360 and flung the now pure gold shield in his direction. Embedding it into the brick wall with a rumbling crack that shook the foundation of the building, causing everyone to stop what they were doing. Freezing mid-battle. 

“Well that’s not something you see every day,” Joaquin panted with a wince, having met the harsh ground moments prior from dodging an optic blast. 

Everything slowed down. Sam and Scott talked on behalf of their teams, as did Reed, who explained they tracked the group by the trans-dimensional energy they produced. That’s where the Avengers and Fantastic Four officially learned the name of their new guests. 

“We’re the X-Men.” 

“Why the X,” Johnny asked before he could stop himself, noting the distinct X on all their suits, not just hers. Just like he and his family had the large 4 splattered across their chests.

“Because we carry the X-Gene,” the man they called Beast declared. And when he caught their confusion, he added with uncertainty of how their reaction was going to go. “Our powers come from a mutation in our DNA--a mutation we’re born with. In our world, we call it the X-Gene. Hence,” a blue hand motioned at his fellow mutants. “The X-Men.” 

‘Fitting,’ Johnny thought, nodding to the man. “That’s cool.” The compliment didn’t really have its effect, as he heard the light scoff from the woman as well as some pinched expressions from the rest of them.

“Cool,” she repeated with distaste, like the word physically stung her. She then lifted her gaze from the floor to land on Johnny, who tilted his head perplexed by the sudden shift in the atmosphere. “I take it neither in this world—nor yours as your friend,” she lifted a lazy finger at Reed, “has mentioned—have people like us?”

While Johnny shook his head, Sam answered along the same lines, “No, we do not.”

“So all of you,” a golden hand flickered at the crowd, specifically the ones with obvious powers as her voice rose an octave. “Got what makes you special by some flux. Freak accidents—lab experiments gone wrong—or just by the grace of some God?” 

No one answered. The question itself rhetorical and able to answer itself by their expressions and shuffle of body language indicating they felt the unease flood the space. That was enough for her to scoff, louder this time, and click her tongue. Beside her the teleported, a man calling himself Kurt Wagner, gave her a knowing look. 

“Wow,” she exasperated, arms crossed tight around her chest as she stood tall and guarded, clearly vexed by the silence. Though her eyes were still encapsulated by metal, it was obvious had her pupils been visible, they would’ve been narrowed into slits. “How nice you all must have it.”

What was that supposed to mean? 

“Midas,” Scott scolded the woman, who’d now shifted back to her normal physique and sent a scowl, stopping Johnny from asking the question on his mind as he processed the name Scott addressed her as. 

“I’m just making an observation, Scott.” 

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“And?” she hissed, throwing her arms out in frustration. “So what if I am?”

Scott stepped closer to her, voice dropping like a stern father reprimanding his daughter. The others couldn’t hear what was said, but by the way she tensed up and glared at the man, they could only guess. As Scott stepped away, she simply huffed, crossing her arms back over her chest and pivoting so her side was facing the Avengers. Not wanting to look at them any longer. 

Eventually, after much debate and deliberation from each side, the X-Men agreed to follow the Avengers and Fantastic Four to the WatchTower where they would continue the pursuit against Doom, who they linked was responsible for the mutants for dropping into Earth-616, much like the Four. It was unclear why Doom targeted the X-Men, but they were determined to find out. 

Now joined together on a race against time to save Franklin Richards and the multiverse, the teams exhausted their resources from all angles. They spent time learning about each other, drawing strategy, splitting up on multiple coverts when they got a lead. Sure there were times where they butt heads--specifically Sam, Bucky, Reed, and Scott--but they worked well together. And most of them were welcoming toward one another. 

Key word: most. 

“So like….” Johnny shuffled on his feet, arms crossed as he stood beside Midas--ignoring Ben’s warning look--who mirrored his position, the two off to the side while the leaders of the teams paced around the middle of the lounge to discuss tactics. Except that while Johnny’s demeanor resembled his usual, suave self, she stood cold and reserved. “Is the name Midas in reference to--.”

“The King who could turn anything he touched into gold,” she cut him off with a deadpan tone while continuing to stare ahead. “Yes, it is.” 

Johnny assessed her profile, giving a short nod. He didn’t compliment it, despite finding the name clever and interesting. Learning his lesson from earlier when he found the X-Men’s origin of powers cool. “And you can--.”

“Turn anything I want into gold. Including my whole body.”

“Does it feel weird when you do it?”

“Does it feel weird when you set yourself on fire?” Annoyance laced her tone, but Johnny didn’t falter. 

“At first, yeah it’s sorta ticklish,” if he heard the way she breathed heavily though her nose, he chose to ignore it and continued, “Now it just feels part of me.” No response followed, but he did notice how her shoulders dropped slightly, face losing the pinched expression as though she understood the statement. “Is it like that for you?”

“Yes,” she finally said after a moment, but still refused to look at him. 

There had to be some sort of irony in the fact Johnny Storm found yet another metallic woman insanely attractive that he wanted to get to know even though it was painfully obvious she wanted nothing to do with him. He wanted to melt down her cold, metal walls and discover the heart of gold she probably was hiding. 

Holding back his smile, Johnny saw the shift in body language as his first step to victory. And he adjusted his own position, turning back to the scene in front of them. 

If there was one thing Johnny Storm enjoyed, it was a challenge. He thrived in the adrenaline and thrill of succeeding and he saw that with Midas. ‘I’ll get through to her,’ was the final thought before he accepted his new mission. ‘I know I will.’

Hours later Johnny was walking back to his assigned room when his ears picked up on voices in the nearby corridor. Unable to ignore his curiosity, Johnny paused and headed toward the direction of the noise. Light on his feet, he pressed his back against the wall adjacent and listened closely. 

“Look, I’m as clueless as you on how long this is going to last,” Scott drawled in a low voice to whoever he addressed. “It could be days, weeks, months--hell we might even be here for years. So whatever you have against them, Midas--,” Johnny stiffened at the reveal, rethinking his decision as he knew what he was doing was morally wrong, but the blonde couldn’t help himself. “You need to put it away. Otherwise you can sit this out.”  

 “I don’t have anything against them, Scott,” the lie fell flat that even Johnny caught it. 

“And the sky is red,” Scott scoffed, “You’re fooling no one and we can’t afford to have any tension amongst ourselves with what’s to come. As far as I can see, we can trust them.” 

“Did you already forget this morning?” 

“That was a mutual attack on both sides. They were doing their job as protectors of this world--like us, Midas. If we were back home and the roles were reversed, we would’ve done the same.” 

She huffed, clearly not impressed by the defense despite the man being right. “Forgive me for not jumping for joy at the idea of us working together. For Christ’s sake, Scott--mutants don’t exist here! How are we supposed to trust they won’t turn on us--or-or suddenly feel threatened by our existence and want us gone?”

Johnny heard the frustration combined with the underlying fear in her tone. As though the assumption was layered with experience, causing the blonde to frown. What exactly did she mean? That they’d be threatened by their existence--enough to want to betray them? In their world were super powered people not worshiped like he and his family were? From the sound of it, he suspected the reality was far from his own experience. 

Suddenly it all made sense why she reacted angrily to his remark. And why the others looked uncomfortable. 

“They’re not going to do that--.”

“You don’t know that, Scott!” 

“It’s not sunshine and rainbows for them like you think--they’ve dealt with horrible things because of who they are and what they do.” 

“I highly doubt they’ve had to fight machines built with the sole reason to exterminate them.” 

The air around Johnny seemed to disappear, his breath hitching so fast he had to rush a hand to his mouth to stop the sound from escaping. His entire face consorting to absolute horror. Machines? Exterminate mutants? He couldn’t believe what he’d heard--unable to even picture what she was describing. Attempting so brought a chill down his spine, a rare feeling given his blood boiled like lava. 

Barely processing the revelation, the shock continued as he listened to the conversation, thankful they had yet to discover he was there. 

“Midas,” Scott’s sigh was full of tiredness, mixed with dejection. “I understand your anger, believe me, I do. You’ve gone through things not many mutants have or will ever experience. And after Genosha--.”

“Don’t,” she hissed, and Johnny picked up the tremor she held. 

“You have every right to be,” Scott fought his own emotions, the memories of that fateful evening clear in his mind. “We all lost a piece of ourselves that day--some more than others.” Some meaning her. The period of darkness that swallowed her whole following the tragedy lasted months. “But this--this blame you’re unfairly putting on these people is not going to help you heal or benefit this team. I need to know that I can count on you.”

“You can,” her insistence sounded strained.

“Can I, Midas?”

There was a pause from the woman, and Johnny assumed the question was a slap in the face coming from the man she looked up to. “Scott, when have I ever let you down?” she finally found her voice, unable to hide the defeat, causing Johnny to feel a tightness in his chest. He waited with anticipation for Scott’s answer. 

“You never have,” there was pride in the response, and Johnny pictured the visor wearing man offering a small smile despite their heated exchange still lingering. 

“Exactly. I’ve never let you down. I didn’t with Apocalypse, I didn’t with Trask,” a slight pause before she finished, “and I didn’t after Genosha. So, I’ll do what I have to do, because our team,” the X-Men she was referring to. Johnny didn’t have to be a genius to get the implication. “Is what matters to me. I’ll put my…differences aside. But don’t expect me to be buddy-buddy and pretend we’re all best friends, alright?” 

“I’m not asking you to be best friends, Midas,” Scott sighed, “But I am asking you to be civilized.”

“Fine,” she huffed like a full blown child. “I’ll be civilized. Have some fucking faith in me, Scott.” Letting out another sound that came off as a huff mixed with a grunt, Johnny heard her stomp away from Scott. 

“Midas--!” He tried to stop her from leaving, but the golden mutant sped off in the opposite direction, her footsteps growing faint. 

Johnny finally let out the breath he was holding, careful to muffle the sound as best he could as he processed all the information he discovered. Talk about bombshells dropped. Extermination machines? Genosha? What was Scott talking about, and why did it bring an unsettling pit to Johnny’s stomach. Part of him didn’t want to find out.

And just when he thought he could relax, he heard footsteps heading in his direction, Scott coming down the hall after failing to stop Midas. Panicked and with no way to escape without giving himself away, Johnny shuffled on his feet like a maniac and contemplated his options only to freeze when Scott turned the corner.

“Jesus,” a gloved hand clamped to his chest, heart racing with adrenaline as Johnny started to stutter, hands raised in defense and face flamed red from embarrassment and shame for getting caught red handed. 

“I-I-I--.”

“Have you been there this whole time?” 

Johnny swallowed thickly, offering a hesitant nod, “I promise--I didn’t intend to--I was-was heading to my room and I…overheard you two,” Johnny lowered his hands, expression apologetic as his own heart rate increased. “I’m sorry, Scott--I know it was wrong--.”

“Johnny, It’s okay,” Scott waved a hand to calm him down. “I’m not mad, you just caught me off guard.” Letting out an exhale, Scott lowered his hand and assessed the blonde. “What all did you--.”

“Enough to understand why I offended you guys early.”

“No, Johnny, you didn’t…” Scott tried to say, but gave up as the words fell flat. Clearly Johnny heard the climax of the argument between the two mutants, and there wasn’t anything Scott could say that would try to brush the tension off. So instead he followed it up with, “Midas is...I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

“Scott, I should be the one apologizing--I’m the one who eavesdropped!”

The older man let out a low chuckle, “Well, we weren’t exactly being quiet. If it wasn’t you it was going to be someone else.”

“Still it was a private conversation, I should’ve kept walking…I was just--.”

“Curious?” Scott finished for him with a knowing smirk, causing Johnny’s face to redden once more as he sent a slow nod. Not bothering to deny the accusation. “I don’t blame you. But if I’m being honest, you’re lucky it was me who caught you and not Midas.”

“I take it she’d have kicked my ass?”

“More like she’d be tempted to turn you into gold,” Scott retorted with a clap to the blonde’s back, gently pushing him to start walking down the hallway. “Something she hasn’t done to a living person in years.” The emphasis brought a chill down Johnny’s spine. Realizing the extent of Midas’ powers go beyond what he initially thought. It wasn’t just her body she had the ability to transform, as well as objects, into gold. 

She could do it to humans.

Johnny had so many questions on his mind, his expression unable to mask the interest that Scott saw right through and took it upon himself to explain to Johnny the depth of he and Midas’ conversation. Filling in the holes as to why she perceived the Avengers a certain way. Scott told him about the Sentinels--the machines created by Dr. Bolivar Trask to hunt down mutants, including his chief Master Mold. How the X-Men have been fighting the Sentinels for decades as they keep reemerging despite the superheroes defeating them time and time again. 

Johnny had trouble swallowing that pill, only to feel the bile rise in his throat when Scott relayed the destruction of Genosha. “And she was there when it happened?” he whispered, voice cracking at the end as the emotion was too much to contain. How was one supposed to when they hear an entire island was wiped off the planet by wild machines programmed to exterminate a species. 

“Midas never agreed with the forming of Genosha,” Scott explained, leaning his arms on the railing of the balcony the two stood on. “She had her opinions and thoughts. The country already had a dark history, and then you had Magneto rallying for it to be a mutant-only nation.” He paused slightly, feeling the familiar grief pool in his stomach. “When they asked for representatives for the X-Men to attend a gala after the U.N. formally recognized Genosha, I told her to go--even though I knew she didn’t want to.”

Johnny heard the regret in his voice. The sadness, the pain. It pooled out of him like lava from a volcano. 

“I was supposed to be with them, but there was another commitment at the mansion they needed me for. I…” he let out a shaky breath, swallowing thickly, “nothing could’ve prepared us for what happened that day. Midas and Kurt were part of the lucky ones.”

The Human Torch walked away with a newfound respect for the golden mutant. As well as a deep found compassion for her and her fellow X-Men. They’d gone through unimaginable events. Survived inexplicable chaos. It’s no wonder Midas is distrusting of anyone who’s not like them. 

As the days drew into weeks, Johnny thought about that day on the balcony. It appeared in his mind each time he got close to Midas. Whether that be the two standing next to each other or tasked together on expeditions with their teammates. And as the two interacted more, that curiosity in Midas turned into a full-blown crush that had the once most eligible bachelor in America acting like a teenage boy wanting to impress a girl for the first time. 

Holding the elevator door open when he caught her heading toward it. Taking the open seat next to her in the conference room or simply shuffling over to the corner she’d taken claim to. He’d offer to get her coffee, or volunteer to join her when she’d go to the training rooms. And unbeknownst to Midas, Johnny picked up on cues that made him fall for her even more. Like how she stared out the windows of the WatchTower to watch the citizens below, holding back a smile when she saw a school bus full of kids peering up at the building in wonder. How she’d leave the last pastry for Gambit or Sue when she likely wanted it for herself. Sarcastic remarks under her breath that left Joaquin and Shuri stifling a giggle. Or the way she picked up after people’s trash when they were too distracted to notice. 

But Johnny noticed. He saw everything. The softened features. The hidden interest. The mask she bore to protect her heart. 

It was painfully obvious to everyone besides Midas that Johnny Storm was smitten with her. From the, “Good morning, Midas,” every day to, “I saved you a plate of Ben’s homemade ravioli,” there was no question about his feelings. Then there was the fact whenever she addressed him by a name other than his own--which was pretty much everyday--he’d blush like a schoolboy. 

Flame. Torch. Hot-Head. Supernova. Star-Boy (his personal favorite). All spoken with sarcasm, but it did nothing to deter him. 

Sue and Ben clocked it from the first day when Johnny strategically maneuvered himself to stand next to her during the first debrief as a conjoined team. Scott and Hank got their suspicions from Johnny’s lingering gazes when she entered a room, plus the many questions he had regarding her. Gambit and Kurt, her closest friends, made slick comments like, “I did not know you adopted a golden retriever puppy, mon ami,” or, “Schatz, you seem to be glowing brighter than the sun lately.” 

For Midas, however, the behavior Johnny exhibited left her confused. And it didn’t help that she initially found the walking fire hazard annoying. Like a bug she was unable to swat away--or a stain too stubborn to be removed. His boyish charm and sharp wit combined with his constant flirtatious remarks paired with winks told her everything she needed about what he was like in his home universe. 

A playboy, with an ego the size of a supernova.   

“What’s your deal, Torch?” She finally confronted him after weeks of him following her like a shadow. Continuing his pursuit despite her jabs and attempts to shake him off. 

“What do you mean?” He played dumb, leaning against the wall she shoved him into after she dragged his ass out of the lounge to get away from prying ears. 

“The compliments? The winks--the suave lines you keep trying to pull on me,” her eyes narrowed, practically hissing the words out. “Why are you so determined to get a rise out of me?” She didn’t miss the way his expression, once playful, softened at the accusation.

“I’m not--I’m not trying to get a rise out of you, Midas.”

“Then why does it feel like you are!” 

“I--I,” he stuttered, ears pink but thankfully the flush of his neck was hidden by the turtleneck of his suit. “Look, I promise I’m not trying to be an asshole or piss you off. I just…” The confession was on the tip of his tongue. Screaming at him to cave in and tell her what he’d been feeling the past couple weeks. And with the way she was staring at him, the fire he held ignited so deep he ended up blurting out, “Go out with me,” without thinking, earning a wide-eyed, gaping reaction.

“Have you lost your damn mind?” Well that certainly wasn’t the response he usually garnished, but there was no going back now.

“Far from it actually---although when this whole multiversal excursion started I did start to think so..”

She breathed hard through her nose, eyes closing as she focused on calming her heartrate, “There--there’s no way you’re serious--.”

“Is it so hard to believe I might have feelings for you, Midas?” Johnny offered a small smile, aware it was a lot for her to process and therefore he needed to be patient with her. After all, the confession came out of left field, at least from her point of view. 

“Considering I’ve done nothing remotely warm and inviting to warrant this…” she waves a dramatic hand, “Affection…yeah, I am a little surprised.” Did he really observe her cold-hearted bitch behavior and think, ‘Damn, I want that,’ or was he breathing in one too many fossil fuels from the jet engines of the Excelsior and X-Jet?

Turns out, he did want that. 

“Let me prove to you I’m serious.”

“And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” her hands rested on her hips, assessing him with a raised brow. 

“Go on a date with me,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which in his eyes, it was. 

“Johnny, we are in the middle of tracking a madman from your universe. I don’t see how we’re supposed to put a pause on that and go on a date.” 

“We don’t. We wait until we beat Doom, and then we go on a date. Until then I flirt with you and you pretend you don’t enjoy it when secretly you find me irresistible and are just too prideful to admit it.” He finished with a grin, the complete opposite to her absolute stunned expression. “Simple as that.”

“Simple?” She repeated with an exaggerated tone, like she couldn’t process what he was saying despite the words being straight forward and not embedded with riddles. “We are way past simple with everything you just said.” The fact she didn’t deny his claim of finding him irresistible was telling, but Johnny didn’t comment on it. 

She was about to turn on her heel and leave him right there in the hallway when he stopped her. “Then how about this,” he gently offered, bringing her attention back to him with a light touch to her forearm. “My prediction after we defeat Doom--which we will--they’re obviously going to plan some kind of celebration to honor us for our achievement.” 

He was met with a slow nod and roll of the eyes, indicating she knew where he was heading, “Your point?”

Johnny’s grin burned brighter. Teeth flashing as he mentally applauded himself for succeeding in the goal he set out weeks prior that started with an annoyed huff and eyeroll. He finally melted those golden walls. 

“What do you say about being my date to our expected ‘Congrats on defeating Dr. Doom and saving the multiverse,’ celebratory gala?”

~~~~~~~~~~

The ability to breath completely vanished the moment Johnny laid eyes on Midas as she descended the spiral staircase alongside Ava, donned in a mesmerizing gold dress sparkling like a million stars in the galaxy. Tight around her chest, which was accented by the deep neckline trailing her sternum, it had long sleeves and flowed out as it went down past her knees, paired with matching heels. Her hair was styled and her makeup was simple yet elegant. Little to no jewelry save for some stud earrings and a few rings on her fingers. 

“Yo, Matchstick, you good there?” Ben nudged the blonde when he suddenly stomped rambling, following his gaze to which the rocked hero uttered, “Oh.” The rest of the group the two were huddled with by the bar, Walker, Joaquin, and M’baku, all started chuckling at the lovesick expression on Johnny’s face. 

“Did it suddenly get hot in here?”

“Yeah,” Walker mused, “It does feel a bit warm now that I think about it.” 

“Hey, Johnny, think you can tone down the heat? I’m sweating through my suit.” 

“Yeah, yeah, sure buddy,” Johnny waved off, downing the remaining of his glass before pushing it into Ben’s hand and hurrying toward the bar where she stood. Bypassing Sue and Shuri, the former giving him an odd look reading, ‘What the hell?’ which quickly shifted to understanding when she caught Midas at the bar.

“Finally,” she muttered with a pleased smile around the rim of her glass, but not before clicking in with Shuri’s, who mirrored her expression. 

At the bar and unaware of the hot-headed blonde speeding toward her, Midas greeted the bartender and gave off her order, “Hendricks gin martini, extra dirty with three olives please.” 

“Coming right up.” 

Thanking him, she leaned her forearms onto the smooth white quartz bar top and scanned her surroundings. It was a stellar sight to behold, the WatchTower loft lounge decorated with fairy lights and chandeliers. Packed to the brim with superheroes, family members, and politicians. Everywhere she looked she saw people engaging in conversation over cocktails and finger foods. The DJ, booked by Alexei, had his own booth near the makeshift dancefloor where Gambit, Kurt, and Shang-Chi had already taken claim to.

“You know, I always gravitated toward silver,” the teasing voice brought her out of her thoughts, heart skipping a beat as she turned to be greeted with the charming smile that was Jonathan Lowell Spencer Storm. “Thought it brought out my eyes more. But I have to say…” said sapphire eyes traveled down the length of her figure unapologetically, “there’s just something so bewitching about gold when it hits the light.”

Straightening her posture as she faced him, Midas controlled her expression from showing that his words did in fact affect her. Heat flaring her body like the sun on a summer day. “Well don’t you clean up nice, Star-Boy.” 

Johnny’s hand went to the collar of his suit blazer, adjusting it while never straying his gaze, “I can say the same ‘bout you, Midas. Was gold always your color before your mutation surfaced?” 

“Considering I was eleven years old when it surfaced, I doubt it.”

When the bartender placed her drink down, Johnny quickly went, “Bulliet, neat my friend,” and the bartender quickly went to work, leaving the two. 

“Didn’t pay you to be a bourbon guy,” she observed nonchalantly. 

“What did you pay me to be?” 

“On the line of a basic vodka soda,” Johnny made a sound of offense, grin widening as he thanked the bartender and accepted the glass. Her own lips curled up, eyes drawing with curiosity as she watched him lift his glass toward her and gently tapped them together. “We toasting or something?”

“Yes we are,” they both raised their drinks to take a sip, not wincing at all when the burn of the alcohol hit the back of their throats. “You owe me a date.”

“Is that so?” she mused, maintaining the intense eye contact he refused to break. “Please remind me where I agreed to that.”

“When I asked you to accompany me to this,” he motioned to their surroundings. “I initially asked that after we defeated Doom--which we have successfully done--we’d go on a proper date. I’ve kept up my promise of charming you every chance I get,” he winked, “and you’ve kept up pretending it doesn’t phase you. But let’s be real, we both know you secretly find me irresistible.” She scoffed lightly paired with a light roll of the eyes which only amused Johnny. “Am I wrong?”

Quiet for a moment as she sipped her martini, Midas pivoted on her heel to press her back against the counter of the bar. Breaking away from his gaze to glance out to the center of the gala. “I will neither agree nor disagree to that assumption, Storm.”

Johnny went to speak, but was interrupted by none other than the Cajun card master himself, cocktail in hand “well well well, looks like Rogue and I are not the only ones fashionably late to this fais do-do.”

Midas lowered her martini, letting out an amused scoff, “please, I was only ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes is enough to think you were skipping out on us tonight, mon ami. Ain’t that right, Johnny Boy?”

Johnny sipped his drink, lips curling in a smirk as he answered, “Oh I was confident our dear Midas would show.” His eyes flickered between the two, before settling on the woman. “After all, she never breaks her word.”

“No, Midas does not,” Gambit mused, proudly clapping Johnny on the shoulder. Understanding the context of Johnny’s words paired with his smug smile. “Well then, I’ll leave you two to it. Better find my other half before the Sazerac starts flowing too strong.” Raising a hand in salute, Gambit went on his way, “Laissez les bon temps rouler.”

“Bye, Remy,” Midas rolled her eyes, albeit playfully as she raised her glass back to her lips, watching him leave to find Scott and Kurt to mess with. 

Downing the rest of his glass, Johnny placed it on the bar top and stepped beside her, slipping an arm around her waist. “Dance with me.” A semi-slow song began to play, the mutant recognizing it as an old favorite of hers. Before she could refuse, Johnny grabbed her martini to sit on the bar top and guided her toward the dancefloor, where he positioned them with one hand on her mid back and the other interlacing their fingers.

She rested her freehand on his shoulder, aware of the drawn gazes they gathered from their fellow teammates, some of whom sent the mutant a cheeky grin and thumbs up. She ignored it for the first couple songs, before the constant accidental eye contact between her and several of the team became overwhelming for her own good. Like they were in on a secret she didn’t know about. 

“Why do I get the feeling our colleagues are getting a kick out of this?”

Johnny smirked, leading her into a soft sway in beat with the music. “Maybe because they all know I’ve been waiting for this moment for months.” 

Midas looked up at him with surprise at the unexpected confession, heart skipping once more as heat boiled in her chest. “Johnny--.”

“C’mon, Midas,” his chuckle was low and laced with nerves despite his beaming smile, “I’ve been chasing after you like a kicked puppy since you gave me the glare of a lifetime the first time we met. I haven’t exactly been shy about it.” He presses his hand on her lower back to inch her closer. “Everyone knows I’m…” he paused, tongue tracing his bottom lip as heat reached his ears. “I’m head over heels for you.”

There it was. The confession he’d been holding onto for months. The one which consumed his mind and had his family wondering what the hell happened to the once most desired bachelor who had no time for romance and relationships when he had the fate of the world in his hands. Who flirted with men and women alike, but always kept interest at arms length. 

That all seemed to change the moment the man of fire met the woman made of gold. 

Suddenly the air became hot, and not just because Johnny was emitting a bit of heat due to the anxiety he felt as he waited for her response. Midas herself felt a bubbling volcano in her stomach that erupted along her skin until her palms started to sweat. Unable to find her voice despite her mouth parting slightly from the gasp she released. 

Johnny waited, his own palms feeling clammy against the fabric of her dress and the one holding her own. For a moment they just stared at each other. The noise around them dampened, as though they were the only two in the room. 

“Midas,” he coughed, full of nerves. Realizing maybe it wasn’t a good idea to admit his feelings in the middle of the damn dance floor where their teammates surrounded them, causing his blush to deepen. “I should’ve waited ti’ll after--fuck I’m sorry. I-I get it if you don’t feel the same--.” His sentence was caught off when he felt her grip on his hand tighten followed by a gentle pull, coating him to follow as she led them off the dance floor and away from prying eyes. 

Johnny kept his eyes on the back of her head as they ascended the spiral staircase, only peering behind his shoulder to see if any of their friends were watching them escape the gala. Much to his relief, it appeared the only one noticing their Irish goodbye was his own sister, who caught the worried expression he wore and immediately mirrored it, but relaxed when he shook his head as if to say, “I’ll be fine, trust me.” 

They reached the top of the stairs to the overlooking floor, where Midas turned a corner where she knew a private balcony resided. The noise of the party soon became background noise, completely muffled by the sliding glass doors as the cool air hit Johnny the moment he stepped onto the terrace. 

She released his hand, feet carrying her to the edge of the balcony where she steadied herself on the railing, keeping her back toward him. For Johnny, all it did was intensify his nerves, fearing he ruined his chances as he took in her stiffened demeanor. 

Softly, he called out her name, “Please talk to me. If you don’t feel the same, tell me and I’ll turn around and we can pretend this never happened. I won’t pressure you--or-or bother you and give you all the space. Just please, don’t shut me out.”

A moment passed and then, “It’s not that I don’t feel the same, Johnny,” she finally breathed, and Johnny felt his heart skip, eyes widening slightly. “I…” peering over her shoulder, he caught the worry pooling in her beautiful face. “I’m scared.”

“Scared of what, baby?” The pet name fell naturally as he moved closer until he was directly beside her. She turned back to the overlooking city, glittering like stars from the array of lights.

“This. Us. Me. The world,” she blinked, voice beginning to waver. “I don’t….I don’t know how to--,” the words were a struggle to find. “Since my powers triggered it’s been one fight after another. Not just against bad guys, but a battle within myself. I’ve always kept people--even my teammates--at arms length because relationships of any kind are not permanent. My own parents…” she trailed off, the painful memory lingering in the air. Still, Johnny remained quiet, heart breaking when she whispered, “I don’t know how to let someone in.” 

He understood this was Midas being vulnerable, a rarity considering she’s always come off with a cold, no-nonsense exterior. Vulnerability was scary. Something she kept hidden and as a fellow superhero with expectations, Johnny related to the feeling of fear one gets when they expose themself. That doing so would only be dismissed. 

“Letting someone in is scary,” he agreed, tone gentle and comforting. “But we can take it slow,” he assured. “I know our lives are fast paced and hectic, but we don’t have to be that way. I care about you, Midas, and I want you to feel comfortable. Above all else, your feelings matter to me.”

“I’m too complicated, Johnny,” she tried to argue.

“So am I,” was his rebuttal, “let’s be complicated together.”

“It’s not that simple.” 

“I never said it was simple, Midas. Look at us,” he gestured with a gentle smile, “Who we are. What we do. I never thought when I got my powers that I’d be pulled into a whole different universe and meet people who I could finally relate to. I met you,” he inched closer, “and everything I once thought wasn’t possible, suddenly made sense.” 

His words affected her, teetering the edge of a love confession, sending another wave of heat in her chest as her heart began to pump rapidly. As much as she didn’t want to push him away, her mind was on overdrive. The hyperindependence she accustomed herself to since childhood kicking in and overriding her heart that called out to him. 

“Johnny, you have to understand that I am…” she let out a shuddered exhale, hands trembling which were soothed when he gently laid his own on top. “I am not someone who's easy to be with. I wake up at night in a panic--I-I shut down when I’m overwhelmed or I lash out--and I’ll lash out at you even when I don’t mean to.” Water brimmed her eyes, coated in a shine that was enhanced by the moonlight cascading down on them. “You got your powers by external factors out of your control,” she hated herself for going this route, but she had to get it off her chest, “and were well received. I was born this way, and have been scrutinized, discriminated against, and hunted for it. It’s shaped the way I am--it’s not all golden like your sister and Reed--or-or Gambit and Rogue. I’m consumed with rage half the time, Johnny. I am a mess,” the crack in her voice shattered Johnny. “You’d be saving yourself the difficulty and hurt you’ll get from dealing with me.”

Deal with her? That alone hurt Johnny, for he did not view his feelings toward Midas and all the walls she built for herself he wanted to guard as dealing with her. Would it be difficult? Maybe. But that’s what one does when they love someone. When they want to not break down the walls but simply hold them together as a unit. Earning their trust, guarding it. No one ever said love was easy, but when it’s with the right person, it’s as peaceful as the gentle waves of the ocean kissing the sand as it makes it to shore. 

Johnny wanted to be the one to bring her to the shore whenever the waves became too much. Even when her mind acted like a riptide and pulled her out at sea. She’d been through so much, it’s no surprise to him she’d attempt to push him away when he could see the conflict pooling in her eyes.  

Sensing this, Johnny took one hand in hers to pull her closer, the other cupping her cheek. His soft smile remained as his eyes filled with determination and warmth. “I’ll wake up with you to hold and remind you where you are. When you’re overwhelmed, I’ll be that calm presence. If you lash out then I’ll take it while you get it out of your system until you feel better.” Her bottom lip trembled; Johnny gently let his thumb brush over it. 

“I may not understand the full extent of everything you and your family have gone through, and God I probably never will,” The cold breeze disappeared as a comforting warmth spread across the terrace. “But I know one thing for sure: I will never, ever, let anyone hurt you like that again. So long as I breathe, anyone who thinks they can treat you differently because you were born different from them, born with gifts, will be given a healthy dose of flames.” The giggle mixed with her light sniffle was a reward in itself, Johnny bringing one of her hands up to his mouth to press a soft kiss to her knuckles, causing her to shudder. “I mean it, Midas. I want this--I want you. I’ll prove it every day if I have to, just give me a chance.” 

The seconds felt like a lifetime waiting for her answer. The golden mutant stared up at him with tear stained cheeks, unable to keep them contained when he let his heart speak the words he’d been waiting months for. And right when Johnny began to accept the silent rejection, his chest tightened, and warmth exploded within him from the way Midas tilted her head slightly to mold her lips to his palm still cradling her cheek.

One kiss. The two, before she withdrew and met his gaze once more. “You terrify me, Johnny Storm,” she admitted with a whisper, her breath heating his hand. “But I don’t want to hide away anymore, not when it comes to you.” Fingers trailed up his suit-cladded forearm, all the way up to his shoulder. “I want this, too,” she nuzzled against his touch, causing him to melt and hold her against him. “Just promise to be patient with me, please? I’m not as strong as I come off to be.” 

The grin on Johnny’s lips could not be suppressed, beaming bright like the sun as the sheer happiness soared within his veins. “Patience is my middle name,” he teased, earning a playful scowl. His tone then turned serious, “and baby, you don’t always have to be strong around me. I want to be the shoulder you cry on, the person you lean on when things get rough.” It took everything in him not to surge forward and bring Midas into a passionate kiss, but he held himself back, opting for a light peck to her forehead. “We take this slow like I promised, okay?”

She nodded against his hand, matching his awed expression as another wave of tears pooled in her eyes. “Okay.”

Okay. It was a promise. Hope for the future. For Johnny, it was everything.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” was his only warning before he sealed his lips onto hers, the mutant accepting it wholeheartedly with a light gasp followed by a chuckle. Arms moving to wrap around his heated neck while his hands stayed splayed on her cheek and lower back. 

Midas felt his smile against her lips, resulting in her own. The two remained like that on the terrace, tangled in each other's embrace while exchanging sweet, soft kisses while the rest of the world vanished around them. The party continued, several of their friends catching on to their disappearance, to which Gambit and Ben clinked their glasses together while Scott, Reed and Sue gave knowing looks. 

“About damn time,” Ben smiled around the rim of his glass. “Thought Matchstick was going to cop out tonight and miss his chance all together.” 

Gambit hummed, lips curling in a smirk, “Johnny Boy just needed a little push to get the ball rollin’. Not to mention the cards were in his favor,” for an added flare, the mutant spawned an Ace of Spades car from thin air. “After all,” his red irises twinkled, “Once you make contact, no one can resist the Midas Touch.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Look at me,” The demand earned him her breathless gasp, eyes peeling open to lock on his, which were filled with absolute devotion. “I’ve got you,” one hand cradled her face, brushing over the bottom of her lip as another whimper left her from the gentle rock of his hips. Johnny drew back only to press forward again, pleasure erupting from both as the temperature in the room continued to rise with their lovemaking. Praising her with the gentle words, “You’re perfect--absolutely perfect.”

Usually when Johnny awoke to Midas thrashing against the covers from the nightmare plaguing her sleep, he’d quickly pull her out and proceed to hold her in his arms until she managed to fall back into a peaceful slumber. Pressing soft kisses against her hairline while he rubbed her back, shortly falling asleep on his own accord not long after. It’s been nearly two years since they took the leap and made their relationship official, and thankfully the terrors she faced in her sleep slowly became less frequent. Almost rare.

Tonight, however, the battle raging in her mind had been too much. Sending her back in time to the destruction of Genosha that left her shaken to the core. All the bodies. All the death. Blood seeping down her temples. Her suit tarnished and torn, covered with dirt and blood. Not just her own, but that of fellow mutants she failed to save. Green light beams shooting down from the sky. Buildings up in flames. Screams. The awful, blood-curling screams of those cowering to safety only to meet their end. 

She saw herself calling out to Rogue. To Gambit. Praying to whatever higher power may exist they were okay. Then everything went dark. And she lifted her head to find the silhouette of mayhem in all its metal glory. The Sentinel staring down at her as she stood frozen. Eyes completely void until they glowed brighter and brighter until the last thing she saw before she woke up was a green glow consuming her vision. 

Screams filled the darkened room, abruptly waking Johnny with a gasp where he turned to see his partner fling up from the mattress and nearly fall off the edge of the bed, Johnny reaching out in a flash to grab hold of her. 

“Baby! Baby, wake up--It’s okay!” He tried to calm her down as she fought against his hold. “It’s all a dream--you’re dreaming, honey--.”

“They’re all dead!” she wailed, nails biting into his forearm, before she quickly removed them. Fearing her powers would unleash to their own accord if she touched him. “They killed them--they-they-they lied to us!! And they killed them!”

Immediately Johnny understood what she was referring to, his hold tightening as he attached his lips to her temple. “Look at me, Midas,” one hand came to her jaw, gently encouraging her to turn her head even though she still thrashed to get away, preventing their skin from making contact. “Honey, focus on my voice. Listen to me--I’m right here with you. You’re home. You’re safe.” 

He felt relieved when she finally opened her eyes, but it broke him to see the utter despair in them. 

“They lied, Johnny.”

“I know they did, baby,” he cooed, thumb smoothing the skin of her jaw in hopes to calm her down, happy she allowed the touch.

“They promised peace to us--ev-everything was supposed to be okay…and they lied to us,” her voice was hoarse from how dried her throat became from the screaming. “There were too many of them.” The sentinels. “We couldn’t do anything--I couldn’t do anything.” Her bottom lip trembled with a sob.

Johnny’s breath fawned her cheek, blinking away his own tears that threatened to fall. “You were dreaming, baby. It wasn’t real--.”

“But it was, Johnny!” her wail cut him off and bounced off the walls, hands clutching the sheets as a means to ground herself. “It was real! It happened--an--and they knew it would happen and they did nothing. They did nothing to stop it! They let us pick up the pieces on our own--I had to bury my friends.” The last sentence trailed into a wave of sobs, impossible to keep in.

Johnny pressed her face into his chest, one hand cradling the back of her neck while murmuring sweet nothings into her ear. Lips trailing all over her hairline and cheeks, tasting salt from the tears she released. A few of his own fell, for he felt the pain she poured out and wished nothing more than to take it away. 

“Hey, hey,” he shushed when her sobs turned to hiccups, coaxing her back down. “Breath with me--you’re going to hurt yourself if you don’t take some deep breaths. With me, okay? In--.” He inhaled deeply, waiting for her to follow his lead. Once she did, he exhaled, “and out.” Again, she copied. 

They repeated the action a few times until her hiccups subsided, letting her breath at a normal pace. She still shivered, and Johnny was quick to light the candle on her nightstand with a flick of his finger, bringing a dim glow to the room, and returned his tight hold around her. 

“There you go,” he cooed, planting a kiss on her forehead. He kept rubbing her back until she evened out, relaxing against him which in turn relaxed Johnny. 

The clock ticked by, seconds turning into minutes, and Johnny looked down to find her already staring back at him in a way that caused the air to catch in the back of his throat. An intense stare, pinning him in place and sent heat down his spine for he knew what she was thinking at that moment. 

“What do you need from me?” His voice lowered as the atmosphere became thick. 

She reached for him, drawing him close until their breaths mingled and the heat of his skin collided with her. “Make me forget,” came her plea. “Remind me it’s all in the past and they’ll never hurt me again. Please, Johnny,” he internally groaned at the desperation in her voice, heightened by the intensity behind her eyes. “I need you.”

That was all Johnny needed to hear before he was smashing his lips to hers, maneuvering their position, “I’ll give you everything to you, baby. You don’t have to beg--I got you.”

Raising them both to their knees so he could tug away the satin nightgown off her body, laying kisses to the expanse of her throat and chest while she grasped at his t-shirt, begging him to remove it to which he did in an instant. Laying his hands on her hips, he guided her to the mattress, pressing her down so he could hover above and resume his worshiping down her body. Teasing the trim of her underwear with his mouth as down the skin of her thighs, leaving her an absolute mess.  

The remaining pieces of clothes peeled away, his mouth never leaving the area she needed him most until she leapt over the edge twice before Johnny removed himself and crawled up the bed, shedding his boxers and guiding himself between her legs. 

He shuddered with each trace of her hands down his back. 

She gasped with every kiss he left to her pulse point. 

They moved as one and everything about it was transcending. The feel of their skin on one another. The heat he produced, pouring into the open space causing sweat to coat their skin. Her moans and soft sounds, each combined with his grunts and the gentle creak of the bed. Hands gripping shoulders and hips, hard enough to leave bruises, and marks of love across their necks and collarbones. 

She looked heavenly under the dim glow of the candle beside their bed. The only light in the room--save for what peaked through the windows from the moon. And Johnny swore he lost the ability to breathe when she cupped his cheeks in her hands, maintaining the eye contact he yearned for. 

It sent his heart soaring. Unable to stop himself from leaning down to capture her lips in a searing kiss. Pushing his nose against hers as he swallowed her moan, thrusts never ceasing their pace. Bringing them closer to release with each pump.  

“I love you,” saliva coated his mouth, leaving a glistening sheen as he pulled away, but kept his arms by her head so that he was practically cradling her. “So much. God, I can’t get enough of you.” The words left her a whimpering mess, her body reacting as well it caused his hips to falter. “You’re the love of my life, sweetheart. Never fucking forget that--you hear me? Never.” 

How could she really? When he spent every living breathing moment worshiping the ground she walked on. Gazing at her like some walking Goddess sent to make him forget everything else existed until only she remained. Touching her as though she were a priceless artifact that belonged in the Louvre. 

“I love you,” she panted back, breath fawning his mouth, their gazes locked with so much intensity it made them hazy. “Oh, Johnny, I love you.” Hands trailed from his cheeks to the back of his neck, keeping him held close as she could not stand having him away from her. 

As they neared their end, Johnny lifted her up and onto his lap, cradling her as one hand tangled in her hair and the other wrapped around her lower back. The heat intensified, the atmosphere spellbinding and Johnny tucked his face in the crook of her neck.

She choked on the air, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt the coil unravel and that familiar smoothness of metal forming at her fingertips, causing panic to quickly rise as it always did when she felt herself starting to lose control in the middle of their lovemaking. “Jo-Johnny--.”

“I got you,” his hold tightened, keeping her pressed to him as he slowed his movements and removed his face from her neck to see the area below her eyelids beginning to turn. “Open your eyes, baby. Look at me.” The hand in her hair moved to cradle her cheek, thumb brushing the soft skin turning beneath his touch. When she finally opened them after another sound of encouragement, they were consumed by solid gold. 

It spread to her cheekbones and temples, over her eyebrows and the bridge of her nose. Covering her complexion in a way that made it look like she was wearing a masquerade mask. And Johnny caught his reflection staring back at him on the smooth, shiny surface. 

She was close, he felt it in the way her body began to stiffen and her breathing faltered. Rocking against the slow pace of his hips to chase it while fighting against the fear of her powers taking over. It wasn’t the first time it had happened--evident by their golden headboard that was once a deep brown oak. 

And her nightstand…..

“Come back to me,” Johnny’s eyes never left hers, easing his pace as he encouraged her with a gentle voice. Her shuddered breath had him lean closer so their foreheads were touching, holding the back of her head when she tried to move away fearing she’d hurt him. “You’re right here, baby. Just relax and breathe for me.” 

She leaned into his touch, welcoming it this time instead of running from it, nodding as she inhaled deeply only to let it release it and allow herself to let go of the fear and just feel. Feel his heat, his touch, his love. 

The coil in her stomach rose again, fast and powerful until it consumed every inch of her body and washed over like a tidal wave, releasing a sound from her lips that bounced off every wall and sent chills up Johnny’s spine. He continued to move, eyes planted firmly on her face to drink in every sound and flash of pleasure that poured out until his own climax seeped out before he had the chance to realize it was happening. Clutching her so tight it stole the air from her throat. 

“God,” he groaned her name, sweat trailing his temple as he pressed his forehead to her chest, lips barely brushing her sternum. “You did so good, baby. So good.” He kissed the area between her breasts, hands caressing her lower back until he felt her relax against him. 

Together, they came down from the high and back to Earth. Panting and holding one another as though it was the only thing they knew how to do. Johnny continued to kiss along her chest, murmuring soft praises that pressed into her skin until he finally glanced up to meet her eye. Relieved to see the gold retreating, her cheeks and temples returning to their natural complexion. The color of her eyes meeting his, no longer swallowed by metal. Leaving only sweat along her glistening hairline. 

“That was an intense one, huh,” Johnny smiled, hand reaching to cup her jaw. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I just traveled at light speed for the first time,” catching her breath, she swallowed the saliva that had built in the back of her throat. Fingers moving to cup the back of his neck where they softly carded through his blonde locks. “For a moment there, I thought our bed was going to match the bedframe.” 

Johnny laughed, pressing a soft kiss to her jaw, “Not going to lie, I thought so too.” Adjusting her in his lap, Johnny maneuvered them so they were back laying on the mattress. He removed himself with a hiss, planting one last kiss on her forehead before going to the bathroom to retrieve a warm cloth and her silk robe. Returning to the bed, he gently cleaned her up, lips brushing her knee and thigh which earned him a giggle and helped her into her robe, tying it with a secure knot. Then he approached her dresser to grab a clean pair of underwear, which he also assisted her into before he finally slipped into a clean boxers then into the sheets on his side of the bed. Flopping half on top of her.

“You need some water?”

“No, I’m good,” she replied, adjusting herself against the mattress. Once comfortable she wrapped her arms around his naked torso, head pressing onto the soft pillow with a soft sigh as her breathing finally evened out. “Thank you.” 

He pressed his mouth to her cleavage exposed by the robe. The action speaking louder than any words could. It said, ‘I’ll always be here for you,’ and “I’ll always give you what you need.”

It said, “I love you,” which he whispered into her skin, shuddering at the way her hands trailed the expanse of his back. Soft lingering touches he melted into, completely spent and full of love. 

“I love you,” she whispered back, the last waves of the high coming down causing her to sigh in content, “so much it hurts.” Another kiss, one with pressure, was laid to her chest. Feeling Johnny squeeze her hip as he nuzzled his nose into the area above her collarbone. 

Together they basked in the afterglow, the cool air colliding with the heat left behind. Sweat lingering on their bodies, giving them both a dewy complexing that radiated against the candlelight. And sweet touches that left them dreamy.

Johnny, like he often did when her past came back to haunt her, voiced his frustration at the people responsible. “I wish I knew you when it happened--I hate that you went through that alone.”

Midas, as she always counted, calmed him down with kisses and words of understanding. “People fear what they don’t understand. It’s something I’ve had to accept the hard way, but…you learn with time.” 

 “That doesn’t excuse their shitty behavior.”

 “No, it doesn’t.”

Eventually, the fatigue hit. The two heroes were unable to fight it as they positioned themselves on their respective sides of the bed. Johnny extinguished the candle, sending them into darkness and Midas rested her head leveled with his chest. 

Johnny brushed one last kiss to her hairline, tilting her chin up with a thumb to lay one on her lips. “I’ll be here when you wake up. Always will be.” 

Her hand caught his, interlacing their fingers to bring his knuckles to her mouth, “I know.” 

When the darkness settled over them and with the heat of her love blanketed over her, Midas succumbed to a dreamy slumber filled with love and happiness rather than chaos and destruction. Johnny’s laugh echoed, his smile shining behind her eyelids. Reminding her of the light she found in a universe far far away from her own. 

The only consistent details are the height, the eyes, and the flowers.

Naturally, Bruce begins investigating. His first theory is Pamela. His second theory is magic. His third is that he hates magic.

You, meanwhile, have absolutely no idea Batman has built an entire case file around you. You are considerably more preoccupied with Gotham’s plant life, which you find deeply upsetting.

The soil is poisoned. The roots of trees twist around pipes and concrete. Plants grow despite pollution, chemical spills, and an almost impressive lack of direct sunlight.

You find Gotham fascinating. Bruce finds your interest in Gotham deeply suspicious.

Your first real meeting is not particularly romantic. Bruce follows you for nearly three nights before confronting you. He watches you move through the park, too tall and strangely proportioned to ever be mistaken for human. Even when you crouch, your limbs fold awkwardly around you, all elbows and knees hidden beneath layers of vines, bark, petals and fabric. Your hands have four fingers each, long and clawed. Your eyes are entirely one colour, glowing faintly in the darkness with no visible pupils or whites. Your hair trails along the ground behind you in thick, impossible waves, branches and flowers occasionally caught within it.

Bruce prepares for almost everything. He does not prepare for you looking directly at the gargoyle where he is hiding and saying, “You may come down.”

Batman does not move. You wait. Several seconds pass.

“I know you are there.” Still nothing. You tilt your head, flowers shifting softly along your shoulders. “You are not particularly subtle.”

Bruce takes that personally. He drops down in front of you and immediately starts asking questions in that calm, controlled Batman voice. “What are you doing in Gotham?”

You stare down at him.  Bruce is not used to people making him feel short. He discovers that he dislikes it.  “Walking.”

“Why?”

“Because remaining still would make walking difficult.”

There is a long pause. You have been in Gotham for less than a week and are already testing the limits of Batman’s patience. 

“That isn’t what I meant.”

“Then ask a better question.”

Bruce nearly decides on the spot that magic is worse than aliens.

Bruce does not trust you quickly. Even after establishing that you are not actively harming anyone, he continues monitoring you. There are too many unanswered questions. Where did you come from? How old are you? What exactly are your abilities? Are you affected by iron? Fire? Magic? Poison? Do the plants growing from your body have their own defensive properties? Can you control plant life, or simply communicate with it? What would happen if you were injured? How quickly can you heal? Can you die?

You tolerate the questions for a while. Eventually, during one particularly clinical conversation in the Cave, you slowly turn your head towards him. “You wish to know how to kill me.”

Bruce goes completely still. The atmosphere changes. Even your hair seems to move more slowly. Bruce considers denying it, but lying would make things worse. “I need to know what can hurt you.”

“Why?”

“Because if something does, I need to know how to stop it.”

That answer surprises you. Bruce can tell. You study him for a long moment, your expression difficult for a human to read. Then some of the flowers near your collarbone slowly unfold.

Bruce does not understand what that means yet. He will eventually.

At the beginning, Bruce is much more unsettled by your appearance than he ever admits. It is not because he finds you ugly. He simply does not understand your body. Humans are easy for Bruce to read. Heartbeat, pupils, breathing, body language. He has built his entire life around noticing microscopic changes in people.

You disrupt almost all of those systems. Your eyes have no pupils to dilate. Your facial structure is humanoid but not entirely human, and expressions do not appear in exactly the same ways. Your heartbeat is slow enough that he initially thinks something is medically wrong. Your body temperature changes with the environment. When you become anxious, the leaves growing along your body curl inward. When angry, thorns emerge from your skin. When happy, flowers open.

Bruce has to learn an entirely new language. Naturally, he does. Quietly. Obsessively.

He keeps notes. You discover this accidentally. Not his case notes. Those are locked away. These are different. Practical.

Flowers at temples close when overstimulated. Prefers indirect sunlight after injury. Hands become stiff when dehydrated. Does not like being approached from behind while sleeping. White flowers indicate embarrassment. Possibly irritation. Further observation required.

You stand in front of the Batcomputer reading them. Bruce enters the Cave. He stops.

You look at him. “Further observation required?”

Bruce stares at the screen. “Those are incomplete notes.” 

“Clearly.”

“You weren’t supposed to read them.”

“They concern me.”

“That does not mean—”

Several white flowers bloom near your ears.

Bruce stops speaking. He looks at the flowers. Then at you. Then back at the flowers.

“Embarrassment,” he says.

You bare your claws. “Delete the notes.” 

He does not.

Bruce is incredibly careful about touching you. At first, he rarely does so unless necessary. He does not know which parts of you are sensitive or whether touching certain flowers might cause pain. He has dealt with beings whose bodies operate under magical rules, and Bruce refuses to make assumptions. The first time he asks permission, you barely realise what he is doing. You have been injured during a fight, a deep burn spreading across one of your arms where magic struck you. Bruce kneels beside you.

His gloved hand hovers just above your wrist. “Can I touch you?”

You look at him. “You have touched me before.”

“Not here.”

You glance down at the damaged bark and burned flowers. Something in your expression softens. “Yes.”

Bruce’s hands are astonishingly gentle. That surprises you more than anything else about him.

Once Bruce becomes accustomed to your appearance, he becomes almost dangerously unfazed by it. Everyone else reacts when your hair begins moving on its own. Bruce continues drinking coffee. Your fingers lengthen slightly when you use magic. Bruce barely looks up from the Batcomputer. You appear in the kitchen at two in the morning with enormous antler-like branches growing from your head because you are entering a seasonal phase of your life cycle.

Bruce looks at you. “Those are new.”

“Yes.”

“Are they permanent?”

“No.”

“Will they damage the ceiling?”

You stare at him. “That is your concern?”

“The ceiling is original.”

You grow thorns out of pure irritation.

Bruce takes another sip of coffee. “Please don’t scratch the counter.”

You initially misunderstand Batman entirely. In your culture, clothing inspired by predators usually communicates territory, social status or threat. Therefore, after observing Bruce for some time, you come to the perfectly reasonable conclusion that Batman is some kind of territorial guardian creature.

Bruce is not pleased. “You believe Gotham belongs to me.”

“Yes.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Then why do you patrol its borders?”

“I don’t patrol borders.”

“You mark territory.”

“I do not.” You gesture towards the Bat-Signal. Bruce looks at it. Then back at you. “That is not a territorial marker.”

“It is a large glowing symbol that warns others of your presence.”

Bruce opens his mouth. Closes it.

You continue. “You also decorate your shelter with the same symbol.”

“That’s different.”

“And your offspring wear variations of your markings.”

Bruce’s expression becomes deeply tired. “They are not my offspring.”

You stare at him.

Bruce sighs. “Not all of them.”

Your relationship with his children is one of the reasons Bruce starts trusting you more deeply. You are patient with Damian, even when Damian is anything but patient with you. You listen when Dick talks. You do not treat Jason differently when you learn what happened to him. You tolerate Tim’s endless questions. You sit quietly with Cass without demanding conversation. You let Duke manipulate light around your flowers because he is fascinated by the reaction. You allow Steph to put small decorations in your hair, although Bruce suspects you occasionally pretend not to notice things because it makes her happy.

Bruce sees all of it. You become part of the Manor gradually. Not because anyone formally invites you to stay. You simply start appearing more often. First for dinner. Then after patrol. Then in the library. Then asleep in the greenhouse. Eventually, Bruce realises there are things of yours around the house. A book beside one chair. Strange seeds stored in the kitchen. A cloak hanging near the entrance. Flowers growing in places flowers absolutely should not be growing. You have become part of the house without either of you noticing.

The Manor is profoundly unsuitable for someone built like you. You duck beneath almost every doorway. Chairs are uncomfortable because your legs are too long. Your hair catches on handles and corners. Standard beds are effectively useless. The first time you spend a night at the Manor, you sleep curled tightly on the floor of the greenhouse because it is the only place large enough and warm enough to be comfortable.

You never complain. This makes Bruce feel worse.

Renovations begin several weeks later. Quietly. Certain doors become taller. One guest bedroom is completely redesigned. The furniture is custom-built. The shower is modified. UV lighting is installed for winter months. The temperature controls become unusually precise.

You discover the changes one by one. Bruce refuses to acknowledge why they happened.

“The house required renovation.”

You stand beneath a doorway that is now almost three feet taller than before. “This doorway was functional.”

“Barely.”

“For humans.”

Bruce looks at his tablet. “The change is practical.”

You move closer. “Bruce.”

“The Manor requires regular structural maintenance.”

“Bruce.”

He does not look up. “The discussion is over.”

You gently place one enormous clawed hand over his tablet and lower it. Bruce finally meets your eyes. Tiny flowers are blooming through your hair.

“Thank you,” you say.

Bruce looks away first.

Bruce pretends he dislikes how much plant life follows you into the Manor. This is a lie. At first, he complains about roots damaging the stone. Then he discovers you repairing old trees on the property that have been dying for decades. You revive Alfred’s herbs. You grow flowers in places Martha Wayne once had gardens. One spring morning, Bruce walks outside and discovers a section of the grounds blooming exactly as it did in photographs from his childhood.

He stops walking. You are kneeling nearby, hands buried in the soil.

“Alfred showed me photographs,” you explain. Bruce cannot speak for several moments. You look over. “Have I done something wrong?”

“No.” His voice is quieter than usual. “No. You haven’t.”

He never tells you how long he stays outside after you leave.

Bruce struggles with the difference in your lifespans. He does not bring it up for a long time. You are ancient by human standards, although you refuse to give an exact number.

Bruce tries asking once. “How old are you?”

“Older than you.”

“That isn’t helpful.”

“Older than Alfred.”

“Still not helpful.”

“Older than Gotham.” Bruce pauses. You smile faintly. “That helped.”

It did not.

Once Bruce loves you, the concept becomes more difficult. He is human. You are not.

One night, he asks quietly whether your kind lives forever. You tell him no.

“But longer than humans?”

“Yes.” Bruce is silent. You understand the fear beneath the question. You reach down and take his hand carefully between your clawed fingers. “A short life is not a lesser one.”

Bruce looks at your joined hands. “Easy for you to say.”

“No.” Your voice softens. “I have watched mountains change shape. Do you think that makes losing one person easier?”

Bruce looks at you then. “It does not.”

Bruce is intensely protective of you, but never because he thinks you are weak. He knows exactly how dangerous you are. He has seen you tear metal apart with your hands. He has watched roots split concrete when you become angry. He knows your claws can cut through armour.

None of that matters. Bruce protects people he loves.

Unfortunately, he also develops contingencies. You discover this eventually. You are angry. Genuinely angry. Thorns cover your shoulders, arms and back. Vines move through the Cave. Bruce stands his ground.

“You created a plan to kill me.”

“A plan to stop you.” 

“There is very little difference.”

“There is to me.” You stare at him. Bruce’s voice drops. “I have plans for everyone.”

“Your children?”

His jaw tightens. “Everyone.”

You realise then that his paranoia is not evidence that he loves you less. It is one of the uglier scars left by everything he has survived.

You do not forgive him immediately. Bruce does not expect you to.

But he gives you the file. Not just access. The physical file. “You should know what I know.”

You look at it. “That is trust?”

“For me?” Bruce’s mouth twists bitterly. “Yes.”

Sleeping beside you is initially complicated. Mostly because you are enormous. Bruce is a large man. This means absolutely nothing when compared to you. You can curl around him completely.

The first time it happens, he wakes abruptly because something is covering his chest. He reaches for a weapon. Then realises it is your hair. Several metres of it. You are asleep beside him, one long arm around his waist, your claws resting carefully against his stomach without applying pressure.

Bruce lies completely still. He should move. He has meetings in two hours. He has patrol reports. He has things to do.

Instead, he stays there. Your body smells faintly of rain and cedar. For once, the Manor is quiet. Bruce closes his eyes again.

Bruce loves your eyes. It takes him a long time to say it. Humans often find them unnerving because they are a single uninterrupted colour. Gold. Green. Blue. Whatever colour they are, there are no whites and no visible pupils, just an endless field of colour that catches light strangely. Bruce looks into them often.

Eventually, you notice. “Humans normally dislike my eyes.”

Bruce frowns. “Why?”

“They find them difficult to read.”

“They’re expressive.”

You stare at him. “You spent several months learning how to read them.”

“That doesn’t make me wrong.”

You lean closer. “What are they expressing now?”

Bruce examines your face. The slight tilt of your ears. The relaxed position of your shoulders. The tiny white flowers beginning to emerge through your hair. “Embarrassment.”

You immediately cover his face with your hand. “You are intolerable.”

Bruce kisses your palm. Your entire hairline bursts into flowers.

He actually smiles.

His favourite thing about you is not your magic. Not your appearance. Not even the fact that you can make the Manor grounds look alive in ways they have not for decades. It is your patience.

Bruce is difficult to love. He knows this. He disappears into himself. He forgets meals. He works until exhaustion. He pushes people away when frightened. He weaponises silence.

You never mistake patience for permission, though. You wait when he genuinely needs space. You confront him when he is simply running away. There is a difference.

One evening, Bruce tells you, “I need to be alone.”

You study him. “No.”

He looks up sharply. “No?”

“You wish to punish yourself. That is different.”

Bruce’s face hardens. “You don’t know what I want.”

You sit beside him. The chair complains beneath your weight. “Perhaps not.” Your shoulder presses against his. “But I know what loneliness looks like.”

Bruce says nothing. You remain.

Eventually, his head rests against your arm.

He develops a habit of bringing you things. Not gifts, according to him. Samples. Interesting objects. Historical books about forests. Jewellery shaped to accommodate your unusual hands. Seeds from rare plants. Small fragments of meteorite because he wants to know how your magic reacts. A seventeenth-century botanical text because it contains a sketch that looks vaguely like you.

“You bought this at auction?”

“It was relevant.”

“Bruce.”

“The historical inaccuracies are interesting.”

“You paid forty thousand dollars for it.”

“That’s not relevant.”

You stare at him. Bruce Wayne, billionaire vigilante and world-class detective, has apparently decided the hill he will die on is pretending expensive gifts are research materials.

You terrify Gotham’s social elite. Bruce secretly enjoys this. He would never admit it. The first gala you attend with him is chaos. No human clothing looks entirely natural on you, so you wear something designed around your body: flowing fabric, exposed bark-like skin, flowers woven through your enormous hair.

Everyone stares. Bruce offers you his arm. Your claws could wrap around his entire forearm.

“They are frightened,” you whisper.

“Yes.”

“Should I leave?”

Bruce’s expression changes instantly. “No.”

“But—”

“Let them be uncomfortable.” You look at him. Bruce calmly walks you further into the ballroom. “It might improve their personalities.”

You laugh loudly enough that half the gala turns around. Bruce looks deeply pleased with himself.

There are moments when the difference between you becomes painfully obvious. Sometimes Bruce wakes and finds you standing outside in the rain, perfectly still. You can remain that way for hours. Listening, you say. To what? Everything. Roots. Water. Wind. Things Bruce cannot hear.

He watches you and remembers that, despite your laughter and your place in his home, you belong to something older than cities.

Sometimes you look at Bruce and feel the opposite. His life burns quickly. Human and bright. Every year matters. Every injury matters. Every night he survives matters.

Perhaps that is why you love each other so fiercely.

Bruce has spent his life trying to control time. You have lived long enough to know it cannot be controlled. Somewhere between those truths, the two of you meet.

Bruce eventually becomes the person you trust enough to see you change with the seasons. In autumn, leaves fall from your body. Your flowers disappear. Parts of your skin become rougher, darker. You become slower. More tired. The first year this happens, Bruce thinks you are dying. His reaction is, predictably, terrible. Medical equipment appears. Zatanna receives multiple messages. Constantine receives several threats. 

You wake from a nap to find Bruce taking a sample from a fallen leaf.

“Bruce.” He freezes. “Put it down.”

“Your cellular activity has changed.”

“It is autumn.”

“Your heart rate has decreased.”

“It is autumn.”

“You’ve been sleeping more.”

“Bruce.”

“What?”

“I am a tree.” Silence. “Partially,” you add.

Bruce closes his eyes. “You could have mentioned seasonal dormancy.”

“I assumed it was obvious.”

He looks at you. You are covered in orange leaves. “…Fair.”

Loving Bruce does not make him less paranoid, less stubborn or less difficult. Loving you does not make you human. Bruce never asks you to shrink yourself. Not physically. Not magically. Not emotionally. The Manor grows around you instead. Doorways become taller. Gardens become stranger. A greenhouse light burns through Gotham winters. Your claws leave marks on furniture that Bruce pretends to be annoyed about. Flowers appear in the Cave. Roots occasionally interfere with electrical systems and Barbara threatens both of you.

Life finds its way into the cracks of Bruce Wayne’s world. He spent years believing love meant losing people. Then you arrive, strange and ancient and impossible, and teach him that sometimes love looks like roots breaking through stone.

Slowly. Quietly. Completely.

dick grayson, 4.8k

Dick’s first reaction to seeing you is not fear. Which, honestly, should probably concern you more than fear would.

You are standing in the middle of Blüdhaven at night, impossibly tall and distinctly inhuman, with limbs too long to belong to any creature Dick recognises and clawed hands curled loosely at your sides. Your hair spills almost to the pavement in thick, wild strands, tangled with vines and small flowering branches. Your eyes are one solid, luminous colour, reflecting the neon signs around you without any visible pupil or white. There is blood on one of your claws.

Dick lands on the rooftop opposite you. You look at him. He looks at you.

There is a long silence. Then Nightwing says, “Okay. You are really tall.”

You blink. That is not the response you expected. “Is that relevant?”

“Not really. I just thought someone should acknowledge it.”

You stare at him for several more seconds. 

Dick smiles. “Hi.”

You immediately decide this human is either extremely brave or extremely stupid.

As it turns out, the answer is yes.

Dick does not immediately assume you are dangerous simply because you look frightening. He is cautious, obviously. He has been doing this for too long to walk directly towards a creature with claws capable of cutting through brick without at least considering the possibility that he might be disembowelled.

But his caution does not feel cruel. He does not bark orders at you. He does not demand that you explain what you are. He does not look at you like you are a problem waiting to happen.

Instead, he glances towards the unconscious men behind you and asks, “Did they attack you first?”

You look down at them. “Yes.”

“Cool.” Dick rolls one shoulder. “Then I’m guessing they deserved whatever happened here.”

“I did not kill them.”

“That’s also cool.”

You look at him carefully. “You do not seem afraid.”

Dick’s smile softens slightly. “I’m not saying I wouldn’t scream if you suddenly lunged at me.”

You tilt your head. “Would you like to test this?”

He laughs. “See, that was funny.”

You did not mean it as a joke. This becomes a recurring problem.

The first thing Dick notices about you is how carefully you try to occupy space. You are enormous. There is no graceful way around that fact. Doorways are too small. Furniture is fragile beneath you. Your hair catches on everything. Your claws make people nervous, even when your hands are relaxed.

So you make yourself smaller. You crouch instead of standing fully upright indoors. You hold your arms close to your body. You sit on floors rather than risk damaging chairs. You tuck your hair around yourself so nobody trips over it.

Dick notices all of this almost immediately. He hates it.

Not you. The fact that you feel like you have to do it.

One night, you are sitting on the floor of his apartment while Dick is on the couch He looks at you. “You know you can sit up here, right?”

“The couch is not designed for me.”

“Neither am I, and I sleep on it constantly.”

“That explains much.”

Dick puts a hand dramatically over his chest. “Wow.”

You continue sitting on the floor. Dick sighs and gets down beside you.

You glance at him. “What are you doing?”

“Sitting.”

“There is furniture.”

“Yeah, but apparently we’re a floor household now.”

After that, he starts adapting. Cushions on the floor. An enormous beanbag he buys specifically because he thinks you will find it funny. A mattress in the living room during movie nights. He cannot redesign the entire building, but he can make sure you never feel like the inconvenience in the room.

Dick is probably the first person to tell you directly that he thinks you are beautiful. Not interesting. Not impressive. Not exotic. 

Beautiful.

The distinction matters more than he realises.

People stare at you constantly. Some are frightened. Some are fascinated in a way that makes your skin crawl. Some look at the flowers growing from your body and forget that they are connected to you.

Dick never does.

One afternoon, you are complaining about the difficulty of navigating crowded places without causing panic.“Humans dislike unfamiliar things.”

Dick is lying across the couch upside down. “Humans are dumb.”

“You are human.”

“Exactly. I’m an expert.”

You give him an unimpressed look.

He rolls upright and looks at you properly. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re beautiful.”

You go very still.

Dick keeps talking, unaware that every flower along your shoulders has begun opening. “Like, objectively. You look incredible. Kind of terrifying, obviously, but in a cool way.” He pauses. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.”

“Your flowers are doing a thing.”

“They are not.”

“They absolutely are.”

You turn away.

Dick’s eyes widen. “Oh my God.”

“Do not.”

“Did I make you bloom?”

“Grayson.”

“That’s adorable.”

You threaten to throw him off the balcony. Dick points out that he can fly. You tell him falling creatively is not the same as flying.

Dick is fascinated by your appearance, but he is unusually good at knowing when curiosity becomes invasive. He asks questions. Lots of questions. But he asks permission first.

“Can I ask you something weird?”

You look at him. “You never ask ordinary questions.”

“Fair.” He points towards your hair. “Does it hurt when flowers grow?”

You think about it. “No.”

“Can you feel them?”

“Somewhat.”

Dick’s expression changes immediately. His hand, which had been drifting towards one of the flowers near your shoulder, drops.

You notice. “You may touch them.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

He reaches out carefully. His fingertips barely brush the petals. The flower closes.

Dick freezes. “Did I upset it?”

“No.”

“Did I upset you?”

“No.”

“Then why did it—”

“It is nighttime.”

There is a pause.

“Oh.”

You stare at him. “Richard.”

“I’m learning.”

He looks genuinely embarrassed. You laugh. Dick immediately forgets his humiliation because making you laugh is his favourite sport.

Dick absolutely loves your hair. It is ridiculous. Several metres long, impossibly thick and prone to behaving according to emotional states you cannot always control. When calm, it drapes like silk and willow branches. When agitated, it lifts slightly around you. When furious, thorned vines occasionally emerge between the strands.

Dick thinks all of this is amazing. He is also the only member of the family reckless enough to lie directly on it.

The first time, you stare down at him in horror. “You are on my hair.”

“It’s comfortable.”

“Move.”

“Five more minutes.”

“Richard.”

“You’re basically a heated blanket.”

“I will strangle you with it.”

Dick closes his eyes. “See? Multifunctional.”

You should hate him. Unfortunately, you do not.

Once you trust him enough, Dick starts helping you care for your hair. It takes hours. Human brushes are useless. You have your own tools, some made from polished bone, wood or material Dick cannot identify.

The first time you allow him to help, he becomes unexpectedly quiet. You sit on the floor, your hair covering almost the entire room. Dick sits behind you and carefully works through it section by section.

Usually he talks constantly. That night, he does not.

His hands are gentle. He untangles vines without breaking them. Removes dead leaves. Separates flowers from knots.

Eventually, you ask, “Why are you silent?” 

Dick smiles faintly. “Didn’t want to ruin the moment.”

You turn slightly. “By speaking?”

“I have been told that’s a risk.”

You smile.

After that, it becomes one of your rituals. Dick comes home from patrol. You sit together. He talks about his day while slowly working through your hair. Sometimes he braids parts of it. Sometimes you fall asleep. Sometimes he finds a tiny beetle living inside it and spends ten minutes arguing with you about whether he can name it.

He is obsessed with decorating you. You make the mistake of letting him braid one ribbon into your hair. It escalates immediately.

Blue ribbons. Small silver clips. Tiny charms. Flowers that Dick insists look good with the flowers already growing there.

During Christmas, he wraps battery-operated fairy lights around part of your hair.

You look in the mirror. “I resemble a festival.”

Dick beams. “Exactly.”

“I do not think that was your intention.”

“It absolutely was.”

You walk into the Manor. Bruce looks at you. Then at Dick. 

“They’re battery-operated,” Dick says quickly.

Bruce rubs his forehead. “That was not my question.”

Damian calls the decorations humiliating. Cass says they are pretty. Steph adds tinsel. The situation deteriorates rapidly.

Dick is incredibly physically affectionate with you. This creates logistical problems. Dick hugs everyone. You are nearly nine feet tall.

At first, he wraps his arms around your waist. Then he complains that it feels impersonal.

“You’re hugging me.”

“Yeah, but your face is approximately in another postcode.”

“A what?”

“Never mind.”

Eventually, Dick just starts climbing you. He will hook an arm around your shoulders and pull himself up.

You catch him automatically. “What are you doing?”

“Hugging you.”

“You have climbed my body.”

“Adaptability.”

“Get down.”

“No.”

You carry him around the apartment for twenty minutes because he refuses to release you. Dick considers this a victory.

Dick also develops the dangerous habit of using your limbs for acrobatics. He sees your long arms. He sees an opportunity.

The first time it happens, you are standing on a rooftop. Dick runs towards you. Before you can react, he catches your arm and swings around it to change direction. Your body reacts instinctively. You nearly throw him across the roof.

Dick lands in a roll. He immediately stands up laughing.

You are horrified. “I COULD HAVE KILLED YOU.”

“You didn’t.”

“THAT IS NOT THE POINT.”

“That was amazing.”

“DO NOT DO IT AGAIN.”

He absolutely does it again.

Eventually, you start helping.

Dick develops an entire series of manoeuvres that involve using your height and reach. 

Bruce watches footage of this once. He slowly removes his cowl. “Absolutely not.”

Dick gestures towards the screen. “But look how cool that was.”

“No.”

“You didn’t even—”

“No.”

You quietly leave the Cave. You do not want to be part of whatever argument follows.

Dick learns your emotional tells faster than you expect. Unlike Bruce, who approaches the process like a detective solving a puzzle, Dick learns because he watches people constantly.

He notices when your ears lower slightly. He notices when leaves begin curling inward. He notices which flowers appear when you are embarrassed. He notices the subtle way your claws flex when you are overwhelmed. Eventually, he can tell what you are feeling before you consciously recognise it yourself.

“You’re anxious.”

You look at him. “No.”

“Leaves.”

“It is dry.”

“The humidity is sixty-eight per cent.”

You narrow your eyes. “Why do you know the humidity?”

Dick smiles. “Weather app.”

You glare. “Stop changing the subject.”

You consider growing thorns.

Dick points at you. “See? Defensive.”

“I am going to eat your phone.”

“That seems bad for your digestion.”

Dick is not always sunshine with you. He is charming and bright and funny, but you eventually learn that much of that brightness is something he creates deliberately.

Dick can be sad. Angry. Bitter. Exhausted. Sometimes there are parts of him that feel almost painfully old despite his young face. You understand old things.

One night, after a terrible patrol, Dick sits beside you on the roof and says nothing. You wait.

Eventually, you ask, “Do you wish to speak?” 

“No.”

You nod. “Do you wish to be alone?”

Dick hesitates. Then, “No.”

So you remain.

Your hair pools around both of you. Dick leans against your side. Minutes pass. Then an hour.

Eventually, he says quietly, “Everyone thinks I’m okay.”

You look down at him. “Are you?”

Dick laughs once. There is no humour in it. “Not always.”

You rest one clawed hand over his. “Then do not always be.”

Dick closes his eyes. He does not say anything else. He does not need to.

You are one of the few people Dick feels comfortable being silent around. Most of his life has involved performance in one form or another. The circus. Robin. Nightwing. The eldest son. The responsible brother. The charming one.

With you, silence is not failure. Sometimes you spend entire evenings together without speaking. Dick reads. You care for plants. His feet rest in your lap. Your hair covers half the floor. Every so often, Dick looks up and smiles at you.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You are staring.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you.”

“You are strange.”

“You’re a giant tree person.”

“That is irrelevant.”

“Sure.”

Dick loves introducing you to human things. Not because he thinks your culture is primitive. He genuinely just wants to share the things he loves with you.

Movies become a whole thing. You do not understand why people in horror films repeatedly enter obviously dangerous rooms.

“Do humans lack self-preservation?” Dick has to pause the movie because he is laughing too hard.

You hate rollercoasters. Not because they frighten you. Because you think building machinery to imitate falling is ridiculous.

Dick is personally offended. “Falling is fun.” 

“You have been concussed many times.”

“Unrelated.”

“I believe it is deeply related.”

He introduces you to cereal at midnight. You introduce him to fruit that technically went extinct centuries ago.

Dick takes one bite. He looks at you. “Can you grow more?”

“Yes.”

“I would die for you.”

“You say that often.”

“I mean it more now.”

Dick becomes very protective when people treat you like an object. He can handle fear. Fear is understandable. You are eight or nine feet tall, covered in bark and flowers, with claws longer than some knives. But fascination without respect? That irritates him.

At a Justice League meeting, someone asks whether they can take a sample of one of your leaves.

Dick’s smile does not change. “You could ask them instead of asking me.”

The person looks embarrassed.

You look at Dick. He shrugs. “You’re sitting right there.”

Another time, someone tries touching one of the flowers growing from your arm without asking.

Dick catches their wrist. Still smiling. “Don’t.”

His voice is light. His eyes are not.

You realise then that Dick’s anger is often quiet. Dangerous in a way his brightness can hide.

Strangers calling you monstrous is a different problem entirely. Dick has heard similar words before. Freak. Circus animal. Monster. Dangerous. He knows exactly what it feels like to have people decide what you are based on appearance.

The first time someone calls you a monster in front of him, you barely react.

Dick does. “Hey.” You glance at him. He is still smiling. This is not reassuring. “You want to try that sentence again?”

You touch his shoulder. “Richard.”

“No, seriously.”

“It does not matter.”

Dick turns towards you. His expression softens instantly. “It matters to me.”

You do not know what to say.

Dick does. “You don’t have to care what they think. But I’m allowed to care that they hurt you.”

Flowers bloom quietly through your hair.

Dick smiles. “There they are.”

You shove him.

Dick is delighted when he discovers you can carry him easily. He pretends this is practical. It is not.

After patrol, he will lean dramatically against you. “I’m exhausted.”

“Then sleep.”

“Can’t walk.”

“You walked here.”

“Used my last bit of energy.”

You stare at him. Dick stares back. You sigh and pick him up.

He immediately gets comfortable. “Thank you.”

“You are manipulating me.”

“I would never.”

“You are smiling.”

“Because I’m happy.”

“You are impossible.”

Dick rests his head against your chest. “And yet.”

You continue carrying him home.

He genuinely finds your claws beautiful. Other people are nervous around them. Dick holds your hands without hesitation once he knows you well.

Your palms are enormous compared to his. Four long fingers. Dark claws. Bark-like ridges across your knuckles. He traces them absentmindedly. 

“You know these could remove your hand.”

“Yeah.”

“That does not concern you?”

“Are you planning to remove my hand?”

“No.”

“Then we’re good.”

You stare at him. “Your survival instincts are poor.”

Dick grins. “Good thing I have you.”

You hate how effective that answer is.

Dick is the person most likely to encourage you to stop hiding your nonhuman traits. Sometimes you try to imitate humans. Not successfully. Your height alone makes blending in impossible. But you learn to hide flowers beneath clothing. Tie your hair back tightly. Keep your claws tucked into your palms. Avoid speaking when your voice sounds too strange.

Dick notices. “Why are you doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Trying to disappear.”

You look away. “Humans find me easier to tolerate this way.” 

Dick goes quiet. Then he steps closer. “I don’t want you to be tolerated.”

You look at him. “What?”

“I want you to exist.” His expression is serious now. “Completely.”

You do not answer.

Dick touches your hand. “You spend all your time making yourself smaller so people feel comfortable.” His thumb brushes carefully over one claw. “They can survive being uncomfortable.”

After that, you start letting yourself stand at your full height more often. Dick always looks delighted.

He loves watching you move through the city. There is something almost surreal about it. Blüdhaven is metal, concrete, neon and rain.

Then there is you. Flowers growing from your shoulders. Hair moving like willow branches. Claws clicking softly against rooftops. Sometimes plants push through cracks in the pavement after you pass. Dick thinks you look like the natural world has personally decided to invade his city.

One night, you catch him watching. 

“What?”

Dick smiles. “Nothing.”

“You are staring again.”

“You look cool.”

“That is a vague compliment.”

“You look like nature’s revenge.”

You consider it. “Better.”

The first time you visit Haly’s Circus with Dick is unexpectedly emotional. He talks about it constantly before you go. The trapeze. His parents. The people who raised him. By the time you finally see it, you feel like you already know the place.

The performers are initially wary of you. For approximately five minutes.

Then Dick introduces you. That changes everything. Circus people are used to unusual. Used to bodies that move differently. Used to people staring. Used to making family out of whoever needs one.

You fit surprisingly well.

An older performer looks at you and says, “You’re dating Johnny and Mary’s boy?”

Dick groans. “Please don’t say it like that.”

“He was naked backstage until he was four.”

“I am begging you.”

You slowly turn towards him. “This is valuable information.”

“No.”

“Please continue.”

Dick realises with horror that his family likes you. You realise with delight that they have stories. It is a wonderful day.

Dick teaches you trapeze. This goes exactly as badly as you would expect. Your proportions are not designed for human equipment. Dick thinks this makes the challenge more fun.

“Trust me.”

You look down from the platform. “You have said that immediately before several disasters.”

“Name one.”

You begin counting on your claws.

Dick interrupts. “Okay, fine.” He holds out his hands. “Trust me anyway.”

You do.

The first attempt ends with both of you tangled in the safety net. Dick is laughing so hard he cannot breathe. You are furious.

“Your entire species is ridiculous.”

“You loved it.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

A flower blooms near your ear. Dick points at it. “Evidence.”

You consider biting him.

Dick loves dancing with you. There are obvious height differences. He does not care. Sometimes he stands on furniture. Sometimes you lift him. Sometimes he dances around you while holding one of your hands.

The first time he convinces you to dance at Wayne Manor, you are reluctant. “I do not know human dances.”

“Neither does Bruce, and no one stops him.”

“I heard that,” Bruce says from across the room.

Dick ignores him. “Come on.”

You allow him to take your hand.

Dick guides you slowly. You are awkward at first. Your limbs are too long for the movements. Your claws make you afraid of hurting him.

Dick steps closer. “Stop thinking.” 

“That is terrible advice.”

“Okay. Stop worrying.” 

“Also terrible.”

“Just follow me.”

You do.

Eventually, the tension leaves your shoulders. Flowers open quietly along your hair.

Dick looks up. “You’re happy.”

You narrow your eyes. “Continue dancing.”

He smiles. “Yes, Boss.”

You nearly step on him.

Dick struggles with the fact that you might outlive him. Unlike Bruce, he asks directly. There is no long investigation. No careful research.

One night, while lying with his head in your lap, he says, “How long do you live?”

Your hand stops moving through his hair. “Why?”

Dick looks at the ceiling. “Just thinking.”

You know him too well to accept that answer. “About?”

Silence.

Then, “Whether you’ll still be here when I’m not.”

The question hurts.

You are quiet for a while.

Dick continues, “Sorry. That was depressing.”

“Do not apologise.”

“I kind of ruined the mood.”

“Richard.” He stops. You carefully cup the side of his face. “Yes.”

Dick looks at you. “Yes, what?”

“I will likely live longer than you.” His expression tightens. You continue before he can joke. “That does not make your life smaller.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

Dick does not answer.

Your thumb brushes his cheek. “A song does not become meaningless because it ends.”

His eyes close briefly. “That was disgustingly poetic.”

“You are crying.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are.” “Your plants are releasing allergens.”

“My plants do not—”

Dick sits up and hugs you before you can finish.

He worries that you will leave. This is different from worrying that you will die. Dick has spent his life losing homes. The circus. Gotham. Relationships. People. He is very good at pretending he does not fear abandonment.

You notice anyway.

Whenever you leave for long periods, he becomes strange. Not clingy. Almost the opposite. Too casual.

“You’ll be gone long?”

“A month.”

“Cool.”

You look at him. “Richard.”

“What?”

“You are unhappy.”

“No, I’m not.”

The lie is terrible.

You sit beside him. “I will return.”

Dick smiles. “I know.”

“You do not believe me.” His smile fades. You lean closer. “I will return.” This time, you make him look at you. “Say it.”

Dick swallows. “You’ll come back.”

“Yes.”

Something in his shoulders loosens.

Dick is the person who teaches you that home can be a person without making that idea feel like a cage. You have known forests. Ancient places. Hidden kingdoms. Rivers that no longer exist. You have lived in places humans would call beautiful beyond language. None of them prepared you for Dick Grayson.

Dick, who leaves cereal boxes open. Dick, who talks during movies. Dick, who steals blankets despite sleeping beside a creature who produces body heat. Dick, who will wake up at three in the morning and whisper, “Do you think fish get thirsty?”

You stare at him in the darkness. “Go to sleep.”

“But do they?”

“Richard.”

“I’m asking scientifically.”

“You are banned from speaking.”

Home becomes something strange. Bright. Loud. Sometimes irritating. It looks less like a forest and more like blue clothing abandoned on the floor.

Dick loves the parts of you that other people call frightening. Your claws. Your height. Your glowing eyes. Your sharp teeth. The way your hair moves when angry. The thorns. All of it.

Not because he romanticises danger. Dick has spent enough time around danger to know better. He simply refuses to believe that something must be soft to be beautiful. 

One night, you ask him, “Do I frighten you?”

Dick thinks seriously. “Sometimes.” You stiffen. Then he continues, “But not because of how you look.” You look at him. “You scared me last month when you almost got yourself killed protecting me.”

“That is different.”

“Not really.” Dick takes your hand. “You’re beautiful when you’re gentle.” His thumb traces one claw. “You’re beautiful when you’re not.”

The flowers across your body open so violently that Dick begins laughing.

“Do not.”

“I didn’t even say anything.”

“Your face is saying enough.”

Dick is hopelessly fascinated by the fact that your body changes with the seasons. Spring is his favourite. You bloom everywhere. Flowers appear in your hair faster than you can control. Pollen becomes a genuine household problem.

Jason sneezes every time you enter the Manor. “I hate spring.”

Dick is sitting beside you, weaving flowers into a crown. “You’re just jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Natural beauty.”

Jason stares at him. “I’m going to shoot you.”

Dick puts the flower crown on your head. “See? Gorgeous.”

You look at him. “You have added flowers to the flowers already growing from me.”

“Layers.”

“It is redundant.”

“Fashion.”

You stop trying to understand.

Autumn worries Dick the first year. Your leaves begin changing colour. You become slower. Quieter. More tired.

Dick knows you are not dying. You explain this several times. He still watches you closely.

“I am fine.”

“You slept twelve hours.”

“I require more rest during this season.”

Dick touches a brown leaf gently. “And this is normal?”

“Yes.”

“And that one?”

“Yes.”

“And—”

“Richard.” He goes quiet. You soften. “I am not leaving.”

Dick looks at you. He smiles faintly. “I know.”

He still keeps every leaf you lose that season. You discover a box months later.

“Why do you have these?” 

Dick looks guilty. “Sentimental value?”

“They are dead leaves.”

“Sentimental dead leaves.”

You cannot argue with him.

Winter is harder. You become lethargic. Flowers disappear. Your colour dulls.

Dick compensates by becoming aggressively cosy. Blankets. Warm lights. Soup. Films. He drags you into bed even though neither of you technically fits properly.

“I do not need this many blankets.”

“You’re cold.”

“I am dormant.”

“You’re cold and dramatic.”

“I am not dramatic.”

Dick looks at the giant creature currently lying across his apartment floor while lamenting the absence of sunlight. “Sure.”

You throw a pillow at him.

Dick takes thousands of photographs of you. Unlike Tim, who documents things for information, Dick takes pictures because he wants to remember.

You sleeping in sunlight. You covered in spring flowers. You with a butterfly sitting on one claw. You standing in the rain. You wearing sunglasses Steph bought despite the fact that your eyes function completely differently from human eyes. You looking irritated after discovering Dick has placed a tiny Nightwing mask on one of the flowers growing from your hair.

One day, you find an entire album. You flip through it slowly.

Dick walks in. Stops. “Oh.”

You look up. “You kept these.”

Dick becomes strangely shy. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

He shrugs. “I like looking at you.”

You stare at the photographs. In every one, you look alive. Not strange. Not monstrous. Alive.

Loved.

Dick’s love for you is loud. Not necessarily public. But constant. He says your name often. Touches you whenever he passes. Leaves notes. Brings snacks. Sends pictures of dogs he sees. Complains when you disappear into forests without phone reception. Calls just to hear your voice.

There is very little ambiguity with Dick. This is frightening in its own way.

You are ancient enough to know that love often hides itself. Dick does not.

One night, you ask, “Are you never afraid of loving things openly?”

Dick’s expression changes. “All the time.”

You blink. “Then why do you?”

He looks at you for a long moment. “Because I’ve lost people without getting enough time to love them.” His voice softens. “I’m not wasting what I get.”

That is the moment you understand him completely.

Loving Dick means learning that joy is not ignorance. You initially mistake his brightness for innocence. It is not.

Dick knows grief. Rage. Violence. Loss. He chooses joy anyway.

That fascinates you. You have watched forests burn and return. Rivers dry. Cities rise and fall. You understand resilience in nature. Dick teaches you what resilience looks like in a person.

It looks like laughter after grief. It looks like movement after pain. It looks like wearing bright blue in cities built from shadow. It looks like someone looking at a creature humans call monstrous and saying, You’re beautiful. Then saying it again. And again. Until one day, when you look at your reflection, you believe him.

Dick never asks you to become smaller. That is perhaps the most important thing.  He does not ask you to hide your claws. Cut your hair. Cover the flowers. Lower your voice. Bend your spine.

He climbs onto counters to kiss you when necessary. He sits on rooftops beside you while your legs hang several floors down. He dances beneath your hands. He learns your seasons. He loves your silences. He lets your hair take over his apartment despite finding leaves in places leaves should never physically be capable of reaching.

Dick Grayson has spent his life defying gravity. Loving you feels strangely similar.

Impossible to other people. Reckless from the outside. Terrifying when you first let go.And then—suddenly, you are not falling.

Sue shot him a look across the table, half of the bits of cereal falling from the side of his mouth to the table. His only response was an incredulous look her way, which was met with an affectionate eye roll from his sister.

“He probably just got caught up with something,” Sue tried to calm Ben’s nerves, bouncing little Franklin in her arms as he babbled out nonsense of some kind. That was enough to bring a smile to Sue’s face, her lips pressing a kiss to the side of his little head. “You know how Reed is.”

“Ben’s got a point, though,” Johnny chimed in, as the giant rock hand of his friend swiped his cereal box from his hands. With a defeated sigh, he decided he wasn’t going to start a fight over it, turning his gaze back to his sister and nephew. “Last time he was late for Sunday dinner it’s because you were pregnant and he was having an existential crisis. As much as I enjoyed that crisis, I think we’ve dealt with enough in the last few months.”

He wasn’t wrong, and he knew it. They all knew it. A year later and the aftermath of Galactus and Shalla-Bal still hung in the air. The implications of intelligent, threatening life out there in the universe casting a shadow over every news broadcast across the globe.

“That’s exactly my point,” Ben high fived Johnny from across the table, turning his gaze to Sue as well. “If he’s this caught up with something to miss family dinner, that means he found something.”

“And we all know when your husband finds something, that spells trouble for the rest of us,” Johnny lit his hand on fire for added effect, lips pursed as he waved the burning flames around gently in the air. “For example…cosmic radiation.”

It was clear that Sue wanted to argue with the pair, but Johnny knew there was no arguing with them. Their point was made, and that smirk on his face creeped in as Sue sighed, rising to her feet with Franklin situated on her hip.

“Alright, fine. Let’s go see what he’s up to,”

The chorus of cheers shared between Ben and Johnny from behind was surely making Sue roll her eyes once again. Any moments that Johnny was given to bother his brother in law in the lab was a win in his book.

Following his sister into the elevator, Johnny snapped his fingers in Ben’s direction as they descended toward the lab floor.

“10 bucks says it’s another alien woman,”

Ben’s groan sounded through the elevator, bouncing off the walls. Short laughter from Sue mixed in with it, even as she shook her head in response.

“Johnny, just because the first one dumped you, doesn’t mean you can go chasing after any alien woman in existence,”

“She never dumped me, for your information. She heroically sacrificed herself to save me because of her deep, profound love for me,” the shove Ben gave Johnny’s shoulder pushed him into the wall of the elevator. All he could do was shoot the rock man a glare, following his family out of the elevator and onto the lab floor, but not before pretending to grab at little Franklin’s nose to make the baby laugh. “Plus, I think it’s about time little Franklin got an auntie. A cool one.”

None of them were prepared for the mess of a lab they were stepping into.

Papers scattered the entire floor, from the workstation to the chalkboards. Those chalkboards had a thousand equations scattered across them: some scribbled out, others circled over a hundred times. Poor Herbie was frantically moving throughout the room, trying and failing to pick up every piece of paper that he could and bring some form of organization to the room.

“Uh, Suze,” it was Ben’s voice that cut in first, the trio stood just outside the elevator doors in mild shock at the state of the lab that was usually pristine. “I think your husband may have finally lost it.”

“That or he bought some drugs and tried them for the first time,” Johnny tacked on in a mumble that still got him an unimpressed look from his sister.

Johnny wasn’t wrong, though, and neither was Ben. Reed Richards looked like a certified mess.

He stood at the far end of the lab, moving between workstations at the deep blue tables lining the area in a half circle. He typed viciously, new data points mapped upon the screens adorning the walls. The middle screen, the largest, held a map to the entirety of New York City, markings appearing every so often in certain sections of the city before disappearing.

Even as the group approached, Reed never moved from his place, still typing away as he mumbled to himself.

“Reed,” Sue spoke up, just as her husband stalked across the floor once more.

The freshly written upon papers in his hands fell to the ground the second he laid eyes on them. Hair slightly disheveled, tie almost entirely undone, Reed Richards looked as if he had been rocked by a hurricane.

“Something is coming,”

Those were all the words he had to say. Johnny felt as if the air had been knocked from his lungs, as if all the oxygen in the room had been sucked straight out. He heard the sharp intake of breath from his sister first, before Ben stepped forward.

“Reed, what are you talking about?”

Ben quickly had multiple papers shoved into his hands as Reed gestured to the large screen showing the map of New York. One of the workstations beeped as the scientist quickly logged whatever data his system had just mapped out, another blip appearing on the screen that Reed pointed to desperately.

“For the last fifteen minutes, I’ve been tracking these energy signatures,” the map zoomed in on a focused location of the city. “They’re appearing at strange intervals. They started just a minute or two apart, but have grown to be just seconds apart now. All contained in an area between 24th and 17th street, in conjunction with Park Ave and 3rd Ave.”

“Gramercy Park?” Johnny chimed in, crossing his arms over his chest. He cocked his head slightly, looking at the map and the park that lay directly between the streets his brother-in-law had just named off. Honestly, he was still trying to understand what it was he was looking at, or just understand Reed’s mental state as a whole. “Maybe your baby proofing didn’t work and the Wizard is just out of prison.”

“That was my first thought as well, but the energy signatures proved me incorrect,” Johnny only rolled his eyes, running a hand down his face at Reed’s inability to take a joke. “These energy signatures are different, even more so than those of the Herald. It’s a culmination of dimensional energy–energy that’s being pulled from the fabric of the universe itself–it matches with energies given off by planets, or even stars themselves. But there’s another component to it, something so inherently not scientifically explainable that I can’t understand.”

Johnny shared a look with his sister and Ben, and even a look with confused little Franklin, before Sue chimed in.

“Okay, so there’s some weird space energy in the area-”

“Energy that has organic life woven into it,” Reed emphasized for those standing in front of him. He crossed the room back to his desk, pulling up a clear imaging of the energy itself from a nearby street camera that happened to catch the pulse. It was like a burst of blue strands, interwoven, pulsing and dousing the surrounding area in color, before it blinked away. “This energy beats, like a heartbeat. It moves organically, as if being pushed and pulled by someone. Compare these scans with a simple energy scan of any one of us, anyone in New York for that matter, and the fundamentals match perfectly. This isn’t some cosmic energy seeping into our earth for a moment, there’s something attached to it, something causing it. It’s forewarning something–someone.”

The lab grew quiet, the weight of Reed’s words hung in the air. For Johnny, they hung a little harder.

The last time something–someone–showed up on this Earth, he’d almost lost his family, lost his nephew. He had lost his sister, even for just a brief moment, but that was enough. Enough to never want to be put through this again. Johnny’s jaw clenched at the memory, his gaze flickering back to the screens.

“Why’s the park empty?” he questioned, gesturing to the live feed of the park from security cameras placed around light poles. “It’s not even 8 at night.”

“Suspicious activity in the area over the last week. I spoke to the mayor and had a curfew put in place out of an abundance of caution,” Sue chimed in.

“Okay, so another space alien is coming,” Ben clapped his hands together, the sound echoing as it drew everyone’s attention to him. “We threw the devourer of worlds through a portal to deep space…let’s just do that again.”

“This isn’t Galactus,” Reed muttered, voice just loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room as he turned back to the screens before him. “This is something else.”

Before anyone else could speak again, another pulsation of blue energy directly in the center of the park this time. Bigger than the others, strands of energy moving and beating in the air. Growing brighter, bathing the park in light.

The power of the building flickered for half a second before the live feed into the park cut off suddenly. Reed tapped incessantly, trying to bring it back, but it was no use.

“Reed…what is that?”

On the main screen, right in the center of the park on the New York City map, was one single blip of energy. Unlike the other blips, this one didn’t leave. It held steady.

“Johnny-” his name had barely left Reed’s mouth before Johnny was at the windows of the lab, swinging them open before streaking through the air in a blaze of red and orange.

No one was threatening his family again.

Gramercy Park wasn’t far away from the Baxter Building, especially not for a man who could light himself on fire and streak through the air at speeds humans couldn’t comprehend.

The park and every surrounding street was quiet the second his feet touched down on the pavement, flames dissipating from his body with a single thought.

The trees rustled above him in the night time breeze, stray leaves breaking off of the branches and falling to the ground. In the distance Johnny could faintly hear the usual sound of New York traffic, the muffled sound of sirens streets and streets away.

Straight ahead of him, down the path, laid the circle of greenery and flowers planted around the statue that sat in the middle of the park.

When he approached the center of the park apprehensively, flaming fist at his side ready to attack, the last thing he expected to see was you.

Pacing back and forth until the point he was sure you’d burn lines into the ground under your feet, you were glancing up at the sky over and over, muttering something to yourself. He cocked his head as he creeped closer, taking in the clothes that adorned your body: a pain of jeans adorned with so many tears and holes he couldn’t comprehend why you were still wearing them, and a tight fitting shirt that plunged way too far down your sternum to be considered decent to wear…anywhere. He wasn’t sure he’d even seen a woman wearing a shirt quite that revealing before.

His foot hit a single branch littering the pavement, ten feet from you now, before you froze and spun on your heels to face him. Johnny was pretty sure every bit of oxygen in the air was ripped away the second his eyes locked with yours.

Well, fuck, you are the prettiest fucking woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

It was the only thought capable of filtering through Johnny’s head. Reed must have gotten something wrong in his data, been tracking something that didn’t really exist, because there was no way that you were the blip that had appeared on the map. You were just another New Yorker–a drop dead gorgeous one, at that–who was out past the mandatory curfew…even if the clothing you bore threw him for a loop.

You didn’t look scared of him, his hand still burning with flames at his side. He could see the way your eyes drifted to the fire, head almost tilting in curiosity, before you glanced back at his face. Your hands were held out at your sides, fingers flexing as if you were prepared to defend yourself if the need arose. 

Johnny wasn’t going to hurt you. You were a civilian, one who should be in her home during this curfew. Just another normal civilian that he would definitely be coming back to this area for the following day so he could figure out where you worked, or which cafe you visited most often so he could orchestrate a way to run into you again-

His watch beeped, that familiar alert sound. Johnny’s eyes tore themselves away from you for just a second to glance down: an energy reading, matching the same one from Reed’s lab, pointed directly at you.

Way to go, Johnny. Get the hots for yet another alien woman that’s probably here to destroy your world and kill your family. Nice job. Way to go. Ben totally isn’t going to make fun of you for this.

“I’m not usually one for telling strong, pretty women what to do,” Johnny quipped, flames igniting on his other hands, both now burning bright at his sides. “But you’re out after curfew.”

“Curfew?” you had practically barked out a laugh, and fuck Johnny hated the fact that even your voice was pretty. Even as it was dripping in disbelief. “Yeah, right. I haven’t seen a single curfew ever go into effect in this city through the multiple alien incursions it’s seen.”

Johnny cocked his head immediately: multiple alien incursions? Given that Shalla-Bal was the only alien he’d watched descend into Times Square, he was utterly confused.

“Makes sense–given that you’re another one of those alien incursions–that you don’t know about the curfew,” flames burning just a tad bit brighter, crawling up his forearms, Johnny raised his hands in your direction as he took a cautious step forward. “I’d prefer not to hurt you, doll, so why don’t we do this peacefully and you just come with me?”

It happened in the blink of an eye. Johnny’s eyes never left you as your head tilted just slightly, a flash of blue crossing your eyes as your fingers twitched at your sides, before suddenly his arms were enveloped.

Like a casing of blue tinted energy, pulsing around his hands and up his forearms, the flames that ignited Johnny’s skin were extinguished in moments. Blue eyes shooting wide open, he shook his hands frantically. Willing himself in his head, telling his flames to ignite, but they wouldn’t. Every wave of his arms did nothing, the blue energy unmoving and shifting with him.

“No use trying, pretty boy. There’s not a single ounce of oxygen in the air around your arms right now, so I suggest you keep the flames at bay because I’d prefer not to do that to your entire body,” you shot back at him. With a single wave of your hand, the casing of energy dropped from around his arms. Johnny let the fires reignite for just a moment, confirming that he could indeed use his power again, before his wide eyes shot back to you.

“...I’m going to be so honest, I can’t tell if I’m terrified or completely turned on right now,”

“I’m, also, not an alien. I grew up upstate. And, why does Gramercy Park look so…weird?” Johnny’s comment was ignored, even though it was a valid question that he was trying to work out in his head. He instead watched you spin around on your heels, pointing around the park and up toward the surrounding buildings. “I know I haven’t left the Sanctum in a few days, but I feel like I would’ve heard construction. That building was never white, that one–wait, how did they build an above ground subway system? That wasn’t there three days ago when I got in, and I know for a fact the city doesn’t have the budget for this.”

In all of his life, Johnny Storm had never been more confused. He’d sat through countless lectures from Reed about matters of organic chemistry that he didn’t understand in the slightest, or cooking lessons from Ben that ended in him shoving his hand deep into a box of cereal, and this was more confusing then all of those combined.

Your clothing, something just about the way you talked and looked, whatever the hell this blue energy was it looked like you were controlling–and what the hell was a Sanctum?

“Back up…the Sanctum?” Johnny chose to start there as you turned back to him. He chose to keep his flames at bay, having a gut feeling that if you really did want to cut off the oxygen around him you could, and he wasn’t in the mood to deal with that. “Isn’t that, like, some type of Church thing? Are you from some weird alien cult?”

“I literally just told you I wasn’t an alien. The Sanctum Sanctorum, over on Bleeker street? You know…Wong, Stephen Strange, the Masters of the Mystic Arts?” you must have seen the confusion on his face grow, because Johnny could see the moment your back seemed to straighten. “Wait, you have no clue who they are? Actually–beyond that–you have powers. How do I not know who you are?”

“Great question, sweetheart. The Fantastic Four kind of just saved the world a year ago, so I’m about as lost as you are,”

Johnny wanted to be apprehensive, wanted not to trust a word you were saying. He wanted to be cautious, to put his walls up, because the last time someone had come down into his world like this, he’d almost lost everything.

But you weren’t Shalla-Bal. You weren’t standing on a silver surfboard, speaking with confidence and heralding the end of the world.

No, when Johnny looked at you now, he saw pieces of himself. Of little him, hugging Sue, losing their mother forever. Of the version of him that came back to Earth over four years ago forever changed: confused and scared. The version of him that locked himself away in Building Q, charring the sheets and everything around him as he cried, trying to understand what was happening.

“I meant what I said, by the way,” Johnny cut in, that usual charm infiltrating his words. You were still the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, and he was curious, more curious then he was the moment a woman coated in silver appeared in the air. You had his full attention, even if he was still trying to figure out who the hell you were, but he hoped showing off his charm would ease the tensions a bit. “You’re a very pretty woman…and I might be turned on right now, the jury is definitely still out on that one. Took my breath away when I first saw you, and you could literally do that if you wanted to. That’s hot.”

He watched as you huffed out the semblance of a laugh, still teetering back and forth on if he was a danger to you. Given the fact that you had demonstrated your ability to cut off his oxygen…he was hoping you wouldn’t see him as a threat anymore.

“Ah, a charmer, aren’t you? Knew someone like that, been awhile since I’ve seen someone so brazenly flirt with a woman,”

“Oh darling, that’s my whole brand,”

You hummed across from him, but he caught your body language. Slightly more at ease, not as rigid anymore.

“The Fantastic Four?” your eyebrow shot up, eyes still wide with confusion, but slightly less apprehensive than before, as you brought the conversation back to that name he’d dropped. “Bit of a pretentious name to give yourselves.”

“That was all the fans,” Johnny shot back with a hint of a grin. A ghost of a smile seemed to find your mouth as well, and Johnny mentally cheered to himself that it seemed he was able to convince you he wasn’t a threat to your life.

“Fair enough. The Avengers was chosen for us…I feel like I would’ve heard about another new superhero team being formed in our absence, though,”

Johnny’s confusion was back again as he mulled over your words.

“Avengers? What are they, some superpowered band?”

It was your turn to mull over his words.

“You…you don’t know who the Avengers are?”

There was a whirl through the air as Johnny watched you glance behind him. He turned too, eyes landing on the familiar blue of the Fantasti-Car landing behind him on the pavement, Sue, Reed and Ben stepping out just moments later, practically running down the pavement toward him.

“Johnny-!”

“No, no, wait!” he called out frantically, glancing back at you again. Your hands were rigid at your sides again, fingers flexing, eyes narrowed in a terrified glare in their direction. He glanced back at his family, holding out a hand for them to stop just behind him. “She’s not a threat, I swear!”

Ben’s thunderous steps came to a halt, his head thrown back to the sky as he let out the loudest sigh in the world. “Johnny, seriously, you can’t keep falling for every alien woman you meet-”

Johnny didn’t let him finish, spinning back around to face you. His eyes pleaded with you, hoping you would see his hesitance to hurt you, feet shuffling forward a few steps. You took one back for each step he made forward, that same blue energy dancing around your hands once again.

“I really don’t want to hurt you,” you spoke, voice steady and loud enough to carry through the air. Your eyes glanced past Johnny, to his family. “Any of you. It’s not who I am, that’s not what I do. But if I have to, I will.”

“We won’t,” Johnny promised, taking a glance back at his family. Ben seemed unsure, Reed apprehensive, but Sue watched him. Curious, unsure of what he might do next. He glanced back at you. “I won’t. We’re just as confused as you are right now.”

You laughed. “I really doubt that.”

Reed brought a device out from his pocket, that same alert that came from Johnny’s watch ringing through the air as he pointed it in your direction.

“It’s coming from her,” Reed announced. Johnny tried desperately not to roll his eyes and make a comment of ‘obviously’ toward his brother-in-law. “These readings are coming from her. I was right: she’s controlling this dimensional energy, bending it to her will.”

Johnny hung his head with a sigh, still mulling over making a comment as he turned his gaze back to you. It was apologetic, accented with an eyeroll, one that brought a hint of a smirk back to your face. It worked, though, as you dropped your hands, body relaxing once more as Johnny confirmed for you once again that they didn’t want to hurt you.

With a single flick of your wrist, the device in Reed’s hands was enveloped in that same energy, wrapping around it and carrying it over to your hands before their very eyes. Johnny froze, along with the three directly behind him, as they watched it happen.

“Not energy–well, not technically–it’s magic,” you explained, never taking your eyes off the device in your hands as you fiddled with the controls. “This thing is…so strange. It looks like such a primitive piece of tech but functions so modernly. Did you get this from Stark Industries? Is this some old prototype of Tony’s that Pepper sold you?”

“I designed it,” Reed answered after a moment. You hummed, flicking your hand again as the device made its way through the air and back to Reed’s hands. “Stark Industries, are they a foreign company? Do you work for them?”

Johnny watched that confusion bubble up in your features again, tinged with nerves now. He caught it, the way your leg began to shake as the pacing you’d been doing when he first showed  up resumed once again. All he could do was watch.

“T-This doesn’t make any sense. I’ve never heard of you guys, everything about New York looks different, you don’t know the Avengers, hell you don’t even know who Tony is!” you laughed, incredulously this time, as your eyes locked with Johnny’s again. “This has to be a joke, right? A-Are one of you Wong in disguise, trying to teach me a lesson for opening a book to perform a spell that I wasn’t supposed to touch-”

You stopped in the middle of your sentence.

Johnny took another step forward the second you cut your own words off with a gasp. Hand flying up to cover your mouth, your wide eyes never left him as he took a cautious step forward.

“We just want to help you. What are you talking about? Help us understand,”

“The Book of Vishanti,” you said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, like the four standing in front of you were supposed to understand it. “Wong thought I was ready for powerful light magic, h-he invited me so that he could show it to me, so that I could learn from it. I should’ve listened to him, I shouldn’t have snuck down there-”

Sue stepped up to Johnny’s side. He watched his sister, the easy look on her face, the understanding in her eyes, as she spoke softly to you.

“What happened before you showed up in this park?”

“I touched the book without him, I thought I could teach myself things without him,” you spoke quickly, shaking your head frantically. “I could barely read the spell and yet I performed it anyway. Either I fucked it up, or I did it right and I didn’t know what I was doing because…this isn’t my earth. It can’t be, not with all the differences.”

Reed and Ben joined either side of Johnny and Sue now, all four of them staring down at you in front of them as you came to a realization of what had truly happened.

Through it all, Johnny just couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Curiosity pulled at him, more than it ever had before.

“What are you saying?” Reed chimed in.

“I’m saying this isn’t my universe…I think I accidentally traveled the multiverse, and I have no idea how to get back,”

❤︎

Performing a spell from the Book of Vishanti that you couldn’t yet read was, in hindsight, probably the worst idea that you had ever had in your entire young adult life.

When the Sorcerer Supreme believes that you’re ready to handle a book such as that, lined with the most powerful magic and spells and knowledge of light magic that have ever existed…it’s not hard to get an ego about it and jump the gun. You could already hear the berating you’d get from Wong, the things that Steve would’ve said to you if he was still around, the things that Sam most definitely would say to you when you got back to Washington.

If you ever got home, that is.

It was a thought you tried not to dwell on. Every night, as you closed your eyes, you saw them. The ones still here, the ones taken from you even as you fought with every ounce of you to save them all. The final look in your best friend’s eyes before she destroyed the version of herself that she had become, destroying what felt like a piece of you in the process. All so you could wind up in a world without any of them, a universe so far away from your own, nursing what felt like a shattered heart as you tried to find a way home.

You cried enough every time your head hit the pillow of the bed that wasn’t yours, you wouldn’t let the tears find you during the day too.

To their credit, the Fantastic Four were the most welcoming and kind group of people you’d ever met. If a strange woman basically crash landed in your universe, claiming to be a witch, you too would probably have hesitated. But here you were, a week later, having taken up the space on the unused guest floor of the Baxter Building at the insistence of Susan Storm. Trapped in a universe so similar to your own, but so different.

You weren’t alive in the 60s of your Earth, but now you got the chance to experience it firsthand…with a twist. It was strange how retro and yet futuristic this Earth was. The technology was advanced, sometimes more advanced than anything you had seen in your own universe, and that was all thanks to Dr. Reed Richards. You had thought that Bruce Banner and his 7 PhDs was the smartest person you would ever meet, but Reed and his 18 Doctorate degrees blew him out of the water by miles. But beyond the advanced technology of the world, everything else was still so primitive.

The clothing was different, more modest and brightly colored than anything you were used to seeing before. The hairstyles were different, sometimes shorter, almost always poofier than they were in the 2020s. They talked differently, the music was different, everything felt so familiar and yet so wrong at the same time.

This little team, this family you had stumbled upon, had been nothing but helpful, even if they were still wrapping their minds around the idea of the multiverse. The protectors of their Earth, the only superheroes this universe had compared to the plethora yours seemed to have, but some of the most down to earth people you had ever met. Reed Richards was abrasive sometimes, but curious, asking a thousand questions when you would venture out of the guest floor about your magic and the scientific properties surrounding it and its composition. Ben Grimm was kind, giving you space, but always dropping off something to eat on the guest floor for you every day. Sue Storm was kind and bright, strolling in with confidence and her son, Franklin, perched on her hip, filling your closet with an array of clothing to wear so that you would be comfortable.

Johnny Storm followed you like a puppy dog, hanging off every word you spoke and popping up in every corner of the building you found yourself in, much like he was now.

“Find anything in there?”

You rolled your eyes, tossing the book borrowed from the city library onto the coffee table of the guest floor living room. It landed with a thud on the multiple other books that Sue had picked up for you before you glanced over your shoulder, seeing Johnny stalking toward the couch you were sitting upon from the elevator.

“Just more confirmation that witches don’t seem to exist in your universe, except in the fairy tales," you shot back with a sigh. Your gaze turned to the floor to ceiling windows adorning the wall before you, giving you a glimpse of the New York skyline as night crept in on it, the sun dipping below the horizon line in the distance. “Which leaves me with exactly what I started with: nothing.”

Johnny hummed, hands grasping the back of the couch from beside you as he too glanced out over the skyline. The record player in the corner played some Elvis tune, something to fill the silence.

“Can’t you just, like, do the spell again to get home?”

“If I knew what spell I did, probably,” came your answer as you glanced over to him, finding his blue eyes already watching you. “No clue what spell I did, so without that I have no means of traversing the multiverse.”

Your gaze watched him as he left the couch, stalking across the room toward the record player. Another eye roll left you as he plucked the Elvis record off the turntable in seconds, muttering something about how that record ‘wasn’t good enough,’ before combing the collection beside it for another one.

This wasn’t the first time he’d done this over the course of the week. It felt like Johnny Storm practically lived on this guest floor with you: he’d brought his dinner down every night to eat with you, lounged around the living room while you searched through book after book, and had gone through every bit of clothing his sister had procured for you and made comments about which ones he thought you’d look best in (spoiler alert: it was every single item).

You didn’t entirely mind. His presence felt like a soothing balm over the pain that still sat within you, his ability to joke and make anyone around him smile, able to slap a bandaid over what felt like a gunshot.

“What’s music like in the 2020s?” he called out from across the room, settling on a Bob Dylan record instead that he dropped the needle down onto. “Does everyone have giant record collections now, ones that would rival my own?”

“Music is…much different than what you’re used to now,” was the response you settled on, chuckling slightly as you tried to imagine the man across the room listening to the likes of Eminem or even Taylor Swift. Taking a sip of your drink settled on the table in front of you, you dug your now dead cell phone out of your pocket, waving it around. “We listen off our phones, can connect headphones to them wirelessly. Vinyl collections are usually just collections now, not typically used to play music.”

Your cell phone was plucked straight out of your hands by Johnny himself, who had crossed the room with impressive speed. With a chuckle, you shook your head at his antics, leaning your head against your hand as you watched him inspect the dead device.

“I should tell Reed to invent this thing. Have to use that big brain for something useful,”

“And somewhere in Chicago, I can hear Martin Cooper crying that his invention is about to be stolen,”

Johnny tossed your phone back onto the cushion next to you without another thought, plopping down right next to it. Head thrown back against the back of the couch, he turned to look at you again with a giddy grin.

“Ignore the little talking box device for now, can you show me more of your magic?”

That was the question Johnny had asked at least three times a day in the week you had been on his earth. It was cute, the way his eyes would light up with excitement like a little kid every single time you showed him something new. That sparkle in them, the grin that lit up his face every single time, as he’d beg you to show him again.

You tried not to focus too much on how cute it actually was.

“What haven’t I shown you at this point?” you laughed, smile bright, though you already knew the answer. There was a neverending stream of things you could show him.

“There has to be something,” he sat up a little straighter, leaning even more into your personal space now. “Come on, I have a witch sitting in front of me. I thought those only existed in movies and books. You can’t blame a guy for being interested, baby.”

Ignoring that pet name that so easily fell from Johnny’s lips, you took a quick glance around the room. Acting as the centerpiece of the table sat a fresh bouquet of wildflowers, curated by Sue herself and brought up as a gift. Leaning forward, you plucked a single daisy from the bunch, leaning back and holding it in the space between you and Johnny.

Your eyes never stopped watching him as that familiar swirl of blue magic seeped from you, enveloping the delicate flower. The thin, white petals merged together into five beautiful petals, the white coloring fading into an enchanting ombre of orange and pink. Then, as fast as it started, your magic dissipated and the blue hue that lit up Johnny’s face disappeared.

He took the new flower from you with the brightest of grins, a sight that stirred something deep within your chest you were keen to ignore. He took a single sniff, eyes glancing back to you as his smile slipped into a charming little smirk.

“What did that poor daisy ever do to you?”

“It wasn’t a Plumeria,” you shot back with a slight laugh, plucking the flower from his hand and slipping it back into the vase. “They’re my favorite flower.”

“Noted,” he casually stretched his arm over the back of the couch, resting it over the portion directly behind your head, as that charming smirk grew even more. “Want them incorporated into the wedding decor, or should I pin one to my suit jacket so you can see it while we stand together at the altar?”

With a bright laugh, your hand met his face, pushing him back slightly as you rose from the couch, sauntering over into the kitchen with your empty glass. You could feel his eyes on you with every step.

“I have to hand it to you, Johnny, your flirting this past week has definitely gotten more brazen with each passing hour. Be careful, you might fall in love,”

“Too late, that happened when you first turned around,” shooting a glance back at him on the couch, he dramatically flopped backward on the cushions, pretending an arrow had just struck him in the chest. It was impossible not to shake your head and laugh at the sight. “I took one look at you and thought…wow, that’s the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

You hummed in response, pouring yourself another glass.

“Does your charm and your flattery typically get you places with the ladies?”

“Depends, is it working right now?”

Ben had warned you about Johnny’s charming personality and what would surely be incessant attempts at flirting, but you hadn’t thought the man would be as persistent as he had been this past week.

You’d taken to keeping a running list in your head of some of your favorite lines of Johnny’s that he’d thrown your way.

Are love spells a thing? You could put one on me and I wouldn’t even notice: I’m already too far gone for you, baby.

Do you think you fell into our universe because you and I were made to find each other?

Before you head back to your universe eventually, we should send you back with the last name Storm. I think it fits you nicely.

Each one had made you laugh, and you begrudgingly had to admit that most of them were quite cute. It helped that Johnny Storm was as charming as they came.

From the moment you had laid eyes on him in that park that night you’d known it. This man was a heartbreaker, a face that girls across the world surely had hanging on their bedroom walls and were fawning over. Magazines called him a playboy, his personal fan club, The Flaming Hearts, swooned at his feet over how he was the ideal man women should strive for. You saw why they fawned: Johnny was attractive, anyone with eyes could see it. Perfectly swept to the side blonde hair, blue eyes that felt deeper than the ocean, and the charm and wit to have you laughing into the night.

He could flirt all he wanted, but it was going to take more than a flirty comment and a pretty smile to make you feel a thing. Johnny Storm wasn’t the first charming man you’d ever encountered, and he surely wouldn’t be the last.

“Sorry, pretty boy,” you shook your head, finishing off your glass that you’d just poured before dumping it into the sink for later. “Takes a little more than superficial flattery to butter me up.”

“I’m pretty sure you just called me pretty, that has to count for something,”

“It doesn’t,” you shot back, leaning against the island counter as you looked across the room toward him. Johnny was rolling off the couch in the most unelegant way, hopping back up to his feet to lean against the other side of the counter from you, shooting you a wink.

“You know what they say–denial is the first step to falling in love,”

“Acceptance. The quote ends in acceptance,” you barked out another laugh, shaking your head as the man as you stood up straighter. “Now, what did you actually come up here for, or was it just to bother me?”

Johnny clapped, eyes going wide as he seemed to remember exactly why he’d come upstairs in the first place.

“Right! It’s Sunday, family dinner night. You’re invited, and I was volun-told to come and get you,”

“Of course, because I’m sure you really protested being given that job,”

As charming as ever, he shot you another wink as he banged his hands on the table.

“You already know me so well, darling,”

“Are the pet names necessary?”

“Why, are they making you swoon?” yet another wink was shot at you.

“Johnny, I’m sure your charm works on just about every other woman in this universe. You want me to swoon? It’s going to take a lot more than that,” you pointed toward the shirt on his body, the bright blue logo over his chest shining in the light. “Plus, wearing your own team merch all the time? How superficial of you.”

He feigned hurt over your comment, looking down at the logo himself.

“I’m just representing the team. Plus, it’s comfortable, like our suits are too,” Johnny instantly snapped his fingers, eyes wide again as he giddily smiled toward you across the counter. “Your suit! You’ve never shown me your superhero suit! Come on, I’m dying with anticipation here, baby.”

Even as you rolled your eyes, you indulged his request. With a single flick of your wrist, your clothing shimmered in blue tendrils of magics, transforming it into the suit you knew like it was a second skin. Reinforced black and blue fabric that trailed high up your neck and down to your wrists, down your waist and finally tucked into the black boots that sat directly below your knees. That shimmering silver “A” still sat on your belt, something you were never able to part with.

Johnny let out a low whistle, teeth biting into his bottom lip as his eyes scanned you up and down over and over again.

“Hot damn…remember that comment I made about being turned on? Yeah, yeah this is doing it for me,”

With yet another eye roll, something you were learning you did quite frequently around him, you waved off the magic and dissipated the suit once again. The look you shot at him was anything but impressed, even if you were trying to hold back laughter.

“Why are you like this?”

Before some other flirty comment could fall from his lips, the elevator dinged across the room, its large doors sliding open. Neither of you were expecting it to be little Franklin Richards stumbling out on his tiny, wobbly legs.

Tufts of blonde hair on his head, blue eyes wide as could be, a happy little smile overtook his face as he spotted the two of you in the kitchen. His little hands clapped together, incoherent but otherwise happy babbles falling from his lips.

“Frankie! What has your mom told you about playing with the elevator, little guy?”

Johnny was across the room in seconds, sweeping Franklin into his arm with a single swipe. The laughter of little Franklin echoed through the room as Johnny dipped him, practically holding the little guy upside down, before spinning him upright. The little boy wearing a matching grin to his uncle, the man he could practically be a twin of, continued to laugh as Johnny pulled his shirt up, blowing a raspberry directly into his stomach and muttering something about how ‘magic babies never listen to their mothers.’

The skip your heart did at the sight was enough to have the beginnings of a flush crawling up your skin. Maybe his charm didn’t work on you, not his flirty jokes, but this? Seeing the side of Johnny Storm that the media didn’t see, the part that wasn’t the persona he played up for the world, was enough to bring a soft smile to your face and to fully understand why people across the world fell for him so easily.

Willing the blush to go away, desperate to hide the evidence that you did, in fact, find this man cute, you stalked across the room until you came to stand beside the man and his laughing nephew. They both turned to look at you, looking like twins with their bright smiles and blue eyes. Another round of giggles fell from Franklin as you swiped your finger over the edge of his nose slightly, pushing past them both toward the waiting elevator.

“Well, come on then. Guess I shouldn’t be late for my first family dinner with the Fantastic Four,”

In all honesty, you needed Johnny to put Franklin down. He looked too adorable, making faces at the little boy as he pressed the button for the main living area on the elevator. Franklin just continued to clap, babbling nonsense.

“You’re good with him,” you cut through the silence after a moment, smile still soft as you watched the two of them beside you in the confined space.

Johnny glanced up, an air of sheepishness finding him as he laughed lightly, looking back at Franklin. The little boy was watching you once again.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? Always loved kids,”

Bringing your hand up between the two of you, with a single thought you let a little ball of blue magic appear along your fingertips. Franklin’s eyes widened, following the movement of the little ball of magic as you rolled it around your fingertips, dancing it around his head and back to your hand.

Your eyes flickered to Johnny after a moment. His head rested against the wall of the elevator still slowly moving its way down. His smile was soft, softer than you’d seen it look at you before this week, his eyes holding a gentle pensiveness as they watched you.

“What?” you questioned lightly. He shrugged, adjusting Franklin on his hip.

“Nothing. You’re just good with him, too,”

“Well, he’s not the first baby in my life,” you answered, the edges of your smile dropping just a fraction as you thought about her. The little girl that was only, what, 6 years old now? Brown hair and eyes just like her father’s, the wit and sass to match it. Universes away from you, a little piece of someone you used to hold so dear that you may never see again.

“Whoever you’re thinking about,” Johnny was more observant than you gave him credit for, picking up immediately on the thoughts that seemed to plague your mind, even if he didn’t know the full extent of them. His fingers lightly grazed your cheek, an action that you so wished didn’t feel so nice. Comforting, warm with the heat that burned within him, brushing a strand piece of hair back behind your ear, tucking it there. You met his gaze, burning with a quiet determination. “You’ll see them again. We’ll get you home.”

Ignoring the slight flutter behind your ribcage, you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, you’re suddenly content with letting me go? I remember Ben telling me yesterday that you were planning to keep me trapped here forever,”

His laughter echoed into the living room as the doors to the elevator pushed open, allowing the three of you to step out into the room fully. Ben was hard at work in the kitchen, calling out things to their little helper robot, Herbie, who zoomed around the kitchen at his command. Reed’s arm stretched out across the room, setting the table without ever leaving the kitchen, his other arm wrapped around his wife as Sue laughed at something he said.

“Oh I’ll help get you home, but there are conditions to your departure,” Johnny shot back, walking alongside you toward the dining room. “The one non-negotiable is that you have to leave unequivocally in love with me-”

“Whoa, that’s a big word for you, Johnny-”

“You also have to leave admitting that I’m the most charming man that you’ve ever met-” he cut back in, cutting you off after you had cut him off.

“I mean, you’re definitely on your way to joining the ranks of Tony, Quill, and Joaquin-”

“You also have to leave with the last name Storm,” Johnny spun, back facing the kitchen, as he shot you a wink. “We can negotiate that one. I don’t want to rush our wedding, but I’d prefer you go back home with it. A little something to remember me by.”

Sue Storm was quick to slap Johnny on the shoulder as he dipped into the kitchen, practically tossing the laughing baby into his sister’s arms, before ducking around her to dip his hand into the pot of sauce that Ben was working to season. His rocky hand whacked Johnny on the shoulder, who pretended to crumble to the ground in pain as Ben cried out “you haven’t even washed your hands!”. Reed’s arm stretched across the room, coming between the two and pushing his brother-in-law to the other side of the kitchen without a word, trying to maintain a semblance of peace.

Sue sighed, pressing a kiss to her son’s head, before she turned to you: still standing still, frozen in place by the dining room table, watching the events before you unfold with a smile you couldn’t hide if you tried.

“Welcome to family dinners,” she told you with a laugh, Ben once again yelling at Johnny in the background as he dipped his hand into a cereal box. “Before you ask: yes, it is always this chaotic.”

The chaos was nice, it almost felt like home. A home you hadn’t known for years now. Watching them, you could almost picture them all, the family you used to have: a flash of Natasha’s red hair in your head, the sound of Steve’s laughter, Tony’s quips that Sam always met back just as quick, Wanda muttering to you about how you worked with idiots.

Johnny’s eyes met yours again, a soft smile and a playful wink sent your way before he ducked out of the way of Ben’s arm again, and that was somehow enough to soothe that ache in your heart for just one night

❤︎

“I know people usually look exhausted after leaving Reed’s lab…but you were down there for two hours. I’m surprised you’re alive,”

Stalking across the room into the kitchen of the Baxter Building, you faked a laugh in Ben’s direction, dipping into the fridge for a bottle of water to nurse the headache you could feel approaching. The man let out a laugh at your actions, shaking off his oversized trench coat and tossing it over toward the dining room as he placed the multiple paper bags in his hands down on the counter.

“I am, too,” you shot back at him, hopping up onto the island counter beside him to sit. Ben just laughed at your antics, rifling through the bags on the counter from the market down the street. “He asked for more blood tests, so I consented even though I told him he’s not going to find any answers to why I have magic in my blood.”

“And did he?”

“NO!”

Ben’s laugh thundered through the room as he put some of the groceries away in the cupboards. Returning to the island counter, he dipped into a smaller, white paper bag, producing a small sleeve of paper holding a warm cookie within. The headache you felt coming on almost completely dissipated the second the sweet smell filled the air.

“Good thing I grabbed some of these, then. Eat, before you pass out from blood loss,” you didn’t argue, taking the gooey chocolate chip cookie from him with a smile and sinking your teeth in. “It’s from Maisie’s. Figured it was about time I showed you the best cookies in town, not sure how I held off for two months.”

Two months. It was a time period you tried not to dwell on. If you thought too long about how long you’d been stuck in another universe with no way back home, you were sure you’d start spiraling more than you did every night that your head hit the pillow of the guest floor. The guest floor that was slowly just becoming your floor.

If you thought about it too long, you’d remember how you were starting to forget the sound of Sam’s laugh. How this was the longest you’d gone without visiting Pepper, how Morgan was probably asking where you were. You hadn’t put flowers at Nat’s grave in so long, you could only hope her sister had gone and changed the flowers.

“Well, it’s quite good,” with a slight shake of your head, you sent Ben a strained grin, enjoying the taste of the cookie. It wasn’t a lie, it was quite possibly the best cookie you’d ever had. 

Ben hummed, holding your gaze for a moment, before he smiled. It was soft, but you could see it woven in: the pity.

“Thinking about home?”

You swallowed, both the bite of the cookie you’d taken and the lump that formed in your throat.

“Yeah…always am. I hate how good you are at reading me, by the way,” Ben chuckled at your comment, returning to putting the rest of the groceries away in their designated spots. “Reed offered to invent multidimensional travel again today.”

“Did you say yes?”

“No, I turned him down like I do every time,” Ben returned as you shook your head with a wry laugh. “It sucks because I know he could do it, he’d have me home within a week. But multiverse traversal spells exist, they have for a very long time, which means they obviously don’t blow a hole in the space-time continuum. I don’t need Reed to accidentally blow a hole in the entire multiverse just to get me home.”

Ben hummed. Placing one hand on the counter, his other rocky hand laid across both of your legs, delivering the slightest of squeezes in comfort that he was able to. You looked up, meeting his eyes, and practically melted under the kindness and comfort in them.

“You’re going to go home, I promise you that. You’re homesick: it’s where you belong, it’s full of the people you love, and we’ll get you back there. But think of it like this: you’re in a different universe, how many people get to experience that? Take it in, enjoy it, learn from it, eat all the Maisie’s cookies this world has to offer. The people you love will still be waiting for you back home, no matter how long it takes to get there,”

He moved away, his hand sliding back down to his side and he returned to the groceries. But his words stuck with you, hung in the air, settled deep within you.

The quiet hung there in the room for a moment as you just watched him, placing cereal box after cereal box on a shelf near the fridge. He met your gaze again when he turned around, rocky brow raising in question as you let a sigh slip past your smiling lips.

“You remind me a lot of Steve,” Ben waited, letting you collect your thoughts, never pushing. “He always knew what to say, especially to me. That’s how it feels talking to you a lot, like I’m talking to him again. I…I miss being able to talk to him.”

“Well, you can talk to me anytime,” he motioned his hand toward the cupboards of the island counter blocked by your legs. Sliding off the countertop, you stepped to the side as he bent down to put another bag away. “Who do the others remind you of?”

You mulled the question over in your head, grabbing a bag from the counter and helping Ben place the rest of the groceries away across the kitchen.

“I think Reed has to be Bruce, simply because they’re both too smart of their own good. Sue reminds me a lot of Natasha, with the way she takes care of everyone. Nat was quiet about it, but she was always picking up after the boys. Johnny…unfortunately reminds me of Tony. He’s got his same sass, wit, charm and flirtatious nature,”

Ben waved his hand in the air, a grimace on his face.

“Please, no, I don’t want to think about there being another Johnny out there in the multiverse,” you laughed, catching the bottle he threw in your direction to slot into the fridge. “Speaking of matchstick, where’s he at? He’s usually attached to your hip, what with his whole plan of whatever he calls it-”

“Ah, you mean Johnny Storm’s Complete Guide to the 60s?”

It was the dumbest name in the world, but given that Johnny had named it, you weren’t surprised. He’d taken it upon himself to give you a complete guide to what the 60s were like, with the added footnote that the weirdly futuristic 60s they lived in was bound to be different than the 60s of your own universe. Johnny had claimed you were too ‘cooped up’ on your floor of the building, and it was time you got out and ‘lived a little’ since you were here.

Johnny’s guide to the 60s began with bowling. He’d been so excited, sliding into those custom shoes for the alleyways, that you didn’t have the heart to tell him until you were beating him by 70 points in the 8th frame that bowling was very much the same game in the 2020s.

“No, that’s unfair!” Johnny had called out, mouth dropped open as he pointed an accusatory finger in your direction. The manual scoresheet in his hand was all but crumpled at this point. “You didn’t tell me bowling was still a thing!”

“To be fair, Johnny, you didn’t ask,” was the only response you could manage through your laughter, grabbing your ball once more and aligning yourself with the lane in front of you. “Bowling is very much still around, and very much the same game. I guess you just aren’t as good at it as you think you are.”

You weren’t laughing long, a spark of heat igniting along the back of your hand just as you let go of your ball. Your hand jerked immediately at the feeling, sending your ball rolling straight into the gutter. Mouth dropped open, it was your turn to point an accusatory finger in Johnny’s direction.

“Hey!”

“Leveling the playing field here, baby,” he teased, skirting by you as his fingers bumped your chin slightly, before he grabbed his own ball as his body was racked with laughter. “Now, let me show you how good I really am at this game.”

Johnny’s own laughter was short-lived. His ball made it halfway down the lane before coming to a sudden stop along the slick surface, surrounded by a hum of blue magic that flicked it off into the gutter. His betrayed face turned to face you, met with your smirk and hand held out toward the ball. You only batted your eyelashes at him.

“Hey, if you’re going to level the playing field with powers, then I am too. It’s only fair,”

“Oh, I’m going to show you fair-”

The laughter that poured out of you mixed with a shriek the second Johnny practically tackled you, throwing your body over his shoulder like it was nothing and parading you down the alley, highfiving little kids along the way as you could do nothing but laugh, smile never slipping for a second.

Go-Karting, on the other hand, was definitely a little different in the 60s. The karts themselves were much different, a lot less structurally sound at times and incapable of doing the speeds that you knew Johnny really had wanted to drive them at. He had claimed to win the race fair and square, even as you pointed out that he’d gone as far as to melt one of your tires right before you crossed the finish line.

Record stores, golfing, roller-skating, you named it and Johnny dragged you off to do it. He filled every moment with vibrant stories: the record store was one that Sue liked to take him to when they were growing up, golf was something he fell in love with after coming back from space with powers, and how roller skating was something he swore he’d never do, but the smile on your face the entire time had been well worth it.

The diner had been your favorite. Griddles & Waffles, nestled deep in the heart of Queens. A 24/7 joint that sold breakfast and breakfast only, a beloved place by locals. Johnny had been awake into the early hours of the morning that night, the only one still up, diving into a box of cereal buried in the kitchen when you screamed. The next thing you knew, he was practically diving out of the elevator onto your floor as you shakily grabbed a glass of water in the kitchen, eyes wide and panicked as he informed you that he could hear you scream floors away. One look at the state you were in and he was shoving you into the hoodie he was wearing and shoving you out of the building and into his car.

“You took me to a place with waffles in the name, and you ordered pancakes?”

Johnny’s eyebrow shot up, half of the stack of pancakes in front of him practically shoved into his mouth as he pointed the fork in his hand in your direction.

“Don’t you ever diss these pancakes, you hear me? Best flat pieces of dough in the entire state of New York,”

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly under your breath as he barely got his words out through the food in his mouth. Taking another bite of your own waffle, it was easy to get lost in the decor of the diner. Bright colors, shiny metal gleaming under the lights, it looked exactly like the recreations that existed in your own universe. The simple thought of home brought your frown back in seconds, and Johnny was instantly snapping his fingers.

“No, there’s no frowning in Griddles & Waffles, you hear me?” you rolled your eyes, but that simple thought weighed heavy on you, lips still pulled into a frown. Johnny made some motion toward the waitress before he leaned into the table toward you, drawing your gaze to him and his waiting, patient, gentle eyes. “Honey, I’m surprised that scream didn’t wake anyone else up. What’s wrong?”

“It was nothing. Just a nightmare…a memory of a day I don’t like thinking about,” you tried to deflect, shoving your fork around your plate, scraping it against the ceramic. Johnny’s hand caught yours, his eyes still soft and gentle, as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze until you relented. “It’s…I don’t like talking about it. I don’t get nightmares about it often anymore, but when I do, it feels like I’m there again: in that forest full of nothing but blood and dust.”

The blonde hummed, fingers gently rubbing small circles into your knuckles. His skin was warm, unusually warm from the heat that coursed through him, the feel of it on your skin bringing a sense of comfort. Then, he took his hand away, holding both his hands out like he was presenting something, that dazzling smirk of his lighting up his face.

“Have no fear, because Griddles & Waffles has the perfect cure for sadness!”

The waitress came back, sliding a single tall glass onto the table between the two of you with two straws tossed down onto the tabletop. You glanced at it: one large, over the top, classic chocolate milkshake with a large cherry resting right on top. You looked back up at him, your eyebrow raised this time.

“A milkshake? At two in the morning?”

“Have some faith in me, baby,” Johnny teased, slipping the two straws into the shake with ease. He took the cherry between his fingers, easily biting off the majority of the fruit as he twirled the stem between his teeth. Your eyes flicked down for just a second, to the stem between his lips and the hint of red juice that covered them, before your skin flushed and your eyes were back on his. “This is about to be the best milkshake you’ve ever had, and it’s going to cure every bit of sadness in your body.”

Johnny was known for exaggerating, but you indulged him anyway. With a short eyeroll you leaned in, taking a single sip from the straw pointed in your direction. Johnny waited, his smile wide and bright as his fingers tapped against the table, the sound echoing through the mostly empty diner in the middle of the night.

“...alright, it’s pretty damn good,”

His cheer echoed through the diner, the waitress shooting him an unimpressed look as his hands banged down on the table. Another round of laughter slipped past your lips as you shook your head at his antics.

“See? You have to trust me more often,” Johnny teased, leaning in to take a sip of the shake from his own straw. “These milkshakes are the cure to sadness.”

You didn’t have the guts in that moment to tell him the shake didn’t cure anything. No, you felt lighter simply from that boyish grin and the laughter that fell from Johnny Storm’s lips, something you weren’t keen to admit quite yet.

“Talking about me, baby? I leave you alone in the lab for a few hours and you miss me that much?”

As if hearing his name from floors away, Johnny Storm himself came strutting straight into the kitchen, charm rolling off him with every step he took. That smile of his was as bright as ever, eyes wide and full of mirth.

He practically skipped up to your side, tossing the box of food in your hand somewhere onto the counter. Cradling your hand in his, he brought it to his lips without another thought, pressing a featherlight kiss to your knuckles. His gaze never wavered from you the entire time.

With a roll of your eyes, though paired with a smile full of affection, you shoved him off, placing the box of food he’d just tossed away into its rightful place as you shot him a look over your shoulder.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Johnny. Contrary to what you think, you are not the only thing I’m thinking about,”

“You see, but that implies that I am one of the things you’re thinking about,” his response came easily as he made his way over to Ben, stealing one of Maisie’s cookies from the bag before he could be stopped. Ben only let out a sigh that could probably be heard from the other side of the city. “Nevermind that, though, I came here on a mission. The sun is setting and we’ve got a 40 minute drive, so get upstairs and attempt to look even cuter than you already do, if that’s possible.”

Exchanging a quick look with Ben as Johnny walked backwards out of the kitchen and back into the living room, you both looked back at the blonde moments later.

“Get ready for what?” you questioned. “To go where?”

“Long Island, sweetheart. Your guide to the 60s continues tonight,” he paused at the stairway, one hand on the railing and the other pointing across the room toward you. “Meet me in the lobby in ten minutes, got it?”

You considered arguing, but the truth was, you didn’t want to. Every one of these excursions with Johnny so far had been fun, had been enough to fill that little hole in your chest for a fleeting moment, and right now you wanted that more than anything.

“Alright, ten minutes,”

He clapped, beginning to move up the stairs as he practically shouted across the room.

“Good girl. It’s a date-”

“It is not a date-” your words fell on deaf ears as he went sprinting up the stairs, yelling out a distant “It very much is a date!” from the next floor. It was impossible to ignore the heat spreading in your cheeks at his words, though.

The silence of the room only hung there for a minute before Ben’s laughter filled it, echoing off the walls. Shutting your eyes for a moment, you let out a deep breath, trying to understand the enigma that was Johnny Storm sometimes, before patting Ben on the shoulder as you moved toward the elevator.

“Well, wish me luck on whatever this next excursion is. Hopefully it doesn’t involve him almost whacking me in the head with a golf club again,”

“You’ll be just fine,” Ben called out from the kitchen, speaking through his laughter. You could clearly hear the underlying teasing tone to his words. “Have fun on your date-”

“Benjamin, don’t start with me!”

It might not have been a date, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to try. There really was no reason to, though: Johnny had seen you at your worst over the last two months. Always arriving on your floor sometimes at the crack of dawn with an idea for the day, startling you before you even had a chance to wipe away the mess of tears streaking across your cheeks from yet another nightmare you’d just awoken from.

It wasn’t a date. Just because you chose the cutest pair of pants and a sweater that the closet full of 60s style clothes offered didn’t mean anything. Not a damn thing.

You hated to admit how good Johnny looked in just a simple grey sweater and some slacks. Strutting toward you through the lobby of the Baxter Building, employees already sent home for the day and leaving the lobby bathed in silence, he let out a short whistle as he came to a stop in front of you.

“You say it’s not a date, but you sure do look nice,”

“That’s because your sister filled my closet with all nice clothing,” you shot back.

Johnny hummed, eyes still scanning you up and down. Eyes finding yours again, he held out his arm to you, just as he typically did on these little excursions.

“Come on,”

Hand resting in the crook of his elbow, the cool night air sank deep into your bones as you stepped outside. Johnny’s hand was quick to find the handle to the passenger side door of his custom blue Corvette, swinging it open and taking your hand in his to help you into the leather seat, just as he always did. 

The leather made a noise as you shifted, buckling yourself into place as Johnny cooly slid into the driver’s seat. One hand rested on the wheel, the other drumming along the knob of the gearshift as his foot hit the gas, sending you speeding out of the drive of the Baxter Building and onto the roads of New York.

“What’s today’s adventure?” you asked after a few moments of silence. Johnny’s grin simply brightened, his glance finding you beside him for a second before his fingers turned the knobs of the radio on, filling the call with music as he continued to cruise down the streets he knew like the back of his hand.

“That’s a surprise, sweetheart. Just enjoy the drive,”

It was easy to enjoy it. The same city you’d grown up in, yet so different at the same time. Every building looked new, the atmosphere felt lighter than New York had for you in years, everything about the city you knew so well felt different. The lights, the skyline, everything still felt like home as you crossed the East River, flying through the streets of Brooklyn and eventually Queens.

The heaviness eventually found you, though, just like it had every day for the last two months. As city lights shone off the windows of the Corvette, bathing you in its light, your mind still wandered back to memories. The first time Tony had driven you upstate to the new compound in the passenger seat of the god awful orange Audi. The quietness that came with the blip, the way the entire city fell still. The sweeter moments, like dragging your best friend from the compound late one night and sneaking into the city, sitting along the Brooklyn Bridge to admire the lights.

“Hey,” those memories came to a halt, Johnny’s hand brushing across your knee, settling there with a gentle squeeze. “You’re thinking hard over there.”

You hummed, head still resting on your hand as your elbow sat against the window of the car door. You let your eyes settle on his hand, just watching the way his thumb drew circles into the side of your knee.

“Reminiscing on my New York, that’s all,”

“Ah, getting homesick,” the sight of Johnny nodding was just barely visible out of the side of your eyes, His hand slid from you, joining his other hand on the wheel. “You’ll go home, back to your futuristic universe eventually, I know it. Then you can forget all about us in this little universe.”

The radio was blaring a Frank Sinatra song, something much too slow for the night time around you. The song crackled through the speakers as you glanced over, observing the side of Johnny’s face. For a man that hid behind such an extravagant persona for the media and the fans, you could see right through it. That hint of sadness in his own features, woven into the creases of his eyes and the lines around his lips, at the thought of you leaving.

I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast. I fall in love too terribly hard.

“I think you’re underestimating how much I will miss you guys when I go home,” you told him simply, the music playing lightly through the speakers. It really was that simple, it was the truth. “I’ll miss you guys a lot. I’ll miss you.”

Johnny’s hand seemed to tighten along the steering wheel for just a second, so quick you almost missed it. Those blue eyes glanced over at you, catching your gaze. His features were riddled with something you couldn’t understand, but could see how gentle it was, until his charming smile was back, wiping away any trace of the strange emotion you had seen.

“Careful there, little witch. It’s starting to sound like you’re falling unequivocally in love with me-”

His laughter filled the car, overtaking the sound from the radio as your hand reached out and shoved his shoulder, your own laughter mixing in with his own.

“You’re fucking impossible, Johnny Storm,”

Of everywhere that you could’ve thought Johnny would be dragging you to, a drive-in theater was the last place you would’ve imagined. 

The entire stretch of lawn buried deep within the heart of Long Island was packed with cars of all different kinds, vintage ones you had never seen in person. There was a group of teenagers crowded around one of the cars, hugging their friends and talking animatedly between each other. Some couples walked through the lines of vehicles, giggling together under their breath as they carried their food from the little stand off to the side.

Johnny pulled the car to a stop in one of the last remaining spots, side windows immediately rolling down to allow the sound from the mounted speakers to infiltrate the car. Night had set in, an announcement projected onto the large screen that the movie would begin soon, as you turned to find Johnny already watching you with a wide grin.

“Come on, don’t tell me you’ve been to drive-in theaters too?”

“They’re still a thing, but I’ve never been,” was the response you gave, a small laugh falling from your lips as he excitedly punched the air. “I have always wanted to go to one, though”

“Then your wish, princess,” in his usual dramatic fashion, Johnny stole your hand in his. With a kiss placed to your knuckles, he was already halfway out of the car before you could truly process the moment. “Is my command. Be right back with the snacks.”

You watched him the entire time he was gone. From the moment he slipped out of the car to ordering something from the snack stand, you watched. Even as the young girl working behind the counter seemed to fangirl at the sight of the Human Torch in front of her.

His charm was stupid most of the time. Little one liners, flirtatious jokes, touches that were all but friendly in nature. You didn’t care for a single one of those moments. It had been awhile, but you’d seen Tony use the same tricks. In the briefest of time you had known Peter Quill even he had tried it. Those moments meant nothing to you, but these did.

Bringing you breakfast in the morning just so you didn’t have to be alone. Dragging you around the city to participate in a thousand activities on the off chance that you hadn’t done them before, once again so that you wouldn’t feel alone and left with your thoughts. Hearing a single scream from you, seeing a single tear, and dragging you through New York in the middle of the night just to see you smile again. Those moments worked on you–meant something to you–more than you wanted them to.

The moment he was swarmed by a bunch of little kids trying to leave the snack stand didn’t help the turmoil you felt inside either. Johnny didn’t complain, not once, simply balanced the food in one arm so he could lean down and high five one of the girls, ruffling the hair of another little boy standing right next to her. He smiled wide, you could see the shake of his chest as he threw his head back in laughter, igniting his hand quickly as the kids all clapped and gasped in awe at the sight of their own personal superhero. There was a news reporter nearby, calling out for a photo that Johnny happily posed for with the kids, leaving them with one last story that had them all looking up at him in awe and adoration.

You hated the stutter that occurred in your heart. You weren’t dumb–you knew what it meant. Johnny Storm was charming, handsome, a literal superhero that had captured the hearts of the entire world. He, also, was the most down to earth man you had ever met sometimes, more observant than you gave him credit for, and too sweet for his own good.

If you thought hard enough, you could almost hear Wong’s voice in your head, scolding you for slowly falling for a man from an entirely different universe. The definition of a man you could never have, never meant to be yours.

“Got swarmed by some little kids, had to make sure I showed off the flames,” Johnny’s voice broke through your thoughts as he slid back into the car, passing a bag of popcorn over the console and into your hands. Just as he did, the large screen in the lot changed, the beginnings of the movie beginning to play as some of those teenagers from earlier began to clap and holler. “Just in time.”

Shaking those thoughts from your head, trying to will them away, you brought your gaze back to the screen. The opening shots of the credits, directors names and actors names plastered across the screen as it dove into the first scene without hesitation, situated on some mountain with hoards of people who were dressed for an even more vastly different time period than now.

“Spartacus?” a questioning glance was thrown Johnny’s way from you as you took a quick bite of your popcorn. “An action/adventure movie was your choice for a drive-in movie date?”

“Hey, you’re the one who said this wasn’t a date,” Johnny retorted, meeting your glance as he took in another handful of popcorn himself with a cheeky grin. “Besides, I didn’t peg you to be a romance movie kind of girl.”

“On some occasions I can be,” you gave back with a shrug. “A good action movie is definitely more my speed, though, so good choice.”

“What can I say, I know you,”

He did. He really did.

It was barely an hour into this three hour movie when your mind finally began to drift off again. Legs curled up on the seat under you, your own popcorn bag finished off and discarded at your feet as you reached over to steal from Johnny’s own bag, you found your thoughts leaving the movie once more. But instead of thinking about home, about the people you lost or the ones waiting for you to come back, you found them on Johnny once again.

Watching the side of his face quietly, you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him mouth some of the words to the movie under his breath, almost mimicking the accents of the actors themselves. It was enough to elicit a small giggle from your lips, bringing his gaze from the movie over to you instead.

“Are you quoting this movie word for word?”

“Hey, don’t knock it. I happen to really like this movie,” your giggles persisted, even as Johnny reached into his bag and tossed a handful of popcorn in your direction. “You should see Ben watching Breakfast at Tiffany’s, he could probably act that entire movie out for you. Don’t tell him I told you that.”

“You’re both such dorks,”

“Come on, don’t you have a movie you can quote?”

You hummed, letting the question sit with you for a moment, memories rushing back over you.

“Not a movie, but a show. Full House,” Johnny’s gaze never left you, the movie long abandoned in his eyes for a moment. An idea sprang to mind, your head tilting ever so slightly as you shot him a grin. “Want to see it?”

Excitement crawled into Johnny’s eyes immediately, his head nodding as he sat up straighter in the driver’s side seat.

You took a deep breath. Holding up your hand to the door beside you, that familiar blue magic seeped from your fingertips as that same color glowed in the irises of your eyes, crawling along the interior of the car until it reached the windshield. Your eyes were watching Johnny once again, the absolute wonder in his eyes as his windshield shimmered in blue, before the screen through the windshield changed before your very eyes: gone were Kirk Douglas and Laurence Olivier, replaced instead by John Stamos and Bob Saget in that iconic kitchen of their San Francisco home.

With another flick of your hand, the speaker at your car switched, playing the sound of the show you were now broadcasting instead of the movie.

“Don’t worry, no one else can see or hear this. Just us,”

Johnny was barely paying attention to what you said, too busy dipping his head in and out of the window in shock and awe, the screen beyond the windshield still playing Spartacus while within the confines of the car your tv show was playing.

“You…I don’t know how you do it, but you somehow get hotter every time you use your magic,”

Laughing, you reached into his popcorn bag and threw an unpopped kernel at the side of his head. Resting back into your seat, arms wound around your knees, you found yourself lost in the scene before you on the screen.

“This was one of Wanda’s favorite shows,” after a minute of silence, engrossed in the scene, you told him. You could feel Johnny’s eyes watching you instead of the show. “She always liked older shows, like Bewitched or I Love Lucy. We used to watch this one all the time in the compound, whenever Steve didn’t have us training constantly.”

Johnny didn’t say anything for a moment, just watched you.

“She was your best friend, wasn’t she? I don’t think you’ve ever said her name,”

“That’s because it’s hard to talk about her,” finding his gaze again, the gentle comfort shining in his gaze washed over you, as if draping you in a blanket. Swallowing the lump in your throat that always formed when you thought too hard about her, you offered him the smallest smile you could muster. “Just a few weeks before I wound up in your universe, I lost her. She lost herself to dark magic, let it consume her, so like the brave woman she was, she chose to protect the world from herself.”

Your words hung in the air, neither of you speaking for a moment. The scene from the show continued to play out before you swiped your hand through the air, dissipating the magic and letting the picture and sound of the movie return to the screen and the little speaker. It hurt too much to relive those moments.

“Hey, do you think by showing me a show that hasn’t come out yet in my universe, this will mess up, like, space and time? Like, what if I go pitch this show to Hollywood real quick and get it made a whole decade before it’s supposed to get made?”

The car got quiet, the only sound being the audio from the movie still playing through the speakers. Raising an eyebrow, entire face contorted in confusion, soft  laughter sputtered out of your lips at the simple comment.

“I…what? Johnny that…” his smile grew, as did your laughter as you struggled to get your words out. “Johnny, that doesn’t make any sense?”

“I’m aware,” his hand reached out, thumb and index finger pinching your chin between the soft pads of his fingers. Your breath caught, laughter dying down as you just stared at him, as he drew small circles into your skin, heat blooming under his touch. “You were getting sad. I just don’t like seeing you sad.”

Johnny’s words were so sincere. Not a hint of his usual charm, not a single signature Storm smirk in sight, just genuine affection. Genuine care for you, for your thoughts, for the way your memories made you feel.

The idea of never going home again hurt, but the idea of leaving the Fantastic Four? Of never seeing Johnny Storm again? That was starting to hurt even more.

Even as his blue Corvette was parked in front of the Baxter Building again late that night, headlights flickering off and plunging the car into darkness except for the street lights around the building, your eyes kept flickering back to him.

Driving through Queens, you no longer thought back on the memories of walking through the city one night with Steve when you were younger. Now, you thought about the diner, about the smile on Johnny’s face as he watched you try that milkshake in the dead of night. As you crossed over the bridge into the city, you didn’t think of the nights you and Wanda would sit on the edge and watch the city lights, you instead watched the way the lights danced over Johnny’s skin through the glass.

The elevator of the Baxter Building popped open on the floor of the main living room. The building was quiet, just a lamp in the corner by the staircase to the bedrooms lit up, everyone else fast asleep.

Johnny stepped out of the elevator, pausing just barely still in the doorway. One arm leaning on doors, keeping them open, you both just stood still and watched one another for a moment.

“For a not date, this very much felt like a date,” you threw at him after a moment. Those blue eyes of his lit up, smile lines etching themselves into his skin as his little grin grew immediately.

“Oh sweetheart, this definitely wasn’t a date. Our first date would be a lot different, trust me,”

You hummed, taking a step forward in the elevator, eyes never leaving his. There was barely space left between the two of you now. Johnny's sharp intake of breath was evident, the smile on your lips growing as you ignored every little voice in your head telling you this was a terrible idea.

“What would our first date be like?”

Surprise crawled into his expression. Eyes wide and bright, the smile on his face warped into something you couldn’t quite place. The hand tucked into the pocket of his slacks crawled forward, gingerly placing itself against your waist. Not pulling you closer, just lying there: steady, grounding, present. You didn’t push him away.

“The Regent,” he spoke softly but certainly, eyes never straying from yours. “Exclusive little dance hall just a few blocks away. Live band every night. You’d look just as beautiful as you always do, and I’d get to spend the entire night spinning you around in circles. Making you smile, watching you laugh, holding you close. That would be our first date.”

You hummed, stepping just a hair closer to him. His fingers flexed along your waist, squeezing ever so slightly, as one of your hands came to rest on his chest, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Sounds like you’ve thought about this,”

“Every night since the moment I realized you weren’t a threat that was coming to destroy my entire world…again,”

“I don’t know,” you teased, hand curling into the fabric of his shirt. “According to Sue, you’re kind of into that thing. I could always coat myself in some shiny silver paint if that does it for you.”

He huffed out a puff of air in laughter, tugging you in until you were pressed to his chest in the doorway of the elevator.

“No, you just have to be you. The pretty little witch that could cut off my oxygen supply with a flick of her wrist is all I need. All I want,”

Your eyes trailed down, along the bridge of his nose, until they settled on the pink of his lips. As you spoke, you never looked away from them.

“When would this date be?”

“Tomorrow night, 8 on the dot,”

“That’s so soon, eager?”

“Extremely, I’ve only been thinking about this for two months,”

Your laughter was soft as your eyes finally trailed back to his, only to find them settled on your lips in turn.

“It’s a date, then,”

His blue eyes found yours, shining with an affection that made your knees week. The hand gripping your waist trailed up, fingers dancing along every curve of your body, until it curled around your cheek to cup it within his hand. The heat of his skin bloomed through yours, sending a single shiver down your spine.

“You know,” his voice was low, eyes blown slightly wider than they had been before, as his eyes quickly darted back down to your lips for a moment. “This would be the moment during the date where I’d probably try and kiss you.”

Even with the flutter of butterflies through your chest, head feeling lighter than it ever had before, your lips curled into a wide grin. Eyes glowing blue for just a moment, a small burst of magic left the hand resting on his chest, pushing him backward and out of the elevator doors.

Johnny’s wide eyes watched you as he caught himself, steadying himself on the ground as he stared at you with a dumbfounded smile. You only returned the look, pressing the button for the guest floor without ever breaking eye contact.

“Guess you’ll have to try your luck tomorrow night,”

Even with the amount of bravado laced into your words as the elevator doors swung shut, cutting you off from Johnny’s captivating gaze, nothing could quell the swell of emotion building behind your chest at the simple thought of the blonde man who’d managed to capture your heart without even really trying.

❤︎

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you want to go on a date with matchstick. I mean, he’s my buddy, he's a great kid, but come on. There’s no one waiting for you back in your universe?”

Ben’s comment earned him another affectionate eyeroll from you, along with a deadpan look shot across the kitchen island counter.

He was deep into making a fresh batch of cookies that he had been given the recipe for, the little old woman he’d met claiming they could match the quality of Maisie’s cookies. Reed was skeptical of the recipe, trying to offer advice from further down the counter, but Ben waved him off every single time.

Little Franklin was sitting in his highchair at the counter between you and Sue, babbling incoherently as he played with the little pieces of cereal laid on the counter in front of him. You were simply flicking the little pieces around with little tendrils of blue magic, Sue laughing every single time Franklin tried to catch a piece and you yanked it away.

“No, Ben, there’s no one waiting for me back home,” was the answer you gave the man, never looking up once as you continued to toy with the food on the counter. “Being a superhero for most of your life kind of makes dating an impossible situation.”

“I, for one, fully support this,” Sue chimed in, rising from her chair to refill Franklin’s bottle on the counter. She passed behind you, reaching out to help smooth down the white long sleeve blouse along your shoulders, forcing you to adjust it along your waist where it was tucked into the navy blue slacks she had helped you pick out earlier on. “This is the first time I’ve seen Johnny so head over heels for a woman in a way that might just stick. He worships the ground that you walk on, I love to see it.”

“It helps that you could kill him if you really wanted to,” Ben threw in for good measure, ducking the slap that Sue tried to land on his shoulder. “Sometimes I think it’s a secret kink of his-”

“Okay, I don’t want to hear about what kinks my little brother may or may not have,”

You laughed at the antics you had grown so used to from the group in front of you. Franklin got upset with the constant moving of his little cereal bits, grabbing a handful and tossing them toward you. Wide eyed at his antics, you grabbed onto his tiny hand, blowing a raspberry into the palm of his hand as his shrieks and giggles sounded throughout the room.

“Reed, I’m surprised you don’t have any comments to add in,” you threw in the super genius’ direction. “Nothing about how we’re from two different universes, or how this could blow up the entire multiverse?”

“I’ve been taking notes regarding it, actually,” Ben’s groan sounded through the room the second Reed said it, pulling a notebook out of his back pocket and flipping it open. “Your genetic makeup, based on previous tests, seemed to align with ours, but that doesn’t mean that fundamentally there isn’t something woven into your DNA that doesn’t match with ours. There’s also the idea that, given you’re from two different universes, you were never supposed to meet, so if you managed to fall in love there could be an unforeseen breakdown of the fabric of the-”

Sue’s hand immediately clamped over her husband’s mouth, giving him an unimpressed look, as she shot you the brightest smile she could manage. She slid the now refilled cup for Franklin across the counter to you as you caught it, laughing under your breath at the entire situation as you handed it over to the little boy beside you who made grabby hands in its direction.

“What Reed means to say is that you’re good for him, and honestly, we haven’t seen you as happy as you’ve been the last few weeks since you started spending more time with him. Since you got here he hasn’t done a single PR nightmare worthy thing. I think Lynne might want to get you the keys to the city for it,”

“What are we getting my girl keys to the city for?”

Maybe his charm never worked on you, his endless flirtatious moves and jokes. But in this moment, as he descended the stairs into the living room and your heart stuttered over several beats, you finally understood the hoards of women across the universe that had Johnny Storm plastered across their walls and their hearts.

The navy blue button up he adorned clung to him, almost slightly too tight on him as the fabric pulled in the creases under his arms and by his waist. It was tucked into a pair of white chino pants, accented with navy blue dress shoes. His smile was bright, cheeky as it always was, his hands clasped together behind his back as he made his way across the living room.

Taking a semi-shaky stand on the strappy heels that Sue had helped you into before, you met him halfway across the room, a hush having fallen over the kitchen as you felt their eyes watching every movement both of you made.

Johnny’s eyes trailed up and down your body the second you came to a stop in front of him, taking in the navy blue of your pants and the white of your blouse, before he cheekily shot you a wink.

“Twinning on the first date? What’s the slang they use in your time for that? Couple goals, wasn't it?”

“Couple?” your eyebrow shot up. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Storm. You have to earn that.”

“Oh, I’ll earn it,” his hands finally unclasped from behind his back, thrusting out toward you. “For you, gorgeous.”

A beautiful bouquet of flowers: Plumeria flowers. Glittering in an ombre of pinks and oranges, taking you back to one of those first nights on that couch just a few floors away. 

You took the bouquet in your hands, eyes never leaving Johnny’s as you inhaled the sweet scent that wafted from the petals. The adoration that shone in his blue eyes sent your heart into another flutter.

“My favorite,” you responded.

“What, did you think I’d forget?”

“Kind of,”

“Give me a little more credit, darling,” he lifted one of your hands from the bouquet, cradling it in his as he left a kiss along your knuckles. “When it comes to you, I don’t think I could forget even if I tried.”

“Can you two leave for your date and go flirt elsewhere? My god, this is painful to watch,”

Sue laughed at Ben’s comment, and you joined in. Johnny shot the man a look, flipping him the bird that you were sure was being shot right back at him from behind your back.

Sue saddled up to your side seconds later, plucking the bouquet from your hands with a soft smile.

“I’ll put these in water for you and leave them upstairs,” she shot her eyes to Johnny, narrowing them. “Treat her well or I will cover for her when she drags your lifeless body back later tonight.”

Too busy laughing, you never even noticed Johnny’s eye roll toward his sister. The only thing you could comprehend as he pulled you into the awaiting elevator was the feeling of his fingers slipping into the empty spaces between yours, intertwining your hand with his.

It felt right. Too right for two people who should have never met one another.

The Regent was situated just a few blocks away from the Baxter Building, the perfect distance to walk straight there. You weren’t complaining, not with the way Johnny gripped your hand like he was afraid you’d pull it away, every so often tugging it gently so that your body fell into his,  arm brushing against his arm.

“We fought with Moleman–well, I guess he prefers to be called Harvey–right here,” he pointed out just a few blocks from the Baxter Building, gesturing toward the blocked off area right beside a small park. There were fences up around what looked like a giant hole in the ground with just the very top of a building sticking out of it, signs indicating ‘keep out’ to everyone that walked past. “He runs Subterranea, the whole civilization under New York.”

“There’s an entire city under this city?” you questioned, looking up at him in alarm.

“Oh yeah, you guys don’t have that?” he quirked an eyebrow toward you as you shook your head in response. “He stole the entire Pan Am building, sinking it down into the ground before we could stop him. Been years and they’re still working on what to do with it.”

You took a single glance around: 45th Street and Park Avenue. The familiar intersection made you smile, one that Johnny seemed to understand all too well. Taking a quick glance around to  ensure that there weren’t too many people watching, you slipped your hand from Johnny’s in order to tilt his head to look at where the building used to stand. With a single wave of your fingertips toward his temples, blue seeping into his eyes, you could see the moment they widened at the sight you were projecting to him.

“In my world, this was the site of the Avengers tower,” you could see the glamour you were showing him, but you knew it like the back of your hand. The tower that hung high above the skyline of the city, the shining ‘A’ that matched the one hanging from the belt of your suit. “It was Stark Tower, until Tony decided to fashion it into a base of operations for the team after the battle of New York.”

The vision faded, the traces of your magic leaving Johnny’s eyes, as they turned back to look at you. His hand found yours again without hesitation, fingers tangling with yours again as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him.

“How do you possibly get cooler and more interesting with every passing thing you tell me and show me? It’s not fair,”

Johnny filled every second of the walk with story after story. A diner on the corner that he’d rescued a little girl from during another fight in the city, and the way she’d hid behind her father shyly the second he’d dropped her back down on the ground. Another diner just a block away that he’d dragged Reed to after he’d locked himself in his lab for upwards of 48 hours, not having eaten a single thing to the point where Sue was concerned he’d just pass out on the floor in front of his chalkboard. The bakery that sat underneath a row of apartments that Johnny was convinced had the best pie in the world, but Ben still argued there wasn’t a single bakery in the world that could compare to Maisie’s over on Yancy Street.

Before you knew it, you were standing before The Regent. Elegant, sign shimmering and lighting up the darkened sidewalk before it. One single man stood at the door, surveying the area. With one look to Johnny, he nodded his head toward the door to grant him access.

Stepping into that room felt like entering an entirely new world. Light wooden floors that matched the light wood of the walls, which were decorated themselves with photographs upon photographs of couples and celebrities dancing and performing on the stage. The stage itself was beautiful, shining bright at the end of the room as the lights illuminated the band that was currently engrossed in some Elvis song that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. The walls were all draped with velvety red curtains from the ceiling to the floor, accenting the dimly lit room, dance floor, stage and bar in color. Couples, friends, groups all mingled about, dining at the tables elevated at the back of the room, mingling along the walls, and dancing together in front of the stage.

“Of everything you’ve dragged me to these last few months,” you spoke up, voice rising to be heard over the music as the band switched songs, playing a cover of River Deep - Mountain High now. “This is the most 60s feeling thing yet.”

“And that, sweetheart, is why I saved it for a proper date,” Johnny appeared in front of you, your hand still clasped in his, as he tugged you forward. “Come on!”

Your laughter rang through the room as Johnny pulled you into the throws of people, finding an open spot among the crowd on the floor.

He spun you, that smile never dropping from his lips as you twirled in circles. Each twirl left you dizzy as the song played on in the background, the groups of people around you clapping along to the beat from the band. It was inevitable that you’d eventually stumble in the heels you weren’t accustomed to. Johnny’s arm was there, like you somehow knew it would be, curling around your waist. He dipped you, cheekily pretending as if it was all meant to happen, before spinning you back up onto your heels and pulling you into his chest.

“Come on, I can’t have you tripping and falling for me just yet,” he teased, hands holding yours as he spun you out once again just to pull you right back in.

“You try dancing in heels!” you shot back at him, earning a bright laugh from the man still dancing you around in circles. “We never danced like this at Tony’s parties.”

“I thought you said he threw a lot of those,”

“Yeah, but they were more stand around, drink, and talk parties than dancing,” you took a single glance around the room, at every woman being danced around by their friends and their partners. Swishing skirts, some almost touching the floor, loosely hanging from their bodies. “Not that the dresses I was forced to wear would've allowed for dancing. Too tight fitting–the one had a slit almost the entire way up my thigh.”

Johnny’s hand tugged you in at that moment, your chest flush against his. His lips skimmed over the edge of your ear, voice husky as he whispered into it just loudly enough for you to hear.

“I need you to not give me a mental image of your 21st century clothing while we’re in public, honey,”

A laugh bubbled from your throat as you pulled back to see him fully. The ways his eyes had darkened just slightly, the blue of his eyes almost completely overtaken, had your stomach doing a flip. But it wasn’t enough to stop the slightly sadistic smile that overtook your lips.

“Why? It’s so much fun, seeing you all worked up,” you let your fingers touch his jaw gently, nails dragging down the expanse of his neck and to the small bit of skin just barely visible along his collarbone, before you pushed away from him. “Come on, let’s get drinks!”

You could just barely hear his groan of “You’re going to be the death of me,” behind you as he followed you diligently through the crowd, his hand finding the small of your back within seconds so that you were never quite far from him.

Seated on one of the barstools, sipping gingerly at the drink Johnny had procured for you, it was impossible not to watch Johnny. 

The way he animatedly retold a story about how they’d been invited to a fundraiser years ago in a dance hall, how he’d talked Ben into getting up onto the stage to dance. The way he so enthusiastically greeted those around the bar that did recognize him, as they slid in little comments about if you were the “mystery woman” that the papers had begun to pick up on over the last two months. He deflected them with ease, remembering many of those that said hello to him, asking such personal things about their families, their jobs, as if they were his best friends.

Your laughter spilled into your drink as the band played their own version of The Twist, and Johnny chose to demonstrate his moves directly in front of you. He smiled wide, eyes never leaving you, as he mouthed the words in your direction, following along with the dance every other person in the club was doing along with him.

“Johnny Storm: a superhero, an avid golfer, a lover of space, and now we can add dancer to that extensive list,” you teased, taking the final sip of your drink before leaving the empty glass on the counter behind you. “Do you frequent these dance halls a lot?”

“When I was a teenager I found my way here pretty often,” he answered easily as the song came to an end, the room cheering out and erupting in applause for the band. With one arm, he leaned against the counter beside you, looking up at you. “I wouldn't call myself a dancer, though. Just had enough practice to be semi-decent.”

“Practice, huh?” you questioned, just as the band started back up again. “How many girls have you taken dancing before?”

The band kicked back up, their next song already ready to go. You recognized it immediately: that same Frank Sinatra song that had played in the car through Long Island barely 24 hours prior. Johnny only smiled softly, standing out in front of you with his hand outstretched toward you.

“None. Promised myself that only one woman would ever have the pleasure of seeing me dance. Now, will you do me the honor?”

It wasn’t a line, not one of his usually charming, flirtatious lines. Not the way in which he said it: so genuinely, so vulnerably. You slipped your hand into his without a second thought.

Johnny guided you back out onto the dance floor, finding another open space among the couples around with ease. His arm slid around your waist, resting there as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You didn’t want to dwell on the fact that it really did feel so right, in a way you had never felt before.

His hand pressed firmly into your lower back, holding your body close to his. You could feel that unnatural heat that radiated off of his skin through the layers of clothing that adorned your body. One of your arms found its place around his shoulder, hand curled around the back of his neck and tangling just slightly with the hairs that laid there. Your other hand was clasped in his, taking in every bit of warmth that seeped from his palm into yours.

I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast. I fall in love too terribly hard for love to ever last.

“Can I ask you something?” you asked him quietly, nose just barely brushing along the edge of his jawline as you danced together, swayed back and forth across the floor with him.

“Anything,”

“You didn’t have to trust me that day in the park. You could’ve assumed I was a threat, taken me out. Instead, you took me in,” you closed your eyes, leaning in just slightly as your nose brushed over his jawline once again. “Then, you took it upon yourself to make me feel comfortable, to not let me feel alone in a universe that isn’t mine…why?”

“I mean, from the moment I saw you I thought you were pretty, but it was because I felt like I was looking at me,” Johnny’s answer was simple. No charm, no jokes, just the truth. “I saw myself for a moment, the me I was when we came home from space with powers. Confused, angry, terrified of what I had become. I didn’t know what to do. You looked so lost, so alone, and you continued to look that way every day. I didn’t…I didn’t want you to feel alone. I didn’t want you to feel like I did when I came home that day, when I felt like I had to lock myself away. It didn’t help that…I kind of fell for you along the way.”

Any hesitation in your heart, any thought in your brain still telling you that this was a terrible idea, that it could never work, melted away in that single second.

My heart should be well schooled ‘cause I've been fooled in the past. And still I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast.

“Can I ask you something?” he tacked on as your brain and heart still searched for a way to respond to him. All you could give him was a nod, one he could feel from where your skin touched his. “I’ve been flirting with you every day since we met. What made you finally say yes to a date?”

“Because I wasn’t saying yes to Jonathan Storm, the Human Torch, one of the four protectors of this Earth,” you told him simply, leaning back just slightly so that you could catch his gaze as you spoke, bodies still swaying back and forth to the swell of the violin. “I was saying yes to Johnny. The flame boy who decided to trust me. The guy that does the dumbest shit just to make his nephew laugh. The only one who’s made the pain of what I’ve lost lessen these last few months. I didn’t fall for all the bravado, or the charming lines, I just fell for him.”

Your confession was laid bare, as was his. He didn’t say a single word. Johnny simply smiled, leaning forward to press a kiss to the crown of your head, before letting his eyes close and his forehead rest against yours. You followed suit, mirroring him, simply existing in the space within his arms.

My heart should be well schooled ‘cause I've been fooled in the past. And still I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast.

What felt like hours later, while also feeling like no time had passed at all, you found your hand clasped in Johnny’s once more. Roaming the streets of New York in the cool air of the night, a giddiness present in each of you that could only be compared to the feeling of pure childlike wonder and joy.

All you could think about was how right it felt, being with him. Having his hand in yours. Being in his arms. Universes separated you, but in this moment, you felt as if you had never belonged somewhere more than you did right now.

“Okay, okay,” Johnny forced out through his laughter, leaning into you as you turned another street corner, trying to find the next question to ask in the long line of questions you had been throwing back and forth. “Favorite fight that you had with the Avengers?”

“Oh god, I don’t know if I can answer that,” you responded easily with a laugh, shaking your head at the thought. “None of them were really fun, they all kind of left immense damage in their wake. One ended with me locked in a high security prison in the middle of the ocean for a short period of time, so, I guess that was fun.”

“That…that sounds like the opposite of fun,”

“Oh, it was. It sucked immensely,” he shoved his shoulder into yours for the comment. “Okay, my turn. Favorite memory with Reed?”

“When he asked me permission to marry Sue. I thought he was going to piss himself, I’ve never seen the man look so nervous,” Johnny laughed, tugging on your hand to bring you in closer to his side again. “Okay, how about your favorite thing you can do with your magic?”

Now that was a show instead of a tell question. Dropping his hand, you slid into the space in front of Johnny on the side walk, shuffling backwards against the pavement. He cocked an eyebrow as you shot him a tiny grin, before your hands at your sides began to glow in that familiar blue as your body lifted off of the grow by just a few feet, uncaring for anyone that could possibly see you in the area.

Johnny stopped in his tracks, dumbfounded as his wide eyes looked up at you. He sputtered for a moment, trying to find his words.

“Wait–you could fly this entire time, and you didn’t tell me?”

“You never asked!”

Johnny’s body ignited in flames, a sight you’d sparingly seen over your time in their world. From the chest down, every bit of him burned in those bright orange and red licks of fire as he, too, flew above the ground before you, back to being level with you once more.

“We could’ve been flying everywhere instead of driving!”

“Well, let’s just have some fun with it now,” you shot back with a wink, before propelling yourself upward. “Keep up, flame boy!”

The chill in the New York breeze was a familiar feeling, beating against your face as you propelled yourself up into the air, flying along the edge of the buildings. Johnny followed along right beside you, the heat of his flames fanning out over you and cancelling out the chill that night air brought with it.

His eyes never left yours as you spun around a corner of the building, propelling yourself further up into the air. You looked down, watching him with a smile as you hung there high above the buildings and the city of New York. Johnny joined you in seconds, hovering just in front of you. The clouds practically kissed your body, the city so far down below you both, leaving you alone together among the clouds.

You could see it, the glint in his eyes, the way they flickered down to your lips for just a second before glancing back up, pretending as if they’d never strayed away. He leaned in, and you let him for just a moment, before letting your body fall backward and freefall through the air back toward the city.

His laughter echoed through the sky as he flew down after you, following the sound of your own laughter. He saddled up to your side, flying down alongside you once again before you took a sudden turn, propelling yourself toward the rooftop of a building just barely in the distance.

Your feet touched down on the private rooftop moments later, magic dissipating from your fingertips as you landed, taking in a deep breath as the rush of flying left your body in one fell swoop. The rooftop garden you’d landed in was clearly one for a private residence, somewhere you probably shouldn’t have been, but you didn’t care. Not with the smell of the flowers invading your senses, the glint of the dim fairy lights strung around the roof bathing you in their light, and the view of the Baxter Building dead ahead.

Johnny’s feet touched the ground just moments after you, the sound of his shoes hitting the flooring alerting you. Spinning, he was standing just a few feet away, watching you with a little smile as he shook his head with laughter.

“You might be insane,”

“Sorry,” your giggles fell into the mix with his own laughter. “It’s been a minute since I’ve flown. I’ve missed it.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever flown with someone on a first date,” Johnny countered, taking just a few steps forward toward you. “Unless you count Shalla-Bal throwing me off her surfboard in space, but that wasn’t really a date.”

“Guess this was a first for both of us, then,”

You matched his steps, barely a few feet between the two of you now. Johnny didn’t make another step forward, though, didn’t close the space separating you. 

His Adam’s apple bobbed, his foot tapped against the ground, and his hands clearly didn’t know what to do with themselves.

“What’s wrong?” you asked gently, even though you could practically see the nerves rolling off of him. He laughed, shaking his head as he glanced to the ground for just a moment, before back to you.

“I…I’m kind of nervous, if you can believe it,”

You hummed, taking the initiative to step up into his space, barely a few inches separating the two of you now. Your eyes never left him.

“Why? I thought the charming Johnny Storm had been on a bunch of first dates?” you teased.

He laughed breathily, eyes darting to your lips for just a second.

“Not ones that mattered…not like you do,”

You barely let him finish his sentence before you curled your hands around the back of his neck, tugging him down to you and slotting your lips against his.

It was short, but poured every bit of passion into it that swarmed through your heart and your head. Your lips moved against his just slightly, still testing the waters as the heat that coursed through his skin and into yours felt as if it was sinking straight down into your bones. Johnny’s lips were soft, supple, a shaky breath leaving his lips and fanning out over yours the second that they touched for the first time. Something in your head clicked at the feeling, something that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, making you light-headed as your fingers just barely curled into the hair kissing the nape of his neck.

It was you that pulled away first. Barely a few inches away, the heat of his body still filling the air between you. His blue eyes bore down into your, wide and full of awe, lips slightly parted. A smile stretched across his face first, a matching once crawling across your own as you let your hands fully dive into his hair.

Johnny moved first, hands enveloping your waist and tugging you until your body was almost one with his, his mouth devouring yours in a kiss that had your knees almost crumbling to the ground.

Those heated hands swarmed your body desperate to touch every single expanse of you that they could in the way you were sure he’d thought about, in the way you never wanted to admit you sometimes dreamed about. Goosebumps crawled across your skin with every move of his hands, with every flex of his fingers and they pressed into you. His lips moved against yours like a starved man, slick with spit as your mouth opened to him, letting him invade every bit of you that you could, his tongue slipping just barely in and grazing over your bottom lip. A moan fell–from you or Johnny, neither of you knew–but the sound only spurred you both on.

His hands tightened their grip around your waist, holding him to you like a possession, one he couldn’t bear to lose. Claiming you. Your hand wound into his hair, tugging to elicit a groan from him, as you let your other trail down to rest over the patch of skin just barely visible under the single unbuttoned part of his shirt.

When your lips finally broke, soft pants filling the air between you, neither of you dared to look away. You couldn’t. It was like being in a trance, being pulled to the man in front of you almost magnetically. He leaned in, pressing a series of soft pecks against your lips, hands still flexing across your hips with each little peck that sent the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy.

“This is crazy, right?” he muttered out between kisses. You hummed in response, matching each kiss of his with your own through your grin, hands still carding through his hair.

“What, falling for each other when we come from completely different universes?”

“Exactly that,” he responded, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose, before his forehead rested against yours. Those blue eyes bore down into yours, a soft smile over taking his kiss bitten lips again. “I don’t care much, though. Not when it just…feels so right.”

Your smile matched his in seconds as you leaned forward, stealing yet another kiss that flooded your body with warmth.

“Me too,”

Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t so crazy: falling for someone universes away from you. Even universes away, maybe Johnny Storm was always meant to be yours, always meant to be the missing piece to your incomplete puzzle.

❤︎

Johnny Storm had been called many things over the years by the media. A playboy, a womanizer, noncommittal. They were all wrong.

He preferred the term hopeless romantic, especially when it came to you.

Especially in this exact moment, leaning against the doorway of his bedroom in the early hours of the afternoon to see you sprawled out, tangled in the covers that were halfway off his bed. You looked as if you belonged there, and in Johnny’s eyes, you did. There was nowhere else that you belonged than right by his side.

Crossing the room quietly, trying not to disturb you, he gently placed the glass of water he’d ventured into the kitchen for down on the bedside table. He got distracted, as he typically did, at the sight of the polaroids splayed out across the wooden table. Taking them gingerly in his hands, terrified to ruin them, the smile that crossed his face couldn’t be wiped away.

You wrapped in his arms along the Coney Island beach in the early hours of the morning. One of just you, sprawled out in his bed in nothing but one of his button downs that fell down to your thighs. You on the couch, Franklin curled into your lap as you read him a book. His favorite one, sneakily taken by Sue late one night, wrapped in his arms on the balcony of the Baxter Building, lips pressed together through smiles.

He loved you. Johnny loved you more than he ever believed he could love someone in life. Multiverse be damned, you were it for him. You were meant to be his and his alone, and he was hell bent on loving you to the fullest extent every single day that he could, knowing someone could come along and rip you away at any moment.

But the universe had given him a year. An entire year to love you in every way that he could, to prove to you that you were it for him. He thanked whatever being out there in the multiverse he needed to every single day for the time he’d been given with you.

Johnny crawled onto the bed, tugging the comforter down from around your shoulders so he could fully see you. His pillow was clutched between your arms, the space in which he usually occupied. His white t-shirt, bearing the 4 logo that you’d made fun of him for months ago, covered your body, falling to the middle of your bare thighs.

He leaned in with a smile, pressing kiss after kiss to the bare skin of your arms he could see, trailing down to leave heat filled kisses to the bare skin of your thighs. He’d barely left three there before he could hear your giggle, body flipping over onto your back so that you could look down on him with a raised eyebrow and a grin.

“You left me,” you teased with a fake little pout. “I had nothing to hold but a pillow.”

“I’m so sorry, princess,” Johnny mumbled through his smirk, pressing yet another kiss into your thighs. His hands traveled up the sides of your legs, pushing his t-shirt with them as his kisses trailed further up the expanse of your skin. “How could I ever make it up to you?”

“I-I don’t know…round three doesn’t sound that bad,”

Johnny hummed through his laughter, mumbling a quiet “I love you” into your skin. He knew you could hear it, though, he knew that you knew it.

He reveled in every little noise that left your lips, every puff of air that was on the cusp of being a moan as he lavished every inch of your skin in a kiss.

“Look, you’re both adults so I try not to tell you what to do, but it’s the middle of the afternoon and–JESUS CHRIST, JOHNNY!”

He’d never sprang away so fast, throwing himself so hard to the side of the bed that he fell straight off of it to the floor with a thud. Your laughter filled the room as he crawled back up the side of the bed, your hand covering your mouth to conceal your laughter and the comforter pulled back up your legs.

Johnny immediately shot a glare at his sister, standing in the doorway of his room with her eyes covered by her hand.

“Sue, you have no one to blame but yourself for this–”

“You could have closed the door! I don’t need to see you doing all of that, my god,” Sue shook her head, peaking between her fingers to finally see that there was nothing happening, before dropping her hand. “Reed wants you in the lab for a few more tests, okay, he promised those would be the last ones this week. Just…look decent and meet us down there, okay?”

She grumbled the entire way out of the room, muttering comments about scarring her for life.

Johnny only rolled his eyes, throwing himself back onto the bed to hover above you. Nothing could ruin his mood, not when you looked up at him like that, smile bright and eyes full of adoration.

“That’s the third time this month she’s done that,” you managed to speak through giggles, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. “She’s going to kill us one of these days.”

Johnny only hummed, ignoring the comment. Instead, his fingers trailed down your neck, grasping the chain of the necklace that rested against your chest, a little charm of a Plumeria dangling off the end. His Christmas gift to you, one of the many you received as you were showered in them by his entire family. He pressed a kiss to the flower, looking up to you, only to see that same soft look in your eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered out, leaning in to capture your lips in his before you could speak back. He could feel you sigh into the feeling, your fingers dancing over his cheek lightly as you kissed him back just as softly.

“I love you, too,” you whispered back against his lips, before your hand rested on his chest with a little push. “But we’re going to go down to that lab because if we stay here another second, Sue is going to be walking in on a sight that she really doesn’t want to see.”

Johnny groaned, but relented. Falling back to his knees, his hands wound under the covers to your hips, pulling you up to your knees quickly on the bed. His mouth found yours in an instant, cementing another kiss there just for good measure.

“Round three after, right?”

It was your magic this time that pushed him, sending him tumbling back off the bed as your laughter rang out through the room.

“If you can behave, then maybe,”

Still clad in his t-shirt, having thrown on the old pair of ripped jeans you’d arrived in this universe in over a year ago, Johnny tucked you under his arm the second you stepped out of his bedroom, unable to go a second without touching you in any way shape or form. You never complained, even leaned into him as he pressed a kiss to your hairline.

“Lynne was able to get us reservations at that one restaurant you’ve been wanting to try for tonight, by the way,” he told you as you stepped into the elevator, hitting the button for Reed’s lab instantly. He grinned at the way your smile brightened, eyes turning to look up at him.

“Oh my god, that new one in Times Square?”

“That’s the one,” Johnny shot back. He let his arm fall from your shoulders, letting it wrap around your waist. His hand found the edge of his shirt, dipping beneath it so that his hand could press against the skin of your bare back. “Thinking maybe afterward we could go for a little fly around the city, sit down on the Brooklyn Bridge for a little while.”

Your hands cupped his cheeks almost instantly after he spoke, pulling him into a kiss. A feeling Johnny was sure he would never grow tired of, never get enough of.